#there won't be a place for them much longer

[4ng3ls-p4l4c3]

reasons i need to lose weight . . .

1 ) love the way i look

2 ) fit my clothes better

3 ) get more compliments on my outfits

4 ) have more variety for clothes

5 ) to have less of a box shape

6 ) won't get call "regular" or "standard"

7 ) to not feel addicted to sweets

8 ) to cleanse my insides

9 ) make it easier to eat healthy

10 ) build habits that make me a better person

11 ) feel more motivated to clean, take care of myself, etc

12 ) i'll be able to fit into all of my friends clothes

13 ) i won't look fat if i ask to eat out

14 ) no rolls when i sit

15 ) collarbones will stick out so far water can get stuck in them

16 ) thighs will no longer touch

17 ) won't sweat easily/as much

18 ) fell more comfortable in my own skin

19 ) i won't have an indent on my bed whenever i lay down

20 ) can get through small places easier

21 ) won't be scared to sit on someone/next to someone

22 ) to feel more light

23 ) not to take as much space up

24 ) be able to sit in the child position wo feeling fat 😭

25 ) nails to be blue, hands to be pale constantly

26 ) to look better in pajamas

27 ) no double chin

28 ) to look like the character i relate to

29 ) not to get as winded when going up stairs

30 ) to reach my full potential

i'll add to this whenever i find more reasons, i'm doing this for me. to love myself as much as i can.

[jazeswhbhaven]

hi!! can I request whb!kings ( and some nobles if you want ) reactions to a mc who says they love long-haired men?

Hi there!! I am feeling this request heavy because I too find long-haired men aesthetically pleasing to look at irl and fiction. Let's see what our kings think :P

Satan: He has long hair. It's fluffy, unruly at times and smells like cat fur, but it's still long. So when he hears MC going on and on about men with long hair, he's grabbing their hands and forcing them to pet his hair and play with it. I mean he's standing right there, might as well fulfill your desires MC....

Mammon: He hears that MC loves long-haired men and it brings him back to the time he had long hair, long and luxurious that he inherited from his father. Using his little Ai bots and a bit of magic, he creates a machine that can change your hairstyle in less than 5 minutes. And with that, his hair grows out past his shoulders, and MC is in awe. Leave it to Mammon to do anything for MC's attention.

Beelzebub: His hair is kinda long, but it's styled because he prefers it that way. But he starts to get testy about MC being around Bael because when he takes it down from being tied up, it's pretty damn long, he just never has time to cut it. Because of that, he may have cut Bael's hair while he was sleeping....that way MC won't have any distractions and can be reminded of Beel when he's away. It's a good thing the other nobles have short hair....

Leviathan: What's so good about long hair? It gets in the way, makes you look like a wild animal, and isn't very flattering at all. He's already upset with MC even mentioning others who have long hair and a particular devil comes to mind. Next thing you know, MC is noticing that Levi is letting his hair grow out. The other devils in Hades are now required to keep their hair at a certain length which is no longer than the bottom of their ear lobes.

Lucifer: His hair is kept at neck length because he prefers it that way, but can understand why MC likes long-hair. In fact, he mentions that Gamigin has long hair and that MC should go and braid it sometimes. Though, MC's point was to get Lucifer to try and grow out his hair longer, maybe past his shoulders. That won't ever happen, his hair would get caught in his open wound that still on his back and he can't have that.

Belphegor: He likes his hair medium length because it's less maintenance. He doesn't think he could ever deal with long hair because it would never be washed and get all messed up and greasy beyond repair. However, he's willing to put on a wig for MC because he can take that off easily, or just get Beleth to do it. But don't expect that wig to be in good condition after a couple days of him sleeping in it.

Asmodeus: His hair is so long it drags across the floor. So when MC mentions loving long-haired men he's front and center smothering them with his hair. He even asks MC if they would like it if he grew out his hair in other places too. Also he read their mind when they once thought about doing inappropriate things with his hair. He wants to try that out. Right now in fact.

NOBLES TIME~

Sitri: His hair is short now, so when he hears about MC having a thing for long-haired men, he's considering growing it out again. After a couple weeks his hair reaches his shoulders and it's fluffy and pretty. Everyone in the palace kept forgetting it was Sitri, and MC was running into things because they kept staring. He felt it was too much of a distraction so he cuts it. But it was fun while it lasted.

Zagan: This noble has such pretty silky hair, MC can't help but compliment him each time. Zagan doesn't have much to say, but here lately he's been using a different conditioner and shampoo and now his hair is even longer and shiny. He secretly hopes this gets MC to talk to him more.

Paimon: He always has his hair tied up in pigtails so when he reveals how long his hair is to MC, he's happy to hear that MC is impressed and wants to play with it often. Paimon even encourages MC to get extensions to match, because he also likes long-hair on potential suitors. Now they can matcchhhhhh <3

Bael: He's pretty pissed off that Beel cut his hair in the middle of the night, but at least now he looks even more similar to his annoying best friend. He always liked having his long hair tied back and even planned on growing it out more because he found out MC likes long-haired men. Now it's his chance again, at least his hair grows fast.

SURPRISE ITS RIN!!!~

When Jjok turns into his other form, his hair is long, pretty, and super red like his fur. It was merely a coincidence that MC happens to like men with long-hair so he brags about it whenever he gets the chance too. Imagine him, a simple red lump demon that can turn into a hottie with long-hair? He smiling and even bothering Lucifer about it too.

[demonic-intervention]

Tommy found her in his first year after becoming a fully fledged firefighter.

There's a fire at a wholesale market hall. It isn't big but all the products are ruined, the market is closed for the day. Obviously, the vendors aren't happy which complicates the firefighters' work. Tommy is doing one last sweep of the hall after getting into an argument with a particular pissed-off vendor.

That's when he hears it. At first, Tommy thinks it's the high pitch of a valve somewhere. But walking closer, he realizes those are meows.

There's a broken fish tank. The fish and the water went all over the place. And in the middle of this mess of shards and fish is a kitten. She is wet and oh so tiny. And probably scared for her life.

Tommy has no idea how she got here — she seems to be alone, no mama cat in sight — but he scoops her up without hesitation. Her meowing quiets down the moment she is cuddled against his chest, inside his jacket where it's warm and dry.

Back in the engine, Gerrard tells Tommy to hand the cat to animal control or whatever. Let them handle it. Tommy agrees — with no intention to do so.

He is lucky. It's the end of his shift so he takes her home. Watching her eating, he remembers how she sat in the middle of those fish and decides to call her Minnow.

~

Tommy gets home and drops dead on his bed, thinking how much he doesn't deserve this comfort after what he just did. Breaking up with Abby was the right thing to do but that doesn't change anything about how guilty he feels.

Minnow jumps on the bed and nudges Tommy's arm until he hugs her close. She's no longer a small kitten but she still acts like she's tiny despite being a fully-grown Maine Coon now. Tommy is defenseless to her charm.

And when she nuzzles into his chin and starts to purr, he thinks he might be able to heal someday. A new part of his life has just begun. Tommy lets himself get a little bit excited as he's petting her scruff.

~

The night at the bar was a flop. The first five guys who had shown interest Tommy had rejected immediately. The next few weren't his type or too shy to be a good idea. In the end, he had blown a guy in the bathroom just so the evening wouldn't be a total waste. It wasn't particularly good; it wasn't exactly bad either. All part of the process, he guesses.

Tommy smiles when he closes the door behind him. Minnow chirps and comes up to him. "Hi, precious," he says as she winds around his legs. She pushes her head into his hand, demanding head pats until she's satisfied. Then she sniffs his hand, pulls away in disgust, and walks away.

"So you don't like those guys either, huh?" Tommy jokes. At least he won't ever come home to an empty house as long as Minnow is by his side.

~

He feels absolutely miserable. The painkillers barely take the edge off. But one more day at the hospital and he would have gone insane.

The side where the shrapnel piece pierced him just a week ago hurts like hell. Tommy is happy once he finally gets himself settled semi-comfortably on his couch, although it makes him feel like he has just run a half marathon.

Tommy blindly fishes for a pillow and then wedges it underneath his head. He stares at the ceiling, just thankful for the familiar environment.

Minnow is staring at him from afar. When Tommy doesn't react to her chirps, she investigates. Agile as ever, she lands on Tommy's stomach, one paw punching his still bruised spleen.

"Ow," Tommy groans and curls to the side in pain before remembering how much that hurts. Tired, he lifts a hand to scratch her behind the ears.

"Did you miss your old man?" he asks. He has certainly missed her. His neighbor seems to have fed her well by the way she doesn't immediately beg for food by gnawing on Tommy's fingers.

Without a sound, Minnow plops herself down on Tommy's chest, right over the bandaged and healing wound. It hurts at first but then she starts to purr and all the tension begins to seep out of Tommy. He lays a hand on her back and cries, so happy to be home.

~

A familiar scene, though many many years later. Tommy throws his keys into the bowl by the door and heads straight for his bed where he flops down face first into the pillow that still smells like Evan. He inhales deeply, taking it all in and committing it to memory before the smell can fade away.

Tommy feels so thoroughly rotten. He doesn't understand how this evening could have taken such a turn so quickly but he should have seen it coming. He feels naïve and sad and guilty. But Evan will find someone else, someone better, and Tommy will get over it eventually, too. It will hurt and it will take time but it's not like he's never done it before.

The gutting work of rebuilding his confidence as if the situation didn't make him feel as inadequate and broken as it does. No one ever sees him for who he is. But he can't blame them. He can only blame himself for hoping things would be different this time.

Still, his heart aches. His whole body aches and longs for Evan.

Entering the bedroom, Minnow meows and nudges at his hand that is hanging off the bed. Electrified, Tommy snatches her up in an instant and lies down with her.

He holds her close until she settles down and drapes herself across his chest. Likely catching onto Tommy's distress, she starts to purr. It's as loud as his helicopter at take-off.

Tommy sighs, brushing over the length of her body. "Sorry, Minnow, I don't think purring can heal this wound."

[nosvq]

If they gonna mention Tommy name with that much of weight from Buck and showing us Buck situation after the break up in two episodes to only write him off and not having him back in the future, maybe you should reflect on your choice and writing then.Maybe put extra effort and time to write better story for all the main characters and emergencies.

Why bringing back a character that you put such an efforts to write, make him a love interest for your main character to the point of the word "love, marriage" is involved and very important in one season and leading the audience with how you want to make it something to expect us brush it off and move on because you suddenly think they don't have a forever specs and suddenly Tommy is that kind of guys with unresolved baggage and unable to just sit down and talk things through with Evan and running away without much explanation is the solution. Buck is typical Buck and you just let Buck be impulsive and rushed things like he did before.

What is the point having an older guy as a love interest if older mean running away because you know how things end. So an older guy which is a gay and has a complicated past and making himself a better human does not have an ability to talk and discuss things. Lol. Suddenly Tommy is in different place and time. Hehhh

Forever is now. You can literally wrote them having a serious relationship. This series won't go that much longer too. Season 9, 10 maybe 12. We don't know the future and the forever. It seemed to me they don't want to have Eddie and Buck in a very grounded and serious relationship unlike the other main characters. Eddie has his own issues and path they lay down for him. For Buck, even if they wanted that serious relationship, they're telling me Tommy Kinard is not forever specs. Lol

They literally have season 7 and episode 5 to show how important Tommy is and how this relationship can go into so deep and mentioning his name in episode 7 and 8 with that much of weight and showing how Buck is still thinking about him, craving for his presence in his life yet he has the ball to say all those words in his interview like he wasn't the one with the power to choose.

[karmaholik]

Suguru enters into the classroom with a sleepy greeting and is met with two wide-eyed stares. It was the morning after he got back from a particularly irritating mission. Not only did it take longer than expected, but the curse he was dealing with was just plain annoying.

 

It would have been fun if Satoru was with him like he was supposed to be, but Yaga had separated them as a punishment. So they were sent on solo missions apart.

 

"What?" He asks slowly as they continue to stare at him. He looks down at his uniform. Nothing seemed out of place. It's not like he showed up to class without pants. Though, Satoru would probably have enjoyed that. 

"What the fuck happened?" Satoru exclaims as he shoots out of his chair, it clatters to the floor at the force. He's rounding his desk and coming right for Suguru. The black-haired boy can only watch Satoru with confusion etched into his features. 

"Where did it go?" Satoru gestures to him wildly, looking a little frantic. Suguru just stares at him. What the hell is he going on about?

"He means your hair, dumbass." Shoko says as her teeth clack against the sucker she rolls around in her mouth. 

Oh. He forgot about that. 

"Ah, the curse got a chunk of it. It was this ball with a bunch of razor blades on it. I just cut the rest off for it to be even." He hears a sharp intake of breath from Satoru. His hand unconsciously goes up to tugs at the ends that now fall around his ears. 

It was much shorter now. Suguru didn't mind it. Sure, he liked it longer, but this was fine, too. His showers would be a lot shorter now. 

"Shoko, use your RCT to fix his hair!" Satoru demands, pointing to Suguru as he looks expectantly at her. She doesn't even blink.

"That's not how that works, idiot." She says blandly. It wasn't a big deal. Except it seemed to be that way to Satoru, who looked absolutely devastated as his gaze fell to the shorter black tresses. 

"Satoru," he calls out softly as he steps closer to the other boy. They are nose to nose, and Suguru gives him a smile as he brings his hands up to cup Satoru's face lovingly.

"It's just hair. It will grow back." He tries to sound reassuring. Satoru blinks rapidly, and Suguru notices his eyes looking glassy. 'Aw,' he thinks. 'How adorable.'

"But I liked it long." His mouth wobbles a bit, and Suguru can't help but coo at him. It was honestly so cute how upset Satoru is over his hair. He'll grow it out again and keep it long since Satoru seemed to like it so much. 

Satoru runs a hand through Suguru's hair with a pout. With a laugh at the other boy's actions, Suguru starts leaning in for a kiss.

"I swear, if you guys kiss in front of me, I won't heal you the next time you fuck up. I'll let you suffer." Suguru doesn't heed her warning and leans forwards anyways to press a kiss to Satoru's pouty lips. Oh well, guess he'll suffer. 

[crisiscutie]

The reunion at hand may bring us joy. Pt 1

Pairing: "Fluffy" Sephiroth/Pregnant Darling

A wee distant prequel in the alternate Domestic AU, back when Darling was still on the run from Yandere Sephiroth with the boys.

You gently touched your slightly swollen belly, shaking your head as you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror. There was no denying it now - you were pregnant with your fourth child. This revelation shouldn't have come as a surprise. Something had to result out of those nightly passionate sessions you had with Sephiroth months ago.

Yet with the familiar symptoms and signs, you had acted like nothing was different since you and the boys went on the run. Now that your baby bump had begun to form, ignoring your greatest worry was no longer an option. You covered your eyes and let out a soft sob as you anxiously deliberated your next steps.

You could should be able to handle this one. After all, ten years ago, you had been pregnant with triplets. One more child in the picture was no problem.

But you couldn't even bring yourself to explain to your precious boys why you all had to leave that fateful day. The horrifying atrocities and the true monster their father had become were things they shouldn't and couldn't comprehend. So how the hell could you explain to them that you're pregnant while being on a special mother-sons expedition, celebrating your degradation mysteriously curing itself? The boys were already concerned when you had bouts of morning sickness, but you diverted their attention by promising to take them to the Gold Saucer, since they had begged to visit while you guys were traveling through Corel. They're smart like Sephiroth, though. You won't be able to hide this from them for long. Maybe you could tell them at the Gold Saucer during a quiet moment? You pulled your wool sweater down and slipped your black jacket on for even more cover. It's bad enough being an ex-SOLDIER on the run with three kids. No need to make it obvious that you're a pregnant ex-SOLDIER on the run with three kids.

When you were about to leave the restroom, you heard a groan of distress from behind. You turned around and came face to face with a woman dressed in tattered black robes. She looked to be on the edge of death. Her lifeless, baggy eyes, sickly complexion, and brittle hair nearly sent you into a panic. She reminded you far too much of yourself when you were afflicted with degradation. She stumbled towards you, losing her balance. You immediately reached out and caught her, allowing her to rest her head on your shoulder.

"Miss... are you okay?" you whispered. You couldn't resist the instinctive desire to hold her tightly, as if she were a precious jewel that needed safeguarding. Maybe it was just your natural empathy and decency for a fellow human. Or it's just your pathetic projection.

You tried to support her upright, but in a swift second, the woman summoned all her strength to push you against the bathroom wall, her small form transforming into the towering visage of your dear husband, Sephiroth.

In a slow, robotic movement, he lifted his head from your shoulder. His fuming, slit pupils locked with yours, devoid of the soft, almost-catlike gaze he once wore. Instead, there was only the stare of a snake watching its prey.

He cupped your chin. "You dare to run away? With my children? After all I've done for you. For them," he hissed. You couldn't respond. Were you already beginning to lose your mind? How did he know your location? How is here? As he caught the flicker of fear and shock in your eyes, his slit pupils constricted. Following this, he sneered and slid his gloved hand down your body, opening the jacket and lifting the wool sweater to expose your slightly swollen belly.

"I will reclaim what's mine," he declared, his gloved hand resting on your belly. These were his final words before the robbed woman retook her place. She groaned in your ear once again. A nurse burst into the room and quickly approached the two of you. She pulled the robbed woman away from you.

"Excuse her. She's not feeling well because of the mako poisoning!" the nurse hastily explained to you, shortly lecturing the robbed woman afterwards. You stifled a gasp at them before fast walking out of the restroom. Your gaze darted up and down the streets, clutching your bag close to you.

Fuck. Fuck. The boys. Where are they!? You all can't afford to stick around much longer. But you don't see them anywhere! They should've been here, waiting outside of the bathroom as you ordered. Your panic increased tenfold when you rushed down the dusty road, seeing the bodies of dead Shinra grunts scattered about. You forced your head to keep looking forward, not even noticing the black feathers on some bodies.

Time passed slowly until you found a platform with a gondola, hoping your boys were near since you quietly searched everywhere else. You then heard the familiar whisper of Kadaj calling out to you from behind.

"Mother, we're over here!" He said. They were hiding in small bins, with a white lid over their heads nearby an abandoned clinc.

"What happened?" You asked.

"We don't know... Those men were running after us, so we hid in these bins when they lost sight of us," Yazoo explained. The three came out, their hair and clothing a bit rustled, but no signs of physical injury. But their eyes said it all. They were shaken. Afraid. All supposedly under your watch. Poor Loz was crying silently, keeping his hand over his mouth to keep quiet. You ruffled his hair, giving him an apologetic gaze.

The three hugged boys hugged you tightly, afraid to let you go. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't left you three alone..." You said. Kadaj lifted his head, about to say something before the sight of your uncovered pregnant belly caught his attention. The other two followed after, their fearful gaze turning into utter confusion and curiosity.

Shit. Of course you didn't bother to fix yourself up after that bathroom encounter with Sephiroth. "Boys... I-"

"They can't be far! Split up and search the alleys!" a voice from a distance ranged out, with a tone you recognized to certainly belong to a grunt captain. With quick thinking, you ushered the boys into the nearby gondola and closed the door.

"We'll discuss this later. Just stay quiet for Mother please..." you uttered, maneuvering to the controls. Your sweet triplet boys nodded, immediately sitting down and observing you silently. Thank the planet that they knew when to get serious and follow directions. But alas, mayhap this be evidence of them growing up too fast. Any other child at their age would still be shaken, frantically asking questions, begging for assurance. Just how much more horrors did they witness in your absence?

You slapped the control panel in frustration, which seemed to make it work. The gondola creaked and drifted along the cable lines. You peeked out of the tinted window, seeing more Shinra troops scouting the streets. Thankfully, no one seemed focused on the gondola. You sighed in relief and wiped your forehead as you sat down, sitting opposite of the triplets.

They were still staring at you, their intense catlike pupils constricting as the silence persisted. It was too difficult for you to not think of Sephiroth at this moment. This peculiar aura was all too familiar. Each one was so so similar to him, in each and every way.

Your lips curved into a forced grin, as you leaned forward, talking in your light tone.

"You know, this itinerary of Corel told me about a very special attraction nearby." The boys broke out of their peculiar observant trance, their slit pupils now dilating in anticipation as they leaned forward themselves, meeting you with excitement.

"I-Is it the gold saucer?" Loz asked. You nodded.

"Mhmm!" I was thinking, 'Maybe we could go there sooner.' What do you boys think?" The boys collectively hollered in excitement, littering you in gratitude and requests to go to a specific attention first. You chuckled, sitting back and watching them argue with each other about who gets to where first. Good thing you got them focused on something else for now.

Though your amusement ended quickly when you spotted a black feather stuck in the window's crevice, reminding you of your duty...

Oh, why can't something be easy for once?

[translatemunson]

file 002 — brand new bar, same old problems

chapter two of death defying acts

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

cw: MDNI thank you, fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader (i'm really trying to keep my descriptions of her and her background to a minimum so i can be inclusive to all people, but let me know if i can improve), no use of y/n, reader has a call sign (i had to pick one, it makes sense for the story), innacuracies about the navy, topgun and army (i did my best guys), this takes places after the events of the movie, yes don't kill me but reader has a fling with another aviator won't say who, implied smut.

If surviving Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and the Dagger Squad would be required for you to be sent overseas, you were not sure there was gonna be a lot of you left to fit in a plane seat.

In just two days and one quick chat with Maverick, you had to recognize there was no easy task in front of you. Maverick didn’t show any enthusiasm in your work or questions on that quick meeting, which was somewhat discouraging. You had been spending your morning reviewing previous logs of all of the fighter pilots, your afternoons watching them live on radar, taking notes of their data, style and skills, your evenings analyzing all of your notes and coming up with plans for the simulation.

You were in bed way past your normal schedule on Saturday morning. Your belongings would definitely sit on boxes for another week or two if you didn’t do anything regarding it. You had the essentials out — uniforms, underwear, laptop, hygiene products, and a picture of you with your parents —, but that was it. Even your kitchen was getting appliances as you started to need them.

You grabbed a clean change of clothes, your bag and headed out to do groceries and get your mind out of work. There were a lot of things to get done before you were back to base on Monday: firstly you needed some real food in your fridge, including new tea blends and pasta for when you’re too tired to cook anything that takes longer than 20 minutes. Then you had to pick up more pills for your headache. Maybe some flowers for your living room would make the place livable — and also push you to unpack a few boxes with your books and portraits.

Also you had to call your parents and brief them on your first days. Well, maybe that was easier said than done: while you couldn’t share much details about what you were doing, you knew they were ready to pull some interrogation tactics or whatever to get all the intel. Your father was the one helping you with the moving — because he was free in between flight classes —, but your mom was the one texting people to know why now they wanted to transfer you to San Diego.

Once the call sign Maverick was brought to the table, your father did all he could to get you another opening somewhere else. And as soon as you got the bigger picture of why you were being moved to work with Maverick and his team, the puzzle made sense. Even though they were successful on their mission, they had one more challenge ahead, and there was no margin for errors or close calls for this one — you were gonna receive more information about it after the first few weeks.

Maverick and the Dagger Squad were definitely a lot to deal with. Excellent pilots, an amazing sense of a team — maybe almost being killed does this to a group —, but you could see some flaws slipping through the cracks of their personalities. Maverick still hated authority and being told to follow orders. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin — not Bagman, unfortunately — could be a team player only if that benefited him, otherwise his wingman was the first to go down during training. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace was an excellent pilot, and Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd as her WSO was a great combo, but if paired with someone else, it was a hit or miss — you asked to change pairings on Friday morning, just to check if there was margin for new combos. Reuben ‘Payback’ Fitch and his WSO, Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia, were also a great combo, but they needed a strong flight leader to shine and succeed. Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado was a good pilot, but only on good days — and that was something you couldn’t risk on a mission. And Bradshaw was living for his call sign Rooster, even though he had amazing decision making skills, he was always waiting for the last second to make a move. And that, in the field, meant death.

And those were just a few observations you could get from a few hours in front of the radars and live data from their training exercises. 

You went through your shopping list in no time, stopping for headache meds and some flowers just after you got lunch. Back at your one bedroom apartment, you, once again, found an excuse to avoid a Facetime call with your parents, but you made sure to text them some pictures of your progress — and thank your dad for finding a good place for you to stay, a 20 minutes drive from the base, and also in a walking distance of the Golden Hill Park.

Clothes on drawers and hangers, cutlery in the right places, uniforms in the washer, books in the shelves. You were slowly bringing together the sense of home to San Diego. Your last few weeks in Nevada were crazy: you were back from one deployment in the Pacific just to be called for another quick job in Alaska. Thankfully your dad had a few weeks off to go to Nevada and help you pack, driving all your stuff three days before your arrival and saying he would take care of housing. All you had to do was sign a few papers, pack the stuff you could send ahead and get ready for a quick stop up north.

The sun was setting when you realized you were almost done with things. Maybe you should let some for Sunday, so you could also keep your mind off of work. You got up from your bedroom floor, took a long shower and checked your messages.

On Friday, you were able to catch up with Bob over lunch, asking him about his journey after training. You also got close to Phoenix, kinda relieved she was just as nice as you remembered. You got their numbers, they got yours, and that’s how you end up with an invite to join them at a bar called Hard Deck in an hour. If you were gonna be around for at least ten weeks, you might as well do something else besides working.

 So you went through your clothes, searching for a black top, some jeans and a jacket for when it got chiller from the autumn air. Just some casual clothes to share a few beers and a few more stories. Still getting used to San Diego streets and skyline, you drove like you weren’t in no rush to get to the bar, appreciating the change of scenery from the desert to the beachside.

You parked outside the Hard Deck just a few minutes late. For a Saturday evening, the place was pretty packed, and you could see some clients were proud to walk around in their work khakis — something you avoided as much as you could. After all, you were just a few minutes away from the station. Texting Bob back to ask him if they were already there, you didn’t even hit send before you were able to pick your new colleagues amidst the crowd.

Nat was holding a pool cue on the side of her body, explaining something to Mickey and Bob. Hangman and Coyote were trying to impress some ladies on the darts board — and you were very sorry for those two poor souls, if they knew everything you’ve been hearing while on duty. You stopped by the bar, getting yourself some bar soda and starting a tab.

“You’re sure I can’t fix you anything else?” The lady behind the bar asked you.

“I’m good for now.” And then you turned to your colleagues and thought better, “Do you happen to remember what they’re getting?” You pointed to them.

“Sure thing, they’re just having beers. Are you friends with the Daggers?”

“Not exactly,” you watched her grab six bottles, serve some ice in the bucket and hand it to you. “I was relocated here to work with them. I know Bob and Phoenix from previous training, but that’s about it.”

“Oh, so you’re part of Maverick’s team?” She definitely knew them, not just because they would be spending their down time on Hard Deck.

“I’m part of the Intelligence Team working with them.” It didn’t get easier every time you talked about it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Penny, honey. Well, let me know once you decide to try something else.”

“Thank you, Penny.”

You took the drinks with you to the high top table just on the side of their pool table. Your upbeat spirit died down as soon as you realized Bradshaw was there. After being lectured about Maverick and Goose, Bradley’s father, you weren’t looking forward to tolerating him outside of work. His short temper and slow decision making was something that got on your nerves easily. But you should’ve expected this, since he’s a long time friend with Nat.

“Look who’s out of that desk, guys.” And unfortunately, Hangman was the one to announce your presence. “I thought you were the type to wear your uniform everywhere since you’re a goody-two-shoes, Hyde.”

“Unlike you, Seresin, I have a life and personality outside of base.” You pointed to his khakis. “And don’t worry, I’m not writing down your lack of hobbies, outside women and pissing others off of course. I could already tell that based on your flight maneuvers.”

“Looking forward to reading the file you’re writing about me.” He reached for a beer, and you rolled your eyes. “Thanks, honey.”

“I’ll be surprised if you can actually read,” you bit back. “But I’m not here to work. And these beers are a peace offering. I’m not the enemy.”

“So you just like to point out our weaknesses for fun.” Mickey approached you, but you could tell it was more of a lighthearted comment than a critique. “Thanks, Hyde.”

“Thank me next week when you ace the mission simulation.”

You passed them their beers. There was only one left, but since Bradley was more concerned with his pool game than a beer, you moved the bucket aside and turned to Bob, asking “Is this every Navy favorite place to go?”

“Kinda. It’s close to base, and the service is nice and fairly priced.” Bob looked at his water. “How long have you been here?”

“I arrived this week. My father helped me move, but I had zero time to wander around.” But who’s fault was that? Definitely yours. “They are a tough crowd, I fear.”

“Don’t worry, they eventually warm up to strangers,” he explained. “We’re still fresh from last mission, and fresh blood always disturbs a little of a group’s balance.”

“I guess I would know that if I worked closely with fighter pilots,” you confessed. “Most of my missions consist of assisting with data and probabilities when tracing plans and assessing risks. Sometimes I don’t even know who is receiving my reports.”

“But you’ve been training with pilots, right?”

“No real missions, just simulations, mostly with graduates from Top Gun back in Fallon.” This job could be the perfect blend of what you’re good at and your passion, but even though you had extensive training with Air missions, you were stuck with assessing risks for admirals and captains to take charge. “It’s my first real chance to be on a mission where I’m able to build a relationship with the people I’m working with, not just being briefed on the mission and its goals.”

“I see. Yeah, I believe you’re gonna do a great job, not just because I know you, but because there’s still room for improvement and you’re gonna be the key for it.” Bob tried to cheer you up, and even though you wanted to believe his words, the first few days were tough on you.

“Thanks, Bob. But I’ve meant it when I said I’m not here to work,” you laughed, leaving the pressure of your relocation for another time.

“So you better start sharpening your pool skills, Hyde.” Natasha passed you her pool cue and smiled. “Do you even play it?”

“Who do you think I am, Phoenix?” You gasped, as if her words were the biggest betrayal you ever faced. “It’s been a minute since I last played, tho.”

“It’s ok, you don’t need to be good at everything you do, you know.” She joked. “Ok, cutthroat rules. You, me and Rooster.” 

She reseted the table as she explained how it was going to work: she was protecting balls 1 to 5, you were in charge with 6 to 10, Rooster had 11 to 15 to himself. The goal was to pocket any opponent's balls while protecting yours. If a foul occurred, the other players had the right to place a ball back at the table.

Natasha breaks, and one of hers was pocketed right away. On her shot, she aimed for the 7-ball, but it lacked strength to send your ball to the pocket. You took a look at the table, spotting a chance to pocket the 12-ball. You walked to the other side, passing just inches away from Bradshaw, and sending his ball to the pocket. He looked unimpressed when you checked for his reaction. You tried to get one of Nat ball’s, but you picked the wrong angle.

Bradshaw fixed his sunglasses on the neck of shirt, assessed the table and went for the 8-ball. Everyone was tied on losses. He sent the 1 straight to the pocket. His third shot scratched the 6-ball and moved it to a dangerous spot, and you held your breath.

“Don’t worry, I’m on your side,” Natasha aimed for the 15-ball and sent it straight to the corner pocket. But it was still a risky position for your 6-ball, and you watched when she pocketed that one as well. “I mean, I took one of his first, which makes us even, right?”

“That’s not what I’ve learned on Math 101, but ok.” You shook your head. “What are you gonna do next?”

“I’m gonna,” she elongated her words, “maybe this one,” she pointed to the 5-ball, “or a small challenge with the 14.” She positioned herself, and missed the latter for a lot. “Your shot, Hyde.”

You sent the 14-ball straight into the pocket, then missed your shot. Bradley took the 3-ball out, followed by the 10, and missed the 7. Nat got the 9-ball, then missed. You tunnel vision on the 13, in the middle of the table, with a huge chance of error. The white ball hit all the wrong corners and you miss it. And it got the white one on the perfect spot to send your last ball to the pocket.

“It was nice playing with you, fellas.” You turned over your cue and crossed your arms, destiny sealed since Bradshaw was a way better player than you. You watched the 7-ball disappear inside the pocket. 

“Wait, Hyde, someone could get a foul, and you can come back,” Nat tried to pull you back to the table.

“I’m good with my loss, don’t worry. I’m not leaving, just wanna get something from the bar.” You took the now empty bucket — did Bradshaw get his beer or someone stole it? — to the bar and returned it to Penny.

“How is it going?” She smiled and motioned her head to the group.

“Could be worse. Can I have a tequila shot?”

“Sure, honey.” Penny checked something under the bar. “Is house tequila ok?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Can you get me one water and two more beers as well?”

“Coming right up.”

You took your phone of your pocket, and checked your messages: you were setting the family group chat aside for tomorrow morning; Lisa, your roommate from Fallon, was sharing updates on the gossip you were missing — not even three days and they didn’t failed to surprise you — while in San Diego; Ashton, still unaware of your transference, was asking if you were free. Yeah, things would never change.

“Here.” She laid your order on the counter. “I know you’re an Officer, but do you happen to have a call sign?”

“It’s more common to hear people calling me by it than my own name,” you shared, and she laughed. “It’s Hyde, a character from a gothic novel.”

“Oh, I believe I’ve read this book in high school.” She pressed her lips together and stared at you, like she was trying to put the pieces together. “Do you need some lime and salt for the shot?”

“No, not really.” Maybe not a smart idea since you’re driving, but that was the Hyde in you: nice face, good manners, but short tempered and always down to some trouble. “Thanks, Penny.”

You balanced your shot and the water in one hand, held the two beers in the other and moved carefully between the crowd to your friends. Back to the pool table, you watched Rooster send Nat’s last ball to the pocket.

“Oh no! And I thought you were each other's lucky charm,” you pointed out between her and Bob. You sat by her WSO’s side and passed him a water. “Or do you want a beer?”

“Water’s fine, thanks,” he offered you some nuts, and you gladly took a few.

“Here, a consolation prize for you.” You slid a beer for Nat as soon as she joined the table. You looked over her shoulder, seeing Bradshaw walking to the piano. “Is he always like that?”

You looked over your shoulder to Bradshaw. He carried a lot of resemblances to his parents — you could tell after hours looking through your parents’ photos, and seeing Goose and Carole in a few, with a kid Bradley closer. This was way before you were transferred to San Diego or decided to join the Navy.

You thought Bradshaw was just like you, until your father told you what happened to him. Father died after a failed ejection, his mom died of cancer, Maverick pulled his papers and set him back. You felt sorry about it, but if he was raised by Pete Mitchell after all of that, you were expecting to meet the younger version of the captain.

“Give him some time, Rooster is not much of a fan of changes,” she explained.

“As long as this doesn’t interfere with my job, I’m ok with not being friends with everyone.” You drank the tequila shot without making an ugly face, and quickly moved to your beer.

“Do you happen to know anything about our next mission?” Nat asked.

“I’m afraid I’m just as in the dark as you,” you shook your shoulders. “I know about the uranium mission though, which was pretty dangerous. I would’ve done a thing or two differently.”

“What exactly?”

“I mean, they could’ve timed the missiles to hit a few SAMs as you were leaving the valley, and make your way out of there smoother.” They were already flying a dangerous zone on less powerful planes, and exposed the hell of their jets, so not having at least a few bombs to help out was a little dumb.

“You’re kinda right,” Bob threw another nut inside his mouth. “Do you think they considered it?”

“Nah, I bet 20 bucks Admiral Simpson was looking for an opportunity to get rid of Maverick.” You took a sip of your beer.

“That’s cruel. But hey, if you have the chance to make our mission less dangerous, you have my approval.” Nat smiled.

“I’ll remember that.”

“Hey, have you always been part of Intelligence?”

You and Bob shared a look. “No, I joined the Navy after graduating from college. My parents are from the Navy, and they gave me the chance to choose. So education, then enlisting. My records say I graduated from Flight School because I completed the training successfully, but I got in an accident during the last week. Then, because of my college degree, they gave me a spot as part of the Intelligence, and I liked it there.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your accident. I bet you miss being in the sky sometimes.”

“Thanks, Nat. My dad is a flight instructor nowadays, and everytime we’re in the same base, he finds a way to let me fly for a few minutes.”

“So you’ve been keeping your flight skills in check? Why don’t you apply to Top Gun?” Bob inquired.

“I really don’t see myself doing what you guys do on a daily basis,” another sip, waiting for them to be convinced. You were way past that Top Gun chance now, anyway.

“A pretty thing like you fits better as a Top Gun pilot's wife,” Hangman came up to the table, a beer in hand.

“I rather crawl naked over hot tarmac than date an aviator, Bagman.” Maybe if the aviator wasn’t part of your team, but just maybe. “You guys are just trouble. Can’t keep your missiles in your pants, and flee as soon as possible.”

“You’re funny, Hyde,” he pointed his beer’s neck at you.

“Don’t let it fool you, Hangman, they don’t call her Hyde for nothing,” Bob warned him.

“Don’t have a lot of Jekyll going on, hun?”

“Oh god, you’re insufferable,” Nat exited the table as fast as she could.

“No wonder those girls left you hanging on the darts,” it was kinda undeniable that there was some tension in the air.

“If you’d excuse me, I think it’s the perfect time to call my girlfriend.” And Bobby was smart to take his cue to leave you two alone. He motioned to his phone, and you noticed the picture on the wallpaper: the WSO with his arms around a beautiful girl. But she didn’t look like anyone you’ve seen around at base so far.

“Needs babysitting, Bob?” Hangman teased.

“Should I remind you who fell for the feral koalas story, Seresin?” Bob biting back? That was a first for you.

You looked between the two men, intrigued.

“Go talk about pandas or whatever, Floyd.” Jake waved his hand.

“See you later, Hyde.” Bob walks to the external deck, phone in his ear.

“What did he mean with feral koalas?” You inquired.

“His lady is Australian, and one time she told us about how koalas got a disease and were attacking people, and she sounded very scared.”

“And you believed it?”

“I mean, there was a lady in distress!”

“Jeez, we should legally change your call sign to Himbo.”

“Him-what?”

You laughed and stared at Jake, “I’m dead serious about not dating aviators, tho.”

“Who said anything about dating?”

One thing led to another. Coyote left the bar with a girl on his side, Hangman was left without a ride. You offered to drive him there, since it was on your way home, but you were none the wiser after a tough week and a few tequila shots.

When the sun started to peak over the waves, you were far away from Jake’s bed and still very much sure of your promise. You were in San Diego with one goal and one goal only: earn that promotion. And nothing or anyone was stepping into your way.

a/n: hello aviators! first of all, thank you SO MUCH for the support on the first chapter. yes, i wrote what i wrote and i don't regret it (hyde hooking up with hangman, but it was mostly implied so don't worry, it's almost like it didn't happened haha). also even tho we know who the daggers are, hyde is still getting to know them, i couldn't pass on a hard deck introduction scene (top gun: maverick movie style!). well, let me know what you guys think about this chapter, don't forget to reblog, vote and comment! see ya soon!

[ryuzakemo128]

Grim Reaper Part Nine

Pairing: Poly 141 x female reader / Female reader/ You x Her mental health x König

Content Warnings: Violence, bloodshed, injuries, Premeditated murder on the brain (Female Reader), swearing.

Words: 756

Note: Sorry for a short one. Wanted to get this one out. Next one will be longer I promise.

Masterlist - Prequel - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine

Supernatural AU — Poem

Credit for Dividers:@cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Summary: Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to anybody else? That I have fallen for a lie. You were never on my side.  Fool me once, fool me twice. Are you death or paradise?

Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to anybody else? That I have fallen for a lie. You were never on my side.  Fool me once, fool me twice. Are you death or paradise?

Was I the problem? Did I do something to make you hate me so much? 

Why didn’t you just leave me instead of lying so many times to my face?

Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to anybody else? 

I hope you rot in this hell you have made yourself. It’s my last gift I will give to you.

You knew how my life was before I met you. Yet you still did this to me. 

Cold. Calculated. That is all you will ever be.

If I had the power to curse you. I would have done it long ago. 

Once I leave this house, this country all over again. Do yourself a favour. Stay away from me.

Stay far, far away from me.

Otherwise, I can and most absolutely will kill you myself.

If you wish to keep your life.

Stay in your country and I will stay in mine.

I don’t want to be pushed into a corner. But you keep being adamant on doing so.

Don’t blame me when I bite you. Blame yourself for ignoring the warning signs.

You are the reason we are no longer married. Take accountability for your actions and shut the fuck up. 

König. You still don’t know if that’s his actual name or just simply a call sign. He never told you either way. 

But what does it matter? 

The man who had once been the epitome of comfort and support in your life had become a shadow of his former self. The trust that had once been as solid as steel between you had been shattered into a million pieces.

Leaving a gaping chasm of doubt and anger in its place. 

The coldness in his eyes, the way he looked at you now, it was like you were nothing but a stranger to him. 

Someone who had merely crossed his path at the wrong time.

"I will leave, and you won't see me again." you snarl, getting up to get your things.

König remains seated, his expression unreadable. "Reaper, I know you're upset, but we need to talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about. You chose to cheat. You made that choice. Suffer the consequences. I'm not the one who needs to explain anything. You're the one who broke our vows.” 

“My life is in my hands. I will not become who you are.” You told him. Your knuckles turning white from the way you turned your hands into fists. You were so tired of the kind of excuses coming from the mouths of men who neither cared nor wanted you around. 

You weren’t going to let König know you again. To choose death than suffer through his presence a second time. It made so much sense to you. You do enough talk. What did you learn from your mistakes? Did you even learn from them at all? 

If he can’t see it. May he drown inside his endless well of pitiful tears. 

You are not his wife, his friend, his punching bag. The call sign ‘Grim Reaper’? You earned it for a reason. Too bad he’s too blind to see it. 

What has eyes but cannot see? 

Escape.

Escape and run faster than he can hope to catch up. 

If he can’t take the hint, then…..you would have to kill him yourself.

Can’t be too hard to kill a six-foot ten adult man, right?

You can hear the shouting between him and his girlfriend. A sickening, twisted grin spreads across your face. Sweet revenge for the child you lost years ago.  Weight began to lift from your shoulders. It wasn’t over by a long shot. But now you know how to twist the knife to get what you wanted in order to leave. 

To head back home where you felt like you belonged completely. 

Home. Your home. 

The one where you don’t have to hide from broken bottles, yelling, shouting, endless need to feel like you have to explain yourself. 

Could it still be there when you go back? Will it still be there now?

[leandra-kinard]

Okay, to play 'devil's advocate' here a little and add some nuance (while definitely not condoning any of the tone-deaf, entitled behavior!).

There IS some merit in stories where people who previously thought they were straight figure out they're not. We had that with Buck; we previously had that with Michael. I personally know a man whose story was very similar to Michael's. So that part is not necessarily NOT gay culture, because it does happen often. People 'see the light' at 30, 40, even 50 and finally find out who they are.

I've often read people say (especially in regards to Eddie) "this, the comphet behavior, is what I did before I dared to admit to myself I'm bi/gay/a lesbian." So there's a natural and non-harmful projection of these kinds of valid queer experiences onto these characters.

Then there's also the slow burn aspect of it, the "will they, won't they" and "there's something there that could very well be more than platonic, these two idiots just haven't figured it out yet."

When it comes to stories and storytelling, there's an appeal to that. It's a very common trope in straight couples too, to have them only realize their romantic feelings a long, long time into their platonic/professional relationship. So why should that not happen with two people of the same gender?

Now this is where it gets a bit complicated, because it presumes a concept that is not necessarily wrong, but can be a little naive and unrealistic, namely the "gender doesn't matter, sexual orientation doesn't matter, this is about two souls falling in love". This isn't something that never happens in reality either, but its framing as a "one in a million exception" is the unrealistic part. There's no "straight with one exception"; discovering and experiencing actual attraction to someone of the same gender does make you no longer straight, and it means you never were straight.

I guess especially younger people cannot always fully grasp these nuances between what does happen in reality and what is a naive fairytale concept that essentially erases bisexuality.

I think it's unfair to say or imply that shipping Buddie is inherently or frequently (seriously) homophobic, or that it comes from a place of not liking gay men. Many of us who ship Bucktommy now used to ship Buddie because we did see the appeal and did see a potential (to a point; for me, in hindsight, that point was probably somewhere in s6 where it became no longer realistic for Eddie to have a gay awakening. A bi one maybe, but I am 99.9% convinced that ship has now definitely sailed. Then again, with some of the inconsistent writing, who the hell even knows what Tim decides? lol)

So, when people say, they don't want another story where someone already knows they're not straight that's also not per se wrong, imho. The phrasing in the above screenshot is definitely insensitive and tone-deaf and requires much more added context to make clear you don't mean it against established gay characters, you just mean it as a plea for coming out/figuring out one's sexuality arcs. Which is something I and many other queer people I know have said before. We want to see the epiphany, the struggle, the process of acceptance because that is something many of us did go through. To experience that with two characters we love could have felt very rewarding and validating.

To say this generally comes from a place of homophobia (while certainly some things that have been said and posted by the most toxic BoBs over the past half year WERE going in that direction!) also erases those queer experiences and feelings.

TL;DR: There are many queer experiences and view points that are all equally valid, and they could be expressed in various types of queer stories in fiction. Buddie as a slow burn and realizing one's sexuality later in life story would have been one valid version of the queer experience. Wanting Buddie is not per se the problem. The problem lies in invalidating the Bucktommy type of queer experience, especially Tommy's side. And the problem lies in entitled, rude and tone deaf behavior online. In my opinion.

I just think we, the Bucktommy shippers, should not fall into the trap of doing as was done to us by framing the other ship as inherently problematic (though calling out individual instances of problematic behavior and wording is valid! And the above are definitely examples of that). We can be better than that and recognize that many queer experiences and views are valid and can co-exist. The BoBs are the ones who cannot do that.

the more and more time i spend on tumblr and come across insane Buddie takes and behavior, the more and more i am convinced that the small, vocal, toxic subsection of shippers who don't know how to behave are, how shall i say it?

homophobic

they don't seem to actually like gay men. the situation with richard siken is an example of that. what they appear to like is their made-up version of what gay men are like and what they do. there's no concept of nuance or an actual understanding of queerness that informs their ship.

and i don't think you do need to understand it. sometimes you can just enjoy something without looking into it differently. but if you're going to be out on main talking about Buddie this and Buddie that, then you absolutely need to do the bare minimum and inform yourself on gay culture and gay issues so you don't, you know, go after a gay poet because you didn't like his tone.

sorry, there's a reason gay men of his demographic don't take shit. it's because they took so much shit that a large percentage of them died. the ones that survived don't owe you a tone when you act like an idiot.

the internet is free. wikipedia is free.

use a search engine and educate yourself, just a tiny little bit, and stop fetishizing while holding onto homophobic attitudes

[icewindandboringhorror]

Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)

[emiliosandozsequence]

have Barely read this week bc of all the fucking doctor's appointments i've had to go to rip

[iinterstellars]

BOOM. the sound echoes in his mind and for a moment he's confused because... it just can't be real, right? there's no way, they are SAFE here in elysium. he knows that to be true. there's a beat of silence, everyone frozen in place before they start pushing past him, trying to take a look and figure out what's going on. " i don't know... it sounded like a-... " he tries to reply to defne as he takes a few steps away from her to see what it is, but then a second sound follows, closer this time. whoever got to the window first, he doesn't know who it is, can't see. but it's a feminine voice. ' there's people outside, they blew the gate. ' they quickly say and thomas PALES for a moment. of course; with all the danger the apocalypse brings, and being in their safe haven. they had forgotten that OTHER PEOPLE are as much of a menace as everything else. ' they seem to have weapons... ' it's right then that the panic starts, people crowd around him and despite his size he can't seem to push past with everyone scrambling to get to safety. he tries to remain calm but he can't see defne anymore. " defne! " he calls out, there's a little tremble in his voice but he's trying his BEST to keep composed. he can feel some people looking at him. no doubt trying to gauge his reaction to see how they should react and he can't allow himself to let them panic too. meredith manages to grab his wrist and pulls him out of his trance. " remember we've planned for this. go out there with the rest of the guards. intimidate them, they're probably trying to take over this place, we can't let that happen. " brilliant meredith always had a plan, he feels grateful for her foresight but still he looks around trying to find defne again, he thinks he sees her getting out of the room; but he can't be sure and he DOESN'T have the time to go check. meredith seems to read his mind. " i'll make sure she and everyone else is safe, just go. " he presses his lips together in a thin line and nods, walking to the other side of the group and into a different room where the people in charge of security are gathered. ethan hands him a gun and it feels so foreign in his hands that he frowns. ' only in case you need it ' the other man says and he hopes he won't have to. he doesn't think he'd be able to use it anyways. thomas is NOT a fighter and he's sure everyone here knows it... but the others don't. he's big and muscular, and that's somehow intimidating. as he follows behind the rest, he sincerely wishes that's enough. specially since the ONLY PERSON on his mind is no longer in the same space as he is.

defne's breathing quickens far too often around thomas . not just from the alcohol or the borderline-lewd conversation . he has a way with words . he says enough but not enough . he rides the line well . even when he's teaching her how to do something , it's like he inherently TRUSTS her . he'll never overdo it , or treat her like a baby or silly girl . he sees people - DEFNE - as his equal . her mind tries not to ring on him correcting her again , mentioning that he's NOT necessarily a missionary guy . she tries not to think about her on his lap , his arms covering her and holding her , all muscles tensed . she swallows again and breaks her gaze from his for once .

it doesn't matter though . none of it does . because he puts his warm large hand on the small of her back as she coughs and she wants to lean into it, yet far away from it . IT'S TERRIFYING . there's barely any weight to it , yet defne could fall right through the ground . it reminds her of all the times they've grazed hands while working . it's maybe her only and most prominent downfall . she can memorise things , but as soon as thomas is there , she falls apart because all she can focus on is HIM . " a car . " she repeats , through her coughs . her eyebrows are raised so high that she wouldn't be surprised they're hidden by her bangs . " cool . sure . haven't we all ? " defne lies , pretending to be nonplussed by it all despite her very real physical reaction . " i would show you . " the alcohol , god damn it . " if you wanted to . " she keeps her voice as casual as she can , but feels VAGUELY EMBARRASSED by the implication of it all . she'd get naked for him . she'd undress . all he has to do is ask , and he doesn't even realise that . her eyes watch the way his adam's apply gently bobs as he drinks . she feels both calmer and more wound up all at once . she watches him and he doesn't even seem to notice , his own gaze skimming over her shoulders . when he talks , she pulls herself out of it and stands , just as everyone else does .

DEFNE TRIES TO FOCUS ON IT . on the way meredith gives everyone a pained smile . derek's eyes sweep over everyone . the other guards all raise their glasses of NON-ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES . it's meant to be a celebration , but they're all far too aware that it isn't one and can never be one again . meredith talks easily , even gesturing to thomas at one part and allowing him a polite smattering of applause . defne knows the words are there , the thank yous , the honourable mentions , the moment of silence for those lost . . but all her brain can do is ring and ring . ring with the alcohol , and THOMAS right beside her , their arms almost grazing . the only thing that pulls her out of it is a large and sudden BOOM that sounds across the room . at the same time , everyone seems to wince . defne can't help her hand immediately flying out , grabbing thomas' forearm just as all the lights go out . " what was that ? " she asks , voice high pitched . there's footsteps moving , quickly . people push past . meredith's voice cuts across . " it could just be the powerboard cutting - " but it's hardly soothing as another louder noise sounds , this time closer . defne doesn't even realise she's still holding onto thomas' forearm , but with her eyes still adjusting to the dark , she's unable to confidently release him yet . " is somebody hurt ? " defne asks , slightly dumbly , CONFUSION WASHING OVER HER because none of this makes sense .

[chaddicus]

see the longer I play with my understanding of my transmasc experience and dysphoria, the more I grapple with the conflict between mocking fragile masculinity for refusing to allow the use of 'feminine' things vs knowing more and more keenly how much dysphoria I would and do get whenever someone associates something I do or use or wear with femininity. and no amount of people insisting that using "feminine" things doesn't invalidate someone's gender, man or otherwise, seems to have any impact on that dysphoria

we do need to untangle cultural perceptions of masculine vs feminine and respect for a person's gender, manhood in particular in this discussion, but I almost feel like knowing that means it's my responsibility to refuse to engage with those ideas for my own gender — and the problem is that knowing this is not the common understanding means knowing that other people *will* associate my use of feminine things as some sort of contradiction with any masculinity I may wish to express or identify with, and no amount of understanding the concepts and holding the principles can erase the revulsion and pain and fear I feel at the thought of people associating me with some concept of womanhood that I adamantly *do not experience or identify with.* fuck.

[xcziel]

wow they decided to copy yoongi almost exactly: concert lovefest for army and then dip

[deathblossomed]

HOSPITALS HAVE ALWAYS been tricky places for shinigami. With the number of people teetering on the precipice between this world and the next, hey were hot spots for activity and flush with energy. Not to mention a popular place for yurei to linger.

( As Botan hovers up and into the hospital, she has to stop to sneeze. Ooh-- Yusuke must be talking poorly about her, she just knows it. )

She floated invisibly through the halls, following the traces of miasma to the children's ward. There are nurses bustling urgently in every direction and a number of parents lingering, distressed and grief stricken. And from each room, she could see the same miasma oozing from behind the closed doors.

She carefully peaks in each room, looking for a child that was asleep and alone. Children were often uniquely sensitive to energy and she couldn't risk anyone being able to see or react to her presence.

She found a young girl asleep in her bed, her parent's pacing outside. Botan hovered over her, sitting in the air with her book in her lap. She held her hand out, eyes glowing with her second sight. The child's life energy was low, her spirit weak and trembling. Botan focuses closer, observing the lines through which her ki would flow, the reservoir of her soul and glowing aura. It was like she'd been drained, both physically and spiritually, below a level she could easily recover from. And stranger still is that she wasn't recovering. Her ki well wasn't refilling with rest and medical care. She was dying, slow but if something isn't done, she won't make it for much longer.

Botan bites the tip of her tongue, jetting out of the room to go through a few others to confirm the pattern. Each child she saw was running on empty. And where their natural ki should be, a festering miasma was building, like venom.

Taking a breath, she leaves the building, flying back down to where Yusuke is waiting. Hopefully, he was able to find something and didn't just sneak off. Botan landed in front of him, her brow furrowed.

"Well, it's not good. Whatever attacked them left them dangerously low on ki and unable to recover, even when provided with physical support. Their bodies are still in good condition but if this goes on much longer..." she purses her lips, not liking the thought of so many lives snuffed out unnaturally. "Were you able to talk to anyone?"

━━   ❝   𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬..   ❞  Said Yusuke as he found himself in a sitting position only to avoid the insistent lecturing. God, and to think she pretty much implied that he wouldn’t be needed to explore just what’s making the miasma this strong since he couldn’t FLY, nor enter in the astral plane to avoid detection, and now he’s off to talk to parents about their sick children.

“Fine, fine I’ll go see what I can find out about the brats.” Both hands into his pockets as he reluctantly makes his way towards the hospital’s entrance. ‘Stupid Botan…WhY dON’t YOu dO soME DetECtinG?!’ He mutters in his mind. “I’ll show you detecting when I DETECT what color your panties are.” Yusuke spoke under his breath. He just wanted to be lazy and receive a mission update after a good nap. He wasn’t prepared to witness what he’s seeing.

There were so many adults here..men and women. Were they parents?? Some even flooded the main desk, flooding the poor receptionist with question that she had no clue on how to answer, there were even nurses coming from the elevators and other rooms to try and calm the parents down. “Damn..didn’t think it’d be THIS rowdy..has it really been THAT many brats?” Yusuke asked. Clearly the rumors might have downplayed the severity. There must have been at least thirty adults in here.

“Oh yeah, this has been happening for a few days now, they think it’s a variant of the first strain that hit a few weeks ago.” Said a man overhearing Yusuke’s sentence.

He spoke of a similar epidemic, then it clicked. It must have been when Gouki was devouring souls..but this was different. The children weren’t instantly comatose were they? WAS this just a repeat of what happened then?! FUCK, now he cares..and Yusuke knows when he starts to develop any sort of empathy he’d do what it took to see things be set right. So once he arrived close enough to a nurse he calls out to her to get her attention. “Hey lady…I have a little cousin that’s sick..but I wasn’t sure t’ bring him here..” Said Yusuke.

“I’m afraid this hospital might be quarantined soon, whatever’s happening seem to only affect the children. We’ve tested the majority of the parents but they were all fine..whatever this is it might be targets only to children. If you’re cousin experiences, lack of appetite for several hours to total lethargy then please bring him here.” Said the nurse.

Looks like his PLAN worked, the kids start to feel bad for several hours..so it must mean that their souls are still in tact..but it also mean something in the neighborhood might be the cause for concern.

“OH, and also if he develops a bruising on his back..please bring him.” The nurse added.

“Bruising?” Yusuke asked.

“Yes, we’ve noticed the children having strange bruising on their backs..different spots..but it seems to be a common physical symptom of whatever they’ve contracted.” The nurse said. “I’ll go check, thanks a lot lady.” Yusuke said as he quickly ran out of the hospital. A bruise.. “A friggin’ Yokai..plus the miasma Botan talked about..I wonder if that connected..” He wonders as he looks up into the sky..pretty much fidgety at this point as he REALLY wants to go explore the neighborhood.

[chuluoyi]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄

- sylus x reader

more than friends with benefits, definitely lovers. your relationship is one filled with banters, steamy nights, and secret strings attached... but when someone shows an interest in you, sylus won't hesitate to stake his claim for everyone to see

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—jealousy, crack, fluff, smut, a dash of comfort, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc)

note: loosely a sequel to strictly (un)professional. how this snowballed into 3.8k... i don't really know :')

“Missus, please spare us!”

You shot an unamused look at the twins before you, who clasped their hands together, pleading for you to let them go.

“Why is it so difficult for both of you to say?” you hissed, crossing your arms together. “I’m not asking for much—just a recount of what happened!”

“Boss will have our tongues for this!” Kieran looked up at you, quivering. “No way, I want to live!”

“He’s terrifying…” Luke shuddered in fear, hugging himself. “You don’t know how frightening he is!”

You were holding both Luke and Kieran hostage, the tender preys, all because Sylus refused to reveal what you had been wanting to know these past few weeks.

“So you’re afraid of Sylus…” You fixed them with a steely glare. “But have you ever thought that if you don’t spill it now, I will be the one taking both your tongues?”

“—?! Missus, please!”

“Why are you bullying the twins?” A deep voice cut through the twins’ pitiful laments, and you let out an exasperated huff as your chance slipped away once more.

Speak of the devil, and Sylus shall appear. He looked at the scene before him as if you were all a bunch of kindergarteners.

Luke and Kieran immediately flocked to him. “Boss! Save us! She’s scary!”

And now you were suddenly the scary one. You rolled your eyes. "Your henchmen are useless."

Sylus glanced at you with a half smile, knowing what information you were squeezing the twins for. "Sweetie, just give it up. You'll find peace faster that way."

Was it wrong to be curious about what Sylus had been up to during the three weeks you were unconscious after the attack that literally took your life? Why was he being so secretive about it anyway?

“I know, you were so worried sick you didn’t even eat or sleep,” you taunted your lover with a wicked smile. “That’s why you won’t tell me about it.”

Sylus laughed outright. “Pftt. You’ve got quite the imagination. Good to know.”

Nothing much changed after that night of his confession—if you could call it that—to you. You were indeed no longer strictly his bedwarmer, but your banters stayed the same, if not even more sarcastic now.

“Chop chop, we have an auction to go to, sweetie.” Sylus placed his big hand on your head, amused. “Stop being a hissy kitten towards the poor twins and get ready, hmm?”

“I’ll definitely uncover it,” you shot him a resentful glare. “Just you wait and see.”

Such were your days with your true kindred-spirits lover. He would tease you during the day and turn you into a hot mess at night, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

In tonight's auction, you had one target: the broker for a new rising star firearms dealer. Sylus had been eyeing him, deducing his goods could be a nice addition to his armory.

And so, you went up to him. However...

“...Are you single, miss?”

Here we go again.

You forced a tight smile. “Sir, I’d appreciate it if we can stick to subject at hand.”

The man blinked, then quickly plastered on a wide grin to mask his surprise. “Oh yes! Yes, I-I’m sorry, I got distracted— well, I’d say this is a pretty solid MoU... but I’ll need to contact my boss first.”

This weirdo... you thought with boredom, is so transparent.

This wasn’t the first time you’d dealt with a situation like this. Granted, you were pretty and you knew it, but usually, more distinguished men would be a bit more subtle about it.

“Take all the time you need,” you encouraged smoothly, your eyes crinkling in an attempt to look friendly. “As you can see, Mr. Sylus has proposed the perfect bargain for this kind of dealings.”

“I wouldn’t argue with that. I assure you we’ll certainly try to accommodate his request.” The man nodded and gave you a meaningful look, before coughing awkwardly. “Uh, sorry, what was your name again, miss?”

Your faux smile remained perfectly still as you replied, “Mephisto.”

The man’s eyes roved over you, and he grinned roguishly. “Right. Still, I never expected Mr. Sylus’ secretary to be as beautiful as you, Miss Mephisto...”

This was tedious. Your patience was tested with every leering look he gave you. Sylus must know this already, and he's somewhere laughing at the sight of you dealing with this creep.

“You flatter me too much, I’m average.”

“No, no! I mean it!”

He knows... yet he wouldn't do anything about it. Not that you would expect Sylus to barge in like a man blinded by envy, but still, he was insufferable for not coming to you just like he had for Miss Hunter back then.

The man kept droning on and on about himself and everything else that had nothing to do with the business deal, and you were this close to dropping him and using your Evol to shut him up when—

He then turned to you expectantly. “Oh, there is a dance! Miss, would you mind if I have your first dance?”

“Oh...”

And it occurred to you... why not spice things up a little?

Sylus’ dark crimson eyes narrowed silently as he watched both of you from the island table while savoring his glass of wine, before he let out a loud snort.

That vermin doesn’t have a clue he is playing with fire.

For most of your interaction, the firearms dealer’s broker kept giving you suggestive looks, and occasionally brushing his hand against yours on purpose. He wasn't even trying to hide it, and it was amusing to see how aggravated you looked the entire time.

Adorable. Sylus found you incredibly endearing these days, from your pouts to your glazed eyes whenever he thrusted into you—

You were oh so delectable… at least until he saw you holding that lesser man's arm, as he led you to the dance floor.

A deep frown immediately formed in his forehead.

“What are you scheming now?” Sylus scowled, half exasperated and half in disbelief. “You naughty cat.”

He was even more irked when he saw how casually you wrapped your arms around that vermin, twirling and pressing yourself against him in a waltz. Seeing him trying to hit on you was one thing, but for you to reciprocate was just plain unacceptable.

—and to his ire, your audacity continued throughout the night.

. . .

“Miss Mephisto, do you play pool?”

“I do.”

“Then, will you play with me?”

Sylus was now burning with tendrils of anger, watching you from a closer corner. He had seen the broker put his hands on you so many times that he had lost count—during the dance, mingling with other guests, and while sharing hearty laughs. All in all, you were acting as if you had forgotten he was even here.

You were threading on a very thin ice and whether you realized it or not... you didn't seem to care.

"Ah, I think your stance is a bit off..." And to make it worse, the broker was definitely seizing every chance he could, as there was nothing wrong with your form—you often accompanied Sylus playing pool, so you were a pro—and yet he still got behind you, trying to drape his arms around your body.

That was the last straw. Enough is enough.

Before Sylus realized what he was doing, he stormed over to where you were, yanked your arm forcefully, and effectively separated you from him. He didn’t give a damn about the horrified shout from the broker or the judging looks from other partygoers as he dragged you by the hand out of the ballroom.

“Sylus!” you nearly shrieked when he kicked open a door to a meeting room and locked it with his black-red mist. He pinned you against the wall, and crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

“Mmph!” You tried pushing him back, but he was stronger and held you in place, his tongue forcing your lips open as he pressed the back of your head toward him. His other hand slipped inside your dress—between your legs— two fingers in—

“—!” you couldn't even squeal as he devoured your mouth and the shock set in, feeling yourself getting aroused by the minute when his fingers did that scissoring thing and edged you further.

After he was done with your mouth, his hot lips trailed down to your neck and shoulder blades, sucking hard on several spots, making you gasp and moan.

"Hah... this... is the price to pay for testing me, sweetie," your lover growled his nickname for you with satisfaction as he noticed you trembling body, nibbling on your shoulder. "You want to get punished so badly, huh?"

"Ahh..." you threw your head back, clinging to him, grinding yourself against his fingers.

"Is it funny to you? Watching me see him touch you?" Sylus' unforgiving ruby eyes stared down at you like a lion eyeing its prey. "What an insolent little kitten you are..."

His fingers kept moving and thrusting inside you in an alarming speed, mercilessly hitting that one spot that could make you cry. He was seriously teaching you a lesson by forcing you to come undone right then and there.

"I-I...!" you tried to refute, but then you felt the knot inside you burst, and in the next second, you could feel yourself coming all over his fingers, shuddering, your breaths coming in pants.

Feeling faint, relief washed you when he pulled out his fingers. You leaned and clung onto him, pulling him closer, and Sylus finally saw what a mess he had turned you into.

Your glassy eyes focused solely on him, seemingly pleading—and those swollen lips, as well as the sizzling heat creeping up your cheeks—

“Ha,” he let out a low chuckle, a wicked grin curling his lips. “If I can still make you look like this, then I suppose I can forgive you.”

“You’re a meanie,” you mumbled breathlessly.

“You’re the mean one,” Sylus tutted with narrowed eyes, starting to pull away from you.

But then you pulled him close again and pressed your lips to his, this time with a gentleness that surprised him.

There was no malice or burning desire in your kiss. Strangely, it felt far more intimate. You pulled away, the heart-stopping swirls of his red eyes captivating you as you pressed your foreheads together.

“Needy, aren’t you, sweetie?” Sylus whispered, holding your gaze, his breath hot against your skin.

But right now, all of a sudden, you looked so vulnerable to him, as if any wrong word from his lips would shatter you. It made him almost feel guilty for manhandling you so roughly.

You didn’t respond, just wanting this closeness with him. Behind your snarky words and little schemes, this was what you wanted more than the release you just got. Sometimes, you still worried—did he want this too?

“What is it?” Sylus asked with a frown, seemingly concerned. “Talk. Tell me.”

“Nothing…” you replied in a small voice.

“Do you feel sick? Want to go back?”

You shook your head.

You weren’t usually this quiet. Sylus couldn’t help being restless at your sudden change. It felt awkward for him to do what he was about to do next, but instinctively, he figured it would comfort you a bit.

You felt a pang in your heart when he pulled away, but in the next instant, a wave of warmth enveloped you as he pressed you to him, burying your head against his sturdy chest.

For someone who deals with blood and gore, your body felt too soft and fragile, yet still fit perfectly in his arms. Though he had held you and made love to you many times before, it was only now that he truly noticed how small you were.

“You’re warm…” you murmured, your voice carrying a hint of a whine.

So needy and pliant… for him.

“My woman is such an enduring mystery.” Sylus mused, sounding almost as if he were lamenting. “Sometimes she’s a brazen kitten without a shred of shame, but then she pulls stunts like this.”

Your heart picked up the pace. You are... his. That was right. You were his woman in every sense of the word now, and he wasn't shying away from it.

But to cover your embarrassment, you could only come up with, “Can you not refer to me as cat...?”

He shot you an irked glance. “No.”

“He calls me by your bird’s name.”

“...”

“Sylus, you can’t murder him. Your deal will go down the drain.”

“Tch.” Sylus blew out an annoyed sigh, glaring at you. “By the time I get back here, you’re going back with me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes.”

Honestly you were exhausted, and you wanted to nothing more than a good sleep. But you couldn't just leave the broker without preamble because this deal depended on him, and Sylus too had some loose ends he had to tie before the two of you left.

Strangely, all eyes were on you when you returned to the ballroom. You wondered why as you navigated the crowd until you met the broker you had fooled in so many ways.

“Oh, Miss Mephisto, you’re back!” he was visibly and utterly drunk, and you cringed at the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. But then you noticed his eyes seemed to be fixated on your—

Neck. You realized in horror.

“Oh... hic, t-that... I-I see,” he blabbered, coughing awkwardly as he stared at the marks on your neck. “Miss... so that man is... y-your lover...?”

“Uh...” It was a wonder he didn’t recognize Sylus at first glance. Perhaps it was because he was so infamous, but it astounded you how this person couldn’t even tell that it was him.

"I-I thought... w-we..." he hiccupped again heartbrokenly, before snatching a glass on the table. "Oh, I need more drink!"

You observed him, half cringing. "Sir, I just want to remind you that once the documents are signed—"

"Yeah, yeah! It will be done by the end of the week!" he yelled at you. "Miss, how about you have a drink too!?"

Suddenly, a glass of gin was shoved into your hand, and you let out an irritated sigh. Yeah, he might be right. A glass of alcohol would help you sleep better tonight, you figured, so you chugged it down.

"Huh...?" And it didn’t take you long to realize something was amiss. The dizzying sensation set in far too quickly, you felt so hot, and you had to lean on the table next to you to keep from falling.

“Are you okay...?” a waitress asked you with concern, but the only sound you could hear was your own violent heartbeat. Before you knew it, the glass in your hand slipped from your grasp and crashed into the floor.

"Oh, miss! Are you okay?!" the broker suddenly got a hold over your body. "Oh! It seems you aren't feeling well! Let me escort you to you room!"

Room? You barely discerned what happened when he led you out of the crowd. Your head spun terribly, and then suddenly throbbed, making you clutch it and cry out in pain, "Ah!"

It didn't make sense, no matter how you saw it. You had a pretty good tolerance, so for you to get hungover from a gin was just—

“Oh, does it hurt much?” he suddenly asked in your ear, making you shiver. “Don’t worry... it'll be bearable soon enough... I’ll make sure you will feel good…”

It's him! You realized. He spiked your drink!

His arms were now locking yours, steering you to go into the elevator. You took a deep breath before directing your speech manipulation evol on him— "Let go!"

He was immediately jerked away from you, but as a result, you almost crumpled, your vision swimming and your head pounding intensely. The pain made you feel close to passing out, and yet you managed to trek forward, leaning on the wall for support.

You had to get away from him before he could catch up to you. Panic set in, and when strong arms caught you, you convulsed, thinking he had grabbed you—

“Stop thrashing!”

“S-Sylus...?” You looked up, trying to focus on his face, but everything was so blurry.

“I’m here.” His voice was ragged, and you’d recognize it anywhere. “What happened to you? Are you hurt?”

“M-my head...” Your voice came out as a broken whimper, clutching at your throbbing head. “Hurts...”

You were feverish, trembling against his hold, and you reeked of alcohol. Sylus instantly realized something was seriously wrong and pressed your head into his chest to provide comfort. “Just a little bit longer—” his deep voice carried a subtle hint of alarm as he hoisted you up to his arms. “Hang on, alright?”

But just as he was about to bring you back, he caught the sight of a fleeing silhouette in the corner, and realizing who it was, his right eye blazed, black and red mist swirled in the air and restrained the broker, engulfing his screams.

“S-spare me! P-please!” the man pleaded tearfully, pinned on the ground, and Sylus approached him silently, looking down at him with so much spite in his eyes.

“A roach that doesn’t seem to know his place…” The corners of his lips twisted into a sadistic smile. “Whether you survive or not depends on you. Best hope you’ll last.”

Despite his pleas, he paid it no mind as he walked away with you in his arms.

When you awakened, your head was no longer pounding.

It took you a moment to realize there was a cool compress on your forehead, you were now in a clean oversized sweater, and someone was holding your hand.

Sylus. You looked up to find him asleep, sitting with his back against the headboard beside you. It was rare to catch him sleeping. In this moment, he looked defenseless, yet a faint frown lingered on his handsome face.

Has he been waiting for you like this, holding your hand all night...?

You tried to get a better look at him, but the rustle seemed to wake him up instead, as his eyes cracked open.

“You awake?” he asked, voice so sultry it woke all your senses up. “I was just shutting my eyes.”

“Aren’t you uncomfortable sleeping like that?” you asked.

Sylus turned toward you, his eyes still hazy from sleep. “What about you? Feeling better?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair gently.

“Really, you...” His stare was so withering it made question marks appear in your head. “I took my eyes off you for one minute, and you ended up with alcohol poisoning?”

“—? I didn’t know! But wait, what happened to that bozo?”

Sylus gave you a deadpan look, and you gasped. “You… didn’t kill him and have his body secretly disposed of, did you?”

“Just who do you think I am?”

“…a kingpin of an illegal syndicate?”

Your lover’s scowl deepened further at your response. “Nah, he got lucky. I only returned him with a broken jaw, broken hips, and two missing teeth.”

“Sylus!”

If he looked sleepy before, now he definitely looked wide awake. Sylus always sleeps at dawn, and you wanted him to rest more than anything, but now you were itching to ask him...

“Say... were you waiting for me while sitting like this too when I wasn’t conscious for three weeks?” You avoided his gaze, the question burning on your lips. Sylus had never given you a straight answer whenever you asked him about this.

This time too, he grumbled, “Why do you keep asking that?”

“Because I can’t ask Luke and Kieran, they look as if you’d set them on fire.”

Sylus went silent, not giving you any affirmation at all, and you huffed and unclasped his hand, pursing your lips together. “I see. You don’t care about me at all. Noted.”

You heard him sigh, before his red eyes squarely landed on you.

“When I was shot, you worried about me even when you know I’m going to be alright,” he suddenly posed the question on you. “Didn’t you?”

You nodded, and he tousled your hair again—the action alone somehow made you feel warm.

“Whatever you felt that day, that’s the same to what I went through during those three weeks. Multiply it by ten.”

“Huh!?” you rose up from the sheets in surprise, facing him.

Sylus then turned away from you, crossing his arms and shutting his eyes. “That’s it, sweetie. I’m going back to sleep now.”

“Wait!”

You scrambled into his lap, clinging to his shoulder. Sylus begrudgingly opened his eyes again, a look of irritation on his face. “What?”

Multiply it by ten…? Heh. At this moment, you felt light and giddy, knowing that the two of you were now true lovers in every way that mattered even when you were faced with his sourness.

“Don't scowl too much!” you giggled merrily. You placed your fingers on the corners of his lips, gently lifting them to force a smile. “Honesty suits you much better, Sylus. It’s recommended.”

This cheeky woman... Sylus never thought the day would come for him to experience these myriad of emotions, much less for them to be incited by you.

He pulled you close, one arm around your hips and the other around the back of your head. Your lips met his in a passionate kiss that left no room for further conversation, only parting when you both needed to catch your breath.

“If you want me to, then don’t make me relive those nights,” he said with a sly smile, his crimson eyes glinting in the light and his voice like silk against your ears. “Can you?”

His tone softened your gaze, a warm sensation spreading through your chest. You responded with a playful snort, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him another peck on the lips.

After your innocent make-out session, you nestled closer to him with a contented sigh, savoring the reassuring warmth of his embrace as you both drifted off again into the morning.

Epilogue

"Do you hear anything?"

"No, nothing..."

Luke and Kieran whispered amongst themselves as they tried to hear anything of importance beyond Sylus' bedroom. After their boss went back home with you passed out in his arms last night, they had totally expected the worst.

“Seems like she’s alright then…” Kieran concluded, stepping away from the door. “We should just go. If Boss catches us, we’re dead.”

The twins backed away from the door and went back to the living room, sighing in relief.

"But honestly, Boss has changed lately, hasn't he? He looks kinder, somehow."

"Are you sure, Luke? Maybe it's just when he looks at the missus. With us, meh."

“I still get chills thinking about when he destroyed the Protofield to dust after he found her following the explosion,” Luke gazed off in wonder. “It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, but it was also heartbreaking—especially when he tried to wake her and realized she was beyond help because the steel had pierced her heart…”

Luke and Kieran went quiet at the memory.

“Anyhow!” Kieran suddenly exclaimed. “All’s well that ends well! To be honest, I totally saw it coming that they'd end up together!”

“Ooh, you're right! They did a bad job of hiding it too, no less! I mean, one time, the missus came out of his room while—”

As the twins gossiped about their master and mistress, they were unaware that Mephisto the crow, perched nearby, was dutifully recording their conversation and would report it all to his master later.