#so he doesn’t really know how to recognize it in ways that aren’t spoken or his silent communication with Johnny

[made-my-peace-with-all-the-bad]

I feel like we don’t really talk enough about the things Dally does to show that he cares about Ponyboy too. We know that he cares about Johnny a ton because Ponyboy talks about it a lot, but he also does so much to remind Ponyboy that he’s loved and cared about

[sleepymarimo]

➛ had some quick thoughts w toji and a barista!reader who works at a popular spot in tokyo

the first time you meet him, he’s getting his coffee paid for by a woman who looks a few years older than him. she exudes an aura of utter luxury, from her neatly painted nails to her leather purse.

he orders a coffee, black, giving you a glance, and that’s about it.

you don’t think much about the exchange, not really. so many customers come in to grab coffee, so another face isn’t a big deal.

yet, you start to notice him more and more. sometimes he comes in every week, maybe every other week, or a couple times a day- you never know. those deep green eyes and that rugged scar over his lip start to stand out to you, along with the company he brings in.

there seems to be a new woman with him each time. some are older, some are younger. they’re of all shapes and sizes, each with their own quirks.

and? they pay for him each time, without fail. you don’t even know his name, as his (what you assume to be) dates use their names for orders.

he starts to recognize you, too. his eyes pick up on something new each time, whether it be your new uniform or the stickers on your name tag. he comes when you’ve just opened, comes when you’re about to clock out.

when his dates happen to be particularly rude or fussy, he gives you a look that says “don’t ask.”

it gets to a point where you put in his order before he even reaches the front of the line.

you unknowingly become somewhat of a constant in his tumultuous life, and he doesn’t know if he likes it or not.

then, one day he comes in all by himself.

your fingers tap tap tap on your tablet, putting in an order for a single black coffee. there’s an awkward sort of tension as he stands before you, like you’re a stranger and acquaintance at the same time.

“hey,” he greets, picking up on how you look behind him, seeing if he’s brought in another woman. “just me today.”

you nod, pretending to start his order as if it’s not already inputted. “oh, okay! and to drink?”

a smirk grows on his face, a spark of challenge, of interest, in his eyes that you didn’t see with any other of the women he’s came in with. “you already know,” he speaks, confident.

ignoring how your cheeks warm, you smile and get out a laugh, looking away. “black coffee, got it,” you respond, thinking to yourself that this is the most you’ve spoken to him. “anything else?”

he clears his throat, reaching for a wad of cash tucked away in his pocket. “yeah,” comes his voice, deep, almost a rumble, a smidge of reluctance. “whatever ya want. y’er off in a few, aren’t ya? i was thinkin’ we could grab a table. talk.”

and maybe it’s your curiosity. or maybe you’re flattered by the fact that he’s actually paying for your coffee.

either way, you give him a smile and put in your order. “yeah, i’m just about done,” you reply, starting to feel excited for your chat with him. “and the name for the order?”

he’s pleased, a glimmer of satisfaction in his gaze as he hands you a few bills. “toji.”

[awakenedsalamander]

This is gonna be a long walk. But I’ll get there. I promise.

In a lot of Chronicles of Darkness games, there are “minor templates” for players to take for their characters. These are basically lesser types of supernatural beings— undeniably marked by magic, but not transformed by it like the main templates are. So instead of being a werewolf, you might be a Wolf-Blooded, i.e., not the monster your stronger cousins are, but still recognizably having a connection to that world.

Again, a bunch of games have these. Mage has Sleepwalkers (and Proximi), Vampire has ghouls, Geist has the Absent, Demon has stigmatics, etc.

In Changeling: The Lost, there are the Fae-Touched. We’ll get to them in a bit. First, more on Lost.

In Lost, like many stories about faeries, oaths and vows are very important. They are, in the form of magical Contracts, the source of many fae powers. Changeling have a neat ability to make any spoken promise binding, invoking the force of the Wyrd to force even minor vows to be taken seriously. And many changelings are taken by the True Fae by getting ensnared in some kind of oath.

See, if you didn’t know, Changeling: The Lost is about humans taken to the home of the True Fae, and then transformed into changelings as the True Fae torment them. The game is very much about the way trauma changes a person, and how even recovering from trauma still doesn’t bring you back to the way you were— you’re healed, but you’re not the same.

And much like trauma changes a person, it isolates them too. Lost represents this in the fiction with fetches— the faerie-forged simulacra left behind in the stolen person’s wake, acting the roles of parent, sibling, friend, and so on while the original person is actually suffering with no escape.

But the Fae-Touched won’t stand for that.

Because while Changeling: The Lost recognizes that many promises aren’t serious, that when people swear, “I’ll always be there for you,” they don’t always live up to that, it also recognizes that some promises are different.

The Fae-Touched are the mortals who remember the words they swore, and will not ignore them. They can tell, in their dreams, through the nagging impulses they get in their waking moments, that the person they promised to help needs them now more than ever. They are lead by the Wyrd into the land of faerie to live up to that promise, and they follow it gladly.

A Fae-Touched is the father who knows the smiling fetch who claims to be his daughter isn’t the real thing, and that somewhere the girl he swore to protect is in mortal danger— and so he delves into a world of dreams and nightmares to bring her back.

A Fae-Touched is the woman who fights off briar wolves in a mad, twisting forest so she can find her wife, because when she said “I will never abandon you,” she meant it.

A Fae-Touched is the young man staring down a Lord of the True Fae and refusing to yield. He and his brother went through hell together years ago when their parents died, and they promised one another then that they’d always stand by each other, and some monster in a crown can’t change that.

Not every changeling is helped by a Fae-Touched, and not all of the Fae-Touched succeed. Sometimes you have to claw your own way back home. But God, what a beautiful concept.

I know that Changeling: The Lost is very dark, and the reason I love the Fae-Touched isn’t really because they’re the light to that darkness— I think that simplifies it too much.

I like the Fae-Touched not because they take away the darkness, but because they remind me we don’t always have to face the darkness alone.

Sometimes, when you think there’s no point going on, when you think it will just be the pain and the fear again and again and again… it’s not true. Because sometimes, maybe even more often than we think, there’s someone out there who knows you need help. And they ready themselves, they set out into the darkness, saying only,

“This is gonna be a long walk. But I’ll get there. I promise.”

[thetarttfuldickhead]

He hasn’t heard much from his dad in the past year, but two goals for England and the texts start coming again.

---

He blocks his dad’s number, once, twice, another fucking time, but his father keeps getting new numbers or borrowing his mates’ phones or something and the messages keep coming.

He gives up on blocking them. What’s the fucking point?

He tries not to read the texts. He doesn’t always succeed, and he knows what they say anyway.

---

As the second game against City gets nearer the texts get longer and more frequent and nastier. Insistent. Calls too now, at all hours.

For a while, he can ignore it. Things are good. Called up for England, did well, Richmond is playing better than ever, he’s playing better than ever, there’s Roy and Keeley and the team, and Jamie’s feeling good.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Life can’t get too good, because when it does his dad will always come sniffing around, mean old stray looking for juiciest pieces of meat to sink his teeth into, always snapping, snapping, growling, biting, and this ain’t the sort of dog you can jut put down, is it?

Only way to keep it at bay is to never have anything it wants.

But fuck that, because Jamie’s worked fucking hard for this, his life, he’s fought for everything he has and he’s not going to let some nasty old sod ruin it for him or take it away.

So he ignores it, texts and calls and everything, and for a while he can.

---

In the end, it’s not even something in particular that gets to him. No escalation, no sudden appearance of James Tartt in the flesh, no broken beer bottles conspiciously dropped outside his door. In the end, it’s just coming back from his early morning session with Roy to another four missed calls and three drunken voice messages, and just like that, he’s done.  

He comes to practice wrapped in barbed wire, donning the old attitude like armour, and if asked he couldn’t even tell you why. Just seems easier, somehow.

---

They all see right through him, and he doesn’t know how to feel about that. Terrified. Stupid. Grateful. Known.

Cared for.

Roy still makes him run an extra ten laps after practice for being an arsehole to everyone instead of telling someone what was going on like you fucking should have, but then he squeezes his shoulder and brings him home to Keeley and makes them dinner while she helps him change his number and make sure everyone who needs to has the new one.

---

“We’ve spoken to City,” Ms. Welton – Rebecca – tells him. “They’ve agreed to ban Mr. Tartt from the premises for our upcoming game.”

The relief is a surprise; the intensity of it. He hadn’t realized until now how much the notion of his father being there had messed with him; his father, watching him, screaming, the sound of his name in that hateful mouth. Only now, when the threat is gone, does he recognize the severity of it.

---

When they news break they’re already on the way to Manchester. Colin is the first to notice and he curses softly and calls for Jamie and tells Isaac and then the whole coach knows.

The Sun: “Star Striker’s Dad Banned from City Game.”

And that’s his dad feigning a look of gentle devastation and it’s all about how Jamie’s money and fame has gone to his head, how he can’t even let his dad watch the game because he’s embarrassed of his humble beginnings, right shame, isn’t it, when people forget where they came from as soon as they make it big? Walked out on City after everything they put into him, didn’t he, and now he’s cutting ties with his family too just ‘cause they’re poor and not educated like, what sort of dickhead does that? “Kid’s turned his back on his roots, thinks he’s too good for us now.”

Manchester City declines to comment, other than to confirm that yes, at the request of AFC Richmond Mr. James Tartt will be prevented from attending the match. Nothing else they can say, really, not without revealing things that aren’t theirs to reveal.

The coach goes quiet, the way the dressing room had done at Wembley last year. Then they rally, anger and encouragements and just ignore it, man and it feels good and it makes him want to hide. He has no fucking idea what to say to them, except yeah, no, it’s some bullshit, yeah.

Ted and Beard huddle together, whispering furiously. Roy’s typing away at his phone, looking especially like he wants to murder someone. 

Sam, next to him, doesn’t say anything at all at first, just gives him a small nod. A few minutes later he offers, “My dad says to tell you good luck with the game, you’ll do great.”

And he should feel pathetic for finding comfort in that, maybe, but he doesn’t, much.

The game starts in a few hours. Long enough for everyone to have seen it by then, not long enough to put together a coherent response.

---

The boos and angry noise of the crowd is a furious buzzing in his ears and he squares his shoulders and eyes on the ball and the match is what fucking matters, everything else is just poopy, stupid fucking shit, doesn’t matter—

He plays like he means to outplay the devil himself. Plays like it would have been easy, had old Nick cared to show up.

The booing never stops, not even when Pep makes a point of coming over to him for a quick cuddle and few encouraging words after the final whistle.            

---

And they’re back in the dressing room after and the press is clamouring for a conference just a few doors down and Keeley’s driven all the way up from London and they’re all talking strategies and damage control and spinning the narrative and it’s doing his head in. All of them blabbering on and on and on and—

“Can we just tell them the fucking truth?”

That shuts them up. They all stare at him. Higgins is the first to speak. “Do you – do you want to do that?”

No, he doesn’t say. Of course I don’t wanna fucking do that. 

But the thing is, everyone that matters already knows, don’t they? So what’s the difference, really, with telling the whole fucking world?

It’s a huge fucking difference, something in him whispers.

He closes his eyes for a moment. Opens them again. All right. “Just think it’s the best thing to do, yeah?”

And there’s murmurs of agreement and Keeley’s looking at him like maybe she wants to cry and he can’t look at her looking like that so he looks away.

Roy catches his eyes. “You want me there with you?”

And yeah, he does want that and he’s too exhausted to pretend otherwise. “Yeah,” he says. “Thanks.”

---

“Are you ashamed of your father, Jamie?”

A moment, then, when it’s still not too late. He can still change his mind. He can still lie. No one has to know: he can still be the untouchable Jamie Tartt, confident and arrogant and never ever a victim.  

Fuck that.

“Yeah. I am.”

---

There’s no avoiding the snippets afterwards because they are fucking everywhere but he never watches the whole thing and so he’s not entirely clear on what he really says. Bits and pieces stay with him, though:  

��If I’d told ‘em here at City, my coaches and stuff, they’d have helped. I know they would have. But I was too fucking ashamed, yeah, so I never told anyone and I went off to do this stupid reality show instead and I did a whole bunch of stupid shit just ‘cause I was scared about people finding out about me and my dad. Never wanted anyone to know any of that shit.”

And:

“And I know, right, that there are people who’ll say I shouldn’t be in football if I can’t take a hit, like what the fuck am I gonna do when I’m tackled on the pitch and stuff. But that’s different, yeah? I fucking signed up for that. Didn’t sign up for my dad being a huge fucking dickhead, did I?”

And:

“I’m done being ashamed.”

---

There’s Roy too, near the end, and something about making it seem like aggression and violence is a normal thing and how that is part of the problem and how he’s going to do better from now on, and Jamie wants to tell him that, no, Roy has never been the problem, Jamie ain’t ever been scared of him, that’s really not it at all, but Roy does have a point too, doesn’t he, so Jamie keeps quiet.

---

“Was it all right?” he asks, afterwards, when the door’s closed to the press room and it’s just him and Roy and Keeley in the corridor.

“It was great,” Keeley tells him, stepping close to wrap her arms around him. “It was perfect.” Leaning back a little, she runs a hand over his cheek, “I’m really proud of you, Jamie.”

“Yeah, me too,” Roy says and his hug is just half a thing, one arm wrapped around Jamie’s shoulders and pulling him close, but it’s enough to relax into, to rest in.

Keeley’s looking at both of them like they hung the fucking stars.

“How about dinner?” she asks. “Don’t wanna drive all the way back tonight, think I’ll just get a hotel.”

“Yeah, I’m fucking starving,” Roy says.

And okay. He can’t be disappointed about that. Of course they’d want some time together. “Yeah, okay, yeah. Should be heading for the coach anyway. You have fun, yeah?”

The look they exchange is dismayed.

“No,” Roy says, sounding like he’s trying very hard not to sound angry. “You’re coming to dinner with us. Keeley will drive us back in the morning.”

“Unless you’d rather go back now with the rest of the team,” Keeley quickly adds, shooting Roy a pointed glare.

And oh. Okay. “No, yeah, dinner sounds good.”

---

They make him go say goodbye to the lads first, let them know you’re all right, and it’s still with him when they head out into the Manchester night, Colin’s arms around him and Sam’s quiet smile and Dani’s hands on his shoulders and Isaac’s muttered you’re gonna be okay, bruv.

He carries all of it with him, and it makes him feel light.

---

Coda:

“So, Roy,” Ted asks, leaning back into his office chair. ”Got any big plans for the break?”

“Keeley and I are trying for Marbella again. Only two weeks, she can’t be away from the firm any longer. Jamie’s joining us after he’s done with that football camp thing for disadvantaged kids.”

[puppetwoman17]

So I have this weird headcanon. And it’s definitely not true. And it’s got almost no merit to it. And I still like to think it’s real.

Basically, one or two apparitions show up to every location where there’s been a family tragedy, or if in that tragedy, a mystery hasn’t been solved. One of them is a man in a hat and trenchcoat, shrouded in shadows. The other is a woman in 1940s housewife garb, dress, gloves, and all. She’s always humming, but the song isn’t something anyone could recognize if they heard it. Very rarely will they both be there.

I think you can guess who they are.

They aren’t invisible to regular eyes. People see them. The truly hidden truth is WHY they’re there. Billy and Mary are the only people who know that reason. So whenever they see one or both of their parents in a seemingly normal place, their alarm bells go off. It comes to a point where they disregard all prior evidence and ignore how happy and normal everything looks, because if mom and/or dad is here, something is definitely wrong.

It doesn’t have to be just places on Earth too. Kal sees the shadow man in a picture he finds of past-Krypton, and doesn’t think anything of it. Months later, him and Kara reunite.

Bruce finds old camera footage of THAT alley. The one his parents died in. There’s a woman walking down it, paying no mind to how creepy it really looks. Anyone else would be running to get out, or being as quiet as a mouse, but doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. A year later, Bruce finds the identity of his parents’ killer.

They don’t see the signs. They dont think back on the oddness of these two people because how could they? They don’t know what to look for.

But Billy and Mary know. And they know why. Secrets and lies kept their family apart. It led to CC and Marilyn dying far away from each other. It led to Mary getting amnesia and knowing she had a family, but never knowing how to find them, or if they were even real. It led to Billy living the way he did and suffering through it all.

CC and Marilyn don’t want that to happen to anyone else, so that’s what they do. Places where mysteries aren’t solved and the dead can’t rest until something has been uncovered. They take it upon themselves to make that known, and they trust their children to recognize the signs. It took so long for Clark to find Kara and Bruce to find Joe Chill because they didn’t know.

The Justice League is more than curious about why Billy and Mary always manage to look past all the signs and think there’s something they’re missing. Billy being Billy, he keeps his mouth shut. The twins have never spoken about their parents out loud, afraid they might disappear if they do.

At some point, Batman being Batman, he puts the pieces together. Finds coincidences, the fact that the man in the trenchcoat always comes when a thievery involves magic(CC’s father found the Scorpion trinket, and like his dad, he sees protecting these objects like his responsibility).

Bruce makes the mistake of running at him. Of capturing his hand. Of not letting go.

And he sees it all. The pain of a man’s body being buried beneath soil and earth. Far away from his wife. Not knowing if she’s okay. Scared for his daughter’s life. Praying to every god there is that Billy is safe with his uncle.

The pain is excruciating. He knows he’s dying. He wants so desperately to feel his family in his arms, but they’re all so far away.

There are faces. A kind, lovely woman. A boy. A girl. The woman is on the ground and covered in her own blood. The girl is drugged and kicking and screaming in the backseat of a truck. A boy is kicking and screaming in the backseat of a police car. They are both kicking and screaming and you can hear them and you can’t help.

There’s the feeling where you’re trapped underground. You’re screaming. Your holding in your fear. You’re crying. There’s blood in your mouth. You don’t know where she is is she okay? Are they okay—

Bruce pulls back and his lungs fill with air. The man is gone. He’s never felt so shaken. And he lives in Gotham.

But he recognizes the boy’s face. The face of his coworker.

The next day, Billy passed by him after a meeting.

“You never touch them. That’s the rule.”

I guess I just wanted to dip my toes into the more darker aspect of Captain Marvel. Magic itself has a darker side anyway, so this kinda lines up in my opinion.

[sarcasticdolphin]

"Cubs" Todolf (Cultverse)

Cultverse is kind of its own warning but this one is remarkably soft for cultverse, but the dark vibes and implications are still very much there.

So for that and length, under the cut.

Aemilia isn’t a normal panther. Rudolf knows as much, but it isn’t until he learns more of the creatures sacred to Tod that he even begins to understand. Panthers are silent stalkers. Their prey do not see them until it is already too late. And in this, Aemilia is totally alike her wild kin. Her footfalls are silent in a way they should not be for a creature of her size, and her movements are gracefully deliberate, almost liquid more than anything.

But otherwise, she seems nothing like them. Wild panthers are loners in the woods unless they have a cub, but Aemilia is always with him, a personal companion and a gently affectionate friend, laying across the top of Rudolf’s chair and letting her tail hang down to lie on his shoulder, keeping Rudolf company as he learns more prayers or hymns.

At night Aemilia mostly stays with Rudolf, curled up beside him or at his feet, unless Tod makes an appearance. And as much as Rudolf adores his companion, his body learns the pattern before his mind consciously recognizes it. And his skin is alive with anticipation those nights after Aemilia has slipped from Rudolf’s chambers but before Tod appears to him.

She’s not all that large by the standards of panthers. Still much larger than a housecat, but quite dainty and only perhaps the size of a man - by no means a giant amongst her kind. If they were her kind. Part of Rudolf thinks there is no way any creature - even a great cat sacred to Tod - can be as intelligent as his companion. 

And she’s so very patient in a way that animals aren’t. With Rudolf himself when he just needs to speak, and he doesn’t want to find the proper prayers to Tod. Granted the words come easier with the passage of time, but in those first early years her gentle eyes and soft fur are a lifeline to him. Tod had been less present, and Rudolf’s servants had been more terrified than anything else, even then.

Perhaps especially then. He hadn’t learned his history at that time, but once he does it begins to make sense. More than one prophet of Tod had his servants disappear at a rather alarming rate. The annals had spoken of a great man-eating panther in the woods, but Rudolf had his doubts. The story seemed rather sanitized. It had been written by one of the priests of the sun god at the time.

----

So of course Rudolf notices where Aemilia has her little nests. One is on his bed, just where his feet rest, and it is more an informal thing. The blankets almost always bear some sort of impression that she has rested there, curled up in such a tight little coil. It’s truly amazing how small she can seem even when Rudolf knows she is not quite as small in truth.

The other nests - or perhaps dens - must be, Rudolf thinks, where Aemilia goes during those nights that Tod visits him. One is below, before the altar, on the smooth and warm floor, just tucked into a little nook that looks like it was made for that purpose. OR actually it looks like it was made for a slightly larger panther. Aemilia fits with room to spare.

Her last nest is at the back of Rudolf's closet, hidden amongst his cloaks, shrouded in darkness. It had been quite the shock the first time he’d seen her eyes there, blinking back at Rudolf as he tried to pick a cloak for the day. 

And it is there she goes during those first weeks, before Rudolf has even really noticed. Well, it wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed anything. Aemilia had certainly been well-feed during the past few weeks, but that could be as simple as her catching a poacher that she deemed palatable. Rudolf’s dear companion might ordinarily be very picky about her food, but perhaps if the poacher in question were handsome enough, she might make an exception.

No, Rudolf doesn’t notice until one day that he is praying with Aemilia laying across his lap, when her side moves in a way that isn’t quite normal. Quivering, almost.

Oh. Oh.

It wasn’t that Aemilia didn’t spend time away from Rudolf - she hunted in the forest, after all, but some part of him had thought her more a creation of Tod’s magic than a true panther. But the small movements and the way her body changes are unmistakable. 

------

She births her cubs alone, tucked in the back of Rudolf’s closet, in that proper nest she had made. Her little den. Rudolf finds himself praying during those hours. It’s not that he knows she’s in labor - for if panthers suffer the same pains as humans Aemilia does so silently - but he knows Aemilia and she would be at his side if there were not something keeping her in her den.

It’s a full week before he meets the cubs. Aemilia herself had emerged a handful of times, mostly just to have a little meal before going back to her little ones. Rudolf knows they will be tiny, blind and helpless, totally dependent on her. 

But the little cubs she presents to Rudolf already have their eyes open at a week old, and there is some air of mischief to them as they crawl around. They aren’t nimble creatures yet, and their little legs seem quite short for their bodies. But Rudolf can only imagine what they will be as graceful as their mother soon enough, and utterly impossible to catch. Best to treasure these moments of their sweet curiosity with the world before they can endanger themselves with said curiosity.

Aemilia naps while Rudolf tends to the cubs, giving them scratches, and keeping them away from their mother’s twitching tail. His dear companion deserves her rest, and Rudolf has the rather distinct feeling that neither he nor she will be having much rest until her cubs are grown.

“You need names.” He tells the cubs, humming as he glances back and forth from them to their mother. “What ever shall I call you?” Perhaps he ought to name them after other prophets, but somehow it feels wrong. Rudolf will have to think about it. Or more accurately, pray about it. Perhaps Tod will grant him guidance.

[renee-writer]

April 15th Chapter Thirty-nine

AO3

They are allowed to bid farewell to Ian. 

 

“Dinna Fash, mo mhac. I have my life.” Jamie tried to hide his reaction to seeing his brother -in-law.

 

“Aye, and you are going home to help da look out for the lasses and children.” William tried to look on the bright side.

 

“Just so.” They don’t have long. The war doesn’t stop for goodbyes. “You take care of each other.” He swallows and hugs the neck of each man. “I shall tell your lasses how brave and braw you are.”

 

“Dinna tell them…” Jamie needn’t say more. Ian knows that some things should never be spoken about, not to the wives, anyway.

 

“Never.”

 

More hugs and Jamie and William return to the front while Ian starts on the way home.

 

Wartime plays havoc on the post delivery. Jenny receives nothing from His Majesty’s army or her husband. This makes his arrival an incredible surprise.

 

She is out hoeing the soil when a strange carriage pulls up. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she tries to see who it is. The hoe falls from her boneless hand when she recognizes her husband.

 

She almost falls over herself running to him. He is almost knocked down by her embrace.

 

“Oh my love, it is really you!” Punctuated by kisses., “I thought you dead. Had the strangest feeling whilst Claire was delivered of the twins,” more kisses, “ Something had happened.”

 

It comes to her slowly. He is here. Not in a wooden box, Praise God, but somehow injured. Injured to bad to keep fighting. They aren’t sending healthy man home.

 

“It is my leg, my heart. What is this about twins?”

 

They all sit around the great room. Ian is surrounded by his children and wife. His da sits near as well. 

 

“So I thought John in honor of you and Jamie’s mate.” Claire is explaining. He met and made a fuss over his new nephews. All made a fuss over him.

 

“It is perfect.”

 

“Did you kill lots of bad men?” Wee Ian looks at his dad with adoration.

 

“I did what I had to do, son.” His dad meets his eyes and nods.

 

“Daddy is alright, him and Uncle Jamie?” Hazel asks. He had told them all the status of his brothers-in-law but understood she needs reassurance.

 

“Aye lass, they are.”

[uhzuku]

cw : mentions of child loss. reader is a galaxy ranger + boothill’s work partner.

it’s dark when you enter the bedroom; all of the lights are off, and for a second you pause, wondering if it was unexpectedly empty, and if so, why. you’d been so sure that your partner was in here, you’d heard him say that he was heading into the bedroom, so to not find him here was both confusing and the slightest bit alarming.

you’re about to leave when the smallest glint of metal catches your eye, and instinctively your hand flies to the gun resting in its holster on your hip, flicking open the leather clasp securing it so you’re ready to fire before you recognize that glint and pause. your brow furrows a little, your shoulders relaxing as you close the leather clasp again and gaze in concern at the way your partner was sitting on the floor with his back against the side of the bed while looking at his hands in the dark. his eyes are empty, almost dead-looking, and his hands shake as he stares almost unblinkingly at them. something twists in your chest, and you tilt your head a little before asking, “hey, is… everything alright?”

it’s a stupid question, you know that. he doesn’t answer, obviously not alright, but you aren’t really sure of what to say. he’s never acted this way before — or, you think bitterly to yourself, i’ve never caught him acting this way. you kick yourself for the lapse in your observational skills, for getting so comfortable that you slip up so heavily in beaing constantly vigilant and aware of your surroundings. maybe if you hadn’t you’d have noticed whatever inner turmoil your partner was going through sooner.

���boothill?” you try again. he says nothing, silent still, and you shift from side to side before quietly sighing to yourself and walking over. you slide down to sit next to him, your forearms thrown over your knees, and you try to give him the quiet company he may want. the two of you had worked together for a few years now, and while you both kept your cards close to your chest, you really only had each other these days; you both knew the other would have your back no matter what, even if it meant losing a chance at a target, and you hoped he remembered that now even with how lost in thought he clearly was.

the two of you sit in silence for about ten minutes. it’s a charged emptiness, the room partially lit only by the soft light from outside the door and the only sounds punctuating the darkness being your breathing and his. his hands still shake in the slight light from the hall, and his voice cracks when he finally speaks.

“i’ve never held my daughter.” the words stun you a little. neither of you were much for sharing personal information; you’d both spoken a little of your home worlds, descriptions of the places before they’d been destroyed and you’d joined the rangers — this was new information for you. a daughter? a family?

“they took my hands,” he continues shakily, and realization makes a heavy pit in your stomach, accompanied by a sudden ache in your chest. oh, gods. “they took that feeling from me. stole it. i’ve never held her now.”

he lifts one hand to study it in the faint light. it shakes even more, and you pretend you don’t see his bottom lip trembling. he closes his eyes and takes a stuttery deep breath, and before he opens them again you avert your own, wanting to show him the respect he still deserved. if it were you being so open right now, you wouldn’t want to be gazed at like some zoo exhibit, so the least you could do is keep your eyes to yourself.

you wonder if he’d even think it mattered once he came to his senses more and regretted sharing; it was easier when you lost people if you didn’t know them well beyond body language to make fights go smoothly, and in this job losing people was an unfortunately common occurance.

“what was her name?” you ask softly, too afraid to speak above it in fear of breaking something already so clearly close to shattering. you’re pushing your luck and breaking your own code, you know that, but you also knew that she deserves to be remembered — she’s so obviously more than the stolen memories that she’s slowly starting to become, and if he was willing to allow you the honor of doing so, you’d join him in cradling her memory close to you.

he says nothing, and you resign yourself to not getting an answer. you slowly stand, reaching to place a hand on his shoulder before thinking better of it, then pulling away. you’d give him privacy, you decide, in case he wants to cry. he was the type to hold emotions close to his chest, to cradle them like something small and breakable, and you wouldn’t force his hand. you’re across the room and your hand is on the handle of the door before you can think more on your swift exit, and you’re easing it closed as you’d want if this was you. it doesn’t matter how long it’s been, all parents deserve to mourn — the loss of a child is something that never leaves you.

“clementine,” he chokes out in a whisper into the darkness before you, and you pause, the door cracked as you wait. a sliver of light from the outside leeching through the crack in the door lights his face up, and you watch a single tear roll down his cheek as his breathing hitches and he shows the beginnings of curling in on himself. “her name was clementine. and she was mine.”

as silently as possible, you close the door, and you pretend not to hear the sounds of hushed crying that comes from the bedroom afterwards.

i wonder if boothill ever sits quietly in the dark and thinks about how he has hands that have never held his baby and that he’ll never get that back

[byjwn]

박성훈 envy of you

sunghoon x fem! reader .. fluff, popular boy and unknown girl au. minimal cursing. she envied the life that he lived and wanted everything that he had, without knowing that he felt the same way.

you hated park sunghoon. you hated almost everything about him. but you only hated him because of how much you admired him and the life lived. you watched him and his best friend, nishimura riki, laugh and tease each other as they sat at the front of the class. you always wondered what it was like to have a super close friend like that. the last friend you could recall was in kindergarten, but she moved away to the states not too long after you had befriended her. ever since then, you have been alone. nobody ever really noticed you. you were practically non-existent to everyone at school, or so you thought.

sunghoon on the other hand was the most known guy in school. everyone loved him and would throw themselves at him just to get a single “hello.” you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t understand why people liked him so much, but you did understand. just looking at him was an honor because of how beautiful he was. he was also one of the nicest guys you have ever come across. you haven’t spoken a single word to him and he hasn’t spoken one to you either, but overhearing all the conversations he has with other students, you can tell how genuine he was. park sunghoon was the closest to the definition of perfect you can get.

you averted your gaze from the duo to look at the blank piece of paper on your desk that was supposed to be filled with notes. you frowned, tapping your pen repeatedly on your desk. as you continued to stare at your paper, you had an odd feeling that someone was staring at you, so you looked up. your eyes examined every student in your class, but they were all too busy to pay attention to you in the slightest.

the school day had finally reached its end and you were making your way to the bus stop. you were typically the only one who rode the bus to school and back home since everyone else got a ride from their parents or friends. you finally decided to look up from your feet when you noticed a muscular body standing at the bus stop. the closer you walked, the more you recognized this figure. park sunghoon. ‘what is he doing here? he never takes the bus.’ you thought to yourself, reaching the bus stop but keeping a decent distance between you and him. you stared back at your feet to avoid him looking at you, not that he would even think to anyway.

“do you usually take the bus?” you heard his kind voice ask you. your breath hitched as you struggled to spit out words in response. you took a quick glance at him, and he gave you an inviting smile, before nodding yes. he shook his head in agreement, “that’s cool. this is my first time taking it actually.” you stayed silent, hoping that he wouldn’t make any more small talk so you could escape this confusing dream.

the bus finally showed up and you quickly made your way into the bus, sitting all the way in the back. little did you expect that park sunghoon would sit one seat away from you. he turned to look at you, again with that beautiful smile of his, “you’re y/n, right?” “how do you know my name?” you questioned him back. he let out a soft chuckle, “i know not many people talk to you or anything, but don’t think anyone doesn’t know you exist.”

"well i wouldn’t really expect someone as popular as you to know i exist," you responded with a frown, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. "it’s really not all that great being popular, you know. your friends aren’t really your friends. they just want that status too." you furrowed your eyebrows, "what do you mean?" "i mean, they just want to be popular and have this big group of friends. it almost makes them feel cool. in all honesty, i’d rather be like you. quiet and reserved with nobody to bug me." you were shocked, to say the least. park sunghoon said he wanted to be like you rather than experience the life he has right now. "you really don’t, sunghoon. i want friends like you do. nobody even pays attention to me but everyone loves you."

“you don’t.”

you haven’t spoken to sunghoon since that day you rode the bus together. you’ve seen him multiple times in school, but he hasn’t even attempted to spare a single glance at you. you couldn’t help but feel sad at how she could say such a thing and then never even look at you again.

you sat at an empty lunch table, picking at your food with your fork but not having a big enough appetite to eat it. all you could think about was park sunghoon and that conversation you two shared. “is this seat taken?”, you heard the familiar voice say from above you before being accompanied by another body sitting next to you. speak of the devil, park sunghoon. “why are you sitting here?” you asked him, going back to picking at your food. “well it doesn’t look like anyone else was sitting here, so why not?” he said before digging into his average lunch meal. you looked behind you to spot sunghoon’s usual lunch table where he eats and hangs out with his other friends. all their eyes were on you with a glaring look.

“your friends don’t look too happy that you’re sitting with me.” “fuck them. i want to feel normal for once” he said with his mouthful of rice before chugging down half the bottle of his water. you chuckled at the cute bunny looking boy and began chowing down on your own food.

ever since then, you and sunghoon became closer and closer every day. you could tell that you were starting to fall for him and you liked to think that he felt the same way. “what are you gonna do now? since your friends don’t like you anymore.” sunghoon raised his eyebrows at your sudden question, “hang with you, of course. i prefer it this way anyway.” sunghoon smirked as he saw the blush start to creep on your cheeks as you tried to hide your smile. he began to speak again, “i think this is what i needed. i needed you. i feel so more alive when i’m with you and i never want that to change”

you looked up at sunghoon before nodding your head, agreeing that you felt the exact same way. sunghoon grabbed the side of your face and caressed your cheek as he observed how beautiful you were, “and what if i told you i wanted to be something more?”

authors note ; i cant really tell if i like this or not lol but let me know what you guys think. i’m gonna try and be more active just because i really want to write more as it’s a fun hobby of mine. requests are open btw so feel free to send some or even just can’t with me through my ask box !

[halloweenbitch2764]

I can request a scenario in which the reader is rescued by the police or by someone who cares about her and thinks she is saving from the Slachers (Brahms, Jason, Michael, Vincent, Bo and another killer of her choice).

What would happen next, would the Slachers go after their reader and bring them home with them? Would the Slachers cause a massacre with people who cross your path, perhaps?

((Note: S / O is not a victim or hostage of the Slashers, but his girlfriend)).

Absolutely! Thank you for the request and patience! I think family/friends will work better in these situations so I hope you don't mind! Also I'm gonna skip Michael because I can't come up with anything for him and the other scenarios are super long. I hope it makes up for it <3

TW: Violence

F/N: Friends Name

Brahms Heelshire

It had definitely taken some getting used to when it came to living with Brahms

Between the HUGE mansion and the man himself

But you adapted into the role and settled in relatively well

However, you dropped contact with outside people quite suddenly

The cell reception had became increasingly worse and the landline phone had finally given out

When you tried to leave Brahms would insist on you staying

Which left your brother quite worried (pretend if you don't have one)

After multiple failed call attempts he decided to visit the address you had given him after accepting the job

He continued to try and call once he landed

Sure he'd be annoyed if you answered but would be happy you even did

However you didn't

So he made his way out to the mansion and parked in front of you

You were busy doing some cleaning and hadn't heard the car door slam shut

Brahms did though

A knock rang from the front door and you answered it, seeing your brother in front of you

You were confused and questioned why he was there

"You haven't been answering ANY of my calls. What the hell happened?" He seemed more concerned than angry

You knew Brahms would have heard him by now and one major rule was "no visitors"

Your stomach dropped

"Oh, um. The cell reception here is garbage and I haven't had time to get a new landline." You partially lied

"Well I'm glad you're safe. Mom wanted me to stay for a few days if that would be alright. I hate to invite myself but you know how mom is."

Your stomach sank further

"U-Uh actually, I'm not allowed to have visitors stay. Really not supposed to have anyone stay at all."

He raised his eyebrow. "Aren't you just watching some doll? Come on, Y/N you gotta be lonely. This place seems huge."

"Just go back home and tell mom I'm fine. I'm gonna be here till my job is done. Okay?" You wanted to make him leave without worrying him or him seeing Brahms

However, you noticed his eyes shift behind you and then widen

Oh fuck

"Go. Home." You told him but he didn't have to be told twice, already halfway to his car

You turned around to see Brahms behind you and you figured his size was enough to scare your brother

You just hoped he wouldn't tell your mom what really happened

Jason Voorhees

You had been at Camp Crystal Lake with Jason for quite a bit before anyone came to see if you were there

Cell reception was basically nonexistent so you hadn't had contact with the world since you had decided to stay with Jason

Your sister (pretend if you don't have one) remembered how much you loved Crystal Lake though and wondered if maybe you had ran away to the abandoned and dilapidated cabins

You were just taking a walk when your heard a female voice screaming your name

You instantly knew who's voice it was

You hoped Jason hadn't heard, scared of what he would do to her for trespassing

You ran towards the voice and you thought your sister was going to faint when she saw you coming towards her

"Y/N?" She almost didn't seem to believe you were right in front of her

"Hey dork, what's up?" You asked, trying to seem casual

"What's up?" She seemed stunned and then angry. "What do you mean 'what's up'?! You ran away and then just act as if nothing happened?!"

"Hey keep it down. Look, I'm sorry. I just was tired of everything and decided to see if I could stick it out here by myself for a while. I'm trying to renovate an old cabin to make a sort of house and I don't want ANYONE knowing where I am." The whole story was pretty much a lie. "I was just so overwhelmed with everything I needed a getaway. Don't tell anyone where I am. Please?"

She was silent as she processed everything. "What about Jason? Isn't he supposed to kill anyone who lives here or roams here?" She was almost positive the whole story of Jason wasn't real but she was still curious

"Well I mean. I'm still intact so I'm gonna say he doesn't exist." You lied.

She nodded a bit. "I've just been so worried about you. Just...try and let me know you're okay ever so often. Alright?"

You nodded and she headed back for her car

Once she was out of sight you started to head back to the cabin only to bump into Jason's chest

You jumped slightly in surprise, not having heard him sneak up and explained that she was your sister

He nodded before bringing you back to the cabin

Vincent Sinclair

You were sitting silently in the woods with Vincent as a victim made their way into the small town, pulling into the gas station

You were fairly far away and hidden by the foliage but you recognized who stepped out of the car

He had papers in his hand with large red letters spelling "MISSING" on the top and your face under it

It was your friend

Well he thought of himself as your friend

You didn't mind him but he would act obsessive towards you, wanting to hang out as much as possible and even interjecting himself into conversations you were having

You knew he had good intentions but couldn't help but feel annoyed just by his presence

He walked into the gas station, likely to ask about you

You knew what would happen

Vincent seemed to notice how closely you looked at the guy

It was different from past victims

"Who's that?" He signed

"An old...friend of mine. Well, he thought we were friends. He got on my nerves." You signed back

Vincent nodded a bit as you continued, "He had a thing for me I think. He was obsessed to say the least."

Jealousy started to come over him at what you said even though he knew you didn't return the feelings

He'd make sure he wasn't made into a wax figure

Just tortured and then disposed of

Bo Sinclair

You leaned against the gas station counter as Bo worked in the garage as per usual

You were fairly sure it would just be another normal day

Nobody coming to bother you

However a car pulled up and parked by a gas pump, shutting off as someone stepped out

No

No it couldn't be

Your old friend

You hadn't spoken to her in years

She still looked the same

You didn't know if you hoped she wouldn't recognize you or that she would

She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head as she pushed the door opened but stopped in her tracks as her eyes scanned your face

"Y/N?"

You reluctantly nodded and stood up, walking out from behind the counter

Tears welled up in her eyes as she pulled you into a hug to which you returned

"I-I can't believe this. We all thought you were dead!" Emotions swirled rapidly through her voice. Pain, excitement, nostalgia

"What?" You asked, confused

"I've missed you so much." She held you by your shoulders. "I didn't even mean to come here. I made a wrong turn and then was gonna come ask for directions."

Well that sounded oddly familiar

"Well I'm glad to see you. I'm alright. Just uh, decided to live here. I like how secluded it is." She turned to look at the side door to the garage as it was pushed open and Bo entered the room.

"Well hello there." He said in his normal charming accent, greeting your friend and seeing her as a victim. "Who might you be?"

"Oh this is F/N, she's been friends with me since we were in school."

He nodded a bit and she raised her eyebrow. "Well who's this Y/N?" She smirked

"This is Bo. He's my boyfriend. He works in the mechanics shop." You told her

She nodded and smiled.

"Well have a look around if you want any snacks. I gotta help Bo with something in the garage." You lied, tugging him into the garage and shutting the door behind you

"Do NOT hurt her." You sternly said and he raised his eyebrow

"I can't risk her telling people about this town." He responded.

"She doesn't even know what this town is. I think she missed the sign." You told him and he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose

"She could be lying."

You shook your head. "She won't tell anyone."

You walked back out and smiled at her, taking her money to pay for her snack

"You didn't see me okay?" She raised her eyebrow

"Some things happened that I don't want to get into right now but I can't go back for a while. Just let them think I'm dead and move on. Okay?" She nodded after a moment

"Have a safe trip." You said sweetly, giving her one last hug before she left

[tumblingxelian]

I think its less that it was left behind and more that we didn’t have much more to discuss, V9 shifts that up by having Ruby overtly confirm it was Yang who raised her. 

So on the first point, I feel the “He was grieving and had to work” angle always neglects that Ruby and Yang were grieving and that Yang was also the one who canonically had to keep the family together and raise Ruby. Meanwhile Ruby was grappling with grief and being raised by a five year old because her entire world just fell apart. Tai wasn’t the only one dealing wit grief or burdens, he was however the adult whose needs come second to his children's which they evidently didn’t. 

Also we know from Ruby & Yang’s response to Qrow passing out on the doorstep that them having to care for a wasted adult was not unfamiliar, so even if he couldn’t be around much to help he certainly also contributed to their shared trauma. Given it was established that Yang was the one wo read to Ruby as a child and the fairytales aren’t canon, I don’t really view that as a compelling argument, especially when put against everything else that’s been established in the show itself. 

No one, anywhere is saying he’s a bad person, speaking from personal experience its entirely possible to be abused by a good person who only means well, it doesn’t’ mean its not abuse which is what parentification and neglect are. What’s more, a lot of us do find the way this is discussed to often come off as rather dismissive of emotional abuse, neglect and trauma. Talking as though it was a brief thing they all overcame long ago is rather hard to stomach given V5 Yang’s sobbing confession and V9 Ruby’s outright confirmation. Let alone previous examples of less than stellar parenting and continued neglect up to the current canon given he’s still leaving them to fend for themselves. 

No one is asking you to hate them or call them bad people, but as countless other posts have noted, loving someone isn’t the same as parenting them. Tai can love Yang & Ruby to the moon and back and it won’t change his neglectful parenting. 

As noted elsewhere, a lot of people are coming at this with the unnuanced idea of 'abusers are always actively bad people'. Which leads to a dismissiveness, reduction or flat out refusing to recognize the harm being done by someone because 'they're a good person' and other victims of emotional abuse have spoken to me about how well... Unpleasant this is for them to see. 

Honestly I thought we'd left the “Tai was neglectful” discourse back years ago.

Because yeah, he was. I get him: he was left by his first wife and her second one disappeared and never came back, and that he suddenly saw himself a single father of two, still having to work to support them while he was still grieving, and the only person who could help him probably had to keep his distance most of the time because he was afraid his bad luck would affect them. And I understand that he was incredibly depressed, and that he loves his daughters more than anyone in this world and that eventually he came back from it (we see him spending time with his daughters and reading stories to them in canon content), and Yang did say in volume 5 that her father was always busy with school, so I also assume that the guy worked a lot and that he always made sure Yang and Ruby had their basic necessities covered. But he did neglect Ruby and Yang emotionally for a while, and that did affect Yang. That's it. He's not a bad person, he just wasn't the best father for a while.

It's sort of like Willow. She was a caring mother for her children when their kids were little; Weiss really implied it. And seeing she is able to summon Grimm, I assume she could fight and that she even could have been the one who taught Winter how to do so (and Winter's original outfit seemed to be based off hers in portrait, so I assume they were close). But then Weiss' tenth birthday happened, and everything came crashing down. She became very depressed, and started drinking to numb that pain, becoming an alcoholic. I do feel bad for Willow; I know that she really does love all her children, and that in volume 8 she took a turn, stopped drinking and started repairing her relationship with at least two of her children. I know she's trying to be better now, but that doesn't change the fact that she was neglectful towards her kids as well. She didn't only allow Jacques to still abuse her those years, she also allowed her kids to be abused because she was usually to drunk or depressed to do anything. We saw that the closest thing to a proper mother figure Weiss had growing up was Winter herself, who was only fifteen when her mother shut down and had to take on that role. We've all also seen how Winter turned out, emotionally repressed trying to distance herself as much as she can from her entire family as possible, not just Jacques. And we saw Whitley; how lonely he felt because his sisters got to leave and he's stuck with their abusive father and their alcoholic mother, that he was so young when his mother shut down that he probably doesn't even remember when she was a loving mom, and how he at first could barely even stand being in the same room with Willow or her talking to him because he resented her.

They both made mistakes and that has shaped their kids being the way they are, not only because their mom left or died or because their father is abusive. That doesn't mean I hate them, of course. I love both Willow and Tai, I don't think they're bad people, I want to see their families heal and I wanna see them spend time with their kids, and most of all, I know that they'd give their lives if that meant seeing their kids safe because despite everything, I don't doubt that Tai loves Yang and Ruby and that Willow loves Whitley, Weiss and Winter as well, more than anything in the world. That's all.

[five-rivers]

Life's Great Lie 5

Steve fell from heights with some frequency.  Gravity was an old and persistent enemy of his, older than his enhancement, older than his time at bootcamp, older than the time he’d broken both arms falling off a see-saw.  This was, however, his first time being thrown this far by a person. 

The throw was fairly shallow, high enough to get him over the trees and a couple streets.  The vertical vector wouldn’t be much of a problem, falling a couple of stories wasn’t something that really bothered him.  It was the horizontal component that was worrisome. 

Fenton, it seemed, had one hell of a pitch. 

He hit water – the Neckar River – shield-first and skipped.  The vibranium dampened the impact, which, yes, it had no business doing.  Steve had spent some time in physics classrooms, thank you very much.  Vibranium was the next best thing to outright magic. 

He sent up a plume of water, then skipped like a stone, his stomach doing flips as he was once again, however briefly, airborne. 

He hit the water again and seemed to skid several more feet before friction brought him to a stop and he began to sink.  Luckily, his skillset included swimming.

Lightning cleaved the sky above, a deafening boom of thunder right on his heels. 

.

Loki hissed through his teeth.  The sky churned with his brother’s – No.�� With Thor’s ire and Odin’s magic.  He had factored Thor into his earlier plans, the plans that included his capture, but with a new strategy in mind, Thor’s early arrival was nothing but inconvenient. 

A smaller hand slipped into his, and Loki felt magic not his own wash over him.  His first instinct was to lash out at it, push it off, free himself, but he recognized it’s character. 

“Invisibility?” he asked, looking down at Danny. 

“I can’t hold it forever.  I’ve got the iridium.  Where’s Barton?”

“The archer can take care of himself,” said Loki, leading the way with long strides.  “Are you going to revert to your previous state now that you got what you wanted?”

“I don’t think I can.  That staff seems to prevent me from taking actions that would reduce its hold on me.  I assume that is why none of us have slept?”

Loki didn’t deign to answer.  His mind was occupied by other things.  Such as how much power Danny was holding back.  In contact like this, Loki could feel it, its weight tangible and looming, cold and dark.  Not entirely unlike his own internal well of power, if he thought about it.  Similar enough to the Casket of Ancient Winters to make Loki…  Not homesick.  Not exactly.  Nostalgic, perhaps. 

So much power in one so easily controlled.  In one so hesitant to use it.

Loki didn’t know what to make of him. 

He wondered what Thanos would…

No.  Loki knew what Thanos would do if the child fell into his hands.  Another…  Another lesson.  Another tool.  Another weapon.  The latter two were, after all, what Loki was using him for. 

It was a good thing that Thanos only wanted the Tesseract.  After Loki returned that and the scepter, the Earth, and every being on it, would be his.

“I’ve been wondering something,” said Danny.  “Your army is a loaner, right?  They aren’t your people.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’ve been calling them ‘the Chitauri’ when you talk about them to Barton, and you don’t say ‘we’ when you’re talking about them.  Maybe your language doesn’t work like that, but you’re pretty good at English, so…”

“I don’t speak English,” said Loki.  “The language I am using is All Speech.  Your mind is only interpreting it as English.”

“Oh, huh.  Does that mean you can’t read English, or…?”

“Practitioners of All Speech can understand all languages, written or spoken.”

“What about sign language?”

“That as well.”

“Cool,” said Danny.  “But what I was saying was, how are you going to keep control when the Chitauri aren’t with you anymore?”

Loki stopped and whirled, yanking his hand away.  Not with him anymore?  He—That—They were Thanos’s creatures, and—

The child might have a poi—

Lightning struck. 

.

The lightning guy was a surprise.  Danny was just going to say it.  He had approximately zero (that was a 0, a goose egg, none) plans for dealing with a lightning guy.  Especially since he wasn’t a fan of large amounts of electricity. 

Lightning guy, on the other hand, had no problem with picking up Loki and flying away. 

Great.  Wonderful.  Perfect.  Lovely.  How was he supposed to catch up to that without going ghost?

An arrow flew overhead.  Danny turned to see Barton running up behind him. 

“You’re faster than I am,” he said, holding out a small, square device.  “This is a tracker.  I’ll take the iridium.”

“Okay,” said Danny, making the trade.  “Good luck.”

Barton nodded.  Danny ran. 

.

Tony Stark wasn’t a genius for nothing.  His suits had emergency backups.  Not very good ones, space was a premium in a design like this, but enough to get moving again once they kicked in. 

“—if you can fish him out before any locals investigate.”  Romanoff said to her earpiece. “What happened to your suit?”

“What happened to those fancy weapons you had?” asked Tony, kneeling to pick up the tangle of wires whose removal had, however briefly, turned him into an expensive, handsome, and inconveniently large paperweight.

“They all stopped working,” said Romanoff. 

“What, the kid snuck by you and pulled wires out of all of them?”

“We had eyes on him when they deactivated.  All at the same time.”

“Think the parents had some failsafe?”

Before Romanoff could answer, a flash of lightning and a roll of thunder took their attention. 

“Crap,” she said.  “Thor.”

“Loki’s brother?”

She put her hand to her earpiece, and Tony realized that his comms must be acting up, too, because no one pinged him. 

“We have eyes on him and Loki.  Get Rogers and everyone get ready to move out.  We might not get another chance.  You still okay to fight.”

“I highly recommend against it, sir,” said Jarvis. 

“Sure,” said Tony.  “Mind if I catch a ride?”

.

“Where is the Tesseract?”

Loki gasped in mock hurt before laughing, using a nearby tree as a prop to ‘stabilize’ himself.  “I missed you, too!”  His words echoed back oddly off the mountains around them, despite the continuing storm.

“Do I look to be in a gaming mood?”

“You should be thanking me!  I know about your oath of protection, but how much does it mean when you’re holed away in Asgard?”

“I thought you dead, Loki?”

“And did you mourn?” asked Loki, curious of the answer despite… everything. 

Perhaps curiosity was too mild a term.  There was too much desperation in it.  Too much hunger.

“We all did.  Our father—”

“Your father,” snapped Loki.  “You saw what I did with the casket.”

“We were raised together.  We played together.  We fought together.  Do you remember none of that?  We are brothers.”

Loki did remember.  The problem was, he remembered both what Thor was describing, and another, darker version of events, like holograms played over one another.  And he knew how prone his ‘brother’ was to seeing only what he wanted to see. 

“Please,” said Loki, “maybe that’s what was going on in your mind, but let me assure you, you were the only one who thought of us that way.”  He sneered, pushing past Thor to stand at the edge of the cliff.  “And then, even you tossed me into an abyss!  I, who was and should be king!”

“So, you take your anger at Asgard out on the Earth?  When you know it is under my protection?”

“These humans will be slaughtered in droves,” snarled Loki.  “I will bring decimation down upon them, whereas he—”

Thor leveled Mjolnir at Loki’s chest.  “You will do no such thing.  You will give up the Tesseract and come home.   Give up this—”

Danny materialized between Thor and Loki. 

“You know,” he said, “he’s being mind-controlled, too.”

He pushed Loki off the cliff, and they fell.

[totiredtowrite]

Wolf In Sheeps Clothing

Warnings - Cursing because angry boy, reader being a cold mf, reader's clothes are described (but kind of vaguely so dw)

Note: I feel like I can hear the gif for some reason :D? Kind of self indulgent so reader is shorter than kyotani. Poor mad dog, always being put in his place by pretty boys. I'll have you know that I consult the wiki everytime I write something for character details by the way. (bragging shamelessly). Reader is also a second year and the student council president because this is fiction and I'm not sure if you have to be a third year hehe

this turned out longer than I thought it would, really popped off with this one

Male Reader

Kyotani Kentarou has a new enemy.

Whether or not you knew he though of you as an enemy didn't matter to him.

Suprisingly, it doesn't happen as often as some might think. His awful attitude and uncooperative nature ensures that he makes more enemies than friends, but most people are too afraid to approach him in order to become one of the two.

His new enemy?

You. (L/n) (y/n), Student Council President.

Kyotani never really though much of you. Not when you campaigned for the spot, (despite being in the second year), and not when you got the position. He's seen you, sure, you made that whole speech when you got the part and you oversaw detention sometimes.

Kyotani, (surprisingly), didn't get detention much. On the one time you oversaw the detention class when he was supposed to be there, he decided not to go.

So, overall, he hardly saw you at all. You were nothing but a passing thought in his mind when he heard people talking about you. He never expected to talk to you, much less consider you his worst enemy.

~~~

It really was a normal day for Kyotani. He woke up, took a shower, ate on his way to school, and slipped into class with his usual "fuck with me and you die" look on.

Practice was cancelled that day as the coach was out sick, so he didn't really have anything to do. Everything was all normal for him, right up until the end of the day. Kyotani was stalking through the hallways, the other second years moving out of his way and giving hushed whispers to their friends as they got ready to leave.

He was used to that, and even liked the feeling it gave him, knowing that these people were actually afraid of him. He was close to his locker when it happened.

He ran right into you, almost knocking you back. He glowered down at you, an angry spark in his eye that would have any other student running far away. You however, just stepped back to be clear of his general bubble, and looked up at him with a frown.

Truth be told, he had never really seen you up close. True he'd overheard some of his classmates talking about how 'intimidating' and 'handsome' you were, but Kentarou didn't expect to actually feel it coming off of you. He didn't expect to point out how attractive you were right off the bat.

The hard glisten in your eye faded as you scanned his face. You know this guy. Your expression changed from 'stone cold dictator' to 'unbothered student council president.'

Somehow feeling the tension, most of the students cleared out before either of you said a word.

"Kyotani Kentarou," you said, "Number 16 on our schools volleyball team. Infamous for your out of control aggression and prowess in your sport." You smirked at him quickly, straightening your blazer and standing up straight.

"The hell," he lifted his head to look down his nose at you, "why do you know me?"

You shrug. "I keep tabs on all the students I think are troublesome. Or interesting." He watched as you casually turned to your bag and pulled out a large binder. "You're on the first page, marked in red." you had a somewhat mocking tone in your voice, that coy smirk returning.

Kyotani growled, the noise sounding surprisingly like an animal. You were much more cocky up close. Cocky and aggravating. He moved closer to you so that your chests were almost touching while you put the binder away, and looked straight down at your face. "I can be much more troublesome," he said lowly.

You barked out a laugh. "Careful there Mad Dog." You advanced, causing Kyotani to step back. "Or I might just think you're threatening me," you continued to move forward. Kyotani took more steps back. The only way he could describe the feeling was like he was being herded like a sheep.

Another animalistic growl left his throat when his back hit the lockers. By now everyone had left, leaving just the two of you. "You aren't leaving a very good first impression on your president," you say dangerously, almost mocking your own title.

"Why do I need to leave a good impression on you," he muttered out. You didn't say anything and instead lifted your arm above his shoulder to slam it by his head. He recognized this feeling. Yet somehow, it felt all different.

Not once had the rumors spoken about the affect you had on people. You scanned his face again, those intimidating (e/c) eyes holding him steady in place. His breath hitched in his throat softly when you pulled your hand back to straighten his tie. "You don't," you said referring to his earlier question, eyes focused on his tie. "And you haven't."

You pulled away from him and stepped back, patting him on the shoulder before turning on your heel to head towards the doors. You turned your head just as you were about to leave, the blue grey light from the cloudy sky making you seem more threatening. "Take care, Mad Dog." You left the school building, leaving Kentarou breathing heavily and on guard at the lockers.

~~~

He really didn't expect that from you.

He had had a similar feeling, when Yahaba threw him into a wall and scolded him during the spring preliminary game against Karasuno. Similar, but not quite the same. It felt like you had him trapped. He still had your words replaying on repeat in his mind.

Those rumors he heard about you didn't do you any justice. He never heard anything about how easily you could make people feel... things. For once, he felt like he was the one being hunted. And oh boy did he not like that. All those times he'd seen you, he thought you looked like a regular goody two shoes who would report even the smallest wrongdoing to the teachers. He didn't expect a calculated, threatening boy who had a binder of 'troublemakers' and a heavy presence.

He didn't sleep more than 2 hours that night.

Maybe it was your eyes that were etched into his mind. Maybe it was your smooth voice, that look that made it seem like there was so much more under your surface.

So naturally he came to the conclusion that you were his rival.

He managed to avoid you all till the end of the week, Sunday rolling around like a saving grace. He didn't see you once for the rest of the week, but it still felt like you were watching him with those calculated eyes of yours. His shoulder still felt all weird and tingly from where you had touched him.

The weekend felt like an asylum to him, a feeling of safety and control returning to him when his older sister sent him out to go pick up some things from the store.

Kyotani had decided to cut through the park on his way back, but now he was quickly regretting his decision. It's not like he was afraid of you, he just thought that avoiding you would be the best option.

The last place he expected you to be was sitting in the park, staring out at the little man-made pond with a few birds at your feet. You had an overcoat on to compensate for the slightly chilly weather, a sweater visible underneath it. Your shoes were tapping the ground rhythmically.

You looked much less intimidating out of uniform. You had a neutral, content look on your face, cheek squished against your palm with your elbow resting on your knee. It was almost cute, he thought, if that was the right word for it.

"Are you just going to stand there forever," you turned your face towards him and regarded him with lidded eyes. "You can sit down you know."

He jumped, standing still for a second before slowly moving towards you. His guard up like a wall as memories of your last interaction replayed through his mind. His breath quickened ever so slightly, and his ears turned pink.

He slid into place on the bench next to you. You turned towards him again and smiled. He went bright red.

It was an actual smile. Not that cocky smirk, but a soft clad cute smile. You focused your attention back on to the pond.

"You live around here," Kyotani inquired gruffly.

You nodded. "I don't go out much. Usually cooped up in my room working on god knows what." You leaned back, draping your arms gracefully across the back of the bench. "Sorry about our little encounter, by the way. I must have come off way scary, right?" You gave him that soft smile again.

He looked away and hid his cheeks with his hand. "Like I'd be afraid of you," he muttered.

You hummed softly. A thought struck him. He regained his composure before speaking again. "You must have known that I live around here, right?"

You nodded wordlessly. "It was in your file."

Kyotani decided not to comment on how creepy that was, and instead muttered out a small "oh."

Neither of you said a word for a few moments.

"We really got off on the wrong foot, huh?" You turned your whole body towards him, watching his movements like a cat.

He just grunted.

You laughed a little bit, and extended your hand. "Why don't we start over. I'm (l/n) (y/n)."

Kyotani eyed your hand suspiciously before taking it. The tingly feeling returned, but this time it felt stronger as both your hands were bare. Your slightly smaller hand gripped his firmly, the slight size difference making Kyotani blush a bit.

You really weren't what he thought, were you? Even so, you were still his enemy. His cute, scary, calculated, calm enemy.

He doesn't even know what hit him.

[kissbentennyson]

I have no idea if you'd do this but I need a nega ben x reader. He's my favorite out of the alternates. A softer one shot would be nice but whatever you're feeling is good too! I'll take any content I can get!

*Emo Boy by Ayesha Erotica begins to play* Yeah me too.

Nega Ben x Reader | reader uses they/them pronouns, but dresses femininely.

Spill

He’d been waiting all day, and I mean, all day. Classes always seemed to drag on and on longer when he wanted something, and sure, he could have skipped. But that would have taken too much effort not to get caught. He isn’t afraid of the cops or the school administration… But dealing with his parents? Yeah, no. Not worth it. He’d b-lined it across Bellwood, all the way to the “café” he frequented. Truthfully, it wasn't much of a café seeing as how they specialize in more smoothie like drinks, but whatever. It has been rather crowded, too crowded, and everyone just wanted to get in then out.

He should have expected to bump or get bumped into someone, but it didn’t dawn on him until his espresso smoothie was all over your bright pink, fuzzy sweater. Both of you stood there with slack jaws and wide eyes as the brown liquid dripped from your chest and down onto an equally as pink lolita-esque skirt. It looked expensive, not in a daddy's money way, in a “I saved up to buy this” way. And so, he was prepared for hell.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry!”

When it left you, Ben was confused. “Gosh, I should have been looking where I was going… But I was too distracted. Ugh, I-” You were flustered , more than actually, embarrassed is the correct word. “Um… Give me a second and I'll buy you a new one…”

“What?”

Watching as you tried to pat away the coffee with one of the recycled paper napkins the café gives out, a million thoughts passed through him. Of course he took the offer, he wanted that coffee. The line was a lot shorter this time around, and got by a lot quicker too. You ordered for him as he zoned out suddenly looking over your shoulder at him. “What?” He asks, watching you get even more flustered. “I just asked if you wanted anything else. Do you?” “Oh, uh, yeah.” he clears his throat, raising his voice. “The kale chips.”

You both walked out together, your head was down and you watched your shoes as you walked. “Again, I’m really sorry.” He glances at you with a slight side eye as he sips on the coffee, this was the gazillionth time you’ve apologized in just the last few minutes. “It’s… whatever.” He lets out a quick and breathy chuckle. “You apologize to me, but I ruined your sweater.” All of the sudden, your embarrassment seemed non-existent. A light and bubbly laugh leaving you. “Ruined? Oh, trust me, I’ll be just fine. I've dealt with worse.”

“Anyways! I have to get home and change, It was nice meeting you!”

-

The lunch room was beyond packed, packed like the reunion tour of a popular punk band from the 2000's. The doors and tables overflow with hungry and impatient mouths. You had managed to get in before the rush and snag a serving of less than okay school food, but by the time you got out of line, they had all flooded in. People had no concern for others around them, pushing and shoving like toddlers over toys, and you were getting the brunt of it. Not actually, but it sure felt like it.

You were halfway across the room and were looking around the tables for a free space- but it was too late for that already. A body slams into yours hard, you hit the ground as your food falls and splatters all of the chest of the sweater you had just gotten the coffee stain out of. Feet come down around you as you struggle to get up, the other person now looming over you. “Could you have watched where you were going!?” This whole situation was not intentional, but they had no right to get angry at you for that.

You felt the tips of your ears heat, unable to answer. Her eyes bore down on you as she sways with every passing body bumping into her. Suddenly, you feel a hand grab the back of your sweater and pull you from the ground, as if they were scruffing a cat. “Or, maybe you could stop play fighting with your friends in the cafeteria, like a bitch.” Her jaw drops and her freckled face goes red with embarrassment, obviously on the fact that she can't pawn her mistake off on someone else this time. The voice was rather monotone- in a way- compared to the words spoken. And rather familiar.

When you look up it’s the guy from the café, his neutral expression was a thin vale to hide his irritation- at least to you. His hand still had a grip on the back of your shirt, it was a firm hold, and it made you just a tad bit nervous. You swallow as the person swallows her embarrassment, rolling her eyes desperately to try and hide. “Whatever freak, sorry…” she turns and disappears into the crowd. You watch her do so, completely shocked at the situation at hand. Your lips part to say something, but his grip on your sweater releases, being replaced by an arm around your shoulder. Suddenly, you’re being dragged through the crowd and towards the cafeteria door.

He walks you out into the hallway, which is mostly empty at this point. “Thank you.” you choke out through the lump in your throat. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps walking with you- and you aren’t in any position to object.

Eventually you reach the stairs. Under it is a mostly empty black backpack, and there’s a light reflection of gold from inside. The weight of his arm leaves your shoulders and he walks ahead, sliding under the stairs and sitting with his back to an old AC unit. You hesitate for a moment, you’ve only met this guy one other time… maybe you should just wait…… nah.

Sliding under the stairs right after him, you sit straight across from the guy. He’s already looked away. “I think we have third period together. Your name is Ben, right?” His phone is already out, and he’s scrolling through it. “Well I'm…” you give him your name, and all he does is look up at you with a nod before going back to his phone. The volume is low, but there are noises coming from it, ones you recognize. “Is that the Sumo Slammers mobile game?” There was no judgement in your voice at all, and suddenly the losing end sound plays.

The corners of his mouth twitch. “Yeah?” “My little brother is obsessed with that series. He says that the mobile game isn’t that good, but he still played it to the end.” He let out a little huff like laugh through his nose, pressing the power button and finally giving you his full attention. “Yeah, maybe the old one wasn't that good, but this one is a new release- Doesn’t even have dubbed lines yet.” He clears his throat, slouching a bit as his hands slide into his pockets. “Actually, it’s not fully released in the states yet. I got pre access to the game.” He watches you smile, and suddenly there's a slight tense feeling in his chest.

“That’s really cool, are you a beta tester or something?” He shrugs. “No, and it’s whatever.” He glances away, gaze holding on the wall. “Well I think it’s really cool, especially since it's a series you like.” “How do you know that?” His gaze snaps back to you, suddenly defensive. “Your backpack is open and the sun is reflecting off of the cold backing of the trading cards.” You lazily point to the stairs above you, and there is the reflected image of the symbol on the cards. “Those are the collectors additions, from japan. I know because I’ve been looking for that exact deck for my brother.”

You watch as his cheeks dust a light pink color, lightly nudging his bag so it falls over. He starts avoiding eye contact, leaning back fully against the old AC unit. “Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be cleaning up your sweater?” You lean back against the stairs. “Yeah, maybe. But I think you’re kinda cool, and I’d like to stay.”

It was rather silent the rest of lunch, when you tried to hold a conversation- he would end it with short answers that gave you nothing to build off of. The bell rings above you like the screech of an angered bird. You both get up, him raising from the floor before you. You brush the dirt off of the back of your thighs, the light sound of unzipping catching your attention. You watch as the zipper of his hoodie comes down as he pulls it. Yanking it off of his shoulders, revealing the greenish-grey long sleeve he had under it.

“Here. Even if you get the food off, it’ll still stain.” He hands you the coat, slinging his backpack over one shoulder, the already open flap lolling open even more. “Oh, thank you, I don’t know what to sa-” “Don’t. Don’t say anything. This never happened.” He walks past you and into the crowd of students, with his head down.

You watch as he does so, eventually looking back down at the hoodie in hand. You feel your face just slightly twinge with heat. “Yeah… Alright.” You say under your breath as you rush off to the nearest bathroom to scrub the food scum from your sweater.

-

It was a game day.

Not that he kept track of that, he had never been into football. Once upon a time he played soccer, but after he got the Negatrix any hopes of that former love returning was gone. Ben knew it was game day because his cousin was in her cheerleading outfit- and it was no were near time for cheer competitions. Her makeup was done and her strawberry blonde hair was pulled up, and she sat in the front seat of her boyfriend's car chatting to said boyfriend about the routines she had to do.

Ben sat in the back, as he always did, waiting for the drive to be over. It came soon enough as the car pulled into the drop off area in front of the school, slowing to a stop. Neither Tennyson waited for it to fully stop before opening their doors. He got out, closing it with a slam and without a thank you. Gwen still leaning in and talking. The chatter of the hoard of tired teenagers flocking into the building almost drowned out the shouting of his name.

Almost.

He groans, looking over his shoulder, spotting the mass of pastels jogging towards him with something in their arms. “I’m so glad I got here on time! They were packed this morning- and I thought I'd be late- but I made it.” In your arms is his hoodie and an espresso smoothie. You hand him your gifts with a large smile. “I um, washed the jacket for you. Thanks again.” The bell rings and you give a quick wave before pushing into the school building yourself.

His jaw hangs slack, looking down at his freshly cleaned jacket- lint free, folded, and still warm- and the smoothie. When he moves there's a light cracking from inside the jacket, like the sound of a chip bag. He pulls back one of the folds and there is a bag of kale chips, stuck to it is a yellow sticky note written on with a pink gel pen. A phone number with “See you at lunch.”

“Who was that?” Ben looks over at his cousin, an impressed smirk on her lips.

“You’re getting mileage out of this, huh?” “Soooo much.”

[xcal1bur25]

See that’s the thing, there isn’t. Okay, I limited it to dads and stay/night timeline to get that result, but let’s expand it to parental figures in general and go down the list, in loose descending order. I’m not gonna try to order it super well beyond trying to start with the better examples.

Irisveil Emiya- At least on par with Kiritsugu if not better, from what we know.

Risei Kotomine - I actually totally forgot about Risei, who’s only failing is not recognizing his son is a fucking psychopath.

Natalia Kaminsky - points off for raising your adopted son as a mercenary assassin, but a whole lot of points for actually loving him as a son. Kiritsugu’s feelings about Natalia’s death are as complicated as they are because his feelings about Natalia aren’t - she’s the mother who stepped up. End of.

Kiritsugu Emiya - Already spoken for, more or less. Loves his kids, deeply flawed human who left them with a ton of issues, but they were never his heirs or his tools or anything meant to be useful to him, his love for them was absolutely unconditional.

Norikata Emiya- okay Norikata gets a lot of shit because Kiritsugu gives him a lot of shit, but let’s actually think about this. Norikata was deliberately keeping his son out of his dangerous magic stuff, not only keeping him safe but giving him a happy childhood. He cared about Kirk as his son, not as his heir. And the way said dangerous magic stuff ended up? Arguably not even his fault. He knew it wasn’t safe. That’s why he WASN’T moving on to human tests, that’s why he told Shirley “don’t take it, you aren’t ready, it’s not ready.” Norikata was being perfectly careful and deliberate about his own experiments - things only went wrong because Shirley ignored his very important warnings. Not saying he was necessarily a decent person, no mage is, but he didn’t do half bad as a father.

Aoi Tohsaka - Arguably not really at fault for what happened with her daughters, but also maybe she is? It’s unknown how much she fought it and how much power she had TO fight it.

Tokiomi Tohsaka - Yes, there is the whole “give your kid away to the Matous” thing but, in the interest of being fair, he did not know how Zouken planned to use Sakura, and he thought he was legitimately making the best choice for her happiness and future. His failings come in the form of not stopping to consider just how fucked up the “normal mage culture” things he was doing were. Still a terrible father, but we are admittedly still in the realm of “well, okay, you did actually care about your kids”.

Lancelot - well. Galahad sure doesn’t have a high opinion of him.

Cu Chulainn - Okay well it was a fucking accident okay! He didn’t know it was his kid! He had never met them before and…okay that’s also not really much of an excuse.

Heracles - killed his kid, but also, was mind controlled at the time by Hera.

Saber - the most I can say in her defense is that rejecting Mordred at the time was an understandable if regrettable reaction, and that killing Mordred wasn’t something she had much of a choice about at the time.

Medea - killed her kid, but to be fair that kid betrayed her first, iirc so. Not the bottom of the list.

Acht Einzbern - absolutely fucking not

Zouken Matou - would be ranked higher if he HAD killed his kids, jfc.

The single most depressing part of Kiritsugu's character is that he is, in fact, the single BEST father or father figure within the main stay/night timeline. YES, even with all of his...everything. Even with his role in all of SHIROU'S everything. This guy, this absolute 10 car pileup of tragedy and trauma and stupid self-destructive mindsets of a human being, is the single most positive father figure in the entirety of the main series timeline. I mean, even among servants, most of them that HAD kids freaking killed them with their own hands.

The second most depressing part is that the only other dad who comes close...is Norikata Emiya, by pure virtue of "trying to keep his son out of all the fucked up mage shit he was doing".

[merakiui]

I was reading through your tags and you mentioned at some point the kazuscara roommates finding your onlyfans and I think I completely combusted—thus i present to you my brain rot of late: you attend the same school as them but you’re not actually friends, all you know about kazuha is that he’s the friendly regular at the cafe you work at, who makes polite conversation every now and then but otherwise is nothing of note. In reality he’s been stalking you for weeks ever since your first encounter, and is dead set on the idea that you’re this innocent, weak thing that needs to be protected (maybe he stepped in when you had a bad customer and your meek reply helped fester his delusions?). Scara, on the other hand, is only aware of your presence since you’re his favourite cam model that he recently found. (Since he’s a harbinger he’s probs loaded) Weeks of funnelling money towards you cause him to feel this unwarranted possessiveness, believing that since he’s been providing so much in your “relationship” that it’s time you reward him in turn. However, despite the unbridled interest they have toward you neither are aware of each other’s feelings for you— that is, until you happen to run into the both of them heading to your class. While both are known for maintaining their stoic masks, they’re friends for a reason— and instantly can tell the attraction their roommates have towards their own “lover”. After kazuha finds your onlyfans he’s certain that you’ve been coerced and wants to save you, while scara thinks it’s time that he’s stopped letting other plebeians look at his possession—so, despite their initial reservations, come together to form the ideal plan. When you find yourself waking up groggy in a room you don’t recognize, all they can do is look on with glee whilst planning their next course of action with their new belonging. They’re friends after all, and good friends share though, don’t they?

This is v long srry lol you can ignore this ofc!!

AAAH, ANON!! YES!!! <3 I couldn’t resist writing more on this concept. orz They make for such a terrifying pair when they work together!

(cw: yandere, stalking, nsfw, implied kidnapping/drugging, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, delusional thoughts, savior complex, implied violence)

What if Kazuha and Scara were just acquainted with one another and actually became closer through their mutual obsession with you? Yes, they’re roommates and ought to get along because they’re living together but they haven’t exactly clicked yet. They talk every now and then and know little things about each other. Nothing too special. They don’t really hang out outside of their dorm either, what with their class schedules being vastly different. And Kazuha’s always out of the dorm doing who-knows-what. Most of his time is spent at a café, where he’ll write and read and stare at you while you work. On the other hand, Scara prefers to stay inside if he doesn’t have a good reason to go out. He likes his alone time. Although he has enjoyed going to the library every now and then to study.

So maybe they need to find some common ground. Maybe they need a push in the right direction before they get closer.

Kazuha likes to stare. Talking to you is great, but he worries he’ll say too much and then he’ll be a nuisance, or you might not want to talk to him at all since you’re working. But you always regard him with a warm smile, happy to scribble his name on the plastic cup because you remember him. Because you recognize his familiar face and soft, gentle eyes. He’s the one who saved you from that rude customer, after all, and he’s a polite regular. Why wouldn’t you know him? You might look like you can handle those types of situations, but what Kazuha saw that day was something entirely different. You were nervous—so soft-spoken and scared. He absolutely has to protect you from those kinds of people now, doesn’t he?

And he does exactly that. He’s your second pair of eyes—your valiant knight in shining armor—who sees and hears all. Sometimes he goes to the café with the intention to simply watch over you and make sure no one’s bothering you. He can recall one time when a customer was speaking rudely about you because her drink hadn’t been prepared in a ‘timely manner.’ In reality it’s impossible to make a drink within a few seconds, especially when you’re already preoccupied with making another customer’s drink. She must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed, or maybe she’s just a hateful person in general. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of such fiery insults, though.

Her eyes just can’t see your perfection and therefore she does not deserve to see out of them.

Kazuha’s willing to wrestle with all of this darkness if it means you’ll stay safe, oblivious, and pure. You’re like a defenseless kitten, unable to protect yourself from the scary world. He writes about you a lot in his journal; you’re his muse—someone who constantly shows up in poems and short paragraphs where he tries to describe what your dream date might be or what type of wedding you’d prefer. Things get darker the deeper you delve into his writings, where you’ll find entries in great detail. Kazuha writes a lot and he doesn’t even mean to. He just has to get all of his thoughts on paper before they abandon him and he’s left with emptiness.

Everything you do is pure; you’re almost an equivalent to a holy being. Your smell is pure. Your body is pure. Your actions are pure. Your smile is pure. Even when you’re on the verge of crying from harsh customers or when you’re turning down a confession, you’re still pure. And Kazuha likes that about you because it’s special. There aren’t many people in his life who are completely pure. He’s been through a lot of rough things and has seen firsthand how impure people can be. It’s only fair that he gets a chance to protect purity itself.

He might have some impurities, but that doesn’t deter him from watching over you. As gentle and unassuming as he is, there are times when even he loses his composure. Not many are privy to these dark emotions of his. His smiles are sharp and venomous and his eyes fill with a gloom so dark it can swallow you whole. You’ll never see this side of him; he won’t allow it. Instead you’re treated to his sweet, calm side, where he feigns perfection in hopes of catching your interest.

As for Scara… He doesn’t really care about Kazuha in the beginning. He’s just someone he has to live with. It’s not a big deal and as long as he doesn’t try to make lots of pointless conversation everything will be okay. He prefers the peace and quiet, considering he’s acquainted with people who are far from peaceful and quiet. Scara’s relieved that Kazuha leaves the dorm so often because it gives him an opportunity to watch his favorite cam star’s most recent video. He’s your most loyal follower—someone who’s paid lots of money just to have access to the highest tier of rewards and such. He even got a private video where you addressed him and moaned out his name with lustful thoughts of him. Having lots of money comes in handy.

When he finds out that you go to the same school as him, he’s a little shocked. He didn’t expect you to be so close. You’re practically within touching distance. If only he knew your schedule. If only you were in one of his classes. It’s really annoying that he only knows your online presence and not who you might be in your personal life. The last thing he’s going to do is consult Childe, that popular athlete who knows literally everyone in the school for whatever reason. Surely he knows you. But he’ll die before he ever asks Childe for a favor.

Scara loves you out of every other cam model because you’re different. You’re not just trying to get fast cash. You’re genuine. You listen to your subscribers and their feedback. You do your best to improve and do even better streams than the previous ones. All of your hard work is overlooked by the other fools who watch your streams, but it isn’t overlooked by him. Scara appreciates your attention to detail and the way you’re able to hook him with your breathless voice alone. You’re very skilled at what you do, so it’s only fair you get paid for it.

But buying your services isn’t enough. It’s not a real relationship, but it certainly feels like it when he buys preferential treatment. Private shows, special requests, odd favors—you do it all because he pays for it. But this relationship isn’t going to be one-sided forever. You’ll have to pay him back in full eventually. Scara likes to think he has patience and that waiting is fine. It gives him more time to plan his next move—to figure out what he should do to finally have you all to himself. So that those private shows he watches through a screen can finally be real.

Scara finds the journal sitting innocently on Kazuha’s bed, its maroon cover and maple leaves pulling at his curiosity. He might not know everything about Kazuha, but he’d recognize this journal anywhere. His roommate almost always has it on his person. Scara wouldn’t be surprised if he slept with it. To say he’s curious would be absolutely correct. He can only wonder what Kazuha writes in that thing. Perhaps it’s just notes for a class. That’s what anyone would think, right?

Scara opens it and flips through the first few pages. They’re normal for the most part. Just a bunch of haikus and other useless scribbles. When he skips over some pages, he starts to find things that are far more interesting than poetry and doodles of cats. He finds the majority of the journal is comprised of information. More specifically, there are facts and other knowledge about you—the cam model he’s been obsessed with ever since he stumbled upon your onlyfans. He reads through as much of the journal as he can and instantly learns so much: your address, your roommate, your workplace, your friends’ names, names of any potential exes. The list goes on and on.

Scara doesn’t have anything against Kazuha. His first impression of him wasn’t anything groundbreaking. He thought he was a pushover at first. But now that he knows what this journal holds… Well, it sheds an entirely new light on his roommate.

Just days before Scara took a peek inside his journal, Kazuha discovers your secret online life. He snoops through Scara’s laptop when he steps out, having left it open and unlocked. He’s just trying to find what could have caught Scara’s interest, as he’s almost always glued to his laptop on specific days at specific times, with his headphones on and his gaze unyielding. He doesn’t intend to find the file of one of your private videos—something that was meant only for Scara’s eyes.

He clicks on the video out of interest. He’s not sure what he was expecting to see, but it definitely wasn’t this. Kazuha sits there and stares at the sight before him. You’re dressed in skimpy lingerie and you’re muttering the dirtiest things while coating your fingers in lube. And your hands are stroking a thick toy and you’re addressing Scara and you’re lining it up to your hole and— He shuts the laptop before it can get even more explicit than it already is. He’s so conflicted, fraught with a betrayal so strong it weighs his heart down.

Why would he have this sort of video on his laptop? Did you give it to him? Did he make you do this? Are you in danger? Are you still pure?

Kazuha can’t kill on campus. It’s way too risky and he’d be one of the first suspects if Scara’s body is found. Besides, it’s not like he has the full story. He doesn’t know whether or not Scara’s done something that’s worthy of death. You could just be in a tight spot. He knows how easily you give in when you’re under pressure. Maybe you’re just doing this because you feel like it’s the only thing you can do. Not to worry; Kazuha will save you before Scara can ruin your purity with his twisted fantasies.

They confront each other when the time feels right. Kazuha struggles to keep a smile plastered to his face for the sake of politeness, while Scara holds in his raging temper so that he can bear some semblance of cooperation. Neither of them is happy to hear that the other went through their stuff, but they force themselves to make up because a more pressing issue is at hand: their connection to you.

Kazuha says he’s your secret admirer. Scara says he’s in a relationship with you. There’s no way you’d ever date someone like Scara—Kazuha knows this for a fact. Yet he falters at the confidence in Scara’s tone. That can’t be the truth, right? Despite this, Kazuha still strikes up an offer: If they work together to get what they both want, they’ll be unstoppable. With Scara’s riches and his influence and Kazuha’s charisma and clever thinking, they can easily get their hands on you. Of course this means they’ll have to share, but it’s not a big deal when they’re already in so deep. They both know the other’s secret; now they’re swearing to keep it in the pursuit of having you all to themselves. And luckily Scara agrees to the deal, but that doesn’t give Kazuha a reason to lower his guard.

However despite how well they work together when it comes to planning the kidnapping and actually executing it, they both have their own reasons for wanting you. Scara wishes to make his relationship with you a reality—to toss aside the screen that once held him back and finally do all of the things he could only do in his dreams. Kazuha seeks to protect your fragile heart, lest you crumble under Scara’s intense way of doing things and cling to him for salvation. You can’t do those sorts of things with Scara; he won’t allow it. Your purity is meant for him and no one else.

But sharing is caring and some have to learn that the hard way. It definitely brings Kazuha and Scara closer together, even if neither of them will admit it. If they look past their desires, they can be friends. And soon enough they’ll have to accept this new friendship if they want to avoid any unnecessary complications.

However there are times when they’ll cooperate in order to do things with you. They’re a packaged deal you can’t get rid of.