#til death do us part feed

[confetti-cupcake]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tags @lostinabuddiehaze, @elvensorceress and @monsterrae1! ❤️❤️❤️ I've been posting a lot of non-Buddie snippets from my Survivor fic recently, so let's change it up — here's a tidbit from my murder mystery And Then There Were None-style whodunnit fic set toward the beginning of season 2, featuring both Buck and Eddie, who have just arrived at the manor, unaware of what's about to take place 😈

Eddie can barely make out the name written out on her luggage tag with handwriting as pin-straight as her hair: Dr. Hanako Ito.

“Is it just me, or were you expecting more of a beachy, resort-type place?” she asks, looking around at the manor. 

“Not just you. But hey, where else are you going to find…” Eddie trails off, studying the shrubs decorating the path to the front door, “dueling angel and devil topiary?”

“Creepy, yet impressive.” They followed the path down, passing vivid designs, and Eddie did his best to ignore the striking one of a hooded figure holding a scythe. “Owner has some interesting taste.”

“That’s for sure. You looking forward to the time away?”

“Look, I love my husband and my son. And my job is my passion. But between you and me?” she whispers, low and conspiratorial. “I could really use a vacation.”

“Hey, no judgment here,” Eddie says. “I think we all could.”

Hanako’s chauffeur opens the front door, which is bookended on either side by gargoyle vulture statues. They’re greeted by two butlers, outfit in neat suits, who welcome them. One takes their bags, and the other leads them through the parlor to the recreation room, where the crowd of other award recipients awaits.

“Hey! We were thinking you’d never show up!” a young man sitting close to the door says as he springs to his feet. “Now the party starts.” He runs a hand through his jet black hair before extending his hand out for them to shake. His piercing emerald eyes make him look like something out of a fashion spread, and are the kind that make Eddie stop in his tracks — all-consuming, but unnerving all at once. “Duncan.”

The next few minutes is a blur, while Eddie is stopped by everyone stepping up to introduce themselves on his way to the bar. There’s Harlan, a fire chief from a few states over, whose handshake could strangle someone if he isn't careful. There’s Griselle, a bubbly elementary school teacher who held onto Eddie a beat too long when they hugged, and Sheila, a 40-something police officer whose face tells him she's already exhausted by every single person at this brunch. And Detective Julian Crawford, who Eddie only knows how to address as such because of the badge proudly displayed on his belt. 

Not everyone approaches him. A scholarly-looking guy with thick glasses sits in the corner alone, sipping on a Shirley Temple. And an older woman, probably in her late 50s, her hair in a bun so tight that Eddie doesn’t know how she doesn’t have a splitting headache, stands by the old-timey record player, observing the whole thing with beady, unblinking eyes. 

It’s a while before he even spots Buck, who’s sitting at the bar chatting up a petite brunette in a pink sundress. Or, as he comes to find out when he actually goes over to say hi, is smiling and nodding at the petite brunette in a pink sundress as she, er, drives the conversation.

“It’s really the all-purpose drink, you know? You just cut up all the fruit you have in your fridge or hanging out on your counter, and just put it all in with your red wine of choice. God, I love wine. I could drink it at any meal, even breakfast. Did you know that’s why they call it sangria? Because the red wine makes it look like blood. Isn’t that interesting?”

Before Buck can respond, the woman turns to Eddie. 

“Hi!” she says, before Eddie can say anything. “What’s your name?”

“Uh, Eddie. Eddie Diaz,” he says before shaking her hand. 

“Eddie! It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Mary! Mary Almond. You know, like the nut,” she says with a girlish giggle. “Nut. That’s such a funny word.” She gestures wildly to the barstool on the other side of her as her drink threatens to slosh over the rim of her glass. “Sit down with us! We were just talking about— wait, what were we talking about?” she asks Buck. 

She’s giving… Miss Rhode Island from Miss Congeniality. But she’s gorgeous, in a very approachable, girl-next-door kind of way. And she's clearly full of fun facts. Probably Buck’s type, if he’s being honest. Not that he’s ever thought about this exact thing before. Nope.

Tagging: @ashwinmeird @elvensorceress @megslovesbooks @lightningbuck @jacksadventuresinwriting

[eveenstar]

double the bastard, double the...what's the saying again? | Ulf White x fem!bastard!reader - PART I

consider donating to my kofi if you like my work!

You were the bastard daughter of another bastard daughter, funny, isn't it? Well, not to you. Your mother was another one of Princess Saera's bastards, who worked her entire life to escape her own mother's shadow, but it lingered in the blood. In her hair. In her heart.

It seemed the apple didn't fall far from the tree, as she got impregnated by some stupid Lord that had heard tales of the "white-haired beauties" in the depths of King's Landing. Then, you were born, with silver-white hair of your grandmother and the eyes of your unknown father.

Your late mother, bless her heart, did all she could to not have you end up like her or her mother. No, she promised you were destined for greater things. Her dreams told her so. She swore it til her grave.

After your mother passed, you took refuge with her half-brother, Hugh, always munching on your mother's words over and over again. Your once silver hair was dyed brown, despite your friends' insistence that you shouldn't hide who you are. Let the royals see their doings.

But you knew they cared little. They could have King's Landing be a city of bastards and not give one single fuck about it.

When war came to your doorstep, you were not one to pick sides. Aegon or Rhaenyra, they were all the same. They didn't put food on your table, did they? What matters is that you stayed alive for one more week.

It didn't stay like that for long, no, no, no.

When the news came that Rhaenyra was recruiting bastards to Dragonstone, your mother came to you in a dream. You saw her, standing by one of the brothel's windows, humming a soft lullaby as she held babe-you in her arms.

"It is fierce out there, I shan't lie to you." She whispered. "But we are fiercer. We are the blood of dragons, my sweet girl. I know you will achieve what I could not, and I beg your forgiveness for such."

Now, here you stood before Rhaenyra. But you weren't alone. Next to you were Hugh, a girl named Nettles, the local drunk Ulf White, and a handsome young man called Addam of Hull.

"You have done what was deemed impossible." Proclaimed the Queen.

But not to us, you wished to reply.

Your dragon, albeit smaller than the rest, was an unnamed one when you claimed her. So you took it upon yourself to name her Golden Tooth for her yellowish scales and shy nature.

Still, doubts crippled in your mind. You were to fly to battle with a dragon, likely to never return. Your hand was forced on the matter; it was either starve to death or honour your mother. You wished to not partake in a siblings' war, but you couldn't bite the hand that feeds you. And that hand was Rhaenyra's.

"Wench! Another one of these little birds!" Interrupted Ulf of your thoughts. You looked up from your breakfast.

"You eat like a pig." Hummed Nettles, sitting besides you.

"Ah, ah," Tutted Ulf with a toothy grin. "Like a dragon."

"There's a difference?" Snickered Nettles in return, and you couldn't help but laugh with her. At last, you could use a feminine presence in this stone cold keep, one that wasn't a noble, that is.

Even if Prince Jacaerys and his betrothed despised your group's presence on Dragonstone, you knew he knew they were desperate. Without you, they were nothing.

You mustn't think like that, you reprimanded yourself, this is an honour.

Is it?

Training and practicing High Valyrian and dragon commands was...harder than expected. It seemed you and Ulf were the odd ones out, taking great difficulty in the pronunciations and proper commands. Silverwing was confused, and Golden Tooth believed you merely wanted to play. As if she was a dog and not a dragon!

It was frustrating. Even your good friend Nettles was better than you in this, and despise her innocent teasing, you were growing frustrated.

"Dra-cá-ryze."

"That's not how you say it."

"Shush, girlie. I was born for this."

You scowled at Ulf's words, standing back and watching as he ordered Silverwing to burn a sheep.

"Dra...cáryze!"

The dragon huffed, a brief cloud of smoke leaving its mouth.

"It's dracarys, not dracáryze."

"Ehh, what's the difference?" Ulf brushed it aside with a scoff, but the faint pink of his cheeks did not go unnoticed by you. Yet, you remained unamused.

"How are you to fly into battle with a dragon you do not know how to command?" You inquired. Ulf glanced at you, then to Silverwing, and smiled again.

"This lady knows what to do. She's smart, I tell you that. "She flew us to King's Landing without as much as a word!"

"And nearly got you both killed by a scorpion." You added.

Truth be told, you were never even remotely an acquaintance with Ulf back in King's Landing. You knew who he was, sure, a drunk and funny man who loved to boast himself as "Ulf the Dragonlord." But he wasn't the type of people you preferred to stick around with.

Now that you get to live with him, you regret staying in the city. He was...nothing like a dragonrider (not that you had met many of them). He lacked the grace, the poise, and the looks of one.

Well...

Now that he was bad looking, especially with the new wardrobe Queen Rhaenyra provided you. But he could use with some Valyrian braids, and maybe some brooming, and....

"Aye, girlie, y'starin'." You blinked. Ulf was standing in front of you with a sheepish grin on that stupid face of his. "Can't command a dragon whilst daydreamin', can't'cha?"

You huffed. "You know, I'd call you a bastard but I forget you already are one." You said as you stormed off. "And a stupid one at that!"

"That was mean." Nettles laughed as she jumped on your bed, falling beside you. "But hilarious. The man needs to be put in his place."

"How in the Seven Hells did he claim a dragon such as Silverwing? He's a complete idiot!" You sighed, frustrated. "And his manners at the table, speaking to the Prince and the Queen? I..."

Nettles rolled on her stomach, leaning her head against her hands. "Why are you so bothered? If he's truly that useless, that will be proven in a real battle."

You sat up, running a hand through your hair to adjust it. "Well.. I... Death is a bit much, don't you think? I don't want him dead, I just wished he would shut up and behave for a moment."

Nettles hummed, a cat-like smirk plastered all over her face.

"I know a few ways men can be silenced."

"Nettles!"

Supper had been served two hours ago, yet few little had joined the table. Queen Rhaenyra was absent, and so was her son, Prince Jacaerys. Lady Baela ate very little and kept to herself, merely glancing at Ulf whenever he was being too loud.

Addam was also absent.

Nettles had preferred to stay with Sheepstealer, under her vow to you that she'd eat something later.

The room was eerily quiet aside from your hushed conversation with Hugh about training and how you loved that Targaryen female attire had pockets (of all things you should be worried about).

Much to your displeasure, Hugh, too, wasn't one to stick around for supper. You knew your sweet stay at Dragonstone was coming to an end, and that war was waiting beyond the sea, with the Stranger waiting to bring some of you with him.

Two hours had passed, and you munched on your thoughts instead of the delicious (cold) food that lay before you. You couldn't bring yourself to eat anymore, not when there was a battle inside you. You were afraid, not only for yourself, but for your newfound friends and allies and....your dragon. Something you never thought possible.

I did it, mummy. I did it. I made you proud.

You hoped she was proud. You hoped you had made something good out of your lineage.

"Are you gonna eat that?" Asked Ulf, his eyes practically feasting on your cold plate. You said nothing, merely passed it along to him.

You must have underestimated him because Ulf hesitated in taking your plate, staring at you for a moment. Usually, you'd be laughing with Nettles or Addam while teasing Ulf for his lack of manners or proper conduct.

Not today, it seemed. Ulf wasn't sure if he liked that. It was enough to have everyone on Dragonstone sulking and glaring at him -- them -- everywhere they went. But you? You were the entire sun in the stone fortress. Despite your insistence and giving him a hard time during practice, Ulf found you interesting. Especially when his antics made you laugh, even if it was at him.

"Seems like the princeling got to you too."

"Excuse me?"

Ulf leaned back on his chair, resting his feet on top of the table as he munched down on a chicken wing. "Pouting doesn't suit ya."

"I'm not pouting." You frowned. "I'm worried. As you should be. As we all should be."

"I'm worried, alright. Worried all this food will go to waste. Where's everyone at?" Ulf looked around, but saw only the servants taking the food away, as if expecting him to ask for more.

"We're going to die, Ulf!" You suddenly snapped, bringing the man's attention to you. You'd never seen him so bewildered. "We're not knights, no matter what the Queen says. We're just...pawns in this war. We have no part in this."

Ulf said nothing. For the first time, he found himself speechless. He knew you were right; he wasn't a fool. Well, he was, but not blind. He knew what was coming, but he chose to live in the moment. What memories would he have to remember when the Stranger came for him? Sulking in a palace?

"And I don't want to die. I don't want Hugh to die. Or Golden Tooth, Gods, do the dragons know we are making them slaughter their own kin?" Exasperated, you ran your hands up and down your face. "They're not....We are not-"

Suddenly, a rough and alcohol-filled kiss was pressed to your lips, silencing you. Ulf leaned back, a proud smile on his smug face as he looked at you.

Had the bastard just....

You stared at him, wide-eyed. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"Couldn't help myself," Ulf grinned, "You women love to worry, y'know that?"

The grip around your cup tightened, threatening to spill on him at any moment. But you couldn't. Your cheeks were growing redder than any of Golden Tooth's fire. The cheeky bastard!

"Ulf."

Hugh stood at the entrance of the chamber, holding a sword in his hand. His glare could be felt across the room, like Vermithor himself had just walked in.

"It's time for training."

Ulf took one last sip of his wine, clearing his throat.

"Shit."

[insomniactic-daydream]

Since I Survived..

Pro Hero Bakugo ♡ Pro Hero Reader

Summary: Both of you are pro heroes in your prime. But after a gut-wrenching dream, Bakugo considers other plans for his life with you.

This is an alternate happy ending of 'Beside You' cause I don't want my readers to be depressed. 😭

I recommend reading that first but it can be a stand alone.

Part 1 (Sorta) 》 'Beside You'

TW: Implied deaths, Children (idk if that considered a tw but oh well)

Bakugo's vision starts to dim as he holds you under all the rubble of the collapsed building.

Even though he couldn't save the both of you, he wants to make sure the last thing he sees is his wife angelic face.

It's a shitty way to die. The both of you impaled by a metal bar with no way of escaping and an even smaller chance of survival. Yet, but at least he had you with him.

"I couldn't imagine breathing without you, Kats.." you say in cutting breaths as you use all of your remaining strength to hold him close. Smiling weakly, knowing at least you'd go together.

"Good thing we don't have to, princess." Bakugo heaves out, saying your nickname for the last time as he presses his lips onto yours. Taking each other's last breath...

"PA!"

Bakugo wakes up in a jolt as he gets smacked in the face. Sitting up with a teary-eyed face.

He looks and finds the culprit of his stolen slumber, or savior from that horrible nightmare.

"Papa didn't want to wake up, and Mama said to smack you if you didn't." the blonde and crimson eyed little girl says as she scrambles onto the bed and into his lap.

Katsumi looks at her father's face. For a 6 year old, she is very emotionally perceptive. "Is Papa alright?" She says, reaching to touch his face.

Although the grogginess still lingers, he gives her a big and long embrace.

"I'm fine, princess. Your Pops just had a nightmare, is all." He says while giving her a rare genuine smile. Thank fuck it was a dream.

He held her for what seemed like ages, and yet she didn't mind; after all, she was still your daughter too. Her kindness is genetic.

However, it was not long after that the emotional silence was ruined.

"KATSUKI IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS UP," your voice projects from the kitchen as the smell of breakfast lingers. The two blondes share a laugh before getting off the bed.

Bakugo picks Katsumi up in his arms. "Cmon, our queen is waiting." He says while heading towards the kitchen; using his upgraded nickname for you after you had Katsumi.

He never thought he'd end up here, with kids and a loving wife who hasn't gotten tired of him yet.

Even if the dream was different by the two of you not having Katsumi, his heart still warmed that at least you were the thing that didn't change in his life.

Bakugo is so deep into thought about the dream that he didn't notice he arrived at the kitchen. Guess the dream really opened his eyes about the hero work the two of you been doing.

"Kats?" You say concerned at his blank gaze and hold on Kastumi. His attention now back to reality after your voice.

"You alright, honey?" You say while grabbing Katsumi from his arm and placing her in the chair seated next to her infant brother's high chair. Babbling away like infants do.

Before you can even turn back around to him, he attacks you with a hug. You look at your daughter questionably, but she only shrugs and continues to feed her brother.

"You alright there, you big oaf? ...Kats?" You say before turning around and seeing his teary-eyed face.

"Shut up." He says quickly so he can avoid your questioning. You only sigh in defeat and wrap your arms around him, too.

"Do I at least get to know what this is about?" You say as your husband's grasp tightens.

"We should quit."

"What?" You say confused. Things are going well for the two of your careers, even being in the top 3 from time to time. Hell, he just made number 1 last year.

"We should retire our old asses and enjoy our fucking lives til we're grey and wrinkly." He says in a mumble swaying you back and forth.

"Fuck is a bad word papa."

"Katsumi," You scold the child before sighing. "I mean, I'm not opposed to it, but where's this coming from." You question the vulnerable blonder.

"Mm just had a shi- poopy butt dream," he says, trying to make his sentence child friendly, earning a giggle from his daughter and a chuckled from you. Still, you investigate further.

"About?"

"We didn't make it back from a mission. We held each other til the end, but I don't want that for us," He says quietly to avoid the childs prying ear while his grip tightens on you.

You stiffen. Dying during a mission and leaving the kids behind? That thought left a nasty taste in your tongue and an even bigger ache in your heart.

This time you hold him tighter.

"Guess I'll have to tell the commission that I won't be back from maternity leave then." You say, peppering him with kisses. He let's out a sigh of relief. Being glad that you're both on the same page.

"I think I should just leave the agency to Red then. The interns are going to give me so much crap about being old." He chuckles while kissing you back. Yet his hold on you stays.

A comfortable silence lingers for a little.

"Thank you for keeping up with my crap." He says quietly. His vulnerable insecurity of not being good enough for you showing.

"Til I'm grey and wrinkly, Kats." causing him to chuckle. You always knew how to reassure him.

"Til we're gray and wrinkly."

And with no tragic ends in sight.

Doing this instead of the 8 assignments due tomorrow night. 😭

Enjoying the stories? General Tag List Here

[scoobydoodean]

WAIT WAIT WAIT pleaseeee expand on sam separating his soul himself??? i’ve literally never heard this before (i really wanna agree cause i just can’t work out how cas just did not realize he’d forgotten sam’s soul)

This is just a pet theory I have. I first suggested it here when talking to Shal about Bobby not clocking Sam as soulless. The TL;DR is that Sam has a tendency to create emotional distance to protect himself from grief and other painful emotions. Shal's careful examinations of scripts reveal that it's even in the script direction when Mary dies that "Sam disassociates". In 8.08, Sam is paralleled with Fred, who disassociated to deal with grief (I talk about Sam distancing himself from his emotions in season 8 more largely here). I've been slowly collecting (when I remember) little bits and pieces around this idea that Sam tries to distance himself from his emotions in the tag #i just stopped—named that because of 11.11 when—after being confronted by Lucifer—Sam apologizes for leaving Dean in Purgatory, saying—seeming perplexed by his own actions:

I should've looked for you. When you were in Purgatory, I... I should've turned over every stone. But I didn't. I stopped. And I've never forgiven myself for it.

So this pet theory I have is that in The Cage, to cope with the torture being inflicted on him, Sam simply separated his soul from his body. It was the most extreme possible case of dissociating from his own suffering possible.

6.22 strengthens my belief in this theory because Sam splitting into three pieces is treated as a defense mechanism. It's kind of like an Id/Ego/Superego situation, except that the pieces are soulless Sam, Sam the hunter and family man, and the Sam who remembers hell.

SOULLESS!SAM: Well, your BFF Cas brought the Hell-wall tumbling down and you, pathetic infant that you are, shattered into pieces. (he points at Sam) Piece. (he points at himself) Piece.

SAM: I - I have no idea what you're talking about. SOULLESS!SAM: Why would you? You're jello, pal. Unlike me. SAM: What are you? SOULLESS!SAM: I'm not handicapped. I'm not saddled with a soul. In fact, I used to skipper this meatboat for a while. It was smooth sailing. I was sharp, strong. That is, 'til they crammed your soul back in. Now look at you. Same misty-eyed milksop you always were. That's because souls are weak. They're a liability. Now, nothing personal, but run the numbers. Someone's got to take charge around here, before it's too late. 

Sam and soulless Sam have a power struggle inside Sam's head over who gets control. Soulless Sam is really an enforcer, trying to protect Sam from his worst memories. As we see after Sam kills him:

You think I'm bad? Wait 'til you meet the other one.

Then when Sam finds the other part of himself:

SAM: I have to know what you know. What happened in the cage? TORTURED!SAM: Trust me, you don't wanna know it. SAM: You're right. But I still have to. TORTURED!SAM: Sam, you can't imagine. Stay here, go back, find that bartender, go find Jess, but don't do this. I know you. You're not strong enough. SAM: (exhales) We'll just have to see.

Of course, one could argue that Sam's subconscious creates this scenario with soulless Sam and the Sam who remembers hell because Death told them Sam would crumble and Soulless Sam was scared of the fallout of having his soul reinstalled. But idk. I feel like it goes deeper than that, and tortured Sam and soulless Sam's attempts to protect Sam from the truth feed into that to me.

[lolitakirstein]

Hey Neighbor

(Previous Chapter)

a/n this one if young megumi heavy sorry

Part 3

Fun for Megumi turned out to be more exhausting than you imagined. The afternoon was spent mostly outdoors. Hide and seek, tossing a Frisbee, and even walking down to the small lake at the end of your street to feed the ducks. Now, sitting under the tree, the sun descending Megumi seems to be slowly losing his energy. Much to your delight. You didn’t know how 2 parents were able to keep up with a child, much less how a single father like Toji could. Which made you curious…where is his mother? Is she still involved? Are she and Toji still together? You don’t remember any mention of another woman either from him, Megumi, or even when your grandmother mentioned him. It was always just Toji and Megumi. As much as you wanted to ask, you knew it wasn’t your business. You don’t really know them. But it didn’t keep you from wondering.

Now, Megs sat up next to you, lazily swishing a cat toy back and forth while Mewsy chased it, your arms casually cradling him against your side.

'`Is your grandmother not coming back?” he softly says. You’re shocked by the question. You didn’t even know he was aware of her not being there.

“No,” you choke out. “No she’s…not coming back.” you didn’t know how to answer it. How do you talk to a child about death…a child that isn’t even your own? It wasn’t your place, so you kept it as ambiguous as possible.

“Oh,” he says, almost sad. “I liked her. She made good food.”

You stroke his dark hair, smiling. “Yes, she did. You know she might have left some recipes behind. I could try to make whatever you liked?”

“Chocolate cake!” he quickly answers.

“I’m sure i can find that for you,” you laugh.

“She let me help her make it one day when I was hiding at her house while dad was gone. She let me lick the spoon but promised not to tell him,” he whispers.

Hiding? Was he serious?

“What do you mean hiding? And where had your dad gone?” you ask, casually.

“His work. He took me over to Miss. Ruth's house and told her I needed to hide out there and not to leave the house til he got back.”

You can't remember ever hearing your grandmother mention Megumi staying at her house. “Who were you hiding from?” He shrugs, “Bad guy. That’s what daddy says.”

You stay silent. Is this factual? Or just the wild imagination of a kid? How could you even approach Toji about it–about something that isn’t even your business. But bad guys? And what did your grandmother think about this?

“I’m hungry can we make dino nuggies,” megumi stands up, shaking you from your thoughts.

You both walk back into the house, using the key Toji provided to unlock the front door. The house is simple, clean, almost like no one lived there, except for the various toys scattered in the living room and a few dishes in the sink.

Once the food is cooked you both sit on the living room floor, the tv showing cartoons, a pile of crispy chicken nuggets on a plate between the two of you. You hated to admit how fun this was. You never thought of yourself as a motherly person, but you were easily becoming attached to Megumi.

Your phone pings with an incoming text

Toji: Has he driven you crazy yet?

You smile before replying

You: Plz, he’s an absolute angel.

Toji: Lol, only bc he’s got a crush.

You blush, unsure how to respond.

Toji: I’ll be home in about an hour.

After finishing dinner and sneaking Megs a cookie from the cabinet, the two of you curl up on the couch underneath a blanket. A movie plays on the tv but his eyes are slowly closing as he curls up against your side. It's a comforting weight, his little body, you can’t help but feel your heart warm, your eyes also struggling to stay open…

You feel a warm hand on your shoulder, gently nudging you.

“Hey I’m home,” a soft voice says.

You finally register where you are, shooting your eyes open. Toji is leaning over the couch, hand still resting on your shoulder and Megumi is not next to you.

“Shit! Where’s—” you start to panic. “Relax, I already took him to his room, I’m sorry I'm so late..I got…busy,” he says hesitantly.

“God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you apologize, earning a laugh from Toji

“I told you, he’s not an angel. He will tire you out.”

“No, he was great. We had a lot of fun.” You wanted to ask about what Megumi had mentioned earlier–the hiding, the bad guy, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Not right now anyway.

“I appreciate it,” he says. “Here.” He holds out a thick stack of twenties, a currency strap around it reading 300 dollars.

“Toji! No! This is entirely too much I really didn’t mind.” you say, shocked. Not even daring to touch that much money.

“I insist.” He waves it in front of you.

“No I refuse,” You stand up, heading to the door to put on your shoes. You knew babysitting could come with good cash but never THAT much and just for an afternoon, you’d feel too guilty taking that much from him. You attempt to change the subject. “Uhm he ate dinner and fell asleep not long after you texted. I didn’t let him nap or anything…”

You look up and see toji staring at you with a slightly annoyed expression for not accepting the money. “Uhm, I guess i’ll go–”

“Wait,” toji grasps your upper arm before you can open the door. His big strong hand sends heat down your spine. “Go tell him bye, before you leave.”

“Huh?” you ask confused.

“Go tell him that you are leaving and you'll see him later,” he says, softly. Almost pleading.

“Of course I’ll see him again. Let him sleep.”

“No,” toji shakes his head, his grasp still firm on your arm. “If he wakes up and sees you're suddenly gone and didn’t tell him bye he will freak out…just—please.”

Your heart breaks at the thought of Megumi being upset. In his room, you sit on the bed, his small body curled beneath the covers. You lean over and whisper, “Hey little man, I’m going home.”

He shifts under the covers, a small whine, “no stay.”

“I gotta go feed Mewsy,” you say. “She gets really grumpy if she’s not fed.”

Megumi sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eye before embracing you. You hug him back, now hating that you did indeed have to go. You look at toji, leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile on his lip “I’ll see you later ok?”

He releases you and shakes his head before lying back down. Once you tuck him in, you pass by toji’s looming body by the doorway and walk to the front door. You pause not wanting to leave without asking your questions. Turning back around, Toji is standing behind you. How did you not hear him approaching? You jump back, a little startled at his silent approach.

“I–I should go,” you stammer but don’t move towards the door. Toji removes the stack of money from his pocket and reaches it forward, sliding it into your jacket pocket.

He’s so close you can smell his manly scent, arousal creeping into your veins.

“Thank you.” he whispers.

Before you can do something stupid, you whirl to the door and throw it open. Rushing down the steps without saying goodbye.

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

La Moldau

From Control - Full Story in Progress on AO3!

Ghost x Reader x Soap, previous Graves x Reader from last chapters Summary: It's your first real mission with 141. While Soap seems more than willing to accept you as part of the team, Ghost appears to feel the opposite. But you wouldn't be here if you weren't persistent.

Word Count: 3k Tags: Fluff, Flirting, Bickering, Teasing, Jealousy, Slow Burn, Innocent Flirting, Bratty/Flirty Reader

Part One | Two | Three Masterlist

A/N: More Ghost x Reader x Soap. I’m building it up more, really leaning into the slow burn. I was hoping to make Ghost x Reader feel more like a sarcastic bickering coworkers to slowly growing feelings (which will be later) kind of thing, and the Soap x Reader more innocent, as I think Soap in the new MW is a little bean. I also wanted to have tiny hints of Graves x Reader from past chapters (which more will come in later as well). I just want to feed everyone. Please enjoy~

...

Chapter Four - La Moldau

The treeline disappears into the dark horizon, its foreground blending seamlessly with the star-painted sky. The sound of the helo's propellers whip violently above ground, as a sea of black trees stretch below. It speeds by like an ocean of dark wood and dirt. Endless. The moon looks larger this far into the East, even halved; uncharacteristically beautiful, given current events.

Helicopters rumble like dragons in the quiet air. Your helo tore through the night sky, roaring along with the twisting winds. You sit inside, strapped in with the other six men on this mission with you. Each sat silently, dressed completely in dark greys and blacks, clutching their rifles close to their chest.

A red bulb illuminates the interior. Reality feels far gone with its presence.

Your eyes jump back and forth between your boots and the metal ceiling above you, tapping your finger on your knee impatiently. The way the seats were arranged, you were sandwiched between two men, while three more sat adjacent to you. And as luck would have it, your new "battle buddy" sat directly in front of you, with legs so long they nearly met yours. Every time your eyes pass by, you’d see him looking straight in your direction. Whether that was because he had limited options to look somewhere else, or was merely choosing to look at you, was a question for the ages. 

At this point, you’ve just grown used to it.

"Approaching the LZ in five."

Right. You take a deep breath and straighten up in your seat. In a few short minutes you needed to flip the switch and go into survival mode, as things would soon become a matter of life or death. Your new charge for the next couple of hours. You were happy with only having to worry about not dying. It was surprisingly less stressful than having to think about everything else.

“Alright, we’re gettin’ close now,” Graves speaks to the group. He’d been notably quiet the entire flight. “Team Zulu, you’re out first. Once you offload, find a spot near the target location and sit tight ‘til you’ve got the signal from us to infiltrate the compound. You shouldn’t face any resistance on your route there, but if you do run into trouble, do what you must. Just leave no witnesses. That clear?”

“Clear,” Ghost says.

“Crystal, Commander,” you say.

“I’ll buy us all drinks once this is over,” Graves says. “Now, let’s get this done, yeah?”

You all let out an affirming cheer.

The helicopter sways left and right, pushing everyone deeper into their seats. You start to whistle a tune to yourself. A little song. You found it therapeutic to think of music before a mission; it helps you to focus your mind. You made sure not to be obnoxiously loud, using the rumble of the helo to mostly cover it. Concentrating on the rhythm of your jingle. Despite the noise, it seemed those next to you could still pick out the melody.

"What song is that?" Soap asked you suddenly. You'd almost forgot he was seated beside you, were it not for the fact you'd feel his large frame brush against you each time the helo took a sharp turn. Unintentionally bumping arms and thighs. Each time he did, you felt him awkwardly readjust himself, deliberately pretending that it hadn't happened. It was rather adorable. 

You turn to answer him, raising your voice over the loud roaring.

"It’s The Smiths."

"The what?" he asks again. 

You yell louder. "The Smiths!"

"The Smiths?"

"Yeah," you say. "Have you heard of them?"

"No."

"Really?" You sound pleasantly surprised. "I'll have to show you them after this."

Soap lifts a fist up for you to dap. "Deal."

You smile and dap him back.

You liked Soap, so far at least. He seemed to be the only man here open to conversing, besides Graves. Though even your commander didn’t talk much once the missions were underway. Not as much as Soap did. He seemed down for a good conversation regardless of the occasion, and that’s something you could see you two had in common already. You only thanked God you weren’t alone anymore.

Good thing the lights in here were red too. You didn't have an answer if any of them asked you why you'd started blushing after the Sergeant smiled at you. Though that hint of red left your cheeks when you’d caught Graves looking. 

The commander seemed less than interested in your conversation with the Task Force member, hiding it behind an empty expression. Though his eyes told on him. You give the man a reassuring smile, which only seems to make him look away, before you look down at your own lap.

Why did it feel weird all of a sudden to see him looking?

Soap suddenly looks to his lieutenant, who'd been silently listening in on your conversation from across the helo. He looks to the Sergeant with sunken eyes, already prepping for whatever it was the man had to say. 

"You ever heard of the Smiths, L.T.?"

"Who hasn't."

You can't help but gasp. "I'm surprised you listen to music, Ghost."

"I enjoy a good tune from time to time," he said plainly.

This was news. Yet, at the same time you could see it. Did he seem like someone who'd derive enjoyment from the more peaceful things life had to offer? Something told you he'd probably fancy something simple like window shopping, or day napping. Something in total contrast to his frightening nature. The mind wanders.

"Any songs in particular?"

"Quite a few."

"Like?"

"A lot."

Smartass. You could be too.

"I've never heard of them before," you say sarcastically. “Are they new?”

"A real up and comer," he says back, his sarcasm dry and deadpan.

"Fine, be that way," you say. "I'll get it out of you some day."

"Don't hold your breath."

"Don't tempt me, lieutenant."

Oh he knew how to push your buttons. He talked in circles, keeping you on the outs purposefully. Blatantly. It made it hard to get a read on him. Though you had plenty of time to work on things. You were a patient girl, and the man was like a big, beautiful jigsaw puzzle.

You suddenly hear whistling next to you. A familiar song. You look over and to your amusement, you see Soap has started to whistle himself now. You can't help but smile, feeling a girlish excitement bubble in you from the thought of him joining in.

You take a guess.

"Pink Floyd?"

Soap stops and grins. "Right you are."

You grin proudly.

"Now you see why I call her Songbird," Graves cuts in. You look at him to see a warm look in his eyes. Uncharacteristic, but welcome, all the same. A smile that you always loved to see on him. No matter the interactions, there wasn't a moment you weren’t aware of his presence. You reciprocate with a smile.

"Approaching the LZ.”

The helicopter lands in a small open patch within the middle of the woods, the grass swishing wildly against the wind of the propellers. The doors to the helo are let down, providing a ramp to the outside world. You see the trees surrounding you like soaring black walls. An unsettling feeling washes over you.

“Alright Team Zulu, you’re up!” Graves calls.

You stand, hugging your rifle to your chest as you make your way down the short aisle, Ghost following close behind. As you make your way off, you hear Graves call to the lieutenant suddenly.

“Keep her safe for me, will you?”

His words turn your attention back to him. Perhaps too obvious of a gesture, though when you look you find him already gazing your way, expression weighted with genuine solicitude. You haven’t seen that look before, yet deep down you shared it. That similar pang in each other’s stomachs. Uncertainty.

Ghost answers Graves, gruffly; you're not sure if he’s picked up on the undertones or if he’s simply just answering a question he’d been asked by his superior.

“She’s in good hands, Commander.”

Hearing Ghost say so was more comforting than you would have thought. Still, It felt strange not working alongside Graves.

“I’m a big girl, Commander,” you say to him. “There's nothing you need to worry about. Plus, you’ve got me all excited for those drinks later.”

“The offer still stands, Songbird.”

You give the commander a parting wave and step off the helo.

You two tread the tall grass, the wind from the propellers blowing loose bits from your bunned hair out in a swirl. Once Ghost steps off next to you, you switch on your night vision goggles. That green tint hits your vision, and you’re made well aware of the deep woods which stretch around you. The tall trees box you in like an empty room. You feel the helicopter pick itself up from the ground, riding away until it could no longer be heard. Its roaring noises were replaced by a heavy silence -- wind needling through the branches, owls hoo -- the natural ambience is restored.

This is where your mission truly begins.

“Let’s move.” Ghost signaled for you to follow him, as you traversed deeper into the woods. 

Without your night vision, it would be pitch black. Though even with them, the darkness of the woods still felt rather intimidating, to say the least. Neither one of you spoke a word, listening for whatever sounds you could hear on your route to the facility. So far the woods appeared empty, though that did little to comfort you. You kept your rifle tight in your hands, finger hovering over the trigger. Your breathing was tight and focused, your eyes wired on your surroundings. Even without any shooting, the adrenaline you felt right now was like nothing you could really describe or feel anywhere else.

You walked further in now. The destination didn’t seem any closer than it did three minutes ago, though right now the passage of time felt all but imaginary. You watch Ghost lead you forward, taking long steps so quiet that you’re sure you’d lose him out here if you didn’t keep him in your sights. The man really was a Ghost. He never looks back at you either, keeping his eyes forward, and gun ready to fire if needed. 

He was in his zone; there’d be no breaking him from that.

Not until he breaks it himself.

“Watch for cougars,” Ghost warned casually. The first thing he’s said to you since you’ve started walking. A wonderful new thing you needed to think about while you were out here. “They’re known to stalk," he says.

You say so sarcastically, “Thanks for the tip."

“It’s what I’m here for,” Ghost quipped.

“Oh,” you tease. "I thought they only had you out here for eye candy.”

"In this case it’s both.”

It’s the fact that he says the things with such a lack of expression that really speaks to you.

The trees begin to part way, until you two approach a tall cliffside overlooking a few more miles of woods. Centered in the middle was a large compound, completely fenced with three separate gates. The lights from the buildings below shine like a beacon in the dark. Once near the edge, you both use the scopes on your rifles to take a closer look at what you’re dealing with on the ground level.

Two guards watch the East gate into the compound. No patrols, no heavy vehicles. Scarce amounts of men walk the perimeter, though the few that do are well armed. Those closer to the buildings don’t linger, either quickly exiting or entering the buildings. Eventually your scope stops on a one story building towards the center of the compound. Composed with concrete, it has all sorts of wires and power boxes littering the walls, including a small satellite dish stuck out atop the roof.

“I’ve got eyes on Site Delta,” you say to Ghost.

Ghost keeps his eyes on the compound, reaching for his comms. “Shadow-1 this is Ghost. How copy?”

“This is Shadow-1, I read you,” Graves says over the mics.

“We’ve reached the East end of the compound, we're standing by on a nearby cliffside. Got a pretty good view of the place.”

“How’s it looking?” the commander asks.

“They’re down to a skeleton crew,” the lieutenant answers. “Any more men are inside the buildings.”

“Copy that, L.T. We’re about four clicks from our dropoff area. Stand-by for now ‘til we give word for you to move in. Expect a signal in fifteen minutes sharp.”

“The signal better be loud,” you joke into the mic. You couldn’t help it.

“You know how I like it, Songbird.”

You most certainly did.

“Rog’,” the lieutenant cuts in. “Out here.”

The comms shut off, and the silence is brought to the forefront once more. The two of you take post on the ridge of the cliffside, lying beside a long rock which made for good cover. Ghost took position next to you, though he kept a notable amount of space between you two. Both your rifles rest on the rock, continuing to keep watch on the compound below.

You observed the compound curiously, taking multiple mental notes. The longer you watch the place, the more you start to think there might not be anything down there. Too few guards. Unless they were really good at keeping a low profile, it just didn’t make sense to have so little men guarding the place if they had anything worth a damn in there. 

“What do you think we’ll find down there?” you ask.

Ghost takes a second to respond. “Intel.”

You’re not sure what you expected.

"Intel on what though."

"That's what we're here to find out," he said bluntly. "Have you forgotten the briefing already?"

At this point he was being this way on purpose. You don't reply. Only for a second. Before another question pulls out of you. It’s a dumb question, but you’ve got time to burn, and you found the lieutenant fun to poke at.

“You think we’re alone out here?” 

“Do you always ask so many questions?”

“Do you always not answer them?”

“Only yours.”

“So that one you answer.”

“You catch on quick.”

You pout to yourself, thankful that he was too busy looking through his scope to see you acting rather childishly. It's become instinctive. 

Sometimes it felt all you could be was playful and teasing. You've seen the power in playing the flirt. In that role, there's control. Any other and you risked being walked all over, taken advantage of, or simply ignored. You wouldn’t be here if you were meek, and no one recognized you outside of your delicately crafted façade. Playing the extravert meant others grew used to you this way. 

And when people get comfortable, they make mistakes. Pieces slip out. 

SNAP!

A twig somewhere a few yards into the surrounding woods breaks. You and Ghost both instinctively turn to the source of the sound, aiming your rifles. Neither speak, becoming one with your environment, as you both listen closely. Leaves blow in the wind, distant sounds from the compound behind you continue. The seconds creep by and not another sound is heard.

“We may have found an answer to one of your questions, lieutenant,” Ghost said suddenly.

“Let’s hope it’s not a cougar,” you say.

“Agreed.”

Some levity returned between you. You lower your rifle, turning your attention back to the compound once you’ve deducted that nothing is coming. You don’t look, but you hear Ghost do the same, listening to his rifle settle against the cold rock, as he sighs to himself.

It isn't until you take a glance up when you notice the sky once more. You’re taken away by it. From the cliffside, the stars shine at their brightest, visible without all the tall tree branches obstructing your view. The tiny white specks above you shine like spilt glitter. The air is cool this high above, clear, sifting through your lungs as smooth as a cold glass of water.

You look above yourself in awe. Who’s to say when you’ll see something like this again.

“It’s quite beautiful out tonight,” you say.

“Good for a walk.”

"Mm," you sigh. “You like going on walks, lieutenant?”

Ghost is quiet. 

Maybe you do ask a lot of questions. Embarrassment washes over you suddenly, and you let your mind run for a second, as you let the first thought that surfaces leave your mouth. “I'm sorry.”

More seconds of silence pass, and you’re prepared to brush this under the rug. But then you hear Ghost speak.

“Walks can be nice. On occasion.”

You’re not sure why he replied to you. Maybe he felt bad. But he did answer your question this time. You look over to him, seeing his profile, white mask glinting in the moonlight. He’s as still as a statue and as cold as winter, but you knew if you spoke now he was indeed listening.

That was a good sign.

“Canary, this is Shadow-1, do you copy?”

Right on cue.

“Shadow-1, this is Canary. I read you.”

“We’ve landed at the LZ. Preparing to launch the signal. Be ready.”

“Copy that.”

You two look through your scopes back down at the compound, waiting for this supposed signal. They’d only said it would be a distraction in the briefing room, though you were reluctant to see what that distraction would be.

"Time to prove your worth, Canary."

Ghost's voice came out of nowhere. You look over to him, seeing the man continuing to keep his eyes forward, acting like he hadn't just said that to you. You make sure to scoff loud enough for him to hear.

"Try and keep up, lieutenant."

"Should be easy enough."

This guy.

"You don't like me much, do you Ghost?"

"I don't dislike you."

So he was feeling your banter. You can't help but smirk to yourself, when you’re eyes are suddenly pulled away by a distant flash.

BOOM!

Right then, you see a small explosion near the front of the compound.

The signal.

...Chapter Five Here!

[sarahlizziewrites]

Thank you @nofuckingideawhatsgoingon! From this prompt list. 5. reorganising the bookshelf/combining a book collection WIP: Til Death Do Us Part, 312 words TDDUP taglist (+/-): @vacantgodling, @imsoveryveryconfusedatlife, @mrbexwrites, @hippiewrites-deactivated2024022 (+/-)

“How did we end up with two copies of A Study in Scarlet?”

“One must be yours, Raj, dear.”

“No, no. You’re the one for detective novels. See? Here. Williamson Jones, Upper Sixth. And this one reads: ‘for Wills, Christmas 1934, love NC’. So they are both yours.”

“...if you bought me a book for Christmas that I already had a copy of from school, that’s hardly my fault, is it? QED.”

“Very well. Shall we get rid of one?”

“Absolutely not, give them here.”

“Hmm. Looks like we do each own a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray, though.”

“Christ. Do get rid of one of those. Wouldn’t want to be seen to be too much of a stereotype.”

“You have a copy of A Passage to India? Really?”

“What? It’s seminal.”

“If you insist. Look, we’re not doing a very good job of reducing the amount of books we own.”

“No, we’re not. What’s this? Why do we have a copy of Mrs Beetons?”

“That’s… strange. Is it not yours?”

“...I’m not precisely a housewife, Raj.”

“Perhaps it belonged to your mother.”

“My mother was about as much a housewife as Attila the Hun.”

“Well, erm. Let’s keep it. Just in case.”

“What? Why?”

“You never know when it might come in handy.”

“...”

“...”

“Raj?”

“Yes?”

“That’s your copy of Mrs Beeton’s, isn’t it?”

“Look, it has some good recipes! And I don’t see you complaining about my cooking.”

“No, nor do I complain about your ironing. Or your needlework.”

“Oh, shut it, you, or you’re getting it thrown at your head. See how big it is? I promise it’ll hurt.”

“Sorry, sorry. Ha, no, I am sorry. I do love your cooking. Please don’t stop feeding me.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t leave you to fend for yourself like that, you great dolt. Love you.”

“Love you too, Raj.”

[wordslikesilver]

Ashen Promise

Our bed is soft like warm ash. I stare up at the ceiling, wishing for your hands to paint my skin with the fire-snow we lie on. I want to be tattooed with the pressure of the hand on my breast. Ashes fall from my hair when the sweat has dried. The room smells of sex. Of us. We can wait a little bit longer before we get up again. I haven’t finished yet. Memorizing your face. Your every scar, bone and treasured curve. If I try hard enough, if I spend long enough pressing the colours of your soul into mine, will they stain? Wherever I end up next, can I take you with me? Leave a mark on my neck right where it tastes the best. Burn it deep into my skin, love. Crumble me between your fingers and press my ashes to the blood on your lips. Grant me that single, harmless touch and I’ll get up from long-cold cinder to flame-tongue your skin. Hold me well. Your touch defines the boundaries of my existence. There’s simply nothing out there, outside your hands. Give to me a rune, my love. A rune of your home, to carve into my door and all over my ribs. Show me the end. Bring me a little death each night for dreaming and hold my hand while we sleep.

I’m so tired, darling. I wanna rest like ashes on your skin.

In the bathroom, I sit for your clippers. I’m not a woman who kneels, but this feels close. I gaze long into your eyes while you groom your wife, revelling in my vain indulgence and guilty pleasure. I truly am a selfish woman. Asking you to listen to me sing. Asking to hear you sing. To sit by and partake as my audience, my loving prisoner to my practice. You feed me love like you feed me food, I want to beg you for seconds. I want more dinners together, served with potatoes and soy; to steal more of your attention and the last grain of rice. I want another bowl of soup and hope that I can be just as filling. I want to be wanted. And then keep asking for more. Asking you to draw me. My body, my face, I can’t help how much I love being your muse. I get to see how I am seen in the eyes of my lover and be moved by the tidal stroke of graphite. I feel real when I look down at the page. I wonder if it’s all too much. If I’m too much. If I’m loving you wrong or making you feel neglected. Am I just as filling? You rest on top of me after telling me to undress, skin to skin, heat to heat, and loose a lovely sigh. “There’s my wife,” you whisper, the smile in your cheeks felt clear upon my breast. I am loved with a tenderness only faith could fathom.

I’m so hungry, dearest. May I please have more?

You saw me. Did you realize? Do you know what it did when I stripped off my flesh, cracked open my bones and showed you my sins caked in marrow, only to watch you drink them one by one? I bet they tasted like rotten apples. But you drank them all. You don’t even eat meat. But you held the bone between your teeth and told me to stay. Our bones were touching. I saw myself as a monster and our bones were touching. It shattered me. How could I ever be the same after that? I handed you matches to burn me alive and stood patiently against a stake. But you struck one against my ribs instead and held it softly to the horizon, right where the sky kisses the earth, ‘til the night began to glow. You used a match to break the dawn. What a terrible light it was that filled my archways of bone and ribbon. I wasn’t supposed to come back. How did you bring me back? The single most terrifying part of it all is not that it happened, of course. It’s how easily you do it again and again, no matter how broken I become. You are the hope in the box. The kiss upon my tears as I grieve into the earth, the ash, the dust. “The long night will pass, but I will not,” you whisper with your hands. You beckon for the sun to rise so I lift my head and touch your heavens.

I’m so cold, sunshine. Or maybe I just can’t take the yearning.

I will bury you first. For all the gardens you will attend to, all the earth you will hold and all the life you will sow with seed and rain, I will attend to the dying. Long before I met you, I felt that in another life I’d be an undertaker. Caring for graves and ghosts and grief with all the love in my heart. A beekeeper who makes candles for the dead and honey for the living. I think a lot about death, for someone as young as I am. There’s such a cold beauty in its cycle. Lovely, if you’re not a part of it. Beautiful, if you’ve no heart to break. It’s so unlike you. Sweet little you, as gentle and warm as sunlit spring-fall. Teach me all you can of your hair and skin. Leave me your paintings and the yarn. I will comfort myself in the softness of a life built together until the day comes when I join you in the urn. I’ll get lonely, without you. You’re the one soul I’ve loved that would choose me, every time, in every life. But for that alone, I would live. No matter how far you’ve gone, no matter how long it will take, I will walk this earth til I am with you again in your garden and you will never live a day without your love. This is the gift I give with this poem. I will bury you first.

I’m so anxious, fruitbat. I wanna hug you with my lungs.

You said once that you worried I might run out of words one day. That I’ll run out before we can say our vows. Such a lovely, silly thing to think, really. That the affections I express are so constant there’ll be nothing left, in time. Thirty days, the eighteenth, the next, devoted to you. Word after word, I breathe to a sequence, repeating over and over til they spill from the spout the way it feels they should. I lay claim to no meter nor talent with rhyme, but I know when it feels just right in my heart. I can keep writing, if I just keep listening. If I just keep falling in love with you, each and every day, I know there’ll always be more. This is my performance of devotion. Witness my ritual and let it be a gift I can lay with reverence at your feet. I can’t make much, you see. My hands aren’t the steadiest and I’m not the most patient. But I can weave. I can dance. I can rub oil on my robes, drop to my knees and tell you a million other ways I’ll touch the words, “I love you.” I can lie. I can say that I’ll never run out. That as long as you’re with me, I’ll find new ways to write it. Wouldn’t it be lovely? If I wrote so much you didn’t notice when I start over, since once could never be enough?

I’m so loved, my love. How could just once ever be enough?

[confetti-cupcake]

Hi! Can I ask about — til death do us part? Thank you!

Thanks for the ask, Rae! ❤️ Sorry I'm just getting to this now! I love murder mysteries, and I thought it would be really fun to write a Buddie fic with that kind of backdrop. The fic is a combination of perhaps my favorite murder mystery ever written And Then There Were None and the reality show Whodunnit. It takes place early in season 2 during that weird time where Buck and Eddie are friends, but not quite best friends yet. Essentially they're given an award for pulling the grenade out of Charlie's leg, and part of that award is an all-expenses paid vacation at a mysterious mansion. So they decide to go and — dun, dun dun — murder ensues! There's a killer among them, who plans to take out the honorees (who are all OCs I've created — no one beloved is dying here!) one-by-one. Eddie and Buck have to solve the murders and unmask the killer, as well as figure out the mysterious throughline connecting the invitees, before they end up as victims themselves.

...

“We’ve arrived, sir.”

Eddie blinks once. Then again. He runs a hand down his face, as if it’ll wipe away the drowsiness clinging behind his eyes, thick like maple syrup. 

He’s not sure at what point during the drive he fell asleep. He remembers a stretch limo pulling up to his apartment, with a real-life, well-dressed chauffeur in the driver’s seat, complete with pristine white gloves and a flat cap. He remembers kneeling down to hug Christopher goodbye, pressing a kiss to his hair, hoping it would communicate how sorry he was to be leaving him. Again. It had to be some time after he’d settled into his padded seat and fastened his seatbelt, when he’d been offered a flute of champagne by that posh British accent. 

“Flute of champagne, sir?”

Eddie still can’t wrap his head around the formality of it all. He’s not opposed, necessarily. But the driver probably uses it to make the people he makes a living driving around feel important. It just makes Eddie feel old. 

The point is, everything after that is fuzzy. Which means he’s been out a while. An embarrassingly long time, if they’ve made it to their destination already. 

Maybe Abuela was onto something when she’d said he’d been working too hard.

[sen-no-kotowari]

PGR Noan Character Profile

Good day and I'm back with some good news! The formatting plug-in I use is back to normal so everything should look the same like before. Aside from that, I will be posting back-to-back character profiles over the next few days and the first one up the bater is Noan's! You can learn more about Noan under the cut down below!

Voice Line Data

Motion Voice Lines

Lobby Voice 1

Noan: I passed nearby the Arts Association while walking around the other day. If there comes a time when peace will be upon us and an Arts Association is built on Earth, would people who love to draw be able to feed themselves? ...I see. That'd be wonderful.

Lobby Voice 2

Noan: What do you think of having a war memorial on the plaza? ...Huh? What do I think about it? I believe the people in this era making the most of their lives are just as awe-inspiring. Perhaps it's because I've seen too many death that I strongly believe more than ever living in itself is...incredible.

Lobby Voice 3

Noan: (Paints something) ........Hm? Oh, I've been painting a picture with the paintbrush you left. It's nothing fancy, just a simple drawing of a sunflower. If I told you I drew this while thinking of you, would you believe me?

Raise Affection Level

Noan: If I tell you that I want to become closer to you... what will you do?

Repetitive Taps

Noan: What's wrong? No need to be frantic. I'll be right by your side.

Log-In

Noan: Welcome back, Commander. I've been waiting for you.

Online for a Long Time

Noan: Wait a second, let me check your eyes. ...Hrm, now open your mouth. What time did you sleep yesterday? ...(Sigh) Really now...

AFK

Noan: I don't know if you're asleep or you're working hard... Well, maybe it's not so bad, getting to see your back like this.

Shake

Noan: Wha—! Are you okay?! Did you trip?

Offline for a Long Time

Noan: Showing up just now, did you oversleep? Were you having a dream of a calm and harmonious world? If that was a blissful dream, then you should've dreamed a little while longer. Don't worry, I'll continue to wait for you here 'til you show up.

Introduction and Formation

Structure Acquired

Noan: Hello there, Commander. Allow me to reintroduce myself. My name's Noan, that is my real name. Pleased to make your acquaintance.

Level Up

Noan: I have to spare no effort if I want to grow as a person.

Advancement

Noan: Thank you. Does this mean you've acknowledged me?

Model Improvement

Noan: Looks like the things I can do for others have increased yet again. Thank you.

Skill Upgrade

Noan: I'll continue to hone these skills until the day I put them to rest.

Equipment

Noan: This weapon... Hmmm, what should I call it?

Add in Team

Noan: Perhaps I should be grateful to you, who put your faith in me.

Assign as Captain

Noan: You're making me the captain? Yeah, I think I can do it. Leave it to me.

Mission Accomplished

Noan: Okay, mission complete. Do we have anything else to do?

Daily Small Talks

Voice Line 1

Noan: Ever since I left City Number 075, I've been staying at Oblivion's base. I wonder if Watanabe's doing well. I'd like to go meet up with him if there's a chance.

Voice Line 2

Noan: Lee sometimes has this resolute look in his eyes... It's as if he had already made peace. Recently, he— ...Nevermind, forget I said anything. It seems like it's something he wishes to keep to himself.

Voice Line 3

Noan: How have I been lately? Maybe I'll tell you a little secret of mine. I'm actually a super Eden-class ambassador. Since both my conversational skills and presentation skills are perfect, I was able to make friends in Eden and also fit in right away.

Voice Line 4

Noan: My past? You've seen plenty of vagabonds who lost their hometown, right? I'm also a part of those vagabonds. There's nothing special about it.

Voice Line 5

Noan: I've heard from Commander Simon that you were an alumnus who graduated as the top student of FOS Military Academy, right? What kind of things do they teach during class in school? ...Most of the schools on Earth were closed down. It makes you wonder—how many people born in this era were able to receive proper education in their life?

Voice Line 6

Noan: I passed nearby the Arts Association while walking around the other day. If there comes a time when peace will be upon us and an Arts Association is built on Earth, would people who love to draw be able to feed themselves? ...I see. That'd be wonderful.

Voice Line 7

Noan: Ah, that's right. I'm done reading the books you've told me about. Do you have other books you can recommend to me? I want to try reading a variety of books more. The library's just around the corner plus I also have a wonderful guide who'll give me a tour.

Voice Line 8

Noan: The starry sky isn't the only thing that shines in the darkness. Even if the small glowing lights around us aren't as bright as the North Star, they emit a faint light with everything they have.

Voice Line 9

Noan: Everyone used to admire stories about heroes saving the world when they were little, right? But when they grew up, they knew that those are just fictional stories, nothing more—no matter how much you do your best, you can't change the world around you alone. That's why... I'm glad that we both could do our very best here.

Voice Line 10

Noan: I don't regret rejecting the offer of becoming an Ascendant, even if it meant I'd accept how ordinary I am. I would be betraying my heart if I did. Don't worry. I already made up my mind from the moment I told you the name "Noan," no matter what may happen.

Voice Line 11

Noan: You always devote yourself to either listening to other people's worries or what they feel deep down, just like the gentle protagonists from the stories I've read... But why don't you try asking someone for some advice once in a while? I fear you might break someday if you always keep your worries to yourself.

Voice Line 12

Noan: What do you think of having a war memorial on the plaza? ...Huh? What do I think about it? I believe the people in this era making the most of their lives are just as awe-inspiring. Perhaps it's because I've seen too many death that I strongly believe more than ever living in itself is...incredible.

Voice Line 13

Noan: I look forward to the day this world overcomes the harsh winter and welcomes the tender spring... If you also share the same sentiment as I do, shall we make a promise to each other? Of course, I'd want you to be included in that future.

Voice Line 14

Noan: (Paints something) ........Hm? Oh, I've been painting a picture with the paintbrush you left. It's nothing fancy, just a simple drawing of a sunflower. If I told you I drew this while thinking of you, would you believe me?

Voice Line 15

Noan: I don't regret the things I've done in the past. I've used the grief I experienced as a catalyst to move forward without ever denying myself. ...For a brighter tomorrow free from strife, I shall give everything I have head-on so that we won't lose any more people we hold dear.

Raise Affection Level

Voice Line 1

Noan: (Chuckle) You sure have a lot of friends.

Voice Line 2

Noan: It'd be a waste to gift that to me. How about giving it to someone more worthy than me?

Voice Line 3

Noan: I'm happy enough that you're standing in front of me without your guard up.

Voice Line 4

Noan: Thank you... Are you just this kind to anyone you've met?

Voice Line 5

Noan: What are your hobbies? Ehehe, getting to know each other is the first important step in becoming friends.

Voice Line 6

Noan: Should I draw a picture for you in return as thanks? I'm kidding. This present you gave me is far more valuable than any of my drawings.

Voice Line 7

Noan: Despite the countless despair and spite this world has, you still make sure to treat others kindly. You truly are amazing.

Voice Line 8

Noan: I'm fine with any notebook and pen. I feel like it'd be wasteful if I use such a good quality paintbrush for this.

Voice Line 9

Noan: Are we... friends already? Ah, I want to be your friend, your comrade. And from here on out, I wish to stay by your side... That's what I feel.

Voice Line 10

Noan: I don't have much to give back to you in return, but... Please don't hesitate to tell me if there's something I can do for you.

Voice Line 11

Noan: Can I... come meet you again tomorrow?

Voice Line 12

Noan: Thank you so much... truly. It's not just the presents you've given me. I'm thankful for you and the words you said to me back then.

Voice Line 13

Noan: We're still amidst the harsh winter... But whenever you're with me, it feels like it becomes less cold than before.

Voice Line 14

Noan: If I tell you that I want to become closer to you... what will you do?

Voice Line 15

Noan: It's enough for me that we're aiming for the same goal and being able to fight alongside you, but that doesn't mean I'll stop longing for you... (Chuckle) Commander?

Voice Line 16

Noan: Can I take it that you're okay being this close to each other, Commander...?

AFK

Voice Line 1

Noan: Your sleepiness is also making me feel sleepy, hrm... Even though I already don't need to sleep anymore...

Voice Line 2

Noan: It's been pretty quiet, but are you busy with something else?

Voice Line 3

Noan: I don't know if you're asleep or you're working hard... Well, maybe it's not so bad, getting to see your back like this.

Voice Line 4

Noan: Are you asleep? I want to check up close if you're sleeping, but just in case I might wake you up... Yeah, I should stop here.

Voice Line 5

Noan: ♬~Our wishes will outlive us~♪ The light you shine is gentle as you are~♬[1]

Online for a Long Time

Voice Line 1

Noan: Having a lot of missions to deal with seems tough. Is there something I could help you with?

Voice Line 2

Noan: Oh-kay, let's confirm if you're still wide awake. What do you see on this ink blotch? ...It's some sort of abstract matter? Uhh-huh...

Voice Line 3

Noan: You're complaining that your neck hurts because you're always looking downwards. ...Come on, let's do some light stretches. Relax your muscles, and move around your head and shoulders.

Voice Line 4

Noan: Wait a second, let me check your eyes. ...Hrm, now open your mouth. What time did you sleep yesterday? ...(Sigh) Really now...

Voice Line 5

Noan: You've sacrificed your health just so you can finish all your work. I doubt you'd even listen to me, but... Why not rest even just for a few minutes?

Log-In

Voice Line 1

Noan: Morning. Do we have a mission today?

Voice Line 2

Noan: Commander, here's the list of missions for today. If we're all set, let's head out.

Voice Line 3

Noan: Morning, Commander Simon told me to pass along this message to you when I met him in front of the training room. Let's get along, he said.

Voice Line 4

Noan: I've been thinking it's about time you arrive here. I guess we're connected telepathically then?

Voice Line 5

Noan: You're back, Commander. I did several missions while you weren't here the past few days, but I knew I'd think about such a thought... "If only you were here," that is.

Voice Line 6

Noan: Welcome back, Commander. I've been waiting for you.

Voice Line 7

Noan: Did you sleep well last night? Your ability to focus would recede when you're tired, plus the people who care for you would be worried. Hm? Of course, I would be. I'm also one of those people.

Voice Line 8

Noan: Welcome back, Commander. I've been thinking about you. Oh, well you're not wrong that you're in front of me right now. Even so, I just couldn't help myself.

Offline for a Long Time

Noan: Showing up just now, did you oversleep? Were you having a dream of a calm and harmonious world? If that was a blissful dream, then you should've dreamed a little while longer. Don't worry, I'll continue to wait for you here 'til you show up.

Shake

Voice Line 1

Noan: Wha—! Are you okay?! Did you trip?

Voice Line 2

Noan: Stop it, my glasses are about to fall down... Wha- wait... Don't take off my glasses...!

Voice Line 3

Noan: Even if you do that, a coin won't come out from me.

Repetitive Taps

Voice Line 1

Noan: Hm? What the- (Sigh)... I already said I'm not hiding anything. Wait, this isn't a body inspection?

Voice Line 2

Noan: W-wait— th-that tickles! Aha-...Gee, that was unexpectedly childish of you. It's fine, I'll let this slide since I saw your smile.

Voice Line 3

Noan: What's wrong? No need to be frantic. I'll be right by your side.

Activity Task Full

Noan: Our activity level's at max level, let's take a small break. If you have other plans you want to do, shall I tag along?

Battle Dialogues

Battle Start/Character Switch

Noan: I fight so the plights and suffering in our lifetime will be kept at bay.

Voice Line 1

Noan: Let's reassess what their sins are.

Voice Line 2

Noan: This is how the "best duo" pairs up.

Voice Line 3

Noan: Tear through the darkest night.

Ultimate Skill

Noan: Amidst the depths of winter will genuine springtide flourish!

Light Damage

Noan: I'm fine.

Heavy Damage

Noan: No... I mustn't fall here...

Incapacitated

Noan: I'm sorry... for leaving you all alone...

Friend Support

Noan: I don't plan to make you suffer any longer.

QTE

Noan: Aim for a swift victory.

Battle End

Noan: It's over, let's go home now.

Structure Documentation

Document Detail 1

Noan's appearance has established the fact Ascendants can turn humans into Structures. He is currently under surveillance in Eden for associating with an Ascendant. Although he doesn't seem to be disgruntled by the constant surveillance, research, and cooperation with his examinations, most of the "people who know his situation" feels somewhat lonely since Noan acts courteously as if he's keeping them at arm's length.

Document Detail 2

Noan himself named his model "Sojourn." He took inspiration from the time a young boy had preached to him after he left the Azil—"the world around us is a sojourn and all the sorrow they've experienced will one day return to the earth." The world around us is a large place of dwelling. Yes, even this very body he has. He has begun his new journey to the final destination of his life.

Document Detail 3

After he had fitted one of his coatings, Noan was sorely unsure whether or not he'd dye his hair in a rainbow color. However, everyone in Barometz Platoon strongly opposed it and even received harsh criticism from Arts Association Chairman Allen, saying it was "an abstract expression." The white streak of hair strands offset by his raven-colored hair expresses his resolution.

Document Detail 4

Even though Noan could deftly master a weapon and can write in either his left or right hand, he isn't particularly good at handling heavy weapons. It's not because of how incompetent he is, but because he's proficient in keen and nimble combat. The blueprint for his Energy Blade is a gift he received from Rachel on his 17th birthday. The other blade he wields on his other hand is something he had been using ever since he joined the porter company. Until Noan obtained his Energy Blade, his weapons used to be a blade and a gun.

Document Detail 5

He is hardly proficient in long-range weapons. Even the accuracy of the gun Noan previously used wasn't high. When you'd think he missed the mark, he would actually hit the vital target by fluke. There was a time when the bullet Noan fired pierced 3 windows, hitting the billboard across the building, and it fell on the leader of a burglary group.

Document Detail 6

He was able to escape an Ascendant's interferences and hallucinations alone. According to later observations, it was acknowledged that the stability in his Sea of Consciousness allows him adaptability toward Specialized Models. The Science Council still hasn't concluded whether this characteristic was something Noan originally had or was the result of the Ascendant's interference.

Rumors and Secrets

Secret 1 Has read a considerable amount of manga in a stack room. Noan seems to be receptive to any work, possibly because there are also peculiar plots among those he'd read. He would thoroughly read a manga title until the end, especially titles recommended to him by his friends.

Secret 2 To secure some space in his bag, Noan left a manga with a pear blossom between its pages at City Number 075. It was the Gray Raven Team who found that manga when they had visited for a survey. Noan retrieved that manga after that, but he lost it when he was heavily injured in City Number 210.

Secret 3 Noan still occasionally dreams of his past up until now. With how he is now, however, he is distinctly self-aware that it's all a dream and immediately wakes up—because in that dream, there isn't a single scratch on the firefly in his hands.

Secret 4 Although Noan had learned countless skills to survive, the only exception to that is cooking—up until he became a Structure, cooking delicious food wasn't a necessity for him. Now so long as he has a recipe to follow, Noan could cook the dish to a certain extent. Since he frowns upon ingredients going to waste, he inattentively ate the scrap parts of the ingredients on one occasion.

Secret 5 Whenever Noan is at a loss for what to do, he would tell a joke with a serious look on his face and divert the subject matter. He would often make his facial expressions overly serious so the other person would take them seriously. Noan would most likely say "maybe I'll tell you a little secret of mine" whenever he would tell an outlandish joke in the beginning, but he'd immediately give an explanation for his actions if the other person does take it seriously. If he manages to get by each time, strictly speaking.

Secret 6 Noan was once praised by his colleagues in the porter company for being skilled at consoling people and he would usually be the person they rely on to take care of their hammered colleagues at their drinking parties. Although he doesn't drink alcoholic beverages himself, it doesn't mean he wouldn't help them out or ditch out on the people who need someone could lend an ear to them.

Secret 7 Noan isn't good at handling people who are crying—he also can't tell if the other person is actually crying or shedding crocodile tears. To appear calm in front of a crying person even though he's panicking internally, Noan will probably almost nod to every request he generally won't agree on.

Secret 8 He wants to be reincarnated as a seagull in his next life, yet he has never seen either the ocean or a seagull before he became a Structure.

Secret 9 Noan was infamous as a pigheaded person in Passenger Car N until he was 13 years old. Because he recurrently used to incite a reckless feud, he was referred to as a "prickly boy"[2] by the people in that car. The person in question, however, has neither seen a chestnut's burr nor a person getting stabbed by it so he never knew they were referring to him.

Secret 10 Even though he isn't particularly nit-picky when it comes to colors, Noan prefers shades of white that give off a pure and clean feel—it ranges from white fabric, white bird feathers, clear skies, a pristine piece of paper, and so on... But the only thing he hates among the pure white things is snow, especially an endless snowfield.

Secret 11 While he was easy to get along with and had hit off with many friends, Noan had very few close friends he cherished in all sincerity. He's somewhat dense when it comes to emotions and is constantly passive, as he never expressed his desires or his eagerness to someone he was just recently acquainted with—he's the type of person who'd like to know the other person well on top of closing the distance between them.

Secret 12 He would frankly express his emotions to close friends. When the other person shows an interesting reaction to his words, Noan will try to pull a prank using that word. Despite being aware that he still has a childish side, he doesn't plan on hiding this side of himself entirely from his close friends.

This is in reference to the Surviving Glimmer's main theme song.

This may possibly be a reference to the manga "Igakuri-kun" (Igakuri-kun: Young Judo Master) written by Fukui Eiichi.

[shameboree]

Kels. Im begging. I need to know more abt Fallon and Flynn. Please. I am obsessed. And I am STARVED. PLEASE please pretty please.

they are simply two regular trust fund babies very much in love with each other who are completely normal about it 💖 fallons take on Til Death Do Us Part is if flynn ever wanted to leave her shed ruin his life and have him killed, and if SHE ever wanted to leave HIM shed ruin his life and have him killed. flynn meanwhile would kill himself rather than even consider leaving her and if she tried to leave him hed romantically murder/suicide

they can appear cute and wholesome on acct of they are gross and like to do wholesome seeming things like hold hands, but theyre both Unwell WEIRDOS at their core. fallon both feeds into and manages flynns neuroses in a way that has him Catastrophically Obsessed with her (a normal thing to be) which she has trained for her whole life on acct of him being so similar to her brother (also a normal thing to be)

every day they are having some sort of petty conflict, like flynn being an uptight foodie and fallon bullying him by eating mayo out the jar with pats of butter until he has a meltdown over how shes going to die of CAD. really fallon is just always bullying him or they are being weirdly competitive about meaningless things. flynn can and for sure DOES just physically remove her from situations by tossing her over his shoulder on acct of she is so pocket size tho so he has at least some way of retaliating against her constant harassment

b4 they get together flynn is like a classic type Deeply Dramatique Silent Pining guy vs fallon is the Hysterical Meltdown type gal with a HEAVY side of Rapidly Cycling Thru The Stages Of Grief. neither of them know how to have feelings casually and are All In sort of ppl. theyre very regular

[so-many-fandoms-here]

I‘ve written so many Levi content on Wattpad so I figured Imma translate it and post it here too!

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistake you notice)

• Characters: Levi Ackerman, fem!Reader

• Genre: angst

• Warnings: death

'Til death do us part

𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧

-Levi’s pov-

I don‘t know how many hours have passed since I sat down on the chair beside the bed in the infirmary. Y/n, usually busy looking after her patients around this time, laying in front of me, heavily injured and way beyond weak.

It’s only a matter of time until she succumbs to her injuries. Until she succumbs to my failure. If I would have been a bit faster, she wouldn’t be laying here. Instead she would run around the infirmary like a wild goose, cursing the fact that she is the only one who looks that we have enough bandages on stock.

A smile creeps on my face at the thought. She’s always on the run, looking after everyone and everything and forgetting herself during it. She always makes sure that everyone is okay before she looks after herself.

She always made sure. Now she will never be able again to look after her loved ones. Never again will she draw smiles on everyone’s faces just because of her presence. It was hard to not like her. Especially for me.

„I can’t lose you“, I whisper. „Not you.“ My hand traces over her cheek. In books they always say that it looks like they’re sleeping peacefully, but that’s not true. At least not if you know better. It’s like I have the wounds myself. It’s like my organs are ruptured and I can feel it bleeding into my abdomen.

I was always aware that this could happen one day. When I first kissed her, when I lay awake at night beside her, when I married her; it was always in my mind and I tried to prepare myself for that day.

But let me tell you one thing: you can not prepare yourself for this pain, nor can you explain it. And you will never ever get used to it.

My eyes wander to the ring on my finger. The memory of that day used to make my heart explode with joy, but now it explodes with sorrow and feeds my eyes with more tears to shed.

Suddenly another memory pops into my mind. I had a panic attack after we returned from a mission. Y/n had her arms wrapped around me and rocked me like I was a baby.

„Shhh“, she hushed, still smelling like the horse stable she came out just ten minutes before she found me, sitting on the ground and shaking like a leaf. „Please don’t leave me“, I whimpered, being sure she will be gone as soon as I just blinked.

„I won’t“, she had reassured me. „I will never leave or hurt you. I will never do anything against your will. Neither as a soldier, nor as your wife.“

Silently, I let my tears stream down my face, dripping onto my clothes while I watch Y/n‘s chest rise with every weak breath she takes.

It feels like she is waiting for me to let her go. She waits for her last order from her captain. My teeth bury themselves into my lower lip as nausea crawls up my throat.

„You’re in pain. I can feel it.“ My voice breaks during the sentences. It would be selfish from me, trying to keep her here. When someone deserves peace, then Y/n.

„It destroys me“, I continue. „Because I love you more than anything. Hell- I didn’t even thought I would be capable of loving someone so much, but here I am. I swore that I will love you until death do us part, but believe me: it takes more than that for me to stop loving you.“

I stand up from the chair, just to sit down on the bed again. The next words that are about to leave my lips are heavy like rocks, and they hurt so bad that I physically feel them in my body.

„You served well, soldier.“ I take Y/n‘s face into my hands. „And I promise your death will not have been in vain.“ Tears are falling again. „Rest in piece my angel. I love you.“

I plant one last kiss on her chapped, but perfect lips, then I feel how her chest rises and falls for one last time.

The silence is louder than anything I’ve heard before and it feels like it’s pulling on my eardrums. And while I thought there’s nothing left to break, I feel the splinters that are left from my heart break again.

[hellcatinnc]

Kamigami No Asobi - Hades Review

Includes Spoilers 18+

So Hades is one of my favorites from the anime so I couldn't wait to dive into his story. That being said know going fourth his story is sad and filled with angst. This doesn't mean there isn't somewhat of a happy ending. I mean don't get me wrong I think I always knew that since he was the god of the underworld that it only made sense that she would live in the underworld. However I was hoping for something similar to Loki where he gave up being a god but guess thats the difference when he is a main god not a more side god like Loki is.

He is grumpy and definitely comes off as a tsundere however he is more of a sad boy than a tsundere. When you realize he is used to keeping a wall up to not let people in. This isn't so he doesn't get hurt but so that he doesn't hurt others. He knew from the start that his darkness could consume anyone if they got to close to him. He has such a sad story he really is a sad boy that you just feel like you want to save just like Yui does.

The fact that even through him pushing people away when Yui needed him most he jumped in and saved her from drowning. I feel like this is when the feelings started at this point and grew from here on out. The way he looks at her from there on is a little bit lighter he still is prickly and tries his best to stay as far away as he still can she won't let him.

Little by little he lets her in and starts sharing things he loves with her. Before long they had gone on a date and he was such a gentleman. He put a cloth down on the ground so she could sit on it without getting dirty and cold. I never thought he would be like that but that melted my heart. Then he shares all this love of the stars with her and he ends up holding her in his arms as he shows her these things. It was so sweet when he even asked if he could hold her longer. He never did anything inappropriate and respected her yet cuddled her still. It was like he really needed that closeness he didn't have any other way.

He let down his guard even more when she started feeding him his favorite foods he was already on his way to falling for her I think even before he knew. He was just the cutest when you saw him caring however this didn't last long. It was a slow burn to even get him to that point and still you didn't hear him say I love you until the world seem to fall apart around them. He ends up leaving the world without telling her or anyone and Zeus sends him back this broke my heart. However I love Yui she was a bad ass she took on Zeus and practically called him out about not caring enough about Hades and then she told him he can send her to the underworld to save him. Surprisingly Zeus agreed and did so.

First of all before I go any further this mans god form is absolutely breathtaking, to be the king of the underworld who knew he would be so beautiful. Anyways this is where even in the happy ending it can be sad. Like one way about it he tells her he will go back with her but then pushes her out the door but tells her he loves he and he is doing this so she can be happy because thats what love is. Then he promises to protect her and he goes on to do so but of course when she goes back to her human world she no longer remembers him she is just in tears. I hated this outcome so went back and did it again. The I love you message and he wants her to be happy is the voice clip below you can even hear his love in his words.

Oh my though when you play the other route and you choose to stay there isn't anything he can do about it the doors have closed and you as Yui are stuck there forever now. Its so sweet because he tells you no matter what he will love you forever and eternity and that he will do anything he can to make her as happy as he can there. He calls her his bride and tells her that he will love her til death does them part. Its a sweet love confession and then when he kisses her omg you can hear the lips touch and smack and it becomes really hot really fast. I was so surprised like when he kisses Yui its like all his passion is all let go all at once as he kisses her over and over again. I feel like her sex life is getting ready to be pretty damn amazing if just that little bit of passion shows in kissing. Is it bad I feel like he is one that will go all night. Don't ask me why my mind went there its not my fault its his lol.

Honestly my overall opinion is it is a good route and Hades really deserves love but if I'm being honest I feel like based on Yui's personality and how full of life she is I feel like she would grow unhappy in the underworld and possibly end up regretting her descion. I feel like she would still love him and stand by him through it all but it would be happier for him than her and not even sure thats true cause he seems to feel her pain. That being said it is full of angst and I really wish I could say I see a better ending for him but he is the king of the underworld not like you can throws some sugar on things and him be human and ok to live a happy life on earth with her. Its worth doing just know that in my opinion he definitely would never be her true ending even if you wanted him to be.

[auraee]

- ℂ𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕕𝕤. -

ꕤ 𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖 ~ This little ditty was a result of a writing challenge that I've taken on with a good friend of mine! To write a brief passage based on a prompt, whether it was something from our list of pieces that were in progress or something comletely new! 'Clouds' was something that I had throught of a long time ago and added to my list of things to write, but kind of got buried under new shiny things🤣. So I decided to pay an homage to it and I aim to expand on it soon.

ꕤ Tagging ~ @potofstewie @kyojurosfirelilyy @mitsuris-big-boobies @comatosebunny09 @cherrykamado (I’m so sorry cherry about the late tag I didn’t check the tagging post I made while back properly😭)

ꕤ𝖧𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀!

I stared into the reflection and the other person seemed to do the same.

She looked just as pitiful as I did.

Along with it, a demon had almost frozen my heart. I didn’t have the time to give chase; it had incapacitated me before I had ever been given the chance.

I lay there on the pebble ridden forest floor.

Left alone to look at silver stars and knowledge that the wisps of death would eventually coil around my frostbitten limbs and like a sweet supple breeze, it would take me away. Needles of ice pierced my lungs, stemming down my body to form a thin layer of crystals of cold on my strengthless fingers.

Memories of that day, remained melded in me til this now.

My hair was dark, almost burnished brown, now from that attack had turned a ghostly white. It was a small price to pay for my relatively progressive recovery, but still… Who would’ve thought that I’d be this upset about the change in hair colour? Maybe because it wasn’t something I had consented to, perhaps.

Yes— it was probably that.

My hair was part of who I was, my hair is part of who I am, as silly as the others might think. With such simple change, I felt so lost. 

I stared at the woman in the reflection and she seemed to peer back. Though she didn’t look pitiful this time; a smile tugged at her plump rouge lips, having thought of what her love had said to her one day. It felt like so long ago. The way his eyes blazed with unyielding flames, brightening the darkest of caves. 

“Clouds add plenty to the skies above, on occasion providing us with temporary shade when the sun’s heat is too intense that day.” He grinned, taking my hands in his. “Dark clouds, you see, provide the world below with rain. Feeding plants, animals… even you and I in some way, _____.”

All I could was stare, my heart a flurry in the confines of my chest. I parted my lips to speak but nothing came from it.

He chuckled at my plight, leaving a tender fluttering kiss just above my brow.

“Tell me, my love. Can you not see the beauty in that?”

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- 𝔸𝕝𝕝 𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕘𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 -

❀ 𝔸𝕟 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕖 ⚘ ꕤ 𝕀𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 ⚘ ❁ 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕠𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕟

[artemis-pendragon]

For the chat thing a "a forgotten but unbroken promise to save each other always'

YES!! Such a good prompt!! You didn't specify a pairing for this one so like the gay little beast that I am I threw in a little Beauyasha for the sapphics amen 😎 hopefully that's okay!! 🖤💙

(this is for the game where y'all send me fanfic prompts, I feed them to ChatGPT, and then I take the cringiest part of the AI-written story and rewrite it lmao)

AI Excerpt:

"Don't worry, Yasha. We made a promise to each other a long time ago, and we're not going to break it now," she said, her voice full of determination.

Yasha looked up at her, a glimmer of hope in her dark eyes. "I remember that promise, Beau. Let's save each other," she replied, her voice soft but filled with conviction.

Together, they began to formulate a plan to escape. They knew it wouldn't be easy, but they were determined to keep their promise to each other. They managed to break free of their bonds and took out their captors one by one.

Rewrite:

"Hey, you remember what you said to me? When we did all the 'til death do us part' vows bullshit?" Beau said. A strand of loose hair stuck to the sheen on her forehead, tracing her glass-sharp features. Determination in every line, the taut flex of muscles under blue silk and gold-webbed bracers.

Yasha watched her. Redundant, because of course. When Beau was there, Yasha was watching her. A rule of the universe. Unbreakable as the words they'd said when they made their vows.

"Yes," Yasha said, voice soft like owl feathers hiding talons. "Saving you is saving me. That's what you said."

"Well, it's true," said Beau, and as always, despite the severity of their situation, she had the audacity to sound embarrassed. "It always was. Is. Will be."

Yasha smiled, corner of her mouth twitching up. Fondness, not mockery, but Beau was in a state, and she didn't want to make her feel bad for feeling. Beau felt so much, was so much. Was everything. "Can I suggest something?"

Beau cocked an eyebrow, tossing her head in a futile attempt to get the strand of hair to unstick from her skin. "I mean, yeah. My brain hasn't been working right since that asshole with the longsword knocked my skull in, so I was hoping you'd come up with something."

A flash of anger so pure and hot it burned a scar across Yasha's heart. "Thank you for the motivation," she murmured. In a flash of heat and electricity, Rage coursed through her and she ripped apart the ropes holding her hands as easily as a thread woven through a wolf's teeth.

"Thought that'd do it," said Beau, grinning, and jerked her head at her own bound hands. "Now do me."

"I think 'doing you' will have to wait, but good to know you like ropes," said Yasha, flashing her teeth in a sharp smile. See a chance, take it, that's what Beau always said. Beau was always a fan of dirty jokes.

Beau's grin grew and she bit her lip suggestively. "Y'know what? You're definitely onto something there. But let's kick these idiots' asses first."

As Beau held up her bound hands, Yasha reached down and untied them, tossing the ropes aside. Together they pushed out of the tent where they'd been held captive and launched themselves at their captors, gathered around the campfire outside.

The fight started and ended in a single round. Less than a minute and Beau and Yasha stood alone, surrounded by bodies. Yasha glanced around, locating the man with the longsword. Wordlessly she crossed to him, white wings unfolding, avenging angel unleashed. She grabbed him by the back of the neck, and lifted him. The man groaned. Yasha picked up his blade and dropped him onto it, shoving up as his body slid down. The groan gurgled into a scream, then cut off. Yasha dropped the body and the sword and turned back to Beau.

"Holy shit," said Beau. "Who says lightning never strikes twice." She grabbed Yasha's hand, tugging playfully at the strand of rope dangling uselessly from her wrist, and they started out together across the wastes toward the distant clouds lingering over the Ashkeeper Peaks.

[that-love-is-all-there-is]

angsty Christian yells at God

isn't faith supposed to feel like freedom, not a cage? then why does my heart rage against the bars in my chest, which burn and cut and bite, and all but bleed me out? where do I go to find out how to love You without craving death, Lord? where do I go to find You outside of this blindfold, these chains? I come to You each day in the communion I seek at the altar, in the communions I find in my life, only to find the chains tighter, only to find, like a vice the church closing its jaws round my mind, placing its lips on my heart. I pray, "O Jesus, Jesus, never let us part", but the more I open the door to try to let You in the more I find myself perishing, the less I understand how to love with a love that is big in a place that feels so small, how to let my spirit breathe, how to breathe at all. so tell me, Lord, who gives me life, tell me, Lord of Love-- send your blessing to me, send angels from above to refresh your fainting servant here in the garden of sorrow give me strength to face these things. help me face tomorrow and help me to see your law as freedom, help me see your law as love. I'm bit by the hand that feeds me You I'm bit by the hounds of heaven unchain me, heal me, and set me free, or despair will be my bread day and night and night and day 'til at last I die of want for the wine of joy which I hear they shall have in the paradise of heaven for the simple loving glance I was told would await me on my entrance