#this shit was made in a lab to make me insane I feel

[pondslime]

I’m listening to ethel cain for the first time rn and I See Now

the fates have already fucked me sideways........swinging by my neck from the family tree.......he’ll LAUGH and say u know I raised u better than this.....then leave me hanging so THEY ALL CAN LAUGH AT ME............

[anundyingfidelity]

OUT OF MIND — Soldier Boy/Ben

Summary: Ben believes he's alone in the lab, that you're just a product of his imagination and insanity. Is not like that, you're more real than he ever thought.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1.3k.

Warnings: sexual content, p in v, blowjobs, handjobs, heavy non-con (such as reader taking advantage of Ben), nudity, some angst, mentions of torture and being unconscious.

Note: *another one* this is part of @artyandink Jensen's drabble marathon (if it can't be due to the content of this is totally okay tho!) Anyway hope you like this dark piece of crap I had on my drafts because I could never write a long fanfic ever again, I'm taking so damn long to write.

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

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

The last doctor left, metal door closing behind his back, leaving you all alone with the man lying down in a too uncomfortable stretcher, hands and ankles tied.

The doctor's instructions were clear. He didn't care what you'd do to the experiment in the room. No one cared. As much as a scientist you were yourself, you stayed until late, admiring the former hero at your complete mercy, with nowhere to go or a voice to yell for help. Not that he might needed though.

The room was cold as you paced to remain by his side. His chest going up and down, eyes closed as he slept thanks to the dosis of gas you always administered before taking the tests of his blood and getting into the good part: the torture.

Tens of scientists and doctors stepped the lab to test his strength and powers, gifting him of endurance and new abilities along the way. You were one of them. And this was your price for making him indestructible instead of killing him, switching completely the main objective of the reds. You never really talked to Soldier Boy, more than just the silent moans and gasps leaving your mouth when you actually got into business. Ninety nine percent of the time he was unconscious under the effects of the gas, but he did caught you on top of him a couple of times, or just sucking him off until he was hard in your mouth. The only thing further than talking was his green eyes staring at you, just as he woke up from the slumber. But that made it a thousand times better.

With your fingertips, you traced his bare arm. The skin hot against your hand, finding the way up to his muscular chest, and then down his stomach, stopping right above his crotch. Your mind started wandering all over with the past memories of you and him inside that same lab room.

It was wrong, but you couldn't stop.

You've done this countless of times, what was with doing it again? Besides, he was a piece of shit of a man as far as you knew, using women as appliances and then tossing them like garbage once he was bored. You had to have fun too. Your hand went under his pants, softly playing with his shaft, as your free one went to brush away the mess his hair was doing on his forehead, so delicately.

His cock grew hard thanks to your touch, jerking him off smoothly. It only made you yearn for him more, the wetness between your legs increasing as you rubbed your thighs together to feel some friction that could relief you for a moment.

You pushed your skirt up and took off your panties, completely desperate to feel him inside you. But before you pulled his pants down enough to free his dick, ans you leaned down to take the tip of his cock between your lips, sucking him just right to earn a somewhat loud gasp from his throat. You took him deeper in your mouth, soaking his shaft with your saliva and stroking with your hand what couldn't fit.

Just as you tasted some pre cum, you pulled back and climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs and lining his cock with your cunt, rubbing yourself on his length. You moaned softly sinking down on him, your tight, wet walls engulfing his dick, until your ass met the hot skin of his thighs. His cock twitched inside you as you rolled your hips in slow, deep movements, that soon became desperate. Biting your lip, you unbuttoned your blouse and pushed your bra down. Quickly, you held on his chest with the palms of your hands, riding him.

Soldier Boy brows furrowed, his breathing became unsteady as much as yours. Sometimes he looked like he would wake up in any minute, but he wasn't really able to. The features on his beautiful face used to change as you had your way with him because it was natural, and you loved to be in control. The only thing you'd regret was his big hands not being put into good use because of the restraints around them. You were so close to your climax that you wished he could bury his nails on your ass and mark it red while you're bouncing on his cock. Maybe someday you'd do it the right way. But not right now. Control suited you and you liked being on top anyway, playing with your tits at your own pace as they bounced with every thrust.

His cock met the deepest parts inside your pussy and you played with your clit and your folds, reaching sweet release and coating his cock with your juices. You continued the steady rhythm of your hips, going for a second orgasm, his dick throbbing so hard you would just fuck him until he spilled inside.

You let out a raspy moan as he came, filling you up and triggering your climax again, thighs shaking. You recovered your breathe, feeling his cock softening inside your pussy. His brows went back to normal, but you felt his heart still racing. Shifting on top of his cock, you reach his bearded cheek, caressing his features.

"I wish I could see underneath all this," you mumbled. "But I'm afraid you'll wake up for real and kill me."

You smirked just a little at the thought. Probably he'd just agree to fuck you if he was awake and back to his old self again, not drugged, not put into sleep. He was the perfect toy nonetheless.

But then, his eyes fluttered open softly. He thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, watching your face as the bright, white lights iluminated the room. Soldier Boy often believed you were a ghost from his twisted mind, that there was something inside his mind tormenting him to the point he was being used for sexual pleasure by an unknown entity. But your touch, the heat of your body, and your weight over his own told him otherwise. You were fucking real, straddling his lap, with his dick buried balls deep in your tight cunt, tits out and messy hair and lab coat. Soldier Boy groaned, hands clenching into fists.

He spent so much time, decades, inside those concrete walls that there was this primal need inside that couldn't be met. And you were there to make it true from time to time, even if he wanted it or not.

"Good morning, sunshine," you mocked when he tried to free his wrists, but was too weak to do so. "The gas effect is fading away I see."

He grunted as you pulled off from him, climbing down to fix your clothes and putting your panties back. Soldier Boy tried to scream, but his throat was sore; he had to fight the restrains on his limbs, however it was useless. He was so powerless and fragile for a moment.

"Shhh, it's okay," you whispered, putting your hand on his forearm. He looked at you with a mixture of fear and rage. "You're gonna be okay. I always take care of you," you smiled as the stretcher began to shake while he tried to set himself free. "Now don't try it, you're a good boy. Aren't you?"

Soldier Boy groaned like a scolded puppy once you combed his hair with your fingers.

"You've been here for a long time, and no one has ever taken such good care of you as I do," you said, leaning down until your lips were close enough to his ear. "So you better obey me and keep being a good bitch for me."

Once you pulled back, he got the perfect close up of your face before you turned around and left the room, the sound of your heels echoing before the metal door finally closed. In less than five minutes, the chamber was filled with novichok.

Before sleeping again, Soldier Boy knew it was real.

The woman fucking him on his dreams and living nightmares was so damn real.

Soldier Boy taglist

@delaynew

@k-slla

@thesilmarillionblog

@onlyangel-444

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@daisy-the-quake

@jackles010378

@mostlymarvelgirl

@deans-spinster-witch

@drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2 @sapnaploves

@believeinthefireflies95

[noiriarti]

The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 4

NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, maybe mild degradation. semi-public sex WC: 6.7k AN: sorry this took so long to churn out y'all! i'm currently at a crossroads where i could make this fic end at 5 chapters, or extend to 10 and really cook the plot. please let me know which you'd prefer!! i really love all the responses from every single one of you, and, if you all want to see the crazy shit (and smut) i have planned, i'd love to hear it! until then, enjoy this self-indulgent chapter. requests and asks are open, as always <3

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, [Ch. 4], Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8

Chapter 4: Breaking

Anakin woke up first. Because of course he did. Because of course the universe tortured him with the beauty of your sleeping face, naked in his arms. Last night was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and that counted winning Nationals and his first Lego Robotics kit. The previous night, when you lay down on his chest and said all those sweet things, no anger in you at all, he felt his stomach do a full flip, and he accepted right then that he loved you. Once he let the thought in, it was done. He loved you. And that was pure torture, because he knew he wouldn't do anything about it. The two of you were too delicate, too breakable right now.

He watched your sleeping face in the morning light the way a moth watches the moon, bright and so unattainable, with your peaceful eyes and full lips. Those same lips that sneered at him, that told him how smug and horrible he was. He really didn't know how he could be so stupid as to sleep with you. Anakin knew he was never someone who could keep his feelings and his dick separate. He knew it. But the second that you seemed interested, he offered it so freely, probably because he was already done for at that point. Last night, he wanted nothing more than to make you feel pleasure, to make you shake under him and say his name. And now, he was aware of what he had done to himself. What he had been doing to himself since freshman year.

The thought propelled him to get up, to move around. Anakin never could stay still for long. He closed your bedroom door softly, trying to avoid waking you up after he put his clothes back on, then sat on your couch to have a moment to think. A moment where he couldn't smell your shampoo or feel the skin of your stomach against him. Fuck. He leaned his elbows onto his thighs and put his head in his hands.

What was he going to do? Could he even do anything at this point? If he told you how he felt, that he wanted to be more than just someone you slept with, he genuinely didn't know what you'd say. What was the probability that you had feelings for him? Something other than just carnal, animal desire? He'd been noticing, lately, that you were less likely to snap some rude comment at him. That you were, maybe, just maybe, softening towards him. Maybe he was just deluding himself into reading into the soft touches last night, or the fact that you didn't kick him out. But maybe he wasn't. And maybe you'd be scared away by the suggestion that he had feelings for you, for any one of a million reasons. You were only six months from graduation, or some ex still had your heart, or maybe you just didn't want to be seen with him. There were infinite possibilities, and he didn't know which, if any, would happen if he told you. The uncertainty was killing him.

But the biggest thing stopping him was the competition. It made everything so hard between you, and maybe he would have said something if he didn't have to see you every day for hours until he graduated. If he could just run away if you rejected him to lick his wounds in peace. But, if you said no, he'd have to watch you ignore him, watch your perfect, deft hands build something brilliant.

He felt like an idiot. He had put himself in this position. And he couldn't really afford the time commitment of spending hours a day with a fuckbuddy/girlfriend/whatever this was right now. He hadn't fucked you without thinking about it, it was just that he was weak around you. Sure, he was horny and repressed and hadn't gotten some in a while. That's what hands were for. But, in all honesty, he hadn't been interested, really interested, in anyone since sophomore year. Then you came along, the one person he should hate, always next to him in the lab. As he got to know you better, he felt that lump growing in his chest, the one that meant that he was going to be hurt, inevitably. That much love never ended well.

Oh, fuck, what have I done?

He heard hinges creak, and, for a second, he thought you were up, but it was Ahsoka, heading out for a run based on her joggers and jacket. And he was wearing last night's clothes in your living room in the early hours of the morning. Shit. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened, from the timing to his messy hair.

"Hey, Snips." His voice wasn't as confident as he hoped it would be, but Ahsoka took pity on him.

"Hey, Skyguy," she said, sitting down next to him on the couch and wrapping an arm around him. Anakin hesitated for just a moment, before leaning his head onto her shoulder. She was his second-in-command, and she knew things he didn't tell pretty much anyone else. Ahsoka was dependable, if annoying. She was who he imagined his little sister would be in some alternate universe where he had a bigger family. It irritated him to no end that she could read him like a book, especially with the look she was casting him. She knew the slump of his shoulders, the faraway look in his eyes.

"You caught feelings, didn't you?" She said into the silent room. There was a peace, a still serenity to the morning, and he found himself tired of hiding.

"That easy to tell?" He let out a little snort. Of course it was.

"Yeah." For her, at least. She'd seen him cry in pain after a competitor dislocated his shoulder, and she'd seen him go through his breakup with Padme. "Well, why don't you say something?"

"I'm scared that it wouldn't work out, that it would end badly." The confession was quiet, vulnerable. Anakin could practically hear Ahsoka rolling her eyes affectionately.

"You're already enemies. You literally hate each other. How much worse could it get?" There was a smile in her voice, but Anakin was serious.

"So much worse. You don't know--I don't think I could handle silence. Anger, hatred, that's whatever. But silence, not talking, that would kill me. When we're just casual--it's safer. Even if it fucking hurts." He'd never been a guy for casual hookups. He'd never had one before. Anytime he had sex with someone, it had to be emotional for him. Deeply.

"But you already have feelings, so you're going to get hurt if it ends, regardless of what label you put on it. Just… say something, Skyguy." Her arm wrapped around his shoulders squeezed him comfortingly. He nodded, still far away in thought. The possibilities spun around in his mind like debris in a hurricane, smacking him around like a ragdoll. Everything was chaos, and he just wanted to learn more. To know more about how you felt.

"I think I just need more time. To figure out what this is. If there's anything I can do. And I can't let myself get distracted from work," he said. The problem was that, when he got like this, he knew you would be the only thing on his mind, night and day. The only thing that kept him from going insane would be his work, what he was building, but you would always be there when he was working. And that would throw him off his game by a country mile.

"You work too much, Skyguy." Anakin barked out a laugh, a resentful sound.

"Maybe." What was too much? He didn't know the concept.

Every second, every iota of willpower within him was dedicated to getting through college and getting a good job. To making a future. To making money. He swore to himself, when he learned what a bill was and why his mom would cry in her room when the envelopes with the red stamps came to their door, that he would never let her worry about money again. She had done enough of that for a lifetime. Whenever she got him a gift that he knew was expensive, his heart would break. After she bought him the Lego Robotics set, he said he didn't want any gifts for Christmas anymore, only his birthday. Said he didn't want to celebrate consumerism, or some bullshit like that. He used the set until it stopped working. And then he fixed it, and wore it out again. For years, he was angry about how unfair it all was, how the world could punish his mom this way, but all of it boiled off until all that was left was determination, thick like syrup. Then he started the odd jobs, fixing computers for people with small bits of equipment he borrowed from the school robotics team. He worked part-time at the dojo in exchange for lessons, and collected every scrap of prize money he could. He'd slip the twenties he got into his mom's wallet in the middle of the night, his bare feet padding on the tiles, hoping she wouldn't notice.

He only accepted Coruscant University because of the full ride they gave him. If they had offered any less, he would have had to go to Tatooine State University. And now, if he won, $10,000 was enough that he would probably have to make up some excuse for her to accept it, like a thank-you gift for being a good mom. Or maybe he'd invest it and take out small chunks once a month that he could slip into the family bank account, maybe pretend he got a new part-time job. That is, if he won. If.

Whenever he thought about not winning, about what that would mean, he felt a pit open up in his stomach, sucking him up whole. But if he won, a different pit opened up. You'd never forgive him for it. He knew you'd never be able to get over the resentment, the anger at him if he won. You held grudges longer than anyone he'd met before, and this would probably be unforgivable in your book. That was, if he even won.

"When did life get so complicated? If I win, I feel guilty because it'd ruin everything that we're doing. If I don't, I don't even know--I have to win. I can't afford not to. I--I just wanted to make robots." The feelings spilled out of him, letting some pressure off of his heart, but he could feel his eyes prickling. Anakin blinked quickly, getting rid of even the threat of tears. Ahsoka could tell, he knew, but she had the decency not to mention it. The arm around him rubbed his shoulder, saying I know. It's okay.

"It doesn't seem that complicated to me. All you can do is your best with your project, and with… other things. It'll all work out, I promise," Ahsoka said, with such authority in her voice that Anakin believed her.

"Thanks, Snips." He pried himself off of her shoulder, though it was a Herculean task, and threw her a forced smile.

"Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, I'll make you do sprints at practice," he added, and she laughed. Ahsoka pushed off the couch and grabbed her water bottle, then was at the door in a moment.

"I'll see you later, and… I do mean it. Say something," she said as she opened the door and slipped out of it.

That left Anakin alone on your couch, thinking and turning the possibilities over in his mind until he lost his patience and came back into your room. You were still laying in bed, and his heart ached. Anakin came up to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. Something you probably wouldn't have let him get away with if you were awake, honestly. You shifted a bit

"Good morning, sleepy. Let's get to work," he said.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Anakin spent the rest of the day distressingly far from you. First, after you had breakfast together, which made his heart race in an almost embarrassing way, he had to leave immediately for a meeting at the Jinn lab. Then, he had to race to TKD practice, because he was teaching the intro, the intermediate, and the advanced group today, which was definitely evidence that God hated him. He shoved some kind of sandwich from a dining hall down his throat on the shuttle back to the engineering department, where he then sat for four hours working on replicating the results from some test Obi-Wan had run that morning. At some point, he ate two protein bars from his backpack. Anakin was so busy, he almost didn't have time to think or feel, and that soothed him the slightest bit.

Then came the thesis lab, at 10. It was packed to the brim with students. All twelve of your cohort apparently found their way out of the woodwork tonight. He checked the calendar. Seven days until fall semester submission, so that made sense. Most of them probably hadn't even started. Whatever, that just meant less real competition.

When he entered the lab, his eyes found you instantly, the way they always did. You'd saved the workbench across from you for him, a gesture which almost made Anakin pass out. He tried not to read into it as a sign of affection, he really did. He did not succeed. You gave him a little wave and a smile, asked him how his day was, and he went almost dizzy with joy.

By the time an hour passed, he realized that he had done remarkably little. He thought back to that morning, when he was sure having sex with you had been a bad idea precisely because it felt like such a good idea. Anakin decided that he was correct to feel that way, because he couldn't focus on anything right now. You bent over your lab bench to reach something in the back, and he wanted to walk over and sink his fingers into your soft cheeks. Maybe something else. When you lent over your workstation, which was across from his today, and he got a perfect look down your shirt to your perfect bra and tits, he tried to hold back the flashes of how your nipples felt under his fingers and tongue. Each stretch of your lithe neck reminded him of how desperately he wanted to suck a deep red mark right there, then watch you walk around with it.

He really was trying to resist, but he wasn't good at it. Anakin already knew he was weak when it came to you, but this was a whole new level. He was hard, in public, because of you. While he pretended to read an email sagely, a hand crept under his lab bench to palm himself, just to take the edge off. Somewhere around his hip, he remembered Obi-Wan could be watching, either now or years down the line, and his hand retreated to the desk. So much for that idea. But he could deal with a little erection, right?

Wrong. So, so wrong. Because, right in his line of sight, you were trying to unplug a stuck power supply, and you were making these sounds, these grunts and groans, that went straight to his cock. Fuck. Each sound that escaped you sounded almost like your little moans while he ate you out. He could practically still taste you, feel the nub between your legs under his tongue. When you finally got it, you let out a little celebratory yes! which was definitely something he heard last night when you were riding him. The weight of your body on him, the way your tight pussy swallowed his cock whole as he looked into your eyes, the smell of sex in the air.

The image was too much. Anakin's resolve crumbled, and his hand went down all the way until it reached his sensitive head and applied just enough pressure to satisfy the itch. Apparently, that wasn't nearly enough, because his body immediately demanded more more more, greedy and obsessed with what you were doing to him. He had never been this hungry for someone before, like you were the very air he needed to breathe. Since you arrived at the lab, it had been sheer torture. It had gotten him to the point where it might just break him not to fuck you, and soon.

Anakin took a deep, ragged breath, then turned to his project. He inspected what he had done, and he found that he had connected the wrong resistor to the top of the circuit, as well as put the input cable in the wrong place. If he had turned it on, it would short the whole thing. Probably blow out the MPU6050-6 gyroscope and accelerometer chips he had spent hours soldering on yesterday.

Okay. Enough was enough. If his horniness was getting in the way of his work, he had to go take care of it. Nothing could stop him from winning. Anakin muttered out that he was going to the bathroom and rushed off down the stairs to the basement, to one of the private bathrooms.

As soon as the lock clicked behind him, his right hand immediately locked onto his cock through his pants, stroking it as he popped the button with his left. He barely had enough willpower to take his hand off of his cock while he unzipped himself and pulled it out. He was hard, leaking, desperate. He spat in his hand, then pretended it was you stroking him. Slow, languid. Those eyes looking up at him through your lashes, telling him you how badly you wanted him. Fuck it, he thought as he sped up and twisted at the top, just like he imagined you would. He didn't have his cock in your hands or mouth last night, and he was starting to wish he had, if not for the feeling, but to have the mental image stored away. Or maybe an actual image. What if he pulled out a camera while your pussy swallowed his cock whole and wrung the life out of it as you bounced on top of him? Or maybe while you played with yourself for him, fingers shoved within you as you mewled about how badly you wanted him inside you instead?

Anakin nearly came from the image alone. He stopped, just for a second. He wanted to take care of himself quickly, but, when it came to you, he wanted to make it last. Spend time in that space where he meant so much to you. Anakin leaned his body, already sweaty with need, back on the cool metal tiles, his hand on the safety rail. He counted down from 10, just to let his breathing slow and wipe some drops from his forehead, then started fucking his fist again.

Less than five seconds in, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Motherfucker. He pulled it out, just to see, hoping it was you. It was.

Hey, you ok? You've been gone a while

You were worried about him. Fuck. Anakin sped up on his cock. What would you think if you knew he was thinking about you and jerking off? One-handed, he typed out a quick yeah, be back soon, but his phone buzzed again a second later.

If you have some kind of stomach flu and give it to me, I'll smash your bot right now

He breathed out a laugh, but it got caught in his throat as he rubbed his thumb across his frenulum. Anakin almost made a few mistakes as he was typing out his response, but managed to write back.

thanks. but i'm just taking care of something. b back soon

Less than a millisecond later, you sent him a response. How did you type so fast? How would those fast, precise fingers feel wrapped around his shaft?

Does that mean what I think it means?

He sent a quick response without thinking. No, he was not jerking off in the work bathroom because just being near you turned him on beyond belief. Nope.

get your mind out of the gutter, he sent back. But, even if you suspected what he was doing, why would you ask? Maybe you would join him, if he asked. His hand got frenzied at the thought. Twitches jolted his cock. He sent another text.

maybe

Would you want some help with that? Your text flashed up on his screen and hit him like a truck. So you were interested. Maybe you were kinkier than he thought. Maybe he should have asked you to come down here with him, whispering in your ear in the lab so you could follow him, and only him, wherever he wanted so he could fuck you until you couldn't walk.

He typed I bet you'd enjoy helping me. Being on your knees for me, but then deleted it. Scaring you off was the last thing he wanted to do now.

if u want, he sent instead.

You instantly responded. Where are you?

This was happening. It was actually happening. Anakin gripped the base of his cock violently to make sure he didn't cum while he waited. He had to be patient.

basement bathroom, down the hall from the motion capture lab, he typed.

I'll be there in 2 mins, I'll knock 4 times

Those two minutes might just have been the worst two minutes of his life. Waiting, cock in his hand, for you to get there, precum dribbled out of him like a fountain. His cock was already slick with his spit, but it had dried while he waited. Despite the fact that it had been a bit since he last touched himself, he wasn't getting any softer. It was like his body knew you were getting closer, about to touch him. Like it knew you were about to put your soft lips around him.

When the knock on the door came, he did up his pants, unlocked it, and stepped to the side. On the off chance it was someone else, randomly using this exact bathroom.

But it wasn't. It was you, your hair pulled up, away from your face, breathing just a bit heavily from the way you had obviously run down the stairs. You were excited for him, and a thrill shot through him as he realized that he knew you well enough to recognize that.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

In the lab, you had noticed Anakin was off, somehow. That morning, he was so tender to you, helping you up and getting breakfast with you. The way he made you laugh over your off-brand cereal squeezed your heart. When he left, telling you he needed to go to work, you flashed into some future where the two of you were at a run-down kitchen table in some tiny apartment you shared, spending a few precious minutes together before you had to rush off to your jobs in the city. You shook it away.

You spent most of the day working on a thermo problem set in your room, trying desperately to understand how this would ever matter to you. Sometime before lunch, Ahsoka messaged you.

Hey, I forgot my water bottle at home. Can you grab it? I'm at the athletics center xx

You rolled your eyes. Of course you'd bring it. You found it by your little kitchenette area (which was comprised of a definitely-against-the-rules hot plate and microwave), probably discarded last night when Ahsoka was studying. You grabbed it, the metal cool under your fingers, and filled it with water from the Brita in your fridge for good measure. She'd probably forget to fill it during practice if you didn't.

You decided to wear some comfortable slides for your walk to the athletics center, which was only two buildings down from your dorm. The concrete of the imposing building always felt threatening and harsh. The machines were a bit run-down inside, and it wasn't your favorite gym of all time, but they had a pool and volleyball courts, so you found yourself there sometimes for intramural sports, if one of your friends convinced you.

You scanned your ID at the front, and the student attendant gave you a look which questioned why someone wearing sweats and slides, carrying nothing but a water bottle, would show up to the gym at noon on a Sunday. Whatever, you'd be out of here soon. You bounded up the stairs to the second floor, which housed the aerobics room, where Ahsoka told you the team practiced. You saw some of the others--Cody, Vaughn, Rex--in the corner, talking to Ahsoka in their kits. You cracked open the glass door and waved her over. Her bare feet smacked on the wood flooring as she plodded toward you, a bright smile on her face. Once she met you in front of the door, she grabbed the water bottle and guzzled it down until little rivulets slipped past her lips. She was sweaty, and, even though her white and blue braids were tied back, some had fallen out and hung loose around her face.

"Hey! Thank you so much, I was literally dying," she said, winking.

"Yeah, I can see that," you said. Ahsoka let out a little laugh and told you she needed to get back to it, so you were about to turn to leave when you saw a familiar figure.

Anakin. He was in front of a crowd of students, almost all of them wearing black belts, with some smatterings of red belts, as he demonstrated some sort of combination of kicks. You didn't really know that much about taekwondo, even though your roommate was really dedicated to the team, and your whatever-Anakin-was had won about a million championships. You'd never really seen Anakin do anything, though, but you almost had to stop your jaw from physically dropping.

He moved so precisely, so agile and sleek. And then someone took out three boards, thick, wooden things, and he smashed them clean in half with one kick. Details flooded you. The way his standing foot corrected itself to support him, so well-tuned to his body. The furrow of his brow, the beads of sweat collecting on it. The taut muscles in his chest that peeked out from the slightly open vee of the kit. The way his mouth opened in a yell you could hear through the door, an angry, powerful sound that sent shivers down your soul.

You were wrong about him. He wasn't just otherworldly. He was so much more. When he moved like this, you imagined him on a battlefield, cutting through a swath of enemies with those strong limbs like they were nothing. He was ethereal, battle itself come alive, strategic and controlled and precise, but vicious.

Whatever he was showing ended, and the pupils started attempting some mimicry of it. But none of them would ever come close to him, to the way his body moved. You wanted him all to yourself, in that moment, when you realized how incredible he was. You didn't want anyone else to snatch even a fraction of him, of his brilliance. As the jealousy of some imaginary people tugged in your gut, you turned and left. You had work to do, and this was… distracting. Hard to look away from. Hard to stop thinking about. But you could manage it.

Even in the lab that day, when you'd found a bench and saved him a seat, the image of him, snapping out his hand at the wood, didn't leave you. It was like trying not to think of an object, it just kept popping up in the screech of the bandsaw, in the wood flecks that speckled the ground near the drill press. It was everywhere.

It only got worse when Anakin arrived, a few hours later, shooting you glances that made your body simmer. When he sat at his computer and typed, you wondered how you'd never seen that side of him before. How you didn't see that those hands, the ones that had been inside you just hours ago, were so strong. So dangerous. Something stirred within you. That chest that you'd run your hands over held so much power, and the thought of him using it on you, to lift you up and throw you around, made you far wetter than it should. Your clit twinged when you remembered that this very desk was the one he had lifted you up on that first night. Jump. His hands were so strong under your legs, like you weighed nothing. Not that you were tiny or delicate, he was just that strong. You looked across at the table at him. Anakin was precise in the lab, too, his hands twisting the wire in his hands under his fingers just so. Could he grab your clit like that too, and pull and twist? Watch you squirm under him?

Fuck, you had to snap out of it. You caught him looking at you, and he smiled when you made eye contact. Shit, you'd forgotten how cute that smile was when it wasn't full of contempt. It was only turning you on more.

You threw yourself into work, pulling off a horrible plug that wouldn't release no matter what you did, then typing out some words into your running lab log. When you looked up, Anakin was looking at you and breathing heavily, his face suddenly deadly serious. You suddenly felt like his next meal, and the thought made you shiver. After a few seconds, he told you he was going to the bathroom, and asked you to keep an eye on his prints.

The twelve people there had dwindled to six, counting you and Anakin, so you started to wonder if you could get away with going home early once he returned and either fucking him the second you got home, or fucking yourself silly on your vibrator when you got home.

So, when he implied in a text that he was, in fact, jerking off downstairs, you needed to find out where he was. Immediately. His strong hands wrapped around his cock would stay in your fantasies for years. And, you hadn't had him in your mouth yet. And, fuck, you wondered how he would taste, now that he had been teasing himself for so long.

The basement was quiet, empty. You didn't see anyone in the motion capture lab on your way over, so you two would probably be safe. A thrill bubbled through you--fucking in semi-public was something you'd always wanted to try, but no one you'd been with had been willing. You were sure that your panties were more than a little wet at this point, but it wasn't just that you were doing something so daring, it was the fact that you were doing it with Anakin.

The four knocks on the door came quickly, and you heard the tell-tale click of the lock. You opened the door, then found Anakin leaning up against the wall.

"Hey," he said, nonchalantly. That charm was really serving him now, distracting you from the red in his lips and the heave of his chest. You noticed anyway.

"Hey."

"So, uh. I don't have a condom or anything, so we probably shouldn't--y'know," he said, seeming a bit unsure what you wanted to do. His index finger rubbed the metal bar protruding from the wall that he was leaning on.

"Yeah. I was hoping that, um," the words fell short on your tongue. Was there a sexy way to ask this? One that would guarantee he'd say yes?

"What is it?" Anakin was suddenly curious, not ready to accept your pause, or the "I-uh" you uttered as you searched in vein for some innuendo to use.

"C'mon, tell me." His tone had more of an edge to it, one that made you blurt out what you were thinking without a question.

"I was hoping you'd fuck my throat. Hard." You looked up at him, and he was looking at you a bit like he looked at those boards at practice. Like a goal. Like something he wanted, something he'd get. Anakin stalked over to the door and clicked the lock so that no one could get in, then turned to you.

"Get on your knees for me, baby." His voice was so gruff that you did what he said immediately, and dropped onto the hard tile floor. You were on your knees, and all that mattered in that moment was him. His pleasure. "Take it out," he told you, his eyes fixed on you. Your hands came up to his thighs, shaking in anticipation, then ghosted along his hard cock in his jeans. It jumped under your fingers, eager, but you continued up and undid his button. While Anakin stared down at you, you glanced up at his furrowed brow and tightened lips before slowly, teasingly, drawing down his zipper until it showed you his boxers. You hooked a finger under the waistband and drew them down until his cock, hard and heavy, bobbed in front of your hungry mouth.

His head was dark, leaking precum. Anakin had clearly been playing with himself for a long time before this, and you could see some wetness along the shaft, probably spread across his hard cock by his hand. The veins were defined, angry and desperate. One of his hands came up to your jaw, caressing it, then trailed to the back of your head to pull your mouth closer to him.

You reached up and grabbed around the middle of his shaft experimentally, just to test his reaction, and he let out a huff. The skin was so soft and silky under your fingers, and you wondered if the head would be smooth and warm in your mouth. You tested that theory immediately, taking the entire head in your my mouth in one go. You were both too impatient for teasing right now.

"Ahhffuuuck," he groaned as his other hand braces him against the wall. You hummed, but your jaw was open as wide as it could go, so it came out incoherent. Your tongue darted to his slit, lapping up his precum, which was salty and musky, like the rest of him last night. It was Anakin's smell, something masculine and sexy that made you get even wetter. Your tongue started brushing over different parts of his head, feeling the spongy head and the smooth bumps of his frenulum. He really liked it there, it seemed, based on the sharp inhale and small eye roll you saw him give.

You loved his reactions, you loved watching him lose that filter that pretended he didn't want to do horrible, rough things to you. Your head started bobbing as you worked your lips over and over across the rim of his head, letting the whole thing pop out of your lips over and over. Words would probably start pouring out him soon like last night, and the memory of him saying ride me was enough to propel your hand down to where your splayed out thighs met.

"What? Is blowing me in the bathroom turning you on?" There it was. You nodded, his cock still in your mouth. Yes, it was turning you on more than it had any right to. Knowing that someone could be right outside the door while you stuffed him deeper down was everything you wanted. You took more of him in, going as far down as you could, before he hit the back of your throat.

You gagged on him, your body begging for air, but then he used the hand that was behind your head to shove you off him. His fingers wrapped into the hair at the base of your skull and turned you up to face him. He was completely disheveled, the sweet Anakin still there, but a kind of sweet that terrified you, that would ruin you while whispering how good you were in your ear.

"Well, go on. Touch yourself while I fuck your throat, baby," he said, his voice commanding but caring, which only made you wetter. You didn't waste a second, dipping your fingers into your pussy, which was almost shamefully wet. As soon as he saw you sink down on them, he used the subtle opening of your mouth to shove his cock deep down inside your throat, then pulled back and thrust in again, harder. His cock was practically thrumming under your lips, needy and insistent.

The feeling made you speed up your fingers slamming the walls of your pussy, but it wasn't enough. Nothing other than him was ever enough. Desperate for anything to dull the need, you thrust your hips into your palm, grinding against it while your fingers were still buried inside you. The extra friction made you whine around him and squeeze your eyes shut as he worked you back and forth. Suddenly, his hand in your hair wrenched you off his cock.

"Eyes open, beautiful. Look at me," Anakin growled. You instantly opened them, staring up at him. He was wrecked for you. His open mouth huffed out hot, ragged breaths, and, under your fingers, his thighs were clenched so hard you thought they'd give out. As soon as he saw your eyes on his, he lowered you back onto his dick, this time even more frenzied when he saw the devoted look you were casting him and your cheeks hollowed out. You were doing your best to suck the life out of him, and it was working. Quiet grunts started ripping out of his chest every time your tongue passed the bottom of the head of his dick.

"Ffffuck yeah, suck my cock--You like when I pull your hair hard like that? Like it when I use you?" The words were unfiltered, wild. You nodded as best you could, but his brutal pace moving your head was too much, so you tried to say yes, please, I love this so fucking much, but it came out as a series of incoherent noises around his length. Anakin smirked, ravenous, when he heard your desperate cries, but quickly had to squeeze his eyes shut and let his mouth drop open in pleasure. You loved seeing him come apart like this, just because of you. Because of your mouth. He recovered quickly, and words, dirty things, started pouring out of him.

"Yeah, I know you do. Can you feel how much I wanted to bend you over that fuckin' table in the lab? How much I wanted to--shit--slide my fingers inside you and watch you fuck yourself on them?" You whimpered around him, his words going to your head. Your pussy was on fire, heat spreading to every part of your body. He sped up, and you could feel his head smacking the soft flesh at the back of your throat. Your lips ached, your knees ached, your pussy ached, but you would do anything for him at that moment. And he knew it. He cursed under his breath. "Fuuuck, you're so fucking good at this--just like that, baby." It only took a few more seconds before you felt his thighs seize, his balls tightening and his cock starting to jerk and twitch in your mouth. You tongue was so tired, and you weren't sure breathing was even something you remembered how to do anymore.

"Gonna--fuck-- gonna cum. Gonna paint your fucking throat," he groaned, letting noises fall from his lips as you saw it finally overtake him. You were so far gone that you could barely feel your wrist from the amount you were moving it. You could barely feel anything except his cock tensing up inside your mouth. His orgasm burned through him like a wildfire, and, based on the loud gasp that ripped from his chest as the first shot of cum hit the back of your throat, he was losing himself in it. It was bitter, so salty, but you barely tasted it as it slid straight down your tongue. The next spurt hit you, and his hips thrust sharply into your wet, hot throat, but the cum stayed on your tongue this time. It was thick and tasted like a more intense version of his precum painting your mouth. Anakin rode out his orgasm, still buried inside you, then gently pulled his cock out and let go of your burning scalp.

You looked up at him with the best doe eyes you could, then stuck your cum-covered tongue out for him to see. His eyes were half-lidded, but curious. You wanted to badly to make him desperate for you again, to make him need you the way you needed him. Then you took it back in, and made a show of swallowing all his cum.

He groaned, giving you a fuck, baby as he recovered from both the image and his orgasm, and you registered, somewhere far away in your mind, that it was the first time he had called you that outside of sex, and that you wanted to hear it more.

His warm hand trailed your jaw, a bit tentative, holding you like you might shatter in that moment. And, you were. You were shattered, horny beyond belief and desperate to be taken care of. Every joint and part of your body ached, but nothing mattered other than having him inside you as soon as possible.

"Please, Anakin, I--I. I need to be fucked--I need you inside me, please," you begged, still on your knees for him. Anakin offered you a hand up, then helped you get off your sore joints. For a moment, you wondered if he'd leave you alone with your dripping, aching pussy, as some revenge for something. For some sin you'd committed years ago. But then he spoke, his deep blue eyes boring into yours with a heady mix of sincerity, sweetness, and something else. Something deeper.

"I'll take care of you, don't worry. But, first, you're gonna go upstairs and tell everyone you're going home, but you'll wait for me by the entrance. Then, when we get back, I'm going to fuck you on my bed until you can't walk straight."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Tag List (please let me know if you'd like to be added! i'm also searching for beta readers for this series, just to tell me if you like the concepts of each chapter, so message me if you'd like to chat about that): @skywalkercinema @throughparisallthroughrome @anak1ns-wife @radiantvader @eloquenceinpurple @rosekillerdaughter @doblasftcisco @rhiannonhippiegirl @mistress-amidala @mortalheartache @xorilixx @sunnytotheend @olivia091108 @aniiuv @sotal3rsa @springnaiad @bettysgardenswift @ursogorgeous13 @avalovesjoe1 @anibeaar @anisluvrgirl @johnbassplayercutie @mcdonaldshelppage @usuck @sythethecarrot @lovrsm

[aphroditesmoon]

umm, you’re taking Gwen x reader? I have a request. Black cat reader who was best friends with Gwen and Peter but is the rival of Spider woman. Something or another happens and their identity’s get revealed

love it if we made it

gwen stacy x blackcat!reader (gn)

warnings: cursing, tiny angst, gwen's peter is alive here, reader has hair long enough to tie them (only description)

a/n: i rlly hope u like this!

°°°°°

A robbery happened on a Tuesday, 6th July 3AM sharp. A robbery in a golden jewelry store. A minute after that, the Pandora store next to it.

No one cared about the robbery, of course. People were too busy talking about the anonymous donation worth more than 15000 the next day to three different centres in need of them.

Gwen Stacy's mind however, is still stuck at a particular difficult nemesis, the black cat. She's never failed to capture a villain like this, never took this long. But again and again, with time, the annoyingly quick and sneaky cat escapes from her grasps.

It was probably obvious that she wasn't too enthralled by any of the breaking news today, all of them critiquing the infamous Spider-Woman for being unable to get her webs on the villain. Her mind was so full and blurry with different kinds of thoughts that she didn't notice her own best friend walking into class and waving at her.

You took your spot next to Gwen, creaking your chair loudly to get her attention. When she finally flinches out of hee daydream and looks at you, she's met with a knowing smile. "Sleeping? Its not even the first period yet." She shook her head and forced a smile out. "No, just dreading AP maths." You laughed at that. Gwen was good at maths, and all the stupid numbers and figures that came with it, that couldn't have been the reason.

"Well, whatever it is, I need you took a little alive for this gift im about to-" "Gift?" Her eyes brighten up immediately. You grinned at her and pulled out the small paperbag, waving it in front of her.

Gwen, impatient she is, snatches it from you and gets to opening its ribbons open. "It's not even my birthday." She mumbles. "Good, now you can't ask me for anything on your birthday." You settled it, earning a mischievous smirk from her. She knows, you would've given her anything if she'd only asked.

You revel in her suprised expression as she pulls out the golden bracelet, it was a waving design, two long whirling gold around in a circle, with a small blue diamond placed in the middle. "You are insane." She says, glaring your way. "What? Can't treat my girl?" The both if you turn slightly pink with those words. You should've just said your welcome.  "The blue reminded me of you. A centerpiece around all the golden whirly shit." She lets out a small laugh, shaking her head. "I love it, thank you." You replied with a nod and your same small smile.

"This must've costed you a lot though,  couldn't you have bought me a two dollars friendship bracelet." She joked while putting the gift on her right wrist. "Oh don't worry, I stole it." You say with your usual tone.

Gwen almost backtracked when you said that, before hitting herself awake in her mind, forcing herself to leave the Spider-Woman alter ego aside for today.

You were making a joke because you didn't want her to feel bad, you always did. So she rolled her eyes before repacking the box and the paperbag to put them under her table. "You'd be a shit thief." She concluded. You furrow your brows. "Well then, at least I'd get to see Spider-Woman." You teased while wiggling your brows.

"I wonder how many people became really bad burglars and thieves just to get her autograph." The last of your sentence became muffled ariund the sounds of other students as your teacher finally arrive, but gwen who heard it all to well only smiled at the thought. 

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

School finished two hours ago, and neither of you saw or heard from Peter the whole day. He was probably at the lab again, as he always was so you didn't really bother.  Gwen, on the other hand, wouldn't stop trying to get him to answer his phone.

She's pacing around the room with her phone speaker on while you're laying on her bed, messing with her giant flower shaped plushie while she loses her mind. "Maybe he left his phone at home." You reasoned. Gwen shool her head and kept trying.  "He always lose his damn phone."

You frowned at her and decided you were done waiting. "Gwen, its over 10pm, I need to get back home, my dad will be worried." You say before getting up and taking your jacket from her coat hanger. "When has your dad ever even noticed if you're gone." She snaps, phone thrown on her bed in frustration. 

Your eyes widen at the words and you scoff at her.  She opened her mouth to apologize, immediately getting cut off. "Look, I don't know what spider has crawled up your ass these days, but we both know Peter's always disappearing these days, he's probably fine, and I'm going home since you're so worried over your friend that isn't in front of you." You ended the conversating as soon as it started, not giving her a chance to respond, you left her room, banging the door.

Your house was a few blocks away from Gwen's. When you're sure no one's around, you climb up quickly inti your room by the window, hands fast, some help from your claws. Tossing your backpack onto your bed, you changed into your suit without wasting time.

Gwen was right about something, your dad has long since noticed if you ever even came home these days. You jumped back out of your window, swinging upwards onto the roof instead of the streets.

You hopped from building to building, taking your time while enjoying the view. The lights. They were beautiful tonight,  accompanied by the bright moon, staring down from above. Even the neon signs of Joe's Pizza seemed pleasant to look at in times like this. You wished you could've shared these kind of moments with Gwen, but you didn't want to think of her now.

You find a spot above a tall empty building, where the ciry lights seemed clearer, and the smell of trash and dog piss was further away. Pulling your hair up in a bun, you tied it over twice, fixing it so you'll be able to see better without your hair always on your face.

And what a fate, as you're tilting your head down whilst your hands fixes the hairtie, a robbery happens right in front of your eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat at the crime, until you remembered you were also a criminal of a sort. This was interesting to see. A crime done by someone other than the Black Cat, finally.

The pleasure was shortlasting though,  when you had realized who was getting robbed. It was Peter. The masked man pulled out his gun, aiming it to Peter's face when he tried to run. "Run, and I'll shoot." His voice a mumble from below.

You move to stand up, backing away from any visibility, tiptoeing until you've reached the end of the building and hopped off, landing on your feet.

When you walked over the building to stand behind the robber, Peter's eyes involuntary widen,  as if a warning towards another civillian. But you weren't a civilian,  and when he takes in tbe suit and the masks, he realized who you were.

The robber gets annoyed when his eyes weren't on him anymore. "What the hell are y-" he spuns around towards you, receiving a kick to his stomach, making him fall on his back on the blow. You smiled at the victory watching Peter look between you and the fallen robber in confusion.

It seemed your victory didn't last long when a sling if webs shot againts your face.

You wretched the sticky web out of your face, growling in disgust. "Robbing an innocent citizen? That's low, even for you kitty." The annoying voice spoke. Once you manage tu cut the webs off fully with your claws. Regaining your vision,  you sneer at the ghost-spider, standing in front of Peter, who's finding protection behind her. "Is being blind apart of being spider-woman? I didn't rob him, I saved him." The hero's eyes squint along with her mask. "You? Saving people?"

Your eyes actually widen in offense before looking towards Peter. "Tell her doofus! I literally kicked him for you."

Gwen swings her head back at him and he stutters in panic. "Wh-I mean, yeah, she did, technically...kick him." You fold your eyes and glare at her as she turns back at you.  "See?" The two of you lock eyes for a minute long before she finally speak. "Peter Parker-" She calls him.

Both you and Peter frown at the name dropping . "-go home. I'll deal with her." The boy doesn't hesitate, turning his back and running way.

You snorted at her words. Always a show off. "You'll deal with me? How?" She tilts her head. "Like this." When you saw herbhand moving up, you move faster than her, snatching up her wrists in a tight grip as you push her againts the wall. "I might not have any venom on me, but try that again spidey, and I'll make you'll feel these claws for days." You see her physically wince at the words.

"You think just because you saved one man, that erases the 166 crimes you've done?" She asks sarcastically. You pout and pretends to think.  "I think, I really don't give a fuck, but its nice of you to remember all of my crimes, definitely not weird and obsessive or anything." 

She tries to speak again but you shush her when your eyes bore into the bracelet on her wrist. Firstly, who is stupid enough to wear their jewelry outside of their suit? Its like they're begging to be robbed.  Secondly; "Where did you get that bracelet?"

Your nemesis lets out a 'huh?' You repeat yourself, sterner. "I bought it?" You scoff. "You couldn't have bought something I've robbed." She seems annoyed by your questions. Being accused of stealing by a thief is pretty hurtful. "I could've brought it before you robbed it, you know."

You hummed thoughtfully at her words before you spoke. "You could've, or-" Your grip on her loosens, "-We're both just really, really, stupid." Gwen cocks her head in confusion. "What the hell are y-" realization hit her then. "Oh my god, no."

"No? Are you sure, Gwen stacy?" She winced at the mention of her name. Her hands move towards your mask. "How did I never..." Her words trails off a second before loud voices of people coming your way was heard. You pull her back swiftly into an alley, putting yourself between her and the open space.

The both of you lean yourselves againts the wall, you feel her fingers slowly slips into yours and holds back a tired sigh.

Once the group of kids has passed the alley, you finally relaxed. Her hands try to pull aw

ay but you curl your own fists around it.

She spins you back to her and her free hand moves to graze over your mask. "I didn't want you or Peter to be involved like this." She murmed. Your own hand slids around her waste as you lean closer. "I don't think it's up to you, Gwen." She huffs. "You know what I mean." You say nothing, eye staring down at your intertwined fingers. 

"Are you still going to get me arrested, spidey?" You could feel her glare from inside the mask. "What? Because I'm your friend, it all changes now?" You honestly ask. "Because I love you, and I know you and your heart, is why it's all different now. You're not who I thought you were, you can't be,  the Black Cat I've thought of before was evil in my head, evil and cruel."

You say nothing, waiting for her to continue. "You're not evil, and you're not cruel." You raised a brow. "Then, what am I?"  She's hesitates. "You're, with me. And I'm not going to let them take you, not anymore, whoever your secret identity is." Your mouth remains shut at that.

  All the bad jokes and sarcastic comments dies on your throat.  But your stubornnes always wins, "You didn't really seem to care much about me this evening."

Gwen groans loudly. "Come on, we'll go back to my place, I won't even look at the ground on the way home to shown you how much I'm paying attention to you now." You snort, a smile escaping you despite your efforts to remain upset at her.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Okay. Here me out. A headcannon:

Logan getting surprise gifts for Sunshine. Logan would buy something he knows Sunshine wants or something she mentioned liking one time but would send Theo in to give it to her. Like, he'd pump him up about it too

"Your mom really wants this but she'll only accept it if you give it to her, okay bub?"

Theo insists he understands but manages to tattle on himself every single time 

- "Oh my goodness! Thank you, Bean! I was just thinking about how much I wanted this. You sure you can't read minds?" 

"No but maybe Mr. Logan can! Cause he's the one who bought it."

"Maybe. But you gave it to me. And that's the most important part of giving a gift." Sunshine would say, booping Theo on the nose and giving him a tight hug with a million kisses. "Cause the one who gives the gift gets all the thanks! Thank you, Bean!"

"You're welcome, Mommy!" 

- Later Sunshine corners Logan about it

"Theo gave me the most gorgeous bracelet earlier today."

"Mhmm, he's a good kid."

"Yeah, the best. But I guess I'm gonna have to keep a closer eye on him to figure out what he's been selling to be able to afford 14k gold." 

Sunshine would pause to give Logan the opportunity to confess. He never does. 

"I should start by double checking my secret marijuana plant under the bed to see if he's clipping that. Or the communal meth lab in the basement, I would hate for him to hurt himself down there. Janice does NOT clean her station even though we've all asked her to a thousand times. Or maybe I'll just pull him out of school to make sure he has no one to sell to anymore."

"Alright, ya got me," Logan would turn around with folded arms

"No shit. That was an insane gift, Lo." Logan would mumble something about not worrying about it and would go back to whatever he was busying himself with

I LOVE THIS HEADCANON SO MUCH OH MY GOOOOD! 😍 HONEYYYY!😍 You're so talented, thank you so so much! ❤️

First of all, this is so like Logan! 😂 Like, he knows Sunshine won't accept it from him, he knows he should get Theo to get it to her but doesn't see that Sunshine would maybe question how exactly her little son got her an expensive af bracelet??? LIKE SIR? THAT'S A CHILD?? SUNSHINE KNOWS HIS ALLOWANCE, SHE IS THE ONE WHO GIVES IT TO HIM??? 😂

Theo insists he understands but manages to tattle on himself every single time Theo is a precious cinnamon roll who cannot lie even when he wants to 🥰

"Maybe. But you gave it to me. And that's the most important part of giving a gift." Sunshine would say, booping Theo on the nose and giving him a tight hug with a million kisses. "Cause the one who gives the gift gets all the thanks! Thank you, Bean!" HELP, SUNSHINE AND THEO ARE SO CUTE❤️

"Mhmm, he's a good kid."

"Yeah, the best. But I guess I'm gonna have to keep a closer eye on him to figure out what he's been selling to be able to afford 14k gold."  THAT IS THEO'S MOM AND DAD❤️

"I should start by double checking my secret marijuana plant under the bed to see if he's clipping that. Or the communal meth lab in the basement, I would hate for him to hurt himself down there. Janice does NOT clean her station even though we've all asked her to a thousand times." asdfdghjkl I can't stop giggling😂 Sunshine would be saying all that with a completely straight face until Logan turned around 😂❤️

I feel like Logan would definitely try to play it off and Sunshine would legit go around the table to look him in the eye and go like,

"You could've told me, you know?"

"You wouldn't have accepted it if it didn't come from Theo."

"Okay but to repeat, I know how much money he has. He has a jar he puts his savings into, and it's like twenty dollars."

"Okay but-"

"The jar is made of glass."

"Noted."

"But that was incredibly sweet of you."

"Yeah it's...it's nothing."

"It's not nothing. I'll wear it forever so, sorry I'm not giving it back."

[luxheroica]

under your tree (1/3)

Anyways Ekko/Jinx has made me insane and I'm not stopping. So here have fanfic about Ekko, Jinx, and the tree that I wrote in a fugue state last night. Planned part 1 of 3, the first is alternate-Powder and alternate-Ekko.

Also on AO3

----

She drags him up out of her lab, not entirely sure where to go but too jumbled up to stay. Powder’s heart is racing as she twines her fingers in Ekko’s, and she has never been happier to feel his grip strong and vital in her own. That breathless moment when he wasn't moving when she thought– she had held VI's body in the same way. 

“Where are we going?” he asks, bewildered, stumbling along behind her. 

“Just come on.”

Her feet know the path and she trusts them. While she does her mind races, all of the strangeness of the past few weeks slotting into place like a puzzle in her mind. 

His fear on seeing her, his confusion at Milo and Claggor, the way his whole face changed when he saw Benzo… the way he hadn’t known Vi was dead. She thought he was just messing with her, in a particularly cruel way, or maybe he’d lost his mind after a particularly weird dream. 

The way he’d kissed her tonight, like he was so desperate to hold on to her. 

Now it all makes sense. Something that she was beginning to suspect but didn’t think was quite possible. 

Her feet take her to the tree. Where Ekko painted his portraits of Vi. 

Vi who lives. Vi who is from some other place and time entirely. 

“What… is this?” Ekko– her Ekko– crosses to the portraits alongside her, wonderment in his eyes. “Is that Vi?”

Powder smiles. “A present,” she says. “From another you.” 

Ekko scoffs disbelieving. “Seriously, you can stop messing with me.” 

“Did you know that the competition is tomorrow?” 

Ekko whirls around. “What? No– it's weeks away!” He waits for the punchline that he knows is coming, and then scratches at his head. “Seriously? What do you mean it’s tomorrow, I thought–” 

“You had plenty of time?” 

Ekko nods. He swallows and she watches his Adams apple bob, as he takes this in. “Powder, why did I wake up on the floor of your lab?” 

“Because an alternate universe version of you took over your body for a few weeks, built a time machine that created a space anomaly, and then went back to his universe.” 

She expects him to laugh. She expects him to accuse her of making it up. Even as she says it, it sounds a little crazy. 

Ekko flops to the ground. “Huh.” 

“Yeah,” she says. She doesn't approach, doesn't touch him. Gives him time to process. 

“That is about the wildest shit I've ever heard.” 

Powder snorts. “Don't I know it. Imagine three weeks of my boyfriend acting like a lunatic, and I only now figure out why.” 

“Imagine losing three weeks of your life to an another version of you!” He scratches at his head in that way he does when he's frustrated. “I can't believe the content is tomorrow and I haven’t prepared anything!” 

Powder laughs. The Innovators Competition seems like the least of her concerns right now, but of course for him he was just thinking about it. It consumed his every thought “To be fair, while making his time travel device he maaaaybe finished your battery. It works great, by the way!” 

Ekko sits up, offense playing across his face. “He finished my designs??” Then he shakes his head. “Is it weird to be jealous of another version of myself?” 

Powder considers. And yeah she's gonna push it because she likes pushing his buttons. “Would now be a bad time to tell you he kissed me?” 

Ekko nearly chokes. 

“In my defense I thought he was you!” 

The fight goes out of Ekko, and he sighs. Lays down in the grass and looks up at the wall where Vi’s eyes from another universe look down on the both of them. “You think she’s alive, in his world?” 

Powder nods. She curls herself next to him, intertwining her fingers with his. “Yeah,” she says. “He told me about her, a bit– said it was a dream he had. Said she was the strongest fighter in all Zaun.” 

There under that tree she tells him all about the dream the other Ekko told her about, that strange world where Vi lived and was in love with a Piltover heiress of all people and she went by a different name and she and Ekko hadn't really talked in years and Zaun was still just like it used to be and maybe even worse. 

“It’s weird,” Ekko says while she talks. He rubs his forehead, his brow creasing in concentration. “It's like I can remember it, a little– while you're talking. Flashes of memory… I don't know if they're real.” 

Powder curls their fingers together. “I think alternate universes are uncharted territory for anyone.” 

Ekko snorts. “You're telling me.” He squeezes her hand reassuringly. “It’s strange. Everything I'm feeling, it all feels so sad and awful and scary… even if VI's alive so many people were dead, and we hadn't talked in forever…” he trails off, and Powder imagines it– really imagines it– that universe that other-Ekko came from and it makes her sad. “And don't get me wrong, I'm glad he left and I get to be me and not have my life hijacked by some alternate me, but…” 

Powder levers herself up. “But?” she prompts. 

“But why'd he do it?” He turns to look at her, and there's something anxious in his brown eyes. “I don't know if I could leave to a world where we never talked.” 

Powder smiles. Rolls over and kisses the bridge of his nose. They haven't said it yet but she loves him–whichever version. “Because he's you. And because they needed him, the people on the other side.” 

Ekko turns this over in his mind. “What was he like, the other me?” 

Powder scrunches her nose as she tries to think. “Like you but weird. Like, he was really jumpy at first and then he got all sentimental over weird stuff. But, he was you– just as smart, just as idealistic. Always had his head in the clouds and his nose in an equation.” 

Ekko laughs. Flicks her nose. “That doesn't sound like me at all.” 

“Oh doesn't it, Mr. Free-Energy-For-All?” 

“I still can't believe he finished my designs.” 

Powder rolls back laughing, because he sounds so indignant. He continues to glare, annoyed. And then after a minute joins her in laughter. 

“I think I saw him for a minute, at the end there.” Powder says once she's caught her breath. 

“Oh? What was he, uh…?” 

“Really hot,” she says, because she knows it's going to make him jealous but she’s also calling him hot and he can't say anything about it, and it’s such a delicious conundrum. “Kind of rugged, too– big baggy clothes and wearing war paint. Not at all a buttoned up nerd.”

Ekko rolls over, pins her to the ground like she's been goading him to do. “I'll show you buttoned up nerd,” he says, and he kisses her breathless. 

And it’s different from the way he kissed her earlier tonight. For one he knows how she likes to be kissed, knows how to tease her. But there's nothing of that delicate way he held her like she was this precious thing that could break, and she wants that intensity again. 

They stay like that awhile. Just kissing, just enjoying each other. And they don't think of other worlds where they haven't talked in years and maybe never will again. 

At last they stop, because Ekko looks at his watch and says, “Oh shit, I should get you back home!” 

Powder tickles his knee with hers, hoping to tempt him into giving in again. “We’ve got time. I said I was going to the dance.” 

“It’s almost 2am, I'm pretty sure your dads are gonna kill me.”

Powder snorts disbelieving. “Nah, they wouldn't.” 

“No, I know Silco quit being a crime boss but I'm pretty sure he still knows how to hide a body like, super good.” 

Powder kisses him again– with a little bit of tongue, for good measure– and then when she's sure he's about to give in she jumps to her feet. Ekko looks at her exasperated but fond. “Alright, genius. Let's get you home– you've got a presentation to give tomorrow.” 

Ekko groans. 

[ourfleur]

「Alone Together」　[Ada Wong x Fem Reader]

Summary: You were just supposed to retrieve the weapon, thats all. But when a woman from your past makes an appearance you can’t get your mind off of her.

Tags: ada wong x fem reader, angst, hurt/comfort, (mild?) smut, making out, ahhhhhh

An: Hii okay so I dont know how much I like this but yknow its whatever, i love ada tho so!!

follow my ao3

“Drop your weapon.” Your chilling voice rang out behind her. “I’m not fucking joking Ada. Drop your weapon.” She turned her head back to you, dropping her gun to the floor. “What are you doing here?” Your voice was cold and distant, as you pointed your pistol at Ada’s head. “Same as you I assume, we both have jobs to do, don’t we?” She said, eyes narrowing at the girl holding her at gun-point. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t shoot you right now for what you did to me.” You snarled. Ada stared at you silently, the quiet seeming to last forever, before familiar footsteps echoed from behind the door. ‘Shit’ you thought to yourself, the thing chasing you was here now. Your eyes darted over to the door, then back to Ada. “Don’t ever let me see you again.” Uttering one last thing before making your exit.

The moment you left your heart started aching at seeing the woman. Four years of having pure hatred for her dissolved the moment she was back in front of you. Every second you looked at her it became harder to keep yourself composed, only wanting to grab her and never let her go. And now that she was gone again all you wanted to do was run back to her. You sighed, pushing away your foolish thoughts and moving on with your mission.

You had been sent to France to retrieve a weapon of mass destruction, to make sure that it didn’t get into the wrong hands. This was an extremely important mission and you couldn’t risk and mistakes, it was already enough that there was this whole insane cult running the whole place but the fact your former partner, the partner who you had shared your deepest secrets, the partner who you had grown to love in ways that you couldn’t describe, the partner who had double crossed you, was there, working against you.

You made your way to a stronghold that you were told had information on locating the weapon, avoiding all of the cult members and obstacles. You carefully made your way into the large building, taking extra care to not be spotted. Once you were inside you couldn’t shake the feeling you were being watched. Eyes scanning any place someone could be hiding, but nothing. Making your way through the rooms and halls, you felt like you were losing your mind, everywhere you looked you swore you could see Ada. That dark red fabric appearing in the corner of your eye every time you turned your head. You cursed at yourself mentally, angered that you couldn’t stop thinking about her. You needed to focus, the mission depended on it. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself at the thought of Ada.

Finally you arrived in the right place, a computer lab. You looked all over for the right computer, finding it hidden away in a corner. You inspected the files on it for a bit till the right one finally crossed your eye. The only way to get to the weapon was through a locked door, only accessible with a keycard. To your luck, the keycard was only a short bit away, in the next building over. You let out a sigh of relief, soon your mission would be over and you could go home and not have to think about anything, especially the woman in red.

You ran out of the room, jogging down a long corridor that led to a large open room. Before you could reach the door though, you were grabbed and thrown to the floor brutally. Shocked, you turned around to see the thing that was chasing you finally caught up. You drew your gun, shooting it as much as you could. It flew towards you and before you could even react, it was on top of you. Its claws wrapping around your neck as it pushed you deeper into the ground. You tried and tried to pry it off of you but nothing was working. Your grip loosened as you faded in and out of consciousness. Your vision started to fade to black, your body growing limp as it started to accept its fate.

A muffled voice called your name, even with your blurry faded vision you could still see the familiar red fabric. “Ada..?” you choked out. You could feel the beast on top of you get up to attack the new threat that faced it. You tried to get your bearings, taking in a deep breath, air filling your lungs. You attempted to stand before collapsing, you could barely keep your eyes open. Before you could entirely lose consciousness you felt a pair of familiar arms wrap around you. Ada pulled you up, keeping you stable as she walked you away from the scene that had just played out. “Hold on tight, okay?” You didn’t even have the energy to respond, only being able to meekly nod while you mustered all your strength to hold onto her waist.

Ada used her grappling hook to pull the both of you away. The two of you landed at the entrance to a different building. Ada pulled you into the room, holding you as tight as she could. She saw a couch and brought you to it, gently laying you down on it. Ada pulled away, looking down at your broken body and then back to the door. Ada turned to the door, giving you one last look before making her exit. But before she could, your hand shot to hers. Ada turned back to you, your tired eyes giving her a look of pain and desperation. You couldn’t pretend to hate her anymore and you couldn’t let her slip away from you again. “Please Ada… stay.” Her eyes softened, looking at the door again and then back to you. Ada let out a breath before moving back towards you. You tried to sit up but cried out in pain the moment you moved your body.

“I bet I look pretty pathetic right now.” Your tone both playful and full of pain. Ada chuckled, “Yeah, you do.” She said with a small smile. You laughed at Adas response, immediately regretting it afterwards when you felt a sharp pain in your side. You looked down to see a large thorn stuck in your side, blood soaking the fabric that surrounded your wound, you didn’t even notice. Adas eyes moved down to where yours were looking and widened when she saw the object, stuck deeply in your side. Your name left Adas' lips in a panic as she frantically searched the room you were in for any medical supplies. She opened drawer after drawer in the room that looked to be a lounge once you actually paid attention to your surroundings. You heard Ada shuffling around and then a relieved noise leave her mouth.

Ada came back to you, crouching down on the ground next to your wound. Her delicate hands wrapped around the thorn. “Are you ready?” She looked up at you for confirmation that she could pull it out. You nodded, moving your hand down to hold her free hand. As your fingers entwined she began to pull on the thing stuck in your side. You screamed in pain as it was torn out of you, blood now gushing freely from your open wound. Ada immediately grabbed some gauze she found, releasing her hand from yours to lift your back slightly off the couch so she could wrap the gauze around your wound. Ada stood back up, grabbing your hand to pull you into a sitting position. You groaned as she sat you up, the pain in your side still excruciating.

Ada sat down behind you, grabbing some of the leftover gauze. “Your back is pretty scrapped up too..” Adas fingers traced over the wounds she could see through your torn shirt. Your breath hitched as she moved down to lift your shirt. “A-Ada what are you doing..?” Your words coming out stuttered. “Helping. I am helping.” Your name left her tongue with a tinge of annoyance, almost to say ‘Just let me do this for you.’ You exhaled, muttering a small ‘okay’. Her fingers grabbing the hem of your tight shirt, pulling it up. “Raise your arms.” She said, her breath on your neck leaving goosebumps. You brought your arms up as much as you could, pained groans leaving your lips.

Ada pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in your bra and revealing your tattered back. There were cuts and bruises speckled all over you. Ada took off her gloves, setting them to the side. She took her hand and slowly caressed your wounds with her fingers. You hissed at the feeling, your cuts stinging every time they were touched. Ada took in a breath, reminding herself of what she was doing and what was in front of her. Ada removed her hands from your back. You could hear her rustling around a bit behind you but were unsure of what she was doing until you felt a cold, wet cloth rub against your back. The more you thought about it, the more insane this situation became and the more the silence between the two of you became agonising. You sensed Ada felt the same but before you could say anything, she beat you to it.

“You need to be more careful.” She sounded exasperated, stern, the way a mother sounds when lecturing their child. You snorted, “You sound just like my mom.” Finding amusement in Adas worry. “If I wasn’t there you would’ve died, and I still haven’t gotten a thank you.” She smiled slightly, as did you. “Fine, fine. Thank you, Ada… for saving me.” You could feel Adas content with your gratitude and another silence fell over the two of you.

After a little bit longer of Ada tending to the wounds on your back, she set down the rag. “There.” You could feel her lifting her body off of the couch and your body reacted before your mind. You turned around and pulled her back down. Her eyes went wide for a second as she was forced back onto the sofa. “Ada. I can’t do this.” Your voice cracked as you spoke. “Wha-”, “I can’t let you leave again.” You didn’t even mean to say these things but once you started you couldn’t stop. “I hated you for so long for betraying me. I thought about it every single day, I thought about you every single day.” Voice shaky as you relayed your feelings to the woman. “For months after you betrayed me I thought I saw you everywhere, I mean fuck, I hoped I did.” All Ada could do was just stare at the girl in front of her. “I mean, I don’t know… I thought I hated you, I wanted to see you and take everything out on you.” You felt tears prick your eyes as you continued. “I kept thinking about the things we did together, the person you helped me become when we worked together and the person I became after. I know it was probably all an act but… I can’t do this Ada.” You looked into Ada's dark eyes, you could see something in them but you weren’t quite sure what. “Ada please… please stay this time.” Your eyes were desperate, you were pleading for this woman to stay.

Your teary eyes stared into Ada’s stoic face, searching for any amount of feeling. You looked down at your legs, trying to hold back the sea of tears threatening to escape your already watery eyes. Suddenly, your face was pushed upwards. Ada's hand on your chin, she pulled you to meet her lips. You immediately melted into Ada's gentle touch, her free hand moving to the back of your head. The kiss was soft, almost shy, both of you unsure about what you were doing. Reluctantly you moved your arms to wrap around Adas waist. As the kiss went on for longer you became more comfortable, your kiss turning into something more passionate and desperate. Adas tongue gliding across your lips, requesting entrance, to which you obliged. As Ada explored you mouth, you explored her body, your hands running wild as they roamed Ada’s form.

As things started to heat up even more, Ada carefully laid you back, being careful not to agitate any of your wounds, not that you cared anymore, you had better things to focus on. The two of you broke apart, gasping for air. Ada looked at you in a way you couldn’t get enough of. “Please… don’t stop.” Your words coming out barely loud enough to be audible. Ada didn’t need to say anything, right now actions speak louder than words. She moved her head to your neck, gently kissing you. Ada took her time there, figuring out what move made what sound. While her mouth was occupied she made quick work of your pants. Moving her hand to your clit. Soft fingers finding the perfect rythme to elicit beautiful noises from you. You felt like you were dreaming. The pain from your wounds completely overshadowed by the feeling of pleasure building in your core from Ada’s fingers. You couldn’t contain yourself, soft whimpers escaping your mouth as Ada slowly worked you to your high.

She then moved her mouth down, making sure to flutter kisses wherever she moved. With one hand she unclasped your bra, moving it out of the way so she could have access to your breasts. Her mouth found its place around your nipple, the feeling almost too much for you. You could feel the knot in your stomach starting to tighten. Ada was like a drug you couldn’t get enough of. Her fingers picked up the pace, rubbing your clit at a speed that had you losing your mind. Before you knew it, you were climaxing. Whines and moans escaping your lips. Ada worked you through it so well, telling you how good you were doing, keeping the same pace, making sure you felt cared for. You sunk even more into the couch, body going limp after your high. You looked at Ada through half lidded eyes, you couldn’t describe what you were feeling, it was all too much.

To be with the woman you have spent the last four years thinking about every single second of every single day? It was so bittersweet. Noise erupted from Adas radio, both of your heads turning to the sound. In that moment you remembered that this was temporary. “Ada..” Her eyes softened the moment you spoke. “You’re going to leave me aren’t you..” You couldn’t hide the pain in your voice. This amazing moment all coming to a painful end at your realisation that no matter how much you beg her to stay.. she can’t. Ada looked away, trying to compose herself. “I have to.” She got off of you, pulling herself up and cleaning off her dress. You sat up too, the pain from your injuries back in full force. Ada grabbed your discarded clothing, moving behind you again so she could clip your bra back into place and help you put your shirt back on. Ada reached out her hand, to which you grabbed and she helped you up.

You were both now standing facing each other, sullen eyes not daring to break contact, your hands stills clasped together. The radio sprung to life once more, requesting Ada go somewhere, somewhere away from you. Ada sighed, breaking eye contact and releasing her hand from your hold. She picked up her gloves, slipping them back on and turning her back to you. Ada turned her head back to look at you once more, before speaking. “Don’t let this be the last time you ever see me.” The same subtle smile showing up on her face before she turned and walked out the door. Your face contorted into a pained expression. “I won’t Ada. I promise.”

[annoyinglandmagazine]

First Time Reading Girl Genius Novels 2

I am not surprised Agatha thought Lilith’s reaction to being told her lack of uniformity made her like Judy so it was fine was a bit odd. That is a weird interaction for her on so many levels.

Agatha’s gradual realisation as a child of the way the world around her discriminates against people like her parents gives me emotions.

She has a much more vivid memory of Barry than I expected, ‘seemed worried about things he couldn’t talk about’ is spot on and also heartbreaking

Agatha’s joy at having a home and stability for the first time is a lovely thing to add, she misses Barry of course but it’s interesting that they clarified he wasn’t in a good place or position to be raising a child

The late night argument and Barry’s collapsing mental health and possible death told through three increasingly rambling letters also giving me many emotions

The Heterodynes as an almost religious presence, an ideal people aspire to, like, ‘we should live our lives as if they will return’ is such a spiritual way to put it which I kind of love worldbuilding wise.

Jägers and Boris having an intense rivalry is one of my favourite running jokes and the backstory of Klaus enforcing a time limit on their fights before he has to mediate really reminds me of the ‘it’s like running a kindergarten’ line.

An opportunistic doughnut seller seeing the Baron engaged in a total and hostile take over of his town with his heir, second in command and soldiers and deciding they might not have had time to grab breakfast is exactly the kind of batshit insanity I expect from this setting.

Gil and Klaus just running madly through the streets, dodging crates and jumping on to walls in sync while keeping up a conversation like this is just about Tuesday (which it is for them) must be a pretty weird sight even for bystanders in girl genius

The older jäger grinning at Adam is a nice bit of foreshadowing

Just generally loving the fact that the jägers saying weird shit and arguing over things that make no sense is so normalised that it allows them to get away with hiding basically anything even if most of them have no idea what subtlety is

Gil and Klaus taking a moment to discuss how best to cover the undressed girl in front of them before proceeding further is kind of hilarious to me

Also every iteration of this exchange ‘You don’t find the fact that the girl is running about in a machine shop in her underwear to be unusual? Red fire, boy, what sort of lab did you maintain in school?’ Plus Gil’s blushing and ‘Father! please!’ is comedic gold.

The jägers finding loopholes to secretly give Klaus a guard when he’s in one of his moods (which are apparently a known and regular thing) where he wants to do everything by himself just because, is both wholesome and funny

The tavern song. Oh my god.

I need more information about how Agatha wandering around in her underwear makes Sleipnir assume she’s English.

Interesting that she’s calling her the Von Pinn. I never noticed that happening in the comic.

Descriptions of the school are nice to have, especially the bulletin boards covered in drawings, letters and so on, really makes it feel like an actual primary school.

Extremely rare Klaus feminist moment on the trousers front, though it’s definitely more about practicality than anything else

Agatha was shocked at Sleipnir referring to Wooster as a codfish, Girl Genius characters’ weird idea of what counts as swearing is so much fun

Children cycling around the airship delivering messages is a nice touch as are all the other details about Castle Wulfenbach, it really drives home the whole nerve centre and capital city of the empire thing

Saying you refer to your boyfriend as Herr Nice to justify not recognising his name is certainly one approach

Mowgli. Agatha you are fooling nobody here

Them ripping a machine apart while they’re plummeting to the ground and grinning maniacally should not be as adorable as it is

Khrizan gently cradling Agatha, calling her sweetheart and checking that she’s alright should have been a clue to someone that there as something special about her

Morbid children’s songs my beloved

Theo’s little interactive bit where he chases the children around during the story is so absurdly endearing.

“He nodded to the girls as he passed ‘RHaah,’ he said conversationally.” Did I mention I love Theo?

PRT is a genius bit of worldbuilding and I love it. That whole section is amazing especially the fact that personality shifts going more insane is only a tricky hypothetical on a test paper because Sparks are already like that to start with

I love that the tables are designed to be constantly replaced because they let the kids try out their new gadgets at mealtimes for serving the food.

They all bring different dishes from wherever they’re from which is also nice

The school is a lot bigger than I thought if they’re implying what we see is only a tenth of its normal capacity.

Klaus insisting that they go and oversee or assist in the harvests themselves to try and curb the culture of elitism is great and the way the kids actually look forward to it as opposed to their parents who hate it shows its actually working

The fact that Lucifer Mongfish’s conflicts with the Heterodynes are considered the cause of Bill’s marriage to Lucrezia rather than an obstacle tells you a lot

The logistics of family gatherings where every family member wants to and has tried to kill each other

Agatha comparing an argument between two twelve year olds to one between two teachers at her university is very in character with sparks

The Large Dangerous Mechanical Lab being the real name is kind of funny

[crystallizedday]

Mkay, so I just woke up & I feel like spitting some facts today while I’m still in my BATDR hyperfix, especially since I’m pretty sure not a lot of people have this idea as well & I wanna get it out there somehow.

So…

The Ink Demon is like… written SO fucking well in this game, or at least as I interpret it.

& I figured this shit out like GRADUALLY.

The first tid bit that hit me like a fucking truck was how CANONICALLY the Ink Demon is in DESPERATE need of any kind of love and affection. While it’s hinted at a little bit in the games, the smoking gun comes from the VOICE ACTOR FOR INKY HIMSELF Sean Crisden.

Yes, I looked through his entire Twitter to find this again just to prove I’m not insane.

Like… even if Sean isn’t caught up entirely on the lore, there’s no reason he would say this only knowing the Ink Demon through his lines. After all, my guy has to be told about the character to voice him, so for him to address this pretty much makes it as close to being confirmed officially as we can.

The second thing that hit me like a truck was the YouTuber Pastra’s review video on the game, where he details how the Ink Demon’s mocking in the last chapter is towards HIMSELF, not Audrey, & he’s just projecting all HIS shit onto her.

Not even I caught this, since I always thought Inky was right about the “your life is a lie” thing due to her not being fully human.

But then Pastra emphasized the “mistake” bit. Audrey wasn’t a mistake, far from it. The Ink Demon, BENDY, was. HE was a mistake, born solely to be a living mascot to entertain, & when he came out WRONG, he was locked away, neglected, abandoned by the man who created him.

So he looks at Audrey, someone who was made by the same man who made him, someone who was treated so much better because of how she came out “perfect”, & tries to bring her down on the same level as he is by berating her.

& while this is stretching a bit, him comforting her at the end feels a bit like he’s trying to comfort himself, tricking himself to believe there is SOMEONE like him, someone who was ABANDONED & lied to, & thus giving Audrey the opportunity to live so he can indulge in that comfort.

It’s a BIG stretch, but god DAMN is it a gut puncher!

Like I’m sure he also did it to manipulate her & shit, but like… he can have MORE than one reason to do shit, & if he really did try to comfort himself like that, if that really is true… then I’m gonna fucking sob, man.

BUT THAT IS NOT FUCKING ALL!!

Cause I got ONE MORE mind blower I had, mainly (but not entirely) on my own after that one!!

& it has to do with Baby Bendy.

A LOT of people think Inky got his mind split in two when he was imprisoned as Baby Bendy due to how different he acts around Audrey.

But I beg to differ.

I think the Ink Demon is ABSOLUTELY still conscious & in control as Baby Bendy. He just couldn’t do shit to anyone before Audrey came about & accidentally freed him (cause I am ALSO subscribed to that theory Pastra addressed in his video), so he just minded his own business.

Perhaps his new emotional responses spoken of in the Keepers’ tapes come from him being more powerless & vulnerable where the only thing he COULD do was cry.

& the reason he acts so friendly towards Audrey once she meets up with him near the city? Because she was kind to him, she actually gave a shit about him. She apologized to him about hurting him & wanted to take care of him.

NEVER in Inky’s life has he EVER had someone genuinely care about him & his well being, something he always wanted from ANYONE but never got. So when he finally has that opportunity with Audrey, he jumps to it, going along with it, even if he desperately didn’t want to visit the Gent labs again.

More evidence of this is detailed in a post by @jupiter-jellies titled “Ink Demon VS Vesty” which I really like (I apologize for the tag, I don’t know if there’s an easier option to showcase the post itself, but I still wanna credit you nonetheless) as it makes sense of the sequences of events that happen from when Baby Bendy first joins your party to when he disappears & the Ink Demon comes to stop you from entering the Keepers’ area. Seriously, that shit blew my mind when I read it cause it explains WHY Baby Bendy went missing & why the Ink Demon would try to stop Audrey from going THERE in particular.

It just makes sense that the Ink Demon was still HIMSELF in both forms, he just acts differently to compensate for his lack of powers & to be given the love & affection he always wanted.

… But then it gets sad.

Cause the more I thought about it, the more fucked up it became. The ONLY time the Ink Demon EVER got someone to reach out to him & make him feel cared for… is when he’s in a “perfect” form. Only when he was cute & innocent & TRAPPED against his WILL could he be EVER loved, that if only he came out RIGHT in the first place, then he would DESERVE all the love that Audrey offers him.

If Joey & the others neglecting & abusing him when he came out wrong when he was JUST created didn’t solidify this idea in his head, Audrey treating him like a friend in his “perfect” form & an enemy in his true form DEFINITELY sealed the deal to him.

& it only gets worse.

I was re-listening to Joey talking to Audrey at the tail-end of the game to try & snap her out of the dark mindset Inky put her in when I realized something.

The Ink Demon was RIGHT THERE, listening to his abuser talk directly to AUDREY the ENTIRE TIME, telling her how she was loved & how she’s not this monster, that she was his pride & joy, his ONLY success…

& that PISSES Inky off.

In INKY’s point of view, only after Joey had a creation that WASN’T an abomination did he suddenly have a change of heart, that all it took was to get something he always wanted to be a better person as he completely ignores his biggest mistake that was RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM.

That… has GOT to sting, really bad, to feel abandoned AGAIN in favor of the “better sibling” that Audrey was.

I have a feeling that he didn’t crush Joey SOLELY so he couldn’t get through to Audrey. I think he also did it because he couldn’t take LISTENING to him talk like this anymore, to be reminded that he was a failure that didn’t deserve the love that Audrey got, & lashed out to shut Joey up.

This is ALL very headcanon-y, but… it really does paint the Ink Demon in a more complex & tragic light.

The Ink Demon was NEVER just a mindless monster that killed whatever it wanted on sight. He was capable of emotion, & he could’ve potentially been capable of being something so much more if only he got the proper care & reassurance he DESPERATELY needed.

& GOD I love his character for it, he’s my favorite character in the game BY FAR because of this, GOD I hope this is canon so I can give massive props to the writers for this game!!

[hyperfixationsporfavor]

Buried Alive (Gojo x Geto)

Author's note: Hey lovely readers. This fic is based off of the basement au created by @sadbenedict

Please go checked out their amazing work.

Synopsis: Gojo spares Geto from death, opting for something more infinite.

Warnings: Thoughts of self harm, self harm, unhealthy relationships

“Suguru?” Satoru softly asked.

His ex kept his back turned, staring blankly at the old tv Satoru had found tucked away in storage. The only thing it could play was vhs tapes, mostly old sitcoms. So the silence was occasionally broken by a laugh track. 

“Suguru?” he asked again.

The laugh track played again, no response.

Satoru sighed in defeat. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

He left without saying another word. 

~

Satoru’s life was a little fucked up at the moment. 

And if he stopped to think about it for more than a few seconds he’d probably go insane. 

For starters, Suguru Geto, his ex, had managed to take out an entire village and put a target on his back by the age of seventeen. Then, he disappeared off the face of the planet, only to reemerge with a new purpose, new loved ones. 

It destroyed Satoru. His first heartbreak. 

He had replayed the events over and over again in his head throughout the years. How could he do this? 

Leave him and the people who had loved him the most. Replacing them all. Replacing him. But Satoru could never replace him, and that adoration would destroy them both. 

~

“How old are you?” 

Satoru looked up at the old man behind the counter. He had been coming to the same secondhand store for the last two weeks to get tapes for Suguru, and had managed to catch the shipowner's curiosity. 

“I’m 27,” he answered.

The shop owner furrowed his brow. “Aren’t you a little young to still be buying tapes? Even the old timers don’t bother with this stuff anymore.”

Satoru chuckled and pulled out his wallet. “I guess I just have a hard time letting go.”

~

“Your arm looks good, Geto,” Shoko murmured as she inspected her handiwork.

After the failed christmas eve attack, Satoru had brought him to her office, desperate to heal his broken body. With the aid of reverse cursed technique and the abilities she’d honed in medical school, he was physically perfected. Mentally, that was another story. 

Her former friend looked withered, weighed down under the massive chains Satoru used to hold him down. He was thin from not eating, dark circles under his eyes from not sleeping. 

“Not bad for someone who cheated her way through med school,” he jested. 

“Better than running a ponzi scheme,” she retorted.

“Which I could get back to doing if you broke these chains and let me go,” Suguru suggested.

“Nice try asshole.”

“It was worth a shot.”

Shoko packed up her medical bag, snapping it shut with more gusto than necessary. 

“How long are you going to ice him out?” she asked.

“For however long I’m stuck in this shit hole,” he mumbled.

She sighed, pulling her cigarettes out of her lab coat pocket. 

“I’d offer you a lighter but I’m a little indisposed at the moment.”

Shoko ignored the quip, fishing a cigarette out of the carton and placing it between her lips, then retrieving her own lighter she always carried on her. 

“That’s alright,” she muttered, her pursed lips balancing the cigarette. “I stopped depending on you a long time ago.”

She left him to ponder that sentiment, it hurt more than he would have liked to admit. 

~

2007

It was scorching outside.

So to alleviate the discomfort from the heat Suguru closed the windows and put his fan on the highest level it could go. 

Satoru later joined him. 

The two of them laid on the floor and stared up at the ceiling while a Weezer cd played. Satoru had ‘borrowed’ it from Ichiji.

“I’ll put it back in his room later,” Satoru lazily assured him.

On an island in the sun

We'll be playing and having fun

And it makes me feel so fine

I can't control my brain

Suguru turned his head to face Satoru, he looked so peaceful at that moment.

It made Suguru feel assured, his feet were firmly on the ground, right here, in this moment, the world was still. 

Satoru smiled. “I know.”

So Suguru closed his eyes, being lulled to sleep from a mixture of heat and music.

But it didn’t matter. 

He was safe here. 

We'll run away together

We'll spend some time forever

We'll never feel bad anymore

“Suguru?”

~

“Suguru?”

Suguru slowly opened his eyes. 

He must have dozed off after Shoko left. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he had a dream that wasn’t a nightmare. But why have one when he was living in some twisted reality that was more eerie than anything his mind could conjure. 

Satoru set some bags down on the ground and approached him.

“I got some more tapes, books, cassettes, and a few things for dinner.”

Suguru just blankly stared at him, although he found the dream he had just had softened his heart a touch with nostalgia, much to his dismay. Still, he wouldn’t give his captor the satisfaction of being vulnerable with him. 

~

Satoru had bought an assortment of convenience store food, takeout, and a box of Kikufuku from that bakery he was always raging about whenever he went to Sendai on business. Suguru should have been grateful but the glutinous setup made him nauseous. It felt orchestrated to create a well balanced facade. Something that Satoru was determined to perform. 

While he set everything up he told him about what was going on in the world beyond his cell. 

“Yuta’s away with Miguel for the time being. And Megumi seems to be doing well so far.”

He pressed a Kikufuku against Suguru’s mouth, but he kept his jaw wired shut, refusing the gift.

So Satoru set it back down on the plate with the other food that remained untouched. 

“Shoko told me you were in excellent health but you’re still underweight.”

The white haired sorcerer took the box and popped a sweet into his mouth, then another.

“I checked up on the twins while I was out,” he said in between chews. 

Suguru’s throat tightened up, but he remained silent. 

Satoru pulled another sweet out of the box, examining it in the dim light of the cell. 

“These are so good. Are you sure you don’t want one?”

Suguru just glared at him.

Satoru sighed and dropped the uneaten sweet back into the box. 

“I should get going. Megumi’s home alone and-”

“You are unbelievable,” Suguru muttered. 

Satoru tilted his head. “What?”

Suguru scoffed. “You brought up Mimiko and Nanako on purpose. So if you're going to deliver some half baked threat at least have the decency to say it to my face. 

Satoru smiled, a fake one that made him look manic. “Don’t worry. If I wanted those things gone I would have taken care of them a long time ago.”

Suguru clenched his jaw. “If you hurt them-”

“You’ll what?” Satoru simply asked. “What will you do?”

Suguru felt his heart drop. All of a sudden things had become alarmingly more clear. Satoru was gone. And in his place was a monster.

He was the strongest. And everyone else was destined to follow him.

Satoru picked up the uneaten kikufuku and held it towards Suguru.

“Now, are you hungry?”

~

The kikufuku had left a bitter taste in Suguru’s mouth, worse than any curse he had been forced to swallow. 

After Satoru had left he found the taste growing stronger and stronger. 

He wanted to shove his fingers down his throat and throw it all up but he couldn’t with these damn chains around his hands, his feet, his neck. So he grew agitated, agitation morphed into anger, until it reached blinding rage. 

The television played some mind numbing sitcom behind him. About some fake perfect family living their fake perfect life. Someone said an unfunny joke and the laugh track dutifully followed. 

It set him off, so he lunged himself towards the television and slammed his fist through the screen. 

Finally, the laughter stopped, but only momentarily, as it started bubbling out of his lips. 

Suguru pulled his fist out of the broken screen and examined his bloodied hand. And he laughed harder. 

He laughed until he cried. 

Then screamed. 

Then cried again, sinking to the ground. 

No one could hear him in the windowless room below ground. He was buried alive, and no matter how loud he screamed, or cried, or laughed, no one heard. No one except the strongest, Satoru Gojo, his first love, who had kept him here in purgatory. 

He was nowhere. 

And here he would stay. 

~

The End. 

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Thanks (m, cold)

Hi guys, thank you again for voting on which scenario you wanted to see for this fic! It's a bit of a slow burn, and idk how I feel about the ending, but Elijah is staunchly miserable by the end so hopefully that makes y'all happy 😅 let me know if you like it 🫶

Ps I've been writing this for literally the past 12 hours so I cannot look at it anymore, I'll read it over and edit errors in the morning but I need to get it out before it drives me insane lmao. 5.5k words under the cut :)

CW: male snz, colds, coughing, fever, contagion

There was nothing quite as depressing, Elijah decided, as the days leading up to Thanksgiving dinner service in a restaurant. Well, unless you were Greyson.

“Goooood morning, boss! Two days til the Big Day; are you pumped?”

Elijah turned his chair slowly towards the door, where the chef stood grinning unironically. He thought, not for the first time, that Greyson was likely some sort of dog in a past life – a golden retriever, or possibly a lab. One of those ‘no thoughts, just vibes’ dogs.

“Am I pumped?” Elijah asked, glaring at Greyson. “For a day that should be spent drinking shitty beer and eating my weight in carbs spent instead putting on a fake smile for people who don’t even think of us as human? For people who go out to eat literally once a year, and make sure they do it on a holiday so they can feel powerful by forcing a restaurant to serve them, then complain about the price and stiff my servers? Am I pumped to barely break even, even though the restaurant will be packed from ten am until close, because those same people staunchly refuse to pay more than eighty bucks a head to stuff themselves silly? Am I pumped to listen to my staff complain all day, despite the fact that when each of them was hired, they were told in no uncertain terms that they would be working holidays?” Elijah clicked his pen closed loudly, stood to let Greyson through, and sat with him in tandem, his face set in anger the whole time. “No, Grey. I am not, in fact, pumped.”

Greyson broke their eye contact to wake his computer, the lecture obviously unexpected. “Clearly I should’ve read the room before opening my mouth,” he said, glancing back over at his boss briefly. “My bad, boss.”

Elijah, embarrassed that he’d let himself sink into such a state about something as stupid as a holiday service, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Fuck. Sorry, Grey. You just caught me at a bad moment. I had two servers call out for today, I’m fuckin’ sweating because we really need everyone here for Thursday and neither of them are sure they’ll be good to come back in two days.”

“Hmm,” Greyson hummed, his eyebrows threading together. “That’s weird. I had Victor and Elise call out on my way in.”

Elijah felt his heart thump in his temple. “Did they say why?”

“I didn’t ask,” Greyson said, turning his chair to face his boss. “But I guess I should’ve. Did the servers say why they couldn’t come in?”

“Some sort of fever-cold thing, is what Jason said he had. Ashley just said she felt like shit.” Elijah pressed his fingers into his eye and sighed. “I need a cigarette. Care to join?”

Greyson, never one to turn down nicotine in any form, stood from his chair. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said.

The two of them walked through the empty kitchen in silence, Elijah entirely too wrapped in his own thoughts to continue their conversation. There was an ongoing joke, a trope, at this point, about holidays in the restaurant; everyone was always sick for them. Last Easter, the servers all had bronchitis, and a couple of Valentine’s days ago, Greyson had so many cooks call out with the stomach flu that they’d had to hire last-minute temps to fill in on the line. Despite doing nearly 300 covers, they barely made enough to cover the immense labor that seven temps on a holiday cost.

“Lij,” Greyson said as the two of them stepped out the back door and sat on the milk crates littering the loading dock, “it’s not going to be like Valentine’s. I can see your fuckin’ gears turning.” The chef pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, handed his boss one, and lit them both up. “Relax.”

Silence, once again, fell upon them as they smoked and watched fat snowflakes disintegrate on the asphalt. Elijah hoped that Greyson was right, that everything would be fine and he was overreacting – but he knew better than to hope. More likely than not, it was going to be what it always was on holidays: a shit show.

Matt and Mark, hand-in-hand until they spotted their bosses by the door, turned the corner and waved to their counterparts in tandem like well-trained circus animals. Elijah couldn’t help but smile as their fingers unwove from one another.

“Morning,” Elijah called, stubbing out his cigarette. Greyson did the same, and the two of them stood to let the younger men into the building.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Mark asked rubbing his hands together as he pushed the door open. Elijah shrugged as he held the door open for the other two and walked in behind them.

“My rage keeps me warm,” he said, prompting a laugh from Greyson and an eye roll from the younger men. “How’re you guys?”

Mark shot a look at Matt as they all walked towards the office at the front of the kitchen. “I’m well,” he said, pointedly. Elijah nearly stopped in his tracks when he glimpsed Matt glaring at his boyfriend.

“Matt…?” Greyson asked, an attempt at giving his sous chef a get-out-of-jail-free card. There was silence as the three of them turned, expectantly, towards Matt.

“I’mb good,” the sous said, his voice cracking on the second syllable. Elijah audibly groaned, Mark winced, and Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity.

“Well, you certainly sound great,” Greyson said, palming Matt’s shoulder aggressively. “Would you like to go home and sleep that off?”

“Yes, he -”

“Ndo,” Matt said, cutting Mark off and shooting him a look. “I wandt to help prep.I’mb – hh! hh’NGTSH-uh!” Matt turned and pulled his coat up over the bottom half of his face to sneeze, then quickly gathered himself and stood up straight. “I’mb fine,” he said, convincing no one.

Elijah closed his eyes briefly and sighed through his nose; fortunately or unfortunately, he knew exactly why Matt hadn’t called off.

The week prior, Elijah and Greyson had dolled out raises and bonuses for the staff; this year was Matt’s fifth as sous chef. Greyson had basically written a dissertation of why his sous chef should be given a new title – Executive Sous – along with a significant raise and bonus. It hadn’t taken much convincing; Elijah knew exactly how hard Matt worked, and staying at the same restaurant as a sous chef for five years was nearly unheard of in this city, especially for someone as young as Matt. He and Greyson had agreed that Matt’s loyalty to the restaurant deserved to be compensated, and had surprised him before his day off with the new title and pay.

Matt had been surprised – shocked was probably a better word for it, honestly – and had confided in Elijah after Greyson had dipped early to meet up with a date that he felt like he didn’t deserve the raise.

“You do,” Elijah had said, laughing lightly. “We wouldn’t have given it to you if you didn’t deserve it.”

The younger man had shaken his head. “I just… I mean, Greyson is here way more than me. I get two days off mostly, and he doesn’t let me work longer than ten hours. And I love it here, you guys don’t need to, like, worry about me leaving if that’s what this is about.”

Elijah had given Matt a confused look. “Greyson should be here more than you, first of all he’s a partner, not just the chef, and secondly, he gets paid very well to be here eighty hours a week. That’s his choosing. You’re his employee – if you were here as much as he was and getting paid significantly less, that wouldn’t be fair. And we’re glad you love it here, but that’s not why we gave you the raise. We gave it to you because you’re a hard worker, and you deserve to be compensated for what you do.” Elijah had smiled at Matt, patted his knee, and finished with, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Matt had just smiled back and nodded, but Elijah knew he hadn’t changed his mind about ‘being undeserving’. Elijah knew, via background checks that were performed by his off-site HR company, and via Mark being a blabbermouth the second he got a glass of wine in him, that Matt had been a bit of a troubled kid; he’d been bounced from one foster home to another as a kid, and then one juvenile detention hall to another as a teenager. Only when he’d dropped out of high school and gotten a job as a dishwasher at a Denny’s did he finally decide it was time to shape up. He’d worked his way into the diner’s kitchen, then a slightly nicer kitchen, and when he was 20, he’d shown up at the front door of Elliot’s in an ill-fitting suit with a speech about how he was ready to work somewhere that he could hone his passion, even if they couldn’t pay him a dime. Greyson had hired him on the spot, not even consulting Elijah, despite only having been the executive chef for a few months.

Elijah knew Matt felt that he owed Greyson, not the other way around, and this promotion and raise was the nail in that coffin of doubt. He knew there was no way Matt would go home, no matter how shitty he felt.

Greyson just shrugged at his sous chef’s denial of being sick. “If you want to stay, I’m not going to make you leave,” he said, walking into the office and changing from his sweatshirt into his chef’s coat. “Just don’t sneeze on the food.”

Matt rolled his eyes and stripped off his jacket to put his own chef’s coat on. “Yes, Chef,” he said, coughing into his elbow. Mark and Elijah exchanged sidelong looks.

“Are you feeling okay?” Elijah asked his junior manager. Mark smirked, hiked his laptop bag further onto his shoulder, and started towards the dining room – his makeshift office.

“Never better, boss,” he said, pushing through the swinging doors. “Never better.”

***

“So, is he coming in tomorrow?”

Greyson lolled his head to the side, hands still on his keyboard, and deadpanned Elijah. “The fuck do you think?”

Elijah pulled a hand down his face and nodded. “Yeah, okay, just wanted to check.”

While Matt had been relatively fine the first few hours of the shift, by the time the last guests had eaten, the sous had been so staunchly miserable that Greyson had marched his ass into the office, thrown his jacket over his shoulders, and pointed towards the back door. “Go. Home. Now.”

“Chef, I – HTSHH! Hh-! GTSH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side, collapsing into a post-sneeze coughing fit that made the cooks flinch from five yards away.

“You’re not fine,” Greyson insisted. “You’re sick, and you’re going to get everyone else sick.”

Matt nodded, miserable, and hung his head. “Sorry, Chef,” he muttered, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Go,” Greyson said. “And come back when you’re well.”

Mark had taken Matt home in an Uber, and the cooks and servers had been able to leave relatively early, which left Elijah, Greyson, and a bottle of whiskey between them on the desk to figure out how they were going to handle the rest of the week.

Greyson sighed and reached for the bottle as he pushed away from his computer screen. He took a long pull and handed the bottle to Elijah, who followed suit. “I just… I don’t understand why he’d come in that sick,” Greyson said, pulling his hair to the top of his head and securing it with a rubber band from their drawer of office supplies. Elijah had to pull the bottle away from his lips to laugh. “What?” Greyson asked.

“You, of all people, can’t understand why he came in sick?” Elijah asked, incredulous. “You?”

“What do you mean me?” Greyson asked, snatching the bottle back. “If anything, he learned it from watching you.”

“Oh, spare me, Greyson,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “For awhile there, you literally came in sick three weeks a month.”

Greyson scoffed. “At least I’ve never passed out on the kitchen floor.”

“Yes, you have.”

“No, I almost passed out. You actually fuckin’ swooned. Collapsed in a puddle. Full damsel in distress.” Greyson took another pull and placed the bottle back on the desk. “So don’t come for me unless I send for you.”

Elijah guffawed at this. “Who taught you that saying?” he asked. Greyson shrugged.

“I heard one of the servers using it. I like it.”

“The servers are twenty years old, you dinosaur. The last thing they want is Grandpa Greyson using their jargon.”

“Fuck off, if anyone here is a grandpa it’s…” Greyson stopped suddenly, held up a finger, let his eyes flutter shut, then let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, that’s annoying.” He rubbed his nose on the back of his hand, then raised an eyebrow at his boss, whose face had drawn into concern. “What?”

“What was that?” Elijah asked, glancing over at the bottle of whiskey they’d spent the past hour sharing.

“I just thought I was going to – oh,” Greyson’s eyes widened. “No, dude, relax, I’m totally fine. I feel great.”

“‘Buzzed’ and ‘great’ are two different things, Grey,” Elijah said. He reached up to feel Greyson’s forehead, prompting the chef to lean back in his chair.

“Great as in healthy,” he insisted, shooing Elijah’s hand away. “Seriously, I’d let you know if I – HRRTSHHH-ue!” He caught the sneeze in his elbow – barely – and choked back an irritated cough. From the crook of his arm, he heard Elijah swear.

“I’m going to end your fuckin’ life, I swear to God,” Elijah muttered, pushing the bottle further onto Greyson’s side of the desk. “You let me drink from the same bottle as you, you dick.”

“I’m fine, Elijah, Christ it was one sneee – hh! - hh…” Greyson tipped his head back in anticipation, then lowered and shook it when the feeling once again dissipated. “See? Totally fine.” He sniffled – convincing, Grey – and immediately changed course. “Plus, it’s alcohol. It’s an antiseptic.”

“It one million percent is not,” Elijah said, rubbing his temples in defeat. “Greyson, you cannot be sick. We cannot be sick. How the hell are we going to be able to run Thanksgiving?”

“Elijah,” Greyson said, “listen. I am fine. Everything is going to be just fi – ITSHH-ue!” Greyson pitched forward into his palm and cringed. Elijah, begrudgingly, slammed the box of tissues they kept on a side table in front of the chef.

“Bless you,” he said while Greyson cleaned himself up. “And, I mean this from the bottom of my heart: fuck. You.”

***

“Hhh-! Huh… hnnn.”

“Bless you.”

“Oh, screw you, Lij,” Greyson muttered for the millionth time that day. He grabbed what felt like his hundredth tissue and blew his nose – only for the feeling to reignite. “Huhhh! Hhh...hh… guhh.” Greyson rubbed his nose again and angrily spiked the tissue into the trash can beneath his prep station.

“Bless you,” Elijah said again, mocking.

“You kndow,” Greyson said, turning towards his boss, who was seated in the office, not looking Greyson’s way. “Karma is going to combe for you for being an asshole to mbe.”

At this, Elijah glanced towards Greyson. “Karma? No, karma is having a cold and not being able to sneeze because you let your friend drink out of the same bottle as you when you knew you were getting sick. That’s karma, and you got what was coming to you.”

“Fuuhhh! Huh! Hh...fuck,” Greyson grumbled, coughing into his shoulder.

“Karma is also giving your sous chef a lecture about being sick at work, only to be get sick and have to come into work because you’re technically the most well of all the sick cooks and chefs.”

“Are you finished?” Greyson asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I get it. And to be fair, I did ndot kndow I was getting sick.” The chef sucked in painfully through his nose and collapsed into coughs once again.

“Mmhmm,” Elijah mumbled. When it seemed like Greyson wasn’t going to be able to stop the coughing, he took pity and got up to make the chef tea.

“Here,” Elijah said, slamming a paper cup in front of Greyson. “Drink it. Sickie.”

Greyson, unable to come up with a proper comeback, just did as he was told. “How mbany on the books tonight?” he croaked. Elijah sighed, pulled up his phone, and slid it towards Greyson. “Fuck,” Greyson said when he saw the number.

“All the people in the city who aren’t coming in tomorrow decided tonight was the night, apparently,” Elijah said, taking his phone back and putting it in his pocket. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, in earnest.

Greyson nodded. “It’s ndot too bad,” he said, taking another sip of tea. “Just wish I could fuckigg sndeeze.”

Elijah huffed out a laugh. “You’re sure you don’t want to call Matt in?”

“Definitely no – hh! Huh...hhhITSHHHZUE! Oh thank fuckigg God – HUHHESTCH-ue! Hh! Hnn...HuhhhETSCHH-ue! HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah whistled, long and low, and pushed the box of tissues towards Greyson. “Wow,” he said. “Bless.”

Greyson rolled his eyes as he took a handful of tissues and cleaned himself up. “See?” he said once he’d thrown them away and washed his hands, “Good as new. HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah chuckled. “Sure, Chef,” he said, moving towards the doors to the dining room. “Whatever you say.”

***

In his thirty-nine years on earth, Elijah had learned a lot about himself. He’d learned that he was a hothead, and he had to really think about the repercussions of what was going to come out of his mouth if he wanted to keep the person he was talking to in his life. He’d learned that he was incapable of whistling, juggling, or any other party trick – but he could pull out a fantastic rendition of Queen’s Somebody to Love during karaoke, and that was enough to make him seem like he was fun at parties. He’d learned that he loved to have his own space, and should he ever find a partner, he knew they’d have to have separate bedrooms. And he had learned exactly what it felt like when he was getting sick.

Like… really sick.

When Greyson said things like, “I didn’t know I was getting sick,” it truly did not register to Elijah. Maybe it was because Greyson’s illnesses always seemed to be some sort of mixed bag – starting differently every time, with symptoms that varied wildly – or maybe it was because he just didn’t tune in to how he was feeling. Greyson always said he basically tried to ignore his body until it forced him to pay attention; maybe that was something that Elijah needed to attempt. Because Elijah… Elijah knew exactly when and how badly he was getting sick every single time.

It had started that afternoon, mere hours after he’d given Greyson shit about exposing him to this illness, the way it always did – with the type of sore throat that made you feel weak in your knees. Elijah had swallowed, then immediately felt dizzy with the pain that surged in his throat. Oh, he thought, touching his neck. Oh, no.

He was, of course, a creature of habit and attempted all his usual ways to quell the pain – cups of tea hidden in paper sleeves, lozenges he hoped Greyson was too stuffed up to smell on his breath, handfuls of ibuprofen – to no avail. By the time dinner service came around he could hear the rasp in his voice and, despite the ibuprofen, could feel the ache in his joints that meant he’d already made it to stage two; fever.

This was how he knew he was going to be down badly. If he could ride the sore throat past the fever and straight into congestion, he might be able to get away with just a normal cold. But if that fever set in before any other symptoms, it was all over.

“Yo,” Greyson said, approaching his boss post pre-shift. “Cand we quickly talk about the semantics of tomborrow’s buffet before people get here?”

Elijah lifted his heavy head from his pre-shift notes and blinked in Greyson’s direction. “Okay,” he said, brilliantly. Greyson’s eyebrows knit together, concerned.

“You good?” he asked, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. Elijah nodded slowly – surely, if Greyson was able to push through this illness with such ease, he was just being a baby about it. He swallowed through the knives in his throat and nodded.

“Just a headache,” he said. “What do you want to talk through?”

“Just wanted to see how mbany cooks you think I should have on the buffehh....ETSZHCHH-ue!” Greyson directed a massive sneeze into his elbow, and Elijah’s head about exploded with pain.

“Christ,” Elijah muttered, pressing his palm into his eye. Greyson muffled a cough into his sleeve and shook his head to clear it.

“Fuck, ‘scuse mbe,” he said, looking back at his boss. “Umb. Did I get you or something?”

Something like that, Elijah thought as he shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re just loud, and my head hurts.” He pulled out his phone, looked at the cover spread for the next day, and said, “Three cooks on the buffet. One for omelets, one for prime rib carving, one for dessert bar.” He looked up at Greyson for his confirmation. “What?” he asked.

“You just… look like you’re in pain,” Greyson said, carefully. “Did you take -?”

“Yes, I took ibuprofen,” Elijah cut him off. “Go make sure your guys are ready for tonight. Take a decongestant so they can understand you. I’ll be back there in a minute.”

Greyson pursed his lips, but didn’t argue. “Yes, sir,” he said, and left Elijah to brood.

By some stroke of luck, the third inevitable stage of Elijah’s illness didn’t hit him until after they’d finished service. He was checking the lead server’s station so she could go home, when suddenly it felt like a thousand bees collected in his sinuses.

“Yeah, looks good Riley, thanks, see you in the mo – IGTSHH-uhh! HSTSH-ue! HhhhINTSZH-ue!” Elijah wrenched to the side, the sneezes so sudden he barely had time to cover his mouth.

“Yikes,” Riley said, taking a step away from her boss. “Bless you.”

“Thanks,” Elijah muttered, pinching his nose to quell the itch.

“You pick up whatever has everyone else out this week?” she asked, taking off her apron. Elijah shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Have a good night.”

With all the servers gone, Elijah slunk back into the kitchen and sunk into his office chair, his head in his hands. He was not prepared to do a whole holiday service feeling like this. This was nightmarish, and he’d only felt sick for nine hours. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was going to be -

“Hey, bless you,” Elijah sat up and turned around at the accusation to see Greyson standing at the office door with his arms crossed. “Could’ve heard those from fuckin’ space.”

Elijah rolled his eyes, painfully. “Whatever,” he said, powering his computer up to finish the night’s paperwork. “You’re one to talk, I don’t think you’ve gone three seconds without -”

“HRRSHH-oo!” Greyson cut him off with a comically-timed sneeze directed into the collar of his shirt.

“-that,” Elijah finished.

Greyson grabbed a tissue and wiped his nose. “Yeah, but it’s been well-established that I have a cold. I was under the impression that you were still -”

“HTSHH! HRSHH! Huh-! HuhhESTZHH-ue!” Elijah once again collapsed in on himself, head both buzzing and pounding, the explosive sneezes grating the back of his throat.

“- well,” Greyson finished, and moved into the office to sit by his boss. Just as Elijah looked up from his lap, Greyson slapped a hand on his forehead.

“Enough,” Elijah said, pushing Greyson’s palm off. Greyson put both his palms on his knees and gave Elijah a knowing look.

“So, you’ve been sick all day, or…?”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, clearing his throat, “I’m fine.”

“You have a fever, Lij. Like, a pretty significant one.”

He knew, and he had known, but the words made Elijah’s eyes well and his throat close all the same. God, he hated having a fucking fever and all the stupid, ridiculous emotions that went along with it. Elijah took a breath, closed his eyes to collect himself, and addressed the chef.

“I’m not feeling 100%,” he said. “But I will be fine. You are sick – if I’m not 100%, then you must be at like 10% at this point.”

“I don’t have a fever,” Greyson pointed out, taking Elijah’s hand and placing it on his cool head. “See?”

Elijah bit his cheek to keep from snapping. “Alright,” he said. “Whatever. Still, you need to go home; it’s a big day tomorrow.”

“I will when you do,” Greyson said, shrugging. Elijah, completely spent, and done arguing, just turned off his computer – paperwork be damned for the night.

“Fine,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Let’s call it a night.”

Greyson, clearly confused, just raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Alright boss,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “See you tomorrow.”

***

If there was one thing Greyson knew about Elijah, it was this: if you wanted him to admit defeat, you had to corner him.

When he woke up at oh-dark-thirty that morning, Greyson felt lucky that he was no worse for the wear then he was the night before. Was he stuffed-up to the gills? Yes. Did he have an incessant, grating cough? Yeah. But ultimately, it was a cold, and he’d work through far worse many more times.

So, despite the fact that it was still dark out, Greyson donned his hoodie and set out for the restaurant. On the way to the early-morning subway, he called Matt.

“...Hello?” Matt answered on the third ring. “Chef?”

“Mbornin’ sunshine,” Greyson said, coughing into the receiver. “How’re you feeling?”

“Uh…” Matt said, attempting to gather his bearings. “Better. Am I supposed to be at the restaurant now? I thought I was scheduled at eight.” Greyson heard him push back a blanket and plant his feet on the floor. “You sound like shit, by the way. Sorry about that.”

“Inevitable,” Greyson said, a brush-off. “And you aren’t scheduled til eight, but I have sombe very important, pre-work, Executive Sous shit I ndeed your help with.”

“Sure, boss,” Matt said, and Greyson could hear him changing clothes, using mouthwash, and whispering goodbye to Mark. “Anything you need.”

“Good man,” Greyson said, pausing at the top of the subway steps. “Could you pick up cough drops, Mucinex, and a hot water bottle, if you see one? Oh, and a real blanket. I’ll Venmo you some mboney.”

“Uh, sure, boss. Is this… for you?”

“Not for me,” Greyson said, coughing into his sleeve. “For Elijah. He’s down bad.”

“Oh. Oh, shit,” Matt said. “Yeah, okay, for sure boss. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, mban. Hey, I’mb about to head down to the subway, text mbe if you have any – hh! HTSHH-ue! Fuck, sorry,” Greyson wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Mbaybe grab more tissues while you’re there,” he amended.

“Sure, Chef. Bless.”

“You’re the best, Mbatt. Always knew you’d make a perfect number two.”

Greyson could hear the eye roll through the phone. “Don’t get sappy, old man,” Matt said. “See you soon.”

***

To say Elijah felt like shit would’ve been the understatement of the century.

When he woke up that morning, Elijah was fairly sure he was dying. The fever he’d crawled into bed with hadn’t budged, his sinuses were packed, and he’d officially acquired the final gem on his sick-as-fuck gauntlet: the cough. This day was going to be absolute hell.

Elijah did his level best to get ready for the busy service; he managed to take about half a shower before he had to sit down, dizzy from exertion; he’d gotten one contact in before sneezing so hard he almost poked his eye out and settled on glasses; he’d even found the strength to put on a pair of pants, though a button down was entirely too much for his shaking hands, so he settled on a cardigan that looked passable enough. God he hoped the servers – and Mark – would be able to hold down the fort out front, because this was nothing short of tragic.

Unwilling to deal with the subway and unable to drive safely in this state, Elijah settled on calling an Uber to work. It was early, a little before eight, but he knew if he didn’t get there now, he’d never make it.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” the driver said, leaving Elijah to immediately regret his decision not to drive. “Pretty early to be up and at ‘em. You heading to see family?”

Elijah cleared his throat as best he could before begrudgingly responding to the driver. “Ndot quite,” he said, his voice strained and congested. “Worki – HGSTHH-ue! HRSSH! ETSZCH-uh!” Elijah attempted to hold back the sneezes, unsuccessfully. Sans any tissues, he wiped his nose on his sweater sleeve. “Excuse mbe, sorry.”

“Working and sick on a holiday?” the driver said, shaking his head. “That’s rough, man. Bless you.”

Elijah’s face flamed, but he was in no state to deny. “Yeah,” he said instead. “Thangks.”

The rest of the drive was in blessed silence, and Elijah made sure to tip the guy extra for being exposed to whatever plague he was walking around with. When he finally pushed through the back door of the restaurant, Elijah felt like he’d already lived a lifetime today; he really wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to take.

“Elijah!” Greyson’s voice reached him before Elijah could even see his face. “Happy Thanksgiving, you sick old fuck!”

Elijah turned the corner and almost burst into tears – there stood Greyson, his face pale and nose bright red, and Matt and Mark looking no better, outside of his office; his office that had been, essentially, turned into a cozy-looking bedroom.

There were blankets on the floor, the chairs removed, and medicine on the desk. The harsh office light had been shut off, and instead one of the lamps from the host stand glowed gently from behind the computer. And, perhaps most heart-rendering, in Greyson’s hand was a bowl of steaming soup, and in Matt’s, a cup of tea.

“I know you hate working the holidays, and feeling like shit is just insult to injury,” Greyson said, setting down the bowl so he could guide Elijah into the office. “So we thought we’d mbake it just a little less shitty.”

Elijah allowed himself to be lead in, unable to find the words to thank his friend. He turned into his elbow to cough, a welcome respite from the tears he could feel threatening to spill over. “Grey,” he said when he’d gathered himself. “I… this is so… you guys…” he swallowed around the lump in his throat and shook his head. “I don’t kndow what to say,” he said, looking up at Greyson. “Thangk you.”

“Ah, save it,” Greyson said, placing a hand on his friend’s back. “You’re always looking after us. Call it our Thanksgiving to you.”

Elijah smiled a little, punched Greyson’s arm lightly, and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Heading to see family? the Uber driver had asked him. Maybe he had been, after all.

[sangoqueenkoko]

I don't want realism; I want magic

angst

MAIN MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

.

Previous, Part 1 | Part 2 | Next, Part 3

Synopsis: Being with Dottore for some time is enough to drive some insane. But what about living with him? Thick and thin. Sweet and sour. Love and hatred. Lust and chastity. It all burns passionately. Wrapped around each other's fingers.

Warnings? This is an experimental series. Also contains the mention of inner body parts, blood and gore.

He finally exploded. Combusted.

Shattered.

Finally.

All the built-up anger that led to this moment could finally escape. In an unfortunate way.

And unfortunately, this isn’t an illusion. It’s actually happening. Whatever toxic gas that could be concocted in the Hell that is his Lab hadn’t affected you to the point of changing your reality to the magic most wanted. No.

His breath was heavy—seething, in fact. He looked over his shoulder at you. At this point, he had removed his mask so you could see the anger in his eyes in all its glory. They pierced your soul.

He would turn to you before walking over. It was like he suddenly appeared in front of you, and the fast rhythm of your panicked heart may as well have been the speed at which he was walking. The closer he got, the more of his body heat you could feel and the more anger you could sense.

"Of all pathetic homo-sapiens to be this disruptive and disrespecting to my research, I never would have never expected it to be you", Dottore growled with his hands behind his back, coat nowhere to be seen again. His eyes were full of fire, no reconciliation to be seen nearby; they were alluring to some, deadly to most. Like the so-called innocence of a rosebud, to the prickly points on its stem, dealing harm even if it didn’t want to, no matter how careful. His hair is a little unkempt due to the amount of time he's spent working with no self-care. Which you always cared for even if he didn't. But he didn't seem to care about what you thought at the moment. He didn’t care what anyone thought at this point. But his mask was always perfectly in place. As if he's always trying to conceal something away from everyone he comes across.

But he isn't concealing his anger now. He's let it out.

"I-I'm sorry, Zan-" you would try to muster up an excuse he would take, but you don't know why because he can see through anyone's lies like glass. No one else’s anger made your usually composed and undeviating composure waver unless it was from Dottore.

"Do NOT call me that!" he spat, lunging forward towards you, but he caught himself at the last second and tried to hold himself back. The sudden movement from him made you move back, too; you hated being in the path of his destructive anger; he could do literally anything. But he hated that name. Zandik. It reminded him of his Akademiya days. "Never, EVER speak of that name again! I have heard that name FAR too many times over the years, and I am sick of it! Especially hearing it from you! I loathe it! You make it oh so much worse. And I. AM. FINISHED!"

What happened after that—an argument or conversation, if you even call it that—was awkward but surreal. You had never seen him so angry, especially towards yourself, especially over the measliest of things. Now you know what other people felt when The Doctor was beyond seething.

Poor you.

Pity.

Though you were used to it, it still hit close.

When he was in various moods, you knew it was better to leave him alone and let him cool off, to do whatever cacophonous activities he pleased.

In the meantime, you knew to do your own thing, be it reading, talking, walking to let your thoughts simmer and fester, or practising sparring. No one could ever separate you from your blade.

"Heh," Childe mused with his usual shit-eating grin as he put his bow away, it disappearing beside his waist in a small cloud of golden sparkles before they hurridly faded away, "remember, we've been over this, girlie. Many times. Disputes happen. Adohiro and I have them, even over the pettiest things. And it's no different for you and The Doctor either. Even if... he tends to be a loose canon sometimes," he admitted openly, because you obviously knew that already. But you wouldn't call it 'petty.'

Despite your loose friendship, as in you and Childe, you were both good at fighting. He was always looking for a fight with those who would... 'ask for it,' and you were always up to the opportunity to refine your skills and execute them perfectly. So, if someone came upon you two sparring, they would think it looks like a dance. The way both of your manoeuvres melt together creates something that flows smoother than water: perfect pars, swift flourishing, and endless energy. Flashy.

It was comfortable for both of you. Your sword, slender, dark in colour, like obsidian, yet shiny, with no stains despite your work, would collide with Childe's slick, ocean-blue Riptide blades. From time to time, it would be some friendly jabs and remarks at each other before it would work up the energy and get a little more aggressive, as it would be if you were to actually fight against a foe. More flamboyant.

You could easily tell he was enjoying it, almost like he was showing off. But the word 'petty' stuck in your mind like an adhesive; he may not have meant it to be necessary, but you didn't see it like he did. That drove you to fight for your life, so to speak. And whatever he said next would fall upon your deaf ears.

Let’s just say that no words were spoken for a while.

Nothing but the sounds of quick swoops and clangs as weapons collided. The occasional friendly jabs turned into witty quips shared between the two of you, only before more swoops and clangs would sound out more rapidly with more force. With wits at their ends, it would be a surprise if someone got hurt, right? Right?

No matter. Because how could either of you get hurt? You’re both skilled bladesman. Meaning that no matter the circumstances you shouldn’t get hurt, you should only deal damage to those that don’t matter.

That was also told to you in your line of work. Constantly. This drove you. And it drove you insane. The idea of hurting the seemingly innocent until proven til they perish. They’ve worked alongside the criminally insane without knowing? Kill them. Their family? Kill them; there can’t be any more ‘bad blood’ spared. Knowing that you were once as innocent as the genuinely innocent you have killed haunted you; it was this burden that sat and will forever sit, on your shoulders until your own death. Constantly whispering to you, reminding you every day. Without fail. Like the angels and demons on either side of you. Only that it was only the demon. The angel was still there. But it was long dead. Dead by the hands of your own being. Signifying you are no longer innocent. And haven't been for a long time

You had a quick breather between quick rounds. During this break, you protested because you wanted to keep going, but Childe persisted.

"You've gotten much better than last time, Konchina" He took a deep breath as he put his arm in front of him, stretching it as his other arm held it close to his chest before lightly shaking it, relieving the tension pent up from the sudden blade swings.

"Of course, I've gotten better, Tartaglia", you retorted, mocking his enthusiasm in the way he said your 'name' "I can only get better from here."

He shrugged after a brief silence as he let the air settle between you both. "Okay, whatever you say. Just don't push yourself. I have to keep telling you this; the more you do this, the more you push yourself to your limit, and the more likely you will get hurt and put out of commission, depending on the severity, of course. And you know that Her Majesty can't have any of her followers, especially one of her close subordinates, out of action when work needs to be done. And you know what The Do-"

He would begin to carry on but was immediately cut off by you groaning at the name, throwing your sword down as it bedded itself into the dirt, standing at an angle, "Do not bring him up now. I can't tolerate him now, and I don't think he will be able to tolerate me now after... what happened." You would rather not think about that again.

And, of course, you know what The Doctor will say; it wouldn't be the first time. He keeps you close to his lab until you get better, not until he patches you up while giving you a long lecture. Ugh. You can't stand his lectures. As knowledgeable as he is in the medical field, it doesn't help that when you want peace, he can't keep his mouth shut.

Like last time, the last time you hurt yourself was during another spar session, this time with the Captain himself, Capitano. You got too into it, pent-up emotions up to the brim as you swung your weapon a little too hard and fast and accidentally dislocated your shoulder. As uncomfortable as it was, Capitano advised you to get it fixed, against your wishes, as you still wanted to fight. Thus sending you to the lab that is Dottore's. When you walked in, and he saw the damage, even at a glance, he knew; he sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he didn't have his mask on due to what he was working on; he snapped his fingers, echoing across the room, before pointing at the chair beside his main lab desk.

He pushed your arm back into place with a resounding POP, immediately followed by you sounding in agony despite restraining yourself.

"Tut. You know full well not to throw your body weight in a fight unless it is detrimental. You should know that by now." He would say things like that, only more patronizing; at least, that's what it felt like.

"You know to leave him alone and do whatever he wants," Childe mentioned. I've heard that before, you thought. Many times. "Now. Where were we?" he smirked as he picked his weapon up again.

Reaping up your weapon out of the ground began round two.

Those memories came back and took control. What you've been told many times came back and took control. And it wanted to do some damage. Yet, it would only backfire.

CLANG. CLANG. CRASH. PING.

Was the sounds of your blades. Only the PING was when Childe managed to disarm you and accidentally pierced your right upper quadrant. He dropped his weapons once he noticed.

"(Y/N)! Oh my- I genuinely didn't mean to do that-"

"Childe! I'm fine," you said with a shaky voice, speaking through the adrenaline rush that was now coming to a close, the pain slowly yet quickly overtaking your side.

"Let's get you to the lab- and yes, we are going!" he said quickly before you could even think about protesting, "and I don't care what The Doctor thinks; he has to help."

He will.

He must.

taglist: @jqnehr • @rain-soaked-sun • @mmeatt • @leoisgayforwriting (for Childe) •

please fill out the Google form on the series masterlist if you want to be added! :3

[blushweddinggowns]

Dustin Henderson was not, or would ever be, a cool guy. If anything he was a certified dork, but oh well. He knew that, and he had accepted it. It used to bother him a lot more, being aware that he would never be a part of the popular crowd. He was too weird, his interests too niche. Not to mention his condition. That had been a bitch to deal with, physically and socially.

But the thing was, despite his own uncool factor, he had the coolest older friends. Like, ever. There was Steve, who somehow managed to give him girl advice that worked, despite the fact he’d never been with one. Girl advice that definitely helped him land the best, prettiest, and smartest girlfriend in existence. 

And then there was Eddie, the coolest Dungeon Master to ever exist. Something that Dustin didn’t even feel guilty saying, not when Mike was his biggest fan. He was insanely creative. And he was also in a freaking metal band? And let him and all of his nerd friends come to one of his shows at the Hideout? He was also like, one of the most avid readers that Dustin had ever met, whether that be through fantasy or history books. And he knew like a shit ton about politics, even if it was only to have stuff to back up all of his anti-establishment ideals. He was so freaking smart, maybe not in like, science or math and all of the stuff Dustin was good at, but everything else? Genius, or at least in Dustin’s opinion. Maybe not necessarily his level of genius, but he was still up there. 

Which begged the question, why the hell did a guy like that have to redo his senior year? Especially since Steve had managed to graduate. 

Dustin loved Steve, he did. And in no way did he think that he was dumb. He was just smart in different ways, like having great instincts and kinetic skills. Well… he did do stupid shit but like, in a smart way? Maybe? Dustin wasn’t quite sure how to categorize his favorite weirdo. But one thing was for sure: if Steve could do it, why couldn’t Eddie? 

He doesn’t ask right away. He’d become a little bit more self-aware over the years, and he knew waltzing right up to him and asking, Hey, if you aren’t stupid then why can’t you finish highschool? was not a good idea. But he does wait for an opportunity. Because Dustin is Dustin and works in almost all accelerated classes, he actually managed to share two of them with Eddie. And it’s not until he forces Eddie to be his lab partner in Chemistry when he starts to get it.

It’s not that he’s stupid, he just literally can not pay attention. 

“Dude, come on!” Dustin groaned, head in his hands in front of his open textbook, “How are you not getting this?”

He could fucking hear the ghost voice of Steve in his head, bitching at him for his tone, but this was just to frustrating. And Eddie’s nonchalant attitude wasn’t helping things. 

Eddie shrugged, too busy spinning his keys on his finger instead of actually reading what was in front of him, "Told you you didn't want me as a partner."

Dustin could feel his eye twitch and if Steve wasn’t in the other room, he probably would be yelling in frustration at this point. But the last thing he needed was to end up under Steve’s armpit for a well-deserved noogie. 

“I just don’t get what the problem is!” Dustin groaned, “Like I know you’re not stupid, so why are you acting like it?”

Eddie glared at him, feet propped up on the table, “Rude.”

“Well it’s true!” Dustin hissed, “Seriously dude, what the hell is the problem?”

Eddie sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, “It’s not that I can’t understand. I just… can’t make myself care.”

That was weird. Dustin cocked his head at him, confused, “What does that mean?”

“Like…” Eddie tried, struggling for the words, “It doesn’t grab me? I don’t know, but I can read a paragraph and have none of it stick, no matter how many times I go over it. And you’re right. I’m not stupid, But if I’m not interested it’s like… my brain stops working. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

That… actually made more sense than Dustin had been expecting. He was pretty damn sure he could work with that, “So we just need to find a way to make it interesting to you right?”

Eddie raised a brow at him, “I guess?”

Yeah, he could definitely work with that. He sent Eddie to the other room, to do God knows what with Steve before getting to work. It was kind of a big project to randomly take on during the middle of a Sunday, but he managed. He might not have been as good an artist as Will, but he could at least add a decorative flair to it. 

Three hours later and two check-ins from Steve and he was done. He nearly skipped to the living room, too excited to even roll his eyes at the way both of them were shamelessly tangled on the couch together.

He skidded to a stop in front of them, proudly displaying his newly titled notebook, “Tada! The world’s first Dungeons and Dragons themed study guide!”

Was that a nerdy thing to say? Maybe, but Dustin didn’t care. He was proud of this one.

Eddie sat up, wide-eyed as he plucked it from Dustin’s hands while he explained what was inside, “So I set it up with a guide to translate real world chemicals to potions in the game right? And then the formulas are written here but the problems are all worded like you’re trying to do alchemy in the game. And here….”

He explained the whole thing, his smile growing as Eddie got more and more excited. Steve looked… happy for them? Even if he was slightly judging, just a little bit. But there were some things that jocks would just never understand. 

Besides, it did work. And it worked pretty damn well in Dustin’s opinion. He was the only one that Eddie even let try to tutor him, because he was the only one who actually understood his problem, despite how clearly Eddie was able to put it. 

It definitely made him feel special, because he was special. Eddie even said so, beyond grateful that he found himself able to pay attention to his hard subjects for the first time in… ever. It was the least he could do. Especially since he was dealing with what was probably the only school year in his life to have zero bullies. And he knew it wasn’t because everyone in highschool was magically more mature. He’d walked in on an insane amount of swirlies and heard too many insults hurled at other kids to think otherwise. But luckily enough for him, people just… stayed clear of Eddie. Like he was actually scary or something. And… okay. Maybe he was a little. But only when he was like, insanely angry. Like rabid-dog angry, but that wasn’t an everyday thing. Though that didn’t stop everyone else from avoiding Eddie and most of his friends like the plague. 

But Dustin was lucky enough to fit in a little better, which was good for all of the extracurricular shit he had to do with random people. It helped that he was friends with Lucas, who was bordering on the edge of just being completely normal, the traitor. And getting rides to-and-from school from Steve himself was also a major plus. It wasn’t like the equivalent to having a car, but it was close enough. And a surprising amount of girls were silly enough to think they could have a chance with him. Which was kind of insane, considering how he really never tried. 

Dustin considered the world lucky that Steve turned out to be gay. Otherwise he’d be too powerful. How would anyone else have a chance?

And weirdly enough, the random crushes actually worked in Dustin’s favor. At least when it came to random project partners and tiny club elections, but still. It was nice to have friends that were so cool. Cool enough to make Dustin not feel like a weirdo among his other peers for the first time in his life, while not having to change a single thing about himself. 

It was nice. Really, really nice. So yes, Dustin Henderson was a dork. But now he was a dork with an edge. 

from the latest chapter of this fic

[heliosthegriffin]

Shadow Knight, and the Magical Girls IV

Chapter Four

Jaune was naked he realized. He also didn't know where he was. Only that he had a very thin sheet covering his remaining decency. This was not a first, however.

Waking up in a unknown location that is. He had made a habit of not dying, and that happened to lead him to going around in a fugue of blood-lost a lot times, collapsing, waking up, and getting back to it.

Waking up in somebody's house? That was new. Nobody had brought him home before.

He paused.

Phrasing.

Nobody had taken his unconscious body into they're house, and stripped him naked before.

He paused.

Phrasing.

He was not making this sound better.

Alright, he got it, nobody had stitched him up this good before, he hardly even noticed them, it was nice.

Still, he looked around for his clothes.

And, more importantly, his gear. He couldn't get back out there empty handed, he had tried that before, and it did not work well.

Getting off the table, he wore the sheet like a robe, not that it covered much, in fact, he felt more indecent wearing the sheer material over his body than if he were to walk around naked.

Standing up, he did check up and once over, finding a mirror against the wall, examining his status.

Well, he wasn't going to win Mr. Vale this year, it seems. Or any year, but at least his face was mostly untouched, other than a couple bruises from the explosion.

Explosion? Oh, yeah. That did happen, wow, that was crazy. How did that happen, was it a gas leak or...

Those Girls, with they're powers? Those Magical Girls. Why did they blow up a freaking street?

Were they insane?

Jaune thought about that, and nodded.

So, beside Shadow-Monsters that live underground, there were also super-powered crazy girls flying around at night.

He felt he could safely rule out this being a Government experiment now, and felt he could safely move to alien invasion next.

And, if this is an alien invasion, they're doing a terrible job.

Just release a dna-altering virus and be done with it.

Maybe, just maybe, just because Aliens discovered FTL travel didn't make them anymore intelligent than them, it could easily be like a dog falling into the drivers seat and accidentally starting the car.

Jaune shook his shaggy hair, enough musing, he decided. He needed to leave, he had no idea how long he was out for, but he needed to get back out there, the longer he waited, the more people would suffer.

"Holy-, Amber! He actually woke up! We didn't kill him!" A voice spoke then paused, and Jaune felt himself being looked at. "Oh! Also, he's gorgeous when he's not bleeding out!" A unfamiliar voice-, no wait, he heard it briefly earlier, spoke from behind him.

Turning around, he saw her, a woman of average height and build, coming out of the bathroom. Her hair short and close-cropped, with a brown-black hair, and large, pale blue eyes who looked at him curiously.

She dressed loosely, wearing blue hot-pants, and a white tank-top, revealing she had a sleeve of tattoos on either arms. She smiled at him, and Jaune felt a sense of danger from her, as he took her measure, noticing while she was average height and build, she was tightly muscled and lean.

Like a fighter.

"Hey, ease up, tiger." She called out nonchalantly. "I don't bite, not unless you ask nicely." She teased him.

Jaune took a step back, whole body tensing up, he did not like this. He was at the disadvantage here.

"Who are you?" Jaune asked bluntly, feeling the world narrow on to her, studying her like a frog on the lab table, looking at her stance, breathing rate, eye dilation, and a hundred other little things that might suggest that she was dangerous.

"Gee," She blushed. "Don't go looking at me like your about to eat me up," She paused and looked away. "Vernal, Vernal Mayday." Something clicked in her head. "Wait, you're legal right? I mean you're built like a statue, but you look kind of young, oh shit, you're not. I've been coming onto a minor."

"I'm 17," Jaune admitted. "So, yeah. I'd appreciate it if you would stop."

"Yeah, I'll get back to you in like year, cool?" She said weakly. "Unless...?"

"No. Uh, no. Sorry. I kind of have a whole, wait, I don't need to explain myself." Jaune said half to Vernal, and half to himself. "So, how'd I get here, and where is my stuff."

Vernal opened her mouth to explain, but turned her head seeing something. "I'll let amber explain. So, sit down for a second, it won't kill you."

Jaune sighed, doing as he was told. "Could I have my pants back?"

Vernal gave a awkward smile. "Sorry, uh, we kind of cut them off of you to get you fixed up."

"Oh." Jaune said sadly. "Thanks. So, it was you that fixed me up?"

She nods, taking a seat across from him, holding a cup of coffee. "Amber and I, speaking of which-"

Jaune saw a door open, and a pretty brown-skinned girl make her way towards him in a way that he found reminiscent of his older sisters. "Thanks the Brothers!" Then she wrapped her arms around his neck. "We thought you weren't going to make it a couple times last night!"

Jaune hadn't been hugged in a long-time, not since he had started making it his life's work to fight against the Shadow Monsters. He had put up barriers between himself and everyone, family included.

It might have been selfish to isolate himself, but if he died out there, he didn't want anybody to be sad when it happens.

So, he felt very surprised to be hugged by a pretty girl he hardly knew.

He opted to pat her bat half-heartedly.

Then he looked at the clock. It was morning, if barely.

Well, the Shadow-Monsters would be retreating now anyway, so he didn't have anywhere to be yet.

Then she pulled back. "First off, thank you. Second off, what the hell was all that last night?!" She asked grabbing his shoulders.

"Yeah, Amb's was up in arms about giant scorpions or something, and then you show up, Mr. Knight. I've heard about you, uh, that's why I hit on you, I thought you were a bit older... Anyway, whats up with your one man-crusade." Vernal looked at him from behind her coffee.

Jaune gulped. Then he sighed. Then he looked them both in eyes one after the other.

"I'll do my best, but first, I need something to eat." His stomach backed his claim with a growl. "Second, I'd like some pants." Amber took a look down at his barely-covered body and blushed, backing away slowly. "Third and finally, I don't have all the answers myself, so if I miss something, it's not because I not telling you, it's because I don't know. So, are you sure you want to know? Something knowing the truth is scarier than knowing nothing at all."

Amber looked to Vernal, who looked back with a nod.

"I want to know."

"Same."

Jaune took in a breath, clearing his lungs. "Well, it started last year, in the my sophomore year of high-school,-

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

Ruby waited in front of the school as the sun rose. She let out a yawn that wouldn't be out of place on a puppy, and stun-locked anybody who might have seen it out of cuteness.

She never got up this early! School didn't start till 9am, so most days she slept until 8:50 and then rushed to school! But, today was different, today was the first day of the rest of her life with Jaune!

Ruby blushed.

Phrasing.

As Best Friends Forever, that is, and totally wasn't waiting on him because, she didn't have his number, and wanted to ask him to be her bodyguard this afternoon, so she could pick up almost-illegal smut.

She definitely wasn't doing that.

"Morning, Ruby." Came a kind voice, that nearly made her jump out of her skin.

Coming up jogging next to her was her other BFF, Pyrrha, who glistened with a sheen of sweat, that drew attention showing off her toned, flat stomach, as she was currently in her jogging outfit, which consisted of a deep-red sports bra and athletic shorts.

Many boys, and girls, had dared waking up before school to catch a glimpse of her in the state, though none actually had the courage to go talk to her.

Nobody wanted to get on the bad side of the champion of Mistral Junior Historical Martial Tournament, 4 years running, and idol in her own right, Pyrrha Nikos.

Ruby clutched her chest. "You half-scared me to death!"

Pyrrha giggled. "I'm sorry. Anyway, what are you doing here so early? Did you forget something? School doesn't open for another hour, you know?"

Ruby's eye drifted away. "Uh, you know, just waiting to get some good ol' education! Can't wait for school!"

Pyrrha raised a eyebrow. "Is that so, Ruby? In that case, I can quiz you over yesterdays classes while we go on a short 10k jog."

Ruby paled. "I'm good!"

"So, what are you really here for?"

Ruby shyly looked at the ground. "Jaune."

"Really?" She looks around. "Where is he?"

"Not here."

"What time does he get here?"

"I don't know." Ruby pouted. "I don't even know where he lives! Nobody would tell me!"

"Who did you ask?"

"Yang, Weiss, Blake, Myself, CCT..."

"I'm sorry, I don't know either."

"Not that you could find that out just, by asking around," Came a strict voice that made both stand ram-rod straight. "The Arc's are notoriously private, and live on the edge of town." Ms. Goodwitch, the disciplinary of Beacon and Deputy Head-Mistress.

At least in public spheres, beyond that, she was also a master of supernatural art of Aura, and lead trainer for the current generation of the defenders of Light.

Also known as, Magical Girls.

"They're also know for being trigger happy, so don't go intruding on they're compound." The Head-Mistress added idly.

"You mean house, right?" Pyrrha asked weakly.

Ms. Goodwitch fixed her glasses. "No, no, I don't. Though," She looked at the two girls. "You two shouldn't worry about that." They're was a certain glimmer in her eyes.

"That said, why the interest in Mr. Arc, Miss Rose? Has he acted in a manner untoward to you? If you desire it, I could have him expelled by this afternoon."

"No! He's great!" Ruby said in a panic.

"Yes, he's been nothing, but a gentleman to her," Pyrrha added hastily.

"I merely was joking, Mr. Arc isn't a bad boy despite his image. It's good to know he's finally reconnecting to people, again. That said, you won't find him this early, he's made a bad habit of arriving just as the bell rings, the sheer about of tardys he should have would have gotten anyone else expelled, if not for the cowardice of the teachers at this academy. I wouldn't expect to see him at earliest for an hour or more."

Ruby dropped to her knees in sorrow. "That means," She pauses. "I got early for no reason!"

Ms. Goodwitch smiled at her, but there was certain evil to it that made Ruby shiver. "I wouldn't say that, in fact that means we have time to train away any," She pause with a grin. "Any flaws in your 'skills' miss Rose."

Pyrrha gave her a sympathetic smile.

"And, you too, of course Ms. Nikos." The teacher turned to her with a smile.

Pyrrha smiles falsely, shuttering internally.

"Though, I'd like to ask a favor, though. When you find Mr. Arc, direct him to me, I need to have a conversation with him."

"Really? About what?" Ruby asks.

"His grades, Ms. Rose. They have slipped well below Beacon's standards, and we need to address this, or he will have to leave the school." "What!? Oh man," She turned to Pyrrha. "What do we do, Pyrrha? We're going to lose our new BFF!"

Pyrrha kept up her fake smile. "It's fine Ruby, we can help him out, and soon enough, it won't be a problem." Though she was calm, Pyrrha also felt worry. Jaune was the first excitement she had felt in her civilian life in years, losing him would be terrible.

Ms. Goodwitch gave them a pleasant smile. "I am proud to see the camaraderie in between you two and your fellow students, hopefully this will be a good influence on your fellows." Then a faint purple glow surrounded the two girls, forcing them to walk forward. "Now, lets us get some training done with the time we have."

Internally Pyrrha and Ruby screamed.

----

At some point during his story, Jaune had acquire a fluffy pink bathrobe and some athletic shorts that one of Amber's previous boyfriends had forgotten.

He hadn't bothered to tie the robe shut, leaving his scarred and muscular chest out to the air, if one looked to the side, they could see stitches going up his sides and the angry red-pink flesh under it.

In front of him was a empty plate covered in grease stains, and another, and another. He was a monster, he had eaten everything in they're refrigerator over the course of his story, it was horrifying, and not a speck on him.

Still, Vernal had to admit, it was a attractive quality in a way, a strong body needed a lot of fuel, it just another way of showing strength. Still, he was buying them grocery's.

"Monsters are real. I go out at night and fight them, also they're some sort of gang of super-powered girls blowing up things. I have no idea why, and they're probably a conspiracy to prevent this knowledge from getting out, as no information exist on these things. The End." Jaune finished, summing up his tale.

"Wow, that's crazy." Vernal added.

"Yes. It's also true."

Amber was staring into her coffee. "So, huh, yeah. I don't really have a response for all that."

"Don't need one." Jaune drained a glass of water. "You have the knowledge now, it's up to you how your use it. You saw it with your own eyes, it's up to you to do ignore it, or seek it."

Jaune looked at the time. He was late for school. He shrugged, not like he actually accomplished anything there, maybe it was time to drop out? Not like he was going to graduate, much less, make it through the year.

It wouldn't hurt for him to skip a day, he had done so before after particularly bad hunts. But, he probably should get home, but how was he going to bring his tools back with him, his clothes were shredded?

Jaune sighed. He needed more caches.

"Alright, I'm in." Amber said suddenly.

"What?" Jaune said with all the warmth of the hadal zone. "Excuse me, but I wasn't making a recruitment pitch. I was just giving you answers, to make sure you're careful, not to come and help me."

Amber frowned. "I wasn't asking."

Vernal raised her mug. "Me too, then."

Jaune looked at them bewildered. "I tell you monsters are real, and your first response is, 'I'm in?' What's wrong with you, two?"

Vernal grinned. "Same thing as you, I suppose."

"You can't expect to tell people to do as I say, not as I do, can you?" Amber added. "Look, I'm not saying I want to go out and be a street-warrior like you, but you clearly need help, you're in over your head, and the fact you're alive is a miracle that only the Brothers could make happen."

Jaune had no response for that.

"I'm saying, we're going to help you from now, we can't have The Shadow Knight going around dying from blood lost, can we?" Amber continued.

"Fair point. Also, please don't tell anyone, I don't want to get locked up." Or break out of jail, Jaune thought.

"No problem, and I don't think most people are eager to find-out that they're vigilante hero is a teenager." Vernal added.

Jaune leaned back in his seat, and got up. "I guess, I should get going, I'll be back for my stuff later. I'll bring over some notes later, maybe you two can figure out something I haven't."

"What do you mean, leaving? You are need rest." Amber said firmly.

Jaune looked at the clock. "Un, I have school?" He lied about his intentions.

Amber handed him a slip of paper. "Now you don't, you have a doctor's note, now go sleep on that couch."

Jaune nodded meekly, and within minutes he was in a deep, dreamless sleep.

Vernal and Amber watched him sleep for a moment.

"So, we're helping him now?" Vernal ventured, not against the idea.

"Yep," Amber added. "I mean, think about it, Vern. We can't get clearer sign then this. For so long, we've tried to get out of the 'life', and now a bonafided hero drops in our laps, if that not a sign, I don't know what is." Amber bit her lip. "But, I do know, if we want to be better people, we gotta help him."

Vernal laughter. "A underground doctor for the Xiong family, and A ex Branwen tattoo artist want to be the good guys now? Well, sure why not?" She grinned ruefully. "If we want to wipe our sins away, I don't see a better shot."

"Yeah, me, neither."

In his sleep, Jaune stirred, briefly, as though internally accepting they're pledges of loyalty. Not that he wanted that responsibility, not in any number of years.

His life was stressful enough, the idea of being responsible beyond what he already did was way too draining.

----

Ruby stormed over to the table. "He skipped school!" Ruby bellowed at her pals, who took her storming over in the same way one did to a toddler fighting them with a foam sword.

With barely held back giggles. Ruby was far too ... Ruby to be make anyone shake in fear.

"Is that so?" Weiss said with faux-curiosity. "Well, guess we won't be seeing much more of him then. It's obvious that he doesn't take school seriously enough to be worth our time."

Yang leaned back, shirt stressing against her ample chest. "In other words you can't stand him standing us up?"

"That is not what I said!" Weiss huffed. "Why not ask that fool's friends?" She jerked a thumb toward a solitary table with two pretty girls sitting by themselves, with only one doing any talking.

But to be fair, she was doing enough talking for ten, and the other was doing enough listening for any 3 letter agency.

Ruby paused. "He has friends?" She then corrected. "Besides me, you guys that is. Jaune is. My BFF. Your guys too, so that makes them my BFFS too, and-"

"Ruby." Blake said politely. "Turn your mouth off before you burn your brain out."

Ow. "I resemble that remark." Ruby said glumly. "Anyway, how'd you know that he friends before me?" Ruby looked at Weiss with narrowed eyes of suspicion.

Weiss casually pulled out a stack of documents. "Please, the Schnees have eyes everywhere."

"Expect to ethics." Blake added.

Weiss growled. "Not now, Blake."

"Or your father to what your mother gets up to in her spare time."

"Last warning." Blue flames briefly shot from the pale heiress's eyes.

Blake smirked and went back to reading.

Weiss, though, took that as a victory, and went back to haughtily presenting information to Ruby.

"Weiss ..." Ruby said quietly. "I think it's cool if you have a crush on Jaune, but stalking him isn't the right way to go about it." She looked at Weiss with eyes full of pity.

"I DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON JAUNE ARC!" Weiss bellowed, face red and breathing heavily.

"Classic tsundere." Blake said to Yang.

"I know right?" Yang nodded, turning to Ruby. "Poor girl is down bad." Her sister nodding along, with Ruby put a hand on her friend shoulder, and gave her a thumbs up. "You have my full support, bestie. Oh, this means you get to be my bestie in law and Jaune too!" She turned to look for him. "Congrats, Jaune! Oh right, he's not here." She then pouted.

"What do you think Pyrrha?" "Oh, me?" Pyrrha said looking up from her studying. "Hmm. I don't approve of stalking." Internally, she mused. 'She can have her turn when I'm done.'

The cafeteria was quiet in awe, Jaune Arc was barely above scum in the school, but internally they're respect for him grew three-sizes that day, for he pulled a Schnee.

To him they all thought, 'Mad respect, bro, mad respect.'

Weiss screamed and then stormed away in a flash of anger, no one questioned it, assuming it some-sort of Tsundere quirk.

"Poor girl, can't take her own feelings." Ruby said with pity. "Well, guess I'll go ask them about Jaune, maybe they can explain why he decided he wanted to be a dirty, selfish, skipper of school and classes, who is a meanie jerkface."

"Wow, Ruby. I didn't think you could be so foul-mouthed." Yang teased lightly.

"Well, that's just how I feel, ok?" Ruby pouted, once again not understanding sarcasm. "I'm sorry that got so caught up in my emtions."

"It's fine," Yang waved her off, and standing up. "Lets go fine out what his friends know."

The remaining girls then walked over to the ginger and raven haired girls.

"So, that's why I think Spruce Trellis is a alien from the planet hidden from us by the Authority." Ginger girl said with utter confidence.

The black-haired girl merely nodded, then turned to them. "Hello, what do you need?" She added bluntly.

"I didn't do it." The ginger added.

"We haven't even asked anything, yet." Yang said.

"You got nothing, and you will never have nothin." The ginger continued, then leaned back, crossing her arms.

"My apologies for her behavior." The black-haired one said. "Can we help you?"

Ruby put her hands on the table. "Where is Jaune Arc?" She said bluntly.

The red-head picked up a butter-knife, waving it threatening it dangerously at Ruby. "You got nothing on us! He didn't do it! I have his alibi, He's a gentle soul! I trust him with my life, I'd have his baby's if Ren wasn't here! Jaune would never kill anybody who didn't deserve it! That's it!" She jumped on the table. "They're on to him, Ren! We got to protect him!" She then tried to jump at the girls, only for the other girl to grab her by the shirt and put her back down on the seats.

Ren shrugged, passing off that moment of insanity as if nothing had happened. "My apologies, but we haven't seen Jaune today, is something the matter?" Ren asked politely, but all the girls felt they're blood-chill under her gaze.

Ruby took a step back, fighting the urge to use her aura on them. "N-no, it's just he's my new bff, and I'm worried about him when he didn't show up today."

"Oh." Ren said simply. "Good. In that case, he's probably not feeling well today, he's been working a night-job recently, and from what he's told me, it's very exhausting."

"You're Jaune's friend!" She turned to Ren. "He's allowed to be making them on his own?" Ren shrugged. "Awesome! That's means your my friend too, now! I'm Nora, Nora Valkyrie, and this is my partner in crime, Lie Ren!"

"Just Ren, please."

The girls made introductions, quickly, before sitting down.

"So, Jaune has a job?" Pyrrha probed, her respect growing for him. "And, still comes to school? I thought his family lived on a compound, why does he need a job?"

Ren steepled they're fingers. "That's his business, not ours, but he's very skilled with his hands."

"That coming from ... first hand experience, eh-eh?" Yang joked.

Ren nodded. "Yes, he does beautiful work, and always left me satisfied."

"Oh, your close like that?" Yang leaned back, surprised.

Nora nodded furiously. "Oh like you wouldn't believe! We've been tight forever, I know both of them so well, I could paint you a picture of them both naked blind-folded!"

The Magical Girls in Public Dress blush. 'Wow.'

"I didn't think he had relationships like that." Ruby muttered.

Yang blushed, looking away. "Maybe, we should talk about something else, now."

Blake leaned in with interest. "Go on."

"Um. Does he meet with you two often?" Pyrrha asked, trying to be discreet.

"Not as much as we used, too." Nora sighed. "But, it's always memorable when we do!" She then immediately brightened up.

"Jaune has a very busy life outside of school, so we make the most of our time here at school." Ren added.

"You mean, here?" Blake leaned forward.

"Yeah, we're joined at the hips here!" Nora exclaimed. "We're like buns in the oven of life!"

Ruby coughed, still red. "So, good to know. Think you can tell us some more stuff about Jaune, my, I mean our, bestest friend forever?"

Nora opened her mouth.

But, Ren covered it. "I'm afraid that you'll have to wait till Jaune is back," Ren gave a look at Nora. "Jaune should be the one to ..." He paused looking for the word. "To explain his quirks to his, I mean, our friends."

Nora nodded. "Right. Sorry, girls. Oh, but I could tell you about that time Jaune busted me out of Juvie!"

"That was a dream, Nora." Ren sighed.

"It was an awesome dream, Ren."

"Could you tell me anyway?" Ruby asked, eager to hear it.

Nora looked at her in surprise. "Really?" She searched Rubys face, then smiled, only to look nervously at the other girls. "You three wouldn't mind, would you? I've been told I talk too much, before."

Yang nodded. "Go for it, girl! I love a good story."

Blake shrugged, then put her book in her lap. "I don't mind a change of pace."

Pyrrha searched Nora's face. "Does Jaune listen to your dreams?"

Nora gave a mega-watt grin. "Oh, like you wouldn't believe, he even askes question! I mean," She looked shy for a moment. "We met in middle-school, and I had been talking non-stop about my dreams, and Ren hadn't been there to help, uh, what's the word, put a leash of me?"

More blushes.

"And, so meanies had told me to be quiet, which I get, but they didn't have to be jerks about it. And, all of a sudden this blonde boy I never met stands up and tells them, he wasn't done listening to me." She smiled in a far-off way. "He actually got into a fight for me, over it. That was the first time he had ever fought anybody, unlike his beefy-bod now, he was a 60lb twig, and got his butt handed to him."

That was a hard to picture in Ruby's head, despite only knowing Jaune for a short time, at least better now, it was hard for him to picture him losing. To anyone, actually. Even to her, or the other girls.

She shook her head, that was absurd, Jaune was strong, but he didn't even have Aura.

But, Ruby had to admit, he had a strength of will and character that made Aura seem so minor by comparison.

Nora laughed. "He didn't care though, just kept getting back up, telling the guy that I needed to be apologized too he's always been so stubborn.

"He was crying, nose-bleeding, eye completey black with bruises, and he just would not stay down, it got to the point where the other boy got so tired of him he couldn't move, and Jaune stood of over him.

"Imagine for a second, how scary that is, you're some big 12yr and beating the snot out of boy half your size. You feel great, high as heaven, and then he gets up.

"Your hands get heavy, your arms start to hurt, you can't breath right anymore. He stands up again, bleeding, bruised, but not beaten. Your hands ache from hitting so much, you trip, and he stands over you, dripping blood off his face, and his eyes stare into yours, just repeating the same phrase.

'Tell her you're sorry, tell her you're sorry, tell her you're sorry,' over and over again.'

"Anyway, he got so scared of Jaune, he wet himself and changed schools! It was great!" Nora cackled.

Ren nodded. "I wasn't there for it, but I came to the office as soon as I heard Nora had been called up there. Jaune was there holding her hand," Ren turned to her with a smirk. "You forgot to mention you were crying into his chest about how sorry you were forgetting him hurt, and that you'd be his best-friend forever, and then immediately saw me, and then, she told me, I was his best-friend forever, too." Ren sighed wistfully. "We've been inseparable ever since.

"Ren!" Nora whined. "Don't go making me look like cry-baby!"

"That's beautiful." Yang rubbed her eyes, her voice choking.

Blake and Pyrrha staring at her like she grew a second head.

"Excuse me," Yang said still rubbing her eyes. "Sorry, I don't want to get all soppy and weak. I just can't stop myself when I hear something like that." Ruby patted her sisters back.

Nora looked away. "It's cool. Glad you liked it..."

The table went silent.

"Would you mind if we started coming to set over her with you two girls, during lunch?" Pyrrha asked hesitantly.

Ren smiles. "No, not at all." He paused. "Wait, girls?"

------

[alpydk]

🌿 🌸

Good morning anon. Thanks for the ask, talking about fics I love! I did a huge post the other day so quickly going to add them in here as well. - Recommend only one hahahahahaahahahahahaahaha.

🌿Rec someone else’s BG3 fic and tell us what you like about it!

The 5 from the other day (Find the post here to see why)

Alchemy 410 Broken Horizons Weave me the Sunshine Professor Dekarios Twin Compasses

And now some more that I didn't link Weave and Woods - @weaveandwood - Honestly I just love the pairing. Auroria is such a good character who I genuinly see ending up with Gale. And it's not been all that eay relationship where they fall in love and are happy. They have their challanges. I most of all love seeing her learn new spells because that doesn't really happen in fics and its great to see. (Especially how proud she is with it.) "The second, third, fifth, ninth tries were similar. On the tenth try, she thought she saw a few sparks of electricity surrounding the arrow, sending a surge of pride through her. She was close, she could feel it. " - Come on Ori, you can do it!

---

Strange Highways - I have been on about this fic since chapter one. No fic has caught be like this. It's like it calls to my chaotic nature and I will keep screaming it into the Tumblr void like some insane looney fan. Just me alone with my billboard - READ THIS FIC. It's Cazador in a rock group in the 80's. It's funny, has amazing music referances but most of all it's just so fucking good to read.

The words spoke to his soul, into the very depths of it. He felt them with every cell of his body. This was not like the weak melodies bards played back in Faerûn. This music had authority. It had power.

Master of puppets, I'm pulling your strings

Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams

Blinded by me, you can't see a thing

Just call my name, 'cause I'll hear you scream

It was perfect. He imagined saying the words, making them his own. This was a supreme incantation, it had to be. This one would make people obey. Just Fuck Yeah!

--- Paperback Writer - (Short 600 words) - Haarlep edits Raphael's novel. It's fucking funny and I love it. Simple as. "Quivering, the hero took my hand I’m pretty sure Tav told you not to touch them, and it made you pout for a week."

And now the non Bg3 ones... because oops...

RE: Umbrella Asylum (Resident Evil) - @judasiskariot - It's got that lab, depressing, in your head build up mood. You know the one, everything is clinical but there is evil shit going on. The descriptions are fucking beautiful and I love it. "Icy blue eyes that were at least as cold as the black lenses of the glasses." - Just that about Wesker. I still think of it even now. ---- La Petite Mort - One of the most beautifully written crackfics I've ever read. Barbie/Dracula. - Just try it and love it. He should have gotten rid of her by now. Made a meal out of her, at least, even if only the once: her blood will surely be sweet, so sweet, heady and deep and dark when he drinks from her.

But he keeps finding excuses.

Not yet. If I'm honest my reading of fics has been limited recently. I have a few too many that just seem to have been abandoned and I'm becoming hesitant to start up reading newer chapter fics. I'm also a little put off when I see things at chapter 54 and then find its over 200k worth of words to catch up on. Yeah, I need to have people recommend fics to me so if people want to send me asks with their recs go ahead.

🌸Rec one of your fics and tell us what you like about it! Only one.... But I'm so good. (They say, going through the 40 fics knowing they really could be better.) I'm my own worst critic. Fuck it, you get more than one. This is my answer!

Cabinet of Oddities - It's Nana's story. What started all this chaos. It is love and adventure and mental illness and healing all rolled into one big Galemancer sized ball. 56k words of just me. I may also be writing the sequel/prequel right now... “A kiss does not necessarily have to mean love though, just as a hug certainly does not. Is that what you were expecting to feel?” He looked into her eyes. He had always been that of the hopeless romantic. As much as he wanted to believe his own words, he knew he was not the type to kiss without love, or at least potential love.

She gazed back at him. “I’m not sure. I wasn’t expecting to feel fear though.”

“And, do you fear me?” He hoped that she would say no. That maybe this feeling could blossom, that all their unspoken feelings could be revealed and yet he was also nervous of her answer. That if she said no, it would be something else holding him to this mortal coil, someone else who would eventually realise he was not good enough.  Just look how fucking good that is. (I'm not allowed to be down on myself so the other end of the spectrum it is)

--- Tattered Souls - RuganxGale (Also writing the sequel right now) - This is my ZhentWeave baby. This is all for me. I love it and that's all that matters. Honestly writing something like has been extremely liberating and I recommend everyone write something like this at some point. “Just get out of here...” Rugan’s voice was weak, his gravely tones quiet, and he tried to lift himself from the ground.

Gale spoke calmly, keeping his eyes on the mercenaries in front of him. “Not without you.” He could unleash the lightning bolt and possibly fire a magic missile before being hit if he moved quick enough.

“This isn’t your fight.” A hacking cough brought up small amounts of blood, which were spat onto the ground. “Just leave.”

An arrow flew from a trigger-happy archer whistling past Gale’s ear and he almost unleashed the lightning bolt in reaction, stopping only as he saw Rugan stand before him in defence of the female Zhentarim.

“Gale, not your fight...” Love me some cliches and tropes. Love them.

--- Okay, last rec. Not that anyone will read all of this, anyway. You're all looking for your own fics after all (I do that then get quietly depressed when my name isn't on the list... But we all do that, right? Right???)

Where is that child now, I wonder? - Gale past short (500 words). I keep thinking of this one a lot recently. Of young Gale and his relationship with his father. This is probably more a head cannon than an actual fic but it's stuck with me. - I recommend a read if you're looking for ideas. "No! I won't let my son read poetry and become like a delicate flowered prick of an elf. Weak, pathetic! No, he will do as I say and do it when I tell him to!" 

Again, thanks for the ask. I do love talking about recommendations and I have a number of Chase whump fics on the bookmarks list, as well as a few quick one shots I've enjoyed. Would love recs from others as said - The more angst the better. :)

[steakout-05]

AOZ Total Apocalypse Barry Redesign

so last year, i posted a couple of sketches of this design i had for Barry Steakfries in a scenario/AU where AOZ was a complete survivalist apocalypse. i really like the design i came up with, but my art style has matured and changed a lot since that original post, and i thought i'd give TA!Barry a revamp with an updated style and more details than i initially gave him :D

here is his new and improved design!!! + an image for comparison

(sorry for the image being comically big lol)

his design was originally based on Barry's Monster Hunter skin from Magic Brick Wars where he's seen with a scratch over his right eye and i thought that was a really cool skin for him, so i made a whole alternate universe design from that. thing is though...... the eyepatch in the original design i made was on the wrong eye. so like. i had to fix that lol. i also felt that the design didn't look visually distinct enough? like it's different from the OG inspiration but i felt like it needed more, so i gave him some boots, a belt, shifted around his injuries and gave him a different hairstyle. i really like the hairstyle i gave him, it looks messy and disheveled and yet is still reminiscent of who Barry was before the apocalypse and i also came up with it in like 10 seconds :3 also, i felt like his tie kind of cluttered the design a bit and didn't feel necessary, so it's now wrapped around his left leg as a makeshift brace.

Total Apocalypse is something i've actually thought out a story outline for, so the next few paragraphs are just gonna be me spoiling explaining the lore and why Barry looks the way he does, along with some other stuff :D (this ended up being WAY longer than i intended it to be lmaoooo)

the general story of Total Apocalypse is about how a catastrophic event occurs after Professor Brains mysteriously goes missing, in which an extremely powerful and unstable version of the AOZ Zomb Bomb goes off and sends a shockwave throughout all of time that throws the entire timeline into becoming a complete apocalyptic wasteland that sends all of civilisation back 100 years and kills millions. Barry and Craig, who appear to be the sole survivors of the event, crawl out of the wreckage of the professor's laboratory and must find a way to survive and possibly restore what was destroyed, rebuild a new life from the ashes or abandon ship and try to find an entirely new timeline where none of this ever happened. the story is pretty focused on the characters and how their personalities could change based on the events they go through. it's kind of a "what if i put these two through hell" type of thing lol.

i haven't planned this out completely, but the whole reason the apocalypse happens is because Brains has been slowly going absolutely insane after defeat after defeat and is planning to completely destroy the timeline of any and all trace of Barry Steakfries for good. he ends up having a lot more get in his way than trying to plot the destruction of Barry however, and it only makes him spiral more and more. the thing that tips Brains over the edge is Glorebax repeatedly trying to stop his plans both out of Brains wasting valuable resources on weird experiments and genuine concern for his wellbeing, as Brains has been acting extremely erratic, choosing to isolate himself in a secret underground lab for several weeks at a time and lashing out at anyone who irritates him even a little bit. shit happens, Glorebax discovers the lab and almost manages to completely stop Brains' plans and confiscate his scientific equipment, but he ends up being murdered by Brains in cold blood, taking over RBC and enforcing a sort of dictatorship over the lab and his subjects.

Barry and Craig catch wind of Brains' strange behaviour, and they come across a group of scientists (possibly the Science Team, haven't decided yet) who usher them into an alleyway and explain to them that Brains has been formulating an extremely destructive plan with highly experimental technology, and that if Barry and Craig don't try to stop him soon, the entire timeline as they know it may be completely wiped out. the scientists also explain that they've been in hiding for months and had direct access to Brains' experimental technology. they managed to smuggle it out of the lab to develop specialised gadgets for Barry and Craig to use to protect themselves, should their attempt to stop Brains go sour. they don't know when or where Brains is planning to attack, but they would keep Barry and Craig updated if anything changed.

they never heard a single update from those scientists ever again. not one word. for all they knew, those scientists had just entirely dropped off the face of the earth. the alert that something horrible had happened was extremely sudden. Legitimate Research's scientists rushed and scrambled to send a memo to the duo when they had detected extreme levels of energy coming from a small opening underground. Barry and Craig rushed to the lab as soon as they could, but when they got there, a panicking scientist immeduately shoved them into a nearby portal, crying out that there was absolutely no time to prepare and that they had to stop Brains now. but unfortunately for them, it was already too late. Brains had already activated the bomb, and there were merely seconds left to react, quickly activating the protection gadget, Barry leaps onto Craig and shoves him behind a nearby cabinet, shielding him with his body as the blast ruptured through the laboratory, tearing it and everything surrounding it apart piece by piece as the shockwave ripped through the atmosphere like it was nothing.

miraculously, Barry and Craig survive the blast, though not unscathed at they find themselves trapped under layers of debris and thick heavy dirt. luckily though, the gadget had also survived the blast, although barely, as its power was quickly starting to drain and flicker away, jeaopardising their survival. acting fast, Barry yanked Craig up from the ground and used the gadget's forcefield to deflect the wreckage away as they both hurriedly climbed out into the surface, where they found...

nothing. absolutely nothing. everything they had ever known had been completely and utterly wiped away. what was once a lively neighbourhood full of cosy houses and families was transformed into a horrific wasteland littered with the barely recognisable rotting remains of a life that no longer existed anymore. Legitimate Research's laboratory had completely vanished. the skies were no longer blue and sunny. they were instead painted with a sickly and unnatural green hue, which in itself was being strangled away by a thick and ominous dark smog that turned the whole world black. the grass was no longer green. it was grey, burnt and withered, with every single surrounding plant being reduced to a barely recognisable shrivel of its former self. it was as though the earth had been completely sucked of its life force, and the only thing that was left was a zombified carcass that only persisted because there was no hell lower than here for it to go to. the only thing Barry and Craig could do was stare, completely frozen in place as the feeling of pure, unadulterated terror and dread washed over them, and they realised they had failed their mission. they couldn't save it in time. everyone was counting on them to save their world from a terrible fate, and they failed. and now, everything was gone.

so after all that exposition: why does Barry look the way he does? wtf happened to him? well, at some point in the story, Barry ends up in an ambush that leads to him being brutally attacked by a horde of flesh-eating zombies, and he is in REALLY rough shape. he's quickly outnumbered by just how many zombies there were, causing him to lose an eye and have his entire arm torn off. this immediately sends his body into a pained shock, and he would have ended up as zombie food if it weren't for Craig swooping in at the last second, repelling the zombie horde away and getting him the hell out of there. this scene is supposed to have huge character significance for both Barry and Craig, as it exposes both of their biggest flaws and establishes a major character arc for them. the reason Barry ended up in a huge zombie squabble was because he was in a state of denial that the world they knew was gone now, trying to act as though everything would be fine if they just tracked down a time-travel device and distracting himself by trying to be the tough action hero. he couldn't handle his crushing guilt over the fact that he failed to stop the world from being destroyed and tried to "make up for it" by repeatedly saving the day and refusing to let anything stop him until he was sure he won. Barry severely overestimated how much he could handle on his own and got severely hurt in the process, which gave him a huge reality check that things aren't just going to return to how they once were anymore, no matter how much he wants them to. losing his arm and becoming disabled puts things in perspective for Barry and makes him realise that no matter how much of a hero he wants to be, he's still only human, and the only thing left to do now is to try to adapt and survive. but at the same time, losing something as important as his arm so suddenly in an attack he deliberately went into out of extreme guilt for something be believed he was the sole cause of sends him into a deep depression, and he isn't sure if he can live on like this. he gets better though :3

as for Craig, i haven't fully thought out what happens to him yet. i know i want him to become more courageous and play the role of a no-nonsense combat medic. the significance of the zombie attack scene for him is that it explores Craig's biggest flaw: his fear. Craig has always considered himself a coward. he's often too afraid to face any danger on his own and instead hides away and shuts his eyes until it's all over. this has lead to some pretty bad self-esteem issues and a never-ending cycle of anxiety and guilt. he knows how much of a coward he is. he's hyper-aware of it, in fact. the cycle goes like this: Craig becomes afraid of a dangerous situation -> his immediate reaction is to flee and hide, waiting for someone else to sort out the danger for him or for the danger to sort itself out -> Craig emerges unscathed, but incredibly guilty that he did nothing to save himself and had to rely entirely on the help of others to save him, especially if the danger could have put that person in significant harm -> he ruminates on this guilt, his mind declaring himself a coward and a damsel for being unable to help himself in the face of danger -> Craig is left incapacitated by guilt, thinking himself a worse person for being afraid and deciding that because he couldn't save himself, he'd be too helpless and weak to get himself out of any danger on his own, so he doesn't even try -> repeat.

so, here he is, in another dangerous situation where he could get severely hurt if he doesn't flee and hide away. he's incredibly scared, and because of the way he's conditioned himself to feel about his abilities, he does what he would always do in a situation like this: he hides and watches from the sidelines until the danger goes away. but as he watches on from his little hiding place, a horrible feeling of dread burns up inside him as he notices that Barry is struggling. he's struggling a lot. they're all closing in on him, and he's visibly scrambling to reload his shotgun in time before another zombie attempts to pounce on top of him, and he's running out of strength to just keep pushing them away without the opportunity to attack them back. Craig's entire body is struck with intense burning adrenaline, his heart practically beating out of his chest as he realises that he NEEDS to get out there and help his partner before he's eaten alive. hiding away won't do him any good now. the only way to save this is to attack. with trembling knees and shaking fists, he quickly dashes into action, grabbing a bag full of medical supplies he had stashed nearby and snatching up a blunt metal pole and bolting towards the horde of zombies. he charges at them at full speed, nearly tripping over his own feet from the sheer velocity he was willing to go just to save the one he loves. he raises his weapon and swings hard into the face of his enemies, striking and shoving his way through the horde as he advances closer and closer to Barry's whereabouts. terror fills his entire body as he hears Barry's bloodcurdling cries of pain, and a voice inside his mind tells him that it's already too late to save him and that he should run away while he has the chance. but even then, Craig still persists, his entire form having already gone into overdrive, each cry for help only making him advance faster and faster through the horde. his body was like a machine, instantly converting terror into energy, which only increased the more and more fear he felt.

finally, he had done it. with one last mighty whack of his weapon to the head of a zombie who was about to plunge its teeth into Barry's chest, he quickly hoistered the injured monster hunter up onto his shoulders and made a mad dash into the distance, trying to get as far away from the horde as he possibly could. he had ran into the entrance of a dark and musty abandoned house and, once the coast was clear, urgently tore open the medical bag and spilled an anti-septic solution all around the torn stump where Barry's arm once was and laid him down to rest. his limbs were shaking like mad, his heart felt as though it were going to burst, and his mind was echoing with an ear-piercingly loud drum that just kept beating and beating and beating against his skull. he was absolutely and totally wracked with fear. but he did it. he had proven himself. he was no longer a coward. oh yeah and his bf was safe too yaaaaayyyy!!

ok so. after spoiling literally everything that happens in the story, this is my new and improved redesign for TA!Barry :D i'm really proud of it and i'm really glad i decided to revisit it again!! i want to make a design for Craig but it's like 12 am right now and i've spent WAY too much time writing this damn post and spilling out every idea i have for this au looolll. hopefully reading allat wasn't too much. i love my little apocalypse idiot and i want to draw him again some time! he's fun to draw :D (also i forgot to mention some things, like how Barry uses the brace-and-go and hollywood one-armed shotgun techniques, how i wanted to put a symbol on his eyepatch and how i want to come up with a design for a robotic arm Craig would make for him later in the story, but it's so late and i'm so tired that i'm not gonna bother adding that in,.,, ecks dee)