#we may need the extra in case something breaks
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justanechoflower · 3 months ago
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No bike but I found a wheel :3
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p0orbaby · 23 days ago
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👋🏻👋🏻👋🏻
May i request a blurb of reader who is the gf of Alexia and is also a baker and she is always baking more than necessary and forces Alexia and the barca team to eat all of them ...
Thank you
-
The smell of cinnamon, vanilla, and chocolate hangs in the air so thick it’s practically a fog. Alexia’s flat, usually pristine and minimalist, looks more like the aftermath of a Bake Off finale. Flour dusts every visible surface. Mixing bowls, spatulas, and piping bags have taken over the kitchen, creeping into the dining room. There’s even a smudge of frosting on the handle of the fridge, but you’ll wipe that later. Maybe.
Alexia had invited the team over for a low-key bonding evening—dinner, a couple of drinks, maybe some cards. You had other ideas.
“I just thought it’d be nice,” you’d said that morning, elbow-deep in dough, “to have a few little things for them to snack on”
Alexia had given you a look. The same look she’d given you after the sixth cake you’d made for her mum’s birthday. “Little things,” she repeated, sceptical.
“Just a couple of options,” you’d assured her.
Now, hours later, you’re carrying a tray piled high with lemon bars into the living room. The team is sprawled across Alexia’s sofa and chairs, clearly at home. Mapi and Ingrid are in a heated debate over Uno rules, Claudia is scrolling her phone, and Patri is valiantly attempting to play referee.
“Round three!” you announce cheerfully, placing the tray on the coffee table with a flourish.
Several heads turn, eyes widening at the sheer volume of baked goods.
“I thought round two was the end,” Ingrid mutters, though she’s already reaching for a bar.
“It’s never the end,” Alexia says, appearing behind you, arms crossed. Her voice is resigned, but there’s a glint of affection in her eyes.
You smile sweetly at her before turning to the group. “Try these—they’re gluten-free and vegan, in case anyone’s worried”
“Worried?” Patri says, picking one up. “I’m worried about needing to be rolled out of here”
Mapi snorts, shoving a whole bar into her mouth in one go. “It’s worth it,” she mumbles through a mouthful of lemon.
Alexia leans in, lowering her voice just for you. “You’re going to kill them, you know. Athletes can only take so much sugar”
“They’re fine,” you whisper back, dismissing her concern with a wave. “Besides, it’s not like you’re all training tomorrow”
“We are training tomorrow”
You blink, caught. “Oh. Well, they’re young, they’ll recover”
Alexia sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, but the small quirk of her lips betrays her. She’s used to this.
By the time you emerge with round four—a towering plate of chocolate chip cookies—Clàudia is lying on the floor, groaning dramatically.
“No more,” she says, holding up a hand like she’s warding off an attack.
“These are a classic,” you argue, placing the plate down anyway. “Everyone loves cookies”
Mapi groans but still takes one, breaking it in half and passing the other half to Ingrid. Patri looks like she’s considering whether she can fit another bite of anything into her stomach.
Alexia sits beside you, finally giving up on trying to manage the situation. “You’re relentless,” she says, but her tone is warm.
“I’m passionate,” you correct, leaning your head on her shoulder.
“You’re something,” she agrees, stealing a cookie for herself.
The team might be groaning now, but by the end of the night, they’re all cramming Tupperware full of leftovers to take home. You pretend not to see Alexia slipping them extra containers, but the smug smile she gives you after is impossible to miss.
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mellowyellow236 · 3 months ago
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The TWST boys write letters to Yuu/The Prefect!
All of them except for Ortho+Checka are meant to be interpreted as romantic, but many can be interpreted as platonic as well. The reader is gender-neutral, but more feminine adjectives will be used when referring to them. Characters will probably be a bit OOC.
Minor spoilers for their respective books in each section, but I try to keep it as spoiler-free as I can, except for who overbloted. If anyone has any questions or comments, please leave an ask or comment :) All are under the cut.
NRC:
Heartslabyul:  
Riddle Rosehearts - 
My dearest rose, 
You are the loveliest person I have ever known. It is a miracle that you chose to get to know me, and even more so after I hurt you and your friends so deeply. I have made many mistakes, but you, my rose, look past them. I understand that you may choose to go home one day, but even so... 
Please just give me a moment of your time, a fraction of your thoughts, and I’ll be satisfied. Any inch of you that I can get, I want, even if you still believe me a tyrant. If it pleased you- No, if it only made you look my way, I would gladly break any rule of the queen’s or my mother’s. Understand that, my rose, and I am sure you’ll know what remains unsaid in this letter. 
Yours Truly, 
Riddle Rosehearts 
Trey Clover - 
Prefect, 
Hello. I wanted to thank you, first and foremost, for helping out Heartslabyul so much. You’ve been a very good influence on Ace and Duece, and it’s nice to see Cater open up to someone. Not to mention, Riddle’s been improving every day. I can’t even describe how much you’ve helped me... I just hope you know that I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done. You’re welcome at Heartsabyul at any time. I have some donuts waiting for you if you want. 
From, 
Trey. 
Cater Diamond - 
Prefect, 
Heyyy! Whatcha doing right now? I’m sooooo happy that you came to NRC even if, like, all of the housewarden’s tried to ratio you. I do not subscribe to that, BTW. #NotCool, #Yikes-A-Tron. But,  like... On a more serious note, I am happy that I got to know you. It’s nice to have someone I can just be myself around. No drama, no expectations, just... Yeah. I know that you’re gonna leave at some point, and it’s almost a relief. You’re honest about it, which is something that many can’t say. 
Ugh, that was probs TMI! I’m not trying to trauma dump here, oops. There’s this cute cafe that opened up downtown, totally Magicam-worthy. You wanna meet up there sometime? 
- Cay-cay ♦️  
Ace Trapolla - 
Prefect!! 
I need your help! So, Trein’s got this super hard test coming up on Friday- Like, Riddle-got-a-99-last-year level of hard. Yeah, that’s without the extra credit, but STILL! That’s failure to the tyrant! So, you’ve got to come over to Heartslabyul right now and help me study. Pleaseeeee!!!! I’ll owe you one! 
Oh, and don’t bring Grim. Deuce’s also got plans, there’s no need to ask him. You know, in case that matters to you. 
See ya, 
Ace 
Deuce Spade - 
Dear Prefect, 
Hello, how are you doing? Can you believe that it’s already been so long since we became friends? When we broke that chandelier, I was ready to never talk to you again... But now look at us! I’m on my way to becoming an honor student, and you’re working on finding your way home! I’m happy that you’re going to be able to go soon, I know how bad it feels not to be able to see your family (and probably friends in your case) after so long away, but also sad that you’ll be leaving us. 
I’ve got it! Let’s get your ghost camera, and we’ll take lots of photos of us all over campus! Two of each, so that way no matter what, both of us will always remember what we went through together. That sounds like a good idea, right? 
From, 
Duece 
Savanaclaw: 
Leona Kingscholar - 
Herbivore, 
Hey. You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re stupid and impulsive and don’t know when to quit or give up. That’s why you keep looking for me in the botanical gardens, right? You just don’t know when to stop. I’m sure that you’ll realize I’m not worth your effort soon enough. But until then, you have to come to see me more often. You’re my pillow, I don’t get good enough sleep if you’re not there. 
I’m in the usual place. Get over here as soon as possible. 
- Leona 
Ruggie Bucchi - 
Hiya, Prefect... 
I’ve been thinking, and you should let me come over to Ramshackle and fix the place up for you. No upfront cost, of course, but... I want the right to use the kitchen as I please, whenever I please. 
Why, you’re asking? Shishishi... Not telling. You’ve just got to trust me on this, I’ll make it worth your while. Then again, maybe I’ll just blow the kitchen up and you’ll have to live at Savanclaw again! That’d be fun, huh? 
If you don’t want me to, ya better give up your kitchen for a little while! I’ll get that microwave up and running again in no time.
- Ruggie 
Jack Howl - 
Dear Prefect, 
Hello, have you been feeling alright? I’ve noticed that Crowley isn’t the best provider of food. While on my morning runs, I’ve noticed Grim loudly talking about how he doesn’t have enough tuna. He does it pretty often. So, I’ve thought of a solution; You could try eating breakfast with me. I always get big portions, so you could have some. If you want, I could even try lifting you and carrying you places. I need to get better strength training anyway, and then you’ll have a buddy to get stronger with. It’s always better to have a friend with you. 
From, 
Jack 
Octavinelle: 
Azul Ashengrotto - 
My Pearl, 
Allow me to start this letter by saying that you are truly the crown jewel of my riches and that none can replace your beauty. You are the loveliest, most perfect little pearl, and I adore you with my whole heart. And yet, I cannot seem to convince myself that you feel the same. You say you do, and even if it is a crime to believe your lips hold lies, I cannot believe that to be true. If it was, why? Not just why you would tell me- A scheming man who has hurt you and your friends- that I hold the keys to your heart, but why you would choose what I hold underneath. I’m no good for you in terms of personality or how I look, and yet... You still hold me dear. And for that alone, I want to take you to the Coral Sea where my home lies, but not for a deal this time. Just... Because I want you and my mother in the same place. The two most important people to me meeting... That’s the best thing I can think of, to be honest. 
With Love, 
Azul Ashengrotto 
Jade Leech - 
Dearest Prefect, 
It has come to my attention that you haven’t had a chance to enjoy a proper mushroom dish since arriving in Twisted Wonderland. Now, that will not do for much longer. This letter should contain a box with three containers worth of mushroom dishes. You are to eat them and write back to me with what you thought of each of them. In return, I shall continue to provide you with free food. 
Do be warned, however, that they should all be eaten as fast as possible once you get them in case my brother chooses to throw them out. Also, so that way Grim cannot eat them. I would not recommend it for a cat.
Kind Regards, 
Jade Leech 
Floyd Leech - 
Shrimpy!!!!!! 
You and me. In the courtyard. Now. 
I’m going to squeeze you. 
🐬°˖𓍢✨໋ 🐋✧°.🐟⋆ 
🦐🥢🥢🥢🥢🧨 
I’ll see you later if you want me to or not. 
- Floyd <3333333 
Scarabia: 
Kalim Al-Asim - 
Hello!!!!
I love you!!! I love you, I love you, I love you! You’re the most wonderful person in this school, and you’ve done so much for both me and Jamil! It would be silly for me not to love you. I love how your hair looked in the wind when we went on that carpet ride, I love how you looked in the school’s uniform and how you looked when you tried on my dorms, and I love how you look no matter how you dress because you’re a beautiful person inside and out! I love you, and nothing can change that! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ 
Hugs and kisses, 
Kalim Al-Asim 
P.S. Let’s go on another magic carpet ride soon, okay? I want to show you how pretty the moon looks when it’s full and you’re flying!
Jamil Viper - 
Dear Prefect,
Thank you for saving me when I overblotted. I am aware that what I did was wrong, and I apologize. I hope you can understand where I’m coming from. Either way, I feel as though I must do something more for you to show you that. Please come to Scarabia tonight. I will make you a special dinner if you do. Please, don’t tell Kalim. I want... something special, for the two of us this time. 
See you later, 
Jamil Viper
Pomefiore: 
Vil Schoenheit - 
My Dearest Potato, 
I regret to inform you that you have bewitched me. So much so that I willingly took on a role as a villain in this next movie. The villain falls in love with the hero’s love interest, and then, in a “shocking” turn of events, she chooses the villain to stand by. Of course, they’re both defeated, the hero gets with his childhood friend in some lesson of how love will always be waiting for you, whatever. But I still chose it, even if Neige plays the hero. 
I finally have a love interest, and they remind me of you. You could have stood by his side, you know. You should have. I poisoned him; That action speaks for itself. And yet, you decided to stay with me. Just like how that villain in this story gets the girl the hero originally wanted. 
I’ve won your heart as well, haven’t I? 
Sincerely, 
Vil Schoenheit 
Rook Hunt - 
Trickster, 
Bonjour, mon amour! I could not resist sending you another letter. You see my darling, I long for you like I long for the sunset on a hot day, for an oasis in a desert, for a hint of rain during the dry season, for the sun during the days when it pours. I'd imagine you'd taste like the rain as well, Trickster, and if given the chance, I'd taste again and again, in an attempt to satiate more than just my curiosity. 
Oh, Trickster, have you any idea how you’ve bewitched me? Why, just the sight of you is enough to send me spiraling, wishing for the smallest fraction of a chance that my affections are shared. How cruel is fate, to deny me the right to live and die within your arms? La petite mort would be heaven if it was with you, but death would truly come for me if it wasn’t. 
Je t'aime de tout mon coeur, 
Le Chasseur D'Armour 
Epel Felmeir - 
Prefect, 
I need some help. I found out that milk can make ya grow stronger, and also help you get taller. However, Vil has banned me from drinking it because I drank a carton in two days. Something about it raising my cholesterol or making me break out, I don’t care. So, I need to keep it at Ramshackle. That’s okay with you, right? Well, I sure hope it is, cause it’s getting in there if ya want it to or not! I’ll see ya soon, just make sure it’s in the fridge. I’ll get ya some of my family’s apple juice in return, it’ll be good. I reckon ya liked it last time. 
Epel 
Ignihyde: 
Idia Shroud - 
Prefect, 
Get to my room, and fast. There’s an event taking place, and I need a player two. This one requires another person to be in the same room, so I can’t ask any of my mutuals, and you’re the only one I trust with this. I can’t ask Ortho either, don’t ask why. 
Also I recently got pink lights in my room like those normies. That’s why everything looks kind of pink, it’s not my hair. Just in case you were wondering if I was embarrassed or whatever, you’re wrong. Just get over here ASAP, no time to waste. 
- Gloomurai 
Ortho Shroud - 
Hello, how are you? ( ˵ •̀ ᴗ •́˵) I am very happy to get a chance to talk with you. I have recently learned how to type out these little faces called ‘kaomoji’ that my big brother loves. Here are some of my favorites: 
♡✧( •⌄• ) 
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 
•ω• 
ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ - This one is a cat! 
I would like to share more with you. Please come to Ignihyde so I can teach you how to get them on your phone as well. I can provide free updates while you’re here if needed. (✿˶◕‿◕˶人◕ᴗ◕✿) 
Date: XX/XX/XXXX 
Return Email: [email protected] 
Diasomnia: 
Malleus Dracona - 
My Dearest Child Of Man, 
If Longing was painful, how much farther would I have to fall to crash and burn at your feet? The only answer I can give is that I already would have. I would build monuments in your name and would offer you the world and more if only you would say you loved me back. 
Could this be considered love? Could these feelings I hold deep within my heart, only to divulge in the darkest hours of the night with none but the stars and you to bear witness to my passion, be a form of love? Or is this simply my yearning, a longing for your heart, and wanting to have someone to call my own? 
The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one I wanted next. How I wish I could scream your name from the rooftop, and raise my voice in song only to sing your praises. You have the face of an angel, and I am sure that you must have the mind of one as well, for even if the voices in your head remind you of nothing more than pain and suffering, they have still been able to mold you into the perfection you are today. But maybe you have devils as well, trying to smite you as you sleep, but just as I do all of your angels, I will pick them up and kiss their heads if they are a part of someone I care for so much. You are perfection, Child of Man, and this dragon wishes only to live with the crumbs of affection as my treasures. 
Yours Until The End Of Eternity, 
Prince Malleus Dracona Of Briar Valley Hornton 
Lilia Vanrouge - (Okay so for Lilia I could have SWORN that he calls the prefect ‘Beastie,’ but I can find that nowhere. Literally at all, no one seems to have used it for him, but I know that I’ve seen at least one person do it. I now think that it’s a headcanon thing but I’m not sure, if anyone knows who did this or if it’s canon, please tell me. I’ve been searching for far too long and I am in too deep.)
Beastie, 
Hello, my darling~! I have an easy-peasy little request for you, m’kay? You just need to travel over to Diasomnia, and then... I’ll make you a meal! Malleus has been out trying to find this one gargoyle on campus all day since I brought up wanting to learn a new recipe, and Sebek and Silver both ran off earlier to go help him. I don’t know how to tell them that the gargoyle they’re looking for definitely isn’t at Night Raven College. Raising kids is quite hard, especially when things like this come up... 
But you’ll be there for me, won’t you, Beastie? Pretty please? I’ll see you tonight if you want to, a little date if you feel up to it. Mwah! 
xoxo, 
Lilia 
Silver “Vanrouge” - 
Dear Prefect, 
I had the most wonderful dream. I think I did, at least. I can’t remember it, but I remember how familiar these eyes were, and I knew it was you as soon as I awoke. And I know it's true, that dreams are seldom what they seem... But if I know how you are, then I know what you'll do; You'll look at me the same way you did once upon inside my dreams. And tell me all about the animals that you found with me when I awoke. What I wouldn’t give to hear you tell me about every birdie that comes to me; I’d be willing to fall asleep in the forest every day if only to hear you cooing to the birds when I come to. I wonder if each little bird has someone to sing sweet things to, a little love melody like what I long to play for you one day. Well, either way, I’m growing sleepy now. The effects of my curse will soon be on me once more. I’ll see you either later today or tomorrow, depending on how long I’m asleep. If you need me or simply wish to keep me company, I’m currently resting in the woods. 
Best Wishes, 
Silver 
Sebek Zigvolt - 
HUMAN! 
I have something to show you; A new notebook to be filled, gifted to me by Master Lilia. He said that it is a ‘scrapbook’, which humans fill up with pictures and drawings of themselves and their friends. To fulfill the purpose of this illustrious gift, you must come to Diasomnia at once! You shall be the first of the first years to be added, along with Silver. Prepare enough of those photographs you have to fill half of the book. The other shall be dedicated to Wakasama! 
Sincerely, 
Sebek Zigvolt  
RSA+NBC: 
Che’nya - 
Prefect... 
When are you going to visit RSA, huh? It would be purrr-fect to get a chance to see you again. You’re quite the pretty purr-son, dontcha think? Or maybe I’ll just drop by at the next unbirthday party... Riddle and Trey would like that, but I wonder what you’d think. Hum-hum-hummm... 
Kitty Kisses, 
Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker <3 
Neige Leblanche - (The Reader is called NRC’s ‘princess’ in this one, but not called a woman or anything)
My Dearest, 
Hello! How are you fairing? Have you been doing okay since the VDC? I know that you looked pretty shaken up back then, so I wanted to make sure that you’ve been okay. After all, you’re NRC’s princess! As far as I can tell, anyway. I’m happy that there’s someone around Vil like you, he always looked like he needed a good cheering up. And you’re like a fairytale! Such pretty hair and eyes and skin; Oh, I’d ride away with you on a white horse if I could! 
Ah, that’s odd to say to someone I don’t know very well, isn’t it? I’m sorry, that’s my fault. You still want to be friends, right? If you do, please come visit me at some point. Or, just send me a letter back. I’ll make sure that you get priority over any fan letter. 
Love, 
Neige Leblanche 
Rollo Flamme -
Mon Amour, 
There are times I wish I could tear you down and take you apart only to sew you back together. Rip you to shreds only to tenderly put each piece back where it should be. Drink from you until there's nothing left and then fill you up with all of the love I could offer, make you mine and mine alone. Those greedy thoughts shouldn't even make their way onto this paper, shouldn’t even be in my head, and yet here I am, penning them in a letter never to be sent. 
I truly wish you never see these letters, for I'd hate to be the reason your face turns to disgust, even if for a moment. Of course, I don't regret writing them. You will never read them, after all, but I believe I should get my thoughts out like this rather than bottle them up, lest I do something stupid and let you see them. I pray that you will never have to see me in a state like how I write to you, over my bedside table in the dead of night, eyes barely open and breath still recovering from dreams of a sweeter pleasure than I should sully your name with. 
I mention those dreams I have of you a lot, it seems, although I mean it in the most innocent way possible. Ever since I met you, you've infested my dreams and wormed your way into my heart like a parasite I can't rid myself of. My dreams are all of the sweet moments I have longed for and never gotten. I only have eyes for you, after all, and a saint may never lie with a sinner, lest they become one as well. 
Bonus: 
Checka Kingscholar - 
To Perfect, 
Hello! I am Checka Kingscholar. I am fiv years old. I like my unca. I like my dad and I love my mom. I love you! Goodbye! •ᴗ•
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eldritchcreatureofwords · 23 days ago
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OK, because ya'll need to hear it.
THERE WAS NOTHING OZZIE COULD HAVE DONE IN THAT TRIAL. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. "Oh, but Foxxe, he could have spoken up!" Bee did! And she was instantly brushed off and shut up. She barely got so much as an acknowledgement. Vassago did! And he was also shut down. Hard. He got more of a say then Bee did, likely because he was taken more seriously than the silly, childish Sin of Gluttony, but still no one even pretended to listen to him. Moxxie did. Blitz himself did. Did none of you hear what Blitz said at the end? Because he was right and it was true. Satan was never going to listen to anyone. Maybe, maybe if they'd managed to vote in a proper trial, he would have been forced to, but the rational people in the room lost the vote. The only reason Stolas got heard was because he made such a big scene, made himself impossible to ignore- and was the point of the trial in the first place. "Oh, but Foxxe, the crystal!" Cool, cool. So that means nothing. No, really. The crystal means fuck all. Even if this trial weren't rigged, even if anyone was willing to listen, even if people actually thought Blitz had done something wrong and didn't just not give a shit- Blitz still acquired his means to earth illegally in the first place. Just because you buy a car years later doesn't unsteal the one you stole in your teens, and it doesn't make that suddenly not illegal. Now, Stolas gave Blitz access to the book, but that's still illegal (apparently) and even if it wasn't, it's pretty clear that's not what he's actually on trial for. He's 'on trial' for supposedly raping, assaulting, manipulating, and stealing from a Goetia. They're making Blitz out to be the monster Stella really is. It's not just about the book, and even if it was, the crystal would not undo the illegal actions taken originally. "Oh, but Foxxe, he could have said something about Striker!!" Oh, right, cool, yeah. But, uh, one question. Why???? It's not like the council thinks Striker is some good-faith high-class excellent beacon of shining morale. They know he's an assassin. He is literally here to get amnesty. What is Ozzie going to say? "Oh, this guy who kills people for a living? He tried to kill my boyfriend!" Um, duh, of course he did, no shit, he's a POS. If anything, that would easily be twisted to make Blitz look like a psychopath who set Striker on Fizz, too. And it would have brought Ozzie's relationship with Fizzie out onto the table, which is a can of worms no one wants to deal with.
Yes, they're open now, but fuck only knows if Satan or any of the other sins know that- and even if they do, it puts Ozzie's words/testimony in nebulous light because Blitz is Fizzie's friend, and Fizzie is Ozzie's lover. Plus, as a 'dirty imp fucker' Ozzie may well dig everyone's hole even deeper and further complicate the situation. Ozzie is flat-out-stated to be the 'weakest and least threatening' of the Sins. Satan is the strongest, save perhaps Luci himself, who isn't fucking there because he's currently in a room buried up to the Goddamn neck in rubber duckies and having a fucking crisis while his people and his domain sort of fall down around his stupid adorable ears. Ozzie's not going to pick a fight he can't win. Because he wouldn't win it. Satan would flatten him and we all fucking know it. Even if he did go scorched earth and just start a Goddamn fight in the courtroom, what does that solve? Precisely nothing. You would, best case scenario, have I.M.P on the run, Ozzie a traitor, and Stolas and Blitz still in their Divorce Era, miserable and alone, now with added Half of Hell on their Heels for extra emotional and mental damage! So, in summation- Ozzie couldn't do jack fucking all in that trial. And to hope that Fizzie hates him, is angry with him, or they break up over this is really small and silly and absolutely does not do justice to the characters- and I'm not even getting into some of the flanderizing bullshit I see saying Ozzie is racist and implying that his relationship with Fizzie isn't as healthy as it seems and it's all about to come to light. I'm not saying Fizz can't be mad. I'm not saying they don't need to talk. I'm not saying it's not traumatic and stressful or doesn't need to be addressed. I'm saying that ultimately Ozzie's hands were fucking tied and that a ten year plus relationship is not a lie that is about to fall apart or crack. And if it does, I'm going to be pretty disappointed in Vivz. (I'll keep loving the show, of course, just be disappointed.) I'm saying that ya'll need to stop acting like Ozzie is an evil, hypocritical, or selfish douchebag for not flinging himself on the pyre pointlessly. I'm saying that while I think it will be addressed, I really think ultimately Fizz is a compassionate, intelligent, empathetic person who will understand why Ozzie couldn't do anything and will be glad the man he loves- the man he loves, ya'll- did not cut off his nose to spite his face.
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idv-sunsxin3 · 7 months ago
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Rody, Vincent // Thoughts on S/O
Notes// I've got these random brainrots like, if reader has to play this game connected to the deadplate game in the pov of a journalist to solve some kind of case related to Manon's disappearance-- so Rody and Vincent would be having npcs with extra dialogue lines that talk about their s/o(Y/N, not manon). The other idea of us playing in the pov as the s/o(separate) would be interesting too.
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Rody//
•NPC!Rody can be seen walking and catering patrons with a friendly smile. He was wearing roller skates as he often has his hands busy with dish plates during his work shift.
•If you stay long enough to shift restaurant, there is a chance he would stutter his performance a bit as his arms tremble to keep the plates from not falling in his hands.
•When talking to him, his speech is usually rush as he has to shift from one corner of the restaurant to the other, his eyes everywhere as he rambles on yet keeping a friendly aura through his firm smile.
•"Hello- welcome to La Gueule le Saturne! Allow me to guide you to the right table. "
•"Yes? Please stay seated for the mean time, I'll be right back with you soon!"
•"Would you like to order?"
•(asked about S/O) "Oh- Oh? My lover?" *sheepish smile with a goofy blush suddenly* "They're doing great." *easily goes back to work*
•Whether as a coworker or customer, one thing clear is that when you're a bit closer enough, you eventually get to know his S/O's name.
•"We can talk later!"
•"What's up? Need a hand?"
•"Uh--- can you take care of the other tables? Thanks!"
•"mmm... I wonder what kinds of flowers should I give for Y/N this time?" *dozing off in the kitchen for a moment *
•(When asked about S/O) "Y/N are at home, and they are taking care of our apartment.. If only i can convince them to not move a finger.. God, they're so wonderful-- Oh, excuse me." *catches almost getting too deep into the topic before trying to quickly go back to work*
Internal Thoughts//
I love Y/N... I must work hard for them. Without them, I'll be nothing... So I have to do more than my best to give them the love and care they need! I must please them. I must serve them... Well, even if it's too much.. I'm willing to give them everything... my everything.
I promise them a brighter future... where we don't have to worry about money and bills. I just need to earn and save more.
This journalist keeps coming over pretty often--- I wonder what they are looking for? Why are they so curious of my honey? I need to keep S/O safe from unwanted attention - I'll just try and answer briefly as possible.
___
Vincent//
•Usually you'll see NPC!Vincent in the corner watching the cooks work to check for perfection. No matter how early you are, it's already clear that he's the boss. The one who is the first person to open the restaurant
•Day 4, you can find him walking to the dumpster area to smoke in his break.
•When interacting with him. He'll show a polite, charismatic persona when talking to you as a visitor or patron.
•"Good day, what may I help you..?" *fake smile*
•"Hello, are there any problems with a dish you have ordered? We can try and fix something to recompensate it."
•"Looking for me...?"
•"Oh- may I ask what you are doing here, Monsieur/Mademoiselle? Rody should have informed me about you coming here -"
• (When asked about S/O) "Mm... About my fiancé? They're doing well, thank you for asking." *maintaing a fake smile*
•If you happened to end up working for him as a waiter or cook, his demeanor would probably be a different story.
•"..."
•"What do you need?"
•"......"
•"Why are you still here? You better not try chit-chats on me."
•"...What?"
•(When asked about s/o) "S/O? They're at work. Any business with them? I can let them know on your behalf with anything you need to inform later. Just go back to work."
Internal Thoughts//
I keep mentioning Y/N as "my fiancé " through the press and the public. In reality, We're not officially engaged, but I like the sound of it, and i do it so no one can bother to make advancements on me - I need to be seen as... royally taken.
The journalist keeps asking questions to me... even having the audacity to press on matters related to my Y/N. If they know what really happened to Manon, I must make a backup plan...
And do not fret, mon cher. I'll soon place a real ring on that pretty finger on yours... Once the evidence needs to be rid of from anyone's reach.
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littlenahsstuff · 4 months ago
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Sugar, Spice, Not Nice
Bridget x Demigod!reader
Requested by @ladyqueenxoxo
Synopsis:You are hades niece. No one knows you are a demigod or that you are staying with Hades. You hang around his group but don’t fit in at all. You try your hardest but sometimes you crave the sweetest things in life. You are handpicked to mess with Bridget in order to prove yourself. No one knows you are dating her either.
Warnings: not proofread! Bullying. Uliana’s an asshole. I’m not sure how much I like this one, but the endings nice.
Word count: 2.3k
~~~~~
The Vks all sat around one of the courtyard tables. You had to try your hardest not to gag at Hades and Maleficent. It didn’t end well the last time you did. You were lost in thought, thinking about your wonderful girlfriend Bridget.
What kind of sweets will she make today? Maybe I can help her after-
“I’m bored, someone come up with something interesting to do” Uliana demands.
Maybe Bridget will bake-
“Uh hello, earth to Y/n!” Uliana screeches. You immediately focus.
“Oh uh, sorry..” you trail. You know you’ve messed up again based off of the look on Ulianas face.
“What have I told you about apologizing. Seriously for being the only one to care about those stupid honors classes you sure are a grade A imbecile,” she responds and the others laugh at you. You just nod and shrink a little.
“Hey Uli,” Hook starts. He’s looking at you menacingly. “I think the honors girl here needs some sort of extra credit. Let’s give her something evil to do!” The panic is growing exponentially. You haven’t had to actually do anything evil yet, mainly sending some half-assed insults.
Uliana’s grin grows. “Why do you look so nervous Y/n? Scared of doing a little bad? I guess you do need it. The petty thievery and cheating doesn’t cut it anymore.”
“No, I’m just having an off day,” you excuse. You gulp. You’ve also tripped a couple of people and maybe driven Ulianas car as the getaway driver while they stole a hamster from the store. You felt so bad for the little guy. It’s not like you were the meanest but looking back on it you sure as hell were bad a lot.
“Well… in that case” Uliana’s voice gets high pitched. “We should give you something easy! Why don’t you prank Bridget for me. I have yet to do it this year, with the fresh meat and all that.” You get confused and terrified. “You’re new, but Bridget happens to be my favorite target. I always typically set aside the nastiest of my plans for her.” She cackles, making the already cavernous pit in your stomach bigger.
“Oh really?” You say. You can tell any strength in your voice is gone.
“Yeah, so… this year we were planning something a little more personal. We know Bridget takes those stupid honors classes too. That makes you the perfect candidate for this particular prank,” Uliana chuckles darkly. “That brat is always trying to make friends, so let’s give her exactly what she wants. Once you manage to do so you are to hide these magic beans in her room.” She held out the beans and they shimmered. Magic beans were totally illegal and would get Bridget expelled if anyone found it. You twiddle your thumbs as a slight sweat breaks out.
“But- what if-“ you’re cut off.
“Come on y/n don’t be so chicken!” Hook laughs. You look at hades and he sends you back with a raised brow.
“Okay, I’ll do it.” You say. Uliana breaks into a wicked grin. The bell chimes.
“Great. It’s almost first period, why don’t you hop along,” she finishes and motions for you to leave with her hand. You nod, grab the beans, and rush to class.
You decide you have to tell Bridget, even if it might leave you without any friends.
You get to Honors Alchemy 2 just in the nick of time, meeting Bridget at the front. She squeals and gives you a hug. You awkwardly pat her back and look around.
When she pulls away her smile disappears. You take a deep breath.
“Bridget…” you start with a gulp, “I may have gotten myself into trouble.” She gasps.
“Not yet,” you continue, it’s- well. Uliana gave me some magic beans and told me to put them in your room as some sort of prank. I know how evil it is and I’m really sorry.” You said it so fast you had to take a big inhale. Bridget softens.
“Sugar, it’s okay,” she grabs your arm.
“I just don’t know what to do. I mean, they’re my only friends other than you and- well I fear going against- he won’t like- oh.” You pause, realizing Bridget deserves to know of your situation eventually.
“It’ll be okay! But I might be a little confused, who’s he?” She gets that adorable big stare you love whenever she needs help. It makes you melt a little.
“Hades is… my uncle. Only him and Maleficent know. He is technically my guardian while he is on Olympic probation. My dad added me onto the punishment,” you whisper before chuckling bitterly. “I just worry he’ll get even more angry at me when we’re home.” You look down. Bridget stops it with a hand tilting your face to look at her.
“You should never have to worry about that. But wait, dad… as in?” She questions.
“Zeus… I’m a demigod…” you squeak. Her eyes bulge for a second.
“Do you have powers too!?” She almost yells. You shush her.
Professor Merlin clears his throat,
“Ladies, class must begin. I do hope you’ll keep the chatter to a minimum.” He grumbles, not too angrily, however.
“Yes, um could we maybe talk more about this after school? I still have no clue how I’m to go about this,” you request. She nods enthusiastically. The rest of class you focus on getting a good lab grade and do in fact keep the chatter to a minimum. Bridget seems excited the whole time but you just feel awful still for getting mixed up in this mess.
***
When you were done with your classes for the day, you met up with Bridget in her room. You waited nervously before knocking.
When you did she opened the door with a smile.
“Come on in!” She says. She looks adorable in her pink pjs, they fit her personality to a t.
You walk in and she grabs your hands to lead you to her bed.
“So…” she chuckles awkwardly, “do you know what you’re gonna do?” You look down and sigh.
“I had an idea I guess. I was thinking maybe I hide the beans and just try avoiding the group as much as possible. If they say anything I’ll just match their energy and tell them I don’t wanna do the prank or hang out with them. Does that sound good?” You question. Any input would be useful.
Bridget yums but nods, “As long as you’re safe I don’t see why that plan wouldn’t work.” She taps her fingers on her leg.
“Thanks B, I’m a little nervous but everything will work out. Um, anything you wanna know about the whole demigod thing. I’m really sorry for not telling you. I just wanted to be somewhat normal.” You admit sheepishly. She gives you a soft smile.
“Normal is boring, but I understand. Just tell me anything you want to” she resolves. She grabs your hand and holds it.
You take a deep breath, “Well, I age normally, I have these little sparky things when I get really angry but other than that I get hurt the same as everyone else. I don’t really have any more powers than that though. I’m not magic like you are,” you add.
“What about your family,” you get a little bit more sad at that.
“Or, y-you don’t have to tell me!” Bridget fixes.
“No I can tell you. I’m not really allowed on Olympus that much. My mother died when I was really young, hence why Hades is hosting me. He can be chill. He likes doing evil things a lot but he usually doesn’t have a care about anything.” Bridget looks at you and gives you a hug.
“I’m so sorry Y/n, it must still be hard. But the sparky thing is really cool. Maybe I’ll get to see it one day!” She says. You smile.
“Maybe.”
She gasps making you jump a little with how loud it was.
“Hey I have an idea,” she says, “why don’t we go out and get some ice cream!” She squeals and stands up. She pulls you up with a sudden strength, twirling you into her. You both start giggling.
“That sounds very nice Princess B. You know all the ways to my heart.
****
Gapetto’s Gelato was in walking distance in the nearby town. You and Brigette talk about school and a bunch of other random things, giggling and having such a good time. You didn’t even realize you were there.
“Okay I’ll get the ice cream, Strawberry with rainbow sprinkles still?” You ask and she nods.
You go up to the window and go to order it, as soon as you open your mouth you hear very familiar voices behind you. You whip around to see Uliana holding Bridget’s purse way above her head.
“Relax Bridgy, we just want some money to buy icecream! You should understand since you love sweets so much. You should be careful anyways, you might be looking chubby!” Uliana spits, waving it just out of her reach. Your skin prickles. You walk away and shout out a sorry to Gapetto.
“I’ll be back.”
“Uliana come on, just give me my bag. You’re gonna break it!” Bridget stresses. She’s stopped trying to jump for it.
“What, too much exercise? Told you you’re getting chubby!” Hook cackles. Your skin now feels like it’s on fire and you tense up. A faint buzzing can be heard.
“Give. It. Back.” You grit through your teeth. Bridget looks at you, you can’t tell if she wants you to stay out of it or not but either way you’re helping her.
“Oh! Looks like you were doing what you were supposed to, for once. Well, i rather mess with her myself. Your services are no longer required.” Uliana says while another one of her tentacles pushes Bridget hard on the ground.
“The moneys not even in there,” Bridget whimpers. As if lightning courses through your vains you stand up straight and try to hold back. You can feel the sparks forming up your arms.
“I’m giving you one chance Uliana, leave now,” you stomp your foot.
“Ugh, why are you acting like this. Here; take your ugly bag pink piggy,” Uliana says as she hurls it at her. Bridget looks so scared but you manage to catch it by the strap just in time. Uliana cackles. Bridget looks like she’s about to cry and you look down to see it completely ripped.
“Oops… oh well, it was almost as ugly as y-“ before Uliana can finish what she says, you blast a huge lightning bolt at her feet causing her to yelp. “Oh you little shit!” Uliana tries to slam a tentacle into you, you grab it and it spasms away. She lets out another yelp. You hold up your burnt fists at her.
“Try it again fish for brains. I never want to see you around Bridget again. I’m done being your pawn. Bridget is more genuine and beautiful than you could ever be. She’s smart and kind and the best goddamn baker there is and even if she were to get chubby, which she’s not! She would be so much hotter than you on any given day!” You scream. She just rolls her eyes and backs up.
“Fine freak,” she says and walks (stumbles) away with a cackling Hook. You whip around and make sure all of the energy is dispelled. Since you aren’t raging right now it is but you hold out a hand to Bridget. She grabs it and you try not to wince at the sting when you pull her up.
“Woah that was- thank you! No one’s ever done that for me before.” Bridget says incredulously. She pulls you by your arms into a kiss. “I love you- Y/n?!” Is the last thing you hear before fainting.
***
When you awake you are in Bridget’s dorm, feeling sore as shit. Bridget here’s shuffling and immediately rushes over to your side.
“Hey there sugar,” she says softly. “I take it that your powers did this?” She carefully picks up your bandaged hands. You chuckle.
“Yup, cursed with a painful gift. I’m sorry for them. If I had known they were always such assholes to you, I would’ve made her into fried calamari sooner.” You giggle. Bridget smiles.
“Well; I hope you never have to do that to yourself again. But… you were- ARE amazing. I love you so much already.” Bridget kisses you on the cheek.
“Can we cuddle. I feel so much better and I just want cuddles please?” You whine, give her your biggest puppy dog eyes. Despot looking very disheveled, Bridget can’t deny how adorable you look. She chuckles and nods, carefully peeling back your blankets and getting in next to you.
“I’m sorry about your bag,” you sigh.
“Don’t be, I’m a princess remember? I can get another one anytime,” she chuckles. You feel like smacking your head. Of course she can, she’s rich.
“Oh. Well, can we make out until my headache goes away?” You instead ask. Once again, making the puppy dog eyes.
“Of course my heart! How long do they usually last?” She asks. You sheepishly grin.
“A couple of days,” you reply, trying to wiggle your eyebrows.
“Well, we better get started then.” She grips your chin softly and gives you a peck before going into the real kiss. Her lips taste like the color pink and sugar and you can’t help but feeling you only ever need her. Princess Bridget will forever be known as the love of your life.
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ponypuffle · 10 months ago
Note
I hope you don’t mind an Applejack request- how do you think she’d do with a significant other who’s anxious/easily stressed out and gets tired easily?
Pairing: Applejack x GN! Anxious! Reader Word Count: 570+ Warning(s): reader experiences anxiety, but it isn't written too in depth A/N: finally writing again :') here's a lil cozy aj hc post to get me started
Applejack is so protective, bordering on overprotective, so trust that you're in good hooves. She knows how anxious you get and will gladly help you no matter how small it may seem.
Need help ordering at a restaurant? No worries. Just whisper your order in her ear and she'll order for you. Or, perhaps you're stressed over tomorrow. She knows just what to do to ease your anxieties.
You'd been pacing around your home, checking and rechecking everything, for the past ten minutes. By the time AJ had gotten back home, you'd worked yourself up into a tizzy.
"What's going on here?" She said in amusement, trying to ease any tension in the atmosphere.
You tried to frantically explain what you were up to, finding yourself stuttering over your own words as you tried to stay on track. It wasn't until AJ set a gentle hoof on you that you slowed down. "I just... I really want things to turn out well."
"I know, sugarcube." She began to soothe you in her sweet, southern voice. "I know how capable you are, so I'm confident you got this. Why don't we settle down with a warm cup of cider?"
You couldn't help nuzzling into AJ's warmth before slowly nodding. She always did manage to calm your nerves, even if just a little. "Okay..."
"There we go, sugar. Now, go on and get comfy in bed." She pecked your cheek with a saccharine kiss.
You obeyed, letting yourself release some tension on the plush mattress. You watched AJ grab one of the softer throw blankets you had to set atop of you. She knew how much it helped you unwind when you could feel the comforting fluffiness of the blanket.
"I'll be right back." AJ walked out of the room into your kitchen. Before you knew it, she came back with a steaming mug of apple cider. With AJ by your side, you finally managed to find peace.
Now, don't assume that AJ will shelter you at any moment's notice. She's protective of you, but that's partly why she tries to make sure you can do things yourself.
She knows she can't be there for you every second of the day, so she'll encourage you to step out of your comfort zone little by little. Don't worry, though. She would never put you in a situation that she knows you'd be much too overwhelmed by.
Whenever you go out, she'll carry a saddlebag for you with little snacks and a bottle of water in case you get tired. It's crazy how attentive she is to your needs, even when you don't realize your in need of something yourself.
That being said, you better believe she makes you do hydration checks, just to make sure you have enough water everyday. If you don't like the taste of water, worry not! She'll cut up apple slices to put inside your water (or whatever fruit you desire, but it'd give her that extra little joy to know she grew the apples inside your drink).
When she notices you need a break, she'll help lead you somewhere secluded so you can take some time to recover a bit. If you're in a public area that's much too crowded, she'll do her best to find someplace out of the way where she can sit or stand between you and the crowd as if she was some sort of shield.
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vickyvicarious · 7 months ago
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Jonathan's decision to play along today was very difficult to make. But, in the end, it was the right move. He set aside his anger and impulse to rebel... perhaps as much or more out of fear rather than just logic, but we do see his reasoning and it makes sense.
And honestly, I think he pushed his luck nearly to the limit anyways. Look at how Dracula asked. First, he waited a few days after everything that went down with the vampire ladies, perhaps to see if Jonathan would bring up the topic. If Jonathan does, maybe he had plans to lie to him again, to gaslight him about either never sleeping outside of his room, or about Dracula finding him dreaming somewhere else and helping him back to his own bed. Still, Jonathan's reaction to such a lie could very easily force an end to all this pretending. But since he never brings it up at all, Dracula knows he can continue his game. In fact, Jonathan is proving to be a very resilient player, one who has just enough struggle in him to make it more interesting, without being too unmanageable or ever close to actually get away.
Dracula gives Jonathan this 'request' "in the suavest tones" - he's really emphasizing his charm here, being extra friendly as he tries to make Jonathan feel even worse. But then, contrary to what he's seen thus far, Jonathan hesitates.
I would fain have rebelled, but felt that in the present state of things it would be madness to quarrel openly with the Count whilst I am so absolutely in his power; and to refuse would be to excite his suspicion and to arouse his anger. He knows that I know too much, and that I must not live, lest I be dangerous to him; my only chance is to prolong my opportunities. Something may occur which will give me a chance to escape. I saw in his eyes something of that gathering wrath which was manifest when he hurled that fair woman from him. He explained to me that posts were few and uncertain, and that my writing now would ensure ease of mind to my friends; and he assured me with so much impressiveness that he would countermand the later letters, which would be held over at Bistritz until due time in case chance would admit of my prolonging my stay, that to oppose him would have been to create new suspicion.
I think he must have been sitting there making these arguments to himself in real time. Wrestling with his fear and his outrage and possibly losing most of his control over his expression and body language as he did so. And at first, this is fun for Dracula. He wants Jonathan to struggle like this. It's fun to watch. But then, the longer it goes on, the more real becomes the possibility that this will be Jonathan's breaking point. And if it is, if he outright says "no" even this once, then Dracula's entire game is ruined. He's just committed to wanting to keep Jonathan around for another full month. Jonathan passed the test with the other vampires. Dracula has been looking forward to this. How dare he spoil this -
Dracula's rage rises as he finds himself forces to make excuses and be convincing when he likely assumed he no longer needed to put in that much effort. Jonathan finally does agree, but he didn't do so right away. And it's a very fine line, because continuing to do this does in fact make him more interesting and fun in the long run, and thus perhaps allow him to live longer. Maybe after they separate for the evening (morning, being nocturnal) Dracula would actually look back on this moment with indulgent enjoyment. He pushed perhaps right up to the limit of what Dracula would tolerate, but he didn't quite cross it, so the game can continue. But at the same time, pushing like this (or rather, resisting being pushed before giving in) is extremely dangerous in the moment - because in the moment, there's still a chance Jonathan could cross the line. Dracula has a temper and he will take it out on Jonathan if he decides he's had enough.
It's that tightrope again. More of the same. But I just... love imagining this moment. Dracula's sickly-sweet smugness at the start, his utter confidence in his victory once again. And Jonathan - pausing. Saying nothing in response. Thinking it over, taking so long to do so, trying so hard to keep a neutral face but not fully succeeding, maybe keeping his head bowed so his expression can't be seen. Dracula's anger building along with almost a sort of desperation, as he lays out all this bullshit reasoning, maybe losing control of his own tone somewhat as he gets more aggressively vehement. The absolute tension rising, up and up right until the moment Jonathan looks up and agrees, when it suddenly dissipates. But the aftermath lingers, even in Dracula's victory. Even as Jonathan writes the three letters, one after another under Dracula's watchful eye. Dracula takes them from his hand, squeezes his shoulder in ostensible thanks, but such a clear threat. Jonathan's face twitching, a little spasm of fear and despair, at the contact.
It could be SUCH a good scene in an adaptation that emphasized the abusive dynamic here.
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punkshort · 1 year ago
Text
Chapter warnings: language, violence, m masturbation, smut
Chapter Eight
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Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak
AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)
Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.
Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters
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Back in your apartment, the two of you set to work quietly organizing everything spread out on the living room floor that you could think of to pack. The biggest section was food. Luckily you were still used to a dorm room diet, so you had tons of useful items to take on the go. You had focused on the cans with protein like tuna, chicken and beans, then moved on to granola and protein bars, nuts, dried fruit, ramen noodles, cereal, instant rice and easy mac. Joel packed each of you a flashlight with extra batteries, and handfuls of matches and lighters he had found rummaging through your floor. Justin's camping equipment came with a canteen, plate, bowl, and foldable silverware for each, and a small first aid kit, which Joel significantly bolstered after raiding all the bathrooms on the floor.
He told you to only pack one or two extra sets of clothes, that you would have to break into houses or stores along the way if you needed more. He didn't want to waste the space in your packs that could be used for food and medicine.
You both set to work filling your bags with as much stuff as you could. Joel slipped a map into his pack that he had picked up from a kitchen drawer down the hall, and you had snuck in an unopened box of tampons and a folded up picture of your parents in yours when he wasn't looking.
It was around midday when you were all set to go, making sure to eat something left behind in your cupboards one last time.
You closed the door behind you, but you didn't lock it in case someone came along and needed something. Then sadly, you turned and gripped your baseball bat, following Joel down the long hallway, down the stairs and to the lobby.
Before Joel pushed the lobby door open to the outside, he turned to you.
"Which way's the subway?"
You pointed down the street to the right.
"It's about 3 blocks that way, not far. It's mostly all apartment buildings and a few stores on the corners."
Joel nodded, cracking the door open to listen for any sign of trouble. It sounded clear, so he ventured out to confirm before pulling you out behind him.
"We gotta be quick, but not too quick. Don't want to accidentally sneak up on somethin' out here," Joel explained in a hushed tone. "If you hear anythin', stop and don't make a sound. And you tell me if you see anythin' at all, understand?" You walked closely next to him as he was speaking, the whole time looking all around you frantically, your senses in overdrive, and your heart hammering in your chest. All you did was nod, not wanting to risk making too much noise.
The streets were quiet. Joel peeked around the corner and made sure no soldiers or infected were nearby before ushering you across the open street and back behind the safety of a building. One block down.
The two of you trotted down the sidewalk, swiveling your head around every few feet to see if there was anyone behind you. You almost made it to the next corner when Joel swung out his arm to stop you. You held your breath, heart racing as you focused on the noise he heard. It was the slow rumbling of an engine that reminded you of the FEDRA truck you heard patrolling outside your apartment last night. Joel must have figured that out, too, because he grabbed your arm and pulled you over to hide behind a dumpster that was sticking out of a narrow alley. You both crouched down and waited for the truck to pass. Fortunately, it didn't turn down the street you were on, where you would have been exposed.
Once the noise faded, Joel stood up slowly before motioning for you to follow. Again, he poked his head around the corner and took extra time to make sure no one was around before dragging you across the street once more. One more block to go.
You were halfway down the block as you passed a pawn shop, windows smashed in and the place ransacked. You grabbed Joel's arm and his head whipped around in a panic. You shook your head to tell him nothing was wrong and pointed into the pawn shop.
"Weapons?" you mouthed.
He hesitated a moment, trying to decide if you should press on or see if there was something useful in there before ultimately deciding to check it out. If the subway had infected in it, it would be better if there was more than just one knife between you. Joel stepped through the broken glass door carefully, glancing around at the small shop before holding his hand out to guide you through the opening. You both took a quick look around, noticing anything valuable was long gone, and most of the knives were picked over, but you did find a decent sized switchblade for yourself. You tucked it into your jeans pocket, and you carried on down the street towards the subway entrance.
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You had a long way to go down the dark tunnel, but so far it had been quiet and uneventful. Your flashlight beams bounced off the brick walls as you walked in silence, trying to stay focused on your surroundings. Your anxiety spiked with every new subway station you passed, reminding you of just how much deeper into the city you were getting. From what the soldiers had said, more densely populated areas were worse off, and so far in your limited experience that had proven to be true.
You were two stations away from the one you stopped at for work when you first saw people. It was just two families, huddled together on the platform. They had seen your flashlights long before you saw them, so trying to sneak by was useless. They seemed like they were just innocent survivors, so Joel kept walking, holding his head up. He made eye contact with two of the men in the group and gave them each a firm nod, hoping to convey you were just passing through and not looking for trouble. They nodded back wordlessly, and you carried on your way.
The next station had more people who had sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, and lanterns. It looked like they were trying to wait it out underground long-term. A few of the men approached the end of the platform to address Joel.
"You soldiers?" one of them asked.
"No, just passin' through, tryin' to stay off the streets, sorry to disturb you all," Joel replied. He paused for a moment, and looked back at the men who were still watching you carefully. "Any of you see any infected down here?"
One of the men shook his head. "Nah, man, that's why we're sitting tight down here. Soldiers must be keeping them busy up top."
Joel nodded. "Thanks... good luck to you."
Finally, you approached your stop for work and found the platform to be filled with people, just like the previous one. They were kind and immediately helped you both up off the tracks. You introduced yourselves and explained you were headed to Joel's apartment not too far from there. One of the women, Josie, warned you the closer you got to the heart of the city, the worse it was.
"We heard, thank you. Once we get up top it won't be a long walk," you said, swiping the back of your hand across your forehead to clear the sweat collecting there. "We've been walking for hours. Joel?" You turned to him, interrupting a conversation he was having with Josie's husband, Peter. "Can we rest here for a bit?" Joel turned back to Peter.
"That ok with you folks?" he asked. Peter and Josie nodded, seemingly the leaders of the small group of strangers huddled on the platform.
The two of you slunk down against the tiled wall, pulling out protein bars and your canteens after sitting down. You shut your eyes for a few minutes, leaning the back of your head against the wall, chewing and grateful to be taking a break.
"You holdin' up alright?" Joel asked softly beside you. You nodded, keeping your eyes closed.
"I'm just tired," you replied, taking another bite of your protein bar without looking.
"It ain't much further, once we get on the street it's another few blocks. We should be able to get there before - "
Joel's sentence was cut short by screaming, and your eyes flew open in surprise as you dropped your protein bar and grabbed your bat while fumbling around in your pocket for the switchblade. Joel was already standing, gripping his bat and trying to locate the source of the scream in the group. One of the men, who looked asleep when you arrived, was snarling and had his teeth clamped down into the shoulder of an older man, blood pouring down his arm and soaking both of their shirts. Peter and another man jumped into action to pull the infected off the poor man screaming in agony, struggling to pin it to the ground.
Joel charged forward before you could stop him, your hands desperately clawing at his t-shirt, but he was already throwing himself into the group to help. You watched in horror as the three men struggled to hold it down, and just as Joel was getting ready to bash its skull in with the baseball bat, it lunged forward, knocking Peter and the other man off to the side and pushing Joel onto his back.
Joel held the infected up by its shoulders as it pinned him down, snapping and growling inches from his face. Joel's jaw was clenched tight, his eyes flashed with rage as he summoned all the strength he could manage and pushed it off him, making it stumble backwards. It was just enough time for Joel to reach to his side for his hunting knife and plunged it into the infected’s skull with a guttural yell.
The infected went limp immediately and fell to the floor. Joel stood over the body, tense, covered in blood, and panting heavily with the knife still clutched in his hand. Peter and the other man rushed to join the rest of the group helping the one who was bit in the shoulder, but you raced straight to Joel, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Surprised, he lifted one arm to place it reassuringly on your back, the other still clutching his knife.
You let him go, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks as you frowned at him angrily. He looked down at you, the adrenaline wearing off, and saw the anguish on your face. He reached his hand out to you, but you slapped it away and instead shoved his chest heatedly, making him stumble just a bit in surprise.
"What the fuck were you thinking?!" you seethed, narrowing your eyes at him and fighting to keep the tears from falling. "You could have gotten killed!"
Joel stared at you, still panting slightly, then put the knife back in its holder. He couldn't gauge your reaction. Were you upset he would be killed because then you would be alone, or upset because of something else? He sighed and reached out to you again. This time, you didn't shove him, but you didn't go to him, either.
Josie approached you, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Thank you, Joel, for saving my husband," she said, clutching his outstretched hand in her own, then turned to you. "Don't be mad at your boyfriend, dear, he just saved us all."
Your mouth fell open, and before you could correct her, she went back to Peter and hugged him tightly. Joel cleared his throat beside you, seemingly pleased with himself.
"You heard her," he winked at you. "Can't stay mad at me." You scowled back at him, and with a more serious tone, he added, "us or them, remember?"
You sighed, relaxing your brow. You knew he was right, but you were still pissed off. You turned on your heel and headed back to your abandoned protein bar, effectively ending the conversation.
Joel joined you and watched as the group deliberated quietly on how to deal with the man who was bit. You had learned he likely only had a few hours before he turned, based on the location of his bite. Ultimately, Peter volunteered, and he quickly and privately put the man out of his misery with a kitchen knife. You winced when you heard the squelch of blood from across the platform, burying your face in your shoulder.
You didn't stay much longer after that. Once Joel had gotten his strength back, you picked up your belongings and gave your farewells. Josie and Peter thanked Joel again, and you headed up to the familiar street corner, dusk fast approaching.
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It took you both an hour to walk to Joel's apartment, which normally would have taken ten minutes, but he insisted on going slow and being careful at every turn. When you approached his building, you had to crane your neck all the way back to take in the full height. His building definitely used to have a doorman: it was fancy. You walked into the ornate lobby and turned around in a slow circle, taking in everything from the detailed crown molding to the beautiful, tiled floor that looked more like a piece of art. You almost felt bad for stepping on it. Even the ceiling was vaulted and decorated in tiny, intricate squares with gilded chandeliers hanging from it. Finally, you looked straight ahead and saw an arched window that overlooked a private garden.
"Shit," you whispered, "I almost got an apartment in this building."
Joel turned back to you, surprised, then realized you were being sarcastic when he saw your grin. He smiled to himself and shook his head, leading you down the hallway towards the stairwell door.
"I take it you're not on the second floor?" you asked him quietly as you began to climb the stairs.
"No, little higher than that," he replied. "30th floor."
You stopped dead in your tracks, which made him stop and turn back to you questioningly. He could tell what the problem was when he saw the pained expression on your face without you even having to speak.
"I know, it's gonna take us a while, but we can stop and rest whenever you need to." You sighed and hung your head, continuing your journey up the stairs.
You made it to the halfway point before you had to take a break, sitting on a step, panting and chugging water from your canteen while Joel leaned against the wall across from you, sipping his own water. The sun was going down, so you each dug your flashlights out of your packs before continuing.
"Not much further," Joel panted, turning the corner of another staircase, "then we can rest. No point in diggin' around in the dark, it's been a long day." You nodded, choosing not to speak to conserve your energy, and focused on the flashlight beam ahead of you.
You weren't sure how long it took, but finally you climbed the last step to face the door marked with a big, red "30". That's when you looked up and noticed you were on the top floor. Of course he lives on the top floor.
Joel pushed the door open a crack and peeked down the hall, which was very short and only had two doors and an elevator at the other end. He held the door open for you to walk through, then gently closed it. You frowned, looking back and forth at the two doors, puzzled.
Joel looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight when he saw your confusion, before mumbling, "It's a penthouse," and brushed past you to unlock his door.
You had never seen a penthouse before, but you knew they were for people who were really rich, especially in New York City. He opened the door, locking it behind you. You couldn't really see much other than what your flashlight exposed, but you could tell the room you were standing in was massive. You briefly flicked your light around, taking in some couches, bookcases, a fireplace and some other furniture. You stopped when you noticed the entire wall was top to bottom windows with a balcony attached, and covered your flashlight quickly. Joel kicked off his sneakers, and noticing the dimmer light, turned his flashlight to shine on you questioningly.
"Can't people see in? Like, the lights moving?" you asked. He shook his head.
"Privacy windows," he explained, then turned and headed towards another room. You quickly kicked your own shoes off, skittering after him, sticking close. The place was so huge you were afraid you'd get lost, and the darkness mixed with the eerie silence from lack of power and road noise made the hairs on your arm stand up. As you walked, you shined your flashlight on everything around you, baffled by how far the apartment seemed to stretch. You were so engrossed in your surroundings that you bumped into him when he had stopped walking.
"Oops, sorry," you whispered.
"Why are you whispering? We're safe here," he replied at full volume. You shrugged.
"I don't know, this place is huge, Joel, give me a minute - oh my god, is this your kitchen?!" you exclaimed as your jaw dropped, noticing the kitchen island in front of you that must have seated ten people. On one side. Easily. The island, made of marble or quartz, was white with silver and black specks. You noticed the counter was the same all over the kitchen, even on the built in bar in the corner. The cupboards were a light oak that was soft against your fingertips as you gently trailed them against the wood, wandering around his kitchen in amazement.
Joel watched you as you walked around his kitchen, gently touching the handles of the knives in the block and running your fingers along the countertop. You looked like you had never seen anything like this before, and his chest ached when he wondered what would have happened that night if you agreed to come home with him. You could have seen this place in a whole different light. He could have made you a drink from the bar and played you some music over the sound system. If he was lucky, he could have laid you down on the kitchen island you were so currently fascinated with, your fingers gripping the edges as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear to explore your soaking wet folds, pushing one finger inside you, and then another, slowly teasing you until you begged him for more.
Having you in his place was clouding his mind, he needed to focus. He cleared his throat before heading towards the pantry door. You eagerly followed closely behind and when you realized the pantry was a room as big as your own kitchen, you moaned with envy, causing his eyes to flutter shut momentarily.
"This place is amazing," you told him, sifting through the food on his shelves. You grabbed some peanut butter and crackers, turned and headed back to the kitchen.
"Where's the silverware?" you asked over your shoulder.
"Drawer next to the sink," he replied, and watched as you grabbed a butter knife. He picked up a can of Beefaroni off the shelf and opened the drawer in the kitchen with the can opener after picking a fork out from the silverware drawer you left open in your haste to eat.
He sat across from you at the island, eating his cold Beefaroni out of the can while you slathered crackers with peanut butter and popped them in your mouth. You smirked at his choice of food.
"Chef Boyardee?" you asked curiously, eyebrows raised. "I'm sure your private chef could have made you the real thing from scratch." Joel chuckled.
"Alright, I ain't got a private chef. Besides, this is the real thing. Nothin' beats it."
You smiled, fascinated that a man who lived in such a lavish apartment would have Beefaroni as his guilty pleasure. Feeling full and sleepy, you twisted the top of the peanut butter jar closed, and out of habit ran your tongue along the butter knife to clean it. You didn't even realize how that looked until you heard Joel's breath hitch and he looked down to study the empty can in front of him. Your cheeks felt warm from embarrassment, but luckily, he couldn't see it under the cover of darkness. You cleaned the knife (with a sponge, this time) and Joel's fork, putting them back in the drawer.
"Alright, let's get some shut eye. We should try to get an early start tomorrow, I want to get out of this city as soon as we can," Joel said, grabbing his pack he had set down when you walked in, and headed further down the hallway.
You followed him nervously, looking at the expensive-looking art on the walls and even a few statues on pedestals before reaching his bedroom. He pushed the door open, and your flashlights bounced around the room to illuminate the corners the moonlight hid from view. As expected, his bedroom was spacious with a bathroom and two walk-in closets attached. You noticed one of the closets was void of any clothes, and the other was packed to the brim. You poked your head in his bathroom, sighing enviously when you saw the huge, glass walk-in shower and built in vanity. You turned around to find Joel had dug out a couple lanterns from his closet and placed one on each end table so you could conserve your flashlight batteries. You clicked it off and walked over awkwardly, not sure what the sleeping arrangements should be. Unlike you, he has couches more than big enough to accommodate a grown adult, but the thought of being alone in the living room of this huge apartment made you nervous.
It hadn't even been a question in Joel's mind.
"Hop in and make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back," and he left the bedroom, back down the hallway to double check the locks. You rummaged in your pack for some more comfortable clothes to sleep in, and quickly changed before he returned, nestled under the covers on the most comfortable mattress you had ever been on in your life.
When Joel reentered the bedroom, his thoughts didn't even have time to catch up with how fast he felt the blood rushing to his cock. He squeezed his eyes shut as he blindly walked right to his closet and shut the door so he could change into his pajamas, willing his erection away. He groaned quietly, leaning his head against the wall of the closet, frustrated with how distracted he's been. If he doesn't stop, it could get you or him killed. He would have to do something about it before heading out tomorrow. He was lucky so far, you've had relatively safe places to hole up in, but that was going to end.
When he finally got himself under control, he exited the closet and got into the other side of the bed. You already had your lantern off and you were laying on your side with your eyes closed, exhausted from all the walking and events of the day. His bed was much larger than yours, and he hoped the extra space would help him get his mind out of the gutter. He turned his lantern off, and leaned back into the familiar pillow and sheets, closing his eyes. It was silent for a few minutes before you spoke.
"Joel?" you squeaked.
"Hm?" he replied, keeping his eyes closed.
"This is the nicest apartment I've ever seen, how long have you lived here?"
"About six years or so," he said, shifting a little under the covers. "But I like your place more," he admitted.
"My place?!" you said, outraged. "You could fit my entire apartment into this bedroom, you're crazy."
"Yeah, well, your place felt more..." he trailed off, trying to find the right word. "Like a home. This place feels like a museum."
"I'm sure you could make this place feel just as cozy," you yawned before adding, "this bed, for instance, is the most comfortable thing I've ever laid on." Joel smiled.
"Glad you like it." Sweetheart.
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He waited until he was sure you were sleeping deeply enough before he locked himself into his bathroom and pulled his sweatpants down just far enough to free his throbbing cock, stroking it steadily with one hand while the other propped him up against the wall, eyes screwed shut. His thoughts picked up where he left off in the kitchen, his fingers deep in your pussy, but then he would add his thumb to your swollen clit, making your back arch off the cold counter and gasp his name. His thumb would pick up the pace, keeping up with your moans, rubbing tight circles and flexing and thrusting his fingers inside of you until your body finally stilled under him, whimpering his name as you came.
He imagined you gazing up at him hazily, the same way you looked at him last week outside the bar, but now you would reach out and grab the waist of his jeans, pulling him closer and whisper hoarsely to him, "Please, Joel, I need you, I need more..."
He imagined what it would feel like to slide inside you, your cunt soft and warm, so welcoming and taking him inch by inch. He would grasp your hips, his feet firmly on the ground and your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, one of your hands lost in your own hair and the other firmly holding onto his wrist, eyes rolled towards the back of your head, moaning, as he stretched you out. When he would start moving, he would go slow at first and enjoy the way your tits bounced gently along with his movements. He would do his best to take his time, but he imagined you asking him - begging him - to fuck you harder. Of course, he would give you what you wanted. He would slam into you, over and over, groaning as he would feel your cunt squeezing around him, warning him you were close. His thumb would travel down to your clit once again, pressing firmly from side to side until you were screaming his name and he felt your warm release spill over his cock.
"Fuck!" Joel grunted out into the darkness, as he shot thick ropes of cum over his hand and onto the tile floor, completely losing himself and forgetting to grab a tissue.  He stood there a few minutes, catching his breath, his forehead pressed against the bathroom wall. Finally, he pushed himself away and cleaned up his mess carefully, using his flashlight to make sure he didn't miss anything. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He hoped that would help keep him sharp and focused for tomorrow.
He opened the bathroom door quietly, relieved to see you hadn't moved a muscle since he left. You were still sleeping peacefully, facing his side of the bed with your lips slightly parted. He smiled at the sight, setting his flashlight down and about to slide back into bed when he heard a noise coming from down the hall. He froze, listening intently, trying to figure out the source. He glanced down at you once more to confirm you were still asleep and headed quietly out the bedroom door, carefully closing it behind him.
He walked down the hallway, now on high alert, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He walked by a statue, grabbing it and turning it upside down so the square base was upright in his hand. He gripped it tightly as he neared the kitchen, now hearing rustling and seeing a beam of light coming from the pantry. He glanced around the room before peering around the open pantry door, seeing someone crouched on the floor and rifling through his food, but all Joel could focus on was the revolver on the floor next to him, shining in the moonlight. Shooting one more glance over his shoulder, Joel stepped inside, silently placing the statue down on the floor, and then lunged forward, quickly wrapping his arm around the intruder’s neck, and using his other hand to lock his arm in place. Joel yanked them both up to a standing position, putting his foot over the revolver and shoving it under the shelves in the pantry, out of arms reach. The intruder slapped wildly at Joel's arms, then tried clawing at his face, desperate to loosen his grip so he could breathe, but Joel didn't budge, his grip strong and unmoving, his face contorted in a fury and a heat he never felt before. It didn't take long before the man passed out, but Joel held on a few minutes longer to make sure the air didn't revive him.
Once he was satisfied he was dead, Joel laid him gently on the pantry floor, frantically trying to catch his breath. He slowly picked the statue back up, temporarily forgetting about the gun, and then closed his eyes a moment as his breathing began to stabilize. He reopened them, nostrils flared, and jaw clenched. He needed to make sure the man was alone, and you were safe.
He left the pantry, glancing around the room once again before stepping forward. He was about to enter the hallway to head back towards the living room when something hard hit him across the chest, sending him crashing loudly back into the kitchen, dropping the statue. Joel gasped for air in the darkness, scrambling backwards and reaching around blindly to try to find his statue, but the other intruder kicked it away and pinned Joel down with his own baseball bat. The bat was being pressed to his throat, and Joel struggled to push against the man's weight.
"Who else is here with you?" the intruder sneered. Joel was barely able to make out his face in the darkness.
"No one," he gasped and shook his head, pushing back harder now that he was reminded of you sleeping sweetly in his bed, hoping and praying you stayed in there.
"Bullshit," the man spit. "I saw the shoes by the door. Maybe I'll have a little fun with her after I kill - "
Suddenly, the pressure was gone, and Joel coughed, holding his throat. He whipped around frantically, trying to find anything to use as a weapon, when he heard wet thumping over and over. He stood up, desperately trying to make his eyes adjust to the shadows. Remembering the flashlight, he scrambled back in the pantry and snatched it up, casting the beam of light over the scuffle.
You were bent over and brutally caving in the skull of the man who almost killed him.
Over and over, you aimed the corner of the statue at the man's disfigured face, beating him to a bloody pulp, the squishing sound of blood echoing in your ears. Joel calling your name and grabbing you around the waist was the only thing that stopped you. You dropped the statue and looked him in the eye, like a wild animal cornered and ready to strike. He grabbed your face, repeating your name until your eyes focused back on him. The enormity of what you did hit you in an instant: you just killed a man.
Tears welled up in your eyes and your lips trembled as you continued to stare into Joel’s eyes. He shook his head when he saw the emotion on your face.
“No. No, no, no, no. C’mere,” he said, pulling you into his embrace, and it was then you let the tears flow as you sobbed uncontrollably into his chest, gripping his t-shirt in your fist like a lifeline. He snaked his arm up your back, so his hand rested at the crown of your head, and his other arm tightly squeezed you around the ribs. You both slunk to the floor of his kitchen, holding onto each other for dear life, the horror of the world around you finally making its mark on you both.  
Chapter Nine
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yurislotusgarden · 1 year ago
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Hiii lotuss!!<3 i love ur works they are so cute it makes my empty heart fill up w joy 💔💔
Can i request prompt 6 w chu, dazai and sigma w fem reader? If thats okay ofc!<3
Btw remember to take breaks and eat, drink and sleep well! :D
-💞 anon
ʚїɞ Separately! Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya and Sigma x Gn!Reader
ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!
ʚїɞ The event
ʚїɞ word count: 1k
ʚїɞ Tw’s: None! Just pure fluff, pet names are used, reader’s gender is not specified in any way
ʚїɞ Hi 💞 anon! Thank you for the words, nice to know someone enjoys my works like that <3
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Sun rays fell into the warm room, a comfortable silence and atmosphere, a feeling it would be a good day the moment you woke up.
You would call it a perfect Saturday for a day out, and getting up early to start to start your day while the sun has been up for not too long, and you would do so if it wasn't for a specific brown-haired koala clinging to your waist from behind. Really, was it too much to wish for him to be asleep when you wake up? Getting out of his grip is certainly easier when he's asleep than when he's fully conscious.
"Where do you think you're going, Bella?" But truth be told, his morning voice may make up for the inconvenience if you were to not lie to yourself. "It's too early!~" 
And here comes the quiet whining from the other adult.
"We both have work, Samu. We need to be at the agency in less than an hour so-"
"So it's plenty of time to stay in bed and cuddle with me!"
"I would rather be on time so that Kunikida doesn’t scold us for being late."
"He will scold us for something anyway. What's the difference?"
“I-”
You didn't have an answer to that one. To be fair, that's not exactly a lie, that Man can find any reason to scold a person.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“...”
“Who am I asking? Of course, you don't have an answer when all I'm saying is the truth!~”
You love seeing Dazai happy, don't get it wrong, but this was one of the times when you just wanted to punch that grin off his face-
“Honey.”
“Hmm?” He really thought he won if his face was anything to go by.
“*I love you but we need to get up*”
A displeased groan came from the man and you had thought you won when-
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
“I mean no, you wanna hear it in French? ✨Non✨”
You're so done with this man, and you still had to deal with Kunikida’s scolding later.
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4 hours.
4 hours is the amount of extra time spent in bed by you, wanting to just stay in bed with your boyfriend as he had a whole day off for once. While it was lovely to have more time with Chuuya than usual, it was already 2 p.m. by that point, way past the time when you should’ve gotten up.
“Chu?”
The question was asked in a quiet voice, in case he fell asleep again since the last time the both of you uttered a word.
A hum was a response enough for you to know he’s at least conscious enough to have some sort of a conversation with him. Gently running your nails through his hair, you quietly asked “Don’t you think it’s time to get up?”
A quiet groan came from the man. 
“Nuh-uh”
“Honey.”
“Nooo…” His voice showed just how close to sleeping he was before you spoke up.
“We need to get up-”
“I refuse the offer, now go back to sleep.” But now he seems fully awake? Motherfucker.
“It wasn’t an offer- and it’s 2 p.m.”
Is it even worth trying to argue?
“Do I look like I care about the hour, love?”
“Chuuya!”
“Not changing my mind.”
No, absolutely not.
“I will change your damn mind when I-”
Soft lips were planted on yours for a few seconds to shut you up before pulling away. The ginger head raised his head to kiss you just to shut you up.
“Shush and don’t try to get up, we both know you won’t manage that if I don’t let you.”
But you will always try to argue anyway.
“Fuck you.”
“Gladly.”
He will never get bored of that blossom hue appearing on your cheeks. Never.
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Sleeping in the middle of a million blankets may have not been the best idea.
Sigma has been overworking for the past 2 weeks as per usual and you decided that he needs a good rest, resulting in wrapping you both up in any blanket you found lying around. It was comfortable as hell, yeah, but the bi-colored-haired man had been asked to come down to the Casino for something and yet still didn't get up. Is it really your boyfriend or is it some imposter because you thought you would never see him ignoring anything related to his Casino.
You decided to speak as yet another message went unanswered. “Cotton?”
A sleepy murmur of “Yeah?” made it clear he was listening.
“You need to get up.”
“But I don’t wanna.”
A sigh came from you, and another buzz from his phone could be heard. You were pretty sure that by now around 60 different messages could be seen on the screen unanswered. Of course, that was the number of messages that came after he read the first one asking for him in the first place.
“Sigma.”
One word, and yet his head shot up from the pillow right away. You don’t use his name often, especially in that tone. “Did I do something?”
“Sigma.”
“What?” He was genuinely confused, was he that tired that he didn’t even realize what that message earlier really said?
“Cotton-” You were hoping to calm him down by not using his name anymore. “Listen, I love you, but we, especially you, need to get up.”
“Why?”
“Look at your phone.”
“Okay?”
Let’s just say that the moment his brain processed the 80 messages on his phone, he got out of bed with, what you would say was his record speed, literally speedrunned getting ready you had to help him with his hair and tie because this man would go out in bed hair and very badly tied tie and you managed to get him to take a snack with him since he didn’t eat anything yet.
Some of his workers found out it was you who got him out of bed and thanked you.
You did not answer Sigma’s question when he asked where you got all the sweets from later that night.
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Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated
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necrofuturism · 2 months ago
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If you're feeling hopeless right now, please watch Drawfee.
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If you're not familiar, Drawfee is a comedy drawing show like Whose Line Is It Anyway but with a digital tablet, a stylus, and four amazing artist hosts. Nathan Yaffe, Julia LePetit, Jacob Andrews, and Karina Farek regularly create some of the most entertaining videos and streams featuring fan prompts+challenges and their resulting chaos.
No matter how varied and messed up the drawings get, Drawfee episodes have always shared one thing - unwavering and vocal support for the trans community. Honestly, it's my #1 source for content-based happiness where I feel repeatedly seen and safely reflected in their humor.
Besides that, Drawfee regularly fundraises for LGBTQ+ causes, and its hosts have independently fundraised for the PCRF.
Finally, Drawfee is so encouraging for art! Being an artist myself, Drawfee has always reminded me that while art may be silly, it isn't useless. It may not be serious, but it is important. In a time where art is repeatedly devalued and disparaged, Drawfee is there to say that Art is a central and vital part of community and we all need it.
They have a HUGE backlog of episodes, so you won't run out of things to watch anytime soon. Also, they stream on Twitch and have an extensive archive of livestream VODs if you need some long-form unedited nonsense.
You can join their Patreon for free to get updates on fundraising, live shows, and learning opportunities! Drawfee regularly has live classes for certain tiers of support, but every drawclass is eventually posted to the extra channel linked above. There's something for everyone at any skill level, and even if you don't do digital art I promise you can apply drawclass lessons to a wide range of media and your own personal work ethic.
As a bonus, Jacob and Julia host a regular game stream on Wednesdays and Sundays called SecretSleepoverSociety, which is equally supportive and and cozy especially during stressful times. They also have a huge archive channel on YT in case art isn't exactly your thing or you just want a break from the normal Drawfee shenanigans.
Nathan also streams on Nathan'sOtherShow and Karina can sometimes be spotted in the wild in vtuber form with Onsta! (fellow artist and friend of the show)
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Pictured here: Porfo, the official unofficial Drawfee mascot riding a majestic winged Jacob Horse
While the usual Drawfee end catchphrase is "We're Sorry!" I'm not sorry at all for sharing this source of joy with y'all. I hope it helps bring you some laughs, love, smiles, and support now and in the future.
✏❤🖊
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talenlee · 5 months ago
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3e: Psychofeedback
In game making we’re often talking about feedback loops. That is the idea that when something happens, in a process, it influences that same process the next time it happens. Feedback in audio is a problem you want to avoid. Feedback in marketing is something you want endlessly so you can always make a new excuse for why you need more feedback before committing to an optimal strategy. Feedback is everywhere in every interaction because if you weren’t getting feedback, you weren’t interacting.
TTRPGs are in many cases built on feedback. In most story-run games, ie, anything with what we call a DM or GM interchangeably unless you’re really persnickety about rules language, the game is fundamentally a feedback loop where that story-runner provides a stimulis and the players respond to and incorporate that feedback. Feedback is not a problem, feedback is the whole experience.
Art Source
That’s not what this is about.
This is about a single specific power in 3e D&D, called Psychofeedback, which was so broken I may have gotten it errata’d.
The rules system is 3rd edition Dungeons & Dragons. The book is Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Psionics Handbook by Bruce Cordell and I assume a lot of other people. In this book, we have the power Psychofeedback, and since you’re not in a position to get this book, here’s the relevant rules text, verbatim:
You can use power points to boost your Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution modifiers as a free action. While the duration lasts, you can use power points on a round-by-round basis to boost any or all of your ability score modifiers (not the actual ability score) by a number equal to half the power points you expend for that round as a free action. For example, you can boost your Strength modifier by as much as 8 points (if you spend 16 power points).
That’s the important rules information. It lets you convert psionic power points to stat modifier at a 2:1 rate. Note that it’s not converting to stat points, but to stat modifier. Now, this means you don’t change things like your strength score (relevant for carrying capacity) but your strength modifier (relevant for single acts of strength like breaking objects or attacking people). This was a level 4 power, available for a Psion at level 8, or Psychic Warrior at level 10. It was also, largely, a completely unusable power, as designed, because the conversion rate didn’t really work out very well. It could be useful for a short burst of strength, but you couldn’t, for example, use it to temporarily inflate your hit points, because when your Constitution decreased, you’d lose those hit points you gained first. You could ge tougher, but you’d have to stay spending power points until you were healed. Neat effect but not amazing.
Interesting power, no real application.
Except.
In the same book we have the Mind Feeder weapon property. By level 8-10, it’s very reasonable to expect a character to have access to this weapon, whose rules state:
A mindfeeder weapon grants its wielder temporary power points equal to the total damage dealt by a successful critical hit.
How often do you get critical hits?
In this case, using core rules available items, a scimitar crits on 3 numbers (18, 19, 20). With improved critical, it crits on 6 numbers (adding 15, 16, 17). With Sharpness, it crits on 8 numbers (adding 14 and 13). That means that a mindfeeder weapon could critically hit just under half the time. What this could lead to was a character who dual-wielded small weapons like these and made five attacks a turn at level 10 (because of ubiquitous buff haste).
You can open with a Psychofeedback buff to your attack of, at that level, 26 power points, all you had. That means +13 to your strength modifier, meaning your attack would do something in the district of 1d4+your strength+magical mods+that extra 13 strength. There’s also this feat from the Player’s Handbook called power attack. Power attack let you exchange a penalty on hit for a bonus to your damage rolls. Remember how you spent those 26 power points for a +13 strength modifier? You have therefore, a +13 extra to hit. So without needing to change how likely you are to hit, you’re suddenly getting another +13 extra damage on that attack.
Now double it.
That meant that your first crit, which cost you 26 power points, is going to be like 2.5 dice-roll damage, +1 from the magical weapon, probably, +2 from a totally reasonable base strength mod, +13 from the new strength mod, +13 from power attack, doubled. That’s 63 power points. The next turn, you can turn those 63 power points into strength, for a +31 strength mod. Critting in that turn on five attacks is very reasonably likely, and that gets you 135 power points back. And that’s +67 Strength modifier. That would be equivalent to a strength of 145. While this is going on, your character is stronger than multiple gods of strength, combined.
You have ten rounds to do this, and every single high roll pushes you further ahead. And this is the thing at start; you don’t need to go much further for the wheels to come off this very fast. And this is level ten where you don’t have a lot of ways to build for ridiculous recovery, or forcing more chances to critically hit. Remember, this is a game system that’s meant to scale up past level 20 infinitely!
This is dumb. It’s also 3rd edition so you can even be mobile and do this, haste letting you make a partial charge to close on a new subject and then ginsu it with your full attack. But hey, at least those power points are temporary, so you can’t just spend all your time doing this in every encounter, right? At least you’re not ending every fight on full power points, after having a strength stat somewhere in the triple digits at some point, Right?
Art Source
Normally with these balance problems in the sprawling game system that is Dungeons & Dragons the problem is the intersection of systemic components that were not designed to necessarily know about one another. It’s usually about using parts from two different books, brought together in a way that resulted in something unintentionally powerful. This is different. This is using two things from the same book whose application to one another seems to be pretty reasonably obvious. This is almost as egregious as the problem of the Spelldancer, another 3e all-star with an internal feedback loop that worked with its own features in the most obvious way.
See, the thing is, now Psychofeedback says ‘temporary’ power points. When the book was new, it didn’t say temporary. It didn’t say that and I wrote a treatment on it for the Character Optimisation board showing how the whole thing broke with core material only, and then one of the website writers for the book showed up in the thread and said ‘oh, that shouldn’t work that way.’
Then we got an online errata for the rulebook, and then in the next edition of the book the rule was changed.
Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!
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epickiya722 · 8 months ago
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As much as I would have loved for Kenjaku and Yuji to have more interactions, another part of me now actually liked the little interaction they had.
It's just as tragic, if not more tragic. But also it goes with the idea that Yuji doesn't know his parents or more of his family.
The most he knows now probably is that Choso and the Death Paintings are his (half) siblings and Kenjaku had something to do with it (Choso probably told him so).
Yuji learning about Choso being his brother is a good thing for him. The time he did act unsatisfied with the idea was back in Shibuya. After that, we seen their relationship got better. He had Choso at his side since then.
Now what good would it do if Yuji learned the truth about how he's related Kenjaku and Sukuna? In fact, would he even care?
Remember when Wasuke tried to tell him about his parents? Didn't care to hear that.
When Junpei asked about his parents? Didn't remember little to nothing about his dad and nothing at all about his mom. But he didn't seem entirely brokenhearted. He seemed... like he accepted it, moved past that.
The thing with Yuji is... if Sukuna decides to throw it in their face that they're related, I doubt Yuji would break down in tears and give up fighting.
That's not Yuji.
Two reactions I feel like Yuji would give.
Either he will be furious or he'll brush it off as he normally does with Sukuna's antics.
With him being furious, it will just give him more reason to hate Sukuna and kill him. Family be damned. We seen Yuji angry. Look, Sukuna already got hit with back to back Black Flashes. I don't think he wants Yuji angry. Nuh uh. Sukuna don't do that.
Honestly though... I also feel like Sukuna doesn't give a damn about telling Yuji.
Anyways!
Same with Kenjaku. I don't think Yuji would actually care to know Kenjaku is his mother (by host). Again, what good would it do for him?
I also feel like he may have figured it out by now. Yuji ain't all that dumb now. I said it before but I do think he may have caught on by now or at least will later. And I don't think he would be fazed.
Would he think it would be cruel that Kenjaku have done such things? Yes! Would he not like the fact he was created by Kenjaku to be Sukuna's vessel and be related to those two? Also, yes. He'd hate that idea.
But Yuji just doesn't come off as someone who dwells on the past like that, let alone would be like "oh, woe is me, my family is so messed up" and cry waterfalls.
He's just more of a "What's done is done and I'll do what I can to make the best of it" person to me. He accepts, he learns and does what he can to make the most of out a bad situation.
Him knowing he's related to Kenjaku and Sukuna in some way will not change the fact that they're both evil and done terrible things or Yuji's feelings.
Sometimes I feel like the reason we don't know much about Yuji or Sukuna or others for the Heian Era is for the purpose of not needing to.
Yes, knowing about the past can help. But sometimes knowing, it doesn't have a purpose other than having extra information.
Maybe not knowing much about Sukuna is a way of saying "let's leave the past in the past and move on". Sukuna was not meant to be in the present times. When he's finally put to rest, that should be it for him.
It's why some of the characters like the Higher-Ups and the Zenin clan sucks and came to a downfall. Part of their awful behavior was they were more traditional and didn't care to adapt to the new changes.
That's going to be the case for Sukuna. Yuji is the present and future. Sukuna is the past. Yuji is going to be that new age that rises and push Sukuna right into the dirt where he belong.
Again, them being related and Yuji knowing ain't going to change the fact that Yuji wants Sukuna dead and he's going to kill him. So what would be the point of knowing?
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hippolotamus · 17 days ago
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Fuck it Friday 🥕
tagged by @thekristen999 with some lovely amazing Buddie angst. emerging from the tag day depths with my OCs. @rewritetheending's boys got me in my feels and here we are.
should you feel like continuing, may I introduce you to Sam having a bit of an internal freak out during lunch with her bestie, Mila (who will later be Theo) 💖
For a moment I can pretend we’re back in middle school. Like we aren’t the two twenty-something professionals we turned into when no one was looking. Before we thoughtlessly kissed adolescence goodbye, trading Converse and wide leg jeans for sensible flats and pencil skirts. Before first kisses and dates and everything’s somehow became moving in with Jamie, eventually tumbling into ‘I’m getting married’. Before the unease that everyone says is just cold feet started working its way under my skin.  It started the day Silver Fern Estate called, letting us know the place was ours for the exact day we wanted. With its ponds, gazebos, and restored barn perfect for dinner and dancing and the vitally important sweets bar I insisted I couldn’t live without - it was everything I’d been dreaming of. Except, for reasons I still can’t understand, I was reaching past the hollow feeling in my chest in order to force the giddiness that everyone, including me, was expecting.  “Am I doing the right thing?” I blurt out.  “Well,” Mila answers sagely, “unless you want to be doing the left thing.” It makes me snort and roll my eyes, the way I assume it was meant to. She always did know when I’m too in my head.  “But maybe tell me what I’m evaluating first. Are we talking the spreadsheet you’re working on or…?” My weary sigh gives me away, giving her the chance to cut in before I can elaborate.  “This is about Jamie again.” She waves a bitten off carrot in my direction. “Do we need a new pros and cons list? Another reminder that you’re marrying a great guy who happens to be one of the few that isn’t an asshole?” “As much as I’m sure you’re dying to draw up a new list, no, we don’t need that.” Mila gently elbows my ribs. “Then what, Sam? Help me out here. You’ve got the guy, the venue of your dreams, the rage and fury of every other bride who wanted it that Saturday. And let’s be honest, that’s the real prize.” She’s right, she’s so right. Not as much about winning out over the other couples, but my competitive side is willing to let that stand.  “I don’t know.”  It’s the most truthful answer I can give. Because I can’t say what’s wrong. If there’s actually something wrong or if everyone’s right and it’s just pre-wedding jitters. Mothers and aunts say to trust your instincts but for some reason that logic doesn’t stand in the face of questioning the person you intend to spend the rest of your life with. In that case it’s ‘normal’ and ‘happens to everyone, it’ll be fine’.  Will it really? Will ‘I do’ be the magic incantation to break the curse of nerves and doubt? Do the matching wedding bands form a protective circle? Of course, if that were true, my own parents would still be married.  Maybe I can still pretend, hold on tenaciously to that belief. After all, this isn’t a ‘surprise! We’re pregnant!’ affair. Jamie and I saved, putting in extra hours at work and sacrificing takeout. We planned and scheduled and vetted every little detail. The i’s are dotted and t’s are crossed. In four days, twenty-three hours and sixteen minutes (give or take) I’ll be Mrs. Samantha Bennett.  The realization hits harder, digging its claws in deeper and that only makes me want to avoid it again. I steal Mila’s last bite of carrot as a distraction.  “Maybe I’m just secretly sad that I won't have to put up with founding fathers jokes anymore.”  Like a damn magician, Mila produces another carrot stick from nowhere. “As if I’d ever let you get off that easy, Adams.”
np tagging @diazsdimples @theotherbuckley @midsummersmorn @daffi-990 @stereopticons
@bidisasterevankinard @rewritetheending @eddiebabygirldiaz @dr-shortsighted-owl @elvensorceress
@bi-buckrights @monsterrae1 @thelikesofus @eowon @jesuisici33
@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @bucksbignaturals @holidayslinger @actuallyitsellie @kitteneddiediaz
@lemonzestywrites @spotsandsocks @tizniz @dangerpronebuddie @diazheartsbuckley
@your-catfish-friend @wikiangela @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings @doctorkinney
@acesartemis @bekkachaos @imtheiliad and anyone else who wants to 😘
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esoteric-chaos · 10 months ago
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What is Ancestor Work? Breaking it down and how to start + extra's
TW for death and sensitive topics in this post. Especially when we get into the category of ghosts. You have been warned. The appropriate tags have been placed below.
What is Ancestor work?
Ancestor work is venerating and working with well, you guessed it. Your ancestors. Why do we want to work with them though? Creating relationships with the known and forgotten dead can lead to many great things for yourself such as learning how to break generational curses and cycles. Creating these meaningful and loving relationships with those long since past has been one of the most heartwarming parts of my practice.
I find it is important for people of all ancestry to work with and honour their ancestors. There is much to heal and grow from. We learn through mistakes of the past and some of those mistakes we have to heal from for cycles to be broken.
Who are our Ancestors?
Just who are your ancestors though? According to Honouring Your Ancestors by Mallorie Vaudoise they are your Blood Ancestors, Lineage Ancestors, Affinity Ancestors, Saints, Spirit Guides, Ghosts or Related Spirits.
Blood Ancestors are exactly how they sound. They are the ancestors you find within your family tree that goes all the way back to the beginning of when humans first came around. This goes into the known dead who are ancestors we know of and can be traced back. These ancestors are easier to work with as we have a direct line to them. The unknown dead are unknown ancestors that we can't trace back. Perhaps we only have a name and know nothing about them or maybe we know they existed but have no information at all. This happens to be the case for most of us learning our family tree.
Lineage Ancestors are ancestors we gain through partnerships like marriage, adoption or even initiation such as in a closed society. Examples include religions like Wicca or any religion which needs initiation.
Affinity Ancestors are those who share your cultural identity or even something you are talented in. For example, you are fluent in the arts and you are an artist or musician. You may see a famous passed-on talented artist to venerate as an ancestor. As someone who's LGBTQ+, we can look throughout history and choose to honour and venerate famous LGBTQ+ figures in history as our ancestors as well. In times like this, it is important to venerate and honour these figures in life for strength and courage to move forward.
Saints are found in many cultures. A single example of a saint from a Christian and Catholic point of view is a Christian or Catholic who has passed on and performed miracles before or after death. Then they were elevated to sainthood by the church (This is all from a standpoint as my family comes from a Catholic and Lutheran background). There are also folk saints who are venerated in a specific region or location because of something that was done within that region. Then we have pop culture saints. Pop culture saints for example are people who have influenced or have done things for a group of people that we resonate with deeply. While they do not perform miracles they are venerated as significant to that group.
Spirit Guides are elevated ancestors who have decided to walk alongside us on our journey. They are not usually connected to us by blood or lineage, however, in some cases, they are. In many cultures, you see the concept of a "court". Which is a group of guides. I refer to my ancestors, guides and deities as my spiritual team personally as I am not involved in such cultures that use courts but still am among the belief that I have a group of close guides on my journey as do most others without encroaching on that culture's significance.
Ghosts as Mallorie Vaudoise in Honouring Your Ancestors I agree with their description of ghosts. Some spirits are burdened by the realities of what they went through during their living days. Some call it spiritual disease or they simply lack the power to aid. The spiritual disease of their burdens causes them to act irresponsibly. A lot like Mallorie Vaudoise I too was told ghosts still roam this plane due to unfinished business and they seek resolution through the living for now they feel powerless or they wish to still seek what they started. This can be a grey area for things like passing on murder victims, abusers, children, and relatives. When you are getting into spiritual work it is very important you have strong boundaries and protections. If you do not want to help a spirit move on since you do not identify as a working medium. Do NOT let them step on you. Assert your boundaries, banish and protect. It is not your responsibility to handle the business of otherworldly concerns just because you are a practitioner. If you would like to help a spirit move on, praying in their name to help ease them into the afterlife is a great way to do so to give them strength. May I repeat though, not your responsibility if that is not your focus point.
Related spirits such as land spirits, house spirits and non-human ancestors.
Land spirits are spirits which reside on the land you live on. They can be humans, plants or animals that were born, lived or passed on that land. Honouring the spirits of the land is very important. The land has gone through so much grief and colonization, rebuilding that relationship to take care of the land in turn they will take care of you.
House spirits are arguably land spirits. They reside on that very same land that you do. Proper acknowledgement of the house spirit itself (spiritual upkeep & physical cleaning) and the spirits that live within that old home. They can be from the materials that the foundation of that home is built on or other lesser-known entities. Try speaking to what's in your home. You'll be surprised by what you find.
Non-human ancestors. Through evolution, we have evolved from animals through a series of evolutions before that. So what makes you think we cannot have animal ancestors? Try doing some deep diving into evolution and doing some work with those animals or organisms. You might be pleasantly surprised.
Building your Ancestor Altar
Now that we have what an ancestor is out of the way. How do we build our altars and reach out?
Let's dive into how to make an altar space. We can add some simple tools such as fire, water, an altar cloth, pictures or representatives of ancestors like human skulls (please not real ones obviously), any holy images that bring personal power, offerings and methods of communication.
Fire aids in symbolism in prayer across cultures. If you cannot have real candles on your altar because your altar is within an unsafe place to do so, electric candles are excellent.
Water is said to represent the medium through which the spiritual energy passes. Have you ever felt really dehydrated after a spell, working or spiritual contact? So have I. You can only imagine how dehydrated your ancestors must feel. Leave them an offering of water and maybe even a snack in honour. Remember after veneration to hydrate and fuel yourself too.
Altar cloths are not just there to look pretty. They represent the hard work of our ancestors weiving and working with cloth over the years. Their beautiful craftsmanship is never forgotten. A simple piece of cloth on the altar is a great representation of all of their hard work.
Pictures or representations of our ancestors act as an anchor to connect with them. When I am working with the known dead I'll place photos of them and their names, birth dates and death dates along with a few notes on the back of their photo. With the unknown dead I'll use statues or skulls in place of them. My mother who recently passed is a good example of this. I placed her photos, and ashes, along with some things she may have liked on her little corner.
Holy images. Maybe your ancestors were religious and find comfort in religious imagery. Even incorporating your family's patron saint on the altar might bring them some joy. Do what feels right for you and them.
Offerings. Leaving them offerings such as water, coffee, alcohol, tobacco, and food. Anything you personally love especially as a sweet little treat. I find something you have a hard time parting with like that last piece of candy to be a great offering or that dish you're cooking that's been within the family for years.
Dedicated pendulum, tarot or any other method of communication so you can communicate with them efficiently.
What can I do with my Ancestor Altar? How to work it.
There are many ways you can work with your ancestor altar. You can use it as purely an act of prayer and veneration or you can use it as both for veneration and working.
Leaving oils, charms, bags and other spiritual items on the altar overnight to bless and give an extra kick or even some mundane items.
Incorporating them into a spell working for prosperity, blessings, healings, protections, etc.
Active working to break generational trauma and curses. Working through breaking cycles and helping them heal.
Turning to them for guidance and direction through divination from the tools in their space.
Aid in spiritually cleansing myself and my space from any negative influences.
How to reach out?
Reaching out there are many different methods. There are methods through prayer and divination for example. Many different people from different cultures and religions will have different ways of reaching out and praying. I never actively practiced any religion growing up so I adopted prayer through a folk catholic perspective from what my ancestors practiced and used my tarot deck as an adjacent. There's wrong way to pray. We pray from what feels right to us and from what is respectful.
Conclusion
There's no right or wrong way to work with your ancestors except for building a practice solely on gain. By gain, I mean getting them to do things for you. It is a relationship you are building. If that is not what you are seeking then ancestor veneration is not for you. It's the same for any relationship spiritual or not. Relationships freely flow between each other with mutual aid. Not everything is purely transactional. Keep things respectful and everything will be okay.
To close out I'm sure everyone is wondering "Do I have to work with my ancestors who did awful things?" the answer is no. We have to heal from and acknowledge what happened. Move forward with purpose and do the work but we absolutely do not have to go anywhere near them. Spirits are not all-knowing and not all have done the required work. I will echo a previous statement of mine. It is not your responsibility to handle the business of otherworldly concerns just because you are a practitioner.
If that person has not changed and grown in death. Move on and grow from the experience. While not everyone will agree with me I believe it is important to work with things when you are ready. A newer practitioner will not be prepared to work with such heavy energy. It will have to be worked with one day to heal but do not throw yourself in if you are not ready or maybe you just aren't equipped to do it and maybe it is someone else's journey in your lineage, not yours. Do not be hard on yourself if that is the case. Not everyone is built for that or ready. Be kind to yourself, that's what your ancestors want.
Extra's
Ancestor Oil
Need an oil for communication, veneration and one to work with your ancestors for all purpose? I got your back.
What you'll need
A clean and cleansed jar
Frankincense - helps in hardships, divine connection
Peppermint - money matters, underworld symbolism
Rosemary - protection, remembrance 
Rose - raising spiritual vibration, love, symbol of blood
Lavender - Grief, dream work, relaxing
Myrrh - Spirit communication, psychic power, grief
Allspice - Awaken ancestors, drawn in favour
Coconut carrier oil - Moon, emotions, divination, spirit
You can either do the folk method or the hot method. You can find my post on infused oils here to learn how to make infused spell oils. I suggest if you are an animist or someone who wants more power from your oils. Speak to the herbs kindly, treat them less like an ingredient and ask them respectfully for their aid and the purpose they'll have in your oil. Use intention. The same goes for the Coconut oil.
You can sub any of these, however. Try to keep within the theme of the ingredients. Some of these are herbal allies so they will work differently for me than you. Do what feels right.
Blessings!
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something-tofightfor · 5 months ago
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Liminality: Part 11
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader
Word Count: 6,768
Rating: R - for violence, injury, blood, fear etc.
Summary: Finding yourself face to face with the Chaos Wolf, you realize just how terrifying the creatures can be. For the first time, you're forced to face your fear and rely on your own survival instincts.
But having good intentions doesn't mean that things turn out the way you hope they will... and this encounter may lead to the reveal of much more than you intended.
Author’s note:
Sorry to keep you hanging for so long; life gets in the way sometimes. Thank you for being patient, and for sticking around. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Wanna talk about Wolf Frankie or his friends? My inbox is always open.
Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)
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You heard a low growl, and then, as your grip on the phone tightened, you saw the wolf break from the treeline and head straight toward you. 
Instinctively, you backed up. 
But you’d misjudged your position and went sprawling over the legs of one of the outdoor chairs that surrounded the small fire pit, another cry escaping your lips. You kept the phone in your hand, though, determined to do something good with what might have been the final few moments of your life. You’ll know what he looks like. You’ll know what it looks like so you can find him. 
It had only been seconds, but if felt like much longer,  and as the wolf got closer to you, you used what little light you had to assess it. It was big and it was fast, and unlike Frankie, it was dark, its fur shorter than you expected. But it’s limping. Still. And unlike Frankie’s warm golden eyes, this wolf’s were orange bordering on red and catching the light made them glow the same way they had in the darkness. It looks mean. It looks… 
You scrambled away from it, and instead of trying to go for the RV’s door, you went for the chair on the other side of the pit, hoping that you could grab the gun and at least get a shot off before it got you. But that was wishful thinking - and you knew it. Where the fuck are you, Will?
You screamed again when it reached you, stopping just short of where you were and lowering its head. 
Your first instinct was to kick outward at it and hope you made contact. But it swiped at your leg, claws easily tearing through the pants you’d changed into earlier as it deflected the first blow. That didn’t stop you from lashing out a second time with the same leg, splatters of blood raining down on the dirt around you. When you made contact, the heel of your foot catching it somewhere on the shoulder, you heard it grunt, the sound oddly human. 
It backed away and then stared at you, head tilted to one side… and then the wolf growled, lowering its head a second time without taking its eyes off of you. You only had a split second to think, and when you closed your eyes, it was Frankie’s face you saw - his bright smile from the night you’d first met flashing in your memory. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
The crack of a gunshot caught you off guard, a piercing howl of pain filling the air immediately afterward. And when you opened your eyes again, you saw the wolf spinning away from you and tearing back for the trees, leaving a trail of blood behind it. Will’s voice came moments later, and then he was beside you, the blonde on his knees as he assessed your injury. 
“Did it bite you?” 
“No.” You forced the word out, still holding onto your phone. “No it sw…swiped at me, and …” Your leg hurt - the wound was painful, even though it wasn’t huge. “Fuck, Will, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I -” 
“We need to get up into the blind in case it comes back.” He moved to crouch in front of you, taking your face between both hands and forcing you to look at him. “Can you walk?”
“I think so.” You flexed your toes, nodding. “I can’t climb a ladder though. I -” 
“There’s a pulley.” He nodded, his voice calm, though you could see how tightly he was wound. “I’ll get you up there.” You nodded back, glancing down at your phone. Still recording, but I can stop now, I … 
He helped you to your feet and you ended the video, stuffing the phone back into your pocket. Will put an arm around you to help support your weight, but it still took longer than you knew he would have liked to get to the trees where the blind was. “Will, I can try to climb. I -”
“No.” He pointed. “We’ve got supplies up there that are heavier than you and we sure as shit didn’t haul ‘em up by hand.” You watched as he tugged on a rope, the muscles in his biceps flexing, and then a few seconds later, a wooden platform came into view as it lowered from above. “It’s only about 20 feet up. We had ‘Fish as a wolf run and jump as high as he could, and it was still too high for him to reach.” He gestured with one hand. “Get on and sit. It’s smooth, I swear. We’ve all done this before.” 
That made you smile, even though your still-pumping adrenaline was fading fast. You did as he asked, lowering yourself at the center of the platform, and then without warning, Will was lifting you into the trees. You didn’t want to question it, but you had to wonder how it was rigged - and what exactly they had stored up in the blind that required an elevator. 
You got your answer moments later when you rose through the hole in the floor of it and saw what you would have described as a small studio apartment inside of the space. This is like a fucking treehouse. There was a twin sized mattress under a covered window on one side, along with a crate that you assumed contained food and drinks. There was a larger crate on the opposite side, and resting on top of that was a laptop. The entire space was lit by string lights, and they cast an almost cozy glow down on you. 
“What the fuck?” Scooting off of the platform and onto the floor, you peered over the edge and called down to Will.  “I’m up here, do I need to -”
“No. You’re good.” He looked up, nodding. “Back away, I’m gonna bring it back down here.” You were confused but did what he asked, and once the platform was out of sight again, you scooted back and then leaned against the wall, your injured leg stretched out in front of you. 
You were bleeding steadily, and as you eyed your leg, you wondered if Will realized just how bad your injury was. That didn’t matter, though. What mattered was that you were safe, and that you only had a few hours until Frankie was back - and the three of you could get the fuck out of the woods for a month. 
Will called up to you as he climbed the ladder, and when you saw his head poke up and through a smaller door in the floor, you actually laughed, the sight of him calming you more than you thought it would. “I went and got your gun. Figured we should both have one.” 
You thanked him, taking the weapon and cradling it to your chest, and then for the next few minutes, you watched him go into soldier mode. 
He raised the platform a second time, pulling it all the way to the ceiling and securing it there. That left a gaping hole in the floor, but when he pulled the rope all the way up, too, you understand what he was doing. If it tries to jump at us, we’ll see it. Once that was done, he sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Will, I -”
“Don’t you dare apologize.” He met your eyes, head shaking back and forth. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Didn’t I? I should have had the gun. I should have been prepared. “I need to clean and bandage your leg. I’ve gotta see if it’s going to need stitches.” You hadn’t even considered that, but once again, he was right. Shit. 
Will unloaded the contents of his pockets onto the mattress and then opened a second crate, pulling out the largest first aid kit you’d ever seen. I’m not surprised, though. He pressed a button near the end of the light strand, and the room brightened, giving you your first real look at your leg. 
There was blood pooled beneath it, and you got a glimpse of your skin through the torn fabric. It hurts. He settled down next to you and carefully lifted your leg, resting it atop his knees. “I’m going to pull your pant leg up, alright?” You nodded, fingers curled in against your palms. He acted without pause, peeling the torn material away and then folding it over on itself. “I’m going to clean it now. I’m sorry, but it’s probably going to hurt like a sonofabitch.”
You mumbled a thank you for the warning but kept quiet otherwise as Will took things step by step. It wasn’t quite as bad as you’d thought once the blood had been wiped away, and you both heard and saw his sigh of relief when a trio of slashes was revealed, proving that it had only been a claws and not teeth that pierced your skin. 
He cleaned it deftly, his fingers carefully moving over your leg, and then Will applied a generous amount of antibacterial ointment before reaching for the kit again. “Good news.” He held up a bandage. “I don’t think you need stitches. It’s deep, but as long as you’re careful, I think it’ll close on its own.”
“Frankie’s not going to let me be anything but careful, Will.” Covering your face with both hands, you tilted your head back. “I feel like such an idiot. I set the gun down to make a video for him, and then I wandered away from it, and …”
“Wait, you took a video? Were you recording when it came at you?” He sounded stunned, and when you met his eyes again, nodding, you saw something like excitement in them. “That’s fucking great. Now we’ll know what it looks like, and if someone ever blames Frankie for this shit, we can prove it’s not him.” You hadn’t even thought of that, but it was the truth. “Oh, that’s amazing.” His smile grew, Will’s attention focused on you. “He might not kill me now.”
“Kill you? Why?” Will raised a brow and dropped his gaze to your leg, tapping on your ankle with one finger. “Because I got hurt?”
“I hesitated.” He spoke quietly, but there wasn’t a long pause before he started to explain. “Not because I didn’t want to shoot it, but because it was so close to you, and if I missed, or you moved …” That was something that you didn’t want to think about, and for long moments, both of you were quiet. But I do have to ask… 
“Did you hit it? It ran like you did.”
“I did.” Will nodded. “Hit it in the leg. There’s blood all over the clearing from both of you, so we’re going to have to clean that up tomorrow morning before we leave, but wherever it is, it’s hurt.” 
“That means it’s been hurt two moons in a row.” You spoke without thinking, and only caught yourself once you’d finished. Shit. Shit, I shouldn’t have … “I mean…”
“What do you mean?” He leaned in, frowning. “How do you know that?” You could blame it on the pain - or the lingering adrenaline - but no matter how you framed it, you’d blown your cover. 
“I…” Just tell him. “Will, I’m not really here because I’m writing a book about Tampa.” You rubbed at one eye, sighing. “I mean, I am writing, but that’s not …” Straightening up as much as you could, you repositioned your legs so that your bandaged one was stacked on your other one, elevated slightly. “My family hunts werewolves. I saw the articles about the attacks, and so I came here.” 
“Before you say another word…” He stiffened, and for the first time, you saw anger in his expression, his eyes going flat. “Does Frankie know?” Of course that’s his first question.
“He does.” You let out a shaky breath. “That’s why he told me what he was. He did come to my place after last month because of what Benny and I heard and because of the attack, but it wasn’t that he started to shift, it was that he saw all of my research.” You stared directly into his eyes and continued. “My cousin was the last one attacked. And the only reason he survived was because a wolf… his fiancee as a wolf protected him and chased the other one away.”
“What the fuck.” He stood, pacing back and forth as he looked down at you. “You’re joking.” 
“I’m not. I wish I was. They came here because I told them what was going on, and were in the wrong place at the wrong time and … she bit the other wolf. She hurt it. And I knew she hurt it because I went to the hospital to see him that morning and she told me.” 
It felt good to tell him. It made you feel lighter to be honest with one of Frankie’s closest friends. And they all deserve to know. “Is he alright?”
“He is. He didn’t get bitten either, just clawed. He got it way worse than me, though.” You pressed a hand to your belly, sighing. “Frankie’s arm was also bothering him that morning, and for a split second, I thought …”
“You thought it was him so you pulled the gun.” Will stopped moving and then crouched down, looking you in the eye. “This is fucking nuts. Why did you lie?”
“We thought that the more people that knew, the more dangerous it got. You guys own the bar and there are hundreds of people in and out every week. Something slipping could have been bad, so Frankie suggested that we tell you guys that I knew, just not … the whole truth about why.” 
“Smart.” He nodded. “Every now and then ‘Fish surprises me.” That made you laugh, and when Will extended his hand, you took it and let him help you to your feet. “It’ll be more comfortable if we sit on the mattress.” He waited for you to take the few steps necessary to reach it, and when you were sitting, he moved a smaller crate in front of you so that you could keep your leg elevated. Will busied himself in front of the large container for a few minutes and then lowered himself next to you, reaching over to hold out a bottle of water and a few tablets. “These’ll help with the pain. Prescription strength ibuprofen. Nothing bad.” You took the pills and swallowed them dry, squeezing your eyes shut. 
“He’s going to freak out when he comes back and there’s blood everywhere and he can’t find us.” You knew that he’d think the worst, and wished that you’d been just a little more careful. We could have ended this. 
“He is. But it’s better than the alternative.” You agreed and then let your mind drift. You could hear the creatures in the forest again, bugs and frogs and then, after a while, the hoot of the owl. It relaxed you, because it meant that the wolf that had attacked you was long gone - unless Will’s shot had injured it more than he’d anticipated. But we wouldn’t ever be that lucky
You actually dozed off a few minutes later, head tipping to the side and resting against Will’s sturdy shoulder. His voice brought you back to attention, even though he spoke quietly. “So you didn’t know when you met ‘Fish? The two of you meeting was … on accident?”
“It was. I saw one of Tom’s ads while I was in a hotel, and reached out because I needed somewhere to stay. He recommended your bar and Frankie for helicopter tours, and it all just spiraled from there.” 
“What are the fuckin’ odds?” You’d asked yourself that multiple times a day since you’d arrived in Florida, and you told Will as much. His laugh was genuine, but it was short-lived, as was yours. “Will you tell me more about what you do? Why you do it? Before he got bit in South America, I didn’t know any of this shit existed, but over the last couple years, it’s been… I’ve learned a hell of a fuckin’ lot even though we knew nothing for sure.” 
There was nothing you could do to put your secret back under wraps, and so you took a deep breath before clearing your throat.  “My great-great-great grandma was the first person in our family to have been bitten…” 
— 
You talked to Will for almost an hour, but then you started to drift again, even though you knew it was approaching sunrise. 
He’d given you a blanket to wrap around your shoulders right around the time you’d gotten to the part where you took over the hunt, and the material was soft. You snuggled into it, yawning, and to your surprise, Will let you lean against him, even going so far as to put an arm around your shoulders to steady you. 
“Get some rest. We can talk more later.” He sighed. “Before that, though, I have one more question for you.” What’s he going to ask? “Do you want me to tell him I know, or do you want to do that?”
“We’ll tell him together.” You yawned again, covering your mouth with one hand. “I never wanted to lie to you guys, or for him to. It didn’t feel right.” He hummed, and you couldn’t tell what the tone of the noise was, but it didn’t matter. After that, you stopped fighting sleep - and it came quickly. 
But it didn’t last long, and you were startled awake by the sound of Frankie’s frantic voice, the man screaming your name from below you. “Shit.” You pushed to your feet and then hissed when you put weight on your injured leg, nearly toppling back down onto the mattress before Will caught you. “Fuck, he -”
“It’s fine.” He squeezed your arm. “It’ll be fine.” Will knelt down and then leaned over the opening in the floor. “‘Fish, we’re up here.” You peered over, too, and were stunned to see Frankie wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts standing in the clearing beneath you, both hands in his hair. He looks so worried. Shit. I never wanted … “We’re both up here, and we’re fine, but -”
“What the fuck is all this blood?” He sounded almost frantic, and the expression on his face when he looked up and focused on you nearly broke your heart in two. “I smell another wolf. Who got -”
“Frankie, it’s mine. Some of it is -”
“WHAT?” He roared the word and you heard Will groan, his fingers tightening against the edge of the cutout. “What the fuck do you mean it’s yours?” 
“Let me climb down, ‘Fish, and then we can get her down, and we’ll explain.” Will looked over at you and you saw the concern in his eyes. “But you’ve gotta calm down. I’ve got blood on my clothes, and so does she, and it’s not going to do anyone any good if you… react.” 
Frankie rubbed both hands over his face and you watched as he took a deep breath and held it, his broad shoulders relaxing after long moments. “I’m good. You can come down, Ironhead.” Will backed away from the opening and then stood, fingers combing through his short hair. 
“I’m going to climb down, and then we’ll bring you down the same way I pulled you up, alright? Two of us, it’ll be easier.” He leaned in, his eyes locked with yours. “He needs to see that you’re alright, so you need to be ready as soon as -”
“I understand.” You lowered yourself into a sitting position, staring up at him. “Be careful climbing down, Will.” 
He assured you that he would, and then after unhooking the platform from the roof and letting it drop through the opening, Will disappeared down through the trapdoor, the gun still tucked securely into his waistband. You leaned forward and looked beneath you, watching as he made his way down the ladder to where Frankie was standing. They talked for a few seconds, Will holding a hand up to keep Frankie at a distance, but you didn’t see defensive posture in either of them before Frankie looked up and met your gaze. 
You saw what you could only describe as fear in his eyes, and with shock, realized that for two months in a row - ever since you’d met - he’d spent the morning after the full moon worrying about you. This can’t keep happening. I can’t be the reason he feels like this. We need to find this wolf. 
He joined Will near the rope, and when the platform appeared again, you positioned it and secured it so that you could climb on, swearing when you moved your leg to get it situated. You tugged on the rope to let them know that you were ready, and when you began the journey down to where the two men were, you steeled yourself for what was to come. 
You were shocked at the amount of blood on the ground, your eyes moving over the semi-dried puddles and splashes, following the trail to where it disappeared into the woods. There was a second one that followed your path to the blind, but that one was smaller. That means he got the wolf good. You don’t bleed like that if it’s just a graze. 
Frankie dropped to his knees as soon as you hit the ground, and before you could say a word, he had his hands on you, the man’s touch gentle as he assessed the extent of your injures with his eyes and hands. “Are you alright?” Will stayed quiet and so did you, even as you nodded, but when Frankie reached your leg - and then your injury, his entire body going rigid, you knew it was time to speak up.
“It clawed me. Will took care of it. I wasn’t bitten. It hurts, but it feels better than it did, and -”
“I’m going to fucking kill this goddamn wolf.” His fingers hovered over the bandage, Frankie’s breathing fast as he stared at you. “I’m going to find out who it is and I’m going to rip its goddamn throat out.” You’d never heard him sound so angry, and even though it scared you, there was a part of you that was responding to Frankie’s promises in a very different way. Who wouldn’t? “What happened? Why were you outside?” 
He looked at you first, head shaking back and forth. He’s going to be so disappointed. “It was my fault. I left the gun on the ground and circled the fire pit. I wasn’t even thinking.” 
“She was making you a video, ‘Fish. We both fell asleep in the RV and then she went outside, and the next thing I knew, she was screaming for me.” You leaned into Frankie’s touch, his palm curved against your jaw, thumb moving over your cheek in a slow, steady arc. “I had no shot at first. It was … she was between me and it, and I couldn’t risk her moving.” 
“It came out of the woods and ran straight at me.” You swallowed hard, maintaining eye contact with Frankie. “I reached for the gun and didn’t have it. I knew it wasn’t you. I was ready to shoot it.” Shaking your head, you chewed on your lower lip for a few more seconds before saying anything else. “It was playing with me, Frankie. It charged like it was going to plow into me, but at the last second, it pulled back and just … swiped.” 
He looked down at your leg - the first time he’d averted his eyes from your face since he’d locked his gaze on you. “It didn’t try to bite you?” You shook your head no. “Fuck. I should have stayed. I shouldn’t have run.” 
“Will hurt it, Frankie.” You reached up, covering his hand with yours and easing it away from your face. “He shot it. And there’s so much blood, it had to have been hurt bad, so -”
“Apparently, I hurt it for the second month in a row.” Will cleared his throat and you and Frankie both looked up. You felt his fingers curl beneath yours, but before Frankie could speak, Will continued. “It slipped. She told me about why she’s here and what happened last month.” 
“Shit.” Frankie hung his head. “Oh, shit.” 
“It’s fine.” You sighed, the sound turning into a short laugh. “It’s better that people know. They were going to find out sooner or later.”
“I get it, ‘Fish.” Will moved closer, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re protecting your girl. You’re protecting yourself. I would have done the same.” 
Neither you or Frankie corrected Will’s label on your relationship, and for the first time, you realized that you didn’t need to. Because I think I am his girl. And I like the way that sounds. “We should get you inside, Frankie. Get you something to drink, and some clothes, and -”
“I’m staying with you.” He rolled his shoulders back and for the first time, you stared at him and saw the way he looked in the early morning light. His skin was dirty, curls tangled atop his head, and his face was even more stubbled than usual. It suits him. Somehow, it … 
“You two go ahead and go back inside. I’m going to follow the trail and then clean up out here.” He gestured to the clearing, shrugging. “Gotta rake over the blood, get the blind secured … you know the drill.” 
“Help me up?” You tugged on Frankie’s hand. “I’ll come inside with you. I can clean everything up in there while you shower.” He looked like he wanted to argue with you, but instead, Frankie did help you to your feet and then looped an arm around you to give you some support. “That alright, Will?”
“Yes.” He nodded, lips curving upward briefly as he watched you. “That’s fine.” 
You left him behind as you and Frankie slowly made your way back to the RV and then inside, closing the door behind you. 
Your leg hurt, the ibuprofen doing little to dull the ache, but you didn’t want to tell Frankie. He needs to keep his routine. He needs to go shower and - “Are you really alright?” He spoke quietly, leaning against the edge of the counter and crossing his arms. “Because -”
“I am.” You sat at the table, resting your hands on the surface. “There were a couple seconds where I didn’t think I had a chance, but …” Looking down at your hands, you swallowed hard. “But I’m fine. Won’t be walking a whole lot for the next couple days, but it could have been a lot worse.” It almost was a lot worse. “Go shower. I’ll get stuff packed up so we can leave when you’re done.” 
“Will knowing means everyone is going to know.” He said your name, tone serious. “Benny won’t be a big deal, but Tom… he might not… he doesn’t like liars.” 
“I’m not afraid of Tom.” You pushed yourself to your feet, angling your body toward Frankie. “We had a valid reason not to say anything. It’s not like I knew when I reached out. I -” Lowering your head, you closed your eyes. “I should have told you sooner. Maybe then Alec wouldn’t have gotten attacked or -”
“No.” Frankie stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “You did everything right. And it was my decision not to tell anyone, not yours. So if Tom’s gonna be pissed he can be pissed at me.” 
Even though Frankie smelled like the forest - leaves and dirt and sweat - you didn’t want to let him go. Pulling away enough that you could look up at him, you slid your hand along the back of his neck, urging him closer. “Frankie, pl-”
“Stop.” It was the first time he’d denied you, and you saw resolve in his eyes. “I’m not going to kiss you until I shower and brush my teeth.” He held you tighter, and you saw him struggling to keep his word. “Not after spending a night in the woods.” You wrinkled your nose at that, Frankie’s words reminding you of exactly what he’d been doing for the previous hours. 
He let you go moments later, squeezing your arm and then disappearing down the hall and into the small bathroom, his bag over one shoulder.
It took you longer than it would have without an injured leg, but you could still hear the shower running by the time you’d changed clothes, packed all of your stuff up and were ready to go. Will was still raking the clearing, and you could see that he was almost done. You figured that he’d finish just about when Frankie did. Good. That means we can go home soon. 
 You watched him through the window, Will meticulously obscuring the evidence that anything had happened the previous night. I should have taken pictures of the blood. I should have followed it into the woods just to see - 
“You still want that kiss?” Frankie’s arms wound around you from behind, the man resting his chin on your shoulder. “Because my mouth doesn’t taste like I’ve been drinking pond water all night anymore.” 
You turned before he was even finished, nodding. “Fuck yes I do.” He laughed, but you cut the sound off with the press of your lips to his, the fingers of one hand tangled in his damp curls. 
There was no hesitation on your part. 
You didn’t care that he’d been a literal wolf an hour earlier. You were unbothered by the fact that he’d likely done things overnight that no human should have even considered. The only thing you were focused on was the way he held you and the way he kissed you, one large hand splayed out against your back and the other cradling your skull. 
“I thought it got you.” He mumbled the words between kisses, voice low. “You and Ironhead, and -”
“It didn’t.” You pressed your forehead to his. “We got him. And he’s hurt, Frankie. This isn’t like Ashley biting him. I don’t know how fast you heal if you’re hurt as a wolf, but -”
“Will shot him with silver, so …” Frankie kissed you again, mouth soft as it pressed against yours. “So until he gets that out, or unless it went straight through, it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker. And if he couldn’t get it out before he turned back into a human, he’ll heal like a human.” 
You hadn’t even considered that, but it made sense. He’d heal faster as a wolf, but as a human it’s just … oh, damn. “I hope you don’t know that from experience.” 
“Not a gunshot, no. And never silver. But other injures have followed that pattern.” He sighed and then yawned, groaning. “I -”
“D’you think that the two of you could finish that somewhere else?” Will interrupted you, the man standing just inside the door with both hands on his hips. “I’m fuckin’ exhausted and I still have to drive us home.” 
In spite of everything, you laughed at his words, Frankie following suit shortly after. “Yes, Will.” You swiped at your face with one hand, the laugh turning into a yawn. “Since you asked so nicely.” 
— 
 Will dropped the two of you off at Frankie’s, promising that he wouldn’t say anything about the previous night until you’d had time to rest. Frankie thanked him, but hadn’t said much else before heading straight into his kitchen and downing glass after glass of cold water, his back to you and covered only in a thin t-shirt. 
You didn’t know what to say, or where to begin, but Frankie took care of that for you, twisting the water off and then turning back to face you with his arms crossed. “I put you in danger. You being there with me was -”
“No, me being there with Will was what saved my life.” You made your way to him, trying not to wince when you put weight on your injured leg. “Don’t do this. Don’t try and paint this situation like you put me in fucking danger when I’ve never felt safer than I do when I’m around your friends or you in either form.” You stopped inches away from him, bracing your weight on the counter. “I was where I wanted to be. I am where I want to be. So don’t give me the bullshit about pulling away to save me, because that’s exactly what it is. Bullshit.” 
He looked surprised at your outburst, but you meant every word. “You could have been killed. You could have been bitten, and I honestly don’t fucking know which would be worse.” That hurt - and for the first time, you flinched away from him. 
“I wasn’t. I’ll be fine in a few days. It’ll probably scar, but Jesus, Frankie, it was worth it. I know what it looks like now. It’s hurt. It was limping when it ran across the clearing at me, which means that Ashley fucked it up. And now Will did, too. That’s two months in a row that it wasn’t successful in attacking anyone. And that means it’s going to be pissed. And that means it’s going to get sloppy.” 
Your words had an impact - you saw the look in his eyes change as you spoke, anger turning to understanding. I’m right and you know it. “I was fucking terrified. I came back and I smelled blood. I saw blood. Neither of you were in the camper, and I knew it was another wolf. I thought …”
“I know.” You closed the distance, winding your arms around his neck. “I know what you thought. But I’m right here. I’m fine, Francisco.” Twisting a curl around one finger, you tugged on it. “If you’re not too tired, I can give you a demonstration of just how fine I really am.”
“That’s not fair.” He finally smiled, his grin a welcome change - and enough of a switch in demeanor to make you sigh in relief. “You’re gonna make me say no to you?”
“I’m not going to make you do anything.” You leaned in, running your nose alongside his and then kissing him on the corner of his mouth. “But I know you’ve got to be exhausted, so you can always take a raincheck.” 
“I think I’m going to have to.” He groaned, turning his head so that he could kiss you, his mouth pressed to yours as he replied. “I can barely stand up.” That didn’t stop him from kissing you again, though, Frankie’s tongue teasing against the seam of your lips briefly before you parted them for him. He encircled you with his arms, hauling you even closer, and you let him, the edges of your nails digging into his back, and the fingers of your other hand tangling in his hair. 
“Then let’s get you to bed.” You paused long enough to take a breath, teeth closing around his lower lip and tugging once you’d spoken. “I could lay down, too.” Frankie’s smile was small but you felt it, and he pushed off of the counter, urging you toward the hallway. “You can go ahead of me. I have to walk slow, it -”
“No.” He spun you slowly so that your back was to his chest, and then kept his hands at your waist. “Together. I don’t want to let you out of my goddamn sight.” 
It was overkill, and you knew it - and you thought he did too. But I won’t complain. 
You both paused just inside his doorway, Frankie stepping next to you and letting out a weary sigh. “I’ve never been so happy to see my goddamn bed.” 
“Not even after South America?” Raising an eyebrow, you turned your head to look at him. “Will told me you guys were there a hell of a long time.” 
“We were.” He pulled his shirt off, tossing it toward the hamper. “And I guess you’ve got me there. We got home and I slept for two days straight. I’m pretty sure Becca thought I fuckin’ died.” He undid the button on his pants, sliding them down and then throwing them to the side, too. “But you get my point.” Frankie raised both arms above his head, stretching. “You gonna wear all those clothes to bed?”
You eyed him, letting your gaze rake over every inch of exposed skin. You’d looked at every opportunity, but that morning, it felt different. That wolf is inside of him. It’s … it shouldn’t be possible, but … Reaching out, you dragged your fingertips down the center of his chest, closing your eyes at the warmth of his skin. It’s all him, though. And I wouldn’t want to change any of it. “No. I guess I’m not.” 
His hands moved to the lower hem of your shirt, and when he tugged it upward, you raised your arms to help him. He made quick work of it, and when you went to remove your pants, you felt his hands skating down and over your sides. “You’re here. You’re still -”
“I am.” You swallowed, a shaky breath escaping a few seconds later. “He didn’t get me that -”
“No. I mean after you saw what happens… what I am, you’re still here. With me.” It broke your heart that even after he’d witnessed your response to his transformation - after he’d been able to sense the way you felt about it, he’d still doubted that you’d want to be close to him. “You’re not afraid, and you don’t think it’s disgusting, and -”
“Frankie, stop.” Using two fingers, you pressed the tips of them to his lips. “I understand you worrying, but if you really thought that that’s how I’d respond, then you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.” He sucked in a breath, staring at you. “I want you, and everything that comes with it. Still. I know what I’m getting into. It’s going to take more than that to get rid of me.” He smiled at that, and when you saw his expression soften, you moved to pull your hand away. “But.” 
“But … what?” Frankie’s eyes flicked downward and then met yours again, his shoulders set. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t want you to lie to me about how much it hurts you. You said changing was unpleasant, but c’mon, ‘Fish. Don’t lie to me about being in pain.” Gesturing to your leg, you laughed. “I’m certainly not going to lie and tell you this doesn’t hurt. I’m not going to think less of you because you admit that your bones literally rearranging themselves hurts when you turn into a giant wolf and back.” 
“Complaining about it doesn’t change shit.” He moved his thumbs over your abdomen, shaking his head. “I’ve just got to deal with it.”
“Maybe with them.” You bit your lip. “But not with me, alright?” It took a few seconds but he finally nodded before pulling you into a tight hug. You nuzzled against the side of his neck, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. It was stupid - and you knew it - but being so close to him made the previous hours and your attack seem less scary. No less serious, though. 
“We need to get into that bed.” You mumbled the words without backing off, and Frankie’s hold on you tightened. “Do you have a towel I can put under my leg? I don’t want to bleed on your bed, and I might if -”
“If Ironhead bandaged that, it’s not going to bleed.” Frankie straightened up. “He knows his shit.” That made you snort, but when Frankie took your hand and guided you to the bed, you went with him, taking it slowly. He got in first and you followed, getting situated under the blankets with your back to his chest. 
He held you close, carefully hooking a leg over your uninjured one, and as you both went quiet, you finally let yourself relax. All things considered, ending the morning wrapped in Frankie’s arms was as good an outcome as you could have hoped for. The shitstorm is coming, but for now… You scooted back even further, Frankie’s arm tightening. For now, this works. 
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