#so eventually i was going to end up here let's be real

[22ayla21]

Heya! can i request?

Amphoreus men’s wife (separate) had a playful banter with their husband in their room, and after some jokes they ended up chasing each other as she tried to throw so many pillows towards her husband, and their child peaking from the door lmfao 🤣🤣

Pillow Fight

A normal evening of jokes turned into a pillow fight. The children's reactions are more than eloquent.

It all started with the usual teasing before bed. Mydei chuckled, his wife said something sarcastic in response, he narrowed his eyes slyly... And a second later a pillow flew straight at his head.

Of course, he didn't remain in debt. Jumping up, he threw a pillow back, but his wife dodged and ran away laughing. A real hunt began.

His wife tried to hide behind the bed, but Mydei went around her side. As a result, the room turned into a battlefield: feathers flew in the air, bed linen ended up on the floor, and laughter echoed throughout the house.

The children heard the noise and cautiously peeked out from behind the door. They expected to see anything - conversations, serious business... But not their parents chasing each other like children.

While the eldest son and youngest daughter didn't understand what was going on, the middle one, infected by the atmosphere, rushed into the fight with a squeal, grabbing the biggest pillow and slamming it into his father's back.

The eldest son folded his arms across his chest, watching this circus with an expression of "I didn't sign up for parents like these." The youngest daughter simply sat down next to him, looking bewildered as her mother victoriously straddled her father, holding two pillows in her hands like trophies.

Eventually, it turned into a family pillow fight, where the children could no longer resist and got into a fight. The result: the whole house in feathers, tired but happy parents and children who are still in shock from what kind of parents they have.

It all starts with a simple joke. Maybe he makes a caustic remark about her habits, and she responds in kind. The exchange turns into a playful exchange. She laughs, playfully hitting him with a pillow - and of course he doesn't leave it unanswered.

Within a few minutes, their bedroom turns into a battlefield: pillows are flying in all directions, feathers are swirling in the air. She deftly dodges, but he is a strategist, and so he drives her into a corner. She pretends to give in, but then suddenly jumps on him and attacks again.

Laughter fills the house, and it is at this moment that their children appear in the doorway. They stand there in complete bewilderment: their parents, usually so reasonable and serious, are now behaving like children.

The eldest daughter, frowning, asks: "What's going on here?" The middle sister shrugs, more concerned with who will ultimately win. The youngest son is simply beaming with delight - for the first time he sees mom and dad having such carefree fun together.

They watch the chaos for a few more seconds, then the eldest daughter says: "I didn't see anything, you didn't see anything. Let's go to bed." The middle sister nods in agreement, but before leaving, she whispers to her younger brother: "Daddy will definitely lose in the end."

Their parents, finally noticing the children, stop, exchange glances - and immediately start laughing. In the end, the mother sends her husband out to clean up, and puts the children to bed herself, promising that "tomorrow they will again behave like adults." Although the youngest son is not at all happy about this.

In the evening, after the children had fallen asleep, Phainon and his wife relaxed in the bedroom. The calm atmosphere gave way to playful banter. At first, it all started with light teasing and jokes, but gradually the tension went away, and everyone began to look for a reason to have fun.

At some point, his wife threw a pillow, as if by accident, and it almost hit him. Phainon grinned, grabbed the pillow and responded in kind. Thus began a real pillow war. Laughter, quick movements, funny pirouettes in the air, and now they are running around the room, trying to hit each other.

The sons, having entered the room for a couple of minutes, were completely perplexed, watching their parents. They looked at everything that was happening with surprise and incomprehension. The children were accustomed to the calm atmosphere of the house, but what they saw definitely shocked them.

After a few minutes of playing, they stopped, breathing heavily, trying to recover from the laughter and adrenaline. The children, standing on the threshold, quietly looked at each other and silently left, not understanding how all this squeezed into their idea of how adults should behave.

That same night, when they went to bed, one of the sons casually said:

- Mom, Dad, are you sure you're adults? You shouldn't be running around the house like that.

The wife barely held back her laughter, and Phainon only winked, realizing that their behavior would be discussed for a long time in the family, but this was, in fact, only part of their relationship - cheerful and sincere.

[halfway-happyyy]

quick lil drabble about the aftermath of a fight with frank.

that's the problem with you frank! you can't sit still. you crave violence, and i'm left here wondering when it's going to end. is it going to end with you six feet under?

your apartment is so silent in the morning that you're sure if you strain hard enough, the sounds of the clamorous fight you had the night before can still be heard. the walls don't talk, but they hold secrets and words that were never meant to see the light of day. when he eventually had enough, he opted for the couch before you could lay claim to it, and that was just his way. he was mad as hell, but he still wanted you to have the comfort of your room. and despite knowing he never came to bed, when you wake in the middle of the night your hand instinctively reaches out for his, but comes up despairingly empty. yeah, the fight had been a bad one. all sharp teeth and even sharper words, but at the bottom of it all, you just miss your person.

a note on the kitchen counter written in his scrawl tells you he's out, but not when he'll be back.

stepping into your bathroom, you survey yourself in the low dawn light and sigh. beneath your swollen eyes, sit a pair of cheeks that bear the brunt of the mascara you cried off. though it won't remedy everything, you reckon the best place to start getting back to yourself is under the torrent of near-scalding water. your thoughts are so loud that you don't hear the creak of the bathroom door, or the sound of his clothing as it pools by his feet on the floor, but you feel the sudden draft and you sense frank's presence. your eyes open to the sight of him at the other end of the shower, entirely naked save for the ring around his neck. the fresh cuts and bruises that decorate his chest like a warzone stand out starkly in the indigo morning light, and you find yourself enamored by the measured rise and fall of his chest- so different than the night before. your gaze finally meets his, and you regard each other with an intensity that feels all-consuming.

if this is where all of that is leading, i can't keep doing it, frank.

"i'm so sorry, frank."

the words echo in your head, causing a wave of nausea to wash over you, and just when you feel the familiar prickle of tears behind your eyes, frank pushes himself from the wall to take you in his arms. he holds you so tightly that you can feel the subtle beat of his heart against your bare chest, and it only takes a minute or two before your own heartbeat becomes synchronized with his.

"you feel that, kid?" he rasps.

you nod against him.

"that's real. what we have is real, and it's rare, and i wouldn't give it up for the world. do you hear me?"

again, you nod, but it's not enough for him.

"i need to hear you say it."

you pull your head away from the solace of his neck to face him fully. "i hear you, frank."

he sighs in response and taps your hip. "good. now turn around, and let me wash your hair, hm?"

[mirixmoya]

my initial first-read thoughts for SOTR PART I: THE BIRTHDAY obviously there will be MAJOR SPOILERS under the cut but i hope u enjoy :)

chapter 01;

laundress Mrs. Abernathy i knew u were real. i felt u in my soul

“woah, a promotion!” he’s such a dick (affectionate)

i know white liquor has been mentioned in previous books but i find its’ emphasis here as a part of district 12 culture (especially for the labouring class) to be really interesting. it feel analogous to the rise of drinking culture amongst working-class britons amid the industrial revolution.

“I’m not much of a drinker myself,” suzanne im gonna kms

lenore dove having a fancy for colourful things... there are haydove / hayffie parallels everywhere for those with the eyes to see

the change in the Covey culture between tbosas and sotr feels very poignant

i predicted hair ribbon lenore dove idc

haymitch thinking clerk carmine hates love only to find out the man is secretly in a long-term relationship for fear of persecution... don't u worry baby that's gonna be u in a couple decades.

i am also taking credit for predicting pocketknife haymitch

another M name for maysilee's sister... i'm basically a prophet

"you two didn't have to dress up for me" he's a comedian ladies and gentlemen

AN ESCORT!!!!!!

haymitch not being the original draw... suzanne do u want me dead.

chapter 02;

i find haymitch's reluctance to act when faced with things he knows are wrong to be really interesting, especially compared to lenore dove's insistence on action. it's something that sets them apart from one another, whereas i've always felt the hesitation to act was something that haymitch and effie had in common.

parallels between haymitch putting himself between lenore dove and the peacekeeper vs. haymitch putting himself between katniss and the peacekeeper... that's sick.

plutarch appearance? these two divas and their generational beef.

"or some extra-horrible snappy way to die" literally the worst thing in the world is happening and this boy is doing his tight ten standup.

i think drusilla vs. effie could be an interesting study in the de-escalation of the escort role. drusilla's persona is overtly and pointedly hostile compared to effie's put-on benevolence.

"the Capitol rigs the reaping!" gang we may have lost the battle (online discourse) but we have won the war (canon material)

"Not from her and not from me" haydove is absolute gas and i knew it would be

bruise-knuckled haymitch i loved u first

chapter 03;

“will she be able to make ends meet without my wages from hattie? she will, or she’ll die trying.” Mrs. Abernathy i love u so much.

him mourning the life he should have had… my shayla.

haymitch’s resentment for uptight frilly spoiled maysilee… haymitch eventually coming around to maysilee by way of forced proximity and circumstance. haymitch’s resentment for uptight frilly spoiled effie… haymitch eventually coming around to effie by way of forced proximity and circumstance. interesting.

Lucy Gray mention who else cried

putting money on mags being the twelve mentor rn

i know drusilla is the bad guy here but unfortunately i am predisposed to have a latent affection for snobby escorts “Daylight is murder!” is soooo effie.

chapter 04;

haymitch thinking about that cake the same way katniss thought about the chicken with oranges in thg that's my fatherdaughter duo

"don't let them paint their posters with your blood" okayyy mr. abernathy the poet

maysilee donner diva of all time i knew i would love her

i also like that the luxuries given to the tributes is a slow build up from snow taking power rather than going straight to the level of luxury we see in the og series. it feels indicative of the capitol's need to continuously justify the taking of tributes. the hunger games is not stagnant, it is a machine that is constantly in motion, constantly building upon itself lest it fall. it's interesting.

chapter 05;

"seems the capitol has to convince its own citizens, too" and y'all KNOW i love that shit.

something something haymitch's first token from lenore being a fire starter something something haymitch's second token from effie being patterned with fire

"i need to take a piss" olivia wilde nodding gif that's MY haymitch

haymitch judging the crowd for being drunk made me insanely sad like omg he doesn't even know what's coming...

chapter 06;

haymitch rearranging louella's braids and wiping the blood from her face... he's just a baby boy ur honour

"our eyes meet, and a smile plays on his lips. no anger, no outrage, and certainly no fear. i have not impressed him with my performance." suzanne im literally shitting bricks don't scare me like this.

them calling eachother Miss Donner and Mr. Abernathy... haysilee u ate that one lil thing i will not lie

WIRESS APPEARANCE I CHEERED!!!!

i would literally bet money on wiress being the one to teach haymitch how to spot the forcefield just like she did with katniss... my tethered fatherdaughter

MAGS!!! MY DIVA!!!

chapter 07;

"and while lenore dove will forever be my true love," i need every hayffie fan who freaked out at that line to relax, take a deep breath, and to never take a 16-year-old's word on love at face value.

haymitch having very realistic / literal dreams means haymitch having very realistic / literal nightmares for the rest of his life :(

"nice outfit" the world could literally be ending and this man would still be doing his standup.

"the arena's just a machine really. a killing machine" banger.

maysilee giving very Eyes Bright, Chins Up, Smiles On in this moment i have no choice but to stan

miss suzanne introducing the children to the idea that the Labouring Many will always outnumber the Owning Few and that it isn't for the Few to rule over the Many everyone say thank u suzanne

chapter 08;

plutarch and haymitch having a decades long beef might be the best lore drop of this book

why is plutarch that trust fund kid in ur first year polisci class who read marx once but has literally never had a conversation with anyone who went to high school next to a corn field.

his stressed out ass tryna get maysilee and wyatt's act together... welcome back Mentor Haymitch!

BEETEE APPEARANCE!!!!

beetee's son is gonna die :(((((

chapter 09;

"i don't drink" my babyyy my baby ur my baby

haymitch calling The Raven lenore dove's poem... baby that is Sir Edgar Allen Poe u are quoting rn.

snow being visibly unwell during the 50th i know his ass was RANCID by the 74th.

also also snow being a miserable old cotcher about the fact that he lost a bad bitch like fourty years ago damn take a hike peepaw.

ANYWAY some intelligent thoughts, mostly unintelligent rambling. i hope u enjoyed all the same! i'm so so excited to continue reading tomorrow and get back to y'all with more thoughts :)

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter XIII: A Light that Flickers In and Out

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | read bee's diary

songs: snap out of it by arctic monkeys, the real by narrow head

summary: You confide the events of the day to your trusted confidant, and come to a few more supposed realizations

chapter tags: mentions of blood (Eddie is dumb and hurts himself), swearing | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

disclaimer: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. THIS WORK IS BEING REPOSTED TO MY NEW AO3! Feel free to check it out! Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. I am satiated by reblogs and comments, so please! Interact with my work! It motivates me to write more, and it helps to know someone out there is reading.

taglist (open!): @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r

--

Eddie drops you off a whole hour before your shift. When you get into the break room, Kevin, the lead bartender,  and your mom are in the office across the hall.��

“Hey, Bee!” Kevin greets you. He’s an older guy, with heavily tattooed, strong arms and a healthy black mustache. You’d had a huge crush on him growing up, always seeing him here when your mom would have to bring you to work because she couldn’t find a babysitter. 

“Hi, Kev. Slow night?”

He nods, tossing his rag over his shoulder. “Yeah, I was trying to convince your mom to let me leave a little early. Lily’s got dance class tonight and her mom’s been sick.”

“Well, now that your coverage is here, I guess you can go.”

“Thank you, ma’am. See ya, Bee!” He waves to you before exiting the office. 

“Bye!” You swipe your punch card, officially clocking in, and run to change the music before entering the back office. You decide on a more upbeat playlist, not wanting to depress your customers into leaving shitty tips.

“Mom, you hanging out tonight? Or am I closing up alone?” You’re fine with either, but a gossip session with your mom is a little overdue. You drop down into the chair next to hers. 

“I’m here all night, babes.” She collects her mess of papers into a neatish pile. Why, what’s up?”

You sigh, plopping down next to her in the old office chair, the fake leather peeling up on the arms. You pick at it while she fiddles around on the computer, probably filling out payroll. 

“That exciting, huh?”

“Well,” You hesitate, picking at the fabric, thinking of how to put your earlier experience into words. “Just, a lot on my mind I guess.”

Your mom clicks to minimize the screen, and turns her chair to face you. “What’s wrong, Beeb?”

You pick at the skin around your thumbnail as you think about your response. Your mother swats at you, having always hated the habit. “I hung out with Eddie today.” You finally rush out, your eyes still glued to the floor.

Your mother’s face morphs from an expression of concern to one of surprise. “Like, by choice?”

You exhale, stifling a laugh at her dig. “Yeah, actually. I initiated it and everything.”

“Okay… I am failing to understand the problem so far.”

“It was going really well at first! I bumped into him at the record store downtown, he ended up buying my vinyl. Then we went to this antique store, and I found the perfect dress for my costume. He took one look at me and started acting… bizarre.”

“Define bizarre.”

“He could barely look at me when I asked what he thought of it. And, he bolted out of there like he’d left the stove on. Just, all of a sudden. Wouldn’t talk to me the entire ride back to my car, barely said goodbye.” You collapse into the barstool, resting your head in your hands like a frustrated teenager. “He’s so fucking frustrating!” You muffle the words into your palms, shaking your head as you speak.

Under your voice, you can hear your mother laughing at you. Not quietly, either, but a full on, obnoxious cackle. “Mom!”

“I’m sorry, sweetie!” She barely gets the words out between fits of giggles. “I just, I can’t believe you haven’t figured it out!”

You squish your lips together into a thin line, sneering through your nostrils as you let your mother catch her breath. “Figured what out, Mother?”

“Hey,” She’s finally ceased her hysterics. “Don’t ‘mother’ me. I’m just kidding around, Bee.”

“I need you to be serious for, like, two minutes. Please. What are you talking about?”

“I am talking about the fact that that boy has been head over heels in love with you for about twelve years now. He hasn’t been that quiet about it, either.” You look at her for more signs of laughter, hoping she’ll crack any minute. She doesn’t. 

“Mom, do I need to remind you what he did to our family?” 

“I thought you figured all of that out?”

 You can’t stop your jaw from dropping. “You knew?! For how long?!” 

“Since the day they arrested them, Bee. I thought you did too! Well, until Chris told me he never actually told you, and that he was waiting for Eddie to do it.” You’re at a loss for words, so she keeps talking. “He did tell you finally, right? Chris called me after you talked to him.”

That sends you into a rage. “Oh my god! Do you people ever just, I dunno, talk to me?! I’m not a child anymore, mom. I can know things! You all seem to tiptoe around me like I’m that same sensitive kid. It’s fucking disrespectful.” Your face feels hot, and the few patrons in the bar have been sending the two of you curious glances, or annoyed glares. “I can’t believe you knew. How am I supposed to trust anyone if I can’t even get the truth from my own mother?”

Your mom doesn’t interrupt, to her credit. When you finally finish, hot tears leak quickly, sliding down your cheeks before you angrily swat them away. 

“I know, Bee. I should have told you sooner. I thought I was protecting you.” Her voice is soft, barely above a whisper but you still hear it crack. “If I could go back and make myself tell you, I would in a heartbeat. But I’m here now. That’s all I can do, is be here for you.”

You wait a beat, gathering your strength to look up at her. “You need to promise me, right now, that you won’t ever keep something like this from me again. I’m twenty four. I can handle hard truths. And if I can’t, I need to learn how.”

She nods solemnly, extending her pinky to you. “I promise.”

You link your own pinky with hers, and you both lean in to kiss your hands. “Thanks, Mama.”

–

“Vodka tonic for you, and a Shirley for the lady.” You place the glasses on the bar, and the man hands you his card. “Wanna open a tab?” He nods, grunting before turning away, his date linking her arm through his. “Okay, fuck you too.” You mumble, turning back to the tablet where you keep track of tabs.

“Jack and coke, neat.” You don’t respond, or even turn around. “Please?” He adds, and you roll your eyes.

“Thought you had a shift.��� It had only been a couple hours, no way was he done working already. The time on your computer reads 5:50 PM, and you busy yourself with another customer’s drink instead.

“Boss let me leave early. Because, well, I’m the boss.” He snickers to himself, and his gaul makes you snap.

You turn to face him, slamming the glass down  on the bar in front of him, until the customer clears her throat, signaling you to give it to her. “Sorry. Enjoy!” You dare to look back at Eddie, who’s offering his card to you. “Open or closed?”

“For you? Open. Always.” He winks at you, and you have to fight yourself on whether to sucker punch him right in his smart ass mouth. Your conscience wins in the end. “Gross.” You quip instead, plucking his beat up debit card from his fingers. “So you bailed on me to go work for, what, two hours? That’s awesome to hear.” You stab the touch screen, adding his drink to the tab. Way to act unbothered, you scold yourself, turning back to begin making his drink. 

“No, I bailed because my pants were suffocating me after I saw you in that dress.” His words catch you the furthest off guard, sending the glass to the floor, glass skittering across the sticky wood. “Fuck.” You spit, yanking the broom and dustpan from the corner of the bar. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Me? You’re the one jumpin’ around like you committed a crime!” Before you can stop him, Eddie’s leaping over the bar, landing next to you and barely avoiding the glass. Customers are mumbling now, and you’re sure you’ll hear the long and short of it from your mom for this by the end of the night.

“You can’t be back here.” There’s no energy behind your scolding, Eddie won’t listen anyway. He’s bent over, plucking the glass shards off the floor one by one. “Ed, I have a broom. You’re gonna–”

“Shit!” Eddie jerks his hand back, causing him to bump his head on the bar counter. “Fuck!” His bloody hand flies to his head as you wince. 

“Jesus christ.” The words come from in front of you, and you look up to find former Chief of Hawkins Police Jim Hopper sliding into Eddie’s seat at the bar. “Hey, Miss L/n. Munson.” He nods once, removing his hat and placing it on the bar next to him. “Can I get a beer, when you have the chance?”

You nod, nervous suddenly. You have no reason to be, it’s not like you’ve committed any crimes lately, and it’s not like he has the authority to arrest you anyway. However, you’re never sure if you can say the same for the boy bleeding to your right. 

“Hey, big guy!” Eddie waves, the blood dripping from his hand staining his palm. “How’ve you been?” The man doesn’t indulge him, instead staring through him unblinking as Eddie squirms. “That good, huh?” He laughs and the sound is thin with nerves. “Well, I uh, I gotta um,” 

“Go get the first aid kit.” You interrupt. “I’ll be back to help you in a second.” 

“Right, okay.” Eddie practically trips over himself getting out of there. When he’s out of Hopper’s sight, you turn to him.

“What brings you here this time, Chief? Drunk and disorderly again?”

“Retired chief, ‘member? And nah, nothin’ like that this time. Keepin’ an eye on Munson is all.”

“Is this about the fight? That was, like, weeks ago at this point. No incidents since.” 

“No, ma’am, not about the scrap, that’s way below what my time’s worth nowadays.” He doesn’t elaborate, leaving you wondering what Eddie could have possibly done to get Hopper’s attention when he’s supposed to be drinking pina coladas out of coconuts in Miami or something. You don’t pry for answers, knowing you’d only regret it if he’d even decide to tell you.

“Okay, well. Speaking of Munson, I’m gonna go make sure he doesn’t bleed out in my bar.” He nods, a small smile playing on his lips as you scramble out of there, and into the back office.

“You alright?” You ask, opening the door to the tiny office, where Eddie is sitting in one of the metal folding chairs, hand sloppily wrapped in gauze. Eddie shrugs, offering his injured hand to you. “ ‘m okay, just awful at first aid apparently.”

You shake your head, letting an amused chuckle slip from your lips, and Eddie flushes as he looks at you. It’s disorienting. “What’re you lookin’ at?” You tease, plucking a fresh gauze pad and the bacitracin from the kit.

“You.” You think you hear him sigh as he says it. 

“Oh, shut up.”

“What? You asked!”

“Why are you being weird?” You spray the antibiotic into his wound and Eddie winces. “Sorry, probably shoulda warned you.”

“It’s fine. Fuck, I forgot how bad this shit stings.”

“Forgot? You haven’t wounded yourself enough recently?”

“Oh I’ve wounded myself plenty, I just don’t take care of them.”

You roll your eyes, tearing open the gauze. “You’re gonna get tetanus one of these days.”

He shrugs. “I’ve survived so far.”

“Barely.” You can’t stop the smirk when you say it, but he joins you when you start to laugh. “There ya go, good as new!” You rip a small piece of medical tape from the roll to secure his bandage in place. “I don’t think you need stitches, but you should probably keep it covered until it scabs over. Motor oil probably isn’t the best disinfectant.” 

“Thanks, Bee. I appreciate it.”

You nod in response, then ask, “Why is Hopper here?”

He shrugs. “Dunno, wasn’t me this time.”

“He says it was, actually.” 

That takes him aback. “What?”

“Said he was, ‘Keeping an eye on you’.” You say, fingers raised in air quotes. “Didn’t get the chance to ask, though.” 

“Well, let me do the honors!” Eddie is up, storming back into the bar before you can catch up, hair flying behind him. When he throws the door open, though, Hopper isn’t at the bar anymore. A crisp twenty dollar bill is sitting under his empty Budweiser bottle. “Well that’s not strange at all!” Eddie exclaims, sarcasm dripping from his tone. 

“What the hell.”

“Right? No way your service was good enough for a one hundred percent tip.” Eddie teases, but you’re too lost in your own head to bite back. 

–

“It just feels… weird.” You put the last of the glasses in the dish drainer while your mom finishes counting the drawer. “He didn’t even talk to Eddie.” Your mom doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “You know him and Joyce, right? Like, you guys go out for dinner and stuff.” She nods. “Do you have any idea why he would do something like that?”

“Honey,” She says it in that tone you hate, the one she uses when she doesn’t want to upset you. It never works. “I’m sure it isn’t anything you need to worry about.”

“I’m not worried, I’m confused! Curious, maybe. At most.” You don’t even sound convincing to yourself. 

“Why don’t you ask Eddie?”

You falter, blinking at her without a good enough response. “What if he doesn’t know?”

She shrugs. “Then you’ll have to let it be. Or go snooping to find out for yourself.” She laughs, but it’s not a half bad idea. “I’m kidding, Bee. Please don’t be getting yourself in trouble for that boy. You aren’t a teenager anymore, you have real consequences at stake.” 

“I won’t go snooping, mom.” Not if I don’t have to. “I just wanna make sure he’s not gonna get Chris dragged into his bullshit again.”

Your mother busies herself filling out the deposit slip, and you move around the bar to spray down the tables. “You sure you have no idea what it could be about? Not one guess?” You’re desperate for something to lead you in the right direction, desperate to stop the nagging in the back of your head that Eddie’s in trouble again. 

Your mother only shakes her head, and you have to believe her, knowing it will hurt both of you even worse if you don’t. “Okay.”

“Let’s get outta here, huh? You need a ride home?” Your mother shuts the overhead lights off before following you to the front door. You’re about to say yes, because Eddie had abandoned you here eight hours ago, when you catch sight of the van idling next to the curb. “Guess not. I’ll see you tomorrow, bug.” She wraps her arms tightly around your shoulders, and you squeeze around her middle. “Use protection, ‘kay?”

“Mom!” You try to let go but she holds you tighter, body wracked with laughter. “Sorry, sorry! I love you. Have a good night, baby.”

“Goodnight, Mama. Love you, too.” She frees you from her embrace and walks away, keys jingling in her grip. 

He’s leaning against the hood, cigarette dangling between his lips as smoke curls into the air above him. Even in the dark, you can make out the frizzy curls surrounding his head, untamed in the nighttime breeze. “Hey.” You approach him slowly, as if afraid of spooking him. “What are you still doing here?”

He shrugs, taking a drag of his cigarette before responding. “Figured I owed you a ride home after bailing earlier.” He offers the stick out to you, something you would normally refuse without hesitation. Tonight, though, you pluck the cigarette from his fingers and bring it to your lips, inhaling deeply. “What was that all about, Eds? Seriously. You’ve been so weird today.” 

“I can’t believe you aren’t, like, used to that yet.” He snatches his cigarette back. “You should be concerned when I stop acting weird.”

“Ugh, shut up. Even for you, you were weird. It’s like, I dunno, you’re intimidated by me or something.” You wince as the words leave your mouth. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, it’s okay,” He shakes his head, his curls flying around his head as he does. “I mean, I kind of am intimidated. I have a lot to make up for.”

“Like what?” Part of you knows you’re prodding, fishing for the Eddie you knew growing up; the sweet kid with the buzz cut and expansive metal t-shirt collection. 

“Like, I dunno, everything that happened in the last six years?”

“I feel like we keep having this discussion. Are we in a wormhole?”

He scoffs, shoving you playfully.“Because, dork,  I need to make it as clear as I can when I tell you how sorry I am.”

“Okay, Eddie. You’ve said that a few times now. You can relax,  you don’t owe me anything else.”

“Of course I do, Bee, and I’m gonna make sure you get all of it. Everything I kept from you, everything I messed up. Just give me some time, okay?”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, eyes squeezed shut in thought. “We have all the time in the world, dude. Just, stop being so cryptic, okay?”

He nods, finally loosening up as his lips twitch in amusement. “Okay, fine. Can I still give you a ride home?”

You look him in the eyes for the first time during this conversation, immediately feeling your knees wobble. “If you insist.”

He grins wildly, tossing his cigarette onto the concrete before practically skipping to the passenger door, opening it for you. “Milady.” You glare at him, bending into an exaggerated curtsy before hopping into the passenger seat. Eddie stumbles back to the driver’s door, yanking it open before throwing himself into the seat, making the van bounce slightly, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. It all feels so normal, but the words of your mother still play in the back of your brain: “That boy has been head over heels in love with you for about twelve years now.” From where you’re sitting, you can’t see what she does. You see someone desperate to make years of lost time without having any idea how. That’s all this is, it has to be. You don’t know what you’d do if it was more than that. 

“Where’d you go?” You jump at the sound of his voice, remembering where you are. 

“What?”

“You, like, zoned out. You okay?” You can feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of your head. 

“Yeah,” Your voice cracks unconvincingly, and you clear your throat to mask it. “I’m okay. Tired.”

He nods, thoughtful. You can’t help letting your eyes drift from your lap to where his hand is draped on top of the steering wheel, casual. He looks relaxed, leaned back in his seat as he drives without needing to think, thumb tapping to the beat of a song you vaguely recognize. Outside, the world is dark, the only source of light being his high beams on an otherwise pitch black back road surrounded by massive trees on either side. The whole world is asleep, except for the two of you. It’s peaceful, despite the buzzing in your chest.

It’s almost comfortable. 

Almost. 

[supern0vashii]

A River of Regrets

( A comic of Godbox!SMG3 & Nova possession origins. ) The scene was quite ugly. Blood and ichor splattered onto the concrete floors, and two beings collapsed and heaving for air on either side. One of them, SMG3, noticed a severe tear in the inside of his wing. He attempted to cover this, but winced at the feeling. He looked upon his opponent, her most eye-attracting qualities being her angel-like wings and her outfit, were dirtied with golden blood, and blood that wasn't hers.

Nova, the Concept of Creativity herself, held her gaze of disgust as she examined him the same way he examined her. Directly noting all of his weak points. She detested the piercing silence between the two. "Not so high and mighty now huh?" The Concept reveled in the fact that a vessel of the Godbox itself could be weakened by her. She thought he would last longer. "You little--" The sound of her voice alone irritated SMG3 to no end. He clenched his hands, attempting to get up, but his legs felt like gelatin. "--bitch." He finished, his voice tainted by the impact of falling back onto the hard ground. "You're pathetic." The Concept of Creativity spat, the smile in her voice dissipating. She struggled, but eventually managed to stand on her own two feet. Nova let out a degrading chuckle, picking up her staff from the rubble, and pressing the tip against the vessel's throat. SMG3 choked in response, his hands reaching for the base of the staff. "You should be the--" SMG3 gasped for air. "--last person talking about being pathetic. You think I don't know anything about you? Nova, you destroyed lives, killed millions, ended solar systems, you are pathetic." "An honest sinner 'till I die. Which is never." She responded, thrusting the tip of the staff into his throat, not enough to kill SMG3, but to cut off air circulation. "But, what's the harm if I don't mind? We had a deal, SMG3. You don't back away from a deal." The staff against his throat was now beginning to truly affect SMG3. He gasped for air again, yet he refused to ask for mercy. Nova hissed at his defiance, and reached in to grab SMG3 by the throat and hang him in the air like a lost sock. "You coward! You promised me power, and I'm not giving that up." She could feel the golden blood drip down her nose, and it drove her all the more insane. SMG3 couldn't even speak anymore, and out of unrecognized fear, reluctantly listened to what she said. He hesitantly reached down to Nova's gemstone on her chest, the star-shaped crystal that held her soul. SMG3's hand grazed the surface of the crystal before allowing himself to be swallowed by the emptiness that was Nova's body. After a few moments of terrifying silence, SMG3 found himself in his vessel's body. He felt an unyielding flow of a river slosh below his knees. Suddenly, the vessel corrupt SMG3 with a rush of memories that weren't his, but were Nova's. He saw a reflection in the star-shined river, and found himself in a ..celestial court.

The court’s silence was pierced by the sudden sound of a door opening. The judges eyes fixated on the intruder, the glass walls reflecting off of her decorative shining stars. She came in a rush, her facial expressions showing nothing but pure rage. Her teeth gritted, wings fluttered and fluffed up, and her hands begged to punch something. “What the hell?!” She shouted. The sound seemed to resonate throughout the room, the echo drowned by her heavy breathing. 

“What brings you here, Creativity?” A being questioned. 

“Don’t call me that– My name is Nova. And you know real well why I’m here!” The intruder continued to yell. “Why would you go through my personal space?! Do you have any idea what you’ve done, Reality?!” She huffed. 

Reality gave a quick answer. “What I’ve done? Do you know what you’ve done? You betrayed our moral code. You know that we Concepts do not get along with mortals.”

“You mean–.. Nevermind. Humans aren’t even that bad? Why don’t you get out of your protective little shell of yours and actually try to get along?! It’s practically your fault we’ve been at war with humans for eons!”

Reality lightly gripped the surface of the desk in vexation. “What war? The war that humans are foolish enough to think that we don’t exist?”

Nova could feel the rage burning up inside her. “Maybe it’s better to be human then whatever the hell we are!” Those words hung in the air, the rest of the council not knowing how to respond to such an insulting statement. The only sound in the court was Nova’s huffing, yet eventually even she realized the weight of her words. Nova’s eyes darted around the room, eyeing each and every other Concept there, waiting for something. A reaction, an eye twitch, something. “How dare you!” Another concept yelled, his hands gripping on his own desk. His teeth gritted against each other. “You are lucky that I, as a mother, as the Concept of Creation himself, have treated you so well! How dare you say something so vile towards your own creator!”

“Ugh, Mom! Now’s not the time!” Nova barked back. Her wings fluttered as she groaned. She refocused on her topic and continued. “This council has treated us Mixed-Concepts like toys for you to use! With all this, maybe being human doesn’t sound so bad.”

Reality tapped their fingers on the desk, a slight look of frustration could be seen, despite them being faceless. As the concept continued to think of solutions of how to find a resolution to the dispute, they had an idea. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” The concept questioned. “I could accomplish that, for a small price, of course.” Nova was taken aback. She did not expect such a request. Allowing this to happen could refute their claims that humans are simply just monsters. Yet, her pride as a concept would be shattered within an instant. She would feel.. pain. “..Do it. Make me human.” Nova demanded, her wings folded against her back. Despite the demand, she could feel herself getting uneasy. Her hands began to tremble, and her eyes flickered from concept to concept. She mumbled under her breath, immediately regretting her decision.

“Hey! You can’t just do that to one of my creations! I poured my heart and soul into that!” Creation snapped back. The two concepts then began to argue back and forth, their arguing filling the court with dispute.

Suddenly, the Concept of Destruction butted in. “You two! Stop arguing! You’re both major Concepts so act like it. Don’t be so foolish.” The two argumentative concepts stopped their bickering. They gave each other harsh looks, but didn’t say anything more. “If she wants to be human then let her. It’s her own choice. Plus, she’s the one suffering, not us.” The Concept of Reality chittered, letting out a low sigh. “Alright. It’s her choice.” The concept waved their hand magic twinkling through their fingers. Nova braced herself, expecting a plethora of weirdness. For a moment, she was confused, for she didn’t feel anything. Then, all of a sudden, she felt a jolt of pain throughout her body. Nova collapsed to the floor, letting out a soft cry. Glistening tears rolled down her star-freckled cheeks as the agony spread throughout her skin. She felt a thick liquid thrashing in her throat, threatening to spill out of her open mouth. The liquid spread throughout her body, and she concluded what the liquid could have been; blood. After what felt like eons, Nova’s suffering was no more. She vomited a gold liquid, which now resembled her blood. She could feel the aftermath of the pain, and it was such a strange sensation for someone who couldn’t feel anything. Her wings flicked. She didn’t look any different, but that was a stark contrast to the immense turmoil of discomfort and soreness she felt in her newly instituted stomach.

. . .

SMG3 was taken aback. He didn't expect anything like this. His lips, or rather, Nova's lips quivered. He blinked, and now the river was gone, and his own body was gone. He looked at what was supposed to be his hands, but now were white star-speckled pitch black claws and the red bonds that had haunted him for what felt like centuries. What had he gotten himself into?

( @grinnames for you cuz i left that piece of lore with no explanation 😋) ( @3nvymist cuz i know you'd die to read this ;-; ) I DID THIS WITHIN AN HOUR 💔💔💔💔

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Part 19: Eyelash

A March 2025 Hinny Microfic for @ginnystrophyhusband using Prompt 29

900 words (and a prize for the most tenuous use of a prompt ever)

All the March prompts that I write will be set in the same universe as, and form a prequel to, this fic.

Fair warning - it's going to be fluffy!

This little series has ended up with a lot more actual story than I expected, so if you'd like a bit more context to what's actually going on here, you might want to...

Read them all from the beginning on AO3

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

The following day, Harry has an early shift, so he’s already gone by the time Ginny wakes up. That’s probably a good thing, she decides, because it means there’s nothing to distract her while she’s getting ready to head to Holyhead; Harry really does look too delicious for his own good first thing in the morning, bare chested, (even more) wild haired, pyjamas bottoms hanging low on his hips. She indulges herself with a little daydream that is almost as distracting as the real thing, and consequently she’s still chewing her second slice of toast when she finally leaves the house.

Training is tough. Gwenog puts her team through a punishing strength and agility session in the morning, followed by full-speed chaser drills all afternoon, with absolutely no quarter given to the blazing summer heat. 

Eventually, it’s time to head home. Ginny’s exhausted, but the thrill of picturing Ty Môr as her destination at the apparition point gives her a second wind. 

As she hoped and expected, Harry is waiting for her; nothing kept him late at the office today. He’s grinning from ear to ear, his eyes gleam, and he’s practically bouncing up and down on the sofa, and she immediately knows he’s up to something.

“What?” she asks, suspiciously.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he tells her. “It’s in the kitchen. I think you’ll like it.”

“Careful, Potter,” she teases him, following him into the hallway. “The last time you told me that, it turned out that you’d bought us a house, so you’ve set the bar for surprises pretty high.” 

He doesn’t need to say anything else. As soon as she sees the wicker basket on the kitchen floor, she lets out a little squeak of delight. “You didn’t!”

Harry opens the latch on the basket, and a scrawny black kitten with huge yellow eyes takes a few cautious steps towards her. “I did,” he says, proudly. “I picked her up after work. What do you think?”

Ginny sits cross-legged on the floor and extends her fingers. The kitten sniffs at them curiously, though she soon grows bored and ambles off to inspect the skirting boards instead. “I think she’s gorgeous! Thank you!” Then she looks sharply at Harry. “What’s her name?”

He laughs, settling on the floor next to her. “You told me I needed to get you a kitten to name, so you tell me.”

Ginny hums thoughtfully. She prides herself on choosing good names; it’s basically a super-power. She knows that people doubt her prowess, but she’s never, ever picked a dud, always proved correct in the long run, regardless of any short term criticism. She’s learned not to overthink it; the right name usually just comes to her in a flash of inspiration, so she lets her subconscious guide her, and sure enough, there it is: the perfect name.

“Treacle,” she announces, confidently. “Her name is Treacle.”

Harry looks visibly relieved. “Oh, thank Merlin! I thought you were going to pick something weird like Hypotenuse, or Eyelash or… Frumpkin.”

Well obviously, Ginny isn’t going to let him get away with that. 

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Frumpkin!” she exclaims, gazing at him with wide-eyed amazement.  “Harry Potter, you genius! I had no idea you were so good at coming up with names! Oh, it’s perfect! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself.”

He blanches for a moment, before he realises he’s been had. “Okay, okay, point taken.” He smiles wryly and shakes his head. “What I meant to say is: Treacle is a fantastic name, and it really suits her.”

She shifts so that she’s facing him, and places a flirty finger on the centre of his chest, trying and failing to keep the smile off her face. “No, no, no,” she teases. “That is nowhere near good enough.”

He leans forward, shooting her that lop-sided grin she loves so much. “Alright, what’s it going to take for you to forgive me?”

She looks straight into those extraordinary green eyes, only inches away from hers. “Say: Forgive me, Ginny, for ever questioning your name-choosing brilliance,” she instructs him.

He raises an eyebrow, and leans just a bit closer. “Forgive me, Ginny, for ever questioning your name-choosing brilliance.” 

“That’s better,” she breathes. The space between them is closing. Ginny’s eyes close and her lips part, in anticipation of meeting his. The palm of one hand is warm against her cheek, the other finds her waist, and his nails lightly scratch the sensitive skin of her inner thigh—which, it suddenly occurs to her, isn’t physically possible, because even the saviour of the wizarding world only has two hands.

Ginny’s eyes fly open and she looks down at her lap to find Treacle gazing up at her with unblinking yellow eyes. “Meee!” squeaks the kitten, indignantly. “Meeeee!”

Ginny bursts out laughing. “Hey there, Treacle. I guess we weren’t paying you enough attention?” Treacle rubs her cheek against Ginny’s knuckles and starts to purr.

Harry sighs. “Maybe we can pick that up again later?” he asks, hopefully.

“Definitely!” She winks at him. “Assuming, of course, that you mean you begging for my forgiveness?”

He shoots her a cocky grin. “Oh, I’m pretty sure it won’t be me doing the begging.”

Privately, she agrees with him, but she isn’t going to concede just yet. “We’ll see, Potter. We’ll see.”

She’s looking forward to finding out.

[kazz-brekker]

in a decision that was frankly inevitable in some way i watched the first episode of hannibal and so far have 1. been like "ohhhhh i get it the reason every likes will graham is because he's not a cool detective he's a gothic heroine" after watching him be plagued by nightmares, have fragile nerves, and get his personal space invaded by multiple people including one trying to manipulate him, 2. burst out laughing when the streaming service i was watching it on played an ad for the show "nightmare kitchen" partway through the episode, 3. audibly said "oh no" when they went to duluth, minnesota, aka the hometown of my former college roommate who is also a white brunette young woman, and 4. informed my sister that the main character of the show i was watching had probably just eaten a human lung in his scrambled eggs. so, all in all, a very promising start!

[paedeul]

Youngwoo almost wished Jo would’ve given up. Call after call, over ten missed notifications lighting up his screen. Even on the way here, Jo had kept ringing, his persistence relentless. And yet, every attempt had gone ignored. But Youngwoo knew he couldn’t avoid him forever. Eventually, he’d have to see him. He’d have to face him, to say the words that would shatter whatever hope Jo still held. Because whatever this was with Taejoon—whatever had been slowly, inevitably rekindling between them—needed a real chance. And this time, he wasn’t going to run from it.

Maybe if things had played out differently that night—if the right person had shown up instead of Jo—everything would have already been settled. Maybe they would’ve finally said what needed to be said. Would things have changed? Would they have figured it out then? Youngwoo thought so.

Now, as the call was finally answered, not by him but by Taejoon, Youngwoo let his head tip back against the side of the tub, watching him through half-lidded eyes. The water had long since turned cold, but his ankle still ached too much to move. He’d have to get out soon, but not yet. Not until he could manage on his own. He exhaled slowly, studying Taejoon—the phone pressed to his ear, the expression on his face. Youngwoo recognized that look, knew exactly what he thought about Jo, what this conversation meant.

He was going to have to be honest. He’d have to tell Taejoon about his previous intentions to move forward, to finally stop hesitating. He’d have to admit that, despite everything, despite 19 years of tangled history, his heart had always belonged here. And even if he had to break someone else’s heart in the process, he couldn’t ignore the truth any longer. Because how could he ever give his heart away when it had only ever belonged to Taejoon? And even if he could . . . why would he ever want to share it?

Youngwoo was pulled back to reality by the gentle brush of Taejoon’s hand through his damp hair. Instinctively, he leaned into the touch, his gaze flicking up—soft, conflicted, laced with something dangerously close to an apology. An apology for the mess he’d created. But guilt didn’t settle in his chest the way it should have.

He didn’t care that he had lied to Jo. Didn’t care that Jo would be worried, left searching for answers that would never come. Because in the end, Jo would go home. He would be safe. And right now, that was all that mattered. When the call finally ended, Youngwoo exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “ No, there were no other witnesses. Just him. ” His voice was low, almost distant, as his gaze drifted away. “ I didn’t . . . I didn’t even know he was there. ”

There was more he wanted to say. More he should say. But the weight of it pressed down on him, burying the words beneath years of avoidance, of running, of refusing to acknowledge the things that had always been right in front of him. Maybe later. For now, there were simpler things to focus on—things he could control. Like getting out of the water before his body went completely numb.

With a quiet sigh, he finally lifted his eyes back to Taejoon, hand outstretched. “ Can you help me out? ” His voice was quieter now, something raw beneath the words. “ We can talk after I get some clothes on. ”

Youngwoo's unwavering stare and lack of rush to answer should be of some comfort to him. Yet, as the phone continues to ring out and the name continues to flash on his screen, Taejoon feels... anger. It had been unfathomable to him before, why the man pissed him off so much. That fateful night, when everything went to shit, he had been there to comfort Youngwoo in his stead. Always there, somehow involved. A nobody, with a pretty face and a good home, sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

He should have known they were something more.

You should know that he witnessed it though.

Taejoon frowns. It can only mean one thing, a conclusion he had come to the moment Youngwoo collapsed through his door with blood on his shoes and panic in his eyes. He answers the call on it's last ring, the phone held to his ear.

“  Joseph Landi, we meet again, ” his sights remain set on Youngwoo as he speaks, the expected pause on the other end offering little amusement for him. Who is this? Where's Ian? Ian. “  You don't remember me? I suppose it was a while back now. Ian is safe with me. No need to fret. I have things under control. All you need to do is go home. Speak to no one else. ”

It's not at all surprising when he's questioned further. He can hear the tremble in Jo's voice as he speaks, the short breaths in between indicate that he's walking briskly. Taejoon steps closer to the bathtub, holding the very man Jo was in search of. He looks down at Youngwoo, then, his hand reaching out to brush over his hair. It's a possessive itch, and he knows it, one not entirely satiated. I'm yours, uttered like a promise to match his own. Jealousy has no place here.

“  Your concern is admirable, but he's sleeping. He was quite shaken when he arrived, ” and his thumb brushes down Youngwoo's temple, sweeping away a drop of water. He has a few calls to make, it would seem. “  Go home. I don't like to repeat myself. You'll hear from me soon, ” And Ian- Taejoon ends the call and pockets Youngwoo's phone. His silence thereafter doesn't linger any longer than necessary, but enough to afford him a moment's thought.

Taejoon sighs, “  he doesn't strike me as the type to keep his mouth shut. Were there any other witnesses? ”

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

There's a viral video circulating from the Fort Worth Zoo, of two keepers who ended up in a habitat at the same time as a silverback gorilla. Spoiler for good news: neither the humans nor the gorilla got hurt. It's a bad situation that ended extremely well, and that's why I want to talk about it.

The audio for this video is mostly someone praying loudly, so if you need to turn the audio off to watch it, you won't miss anything relevant. If you don't want to watch it, here's the summary: it starts with a keeper running around the corner into the main exhibit, pursued by a large male gorilla. She is quickly able to get into a doorway at the back of the exhibit, but does not completely close the door because the gorilla is standing across from her, watching. He eventually moves off to the right hand side of the exhibit, where we can see a keeper is trapped in the corner at the front. She was trying to move towards the exit as he moved to the right, and she stops, standing very still behind a tree, while he stays along the far right wall. They stay like that for a minute, and then the gorilla runs to the front right corner, and the keeper is able to run to the door in the back of the exhibit and get to safety.

Let's start with basic information. Even though it's just going viral now, this video is from October of 2023. It was taken not by a guest, but by the zoo security officer responding to the situation. Hmmm, seems like he maybe should have been doing something else during that situation, instead of than taking a phone video. It's going viral now because the guy (who is no longer employed at the zoo) decided to post it on TikTok for his five minutes of fame. This guy immediately started giving all sorts of media interviews, answering questions like "why no tranquilizers" inappropriately, making memes out of his own video, generally distasteful shit.

Zoo spokesperson Avery Elander gave a public statement that "thankfully, there was no physical contact between keepers and gorilla, and all staff and animals are safe." A comment from the zoo has also indicated that the incident was due to keeper error. (As opposed to, for instance, something in the fencing breaking.) According to the guy who posted the video, a lock was left unsecured and the gorilla was able to open the door to the habitat. I don't know if I buy it, and again, this just... is probably why he doesn't have a job anymore. By sharing that detail - real or not - he places a ton of public scrutiny and blame on that keeper team. (If that's what happened, I can promise you it will have been dealt with internally.) He also was nice enough to say he wouldn't name the women in the video... but verified they're still staffers at the zoo... which means they're eminently identifiable! Excuse me while I ragequit for a second.

So there's two reasons I wanted to talk about this. The first is to make sure it is well known that this guy is purposefully and intentionally exploiting the worst day of someone's life for media attention. Their lives were in danger, and he's using it for fame. His name is in the media articles - I'm not going to share it because he doesn't deserve that attention. The second reason, though, is because this video is a masterclass on how to survive if you end up sharing space with a gorilla. Every zoo person I've spoken to or seen comment on the video is so, so impressed with how the keepers handled themselves.

The gorilla in this video is 34-year-old Elmo. All apes in AZA zoos are managed in protected contact, so keepers are supposed to be separated from them by a barrier at all times. The zookeepers were in the habitat putting out a mid-day meal when he got out. Watching the video, you can see he's not actively being aggressive towards them - he's not making threat displays or trying to approach them. Mostly, Elmo seems like he doesn't know what is going on and he's kinda freaked out about it. (This is confirmed in the zoo's press statement, too). The staff stayed calm, and importantly, watched and waited to see how he'd move and act.

The zoo did say one thing, though, that's a bit misleading. In one article, their press person I quote as saying “In general, gorillas are considered the “gentle giants” of the great ape species.” Just because this may be true in comparison to other great ape species doesn't meant gorilla aren't still incredibly dangerous. This type of messaging always worries me, because I think it leads people to misunderstand the risks of being close to megafauna. Gorilla are extremely strong animals, and their social norms/behaviors are very different from that of humans. That's why it's such a big deal any time people end up in gorilla habitats, and why sometimes in those circumstances lethal measures have to be taken to protect human life.

These keepers are incredibly lucky to be unharmed. These women stayed safe specifically because they're trained professionals who knew how to act around gorilla, they knew this particular animal well, and they'd learned the escapes from the exhibit just in case this ever happened. We should applaud them for their cool heads and quick thinking.

As for the guy who posted the video? As a colleague put it, may he always step on a Lego.

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

[suksatoru]

sixth sense! ⋆˚୨♡୧˚⋆ rin itoshi x you

rin itoshi has a very special skill, one where he can predict when you're about to spew absolute nonsense. he says he has a sixth sense reserved just for your antics, and he also swears you're going to be the reason he has a full head of gray hair before he turns twenty.

"rinnie," you try again—pouting when rin exhales sharply from his nose, refusing to meet your gaze. rin sits on the ground at the end of his bed, and you sit perched on top of his blankets—hanging your head upside down to stare at him like the cheshire cat.

"no." he replies, short and curt as you drape yourself over his shoulder with a sigh. he shifts the slightest bit so you can comfortably curl your head against his form. you nose at his throat before speaking up again, quieter this time.

"pretty please? it's really all i want, rinnie. it would make my day—no, my life! please?"

rin thought you were the idiot in this relationship, but he knows he's the real lovesick fool. it wasn't impossible to say no, he says it to other people all the time. but your eyes are hopeful and round. and truthfully, the sight of your frown was truly his undoing.

rin lets out a dramatic sigh, loud and annoyed—and you know he accepts his defeat when he hands you his hair brush with a grumble. you roll off of the bed, sitting criss cross on the ground across him in an instant as you grab the nearby rubber bands laying on the floor with a dopey grin

"you just relax while i work rinnie! i promise, you won't even know i'm here!"

rin's deadpan expression only makes you laugh quietly, and you lean forward to place a gentle peck onto his lips. you hover over his mouth after pulling away an inch, taking a moment to admire his face before grinning

"grumpy," you muse as you gently brush your nose against his. rin mumbles something about you knowing nothing about personal space as he tugs you onto his lap

"if i'm bald by the end of this—"

"oooh rinnie your hair's so soft! i'm stealing your shampoo later," you interrupt with a giggle, pressing soft kisses onto the crown of his head as his shoulders slump. his broody expression is far too adorable to not kiss, and after peppering enough kisses onto his cheeks to leave them tinted pink—you get to work.

rin doesn't know why you want to style his hair. he regards your sparkly pink hair clips with an eye roll. but your fingers are gentle and soothing as they work to brush and style his hair, and he can feel the exhaustion slowly dispersing from his muscles as he leans into your touch.

"it feels...nice. thank you," he murmurs softly, gently rubbing your thigh as you hum in response. he moves to take a glance at you, and his heart skips a beat when he sees your tongue poked out in concentration as you work on tying his hair. cute.

it takes another fifteen minutes for you to finish your assault on his head. rin's practically putty beneath your fingers now, and there's a barely visible furrow between his brows when you pull your touch away from him.

"you look like a prince... you should totally let me style your hair more often, rinnie!" you gush, smiling softly as you admire your work on him.

"i'll be the judge of that," he mutters with a small smile, reaching onto his bed to grab your phone. he bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling when he sees your wallpaper being his back and jersey number, but the smile is wiped off his face in an instant as he lets out a startled yelp—staring at his reflection in the camera app.

"yeah. not happening, you cheeky brat." he scoffs, pointing at his head with a scowl

"y/n, tell me where you got five hundred charms of hello kitty clips... what damned store did you rob? and why are there pink extensions in my hair? are they—is that fucking glitter in them?"

rin eventually fell victim to a photoshoot, though he shouldn't be surprised. did he really think he'd escape you that easily? he's not very amused by your new wallpaper of him afterwards, but he can't even try and stop the amusement glimmering in his emerald eyes.

"not a soul will see those pictures. or i swear, i'll stick you in a gold fish tank y/n." rin mutters later that night as you two lay in bed, pressing feather soft kisses onto your shoulder blades as he silently admires the way your lips jut out in an adorable pout. his threat isn't very scary when he holds you like you're the most precious thing in his life, but you nod anyway.

"okay," you sigh in defeat. rin's eyes narrow suspiciously as he wraps his arms around your waist, settling in for the night as he turns off his bedside lamp.

"night, y/n." he whispers gently, his lashes brushing against your cheek as he kisses you softly. your hand gently brushes his bangs away from his eyes, and his face softens at your giggles

"night, rinnie. tomorrow you can style my hair! and then, we can be twins..." you affirm quietly. it's dark in the room, the night outside blanketing you two. there's a sliver of moonlight pouring through the window, and it's the only reason you're able to see the gentle smile on rin's face before you fall asleep.

blue lock masterlist :P

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference] reacting to a s/o falling asleep on their lap

The reason I have to post requests like this is because, for some reason, if I post them as Tumblr requests, I can’t find them again when I search for them. Making the masterlist was a real struggle. As usual, I’m using the headcanon to promote my longfic on Arcane, Everytime It Rains.

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 |

Jayce:

It often happens when he spends the evening working instead of giving you attention.

You know he doesn’t mean it in a bad way, so you settle for climbing onto his lap, letting your limbs dangle, and resting your face against his chest.

He stays focused on studying the documents in front of him, but one hand holds your head steady to keep you from losing your balance.

He strokes your hair absentmindedly.

When he notices you’ve fallen asleep, he feels a warmth, a tender sort of affection. He doesn’t want to wake you but wishes he had something to drape over your shoulders.

After a while, it becomes his signal that he’s pushed himself too far with work.

That’s the moment when he lifts your face to kiss you before carrying you to bed.

Viktor:

The classic "working on the couch" position, where you first sit next to him to avoid disturbing him, then drape one leg over his lap, and eventually both. By the end of the evening, you’re fully curled up in his arms.

He holds your side, resting his cheek against your head while continuing to read his notes, basking in the warmth of that shared intimacy.

He asks you several times if you’re tired, and when you don’t respond, he smiles softly, realizing exhaustion has won you over.

He pulls the blanket up to cover you both, and even when you grumble in annoyance at his movements, he chuckles and just says, “Just a second”

He works for another couple of hours but never stops stroking your side or giving you small kisses on the forehead.

Ekko:

“Aw, someone’s sleepy here,” is the first thing he says when you take the overboard from his hands, and let yourself plop into his lap, already wrapped in a blanket like a cape.

He doesn’t even try to go back to what he was doing. Instead, he pulls you close, rubbing his face against yours, taking in your scent.

He loves it—maybe even more than cuddling lying down. He enjoys the weight, the shape of your body, and being able to cradle you.

Because of this, he doesn’t ask if you’d rather lie down; he stays put, ensuring your rest is protected.

It’s only when you’re fully asleep and start shifting to find a more comfortable position that he decides to carry you to bed, staying there with you afterward.

Vander:

I’ll be honest, would.

The underground city is freezing due to the lack of light that filters in, all the glass and steel radiating cold from the outside. That’s why there’s no place more comfortable than this man’s laps.

You usually do it when the bar is still closed, and only a few close friends are inside. When you know he isn’t on the defensive and you won’t slow him down.

He laughs, keeping one hand on your back to support you, and points out to anyone around him that it’s good for you to get a little rest.

If you stay asleep even after the bar opens, he’ll grab a chair and sit it beside him so he can take care of the larger tasks first and then return to you in his lap.

But if it’s the weekend, when things can easily heat up, he’ll delay opening just to get you to bed, give you a kiss, and apologize for leaving you alone.

Silco:

Can we normalize this man as a piece of furniture?

It’s not even about being tired or wanting attention, sometimes it’s just the comfort the situation itself provides.

The way the swivel chair rocks, the vinyl on the record player, the intense, greenish light pouring through the window, and enjoying his delicate fingers in your hair while the entire city stretches out beneath you.

He doesn’t ask why you do it, nor if you want to move. He assumes that if you wanted something different, you would simply ask, so he continues to give you those small attentions endlessly.

He keeps you on the side of his good eye, so he doesn’t have to turn his head to check on you, but can discreetly notice if your expression changes or if you fall asleep.

These are the moments when Sevika knows that no one is supposed to enter his office, so you can have a bit of peace.

Jinx:

She’s always busy, always active, always too loud. Sitting in her lap sometimes seems almost like a necessity to keep her still and focused on just one thing.

“Awwww, my little bug is sleepy?”

She hums while holding you in her arms, one hand still trying to get her projects done.

If too much time passes, she’ll bend her knees and push herself forward, making the swivel chair move in the direction she wants so she can stay occupied while talking to you about whatever crosses her mind.

If she feels your breathing change, that you’re falling asleep, she suddenly freezes, as if to let you rest.

She pulls you closer, caresses you, kisses your temples, and carries you to her little couch.

Vi:

If manhandling were a woman

When you sit on her lap, she treats you like you’re a cat: fine. It will end there.

Does she need to pee? No, she doesn’t anymore.

She can’t disturb you, or you might get up and leave.

But when it starts to become a constant, she’ll cover your back and simply hold you while she does what she needs to do.

If you complain, she’ll kiss you, apologizing and reassuring you that you’ll be back on the sofa soon, asking you to hang on.

She enjoys that closeness, your breath on her skin, the trust in that action.

The moment she sits back down or rests, she’ll shower you with cuddles, even if you’re asleep or pretending to be.

Caytlin:

She’s the one to ask if you want to sit in her lap, worried that she’s neglecting you.

She keeps you with her, even if you’re asleep, supporting you to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or lose your balance.

Her biggest fear is not being able to express how much she cares for you, how happy she is to have you there.

The quickest way she knows to do that is through physical contact—the reassuring, warm kind.

“How was your day?” she asks, giving you space to talk and feel seen. She doesn’t want the things she has to do to take away from you, from the two of you.

If she still feels like she’s ignoring you, she’ll ask you to sit on the couch with her to watch a movie, or maybe in bed, cuddled up, just being close.

Mel:

I recognize mommy issues when I see them, and so does she. You’ve been caught.

She welcomes you into her arms almost playfully, gently caressing your hands and arms, speaking softly with her head turned toward you.

She knows it’s the easiest way for you to ask for attention, and she simply accepts it, letting you rest either in her arms or with your head on her lap.

She talks to you about her day, her plans, her worries as if telling you a lullaby, letting you rest on her concerns, including you in her mind so that you don’t feel like a burden.

If you fall asleep, she rests her chin on your shoulder and closes her eyes as well, enjoying a few minutes of peace, trying to sync your breathing together.

Sevika:

You live on the lap of this woman.

When she adjusts her arm, when you eat something on the couch, even at the bar while she plays cards or drinks, you’re always there.

The safest place in the underground city is on the massive legs of a woman with a mechanical arm, and that’s a fact.

Her initial fear, especially in public, was that someone might associate you with her and harm you.

But over time, it’s almost become a flex -you, pretty thing, are hers,

Every now and then, she checks to see if you’re okay, if you want to go to bed, if you’re comfortable, and with her healthy hand, she caresses your cheek while doing so.

At home, she always makes sure to cover you, to keep you close.

She doesn’t even go to bed unless you ask, enjoying the feeling of your body against hers.

[kitten4sannie]

imprint

pairing: werewolf! mingi x hunter! reader (fem)

genre: fluff, romance, smut

summary: you seemingly end up biting off more than you can chew upon discovering that the beast you hunted down for dinner is not what it seems.

w.c: 4.5k (more plot than smut this time hehe)

warnings: needy soft dom! mingi, sub! reader, pet names + praise only (shocking ik), pheromones mentioned, possessiveness, kissing, groping, tit play, spit + drool bc wolf mingi is a messy boy <3, mingi eats out reader like she’s his last meal 🫶🏼, SIZE KINK,,, feral unprotected sex, knotting <333, bulge kink/cum inflation, breeding kink ofc

a/n: IT’S FICTOBER TIME BITCH LETS FUCKING GOOO 🗣️ i am fashionably late ~ but i have come here to humbly offer you lovestruck werewolf mingi 🐺 <3 this is the softest my fictober stories will get btw lol it’s gonna be depravity from here on out ^^ oh and i’m sorry if this fic seems disjointed in any way,, i have a lot on my mind these days but regardless i hope you enjoy ~~

pssst: thank you so, so much for 5.5k followers !! it’s honestly insane to me and i still can’t fathom it hehe but the support and love means so very much to me <333

song rec: say - keshi

fictober 2024

You knew better than to hunt at night, but your rumbling stomach begged to differ. The evening air was frigid, sitting heavily inside your lungs each time you regrettably breathed it in, your hefty pelt only doing so much to keep you safe from the powerful winds that continually blew through the vast forest around you. You pulled the hood of your pelt down for a moment, the familiar sounds of wildlife finally making their way to your now exposed ears, though a freezing breeze made its mark on the soft flesh of your rosy cheeks and nose. You bit into your chapped bottom lip, surveying your surroundings for something you’d be able to feast on once you were back inside the safety of your cabin, thanking the gods for the decent visibility you had from the full moon above. 

The longer you sat there in silence, your body never growing acclimated to the fierce winter temperatures, you began to fall susceptible to exhaustion, the kind that had sunk its way deep into your bones in the same way your loneliness had for years at a time, feeling so heavy you retired from your once rigid stance and slumped down against the oak tree behind you. A few winks of sleep couldn’t possibly hurt you, not when you were quick to rise and fight if need be, your trusty bow and arrow at your side, as well as a pocket knife always sitting in its holster at your hip. You would be up as soon as you had the strength to open up your eyes and go on. 

You eventually woke up to the sound of howling. It had been so distinctly powerful that it was most likely produced by a large wolf, perhaps the leader of a pack. It was then that the culprit of the noise stalked past a few nearby trees and bushes, its dark shaggy coat leaving it virtually impossible to see due to the way it blended in so seamlessly. Leaving abnormally big paw prints behind in the ground below, it slowly paced back and forth in front of you, still quite a distance away from you, but getting closer and closer with each step it made, its large brown eyes piercing right through yours and seemingly gazing upon your soul, deeply fixated on your presence. 

It was much larger than any wolf you had seen in your entire lifetime, more akin to a dire wolf, which you had only seen in books, as it had been extinct for hundreds of years before, yet it was…so familiar. Still trapped inside the limbo of the dream you were initially having and your reality, you weren’t completely sure if what was happening before you was actually real. Not only that, but you had the sudden urge to be at the mercy of the wolf, even if it meant that you’d end up with your throat between the beautiful creature’s ragged teeth. However, you weren’t going to roll the dice with death, not when you’ve seen past loved ones get their lives snuffed out by a predator half the size of the one that was suddenly eagerly making its way towards you. 

Just before the wolf could reach you, your bow was drawn, the feathered arrow slicing into the cold skin of your cheek as it sailed through the air and lodged itself into the creature’s shoulder, your eyes shut tight all the while. What you expected to hear were the familiar pained whines of a canine but you instead were exposed to the lower pitched groans of a man, causing you to freeze, your eyes opening back up, now widened like marbles. The last thing you were expecting to see was another human, not when you lived alone in the woods for so long, and especially not a man that was stark naked and cowering in pain, with tears in his glistening eyes, looking at you as though you had betrayed him. 

You dropped your bow in favor of being at the strange man’s side, surveying his wound, realizing you were so exhausted and hungry, you must’ve simply imagined the wolf. “I-i thought…” you whispered, mostly to yourself, your voice trailing off, almost surprised to hear it after not using it for so long.

“Is that your way of saying hello?” The man hissed in pain when you touched the site of his wound, pushing your hand away from the broken shard of wood that was still lodged inside his bare shoulder. 

“I thought you were…going to kill me…” You reached down and tore off a portion of your thick linen blouse, about to wrap it around the man’s wound when you blocked you with his forearm. “I saw a wolf…” 

“Do I look like a wolf?” he pouted, reaching over to hold his shoulder in pain. 

“I’m sorry, I–…Please, let me help you. I need to apply pressure,” you reasoned, your face contorted with growing regret and concern. 

Studying your body language, the man cautiously let go of his arm and allowed you to wrap the torn linen around the wound site, biting into his lip all the while, letting out a few pained grunts. “Hurts…” 

“I know, I’m almost done, I promise…” you whispered softly near him, taking a second to share a look with the man, apologizing once again with your softened gaze and upturned brows. 

Once you were done, he leaned forward slightly into your personal space to study you, his eyes widened once again, this time with curiosity and admiration, already trusting you despite remnants of your arrow still left inside him. 

You bit into your lip, letting out a small breath, which turned into condensation as soon as it left your mouth. “I didn’t think anyone else lived in this forest…Where did you come from?”

Afraid that you would find his true identity to be far too much for you to handle, he thought it would be better to hide it. “Some would call me a nomad…I’m here, there, everywhere, really.” 

You nodded at his words, noticing once again that he lacked clothes when you were finally able to pull your attention away from his hypnotizing likeness, never having been drawn to someone like this before. It was then that you averted your eyes with diligence, your once cold cheeks growing warmer the more he stared at you. It took all your strength to return his gaze for just a moment. “Do nomads usually wander around the woods without proper clothing?” 

“Well–” The werewolf’s vision went dark for a second, as your pelt was thrown onto him. He pulled it down just enough to continue admiring the human he had been watching from a distance for so long, blowing a few strands of dark shaggy hair out of his sight. “I’m Mingi, by the way. What’s your name?” 

“Y-Y/N,” you answered sheepishly, not sure why the strange man was so keenly interested in you, especially after you just shot him with an arrow. 

“Y/N,” he repeated lovingly, enjoying the way it sounded, slowly sitting up until little white dots began to dance around his vision. “I don’t feel so good.” When Mingi fell forward into your arms, he couldn’t help but smile. You smelled so pretty, just like he had imagined. Warm like cinnamon, smoky like the fire you always kept burning inside your cabin, sweet like flowers in a garden he would roll around in when no one was around. You smelled like home. 

-

It took most of your strength helping the injured man back to your cabin, immediately laying him down in your bed and pulling your warm blankets up over him. To beat the freezing temperature inside your cabin, you quickly tossed a few pieces of wood in the fireplace and lit it up. You stayed crouched near the controlled flames for a little while to make sure the fire stayed alive, until your company let out a soft groan of pain. Now at his side, you pulled the pelt from his shoulders and frowned at the extent of the damage you caused, tears pricking at your eyes. “You’re still bleeding, Mingi…I’m so sorry…I need to stitch you up.”

Just as you stood up, Mingi reached up to hold onto the corner of your torn blouse, blinking hazily up at you, a few beads of sweat cascading along his straining neck. “Please, don’t worry about me, love. You’re the one who needs rest.” 

“Nonsense.” You shook your head, pulling away to find your sewing kit, your cheeks hot to the touch. Once you found it inside one of your drawers, along with a sleep shirt that had belonged to a previous loved one, you returned to Mingi’s side. “Now, stay still, okay?” 

“I’ll do whatever you need from me.” Mingi slowly sat up and rested his back against the headboard, watching with interest as you expertly sewed his wound closed, quite fond of the way you took care of him, and of how close you were to him, your hand resting on his chest for stability as you worked. Before you could pull your hand away from his body, he placed his over yours, unintentionally allowing you to feel his rapid heartbeat. “Thank you for this. Anyone else would’ve left me for the wolves.”

Biting into your lip, you couldn’t help but take into account the way his hand completely enveloped yours, truly forgetting just how important physical touch and connection with others was until this very moment, now that his warm skin was pressing into yours. “I-it’s nothing, really…”

“No, it’s not just nothing,” Mingi pouted, slowly bringing your hand up against his cheek to gently nuzzle into it. He couldn’t believe he had gotten this close to you, the special human he had been head over paws for ever since he had seen you for the first time. “It’s everything. You saved me.” 

It was almost as if this stranger had escaped one of the novels you read over and over, seeming too good to be true. “It was the least I could do after I hurt you…” 

It was when Mingi began to look at you for too long, with that unwavering longing in his eyes, that you cleared your throat and stood up, announcing, “I think I’ll make us some nice, warm soup. How does that sound?” 

It took everything in Mingi not to let out a few celebratory howls, instead nodding his head eagerly, his shaggy brown hair bouncing. “I’ve always wanted to try your food. I can smell it from outside sometimes and it always makes my stomach rumble.” 

You began to expertly chop up vegetables, stopping mid slice when you digested Mingi’s interesting choice of words. “So you know of me?” 

“I-i do,” he nodded shyly, despite your back being turned away from him.

“Have you been watching me, Mingi?” you asked after a few more minutes of silence, your knife now slicing into the last few potatoes you had pulled from your garden before winter began. 

“….Admiring you,” he gently corrected, knowing his big fluffy ears would be splayed out in embarrassment if they were there. 

Just as you began to pour the cut up vegetables into the pot of boiling broth, you blushed and jolted suddenly from the implications of the handsome stranger’s words. Your elbow knocked into the side of your cleaver, causing it to slip off the edge of the wood counter. Before you could blink, Mingi had already caught the handle of the cleaver, slowly standing up by your side, officially displaying the sheer size difference between the two of you. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you, love…” Mingi set the cleaver back down onto the counter, reaching over to touch your hand with a gentleness you hadn’t experienced before. 

The speed and quickness of Mingi’s reaction was incomprehensible; you were still reeling from it. Now he stood beside you, his size and stature more akin to a beast in human form than a simple man. Not only that, but the hand that was overlapping yours felt hot to the touch, like Mingi had a furnace burning away inside of him. You had heard stories of shapeshifters that lived in dense forests much like the one you called home. They had been around for centuries, living amongst themselves, never interacting with humans, able to take the form of beasts at will. You glanced out your window, peering up at the bright orb looming over you. It was a full moon, after all — but did myths like that really exist in the real world? 

“Mingi…are you…?” Your words began to die inside your mouth as soon as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place inside your mind. You couldn’t deny the connection you felt with Mingi, knowing that your total isolation played a part in your desire to let him in. It clouded your mind. You were growing so tired, you almost didn’t seem to mind if he wasn’t strictly human. 

Mingi smiled softly down at you, one of his canine teeth poking out past his plump lips, leaning himself down a bit to shorten the distance between you. He waited eagerly for you to finish your question, tilting his head to the side, having to blow his hair out of the way. 

“Are you hungry?” you finally asked, lowering the flame on the stove so that the soup could settle now that it was ready to serve. 

Mingi’s lips formed a silent ‘o’, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He thought you might’ve been on the same page about your mutual attraction, but he was beginning to suspect that his obsession with you was one sided. It’s not like you had imprinted on him; it was the other way around. Silly wolf. 

Before Mingi could cry about it, he tasted something so delicious, he couldn’t help but let out an enthusiastic ‘mmm!’. You had slipped a soup spoon into his open mouth, allowing him to try the first homemade meal he’s ever had in his life, one that you had made for the both of you to share together within the sanctity of your cabin, away from the bitter isolation of the forest. He was a silly wolf, after all, because this, this was love. 

“Good?” you gauged softly, your eyebrows upturned with sheepish anticipation. 

“Good! Ahhh~” Mingi licked his lips and opened up again, savoring the warm, comforting feeling inside his stomach once you fed him another bite. “I’ve never had something this delicious before.” 

“Oh, stop,” you blushed, pouring some soup into a bowl and handing it to Mingi, shocked to see him bring it up to his mouth and gulp it down. “Oh, you weren’t lying…were you?” 

Mingi’s brown eyes were round, shiny like marbles, filled with unwavering sincerity. “Everything tastes better when you’re with the one you love…” 

You almost choked on your own soup, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. “D-did I hear that right…?” 

Mingi was a romantic at heart. He couldn’t help it, especially when the moon was so big and bright, glowing with everlasting light. She was reminding him to be brave. “Y/N, do you believe in love at first sight?” 

Your heart thumped away inside your chest, a steady reminder that you were alive, and not alone for the first time in a long time. “I think I might…Is that crazy?” 

Mingi brought his hand up to his face to hide the way it scrunched up with pure joy, his cheeks rosy and full of warmth. “If it is, then I must be too.” 

“Where…have you been all this time? I’ve been waiting…for someone like you…” You slowly reached up to pull his hand down, bringing it to your own face, pressing your cold cheek into his large palm. “For someone to keep me warm.” 

He had been there all this time; you just hadn’t seen him yet. But now, you would see all of him. Without thinking, Mingi brought his other hand to your face, gently cupping your cheeks and bringing himself down so that he could press his lips onto yours. It took everything in him to pull away just enough to whisper, “I’m here now. Is that…better?” 

For the first time, you felt like you could let your guard down, not be the lonely, hardened hunter you had to be. Now that you were safe, you could take a rest. “Better,” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around Mingi’s neck just in time to lay against his chest, losing the strength to stay awake. 

-

You woke up to the sensation of something intensely warm wrapped around you from behind, someone’s lips idly pressed to the nape of your neck, what felt like fluffy ears twitching near your hair, the soft fur tickling your exposed skin. The air around you was hot and heavy like you were stuck inside an oven, an enticing aroma of spiced cinnamon and woody musk clouding your senses. Your eyelids fluttered open, first noticing two strong arms locked around your middle, realizing Mingi was holding you close to him, his heated chest pressing into your back. 

Overcome by the memories of earlier, the forgotten intimacy of being touched and held by someone, the intense pheromones you were practically doused in, and the want, the need to be truly seen by Mingi, despite having just met a few hours ago, you attempted to turn around to face him, only to have him tighten his grip just enough to keep you still. “M-mingi, I want to look at you…I’m not mad, I just–”

“Do you know what you’re getting into, love?” he whispered in a gravelly voice into your ear, sounding like he had just woken up out of a deep sleep, sending a rush of goosebumps across your skin with just his words. “I’m not…what you think I am.” 

You sheepishly pushed back against Mingi, hearing him let out a soft groan, knowing he was just as satisfied with the way your body felt against his. “I already know, Mingi…I trust you. I’m not scared.” You felt his grip loosen up around your waist, opting to cement his hands around your waist.

His lips were now pressing directly onto the shell of your ear, making you shiver. “Do you know what I am, Y/N? Do you wish to see?” 

“I do…” 

It was then that Mingi climbed on top of you, his broad naked body keeping the glowing orange light of the fire from reaching you, the pelt you had offered him earlier falling into a pile on the side of the bed. Filled with a sense of lustful wonder, you studied Mingi, your half-closed eyes trailing along his tan skin, noticing how his wound had already healed completely, unable to ignore the arousing addition of his elongated canine teeth and the way his tongue ran across them. “You’re a…werewolf…”

Mingi’s fluffy wolf ears twitched slightly, listening closely to the way your breath hitched. “Most would be scared of me, but you…you like this.” 

You swallowed harshly, still finding it very difficult to breathe in the air around you, Mingi’s dominating presence further encouraging you to submit. “Will you eat me?” 

Mingi let out a small puff of air through his nose, the corners of his mouth curling up into an amused smile, lowering himself further onto you, knowing his heavy cock was pressing into your heat through your linen trousers. His lips ghosted along your jaw, the bushy end of his tail gliding back and forth along one of your ankles, replicating the light strokes of a paintbrush. “Only in the way that would have you begging for more.” The small moan that escaped your throat didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi. He nosed at your neck, resisting the urge to lick and bite at it. “Though, i won’t do anything without your permission, love.”

You cupped your hands around his heated face, your insides feeling as if they had been set ablaze. “Do with me what you will, Mingi. I insist.” 

When Mingi’s lips parted, you pressed yours onto them with a fervor you didn’t realize you possessed. The kiss grew more and more intense, the two of you holding onto one another as though you were afraid it all would end too soon, taking turns licking into each other’s willing mouths, breathing in each other’s air when you grew dizzy. 

Growing frustrated with the lack of skin on skin contact, Mingi pushed his large hands up past the hem of your woolen top and slid it off of you, admiring the soft curves of your exposed breasts, before his desperation kicked in and he nuzzled his face against them, sighing onto your skin. “Beautiful…” He dragged his tongue up in between your tits, grabbing one while he sucked desperately on the other, a low growl erupting from his throat. 

“Mingi,” you moaned out, your back arching, only encouraging him to see what other pretty noises he could get you to make, gasping when his sharp teeth teased your sensitive nipples. 

He licked over them to ease the sudden bout of pain, unable to keep himself from sucking one of them into his mouth, apologizing with his upturned eyebrows and his big, round eyes. 

You simply couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him to make a mess of your aching cunt, feeling your wetness stick to the thin linen material of your pants as you kicked them off. “Mingi, more, please, need more…” 

The werewolf knew what you needed when your fingers slid into his soft hair, leaving kisses along your bare body as he moved down south, getting himself comfortable between your spread thighs. “You want me to eat you up, yeah?” He spread your pussy open with his thumbs, nosing at it to inhale your flowery scent, quite aware that it bumped into your clit when he gave your slit an experimental lick, just enough to collect your essence on his tongue. “My beloved needs me to ravage her?” 

“Yes, plea–oh, my god,” you reacted whinily, your thighs involuntarily pressing into the sides of his head just as he dove in, which he grabbed onto, pushing them up and out of his way, his lips and tongue already working in tandem to drive you to a place of pleasure you’ve never been before. 

Mingi devoured your cunt in true animalistic fashion, licking and slurping up your juices as soon as it spilled out of you, just to spit it it back onto your slit and drink it all down, eventually plugging you up with his large tongue to feel you throb, unable to keep himself from fucking you with it until you began to cry out his name in between unintelligible words, your fingers tugging on his hair.

So good, it’s so good, nnnghh, i’m–” You cut yourself off once your impending orgasm took over your body, barely able to register Mingi rubbing soft circles into your shaking thighs and leaving kisses across your inner thigh and on your sensitive clit. You were finally brought back to earth when Mingi’s arousal coated tongue slipped into your mouth, his heated body pressing heavily into yours, gasping into his mouth as soon as Mingi began to desperately rut against you, doing your best to swallow his drool. It was when he whimpered that you broke the desperate kiss, asking softly, “What is it, dear? Tell me what you need.” 

“Need you, need to be inside you,” Mingi exhaled against your jaw, letting out a few shaky breaths, unable to keep himself from sinking his claws into your sheets, clearly at his limit. “Can I…? Please?” 

“Have your way with me, Mingi,” you granted his wish, welcoming him with open arms, just as he folded you up into a mating press and began to pound himself into you.

Mingi knew that such an intimate position would almost guarantee that you would home his pups after the very first knot. It drove him crazy. He couldn’t help but fuck into you as hard and fast as he could, emitting a animalistic grunt or growl with each thrust he made into your dripping cunt, a few drops of drool escaping past his plump lips and landing on your flushed, sweat-ridden face. “You’re mine now, love. My mate. I’m going to breed you.” 

“Y–ours…!” you could barely enunciate, not when he kept punching the air out of your petite body when his oversized one came in contact with yours, his heavy cock continually slipping back into your willing hole with so much ease, it was clear that you were made for him.

“Mine. My pretty little mate, all for me.” It was then that Mingi bit down into your neck, hard enough that he could leave his mark on you, a white hot streak of pleasure shooting through your spine as he did so. 

It felt so good, you could’ve swore you were already cumming, dragging your nails down his broad back, your eyes disappearing underneath your fluttering eyelashes. The werewolf didn’t seem to get tired, no matter how many times you came undone, his large hands still tugging on your hips, forcefully guiding you back onto his cock as though you were a simple doll, at least until you felt a new sensation, something stretching you open even further. “Haaah, it’s so big…”  

“That’s my knot, love. Will you take it, Y/N?” he panted into your ear, licking and nibbling at it as his husky voice finally penetrated your hazy mind.

“Yes, give it to me, please, Min…”

He hummed against your skin, running his hands along the soft edges of your heated body. “I’ll breed you full…so full of my cum, you’ll be carrying my pups by the next full moon.” 

Something about what Mingi said altered the state of your mind on a primal level, your thighs automatically hooking around the werewolf’s waist, your arms around his neck to hold him impossibly close. You wouldn’t be alone anymore. You had a “mate,” like Mingi had lovingly coined the phrase. You would be his, and he was yours, and something so simple made you feel safe. 

“Yes, please.” 

It wasn’t the heavy knot that stretched you wide and locked you in that brought tears to your eyes, but the sudden, hot, seemingly endless rush of cum that flooded your womb that made you cry. Mingi rubbed gentle circles over the small pouch that joined the prominent bulge his cock made inside your abdomen. “You did so well, love, so good for me,” he cooed at you, giving your cheek a few loving licks. “You were made for me.” 

“I was just thinking that,” you sighed softly, running your fingers through his matted, sweaty hair, loving how it felt to have him still stay inside you, keeping all his love from pouring out. It just felt right. Being here with Mingi felt right, like you had always been waiting for him to fall into your life. 

“That’s because you’re my other half.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before resting his against yours. “It was destined.” 

“For me to shoot you with an arrow?” you joked, reaching up to gently play with one of his furry ears. 

Mingi nuzzled into your touch, wanting to stay with you in that moment, that warm bed, that cozy little cabin that kept you both safe for as long as he could. “I would get shot a million times over, if it meant that I could meet you again.” 

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[witherby]

imagine how cute would be if Bruce brings the little wayne to his work on wayne tower 🥺 the moment would be ruined if some paparazzi taking photos with flash and scaring the baby

Sooo the baby didn't end up getting scared, but this idea did make me spit out 2000 words worth of content. I hope that's a fair compromise :3

THE LITTLEST WAYNE: TAKE YOUR KID TO WORK DAY

Featuring: Bruce talking to you like a colleague, a newspaper article, and an overprotective Damian.

"Morning, Clarice. Donuts and coffee are getting delivered in five minutes if you wanna pop downstairs and help yourself. Afterwards, do me a favor and rebook the consultation with Lexcorp for sometime next month? The further out the better."

Bruce's secretary nodded, fingers flying across the keys to accommodate his request. She tucked a lock of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear and shot him a polite smile.

"Of course, mister Wayne — oh, goodness gracious."

Bruce's placid expression quickly became embarrassed. He tried to walk past her but she was already on her feet and rounding the desk, heels clicking over the linoleum floor to stand in front of him and the bundle on his arm.

"Who is this!" She cried, immediately fawning over you. You stared blankly at her as you suckled on your binky, wrapped up in a tiny Nightwing onesie (Dick got to the clothes first this morning) and hugging your father's arm. "Oh, my, you're the most adorable baby I've ever seen! I'm Clarice! I'm your father's personal secretary, and apparently the last person to find out anything, including when he adopted yet another child!"

"This wasn't a...planned acquisition," Bruce muttered, the tips of his ears pink. He let the blonde gently squish your fat cheeks and you preened under the attention, lifting one fuzzy-wrapped hand to brush against her wrist.

"A planned acquisition. Like you're another company he bought on a whim and not a precious angel," Clarice giggled. "What a doll... If you ever need a babysitter, Mister Wayne, please don't hesitate to call me!"

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, exasperated but smiling good-naturedly. "Have a great day, Clarice."

"You, too! Bye-bye, angel!" She waved, and squealed when you waved back.

Bruce disappeared into his office with you, bouncing you gently on one arm while the other shrugged off the duffel bag he carried with him. Zipping it open, he quickly tugged out a pop-up bassinet to place you in, then the pieces to an enclosed play pen he built and filled with some blankets, a couple toys, and an extra Red Robin binky (Tim got to the toys first this morning).

"Okay," he sighed, scooping you up and relocating you to the pen. "I've actually got to run my own company for a bit, and the others are busy, so you get to hang out with me today."

Bruce rested his arm on his desk, then his chin in his hand, and stared down at you. You were staring intently back at him, the binky bopping up and down as you suckled on it.

"You're a little young to learn the ropes, but I'll explain what I'm doing anyway. Every baby book I've looked at tells me you get something out of it even if you don't understand what I'm saying, so today it's time to do payroll. I'd make you sign an NDA, because you're about to see a lot of personal files, but you don't know how to hold a pencil, read, write, or speak yet, so I think we're fine."

Bruce had two monitors on his desk. He duplicated his screen and spun the other one around so you could watch what he was doing in real time.

"I don't like to delegate this task to other people because the last six times I did, they were eventually found embezzling money. Unfortunately, that tends to happen when you live in Gotham. Right now I've opened the pay software — it's this icon here, where the mouse is circling — and I'm going to ask it to open the time sheets for the last two weeks..."

---

A NEW FAMILY MEMBER? BRUCE WAYNE SPOTTED IN WAYNE TOWER WITH INFANT, SPECULATION GROWING

CEO of Wayne Enterprises Bruce Wayne seen with a baby after exiting his office this afternoon!

[An image of you in your Nightwing onesie, tucked securely in a smiling Bruce's arms as he walks out of an elevator, is printed on the front page of the Gotham Gazette.]

Sources say Wayne filed another adoption form with the courts a week ago and is being met with mixed reviews. Large portions of the public are joking that Wayne has an "adoption problem" while others speculate he is too inexperienced to foster an infant.

"Wasn't his youngest kid, like, 9 when he adopted him?" Asks one Carmine Falconi, recently released from Blackgate on good behavior. "None o' my business, of course, but I don't think he knows how to raise a tiny tot like that. My guys ain't touchin' a hair on that one's head, though. Kidnapping the odd teen or two, sure, go nuts, but even us crooks got codes, and that one's off-limits in my book."

Wayne declined to comment when the Gotham Gazette reached out and remaining family have further refused interviews about the subject.

(Alfred got to the phone first.)

---

The newspaper clipping was already framed and proudly sitting on the dining room table when Bruce woke up the next morning and shuffled downstairs for breakfast with you in his arms. He spared it a tired glance, put you in your high chair, and relented to Damian's insistent shoving so the boy could sit next to and feed you (he got to the pantry first).

"The next time you plan on actually doing your day job," the boy hissed, "bring one of us with you. There was an abysmal amount of security protocols you ignored when leaving work to allow paparazzi the chance to grab photos. I won't let your frivolous behavior cause them harm."

"Are you volunteering?" Bruce asked, gratefully accepting the mug of coffee Alfred handed over. He quietly greeted Dick and Jason as they filed into the room and had a quick rock-paper-scissors match to see who got to sit on your other side. Jason won. "Any networking events I have to attend, you almost always find a way to weasel out of."

"If it will keep our new charge safe," Damian huffed, "I can handle a few stupid luncheons."

"That's not a pass to skip school. If it's between a social or a class, you're going to class."

Damian looked simultaneously pissed and relieved. His fist clenched tightly around the small, silicone spoon, before he forced himself to relax and continue feeding you. You opened your mouth obediently for another offering of mushed-up bananas, apples, and cinnamon baby food from a high quality brand, giving a happy hum.

"Then the duty falls to one of you fools," he snapped at Jason and Dick, "which is akin to trusting a mosquito not to drink from you at the first possible opportunity. You'll pick up the slack when I'm otherwise indisposed."

"No can do, baby bat," Dick said, pouring himself a bowl of cereal and scrolling through his phone. He quickly snapped a picture of you with your mouth open to accept another spoonful of food. "I have a day job, too. I don't even live here. I'm just on an extended vacation until the end of next week, then it's back to Blüdhaven."

Damian focused his glare on Jason next, who smirked back and shook his head.

"Legally dead. So, 'less you want Brucie Wayne and an innocent baby seen all around town with Red Hood, the crime lord, it's a no from me."

Damian weighed the pros and cons. Bruce shot him a look and shook his head, dismissing the idea entirely.

The boy grit his teeth. He scraped the last of the baby food from its jar and fed it to you, then delicately wiped the remnants from your mouth. You gummed at his finger and made grabby hands, indicating your desire to get out of the high chair. Jason scooped you up first with a swift call of "dibs!", carrying you away to get bathed and dressed for the day.

"Then...then you have to go into work with Timothy!" Damian demanded, facing Bruce again, who had finished his coffee by now and was eating a slice of buttered toast. The man raised a brow, looking only marginally more awake than he was at the start of the day.

"Tim hates being at the office with me," Bruce explained as Alfred came around to set a plate of pancakes, eggs, and freshly-squeezed orange juice in front of Damian. "Says the Brucie act is annoying to be around and it drives productivity down at least 8% every time. It's a lie, I've checked the numbers, but if he doesn't want to be at the Tower at the same time as me then I'm not going to push a non-issue."

"You?" said Damian, incredulous. "You aren't going to push a non-issue? You push everything. It may as well be your middle name."

He cut into his food with more force than necessary, cutlery scraping unpleasantly against the plate until he lifted his hands again. He shrugged off the hand Bruce tried to place on his shoulder, chewing angrily on a mouthful of pancake.

"I'm open to ideas, son," the man said, "but here are the facts: You have to go to school Monday through Friday. I won't let you homeschool because you need to socialize with people in your age group. Jason isn't interested in declaring himself alive right now. Dick doesn't live at the Manor full time and has separate responsibilities. Tim is juggling college, Wayne Enterprises, and patrols. Alfred is too ol— is aging gracefully, and might prefer to have more time to himself instead of watching the baby all alone for hours on end."

Alfred took Bruce's empty plate away with a very sharp look, then excused himself back to the kitchen.

Bruce turned in his chair to fully face Damian, who glared at his breakfast like it personally caused this mess, and not one hyper-empathetic man and his bleeding heart for orphans.

"Now, can you tell me how best to solve this problem without the occasional "take your kid to work day," or enrolling the baby in a daycare program?"

Yes, he could. But unfortunately for Damian, he had inherited a bleeding heart of his own, which constricted at the thought of giving his little sibling back up for adoption. Instead, he swallowed his next mouthful of food and sighed.

"More research is needed," he mumbled, which was the closest he could ever get to admitting he didn't know something. "However, my complaints still stand. Let the paparazzi get a bad photo if it means keeping the babe safe. Their well-being is your top priority, so act like it."

"Heard," Bruce said, sounding far too fond for Damian's liking. "Finish your breakfast and then get ready for school."

The boy grumbled but complied, and soon stood next to the door waiting for Alfred to pull a car up to the driveway. He watched Bruce carry you in his arms after he slung the duffel bag with your essentials over his shoulder, tugging the small hood of your red oneside up (Jason dressed you first today) over your head to ensure you didn't get cold.

"Have a good day, Damian," Bruce told him.

"Sure, whatever." Damian took you from his father and adjusted your hood himself. You grabbed his finger in your small fist with all the strength you could muster and tried to put it in your mouth. He gently pried it free, and Bruce popped a Batman binky in there instead. "You will be safe today. When I'm finished conforming to what American society deems a proper education, I will retrieve you myself."

Your binky bopped up and down as you suckled on it, staring silently at Damian. It was practically a yes to him, so he took it.

Glancing briefly at his father, he hesitated a moment, then kissed your forehead and quickly passed you back to Bruce before heading outside to let Alfred drive him to school.

Bruce watched him go with an unreadable expression. He quickly turned and faced Dick once Damian was out of earshot.

"Did you —"

"I'm texting you the picture right now," Dick said, thumbs flying across the keyboard. "What should the caption be for my Twitter post? #BestBrotherEver or #SecretSofty?"

"Either way, he's going to kick your ass."

[yougavememyopia]

Continuation of this. A bit suggestive at the end.

Loser yandere was on his knees, begging for forgiveness. He got ahead of himself. Sucking your fingers like a perverted freak. He looked up at you with glassy eyes, pouting just slightly. He didn't mind your pity. In fact, he wanted it. The worst he made himself look, the more you let things pass.

You sighed, ultimately having no choice but to forgive him. He looked so sad, so lonely. Like a stray puppy begging for attention. Why wouldn't you spare his feelings? He had no real friends. It made sense that he didn't know how to act properly.

Except he did. He was just manipulating you, saying the right things to make you cave and hang out with him. He would speak with a certain depressed tone that would melt your heart, and when you agreed, he would become extremely happy. Cheering and overreacting. A great excuse to excitedly hug you. Throw his arms around your shoulders and get lost in your scent.

He was strangely smart. Using both negative and positive reinforcement. Getting you to say yes to avoid making him sad, and making you feel content by his contagious smile. All part of his plan that'll eventually end with you two happily engaged.

Even if that strategy didn't work, he'd just whine and beg. He knew you couldn't take it. You would glare at him, and he'd feel a strange sensation through his body. Sometimes, he wondered how being hit by you would feel like. Or maybe with your hand wrapped around his throat.

Given how much he bothered you, it was a miracle you were still friends with him. It wasn't all that bad. You somehow had fun hanging around with him, laughing at his silly jokes. He'd take you to so many places. Always making sure you were enjoying your time so you'd come back for more!

When you weren't in public, he'd get clingy. It was obvious he was touch-starved and a big attention seeker. He wanted to have you touch him, get close to him, and pay attention to him. Only him.

"I can't get this stupid button undone... Can you help me take this shirt off? Come onnn, it's way too hot in this room..."

"Look how good I smell. Come on, sniff my neck. It's a new thing I bought. It smells like your favorite!"

"I'm so hungry, and my hands are all tired. Ughh.. Can you feed me a snack? I'll open my mouth wide for you. Aaah~"

He'd still bug you about the kiss. Not ever talking about the incident afterwards. Those few months of reinforcement should've made you softer to him. He should've been able to get you to agree. But you stayed determined to deny him.

"I want a kiss already... Why can't you, my bestest friend, show me how it feels~? All of these movies have one. I'm being reminded of how much of a loser I am every single day." He grumpily said to himself as you both watched a weird horror movie. The scared couple on the screen made out to relieve their stress... or something. It was a strange movie he (purposely) picked.

"Can't you fucking understand?! It'll change this whole relationship. I told you that a million times." You crossed your arms, darting your gaze from the movie to him.

He sighed. You sighed. Then you exchanged a look. "Alright. Fine. You're not gonna stop asking, are you? Just promise me you won't act all awkward after it."

He lit up, nodding eagerly. "Really?! Oh, wow! Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You're the best! Seriously. A life saver~"

"Shut it." You groaned, watching the last bits of the movie with the characters escaping.

"Yes, ma'am. You got it." He climbed on your lap. That made you stiff a bit, looking at him with a confused look. He set his legs on your sides, his arms wrapping around your neck. "How is this gonna work? Can you please do it very slowly?"

"Eh...? Okay. Whenever you're ready." You wrapped your arm around his waist, not knowing what else to do with them. He hummed happily. His face came closer to you, and somehow, you felt nervous. You shrugged it off, letting him kiss you at his own pace.

"Here I go..." he whispered, his nose rubbing against yours.

He pressed a small peck on your lips as if to test out how it feels. Before you could correct him, he kissed you again. This time longer and harder. You squeaked at the suddenness, forced to lean back against the couch as he began to lick your lips, asking for entry.

You reluctantly opened your mouth, and he wasted no time. Pushing his tongue inside your mouth. Lapping at anything he could find. Your tongue brushed against each other, eliciting a moan from him. His hand held the back of your head to keep you from pulling away. Shifting a bit on your lap, whimpering against your lips.

He kept licking your tongue, sucking on it. He moaned again when you finally returned the kiss. His movements were clumsy, making it easier for you to take control. After a minute, he pulled away, panting as he buried his face into your neck. He seemed embarrassed, and so you hugged his waist tighter.

He moaned against your neck. "Ah.. that felt so nice. Mmh, shit..."

"Yeah... you got a little ahead of yourself, y'know. It was supposed to be a simple kiss. I never said tongue was allowed." You pointed out. Rolling your eyes, because you knew he didn't care.

"You never said it wasn't." He sat up to look you, tilting his head innocently. "I would've listened to you if you said it."

"No, you wouldn't have." You mumbled.

"You also didn't say I can't go for another one~!" He leaned in again and captured your lips in another kiss. You protested, hands gripping his shoulders now to push him away. He whined, sucking your lips as if that would change your mind. "But, please, just one more. I still haven't learned the proper technique yet."

You were beginning to understand that he had a different reason for overstepping boundaries. The way he kissed you, the way he tried to savor your taste, the way his pressed his body against yourself. It was like he was trying to devour you. Trying to be one with you.

He moaned loudly when he pulled away. His body was shaking a bit, his eyes dilating. Something pressed against your stomach. You didn't need to look down to see what it was. "Um... Oops?"

[lowkeyerror]

Ours Together

Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal

Word count: 3.6k

Notes: Spoilers for Agatha All Along (entire series), Angsty, hurt/comfort (ig), Happy ending, Familiar!Reader, Familiar lore for this: They are weakened when away from the witch they are connected with, being with the witch amplifies powers, think of the familiar here as some mythical creature close to a witch but not exactly

Summary: When Agatha and coven summon a Green Witch to the road, they're surprised to be met with 2 people instead of 1. You yourself we're surprised and disappointed to be trapped with Rio and Agatha

An: Another one so soon... they're on my mind

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

“Uh who is that?”

The coven was so distracted by Agatha’s reaction to Rio, that no one saw you struggling to climb out of the ground behind her.

“I’m Y/n, and I could use some assistance,” you say stretching out your hand.

Teen and Alice are the one’s that eventually help you out of the ground.

“I though we only summoned one witch,” Jen eyes you skeptically.

“I'm sorry what?”

You take in your surroundings frowning at the darkness. Your frown grows even larger when you spot Rio and Agatha.

“We're on the witch's road and-”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “Beg pardon?”

“The witch’s road it’s-”

You shake your head, “Not real.”

“Then explain this sweetheart?” Agatha speaks and you glare at her.

“You of all people know that the road is a scam,” your jaw clenches as you speak to her.

“You’re more feisty than I remember, pet,” her voice keeps a teasing aura around it.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap at her, voice echoing, with your eyes being absorbed black.

The outburst makes everyone except Rio and Agatha jump back.

“Now, now ladies play nice,” Rio interjects.

“Send me home, now,” you speak to her.

Rio tilts her head, “I think I to want to stay awhile, just to see how things turn out.”

You groan and move to walk in the back of the pack. Agatha refocuses the group and they continue to move forward.

You watch as Rio attempts to rile up Agatha. You see the woman in purple stiffen a few times, throwing her hands around wildly. It makes you want to laugh, centuries pass, but her mannerisms stay easy to read.

Once Rio has had enough of Agatha she trails to the end of group by your side.

“Long time no see hot stuff,” she tries.

“Not long enough,” you shoot back at her.

Rio pouts, “I thought you came along to be reunited.”

“You know I have to go with you if you're summoned liked that,” you mumble mostly to yourself.

“Oh that's right, because we’re fated for each other,” Rio says dreamily.

“Because I'm your familiar,” you correct her.

She shrugs, “Same thing.”

You redirect the conversation, “Why haven't we left yet? You know as well as I do that this is not real.”

Her eyes shift to the ground, “You haven't missed her? Even a little?”

You inhale sharply, “Of course I have, but I respect her wanting nothing to do with us. Rio, we can never undo what we did to her.”

“It wasn't our fault,” her fist clench at her sides.

You guard drops for a moment. Your hand finds it’s way into her grip.

“I know,” you speak solemnly.

“Sometimes I wish-”

You squeeze her hand, “Don’t you dare. I loved him, you loved him, and she loved him.”

“I don’t understand why she let’s people think those things about her.”

“If there’s one thing Agatha still cares about, it’s her image. That’s one of the few marks on her life where she’s soft and no one can know that,” you whisper.

You feel Rio's eyes lingering on you, “I’ve missed you.”

“I don't want to do this here,” you refuse to look at her.

“Well this is the only chance I’ve gotten with either of you in a long time. I don’t want to waste it,” Rio shifts her gaze ahead of her.

“And who’s fault is that Rio?”

You attempt to take your hand out of her's, but she doesn't let you. You let out an irritated sigh.

“With you, it’s my fault. I’m sorry I pushed you away.”

You didn't think you'd ever hear Death apologize. It was unexpected and you didn't know how to respond. You wanted to forgive her, but was this all she had to do to regain your trust?

“Did you know it hurts physically to keep my distance from you? As your familiar I’m supposed to stay relatively close to you. When I’m not it’s like my body is burning inside. I had to get used to that feeling after you kicked me out of your life. This is the first time in over 2 centuries that I'm not in pain.”

“I thought you would’ve come back,” she says it with more sorrow than sarcasm.

“Why would I, when it felt like you didn't want me?”

Your eyes lock on Agatha’s figure, “I wasn’t enough for you, either of you.”

Rio stops walking, “You were enough. You are enough. I became obsessed with finding Agatha and it sent me down a darker path than I realized. I wanted to find her so desperately that I let it affect things between us.”

You finally meet her eyes, “I loved her too. I feel like you always forgot, that my heart beats for her. That I belong to her just like I belong to you. I was already hurting then and then you-”

“Let’s move it losers the next trial is waiting,” Agatha says from the entrance of a house, that was not there before.

You finally free your hand from Rio's, “Forget it.”

You walk faster hoping to avoid anymore of this conversation. You go through the door and when you do it’s like you're in the 70’s.

The rest of the coven finds a mirror to check out their wardrobe. Teen points out a potential way to trigger the task and then they disperse. Leaving only you, Agatha, and Rio.

“Well don’t you look good enough to eat, sweetheart,” Agatha comes up behind you.

You turn getting ready to say something snarky, but your eyes are immediately drawn to the low cut of her shirt. The exposed skin looking better than you had remembered it. You begin to wonder if it still felt soft too.

“Boo,” Rio pops up behind Agatha.

You notice that Rio’s shirt also has a deep v cut. It makes you chuckle a bit.

“What’s so funny?” Agatha says, clearly annoyed by Rio’s presence.

“I just think it’s funny the road gave you matching deep V’s.”

Rio chimes in, “It’s because we go together. Don’t we, Agatha?”

“No,” Agatha walks away after that.

You see Rio briefly deflate and you place a hand on her shoulder, “You’ll get her champ.”

“And you?” She looks at you in only the way that she can. Doe eyes, warmth & sorrow mixed together, pleading for the best outcome.

“I’m your familiar, Rio. Eventually it’s in my best interest to come back to you,” you reply and try to walk off.

“You are my love, Y/n. More than you’re my familiar,” her words stop you.

“Good to know,” is all you can manage to say before walking off.

You look around a bit, wondering exactly how this was all possible. You knew that road wasn't real, so where were you? What was this, and how did Agatha manage to get others to do this with her?

You notice after awhile Agatha and Rio are missing. Against your better judgment you look for them. You find them in what looks like a producer’s area. They’re stood next to each other talking about the glory days.

You don’t interfere until you see Agatha’s hand slide across the intercom. Before Rio can fall into Agatha’s poorly executed trap, you clear your throat interrupting the conversation.

You walk over cautiously, and fit yourself in-between the pair, effectively moving Agatha away from the intercom.

“Planning a character assassination so soon, Agatha? What’s the rush?”

Rio’s eyes land on the intercom and she laughs, “Clever as the day we met.”

“I see you’re taking her side again,” Agatha says pointedly.

“I never took sides and you know that,” you fire back at her.

Agatha scoffs, “Well you came out of the dirt together so…”

“You know how the summoning work Agatha, don’t play dumb,” you counter.

Agatha throws her hands up in exasperation, “So what, I’m supposed to believe that you two haven’t been living it up together this whole time.”

“Why do you think I was alone when I came to see Agnes?” Rio interjects.

Agatha stumbled for a moment, “Because it would’ve been weird to have another person with you in my show.”

“I haven’t seen Rio in close to 300 years,” you admit.

“ Boo hoo poor baby. That doesn’t have anything to do with me,” Agatha mocks you.

Your voice takes on an echo again, “IT HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH YOU! YOU LEFT ME!”

Your argument is interrupted by some loud distorted sound. It makes you cover your ears and close your eyes. You gather around Teen who played the record as a clue. The room begins to spin backwards like the record and the sound intensifies.

Agatha smashes the record player on the ground which immediately stops the song.

Lilia speaks up, “We’ve been cursed.”

Its only a matter of seconds before she screeches and hits the floor.

You see this and start muttering under your breath. Alice springs into action taking Rio’s knife and carving a circle around Lilia.

You keep chanting to yourself. Everyone but Agatha and Rio were concerned around Lilia.

“What are you doing?” Agatha questions, but you just keep chanting.

Your fingertips glow dully as you touch them to your shoulders.

“I am protecting myself,” you say once you’re finished.

Jen gets hit next and once again Alice draws a circle around her. Teen also gets attacked, being flung through the glass mirror. Alice reveals that the curse is hers after that. It’s generational, meaning that it is harder to expel than most.

“We have to sing the ballad,” Agatha says.

She goes back and forth with Alice before they come to an agreement. Everyone picks up and instrument except you. You sit as an audience member.

“What, you’re too cool to play?” Jen asks.

“You don’t need me to play, so I’m not playing,” you shoot back.

Teen tries to encourage you, “The more people we have, the easier this might be.”

Your eyes are engulfed by black once more and your voice echoes dangerously , “I’m not playing that song.”

Agatha can’t help but look at Rio in that moment. The pair are the only ones who know why you aren’t interested in singing the song.

“Let’s just start,” Agatha begins singing before anymore arguments could be made.

You hate what has become of the song. Nicky’s sweet song, was now the witch killer’s anthem. You felt like it was disgraceful. It hurt you even more when Agatha did nothing to stop the song from becoming some rock anthem. Finding out that Lorna used it to protect her own daughter softened the blow a little bit, but not entirely.

Watching them preform you notice Teen wincing while holding the guitar. Your eyes scan his body looking for indicators of injury. It’s not highly noticeable, but you spot blood seeping through his side.

Against your own beliefs you stand and begin to walk over to him. You sing the tune lowly under your breath, before taking the guitar from him.

You can see he wants to argue but you nod your head towards the seating area. Your eyes drop to his side to let him know, that you know that he’s hurt.

He looks annoyed, but takes a seat anyway opting to just sing the ballad instead.

Your eyes lock with Rio’s and you glance towards the kid. She shakes her head slightly and you focus on playing the song.

Once Alice defeats her curse, Teen is laid across the sitting area. His breathes are shallow. Agatha is the first to rush over to him.

“He’s bleeding we got to get him out of here.”

You all take him back to the road and lay him across a large stone. You sit back with Rio watching the group panic. The most panic being evident in Agatha.

She turns to Rio, “Don’t.”

The woman beside you makes no gesture. Agatha starts pleading with Jen to fix it.

“She needs water and moonlight,” you speak up.

It seems to give the potions witch an idea. Alice gathers the water and Jen starts chanting in the moonlight. She pours the water over Teen’s injury and it starts to close up.

Agatha’s gaze falls upon you and Rio once more. Before she goes to help move Teen.

“You’re here for him, why?” You ask the woman beside you.

“That’s not his body. I can’t just-”

You shake your head, “You can. So why don’t you want to?”

“Once is already pushing the limit, but to let him get away with it twice. It’s not fair, it’s unbalanced,” Rio argues.

“What is 2 souls to the hundreds of thousands that perish daily? You have William and you will have the other. You and I both know that you don’t need the body to reap the soul.”

She sits quietly, no reply on her tongue.

“I think you’re here because Agatha is here,” you say.

She glares at you and speaks through gritted teeth, “Does it not bother you that she walks down this road with another woman’s son pretending that he’s ours? She knows he’s not.”

You look at the ground.

“I know you hate it, just like you hate what they did to his song,” Rio pushes further.

“Grief is different for everyone. Agatha is still grieving and I don't think she’ll ever stop. I can’t blame her, I grieve him every day. I know you do too,” you speak softly, getting up from your spot.

You leave her with those words. Maybe you shouldn’t seek her out, but you look for Agatha.

You come across the camp set up before you find Agatha.

“Do you have any scars Y/n?” Lilia is the one to ask.

You take a seat around the fire.

“A bunch, physical and emotional,” you lift your shirt.

There's a long scar that goes diagonally across your stomach. Your finger caresses it gently.

“Jesus Christ,” Alice says.

“It’s fairly new,” you keep your eyes on the scar.

“What happened?” Lilia speaks gently.

It’s then that Agatha and Rio join the circle. They sit on either side of you, both looking at the scar.

“Got captured by some witches. They tried to kill me, harvest my organs, etc.”

“How did you get captured?” Agatha asks, not really believing your story.

Your leg starts to bounce a little, “Well, I wasn’t with anyone else and I hadn’t been around… the people I need for my power to be at my strongest. So I was weak in that sense.”

“How did you escape?” Jen asks.

You shook your head, “I got lucky. They got bored eventually because I um- I can’t really die. They ‘left me for dead’ so to speak, but Death never came for me.”

“You’re immortal?” Alice deadpans.

“No one is immortal, I’m just really hard to kill. I have an intense healing factor,” you admit.

“Then why the scars?”

You keep your gaze low, “Because I didn't have my full power. I had enough to close and heal the wound, but the longer I was there the harder it was to make them pretty.”

You hate the silence that follows.

You hear Agatha roll up her sleeve. She gives a one liner about some coven that she wiped out. It’s funny and everyone laughs. You can see it takes her by surprise and it puts a small smile on your face.

“I have scar,” Rio starts.

“No you don't,” you and Agatha say at the same time.

“Yes, I do,” Rio goes on to describe the most fragile parts of your relationship .

She’s vague but you can hear the hurt in her voice. She finishes the story, but doesn’t look at Agatha.

Agatha storms off first, Rio trailing behind her, and you hesitate but ultimately end up following Rio.

Agatha stands with her back towards the both of you. Rio chooses to stay behind her while you walk around to face her.

Agatha’s head lulls back onto Rio’s shoulder. One of her hands snakes it’s way under your shirt, running the path of the scar. You keep close to her, but don’t move.

She puckers her lips as if to kiss Rio. You can see the fight inside of the original green witch. She wants this so badly, but she must push.

You do it for her. Your hands gently grab Agatha’s face pulling her towards you. You close your eyes as your forehead rests against hers.

“My love, Teen is not-”

“I know,” she whispers, and she starts to pull away.

“Please,” you hold her in place. “Please, let me have you close for a second. Both of you.”

It had been centuries since the three of you were this close. The raging fire inside of you finally resting after all this time. The relief that spread through your body was like a cooling agent.

Rio and Agatha both take notice for the first time, realizing how tense you had been since your appearance on the road.

“How long did they keep you?”

“Some years,” you answer quietly.

Agatha whips around to stare at Rio, “Where were you?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Rio redirects the blame.

“I left her with you so -”

“SHE WASN’T SOMETHING TO BE LEFT!” Rio let’s out an outburst. She takes a deep breath before continuing, “She is our familiar. Not mine, not yours, but ours together Agatha. It hurts her to be apart from either of us.”

“What did you want me to do? Forget what you did to my son?”

“OUR SON,” Rio’s voice booms louder than you ever heard it before. You swear the entire road shakes with the reverb.

You move forward to put a hand on Rio’s shoulder. You can feel her shaking with emotion. At first you think it’s anger, but then you see her tears fall.

“He was our son too Agatha. I didn’t want you to forgive me, I’ve never forgiven myself. I wanted you to mourn with me, with Y/n. I wanted us to have each other because we needed it.,” It’s defeated when Rio says it.

“I did mourn,” Agatha argues back.

“No, you didn’t,” you interrupt them, but your eyes were far away.

“How would you know you weren't there?” Agatha retaliates.

You sigh, “You act like I didn't want to be there. Like I was the one running and hiding. I know you haven't mourned because we wouldn’t be here if you had. We all know that this is not real. You’re singing his song… walking this road with this boy that you want to be him.”

“You can't deny my grief.”

“He asked you not to. You promised him, Aggie. It was his last promise.” Your voice cracks as your tears begin to form. “And you didn’t just break it, you took his song. Our song… and you used it to do the one thing he begged you not to.”

By this point you were choking on your sobs. The sight of you broke Agatha’s heart.

“I was grieving, I was angry, and I was alone!”

You fight her again, “You didn't have to be alone!”

“Well we can't go back and fix that, now can we?”

You groan, “No, but we can move forward if you just stop running.”

Rio stops the argument, “Enough! Y/n, she doesn’t care about us. The only person she cares about is herself.”

Agatha lets her anger out, shoving the green witch, “That’s bullshit.”

Rio shoves her back, “Is it now?”

Agatha spears Rio to the ground, “You know that I love both of you. That I care for you more than I’ve cared about anything other than my- our son.”

Rio flips their position so that she’s on top of Agatha, “Then why are we fighting?”

Agatha’s chest heaves up and down; Rio’s moves nearly the same. Agatha's hand reaches up to caress Rio’s face. At that same moment Rio leans in.

They kiss. You gasp , not at all expecting things to turn so quickly. A smile of relief coats your face as you watch them. You feel a pleasant warmth spreading across your chest.

“I love you,” Agatha says against Rio’s lips.

Rio smiles, “I love you too.”

“Finally,” you say exasperatedly, causing them both to laugh.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch like a weirdo or are you going to come over, pet?” Agatha says.

You roll your eyes, but continue to make your way over to them, “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

When you’re close enough Rio pulls you into her quickly stealing a kiss from you. You blush at her brash affection. You try to hide your face in her neck, but Agatha’s finger hooks under your chin.

“What do you suppose I call you then?”

You lean into her grasp, “Yours.”

Her lips graze yours as she speaks, “Mine.”

Your lips meet hers fiercely. She pulls you from Rio's lap fully onto hers. Instead of sliding up your shirt like before her hands travel lower. The feel on her fingers causes you to moan lowly, the sound echoing as your eyes filled with black.

“Not here, not yet,” you feel Rio’s breath tickling your neck.

You whine, “Centuries apart and still teasing.”

Agatha let out a hearty laugh, “Let’s get back to the others.”

Agatha and Rio are up first, helping you to your feet. You walk between them, feeling whole for the first time in a long time. Rio’s hand is in yours, while Agatha runs her fingers through your hair.

You still had things to work out amongst each other. One talk or a kiss cannot fix everything you’ve all been through. Yet talking and kisses amongst the three of you are known to be promises. Promises of a better future united together.