#that you know all of his tricks and tells just as well as he knows yours

[redhoneysugarorange]

At first when Danny learned his new foster family were vigilantes, he wanted to scream and cry at fate, along with some specific choice words for Clockwork.

He was supposed to leave this vigilante shit behind! Not become a vigilante furry's fourth (fifth? Sixth? Did Damian count?) foster fail! But no, here he was pretending to sleep as the voices of his siblings screamed at each other down the hall. Danny knows he's a bit of a hypocrite, but how have these people's identities not been found out by now?

Sure, they were severely death-touched, but Danny figured that was just because they were from Gotham and were rich enough to constantly deal with rogues and stuff. Danny could write that off. He could not, however, ignore the constant footsteps on the roof, the migraine inducing smell of smog they bring in with them every night, or, you know, the fucking cave he'd accidentally phased into under the Manor! A giant ass house and none of them knew how to be quiet when coming back in for the night.

Isn't retirement supposed to come with sleep and down time! This entire situation was fucking rigged! Danny was jipped out of what he thought would be a weird but relaxing stay in an actually okay foster home for once. Nope, nope, nope. He's just as tired as before. Bruce and Alfred were concerned, but it's not like Danny could tell them anything about his past, no he would rather avoid that conversation. Didn't mean he wasn't pissed off every time they did something that made it so obvious why they were. Like come on Tim, we know you haven't reached your power nap quota today, but you can't just leave your vigilante grade boe staff just chilling on the table.

-Okay, so he couldn't blame them for not knowing about his enhanced senses. Well, Duke seemed to have an idea, but he seems to think it's only a sensitivity and gave Danny some sunglasses which actually did help with his now constant migraines.

(Duke currently held the lead as his favorite brother, even if the teen wasn't technically adopted by the family. Actually, how many of these assholes are actually adopted?! Danny swore the numbers changed on the daily. He's still meeting new people and he's been here for two months!)-

Another screech down the hall has Danny grinding his teeth and shoving a pillow over his head. How could anybody be that energetic at 3 in the morning!? Eventually Danny gave up on sleeping, glaring angrily at the ceiling and breathing in and out like Jazz had taught him. Okay. He just needed to calm down. He was fineee, it was fineee, everything was-

-A crash down the hall, muffled curses and footsteps ran. The house was quiet again. But now Danny was awake. His eye twitched. He was so fucking done with this. Maybe he'd run away or something... No. No these were actually good people even if Danny wanted to throttle all of them. Stage a kidnapping? Maybe he could get Vlad to help? Nah, he'd just have to deal with the overprotective family as bats and as civilians.

But... He could still mess with them. Do some pranks, spook them a little. He is a ghost after all, it's what they do. Sure Danny had failed at a haunted house freshman year, but that was like two years ago. No, Danny was wayyyt better at being a ghost now. And he had a few new tricks up his sleeve.

Danny grinned, canines sharpening in his mouth as he sat up. He jumped out of bed soundlessly, grabbing a notebook and starting to scribble in ghost speak. He isn't going to get any sleep anymore tonight anyway, might as well use his well earned pettiness and anger to his advantage while it's fresh! He had some perfect ideas already. He would make his foster family regret waking him up In the middle of the night!

Oh yes, this was going to be spectacular.

“Did this place pick up a ghost when I was dead or something?”

Tim whipped his head towards Jason, who looked mildly perturbed.

“You too?!” Tim demanded.

“What?”

“The ghost! I kept thinking it was a hallucination, you know? But even when I laid off of the caffeine, there’d be a fucking shadow at the edge of my vision! At night! You saw it too, right?” Tim rambled, increasingly agitated. “It even moves the fucking coffee mugs! I know where I left my favorite mug, and it sure as hell wasn’t in the sink!”

Jason blinked at him, face morphing into concern.

“Replacement, when was the last time you got some sleep?”

Tim inhaled. “Jason, I swear to god I will replace all of the shampoo in your twenty six safe houses with glitter glue if you don’t tell me whether you saw it or not.”

Jason nodded immediately. In his defense, Tim grew up to be a scary motherfucker. Diabolical little shit would have been a fucking terrifying villain.

“I knew it.”

——

Danny hummed. Tim was going to freak when he found his cowl three inches to the left.

He merrily avoided all of the set up cameras by simply going invisible and intangible, save for his arms that he uses to sweep the cowl to the side.

He could hear the static on the cameras. Danny grinned. Operation Gaslight, Ghostkeep, Girlboss is on.

——

“Tim-” Dick started, only to be cut short by Tim whirling around and jabbing a painful finger into his chest.

“You owe me this, for that Arkham comment when B went missing.”

Dick raised his hands in surrender, guilt flaring.

“Drake, what kind of pointless scheme are you getting us in, now?”

“Not now, demon brat.” Jason elbows the kid. “Just go along with it.”

“Look.”

“Well. I guess we were right, yeah, Tim?” Duke muttered, eyeing the moved cowl. “My ghost-sight isn’t seeing anything. Not even wind movement.”

“What’s going on, boys?”

“B, there’s a ghost in the manor.”

“He’s freaking out because it moved his coffee mug like three times.” Steph chimed in.

——

“Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you seen anything weird, lately?”

Danny tilted his head. “No…?”

“Not even in the house?” Jason asked.

“Shadows? Anything?” Dick asked, eye bags prominent on the normally exuberant man. Danny snickered inwardly. They’ve been up for three days trying to “catch” the ghost.

“Uh. I mean the floorboards creak sometimes? But in terms of shadows… I think I saw them outside? Kind of looked like Batman, actually. But my eyesight gets bad at night. Why?”

Danny could see in the dark just fine.

“Nothing! Let me know if you see anything, okay?”

“Uh. Sure? Maybe you guys should… get some sleep?”

“Uh-huh.”

The bats file out of his room.

——

Danny locked glowing green eyes with Tim and Dick. He did some quick thinking and contorted his ectoplasm into something more grotesque.

“Kkkhggggghkkkkeeee!!!” He screeched.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!” The two of them screamed, both bolting and throwing things at him. It was impressive how fast they backpedaled.

“That was close,” Danny muttered. He quickly scribbled on Damian’s whiteboard with conspiracy theories and dipped before the rest of the bats came thundering.

He fell into a light sleep just as Stephanie checked up on him, work done.

[funnyjb]

Moon and back

——————-

Early morning light shined into your shared bedroom with Joe. You were comfortable and at ease. Joe was holding you close. His morning bed head still in tact and only thing on was his sweatpants.

The sound of coo’s from the baby monitor woke you both up. Your daughter Amelia was just waking up. Amelia Parker Burrow was born just in late May. The ray of sunshine that brightened up both of your lives.

You both turned

“I’ll get her.”- joe

“You sure?”- you

“Yeah, get some more rest”- joe

You nodded

It was only 6:00am

Joe walked into Amelia’s room. The door cracked open. The room was still dark but Joe could make up the crib and the changing table.

“Hi, baby.”- joe

Joe picked her up and rested her in his arms.

“Shh, it’s ok.”- joe

All of a sudden Amelia started crying. Tears filled her little eyes. The sound waking you up again.

You could always tell what the cry’s meant. A hungry cry, a tired cry, or angry cry. This sounded like a hungry cry.

Joe could tell it was hungry cry to from your tricks and tips you taught him these past few months.

He brought Amelia to you. He didn’t want to, he wanted you to sleep in.

“Hey, sorry but i think she’s hungry.”- joe

“Yeah, it’s ok.”- you held out your hands

He handed your daughter to you.

You pulled down your top and started to feed.

Joe came into bed again and sat right next to you. You rested your head on his shoulder.

——————————

Later in the day you decided to surprise Joe at practice with Amelia. You changed into your black romper and white button up as a coverup. You put Amelia in a cute Burrow onesie then you two were off.

The sub was shining bright and Joe looked great. He had is bengals cap on and was doing some drills.

He spotted you two after practice.

“Babe? What are you doing here?”- joe smiled

“We decided to surprise you! Also needed to get out of the house.”- you laugh

You hand Amelia to Joe.

“Hi, baby.”- joe

Joe held her up to his chest. Some people were watching but really just smiling and making comments about the cute moment. You didn’t mind.

You guys decided to take a family picture that was definitely getting framed.

Joe hit the showers then was going to let you both at home since you had two separate cars

At home Joe sat next to you on the couch while Amelia was down for a nap.

“I really enjoyed having you guys there today. Thank you for coming. I know it’s a lot with the baby.”- joe

“Always. I’ll do anything to support you. Amelia and I are so proud of you.”- you kiss his forehead

You guys end up napping and cuddling

————————-

“Shhhh, calm down baby, it’s ok.”- you rocked Amelia who was crying

Amelia hasn’t stopped crying.

Joe was out at dinner with friends. He insisted on staying to help but you figured he needed a night off.

Your tears started to flow down your cheeks. The exhaustion from the week started to kick in. The waking up early, running around every second, taking care of your baby. It was hard.

As york tears flowed you decided to sing a lullaby to help calm Amelia.

“Goodnight, sweetheart

Well, it's time to go

Goodnight, sweetheart

Well, it's time to go”

Amelia’s cry became faint. The sounds of loud baby cry’s stopped. The house was quiet. The room was quiet and still.

You slowly got up and put her in the crib.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”- you

You quietly left the room.

You decided to head downstairs and tackle the kitchen as quietly as you could. You were tired but didn’t want to do it in the morning

As you were cleaning your mind kept going to that moment in Amelia’s room. How you couldn’t keep it together. Both of you were crying. Even though you pushed Joe to go tonight, you’ve been feeling lonely and alone in your own feelings. Tears started to streaming again.

Just then the door opened.

Joe was home.

“Babe?”- joe

“In here!”- you quickly wipe your tears

You can here is footsteps get closer.

“Hey!”- joe

You try not to look his way so he doesn’t see your eyes.

“Hi! How was dinner?”- you say putting a plate away in the dishwasher

Joe looks at you weird knowing something is off.

“It was..good. Nice to catch up. You ok?”- joe says coming closer

“Yeah,yeah, I’m good”- you

“Y/n, look at me, please.”- joe says softly

You hesitate for a minute

Then you turn

Your eyes are still red but not as bright

“Baby, what’s wrong?”- joe

Just as those words come out of his mouth your tears and sobs start to pour out.

He wraps his arms around you

“Shh, it’s ok. I’m right here.”- joe

He lefts you cry for a few moments.

“Care to tell me what’s bothering you, sweetheart?”- joe

“I..I just don’t know if I can do it.”- you

“Do what?”- joe

“Be a mom. I’m so tired and she kept crying non stop for a whole hour I didn’t know what to do. She’s been getting up early in the morning to be fed and late a night. I’m exhausted. People keep asking me how I’m doing and I don’t know what to say. It’s all too much. And I miss you.”- you

“Baby, I’m so so sorry. You shouldn’t have to feel this way. But its a part of it. And I’m right here.”- joe

“I know, but the season is coming up and I feel like I never really see you. And I’m sorry I probably am such a dick for bringing this on you.”- you

“Y/n, no, you aren’t. It’s ok and I’m glad you’re speaking to me about this. I’m proud of you always. I know it’s hard with the season coming up and I’m really sorry I’ve been away. I talked to coach today and tried to see if I could do some stuff from home like meetings and stuff so I can help you. I’m really sorry you’ve been dealing with this y/n. But you’re an amazing mom. Your wonderful at it. Our daughter is so lucky she gets you as her mama and I’m so lucky I get to call you my wife. I’m always here. Always.”- joe

You hug him again

“Thank you, Joe. I love you so much. More than you know.”- You

“Always. I love you to the moon and back.”- Joe

——-

The end!

I know you guys like mama so I decided to right something like it!

[frostbitten-writer]

It’s not a Reunion if you never left

Pairing: Ekko x gn!reader ( lovers, to enemies to lovers)

Tags + Warnings: No specific description of R; R has a gun; R and Ekko were dating in childhood (teenagers); ANGST/COMFORT -> SUGGESTIVE AT THE END

A/n: So what I realised is that you guys don’t like angst as much as I do, so I’ll give you the ‘fluff’ you deserve *wink wink* Plus what’s important, for the Plot, Ekko and R are a bit older (22-23 years old). Int the Childhood memories -> (14-15 years old)

Ekko knew too much about death and sacrifices, knew too much of all of the things Zaunites had to go through, he knew it because he, as well, lived it all through.

But when he saw you? You, the person he adored so much as a teenager. You, his childhood lover, the person he thought would be with him forever, you, that somehow disappeared or died… he didn’t know if his eyes were playing tricks. 

It was like seeing a ghost, seeing a person so familiar and yet seeing a complete stranger. You were still the same, but not quite how he remembered. Your face got a lot slimmer, your hair changed, and the clothes that were obviously made by you were hanging loosely on your form.

But your eyes.. the windows to life itself seemed so dim, the colour seemed to be so dark, your expression so harsh and rough, just like you now in general.

Eight years really did something to you, and even if he didn’t know what happened, he still felt the same tug to you, the feeling only you could radiate. The aura of acceptance and understanding was so foreign in Zaun, so whenever Ekko had the chance, he would bask in your presence, knowing that whatever that would happen, you could make it right. And then.. it all ended when you disappeared, or left.. He was so sure that you died, and his childish grief was unbearable. Late nights were spent crying in his bed, vows were whispered, quiet sobs of reassurance that everything will be good, that he will fight for you.

So when he saw you, safe and sound, he felt a bit fooled. What do you mean that eight years were spent grieving for a person that just.. simply left? His fingers twitched softly, the muscle memory absentmindedly ready to go for a tight hug. But he couldn’t, not when he didn’t even know why you were here.

“Look who came back from the dead.” He said mockingly, a sneer on his face as he watched your form in the distance.

“Look who’s talking with the dead,” You replied, nails tapping the gun that was fastened to your belt, a cool undertone to your voice. 

“You changed, Ekko..” You mused as you looked him up and down, eyes lingering and quickly moving from place to place. “What’s with the dirt on your face?” The mocking confusion was evident, and that made his jaw clench.

“Is that the only thing you have to say?! After all those years? Dirt on my face? Dirt is already a part of me in this rat hole! You’d know that if you hadn’t been gone, Toots!”

You watched his eyes widen in embarrassment, the nickname he’d give you while you were still children slipping effortlessly from his tongue.

“Ah.. the good old nickname, huh? Brings back old good memories.” You muttered and Ekko watched you take some steps closer to him, and he felt his heart beat harder with every step you took.

“The times we were together, Ekko..” You whispered as you stood right in front of him, your hand on your hip next to the gun.

“We were children, that would’ve changed…” He muttered in response. Lies, he didn’t believe that, his inner child was screaming otherwise, saying that if he tried a bit harder you’d stay.

“Yes, but those were the good times.. when we were children. Kind and innocent, not carrying the heavy blood on our hands.” Ekko watched you talk, words coming gracefully out of your mouth, the same way you’d tell him the solution.. to everything. To life itself.

“The times when we’d be inseparable, hip to hip. The time when we felt something-…” You continued to tell the stuff that came to mind, eyes filled with confusion as you stared down at the ground, your hand moving upwards to his chest, the barrel suddenly touching his heart. “- right here..”

The tip of the gun was cold against his chest, the cool feeling seeping through his shirt.

“We were stupid, nothing is eternal. We grew.” He looked at you as his jaw ticked, the gun to his heart not intimidating him at all.

“-And yet you still act like a child.” He suddenly added. “Leaving without a word and now pointing a gun that you don’t even know how to handle.”

You scoffed, the emotional side suddenly changed to irritation.

“Excuse you, I know how to handle a gun just right!” You exclaimed, eyes furrowing and eyes widening.

“Oh yeah? A person with a gun doesn’t hesitate to just shoot.”

“I could shoot just right, nerd.” You sneered, the pistol skimming up to his mandible.

“Don’t call me that,” He hissed, breath hitching at the feeling of the cold metal against his jaw. He’d be lying if the sensation wasn’t making him nervous, but not the usual nervous but another. The one that kinda makes you weak in the knees.

“Why not? You are a nerd, always have been.” You shrugged, the distance between your bodies almost invisible.

“Why don’t you shoot, huh? Show how great you are. I’m not scared of your lil’ gun” He mocked and took a small step forward, as if challenging you by standing even closer to the bullet.

“You should be.” 

He should be afraid, afraid to lose his life, but in the end he was more afraid to lose his mind with you. Why was he playing this game? Maybe or maybe not because he liked it…

“If I didn’t know better I’d say that you like pointing it at me..” He said with a strained voice, the last bit of his clear mind going to waste.

“Hm, maybe. But I’d say that I like pulling the trigger more..” You breathed out, not backing down.

You both knew what kind of a game you were playing, and maybe that was the point. The tension was palpable, electric.. nothing could quite describe it. The air was cold where you were standing, but none of you two could feel it due to your own reasons.

  “I could just-“  Your finger slowly moved to cock the gun, and yet he quickly snatched it and slammed his lips against yours, doing you both the favour of doing the first step. The kiss was filled with emotions, anger, hatred and yet relief that it was you.

It was a lot more different than the kisses you’d share in the past, it was quick, sloppy, but who cared? You surely didn’t, since you wrapped your arms around his neck, and pulled him flush against you. The pistol fell down with a clack but none of you paid attention, you had other stuff to do.

Ekko was still angry and frustrated, knowing that his grief was for nothing, but on the other hand it all was for nothing, you were there, in his arms, grip and lips to lips-. 

You never fully left when you never left his mind.

Support banner: @/cafekitsune

[fangirlofallthefanthings]

They live on Mount Olympus! Which is a real place, but also not.

There’s the actual physical mountain:

And the home of the gods in the clouds (that is also called Mount Olympus)

[Insert the first thing that pops into your head when imagining a super upper class Ancient Greek neighborhood in a big city. That’s basically what it is]

Please do keep us updated on your Greek Myth discovery journey! And never be afraid to ask questions! We’re happy to help! :D

And yes, Zeus “vored his wife” as you say. There was a prophecy that Zeus’s first wife, a daughter of Oceanos (the og Titan god of the sea) named Metis, would give birth to a daughter wiser than her mother (“Metis” literally means “wisdom” btw) and a son more powerful that his father.

So fresh off the trauma of the Titanomachy (the war between the gods and the tians), and him chopping up his own father Kronos into a thousand little pieces and tossing the chunks into the deepest pit of Tartarus… Zeus wasn’t too keen on having kids you might say.

Unfortunately he received this crucial info after he and Metis got down and dirty. So Zeus came up with a full proof plan. He would have Metis turn into water and drink her up (or trick her into turning into a fly so he could swallow her) so she would be safely in his stomach! No risk of messing about, no kids.

Problem solved, right? Well…

He succeeded in tricking Metis into transforming, and consumed her. But what he didn’t realize was that she was already pregnant…

A while later, Zeus gets a headache. Like- a really bad headache. Imagine the worst migraine you’ve ever had in your life, multiply that by 100, and have it last for a few days. That kind of headache.

It’s so bad that Zeus begs for someone to crack open his skull just to release the pressure. So Prometheus (the Titan god of foresight; dw he was a chill Titan) or Hephaestus (hey! you know this one! :D) depending on who’s telling it, obliges and TAKES AN AXE TO ZEUS’S FOREHEAD!

And out pops a grown woman wearing a full set of armor, complete with a helmet and spear, letting out a war cry so loud and terrifying it makes all of Olympus tremble.

Say hello to Athena! The goddess of wisdom, strategy, and hand crafts! She’s one of my favorites :D

this website’s easy watch. *dangles a bunch of greek gods like keys*

[msmk11]

okay so hear me out for an angst idea. remus x muggle reader. they’re dating and so in love and she doesn’t know he’s a wizard or werewolf yet. all of the sudden he shuts her out (cause he’s scared to tell them) and she’s stressing thinking he’s done w her and go from there where you please 😘

(also feel free to make gender neutral i just used she pronouns bc that’s what i use lol)

Magic Tricks

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

WC: 2k

CW: Angst; hurt/comfort; Remus doesn’t know how to communicate

A/n: thank you for the request lovely! I definitely tried to make it angsty, but I didn’t wanna prolong it cuz I know Remus would be trying to remedy the problem ASAP!! I hope you enjoy

The first day or so of silence you give him an out, figuring something is going on. But when he still doesn’t reach out after four days, a pit of dread begins to fill your stomach. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened to you. Not with Remus, obviously, but with other boyfriends. Disinterest was always the first step, and then silence, and then the inevitable “it’s not you, it’s me.” You just don’t understand what you could’ve done wrong. Things with Remus, at least you thought, were going well. Great, even. You were certain he was going to be the one you would marry. But now? Now you’re not so sure.

Instead of spending Friday night depressed and alone, you tag along after work to the company’s happy hour. You hope it’ll get your mind off your suddenly distant boyfriend and even help you loosen up.

You’re sitting at a table chatting with some girls from your department about one of their annoying neighbors when the restaurant door opens again and a chilly breeze blows through. You tighten your jacket as you look up at the brisk intrusion and falter There, getting seated by the hostess, is Remus. With another girl. 10,000 emotions are swirling through you, but the worst by far is shock.

Your shoulder is shaken, “hey, you okay?”

Your throat constricts in your chest and you’re not sure you can respond to your concerned coworker, “hmm?”

“You don’t look so good” another says.

“I- I’m sorry I just, I just saw my boyfriend, over there, and he’s with another girl.”

A plethora of protests and groans of disgust emit from your friends but you tune them all out. You’re hurt and confused, and before you know it, your legs have carried you over to where Remus and this redhead girl are sitting.

“Remus?”

You hate how hoarse your voice comes out, and your stomach twists in embarrassment.

The brunette’s head snaps up, eyes meeting yours and widening, “dove?”

Your eyes flit between the happy pair and you scoff, “funny seeing you here, sweetheart. I see now why I haven’t heard from you in days.”

The redhead chokes on her drink, cheeks turning a dark shade of crimson, “oh no! That’s not! We’re not!”

You glare at her and look back at Remus, arms crossed, “what the fuck, Remus? If you weren’t interested in me anymore you could’ve just said it. Instead, you’re going behind my back with other girls. That’s low.”

You turn around and begin to storm off, angry tears building in your eyes.

A warm, familiar hand grabs your wrist, stopping you, “dove, wait, no! It’s not what it looks like. I swear! Please give me a chance to explain. This is Lily! You remember her, right? I’ve talked about her before. She’s my friend from school.”

You stare at the love of your life disbelievingly, “seems like she’s more than just your friend.”

Remus shakes his head desperately, “no that’s not it. Please, let me talk. Just-“ his eyes flit around the room anxiously, aware of the many people watching the scene unfold, “can we go somewhere private to talk.”

“Now you wanna talk?” And damn it, a few tears start rolling down your cheeks, “Remus I haven’t heard from you in a week, and then I catch you with another girl. You have to know how it seems. Even if nothing happened, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve ignored me, and made me feel worthless. I- I can’t be with someone who ghosts whenever they feel like it!”

“Baby, my love, please,” he pleads, his hands trembling.

“Remus, I’m done. I can’t,” you pull out of his grasp and stalk back over to your table, grabbing your purse and leaving in a hurry of embarrassed tears.

You’ve been bawling your eyes out on the couch for the last few hours, wallowing in your own self-pity. You can’t believe it. You and Remus are really over. The love of your life is gone. You’re not sure you can ever recover. Your phone has been buzzing like crazy- likely Remus- but you choose to ignore it. You can’t talk to him right now, not after everything that happened tonight.

A knock on the door interrupts your thoughts and you stand, wrapping a blanket around you and wiping the remnants of tears from your stained cheeks. When you open it you’re surprised, but not, to see Remus.

“What are you doing here?”

“Dove. I came here to see you…. to explain….everything. I didn’t get the chance at the bar, and you wouldn’t answer my texts or calls. So I’m standing here now, before you, to just give me one chance to make things right. Please, sweetheart, I’m begging you.”

You concentrate on him, eyes scanning his form. His brunette hair is tousled and messy, his clothes are disheveled, and he looks unbelievably tired and stressed. Even though you’re angry and upset, you love him still, and your heart tells you to fight for any possible chance there might be to save this relationship.

“Fine, come in.”

You turn around and stalk into the living room. Remus’ heavy footsteps fall into step behind you and he shuts the door, sealing off the cold night. You take up home on your gray couch again, finding comfort in it amongst the most uncomfortable situation of your life.

He looks at you awkwardly and ruffles his hair, “can I sit?”

You scootch over to give him room even though your body craves to be closer.

“So, what great excuse do you have for tonight? For ignoring me?”

Remus coughs and turns a shade paler, “uhm, right, okay. Uh- I,” he curses quietly, “sorry. I. Okay I’m just gonna say it. I’ve been ignoring you because I’m- I’m a wizard. And I was scared to tell you because I thought you’d run away and think I’m crazy and I love you so much and. Yeah.”

Disbelief. That’s the only emotion you feel. You scoff loudly and glare at him, “are you fucking kidding me, Remus? A wizard. That’s your excuse? And what great one do you have for Lily, huh? Let me guess, she’s a vampire.”

“Well no she’s a witch actually and-“

Remus freezes, realizing that doesn’t really matter because you aren’t being serious.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes again and you stand up, wiping them away frustratedly, “Do you think I’m stupid, Lupin? Do you really discount my intelligence and dignity so much that you think you can use a bullshit excuse like that? I thought you’d at least grant me a mature conversation, but your behavior this past week should’ve warned me that wouldn’t be the case.”

“No, beautiful! I’m not lying, I would never, ever treat you so unkindly I- Well I know I’ve been unkind this week, but just let me show you.”

He fumbles in his dark brown coat and pulls out a long brown stick.

“Let me guess, that’s your wand. And where’s the broom?”

“I can’t afford one,” Remus says with a blush.

You only roll your eyes, “right then, let’s see you do a spell if you really are a wizard.”

He clears his throat nervously and nods. He flicks his ‘wand’ and a bouquet of red roses appears in his hand.

Your eyes widen and you’re impressed, but still not convinced. A flower- appearing-trick is an act you’re sure any skilled magician can pull off with some practice.

Remus extends them to you- “an apology. For being a right prick.”

A smile wavers on your face but you push it down and don’t accept his gift, “is that supposed to convince me, Remus? Any magician could do that.”

His hopeful gaze falters and he bites his lip, “right. Okay- okay hold on uh….Please don’t freak out.”

Remus stands up and moves to the middle of the room, and it’s not lost on you that you really feel like you’re attending a children’s magic show. He holds his hand with the wand to his head and taps twice and right before your eyes Remus slowly disappears into thin air.

Your heart quickens in your chest and you curl into the couch, “Remus! What the fuck?”

“Dove! I told you not to freak out.”

Something touches your arm and you scream, flinching away.

“Sorry, sorry, my love. It’s just me. I’m right in front of you.”

You tremble as your eyes dart around the room, brain not comprehending how you can hear but not see him.

“Baby, reach out slowly.”

You shake your head.

“Please,” he asks in a strained whisper.

With shaky hands you reluctantly reach out until your hands hit something. You flinch slightly, but when something warm wraps around your wrkdr you relax. Even when invisible you’d recognize that touch- the gentle, calloused skin of Remus’ hands.

“H-how? I- you- magic….”

Slowly Remus appears back in view and sits down, tentatively taking both of your hands into his. He almost sighs audibly when you don’t fight his touch.

“I’m happy to answer any questions you want, dove. Just, I want to know… do you still want me? Can you forgive me for lying and ignoring you? Do you think I’m a freak?”

You’re certainly dazed, but you’re awakened from your trance at those final words…. do you think I’m a freak?

Are you overwhelmed? Yes. Are you freaked out? Absolutely? Do you still not totally belive magic is real? For sure. Are you still mad at Remus? Yeah, maybe a little.

But do you think he’s a freak?

“Baby,” you sigh, eyes softening and hand moving to cup his face, “of course not. We… we certainly have a lot to talk about… both magical and communication based… but that doesn’t mean I love you any less. I’d love you less if you cheated or were a terrible person, or lied for a bad reason. But for being different than me… for being you, I could never, ever hate you. I don’t think you’re a freak baby. I love you, for all that you are. And I wish you would’ve trusted in me a little more.”

“I was just so scared to lose you,” he confesses hoarsely, his tired eyes dimming with sadness, “but I see I did that more by hiding than just telling you the truth.”

You hum and nod, running your thumb over his bony cheeks…

“Rem?”

He hums, brown eyes looking at you so softly you melt.

“I obviously have lots of other questions but first… Lily… you’re really not-“

“No! No! Dove, never. I love Lily, but she really is just a friend. She was actually lecturing me on the way to the pub tonight about how I was gonna mess things up with you if I didn’t get my act together.”

“Think I need to meet her formally…” you murmur amusedly, “we’d get along well…”

Remus chuckles fondly and carefully wraps you into his embrace.

You go nearly boneless.

“I really am sorry, my love,” he murmurs into your hair.

You inhale the scent of his sweater and the lingering smell of old books on his collar and sigh, “no more apologies, baby. Just promise me you’ll never do that again.”

Remus kisses your forehead gently, “never. But on that note, I should probably confess that I’m also a-“

[a-bottle-of-tyelenol]

I love reading Eurylochus analysis but I don’t see people mentioning the beginning of Puppeteer all that often.

Eurylochus starts that song by immediately trying to tell Odysseus about what he did. Immediately. I know we like to characterize Eurylochus as cowardly (mostly because that’s how Jorge describes him and how he’s described in the Odyssey), but I think it says a lot that Eurylochus didn’t try to hide or pretend as if this hadn’t been his fault. He didn’t wait for Odysseus to confront him about it or try to avoid taking responsibility. It’s rather brave imo that he tried to say something and only didn’t because his captain ordered him not to.

I think a lot about the timeline of EPIC and how entering the lair of Scylla likely wasn’t that long after Puppeteer. Odysseus says they’ve been away from home for “about twelve years or so” and then there’s the obvious discrepancy of Odysseus telling Circe the same thing— explained away by it being a simple mistake on Jorge’s end. If we go by the likelihood that it hadn’t yet been twelve years when they met Circe and that Ody was lying, there’s a rough two-ish year period before Eurylochus actually tells the truth.

To some, this might be indicative of his cowardice, a show that he wouldn’t actually tell the truth and would prefer to hide away his greatest mistake for as long as he can manage.

I disagree. I think this could indicate a couple other things, though; namely that this is proof Eurylochus changed his perspective and decided to listen to Odysseus. Mutiny could only happen because Eurylochus realized his mistake in not believing Odysseus not just once, with the windbag, but twice when Odysseus went to save their men on Circe’s island. Three strikes, you’re out and Eurylochus is not that kind of man— side note: it isn’t hypocritical to change your viewpoint and then criticize someone for adopting your old one btw, it’s just how people function.

Different Beast does imply this a bit, but I think the fact that Eurylochus waited so long to tell Odysseus about the windbag is much more blatant. After all, Odysseus told him to wait, and he did. To me, it seems like Eurylochus read between the lines of Ody’s order (go make sure the island is secure, there’s only so much left we can endure) and took it to mean “wait to tell me when things have settled and we aren’t on the brink of dying”.

Which leads to the second implication, why did Eurylochus choose this moment? Obviously, he didn’t know the nature of Scylla or the danger that they were in, but what about this moment in particular left Eurylochus feeling secure enough to tell Odysseus? Well, the obvious answer is the ruthlessness Odysseus showed in Different Beast showing that they’ve reached that point of power and being able to defend themselves even from monsters that have slain so many sailors.

But another option could be the idea that Scylla was their “last stop” before going home. It’s a bit unclear if this remains true in EPIC, but in the Odyssey, Scylla and Charybdis are right next to each other and the trick is that you have to pick your poison— do you want to die to the whirlpool monster or the six-headed one? What is clear in EPIC is that Ithaca is just past Charybdis, meaning that Scylla, in theory, could’ve been their final stop before reaching Ithaca had Mutiny not happened. There is a very real possibility that they might not have gone to the first island they found if Odysseus hadn’t been knocked unconscious. They still might have just because they were hungry, but it can be difficult to tell which is fate and which is the result of man’s actions.

Either way, I think that a lot of people tend to gloss over the fact that it’s very apparent Eurylochus was going to tell Odysseus what happened as soon as he could and only didn’t because Odysseus told him to wait. It’s a very interesting aspect of his character to me and I think it reveals a lot in terms of his character motivations and how it contrasts to Odysseus’ perception of him throughout the show.

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

juno - spencer reid x afab!reader

reader finds out how good spencer is with kids and can't keep the thoughts from pouring in

genre: fluff, smut wc: 2179 warnings: established relationship, daydreamer!reader, talk of pregnancy, p in v, unprotected sex(duh), brief breeding kink, i love yous, reader has hair?

my first time ever writing smut!!! keep your pitchforks to yourself please!!!

You've known for a long while of your boyfriend's affinity for the young souls out there. Perhaps he was one of them. Perhaps he was just an overgrown one of them. It was something spoken about early on, his love for kids. He mentioned that he's the godfather of his coworker's little boy and how he's always wanted one of his own. A boy or girl, it doesn't matter. As long as he got to raise one with the fatherly love he never quite received.

That was all fine and well to know until you actually got to see Spencer with a child. Babysitting Henry was supposed to be a way of letting JJ and Will have some fun for once. It turned out to be much more confusing. He was sweet, gentle, and spoke in a soft tone that drove you oddly insane. When he started doing card tricks, you thought your heart would explode.

That's why right now you're sitting in the car completely silent. You've never been one to shut up so it's no surprise that he knows something is off. It's not your fault that you're suddenly lost in an alternate reality in which you're in a large house with a small baby. Maybe two. It's not like you wanted to get started right away. Nonetheless, something about the idea was appealing.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks softly, eyes narrowed.

Technically, yes, you're fine. Too many thoughts but fine.

"Yeah, of course," you hum. "You were really good with Henry today."

A bright smile breaks out on his lips as he lets out a breath that's just barely a laugh. "You think?" his brows furrow, glancing over at you almost nervously.

You nod, shoulders loosening. "I do." While fiddling with your necklace, you add, possibly with too much meaning, "you'll be a really good dad."

His face turns red and he focuses on the road. Before long, the thoughts swarming in that head of his refuse to stay inside and he speaks gently, "is that what you're thinking about?"

A topic you've talked about—your tendency to daydream. It's not a thing you've kept hidden. In fact, it's your favourite pastime. However, it's a little awkward to tell your boyfriend that you're imagining him getting you pregnant.

But you were never a good liar.

"Yeah," you admit, fingers still at the pendant on your chest, eyes watching the passing scenery and streetlights.

"And?"

To that, you're not sure there's any response that doesn't seem insane.

"And what?" you ask cautiously.

After a quick glance in your direction as if he's testing the waters, he clarifies, "are you opposed?"

"To what?"

"Kids."

Oh. Well, no, not in the least. The idea of raising a family with Spencer is thrilling and you believe it's something you do want. You've always liked kids and kids have always liked you but the thought of seriously settling down has never truly crossed your mind. Until now, you suppose.

You shake your head, eyes lingering on his jawline. "No. You know that," you mutter softly.

"I do... but we've never talked about it. Just because you like children doesn't mean you necessarily want them," Spencer says like it's the most simple thing.

"True." The singular word is almost impossible to hear. You add gently, "but, I do."

He nods, turning his head to look at you in a way slightly different than all the other times. You can't quite place it, though. What you do know is that it definitely caused some major butterflies in your stomach. Then again, that happens a lot. But when his right hand moves from the steering wheel to your thigh, you're sure that look meant something. Something good, you think.

You're even more sure when, the moment you get to his apartment, he kisses you deep, lips parting to make way for his tongue. It's not rough at all. Loving, mostly. Like he's ensuring that you know you're cared for. You smile wide, unable to stop the giggle from leaving. Pulling back with an equally lovesick smile, he laughs, "what?"

Hardly a second later, you place another peck to his still grinning lips before answering with a bright, "what's going on?"

His eyebrows raise. "Nothing... I don't know what you mean," he says in easily a whole octave higher than usual. Your eyes narrow as you search his eyes.

You beg dramatically, "tell me."

He sighs then runs his fingers through his hair, unsure if he wants to bring it up. "About what you said... in the car... you meant it?"

"What I said...? About kids?"

Spencer nods. "Yes."

"I meant it, yes." It's spoken hesitantly. You're not positive where this conversation is heading.

"I just... like the thought," he shrugs, leaving you to walk towards the bedroom.

Really confused and a little intrigued, you follow, watching him start to unbutton his cardigan. "The thought?" you hum, crossing your arms in an attempt at nonchalance.

"Of you... pregnant," he mumbles like he doesn't want you to hear, letting the piece of clothing fall to the ground before picking it up to put it in his laundry bin.

He didn't need to say it like that. He could've said the thought of starting a family, of having a child. You're not a profiler but the way he decided to word the sentence makes you think something bigger has been revealed. Freudian slip or intentional, he's not telling you everything that's on his mind.

"Pregnant. Really?" You picture it and, perhaps it's because you'll be the one carrying it, but all you seem to be able to picture is chubby ankles, morning sickness, and mood swings.

Simply, Spencer nods, eyes finally meeting yours. You smile up at him sweetly as his hands come to cup your face. "There's just—I don't know... something appealing about it. About being the one to..."

Now, you get it.

"Oh. Like—oh! So, that's what...?" you babble purely out of shock.

Who knew Spencer Reid had the fantasy of impregnating you floating around in his brain?

His hands drop to your shoulders, squeezing gently. "Does that make you uncomfortable? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—just forget—"

To his surprise, you cut off the soon-to-be-ramble with your lips on his. It takes a second for him to understand what's happening but he does, mouth moving against yours eagerly, his hands sliding up to your face. While smiling, you drag your hand down his neck and to his tie, tugging it loose. Once he clues in to where you want this to go, his fingers slip under your shirt, gripping your waist firmly. The tie comes off, dropping to the floor and, soon enough, your shirt's gone, too.

He takes a few steps to the bed before lowering you onto it carefully. As if handling glass, he glides his hand down your stomach, to the button of your jeans.

"Can these come off?" he pants against your lips.

Nodding desperately, you whisper, "yeah."

With a nod back, Spencer unbuttons the jeans and pulls them down your legs. His palms slide up your thighs as he presses another kiss to your mouth. "Go lay down?" he suggests softly.

You comply immediately, moving up on the bed and laying your head on the pillows to watch him undo his shirt one button at a time. Next, his belt comes off. And then his pants. When he's left in only boxers, he positions himself above you before kissing down your neck. Your back arches and he uses the opportunity to move his fingers to the clasp of your bra.

You aren't at all unfamiliar with his skill but, every time, it continues to catch you off guard how, in a few minutes, you're at his mercy, willing to do anything he asks of you. Then again, when are you not?

He tosses the bra aside to join the rest of the discarded clothes on his bedroom floor. His attention is, of course, then drawn to your chest, one of his hands grabbing at you while the other suddenly starts small circles over your underwear.

"Spencer, I don't need that," you mutter breathily. You don't really want his hand at the moment.

His head lifts from your neck, placing a sweet kiss to your cheek. Spencer asks quietly, "are you sure?"

There isn't much you're capable of doing at the moment so you nod. He takes the answer and hooks both index fingers into the waistband of your panties. His eyes fall directly to the newly revealed area the same way they always do, adoration spilling out of him at the sight of the collecting wetness. A small smile on your face, your hands drift down to take off his boxers.

With the last barriers removed, your lips connect again and his hand moves to line himself up with you. The kiss breaks when he looks down to watch himself push into you, a whimper leaving you and a shaky breath leaving him. He quickly bottoms out and you whine.

Softly, he murmurs, "you okay?"

"Yeah, just," you laugh, "...full."

Spencer breathily chuckles with you, nodding like he's trying to get himself together. "Right."

After a deep breath, his hips start slowly, letting both of you adjust to the feeling of each other again. No matter how many times you do this, you still always need a minute to get used to him. Your breaths come out in gentle pants and occasional whimpers until he speeds up and you can't contain yourself. Desperate moans of pleasure spill from your lips as he moves.

"Doing so good—feels so good," he mumbles, eyes now screwed shut.

"Really, really good," you nod eagerly, voice soft. Your hands paw at his back in search of anything to hold on to.

The sensation is almost too much you think you might burst. Although, when he starts to whimper, that's when you really lose it. The way he sounds and the way his face scrunches up, it's intoxicating. You need more of it.

You cry with want, "harder... please."

Like always, he attempts to give you everything you need and desire. He nods, hips quickening and lewd sounds coming from your bodies. A small gasp leaves you. Your legs wrap around his waist, allowing him to hit your deepest point. It's a feeling you'll never quite get used to. The moment he reaches that spot, it's never long after that it's over.

Letting out a gasp, you clench around him, causing his movements to falter and become more frantic. A breath quickly leaves him before he's asking, "inside, right?"

You whine, "mhm," dangerously close to slipping off that ledge. Your mind brings you to images of you pregnant, his baby growing inside you. This time not so scary. You imagine this moment in a very different time, when his release will signal a new start and not just an end.

His mouth finds your shoulder, pressing careful kisses to the skin. The hand not holding his body weight finds the sensitive point between your legs, eliciting a loud moan from you. Desperately, you cling to him, arms wrapping around him for any more contact. That familiar feeling builds deep in your gut and you whine, finding your eyes rolling back.

It happens quickly, the finish line getting closer and closer until it's gone and you're in another universe of pleasure. Your hips try to escape but Spencer doesn't let that happen. His hand moves from your center to your hip, holding you down with little force. The fog clears just in time to watch him reach that very same ecstasy. Lips parted against your shoulder, he whimpers, movements becoming even sloppier until they slow.

The odd warmth spills from you. His breaths come heavy as he relaxes against you and pats your head—an interesting choice of affection after sex but somehow suitable. When he pulls out, you sigh shakily, watching him go to the bathroom. Before long, he's back with a damp cloth. He opens your legs again, running the fabric over you with a tenderness you couldn't possibly describe.

He joins you after discarding the cloth. An elbow holds him up so he can look at you, looking so perfect, lips swelled and hair splayed delicately over the plush pillows. He's staring. Mind wandering, he pictures a world in which you're rounder and perhaps with a ring on your finger. You're deep into pregnancy, probably grumpy with him but he doesn't care because you're his. Only his, forever.

Again, not today, not now, but someday. When the funds are appropriate and you know it's the right choice. Not that he ever doubted.

Just above a whisper, he says, "so... that doesn't mean I want—"

"I know. I'm glad," you grin, still quite dazed but completely content.

A kiss is pressed to your forehead and he sighs. "I love you."

"I love you," you mutter back.

As previously stated, Spencer Reid is a man that's good with kids. You presume he's even better with you, though.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Can I request NSFW headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor being spanked by his female s/o after she received his consent please?

Astarion

Astarion was originally joking at first. ‘Oh yes. Spank me. I’ve been a bad boy.’ kind of thing. He never thought she would actually go for it or be open to doing it.

He feels a little obligated to do it after that. Astarion doesn’t want to back down, but there has been a lot of beatings in his past for the sexual gratification of others. He’s never liked it though.

With her, it’s different. It’s only a few taps but it feels completely changed. As if he knows it will stop if he wants. That the sting is not just hurting just to hurt. That he can trust them.

He doesn’t hate it nearly as much as he thought but doesn’t think he will ask for it again.

Gale

Gale likes to push the limits, and feels all manner of sexual exploration should be, well, explored. As long as it’s just the two of them.

He has read, of course, of people who like to be spanked or hit during sex. Gale is fairly certain he would not like to be hit, but the spanking does excite him. He has as dominating woman kink a mile long after all.

Furthermore, having his sex life be totally incorporeal for so long, Gale is aroused at all ideas of corporeal play.

He likes it a lot more than he expected and is a little embarrassed. He isn’t sure if she could tell or not how much he enjoyed it, but is a little too embarrassed to ask again and hopes his clever girl figures it out.

Wyll

Wyll isn’t too sure how the topic came up for him to get spanked, but he’s willing to try anything once.

Maybe it’s his own curiosity has gotten the better of him again but he’s interested in what it feels like.

Terrible at the set up for it. Like ‘should I just drop my pants and….’. No art to the build up for such a moment. The first spank sends a spark through him. One that gives him a jolt. The ones after aren’t nearly as enjoyable.

Wyll is glad that they tried it but doesn’t think it’s for him. So they will just catalog that as lesson learned.

Halsin

Being open to all experiences, Halsin has been spanked before. He really had no opinion on the experience but is open to trying it again.

Given how big he is, he does enjoy being the submissive one from time to time. The spanking lets him relax this way. Hand over control to his partner for a while.

Also the pain is exciting. He only enjoys it if it’s his partner’s hand, however. Halsin doesn’t like to be hit with things. Although….maybe some rope vines. The feel of her hand caressing the redden flesh of his ass. Feeling it tingle and pucker at her touch excites him.

Halsin won’t ask for this treatment on his own, but is always open to it when she wants to initiate it during sex. He’s honestly more embarrassed when she smacks his butt in passing when they are out over when she spanks him in bed.

Dammon

Dammon is a little shy about the request, and it takes him a little while to work up the nerve to ask his partner if they will do it for him.

He’s not sure why he decided to ask. Being around men and soldierly types most of his life, Dammon had overheard the stories they shared while waiting for their gear. The one about being spanked always stuck with him.

He blushes about as red as Rolan when told to get on all fours on the bed. Arms shaking like he’s swung his hammer for days. When the first strike happens, Dammon decides that he doesn’t like it.

It’s not the pain, he can handle that, but he’s decided that he doesn’t like people behind him when he’s naked and he can’t see her face while they are doing this. He apologizes for not being able to follow through, even though this was his idea, and offers to have sex the usual way.

Rolan

For Rolan you would have to trick him into it a little. His pride would not allow him to kneel or bend to anyone (not again).  

He would need to be convinced that he would look so sexy bent over, with a mix of ‘well, if you don’t think you’re strong or secure enough’ for him to do it.

Of course, he takes the bait like the typical brat that he is. And like a typical brat he really enjoys it. Rolan knows that he is difficult, stubborn, and downright pigheaded some days. He knows someone should put him in his place but he’s too scared to give up control to anyone. Until she came along and turned his world upside-down. Took the weight off him a little. Put him in his place for good.

He makes no comment on whether he enjoyed it or not. Too embarrassed about his own pleasure. But, he is noticeably more calm. Until he isn’t and starts acting bratty again; which means he wants another spanking from s/o.

Zevlor

Zev is a little insulted by the request. He’s fine with experimenting, but spanking? Given his advanced age it seems a little out of place. Like he’s a child or something.

Of course, he’s willing to try it. The position is the worst part of him. Being…exposed and vulnerable like this is not a natural state for him as a warrior. However, he tries to remain calm.

When it starts, however, Zevlor actually enjoys it. The numbing pain, the position, the sub verse scolding manner of spanking. After everything that happened he felt like he should be punished, but nothing seemed to satisfy. This seems to satisfy both.

In his darker moments moving forward, Zevlor will ask for this. To submit, not think, and be punish for his failings. To be comforted after his equally important to him and he doesn’t want to stop.

[atlanticum]

A rundown of my favorite "The Queen of Nothing" moments<33333

• Does he have a new seneschal? Does he have a new lover? <…> Does he talk about me?…

• “Love is stupid. All we do is break one another's hearts.” I feel like Jude agreed with Heather at that moment:/

• “You,” I say to my twin. “Get out.” YOU GO GIRL

• “Locke is dead” LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS IS THE MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR

• The very thought of being there, of seeing Cardan, speeds my heart. Oh juuuuude

• "I knew you liked her," says Locke. "That's why I had to have her first. Do you remember the party in my maze garden? How I kissed her while you watched?" "I recall that your hands were on her, but her eyes were on me," Cardan returns. I FUCKING LOVE THIS

• "I loved him." "Sometimes I believed that you did, yes," Cardan says absently. AND THE FACT THAT HE KNEW IT WAS JUDE

• "Jude never loved Locke." "She loved someone else. He's the one she'd want dead.” —or in her bed who knows;)?!

• WHEN CARDAN SAYS HE’LL “EXAMINE” HER ALONE IN HIS CHAMBERS. Naughtyyy boy;)

• “Well, didn’t you get my letters?” “What letters?” THIS LITERALLY RIPS MY HEART OUT AND TEARS IT TO SHREDS

• "Jude, you can't really think I don't know it's you. I knew you from the moment you walked into the brugh." *Crying, screaming, throwing up*

• When Cardan tries to explain the exile to her and that it was all a trick that she was supposed to figure out and be proud of him, but he doesn’t have enough time… :(

• I am the Queen of Elfhame. Even though I am the queen in exile, I am still the queen. And that means Madoc isn't just trying to take Cardan's throne. He's trying to take mine.

• The fact that even when The Ghost betrayed her, when Jude found him she still wanted to save him!!! SHE’S THE BEST

• I'm not going to let myself get distracted by letters I never received or the way he looked at me when we were alone in his rooms or my father's theories about his weaknesses. I’m a tad speechless…

• WHEN THE ROACH COMES TO SAVE HER WITH CARDAAAAN!!! AND FOR HER HE LOOKS EVERY INCH A SPY FROM THE COURT OF SHADOWS

• “That boy is your weakness” OH WOW stupid Madoc is right about one thing. SHOCKER.

• Let Cardan not be shot. Let the Ghost be clumsy. Let me get inside easily. Let me stop him.

I do not pause to ask myself why I am in such a panic to save someone for whom I swore I rooted out every feeling. I will not think about that. Oh, sweetheart.

• “Do not touch her. She is my wife," Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. “The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile." CHILLS. literal chills.

• Cardan stands over me. <…> His white sleeves are rolled up, and he’s washing my hands with a wet cloth. My gods, i’m dying, he cares about her so much

• (about the gown)>> It is perhaps too plain for a queen, but Cardan is extravagant enough for both of us.

• “And the next thing we know, the High King is on our doorstep looking ready to tear down the whole apartment complex to find you” AAGHAHAHA I LOVE HIM

• “It was terrifying watching you fall. I mean you’re generally terrifying, but I am unused to fearing for you. And then I was furious. I am not sure I have ever been that angry before”

• “I was afraid of you when I had a knife to your throat” this tore my heart open

• “This is my room” he points out, affronted “And that’s my wife”. FUCK YEAH “So you keep telling everyone” the bomb says AAAHAH LOVE HER

• “Oh, I don’t know,” I say “Maybe he’d like to hear me scream”. oh he would “I would” Cardan says “And perhaps one day I will” I’M FOLDED.

• “Unlike Locke, I never thought love was a game” he says “You may accuse me of much, but not that” oh boy

• “I offer my queen’s hospitality. The hospitality if knives” ah, yes, badass jude

• “You looked like a knight jn a story tonight” I’M ON MY KNEES CRYING. THIS IS TOO CUTE.

• “By you, I am forever undone” I AM SCREAAAAMINGGGGGG

• “My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned”

• “It’s you I love” he says “I spent much of my life guarding my heart. I guarded it so well that I could behave as though I didn’t have one at all. Even now, it is a shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing. But it is yours” ABSOLUTELY MELTINGGGGG

• I can’t believe he said that and then just walked out, leaving me reeling. I am going to strangle him. I adore her

• When the bomb hugs her once they see each other, when Cardan was turned into a snake.

• “Please. I will do whatever you want. I will give up the crown. I will make any bargain. Just please fix him. Help me break the curse” im gonna cry

• I was happy, just before everything went so terribly wrong. This is gut wrenching

• They won. Everything was going to work out. AND HE LOVED HER

• “I would settle for even his worst self, his cruelest trickster self, if only he could be here” THIS IS ENEMIES TO LOVERS AHAAHAHA

• The Ghost’s eyebrows rise, and he glances at me. I grin.

• Like the whole thing how the Roach is telling the Bomb that he loves her is hilarious and super cute.

• The way Jude thinks that she can never tell Cardan how she feels is so sad. If Holly black had actually killed him off I would have died with him.

• “With my whole heart, I wish Cardan was here” she is longing for his annoyance I CANNNOT

• WHEN NICASIA TOLD HER THAT HE SENT THE GOWN I WAS SCREAMING MY GODSsss “He never told you, did he?”

• “And I saw the way you used to look at him when you didn’t think anyone was watching you” AAAH YESSS

• He’s every bit as terrifying as any serpent. i don’t care. I run into his arms. IM ON THE FLOOR SOBBING

• He holds me as though I am the only solid thing in the world. im absolutely dead in the best way possible

• “You don’t want me dead” “If you joke about this, I am going to—“ “Kill me?” I think I might hate him after all Thin line between love and hate, right Jude;)

• “I knew little else, but I always knew you” MY HEART IS EXPLODING

• And when he kisses me, I feel as though I can finally breathe again. MY HEART SQUEEZED IN THE BEST POSSIBLE WAY

• When Cardan silences Randalin when he interrupts Jude. You tell them KING

• THEY’RE CELEBRATING THAT THEY GOT MARRIED YEYYYYYYYYY

• When Cardan adjust his crown and she rolLs HeR eYeS and HE GRINS.

• To family and Faerieland and pizza and stories and new beginnings and scheming great schemes. I can toast to that.

i’m absolutely in love with these series🤍

[inkempressz]

could you write for a yandere prince x maid reader?

Thinking about a handsome prince gone yandere for a maid…

The prince watches you.

You don’t notice at first. Why would you? You’re just a maid in a palace filled with nobility and grandeur, a speck of dust among the diamonds. You go about your work quietly, sweeping the endless floors, polishing the silver that glints in the sunlight, and keeping your head down like you’re supposed to.

But then you start to feel it.

His gaze is heavy, lingering on you from across the room. It doesn’t matter where you are—dusting the grand hall, arranging flowers in the dining room, or sneaking out to the gardens for a breath of fresh air late at night. Somehow, he’s always there, always watching.

At first, you tell yourself it’s nothing. Just your imagination playing tricks on you. Why would the crown prince waste his time on you? He’s perfect, after all. Every movement he makes is elegant, every word he speaks is wrapped in charm. The servants adore him. The nobles worship him. The kingdom loves him.

But he doesn’t look at them the way he looks at you.

You realize it one day when he corners you in the hall. You’re carrying a tray of wine glasses, trying to pass without drawing attention to yourself, but his voice stops you in your tracks.

“Where are you going?” he asks, his tone light but his eyes dark.

“Just delivering these, Your Highness,” you answer, keeping your head down. You can feel your hands shaking, the tray wobbling in your grasp.

“Let me help you,” he says, stepping closer.

You shake your head quickly. “That’s not necessary, Your Highness. I can manage—”

Before you can finish, he takes the tray from your hands, his fingers brushing yours. The touch makes your skin crawl, though you don’t know why. His smile is kind on the surface, but there’s something lurking beneath it, something that makes your chest tighten.

“I insist,” he says, his voice softer now, almost tender. “You work so hard. Let me take care of you for once.”

It’s not a request.

From that moment on, it’s like he’s everywhere. He knows when you’re feeling unwell, when you’ve missed a meal, even when you’ve cried yourself to sleep. You don’t know how he knows, but he does.

“You shouldn’t stay up so late,” he murmurs one day, his voice startling you as you’re cleaning the empty dining room. You hadn’t heard him come in, but now he’s standing right behind you, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck.

You spin around, clutching your cleaning cloth like a lifeline. “How did you…?”

His smile widens, and for the first time, it doesn’t feel kind at all. “I know more about you than you think.”

His words echo in your mind long after he leaves. You start checking your room for cracks, for shadows, for anything that might explain why you always feel like you’re being watched. You try to stay in crowded areas, to avoid being alone, but it doesn’t matter.

He always finds you.

One night, you wake to the sound of your door creaking open. Your heart pounds as a tall figure steps inside, the dim moonlight outlining his face.

“Shh,” he whispers when you try to move. His voice is soft, soothing, but his eyes glint with something that freezes you in place. “It’s just me.”

“Y-Your Highness…” you stammer, your voice trembling. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he says simply, as if that explains why he’s standing in your room in the dead of night. He steps closer, sitting on the edge of your bed like he belongs there.

“You shouldn’t be afraid of me,” he says, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. You flinch, but he doesn’t stop. His hand lingers, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek.

“I’ve been watching over you,” he continues, his tone gentle but possessive. “Protecting you. No one else will care for you the way I do.”

Tears well up in your eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away. His grip tightens just enough to remind you who’s in control.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, his lips curling into a smile that sends a shiver down your spine. “And I’ll never let you go.”

[iwnbam]

When it’s been months of holding eye contact at the breakfast table and making “joking” obscene noises into my voice chat when I know he can hear and barging into his room while he’s trying to mix beats so I can roll on his bed and desecrate the neat sheets and lay myself out like an entree while he pointedly doesn’t take his eyes off the monitor screen.

I say something about his ex girlfriend the cheerleader and he tells me to shut the fuck up. I tell him it’s been a month and he needs to get over it and find some other girl to creampie in mom and dad’s room while they’re away. He has no dignified answer for me. So I keep talking. She was a mid pull anyway. She’s not friends with any of the other girls on the team. She’s a loser. He can do better. He rips his headphones off and moves across the room to grab me and throw me out. I do my fake girly moan when he puts his hands on me and he drops me on the ground immediately.

When he’s at band practice I have his whole room to myself. I open the cigarette packet on his desk and lick all his remaining Lucky Strikes. I open his closet and smell all the shirts, the last note of that gourmand cologne, a smell you could swallow whole. I grab his pillow and bundle it in my lap when I boot the PC up. I know his password. I asked him and he told me. The trick is to do it in the morning after he’s been out late, when his brain is still glazed over and he’ll agree with anything I want in that sleepy, scratched-up early voice of his as long as I leave him to stay in bed for longer.

There’s nothing new in his search history. That’s the problem. No entries from last night. But I saw him, typing away, headphones on, through the door when I passed in the hallway. Whatever was there, he’s cleared it. He’s fastidious.

The gig is on Sunday. I know my gimmick. I already have the materials. I hid the sparkly pom-poms in my duffel bag, beside the shin guards and deodorant. My friends are in on it, because we’re all immature and think faggotry is hilarious. I lock my door to try it on and look at myself in the mirror the night before. I turn. The size is wrong, because the skirt covers 1/16th of my ass.

Sunday night. He nearly doesn’t see me because he’s doing his shoegaze thing, fuzzing his guitar signal with the array of pedals at his feet. When he looks up I give him a little spin. My friends roar in laughter, cheer and point me out like he isn’t already staring, eyes blown wide behind those black-rimmed glasses. I spell out the name of his band with my arms, beaming in the cheer uniform that usually isn’t so slutty, but is on me, hugging tight over my arms and chest. Oh, I love the look on his face. I know it well. He’s pissed and trying his absolute best not to show it.

I’m posing for a photo after the show when he appears behind me, guitar on his back. He has his amp in one hand. He moves it to his left and grabs me by the back of my shirt to haul me away. The flash of the cameras keeps going. I throw my friends a last sign of the horns before I’m dragged to the parking lot and thrown into the passenger seat of his car. The cheerleader top has ripped a bit at the back where he grabbed me. I am going to be in trouble with the girl who lent it to me.

“Not in the backseat?” I ask, trying to sound more mocking than disappointed. He says nothing. Just drives in silence. I’m starting to second guess myself when I think back to the old links he didn’t clear before I could get to them. I’m already in a miniskirt with my cheeks on the leather seat - I might as well full send it. “Come on. Pull over. You know you want to. You’re a dirty freak, I’ve seen your search history. You can act as cool as you want, but just look at me and I know your pervert cock will twitch in your pants.”

He keeps his eyes on the road. I change my tack. “Please? I’m your baby brother and you love me. If you don’t pull over and fuck me in the backseat, I’m going to cry.”

We’re almost home. “Nobody has to know,” I say. “It’ll be our secret. Dad’s out of town so you can be my daddy.”

In the driveway, he gets out before me and slams the door. When I stay in the seat, he comes around to the window and glares at me. I think I’m out of luck at this point. I’ve let my hopes overtake me. Weeks of masturbating in his underwear have made me need more, made me audacious.

“You’re stupid as fuck,” he finally says. It’s the first thing he’s said to me today. “Being friends with those guys. Do they know, huh? You grew a goatee and your voice dropped and now you think you’re invincible? You know what guys like that will do to you when they find out you have a cunt they can fuck?”

Before I can answer he tears the door of the car open and yanks me out. I’m scrambling through my answers. “What if I want it? What if I want them to find out so I can take all of their dicks one by one?”

His hand moves to my hair and he pulls me by it, through the front door, up the stairs. “I’ll tell on you. I swear to God. If you let any of them put their hands on you I’ll tell mom and she’ll know how much of a filthy slut you are.”

The door he pushes us through isn’t his bedroom. The quilt is floral. The headboard of the king sized bed is dark wood. “Any time you want dick,” he pants, and I see the perfectly-minted composure of his begin to drop away, “you come straight to me.”

He’s above me on our parents’ bed, unbuckling his belt. “I can’t be doing this,” he says, his voice strained.

“So stop,” I tell him.

He’s already a mess of precum; I’ve been slick wet ever since I put the skirt on. “We can’t,” he repeats, in a voice that tells me that’s just why he needs to.

Our parents’ wedding photo is framed above the bed. He sinks the tip into me. The photo watches as we turn into a mess of moaning and moving, the cheerleader’s skirt pushed up, my big brother’s cock sliding in and out of me.

By now I know what gets him off. “Ah-ah-ah—,” then, between moans, the most innocent voice I can do. “You have to stop, what if—what if mom and dad—aahh, ah, oh, fuck!”

I know I’ve caught him when he slams a long thrust and then tries to jerk his hips back. I’m too fast. I wrap my legs around his torso and grind up, locking him in place even as he tries to pull away, but can’t, until he’s coming with a long tangle of cries, hips fucking into me inadvertently, filling me with ropes of wrong, sweet cum.

[aishangotome]

[Nokto] Love's Cleaning Time - Part 3

Part 2

Emma: Could that man perhaps––

Emma: Resemble the person I love?

The shopkeeper blinked in surprise, then burst into laughter.

Bookstore owner: So that's how you're going to play it. I see, there's no gag order on that question.

Bookstore owner: I'll just say they resemble each other.

(Just as I thought... All those books were sent by Nokto.)

*flashback over*

(After that, I actually tried to press Nokto for answers, but...)

(I reconsidered and stopped, thinking he might have a reason for wanting to keep it a secret.)

(But now... I wonder if I can subtly ask him about it.)

Keeping my eyes on the books I was holding, I voiced the question that came to mind.

Emma: Even so, every single book that arrived was interesting.

Emma: They were all full of love amidst the sadness, and I reread them many times.

Emma: It must have taken a long time to choose them, Nokto, right?

(...I wonder if this kind of rudimentary, leading question is no good...)

While my heart pounded, I tried to maintain a calm facade...

Nokto: Well, yeah. But it wasn't such a bad way to spend my time, surprisingly.

Emma: Eh...?

I hurriedly looked up at his unexpectedly straightforward answer, but Nokto was looking at me with his usual relaxed smile.

Nokto: The person who sent them probably thinks it wasn't such a bad way to spend their time.

Emma: I asked that question to Nokto just now, right?

Nokto: That's right. So I just answered on behalf of the person who sent them.

Emma: That doesn't seem to make sense...

Nokto: So, let's say you've figured out that I'm the one who sent the books. What are you going to do about it?

Nokto: It was so long ago, and now there's no evidence.

(It's true there's no evidence, but I did hear that story at the bookstore.)

(Nokto's reply just now, maybe this is the final push...!)

My heart races with the premonition that this time, I might be able to hear the truth from his own mouth.

Emma: But whoever the sender is, I'm very grateful.

Emma: Back then, my life had changed completely, and I was so busy learning that I couldn't even go to the bookstore to carefully choose books.

Emma: Rio, Sariel, Leon, and the others were worried about me. It was really a good way for me to take a break.

Emma: Around the time I started to get used to palace life, I went around to bookstores in town to make up for lost time.

Nokto: You know, there was that day when you went out to browse bookstores on your day off and didn't come back until evening.

Emma: Was there...?

Nokto: Oh, you don't remember? I was waiting for you to come home, crying sadly.

Emma: ...Were you really crying?

Nokto: Now, who knows?

Emma: Honestly...

A smile naturally spreads across my face at Nokto's teasing reply, which hasn't changed since those days.

Emma: But it's true that I might have been going around bookstores from morning till night. The bookstores in town have slightly different selections, you know.

Emma: Oh, speaking of which, the owner of the bookstore near the fountain praised Nokto's taste in alcohol.

Emma: He was impressed that you even knew about rare alcohol. How did you learn about his taste in alcohol?

Nokto: How, you ask? Well, that's...

Nokto: ......

After a moment of silence, Nokto gave a small smile as if admitting defeat.

Nokto: Hmm, it seems difficult to recover from this.

(...!)

Nokto: You've become quite the negotiator, haven't you?

Emma: So then, could it be...?

Nokto: You win this time. Trying to trick me like that, you're pretty good, aren't you?

Finally arriving at the answer, I smiled, suppressing the urge to jump for joy on the spot.

Emma: I'm growing thanks to you, Nokto. I was pretty natural, wasn't I?

Nokto: Just a little. Well, I admit you did your best, but...

Nokto: I've got a bone to pick with that bookstore owner. I bribed him, and yet he still gave you information.

Emma: He didn't tell me it was Nokto.

Emma: I just asked, "Doesn't he resemble the person I love?"

Nokto: Ah, so that's how it is.

Nokto: When you first came to the palace, you were a stiff, serious girl. When did you become so cunning?

As Nokto chuckled and sighed, I asked him what I had always wanted to know.

Emma: Why didn't you tell me back then that you were the one sending the gifts?

Nokto: Why, indeed? Just a whim, I suppose?

Not satisfied with that answer, I stared up at Nokto.

Nokto: So, would it sound more plausible if I said that giving books as gifts isn't really my style?

Nokto's evasiveness triggered an intuition, a gut feeling.

Emma: It sounds plausible, but that's not the real reason, is it?

Emma: The me from back then might have believed that, but it won't work on me now, the one who knows Nokto inside and out.

Nokto: Oh? That's a nice thing to say.

Emma: Could it be that you were too embarrassed to say so, Nokto?

I thought I was getting close, but Nokto's expression didn't change.

Nokto: No way. I said it was just on a whim, didn't I?

Emma: But to give me that many books on a whim...

Nokto: If it makes you happy, it's a small price to pay, right?

Emma: ! Nokto...

Nokto: Right now, I'd rather focus on getting back at you for tricking me than dwell on the past.

Emma: Eh... Ah!

Nokto placed the books he had received on a nearby table.

Then, he smoothly pulled my arm and pushed me onto the bed.

Emma: Getting back at me? But I told you just now that I'm still cleaning!

Nokto: Of course I'm interrupting you. Getting back at you is my top priority.

Emma: Wait... Nn, ah!

Nokto's hand entered my skirt without hesitation, and my body trembled with a shiver at the sensation of his fingers caressing my inner thigh.

(No, if this continues, I'll be swept away again. At least...)

Before our lips could touch, I lightly grasped Nokto's shoulder as if to stop him.

Emma: I... have one thing I want to confirm.

.

.

.

Part 4

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[xxplastic-cubexx]

friend notoriously bad at videogames said shed play marvel rivals with me tomorrow chat if i never post after tomorrow night its because a blood vessel bursted

[inkykeiji]

touya-nii is so jealous of everythingggg and you do such a good job writing it!!!! he also seems so needy >,<

aw hehe thank you so much!!! (ㅅ´ ˘ `) ♡ yes!! he is extremely jealous, extremely possessive, and extremely obsessive. this gives way to a peculiar type of clinginess; he needs to know where you are at all times, who you’re with, and when you’ll be returning. he wants all of your attention on HIM, yet he can be stingy with his own—he uses it as a currency for good (aka submissive/tightly controlled) behaviour: if you’re obedient, if you do as he says, he’ll reward you with attention in exchange. he uses it as an incentive, to entice you into complacency (which sometimes backfires, since your misbehaviour almost always garners his attention, even if it isn’t good attention). he can also be physically clingy, always needing a part of your body touching his; his hands on your waist or back or neck, your thigh slotted up against his own, tangled fingers a mess in his lap, etc. he just wants all of you, all the time—even when he tells you he doesn’t

[laugtherhyena]

Playlist listened to while writing; https://spotify.link/WzxvdTKBCJb

Holy shit dude, the ceo of rei angst wrote some rei angst what the HELL!! We have to kill her guys she cant keep getting away with this.

Anyways im gonna be writing about a lot of these nerds. I just love rei. This is really rushed and I am really sleepy so it is not my best writing.

Also i cannot write teruya so you will habe to ppppUT UP WITH IT.

Warnings for like. Violence and my attempt at writing a breakdown.

-

Rei held the rusty pipe like a baseball bat, swinging for a homerun as she smacked off the head of someone she once knew. Someone who had abandoned her long ago.

The rotting head of what used to be her mother rolled on the ground, sickly green skin squishing against the ground and stared up at her with lifeless eyes.

“I didn’t want to see you again like this,” Rei hissed as her chest heaved, “i wanted to see you staring with regret as you saw your daughter on top of the world. I didn’t want to kill you or see you dead.”

That had been the second time she had run into her zombified mother. The first, she had been a coward, unable to kill her and her father– the two people she hated most, the two people who had abandoned her and left her on the streets.

Where had all her rage gone that time. When had she become soft.

-

Midori clung to Ryutaro with all the strength in her frail body. “My brother,” she whispered, “i saw my brother’s corpse down there. Kakeru… he… they got Kakeru… they killed Kakeu…”

He didn’t say much in return, but he did pat her hand briefly– the only comforting action he could manage while carrying her.

“I see a store up ahead. Let’s stop by there for supplies.” Keisuke pointed out to the leader of the bunch.

Setsuka patted the clown on the back and gave him a smile. “Sounds good, lead the way. Maki, do you need me to carry Yamaguchi for a bit?”

Midori wrapped her arms and legs around Ryutaro a bit tighter at the suggestion, very much attached to the guy who had found her and saved her from zombies.

“I’ll be fine until we reach the stop.” The blonde nodded his acknowledgement to the bluenette, forcing a smile as he struggled to catch up.

The group walked in silence for a bit, the only sounds being the orchestra of distant zombie groans.

“Miss Yamaguchi,” Hikaru said after bit, his tone fatherly like usual, “may I check your pulse soon? And may I check if the swelling on your ankles has gone down?”

“Yeah, that… sounds good. Thank you, Uncle.”

-

Kanata removed the bandages from Ayame’s arm gradually.

“There isn’t any sign of infection, Hatano. Kinjo and Maki are still out, so… uhm… can I get you something to eat?” The surgeon spoke softly as she stared at the sprinter.

“I’m not hungry…” Ayame mumbled.

“Inori!” Tomori slammed the door open, her eyes sunken from lack of sleep, “i think i got bit. Check! Check, please!!”

Kanata bit back a sigh of exasperation and forced out her cheerful smile. “Of course. Where do you think you were bit this time?”

“My ankle. They went after my ankle so I couldn’t run! They’re going to eat me. I’m going to die, aren’t I? Oh, god, I’m going to die!” The cheerleader’s words were jumbled together and practically nonsensical. She grabbed onto Kanata’s shoulders as she spoke, her nails digging into the other’s lab coat and pressing her skin uncomfortably.

“Miss Tomori,” Kanata winced, “please let go of me. I will check your ankle, but I am sure you are fine.”

“I’m not fine!” Kizuna wailed before glaring accusatory daggers at Ayame. “If you… if you hadn't gotten yourself bitten! If you had just seen that bitch for what she is! We wouldnt be doomed! You’ve doomed us all!”

Ayame took the words without fighting back. What had been the point in fighting anymore? Kizuna was right. She had doomed them all.

“Miss Tomori, please… Taira had us all fooled… if Miss Hatano is to blame, then so are the rest of us…” the blonde murmured. “Please sit down so I can check your ankle…”

-

Mindless. Kinji was mindless. His faith had only been able to spare him for so long.

His teeth were decayed now. His skin was green and purple and yellow. His eyes were dull. His cheeks were sunken.

It was incredible that his mind stayed intact long enough for him to bury as many as he did. The only bodies he didn’t put 6 feet under, the only bodies he couldn’t handle burying, were those of the people he knew.

But what was the point?

-

Yuki held his stomach as he choked up and spat out the last meal he had, beans that had barelt even begun to digest.

“Urgh… gross…” he mumbled to himself.

Shinji was away at the moment, scouting out for the next safe place for them to go and likely trying to find his family in the process.

The lucky student fought back envious tears. At least they knew there was a chance that Shinji’s family was alive– they found his mother, Aiko, brutally murdered in the Maeda household. Her corpse was bloated and rotted when they found it.

The sight still haunted his dreams. He couldn’t even keep.meals down since he saw it.

-

Mikako peered into her brother’s lab. He hadn’t eaten in quite some time, nor had he slept.

“Yamato…” she whispered hesitantly.

He spun around with a dart ready in his hand. He only lowered it after he registered it was her.

“Mikako, I’ve told you to leave me alone. I need to find a cure, or no one will be safe.” The inventor turned back to his work and threw a crumpled up piece of paper to the side.

“I’m sure someone else is searching for a cure, Yamato. Why not try to make a vaccine? Some sort of immunity would help while someone else finds a cure.” The exorcist suggested.

Her brother didn’t seem to have heard. That, or he was ignoring her.

“Ah… nevermind.” She straightened her back and spun on her heel to hunt down their other classmates.

For the newcomers, Satsuki was putting on a performance– juggling empty bottles and broken gadgets whilst telling jokes. That could not be safe, but Haruhiko seemed to have his eyes on her.

The bunker door heaved open, and Teruya’s team came in, carrying boxes full of food and other supplies.

“We’re back with dinner!” The merchant shouted.

Mikako rushed over to take the box from him.

“Thank you, Otori, this should be good for at least a week. You and your scavenger team did good.”

He grinned at her and handed his box over. “Thanks! We uh…” he hesitated, “We saw Taira and Maeda… err… Utsuro? On our flight back… they looked like they were heading somewhere… dunno where…”

She bit her tongue and nodded thankfully at him. “Thank you for telling me.”

-

Thats it. Im hungry good bye.

Aw yeah infection Au moment! I do remember you saying a while back that you wanted to write something about Rei in this Au and MAN her part has gotta be my favorite out of these little snippets.

I really like taking a look at how a bunch of the cast is doing, seeing the way you wrote them in those situations was pretty fun! It reminded me how much i like the idea of Setsuka's like group with the 6.5 cast and how Kanata probably wishes she has a degree in psychology to properly deal with Ayame and Kizuna (she may feel as if she's not doing enough for them seing as her kindness can only bring her so far when dealing with their turmoil)

[acourtofquestions]

Dont be angry, Finnula said. Be smart.