#the sisters as a whole left a bad taste in my mouth

[bulbtooth]

IM FREE

[ohsc]

Hi! Welcome to the tumblr spn fandom! I wanted to make a request for a sibling!reader, who's about teenager age, meeting Sam and Dean for the first time and finding out that she is their little sibling?

(P.s. love your bots, and I'll be looking forward to your fics on ao3!)

hey lovely, tysm!! i loved the req, hope you’re having a good day <3

(platonic) dean & sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.5k, sfw — requests are open

Sam felt so bad he felt physically sick.

Dean, stood by his side, seemed more angry than worried. He was fuming as they both stood on the front porch, waiting for the door to swing open after he knocked a little too harshly.

“It’s messed up,” Dean grit his teeth, glaring eyes switching between Sam and the door. “How many other kids does he have knocking about, huh?”

It was messed up. Majorly.

When they had found out about Adam, that was bad enough. That their father had a whole other son that he had never told them about, that he secretly went and took to baseball games and bought Christmas presents for. And though it left a sour taste in Sam’s mouth to think of how different John had treated their brother, he was at least happy that he’d had a normal childhood, that he hadn’t been roped into their father’s life, his quest for revenge. But then Adam had ended up in the cage, and it still made Sam feel fucking awful.

But this? This made Sam feel so horrible.

Finding out that they had a sixteen year old sister was honestly like a smack in the face. It meant that she was just a toddler when John had died, and though Sam was glad that she had the chance to live a normal life, it meant she’d never even had the chance to meet her father.

Or her brothers.

Sam had pictured the conversation in his head over and over again on the drive to her house, but he still didn’t know what to say. How was you supposed to tell somebody out of the blue that they had two brothers? How could you drop that onto somebody?

The door handle rattled, and Sam looked up to watch as it was pulled open a few inches, still locked with the chain from the inside, but it was enough space to see the young girl stood there. She was so young that it left a horrible feeling in Sam’s chest for what they had to tell her, what they were there for.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, gentle, so far from what they had expected of John’s daughter. “Can I help you?”

“Hey there,” Dean took the lead, offering a smile through his anger that still burned at the revelation they were facing. “Could you open the door up so we can talk, kid?”

She frowned, “You’re strangers.”

At least she was cautious, that made Sam relieved. It seemed like Dean agreed, as he hesitated before nodded. “Right, yeah we are, good call,” he muttered. “Look, kid-”

“We’re sorry to bother you,” Sam took the lead as soon as he heard the agitation seeping through Dean’s tone, a hand clasping onto his older brother’s shoulder, as if to say I’ve got this. “You’re Y/N, right?” He kept his voice gentle, not wanting to spook the poor girl who already seemed pretty weary.

Her frown only deepened. “How do you know my name?”

Sam offered a small smile, trying to be delicate about it as he asked, “Has your mother ever mentioned somebody called John Winchester?”

The recognition in her eyes was visible almost immediately, the way her expression shifted to accommodate the thought that ran through her mind. She hesitated, and only when Sam had murmured a few soft words of encouragement did she say, “She said John Winchester is my father,” she eyed up both Sam and Dean, her eyebrows scrunched up slightly as she asked, “Who are you? What do you want?”

“We just wanted to talk, um-”

“We’re John Winchester’s sons.” Dean cut in, and the bluntness of the statement made Sam shoot him a nasty glare. Given what had happened the last time they found out they had another sibling — it was fucked up that this wasn’t even the first time it had happened — Sam wanted to do it right. Not practically shove the information down the girl’s throat.

She blinked, took in an audible breath as she glanced between the brothers, before the door shut.

“Nice, Dean,” Sam immediately snapped, turning to glare at him. “Why’d you have to say it like that?”

“You were taking too long-”

The lock rattled and then the door was pulled open fully, and the brothers were silenced as they both turned to look at the girl, who seemed just shocked as she stood there in the doorway, her gaze flickering between the two of them. She eventually found her voice when she asked, “Do you have any ID?”

Sam liked how smart she seemed already, but held his tongue on it as he and Dean got out their only real IDs, and handed them over to her. She looked at them both a little intently, and when her eyes eventually lifted again, any skepticism that had been in her expression before was wiped clean.

“…do you want to come in?”

IDs were handed back, and five minutes later they were all sat in the girl’s living room, Sam shoulder-to-shoulder with Dean on a loveseat, and Y/N perched on the edge of a different sofa in front of them. They hadn’t even been sat there for long, but the entire time she hadn’t stopped fidgeting, her leg jogged up and down, fingers messed with a loose thread on her clothes. And though Dean seemed a little irritated by the uncomfortable silence — by the entire situation, really — Sam just felt for the girl. He couldn’t imagine being her age, and finding out he had two much older brothers who had literally turned up on her doorstep.

Then again, when he was her age, he was more often than not covered in some sort of monster’s blood.

“So, um…” Y/N took a breath, rubbed her palms on her knees, before she exhaled a bit sharply. “I’m sorry, this is really weird, I don’t know what to say. It’s just-”

“I know,” Sam eased, and offered a sympathetic smile. “I know, we’re sorry to just… drop in, drop this on you.”

“We thought you ought to know about us,” Dean added, his voice also came out more gentle than it usually was. “We were just as shocked as you when we found out about you.”

“What about your dad?” She asked, paused, then, “Our… sorry.”

“No, s’okay,” Sam cleared his throat. “He died some years ago, now.” He’d said it so much over the years that he just felt numb as the words came out. One glance at Dean and he knew that his brother felt the same.

“Oh,” her expression dropped, big eyes looking so guilty, “I’m sorry, I didn’t… that’s horrible, I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Dean cut in, waving the girl off. “You didn’t know, it’s alright.”

“Yeah…” she sighed, and took a sip from her glass of water that was sat on the table between them. “My mom said I met him once, when I was a baby he came by. But that was it, she said that he said he was busy with work.”

Sam grit his teeth, and had to glance away for a moment. Jesus, this poor girl. Sam knew how hard it was to grow up with his dad being there sometimes and other times nowhere to be found, but for her to have never even known him? He’d known his sister for all of ten minutes and already he felt almost protective of her.

“He was a mechanic,” Dean told her, offered a small smile. “Me and Sam worked with him until he died.”

“And what do you do now?” She was definitely a curious girl, but Sam couldn’t blame her for wondering about the family she’d just learned that she had.

“Still in the family business,” Dean continued, nodding. “What about you? Still in school?”

Y/N nodded, offered a small smile of her own. “Yeah, I’m a junior.”

“Man, I miss high school,” Dean sighed, leaned back in his seat slightly. “When I was a junior there was this one teacher, Mrs. Bradford, what I would have done to-”

Sam gave him a harsh nudge and earned a glare in return, and quickly muttered, “Shut up, not everyone spends high school skipping class to make out.”

Dean, who had been about to argue back, was cut off by Y/N’s soft laugh, and both brothers turned to face her, see the little smile on her face. “I do skip class sometimes.”

“Ha,” Dean hit his knee against Sam’s. “To do what? Smoke under the bleachers? Steal school supplies?”

“Jesus, Dean-”

“Actually, me and my friends skip to go into town together…”

Sam glanced between his brother and his newly discovered sister, and most of the worry that had been building in his gut earlier that morning had started fading. They still had a lot to even consider — telling her about what they really did, who their dad had been, why they were in town in the first place — but in that moment, starting to chat to her, Sam felt a bit better about it all. Maybe things would go better this time.

He hoped so.

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) pt4

chapter 4: lines were crossed

warnings - none at all

series so far - pt1 pt2 pt3

The Bahrain post-race celebrations were in full swing at the swanky F1 club. Y/N, still riding the high of her P2 finish, sipped on a non-alcoholic drink, surrounded by the jubilant Red Bull team. Max, ever the party animal, was already on the dance floor, his gangly limbs flailing to the thumping music.

Across the room, Lewis nursed a beer, a dark cloud hanging over him. Y/N's talent was undeniable, and her audacious overtake had left a bitter taste in his mouth. He couldn't help but steal glances at her, her laughter echoing amidst the chatter.

Suddenly, Y/N spotted Nico weaving through the crowd. A smile lit up her face. "Hey, Nico! Come meet Lando," she waved him over.

Lewis watched their interaction, tension coiling in his gut. Nico, ever the protective brother, ruffled Y/N's hair. "So, the wonder rookie," he chuckled, turning to Lando. "Looks like you've got some competition on your hands."

Lando grinned. "Always up for a challenge, Mr. Rosberg. But seriously, P2 in your first race? That's legendary!"

Y/N snorted. "Calm down, Lando. It was just luck."

"Luck, talent, and a whole lot of Rosberg grit," Nico winked. A strong whiff of vanilla overwhelmed the air when Lewis walked past. Then, leaning closer to Y/N, Nico added, "Is the motherfucker wearing vanilla cologne? You remember when you said you loved vanilla on men?"

Y/N's eyes widened in amusement. "Oh my god! He really is. He used to smell like vanilla cupcakes all the time. Too bad he's an asshole now."

A jolt of electricity shot through Lewis. The memory slammed into him with the force of a high-speed collision. 2014, pre-championship battles, a time when he and Nico were still friends. A time when he'd harbored a secret crush on Y/N. He'd doused himself in that damn vanilla cologne, hoping to catch her attention.

The image of Y/N snuggling into his chest, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she inhaled the scent, flooded his mind. He'd been so close, so naively hopeful. But then 2015 came, shattering their friendship and burying his feelings under an avalanche of competitive fury.

The past dissolved as he saw Y/N and Lando laughing, their bodies swaying close as they danced. A bitter pang of jealousy twisted in his gut. He couldn't help but notice the way Lando's arm brushed against Y/N's back, sending a fresh wave of irritation through him.

Just then, Lewis's gaze collided with Nico's. Nico's expression was a chilling mix of anger and concern. He strode across the room, his movements purposeful. Stopping in front of Lewis, he lowered his voice, a dangerous edge to it. "You can hate me," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "You can fight me, Lewis, that's old news. But raise a hand on my sister ever again… and I will make your life hell," he trailed off, his eyes blazing.

Lewis's breath hitched. Only then did he truly see the bruise on Y/N's hand, a dark purple blotch against her pale skin. Shame washed over him, hot and unwelcome. His eyes darted between the bruise and Nico's furious face. He knew, with a sickening certainty, that he'd crossed a line.

credits for gif - @lewishamiltongifs

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[pauking5]

Addicting Taste ~ Chapter 1 ~

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: Enishi Yukishiro was on a mission to execute his piece de la resistance. A plan to avenge his beloved sister. Until you showed up, rattling open the icy closed gates of his heart. Will you be a part of his downfall or will you try to save him?

Pairing: Enishi Yukishiro x fem reader oc

Genre: strangers to lovers, sunshine and grumpy, slow burn, a lot of fluff, occasional smut, angst by the bucket

Words: 6.7k +

A/N: I couldn’t hold back anymore and had to make a fic for Enishi. It won’t exactly follow the Rurouni Kenshin timeline for now but it will later develop into it. This is the first chapter in the series with more chapters coming. It is a reader insert as I couldn’t help but indulge myself in it completely. Powered by Mackenyu’s outstanding portrayal of Enishi’s character in Rurouni Kenshin: The Final, I hereby present you a story ripped from the figments of my mind. I hope you’ll love their story as much as I do. Enjoy lovelies, Paula.

Also thank you @eureka-its-zico for supporting me with this and getting me writing again 🫶

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Bonus Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

“Just how stupid are you?”

A loud smack echoed in the room upon connecting with his cheek, heavy rugged palm twisting his face to the side. He clicked his jaw menacingly, facing forward once more with another devilish smirk.

“You thought you could just get away with it?”

Another heavy punch collided with his face, this one making him drop to his knees. He might have been kneeling, completely at the mercy of someone with much more power in command, but this show of authority trying to assert him into submission did absolutely nothing for him.

Lest the displeasure of being Shanghai's commander in chief's unexpected catch of the night. Maybe even the catch of his whole career.

“You’re a fool.”

Heard that one before, he prepared to spit out like burning acid crawled out of his throat.

Just as the rims of his mouth opened to let the words out, he got cut off by an uppercut digging hard under his chin, throwing his body backwards. He tasted iron on his lips. The force of the blow made blood pool in his mouth surprisingly. He didn't think the old man capable of this much damage but as it turns out he had a thing for facial damage. A pleasure Enishi wanted so badly to return.

Spitting it out through clenched teeth at the side, staining the limestone carpet with crimson splotches to redecorate the man's office with a little color. He would've added other shades of red to the whole carpet, rounding it up on each and every shimmering golden seam until everyone in the room contributed. If only his hands were not bound behind his back, constricting most of his movement.

The man standing tall before him left his face full of cuts and bruises. But that was the least of Enishi’s worries right now.

Many months were spent tracking down the biggest shipment of weapons set to leave Shanghai for Kanagawa. Tonight, Enishi’s men were supposed to rob the storage by the docks completely dry before the ship set sail in the morning with empty cargo. But it turned out to be a harder task than it was intended to be.

He couldn't tell where it all went wrong.

Was it just bad luck? That would've been a first under the remarkable security he had around the area.

Was it a tip-off from the inside? Highly unlikely. If that was the case, he would've smelled the motherfucker who chirped before they even thought it possible to cross him.

Whatever it was, changed the course of the whole plan, rendering it nothing short of a total fail.

That fail was also what led to his current position - with his hands tied roughly behind his back, bloody with his patience running thinner with each breath, lying on the floor of the most secure precinct in Shanghai.

A few hours ago

“These dumplings are amazing,” you sighed happily, munching on three baozi dumplings at once.

The lady vendor grimaced at you. Well, less at you and more at your clear lack of manners since you were practically inhaling the soft dough before it even landed in the palm of your hands like a famished grizzly bear.

Leftover crumbs decorated the edges of your lips as you chomped down on the dumplings. You forgot all about etiquette when the food literally melted in your mouth. Heaven was definitely found in food and not in the afterlife and these little desserts were the very proof of it. Your stomach also agreed with that claim every time your mouth touched dumplings in any shape, form or filling.

Who could resist those plump, freshly made babies?

Not me. Ya'll stay safe though.

A little boy walked by with his mother when he caught sight of the dumpling cart. He ran to the cart gluing his face to the glass to watch the lady work the next batch. His breaths fogged up the glass as he gaped at the steaming dumplings in awe and adoration. But when he turned his head and saw the way you were devouring the small pastry like a goblin from the woods his face turned to pure disgust.

What do you want child, you muttered, cheeks filled with the new cherry filling you were trying out. He said nothing, continuing to stare you down as if you had some unresolved business with him.

You were getting annoyed by his staring, so you shot the little boy a slightly threatening look in hopes he would turn back to watch the magic dough rather than try to make enemies with you. Instead he started crying, running off in the direction he came from. You watched until he got tinier and tinier, disappearing somewhere in the depths of the street.

His mother watched the whole exchange from behind you. Upon meeting her burning gaze, she regarded you with a condescending look then followed after her child.

You turned back to your dumplings, chewing slowly in guilt. It wasn't your fault children had the temperament of the unpredictable weather forecast. The vendor lady did not seem to share your opinion, pinning you with an icy authoritative glare typical of her generation. The one that usually scared off the youngsters.

“Can you leave before you scare all my clients away?” she said, irritated with the fact that you’ve been hogging her cart for the past half an hour and you didn't look like you would be leaving anytime soon.

“Listen lady, I am your only client. Plus, I could buy your whole cart if I wanted to. Just let me enjoy these,” you said with your mouth full, reaching for another bag of dumplings on sale. She smacked your hand away, looking down at the bags you were already holding safely on your chest.

“I’ll be the one leaving then," she hissed as she started to put away the steaming buns away and gathered all her tools, folding the cart faster than you could catch up to her. "You might spoil my dough from raising if I stay here any longer,”

“Wait! You can’t just leave -"

By the time you yelled after trying to stop her from leaving with the heaven-sent goodies, she was already gone. Old ladies really are a different breed these days, you thought. Cooking, knitting and chit-chatting were activities that seemingly didn't provide them with enough soul sucking out of people to their heart's content.

Anywho, there went your only meal for the day. At least it was a nice filling one to last you some time and kick in some energy your body desperately needed. You looked down at your stomach with a sigh, patting in a comforting manner before you turned to go on your own way.

The crisp air of mid-October made its presence felt as an icy gust blew against the sleeves of your cotton dress making the material flutter and fill you up with cold air. Your attire was nothing short of inappropriate for the lingering cold season, but the leather bits, like the corset laced up over your chest or the pants under it, kept a fraction of warmth with you.

The chilly weather made it harder to do any jobs, take out hitlist services not requested as much in this period of time. Rage requests usually came with the hot scorching summer rather than the fall of the first autumnal fog. That meant you never knew where your next meal would be coming from most of the time, so you powered through with anything you could find. Though your money was slowly running on empty, you always made sure to keep some aside for your delicacy cravings.

Only mad people walked the streets of Shanghai, the city of all things food confectionery, without indulging in at least one treat from the vendors. Broke or not, you emptied your pockets here on good measure.

There was a downside to all good things in life.

The once bustling street, buzzing with chatter and sizzling pans where savory and sweet scents danced in the air, turned awfully quiet with nightfall. It was the norm in this part of the city. Vendors were quickly packed away and activity was slowly coming to a halt in the wake of the coming night. Any normal person in these parts would know that being on the streets when the last flicker of daylight disappears wasn’t safe in the slightest.

Who would want to be out in the dark with the Shanghai mafia having a full blown war with the commander in chief on the streets until the early hours of dawn? Definitely no one in all faculties of the mind or at least some.

Clutching the rest of your dumplings closer, you made your way down the narrow pathways circling the outskirts of the city. As you padded the cobblestone road, windows hatched closed, doors shut and all light dimmed to ward off danger. The people of Shanghai lived in fear of this war every night. You did too. But at least you had weapons and could defend yourself in case of anything.

The place you resided in for the time being was just a hop down from the city docks. It was a modest room at the top of an abandoned jewelry shop, furnished with a desk, a small wardrobe, and a corner to store the little belongings you carried around. It was not the comfiest nor the safest place in the world, but it provided a space to roll your futon for the night and that was as good as anything.

The bags in your hands shuffled with each step you took. You cast a look at the buns, the delicious smell still wafting up to your nose even as they were covered and tucked inside the paper. On impulse, you bought a bunch of different flavors with all kinds of fillings you haven’t tried before. Just thinking of taste testing all of them made your mouth water and your step quicken with happy strides.

Whilst getting lost in your pastry daydreams, you were shaken back to earth by persistent yelling. As you were making your way further down to the docks, more agitated shouting ensued and the quick pace of your walk slowed down. You were far away from the entrance, unable to really see anything, but the growing commotion piqued your curiosity.

It wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look, right? It's in the way anyway, you shrugged.

Inching closer to the side of the docks entrance, you hid behind an abandoned fishing boat perched up on empty fishing crates. They might've been rusty from being left outside for god knows how long but they still smelled like few days old catch that went off. Ignoring the horrendous smell and tucking your petite form well enough so you wouldn’t be spotted, you looked over the edge of the boat to see what was going on.

Moving your eyes around you counted about twenty masked men, all dressed in black with swords attached to the hip. Mercenaries. You didn't need to see more than the blades and their eyes to be able to tell they were possibly wanted people.

Most of them were frantically rushing in and out of the biggest storage on the other side, holding cases filled with… guns?

As more of them came out you realized it wasn’t just guns - there was long and short range artillery, fuses, even more blades and all kinds of artisanal bombs. It looked like the place to be for pyromaniacs and sadists. Depending on which category took your fancy, there was something for every sin you wanted to commit, from arson all the way to testing out painful killing methods.

Whatever these guys were planning was nothing short of mass destruction.

“We’ve secured all the weapons, Master,” a shushed voice spoke in Japanese from your right. He came closer, standing right in front of the boat you were using as a hiding spot.

He looked about half a person in height. If a wild gust of wind blew his way he would most likely topple over and become dust. Besides that, what caught your attention was the unsure nature of his Japanese accent. He definitely wasn't Japanese but whoever he talked to just now was because they replied in a grave pronounced tone, one hundred percent of Edo origin.

“Good work,” said a deeper voice from the left as he approached too. The way he spoke those simple words was enough to make tremors run down your spine in sheer thrill.

Weird, you shook them off trying to get a better view of the owner of the voice. A curly, tangled mop of white hair entered your vision. The roots were darker than the silvery ends shimmering in the pale blue moonlight.

Damn, this guy was long overdue for a haircut. And a hair dye session. Who was this gramps?

Trailing your eyes further down you took in his sturdy physique that was outlined through the clothes he was wearing. Wait. This is no gramps body. You could tell he was trained in some kind of martial arts. No one just walked around with heaps of muscles like those. You could easily draw a map of the world between those wide shoulders if you focused hard enough on just what lay beneath those tight, crunched up cotton creases- Snap out of it, Miyu.

The loud crash of crates rattling to the floor brought you back to reality. You weren't supposed to be there, eavesdropping and peeking like a spy when these people could probably cut you to pieces in one breath.

I need to get out of here ASAP.

You couldn’t risk getting caught and brought in by the commander in chief. If he wasn’t alerted yet he sure got wind of things by now. That man definitely has mutant senses. You didn't need to get caught by this mafia either because from the looks of it they definitely were part of one.

The last thing you needed was them catching wind of your location. You've spent so long staying under the radar and now was not the time to advertise your whereabouts like you were the main specialty on sale in the morning newspaper.

I am void. I don’t care. I haven’t seen anything.

I am not getting involved with this.

Repeating that mantra several times in your head in order to calm down, you had to figure out a way to sneak out as smoothly as possible without alerting anybody. Not even a fly and especially not the strong muscular white mop of hair who hasn’t moved at all from his spot right in front of you. He was probably one of those people gifted with extended field of vision that could see the world in one side to side look like a bird, so any move or choked breath of yours would fall on his alarm sensors instantly.

After a quick scan of your surroundings, you came to two viable options that would help you avoid getting skewered: going left, straight through the docks and to your hideout located just on the other side; or going right, having to circle around the whole city to get back.

It wasn’t hard to figure out which one was safer. You’d rather go around the whole city as many times as you needed if it meant staying away from whatever they had planned. You just had to wait for the right time to make your way out.

Any minute now...

The two continued supervising the undercover operation, not once moving away. Not even one accidental turn of their heads somewhere else.

More like any day...

If you didn't know any better, you'd think they picked up on your scent and were just waiting for you to breathe through the wrong nostril before they jumped you. The singular possibility of that drenched your spine with cold drops of nervous sweat. You've done the stake out thing a million times before, but this one was somehow so different - gut twisting in churns and knots like you took a hit of deja vu different. Like disaster waited patiently at those rusty gates to catch and cradle you sweet like a lover from the very moment your eyes first laid on the docks tonight.

After an agonizing long while, the two men blocking your view finally moved, heading towards the rest of their squad on the other side of the docks. That was your chance. All you had to do was get set, lift your ass from the floor and sprint the hell out of there before someone caught you and made you fish food.

If only things would play out like that but they rarely do for normal people.

Raising to half your height, trying to keep cover behind the boat, you turned to the right. In your rush to escape, you missed a teeny tiny key detail that was in your way to freedom - a dark brown fishing cord extending from the boat to the other pile of empty crates behind you.

You didn't see it in the darkened confined space around you and if you did, you took notice of it too late, barely making it two steps before your leg tangled in it and you were falling face first to the hard concrete floor, taking the crates behind with you. Disaster caught up to you, smiling sickly at your futile attempt to escape so easily.

The steaming buns you tried so hard to keep close spilled all over the ground in the process. That was the least of your worries. What should've worried you was that you just made the loudest sounds known to man that were probably heard under the sea. The clangs from the metal cages rattling on top of each other before crashing to the ground with a thud, rolling into other piles like rumbling waves of a raging sea, echoing deafeningly in your ears.

Once they stopped, the loud screeching of the crates was replaced by the loud beating of your heart with the realization that your body was halfway exposed to the other side of the docks. In full view for anyone to snap your details. The danger alarm rang multiple times in your head but your body just refused to move.

There was nowhere for you to run without getting caught now.

I’m. so. fucked.

“What was that?” growled one of the masked goons on the other side.

Mophead stopped in his tracks, muscles in his back contracting with impending doom. He turned around swiftly, faster than a wild feline, locking eyes on you. Lifting your own gaze from your uncomfortable spot on the floor, you connected it with his. You choked on a breath caught halfway in your throat before it could reach your lungs.

Dark black eyes akin to predators that lurk in the dead of night pierced yours. They screamed murder. The ‘chop you apart for funsies’ kind of murder, in a silent, more maniacal and lethal manner than serial killers normally sported.

But something about those eyes caught you off guard. He was just a few feet away. Close enough to reach for you and squeeze the life out of you. Close enough to catch the blue hue outlining his pupils. Something about those eyes, though eerie and downright terrifying, awaking every urge to take off to safety, was so oddly familiar that it froze you in place.

Where have I seen these eyes before?

He seemed to be stuck in his own reverie, fixed on your own for a good while. A tilt of his head could only signal his confusion to your presence. Or was it recognition? It could be both.

You don’t even know how long you were both stuck soul searching each other until the roaring sound of gunfire descended down on the docks.

Breaking your staring contest apart, you frantically craned your head behind trying to locate where the firing came from. Then it dawned on you.

The commander in chief is here. Knowing him, he was just waiting for his cue to shine like the superstar pawn of the government he is.

Mophead set off in your direction, most likely to grab you, but he only managed to take a step before bullets lined up a few feet in front of him. With a low grunt, he spared you one last deadly stare marking you as a new enemy to his possibly extended list before retreating back to his gang.

The bullets flew closer and closer to your spot and the intense smell of gun powder filled your nostrils. This was your cue to exit stage. In any direction at this point.

You got to your feet in seconds, saving what was left of your steamed dumplings and made a run for it. A few bullets narrowly grazed the low ends of your dress but you quickly made it to the safety of a dark alleyway close by.

Checking on your precious dumplings in the crumpled paper bags, you saw most of them were unharmed and let out a breath of relief. Then you cursed yourself for leaving your weapons on your neatly folded futon the one time you could actually make use of them.

The blaring gunshots halted all of a sudden. The docks were quiet again. Way too quiet. Strange. Did they run out of ammo this fast? I thought the police got endless resources in that field. Nevermind that, the mob had thousands of them at hand, itching for a little assembling and bullets. A showdown between a gang and the authorities couldn't have just ended this fast. Something felt off.

You made sure the shadow of the brick wall covered you whole before peering over to the docks from the corner of the alley. Assessing the situation, you noticed that half of mophead’s party was shot down by the commander’s force. Blood was everywhere, splattered on the cement from the entrance as far as you could see. Possibly all the way to the other end of the pier. Big and burly bodies that were swarming the warehouse and executing orders just moments ago, now laid lifeless next to and on top of some of the crates filled with weapons. Some of them managed to flee the scene when the firing started, abandoning ship cowardly. The rest of them that were still alive and kicking were captured and put in restraints to be taken into custody, together with their leader who must have been a ticking bomb of rage on the inside by now.

The more you looked at it, you didn't take him for someone that would get caught so easily. He gave the impression of the superior kind of thug. The type that calculates and plans until all doubts, variables and collaterals were executed off the table.

Something didn't add up.

What is really peculiar was that this part of the harbor was not even on the open side, clearly to make the storing of arm supplies as reclusive as possible. But anyone who wanted a hit and run, quick and fast, could flee the scene absolutely undetected under the safety of nightfall. The only way you could get caught was if someone chirped like a hummingbird, loud and close to the commander's ear. You nearly giggled at the possibility until you took another look down at the pier and all amusement in you dissipated.

Maybe it was the smug look on the commander’s face as his men rounded up the thugs. Or the way most of his force came out from what looked like stationed places at the other end of the docks entrance. Even the sure nods the officers shared as they shoved the last of the goons to their knees behind their leader.

It almost seemed like they knew mophead and his crew were going to be here tonight, set on stealing the armament.

No way.

Was this a set up?

Back at the precinct

Enishi was fuming.

Things went sideways too quickly for his liking tonight. The only feasible explanation was that someone talked and he was going to make sure they weren’t seeing the light of day under his watch. Once he made it out of the shithole he was currently held in that was. Which seemed to be somewhere in the far future.

The old man ceased his relentless show of authority punches, changing the plate for questioning, trying to intimidate Enishi. Too bad. Having the man breathe opium smoke in his face did not phase him at all.

“I’m going to ask again," sneered the commander, puffing up his chest with another intake of the drug. "Why were you stealing weapons?”

His patience was running thin, beyond irritation, showing in the way the veins on his neck strained. But he could press on as much as he wanted. Enishi wasn’t going to give him shit.

“Either you talk or your good for nothing squad will suffer in your place.”

He really thought he did something with that line. Those men were disposable. The real ones waited back at the base. He wasn't mad to deploy them for a mission that was supposed to be easy. But this was probably the last time he employed outside resources for a mission.

“I don’t give two flying fucks about them,” spat Enishi. He hoped some of the drops of blood flew to land on the commander's face.

That geature only earned him another punch, this time deep to the stomach. The guards who were holding him let him drop to the floor, more blood dripping on the side of his mouth.

The commander handed his pipe to one of the officers, discarding his coat on a chair before letting his fingers work to roll the sleeves of his shirt up. He moved around his golden desk furniture with the grace of an old dragon, aware of the ways of the world. That was what he wanted his assailants to believe. Truth be told, he was nothing but a puppet for the higher ups.

“I guess I’ll have to beat it out of you then,” said the commander, cracking his knuckles.

Bracing for the commander’s punishment, his thoughts wandered somewhere else. Not to the mission. Not to the missing weapons. Not to his men. But to the girl who was there tonight, hiding behind the boat.

He wasn’t stupid. He sensed someone was eavesdropping from somewhere. It just wasn't in his benefit to do something about it when they weren't showing up to lay claim to the weapons or to stop him from taking them.

But you weren’t supposed to be there. You were a variable in his plan that he couldn’t have predicted. A wildcard? A hidden weapon he could've used? He didn't know. Where a handful of questions swarmed around in his head, three of them stood out the most, distracting him from the incoming hit to his side.

Why were you there tonight?

Who were you working for?

And where have I seen you before?

Ten armed guards at the front of the building. Another two securing the entrance from the inside. Five more moving around the halls. None on the top floor.

Bingo.

Sliding open the glass window on the roof of the precinct, you snuck in quietly. You landed down swiftly, arching your heels like a cat to keep you steady. Stealth mode switched on in your head as you carefully inspected your surroundings.

The top floor is clear.

Tightening the grip on your twin Remingtons, you straightened and advanced to the walls on your right, opposite to the railing on the other side overlooking the secured entrance. No one seemed to be on this level at all.

As you rounded the corners, you spotted a staircase going down to what looked like a meeting hall.

Angry shouting and what resembled the sound of slapping got louder the more steps you descended. Someone was either receiving a beating or they were just into kinky shit.

You were on the last three steps when a guard's boots fell in step close by. Aligning yourself with the wall, you became one with the shadows. You held your breath, keeping your heartbeat under control as well as any other signs that could get you spotted. On the inhale, he walked by. On the exhale, he continued on his path. As he got further away, you tilted your head towards the glass ceiling and released the breath you were holding.

This was a terrible idea.

What were you even doing here in the first place? This was not your fight.

But your conscience convinced you that you were somehow responsible for the unsuccessful outcome of mophead’s mission. Call it remorseful helping.

You weren’t supposed to be there tonight. It was just incidental. Your stupid craving for dumplings made you come out of your extremely comfortable refuge and one thing led to another and you found yourself in the middle of the crossfire. The very thing you hoped to avoid at all costs.

Without thinking too much of your bad choices for the day, you geared up to save mophead. You didn’t know why you were going this far for someone you didn’t know. But you felt needed for once in a while and like you finally had a job to do. That and the fact that the betrayal under his command hit a little too close to home.

There was something else that bothered you about your encounter with him. The moment he locked eyes with you was branded into your head like a burn wound. Your brain replayed it over and over again for no specific reason until it drove you crazy.

Those eyes bugged you to the world’s end. There was something so addicting and familiar to them. But you couldn’t recall where you’ve seen them before no matter how hard you tried.

You needed to find out who this man is. So, like any normal person looking for answers, you went to ask him. Well, you will ask him. As soon as you busted him out of the most secure precinct in Shanghai.

In the meeting hall

“This would be so much easier if you just talked,” yelled the commander in chief.

“How about… fuck you. Good talk,” said Enishi with a sick grin.

“You son of a—,” the commander was cut off by the sound of shots being fired outside the meeting hall. Grunting and yelling ensued for a good minute until everything turned quiet. Everyone’s ears perked up listening for what could follow.

A powerful kick thundered against the golden door to the hall, making it come off its hinges and cave in on itself. The bolts creaked, splintering on the sides and the door fell with a loud thud. You stepped over it, the click of your heeled boots bouncing off the echo in the room.

All eyes were trained on you.

“Who’s ready to have some fun?” you chirped, enthusiastically twirling the guns in your hands. They landed perfectly in your hold and you cocked them right at the men in the middle of the room.

“Who are you?,” asked the commander in chief.

“Let’s just say I’m someone you don’t want to mess with,” you said confidently.

“You’re just a stupid girl if you think you can just come in here —“

“This stupid girl just took out most of your guards on duty. It will be her utmost pleasure to take you out too,” you said with a smirk.

Enishi was watching the exchange, his head swimming with confusion for the second time tonight.

Just who exactly were you? And why were you crossing paths again? Also, were you insane to just waltz in the commander in chief's lair like that?

You first show up as a hindrance to his plan and now you’re here to probably mess up more than you already have. He was also kind of blaming you for the situation he was in at the moment. You weren't of any help in his eyes.

At least you proved useful in distracting the guards and the commander so he could work on getting his hands free of the rope tugging at his wrists. Okay, maybe you were useful.

Looking over at mophead, you noticed he freed himself. You haven’t worked in a team in so long so you threw him a look asking for guidance on what to do now. What he saw however, was more of a weird face that kind of creeped him out, but he quickly caught onto what you meant.

He wasn’t sure whether to trust you. But he didn’t have the luxury to audition for partners right now. So, sending a silent nod your way, you let the fun begin.

Mophead lunged for the commander in chief while you preoccupied yourself with the five guards in the room. You easily took out the first one by the couch at the side. Pointing your gun to the next one, you pulled the trigger but nothing happened. You tried the other gun receiving the same vacant response. You were left without bullets having emptied most of them on the guards outside.

Strapping the guns back to your belt, you took a fighting stance and beckoned the officers to you.

Hand to hand combat it is.

The closest guard lunged at you and your fist connected with his nose. A loud crack echoed upon contact, blood seeping through his hands as he cradled his nose.

“You bitch—,” you cut him off by hooking your leg to the back of his neck, dragging him to the floor.

“Did your mother not teach you how to speak to a lady?”

He got back up and got ready to throw another snarky remark but you wasted no time in shutting him up with a nearby chair. The wood broke to pieces as it made contact with him, knocking him out cold. Once he fell to the floor, you directed your attention at the other three guards that started circling you from different sides. Showtime.

You let them come at you. The taller one came first, swinging a baton at your head. Ducking successfully to avoid having your head turned into a baseball, you went for a roundhouse kick to his head. He got projected to the other side from the force you put into the move.

The last two attacked you at the same time. One of them had a knife that managed to get a few cuts through the sleeves of your dress as he kept swinging at you recklessly. He wasn't even looking where he sent his blade. He probably just hoped they got you. If this was the training they got the armed forces were doomed.

You huffed disappointedly as you lifted a slashed piece to check the damage. “I just got this one."

Getting annoyed with his incessant flailing about, you caught his hand just as a slightly smaller in stature officer came from behind you. Kicking back your right leg into the stomach of the one behind, you got a chance to take the knife, throwing it away and out of his reach. You turned and elbowed the knife wielder in the stomach, directing another knee at his ribcage letting him fall flat to the floor.

One more to go.

Standing face to face with your last enemy, you spared mophead a quick look. He was struggling with the commander as he pushed him face down on the big wooden desk. He quickly turned the power around and got him into a deadly chokehold instead.

You didn’t even notice his outerwear was discarded and he was left only in a tank top. His huge biceps flexed dangerously as he tightened his hold on the commander’s neck, pushing into him with all his strength. Sweat was piling like rain drops down his arms and you found yourself drooling. Maybe you digged the whole white mop of hair look.

You were snapped out of your fantasies by the small garden goblin running towards you with a spiked staff. Where the fuck did he get that from?

Do these guys not have one normal weapon on them? Where do they get all this ridiculous stuff from?

You dodged his attacks and his futile attempts at trying to spear you like Dracula, until he got tired and his swings turned sloppy. Finding an opening way too easily, you caught the end of the staff with your right hand and turned your left into an uppercut diving it under his chin. The impact of your hit had him landing in a star shape on the floor. His eyes rolled around unable to focus like birds chirped around his head.

Just as you were finished with him, mophead finally squeezed the living daylights out of the commander and let him fall splat to the floor. He wasn't dead. Just out of service for the day.

Sensing the ruckus in the hall, the rest of the guards from outside started piling up into the hall. You both walked towards each other until you were back to back. In other circumstances you would’ve loved the way your heavy breaths mingled and the way your shoulders shyly grazed each other. But now was not the time to crush on your new partner.

“Any chance you have a plan to get us out of here?” asked mophead. Guards surrounded you from all sides, covering all exit points. The only way to escape was to fight your way out.

“I’m guessing breaking some more necks wouldn’t hurt,” you replied hastily.

“You take the ones on the right. I take the ones on the left,” he directed.

With another nod, you both got into position and waited as the guards descended upon you.

A storm of fists came your way. You tried blocking them as much as you could but five to one was too much to handle without a weapon. Mophead noticed your struggle and tried to get rid of the three baton swingers in front of him. With a low sweep kick to their ankles they all fell over at once, hitting each other with the bats they were holding.

You were holding onto three bats with all your might, pushing your arm muscles to greater strength than they were capable of. Two guards sneaked behind you, ready to deliver a dangerous blow. Enishi intercepted them before they could carry out their plan, catching their arms mid swing and twisting their arms to inhuman angles.

“Don’t you know it’s bad manners to hit a lady, especially from behind?” he said, towering over them, pushing them to their knees as they writhed in pain.

You finally managed to throw the three men backwards, taking to delivering a kick to each of them. By the time you were done with them you were breathing heavily. You were a good fighter, but your stamina was always holding you back. Mophead seemed to be more trained in that field though as you saw him cutting through the lines of guards with ease, taking down two or three at the time. And he was injured.

Five more guards circled both of you.

“Give me a hand,” you said as you ran towards mophead.

He sensed your idea right away. Latching your hand with his, you created enough momentum for him to pull you around in a circle to kick down all of the guards. Once you got both feet back on the ground looking for your next victims, you noticed the secure hand sitting idly on your waist.

Looking up at him, you saw he’s about a head taller than you. He was scanning the room too. Feeling you tense in his hold, he quickly dropped his hand from your waist and trained his gaze on the broken down door.

“We have to go before more of them come.”

“What about your crew? Are you just going to leave them here?”

“They can get out just fine by themselves,” he growled, annoyed and pissed enough to think of those fuckers too.

And with that he grabbed your hand and you made a run for it, stepping over the bodies of the commander's regiment, falling out into the precinct.

Next

Thank you for reading! Comments, notes and reblogs are always welcome :)

[rafedaddy01]

I got you something

Pairing: reader x Rafe

Summary- you gift Rafe something that leads to an interesting night

Warnings- this is just down right bad (caution when reading) 🤭

Notes- this was a request for this link: ;) reader gifts Rafe this and it obviously leads to smut and then reader tries to put the pieces back so that Rafes sisters don’t know how naughty they’ve been

P.s., I love when you guys interact with my writings so please, reblog, comment, and send in requests

Masterlist

“I got you something” y/n says. “Oh?” Rafe questions lifting one brow curiously.

“Turn around” she tells him twirling her finger. He obeyed, with a sigh. Always so sassy.

She brought the cake she had got Rafe that read ‘Let me ride your face’ in white chocolate letters.

“Turn around” she squealed excitedly. He turned around and eyes dropped down to the chocolate delight. His body vibrating with laughter as he read it. “Oh baby, all you had to do was ask”

He grabbed the cake from her and placed it on the counter.

Redirecting his attention to her he stalked up to her and picked her up like she weighed nothing. He tossed her over his shoulder as he raced upstairs. Her giggles echoing in the empty house.

He put her down and tore his shirt off, sprawling out on the bed and calling her over.

“Come ride my face baby, my tongue is itching to taste you.” His voice husky. She slowly stripped down as she walked to the bed.

She climbed atop and positioned herself, flipping towards to faces his body as her lower half hovered his beautiful face.

With a grunt he pulled her thighs and lowered her to his lips. A small yelp exiting her throat at the harsh action, which quickly turned into a moan as his tongue dipped into her wetness. He squeezed her thighs.

“Fuck” a low curse left her lips as she grinded her hips.

His hands snaked up to her breasts, massing them and twisting the nipple.

“Shit, rafe” she groaned, causing rafe to hum in agreement. Sending vibrations through her body. Her hands coming down to his chest, holding her up.

He sucks on her bud and she goes crazy.

She sighs in satisfaction as she starts riding his tongue.

Her whole body lights up with the familiar feeling of an orgasm approaching.

“Oh shit rafe, I’m cumming” he grips her thighs tighter as his tongue devours her. Her whole body shakes as her orgasm washes over her. Rafes movements don’t slow. Instead speeding up and entering her to suck up her delicious juices.

Her body slumps as she takes in the glory of a post orgasm. Rafe taps her legs to indicate he can’t breath.

Not that he’d complain, it’s be one hell of a way to go out.

She gasps and gets off, “I’m sorry baby” she says. “Don’t be” he props himself up and kisses her lips. She moans at the taste of herself, ready for round 2.

“Now..” he starts. “Let’s go eat that cake?” He says like a child. She laughs as Rafe hands her, her clothes and he too puts his shirt back on.

They walk down to the kitchen, hand in hand. Rafe gets them each a fork and they dig in. Tasting the chocolaty deliciousness and moaning at the flavor melting on their tongue.

As they eat about half the cake, not touching the letters, y/n gets an idea.

“I think I owe you a thank you” she smirks.

Her eyes darting to the still visible hard on Rafe has. She gets to her knees, appreciative that Rafes family won’t be home till later tonight, she unzips his jeans and frees his cock.

Her finger dipping into the bit of chocolate frosting.

Her eyes meet Rafes as she spreads some onto the his cock. He groans as he watched her. Her eyes never leaving his, her tongue darts out and licks.

Her mouth covers the tip and starts bobbing, she didn’t apply to much chocolate not wanting to make a big mess.

She moans at the taste of the sweetness of the chocolate and the saltiness of Rafes pre cum mixed together. Her moans vibrating around his cock and making him jerk.

She grabs his hand and placed them on her head. He gets the message and smirks, so happy he has such a obedient little slut. He grips her hair and she stops her bobbing. He starts thrusting into her mouth, fucking her face until her makeup smears and her tears stain her cheeks, he loved seeing her like this. Fucked out and on her knees for him and only him.

“Fuck y/n. Your throats so tight” he groans out. She moans in agreement, his cock twitching in her mouth from the vibrations she sends. He brings his thumb to her cheeks and wipes the tears.

“So pretty baby girl” he says in a low husky voice. Y/n pussy clenching around nothing at his praise. “So good for me, baby girl” he groans as he thrusts.

“Oh shit” Rafe says throwing his head back. Her heart fills with joy to see what she does to him.

His grip on her hair becomes tighter and she moans once more, that sends him into a spiral. His balls clench as his cum shoots in the back of her throat.

He pulls out and few more spurts splash across her face. His head comes down and groans when he sees the mess he left on her.

She wipes it off her face and brings it to her lips.

“Fuck” he growls.

“Come here” he murmurs as he swings her up, turning her around and pressing her into the counter.

Her pulls her dress up and her panties down.

She whimpers as he brings his cock to her soaking slit, running it up and down.

He finally pushes in and bottoms out with one move. “Fuck, rafe” she says through clenched teeth.

He starts pulling out and slams back in, hitting her g-spot instantly.

The kitchen fills with growls, groans, grunts, moans, curses, and skin slapping. If anyone were to walk in right now it would be a whole porno. The sounds coming out of their mouths was wild and the position he had her in was quite impressive.

Her stomach on the counter. Legs wide and in a butterfly formation, and pulled to the edge.

Her hands were gripped by one of his behind her back, the other tugging her head back by her hair and he was pounding into her at a relentless speed. He was inside her so deep, practically in her guts.

“Oh fuck, baby girl. You look so sexy bent at my will like this” he growls out like an animal. All she can manage out is a moan. He smirks liking the way he has her fucked out of her pretty little mind.

Her walls flutter beautifully around his cock, sucking him in deeper if even humanly possible. The counter filled with her juices. He lets go of her hair and brings his hand around to her front, grabbing her throat and slightly squeezing.

She automatically clamps down on him making him groan out and throw his head back, eyes shutting.

“Fuck fuck fuck” he groans as he pulls out and cums on her back. This was gonna be a bitch to clean. The counter, the floor, themselves..

He pulls back from her, breathing heavily. Her face falls against the cool counter and catches her own breath.

Once their able to breath again he helps her off the counter until she can stand on her wobbly legs. “Fuck cameron, I think you almost killed me. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had” she laughs out in a breath. He chuckles as he pulls her naked body to his, taking in the smell of sex radiating off her. He kissed the top of her head before pulling back.

“We need a shower” she says scrunching up her nose.

A devilish smirk appearing on his face. “Don’t even think about it, I’m wiped” she sternly says. But Rafe always gets his way.

Before Rafe can scoop her up she darts from his muscular arms reaching for her.

“Wait!” She shouts.

He groans. “What?” His disappointed face frowning. All he wants to do is take his baby girl and shower.

She walks over to the cake, he watched as she rearranges the letters. “What are you doing?” He laughs as he walks up and pears over her shoulder. “Your sisters will come home and want some” her concentration falling back to the cake.

“Im trying to make it say ‘I love you’”

“Damn it” she says frustrated at the clear failed attempt.

“There’s no V” she cried out. he Steals the cake from her and grabs it from her.

“What are you doing?” She asks. “Let’s go shower, and then we’ll eat this cake before cuddling in bed” he says, landing a smile to her face. She nods and follows him up the stairs.

“No funny business! I mean it” she poked his chest.

“No promises, baby girl” he jokes as he turns the water on and placed her since the shower. Coming in after her. “Rafe!” She slaps his shoulder as she watches his cock harden again. “Can’t help it baby girl, your just so sexy”

She throws her head back in laughter. Coming back he leans in for a kiss. Totally dissolving any and every thought from her mind.

She leans into the kiss and it gets hot and heavy fast. His kisses end up on her neck.

And eventually his cock ends up in her cunt. Where it rightfully belongs. Hitting her third orgasm for the day.

@v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings

[anzynai]

Oh my gosh im so excited to see a twst writer in the community!! Can u please share some heartslabyul headcanons (no pressure if u dont want to) i just love them so much thank you!

Heartslabyul Hcs

HELLOOO this has been sitting in my ask box for ages and i am so sorry for dying and not posting for a whole month.. erm. anyway, headcanons. unfortunately no new fic im sorry but uh soon!!! its heartslabyul tho soo enjoy!!

——

since riddle was never exposed to tickling when he was a child, he was always curious about what it felt like. like, he’s read about it, heard about it, etc, but just couldn’t imagine HOW it could make someone laugh. afterall, it sounds so absurd. which makes total sense.

it wasn’t until he started hanging out with chenya and trey that he finally learned what it was like. chenya had been the one to poke him in the side first. riddle had jumped, sputtered, giggled, and jsut reaxted like how any ticklish person would and riddle was like,, what was that?? chenya had simply told him he was curious and trey was like “oh, youre ticklish, huh?” and suddenly it made SO MUCH sense. THATS what tickling was like, and now that he had a taste of it, he was curious about more. being actually tickled and tickling someone. thankfully, being friends witb the two, he did in fact experience those

when he arrived at nrc, it didnt happen as much but trey seemed to notice that riddle didnt exactly hate tickling. as he got older he tried to hide it, but he didnt hate iy. maybe wasnt as interested as when he was younger, but it was more neutral. trey would like to poke him to get his attention and such.

trey is ticklish but maybe would prefer to be tbe ler, or at least let it be equal. he’s like, teh nonchalant tickler HELPP so like, usually won’t go very far, not more than a poke to tbe side or something small like that, but well, he still does it to like most of heartslabyul and his friends outside of heartslabyul, but is like totally casual abt it so sometimes ppl wonder if they should even bring it up

when they do, “i only wanted to get your attention.” hey trey! calling their name works just as well btw!! no but sometimes he does it just because he feels like it. always the same excuse too😭

cater is pretty ticklish. he has a love-hate relationship of it. i thjnk he enjoys tickling people, but doesnt do it much because HE doesnt particularly ENJOY getting tickled and he doesnt want them to like, retaliate. he doesnt hate it but his sisters loved tickling hjm when he was younger so it kinda left a bad taste in his mouth. basically, he usually will only have a good time if its someone he knows well and is comfortable with and he knows theh wont push him to the brink. he doesnt like to laugh uncontrollably i feel like. eitherway, he def tickles others the same exact way bc he doesnt want them to feel the same way he does about it.

he doesnt mind gentle tickles at all, but again, ws long as he’s with the right people. i feel like with a partner, he would actyally really love tickles while they r cuddling. super cute, yes.

deuce didnt get tickled a lot, at least not until he entered nrc. never really had any feelinfs towards it. he hated it when he was younger, became more neutral about it when he grew up. he would definitely defend someone if they thought it was embarrassing. “everyones ticklish! nothing to be ashamed of!”

this actually leads to him getting tickled about half the time😭😭 because everyone loves to tickle the first year students (i would too). super embarrassed? yes. super awkward? yes. hates it? nope!! prob would be blushing and all but never have any complaints

ace, on tbe other hand, did get tickled a lot when he was younger and that did not change upon his arrival to nrc. i dont know how to describe it, he just radiates those vibes. also i frel like he was more of the “popular” guys in middle school (he peaked in middle school just kidding) but he was prob the one his frienfs liked to gang up on and tickle

doesnt PARTICULARLY seek out being tickled but will ALWAYS join in if one of his friends is being tickled in front of him with the most sadistic smile on his face. he js evil, do not let urself be tickled by him (or do maybe).

yk that guy who will convince others to tickle the super scary boss?? no?? well whatever, that’s cater. tell me he doesnt whisper to the freshman to tickle riddle… everyone knows its him too except riddle because, well, the freshman never get too far in their endeavors. afterall, leaders are to set an example!

trey knows ofc, but does he stop it? ofc not!! riddle needs a laugh time to time after all.

tickle fights. between all five of them. most r started by the chaotic duo (ace and deuce) or cater. and well, the winner is USUALLY cater or riddle, trey too. ace and deuce never win. plus, cater has his clones to back him up, but if riddle uses his spell, he’s the first one gone

trey just kinda lets it happen, until he doesnt. yea hes ticklish but rarely does he lose unless he lets it happen on purpose. (until u get his back, then he’s done for) riddle and cater know this pretty well, ace and deuce have yet to find out. whenever they come close, trey quickly turns the tables LOL

[tklpilled]

at this point, aether is used to being a test subject. he came to teyvat to find his sister, yet now he’s going to leave an unwilling hero and guinea pig—and, by the looks of it, still sisterless.

he can’t count how many times he’s gone through lisa asking him to try a new spell, or charlotte telling him to stand still so she can work on her photography, or lyney practicing a magic trick he’s just come up with. he doesn’t mind it, really, not that much—it’s better than trying to fix all the archons’ problems for them.

(he’s still hoping for diluc to join the ‘ask-aether-to-try-every-new-thing’ club, but considering everyone thinks he’s a teenager and not thousands of years old, he doesn’t think he’ll be doing a wine tasting any time soon.)

point is, this whole thing isn’t just because of his own stupidity. he made a very understandable assumption, alright?

“come here,” albedo says, writing down some notes. “i want you to try this elixir out for me, if you wouldn’t mind.”

aether nods, although albedo can’t see it with his head bent down. he walks over to the table and sees two bottles, both filled about halfway. on the right is a pale green, glistening substance, and the bottle on the left contains a much more appetising blue-purple liquid. albedo doesn’t look up from his notes, so aether takes a fifty-fifty chance and picks up the left bottle. he downs it in one go.

albedo looks up, then tilts his head. “that wasn’t the right one.”

oh.

if paimon were here, she’d panic and begin asking every question she could think of—but she’s not here, and aether doesn’t know how to panic for himself. so, all he says is, “am i going to die?”

“no,” albedo says, sounding a little amused at how flat his voice is. “but—”

“will i be in pain?”

“no.”

aether shrugs. “alright then. i don’t see a prob—lehem!”

his hands shoot up to cover his mouth, his eyes widening as a sudden sensation washes over him. albedo looks on with a mixture of pity and curiosity as he sinks to his knees. “maybe i should have warned you better…”

aether curls in on himself, arms wrapped around his middle now instead of his mouth. “m-mahahake it stohohop!” he pleads, scrunching up his shoulders to protect from invisible, non-existent hands.

albedo kneels down beside him, admiring the grin adorning his face. he’s never heard aether laugh quite so freely before, and it’s very endearing. he finds himself staring for longer than he had intended. aether is the one being tickled, yet albedo is the one blushing—that doesn’t make any sense.

“in my experience, it stops after a short while,” albedo finally says, blinking away from aether’s incredibly pretty face, “although i took a much smaller dose than you. i’d estimate ten minutes at most.”

“t-tehehen?” aether squeaks. “i cahan’t—too muhuhuch!”

albedo can’t help but smile. aether’s laugh is far too contagious. “calm down, you’ll get used to it soon enough. it won’t feel nearly as bad in a couple minutes.”

despite his words, aether whines through helpless laughter, although he keeps any more complaints he may have to himself. from what albedo had experienced, the tickling wasn’t intense at all; merely a step beyond tingling, just enough to make one laugh. for someone as ticklish as aether, he supposes it might be a bit worse, but the overall outcome should be mostly the same.

“it was supposed to be a strength enhancer,” albedo says, carrying the conversation while aether is too busy cackling beside him. “it still is, technically. it just has some…very strong side effects. i’m sure if you could manage to stand, you’d find yourself a bit better with that sword of yours.”

“plehehease,” aether begs. “mahahake it stohohohop…!”

“hm.” albedo reaches around him to scratch at his side, sending him scrambling away with a shriek.

“i hahate yohou!” he wails, then returns his arms around his waist protectively and kicks against the floor a little. “yohou’re cruhuhuel!”

“i could leave you here until it's over,” albedo suggests, making aether frantically shake his head. “maybe even make some more for you.”

“y-yohou wohouldn’t!” aether cries, although they both know he absolutely would. 

albedo pokes a spot on his tummy that his arms fail to cover up. “if you say so.”

[keigo-takamis-no-1-simp]

Ｈａｗｋｓ Ｘ Ｒｅａｄｅｒ - Ｌｅａｒｎｉｎｇ ｔｏ ｌｏｖｅ: Ａｉｌｍｅｎｔｓ

TW/CW: Flashbacks, hints of abuse/neglect

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Hawks x Reader

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: Keigo meets your annoying sister, and you find out the hard way you stayed outside WAY too long... luckily, you have someone to take care of you.

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: Angst with comfort

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:  2162

𝚃𝚊𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @marydragneell, @numblytemporary, @rainycloud858

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚠𝚘 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚂𝚒𝚡 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 / 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎

“What? Can’t I come visit my own sister?” She balks, throwing a hand over her chest in a motion of false offense. “Atsuki told me what happened- I gotta say, it’s about time he dumped your petty ass.” 

She steps in further, a low whistle coming from her lips. “Ah- so you’re trying the whole ‘gold digger’ vibe. Gotta say, I’m not too surprised.” She chuckles, striding towards you. She holds out her left hand, an expensive and familiar looking ring on her finger. 

“I’ll be getting married with him soon- Didn’t think you’d have good taste, but you can definitely be full of surprises! Oh! And Juni says you need to pay this month’s rent and get your shit off the curb.” She has that same grin that you’ve always hated- smug, snobbish, and entitled. 

“Is this your-” Keigo starts, annoyance and confusion visible on his face. 

“God, you haven’t even told him about me!” She scoffs, shaking her head. “I’m her sister. Younger but better. Anyway, I should get back. I’ll send you details for the wedding- can’t wait to see you there!” And with that… she takes her leave. Purposefully brushing past Keigo and giving him one of her flirty grins. 

Though, she suddenly slips, and Keigo steps back, letting her fall. “Oh, damn… I guess I forgot to clean up the water. My bad,” He’s barely hiding a smirk, and you find yourself covering your mouth with your hand to conceal your own. 

You hadn’t smiled in years, and yet you met him… and you’ve smiled two or three times tonight alone. 

She huffs, getting up and storming out. He glances over at you.. And you let out a genuine, hearty laugh. For a brief second, shock flickers over his expression. “Sorry, sorry- I’ve never seen someone treat her like that.” You wheeze, catching your breath. He can’t help but chuckle too, shutting and locking the front door. 

“Well, what can I say? She was annoying, and I don’t do too well with those kinds of people. Just don’t have the patience, I guess?” He gives an overexaggerated sigh, before chuckling with you. “You had to grow up with that?” 

You sigh lightly, the smile slowly sliding off your lips. Back to the more blank slate expression- one you found you easily fell into. “Yeah. She’s always been like that too.” You shrug. His wings bristle slightly as he returns to his spot across from you. 

“Family sucks.” He dips his head in agreement- though there’s a small noise in the back of his throat again. 

“I’ll start looking into jobs tomorrow, and I’ll try to stay out of your way as much as possible. You’re busy, so- I think until I have something down, I can contribute in the sense of, uh- well, cooking and cleaning, if you’re ok with that.” You offer. You don’t want to intrude into his space without giving something in return- that would be selfish. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that-” He waves a hand lightly, but you tilt your head slightly. 

“... please..? It’s the least I can do as a sort of ‘thank you’,” Your words seem to give him pause- he looks at you with an unreadable, yet neutral expression. After a few moments, he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Alright, fine. Home-cooked meals are better anyway, and I’m not really picky with what I don’t like.” He gives you that stupid lop-sided smile again. “And.. don’t worry about ‘staying out of my way’. I like having you around.” 

He reminds you of the heartthrob character you see in those damn anime shows you watch. Except- this one is very real, and sitting only a few paces away. 

“You like chicken, that’s for sure,” You tease, your face flushing slightly as you brush past his words- he just smiles a little more, chuckling and shaking his head again. 

“Kid, you’re something else.” He pauses, taking a sip of his tea. “But, you’re my kinda somethin’ else.” His eyes trail to the stovetop. 

“It’s pretty late, and you gotta be exhausted. I’m gonna be up for a bit, finishing some paperwork from… ah- last week? I seriously need to stay on top of that stuff-” This time, an awkward laugh falls from his lips. 

You blink, watching as his blonde locks fall just right to frame his face. He takes another sip. “My office is the room to the right of the kitchen-” he gestures with his cup, and your eyes follow. Not too hard to remember- even though you’re certain you’ll get lost here more than once. 

“- so if you need anything, I’ll be there.” He sets down his cup, before stretching. His wings spread out behind him, flexing in an almost dominant fashion. Your eyes widen- they are huge when fully extended. Pictures don’t do them justice. 

“Thank you, Keigo. For all of this- if there’s anything I can do to help around here, just ask.” You finish your tea, and he carefully takes the empty cup from you. 

For a brief moment, electricity courses across your fingers as they brush against his. It’s not an uncomfortable sensation, but- a new one nonetheless. 

He says nothing about it. It’s possible he didn’t even notice. “Now, go get some sleep.” He chuckles, gesturing with his head to the guest room. 

“Yes sir,” You tease, careful not to jump down off the stool and hurt your feet. As you pad into your temporary bedroom, you miss the soft expression of concern and curiosity that follows your frame. 

You crawl into the massive bed, finding that you were right- the sheets were silk. They were comfortable, for sure. Though… as you began to wind down for the night, a few of those pesky little thoughts began to creep in. 

You’re encroaching on this man’s space. He’s been nothing but kind, but was it genuine? He was definitely the type of person to be kind even if it was inconvenient- but that was a front. You could see through it, and that little interaction with Megumi was all the confirmation you needed. 

So was it out of pity, or something else? You were nothing special, something that could be replaced by just about anything. 

Your body was tainted, your memories spotty at best- you’re a total fucking trainwreck. Yet, he was being kind. There has to be a reason- a motive. What did he want? 

You stare up at the ceiling. There’s no way in hell he could just want you around because of your ‘charming personality’. You didn’t like to be touched, you got random stupid migraines that made no damn sense, you were the human equivalent to a opossum or raccoon- and your emotions are so fucked you rarely laugh or smile and you can’t even cry. 

You’re nothing in comparison to him. In comparison to literally everyone else. 

Your chest feels tight- but you simply sit up, ignoring it. The closest thing you got to crying was the feeling of a lump in your throat, and your face heating up. Maybe you were sick- maybe that’s why no one ever stayed. 

You cough, an unfamiliar itchiness in the back of your throat making itself known. You huff running your hand down your face before resting your elbows on your knees. Of course, you’re probably physically sick too. 

Just another way to burden him. 

You shake your head, pursing your lips. You felt colder than usual, but you literally felt a breeze. The AC was more than likely on. You’re fine- you’re always fine. Just… take what you’re given. 

Don’t ask for more, because you’ll lose everything the second you try.

As your eyes finally start to flutter closed, you wrap yourself in the blankets. Maybe you could actually sleep for once… though, considering this was essentially a strangers house, you somehow doubted it. 

You definitely wouldn’t bother him with something as petty as the temperature. You curl up on your side under the blankets, ignoring just how much you’re shivering as best you can. 

After god knows how long- you fall into an uneasy slumber.

Keigo, on the other hand, was having a hard time focusing on the documents in front of him. You were such a kind soul, but you’d clearly been through hell and back. No one despised touch that much and didn’t have some sort of trauma associated with it. 

On top of that- your emotions were hardly present on your face. It was all in your eyes. A smile tugged at his lips. Though- he’d gotten a small smile out of you, and even made you laugh. Both were heavenly. 

He exhales softly, messing with his hair a bit as he thinks. Leaning away from the documents, his mind trails back to that date from earlier… and how different your demeanor was when you showed up on his front door. You seemed more… put together, in a sense, before he left. 

Her boyfriend broke up with her, on their anniversary. How shitty is that? Yet, she hadn’t cried. It reminds him of a girl he met when he was younger, but- there’s no way it could be the same person. 

She’d been proclaimed dead by the officials at the age of 8. 

He groans, shoving himself away from the desk. Yeah- he isn’t gonna get jack shit done tonight at this rate. His wings involuntarily flap in annoyance. 

Stepping out of his office- a new scent slams into him like a semi into a deer on a highway. 

Cortisol- and something else. His brows furrow and he frowns, slowly creeping towards the guest bedroom where you slept. It only got stronger the closer he got… what was going on? Were you hurt somewhere else? Were you afraid of something?

His mind starts to race with possibilities- and when your scratchy voice breaks through the silence, it clicks together. That sickly sweet smell- it was literal. You were sick- that explains the odd scratchiness in your voice earlier. 

You’re pressing your face into the silk pillow, shifting every so often. Soft mumbles fall from your lips, but with his enhanced hearing, he’s able to make out bits and pieces. 

“... ‘s ok, ‘m ok… ‘m used to it…” His brows furrow more, concern washing over his body in a wave of pure ice. Used… to what..?

“... ‘ll be good-” You jerk a little, before your eyes flutter open. You don’t seem to realize he’s in the room- instead, you simply curl up, making yourself as small as possible. He can’t keep the stupid trilling noise from coming out- it’s an involuntary trait. 

You twitch, eyes shooting open. “Juni…” You mumble, backing up into the bed. Do… do you think he’s your ex? 

“No, Dove…” He finds the nickname tumbling off of his lips before he can even think about it. “... it’s Keigo.” 

You take a moment, before relaxing a bit. “... Kei…go…” You murmur, letting your body relax back into the pillows. “... ‘s cold..?” It comes out as more of a question than anything, and he blinks. It’s 75 in here- how are you cold? 

He slowly approaches, ensuring you can see where he is at all times- never making a sudden move. He doesn’t want to make you panic. It almost feels similar to dealing with a wild animal, oddly enough. One wrong move- and it could go to shit. 

“I need to know if you have a temp, Angel- can I touch your forehead?” He murmurs, sitting on your bedside. You don’t answer for a few moments, before shaking your head. 

“... n-no… no touching… please…” There’s a sense of panic to your words that has him gently shushing you. 

“Alright, it’s ok, pretty girl- no touching. I promise. Can I get a thermometer?” He needs to do something to help- he can’t just stand by and do nothing. You nod a little this time, and he exhales in relief. 

Using one of his feathers, he quickly retrieves one from his medicine cabinet. As soon as it’s in his hand, he gently holds it up to your mouth. “Open, sweetheart,” He murmurs, and you obey. You were… honestly so damn sweet. How could anyone want to hurt you like your ex so obviously did?

It beeps, and… unsurprisingly, you’re running a rather high fever. He purses his lips, and he’s pulling out his phone when you speak again. 

“... ‘m sorry… ‘s a lot, an’... thank you for checking on me…” You murmur, head shifting once more. You’re burning up, he doesn’t even need to touch you to be able to tell. 

“It’s ok… I’m just glad you’re here and not in some hotel room. We’ll getcha taken care of, yeah?” He coos softly, resisting the urge to brush your hair from your face. Thankfully, he knows someone that can help. He pulls out his phone, quickly dialing a familiar number.

“Hey, Shouta..? I got a favor to ask..”

[devieuls]

The way of love pt.X

Neteyam Sully x Tayrangi Fem Reader (Na'vi)

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Dom Neteyam x Fem Reader; SMUT; ANGST; FLUFF; Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; Blood; Spit; Power Play; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; Enemies (because of you, Neteyam treats you well). Aged characters: Neteyam 19 y.o / You 18 y.o. SERIE

Synopsis: After a great loss happened in your family, you are forced to take a role that before did not belong to you, following a path that you will feel like your only in time. Just when you thought you were finally overcoming the loss, your clan shows up with those you blame for the great offense received. You are the daughter of the first Olo'eykte of all clans and are about to take your mother’s place to lead the Tayrangi clan, but first you must follow Neteyam (the eldest son of the man you detest with all your heart) To train him, despite your contempt for the Sullys and everything about them, you inevitably bond with the boy, unknowingly falling in love with him.

CHAPTER WARNING: ///////

Lenght : 6k

Notes: This chapter is perhaps one of my favorites, after this, will miss only the last chapter (chapter 11) and then the series will be finished. Enjoy the plot twist and leave a comment to let me understand what the chapter was like

NA'VI WORDS: 'ITE: Daughter; SA'NU: Mother; YAWNETU: Darling; NGATSYIP: Little you; PARULSYIP: Children; TANHI: Star/Bioluminescent freckles; YAWNTUTSYìP: Darling

Character Cast: NEY'NARI: Your dead sister; IKEYNI: Your Mother; TSENTEY: Your Father; YÌMKXA: Your Ikran; ULEYTE: Your bestie; TUL'PEY: Your future Mate; REYIN'AL: Neteyam's future mate and daughter of Ninat

CLOTHES AND APPEARANCE: You ; Neteyam; Reyin'al

PART: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8 ; 9 ; 10 ; 11 the end

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

Then why did your heart beat so fast at the thought of his eyes in love and enchanted as he looked at yours?

The morning came too early for your taste, the sea breeze and the sun’s rays forced you to wake up in a bad mood. A long sigh came out of your mouth when you remembered that today you were going to go to the Omatikaya clan, already feeling the pains in your stomach that made you regret even waking up.

You got up off the carpet, hearing your mother’s voice calling you already impatiently, almost certainly as she loaded her personal belongings on her Ikran, yelling at your father to do the same. You took advantage of the fact that Ikeyni seemed focused on yelling at your father to take a few minutes to eat some fruit and sneak out, to go say goodbye to Uleyte.

"Where do you think you’re going? Come back here and start loading your ikran." Your mother’s voice prevented you from implementing your escape plan, you sighed heavily before nodding and doing as she had asked.

For the next twenty minutes you loaded your items on your Ikran, doing everything slowly and unwillingly, hoping your mother would change her mind and tell you to stay home, but she didn’t. She turned her back on you by continuing to do what she was doing, not wanting to know of any protest or request to stay. Once the Ikran were ready, Uleyte had come to greet you and wish you a safe journey, much like the whole village.

Your friend took you aside before you left, taking you away from where the elders and clan were wishing a safe journey under Eywa’s protection.

"Are you all right? Are you ready?" she asked, caressing your face with kindness, noticing your little hidden expression of sadness.

"No and no, I don’t want to see him but I can’t avoid him either. I have a plan, I’m going to be the mature person who doesn’t suffer for him anymore." Your voice was pretty convincing, even though your heart knew perfectly well that it would screw up all your plans.

"Are you sure? I already have some things packed, I’m ready to get on Yìmkxa and follow you. You still have time to ask me" The girl’s words made you laugh and hugged her.

"Don’t worry, I’ll be fine." You answered and then you saw Uleyte take your face and put her forehead on yours. " Really, I’ll be fine," you whispered and smiled.

"May Eywa protect you, I will pray for you. If that Sully makes you suffer, I swear to you, I’ll learn to ride an Ikran and I’ll smack his ass." she said dramatically, only to smile and look you in the eye, leaving on your hand a band woven with the colors of the clan and small green leaves.

"Thank you…" you said with a thread of voice, then hugged her again, holding her with affection and holding the jewel. Feeling a gust of wind wrapped around your back, smiling gently, thinking that that was Ney'nari joining the embrace, just like when you were younger.

You broke away from the hug, when your mother called you from her Ikran, making you sigh before saying goodbye to your friend and return to your ikran. You put on the sash before you climbed on Yìmkxa and followed your parents in flight, noticing at the end Tul'pey watching you from afar, then turning around and going. Yet another sigh came out of your mouth as you walked with your family to the clan that had now become your worst nightmare, even though you would have liked to see Tuk, Kiri and even Lo'ak again, even though he looked like a total idiot.

The hours in flight passed faster than you thought and you watched your clan get further and further away, welcoming the land of the Omatikaya with wonder, noticing how the forest was enchanting, totally different from how you could admire it from the coastal area. Your family landed on the Omatikaya ground when the eclipse was already disappearing into the sky leaving room for the night, immediately noticing how the main village was welcoming you with much warmth.

You felt uncomfortable to see all those Na'vi who greeted you holding their hands to their foreheads and then pointing at you, returning the gesture immediately after your parents, looking at the people in front of you who opened the way for you to pass. You noticed how your mother’s pace accelerated when she saw Neytiri coming at her, hugging her with affection, while Jake formally greeted your family. Next to them you saw Kiri, Lo'ak and Tuk, but not Neteyam, you didn’t know whether to be happy or not, but a small gap in your heart made itself felt.

Tuktirey was the first to greet you, hugging you affectionately, emulating your mothers, this made you smile as you returned the little girl’s embrace.

"Have you grown taller these past few months? Soon you will reach me" you said playfully, making her laugh as you ruffled the pigtails in her head, while Kiri simply greeted you formally as Lo'ak. In the glances of the two older brothers you could notice some note of displeasure, making you realize that they probably both knew how you were emotionally.

"And you’ve become even more beautiful! Even your clothes are so beautiful!" Tuk’s voice made you smile again, she was really a sweet and kind girl, who did not miss the opportunity to give voice to her innocent and sincere thoughts.

The three young Sullys helped your family settle in one of the empty tree houses, very different from your clan’s wooden huts. You thanked the three brothers and for a few hours you spoke, while they took you out of the house to be eaten throughout the clan as was tradition. You would lie in saying that you had not sought Neteyam’s eyes among people or his perfume, but in this case you did not find them, his person around you seemed so absent.

"He can’t get out of the hut, it’s a tradition that the future Olo'eyktan stays alone in the Tsahik's hut" Lo'ak whispered to you, noticing that you were looking for something with your eyes. You were already fighting back. "I know you were looking for him, don’t pretend" he continued, making you sigh heavily before eating a steamed teylu.

"I didn’t ask" you snorted while you were eating.

"But you were looking for an answer, I just gave it to you." You turned to him, like you wanted to ask for something else, but you shut up before talking, knowing there was no point in raising your hopes.

"Thank you, but I didn’t need it." You whispered and then noticed the look of understanding that Lo'ak turned to you.

Lo'ak and Kiri could see from your eyes the same feeling of despondency that Neteyam had in these months without you. They knew that you both wanted each other and also understood your duties as future leaders of your respective clans, what they did not understand was why your parents did not come against you or why they seemed so blind to your unhappiness. When Jake announced the impending mating between Neteyam and Reyin'al, the Sullys' older brother had been desperate to have more time, he wanted to keep his promise to you, returning to you after some time, apologizing. The only one to understand it immediately was Neytiri who tried to convince her husband to give him more time. Neteyam had spent the days before her forced mating praying and meditating, looking for Eywa to beg her to take you back to him, if only to make you feel his apology.

After a few minutes of talking to Kiri and Lo'ak, an elderly Na'vi approached you, making herself known as "grandmother" thanks to Tuk who had greeted her. She asked you to follow her and you nodded, moving from the ground to follow her to an open house, where on the ground there was a young Na'vi that you recognized for the smell.

You rolled your eyes and noticed that Na'vi was Reyin'al. The old woman sat you next to her and looked at you. "Y/n te Skxumew Ikeyni'ite, as the last earthly guide of the future Olo'eyktan you are called to speak with the Tsakarem Reyin'al te Sxeke Ninat'ite, to guide her spiritually and mentally towards the great rite"The old Tsahìk, Mo'at, dismissed without too much ceremony, closing the curtain behind her. Your heart stopped beating as your lungs threatened to let you choke.

"There is nothing I can say about Neteyam more than one of his brothers can." You said after collecting as much air and security to look strong.

"You’ve been with my mate for over a month, you can tell me something more about him." Her sour voice made you doubt that she was the daughter of the singer of the Omatikaya clan.

"Is an exceptional Na'vi. He excels at everything he does, but I think you know that better than I do, because you grew up with him" Your tone became just as acidic, while a sharp tension was created in the air. She looked at you thinning her eyes, just like Pandora’s predators did before attacking their prey.

"These are things I already know, my mate is great at everything. He also told me about his lessons… with you." Reyin'al spit out the last part with poison, as if the thought of Neteyam with you burned in her mouth.

She had noticed how Neteyam spoke of you, describing you as exceptional, an excellent guide, a kind friend and admirable Leader, she had never heard him say a bad word about you. She smelled the situation, but she knew that Na'vi men were having fun with many women before mating through Tsaheylu with one woman.

He still remembered that 'Ma Tanhì' said when you asked Neteyam who she was, the way Neteyam seemed to fall apart after seeing you leave, and then run after you despite her trying to hold him back. She hated the moment they left and he wouldn’t stop looking back, or how he had waited for you to return to his hut until the last. She knew that you were something more than a teacher to him, but she could not afford to raise charges against the future Olo'eykte of a clan as powerful as the Tayrangi, best known for their skills in riding the Banshees and hunting.

"Like I said, he’s a Na'vi who excels at everything he does. He was a very good student." Your voice was cold, while you supported his predatory gaze with your indifferent, you did not intimidate Reyin'al in the slightest and she noticed.

"Then it is a good thing that he chose wisely to anticipate the rite of Tsaheylu with me. It was months away, but after he came home two months ago, he decided to cut it short. I guess I should thank you." Her words stabbed you in the chest without even expecting it. It was difficult for you to keep your face as indifferent as possible, because inside you a new piece of your soul was torn.

"There’s nothing to thank. I didn’t do anything." Reyin'al smiled at you with disdain before answering you.

"But you have done a lot. Don’t think I don’t know." At these words you looked at her, feeling the bitterness in your throat, as if it were poison.

"What would you know?" You asked, as your eyes tapered like hers, the only difference being that your eyes were more endearing, and she reassembled.

"That surely in your clan he will have fun with some woman, it is normal for Omatikaya men to have moments of leisure away from home." Her tone was mean, just like her eyes. "Of course I gave him permission for all this, you know how the guys are, but then he came back to me. He was so happy to come home, come back in my arms. He could no longer stay away from me" you looked at her with indifference, as you derealized what she was saying. "After all, I am his mate, I’ll be the one to bind myself to him and his soul tomorrow. For this, I thank you. You guided my soulmate wisely."

You took a deep breath before nodding, accepting her thanks, knowing there was something unsaid. "I only did my duty." You hissed

"You are too modest. You guided my soulmate on the right path, he returned home healthy and stronger. It’s no small feat, though I’m sure he’s had his affairs with some skank. You know, Neteyam had always been in love with me and he suffered so much from my lack that the first day when he came home we…you know. He was so passionate and engaging" his tone getting increasingly mean to you, you knew she was doing it on purpose. But the thought of Neteyam doing the same thing to you hurt so much. " He also started calling me 'Tanhi', He says I shine like a star, that’s why he calls me so. It’s something he said when we were kids, I’m so glad he remembered."

The heart fell into your stomach, being dissolved in the acids that were contained in that place. Neteyam called that woman what he called you, it hurt you, your bleeding wounds now seemed to result in hemorrhage. "I’m glad." you hissed before you got up from the tappet to get away from her.

"Don’t you wish me a safe path with my soulmate Neteyam? it is tradition." She smiled mean while watching you get up from the ground. Reyin'al waited for the blessing, noticing how your eyes revealed a veil of pain you were trying to hide. "May Eywa protect your path." You said clenched teeth, noticed her proud smile and winning posture before heading out of the hut.

You took a long, deep breath to hold back what looked like tears of pain, starting to walk to the opposite point from which you had arrived. You hated how you were feeling, you knew that maybe it was a lie, but there was that worm in your head that told you it wasn’t a lie. Why did she have to lie? Surely Neteyam did not tell her that they had had intimate moments, so why not believe her? But at the same time your heart screamed that you had to believe in him

Your heart hurt again, as if small needles were slowly puncturing it, causing you to feel pain, but you could not scream from the pain due to large throat knots. Unknowingly you found yourself in front of a closed hut but that had an unquestionable perfume, he was there.

You would have liked to see him, but at the same time you preferred not to. After two months you felt so close to him and the only thing you could do was lay your hand on the tent for a few seconds, along with your forehead, poisoning yourself with his sweet scent that was better than you remembered. You would have wanted to come in and look at his eyes as you convinced yourself that he was nobody, but your heart was beating so hard feeling his heart close again. You sighed once again before turning around and leaving, not knowing that Neteyam had felt youe presence too, but when he got up to open the tent it was too late to see you, so he thought it was just another joke of his mind.

It hurt, everything in you hurt, but in those few seconds that his perfume collided against your nose, it made you feel at home and calm. You were wondering if he really lied to you, all those promises, kisses, intimate moments, was it really all just fun?

You tried to buy yourself back, you couldn’t afford to collapse again, not in a place where everyone knew you like the next Tayrangi Olo'eykte, you would have been weak. And that’s how you swallowed your feelings, pulling the moments with Neteyam out of your mind and torturing yourself with Reyin'al’s words, it was good to know now, it would have been enough to convince you of the woman’s words and your heart would not have made a beat thinking of that boy who was not yours.

It took you some time before you found the right road to the house where you were staying with your parents, and when you found it you rushed in with the intention of going to sleep. Your mother told you a few things, but you ignored her words to keep your mind empty, nodding as if you were consenting to everything she said, then taking your things and going to sleep in those strange capsules that were the clan’s bed.

You prayed to Eywa to take away the pain, to strengthen you for the next day, and to protect your heart if you saw Neteyam, so as not to fall for him again. You closed your eyes, unknowingly seeking comfort in the necklace around your neck, forgetting that some threads are twisted belonged to Neteyam, feeling strangely better before falling asleep.

The day greeted you in a way too tortuous for you, the air was so intrinsic of happiness around you, hearing some Na'vi preparing the village for the big event. You could understand their joy, after all the eldest son of Olo'eyktan was going to take his place, and lead the clan in a new era of prosperity and peace under the gentle hand of the Great Mother.

You opened your eyes, cursing yourself for waking up one more time, hoping that for some strange reason the capsule would fall, but unfortunately for you it wasn’t.

You climbed to the platform where there were already many Na'vi coming and going with some decorative objects or delicacies for the banquet that would take place immediately after the main event. Formal and ceremonial clothes adorned the slender bodies of the tribe, and guests from other clans, reminding you that you too should have prepared to honor the new couple who would be your clan’s ally, but there was no joy in your heart, only bitterness and sadness. These feelings increased when you noticed Reyin'al coming out of Ninat’s tent, dressed in a charming manner that almost looked like Eywa's daughter. The long black braids were adorned with jewels typical of the Omatikaya, with some feathers that you recognized as those of Neteyam and his family, her face was radiant and bold as she walked through the village to return to her tent, drawing everyone’s attention and eyes on her. You envied her then.

Lucky for you your mother Ikeyni found you with a speed and ease that reminded you why she was recognized as a great hunter and observer, she took you from her arm and then dragged you to the house where you were staying, to get ready. She wasted no time and arranged your braids, picking them up slightly and putting some items representing the Tayrangi clan before sending you to change with your dissent.

"Mother, the ceremony will begin later. Don’t rush me, nobody’s waiting for me" You snorted while wearing ceremonial clothes that strangely were so complicated and full of draperies. They remembered the nets your clan used to fish, while the loincloth cloth was draped in such a way as to simulate the waves, but thanks to the light breeze it seemed to emulate something vaguely like the wind.

"Ma 'ite, of course they are waiting for you. I told you about it yesterday, Mo'at asked that the teacher of Neteyam prepare him with tribal painting as a last step lesson, from student to Olo'eyktan. You said 'yes', so they are waiting for you now" Hearing your mother’s words you opened your eyes wide and walked out of the corner where you were changing.

"Me what? No. Why me? II have not accepted anything. And then, even dad taught and trained Neteyam, why does he not do it?" Your voice revealed a slight panic and exasperation. You couldn’t believe the one time you didn’t listen to your mother, she asked you to do this. It felt like Eywa was starting to play with you again, or your sister was trying to help you again, and at that moment you remembered the speech he gave to her two months earlier.

"Because I asked you, if you had told me 'no', I would have asked Tsentey. But you said yes, and I told Mo'at and the Sully family" She said, and then she smiled at you in those clothes. "You already look like the Olo'eykte Tayrangi. Today will be your time to be the face of the clan" Her sweet voice made you breathe heavily.

You didn’t feel like making a fuss and going against your own word, if you had retreated back, your word would never have been taken seriously by anyone. You looked at your mother’s eyes, full of pride as she saw you wearing those clothes that fully represented your clan and your status.

"Your sister sewed this dress a long time ago, she said she would give it to you on the day of your social debut as the future Tsahik, as she said that you would be the spiritual voice of the clan…now you wear it to represent the Tayrangi as the future Olo'eykte and Tsakarem" as if the memory of Ney'nari were hurting her, in fact she never spoke of her.

"Me? Tsahik? I was so rebellious and unmanageable, how could she think I would be a good spiritual guide?" You said laughing bitterly at the memory. Ironic how even your clothes reminded you of your sister, it seemed like she was doing everything to remind you of that Tsaheylu argument.

"You were, but she said that your soul was deeply connected to Eywa, even if you didn’t participate in the rites, you ran into the forest or the sea and connected to the native animals. She convinced me that you would become a great Tsahik, but look at you here… My little girl will be Olo'eykte" She caressed your face gently, and glimpsed in your eyes a bit of the spiritual essence of Ney'nari, making her smile. "Now go, you’re already late and I still have to get ready." she said before she left you. You knew she was about to cry over Ney'nari’s memories and you left her alone, knowing she didn’t like to be seen in moments of fragility like that.

The dress felt like it was giving you warmth and strength, so you thought your request last night had been answered this way, 'a protection for the heart if I had seen Neteyam'. Now you were going to see it and you were squeezing into those fabrics that let you wear your sister’s warm embrace.

When you arrived at the Sullys' house, Neytiri greeted you with a kind hug, and then formally greeted you. She was charming, her clothes worthy of a Tsakarem, colorful and refined, while her body presented some paint marks that recalled the colors of the Omatikaya clan.

"Ma yawntutsyìp, you are wonderful. It seems that you have already taken your mother’s place" Neytiri’s gentle hands caressed your face, touch and sweet and warm.

"You are wonderful too, ma Tsakarem," you laughed slightly, noticing how her gaze fell on yours, reminding you that she wanted to be called by her name. "Ma Neytiri" this time she smiled, then called Tuktirey.

The little girl showed up with a deep bowl that contained white paint, mother and daughter accompanied you to Neteyam who was a bundle of nerves inside his tent. He stood with his back as his hands leaned on what appeared to be a table or shelf with some clothes on it that he should wear. Your hands trembled, just to see him from behind was taking your breath away

"Ma'itan, it’s time to get ready…" Neytiri politely said, as she had Tuk put the bowl on one of the furniture that were there, and then sent her to Jake to get ready. Neteyam turned around, ready to respond negatively to his mother, but remained silent when he saw you, enchanted.

Time seemed to slow, and your looks met, remaining enchanted by each other, it seemed like a lifetime ago since you saw those eyes for the last time. His eyes held a veil of sadness but there was something that made you realize that he was happy to see you but also sorry for something. Neytiri smiled as you reacted in that way, then quietly disappeared, leaving you two alone.

A thrill of excitement passed through your body. Your heart was beating faster and faster, as the butterflies in your stomach took flight creating a strange dance. You had the feeling that everything around you was fading, focusing only on him. As if the rest of Pandora is dissolving, leaving you two alone in an aura of magic and old promises.

The words got lost in your throat as you tried to breathe, to remember how to move and walk. Your senses are sharp, every detail of his face, his way of looking at you and moving seemed to have been eternally etched in your memory. His presence resonates within you, a sweet melody that makes every fiber of your being vibrate.

Your legs trembled as you approached him slowly, then carried a hand on your forehead and pointed out to greet him formally; the words intertwined in your mind as you tried to follow the plan you had studied so as not to fall back into his sweet trap.

"Sit down…" you whispered as you took the bowl that Tuk had left. Neteyam sat down and looked at you with so much adoration and nostalgia that for a second you almost thought that everything was back to the way it was. You felt a sense of déjà-vu as you sat in front of him, reminding you of the first time they had forced you to draw on his body for that distant holiday.

"You’re gorgeous…" Neteyam whispered in love, voicing his thoughts, watching you shuffle the paint inside the bowl with your fingers. At that moment all your defenses were dissolved, leaving room for a sense of vulnerability that overwhelmed you brutally. You felt like he opened a door in your heart, allowing all emotions to flow without restriction.

"Your partner is gorgeous." Your tone was slightly sad as you took the paint to begin the tribal blessing designs. The chemistry between you was palpable, and the mere encounter of looks seems to encompass a universe of meanings, which led you to look away from his cursed eyes.

"It doesn’t matter… It’s not her I’m looking at" he said without looking away from your face, while you drew the first line on his chest, feeling your fingers burning on him. At his words, you raised your eyes to meet his, for a moment you thought that nothing had changed and that you were still the same people who until a few months ago were kissing secretly in a shed, exchanging promises and talking about the future.

"You’ll see her soon, she’s very beautiful today, I saw her…" Your voice was nostalgic, you missed him so much. But talking about her was like eating a great dish, knowing it’d been poisoned.

"How are you?" he asked gently, changing the subject. His tone of voice was also evident in his nostalgia. He thought he was dreaming and that this was just a beautiful dream, shuddering at every touch accompanied by paint.

"Well, I'm fine… I’m preparing to become Olo'eykte and Tsahik… I’ll mate with Tul pey in four moons…" Your fingers did not stop working lines on his chest and shoulders, noticing with the corner of your eye his sad expression.

"Four moons…" he whispered, with disbelief and sadness "I-I’m glad you’re fine, ma Tanhi," you raised your face to hear that nickname you missed so much. Your eyes moved from his lips to his eyes, feeling that urge to kiss him and feel him again as yours.

"what about you? How are you?" Your voice was dying in your throat, you were kind of hoping he was sick today, just because he was gonna mate with Reyin'al.

"Nervous, I never thought I’d be here, on a day like this, to mate a woman I don’t feel like my own" he laughed nervously. "…It’s just… weird, that’s all."

You smiled softly at him, albeit with a slight tone of sadness, understanding where he was going. Your eyes passed through his entire body, following your fingers that traced lines and points on his torso and neck.

"Everything will be all right, the Great Mother looks up at you and protects you, ma 'Teyam" his face came up to yours and you felt his heart pounding wildly. Neteyam’s heart was beating faster and faster, He missed you so much, and he missed hearing you call him that.

"I would like the Great Mother to watch over me to follow this path with another woman." He sighed as his eyes pointed to your lips, "You… you don’t know how much I wanted to tell you before… That I’m sorry, for everything, Ma Tanhi. I-I swear. I should have told you about her, I was an skxawng"

A wave of heat enveloped you at those words, as your stomach filled with frantic butterflies dancing in a disorganized manner. Every breath became deeper and more difficult, as if just looking at him left you breathless. Your cheeks faded with a slight blush, while your thoughts falter between enthusiasm and uncertainty. A sweet and sudden feeling of lightness pervaded you, as if the chains of worry were melting.

The look you exchanged was full of contrasting emotions: passion and desire are intertwined with nostalgia and sadness of lost time. The air charged with an electrical voltage, a palpable energy that enveloped both of us after all that time. You could feel the presence of each other, the heat emanating from your bodies, as if there was an irresistible call that united you two. Your eyes attract like magnets, you peer each other, looking for clues and signs that confirm that everything you have shared in the past can still exist.

Each line of your faces bears the marks of the experiences you had experienced, but the sparks in your eyes reveal that the feelings you felt were still alive and present. The romantic tension and the weight of time spent were felt. Doubts and fears crept into your heart, like a cold wind caressing the flames. Old pains and past disappointments are scars that cannot be ignored. And so, in the midst of this dance of desire, you stood there, staring at his lips intensely, breathing suspended, while he did the same.

"I have to finish…" You said to then lay clean fingers on his chest, making him sit normally, while you continued to create drawings.

He looked at you enchanted, hoping that you understood how much he still craved you, not only carnally, he wanted all of you.

Your fingers began to draw lines and curves on his face, trying to resist the temptation to still taste his lips, and it was difficult because of his strong and sweet scent, but also because of the way his eyes burned with love on you.

The fear of suffering again, of putting at risk what was rebuilt after the separation, holds back your deepest instincts, you couldn’t give in right now.

"I missed you, ma Tanhi. Every night, every day, I missed you so much." He whispered, noticing the little distance between you, the tension became heavier and harder for both of you.

"Neteyam… you are going to make Tsaheylu with Reyin'al…" your fingers passed over his lips, making the last lines of the tribal blessing design.

"I don’t want Reyin'al" he said, brushing your fingers with his hand, smearing himself with paint while he couldn’t look away from you.

Before you could answer, Mo'at entered the room, and you instinctively walked away not to raise any suspicions.

"ma parultysip, are you finished?" asked old Tsakik, looking at you, and then smiling when you nodded.

"Yes, ma Tsahik." You stood up from the ground without looking at Neteyam, as you approached Tsahik to greet her formally. The woman puts a hand on your shoulder and dismisses you. For a second, before you left, you turned and your eyes met those of Neteyam who did not miss a single movement of yours.

A whirlwind of emotions erupted within you as memories of past love re-emerge in your mind. A mixture of happiness, excitement, and fear spreads through your body, making it difficult to control the visceral reactions that overwhelmed you. You sighed thinking how stupid you were, it was so clear you wanted him and you didn’t know if Neteyam really wanted you or was just playing.

Acquitted in your thoughts you clashed with Kiri, who held you from your arms to keep you from falling. "Hey. Y/n, but where’s your mind?" she asked, looking at you, checking if you were okay.

"Oh, I’m sorry, I’m just distracted." You said you’d pull yourself together and look at the girls in front of you.

"The ceremony starts soon, I know you don’t want to… but we have to go, it’s the other way. Follow me" Kiri took your hand and led you to the opposite side of the village, meeting again Neteyam who was to go with Mo'at from the opposite side to yours, he was dressed in traditional clothes that the Olo'eyktan wore before being recognized as such. You passed by, but your hands searched silently, stretching some fingers, as if they were attracted by a magnetic force, barely touched each other. You two felt the contact, light but full of meaning, that triggers electric shocks along the skin. It is as if an inner fire is burning within you, fueled by the memories of the past and the awareness that this moment could be the beginning of something new. And then let you go, you drag by Kiri and him to his grandmother.

When you arrived at the sacred place where all the clan and guests had already gathered, you sat in the second row, along with Kiri and Lo'ak, already seeing Reyin'al standing in front of the Tree of Souls. She looked at you defiantly, with the same eyes of those who were winning both the war and the battle, seeing you so close to the tree made her happy, because you would see that Neteyam had chosen her.

When Neteyam reached her you felt a squeeze in your heart and Lo'ak offered you his hand to shake if you needed it, remaining silent and respecting your pain. Every word of the Tsaheylu rite stabbed you in the heart, and with it you shook Lo'ak’s hand ever stronger.

"Oel ngati kameye, ma Neteyam," Reyin'al said as she took her braid very theatrically, glancing at you to make sure you saw it.

Neteyam remained silent for a few seconds, feeling the pressure on him and the look of Jake burning on his skin, hoping that he would do nothing foolish, while Neytiri hoped that her baby would become a man and follow his heart.

Neytiri understood that you and Neteyam had something similar to what she and Jake had had, she understood that since she first saw you together. In fact, she sent Lo'ak instead of Tsutey to check where you and Neteyam ended up that night in the shed.

A mother feels and understands her children even before they understand each other, so in the months when he had returned home, she did everything to help him and encourage him to follow his heart. After all, she was the one who raised her kids by telling them about her love story with Jake Sully.

Neytiri was shaking Jake’s hand while mentally encouraging his first son to make the right choice, and was slightly disappointed when she saw Neteyam take his braid. She was waiting for him to put it back, and then she saw you on the other side. You shook Lo'ak’s hand, grieving, while Kiri gently scratched your back.

Seen from the outside, no one would ever suspect that you were suffering, after all you were rigid and composed, but those little details didn’t escape her.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes II:

This is officially the penultimate chapter, it tears my heart. Anyway, I’m trying not to hate Reyin'al, but I can’t </3

-Mel

(I’m in love with this picture, okay? Okay.)

[renecdote]

and what if in your sleep, you dreamed

The last square on my BTHB card is finally here! This one is for @herodiaz, ily Becky 💛

Summary:

The thing is, Buck had been doing well with his dreams. Nine out of ten nights, he wasn’t bringing back anything that he didn’t want to. But: head injury, mostly. The trauma of it all, probably. That night, Buck goes to sleep in Eddie’s bed and wakes up holding his car keys. It’s—it could be worse. After the tsunami, he kept waking up with his sheets full of sand, soaked through and shivering. After Eddie was shot, he’d wake up with blood in his mouth, choking on the taste of it. When Maddie was gone, hiding herself away in Boston, and he missed her so much it ached, Buck had to fight against his mind not to bring her back from his dreams. That would have been hard to explain: waking up in bed with Taylor on one side and a carbon copy of his missing sister on the other. Car keys, at least, can be hidden. Except it’s not just the car keys. Or: the raven cycle inspired dream magic fic For BTHB: wound that would not heal

In his dreams, there is always more blood. It pools under him as he lies in the middle of the road, pours down his arm as he stumbles through waterlogged streets, fills his lungs as Abby takes a knife to his throat. It’s torn out of him with slashes on his arms, his legs, his chest, veins cut through and gaping, arteries nicked. Buck bleeds and bleeds and bleeds until there is nothing else left of him.

In hindsight, the whole blood clots turned blood thinners thing is kind of ironic.

Or. Is that what ironic means? It’s whatever word means the universe is laughing at him, is what it is. And the universe has always loved laughing at him. Laughing and screaming and clawing him open.

For Buck’s whole life, Maddie has told him that he isn’t cursed.

“It’s a gift, Evan,” when he’s a kid. “It means you’re special.”

Becomes: “You’re different, Evan. It’s not a bad thing.”

Becomes: “I don’t know why, okay? Sometimes things happen and you just have to deal with it. Life isn’t always fair.”

She was right about that: life isn’t fair.

She was wrong about other things though. Including the fact that he’s definitely cursed. How can he not be when he dreams of blood and wakes up terrified that he has brought it with him? Buck bolts upright in bed or on the couch, at the station and at home and everywhere else he sleeps, patting himself down—arms, throat, chest, legs—fingers trembling, breaths loud and gasping, his heart beating painfully fast.

It’s worse when it comes from memory.

Months after the truck bombing, he dreams about losing his leg and wakes up on Eddie’s couch shaking, sobbing, clawing at the duvet until his fingers are digging into his thigh, his knee, his calf, still there, still there, still there. Buck folds over himself, knee hugged to his chest, hand pressed against his mouth to stifle the sobs that still won’t stop. His leg is cramping, pain shooting up through his spine, nerves tingling, but he can’t make himself let go. Can’t stop shaking. Can’t quite believe that he’s awake.

“Buck?” Disembodied and worried, the light flicking on a moment later. “Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Eddie falls to his knees beside the couch, reaching out, and Buck shakes his head over and over, but can’t find the words to say he’s fine. (He’s not fine.)

[Read on AO3]

[sarahwroteathing]

Friendship is Mandatory (4)

[Bucky Barnes x Reader]

Word Count: 2409

Summary: Bucky digs deep in his therapy session before heading home for laundry day with you and a new friend.

Warnings: Therapy session, cursing

A/N: Your fav dysfunctional roommates are back, and they're trying their pretty hardest! Also my glasses broke, so I was doing this blind. Be kind, please!

“You’re smiling more today,” Joe said quietly into a comfortable silence. 

There was a candle burning on the table today, wafting a warm vanilla scent through the small office. It reminded him of you. Three days ago, you’d dragged him to a candle store with a tight grip on his sleeve, insisting that you discover his candle preferences right that very second and it’s serious, Bucky, it could make or break our friendship. 

“Am I?” Bucky asked, dragging his eyes up from the slowly dancing flame. Joe nodded, gave an encouraging smile of his own.

“You’ve been smiling since we started talking about your new homelife.”

“Oh…”

He honestly hadn’t noticed, too caught up in the memories, probably talking too fast following his phone call with you in the hallway. You’d talked for fifteen minutes without breathing, hopped up on sugar from two back-to-back cake tastings. 

“How is that landing for you?” Joe asked, drawing him gently back out of his thoughts again. 

“Makes sense, I guess,” Bucky answered with a shrug. He didn’t really have any bad memories with you, something he couldn’t say of anyone else in his life. You were separate. You were safe.  

“Say more.” 

“Um…” Bucky tilted his head, eyes straying to the window as he tried to find the words he wanted. “It just feels… better. Better than before, when I was living on my own. I mean, I was fine. But I wasn’t… happy. Didn’t really expect to be.” 

“You didn’t expect to be happy,” Joe repeated curiously. 

Bucky shrugged again, shifting a little in his chair. 

“No. I was just waiting for something to happen, I guess. Waiting for…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hands.

“Waiting for something to happen to you,” Joe guessed. “Something bad.”

“Can you blame me?” Bucky asked quietly, looking down at his hands.

“No.”

They sat in that moment together for a little while, silent but for the sound of traffic echoing up from the street beyond the windows. When Bucky looked up again, Joe did the same, meeting his eyes with a tiny smile. 

“Backwards or forwards?” he asked.

He did this sometimes. When the conversation they were having could stray in either direction. He gave Bucky the choice. 

Bucky took a deep breath, clasping his hands together in his lap. He should probably do both today. For this. Backwards first, to explain. 

“I used to take care of people,” he said quietly. “That was my whole… life. I took care of my ma, and I took care of my sisters. I took care of the neighbors. Took care of Steve. For a while.” 

If Joe was surprised by Bucky’s decision, he didn’t show it, just nodded in encouragement. 

“That was what mattered the most to me. I was good at it, proud of it. It made me happy to make them happy.”

Bucky opened and closed his mouth a few times, mind rushing ahead into things he didn’t want to say but still probably needed to.

“But…” Joe prompted gently.

“But… then I got drafted. And things weren’t the same anymore. I mean, I still… I still was responsible for people. I still tried to take care of people. But.”

“Taking care of people meant something else.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said rubbing a thumb over the palm of his hand. “And it was… It was terrible to fail. Unthinkable. But succeeding didn’t feel… It felt bad too.”

Joe nodded thoughtfully, left space in the silence for Bucky to feel what he needed to before moving on. 

“And then for a while there wasn’t really a me to take care of anyone. And then I was barely able to take care of myself, couldn’t afford to think of much else. Just. Confused. And scared.”

“Overwhelmed,” Joe read off his face, and Bucky nodded with a frown.

“Then surrounded by people who knew more about me than I did. Or thought they did. And I was stuck being someone that wasn’t quite what anyone wanted me to be, all good or all bad. Just a… cheap imitation. That didn’t work quite right.”

Joe tilted his head, just a little, all concerned eyebrows and compassionate eyes, and Bucky rushed on before he could reflect anything. He’d already pushed himself deeper than he had planned on going today. He didn’t want to linger in this one. 

“But now,” Bucky said firmly, and Joe leaned back in his chair again, made a small gesture with his hand: message received, we’re moving on. “It’s different. It’s better.”

“Better. Unpack that for me.”

“I feel like more of a person…” Bucky said carefully. “Less like a ghost.” 

“With your roommate?” Joe clarified.

“Yeah… She doesn’t expect me to be anything besides…” Bucky gestured vaguely at himself. “Whatever’s going on in here.”

“And she helps you take care of yourself. The candles and sweaters. Bedding.” 

“She does,” he agreed, letting himself flash another smile, thinking about how you’d crawled all the way into his duvet cover trying to shove the fluffy new duvet into the corners, came out with your hair a mess of static. “And she lets me take care of her too. We take care of each other. It’s… It’s really nice to have that again.”

“I see the joy that brings you,” Joe said softly. “I can feel it too.” 

Bucky nodded, smile coming back slower and softer this time.

“Yeah.”

—---------------------------------------

When Bucky got home, you were waiting for him, bouncing on your toes as soon as you saw him and rolling up the sleeves of your oversized sweater. 

“Laundry day!” you sang. “You ready?”

Bucky smiled, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it by the door next to yours. 

“Yeah, just give me a second.” 

“I will give you as many seconds as you could possibly want. I’m not going into the murder basement without you.”

“It’s not that bad,” Bucky said with a snort, earning an unconvinced noise from you as he eased past you and your overfilled basket to retrieve his own. 

“How was therapy?” you called out. 

Bucky made a face as he swiped a pile of folded clothes from his nightstand into his laundry basket. 

“Uh, it was fine!” 

He changed quickly, not bothering to close the door when he knew you hadn’t budged from your spot by the couch. When his old clothes joined the laundry pile and he was comfortably dressed in a new hoodie and sweatpants, he joined you in the living room, laundry basket balanced on his shoulder in a way that always made you smile.

“Overcooked spaghetti fine or burnt toast fine?” you asked when he came back into view.

That was the way you always described yourself post-counseling. Either soft and mushy, in need of blankets and kindness, more prone to weepiness and affection. Or with a lingering bitterness of negative emotion, brittle, in need of nothing but space. 

Bucky took a deep breath as he followed you out into the hallway and locked the door behind you. 

“Overcooked spaghetti,” he answered, thinking about exactly how much of his session had been spent talking about you. 

“Well, good thing we’re doing laundry then. You can put on a sweater right out of the dryer. Instant cozy.”

He hummed his agreement, and you bumped his shoulder companionably as you made your way through the stairwell down to the basement. 

You grimaced a little as you hip-checked the door open. The dim lighting, electric buzz, and unfinished walls and floors always freaked you out a little, and it made Bucky unreasonably happy that you considered this the creepiest place you’d ever been. 

“I hate this place so much,” you muttered, eyeing the bottom foot of the laundry room walls, where the drywall gave way to studs and chicken wire. 

“I know. But look what I did today,” Bucky said, flipping the second lightswitch on the wall which had been abandoned by all the tenant for months. The other half of the fluorescent light panels flickered to life and you gasped, dropping your basket onto the nearest machine.

“You fixed the lights!”

“Told you I wouldn’t let you get murdered down here,” he said, claiming the machine beside yours. 

“Yeah, but I thought you were just going to mount a defense with a dirty sock or something,” you said, grabbing his hand and holding the back of it against your cheek. That’s what you did instead of hugging him, he was pretty sure. You’d never talked about it but seemed to assume it was off limits, a violation of some unspoken boundary. You didn’t ask, and he didn’t know how to offer. So you did this instead.

“Well, I can do that too,” he said, squeezing your hand gently before you let go. 

“A man of many talents,” you praised.

Bucky scoffed but said nothing, and as he sorted his laundry you tapped away at your phone until you found the playlist you wanted, half his music and half yours, created on a lazy Saturday. 

Just as Bucky was pulling the drawer out to add detergent, you gasped again.

“Did you buy fabric softener?”

“I did. I was very annoying about it too. Smelled every single bottle before choosing one.”

“Love that for you,” you laughed. “What did you go with?”

Bucky removed the cap and  held the bottle out, and you leaned in to smell the contents.

“I’m getting….” you squinted your eyes slightly. “Trees.”

“Trees?” he laughed. “You think they’d just slap ‘trees’ on the side and call it a day?”

“I’d buy it. I respect an honest label.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, setting the fabric softener on top of the machine and spinning it to face you.

“Ooooh, Alpine Vista. Well, excuse me, your Majesty.” 

“You’re not excused. I have excellent taste.”

“You do,” you said, with a great beaming smile that made Bucky flush against his will. “I’m so proud!”

“It’s just laundry. Settle down,” he laughed, but he felt a little proud of himself anyway. 

For the next three hours, you trekked up and down the stairs together with your laundry baskets, not wanting to loiter any longer than necessary in the godawful basement. Just like your two previous laundry days, you kept up a steady stream of animated chatter, though with notably more good-natured arguing than before. Bucky felt himself start to settle after the emotional rawness of therapy, and by the time the two of you hauled your baskets up the stairs for the last time, it was no longer weighing on his mind. 

He ran to the bathroom during your last bit of pre-folding stretches and was washing his hands when he heard you shriek. 

He was out of the bathroom so fast it was a miracle he didn’t break the doorknob.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

You were standing on a kitchen chair, hands clasped in front of your mouth.

“Your laundry basket moved!”

Bucky’s eyes sought out the basket in question, sitting where he left it on the rug.

“What do you mean it - ” 

He didn’t get to finish his question before it became unnecessary. The pile of sweaters and jeans inside shifted ever-so-slightly. 

“It fucking moved!” you said with an accusatory point, dragging him back towards you by his hood. 

“Okay… Uh…” He reached back, blindly patting your leg in a way he hoped was comforting as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to do about this. 

You were way ahead of him, leaning from your perch to snatch the kitchen broom and press it into his hands. 

“Okay…” he said again, approaching the basket with slow steps. You hopped off the chair and shuffled along behind him, never releasing your grip on his hood. 

He poked gently at the pile of clothes with the broom handle. Nothing. 

“Do it again,” you whispered.

Bucky shook his head, hooking the broom into the neckline of the top sweater and dragging it off of the pile. You both took half a step closer.

There was a white furry tail and one tiny paw visible for a brief second before they disappeared under the clothes again. Bucky dropped to his knees this time, reaching in to move handfuls of clothes to the couch beside him until he uncovered a small white cat curled up in his laundry basket, blinking up at him grumpily and letting out a small plaintive noise at having her cozy little home dismantled.

“You have a stowaway,” you said with quiet awe, kneeling down beside him. “Hello, friend.”

You held out your hand, and the cat gave it a dainty sniff, a tiny lick. After a nudge, Bucky did the same. His offer was met much more favorably, as the cat sat up to nuzzle her head into his hand.

“She’s so cute,” you said, mouth hanging open as you watched the cat affectionately bully Bucky for more pats and scratches. 

“I’m going to try to pick her up,” Bucky said, unsure of the reception as he reached his vibranium hand into the basket too. The cat seemed utterly unbothered as he scooped her up and set her tentatively on his lap, nosing at his legs and stomach for a moment before resolutely burrowing her way into his hoodie pocket. 

He stared down in shock at the lump in his sweatshirt as you laughed delightedly. 

“You’re the chosen one.” 

He set his hand gently on the outside of his pocket, feeling the cat begin to pur moments later. 

“Can we even keep her?” he asked, glancing up at you uncertainly. He wanted to, he realized belatedly, as the cat’s fuzzy white head poked out of his pocket again. 

“I think we’d better. She’ll track you down if we don’t,” you said with a smile. 

“You sure?” 

You switched abruptly from petting the cat to petting him, ruffling his hair until he laughed and batted your hand away.

“It makes you happy, right?” you asked, smiling like you knew the answer already, like it was the only thing worth considering.

“Yeah,” Bucky admitted.

“Then yes, I’m sure. What are you going to name her?”

He hummed thoughtfully, looking around the room until his eyes caught on the new bottle of fabric softener. 

“How about Alpine,” he suggested with a smile. 

The cat meowed quietly as if in answer, and you laughed, reaching out to pet her tiny head. 

“Nice to meet you, Alpine.”

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

AAAAAAAH we have an Alpine! I already love her.

Give me a shout, and tell me what you think! Anons more than welcome! I can’t do what I do without you

Tags: @shifutheshihtzu @internalbullshit @lilasiannerd-blog @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @iwillbeinmynest @scotlandasshole @netflixa @hardcorehippos @singingprincessstudent @sophiealiice @blue1928 @tinuviel015 @a-book-pressed-rose @bbparker @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @feelmyroarrrr @marvels-mistress @bornfortherainydays @mybuck @my-drowning-in-time @intrepidacious @im-a-light-child @orangespocks @multifandomgirl-us @creideamhgradochas @buckybarneshairpullingkink @rebekahdawkins @xxbuckysbxx

[niallsgoldhoop]

Chapter Seven

Wren

“I saw the changes you made to the list.”

Using the spoon in my hand, I scoop up a piece of chocolate cake from the plate that sits between us before eating the bite of decadent dessert.

Niall watches me, his deep blue eyes dropping down to my lips for just a moment. “You’ve got— Right there.”

Heat floods my cheeks as I wipe at the corner of my mouth hoping to get the remnant of chocolate off my face. Only when I look back across the table, he only shakes his head with his perfect lips drawn in a soft smile.

“Here.” Leaning over, my breath catches in my throat when Niall drags his thumb just under my bottom lip, the moment so small yet leaving a trail of fire across my skin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

As he sits back in his chair, my eyes follow his movement as he lifts his finger to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the sweet treat. A low, satisfied hum falls from the back of his throat for only a moment before reaching for his own spoon from our shared dessert.

“Tastes divine, don’t you think?” Those eyes sparkle under the lights.

Clearing my throat and shaking my head, anything to get myself out of the spell I’ve been put under, I nod. “Yeah, it’s great.”

Niall’s focus goes to the plate in front of us which gives me the chance to take him in. Wearing the short sleeve pink shirt, the gold of the thin chain around his neck glitters against the low lights— just like the two gold hoops through his ears.

When he cuts a piece of the cake off, even the simple movement showcases the ripple of the vein in his forearm under his skin.

Niall Horan really is… Yeah.

I almost didn’t even show up tonight.

The note left in my desk had his messy scrawl on it telling me when and where to meet him. It was right on top of my desk along with the list of rules that I’d printed off for him.

Only now there were doodles and that same messy scrawl scratched along the edges along with a handwritten list of his own rules along the bottom.

As ridiculous as they seemed, not to mention his changes, there was no way I was going to argue with them.

Niall didn’t have to be tied to me for the next few months to trick my family into thinking I was in a happy relationship. We barely even knew each other other than what google told me about him and what he could probably find out from my social media if he even cared to look at it.

My sister had already planned for me to have a plus one in a million different circumstances so the thought of having to tell her that my plans changed made me nauseous.

If anything it would send Jenna into a tailspin.

Then everything would be my fault, just like it always is.

“I figured those changes wouldn’t be so bad.” Raising his eyebrow at me, Niall drags his spoon through the chocolate on the plate. “Besides if we are going to make this believable— we’re going to have to put in actual effort.”

My entire life I’ve hated being wrong and right now is no exception.

“Fine.” Crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair, I level my gaze with his. “We can abide by the amended rules but no other changes.”

“So, girlfriend—“ His smile makes me want to punch him. “Tell me every detail I need to know about you.”

Blue eyes pour into mine as I squirm in my seat, hating the attention. “There’s nothing to know really.”

“I think you’re wrong.” He smiles. “I think there are endless things you could tell me about yourself and I wouldn’t get tired of learning.”

Rolling my eyes, I look down at my glass of water. “You’re just saying that because you have to say that.”

“Wren, look at me.”

The low timbre of his voice draws my eyes back to his, a softness I’ve never seen there, just for me.

“I promise you when I say that just because we decided to do this as a team— It doesn’t mean that I don’t want to know you.” Niall runs his hand through his dark hair. “You haven’t told me the whole story of your life and your family, and that’s okay. But I want to be here for you, I want to know you.”

Sincerity drips off his words like a sweet honey in the summer, something that feels so foreign to me.

It feels like a lifetime I’ve spent as the black sheep and the loner, the person who doesn’t mind being on the sidelines.

Watching people step around me like I was invisible felt fine until it had me crying in the closet at work.

I was still fine.

I was still strong.

But as I open up a little bit and start talking to Niall, the way he looks at me like his favorite book of poetry stirs up an emotion I can’t nail down, one I’ve never felt before.

So for what feels like the first time in a long time, I decided that letting someone in might not be all bad.

It might just be my favorite thing yet.

_________

“You did so good!”

Wiping the sweat from across my forehead, I look at Marcy like she has two extra heads and at least twelve arms.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” My breath is still ragged from the kickboxing class she managed to talk me into. “I need a breathing treatment and a dozen margaritas.”

Stretching her arms above her head, she looks perfectly poised. “I can get down with the margaritas for sure.”

Marcy was my best friend.

Really, my only friend.

My circle was small and I was okay with that.

We met in college and have been nearly inseparable ever since.

While I got my degree in marketing, she got hers in teaching. The two of us couldn’t be any more different but at the same time that’s why our friendship works the way it does.

We just click.

“Or ice cream. I could go for some ice cream.” With my hands on my hips, I take a deep breath.

Macy points at me. “Sold to the brunette.”

Reaching out, I laugh as I push her hand away before we make our way to the locker room of the gym to grab my stuff.

Bernie’s is only a block away and with the warmer weather hanging one for just a little while longer, we decide to walk and enjoy the breeze over our skin. Once I’ve got my waffle cone stuffed with ice cream and we sit at a bistro table outside, only then does everything seem right in the world.

With everything going on with Jenna and the wedding we haven’t been able to see each other very much.

If at all.

“So how is everything going with the evil sister?” Taking a bite out of her chocolate ice cream, her eyes meet mine. “Have you told her to go tuck herself yet?”

I can’t help the laugh that falls from my lips as I shake my head. “No, but I wish.”

“Seriously like, not only are you dealing with her but Lucas too? He’s even worse if that was possible.” She mutters.

“I don’t know.” Pushing a chunk of cookie dough around on the end of my spoon, I blow out a breath. “Now that I see him for what he’s worth, it feels like him and Jenna make the perfect couple.”

“You should take me as a date to the wedding.” Pointing her spoon towards herself, Macy smiles. “I’ll get wasted and throw up in her dress for you.”

Looking down into my bowl, I can’t help but bite in the inside of my lip. “Actually, I kind of have a date.”

“What?” Sitting up and putting her ice cream down, Macy stares at me. “Wren… What are you not telling me?”

“So maybe my boss found me crying in a closet and somehow saved me from utter humiliation and we are sort of fake dating until everything is over.” Putting my cup next to hers, I bury my face in my hands. “It’s literally a whole fucking thing. With rules, Mace! Rules!”

“Oh my god.” Peeking through my fingers, her face is one of total shock. “Are you talking about like, Rory? The guy who runs everything?”

“No.” I groan. “It’s not.”

“If it’s not him then— Holy fucking shit, Wren.” Realization dawns on her. “Niall Horan? The Niall Horan?! You’ve got to be shitting me!”

“That’s the one.” I squeak.

She squeals as she reaches across the table and playfully shoves my shoulder. “You’ve been holding out on me with this?! Wren, he’s like— Have you seen him?”

“I have, a few times.” Laughing, I finish off my ice cream. “It’s not a big deal. Everything is strictly for the wedding stuff and I have to go to a few work events with him. No feelings, no attachments.”

“Oh this is going to be so good.” Crossing her arms a sly smile pulls at the corner of her lips.

A crease cuts between my brows as I stack our trash together. “What?”

“Nothing.” Macy stands up with me as we walk to the trash and then start our trek back to our cars. “I’m just writing my speech in my head for when I have to speak at your wedding.”

“Stop!” I laugh. “It’s not like that. Yeah, Niall is— He’s— Okay, he’s attractive and incredibly nice… But it’s not going to go anywhere. It can’t.”

Rolling her eyes, she bumps my shoulder. “May I ask why?”

“I don’t know— It just can’t. He’s just helping me out and trust me, he wouldn’t ever actually be into me.” I kick a pebble along the sidewalk. “Niall is a whole famous golfer who owns the place where I work— Not just like he’s another coworker. Besides, who would actually want to try and date the same girl who spilled an entire jar of pickles on them?”

Reaching into her bag and unlocking her car, Macy stands behind the open driver's side as she looks at me. “Wren, literally anyone would be crazy to not fall for you. I know that you feel like it’s not possible that someone would find you perfect— But you are wrong and I’ll be here to tell you ‘I told you so’ as many times as you want when you realize that.”

“Stop being nice.” I say, opening my own door. “I’m leaving before you get too nice. Text me when you get home?”

Climbing into her car, she calls out an ‘I love you’. “Yes, mother.”

Driving home, her words bounce around in my head and even after I’ve taken a shower and packed my lunch for work, they are still playing on repeat.

So much so that I pull out my phone and open the text thread with Niall’s name at the top, his last text sitting at the bottom without an answer from me.

Away on a business trip, it took me by surprise when the picture came in yesterday, the pinks and oranges of a sunset along with a sandwich sat on the table in front of him.

A reminder of how he found me not that long ago when I needed an escape.

I focus on the words under the picture, the ones that I’ve tried to figure out a response to at least a million times.

Niall

The sandwich just doesn’t taste the same without someone else here.

Just like every other time I’ve tried, I type out a response only to delete it and back out of the messages.

I couldn’t let myself get invested.

I wouldn’t let myself get invested.

—————

eeeeeep !!!!!

-a 🍀

[c6jpg]

natlan 5.0 brain dump

i did this in a lot of small chunks so i already forgot all of my detailed thoughts so i'm gonna try to keep it brief

general environment/exploration:

first off music and scenery is 💯💯💯

i particularly like how much wildlife there is and i really love the saurian gameplay (for me its hydro > dendro >>>> geo)

i feel so awful every time i accidentally kill a capybara they should be immune like the rhinos

it makes sense that there isn't "one huge city" like the other nations since natlan is composed of tribes, and each tribe looks like it gets a decent amount of attention, but i was still kind of disappointed by how small the stadium of the sacred flame feels in comparison for being the "main" area. i feel like they could have done a lot more with it

archon quest:

tldr; it was... not good? or at least very underwhelming? especially coming off fontaine/sumeru which had incredibly strong opening acts

act 1 was particularly like. whatever. felt more like a kachina story quest that rolled right into a mualani (but npc-focused) story quest

like for how important the pilgrimage is it just felt so. underwhelming and anticlimatic. yes yes i know kachina is precious and everyone loves her but i wish we spent less time doing kachina support group and focused more on the pilgrimage itself like can we at LEAST see some of the other playable characters participating instead of just hearing about it in passing

literally was soooooooooo fucking annoyed with the entire atea plotline. i wrote a whole rant in my first write up but basically that entire arc only existed so that they could bring back the purification plot device which WE HAVEN'T SEEN SINCE MONDSTADT

i was just incredibly annoyed with how that was all handled lol atea is also just such a non-character how am i supposed to care about her. she didn't even die in the end!!!

also mualani's tribe's whole thing being super stereotypical hawaiian tourism left a really bad taste in my mouth i wanted to get out of there as fast as possible

act 2 was weird because like. i felt like they were saying a lot of things that were like "this is a serious national crisis" but it didn't... feel that way? and a lot of the lore itself was pretty glossed over

i think a problem with the natlan story is that you need the first acts to set up the stakes but we just spent the first act gallivanting around with kachina/mualani and then when they DID get to the "main problem" in act 2 it just info dumped so hard to the point that i. didn't care?

pacing in general just felt all over the place

the only investment they gave us is through caring about kachina and i guess hating the abyss/not wanting a nation to be destroyed on principle but idk. especially with the "nah we gotta wait for the last 2 heroes first" the stakes are Not there for me

reminded me of when nahida was like "yeah i needed you to figure this out for yourself bc if i told you directly your head would explode." but at least that one was fun/could just chalk it up to nahida being cheeky and didn't like. prolong the plot for too long

SHOW US DON'T TELL US DAMN IT. i might just have recency bias but i genuinely feel like natlan might be one of the worst cases of telling and not showing as far as archon quests are concerned

also capitano's appearance felt so random LMAO he really showed up, said some cryptic shit, got his ass beat, and then left. at least the cutscene was cool?

chasca girl i'm shaking crying throwing up somebody get that girl a full pair of pants and brown contacts PLEASE

i find it interesting how detailed/fleshed out chuychu (chasca's sister) is, both in terms of design and personality/character. it kind of felt like they originally intended for her to be playable but turned her into an NPC instead

also citlali is definitely some kind of faruzan situation where she's old but young looking

night kingdom was cool i guess nothing really to say here. i am very interested in the wayob lore though especially in regards to how it ties into the rest of teyvat/why natlan has particularly weak leylines

i feel like mavuika's younger sister might also become relevant in the future... in a bad way. like the insistence to not being forgotten/seeing mavuika again, the fact that mavuika doesn't "really" know what happened to her. also she also got a pretty unique npc model. or maybe she won't be brought up ever again idk

in general that whole reminiscence sequence with mavuika was like. fine but again you just info dumped the shit out of me i have no emotional attachment to feel anything about whats going on right now???

also we all know that was fucking ororon at the end with capitano like lmao come on. but im willing to bet both he + chasca are the last two heros bc like. who tf else do we have left LMAOOO

capitano was supposed to be cool but he's just giving goofy villain right now. sorry capitano fans they flopped so hard with him in this act

[macbethisms]

For the fic ask game: flip flop + whatever scene from "like everybody else does" + Lady Ki? 👀

hm yknow if that fic was written from lady ki's perspective the title song would be my love mine all mine

The other night, your brother took you out for drinks — to catch up, he said, but really it was because he thinks you've ruined your life for no conceivable reason and thought you'd talk more about it if you were drunk. He was never as smart as you. It was why he was always your favorite. Afterward you smoked on the curb outside like coworkers, watching your breath mingle in the air between you. The Goyang heat slides right off your shoulders; you didn't miss it, the humid weight of every summer. You didn't miss anything about this place. But you ran here, is the truth, fled home to your mother like a child because you had nowhere else to go.

"But you're still working?" your brother clarified.

"I'm taking meetings," you said. When you blinked, the neon glow of the city shone through your eyelids as if they were no barrier at all. "There's been some interest."

He nodded, placatory. "And that kid ... hope the old man's been sending you checks."

Money, always fucking money. The taste of ash and soju lingered bitterly in your mouth; you ran your tongue over your teeth and spoke. "Are they all like this? At this age?"

"Like what?" he asked.

"Rebellious," you said, although what you meant to say was sad.

He laughed. "At this age and every other, little sister."

The world blurred at the edges, uncertain. "He's a good boy," you said, and my good boy is what you meant, the possessive curling hot and tight in your body like a closed fist, like grief. Is this what motherhood is, losing him all the time by inches, feeling him bleed away from you? Bad blood. No, you won't let it happen. Not to you, not to what's yours.

Your big brother shrugged, as if it didn't matter one way or the other. "Well," he said, "you know kids." His eyes turned kind, then, a thing you couldn't abide. "I'm sure you're doing all right."

Now he’s saying something — your son, your son who was made from you — something about these strangers he’s been spending his days with against your will. He sits awkwardly on the bed: shoulders slightly hunched, with his hands tense and crablike on either side of his thighs. He doesn’t want to talk. There’s a reddened scrape on his pale left knee, too big for his lengthening body, and you aren't sure where it came from. Behind him, the sun is lowering in the sky, turning it a thousand shades of molten gold.

You hold up a hand to silence him; to your biting, iron satisfaction, he obeys. "It was all right when you were spending time with your cousins," you say, although truthfully that chafed at you, too. But it's better than the alternative, better than him running around with a gaggle of random teenagers, especially — well. There are things you don't talk about, with family.

His look of betrayal is galling. His face, the face you know as well as your own. "If you'd let me stay in Beijing —"

"Enough." Is this what it was for, your whole life? You have a headache. "This is about your future," you say. "You have to work hard in school or your father" — his father, the word twists bladelike in your mouth — "or your father and I can only do so much for you. Money can't buy you everything."

"I know," he says, and you feel the lie with all the certainty of yourself. He doesn't know what you've done for him, what you've done to give him everything. What he doesn't know could fill a whole universe, that idiot boy, the person you love most in the world.

"I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart."

"Uh huh," he says.

And it's the only thing you can do. Give him everything and watch as he doesn't even reach for it. It's all your useless hands can do. "I love you," you say, but it comes out as something else.

[coffinscore]

Our own comforting world.

A little kiss that's all it was supposed to be, A small temptation to fulfill curiosity what could go wrong with that? A lot, A lot actually. More than curiosity the reality of two souls were filled with nervous frustrations taking it out on each other. Nothing could go right there as the two stood breathless forcing their mouths against each other not moving not acting out anything more it was filled with nothing. What should it of felt like? Something special? Should it be sweet and warm? Not a chance he could only taste the meat of their parents on her lips. Should he be revolted? He doesn't even know anymore Andrew had no clue why he even agreed was he that desperate for affection. He didn't miss the touch of Julia so why had he been so agreeable to such a question. "Kiss me?" It was so simple it could have been a tease so why in hell would he agree?!? Staying unmoving he moved his arms that had been resting on the hips of his sister to wrap around her waist he needed to get something out of this to justify his actions today. Pulling away the young man began asking "What are you wanting out of this..." Furrowing his brows before continuing his words "And you better not say anything like that!" A light blush grazed his face remembering that horrible dream.

"You gave it.." A cracking voice was all he heard before feeling his dear sister tucking her face in his sweater. Andrew immediately tightened his grip on her out of instinct hearing that tone. "Ashley?" He simply asked as he brought a hand up to pat her back what was up with her? Tears soaking though he got worried he fucked up big time. "Are you okay? You know if I did somethin-" He spoke before an interrupting voice "I-I'm fine.. Just relieved." What on earth could that mean? What the hell sort of relief could kissing your brother give- "I'm scared Andrew." A broken voice "Thank you for doing all of this.." Ashley was acting meek this wasn't like her. "What could you possibly be thanking me for?" "I'm scared okay.. When we left the apartment I was scared." He froze. "I'm scared i'm going to turn around and you'll be gone.. But your kiss felt relieving. Is that bad? It feels like you're choosing me.. Even if you never do it again I feel like its all going to be okay" He chuckled as she rambled on, Usually these rambles were at his expense so he couldn't help but laugh a little "So dismembering our parents didn't give you that feeling, But a little kiss did" Andrew loosened his grip pulling back from their hug holding onto her shoulders instead. "You know i'll never understand you sometimes." A pouting face and teary eyes looking up at him "Don't laugh at me you jackass!! I poured out my heart to you" She said while smacking his hand away. It's okay that he didn't understand why he did it, If it meant this much to her then it's okay. They'll be okay and he knows it they'll make it out of this whole situation the cannibalism, the murder, the weird cult, as long as they stick together like this.

[wario-speedwagon]

Dave and Old Sport Adopt a Kid: Chapter 14

Happy Valentine's Day! I've got an extra long chapter for you this time, and it's a bit of a doozy, so I hope you enjoy! Full chapter under the cut :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 13 All Chapters Index

Chapter 14

Jack. was. miserable.

Frankly, all he wanted to do once he got home was go straight to bed so he could at least meltdown over everything in private. But no; Dave was almost certainly gonna expect an explanation the moment they sat down, and Jack was running out of ways to get out of it.

Does he just rip the whole band-aid off tonight? ‘Hey Dave, that was my sister Dee, you know, the one you and Henry killed? Yeah, she’s not thrilled that I’ve started working with the man that helped kill her.’

…

Jack was tired enough that just saying those exact words was maybe even tempting actually. Whether or not it would cause a shitshow, at least it’d be easier than enduring more of Dave “subtly” egging him on to share more about his past. If he really wanted to know that badly, he could just have it then.

But that wasn’t what Jack really wanted at all. He cared enough about his relationship with Dave to not want to jeopardize it so thoughtlessly. If only Dave could just somehow take the hint that he kept things to himself for a reason. Not to mention the secrets he kept were usually things he himself wished to leave behind.

Y’know, like his dead family.

And as much as he hated to admit it, maybe Dave was onto something with his recent stunt. Why not build a new family on the ashes of his old one? Maybe it wouldn’t be half-bad after all. It could even be fun, once he eventually got over the salt of how Dave sprung this all on him without listening—

*sigh*

…Except his “dead family” was still there to haunt him. And that complicated all of this for him.

Still… Maybe there was a thin thread of hope… It was foolish to think it would ever fix the bridges he burnt, but still…

With Pruny now here with them, maybe leaving the child murder behind would be on the table. It had its fun, sure, but Jack was far from attached to it, and the actual killing parts of it were, uh… more to Dave’s taste than his own, if he had to admit it.

Jack didn't at all regret befriending Dave, not one bit. At the same time, he decided he didn't always care for all the lives he helped take either. Or more specifically, for being the William to Dave's Henry. He saw the parallels, and it left a nasty taste in his mouth whenever he noticed them.

But worst of all, the blood on his hands permanently ruined his relationship with his family. It ruined it first with Peter when Peter believed the reports that he killed Dee, and then it ruined it with Dee when Jack decided to be the very child murderer he'd been framed to be.

He didn’t know why he ever thought she wouldn’t eventually notice.

*hic*

Oh… Pruny was starting to cry behind him again.

Now a different flavor of guilt took over. It’d always been one of the worst sounds to Jack, knowing that he couldn't comfort it to silence. And not simply because of the car he was busy driving either; despite how easily children could just show all their feelings, Jack never knew what to do about most of them. No matter how much faith Peter had in him back then to reassure him that he would do just fine. No matter how much he thought he could trust Jack to do it on his own now.

But that must have just been wishful thinking on Peter’s part to feel better about moving out in the end, because after that day, that faith had been well and thoroughly dashed.

…And it turned out that trying to reach out to Peter to apologize and explain after everything that happened was a mistake too…

Well, that guy was dead now anyway, so it doesn’t matter anymore, right?

No no, Jack wasn’t going down this train of thought again.

But man…even Dave, who was now currently offering generic words of comfort to a silenced Pruny, was somehow much more natural at this than Jack could ever manage in his six years with Dee. Yeah, maybe it was better to leave Pruny to Dave tonight.

The drive home was approaching its end now; except where he would usually start to feel relief and unwinding after another hard day, Jack felt none tonight.

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

The three had just finished anticlimactically climbing out of the car and entering their home. Only minimal words were exchanged in the process.

And now they were milling about in the living room, evidently waiting for someone to be decisive enough to break the ice.

Well Jack had one idea to change this awful mood a bit.

“C’mon, let’s go take care of that scratch. Lucky for you I always have plenty of ointment. Go wet a towel and clean your face, I’ll be right back.”

Jack had already disappeared before he could see Dave’s slight confusion at this turn of events. Must not have been anything Henry ever bothered with for him.

Being a zombie cursed with immortality had its strange quirks. Sure, his body always repaired itself from injuries back to a functional state, though Jack learned the hard way that if he didn’t properly care for said injuries, they rarely healed, er, right.

And just as he promised Jack returned to the living room, antibiotic cream in one hand, as well as a clean rag in the other—he decided didn’t trust the Freddy’s-provided bandage Scott gave Dave to be sufficiently sanitary. (Heck, with Freddy’s incredibly lax sanitation policies, if they really wanted to take down Dave Miller, they didn’t need any sort of Springlock trap or sting operation, but simply an honest attempt at first aid. How ironic.)

Dave was currently dabbing his face with the wet towel he obediently got for himself, and Pruny was sitting next to him, observing with interest as she usually did. (Thankfully her eyes seemed dry again.)

“Why don’t you take that filthy dish rag off your face so we can clean it up right.”

“Nah, you don’t have to—”

Jack took his seat next to Dave on the couch, close enough to get a good look at his face, and Dave immediately tensed away for space. Jack took it upon himself to remove the old bandage himself since Dave didn’t seem so inclined.

The rag covering half his face was removed to uncover a flustered expression with almost-red cheeks. Dave’s whole demeanor was uncharacteristically timid and touchy right now, but it was probably easier if Jack ignored that for now.

“Chill out, a little ointment sting never hurt nobody,” said Jack matter-of-factly as he was already mindlessly portioning and spreading the appropriate amount onto his fingers ready for application.

As Jack’s hand approached his cut cheek, Dave instinctively pulled away with a quiet, nervous laughter and an ever redder face.

“C’mon, man, what’s your issue?”

“...N-Nothin’! Just… heh… gonna be cold, isn’t it?”

Jack blankly stared at the obvious cowardly excuse—‘cold’?—and Dave’s failed show of composure collapsed even further the longer it went on.

“...Do it yourself then if you rather—”

“Oh, nonono!” he unexpectedly insisted. “You can still— Eheh…” Dave trailed off quickly and intensely avoided eye contact again. His face was now beet red and clearly fighting off an involuntary smile of some sort, and it looked goofy as hell.

“—AGH-gh-hgh—!” Jack had impatiently smeared a glob onto one of Dave’s cuts.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“—A little more warning next time!” yelled Dave grimacing, hand instinctively cradling his now-stinging cheek.

“Now rub that stuff in more. The more it stings, the more you’re doing it right.”

Dave did as told, wincing accordingly. When he stopped rubbing his face, Jack turned to face him again and readied another glob for application, which turned Dave’s face red again.

Pruny was silently grinning watching all of this go down with completely undivided attention. Jack couldn’t blame her, Dave’s faces were definitely providing some free entertainment.

“Goin’ under your eye now.”

After a moment of blank hesitation, Dave nodded, tightly closing his eyes to brace himself.

“Don’t scrunch your cheeks up so much like that, just relax them.”

But Dave’s face seemed to do the opposite of relaxing the closer Jack’s fingers approached for another smear. Wow, Jack wasn’t expecting him to act so shy about this. It was definitely frustrating to work with, but it was amusing enough that he didn’t mind.

His fingers finally made contact with the bags of Dave’s eye, and to his credit, Dave didn’t back away this time, but bravely took it, humming whimpers of discomfort to himself as Jack lightly rubbed the stuff until it eventually absorbed.

As Dave was getting used to the sensation of his face being touched, Jack then repeated the process above his eye. Jack glanced at his side to see Pruny still utterly transfixed, watching Jack's hand like a dog watching the tennis ball waiting for you to throw it. Jack was pretty sure she probably hadn't blinked in a good while, so he playfully dabbed a small fleck of ointment on her nose with a grin on his face, winning a mischievous laugh out of Pruny that Jack reciprocated with a chuckle. Dave had opened his eyes too late from his prolonged wincing to catch why they were suddenly giggling.

She clearly wanted to participate too, so Jack let her dab a tiny bit onto Dave's cheek. Of course, when he saw Pruny was taking a turn, Dave had to lower his neck down a lot so she could reach.

Jack then returned his focus to making the finishing touches on the remaining skin cuts on Dave’s face.

“...There, that should do it.”

“Th-Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now how’s the eye itself?” Dave had not opened it once since removing the bandage, which worried him.

“Not… great if I’m honest. Might need to rock that pirate style for a while after all, methinks.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to try to see a doctor?”

“I’ll be arrrright!” said Dave as he all too readily whipped out a classic black eye-patch that he must have stolen from Foxy on their way out.

Jack just stared in disbelief. Pruny giggled next to him.

“...If you start talking like a pirate, I might just have to punch you for it.”

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

They were all gathered at table, clinking their spoons away at their mac and cheese bowls. The two had hotly debated earlier whether mac and cheese was a spoon food or a fork food, but that debate was easily settled once they found that only the spoons were clean in the drawer anyway. Dave was glad to have at least one victory ove Jack today, no matter how much Jack insisted he didn’t “win” anything.

It was still depressing to Jack how quickly his food stash depleted when now feeding three times the mouths. Pruny was eating slowly at her own comfortable pace, contrasting with how Dave leaned in to ravenously scarf down his bowl up to his face. Jack swore he was going to get that white towel wrapped over his eye stained with cheese sauce.

Jack had made him keep the clean towel over his eye for now until they washed the dumb pirate patch of its Freddy's...essence. There was only so much hygiene one could keep up with when you worked at Freddy's, and even less so when you were a rotting zombie, but still: when it came to stuff like that, Peter had drilled every caution into him, and it still stuck with him. (Man, if Peter could see how Jack lived now…)

Dave triumphantly set down his bowl and spoon with a satisfied sigh.

“Ahh, that was good.”

“You barely gave yourself time to taste it, or else you’d realize it’s sadly just Kraft mac and cheese.”

“My friend, I don't need to ‘taste’ it to know it's good eatin’.”

“I… That's an interesting view on food.”

“So…” As Dave's voice calmed to a more serious tone, Jack was way ahead of him and wasn’t having it. “About—”

“Not now. Two of us are still taking our time to actually enjoy and taste our food.”

“...Alright,” he relented civilly.

There was that tension from the car again. Jack suddenly had less appetite when he knew what awaited the end of the meal, but he continued anyway as if unbothered. Still, Dave didn't have to wait so expectantly at the table like this. Oh how Jack envied Pruny right now who was just eating peacefully and obliviously.

…Though now that Jack gave more than a peripheral glance at her, he noticed she wasn't her usual self either. She still had a good amount of her bowl left, and more of her spoon motions were spent toying with the noodles than eating them.

Dave noticed Jack's attention toward Pruny and also seemed to independently catch on to the same concern.

“C’mon, eat, Prune. It’s getting cold.”

She didn’t take notice until Dave lightly nudged her bowl which brought her out of whatever headspace she’d been in as she rushed a bit too much to show them that she was indeed eating.

The table remained at awkward clinking silence, this time minus the ravenous sounds from Dave’s side of the table like before, but eventually everyone finished their bowls. Pruny took the liberty of excusing herself immediately after finishing (and she finished it quickly as if she was being graded on it), so she headed for the spare room for some paper and pens from the desk drawer before taking them out to the living room. (Wait, since when did she find where Jack kept that stuff…?)

Jack, meanwhile, had risen to collect the bowls and silverware and brought them to the sink which he then turned on to fill said bowls with water. He didn’t feel like washing them right away, but he learned from experience that letting mac and cheese dry made it more of a time-consuming bitch to clean later—actually, on second thought, maybe he did feel like doing all of the dishes right now, so he rolled up his sleeves and grabbed the dish soap.

Good. Dave also finally got up to find his own way to keep himself busy too, it would seem.

…Oh, he was coming over to help with the dishes, wasn’t he? He walked toward Jack and the sink, also rolling up his sleeves.

Well here we go.

But to Dave’s credit, and to Jack’s bewilderment, he immediately set to the task without a word, and he was surprisingly efficient at it too. Evidently he knew what he was doing, and Jack didn’t know if it was condescending of him to be impressed considering Dave’s penchant for chaos. Then again, he used to live with Henry, which was always a plausible explanation for any number of mysteries and surprises Jack found in Dave over time.

It wasn’t until a full stack of cups had been rinsed to dry that Dave began.

“Jack Kennedy, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s… my name, don’t wear it out. Actually, on second thought maybe you should wear it out more compared to what you usually call me.”

“No, it’s just—in the car ride, I did a lot of thinking, of where I would have heard the name before. Why it’s familiar.”

“I mean, there is that copycat U.S. president you’re probably thinking of—”

“No, not that, I’m serious!”

Jack dropped the attempt at facetiousness because Dave wasn’t having it. Neither of them were really cleaning any dishes at this point.

“Alright, no more dancin’ around it. I know where I remember your names from. And from that I can connect some pretty ugly dots about what’s goin’ on.

But I wanna hear it all from you.”

“You’re really not messing around for once. Where should I even start?”

“Well, let’s start with names. So you’re a Kennedy, eh?

I’m well aware of who the Kennedies are. Specifically Dee Kennedy, the little redhead girl who got abducted at Fredbear’s in…” Dave counted mentally, “1973. She’d be your sister, yeah?”

For how stupid he acts, Dave was actually scarily perceptive.

“That means you know my real name too. Because the Kennedies and Fredbear’s go way back, don’t we? You’ve known of me long before even Henry died.”

Dave then fell silent, as if expecting Jack to take it from there, so he did.

“You’re William Afton. One of the two men who murdered my sister in cold blood.”

Jack was surprised by the old anger that surfaced as he admitted that. He thought he let that go. Strangely, Dave seemed almost glad about it.

“So I was right. It’s good to see you do still remember that second part too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sportsy, it’s so damn bizarre to me—how you’d so easily and happily start snagging kids with me of all people, and after what I did to your sister? If you two are really family, then that just doesn’t make sense to me, because you knew damn well who I was from the beginning, so—”

“What doesn’t make sense to me is why you suddenly care about me and my family’s affairs. You certainly didn’t back then.”

“But Old Sport, you’re practically family to me now, so now it’s different—”

“And they were my family just the same.”

That made Dave stop to reconsider some things.

“You really just don’t even think about any of the lives you’ve taken, do you?”

“I-I suppose not? Not most of ‘em, anyway, never really felt a need to.”

Jack held a thoughtful silence. And then he decided to get into it.

“Well think about this then. Dee was our younger sister. Good fifteen-to-twenty years younger than Peter and me, and it was up us to raise her, having dead parents and all.

So you can stop pestering me about why I know so much about raising kids.”

Dave cast a brief look of embarrassment to the side with a half-hearted chuckle.

Jack then sighed before continuing.

“Then 1973 rolls around, Peter’s moved out with his wife and kid, so it’s just me and Dee celebrating her sixth birthday at Fredbear’s, why not? And then of course you know what happened that day.”

Now Jack took his turn to wait for Dave to answer from there. But the response he got instead was strange.

“How did that… make you feel?”

“...Huh?”

Jack looked quizzically at Dave who evidently still meant that question sincerely.

“It was the worst I’d ever felt in my life.”

“I-I see…”

Dave resumed the handwashing that their conversation had suspended, so Jack did the same. They both needed a good moment to think.

But then Dave abruptly set his plate down and turned to Jack.

“No wonder she was so pissed at you! How could you just forget her like that!?”

“Are you aware of the hypocrisy of you telling me that?”

“Still not half as hypocritical as you buddying up with me in front of her!”

“Yeah, well I didn't exactly want her to find out about all that…Why do you think I was so keen to keep her box wound up?” Not that Dee wasn't well aware of what Jack had done at that point anyway, but...

“... …Sportsy, do you ever want to make up with your sister?”

“...Hmm...

…Well what I want and what I plan to do are very different things, and the latter is ‘no, never.’”

“Why not?”

“Well that should be obvious after today; it’s not up to me.”

“Well, what about what you want then?”

“What I want…I don’t really know. I try not to think too hard about what I ‘want’ out of life these, just depresses the hell outta me. I try keep my ‘wanting’ to simple things I'm actually allowed to have, like a cigarette, or a nap or… or a friend to fight off the loneliness.”

“...I think you should at least try to—”

“That’s not what she wants, so it doesn’t matter what I want.

…Besides, since when do you care about her? You wanted her gone just hours ago.”

“Well, if she’s important to you—”

“That's all that matters to you then? What about all the other lives you took? Would you still have taken my sister’s life if you had known me before then?

If we’d still never met, you never would have spent a second thought about Dee’s death or even mine.”

“I—…” Dave did regularly think about his third red-haired victim, actually…

Wait, ‘his’ death—?

“Or Pruny? You would have taken her without a second though if she wasn’t aubergine.”

“But she’s a different—!”

“She’s a child just like all the rest, Dave, no more, no less. In fact, she reminds me a hecking lot of Dee sometimes.”

That last sentence in particular was deeply unsettling to Dave. Empathizing wasn’t something that came naturally to Dave, so when Jack put it like that for him…

Not that Jack was faring any better himself. Not even Dave could accept his hypocrisy either—

“...”

“...”

Their words were starting to settle in the silent aftermath like dust. It… would seem the conversation was over now…

Jack had not-very-subtly turned to resume washing the last of the dishes. And a few seconds later, Dave also dismissed himself to the living room.

But Dave hadn’t made it as far as the dining table before the two instinctively turned their heads toward the direction of the front door as the doorbell chimed throughout the house.

“...Who the fuck would be…?”

Jack quickly dumped the plate back into the dishwater and wiped his wet hands on his shirt as he went to answer the door. And after a beat of considering it, Dave decided he should follow too.

The two walked past Pruny who was thankfully already fast asleep on her couch, drawing stuff left on the floor beside her. Dave stopped behind to pull her bunched up blanket over her.

Meanwhile Jack opened the door to reveal a sopping wet Phone Guy standing right before him.

(Chapter 15)->