#she’s spineless and is only saying whatever she thinks will get her out of trouble so she can keep getting paid for using cf

[ghostwoohoo]

“guys i’m not a zionist i’m actually a centrist i’m so sorry 😖” idgaf!!!!! if you’re not actively pro palestine you are pro israel there’s no room for fence sitters or line straddlers in genocide. if you’re not saying FREE PALESTINE FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA with your whole fucking chest then we don’t want you here, point blank period.

[msweebyness]

Mirrorverse Crossover- Mireille

Here it is, folks! It’s the Princess of the Pride Lands and the Goddess of the Dead, and things are gonna get heated. As always, credit to @imsparky2002 and @artzychic27! Enjoy!

The princess of the Pride Lands wasn’t letting her guard down for a second, that was for damned sure. One of the first things their mother had taught them about being a good queen was to always keep a watchful eye out for danger, both anticipated and spontaneous. She didn’t trust the smirking goddess sitting across from her as far as they could throw them, and she was sure that Mireides could sense that.

Looking across the space at her feline counterpart, the wicked teen deity couldn't help but release a quiet cackle. The hybrid probably thought she looked hella intimidating with that little 'game face' she had on. Glaring eyes, firm frown, that little growl...it was kind of cute, really. With a sigh, the goddess decided it was high time for someone to try and break the ice.

"Would ya ease up a little, Princess? I'm not gonna try and hurt you or anything. We're just here to talk, aren't we?", Mireides said in a nonchalant tone, examining her nails. The hybrid's glare only intensified at the words of her counterpart.

"I don't like you, and I don't trust you. I've heard about what you like to do for fun, and I think you're a psychopath. So, no. I won't 'ease up'.", Miremba said firmly, a growl underlaying their tone as the deity of death and despair rolled their eyes yet again.

"Whatever you say, kitten.", they sighed, the hybrid fuming at their use of Aurore's nickname for her. "Can we at least try to have a civilized conversation? I'll tell you a bit about myself, and you do the same? Deal?", earning a reluctant nod from the hybrid.

"Okay, well, I'm the goddess of death, I rule the Underworld with an iron fist, don't put out my hair if you value your vital organs, and I'm immortal.", the goddess listed off with a bemused expression, "Alright, your turn."

"I'm a lion-hybrid, I don't like hunting, and I'm the princess of the Pride Lands.", Miremba answered, before her face fell, "Technically should be queen, but..."

"Ah, that's right. Dear old mama kicked the bucket, didn't she?", Mireides said in a falsely sympathetic tone, a mocking look of pity on their face, "And because you left, your uncle was left in charge, and the Pride Lands pretty much died. All because you weren't brave enough to stand up for your people until it was almost too late.", the death goddess taunted.

The hybrid princess couldn't even muster a response as tears welled in their feline brown eyes, because deep down...she felt that Mireides was right. The Pride Lands, her people...they had suffered because she ran away like a coward. The tears began to slide down her cheeks as they hung their head in shame, her counterpart bearing a triumphant smirk.

- - - - - -

"What a soft-hearted, pathetic little kitten!", Alix Khan sneered, earning snickers from her fellow villains, "As if someone so weak is fit to rule the Pride Lands! She's not a queen, she's a crybaby!"

"I almost pity the hybrids who will live under the rule of such a spineless excuse for a queen! The entire kingdom will descend into chaos once they take the throne. Unless she somehow manages to grow some backbone, which I sincerely doubt will happen.", IsmaScar added scornfully, neither hybrid noticing the fuming, blue-clad fairy until she spoke in a tense voice.

"If I hear one more insult from either of you, I swear on every star in the night sky, I will curse you into oblivion!", BlueRore hissed, already holding her wand in a ready position.

"Easy, Rorie.", said Sabrinocchio, gently lowering her arm, "They aren't worth getting in trouble and having your magic suspended for!", the puppet girl continued, glaring at the smirking hybrids.

"They're only speaking the truth, my dear. I would think you would find some value in that.", King Marc said condescendingly, "With such fragile emotions, they haven't the slightest chance of competently ruling a kingdom."

"Given that that's coming from someone who 'maintains order' by poisoning people, I doubt she's going to put much stock in your words.", Kagamerida said tersely, earning a fiery glare from both the Poison King and his mad lover.

"And our Mireille possesses far more fire and courage than you villains are giving her credit for. Are you forgetting what happened at dinner last night?", Marilan went on to say, giving a pointed look to the King of the Savannah, who shrunk down in mild embarrassment.

"If you all want to stop yapping for a moment, things are actually starting to happen in there!", Mylensula suddenly piped up from her place seated in her buggyboo's lap, "Your little lion cub is bawling like a baby.", the sea witch jeered as her boyfriend smirked, making the heroes look back to the viewing bubble in concern.

- - - - - -

"I-I...I didn't mean to let everyone down...", Miremba squeaked, wringing her hands, "I was a cub, I was scared. I had just lost my mother and I didn't know what to do!", the lioness defended, barely able to breathe through their heavy tears, which only delighted the goddess.

"Of course you didn't, sweetheart. That's why you ran away. You were to weak and immature to fight for your people. Not that bright either, it seems.", the goddess taunted, earning a glare from their counterpart, "After all, your incompetence and blind faith in your uncle was what set the stage for your mommy to die in the first place!"

That was too far.

"Stop. Talking. Now.", Miremba said, a low snarl rising in their throat as her slitted pupils narrowed even more.

"And then you had to go and dishonor her even in death by running away and leaving her murderous brother in charge of her people. tsk, tsk. I can't imagine how painful it was for her to watch them suffer from the world beyond. Heartbreaking, really.", the goddess continued, relishing in the hybrid's growing fury.

"I am NOT kidding. Shut the fuck up.", Miremba snapped, feeling her instincts begin to take over from rational thought. If this hotheaded, arrogant prick didn't stop running their mouth...

"For a mighty queen, a noble leader, to bear the burden of such a cowardly and unworthy child...what a pity. I can't even imagine the shame she must feel as she watches her daughter crying like a child. You really are a disappointment."

That did it.

"I SAID SHUT UP!", Miremba screamed, before releasing a mighty roar. With a deafening snarl, they dropped to all fours, and fur sprouted from their limbs. Teeth and claws sharpening as their tail lashed back and forth. She had shifted into her lion form, and was out for blood. The goddess of death barely had time to process what was happening before the huge, furious creature tackled her to the ground, growling viciously. Okay, suddenly they weren't feeling quite so smug...

Meanwhile, back with the other teens, the heroes all bore expressions of great concern while the villains could only stare in shock. One second there was a girl, the next a lion!

"Okay, wha' the HELL jus' happened?!", Ivan Oogie cried, rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things, "How'd she do that?!"

"Do all hybridsss have thisss power?", Jafardrien asked with awe and intrigue, looking at the two villainous felines, who didn't answer. Clearly, they were wondering the same thing.

"Uh, guys?! Mireille, in BIG trouble!", Doctor Cabello pointed out, the other villains all fearing for their friend's safety as they watched.

But before they could say anything else, two identical shouts rang out.

"MIR!", BlueRore and MimRore cried out at the same time, both rushing from the room towards the meeting place.

When the fairy burst through the door, she quickly rushed over to try and soothe her beloved.

"Kitten, no! You have to stop, they're not worth it! It's okay!', BlueRore said softly in the lioness' ear, continuing as her words seemed to resonate and Miremba released the trembling goddess, who was pulled into the arms of her wacky witch, "That's it, it's going to be okay. Your mother loves you, and she's watching you with all the pride in the world! You are a wonderful person, and you will be a great queen."

With those words, Miremba shifted back into her humanoid form, nearly collapsing into BlueRore's embrace, her breaths heavy and hoarse.

"I'm sorry.", they choked out, the fairy only hugging them tighter and running her hand through their hair.

"Grimmy, are you okay?", MimRore asked frantically, checking the goddess over for any injuries, before they grasped her hands.

"I'll be fine, cuckoo bird, don't worry about me!", Mireides answered, before releasing a dry, humorless chuckle, "Guess I crossed a line, huh?"

"Maybe so.", the blonde witch said in an uncharacteristically dark tone, "But that doesn't mean she's getting away with what she did."

And there it was folks! The quiet ones have the mightiest roars! It's FINALLY done! Keep an eye out for Artzy to release Adrien, and leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[non-fantasy]

short story - beloved reflection

I am a 'mirror.'

No matter what kind of person you are, I will always reflect your desires. Whether you want a kindhearted best friend, a reliable classmate, a faithful servant, or an obedient servant, I can do it all.

It's almost laughable, isn't it?

I'm always hearing people say 'be yourself, others will like you for your real self,' but those words have never applied to me.

Because I don't have a 'real self' for others to like in the first place.

I don't have a single dream for the future, nor any desires I wish to come true, or even things to like. The closest thing I have to a hobby is simply distracting myself as the days go by.

Such an empty person would never be loved by anyone, right?

I knew from a young age that showcasing my empty heart would just be inviting scorn. Those that stuck out too much were always targeted for harassment. So, I plastered a placid smile on my face and copying others to fit in with the group.

I was only thinking of my own self-interest. My only goal was to do the bare minimum to be accepted, and yet...

Somehow, that behavior ended up getting me a 'friend.'

All I had been doing was nodding and smiling to his words, yet he held my hands and said that he thought of me as his best friend.

...was it cruel that my only thought at the time was 'what a pain'?

Even though I never asked for such a relationship, it was foisted on me without my input. To make things worse, I couldn't break off the relationship on my own without becoming hated.

My efforts to avoid trouble had only invited more into my life.

One friend became two, became three, became four, became five, and I had to juggle those people who barged into my life without warning. Every day, I had to wear kindness for them.

Not even my home could be my sanctuary. A new mother joined my family, bringing new sisters along with her. The only time I could be alone was when I was in my room.

But, even that is maddening.

My frustration and exhaustion keep mounting with every day I'm around these people. I fantasize about snapping and screaming for everyone to leave me alone, I daydream of a life where I run off to the wilderness...

...but I know I'm too spineless for such a thing. If I were brave enough to do so, I wouldn't need to act in the first place.

I hate this cowardly me, but what other choice do I have? A lonely mirror is useless beyond words. What future do I have outside of being everyone's beloved reflection?

The idea of these days continuing on forever makes me pray for the sun to stop. I pray morning won't ever come, that I won't be forced to keep going.

The goddess, in her infinite devilry, granted my wish by bashing my skull in.

I know that, for anyone else, getting into a carriage accident would be the height of misfortune. It's a situation anyone would dread.

Being so grateful for this misfortune... obviously shows how abnormal I am.

But for me, that accident served as an important 'shield.'

Suddenly, people's conversations with me were limited to well wishes and sympathy. I could wait out those short conversations and cut off the threat of longer ones with 'sorry, I'm tired, I need to rest now.' I had the perfect excuse not to see anyone for however long it took for me to recover.

Yes, this situation was almost completely perfect for me.

Almost.

While I was relishing the opportunity to be free from others for a while... the devilish goddess seemed to have played another prank on me.

Because, a few days after I woke up, 'she' started to speak to me. A voice distinct from my own thoughts, one more cheerful and sincere than any part of me could ever be.

'Nice to meet you! I'm you from your past life! Now, this might be hard to believe, but you're the heroine of an otome game! With my help, you can definitely reach whatever happy ending you want!'

...you've got to be kidding me.

Even though I wanted to cover my ears and run, those memories in my head would not be ignored. I saw it clear as day in her eyes.

Her hands clasping some sort of two-handed device with buttons, my figure being shown embraced by various people... according to her memories, my entire world was contained in the story on that magic mirror. My life, my future, all of them were contained in that story's branching paths. I could see every failure, every success, every happy ending the world had to offer...

...and in every single happy ending, I saw my own false smile.

Even in another world, I was still the same. Picking whatever would make the person before me happiest, putting on whatever face they would want to see. I lied, tricked, and pretended my way into their hearts, all the way until the end.

There was no future for me outside of failure or an eternity as the bitter reflection I had become. There was no hope for me in this predestined world.

That realization shattered my will.

If it's all pointless, I won't care anymore.

I don't want to see anyone.

I don't want to pretend another second.

I...

I want to lay abandoned and forgotten in this room, just like you'd treat any other broken mirror, until the day I die.

[starguardianniom]

Ladybug's job to help her civilian's self's bully? Over what? Getting her mother's love? Or getting out of the toxic mindset that she needs to be like her mother to get her love?

I think you grossly overestimate her job, she's there first to deal with the local magical terrorism which is the sole reason she's around in the first place, and yes sometimes they do help with other stuff because they want to, but also it shouldn't be their job to help Chloé going through whatever emotional baggage she has, cause then they would need to help everyone who needs it, and they aren't bloody therapists.

Honestly Chloé could just decide to cut her losses with her mom and focus on the actual good stuff that she has in her life like her father who loves her and gives her whatever she wants, the good life she has in Paris, but she cares more about getting the approval of the one person who abandoned her all those years ago and would happily ditch everything to go with her without looking back a second time to see just how good she had it before.

Even if her parents aren't the best, she is rich, has everything she wants, a loving father, a friend who does everything she says, another good childhood friend that she likes and finally is going to her school, she can do whatever she wants without problems. Of course all it does is inflate her ego and drives her into nastier habits and behavior since she's completely pampered and unable to understand that life won't always go her way, but still.

Ladybug already does well enough to see that Chloé still stays alive at the end of the day given the number of people that gets akumatized because of her cruelty and pettiness. She's lucky already that Ladybug and Chat Noir still bothered to save her after all the trouble she gave them and even sometimes didn't bother saying thanks, but apparently still asks and boss them around like they were her servants, asking Chat Noir to do her homework for her at one point.

Technically, to Ladybug, and solely Ladybug's side, Chloé is just another random civilian, one of the most annoying and nastier ones, but a random civilian that she doesn't personally know, as far as everyone else is concerned, so she can't just suddently go and say she knows best regarding Chloé's situation given how for most of her life apart from her mother leaving her Chloé had everything else going for her.

And even if she does help people with their personal problems sometimes it's mostly so that they learn an important lesson that led someone to get akumatized in the first place, now if people take her advice or not is another matter entirely, because people still have free will and she can't override that even if she's the hero of Paris.

There's also only so much Ladybug can help, if Chloé even notice she needs help in the first place, but Chloé's situation still isn't Ladybug's responsability to take care entirely and stuff, and that's that.

Chloé will probably get better help in New York where the people won't have been spineless for years so they'll probably give her a dose of reality that she really needs and it might help her more than the trainwreck she got in the show.

Also Ladybug spends a lot of time calling out adults on stupid stuff, the mayor for example, or the cops, or Bob, or again keeps telling Monarch off, even Gabriel gets it.

Marinette is allowed to be done with Chloé's crap, she gave her chances and then had to protect her and Chloé didn't like it and spit on her and everything she did for her and siding with Hawk Moth because she prefered to believe him rather than having to wait around for Ladybug and decided they were enemies and never backed down from it after and Marinette endured 2 seasons of Chloé being even nastier than the earlier seasons and even after Chloé losing a final time she still tried to take one last cheap shot at her which made Marinette realised that she wasn't worth her efforts and patience anymore, and shot her down for good at the end.

Chloé wanted to hurt Marinette in everyway she could think of, and Marinette decided to stop trying to help someone who kept trying to destroy her because they would probably have both crashed and burned together, and Marinette is entirely entitled to not wanting to sink with Chloé just because the latter feels the need to try to have some last semblance of control over someone else.

And that's my take on it, like it or not it won't change my opinion.

Ladybug tried to help Chloé and it failed, but she's not her keeper and there's only so much she can do and endured before Chloé made sure to slam the door in her face and locked it and threw the key away.

Ladybug is allowed to be done with Chloé because Chloé managed to erase any and all sympathy Ladybug could have for her situation by being a cruel, petty brat until the very end. She spent years being tormented by her. She now pass the torch to someone else who will probably be qualified for the job and with no personal background attached to her to help her better hopefully. Or she'll just keep reaching new lows.

But Ladybug will have other problems next seasons to deal with, and sorry to say that but the world doesn't stop turning for Chloé Bourgeois, and neither Ladybug will stop for her forever.

Shadybug and Chloé

So I read that many people were peeved that Chloé Bourgeois got namedropped when Shadybug was ranting to Ladyfly about how she didn't have a good life and only knew pain and suffering at the ends of Chloé and well, I feel like it kinds of fit though?

Hear me out first before branding your pitchforks please.

In Shadybug and Claw Noir's world, Betterfly says that any forms of mutual aid is a CRIME.

So let's just say that probably shades some lights on why Shadybug is so angry and bitter and jealous of Ladybug, she has no one to turn to but her partner who tries to backstab her constantly and wouldn't mind killing her off without a second thought if she pushed her luck too much.

If helping someone else is a crime in their world, it would probably explain why Shadybug has no friends, the girl squad trying to comfort her back in Derision the year before and Socqueline standing up for her would probably get them in serious trouble and it wouldn't be with just Chloé, but probably the teachers and other students witnessing them help Emonette in any way.

No idea what would be the punishment, but most likely something they don't dare to try to chance it.

So they are not close to Emonette and don't befriend her, so she is really alone to face her bully.

Who is probably worse than the actual Chloé if there is really no one stopping her from making Emonette feeling even worse.

The Supreme being the main villain and not Gabriel changed some stuff in their world, and it starts with different laws and views on some things, and one of them is helping others in any way is seen as criminal.

Apparently being decent in that universe makes you a pariah or something like that.

That might also explains why Shadybug says she doesn't have a nice mom, her mom probably doesn't dare to do anything against her bullying, or even if she is maybe concerned about it, can't help her because again it's a crime to help others in that universe apparently.

Not that even if she did try, Chloé is most likely still the daughter of the mayor in that universe too and can get away with it while probably having Emonette and Sabine being punished for any perceived slight against her, weither she is in the right or wrong. We saw several examples in the show of her doing just that, and some where before and after she became Queen Bee so.

And let's not forget that Emonette doesn't have Alya either, so she probably went through what Marinette went through 4 seasons with Chloé on a different scale, given there are no heroes but Betterfly to defend them and inspire them, and since helping others is not acceptable, Chloé has no one to look up to and idolize and wanting to be better, this universe seems to encourage people to be worse instead of better and anyone thinking the opposite becomes a criminal.

Again, their universe is quite different from the one the show takes place in and maybe it would help to remember that.

Sure it sucks for all of Chloé's fans to have her name dragged in the mud again it seems, but it's a different Chloé from quite a nasty piece of work of a universe as far as I can tell, so to me it checks out.

Because at the beginning before Marinette heard about Adrien and he becoming Ladybug to save Paris her biggest concern was Chloé Bourgeois.

She had known Chloé for years and was her favorite target, and given she was a normal teenager back then, her bully being her biggest source of angst, given how nasty Chloé is and with her father's name backing her up, seems to have it big on her plate.

Because the only person who ever gave Marinette a hard time was Chloé, never the others students, until that one time in Derision with Kim but well we're not gonna dwell on that anymore.

So it makes sense Emonette's biggest concern who made her life horrible was also Chloé Bourgeois until she got her miraculous from the Supreme, if no one else was willing to being marked a criminal for daring to help her via actual laws.

Because if people forgot about it the Supreme had no problem using two 14 years old teenagers to become his enforcers while also hiding the fact that using their powers for evil would destroy them, and those kids were fucking working for him willingly, so imagine how other 14 years old kids (mainly the class) would fare if they dared breaking the law for Emonette by helping her in any way?

Not much better it seems, given the Supreme was willing to let 2 teens die slowly despite their loyalty to him it means most likely being a kid isn't an excuse to break the law.

Gabriel said people lived in fear of the Supreme, I got a pretty good idea of why when thinking about it all.

I'm legit scared of Emonette's universe not gonna lie.

Helping people being a crime there, think about it for a second.

Chloé would have no reason to change for the better unless she would want to have problems with the actual ruler of the world.

Sounds far fetched but then again the Supreme was also able to prevent people from making a wish with Gimmi, aka the actual top god so yeah, it sucks but it's how it is in that universe.

BUT. BUT.

Doesn't mean that Emonette can't make Chloé change to become a better person in the future, but we probably won't see that happening if we ever see her again, or if we do it will probably just be mentionned quickly, or they will have bigger concerns to deal with.

[itsmyartfam]

Dadzawa fic rec list

So lately I’ve been reading a lot of Dadzawa fics so I thought I’d share them with you. I shortened down the summaries of some of the longer ones- I didn’t put them in my own words of course, but I just used the shortened snippets that authors sometimes put at the end of their own longer summaries. They’re in no particular order of greatness, and I tried to get a good blend of popular and less popular ones so here u go.

1) i. shaky hands- rexcorvidae

midoriya has chronic pain, and tries to hide it. aizawa deals with this, and learns something surprising along the way.

One-Shot. Honestly their whole whumptober collection is amazing I would totally read them all if you have the time, they’re pretty much all loaded with great Dadzawa content

2) Not all exits are made Equal- LunaLucrea

When a raid goes wrong, and Aizawa gets taken, he's hardly expecting to be found. He's a professional Underground Hero. He's seen situations like this play out before, and knows how the cards usually fall.

He's got people he'll miss of course, and he feels terrible about what this is going to do to Hizashi and Eri, but these are the types of risks he agreed to when he signed on the dotted line all those years ago. He's ready to accept his fate.

Too bad for him his former students are tenacious little shits.

Three chapters. I love seeing how Aizawa interacts with older Midoriya in the first chapter and how he thinks of all of his former students now that they’re pro heroes, he’s such a proud dad but he’s also so self-deprecating and he needs some love and class 1-A will force it on him. Wholesome, 10/10, but also warning for whump! on Aizawa’s part.

3) To the people we admire- The_ crownless_ queen

Eri learns about autographs, and how they're a way for fans to show they like their heroes. Naturally, she wants all of them — and especially Eraserhead's.

One-Shot. I don’t read many Eri fics but my god, this one is adorable. Eri learns about autographs and wants Aizawa’s but his students know that Aizawa doesn’t really give autographs so they devise a plan to get one out of him- basically by making him jealous of Eri getting autographs from every hero but him. It’s wholesome, Dadzawa is like ‘wtf Eri’, I love it.

4) Inhibitions- Thealmostrhetoricalquestion

Todoroki gets zapped by a Quirk that effectively lowers someone's inhibitions, and Aizawa deals with the strange, humorous, heart-breaking fallout.

The train ride back is something of a nightmare. Not because it goes badly, or because something awful happens, but because Aizawa can’t get rid of this feeling in his chest every time he sees Todoroki’s unusual, carefree smile. He looks like nothing has ever hurt him.

One-Shot. Lol, this one’s funny- Todoroki acts all loopy and carefree and Aizawa is frantically scrambling after him trying to make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble, all while finding out more than he’d ever thought he’d learn about his student. Good shit, good comedy, good angst.

5) I consider myself lucky- alightintheshadows

For some of us, our teachers are the greatest role models we'll ever have.

One-Shot. Ugh, this is so sappy and kinda cheesy but I love it! Izuku gives his dads All Might and Aizawa gifts because he loves is grateful to them. WHOLESOME SHIT

6) Not in the Job Description- IidaRei98

A collection of drabbles revolving around the Dadazawa and Class 1A. Mostly fluff with some hurt/comfort - whatever pops into my head really!

Incomplete, 56/? Chapters. Solid collection of dadzawa drabbles. I didn’t finish reading them all because I get easily distracted away from long fics, but since it doesn’t follow a plot it’s easy to put down and pick back up when you wanna get your dadzawa fix.

7) passing through fire- achievingelysium

“What happened? A villain?”

“Ye- yeah,” Midoriya croaks. Shouta starts walking.

“I was there,” Shouta says, feeling through the words before he speaks, “but I don’t remember?”

Midoriya closes his eyes.

“No,” he agrees, “you wouldn’t. But- but you... were there. With... me.”

Aizawa finds himself in a street with little memory of how he got there. Then he discovers Midoriya, beaten and bruised, who claims Aizawa protected him—but as Aizawa regains pieces of his memory he realizes Midoriya may be lying, and he's the one who's done his own student harm.

One-Shot. OOH, OUCH, FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE! God I love the Dadzawa ANGST in this! I haven’t seen a dadzawa fic with a plot like this before, so I highly recommend checking this one out, especially if you like ANGST! Love it!

8) a penny for your thoughts- cassiopeia721

While visiting Eri at the hospital following her rescue from the Shie Hassaikai, Izuku and Aizawa-sensei both run into a nurse with a telepathy based quirk, and Izuku finds himself in a telepathic bond with his teacher. This is... somewhat worrying, considering how many secrets Izuku needs to keep.

Six chapters. Yet another Dadzawa fic with a unique concept that I have never come across before. Very good, much angst! My only complaint is I wish Izuku could’ve heard a bit more of Aizawa’s angsty thoughts, the whole thought-hearing did feel a bit one-sided at times, but overall it was a very good fic. The angst of Izuku struggling to keep his many secrets from Aizawa for a whole week was *chef’s kiss* Good dad-son bonding.

9) Geyser- spineless

Izuku faints during class when weeks of sleeping and eating poorly catch up with him. Aizawa, All Might, and his friends, remind him that no matter what he's going through, he doesn't have to do it alone.

Three Chapters. Good Dadzawa being all disapproving of his son Izuku pushing himself too hard and not taking care of himself like he can fucking talk lol. But also some angst cuz Izuku is a tormented boi who has been through too much and is Not OkayTM and his dads are there to help him.

10) The World on His Shoulders- baggytshirtsandtiredeyes

During their second year, Aizawa decides to take some of the students on patrol to give them a taste of the underground hero life. But of course, nothing goes as planned when UA's resident Problem Child is involved.

One-Shot. Izuku is a BAMF and Aizawa is like O.O. I can’t say anything more. This fic deserves more attention.

____________________________________________________

Okie dokie, that’s enough for now. If you guys like my recommendations, maybe I’ll make another list in the future! 

[thebluestbluewords]

this isn’t done yet but I crave validation so have some rotten four bickering

*

“Buddy system today,” Mal says firmly, “No exceptions. We need to stick together and keep each other accountable. No shouting, no running, nothing that’s going to draw any attention to us so close to the ceremony.” 

“Aw, and here I had all these fireworks ready to throw at Audrey,” Jay says, tossing whatever toy he’s got up over his head. He’s sprawled out on his back over Mal’s bed, and the toy is going to get stuck in the canopy if he’s not careful. “You sure we can’t have a little mayhem, killer?” 

Mal takes a deep breath. Just because she’s strung tighter than a harp doesn’t mean that the others have to be. It’s probably for the best that they aren’t, actually. Keeping most of them relaxed means that there’s more of a margin for error in her own behavior. “If you cause trouble,” Mal says lightly “I will gut you like a fish and use your entrails for hair ribbons.” 

“Rude. At least let Eves weave them into fabric or something, make a cool jacket out of my skin.” 

“It’s too late to steal my mother’s pattern,” Carlos murmurs, without lifting his head up from the book he’s been scribbling in. “Should’a made this plan sooner. Could’ve gotten tips.” 

Mal barks out a laugh. “Hah! I think your mother might have a few words for me if I started stealing her thing, furball.”

Carlos glances up, flicker-fast, just long enough that Mal can see him roll his eyes at her. “The words being what, that’s cool as hell and you’re going to have to pay a hefty licensing fee?”

Mal loves her crew sometimes. “I was thinking more like, stop right there, you bastard usurper, how dare you infringe upon my style and all that I hold dear,” Mal says, voice intentionally low and dramatic. Appropriately evil, of course, but nothing like Cruella’s actual unhinged shriek. “Or like, just wait until my lawyer hears about this, you little spineless magpie.” 

Carlos snort-laughs. “Her lawyer being what, the only person in the house with enough remaining brain cells to open a law textbook?” 

“That’s the one. You wanna see me in court, loser?” 

“I’d kick your ass in a courtroom. Ad litem, the estate of Hell Hall brings against the estate of Maleficent of the Moors a grievous violation of lex scripta, as it has been established sub judice, and–” 

Mal throws her head back, letting her tongue loll out of her mouth and letting just the tiniest bit of magic flow to her eyes, so that she can glow an inhuman green. “You’ve vanquished me,” she gurgles, through her feigned death throes. “The sacred language has burned the devil out of me, I’m normal now.” 

[mikauzoran]

Marichat/Lila Fake-Dating/Emotional Blackmail: Betting Against the House: Chapter Six

Read it on AO3: Betting Against the House: Chapter Six: Fidelity

Marinette was so engrossed in her sewing project that Tikki had to inform her that Chat Noir was tapping on her skylight.

“What?” She looked up with a jerk, her stitch going crooked as her hands accidentally moved the material.

“Chat Noir’s here,” Tikki repeated, glancing back up towards the skylight. “Or, he might have just left. I don’t hear him knocking anymore.”

Marinette swore under her breath as she pushed herself up out of the chair and sprang into action, ascending the ladder up to her loft at double her normal speed. She didn’t see him at the window, so she pushed it open and pulled herself up onto her balcony.

He turned around from where he’d been leaning on the balcony railing, taking her in with soft eyes she was more used to seeing as Ladybug.

“Uh…hey,” he greeted, raising a hand tentatively.

“Hey.” She blinked, eyes going to the rose in his other hand. “Is that…?”

She pointed.

He followed her gaze, looking down at his own hand in surprise. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

He lifted the rose, holding it out to her as he timidly advanced. “I think you dropped this—I mean, I know you dropped it. I saw you drop it, but… Did you want it back?”

A cloudy expression set into her face as she stepped forward to take the rose and then stared at it thoughtfully.

It didn’t look like her thoughts were positive ones.

“You don’t have to take it back,” he hurriedly added. “I’ll keep it if you don’t want—”

With a jolt like one suddenly waking in the middle of a dream, Marinette’s gaze whipped around to her right, and she began searching the streets below.

“…Uh… If you’re looking for Adrien Agreste, he’s gone,” Chat informed gently, not all together sure that she was even looking for him in the first place.

Marinette looked back to him in surprise. “He is?”

Chat nodded. “I kind of saw the…er…little scene…between you and him. I was here to see you, and I just happened to catch…whatever that was. Sorry.”

She held up her hands and waved them, seeming to come back fully to the present moment and out of her thoughts. “No, it’s okay. It was…” She winced, biting her lip. “It was nothing. Um… Did you want to come in?”

“May I?” He took a hesitant step forward. “I don’t want to bother you. I heard…” His brow furrowed, and he lowered his voice. “I heard a couple things. Are you feeling okay? I heard you were sick.”

She averted her gaze, her cheeks colouring slightly. “Thanks. Yeah, I’m fine. I’m not actually sick. I just…I kind of feel like crap. I probably look like crap,” she laughed ruefully, glancing down at her sweatpants and baggy t-shirt and touching her hair self-consciously.

“You look cute,” he chuckled. “I dig the messy bun.”

She cracked up at that. “Thanks, but it got that way by accident rather than design. It was a fully-functional, respectable-looking bun earlier before I rolled around and pulled on my hair in grief and messed it up.”

He clicked his tongue, waving away her protests. “You’re rocking it, Princess. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”

Her lips settled into a soft smile, and she motioned for him to follow her down into her room. “Come in, Minou. I could use a friendly face. For some reason, today, it feels like everyone’s against me.”

“I promise they’re not really,” he attempted to comfort her as they made their way down into her attic bedroom.

She hummed ambivalently, dropping the rose off at her desk before taking a seat on her chaise and gesturing for him to sit at her feet. “Can I play with your hair? Please?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, hoping he didn’t sound too eager as he sat between her knees, his back to her.

They sat in silence for a good minute or two, Marinette running her fingers through his hair to comb it and then separating little strands into sections to braid, before she finally spoke up, mumbling, “…Today kind of sucked.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered a little more balefully than made sense since she didn’t know that he was the chief cause of her strife. “Did you feel like talking about it?”

“No. I mean, yeah, but…” She pursed her lips, shaking her head. “It’s complicated.”

He waited a beat, debating before remarking offhandedly, as if he had no personal stake in the matter, “…I hear that Adrien Agreste is persona non grata around here. Apparently he’s dating that awful Lila girl?”

“Lila freaking Rossi,” Marinette hissed. “I don’t know what the heck is the matter with him. How can he just…? She is worse than awful, Chat Noir. She’s a bully and a liar and—ugh. I don’t even,” she growled. “How can he even stand to let her touch him? He knows what she’s like, and still he…he…” Marinette petered out with another “Ugh!” of frustration.

Chat swallowed hard, guilt wrapping its fingers around his heart and squeezing painfully. “Maybe…Maybe there’s some piece to the puzzle that you’re missing,” he suggested cautiously. “Maybe he has a good reason. Maybe he doesn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” she pouted sullenly, her temper cooling somewhat. “He could stand up for himself and say no for once. He’s always been like this, Chat Noir. He never wants to cause trouble, and he always avoids confrontation. He’s spineless.”

Chat winced, feeling the jab slide clean between his ribs and puncture a lung.

“He just appeases everyone and lets them walk all over him. It makes me sick sometimes to watch him cave without a word. I don’t know what I ever saw in him, and I don’t know why I put my faith in him,” she muttered bitterly.

“Maybe it’s more complicated than you think,” he offered in a flimsy attempt at self-defence. “I’m sorry he let you down, Marinette. You’re totally within your rights to be angry, but you can’t know what’s going on inside his head. Maybe he has a good reason, and you’ll feel bad later for being so harsh on him.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She blew out a long sigh, dropping her arms from his hair to loosely hang around his neck and resting her head on top of his. “I’m just really hurting right now, Chaton. He was the one person I thought I could count on in my struggle with Lila, so I’m feeling utterly betrayed,” she whimpered. “It’s hard to give him the benefit of the doubt when I can’t imagine any circumstance that would compel him to date her.”

Chat closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe through the aching pain in his chest. It killed him to sit there useless while she was hurting—while he was hurting her. But he couldn’t explain himself. She’d insist that he stop, and then what would have been the point of submitting to Lila’s ever-increasing demands over the years?

He had to see this through to the finish.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he whispered helplessly. “I wish I could do something to make it better for you. Know that I would do anything to make it better.”

“Well,” she chuckled halfheartedly, trying to lighten the mood. “You could start by not trying to make me behave rationally and think about things from Adrien’s point of view. It would be easier if I could just demonize him and lash out at him with all of my righteous fury.”

“Sorry to take away your scapegoat,” he laughed weakly.

“Yeah,” she teased, giving his hair a little nuzzle. “Whose side are you on, anyway? Mine or his?”

He twisted around to face her, kneeling at her feet and gazing up at her earnestly. “Yours,” he stressed, desperate for her to believe him. “Yours. Always yours, even when it doesn’t feel like it.”

She blinked at him, taken aback by his vehemence.

Slowly, a warm, genuine smile danced across her lips, and she leaned in to brush a delicate kiss against his forehead. “Thank you.”

His heart nearly exploded as she pulled back and smiled down at him with a soft look that made him think that maybe he had a chance after all.

“Yeah. I mean, yeah. Anytime,” he replied dumbly, struggling to get his brain and his mouth to work in concert. “You’re welcome. Always.”

She laughed—a light, airy sound that made his heart soar—and it was obvious from the smug look on her face that she could tell how smitten he was.

He couldn’t bring himself to care. So what if she knew she had him at her mercy? He trusted her with his heart.

“Wanna play video games?” she inquired, breaking him out of his reverie.

He blinked at her, his brain still scrambled from the memory of her lips against his skin.

“If you have time,” she hastened to add, nerves flaring up at his lack of a response. “I mean, I know you’re busy what with saving Paris and regular life stuff, but…if you weren’t doing anything, I was supposed to be hanging out with my friends tonight, only that’s not happening because Adrien is a traitor, so if you wanted to hang out, play some Smash Brothers, have dinner with me and my family, snuggle on the couch and watch movies…? I could use the company,” she confessed.

“Yes to all of the above,” he replied enthusiastically, finally getting a handle on how his mouth functioned again.

Adrien was still floating on cloud nine when he returned home several hours later.

 Lila had pressured Adrien into agreeing to come up with a romantic surprise for her in response to Adrien’s claim that Nino had been consulting with Adrien about a surprise for Alya the previous day (since Adrien was, allegedly, so good at that kind of thing), and Adrien did not aim to disappoint.

He escorted Lila to her locker where she found beautiful orange lilies inside.

“Oh, Adrien!” Lila squealed, leaping into his arms and giving his cheek a joyful kiss. “They’re beautiful!”

He couldn’t tell if she were just putting on a show or if she were genuinely pleased with the gift.

She was certainly satisfied with the response of the other students as they cooed and raved about how sweet Adrien was, what a cute couple he and Lila made.

Marinette stood apart from the others, looking on in a mix of resentment and pensiveness.

Adrien wondered if she knew anything about the meanings of flowers. If so, she might know that orange lilies were not a nice gift. Perhaps she was wondering if Adrien knew the implications of the flowers he had given his girlfriend.

She caught him gazing at her and turned away, going to her own locker. Once there, she gave a start, a soft gasp escaping her lips when she spotted the sunflowers, tucked inside and waiting for her with a little note attached.

Adrien’s heartbeat quickened a little at the pleased smile gracing her lips and the rosy blush rising in her cheeks.

Alya was the first to notice Marinette’s surprise and draw the attention of the others.

“What’s this, Girl? A secret admirer?” she trilled excitedly.

“Alya, don’t—” barely made it past Marinette’s lips as Alya swiped the card and read aloud, “‘For my Princess. I hope these sunflowers brighten your day, even though they’re not half as radiant as you are. Much love from your not-so-secret admirer.’”

The girls chattered excitedly all at once, completely forgetting about Lila to join in the speculation about Marinette’s mystery boy.

Lila turned a venomous glare on Adrien, hissing dangerously under her breath, “Your ‘Princess’, is she? You did this on purpose to upstage me, didn’t you?”

Adrien frowned, leveraging all of his acting skills to feign wounded innocence. “Hey, I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that. Those flowers aren’t from me.”

Lila’s eyes narrowed, scanning him intently.

“He’s just a friend,” Marinette insisted over the din of her friends. “Just a close friend that I play video games online with. He’s a total flirt. He’s not even serious. He knows I had a rough day yesterday, and he was just trying to cheer me up.”

The girls didn’t seem to buy Marinette’s story entirely, but her persistent denials seemed to mollify all but Alya.

“Oh, Honey. I think he’s serious, even if you’re not,” Alya hummed skeptically, pitying the poor boy who had fallen for her rather oblivious best friend.

The other girls joined in with sympathetic hums of their own.

Adrien turned to Lila. “I feel like you owe me an apology for your accusations of infidelity.”

“How about not?” Lila growled quietly, shoving her books roughly into Adrien’s arms as she continued to seethe over Marinette inadvertently stealing the spotlight.

 The week stretched on with, luckily, only a few minor incidents to mark it.

Marinette continued to hold a grudge against Adrien, but she was more than happy to spend her evenings with Chat Noir.

He was glad that he could help her feel less alone, even if it were just in some small way, and the time he passed with her was a balm for him too.

It was a relief, after dealing with Lila’s ever-increasingly ridiculous demands all day, to cuddle and watch Disney and Studio Ghibli movies with Marinette, to bake cookies together, to play niche video games, or just to sit in her room working on separating things but enjoying the other’s presence.

Nino kept giving Adrien worried glances, looking like he was this close to saying something several times a day.

It made Adrien sick with anxiety.

He shouldn’t have told Nino. It felt like he had the sword of Damocles hanging over his head and never knew when it would drop, when Nino would break his promise and try to tell everyone about Lila, ruining years’ worth of Adrien’s sacrifices and hard work to protect Marinette.

If Nino asked him if he were okay one more time, Adrien was going to cry.

All he could do was lie and say he was fine, all the while knowing that Nino knew he was lying.

“Just don’t say anything to anyone,” Adrien kept repeating, and Nino would nod, assuring, “Yeah. No. I won’t.”

But Adrien could see the way Nino tensed around Lila, how he clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes whenever she invaded Adrien’s personal space or asked him to do things for her.

The week was rough and already wearing Adrien down by the end of it.

He felt sick with guilt over hurting Marinette and sick with fear about when Nino was going to crack and spill the beans. That wasn’t even taking into account the hell Lila was putting him through.

Lila was steadily getting worse. She was growing bolder with her public displays of affection to the point where Adrien was genuinely uncomfortable.

The casual touches and the expectation of cheek kisses had quickly crossed the line. More than anything, he was sick of the sensation of Lila clinging to him. The constant contact and her weight and her warmth made his skin crawl. He couldn’t wait for evening to come so his personal space could be his own again to share (or not share) as he saw fit.

Adrien had always been a little touch-starved, but, now, physical contact was something he found himself recoiling from, sometimes even with Marinette.

On the third day, Lila made Adrien move to the back of the class to sit with her, and it was torture to be separated from his friends. Classes had been a brief reprieve from Lila’s presence, an oasis where he didn’t have to think about her for hours at a time, but, now, even that solace was stolen from him.

He missed passing notes with Nino and the little sweets his best friend would often share.

Adrien had considered it a victory when, the previous year, he’d convinced his father to allow him to eat lunch at school with his friends. Now, he found himself wishing he could go home for lunch again because Lila had gotten it into her head that she needed to sit on Adrien’s lap and that they needed to feed one another to show what a lovey-dovey couple they were.

Adrien was quickly finding that he had little appetite during the day. He scarfed down leftover baked goods from Tom and Sabine’s as well as whatever the Dupain-Chengs had for dinner in the evenings when he visited Marinette, but he couldn’t keep much down during the day.

The smell of Lila’s cloyingly sweet floral perfume made him feel nauseated.

He wasn’t sure how much more he could take, but he was certain that something had to give, and soon.

He was afraid it was going to be him.

Adrien was at his breaking point, so maybe that’s why, when Ladybug asked what was wrong that Sunday on patrol, he gave in so easily and spilled his guts to her.

[starlightsearches]

Someone Else Pt. 2

Hello friends! No official request for this one but a few people did say they’d like to see part two and it kind of just . . . happened ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  Here’s a link to part one if you missed it!

Warnings: Language, infidelity, minor sexual content, threats/violence against the reader, so much angst oh fuck, but a happy ending so i guess it cancels out?

    General Hux stares deeply at his own reflection, searching intently for any hint of this deception. His eyes travel up from the bottom of the mirror, catching the shine of his boots as they pass upwards, scanning his uniform, which—as far as he can tell—is immaculate, without a spot or wrinkle. He checks his face next (blank, impassive) before his eyes roam over his stark red hair—combed back, neat. Not a strand out of place. And yet he can’t escape the feeling deep down in his bones, the one that leaches into his consciousness every time he’s with you and she’s still lurking the back of his mind: everybody knows.

    Hux rolls his eyes and gives up on the hopeless view in the mirror, sliding it back into its hiding place before turning to face you. He needs another set of eyes if he wants to know the truth. “How do I look?” 

His heart stutters again when he meets your gaze—stuttering like it did when your palms brushed over his chest, your nails raking thin red lines into his already flushed skin—and thinking about it is fire in his lungs. You’re still looking disheveled: half-dressed, hair wild, and swiveling back and forth in his chair behind his desk, your feet propped up on the surface—a move that would bother him if it were anyone else but you. A smile crawls slowly across your face, your expression blissful as you respond, “you look very handsome.”

Gods, he’s blushing again. It had taken minutes for the color to drain from his face the first time, but a soft look and compliment from your parted lips and brings it all back, alerting anyone who would look at him to his red-hot shame. 

And when you see it, your smile turns sad.

You drop your feet from off his desk, straightening your own uniform with a little less care than Hux had, your steps tentative as you cross the distance between his desk and where he stands by the door—only a few feet, but it feels like miles when you stop just out of his reach, wrapping your arms around yourself, holding tight . . . like he wants to hold you, again. Hux balls his hands into fists, forcing them to remain at his sides, fighting the urge to brush his fingers over the edge of your lips, trace the delicate skin of your jaw. Peel the uniform from your shoulders and snuff out all of his unease with velvet kisses. Hux silences those desires. After everything he’s put you through, he hardly deserves to breathe the same air. 

You examine him with sharp eyes, willfully ignoring his inner turmoil that he’s sure you notice to focus on the matter at hand. Your inspection yields good results; you meet his eyes again with the slightest frown.

“You look the same as before,” you say, corners of your mouth pulling down further, brows furrowing, “no one will be able to tell.” Hux lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, a mixture of shame and relief filling the empty space in his lungs.

Had he always been such a coward? Hux had never thought of himself as one to give into such base wants, but so far he’s been totally unsuccessful in his attempts to resist you, to bide his time until he’s dealt with the root of the problem. No, he keeps coming back, each time the last time, fucking you in cramped closets and over his desk while she’s warming his bed. Losing himself in the iridescent high of your body and ignoring the sharp pangs of your love that he leaves unopened in your waiting hands. 

Silence hangs, the air full of unsaid things and your lips part—words balanced on the tip of your tongue that would pierce like knives and Hux can’t hear them because it will hurt you to say them, and he’s already caused you so much pain. 

“I have to go,” he says, cutting you off before you get the chance, “Bristol will be back soon.” Her name is out of his mouth before he can think to stop it, and your face falls, a grimace crossing your features that you can’t remove quickly enough. There are tears pricking the corners of your eyes, he thinks, but he’s not close enough to know for sure. He doesn’t step any closer. 

“Alright.” You swallow hard, suck in a deep breath through your nose so that he won’t see you break, but the smile you plaster on your face chips at the corners, and it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’ll be here.” 

The air in the room is stifling, filled with your deafening sadness, all the feelings you try to keep from him because you know it hurts him to see you like this and you care about him so damn much. You care too much. He doesn’t deserve you. 

“This,” he whispers, like if he’s quiet enough he won’t have to hear himself say it either, “can’t happen again.” It’s not the first time he’s said these words to you, but it breaks you just the same. If it goes on for much longer, he’ll never have the chance to put you back together.

“I understand.” You turn towards the back wall, unwilling to let him see you cry—for his sake or yours, though, he’s not sure. 

Hux leaves without saying goodbye.  

No one gives him a second glance when he steps out of his office doors and into the commotion of the bridge; his worries were unfounded, just as the rational part of him knew they would be. Still, the guilt only grows as he moves through the halls of the Finalizer, on his way to greet his wife.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. After the wedding, after that night in his office when you had kissed him for the first time and everything felt right, he had made plans—how to rid himself of Bristol and Pryde, plans to keep you at his side, love you the way you deserved to be loved. Plans that had crumbled like dust between his fingers the second he stepped foot off the transport to the Alfospar system.

He couldn’t explain it at that time, the way his resolve shriveled like paper in water when he first saw that gleaming city, the towers and spires of the royal home so different from the sleek, black halls of the Finalizer, towers and spires that Bristol had walked her entire life. Now he knows what caused it: the fear that gripped his heart. Not just fear. Inadequacy. He had looked to his new wife, saw the haughty determination in her features as she surveyed the grand palace with a look of utmost boredom, and he hated her. But he hated himself even more knowing that she was capable in ways he could never dream. She was born to rule. He had done everything imaginable to earn that kind power, and still he came short.

The two weeks in the palace passed in a color-leeched blur. Hux attended meetings. He met Bristol’s family. They consummated the marriage. And he never stopped thinking about you.

When he returned to the ship, he made new plans, plans to remove his heart with surgical precision, plans that would leave him empty and miserable for the rest of his life but would save you from him.

Those plans had crumbled, too, the moment you whispered in the darkness of your quarters, “I missed you, did you miss me?” and he had been too selfish to lie. That was the first time he had fallen into your arms, let you drown out his pain without any concern for your own.

His father had been right all along. Hux is spineless. Everyone else managed to see it. He wonders how he had you fooled for so long.

                 ______________________________

    You’re having trouble adjusting to the quiet. It’s a feat of engineering, really—a true testament to his genius—that the general’s office manages to be quieter than a grave despite the teeming world of the bridge that lives just outside it. It had been the quiet that had first made his office such an appealing location for these meetings. That, and no one would question your presence here.

    You had been careful from the beginning—given no indication of the affair, raised no suspicion, and had been ready to smother any rumor that might have spread. There was never a need for that kind of action; you covered your tracks. But sitting here in this demonic silence, you want to ruin it all. Turn every touch and kiss and loving look into a song, a battle cry. A death sentence. You want everyone to know what you’ve done. Maybe then you’d feel something.

    Your cheeks are sticky with long-dried tears, and you try to brush them off with a sleeve, a brittle laugh escaping your lips thinking back to the day of the wedding. At the time, you had believed your heart to be broken. What a fool you used to be. How little you had known about how it feels to set your heart gently into someone else’s waiting hands and then watch them shatter it.

    You stand from the chair abruptly, cutting off the image before it takes root in your mind. There’s no time for self-pity when you have work to do.

    You grab your data pad from where you left it on his desk, turning the screen face you. Your heart jumps a little in your chest when you see the messages light up the screen, but you’re left feeling sour. None of them are from him. 

    He did that sometimes, after he left you—occasionally sent an apology, told you that he hadn’t really meant what he’d said. Sometimes he wanted to see you again, already, and you’d go searching for whatever conference room or closet he had commandeered, the warmth pooling between your legs erasing any of the harsh feelings from the moments before. 

    But no message this time. Maybe he had meant it. Maybe he didn’t want you like he thought you did. Maybe he never had.

    You’re sure, now, that the uncertainty will eat you alive, burst from your chest like some grotesque thing and feast on every part of you, rip and tear and bite until it’s sated and you’re left in pieces. You wish it would. Death is better than waiting. 

There’s a gentle beep from your data pad, and you look down again, distracted momentarily from your spiraling. It’s an urgent alert, from one of the admirals. They need your help interpreting some notes the general gave them on a recent project proposal. 

You stop just before the doorway, taking in three deep breaths, letting the cool air wash away the fire of your thoughts. There would be time later to ruin yourself over this mess, when sleep evaded you in the late hours of the night cycle. For now, duty calls.

You move through the bridge with ease, reading the messages you had missed. Your eyes scan them with practiced precision, sorting them by urgency and responding to the ones you can take care of quickly as you journey deeper into the ship. It doesn’t take long for you to get lost in the process, the dark tiles passing underneath your feet unnoticed as you lose yourself in your work.

The sound of footsteps in the otherwise empty hallway pulls you out of your trance, and you look up briefly, more out of a passing curiosity rather than any real interest. Your heart grows cold when you catch her eyes, and the feeling spreads like ice over a body of water.

“Hello, your highness,” you try to keep any tension out of your voice as you address Bristol with a small bow, skirting around her in the hallway in your best attempt to avoid her sustained notice. Her eyes narrow when they focus on you, and the cold feeling shatters, the dread climbing up your legs like the water level rising in a sinking vessel.

“You,” there’s venom in her voice, a kind of hatred you never thought you’d inspire in anyone and you feel every barb of it when she latches on to you, gripping your upper arm with such strength that you can feel the indentations of her nails through the fabric of your uniform. 

The wall of the hallway meets your spine as you step back, your attempted escape only leaving you trapped, chest heaving as she stares you down like a predator. It’s clear in every aspect of her being that she’s ravenous.

“Well?” she snaps, and you flinch, the durasteel biting your shoulder blades as you try to gain as much distance as you can from her, straining every muscle in your body for any kind of relief, but she won’t let you take it, pressing you into the wall. “Where is he?”

    “I’m not sure where the general is right now, your highness,” you speak slowly, trying to gauge the direction of her anger, “I was under the impression that he’d gone to find you.”

    The moments pass in deathly silence, and the waiting stretches each second into a lifetime, but there’s nothing comprehensible in her expression. She’s wild, animalistic, the same fierceness you’ve seen in her as a leader now morphed into something frenzied and feral. It’s only a moment before it's lost, replaced with something extinguished and icy. Her grip on your arm tightens.

    “I know you’ve been fucking my husband.”

    You plunge into whatever depths she’s created for you, the shock of it short-wiring your brain and all you can do is gape at her, your mind refusing to form a single thought, let alone any string of words that might convince her to believe a lie. It’s too late anyway; your expression tells her everything she needs to know.

    “How dare you? Embarrassing me like this? I could end your life right here, and he’d have your replacement in his office tomorrow morning.” Each threat brings her closer until you can only see her in fragments—the corner of her mouth as she spits these vile words, the flash of fire in the depths of her eyes. Your heart rate spikes, a rush of adrenaline flooding your veins but your thoughts are still unfocused, without form or direction. Would she really kill you here, now? The look on her face tells you that she might.

    You struggle uselessly against her grip, but she’s got you pinned—one hand on your shoulder and a knee at your hip. Your body goes still when you feel the whisper of metal at your throat. You didn’t know she had a blade.

    “Gods, you’re just as pathetic as he is,” she laughs, quick and sharp, and the weapon quivers—you feel the gentle sting as it parts the first layers of your skin. The sting brightens as she pushes the blade further, leaning in close to whisper her parting words, “maybe you deserve each other.”

    A flurry of movement clouds your vision, and the pressure lifts; in the periphery of your thoughts you can hear the blade clatter to the ground. Your knees threaten to buckle as you lean more heavily against the wall, trying to find the source of your salvation.

The general is there, but as unlike himself as you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a storm, towering over her, shaking with rage. Like a force of nature—it’s the kind of anger you’ve never seen in him before.

Time stops. Understanding crashes into you. It's like you've been blindfolded, without even knowing it, and the covering has given way to an astonishing brightness when you first comprehend what this action means. The realization staggers you.

"You don't-" he can hardly get the words out as he seethes at Bristol, speaking through clenched teeth, "don't ever-"

Bristol quivers, aghast, and it seems that she, too, is seeing her husband with new eyes.

The hallway is filled with loud, echoey beats of a heart, and you're not sure who it belongs to. It strikes you, this sudden fear that someone might be watching these events unfold, that it might be their heart making these sounds, alerting you to their presence. You search the corridor, whipping your head from side to side but there are no prying eyes, no silent watchers, and your heart settles minutely.

You turn back to the general, wondering how he'll react to the news, but his eyes are only on you.

Bristol pulls herself from Hux's grasp and the tension reshapes itself as her mood shifts again, haughty as ever.

"So," she looks between you and the general, and as much as she'd like to hide it, her anger is not gone, "you've chosen the little whore. Interesting."

Hux ignores her statement, still watching you.

"I won't stand for this," Bristol goes shrill now, attempting to pull his attention but his eyes are locked in place and you burn under his gaze. He wants something from you, a confirmation, you realize. He wants to know that you're alright.

You nod—still hesitant, not entirely sure that this is what he's asking for—and only then does he look away, turning back to Bristol with a stare so cold you feel the chill. 

“The next breath you use to threaten anyone on this ship will be your last,” Hux speaks with an authority you’ve never heard him use around Bristol and she flinches, like she’s been slapped, “and you will stay away from my . . . assistant.” 

His eyes flash to yours again, full of unsaid things—a kind of apology for this lapse in language, but you understand perfectly. There are no words to describe what he means to you, either. 

Bristol laughs, one short barking sound, and you know she means to demoralize him, but Hux stands firm, unaffected. “You think you can scare me with empty threats? I’m sorry to say that I’m unimpressed. If only your father were here to see this-”

“But my father isn’t here,” Hux interrupts her, “he’s dead. Because I ordered it. And you should know,” he steps closer to her, his voice a deadly whisper, and she shrinks, “my threats are never empty.”

Bristol quivers slightly, unable to hide her fear and you don’t blame her. She gives up on threatening the general and looks to you instead, her eyes flashing with one last weak attempt to intimidate you before she stalks off, leaving the corridor empty. 

You search for something—anything—to say, your mouth gaping open as the general turns to look at you, but there’s nothing, your mind blank and empty of any feelings small enough to be condensed into a few words. 

There’s no need to shrink your feelings; before you can say anything, Hux has bridged the distance between you, pulling you into his arms with more force than you thought possible. It’s both suffocating and liberating—your lungs struggling for their next breath but your mind is euphoric when you can feel the press of him against you.

He has a hand around your waist, one cupped against the back of your head, and you can feel his whispered apologies as they brush against your hairline, followed by the slow drag of his lips. A low thrill crawls over your skin. How long had it been since he said he’d never touch you again? You’d live through that pain a thousand times if it meant you could experience this.

“Are you alright?” he pulls away slightly, just enough that he can look at you, the pad of his gloved thumb wiping away the thin streak of blood left by Bristol’s blade. His touch ghosts along the injury, but you still feel the sting, unable to hide the way you wince in response.

His thumb stills as soon as he catches the flicker of pain, and there’s deep fountains of regret pooling in his eyes, a sadness so complete you can’t fathom it.

“I’m- I’ll never be able to say,” he swallows, pulls in a shuddering breath, and you feel his hands threaten to part from you but you only hold him tighter, anchoring him to you, “how sorry I am for the way I’ve treated you.” 

The anguish spills over, and he’s crying in your arms a second time, quick tremors shaking his shoulders. You can’t collect the tears fast enough, brushing them away with shaking hands, silencing his fears with soft whispers.

“I love you,” he says through hiccuped speech, “and I always have. And, if you’ll have me-” you silence his doubts with a searing kiss. For you, there has never been—never could be—anyone else.

[funkymbtifiction]

ENTP with some Fe troubles...

Hey Charity! ENTP (30/F) here. I’m wondering if you have any advice for building tert-Fe confidence. […] But when it’s interpersonal conflict? I just cave immediately. If someone says I did something bad? I just immediately believe them, regardless of context… and it’s not until later that I think about how I might not have been in the wrong at all, and kick myself for not standing up for myself. […] At that point I just froze up, apologized profusely (even though I didn’t understand what I did wrong), said a few self-deprecating things and left as fast as possible. Even though I new logically that we had a totally drama-free relationship where my worst crime was just not being very into it (and acknowledging that and breaking up), I still took all the blame. All of it. I didn’t do anything wrong, she was just heartbroken and sad and couldn’t find the words to say that she just wasn’t ready to be friends yet. […] My default reaction when someone says I’ve done something wrong is just to agree no matter what because I’m so scared about keeping the peace in the moment. But the thing is, I KNOW this isn’t healthy. Not only is it self-deprecating. It also doesn’t solve the conflict. […] Do you have any theories from a typology perspective about why I turn into such a panic-attacky, spineless mess when things get personal? Why does my philosophy of “it’s about getting to the truth of the matter - not who wins or loses” melt away when it gets personal? Shouldn’t it all just be the same principle? I mean, conflict is conflict, after all? Thanks! (also as an aside, I believe my Enneagram is 738, if that helps)

It’s somewhat normal for a thinking type to be ‘out of their depth’ when confronted by a feeler’s emotional outburst, but there’s a few things in play here to be mindful of.

Obviously, you look at things in terms of future prospects (Ne) and logic (T). You saw no future in the relationship, so you decided to leave it. ESFJs see things in terms of emotions / “us as a couple” (Fe) and on a sensory, present-now level (S). Where you looked forward and saw no benefit, the ESFJ is living in the moment and since it seemed to be going well, didn’t see a problem, because they don’t look forward in the same way you do. Her reversal of being fine with being broken up was appeasing you in the moment (Fe) and then later, she probably got to feeling hurt, thinking about what happened, wondering what went wrong (low Ti), and wound up blaming you (again Fe) as the source of the ‘problem’ here (whether or not there was one, and it doesn’t sound as if there was). EFJs usually consider themselves to be good and lovable people, so when someone decides to ‘opt out’ of a relationship for what they think is ‘no reason’ – the tendency to assume you are the problem, since you hurt their feelings.

You are correct in that you did nothing wrong; no one is obligated to stay with anyone if there isn’t a ‘spark’ or a future. However, on to the real problem here—you tendency to ‘give in.’

I’ll try and be gentle, but this is not the behavior of a 738. That is one of the more aggressive, dominant tritypes and 8 fixers do not, under any circumstances, cave and tell people whatever they want to hear out of fear of conflict.

I suspect you are a core 9; you become anxious about conflict, over-apologize, and “do not stand up for myself” only to feel frustration later for “being a doormat.” That’s 9. Core 7s don’t ever want to admit to their own flaws. They squirm, they argue, they rationalize, they give you reasons why you are wrong about them and this is not their fault, and they can be bratty while doing this – and here you are accepting the responsibility of having hurt the relationship, over-apologizing, and taking the blame to avoid conflict, which is extremely 9.

9s and 7s can be mistaken for each other, since they are both positive, optimistic, good-natured, and seek to engage themselves in pleasant distractions. But the 9 doesn’t want conflict or ‘separation’ from people and can become anxious about a fight, and the 7 would just… pack up their gear, run away, and ghost someone while telling themselves they’re headed for greener pastures. Your method is the former, not the latter. You could have a 7 fix, but it seems like avoidance of conflict and keeping things “drama free” (the desire of a 9) is your main method of operation. You need to work on the growth patterns for a 9, in learning to tolerate conflict (and not see it as threatening), in learning to not tell people what they want to hear, or agree with them when you are not to blame, and in asserting yourself more often with the realization that, to you, what seems like an ‘argument’ to other types might be a slight increase of vocal tone.

It’s hard for all the types to grow, but for 9s especially to recognize that they deserve to have their own ‘space’ in the world and defend it. I have a 9 fix of my own and also hate conflict (doubly so because of 6 and 9) so I understand the hot flush of anxiety that comes over a person when someone else is upset with them – but you have to slowly learn to take a deep breath and defend yourself and remember innocence in others’ feelings. The more you do it, the easier it becomes. Resist the urge to just ‘merge into’ and ‘agree’ with the other person, since they are actively taking you over and forcing blame upon you that isn’t yours to bear.

[abraxos-is-toothless]

I have a fic request, pretty please! Andreil (ofc!) Anyway Neil not answering his phone (cuz it died, again, oops) and Andrew losing his shit and hunting him down!

Okay it’s 2am and this is finally, finally being posted. It should have gone up like a week ago but Tumblr wouldn’t let me answer asks at the time. I’ve changed this around so many times and I don’t know if this is what you were hoping for but I tried my best! I tweaked it a little too, so sorry.

Full Masterlist.

—————

This is Josten, I don’t want to talk to you so don’t leave a message.

This is Josten, I don’t want to talk to you so don’t leave a message.

Andrew had now called Neil’s phone about twenty fucking times and he still hadn’t answered; he always answered when Andrew called him. Everyone was in the lounge at the court since it had been at least four hours since anyone had heard from him. Nicky was almost in tears, Dan and Matt looked like they were two seconds away from calling in a search party and of course Aaron the asshole looked like he didn’t care that Neil was missing. Abby was tucked underneath Coach’s arm, her face etched with worry and taking comfort from the man. It was about fucking time they got their shit together. The man in question cleared his throat just when Andrew was about to leave and search the campus himself. “Minyard sit the fuck down, we will find him we just have to piece some things together first.”

All he did was sneer at the command but stayed nonetheless. He was itching to pull out his knives and bury them in something but Renee gave him a look as if she knew exactly what he was thinking and she shook her head at him. Nicky really was crying now and Andrew had to force himself not to roll his eyes. Yes they all cared about Neil, they were all his family, but with the reactions they were giving it was like they expected the worst. Andrew could not think like that, wouldn’t think like that because even though he hated when the idiot said it, he had to believe that Neil was fine.

“Who was the last person to see him?” Allison spoke up from the other side of the room, and so now it looked like she was getting worried. When they’d first gathered here it had only been an hour and she figured he’d turn up in the next few minutes. Oh how wrong she was. Matt forced out an answer, his leg bouncing non-stop, just like it had been after the riot two years ago and Neil had been taken to Baltimore.

“Uh I did. We walked to our first class together after morning practice.” Well that didn’t really help because the junkie had his Spanish class right after that one and then he usually went on his run after that. No one would have seen him at Fox Tower after that, because no one else was free. Actually that was wrong because-

“He was talking in Japanese. He was talking in fucking Japanese.” Because the coward that was Kevin Day had one of his classes cancelled and he’d told everyone he’d go back to the dorms and figure out a new drill they could do, not that anyone really cared. Before he could do a repeat performance of choking Kevin out, Renee was on him in a flash, restraining him from any movement. When Kevin turned to look at Andrew, he’d gone as white as a sheet, as if he realised what he’d just said and visibly swallowed. Andrew was going to kill him, and then bury his body where nobody would find it. Just as soon as the good Christian girl let go of him.

“What the fuck do you mean he was talking in Japanese, Day?” Andrew’s voice was low and smooth, promising a whole lot of pain if Kevin didn’t respond in the way he was expected to. The spineless coward looked around the room at the foxes, eyes lingering on his father, before turning back to Andrew and wringing his hands in front of him.

“When I got back to the dorms, Neil was already there. I was going to ask him if he wanted to help me come up with new drills and plays when I heard it. He didn’t sound like he normally did, it was like he was someone else and was talking in whispered Japanese like he was worried about someone hearing him.”

The fucking stupid asshole.

He was dealing with Moriyama bullshit and hadn’t even bothered to tell Andrew. They had agreed on no more lies, to trust one another. Looks like Andrew had made a mistake on that front but really, it was bound to happen. That was a lie, Neil was most likely in meltdown mode and had forgotten he had people who could help him now. Nicky was hysterical now and started yelling at Kevin, tears falling down his cheeks. “Well you speak Japanese too dickwad, what the fuck was he actually saying or are you going to wait another four hours to tell us that?”

“I don’t know what he was talking about! There were a few quick ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers and an ‘of course’ but he wasn’t actually giving information. He probably didn’t want to get into trouble.”

Oh Andrew was going to enjoy being responsible for the death of the great Kevin Day. Just as he was about to fight Renee to get to him, the sound of the door opening pushed through his senses and he swivelled to see Neil walk into the room. Nicky gave a cry of relief, getting onto his feet and joining Matt as they ran over to fuss over the redhead. Neil tried meeting Andrew’s gaze and smile, but all he could do was glare at the sight of those piercing blues. Andrew was quite angry with him, and he’d soon find that out. Wymack was also quite angry by the looks of it, arms now crossed over his chest and a face like thunder. “Where in the actual fuck have you been, Josten? And don’t give me any of your usual bullshit because it’s not going to be good enough.”

Andrew watched Neil gently extricate himself from his cuddly giants and sighed as he looked around the room at everyone. It was Wymack who’d asked for answers yes, but Neil didn’t look at anyone other than Andrew, as if it was just the two of them.

“Ichirou called. He wanted an update on his assets and to make sure we weren’t doing anything stupid. He also wanted to reiterate what would happen if we didn’t manage to attract pro teams that weren’t to his liking. I told him that he wouldn’t be let down.”

Aaron piped up for the first time since they’d all walked into the court hours ago. “It’s been literal hours Josten, a text to say ‘I’m still alive, unfortunately’ would have been great. I’ve wasted my whole day.”

“I know how long it’s been, jackass.” Neil snapped, glaring daggers into Aaron’s skull. Andrew was still vibrating with anger and couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Everyone get the fuck out.” When they all just stared at him, not moving, he emphasised his point by unsheathing a knife and giving a firm, “Now.”

Nicky and Kevin moved like lightning and were the first to leave. Allison smirked for some stupid reason, winking at Neil as she strode out of the room. Matt and Dan looked weary but still left, Aaron on their heels. Renee gave them both gentle smiles and nodded her head. Wymack gave Neil a stern look like he wanted to say more but thought better of hit, rubbing his forehead and mumbling about being ‘too old for this shit’. Abby gave Neil a few motherly touches, which the redhead flinched away from for the first time in a long time, and then she too was gone.

Now that they were alone Neil tried explaining with an, “Andrew I...” but he trailed off, seemingly lost for words. He didn’t have a chance to think of anything else before Andrew flung himself at his stupid junkie, fists gripping at Neil’s- no Andrew’s –t-shirt and burying his head into his chest. He smelt of apples and sweetness and god, Andrew felt like he could finally fucking breathe.

“You didn’t answer your fucking phone. Why didn’t you answer the phone?” Neil’s arms moved, one wrapping around Andrew’s waist the other holding the back of his neck, keeping him against his chest.

“Ichirou had a few extra words before the call ended. He said he was ‘sorry for my loss’. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about at first but then I remembered. It’s the anniversary of mom’s death. I turned my phone off after and just ran. I came back when I turned my phone back on and saw the missed calls.”

As much as he hated Mary Hatford, he knew why Neil still mourned her sometimes. He was slowly beginning to understand that what his mother had done to him was wrong, that she had abused him for years, but she was all he had known and was the only safe thing for him. He hated it but kept quiet, not wanting to get into an argument on the matter right now. “Just let me know you’re alright next time. Kevin heard your call, heard the Japanese. I thought, I thought...”

Neil suddenly cupped his face in his scarred hands, tilting his head back so they were looking at each other, before leaning in to press their foreheads together. “I’m right here ‘Drew and I’m not going to disappear again. I’m right here.”

The kiss that followed was soft, gentle and slow, so unlike them but it was what they needed just then. They need to be able to feel everything and to be able to feel each other. Andrew didn’t want to let go, he wanted to stay and kiss Neil until his lips went numb but exhaustion was a bitch. He pulled back, looking at Neil’s lips which were swollen from their kisses and he had a pretty red flush that had blossomed on his cheeks.

“Come on, let’s go. I’m hungry and you owe me ice cream after what you just pulled.” Neil just laughed and nodded, taking one of Andrew’s hands in his own and linking their fingers together, walking them both towards the door.

“Whatever you want ‘Drew, whatever you want and I’ll give it to you.”

—————

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[one-leaf-grimoire]

chapter 7

chapter 7 of my medieval AU fic. Things are about to go down uh oh 0.0

Ft. my friend @fuegoleonvermillion 's OC Sei!

AO3 link

Eventually, Lisa pulled herself back out of bed and to the bathroom, where she splashed a healthy amount of water onto her face. She didn’t want to look at her reflection, so she just hoped that her eyes weren’t too red before turning to leave for dinner. Her mind was still swirling with troubled thoughts, although by now the crescendo had dwindled down to a dull, bitter tang on the back of her tongue.

I hope to god I’m just overthinking all this, she thought to herself, wiggling the fingers of her encased arm as she walked. I probably just need to eat. And anyway, I get to see Julius again tomorrow. It’s the perfect time to bring up that sort of worry…

But at the same time, what if addressing the matter just brought the end along more quickly? That was the last thing Lisa wanted. With a groan, she paused outside the mess hall, squeezing her eyes shut briefly in an attempt to recenter her emotions. For now… just don’t think about it. Try and have a relaxing night, and look forward to tomorrow.

With that, her eyes popped back open, her usual smile on her lips. With a newfound spring in her step, Lisa used her shoulder to push the door open, ready for dinner.

That’s right… I get to see him tomorrow!

Lisa’s eyes fell upon the occupants of the mess hall, and for some reason, she stopped walking. Fuegoleon was there, Sei by his side as usual, with a few other squad members huddled around them. Standing before the Captain was a knight, wearing the cloak of the prestigious Golden Dawn squad. Huh? What is he doing here-

“What do you mean, the King is missing? Explain!”

Fuegoleon’s demand cut Lisa’s thoughts off.

The Golden Dawn knight, panting and clearly out of breath, sucked in air through his nose before repeating his message for the whole room to hear.

“King Julius was kidnapped about an hour ago! Enemy intruders were spotted in the castle, but it was too late; he was taken! We think they headed northeast!”

Lisa didn’t move, she didn’t really react either. She just stood there, silently, the color slowly but surely draining from her face.

“Dear god…” Fuegoleon looked around at the other Crimson Lions before turning back to the messenger. “You’re positive?”

Sei’s gaze landed on Lisa for a moment. His eyes didn’t narrow dubiously like they often did; Lisa could pick up flecks of sympathy in their golden depths.

Oh… oh god…

“Sei!” The vice-captain’s attention was pulled back to Fuego, who now had a resolute expression. “Gather our best knights, we’re going to go find these enemies and get King Julius back!”

“Wait! I have orders from Captain Vangeance!”the messenger piped up. “He sent me to bring you and your men to the castle; he wants to devise a plan.”

“A plan? But, we should strike now!” Fuegoleon objected. “You said the enemies headed northeast? That would lead them close to our squad!”

“I can’t allow you to do that,” the messenger insisted, looking a bit scared. “You can take it up with Captain Vangeance when we reach the castle.”

After a long, intense moment, Fuegoleon let out a sigh. “Fine. Sei, come on, gather the senior knights.” There wasn’t much they could do; William Vangeance, being the leader of the best squad, was the one who led the military when Julius was unable to. And this was one of those times. An order from him was as powerful as an order from the king himself.

“Right.” Sei turned to leave, noting that Lisa was no longer standing in the doorway.

A few minutes later, the party was suited up, heading to the stables to ride to the castle. They’re having us wait all this time before even beginning our pursuit? Fuegoleon thought to himself, furrowing his brow. It seems unwise… it may already be too late. Who knows what brought this abduction on, but Lord Julius is a good man! I won’t let anyone harm him!

He was suddenly distracted as he noticed that Sei had stopped walking, lagging behind a bit. “Sei? What’s wrong?” Fuegoleon turned to look at him, concern on his face.

Sei pointed at one of the stalls. Normally, there would be a horse there, but it was empty. Realization hit Fuegoleon all at once. “Hold on, that’s-”

“Lisa’s horse. It’s gone.” Sei gulped, furrowing his brow before turning to Fuegoleon. “I’m going to have to split from you guys… I can’t explain now, but I think Lisa might have done something supremely stupid.”

Fuegoleon was confused, and now fear struck in his heart at Sei’s words. Lisa? In danger? What is she doing that’s so stupid? I don’t understand! He wanted nothing more than to press further, but he knew Sei well enough to read his tone of voice. Gulping nervously, Fuegoleon gave his husband a nod. “Alright… I trust you. Whatever she’s doing, get her to safety.”

“I will, don’t worry. Don’t get too bored at that ‘meeting.’” Sei leaned up just enough to press a kiss to Fuegoleon’s cheek, a quick yet reassuring gesture. I’ll take care of it. Worry about yourself, my love.

……………………………..

The first sensation to register in Julius’s mind was the sound of crackling flame. It was dull at first, but grew in intensity along with a piercing pain in his temples. With a groan, he shifted, hearing dirt grind under his uncomfortable body.

… where am I?

Slowly, his eyes blinked open, revealing the hazy world. It was dark, the only light coming from a campfire a few meters away. People were huddled around it, as if it would protect them from the forest surrounding them.

… that’s right… I was kidnapped… that waiter looked so familiar…

It was all coming back to him now. Panicking, Julius sat up, only to realize that his ankles and wrists were bound tightly. He strained for a moment, wincing as the rope rubbed painfully into his skin.

“Ah, look who’s awake! I forgot how badly you snored, Captain.”

Captain?

Julius looked up to see a figure approaching him, their face shadowed. They came to a stop a few feet away, their golden eyes glinting in the firelight.

“You slept like a baby. And I wouldn’t try to escape those bindings, I’m pretty good with knots.”

“Who are you? And what do you want?” Julius asked, keeping his voice level. He was scared, yes; anyone would be in this situation. But he was very good at keeping calm in the midst of fear, as he faced many treacherous situations on the battlefield years ago.

The figure chuckled. Recognition flickered in the back of Julius’s mind. “I’m hurt, captain… I looked up to you so much, and yet you can’t even remember me? That’s sad…”

Captain? Should I recognize him?

Julius narrowed his eyes. At that moment, the fire flared up a bit, casting light onto his captor’s face. It was just a moment, yet it was enough to pour the memories back into Julius’s mind

“...P-Patri?!”

The man’s smile fell, but Julius knew he was right. Despite everything that was happening and the danger he was in… Julius couldn’t help but feel a resounding relief in his soul. Patri narrowed his eyes. “What are you smiling about?”

“Oh…” Julius shook his head, blinking a few times as everything sunk in, “Nothing… just… I’m glad to see you alive, Patri.”

The annoyed look on patri’s face quickly morphed into one of rage at Julius’s statement.

“...how DARE you!”

Without warning, the man yelled his words, as if he were hurling knives at Julius.

“After everything you’ve done, you’re glad to see me alive?” Patri gave a half-hearted, mirthless chuckle. “Well, I wish you cared this much when I was kidnapped off the battlefield! But you didn’t give half a shit then, did you?”

Julius winced, the details of their shared past coming back to him more clearly now. He didn’t know what to say to his former comrade; whatever he thought about the situation, Patri was clearly more upset than he could imagine. And probably rightfully so.

“Patri… I thought you were dead. We all did. I mean- When someone goes missing on the battlefield like that-”

“Julius, we both know that the Diamond Kingdom doesn’t kill their prisoners of war. At least not quickly. You… you have no idea what I’ve been through.”

The fire flickered again, those sitting around it absolutely silent as Patri continued to speak. Julius’s eyes widened as, for the first time, he saw Patri’s whole face. It was familiar to him; a face he had first seen when Patri was just a boy, joining the squad along with William, Yami, and all the others. Julius had been proud to call himself their captain, and when they lost Patri, he was devastated.

But… I didn’t lose him, did I? I gave up on him…

He could still remember William’s plea.

“Please, Sir Julius… please let me go save him!”

One of Patri’s sclera was black, burned by some painful means. The fire died down, casting the man’s face back in shadow.

Julius’s shoulders slumped, and he could no longer look Patri in the eye. His gaze fell to his feet, his eyes dulling.

“....I’m sorry. I truly am... “

Patri shook his head a little before backing away towards the campfire again. “In any case, that’s not why I’m here… not entirely. Despite being unable to save little ol’ me, you, the elite Mighty Stag, managed to decimate many of the Diamond Kingdom’s best forces. They hold a grudge as well, so in exchange for my freedom, I promised to bring you to them.”

Julius’s blood ran cold. Shit! That’s not good. “Wait! Patri-” Julius called out before he could leave. “You’re already safe here; I can protect you!” He gave the younger man a smile. “Let me make up my sins! I promise-”

“No.” Patri smiled to himself, glad to see Julius shut up. “I made a promise too.”

“Yes- a promise to the kingdom who captured and tortured you!” Julius cut in. An emotion Julius couldn’t quite place flashed through Patri’s eyes. “If not me, come back for William! For yami! For everyone who cares about you! We’ll protect you!”

“NO!”

Patri whipped back around angrily, but the look on his face, although brief, was unmistakable:

Fear.

“I can’t go back on this promise. I’m not a spineless lier like you. So… just wait. We’ll continue our journey at daybreak.”

Without another word, Patri stalked away to his new comrades, leaving Julius alone to curl up and try to sleep in the dirt.

…………………………………………….

Daybreak came quickly. The forest was quiet, unfortunately, the only sounds being that of the birds’ morning choir.

“Come on… there has to be something… some kind of clue…”

Lisa’s eyes darted around the trees as she trudged through the undergrowth, one hand holding onto the reins of her horse and the other fidgeting uncomfortably within her cast. She had a feeling that she would be able to take it off any day now. It was getting too itchy to bear. But in a pinch, she knew she could throw it off and charge into battle if needed.

So far, her search had yielded no clues. All she had to go on were her own instincts and the directions given by the messenger yesterday. The night had been a long one, and eventually she got so tired that she was forced to tie up her horse and curl up in an uncomfortable patch of weeds. Even then, she found it hard to sleep.

Julius…

Lisa’s hand had tightened on the handle of her Rapier.

I have to save him… I have to! Even if I’m the only one fighting, I’ll save him!

She didn’t know why Julius was taken, or who she found be fighting, but the mere thought of never seeing him again made every bone in her body hurt.

I can’t… lose him…

Her feet hurt, her head throbbed, and her horse was getting more and more resistant to her lead. But Lisa pressed on, determined to find Julius.

“Hey. Fancy seeing you out here.”

Lisa screamed in surprise and whirled around to see none other than Sei a few meters away. Despite being on his own horse, he had made virtually NO noise when he approached. Lisa gulped, coming down from her shock. “Sei! W-What are you doing out here?”

“I should be asking that to you.” Sei came to a stop next to her before gracefully dismounting. “Seriously… are you in a hurry to die?”

“...no,” Lisa mumbled, looking away awkwardly. “It’s just- no one else was going to do anything! I thought it would help if someone went ahead to scout out the trail, even if it was just me-”

Sei rolled his eyes. “Cut the crap Lisa… we both know that’s not true.”

Lisa blinked a few times, her heart pounding faster and faster. What? What does that mean? Sei-

“You and Lord Julius… you’ve been seeing each other ever since he showed up at our celebration, right?”

The words hit Lisa like a freight train. Her face immediately heated up, turning a shade more befitting of a tomato. “HUH?! Er- Sie!! Why on earth would you think that- haha- I don’t even remember that night!!! Me and the KING?! That’s dumb and stupid! Poo poo! AHAH uhh yeah that’s not what’s happening-”

“Ah, I see. I’m right.” Sei smirked to himself, Lisa immediately shutting her mouth and glaring at the ground. “I can’t say I approve… but we can’t change anything now. Come on.”

Lisa looked up as Sei brushed past her, pointing up ahead.

“I smell a campfire. It’s been out for an hour at most. Who would be camping way out here?”

It took Lisa a moment that Sei wasn’t going to press the issue any further. She turned to follow him with her eyes for a moment. Wait… is he…

“You’re helping me?”

Sei paused, then looked back at his junior with a determined smile on his face.

“Of course. I’m out here anyway, and you’re right, it’s best to scout this area for clues first. Come on, let's save the King.”

Lisa quickly matched his grin, picking up the pace to walk by his side and press ahead into the unknown.

[blackkatmagic]

Omg!! First, can't believe you wrote that one shot so quickly. Second, that was so cute and lovely and heartwarming, my heart is mush. They'd be so good for each other!!!! And Doom/Jon!!! I feel a bit for Doom, having a crush on this oblivious Jedi. Just wondering, what do the clones under Jon's command think of Jon and Ahsoka?

“Sir,” Doom says patiently, “the meeting is this way.”

His general pauses, halfway to what Doom is generously going to assume is the hallway, but is actually probably the closest window. The guilty duck of his head isn't promising where his actual attendance is concerned, but honestly once he’s in the room he’s out of Doom’s hands, so Doom just has to get him there.

There is also, potentially, the fact that if he doesn’t stay in the meeting room Jon won't be stuck with General Kenobi, and Doom can only consider that a plus.

“Right,” Jon says, faintly miserable at being forced into social interaction that isn't with his padawan, and waits for Doom to fall into step with him before he reluctantly turns away from the window and lets himself be led towards the assembled clone commanders waiting on their Jedi. A few turn, looking at them, and Jon ducks his head and lets his hood fall forward over his face a little more, hiding.

Doom hasn’t quite figured out if he’s hiding the scars or hiding himself yet, but he’s working on it.

“Ahsoka?” Jon asks, quiet, and Doom chuckles.

“She left with General Unduli’s padawan,” he says. “I think they were talking about sweets.”

Jon sighs, like he doesn’t indulge his padawan at every turn, or cave as soon as she smiles at him. When he first saw that, Doom had worried a little that he’d be dealing with a spoiled brat as a commander, and a spineless general, but for all Jon's gentleness with his student, he’s a firm teacher and a brutal fighter, and Doom’s worries have been entirely put to rest.

“She’s going to get into trouble,” Jon mutters, “and then Master Luminara will complain about bad influences.”

“If the commander gets into trouble, she can get herself out of it,” Doom reminds him, because that’s one thing he’s seen time and again. Ahsoka has a nose for trouble and all the bad luck of a loth-cat with a crooked tail, but she’s more than capable of returning that trouble tenfold on whatever thinks to hurt her.

“Not even going to try to tell me that she’ll behave herself?” Jon asks, and Doom smiles at the thread of amusement in his voice.

“I would never, sir,” he says, and Jon makes a noise of pure resignation. Chuckling, Doom reaches out, dares to put a hand on Jon's back as he guides him forward, warm robes that make him think of warmer skin beneath, and—

“Ah, Master Antilles!”

Jon twitches, head turning like he’s judging the distance to the window, and for a moment Doom is almost tempted to push him in that direction and let him run. Before he can give in to the impulse, though, General Kenobi sweeps up on Jon's other side, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. It makes Jon flinch faintly, and Doom has to grit his teeth to keep from saying something unforgivably stupid to a high general.

“Master Kenobi,” Jon says, and takes a half-step to the side, right into Doom’s space. Doom tries not to feel smug, but he shifts over to give Jon room, flattening his hand against Jon's back. once Jon gets startled, or once he gets touched and doesn’t see it coming, he starts getting more and more wary until he’s flinching at everything, and Doom’s seen Ahsoka ease him back down enough times now to know that he just needs to be steady, to let Jon have his space but also not jerk away and stop touching him entirely.

General Kenobi smiles, charming, handsome. Doom kind of wants to shave his beard off. “Thank you again for the rescue, Jon. It was most timely, and I’ll admit it’s an unexpected pleasure to see you again after Queyta.”

“I’m glad you're still in one piece,” Jon says quietly, and Doom’s heard about Queyta in the vaguest of terms, knows it makes Ahsoka angry and Jon very quiet, knows that at least some of the terrible burn scars on Jon's back are from that mission, but he hadn’t realized Kenobi was part of it. He frowns a little, glancing at Jon, but the door is right ahead of them and he has to step back.

“Sir?” he says, and Jon turns to look at him, reluctantly easing his hood back for his meeting with the High Council. Despite his worry, despite his annoyance at Kenobi, Doom can't help but smile at him. The first time he’d seen Jon's face, weeks after being assigned to him, he’d practically walked into a wall. Jon might like to hide his scars, but—no Mandalorian worth their armor is ever going to think they're anything but beautiful.

“Yes, Doom?” Jon asks, and he doesn’t quite smile back, but there's a curve to his mouth that’s small and subtle and almost the same thing.

Doom wants to bury his fingers in Jon's hair, pull him in and wrap his arms around him and hang on tight. Instead, he says, “If I don’t see you after the meeting, sir, I’ll wait for you back in the gardens.”

That really does make Jon smile, and he inclines his head, knowing that Doom just practically gave him permission to sneak out of the meeting as soon as he gets the chance. “Thank you,” he says, and turns to the door, taking a breath.

“It’s not quite like facing your execution,” Kenobi says, more or less cheerfully, and puts a hand on Jon's shoulder. More lightly, this time, Doom notices. “Come on, let’s see how many times we can make Ki-Adi-Mundi turn red and defend his Master’s honor.”

Jon winces, ducking his head, but he lets Kenobi push him gently into the room, the doors sealing behind them.

There's a long, long moment of silence, and then Wolffe groans, disgusted, and digs into his belt pouch. With a victorious sound, Gree holds out his hand, and Wolffe slaps a handful of meal credits into his palm, giving Doom a withering look.

“You couldn’t have hated your weird vagabond general and saved me a few caf credits?” he demands.

Doom rolls his eyes. “You bet against Gree?” he counters, and Gree chuckles, pocketing the chips.

“I figured you’d imprint,” he says easily. “Thanks, vod.”

“He can imprint all he wants, but if he keeps looking at my general like he’s sizing him up for a body bag, I won't be held accountable for my actions,” Cody says darkly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Then maybe your general should stop harassing mine,” Doom retorts, and Wolffe snorts.

“Easy, easy,” Gree says, raising his hands and stepping in between them. “Cody—”

“General Kenobi isn't harassing anyone!” Cody growls.

Doom bristles, stepping forward, and—

From down the hall, there's a loud whoop, a squawk, a shout. Half an instant later, Ahsoka and Commander Offee duck around the corner, giggling and breathless and grinning, and Ahsoka grins at Doom as she ducks around him.

“Doom, cover me!” she cries, and then they're out the window and gone. A moment later, Rex staggers after them, trailing pink smoke.

“Where—” he starts.

Silently, Doom points in the opposite direction than the girls went, and ignores the stares boring into the side of his head.

Rex squints down the hall, then groans. “Someone come help me get General Skywalker down off the ceiling,” he says. “Please.”

Doom doesn’t grin. He doesn’t. When Jon pokes his head out of the meeting room, takes one look at Rex, and winces, he definitely isn't laughing at his general’s suffering, either.

[On AO3]

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

Of gods, demons and the longevity of true love.

My entry for the last day of fraxusweek hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus !!!

Prompt: Tarot/Legends and Mythology

"What are those things still doing around here?" Laxus asks brazenly, watching a few demons scurry away with disdain clear in his eyes. His grandfather, ever the spineless pacifist twacks his kneecaps with his walking stick before answering. "You young insolent fool. They are an integral part of our society."

Before the old man can continue his explanation, Laxus scoffs. "Are they though?" he asks, not willing to hear a possible answer. "I fought with that lightning demon earlier and his power is laughable. I could've killed him and taken over his domain and the world would've kept on turning. They're evil beings without a purpose, you should've just got rid of them a long time ago."

Rest of the fic under the cut!

"Laxus." His grandfather's voice has taken on that specific kind of tone that suggests that he's more than displeased at his opinion, but Laxus can't bring himself to care. In a world of gods, demons and humans, are the demons really needed? Didn't his grandfather wage a war on them because they kept corrupting humans? His grandfather is a contradicting fool, really.

"What. All they're good for is corruption, right? We can live without that."

"Is that truly what you think?" his grandfather asks and Laxus snorts in response. "Have you raised me to think otherwise?" When he gets no immediate answer, he rolls his eyes and turns to leave. "Laxus wait", his grandfathers gently orders him and gestures for him to sit down next to him. He doesn't do that, unwilling to give the old man that much, but he does halt his stride and turn around.

"I used to think like that", his grandfather confesses as though it's a surprise, as though that sentiment isn't alive and thriving. "But I changed my mind after I experienced their so-called corruption myself. It's not what you think it is and I implore you to do the same thing before saying such callous things." He pauses as though the silence would fortify his statement. "You're full of shit", Laxus answers pointedly, having heard enough. He doesn't bid his grandfather goodbye as he leaves. That day, it storms and lightning wreaks havoc upon the unsuspecting townspeople.

The next day, he has the pleasure to explain the reasons behind his little lightning spectacle to the goddess of script, words, letters, alphabets yada yada, he isn't that interested. He also doesn't get why she's so insistent on writing everything down, keeping logs of all godly activity. It's annoying. She keeps blabbering about immortalising the gods through words, but doesn't their innate immortality defy that? Interrupting her spiel about the importance of script, he asks her a question that's been weighing on his mind.

"Tiny," ignoring the indignant squeak escaping her he continues, "You're smart right? What's your opinion on demons?" Immediately, the shift in the mood becomes palpable. With a nervous chuckle, she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ears. "Well...", she starts and coughs akwardly. "That's quite the loaded question, isn't it?"

He gets her unease. The war between demons and gods had started eons ago and had only come to a sudden stop recently. Outwardly, the gods all seemed to have become all fine and dandy with demons being allowed to interact with them and humans, but they both know the that isn't the truth. The message of 'demons are totes a-okay!' is so recent and none of them truly believe it. But not a single person can go against Makarov's wishes, so they take part in the façade.

Seeing her discomfort, he inwardly sighs. Although he won't deny that he's an asshole, it takes a whole different kind of asshole to force an answer out of petite Levy who looks like she could be snapped in half by him. Furthermore, she'd have to put this conversation in her records and probably have another moral breakdown. "Never mind it squirt, you keep doing your thing", he says and ruffles her hair while she bravely tries to fend him off. She still ends up with a bird's nest though.

Realising that no one's going to share their opinions of the other camp, he decides to take the easy way out. Instead, he decides to march straight into the other camp. If you want to know something, the best way is to get it directly from the source, right?

Apparently, it isn't. Little demon children (it's disturbing how innocence and something vile can coexist like that) quickly hide behind their mother's skirt as he walks between them. Conversations fall silent and only slowly pick up again when they think he's out of earshot. He's always taken pride in his grand stature, but right now it feels horribly out of place and he wonders if there's anything he can do to make himself look smaller, to not frighten these people as much.

The obvious discomfort his presence brings isn't worth it to him. Sure, he could keep forcing himself into their space, but he'd garner no positive results. He's quite sure he wouldn't even garner any results at all, since no one wanted to approach him. Realising this, he turns around to go back to the palace.

His grandfather finds him sitting on the edge of an open window, mulling over his thoughts and wondering how to change his approach. Those things seemed to be scared, something that doesn't add up in Laxus' head. Were they not the ones who turned humans against gods? Were they not the enemy? Were they shoving the most innocent of them to the forefront so that, upon entering their domain, outsiders would see them as guiltless beings?

"If you keep that, you'll damage whatever brains you have left", his grandfather teases him as he comes to stand next to Laxus. Rolling his eyes, he merely grunts at his grandfather in return. "What's got you thinking so hard my boy?" he asks and for a moment, Laxus closes his eyes and lets the warmth of his grandfather's voice trickle over him. For the briefest of moments, it's nice to pretend he's still a newly made god who thinks he knows how everything works.

"I went to visit those things-"

"At least call them people", his grandfather interrupts him and with a sigh, Laxus does so and continues. "I visited them", he says, eyes full of challenge, but his grandfather merely nods encouragingly. "I still can't see why you keep them around. They're more trouble than they're worth."

"I figured that you'd say that, so I arranged for a very special meeting. Do you want to meet the demon that changed my mind and made me spare their whole kind in the midst of a battle?" Because it seems like the only option left to satisfy his curiosity, Laxus agrees. While they walk through the castle in search of him, his grandfather explains who the demon in question is. Apparently, he could be seen as Levy's demon counterpart when comparing the domains they rule over. Laxus wonders what kind of words the demon must've pulled out of his ass to convince his grandfather to not kill them all.

After listening to his grandfather's long and winded character introduction, Laxus had expected a meeting with an old, gray man who constantly spouted unwanted advice like a fountain of fortune cookies. A single look at the young man before him proves him completely wrong.

He's definitely not old, in fact, his youthful face seems to suggest that he's younger than Laxus himself. There's a hint of muted curiosity there, suppressed childlike wonder that Laxus himself feels too. Because Laxus is focusing on the other man's looks that much, he quickly comes to the realisation that the man in front of him is devastatingly handsome. As soon as the realisation hits him, he colours a bright red and redirects his gaze to the very interesting tips of his shoes.

A deep chuckle makes his gaze snap back to the other man who gives him an amused halfsmirk. It's terribly attractive. Clearing his throat, his grandfather gestures to the man. "Laxus, meet the demon who rules over the scripts, speaks all tongues-"

"Freed", the man interrupts and offers Laxus his hand. Awkwardly Laxus accepts it while his grandfather frowns. "What are you freed from?" Laxus asks and immediately, his grandfather groans. The gorgeous man in front of him simply laughs, pretty lights dancing in his visible eye. "Freed is my name", he clarifies and Laxus wishes he was the god of being able to be swallowed by floors.

"What brings you here?", he asks Laxus. Not wanting to be ignored, his grandfather steps in. "Laxus wanted to know what demons were worth and I believe you would be the perfect person to show him that."

With a cool smile, Freed turns to his grandfather. "Well then Makarov, you thought wrong. Good day, gentlemen." Then he turns on his heel and departs, leaving both of them stunned. After a while, Makarov coughs. "I'm sure you're smart to figure it out yourself", he encourages Laxus before swiftly taking his exit as well.

Pissed off, Laxus spends the rest of the day making up less than savoury nicknames for Freed. Annoyed that the list of quite creative insults isn't helping him reach his goal any faster, he decides that he can't let this chance escape. Determined to know why demons are still allowed to exist, he hunts the man down. Laxus Dreyar is many things, but a quitter isn't one of them.

Maybe asking "Why are you still allowed to live?" isn't the most polite of questions to start with. Maybe, one shouldn't ever utter those words at all. But Laxus has a mouth that runs quicker than his brain and so, he has wedged himself between a rock and a hard place.

"Why not?" Freed shoots back, not unfriendly per se but there's an edge in his voice, ready to cut at any moment. "Tell me, why must I die?"

It's a question so direct that Laxus fumbles before answering. "You lot are corrupting humans, giving them things they aren't supposed to have. You're crossing boundaries you aren't supposed to cross." It's an adequate enough answer, it's something he's been told all his life.

"Who set those boundaries then?" Freed asks before shaking his head with a little laugh. "And giving humans things? Oh no, we're tricksters my dear, we don't give anyone anything. Surely we might inspire, but we do not give. Every choice one of those little ones down below makes, is one of their own. Don't underestimate the human will. Now please excuse me, I'm done talking for today."

"Wait", Laxus says and grabs the other man's arm, intending to halt his stride. With a brusque movement Freed breaks free and when Laxus catches a glimpse of his eyes, he thinks he's come a lot of steps closer to knowing what the flaming pits of hell look like. That fiery expression is quickly schooled back into careful neutrality as Freed opens his mouth to fire off a snappy remark.

"You're a funny lot, you gods. It's your way or none at all, isn't it? Why? Your hubris knows no bounds." After that, the man's gone before Laxus can ask him to stay.

The following day, Laxus seeks him out again and finds Freed sitting on the edge of an ornate fountain, bared feet dipping into the water as gods stand by and whisper from a distance. "Can I talk to you?" he politely asks and is met with an uncompromising "No".

"I just wanted to apologize", he mumbles and Freed gives him a flat look before disappearing again. Wondering what he did wrong, he spends the rest of his day at the fountain, feet splashing in the water as though he was still a child.

The next day, he once again seeks out Freed, asking if it were an appropriate moment to talk and once more, Freed tells him no. This time Laxus gives him a steady nod before leaving himself. Forcing the other man to talk to him would never work and honestly, Laxus doesn't want to force a relationship with anyone. Should Freed ever want to talk to him, he'd have no problem finding him.

For a few days he doesn't even see Freed until one day, the man pops up on his windowsill, perching on there like a cat basking in the sun. He's gorgeous, Laxus realises once more, with his hair losely draped over a shoulder and dark wings and horns reflecting the sunlight with a gentle shimmer. He's alluring, pulchritudinous. Laxus frowns. That last one is definitely not a word that was in his vocabulary before.

"Am I inspiring you yet?" Freed asks with a wicked grin, sinfully stretching himself on the windowsill. "Are my devilish charms working?" he adds and Laxus nods, a bit stupefied. "Now, you've been meaning to ask me something, right? You want to know why my species and I are allowed to live, why your grandfather decided to spare me on the battlefield."

Another nod. "My grandfather said he decided to spare you after he witnessed your 'corruption' himself. I want to know what words you said, you demon of words, letters, -"

"I said nothing at all", Freed interrupts him softly. "I didn't say a thing as he held me against the ground, knife in one hand with the other one on my throat. I merely cried because I was scared, I wholeheartedly believed I was going to die. My tears hit his hand and in that moment, the god who created all gods looked human."

Sensing the disbelief in Laxus, Freed only shrugs. "I think it's the first time he saw emotions that he hadn't created. You lot were made by him, every god carved to perfection by his hand. Every tear you've shed, every laugh you've laughed, they were implanted in you by him. We demons tempt you to let go of that prefabricated self, to explore your own self. Becoming your own person separated from Makarov's making comes at the price of immortality and thus, humans were born. Gods who were such no more."

With a whistful sigh, Freed shakes his head. "But parents get mad once you escape their tutelage and to protect their children, they will eliminate that which forms a threat to their children. And so the war began and for every child lost, a new one was made on your side. We demons have no almighty creator, we are born from stray magic of mother nature herself. We happen to be. So during one of those battles, I happened to be there and I think the confrontation with genuine emotion made him realise that he was not destroying something of his own making that he could simply rebuild. Just like humans, when we do die, we return to the earth."

It's a bit of a heavy pill to swallow. With an uncomfortable laugh, Laxus rubs the back of his head. "Guess you're not too big of a fan of my grandpa then?" Freed gives him a chuckle in return.

"Definitely no. And also, a bit yes. I just think he's been lonely for a long time and thus, has become very protective over his company. I think he's making strides in the right direction, but he's not unifying anyone. He still expects you all to just follow his wishes, well-intended as they are. But you all have come in contact with us, haven't you? You're not completely his anymore, so you are unable to blindly follow. He should educate you instead of ordering you, but that's just my two cents."

"I'm starting to get it", Laxus carefully says as he mulls over Freed's explanation. "You're allowed to live because nature made you with specific purposes outside my grandfather's realm of ruling. Freed laughs at his scrunched up pensive face and boops his nose.

"We're not even at my true point yet dear. Here's my gripe, my core issue if you want: must have something have a purpose or reason to exist at all? I have already mentioned it, but we demons happen to be and so are humans in a certain way. There's no reason or purpose behind our existance, we are not fabricated with definite goal. You gods were and I think that defines a lot of your thinking. But at our core, isn't simply being enough? Doesn't being give you more freedom to do something, anything than a prefabricated destiny? One should not have a purpose to be allowed to live, but finding purposes in life is what makes it worth living. But even that you, who are immortal, can not grasp. It's a bit pitiful isn't it, a god's existance?" With that and a kiss on the cheek, Freed leaves him to stew in his thoughts.

Once he's talked more about it with Freed over the span over a longer time, the clearer the division becomes between gods, demons and humans. Seeing the obvious divide, Laxus turns to his grandfather with his thoughts and ideas for a unification. Obviously, the old man has difficulties with being confronted by his own mistakes like that, but at least he attempts to do better.

The progress is slow and every once in a while there's a major setback that throws a wrench in the relationship between the demons and the gods. But steadily, over eons, the undercurrent of vicious hatred disappears and it's at that moment that a different union happens. Laxus can't think of a life without this clever, misschievous man at his side and the affections are returned. Their marriage is something that brings the relation between demons and gods to a higher level, evens the playing ground even more.

Whether their opnions be good or not, every god has one on the union. "It really strenghtens their critical thinking, doesn't it?" Freed jokes as he reads one of the letters totally decimating him. "They're absolutely nae nae'ing me."

They exchange a few meaningful glances and Freed breaks the silence first with a sigh. "Every day we stray further from Makarov's light. Everyone has something to say nowadays." He gives Laxus a thoughtful look. "You know what this means, right?"

"Our immortality fades. We become humans."

Freed gives him a hum, confirming his speculations. "Gramps will become lonely again then", Laxus realises and with a heavy heart, he knows he doesn't want that to happen.

"I don't think he'll be around for that long", Freed confesses and presses a kiss to the corner of Laxus' lips to ease the lines of worry there. "Fear not for him my love, he is old and his children have grown up. He has found a purpose that brought him joy and now that purpose has reached it's peak. His life is a fulfilled one, prepare to let him go."

And let go of him they do, eventually. It leaves the gods without power, devoid of immortality but with a new sense of peace. "A parting gift", Freed whispers and Laxus draws his husband into the tightest of hugs. "Should I give you one too, when I eventually die?"

Freed shakes his head. "My dearest love, there's nowhere you can go where I won't follow. You've been feeling it too, haven't you? We're entering a new time, where a divide won't be there anymore. We will simply be humans, all of us."

When the time to fade comes, they know and are ready for it. Everyone's been feeling it, but there's a peace that shields them all  from true fear. There's an intimate knowledge that this is one of the changes that simply is, that simply happens.

Freed and Laxus are sitting hand in hand, with their feet idly splashing into the fountain as unworried children would do. "When we meet again, because there are no ifs about it, will you greet me as a friend?" Freed softly asks as his eyes close themselves and Laxus whispers back: "My love, I'd greet you as a lover."

Bonus:

University lectures aren't always the most interesting, but this one is certainly turning out to be. A guy a few rows before him looks about ready to fistfight the professor about nihilism of all things. He can't properly hear them, but clearly the confrontation is over and the guy whirls away from the prof, heading straight for the door. Laxus decides to follow him.

"Why were you defending a belief that says human life is useless and meaningless? I think we all have a defined purpose", Laxus says, daring the other man the answer.

And answer, he does, with eyes blazing like the gates of hell. "Life is inherently meaningless", he says with certainty, "But that's because it's filled with the opportunity to create your own meaning. You may be waiting for divine intervention, but I'll create my own destiny."

Laxus smiles then, the familiarity and the warmth returning to his soul. "Then I'll do too", he says, "You've always inspired me, my love."

Whether they be human or something else, their kisses keep tasting the same.

[iimuchakk]

Seven seas babies AU - The Journey

Hinahoho’s babies xxx

The five little beans and their father are so excited to go back to Sindria to see Kikiriku and the other’s it’s not even funny

If it wasn’t for all the commotion Hinahoho could of sworn he saw Ahanu smile...

Catori is already getting together her favorite clothes and weapons, whilst Aponi’s already packed

She’s desperate to get a tan

poor babies so pale

Of course Bodaway and Badzill are super duper excited!

People back in Sindria aren't use to their pranks and mischief

they’re pretty sure big bro Ja’far will appreciate the break from work to deal with them

unless he decides the break from work grants him permission to break their necks

wouldn’t be surprising

Turns out, Hinahoho didn’t realize how hard it was going to be keeping himself and five children all together on one ship despite its gigantic size

“Give me back my hair brush Catori!” 

“No Aponi this is mine!”

“DADDY!”

Too much drama for the poor Imuchakk man!

The twin boys are no better

Every second he looks away he has a new note attached to his back

At least Ahanu is being calm at least

Actually, where is Ahanu?

“OH MY SOLOMON STOP WRESTLING SHARKS!”

He’s pretty sure if Rurumu was alive they’d be to scared to pull this crap

How long is the journey over seas again?

A few months?

oh great.

how fun.

Meanwhile, Kikiriku just drinks all the alcohol he can get his hands on

Knowing family time is not always fun time

but annoying time

Ja’far’s babies xxx

Rabi has never looked so hyperactive

and that’s bad

because he is usually hyperactive anyways

has only ever met Hinahoho’s family once when they were very young

not including Kikiriku, who he is rather close with

and that’s about it

Ja’far is just as excited but shows it in smaller doses 

he’s told Rabi a bit about his old friends

though most of Rabi’s information comes from uncle sin and Drakon, who are less busy then his dad

Ja’far has to actually organize everyone's arrivals and their journeys through letter’s and magic circles, so it’s no surprise he’s tired

“No need to threat dad. I’m sure some magic trick’s will cheer you up!”

They don’t

they really don’t Rabi

So Rabi moves on

Trying to decide what color looks best on him since he’s pretty sure ginger hair is hard to match with

decide’s to go with pink, he feels it brings out his eyes

Sinbad applaud’s him on his extravagant choice

Kikiriku, Spyro and Sadiq don’t want to break his little heart and tell him he looks terrible so they just...smile(?)

Ja’far and wife-co decide an awkward thumbs up is probably best in this situation

At least the other’s arriving are all excepting...

Sinbad’s babies xxx

Does not care

Sadiq has no interest with meeting these people

From the stories he’s been hearing they’re all

tiny, flat chested

over grown

cocky, big headed

spineless, overly religious

boring, emotionless

crazy wizard people!

He already has enough of that with Rabi

boi needs no more of that craziness in his life

Sinbad’s been trying to get him excited

offering him Sharrkan’s guidance as a sword fighting teacher because -

“Your foot work really need’s work. Perhaps when you learn to control yourself better in battle, you can be as good as me~?”

g l a r e

nothing else really changes

goes about his day as usual

mentally curses the fact his dad is more clingy then usual

spends a lot of him time in the garden hiding in the bushes whilst everyone else’s happily awaits the arrival of the others

angrily chews on some near by leaves

Where’s Spyro when you need him?

Drakon’s babies xxx

Is really scared about meeting everyone

His parents speak really fondly of the old generals, and he’s worried his appearance might scare them

Tries to find something nice to wear that hide’s most of him away whilst still looking approachable

Saher laughs at him

points to Drakon

“If they can put up with his face then your looks will be easy to cope with.”

“Jee thanks mom.”

If you couldn’t tell that was sarcastic

Spyro also wants to show of a little

just a little...

and decides to make the training ground look nice and civilized so he can invite someone back to spar with

wants to show everyone he’s strong

since it’s the only quality he really like’s about himself

Is dragged to Rabi’s room to watch the boy practically cat walk his outfits

“Yes Rabi you look beautiful. CanIPleaseLeave?”

Can’t find Sadiq anywhere and is very worried

Until Kikiriku tell’s him he saw him chewing on plants that he’s fine

Spartos babies xxx

Very casual journey

wifu stays at home to keep everything in order

Spartos is practically pining after her as soon as the boat leaves the harbor

Elizabeth and Junior have never been more ashamed of their father’s pathetic display of sniveling affection. 

He’s smitten.

“Why is he so insistent about wanting to hold her...?”

“Because Liz, he was a virgin so long before he met her it probably feels weird to know he’s going to have to wait at least a year before any more shenanigans.”

“THATS NOT TRUE I JUST REALLY LOVE YOUR MOTHER “ ;((((

Whole way there is basically cheering up Spartos instead of enjoying the journey to Sindria

Elizabeth will sing for her father from time to time and brings him food, and Spartos appreciates that she tries

Junior’s attempts are less subtle...

Tries to get his dad to do stupid thing’s to get his mind off his mother like:

A: Will dad appreciate rain dancing on a boat? Possibly causing a storm

B: Fishing in shark infested waters?

C: Drowning themselves so they don’t have to deal with his whining?

Junior is very excited to meet the people in his dad’s past life

really wants to spar with someone

oh please say someone wants to spar

Elizabeth is less excited, more curious then anything.

Shes desperate to meet the king of Sindria

Not for him himself, but rather his jewelry

Masrur’s babies xxx

Wives Razol and Rehema decided they don’t want to go

For them it’s basically a holiday

Masrur has the kids with him for a month or two whilst they get to do whatever they like?

See you Masrur

Have fun~

Sadi’s only ever met Ja’far and Sinbad

likes them a lot

would appreciate it if they would arm wrestle with her

how else would she prove shes better?

Very keen to show off

In-fact Masrur want’s her too

Something about showing two people swords and magic suck compared to the fanalis race? Whatever that means.

Angelou kind of just shrugs

He’s a lot like his dad after all

You think meeting some strangers is gonna excite him? Nah

Poor Angelou just wants to rest

Knows it’s basically going to be him baby sitting Ruby

His little sister is defiantly going to be trying to prove herself?

Ever seen a fanalis punch someone in the face?!

Yes?

Ever had a fanalis punch you in the face?!

No?

Stand still!!

Masrur should probably warn the generals about her...

And Dominic. Well Dominic’s just worried

Dosent want to let his father down

He’s in touch with his feminine side

Nervous that the generals will make fun of Masrur for it

Thinking of ways to make himself seem more manly

Sharrkans babies xxx

There is no easy way to put this

Ozymandias is a little brat

On the ship he’s constantly crying

Defiantly not a sea baby

It’s okay though

Sharrkan just loves listening to crying babies when HES TRYING TO SLEEP ITS GREAT HONESTLY HES SO NOT DYING INSIDE

Always checking constantly to make sure Ozymandias isn’t sick

He remembers when his mother grew ill and Ozymandias’ mother

He can’t let that happen

Every time he walks into a room his son throws a toy snake at him

9/10 it hits him in the face

He loves his son really...

In-fact, ever since he’s had Ozymandias he’s been compeltly ignoring women

Actually now that he thinks about it he wasn’t had...you know what in a long time

Has it changed!?

Is he even doing it right!?

Que baby crying

“SOMEONE HELP ME!”

Yamraiha’s babies xxx

Dosent want to travel through a magic circle incase she hurts the baby in her belly

Boat ride it is

Ever been stuck on a month boat ride with a pregnant woman?

No

LUCKY YOU!

If she’s craving a food that isn’t there, someone is about to have a broken neck

LET HER EAT DAMMIT!

Can’t get comfortable in any position and the rocking of the boat just makes her morning sickness worst

Accidentally threw up on someone’s shoes...

Lays in bed thinking about possible baby names but can’t come up with any she likes so proceeds to cry into her pillow.

Looks fat in everything

The generals are going to think she looks fat

Sharrkan is 100% going to laugh at her being fat

Que power nap

This trip better be worth it...

Pisti’s babies xxx

Tir is ready for take off

Pisti has already decked him out in feathers galore and won’t he stop trying to climb up on every single bird he sees

She can’t help but laugh at him

He’s such a bundle of energy

No trouble at all

“HES GONNA GET HIS EYES PECKED OUT SOMEONE STOP HIM!”

Okay maybe a bit of trouble

But nothing auntie Pisti can’t solve right!

Right?...

Pisti decides to fly over to Sindria because why not? It’s a lot quicker

To stop Tir from falling off she makes a harness that she straps around the chest of the bird so Tir is facing her the whole time

BIG MISTAKE

The whole way there he’s just gargling at her and poking her boobs

Then he cries when he realises how small they are

IF HE DOSENT WATCH HIS ATTITUDE SHE WILL THROW HIM OFF THE BIRD!

Debates if it’s even worth drinking in sindria because Tir is a full time job

Pisti? Not drinking?

She joins in with Tir’s cries

It’s a painful journey with a peacock coloured Tir alright...

[somerpmemes]

Wizards of Waverly Place S2 Starters

Change as needed

“Watch it, I own sarcasm and don’t give you permission to use it.”

“Knowing stuff is so cool.”

“Panic and run, it’s never not worked.”

“There are no losers, just winners and the people who aren’t them.”

“When in doubt, dance out.”

“I’m not sure what I saw, but I saw that!”

“We should really shut this when we’re talking about people and they’re sitting right there.”

“Not seeing things coming is the rollercoaster of love, and I’m strapped in, ready to ride!”

“Just admit it, you don’t know anything about her!”

“No, you’re good, just don’t chase cars.”

“His loss is your gain, right?”

“The faster we go, the safer I feel.”

“There has got to be a way to put something on fire in my mouth without it hurting.”

“If someone in your family hates someone, then you’re supposed to hate that person too!”

“For an enemy, you are a lifesaver.”

“Oh, it’s really clever if you knew.”

“If I jack it up, just pull the fire alarm.”

“It took you hours to make that stupid thing?”

“I love food that’s bigger than it should be.”

“You know, you’re not as weird as everyone says.”

“Would you just let me be mad!?”

“You’re kinda just saying everything you’re seeing. Is everything okay?”

“I also wanna play that claw machine where you win stuffed animals.”

“You haven’t creeped me out for weeks!”

“Hey, look it’s a bird house. Or a mailbox. ...which one is it?”

“You look like somebody who’s always looking for an excuse to get out of work.”

“I don’t know much about relationships but I don’t think dating another guy is the way to celebrate.”

“I think I’m finally getting what she’s trying to say so I’m trying to say something I think she might get.”

“I didn’t hear that, I can’t be associated with this!”

“You get that I don’t rest well, right?”

“You have no idea what’s possible here.”

“That is a great evil plan, I am proud of you.”

“I love tetherball. It’s the only ball you can never lose.”

“That was a lot of stairs!”

“Evil is one thing, but mean is a hurt that never goes away.”

“___, even I know that’s a bad idea!”

“Would you go if I told you it was my birthday?”

“Oh, what does that big one do?”

“Friendships are all about surprising each other.”

“Okay, so it’s a problem.”

“Some people don’t want exciting, they want smart, reliable, and CPR certified.”

“Nice outfit, does your mom dress you?”

“___, I know you hate it when I get an idea, but I’ve got an idea!”

“If you want it to hurt, you gotta be accurate.”

“Go ahead, ask for help.”

“Stand next to it, maybe it’ll blend in!”

“I’m the dream you’ll never wake up from.”

“Missing something is part of what makes it a great memory.”

“Cool sword, let me try!”

“Aww, hey, look, it’s bendy! ….no it’s not.”

“You said we. You’re officially in, awesome!”

“Babies love burgers.”

“I’m the one who makes the scrapbooks in this relationship!”

“You have the most beautiful eyes, what color are they?”

“Hate to be impolite but what’s up with your face, dude?”

“I don’t see this going well.”

“You still don’t get it, I WANTED to hit you in the face.”

“Didn’t that give you chills?”

“I do everything without consulting you, why should I start now?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?! ...don’t answer that.”

“Giddy up on over here.”

“Being cute is not a full time job.”

“I’ll crush you like a bug, just like I did in skeeball!”

“You know I’m a good actor! I’ve been acting like I like you for years!”

“I’m so glad you finally found something you’re half-good at.”

“You’re gonna get electrocuted eventually.”

“Eww, is this diet?”

“Sleep with one eye open tonight.”

“I don’t wanna end up the male equivalent of chicks with cats!”

“I just ate a bunch of sugar, guess we’re both having good days.”

“It’s so funny when people you don’t know explode.”

“In situations like this I usually say hosed.”

“One more good idea and I might have to bother learning your name.”

“Excuse me while I pretend to take a phone call.”

“You’ve said that every five minutes.”

“Don’t stare at me.”

“I think I’m gonna keep you around for a while.”

“I’m not sure whether to scream or laugh so I’m gonna do both at the same time.”

“Ooh that sounds like a good idea if it wasn’t for the “work” part.”

“I thought of that but I was hoping you wouldn’t get there, because, y’know, it’s just trouble.”

“Don’t you ever hold back another devious idea again. You’re good at it and you need to start owning it.”

“You’re my best friend, you know I’m up to no good all the time!”

“Guess you should’ve thought your little plan through a little more carefully.”

“I see what you did there. I don’t like it, but I respect it.”

“Wouldn’t it be awesome if that was the pizza we forgot to order?”

“Nobody likes a one-trick pony.”

“I know nothing ever feels finished to me unless I rub it in someone’s face.”

“...this broke on it’s own.”

“Now I’m mad at both of us!”

“People really underestimate my arm wrestling skills.”

“You’re in here way too often.”

“You think this is hilarious, don’t you.”

“I didn’t mean to do that but that is so much funnier than what I’d meant to do.”

“You know I use laughter to hide the pain!”

“Lucky for you, today’s the day I’ve decided to help others.”

“Let’s just call it a practical joke, okay? It’s less of a red flag.”

“Never love anything too much. It will eventually disappoint you.”

“You think I’m an evil genius? That’s so sweet!”

“Well that was weird and meaningless.”

“Why do people think I don’t date?”

“You’re talking to me, I’m taking it as a victory.”

“Oh, no wonder smart people are so fun!”

“Your brain has a short attention span, it’s very easy to overpower.”

“You don’t need dialogue for a comedy to be funny.”

“I think you know a better way to thank me.”

“I’m exhausted from all that running and overacting.”

“I like you. I hope you don’t wreck it.”

“I try to avoid situations that emphasize my awkwardness.”

“The value of sleep is a myth.”

“We’re not THAT dysfunctional.”

“This is SO going on the Internet.”

“Say whatever you want, we all know how much you care about this.”

“Yeah, I think you’re the only one who knows what you’re talking about.”

“There was a time when I thought you wouldn’t amount to much. That time was yesterday.”

“I feel like I’ve asked enough questions to not be responsible for what’s about to happen.”

“Sorry, but the public has spoken and they love me.”

“Come down here and see how great I am!”

“You think I’m doing nothing, but really I’m planning against you.”

“I find that if you keep acting like something you want’s gonna happen it just does.”

“Get out of here, I’m about to do something you don’t want to know about.”

“People used to make fun of me behind my back but now I’m okay with it.”

“Knowledge is cool.”

“You’re odd, but you adore me and I like that.”

“You know, things are not looking good for you.”

“Yeah, hi. Where do you think you’re going?”

“Good luck not being ashamed of all that, sweetie.”

“You know how I always support your unpredictable whims.”

“I knew how this was gonna go, I just didn’t think it would happen so soon.”

“Do you ever listen to yourself or is there an invisible shield that just blocks your ears?”

“You’re making it hard to be supportive.”

“I didn’t think this moment would happen because, if I did, I probably wouldn’t have done it.”

“I’ll try to say this as nice I can but you look like something I snaked out of my shower drain.”

“I can only learn one new thing a week.”

“I’m still mad at you for the last time you said I hold a grudge.”

“I need to get back to doing a lot of nothing.”

“Winging it never fails.”

“My two favorite things now are baking my own pie crust and knitting.”

“I’m just gonna move this breakable stuff outta the way here…”

“This was urgent, like, a minute ago.”

“If anybody should be playing nice right now, it’s you.”

“I love loopholes.”

“For once I’m not gonna let you ruin something important for me.”

“I most definitely do not need your help.”

“See what I just did there? It’s called lightening the mood.”

“I’ve never been more happy to be somewhere I didn’t wanna be my entire life.”

“So you’re admitting that this is kinda your fault.”

“Okay, so, second time’s the charm.”

“Hey, I’ve got an idea, why don’t I lead and you follow.”

“There’s a right way to do things and that’s the way I like to do them.”

“This is the longest you’ve ever gone without making fun of me.”

“I know I don’t say it very often, but thank you.”

“You gotta learn to let me do the talking.”

“Even in the face of the most imminent doom you still can be super annoying.”

“Seriously, what is with all this hugging?”

“The thing about proms is that people always expect too much and then they’re always let down.”

“People underestimate the power of goofy.”

“Sometimes I stifle my excitement in front of you because you’re rarely ever excited like this.”

“You should probably pay me for this.”

“Girls love alternate means of transportation.”

“You’d make an amazing pickpocket.”

“Walk with me and keep telling me things you love about me.”

“___, how can you be so cute and so spineless at the same time?”

“Hey, this right here is the highlight of your whole life. How do you feel about it now?”

“Just once I’d like to win one of these!”

[venactricisfics]

Good as Hell

Negan x OC SL

@negans-network @neganmorgan @mypapawinchesterjeffreynegan @ask-kakashihatake   @haleyea@collette04  

Masterlist

I stand in the yard, looking through the opening in the walls to the Hilltop then back to our enclosure.  Now was the moment I had to choose.  I needed to see if what Simon said was true but I was terrified at that moment that he spoke the truth.  My gut told me that Simon was full of shit. All the time I’d spent with Negan meant something.  To both of us. At least so much that he didn’t want to see me dead. 

“You can’t go,” Alden shouted at me as I start toward the open fence. 

“I can’t stay,” I look back to the house, “I have to find out for sure.” 

“Run,” Alden pushes me through the gate as he and some of the others that stayed close the gate behind me.  I pick up a discarded shovel and start running.  It’d be morning before anyone at the Hilltop would come looking if they came looking. It’d be even longer than that to hike back to the Sanctuary.  But I had to hoof it back there. 

I breathe and walk. Listening for the living, the dead.  Either one could and most assuredly would take me the fuck down without a second thought. This was probably stupid.  Walking alone at night was never a good idea.  And the end of the fucking world didn’t improve those ods.  

My luck seemed to improve just a touch as the sun peers over the edge of the horizon.  I find a car, with half a tank of gas. Fingers crossed as I turn the ignition. It sputtered a little before it roared to life. My foot heavy on the petal I drive back to the Sanctuary.  

Arat slid open the gates when I drive up, “Is he here?” She shakes her head, “Dwight and Simon think he’s gone.” 

“He’ll make it back,” I climb out from behind the wheel, “he’s too damn stubborn to die.” 

“Come on,” she says, “Let’s get you upstairs before Simon sees you.”

“That asshole left me there,” I walk with her up the back steps. “To die. I almost got killed in his Hilltop ambush.” 

“That wasn’t the plan,” she said, “Negan went to rescue you and the others.  Simon went off-script.”

“I knew it,” I respond as she leads me into her room. “If Simon thinks Negan is dead, he’s gonna try to take over. We can’t let him do that.” I take a seat.  “He’ll fuck things up beyond all recognition. Get more people killed.”

“What do we do?” she said and handed me a bottle of water.  

“Thanks,” I take a long drink. I can’t remember anything tasting so good before, “we over through him. As to exactly how,” I stand up, “I’ll let you know after a shower and a nap.” 

The sun had already set when I stepped out of Arat’s apartment, I kept close to the wall, I didn’t want to be seen, not yet.  Not until I figured out this thing with Simon and until I knew for sure what happened to Negan. 

Going into the boss’s room, was probably not the smartest idea. I smile as I turn the knob and duck inside Negan’s room. It had gotten me into this trouble in the first place. I lay a change of clothes on the back of his leather couch.  The truth of it was, I wouldn’t change a second of it. My life changed for good in with that decision. And I didn’t want it to change back. 

I step under the warmth of the shower, the heat relaxing every muscle in my body.  I washed and conditioned my hair. Felt like a person again. My hand moved over the slight swell in my stomach and I knew there was only one-way shit would change. We’d have to figure out a different way to work with the communities.  After I took Simon out of the field of play. 

I rang the excess water from my hair then stepped out of the shower.  I’d left the bathroom door open and wipe the steam from the mirror. I met his hazel eyes in the reflection.  I turn slowly praying it was not just a figment of my imagination. 

My cheeks didn’t flush as I stand fixed for him to admire me with that look of his. The one that sparked every cell in my body.  I take the few steps to close the gap between us.  My palms rest on the worn leather of his jacket satisfied that he was real, I step up on my toes and press my lips to his. I let the flavor of Negan dance on my tongue while his hands move over my naked body.  A gloved one squeezed the cheek of my ass pulling me closer, while his bare one cupped my breast, thumb circling my nipple to a hardened peak.  

“I missed the fuck outta you too, baby,” he smirked when the kiss finally broke.  “Let me take a look at you.” He steps back a moment letting his eyes linger on my body, taking in every inch. “You are still super fucking hot.” 

“Stop talking,” I tell him, “and take your clothes off, Negan.” He shrugs out of his jacket and tugs his white T-shirt over his head.  I didn’t care that he was still covered in dirt and grime from whatever he’d been through. I just wanted to feel connected with him again.  

“Get on the bed,” I crawl on the bed on my hands and knees.  

“Fuck that is a fucking beautiful sight,” his hand moves over the curve of my ass as he positions himself behind me. “So fucking wet already,” his voice echoed a smirk as he traces his finger slowly along my slit.  “Your pussy missed me too huh?” I start to speak again, tell him to shut up but his tongue slides inside me and his thumb dances over my clit causing me to forget all other words except, “Oh fuck.” He alternates between his tongue and fingers in their assault of my cunt.  Causing me to see stars.  He wraps his arms around my thighs as I start to shake, continuing to devour me as I let go. His lips move up my body followed by his hands, he kisses my shoulder as his hands cup my breasts and pulls me back to his chest. 

“Jee-sus,” he grinds his hips against me. I let out a disappointed groan feeling his jeans rubbing against me instead of flesh.  My eyes dark as I turn my face to him, “Why are your pants still on?” 

“That is a good fucking question,” his hand slides over my stomach, middle finger toying with my clit, causing me to squirm at the overstimulation. His lips ghosted over my neck and I let out a groan hearing his zipper lower, “Is that what you want, baby?” His cock slides between my lower lips tickling my clit with the head. 

"You know what I want, " I purr moving with him. 

"Oh I fucking know baby, " he lines himself up with my entrance. The tip of his cock slipping slowly inside.  Slowly he slides deeper. He kept one hand on my hip, the other hand cupping my breast holding me tight to his chest, as he drives hard bottoming out inside me. His hand moves to cover my mouth as I start to cry out. "Fuck if hearing you scream while my cock is inside you isn't the hottest fucking thing ever, " he says, "I can't have anyone else knowing I'm back yet." He smirks against my ear pumping hard again. I bite down on my lip to quiet my moans. 

I drop down on the bed, supporting myself on my elbows, his fingers dig in my hips, he thrusts hard and fast chasing his release. My walls pulse around him, syncing their rhythm with each thrust. "That pussy is hungry for it?” he grunts out his words, “I’m gonna fucking give it to you.” He slams into me a final time his cock twitching as he fills me with hot thick ropes of cum. 

A satisfied smile tugs across my lips as we collapsed on the bed together, “I needed that.” I turn to face him, “You put everything in perspective.”

“My cock is fucking magical,” he smirks. 

“Well, that,” I rest my hand on his face, searching the depths of his hazel eyes, “and that you’re here with me. I was scared that what Simon said was true or worse.” 

“What did Simon say?” he arches his brow as his hand toys with my breast. 

“He said I was ‘damaged goods’,” I tell him, “I know if we get caught up in shit it’s up to us to get out of it. But this was different. He didn’t give a shit if the bullets he was flinging hit us or them.” 

“That was not part of the goddamn plan,” he said, “don’t worry baby.  I’ve got plans for Simon.” 

“Those people, at Hilltop,” I yawn now feeling the weariness in my body from no real sleep in the last few days, “don’t kill any more of them than you have to, OK?”

“You let me worry about that, baby,” his fingers comb through my hair, “you sleep.” “

----------

“Negan?” I reach my hand out finding his side of the bed empty. My eyes open and I look around finding him gone.  My heart pounded in my chest, I was terrified he was gone. I scoop up my clothes and dress quickly. I relax when I hear the sound of the toilet flushing in the bathroom. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks when he comes out of the bathroom, buckling his belt as he walks. 

“I thought,” I shake my head at myself, “I thought you were gone again.”

“I didn’t think watching me take a shit was a kink you enjoyed,” his lips curve into a smirk, “I can keep that in mind next time.” 

“As appealing as that sounds,” I smile up at him, arms sliding around his waist, “I’ll pass. There are still some things that should remain a mystery.” I step up on my toes and peck his lips, “What’s the plan for today?”

“I think it’s time we announce our triumphant return,” he slips on his glove and picks up his bat, “I shall shock the shit out of Dwighty boy. And I’ll give you the honor of paying a visit to my second.”  I give a nod in agreement. There were so many things I wanted to say to Simon.  Most of them end with a fist or a gun to the face. 

I step out of Negan’s room, feeling his eyes follow me as I head down the hall in the direction of Simon’s room. I glance back catching his eyes before he starts walking in the other direction. I give a smile, I could never get enough of Negan’s eyes on me. Or well his everything on me. But I had a job to do. 

I pause watching as Simon’s door opens and closes, Gregory steps out and scurries down the hall.  Of course, that spineless ameba would have slithered his way back here.

 “I’m so glad you made it back safely,” I watch as Simon freezes catching a glimpse of me, “Negan wants a meeting in the conference room,” his jaw practically drops.  I push down the urge to grin, “he wants an assessment of all the ‘damaged goods’.”

“Right away,” he turns back on the big dick energy he had always been known for, though this time it seemed a little limp.  

I felt a little exhilarated as I took a seat in the conference room. It was the first time I had a seat at the table. The men Negan could trust had just been dropped by two, and glancing around the room. I wasn’t sure who else among them would turn Judas. 

“I thought they killed you and they were gone,” Simon reasoned, “I lacked discipline. And made it personal. So I moved things from infection to extermination. I fucked up. I’ll make it up to you.” 

“I remember when I took this place,” Negan strokes his bat before standing, “When /you/ helped me take this place, I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep you on board. Before the system I put in place, you killed all those men and boys in that settlement so long ago, a lot of people would have thought that is some fucking psychotic shit. The work a demented goddamn gual. But I kept you, everything seemed to work out right up to this point,” Negan moves around the table, standing behind Simon, “I’m gonna need you on your knees.”   

I glance across the table to Arat then back to Simon as he looks like he’s about to piss himself. 

“You gonna make a move?” Negan curls his fingers around Lucille. I’d never seen him use her to her full potential before. I swallowed back the churning sensation in my stomach. 

“No move to make,” Simon accepted his fate.  Negan pulls the bat to his shoulder ready to swing but stops.

“All is forgiven,” Negan states, “We’re good.” I bite back my words. Though my face flushed red. I was pissed.  This man had left me for dead and Negan was just gonna let that shit slide. Negan’s eyes met mine.  He had a plan.  I should have known, he always had a plan. 

DJ lays a map out and Negan reviews the plan to set up new staging posts for the Hilltop.  To keep them in their place.  Starve them into submission. I listen trying not to react. I hoped this plan would keep our people, both here and still prisoners at Hilltop, alive. 

“Clear out,” he says.  I scoot the chair from the table, pausing as everyone else files from the door. He lifts his eyes to me, “I’ll see you /real/ soon, gotta have a chat with my boy, D.” 

“What the fuck going on?” I ask as Negan swings the door open to his room.

“I’m disappointed, baby,” he tilts my head up to lock my gaze with his, “no fucking kiss hello before laying into me.”

“I’m sorry,” my hands cup his face, and I step up on my toes, “it doesn’t stop with one kiss though. I kiss you and then your dick is inside me and I have no answers.”  He grabs a handful of my ass, “You like my dick inside you.” 

“I’m not debating that. You use your dick to shut me up,” I settle back on my feet, “what are you gonna do with Simon and Dwight?”

“I’m gonna handle shit the way I fucking handle it,” he says then steps away from me, “don’t worry about it.”

“He’s gonna make some kind of play,” I tell him, “so don’t tell me what to worry about. That mother fucker got our people killed.  Almost got me killed. I can’t let him get you killed.”

“Baby,” he keeps his voice even, “you trust me?”

“More than anyone,” I respond.

“Then believe me when I say I will handle my shit,” he raises Lucille to rest on his shoulder, “I’m waiting on my number two to fuck himself before I end him.”

“What are you gonna do?” I ask. 

“Just stand back and watch the fucking show,” Negan’s lips curve into a smirk, “get your pistol it’s about time for me to interrupt a super-secret meeting.”

I holster my weapon and follow him from the room.  I stay back listening with him at the door, Arat, DJ and several others stand to wait, listening to the backstabbing words coming from Simon.  We hang back as Negan steps out, whistling to catch the attention of the Judases below.  

“Thank you, D,” I heard Negan say before counting down, “Three… two... one.”  The rest of us step out firing shots.  Taking out everyone but Dwight, Gregory, and Simon. Arat holds the barrel of her pistol to the base of Simon’s head as I pull his weapons.  

“Getting fucked over isn’t as fun as you thought,” I glare at him. Simon charges at Dwight as DJ and another guy grab him to hold him back.

“There’s the Simon I know,” Negan states, “He comes right at you instead of that backstabby bullshit.”  Negan’s eyes narrow, “You killed all the garbage people, Simon.  After I specifically told you /not/ to do that shit. But after all this and me being me I’m still gonna give you your shot. You want to be the man you gotta beat the man. If you can do that then fuck, you should /be/ the man.” 

I feel the tension so thick between the men it could be cut with a knife.  We file into the furnace room.  I clench my fist to keep from reaching out to Negan.  He didn’t need me, not in this.  It would only make him look weak.  Or me desperate.  

“Hold my baby,” Negan smirks as he hands me Lucille, “Baby.” 

“Everyone,” Simon announces smugly, “After this is done, we get to work. I didn’t want this. But the Sanctuary must stand. I just wanted to say…” He stops his monolog to cold clock Negan in his face.  No one moves, no one speaks, as fists collide into flesh.  The only sound was the grunts of the two men.  The fight was evenly matched.  But I kept my face stoic.  My hand squeezed tight around the grip of Lucille. Heart thumping in my chest but my face didn’t reveal anything.  Not until Negan held Simon down, his hands tight around the man’s throat.

“You went for it all at Hilltop,” Negan says between clenched teeth, “you got Saviors killed. Left my girl for dead.  Then you ran the fuck away like a fucking coward.  You got shown up one too many times. They’re gonna always try to push back.  Now I gotta kill all of ‘em.  Just like I gotta kill you.” My eyes squeeze shut as I hear Simon’s windpipe crunch.  No one else moves.  “What an asshole.” 

I open my eyes when Negan rests his hand on mine, taking Lucille from me, he leans in, his lips dance over my ear as he spoke, “I left a surprise for you in your apartment. Meet me there.” I nod, “Alright.” 

I swing the door open to my apartment, “Well shit,” I grin, “I thought you were dead.” 

“Almost was,” Laura stands and gives me a hug, then looks around my room, “Nice digs. Been really enjoying that cushy mattress.” 

“Glad someone has got to use it,” I take a seat next to her.  

“Come in,” I say after hearing a tap at the door.  Negan swings the door open, Dwight standing beside him.  His face stark white as he stares at Laura.  

“You look surprised, Dwight,” Negan says, “Laura, why don’t you tell D what you told me?’

“Oh, how he turned on us that night in Alexandria?” she stands to stare him down, “Killing our team. Or how he left me for dead? I kept running. Hoping I’d be able to expose you for the skum you are.”

 “You are a nobody in way over your head,” Negan tells him, “But when I told you that you would come through for me when I needed it, I meant that shit 110%. I knew I could count on you to deliver my brilliant, if I may say so my fucking self, fake-ass fucking plan to Rick. Rick and the piss patrol are gonna walk right into the line of fire.  All thanks to my new right-hand man.” Negan stands over him, “I thought about killing you too.  But that’s too fucking good for a backstabbing, double-crossing dirtbag such as yourself. No, Dwighty boy, I got plans for you.” Negan gives a nod to his guys as he moves to drape his arm around my shoulders as he leads me from the room.  The men grab Dwight and drag him in the opposite direction.