#she's so normal about this you guys its normal

[dxrlingluv]

What if like, Telemachus x reader

Where the reader is a poet or an artist, always complimenting Telemachus for his looks (or just anything about him in general)

Telemachus thought it was normal considering their job, but he overheard a conversation of reader and someone, and that "someone" suddenly blurted out

"wait...do you have a crush on prince Telemachus?" Which reader suddenly lost their "cool guy vibes" and started stuttering while face flush red

The Muse and The Prince

A/N : Thank you so much to my 200 followers ^_^ I didn’t expect to go this far at all. I am happy and I appreciate every single one of you! Telemachus art is from Gigi.

WARNING : GN!Reader, fluff

Word Count : 1.4k

The air in the palace halls often hummed with the murmur of courtly life, the clatter of servants, and sometimes, the resonant strumming of a lyre. For Telemachus, son of Odysseus, it was the familiar soundtrack to his days, a constant backdrop to the duties and uncertainties that shadowed his youth. Lately, however, a new melody had woven itself into this familiar tune, one composed of admiration and rendered in words or strokes of breathtaking artistry.

You, a poet or artist who had found a place within the Ithacan court, possessed a unique gift: the ability to capture the essence of things, to translate the mundane into the magnificent. And you seemed to find Telemachus a particularly compelling subject.

"Prince Telemachus," you might say, your voice alight with genuine appreciation as he stood framed by a sun-drenched window, "the way the light catches the bronze of your cuirass... it's like molten gold, a warrior forged in the heart of a star."

Or perhaps, if your art was the spoken word, you'd share a newly crafted verse:

*"Like the sturdy oak against the tempest's roar,*

*So stands Telemachus, strength to the very core.*

*His gaze, the distant sea on a cloudless day,*

*Holding depths untold in its steady sway."*

Telemachus, earnest and somewhat reserved, had initially been taken aback by these pronouncements. He was accustomed to respect, to deference due to his lineage, but this... this was different. It wasn't about his title or his future kingship; it was about him. His bearing, his gaze, the very way he stood.

He'd grown to expect it, though. It had become a pleasant, if slightly baffling, constant in his days. He reasoned that it was simply your way, the lens through which you viewed the world. Artists and poets, he mused, often saw things others missed, finding beauty and inspiration in the most unexpected places. Your compliments, though frequent and effusive, seemed to stem from a genuine appreciation, a professional admiration for a worthy subject. He accepted them with a polite nod and a quiet "Thank you," never quite knowing how else to respond.

One bustling afternoon, as you sat sketching in the outer courtyard, your charcoal dancing across the parchment with swift, sure strokes, you were engaged in conversation with one of the palace attendants, Elara. Telemachus happened to be passing by, his mind preoccupied with the latest rumors from the harbor, when a snippet of your exchange snagged his attention.

"...the way his brow furrows when he's deep in thought," you were saying, your voice softer now, almost wistful, "it speaks of such responsibility, such a weight carried with quiet dignity. And his smile, Elara, when it truly breaks through... it's like the sun after a long storm."

Elara chuckled, a knowing glint in her eye. "You certainly have a way with words, Y/N. You make the young prince sound like a god carved in marble."

You laughed, a light, airy sound. "Oh, he's no cold marble. There's a fire in him, a quiet strength that I try to capture in my work."

Then, Elara's tone shifted, becoming teasing. "Or perhaps it's not just his 'work' you're trying to capture, Y/N?" She paused, and then, with a sudden, mischievous grin, blurted out, "Wait... do you have a crush on Prince Telemachus?"

Time seemed to stutter. Telemachus, who had been about to continue on his way, froze behind a nearby pillar, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs. He held his breath, every nerve ending on high alert.

He saw your reaction without being seen. Your easy laughter died in your throat. Your posture, usually so relaxed and confident, stiffened. A blush, starting faintly at your neck, crept up your cheeks, painting them a delightful shade of crimson. You stammered, your usual eloquence deserting you.

"I- I... well- he...- he is... a very... uh...- a very... respectable prince," you managed, your gaze fixed on the unfinished sketch in your lap. Your fingers fidgeted with the edge of the parchment. The "cool guy vibes" Telemachus had subconsciously associated with your artistic confidence had completely evaporated, replaced by a palpable fluster.

Elara, ever the observant one, raised a knowing eyebrow, a silent "aha!" hanging in the air between you.

Telemachus felt a strange mix of emotions churning within him. Surprise, certainly. A flicker of something akin to... pride? And beneath it all, a burgeoning curiosity. He had always seen your admiration as purely professional, a detached appreciation for a subject worthy of your artistic eye. The possibility that it might be something more... it was a revelation.

He retreated silently, his mind racing. He replayed your compliments in his head, the way your eyes lingered on him when you spoke, the subtle nuances he had previously overlooked. Had he been so caught up in his own concerns, the weight of his father's absence and the suitors' insolence, that he had completely missed this?

The next few days were... different. Telemachus found himself more aware of your presence in the palace. He noticed the way you would subtly shift your gaze when he entered a room, the slight hesitation in your voice when you addressed him. He also found himself paying closer attention to your work, seeing not just the skill in your craft, but the emotion, the feeling that seemed to infuse it when he was the subject.

One evening, he found you alone in the palace gardens, the setting sun casting long shadows across the manicured lawns. You were sketching in a small notebook, the soft glow illuminating your focused expression. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to intrude, but a sudden impulse propelled him forward.

"The moon is beautiful tonight," he said, his voice a little rougher than usual.

You startled, your head snapping up. Your cheeks flushed again, though this time, the color seemed softer, tinged with surprise rather than embarrassment. "Oh, Prince Telemachus. I- I didn't see you there."

He stepped closer, his gaze drawn to the open page of your notebook. It was a sketch of the gardens at twilight, the familiar flora rendered with a delicate beauty.

"Your work is... remarkable," he said, the words feeling inadequate yet genuine.

You looked down at the notebook, a small, shy smile gracing your lips. "Thank you, my lord."

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the chirping of crickets. Telemachus found himself wanting to say more, to understand the way you saw him, the way you translated him into art and poetry.

"You... you often speak of my appearance, my... bearing," he began, feeling a little awkward. "I confess, I had thought it was merely the eye of an artist finding a subject."

You finally met his gaze, your eyes holding a depth that surprised him. "It is that, my lord. But... it is also more. You possess a strength, a quiet determination, that I find... inspiring. You carry the weight of your responsibilities with such grace, even in the face of such adversity." Your voice was soft, earnest. "And yes," you added, your gaze flickered downwards for a fleeting moment before returning to his, a hint of that earlier blush returning, "you are also... aesthetically pleasing."

A small smile touched Telemachus's lips. He found himself strangely disarmed by your honesty. "I- I appreciate your candor, Y/N."

Another silence fell, this one charged with a different kind of energy. Telemachus felt a pull, an unfamiliar curiosity drawing him closer. He had always been focused on duty, on the practicalities of his situation. But in your gaze, in your art, he saw a reflection of himself he hadn't fully recognized, a depth and a strength that went beyond his title.

"Your art... it makes me see things differently," he admitted, his voice quiet. "The palace, the people... even myself."

You looked up at him, your eyes shining with a warmth that made his chest feel strangely tight. "That is the power of art, my lord. To reveal the beauty that is already there."

He took a step closer, the scent of the evening blossoms mingling with the faint fragrance of charcoal that clung to your clothes. "Perhaps... perhaps you could show me more."

The air crackled with unspoken possibilities. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, mirroring the blush that now bloomed freely on your cheeks. In the quiet of the twilight garden, a new kind of melody began to unfold, one woven with the threads of admiration, vulnerability, and the unexpected stirring of something more profound.

The muse and the prince, finally seeing each other in a new light.

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: haku tells you a bedtime story that's a bit too familiar.

COMMENTS: this is a late birthday fic for @sunstirred :3 thank u for being such a lovely bright presence in the tkdb fandom!! i really hope you like this because. im worried i got too philosophical or something T0T PLEASE im so sorry im going to dig a hole and hide in it now im so worried it's horrible . WE BALL

Haku finds himself wondering if normalcy with you by his side could be possible.

Sure, he calls you princess, takes you on dates, and does all of the normal things a boyfriend would do. And maybe that should be enough to satisfy him—but it isn’t. The thought of your curse and his future hang above his head all the time, and even when he forgets in the midst of bliss it always bites him in the ass eventually. It’s selfish to keep you here.

“Haku,” you breathe, looking so soft under the bedsheets, all wrapped up in his bed, curled up next to him and no one else, “Tell me a bedtime story?”

He exhales sharply, a small smile spreading across his lips.

“Princess, you’ve made fun of me for my acting before—”

“C’mon, please?” you whine, shuffling even closer to him.

The sheets are cool against his skin, but with your body heat, he feels unimaginably warm. Is this love? It certainly feels like it.

“Once upon a time...there was a flower,” Haku begins.

He can tell you’re quite satisfied with the results of your pleading as you get comfortable. Your legs wrap around his and he sighs, tightening the grip he has on your waist.

“This flower was loved dearly by the wind,” he continues, “But the flower didn’t know just how badly the wind wanted to keep it.”

You’re nodding along. Haku’s hand slides up your waist and trails up your back.

“The wind blew harder, trying to get the flower to join it. The wind had so much freedom, but only because it fought hard to keep its freedom,” Haku murmurs, “The wind wanted nothing more than to have a life with the flower. It thought, if I can take this flower with me, I can finally know what it means to live as myself.”

You’re frowning. Maybe this story was a bit too sad, but now that he started he can’t just stop. And so, he takes another deep breath before continuing.

“The flower couldn’t be swept away by the wind, otherwise, it would die. The flower made its roots stronger, digging into the ground to escape the wind. It pleaded with the flower to let go, to be free with it, but the flower knew it couldn’t. She was more grounded than the wind.”

Whoops, slip of the tongue. Haku laughs to himself, and hopes you’d just brush it off.

A simple bedtime story shouldn’t make him feel so awful.

“And so, the wind howled and howled and howled, until one day. It stopped. The flower was able to withstand the most horrific of disasters because of how it dealt with the wind. It was able to survive, year after year, all while the gentle breeze kept watch.” Haku presses a single kiss to your forehead, “I think the wind realized that the flower had a different definition of freedom because it lead a different life.”

“The wind and the flower just need to coexist... you've spent too much time with Zenji,” you tease, but furrow your brow, “Haku...this sounds an awful lot like a metaphor for how humans and ghouls can’t—”

He kisses you. You grunt against his lips before laughing, leaning into his touch. He knows you don’t care about any of that—sharp, clever you—but he can’t help himself from wanting to keep you right here.

You belong here, by his side. And even if he isn’t the guy you fell in love with one day, he knows you’ll still love him all the same.

You’re his hope. Haku knows, deep down, an undeniable truth, that he would do anything—anything at all—to make sure your future was forever safe and protected.

At the end of it all, Haku just wants to be your future, simply as the man who loves you.

[marauder-misprint]

Congrats on 1,000 followers! I just recently found your writing and started binge reading. I was wondering if you could write the getting asked out prompt; “one problem, you hate me.” with George Weasley. Something like f!reader’s close with Fred but has always secretly liked George and George acts cold towards her because he think she’s interested in Fred when he’s always fancied her?

Thank you! ❤︎ I swear I posted my 1,000 Followers celebration and then immediately forgot how to write. Brains are stupid.

BUT! I am happy to be slowly expanding my Golden Trio era writing ❤︎

Hope you enjoy ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

One Problem

George Weasley x reader

1.9k words

cw: pining, fluff, y/n

For most people, Fred and George were a package deal. If you were friends with one, you were automatically friends with the other. You were one of the few who only managed to befriend one of them. You and Fred served a detention together during first year and since then, you have been friends. George also had detention that night, but he was halfway across the school with a different professor. Professors learned quickly to not put Fred and George in the same detention. 

Somehow in all the times you went to Gryffindor parties and Hogsmeade with Fred, George never seemed to get the memo that you and Fred were friends. In all the times you did homework with Fred, walked with him to class, talked to him during said classes and even sat with him during meals, George rarely interacted with you. You only minded a little bit because if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to respond if he did talk to you for longer than thirty seconds. 

Through your friendship with Fred, you’ve been able to be near George. Close enough to know that he uses a different cologne than Fred, that his handwriting is more swoopy than Fred’s, that he’s more of the brains behind their pranks and products while Fred is the idea guy. You find yourself laughing harder at George’s jokes and staring at him during quidditch practices and games. You were simply drawn to George.

It felt like some kind of cruel joke that you’re able to have such a close relationship with Fred while crushing hard on George. 

“Fred!” you called, jogging to catch up to the twins as they walked to Hogsmeade. 

“Hey! No girls today?” he asked once you got closer. 

George shifted slightly away from you on the path and you tried to ignore it.

“No. They all got dates. There must be something in the air or something…” you said, shaking your head. “My options were to either cry in the library over Snape’s essay or hope to run into you.”

“You have time to turn back,” George muttered.

You shot him a quick glare before turning back to Fred. “D’you mind if I tag along? Or is this precious twin time?”

“You’re always welcome with us,” Fred said, throwing a loose arm over your shoulder. “Right, Georgie?” 

“Right,” he grumbled with an eye roll that Fred missed. 

It became more clear that you weren’t intruding on twin time when Lee joined the group in Hogsmeade. As things normally went when it was the four of you, you split into two pairs: you and Fred, Lee and George. The boys’ first stop was always Zonko’s. You never bought anything for yourself in there, but you loved watching the three of them start to formulate prank ideas as they browsed the stands. Even just watching the boys shop, your eyes lingered on George. You never worried about getting caught staring; George didn’t look at you. 

The next stop was Honeydukes. This was where you spent your galleons. Fred followed you around like a shadow so he could influence your purchases with the hopes of being allowed to mooch off of your haul. George walked around the shop with Lee, but much like you in Zonko’s, his gaze found its way to you. 

“You’re staring again,” Lee sighed as he decided on which flavor of sugar quill he wanted. He didn’t need to actually look at George to know that he was staring. 

“I’m not.” George diverted his eyes from you. “You always pick the red one. Doubt you’re going to branch out now.” 

“You know you’d have a better shot with her if you actually talked to her, rather than creepily staring at her from across the store?” 

George snorted a laugh. “No shot with her to be had, Lee. She obviously fancies Fred.”

“If she fancies him, how come they haven’t snogged? She’s proper fit.”

“I don’t know. Do I look like Fred to you?” George sighed once he saw Lee’s face and realized what he said. “Don’t answer that, you twat.”

“Just givin’ you my advice, that’s all. You got to relax and talk to her. She’s just a girl.” 

George wanted to laugh. Just a girl. A girl that Fred brought around, introduced to their friends and allowed to stay. A girl who fit in perfectly and who was perfect, in every way except for the fact that she liked Fred. Well, liking Fred wasn’t the issue, fancying him was. He thought it was obvious in the way that you looked at him and always walked up to his side. Even though you’ve been around their friends for years, you still went to Fred first. You always went to Fred. 

After you and Lee purchased your sweets, Lee had the group stop for some ink and extra parchment before you made your way to the Three Broomsticks. It seemed like every student in Hogsmeade had descended on the pub. You lingered by the door as you searched for an open table. The group had to wait for a few minutes until some seventh years got up to leave. Lee was first to the table to claim it. 

“I’ll get the butterbeers,” Fred said, leaving you with Lee and George. 

You sat quietly, looking from George to Lee and back. As usual, George wouldn’t look at you and Lee had a permanent look of amusement on his face. Fred came back with the four mugs, handing the first one to you. He sat down next to you after sliding two across the table. 

“Right, so you were talking about Snape’s essay earlier. I have not started that,” Fred said. 

“So glad I don’t have to deal with those anymore,” Lee said, picking up his mug. 

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of dropping Potions, Jordan,” you sighed. “I’m stuck with Potions and Herbology forever.”

“What was it you want to do after Hogwarts?” Lee asked.

“Healer,” you and George said at the same time.

You gave George a curious look. You were frankly surprised that he remembered. He had been around a few times when you talked about it with Fred, but you didn’t think he was paying attention. He looked away from you and you swore the tips of his ears were slightly pink. Odd. 

“Right, right, because you’re always fixing these two after a prank gone wrong,” Lee laughed. 

“Oi!” Fred claimed, making you laugh and Lee laugh harder.

“You’ve certainly given me some good practice!” you said, bumping his shoulder with yours. “I’ve gotten quite good!”

“Your episkey hurts,” George deadpanned.

“Well, it’s either painful episkey from me or having to explain to Pomfrey why seven of your toes were broken.” 

“You could’ve numbed my feet first!”

“I didn’t have that potion with me.”

“That’s why you can’t drop Potions,” Fred said. “Can’t have you fixing toes without numbing potions.” 

“Very unprofessional of you,” Lee said.

“Not a healer yet, boys. But once I am, I promise you, my services won’t be free to you gits.”

Fred gasped dramatically. “You’re going to charge us?” 

“How else am I going to make a living?”

“I got a few ideas of what you could–fuck, ow!” Lee said, earning him at least a kick from you. He also got kicked by both of the twins. 

The conversation shifted to Fred and George’s next products. There was some spitballing and brainstorming. Then homework came up again. More essays. A story about how a mandrake bit Lee during second year. And Fred showing off a scar on his arm from the garden gnomes at the Burrow. 

Soon enough, it was time for you to return to Hogwarts. You walked with Lee as the twins fell a little behind. Lee was attempting to convince you to share your Charms essay with him for “inspiration” and you told him to get “inspiration” from Fred or George’s essays. Apparently, they were going to use his. Which brought him back to asking for yours. 

“You ‘ight, mate?” Fred asked, giving George a sideways glance. 

He sighed. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You ever kissed Y/N?”

Fred stumbled and mumbled, “Damn rocks,” when you briefly looked over your shoulder at him. Then he looked at George with narrowed eyes. “No. I haven’t. Never will. We don’t like each other like that.” 

George didn’t say anything. His thoughts lingered on how certain Fred sounded when he said we don’t. He was speaking for you too, but did he actually know? 

“You thinking about kissing her?” Fred asked after a few seconds.

“I… erm… might work up to it? You know, she’s pretty and stuff.”

Fred laughed. “And stuff!”

“You’re sure she doesn’t fancy you?” George asked, feeling a tad awkward about it all. Asking his brother if his good friend fancies him, and debating taking his shot if the answer’s no.

“Yeah. I think I’d know by now if she did.” Fred nudged George with his elbow. “Give it a go. You’re a pretty handsome bloke, if I do say so myself. And worst she can say is no, right?” 

“Yeah… Right.” 

George didn’t attempt to talk to you for the rest of the night. He didn’t change how he acted around you for a few days. He didn’t want to ask around Fred and you were always around Fred. George needed to get you alone. 

His chance came up when you were waiting for your friends outside of the library. Fred was off with Lee somewhere. You were alone, flipping through your Potions book with a frown on your face.

“Y/N,” he said, standing in front of you.

You lifted your eyes to look at George. Then you looked around. George didn’t talk to you unless Fred or Lee was around, and neither were. 

“Yeah?”

“I was wondering if you… if you’d want to go on a date with me sometime?”

Your heart stopped. George just asked you out? You’d always wanted this but it felt weird to actually have it happen. He can normally barely look at you.

You closed your book and crossed your arms. “One problem: you hate me.”

“I… I don’t hate you.”

“Sure act like it.”

George bounced on the balls of his feet briefly as his face flushed.

“That’d be because I really like you and thought you might fancy Fred.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Me and Fred? There’s nothing there besides good ol’ friendship.”

“So what about me? D’you think there could be something other than friendship here?” he asked, gesturing between you.

You bit the inside of your lip. This felt so out of character for George; well, being directed at you it was out of character. This George was the one you saw interacting with others. 

“You’re genuinely asking? Not some extravagant Weasley prank?” 

He nodded. 

“Then yes. I’d like that quite a lot. I mean, as long as you promise to actually look at me and talk to me?” 

“I can do that. I’ll even hold your hand if you’re up to it.”

“I probably will.” You smiled and then caught sight of your friends over George’s shoulder. “Erm, I see my friends, but I’m looking forward to our date.”

“Me too. I’ll talk to you later.”

He winked at you before turning to leave with more pep in his step than he had in a while. 

tags: @navs-bhat

[ishiniku]

Well dang, chapter 126 is... something, who could have guessed. sighs 

But I decided as my first post here to just give some opinion on this chapter, wanting to point some things I really got interested.

CHAPTER 126 SPOILERS + some thoughts on it as bonus

Well, thanks for the help unknown-cat, btw what do you mean "And I know what that feels like?" —It sounded so..."I've been through something similar, so I understand how she feels"...— I think we still have a lot to discover about what happened in this timeline.  

And wow, we found out how Sandclock works and it rules: 

You can't just say you're back from the future, and I believe you probably can't say anything related to the Sandclock, or perhaps nothing from the future too. Damn this thing is pulling the wool over your eyes Yashiro. 

You can come back as many time as you wish, but when you come back you only have one chance to change it, because you won't be able to come back again at that moment. You have a short time to change what you want, that is, until the last sand falls. 

Btw, hourglass is such a... Grrrrrr please Aidairo give me a human materialized form of the it to me so I can draw it getting beat up. Nothing good comes out with using it, the hourglass always makes you WANT to change the past, and when you think you got what you wanted, something terrible happens. 

Well it's like it says Nene,

"Again and again.''

Baby Tsukasa jumpscare for y'all...  gurl got possessed, i did know the moment he popped in my screen that Yashiro was doomed.

THIS IS SO SAD MAN. One of their mothers called in their phone...Who would be? I hope it's Kou's mother hah... And it could this be important? I don't know, I think it's more to emphasize that they are human, they have family, they have their own life, they have people caring about them...How nice...They died btw!! 😋 

Imagine your best friend dedicating her last moments trying to help you get out of your trance and giving you a warm, caring, tight hug as a goodbye? Wow Aoinene angst is so tasty!! Aida&iro why you two so good at creating doomed narratives?????

Nene smile at least now your body count is 5!! Please get the joke. (Not that I think you killed 5 people this easily with this little knife, not that I doubt the capabilities of possession, but like... Two normal people, one clockeepers and two exorcists? hardcore, I know octopusamane helped you.) 

..Entity... Good job at being disgusting, this is something this thing doesn't fail at all. (btw where is the trigger warning in this chaper Aida...)/srs

She came back to 103rd anniversary of Kamome Gakuen? She said she panicked, I believe this has led her to a completely random time, or maybe there is something important on this date...

YEAH HELP HER DAMN IT, ITS YOUR FAULT. It's shocking the world, it's heartbreaking, Akane is still alive. 

sorry, I promise I love him, I just have a slight hate-love relationship w/ all the characters of TBHK, frantic coughing  

Now why is Akane here? He is clearly very calm in the situation, "I finally found you" He knew this would happen, I imagine the other Akanes who died are from the their own timelines, but this one... Where is him from? "Our" timeline (can we pretty please call Hanako timeline as "Our") or the original timeline?! Don't know HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. But he was clearly saw the changes Yashiro tried to do, since he was looking for her, but probably when he was finally close to finding her, she used the hourglass. 

This chapter and the next ones to follow literally will give a BIG change/grow in Nene character and probably her relationships too, think about how traumatizing this experience was guys...I'm literally not complaining, just sad.

Plus, they are giving a lot of weight to the entity of the redhouse, the root of the problem; Of course, Tsukasa w/ entity was somehow violent, but this?!?? Guys?... This just proves the fact that Tsukasa somehow stabilized him by idk merging his soul with the monster??? How? Why? How many control does Tsukasa or the Entity has, its 50% or perhaps Tsukasa has more control? We still have many things to be answered. (Honestly I like the theory that Tsukasa merged with the Pit God by eating it, I just don't know how to explain how this would work.) 

One of the bloodiest chapters so far,I wonder if ever we're getting some chapter w/ more gore than this. And honestly Aida&Iro exceeded my expectations. 1000000000000/10. my reaction to the chapter is this image below.

[delusionalalien]

[Embrace You, Devour You] [Chapter 7] YANDERE!Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader x YANDERE!Variant!Invincibles

I HAVE WAY TOO MANY DRAFTS AND MISTAKES THAT I HAVE DONE WHILE MAKING THIS!!!! I accidentally published this TWICE, the app on my phone does not like me, no cap, it said 'save as draft' and the next thing i see is someone liking this shit when its only half way finish💀💀

Anyway, garbage as usual lmao. No Mark btw, you guys can skip this.

NOTE : I do NOT speak Russian, and I used google translate for the Russian bits, i'm so sorry for any Russian people reading this hot garbage of a fanfic.

prologue

previous chapter , ???

T.W / Tags: Slow-burn, Soft yandere, pining, mark is bat shit crazy but he good dw, baby-trapping, teen pregnancy, yandere variants, mark a lil pushy, breeding kink, jealous Mark Grayson, talks of abortion, misunderstandings, possessive Mark Grayson, murder, gore, child-murder(variant!readers), attempted suicide, murder-suicide(variant!readers), OOC, yandere!mom, prob need more tags

Weird ass dreams and you actually have family lore???

You felt the urge to mourn.

You had no recollections of what happened before you came here. All you knew this wasn't the earth you know, nature took over the planet, the sky a deep orange and a strange massive oak tree standing at the middle of it all.

a glowing green power shined inside it's body, dormant, angry, and isolated. Betrayed and stabbed by an axe which left imprints at the base, a scar, a reminder of what it went through.

There was an urge to comfort the alien plant, perhaps it was simply your mind playing tricks on you. There was no way a tree could feel human emotions.

You feel cold as you walk around it. You need to find home, but where is home exactly? This wasn't the earth you know of and you have no clue who or what brought you here in the first place.

You followed the roots of the first tree that protruded from the ground to another clearing where yet another oak tree stands, this time, normal for its height.

The last tree had vibrant colors, this one was dull in comparison to that green shine. You stopped for a brief moment to take in the sight before you.

Despite it's normal appearance and dull color, you can't help but touch the base of the tree and you flinched, stepping back when the shine swirled unnaturally when you touched it.

It seemed friendly, whatever these are they are definitely sentient to some degree.

You made distance with the oak, it didn't feel right to feel scared but you moved on your own feet, reminding yourself that you have to find a way back home and that sticking to one location is never a good idea- at least according to your mother's questionable survival guide she had passed down to you.

You pondered what your parents are doing, they probably filed a missing persons report on you and since you don't quite know how long you've been gone, you only hope its only been a day, and you started praying you weren't kidnapped by actual aliens from another planet.

Your train of thoughts also lingered further as you walk mindlessly through the dense forest. You think of Mark and how he was doing. You wished you cleared up the misunderstanding's about Todd before you came here, how you should have been honest with yourself and confessed.

Still, fear holds you back, you fear change, you are terrified of changing what you both have now. Knowing one day he's going to find someone and he looks at them like how you look at him all your life.

Mark is a friend, you know that, and you delude yourself that you're okay with just being friends, the next door childhood friend that will one day also find someone to love- someone who isn't Mark.

It repulsed you. The idea of someone else in your lives when you love him too much to give him away. Call it an obsession but you'd rather fight for the both of you to stay single for the rest of your life.

You tripped and fell on the grass when your foot caught itself on a stone, you hadn't realized you started crying in the middle of your crisis.

Stupid feelings.

Stupid lies.

Stupid you.

Why of all people has it have to be Mark?

Why does it feel like the world would tear itself apart when you aren't with him?

Why him?

Because he's Mark Grayson.

You're first love and possibly your last. The dork next door that would listen to you rant or ramble in the middle of the night with all the attention on you, the boy who would catch a lizard for you in recess just because you called them cool despite how scared he was touching one, the boy next door who shows up and glues himself on you with every chance he gets and spends most of your summers locked in your room dozing off or playing video games.

That was Mark Grayson, and to him?

You are nothing but a best friend. His ride or die, the girl next door who listens to him ramble about the new release of seance dog, the one who would put him in stupid situations, the girl who has a questionable love interest on Todd.

And who are you to make you change his mind?

You made your bed along ago, you just refused to lie still in it.

You leaned yourself onto a tree, small, insecure, but you felt the most safe within it's small dome, its little sanctuary in the middle of nowhere. It took you a minute to calm down and realized you hadn't gone that far at all from the second oak tree and from the distance you can still see the first tree towering above the head of the rest of the planets in this world.

The smaller oak you leaned to was still growing to maturity, the seconds tree's roots intertwined with the smaller one just like the first one did.

There was no green shine in its body not even a minuscule of it, just a normal tree with a parent tree root embracing its child.

You sat down and scoots further on the small tree where you feel safe. Where you can drown yourself in your own emotions without the feeling of being judged.

You want Mark to be here,

You want your mom to be here,

You want to hear your dad,

You want to hear Debbie giggle,

You want to see Nolan give you his best awkward comfort smiles,

You miss William and his loud comments,

You miss everyone back home, they're probably all worried sick about you,

How do you even go back home?

When did you fall asleep?

Soft fingers strokes your face, it wiped the salted tears away and she whispered soothing words into your ears, Russian was a language your mother didn't bother teaching you, as to why you don't know yourself, this woman is unmistakably speaking Russian to you, whispering soft words of encouragement.

"Вы должны проснуться!"

"Не заканчивай здесь свою жизнь!"

"Приди ко мне, дитя мое!"

"Вот и всё, иди сюда, дорогая."

Why was half your body inside the tree?

She held your hands and pry's you away from the plant in desperation, gathering her strength and she held you close when you are thrown out of the tree's hollow inside. You breathe heavily and watched the tree you we're resting on shamefully closed, the imprint of your body fading slowly as if it understood its irrational behavior of consuming you was wrong and selfish.

You could have died back there, and yet a stranger saved you.

"T-thank you saving me..."

She was massive, not as near as the same physique as your mother, but she was almost the same build. She has sharp features like your mother however, almost creepily identical and you flinched when she furrows her brows in anger.

"О чем ты думал! У тебя есть желание умереть? Что тебя так беспокоит, что ты хочешь покончить с собой?"

"I, I'm sorry? Miss i don't understand what you're saying."

There was a long pause before she sighed, her shoulders slump in defeat, you watch her stand up and motion for you to follow, despite everything, something tells you to obey without further questions. Perhaps because she was human in a nonhuman world, your instincts screams to survive.

You walked behind her, glancing back at the tree that almost consumed you and shuddered. You could have died, you got too comfortable and ended up almost giving up your life and the oddest thing is, you don't even hold any sort of resentment towards it.

Your body slams to a stop when the mystery woman stood still, she points towards a hole on the ground, her face unreadable but serious in the way she spoke.

"Home."

Home? You step a little closer to the hole, it was an endless abyss down there and you're beginning to doubt that she was even here to help you, looking back at the woman, she crossed her arms and waits for you to jump in.

"I'm sorry but this doesn't look safe."

Maybe she speaks and understand minimal English that would explain how she seems to understand you to a certain level. She shakes her head and comes up to you just to jab her finger right where you're heart is.

"Return."

"Return?" You repeat and she nods.

"Return, home." She points back at the hole once more then at you.

"Sorry, I don't understand how this hole is going to bring me back to earth."

A frustrated huff left her lips, she chew the inside of her cheeks thinking, finding words she could convince you to jump, and you wait for her to speak, the more the silence grew the more you think you have to be on your own to find your way back home.

A spaceship would be great about now.

"You, soul, home, body, return."

"wh-"

You didn't even get to ask before she actually shoved you. You flail your arms around trying to catch anything to stop your fall, screaming as the orange sky began to disappear and the silhouette of your murderer fades.

Fuck your life.

-

You jolt from slumber. Mouth opened to scream but no noise did come out. What the hell did you dream about? You're then hit with a throbbing sensation in every part of your body.

Everything hurts. The pain you feel was like being struck by a truck going pass the speed limit down the road to end you, the mattress felt thin and stiff making you squirm and groan once your entire senses came back at full force.

You can make out the faint smell medicine wavering in the air, the bed would creaked on occasion if you shifted, your face was numbed with something clings onto your cheeks like sticker, your arms are no better, needles inserted in your veins and supplying you whatever nutrients you needed..

You felt dizzy when you sat up, and you're careful not to accidentally push the needle to where it shouldn't be. You felt nauseous and scared.

How long have you been out? What happened? Why are you in the hospital with these bandages wrapped around you?

Like a second truck coming out of nowhere to finish the job, you're hit with the last memories before you went unconscious out, you were alone underneath the bench and in the mercy of your own company, begging death not to take you, recalling Rebecca and her goons walk away from your body submerged in your own vomit, the way they laughed and tortured you.

You cried. Sobbing in your bruised hands as you let it all out. The agony they made you feel, how you felt pathetic and small while in their mercy as you took on their assault, blow after blow begging and crying out for help and mercy.

You hear the door open, you didn't stop your tears, nor try to shame the emotions you felt before your father went inside.

He froze on that doorway, his eyes red and tired. You felt bad for everyone, the pain they must have gone through just to wait for you to wake up, to know what happened.

It wasn't long before Nicolas held you in his arms, holding your head against his chest as he feel you tremble in his arms, crying to him, for your mother to hold you, to surround you in their presence, and Nicolas hushes you and kissing your head in comfort.

"I'm here,"

"You're safe, nothing is going to harm you now,"

"Let it all out, (Name)."

You drowned in his comfort, his smell, his voice, the way he sooth you in a tight embrace. You believe him, you survived in what you felt was death guiding you to the afterlife, surviving what felt like an eternity of torture, and he lets you cry, again and again.

Because you're his little girl.

And nothing will ever change that.

Not in a hundred years, not even millions.

So Nicolas didn't speak, he didn't stop you from crying, acknowledging what you went through, understanding his grounds as a father.

And for you it was enough.

-

Note: when i got bullied my dad just stared at me from across the room. All my crying must have went to his head because he told me to shut up and do the chores (he also threw a notebook at me)💀💀💀💀💀💀 GOD GIVE ME A DAD LIKE NICOLAS!!1!11! #copium #developeddaddyissueswithme

[itsjustt-elli]

Shes at your window pt.2

Stalker!Abby x Loser!Reader

But check your windows.. Shes at your window

—Tyler The Creator —She

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Summary:You decided to be brave and speak to her.. But God, Dina is always butting in.

Tags::squirt,oral/eating you out,praise kìñķ, yeah thats it..

A/n: Genuinely did not expect this to blow up… I love you guys tho😌💗

MEN & MINORS DNI

…..

It was so easy to catch her.

Abby didn’t even try to hide the fact that she put cameras in ur house. Well, yeah she did but she didn’t do a good job. Like, at all.

How did you find out? While you were getting for bed one day the corner of your room lit up, lit up red, like a little recording dot almost, ‘Was somebody watching you?’ ‘Out of all people, why you?’ ‘Maybe you were just seeing things, and nobody was watching you. Oh, or maybe it was spider with red eyes.’ Whatever this is stupid.

Then you fell asleep. The next day, you woke up, got dressed, put on your shoes and walked out. Sure, this day is like every other day, but God, it was eating you from the inside out, was somebody actually genuinely interested in watching YOU, out of the 9 billion people in the world. You?

You walked into your local coffee shop, like any other day, and asked for your normal order. You sat down at a table while waiting. A woman was sitting across from you wearing a black hat, tight fitted black shirt that fit her biceps like a match made in heaven, and sweatpants, oh yeah, oh yeah, and she was super hot. ‘Does she think she’s mysterious or something? Eh, whatever.’

You thought to yourself all other kinda stupid thoughts like;

‘ I wonder if she’s my age’

‘I should ask for her number’

‘She looks gay’

‘I’m gonna cry if she’s straight’

‘Its definitely pin-‘

“[ᝰ.ᐟ] come get your order.” You were way to distracted thinking about this random women to even hear the employee calling your name for your order— “Oh, sorry!” You walked up to the counter grabbing your drink.

@graciedollie creds to this lovely writer <3

“Err,”— the employee struggled, “Abby?” They said out a name. Pretty name. “Thanks.” she said with a slight smile on her face. She looked like an angel, did you just fall in love with a random stranger?

Abby walked up to the counter grabbing her things. While she was doing that she happen to set her phone down, you looked over at it glancing slightly, then her phone lit up with a notification; ‘Motion detected. 11:09 AM’

Oh, it’s nothing just her security system. Till she clicked on the notification, there it was, your bedroom. The camera pointing in just the right angle to get all the angles and portions of your bed room.

She could see. Everything.

She turned off her phone so quick that you could barely process what you just saw she slightly peeked at you through her lashes, then her face got pink and she looked away quick, like she knew you or something?

I mean, obviously she did, she was your biggest fan.

“Hey-” you tried to talk to her, but damn, she walked out so quick you couldn’t even get the chance to finish your sentence.

So that day you went home and searched up Abby, on TikTok, Instagram, Snapchat, and Facebook. Abby, Abby, Abby, Ab— there she was on Facebook— Abby Anderson.

Honestly, you got lucky, all her accounts are private and she doesn’t talk to anyone except her dog. Alice. That doesn’t matter though.

Now, looking at her up close, jeez, she was breathtakingly beautiful; pretty lips shaped in a Cupid shape, long blond hair pulled into a braid, hazel blueish eyes, and a soft smile. And also, shes built like a Greek goddess, like Aphrodite and Zeus had a love baby.

You felt like you’ve seen her before, numbers of times actually, almost like she was following you. If you were in grocery; store she was in the grocery store, if you’re going to sleep; shes watching you, if you were at a party; she was to.

How did she know you were doing this stuff? Well, she follows your instagram account where you post all your pictures stuff but you also post updates.

So, she knew if you were going somewhere. Oh yeah, she also put an AirTag in your car. So there’s no way you can escape her.

God, she was an obsessed loser. You were to.

Once you found her account you couldn’t stop looking at her. I mean honestly how could you. Your obsession had gotten so bad that you started moaning her name as you finished.

Oh, this was bad.

You wanted to talk to her, so bad. But you never got the chance too. She would always shy away from you.

It ends now.

So, you asked your friend Dina to throw a party with her girlfriend. A little get together almost, and invite Abby.

How? Well, you’re gonna post Dina’s party invitation, act all excited or whatever, and tag Abby in the post. You figured out her account pretty soon after you did your research.

“Party at Dina’s tonight! So excited.”

Was the caption you put for your post. You tagged Dina, Ellie, Jesse, blah blah blah, and of course— Abby.

Your hands shaked as you sent the post button.

»»

It’s been a few hours and you made it to the party, and Abby still hasn’t showed up.

‘I knew this was stupid anyways.’

You thought to yourself.

“Yo, [ᝰ.ᐟ]— jesse called out your name “come over here were playing spin the bottle.” you scoffed, “childish” you said walking over.

A couple minutes go by and this stupid fucking bottle hasn’t landed on you yet, and you were glad actually, ellie was your best friends; dina, girlfriend, jesse is a guy, and all the rest of these people who you didn’t know looked disgusting.

Then the front door opened.

“Hey guys sorry i’m late i had to do someth—“. there she was, Abby fucking Anderson. She paused after seeing you.

Dina yelled out “come on over it’s totally fine”she was hammered.

Abby looked around her eyes roaming carefully before pausing by the empty space by you. She walked over as you looked at her through your lashes, all dressed up and pretty. Just for her.

“C-can i sit right here?..” her voice made you wanna scream, God she was attractive.

you kinda half whispered “Sure.” She took a seat next to you on the floor, letting out a groan of relief. you examined her closely.

Black baggy jeans, low enough to see her boxer line; classic. White wife beater and a jean jacket to top it all off. Oh yeah, and her carabiner, duh.

“Alrightuhh— dina yelled out louder enough to snap you out your trance “spin the bott—“ she stopped suddenly and her half lidded eyes shot over to you and abby, shoulder to shoulder.

“You, abby switch with ellie” she slurred.

Oh god, ellie was right across from you. Dina smirked at you as abby and ellie stood up to switch pleaces, oh, she knew what she was doing.

“Alright, spin the bottle” Ellie said, her loud voice hurting your ears.

you watched it closely as it spun around fast, then it got slower, and slower, and slower the it stopped. Oh great just your luck. It landed right across in a straight line.

Which also meant it landed on you and abby.

“Ooooo— dina followed on, she was making this more embarrassing then it needed to be.

“You know what, i think you guys should do 7 minutes in heaven” dina said, not clearly, but she still said it.

Followed by that was an array of ‘Ooo’s across the room. “No, no guys, we barely even know each other” abby exclaimed.

You nodded your head in agreement, you were actually thanking dina in your head.

“nope no excuses—” ellie told you.

“fine” you sighed. you stood and grabbed abby’s hand helping her up. “Have funnn” Dina teased.

You guided abby’s hand to the guest bedroom closed the door and locked it. not like you guys were gonna be doing anything anyways, right?

The silence stood loud.

Awkward almost. God you can’t stand this feeling of awkward. “So.. Uhm..” you broke the silence.

Abby followed after you.. “We should probably just kiss just to you know.. make them happy.”

“Right.” you moved closer to her, you could feel her heart beating fast and the heat radiating off her body.

You slightly pecked her on the lips, she was so damn tall you had to get on your tippy toes.

Well, it was just supposed to be a peck, till she leaned in for more, she has been craving your taste since, God, she forgot.

The quick peck turned into a low slow make out her sweet taste covering your tongue and lips.

she whimpered and moaned into your mouth as her hands roamed your body, studying every curse.

“Mm— i’ve wanted you for so fucking long baby.” she said inbetween kisses. “Yeah?” you groaned.

Her knees just buckled.

She snuck her hand down slowly her fingers finding your jean waistband. She fidgeted with the button a bit before unzipping the zipper.

You moaned at the cold sensation hitting ur core “ah— abby” she kissed down your neck, to your chest, to your belly button, she inched lower and lower just to tease you.

“You’re such a tease” you giggled slightly, her brows furrowed, “i’ve been told.” she chuckled. she looked down, then back up, and down again at your zipper.

Your zipper read; ‘lucky you’. “Oh, very mature” she laughed.

“What ? What did i do?” you asked confused. “Lucky you?..” she said looking up at you. Oh, oops “I guess it was just a coincidence” you joked. “Yeah right” she laughed.

She pullled down your jeans and spread your legs out over the white sheets and blue sheets.

Her jaw slightly clinched at the sight of your soaked panties, now clinging to your folds. Her fingers grazed over it slightly, enough to send shivers down your spine.

You bit your lip and lifted ur hips indicating her to take off your panties, and jeez, she wasted zero time. “I’m sorry” was all you heard before the sound of cotton ripping filled the room. She just tore your panties off you in two seconds.

That got you even wetter.

Your drenched swollen cunt was right in abby’s face, and it was calling her name.

Next thing you know, your cunt feels warm, the warmness of abby’s wet tounge lapped over your cunt making almost pornograpic sounds.

“Oh— fuck abby, please” you moaned out. Her hands reached over your mouth, “shh, princess don’t want the others to hear, yeah?”

She continued to fuck your starving cunt with her tongue all while praising you with words like;

‘I know baby, I know.”

‘shh, shh, shh, it’s okay i got you’

‘ you’re doing so good princess’

‘Good girl your doing so well’

’Mhm, you taste so good’

It was heaven, suddenly the knot in your stomach ached closer indicating your gonna cum. “Mm- abby m’ gonna cum”

She chuckled sending vibrations through your cunt “Cum all over my face princess— show me in the only one who can make you feel this good.”

Then it happened, your eyes rolled back and ur voice cracked in attempt of trying to say her name all while the clear and white liquid gushed out of you. leaving a cast on her tongue.

She laughed and gave your cunt a few kisses before getting up and kissing you slightly with one hand on your throat subtly pushing down.

“Fuck, you taste amazing..” she sighed climbing next to you. “Did i make that mess?” you chuckle looking down. The previous blue and white sheets were now see through and stained. all with your arousal.

“Mhm” she smiled slightly.

You laughed, then stopped realizing that you didn’t do anything for her.

“Abby,— you said looking at her, her head snapped towards you “hm?”

“You didn’t get off did you?” you asked. “ I mean, no but it’s totally fine i don’t mi—” You cut her off “Nuh uh— i wanna make sure your okay too.” she smirked.

“Whatever your say goes” she chuckled leaning in for a kiss.

Funny how you guys went to stalking each other to fucking. isn’t it?

────୨ৎ────

A/n:: so sorry this took hella long to reslease. Also kinda rushed at the end. I have the flu and while I was writing this it really kicked me in the butt😭

────୨ৎ────

@graciedollie @liliofabby @mewl3tte @eddiesdrummergf @spirituallesbian @cloudyorgy @moonystoes

All my tags— so sorry if I forgot you💔

[ihaznoclue]

Nicole demara, Anby demara, and Nekomiya mana with a boyfriend who's clumsy and kinda shy or is hyperactive. Except when it'd comes either fighting or keeping his girlfriend safe. Them he's weirdly hyper competent and dangerously fast. The thing is, he doesn't really notice that he switches up like that and thinks it's normal

Pairings -> Nicole Demara x Male Reader, Anby Demara x Male Reader, Nekomiya Mana x Male Reader

Warnings -> None

Note -> Reader is very clumsy and very hyperactive though except when it comes to fighting or keeping his girlfriend safe

Genre -> Fluff

NICOLE DEMARA

Nicole low-key thougt you were just another chaotic himbo when she met you, literally tripping over nothing or just your own feet, getting stuck somewhere or calling someone by someone elses name

Your hyperactive matches her energy in the most worse and best ways possible

You talk too fast, interrupt your own thoughts out loud and somehow manage to start three conversation at once if you were hyper enough

She has multiple videos of you attempting to do a sick parkour move in between some park playground which ends up faceplanting on your face

They're basically her favourite thing to laugh at

BUt for the first time when you guys were in a hollow, you dropped into a combat stance which shocked Nicole a bit

You took out three enemies with movements so fast it made Anby and Nicole do a double take, even Billy was shocked

After that, you cheerily asked Nicole is she wanted to grab bublle tea, as you were completely unaware that you just went into fill anime protagonist mode

Nicole lives for this now as she calls you her 'adorable disaster'

ANBY DEMARA

Anby just watches you stumble over your own feet again and sighs and calmly says 'Your awareness is concerning me'

You bounce around the room, knocking into furniture and rambling about the hollow outbreak you read about

Not noticing you just kicked over her burger, you were.. dead..

She also finds your energy.. exhausting but somehow comforting to her

You're the only one who gets to drag her out of her head sometimes

Even the first time she your 'combat switch mode' it was during a mission where a Ethereal lunged at her

You basically teleported, one second you were fumbling over a thing and the next you'd slashed the ethereal with your weapon in two

Anby stood there for a while, trying to process what just happened in front of her

Then you went back to talking about your snacks and how excited you were to eat them once your done

Anby's fascinated to say the least and slightly unnerved

NEKOMIYA MANA

Nekomiya finds you hilarious, you;re the only person she met who managed to get stuck inside a trash can while chasing a butterfly

You two are pure chaos together, she throws things at you to see if you'll drop them

She thought you were a funny little gremlin guy with too much energy with nothing stopping you at first

And then she changed her option as you saw a criminal guy threatening her during a hollow raid mission

You were dead silent, slipping in front of her and too the enemy down

Then when you turned around with your usual goofy grin and said to her "Did you see that flip I did earlier? I think I bruised my elbow"

Then she realized you had no clue how terrifyingly good you were at switching moods

Like a cat with two mood, one knocking cup off the table or two killing with your claws

She loves that you're not aware of your power you hold but it means you're protecting her naturally

Its just instinct

-A<3

[celebratorypenguinpittfan]

Fic: Icarus Lives

2100+ words, rated T for language and implied/referenced drug addiction and detox

Summary: Abbot and Robby on the first night of Langdon's detox hospitalization. Robby's a mess, Jack wants to help, and Things Are Said.

*****

“I let this happen.”

Robby and Abbot stand in a cold, sterile hospital room at Presby. It’s the finest addiction center in town, Gloria had told Robby with a glint of malice in her eyes. After all, this did nothing for PTMC’s reputation, having a junkie doctor who was siphoning off medications to feed his addiction. Not to mention an attending who had no clue it was happening.

“You didn’t put the pills in his hands,” Abbot says, in that gentle voice he uses with stressed-out patients. He’s trying to talk Robby out of his guilt trip: a futile endeavor if ever there was one.

They stand shoulder-to-shoulder, both watching Langdon in his narrow bed, but they don’t see the same thing.

Abbot is watching monitors, gauging the time between tremors, studying the skin to determine if there’s too much sweat, or not enough. He’ll categorize the findings without prejudice or sentiment. This is a case, plain and simple.

Robby sees something different. He’s looking at Langdon’s face, slack with artificial sleep even as his body shudders and convulses against the soft restraints. He sees his student, his protegé, his friend. He’s in pain, in unimaginable pain, and Robby’s heart protests what his brain knows is the Right Thing To Do.

“The first 72 hours are the most critical for detox, and he’s just on the first day,” Abbot instructs. “This is normal for Day One.” Robby should be annoyed because he doesn’t need to be told that, for fuck’s sake. But he’s too busy winding back the film of the last few months, looking for clues, looking for ways he can place the blame on himself.

“How did I not see this?” Robby’s plaintive question is interrupted by the monitor blaring; Langdon’s thrashing has loosened the pulse ox sensor from his finger. Robby replaces it, hanging onto the trembling hand until it stills. He points to the gold wedding band. “It’s loose, it could just about fly off. He’s lost so much weight; how did I miss it?”

“He’s always been a skinny guy.” Abbot’s cool gaze appraises Robby as much as Langdon. “Isn’t he a runner?”

“Not for a while, not since he hurt his back.” Robby steps back from the bed, one hand going to his own lower back in sympathy or its own pain. He’s not sure. “I made FUN of him, called him an ‘old fart.’ But I didn’t examine him, I just sent him to Hagen.”

Doctor Hagen is now on probation for “loose prescribing practices.” He hadn’t examined Langdon, either, just handed him a script for medications known to be addictive. With refills. Gloria’s blood pressure must have gone through the roof over that one.

It turns out that Presby did examine Langdon’s back, finding that he didn’t have a muscle strain but rather a herniated disk. He should never have been back on his feet the day after the injury, lifting patients and bending over them for treatment. He should have had time to recover. Instead, the constant demands of the job left him in worse shape than anyone could have imagined.

“He covered it well,” Abbot remarks. “Hell, no one saw it but that smartass intern. She might have had questionable motives, but she’s more observant than the rest of us put together.”

“Ten points for Santos.”

“Plus ten more for that REBOA. Don’t ask,” Abbot adds when Robby’s eyebrows approach his hairline.

Robby makes a mental note to ask.

Abbot speaks again, still in that annoyingly patient tone. “Is it possible that part of your anger at him is actually deflected guilt?”

Not only possible, but probable. Robby swallows noisily, the lump in his throat feeling like a jagged boulder. His eyes sting. “None of this would have happened if he’d just told me he needed help. Somewhere in the last few months, I must’ve made him feel like he couldn’t.”

Abbot just waits, letting Robby work this out in his head.

“I made him Chief Resident. Was that too much for him to handle?”

“You didn’t have much of a choice, considering that your other R4 was your ex-lover.”

Robby’s laugh has no mirth in it. “Could’ve been even more complicated,” he says, shaking his head. Heather’s words are still so fresh in his mind, one more burden, a heavy straw on his back.

Also fresh in his mind is the look of shocked delight he’d seen on Langdon’s face when he mentioned the letter of recommendation he’d written. “I recommended him for the education fellowship.”

“Good choice. Most talented young ED doctor I’ve seen here in a long time, he’ll be tremendous.”

“Are you kidding? I have to rescind it.”

Abbot looks at him as if he’s stupid. “C’mon, no, you don’t.”

“He’s an addict, Jack. And he’s committed a felony.”

“He’ll control the addiction; he’s a strong kid and I know he’ll probably be an even better doctor for beating it.” He breathes in a couple of times. Robby can tell he’s steadying himself. “As for the felony, didn’t we both commit one just yesterday?”

The girl, Christy, had been so desperate for a medication abortion. Both Abbot and Robby had deliberately miscalculated the gestation. Both of their names were on the falsified document.

“Shit.”

“Yep.” A beat passes, as quickly as one squeeze of the heart. “So, let he who is without sin...”

“Not my book,” Robby reminds him.

Abbot chuckles. His gaze returns to the monitors. “His numbers are settling down a bit.”

Robby only glances at the monitors before he looks back at Langdon’s body, stilling a little after hours of agonized flailing. “I wish it had gone differently,” he whispers as he places his hand on Langdon’s forehead. Hot and damp, fever or pain or both. “His next few months are going to be shit, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“You can be here. Let him know that he won’t have to be alone. He fucking idolizes you, you know that, right?”

“No, no, no. Not anymore.” Robby shakes his head. “He hates me now. He thinks I’m weak because of how I behaved after Leah died.”

“Addicts gonna addict. Deflection when caught? Classic response.” Abbot turns the full force of his attention on Robby. “You nurtured him from the day he got there. You’ve turned that wise-ass intern into an amazing emergency doctor. I was watching him last night—it’s extraordinary, what he did. Yeah, he wasn’t supposed to be there, but thank God he was because he saved at least a dozen lives. He’s got terrific depth of knowledge and he’s quick to apply it. Langdon’s soaring on the wings that YOU gave him.”

“Yeah, like Icarus.” Robby’s aching heart starts beating faster. “And look how far he’s fallen.” He feels the tears forming in his eyes and tries to hold them back, knowing that once he starts he won’t be able to stop.

“But this story’s going to end differently,” Abbot tells him, standing even closer so that he can put a steadying hand on Robby’s back. “You’re gonna save him.”

“It’s too late for that. God, the things we said to each other, the way I did everything wrong. If I’d just been able to think clearly...if I’d offered help instead of losing my temper...if it hadn’t been...”

He’s gone, finally able to release the soul-shattering pain he’s been carrying alone. Robby feels Abbot’s arms around him, the capable hands patting his back as he sobs. “I’m doing it again. Breaking down. He called me out on it, I told you about that. I was a fucking mess in Pedes while he was...saving people...I mean, which of us was really in the wrong in that situation?”

“Stop it. You were both right, and you were both wrong. That doesn’t matter now.”

Robby takes a step back, Abbot’s hand still at his waist, and swipes at his face with the heels of his hands. “Honestly? I have no idea what to do.”

Abbot considers this, still hanging on to Robby, then sighs. “You’ve already told Gloria and gotten Langdon settled in the hospital. Tell me about the rest of the problems. I’ll get them sorted out for you. What about the pills?” Robby pats his pocket. “Right. Give ‘em to me.”

“What are you going to—”

“Not your problem. It’s mine, now. What else?”

“Jake...shit, he adores Langdon, and he’s still so pissed at me...”

“I’ll get Dana to talk to him.”

“Dana quit.”

Abbot raises an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that. What else?”

Robby’s heart lurches when he thinks about Heather, but that’s not his story to tell. “We’ve got to tell the staff something.”

“That’s simple. Langdon has an old injury that’s flared up and he’ll be out on leave for the foreseeable. The old guard will staunch the rumor flood. We’ll hold a carrot out for that intern so she’ll be satisfied with him having to do rehab and repeat a year instead of being thrown to the wolves. Ellis liked her; maybe she can be an official mentor. Lots of ‘fun’ cases on the night shift to keep her happy.”

Weighing Santos’ moral compass against her ambition comes out even in Robby’s mind, but if anyone can calm her down it’ll be Ellis and Abbot. He’ll hate to lose her on the day shift but her constant sniping at the younger students is driving him up a tree.

A cartoon tree? Should he start sliding down the wall now, or wait until he has blood all over him?

He takes a few calming breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. They’re bullshit.

“Anything else I can do?”

Robby thanks the God he doesn’t quite believe in for a friend like Jack Abbot. He fishes in his pocket for his keys. “I need some clothes, a phone charger, and stuff to read.” He also hands Abbot the telltale baggie with its damning evidence clear for the world to see. Or not. Abbot takes it and stuffs it carelessly in his backpack.

“You’re gonna stay, then.”

“I’ve got the next four days off. Yeah. I don’t want him to think I abandoned him. Well, any more than he already does.” He tilts his head as he looks at Langdon again. “His wife took the kids and the dog and went to her parents’ place outside Chicago.”

“Shit. That’s rough.” His gaze softens this time when he turns his attention to Langdon again. “I don’t know the wife. Think she’ll calm down?”

“I fucking hope so.”

“Hmm.” Abbot shifts his weight—Robby winces at the thought of how much his wounded leg must be hurting by now—and presses Robby into the bedside chair. Robby goes without protest, melting, exhausted.

Mourning.

He’s lost three forms of fatherhood in one night: that’s got to be a record. His relationship with Jake is shattered. Langdon will never be the same, his career hanging by a thread. And there’s the secret sorrow as he thinks of the child who was never born.

Abbot’s hands are firm and strong on Robby’s shoulders. “The thing about Daedalus is that he warned Icarus of something besides going too close to the sun. He also needed to stay away from the water so his wings wouldn’t bog down and drag him into the sea. Some think the boy was doomed either way: the sun would burn him or the waves would drown him.”

Robby nods. He has Langdon’s left hand in both of his. Tears splash over the places where they’re joined.

“You’re a better father than Daedalus. You didn’t just warn him. You’re saving him. You’re putting yourself between him and harm’s way. Has it been the smoothest method, the kindest one? No, but you have to forgive yourself for that. What you’ve been through in a single day, brother, it’s just too much to expect you to be your usual charming self.”

That elicits an undignified snort.

There’s a little stirring in the bed, a flexing of fingers that had been completely limp. Robby leans over in time to see Langdon’s eyes slowly open. He’s never seen them so dark, irises nearly covered by the pupils, confusion and fear in the fluttering of dampened lashes.

“That’s it, you’re okay,” Robby soothes.

Langdon doesn’t speak—probably can’t, between the pain and the sedatives—but his fingers tighten around Robby’s once, twice, a third time.

“Yeah, I’m not going anywhere. You can go back to sleep now. I won’t leave. I’ve got you, Frank. I’ve got you, I promise.”

Langdon keeps his face turned toward Robby even as his heavy eyelids close again, his hand relaxing. It’s a more natural sleep now, one that will help begin the healing. Relieved, Robby settles in the chair to prepare for the night’s vigil. Abbot leans over him, smiles, and whispers softly, like a caressing breeze that lifts a bird’s wings.

“Icarus lives.”

[hightowerqueen]

Thursday Bangers

thank you for the tag @serensama <3 i'll tag @no1lucanispegger, @rookamell and @corvus-frugilegus if you guys want to play!

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

This week's prompt: I'm prepared to sacrifice my life I would gladly do it twice - Mercy by Shawn Mendes

i fear i may have stumbled my way into ANOTHER parallel universe for the De Rivas. Rafe belongs to @nonagesimus (hi bb, i love you) and i am extremely not normal about him or him and Bea or either of them and Illario so. here you go.

referenced m!rook/illario, rook/rook

"Just go. They'll need someone to string up over this, but it doesn't have to be you." Bea's jaw drops. There's no fucking way Rafe is saying what she thinks he's saying. "What do you mean, go? I'm the one who dragged you into this in the first place!" "Yes, Bea. But do you want to make me watch them kill you, too? Haven't you done enough?" He's mad, and of course he is, but it hurts all the same, proverbial knife slid between her ribs as easily as if it were real, sinking through the flesh like butter.

The wound stings, because this is her fault. She's the one who'd gone and played hero, dragging him behind her, only to find out they'd somehow blown a Crow operation's cover sky high.

Rafe sighs, anger replaced by something defeated in his expression. "Viago is going to come knocking soon. He won't argue if I tell him I was working alone. He'd rather that than the truth."

He's right, again. He's looking at her with those maker-forsaken beautiful eyes of his, and she hates the way it makes tears pool in hers. Hates everything about this, hates how she's fucked everything up again.

This time it can't be fixed, she's pretty sure.

"You need to go, Bea," he continues, more insistant, "He can't find you here. Let him believe the lie, please."

There'd always been a line between them, before, an electrified fence they both stayed a respectable distance away from. But that seems stupid now, because they might very well never see each other again. The thought makes her feel ill.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, she finally crosses that line. Grabs him by the cuirass, yanks him in close enough to crush him in the circle of her arms.

"I'm getting Illario. There's gotta be some strings he can pull, especially for you," she whispers into his ear.

And then she's chasing his mouth with hers, the kiss a desperate, pleading thing she hopes speaks years of ignored feelings into his mouth.

She thinks it works, because Rafe goes slack in her arms, tension bleeding out of him and kissing her back like he's clinging to her just as hard.

They should've done this earlier. So much wasted time, and now it's over before it ever really had a chance.

She can still taste him on her tongue when she leaves.

-

In the end, Illario's connections aren't necessary. Viago negotiates for Rafe to be sent on a contract with Varric Tethras, something absurd about gods the only thing Bea catches. It's not death, but it also is, a mission with a scope that's almost designed to kill him off away from her eyes. Mercy, and not. Guilt claws its' way up her throat and she retreats to the rooftops, settling there and hugging her knees to her chest.

That's where Illario finds her, and they share a bottle of red to mourn the departure of the man they both love in silence.

She wonders, briefly, what ghost is hitching a ride with Illario for him to be so understanding of the weight she's going to carry from now on.

[lonesilverw0lf]

Brighthammer is fine, not like I’m going crazy making this up. At least we admit that our heretical crack is all in good fun, unlike those damned Tourists that demand everything changed in the name of some DEI dogma in spite of sense. I loathe these MoDeRn AuDiEnCeS.

We can still have some Great Heresy equivalent in this, just not sure what. That’s one issue I’m running into with my RWBY/40K story. Chaos can still be a problem, as it always will be, perhaps alongside some other issues like the Enslavers and whatnot. Erebus did something to take half the legions to the Warp to give Chaos new toys without getting the big prize? Perhaps some outer galactic influence akin to the Nids can try to make purchase here. A Grimm opening? Something from the Deep Warp that even the Four fear reached up and caused some problems? A force from the future that decided to make problems in the present? Or it can be something specific for each general region of the galaxy, or something mostly whispered about but not fully known. Since this story could be told from Jaune’s perspective, perhaps he’s not aware of all the details so is just doing his best.

Big E? No, Big EEs! The biggest Dommy Mommy of them all! Stop glaring Malc! Perhaps she’s not quite a corpse queen but still mostly bound to Terra, limiting her influence. She can leave only for short spans of time, nowhere near enough to do anything useful for the controlling micromanagement ass she is. Gives everyone else the freedom for all the shenanigans we want. Not that EE would bother telling anyone why she’s confined to Terra, her secrets have secrets after all.

Small extra thought, Kitten from TTS also gets the bent treatment and is sent to be Jaune’s bodyguard of a sort. Or Kitten came from an alternate future where her orders from EEs was to help train Jaune to become a hero to help keep the galaxy spinning. Give EEs another headache since Kitten told her something to prove she’s not lying, but EE can’t see into the future to better control the situation and Kitten was ordered by the future EE to not obey current EE because reasons. Congratulations EE, you played yourself.

We can have the Primamas be themselves and have the RWBY girls alongside them. It’s not like there’s a shortage of space and roles in 40K, everyone can have a part to play somewhere. Rouge Traders, guardsmen, some advanced colonies with their own lesser version of Astartes, Squats, Nobles, Psykers, Assassinorum, Sisters, Commisar, local heroes, living saints, Eldar, other xenos, abhumans, X-Men, lots of options. It’d be a shame to just throw away those pictures and gf memes for the Primamas.

Jaune is the tallest and most capable of the RWBY protagonists, so the image that he’s the little guy doing that couch meme with these demigodsess is hilarious. The idea is Jaune has a normal yet potent human spirit which is what draws them, since it is the human spirit that has kept the Imperium going for so long. A super soldier doing the incredible is one thing, a normal man standing up to the impossible is more impressive. Perhaps a shard of the Emperor himself that also helps things along. It’s not perfect, he doesn’t know it’s there, he can’t control it, but its effects can be felt. Jaune is still the one who’s doing these deeds, spitting in the face of demons with a mere sword while his legs are shaking, but the Shard is there to help give him a bit of that Plot Armor. What’s 40K without Plot Armor? Which this shard talk reminded me of another fanfic of the same name but in Zootopia, potential idea there? Hmmmm, I’ll think on it. Of course he can have some imposter syndrome a la Cain, but with a tender heart and some of that implacable will of other heroes. He calls himself a coward yet is a total unit like Stark from Frieren. I thought about giving him some minor immortality, Vulkans hugs can kill a guy pretty easy. And that’s just friendly hugs, not to mention what goes on behind closed doors. I know there’s a story called Family Visits where Jaune is the son of Bobby G and the Primarchs have a buncha daughters, inspired from a different picture. Dunno if we can use the daughters in this though…

Eh well, like I said all in good fun here. Even if Fatally doesn’t wanna do this, this is still a fun au to think about.

I know you’re busy as hell, loving the Conquers au, so had a question before I open a new au idea for ya: how much do you know about Warhammer 40k?

Only a video or two honestly

[moghedien]

How Galinda gets ready for bed knowing she's gonna homoerotically argue with Elphaba all night once again

[cloudcountry]

Ok it says requests closed but I was gonna ask: what about Ritsu is so compelling to you? I find him rather bland and want to hear what about him makes you feel safe and loved? Why is he your favorite? INFODUMP me write all your interest I am listening with excitement :3

oh youre so good, this doesnt count as a request at all!! i actually needed a few days to gather my thoughts and make this semi-coherent. i also consulted my six pages of notes about this guy. yes im normal about him. yes.

RITSU SHINJO. there are a lot of things to love methinks. he can definitely come across as someone who is rude or stuck up, and dont get me wrong i totally did NOT fuck w his ass when i first met him. but he changed my mind really quickly.

i really appreciate how he stands up for what he believes in. like his ambitious nature is what really endeared me to him at first. he stares down barrels of guns and is like "okay, but youre going to listen to what i have to say" and honestly??? i was in awe. hes such a brave person and even if it may seem a lil stupid or outrageous sometimes it always works out in the end somehow.

hes also really smart??? like OBVI but like hold on. there are 264 ARTICLES in the japanese penal code. TWO HUNDRED SIXTY FOUR. and he STILL knows more laws on TOP of that. has them MEMORIZED no less!! hes well versed in the arts and his vocabulary is extensive as well. he can speak MULTIPLE LANGUAGES, including german, french, and italian. literally WHAT THE FUCK. hes so impressive??? this is some rich people shit T0T

his lil quirks are super cute too, like how he only drinks black coffee and has six handkerchiefs so his opponents dont see him sweat, or how he spends time watching opera to unwind after the day's events. his handwriting isnt the neatest and he gets SO butthurt about it. hes so unflappable usually but when insulted? its like we get to see the actual ritsu. its silly bc if you compliment him on his SKILLS hes like "oh its natural, ofc i did xyz" but i want to see how he reacts to being told he looks good. or someone noticing if he did something different w his hair, or wore different accessories, or got a new pen. just . someone noticing the little things about HIM, too.

HE FUCKIN SUCKS AT GAMBLING I LOVE HIMMMM also memorized card game rules after learning he'd be sorted into sinostra. he has so much book smartness but when you put him in front of people he fumbles HARD. like its so cute but also i worry about that bc he needs friends and i want him to make friends but i fear he doesnt think he needs them. what he lacks socially he makes up for in random ass trivia that no one needs to know ever.

hes so PREPARED. this is one of the main things that makes me feel so safe around him actually because hes thought of everything. and yk he doesnt even think its that big of a deal. he exchanges the currency so sinostra can have an inn to stay in for the night, he records everything for jabberwock to make sure he understands exactly what he needs to do for the animals, he covers all of his bases and takes notes about everyones behavior just in case in comes in handy.

uses his stigma for fuckass shit like busting down doors and not getting hurt by a rickety bus ride. uses his book to whack people over the head. regularly goes to the mystery diner and ignores ren's complaints about how he sits his ass down foreverrrr. romeo calls him a greenhorn and he blabs about how he obviously isn't. taiga calls him a dumbass and he starts screeching like a baby bird. hes always trying to reign in taiga while also encouraging his bullshit. has obvious favoritism for mc. protects her whenever he can and worries over her safety when she almost fuckin DIES. acknowledges that shes weaker than him, because hes a ghoul and thats just how it is, and actively takes steps to NOT ONLY PROTECT HER HIMSELF, but build up her confidence TOO.

literally i am convinced the way ritsu sees love is making the people you love the absolute best version of themselves, because thats what his parents did for him. so he tries to teach you what he knows, he RELIES on you to keep tabs on romeo or taiga (that is HUGE actually, considering he berates ren for his attitude and doesnt really seem to be close enoough with the other ghouls to rely on them for anything.)

let me say that again, ritsu views mc as an equal because hes placing the captain/vice captain in her hands and telling her to keep an eye on them, he calls HER when he's trying to meet up with everyone, he's actively treating her like a business partner where they will BOTH BENEFIT in more ways than just the curse lifting and winning the laurel crown--

ARGHHHH I LVOE RITSU SHINJO SO MUCH. you are a trooper if u read all of this can i just say .

THANK YOU FOR ASKING I LOVEEEE TALKING ABOUT HIM <3333

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

i liked it better when you were whiningabout that kid from school

[heartorbit]

just how can i protect your smile?

[binglepringle]

Idek what this is but here you go 🤲

[fossilizedhysterics]

guess who finished tlok tonight and immediately had this come to him in a vision!!!!