#this one was much harder to limit in case you were wondering

[incognit0slut]

Masterlist

PALESTINE MASTERPOST🇵🇸

READING LIST🥀

KINKTOBER 2023 18+

KINKTOBER 2024 18+

One-shots based on songs

Lock your door 18+ Billie Eillish - Billie Bossa Nova >> All Reader wanted was for her coworker to pay attention to her. Spencer was more than happy to oblige.

Take it off Taylor Swift - Dress >> Spencer has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

Buried in the pillow 18+ Chase Atlantic - Slow Down >> A night of restless sleep ends better than expected.

Body on mine 18+ Justin Sky - Collide >> Reader and Spencer find a way to spend the night together on a team retreat.

Lose Control part 1 of 3 18+ Sickick - Mind Games >> Spencer finds himself locked in a room with his rival.

↳ The Last Laugh part 2 of 3 18+ Sickick - Mind Games >> Spencer finds himself sharing a room with his rival.

↳ Better for you part 3 of 3 Spencer spends the change of year with a new resolution as he starts looking at his rival differently.

Dance with the devil 18+ Chase Atlantic - Swim >> Spencer reassures Reader that sex toys are his ally rather than his enemy.

All I need 18+ Daniel Caesar, Kali Uchis - Get you >> Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with Reader. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love?

Heaven to you 18+ Julia Michaels - Heaven >> Spencer couldn't wait to touch you after he's released from prison.

Play our fantasies 18+ Doja Cat - Streets >> The FBI agent visiting your workplace wants more from you than answers to his questions.

Eat that girl for lunch 18+ Billie Eilish - Lunch >> Being cornered in the filing room was the last thing you expected when Spencer asked you out for lunch.

Slow Dancing in a Burning Room 18+ This isn’t a love story. This isn’t a fairytale. This is about a woman bent on setting the world on fire and the FBI agent assigned to her case, drawn to the very flame she ignites.

One-shot #Gifwriting

Pretty Boy 18+ Spencer was too pretty for you to resist.

Pretty when you sleep 18+ As newlyweds, Spencer couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Even when you were asleep.

Sweet agony 18+ After a tragic event, you believed you were unworthy of love. Spencer decided to prove you wrong.

Tempting the Cowboy 18+ The team has been trying to bring Spencer back to the BAU after he hung up his badge to live on his ranch peacefully. It’s a good thing you’ll do whatever it takes to persuade him, even if the rugged cowboy wants to bend you over in the barn.

Beyond the limit 18+ Spencer was hesitant when you asked him to be rough, but when he realized how much you enjoyed it, he wondered just how far he could push your limit.

↳ The breaking point 18+ Spencer realizes that being dominant doesn’t always require him to be rough, especially when he has complete control over your body.

Hypothetically Chronically single, you suggest a pact with your best friend to start a family together when you turn forty.

Stress Relief 18+ You convince your husband to take out his anger on you when he comes home very tense.

Behind Closed Doors 18+ Your admiration of his vest leads you to an empty office with his face buried between your thighs—and an urgent Emily demanding your whereabouts.

↳ Behind Closed Doors 2 18+ You welcome Spencer back to the team with a special gesture of your own—and find yourself falling even harder for him after he opens up to you.

↳ Behind Closed Doors 3 18+ Despite your promise not to sneak behind the team again, you find yourself in a compromising position when you’re forced to ride in the same car as him.

↳ Behind Closed Doors 4 18+ Your frustration over his broken promise melts away as soon as he calls, and you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to his voice, more than you anticipated.

Prove me wrong 18+ When you tease Spencer about his inability to be dominant in bed, he decides to prove you wrong by taking matters into his own hands.

Crawling back to you 18+ You never planned on having a casual fling with your brother's friend five years ago, nor did you expect him to fall in love with you, which forced you to end things abruptly. But now he's unexpectedly back in your life—older, wiser, and fully intent on winning your heart

Series

Right Kind of Wrong 18+

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Genre: Romance, mystery, crime, suspense Warnings: 18+ explicit sexual content (MINORS DNI), graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA Series status: complete

Reader never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation when she suddenly became a witness. She also never thought she’d encounter her one-night-stand again—the awkward stranger who isn’t exactly that good in bed… Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong. But the more he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, the more he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Much Ado About Nothing 18+

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Bau Reader Genre: Romance, humor, angst Warnings: 18+ explicit sexual content Series status: on hiatus

There is one rule you and Spencer agreed on: never talk about the past, especially when that one regretful night strained your friendship. But throw in nosy teammates, an obvious matchmaking scheme, and a never-ending battle of wits—the line between friend and foe starts to blur as you find yourself questioning your true feelings.

Requests

Love was a foreign concept until he met you. 18+

You’re flabbergasted at how much your son resembles your husband.

Spencer thinks you’re too sweet for a damaged man like him. 18+

Spencer forces you to give him a show when he discovers your secret. 18+

Spencer gives you a ride on his horse to watch the sunset.

Your idea of showering together to save time doesn’t work out as you planned. 18+

Spencer finally lets you go down on him after you convince him that you're ready. 18+

Spencer comes home to you after prison.

Spencer asks you to ride his thigh while he finishes work. 18+

Spencer decides to take full advantage of the mirror in your hotel room. 18+

Spencer tries to stimulate you into the most intense pleasure. 18+

Spencer is needy after work and tries to distract you while you cook. 18+

[dreamescapeswriting]

Side Effects ~ BC

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

GENRE: established relationships, hanahaki disease, Unrequited Love, non idol au, chan being the one with hanahaki

PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

"Chan, you're spacing out again." Felix laughs as he notices his friend spacing out in the middle of class. Something he'd been doing a lot lately as well which hadn't gone unnoticed by you and all of his other friends but none of you could get a simple answer out of him.

Chan would do his usual task of telling you everything was fine, that it was just the stress of classes piling up on top of him but it seemed like so much more than that and it worried you that he didn't come to you about it.

"Sorry," He laughed nervously before turning his attention back to the professor, talking about Hanahaki disease and how often it tended to affect people but it was everything Chan already knew and was experiencing himself. 

It was something that was happening a lot lately in the news, a lot of people were experiencing unrequited love and a lot of people were dying or doing experimental drugs to try and rid themselves of the disease but in the end, nothing would work. Most cases end in death or if they were lucky a prison sentence for taking uncontrolled substances.

"Professor, I heard there were new surgeries for people," A girl at the front of the class called out and Chan's ears picked up, it was something he'd been looking into lately and he wanted to know if it was true. Glancing over at the professor Chan could see he seemed unsure of how to approach the subject matter and he took off his glasses and began rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"In very rare cases the surgeries do work," He explained, looking out at everyone before walking to the center of the room. 

For months now Chan had been putting off the fact that he was suffering alone through it. Ignoring it and praying it would go away all on its own but as the months went by it was getting harder to hide from you and his friends.

When the first petal had come from his throat he thought if he ignored it long enough the whole thing would go away on its own but it was becoming blatantly apparent that wasn't going to happen. Whenever he was around you the petals only came out faster so he did everything he could to limit his time around you.

"What surgery is it?" Chan called out and you glanced over at him, you'd never seen him so interested in this class before but you said nothing, letting him ask whatever he wanted as you watched him. 

You'd noticed how withdrawn he'd been lately and it was starting to get to you a little bit. It had started last month, he'd stopped wanting to hang out with you...alone at least. If the others were there he didn't seem to mind that much but he put major distance between the two of you. 

The two of you used to be inseparable, you'd spend every waking moment together but he'd stopped. You figured he'd just gotten busy with finals but it seemed like something deeper than that. He stopped speaking to you, moving to sit beside his friends rather than sitting beside you.

"Chan," You whispered, as he started writing down notes. Your eyes scanned over the chicken scratches on his page but you couldn't understand any of it. Felix glanced at you sadly and you looked down at your notebook, wondering what you could have done to make Chan hate you so much he couldn't even look at you anymore. 

"It's still experimental but the flowers are surgically removed...along with the victim's feelings of love, meaning that you'll no longer love that person anymore." The class sighed as he listed the side effects of the surgery but Chan just wrote and wrote, scribbling anything the professor was saying back to him, only stopping when the next words came from his lips.

"Sometimes, it will also remove all memories of the former beloved...leaving the victim to never love again," The room turned silent and people stared at the professor with saddening expressions, no one dared to speak. The risk of never being able to love again lingered in the air as you felt your heart breaking.

"Why would anyone do that?" You whisper, mostly to yourself rather than anyone else but Chan heard you and it seemed to irritate him as he gripped his pen so tight you were almost worried it was going to burst.

"Some people can't stand the thought of never being loved by the one person they hold dear." Chan finally grumbled in your direction, wasting no time in gathering his stuff and rushing out of the room seconds before the bell even ran to dismiss you all. 

"What was that about?" You mumble to Felix who flicked you a shrug and you frown staring down at the table where Chan had just been sitting to see a drop of blood there. Chan was prone to nosebleeds but you were almost sure you hadn't seen any when he stared at you.

Weeks continued to pass by and Chan only became more and more withdrawn from you and everything that involved you. He stopped coming to the weekly study sessions you did with all of your friends and he stopped replying to your texts. You were starting to freak out and you'd enlisted Felix - Chan's roommate - to help you figure out what was going on. Felix shot you one last look and you urged him to go to the door once again, 

It was supposed to be movie night and you'd hoped Chan would come out of his room to join you but he hadn't. So you'd practically shoved Felix toward the door to get him to come out or at least give you answers. He'd made no promises to get to the bottom of everything but told you that he'd do the best he could which was what had led him to waking up Chan by pounding on his door.

"Lix, I'm tired. What is it?" Chan grumbled looking at his friend who had just woken him up, it wasn't even late. It was barely three in the afternoon which only worried Felix more. It wasn't like Chan to sleep like this, if at all. Everyone knew how much he struggled sleeping so to find him asleep in the middle of the day seemed so much worse.

"What's going on with you? You're pushing all of us away." Lix shoved his way into Chan's dorm room, looking around for any sign that he was hiding something but everything was as it usually was. The laptop was open on his desk, working hard as he forced himself to do, but there was something on the screen.

Searching for a hospital that cured Hanahki's disease, along with success rates, Felix stepped closer to get a better look but Chan quickly stepped in front of him and shut the laptop screen down.

"I'm just sick and tired," Chan growls at him, coughing into his hands and freezing in place as he feels his breathing becoming harder and harder to draw in. Felix's eyes wandered to his friend's hands and he saw the blood before anything else,

"Chris-" The words were cut off as Chan dropped to the floor, his lungs so tight he couldn't bring any new air, his gasps coming out frantically.

"YN! CALL AN AMBUALANCE!" Felix screams into the other room, moving Chan onto his side and doing his best to open his airway a little more, to give his friend a little time. Rushing into the room you stared down at your friend who was gasping and struggling to breathe.

"Hang on, Chan. We've got you, I promise we've got you!" You promised as you frantically called for an ambulance.

It had taken everything inside of you not to go with him in the ambulance but Felix had told you to come later, to pack everything Chan was going to need and meet them at the hospital so that's what you were doing. Raiding through his drawers in search of some underwear, you ragged open the next one only to find hundreds and hundreds of bloodied petals lying there.

"W-What the fuck?" You whispered as you pulled them up, it was clear how long Chan had been struggling with this by the sheer amount of petals that were sitting here. Your heart began to race as you rushed to his laptop, pushing it open and looking through his search history. All of it is coinciding with someone looking for a way to rid themselves of the disease,

"Chan, no." You grumbled, moving to go through the drawers until you found exactly what you were looking for. The bottle of pills that were sold as a "quick fix" was the one thing that wasn't a fix at all. It was a glorified painkiller that people claimed fixed them, but it only numbed them to the pain of the growing of the plant inside of them.

"Mr Bang, I can't stress this enough, the side effects-"

"I know," Chan cut the doctor off as he signed the final waiver that he was having to sign in order for them to remove the damn flowers from him. Doing anything so he could breathe again without the pain of unrequited love weighing down on him.

"Have you tried discussing your feelings with the person who you hold them for?" The doctor asked. It was all any of them had asked him since he was able to breathe on his own again and it was starting to get to him.

"She won't love me back. I-I won't put that stress on our friendship," Chan mumbled a little as he took in a deep breath, there was no way he was going to risk ruining things between you because of some stupid flower inside of his lungs.

"There's a chance you won't even remember her...That you'll never be able to love anybody ever again," The doctor explained right as you got to the door, panting and sweating heavily as you stared at them both,

"You didn't go in yet?" Your voice cracked as you rushed to the side of the bed, looking at Chan who shook his head. The doctor walked away, sensing the need to give you both some space and you tried to catch your breath as Chan stared at you,

"Yn, what are you doing-"

"I love you." You cut him off, staring at him as you confessed your own feelings for him. The sight of his petals back in the dorm room killed you inside as you realised he'd been hiding everything you'd been hiding along with him.

"Yn." He grumbled, not wanting to hear you lie just to save his life but you grabbed his hand, placing it over his chest and letting him feel your heart racing for him. 

"No, listen to me, Christopher. You've been ignoring me long enough and I swear if you do anymore I'm going to go insane." You rush the words out and he looks at you, 

"This isn't a quick fix, I love you...T-This isn't...This isn't something you can lie to fix me through," He cried, tears running down his cheek as you slowly reached out and wiped away the tears. The sight of him crying tearing you apart,

"It's not a lie, Channie." Your voice was softer this time as you reached into your bag, bringing out your own petals and showing him the blood-soaked petals that were staining your hands,

"But-"

"I never said anything because I didn't want to ruin our friendship." You admit as you slowly sit on the side of the bed, your breathing becoming slightly easier as you sit beside him.

"How could you stand being around me?" He frowned, it had been so hard for him to even be near you whenever he felt his feelings inside of him.

"I wanted to spend as much time as I could with you, until...U-Until the flowers did their job," You admitted before Chan brought you into a deep kiss.

As soon as your lips touched everything outside of you both ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, Chan's arms moving to bring you closer to him as your lips brushed against each other in a tender and hesitant kiss.

A shiver ran down your spine as you whimpered a little, carefully sitting on his lap and kissing him deeper than before, your hands cupping his face as you finally gave into the feelings you'd had for months.

"I bought-" Felix stops himself as he sees the two of you, smirking to himself as you sheepishly pull back and stare over at him and pout at being interrupted.

"I'll go and cancel the surgery," Is all Felix says before sneaking off and making you giggle a little, looking down at Chan who was already staring at you with sparkles in his eyes.

"You're not going anywhere anytime soon, I hope you know that," He whispers before kissing you deeply once again.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @s3ungm1nxxl0ve

[lazycats-stuff]

Hello I hope you are well I wanted to make a request about a little male reader that he is a Green Lantern who ends up in Gotham for something related to space drug trafficking but for unspecified reasons he ends up being very attached to Batman a lot as if he were his son small and the bat family ends up making fun of him for this.

I really apologize if there are any spelling mistakes, English is not my first language and I hope I don't bother you with this request.

Hey, English isn't my first language too, so no worries. Of course I can make this, sorry that this took so long though...

Summary: (Y/N) gets attached to Batman.

Warnings: is the ending rushed? Maybe, nothing major, minor cursing here and there, but only one or two

(Y/N) never knew that if he ever took that ring that he would be a Green Lantern and that it would catapult him into this world of justice, injustice and a gray area of the world of criminals. While it is an incredible experience that most people will never experience, such as flying and having powers, but of course, everything has a bad side.

Such as trauma, PTSD, lack of trust towards people and more so towards humanity as a whole. And (Y/N) lost faith in all creatures as it is, since he is responsible for space as well. More often than not, he would travel to space and he would have to investigate there. More people would think that alien species would be more above of human crimes.

Think again.

They were just as bad, if not more worse. (Y/N) had difficult bumps in his hero life. Being a young hero, all alone, with no one to fall back on is rather difficult. Seeing the awful things in this line of work is hard enough, but not having anyone to fall back onto, it makes it even more harder.

But seeing justice being handed to those who deserve it, seeing the victims being empowered... That's something that keeps him going. And is justice always perfect like people would like to think so?

No. But (Y/N) saw that justice takes care of the innocent. Late or early, it always comes when you least expect it.

And that's what kept him going, to keep helping everyone he could. Through all the hardships... It kept him going.

Soon enough, he was introduced into the Justice League and to Flash, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Cyborg and of course, the infamous Batman. He soon became a member as well and that came with a shit ton of help.

Better equipment, communication and more information that he previously couldn't get or didn't have access to. It made his life much more easier and the cases moved quicker due to the before mentioned information. (Y/N) was on cloud 9 as it is.

However, there was a slight problem called Batman.

(Y/N) was slightly afraid of the man, but in awe at the same time. Batman was a detective known all over the world. His detective skills are impressive, almost like Sherlock Holmes', which is impressive. And with today's technology, Batman is nothing short of a great detective.

But then again, there is a problem with the man's demeanor. He is scary as hell. The man just pops out out of thin air and makes your blood pressure rise to the moon itself. But he is a good mentor when he needs to be and when someone needs guidance. It's something that fascinates (Y/N) about the duality of the man.

And, (Y/N) doesn't have a father so he may or may not get attached. Either way, (Y/N) has some sort of respect for Batman, but more out of fear.

As of now, (Y/N) was going to kill someone. He was on this drug trafficking case for a long while, bouncing from one point A to a point A,1. He couldn't get to point A to point B directly as it should have been. Oh no. Oh God no. Why would (Y/N) get it so easily?

At last, (Y/N) has made it to the almost point B. That almost point B came down to Earth. More specifically, to Gotham city. To Batman's domain, so to speak. Sure, saying domain is rather dramatic, but everyone knows that Gotham City is off limits for anyone who is not Batman.

So, (Y/N) threaded carefully in the city, looking for the people who were needed in his case. He tried to be as covert as possible. That, everyone, went to shit rather quickly.

" What are you doing here? " Batman asked from behind him in his gravelly voice, making (Y/N) jump into the air like a scared cat, grabbing his chest like an old lady.

" Jesus! What the hell?! " (Y/N) exclaimed, leaning down onto his knees.

" What are you doing here? " Batman asked again in his deep and gravelly voice.

" I'm here on a lead of my drug trafficking case. And before you say something, I'm not leaving until I solve it. I led me everywhere and the last stop is here. " (Y/N) said with determination in his voice, however, inwardly, he was shaking in his boots. Batman is scary, can you blame him?

" There has been a new drug on the streets that has been causing problems here... " Batman noted and then looked at (Y/N) and it took everything in him that he doesn't buckle at this very moment. His glare was piercing.

" It seems we are going to work together. " (Y/N) said and Batman simply called someone and (Y/N) wasn't sure what to make of that. Why is the man so cold?

" We will work together, but I'm taking charge since it's my city here. What do you know about the drug and it's distributers? "

And that's how their chaotic friendship and paternal looking up started. (Y/N) has learnt a few tricks from Batman who has years under his belt as a detective really taught (Y/N) some things that will help him in his investigations later on. (Y/N) didn't think that Batman would be such a great mentor, but he was.

Tough and firm when he needed to be, when (Y/N) felt weak and hopeless in this case. And when (Y/N) was clueless, he would be pointed into the right direction and was allowed to learn on his own, with subtle hints. And reassuring when he felt insecure about his powers.

And in the meantime, he met the entire family, starting with the oldest Dick and ending with Damian, the youngest one in the family and the only biological one in the family.

Everything would have been normal if (Y/N) didn't bond with Bruce so out of nowhere. Almost like he would have been his son. Bruce had absolutely no explanation for this. And neither did (Y/N).

But did either of them complain? No.

Did the boys decide to absolutely make fun of the situation? Hell yes.

Dick would often joke that Bruce has a radar for the orphans, regardless of the region where they lived.

Jason would often compare Bruce to a solitary creature that comes out of its lair to seek them and bring them to the lair. Bruce more often then not rolls his eyes at the remark.

Tim simply calls him a new brother and Damian has often joked that (Y/N) is a long lost son of Bruce.

Of course, all of this was in good nature, no malice behind any of those words. Boys liked (Y/N), not minding it all, but they are still allowed to have fun with the situation.

[novthewolf]

Two's company, three's a family - Part one

Summary: As a cupid, an angel of love, your mission was to make sure everyone was paired up with the right person. Yet you couldn't get your two most ancient clients to finally end up together. And despite the 6,000 years spent on the case, you couldn't bring yourself to give them up, not oblivious to the reason.

Pairing: Aziraphale x Crowley / GN!Reader x Crowley / GN!Reader x Aziraphale (polyamorous relationship).

Masterlist : Here

Warnings: foul language, alcohol use, slow burn, english isn't my first language.

Words : +3k word

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You were mopping around, wondering how the fuck you still hadn't managed to get those two sugar-rotten bird brains to get together ! You ran your hands through your hair and went down to rub your face. You reached for your glass and drank down every last drop.

6,000 bloody years you spent with them, and nothing !

So much work for no true result.

And, just for the record, you wanted to insist that you are really good at your job.

No, you weren't bragging; you really were ! A lot of cupids were cruel little things, and it had to do with the fact that you feed on the love a person feels for another. And since it didn't have to be reciprocated, most preferred to work less—well, smarter—rather than harder. But you just loved love stories. Of any kind, really ! Motherly, fatherly, between siblings, friends... Nevertheless, being able to form a perfect match and seeing the joy you brought to others always filled you with joy.

A cupid is just a specific type of angel meant to spread love all over the world. Which included humans, animals, and supernatural beings such as demons and angels. However, your peers weren't your favourites. They were too focused on their jobs, being either neutral towards each other or straight-up hateful. And hate tasted too bitter to your liking.

Which was probably the reason why you were so interested in Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship to begin with. They were so friendly and caring that something inside you just clicked. Even if their love story was the slowest burn you ever encountered, you couldn't bring yourself to give up.

Hell no ! Mmh, no. You were too stubborn to accept your failure. Yes, failure. Because despite spending every moment with them (well, when they were together) and using so many arrows, those two just wouldn't come together ! And to make sure your bow and arrows worked, you almost paired up every goddamn duck at St. James Park.

Nothing worked ! Nothing !

Ugh, so annoying...

In your case, the only connection you seem to have in this vast universe is with the pub and your drink... And to the generations of barmen you complained to.

"How can someone be so oblivious ?" Your drunken words slipping out of your mouth without anyone to talk to.

"Tell me about it." A voice said next to you.

Oh, you recognised the voice alright; you just didn't feel like engaging in a conversation with anyone right now. Still, you were polite enough to acknowledge their presence.

"Hi Mihael." You mumbled.

"Good evening to you too, Y/N !" She chirped, her voice too positive for you to appreciate right now. You groaned and rested your head on your arms.

"What do you want ? It's not your type to be staying down there once your shift's over," you said before looking up at her.

Her dark pink eyes were scanning the pub warily. You rolled your eyes, her attitude reminding you how atypical you've become. Being among humans, eating food, or even walking on earth was something Cupid didn't do. Flying around was the most common attitude, as was having really limited contact with humans, or "clients," as Archangel Chamuel calls them. But you loved your time on earth with every creature, though eating ex-living animals isn't your thing. And being a freak was actually something you were doomed to be. You knew you were different from other mystical beings, and it was really fucking lonely.

"You're right ; I don't know how you can stand all the smells and, ugh, sensations." She shuddered.

You sighed, waiting as patiently as you could in that moment.

"But I guess you should enjoy as much as you can while you can."

What ? Why would she say that ? Did you do something wrong ? Did they realize you... No. And they never noticed that you spent your time with a demon (angels were obliviously okay) and tried to match up said demon with Aziraphale. Did they finally catch up ? Or were they upset that you mostly lived with humans ? No, you are almost the best cupid, producing so much love, as proved by how many ducks you shot.

"M-Mh.. sure.. but, mmh.. I didn't know my time on earth was on a timer." You tried to joke lightly, which was heavily ineffective in calming your nerves.

"Of course not silly," she beamed. "Armageddon is coming !"

"Wha-" you sat up, almost tumbleling down. "Already ? Are you sure ?"

"Affirmative ! The anti-Christ is being delivered as we speak."

"Oh, great..."

You just wanted to cry right here and now, but you really couldn't afford to. It would be crossing a line.

It wasn't fair. You still had so much to experience on earth and so many love stories to create, and you wanted to spend so much more time with Crowley and Aziraphale. They still needed to be together ! You couldn't let the End begin before you even saw the beginning of their love story. No, uh-hu! You will go down with this ship!

"How long before Armageddon ?" you asked.

"Oh, I would say around ten years."

Alright, you could do it. You just had to help two opposite beings, who spend almost all their existence together without technically being a couple, become one. Because how thing should be. And you had ten years to do so, even if you hadn't succeeded in the last 6,000 years. It could work ! You knew them and their love for humankind and their world. They would certainly team up to prevent the war and apocalypse from happening. And you were there to help. In every way. You scratched your itchy right arm.

"Right, sure... well, thanks, Mihael. Send my regards to Adriel."

"I will, thank you ! Oh, and Chamuel ordered that we lay off all the workers during the last week before the war, so we could be ready to fight."

"Mmh-hm." You nodded. Alcohol was messing up your communication skills.

"Great ! See you at the war."

When you turned, she was gone, leaving you wondering how you'd end up like this.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

(4004 av-JC)

In the beginning, you were in the Garden of Eden. You were here to supervise Adam and Eve's love development; you didn't shoot the arrow, though. They would have never let you do it anyway. Actually, every creature in the Garden had been paired up, but you didn't get the chance to create any of them. As disappointed as you were, you were not the type to overstep and you couldn't express anything. So you decided to be patient and walk around the garden discretely.

You suddenly came to a stop when you spotted something unusual slithering around the diversity of plants. You walked up to a 'lilac' tree, which looked more like a bush than anything else, and you saw an animal that was crawling on the trunk among the beautiful purple flowers. The creature was so long yet flexible that it didn't have any problem staying on such a small platform. His colours intrigued you too—mostly black with touches of red—and you had never seen anything like this quite yet. Your eyes widen, and you slightly rush to observe it further. The snake, while taken aback, didn't move and instead glared at you. His eyes were so beautiful and golden, and his scales were spotless and sleek, but touching the poor thing would certainly scare him away.

"What a beautiful thing you are... I'm glad God decided to make you !"

The creature started to retreat as soon as your words passed your lips, looking flustered. Declining his embarrassment, you chirped hapily. And with a glimmering smile, you resumed roaming around the paradise.

The wall was growing bigger and bigger as I approached one of the gates of Eden, curious to see the border and maybe get a peek on the other side—a glimpse of the barren and dry land. You were an inquisitive thing; your curiosity was way stronger than your fear. Despite anyone says or believe. But as you gently approached the door, someone called you.

"Mh, excuse me ! Little cupid ?"

Oh ! You weren't that small ! Pff, guardian angels could be so strict sometimes.

You rolled your eyes, soared up in the sky, and let yourself turn upside down to see who was interrupting your investigation.

"Yes ?" you sighed. "Mh !"

You weren't acquainted with lots of angels outside your group, but you were sure that you had already seen him before. His appearance was so welcoming, despite the raging, flaming sword that carefully remained in his firm grip. His hair was white and as fluffy as a cloud. You couldn't quite grasp his eye colour, though, which was always changing between blue, brown, and green. His human body was round and large, a body type you'd never seen before. Yet you smiled at his soft appearance. His tunic seemed to be slightly covered with bright purple petals here and there. You turned over, lying on your stomach in midair, looking at him expectantly.

"Hello." He smiled, then took a ragged breath, looking for words. "Mh, I'm afraid I must request that you not go closer to that gate."

You looked away, apologetic.

"Oh, I see... Sorry."

You were conscious of how leaving your station could get you in trouble, and being so close to the door could bring him problems as well. You sensed how agitated he was and went on to leave him in peace.

"Well, mh, good luck with, huh, guarding the door," you said, trying to look less churlish than the way you acted merely seconds ago.

"Oh well, that's kind of you." He smiled, touched by your words. "Good luck with all the love."

Seeing how thrilled he seemed made you happy. Your body was taken over by the intense emotion in your heart, and you began to fly while looping and spinning vigorously.

Suddenly, you stopped. You've never experienced anything like it. Your primary role as a cupid was to make matches between creatures by shooting them with arrows. Your vision allowed you to perceive the chances of happiness and love each creature could produce while bound by the other. There were hundreds of possibilities, and your job is to make sure your "client" finds the perfect match. In order to do so, you had to be able to identify each emotion with clarity and precision. Minimising your own emotions to work in the most efficient way possible Thus, you shouldn't feel too much emotion despite the satisfaction of your good job and all the love you could eat. And in your case, anything...

Feeling such a rush of emotion shouldn't be something you're capable of doing. You shouldn’t be feeling anything. You observed your right hand, confused and visibly shaking. Closing your eyes, feeling irrated at yourself, you marched back to where you came, hoping to find new animals to shoot to occupy your mind.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Adam and Eve were gone. Apparently, a snake—well, a demon—tempted the first human, and now they had to leave the garden. Just because they wanted answers to their questions. Needless to say, you weren't very keen to try and look beyond the wall without permission.

So you were simply floating in the air right next to the wall, waiting for an order from your Boss. Gazing up at the sky, you noticed how its blue colour darkened as the first rain approached. You sighed and decided to just go back to Heaven, hoping you'd finally get the chance to shoot at someone. Some may call you obsessive; you prefer the term persistent.

As you were sitting up and flying up. And the moment you saw the tall structure disappearing in the corner of your eye, you kept going up. But, afraid you might regret not gazing back, you dared to dart your eyes down to the rest of the world.

"Huh?" you softly gasped.

You saw the desert spreading from your heart to the horizon, arid and lonely, with the clouds darkening the land. Your heart ached as you watched what lay ahead. And as you felt your eyes water, you lowered your gaze. And the sight that welcomed me was so out of this world yet felt so... right.

An angel and a demon stood next to each other, talking and fraternising. You didn't really fight the war, but you knew how both sides hated each other. The metallic taste was already way too familiar in your mouth. But the premise of their relationship already smelled so sweet, despite a wisp of sourness.

A wave of euphoria struck you in the most unexpected way, and the sensations it brought you were simply too delightful to feel queer. You saw their bound, so precise and distinct, that you nearly thought you were a part of it. It just felt so real. So good.

You were so excited ! You beamed with all your might as you desperately tried to manifest your bow and arrows as quickly as possible.

As a novice in archery, you wanted to correctly seal the bound, so you decided to place three arrows because, like no one has said yet, "Three times' the charm". You aimed leisurely, breathing deeply and checking the quality of your multi-coloured arrows. The grey head of it is silently hurrying you to shoot.

And so you did. With a faint whistle, the arrows raced towards their target. The first one landed right in the back of the demon, on his left side. The second was pierced lower, in the calf of the angel. It didn't even hurt them; it was a great shot, really.

You retracted your arm, proud of yourself.

Then, you simply went straight back to Heaven. Still, the sky looked so dark, and the rain started to pour down on your cheeks.

And you don’t know why, but a profound need to seek comfort made you look down one last time. The guardian had stretched out his wing for the demon to hide under. So thoughtful, so caring, so warm...

You left after your first match was a success.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

(Present days)

You later learned that matching an angel and a demon was strictly forbidden. You blushed at the thought, embarrassed. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to abandon the relationship. Well, now you had to be super efficient if you wanted that ship to sail at all.

You drank down your last glass of your favourite alcohol, paid for your decent amount of beverages, and wobbled yourself towards the Aziraphale bookshop.

You weren't always invisible when you dealt with them; you gave yourself plenty of time with them along the way. They were aware that you were an angel, just not the exact type. You don't think they mind your company, but you prefer to limit your interactions.

However, you were running out of time, and you really didn't want to miss a thing. You hummed the song that sneaked into your head on your way. Once you arrived in front of the door, you tried to stabilise yourself by resting your whole weight on it. And you tumbled down into the shop. In your defence, the door was always closed !

Aziraphale and Crowley both looked towards you, shocked. Well, Crowley was more amused than anything. You rasped into the carpet and pivoted your head to greet them profusely.

"Hellooo !" you exclaimed, your tone drowsy.

"Y/N ? Why, dear, what are you doing here ?" Aziraphale promptly came to your side, helping you up.

"On the floor ? Well, I obviously just fell," you jested. You felt weightless as Crowley joined you two to carry you somewhere other than the dusty floor.

"So, you heard about the End of the world, I presume?" Crowley asked. They both let you down slowly on your assigned divan. You felt a hand brush a lock of hair out of your eye.

"Mmh." You rolled on your side to face them as they sat down on the opposite side. You'll have to work on that too.

"Yeah, someone mentioned it..." you waved. A few moments passed in silence. You guffawed when you noticed the bottle settled on the table.

"Sorry, it seems I had a bit of a head start, but go on!" You laid down on your back. "I'll wait for you to catch up"

Aziraphale shot a slight disapproving look in your direction, pouting a little, while Crowley reached eagerly for the bottle.

"Don't mind if I do," he said as he poured himself a large drink.

Shortly after, the angel followed you two. Alright, setting up the mood... This silly matter is going to be settled in a matter of hours now! You were perfectly capable of doing so. Aziraphale raised his glass to you, and you flashed your teeth. They don't know what's going their way.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

And they didn't, because your smartass decided to evacuate all the liquor from your body by sleeping.

Now, as you wake up, they're talking about dolphins. Oh, sure, what adorable and romantic sociopaths they are. It's obviously the best choice of conversation !

"Everything will just turn into bouillaba-bouil... bouilla..."

You sat up, pushing away a blanket, and listened to those dorks trying to pronounce bloody "Boui-...llabai...." Well, that dish !

"Fish stew," you concluded.

"Anyway," Crowley said with a weary tone. "It's not their fault. And that's the same with gorillas! They'll say : 'Woop, the sky's gone red! Stars crashing down ! What do they put in bananas these days ?!'" His drunkenness struck you, and you realised what Armagadon really meant.

"All the creatures..." you started.

"Whether they'd be great or small..." Aziraphale ended.

You both looked distraught. You loved all those little things; you spent countless hours discovering every one of them. The first time you saw a whale, you got so emotional that you cried. Thankfully, you were underwater, so Aziraphale, who came with you that day, didn't see your unusual sensitivity.

"And there's worse ! When it's all over, we're going to have to deal with eternity !" he yelled, his voice squeaking like that of a chipmunk.

"Eternity ?" Aziraphale wondered, disoriented. He didn't quite understand why on earth Eternity would be worse than the End itself.

"You're just upset you won't be able to listen to musicals, while we will," you teased.

"And you'll miss my very constructive critics, especially on The Phantom Of The Opera !"

"You utterly roasted it !"

You were ready to argue your arse off, but Aziraphale had his own things to say.

"I don't like it more than you do. I can't disobey... I've got to do what I'm told... right Y/N ?" He asked for your support.

"Mmh nh.. Yes, sure, but I don't think they pay attention to these sorts of things." You suddenly gagged. You weren't sure that giving back the liquor to the bartender was such an idea, but you couldn't afford to throw up.

"Maybe we should sober up."

They both agreed and quickly got sober.

"Listen, even if I wanted to help you, we just can't." Aziraphale explained while glancing at you, once again to encourage him.

"It's true, Crowley, we're angels. We cannot interfere with God's plan," you said, lying back on the couch.

"But what about Satan's plan, mh ?" His red hair framed his head, and your eyes focused on his, snake-like and wide. His whole face was encouraging you to listen further.

"It's your job, right ? Thwarting the demonic plan. Encouraging humans to be "good", mmh ?"

"No need to quote..." you sulked.

"That's broadly what we do, indeed." Aziraphale conceeded.

"With that in mind, it would be totally reasonable for you to act on the birth of the Anti-Christ. To thwart my demonic influence on the child while he grows up. I'm the only one managing his evil upbringing. Against two angels with such pure hearts, I would highly struggle to stand my ground."

Wait up, two angels ? Uh, you were getting way too involved for the two of them to easily seal the deal. You needed a way out. Aziraphale was considering the idea, giving you enough time to hastily prepare a counterargument.

"M-mh, so much good energy would change the boy too much. Everyone will realise it. I think it's too much of a risk. No, it would be best if the two of you took care of him. You know, like, uh, godfathers !"

The pleased and hopeful look on the fluffy angel's face caused you to sigh in relief. Crowley, however, was frowning. You just grinned, gathering all your charm to erase any suspicion.

"Still, he's made to be evil; surely the influence of two angels wouldn't hurt."

Think of something. You had to get those two together !

"I'll be your safety net ! Assuring the Heavens that Aziraphale is doing an excellent job !" You gestured towards him, nervous and frantic. The angel flinched slightly but didn't say anything. You nodded and smiled before turning to Crowley.

"And ! I'll mess with other people's demon jobs ! Giving them plenty of things to keep their minds off the Anti-Christ's childhood." You clapped your hands and tied your lips together, praying it would be enough.

The demon was scanning your face, taking in what you just said and your attitude. Aziraphale then faced his friend and supported your plan by taking a place beside you.

"It would be safer and less noticeable." He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him. When he noticed, he smiled in his reassuring way.

Meanwhile, Crowley had closed his eyes tightly, exhaling more air than normal humans actually had in their bodies. The dude's a balloon, apparently. His eyelids opened abruptly, and he offered his response.

"Ngh... fine."

Yay, victory.

"I can't believe I have to convince you to agree to a plan you created," you teased him.

"Er."

"It might work !" said Aziraphale happily. You hoped everything would go smoothly and that you could prevent the Earth from boiling, causing the destruction of either Hell or Heaven. You felt the angel almost wriggle next to you, and the demon smirked his way. Maybe it would be easier than you thought.

"Well, I'll be damned !" he exclaimed quietly. His brighting up the room.

"It's not so bad when you get used to it," Crowley answered mischievously.

And there it is. Hardships. Aziraphale lost his smile and looked at him with a warning. It really stuck in his craw.

"Crowley, don't they say thingz like that !" he scolded vigoursly.

"It's just a joke; don't make a big deal out of it." Crowley finally sat back, waving off Aziraphale's arguments. The angel took a step towards Crowley, standing in front of you. While he continued his rambling, the red head peeked your way and winked, obviously amused.

You rubbed your face with your hand but grinned as well. Easy ? Yeah, right.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

This is the first chapter of this series : "Two’s company, three’s a family"

I hope you enjoyed it and will stay around to see how all of this will play out.

Bye !

Parts : Next

[webslingingslasher]

hi so uh could I request a really short (like less than 1000 words) blurb for Peter of him just comforting reader with physical affection cause she's having a depressive episode please (I really need a hug omfg)

i’m at work but i really think you needed this, call it a gut feeling.

peter’s love language is physical touch to the max.

he needs a hand on you at all times, riding in the car? hand on your thigh, if you’re sitting behind him, his hand is wrapped around your ankle. watching a movie? you’ll be tucked into his side, or he’s resting his head on your chest, at the very least your legs are tugged over his lap so he has something to run his hands over. out at dinner? he’s holding your hand across the table almost the entire time, unfortunately you make him give it back when the food arrives. eating out with friends? his favorite, because then he has a reason to sit in the booth next to you and there’s nowhere that’s off limits. hands on your thighs, knees, hands, elbow, neck, face, anywhere he deemed necessary for his touch.

most times you push him off, and he doesn’t take it offensively because even he can admit when he’s being a little too much. there’s only so much you can take of being trapped under his arm in new york summer weather before you shake him off and tell him not to touch you for ten minutes because you’re about to scream. or when you’re out at dinner with friends because he really does have wondering hands, you can see when it’s getting a little much so you have to take his hand and rest it on the table with a pat or grip it in yours so tightly it’s sent into rigor mortis.

there is one time you don’t push him away, when he doesn’t think it’s possible slump into him further, the one time he truly can’t tell where you start and he stops.

he just wishes you weren’t so sad when you needed him like that.

peter thinks you fell asleep on him and he doesn’t mind one bit, sometime after finding you buried under your covers. which he knows is your hiding spot when things just get a little too rough. you’re good most times, but every once in a while you forget how special you are, and he knows when you don’t respond to his texts or snapchats or don’t show up to school.

you didn’t text him much last night and he figured you were tired or sleeping early, then you weren’t at school this morning and he would’ve thought you were feeling sick until it hit ten thirty and you haven’t responded to anything in over twelve hours. his suspicions were confirmed, you were sick, but not with a bug or virus.

peter did the only thing he could think to do, not that you’d believe him in that moment anyways, and sends you three words.

I love you.

if you were to only look at one message from him he wants it to be that, so he doesn’t send anything else for the rest of the school day.

he went straight to your place and let himself in, heading for your door where he knows you’ll be collapsed in bed and have to fight his own upset that you haven’t ate or drank water today because it’s the wrong thing at the wrong time.

sometimes he doesn’t like being right, seeing you swallowed in blankets, facing the wall with your eyes shut, he sees tear marks and doesn’t have to ask, he stopped asking months ago, it was always the same answer.

“why are you crying, hm?” he’d brush your hair away so it doesn’t stick.

and you’d sniffle and blink more tears to fall and whine, “i don’t know, it just has nowhere to go.”

“what has nowhere to go?”

you’d cry harder, “the sadness.”

sometimes there was no good reason to be so sad and it makes it worse, like you needed to justify how sad you felt.

peter took in the darkness, you pinned blankets over your windows, it was as black as you felt. he doesn’t even think you’re sleeping, just… dreading your existence.

in case you don’t know he’s in here he speaks soft and slow so he doesn’t scare you, also because cheerful doesn’t really fit the mood.

“hey, trouble. feelin’ okay?”

he knows you’re not okay, okay. but it’s not about being fine, it’s about checking in with each other because you’d swore you’d tell him if it ever wasn’t okay.

peter can’t hear you, he puts his knees on the bed and shuffles towards your back. “what’s that, mumbles?”

your fingers claw at the blanket around your mouth, “‘m okay.”

peter is the fixer, he fixes everything, you even call him your little engineer. but this is one thing he can’t and never will be able to fix but he’ll gladly hold your hand and cheer you on from the side while you fix yourself.

“wanna hug?”

and you don’t know why these cuddles, these touches, these actions of love that feel the most warming and comforting to you. he always loves you, that’s his thing, but when it’s times like these when you’re so emotionally raw and vulnerable you want to curl up and hide, peter embreases it and doesn’t tell you to hide it, it’s human and he’s happy you trust him enough to see that side and he’ll never take it for granted.

you nod, peter scoots enough to pull at your hip and pull you on your back, he’s looking down at you and doesn’t take offense when you look away.

“wanna be on top?”

sometimes you wanted peter to crush you with his weight, he used to hold back because he didn’t want to actually hurt you until one night you called him out, “peter, please I just need to feel… i don’t know.” so he let himself settle all the way down on your chest and heard how your breath caught, you gripped at his shoulder when he tried to move back up, you gasped it but you needed it, needed it for a few minutes.

“thank you, just… please stay here.”

that’s when it was really bad, you needed him to drown out the whole world, the thoughts, the insults, anything that wasn’t screaming at your brain for breath, and when he moves that first real gulp of air feels like heaven and even if it’s for one second you have two things to be grateful for.

most times, you crawled high into his lap and looped your arms around him so tight he felt like he couldn’t breathe, your face tucked into the crook of his neck, sometimes you’d dot kisses, sometimes you’d cry, and sometimes he feels nothing but eyelashes every few minutes as you blink and shut them, each attempt of opening them like, ‘you ready yet? no? alright.’

or nights like tonight, when you curl around him and doze off because you had a night where instead of sleeping for fourteen hours you stayed up blinking at the wall.

and because if you’d learned anything about his love language, he wouldn’t let go until you asked.

[theunbearableweightofpedropascal]

Mother Knows Best

Blaise Zabini x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: (angst, fucked up family dynamic)

A/N: This is the dress I had in mind in case my description doesn't do it justice. All credit to the artist here. and hair inspo (top right). Also I'm not sure why I keep writing that Blaise hates yellow but it feels right, idk.

Summary: With your parents abhorrent views you doubt they could choose a decent partner.

Word Count: 5.6k

The wizarding community was small which meant that Hogwarts was even smaller. Thankfully you had been able to slip under the radar, which in hindsight was easy since your classmate was Harry Potter. Either way, people wrote you off as timid and boring but the truth was far worse. 

Growing up everything seemed fine you came from a prestigious family that was more than respected. With that came expectations as you were told but understood, you made sure your magic was comparable to no one. You had practiced so much that there were cramps in your hand and wrist regularly. However, the expectations that your parents meant were far more nefarious than being a prefect. 

For your sorting ceremony, you had come from a family of Ravenclaw’s and Slytherin’s so when the hat called out Hufflepuff it seemed a slight pause was taken. There wasn’t explicit disappointment written on your father’s face but you knew what he would have preferred. But in his words at least you weren’t Gryffindor.

Motivation thrummed through your body to make up for less than adequate house. You’d managed to become quite knowledgeable on many subjects, even things as taboo as muggle studies. You’d never dared to take the class but had read a few books out of morbid curiosity. There was never anything explicitly anti-muggle spoken about in your household but deep down you knew better. The kind of family you were born into would never be outspoken about that sort of thing, it’s unbecoming in your mother’s words. 

After the death of Cedric Diggory, more talks of he who shall not be named permeated the community. Some believed it was an unexplainable tragedy while others were in complete denial. Not only were you disgusted by what they did to him you also felt sad for Harry, it was crystal clear what happened. Your parents on the other hand seemed unaffected, that should have been the first sign but you were too busy giving condolences to Harry. 

Next was the stream of people they contacted in the coming months. At first, none of them rang any alarm bells but more and more suspected Death Eaters would permeate your childhood home. A small riff formed between your parents and you, the seemingly loving people who raised you held such nasty views. Visits to your childhood home soon became limited to mandatory holidays under the guise of you studying for your O.W.L.s.

Soon enough you could see exactly where they stood and it terrified you. There wasn’t anyone you could turn to without fearing it would get back to your parents. 

……..

On your scheduled visit home you were indifferent to finding certain members of the Ministry leaving your parent's home. However, as your father stood before you in the foyer expectantly you couldn’t help but wonder why. Usually, it would just be your mother receiving you due to the constant stream of ‘meetings’ your father held. No words were exchanged between you two before he gestured for you to follow him to his office. 

The once warm memories that this house provided now gave way to shivers down your spine. It felt like the closer you were to approaching his office the harder your heart thundered in your chest. Uneasiness settles within you because of your father’s seemingly cold nature. 

Inside his office, he gestured to the seat across from his chair and your heart sank. Although you didn’t feel at home anymore, you didn’t have the heart to fully distance yourself. For so long all of your work was due to upholding the family name and reputation and if you let that go there was nothing else. Your mother gave nothing away while she stood off to the side. 

“As you know darling a war is brewing, and now is the time that our Dark Lord needs his loyal correspondents.” His hands on your shoulders send a cold shiver over you. “And it worries me that my daughter seems to sympathize with mudbloods.” Even though you couldn’t see his face you could only picture the defeat on his face.

“I-” Before you could attempt to defend yourself you were interrupted.

“I thought I had made my expectations for you obvious child.” Your father’s fingers dug into you causing a grimance across your face. “Only for you to embarrass me after I put all of my hopes and dreams into you.” Tears well in your eyes from the pain of both his words and his harsh grip. 

“Have I not given you everything?” In spite of how you’ve felt about his purist ways, his words cause you to scramble to reassure him. After all, you didn’t put in as much work as you had to disappoint him.

“You have and I-” The words become stuck in your throat because of how much you are trying to say at once. “I’m so sorry.” Shame has your head hanging low while your tears wet your pants. “I saw Cedric as a friend and I let my judgment get clouded.” Sobs wrack your body and your father lets his death grip go to comfort you. 

“It’s okay darling sometimes we become a little misguided. As long as we find our way back that’s all that matters.” The same hands that caused your breakdown are now nursing you back with slow circles. Your breathing begins to even out and your father takes that as his cue to continue with what this meeting is really about.

“Now that we’ve taken care of that, I wanted to talk about what we are gathered here for.” His hands clap together in what you assume is excitement, and a glance at your now-smiling mother confirms it. “Tonight we are celebrating your impending nuptials.” 

Never has your head swiveled so quickly, you weren't privy to any marriage conversations. As far as you knew you weren’t promised to anyone but you knew better than to question anything in this moment. From the corner of your eye, you see your mother leave the room and the thundering in your heart amps up once again.

“And what better family to be joined with than the Zabini’s?” Your mother is the one to drop the name of your future husband as she glides into the office again. Behind her, you see the infamous Zabini’s. Everyone is familiar with the Zabini’s, more specifically the rumored black widow Domenica Zabini. Her track record of 7 dead husbands speaks for itself. There was nothing short of perfection about their appearance, not that you expected less.

The joy on your mother’s face feels like you’re in an alternate universe, one that involves a happy family. Somehow you didn’t see the gilded cage that had slowly been closing until it was too late. If there was food in your stomach it would have been thrown up by now. 

“Don’t play coy darling, they’ve come all this way to meet you.” As if your breakdown didn’t just happen your mother ushers you out of the seat before urging you closer. “This will be good for you, for us.” The low tone of her voice leaves no room for opposition. 

Domencia’s keen eyes take you in and you almost can’t believe this woman killed her husbands. There’s nothing overtly cunning or evil-looking about her presence as one would think. Her son, on the other hand, had a menacing demeanor for someone who you’d never heard utter a word. Since Hogwarts was small his best friends Theo and Draco more than made up for his silence. 

His brown eyes are calculated while he takes you in and your heart betrays you by skipping a beat. 

“You’re even more breathtaking in person.” Were the first words you ever heard him speak and you hated to admit how your whole body fluttered. The low register of his voice made it feel like only the two of you were in the room despite your parents lurking off into the corner. 

“So the mythical Blaise does speak?” You keep your voice low like his.

“Considering you are my future wife I’d say it’s imperative.” And just like that the reality of your future comes crashing back to you. 

Blaise gently grabs your hand and brings it to his lips before running his thumb across your knuckles. His eyes never leave yours and you can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to disarm you. Either way, you remember to keep your guard up around him. 

“Is there anywhere for us to talk, privately?” Although you doubt your parents can hear you he still goes the extra mile to bring his lips to the shell of your ear.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Your eyes dart around the room in an attempt to get out of the situation you’ve landed in.

“Afraid you��ll actually come to like me, sweetheart?” Blaise, as observant of ever, notices your hesitation to him despite his very convincing charm.

“No.” Even you weren’t convinced by your answer however, you refused to give him the satisfaction. 

An amused smirk plays on his face and he finds himself more than pleased with this arrangement. The air between you was thick with undeniable tension. 

“You know,” Your mother places her hands on your shoulders gently but that doesn’t stop the small wince on your face, “You should show Blaise around the grounds since he’ll be around a lot.” 

“That would be lovely.” His award-winning smile splits his face in agreeance with your mother. 

Seeing no way out of this you tell him, “Stay close to me.” 

Many would say that your familial land is almost as grand as Hogwarts, but that only applies if you enjoy greenery. The house is incomparable to the vast amounts of land you can explore and observe. Your mother favored her garden and maze, so much so that the familial home was inconsequential to the lands she demanded. 

“I take it you weren’t as up-to-date as your parents led me to believe?” Now that you two were truly alone Blaise saw no need to hold back. 

“I wasn’t but I can’t say I’m completely upset with their choice.” The truth is they went far beyond your expectations.

“So I still have a chance?” He pulls back before the two of you are more than a couple feet from the house. “I must plead my case.” His general nature gives you pause, you’ve never met someone so magnetic.

“And what exactly is your case?” Your curiosity gets the better of you.

“We could make this a long engagement, I don’t mind a wait. Frankly, I enjoy your presence and I wouldn’t mind growing from that.” His hands reach for yours, and somehow it doesn’t seem desperate. 

“You’re making this feel so easy.” As much as you wanted to reject any man sent your way through your parents, Blaise was different. Not to mention you weren’t in a position to bargain.

“I don’t want to force you, but I will promise absolute devotion.” This time when he kisses your knuckles there’s no prying eyes, making the moment much more remarkable.

Truth be told above all else you wanted someone exactly like Blaise, but your parent's involvement sort of ruined the moment. Emotionally you were still reeling from your father’s outburst, and you know it won’t be the last. If you could keep him off your back with this there would be less pressure surrounding any future mistake. 

But that does peg the question of how you’ll fare should this relationship get serious. Would you be the first of many wives for Blaise? The thought sent a chill down your spine and there’s no way you could outright ask. For the time being you decide being a team player is most important and string Blaise along until he tires of you. 

“I would love nothing more.” Maybe you laid it on a little thick but Blaise doesn’t seem to notice or care. 

………….

With news of you and Blaise’s engagement spreading amongst the parents, you knew it wouldn’t take long for the gossip mill at Hogwarts to circulate. By the time you return from your visit whispers follow you through the corridor. 

“So you wanna tell me why everyone is talking about your engagement to Blaise?” Madeline, your closest friend, saddles up next to you as you barrel down the hall.

You slow down your fast pace to pull her into an empty classroom. “I knew my Father held some anti-muggle ideals but now he’s talking about doing the Dark Lord’s bidding. I went home this weekend to find out they had me betrothed to Blaise Zabini.” Your hands find their way to your face in an effort to rub the emotional distress out. “Not to mention he completely freaked out on me for expressing my sympathies for Harry. Mads I’ve never seen him like that, it scared me.” 

“Godric,” She made her way to stand beside you before rubbing your back in gentle circles. Madeline was first assigned as one of your dormmates, she took it upon herself to adopt you. She'd seen first-hand the immense pressure your parents put on you, and in turn the pressure you placed on yourself. “You know you’re always welcome around mine?” 

Although you did know that it would only prolong the inevitable with your parents. Nevertheless, you thank her and rest your head on her shoulder. 

“The worst part is the fact that I don't completely hate Blaise, I mean he would be perfect if my parents hadn’t been the ones to arrange it. Now it feels tainted you know?” Your eyes are glued to the floor while you pour out everything you’d had to hold in this past weekend. 

“Of course, not to mention his mother has an interesting romantic history.” You are glad that you’re not the only one who noticed. 

“But he’s so gorgeous.” You tilt your head away from your best friend with a whimsical sigh. 

“You’re preaching to the choir.” Her agreeance has you craning your neck to blink in surprise at her. 

“Not too much, he’s still my fiance.” Playfully you narrow your eyes at Mads before bursting into laughter with her joining you. 

With your spirits back up the both of you head back into the hall and make your way to the grand hall. Studying would help in taking your mind off of everything else, somehow it was relaxing. The table was decorated with textbooks as you and Madeline delved into your academics. 

“You look even more radiant when you’re focused.” That low drawl had your head quickly swiveling to meet Blaise’s eyes in surprise.

“There’s a lot I need to stay up to date on.” Your answer must have been enough for him to take a seat next to you. But you don’t let his presence deter you from your agenda. Madeline squirms in her seat across from you to get your attention only to give you a knowing look. 

“I’m sure there is,” He lets his eyes fall over your form, and warmth spreads throughout your body at his brazenness. He clears his throat before continuing, “ My mother’s hosting a party next weekend and I was wondering if you’d do me the honor of being my date?”

From the corner of your eye, you could feel Madeline’s widened eyes taking in this conversation. You’re not sure why you expected Blaise to ignore you once you returned to Hogwarts, but strangely you’re pleased he didn’t. Finally, you set your quill down to properly address him.

“I would love that,” You school your features to not look as giddy as you feel. “Any specific dress code requirements?” 

“If you don’t mind I got your measurements from your mother and had a dress commissioned.” He had the gall to look sheepish. 

“And what if I find the dress ugly? What if I had said no?” The questions fly out one after the other.

“Your mother promised me you had no shortage of beautiful gowns, and if you had said no I would have found another way to gift it to you.” His eyes peer down at you while you bashfully glance towards Madeline. Once he leaves you know you’ll never hear the end of this. 

“Well thank you,” For once you are truly rendered speechless and there is no other feeling more embarrassing. 

Blaise, as observant as ever, senses the end of the conversation and readies himself to leave. Before he completely takes off he places a folded piece of paper in your palm and closes it. When his back faces you you let your eyes wander after him with a stupid smile splitting your face. You realize too late that once he reaches his table his friends have already caught you grinning like an idiot. They proceed to clap him on the back and you quickly face Mads only to be met with a teasing grin. 

You resign yourself to laying your head on the table until the smile on your face calms down. When you unfold the piece of paper you find a rough draft of a fluffy green gown. His penmanship impressed you but his eye for detail on the various layers of dresses solidified your opinion.

…………

The box holding the dress Blaise commissioned is sitting on the ottoman by the foot of your bed. It was a deep emerald green with a light green bow wrapping around it. Your mother delivered it with a bright smile as soon as it arrived in the morning. She was adamant about opening it but you wanted to wait, even if the anticipation was killing you too.

Your parents were attending as well but they had been rather agreeable lately. Just as you assumed once you showed interest in being with Blaise they seemingly backed off. The last thing you want is a repeat of what happened.

With the sun setting you begin taking down your hair, and the curls bounce as you rub oil on them. You deliberately save the front braids for last while you finish individually placing each curl. The front of your hair is parted to the right side, and you begin gathering half into a small ponytail. You decide to leave a small piece of hair out from the right side that is curled away from your face. 

A smile graces your face at the finished product and you turn to the box that’s been calling to you all day. The note attached to the bow was the first thing you read. 

I hope the dress is up to your standards -B.Z.

You place the note on your bed and untie the bow before lifting the top. A lavish hunter-green bustier greets you, before fully pulling it out you take note of the silver and black jewels lining the entire top. You carefully grab the strapless top to pull it out of the box and a gasp involuntarily leaves your mouth at the mass of the dress. 

Flowers made of sheer fabric litter the waist and sage green fabric lines the sides of the dress. Layers of tulle overlap with leafy designs that feature silver accents. You had never seen a dress as beautiful as the one in front of you, Blaise clearly had an eye for fashion. The drawing he gave didn’t do the dress enough justice.

Progressively you place the dress on the floor and step into it. Perfect is the only word to describe it as you gaze at yourself in the mirror. Even in low light, the jewels sparkle enticingly and you note that he used his house color on you. You do a spin before heading to your jewelry box, only to find that you missed a matching necklace and earring set at the bottom. The dangly earrings remind you of snowflakes and the necklace matches the gems atop your dress.

“Please tell me you’re rea-” Your mother bustles into your room but pauses mid-sentence at you. “My, you look stunning.” She slowly circles you before noting the jewelry in your hand and she gestures for you to face the mirror. She delicately takes out your stud earrings and replaces them with the one Blaise gifted you. When she reaches into the box for the necklace a gasp, much like your earlier one, leaves her red-tinted lips.

“When he asked me about your measurements I never expected this.” She circles her arms over your head to gingerly lay the necklace over your sternum. Her polished nails circle your shoulders for a gentle squeeze, “Let's finish up before your father storms in here.” 

She sits you down on your vanity chair before pulling out a brown lipstick and gloss. You tilt your head back to allow her an easier time and her sweet perfume fills your nostrils. Once she finishes she steps back to admire her handiwork with a smile. She opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by your father’s call.

“We are now thirty minutes late,” The both of you share a silent laugh before heading downstairs to put on shoes and meet your father. 

………..

Blaise is bored out of his mind waiting for you, he was surrounded by friends but it was clear he was anxiously awaiting your arrival. Although he thought you would like the dress he couldn’t be sure, maybe it was a bad idea to not consult you. 

“Oh cheer up Zabini your girlfriend’ll be here soon.” Theodore’s quip was met with laughter from Draco. 

“Not girlfriend, fiancee.” Malfoy corrects Theo before Blaise can open his mouth to say the same thing. While they laugh Blaise rolls his eyes before scanning the hall once more. Theodore could sense how his friend felt despite him trying to downplay it.

“Is there an actual ring or is this a vocal agreement?” Draco decided to push his limits 

“There’s plenty of rings but we aren’t there yet kind of like you and Astoria.” Draco rolls his eyes at the reminder of his love life. “And who knows when a woman will become agreeable to your presence Nott.”

Both boys exchanged looks of amusement at Blaise’s snappy tone.

Time seems to stand still when he spots you at the entrance of his mother’s grand hall. His heart thunders as he realizes you are wearing the dress he helped create. The low light of the room captures the shimmering jewels that line the dress and he can’t recall anyone as lovely as you. For once he is rooted in place unable to fulfill the greeting he had prepared.

“I think I understand now mate.” Theodore is stumped in place as well when he follows Blaise’s line of sight.

Everyone in the hall spares a glance at you, how could they not? The dress gives the illusion that you are gliding across the floor. His mother intercepts your family and focuses on you. It’s obvious she’s fawning over how alluring you are. Your eyes scan the crowd scantily and Blaise takes that as his cue.

“I’ll catch up with you two later.” He doesn’t spare his friends a glance as he makes his way through the crowd to you.

When your eyes lock with his he internally melts, the closer he gets the more you steal his breath away. A symphony with booming music plays in his head to match his beating heart. 

You straighten your posture when Blaise stands before you in a three-piece emerald green tailman suit. His hand collects yours before bowing to kiss your knuckles, and after he comes up you curtsey before him. Your dress pools around you in the most elegant way before you slowly come up again. It was nearly impossible to rip his eyes away from you but he had to greet your parents before whisking you off. 

“Would you mind excusing us?” Blaise’s polite manner brings joy to your mother’s face and approval to your father's. 

“Of course not,” Your mother and Domencia are quick to shoo you and him away. 

His hand glides around to the small of your back while he guides you to the refreshment table. The array of food makes it hard for you to pick anything and he senses your indecision. He hands you a plate to pick as much as you want.

“Thank you, for the dress it really is amazing. Your drawing was beautiful but I never expected anything like this.” The sparkle in your eyes is all he wanted to see. 

“Anything for you.” His declaration left you speechless once again so you focus on picking your food. 

He then leads you to your table to eat but you hesitate before moving to sit. Blaise angles your body and dress to sit comfortably in his lap. Your stomach flutters for the umpteenth time and you try to look anywhere besides his face. 

“This was your plan all along huh? Create this elaborate dress so I’m woefully dependent on you.” You begin trying the various foods on your plate while Blaise watches you. 

“If I’m being honest I wish I had come up with that, but I did want to see you in a beautiful gown. Maybe steal a dance or two.” His complete focus was on you enjoying your treacle tart. 

“Nobody else is dancing though,” You spare a glance around to find everyone mingling while the live band plays quietly. 

“So?” His head was being cradled by his large hand as he searched your eyes. 

“You must be the fiancee, we’ve heard so much about you.” Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott step into view on the other side of the table.

“I kind of miss Zabini when he was quiet and mysterious.” Theodore jokingly pouts his lips at Blaise before taking his seat. 

“Fuck off,” Blaise tries to look annoyed but everyone catches the slight crack in his face. 

“The only Blaise I’ve encountered is the lovesick puppy variant.” The boys roar with laughter at your one-liner. 

“As much as I love this conversation, I should probably do a couple of laps around the room,” He places his hands on your hips before addressing you, “You think you’ll be okay with these vultures for a couple of minutes?” 

“I think I’ll be alright,” The mischievous grin on your face convinced him and you stood up so he could fulfill his hosting duties. 

“That's the spirit,” Malfoy clapped his hands at your willingness to entertain them. “Shall we get you a drink to catch up with us?” 

“As long as it’s fire whiskey.” Your agreeance has them flagging down the nearest server for a round of glasses. 

Surprisingly talking with Draco and Theo is easy, mostly because they’ve been shit-talking Blaise. You keep your intake of whiskey to two glasses to keep your wits about you. This wasn’t that kind of party. 

They tell the story of how Blaise was knocked off his broom by an ex-girlfriend's spell. A re-enactment of how he flailed for 30 feet ensued but luckily the table was toward the back. You’d been breathing in short bursts for the past few minutes and you hope for a reprieve.

“Alright if you all don’t mind I’ll be stealing her for a dance,” Blaise’s hand stretches out to you before he calls, “M’lady.” 

One last giggle escapes from your lips when you place your hand in his and slowly rise from your chair. On the way to the middle of the floor, you realize the band is playing a much louder tune than before. Blaise’s steps slow and his hand guides you around to the front of him while your dress flows flawlessly. 

Each of you repeats the bow and curtsey from earlier but this time you keep eye contact. Once both of you are upright you wait for the musical cue to begin your first step. When the violinist begins their solo you step forward attaching one hand to his right shoulder and the other in his left hand. His hand envelops yours before sliding down to the small of your back, just above the flowers.

Just like you thought you two were the only ones about to dance, and people were quickly realizing that. 

“Don’t look around, I want to see those beautiful eyes aimed at me.” With warm cheeks, you gaze up at Blaise who smiles back at you taking the first step in the dance. Completely confident in your steps, you follow his lead while he guides you in circles.

“This dress is the best gift anyone’s ever given me and don’t even get me started on the jewelery, thank you.” You step back as Blaise raises his arm to spin you, showcasing the multiple layers of tulle whirling around you. 

“Does this mean I need to begin drafting another?” The moment you step back into each other’s space it feels as if the whole room is empty save for you two.

“If I could make a request, would you mind yellow?” The slight grimace crossing his face makes you laugh.

“And your very first flaw rears its ugly head.” You swallow the chuckle that wants to escape so that you can back away from Blaise once more. This time you both take a step to your left before holding your palms close but not touching. With your left hand behind your back, you keep your eyes on the only person in the room as you walk in a circle. 

“Where would I even wear another dress like this?” Events like this don’t exactly happen every week.

“I’ll plan another party for you.” His words cause your heartbeat to thunder in your chest you almost thought he could hear it. 

All playful banter between you ceased and all that could be heard were the strings of violins increasing in tempo. At the same time, you turn so that your right hand can hold a sliver of space between them. Something within his eyes made a jolt run through your body as if you took Amortentia.

With the tempo slightly decreasing it was time for you to stand side by side, facing the fireplace and his hand guiding you backward. Now that the both of you are facing each other once again you circle the other in a figure-eight motion. If you were thinking about anything other than Blaise you would feel ridiculous but there was nothing else running through your mind. 

His mouth firmly remains in a smile and yours mirrors his if the strain in your cheeks had any say. Your dance comes to an end when you face each other before your last curtsey. Applause fills the room and you remember you’re not alone. 

“I think it’s time for a tour.” Blaise bends down to speak lowly into your ear and a shiver runs down your spine.

“I would love that.” You place your hand on his bicep and follow his lead out of the ballroom.  

The corridors are dim with only candles lighting your path. Your heels click rhythmically in time with Blaise’s steps, echoing off the walls. 

“You’re enjoying yourself I take it?” Even though he meant to sound sure you could hear the doubt in his voice.

“I love it, I love this dress, and spending time with you isn’t terrible.” Everything about tonight has been great and you were starting to come around to the idea of actually being with Blaise. Maybe the deal with his mother’s dead husband had a logical explanation. 

“That sparkle in your eye tells me it’s a little better than terrible.” He slows to a stop before sliding his arm around your waist. An alcove that has stained glass lets the moonlight shine through allowing the colors to reflect off your skin. 

“It would kill me to admit my parents are right.” Your whisper causes the biggest smirk to split his face and you almost retract your statement. 

“It would kill me if you were to let that stop you.” Both of his hands find themselves planted on your waist playing with the jewels.

After a moment of looking at you his thumb and forefinger lift your head so he can press his lips delicately to yours. You tilt your head to kiss him back while your hands find purchase on his biceps. The way his thumb caresses your cheek makes you lose all inhibitions. Suddenly your hand wraps around the back of his neck to bring his lips closer, your poor dress getting squished in the process. 

It felt like the two of you were molded together, if someone walked past they wouldn’t know where you end and Blaise begins. A groan sounds from him as he slides his hand from your face to the back of your neck, balling his fist full of your hair. When he pulls a gasp leaves your lips and allows him to slide his tongue in. 

“Godric, save that for the honeymoon.” Theodore’s voice and Draco’s laugh feel like cold water being poured over you. Blaise’s hand leaves your hair but stays around your waist while you keep both of your hands at your side. Lip gloss makes his lips irregularly shiny and you're tempted to wipe it but you're interrupted. 

“Your mother’s asking for the both of you, so we did you a favor and came ourselves.” Draco smiles before raising his glass of fire whiskey and tipping it back.

You and Blaise begin leading the long trek back to the ballroom. 

“They’re going to breed like gnomes.” There was no telling who mumbled that out but it resulted in laughter spilling out from everyone.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

Well here I am ehehehe >:]

Santino having a breakdown and he breaks stuff around him, whatever he grabs and well accidentally hurt himself. John tries to calm him down and help him AGHH JOHN GET YOUR MAN HE IS HAVING A BREAKDOWN

Just get everything sharp or that can break away from him when he's like that, see what happens 😭

Hello hello! I’ve been thinking about this scenario all the time, ever since your asks for “Salt in the Wound” and “A Slap from a Saint”!! I made it really sad, like those fics.

🖤💙 The Boy in the Picture Frame 💙🖤

TW: panic attack, crying, accidental self-harm, blood, past physical and emotional abuse by a parent, discussion of disownment

John had spent all afternoon texting, in between pacing around his living room. He was trying to keep his lover talking - giving in to his flirting and doing anything possible to make him laugh. Santino was upset by a mistake he'd made the day before during negotiations with a Ruska Roma representative. The man had tricked him into boasting about the ferocity of his forces, revealing critical information about how security operated for the Camorra in New York. It was a rookie mistake, made because he was running on high emotions and little sleep, and Santino was taking it hard. It could mean punishment from the Camorra.

So, when John looked down at the screen and saw, "I'm sorry I just can't keep talking right now. Something came up, but don't worry," he froze.

Was it too much to call? Santino probably just wanted to be alone, and if that was the case, he'd be annoyed. But...well, better annoyed than hurt if things were really bad.

The shaky voice on the other end did nothing to encourage him. "John, please. I have someone on the other line. I just...he's really angry with me."

"Who? ...Your father?"

"I can't - I...." He switched to the other call again and was gone.

Suddenly, John found himself in his car and found that the speed limit was a mere suggestion.

They didn't live so far apart - Santino had chosen an apartment close to his boyfriend on purpose, and even gave him a second key. But by the time he burst through the door, it was already too late to stop Santino from getting hurt. John made his way through a trashed living room, stepping around overturned chairs and over glass from a broken picture frame, and calling Santino's name without any response.

He noticed, with a bittersweet twinge in his heart, that their photo together from Santino's birthday at the beach was the one thing that seemed untouched. Santino had chosen instead to destroy a family portrait, including both his parents, a young Gianna, and his own chubby face at four years old. Looking more closely, John noticed a smear of blood across the edge of the frame. He had torn out the picture, heedless of the jagged glass, and ripped the image in half...straight through little Santino.

A muffled, wounded sound in the bathroom distracted John from the horrible sympathy that was threatening to crush his ribcage. "Santino?" He ran to the bathroom door. It was unlocked and there, finally, was his lover - although the sight of him couldn't be called a relief. He was sitting on the ground against the wall with alarming red droplets glistening all around him and a messy bandage trailing from his hand. The only reason he wasn't actively sobbing seemed to be the shock of John's sudden entrance.

"What - John?"

John dropped to his side, not knowing what to say. He felt huge in that room, as if he might crush Santino further. His hands hovered over Santino's shoulders, wondering whether it was okay to touch him, before Santino just collapsed against his chest and started crying even harder.

"Thank you," he managed after a few minutes. "Thank you for coming. And look at the thanks you get in return... I got blood all over your shirt." He laughed hollowly.

"It's okay." John took his half-bandaged hand and felt him wince. "Sorry." He started unraveling the gauze. It was a pretty deep cut in Santino's palm, probably from grabbing carelessly at the broken picture frame. At least it didn't look bad enough to need stitches, but Santino was incredibly tense at every touch.

"You don't have to do that. I can do it myself."

"I know. But I don't want you to have to do that anymore." They'd talked about this - how it brought back bad memories for Santino to treat his wounds alone, as he'd had to do in childhood.

"I'm sorry, John. I was so stupid."

"No." That was all, a simple rejection of the very idea that any of this was Santino's fault. John didn't trust himself to say more without getting angry - not even remotely at Santino, but at all the people who had failed him throughout his life. He kissed the finished bandage and then looked up at Santino's anguished, watery eyes. "Do you have another copy of that picture?"

Santino hesitated. "It's on a flash drive. I think Gianna has it. But I don't want it anymore. I think..." He took a deep breath, on the verge of saying something crucial. "I think I'm not a part of my family anymore."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well...my father asked me to come back to Italy. He said I'm failing out here in New York, and he wants me to come back immediately. And I'm not doing that. Fuck him." He laughed, and it wasn't so hollow this time.

John couldn't help grinning. "Good."

"Good? That's all?" Another laugh. John could feel him getting stronger in his arms. More at ease. "You really never say anything, even at a time like this. I'm still getting used to it."

John thought for a moment. "No, it's not all. I want to know why you ripped through the picture of your own face instead of theirs."

He tensed up again. A long time passed before he spoke, but John had promised never to judge him. Always to listen. So, finally, he extended some trust. "I fucked everything up. I was broken from the start. I was weak. That's why he..."

Again, "No."

A mocking reply, dripping with stubborn, defensive sarcasm, "Yes." John could hear the wavering undertone. Really? Do you promise? Say it again.

"No. You were hurt. It's not on you. They lost you and not the other way around."

The reassurance was too much for Santino and he crumpled against John's chest again. For a while, John held him, listening to his sobs and to the dripping sink. In his rush to try to patch himself up, he must not have shut it off properly. He must have been struggling. John wove his fingers deeper into his hair, trying to massage self-love straight into his brain.

"Do you think Gianna will still talk to you?"

He huffed and pulled back again, tired but finally calm. "...Maybe. In secret. Who cares?"

"Well, I still want you to get a copy of that picture if you can."

"Why?"

"I want to cut out the little Santino and frame him by himself, for my mantlepiece. He was the good part. You are the good part. Not the rest of them."

[snapscube]

hey big fan of your channel and art!! was wondering if for the midnight snap series what kind of sound design you were doing it rlly sounds nice!! (also smth that could be nice with it is maybe a little bit of like tape saturation or something might be able to make the audio sound "warmer" if youre like not already doing something like that already, but you probably know better than me!!) feel free to ignore that, but wanted to say in general its so well done and sounds so good!!! its really cozy and nice!!

hey thank you!!! yeah i'd.... genuinely LOVE to talk about my thinking and approach behind the sound design, i'm actually so happy you asked me this LOL this is the kind of shit i live for.

you might assume that it's just me recording the game audio and talking quietly with my normal stream settings, and that is kinda how it STARTS, but there's actually a bit more i've been doing behind the scenes :) nothing too crazy just yet but a little goes a long way when it comes to sound! i'm hoping to really nail down the soundscape and increase the quality over time and specifically up the soothing vibes by a lot. as well as get a little better about mic etiquette and my style of speech. BUT in terms of what i'm doing in post:

the first piece of the puzzle and definitely one of the most important sauces in the whole mix is the Hard Limiter. it does what you might imagine it does, basically just places a hard barrier and says "any sounds that exceed this volume.... no you don't", sort of like a much more intense compressor. currently i have a Hard Limiter on both my commentary AND the game audio, commentary i have set to peak at around -15 to -12 db, whereas game audio is more around the -23 to -20 range. in my more polished audio from later in the AC episode it's enough difference that one doesn't drown the other out in most cases, but not a wide enough gulf that people are struggling to pay attention to one in particular or have to frequently change volume (preferably they don't have to change it at all!). i took this screenshot of the episode's complete waveform when rendering out the audio-only version of AC part 1 and it was super satisfying cause like.... yeah. this is exactly the kind of waveform read i was going for. just super even and smooth across the board, save for a couple anomalies i'll buff out over time.

the next thing i do to both my own commentary and the game audio is actually just cutting down on harsher, higher frequencies with an EQ and just upping the bassier, warmer tones. i started with something super small in the first couple of episodes, i'm probably gonna go a bit harder on it for future stuff though. i wanna find a balance that doesn't make the game sound unrecognizable or anything but is noticeably easier on the ears and sounds more like a nice rolling wave rather than beep boop pac-man time.

past this i have a couple more things added to the commentary track:

to intensify the previous effect mentioned and cut down on harsh frequencies in my speech, i actually have a dedicated de-esser on my voice as well as my usual warmer EQ. i have the de-esser going pretty hard too, you might hear the difference from my usual stream commentary if you were to listen closely. really just taking those harsh t's and s's in my speech and making them sound more like a nice "shhhh", this one is super important i think

last thing i have to speak on otherwise is actually a plugin i found and bought specifically for this show and ends up being subtle but i think SUUUPER helpful in the long run, and that's this plugin called "spiff". spiff is a plugin by oeksound and i guess it's referred to as like, a transient editor? i'm actually not sure how it works at all on the nitty gritty level BUT the important thing is that they have a very important preset in the software, and that is a preset specifically designed to lessen and/or remove like... mouth sounds. yknow like lip smacks and the like. just kinda the gross smacks and clicks you don't hear as much in normal speech but can come through really intensely on a recording and kinda make ya uncomfortable. it obviously doesn't remove a lot of the more intense stuff, it's not a magic wand in my experience. but listening to the output of what it's removing on its own makes it REALLY clear there's a lot of little things it picks up and just kinda makes speech more soothing to listen to. not something i'm racing to apply to my normal streams, BUT for a sleep aid series where good audio is key????? 100% worth it, i like it a lot.

anyway yeah that's about it for now! a lot of it is pretty simple in and of itself but it's stuff i've been working at and experimenting with since i first started doing tests for the show and it's gonna be real nice to keep honing this stuff in. also cool suggestion with the tape saturation idea, i might look into something like that! once i nail stuff like leveling and frequency tuning for this show, i wanna look into some fancier ways of making the soundscape unique to this show compared to my normal streams so ideas like that are super helpful!

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Make Do

Author's note: Catius in Living waters. Thank you to @egrets-not-regrets for letting me borrow their OCs Erriox and Lenora. And helping with getting their voices right. I love writing with you! :). Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow their OC Cedric.

Summary: Catius meets Erriox and Lenora for the first time.

Warnings: Brief suicidal thoughts, let me know if I need to add anything else.

Past =-= Next

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Catius was scratching at his chin, growing a beard is itchier and more annoying than he’d thought it’d be. No wonder most of his older brothers of the Ultramarine chapter preferred to be clean shaven, it was easier to upkeep and less messy when eating and clean up for afterwards. 

Still, it was too much effort to try and shave, one of the times he’d tried to the razor had looked more tempting to draw it against one of his wrists then against his face full of bristles. As soon as he’d had that thought, he’d recoiled, but blinked as he’d saw his hand move, almost on it’s own towards one of his wrists. 

Catius had shaken his head and dropped the razor, it floated in the water and he rubbed his face groaning a little before grabbing the razor and staring at it as it shined in the hazy light. After he’d had that thought Jophiel had come zooming into their designated bathing area and had whined about needing help with his wings. Again.

He tucked the razor back where it was supposed to go as he followed after Jophiel with an amused huff as he helped Jophiel sort out his wings. Claude comes swimming over to help with Jophiel’s other wing. Catius smelled a ‘trap’ and highly suspected that Claude and Jophiel were going to try and convince him to meet with Erriox and Mama Lenora.

They do, in fact, plead their case as to why he should meet with Erriox and Mama Lenora, and why them first. Ah- they have a bet going with Ramiel and Cedric, to see which pair could get him to meet the … the new Authority figures and adoptive family members that his closest people were very fond of.

It had taken some soul searching, but as the Codex had stated, knowing one’s self and one’s flaws and limitations helped one be able to overcome them. As well as how to protect your weak points and how to not have them used against you, as much as you can, at least. 

He’d realized, much to his chagrin, that due to… due to how he and his Primaris Brothers were trained on Mars, and… and what had happened prior to him coming to Ancient Terra… he seems to have developed a deep seated terror and fear of Authority Figures.

 It’s something his fellow Primaris Brothers have as well, to a lesser extent, and mostly for those who are older and of their chapter and/or geneline. The only way to overcome a fear, is to face it head on, and with, ideally support, and to try to use logic instead of emotion.

That had seemed so easy to understand and read on pages but trying to do that in practice is much harder, and far more… messy than he’d anticipated, even though he knows that war and in actuality is where plans and reason goes to die, frequently, often and in twisted way that blow up or worse so, so spectacularly.

He notices Cedric swimming into the designated bathing area, but gets distracted by Jophiel and Claude some more. Ramiel is heading over to the three of them with one of his Chaplain Expressions on his face. Oh no. He doesn’t want to deal with that, not at all. 

“So… when do you want me to meet Lenora and Erriox?” Catius says calmly to Jophiel and Claude, both of them perking up at his question, both of them grinning brightly at him.

“I’ll go talk to Mama Lenora and big brother Erriox,” Jophiel says, “And ask them where they want to meet you!’

“I’ll talk to Mara and the Gannet Aunties and cousins about meeting you as well.” Claude says with a grin.

“I didn’t say anything about meeting the Gannet Aunties and harpies!” Catius protests.

“Well- they know about you, and are likely to have a meeting spot on the beaches near the cliff face where they live,” Claude says, “And so it’s better to let them know that you’re there to meet Mama Lenora and Big Brother Errriox, and have them not worry so much.”

“And then have them descend on me to say hi as well,” Catius says, eyes narrowing a little, “I remember the reactions each of you first had to the Gannet Harpies- and how overwhelming in a good way they were.”

“It won’t seem like it at the time,” Cedric pipes up, having tucked something metal into a pocket, “but it will be good for you- it was good for us, just… let them know when you need some space to… recharge. And it’ll be fine.”

“... I guess,” Catius says with a heaving grumbling sigh.

At least Ramiel’s expression had shifted to less of a worried-assessing-Chaplain expression, to more of a happy-brother-cousin look. He rubs his face and winces, “If I’m going to be meeting so many people, I have to look presentable. And this fuzz on my face isn’t very presentable, is it?”

“If you don’t want to look like half a fuzzy peach…” says Jophiel teasingly, “Then yeah!”

“Brat!” Catius says as he grabs Jophiel and puts him into a headlock and rubs his knuckles against the other’s short hair. Jophiel’s flailing squeaks and whines are music to his ears.

His eyes catch the armor- of his fallen Primaris Marine and his hearts grows heavier. It’s not Apothecary Armor, and isn’t the right colors. But- but, if they could find a trusted smith (likely a Salamander… or if Erriox truly is legit) perhaps him, to help repurpose the armor into something that Cedric could use.

He lets go of Jophiel once he believes the other is properly sorry for being a smart ass… for approximately five seconds at least. He swims to the bathing area and tries to find the shaving razor and can’t find it. 

Catius frowns, he knows he put it away properly, and he searches the entire area for the Throne-cursed thing. He pokes his head out and asks, “Do any of you know where the shaving razor went? I can’t find the accursed thing.”

“I was sharpening it,” Cedric says, there is something odd to his tone of voice that has Catius eyeing his Apothecary cousin-brother through narrowed eyes.

“Can I have it back?” Catius asks as he arches an eyebrow, crossing his arms of his chest.

“Sure- I finished sharpening it,” Cedric says easily, even though there is an… odd tension to the other’s shoulders.

Catius shrugs and grabs it, “I’ll sharpen it once I’m done with it.”

He shaves his face easily and cleanly, making sure to get his face nice and clean as he finishes sharpening the razor and then putting it away properly. He’s told by Jophiel and Claude that they are going to meet him near the beaches of the Rock where the Gannet Harpies live in four days.

Catius nods and tries not to grow more anxious and nervous as he thinks about what kind of gifts to bring them. Iron Warriors and Ultramarines have a rocky history- what with one Chapter turning Traitor, and the other saying Loyal. 

His stomach seizes a little as he knows that the older space marine will have some pointed questions. Especially when he only sees one Ultramarine Scout, instead of four with a Veteran Sergeant watching over them.

… 

Hopefully something more true than lies would work. He’d arrived on Ancient Terra alone, uncertain if his brothers still lived on in their far-flung time, or where scattered to the seven seas of Ancient Terra. He really hopes Erriox doesn’t ask why he doesn’t try to join up with a Loyalist Sons of Guilliman shoal. 

Although again, he has an answer that has more truth than lies in it, that his vox system is busted, he can receive messages, but not send them. Besides- he has a duty to help his fellow Primaris brothers that he’s found… Several of them are Specialists, rare, and valuable ones at that.

He picks through his collections of rocks, shells and other interesting bits and bobs, hoping that they’ll work out nicely as gifts for Lenora and Erriox. He keeps them in separate satchels so that they don’t rub up against each other and break.

Catius follows after Jophiel and Claude, occasionally chiming in on their conversation, mostly he thinking about things. About hypothetical scenarios and what could happen, what are the best case scenarios, what are the worst case scenarios, what are the most likely scenarios to occur, what are the least likely scenarios that could happen.

‘I wonder what would happen if-’ Catius thinks as he starts to slow his swimming speed as he thinks, and thinks, and thinks, but is interrupted by Jophiel calling out.

“Catius!” His annoying baby cousin-brother shouts out, “Ground control to Catius!”

“What?” Catius says as he tries not to snap his teeth at the other irritatedly at having his thoughts interrupted.

“You were lost in your head,” Jophiel says poking one of his cheeks, “Stop it. Overthinking will do you no good.”

“I wasn’t over thinking!” Catius says defensively.

“... Uh huh,” Jophiel says unconvinced as he loops one of his arms around one of Catius’s arms and tugging him through the water at a faster pace, “sure. I believe that.”

Catius scowls at the sarcastic little shit and calls him as such, tugging on one of the other’s ears reprimanding, to which Jophiel whines and flails dramatically for the “Bully! You are Bullying me! Claude… help!”

Claude turns back and snorts, “With what?”

“Catius is being mean!” Jophiel whines at Claude. 

The Ravenguard snorts at that, saying sarcastically. “Sure, he’s the meanest at times.”

“And don’t you two forget it,” Catius says, playing along with the silliness. 

They reach the beach where they had agreed to meet with Lenora and Erriox, all three of them activating their swimming through the air abilities, as crawling on a beach is terribly ungainly and ungraceful, also mildly painful.

Jophiel says, “I’m going to go say hi to our Gannet Aunties and Cousins, see y’all in a bit.”

“Have fun,” Catius and Claude say at the same time.

Claude lazily swims through the air for a bit, peering nearby a cliff and a scowl appears on his face.

“What is it?” Catius asks him, concerned.

“Those damned Hydra are being nosy.” Claude says, “I’ll drive them off.”

“... Good luck with that?” Catius says, “Holler if you need rescue from the clutches of the Hydra.

“I will if I do.” Claude says as he swims off through the air to go keep the Hydras from coming over here and pestering the already anxious enough Catius. 

Catius doesn’t mind being alone, even if that means the thoughts in his heads slowly, and steadily grow louder and his hearts sometimes race as he rubs his sweaty hands against his scales to get them dry.

He turns his head when he hears something and spots the First Born Iron Warrior swim up to him from the ocean and he dips his head in a greeting. “Hello Sir, Jophiel and the others have talked a lot about you and Miss Lenora.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Erriox says as he eyes the blue and gold colored Scout. He tilts his head a little and asks. “Where’s your shoal?”

“You’ve met them,” Catius says with a blink, “It’s Jophiel, Claude, Cedric, and Ramiel.”

“Yeah- they’re your friends, but you are a Scout, and an Ultramarime at that, your kindred don’t let you Scouts out in units less than five,” Erroix says, crossing his arms as he gazes at him, eyes sharp and assessing.

Catius can’t keep looking into Erriox’s face the whole time as he speaks, looking away as he says, “... I haven’t been able to find other living Ultramarines or Sons of Guilliman yet, sir.”

Erriox narrows his eyes further at Catius’s words, before he can continue, they both turn to see an Ospery Harpy landing as she calls out to Erriox, her clawed hands on her hips, “Now Erriox, what have I said about being nice to the Fledglings?”

Erriox huffs at that and backs off a little, “I’m so curious about these boys- plenty of mysteries and secrets, especially for Scouts their age. For his kind of Scout-ling, its rare to see him on his own. I should have a scowling Sargent breathing down my neck. And four other chirpy little Scouts watching me from the water, and yet- there’s no one but us.”

Erriox has questions- he as a lot of questions, more now that he’s met Catius. The two Black Templars are both Specialists of rare specialties. Claude is a… raven guard? He thinks- seems like a normal battle brother, scout aged. 

Jophiel is a winged Librarian son of Sanguinius. He knows how hideously overprotective all Sons of the Ninth Primarch are of their Librarians, of their brothers with wings- and those with both? Especially so. 

Alas, he needs the Scouts to trust him, before he can begin to have his questions answered. Which really grinds his gears about that- like sand chafing against his scales, which is itchy, annoying and constantly at the back of his mind.

His train of thought is broken when Lenora’s wing nudges him. She laughs and gently scolds her mate, “I’m sure there’s more time for questions in the future, no need to overwhelm the poor fledgling here. Jophi would be upset if you scared him off.”

She turned to Catius with a friendly smile, “You are Catius, right? Jophi and Claude talked quite a bit about you.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Catius says with a polite nod, peering down at her with intense ocean blue eyes, “They have talked a lot about the two of you. I’d like to thank you both for your kindness and care. Especially to Jophiel- he’s… a lot more sure of himself and steady than I’ve ever seen him before.”

He rifles through his satchels and pulls out some really neat rocks and shells, “I brought gifts for you both.”

Catius shifts a little, his tail moving, showing his anxiety with the way it flicks from side to side, he is a little uncertain, “Even Ramiel and Cedric seem to be doing a lot better as they’ve gotten to know the two of you as well.”

“Thank you.” She takes his gifts with a smile, being reminded of the way her other fledglings had been when they first met.  Lenora’s gaze became warm, “They have changed quite a bit, haven’t they…” she pauses feeling Erriox’s tail curl around her, “I’m glad you all have each other to lean on. It seems you have a deep sense of brotherhood among you.”

Catius nods, a fond smile brightening his features, “They are doing a lot better, and I’m glad to have found them all again… Being on Ancient Terra is a Second Chance… a way to have things… hopefully go better.”

He’s heard bits and pieces from his brothers, on what’s happened to them. The only one who’s kept his mouth shut and hasn’t told a single one of them what happened just before they’d found themselves on Ancient Terra is Jophiel. Which worries him, what happened to them all sucked in one way or another.

“... Did you have any questions?” Catius asks, “I’ll try to answer some of them.”

Erriox rumbled a reply, “Your brothers have told us bits of stories about each other, you included.”

“That’s good,” Catius says, not sure what to say next. “... Do you… know someone who can fix or alter armor?”

Atlas’s armor is going to not-rust, as Ceramite doesn’t rust, but it shouldn’t go to disuse or disrepair. Not when Cedric doesn’t have a lick of armor of his own. It’s just… none of them knows how to alter or change it, other than painting (and they don’t have the paint to change the colors) to alter it to better fit Cedric.

“I can take a look at it. Depending on what needs to be done, I can fix it or know someone who can.” The Iron Warrior assured him. 

“The armor is mostly whole,” Catius says slowly, “Just some holes where… Predators of the Mad-Void Sea attacked him. I … received a distress call from one of my fellow Primaris Ultramarines…I was unable to find him in time to administer first aid, but I was able to recover his body, so that Cedric and Ramiel could administer last rights. It’s not the right colors- and doesn’t have the Specialist bits, but Cedric really should get some armor.”

“I’m sorry about your brother, Catius.” Lenora replied. 

“I had thought he was already lost to me,” Catius says, “thank you for your kind words Miss Lenora.”

Erriox understands what Catius means. Repurposing their fallen battle-brothers’ armor is something that’s done. It’s hearts-breaking, weary work. Not something that Scouts so young usually have to contend with doing fully on their own, at least, not unless they are a Lamenter, those poor sods. 

At least, from what he’s heard about the Lamenters from brothers and cousins from post-heresy. More than observing and helping move the bodies, then from the way that Catius’s eyes had grown haunted, the poor Scout likely found his brother’s cooling body and then dragged the dead weight back to the rest of the Scouts.

He’d seen a new sorrow, and sadness in the other Scouts recently, and he and Lenora had tried to gently press, but had gotten some vague answers. Grief is a bitter, old friend to Erriox, and so is Death are two of the constant companions that he’s known since he’d become an Aspirant for the Iron Warriors. He’s only grown more familiar with them over the centuries.

“Bring it to the nest and we can have a look at it and see what can be done. If the armor is mostly whole, it will only be a matter of fitting it to Cedric. For the more specialized parts of apothecary armor, that will have to wait. I’m sure Cedric would have no issue wearing basic armor for now.” Erriox will have to ask around his apothecary brothers and see what they know. 

“Yes sir,” Catius says with a nod, he starts to say something else, but struggles to get the words out, glance at Erriox, at Lenora and the ground. “There is… there are other things we were able to…”

He glances at Lenora hesitantly, not sure how much she knows, and what he could say, or should say while she’s also able to hear him, but he doesn’t know how to politely ask her to leave as he tells Erriox that they were able to salvage some of the most valuable organs of a Space Marine from his dead brother. Mortals tended to get horrified by some of the less glorious, and more gory details of being what the Astartes are. 

“You mean his organs?” Erriox asked, so much for keeping gory details unsaid. Catius watched Lenora’s reaction, she was still listening, but with none of the squeamishness he had been expecting. 

He relaxed as she didn’t grow disgusted at Erriox’s words, he’s still speaking one of the common tongues on Ancient Terra- so she can understand what they are saying, as he hadn’t wanted to speak in a language she didn’t know in front of her, as that could be a terribly rude faux-pas.

“Yes sir,” Catius says with a nod, “Hearts, lungs, progeniod, Haemastamen, Occulobe, Neurglottis, Ossmodula, Larrman Organ, Omophagea, Melanochrome, Mucranoid, Magnificat, sinew coils, immortis glands, unfortunately his Belisarian Furnace was unsalvageable.”

He pauses as he runs through the list, “unfortunately we didn’t have enough organ carriers for the common organs to be harvested, even though they were harvestable.”

Erriox places his hand on the Scoutling’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze, “You’ve done what you could and recovered what can be recovered. I will resupply those containers for you boys from the base and make sure you have enough. Your brother was lucky enough to at least be sent off by a familiar face.”

I could’ve done more. If I was faster, maybe Atlas… Atlas could’ve… Catius blinks, trying to get rid of the feeling of grains of sand irritating his eyes. He can’t think of that right now, not in front of Lenora and Erriox. “Thank you,” his voice cracks a little, he unintentionally leans a little into Erriox’s touch.

It takes a few minutes for the burning sensation in his throat to abate enough, and the stinging sand feeling in his eyes he coughed once or twice to clear his throat as he blinked rapidly. “I can get the Armour brought over to your nest in a couple of days. Th-thank you for your help. Uhm.. is there something I can procure for trade? For the … containers and the armor.”

He knows that both things likely are more expensive due to a lack of resources on Ancient Terra. It will be good to have Cedric at least partially armored.

Erriox shook his head, “Not for now. It would be good to get Cedric set up with his own armor considering he’s the only one of you who is without one. And with the way you found your battle-brother, you should be prepared in case this happens again, as grim as it sounds.” 

The older mer thought for a moment, before asking, “Do you have a place to store your brother’s organs?”

“Not for long term, sir,” Catius says after a moment of thought as he runs the requirements for long term organ storage in his head.

“My shoal’s base has a place to store geneseed and organs. The apothecaries there would be able to take them off your hands. We are not purely all Iron Warriors and have a number of members from various legions and chapters. Your brother’s remains will be treated with respect, if that eases your mind any.” Erriox suggested, seeing the discomfort written all over the young mer’s face. 

Catius shoulders sag with relief and nods. “I will speak with Cedric and the others so we can coordinate a time to drop off the organs and armor safely. Thank you sir.”

He feels what seems to be a weighted cloak drape over his shoulders. Looking to his side, Catius sees Lenora’s understanding smile, realizing it was her wing that was covering him. 

She could hear the reluctance left in his reply, “When you’re ready, Catius. It’s not easy to let go of a loved one.” Giving his shoulder a squeeze, “If you wish, you can keep your brother’s remains temporarily in the cold storage with the medicinal ingredients and healing potions. Though it is not as secure as what I imagine the storage vaults at the base would be.” 

“Thank you,” he says softly. The pressure feels nice, soothing. “I… I think I want to do that for a while.”

Catius duck's his head a little, such things aren't how it is usually done. Also grief, while something all Astartes go through with. He knows the scolding that he'd usually get for trying to hold onto such valuable pieces of his brothers. But that is in the distant future, while this Ancient Terra is his now, where he can afford to be just a little selfish.

Lenora looks at her mate in question, “Erriox, If his broken armor is all that’s left of his brother, perhaps a small piece can be taken and kept like a charm or a momento? It is a tradition for us harpies to keep a talon or feathers from loved ones who have passed. Could Catius do the same?”

“I’ll see what can be done once I see the armor.” Erriox replies. 

The harpy turns back to the Primaris mer, “What do you think, Catius?”

Catius hadn’t thought of that, however he likes the idea a lot, “that would… I would really like to have a little piece of his armor if its… it's something that can be done.”

The Iron Warrior answered, “We will try. For now, I suspect Cedric has your brother’s organs stored somewhere, you can tell him to bring them home to store them. He will know where to put them.”

Lenora added, “And if you’d like, you can stay with us at our home nest. Your brothers would be happy to have you with them. Jophi’s been rather worried about you.”

“I will tell Cedric about moving the organs,” Catius says. Before giving them a shy smile about the offer of the nest, “i… I think I'd like to move in with you.”

Erriox snorted with amusement, “Jophiel has already made a spot ready for you for quite some time. I’m sure you have an idea of his plan to have all of you adopted by us.”

Catius couldn't have stopped himself from laughing if he tried. He shakes his head and recovers, rubbing his face free of tears, happy ones this time. 

“That doesn't surprise me that he planned that,” Catius says after a couple of attempts, “he means well… And wants the people he loves together.”

“Well, I am happy that you’ll be joining us as well.” Lenora let out a pleased trill, wrapping her wings around her newest son as she nuzzles him. 

“Thank you for having me,” Catius says nodding his head to Lenora and Erriox gratefully.

Erriox gives his mate a small smile. Lenora’s softness is one of those things he had unexpectedly grown fond of during their time together. He can also see it is what draws the Primaris Scoutlings to her so easily and has grown their  “little” family so quickly. It’s an unexpected change to suddenly become a de facto Scout Sergeant (or “father” as she teases him) of this mix of Primaris Scoutlings, but so long as it was with Lenora, Erriox finds he doesn’t mind it at all. 

‘They were right,’ Catius thought a touch ruefully as he shyly smiled at Erriox and Lenora. 

Lenora and Erriox are wonderful, kind people, kinder than many he’d met or heard of, before coming to Ancient Terra. He didn’t know of many… Or any, really First Born Cousins who would essentially become a Scout Sargent to a mixed group of non-chapter younger brothers. Especially Primaris Scouts,  even the ones that tended to tolerate them seemed to be distrusting of them, disliked them.

[anitabighug]

❥ A Perfect Experiment : Wally x Reader (She/Her Pronouns, Named) ✿

Chapter Masterpost: [  ♡   ♡    ♡ ] Chapter Six; Gifted

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● Though a few of the neighbours had offered to clean up in the morning, by the time anyone got to the clearing, it was long gone. Even Frank’s expertly crafted bonfire pit looked like nothing had ever happened, the grass flat and pristine as ever. Most of your neighbourhood shrugs it off, but you do take a note of Detective Julie on the case, dragging Frank around the clearing with an adorable outfit and a magnifying glass that is just far too big. She keeps calling him ‘Watson’ and you vaguely wonder how she knew a reference like that. You file the situation strictly in ‘not my circus, not my monkeys,’ and resolve to let yourself just be thankful you didn’t have to move your own record player again. Everything was returned in perfect condition, after all, even set up exactly as you liked it. Though, you will admit it was a tad worrying that someone had come into your home while you were sleeping. Though if it really was one of the neighbours, just too nervous to admit to such a sweet deed, you sincerely weren’t worried in the slightest. You were thankful for the spare time, vaguely remembering something important you needed to look into. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● Alright, so here’s the plan. We’re gonna make up yesterday’s lazy day, which had turned into such a wash. Barnaby decided before even heading to sleep last night; he had SO much relaxing to catch up on, and nothing was going to stop him. He was going to wake up nice and late (He did not– the hustle and bustle of the clearing stirring him before he was ready), He was going to head to the bugdega for not one! But two! Of the most perfectest hot dogs ever! (How was Howdy out of ketchup? Of all the condiments to miss on the perfectest hot dogs– Why ketchup???) and he was going to return next door to his own home, where his newest friend had promised a dip in what was now going to be the warmest, nicest water ever– Why was he out? Now– Barnaby was NOT the grumpy type, but even he had his limits. Despite the warnings, here he was in the felt; Wally Darling, set up off the beaten path with a huge easel and canvas, staring intently at the landscape before them. Barnaby watched for a minute, and Wally just never moved. His exhausted eyes blinked one, then the other, and the only further movement was him squinting even harder. He couldn’t just sit and watch this. But… He peered past his darlingest friend; The paddling pool sat there, beckoning him… He let out a pitiful whine before succumbing to the responsibilities that came with being a good friend. “What’cha painting there, Buddy?” “Huh? Oh! Barnaby!” Wally, startled, turned up towards the dog towering over him, “I… Was just… Ah, I was painting Home, of course!” He finally dug the brush into his paint, swirling it around and lifting his hand towards the canvas, trying desperately to work around his trembling arm. “Home, Huh?” “Yes! Home,” Wally nodded firmly, and stubbornly pressed the brush into the fabric, sketching in the familiar box that he called his home, “You see, I saw the morning sun hitting it, and,” He mimicked a chefs kiss motion, completely forgetting the ‘kiss’ part before returning to his work, “I need to focus! Can’t dillydally, now!” “Mm,” Barnaby smirked, and flopped down a little, resting his big doggy head on Wally’s unsuspecting shoulder, “Weird– I didn’t know Home was blue. We have that in common!” The snicker from his shoulder shook Wally to his core. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, and his darkened gaze shifted to the peripheral, examining the blue mass on his shoulder carefully. “You gotta rest, buddy.” Barnaby was firm on this, gingerly taking the brush from his hand. Wally grasped for it again, but was held back by Barnaby’s massive paw on his face. It muffled the ‘I do not!’s as Wally squirmed desperately, tantrum noises rumbling the blue felt in his face. Barnaby waited a few moments for him to tire himself out, before scooping him under his arm, the man hanging there limply, but continuing his grumpy mumbling. What a drama queen. “Yeah, yeah. I getcha. Sometimes things don’t go as planned, Buddy. But you just gotta–” He sent a tired look into one of Home’s windows as they approached, and the door swung open easily for him. Barnaby lifted Wally with one hand, and readied himself, before bowling the puppet through the door, “Roll with it,” Home’s door snaps shut before Wally realises where he is, and Barnaby gives the structure an appreciative pat on it’s trim, “Thanks, Bud. Take care of him, I’ll be back,” ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● You take another bite of your peanut butter toast, and flip the page in your notebook. It was as you thought; Last night should have been a bright, beautiful full moon. The weather said nothing about clouds, either, not a dang one! So what was that strange phenomenon? Perhaps it had dipped so low that the trees had hidden it from that angle, but… Surely you still would have seen the light? You take another bite, puzzling your question over with it, and staring lasers into the far wall. You resolve to answer this question later, closing the book and leaving it on your kitchen island, turning away to wash the crumbs off of your plate.

You fully expected a knock on your door sometime today, what with Sherlock out in full force, but you definitely weren’t expecting Barnaby. Especially not this early! You treat him to a big smile, though, and open the door wide, “Barnaby!! I don’t have snacks ready yet, but you can come in if you like, I’ve got the a/c running full blast and–” He holds up a paw to stop you, and takes in a deep breath. “It is time.” You stop in your tracks. “I have to admit…” You’re holding your breath. “... and this is hard for me, y’know,” Your brain is practically vibrating out of your skull. The excitement on your face is impossible to ignore, and leads to a steady laugh from Barnaby, “I, Barnaby B. Beagle… Might, just possibly!!!” He continues to draw it out, wondering how long you’ll go without blinking. “Might!!! Not know everything. I have a question.” All the tension leaves your body. You might just be able to die happy. After all this time, after all these adventures, Barnaby B. Beagle had a science question for YOU! You squeal with delight, and grab at his ginormous paws, pulling him inside and making a beeline for your lab, not even bothering to shut the front door. You scramble to shove your arms through your coat, and hurry to the table, pushing a few forgotten experiments out of the way haphazardly as you peer up at the dog, bouncing on the balls of your feet with excitement. “Honestly… Its more of a request. Y’see, I need some medicine.” You look crushed. He takes one look at you, and lets out a set of wheezy belly laughs, wiping a tear from his eye. “Oh, Barnaby. Shouldn’t you maybe go to Howdy’s for that? There are lots of kinds, and you really should leave mixing those things to the professionals–” You’re cut off as he finally manages to finish his riot, sniffling the last bits from his nose, “Not that kinda medicine, no ones sick!” He explained, resulting in a soft ‘phew!’ from you, “Y’see, I need something to make someone sleep. He’s havin a lot of troubles lately, ‘n he needs somethin’ nice to just put him to bed for a lil’ bit. Y’know?”

Hmm. You did know. Though the ‘perfect cure’ had certainly worked, and continued to work when you were desperate, you too were plagued by fitful sleeps. You explain your hypothesis, but Barnaby shoots it down pretty quickly, explaining that the friend didn’t really like to have company in his home after dark. Huh. You wrack your brain, tapping a finger against your lips to try to help you concentrate. There were things you knew of, teas and smells and flowers and honeys… “Though,” Barnaby muses, tilting his head, “... He might not mind as much if it’s you.” ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● This was how, despite your protests, and after an hour or so of mixing and chopping things to bring with you, you’ve ended up on the doorstep of Home. You peer behind you; giving a bitter stare to the dog that had made himself comfortable in your paddling pool, balancing a beach ball effortlessly on his nose and jamming out to your radio. Unfair; completely unfair. Though… You turn back to Home. You hadn’t spent much time with it since you arrived, and nervously, you give it a good morning. It creaks in response, and you can see the windows bend in to a cheery smile. Truthfully, despite your reservations, once you’d known one of your friends was in need you probably would have dropped all your plans anyways. Wally, however, wasn’t the type to need things. “May I?” You ask, raising a closed fist to the door. Home creaks agreeably, and you give a gentle but firm knock on the door. You wait a minute or so with no reply. You can hear noises from Home, though you don’t believe its directed at you. “... Home, I know I should wait, but I have some things I need to drop off for Mr. Darling. May I come in a moment?” You lift the basket that is hanging off your other arm to show to it’s waiting window. Another few internal noises sound before you get an affirming clap from the shutters. The door squeaks open, and you take the invitation heartily, stepping over the threshold. Home is decorated exactly as you’d expected. The living room is spacious, with an armchair big enough to get lost in, facing an intricate fireplace that looks well maintained. In fact, everything looks well maintained. Despite the dense collage of paintings decorating the walls, not a speck of dust is visible. From the entryway, you can see into his kitchen. You’d swear it had never been used before if you didn’t see the bowl of apples, piled higher than necessary, sitting on the counter. Despite the light pouring into the front rooms, the stairway just in front of you is shrouded in darkness. A shiver of fear runs down your spine, but you can’t put your finger on why. Wally wasn’t dangerous, he was Wally. He was sweet and charming and agreeable and polite. You push through your reservations, and call out through the dim halls, “Mr. Darling?” You pause, waiting for a response that doesn’t come. Your heart stings a little at this, hoping that at least the two of you were friends enough that he wouldn’t ice you out like this. “... Wally?” You ask again, a little more firmly. It takes another moment, but you hear a weak noise from somewhere beyond the staircase. There he was. You take the first step, and reach for the lightswitch, waiting a beat for the affirmative squeak from Home before you flick it, and complete your ascension. You find Wally in the room at the end of the hall. He is in his bed, blankets wrapped tight around his body but especially his face, leaving only his unblinking eyes visible. This look gives you pause. Barnaby said that he was exhausted, but the Wally in front of you looked so wired that he might just never sleep again. For some reason, you thought he looked an awfully lot like… A stray cat, ready to swipe when given the first affections from a good samaritan. Your lip wobbles a little with this adorable thought, and the worries you have for the situation fade away. You know exactly how to handle this kind of situation, easy peasy. You don’t acknowledge him, strolling over to his bedside table and setting a cloth wrapped parcel on top. “What’s that?” He asks in a hushed tone, obviously apprehensive about the whole situation. You unwrap the top, and the sides fall to reveal a plastic tupperware of sliced apples. His breath hitches, and you crack open the top, before turning on your heel, “I’ll be right back.” You promise, and stroll back downstairs. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● By the time you return, the container has been practically licked clean. The top had been set back where it belongs, and a bit of the tension in Wally’s form had fallen. You take this as a sign to continue the calming assault, stepping back into his bedroom with a tray. Two mugs are balanced on it precariously, and you announce your presence softly, “Alright, Mr. Darling. I’ve got some–” “Wally.” He says sternly, and it stops you in your tracks. “What?” “You called me Wally. Earlier.”... He wasn’t wrong about that. A pang of guilt hits you in the chest. Did… He feel left out? It was true that he was the only one that she wasn’t on a first name basis with, but… Well, he’d never seemed to mind. You wonder for a moment if there were other ways you’d treated him differently, or unfairly. The thought of that nearly breaks your heart. “... Is that tea?” He asks finally, breaking you from your haze. You nod. “... Can you turn off the light?” This was a request you completely understood. A smile returns to your face, and you oblige, turning back and stepping into the hallway to turn off the light. You make your way carefully back to him, and sit yourself on the floor next to his bed. You take one of the mugs, and hand it to him, mentioning to be careful of the heat. You hear him untangle his hands, and though your eyes hadn’t quite adjusted, you feel him pick up the mug out of your hands. You pick up the other one, and take a sip. “It’s chamomile, and honey.” You explain quietly, gazing down at the mug as the shapes in the dark start to form again. “It helps with circulation. It’ll make you sleep better. I think it tastes pretty nice, too,” You give the liquid a quick swirl before taking another sip. You feel the warm edge of a mug bonk you on the cheek, and you turn back to the other puppet in the room, “Wally, you really should at least try it–” “Drank it all,” He promised, and when you lift the cup, you’re surprised to find that its completely true. You must’ve been so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear him sipping. Strange. You decide not to press it, though. You tend to act a little weird around Wally as is, it wouldn’t be out of the question that you’d missed some things. Or a lot of things. You pull the basket back to your side, digging around in it for the last gift. As you lift it up and turn back to Wally, your vision has adjusted enough to finally see him. His grip on the blanket has relaxed, and it's now just draped over his shoulders. His eyes have returned to their half-lidded gaze, and hes watching every movement you make in the darkness. His pompadour has deflated, and blue locks curl across his face haphazardly. You set a tiny cloth bag, tied delicately with a pair of swirly ribbons and a tiny star-shaped charm, down next to his face. He stares at it, and picks it up, turning it over with a confused look. “It’s lavender, amongst other things,” You explain, “I mixed it up myself. The smell is known to be relaxing. I thought if I packed it up, you could keep it nearby to help? You know, with the sleeping?” He takes the package and lifts it to his face, giving it a short sniff. You briefly wonder what orifice he smells through, but again abandon this line of questioning. All your new friends have quirks, Wally could have this one too. “... Smells like you,” A squeak escapes you. He’s staring again. It was true that on occasion you’d mixed up a batch for your own spastic sleep schedule, but you didn’t think it was that strong. You lift your wrist to your nose and give it a curious sniff. Wally finally lets out a dry laugh in return. “... How do you feel? Sleepy?” You ask quietly, and tilt your head. Wally doesn’t move for a moment… Then he turns his face away from you guiltily, mumbling something under his breath. Oh, dear. You’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but you came prepared. You gently push the tray of mugs off to the side where they won’t be stepped on, and stand up. You can do this, you’re so brave, and you’re going to be so unbelievably normal about this. Wally is your very dear friend, and you’d done this with practically every other friend you had at this point. You could give him the courtesy, too, even if it made your brain swim and your stomach flop. Start small. You climb onto the bed, Wally sitting up with a start. He narrows his eyes at you defensively. You reach a hand towards him slowly, giving him a chance to pull away if he needs to, and brush the strands of hair out of his face. Your hand presses against his bare forehead. He hesitates a moment, before you feel him pressing back against it. You trace your thumb across his brow, and move your hand down slowly to cup his cheek. The tension in his shoulders all but disappears, and you can see his kitten grin broaden as he melts into your touch. You didn’t know how long you’d been holding your breath, but you finally release it in a soft sigh. You release him, and scooch yourself over to the head of the bed, making yourself comfortable before patting your lap. He blinks at you curiously. “I can’t take credit for this one,” You admit with a smile, “Poppy showed it to me. It’s scientifically proven to help you sleep, though. Promise.” You take his hand, and guide his head onto your lap. Hes stiff, gripping your previous gift in his hand so tight that you briefly worry that it might break. Luckily the tie holds, and slowly he relaxes. You tell him to close his eyes. He obliges. “... Can you sing me a lullaby?” He asks under his breath. Your cheeks flush, but you can’t possibly say no to such an adorable request. You bury your fingers in his hair, rubbing the top of his head with your thumb, and relaxing back onto the headboard before you start to sing to him, “If the stars were mine, I’d give them all to you,” Your voice is low and hoarse, still a little nervous that he was only joking, and that he’d pull away from you and laugh. That wasn’t the Wally Darling you knew, though, and you took his contented sigh as reason to continue, “I’d pluck them down right from the sky and leave it only blue… I would never let the sun forget to shine upon your face, so when others would have rain clouds, you'd have only sunny days.” You can feel his smile at this against your lap. Somehow you knew he’d like this one. “If the stars were mine, I'd tell you what I'd do… I'd put the stars right in a jar and give them all to you…” His breathing is slow. Nearly there. You continue the hypnotising movement in your thumb, trying to keep your mind from dwelling on just how soft his hair is. “If the world was mine, I’d paint it gold and green~” Wally’s soft voice cuts through the darkness, and nearly scares you out of your felt. You hadn’t expected a reply, and you press your free hand against your chest to try and slow the rapid beating of your heart. “I’d make the oceans orange… For a brilliant colour scheme. I would colour all the mountains, make the sky forever blue, so the world would be a painting, and I’d live inside with you…” His arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled himself closer, making himself comfy closer to your tummy than your lap. You lift your chin to stare at the ceiling, trying to keep any bit of composure you have, for sleep’s sake. His voice was wavering, you could hear his exhaustion creeping through. “If the world was mine, I tell you what I’d do… I’d wrap the world in ribbons, and then give it all… to you…” He breathed the last line in a satisfied sign, nuzzling his head directly against you. His breathing slowed. His body fully relaxed. Finally, Wally Darling rested. (A/N: Another long one! I think we all deserve a nice rest tonight.) @elegantkidfansoul

[onecantsimply]

It's me again🌚 can you do a Buddha,Jack,Beelzebub with a reader that has the ability to split their soul and physical body?It makes them harder to kill(they have to be fused together to kill permanently), with the downside that their physical body is weaker and is more prone to die first (if one part dies the other regenerates the other).The reader has been disguised as twins,only merging when alone, with one day they're find out?

It’s been a while since I replied to a request of yours- Since I wrote for Dorohedoro-

-

𝔹𝕦𝕕𝕕𝕙𝕒:

He just wanted to check in on you, since you seemed slightly light headed. So after a small bit of wondering, Buddha decided to check in on you by dropping into your house with some snacks. But when he did, he saw a duplicate of you merging into your body.

It seemed a bit awkard, but Buddha just kept dropping in like nothing happened, giving you your treats and the things you needed.

But eventually, he decided to question what happened. Apparently, it was your ability. You could split your soul into a physical clone.

Hey, that could be pretty useful- And it is, in your case- Some people tend to both get confused by your clones, even if they’re slightly weaker the more clones you go by with.

Still, you make it work-

Buddha generally has no problem with it, but he does prefer to have only one of you so he has a proper target for affection-

But in the case of battles, he’ll gladly fight with you to make sure you don’t need to waste energy. If his lover’s facing some not worth it, why should they waste their time-?

Still, since you tend to be twins, it does get difficult- Even for him, he has trouble deciphering who is who, so he always just gives one of you a lollipop so he can figure out which is which-

Well, whatever- More kisses for the both of you-

𝕁𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℝ𝕚𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕣

Honestly, he figured it out before you told him. His eye told him all there was needed, since you two had the same color, and your auras were linked when you had stood together.

Still, he does find it useful when you split into different souls or bodies just to get something done. He doesn’t want you draining yourself too much though, so he’ll remind you not to use too much power.

While Jack does enjoy knowing how you two are, he does prefer only one of you. It gives him much more opportunities for small kisses, as well as small hugs without having to see your other body simply standing there-

Still, your abilities help a lot in certain situations, whether that be the kitchen, multiple step things, or multi tasking.

But especially in battle, where you have improvised to your very best, figuring out every weakness and strength you have. You use it to the best of your ability, both confusing and maybe slowing down your opponent.

𝔹𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕫𝕖𝕓𝕦𝕓:

He’s not too stunned by it or anything. But instead thinks of it as interesting. You’re limited by the amount of clones and power they have, but can still use them to certain advantage.

Beelzebub might end up asking you questions of your ability. He might want to find out all he can with it.

You may even help him around with it as well. Just be careful with your clones- Even if you’ll make work faster, there is a chance of you getting hurt- Beelzebub doesn’t want that-

So he may keep certain watch while doing his own thing, ensuring that you don’t screw anything up and hurt yourself-

But to have you help him around with comforting is pretty nice. Even if he seems cautious of it, he’ll slowly tend to tense down when he realizes that he hadn’t punched a hole through your heart-

[literaticat]

Publishing is notoriously competitive and difficult--I've been hearing other authors and publishing people saying it's now harder than it's ever been to get published.

I'm not daunted! This path is hard periodt. But I'm more like wondering to myself "Is it really harder than ever to get published?"

I would love your thoughts.

That doesn't really resonate with me.

It's always been extremely difficult. It's weird to me that anyone would think otherwise. We know that being a successful actor or musician or athlete is difficult -- so, too, is being a professional writer. It just *feels* different, maybe, because people think "anyone can write." Sure, just like just nearly anyone CAN bounce a basketball -- that doesn't mean most people are good enough at it to be a Laker!

In the past (like, 20 years ago and earlier), there were IMO many more hurdles in publishing. Like you think "Publishing So White" *now*??? What about in the 20th century, or before then?

Back then, before the dawn of the computer age, the pool of people trying to be writers was probably a lot smaller. BUT, most people who were successful probably went to certain schools and knew certain people and had a certain kind of background and a certain amount of privilege. But without those things? Ehhhhh. The barrier to entry was pretty high.

Just... logistically, in terms of *steps* to it all. ALL THAT TYPING. The research? If you weren't connected AT ALL, you hadn't been to a "good school" or anything, you didn't have a professor or somebody to emulate -- how would you even know where to begin? You could DO it, it just would take a lot of time to figure it all out and it wouldn't be "easy" by any means. The postage alone would have been a problem!

Now there is much more broad, readily available and FREE access to all kinds of information about writing and publishing -- querying and submissions are free, and pretty simple -- you don't have to lug around a heavy-ass typewriter -- you don't have to go to a certain school or know certain people (I mean, you still CAN do those things, but you don't HAVE to). There are more options than ever in terms of what publishing looks like, and the barriers for entry for people who want to attempt it have been lowered to the point of barely being a speed bump.

This does of course mean that there are more people than ever TRYING to get published, so maybe it is "more competitive", but IMO, it's definitely not more difficult in a literal sense.

Annnnd.... I also don't really believe in the "competitive" part, so much. Like, yes, a LOT of people want to get published, few ever will be. BUT, I don't think of those other people as your competition. That implies that you are up against a bunch of other people in a race or something and only one can "win" and everyone else "loses."

I'm thinking it's more like, authors are poppy farmers, and manuscripts are a vast field of pink poppies. They are all shades of pink, mostly pretty light, but some are hot pink, some are orange-red, and some are RED-red. The reddest ones get picked. Sometimes ones that are very hot pink or orange-red get picked, too. There's no limit to the number of red ones that CAN get picked, it's just that there are only a few RED red ones. The more poppies there are, the more red ones there are, and the choosier the picker can be about getting the reddest of the red.

Lots of people are not great at poppy farming. They get a case of poppy-mildew, or their poppies come up scraggly and weird, and they give up. The successful poppy farmers are the ones who research poppy variants and poppy care, who take the time to water and weed and all that stuff, who learn about how to get the reddest poppies and implement that knowledge. They aren't really "competing" with other poppy farmers per se -- rather, they are striving to to be the best possible poppy farmers they can be. And most of all -- THEY KEEP FARMING.

[beautifulphilosopherbird]

Dungeon Meshi rewatch ep 10 notes

so I always play the intro and outro because I love them so much and another thing caught my eye that might be nothing but is there a reason the women and men are reaching up, with Falin and Laios the ones in the center, and then them grasping hands? it feels meaningful anyway

ah it's the frog costumes ep hahahaha

they've reached the stairs they have to take to reach the 5th basement floor, near the orc's settlement (where the orc leader told them the red dragon was seen, hanging out and causing problems)

but the staircase is filled with tentacles so they can't just stroll down lol

Chilchuck is upset bc the tentacles mess with traps making it even harder to disarm them

KENSUKE SHOOK ALERTING THEM AGAIN but Laios didn't react fast enough and poor Kensuke got SNATCHED by froggy bad froggy let Kensuke go!

LOTS of notes for ep 10 so imma cut it off here

aw bye bye Kensuke (and Marcille's staff is called Ambrosia bye bye Ambrosia)

lol Senshi calling Chilchuck a kid again

he saves the day by using frog skin to wrap his hands so that tentacles don't hurt him smart kid hehe (sorry Chilchuck)

Marcille's weakness as a fashion girlie exposed lol

THEY'VE REACHED THE 5TH FLOOR castle town

lol the frog skin is stuck to them hahaha

(Chilchuck and Senshi's faces tho akjfiashioaghoa they look like Russian dolls help)

Namari gets motion sickness from the return spell portal thingie (bitch, same, that would totally be me, I get motion sickness from walking a little faster lol)

ahhh right right grumpy mcpants works for the "lord of the island" (ig the dungeon is on "his land"?)

hmmmmmmmmmm dwarf mines you say 👀 is that how Senshi got into the dungeon before it officially got discovered?

anyways, he's suggesting to the haughty looking dude to deploy troops in order to take care of the orc "problem"

hm lord haughtypants calls dwarfs "abominable" and says they're like moles

OH LORE ok let's see

so the dwarfs and elves were at war (no reason stated) and

not sure what that means exactly but I'm guessing the elves went to the west and the dwarfs to the east?

the dwarfs hid in the lands (where haughtypants is a lord now ig) and waited for the elves, and even after the war they continued to dig tunnels WHICH ALLEGEDLY SWALLOWED THE GOLDEN CITY AND TURNED IT INTO A DUNGEON wait wasn't that the dark evil crazy magician's work (allegedly)? hmmmmm interesting

he also says that the surviving dwarfs are responsible for the dungeon's continued expansion

grumpy mcpants says (his name is Mr Tansu just in case you think I am using the dumb nickname bc I don't remember) that rumor can't be trusted

ok so he copied a magical circle, I'm guessing before they met Senshi & friends bc afterwards they just bailed right? and it's in elvish, the same individual as before

AHA so his theory is that the crazy evil magician is an elf and these magical circles are his work, interesting (he says the work is beyond the abilities of dwarfs and tall-men)

OH EVEN MORE STUFF wow how did I manage to miss all this I'm such a clown

anyway, the western elves are sending letters now being like "the dungeon is ours we want it back" (well, our "heritage" is what they said, which is interesting bc weren't the king and Delgal tall-men?)

oh EVEN MORE INFO so they won the war with the dwarfs? bc they took the land from them and gave it to humans bc they apparently "didn't know what to do with it" (their king granted it himself even)

this evil magician, if it is an elf the only one I can think of is the crazy eyes elf from the living paintings, so I wonder if it has something to do with him

lordy mcislandpants doesn't want to give them back the island bc he wants the treasure that must still be in the depths of the dungeon lol

MAN we're getting so much lore and theories and everything now, the hamster in my brain is being pushed to his limits

grumpy mcpants says that the elves aren't after the treasure but the immortality spelll that's been cast on the dungeon (that does seem more valuable lol)

he tells mr lord to get his hands on the blueprint of the spell before they do and then he'll finally be treated as an equal, or even their superior

he says the lord of the dungeon possesses it (is that the evil magician or does he mean whoever "beats" the dungeon?), and tells him to keep supporting adventurers and not to cut down prices for hunting monsters etc

oh he'll issue a reward for taking down the orcs (that does not sound good)

ah yeahh I remember, Namari goes to the resurrection office and she asks about Falin (no luck of course)

on the 5th floor, outside the golden castle is the castle town (now abandoned and in ruins)

right, so Laios did mention that the red dragon is supposed to hunt once a month and then sleep until the next hunt but this red dragon has been active nonstop, even going as far as getting the orcs to flee their settlement which Marcille finds odd (but it's also no good for Falin bc she's getting digested faster)

aw cute detail look at Shuro all blushy as he's looking at Falin here hahaha

fun fact: the weak spot of a dragon is the underside of his neck

there she goes again saying her protective magic isn't as powerful as Falin's. She was the best in school, right? It's making it seem like something either happened to her or the school didn't have any good students in it hahaha I mean, I don't really have anyone else to compare her to (besides Falin who is apparently better than her in everything magic related) so I can't tell if it's just normal for her not to be able to do this stuff or what.

ALSO not me just realising Falin is a tall-(wo)man and aren't tall-men supposed to be weaker in magic than elves by default? hm

listening to their plan of trapping the dragon now after I know what happens makes me think that they should have known this wouldn't work out. they're all humanfailures

hmmmm I don't think anyone has mentioned this before but where are dragons normally bc apparently not on the 5th floor lol my guess is lower? hm does that mean something chased it up, like the orcs were chased up by the dragon WAIT IS WHAT SENSHI WAS TALKING ABOUT ACTUALLY HAPPENING????? Did something fuck up the ecosystem? 👀

Senshi guarding his special knife hehehe

and oop the red dragon is here

random screengrabs:

them in Mr Tansu's imagination tho LOL

Idk about you but I ship Senshi x bread 100%

same Chilchuck, same

paused and laughed

his timing is impeccable truly I love him

[fallenclan]

sky

TW: depicted gore, blood, violence

The grass glistened with morning dew as the sun rose over FallenClan territory, a peaceful sight to behold. Sunlight shimmered in the dewdrops like it was a mirror, the grass bending over with the weight. The trees stood still, only their leaves trembling ever so slightly in the gentle breeze. 

The serenity was shattered by a white and grey blur of a cat shooting through the grass, cyan eyes wide with adrenaline. The cat let out a howl, a mix of fear and excitement. Because behind the cat was a huge dog, its short black and tan fur a startling contrast against the peaceful green of the morning. Drool dripped from the beast’s jaws as it barked loudly, the sound rippling through the mountainous terrain.

Sky leaped longer as he ran, his heart thumping in his chest as his ears roared with blood. The initial adrenaline induced excitement had worn away to deep, primal fear. He raced faster, harder, pushing his muscles to the limit as he yowled for help.

The cat darted through the grass, swerving wildly and turning quickly in a feeble attempt to escape. But Sky was soon saved, as a brown tabby cat leaped into his sight. He internally let out a sigh of relief as he scurried to hide behind the cat whilst he caught his breath.

Sky turned and let out a thankful purr when he noticed a black and white cat barrelling into the dog, and a tortoiseshell cat attacking its other side. Once he’d caught his breath, Sky lunged forward and raked his claws down the dog’s snout, satisfaction flooding him when the beast howled and yelped and fled, its blood staining his claws.

“Thank you,” he panted to the four cats, a grey and white cat helping him to his paws. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem,” the tortoiseshell cat chirped, examining him for wounds. “I don’t think we did much though, you really scared it off, we were just there for intimidation.”

“Nonsense!” Sky purred, relaxing enough to sit down. “Without you guys I’d be crowfood!” 

“Perhaps we should have our medicine cat check you over for injuries,” the grey and white cat murmured. “Just in case.”

Sky wondered what a ‘medicine cat’ was, but decided it sounded alright so he nodded. Together, the five headed back to what the strange cats claimed to be their Clan’s camp. Sky had heard of the cats of Clans, but he’d never met any of them.

When he did arrive in their camp, Sky was entranced by the strange cats all around him.

There was one young she-cat with silver and white fur and a bushy red tail. She was listening to a small black and white kit chatter about… slugs? Sky looked around further, taking in all the cats. Some had flowers or herbs or even collars, and they were all different! 

He instantly loved this place.

“Goldenstar!” The tortoiseshell cat by his side called and a golden tabby cat turned around from talking to a black and red tom. Goldenstar - as Sky presumed - trotted over to them, greeting Sky with a simple bowed head.

“Who have you brought back?” The golden tabby asked, a teasing tint laced in his voice. The brown tabby cat beside Sky purred with laughter for a moment.

“We never did ask for your name!” The cat exclaimed, shaking her head. “I’m Hawkwish! This is Poppyfeather, Flyspots and Willowsplash.” Each of the cats Sky had met bowed their heads slightly in acknowledgement. 

“I’m Sky,” he told them confidently. “I love your camp.”

Goldenstar erupted with purring and Sky instantly knew that these cats took great pride in their… Clan. For a moment he lingered on a thought. Could he possibly be one of those cats?

“Would you like to join us?” Goldenstar asked, glancing around at the camp as other cats perked up. “Join FallenClan?”

Sky looked around, hesitation creeping up on him. He’d never really had a permanent home, not for many moons at least. His eyes lingered on the brown tabby and tortoiseshell on either side of him, who’d been overwhelmingly welcoming. Doubt faded away to excitement as he nodded. “I would be honoured.”

And so, that night after being named Skyfrost, the grey and white cat sat by the Clan’s entrance, keeping vigil. Something about the quiet night in FallenClan’s camp felt different compared to the nights he usually spent hiding somewhere. 

It felt like home.

A/N: HEY BEETLE! Is this the second fic I’ve submitted in one day? ………… yes. I hope you enjoyed!!! This new wheel of names is my saviour. Oh and I don’t think I ever mentioned this, because I’m Australian, some words may be spelt different as I use British-English not American-English or what ever we call it. Have a good day/night!!! :D

(beetle notes: THIS IS SO GOOD YESSSSS,,, i love seeing Skyfrost get the attention he deserves)

[lost-inthedream]

Dirty Old Money

A Mafia AU

Pairing: Accountant!Rowoon x Mafia boss reader (Female, practically an OC)

Genre: suggestive

Word count: 1,1k

Warning: bad language, mentions of selling drugs (no explicit consume).

Bunus song rec: Up Late, by Gemini

Summary: Rowoon is not afraid of dealing with dirty money but being with you makes his heart skip some beats.

Author note: this is all about sexual tension (which I actually love) but if you all need more than this, in part two, let me know.

Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

Seokwoo was habituated to submitting to their excentricities. Giving weird, extravagant commands was part of being on the highest level of the food chain. The crest had a new figure, which finally gave him a thrill. Seokwoo has been in that life for five years now, he had been obeying a graybeard since he started on it. In any case, the new boss was still trying to figure the business out and the accountant was absolutely necessary during such process. Their wealth was ridiculous and there were numerous people to pay, to charge for, to destroy, whatever. She must need a daily dose of painkillers or maybe anything harder, he wondered.

That enormous mansion looked even more oppressive when you get inside. It was Seokwoo first time there, he was left right in front of one of the largest stairs he had ever witnessed. That was not a mansion, that was an actual palace. The handrails made of plaster gave the place an air of Greek mythology that pleasured the man's eyes. He climbed slowly and with a cocky smile. Meanwhile, the cold breeze messed his hair just enough to make him look less uptight.

"Lady is at the indoor pool" a well-mannered housekeeper notified him as soon as he reached the landing.

"Thank you very much. Where may I wait for her?" The accountant calmly asked.

"She is waiting for you there, sir. I'm guiding you toward the pool" She made a head sign and walked.

Seokwoo followed her expectantly, his breathing got irregular and he was afraid of his own appearance. That woman always caused him weird feelings that he could not name. Yet, he could not help wanting more. "fuck, fuck" he repeated inside his mind in hopes the curses could make him feel less flustered.

The immense room where he was conducted to was limited by dark glass walls. He felt the air prevenient from the heated waters hit his face as his eyes looked for the boss. Seokwoo was curious and she was nowhere to be found. The housekeeper left without him noticing, more silent than anything.

There was the boss, nonetheless. You emerged from the underwaters to face him. "Right on time" you murmured to yourself at the sight of that well-dressed guy staring at you. Nothing could be better.

"Thanks for coming, Rowoon" you said after wiping the excess of water from your face with your bare hands.

"Always glad to help, Miss [X]."

"There's a table there, see? You may sit there and open the documents I need to study today".

He assented like a trained puppy and you smirked. The fact that the man was 190 cm tall and still was at your beck and call fascinated you. Maybe you made a point of taking the lead in your father's business only for the sake of meeting him.

You climbed to the deck while Seokwoo setled what he needed on the table. He propped his Macbook on top of the furniture, made of dark glass and sat on a leather-covered cushion. That was more comfortable than it looked. His nostrils jerked as he tried to maintain his breathing healthy.

If only he looked at you as you dried your body. You decide to get closer wearing your bathrobe open. You picked that one-piece swimsuit especially for him: classy and not too revealing, just enough to make him want more. There was a loop that led to your neck, which was quite sensual.

"I know this is not the best place to have a business meeting with you but I'm trying something new. Something about positive reinforcement, you know.

You wanted him, that was sure, but scaring him would not be the right path.

He stared at you while you dragged a chair for yourself and that was evident that he almost forgot to answer.

"No problems, Miss X, I can do whatever is fine for you"

"Whatever" you repeated thoughtfully.

Once more you were by his side, facing those boring Excel spreadsheets. That was a different one, of course. Last time, you promised Rowoon you would study the company obligations until your next meeting. You were not the type to break promises.

"These are the most recent purveyors. Your father- I mean, Mr. X was very interested in those new 'substances'."

The way he avoided speaking 'drugs' was so adorable. Among so many of his traits, the way he chose his words was maybe your favorite. The said substance's name was described right on the screen nonetheless.

"Did he make a good choice?" you were genuinely interested but paid attention to your own voice in order to sound teasing in some way.

"He did. You can see that in this other spreadsheet"

"Great" you smirk biting your fingertip. "Can I ask you something, Rowoon?"

"Anything, lady." he nodded right away. His eyes laid on yours but that was only for a second. You still had a finger between your lips and apparently, that pleasured him.

"Do you think I'll do well regarding the administration of the Company?"

"You are absolutely capable, lady."

His hand softly played with his tie as he tried to control his heartbeat. One more time. You tilted your head and bit your bottom lip.

"But..." you pondered. " I'm a woman. Isn't it an additional concern?"

He gulped.

"I understand, lady. It's usually harder for women and I'm truly sorry for that. Still, you're not a regular woman.

His answer could not be more satisfactory. You uncrossed your legs but was not a calculated gesture. You were feeling hotter, more than expected. That could not be the heater, that thing was coming from inside you.

"Shit" you whispered.

The way the accountant's eyes wisened condemned him.

"Is it too hot for you too?"

"I'm good" he affirmed as his motion said otherwise. His hand loosened his tie right after he voiced that scandalous lie.

"Whatever" you spit, then slid your arms off the robe "Why ain't I a regular woman?"

He took a deep breath and massaged the nape of his neck. He seemed to be struggling against a massive force. Desire hits like a storm.

"The way you make me feel is not normal" he confessed.

Your breath too became difficult. You strengthened your back as if it was not already rigid.

"Do you wanna go away from me?"

"Not at all". Seokwoo could barely close his mouth.

"Do you wanna come closer to me?"

At that question, he dragged his chair backward and stood up, you followed him without any thought. He was clearly split between running away and pulling you against his body. Therefore you reached for his hand and did not stop your robe from dropping on the deck. Now you were exposed and not afraid of loosening him. That was ride or die, you needed that man.

He carefully leaned toward you, closer to your ear and asked:

"Can we study those sheets another day?"