#since it was the option that felt the most natural to pick

[dalekinapaintedparadise]

Stumbled upon a Reddit thread (don't ask) where people still whine and bitch about having to pick the "Nah, fucked that up too," dialogue option at the Oil fields to have a good relationship with Johnny. Saying that it needs to get fixed, calling it 'antagonizing' him, further proving that they don't understand him or his friendship with V at all. Sorry, but what's still not clicking? Holding him accountable for what he did and being honest with him is the only way you can have a good relationship with him for a reason.

It's not scolding him, it's not being mean, it's just V telling him 'No, what you did hurt me and I can't trust you anymore.' And he needs that, he needs someone who won't let him get away with the shit he does, he needs someone who is honest with him and won't just agree with everything he says so that he can grow and change. He knows he royally messed up, but he needs to hear that from V too. How do you expect V to have a true friendship with him if they just let him walk all over them and act like he did nothing wrong and everything's fine?

And it makes sense that the devs chose this as the secret ending unlocker because you can't have them storm Arasaka Tower together in full synergy when some parts of them are still at odds with each other.

Listen, I love Johnny as much as we all do here, but he needs to be called out when he messes up, and that's that.

[indecisivemuch]

hii first of all luv the username cause as a libra rising, samedt ;-; i'd like to make a request for a luke x f!reader fic pls!! um, so they're best friends, and luke decides to confess to r by giving her gifts, letters, trinkets, etc. with hints about his identity, but she doesn't know who they're from. so she asks for luke's help to find out about the identity of her secret admirer. but what if there's like a mistaken identity and she thinks it's someone from the hermes cabin (maybe chris? or one of the stoll brothers idk) and luke's just all pouty but nonchalant or something, but deep down he's like 'how do i even make her see' or something (while also second guessing that maybe he shouldn't confess it's him) like fluff with tiny angst :>

Message in a Bottle

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You got a secret admirer and recruited Luke to help you find out who they are...ignoring the most obvious option (Fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, happy ending)

Note: I'm so sorry for the six month hiatus. It wasn't by choice, I swear 😭. So many bad things kept happening that prevented me from writing (is this the writers curse people kept talking about?). Also, the request wanted only a sprinkle of angst, but I kinda got out of hand with it I think 😭 (sorry).

Word count: 4.4k (whoops)

You’ve always thought that too much of something is bad. Yet, ever since the day your life intertwined with Luke Castellan’s, you weren’t very sure about that anymore. 

The two of you arrived at camp around the same time, entering a friendship that felt like hitting the jackpot. Your early days together were something that you both treasured dearly. Every time you thought a certain time period would someday be reminisced as the golden days of your friendships, new things would come, and top it off. 

However, golden skies were soon evaded by clouds of pink hues. You found yourself noticing and appreciating small details you haven’t noticed before about your best friend. Initially, you acknowledged the growing feeling but decided that they better remain as footnotes in chapters of your life. However, fate’s design was different to your plans, because two years later, here you were: you looked at him almost in the same way a fool would look at the world with rose-colored glasses (but then again, maybe it was because you have learned to embrace and adore his flaws).

“Luke!”

The Hermes cabin counselor snapped his head towards the sound of your voice, eyes straying from his duty of the hour. A smile began forming on his face as you came to view, almost like he has always been programmed to do so. There was a certain spring in your steps. Moments like these made Luke feel like he was a minimalist because your happiness was somehow enough to guarantee his own. 

You situated yourself next to Luke on the ground, not minding the dirt.

“Hey now, I’m meant to be watching these kids train, don’t come over and distract me,” the Hermes cabin counselor warned, though he didn’t move his eyes away from you. He simply couldn’t.

Everything about you served as a distraction to him. From the soft smirk gracing your lips to the innocent tilting of your head. Every little detail about you was captivating and was equally capable of drawing his attention away from wherever it was meant to be. 

In fact, his attention issue around you was getting rather shameless because his friends have begun picking up on it and started teasing him for it. Personally, Luke doesn’t think it was his fault. His eyes just happen to draw to you in every room like second nature, while his mind short-circuited every time you were near. 

Maybe, and just maybe being rational and able to function properly has stopped being his forte…at least whenever you were around.

Your eyes moved to the group of kids that were only going to be at camp for the summer. From the looks of it, Luke has just assigned them to practice sword fighting in pairs. You then glanced back at your best friend, discreetly drinking in the sight of him. 

No doubt he did his fair share of demonstration before letting these kids go off on their own, because right now, his face was slightly flushed, veins evident on his forearm while the familiar orange shirt clung onto his body with glistening sweat.

You shook away the non-platonic thoughts and teased him, “Oh, come on, you wouldn’t pass up on talking to me. You adore me too much.” 

Damn right, he does. Luke could feel his cheeks heat up again.

“Fine. What are you here for, firecracker?”

“I got another gift,” you informed, presenting the bracelet in your hand. 

For the past month, you have been receiving small letters and gifts. This time it was a handmade bracelet with beads of your favorite colors, as well as charms that represented some of your hobbies and favorite things. It was clear that your anonymous admirer had put a lot of thought into such a small item. However, as always, there were no identities attached to it, leaving you clueless about the person behind these gestures.

Luke took your hand in his, eying the accessory that perfectly fitted your wrist. He started toying with the beads around your wrist that were shining in your favorite color.

The boy’s gaze flicked from the object to you, catching your soft and warm look. Gods, if you kept looking at him like that, he might just actually stop thinking logically. He could practically feel a confession lingering behind his lips, threatening to spew the second his ropes of restraint died.

“Anyway, I came here with an idea,” you broke the silence. “What if I try to find out who this person is? I mean, some of these gifts are quite specific. They seem to know my favorite color, flowers, and things I like. Surely, it wouldn’t be that hard to narrow it down and figure it out?”

Something shifted in your best friend’s behavior and you could feel it. There was a slight flustering look on Luke’s face as he avoided eye contact with you. It was rather strange to see the Hermes cabin counselor so fidgety. Luke has always been confident and composed, and you’d often be the one to humble down his playful cocky remarks. Half-way through looking at his behavior, you began speaking:

“You…”

Luke could feel the blood draining from his face at your facial expression, his face paling despite how flushed he was seconds ago from demonstrating sword fighting. The boy tried to regain his composure, though his attempt at seeming nonchalant failed as you touched his arm. Did you—

“You can be my inside man, talk to these guys to see if they’d slip up or something like that.” 

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Luke hastily replied, clearing his throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did that come across as a suggestion? I hate to break it to you but being best friends means you sorta have to participate in my schemes,” your lips curled as Luke grunted at your words. 

“Yeah, but—”

“Luke, please…it’ll be fun,” he almost scoffed at your words and unconvincing argument. Clearly, the two of you had different definitions of fun. Just as he opened his mouth to reject your idea again, his eyes caught yours. You were looking at him in such an eager and heart-warming gaze that it made him forget what he was intending to say.

Ah, there was no denying anymore. Being rational and able to function properly has truly stopped being his forte.

“Fine,” Luke uttered, the word pricking his tongue as regret started kicking in as he accepted being your accomplice. This decision could only come back to bite him in the ass. He watched as you quickly celebrated his lack of restraint.

“Ah, you gave in quite quickly,” you jabbed.

“Shut up.”

Oh, you were going to be the death of him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days have passed since you got Luke to agree to help you find your secret admirer. Though, the boy must say, the last forty eight hours have been slightly comedic for him, watching you trying to track down your secret admirer…

While the real sender of those gifts was right beside you, nodding along to your every word. 

Luke’s mind trailed to the origin of this “secret admirer” idea. He started it as a way to abate the urge of straight-up blurting out how love-struck he was with his own best friend, while also testing out the waters before finally confessing his feelings for you. 

Though it was slightly amusing how the idea led him to where he was right at that moment. The Hermes cabin counselor zoned out as he pretended to speak to another boy you thought was behind those sweet gifts and letters. 

Luke used to have those feelings under rein, but self-repression only caused it to grow exponentially. Initially, the Hermes cabin counselor dismissed those beyond friendly thoughts, thinking they would eventually fizzle away. However, against his predictions, this fondness towards you became a sort of companion to him for three long years. 

Not only that, years of excessively burying these feelings six feet underground also came back to bite him in the ass because instead of having his feelings under control, they now have the upper hand. 

Sometimes he felt like a puppet, while his feelings plucked the strings. His facial expressions were forever cursed to be sculpted in raw yearning whenever around you, having no choice over how he reacts to everything related to you.

But it didn’t matter, because he was going to finally confess soon.

Luke almost burst out laughing at the way you were standing in anticipation, waiting for his intel on the most recent candidate. It was entertaining, to say the least, pretending to engage in investigative conversation before heading back to you, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. 

However, it didn’t take long before the Hermes cabin counselor started feeling sour.

Just as he made it back to your side, he watched as you started talking again, already discussing the next guy you thought might have done these things that Luke himself came up with. He eyed your in sync footsteps with a heavy heart. Despite the matching movement, he somehow still felt eternally behind. Luke was so close, yet so far away, and never quite able to grasp onto your ever moving attention. 

Did you not consider him as an option at all? Did you truly not see him as anything other than a good friend? It started stinging him knowing you were considering all these other guys as potential candidates — the faces that now haunt him in his sleep, poisoning his mind with an acidic jealousy that was eating away his common senses and fueling immoral thoughts. 

Soon enough, that same jealousy seared his mind with this overwhelming self-doubt. Luke’s foot started feeling cold at the thought of confessing. Gods, he never thought the same security behind anonymity would now make him feel desperate to be seen by you. 

“Maybe I should give up,” you concluded, mindlessly staring ahead. Your attention elsewhere gave Clarisse and Chris an opportunity to send each other knowing looks. The two have been watching you run around in circles on a goose hunt, not knowing to look right behind at the sulking figure that was trailing after you. 

Your distracted state also meant you didn’t notice the moping human situated beside you. However, hearing your declaration of ending your chase, Luke saw a window of opportunity. Maybe now was finally the time to be truthful. After all, if he doesn’t tell you, then how will you know and see him? Luke’s momentary motivation carried him through waves of dejection.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something,” Luke blurted out without much more thought or preparation, and his tone made you fully turn to him. Just as words finally formed and the boy opened his mouth to tell you—

“Hey Y/N, can I talk to you privately?” Somebody interrupted. Your eyes didn’t leave Luke immediately, but when you saw your best friend’s momentum had faltered, you turned to the stranger. It was another Hermes boy, somebody who you’ve seen around. You politely agreed and left with him. 

“So, I heard you’ve been looking for the person who’s been giving you anonymous gifts. And well, it’s your lucky day, 'cause…” the boy stared you up and down while you subconsciously took a small step back when he leaned forward. “...I’ve decided to come forward and reveal myself.”

“Okay…well, prove it” you squinted. Though your skepticism didn’t make the Hermes boy in front of you falter. Clearly, he expected this.

“The first thing you were given was a note, and…the two most recent gifts were a cassette tape and a bracelet — which was made from beads of your favorite color and charms like…” you zoned out as the boy started listing out some of your favorite activities that were indeed the charms on your bracelet. You fiddled with the bracelet that you had purposefully hidden out of his view right behind your back.

There was a pinch in your heart that signaled the last bit of hope dying. 

Oh…so Luke really wasn’t your secret admirer.

You internally scoffed at yourself. You should have known right after he said yes to helping you out with finding your secret admirer — which was originally an idea used as bait to determine if Luke was the sender or not, because if it was really him then he wouldn’t have agreed to help you out with this. However, not only did your best friend agree without much convincing from you, but he had seemed so nonchalant and unaffected as you named all these boys you wanted him to talk to. 

Perhaps this secret admirer thing was something good. Somebody has shown interest and their actions have been nothing but sweet. Those letters contained words that were eternally bound to your memories, even altering the way you view yourself for the better. Maybe you could get to know this person and move on from hopelessly crushing on your best friend.  

Halfway through, you realize you were so engulfed in your thoughts that you have zoned out to half of the things the Hermes boy was saying, and merely caught onto the last bit of his speech:

“...thinking maybe we could go on a date and get to know each other more tonight?”

Your stomach churned again, yet you nodded your head.

Move on. Move on. Move on. Move on. 

Your friends gave you questioning looks when you got back to where they were, clearly curious about what you were pulled away for.

“So…that was my secret admirer, and I’m going on a date with him tonight,” you hoped you sounded more enthusiastic than you were feeling. You tried convincing yourself at least it was good knowing definitely how your best friend actually felt about you. Quickly sitting down, you kept your eyes on Clarisse, knowing if you even looked over at Luke, he’d be able to tell straight away that something was wrong.

Your lack of focus also meant you didn’t think much of the quiet murmur from your best friend: “Sorry, I just remember I need to do something.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. It was now the afternoon and you just finished getting ready for your date. As you were leaving, you spotted a note at the foot of your cabin. Seeing your name written on the paper, you picked it up while eying it peculiarly.

“You could be the one that I love, 

I could be the one that you dream of,

Message in a bottle is all I can do, 

Standing here hoping it gets to you.”

Your gut feeling stirred, hitting you with waves of higher certainty over suspicions you have previously had and denied.

Those lyrics were directly associated with a memory from summer two years ago. 

Luke and you were sitting by the campfire when he asked what your favorite song was. You told him the name and mentioned you hadn’t listened to it in a while because using technology devices with signals were dangerous for Demigods. The conversation slipped your mind but clearly loitered in your best friend’s mind, because two months later while on your way back to camp from your quest together, he gifted you a tape player along with a cassette of said song along with others that you liked.

You blinked away the image of you leaning on Luke’s shoulder while the two of you listened to the song together on the train back to camp.

You re-read the note again while shaking your head. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps, that Hermes boy knew the song and it was also one of his favorites. Perhaps—

Your hand started trembling around the paper. Your eyes landed on one small detail in the note: a particular handwriting choice. The rest of it matched with previous notes, but there was one singular scribbling feature you’ve never seen used before. 

Everything came crashing down and your internal eternal cycle of excuses and denial shattered.

You ran. It didn’t matter that it was raining and your attire was getting soaked. It didn’t matter at all because you were frustrated and confused. In other instances, you would have been elated at the possibility of mutual affection, but in that moment, exasperation blinded you from sensibility. 

If what you have concluded was true, then why on Earth would he allow you to go on a date with a person who stole credit for things they didn’t do? This whole time, he made you feel like a fool — for waiting that long and having hope after all that time; for asking the person you were looking for to hunt them down with you; for sulking despite having what you thought was a good opportunity to come along; for borderline going on a date with an imposter; and for not seeing it all along that it was him. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?” you called out.

Despite the rain, you could see your best friend’s figure stiffened before turning around to face you. The boy stood with his hands behind his back, not yet daring to look at you. 

“The “th”. You connected the cross in the ‘t’ directly to the ‘h’,” you presented the note in your hand, pointing specifically at the slip up that Luke had made in the latest note, not caring of the raindrops that were hitting the paper. “It’s how I write it, and you started writing it the same way a year after we got to know each other because you liked the way it looked,” you pressed further.

The expression on Luke’s face painted your theory into the truth of the situation. You felt your hand slightly shaking at the revelation.

“Why? You left anonymous gifts and notes and watched me put on this hunt — which by the way, was for you. And didn’t even say anything when a guy lied and said he was my secret admirer? Is this one big cruel prank?”

“No—”

“Oh! Well then, surely at one point in this whole thing, you felt like you should just tell me?” 

“I was going to.”

“Then where were you when I was just about to head out with that fraud? Maybe if you really liked me and really cared for me, like all those damn notes say, you would have fought for m—”

“I did,” Luke finally raised his voice, his face briefly hardened in an attempt to convey his desperation. His chest heaved, and the way it did almost made you think the anger radiating off every inch of his skin right then was directed towards you. But it wasn’t, and he knew you knew. 

“I confronted him right after he claimed that he was the one who gave you all those things.” 

Invisible ivies rooted your foot to the ground. You gulped, trying to digest the information you were given. However, it finally sunk in when Luke’s hands appeared from behind his back. It was then that you could see the bandage wrapped around his knuckles. Your breath hiccuped in both flattery and worry at the implication of what he had done. The darkness behind those deep hazel-brown orbs reflected a certain side of your best friend that you hadn’t seen before. Although, part of you felt like you wouldn’t mind it.

It made Luke’s blood boil knowing what he dedicated to you from the bottom of his heart was spoiled by ill intentions. Luke should have known better than to carelessly write all the letters and craft those gifts right on his bunk bed, rather than discreetly. 

Once again, the Hermes cabin counselor was pulled back to memories from an hour ago. The way the other boy shot remarks at Luke’s lack of precautions, boasting his wrong-doings like someone incapable of having a guilty conscience. Luke's jaw tightened as the image of the sly smirk on the other Hermes boy's face flashed in his mind, but a wave of satisfaction ran through him as he recalled how quickly that smirk was wiped away by his own fist.

They might be brothers by a fraction, but blood or not, that boy was dead to Luke the second he tried tricking you.

“And no, I wouldn’t have let you go out with a fraudster. Never,” Luke’s eyes softened. “And in case it’s not implied enough: I like you…a lot. I was going to confess but then this guy came along lying,” Luke could feel that tremor returning once more to his fist. He hated that something he built, from scratch, on the foundation of sincerity was momentarily tainted by the hands of a spineless liar. Not only that, he hated witnessing somebody so dear to him getting deceived in such a tasteless manner.

“I also…didn’t want to get hurt. It was starting to seem like you would ever consider me as more than just a friend with the way you were listing out all these other guys. So for a bit there I was considering just keeping quiet…forever” he confessed, eyes now straying away from you and down to his shoes.

You observed your best friend through a new perspective. So your initial suspicions were true. You had thought it was him because all the things you have received hinted to somebody who knew you so well, and who else at camp but Luke knew this many things about you. But ultimately, another part of you — the proclaimed “logical” side — has hyper-analyzed every split second you two have shared and deemed that Luke has not given any true signs of interest in you beyond as a friend. Thus, you dismissed the thought of Luke being your secret admirer.

You know now to trust your gut feelings more.

“Oh, Luke Castellan, you dumb ass…” you spoke softly underneath your breath, but you knew he heard you perfectly clearly from the way he slightly peered up. Your heart almost shattered at the dejected look on your best friend’s face and the thought of him burying his feelings eternally. You sure as hell would not allow that to be this timeline.

“I’ve liked you ever since the day you went out of your way and gave me that first cassette tape,” the marveled look on Luke’s face over your confession made you continue, “I guess I should have known it was you…cause gift giving has always been your love language.” It seemed like the boy was too stunned and struck frozen. However, his shell-shock state didn’t last long, because soon, your best friend’s gaze reverted back to the way he has always looked at you, only slightly more intense.

Your eyes fluttered at the sight of Luke Castellan in front of you at that moment. You were finally able to see the effect you’ve always had on him. The way his lips hung slightly agape, eyes dilated in such a way you were no longer able to see their usual color anymore, chest slightly heaving despite lack of physical reasons for such a reaction. You almost wanted to hit yourself for being such a fool and not spotting these details sooner. 

“Now, Castellan…you have two options,” you stepped closer to him, leaving an appropriate amount of personal space in between. “You either kiss me or—”

Luke grabbed your wrist with his uninjured hand and pulled you in. The same hand-guided your arms around his neck while also effectively eliminating the remaining distance between you two. 

Without hesitation, he kissed you.

Likewise, you returned the action without a second thought. You frankly didn’t care about the rain that was soaking the both of you. Kissing Luke felt like such a natural act that it felt simply like diving home. The way he held you made you feel like you were a national treasure he was so afraid of losing. Gods, you don’t think you mind doing this ever so often.

Though, there was a certain urgency in the way Luke kissed you, as if afraid you’d either vanish or you’d change your mind. You pressed your lips harder against his, hoping he’d understand you didn’t intend on leaving or having a change of heart.

A grunt escaped his throat as you kissed him harder. Oh, Luke Castellan already knew he was in immense trouble. He knew almost immediately that the concerning number of thoughts he had about you each day would only increase tenfold from this day on. He wondered if you could taste all of his unspoken words. If kissing you felt like this, he might as well sign away his heart, body, and mind to you. In fact, he’d sign anything you put in front of him without even considering the fine prints. 

Luke slowly backed you against a tree, giving you a bit of support to lean against whilst shielding the both of you from the heavy rain. He smiled into the kiss as you hummed at his action, feeling it echo against his lips. His heart tugged, almost leaping out of his chest when your hands made their way to both sides of his face, cupping it intently like holding something yours. Yours. Fuck, he loved the sound of that. 

You were the first to break the kiss. The both of you gasped for air while maintaining eye contact. The close-up view of his intense gaze drove your cheeks rosy. You could not help but admire the way his locks of wet curly hair clung onto his forehead, while raindrops fell from his face, some following the length of his eyelashes before falling — Oh, the way he glanced down at your lips at that second made you feel almost like you had the power to convince him into anything at the moment. 

“You’re my best friend…” he broke the silence.

“Mhm.”

“...but what if I want you to be more than that?”

“I can be both,” Luke’s lips broke out into a smile, and you mirrored his facial expression. He leaned his forehead against yours whilst softly rubbing his thumb soothingly against your waist.

“I’m not against that.” 

As a larger grin broke out on your lips, Luke’s eyes further softened. He realized right there and then that anything you wanted, he would not be against it. A breath of relief quietly escaped beneath Luke’s breath. He could not wait for whatever was in store for the both of you in the future.

Good thing his messages in a bottle did get to you.

-------------------------

masterlist

join my Luke Castellan taglist (or to remove yourself from)

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ HEADCANON 2 ]

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[ SLIGHT NSFW ] + [ MDNI ]

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Alastor bites. Really bites. It’s to the point he draws blood then proceeds to lap it up just to feel you shiver. Of course you cry out in pain and tear up when he does this but the immediate urge to touch yourself also rises. The pain he inflicts stirs a heat in your core like no other which puts you on edge and fogs your head up with need. He’ll let you squirm against him, knowing you’re struggling between whining for more and making a run for it, but with his grip on your smaller body running from him is never an option.

Alastor tends to make you show off the love bites he’s left on your skin, going so far as to by dainty jewelry for you to wear that’ll draw other sinner’s attention while elegantly accentuating the healing wounds. He gets a shameless sense of pride seeing others marvel at what he’s done to you, every mark deterring demons from looking your way again, and adding to his territorial claim on your soul.

Alastor very rarely lets you mark him back, only allowing it when he’s feeling especially stressed, or is in great need of touch. More often than not you scatter little love bites across his chest or lower neck because he won’t allow you to venture anywhere else and couldn’t possibly let the rest of hell know he’s gifting a sweet thing like you a taste of his skin. He’s got an image to uphold and you don’t mind as long as you get slim opportunities to claim the radio demon as yours in private.

Alastor is no match for the sight of your little fangs. When you smile they’re shown off perfectly, biting your lip makes the small canines peek out, and worst of all is when you smile while licking them -right after killing too. Blood smeared on your plush lips and the tip of your tongue perfectly poised to lick it up….the view touches just the right nerve for the deer demon. He doesn’t know exactly what’s so attractive about seeing your delicate fangs on display but he finds himself thinking about it nonstop.

Alastor enjoys putting a genuine smile on your face. Whether that’s by killing, cooking, or performing any other acts of service for you. Doesn’t matter to him as long as you feel well cared for. He may own your soul and uses that to his advantage st times but to some degree you’re a companion and not just a servant to him. His most “prized possession” is how he’d describe you. He strives to make this obvious to you by never collaring or intimidating you with the threat of being dragged around with green chains if he’s irritated with something you’ve done or said. Instead, you’re given a ring/necklace that occasionally burns your skin as a warning from the radio demon if you are testing his patience or crossing a line he’s clearly drawn for you to follow. Husk is a bit jealous you get preferential treatment from the overload but what he doesn’t know is that your servitude to Alastor wasn’t entirely forced but rather agreed upon by you both.

Alastor’s ears are extremely sensitive. More often than not you can gauge his actual mood or reaction to things by the position of them. It’s a cute natural habit he doesn’t realize is so obvious but since you’re at his side a lot you pick up on the sign quickly. His smile is always present, shifting from menacing to genuine every so often, but the twitch of his ears says more than any expression he makes. The first time he let you touch them his entire body shuddered, visibly relaxing into your curled up form as the two of you laid in his bed, and for the first time he felt no urge to be restless in it.

Alastor doesn’t sleep but will lay with you if asked. Granted, he does secretly count the seconds until you tangle your body with his, reaching your soft hands up to gently pet his ears while humming some random tune you’d heard him sing earlier, but if you ask if he enjoys cuddling he’ll evade the question. “Rest, darling. Don’t concern yourself with me…”he hums into the crook of you neck before kissing your exposed skin. Yet, his ears lay flat as you gently scratch them, fluttering about when you giggle tiredly before whispering back “m’kay…”

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I wouldn’t call these cute headcanons but I wouldn’t say they’re wholesome either… ❤️

[ BOMUS CONTENT + ]

I mean it’s only a century or so…older is always better too ❤️ credit to creator…

[b38rman]

THROUGH THE MOTIONS [pt. 1] ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ Ollie Bearman

series tags - ollie bearman x afab!reader, enemies to lovers, slight angst, slight sickfic moment, eventual smut

synopsis - Between you getting an international driving permit and a rental car or having to spend time carpooling with the Ferrari Driver Academy co-driver you despised the most, you just had to choose the more difficult option. (Spoiler alert: it didn’t have anything to do with getting the permit or a rental car.)

parts - 1 | ?

rating - part 1 - teen and up readers

warnings - ollie being awkward and a little mean , a really bad flu

a/n - comments and feedback are very much appreciated! 💞

The dawn October breeze in Maranello had a certain bite to it. Still, even if you couldn’t figure out if you loved it or hated it, you knew you’d never get tired of it. 

The ever-cooling air stung your nostrils as you took a breath in. Despite the unpleasant bodily sensations, you had to stand outside, dressed in firetruck red, because Ollie told you to.

“—Or else I’m not picking you up.” The snark commanded. 

Ever since you signed with the Ferrari Driver Academy, shifting gears to work with Prema in your upcoming season, you’d put off getting a rental car and a driver’s permit like any sensible person would have done. Instead, you chose to rely on overpriced modes of transportation to get you places on time. 

Rene brought up the idea first in passing during a dinner you were having, Ollie and you comically sitting as far apart as possible. The latter kept his head down, infuriatingly emotionless at the topic. 

The arrangement was cemented though when Jock had one-too-much of you being barely on time. Ollie, who initially grinned and rolled his eyes at your predicament, fell eerily silent. However, if you two were anything besides enemies, you were people pleasers. 

You watched as the familiar black Volkswagon pulled into the front of your host family’s house. A pool of anxiety flooded your stomach, but you fought it and entered the car.

It was warm inside. It smelled like him.

You didn’t dare make eye contact with him, even though you felt his gaze on you as you set your bag down and put your seatbelt on.

“You good?” Ollie asked, and you were surprised with how soft his voice sounded. You felt your guard rising as you knew he could use any interaction against you.

“Yes.” Your tone stayed flat—neutral.

The car ride was silent and a tinge awkward, just like how every early interaction you had with Ollie was. The thing is, you got along with everyone just fine; in fact, every other FDA driver felt like family already, if only Ollie didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. 

It was in the little things—like how Ollie would be telling a story to everyone else and he’d go quiet the moment you walked in the room, or how Dino or Rafa would ask if you were coming to a hangout you weren’t invited to in the first place. It was pathetic to feel like you were left out, but honestly you couldn’t help it.

That initial awkwardness turned into slight bitterness. The passive-aggressive nature of your interactions bled into everything you did. You figured that two could play this game.

No matter how hard you resisted, you felt your body begin to slip into the early morning fatigue. The warmth, the rumble of the car beneath you, and the wear and tear of the past weeks were definitely getting to you.

You hadn’t realized you’d fallen asleep until you felt hands tugging on your jacket. 

“We’re here.” Ollie stated blankly, pulling on the handbrake and turning the engine off. 

“Right, yeah.” You rushed out of the car before the embarassment could set in.

Your routine was repetitive enough to be sickening, and you’d endure car rides to and from the factory for days on end as long as it wasn’t a race week that Ollie had to be in.

Both of you barely said anything about it though, which was surprising given that things often turned into wars of who could have the final say between the two of you. To be fair, once, you fought about which Mario Kart set up was the best for Heaven’s sake. Let’s just say it didn’t end well and the other drivers had to intervene.

Today, though, you’d come off a week of late nights at the simulator to help with the team’s data. Ollie was conveniently away, leading you to be more resourceful than efficient about getting home. It involved a lot more walking, waiting, biking or a combination of the three. 

As a result, the cold had finally decided to seep into your bones and you were down with a flu so bad you were sure you were having visions. 

You could barely sit up and eat, much less check your phone. A half-eaten, day-old bowl of soup was getting cold on your bedside table, and you honestly felt more helpless than anything.

The days were lost on you, and once Monday rolled around, who could ble you for forgetting to tell Ollie about any of this.

You tossed and turned in your bed as the sun crept through your blinds. More voices were present in the hallway, which was unusual but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything but pure exhaustion to the point of apathy. 

Due to this, your eyes or brain didn’t have time to process Ollie opening your bedroom door and stomping right in.

“I told you I wouldn’t pick you up if you weren’t outside.” His attempt to tell you off didn’t sound all that convincing. 

You just hummed in response, but the weird feeling in your stomach began to grow as he shut the door behind him. You closed your eyes, like that would do anything to stop how your body was responding. 

You weren’t sure why or if you were imagining it, but Ollie made his way to sit on the side of your bed you weren’t curled into. It felt like a flu-induced hallucination, but you could feel his warmth and his scent emanating from near you. 

Maybe you were just really sick. Maybe he smelled like mint and citrus and you wanted nothing else but to bury yourself in the smell. You were so tired. 

You felt a warm, calloused hand reluctantly lay itself on your temple, You prayed he didn’t feel your pulse racing.

“You’ve got temperature.” He muttered under his breath. 

“I’m freezing though.” You answered back, not missing a beat but with an evident lump in your throat. You finally made yourself look at him, and he looked back at you with something that looked almost like worry. 

Ollie began shedding his coat, one you’d seen him wear a dozen times to the factory. You were honestly confused about what was happening until he pulled your comforter down and began helping you into it. Afterwards, it probably looked like you were about to head to work in pajamas and a uniform far too big for you. 

His warmth and scent enveloped you to the point that you weren’t sure if you were breathing at all. You were still really cold though. 

“I’ll make you some tea.” He said, getting up and doing just that right as he did. 

You weren’t sure where this kindness was coming from, but it definitely did feel like a white flag being waved upon the wars you were having. Even if it was just for now. 

He returned not too long after, persuading you to drink the cup of ginger tea all at once. It was the first thing you consumed in a really long time.

“You’re much less scary like this.” Ollie said sheepishly as you drank the rest of the tea. 

“Yeah? What’s that supposed to mean?” You tried to add some bite into the words. Your bodily weakness wouldn’t let that happen. 

Ollie didn’t respond. Instead, he just looked at you. You wanted to curl up and hide under his gaze, all because you couldn’t figure out if it felt better or worse than being scrutinized by him. Right now, he looked at you with a wonder you weren’t sure was genuine. 

“I’m—um—done with the tea.” You stammered out, handing him the cup as a way to get both of you out of the conversational grid lock. 

He moved to set the tea cup right beside the bowl of soup on your bedside table. 

You weren’t entirely sure what happened next. All you remember was you drifting off with Ollie on his phone still by your side. 

You woke up in a cold sweat at one point, trying to get up but a warm, comfortably weight was wrapped around you. You decided to go back to sleep.

The next time you woke up, it was dark. Ollie was nowhere to be seen.

And all you had left of him was his jacket. 

[steviebbboi]

Hi! Me again 😅 I have another request for Good For It Ari ❤️ Was wondering if you could do a proposal/marriage moment between them too? Wondering if there would be any angst/push back from the town at all/or like how’s the town feeling about now later down the road? Do they still like them or not? Thanks again ❤️

Hi hi again~ thank you for sending this in <3 i love this prompt too! it definitely made me think hard about how Lumberjack!Ari would propose given that his language is comprised of well-placed, intentioned grunts lol but i hope that i did it justice.

Pairing: Lumberjack!Recluse!Ari x F!Reader (Good For It)

Word Count: 1.6k~

Summary: How would Lumberjack!Ari propose to you?

You could read the original fic here.

Disclaimer: ***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't demureeee***

Reblogs help writers reach more readers who may also enjoy our work. As you like, kindly reblog~ <3

Warnings/Triggers: explicit detailed depiction of smut in a memory, lovie dovie softness, protective and mild possessive Ari showin’ up to wreck you. this isn't beta read, and most likely will read it over again to edit but wanted to put it out for ya'll to enjoy!

The cart wheels rattled along the road pavement as you walked into the store. You could feel some of the speculative stares already as you perused the vegetable aisle. 

Looking at some of the fresh veggie options, you could feel your heart thundering heavily and could feel the heat start to envelop your body underneath your clammy palms. Instinctively, you inhaled deeply to alleviate the tension building in your shoulders when you also start to hear the whispers. 

You were staring way too long as two identical pieces of squash when you felt the relief come in, “Should I give you three a moment alone?” 

Broken out of your dissociative gaze, you scoffed out a laugh while you turned and looked up to find Ari smirking at you. His frame towered over your significantly smaller one as your narrowed eyes met his affectionate glint. “No, you brute– we have concluded our meeting, thank you very much.” You teased back at him with a mocking smile. 

Ari only chuckled and put his burly hands on both of your shoulders and squeezed lightly. You could feel the tension slightly leave your body at his touch as you put your best pick of squash in the cart. 

Ari did his best to cheer you up whenever the both of you were out together. Even in the most mundane tasks, people seemed to still enjoy torturing you with their prying stares and gossiped whispers. Even though it's been two whole years since you started dating Ari, people still seemed to carry their weighted opinions about your relationship. 

The guilt that Ari carried for what happened at the mill has dissipated throughout the years– his feelings no longer diminishing your relationship together as you both worked it out a year ago. You tried to remind yourself that other people had no say or merit in the security of your relationship together. In all honesty, their judging natures have only helped you both grow closer together, never doubting each other’s feelings for the other. 

Classically, Ari’s protective nature only grew the more that he noticed the town’s critical disposition towards you in particular. He didn’t much care about their opinions of him, but when it came to you, he felt a heightened sense of defensiveness. 

You carried a light in his world that was unfamiliar to his own–he knew the significance of your presence in his life, he felt better and just good with you in his life. He would happily follow you to the depths of any sense of darkness. He understood that your sensitive nature has taken others’ criticisms more personally, but he also knew that he would never let anything come too close, or at least, close enough to jeopardize your relationship. 

You were a softness to protect, he cherished you, and utterly adored you. Ari would do anything to preserve that with you and in your shared life together. 

Not ignorant to the glances that people were extending towards your direction, he used his commanding physique to his advantage to narrow his gaze directly at those who were brave enough to send stares in the first place. Once they noticed his directive blaze, people would flush and scurry their grocery carts away in a masked hurry. 

Satisfied, Ari turned back to you and put an arm over your shoulder casually while placing a kiss on your hairline as you looked at him curiously. “Now, what’s next?”

Surprise bloomed in your thoughts as you noticed that the further you walked into the store, people seemed to deviate their intrusive stares away from you and Ari. Either you were getting good at avoiding them, or you were missing some sudden piece of information. 

Your thoughts were curious as you glanced over at Ari from the passenger seat. The breeze from the open windows graced soft wind through his locks, he looked so effortlessly relaxed and handsome. 

Eyes still pensive, you couldn’t help the small smile that grew upon your lips. 

Ari sensed your stare as he took a glance over at you before looking back at the road. Catching the inquiring glint in your eyes, he glanced back at you, “Everything okay, baby?”

Humming out an affirmative yes, you said simply, “You’re pretty.” A full smile graced your face at his typical responding grunt. 

You didn’t forget your earlier thoughts though and continued, “And you’re sneaky.”

Ari released his own slow hum this time that you quickly mimicked. “I don’t know what happened, but something did.”

He didn’t say anything even though you made your speculative tone obvious. He only gave you a soft smile and merely took his right hand off the wheel to extend an open palm. You narrowed your eyes at him again but took his invitation and put your hand in his. Once your palm met his, he gave you a gentle tug to pull you closer to him and you tucked yourself all small underneath his arm while resting your head on his shoulder. Ari’s calloused fingers stroked your exposed skin on your arm intimately while you both sat in silence the rest of the drive home. 

You knew how Ari oriented himself to shield you from the nosy outsiders scrutinizing your relationship. While you liked to think that you could handle it all on your own, you secretly enjoyed it when Ari protected you like this. There was just something about his guardedness that made you feel worshipped and cared for– on the flip side, it was also assertive and dominating. It was definitely dangerous, but that's what made him so alluring and even more attractive in your eyes.

Something told you that Ari knew that too. Your mind suddenly flashed back to last night– the room barely lit by the moonlight shining exposed through the curtain. Your legs bent over Ari’s broad shoulders which forced your legs open wider to accommodate for his weighted stature as he held you down for his gluttonous tongue that lapped and sucked at your soaking wet pussy eagerly, over and over again until you felt the day’s stress leave your body with each mind-numbing orgasm that he gave you. 

You cleared your throat as you felt your breathing shift momentarily, your body instinctively reacting to the memory as you fidget closer to him. It was like he knew what you were thinking as he released what sounded like a knowing hum at your movement and kissed your temple tenderly.

Finally reaching your shared house, you giggled as Ari took most of the grocery bags from the back of the car and ducked his head as he entered. The rest of the evening was spent cooking dinner together, a favorite pastime that the both of you loved to do. 

It was later when you were resting on the couch, both of you stretched out leisurely. You were unwinding from the day, already in your night clothes (you in your camisole and underwear and Ari wearing only sweatpants as you bullied him into being shirtless for the remainder of the night). Your legs entangled together with your head resting on Ari’s naked chest while he held you closer on top of him. He had one long arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand stroked and played with the back of your hair lazily. A calming and grounding feeling overtook your body at the sensation. Your favorite movie was on, but with Ari’s soothing touch and his soft heartbeat thudding underneath your ear, you could feel your eyelids getting heavier. 

A frown settled on your face when you felt a sudden weight and cooling feeling on your hand that was resting on Ari’s shoulder. Your sleepy eyes glanced up towards the limb and widened. 

There, resting on your left hand on your ring finger, was a simple silver band with a round stone just glimmering at you with how it shined underneath the warm light from the living room lamp. 

Not really registering what you were looking at, you rose up from your lazed position on Ari’s chest suddenly to pull your hand closer to your face. Almost as if you couldn’t get closer to it, you inspected the jewelry on your hand as if it was magic. Your shocked eyes met Ari’s equally sleepy and rested gaze as he took in your reaction humoredly. 

“Ari…what–,” you started with awe in your voice. Ari took your left hand away from your stunned face to bring it to his soft lips. Your breath hitched as he kissed the ring on your finger solidly.

“From the first day that I met you, I knew that I wanted you. To this day, even though I already have you, I still want you. But, I also need you.” Your eyes glittered with tears at listening to his affection-coated words. He would never really admit it, but his blue eyes also glittered with his own. 

“I love you. And, I think that you may need me too,” his deep-toned voice was rasp with desire as he continued, “if you’ll have me.” He placed another sincerely soft kiss on your ring finger and continued placing kisses up all over the inside of your wrist. 

His other hand wiped at the tear that fell and you grabbed his large hand before he could pull it away. There were so many things that you wanted to say but your voice locked in your throat. You took his large hand in your own to kiss his own ring finger softly with a whispered “yes.”

Ari’s mouth opened with his own gasp at the feeling of your plush lips on his skin. Hearing your tender response, Ari allowed his own gentle smile to grace his content faced expression as he pulled you down to clutch you desperately close to him. Pressing soft kisses on each other’s exposed skin periodically, you held each other for some time, your newly sparkled hand intertwined with his. 

A/N: AHHHH, their softness really just kills me. And the NEED argh, i wrote it and also dyin' from the sweetness of this drabble. pls let me know your thoughts, they are so welcome. <3 hope you enjoyed!

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[xeno1queen]

Growing Strong With The Dragon - Part I

Aemond Targareyen x Tyrell!Reader Summary: A lonely princess finds herself betrothed to a cold prince. Warnings: No warnings, just a chill introduction. No character description. Afab. Authors Note: First time writing a fanfic so I’m just putting into words the things I’ve been thinking. Don't really care about "historical" inaccuracies. English is not my first language so the grammar might be a bit janked.

You have been alone most of your life, your only company being your ladies in waiting and your mother. You had a brother and a dad, but both of them seemed to have no interest in you.

You much prefer the company of books and nature in the Highgarden gardens.

You've heard the news in the capital and you're wondering which side your father will choose as the lord of Highgarden. You don't really care which side he picks, as you are not told much about the war because "Ladies should not worry their heads about unfit matters," said your father, but you do indeed worry.

A couple of days had passed since you first heard the news of the war, and the Greens were already looking for allies. They placed that task on the shoulders of their only unmarried heir. A bold choice, but no one would dare touch the prince in the presence of his dragon. The prince has already gone to Storm's End in search of a betrothed, but the exchange ended badly with the killing of Prince Lucerys Valaryon.

His second option was going to Highgarden. Your father hasn't chosen a side yet, so a marriage proposal to such an important family could help in his decision.

Within two days, the prince arrived at your doorstep. Your lavish father decided that he was to be welcomed with a feast, even though it was just meant to be a quick trip to ask for your hand in marriage. Your father spared no expense at the visit of such an important prince. He wasn't afraid to show the power of House Tyrell, owning the most fertile fields in Westeros means lots of money for your family.

During the feast, the prince was not really impressed by the food, as during the reign of his father, the banquets were not few. However, he sure was impressed by how you behaved yourself.

You’ve always been shy. During the whole banquet, you could mostly only look at your plate and, the few times you looked at him, you noticed he was already looking at you, which made you flinch and blush.

While feasting, your father and the prince talked about war and his marriage proposal, which of course your father accepted swiftly. Having his daughter marry the most powerful family in Westeros was a blessing to him, even if it came with the condition of having to send his men to die in a war they shouldn’t be participating in.

You know you were only getting married to the prince for political reasons, yet you wondered if such a beautiful man could eventually fall for you. You weren’t ugly yourself, just a bit “socially awkward,” yet he didn’t look at you with disgust. He looked at you with intrigue.

Once the banquet was finished, Prince Aemond locked eyes with you and returned to King's Landing. You felt like stone after that intense eye contact, as if his only eye had turned you into a statue.

That night, you felt all the anxiety from the feast hit you, and the anticipation of a long journey to marry the most beautiful man in Westeros made you lay sleepless all night. Would he be kind? Or would he be a cold monster who would only use you to make heirs? Those questions did not leave your mind all night. You just hoped he wouldn’t treat you badly.

[thirstydemisexual]

May I have something with Buggy being hopelessly in love with someone that both Crocodile and Mihawk are casually trying to pursue as well? I would love a typical “Two people betting with each other who can seduce someone faster, being so sure that they will sweep them off their feet- “Oh I am really flattered, but actually I’m interested in Buggy” scenario here.

Would love to see Buggy happy-ugly-crying (even uglier than usual) when he finds out because???? He WON!??? AGAINST SIR CROCODILE AND MIHAWK??? While said men are witnessing this weird spectacle from afar, for the most part being good natured about it and not holding a grudge, but also being highly confused because… Buggy? Neither of them even considered Buggy a plausible option for reader insert. Neither of them would have ever looked at each other and even speculated that their rival in this wooing contest might be the damn clown. Eh, can’t win them all. (And maybe they dodged a bullet here because if they choose the clown they must be completly out of their mind)

AHHHHH it's so giving The Grinch x Martha may and I LOVE IT! THAT DYNAMIC IS GOLD, hope you like this, I know it's not really my best work :/ been recovering from a bad fall. But I had fun writing this 🫶

HOPELESS🔪🤡|| Buggy x gn!reader

✦being in the cross guild was the most bizarre thing that happened in your life, sure living in a world where people ate devil’s fruit and gained power was bizarre enough… but working in group with Crocodile, Mihawk and Buggy of all people was so much out of your comfort zone that even the marines were surprised you were involved in the guilt. You were known to be a lone wolf like Mihawk, with no crew and no known attachment to other people, so you grouping up with somebody was a first.

✦in truth it wasn't really that you didn't like working with people, it was more tho that you had troubling understanding people intentions, you were stabbed in the back way too often for you to willingly put yourself in that position

BUT

✦ You really liked Buggy, having had a crush on him for years and you were dead set on pursuing him, what better way to spend time with him than working with him and gaining power and notoriety as well? And Mihawk and Crocodile, were not really your favorite people but you were willing to put up with them, but they were very much pushing the line with how much they abused the poor clown

✦You are considered as one of the most powerful and beautiful people of the seven seas, you were strong and reliable and very loyal it was no wonder to Buggy that Mihawk and Crocodile were dead set on pursuing you. They had been competing with each other for your attention since you all grouped up, and he couldn’t blame them. You are wonderful, and so full of charm, he fell for you long ago but his insecurities got in the way. NO ABSOLUTE WAY A GOD/GODDESS LIKE THEM LIKES SOMEONE LIKE HIM. Especially over THE Mihawk and THE Sir Crocodile. 

✦He felt like he had absolutely no chances

✦ Somehow you were clueless, both to his interest and to the advances of the other two. Which was surprising with how much they were flaunting themselves over you.

✦ It was Valentine's day and Crocodile and Mihawk had had a staring contest all day while showering you with gifts. You had thought they were doing it only in a friendly way, and gladly accepted the lavish gift they proposed you but to them it seemed you reciprocated both of them which didn’t sit right them

✦ Buggy spent all day looking longingly at you, the chocolates he clumsy made for you in an attempt to finally ask you out sitting in his back pocket. He was sure you were going to pick one of the others instead of him.

✦ at the end of the work day Mihawk and Crocodile confront you, Buggy sitting on thebopposite corner of the room with a glass of rum clutched in his hands.

"Will you share a wine bottle with me tonight?" Asks Mihawk

"No, they won't. I arranged for us for the finest restaurant in town" interjects Sir Crocodile

✦ that's when you realize their affection is not really platonic

"Ehm, actually I was thinking of asking Buggy" you reply blushing hard

Buggy chokes on his drink, face turning as red as his nose under the face paint.

You rush to him to pat on his back trying to help him stop the fit of cough that the chocking caused

"Asking me what?" He's very confused because you can't POSSIBLY be meaning what he hopes.

That's when you shyly offer him a paper bag he hadn't noticed you having before.

"Come on, open it"

✦ Under the bright red tissue paper he finds a chocolate box and a beautiful ornate dagger, with blue and red gems embezzled in it

"The gems reminded me of you" you told, a bit unsure. His face had pure shock and rended him in silence, you didn't know if it was a good sign.

✦ after a second his eyes glass over and he asks in an almost whiny tone

"You were thinking of me?" at that you giggle

"Of course silly! Will you be my Valentine?"

At this point Crocodile and Mihawk are just awkwardly standing there 🧍🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️... like were they blind? of course those two idiots loved each other

✦ "FUCK YESS!" Buggy basically trows yourself at you and brings you into a soaring kiss. His ego boosting. He envelops you with an arm while he detaches the other end to go to the two standing there while pointing the middle finger

✦ and you can't do anything other than blush and giggle into the kiss because gods he's an idiot, but you love him for it

#NO BETA WE DIE LIKE ACE

[triangle-dog]

TW pet death

(Not one of mine, don't worry. You won't miss anything if you skip this post.)

I will always and forever be a collar and tags person (or, look, if you are really concerned about strangulation then a harness & tags person or a breakaway collar or whatever). Microchips are great, all my beasts are microchiped, but if one of them gets out I want to be able to find them and bring them home no matter what has happened to them.

Two years ago, almost exactly I think, friends and I were three miles into a beautiful autumn hike with the dogs. The leaves were turning, the wildlife was active, and there was a crisp breeze. We rounded a corner and immediately saw a body floating out on the lake, a dog, its long black fur drifting back and forth in the small waves. After some deliberation on what to do, and if it was safe, I waded out to the dog while the others in the party held our dogs way back from the lake in case the water was bad. He wasn't that far out really, but it felt like it took forever to get there because I was fervently hoping he'd have tags. I could actually feel the relief wash over me when I got there and saw patches of blue collar peeking out between the drifting fur.

I towed him into the shallows by the collar. I'm the most familiar with bodies, which is why I was the one who went out to him, and I know that they age differently in the water but by my judgment he'd died farily recently - less than a day ago. When he's in close enough to shore that I don't think he'll drift away any time soon, I unclip his collar and return to the group. We sit down and strategize for a few minutes. How do you make a call like that without raising their hopes? (Answer: you can't - just the phone ringing will be enough).

"I'm very sorry," I say, "but I found a dog in the lake and I thought you would want to know." She tells me she was half expecting a call like this, that the gate didn't latch correctly and both dogs got out but only one came home. She tells me that they were so worried he wouldn't be able to find his way home in the storm last night. She tells me he was very old, that his mind had been going for awhile now. She tells me that most of his life, until the last few years as his body became less able to manage the walk, they would come down to a beach near here and that he loved to swim. She tells me she hopes he at least got to relive those memories for a bit before he went.

I give her the coordinates, it's not too far from a road if you bushwhack - certainly less than the 3mi we did, and tell her we'll bring him to shore. I pick him up out of the shallows, he feels frail, yet he's so so heavy from the weight of the water in his fur. He's much smaller than Nova, yet lifting Nova has never felt like that. I lay him gently on the rocky beach in what I hope is a natural looking, less-traumatizing-to-the-kids position. I clip his collar back on, with the fur no longer drifting around in the water obscuring it, you can now see the little tag saying "Poochie" on the front. We head back the way we came. That was walk enough for all of us, it would feel wrong to seek a different ending, and it was an out and back trail anyway.

Ever since then, every dead cat or dog I see reminds me of those lakeside discussions. We are all overly dedicated animal people, we're fully aware of microchips and all of our own pets are microchiped, but carrying a waterlogged body 3mi to the car to drive it to the vet's office was just not feasible - I don't think it would occur to most people that that was even an option. Even if they did think of it, most people would be opposed to putting a dead animal in their vehicle. I'm just gonna make it easy on people and put my phone number on my animals.

(Sorry, that post was so much longer than it needed to be, but my brain must have recorded that experience in a different kind of memory than usual because it is so so clear and comes all as a set like that so that's what you got too)

TLDR: OP found a dead dog once and has big feelings about it. Put collars/etc. on your pets

[yuri-is-online]

I feel like Octavinelle would all respond pretty well to you being lonely tbh

Azul: Bullied, lonely child? Only two friends made because he was "fun" enough and felt at risk of losing them? If you talk about being lonely he MIGHT bring up a contract, but I could also see your honesty being met by the most clumsy olive branch of him stammering that HE could be your friend... since hes so generous, of course (liar he wants a friend too)

Floyd: What?! That's no fun! Being lonely almost as bad as being bored! He kind of thrives on attention/entertainment so I feel like his solution is just to drag you wherever he goes. YOU have to be the one to say that no, you have to go to your own class not his.

Jade: While I do think he would be most manipulative if you told him you're lonely, I think it would be tame - akin to "hey eat this weird mushroom" or dragging you on a hike you are NOT experienced enough for as his "requirements" for companionship. He wouldn't stop hanging out if you refused, he really just likes seeing your reactions. I also don't think he'd ever kick you out of a room he's in, and he'd do his own thing while you do yours

I'm so glad you sent this because I was just thinking while I was settling to sleep that I had a lot more to say but was worried a separate post might be too much.

All Three

If there is one thing Twisted Wonderland does really well it's acknowledging the inhuman aspects of its characters. Malleus has so much magic he fails to solve problems without it, Ruggie has really sensitive hearing, Leona talks about smell a lot etc.

Point being the trio has a bunch of things they find weird about life on land. They're not really going to make fun of Yuu for feeling out of place. Assuming they don't trip and fall a whole bunch, that's just too easy.

They're technically new up here too yeah? Let them show you the ropes.

Azul

He's surprisingly soft with Yuu during events. Especially if you pick dialogue options that show intelligence or planning.

^ this happens if you get why he's selling salad cups I think?

^ and this one is if you assume you'll be using the bell of salvation to destroy the flowers

My one amendment to your idea is that I don't think he'd be shy about it at all. He'd be putting forward a show of confidence because of how he was slighted in the past. He would think your friendship was the most natural conclusion in the whole world.

Your smart. He's smarter. Together you could make some real magic! And maybe play some board games. He could use some time to relax.

Floyd

Completely right. I already talked a lot about him in my original answer, but I do think he enjoys hanging out with Yuu when he's in the mood to be social.

He's got all of that extrovert energy Idia's so afraid of, and if you start indulging him, you won't get to stop. I think he'd be really happy to have someone go along with what it is he wants to do no matter how outlandish it gets. Even better if you look like you're having fun!

I could see him say that you "owe him" for hanging out with you when he wants some of your food though.

Jade

Oh? You're lonely? What a shame. How horrible. Terrible really.

That must mean you'll have no problem signing up for his club right? Because that's very much what I could see him doing. He really wants another member to order arou- I mean enjoy the mountains with.

^ If you tell Epel you will be "Here for whatever [the team] needs." When he asks you to help run the Pit Stop, Jade immediately decides this means you will commit a crime for him. Which to be fair-

I would object to the bit about taking you on a hike you're unqualified for though. He tells you not to try climbing Mount Moln until you've done an easier one first.

Obviously I agree about the sketchy mushrooms. If he's brave enough to walk into the Culinary Crucible with them, what's Ramshackle?

Him coming to the Ramshackle guest room to sit quietly while you both do your own thing is something he'd really enjoy. You make much more interesting faces when he gives you a break from his teasing.

[dazaiandhislovelybandages]

15. "I'll keep kissing you." "Until you're sick of it?" "Until I can't think of anything else but you." For Gojo? Like s/o was feeling insecure if he really wants to date her but this is how he reassures her that he loves her dearly?

Quite The Romantics {Gojo Satoru}

A/n: thank you for requesting, I hope you like the outcome

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem! reader

Trigger warnings: mentions of self-doubt, insecurities and overall angst, implied sexual activity

Being in a relationship with the strongest sorcerer alive was easy. The late night calls that signalled missions, him worrying about his students, the higher ups... everything was manageable. It helped that you were also a sorcerer so you knew what the dangers were and Gojo didn't have to keep things a secret in order to protect you.

Being in a relationship with the most handsome man you've ever seen was not easy. It had been a mutual agreement to keep things lowkey and so far it had been fine. The students knew about you two and they were fully supportive and excited when they saw the two of you together inside the school grounds but things were not so simple outside of campus.

Gojo and you didn't share a home, yet at least since he had been pestering you for a month to move in with him; having a huge and luxurious apartment always had its perks. So when it came to dates there were only two options: either Gojo would pick you up or you would meet him at the date spot.

With your line of work, the latter was what usually worked best.

Tonight's date had been marvellous. From the food to the music to the view, you had to hand it to him; Gojo Satoru had taste. And even after the date, when the two of you returned to his place... everything was perfect. Perfect apart from one thing.

"Where's your little mind travelling?" Gojo returned from the bathroom, grey sweatpants on and a white towel on his head. The usual scent of sex had now been replaced by the smell of his body lotion and shampoo: roses.

You were a little hesitant to reply and in your mind it was only natural. Who wouldn't be nervous when the love of their life was asking them what is going?

"Oh no!" He plopped next to you on the bed, a small smirk on his face. "Can I guess?" He nuzzled his face in the crook of your head, his arm already wrapped around your waist.

"Go on." You sighed and turned on your side, facing him. Something about the way he hugged you felt comforting and you knew he knew it. It was a small trick Gojo always had up his sleeve that not even he knew how he had found out.

"Is it about the girl that came up to me while I was waiting for you at the restaurant? Don't be shy with me honey." He giggled. That bastard knew what he was doing and your silence wasn't helping your case. "I knew it." He pulled away from you with a smile.

You didn't want to admit it. Mostly because you were confident in yourself and in your relationship with him. But there were times when you could see other people flirting with him and something in you broke. You weren't nearly as confident as him, nor that much of an outgoing person and your ego was in normal levels. So what was stopping him from breaking up with you to find someone else?

Being in a relationship with Gojo Satoru only had perks. Gojo knew you better than anyone. He knew how to make you laugh, how to make you moan, how to make you stop crying. He also knew how to touch and kiss you.

"What are you doing?" You tried pushing him away but he was strong and he wasn't letting go of you. Pushing him away, especially when laughing at the same time, was never easy and you knew it, but you still did it anyway. Not because you wanted him away from you but because you wanted to piss him off.

"I'm kissing you." He laughed, placing another small peck on your collarbone before travelling up to your neck and then your cheeks and then your mouth.

"Haven't you kissed me enough already?"

"I'll keep doing it, I don't care."

"Until you're sick of it?"

"Until I know you know I can't think of anything else but you."

[starboyyoongi]

payment. jeong yunho au

⭑ summary: you come across a strange customer one night who is quick to reveal his true nature to you. later on, however, you find out just how cruel his intentions really are.

or, in which a terrifying run in with a customer one night leads to your own demise.

⭑ pairing: jeong yunho x female!reader

⭑ warnings/tags: cursing, mentions of murder, killer!yunho, character death, mentions of/brief descriptions of blood, use of nicknames (“baby”, “doll”, “love”)

⭑ notes: this has been proofread and edited a few times, but there may be some errors that i didn’t catch 🙂‍↕️ yunho’s been on the brain as of late so i had to write something for him and it ended up being murder related how comical. hope you guys enjoy and feel free to leave your thoughts! x

YOU’RE SO CAUGHT up in how shiny his eyes look under the fluorescent lights that you don’t notice how bloody his hands are.

it’s not until he reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet and places a twenty dollar bill on the counter that you see how much his hands are stained red. you feel yourself freeze up a little, hesitation evident in the way that your fingers retract a little. if he notices your sudden change in behavior, he doesn’t say anything about it. instead, he slides his items—ramen, a bottle of strawberry soju, and a pack of cigarettes—across the counter towards him and gives you a smile before he walks over to the vacant table in the corner.

you blink a couple of times and shake your head a little before you grab the twenty dollar bill and put it in the register. you owe him change—twelve dollars and twenty five cents to be exact—but you don’t feel like telling him. you’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that his hands are a bloody mess and he didn’t seem to mind it in the slightest.

you turn your attention back to your phone. maybe you’re seeing things. it’s after eleven at night and you didn’t get much sleep the night before or before you started your shift. it’s possible that all of that is starting to catch up to you, right?

right.

you glance over at him. only this time, it’s not his hands that catch your attention; it’s his face. and his shirt. and his arms. there isn’t a single part of him that’s not covered in dried blood. panic starts to creep in and you’re left feeling frozen once more. you want to look away from him, but you can’t. it’s like your eyes are practically glued to him.

you watch as he slurps up a mouthful of ramen and lets out a satisfied groan before he opens the bottle of soju. his long, slender blood stained fingers wrap around the bottle and he brings it to his lips to take a few gulps. there’s a bit of a pause before he places the bottle back down and lets out a sigh. he turns his head a little and looks around before his eyes land on you.

your eyes widen and you gasp as he smiles at you again. he parts his lips to say something, but you never get to hear it. a blank expression takes over his features instead, his smile almost immediately disappearing. the air suddenly feels thick and you can feel your heartbeat start to pick up.

you’ve never felt this feeling before.

in the eight months since you’ve started working at the convenience store, things have been okay for the most part. sometimes you had to deal with customers that had a little too much to drink and the occasional person who did a terrible job at hitting on you. you’ve also had your fair share of run ins with odd, if not mildly suspicious, customers, but nothing enough to elicit what you are currently feeling.

fear.

pure, genuine fear.

you try to run down a list of options in your head, but you can’t seem to focus. your heart feels like it’s pounding out of your chest and you can feel your hands start to tremble. the training your boss had given you months ago seems pointless now and you almost wish that the man staring you down was a robber instead. you’d have a much better chance at handling that than whatever this is.

as if something up above had heard you, your phone starts to buzz. you look at the phone screen then at him. he tilts his head to the side, a few strands of his dark hair moving as he does so. he squints his eyes and gives you a look that says i dare you. you grip your phone tightly in your hand and gulp.

fuck, you think to yourself. fuck, fuck, fuck.

you stare at each other as your phone continues to buzz before it stops. you secretly hope that it’ll ring again, but it doesn’t. you start to become acutely aware of how silent the store is now, save for some music playing softly in the background, and you hate it. you also hate how he’s still staring at you with that blank expression on his face.

he says something then, but you don’t catch it. the thoughts in your head are so loud that you can’t seem to hear anything else.

you wet your lips before stammering out a high pitched, “w–what?”

“i said,” he begins to say with an exasperated sigh, “where do you keep your computer? i need to access the cameras.”

“the cameras?” you repeat in the same high pitched tone.

“the cameras?” he says mockingly. “yes, the fucking cameras. jesus, you pretty girls really are fucking stupid.”

his comment leaves you stunned and your mouth falls open a little.

“i— what—”

“look, just tell me where the fucking computer is, okay? you can drool and masturbate over what i said later.”

“excuse me? i don’t— what?”

“you heard me. now, where’s the fucking computer?” he demands.

equally scared and taken aback by his crude comments, you point towards the door a few feet away from him and say, “it’s in there. the c–computer is in there.”

he grins at you as he comes to a standing position and it’s then that you realize how tall he is. without saying another word, he takes a few steps over to the door and pulls on the handle. you hear him mutter something about being stupid before he disappears into the office. once he’s out of sight, you let out a breath that you didn’t even realize you’ve been holding.

you take a couple of deep breaths before unlocking your phone and immediately dialing 119. you’re about to hit the call button, but you hesitate. you know that this is the right thing to do, but why doesn’t it feel that way?

you take a quick glance at the door. you don’t know how much time you have left, but it can’t be that much. all you have to do is hit the green button and tell the operator to send someone. that’s it. the whole thing shouldn’t take any longer than a minute or so. and yet, as you stare at the door and hover your finger over the screen, you can’t help but feel like you’re doing something wrong.

you’ve never been in this kind of situation before.

ever.

you think back to all of the times you’ve seen this exact scenario play out in movies and tv shows. the amount of times you’ve screamed at characters for saying or doing something stupid and ranting about what you’d do instead. but what you failed to realize back then is that all of it was fiction.

and this? this is real life.

and in real life, you don’t have time to sit around and wait for something to happen. it’s either do or die.

“fuck. okay,” you utter to yourself. “i got this. i can do this.”

with a sudden rush of determination, you unlock your phone again. this time, without any hesitation, you press the call button. you almost sigh in relief when you hear the operator on the other end pick up after a few rings and ask, “emergency services. what is your emergency?”

but as you open your mouth to speak, you hear the door open and suddenly the fear is creeping back in and your body is tensing up. you can hear the operator saying hello? and repeating what’s your emergency? over and over again. you don’t say anything as he slowly closes the door and cocks his head at you.

he knows.

you’re so caught up in the moment that you almost don’t hear him when he says, “do it.”

“do what?”

“don’t play coy with me. there’s a reason why you them called, right? so do it. tell them.”

you take note of the nonchalant tone in his voice. he seems unfazed, almost as if he doesn’t care about the fact that you’re a few words away from getting him arrested. the sound of the operator muttering a curse word and sighing breaks your thoughts.

“look, miss, is something wrong? or is this a prank call?” she asks. you can hear the annoyance in her voice and you know that if you don’t answer her, you might lose your only chance at getting help.

“yes, i…” you trail off.

you watch as he leans against the table and folds his arms across his chest, a smug look growing on his face. then he waits. he waits for you to say something, anything to the operator.

his words start to ring in your ears.

do it.

tell them.

tell them.

tell them.

“i’m sorry.” you finally say. you hear the woman on the other end let out a frustrated sigh as you continue. “i didn’t mean to call you guys. it was a dare. from a friend.”

you hang up before she can say anything else. he looks at you for a while longer, eyes roaming over your face and body, before he unfolds his arms and starts to clap slowly. he’s grinning so hard at you that you that it makes an all too familiar feeling start to stir in the pit of your stomach again.

“well done, baby,” he says. “maybe you aren’t so stupid after all, huh? or, well… well, maybe you are. i mean, shit, you practically made me get away with murder just now.”

your breath hitches in your throat.

murder?

“what do you— what do you mean that i let you get away with murder?” you ask timidly.

“oh, baby. don’t tell me that you saw all of this and thought that it was paint or something. no, see this,” he makes a sweeping gesture at himself, “is from the piece of shit that i killed half an hour ago. i always forget how messy murdering someone can be.”

“you killed someone?” you stammer out in disbelief.

he smiles. “of course i did.”

of course he did.

as the crushing realization starts to set in, you can’t help but start to wonder if you’re next. the thought is enough to make your chest start to feel heavy and your breathing start to speed up. you were next. you have to be. there’s no way that he’s going to let you go. not after he caught you calling the police on him and made you aware of his crime.

“woah, slow down there, baby. it looks like you’re about to have a panic attack and i can’t have you dying on me now. well… unless it’s because of me, of course.” he jokes.

you blanch at his words, barely able to register the fact that he’s joking.

when he sees the look on your face, he adds, “oh my god, relax. it’s a fucking joke. god, you should see your face right now.”

and then he laughs.

he laughs so hard and loud that it’s almost deafening.

“a joke?” you mumble out.

“yes, love. a joke. what, did you really think that i was going to kill you?”

“yes. i tried to call the police on you and i know about what you did.”

“and yet, you didn’t say or do anything about it, now did you? besides, i couldn’t kill a pretty doll like you. it’d haunt me in my sleep way too much.”

his words catch you off guard again, just like they did earlier. you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion. why did he say that? and why is he acting so nonchalant about everything? does he think that this—

“…anyways, i think that i should go now, but it was nice spending some time with you, baby,” he says with a wink.

you watch as he barely turns around to down the rest of his drink before he tosses the bottle and ramen container in the bin next to him. he swipes the carton of cigarettes off of the table and shoves them in his back pocket before he turns towards you again.

“you know what, maybe i should come back here again. have a little more fun with you, you know?” the comment comes out in a suggestive manner and it makes your stomach churn. you ignore it, though and instead focus on him leaving.

as he walks past the counter, you catch a whiff of his scent. it’s an odd mix of his cologne and the irony scent of blood and it makes you feel a little dizzy.

when he finally reaches the glass doors, he stops. you inhale sharply, half expecting him to turn around and say that he’s changed his mind and he’s going to leave you dead in the dumpster. instead, all he says is,

“you can keep the change by the way.”

you hear him say something else, but before you can muster up a response, he’s already out the door. you stand there for what feels like an eternity, your mind struggling to process everything’s that happened. you move on autopilot for the rest of your shift. thankfully, no other customers come in for the rest of the night. there’s no way that you’d be able to handle anymore interactions tonight.

when you go home an hour later, you make a beeline towards your bathroom. you quickly strip off your clothes and step inside of the shower. you don’t wait for the water to warm up like you usually do. instead, you let the cold water run down your body and watch it run down the drain. your mind and body haven’t stopped buzzing ever since he left. the level of fear that he made you feel was different. you’ve never felt anything like it before and you don’t want to feel it again.

fifteen minutes later, you’re out of the shower and in your bedroom. the cool air of your air conditioner hits your exposed skin and makes you shiver. you move quickly, lotioning your entire body and throwing on some pajamas before slipping into bed. but just as your about to lay down and settle in for the night, a sudden loud knock at your door stops you.

you glance at the time on your phone.

1:03 AM.

who could possibly be at your door at this hour?

you mutter out a string of curse words as you slide out of bed and start walking towards the front door. i can’t even fucking sleep in peace, you think to yourself bitterly.

when you finally reach the door, you lean in and stare into the peephole. all you see is wet, dark hair staring back at you and it takes you a few seconds to realize that you’re staring at the back of someone’s head.

“um, hello? can i help you…?” you call out.

there’s a weird sinking feeling in your stomach as you watch the person turn around and when you see a familiar set of eyes looking back at you, your blood runs cold.

“hey, baby. open up the door for me, please.”

your breath hitches.

he’s not supposed to be here.

how did he—

“i know that you’re in there, doll. i can hear you breathing and shit.”

no.

“don’t make me wait all night now. open the door, baby. i’m asking you nicely.”

no, no, no.

“how did you find me? why are you here?” you finally ask, fear evident in your voice.

“i followed you here. you should really pay attention next time, doll. you could seriously get hurt, y’know.” he responds in a casual tone.

he steps closer to your door and peers into your peephole, almost as if he’s trying to look at you. “now can you open the door for me? please?”

“no. i don’t want to.”

“why not? ah! i know what it is. it’s because you don’t know my name, right?”

“what? n–no, it’s—”

“yunho. my name is yunho. and don’t worry about telling me yours, baby. i already know it.”

“how do you—” you begin to ask, but you pause.

“your name tag. don’t tell me that you already forgot about wearing one,” yunho says teasingly. he shakes his head before he continues, “but now that that’s out of the way, can you let me in please?”

“i— no. no, you need to leave. now, yunho.”

you immediately back away from the door, making sure to make as little noise as possible. you wait for his response, but you never get one. instead, you’re met with an eerie silence. you stand there for a minute, holding your breath and waiting to hear even the slightest bit of noise. when you feel like he’s gone, you let out a sigh. you go to turn on your heel, but the sudden sound of numbers being punched into your door’s keypad makes you come to a halt.

you watch in horror as your door opens and you come face to face with yunho. he closes the door behind him before he toes off his boots and places them in the corner right next to yours. he takes a step further, but you immediately take one back. he raises an eyebrow at you and hums then takes another step forward. you take another one back. the two of you go one like this until you end up backing up into your couch and he’s standing right in front of you.

his hand shoots out and you hardly have enough time to stop him from wrapping his fingers around your neck and pressing his body against yours. your hands fly up to push him back, but he catches your wrists in his hand.

“you know, you have a shitty leasing office. it was too easy to get the code to your place,” he begins calmly. “but you made it even easier. the code is your birthday, right?”

your eyes widen at his sudden revelation. this didn’t make any sense. it’s after midnight. nobody in the leasing office is there that late unless he—

“you didn’t...” you say.

“oh, but i did.” he grins. “they should get better security if they don’t want someone breaking into their office.”

“oh my go—” you gasp out, but you get cut off by yunho tightening his grip.

“i don’t know why you’re so shocked to see me, though, doll. i told you that i was coming.”

“n–no you didn’t.”

“yes, i did. right before i left.”

“no. you s–said that i can k–keep the change. that’s it.”

“and? what else did i say afterwards? i know that i called you stupid earlier, but you can use that fucking brain of yours, can’t you?”

almost immediately, your mind goes back to when he was leaving earlier. you remember him walking towards the door and stopping once he got to them. you also remember him telling you to keep the change and that he’d—

when he finally reaches the double doors, he stops. you inhale sharply, half expecting him to turn around and say that he’s changed his mind and he’s going to leave you dead in the dumpsters. instead, all he says is,

“you can keep the change by the way.”

he pauses before he adds, “you’ll be paying me back in another way later.”

your whole body begins to shake and your stomach lurches. there’s a sudden pang in your chest and before you know it, tears are starting to well up in your eyes.

“no,” you shakily breathe out. “no, yunho, please. i’m sorry. please, don’t.”

yunho looks at you with feigned concern as he releases his grip on your wrists and neck. you see this as your opening and try to move past him, but you immediately freeze up when you feel the uncomfortable sharpness of yunho’s knife at the base of your neck.

in one last ditch effort, you lift your hands up and wrap them around his throat. you squeeze as hard as you can and watch as his face breaks out into a smile so unnerving that it makes your skin crawl.

“are you h–having fun playing with m–me, doll?” yunho chokes out. his face is starting to turn red, but he never stops smiling. it’s like he’s enjoying this more than he’s supposed to.

you open your mouth to respond, but a sudden burning sensation in your abdomen stops you. you let out a small gasp and look down. blood is seeping into your shirt and creating a bright red stain in its wake. a wave of dizziness hits as you graze your fingers over the wet material, wetting your fingers with blood in the process.

“yunho…” your voice comes out in a quiver.

“i know that it hurts, doll. i’m sorry.” yunho gently coos, driving the knife even further into your stomach. he shushes you when you let out a pained cry, tears falling down your face. he moves closer and rests his forehead against yours, warm skin a stark contrast to how clammy yours is becoming.

you’re in so much pain that you can barely keep your eyes open let alone hear him over the loud ringing in your ears. you can’t focus. everything is too much. the pain is too much. he inhales deeply before he sighs, warm, minty breath fanning over your nose and lips. you screw your eyes shut as he gently presses a kiss to your forehead before he continues in a sweet, melodic tone almost.

“but it’s my turn to have fun with you now, okay? this is how you have to pay me back and i’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

[frozenjokes]

cubfan135 vs mumbo jumbo’s monstrous self induced pseudo catholic guilt (and the world)

Mumbo woke with a jolt, nearly a scream, forehead sweating, fingers gripping the sheets, he needed- he needed- this was wrong, this was all wrong, this isn’t what he wanted, this-

Mumbo curled his fingers into his hair, struggling to breathe, the phantom sensation of Cub’s teeth in his neck not helping a bit. He’d lost himself, completely lost himself, he wasn’t- but-

He was fine. He was still here. He still had his head. He.. was fine.

Still hungry. Still starving, undoubtedly still starving, this had not changed, and Mumbo didn’t believe he’d gotten any relief either since he hadn’t really eaten, and if he remembered correctly, Cub hadn’t been very afraid regardless, but..

It.. It was fine. He had killed someone in a human form, and not only had the experience not overwhelmed him, he had kept his sentience. His shadow still yearned for more, but even it had quieted briefly, like that despite not being able to consume Cub properly, the experience of the hunt was enriching enough to settle the monster, at least for now. The ache of starvation still enveloped Mumbo, but he felt.. lighter?

Maybe it was the reciprocal nature of it all. Cub was just as intent on Mumbo's murder as Mumbo was on his, and given the option, both of them would have drawn things out considerably.

But as shock and the wonder of it all began to fade, sitting in bed, Mumbo was left with an ache deeper than the starvation that haunted him day to day. He just.. felt bad. He felt really bad, and had no idea if it was because of killing Cub, but he didn’t think so, the fight was just as mutual as it was violent, Mumbo had no reason to feel so wrong. But he was wrong, he couldn’t shake it, he was deeply, utterly wrong, he was dirty, he’d just done a terrible thing and all the enjoyment he’d taken from the act made him feel sick and depraved. He was blurring the lines between the Good Mumbo, holy and just, versus the shadow, evil and wrong for wanting and taking, and the discrepancy between these two persons was a source of deep distress.

Mumbo hadn’t planned this, he wasn’t ready for this to happen, but it had, and it had been fine, good even, and he was still here, the threat of losing himself to the clinging tar of his shadow proving to not be an issue, at least right now.

This.. This was good. It should have been good. Why couldn’t it just be good?

At least this experience would stay between them. No one else would have to know. Mumbo could work out these issues personally, figure out why he couldn’t just be pleased with himself, and get on with his life. If he dared to be so optimistic, perhaps that life could continue here, on Hermitcraft, if Cub or Scar found a way to permanently curb the hunger, adjust his species, anything.

But right now he felt dirty and lonely and wrong. He considered calling Cub, but Mumbo got the feeling he’d be about as sympathetic as a rock. Honestly though, Mumbo didn’t need someone to spill the details to, he didn’t want anyone to know the details, he just.. most of him just wanted a hug. To feel safe in someone else’s arms, a little less shameful, a little less guilty. Grian was the obvious choice.

But when Mumbo picked up his communicator to give Grian a call, his heart stopped beating altogether.

cubfan135 was slain by Mumbo Jumbo

Mumbo Jumbo was slain by cubfan135

The chat below the death messages had exploded into noise, filled with ??!??!?s and ‘whoa!!s’ and a particularly enthusiastic ‘YAY!!!!’ from Scar, along with questions and teasing and a chat moving so fast it would have knocked Mumbo off his feet if he’d been standing. Mumbo was famous among the hermits for his stance on violence, his vehement straying from all things ending in pvp and death.

And now everyone knew.

…

Cub woke up a little dazed and a little dizzy, as was typical for an expenditure of that much power. The fire of his adrenaline was still simmering down, and honestly he couldn’t say he knew how he died. Sure, having your stomach ripped open from chest to groin wasn’t very good for your health, but Cub hadn’t felt himself slowing down yet. It was just over. Had Mumbo survived? He had definitely been slowing down, hardly fighting back by the time everything went dark for Cub, but who knew. In hindsight, Cub wished he hadn’t gone so hard on the whole ‘trying to kill Mumbo’ thing, it would have made far more sense to let Mumbo take the meal but alas. He was too focused. Too frightened when the dynamic had suddenly flipped, death in Mumbo’s dark eyes where there had been no intention before, where he’d hardly had the energy to fight back, much less chase Cub through the second section of the maze on elongated limbs.

Cub chuckled quietly to himself. Awesome. Yeah. That was awesome.

He figured Mumbo would have probably thought it was something like awesome as well, at least an adjacent feeling; Cub didn’t entirely understand why Mumbo wanted to be eaten in the first place, but even if there didn’t end up being much eating in the end, it seemed like they’d both gotten at least partially what they wanted. This felt like a breakthrough. A win.

He remembered through the daze with a small jolt that he could check the chat, see when Mumbo had died or if he died at all. Somehow, Cub did not expect the explosion of chat messages that greeted him. The attention wasn’t even directed at him, but it was enough to make him feel queasy all the same, having to scroll to find the death messages in the first place. This wasn’t good, no, Cub didn’t think Mumbo would like this at all, not when the topic was so private, so sensitive. He sent a quick message about this being an accident, a thin layer of damage control he refused to elaborate on as he focused on finding the timestamps of their deaths. Two death messages, he’d seen enough to know that, and very few hermits reacted between the first and the second, so Cub doubted there were more than thirty seconds between their mutual ends. Oof. Hermit reactions were bad though. Hurriedly, Cub sent Mumbo a message as well, first asking if he was okay, and then if he was feeling any better. He just needed to make sure. It was too much attention, too much, Cub hadn’t even thought about that, and he doubted Mumbo had either. Before he tried to bite my damn face off at least.

Cub’s mouth hung open just slightly, caught in the memory. Cub seeing, but not understanding until his wrist was clamped in Mumbo’s teeth, Cub’s blood on his lips while Mumbo’s blood was painted on his own, but there was a shift, exhilarating but equally unidentifiable, Cub’s attempts to escape only half hearted when he couldn’t stop looking at Mumbo’s eyes, dying, or perhaps already dead. That look. That would stay with Cub forever. It was.. well, it was making him feel a kind of way, but Mumbo wasn’t there yet, almost certainly not, though if Cub deluded himself enough to chase this.. He nearly groaned at the thought, a hand drifting to his belt, but wait, stop it, silly stupid dog of a brain.

He checked his communicator, looking for confirmation from Mumbo that he was fine. Mumbo had not responded. Well. Cub hadn’t sent the message that long ago. He’d send another, asking Mumbo to confirm, then wait for an answer. Cub could wait. He could! His priorities were perfectly in order here.

Cub stared at his communicator for a while. He set it down, letting his head flop to the pillow. He stared at the ceiling. Shifted his legs a bit. Crossed them. Uncrossed them. Closed his eyes, letting his neck fall back- no, bad idea. He sat back up, mildly irritated, eying his communicator which should have pinged by now; he’d turned the notifications on for this specific message. Cub checked Mumbo’s texts. Mumbo had read them, but not responded.

Probably not a sign of anyone being upset about anything, surely not, said the part of his brain that was still fixated on the way Mumbo had looked at him, no longer seeing a person, but a shrieking meal. How Cub had known, seeing him then, that he was going to die. That he could not stay here because Mumbo, even exhausted as he was, would overpower him. That he had to run. Cub shivered from the memory, the raw emotion of it crystal clear in his mind, and god if he didn’t want to do anything but chase it with his fingers, aided by memories that would never be this fresh again.

Priorities. Priorities. First Cub would hop over to the moth ball and make sure Mumbo was okay. Let him know it was fine, he’d take care of anyone nosing around where they had no business looking, and after fifteen to thirty minutes of alone time, he’d do just that. Take care of it.

Grian was just about the worst person Cub could have met at Mumbo’s base, but ah well. Grian was staring up into the moth ball, face painted in a hearty concern that Cub quite honestly did not want to deal with, so he flew to the top instead, poking a hole in the ceiling to check if Mumbo was there. He wasn’t. Even worse, his patented expert plan of Ignore Grian did not work.

“Cub!” Grian squawked, typical of him when he was feeling particularly strongly, “What happened? Where is Mumbo- Is he okay? What happened!?”

“I don’t know where Mumbo is. I was just looking for him.”

“What-“ Grian did not get to finish, Cub blasting off on his firework rockets toward Mumbo’s mountain-side town. Unfortunately, Grian didn’t seem to get the hint, hot on Cub’s tail when he landed at Big Ron’s. Cub went inside, closing the door on Grian’s face before he could continue pestering. This was not as effective as Cub would have liked.

“Cub.” Grian seethed, feathers at his neck and wings standing on end, “Tell me what happened.”

“It was an accident, Grian, nothing to cry about.”

“You mentioned that.” Grian hissed through gritted teeth, sounding just about as pissed off as Cub was with him, “Can you spare any details? I am worried.”

Cub considered dismissing him, but Grian would not back down on an issue like this, nearly stepping on Cub’s heels as he poked his head into the back room, saw no Mumbo, then started to make his way out of the store. Cub realized a little too late he didn’t have a story prepared.

“He was helping me screw in a lightbulb. Simple as that. He’s tall and I’m on the shorter side, but even he couldn’t reach it, so I got on his shoulders. Fell. Died. Must’ve been low health, I wasn’t paying attention. Focused on the lightbulb.” Cub continued into the next store. Grian stopped where he was, gaping, so Cub took the opportunity to close the establishment door in his face.

Grian half-growled, throwing open the door and stomping inside. “How- Okay, I don’t- How did you both die? And why did the messages say you killed each other?” Grian sounded an awful lot like he didn’t believe Cub, but Cub was more focused on the fact he’d forgotten Mumbo died too. Hm.

“The lightbulb was really high up, Grian.”

“You said.”

“I couldn’t reach it, even on Mumbo’s shoulders. So I was using my kitchen tongs. Have you seen my kitchen tongs, Grian?”

“No. I have not seen your kitchen tongs.” Grian sounded very much like he was losing his patience, so Cub tried to hurry it up.

“They have sharp ends, kinda sharp, that’s why I was asking. So I was using them to screw in the lightbulb, but Mumbo and I lost our balance, and I’m flailing a little, Mumbo is tall, and as I’m falling I get him right through the neck with my tongs, and he- he punched me. Really hard. Then I died. Then he must have also died. Freak accident.”

“I don’t believe you!”

Cub shrugged, not looking back. “That’s a you problem.”

“Cub!”

“Grian. Relax. Mumbo is fine, it was just an accident. He’s done plenty other things a lot closer to murder than dropping me, so I highly doubt he’s any amount upset about it. I mean- he wanted- he agreed to do the lightbulb! He was totally fine with this! Wherever he is, I’d bet anything he’s asleep. We were doing some pretty intense physical labor for a couple hours before the lightbulb incident, so dying might’ve knocked him right out. I’m pretty tired as well. It’s just a matter of finding where he respawned.” Cub left the store pointedly as he spoke, entering another and shutting the door fast behind him, but this time Grian caught it, wrenching it back open and stepping inside.

“If you’re so sure he’s fine, why turn his whole town upside down looking for him?”

“Just looking out for a friend, G.”

“Since when are you two all buddy-buddy anyway? Mumbo’s never said a word about you! You’ve never said a thing about him either.”

“Not to you.”

Grian puffed up, squawking, “What’s that supposed to mean!?”

Cub turned on Grian, his own patience running dangerously thin, “Has anyone ever told you you’re insufferable. This is none of your business, so butt out.”

“I- How dare you! Of course this is my business, Mumbo’s my best friend! If something was wrong with Scar and I knew and refused to tell you, you’d rip my throat out over it!”

“If something this wrong was happening with Scar, I wouldn’t sit back and watch. I won’t do it, not with anyone, even hermits I don’t particularly know very well. But you would. Even Scar would, neither of you want to touch Mumbo’s issues with a twenty foot pole.” Cub took a dangerous step toward Grian, who stood his ground, but Cub saw the twitch of his brow, the crack in his fury, “If you wanted to make this your business, you would have already. But you haven’t. So I did. Cope or die.”

“What- Cub. What did you do.” It was not a question, but Cub didn’t care to answer, pushing past Grian in a forceful shove of his shoulder. To the next building. Cub slammed the door so hard in Grian’s face that he could not catch it.

“Cub!” Grian’s face was furious and red, the door cracking on the doorstop as Grian whipped it back open, “Tell me what happened! Tell me what you did!” Grian grabbed the wrist of Cub’s lab coat to which Cub whirled on him immediately, raking his claws across Grian’s face. Grian screeched, but Cub was not done, Mumbo was not here, and Cub didn’t need anyone tailing him, especially not Grian. Cub lunged, aiming for the throat, but the neck of Grian’s sweater got in the way, tearing under his fingers. Grian screamed, but was too slow, falling shortly to the second blow. Cub produced his sword, ending him quickly. No need to draw out the suffering, not when Cub would be out of here in less than a minute.

Briefly, he checked his communicator. Mumbo had not responded, nor had he said anything in any public chat, and if Grian hadn’t even gotten a message, well.. Cub didn’t believe Mumbo was asleep, that was for sure. If he could avoid any hermits, he’d drop by Mumbo’s shops just to make sure, then he’d start looking elsewhere. Invisibility would be a godsend today. Cub nodded to himself, taking off toward his own base to retrieve a couple potions.

…

Mumbo understood why pigs liked the mud. There was no shortage of it on the Hermitcraft server, especially this season with the rain, but today it was sunny and warm, and the muck was cool and slick and stuck to you like a heavy hug. The pigs were a little less pleasant. Mumbo had never met a pig that didn’t want to put any part of him in its mouth at all times, which, whatever. Mumbo couldn’t say he cared very much, and given he’d been here for a while, most of them were ignoring him by now.

Pigs were not soft or particularly comforting animals, but they were sweet, if not a little dramatic, squealing and screaming at most inconveniences (reminding him of Grian and Scar, sometimes), though he supposed the pig still trapped in his arms had a reason to be shrieking; if it was any other day, that would have meant certain death, but today Mumbo was just looking for a companion. Not that the pig was still squealing; it had stilled eventually when it realized Mumbo wasn’t trying to hurt it, but the quiet was almost worse, leaving him alone with his own thoughts. He didn’t much like it. Maybe he should get another pig to spoon.

A new batch of them had come around just recently, curiosity apparently renewed as they sniffed and snorted and stepped on Mumbo like he wasn’t even there. He was a little annoyed with them, but that was better than thinking about himself, so all in all, he accepted these next few minutes as they were, covered in muck and mildly uncomfortable with a massive sow cradled in his arms and snorting contentedly.

“Dude, this sucks.”

Mumbo shrieked, dropping his pig and making Cub jump up in turn, more startled than Mumbo had ever seen him.

“What?” Cub looked around a little wild eyed, like he was not the problem here, “What’s wrong?”

“You- You- Where did you come from!?”

“I’ve been here for a while now!” Cub matched Mumbo’s volume, but alarm was shifting more to bafflement, “It’s- I thought you knew-“ Cub stopped, looking at his communicator, “It’s been twenty minutes. You looked directly at me I thought- Do you sleep with your eyes open?”

“Not- Not usually-“ Mumbo’s heart still raced, but he was starting to calm down, confusion overtaking his terror. Slowly, he latched back onto his pig, who had apparently fallen asleep. “Goodness gracious me.”

“Yeah. That.” Cub laid back down, kicking absently at a pig who was stubbornly chewing on his pant leg. He was quiet, but only for a moment. “Did I say that this sucks yet? Why are you doing this.”

“I can’t go home.”

“Is this about the death messages?” Cub grimaced, inhaling guiltily through his teeth, “Yeah, I really didn’t think that one through. Not that things went entirely as planned, but oh well. It’s okay though, I’ve got it under control. If anyone bothers you about it, you can send them right to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Mumbo felt his voice crack, and his entire heart and soul split in two. No pigs could have drowned out the weight of his shame, not with Cub right there, not with the extremity of his starvation slamming back into him in the presence of the person he didn’t survive long enough to take. But he wanted it, he still wanted it more intensely than he did before, and maybe the worst thing was that Cub was just fine with that- How was it that he could be so okay while Mumbo was still being crushed under the weight of his own fear and guilt.

Cub sat up, brow furrowing in confusion. “About.. about what? It’s fine, Mumbo, whatever it is. You don’t have to be so upset, not about anything. With the death messages, I’ll take care of it. I promise I will.”

“I know you don’t care!” Mumbo felt wretched, a horrid sob wracking his entire body, “I know it doesn’t matter to you. I know you don’t care. But I care. I care so much, and I can’t stop caring. I didn’t even get to eat, I hurt you and I couldn’t even take it, and you didn’t even care, it would have made a terrible meal, but I’m still- I can’t stop hating it. Hating me. I know there’s not a single reason I should feel this miserable and that’s worse! And everyone-“ Mumbo’s breath caught in his throat and he choked on it, burying his head into his pig, who snorted absently, “Everyone is going to know. It doesn’t matter what you say. How you explain it off. If I have to eat, then they’ll all know. They’ll- they won’t hate me-“ Mumbo’s voice dropped to a strangled whisper, hardly having the strength to push out the words, “They won’t hate me. But if they’re smart they’ll be wary. They’ll be afraid. They’ll know what I’m going to do to them, and they’ll be afraid. They’d be right for it, and I’ll be miserable. Just miserable. And I- I think I’d deserve it. It’s just like you said, isn’t it? It’s such a selfish thing I’m doing, holding on to sentience. To live like this, knowing exactly what I’ll do in the end.”

“I- I don’t remember saying that-“ Cub stumbled over his words, looking like a man severely out of his depth, “Oh dear.”

“Yeah.” Mumbo muttered, somewhat snide as he side eyed Cub from where his face was buried in his pig. He couldn’t help it, the bitterness that crept through his tone. It didn’t really matter what Cub said or did, he had started this. He was the one all but forcing Mumbo to eat, to try it, to hold onto some sort of faux hope that this could work, keep him sentient, only at the cost of doing exactly the thing he so desperately wanted to avoid. Hurting people, his people. Taking advantage of every fear and frenzy, using them to hold on to his own unraveling humanity. Cub would not find a cure in those woodland mansion libraries, nor would Scar, they couldn’t read the language, and Mumbo did not believe any amount of old magic could fix him anyway. He was older than the oldest magic. He was too broken. Evil was too integral to his ever-shifting design.

Cub looked like he was staring down a lion’s den.

“You’re not human, Mumbo,” Cub spoke slowly, cautiously, like he knew whatever he was going to say wouldn’t be helpful, but he didn’t know what else to do, “You’re a predator, you’re hungry, and it’s not wrong of you to eat.”

“It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter, Cub! It doesn’t matter what I do, it always ends with me being miserable. I can’t even spare the world from my existence, I can’t die, I just live on, hunting and spreading my wretchedness everywhere I go. I’m doomed to hurt and be hurt.”

Mumbo could not read minds, but he knew well enough that the stark fear that was pulsing off Cub in heavy waves was not due in any part to the impending destruction of the server, or Cub’s potential role as a rat to a snake. Cub didn't know what to do because there was no reasoning with Hurt. Cub was looking for a way out like a rabbit cornered by a salivating dog, and boy was Mumbo ever, the patch of skin where he held the sow tight to his face wet with his own saliva. God, that pissed him off. That Cub was more afraid of him right now than he’d ever been.

“That- That’s not-“ Cub looked distinctly like he was waging a great internal battle, every single muscle in his body strained, “It’s not true. That you’re only- You’re not only hurting people.”

“Is it not? What do you call this then, Cub? Wiping out whole servers and then having to face what I’ve done before moving on. Worse, befriending the server’s inhabitants before I tear them all to shreds. It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter if I’m not a human, if I deserve to eat, or even if technically it’s not morally unsound to do any of the things I’m doing. It doesn’t matter. Because I, human Mumbo Jumbo, will still feel like shit.”

“No- Not that, not that..” Cub trailed off, and Mumbo was willing to bet he was more fidgety than he’d ever been in his entire life, “You’re not only hurting people because.. I- Some- Some people, just throwing this out there, haha..” Cub stopped, staring so blatantly at Mumbo for any sort of reaction or change, but Mumbo remained stony, glaring daggers right back, “..Some people might find that whole endeavor, uh, kind of attractive.”

…

“Not me though, haha. Not.. I’ll see myself out. But like. If there was a case that this was the case and someone did find these encounters to be some kind of net positive, then you would be wrong. So you wouldn’t have to be sad about it. Because someone. Not.. naming names or anything.. Someone might be very pleased about it.” Cub paused, fiercely anxious, then as if Mumbo didn’t understand, clarified, “Like. In the jerking off about it kinda way. This world is full of freaks, Mumbo. You gotta- you gotta be careful-“ Cub scrambled to his knees, tripping over the pig that was still after his pant leg, “I’ll go. I’ll go.” Cub seemed to hit the height of his terror, seeing an out, desperately trying to leave, and at the back of Mumbo’s mind, he and his shadow both seemed to agree that if ever there was a time to seize a meal, it would be now.

For the first time in his entire existence, Mumbo killed Cub instantly when his back was turned, because any other method would have lost precious amounts of that sweet terror.

And just like the first time, his first human murder, the feeling was all encompassing, but unlike then, in his state of extreme hunger, all Mumbo felt was deep, deep relief.

He took everything.

And afterwards he stumbled away, sluggish and dizzy in the wake of his first satisfying meal in ages, and he laid down in the grass outside of the pig pen. Maybe the craziest part, the most baffling, striking thing about this, was that he did not feel emotionally bad. Maybe he couldn’t feel bad, not in the afterglow of a meal so intense, but this hadn’t.. None of this was engineered. Mumbo was upset, very upset, and he still might be? He couldn’t tell, not now, but Cub had gotten worked up all on his own.

It was different. Distinctly different, but the outcome was still the same.

Mumbo didn’t have the mind to think much longer, about the implications of what this could mean for him or anything else. He was still so tired, from the respawn and the events before, and his limbs were heavy and heart slow, his body seeming to shut itself down as sometimes happened after a particularly good meal.

…

Mumbo was disoriented when he woke up at home. At first he was frightened; he’d been tucked so firmly under the blankets of his bed that he could barely move. He’d wondered if he’d died, but dead people don’t wake up under the sheets. Had he dreamed…? Mumbo tried to go over the events of the past day in his head, and all of it was so certifiably insane that it very well could have been a figment of his imagination, especially the part where he’d killed but not gotten to eat Cub in the labyrinth, hunger dreams were a bitch, but he- quite honestly, he couldn’t get over the bed! He did not trap himself in bed like this, someone else had done it, and they’d done it like they never wanted Mumbo to get out of bed again.

There was something on his forehead.

Wriggling, Mumbo managed to get one arm out of his blanket prison. He plucked the sticky note off his forehead, reading it through bleary eyes.

‘I am so sorry’

Mumbo stared, blinking slowly. That must be from Cub, that’s the only person who could have left it. That’s the only person who could have brought him back here, too, unless he told someone, which sparked a moment of fear in Mumbo that he quickly dismissed. He very much doubted Cub would tell anyone; for all his nonchalance, Cub at least seemed to be protective of this secret. Well. To anyone but Scar, maybe. Still, Mumbo was pretty sure this was Cub’s doing.

Mumbo wrestled against his blankets, finally breaking free with much effort, then sitting up in bed, heaving a long breath. It was almost shocking how much air he could take. In the depths of his starvation, anxiety was one of his worst enemies, and it was always a small shock to remember the feeling of a full chest of air. Mumbo closed his eyes. His head still ached, and badly at that, but it was different. His health was not good, one meal would never fix him so completely, but the voice at the back of his head was just a little bit quieter. He felt satisfied for the first time in so, so long. Not sated, no, never sated. But satisfied. Mumbo let a small smile cross his face, slow, but genuine, and sighed, reveling in a good mood he hadn’t experienced naturally on his own for a long, long while. Maybe this could work. It was truly astonishing how rapidly he’d gone from wretchedly depressed to.. well, maybe hopeful was a strong word. This just.. didn’t seem so impossible anymore.

Mumbo looked back down, squinting at the sticky note.

…

Why was Cub sorry again?

[dead-boys-club]

†  pocket sized : various.

❥ scenario: pocket babies ❥ i don't think burnout is a trigger but- ❥ no beta ❥ requested

❥ includes: dr. ratio, blade and argenti

❥ dr. ratio.

even being so small, he's still endlessly curious and analytical; shocking, i'm sure. of course, he has his tiny notebook for notes, something you managed to put together simply for his observations. you can't count the amount of times he's asked to be picked up or have objects brought closer so he can analyze, usually in an intense, hyper focused state.

considering he's still a doctor, it will be put to use, insistent on checking your health on a regular basis. where he got his makeshift tools.. you weren't exactly sure but you never stopped him from his examinations. he is always concerned about your well-being. he gives advice, expecting you to take it, wanting to make sure you stay healthy - he wouldn't be very happy if something happened. he can often be found reminding you to drink water, eat something that actually counts as real food or get sleep. because in his opinion, you do none of the things you're supposed to.

he's not much of a fighter, but he has his own way of showing protectiveness towards you. he often warns you about things when going out, offering logical plans to keep you say. he won't say it out loud but he's aware he isn't going to be very helpful at his size but he makes up for that with logical response - even if sometimes you brush him off with an 'it's fine, i'm fine'.

❥ blade.

pocket sized blade is still blade; his quiet, brooding nature is still ever present. he keeps a watchful eye out and prefers staying close, more often than not silently settled on your shoulder. it's like having an alert little bird. despite being so quiet, he offers a comforting weight wherever he sits, reminding you that you aren't alone.

you weren't sure how or where he got it, but you were amused to learn he had a very intricately designed sword he carries around; you never felt the need to ask. blade is always prepared to defend you, ready to jump from your pocket or shoulder. he quite agile for a little guy, reflexes sharp as ever.

blade is very much an action over words being, meaning you most likely aren't aware of how he can be. he takes it upon himself to sit guard while you sleep, either sitting by your pillow or on your nightstand; occasionally, he'll be on your windowsill. he's very loyal, always ready to step between you and whatever danger you could be facing.

❥ argenti.

chivalrous as ever, always looking out for you. he insists on always being with you, sitting, hanging on or in a pocket or bag, wanting to be available and ready if you need him. drawing his sword dramatically against things like little bugs is quite amusing.

he's going to do everything he can to be useful, even if it's just carrying little things for you. he takes his position as companion and protector very, very seriously. he can be found giving compliments and grand gestures, kneeling and attempting to kiss your fingertip since the knuckle isn't exactly an option.

pep talks seem to be a honed skill of his, offering you encouragement from your pocket. he oozes wisdom and confidence at such a small size, offering advice about your daily choices and how to handle certain things.

[guardian5tiger3]

The next phase of your life.

Options

1 2 3

4 5 6

Pick a picture, tarot + intuitive messages :)

Group 1

Page of cups, ten of pentacles, ace of pentacles, temperance

So I'm seeing success in family and support from eachother. That could be anybody cause on the ten of pentacles there was two dogs that caught my eye. Could even be spirit ok. The page of cups is coming off like a well nurtured child so that could be you because of this going on in the future feeling like this or you should be proud of a child in your life. If any fighting or I wanted to say bickering is going on, spirit wants everyone to calm down and get along and at least be civil. I am feeling lighthearted so the fighting could be lighthearted but someone just said to me "chill." So yeah. Really positive energy but I did get behind the scenes it of course isn't perfect but I say while you're transitioning into the new energy just look on the bright side and try to be the person that initiates a peaceful energy.

Group 2

You guys and or someone around you is choosing love over something else. I felt really light in my chest earlier so this is going to naturally get rid of a lotta negative attachments. This seems subtly life changing. For most of you no this is not romantic, some of you it is but for a lot of you if anything this is first self love and love for everything around you which is the realest form of true love you guys. This will make you generally really content and nothing will feel so serious and possibly damaging. I didn't get the fool but damn it's almost like fool energy.

For those who this is romantic! Someone from your past is choosing love or you are and you guys are simply gonna get back together :) . 💗

And for all of you, romantic partner(s) will come in after you've balanced out this energy and got settled into it.

Group 3

You guys must have cut someone off or something I suppose that was causing issues and it feels like, ahh finally peace. Well that's honestly about that. Nobody has the right to take advantage of your time and energy. You're moving onto better things and I think you guys already know what that is and with six whole piles you all feel completely different and special.

Eye of the tiger came on the radio . Been my favorite song since I was probably like 7 years old so I love you guys that must have something to do with something regarding some of you. A lot of you must be focusing on something important..

Group 4

So you guys the song playing on the radio is called like a prayer by Madonna. I'm being told and the cards are also showing that you guys it isn't really just faith by any means but you guys are so well off because you carry this energy with you that you know the universe and what it's about and you all are just blessed I can't even put it into words but I think you guys know. I see y'all being obedient to a higher power and they're guiding you to an energy that almost is like a rising sun. You seem to trust anything you lost or will lose is in your favor and the favor of the highest good of everything and everyone. I'm seeing that you're being guided to go exactly. I repeat exactly. Where you need to be. I'm getting something like nourishment for your soul. It kind of seems like a lot of you have to be strong and let go of certain people and you know it's ok. Just remember not to worry. You are being guided. Bless! I'm not being told anymore but I do hope this helps.

Group 5

I'm getting something about math or spiritual laws maybe first and foremost.

I think your souls know exactly how things work and how to manifest new things. It seems like currently the manifestations are coming from your heart.

Ok lol so the song that just came on the radio is the one by queen that goes can anybody find me somebody to lovee.

You guys don't have to physically do a damn thing. Whatever youve been wanting all of those things that are truly favorable for you are gone come in right after some type of ending that's happening to clear the way I feel. It seems like not only that but you're receiving different options , a lot of them, and they're going to almost snowball meaning more and more of this energy is gonna keep coming in which really hints to me this has been blocked for a while. Cause I'm getting the vision of water, like a small river building up until a dam breaks and it all coming through.

Group 6!

Uhh you guys rock. So for an example for you all to interpret into your own situations, say someone has been practicing guitar for the longest time and they're feeling a certain groove and they go and just rock the hell out. A lot of you are showcasing talents yall have. Others of you are just super in a rhythm you guys have had your fair share of bs it seems so if that's the case for you this is definitely true. Other people are also going to be supportive of you so say you go on a stage people are gonna rock with you. Or people around you will just reciprocate your energy. I'm thinking about when I'm in a happy mood and walk around outside a lot of strangers I see will have good fun conversations with me like they feel the same way! You guys are kinda giving off , can't nothing break your stride! Definitely roll with that.

Love you guys. Peace

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 9

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 2.7k

Warning: mention of extreme diet Also on AO3

You recognize his laugh now. Not the one recorded by the nosy photographers or the overstepping interviewers, but the real one. The way he leans his head to the side and his eyes turn into beautiful crescent moons. Those low chuckles as well, so carefree and sweet, resounding in your head and bringing you back to the hundreds of videos saved in your camera roll, the ones you have been watching for nights on end since you found that phone. 

It is difficult to decipher if the goosebumps raising in your skin come from the happiness the mere sound induces inside you, or the fear of realizing how deep you have been dragged into this nightmare. 

After landing in Belgium, Daniel’s first instinct had been to message you. An invite out for dinner which he admitted was long overdue. Two months had already gone by since you fainted in Austria —or better said, the day you woke up surrounded by a whole Formula 1 team in an unknow place—, two months since he fought with Nick in the middle of the track and promised to ‘talk later’. Two months.  

Safe to say you were surprised enough to ignore the hundreds of messages higher on the chat. It’s better to take in this kind of news one by one. 

“My friend said the steak tartare was amazing, you should have a look at it” Daniel offers when you lower your eyes to the menu, skimming over the dishes as if that could help you ignore the tingling on your stomach  

Pursing your lips, you finally focus your gaze on the words written before you. “I don’t know if…” you begin to show your doubts about the raw dish, trying to locate it on the menu among the rest of unrecognizable food names. 

Daniel can see the exact second you find it.  

“Don’t you dare look at the price,” the driver threatens when your eyes widen at the quantity, eyebrows furrowed as you wonder if the meat is wrapped in gold or something “You’re not paying again, I’m telling you!” 

“What do you mean again?” you ask through a chuckle, scanning the rest of the menu for a more reasonable option. After all, it is always Daniel who shares his gummies and unhealthy treats when you're out on the track, not the other way around. It would have been impossible anyway, it’s only recently that you have acquired some form of payment. 

Daniel calls for the waiter after a shake of his head, a smirk falling of his lips “Yeah, sure, I’ll let you play dumb now... gave them my card already, so no use in sneaking to the bathroom and paying behind my back” 

To be fair, although you doubt you could have invited Daniel to more than a sip of coffee in the short time you’ve know him, those kinds of antics do ring a bell or two.  

After all, you may have picked them up from the best at that game: your father.  

On your time away from home, you have found yourself holding onto this little pieces of your family which have so easily become a part of your personality over the years. Your father’s silent gestures of love, your mother’s caring nature, and overall the love they had for you. Honestly, being unable to talk to them had taken a toll on you. Probably, that is why you had melted into a poodle of tears when you heard your dad’s voice on the phone. 

“¿A ti te parece normal estar dos meses sin llamar a tus padres? (Does it seem normal to you to go two months without calling your parents?) "

Even hearing his scoldings felt like the most precious moment of your life. 

Charles had come crashing into the room as soon as he heard your cries, kneeling beside you on the floor thinking you might have hurt yourself with how fast you had run away from the entrance. His concerned look rapidly turning into one of confusion when you firmly held his hand and whispered between sobs “It’s my dad!” 

A reality check so sudden that it took your breath away. 

The discovery of this new device had not only opened a channel of communication with your family, which had both been a blessing and a curse, but also brough an infinity of unanswered questions. A whole new part of this life.

Although the first few minutes of your conversation had been centered around your mother’s question about your wellbeing and if you had been eating well, it had not taken long until that precious moment was broken. After checking that you had been doing alright and apologizing for not talking to them, your father could not hold it any longer and started gushing about the amazing few races you had had before the break. 

When you finally found your voice again, you had cut the conversation short with promises to call them soon —even if the mere thought of it made you nauseous. 

In that moment, their happiness and eagerness to congratulate you on the highest place of your career, had managed to sober you up completely. You heart sinking with every compliment they threw at you, their desire to see you climb up in the sport, to see you win one day.

“It will come” your mother says, as if any of this was real. As if they were real.  

This encounter only renewed your desire to break free from what had become you own personal prison, and that device was a new key for your escape. While the phone you had been carrying since the start of this journey only had a couple numbers from the team members saved on it, this one was filled to the brim with messages, photos,... a whole life encased in such a small object. Your life? 

And somehow a main character in a large part of them was the man in front of you. 

“You sure you don’t want to taste it?” Daniel queries with a half-smile, having clearly caught the way your eyes followed the delicious looking cake as the waiter placed it on the table 

The colors rise to your cheeks in shyness, looking to the side while you jokingly sigh “Daniel, I won’t fit in the car if I keep eating...” 

“You’ll drive mine then” he quickly resolves, taking a huge piece of the treat and offering the spoon to you. Honestly, you had swapped the list of amazingly sounding desserts for a simple tea because you felt too full to even think of eating anything else, but a spoonful of cake can’t hurt, right? “Have to wear the McLaren suit though” 

Although you do it unconsciously, the look you give Daniel over the mouthful of cake, tells him everything he needs to know regarding your opinion on the bright orange race suit. The driver lets out a loud laugh, putting on his disbelieving facade as if that hadn’t been his intention in the first place. 

“So nice hearing you criticize my team’s color, really, I don’t know why we stopped having lunch together. Yeah, not a clue...” Daniel scoffs, digging into his plate to drown his fabricated sorrows. So dramatic. 

“I didn’t even talk!” you quip back to his amusement, just now having managed to get through the enormous bite of cake. Daniel only response is a disapproving shake of his head, and you let him have this one as you stir your tea. You are more interested in the second part of his grumbles “Why did we stop though?” 

“Don’t know... I guess with the whole start of the season, new team and everything” Daniel relays with a frown, gesturing to the air as if to explain that life had gotten in between what seemed to be a tradition the two of you had. “And also, that fucking diet...” the driver snickers with a roll of his eyes, having thrown that last jab as joke to lighten up the mood after such serious turn of the conversation.  

However, a soon as your eyes meet, he knows it’s been a misstep —even if it is just a coincidence that what he thinks is your how dare you say that? look is more of a what diet are you talking about? Look. 

“Sorry, ‘shouldn't have said that” Daniel apologizes straight away, leaning back into his seat with a sigh and the last piece of the cake. The time it takes him to munch on the treat is enough for him to debate whether or not he should make his opinion on such an important cmatter. Finally, he opts for a more conservative approach “It’s just... you already know what I think about it. Nick too” 

The mention of your Formula One trainer’s name makes all the alarms go off in your head, more so when the last time you saw them together, they were having a pretty heated conversation in the middle of a Grand Prix “Is that why you fought with Nick?”  

You try to appear outwardly calm about the situation, swirling what’s left of your tea as if your hands weren’t trembling in anticipation. This is it, at last, some real information. Not some meaningless clues which do nothing but mess with your poorly constructed theories.  

Your grandmother’s necklace burns against your chest, the feeling grounding you against all the thoughts brimming on your head. After all, the piece of jewelry is still the only fragment of an ever-distant reality, one you have kept safe and close to your heart ever since you found. You rest your hand over the pendant, sensing the heat even through the fabric of your blouse, as you wait for the response. 

He brushes a hand over his curls, looking everywhere but at you. “Yeah, kind of... I mean,” he accepts, clicking his tongue and taking in a big breath, as if he couldn’t bring himself to say it plain and clear. Daniel takes a second to reorganize his thoughts, straightening up in his chair and leaning his arms over the table in deep thought. However, when you think he’s managed to make up his mind and talk, the only words that come out his lips are “Look, we shouldn't talk about this now” 

A frown instantly forms on your expression at the premise, jaw set as you prepare yourself to most likely yell at Daniel everything that’s been on your mind thorough your time trapped here —whatever here means. You were finally going to clear one of the millions of unknowns surrounding this dream or whatever this is, and the man has the audacity to want to leave this incredibly important conversation for later. Oh, hell no. 

“No, listen” Daniel tries to settle your worries, having perfectly recognized the signs of what was about to come for him, from the slight closing of you hand over the table to the uncredulous grin lightly lifting the side of your lips “We’ll talk in the ride back to the track. C’mon, I’ll drive you” 

The soft sound of the radio fills the silence on the way out of the parking, a ballad which does absolutely not fit the speed at what your mind is running. Daniel can probably feel the weight of your stare, trying to let him have some space since it seems to be a sensitive topic for him, but so eager to learn what transpired between the two of them.   

The driver decides to preface his explanation with a “Don't get mad at me, okay?”, a strained smile pulling at his lips. For starters, that sentence does sound familiar. “I know I should stay out of it, and I think... well, no, I know! I know you’ve been really stressed out lately, that everything’s different now and all of that. I mean, they won't shut up about the fucking ‘second year in F1’ or whatever”  

Daniel tries to check your reaction out of the corner of his eye, his thoughts, although disorganized, always careful of your feelings. Yet, you can only regard him with a confused look.  

“What I’m trying to say is... I think you’ve been pushing yourself too hard” the driver lets out, the words flowing out of him like they have been weighting him for too long. His urge to explain his intentions straight away, showing how much of a push back he was expecting from your part "Again, I’m not trying to start an argument, I’m just worried about you! I’ve seen you training, seen that diet... this is not good for you”  

You’ve kept your eyes in the road in front thorough the conversation, taking in how concerned he has been about you. You had never seen this side of Daniel, he has always seen friendly and eager to help whenever you needed, but nothing had ever seen this deep. Still, you don’t understand what any of this has to do with his fight with Nick. 

“I understand that...” you acknowledge his worries, making a mental note to check everything he said later. In the time you had spent following this professional motorsport driver schedule, none of it had seemed as harsh to you as he had mentioned. Maybe something changed? Why though? “So, Nick and you talked about that? Is that it?” 

“Well, yes, Nick and I kind of had a... disagreement, yeah, we can call it that. About this new training plan you had going on. We had already talked about it like, back in Canada, and obviously nothing came out of it. But after Austria...” Daniel lets a second go while he enters the road, a harder grip on the steering wheel than needed. “Listen, I know we haven’t talked about it at all, I don’t know if you and Nick did?” 

You almost want to laugh at the supposition, your trainer had shut down any attempts of talking about it the day after the incident, so you had eventually given up “No, nothing” 

“I didn’t want to pressure you into talking about it but... We got really scared that day. I went to celebrate your qualy and, suddenly, you started panicking and freaking out! I didn’t know what to do, and then you fell unconscious. Do you remember any of it?” the driver wonders, his voice showcasing the whirlwind of emotions he went through despite the fact that he might be giving you a diluted version of what went down. You can only nod at him, the memories fresh on your mind “When they took you to the hospital, I thought, they for sure won’t let her race tomorrow, right? And then I see you on the track, all dressed up again, I couldn’t believe it...”  

“Didn’t Nick say he sent you a text?” you try to fill in, fingers fiddling with your own phone. Two months might have passed, but the images of that day keep replaying in your mind every single night. 

Daniel clicks his tongue in disbelief, eyes still focused on the road “Yes, he sent me two fucking lines saying the doctor discharged you, that you were fine and that’s literally it. You can take my phone and see it for yourself! I kept blowing up his phone but that’s the only thing he would say: exhaustion, she’s alright” 

That would explain the way Daniel approached you in Austria, how furious he had been with Nick after the secrecy with which the incident had been treated. The first thing he asked you that day was if you were alright, after the pre-race activities had finished and as away from the public as he could knowing you were in the middle of a Grand Prix. That is why he pounced at Nick when he mentioned the exhaustion diagnosis, fed up with the discourse. The distrust he had in your trainer’s statement clear in his words.  

Yet another thread to be pulled. 

Next Chapter

Author's note: Hey, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It's been a while! My masters is clearly kicking my ass and I didn't have a single second to write, but here it is. Thank you all so much for reading, any kind of interaction is greatly appreciated!

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub @darleneslane @therealcap @aespie

[amazinglyashy]

Frostbite - Prologue [Ch. 1]

Read on Ao3 Pairings: Foreseer Zayne x Reader Summary: In the Creatio Protocore, you would find an extension on the life you had all but given up on until recently. In you, the Foreseer would find a life worth living for once in his immortality. And together, you would find just how lovely and just how cruel fate could be. Tags: N/SFW, Hurt/Comfort. Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Canon Divergence, Abuse, Domestic Violence, Chronic Illness Notes: A slightly divergent retelling of Zayne's time as Foreseer and the myths and memories that flow with it. Chapters uploaded as frequently as I can. Chapter wordcount: 1,445

Prologue - You

Freezing- that would be a good word to use to describe how you were feeling right now. It was the dead of winter, with the wind howling as it bit across the rose color of your cheeks, making you wonder how long it would be before you became a frozen icicle yourself, much akin to the ones hanging down low from the trees. The nature around you was breathtakingly beautiful, you wouldn’t deny that- the trees nearly black in color from the wet of their wood in the snow coating them, the stark contrast of black and white mixed with the pale blue of ice taking form along the branches- if you had more time, you would stop and enjoy it. Maybe start a fire to add some warm oranges and red to the canvas before you while you admired the view. But you didn’t have such time, nor luxury at this moment. 

You couldn’t tell if the ground beneath you feeling like a glacier was a bad omen or not. In most cases, the danger of slipping on the tightly packed snow would be at the forefront of your mind, but right now, it was a comforting sign that the road you were traversing was commonly used. It meant if you got stuck up here, you could find help fairly easily, possibly even before freezing to death. 

Well, until you had to fork away from the main road and take a much less common way to get to your destination. 

The route you were currently using was one that branched off several times in its length, commonly leading to local villages or nearby cities for tradesmen and artisan to go and sell their wares. Farmers would also utilize the main roadway when transporting livestock or their crops in imposing wagons, though their wheels would have much difficulty on the ice and sleet that had formed since autumn had turned to winter. Their trips were far and fewer in between, but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist until spring. 

You had the lingering thought of hopefully passing a hunter somewhere along your route. You had brought some coin just in case, hoping to talk them out of a catch they may have on hand in exchange, so that you could have a bite to eat later once you were making the trip back down the mountain, huddled around a makeshift fire as you waited out the evening. 

That would be to say, if you were able to make it back down the mountain at all.

Quietly, as if on instinct, you reached up to clutch your chest as you felt a slight tendril of pain throb across your bosom. You needed to be careful, and pick up the pace. The frozen wind howling around you was dangerous for your condition, and you didn’t need to experience an aggressive flare up in the middle of an unforgiving mountain. Not when you were this close to a possible salvation. 

The area ahead of you cleared, and you could see an olden wood sign with markers and text burnt into the grain, covered in snow, but clean enough to read. You approached the gray wood that complimented the white contrast of snow surrounding it, making out a few small, nearby villages whose names you recognized from day trips the summers before now. The roadway you were on split off into three different directions, snaking to locations nearby and further away. Two of the options had paths similar to the one you had just come from- packed down snow slick with footsteps and wheel markings, the travel route being utilized faster than fresh snowfall could cover it. It was alright to walk in, with nails cobbled into the soles of your shoes to prevent a fall. Both paths promised common traffic. But the third option was quite the opposite. 

It was nearly completely powder, only packed down from more snow landing down on top of it. It looked more akin to a small, sudden cliff rising above the other pathways, like a two-foot tall wall challenging you to dare take a step onto it, not knowing if what lie beneath it was solid ground, or covered underbrush. 

Obviously, it was the one you were meant to take.

Of course, the state it’s in makes perfect sense , you thought to yourself, stepping forward to begin carefully trekking the thick climate. After all, when was the last time an official royal envoy had been sent to the Tower of Thorns anyway? Most people didn’t make it a daily habit to go and see the Foreseer. The fear of angering him or the god Astra Himself usually too much for most to bear, even in exchange for the possibility of finding out a future prophecy that greedily pertained to themselves. And the ones who didn’t fear the concept were simply too stupid to have fear of the godly and divine in the first place. You had definitely heard talk in the taverns, wild men drunk on too much ale, spilling their tales and woe about friends or cohorts going missing after a brazen trip to the tower in the mountain. Usually, it was someone who had been down on their luck, searching for a prophecy that promised better fortune in the near future. But occasionally, it was someone who wanted to grasp one of the Foreseer’s many treasures, the coin fetched for such items would be immense enough to live on for years to come, simply because of his divine name. 

That very same tavern talk was what had led you to this very moment- trudging your way as the stony spire slowly came into view, your lungs burning with every freezing breath you took. 

Yes, those who didn’t fear the Foreseer or Astra were out of their right minds, and the ones who even humored the thought of stealing something holy for their own benefit were even worse. But you were finding it harder and harder to mock them, even simply in the depths of your own mind, due to what was bringing you here today.

The Creatio Protocore. 

It was a divine relic, supposedly nestled in the center of the scepter the Foreseer used in most of his magics, knots of wood and metal curling around it as it hovered in place. It could reign destruction- leveling parts of the mountain, taking lives without an ounce of mercy from the wielder, Astra’s cruel sword and emissary, and freezing to death anyone who may speak out of line. But there were two sides to this coin- with the Creatio Protocore also capable of more than simple miracles. It could bestow life upon rot, and will tranquility on the lands surrounding. Both sides were tales you had been told, sure, but you knew the words bore some weight. You had read the scripture from the royals before and their envoys, and how the Foreseer would act when they were in his presence. 

The Creatio Protocore would be able to cure you- the ailment that scarred deeply across your chest- you just knew it. 

Not much was known about Cryoarsis, except that there were no known cures nestled among the browned, stained pages that spoke of the few known cases. And when you said few, you meant few. The amount of known cases could be counted on both hands, and missing a few fingers at that. The cases happened so infrequently, the information that spoke of the disease could be considered even rarer than the disease itself. Your deductions had found that the only possible cure would be nothing short of divine intervention. A rare miracle bestowed upon you by the gods themselves. A rare miracle taking shape, could be considered the Creatio Protocore, the main source of power for the Foreseer, and a blessing from Astra in physical form. 

So, blindly- on the basis of some tavern banter you had heard a few weeks ago and the writings you had read up on after- you were lifting your knees to your chest as you trudged your way up the last length of the mountainside you would need to reach the Tower of Thorns. The human will to live was a mighty thing, you were finding. And you knew yours was mightier than most. It hadn’t always been, but recent events transpiring had done well to change your mind, and now your only goal was to find- and take- the Creatio Protocore to cure your Cryoarsis. Even if it killed you.

Besides, you would die anyway without it. What did you have to lose, trying to go toe to toe with a demigod?