#sorry guys I'm just being abnormal about it

[shsl-analyzer-guy]

Do you ever think about how every killer in drv3, by some manner, killed not for themselves but for the sake of others. How Kaede have up her freedom in exchange for a chance at finding the mastermind, how Kirumi killed to try and save Japan as a whole, how Kork killed for the sake of his sister, how Gonta wanted to save his friends in a mercy kill, how Kokichi sought to end the game and how Kaito revealed himself so that who remained would live.

And do you think about how that ongoing theme of sacrifice mirrors the way the pre-game contestants sacrificed their lives and their beings for the sake of their love unified into one franchise, the same way that Tsumugi had. Something about the all consuming love of creation that ate them all whole, given by their own free will.

How something beautiful can come out of self sacrifice, but also how it shouldn't have to. How those who survive come out battered and bruised, a ghost of their former selves. Something about the exploitation of their love twisting it into a malicious series that cares only about the end result and not for the people they're supposedly catering to. Something about the inherent greed of capitalistic success and how it turns something meant to inspire hope in the future becoming a vicious cycle of violence just for the sake of it. The original meaning of perseverance lost, with the only ending being in cutting the head off the snake and letting it die

Hey did you know V3 was about reality tv-

[akuma-tenshi]

hear me out

[radiant-reid]

Reunion

Summary: JJ never knew you were dating one of her teammates and that you broke up because of her, but seeing him at JJ's wedding years later changes things.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angst then smutttt)

Content Warning: 18+ Smut (oral- f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, a little bit of a breeding kink)

Word Count: 2.1k

"So, how's mystery boy?"

After skipping your usual Tuesday night plans twice, thanks to JJ being away on cases, you're finally back in your best friend's living room having a glass of wine and a cheese platter.

It's been an abnormal amount of time to go without seeing each other since you both ended up in DC after moving out of East Allegheny to different colleges. Even with men in the mix now, you both make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. However, her busy schedule and frequent flights to New Orleans have meant you've spent some time apart.

Unknown to her, she knows the so-called mystery boy. Very well, in fact. "He's well." You say slyly, unable not to grin widely.

JJ throws her head back dramatically. "Come on, Y/n! Some detail would be nice."

"It's good." You try again. "He's the sweetest. I'm very happy."

She smirks, letting you know an interesting question is coming your way. "How's the sex?"

It never takes more than a glass of wine for her to be that loose. You don't miss a beat in your answer. "Fabulous."

"Okay, so can I meet him soon?" She pushes like she has been for quite some time.

You wonder what she would think. What would her expression do if you were to say his name out loud right here? Maybe it's not that deep but getting with JJ's closest colleague is dangerous. It was a concern at the start, a reason not to start, but you fell in love with Spencer Reid quicker than you could ever imagine.

"Sure, JJ." You agree, trying to look positively about it. You can only assume she's thinking about the worst possible scenario about your mystery man. He's a criminal or he's far too old for you or he's an ex you promised not to get back with. There are too many options.

She looks triumphant. "Yes!"

You just smile, sending the conversation in a different direction by asking about her boyfriend. He sounds like a great guy and you can tell she's happier than ever before.

Three months ago you met Spencer Reid. It was JJ's birthday and your duty as her best friend to throw her a fun surprise party. That took some coordination with a friend from work. Firstly, that was Penelope, but in order to lure JJ, you needed Spencer Reid. He was a little slow with replying to your texts, but lovely. And after you met him, you were hooked.

Spencer was perfect. Gorgeous, funny, intelligent. His incredible shyness had you confused when he asked you out for dinner the next morning.

Too many espresso martinis provide an explanation for why JJ has no recollection of you flirting with him all night.

You see Spencer as much as you can, but similar to JJ's, his schedule often doesn't allow for consistent visits. So whatever time you do have, you make the most of it. He's still the most amazing boyfriend you've had. Kind, caring, witty, fun, and playful.

He gets whisked away on a case to Miami not long after being home. You didn't know things would be so different the next time you saw him.

He goes quiet on you. You know their cases are intense but you haven't heard from him in an entire week and that's not right.

Can I come over? He finally texts you and you're guessing he's back in DC.

It sounds a little ominous and the message sends a chill down your spine. Sure. I can't wait to see you. There isn't a reply and you sit in limbo in your apartment for almost an hour before he knocks at the door.

You smile when you open it, although you're slightly annoyed there was zero communication or ETA from him. "Hey, Spence, how was it?"

"You knew." He says in a cold, accusatory tone. It's nothing you've ever heard from him.

"Sorry?" You repeat, moving to the side so he can come into your apartment.

He steps in, barely looking at you. "About JJ and Will." He explains.

A little frown takes over your expression. Surely he's not angry that he only just found out. An awkward laugh leaves your lips. "Sorry, Spence. She didn't want anyone knowing."

"I'm your boyfriend!" He exclaims. "You're not supposed to lie to me."

"I didn't." You join the offensive, crossing your arms. You're not enthused about what he's accusing you of. It wasn't even your secret to tell him.

He looks disappointed, face dropping. "Come on." He sighs. "How am I meant to be with you if you don't trust me enough to tell me who our friend is dating?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell." You try to talk some reason into him, pushing down that sick feeling in your stomach telling you that he's breaking up with you.

Spencer shakes his head, his decision- as much as it's killing him- completely made. "I can't do this."

His words make your world come crashing down and you almost can't believe it. You slump to the couch while he makes his way to the door with sad, slow footsteps.

He's looking at you, waiting for you to ask him to say. "Can we not tell JJ?" You ask softly.

"Fine." That's the last thing he tells you before walking out the door, shutting it firmly.

That's it.

The last thing Spencer tells you.

Then he's gone from your life. You talk about him less to JJ and she picks up on what happened and stops asking about him.

You expect to see him when Henry's born, or even at a point in his life. Somehow, you don't. Your schedules never line up and then JJ switches jobs. There's a myriad of reasons but it doesn't happen. You both go on with separate lives.

And then JJ and Will are getting married. You get a frantic call from your best friend's soon-to-be-husband who whispers secret plans to you over the phone. It's perfect, you know JJ will adore the simplicity and elegance of a backyard wedding.

You're there as soon as you can be, helping set up Rossi's backyard so it's gorgeous for the most gorgeous person you know.

You're the maid of honor, of sorts. And you don't get a chance to ask who the best man is before JJ arrives and the ceremony begins.

You strike out as soon as you spot a tall brunette. A tall brunette who made you the happiest you've ever been with a man. And he's still just as handsome.

His eyes bulge when he sees you but he keeps a straight face and clenches his teeth while the ceremony continues. You're mostly focused on how beautiful JJ looks and how sweet their wedding is, but you can't help your mind drifting to Spencer.

You hadn't seen him dressed up like this when you were dating and the tuxedo is a perfect look on him.

"Y/n." He comes up to you when you're getting yourself a glass of champagne.

"Spencer." You reply. His tone doesn't let much about how he's feeling on. All you get is a glimmer of shock.

He stands against the table. "Maid of honor?"

You shrug, a little confused at his question. "You know, I'm surprised I haven't seen you all these years." You admit, letting some honesty slip.

"It was slightly intentional." He offers.

You don't let it offend you. "Best man?"

"I think that means we're supposed to sleep together."

You nearly spit out your sip of wine. There's no way the shy Spencer Reid you once knew just said that.

"We've done that." You reply, trying to keep a straight face after the out-of-pocket comment.

Spencer tilts his head to the side. "You're right."

You really don't know how it happens. Maybe it's a few too many drinks. There's definitely not enough alcohol in your bloodstream to solely blame that. Spencer Reid is as hot as they get. And it's been... longer than you're willing to admit since you've had sex. Even longer since it was good sex.

So there isn't anything telling you to stop when Spencer pushes you up against the door of a room in Rossi's house, lips firmly against yours.

Your dress is hiked up around your waist while his fingers trace up and down your thigh before he even thinks about locking the door. Both of you are far too wrapped up in the moment to think securely.

His hands are quick to the zip of your dress, sliding it down effortlessly and letting it pool at your feet. He takes a moment to look at you and you have to admit, you're a little worried about his reaction. You don't doubt Spencer Reid can pull beautiful women.

"God, you're gorgeous." He says softly, juxtaposing the way he's practically clawing your clothes off you.

"Are you going to compliment me or fuck me like you promised you would?" You ask him, waltzing over to the bed and sitting on the edge.

Spencer smirks at your smart mouth. "You asked for it."

He's kneeling on the floor in front of the bed in seconds, with no regard for his suit pants being wrinkled, just on his knees. There's a sense of urgency that doesn't allow for the time for him to take your panties off so he opts for shifting them to the side.

There's also no time to waste as his tongue melds with your folds, tracing patterns. No one has ever come close to giving head like Spencer does. It's truly mindblowing, the pressure of his tongue and the suction method he uses. You're instantly in bliss, head thrown back against the covers as you moan.

You've lost it when his fingers enter you, pushing past with little resistance. "Holy shit, Spencer. You're incredible."

"Sing my praises." He says against your pussy.

You do. Not even possessing the ability to be embarrassed about it.

And you don't stop. You're withering and moaning on the bed, tugging his curls while he continues pleasing you. Eventually, it's too much. His fingers pumping in and out of you combined with his tongue wrapped around your clit have you finishing in no time.

"Still as good as I remember." As if he couldn't get any hotter, he sucks his fingers into his mouth.

Spencer rises from his knees, now much taller than you. You tug your underwear off before unclipping your bra. "Fuck me, Spencer." You reach out for his belt buckle, toying with it. "Please."

Spencer has lost the shy, timid nature he had the first few times you had sex and he quickly takes off his belt and pants. Once his suit jacket is tossed across the room, Spencer pulls your legs to the end of the bed, making sure you wrap your ankles around his waist. His hands rest on either side of your head and you're precisely where you want to be.

"You're so hot." You tell him with a smirk.

He grins, spreading your legs and inching inside you. The look on his face is an instant confidence boost. Clearly, he's a man in bliss, head thrown back and tongue parting his lips.

"Fuck." He pants.

You agree, barely able to speak from how hard he's pounding you and how good it feels. Although it's annoying to admit, you've never had as good sex as with Spencer.

Your hands wrap around his forearms, noticeably bigger than last time. "Spencer." You moan. "Please. So good."

He caresses your chest, paying attention to your boobs like he hadn't before. "Y/n." He groans, not slowing his pace up. His hips snap against yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. "Can I?" He asks.

It's unlike you to have even let him start without protection but you're not thinking straight enough. All you know is you need Spencer. "Please."

He finishes as deep inside you as he can get, leaning down to kiss you softly. You're breathless like he is when he flops down next to you.

One of Spencer's palms touches your cheek, forcing you to look at him rather than the ceiling. "Hey, pretty girl." He says softly and it makes your heart flip in a way it shouldn't. "Can I take you on a date, Y/n?"

The smile creeping onto your face can't be helped. "Yes. Please."

[bluebasie]

Sanegiyuu Makes So Much Sense!!

I absolutely adore the ship of Sanemi and Giyuu and it never fails to confuse me when people say they don't understand why people ship them or when people say it makes no sense, especially when compared to other ships. I understand it's one thing to personally not ship Sanegiyuu because obviously it's just not for everyone and other people prefer other ships, but I definitely feel like I can confidently say that the ship makes a ton of sense from a character perspective. 

Firstly, Sanemi and Giyuu have this mutual interest in each other that just isn't displayed when Giyuu or Sanemi interact with the other Hashiras or just others in general. While Sanemi loves to say that he hates Giyuu’s attitude he could just as easily just ignore him and leave him alone since he ‘dislikes him so much’. But clearly Sanemi has some sort of interest with Giyuu as seen when he gets so worked up when Giyuu tries to leave the Hashira meeting after it was over in comparison to the other Hashiras who albeit showed care for Giyuu’s abandonment, they all remained seated except for Sanemi who tried to physically force Giyuu to stay. If Sanemi really did dislike Giyuu’s presence he wouldn't have cared if Giyuu left or stayed but the fact that he wanted him to stay shows he does care about him even if it was negative at first. Then there was their whole sparing scene in which Sanemi apparently stormed to Giyuus house to try to talk to him or at least get some kind of reaction out of him which clearly shows Sanemi’s abnormal obsession with Giyuu whether it be his actions or trying to understand him. Then when Tanjiro 'interrupted’ the two fighting Sanemi seemed to gain a new layer of protectiveness that he clearly didn't have while fighting when he noticed Tanjiro’s presence. While Sanemi seemed unrestrained and free while fighting Giyuu with an onslaught of loose movements and confident attacks as if his spar with Giyuu was a form of stress relief for him, when seeing Tanjiro and realizing his spar with Giyuu was being perceived by another he immediately put his borders back up. Sanemi immediately came to the conclusion that Tanjiro was spying on them as if their spar was a private moment between two close companions. Sanemi already seemed to get defensive when Tanjiro arrived but when Tanjiro revealed Sanemi enjoyance of frivolous things such as ohagi and green tea and Sanemi’s persona as some kind of extreme tough guy who didn't care for things such as sweets was broken obviously Sanemi started to get irritated. What's interesting about this scene though is that it isn't until Giyuu comments on Sanemi’s affection for ohagi does Sanemi crash out and punch the lights out of Tanjiro. It's just so obvious that Sanemi was embarrassed that Giyuu could think he's soft which just provided another example of Sanemi caring what Giyuu thinks of him when he clearly does not care when it comes to others. It's just too funny how much Sanemi cares about Giyuu to the point where the scene right before THE ENTIRE INFINITY CASTLE ARC AND THE DEATH OF SO MANY CHARACTERS he is literally just storming off and steaming at the thought of “what would have happened if Tanjiro didn't interrupt”.

It’s even more hilarious that Giyuu, the character that is literally known for being antisocial and having no friends, just wants to be Sanemi’s friend. Giyuu has Tanjiro and Shinobu and definitely a few others who are trying or have tried desperately to befriend him with absolutely no reaction but apparently Giyuu decides that he wants to befriend the unapproachable guy with anger issues who says he dislikes him. I'm sorry but that is such homosexual activity I don't even know how else to put it. Like Sanemi literally barged into Giyuu’s house, fought him, knocked his little brother out, and stormed off without a word, and all Giyuu can think of afterward is how happy he is to know Sanemi’s favorite food and is already coming up with a sad plan to win him over. This dude is really smiling and all thinking of his perfect future interaction with Sanemi with floating flowers in his little fantasy. I also just love the idea that he uses Tanjiro as his little wingman to help come up with ideas to win Sanemi over that all probably fail miserably just like the ohagi. 

Sanemi and Giyuu have been set up from the beginning and you can see the future of their relationship from the fact that Giyuu’s voice was enough to distract Sanemi enough to get hit by Tanjiro who was a much lower rank than himself in the scene of Nezuko’s trial. The characters have been set up as parallel characters throughout the series in so many ways it's hard to not spot the special relationship between them that isn't there between other characters. Their character design and personalities are already foil with Sanemi’s white hair and impulsive and explosive personality compared to Giyuu’s black hair and calm and collected personality. There is Sanemi’s ability to speak his mind at all times and Giyuu’s inability to speak his mind at times at all. There is Sanemi’s main emotion and expression being one of anger with Giyuu’s being sadness. Another big foil being Giyuu’s compassion and trust towards Tanjiro and Nezuko and their situation while acting as an advocate for them while Sanemi had clear mistrust towards them and their situation acting as their biggest opponent during Nezuko’s trial. Finally, there is the fact that Giyuu’s fighting style is one that revolves around ultimate defense while Sanemi is one that focuses on the ultimate attack. Just by noticing their opposites you can tell the importance of their relationship, but this continues throughout the series in which they are the ONLY two hashiras to survive which was definitely done for a reason. Their relationship is also displayed during their clash to turn their blades red showing their status as equals. The fact that they are the two last Hashiras ties them together even more seeing as after the war they both kind of don't have anyone to lean on besides themselves with the Kamaboko squad all living together and the Uzui’s having each other, Sanemi and Giyuu don’t have some big family to stay with, so they hang out with each other as seen in the panel why their having lunch together.

Out of every non canon ship I truly think thank Sanemi and Giyuu have the most developed and well written relationship down to basic characterization to where these two seem like they were really made together as a pair. Even though they aren’t canonically romantic, their relationship is written better than some actual cannon ships and I think some people should look more into the smaller details when it comes to this ship!

[natriae]

Oh to make out with omi omi like it’s so messy and hot and surprisingly he love it too. Maybe one day u are having drinks and things get heated. OMGGG a roommate au fuckkkkk my mind goes burrrrrrrrrr

NO FRR needy omi makes me go brrrr

I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT WRITTING THIS SOONER

WARNINGS: 17+, BONER ALERT!!, drinking

Friday nights with your roomate weren't unusual. The two of you often going to the fanciest bars in Tokyo with the best views. You'll have to thank the Volleyball Association for his hefty paycheck. The two of you didn't get to see each other often between you pursuing your master's degree, Kiyoomi traveling and his tough practice schedules. The most interaction you guys have had in the pass month was passing him in the hallways. Him always being half dead and you... well you weren't in the best shape as well.

So you decided that the last friday of the month was Omi and Y/N time. While you wanted to spend this time showing him how greatful you are he took you in, omi had the idea of going to "better" establishments. By better he means 3 star michelin restaurants... the ones you can't afford.

Yes, it was nice to see that his name allowed the two of you to experience these beautiful places, but as of lately these seemed more like dates rather than two roommates catching up. Not that your opposed to a date with Omi. Have you seen his body? But he's seen you at your worse. Crying to him at the bar in Ongiri Miya about how your getting evicted from your apartment and how your behind on loan payments. He's seen you sick and begging for him to get you toilet paper. If anything he probably takes you to these places to be his wing woman.

One too many drinks later, and the two of your are stumbling out of the restaurant to his luxurious car. Kiyoomi was much better at hiding his drunkenness than you where. The street lamps were just dim enough to hide the pink dusting his cheeks.

All of your weight pressed into his side while he attempted to keep you upright. "Y/N you need to work with me," the taller man grunts before decides to lift you up over his shoulder. "we need to go home," he breaths into the chill night air.

"whoa, big boy take me on a date first," you giggle into his back. Hitting one of his butt cheeks with the palm of your hand.

You're flipped back upright once you reach his car. He opens the back door and tosses you in. It takes a moment for your brain to register that he got in next to you. "why aren't you driving?" you question, laying your head on his shoulder.

"I'm drunk...gonna wait till I sober up a bit," he states closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Always so responsible. "Also we live together, and that was a date, so I wouldn't be in the wrong," he says sternly looking down at you.

Popping your head up you look at him with furrowed brows. "what do you mean that was a date?"

"Was it not?" He questions, more so to himself than to you. While Kiyoomi is lost in his own thoughts yours run wilding thinking of all the times the two of you have gone out like this. He never said any of these were dates...

You watch as Kiyoomi's adam's apple bobs in his throat. If his face wasn't flushed enough it's clear now. His ears bright red as he stutters out his next words. "d-did you not want this to be a date?"

Did he really think these were all dates? You attempt to look at him in the eyes, yet his fail to meet yours. His head remains looking at the window leaving you with only the view of his red ear. Memories flood your mind in attempt to find the word date leave his mouth during any of your plans. Yet all you can remember are the times Kiyoomi was left stressed he wouldn't have time to shower and change, how he spent an abnormally long time on his hair, or how he always would sneak his card to the waiter so he paid for your meal.

"Hey, look at me," you whisper, lightly moving his chin to face you. His pupils widen over his already dark eyes making them look like perfect tapioca pearls. "we're these all dates?" did you want these to all be dates? Kiyoomi nods his head slowly, and you drop your hand from his face. Unwanted touch was not the man's specialty, yet his hand drops to yours. Placing it back on his cheek, as he looks into your eyes.

"I didn't know how to ask you, and I definitely drank to much tonight," his face flushes more as he rubs your hand softly. "Miya told me to ask you tonight, but i was.."

"Kiyoomi you can say you were nervous," you whisper in the dark car inches from his face.

"never," he smirks. That's something you can tease him about tomorrow. You want nothing more then to kiss the stupidly handsome man. "didn't think you'd like me.. you know with my habits," he states barely loud enough to hear.

"how can I not, at least i know you don't have shit stains," you giggle, leaning closer, noses almost touching. He giggles with you, a sound you don't get to hear often. The deep breath he takes is almost enough of a distraction for you to miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips.

"Kiyoomi"

"huh" he responds on autopilot.

"do you wanna kiss me?" you ask, eyes widening like that of a doe.

"may I?" the gentleman in him asks. Not even a second later your leaning completely into him. Leaving a soft kiss on his lips. His eyes remain shut after you seperate. Your nose still touching his, a small smile escapes as you lean in to kiss him longer. His hand comes to rest on your neck to push you futher into him. You may have broken Kiyoomi.

He bites your lower lip as his hand leaves your neck to wrap around your body while his other hand grabs your thigh to help situate you on his lap. Both of your hands hold his face as you deepen the kiss. You can't help, but strattle him while your tongues explore each others mouths. It's mess and sloppy as saliva drips from the corner of your mouth. His large palms move under your dress to kneed your ass. Your not even sure this is your Kiyoomi with the way his hand slaps, strach that, spikes your ass. Kneading the flesh before repeating the action. Your left unbuttoning his shirt as he begins to trail kisses down your neck. His hands go to waist to push your heat to his hard on.

They were right, it's always the quiet ones.

Your hands tangle in his hair as your left grinding onto him. At this point your dress is bunched up around your waist, allowing Kiyoomi's hands to play with the string of your thong.

Kiyoomi's deep breaths lead you on as you kiss down his neck. "y/n, y/n, not here," he breathlessly rasps. He hears your whine as you grind a little harder into him. He laughs before bringing your face to look at him. His hairs a mess, shirt halfway unbottoned, and his breathless. What god do you have to thank for this sight.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

HE ATE MY HEART!

“I love that girl”

gif by @corvidcrossbow

IM SO FUCKING EXCITED TO FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING TO POST ON HERE AND ALSO TO POST SOMETHING TO THIS SONG

Vamp!Daryl has rotted not only my brain but the community. I am not sorry at all for the plague I'm spreading and I hope that it only gets worse.

So I've been doing some research on it, and I really like the idea of mixing the Blade universe w TWD, I did some more research on the different types of vampires (its kind of a lot so if you want you can go read abt them here!) To basically summarize, there's people, daywalkers (half vamp-people), walkers, full vampires, and then Revenants (half-walker half vampire, basically just another way to die)

This also makes it easier for whenever Scud becomes my next vampy victim

AUUUGH I NEED MY HOT SEXY NEEDY VAMPIRE MAN WHO JUST WANTS TO DRINK ALL MY BLOOD SOMEONE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FUCKING PLEASE

also I am working on reqs yes I am, I have one scud fic that is dirty and nasty and should be getting posted soon. also I may not be on tumblr as much as I used to be because GUYS I am now employed yes that's right I got off my computer, went outside, interacted with people, and got a job #gangshit

It had been over a week since Daryl had eaten, and over two since he had left to go out on the community's monthly supply run.

As he stumbled through the opening gates, he felt like he had been through a war. His body was wracked with exhaustion, weakness, and hunger. The air was thick with the strong scent of blood, and he couldn't keep himself from groaning painfully when he was bombarded by Carol and Rick asking where he had been, what had taken so long, and if he was alright.

“No! M’not alright dammit” He barked at them in frustration after being asked for the third time if he was alright, his voice laced with irritation and discomfort. Carol couldn't help but notice his pale and clammy appearance.

Her forehead creased into a frown as she tightly pursed her lips, giving Daryl a scolding look that made him uneasy. With a tone of concern, she asked, "I'm worried. When was the last you fed?"

The man's face twisted in discomfort as Rick and Carol stood in his space. He scoffed and muttered, "Not recently, m'fuckin' starvin'" The longer he stayed, the more his head spun and his vision blurred, causing the corners of his eyes to fade into a deep red color. His stomach churned uncomfortably, and he could feel his teeth starting to ache.

Rick observed Daryl's malnourished skin, staring at how he was almost transparent. His eyes were screwed shut as the sun harshly burned his sensitive orbs, and he was gripping the strap of his crossbow so hard that his fingers were starting to turn red.

"You should go see Y/n," Rick said, eyes fixed on his friend. "She should be back home and she's been asking about you. I think she misses you." Daryl's body tensed at the sound of your name, and a sudden chill ran down his spine, causing goosebumps to rise on his arms. He tried to hide his reaction, but Rick's sharp eyes didn't miss a thing.

Daryl's head drooped weakly as he could only manage a feeble nod. Rick and Carol had stepped off to the side for him, offering their silent support. Carol placed her hand gently on his shoulder, her grey hair falling across her face as she did so. Rick, with his stern expression, gave Daryl a look that he knew meant there was no room for argument.

His senses were already heightened to an extreme level, almost at an overload as the sun was abnormally bright, blazing down on him with a blinding intensity, making it difficult for him to even keep his eyes open. He could feel the heat searing his skin, causing beads of sweat to form on his forehead and trickle down his face. He noticed the way that his vest rubbed uncomfortably against him, the fabric clinging to his skin and making him feel sticky and irritable. His already aching teeth began to grind down against each other, and he could feel his razor-sharp fangs digging into the tender skin of his bottom lip, further fueling his pure discomfort.

Each step he took in the direction of your house was tiring and heavy, his dirty, muddy boots slapping against the ground as he dragged himself through the streets, promptly ignoring any strange or judgy looks that were thrown his way. He didn't have the time, let alone the strength to even bother paying them any mind. His stomach churned as his overwhelmed nose couldn't help but pick up the sickeningly sweet smell of blood.

It forced him to quicken his pace, trying to get just as far away from the public eye as he possible could. He didn't want to be looked at, didn't want to be stared at. He just wanted to get inside as soon as fucking possible and just tear off all his goddamn clothes. A ping of hope struck through him when he could see your familiar house only a short distance down the road, having to hold himself back from flat-out sprinting the rest of the way there.

Though it was only about a thirty-second walk, it had been the longest in his whole entire life, and walking up the small steps of your porch was like something out of a nightmare. He could disgustingly feel the material change in flooring when he stepped off the pavement and onto the creaky wood, the sound grating against his now way too-sensitive ears. Dear god, would someone fucking help him already?

Of course, as if on cue, the red front door to your house swung open, but instead of being met with a friendly face, he was met with the barrel of your gun.

"Daryl?" You questioned as you lowered the weapon slightly, a smile stretching across your lips once you had confirmed who was standing and dicking around on your porch. "Daryl!" You fully dropped your defensive position, stuffing the weapon in the band of your pants as you prepared to throw yourself at the man, halting when you finally took in his ruined appearance.

His breathing was labored, and it was hard to keep himself upright on his own two legs, forcing him to lean against the wall by the door. "Hey doll"

You scoffed at him in disbelief, "Don't you dare even "hey doll" me, mister! What the hell happened to you? Get in here right now" Grabbing the front of his vest and pulling his heavy body inside, Daryl groaning as each movement caused pain to his body, slumping against the door when you slammed it shut.

He couldn't be happier when he felt you prying the buttons of his stupidly itchy vest off, him shrugging it off as well as his crossbow, clattering down on the floor and probably chipping the metal further.

"Jesus Daryl, you look fucking terrible. Did you feed on anything at all out there?" You purse your lips as you analyze and checked his unnaturally pale chest, letting out a surprised hiss at the burn lingering on your fingers tips from where you had brushed them against the skin of his shoulder

Daryl groaned as you directed him to sit on the couch, the short steps from the front door already leaving him utterly winded, almost dripping in sweat as he wheezed each breath of air.

“‘Wasn’t much… ‘wasn’t much out there” He spoke breathlessly, head spinning and his stomach loudly churning when you stood in front of him.

When you extended a hand out to cup his face, he tightly gripped your wrist with a shaky hand. “Don’. Please don’” He didn’t want to feed from you, not like this, not in a state where he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t absolutely drain you.

“Daryl” You whispered softly, frowning slightly as you started taking your shirt off, and he wanted to scream at your stubbornness.

You straddled his lap and gently brushed the hair sticking to his forehead off, his blue eyes starting to tint red as the smell of your blood was strong, right in his face. “I don’ wanna”

“I know you don’t sweetheart, but you’ll die. What am I gonna do if you die?” You cupped his face, forcing his gaze onto yours. He whimpered slightly at your touch, his whole body sensitive and reactive.

Daryl shivered when you combed fingers through his hair, hands curling around your hips when you directed his head to your neck. “I trust you, more than I even trust myself” You whispered soothingly into his ear, and he almost wanted to cry.

He could smell the blood coursing through you like it was a burning candle, and his mouth was uncontrollably watering. His fangs were sharp and heavy, aching with the need to sink into your skin, which is exactly what he did, groaning against you at the first drops of blood, not wasting against another second before he was greedily taking mouthfuls.

It was so good, so warm and fresh, sweet and bitter. Daryl had drank lots of blood before, and yours was easily his favorite. He craved it during his time out there, not just because there was a serious lack in wild animals, but because it was addictive.

He squeezed your hips, soft and pillowy in his buzzing palms as he could feel himself starting to get hard in his pants, the more blood he swallowed the more drunk he got.

It made you feel good to watch his natural tan color fade back, his scarred back no longer a ghastly pale. You ran your fingers through his hair, occasionally curling your fingers and gripping the dark locks to grind down against his now-straining cock.

Daryl made soft, small sounds as he fed, each roll of your hips making each gulp of your blood taste so much better. His senses were at an all-time high, overwhelmed and at an absolute edge. He couldn’t help the way his hands pressed you down on his cock, hips desperately jerking against you as he could feel himself getting closer and closer, his head spinning in a blood lust haze.

He was so close, so very fucking close. His sharp claws had made themselves known, and you jolted when they painfully curled into your flesh, hips sputtering and slightly faltering in their movements. Daryl had no problem picking up the slack, almost fucking you right through his pants from how hard he was rutting up into you.

It was just all so much, his whole body on fire with pure arousal as he sighed around a final mouthful of crimson, trembling from his core as his orgasm washed over him, pressing your clothed cunt against him as hard as he could, making his already fuzzy mind draw a complete blank, a loud groan tearing from his throat that caused his fangs to slip out from where he had punctured the skin and drop his head against your shoulder, whimpering softly as he held you down.

You scratched his scalp comfortingly, feeling a little woozy from the amount of blood he had taken. He hummed against you as he started to come down from not only the high of his orgasm but bubbly buzz from his feast.

“Feel better?” You asked in a quiet, sleepy voice when Daryl’s tongue cleaned the drops of blood that had leaked from the small wounds, coating the area in his saliva so that it could heal.

He nodded as peppered you in appreciative and apologetic kisses, pulling you flush against his bare chest by wrapping his arms around your back, claws retracted and replaced with blunt nails. “M’sorry fer hurtin’, ya”

“Instead, you should be sorry for not feeding yourself, mister” You said as you shook your head, pinching his side as you got a bit upset again. “You know it scares me shitless when you do that”

“I know, I know. M’sorry for tha’ too” Daryl grumbled, feeling fatigued as well now that his tummy was full and satiated. His body was still weak and needed rest, now yours did as well considering he had taken a lot more than usual. “I’ll make it up to ya’” He said as he pushed himself up off the couch, grunting as it was a lot harder with tired muscles and one hand keeping his woman wrapped around him, adding a second once he was finally standing.

You giggled at that, arms hooked around his neck. “And just how will you do that?”

“Got a real good idea” Daryl smirked, hoisting you up as he ascended up the stairs to your shared bedroom, hungry for something else that was much better than blood.

I started writing this a few days ago I think this is the quickest I've written something

Vamp!Daryl is an absolute need. I'm loving every single post I see of him and I love watching the disease spread faster than fucking covid I jump for joy when I see someone I don't even know talking abt him is this what fame feels like is this what its like to be famous am I fucking famous

yes you do want more of this so go read more

Bloodthirsty @dixons-sunshine

Bite me @mydearestdaryl

[reverie-starlight]

For the MC returns fic you wrote, it's absolutely splendid. But I was wondering if I could ask for a part two with the dateables??

AHHH okayokay i'm so sorry this took so long, I have been so busy since school ended among other things, but here it is!!! and thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed part one <3

as always, gn!MC

disclaimer: I'm not that familiar writing the side characters' personalities, this is my first time writing for them, so please bear that in mind if you think they're a bit out of character. Also, I won't be doing a part three with the undateables (as much as I adore thirteen), bc I'm only on lesson 25 of the OG game :')

warnings: fluff!! slight reverse comfort in diavolo's bc if the game won't let him have a small breakdown, then I will, but it's like so minor. he cries a bit. poor baby deserves to let his emotions out a bit. his section got looonnnggg. slight making out in simeon's? nothing explicit, but definitely lots of kissing. blood mention in barbatos' but no gore or violence. he's just coming back from the dungeons bc I love him being just slightly unhinged. barbatos' is probably the most ooc because I had such a hard time trying to write his section, plus it got just a tad suggestive.

and once again, the details of MC's return are unspecified, just because I don't want to think too hard about it right now! did they complete the task and re-forge all 7 pacts again? did they just pop back into the present randomly? who knows? not me!

MC Returning to the Present: Dateables Edition

(aka MC goes back to the future... I missed out on that pun last time hehe)

After waking up in your room, where you rightfully belong in the present timeline, and getting through your teary reunion with the brothers, you were anxious to set out and find your lover.

You couldn't even text him to let him know you were back- with a shattered screen and an apparent dead battery, your D.D.D. had seen better days. The brothers offered to text the others to let them know of your return after they were done dog piling you, but you shook your head.

"I need to go see him now," you said, feeling guilty that you wanted to leave the warmth of their company so soon after finally having your chosen family back. You made a silent promise to them that you'd spend as much one-on-one time with them as they needed after this, but you were desperate to find him and they could tell. They could see on your face that you had been through a lot and just needed the comfort only a partner could provide.

So instead of fighting to keep you there with them a bit longer, they led you to the front hall and let you go find your beloved. You'd be back after all, you told them as much.

Solomon

As soon as you opened the door to run to Purgatory Hall, you walked right into a wall shaped like the sorcerer you were looking for.

"Solomon!" You gasped out, throwing your arms around him tightly.

"MC," he sighed in relief, cradling the back of your head with his hand, other arm around your waist, holding you just as tight. "I was so worried when you were nowhere to be found in the other timeline, I rushed here to see if you were back."

You hid your face in the crook of his neck, and blinked away a tear. "I made it, I don't really know what happened, it's all a blur, but I'm back now."

"You're back, you're okay..." he pulled back a bit to scan over your figure. "You are okay, yes? No injuries? No weird physical space-time abnormalities?"

You laughed a little breathlessly and shook your head. "No, I'm okay, my love."

He smiled fondly at you before glancing behind you, making you aware of your audience. The brothers were glaring daggers at your boyfriend, and you were sure that if Solomon wasn't, well... Solomon, any other human on the receiving end of those looks would perish.

"Guys, don't. He kept me safe when I was trapped back then. He took good care of me when I needed it, I swear."

You raised an eyebrow at them when they didn't immediately stand down, but they untensed after a second and just eyed him wearily.

Solomon smiled sheepishly. "Honestly, MC, you give me too much credit, but yes, I promise I kept them from getting into potentially catastrophically worse situations."

You returned his smile and squeezed his shoulder, tearing up again. "Don't be like that, you did far more for me than you realize..."

He knew you were referring to all the nights he held you in bed as you sobbed over the possibility of never getting back home, comforting you and acting as a distraction. If he weren't there, you honestly don't know what you would have done.

He sighed again, not wanting to get you too worked up right now. You looked like you were about to drop from exhaustion. His eyes lit up and he grabbed your hand.

"MC, why don't you let me cook for you tonight? A special treat in celebration of our return." The poor guy looked so hopeful that you almost gave in.

Before realizing that you wanted to live to see another day in the present.

"Oh, Solomon, that's very sweet, but you must be exhausted after everything as well! We can just go to Ristorante Six, or get take out..." the determined look in his eyes scared you and you glanced at the brothers for help.

"Nonsense, my love, you didn't let me cook for you once when we were living in Cocytus Hall, let me return the favour." Damn his persistence.

A few of the brothers snickered at that, probably picturing you frantically trying to keep your boyfriend out of the kitchen by any means necessary. It was then that they truly realized how many obstacles you had to overcome. You gave them another pleading look and finally Lucifer took pity on you.

"Actually, Solomon, it's Satan's turn to cook tonight, and we'd prefer to spend the evening with MC, so we insist that you join us for dinner. It'll give us a chance to go over some of the more... pressing details of what happened." His tone left no room for debate, so the sorcerer nodded.

"Oh... well alright, then, thank you for having me." He looked mildly disappointed but it didn't last long after you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

You let out a small sigh and silently thanked Lucifer as you walked further into the house again. You hooked an arm through Solomon's and went to sit with everyone else in the living room, finally feeling at ease for the first time in forever.

Diavolo

The second you were out of the house, you sprinted to the castle.

Normally you would be more courteous on the castle grounds, not wanting to piss off any of the nobles and have them think negatively of the Prince for choosing an ill-mannered human as a partner, but every rule of devildom etiquette left your mind as you ran through the halls.

You smiled at some passing servants as you slowed to catch your breath, wondering where he would be at this time of day. Finally you caught the eye of a servant you had gotten to know quite well during your visits and you visibly lit up as she greeted you.

"Hello, MC, it's lovely to see you again," she curtsied and you smiled kindly at her, insisting she didn't have to. She didn't seem shocked to see you, so you assumed everyone had tried to keep your disappearance a secret.

"Hello, it's lovely to see you, too... you wouldn't happen to know where the prince is, would you?"

She hummed and thought about it for a moment. "I believe I saw his personal butler bringing tea to his office not long ago... perhaps he's still there? He's been working in there far longer than he normally would, lately."

Your heart clenched at that, and you thanked her before running in the direction of his office.

You tried the knob, but it was locked, so you knocked frantically. It took a few moments, but finally it opened and there stood Diavolo. He had a welcome expression on his face, but you could immediately tell it wasn't genuine.

Until he realized it was you, that is.

All the pent up exhaustion you could see on his face melted away and he pulled you to him immediately. "You're back."

You closed the door with a gentle kick behind you as he dragged you further into the room. He lifted you up so that you were sitting on the edge of his desk, him in between your legs. His arms tightened around your waist before his hands trailed up to your shoulders, slid up your neck and finally rested on your cheeks. He rested his forehead against yours and let out a long, shaky, relieved sigh. Like the weight on his shoulders had just been lifted.

You let your own hands tangle in his hair and closed your eyes. "I'm back."

As you held him close, you started to feel him tremble slightly. You opened your eyes in panic, and your heart broke at the sight in front of you.

The future king of the devildom was doing his absolute best to hold back his tears, clinging to your shirt, his breathing unsteady. All because of you.

Your grip in his hair turned softer and you pressed your nose against his cheek, nuzzling into him. "It's okay, my love, I'm here. You don't have to hide from me, you can let it out," you whispered softly.

He listened to your words and immediately sank into your arms further, letting out a strangled sob. The tears that dropped from his face dampened your clothes but you didn't care at all. "Let it out, I'm here now."

You continued to soothe and shush him, all the while caressing his hair and kissing wherever you could reach. You knew Diavolo felt as though he had to remain strong all of the time, and honestly if you were in his position you'd probably feel the same. But since you started dating, you had been trying your best to let him know that he didn't have to be that way around you. He could let his walls down with you and never have to worry about being thought of as less.

A knock at the door made him tense up again and you looked at him in reassurance, silently letting him know you'd take care of it. He straightened up slightly, back still turned to the door, and nodded at you. "Come in," you called out.

You peeked over his shoulder and were pleasantly surprised (though you probably shouldn't have been) to see Barbatos standing there, composed as ever. When the butler saw your head sprouting from behind Diavolo's his eyes widened slightly before returning to normal.

"Hello, MC, welcome back."

You waved. "Hi Barbatos! I missed you."

He chuckled. "I must admit I missed you too. Young master, shall I prepare your room with fresh night clothes for MC as well? It's quite late."

You glanced at him and while he had dried his tears, his eyes were still rimmed with red and his nose was running. So he just nodded and said "Yes, thank you Barbatos. Could you possibly run us a bath, please?"

"Yes, my lord." He nodded at you once more with a knowing smile and closed the door behind him.

You looked back to your boyfriend and smiled. You gently kissed him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders again. "My love, I'm so happy to be back. I missed you more than anything."

He managed a smile and helped you down from his desk. "I was so worried about you, MC, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come back."

You squeezed his hand tightly as he lead you out of the office and down the hall that lead to his personal wing of the castle. "Well you don't have to think about that anymore."

He nodded and for the first time you've seen that night, and most likely in general since you've been gone, a genuine smile took over his face and his usual playfulness returned. "Will you spend the weekend here with me, MC?"

You nodded. "Of course, I was going to ask you if I could, anyway... oh! Diavolo..." you sheepishly looked at him and pulled out your D.D.D.. "Do you think we could get me a new one sometime this weekend?"

He laughed. "Of course, my dear. Is there anything else you need? Anything at all, just say the word."

"No," you started, opening the door to his room and flopping onto his bed. "Just you."

His smile turned soft and his eyes were filled with love. "That can surely be arranged."

Simeon

You knocked desperately on the front door of Purgatory Hall, hoping to see your boyfriend's face. All you wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms right about now.

Soon enough, you heard faint footsteps from behind the door and the sound of a lock unlatching. The door opened a crack and you looked down to see a certain blonde boy's wide eyes. Your own eyes widened in surprise, as you weren't expecting Luke to be up at this hour.

"MC?!" He exclaimed, opening the door wider and throwing himself at you for a hug.

You laughed a little and kneeled down to hug him properly. "Luke! I've missed you."

You both walked further into the entry hall and he refused to let go of you after the door closed. "We were so worried about you, MC! Are you alright? Did you get hurt?"

You patted him on the head. "I'm okay, buddy, promise. I'm glad to be back in our time."

Another pair of footsteps was heard as you and Luke had your little reunion. Your heart raced in excitement, recognizing the pattern of the footfall.

"Luke? Who was at the-"

You smiled as his words cut off and he stared at you, frozen and clearly shocked by your arrival. He looked as if he'd seen a ghost. "Hi, Simeon."

Your voice brought him out of his trance.

He rushed to you and held you close. Everything about your boyfriend was gentle- his tone, his smile, his disposition... his touch normally was, too, but in this moment he held you tighter than he ever had before.

And you clung to him just as tight.

He pulled away after a minute, just taking you in- making sure you were real. His eyes turned glassy as he fought back tears. "MC... you're here. You're okay."

You nodded and felt your own eyes well up a little. "I'm okay, Simeon. I'm even better now that I'm here."

He took a shaky breath and composed himself, nodding once and turning to Luke, who was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Simeon, let's bring them to the parlor. We have so much to catch up on. We could watch a movie- oh! We could do some late night baking..."

The two of you shared a longing look as he rambled on about all the things you could do that night. There was a silent understanding between the two of you that you wanted some alone time, so he gave you a sly smile before addressing the boy.

"I know you're not going to like what I have to say, Luke, but it's getting late."

The angel frowned immediately and crossed his arms. "But Simeon, I want to spend time with MC!"

"I know, but you were already about to go to bed before answering the door. It's best to stay on schedule so you don't ruin your sleep cycle."

"But how is this any different than when you let me stay up late during our sleepovers?"

"Well..." he had a point. "I'm sure that MC is tired right now from their trip back. Time travel must be very draining, you know."

You stifled a laugh as Simeon grasped at straws to get more alone time with you and decided to help him out when he shot you a pleading look.

"Luke, how about we wake up early tomorrow and make breakfast together? Simeon's right, I'm exhausted and I want to be wide awake when we hang out. Does that sound okay? I'll spend the night and you can wake me up as soon as you wake up."

This seemed to satisfy him and he nodded, before hugging you one last time and running up to his room with a quick "Goodnight!"

You both waited for the sound of his door closing before his lips were on yours. You sighed into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. It was soft and needy and longing. Exactly what the two of you needed. Your hands tugged at his hair and his hands roamed from your waist to your hips. His touch was back to being gentle.

You stayed like that for a bit, one hand trailing down to play with the hair on the nape of his neck.

When he pulled away after a while, a little breathless, he tugged you to his bedroom and let you rummage around through the drawer of your clothes he let you have for whenever you stayed the night.

When you were both changed and laying under his covers, cuddled up as close as possible, he kissed your temple. "I missed you so much, MC..." he whispered. "I was terrified that you would be harmed."

You turned on your side to face him properly. "I'm okay, Simeon. I just missed you a lot. You were there, you know... and you were almost the same. It was so hard for me to hold back from acting how I normally would with you..." you traced a finger along the bridge of his nose and then over his cheekbones. "I had to remember that it wasn't a version of you that knows me like you do. You were so close but so far."

He caressed your cheek with his knuckles and gazed at you with a loving smile. "Well I'm here, and it's me. I'm all yours, MC. You're okay."

If he was being honest, he felt like he could breathe again. Being away from you, knowing where- when- you were and not being able to help in any way was torture. Having you back safe and sound was the biggest blessing he could ever receive.

You leaned up to kiss him again and then rested your forehead against the crook of his neck. "I love you, Simeon."

"I love you too, MC. I'm so glad you're back."

Barbatos

Once you entered the castle, you immediately asked around to find out if anyone had seen him. The first few servants had no clue, but welcomed you back to the castle with a smile. It wasn't until the fifth servant you had run into that you got an idea of where he might be.

"I believe I saw him heading down to the dungeon about an hour ago. He's been spending a lot of time there lately- when he's not tending to the prince, of course. If you wait there, he should be about done with his... ah... appointment," he said.

"Thank you!" And then you were dashing to the top of the stairs leading to the dungeon. Just as you were about to descend the staircase, a familiar figure was ascending.

You both froze and stared at each other for a good few seconds, taking in the fact that he was in his demon form, covered in blood and carrying a bag. This certainly wasn't the reunion either of you were expecting.

However that didn't matter, because as you were too excited to finally have him back, you jumped into his arms, not caring about any blood on your already trashed clothes.

"Barbatos, I've missed you so much," you sighed in the crook of his neck.

He finally seemed to register was was happening and dropped the bag, wrapping his arms around you. His tail curled around your leg as well, a seemingly unconscious act. "MC... I've missed you, too." He said, slightly breathless. It wasn't often that anyone could catch him off guard, so you smiled slightly at your achievement.

Once he regained his composure, he immediately pulled back and looked you over for any injuries he could attend to. "Are you alright, my dear? Are you hurt? When did you get back?"

You cupped his cheeks and smiled up at him. "I'm alright. I got back about an hour ago, I just woke up in my room. I wanted to see you right away after I got done with the brothers," you said, and then ran a thumb under his eye.

"I'm happy you're back." He said, bringing up the hand with the less soiled glove to rest over your own. "I feel much more at ease now that you're here."

He'd never tell you how much of an understatement that was. He felt like everything was right again. His heart had been pounding in his chest ever since you made eye contact. He'd never tell you, but he was sure that you knew.

You smiled at him teasingly. "Have you been taking your nerves out on the prisoners? Is that why you're covered in blood?"

He chuckled. "It might be. Would that be so wrong? It's an effective way to relieve stress."

You snorted as he uncoiled his tail from your leg and brought your hands down to swing in between you both as you walked. "That's fair... Barbatos, would it be too much to ask if I could stay with you tonight?"

He squeezed your hand slightly. "Not at all, I was going to insist upon it. I still have things I must tend to tonight, but I need to clean myself off first. And while I'm at it, I will get you some new clothes. Then you should see the young master to let him know you're back."

You nodded at him and clung to his arm. One thing that hadn't changed from back then was how to the point and blunt he was. It was admirable, really. He smiled a bit as you walked, feeling perfectly content for the first time in a while.

Once you were both cleaned up and dressed in fresh clothing, you headed to Diavolo's office. You weren't nearly as nervous to see him as you were your boyfriend, but nerves still bubbled in your stomach. He was a close friend, after all.

Barbatos knocked and entered, signaling for you to wait a moment. You could hear muffled speech from the other side of the door before it opened again and he ushered you in.

Diavolo's eyes lit up. "MC, welcome back! You must be so glad to be home safe. I hope you're able to rest well tonight. We'll call a meeting tomorrow with everyone so you and Solomon can explain everything in detail. For now I expect you to take it easy for tonight."

You grinned at him. "Thank you, Diavolo. I'm happy to be back." You looked at Barbatos briefly to address him in a softer tone. "Should I wait in your room or the parlor?"

He was about to respond before Diavolo cut in. "Oh, Barbatos, you're dismissed for tonight. I'm just about done here, anyway."

The butler's eyes widened. "My lord?"

"You deserve to spend this time with them, take the night off."

"...Are you sure, my lord?"

He nodded and then looked at you pointedly. It was clear he was conveying along the lines of 'get him out of here, I can't convince him on my own'.

You smiled and bowed your head at him in thanks and gently tugged your boyfriend out of the office. "Come on, my love."

Once you were back in the hallway, he looked at you. "Are you hungry? I could bake for you, it's not too late yet."

You nodded. "That would be great, thank you..." you kissed him on the cheek as you walked, laughing slightly at his still-stunned expression.

Clearly he wasn't expecting much free time tonight, but with one glance at you, he knew exactly how he wanted to spend it. "When we're done in the kitchen, I think we should turn in for the night a bit early..." he leaned in close and brushed his lips against your cheek. "Does that sound alright with you, my love?"

You shuddered and nodded, looking up at him with an expression that matched his own. "That sounds perfect."

He was so happy to have you back.

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

I'm so happy to have this done!! it was genuinely so much fun to write... I'm sorry for Barb's section being so... short? and ooc? I had the hardest time figuring out how I wanted to portray him and I think I'm going to have to keep working on it cause I'm not 100% happy with it, but we'll see!

I also dug up some unrealized feelings I have for Diavolo with this fic, cause now I'm like totally head over heels for him.

all in all though, I hope you enjoyed!!

[gisellecnz]

Just one random day with your classmates during the year 2006.

"Uhh... Guys, I think we should head back already... " You said in a concerned tone. You look at the time, it's already 5:06 but Yaga-sensei has told everyone to come back before 4:10. You were getting anxious of what would happen once you all came back.

Gojo looks at you and sighs while rolling his eyes, "Oh come on y/n, it's not like we'd all end up DYING because we didn't follow yaga-sensei's order."

"But-" before you could say something, Geto cuts you off.

"Yeah, I wanna stay here for a bit. It's been a long time since I've eaten pork curry." You sighed. You looked at Shoko, trying to ask for help because of Gojo and Geto's unperturbedness about returning to Yaga-sensei, but it seems like she was too focused on her food to listen of what was going on.

Suddenly, you jumped when a loud ringing of your phone was vibrating from your pocket. When you checked who was calling, it was Yaga. Your heart dropped. You really wanna go back to school but your three groupmates just refuses to. You could go on your own if you could, but you just can't. Without the three's company, you'd be lost by now. You don't know why in the world you were in the same year as these unbothered people.

You've been in Jujutsu high for months but this was the first time you got sent into a mission wherein you have to go somewhere really far. You were personally Yaga's favorite for being more obedient than the rest, but right now he would probably change his mind...

You answered the call and put your phone to your ear, but you were taken aback and flinched when Yaga's loud voice came screaming into the speakers of your phone. "WHERE THE HELL ARE ALL OF YOU!?!? YOU'RE ALL 57 MINUTES LATE!"

"I'm so sorry Yaga-sensei! I-" But before you could finish your sentence, Gojo snatches your phone away from your hand, and hangs up the call.

"What the h- Hey! Satoru what the fuck!?! That was Yaga-sensei! We're in so much trouble right now and you had to hang up on him too!?!" You tried reaching back for your phone, but he won't return it to you yet.

"Tsk, we don't give a shit about that old man, if he tries to plan some sort of execution on us that wouldn't work. Me and Suguru with just one flick could end the world already, and if anybody got hurt Shoko could just use her "mighty" healing powers."

Gojo says whilst lifting your phone high up in the air, you wouldnt even be able to reach it due to his abnormally large height. Gosh. You hate this man. He's been teasing you nonstop every single day.

Geto looks at you, "Satoru's right, it's fine y/n. It's been a long time since we've gotten a hangout together. Let's just use this time as our hangout."

Geto's words came ringing to your ear, "it's been a long time since we've gotten a hangout together"

.. I guess he is right, despite you weren't sent to go on far missions and have only been doing your missions inside Jujutsu high, you haven't been going out lately and have fun. Especially with the others too.

That is why, after that, you all went spree shopping. And had fun riding in Suguru's rainbow dragon.

bonus:

"... Alright, who's IDEA was it?" Yaga sensei said. He was looking at all of you while pinching his nose in annoyance.

*everyone points at Satoru*

Satoru looks around and felt betrayed. "Wha- why me!?!? Guys!"

".. So it is you, Satoru. Your gonna have to go with me."

While Satoru was getting dragged by Yaga sensei, he secretly pulled up a middle finger at all of you, in response, you sticked your tongue out for him.

not really a gojo x reader fic but I'm keeping the tags cuz why not 😝

[resident-idiot-simp]

You can write something where someone makes a sarcastic comment about Wade's appearance, and Logan defends him. with a lot of angst/comfort

(Sorry if my message is not very understandable I am French and use google trad 😭)

(your good my friend Google translate is probably better than my grammar anyways)

Wade was used to the weird looks and whispered comments that came with his appearance. He was used to it but that doesn't mean he enjoyed it

Logan had been shocked the first time he saw his face he hit it well but it was still obvious. Logan however had gotten used to it he had lived with all kinds of mutants with different appearances It wasn't any different.

He was also familiar with how others looked at those who were different and he had always hated it. He hated it every more because this was Wade. Wade who he loved who had saved him.

It was a normal day when it happened they were in the park with Mary and Laura who was actively trying to climb a tree a little way away.

The two of them were talking minding their own business when a comment caught their attention.

"Jesus Christ what happened to that freak?"

Wade froze and shrunk in on himself as Logan held back a snarl. Laura was the closest to the man who made time comment and had hopped out of the tree. She was glaring the man down lips pulled into a sneer.

Logan made his way over as Laura had started cursing the man out in Spanish. "Kit back off." Logan called to her. She turned and responded in clipped Spanish, 'WHY HE WAS INSULTING POP!?'

Logan too switched to Spanish responding, 'I know but I'd rather get in trouble then you.'

Laura scoffed but didn't continue her tirade. Logan turned back to the man scowl obvious. "The hell is your problem man?"

"MY PROBLEM?! First of all what the hell is wrong with her!?" The man said gesturing to a pissed Laura.

That's didn't help Logan's anger, "Sorry if the kit is protective of her pop. Lord forbid she gets pissy because you can't watch your mouth."

The man puffed up indignantly, "What's so offensive I'm just asking questions ."

Logan wasn't an animal he wasn't an animal he was better then his base instincts he was. Laura was growling now and Logan had to get ahold of this before blood was drawn.

"Look it's not my fault you are being an insensitive prick with no tact." Logan shot back and the man just rolled his eyes, "Oh I'm sorry for pointing out the obvious how dare I."

"Is that how you treat all vets?" Logan drawled and that stunned the man silent. Logan didn't allow that, "No keep going if that how you treat people who were tricked and tortured?"

More silence

"What nothing to say? Thought you were just stating facts?" Logan needled and again nothing. Logan leaned in this time to where only Laura and the guy would be able to hear him.

"I've killed people for less then what you've just done. So go before I decided I'm doing a community service." Logan pulled back and flashed abnormally sharp fangs.

The man ran off and Logan just scoffed.

Wade was still shrunken in on himself and Logan hated it. He shared a look with Laura before walking back over. "How about we go harass Weasel? We might even be able to get a job out of it."

Wade's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "Only if I can start a bar fight." He bargained. Logan rolled his eyes, "You were going to do that anyway bub."

[anundyingfidelity]

YES, MA’AM — Sam Winchester/Sam Wesson ft. Dean Winchester/Dean Smith (Chapter I)

Summary: Sam is the new tech support guy at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc., and he thinks you, his supervisor, are related to him in ways more than professional. He not only dreams of ghosts and Dean Smith, the sales and marketing director, but you, the pretty boss who seems very fond of him, maybe a little too much.

Word count: 1.3k.

Pairing: Sam W./Sam Wesson x female reader (main), Dean W./Dean Smith x female reader. Situated in 4x17 - It's a Terrible Life.

Warnings for this series: smut with plot, sexual tension, sub!Sam, dom!reader, switch!Dean, co-workers with benefits with Dean, boss/employee dynamics, canon violence and stuff. Slow updates oops.

Notes: welcome to my very first spn fanfic, hope you enjoy this short series of Sam and Dean!

If you'd like to be added, the taglist is here!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Chapter I | Chapter II

Chapter I: A Boring Life

Taking a quick look at the clock on the corner of the screen of his computer, Sam let out a long sigh. Lunch hour was far from near. He continued drawing the monsters he saw in his dreams on the notebook, those who wouldn't let him continue his abnormally boring and stupid life.

"Hey, Sam," a voice called, making him jump slightly on his seat.

He cleared his throat shutting the notebook and sitting right this time as he took in your figure towering over him in the cubicle with a smile on your lips.

"Hi, uhm... Is something wrong?"

You chuckled slightly. He wanted to slap himself for saying that. For Sam, bosses coming to him meant he might have done something wrong. He didn't want to know what he screwed up. Barely three weeks have passed since he started working there. As much as things were strange and weird around, Sam just wanted a quiet life.

"Not at all," you answered in a friendly manner. "Actually I just wanted to give you kudos. I've received good compliments from customers who called for help, you're doing excellent!"

Sam breathed out, feeling a heavy weight on his back dropping. He smiled. "Well, thank you. It feels good doing that."

But a raise or something would feel absolutely better, he thought.

"Sure! You're brilliant, have you ever been told that?"

"Uhm, not here. I mean- I want to say you're the first one. Sorry, the first one to say I'm brilliant, I- uhm I never really got kudos before? I don't think so but it does feel great."

He stumbled so much with his words that it made you laugh a little but he noticed you tried to suppress it. So you gave him a nod.

"Yeah, of course. I also see you're very organized with your stuff and reports," you remarked before taking a quick glance around and leaning a little bit toward him, your face morphing into a shy look. "Probably I shouldn't but could you help me with some reports today? You'd be off the phone, I just really need to send them by the end of the day and I'm extremely busy."

You bit your painted lower lip with big doe eyes, waiting for an answer. Since the first day he saw you around the company, he thought you looked extremely familiar. Like he had seen you before. Hell, it was like he knew you ages ago. But he wouldn't say it out loud, he might look like a creep.

You'd usually come like this to his spot just to talk and get into business, sometimes he'd go to ask you something he wasn't sure about from a call, but he never, ever herd from a complaint or that his work was shit from you. In fact, you were very kind and smart, always letting him know you were there if he needed anything. And you were pretty. So damn beautiful that you got his heart agitated and his body aching when you bent over a desk wearing tight black pencil skirts and those matching high stockings. He began to think probably you liked him but you used to get close to all of your employees on the tech support floor. You were just being nice to everyone.

"Uh, sure. I can do that," Sam curved his lips into a smile.

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver! I'll send you those in your email, ask me anything if it's difficult, okay?"

You responded with happy demeanour and quickly walked away back to your office, leaving him alone before he had the moment to say something. Just two minutes later he received an email from you with a bunch of reports and data to organize.

Sam scanned the files quickly while hearing the sounds of a chair rolling to his side.

"I think she likes you, man," Ian, the messy and chill coworker of his, teased. Sam chuckled.

"Nah, she's just nice to everyone. Besides, she needs help."

Suddenly, a notification popped from the side of his screen on the computer.

It was a message from you. It read:

Put on the headphones and listen to some music if you want ;)

"You were saying?" Ian joked again.

He smiled. Well, at least he'd be off the phone. Shouldn't be that hard, right?

The night fell and Sam found himself alone on his desk at eight o'clock working on your reports. Seeing the long reports and files he thought could make it on time to finish his shift at four and leave on time. It was fucking Friday. Poor him.

At least you ordered delivery for dinner for both of you. The good thing was that he wasn't really alone on the floor, you were in your office but soft music played as you worked on your stuff. Moments later, you found yourself sitting by Sam's side as he worked the final things on the last report.

"It's done," he announced, his body falling to the backrest of his chair.

"Thanks," you whispered shyly as he sent the finished files back to you. "I'm so sorry though, it's so late."

"Well, didn't have anything to do either."

"Really?!"

Your surprise made his eyes fall on you. He shrugged. "Just sleep."

You raised your eyebrows. "I thought maybe a girlfriend was waiting for you or something?"

He shook his head, pressing his lips together. "No, nothing like that."

The question was odd coming from you, so he decided to play a little.

"What about you?"

This time you shook your head. "Just my books and my TV."

Sam hummed. "It's a boring life, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well I get to pay my bills by the end of the month... And I meet nice people here... And I see you- Sorry."

You cut off your words all of a sudden, your eyes blinking rapidly saying you realized what you just said.

"My bad. We should get going."

You gave him a smile to try and brush off your words, but they were strong enough to get in Sam's head unnoticed. He watched you walk away, turning your computer and lights off on your office as Sam did the same on his spot. Once done, you walked out the floor together in silence.

"Thank you again. I don't think no one would ever do this for me here," you admitted with a deep exhale.

"Yeah, no problem," Sam smiled kindly as you got closer to the elevator.

"Really, I owe you. Do you have a car to get home or something? I can give you a ride if you need."

"I do, don't worry," he said as you stopped in front of the elevator, the doors opening.

"Great, so I think this is it," you grinned at him. "Have a good night."

"Thanks. I hope you have a good weekend, boss."

You nodded. "You too, Sam. Take care."

He saw you disappearing inside the elevator with a wave of your hand and a beautiful smile on your face. With a sigh, he made his way to the locker room and took his briefcase and stuff out. It was just a couple of minutes that he saw you leaving when he went back to the elevator. Checking his watch, the lift arrived and before he could get inside, he got a shocking picture in front of him.

Dean Smith, the marketing director, had you pinned against the wall and kissing down your neck. Your blouse unbuttoned, skirt up, lips open and eyes closed in bliss. Dean noticed the doors were open, pulling away his plump lips from your skin.

"Sorry buddy, wrong floor," he beamed and pushed the right button.

When you opened your eyes once again, you met Sam's open mouth and wide eyes as the doors closed. Great, now he might think you're a slut. 

[dramaticallytotal]

Please expand on the other contestants finding out about Noah’s International Harem, cause it’s hilarious to me that they see this no game barely there guy and bam! he is an international heartthrob.

"Wow, Noah! I didn't know you had it in you!" Chris exclaimed with a laugh.

"What are you talking about, McLean?" Noah asked with a frown.

Chris shook his head in fondness. Noah would always be Noah, even after being flirted with while being recorded for a reality show. He really didn't think that punk boy that showed up with that, basically a mob, group of other punks from the club Duncan had been performing at was Noah's type.

"I mean, it looks like you just got yourself a punk boyfriend, dude! What, was our resident delinquent not up to your standards or tastes?"

Duncan yelled in offense at that, which made Chris smirk.

Noah, of course, rolled his eyes at Chris. "Are you deaf Old Man? Ezra was just interested in my thoughts on my book since he's read it before."

The once noisy space was absolutely silent at Noah's words.

And as though he didn't notice the silence (he didn't), Noah continued, "Plus, he acknowledged we wouldn't have a lot of time to go too in depth in our comparative analyses because of the show and he was intrigued by my view on the last chapter when I get to it so we exchanged numbers."

Silence.

Finally, Noah noticed it and looked up to everyone staring at him like he was stupid, or they just looked plain shocked. "What?"

Slowly, Chris approached Noah and put a hand on his shoulder, "Kid....that dude was hella flirting with you. Like...hella. The book was an excuse to talk to you."

"What? No, it wasn't." Noah said, though he didn't sound as sure as he usually did.

"Yeah, no. Chris is right, Noah. That guy was really hitting on you. He chose the book as an excuse because otherwise, you would have made him cry for even approaching you. He probably noticed that and thought the best way to get your attention was to ask what you were reading." Courtney stated.

Poor Noah just looked so lost. "But what about...?"

"Woah! Noah! That means Ezra is like the sixth boy to hit on you using books as an opening and the sixth to get your number from it. Haha, wild!" Izzy laughed from her perch on Owen's shoulders. Despite them not dating anymore, they were still touchy-feely friends.

"Excuse me!?" Chris was fine with the one dude but six. SIX. Who do these boys think they are???

"HOW!?" Heather yelled. She wasn't the only one who looked like they were thinking that, but she was the one to voice it.

"SIX!? WHEN?" Everyone turned to who shouted that, and it ended up being Alejandro, who also looked surprised at his shout.

"Well, there was that one in Egypt who was staying at the same hotel as us, and Izzy wanted to swim! So I dragged Noah, Eva, and Owen with. Then there was the cutie in Japan when Owen wanted to go to that karaoke restaurant, and Noah didn't like our duet, so he went outside. Oh, oh! Then! There was the American in New York who -" Izzy's rant was cut off by Noah somehow climbing up Owen to silence Izzy but putting a hand over her mouth.

His face was noticeable red, and he looked so distressed.

"Holy shit..." Duncan whispered before he started cackling. Everyone just watched as the punk laughed and laughed till there were tears in his eyes. "Who knew the loser had it in him!"

"Dude....six guys is..." Gwen looked like she was trying to hold back her own laughter. She failed and also started laughing. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Noah, it's just... dude! You have no game! None! How?"

"Hey!"

"No 'hey', man, you know it's true." Chris finally said despite the fact he would definitely be asking Izzy just who those boys were later.

"OHEMGEE!" Everyone startled when Sierra, who had been abnormally silent till then. It had scared Izzy and Noah so bad that they both fell off Owen's shoulders. "This is like so many animes I've watched! Noah! You have a harem! I can't believe I get to see one happen, IRL!!"

Chris had never seen Noah go from so flustered to pale in seconds flat before, but there was a first time for everything. The aforementioned boy quickly scrambled off the floor, huffing and puffing before pointing at Sierra dramatically, "You will not make that a thing! It's not even a thing! I don't have a harem!"

"My little buddy is so popular!" Owen squealed.

"Owen!" Noah screeched betrayed.

"You...are very popular amigo..." Alejandro chuckled, but even to Chris, it sounded forced.

Well... this is not what Chris had intended to happen, not that he knew what would happen by teasing Noah about the punk boy, but still. "So, are you going to message them all once the show is over?" He had to know.

Heather was still just standing there with her mouth agape while Courtney was yelling at Gwen and Duncan to get a grip. Cody looked like he wanted to comfort Noah, who was sandwiched between Izzy, Eva, and Owen, but he currently had Sierra gripping his arm and talking his ear off about the harem trope.

Alejandro, though, Alejandro looked shocked beyond words but also very angry. Chris would say the guy looked more jealous, but no way was he going to voice that.

Tyler looked confused but supportive.

Poor Noah looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. Like a bomb going off, the boy pulled away from his friends and seemed to explode. "HOW CAN I MESSAGE THEM ALL IF THEY ALL WERE SUPPOSEDLY INTO ME?"

"WHAT KIND OF PERSON WOULD THAT MAKE ME?" Okay, this was a bigger reaction than Chris had anticipated. "I CAN'T JUST MESSAGE THEM ALL?? WOULDN'T THAT BE ME LEADING THEM ON? I DON'T WANT TO LEAD ANY OF THEM ON! THEY WERE NICE! BUT I THOUGHT THEY JUST WANTED TO DISCUSS BOOKS! THAT'S WHAT I'M GOOD AT! WHAT IF THEY- WHAT IF-"

It was when Noah started hyperventilating that they realized just how distressed Noah actually was about this. That's what it took to get Gwen and Duncan to stop laughing.

It snapped several people into action. Namely Gwen, Courtney, Heather and Eva who rushed to calm Noah down and the rest who awkwardly watched.

Oops.

[cha-melodius]

Fic Fest!!

You know it’s gonna be FirstPrince … and I need that Kennedy Garden AU!

Congrats on your 100th work!! You’re an incredible writer and person and I feel quite fortunate to know you.

(Thank you for this lovely prompt Sam!! I'm sorry this took forever, but I hope you enjoy this AU!)

Flowers Only Grow Where There Are Seeds

(T, 4k, read it below or on AO3)

“Are you watching that guy like a weirdo creep again?” June asks, too close to his ear, and Alex jumps a fucking mile.

“I’m not being a weirdo creep,” he huffs, folding his arms over his chest as he steps away from the window overlooking the Kennedy Gardens.

June gives him a look. “But you are watching him.”

“I was just— I was walking by and I happened to notice him, and—”

“You should go talk to him,” June interrupts blithely, already sauntering away.

“What? No,” Alex scoffs.

“Why not? He’d probably be flattered he caught the attention of the First Son.”

“He’s working, June,” Alex says. “He doesn’t want to be bothered.”

June shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

~~~~~

Alex doesn’t know exactly what about the gardener first caught his attention. Maybe it was the fact that he was younger than a lot of the other people who were employed to work on the landscaping at the White House—Alex’s age, or thereabouts. Maybe it was the way he was always still somehow so pale after working in the sun all day. Maybe it was the fact that he could have been a model, with his long legs and swooping cheekbones and full lips, and yet he was spending his days clipping bushes and digging up bulbs.

Actually, all of that’s a lie: Alex knows exactly when the gardener caught his attention.

It had been an abnormally warm early spring day, and he’d been pacing in front of a bank of windows as he tried to wrestle his ideas into something that might resemble a coherent essay for one of his classes. He wasn’t even looking out at the gardens, not really, but a flash of movement caught his eye and drew him over to the glass. A hose had failed somehow, leaving the man who’d been working with it looking like he was re-enacting Mr. Darcy emerging from the lake (what? June has those movies on all the time, it’s not like it’s his fault if he gets caught up in them sometimes). The gardener had plucked at his thin white shirt as it clung to his torso, revealing a truly breathtaking collection of muscles sculpted by regular manual labor, before he’d finally peeled the whole thing off, taking his dingy ball cap with it.

That was when Alex discovered that they were currently employing what might very well be the most gorgeous man on the planet.

That was also when Alex realized he might be something less than 100% straight. Ok, it had taken some more time after that, and more than a few instances of catching sight of the beautiful gardener again, before he started to understand what he was feeling. He still isn’t really sure if he’s actually bi or just lonely and horny, but that was definitely the start.

He’s well aware of how weird it would be to go hit on the man, for many, many reasons, so he just… appreciates from a distance. It’s fine. In a few months it will be winter again, and Alex probably won’t see him around anymore. He’ll get over his stupid little infatuation on someone he’s never even spoken to, and that will be that.

~~~~~

It’s one of those days, when there’s too much going on and he can’t get Cash to go with him on a run outside of the White House grounds, so Alex just ends up looping endlessly around in little circles on the path around the South Lawn, trying to get out some of the excess energy that’s thrumming in his veins. Eventually, he manages to tire himself out enough and ends up sprawled out on his back behind some bushes in the Children’s Garden, staring up as the clouds drift past. He doesn’t know how long he lies there, only that he still hasn’t quite come back to earth when he hears the sound of footsteps on the nearby path. Probably he should get up, but he can’t really bring himself to care who sees him like this.

That’s before the hot gardener comes around the corner. His light blue button-down shirt is hanging open, thrown loosely over a white tank top that’s smudged with dirt and sweat-darkened at the neckline, and Alex might have fallen over if he wasn’t already on the ground.

“Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was out here,” the gardener says. The accent is a surprise. An extremely sexy surprise. Fuck. “Do you need a hand?”

Alex could use a hand with something, all right. In his own tank top and the running shorts that June says are an inch away from a misdemeanor, he’s really not wearing enough clothing for this. Or maybe he’s wearing too much. Closing his eyes, he forces himself to get a fucking grip before he starts to push up off the ground. The gardener’s proffered hand appears in his line of vision, so he takes it because it would be more awkward not to. It’s warm and dry and rough with callouses that Alex feels no particular way about, and he lets the gardener’s strong grip tug him upward, until he gets his feet under him again.

It’s only then that the gardener seems to clock him. His eyes go wide as they track over Alex’s body and linger on his face. “Oh. You’re…”

Their hands are still clasped together, and Alex tightens his hold around Henry’s. “Alex.”

“Henry,” the gardener says in return as his lips part in a smile, which is devastating, actually.

“Nice to meet you, Henry,” Alex says. He might let a little of the southern drawl slip out, honey smooth. Sue him.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Henry replies, his rounded vowels dipping low, and ok, he’s a smooth motherfucker too. Alex is officially fucked.

“You’re British.”

Henry laughs, cocking an eyebrow at him. “An astute observation.”

“No I just mean—” Alex cuts himself off and shakes his head. “I didn’t expect it, but I guess it fits.”

“Why?” Henry asks, tipping his head as a little furrow appears between his brows.

Alex bites his lip. “Because everything about you is unexpected, Henry.”

~~~~~

Alex should leave him alone. He should listen to what he told June and not bother a White House employee when he’s working.

The thing about Henry, though, is that he’s ridiculously easy to talk to, and he always seems so pleased to see Alex. It’s impossible to stay away whenever Alex spots him working in the gardens, which is frequently these days. It’s the middle of summer, which means Henry is mostly working in the mornings and evenings when the heat isn’t quite so bad, but occasionally Alex finds him doing something ridiculous like digging a hole to plant a bush in the middle of the day.

As he’s now wont to do, Alex makes his way out to the gardens with a large glass of lemonade. Henry’s entire face lights up when he sees Alex coming, which Alex is sure is less because of him and more the promise of ice cold refreshment. The poor guy is absolutely drenched in sweat, which Alex absolutely is not thinking about licking off his collarbones. As Alex walks up to him, Henry sinks the shovel into the loose dirt and pulls his ball cap off, the muscles of his arms rippling when he pushes a hand through blond hair darkened with sweat. Alex narrowly avoids swallowing his tongue as he hands the glass off, and when their fingers brush, Alex feels the contact tingling in his fingertips long after Henry’s pulled away.

And that’s before Henry tips his head back and takes a long drink of the lemonade, the muscles of his throat working as he swallows. Thank fuck it’s hot outside, because Alex is sweating like he’s the one who’s been working in the sun for hours.

Somehow, he manages to regain his faculties for conversation by the time Henry’s finished the lemonade, and they fall into their usual easy banter as Henry works. (Alex once offered to help out, feeling bad for standing around while Henry was sweating his ass off, and Henry had laughed and laughed and told him that he’d be fired if he let the First Son do his job for him.) They talk about everything and nothing—about movies and music, about the best food trucks that frequent the area around the mall, about what Alex has been up to during the summer, about the many projects always going on in the gardens.

“How’d you end up working here, anyway?” Alex asks from where he’s reclining in the shade, plucking bits of grass out of the lawn and tearing them apart.

“It’s a long story,” Henry grunts as he shovels. “I moved to the US for a fresh start. The gardening, I sort of fell into. I needed a job, and I always liked working with my hands. I’m certain that my friend sent me this listing as a joke because I—” His voice fails as his eyes cut over to Alex, then drop quickly to the ground again. He clears his throat. “Well. It’s not important. But I decided to apply anyway. I think Rodolfo thought I was having him on when I showed up at the interview, but he must have seen something in me.” Henry huffs a laugh. “Or maybe I was the only one who passed all the frankly mental background checks that were required to work at the White House. And now, here I am.”

“You’re my age,” Alex says, squinting at him. “You didn’t go to college?”

“I dropped out of Oxford,” Henry replies simply.

Alex can’t help it; his jaw drops open. “You dropped out of Oxford? What happened? Did you not like it?”

He knows he shouldn’t pry, but he can’t help it. He wants to know everything about Henry.

“I loved it,” Henry says, and there’s a smile on his face but an unmistakably melancholic note in his voice. “I wanted to be a writer. But I couldn’t stay. Not with the pressure from my grandmother and the way she was insistent on ruling my life.” He stops speaking for a long moment, but never pauses in his digging. “Sometimes I think about going back to school eventually. For now, I’m happy with this. I like it. There’s a beautiful simplicity to my life.”

“Wow,” Alex breathes. For once, he doesn’t really know what to say. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Henry. But for what it’s worth… I’m glad you ended up here.”

Henry leans on the shovel, smiling at him. “Me, too.”

~~~~~

Alex is trying to make any kind of sense of a bill that the Republicans are going to try to push through the Senate—don’t ask how he got the draft—when Nora lets herself into his room without so much as a knock.

“Wow, entitled much,” Alex huffs, barely glancing up from his work. At least she brought burritos.

“You invited me here, dumbass,” Nora retorts as she flings herself onto his couch. “Remember? Bisexual awakening movie night? Don’t tell me you forgot about Rick and Evie.”

Alex groans, wiping a hand over his face. “No way it’s fucking Sunday.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I might be.”

“All the more reason you need a break,” Nora tells him firmly. “Your classes don’t start for another week. Why are you working?”

“Because I’m gonna be a senior next year and I have to have something lined up for afterward,” he grumbles.

“I’m sure your mom will give you a job on the campaign,” she says as she finds the remote to his TV and starts navigating through streaming services.

“Maybe I want options. Don’t want everyone to think I’m just a useless nepo baby.”

Nora snorts. “Because I’m sure no one will think your connections got you a job in Rafael Luna’s office.”

“Fuck off,” he groans, turning away from her again. “We’re not talking about this.”

“Ok,” she agrees, too easily. “You got a secret admirer or something? Who sent you those?”

“What?”

“Those,” Nora repeats, gesturing to the small vase full of multicolored roses that’s sitting in front of her on his coffee table. Red, lavender, orange, blue, and even these neat yellow ones tipped with red around the edge of the petals.

“Oh,” Alex says dismissively. “No one sent them. Henry brought them by.”

“Who the fuck is Henry?”

“He’s a gardener who works here.”

“Hold on, the gardener? Your gardener?” she says, sounding too delighted by half. Alex may have talked about him before, once or twice.

Alex huffs and sets his pencil down, turning back to glare at her. “He’s not my gardener. He’s an employee of the White House.”

Nora grins smugly. “He’s the one you’ve got a crush on, though.”

“I don’t—” He breaks off with a frustrated grunt. “We’re not having this conversation, either.”

“And he brought you flowers,” she continues, ignoring him.

“It doesn’t mean anything. He has to prune the roses so that they keep producing more blooms, and he brought me some extras because I said I liked them one day while I was out in the garden. That’s all.”

That’s what Henry told him when he showed up with the first ones, his face flushed red from being out in the sun. Alex’s heart had done something very fucking complicated in his chest, but he’d accepted them in the spirit with which they were given: as a friendly gesture, and nothing more. The haphazard arrangement is all Alex—Henry brings by a different color almost every day, and Alex adds them in the vase, which is getting rather full.

“That’s all,” Nora scoffs with obvious deep skepticism.

“What?”

“Alex, when a boy gives you roses, it always means something,” she says solemnly. “Did you look up the colors?”

“Huh?” he replies, becoming increasingly lost.

Nora shakes her head at him, like he’s the crazy one. “Different colored roses mean different things. Maybe he’s sending you secret messages.”

Alex snorts dismissively. “Pretty sure they’re just whatever’s blooming in the garden.”

“If you say so,” she says, sounding extremely unconvinced. “Can we watch the movie now?”

“Please.”

~~~~~

By the time November rolls around, the gardens are looking pretty dire. Alex never really took notice of what was going on before this year—the plants were just there, in the background, and sometimes it was more colorful than others. Now, though, he notices. Notices the autumn flowers as they come into bloom and die back, notices the trees dropping their leaves, notices the bushes getting thin and scraggly. Henry’s still been around, working in jackets and hoodies as the temperature dips, but between the lessened need for garden care and Alex’s punishing course load, they haven’t seen each other as much. Alex pretends like he doesn’t know that’s why he gets unaccountably grumpy sometimes.

Today he’s on a mission, though, and after confirming that Henry was on the work schedule, Alex scours the grounds until he finds Henry by the tennis court, trimming some bushes. There’s a biting chill in the air, and Henry is bundled up, his nose and cheeks red from the cold. He seems surprised but pleased to see Alex, and Alex bites down on a too-large grin as he holds out the envelope he’d brought with him.

“What’s this?” Henry asks, pulling off his work gloves before he takes it and carefully breaks the seal.

Alex shifts nervously and jams his hands in his pants pockets so he doesn’t fidget. “It’s an invitation. To our big New Year’s party? You’ve probably heard about it.”

“I’m familiar, yes,” Henry says dryly, smirking a little as he glances up from the embossed paper. “But I was under the impression seats were thousands of dollars and reserved for the who’s who of America’s hot young glitterati.”

“First off, you’re young and hot, and it doesn’t matter if you’re not rich,” Alex says, pretending that he didn’t just call Henry hot to his face. Whatever. It’s an objective truth. “We waive the seat cost when there’s someone we really want to come that can't afford it.”

“And you really want me to come,” Henry surmises, still looking vaguely amused by the situation.

Fuck it. “Yes,” Alex answers firmly.

Henry looks back down at the invitation, trailing a finger over the engraving. “I can afford it,” he mutters.

“What?”

“I said, I can afford it,” Henry repeats as he meets Alex’s eyes again. “I know I don’t look it most days, but I have a rather large inheritance that I’m delighted to spend on good causes.”

Alex blinks. He knew Henry’s family back in England was wealthy, but he kind of assumed that after Henry dropped out and moved across an ocean to work as a gardener, he wasn’t in the same boat. “Oh,” he breathes. “Well, you can certainly donate if you want.”

“I do,” Henry confirms. He taps on the invitation with a finger. “It says here I get a plus one.”

Alex’s heart plummets to somewhere near the Earth’s core. Of course Henry has someone. He’s young and hot and amazing, and it’s frankly ridiculous to think he wouldn’t already have a significant other. Or maybe there’s someone he wants to impress—an invite to the year’s biggest party would do wonders. Alex is just the guy that pesters him while he’s working. He never had a shot.

“Yeah,” he manages, cursing the way the word croaks out of his throat. “Of course. It’s, ah, standard, I guess, so if you want to bring someone…”

Henry just smiles at him. “Wonderful.”

~~~~~

Alex stares up at the stars, watching as the cloud of his breath briefly obscures them, making them twinkle before it dissipates. It’s freezing out here, especially after being in the heat generated by the crush of bodies at the party, but for once, Alex appreciates that. He takes another breath, letting the cold air flowing into his lungs numb the ache in his chest.

The crunch of footsteps on the frosted lawn draws his attention, and he looks over to see Henry hovering nearby, still nothing short of stunning in his clean black tux.

He’d arrived with an ostentatiously dressed man he introduced as his best mate Pez, which was a fucking trip because of course Alex had heard of Percy Okonjo. Pez was charming and handsome and immediately the life of the party, but Alex couldn’t tear his eyes away from Henry. Saying he cleaned up well would be a trite cliche, but fuck if it wasn’t true; he looked more like a prince or a movie star than the boy with dirt ground into the creases of his hands that Alex knows. Alex had been buoyed for a while by the fact that Henry had not brought a date with him, but as midnight crept closer, his spirits had started sinking again.

The Kennedy Gardens had seemed like a safe place to retreat. He should have known better. 

“I’m fairly certain the host isn’t supposed to hide from the party,” Henry teases gently, a tentative smile playing on his lips.

“I’m only one of three. June and Nora have it on lock,” Alex replies with a sigh. “Sorry for leaving you to the wolves though.”

“It’s fine,” Henry says, shaking his head as he walks a little closer. “Believe it or not, this isn’t my first time at this kind of soirée.”

Alex snorts at that. “Oh, a soirée. Aren’t you fancy?”

“Says the man in a velvet tuxedo.”

“Touché,” Alex returns. His smile falters a little as he stares back up at the stars. “I needed a break. Don’t get me wrong, I usually fucking thrive at these things, but sometimes being ‘on’ all the time starts to wear on you, you know?”

“Why do you think I’m a gardener?” Henry says wryly.

“Fair enough,” Alex says with a puff of laughter. “I just… needed a moment to myself, I guess.”

“I shouldn’t intrude, then,” Henry replies softly, already stepping backwards.

“No,” Alex blurts, probably too desperately, but he couldn’t care less about that if it means Henry won’t leave. “I mean, you don’t have to go. I don’t mind the company. When it’s you.”

Henry halts in his tracks, his eyes going wide. “Oh.”

Thankfully, he stops trying to leave and instead comes closer, until he’s right next to Alex, a few bare, aching inches separating their shoulders. For a moment they both just stand there staring up at the sky, until the champagne soaking Alex’s brain gets the better of him.

“If I’m being honest, I wasn’t so excited to count down to the New Year.”

Henry shifts a little to face him more directly. “No?”

Alex shrugs. “The winter’s one thing when you’ve got the holidays to look forward to, but after tonight, it’s nothing but cold and gray. Everything’s dead and brown, and it’ll be months until things are growing again, and you won’t be around…”

He trails off slightly too late to save himself. Whatever. He’s allowed to say he’s going to miss seeing a friend. He stares fixedly up at the sky, resolutely refusing to look at whatever Henry’s face is doing, but then Henry moves to stand in front of him, and he has little choice but to meet those gorgeous blue eyes. They’re crinkled slightly in amusement, but not unkindly.

Fond, he thinks distantly. Henry looks fond.

“Let me make sure I have this right,” Henry says carefully. “You’re out here pouting tonight because you think this is the last time you’re going to see me until spring?”

Alex huffs out a laugh and looks down, feeling his face heat. “I mean, I don’t know if I’d put it that way.”

“You’re wrong about some things, love,” Henry replies, inching closer. Moving slowly, he reaches out to slide a hand onto Alex’s waist, the mere pressure of it lighting a fire under Alex’s skin even as Alex trembles involuntarily under his touch. Then he looks out at the gardens. “They’re not dead. A bit dormant, perhaps, but still in need of care. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not?” Alex asks breathlessly.

Henry shakes his head. “There’s plenty to do over the winter. Planning, cleaning, prepping the beds… Rodolfo has plenty to keep us busy. I’ll admit, I was intending on taking some time off, but you certainly won’t get rid of me that easily.”

Alex feels like he’s fucking flying, or would be if Henry’s steady presence wasn’t tethering him to the ground. He’s shifted even closer now, nearly pressing Alex back against the tree, and Alex lifts his arms to loop loosely over Henry’s shoulders as he lets a pleased grin curl onto his lips. “There aren’t any roses, though.”

“I’ll buy you roses, you absolute menace,” Henry huffs, but he’s smiling too broadly to sell being put out about it.

“I have another confession,” Alex breathes into the rapidly vanishing space between their lips. “I also ran away because I wanted to kiss you at midnight, but I couldn’t.”

Henry pauses, pulling back a little, though he thankfully doesn’t let go. “Ah. I understand if you can’t afford the questions—”

“No, that’s not it. I don’t care who knows. I mean, I should probably make a plan for officially coming out, but that’s not why,” Alex jumps in before he can get anything else out, because it’s important that Henry knows.

Alex isn’t ashamed and he doesn’t want to hide but, like so many things in his life, it’s not that simple. He takes a deep breath, forcing his jumbled thoughts into something that makes sense, which is no mean feat when he’s tipsy and his arms are full of a very handsome gardener who he’d much rather be kissing.

“It’s a lot, being in the public eye the way I am, and I couldn’t ask that of you,” Alex says as he stares fixedly at Henry’s tie. It’s got little yellow roses on it, and he can’t resist dropping a hand down to run a finger down the silk. “You like your quiet life.”

“I like it,” Henry murmurs. He lifts a hand to Alex’s chin, his fingers icy cold on Alex’s overheated skin, and nudges Alex’s face up so that their eyes meet. “I like you more.”

“Oh,” Alex breathes.

“Now, about that New Year’s kiss…”

Henry is biting his lip, looking hopeful and coy all at once as he stares down at Alex through pale lashes, and Alex… can’t believe this is his life, actually. He’s going to enjoy it while it lasts, though—just them, in the garden that brought them together, and a kiss that holds as much endless potential as the plants around them. Not fragile but resilient, perennial, ready to grow and bloom into something truly incredible.

[aishangotome]

Luke & Gilbert's Story of Reminiscence [The Day We Became a Fake Family] - Part 3

Part 2

The one-eyed youth, clad in the scent of blood and gunpowder, was smiling refreshingly as always.

It didn't take long for me to realize that there wasn't much difference between the youth's environment on the battlefield and in everyday life.

His stagnant verdant eyes were intently focused.

There was no disgust in them, but rather—

Luke: It's nice, isn't it? For you.

Gilbert: Hehe, is that so?

At his words, which almost sounded like admiration, the youth smiled gently as he wiped the blood with linen.

Luke: You can kill all the bad guys and the ones you hate, so you don't have any worries, right?

Gilbert: I do. I'm full of worries.

Luke: Liar.

Gilbert: You know, I hate lies.

Luke: Then, do you have worries?

Gilbert: Yes. Obsidian, you see, is also known as the country of deceit and corruption.

Gilbert: It's full of rotten people everywhere, and there aren't enough hands to clean it all up.

Gilbert: Even if I kill them all and clean it up, new filth will soon emerge. My worries never end.

Luke: Are there that many rotten people?

Gilbert: Isn't it the same around you, Luke?

Luke: Yeah. I've talked to all sorts of people since I started living here...

Luke: I don't think it's as dirty a country as you say.

Gilbert: Is everyone kind?

Luke: If you're not pulling strings behind the scenes, then everyone is kind.

Gilbert: Even I don't control "goodwill." Not many people know that I'm your guardian.

Gilbert: If you don't see corruption in your eyes, then my cleaning wasn't in vain.

Luke: ...It must be tough for you too.

Gilbert: It is tough, but someone has to do it.

Gilbert: I want to make it a country that promising young people like you can be proud of.

Luke: You're a promising young person too, aren't you?

The one-eyed youth just smiled quietly, neither nodding nor shaking his head.

Luke: ...Could it be that you...

Luke: Are more of an "old man" than I think?

The one-eyed youth, after a moment of bewilderment at the boy's serious and shocked expression, burst into laughter.

Gilbert: Ahaha... To call me that... you're probably the only one... haha!

Luke: ...You don't have to laugh that much!

Gilbert: Sorry, sorry, don't sulk. I was thinking that being called "old man" isn't so bad.

Luke: Don't you hate it?

Gilbert: Why? It's proof that I've lived a long life, shouldn't I be proud of it?

Luke: ...Hmm.

The youth, after laughing for a while and wiping his tears, peered at the boy who had turned away.

Gilbert: Hey, do you like Obsidian?

Luke: More than Rhodolite, anyway.

Gilbert: Oh?

Luke: What's with that smug look?

Gilbert: I'm just glad.

Luke: About what?

Gilbert: Because you—.......

-

???: Yo, mind if I join you guys?

—...Suddenly, a third voice rang out, and the seat next to Luke was filled.

Luke: Huh? Jin?

Jin: I happened to see you guys as I was passing by.

Gilbert: "Happened," huh...?

Even with the sudden intruder, Gilbert didn't change his expression and started to gobble down the honey cake that had been brought to the table.

Jin: What are you doing with my little brother?

Gilbert: Hehe, what do you think?

Jin: ...Were you having an eating contest?

Luke: That's right. His stomach is abnormal.

Gilbert: Luke, you're a light eater considering you're taller than me.

Luke: Compared to you, anyone would be a light eater.

Jin: If you're such a big eater, I'll let our chef know next time.

Gilbert: Eh, will you increase the portions? You're so kind, unlike Chevalier. Thank you.

Jin: No problem at all. In return, though, would you mind not bullying my little brother?

Gilbert: Don't be silly, I'm not bullying him. He's in the foreign affairs faction, so it's his job to entertain me, isn't it?

Gilbert: Besides, today's "sightseeing" has been cleared with Chevalier.

Jin: Oh? I can't believe you were so considerate.

Jin: But there are others in the foreign affairs faction, right?

Jin: In particular, our Clavis and Nokto are professionals at diplomacy...

Gilbert: Of course, I know. I also appreciate their skills.

Gilbert: But if I ask Clavis, things will get complicated, and I hate that foxy boy because he's a liar.

Gilbert: Chevalier is out of the question, so by process of elimination, I have no choice but to ask Luke, right?

Jin: Then next time, include me as an option. I know the town well.

Jin: As an older brother, I'm not comfortable burdening only the youngest.

Luke: Jin...

Gilbert: ...Hehe, good. I've been wanting to have a proper chat with you.

Gilbert: I'll consider you for the next sightseeing guide.

Luke: ...Hey.

Gilbert: But right now, I'm asking Luke.

Gilbert: A wise eldest brother like you understands what the most appropriate choice is in this situation, right...?

.

.

.

Part 4

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[quietwingsinthesky]

Can you delete your bad fics or private them? I kudosed one and sent it to a discord but then i went to your orofile and found you ship incest in other fic. I dont want my friends to know that I read proship. Youre a really good writer. so you should delete it anyway more people will like you

okay okay holy fucking shit this is. one of the most anon asks of all time. let's break this down.

(1) "Can you delete your bad fics" <- this is like all that i could see on my phone notif which. you can imagine how wild that was to glance over and see out of nowhere. and then it just does not get more normal. "or private them" ????????

(2) "I kudosed one and sent it to a discord" so okay the existence of my other work or that i wrote them in the first place does not actually disturb you so much that you want to stop consuming the work that you do like. you just don't want there to be evidence that you liked my tainted work. how is this my problem.

(3) "but then i went to your orofile and found you ship incest in other fic." look on the one hand. yeah? we do incest here. i'm not going to apologize for my work. but also like that honestly isn't the most extreme stuff i write, why is it always the incest people focus on. i wrote about a guy getting eggs laid in him by a hellhound once. no one ever comes to me accusing me of being morally despicable for the hellhound egg fic, and it makes me feel very unloved. sorry, distracted. where were we.

(4) "I dont want my friends to know that I read proship." Do you know what's extremely abnormal, both on your end and of your friends'? For you to feel the need to do like. a fucking background check on me. before you even read completely unrelated fic??????? Look, I'm being a bit of an asshole to you here, I understand that, but you must see how unreasonable your message is (assuming you did not send it with malicious intent in the first place, we'll get to that.) But. Genuinely. Anon, this is not normal for you to expect of yourself or for your friends to expect you to do. This is extremely concerning control behavior. You are in a cult. If you're afraid of your friends turning on you because of something you didn't even read, just came into contact with accidentally by association, they are not your friends and you are in a very bad situation. Get the fuck out of there.

(5) "Youre a really good writer. so you should delete it anyway more people will like you" However, having said that, lol. lmao. The last bit where you go oh but you *are* good, you just need to do what *I* want to earn more attention makes me extremely fucking suspicious that you came here with ill intent from the start. If I was not, well, me. If I was, say, someone with a lot more need for that attention or praise, or someone who was more insecure in my writing, this would be a good fucking trap to lay, wouldn't it. And don't think I missed how you positioned your earlier situation as something that would be my fault if I didn't take my fics down, as if you or your friends' actions are my responsibility. Take your suggestion and shove it up your ass. I hope no one you've preyed on with that ever listened to you.

[dutifullyscreechingdragon]

Michael the Distortion X Reader

A/n: Hiiii, I should note from the start, that the characters belong to the Magnus Archives Podcast, which was written by Johnny Sims. So, yeah, I do NOT own the characters. That being out of the way, enjoy:)

You were an Archival assistant. You were also Helen's close friend. So it was natural that she went to you for comfort after being trapped in the weird halls dimension and terrorised by a series of weird doors. It was also natural for you to suggest she makes a statement for the Archives. There was a chance, however slim, that they might do some digging into the matter.

And naturally, you were there with her as emotional support. It would be cruel to make her face Jon's scrutiny on her own.

So here you were, listening to your friend rambling about her encounter, nodding along and giving her encouraging smiles. You glanced at Jon. He wasn't pleased, but he wasn't wearing his usual look of skepticism either.

"...Maybe you can make some sense of it" Helens words finally drew you out of your thoughts.

"We'll try our best" you gave Helen another smile and gave her a pat on the back. Your little moment was interrupted by Jon:

"You said you don't remember the man's name..."

"I... I think he told me, but I just, I..." Helen begins but is interrupted, by Jon:

"-it wasn't Michael, was it?"

"Yes! Michael..." Helen's face darkens "Do you know him?"

You furrow your eyebrows and turn to Jon:

"You don't think that-"

"Maybe. I don't know!" Jon sighs and turns to Helen "We'll make some enquiries and get back to you"

"Right, well... I'll just leave you to it" Helen says before leaving.

You watch her and turn to Jon, to start discussing Helen's statement. You brace yourself for his questions. Maybe he'd ask you to provide some more context. However, instead Jon opts for calling Sasha and you resignedly plop into the armchair once again.

You look over the maps Helen drew. They really don't make sense. At all. Weird lines crossing one another... They are oddly fascinating.

When Jon and Sasha finish talking you brace yourself for questioning once again, but freeze when you see a tall, lanky man.

He has golden locks that twist and turn into intricate patterns. His hands are abnormally long and his fingers curl around the doorframe he leans on. The suit he wears makes you dizzy. It looks woven out of caleidoscopic fabric. And his smile. It's unnaturally wide. His features... Are weird... As if shifted a bit, making his face a bit mismatched, misaligned.

He is not supposed to be in the archives. You are sure of that.

He speaks:

"Do you know they're lying to you?"

The words make your hair stand on end. Or maybe it's just the static that seems to rise in the background with every word he speaks.

"I'm sorry- This uh... May I help you somehow? This place is off limits" You hurriedly inform the impromptu visitor.

"I disagree" the man says leisurely.

"Who let you in here?" Jon cuts to the chase with his questions. This seems to amuse your stranger.

"Let?" He laughs. It's breathy and out of sync. It makes you shiver. "I'm afraid this isn't how it works..."

"You're him" Jon states, rather than asking.

"Yes"

"Michael"

The creature holds a pause before speaking:

"That is a real name"

"Wait. Pause. Break" you interrupt. This is... Well, you'd say weird, but anything concerning the archives is weird... It's more than your daily intake of "weird".

"You're... Michael" you restate.

"Ah... The little archival assistant's comprehension skills deserve the highest praise" Michael muses.

"No. I mean... You're the guy that Sasha met... Michael 'How would a melody describe itself if asked' the distortion ?"

"Mhm... Yes... The Deceitfully distorted being of non-reality" Michael grinned, visibly please you quoted him.

"Sure... That checks out... Weird, but poetic descriptions" you mutter "Should I uh... Take your statement?"

"You'd like one.... Wouldn't you?" Michael asks you, twirling his hair "I wonder... Is it the eye's mark... Or sheer human curiosity? A mix of both? Or perhaps... Something else entirely?"

"Are you here to make a statement? You haven't answered the question." You respond.

"I suppose I haven't..." Is all the response you get.

"Are you here to kill us?" Jon asks. Way to be optimistic, you think.

"No" he states decidedly.

That's a relief, you don't think fighting him would be pleasant.

"Oh... Why are you here then?" Jon seems to take the lead in asking questions.

"I am simply collecting what is mine, Archivist. the one who entered my domain"

"Helen?" You muttered, your heart rate picking up.

"Mrs. Rich-ard-son? You own those hallways?" Jon asked slowly.

The distortion grins

"What a fffascinating question" Michael drags out "Does your hand in any way own your stomach?"

"Ah-" is all you can manage to utter. Your stunned silence doesn't seem to throw Michael off as he continues:

"In any case, it doesn't matter, the wanderer had a brief respite, but it's over now" he shrugs.

You can't help but let out a triumphant laugh:

"Haha! You're too late! Helen's already left! You ain't getting her! Tough luck, mate" you shrug.

"Yes... Ah... Did you notice which door she left through?" Michael's smile grows wider and he can't help but let out a small chuckle.

"Well, yes it's... Wait... You trail off" you don't remember that door... Should there be a door?

"There has never been a door there, your mind plays tricks on you…" Michael responds to your silent question.

"Let her go! This instance! Open the bloody door and Let. Helen. Out!" You clench your fists, making a few steps forward.

"No?" He laughed. That made your blood boil. You couldn't contain yourself. You leaped over the desk, grabbing a dagger in the process and putting it to the creature's throat... Or at least where you thought it would be.

"Let Helen out!" You seethe.

This didn't have the effect you counted on. Michael stayed unphased.

"No can do" he slightly moved your dagger to the side and unperceptedly shifted behind you.

You turned still gripping your dagger.

"How did you- you were just standing here and-"

His Cheshire cat smile just widens at your confusion.

"I'd advise not to wave sharp objects" he drawls in a leisurely manner "you can never know when you can accidentally... Get cut" he lightly trails one sharp talon over your forearm. Tiny beads of blood litter your skin, in spiraling shapes. It stings. You wince. Michael.... Smirks. It almost makes you want to punch him in the face. But you know better. You do not want to be sliced into ribbons. At least, not before you have rescued Helen.

You take a few steps back, trying to put a bit of space between you and Michael. You barely contain the irritated groan, when he shifts a bit closer.

You try to move away, without turning your back to him and simultaneously avoiding tripping over the boxes scattered on the floor. Somehow, you still find him behind you, his long fingers resting on your shoulders and tapping a rhythm you can't quite guess. It's too irregular to be predictable, yet too regular to be completely random.

You turn and come face to face with the madness incarnate. Michael cocks his head to the side and you wonder whether he will continue twisting further and further, until any normal human neck would snap.

Jon's voice breaks you out of your staring contest. Michael directs his attention to the Archivist, leaving you standing there.

It gives you ample opportunity to catch your breath and notice, that you're mere meters away from the door Helen walked through. A quick glance reassured you that Michael and Jon are deep in conversation.

You inch slowly to the door, trying not to tip off the embodiment of losing your mind. You're almost there. You wonder if the door is unlocked and if you open it, will you be able to get to Helen instantly.

Your hand touches the door knob. It's warm almost welcoming.

You turn your head slightly, to check that Michael is still distracted.

He isn't. In fact, he's staring right at you, with his everpresent uncanny smirk

"Oooh, do go on... Don't you want to see what's behind the door?" His staticky voice encourages you, "Don't you want to rescue your friend? It is... Slim chance... But I am keen to see you try..."

You wonder briefly, whether this is some reverse psychology thing. Whether he actually doesn't want you to open the door. You look at Jon, noting his foreboding expression and slight shake of the head.

You start weighing your options, but then you remember her. Helen. Your friend. You can't leave her.

You put on your bravest face and push the door open. Caleidoscope colours flood your senses. And this laughter. This uncanny, hypnotising laughter, feels your ears, clouding your senses. You feel it reverberate in your bones and course through your veins.

The avatar of the Spiral and the Archivist watch you disappear behind the door. One wears an all too wide grin, the other the expression of utter shock and horror. It's easy to guess which is which.

"What a fascinating Archival Assistant you have" Michael drags out disrupting the silence, "Or perhaps I should say... 'had'?" He muses much to Jon's irritation.

"What did you do to them? Bring me backy assistant!"

Ignoring Jon's demands, Michael approaches the door. It swings open and the distortion's fingers curl around it's frame.

"If it wasn't for the Ceaseless Watcher's touch, they'd make a fine spiral avatar..." Michael's laughter echoes through the room "They still might..." He grins disappearing through the door

A/n: Whooo, this is done. I hope you liked it and have a great day!!

[anyasathenaeum]

Personally I think it would be funny if the plan to lock Reader and Vash in a room together failed miserably and they just ended up talking about the weather the whole time like the emotionally constipated dorks they are. And they actually end up confessing at a completely different, unrelated point. Like, one of them gets hammered and confesses when they mistake the other for a stranger and starts rambling about how AMAZING their "unrequited" lover is.

You don't have to write this if you don't want to, just wanted to share at least.

Locked In With You

A/N: I'm gonna write this, I'm taking it like a personal challenge haha partially because I LOVE your idea, Anon - it somehow feels right. For reference, this is a fic that continues off a point from these jealousy headcanons. I took a slightly different approach to this, but it should still address this request!

Edit: So, there is an optional continuation/part 2 to this fic. Read it here!

Pairing: Vash x reader

"So... what do we do now?"

Vash's voice was abnormally high, clearly indicating his nervousness. You were glad the room was pretty dark - that way, Vash wouldn't be able to see your face changing shades. Or, at least, you hoped he couldn't see your face.

For some reason, Meryl and Wolfwood had decided to take it upon themselves to lock you and Vash in a closet together. At least, that's what you suspected.

"I swear, those two are in for it," You muttered under your breath, "They locked us in here on purpose. But for what reason?"

"I don't know!" Vash exclaimed, letting out another nervous laugh, "M-Maybe it was a genuine accident?"

"I doubt that, Vash," You replied sullenly, crossing your arms over your chest, "I don't think anything those two collaborate on is an 'accident'."

"Aww, come on, we should give 'em the benefit of the doubt, don't you think?" Vash tried again, smiling a bit as you shook your head stubbornly in return.

"Absolutely not."

At that, Vash just chuckled before letting a silence fall between the two of you. It felt... comfortable, but simultaneously a bit uneasy, like there was something hovering between you and Vash - something that was begging to be said, or acknowledged, but wasn't being so and just lingered there.

You normally would have given anything to be caught in a situation like this with Vash, but now that you found yourself here, against your will, you felt unsure and scared.

You had fallen in love with the Humanoid Typhoon while travelling with him, and you always made sure your hands "accidentally" touched, or you found reasons to be stuck with him, or be near him, and found yourself looking at him longingly whenever you were sure he wasn't looking. You were pretty certain Meryl and Wolfwood found you pathetic, as they were most definitely aware of how in love you were with Vash. But even so, they didn't say anything about it, for which you were grateful.

Until now, when Meryl and Wolfwood suddenly decided the only way you and Vash could potentially get together was by physically enclosing you in a space until a confession was drawn out. Enough had been enough for them.

"Vash?" You found yourself whispering his name in a question softly, before you yourself knew where you were going with this.

"Yeah, (Y/N)?" Vash responded, his own voice quiet - if you didn't know any better, he almost sounded... nervous. As if he was anticipating something.

"I-," You took a deep breath, "I just wanted to tell you that-"

The door flung open, and you blinked as the sudden light blinded you. Once your eyes adjusted, you just saw a smirking Wolfwood and a slightly embarrassed Meryl.

"Sorry, guys! We finally got the key to get you two out!" Meryl exclaimed as you slipped out of the closet you'd been locked in, brushing past her and mumbling a "thanks" in passing.

One look with Wolfwood, and you could see that he understood - nothing had happened. No confession. You couldn't help but feel a bit upset about it - you were about to let your feelings go when they'd interrupted, and now... it felt like your chance was lost forever.

Your sorrow lasted the rest of the day, to the point where when you and the group went down to the tavern, you found yourself ordering drink after drink after drink, slamming them back one after the other in an attempt to numb the pain of all your emotions. You felt your head spinning and your blood buzzing in your veins, but you weren't about to stop any time soon.

"Woah, woah, woah! Take it easy, there, sweetheart. You trying to drown your sorrows?"

You glanced over at Wolfwood as he sat next to you at the bar, picking up your drink and taking a sniff before smirking at you, "Damn, sweetheart, strong stuff you got here."

He proceeded to drink your drink, causing you to exclaim, "Hey, I was planning to drink that, you bastard!"

"Whatcha doing, drinking enough of this crap to blind a man?" Wolfwood just asked coolly, his eyes trained on you as you sighed heavily.

"Trying to forget the fact that I'm in love with a beautiful, perfect, amazing, wonderful man who will never love me back," You slurred, your voice louder than you recognized it to be.

Before Wolfwood could even interject, you just continued to rant, "Seriously, Wolfwood, Vash is the most amazing person I've ever met and I love him more than anybody else in my life, but there's no chance somebody as amazing as him would even look at somebody like me twice. I'm nobody special, just ordinary, boring, unimpressive (Y/N)."

To Wolfwood's alarm, there were now tears going down your face as you cried silently, the alcohol amplifying your emotions beyond what you were used to. You were hiccupping quietly, brushing away your tears clumsily as you sat there at the bar, suddenly looking much smaller and more vulnerable than Wolfwood had ever seen you. To say he was unsettled was an understatement.

What you didn't notice was Wolfwood's eyes suddenly shifting to something behind you, a smirk appearing on his lips as he saw Vash just standing there, absolutely stunned. There was no question about it - Vash had heard your declaration of love for him.

You suddenly tried to stand, but of course, with your blood alcohol level now probably through the roof, the whole world jerked violently sideways and you stumbled hard. However, a pair of strong yet gentle arms wrapped around you and caught you before you hit the ground. You let out a groan, feeling sick to your stomach - the alcohol was kicking your butt, now.

"Why don't you let Blondie get you back to your room, huh, sweetheart?" Wolfwood stated casually, waving you off and walking over to where Meryl was, leaving you in Vash's arms.

"Come on, (Y/N)," Vash's gentle voice was suddenly in your ear, causing a shiver to go down your spine as you registered he was there, "Let's get you to bed, yeah?"

"Oh, hi Vash!" You chirped, smiling at him as if you hadn't just been sobbing your eyes out minutes prior, "When did you get here?"

"Just a few seconds ago, just in time to catch you as you tripped," Vash answered, smiling down at you with a grin that could rival the sun. It made your chest feel warm but it hurt you a bit as your feelings resurfaced in your cloudy mind.

"O-Oh. Thanks, Vash," You mumbled, feeling queasy as you tried to walk, "I-I should... go to bed. You don't need to babysit me, I'll be fine."

However, right as you tried to brush Vash off, you tripped over yourself once again, almost hitting the floor once more. Thankfully, Vash was still nearby and managed to catch you once again.

"I won't babysit you, but please let me at least make sure you get back safe, (Y/N)," Vash asked gently, looking down at you with an expression filled with an emotion you didn't recognize.

Regardless, it softened your resolve, leading to you mumbling out a small "okay" and letting Vash guide you back to your room. Before you knew it, you were back in your room and Vash let you get ready for bed as he went to turn down your bed covers and make it easier for you to get to bed. Once you had brushed your teeth and changed into your pyjamas (with a lot of difficulty), Vash made you drink a glass of water and brought you over to the bed, tucking the blankets in around you.

Before Vash could leave, you grabbed his wrist, clutching onto him somewhat desperately, a small whisper leaving you as you felt sleep washing over you, "Please don't go."

You didn't even have time to hear Vash's response before sleep dragged you under, your hand dropping from Vash's as you finally fell asleep. Vash's heart was pounding violently in his chest as he gazed at your sleeping figure - even drunk, you still wanted him there.

Vash couldn't help but smile a goofy little smile to himself - he had overheard your passionate and somewhat sad declaration of love for him, undoubtedly unaware that he was directly behind you. His heart had broken when he heard you voice how you felt Vash was unreachable to you, that his love was unreachable to you and that you felt you were nothing special, simply ordinary, and not enough for him.

Your little whisper asking him to stay as you fell asleep just solidified Vash's determination to confess to you in the morning, once you were sober and would be able to remember every word he told you. He already knew you loved him, he now had that confirmation, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to act on it.

"I'm so in love with you, (Y/N)," Vash found himself whispering into the night, leaning down to gently stroke your cheek as you slept on, "I love you more than anything. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise. And finally, I'll tell you the truth. I love you, (Y/N). Sleep well, my love."

Vash could not wait for the morning to come.