#revolves around the idea that none of these bitches

[multitude-of-eels]

Thinking about the Harrow the Ninth epilogue where we learn captain Deuteros has a crush on Coronabeth/Crown, and how in Nona we learn from Nona herself (it's implied because even though she says as much, the sentence is cut off) that Crown also has a crush on the captain in return, and how several people in Nona the Ninth talk about how Crown loves people who don't want to pay attention to her and how when Crown offered to be Judith's cavalier, she turned her down. And anyways I'm pretty abnormal about the whole situation.

[celiastjamesoscar]

Wish I Knew You

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader, established relationship

Summary: Unofficial meant many things to people, but to college students it meant one thing: party. But unofficial takes a turn when you get into a fight, and Sam has to walk you home.

Warnings: swearing, destruction of property, breaking and entering, light mention of drugs, drinking

AN: based off of an idea I ‘stole’ from @p0rkbun, I love ya!

My Masterlist

Word Count: 3.5K

“I know it’s unofficial, but please, you guys, be safe. Okay?” Sam pleaded as she looked at the group of kids before her. Technically, they weren’t kids, but in her eyes, most of them would still be those kids she used to babysit. Well, all of them but you.

You met Sam through Anika after she moved to New York, and you were instantly in love even though she wouldn’t even spare you a glance most of the time. Those big, brown eyes that held years of pain and agony brought you so much comfort whenever she would look at you. Her lips never smiled, so you made it your life mission to make her smile, even if it was just for a mere moment. And when you did make her smile after you went on a drunken tangent about how Isaac Newton deserved to die a virgin and how Dr. Pepper is the best soda, she knew that she was in too deep.

Dammit to hell with getting accepted into the best universities the country had to offer and all those scholarships you had received that paid for your schooling at Blackmore University. None of those things compared to the feeling you got in your chest when you saw that beautiful smile for the first time. It seemed like your entire world had stopped rotating and began to revolve around the single smile that didn’t last for more than three seconds, but it meant more to you than anything else.

After the night, the two of you grew closer, and after enough dinners together, you two started dating. It took you forever to break down all of Sam’s walls, but when you did, it was the most rewarding thing you had ever done. On late nights after she had worked a double, the only thing Sam wanted to do was come home and sleep. But when she pushed open her apartment door and saw you standing awkwardly in the hallway with a goofy grin on your lips and a bottle of wine, all the stress seemed to leave her body, being replaced with the need to be hold you.

You found it impossible to believe that people hated Sam: she was perfect in your eyes. Her soft, caring nature, whenever it was just the two of you, was something you couldn’t find anywhere else. Yes, Sam can be a bitch sometimes, but behind closed doors, she is putty in your hands. How she would sit next to you on the couch, softly tracing patterns on your thigh with her fingers, would make your chest flutter. When you two were in a group, she would always sit next to you- much to Tara’s disapproval, who is someone who doesn’t like sharing her sister- while placing a protective hand on your thigh.

The thoughts that ran around Sam’s mind were that she wished she knew you when she was young; maybe her life would be completely different. Perhaps she wouldn’t have started using drugs or ran away from home, but that’s all it was: what-ifs that might or might not have changed her life. Even though she wished for things to have been different, that she wished she would have met you at a different time, she was still glad that she had you in her life, and she refused to let you go any time soon.

So now, as you sit next to her sister getting ready to get plastered at frat parties for Halloween, Sam couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of anxiety crawling through her body.

“Yes, Sam, we promise to be safe. We will call you if you need anything,” Tara stated as she stood up from the couch, “Can we go now?”

With a small sigh, Sam closed her eyes and nodded her head. She just knew that allowing you guys to go out tonight would come back to bite her in the ass. “Please don’t drink too much,” Sam pleaded as she followed the group to the door, looking directly at you while she spoke, “I’m talking to you.”

You scoffed at your girlfriend’s accusation, “How dare you insinuate that I, of all people, would drink the most!”

“Because you will,” Mindy mumbled as she looked between you and Sam, unamused, “You always get out of hand when you drink.”

“No, I do not!” You shot back, but you knew arguing would get you nowhere.

Speaking up for the first time, Chad said, “Don’t worry, Sam. I will make sure that Y/N and Tara don’t drink too much; you have my word,” as he wrapped a loving arm around your shoulder.

With a small sigh, Sam nodded in defeat, “Alright, just be safe tonight, okay? No splitting up.” Before Sam could finish her sentence, Tara had shot up from the couch and left for the door. “Come on, you old people, the party’s not going to wait for us,” she exclaimed while opening the door and leaning against the door frame, tapping her foot with urgency.

The twins were quickly behind Tara, and when you went to follow, Sam grabbed your hand, “Hey, wait a minute.” When Sam spoke, the three noticed the way Sam’s dark eyes were pleading with you, so they decided to step out into the hallway to give the two of you some privacy.

“What’s up?” You asked with the softest smile that always made Sam’s knees weak. “Please, Y/N, be safe tonight. If you need anything, call me, okay?” The Latina asked as she gently placed her hands on your triceps, lovingly running her hands up and down.

“You know I will be, and I promise to call you if anything happens,” you replied while leaning forward, placing a soft kiss on top of Sam’s head, “Just think, this is a night to yourself. When was the last time you had that?”

Sam mumbled something underneath a breath that you missed. “I’m sorry, what was that?” You teased with a smile, watching as Sam rolled her eyes. “I said that I only enjoy my nights to myself when you are around,” the older girl admitted through clenched teeth.

“Damn, Sam. You can at least pretend to like me,” you joked with a small laugh.

“You know that I hate to admit these things, but you still make me do it.”

“You’re right! I love hearing my girlfriend give me constant affirmations about how much she loves me; it's the best!” You happily stated with a smile, and Sam laughed at your response.

“Whatever, just be safe tonight,” she said as her eyes looked you up and down, clearing having a distaste for your costume, “whatever the fuck you are.”

Naturally, you scoffed at her words, “I will have you know that I am one of the best historians out there.”

“Yeah, I doubt that,” Sam replied with a smile. It might not seem like much, but these small banters between the two of you were what she loved the most. She could be herself around you, and you would never judge her for it.

In the mood to be a smartass, you straightened your posture and pulled on your coat. You cleared your throat and began doing an impression of a Bolton accent, “It’s hard to believe I’m walking through the ruins of the first-ever city, because I’m not. That’s in Iraq, which is miles away, and fucking dangerous.”

Sam stared at you blankly for several seconds before she shook her head, “You’re a fucking idiot, and I cannot believe you are going as that lady.”

“Excuse me, ‘that lady’ is Philomena Cunk, who is the best damn historian on this planet,” you defended while making your way to the front door, Sam following behind you, “And my costume is certainly the best.”

Sam hummed as she opened the front door, “Yeah because it's so hard to beat,” she quickly looked at the three standing out in the hallway, “a half-assed pirate, a scarecrow, and Jack Skellington.”

“Hey now, I’m a cowboy, not a scarecrow,” Chad replied with a bit of hurt. “She doesn’t care what you are. Now come on, we have a party to go to,” Mindy sat as she threw an arm around Tara the pirate and started walking down the hallway with Chad several paces behind them.

Before you followed them, you quickly kissed Sam’s lips. “I love you,” you mumbled against them, and Sam kissed your words.

“I love you too,” she replied while pulling away. You blew her kiss as you started to catch up with the group, and Sam felt her heart flutter at the small gesture. Words could not even begin to express the love she had in her heart for you, but she hoped that one day she might be able to tell you. She wanted to tell you how her entire being ached for your touch whenever you were away, and she hated watching you leave. But she simply settled for watching you leave with her younger sister, off to have the fun that was promised when you start college.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whenever someone tells you that college is supposed to be the time of your life, they are fucking wrong. Hours and hours of studying material that you must teach yourself because your professors are too incompetent to teach it while you still pay them thousands of dollars is not fun. There is nothing ideal about college, and you hated every single second of it, but the part you loved the most was your friends.

Of course, you had friends in high school, but none meant this much to you. You would readily lay down your life for Tara, just as you would the twins. So, that’s why for the first time since the semester started, you finally felt your shoulders loosen and stress leave your body, just for some dipshit in a mask to ruin it.

It all happened quickly, according to Chad. One minute, you were taking shots with Tara, then the next, you were on top of a random guy, beating him to a pulp. It took Chad and Mindy to pry you off the guy, yet you still fought against them, trying your hardest to get your hands on that fucker.

“I’m good, I’m good,” you slurred after Chad carried you out of the frat house, but as soon as he placed you on the floor, you tried to run back into the house. “Hey! Stop it!” He shouted, quickly grabbing you before you could make it up the front porch steps, “Sit down and breathe.” Your head was spinning, and you could barely stand, but you had to get your hands on that fucker.

Grumbling under your breath, you listened to the man and sat down on the grass as Tara came to sit by you. “What happened?” She asked while picking up your dominant hand, lightly tracing her fingers over your bloodied knuckles.

You didn’t want to worry Tara that the piece of shit man was saying false accusations about Sam; you knew it would ruin her night. So, you decided to lie. “He said that the only correct way to eat cereal is to pour the milk first, then the cereal.”

A small laugh came from Tara’s lips as she let go of your hand and pulled out her phone. “You know, I don’t know what’s worse: how crazy you defend cereal or that you nearly killed a man dressed up as Philomena Cunk.”

You chuckled beside her and sat in silence as you watched her call her sister, asking the older Carpenter to come pick you up. You felt bad for not being the one to call Sam, but you knew that if you called her, she would ask what happened, and you couldn’t lie to that sweet and kind woman. Those soft, dark eyes that smiled for her would break if you ever were to lie to her, and you couldn’t put her through that.

So, you sat in silence with the younger Carpenter as Chad and Mindy went back inside the frat house. Once they were out of earshot, Tara spoke up. “I know you lied to me.”

“About what?” You questioned, but you knew what she was talking about. “Tell me why you beat the shit out of that guy,” Tara pressed.

You shook your head and sucked in a deep breath, debating on if you should tell her or not. With a sigh, you down while speaking, “He was saying some shit about Sam, and I lost my cool. I’m sorry that I ruined your night.”

Several beats of silence passed before Tara grabbed your hand and interlaced her fingers with yours. “You know, When you and Sam first started dating, I was skeptical. You’re one of my closest friends, and Sam is my sister. But oh my god, after seeing how she looks at you, I knew that the two of you were meant to be. I’ve never seen Sam look at anyone the way she does with you and the way she smiles around you, Y/N. It's unbelievable; I’ve never seen her smile that much. What I mean to say is that Sam has a hard time with words, but that woman loves you so much. So thank you for defending her name because I know she would do the same thing for you,” Tara admitted with a soft smile, and before you could respond, the both of you saw a tall figure approaching you.

“What the hell happened?” Sam asked with worry laced in her voice as soon as she got close enough to see your hand. She crouched beside you and took your hand out of Tara’s as she lightly traced her fingers over your knuckles, more worried about you than whoever you beat the shit out of.

“Your sweet, little Y/N who would never do any harm went apeshit on someone. It took both twins to pull her off of the poor guy,” Tara said as she stood from the ground and began walking into the house.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Sam questioned while eyeing her sister, who didn’t even look behind her as she shouted, “Back to the party!”

You laughed as you watched the younger Carpenter disappear into the house, “she’s a little shit, isn’t she?” You joked as you looked back at Sam, who glared at you, “What?”

You knew it was terrible, but you couldn’t help but find Sam extremely attractive whenever she was angry; it was probably why you liked to piss her off so much.

The older girl huffed as she stood up, pulling you up with her as well. “Don’t ‘what’ me; you know exactly what I’m mad about,” she said as she grabbed one of your arms and threw it over your shoulder. You just shrugged, not wanting to argue with Sam over the reason for your fight.

“I’m not that drunk, Sam. I can walk by myself,” you declared, but once Sam let go of your arm so you could prove your point, gravity seemed to have a vendetta against you, causing you to begin swaying from side to side.

“Mhm, yeah. Come on,” Sam sighed as she grabbed your arm and threw it over her shoulder again.

Naturally, the entire walk back to the apartment, you complained about Sam not needing to carry you, but you would never admit that you enjoyed seeing this softer side of her.

“So,” Sam asked when you two got away from the frat house, “What happened?”

You shrugged as you continued walking, “The guy was saying false information about how to eat cereal properly. That’s all.”

Now, Sam wasn’t an idiot, and she wasn’t born yesterday. She knew when you were lying, and she knew that you were. In your relationship, Sam always knew that you would be truthful, and her heart began to break at the thought of things changing between the two of you. She knew it was stupid, but she couldn’t help the anxiety at the idea of you no longer being honest with her.

As if you could sense her doubt, you spoke, “Sam, you know that I love you, right?” The Carpenter nodded her head, silently ushering you to continue. “Well, then you know that I would do anything to protect you, anything at all,” you proclaimed as you leaned over and placed a loving kiss on her forehead.

Several beats of silence passed as Sam was thinking about what you said. She knew that whatever happened between you and the dickhead was about the online controversies surrounding her, even though you didn’t say anything about it; she just knew.

A part of Sam felt guilty that you had the feeling of constantly needing to defend her name, which got you in a lot of trouble. But she also loved the idea of having someone who loved and cared for her enough to start fights over her, no matter how petty they were.

So, instead of asking you any more questions, Sam simply said, “I love you too,” and pulled you closer to her.

Falling into a comfortable silence, you walked for several minutes before you stopped dead in your tracks. “What the actual fuck is that?” You asked with a slight hint of venom in your voice.

You had stopped just outside a Barnes & Noble, glaring into the store’s display case. In that case, there was a small cardboard cutout of Gale Weathers, and behind her were copies of her notorious book that worsened Sam’s public image.

“You fucking bitch,” you hissed as you unwrapped Sam’s arm from you and walked up the glass window, pushing on it but getting nowhere. “Y/N, come on. It’s closed, and you’re drunk,” Sam said as she gently grabbed your hand, but you shook it off.

Without saying a word, you walked to the side of the store to pick up a brick. Before Sam could stop you, you threw the brick through the window, causing it to shatter into tiny pieces.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Sam whisper-shouted as she tried to stop you from climbing into the store, but you were surprisingly strong in your intoxicated state. Once you entered the display area, you grabbed a signed copy of Gale’s book and ripped out several of the pages. You then began doing that to the rest of the books you could see, and once you were done, you moved to the cutout.

“You fucking bitch,” you hissed as you pushed the cutout, causing it to fall, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Fucking fuckass loser.”

Now, she knew it was terrible to be imagining this, but Sam couldn’t find it within herself to stop you from destroying Gale’s books. Truth be told, she wanted to join you, but she felt like you deserved to have this moment to yourself.

“I’ll fuck you up, little bitch,” you stated as you picked up the cutout and put it underneath your arm. “What are you doing?” Sam asked with a small laugh as she watched you carry the cardboard Gale Weathers from the store.

“Taking her home,” you slurred once you stepped onto the street, then you began walking toward Sam’s apartment. “Wrong way, dumbass,” Sam stated once you got halfway down the sidewalk.

Without saying a word, you turned on your heels and walked back to Sam. “Thank you,” you replied while the two of you began walking back in the correct direction, still holding Gale.

“Are you taking her home to kill her?” The Latina asked while looking down at the cutout, struggling to keep a straight face with this unusual situation.

“What kind of fucking animal do you take me for? No, I'm not going to kill her!” You exclaimed, “But I am kidding her.”

The sound of Sam’s laughter caused an eruption of butterflies to flutter throughout your chest. Even though you were drunk and probably wouldn’t remember most of this night, hell, there was a good chance you wouldn’t even remember ‘kidnapping’ Gale Weathers, but you knew you would never forget the sound of your woman’s laughter.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s get you home so you can torture Gale,” Sam joked as she wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into her side.

She didn’t care that you would be on the news tomorrow morning for the destruction of property; she was just glad you were happy while doing it. It wasn’t every day that Sam got to witness you lose your shit, especially on an inanimate object, but she loved seeing this side of you. She wouldn’t change your relationship for anything, no matter what it was. Sam loved you with her body and soul, and she would never give that up.

The only thing she wished was different was that she knew you when she was young. She would stay up most nights wondering how different her life would have been if she had met you when she was 18, a fresh runaway from home. Before she got into all the hard drugs, she still struggled despite being three years sober. But as she listened to you threaten fake Gale while stating how much you loved the woman you were dating, Sam couldn’t be happier with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff @maskthedwarf @canvascoloredin

[anamericangirl]

The Israel vs Palestine conflict is such a long-spanning and insanely complicated thing that there's literally college courses that revolve entirely around the subject. There's people who have been studying it for 70 years who still barely understand it. There's historians with PhDs trying to piece together anything they can that could help them figure out a means to potentially instill a ceasefire or even peace altogether who have failed time and time again for decades if not literally centuries.

And yet people with 7 years of Twitter experience think they know enough about the conflict to pick a side and vouch for the destruction of the opposite side.

The amount of times I want to say "Shut the fuck up you fucking stupid idiot, you know literally nothing about this conflict, you have no idea what's actually happening, I bet if I asked your opinion on the Two State Solution you wouldn't even have a fucking clue what that means" on a daily basis reading these actual braindead moronic 16yo Twitter users' dipshit opinions who keep citing celebrity blue-checkmark Twitter posts as evidence to vouch for the eradication of a middle eastern country they don't even know a fucking thing about is STAGGERING.

I'm in my mid-30s and I stay out of politics on all sides because I am not qualified in any way to form opinions on matters so serious that they may or may not result in people being killed, and it fucking pisses me off that people half my fucking age are telling me that I should support Palestine or Ukraine or vouch for the genocide of Israel or join ANTIFA or BLM or put #FreeTaiwan in my fucking twitter bio.

You actual braindead stupid fucking morons have absolutely no clue what any of these conflicts actually mean, none of them have anything to do with you, go back to bitching about girls in video games being too sexy and shut the fuck up about actual real conflicts because you're a fucking moron if you think you know anything about what you claim you're in support of.

I swear to God if I see one more Twitch player playing Fortnite ranting about the Israel Palestine conflict and telling people that donations during their stream go to Palestine, Ukraine, Taiwan and LGBT activism centers, I'm gonna go feral. It is so unbelievably belittling to people who have spent their entire life researching and educating themselves on these conflicts to be able to build an understanding, that a dipshit who collects loli bestiality porn and plays Metroid Prime on Twitch thinks he's on the same level as those researchers.

PREACH! It's so fucking annoying how everyone suddenly thinks they're experts on this conflict when before October 7, 2023 none of them even knew it was happening and they're just cringey ass brain dead parrots saying what they're supposed to say without doing their due diligence to at least get somewhat informed on the matter before boycotting Starbucks, using hashtags and swapping the Ukraine flag for the Palestine flag and thinking they're doing something.

What really gets to me is when influencers I follow, like apolitical ones who are grown ass adults, jump on the bandwagon and are actually orchestrating fundraisers for Palestine and it makes me so fucking mad because they absolutely have no excuse for that. I just want to scream at them "hey! you know literally every cent you raise is going straight to Hamas and no Palestinian will ever get a single penny!! It's all going to buy weapons to kill Israeli civilians. YOU ARE LITERALLY FUNDING GENOCIDE AND TERRORISM YOU ABSOLUTE BUFFOON!!!" I don't have a shred of respect for people who talk about all the terrible things happening in Gaza but don't have a single word to say about the atrocities Hamas commits daily in Israel. Not one of them has condemned or even mentioned the attack on October 7th. Fuck every single one of them.

[s-creations]

PDA - RadioStatic One-Shot Collection

Collection of 10 one-shots (5 for Alastor, 5 for Vox) that revolve around some actions that related to PDA. As stated from some website article that I read and don't remember which one it is.

This was just an idea that came to me and I feel that there needs to be more RadioStatic fluff for this fandom. So I'm here to provide.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Alastor/Vox (RadioStatic) Warnings/Additional Tags: Rosie mentioned, Mimsy mentioned, unnamed sinner, slight depictions of violence, a lot of fluff, so much fluff, call the dentist because this is going to cause some cavities, warning on a use of a slur, small moments of rivalry between Alastor and Valentino, additional tags to come if needed.

Alastor

1) Sitting in Their Lap

Even if his mate was the owner of the largest tech company. Even if he had promised to carry around the infernal contraption with him to ease Vox’s mind. Even if said contraption was built specifically with him in mind. Even with all of these valid reasons, Alastor still hated cell phones. More so when that annoying vibration interrupted his evening. 

Letting out a heavy sigh, Alastor placed his book aside to better pick the wretched thing up off the side table. There was a sting of worry when he saw ‘Velvette - Social Media Bitch!’ (which she had put in) on the screen. Pressing his pointer finger against the answer button, he raised it to his ear. 

“Hello, Velvette. How can I help you this fine evening?”

“You need to get Vox, now.”

Alastor’s ears twitched, but his face remained impassive. “I see. How bad is it?”

“He’s been working for four days straight! He won’t eat, he won’t answer or even open the door.”

At that point, Alastor heard Valentino’s voice calling out in rather heavy desperation “Open the fucking door!” followed by furious banging. 

“Vox locked you out in every way, it would seem.” Alastor replied casually, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Which is why I’m calling you.”

“Fret not my dear, I’ll be over soon. Tell Valentino to stop trying to break the door down before he actually breaks something. More of himself than the door.”

Alastor ended the call before the other could answer back. Allowing himself to let his frustration show, the air filled with heavy static. He knew Vox had been at work for a few days. But had stupidly assumed the younger would actually eat and sleep without the need of Alastor to remind him. 

Apparently not.

“You workaholic idiot.” Alastor hissed out, allowing the shadows to wrap around him. Easily pulling him into the dark void to traverse across Hell.

The workers and other residents of VeesTower were used to having Alastor appear out of nowhere on occasion. So none were taken aback as the Radio Demon appeared suddenly. All situated around the large door that led to Vox’s office. Clearly more worried about the Media Overlord’s well-being than Alastor’s arrival. 

“Fucking finally!” Velvette walked over, anger being used to hide her concern. “Take him to that stupid hotel or some restaurant or something, I don’t care. Just get him out of there!”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Alastor said while patting Velvette’s head. Easily avoiding the bite attempt to said hand. “I’ll handle this easily. You all can scooch back to your normal routine of whatever you find so important.”

He didn’t wait for them to move before sinking into the shadows once more. Appearing in the Media Overlord’s office the next second. 

The technological fortress was still a nightmare for Alastor. Even if he and Vox were partners, that didn’t mean he enjoyed all the lights and noise and coldness this place seemed to bring. The way eyes had to be glued to a screen to get any kind of entertainment or information just rubbed him the wrong way. Alastor was the tilted Radio Demon for a reason after all. Even with his distaste for this all, he also knew it was the reason they worked so well together. 

Radio and Television, the Powerhouse of Entertainment. 

Trademark Vox.

That sought after power, however, only worked so well if they were put together. You know, well rested, well fed, and not looking like the dead. Or, well, more like the dead. 

Vox hadn’t looked away from his many screens, plugged directly into the feed through the ports in the back of his head, seemingly trying to take in as much information as he could at once. Seeming unaware that anyone had entered his domain. Finger numbly tapping away at the large keyboard in front of him. Paying no mind as Alastor stepped beside him. 

His first true note of awareness was when he jerked away from Alastor’s hand touching his shoulder. Screens flickering and sparking rather dramatically as Vox finally broke out of his working stupor. When his screen finally returned to normal, Vox’s eyes turned to look at Alastor. Who merely smiled back.

“...Alastor? What are- How did you get in here?”

“You seem to forget I can move through the shadows.” The Radio Demon held back his chuckle as Vox paused to think those words over. 

“No…I know that. But, that… I told you I was working late today.”

Alastor hummed softly. “Yes, you did. That was also about, oh, four days ago.”

“Four? …No, it’s only been a few hours.”

“Plus a few more. Your business colleagues called me in a tizzy with how long you’ve been in here and how you’ve apparently not been eating or sleeping. Which, seeing your collection of empty energy drink cans, speaks very loudly of this.” To emphasize his point, Alastor gently kicked the nearest can. Which caused the others to clang together in a cascade of clattering. 

“Fuck, has it been… Shit, okay, hold on, I have… There are a few things I need to finish and I’ll be done…”

“No, no, no, none of that.” Alastor quickly but gently took hold of Vox’s wrists when the Media Overlord reached for the keyboard once more. “I think you can pass whatever you’ve been working on to one of your many underpaid underlings to handle.”

“Alastor, let go. It won’t take that long…” Vox’s argument fell on deaf ears as Alastor, not only did not let go of his wrists, but also casually plopped himself down into his partner’s lap. “The fuck, Alastor.”

“Apparently my words aren’t enough to convince you. Guess we’re moving onto the next stage.”

“Alastor-”

“Stop struggling-”

“Would you just-”

“You’re making it worse for yourself.”

“God damn it, stop-” Vox’s screech of outrage was cut off as tendrils of shadows now claimed his wrists. Forcing him to wrap his arms around Alastor. Who smiled as if he had no idea what was going on. “I need to work, Alastor!”

“How are you supposed to work if you’re holding me close like this? It seems to me you’re a little needy for attention at the moment.”

Vox really wanted to argue back. But he did note how comfortably tucked around Alastor he was. As well as how easily he was leaning back into the large office chair. Even with a part of his mind screaming to get back to work, it was a very small portion. Which was ever shrinking as Alastor’s fingers gently traveled over the back of his screen. Said demon taking his time to carefully pull the cables out. 

Each time the stream of information quieted down. 

Each time Vox felt himself sinking into Alastor’s warmth. 

Each time the fight to stay awake fell away. 

Alastor watched in fascination as the surrounding screens, Vox’s face included, started to dim. Humming in contentment as Vox’s eyes finally closed and the Media Overlord fell asleep.

There was a moment of annoyance when his cell phone buzzed once more. Pulling it out to find a text awaiting him. 

‘Did you finally get that fucker to sleep?’

Ah, Velvette had an interesting way of showing she cared. Alastor sent off a quick ‘Yes’ before crushing the accursed thing in his hand. Tossing it aside as he turned back to Vox. Alastor was sure he would get an earful from the other when Vox found out when he’d just done. But that was a future issue. 

Right now, Alastor just wanted to remain in the quiet office before debating over which bedroom to head to. 

“For all that I have to do for you,” Alastor dramatically sighed. Even if no one was there to see the performance. “You’d better appreciate that I care for you so.”

+_+_+_+_+_+

2) Holding Hands with Your Partner

There were very few people that Alastor would allow to touch him. Rosie was an obvious one as he was only alive and where he was today because of her. Mimzy was another given. They were friends when they were alive, so why wouldn’t that connection be continued through death. 

It was even rarer that Alastor would intentionally initiate the contact. That he would seek out that ‘human’ touch that so many others craved. While he deeply cared for Rosie and Mimzy, he could never feel that want for their touch. 

Vox was the only being Alastor sought after. 

The Radio Demon established early in their relationship that Vox would join Alastor for his semi-weekly afternoon stroll. As a way for Vox to take a healthy break from his technology empire. It worked well…for a few years. Until Vox created those horrible cell phones. While their walks did continue, it would normally be interrupted by the Media Overlord’s phone going off. Pulling his attention away from the quiet moment. 

Alastor was annoyed at first. But he calmed himself knowing that Vox’s empire had far more moving pieces than his own. So, if Vox had to put out a few fires while they were together, so be it. 

Plus, it resulted in an aspect of a walk that Alastor really enjoyed. 

As Vox tended to not really pay attention to his surroundings while he was discussing on the phone, it was up to Alastor to keep him out of the road. Which resulted in the Radio Demon needing to hook his arm around the other’s. Gripping Vox’s hand gently to properly steer him away from danger. Like unintentionally walking into traffic. 

That was the scene set for the citizens of the Pride Ring. Vox conversed with someone over the phone while Alastor led the way down the sidewalk. Happily squeezing the Media Overlord’s hand with his own while the other hand held his staff. Uncaring as sinners quickly got out of their way. Less obstacles needed to avoid.

The quiet afternoon was shattered when a sinner, Alastor having no idea who, appeared before them. 

“Alastor!” the sinner called out, “That ‘so-called’ dangerous Radio Demon. I’m calling your bullshit out!”

Ah, they were very new apparently. Alastor’s smile tightened as all parties ignored how the street was suddenly cleared of anyone else. 

“Are we feeling bored today?” Alastor replied back casually, “Have nothing better to do?”

“Shut up! I can’t believe you’re the demon so many people are afraid of. You’re a fucking pansy. Holding hands like a faggot with your stupid little flat faced bitch-”

The sinner barely had time to blink before they were consumed by black tendrils erupted beneath them. Only their hand was seen through the mess. A muffled scream barely heard as they were lowered into the shadowy pit. Alastor watched all of this gleefully as the sinner disappeared. 

People could bad mouth him all day and he would call it ‘low level entertainment’. 

Turn that to Vox and that’s where they fuck up.

It all only lasted a few seconds, the road returning to the normal quiet calm when the shadows and sinner disappeared. 

“Yeah, okay, just give them the contract and set up a meeting next week. We’ve worked on this long enough.” Vox let out a huff as he ended the call. When he finally took in his surroundings, he frowned in confusion. “Why did we stop?”

“Just had to worry about some trash. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Alastor smirks gleefully, watching at the rosy hue that appeared on Vox’s screen. 

“Whatever, are we okay to go on?”

“Of course, dear.”

+_+_+_+_+_+

3) Holding Them Close While Dancing

Alastor didn’t turn away from the microphone hearing the studio door open. His ears twitching the only indication that he knew someone had entered. 

“Well, my dear listeners, it seems that this broadcast is coming to a close. Don’t fret yourself as I will be back next week. More wonderful music sent to you through the airwaves, along with the latest stories and tales that Hell has to offer. For now, enjoy this send off and take care.”

Muting his microphone, Alastor let out a small sigh before turning his chair, still not addressing his guest. He already knew it was Vox. Said Media Overlord would be leaning against the wall of the studio closest to the door. No doubt watching closely as Alastor placed a new record on. Using a physical record player, mind you. He’ll leave the digital aspect of entertainment to Vox. 

Speaking of…

With all of it set up, Alastor rose from his chair and turned to Vox. Softly smiling as he silently holds out a hand.

Vox took it quickly. Pulling the other Overlord closer and placing his free hand on Alastor’s shoulder. Who let out a soft chuckle as he rested his other hand on Vox’s waist. 

“Will you ever feel comfortable enough to lead?” Alastor playfully teased as they slowly began to sway.

“You mean having to take control after having to run a business all day? Never.” 

They shared a soft laugh, pressing closer. Alastor bends down slightly to press their foreheads together. Watching as Vox closed his eyes, screen dimmed softly as the Media Overlord rested against Alastor happily.

It was a sort of ritual they had started years ago. When Vox was so focused and working hard on building his empire. Just like the required afternoon walks, they’d started to share a dance on the last song of Alastor’s broadcast. A request made by Vox this time.

Alastor was more than happy to comply. 

So, like clockwork, Vox will arrive to Alastor’s radio tower just as he announces the broadcast’s conclusion. Waiting for Alastor to initiate the contact so he doesn’t interrupt. When this started, Vox would be too exhausted to actually stand, let alone dance. Both arms draped over Alastor’s shoulders while he cozied up as best he could. 

On his part, Alastor was more than happy to cradle the other close. Using his arms and shadows to keep Vox upright. When the song ended, Vox would already be asleep, meaning Alastor would have to carry him off to bed. 

As the years passed, Vox would have enough energy to keep up. It wasn’t a proper dance as the Media Overlord had no idea how to. But just slowly swaying seemed to be enough for him.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Alastor had asked long ago, whispering as to not disrupt the song, “What brought this on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s clear you can’t dance.”

“Hey now.”

“But, you’re not asking me to teach you. We just casually sway. So this isn’t a request to show off your moves. Which brings me back to my previous question. Why did you request this?” Alastor watched in fascination as Vox’s screen turned a pinkish blue hue. A clear indication of Vox being flustered. 

“You’ll think it’s stupid.” Was the weakly offered reply. 

“I very much doubt that. I may tease, but know that I do care about your thoughts.” 

Vox was quiet for a few more moments before answering with, “I was…just worried I’d be too focused on working and I wouldn’t give time to you. I know that I’m best with schedules. So, I made sure to schedule time with you.”

“Like dancing at the end of my broadcasts.”

“Yeah.” Vox’s quiet worry was quickly dispelled as Alastor nuzzled against him, laughing softly.

“Aren't you absolutely sweet.”

“Shut up.” The wide smile didn’t back up the words. 

That was all. A process they’d kept for years, never breaking it once. Potential clients learned very quickly to not get in Vox’s way when it was broadcast night. 

“Did I lose you?”

Alastor blinked a few times before focusing on Vox. Said Overlord raising a brow with a smile.

“Just past memories, nothing to worry about.”

They stilled as the song reached its conclusion. Still close as they lovingly stared at each other. 

“Don’t suppose I could ask for one more dance?” Vox asked. 

Alastor’s smile grew at that. “Of course. Anything for you.” 

+_+_+_+_+_+

4) Putting Your Arms Around Their Waist or Shoulders

While both were some time of Overlord in media form, how they built their empire was differently obtained. 

Alastor worked in the shadows. Built around mystery as he appeared to not hold many contracts but somehow held a lot of power. He was a quiet stalker who watched and waited for the moment to strike. A being who could be unassuming…if you didn’t know better.

Vox was loud and in your face. Which made sense considering his power grew from eyes on screens. He was all about being the loudest voice and biggest personality in the room. Contracts were plentiful. Always growing as Vox could convince anyone with his charm and voice to hand over their souls. Vox was teasingly marked to be the ‘face of the people’ for how often he was seen around the city.

They were practically opposites, but worked so well together. 

That didn’t mean they had to enjoy everything the other did. 

Such as Vox’s bi-annual ‘party’. An all day event where he could mingle with other powerful demons and swindle souls on hard times or those with hopes of entertainment dreams. It was absolutely his element. 

Vox loved it.

Alastor…could stomach it. Sometimes. Rarely.

This was not his favorite scene. Only going to show quiet support and to gleefully watch the idiots who gave their souls away so easily. As well as to keep an eye on anyone who could even assume they could challenge or attack Vox. As the years passed and Vox became an Overlord of his own name, Alastor spent less time at these events. Appearing more at the end of the event to make sure he could pull Vox away to a quiet room. The Media Overlord tended to get more than a little tipsy at the end of the night.

It was one such evening, rather early evening to Alastor’s normal arrival time, that he appeared from the shadows. Ignoring the frantic footsteps as sinners fleed, he instead focused on the rather blinding lights emitting from the Vees Tower as he walked in. 

The large entrance showed the scars of hosting such a large event. Trash was everywhere, along with some articles of clothing that Alastor gave a wide berth to. A number of furniture pieces were either turned over or broken, no doubt Vox would be frustrated with needing to replace so many. Food and drink were found in some rather odd places. The floor practically covered with passed out sinners. 

How hard has some partied this year? No matter, they would be out on the streets soon enough and become someone else’s problem. 

Alastor weaved his way around the mess, having no envy for those who would be put in charge of cleaning this place up. Eyes continuously scanned the area as he searched for the only reason he came here. Relief hitting his chest as Alastor finally found Vox…only for it to falter seeing how uncomfortable the other appeared. 

To the untrained soul, Vox appeared to be completely at ease. Leaning against the bar with his signature smile on his face, eyes on his conversation companion. It seemed that he was fully interested in what was happening.

Alastor knew better. The smile was tight. Eyes would quickly flicker away to survey the area before returning to the other. His freehand that was holding the glass was wrapped around his middle. His entire form was tense, as if he was ready to run the moment he could. Why Vox hadn’t just left was the question Alastor had on his mind. One he would worry about after he got Vox away from here. 

While he could just walk over, Alastor decided to create a rather grand entrance by traveling through the shadows. Appearing behind Vox the next second, casually wrapping his arms around the Media Overlord. Humming softly as he rested his chin on Vox’s shoulder. 

“Hello there, dear,” Alastor whispered, “I thought you’d have wrapped up by now.”

Vox practically melted against Alastor. Arms crossed over to join the Radio Demon’s as his smirk became more genuine. “Hey you. Sorry, I was just holding a conversation far longer than I thought it would go.”

At that small gesture towards the other sinner, Alastor finally gave his undivided attention over to them. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have assumed she was from the Envy ring. Carrying very heavy aquatic features. Hair a fiery red contained in one long fin. Skin pale bluish-gray with spiral designs of dark blue patterned around it. Thick fins appear on her elbows and behind her legs, traveling up from her heels to just below her knees. Yellow eyes narrowed on Alastor. Clearly upset he’d interrupted the conversation. 

“Oh? It must have been riveting if you’re still listening.” Alastor purred back, arms tightening around Vox in a clear stance of ‘mine’. 

The glass in the sinner’s hand let out a worrying cracking sound as she gripped it tighter. 

Seems someone was hoping to score a night with the Media Overlord. How unfortunate for her.

“It was…informative.” Vox replied, clearly trying not to make the situation worse. He wanted out, not a fight.

“I’m sure you can tell me all about it later. Why don’t we retire for the evening?”

“And who exactly are you?” The sinner finally spoke up. Alastor having just moved to stare between her and Vox, back facing her. 

Smile tightengin, the Radio Demon slowly turned his head to stare back at her. The air filled with warning static as he answered with, “I’m his husband.”

She immediately backed down. Either from the heavy air due to the magic or from the sharp statement, Alastor didn’t know or care. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Vox as he led him away. Making for the elevator to Vox’s private suite. 

“Thank you.” Vox whispered with a heavy sigh. 

“I will never understand why you don’t just kill the sinners that bother you and move on.”

“That doesn’t look good if I just kill when I don’t find something interesting. Young sinners will be fearful if they think bad ideas will equate to them being killed.”

“You’re such a bleeding heart.”

“As if!”

They shared a laugh as the elevator doors opened. Alastor shifted them to press Vox against the back of the as a shadow tendril pushed the button. Claiming a kiss just as the doors began to close.

+_+_+_+_+_+

5) Gently Touching Them

The bedroom was dark and unnervingly quiet. So still was the atmosphere. Vark laid, as best he could, across the foot of the bed. Whining softly as his wide eyes looked up to the still form. Alastor, who’d pulled up one of the large chairs in the bedroom, placed a few comforting pets to the shark's head. His tense smile softens slightly to try and offer some comfort to the creature. But it was very little as they both looked back at the bed’s occupant. 

Vox had been laying in his bed since yesterday afternoon. Being brought down by a rather nasty virus. Leaving his screen black and inoperative as his body was a dull blue. It was eerie, as he appeared to be dead. Alastor would have believed so if he didn’t know better. At the moment, Vox was just asleep. 

“Energy reserve. His body needs to rest while it fights whatever’s taken him down.” Velvette had helpfully explained the first time Alastor was introduced to this. 

Even with how painfully worrying this all was, Alastor knew all he could do now was wait. Wait in painful silence for Vox to offer some sort of life. Leaving Alastor and Vark to watch on nervously.

The quiet was suddenly interrupted when Vox’s body suddenly convulsed. His screen flashing between the blue screen with a long string of text that Alastor couldn’t read to the technical difficulty rainbow signal image. Vark jerked away, having to move to avoid either being kicked or shocked by the small bolts of electricity.

Alastor stood from the chair. Ignoring the painful shocks as he held the other down by his shoulders. Waiting for the episode to subside as he watched Vox flail in pain. When the Media Overlord calmed down and the room fell back into the cool darkness, Alastor whispered out, “Vox?”

He didn’t receive a verbal reply. Instead his ears twitched hearing a small ‘beep’ sound from the same screen he was holding. Leaning closer, Alastor watched the upper left corner as his name was slowly typed out. 

Alastor?

Well, at least he was somewhat awake and aware. 

“Hello dear, how are you feeling?” Alastor spoke softly. He sat on the edge of the bed as he moved his hands to gently take Vox’s own.

Tired…

“That’s understandable.”

What happened?

“A virus is taking its toll on you. Don’t worry, no one but your business partners and I know.”

There was a garbled line of text following this. Alastor had learned long ago that this was Vox’s written version of rambling rage. ‘Keyboard Smashing’ he believed the terminology was for this. He couldn’t help but laugh softly. Gently running his hands along Vox’s arms to hopefully soothe him. 

“Calm yourself. Getting angry will help with nothing, especially not in your current situation.”

An attack?

“Possibly. Velvette is looking into it currently. If it is, I’ll let you know so we can plan a proper punishment for the sinner. For now, you need to rest.”

Alastor’s touches moved beyond Vox’s arms to wherever he could comfortably reach. Along the other Overlord’s chest and stomach, neck and back, and feather touches along the frame of the dark screen. His smile softens as he watches Vox relax further. An indication that he was falling asleep once more.

“I’ll be here,” Alastor whispered, “Just relax…”

He leaned forward to gently press a kiss onto Vox’s screen.

“I’m here…”

______________________________________________________________

Vox

1) Cuddling with Them / Playing with Their Hair

Vox will thank whatever higher power that had given him a chance to allow Alastor to trust him so much. Granted, it had been an uphill fight for years to get to this point. Many, many years. But it was absolutely worth it for an evening like this. Even if it starts off in a rather terrifying situation. 

It was when the feed of a certain section of the city started to flicker out of view that alerter Vox that something was wrong. He recognized the familiar static and glitch as Alastor’s. But also understood the next second that the Radio Demon was not in the best of moods because the feed was almost destroyed with how extreme the distortion was. Upon realizing there was danger approaching his tower, Vox departed from his office as quickly as he could. 

When Vox reached the entry level was the same time that Alastor all but stormed into the large shop. With an air of ‘I’ll kill the next person who even looks at me wrong’ and a mix of radio static. Which cleared out the store quickly until it was just the Overlords. 

Vox couldn’t help but freeze when their eyes connected. A cold sensation washing over him. Even if they were together, he was also aware that Alastor was not in the best place, mentally or emotionally, at the moment. So he was in a dangerously sensitive situation.

Never breaking eye contact, Vox carefully held out a hand towards the Radio Demon. Alastor’s eyes flickered down to it for a brief moment before returning back to Vox. Who didn’t dare blink. It was a tense few seconds until Alastor let out a huff and took it. 

 At least he was aware enough to know who Vox was and what was happening.

Deeming it safe, Vox blinked and relaxed slightly. Taking another risk, he turned away to lead the way back to the elevator. Never releasing Alastor’s hand as he pushed the button to his private penthouse.

First goal was to get and keep Alastor away from everyone else.

The elevator dinged to announce their arrival to the selected floor. Vox gently and slowly moved out, continually pulling Alastor along with him. Now here, the next thing to cross off was to get food in them both. While he would never admit it, one of Alastor’s comforts was feeding Vox.

The moment he was free from the elevator, Alastor broke away. Vox watched as he made his way to the kitchen. Carefully moving to the barstools as his eyes never moved away from the other as the kitchen was upturned while supplies were being pulled out. The Media Overlord more than content with watching as Alastor moved around the polished space.

In almost no time, a bowl was placed in front of Vox. Who looked down to take in the contents. Jambalaya. Ah, he really wasn’t in a good mood if he was going right to his comfort meal. He didn’t question it as he began to eat. Looking back up quickly to watch as Alastor tucked into his own portion.

His smile was still tight, meaning his mood was still sour. Point further made when Alastor let out a low growl as he glared at his bowl. Even after the food was finished, it apparently did very little to help the situation. 

Taking a bit of a risk, Vox slowly made his way over. Removing the empty bowl from Alastor’s tight grip and put them away. Hands free once more, Vox put his full attention on the other sinner. Listening for any warning growls as he reaches out to gently cup Alastor’s cheek.

The first crack in the armor appeared when Alastor easily pressed against it. 

“How about we go lay down for a bit, yeah?”

While Alastor didn’t say anything, he did grab Vox’s wrist and pulled him over to the large couch. The Media Overlord unable to hold back a small chuckle. Giving another small noise of surprise when he was suddenly pushed down onto the couch. Recovering quickly to get a bit more comfortable as Alastor joined him. The Radio Demon practically clawing at Vox’s shirt while he laid across the other. Head laying down on Vox’s shoulder as he closed his eyes. 

Freeing his hands, Vox gently ran his fingers through Alastor’s hair. Scratching at his scalp and carefully pulling out some knots. 

That got the response Vox had been waiting for. Alastor practically melted at the touches, his smile now one of genuine comfort. The Media Overlord shifted slightly so he could place gentle kisses between Alastor’s ears. Hands never stopping, moving between the hair and rubbing the large ears. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Vox whispered, hands never stopping.

“No.” Was the short reply. The only word said for who knows how many hours. 

Vox chuckles softly, “Okay. You don’t have to, I won’t force it. Do you at least want to move to the bed at some point?”

“No.”

“Alright then. Guess we’re sleeping here tonight.”

And they did. Neither moving, Alastor still laying across Vox, cheek pressed against the other’s shoulder. Vox’s screen dimmed with a very faint ‘on standby’ displayed. Fingers still tangled in the red hair. 

+_+_+_+_+_+

2) Whispering in Their Ear

“Hey Bambi.”

Vox couldn’t help but laugh as he watched Alastor’s ear flickered at his gentle whisper. Voluntary or involuntary, it wasn’t quite clear. But the annoyance on Alastor’s face was very much intentional.

“Must you?” The Radio Demon’s eyes narrowed further as Vox casually dropped next to him onto the couch. 

“Must I what? Tease you? Of course! Anyway I can see your more ‘animalistic’ side, I’ll take every chance.” 

“You’re lucky I find you so amusing.”

“Only amusing! Bambi, you hurt me, I thought I was more than just entertainment for you?” Vox let out a dramatic sigh as he lay across Alastor. Who attempted to pay him no mind, but his smile did soften. 

“Yes, well, don’t push your luck.”

Alastor couldn’t hold back a laugh as Vox shifted so he could gently pin the Radio Demon down. 

“I will push what I like.” Vox teased back.

“What am I going to do with you.”

“Would you stop making it sound like being with me is some kind of punishment! You agreed to this!”

Alastor let out another burst of laughter at Vox’s pout.

_________________________

“Alastor.” 

The Radio Demon couldn’t help the shiver that traveled up his spine. His name whispered in such a way that shook him to his core in the best way. Previous tense posture in which Alastor was glaring at the hotel wall melted away. 

Letting out a small hum, he turned to better address Vox. Who was leaning over the back of the couch.

“What can I help you with, my Podcast?”

“Were you trying to burn a hole into the wall?” The Media Overlord attempted to sound casual.

“Now why would I go and do a thing like that? Purposefully damage my pet project. How dare you assume something so horrible.”

“Well, your face said everything that you’re pissed about something.”

Alastor hummed once more as his reply. He playfully rolled his eyes as he was gently pulled close to Vox. Happy to drape himself over the other Overlord even as his face remained blanked.

“Did you talk to Velvette?” Vox whispered softly.

Alastor’s ears flicked casually in response. “...Yes.”

“You know not all of Hell would go for the Hotel. Also, it’s Hell. Sinners will pick apart everything if they’re bored.”

“I’m more worried about Charlie,” Alastor mumbled back, “She’s been held up in her room all day.” 

Vox laughed softly, “You’re such a bleeding heart.”

Shifting closer, Alastor tucked his head closer to Vox’s chest. “Don’t call me that.”

“Of course not. Never.”

Ears flickered softly as the whispers once more. 

_________________________

It was the middle of the night and Vox couldn’t sleep. Staring up at the canopy above him while his arms were gently placed around Alastor. Said demon fast asleep, eyes closed with his mouth still curved up in a small smile. At least he’d been able to fall asleep easily. On Vox’s part, his mind was a buzz of never ending information. 

One of the major downsides to being the Media Overlord was the never really finding a moment of quiet. How he could never properly connect from everything. 

Letting out a slow sigh, Vox shifted enough to look down at Alastor. Fingers gently running through the soft red hair. 

“Hey Alastor,” Vox whispered. Even as Alastor slept peacefully, his ears twitched as if he was listening. At least, that’s what Vox liked to believe. “I hope you don’t mind if I talk for a while. I know you harp on me not sleeping well. But it’s kind of hard when my mind won’t shut up. I’m sure I’ll wear myself out eventually. Until then, do you mind if I just ramble?”

Alastor’s ears twitched once more.

“I’ll take that as a yes…”

+_+_+_+_+_+

3) Massaging Their Feet

Vox knew Alastor was only his true self when it was just them behind closed doors. When the Radio Demon knew he could relax because the target was no longer on his back. Knowing he could leave whatever he needed to at the door until he was in public view once more. 

Vox also knew that Alastor would rather look perfectly put together than to let Hell obtained features be seen. 

Case in point, when Alastor decided that wearing shoes over his hooves was a practical idea.

Said Radio Demon held back a grateful grunt of relief when both of his hooves were freed. His shoes may have been fashionable, but they were also extremely tight. It also didn’t help that he was stuck on wearing shoes that were more meant for ‘humans’ and not hooves. 

“I’m still not sure I fully understand why you insist on wearing shoes at all.” Vox commented as he carried the tray filled with tea and cups over to the small end table. Setting it down before sitting next to Alastor. 

“Hooves don’t really pull the whole ensemble together,” Alastor replied while rubbing his ankles, “Apparently antlers are menacing. Hooves, not as much.”

“They are rather adorable.”

“You’re not helping.”

Vox couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I suppose deer hooves are not the same as goat hooves. Either way, the point I’m trying to get is to question if fashion is more important than comfort.”

“The short answer is yes.”

“What’s the long answer?”

“Don’t want to waste the time.”

Rolling his eyes, Vox focused instead on putting Alastor’s cup together. Holding it out and was greeted with a raised brow by Alastor.

“I can make my own cup.”

“Would you please just take it.”

Alastor did with a small huff. Following it with a small bleat of shock as he was moved to lay across the couch. With his feet resting comfortably on Vox’s lap. 

“How is this, comfortable?” Vox asked. 

Alastor shuffled slightly before nodding. “Fine.”

“Good. You just relax, I’ll take care of the rest.”

Alastor’s question of what Vox was planning was answered when skilled hands started to massage his legs, primarily focusing on the hooves that had caused so much trouble that day. There was a heavy shiver that traveled through his body before Alastor sunk further into the couch. Happy to nurse his cup while Vox moved his hands down to work on the hooves next. 

The room soon filled with gentle jazz music as Alastor closed his eyes. 

+_+_+_+_+_+

4) Gazing at Them/Into Their Eyes

Vox growled softly as his foot tapped against the elevator floor. Glaring at the glowing numbers as if that would make it faster. He really should start setting alarms instead of relying on Velvette or Peppermint to alert him when he needs to leave for the Overlord’s meeting. The former forgot just as often as Vox did and Peppermint… Maybe he’s given too much work. 

Ah, an issue for another time. 

Grumbling out a low ‘Finally.’ as the elevator lets out a loud ding, Vox slips between the slowly opening doors to try and beat the clock as he heads straight for the wide meeting room. Which did not go unnoticed by those already there, the rest of the Overlords. 

“We’re cutting it a little close today, aren’t we.” Carmilla commented without looking up from her papers. 

“Sorry for making sure Hell can function without me steering the ship. Controlling the entire electrical infrastructure tends to take up a lot of time.” Vox sniped back with a sharp smirk.

“Perhaps if you hired reliable contracts to work for you, you wouldn’t be so busy. Or, at the very least, help you keep track on time. But what do I know? It’s not as if we both run major businesses.”

Velvette was right. Carmilla was an old bitch.

Smirk becoming a little strained now, Vox turned to claim a seat next to Alastor. Only to find that all were occupied. Those closest taken by Rosie and Zestial. Vox knew he’d never get the Cannibal Overlord to move and Zestial could never be pushed from his front pedestal. 

“May I direct you to the otherside of the table for a chair?” Carmilla sweetly asked with a smug smile on her face. 

Vox didn’t reply this time. Instead he gave a small huff, keeping his head held high as he walked over to claim the last empty chair. Sitting down with the air of indifference, turning his attention back to Carmilla. 

“Now that we’re all here…” As the weapons dealer officially started the meeting. Vox’s attention instantly began to slip. 

His form eventually slumps into the chair. Eyes lidded as he followed Camilla’s movements and the information that was projected onto the screen. Resting his head on his hand to get in a more comfortable position as his attention slowly turned over to Alastor. Who was fully focused on what was happening. 

It was something that Vox found absolutely fascinating about the Radio Demon. For someone so terrifying, he did deeply care about the citizens of Hell. It’s one of the many reasons Vox adored Alastor. Because he does worry about the residents of Hell, even if he never shows it. Deciding instead to be fearful than fluffy. A scary sweetheart. Deranged darling.

He’s so cute.

“Am I boring you, Vox?”

The spell was broken by Carmilla’s voice. Vox blinking furiously as the cloud of daydreaming floats away, propping himself back up in his chair. Noting how all eyes are on him again. Alastor’s smile seemed to be wider somehow.

“Ah, what, no. I’m fine.” Vox cleared his throat, shifting a little further. 

Carmilla raised a brow, frowned deeping, but said nothing more about it. Instead, she turned back to her notes.

Letting out a slow sigh, Vox settled back down. Attempting to truly stay focused on what was no doubt important information. Only to be pulled away when a tingle of being watched traveled over him. Causing him to turn away once more, 

Vox’s search was over quickly when his eyes connected with Alastor. Who was still facing forward but side eyeing the Media Overlord. 

Alastor’s smile softened as their eyes met. Giving a slow blink that caused Vox’s heart to beat faster in happiness. The action a silent way for the other to say he missed Vox. How he wants to give his full attention to his partner but clearly couldn’t at that point. In response, Vox leans on his hand once more as he returns his own slow blink back. Eyes lidded as he watched Alastor’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. Ears twitching in joy. 

Vox unable to hold back the happy sigh as Alastor smiled back. 

“Would you please just stop!” Carmilla’s shout caused all to jump.

“You seem a little tense,” Alastor replied softly, “Whatever’s the matter?”

“Your flirting is causing Vox’s power to interfere with the building’s power.”

“Then it may be best to postpone this until you can fix that faulty wiring. It’s poor performance if your building could possibly be interrupted by Vox. I’m sure his exhaustion isn’t helping with all of this.”

“Alastor-”

“If you’re really that concerned, maybe your time would be best spent on creating a seating chart.”

With that, Alastor stood and made his way to the door. Vox followed close behind soon after. Neither said anything until they were in the elevator, the doors closing and moving down.

“...Was I really that out of it?” Vox asked, sounding worried.

Alastor laughed, “You’re such a silly little sinner. My silly little sinner. Adorable.”

+_+_+_+_+_+

5) Telling Them You Love Them

“I love you.” Vox nervously sputtered out. Feeling unbearably warm under the orange turtleneck as he held out the single rose. Insides squirming as he waited for Alastor to do…anything.

The Radio Demon observed the offered flower with a raised brow for a few moments. For Vox, it felt like hours. His fear rising slightly as Alstor finally reached out to pluck a flower from the Media demon’s hold. Said flower instantly withered in the gentle grasp. Turning whatever bravado Vox might have had to flicker away almost instantly.

“Oh, shit- fuck. I’m sorry, I forgot-” 

“It’s a rather dangerous game you’re playing,” Alastor spoke softly, “Handing your heart over to someone who causes such destruction with a simple touch.”

“You’re not always like that.”

“Can you afford the risk?”

“...I’d like to try.” Vox’s mouth snapped shut hearing Alastor’s gentle laugh. Watching in small fascination as the dried rose was raised, Alastor chomped down to completely consume the ash pedals. Vox’s only able to watch.

“You are such a charmer,” Alastor replied after swallowing. “It’s far too soon for you to say such words… But you are entertaining. I won't lie and say that I’m a bit curious.”

Hope rising once more, Vox couldn’t help but smile widely. “So does that mean… Are we?”

“What a way with words you have. I’ll save you the fumbling and just reply with yes, we are.”

Vox pulled himself back from a full crash. 

_________________________

The raining of blood was nothing new. The cause of said blood was a little different. 

Vox could only watch with one functioning eye, hand covering the part of his screen that was broken, as Alastor easily tore the nearest sinner apart. In his full demon form as his glowing eyes hunting down his next victim, the air filled with horrible static. Loud enough to cause the lighting in the nearby area to flicker. 

As the alleyway cleared out, Alastor started to finally calm down. Not enough to be rid of his twisted form fully. But enough to at least shrink down to look Vox over better. Intending on taking stalk with how damaged the Media demon was. 

On his part, as soon Alastor was within reach, Vox cupped his hands around the scared cheeks. Uncaring at how deformed the other was. His only visible eye showing nothing but adoration for Alastor. All of which caused the Radio Demon to pause in slight confusion.

“You’re fucking beautiful…” Vox’s voice glitched but was clear enough to sound breathless. 

Alastor let out a crackly chuckle as he nuzzled against the hands framing his face. 

“I love you.” 

A gentle nip to the skin was the reply.

_________________________

Alastor was practically dancing as he moved around the sleek, modern kitchen. Humming along with the song playing on the radio he’d brought along with him. Seeming to float as he built that evening’s meal. 

Vox more than happy to watch, sitting at the island as he leaned on his hand. Eyes lidded as he took in every inch of his partner. Which eventually caught the Radio Demon’s attention.

Leaving the soup to simmer, Alastor turned to lean over the island countertop. His smile softened as he reached across to gently pull Vox’s hand free, placing a kiss on the back of it. The Media Overlord’s stomach felt warm with growing happiness. 

“Are you enjoying the show?” Alastor asked, voice so low that it caused a shiver to travel up Vox’s spine. 

“Of course. To use your own words, if I may, you’re very entertaining.”

Letting out a chuckle, Alastor nuzzled against the hand he still held. “Intimidation is the highest form of flattery.”

“I don’t think using your quote is intimidation.”

“Just take the compliment.”

“I love you.”

A small but joyous huff sounded, Alastor placing one more kiss. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I thought I was entertaining!”

“That’s my title for this evening. Yours is ridiculous.”

_________________________

“This is so unnecessary.”

“Just take it Alastor” 

“I don’t need it.”

“It’ll make me feel better.”

“That sounds like a you issue.”

Vox let out a low groan as he laid his face against the smooth tabletop. The hand that was holding the practically shiny new phone still propped up to hold it out to the Radio Demon.

“Alastor…please…I’m just trying to help.”

“In what way would a cellular device help me? Unless you’ve made it so it can be transformed into a weapon of some kind.”

“I could do that.”

“Vox.”

The Media Overlord let out a heavy sigh as he stared the other down. “Alastor.”

“What would you have me do with this?”

“Call for help?”

“Oh, please.”

“What if you needed to contact Velvette or Valentino?”

“Why would I need to contact your business partners?”

“What if you need to contact me?”

“Are you planning on severing our bond?”

“No, never!”

“So no need to call.”

“This could help you look up recipes.”

“You know I prefer printed materials.”

Vox let out another groan.

On his part, Alastor tilted his head with his smile softening. “What are you so adamant about me holding onto this?”

“Because I love you and this would make me feel happy in knowing you had this on you. Like a ‘just in case’ kind of thing. Plus, I have one of your radios, why can’t you have one of my phones?”

Alastor’s face was a little tight at this. Shoulders dropped as he turned away. Eventually letting out a sigh of his own as he picked the phone up from Vox’s hand. “Well…how could I argue with that logic…”

Vox beamed. 

_________________________

Alastor checked his tie one last time in the nearest window before entering the Vee Tower’s property.The area practically vibrated from the music pouring out from inside. Which almost knocked Alastor over when the double doors opened. Ears flattening at distress.

The launch party was in full swing. Sinners dancing, drinking, and engaging in some rather intense intercourse on whatever flat surface that could be found. Alastor pointedly ignored as much as he could in his attempts to peer through the strobing lights. Trying to find the reason as to why he even showed up to the stupid event.

Alastor’s search was paused when an arm was casually draped around his shoulder. Ready to tear it and the sinner apart, only to stop himself when he saw it was Valentino.

“Glad to see you could finally show up.” The Lustful Overlord said softly, clearly unhappy with how ‘late’ the other was. Or possibly just being upset that Alastor was here at all. 

On his part, Alastor slowly plucked the arms off of him and dropped it away from him as soon as possible. “I’m not here for the party, you know this. Where is he.”

“He who?” Valentino’s smirk made Alastor’s glare harden.

“Where is Vox.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s here somewhere.”

“If you’re worried about me being properly supportive, then allow me to be so for the person who needs it. And you aren’t breaking any new grounds, neither is Velvette. Although I put my money on her having the creative streak after Vox compared to your ‘works’. If I’m to show support, I need to be with Vox. Therefore, I need to know where he is. So…where is he?”

Valentino’s smirk fell into a glower, but he did nod his head towards the elevator. The one that went to Vox’s private penthouse. Alastor gave a nod and turned, knowing he’d only gain a small victory at that moment. But he would take it.

The ride up thankfully quieted the blaring music, eventually causing it to disappear soon enough. Doors opening to a darkened penthouse. 

Vark was laying at the foot of the couch, raising his head when the elevator opened. Tail gently thumped against the floor happy to see Alastor and laid his head back down. He knew that Alastor meant safe. On his part, the Radio Demon walked in and understood why Vark was where he was.

Vox was laying on the same couch, screen dim and completely limp. Clearly asleep. No doubt the many sleepless nights of getting the project ready for release finally caught up to him. Letting out a small coo, Alastor appreached. Grabbing a blanket along the way and draping it over the still form. 

Vox twitched before his screen turned on, eyes looking around quickly. “Wha…”

“Just me,” Alastor whispered quickly, “Just me, my dear. You’re okay.”

“Mmm… When did you get here?” The Media Overlord let out a warm cycle of air before gently grabbing Alastor’s hand. Who sat as comfortably as he could sitting on the edge of the cushions. 

“A few minutes ago. How’d the speech go?”

“Fine…you would have been bored…”

Alastor hummed, watching as Vox started to fall asleep once more. “I’m very proud of you.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course…”

Vox’s system let out another heavy cycle as his screen turned dark. Sleep claiming him once more. Lifting the hand he still held, Alastor placed a kiss to the knuckles, smiling softly.

“I love you…”

[abeautylives]

Imperfect Moments - Chapter One

a/n: This is my first intentional series, I hope you love it 🥹 I don’t have a posting schedule in mind but I do have several chapters already locked and loaded.

Series Masterlist

pairing: Jakexfemale!reader

word count: 1.4k this chapter

series summary: You’re in love with your best friend. His twin brother hates you. Or does he?

warnings: none this chapter aside from a little language

jake_gvf just posted a photo

The notification appears and you flick it away.

Jake’s updates are the rarest and yet they irritate you the most. Josh had convinced you to follow everyone in the band, to “keep up with us when we’re gone,” and you’d done it simply because he’d asked. On the off chance that he’s posted a picture including his twin, you decide to open the app.

So pretentious. Bitch, you’re not a pirate.

Lame.

You leave the comment, knowing he’ll never see it.

When your phone starts ringing in your hands, you can’t help but smile as your favorite picture of Josh’s face graces the screen.

“Joshua, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You’ve really done it now, darling,” your heart rate picks up at the nickname, “Jake’s pissed.”

“Pissed about what?” You’re actually confused. You haven’t seen or even been in the same state as Jake in weeks. You rarely speak to him.

“Your little comment on his picture. Oh, he’s completely up in arms over it, throwing an actual tantrum! They call me the dramatic one.” Josh’s laughter is infectious and you join in happily, until what he’s saying sinks in.

“Wait, how did he even see that? He reads his own Instagram comments?” You didn’t think they took much control over that kind of thing, and you definitely didn’t think yours would stand out amongst the flood of fans drooling over him.

“Jacob takes his work on social media very seriously Y/N,” his tone is stern until a giggle comes over the line. He’s joking, but you’re chewing over your bottom lip, still concerned that your comment had even blipped on Jake’s radar.

“Y/N? You there?”

Shaken out of your contemplation, you fix a smile onto your lips that Josh can’t see. “Yeah! Sorry, sorry you have to deal with that. He’s so annoying.”

“No, this is great. I love it when you get under his skin, the entertainment is free. I do need to go though, just wanted to say thank you for making me laugh from afar.”

“Pleased to be of service,” you chuckle, proud of yourself for earning the praise of the older twin. “When do you get back?”

“Hmm, I think we’ll be home next week. Maybe Friday? I’ll let you know, we can go out!”

“Sounds good, I miss you already,” it slips out, but you mean it.

“We haven’t been gone that long! I’ve gotta go darling, talk soon!”

“Yeah, talk soon. Bye J-“

He’s already hung up.

You’re not sure why you’ve never clicked with Jake when it had been instant with his literal carbon copy, he’d immediately seemed to dislike you after your first meeting. You figure it’s probably because he’s too pretty for his own good and unfortunately, he knows it.

Josh is pretty like that too, unbelievably so, but it’s almost like he has no idea. You love that about him. You love everything about him. You might be in love with him.

He’s completely oblivious.

It’s hard to not develop a crush on Josh. You’re sure that anyone who’s ever interacted with him walks away a little bit in love, and you interact with him more than most but in over a year, he’s never given you the impression that he feels anything more than platonic affection for you.

Stupidly, that hasn’t stopped you from letting your world revolve around him.

Over a thousand miles away, reclined against the pillows of his claimed bed in the hotel room he’s currently sharing with his brother, Jake is staring at his phone. Fuming.

“What the fuck is her problem?”

“Who?” Josh can’t help but poke the bear.

“Your little friend, where does she get off calling me lame? Like she doesn’t know who the fuck I am.” Jake’s a humble guy, normally. Or at least he thinks he is.

“And who the fuck are you, Jake, hm? I quite enjoy that she doesn’t like you.”

“What you quite enjoy is that she only likes you. You love the attention, it’s sort of pathetic.” He doesn’t mean it, not really, but the friendship between you and his brother grates on his nerves in a way he won’t bother explaining. “You know she’s into you, right?”

“Y/N?! No, it’s not like that with us.”

“Josh, it’s not like that with you. She never leaves you alone. She likes you, it’s disturbingly obvious.”

“To who?” He seems genuinely surprised by this revelation, eyebrows raised high on his forehead.

“You’re an idiot,” Jake mutters it under his breath as he deletes your comment under his post and then promptly drops the conversation.

The following week, the guys got back into town on Friday, just as Josh had thought. And he had called you, just as he said he would. What he failed to do however, was tell you that all of his brothers would be joining you when he suggested you go out.

When you walked up to the table expecting to find Josh with his beaming smile and head full of curls, only to be met with three beaming smiles and one distinct sneer, the disappointment settled deep in your belly. Rather than allow it to show, you greeted them cheerily.

“Fancy seeing all of you here! How was Florida?”

They each stand to offer you a hug, Sam giving you a friendly kiss on the cheek before dragging Danny to the bar with him to order a round. When Josh wraps his arms around you, you return the gesture and hold onto him for longer than you should. You really did miss him, but your reunion is soured by the look of displeasure on Jake’s face. Unfortunately, it’s directed at you and your eyes have found his over Josh's shoulder. You maintain the eye contact as the embrace comes to an end.

“Jacob.”

“Y/N.”

“Well look at the two of you, it’s been thirty seconds and you haven’t cursed at or spit on each other yet!” Josh truly does find your distaste for one another entertaining, it’s puzzling to him but he enjoys trying to figure it out.

“The night is still young. I need a drink.” Jake finally stands and bumps your shoulder with his as he makes his way across the room where the others are waiting at the bar.

“I can’t believe you guys have the same DNA. He’s such an asshole,” you huff out as you rub the spot on your shoulder that Jake had touched. Josh simply laughs.

Most interactions you have with Jake end with you telling one of his brothers he’s an asshole. He’s never actually touched you though, not since the handshake you shared when you first met. His body’s contact with yours leaves you feeling off-balance and irritated, and you eventually call the night early after confirming with Josh that the two of you will get together soon.

Josh turns from you when you leave his side, sips his drink and keeps talking with Sam.

Jake watches your back until you’ve left the building.

The thing about Jake that no one knows, not even his twin, is that he’s jealous. Jealous of your easy friendship, envious of the attention you’re constantly showering his brother with.

When you’d been introduced he’d been pleased to finally meet you, but the sheer amount of time you spent with Josh quickly became excessive. While the world had literally shut down, he’d watched you cling to his brother in a time where contact with other people had become so limited.

The part that bothers him is that he envies what Josh refuses to realize is there. Josh doesn’t appreciate what you have to offer, and it makes him feel like he’s not allowed to. Not allowed to indulge in your presence, not allowed to admire you. So he’s gotten to know you from a distance, overhearing phone conversations and eavesdropping when you’re in their home. Occasionally he’ll join the two of you but keeps his communication with you scarce, or nonexistent.

Which is fine. He can handle that, except he’s seen what’s going on behind your eyes every time you let them linger on Josh’s face. He can feel it radiating from you if he gets too close. Somewhere along the way, you’d developed feelings for his brother.

And he wishes they had been for him.

Therefore, he acts like he can’t stand you. In turn, he knows you hate him because of it.

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123 @milkgemini @why-ami-on-here

Please let me know if you’d like to be added ❤️

[justagirl-with-aphone]

-My Personal Support-

Use of the nickname “Princess”, pinning, mentions of breaking, lots of cursing

Pro Hero Bakugo X Personal support team leader -not proofread-

You were just happy to find a job that wanted you for your set of skills, you happily became apart of the dynamite agency’s support team. During your introduction was the first time you saw the infamous, Katsuki Bakugo. Known for his brash tongue and little patience, your coworkers warned you to stay on his good side. Working your way up, before you knew it you were promoted to being his personal support item “tailor.” At this point, you had only really seen the man a few times, seeing how he treated some of your coworkers had you worried considering no one in your position kept their job for more then a month. ‘Why me?’ You questioned miserably, at least you got a private office...

A strong knock on your new office door pulls you from your misery. “Come in” you saw curious as to who it was considering you didn’t have anything going on for another ten minutes. But of course, Bakugo showed up early, the big man entered the room with a scowl. His calculated glare looked as if he was picking you apart right then and there, looking for a reason to fire you. no, that can’t be right...Right? I mean you just got here, so what reason does he have to hate you? Greeting him with a cheery smile, which he does not return, you sit down in front of a computer, inviting him to sit across from you. “What bring you in?” you ask, needing to know what to do. The blonde gives a shrug “dunno, I was dragged here against my will by that fucking bitch.” He states boldly, slouching in his chair. “’that bitch?’ who might I ask are you referring too?” You ask, since you obviously weren’t going to get any information out of this guy. “None of your damn businesses” The blonde rolls his eyes. You stare blankly at him, trying to process how this asshole was a hero. “Dynamite, I kinda need something to work with... Has something of your’s broken or do you want something added to your costume?” The motherfucker just shrugged. You were starting to see hwy people couldn’t stand him. “Can I get ‘that Bitch’s’ name so i can contact her and ask?” His eyes squint and he smirks, this was a game to him, and you could tell. “If you were any good at your job, you would know what I needed, do your research, someone as unprepared as you doesn't deserve a job as good as this one” The man across from you continues to spit nonsense into your face. You had enough, fuck this job.“An idea sir, maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you would realize that not everything revolves around you and your problems. So how about we start over, what can I help you with?” You kept your “Cheery customer service” voice on but there was venom present in your voice. The blonde was taken a back for a moment before getting up and storming out of the room. You just knew that you were getting fired, and you cursed yourself for not keeping your mouth shut. You needed this job. But you never got the call notifying you that you were being fired. Reluctantly, you came back the next day bright and early, only to be met with him sitting in your office chair. you met eyes with the man and he got up, starting to walk over to you. “You don’t need to tell me, I’ll grad my stuff and lea-” you started rambling only to be cut off by Bakugo pinning you against the door, confused and frightened, you could only stare in terror and listen. “Lets get one thing straight, princess” He mocks, “You aren’t going anywhere, I wanna see how long that tough girl act will last. I’m gonna have fun breaking you like the rest.” Practically growling in your ear. He blows in your face leaving you stunned, while he slips out of the door, shutting it behind him... Leaving you, a mess of emotions, fear, confusion, but that doesn't explain the color growing in your cheeks...

Fist ever time writing anything like this, if you couldn’t tell, It’s probably a little cringe ToT didn’t know if I wanted to make this head cannons or a short fic

Hope you enjoyed tho :) and should I continue this story? 

[regaliasonata]

I could've sworn someone asked me for Katherine headcanon but I can't find it in the inbox sadly...

Katherine Hillard Headcanons

-Katherine's favorite passtime honestly revolves around collecting things, mainly after becoming a ranger her interest peaked on the mysteries of the world so now her curiosity is unlimited.

-Both her and Kimberly have found ways to split the pink powers via the Thunder and ninja zords of their respective colors thus putting Zordon's research on too much pink power to a rest. However they still try to keep things to a minimum.

-Because of the phoenix properties of her zord Katherine has found good usage of bringing life to plants, she doesn't mind volunteering at an orphanage and with her abilities she's able to secretly make sure none of the kids starve.

-After Zeo she's had a hatred of Artifical Intelligence and Tommy had to keep her from smashing up all the appliances in her house.

-She hates the moon.

-Pink isn't exactly her favorite color, in fact Kat was offered the position as zeo red in secret by Tommy but she declined it.

-After the Zordon Era pretty much everyone went their separate ways for a while and similar to Tommy she found herself becoming a mentor for a group of younger rangers. A team based on constellations who each had a secret archery motif, she later became a red ranger for the squad and needed to have a master morpher developed as things when on(Referencing Kyuranger, free real estate for them😎).

-Katherine and Tommy took a break around the time of Lost Galaxy and didn't get back together till around Operation Overdrive. During this time however she actually dated Hayley Zitkor and throughout that time span Kat didn't find out that Hayley and Tommy knew each other.

-she's been visited around five times by master pink. Reasons are unknown however it's getting creepy so Katherine managed to put a bunch of net traps around her house incase MP decides to pop in randomly.

-Katherine is one of the most skilled individuals when it comes to shooting guns. Not just that but she's been developing weapons for herself incase another Rita problem shows up, double tap that bitch in the head if you have to. She has to be strapped both for her safety and for her friends(Reference to @skyland2703 headcanon from a while back👍🏾)

-her favorite weapon is a crossbow like sniper rifle called Artemis and it has the power to penetrade 40 zords with one bullet. Due to her sneaking around during Forever Red and collecting pieces of Serpentera she was able to use the samples to make the perfect failsafe agaisnt drastic situations.

-Her house is laced in grid vortex bombs, if anything ever happens then she can wipe an enemy of the face of the map.

-Kat's the dude in her relationship with Tommy if you catch my drift😭

-It's not she's capable of getting revenge but more of the idea of her making you regret your decisions in a subtle way. A guy stood Billy up so Kat decided to scratch the guy's car paint and burst his tires.

-In her will when she dies she wants the team to spread her ashes in space or even find a way to bring her back for another 5 years.

-After hearing about the existence of other dimensions Katherine has a contingency plan. If things go to shit then there's other places to find a life in, heck she'd also consider the future or the RPM verse.

-Kat doesn't really talk about it but she has trouble having kids with Tommy. Heck JJ was came 7 amounts early and doctors weren't sure he'd make it so she stayed by his little bed in the hospital for weeks until he was healthy.

-She made sure to tell Tommy not to pass on any of their ranger abilities to JJ. Mainly as their own legacy should be there to influence him, pass on an opportunity for him to build his own choices if he does decide to pursue ranger activity.

-Kat was thrilled when JJ came back from school shouting about wanting to be the pink ranger after seeing a cool video on these heroes called the power rangers. Tommy was uh...well he's supportive but he just didn't want to see his kid being made fun off and tried to lean him to another color but Kat shut that down, both of them came to an agreement that he could be pink.

-She replaced her left arm and right leg with advanced robotic versions resembling regular limbs but this was because she wanted standby weapons to shift out incase of combat.

-People in the ranger community consider her a harbinger of sorts because of her battle prowess and wouldn't back down to beating someone bloody for threatening her family.

-Kat loves a lot of rock and roll music as well as things with a fast tempo.

-She's the one which a driver's license, Tommy's has been suspended after he accidentally backed into an old lady think she was a trash can for parallel parking.

-Zordon having the rangers choose Katherine, Aisha, Rocky and Adam as secondary choices weren't out of coincidence. Centuries ago he tried recruiting their ancestors and secretly kept an eye on them, however at the time humans weren't adept to the grids influence and they became prone to natural exposure and got pretty sick, this was around 10,000 years ago anyway and while Katherine doesn't have much of a grudge against him she isn't hesitant about wanting to shoot that tank.

-Kat is very bisexual, Tommy wasn't exactly her first choice relationship wise and even considered dating Kimberly or Tanya though she's chill with the dude.

-Tommy's dating life honestly confuses her, he dated Kimberly and had a thing with Jason(Frankly that didn't surprise her as she got a bit of fruity vibes from Tommy and thought he was full on gay before being alerted that he dated Kim). Then he dated Anton and had her suspicions on what Tommy was into when she found a picture of him tied up in....compromising positionsBottom. Safe to say for gatherings she has the best stories to tell.

-Her parents very much support the idea of her being a power rangers and her dad keeps asking if she has parties with other rangers....also to get zord figures and autographs from the Lightspeed Rescue team.

-After Adam's mishap with his power coin being damaged she decided to utilize what she learned from the Crane Ninjazord and Firebird Thunderzord to pursue learning things at the Wind Academy and Pai Zhua academy to hone elemental and animal spirit abilities. She gained light related powers along with the spirit of the phoenix, fitting for combat as she can obliterate enemies with swift speeds and vaporizing energy.

-She loves dating dudes that are a tad bit strange or shy, they're just adorable in her eyes. Prime example being Tommy, not sure if he should be offended or flattered by this.

-She watches My Hero Academia and has a great admiration for Bunny's persistence.

-Katherine despises barbie dolls but JJ enjoys getting them as figures for imaginary adventures so she allows for him to have them but the minute one begins moving on it's own she's going to shoot that bitch into oblivion.

-She's an expert with hair and easily takes care or Tommy's locks when needed. It's funny to tie it into a bun though the fact that it's almost waist length makes Katherine jealous.

-due to her powers she developed a way of being able to precisely chuck items and projectiles without even touching them, similar to Diego in Umbrella Academy. This is very useful as she won't need to morph if needed and could drawn weapon from a vault she keeps at home.

-After Trini's death Katherine had to oversee Billy in fear that he might shut down due to all the guilt. She knew well on the topic of the only person who truly understood you in the world was gone and even offered a place at her home incase Minh needed somewhere to stay.

-The reason why Master Pink visited her was because of Shattered Grid almost happening again. She explained to Katherine that no one remembers the event as it was a multiverse related conflict of the past so when things ended everything went back to normal, she tasked Kat will trying to keep things from ever ending up as such. This nearly happened in various ways from Billy trying to bring back Trini or Zordon, a huge Zord fight within Angel Grove, having a rogue being nearly disrupt time and space as we know it. Kind of a crazy burden to leave on someone, honestly she couldn't look at Tommy for 4 weeks upon learning about Drakkon.

-She's not the most religious person but she swears that during a trip to the dentist she was visited by an archer deity. Aisha calls her delusional for this but Kat knows what she saw.

-Stocks are a big thing for her and she even has built up a reputation at wall street. (Kat: I can buy and sell you. Stock broker: Excuse me?)

-Katherine has the falcon zord and uses it as spatial transportation. Mainly to take JJ on trips to see the stars etc, it's also a nice getaway from all the stresses of life.

-At one point in her life Katherine considered becoming a hit man against terrible people with her archery and gun skills...though she's never told anyone this. The idea of taking a life away has crossed her mind here and there, however she goes to Dana for therapy on these feelings.

-Tommy is the cook within the family, he learned how to make a bunch of meals well when he was with Jason. Plus after Katherine nearly burned down an acre of land from their house one night she wasn't allowed in the kitchen for months, she finds it funny coming from the guy who dedicated a semester of his career on trying to remake dinosaur meat from bones.

-Katherine has a sort of ranger secret service for herself that not even Tommy knows about. Laced around the place like regular civilians ready to come to her aid.

-She visited the Mystic Mother and human Zedd just to weigh out the situation between them incase anything happens.

-Considering the last headcanon Katherine wonders if the Z-Wave killed all the evil beings within the universe she wonders if any of those beings that were evil consisted of beings that Zordon considered bad, the thought of some innocent people being killed all those years ago or being brainwashed keeps her up at night.

-She is really wondering if all the stuff during the Zordon Era was truly good. Having to fight an eon long war for a floating head against a bunch of crazy beings doesn't sit right with her, in some ways good and bad are basically moral constructs and she doesn't like to judge people on the way they act. Evil rangers, good rangers, the fact about Drakkon who existed in a past existence also bugs her....sometimes she wonders if JJ will end up doing something crazy as a ranger.

-Death doesn't really scare her but if anything Katherine would like to keep her memory alive, something that JJ could possibly look over in timed when he's sad or down in life.

-Utilizing grid archives Katherine can watch other teams in different dimensions like shows. For instance super sentai and such, currently she's on Dairanger and the minute she saw those zords....(Kat: That bird looks famil-AYO WHAT THE FUCK?!)

[ghostlyhamburger]

Husband Watches Truth and Lies

they changed the opening theme?

They rerecorded the audio too. I don't know if I like it.

Wait Zoe's in the intro sequence? and Hawkmoth is using TWO miraculous?? What's with Ladybug's new outfit??

I don't know if I like it.

I do like that it's creating more visual interest in the outfit but I don't think that's how you should do it.

We're not even a minute in

Hm. So they gave the unify upgrade to the villain too. I like the outfit aaand he's phantom of the opera. He looks like more of a prick now.

Honestly I feel like the normal box is a lot more inconspicuous

so kwamis don't show up on things but we have seen evidence of their audio existing. in the kwami capture episode where Marinette put on all of them. also they can maintain sentience and awareness in the suit forms so they'd already ahve seen a lot of this stuff when she moved across the city wearing all of them.

I did not hear what Juleka said. I don't think there's any actual words in that.

I remember why I stopped watching this.

{Marinette is babbling to Luka about Adrien and husband is taking a lonnnnng drink}

What the fuck is happening here? "Marinette forgot everything and they're just" Being dicks about it?

This feels like there's an amount of time that has passed between the end of season 3 and the beginning of season 4 and none of it was covered. It clearly isn't the next day, I don't remember them dating, but also Alya didn't know so clearly they haven't been together long?

Also why is every episode with Luka so cringey?

It's like everything else with the show is so subtle and intriguing but the relationship stuff is so goddamn heavy handed. It's hard to enjoy it when it's being forced in our face. It's not even me disliking romantic stuff, some of the greatest stuff in shonen revolves around romance.

The donut of my life??

What is with this show and the stupid orange juice??

They're trying to show off their increased budget here

Bitches you are talking during a movie!

None of the things about Luka should really be flagging as he's an asshole, but so many things flag as he's an asshole!

(Luka got Mari to say "kiss me") That was actually really smooth. Props where props are due.

"I gotta keep my identity a secret more than ever!" So you shout it in the bathroom.

So there's been pretty much cartoon violence in the show so far. Season four opens up with THE BOMBING OF PARIS.

This feels more like first actual episode than first episode of a season. A lot of reestablishing who the characters are and what their relationships are.

He didn't impact the glass at the center where it would have fractured. Yes I will be that pedantic.

Plus he's not actually pressing up against it so it doesn't look like he shattered the glass

This is Mr Pigeon isn't it

(They're at Andre's) Fucking hell this episode has all the worst people.

Nino's wearing WWE shoes.

It's almost like the universe is telling Marinette not to date Luka because it keeps pushing her towards Chat Noir

God Luka's so pretentious

(Husband noticed a poster for Le Coquelicot in the background and asked me to look up what that meant and so I found out it means poppy, and the meaning of a poppy is remembrance and hope for the future) So the universe is reflecting her hope for the future here but also showing that she really can't have that with Luka?

what? THAT'S what akumatizes Luka? "I can't tell you the truth" THAT'S what breaks him?

(husband downed the rest of his drink)

What is this show? Why must it be so stupid? Why must it hurt me? No bitch is that dramatic!

So this is their way of stepping up the villain. Giving him TWO powers.

That seems like such a STUPID idea. putting the amok and the akuma into the same object? if you break one, you break both!

also dude you're literally wearing the thing that says that she cares about you, you are so fucking stupid oh my fucking god

This goes against the aloof nature they gave Luka in other episodes. so going back to the heavy handed bullshit

So he can force akumatization. (Actually I think on some level Luka gave in because he did want to know Marinette's secret) That makes more sense, plays into his duplicitous nature

Finally something more important to Luka than getting into Marinette's pants!

(Ladybug gags herself) The Totally Spies influence keeps rearing its head

So there's one thing I don't understand. In earlier episodes we've seen that Hawkmoth can force akumas to do things. Why isn't he doing that now?

Look at Tom being a good father!

Why do I recognize [Ziggy's] voice

Wow really showcasing the quick thinking abilities of Chat

Why did they make Chat more tan

Yeah putting the whole amok and akuma into the same object seems like a stupid idea. also is there a point to de-evilizing the amok when it has no sentience?

oh she doesn't say bye bye little butterfly anymore

That was a pretty good episode if you don't count the first 15 minutes

All right that's actually a really good moment for Jagged

All right so that to me says they're gonna stop with the romantic bullshit till the end of the series but I KNOW that's not the case.

and that's this episode!

Props to Jagged for actually confronting his own inadequacies and trying to do better for what he should be. Also I guess I kind of understand Luka a bit. It's not easy growing up without a father figure. It was hard enough not seeing my own often, it must be worse having NO father figure. It's probably why a lot of anime that are male centric with a lot of older male characters really hit home with me, because they could teach me paternal morals. Luka clearly didn't have that. Even though anime is more popular in France than it ever was in America.

(So what you're saying is Adrien is more well adjusted than Luka because he's a weeb.) Yes actually!

This really ties into my thoughts of Adrien and Luka being mirrors of each other, Kagami and Marinette being mirrors of each other, Adrien and Marinette being reflections, even Kagami and Luka being reflections.

Adrien and Kagami are obviously reflections with the isolation and fascination with anime and fencing but Adrien had a friend in Chloe and Kagami had no one.

I could keep going

(He is still going)

(so at the time I was pissed at Luka, because I thought it was shitty when a girl breaks up with a guy for his response to be "that's okay I'll wait"). I see it differently. So I disagree. I don't think that was their intent. I think they were trying to show Luka's emotional intent. Luka came out of the akumatization and realized he was being unfair to Marinette. He realized that with the gift and everything that she was trying to be there for him and that she just still couldn't tell him. So when she broke up with him, he understood that she was overwhelmed, and even though she didn't say she couldn't be with him right now, he understood what she meant. It just went over badly because the episode was so heavy handed at the beginning.

I don't like what they did to Juleka in basically making her mumble mouth, in previous seasons she was just shy and didn't talk much. also they changed her personality.

(TIME FOR LIES)

The weirdest thing about the series so far is they have random bits of speeding up people's dialogue to make it fit and it doesn't work.

Why didn't they start the first episode like this? We followed Marinette through the previous episode. We should've kept with that and followed Adrien through the first episode.

why is the camembert not stored in the fridge

Did Plagg just talk to him through the phone?

that's a stein of milk

those sneaky bitches

when did they give Kagami freckles?

I wish Kagami wasn't the only one who had a unique suit.

Considering Kagami hates lies, does she not use feints in fencing then? that would turn her episode point into an actual character quirk.

There could also be more characters in the fencing class that we knew besides Adrien and Kagami. it's cool that adrien wears the same thing as everyone else but it's forcing Kagami to stand out that she's wearing something different. Actually considering how controlling her mother is that may not be her choice.

The timing on this is just too weird. It made sense from the Ladybug perspective but the amount of time between things. They had a walk away from the boat and had a whole ass talk and a whole ass Hawkmoth thing and Ladybug having her transformation sequence in the time it took them to walk down the stairs

wow he really just nuked the entire Kagami/Adrien thing in this one episode

"I only ever have this much fun with you" YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND

It was bright as frickin day when they defeated Truth

See this actually makes a lot more sense because they are meant to be younger and less emotionally stable. I think it actually works really well.

Considering the fact that Hawkmoth is lying that would include him. and why didn't he give her a sentimonster?

Fang want cake

Are they actually gonna use Chloe to an effect? The most honest, brutally honest bitch?

FANG WANT CAKE

Fang the best

is her orb getting bigger?

Actually that was just a really good episode. the only things that don't work are the parts that conflict with the previous.

Yeah this episode hurts

Why did they give Ladybug such an ass

[shame-is-a-wasted-emotion]

For the new ask game for writers:

6, 18, 24, 39, 42, 50

🫶🏻

Oh lovely Aurora! Thank you for so many asks.

6. Favorite character you ever created.

Hmm.. I revolve around glee characters Much. Let's see.

I have this character called Jenna in my WIP "What happens in Alaska?" She confronts a gossip couple, who were bitching so much about Kurt. I think she was nice to write.

18. What’s your revision or rewriting process like?

None actually. I write. I glance again to see if I should correct something,then post. If I needed a beta,I go for it. Not much of revisions

24. Poetry or prose, and why?

I write both actually. But writing prose Is less stressful. I will break my head over writing a poem. It needs more time,effort and creativity which I don't have.

39.Do you base your characters of real people or not? If so, tell us about one.

Not much. I just write what I want to say to people. A few times,I put Kurt in my situations and Blaine is my imaginary comfort character

42. How do you figure out your characters looks, personality, etc.

Well I don't. It's all set you know. Maybe if I write an original book,I'll tell you.

50.Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.

I think every one of my story ideas are weird. I want to write a cadaver story. Like a spouse is dead and her/his body is donated to a medschool. Another spouse decides to study for pre med/med to find the spouse is embalmed and his study device that is a cadaver. Scary isn't it?

Thank you for asking ,@fallevs . I loved answering

[theshippirate22]

guess what-

new idea time

so one day nancy wheeler wakes up and what the actual fuck she’s in the Byers house and Jonathan is there, and there’s christmas lights on the wall and bear traps on the floor and she’s got a revolver in her hand and steve is banging on the door outside, begging her to let him in, hear him out and

holy shit. she’s in 1983.

and nancy isn’t going to waste time, because this a moment for action, whether it’s real or not and she’s not going to panic, so she lets steve in and she tells him to leave, and she can hear the desperation in her voice. Please, save yourself… You have no idea yet…. let me save you…

But Jonathan is calling her attention away because the lights are flickering and Steve looks scared and now is not the time

So he stays, because steve does, always, and she lets him because she knows he’s ultimately the one that protects them that night

The next few weeks, things go exactly like they did in ‘83, except for now and then she’ll ask steve or jonathan or her mother or even mike “what year is it?” or “do you know me?” or “tell me something only you would know.”

and within a month she establishes that, yeah, this is 1983. these people know too much, are too real to be Vecna visions. it’s real.

if she’d gotten her way, she would’ve been sent back before barb died, she would’ve saved her and hid her from this, but it’s too late now, so she does everything else she can to save anyone else.

she doesn’t get drunk at the halloween party the next year. keeps the bullshits to herself and tells steve that night in the bathroom that she wants to break up, but it’s not his fault, really it’s not, and she’s overwhelmed by the monsters and barb and life changing around her. he still cries and this time, he asks her if he’s unloveable, which somehow hurts worse than his pathetic “you don’t love me?” but this time, she’s mature enough to reassure him that he’s perfect. none of this is his fault. he’s not unloveable. she didn’t know that at the time; now she does. and she knows he’ll be better if she tells him.

it still breaks his heart, she knows that, but this time it won’t haunt him for so long.

okay enough seriousness though because honestly what i actually want to happen is for her to bring all her category 5 batshit crazy unhinged-ness with her aight

like, she orchestrates it so she’s there with steve and the kids that night billy comes for lucas and the second he threatens violence and steve starts cracking his knuckles and preparing for a fight she just like. shoots him in the foot and steps over him. like “come on we have work to do.” and everyone is just staring at her and billy is literally writhing in pain on the floor, whining, and she’s like “hey, we’re kind of in a time crunch here, let’s go please”

and later steve is like “hey that was cool. racist son of a bitch deserved it”

and she’s just like “oh. is he racist? i guess i don’t have to feel at all bad about shooting him then.”

and steve is. “wh… why did you shoot him if you missed the fact that he was a horrible person?”

“he was standing in the doorway and i wanted to get through”

like she is taking no shit from anybody, her solution is guns and friendship every single time, she keeps accidentally asking robin to hand her something or come with her and everyone is like?? actually we don’t know a single robin??? and nancy is like. you guys don’t understand. the whole point of me being the weapon badass is to impress robin what am i even supposed to do here

[charlxttelabouff]

Task Eleven → Intro & Connections

charlotte la bouff

Character Information*

The Basics*

FULL NAME: charlotte la bouff

NICKNAME: lottie

GENDER: female

PRONOUNS: she/her

AGE: twenty-six

OCCUPATION: socialite/influencer

FACECLAIM: madelyn cline

ORIENTATION: straight

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single​

The Personality*

+ Kind-Hearted, Excitable, Flirty - Ditzy, Spoiled, Hyperactive

if you look up the terms ‘child born with a silver spoon in her mouth’, a picture of Charlotte La Bouff would pop up. From the very moment the girl was born, the world revolved around her – according to her dad, and who was she to question that? Her father a wealthy businessman, Charlotte was given everything her heart desired and more. She never had to lift a finger, and she had people catering to her every whim. Living the high life had never been more luxurious.

Charlotte met Tiana, her best friend and dearest confidant, through their dads – Tiana’s dad an employee of her own dad. The two were joined at the hip, so much so that Charlotte all but demanded to go to the local high school alongside Tiana rather than being shipped off to a fancy private school. 

Her father relinquished and enrolled her in the high school. It had been a blessing because since then Charlotte grew as a person and learned that her family was in fact far better off financially than others. She learned an appreciation for the life she’s been granted, and also educated herself about her privilege. Since then, Charlotte has made a point of donating to causes and taking part in countless charity events. Her influencer status comes in handy since she can take advantage of her platform to give smaller voices a big microphone.Her father has tried on countless occasions to train Charlotte for her to finally take over the family business one day, but what kind of teenage girl wants to focus on taxes over texting? None. That’s who. It took her to her early twenties to accept the fact that this would be her future and her family legacy. She’s since started paying attention to her dad’s life and career lessons. Turns out the man knows something.

Additional Notes*

throws lavish parties - normally invite only but the recent new year bash was open to the whole town

her father works 24/7, she’s alone all the time at the la bouff estate a part from the staff members the family hire 

always wears pink - it’s always incorporated in to an outfit

Wanted Connections*

friends

neighbours

fellow socialites

rich kids of redwood hollow™️ - the elite of the elite

other influencers

ex’s

her fathers business associates

college friends

Wanted Plots / Plot Ideas*

rich & poor - they’re both from two different worlds but somehow manage to strike up a friendship

advantage - someone tries to take advantage of charlottes kindness to get to her money

employee - an employee of the la bouff household but charlotte treats them more like a friend 

rich kids of redwood hollow™️ - i love these elite bitches & want more debauchery with them

Taken Connections*

idek what to identify these two as - @hans-omedevil

bestie - @penelopedeery & tiana

close circle - @but-theylovehim @ashley-armbruster @ashleybxulet @ashley-quinlan @itsashleytomassian @hans-omedevil​ @henrikhera​ @notasweetnightingale

dad’s business associates - @haydenbodaway​

Other*

One character from the open tag you would like to see taken / added to the Most Wanted page -  from the most wanted page - louis wooley & from the open tag to be added to the most wanted page - tianaaaaaa

One Character you want to see a bio for in relation to this specific character - maybe charlottes dad? 

[sinkat-arts]

Setting Sun

View on AO3 >

Daisuga

Angst, written for a self-sacrifice prompt from the HQ Angst Week twitter.

CW: Major character death, blood, gun violence

--

It was a goddamn bitch of a situation. 

“Don’t you dare…” came the hissed command from Daichi’s side. For good measure, Suga elbowed him in the side - a typical expression of his love language, but right now it was more desperation than affection. “Wait for the cops. They have to be coming…”

“Suga, I am the cops,” Daichi replied under his breath. So far, they’d been able to mask their presence from the armed robber by crouching behind a display of snacks. Ten minutes ago, they were arguing over the superior choice of Dorito - Suga had gone all in on some lime and chili flavored horrorshow - and now… well, Daichi’s concerns had expanded beyond caving in to his husband’s tenacious snacktime debate techniques. He was officially concerned, and years of police training were taking over. 

“When you’re off duty, you are not. We talked about this…” 

Daichi fixed Suga with a pained look. They had talked about it - they’d argued about it, actually. Over and over again, Daichi’s need to protect everyone rubbed the wrong way against Suga’s need to feel safe that his husband would, in fact, come home from work every night.  

You’re never off duty, even when you are. 

I have a responsibility to the community… 

You have a responsibility to me, too, damn it. 

I know that - you’re always first to me. 

You have NO idea what it’s like to just sit at home and wonder. Is he just running late? Is his phone dead? Is HE? 

Come on, that’s not… I’m careful, I promise.  

I love you. Believe me, I’m so proud that you’re out there protecting everyone from the bad guys, but If anything ever happened to you…

It won’t….

Suga looked so desperate then, eyes gleaming and brows creased. Daichi’s easy-going, goofy, somewhat chaotic husband… his sunshine smile had been replaced by a twisting, trembling frown, like his whole world was moments away from crumbling. It had broken Daichi’s heart to know his husband was spending his days worried like this, and he’d gathered Suga up in his arms and promised to be better. 

But that was absent the presence of an armed man actively threatening lives. Daichi shook his head to clear those remnants of memory and held a finger to his lips. 

“Shhh,” Daichi hushed, “I’m just going to see what the situation is.” He pretended not to see the silent plea in Suga’s eyes as he turned away and slid his head around the edge of the display. From where he was crouched, he couldn’t see the whole scene, but he was able to tell that someone in a dark baseball cap and face mask was pointing a low-caliber pistol at the clerk. 

Gender currently undeterminable, likely male. Roughly 175 cm, slender build. Medium-length brown hair. Black cap, black mask, gray Adidas hoodie, jeans, red converse sneakers. Looks like a .22 revolving pocket pistol.

He’s scared. Look at his hands.   

Daichi decided on a course of action and turned back to face Suga. 

“I’m going to try to defuse this,” he said, letting his eyes slide away from Suga’s face. It was his duty to make sure everyone in the store made it out alive, but it was going to hurt the one person he never wanted to hurt. 

“You. are. unarmed.” Suga answered, “You don’t have your vest. What the hell are you going to do?” 

“I think the guy’s scared. His hands are shaking… this isn’t a hardened criminal. Probably just some poor, desperate kid. Maybe I can stop him before he really messes his life up.”

“I don’t care.” 

“I have to,” Daichi said, “If he spooks, we could be looking at bodies.”

“So long as none of them are yours,” Suga snapped back, and the ferocity in his eyes overwhelmed Daichi for a heartbeat. It was easy to forget that Suga was a tiger underneath his jokes and laughter. And Daichi had just cornered that tiger. “Ok, that sounded bad, but just… wait. Please?”

Daichi looked back to see the gunman start waving the little pistol. He was shouting and the clerk was shouting back. Apparently, the man behind the counter had decided to fight back or stall rather than just forking over the cash. Stupid. A little gun is still a gun, idiot. The change in the register isn’t worth your damn life. 

“That guy’s gonna get himself shot. I have to,” Daichi said, grabbing both of Suga’s shoulders and looking him in the eyes. He tried to pour all of his confidence and love into that one look. “I’ll be fine. I’m a pro, remember?” He smiled in an attempt at reassurance and kissed Suga’s forehead. “This’ll be a hell of a story to tell in the teacher’s workroom on Monday.”

With that, he snuck around behind the display, moving swiftly into the cover of the adjacent aisle. He worked his way down that aisle and back up another until he was feet from the gunman. Daichi was in the open now - if the guy turned around they’d be face to face. If his luck held, though, the gunman’s attention would remain fixed on the stubborn store clerk and… 

“Dude, don’t be a hero,” someone said, and Daichi’s eyes darted to find the source. Some stranger, tucked in the little alcove created by the counter. A blind spot, in other words, from where Daichi had made his initial assessment to move. 

Fuck - a lookout. I missed him. Shit. Shit shit shit. 

The goddamn bitch of a situation had just gone nuclear. 

At once, the gunman swung around to face Daichi as Daichi raised his hands in surrender. He hunched over, trying to make himself seem smaller and less threatening. He breathed in and out slowly, keeping the panic contained. Boxed up, just like he’d trained. Fear of looking down the barrel of a gun wouldn’t consume him. He wouldn’t do anything stupid because he was scared. Even when he saw the man pull the hammer back with one thumb, he didn’t lose his cool. Until the trigger was pulled, there were options. 

His head was clear. In fact, it seemed like everything had slowed down, everything outlined in fine, stark detail. Daichi could see everything. He could see now that the gunman was male. Blue eyes. Definitely young, and definitely more scared than Daichi was. The mask on his face was puffing out and pulling in with each shallow breath. The hand holding the gun was shaking. The kid was pointing the gun, but not aiming it. His brows were knit and pulled not in anger, but in fear. The lookout was shouting something. The kid was shouting something. 

And then there was something between them, blocking his view. There was a whiff of familiar aftershave and a cloud of silver hair - like stormclouds, and his smile is the sunshine that breaks through them - and then a sound like a thunderclap. But it wasn’t thunder. 

It wasn’t thunder. 

“FUCK, MAN!” someone shouted. The lookout. 

“HE CAME OUTTA NOWHERE!” The gunman. “I wasn’t gonna… I didn’t… FUCK. WE GOTTA GO.” 

Daichi stood, transfixed. Frozen. A fear he couldn’t box up released itself, sending ice through his nervous system. 

Look. Look damn you, look. It’s not him. It can’t be… he wouldn’t…

He looked. 

All his training, all that experience, his sense of duty… it had hardened him to the risks to himself. Whatever happened to him in the line of duty was fine, but… he’d never trained for this. He’d never learned to suppress his fear, his emotions, when the thing in danger was his heart - his true heart, not the muscle thumping against his ribs, but the place where he found purpose and home and love. 

He looked, heaven help him, he looked and saw red-stained silver clouds. His whole heart. His whole life. Since they were kids, since before either of their voices cracked, since they had curfews and homework and practice, since sneaking out and thinking they were so slick and no one knew but everyone knew. Since before they knew what love was, really, but still fell into it headlong and with the abandon of a couple of naive teenagers. Since they confessed their feelings, finally, on that hill in Karasuno while the sun set. All of that, all those smiles and laughs, the tears, the struggles and the wins, their whole life together. All of that was lying in front of him now, gasping for air and reaching for him with curled, red fingers. 

“I’m calling 119!” Someone yelled. 

“Where the fuck are the cops?” Another yelled.

MOVE, Daichi’s mind screamed. 

And for a wonder, he did. Ice melted, and he was on his knees, hands peeling back layers of clothes to see… maybe it wasn’t as bad as it looked… maybe he’d be ok… there was a lot of blood, but if he could just stop it… if he could just… 

There. There’s the wound. Just… gotta put pressure on it.Just gotta hold out for a little while. It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad. 

“Hey,” a voice - his voice - said. It was so small, so weak, but it still managed to knock the wind out of Daichi. “Hey, look at me.” 

He did. And there was that smile. Sunlight through storm clouds, but it was all wrong because the rain was red. Even so, it was still him. Still his smile. The corners of his eyes crinkled. 

“I guess I should have,” he started, but was interrupted by a cough. More blood, god there was so much now. “I guess I should have left it to the professional?” 

“Just… hold on, ok? Help’s coming… it’s gonna be… it’s gonna be ok.” 

“No, it won’t,” Suga said, still grinning like he’d just pulled a prank that went over poorly, “That was dumb… I just panicked… I don’t know how you do it every day…”

“I don’t do this every day,” Daichi answered, “And it was very dumb. Now hush, ok? Just… save your strength…” 

“Don’t you hush me, Sawamura Daichi,” Suga commanded, but it was so, so quiet. “This might be my last chance to…”

“Stop, it’s not your last anything…”

“Let me talk,” Suga said, and swatted at Daichi’s arm, “You’ll be ok. Remember to… remember to eat, you forget sometimes. And stop with the hero bullshit. Just be you, ok? You’re good enough as you are. You’ve always been good enough. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, alright?” 

“Ok, ok,” Daichi said, still pressing on that gunshot wound even though it was a losing battle. Still failing to protect. He wasn’t good enough, and after this… he never would be. 

“I mean it… you’re gonna hurt if this breaks bad, but don’t get swallowed by it. And remember…”

Oh god, he was fading away. The sunlight was going dim. Receding, setting, all in front of Daichi’s eyes. And still… still Suga smiled. 

“Remember that I love you. Always. Into forever. You’ve always been the captain of my heart,” Suga said, and laughed weakly at their stupid inside joke. “Smile for me, please? I want… I want that to be the last thing I see.” 

And though it hurt, though it took everything in him to do it, though there were tears cascading around it, Daichi smiled. For him, he could do this.

“And you set mine on fire,” he answered, the appropriate response when Suga resurrected that gem. Just a couple of 17-year-olds with stars in their eyes and poor taste in puns and valentine’s cards… who knew it would end like this.  "Suga, fuck... don't... you can't go. You're my..." He paused, mind desperately searching for a word that could possibly contain everything that Suga was for him. There wasn't one. There never would be a word that big. "I love you. Please. Please...."

Suga chuckled as his hand fell from his chest to the ground and his head fell back. His eyes closed, and he sighed. “Don’t be sad… we’ll… we’ll get them in the spring tournament… we can… we’ll fly.” 

And as the sound of sirens dominated the air, Daichi knelt beside his one great love, his partner, his soul… and watched the sun set. 

[mrstsung]

Ask game time!

Original post:

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who’s your main(s)? (character you play as most often): in most mk games i play shang tsung,kung lao,scorpion,or raiden. The rest i can wing it with but those i can get down quicker than the others on the roster.

who’s your favorite character(s)?: shang tsung(big fat duuuuh!) Kung lao(my first videogame crush,so him baby),scorpion(hanzo hasashi is the only scorpion i will die on that hill). Those 3 are my top 3 faves.

what character do you think is underrated?: honestly,shinnok. I don't understand why he isn't utilized more and better. It's honestly sad and a waste of potential. Although i can say this for a majority of characters especially the "villains" or bosses. It's honestly a crime. A close 2nd is maybe onaga. Like god damn man he could have been so fucking cool.

what character do you think is overrated?: dont hate me but. Liu kang. Specifically fire god liu kang. Like don't get me wrong i love liu just tye very specific one i have in my head. Like i feel the story revolved too much around him. It was worse than johnny cage and the bladedashians and special forces trying to take center stage. And that was awful. But sadly,how they did liu kang was worse because they could have wrote it better. In fact it felt like it was leaning into liu becoming what he hated and we could have had shang tsung,lao and raiden teaming up to stop liu. Liu realized what he has done and then stop the bigger bad and exile and atone for what he's done? I mean holy shit man talk about waste of potential.

character you hate having to fight against?: ok you mean in game or as if i was actually in mortal kombat? Well. Gamewise,i still get scared fighting shao kahn,even if he isn't at his best. It's still scary. Look childhood gamer trauma rage is a bitch. (Looking at you mk:sm/mortal kombat shaolin monks for the ps2!) But one I'd be scared to fight irl would be a bit of everyone but shang tsung. Oh not because he could kick my ass,that's a given. But the fact that soul snatching sexy sob would know i like him...a lot. And that magic is scary af man come on. He can shapeshift,shoot flaming skulls,suck my...soul. with 500+yrs of martial arts experience. Wtaf,how could you not piss your pants in terror?! But anyways. Shao kahn overall tho. (Fucking bastard owes me still)

how did you get into the series?: mortal kombat shaolin monks for the ps2. But shortly after that i started to play the og arcades more. Mk2 to be specific. Then i saw the mk 95 movie. Good shit,even to this day. Mk could learn a thing or two about its roots but that would require nrs to give a fuck.

what was the first entry you played?: see above.

favorite entry in the series?: mk shaolin monks. Mk2. Somewhat of deadly alliance. Maybe 3 or 4 but im very picky with it. As much shit as i gave mk11,I'd rather take it than mk12/mk1(2023) fr. The only good thing about it is shang tsungs voice actor,and even then i just am sad how they've done things. Not even for blorbo is it worth the money or investment.

favorite entry-specific (re)design, if you have one?: honestly i prefer mk11 aesthetic wise minus a few personal nitpicks. But overall visually it's beautiful. So yeah. Mk12/mk1(2023) all it has is aesthetics and none of the spirit of mk. Honestly it feels like one big joke or excuse to do a movie cheaply as possible. I dont know man,i just am sad about mortal kombats current state. If you were an old fan like myself,you'd understand. Im not saying some things aren't interesting ideas,i just feel the execution of said ideas have been piss poor and some things honestly should have stayed in drafts. I feel they are trying too hard rn to be "relevant" and not give out a good story. Or just reinventing their own lore....AGAIN. and it's annoying at this point. So much many people are making their own lore and shit because canon lore sucks. The world Building in mk has never been solid and thats it all weakest point imho.

favorite canon ship?: i only do self shipping. I dont care for canon ships. Or canon x canon ships.

favorite non canon ship?: same thing as above.

if you could pick a guest character, who would you pick? (can be as detailed as you want here): duke nukum. It's about fucking time. But they'd butcher him now. So im not sure.

if you could pick a character from any of the earlier entries to bring back, who would you choose?: honestly they need to get their story right before adding any characters to the roster otherwise to me its lip service. But I'd love bo rai cho to return. Plz. For the love of elder gods,can i have funny drunken master back?!

which do you prefer doing first/more: completing the story mode or completing towers?: honestly if local play/ vs mode is shit. Towers and storymode mean nothing. If you can't 1v1 your friends in the same room. I dont want it. But I'd play towers above storymode. I'd love storymode more. If the story was actually good or consistent or konsistent in this case ;) . But fr in all seriousness,nrs NEEDS to get their head in the game anf out or corporate ass,if they wanna see this not blow up in their face once hype dies down and people move on to something else. Which it will happen. And is happening.

favorite fatality?: honestly i fucking love shang tsung soul swapping inside the opponent and exploding/killing them from the inside. Fucking simple but badass af. Like fr imagine seeing that shit irl,terrifying. Which is what we need. It's so extra. But it fits. Other than that. There isn't many fatalities i dont like. Cept mk11 johnny cage but thats because it goes on too damn long. We get it johnny!

favorite stage?: honestly shang's throne room,warrior shrine,the deadpool,and visually? Shirai-Ryu fire gardens. Absolutely stunning.

favorite stage theme / ost?: all of mk(original),mk2,and mk shaolin monks tracks are the best. Mk shaolin monks for atmospheric ambiance. The og arcades the first mk and mk2 for absolute bops. Tho deadly alliance has good dance and tencho edm vibes. Tho everyone can kollectively agree that the og theme is the best. Come on man!

opinion on any of the non-game media? (the live action films, mk legacy, the animated mk legends films, etc): ok mk95. Still is the goat for a reason. Mk legends films are good visual and animation wise but story is too fast paced for my taste. And can be better but still ironically,better than the current games storywise. I hate to say it but yeah. Honestly they haven't made and non game media for me that really speaks to me yet. But if they do. I'll let ya know.

skin / kosmetic you want to be in mk1?: dont care for mk12/mk1. But if they could bring back mk9 shang red robe jammies for shang that would be appreciated. Give me that much plz.

do you prefer hanzo hasashi or kuai liang as scorpion?: if you say anything else but hanzo hasashi you need to log off and not talk to me ever again. Hanzo hasashi IS SCORPION. anyone says otherwise is not a mk fan. Period. I will fight you!

which character reveal for mk1 shocked you the most?: like i said. I do not care for the new game. It's more pissing me off that shang tsung who has been a staple for mk is reduced to dlc. Twice. And you can't even get him rn in the new game less you got money or pre order codes or some shit. And that's why i feel that the new game is shit. Because you shouldn't have to pay money for a half baked game. For a character you should have already had. Especially if they are a main focus in the storymode. So yeah. Nothing shocks me.

have you ever cosplayed an mk character? if you haven’t, would you want to, and who would you choose?: i have. I have done 95 shang tsung. And am going to do a genderbent fem hanzo hasashi scorpion (THE ONLY SCORPION IS HANZO I WILL STILL STATE THIS. ONCE AGAIN!) soon. So stay tuned. Future cosplays I'd love to do is fujin,kung lao,kitana,and a genderbent Johnny cage (jenny cage?)

do you have any cool merch? (figures, posters, shirts, etc): got some cool shirts and a few cosplays and little stuff like that. Pendents. But i wanna get some figures but holy shit dudes it's expensive. Oof. But some day. Some day. I will obtain that scorpion figure. Some day. Wish they had shang tsung merch more. Ugh.

[dearunknownyeoja]

No headed direction: Just unshared feelings

Bitch face. That’s what I have. Since my elementary years, my peers would tell me that their first impression of me is someone with a bad temperament. I am well aware I have my dark side who doesn’t right? But one thing that’s good about me is I have self-awareness. I know when I’m acting crazy, and I know when I’m not. I have an idea of who I really am or so I thought.

           When I was young, I had to move places frequently. I had to live with my grandmothers—father’s and mother’s side alternatively. Back then, my thinking was I have to act according to what makes everyone happy. I helped out with chores, studied very hard and I did well in school. My life almost revolves around school and house chores. I have no idea how to have fun. I thought if I do well in school that’s it.

           Years passed, and as I kept moving and changing schools, I met different kinds of people. Different kinds of friends. From IDGAF type of people to grade-conscious ones. One common denominator, all of them are seasonal. Although I’ve been true to my friends none of them remembered me after our semester together. I felt left out. I feel forgotten. As someone who is so sure of herself, I was confused. Was it me? Did I make them feel uncomfortable when we were still hanging out? Lots of questions are running in my mind and I don’t know where to look for answers.

           A part of me believed I was not the best friend to have and another part of me believed I did my best to be one. As I grew more mature, the lonelier I got. Negativity starts creeping into me more intensely. From someone who believes she can do anything with hard work, I became someone who doubts every little thing she does.

[howaboutcastiel]

Make Your Acquaintance VIII

Summary: None.  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Previous Chapter. Masterlist.  

Content: Angst, Smut, Fluff-ish (The Holy Trinity) Smut is as gender neutral as I knew how to make it. !!Gore and Violence at the beginning, more extreme than typical MCU violence!! Smut is pretty tame I think, alludes to rough sex and angry sex. 

Word Count: 5.4k

Author’s Note: The smut may have been a bit overhyped, but I wanted the focus to be on the emotions at play more than the physical experience. You can fight me if you want, but you can’t sue me cuz you bitches are getting this for free. Again, not proofread.

Just like that, he was gone. 

One moment, Marc was standing right in front of you with his hands resting atop his head and a pistol pressing into the small of his back, forcing him to stand up straight. The next moment, he had disappeared, effectively shocking the men and their guards into indecision for a critical split second. They looked around for him, dumbfounded, and allowed their fingers to loosen ever-so-slightly on the triggers of their guns. It was more than enough. 

You heard Arnold grunt in surprise as the sound of metal on metal rang around his discontent. His gun clattered to the ground with a silver crescent-shaped blade dancing behind it on the pavement. He clutched his hand in pain. 

Thinking fast, you reached out in front of you to grab the loaded revolver as the clambering ahead of you indicated Marc was dealing with at least some of your armed assailants. You fitted the gun into your grasp and pointed it at Dubois. Expecting him to at least be taken aback, he all but laughed while you planted your feet and aimed for his chest. 

“And what are you gonna do with that, sweetheart?” He teased you and your stomach churned at the flash of his teeth. “You gonna shoot me? I don’t think you have it in you.”

Maybe he was right. He should have been right. With how much you had been riding the moral high ground with Jake and Marc about how ruthlessly they succumbed to violence, you should have been much too averse to the idea of pulling the trigger. Death and blood and gore were none of your favorite things, but you had to admit that not much of anything was holding back your finger as it rested on the still-warm strip of metal. 

“It’s unfortunate, really. I would have really liked for you to come up to my hotel room. So much of my life has been business recently, it would be nice to distract myself with a young, beautiful piece of ass like yourself.”

His skin wrinkled around his eyes and, though they were squinted half-shut in his slimy grin, you could see how dull they were. How utterly empty they were. The longer they made contact with your own, the more the warmth and hope slowly crept out from your body. 

You squeezed. 

Admittedly, you weren’t the very best shot in the world, so you really shouldn’t have been surprised when the bullet made contact with his skin at the base of his throat, much higher than you were aiming. Blood didn’t spew and chunks of meat didn’t fly like they do in the movies. The wound was clean, small and round and only trickling red, and Arnold sputtered before falling backward. He was flat on the pavement, eyes wide, and choking on the hole in his neck perpendicular to the one that was supposed to be there. 

Oh my God, you thought, but there wasn’t time to process anything. Marc was still struggling with the men fighting him and, as you turned to help him, you could see that Mogart was nowhere to be found, having evidently run from the scene. You checked your revolver and were pleased—if pleased could remotely be the right word—to count three bullets remaining. 

You used the blunt base of the gun to disarm the man closest to you, ramming it into his temple and using your opposite arm to pull him away from Marc. You knew that your boyfriend would be fine—physically, he was at a low risk of sustaining any serious harm—if only you could make quick work of the remaining private security that had disregarded Anton’s warning. 

It took perhaps forty-five seconds at most to finish them off. Luckily, it seemed that only Arnold would be staying down permanently. 

“Honey?” Marc’s voice was small, in disbelief. His mask covered his face, but you could tell that his eyes were trained on the clean entry wound in the old man’s throat. He had stopped gurgling. “Did you do that?”

“Yes.” The word spilled from your mouth without ever passing through your brain first. Now that the fight was over, you were left to contend with what had happened. I shot him. I killed him. 

His body was motionless, eyes wide and glossed as blood trickled down his collar and spattered his face where he had coughed it up. He wasn’t smiling anymore. 

You had watched a million times before as Marc apprehended the worst of the worst offenders. You had seen the light drain from their eyes as a direct result of his actions. You’d seen the aftermath of Jake, ruthless and with no forethought, having slit open a pair of throats with a shard of glass from a broken window. Hell, you’d even been there—only once, on a night you never again spoke about—when Steven Grant had reached his breaking point and put an especially vile son of a bitch out of his misery. 

But you had never done this. 

Some cold and stinging feeling paralyzed you as the urge to vomit grew in your gut. You weren’t too sure that your legs even existed still and it was becoming hard to focus your eyes on anything in particular. In the back of your mind, you felt a pair of sturdy arms wrap around your frame, picking up more than their fair share of your weight. Marc dragged you away from the crime scene, not saying a word. 

What did I just do? What did I just do what did I just do what did I do—Oh my God. Oh my God! I killed him. I can’t believe it. I killed him. I didn’t know I could do that. I killed him. He’s dead. I shot him. 

Your whole body was numb, except for the drumming of your heart that was so loud and so strong and so fast that you feared it might explode out of your chest altogether. The rest of you could have been there, or halfway across the globe. You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. The streetlights were too bright and the night was too dim and there was nothing you could ground yourself with. 

You didn’t know how long it had been when you finally regained your ability to think in the present. You planted your feet and signaled to Marc that you would be able to carry yourself the rest of the way. You could feel them now, at least. 

“Hey,” he spoke softly, but sternly. Marc was studying your face for any sign of the thoughts in your brain. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t.” He couldn’t help you with this. As much as you loved him, as much as you believed in him, Marc was an experienced killer. Nothing he could say right now could comfort you. Nothing he could think of you now would be any consolation for what you were thinking about yourself. Shame. Guilt. Fear. Horror. More guilt and more nausea as well. 

“I have a hotel room,” he explained as you avoided his gaze, “We should go there.”

“What about the duffel?” Your brain was buzzing and foggy, but it darted back to the image of your possessions, stuffed into the storage closet at a dive bar outside of the business center. Your suit was in there, as was the pistol that you’d bought upon your arrival. Your passport was also there. 

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll get it for you, but we’re going to the hotel first. You need rest.” He tried his best to hide the pitiful expression on his face—the one that saw you as a wounded animal ready to snap or lay down and cry—but you weren’t stupid. Tired, maybe. In shock, most certainly. 

Not stupid. 

“You need it more. The body hasn’t slept in days.” 

“The suit helps with sleep deprivation,” he lied. He knew that you knew better than that, but it was an effective way to keep you from arguing with him. There was no energy to fight with Marc right now. 

“I missed you.” You hummed, monotone. “Started to think that you weren’t coming back.”

The rest of the walk to the hotel was silent. It didn’t at all help your spiraling thoughts and it sure as hell didn’t help the shock. By the time you made it through the entrance of the lobby, you were shivering and dizzy and unable to keep your eyes all the way open. 

“Long night?” The receptionist teased. From her perspective, you must look drunk out of your mind, stumbling and stubbornly refusing to hold onto Marc as your vision oscillated in and out of focus. Just the thought of alcohol on your tongue brought another wave of sickness. 

“We’ll be okay,” Marc assured her. He placed his hand on the small of your back and, by this time, you were too weak and sick and out of it to brush him off. You let him support some of your weight as you got onto the elevator. The numbness was slowly being replaced by something else entirely. 

You let yourself lean into his hold as the lift took you up to who knows what floor. The dings of the elevator passing each story rang sharply in your ears. You were dangerously close to passing out, or perhaps spilling your dinner all over the tile flooring. 

“You’ll be okay,” Marc repeated in a whisper. His face was unreadable, stoic and flat, and he brought his other hand up to wipe the sweat from your neck. “You need to sleep.”

“I don’t think I can.”

The doors opened and he pressed you gently forward. You followed his guiding hand to the room that his alter had reserved sometime along his journey. For a moment, your mind flashed backward to Jake Lockley guiding you through the hotel hallway in Budapest. His hand had been on the very same spot on your back. 

“Just try, alright?” The hotel room was extravagant. Not nearly the same as the shitty ones you normally stayed in. It made perfect sense—tourism wasn’t exactly a big attraction in Madripoor, so most of the lodging was suited for wealthy criminals or business executives that benefit from burying their heads in the sand. 

He laid you down on the bed, covering you in the silk sheets and helping you out of your clothes. Your eyes skimmed over the scrapes on your hands and your knees, though you barely felt them. You didn’t want to dirty the sheets with your blood. 

“I’ll be back soon, okay? Just try to sleep. Your body needs rest and warmth.”

“You’re leaving?” Your heart stuttered again. He looked down at you regretfully as he began to re-summon his suit. 

“I’m going to get your bag. I’ll be gone five minutes, tops. I’ll be back before you even have time to notice I’m gone, okay? I need you to shut your eyes and try to sleep.” 

You nodded, resigned to the growing weakness in your limbs and the heaviness of your eyelids. Your heart was finally giving up its battle against your rib cage, the rhythm slowing gradually as you sank further into the silk covers. 

Shuffling noises danced in your ears for a moment or two and then there was silence. Naturally, the last image you saw was that of Arnold Dubois, blood pooling around his teeth as his debauched smile contorted into short-lived terror. 

~~

You were upright in the bed before you even realized you were awake. Sweat covered your body, the salt stinging your wounds as you gasped wildly for breath. Marc stirred quickly at your movement. 

“Honey?” 

You didn’t respond or even turn to look at him. The dirt and sweat and blood and everything else on your body was digging into you too much for you to sit atop the bed another miserable second. You sprang up from the bed, shedding your underwear as you headed for the much too fancy bathroom. The shower head hissed to life as you turned the knob nearly as hot as it would go. 

Stepping under the water flow, you tensed as the liquid first made contact with your skin. Your body wanted to relax into it, to let the pain and the guilt and the shock and the disbelief wash away with soap and water, but your mind would not allow your muscles to un-spring. You watched distantly as tinged-red water trickled down the drain, gradually turning clear. 

This shouldn’t be that big of a deal. He was going to have to die anyway, right? If not by my hand, then by Jake’s or Marc’s. What difference does it make that I was the one holding the gun?

You forced the justifications into your mind, but each one of them knocked the wind out of you, as if your soul was taking damage each time you attempted to calm yourself down. 

He was a really bad man. A really, really bad man. He was going to shoot me. Hell, he’d already killed so many people before. I probably saved lives in the grand scheme of things. 

There was no convincing you. You knew the reality of your actions. The weight was already starting to sink into your shoulders, the coil already binding around your heart and lungs and stomach. You would never be able to undo this. You felt almost like you were no longer whole. 

A steady, warning shuffling broke you away from your thoughts. Marc signaled deliberately that he was entering the room, careful not to startle you.

“Do you mind if I join?” He asked gently. It wasn’t often that Marc treated you with such sensitivity, but these were obviously special circumstances. 

“Okay,” you breathed. The voice sounded like it came from thin air, not from your own mouth. He pulled the curtain back only enough to slip in behind you, trying not to let a surge of cold air in with him. He let out a low hum as the scorching water touched his skin. 

Marc lathered the tiny complimentary soap bar in his hand. It smelled of citrus and sandalwood, effectively pushing out the scent of sweat and copper and iron. You tried not to jump as his fingers grazed your shoulders. 

“You don’t have to—” you started, but he shushed you as he coaxed the wash into your skin. 

“Neither do you,” he breathed. “I want to help.”

You didn’t protest any more as he began to massage the soap into your body. Marc was gentle and strong all at once, and you didn’t want to admit that his hands felt like the only thing holding you together. Part of you imagined slipping through his fingers and down the drain, a puddle of shock and shame and guilt unable to face the world anymore. 

It took Marc a long time to coax the tension out of your shoulders. You still felt paralyzed under his touch—not just from the shock of the evening, but also from the fact that, for the first time in weeks, he was touching you at all. He didn’t behave as if there was any bad blood between you, but he also didn’t act like you were the love of his life. His tenderness was only afforded to you because of the dreadful state you were in. 

Once all of the lather was rinsed from your skin, you stepped out of the shower to let him finish by himself. 

It felt better that way, like it was what both of you deserved. As nice as it felt, you couldn’t allow him to keep nursing you like this. It wasn’t fair to him to have to care for you so—not after the turmoil you had put him through. You knew he must be scared out of his mind if he was even willing to continue to front. That wasn’t fair either. 

“You know, I’m okay,” you murmured to him as you wrapped a towel around you. “You don’t have to be worried.”

You left him with that and you exited the bathroom. The windows give you a marvelous view of uptown, which still buzzed with life and glowed with color despite the late hour. You were drawn for a moment back to the fact that it was a holiday weekend. In a place like this, the observance of such an occasion was far from even remotely religious. 

The duffel you had brought was sitting in the bottom of the open wardrobe, still untampered with and holding presumably everything you’d left home with. There wasn’t anything for you to sleep in—you had been so worried about what the mission required, you’d forgotten just to pack the simple necessities. Save for underwear, all that was left in the bag was your suit and the clothes you’d arrived in. Well, and an array of weaponry. You pulled on one of the complementary robes provided by the hotel. 

Marc emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Warmth migrated across your chest as you looked at him, his toned body giving a small reminder of the good things you had in your life to hold onto. 

“You gonna try for more sleep?” He asked. 

“Are you?” You countered. He grimaced. 

He sat on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his sopping wet curls. For all the tension he had worked out of you, Marc was sitting as rigid as you’d ever seen him. He looked exhausted, of course, but that didn’t stop every atom in his body from buzzing with nervous energy. You hated the look in his eyes that you immediately recognized. 

Guilt. 

“What’s wrong?” Your question surprised him. Why were you asking him what was wrong? This situation absolutely called for the opposite. Except, it surely did not. 

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“I’m not stupid, Marc. What’s wrong with you?” There was impatience in your voice, and he struggled to counter the tone with softness. 

“This wasn’t supposed to go this way.” He explained. The look on your face signaled to him that he needed to elaborate. “I should have been the one—”

“No.” 

His eyes widened and his jaw snapped shut. It took a moment for him to regain his use of words. 

“What do you mean no?”

“Don’t you fucking dare do that. You don’t get to feel guilty about this.”

“I don’t…what?” He was very taken aback. Marc hated how easily you could read him, but he couldn’t read you with nearly the same accuracy. Your mind desperately tried to form your thoughts in a concise and eloquent way. 

“You always do this! Something bad happens and all you can do is blame yourself. I get that you default to beating yourself up, Marc, but you don’t get to do that at the expense of my autonomy. I know this mission got completely fucked up. I know you wish you were the one to pull the trigger. But you weren’t, and that was my choice, and you don’t get to take that away from me just because you wish that it had gone differently.”

You finished with a stern look and a deep sigh. He was, understandably, silent for a while. You shook your head as you watched him try and fail to find anything to say back to you. 

“I know that it wasn’t supposed to go this way. I know, but you don’t get to take the credit for that.”

Marc stared up at you with a tinge of anger in his eyes. Just a tiny little spark, a fire that could as easily be directed at himself as it could be at you. Or just to the world in general, for that matter. You didn’t know exactly what to think. 

“You know, Jake thinks that I don’t know how often he does this.”

Of all the things he could have said, you certainly weren’t expecting that. The mention of Jake had you sitting up ever-so-slightly taller, though Marc uttered the name with all the disgust that you had uttered Arnold Dubois’. He sucked in a sour breath. 

“I didn’t know at first, to be fair, but it didn’t take that long to figure it out. Khonshu was too lax with me—he was letting me off too easy. He stopped making fun of Steven. Hell, some days I wouldn’t even hear from him at all. Steven insisted that our re-negotiation had just gotten to him, but I knew better than that. He’s too much of a narcissist to just let us off like that. It didn’t take much to figure out that Jake was filling in the gaps. There was time missing—time that Steven didn’t have. Time that I couldn’t explain.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Behind the anger in his gaze, there was pleading. It was pathetic, desperate, short-tempered pleading and it almost made you want to wrap him in a hug that you knew he wouldn’t accept. 

He shimmied closer to you in the bed, just enough that you were almost touching him. His chest rose and fell with urgency, though his face was mostly calm. 

“I just don’t think you understand. You look at him like he’s some shiny new toy. He’s some dark and mysterious man that you’ve convinced yourself is somehow safer than he actually is. I don’t think you realize that he can’t help himself.”

“Can’t help himself?” 

“The violence is who he is. It’s literally all that he knows. I’ve felt it, I’ve seen it.”

He must have taken the look on your face as confusion. It wasn’t. It was somewhere between anger and pity, but that didn’t stop him from droning on. 

“You know when there’s a glass of water sitting just too close to the edge of the table, and that little voice in your head tells you it would be worth it to push it over just to watch it shatter on the floor? Jake is that voice.

“I think that you didn’t know what you got yourself into by coming on this mission. If I hadn’t come to the front, everyone would be dead. All those guards, maybe even the wait staff. Probably even you. Jake doesn’t see shades of gray. He sets a target and he aims, no matter who’s in the way, and he enjoys it. You need to learn that now, not later.” 

You were seething. Marc tucked himself into your grasp, holding you patronizingly. From where he was, your shaking and blushing and gritted teeth must have been from the shock. You poor thing, he must be thinking. It was integral to him. Marc had to feel like he was responsible for you. Not only for you, but for Steven and for Jake and for Khonshu and for everyone else in the world. You were his to protect. 

“I don’t think that it is.” Your voice was stern.

“That what is?”

“I don’t think that the voice in your head is Jake. The one that wants to knock over the glass? It isn’t him. I think that it’s you.”

He dropped his arms and sat back up, away from you. Marc looked offended and confused and on edge, not to foreign from the way that he normally looked, to be fair. 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re projecting on him. You say that he enjoys the violence, but I’ve seen first hand that it’s flat out addictive to you. Jake wants to watch the glass shatter on the floor, but I’ve seen you marvel at the blood on your fists after a mission. Maybe the guilt eats at you, but it’s more than Khonshu’s pact holding you to the suit and the fight. Jake might enjoy the chaos. He might create it and he might bask in it, but you’re the one that needs it.” 

Something snapped in him. It was subtle, not too visible in the soft light of the room, but it was there and it was unmistakable. Marc’s eyes lit up with fire and anger ran through him at record speed. He stared at you, his muscles tensing, and his lips were struggling not to turn upward into a devilish grin. 

He tackled you on the bed, pressing his mouth furiously against yours and forcing your lips open with his tongue. Marc thrashed at the robe, tugging it inch by inch of your shoulders. You had barely processed the movement, slowly relaxing into his touch before feverishly reciprocating. 

“Marc?” You hissed as he migrated down to your neck. His hands were shaking slightly and he couldn’t seem to hold you in any way other than how he might hold a ceramic doll. His touch was desperate and ravenous, but he couldn't bear to hold you any tighter. It was infuriating. 

You pulled him down onto you with all of your strength. All your brain would let you think was how desperately you had been pining for his touch. Marc would come back from his endless silence and avoidance and grief, just to treat you like a wounded animal? You couldn’t let him do that to you. If he was letting off steam now, he was going to let it out with full force. 

A frustrated whimper erupted from his chest when you ground your hips up into him. Water dripped onto your cheek as he dipped his head and sucked in a breath. His magen David wasn’t around his neck—Jake must have taken it off sometime before he left London. A little voice in your head quite annoyingly interrupted your heated moment. 

Marc only hates him so much because he doesn’t carry all the guilt with him that Marc does. It’s jealousy, and it has nothing to do with you. 

You tried simultaneously to coax him more into letting out his stress and to use your own strength to treat him with gentleness. Marc could so easily fall apart under a feather-light touch and a string of nice words, but he told himself that he wasn't deserving of either. You continued to pull him downward onto you while threading your fingers through his still-dampened hair and over the side of his face. He let out a choked moan against your throat. 

Marc laced his fingers underneath the band of your underwear, pressing the pads against your skin and stopping short of your entrance. You tried to press up into them, but your hips were trapped underneath his grasp. He was warming up to the feeling of using all his strength against you. 

“I need—more, baby. Hurry—” your breath was stolen by more fruitless attempts to grind upward into his hand. He raised his head to grin at you lazily. “Hurry up.” 

“You mean like this?” Marc’s voice was a devilish whisper as he pressed his index finger into you. You choked out a stressed whine and he curled upward. He could spend all night pleasuring you, giving none of his attention to any pleasure of his own. You typically had to steer him back to a path of more mutual benefit. 

You grazed your hand over his chest, circling his peck with your thumb and leaving a faint trail with your fingernails. He tremored slightly when the pad of your index finger flicked across his nipple. Marc added another digit beside the first, twisting and bending the two together. You jolted forward when they hit that spot and he chuckled a short, satisfied hum. 

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” You pulled him back into a kiss before he could be too chuffed by his little quip. To the best of your reach, you again rolled your hips into his grasp. He groaned into your mouth, licking over your teeth and sucking on your bottom lip, and you could feel him growing hard against you. Marc rolled backward slightly onto his knees for leverage and he used his waist to press you back against the mattress. 

You pulsed around his fingers as they slipped back out of you. Marc pulled the towel away from him and tossed beside the bed, not having to pull away for more than a second. As he resumed grinding into you, all you could think was that you weren’t holding him tightly enough. 

“Come here,” you begged breathlessly against his lips. You wrapped your arm around his neck to pull him flush against your chest and you tightened your grip on his hair. His face contorted in confusion as you snaked your arm between his shoulder blades. 

“I’m here.” He couldn’t fathom how to get any closer to you. As he reached down to lace his thumb under the band of your underwear, you dropped one of your hands to the sheets, balling them in your fist. He trailed the piece down your thighs and tossed the cotton aside, letting it fall on top of the towel he had thrown before it. 

“Closer.” You couldn’t think of any other words. Marc ran his teeth along the bottom of your jaw before leaning backward on his knees. He pressed his tip up against you and you squeezed the sheet—and his skin—until your knuckles were white and numb. 

He bottomed out slowly and tenderly, sweat beading along his forehead and across his collarbone. Marc fought a losing battle trying to steady himself as you tensed desperately around him, urging him forward. It wasn’t right, this being so lazy and so caring and so carefree. You needed to hold onto the tension and the anger. 

“Don’t be impatient,” he warned, and you answered him with a squinting glare. 

“Don’t hold out on me.”

There was something empty about the whole affair. Sure, it was messy and complicated and you were upset with him as much as he was upset with you, but it wasn’t just that. Marc set his pace so… impersonally. You had begged him to hold you closer and he had, but it still seemed so artificial. Distant. Vacant. 

You pressed your mouth back to his, this time holding him there with your grip deathly strong on the back of his neck. He swallowed thickly as you worked his lips apart, nipping at the delicate skin. He whined into your mouth, frustrated. 

You abused his mouth until he had to pull away for air and he bowed his head down into your chest. He was panting and he faltered in his pace. When he regained his composure, he quickened his rhythm and deepened his movement. It still felt a bit distant, but certainly less detached. 

Little whimpers and deepened whines were escaping his lips intermittently. He tried to control them, but he couldn’t keep his focus as you arched your back to match his pace and liven his angle. The sounds that you were making were no less desperate, but they were hitched and broken by the struggle of your breath. You tried to push your thighs up for better leverage, but your strength was failing you. 

Your pleasure was building quickly, especially with his desperate noises of contentment pushing it forward. You could tell by his pace and his breath and his touch that he was getting close as well. Reaching down between the two of you, you chased your climax with urgency, wanting to ensure that it came alongside his. 

It wasn’t long before you were cumming over his length, clenching around him erratically and sending him over the edge. The marks that his hands made on your skin as he rode out his high were likely to leave bruises. You couldn’t care less about that, though. Marc barely held himself up from smothering you as he panted for breath. You wouldn’t have minded if he had collapsed on you totally, as his weight would only have served to hold you together after he’d taken you apart. 

He rolled off of you and you rolled likewise to hold him at his side. The air in the room was so thick that the two of you may as well have been underwater, but that didn’t stop you from tucking yourself onto his chest and wrapping your legs around his own. Marc sighed resignedly as he placed his hand flatly over your back. He hated to utter the words about as much as you hated to hear them.

“We should talk about this.”

-

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[mysecretlittlelibrary]

To Avenge or Not To Avenge

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: violence, mentions of SA, murder

Genre: angst and some fluff

Summary: Loki goes with you to get revenge on someone from your past

A/N: This is a barely fleshed out idea based on a tiktok I saw once lol

***

You angrily load your revolver with a clear focus of your plan. As soon as you walk out of your room you're confronted by Tony standing in the hall.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asks with his arms crossed. You clench your jaw and pull out the other gun and point it at him.

"I'm going to fix a problem and you are not going to get in my way." You say purposefully.

"You know I can't let you do that."

"Move Tony." You glare.

"Or what y/n? You'll kill me? Because that's the only way you're getting out of here." Tony says. You roll your eyes and shoot the gun pointed at him. He gasps and holds his arm dramatically.

"Oh relax- it's not gonna kill you. This just shoots tranquilizer darts. I knew you wouldn't let me outta here so- contingency plan." You shrug shoving the dart gun into your boot.

"You- you can't-" Tony's sentence slows to a stop as he goes down.

"Have a nice nap." You singsong as you step over him to leave. As you're walking through the living room you catch the attention of Loki coming from the kitchen.

"You look like you're getting into something interesting. Trouble causing perhaps." Loki muses.

"Sure am, wanna come with?" You ask with a mischievous smirk as you pass him.

"Don't mind if I do." Loki follows you into the elevator and out of the tower.

"What kind of trouble are we causing exactly?" Loki asks.

"The revenge kind so- I hope you like dessert." You say. When you get a distance from the tower you stop in front of a tree and stash the dart gun in a hidden compartment.

"I'm sorry if this is a revenge thing why are you stashing your weapon?" Loki frowns following you away from the tree.

"That just shoots tranquilizer darts. I knew none of those do-gooders would just let me leave so- I used tools at my disposal. Now that I'm out- I don't need it. By the time anyone tries to find me, I'll be done. Plus it wouldn't be cool if it went off in my shoe." You shrug.

"Sounds like you've got it all figured out." Loki muses.

"Of course I do. Being efficient often requires planning." You say.

"Well- you're not wrong." Loki says. You walk through the streets with a sharp look on your face, Loki trailing slightly behind you curious as to where you're taking him. Eventually, you walk into an apartment building and up several flights of steps before walking up to a door and knocking.

"You're knocking on the door?" Loki frowns. His frown deepens when a burly man opens the door.

"Hi." You smile before slapping him across the face with the barrel of your gun.

"Shit." The man growls, stumbling backwards.

"Do you remember me? It won't make a difference I'm still gonna kick your ass but- it might be easier for you if you remember me." You say landing a roundhouse kick to his jaw.

"You bitch." He launches himself towards you and you react with an elbow to his gut as you sidestep him. Loki stands by the door, leaning against a wall casually as he watches.

"Sure am." You snark swinging your foot into his back and knocking him onto his stomach. He rolls over and grabs your ankle, pulling you onto your back and straddling you. His hands wrap around your neck until realization dawns on his face.

"You're that little girl who joined the Avengers." He snarls.

"In the fucking flesh." You force your elbow into his face with as much strength as you can. It's enough to loosen his grip on your throat and you tuck your legs under him enough to kick him off you.

"Look at you. Finally learned how to fight back." His words are ever so slightly slurred. He runs at you again and you use his force to send him directly into a wall.

"I've been waiting to do this for a long time." You say shooting his leg before he can get up again.

"Fuck!" He growls falling on his ass. You shoot his other leg and he lets out another shout of a curse. Your next shot is right between his legs and Loki has to contain his laughter.

"You're going to rot in the deepest most firey pit in hell." You glare at him.

"As if you're any better." He scoffs.

"I am. I'm getting rid of scum like you." You say, your last shot going straight through his chest. You watch the last signs of life drain from his eyes before you walk away from him.

"Well that was- a pleasant surprise." Loki says.

"He's dead. Now I feel better." You say walking out of the apartment. Loki jogs ahead of you and stops you in your path.

"Are you sure?" Loki asks.

"That he's dead? I shot him four times and the last one went through his heart. If he's not dead he'll bleed out long before anyone finds him." You shrug walking past him.

"No- that you actually feel better now." Loki frowns following you out of the building.

"Don't tell me you went and got one of those pesky consciouses they've been trying to force into you for years. I only invited you because I knew you wouldn't try to lecture me about it. Now would be a seriously shitty time to develop morality." You stop and look at him.

"Believe me darling I'm not here to lecture you. I didn't stop you did I? It's not my morality I'm worried about." Loki says. You roll your eyes and keep walking.

"My morality is fine. Thank you very much." You say.

"You've just always been such a forgiving person-"

"Wrong. I have never been that much of a forgiving person. I can't just let everything go. He deserved so much more than what I did to him."

"I don't doubt it but- I've never seen you go against the rest of the team so much."

"Yeah well- they're so against anything like what their stupid team name means. Avenge is literally to inflict harm for a wrong done to yourself or someone else. That man did so much wrong- for years. To me and others."

"Not that I don't believe you- but what did he do so wrong that you're willing to go against the others?"

"He assaulted me. For years. And I tried, I really tried to turn the other cheek. They all swore up and down that it wouldn't help me, wouldn't make me feel any better about what happened to me. That the best thing I could do- the best revenge I could get was not letting it control my life. So I did my damn best to move on. But I had a friend that I lived with before I came to the tower. He knew where we lived. I went to see her one night and- she was dead- he was there- and he laughed. He mocked me and I fucking froze. Couldn't do a damn thing." You explain.

"Y/n-"

"If I had taken care of him in the first place my friend would still be alive."

"Her death is not your fault." Loki grabs your shoulder to stop you.

"I know. It's his fault. But it's my responsibility to make sure he never hurts anyone else. I tried to do things their way and my friend ended up dead. Now I have to go back to that tower and listen to them lecture me on why I was wrong." You roll your eyes.

"You're not wrong. You know that and I know that. So let's go." Loki says placing his hand comfortingly on your back. The two of you enter the tower and find pretty much everyone in the living room.

"You're back." Natasha sees you first.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Tony glares at you.

"You know what? Choke." You scoff.

"Excuse me?!" Tony blinks.

"Y/n what you did was-"

"I do not want to hear it. First of all do any of you know what avenge means? Is it only acceptable to right wrongs when they're on a national, global, universal scale? Fuck what traumas individuals go through yeah?" You cut Steve off.

"You can't just go around playing judge jury and executioner for everyone that does something bad." Steve sighs.

"You all are absolutely ridiculous." Loki scoffs.

"You. You are a bad influence on her." Tony says.

"He actually had no idea where I was going when I invited him to come with me please get off your high horse before I push you off of it. I'm an adult who can and does make decisions independent of other people's 'influence' including yours." You roll your eyes.

"Y/n we're just worried about you-"

"Well I'm completely fucking fine so save your lectures for someone else. I literally couldn't care less." You storm off to your room.

"She just did what most survivors would give anything to see happen and you're guilt-tripping her for taking the life of someone worth less than the dust under your shoes. You all are even stupider than I thought." Loki scoffs leaving to go to your room. Loki knocks on your room door.

"Y/n? Can I come in?" He calls. You reluctantly open the door after a moment.

"Do you need something?" You ask.

"I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"I'm fine Loki. I don't need you checking up on me." You roll your eyes.

"I know you don't need me checking up on you. But believe it or not I care so I'm checking anyway."

"Well like I said- I'm fine. I couldn't care less about what they have to say."

"These people matter to you. It wouldn't be shocking if you were bothered by their judgmental nature."

"I'm not bothered because I know I'm not wrong. They can all judge me if they want but I don't regret a damn thing." You cross your arms. Loki wraps his arms around you suddenly. The embrace shocks you but you don't pull away from him.

"And you shouldn't regret it. If no one else in this wretched tower agrees with you- even though I'm sure you don't care, you have my support." Loki says.

"You're- thank you." You say against his chest.

"I'd like to think they'll come around, but I know from personal experience that doesn't always happen." Loki tells you stepping back to look at you.

"Who cares. I've got you on my side now." You smile.

"You always had me on your side." Loki smiles back.

***