#phi writes stuff

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

OHHHH GUESS WHAT???

Chapter 10 of When We Bleed, We Bleed the Same!!!🩸

you know the drill by now :)

chapter summery: Nevaeh struggles as her team dissolves into arguments. Thank God for Ten.

Nevaeh this entire Chapter:

Rex this entire Chapter:

tags below cut! (if you want to be added to my tag list send me a dm or an ask <3)

@saturn-sends-hugs @phantom-of-the-501st @shahrezaad @ihaventpiickedausername @exxasperatedauthor

[mortellanarts]

I'd die at 22 to feel alive at 21

(The voting for decisions/fragment selection on this awesome ztd rewrite fic by @kayzero is happening on Tumblr now so... maybe try reading it to understand the context of this? I prommy it's worth your time pls join me)

[madnessofmen]

lmao I used to think cwr was so fucking smart but this is literally just basic calculus and quantum mechanics 101. look at me defining 𝚿²

[takes1]

For a request, would you be interested in a bully Dabi x male reader (maybe in a college AU or something. You can decide if you want it to be in the LOV instead)? Reader is constantly picked on and demeaned by him, but one day maybe in a private area reader is cornered, some suggestive content goes on/maybe noncon depending what you want to do, and the reader speaks up when the situation almost goes too far (and normally he is quiet. He’s that nerdy kid afraid to disappoint his parents/and a virgin. So he is scared of what was going on in that scenario.) After, you can decide what goes on from there!

Also to add, my bad about asking make characters. I did read the rules but had no idea what afab of amab means, should of looked it up before asking lol 😂

you're okay! no worries :) i really liked writing this, it's very different from my other stuff. i'm so sorry this has taken so long! will write a part 2 soon and probably end it there!

warnings. barely sfw, slight noncon themes, creepy vibes

details. male!reader / college au / frat au / inexperienced!reader / loser!reader / corruptionkink!dabi / loser!reader / degradation / praise / power play / slight noncon / yandere!dabi / 1.2k words

🤍 scenario series. more dabi and others here.

more links. my ao3 / dabi headcanons / requests open

"No, mom--,"

You almost tripped over your untied shoelace for the third time in the past two minutes but continued to ignore it. Stopping to fix it was scarier than getting a face full of dirty cement.

"No, it's-, okay, uppercase L, did you try the uppercase L yet?"

A rush of adrenaline plumped your veins for a fleeting moment and you gripped your cracked phone like a lifeline. The sound of shoes other than your beat-up Vans scraped across the sidewalk. You turned and there was nothing but the drip of residual rain from gutters, and some trash brushing by a garbage can.

Of course, a Mcdonald's wrapper would be responsible for your fatal heart attack. Or your mother, who didn't understand how to capitalize a letter on her keyboard to enter her bank password.

There was another half mile to your dorm building. When she called you halfway through your journey back from your last late class, you were relieved to have something else on your mind other than the threat of seeing a Brother around.

Pledge Week was Hell. Actual Hell. This must've been your divine punishment for being such a giant fucking loser your entire life-- a cruel joke from God designed to say, 'Look at this dumbass! He's paying hundreds of dollars to get hazed for a week, then ostracized for the smallest hope of feeling like he's a part of something!'

"It's the left side, mom. It says shift on it," You sighed.

This was the first week you hadn't commuted home for the weekend. With no social skills to bank on, there was nothing to do on the weekends except drive two hours home. At least you could be comfortable there. Not necessarily wanted, until they had a technology issue that required a Cybersecurity major -or just any person with brain cells- to fix, but you had your own quiet room.

It didn't change the fact that the Brothers of Alpha Sigma Phi betted on you to join them as a joke. You didn't have any connections or lineage like the other Pledges, but it was funny to pick the scrawny kid and see how long he'd last.

You didn't know how you lasted this long. It was a sort of tolerance that you built up, because Alpha Sig gave you something to do, somewhere to be.

A semester as a Pledge; running errands, attending parties but not allowed to drink, getting shit on at every turn because that was just the culture here and you thought, maybe after you graduate to become a Brother in a couple of days, you would have some real friends.

Another thudding sound of footsteps much heavier than yours. This time, they didn't stop, and neither did you.

The orange glow of streetlamps every 15 feet became markers for your sanity. Only nine more to go before you were at your building.

Your stomach was in your throat. The hand in your pocket clutched your knife.

"You got it?" Your voice was uneven but your mother didn't notice. You wished she would stay on the phone longer, but there was nothing else to talk about.

Even the other seven Pledges didn't associate with you. If they did, they got screwed with more. This week had become a sick kind of lonely, fast.

It was like clockwork. As soon as your phone left your ear, a voice much closer than you anticipated shocked your muscles still.

"Hey, Pledge," It was by far the worst Brother imaginable; the one who seemed to take personal pleasure in your torment above anyone else, "The fuck do ya think you're talkin' to?"

You kept your hand in your pocket. Pulling a knife on him would erase all progress, possibly even make this whole semester's worth of work useless, but you weren't about to surrender your only line of defense when you weren't sure if it would get violent.

Dabi was deceptively glittery under the streetlamp. His piercings gave you something else to look at to avoid eye contact.

"My mom--," You could barely get your words out.

"You're not supposed to speak to anyone this week," He lowered his voice and approached slow because he knew you wouldn't move.

Narrowed eyes watched another student on the other side of the deserted street.

Two years ago, Alpha Sig had been under an investigation for hazing (rightfully so, you could imagine), so the older Brothers were careful about what they said and did in public. In private, everything was still on the table.

So far, the worst thing you were forced to do was the bottling line. This was an activity where they made you and the other Pledges stand in a line to drink an entire bottle of various combined liquors. Each of you had to drink a fair amount, or the last man had to drink whatever was left. You were the last man.

This was already after a knowledge test about the fraternity. If a Pledge got a question wrong about the history of Alpha Sig, he was forced to drink.

Eventually, they made you drink whenever somebody else got a question wrong because you were answering everything correctly.

You had never thrown up so violently at the end of one night before. You weren't sure how you made it back to your dorm, but you woke up at 3 in the afternoon the next morning and didn't bother going to the rest of your classes.

"That includes calling your mommy," Dabi mocked, close enough to be in striking distance.

Every Pledge knew to stay far away from this crazy bastard. He was joked to be so masochistic that he was the one responsible for the investigation in the first place.

But he sought you out so much you had almost seen him every day this week. Enough to count every piercing on his face, wonder what each of his tattoos meant and why he had so many.

He took a glance down to your hand.

"Whaddya got a hard-on or something?"

You shot your hand out of your pocket, knife-less, defenseless, and embarrassed, sparking a smirk across his face.

Your dick was not hard right now, but it wasn't opposed to getting off at the thought of Dabi's big hands, among other things.

It was worth wondering if they could all tell. You weren't flamboyant, but you supposed that not being straight wasn't their only reason to shun you.

You wondered if they knew about Dabi's equality tattoo, a small but mighty symbol under his arm that you managed to get a glimpse of at one party after staring at him too long. He made you his personal servant many times for that problem throughout the semester.

It gave you the chance to pick up on things that weren't so traditional about him.

In truth, it only made your staring worse because you were certain he was more similar to you than anyone would care to think.

He closed the distance between you and sized you up while you put your hands behind your back. You couldn't believe you had forgotten to until now; that was what your class was supposed to do when a Brother called on them.

Dabi's breath was warm and minty on the side of your face when he muttered, "You're gonna show me your dorm, Pledge."

A big, strong hand shoved you hard. Back into the direction you had been walking. There was not much you could do now, other than shakily guide him back to the one place you felt safe.

taglist:

none. reply to be added for part 2!

[bella-rose29]

Idiot ~ Anthony Lockwood x f!reader

Requested by anon:

Hii I want to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader, with childhood bestfriends to rivals to lovers with the miscommunication trope, but also a happy ending with both of them being together. So the plot could be like, they were childhood best friends but then when Anthony's family died he later wanted to start the business, but she thought that he was out of his mind because she was scared about him being in danger, but he thought she just didn't think he can handle it so they got into an argument and she left. After that, they started hating each, later she joined Fittes as an agent, so he was even more angry. So they became rivals in the ghost hunting business. Then they got put on a mission later, and idk she gets injured and his like "who did this to you," but they're still enemies, even though the whole time there is sexual tension between them. This request is super chaotic, so just make your own plot with these elements, I guess. I'm not good at describing plots, I will be happy with whatever you write, but please let them have a happy ending and be together. Also, could you try to make this as long as you can because there aren't as many Lockwood fics as there should be.

I might have changed some bits a lil bit and probably spent way too long talking about their childhood, but hopefully this lives up to your expectations anon! (Please let me know if it doesn't though)

Word count: 9.5k exactly (holy shit this is insane i had way too much fun with this)

Warnings: swearing, violence, fighting, descriptions of injury, mentions and descriptions of Lockwood's family dying/being dead, major spoilers for the books (and the show), some stuff probably doesn't make sense (like at all), i might also have misremembered and made up some things but we'll go with it, Lockwood is actually kind of a dick for some of this oops, he gets better i promise, hospitals, mentions of being on morphine (for the pain), references to Lockwood being depressed, they're idiots in love.

Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @karensirkobabes, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @wandamaximoffbae, @wordsarelife

As always, let me know here if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list!

It was nearly 3am and Y/n L/n had had enough.

She was exhausted, weary, worn out, and pretty much any other synonym for the word 'tired', and she just wanted to go to bed, but Anthony Lockwood had other ideas.

"Give it here, come on!"

Y/n groaned, then half-heartedly chucked the bits of paper at her best friend from where she was lying on the floor of his living room. Jessica laughed, despite also losing to the 5 year old boy at Monopoly, and shook her head at his greedy smile as he counted the money. How he had ever managed to get the two of them to agree to play with him, Y/n didn't know, especially since she'd not really been paying attention when the rules were explained. But then she saw how happy he was at the idea of playing with the two girls, and Y/n knew she could never make her best friend sad.

She did really want to go to bed though.

Jessica Lockwood appeared to notice Y/n's droopy eyes, and quietly spoke to her brother, stifling a laugh at his pout when she told him they should probably stop.

"But we aren't done yet!"

"I know, Anthony, but you've definitely got the most money, I'm sure of it. You're going to win no matter what, so I think we should let Y/n/n go to sleep, yeah?"

"Oh..." he'd noticed his friend's demeanour now, and felt immediately bad for making her stay awake. "Alright then. Y/n/n?"

"Mmm?"

"You ready to go to bed? 'Cause Jess says I won, so I reckon we can go up now."

"Mkay," she murmured, too sleepy to answer in proper words. Going up to bed was a haze, and she only really woke up when she stubbed her toe at the bottom of the stairs (Anthony hadn't told her that was there, despite saying he'd guide her). She was sure she brushed her teeth, Jessica would have checked, and they were all already in their pyjamas, but the only other thing she remembered before dropping off completely was seeing Anthony's face on the pillow next to her, already snoring lightly.

~~~

Y/n couldn't remember most of Anthony's sixth birthday now, what with all the memories that came in between, but she did remember his joy at receiving her present.

He'd spent the majority of the morning since Y/n and her family went next door gloating about how he was finally six, and now he was old enough to do so much more than Y/n (who was still five). She'd rolled her eyes, laughing when he did victory dances all around the house, and laughing even harder when he fell over while doing one of the previously mentioned dances.

They'd run away and hidden in his room in the attic after collecting plates of cake, and Y/n made sure to pick up her carefully wrapped present on the way up. He'd noticed immediately that she was carrying it, of course, he was far too observant to miss it, and had demanded that she let him open it right then and there. Initially she'd refused, feeling shy and worried that he wouldn't like it, but he'd given her one of his secret smiles, one of the ones reserved specifically for her, and said "Please?" so sweetly she caved.

He placed the cake to the side, then spent a good minute unwrapping the gift, being oh so gentle with the paper in fear of breaking it. When he saw the item inside, his smile burst out, bright and blinding, and Y/n felt her own smile form on her face, pleased at his reaction.

"Do you like it?" Nerves were still coursing through her, but they left her body when he raised his head and met her eyes.

"I love it, Y/n/n," he whispered, lifting the picture frame all the way out of the wrapping. She'd convinced her parents to print the photo off, and then spent hours making a frame that would fit it perfectly, complete with lolly sticks and stickers, trying to make the best gift for the best friend she'd ever had.

The photo was the two of them the previous Christmas, bundled up in ridiculous festive jumpers and sat in front of the Lockwood family tree in the hallway, presents surrounding them. Their parents had insisted on a photo before they ruined the area with rubbish everywhere, and the two of them could barely contain their excitement. There was a slight blur to them, a testament to their energy, but their smiles were so wide and they were hugging so tightly Y/n knew it was the perfect photo to give him.

"Where did you even get this? I thought your mum hid the camera?"

Y/n giggled at his comically wide eyes. "I just asked her, silly. I did have to do some chores but I didn't mind, it was worth it."

She barely had time to move her plate of cake out of the way (she hadn't eaten any in the last few minutes, far too focused on Anthony's reaction) when he surged forward, bringing his arms around her in a crushing hug.

"Thank you," he said, although it was muffled since his head was pressed into her shoulder.

"Anything for you, Ant, anytime."

They stayed there for a while, just hugging on his bed and revelling in each others' presence, both knowing that Y/n had meant her words.

~~~

When Anthony had to fight his parents' ghosts, Y/n had cried.

He was crying too, since he'd seen them die less than a day ago and now he had to keep them dead, but seeing her best friend in so much pain had made Y/n cry harder.

Anthony was trying to push back the tears so that he could see, so that he could fight, and Y/n hated that he was doing this on his own.

She had been kept in her room by her parents, the adults being too scared for their daughter's safety to let her go and help Anthony, and she was watching him through her bedroom window. Despite the tears streaming down her face and the sobs racking her body, she could tell he was crying (or trying not to) because of the way he was hunched into himself, as if by making himself smaller he could make everything stop. His body was shaking too, heaving with silent cries as he fought off the two ghosts in front of him. Why they were in his back garden, Y/n wasn't sure, since they'd died on the road in an explosion a few minutes drive away, but she was only six, and didn't understand much anyway.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, perched on the window seat with her gaze fixed on the boy next door, but she knew that it was far past her bedtime when he finally stopped them, and she woke up with her face stuck to the window, tear stains on her cheeks.

Realising it was light again, Y/n hurried to get dressed, tearing down the stairs and into the house next to them, knocking rapidly on the front door. It swung open a few moments later, revealing Jessica, who smiled sadly at the small girl in front of her and waved Y/n in.

"He's in his room," she said quietly, voice raw from crying.

Y/n nearly tripped countless times climbing the many stairs, and by the time she'd made it to the attic she was out of breath. Pushing his door open, and going up the last few steps (seriously, why were there so many steps?) she froze at the top when she saw him curled up under his bedsheets, shaking with near-silent cries.

"Anthony?"

She heard him sniff, the sound gross and snotty, and then he turned his body around to face her, and Y/n felt her heart break in her chest.

He clearly hadn't slept all night, eyes red from crying and lack of sleep, and he was struggling to keep back the fresh tears that threatened to break through.

"Oh, Ant."

Y/n rushed to the bed, climbing to sit next to him and pulling his head into her lap, brushing her fingers through his hair.

They sat like that for hours, long after Jessica brought up some toast for the two of them, and even when Y/n's back hurt from the headboard and her legs were numb from having his weight on them, she didn't stop stroking his hair, soothing him silently.

When he finally sat up, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose (Y/n made a mental note to put her clothes in the wash as soon as she got back home), she pulled him back in for a hug, both of them sat up this time.

"Thank you, Y/n/n."

She remembered the last time they'd done this, hugged on his bed while he thanked her, but this time it wasn't happy.

"Anything, Ant. Anytime."

~~~

"Ant, don't be stupid!" Y/n giggled, watching him climb the tree.

"I'm gonna get you an apple," he shouted, smiling down at her. "You're gonna love it, I promise!"

He'd just been reaching out for one, bright red and shining, when they'd heard a crash from inside his house, followed by a scream. They'd frozen where they stood, Y/n on the ground and Anthony in the tree, and then suddenly they snapped into action, scrambling to get inside and find Jessica.

They tore up the stairs (somehow Anthony had caught up to her, despite having been up the tree), and he pushed open her bedroom door just in time to see the ghost.

"NO!"

He moved before Y/n did, grabbing a spare rapier from the dresser and moving to fight, hoping to save his sister.

Y/n moved, but backwards, taking a step back out onto the landing, her hand on her mouth.

"Anthony."

He had pushed the ghost back, and was picking up a net.

"Anthony."

He had thrown the net over the broken pot, wrapping it up securely.

"Anthony," she said, eyes fixed on the bed.

"What?" His eyes were wide with terror as he turned to look at her, evidently scared that she was in danger, but when he followed her finger that pointed to the bed, he choked.

"No," he croaked hoarsely, and Y/n felt terrible for making him realise. "Jessica? Jessica please wake up. Jessica. Jessica, this isn't funny. Jessica, please. Jessica."

He kept on like that, repeating her name and asking her to wake up, but Y/n knew that she wouldn't. She moved again then, over to where he stood, rapier hanging limply in his hand. It had only been three years ago he'd lost his parents, why did he have to lose someone else that he loved? Pulling him into her, she let him sob into her shoulder (difficult, given his growth spurt).

Y/n knew at that point that she wouldn't ever leave him.

~~~

"You what?!"

"I'm starting training," Anthony replied, not looking up from where he stood at the kitchen counter, buttering toast.

"But... but why?"

"Because," he shrugged. When he didn't expand on it, Y/n sighed.

She was worried about him.

He'd been vacant, hollow, since Jessica's death, and although he tried to smile and make everybody think that he was doing just fine, Y/n knew her best friend better than that. She saw the bags under his eyes, the lack of joy and mischief that used to reside in his gaze.

"Because what, Anthony?"

"Look, I'll be fine. This guy called Nigel is gonna train me, and then I'll be an agent, and I can keep you safe."

"I can keep myself safe, idiot," Y/n huffed indignantly, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.

"I know, I just want to be extra sure that you'll be okay. And everyone else."

"We're nine, Anthony. You went to a funeral a week ago and already you're talking to agents?"

"Yes. I'd like it if you came with me, obviously, but if you don't that's fine too. I'm doing this anyway, with or without you."

That hurt.

They always did everything together, so why was he talking like this?

"Fine. I'll talk to my parents. You need protecting too, dummy."

She'd broached the subject that night at dinner, expecting them to say no.

"Are you sure you want to do this, darling?"

"Yep," she said, stabbing some peas with her fork.

Her parents shared a look.

"Alright. Just promise us you'll be careful, and you'll pay attention in your training, yeah?"

Surprise made Y/n jolt, sending peas skidding across the table. "I can go?"

"Yes, but you have to promise us-"

"I promise!" Her parents chuckled, shaking their heads in a way that reminded Y/n of Monopoly and a late night.

~~~

Training was horrible.

Everybody was mean to her, just because she couldn't run as fast as the others, or move as quickly with a rapier.

"Look at her, she's gonna die within minutes!"

"Nah, she'll never make it that long. On the plus side, if she's in our group we only have to run faster than her!"

"Won't be too difficult!"

Y/n scowled at the whispers, making her way over to Anthony. She huffed, plopping down on the bench next to him and glaring at the girls.

"What's up with you?"

"They're being mean about me. Saying I'll be useless in the field."

"Aw, Y/n/n, they're stupid if they think that. You'll be amazing, I'm sure." He nudged her shoulder with his, smile working its way onto his face. Y/n couldn't help but smile back; his was too infectious. "You'll prove them wrong, I'm sure of it."

After that day, Y/n worked ten times as hard on the practical elements, a new intensity coming into her training with the other agents. She sparred against Anthony when they got home, blunt rapiers clashing in her back garden while her parents cooked dinner.

Within a month, she could beat pretty much everyone she trained with, the only exception being Anthony. He'd shown a skill with the rapier from the very beginning, and his long body made him graceful in a fight. She'd nearly beaten him a few times, but then he'd had a fire light in his eyes and he'd push her back, focus deadly as he forgot everything but the fight. She grew scared in those moments, and had stopped trying to beat him, afraid that he'd forget who she was and hurt her.

~~~

When they were fourteen, Y/n broke her promise and walked out on Anthony Lockwood.

He'd started a business, his own goddamn agency, in his own goddamn house, and he'd wanted her to work with him. She barely recognised the boy that stood in front of her the day he asked her; he was a shell of the best friend she used to have. He was vacant still, and she just wanted Anthony Lockwood back.

"Please? It'll be so much better if we're working together! You can come and live here, and your parents are still next door so you're not too far away, and we'll go on cases together, and it'll be great!"

Y/n had shaken her head, fear creeping up her spine. He'd grown a death wish recently, and although he vehemently denied it, she'd seen how he didn't seem to care about his personal safety when on cases led by the trainers.

"Anthony, you can't do this, please. You're gonna get hurt," she pleaded, hoping he'd come to his senses. If he wasn't so broken, she'd say yes, gladly, and work with him as they had always planned they would. But he was broken, and this job could destroy him.

"What, do you think I can't do it?" His brow furrowed in confusion, and Y/n could practically feel his guard start to go up.

He'd never done that with her before.

"It's not that, I just don't want you getting hurt. You're my best friend, Ant, and I don't wanna lose you."

"You won't lose me," he'd raised his voice slightly, pushing off of the kitchen counter as he got defensive. "You've seen me," he swept an arm out, referencing the training missions. "I'm the best agent they've got, and we both know it. I won't get hurt. I'm too good for that."

Y/n scoffed. "Do you hear yourself, Anthony? Do you realise how arrogant you sound? Because that's gonna get you killed." She'd raised her voice too, to match his, and she jabbed a finger into his chest.

"Arrogant? You think I'm arrogant? I thought we were 'best friends'?"

"Why did you say it like that?"

"What?"

"'Best friends', like we're not. You did little finger quotes like it was sarcastic."

"You always do this! Make something out of nothing!"

"What?" Her eyes narrowed. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You tell me! You're the one saying I'm gonna get killed when I'm the most skilled agent we know! Why can't you just trust me?!"

"Because you will, Anthony! You will get yourself killed, and I can't let that happen! You can't start a company, just join Fittes, or Rotwell!"

"Fittes? Rotwell? I'd rather eat my own foot than join one of them! You just think I'm not capable of any of this, don't you? You think, that because my family is dead, I can't do this, because I should be grieving instead. Well I have grieved, and if you don't want to stay, then you can leave. I don't want you here if you're gonna keep being like this. Come back when you've sorted your attitude out." He turned his back, busying himself with making a cup of tea.

Y/n stared at him, mouth open in shock and tears threatening to fall.

"Prick. You're the one that needs to sort your attitude, not me."

She left then, grabbing her bag from the chair and scribbling a 'fuck you, Lockwood' onto the paper cloth on the table.

~~~

A year later, Y/n was working a job, and was actually somewhat happy.

She'd joined Fittes after her argument with Lockwood (she stubbornly refused to call him 'Anthony' until he'd apologised to her), and had been put in Quill Kipps' team. He was nice enough, arrogant and conceited at times, but Y/n put that down to his failing Senses and the stress of being team leader, since he was alright the rest of the time. He was more like an overworked teacher on a school trip with a bunch of primary school kids, and the bags under his eyes really added to the image.

It was a minor threat, Type One ghost that was giving an old lady the creeps, but they'd been waylaid on their way back to Fittes by a group of ghosts in the park, and two figures struggling to fight them all. There had to have been around twenty to thirty ghosts (all Type Ones, but they were angry), and when Kipps wondered aloud who would be so daft as to take them on, Y/n sighed, knowing exactly who would do it.

The Fittes team had jumped in, using the remainder of their flares and energy to help, and Y/n found the source, securing it quickly and efficiently. Mass graves were never fun, and this one wasn't much better. Spreading the silver net over the area, Y/n stood, careful not to jostle it.

"We don't need Fittes coming in, thanks, we were perfectly fine on our own."

"Sure," Kipps snorted. "Because being completely surrounded by ghosts and nearly dying is being perfectly fine. Give it a rest, Tony. Go back to your house and leave the agent work to the professionals, yeah?" Y/n rolled her eyes as she got closer, but she couldn't help but agree with what her leader was saying.

Anthony Lockwood looked terrible.

She had no idea who the other boy was (although he did look vaguely familiar), but he at least didn't look like he was on death's door.

"Y/n?"

She raised her eyebrows (she still couldn't figure out how to raise just the one, despite practicing for hours).

"Lockwood."

He flinched, almost imperceptibly, but she knew him too well to miss it. Nobody else noticed.

"Why are you... Are you working for Fittes?"

"Yes." He wasn't getting more out of her, not until he apologised. Kipps was looking between the two of them, as was the other boy with Lockwood, both clearly confused.

"How do you know each other?" Kipps asked.

"We were-"

"We were neighbours. Didn't talk much outside of that." Her tone was bland, and her face nonchalant, and she turned to leave. "Has somebody called DEPRAC?" Ned nodded, waving the radio in his hand.

"Said they'd be two minutes. Should be here in a minute."

"Perfect. Can we get that tea now, Kipps?"

He hesitated, obviously still unsure about what was going on. "Sure. We'll drop the other Source off first though, yeah?"

They left, and although Y/n could feel Lockwood's stare on her back, she didn't turn around.

~~~

It was a month later that Y/n saw Lockwood again, and it was almost the same situation. Her team had been patrolling the streets, making sure the area was secure, when they'd seen magnesium flares going off. They'd rushed in, and Y/n had scoffed when she caught sight of the long black coat and flashy moves.

"Outta the way, Tony!"

The Fittes team had made quick work of the Type Two, bagging the Source and claiming the reward. Y/n felt a little bad about the money, but at the same time Lockwood needed to learn how to get control over the situations he put himself in if he wanted to keep the reward. He seemed to take on the cases that were ridiculously out of his reach, and if Y/n was speaking to him she'd guess that he was trying to prove a point.

She and her team were warming up in a cafe afterwards, one of the late night ones that opened specifically for agents, when Lockwood and his coworker walked in. The pair breezed past, and when the other boy had smiled apologetically at them and given Y/n a little wave, she remembered who he was.

"George! Wait, it is George, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah," he scratched the back of his head, and adjusted his glasses on his face. "I wasn't sure you remembered me, to be honest."

"I knew I'd seen you before, it just took me a bit to remember where from. Also it was dark the last two times we saw each other, so that won't have helped. Anyway, how are you?"

They chatted for a while, George shifting the piles of paper he had in his arms.

"Do you need to put those down?" she asked after he readjusted them for what seemed like the millionth time.

"I should probably get over to Lockwood, actually. I'm pretty sure he's burning holes in my jumper right now."

"Oh, he's glaring at me, don't worry."

"Why would he be glaring at you? You're lovely," he questioned, confused. "I thought you were just neighbours anyway?"

"Yeah. We had an argument a while back. He was a knob."

"Oh. Yeah, I can see that he would be." George nodded in understanding. "I should definitely go and join him though. We've got all this to get through," he held up the papers slightly, and Y/n smiled up at him.

"Well good luck, George. See you soon?"

"Probably the next time you save us. Lockwood has a death wish apparently. Doesn't let me research for long enough," he complained, shaking his head as he turned and left. Y/n had been right. Lockwood was being reckless, and he'd get himself, and quite possibly George, killed.

She and her team were just finishing up, with Kipps paying the bill and her other teammates standing with him at the till, when Lockwood came over. Y/n had stepped outside, breathing in the cold night air, and when she heard the door she instinctively turned to look, expecting her coworkers.

"Oh. It's you."

"C'mon. Don't be like that, Y/n."

She snorted. "You know you're proving me right, right? You keep throwing yourself into situations you can't win in, and you're going to get yourself killed."

"I'm not proving you right," he started, frown forming on his face. He'd had another growth spurt, she realised. He'd stepped closer to her, out of the way of the cafe door so that other agents could enter, and now he towered over her.

"Yes, you are. Stop being a dick, Lockwood, and realise that you're going to get yourself seriously hurt someday."

"Since when was I Lockwood to you?"

"You know when."

"True. Lovely message, by the way. Great parting gift."

"Yeah, well you were being an asshole, and it felt fitting to write 'fuck you'."

He muttered something under his breath, too quiet for her to hear.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, 'Yeah, I bet you'd like to'," he repeated, louder this time, meeting her eyes with a smug smile on his face.

"Grow up, Lockwood."

"That's not a denial."

Y/n turned to him, looking him dead in the eyes. "Yes it is." She tried to sound threatening, but that was difficult when he was nearly a whole head taller than her. She was saved by her team coming out of the cafe, and she shoved her hands in her pockets, hunching her shoulders against the chill.

"You alright, Y/n?" Kipps asked, concern for his colleague appearing on his face.

"Yeah, fine. Let's go."

~~~

Those meetings kept happening, and it was beginning to frustrate Y/n.

Lockwood had started being more flirty, as if he actually enjoyed getting on her nerves, and the past year had been exhausting.

It was the same every time.

Y/n's Fittes team would be patrolling, or coming back from a job, or heading to a job, when they'd see two figures, or their flares, or hear their shouts, fighting an incessant number of ghosts. The group would jump in, joining the fight, and somehow Y/n and Lockwood ended up next to each other. She was certain he engineered it that way specifically so that he could irritate her with his comments, and that just irritated her even more. What he said was always the same thing, too.

"Do you come here often?"

"We have to stop meeting like this."

"What are you doing after this?"

When she told him to shut up and focus on the job, he'd ignore her, or answer with something just as bad.

"Make me."

"I'll stop talking if you join me later."

Both of those were said with smug smirks and winks, and Y/n went home to her crappy flat close to the Fittes building (she couldn't stand being near him after the argument) every night wondering what the hell had happened to her old best friend.

The last case had been particularly annoying.

The same routine had occurred, but this time there were three of them.

Y/n was surprised to see the girl, but as soon as she saw her fighting she decided that she liked her. She was feisty, and from what Y/n could tell, didn't take any of Lockwood's shit. She looked like the sort of person Y/n would be friends with, or at least get along with, like with George (they had limited contact outside of saving them).

But then the Fittes team had helped, and Lockwood hadn't come near Y/n.

She was glad in some ways, it meant she didn't have his incessant flirting in her ear, and she was glad, until she looked to see where he'd gone.

He was side by side with the girl, and they fought together like they'd been doing it their whole lives. For some reason it annoyed Y/n, despite the fact she'd sworn to block out any feelings for Lockwood other than annoyance and hate, and she grumbled the rest of the night. Kipps picked up on it, and questioned her.

"What's up with you? Surely you'd be happy that Tony left you alone?"

"Yeah, I am. It's something else, don't worry."

"Alright... well, don't let it get to you too much, yeah? We need you focusing on missions, you're too good at what you do."

Y/n nodded, flushing slightly at the compliment.

They made it to the cafe just as Lockwood and Co did, and Y/n bristled at seeing the three of them laughing together.

Well, at seeing Lockwood and the girl laughing together.

George she was just happy to see, he was always nice to her back when he worked at Fittes, and when they passed each other in the Archives or finished jobs together, and she didn't think she could ever be mad at him.

Lockwood and his new colleague, however, she could justify.

"Oh, hi!"

Ugh, she was nice. That made disliking her even harder.

"Hi," Y/n forced a smile, hoping it didn't look too fake.

"I'm Lucy," she said, coming closer to Y/n as the two of them trailed behind the others.

"Y/n. How long you been working with him then?"

"Uh, about a week? Do you... do you not like Lockwood or something?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You just... said 'him' like you wanted to rip his head off."

"Oh. Well, that's one thing I wanna do to him."

Apparently Lockwood tuned in to their conversation at that specific moment, because he turned around, smirk already in place.

"What are the other things you want to do to me, Y/n? I'd love to find out later. My place or yours?"

Y/n scoffed, pushing past him to join her teammates. Behind her she heard a thump, followed by a small "Ow!" Assuming that Lucy had hit him, Y/n smiled, and started liking the girl again. Maybe she wasn't as bad as she originally thought.

~~~

It had been nearly two years since Y/n had first met Lucy, and her second impression of the girl had stuck.

They'd saved Lockwood and Co far too many times since the girls had first met, but Y/n didn't mind. She enjoyed seeing Lucy and George (and Lockwood, but she wouldn't tell anyone that), and if getting involved and having to suffer Lockwood's chatter meant that the three of them lived another day, Y/n would gladly take that sacrifice.

Y/n and Lucy met up regularly in the down time that they both shared, either at Y/n's flat, or in a cafe or shop somewhere. Sometimes George came along, having snuck out under the pretence that he was researching at the Archives, and the three of them had lengthy chats about pretty much anything. Lockwood came up in conversation a lot, of course, given he was something they all had in common, but Y/n always steered away from the subject.

Tonight, however, she wasn't getting let off the hook.

"Why do you always do that?" Lucy asked, stuffing a chip in her mouth. They were sat on the floor of Y/n's tiny kitchen, take away boxes of food in front of them.

"Do what?"

"Whenever Lockwood gets mentioned you start talking about other things. Why do you do that?"

Y/n shrugged, eating some of her own food. "'Cause he's a knob and I don't want to think about him more than I have to?"

"He's always flirting with you though, and you always flirt back."

"Thanks for the observation, George. And I do not flirt back!"

"Oh you totally do, like earlier, right, he was saying something about how your uniform really compliments your complexion or something, and you look really good in it, and you said, wait, George, you take over, I need a drink," Lucy spoke.

"You said 'thanks, I look better without it', and winked at him. I had to physically push him out of the way of a ghost because he was stood staring at you like an idiot."

"He always looks like an idiot," Y/n mumbled, cheeks going red.

"George is right, he's actually gonna end up hurting himself if you two don't get on with it soon."

"He's at risk of death anyway! And get on with what?"

"Snogging," Lucy said, at the same time George said "Making out."

Y/n stared at her friends, hand pausing halfway to her mouth, chip in between her fingers. "What?!"

"Seriously, there's so much tension I could slice it with my rapier. Just stick your tongue in his mouth already."

"Lucy!"

The girl just shrugged. "We are seventeen, you know that right? I know people who've shagged at seventeen. I'm honestly surprised the two of you haven't yet, which is why you need to get on with it."

"That would be... no, that's too weird."

"Why is it weird? He's your old neighbour, you had an argument about something petty probably, and now he's flirting with you 'cause he's realised how hot you are. If he doesn't kiss you I will, just so I can say I kissed the hottest girl I know."

"Aw, thanks Luce. I'd rather kiss you than him, to be honest."

"The bar is low. He's punching."

"Definitely. You alright George?"

"I don't understand girls," he replied, having been quiet the last few minutes while Y/n and Lucy went back and forth. "What did you argue about, anyway? Because you've held a grudge against him for at least three years now and I have never known why."

"Was it petty?"

"No, Lucy, it wasn't petty." Y/n sighed, taking a break from eating. "He... We were fourteen, just finished all of our training, and he told me he wanted to start his agency."

"That is kinda petty though."

"Lemme finish. I don't know how much he's told you about his family," she paused, looking at the other two.

"Not much, but we know they're all dead."

"Yeah, and he showed us Jessica's room."

Y/n raised her eyebrows. He'd kept that room stubbornly locked since she'd died.

"Right. Well, a week after her funeral, he told me he wanted to start training to be an agent. We were nine, and he was definitely not okay at all. Anyway, we did it, and then like I said, when we'd finished, he told me he wanted to start an agency in his house and he wanted me to join him. He was still not himself, and I was just worried that he was going to end up killing himself. Hell, he'd almost hurt me a few times in training. We were the top two in our academy, so we ended up fighting together a lot. But he'd get... intense. Focused. But not in a good way. It was like... he saw anyone he was up against as a ghost, and he wanted revenge for what had happened with his family. We argued about the agency. I told him something about how if he did it he'd just end up hurt, because I knew him and I knew that he wouldn't think he had anything to live for. He took that to mean that I thought he was incapable, and he told me to leave and that I could come back when I'd fixed my attitude."

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, Y/n staring at her take away box in her lap, George and Lucy absorbing everything she'd told them.

"Fuck," Lucy finally said, breaking the quiet.

"Yeah."

"Wait, so you weren't just neighbours?" George asked. "You must have been closer than that if you knew him so well."

"Best friends. We're the same age, and our parents had lived next to each other since before we were born. Just made sense really that we were friends."

"Does he know? That you were worried about him?" Lucy questioned.

"Probably not. Should have guessed it though, given how close we were. I mean, he's seen me ugly cry at funerals, and they weren't even my relatives, they were his."

"Maybe you should talk to him? I know, I know, he needs to apologise for being a knob, but you were fourteen. I mean, it's three years on and he's still the mental age of a five year old, but talking might help?"

"Anyway, Lockwood's hopeless when it comes to women. Completely clueless," George added.

"How would you know?" Y/n frowned, not liking the way her heart clenched at the idea of Lockwood talking to other girls.

"Because he hasn't done anything about you, and you're probably the most amazing girl that's ever going to get a chance with in his life. Maybe he's intimidated by you."

"He's not getting a chance. Not like that. Don't look at me like that, Luce. If I don't kiss him that means I'm kissing you."

"Oh, alright then. I'm fine if you don't wanna make up with him," she replied, cheeky smile appearing on her face.

They left the topic alone after that, moving on to other subjects, but Y/n couldn't help but think about the boy with a death wish.

~~~

It was only a week after her evening with George and Lucy that Y/n had to help save Lockwood again (it was so ridiculous she was almost entirely convinced he came unprepared just so that he could see her).

"Miss me, darling?"

"In your dreams, Lockwood," she shouted back at him, dodging a Type Two. She gritted her teeth as she hit the ground, jagged rocks digging in and pain shooting through her side. Rolling, she stood again, panicking for a moment when she realised she'd dropped her rapier.

"Here you go, darling," Lockwood said, appearing out of nowhere with her rapier. "Do I get a reward for returning your belongings?"

"Yeah, you do, actually," she replied, getting close enough to him she could feel his breath on her face. "You get to not be stabbed by me. Duck." He did, almost immediately, and Y/n threw a flare at the Spectre behind him. Lockwood popped back up, somehow still smiling despite the utter carnage surrounding them.

"If I got hurt, would you visit me in hospital?"

"Yeah, to finish you off."

He laughed, and Y/n turned away so he couldn't see the blush rising on her face at the sound. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of something that definitely wasn't dead rummaging around where she had thought the Source for the cluster was.

Relic men.

"Lockwood?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Relic men, over by the Source. What are we gonna do about them?" She hadn't taken her eyes off of the two figures that were crouched by the oak tree, afraid that if she moved her gaze they would run off. When Lockwood only cursed, she panicked, wondering what was wrong. Normally by now he would have charged in to the fight, all guns blazing. Why wasn't he doing that now? Had he suddenly realised that she was right? Because this was really terrible timing if he had. "Lockwood?" Her voice had gone up in pitch, fear making it quiver. Relic men were nasty, and a lot harder to deal with than ghosts. Ghosts she'd been trained for.

"We're surrounded by them. They're blocking all reasonable exits."

"Shit. Okay. What about unreasonable exits?"

"What?"

"You said they're blocking all reasonable exits, yeah? So what about the unreasonable ones? Could we get out anywhere else?"

"Uh... there's a gap in the fence over there," he pointed. "But that would mean letting them have the Source. It's too powerful, we can't let that happen."

"Ugh, okay, hang on. Go and tell the others, just in case they haven't noticed."

"What about you?"

"I'm keeping an eye on these two, make sure they don't get away. I'll try and get closer, but there's a lot of Type Ones in the way."

"You'll be okay?"

"If I die you can take me on a date."

"That's... what? That doesn't make sense."

"Take it or leave it, Lockwood. Get a move on."

He left, casting a last look over his shoulder at her before disappearing into the night to find the others. Y/n felt unease creep up her spine, and she gripped her rapier tighter, her other hand hovering over the remaining flares in her belt. The relic men were still digging, and a few of the ghosts had noticed the disturbance now, moving over. Y/n frowned, a thought occurring to her.

Relic men waited until the ghosts were gone.

So what were they doing here, now? Why endanger themselves? Before she could think on it further, she felt the air shift behind her and ducked to the left just as a fist appeared in the space her head was in mere seconds ago.

Shit.

She pulled herself back up, readjusting her grip on the rapier and taking a quick glance over to the tree. Seeing the two relic men still there, Y/n whipped back around, ducking again just in time to miss the next punch. The man pulled out a knife, the edges jagged, and a wicked grin came over his face. Y/n gulped, then parried his attacks. He was relentless, swinging and then swinging again immediately after, never letting up on her. It was all she could do to keep her arm upright and strong enough to block him, and the ache in her side from hitting the ground earlier was turning into a throb that wracked her body with pain. The relic man noticed the weakness, and his grin grew wider, broken teeth showing. He became even more frantic in his attacks, and Y/n felt herself stumbling backwards over the grass. The floor was uneven, and she tripped, crashing onto her back. She got her rapier up in time to hold off the relic man's knife that had carved a path through the air to cut through her head, but he was stronger than her, and his blade was edging closer to her face. He was only using the one hand, and Y/n realised a split-second too late that his other hand was reaching for his belt, where a second knife was strapped. Her eyes widened in recognition briefly right before he plunged the blade into her side, and she let out a scream.

The pain was all-consuming, and it took everything in her to keep her rapier up, the shockwaves coursing through her body. She took a hazy note of the fact that he hadn't pulled it out yet, which was good, but her vision was blurry, which was not so good. At least if the knife was still inside her body then she wasn't losing too much blood. Her grip weakened, and she saw the other knife jolt towards her face before it disappeared, the man being flung backwards into the bushes in a flash of light. Lucy appeared, hair wild and filled with leaves, her own rapier in hand. She crouched down, pressing a hand to Y/n's cheek and checking if she was okay.

"Threw a flare at him, should knock him out for a while. LOCKWOOD! HURRY UP! Sorry, I told him to get his ass over here just now, but he's stuck with some ghosts, and they're-"

"Lucy?"

"Yeah?" Her voice was hopeful, glad that her friend was conscious enough to speak.

"Please stop talking."

"Y/N!"

She winced at the shout, and Lucy moved over to make room for Lockwood. Y/n rolled her eyes at the cuts on his face, and the gash on his arm. "You can't help yourself, can you? Gotta throw yourself into danger headfirst."

"Shut up. Can you sit?"

"Did you just tell me to shut up? Anthony Lockwood, do not tell me to shut up when I could be dying."

"Y/n, please, don't do this. Can you sit?" His voice was insistent, desperation seeping into his expression, and his glare was convincing enough that she tried to sit up. The pain in her side was too much though, and she ended up half-slumped against a tree. "Who did this? Y/n? Who did this to you?" His tone was lower now, with something dangerous in the background.

"Lucy hit him with a flare. He's over there somewhere." She waved in the general direction she'd seen him disappear in. "Anthony, where are you going?" He froze, looking down at her from where he now stood. The full moon was behind him, and he looked otherworldly in the silver light.

"Lucy will stay with you, okay? Just hang on. I'll be back in a minute. Don't die on me now, Y/n/n." He softened a little at the last part, trying to convey a million emotions in a few words.

"Wait, I'm staying here?"

"Yes, Lucy." And with that he left, stalking in the direction Y/n had pointed him in.

"You alright?"

"Brilliant, thanks Luce," Y/n replied, and then she promptly passed out.

~~~

A soft beeping woke Y/n up, and the harsh light above her and the sterile smell in the air immediately told her that she was in a hospital.

That didn't explain the warmth in her left hand though.

Blinking as she adjusted to the bright light, she turned her head to the left, and had she not been drugged up on painkillers she would have reacted much more quickly and jerked away.

But she was drugged up on painkillers, so instead she just stared at the boy asleep in the chair next to her bed.

Anthony looked peaceful when he slept, he always had, but he didn't look particularly comfortable right now. His right hand was holding her left, and he'd managed to pull one of his long legs up onto the chair, bracing his forehead on his knee while his left arm dangled off the side of the armrest. Yeah, he couldn't be comfortable like that. She squeezed his hand lightly, but he didn't wake. A nurse came in, and upon seeing Y/n awake, smiled.

"Your boyfriend must love you a lot. He hasn't left your side since you came in. Rode in the ambulance with you too, which he wasn't meant to. Paramedics said he was very insistent and needed treating anyway, so they let him. He's been really worried about you." Y/n was on too much morphine to fully comprehend what was going on, and her brain had stopped working properly at the word 'boyfriend' anyway.

"Oh," was all she said, and the nurse smiled, going through her checkups. Y/n drifted in and out of consciousness for half an hour before Anthony woke up.

He blinked a few times, just as she had, stretching like a cat, long limbs going everywhere but never removing his hand from hers. His grip only tightened, and when he saw her watching him with a small smile on her face, he returned it.

"You're awake."

"No, I'm dead," she deadpanned. "Obviously I'm awake, idiot. If I died I'd have to go on a date with you."

He frowned. "Would that really be so bad?"

"Yeah. You should be going on a date with me, not the other way around."

He laughed lightly, more an amused exhale than anything else. "You are so drugged up right now."

"Yep," she replied, popping the 'p'. His thumb was stroking across her hand, and Y/n wondered if he knew he was doing it.

~~~

"Ugh, do I have to live at yours? What's wrong with my house?"

"You live on the fifth floor and there aren't any lifts. You were also specifically told not to climb too many stairs."

"Yeah, but your house has almost as many stairs as my apartment building, so what's the difference?"

"The difference is that I can look after you here, because I live here. Don't touch that, it's still healing, and- ow!"

"Oh shit, sorry. It looks healed."

"Yeah, well you're not the only one that got stabbed, alright? Here, let me get the door."

Anthony sprung up the last step, fishing the keys out of his coat pocket and unlocking the door. Y/n followed behind, wincing when the movement up the stairs put pressure on her wound. She'd been in hospital for two weeks once she'd woken up, and had been told to stay at home until she was properly healed. Anthony had taken on the role of carer immediately, and the nurses had all mentioned (multiple times) what a good and loving boyfriend he was, looking after Y/n the way he was, despite his own injuries.

Neither of them had denied it.

Once inside 35 Portland Row, Y/n took a look around, and was surprised to see that it had barely changed in the last three years.

"Right. Tea? I think George has just put the kettle on."

"Anthony?"

"Yeah?" His smile was tentative, clearly not wanting to scare her off when she'd just started calling him by his first name again.

"Please don't make me sleep on the sofa. Because that looks like the same one your parents got when we were four and I remember how uncomfortable that one is." She pointed to the sofa in question, and he shook his head.

"No, you're not sleeping there. What sort of a boyfriend would I be if I let that happen?" he joked, and Y/n felt her heart flutter at the idea. "You can sleep in my bed, alright? It's only one flight of stairs, which will hurt, but it'll be good for you to get the exercise in, make sure you're healing properly."

Y/n frowned. "Where are you sleeping if I'm in your bed?" She half expected him to say that he'd be right next to her, but he smiled softly again.

"Sofa. No, don't look at me like that, I've slept in worse places."

"What worse places? Ant, you've got to look after yourself! God, you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."

She started making her way up the stairs, huffing from the effort. She was tired, despite having spent just over two weeks lying down, and it was already late in the evening.

"It doesn't matter, alright? Just... let's just get you to bed, okay?"

"You're sleeping in a bed, and that's that."

"You are so stubborn sometimes."

"So are you!" She made it to the half landing, and hobbled over to the door she remembered being Anthony's. "You still in here?" At his nod, she pushed the door open, going over to the bed and sitting on the edge. "Seriously, this bed is big enough for the both of us. I'm not letting you sleep on the sofa, Ant. It's super uncomfortable."

"Won't that be... I don't know. Won't that be weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

"Because we haven't... we're not... you don't like me and I'm scared you're going to murder me in my sleep."

"You... what? Uh... okay. I'm not gonna murder you in your sleep, Ant. One, that's completely dishonourable. I would do it while you were awake so that you could look into the eyes of your killer. Two, I do like you, I just also need you to apologise. For what you said."

"You want me to apologise? I was just defending myself, because I was hurt by what you said. You made out like I wasn't capable and that stung, because you'd always been my biggest supporter."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Anthony. I wasn't saying that at all. I was worried about you because you weren't yourself after Jess died. You were... I don't know. You weren't you, and it freaked me out when you said you were starting an agency, because it's a crazy thing to do! You sort of became a shell of my best friend, and disappeared, and I was worried that you would die and I would lose you because you wouldn't care about living anymore. I know that you are perfectly capable of fighting, and you're one of the best swordsmen I've ever met, but you're an emotional wreck, Ant."

He was quiet for a bit, staring into space as he thought about her words. Y/n sighed, lying down on the covers and closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She felt the bed dip next to her as he sat down. "I'm sorry. I said some horrible things to you and you had every right to leave. I don't have an excuse for what I said, and if you want to leave tomorrow morning then I'll help you move into your flat again. But I just... I'm sorry, Y/n/n."

Y/n sighed again. "I don't want to go. I've missed it here," she admitted. "And yeah, you were an idiot and an arse, but you're my idiot, alright? You have a lot of grovelling to do as well." He nodded rapidly, and a secret smile spread on his face, one of the ones he showed her and nobody else.

"Your idiot?"

"Yes, Anthony. My idiot." They smiled at each other, soft and gentle. A thought occurred to Y/n, and her brow furrowed. "What happened after I passed out in the park? All I remember is you looking murderous and asking who stabbed me."

"Oh, right." Anthony looked away, blush creeping up his neck.

"What happened?"

"He's not coming after you again, if that helps. Or anyone. DEPRAC completely purified the area."

Y/n gaped at him. "You killed him?"

Anthony shrugged. "He hurt you, badly, and you could have been killed. If Lucy had been a second later..." He trailed off, eyes clouding over slightly.

"Ant?" Y/n pushed herself up into a sitting position, wincing at the stab of pain that shot through her in protest.

"Hmm?" he turned to look at her, and his eyes went wide when she slid an arm up around his neck.

"Lucy and George think that we need to make out."

"They, uh... they what?"

"They think that we need to make out."

He swallowed thickly, eyes flickering between hers, trying to figure out what was going on. When he spoke, it was in a hoarse whisper.

"What do you think?"

"I think we should listen to them. They're normally right about things. What about you?"

"Uh... okay?"

Y/n hesitated, suddenly unsure.

"Ant, do you want to? Because if you don't that's totally fine, I just assumed that you felt the same as me, and we were both fine with the hospital thinking that we're dating, and I genuinely really like you, and I probably love you-" she was cut off by his lips on hers, slightly chapped but still soft.

"I do want to, I'm just hopeless around girls, especially the ones I've loved since I was about ten." He'd barely pulled away, his nose brushing the side of hers, breath fanning over her lips.

"George was right about that too, then," she murmured, kissing him again. "He said you were hopeless with women."

"Thank god. I thought he knew I've been in love with you for years."

"Oh you're in love now, are you?"

"Started about seven years ago, but sure." He pushed forward again, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek as he kissed her softly and slowly.

"Is that why you flirted with me?"

Anthony flushed, nodding slightly. "In my defence I am completely hopeless with pretty girls, and I wanted to know if there was any chance of you sharing my feelings."

Y/n kissed him again, short and sweet. "I love you, Anthony Lockwood. Just look after yourself more, yeah?"

"I love you too," he replied. Y/n prodded him in the side.

"And?"

"And I'll look after myself more," he said, smiling. "Anything for you, anytime."

They kissed again, for longer this time, exploring each other and being mindful of their injuries, and Y/n thought she could happily spend eternity wrapped up in his arms

"You're definitely not sleeping on the sofa," she said when they paused for air a while later.

"If you say so," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. She smacked a hand against his chest, face going red at his implication.

"Not like that, idiot."

"Your idiot," he smiled, pure joy on his face as he pecked her lips.

"My idiot," she replied, mirroring his grin.

[waywardstation]

Cold to the Touch

Phione Akari AU

As a phione, it's hard for Akari to find anything fun or entertaining to do. But she still manages, even if it's at Ingo's expense.

I wrote this after I got a request to write about something for this AU with lower stakes and let Akari have some fun, after putting out several segments that were pretty stressful and sad for the characters. And if possible, to have her prank Ingo. I did my best hopefully!!!

OR read here on AO3!

AND check out the Phione Akari AU masterpost!

Enjoy!

————

There were many, many things Akari hated about being a Phione. 

Many changes. Many limitations. Many problems. 

But this was not one of them. 

In fact, she found that this was quite fun.

“And if I could have two of those leek salves, and a half-bag of those dried apricorns?”

Choy grabbed two small purple bottles and began weighing out a bag of the nut fruits as Ingo browsed the wares at the storefront, pointing out what he wanted to purchase. While there wasn’t much room with everything out on display, he did his best to keep himself under the protection of the storefront’s awning — the rain was coming down hard today.

And as much as he disliked the idea of dragging all of this stuff around with him in the coastlands, especially in weather like this, he had promised Akari he would actually take better care of himself out there now while continuing his search.

No more sleeping on the ground, or against trees and boulders. No more living off whatever he picked off of bushes and trees. No more foregoing needed sleep for a few more hours of searching. No more sacrificing his health when he didn’t need to.

“Anything else for you today?” Choy asked as he placed them down next to the other items that had been requested.

“Oh, one last thing; do you perhaps have a lightweight roll or sleeping mat?” Ingo searched past the shopkeeper at the storage shelves behind him, leading Choy to look over his shoulder — he could see what looked like a few different sleeping rolls. “Like the ones the Ginkgo Guild members are equipped wITh-!”

An awkward jerk as Ingo scrunched his neck into his shoulder, crashing the sentence with an odd jump. A subsequent squeak from somewhere in his coat collar, quiet enough for only Ingo to hear.

“Everything alright?” Choy looked back from the shelves, giving him a look halfway between confusion and concern.

“I uh, apologize. Unfortunately, too many nights sleeping on the ground has left me with a sore spine, is all.” Ingo tentatively answered, rubbing at his neck. “It… pulls sometimes. I’m sure you can now understand my need for an adequate sleeping mat.”

“Oh yes, of course,” Nodding his head, Choy stepped away from the shelf he had been approaching. “I understand! These rolls might be too thin; I have some thicker ones in the back that might be better for that. I’ll be right back with one.”

Ingo watched the man disappear behind the rows of shelves, making sure he was out of earshot before he hooked his lapel with a finger and pulled it back.

“Miss Akari, please!” He whispered into the collar of his coat. He could not see her and he was too saturated with rainwater to feel where she was, but he knew she was in there somewhere; he could hear her snickering. “You know I’m not fond of that!”

“Phi-phi!” She retorted. While Ingo had no idea what she was saying, the bubbly tone of amusement in her voice indicated she wasn’t taking him seriously.

He was sure it was because of a phione’s adaptability to water and its strange thermoregulatory characteristics — Professor Laventon had said something about it — but whenever it rained, Akari became just as cold as the falling water that mixed with her. Like ice cold. It turned her little flippers into something more like the freezing hands of death. And she unfortunately found it funny to -

“AH!” The frigid touch of Akari’s ribbon-like appendage (now more comparable to the frozen fingers of a froslass) against his neck made him flinch before forcing himself back down into a whisper. “Miss Akari-!”  

“Warden?” Choy called out from the back. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Not to worry, it’s simply an instance of my neck bothering me again!” Ingo lied through his teeth. One last quick whisper into his coat collar, towards quiet giggling. “Please-”

“Alright, I’ve got a couple here that you can look at!” Returning from the back shelves, Choy heaved a bundle of various mats onto a display table with a grunt. “All varying degrees of sturdiness, but maybe you’ll like one of them.”

Ingo browsed the mats, pressing down on the different materials and lifting edges to test heaviness. Some were too firm to be kind to his back, and some were too bulky to comfortably carry. None of them seemed very suitable for him, honestly... 

As he browsed, Ingo couldn’t help but notice he was actually being left alone. No icy jabs, no startling coldness. Maybe Akari was listening to him now. it was nice not feeling the freezing hands of death grasping at the back of his-

“GHh-!” Ingo jerked awkwardly again, tucking his chin down against his chest and hissing through his teeth. He spoke too soon.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a thicker mat? Or at least a neck roll for support? It seems…” Choy stalled for a moment, filtering his words into something kinder. “Bad.”

“No no, I can assure you it’s temporary! It’s simply rather distracting, ” Ingo emphasized the last word quite forcefully, rubbing at his neck. “I’m confident that’s the last time it’ll happen.”

“Maybe at least have the medical corps look at it before you go.” Choy did not sound any less concerned.

“Perhaps I will make that detour,” Ingo brushed it off kindly. He was going to have to make this quick, it seemed Akari was intent on embarrassing him in public just for some amusement. “I apologize for having you drag all of these mats out, but I may have to go with one of the previous, lighter alternatives.”

“Not a problem,” Choy pushed the heavier rolls aside and turned to pull down one he had initially suggested; a simple green one, tied with wound rope. “This mat’s good then?”

“I believe so,” Already searching through the inner pockets of his coat for money, Ingo only gave the roll a passing glance to confirm. “I think that’s everything I need.”

“Sounds good,” Choy lugged the mat up onto the table, bunching it with everything else he had requested and quickly reevaluating it all. “Alright, together that’ll be seven-thousand six-hundred.”

“Mm-hmm,” Head down, Ingo began counting out what he had in his hands. He should have enough…

“Oh, but wait-”

Thinking something was wrong, Ingo glanced up only to see Choy setting a small box on top of his pile of supplies.

“Just a few honey cakes, no extra charge.”

Ingo blinked, not catching the sudden tiny squeak from within his coat. “No charge? Thank you, and please understand I am not at all ungrateful for the offer, but… I’d like to know why?”

“Well, because I appreciate your business!” Short and simple, Choy clasped his hands together.

Ingo sized up the box; it wasn’t terribly big, but it certainly wasn’t small either. Truely, it was a kind gesture, but to him, all he saw was more cargo to lug around, more weight to tug at his back. And he wasn’t sure he could keep it from becoming soggy in the rain, anyways. 

And he couldn’t help but feel that it was perhaps a pity gesture; he knew Choy had seen him practically drag himself through Jubilife’s gates the other day.

“I greatly appreciate it, but I couldn’t in good conscience, really.” Ingo gave Choy an apologetic, flat-lined smile, putting up a hand. “Those are your wares! Please, keep them.”

Another small squeak, and this time Ingo heard it. He preemptively placed his hand over his neck just before she could touch him, her icy flippers patting his fingers instead.

“Then take it as a gift of support, please.” Choy extended a more genuine tone now, he confirmed what Ingo had suspected about it being a pity gesture. “I know what all of these supplies are for, Warden. You’ve been doing so much to find Akari, and this weather definitely isn’t making things any easier for anyone right now. And I can empathize; all this sudden rain’s been making it hard for Yui today. She can’t seem to shake this terrible sickness that won’t leave her alone, and it’s been really difficult lately to-”

“AAa -HaAH-!” Ingo interrupted with an embarrassingly loud shout, suddenly jerking forward with scrunched shoulders as both hands frantically clamped against his neck. “Just- Ahck! Stop it-!”

“...I’m sorry?” Staring at Ingo in bewilderment, the appalled tone of Choy’s voice was painfully shame-inducing. The heavy atmosphere pressed down on Ingo’s shoulders, the rain in his coat suddenly pulling down on him like heavy weights.

Oh Arceus. Did he really just laugh while Choy was empathizing with him over his sick wife? 

Did he really just say stop it??

“Ahem!” Ingo cleared his throat gratuitously into a fist, his face burning like fire as he realized what he just did. “M-my deepest apologies for that! Illness is terribly unfortunate, and I hope for nothing but a quick recovery for your poor wife! I absolutely didn’t mean to- Please, excuse me for a moment!”

“Right.” Choy crossed his arms, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed as Ingo stiffly hurried out into the rain, rushing around the right corner of the store.

Reaching the bridge that led to the housing units, Ingo stopped and made sure no one else was around to hear. Reaching into his coat collar and fishing Akari out of it, he held her close to his (still very red) face with one hand, sternly shaking a finger at her with the other. “Miss Akari!” Don’t- don’t do that! Just because I said no cold shocks, that doesn’t mean you can start tickling m-!”

“Phi-phi!” She squeaked back at him avidly. He didn’t understand, but with her troubled eyes and tone, he could clearly see she wasn’t laughing anymore — she probably realized how inappropriate the timing of that was, regardless of how accidental it was.

Ingo’s frown pulled, his eyes narrowing from behind the raindrops now dripping off his hat’s brim. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, Miss Akari, but I recall you fervently requesting me to keep you both concealed and inconspicuous while in Jubilife. I’d say this is making it difficult to do either!”

“Phi!” Freezing cold flippers wrapped around his thumb as she hugged it tightly. She often did that when expressing gratitude or apologetics to him, an extension of hugging him as a whole. Her guilty eyes indicated it was clearly the latter reason, this time.

“It’s alright, just please, please, don’t repeat it. I would very much like to complete this transaction in peace.” Ingo accepted the apology. He had planned for that to be the end of it and moved his hand to place her back in his coat collar, but she squeaked at him again.

When Ingo pulled her back, she made an exaggerated motion that resembled eating, holding her flippers up and mimicking taking bites out of something. 

He couldn’t make a guess until she pointed at the side of the general store, then repeated the motion again.

“The honey cakes? You wanted those honey cakes?”

“Phi!” She clapped her flippers together, celebrating his correct guess.

“Just one of those is bigger than your head; it takes you two days to consume one.” Ingo shook his head. “And there are several in that box; I’m afraid they’ll go to waste.”

Akari made a pleading motion and held her flippers together up at him with big eyes, but otherwise she grew quiet, and Ingo’s features softened.

She’s had it very hard. He knew that. These past few weeks had been terrible and frustrating and confusing. And while the last three days had certainly been much happier with his revelation over who she was, it still… it didn’t have much in it to be happy about in general, and he knew Akari was depressed with her limitations.

The giggles she had let out in his coat earlier was the first time he had really heard her laughing or having fun in a long while (even if it had been at his expense… but really, as a phione, there weren’t many things she could do to entertain herself right now).

So what was the harm in getting her some simple sweets? Giving her something to be happy about?

Ingo’s words left his mouth in a cloud of breath, visible in the frigid air. “Alright, Miss Akari. I will get them for you.”

“Phi!” She squeaked, a little surprised, but clearly happy. She hugged her flippers around his thumb again in a gesture of gratitude as he brought her back to his shoulder, tugging the lapel of his coat back.

“But please do your best to finish them! And please, no more cold touches. Or tickling.” He added as she wiggled back into her spot, amongst the folds of his tunic’s hood. “I would not like to laugh at that poor young man’s sick wife for a second time.”

The subsequent giggling at his shoulder was his only response as he smoothed his coat collar back down, but that was enough for him.

Now. To somehow find the strength to go back and face Choy. Ingo took a deep breath, steeling himself as he turned to walk back around the corner of the building. Ugh, he could already feel the blush of shame returning.

“I’d like to once again apologize for that outburst,” Rounding the corner, Ingo took his place back before Choy, who still appeared rightfully upset; arms now crossed, the store owner seemed much less amiable now. “Truely, I didn’t mean to laugh during such a sensitive subject.”

“Was that the fault of your sore neck as well?” Choy reached up to take his glasses and clean a few stray raindrops off them with his hanten. His words were painfully flat.

“Ahah… uhm, no,” Ingo coughed. “My mind simply reminded me of very ill-timed joke. Very unfortunate timing.”

Choy didn’t really believe him, Ingo could see it in his eyes. Regardless, he adjusted his glasses back on his nose, and went to grab up Ingo’s items, sliding them across the display table. “Unfortunate indeed. Here are your items, Warden.”  

“Oh, thank you. Though also, before I depart-” Ingo held out the money he owed, but began searching through his coat pockets again. “I believe I’ve had a track change; I would like those honey cakes after all. But please, allow me to pay for it in full; it’s the least I could do. And again, I do hope your wife recovers swiftly.”

It seemed Choy’s hardened features softened a little as Ingo dropped the money into his hand.

[italianpersonwithashippersheart]

DFF Questions And Theories Recap

I wanted to do a post where I could put down all the major questions that are still unanwered from the show and give all my thoughts and theories on each.

What Happened to Non?

Earlier I saw this post by @slayerkitty that pretty much outlined my own thoughts on this.

I have been leaning into the idea that the boys pranked and drugged him for a while now. And episode 7 just confirmed it.

What I am the most unsure off, is what happened after. Because the fact that some of these boys seem to be sure he is dead while others aren't makes me think that something happened after the prank

Now is Non alive? This one I am not sure off, if he is I am leaning thowards maybe him being in a coma or catatonic or in some kind of hospitalized situation, maybe under a fake name, thanks to Phi's dad.

Because the Mafia (Tee's Uncle) want him dead, so a fake name for both him and his brother/family might be to keep them safe.

I am not positive he is the third killer (if there even is one) if he is alive.

Most of my brain is on camp Non is dead. For the simple reason that Tan especially seem to be focused on knowing what happened to Non, and/or getting a confession. And if he can talk to Non there would just be no used for that. There would be no need to wait that long. I don't know just a feeling.

Who Are The Killers and How Many there are? And Is Tan Non's older brother?

I will start with the obvious, Phi has to be one of the killers, we are all on board with that.

While my previous theory was that Tan was not the brother and the brother was an unknown player I think I have changed my mind.

I am now 90% sure Tan is New, Non's older brother. Am I still a little bit miffed they probably casted an actor who is the same age as Barcode to play his older brother, yeah, but I figured if the actor pulls it off I can overlook the real life age, it's not like we have not ignored that before in BL land.

About the number I waffle back and fort. I am currently leaning more with there are only two killers. But I can't ever fully commit to it. If you discount the quick appereances I think I have a handle on who did what and when, mostly. And they could have definately pulled it off just Phi and Tan.

Again I do still think the way the guy that is supposed to come pick them up was introduce feel like a set up for a third killer. But it could just be about making sure they are trapped there. I don't know.

I think that Tan might be a bit of blank character on porpouse because if he is the brother, which I am becoming more and more sure with each episode, the bulk of his characterization will be post reveal.

It's definately a delicate balance to struck, because if you make the character too distinct then the reveal feels like it's coming out of nowhere. I really like the actor's microexpression and the way the camera stays on his face sometimes, I think it's very subtle and the actor does a very good job with them.

Who realesed the video?

This section is a bit shorter, I mostly just want to highlight the two post I have seen pointing out some stuff about the video

This one by @firstmix

and This one by @raelle-writing

I wanted to add that maybe Tee and/or Top hide themselves in the office because they thought they could film the teacher giving Non money, and then caught something else instead.

I also think don't think (EDIT: I made a mistake in the og post) it's Jin that realesed the video.

Humans or Suprenatural

I am firmly on camp there is no supernatural, there is no cult. It's all staged.

I think the killers might be using drugs on the boys (see this post by @lukaherehelp for an excelled post on that)

And maybe some sort of induced hynosis/trance on Top, but it also just might be that the drugs and the fear are making him more inclined to help the masked killer, especially if he already thinks it's a ghost.

Also I don't currently have a specific post or remember the specific person sorry my memory is trash, but someone pointed out that sounds, the voices they hear and stuff, might also be used to fuck with people, if you are the person with that theory and see this tell me I will edit this. EDIT: @slayerkitty pointed out it was @shannankle who had this theory, thank you.

I think the dissapearing quick motionless apparitions might be some sort of projection. Specifically something tech related. I am thinking about Tan weirdly awakard talk with White about how he totally doesn't know anything about technology (that was a lie if I ever heard one)

And finally last but certanly not least: What are the killers realtionship/attitude thowards White and What is White role in the story?

White is the wild card, he wasn't supposed to be there. We have at least two conflicting statement on whose idea him coming with them was. Tee initially says, we agreed you would be good if you came and then says actually you didn't want to come and I instited later.

I don't think he is one of the killers there are way too many shots of him alone that make no sense if he is in on it.

Phi seems to be occasionally protective over him. In the scene where they are seeing Tee and White make out he is laughing with everyone but then after Tee says enough my little one will be sad (something of that effect) he turns to see White being embarred and puts a stop to it. He also always seem to want to keep White at the house where he could be safer.

Then of course there is the little awkward moment with the hands when Phi is telling him what to do for the shoot. It was such a odd moment to include, that it makes me believe there is something behind it we are not seeing.

Tan instead seems to be gently stearing him in a specific direction, the direction where he asks questions and wants the truth. Someone left the page of newspaper about Tee's uncle before leaving Fluke and White alone in the house, probably hoping that White would find it. I don't want to used the world manipulation yet, but it does feel a little like he is using him.

White has to be one of the final standing boys. I am not sure if he is going to be the only one. If Jin didn't realsed the video then Jin might also make it. And of course it depends about the killers. Making the killers so symphatethic the audience root for them is always a gamble if you want to end your series with both of them dead.

Is White meant to have some parallels with Non? Tee obviously is trying to change himself and be better for White, although he struggles between care and selfinesh still. White might also come from a poor background, the boys might have been more nice to him because they felt guilty about what happened to Non. There is also that moment with the rash that I think will have a bigger meaning eventually.

And has @shannankle has pointed out in their post on colors. He and Phi have some color connections with the orange.

I think that is it. Obviously the last question is about the ending, but I don't really have any theories I am ready to share for that yet. As you can see I am sure of very little.

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Well this isn't concerning but like... is Wrecker going fishing? 🤣

Jennifer said rollercoaster of emotions. That suggests ups and downs. Are we gonna get wholesome stuff with the Batch and horrifying stuff with Echo and Rex? What's gonna happen???

@phis-writing I have another tweet for you!

[janmisali]

Cyrillic English (more detailed description)

a while ago I made a post showing off a system I came up with for writing English in Cyrillic, while still preserving the wacky features of English orthography we all know and love. I never actually bothered formally defining how it’s supposed to work though beyond just a few key details, so let’s do that now!

most letters are replaced one-to-one. while there is some consideration given to how words are pronounced, it’s important for spellings that don’t make sense in the Latin orthography to still not make sense.

(this chart ignores digraphs, which I’ll get to in a sec)

most of these mappings are the exact thing someone who knows how to read the Cyrillic alphabet would expect, but here’s some things worth pointing out:

the two transcriptions for c are used for “hard c” (/k/) and “soft “c” (/s/), with c /s/ transcribed as though it were pronounced [ts]

in the original post I transcribed “language” with дж for “soft g”, but since the pronunciation of g in English is far less predictable than c, having a separate thing for soft g feels too much like it’s fixing broken spellings, so I’m retconning that out of this system

e is written with the “soft sign” when it’s silent. much like silent e in English, the Cyrillic letter ь is something that used to be pronounced as a vowel but now indicates a change in pronunciation of other nearby letters

for those used to Russian spelling, yes, е is being used for normal e and not for “ye”. since e in English does cause “palatalization” on consonants before it (soft c and g), I think this is fine.

h is transcribed as though it were pronounced /x/, but see below for digraphs

the distinction between k and q is lost, with no special case given for <qu> (it’s just transcribed as though it were <ku>)

s is always с, even when it’s voiced

u is transcribed with ю when it’s pronounced like /juː/, as in кють “cute” (or reduced versions of this as in прессюрь “pressure”), and with у in all other contexts

w is given the letter ў (short u), a letter that doesn’t appear in Russian but really is just the most sensible way to write /w/ in Cyrillic

x is transcribed with the sequence кз (kz), regardless of pronunciation

y is written as й (short i) as a consonant, including when it appears as part of a digraph as in плай “play”, and as ы (yery) as a vowel

this stuff is pretty basic. the biggest change is with digraphs. languages written with Cyrillic don’t use digraphs nearly as often as languages written with the Latin alphabet, so those should be dealt with.

the digraphs ph, th, and ch were introduced into the Latin alphabet to transcribe the Greek letters phi, theta, and chi. when they are pronounced the way they are in Greek loanwords (regardless of actual etymology), these three digraphs are transcribed using the Cyrillic letters that directly descend from the Greek letters they are meant to represent. this includes the archaic letter ѳ (fita), the most direct analogue to English <th> in the Cyrillic script.

for normal ch (and the “soft” ch of relatively recent French loans, while we’re at it), the letter ч is the best fit, and similarly ш makes perfect sense for sh.

wh is transcribed as though it were always pronounced /hw/, including in words like “who” where it definitely is not /hw/.

gh is either transcribed like normal g (when pronounced as such) or as /x/. х is used when gh is silent (as in ѳроух “through”) or pronounced like /f/ (as in роух “rough”), transcribed according to the historical pronunciation of these words.

then finally, while <ya> is not really a digraph in English in any meaningful sense, using Cyrillic and not making use of the letter я just feels plain wrong, so it’s used for words like Янкее (Yankee).

these digraph rules depend partially on pronunciation, not entirely spelling, so like “lighthouse” is лихтхоусь with a тх rather than *лихѳоусь with a ѳ.

[vegaseatsass]

Tag Game: Last Line

Tagged ages ago by darling @fleet-off but I didn't have anything to share til today, this most tragically DFF-less of Saturdays.

Rules: Share the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). OR CHEAT AND SHARE THE LAST CHUNK OF WRITING IF YOU'RE ME!!

At some point it occurred to Non  - maybe the fifth time he vainly tried to nudge White towards the horror section of the comic book store - that he was pretty genre-savvy when it came to this stuff. He knew what he was: Phi Tai Hong. The most feared of ghosts. What he didn’t know was what it was about cohabitating with White’s soul in White’s body that kept the ravenous bloodthirst at bay. He’d never watched or read or heard of anything like this. At first he speculated that his death wasn’t unexpected enough to count, but even if it made him a complete idiot, he really had believed he was going to make it out of that shitty casino and go on to prove everyone wrong. He still sometimes expected to wake up from all this as if it was just one long bad dream. It seemed impossible that he could finally be that ready to fight for his life and it could just be snatched from him.

I avoid tag games largely because of the part where you tag people but I will be so brave and tag @returning-spring @ameliarating @veliseraptor @lugarn @turtlesocksv2 @thisautistic @morathicain @timetoboldlygo @i-sveikata @fandork @artificialities and anyone who wants to!

[thebroccolination]

Today, I saw a tweet by a Thai Krist fan named June in which she thanked interfans for supporting Krist in spite of the language barrier and all the misinformation that surrounds him. June has been fan of Krist for a long time, and she's even shared a bunch of firsthand accounts in English of her experiences with Krist from early in his career. (They're very cute.)

Dear all inter fans who love Krist, thanks for loving him although you might not be able to clearly understand what he said or fully convey your feelings to him due to the language barrier. Although with this big barrier, you are still with him, don't give up on him, don't believe in any fake rumors and be his strength. Thanks so much 💕💕 –@qu_upqn_np

A minor incident prompted her to tweet this out, but because of the language barrier, I didn't fully follow it. From what I understand (and please don't cite me as a source if you carry this information forward) a fan tweeted a customer complaint to Krist directly about a peeling graphic on a concert T-shirt she bought. Krist replied to her and asked her to write to the official merch account, presumably because neither he nor The General Public can help her with her problem and that kind of thing can make the quality of his merch look shoddy. According to a few Thai fans, some interfans used the auto-translate feature on his tweet, decided that the auto-translated English looked rude, and started attacking him for being rude to his fan. It got to the point where Thai fans and fan translators had to explain that he was, in fact, very polite to her. He used "khab" and "phi" to refer to her, but English doesn't use those parts of speech, so auto-translate omitted them.

This was before my fellow interfan friend messaged me to ask why she was seeing interfans say that Boun's fans were calling him a drunkard (???).

A couple of days ago, Boun happily took a selfie with an interfan after an event where he drank a bit, and now this is somehow something people want to crucify him for because fan benefits and selfie rules etc. etc. etc. (There's context to this but it's frankly such a non-issue I'm astonished we're even talking about it.) One person did call Boun a drunkard, but they're an anti account (I know, even Boun has antis, the world's surprises never cease). The only other references to drinking were interfans saying, "He was just drunk and happy (and that's why he was happy to take the selfie)."

The way nuanced information is often squished into bite-sized pieces is both wild and worrying.

And it must be maddening for Thai fans to share a space with people who click auto-translate on Thai tweets, draw completely off-the-mark conclusions from a rough approximation or completely false mistranslation of what was actually said, and then use that as justification to attack the actors they love in foreign languages. There's a rampant Attack First, Ask Questions Never culture online these days, and we've got to collectively agree to chill before throwing on-fire furniture at each other.

These are both obviously ridiculous incidents, but they both garnered a lot of conversation among Thai fans.

I figured I'd share them here because I think Tumblr sometimes gets secondhand information from Twitter, and I wanted to demonstrate how some of this stuff gets misinterpreted before it even leaves the platform. It's interesting to investigate how these things happen, and hopefully it helps prevent similar misunderstandings from happening in the future.

(Also, for what it's worth, I have a concert shirt made by Krist's fan club and it's very comfy and has survived numerous washes completely intact.)

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

HERE IT IS!! THE MOMENT YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR: WHEN WE BLEED, WE BLEED THE SAME: FLUFFish EDITION!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45306493/chapters/142106260

help my tumblr is being buggy, if this link looks weird, no it doesn’t

Y’all I’m kinda realising that we’re already 12+prologue chapters deep into this, LIKE THAT’S A LOT?? Especially considering that the bigger part of this fic still only lives in my brain, like I kid you not, we haven’t even scratched the surface of where I wanna get HELP

ANYWAY!!!

slight trigger warning for vague mentions of panic attacks!

chapter summery: A morning started with culture shock ends with companionship, as an olive branch reveals who Rex and Nevaeh can trust.

Rex looking at Vae this chapter even tho he is too dumb to notice:

Vae this chapter (these don’t really make sense but I’m vibing with them so deal):

tags below cut!! (if you want to be added to my tag list, dm or ask me <3)

@saturn-sends-hugs @phantom-of-the-501st @shahrezaad @ihaventpiickedausername @exxasperatedauthor

[bitacrytic]

Little Brothers

Trigger warning - really weird shit mentioned.

-

“Porsche!” Tankhun said, bursting into Porsche’s office that morning as Porsche sighed heavily.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it could have been an email, Phi,” Porsche said.

“Have you read Brown Legacy by 22xx?” Tankhun asked, slamming his phone down on Porsche’s desk.

“I have not,” Porsche replied, slowly struggling to type out what he was working on before Takhun arrived.

“It’s about our brothers,” Tankhun stated.

Tankhun had to be talking about the site and if he was, then it was romance. Seeing as Porsche had only one brother, it had to be Chay, but there was no way the story would feature Kinn. Most writers liked to explore Kinn’s infatuation with Porsche. Not Chay. Which meant that Tankihun was talking about-

“You mean Kim and Chay?” 

“Yes,” he said. “Why aren’t you more worried about this? They’re writing disgusting stories about your baby brother,” he said, emphasizing “baby”. “And Kim.”

“It’s fiction. Let them have their fun.”

“Have you seen the tags on the story?”

“It doesn’t matter. They can write whatever they want.”

“Non-con,” Tankhun said, reading from his phone as he began pacing. “Enemies-to-lovers.”

“Understandable.”

“About a sixteen-year-old boy?” Taknhun asked.

Porsche paused for a second, thinking about that. Generally, he tended to avoid stories that had his brother in them because he didn’t want that in his brain. Not when those stories were spank-bank material. But now that Tankhun was mentioning it, Porsche wasn't so sure he liked the idea of grown men writing about his brother in that way.

“Okay, maybe it’s a little weird that they’re writing that,” Porsche conceded.

“Only the stories? Aren’t you worried about what this means for your brother and Kim?”

“It’s fiction, Phi. They’re not going to read it and do everything they see there.”

“This, coming from the man who re-enacts his own sex stories.”

Porsche cringed again, praying for the millionth time that his brother was nothing like him.

“There’s outrageous stuff in here. Which might be fine, if I didn't think it would affect impressionable young minds like Chay’s.”

Porsche reached for the phone with a worried frown as Tankhun gave it to him. Quickly, he scanned the tags, looking for what was so wrong with them, and with each tag, Porsche’s eyes just kept getting wider and wider because…

Orgasm denial…

Bestiality…

Incest…

Skat…

“Oh my god!” Porsche threw the phone away.

“You see my problem?” Tankhun asked.

“They shouldn’t be writing that.”

Tankhun stopped moving as he faced Porsche. “I think we’re both worried about different things here.”

“We have to shut that site down right now.”

“No, we have to make sure that Kim stays the fuck away from Chay.”

“What?” Porsche asked, a little confused by Tankhun’s words. 

“Look, Kim’s soul is old and wretched and dead, but Chay is still an angel. We have to keep them away from each other and make sure that Kim never gets it into his head that Chay is a viable romantic option.”

“Oh,” Porsche said, staring into Tankhun’s face and wondering how to explain to Tankhun that that ship had sailed.

Months ago. Porsche had known about Kim and Chay for a while and the fact that Tankhun thought the site would be to blame for that would have been funny if Porsche wasn’t plotting the destruction of the MansionOfMen website, right at that very second.

***

Read Another

[animalinvestigator]

You don’t have to answer this question as it could spoil your plan for their story but I was wondering if you had an idea of about how long Skipper and Phi would actually live for. Like do you think they live to adulthood or are they kids forever?

hellowww anoynmousss!! first : thank you very much for the ask. i think this is the first time ive had some one anon ask me about this particualr story..or at least thats the case for the , rewrite, of this story, for sure...im touched..thinking about printing it out and framing it, im a proud parent. second: sorry for my belated reply i had a very busy day yesterday when you sent it and i work a 9 to 5 right now. but i was looking forward to coming home and answering it all day. THIRD: the actual reply to your question thank you.

the way i write stories im kind of just like..mm how do i explain it. It is against my value system to create too much "epilogue" type material...the way i work is, when the story is done, it's done , and if i wanted to write about the character's lives in the future, it would be part of the main body of the story...since skipper and phi's story more or less resolves itself over the course of a few months at most, i don't really have a concrete idea of their future , nor any intent to develop one... and it's also just like, with these two in particular, it feels opposed to the feeling i'm writing from to have a solid answer to how and if they grow up..since i guess the main emotional core is something like "it's impossible to know how much time we have left before the world is too inhospitable for us and anything that could have remembered us" ...

all those words just to say: it's not something i have any interest in solidifying. but, both characters make it through the narrative in one piece and end up back in a place of relative equilibrium ,and it /is/ in my vision that they have many more carefree days together after that, for sure :3 if it makes you happy to imagine them as grown ups you should...i dont persoanlly feel compelled to think much about it butfrom where i finish making up stuff thats where i hand it over to anyone who might be listening to make up anything else they want to tack onto it, if they feel inclined. As a wise man once said. Everything you say will become the truth. Winks

aynway kind of a lame answer but, i hope it was insightful. thank you for being interested in my silly stories it means the world. sending much love anyonymous

usually i would doodle al itle related picture im struggling to draw on model so take some never before seen doodles of them riding a bike as recompense.

[kayzero]

For the ideas wanted post, I always find people's different interpretations of how Quark functions after different endings in VLR so so interesting, since they're a character i've analyzed so so much. so a Quark-centric writing of them after one of the endings in which they're alive and get out?

This takes place during/after Luna END.

Weeks and months and years ago, when Quark was little, littler than he is now, he would sometimes wake up without Grandpa. He would panic, he would cry, he would be convinced that this was it, Grandpa finally got tired of having a little kid around, he’s gone and never coming back. And always, without fail, Grandpa would come back, see his sorry state, and calm him down, explaining that he just had to get an early start on work, and Quark looked too comfortable to disturb.

He grew out of that phase when he started helping Grandpa out with scavenging in earnest. He started to understand why it was so important that he get up early, get to the good stuff before anyone else. The memories fell to the back of his mind, like baby teeth from his mouth.

When Quark wakes up after being sedated in Rhizome-9, he knows for a fact that Grandpa is dead.

The surety comes from the same place that screams for freedom, howls at being chained up in this flesh prison where he could die at any moment. The visions he’d been having in the first round of the AB Game with Dio and Grandpa crop back up. He could be sliced with a scalpel, buried under trash, killed by a cultist — and even if he could avoid all the ugly, violent deaths, he couldn’t avoid death by sickness or old age.

But the sedative still floating around in his system combined with the shock of his Grandpa’s death make him numb, and let him see the tantrum he threw objectively — and it was a tantrum, albeit one over his very life instead of some toy he wanted — but more than that, it reminded him of something he had seen on the streets with Grandpa.

The people who got infected with Radical-6. The Cultists and the Damned. They ranted about the state of the world being divine judgement, that humanity would shrivel up and die out eventually, that there was no point in struggling because they would do it to themselves.

The Cultists grew in fervor, shifted to talking about the world that would rise from the rubble that the world was covered in. The Damned all ended up dead by their own hands.

Quark had almost joined them.

Might still. Grandpa’s dead, what’s the point?

Quark put his hands on the ground and pushed himself so that he was sitting against the wall instead of laying on the hard metal floor.

“Oh good, you’re awake. I didn’t wanna have to struggle to get you into this suit.”

He tilts his head up and sees Miss Phi, dressed in a spacesuit but missing the helmet. Looks at her with dead eyes that were still too alive because his body is still moving while his soul is screaming that Grandpa is dead—

He tries to tune out the howling. “Why do you want me to get in the suit, Miss Phi?”

“There’s some sort of pressure difference between this room and the outside world, and the suit’s what we need to survive it.”

“But what about the AB Game?”

The flinty, cool look Miss Phi usually wears gives way to something close to what the people Grandpa used to talk to wear when they look at him. Kinda sad, kinda frustrated.

“You’ve been asleep for a while. The AB Game’s over. We won.”

He doesn’t feel like a winner. He doesn’t say that out loud.

Instead he goes, “So you want to leave?”

“Yeah, and I have to bring you with me because you’re too young to be on your—“ She stops herself with wide eyes and a hand that stops halfway up to cover her mouth, because—

Because Miss Phi knows. She knows Grandpa is dead, she thinks that Quark doesn’t know, she doesn’t want to tell him (right now? ever?). The howling starts snarling at her now, his mind starts whirling with mean things and bad words to say to her, things he said when the adults wouldn’t let him—

Well. He doesn’t feel like being mean, but he doesn’t feel like being nice either. He settles for polite and factual.

“You know there’s nothing out there, right?”

“What? What do you mean by that?”

He doesn’t have a bracelet on, and Grandpa’s already dead, so nothing stops him from saying, “We’re on the moon.”

“…What?”

“We’re in a research base on the moon. Grandpa told me before we got on the ship. But the pilot knocked us out, so it was probably a one-way trip.”

As he talks, Miss Phi backs up until her back hits the wall, slowly sliding down until she’s sitting on the floor like he is. She doesn’t move, except to wrap her arms around her shins and bury her face into the collar of the space suit.

They stay like that for a while.

[bella-rose29]

Darling

Nikolai Lantsov x f!reader

Woke up in a lot of pain because my body systems hate me, so I wrote this (I'm doing better now)

Word count: 1.4k (wtf i didn't mean to write this much lol)

Warnings: periods, anything period related, swearing, this is also based purely on my own experiences (although not the bit where he's hugging her 🥲), not proof read/edited

Tag list: @bubybubsters, @el-de-phi, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @iambored24601, @itsyoboo-jassy, @karensirkobabes, @kentucky-criedfricken, @little8sun, @mvidaaaa, @naushtheaspiringauthor, @notoakay, @simbaaas-stuff, @pietromaximoffsbabe (i'm so sorry lovely i completely forgot to add you earlier)

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking, fuck, fuck!"

"You alright, darling?"

"Yep, all good, Nik!"

Y/n was not at all good. She'd woken up next to an empty space that morning, smiling and shaking her head when she realised where her husband was, sat at his desk and already working, and then had felt an excruciating burst of pain in her abdomen. She heard Nikolai stand up, his chair thumping against the carpeted floor as he came over to the bed.

"Yeah, you're very clearly not alright, darling," he said as he took in her pained expression. "What's going on? Do you need me to get the healer?"

"Monthly cycle, and yes please," she gasped out.

"Okay. Are you able to move?" Y/n shook her head, blinking back the tears that were forming in her eyes. "Alright darling. I'll be back in a few minutes, okay? Just gonna get the healer." He planted a kiss on her forehead, then practically sprinted out of the room. Y/n would have laughed if she thought it wouldn't hurt.

Nikolai really was only gone a few minutes, returning on his own but laden with heat packs. Y/n felt tears form for a different reason as he knelt down next to the bed to activate the heat packs, placing them on her lower stomach, adjusting them so that they all fit. The healer appeared with an assistant then, bag in hand as she sent Y/n an apologetic look.

"How are you doing, Your Majesty?"

"Not great," she whispered, eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to force the pain away. It was times like these that Y/n wished she were Grisha; if she were a Healer or a Tidemaker then maybe she could heal the pain away or force her body to comply through the water in her brain. The healer and Nikolai were talking, although Y/n couldn't make out what was being said, but then a minute or so later her husband was out the room and the healer was placing her hands over Y/n's abdomen, attempting to ease the Queen's pain. The assistant had brought a change of underclothes, helping Y/n to swap them.

"The King has just gone to arrange some things so that your day is easier for you, Your Majesty, he'll be back in a bit. I'll stay here for as long as you need, and in a moment I'll ask you to take the tonic on your bedside table, alright?" Her voice was calm and soothing, and Y/n felt ready to drift off.

"What's the tonic for?"

"It should alleviate some of the pain. We've only recently developed it, but it's had an incredibly high success rate."

"Oh, okay." She was feeling better now, the work the healer was doing helping hugely, and the heat packs distracted from what pain was left over.

"Are you able to sit, Your Majesty?"

"I think so, hang on." Wincing at the stab of pain when she moved, Y/n gritted her teeth, and with the help of the healer was able to sit up in bed. Nikolai returned then, now carrying a box of some description, and his face lit up at the sight of his wife looking better.

"I've got chocolate," he said, lifting the box. "And I managed to convince the head cook to surrender a couple of those breakfast pastries you love so much. Don't feel you need to eat anything now, darling, just let me know and I'll get it for you." She laughed lightly, flinching when it made the pain increase, and took the hand he offered when he sat down next to her. He managed to manoeuvre them so that he was sat behind her, a leg on either side. He pressed kisses to her hair every now and then, arms stroking up and down her arms, sometimes drifting down to gently stroke her stomach.

"Do you think you're able to take the tonic now, Your Majesty?"

"Yeah, I think so."

It tasted bitter going down, and nothing seemed to happen, but the healer reassured her that it would kick in within about 20 minutes.

"I just need to go and sort a few things out, Your Majesty, but I'll come back every so often to check up on how you're doing and bring you more tonics, alright?"

"Thank you," Nikolai said, grateful smile appearing on his face. The healer and her assistant bowed, exiting the room. The couple sat in silence for a while, Y/n basking in the warmth of the packs and her husband's body behind her, and the soft touches of his hands on her arms. Her heart ached with how gentle and loving he was being, and the tears came back. Hearing her quiet sniffles, Nikolai panicked, thinking it had gotten worse.

"What's wrong, darling? Does it still hurt?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "Well, yes, but not as much. It's not that though. I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed by you, Nik."

Although she couldn't see it, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Me? Why?"

"I've never been looked after like this before. It's nice. And I guess because we were arranged I thought you wouldn't care that much, but you do, and my body is all out of whack right now which isn't helping but it's making me want to cry because I love you."

Nikolai was silent for a while, never stopping stroking her arms, but Y/n started to worry. She was just about to speak up when he finally spoke.

"I love you too, Y/n."

Then she really did start crying, tears slipping down her face and wetting the bedsheets. Nikolai turned her face towards his, softly wiping away what he could and leaning in to press his lips to hers. It was brief, but more full of love than any other they'd shared, and Y/n couldn't believe how lucky she'd been in getting him as her husband.

"Wait," she said, pulling away with a frown. "What about your meetings?"

"Cancelled them," Nikolai shrugged. "You're more important to me, darling."

"Won't Zoya be mad? That you're leaving things to her?"

"She was actually weirdly understanding for Zoya. I'm fully convinced I'm going to be sent some very strongly worded letters involving death threats, though. Or made to plant face first into the lake by a strong wind."

Y/n giggled, picturing the scenario, and made a mental note to ask Zoya to do just that. Preferably when Nikolai was in just his slacks, suspenders and undershirt, and not for any particular reason.

"You'll be fine, Kolya."

~~~

Later that day, Y/n was feeling much better, having taken another dose of the tonic, and was sat outside by the lake with Zoya. Nikolai had rescued a frog (although the frog looked rather happy where it was) and was placing it on the bank. All of a sudden, the wind picked up, and Nikolai was pushed in the water, arms windmilling as he fell. It was a warm day, so he'd taken off his jacket, and while Y/n did feel a little bad for asking Zoya to push him in, all regrets were washed away when he emerged from the lake, completely soaked with water from head to toe.

He stalked over, trying not to smile at how loudly his wife was laughing, and pointed an accusatory finger at the Grisha General.

"I know that was you, Zoya. How could you, to your King, of all people!"

"I was just doing what my Queen commanded, Your Majesty," she mock bowed from where she sat, smirk on her face as she watched Nikolai wipe the water from his eyes. Y/n was still cackling next to her, and Zoya was glad to see her friend doing better than this morning.

"Darling Y/n?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like a hug?" Her eyes widened, almost comically so, as Nikolai leaned in, arms open wide. She shrieked with joy as he got closer, pushing him away (not really, he was far too strong).

"Nik!" she laughed, all thoughts of pain completely forgotten.

He did eventually get his hug, but only when he was clean and dry (Y/n had found bits of grass and water plants in his hair), and not threatening to cover Y/n in lake water.

"Thank you, Nik, for everything today."

"Of course, darling. I love you."

"Love you too," she hummed, drifting off in her husband's arms.