#what was that line they said? 'i can collapse on my own later'

[sashthesloth]

Finished veilguard, I finally will go on the tag as a treat because those last 4 hours put me through so much....

[lemoncrushh]

Touch

Summary: You've been having a hard time getting yourself off, so your roommate Harry offers a hand.

Warnings: masturbation, clit stimulation - 18+ ONLY!

Word Count: 3886

A/N: Finally, it's here! Based on this request. Soooo sorry for the delay! My writing mojo was not working this week. Also, I know it's a lame title, but I couldn't come up with anything else, and it's after 2AM lol. Hope you enjoy anyway :)

Slamming the freezer door shut, you collapsed at the kitchen table with a sigh.

“What’s with you?” you heard Harry ask from the living room.

“Nothing,” you muttered. “Just thought I had some popsicles left, but I guess I ate ‘em all.”

“You’ve been devouring those like crazy,” Harry commented. “Something stressing you out?”

You sighed, groaning into your palms as you rubbed your eyes. “You could say that.”

“Anything I could help you with?”

You laughed to yourself as you laid your head on the table. Oh God, if he only knew. If he only could.

“No,” you said with a muffled moan.

“Hmm, alright then,” you heard him say as he rose from the sofa and turned off the television. “I’m going to meet Seth at the track field like I promised I would. Want me to stop and get you some popsicles on the way back?”

Lifting your head, you gave a weak smile. “That would be great. Thank you.”

“No problem. See you later.” When he reached the door, he stopped and looked back at you. “Oh, and Y/N? Whatever it is…if it’s still bothering you when I get back, we can talk about it, yeah?”

“Stop, you!” you waved him off. “Go be a frat boy for the afternoon.”

Harry gave you a smirk before shutting the door behind him.

Harry Styles was sweet. Not your typical college guy. Since meeting your freshman year, you’d become close friends, and eventually roommates. While you were very much attracted to him (honestly, who wasn’t?), you’d never given him much hints that you were interested in more than his friendship. And he was such a great friend, and you’d hate to lose that by stepping out of line. So other than a couple of drunken nights on the sofa when you’d both innocently flirted, you kept your feelings to yourself.

But when you were alone…well, that was a different issue altogether.

Harry was your fantasy man, if you wanted to put it that way. He knew you were a virgin; you’d discussed it many times. But what he didn’t know was that when you were alone in your room, sometimes with him in his own room and sometimes not, you fantasized about him. And many of those fantasies led to you touching yourself and getting worked up, only to end with you sexually frustrated.

The biggest issue was that you couldn’t make yourself come. You weren’t sure what you were doing wrong. You were horny as hell all the time. And thinking about Harry when you touched yourself only heightened the desire. But you just couldn’t seem to get over the edge. You could feel yourself getting so close, time after time, until your wrist got tired and your pussy seemed to dry up. You’d groan, angry at yourself, sometimes to the point of tears. If it was late enough, you’d manage to fall asleep eventually, but if it wasn’t even close to bed time, you’d huff and stomp out of your bedroom to grab a popsicle out of the freezer, your item of choice for cooling you down.

Today had been just like any other Saturday. You’d awakened horny, thinking of Harry. You tried to take a shower, hoping it would help, only to be interrupted by the man himself, knocking on the bathroom door to tell you breakfast was ready. You’d sat at the table with him as you tried not to stare, thinking about how fucking sweet he was to make breakfast. Then when he’d announced he was going to watch some game on TV before meeting his friend Seth, you’d gone to your room, hoping to relieve the pulsing ache between your legs. You’d even gone so far as to sit naked in the closet, the door shut as you touched yourself. But once again, you were unable to climax, thus the need to go running into the kitchen.

Now that Harry was gone, however, you knew you couldn’t waste an opportunity. Grabbing a bottle of water, you brought it with you to your room in case the activity made you dehydrated. Then you lit your favorite candle and turned off the overhead light, leaving only the glow of the fairy lights that trimmed your walls. After removing your shorts, you slipped underneath the covers in just your panties and t-shirt. Closing your eyes, you sighed, imagining Harry was in bed with you. Sliding your hands down the front of your shirt, you let your fingers linger at the edge of your cotton underwear.

“Please,” you whispered into the air.

You pretended your hand was your roommate’s as you let it glide over your clothed mound. You sighed again, willing him in your mind to add a little pressure as your own hand resumed the task. Soon you could feel the moisture soaking through your panties, so you removed them completely. With your head back on the pillow, you gathered a bit of your wetness, bringing it to your clit as your fingertip began to play more aggressively.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the pressure building in your belly, your toes curling as you imagined it was Harry touching you, making you feel incredible. Your cunt tightened as your finger moved around in circles on your now swollen clit. You gasped a breath and licked your lips, praying the release would come soon. But just like all the other times, nothing would happen. It was as though your body was deliberately denying the pleasure you so needed, like a punishment. For what, you were unsure.

Dropping your tired hand next to you, you immediately felt the tears coming, unable to stop the frustration and disappointment. Rolling over onto your side, you pulled the covers up to your chest and cried.

Why was this not happening for you? This was so unfair!

Shaking with sobs, you gave up, resolving that it just wasn’t meant to be. Gulping back the rest of your tears, you drifted off to sleep.

You awakened disoriented as you heard the front door slam shut. Harry must be home, you thought. Suddenly, just the thought of him brought the tears back to your eyes. Shortly afterwards, you heard Harry calling your name. Ashamed, you rolled over to face the wall.

“Y/N!” you heard again just before a knock sounded on your bedroom door.

When you didn’t answer, he turned the knob, opening the door just a crack. “Y/N? You in here? I got those popsicles. They’re in the free-”

Harry’s words stopped abruptly, and you knew he had entered the room.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

Not wanting to let him see you crying, you cleared your throat. “Oh, hey Harry. I was…tired. So I decided to take a nap.”

“Um…but…you’re crying, love.”

“No, I’m not,” you snapped.

“Yeah, you are. I see your shoulders trembling.”

“Jeez, nothing gets past you, does it?” you hiccuped. “Do you want a medal or something?”

“Hey…” Harry sounded. Then you felt the bed shift, and you could tell he’d sat down behind you. When his hand touched your shoulder, you tensed up. “Y/N. I told you you could talk to me. About anything. Please, I’m here to help.”

“I can’t, Harry,” you grumbled. “Not about this.”

“Why not?”

“Because…it’s too embarrassing.” Sniffling, you silently hoped he would leave. But he was your friend. And up until then you’d talked to him about all of your problems, big or small.

“C’mon, it can’t be that bad,” he urged. “Was it some jerk you fancied? Want me to beat him up for you?”

“No,” you shook your head.

“Was it one of the girls in that snooty sorority?”

“No, Harry. Nobody did anything. Please, just go. Let me be.”

You heard him sigh as he rose from the bed. You thought he was leaving until he spoke again. “No, Y/N. I can’t. You’re clearly upset about something, and I can’t just leave you crying like this. Let me help. Please.”

With a huff, you finally rolled over to face him. His face displayed the look of concern and worry, and you suddenly felt bad for snapping at him.

“Why is it so important to you?” you asked with a shaky breath.

“Because, Y/N…” he conveyed, returning to the edge of your bed. “You’re important to me. You’re my best friend. I don’t like to see you hurting.”

Biting your bottom lip, you shifted your eyes. Could you tell him? Should you tell him?

“If I tell you…will you promise you won’t laugh?”

Harry tilted his head and ran his hand down your arm. “Y/N, how could I laugh at you?”

“It’s just…it’s very TMI,” you admitted.

“Yeah?” Harry raised a brow.

You gnawed at the inside of your cheek as you sat up. “I…” you began with a pause. Finally, exhaling through your nose, you looked up at the ceiling as you said the next words. “I’ve been extremely horny lately.”

You heard Harry snicker before you lowered your head and frowned.

“No,” he shook his head. “Trust me love, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just…that’s not really a secret, is it? I mean…we’re all pretty horny. I wouldn’t really call that TMI.”

“That’s not all of it,” you whispered.

“Oh. Okay. Go on then.” Harry scooted closer to you. Your insides flipped, even more than when you would sit with him on the couch or the kitchen table. You stared at him for a moment before shifting your gaze down to the comforter. You grabbed it in your hands, twisting the edge between your fingers.

“I can’t seem to make myself…you know.”

Harry’s eyes widened instantly at your confession. It surprised you because you figured you would have to spell it out for him. Part of you was embarrassed, but the other part was relieved that he understood what you meant.

“Have you ever?” he inquired.

Sucking in your lips, you shook your head.

“Shit,” he whispered, his eyes on you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“One time…it felt a little different, you know? Like I thought maybe I was but then…I wasn’t so sure. But all other times I’d get so close,” you whined, “but then…it goes away.”

“Well…” Harry mused, shifting himself on the bed, “maybe you just need some help.”

Blinking hard, you glared at him. “What do you mean? I…don’t have a vibrator. I was thinking of getting one, but I don’t know…”

“No, I mean…like a person. To touch you. The way you need to be touched.”

His final phrase hung in the air as you stared at his handsome face. His voice and tone had been low, just above a whisper, and it tickled your ears and made your skin blush. He licked his full lips as his eyes drifted down from your face to your lap. The sudden urge to squeeze your legs together was hard to ignore.

“Well…yeah,” you scoffed, making light of his words. “Not like I’ve had the opportunity.”

Harry’s eyes lifted back up to meet yours before he said, “You do now.”

Your mouth opened slightly, though you were unable to utter a sound. Was he suggesting what you thought he was suggesting?

It wasn’t until Harry took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb across your fingers and looked sincerely into your eyes again that you managed to squeak out his name.

“H-arry…you…”

“I’d like to help you, Y/N,” he said softly. “I want to. If you’ll let me.”

“Really?” You asked the word incredulously, almost with a light chuckle as surely he was joking.

“Yes. Really.”

Biting your lip, you hesitantly lowered your comforter. Harry eyed your bare legs before looking back at you.

“May I?” he asked, reaching his hand toward your thigh.

You nodded, giving him the go ahead. With a slight smirk, Harry caressed your leg, gliding his hand up and down your thigh. You sighed, your flesh erupting in goosebumps.

“Your skin is so soft,” he cooed. Then licking his lips, he leaned forward, his mouth so close to yours that you could feel his breath. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

With another nod, you felt the nerves magnify just before his lips met yours. When his hand met your cheek, however, you eased into the kiss, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth. Though you had imagined his kiss many times, it was nothing like actually experiencing the real thing. You felt the bubble of a moan rise from your throat before Harry released your lips and chuckled low.

“I was afraid that would be awkward for you, but I’m gonna assume by that sound you just made that it wasn’t.”

“No,” you breathed. “It was pretty great, actually.”

Harry’s smile grew which only made you smile back. This was already going better than you thought it would.

“So, you’re okay with moving forward?” he asked. “With me touching you, I mean.”

“Yes.” You said it so quietly, you would have wondered if you’d only thought it in your head if Harry hadn’t adjusted his position on the bed. Leaning on his elbow, he rested his head in his hand as he reached his other hand to touch your thigh again.

“We can go as slow as you need to, okay?”

“‘kay.”

“Lie back, love,” he instructed. “I want you to be as comfortable as possible. The more comfortable and relaxed you are, the better it’s gonna feel.”

You nodded, breathing through your nose as you laid back on the pillow. Relaxing, however, was going to take a little more effort. Just his gaze alone was enough to accelerate your heartbeat.

“So, tell me how you like to be touched.”

Once again, his words hung in the air like a thick cloud. Were you supposed to have an answer to that question?

“I dunno,” you shrugged.

“Well…what do you do to yourself? What feels good to you?” His eyes remained locked on yours while his hand moved up to play with the hem of your t-shirt.

“I um…” you paused, swallowing hard. “I usually just rub my clit.”

Harry nodded. “How? Show me.”

Color rising in your cheeks again, you sucked in your lips as you brought your hand down between your legs. Then you gently slid your finger down the outside of your panties along the center, finding the spot you usually went for first. Adding just a bit of pressure, you showed Harry how you touched yourself.

“Okay,” he said. “And does that feel good?”

“A little.”

“Just a little?” he raised a brow.

You hitched a breath when you saw him reach for your hand, covering it with his own. Guiding you, he pressed a little harder on your finger, moving it in gentle circular motions. You swallowed hard before letting out a tiny gasp.

“What about now?” Harry inquired.

“Better,” you breathed.

“Yeah? Is this how you usually do it?”

“For a little while,” you admitted. “When it starts to feel really good, I um…go underneath or take my panties off completely.”

“Mmm,” Harry nodded. “I’d like to do that. Can we?”

“O-okay.”

Harry’s mouth turned up in a slight grin as you lifted your hips to remove your underwear. Once they were off, you pushed them down the bed with your feet, your eyes still on Harry.

“Good,” he said. “Can I touch you now, Y/N?”

“Yes.”

Running his palm across your belly, his green eyes conveyed a sense of calmness, one you recognized well. Harry was always good at putting you at ease, whether it was at a party where you knew next to nobody but him, or just sitting on the couch talking about things that were bothering you. He was never judgemental or tried to press his opinion onto you. He made you feel good about everything, and while this was no exception, you couldn’t deny the somersaults your tummy was performing and the way your heart was thumping in your chest.

He was actually going to touch you now.

And he did. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he lightly sucked the tips of his middle and forefinger before reaching between your legs. You simply stared as his hand slid across your mound, unable to move. But before he could even touch your clit, he tapped the inside of your thigh with the back of his hand.

“Open your legs, love,” he instructed with a low chuckle. “I promise it feels so much better if I can actually reach you.”

Letting out a deep breath, you spread your legs open a little. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” said Harry. “I just want you to relax, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

“I know you won’t,” you muttered. “I’m just…it’s hard to relax right now.”

“Why?”

“Because…I guess I’m a little nervous.”

With a gentle expression on his face, Harry looked at you. “I wanna make you feel good, Y/N. Please don’t be nervous with me. It’s just me.”

You let out a half breath, half laugh as you glared at him. “That’s why I’m nervous.”

Tilting his head, Harry blinked. “Have you thought about this before…with me?”

Biting your lip, you nodded.

“Why…why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice so low you barely heard it.

“Because…I didn’t think anything would happen,” you explained. “Like this.”

Blinking again, Harry leaned over, capturing your mouth. You sighed as you felt him shift even closer, his hand gliding up the side of your shirt to cup your breast. He gave it a squeeze when you sucked delicately on his tongue. Then lifting his head, his eyelids heavy, he shook his head.

“Fuck, Y/N. I wish I’d known. I would have done this a long time ago.”

Before you could argue or retort, Harry wettened his fingers once more and brought them to your pussy. Ever so gently, just like he had moments before with your own hand, he added slight pressure to your clit, creating shapes with his movements. You gasped at the contact, immediately feeling the building sensation in your core.

“How’s that feel?” Harry whispered.

“So good,” you replied in a breathy tone, shutting your eyes.

“Open just a little wider, baby.”

You did as you were told, trying not to let the fact he’d just called you baby spin you into a sense of complete disarray. You focused on the feeling instead, the mere idea that Harry’s fingers were touching your pussy.

You could feel your legs begin to tremble, however, when his circles began to speed up. Your toes curled, and your breaths quickened.

“Oh…” you panted.

“Mmm, you like that?”

“Ohh, god yes.”

“Good girl. You’re doing great,” Harry cooed. “You’re getting so wet.”

Even with your eyes shut tight, you knew he was right. Not only could you feel the wetness dripping down your thigh, you could hear it like a sloshing mess as Harry pressed harder and moved his hand faster.

“Oh my god!” you cried.

“Do you want my fingers inside, or do you want me to keep going like this?”

“Like this!” you shouted a little too quickly.

Harry chuckled. “You got it, baby. I can do this as long as you need me to. Your pussy’s so pretty.”

You groaned at his words, the fire below igniting a whole knew sensation as you felt yourself grind against his hand. You dared a peek at him, opening your eyes to see him smirking at you. This was not his usual smirk like when he was kidding around with you, or letting you in on a secret. This was a smirk just for you, like he knew how he was making you feel, and he was enjoying it. Like he owned you. You always thought he was sexy, but fuck, when did he get so fucking sexy?!?

Harry’s hand slowed for just a moment, giving you both a bit of relief. Surely his wrist had to be aching by now, you thought. And the heavy stimulation was almost overwhelming for you. You noticed that’s when you would sometimes dry up and lose the orgasm entirely.

Shutting your eyes, you relaxed your hips, letting your legs fall open as they may, instead of tensed up like they were a moment before. You sighed again as Harry began to glide his fingertips up your slit and back down, gathering the wetness that had no doubt pooled at your entrance. You moaned at how delicately he was touching you now, with very little pressure at all.

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud, partly because it felt amazing and partly because you missed the friction. “Harry…”

“Yeah, babe. That feel good?”

“Yes, but…”

“But what, baby? You have to tell me.”

“Mmm, harder please.”

“Is that too soft?”

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Alright,” you heard him say, and you knew he was grinning. But before he resumed the pressure, he lightly patted your pussy with his hand.

You knew he was just being cocky now, but you didn’t care. You’d never felt so turned on in your life, even from your own hand. And while your end goal was to come, you also didn’t want this to end.

“H-h-harry…” you moaned, the incredible friction returning, the sensation creating an overwhelming urge in your belly. “Fuck!”

“That’s it, baby. Are you gonna come for me?”

That made you open your eyes. While his question was one you’d imagined him asking you every time you tried to get yourself off - and the sound of it coming from his lips was so fucking hot, it was a wonder you didn’t squirt right then and there - in the back of your mind you were still worried you couldn’t make it over the edge.

You reached out and grabbed his shirt in your fist, the other hand grasping at the sheet beneath you. Your eyes wide, you stared at him as you felt the pressure build and build, your legs trembling as you silently begged him to let you come.

“Oh my god!” you cried, tugging on his shirt.

And just at that moment, when you thought everything was about go black, Harry crashed his mouth into yours. Your tongue dancing with his, a low, aching moan rose from deep inside your gut. Your entire body shook as you held onto him, his fingers still caressing your wet clit as you came.

When you finally stopped shaking, but your chest was still heaving, Harry lifted both his head and his hand. Staring at you, he slid his hand up your waist, and his other cradled your neck. Then he pressed a kiss between your brows before resting his forehead against yours.

“Is that what you wanted, love?”

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Holy shit, Harry.”

With a deep chuckle, he shifted back to his side, pulling you with him. “I’m so glad I could do that for you,” he said, pushing a strand of hair from your face.

You looked at him in wonder. You’d always been in awe of him, since the first day you’d met. But now he was no longer just your friend Harry, your roommate Harry…he was…Harry! Jesus, what were you gonna do now?

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[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Errors, “Errors,” and Sci Fi

@strawberry-crocodile

tvtropes calls stuff like the wolf example "science matches on" which I think is a pretty fair shake

This.  This is what’s got me thinking so much about errors.  There’s a certain danger, here.  A certain way that this particular effect — delicious dramatic irony — tempts the mind when reading old stories, even true ones.

What do you know about R.M.S. Titanic? I ask my class every year, and the first hand rises.  “It was unsinkable,” the student inevitably says, and everyone is nodding, “or so they thought.”  I write the word UNSINKABLE on the board, underneath my crude drawing of a ship with four smokestacks.  It will be crossed out before the end of the hour, but not for the reason they expect.

“I find no evidence,” Walter Lord, preeminent biographer of the ship’s survivors, wrote, “that Titanic was ever advertised as unsinkable. This detail seems to have entered the collective mind so as to create a more perfect irony.”  Indeed, historians’ examinations of White Star Line documents show the shipbuilders themselves worried it would be so large as to risk collision; they stocked several more lifeboats than 1910s regulations required.

The War to End All Wars (deep breath, satisfied exhale), also known as World War ONE. Chuckle.  Shake of the head.  What if I told you that this phrase, used primarily in American newspapers after the fact, wasn’t meant to be literal? Nowadays we’d say The Mother of All Wars, or One Hell of a Fucking War, but we wouldn’t mean literal motherhood, literal intercourse.  What if I said the armistice and the Lost Generation and the Roaring 20s were all braced for another outbreak of European conflict, and yet we still failed to prevent it?

Did you know they were so confident in the safety of the S.S. Challenger that they put a civilian schoolteacher onboard? I do, because I’ve heard that one repeated many times.  Only, see, it’s got the cause and effect reversed.  Challenger launched on a day the shuttle’s engineers knew to be dangerously cold, because the first civilian in space was on board. And NASA knew its shuttle project would be cancelled entirely, if they couldn’t get that civilian’s much-delayed entry into space in the next two weeks.  So they launched on a cold day, and killed her instead.

These are all what cognitive science calls Hindsight Bias on the personal level, what sociology calls Presentism on the cultural level.  Social psychology’s a little of both, is primarily interested in why you’re sitting on your couch in a Colonize Mars shirt watching PBS and chuckling at the fools who believed in El Dorado.  It wants to know why the mind flees straight from “marijuana will kill you” to “marijuana will cure cancer” without so much as a pause on the middle ground of its real benefits and drawbacks, its real (mild) risks and rewards.

And they can paralyze the sci-fi writer, if you think too much about them. Jetsons is futurist one decade, retro the next.  “There are no bathrooms on the Enterprise,” the creators of Serenity say smugly, as if Gene Roddenberry should’ve simply known that decades later it’d be acceptable to show a man peeing in full view of the camera, nothing but the curve of the actor’s hand to protect his modesty.  “No sound in space,” the Fandom Menace says, “No explosions in space,” and “A space station can’t collapse in zero-G.”  Only then NASA burns a paper napkin outside of atmosphere, transmits music using only the ghost of nearby planets’ gravities, and logs onto Reddit long enough to point out the Death Star would implode in its own gravity field.  And now we’re the ones pointing, the ones laughing, at those earlier point-and-laughers.  Self-satisfied, smug in superiority.  As if we did the work to find out ourselves, instead of just happening to be born a little later than George Lucas.

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Grim - Apprentice Chef Vignette

"Let's keep on doing aaallll these fun things together"

[Kitchen]

Grim: It's… It's…

Grim: IT'S DONEEEE!!

Grim: Look, [Yuu]! My super special awesome cake's finished!

The cake looks like a tuna can…

Grim: Yeah! I made it look like the most delicious thing in the world. See how even the word "tuna" looks good?

Grim: As for what I put inside the cake… That's a surprise for when we eat it! MYAHA!

Grim: I bet this is gonna be the bestest thing on the table. We gotta hurry and get it back to Ramshackle!

[Ramshackle Dorm – Anniversary Party]

Grim: Slowly… Slowly…

Grim: Gently, gently… Careful…

We're almost back to the dorm, you got this!

Grim: Gah, carrying a cake so it doesn't collapse is so hard…!

Grim: …But all the guys we passed on the way here from the cafeteria said it totally looked tasty, yeah?

Grim: Y'know, maybe my genius ain't just in eatin' food, but makin' em, too.

Grim: Back when you and me took the Master Chef course, I thought all this work was a pain, but…

Grim: Now I'm thinkin' that it was good we did it. 'Cause now tasty things can be made into even tastier things!

Grim: Myahaha! Thanks to this cake, today's party's gonna be the cat's meow!

Grim: Ah! But that annoying guy Trein is gonna be there… He might get mad if I get too excited.

Grim: Maaan, he's always findin' things to nag me about. Like the other day, he tried scolding in me when I was runnin' in the halls.

Grim: It pissed me off, so I tried pokin' fun at him, but then he just came at me!

Grim: Obviously I ran, but that old man is faster than he looks…

Grim: And then he just caught me in no time, I wasn't expecting that. Just nabbed me by the neck.

Grim: "Try to be a bit more like Lucius," he said… But I ain't a cat, y'know!

Grim: Don't know if Trein snitched on me or what, but even Crewel got mad at me, saying "Stop causing problems."

Grim: But then Crewel whispered later, "If you're going to tease Trein-sensei, make sure you don't get caught."

Grim: Myahaha! Crewel might be a teacher, but sometimes he's got a wicked side. He gets me.

Grim: …Though, he can be a huge stickler if ya mess around in class or get bad grades.

Grim: I remember the other day was pretty scary. He had us all lined up in a row, and was grilling everyone on who spilled the chemicals on the table…

Grim: No one fessed up, and Ace and Deuce were silently keepin' their heads down, so I stayed quiet too.

Well, we all got held responsible, in the end.

Grim: Tch. Trein and Crewel are both way too strict!

Grim: I like Vargas's class the best. 'Cause I don't need to take difficult notes in his class!

Grim: Like the other day, he started going on and on, saying, "If you want to be a great mage, then you need to have muscles as rippling as mine!" or whatever…

Grim: I was just nodding along, and then class ended with just him talkin' about his own muscles. Myahaha, waaaay too easy～

Grim: …Hm? Wait a mo'.

Grim: Do you think… The reason that Vargas showed up here randomly one morning a few days ago to go exercise together…

Grim: DID HE THINK I WANTED TO TRAIN WITH HIM BECAUSE I WAS NODDING DURING ALL HIS BOASTING!?

Grim: The sun wasn't even up, it was still dark, so that was a real pain!!

Grim: …Man, I think I might like Crewel or Trein better after all, ‘cause they don't cause me problems.

[Ramshackle Dorm – Anniversary Party]

Grim: Y'know, now that I think about it, all the profs here are really strange… Is this school really alright?

Grim: Oh. But I think the strangest guy ain't one of the teachers, but Sam. I'm sure of it!

Grim: And that's cause… Remember the other day when I lost at rock-paper-scissors and I had to go buy snacks by myself?

Grim: Before I even got inside the store, I heard Sam talkin' with someone inside.

Grim: But… When I got inside, he was all alone.

Grim: When I asked who he was chattin' with, he said his "friends on the other side," but… WHAT DOES HE MEAN FRIENDS ON THE OTHER SIDE!?

Grim: He wouldn't tell me no matter how many times I asked. It's so eerie. But man, he's got a ton of cool stuff for sale, so I keep going back.

Grim: I remember then, too, before I could say what I wanted, he already had out the perfect number of snacks I had money for.

Grim: Oh yeah, and Crowley came in the shop right after me. Looks like he's always shoppin' at the Mystery Shop, too.

Grim: He started braggin' to me that he gets to order whatever he wants.

Grim: So I told him I wanted some special tuna cans then, and he says, "This privilege is for teachers only!"

Grim: He just kept on bragging, he's the worst! Crowley's so useless!

We should be thankful, since he let us attend here.

Grim: THANKFUL!? He should be thanking me for gracing this school with my genius!

Grim: And I bet Crowley'd gobble down the whole feast we got prepped if I take my eye off him for even a second…

Grim: No way I'm gonna give him a single bite. This time I'll make sure he's jealous of me.

Grim: Hey, [Yuu]. You 'n me're gonna protect this cake with our lives!

Grim: I might not be able to rely on you to do everythin' yourself, so good things we also got those ghosts.

Grim: If all us Ramshackle folk work together, we could even take on two Crowleys. We'll stun him silent!

Grim: I bet the ghosts're feelin' real alive right now. They were really getting' excited for Founding Day.

Grim: They were all, "It's so wonderful everyone is throwing a party here at Ramshackle～"

Grim: They also said that everything's getting' amped up 'cause we came to Ramshackle.

Grim: Myahaha. So that means… All the fun and happy times are all thanks to me!

1. Exactly!

Grim: Yeah. So you just keep on following me, no worries. Grim: As the boss, it's my job to take care of my henchie!

2. I think you're going a little overboard there.

Grim: Myah!? Y-You… You don't get how good I am to ya, huh!? Grim: I'm always pushin' myself hard doin' things for ya. Like, uh… Uh… ALL SORTS OF THINGS!

Grim: So let's keep on doing aaallll these fun things together!

Grim: Ah. Looks like everyone's here.

Grim: Hey, [Yuu], open the gate. We gotta bring the cake in quick!

Grim: I bet everyone'll be so surprised and happy. Myahaha. I can't wait～!

Requested by @butterflyremix.

[arcane-vagabond]

If Tarzan gets to know/see more women, would the reader be afraid to not have his attention anymore? Would she think he was only interested because she was "something new"?

I think Boots would definitely be a tad insecure. She was the first woman Bradley had ever seen, after all, and I'm sure the same thoughts would be running through her head.

She knew this was a big step for him, and this is what the team had been working up to for the past year. It had started with exposing Bradley to the local village and working him up to a nearby city. Finally, you had convinced him to fly back home to San Diego with you and Bradley.

He had handled the plane ride fine, gripping your hand tightly at both takeoff and landing, but now the real test came. You and Jake would be standing on either side of Bradley as you walked through the airport, both keeping your eyes on the larger man for any signs of distress as you reached the gate for your layover. Of course, yours weren't the only eyes on him.

You had noticed a group of girls giggling and pointing at him a couple of minutes ago, and you felt your muscles tense when one of the pretty blondes strutted up to stand in front of him.

"Hi," she grinned, pearly white teeth standing out against her beautifully tanned skin. Bradley glanced up from the tablet in front of him to look at her. You held your breath. Would he want her now? Were you really just something to pass the time with? He had options now, after all.

Bradley said nothing as he cocked his head to the side, eyes studying the woman in front of him. She was undettered, twirling a strand of hair in between her fingers as she continued to give him a sultry look.

"I'm Mia," she continued, batting her eyes at him. "What's yours?"

"Bradley."

"Hi, Bradley," she giggled, and Bradley frowned. "What are you headed to San Diego for?"

"Going home," he replied, eyes narrowing in confusion as the blonde leaned forward.

"Home, huh?" She hummed. "Maybe we could hang out sometime? I can give you my number-"

"No," Bradley cut her off, shifting away from her. Mia's smile faltered, but she quickly regained her confidence, clasping her hands in front of her so that her boobs almost spilled out of her top.

"Aw, come on," she pouted playfully, leaning forward again. "It could be so much fun."

"No," Bradley said again, frowning. "Don't want to. Want to stay with my girlfriend."

You felt your heart clench at that. The two of you hadn't really spoken about relationships or what you would classify yours ass, but his declaration had you fighting to keep from launching yourself into his arms. You'd definitely have to ask him where he learned the word later though.

"You're girlfriend?" Mia scoffed, finally looking at you. You kept your gaze pointedly on the tablet in your hands, pretending to scroll through your notes as she studied you. Mia let out a huff before turning her attention back to Bradley. "Well, if you change your mind, I'll be sitting right over there, handsome."

"I won't," Bradley said simply, and it took all of your strength to hold in your snort. Mia's lips pressed into a thin line before turning on her heel and walking away. It was only a few moments later when Jake collapsed into the seat on the opposite side of Bradley, passing you a water bottle that you took gratefully.

"What did I miss?" He asked with a grin, unscrewing the cap off his own bottle. You chuckled, leaning over to place a kiss to Bradley's cheek.

"Oh, nothing really."

[harpersdragons]

Theft in the family, Chapter 6

Much quicker update than last time, gotta love winter break

words: 2455

Jason is officially panicking.

Damian’s nowhere in sight, and clearly hasn’t been for a while.

There’s no sign of a struggle, which is extremely uncharacteristic of his brother, but in his concussed state could be explained.

Jason huffs, heart beating wildly in his chest. He rushes back to the kitchen to grab his phone, hitting Barbara’s number.

“Where is he?” Jason growls as soon as she picks up.

“What? Where is who?” Barbara sounds genuinely confused, but he’ll analyze that later.

”You said you wouldn’t tell Bruce!”

”I didn’t!”

“Then where the fuck did Damian go?” Jason snaps. He can’t bring himself to feel sorry about it. His brother is missing, and she’s supposed to have eyes on him.

Not that he specified that to her.

But, really, he thought it was assumed.

“Damian’s missing?”

“Keep up.” Jason sighs, tugging on his hair slightly, “Fuck, Barbie, I thought you were gonna keep an eye on him!”

“I never said I would! Honestly, there’s only so many things I can do at once! You bats always expect me to be everywhere, all the time!”

Jason growls, “I am not a bat.” He hangs up the phone without a second thought, barely restraining himself from tossing it across the room.

If the bats don’t have Damian, then the kid either left of his own volition (extremely unlikely), or the league took him.

Fuck.

Jason shoulda kept a closer eye on him, he knew taking Damian from the league was declaring war, Ra’s wouldn’t let him go without a fight.

Breathing deeply, he drops onto the couch.

There’s another person he could call.

But fuckin’ hell, it’s gonna be an unpleasant phone call.

He presses the contact, listening to it ring.

Another bolt of anxiety shoots through as it connects, and a voice rings out: “Hello?”

“Heyyy, Talia, listen—”

“What did you do now?” Talia’s voice radiates disappointment.

“What, I can’t just call you for fun?”

“When it’s nearly one in the morning in Gotham? No.”

“It’s not my fault this time!”

“What happened.”

“Damian may, or may not, have gone missing.”

Talia’s silence is deafening.

“What.” Her voice has gone deadly soft.

“I ran out for an hour or two, and was coming right back, and he was just gone! I swear, Talia, we were in a safe location. I don’t know how they found us. I covered our tracks and everything!” He knows he’s rambling, but couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Damian’s been missing for probably an hour, maybe longer, and that’s more than enough time for a League assassin to get him on a plane back to Nanda Parbat.

“Who, exactly, is they?”

“The league. I think. I don’t know for sure. I came back, and he was just gone.”

Talia hums across the line. “I’ll look into it.”

The dial tone rings out before Jason can speak again.

Jason collapses back against the couch. There’s no trail. Jason can’t even figure out when Damian was taken, let alone how. Even injured that kid is a force to be reckoned with.

Blowing a calming breath out, Jason heaves himself up. He has to do something. He can’t just sit around uselessly while Damian, while his brother, is out there with some assassin.

Jason pulls his gear on methodically, the motions somewhat soothing, focusing him and getting him out of his head.

This is fuckin’ war.

Just as he finishes strapping his weapons on and slinging his cloak over his shoulders, his phone rings again.

”I’ve got a location. The assassin, and it was definitely one of the League’s, wasn’t even smart about it. Talia helped out some, though I don’t know how you convinced her to do so.” Babs starts talking as soon as he picks up. He can hear her clicking the keys in the background, and then a location pops up on his phone.

”Thanks.” Jason growls and hangs up. He’s gonna get an earful about that later, but oh well. He’s got a kid to find.

Jason exits, using the trees to get to the city faster, and once he’s there he launches into the sky.

The location leads him to an old abandoned apartment building in Crime Alley. There’s no way to tell which apartment they’re in, Barbara’s tip only says they were seen entering the building. The assassin would know better than to turn lights on or make it obvious which apartment they’re in.

Jason perches on a roof on a nearby building, observing. The best tactic is probably to go in from the roof, and work his way down. This would be easier if he had a team, or at least a partner, so one of them can work down and the other can work up and they meet in the middle.

As it is, Jason’s alone.

He works steadily through the building, doing his best to keep the element of surprise, picking locks instead of smashing doors in. If the doors aren’t unlocked, the quality of the locks is abysmal.

It doesn’t take long before he finds the right apartment, able to hear a quiet voice inside it.

Jason unholsters one of his guns, and kicks the door in. The effect is instantaneous, the assassin whirls and draws his blade in one smooth motion.

Damian is unconscious and tied to a chair in the corner, but he looks unharmed.

Jason fires, the assassin dodges, flipping closer and knocking Jason’s gun wide.

The two grapple, but Jason eventually gets the upper hand, slamming the smaller man into the wall.

“You can not hide the Heir forever,” The assassin’s voice takes a sinister note, “The Demon’s Head always prevails.”

“Hm.” Jason cocks his head, staring the assassin down, “Possibly, but today’s not that day.” Without another word, he slips a dagger out of its sheath and lodges it in the man’s chest. He yanks the blade out just as quickly, stepping back and letting the assassin fall to the ground. He waits to ensure the man dies, before absently wiping the blood off on his pants and rushing to Damian.

He cuts his brother loose, then catches him as he sags forward. Hefting Damian into his arms, he quickly texts Babs and Talia that he’s got him, and heads back up to the roof.

Grappling will be more difficult since Damian is still unconscious, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. Thankfully he has some rope in a pocket (you thank Batman’s need to be prepared for any situation at a given time), and he can secure Damian to his chest and leave his hands free.

The trip back towards the safe house settles his mind more, and he allows himself to cherish the feeling of his baby brother strapped to his chest.

Damian’s unconscious, but he’s alive and—mostly, he still has a concussion—uninjured.

Once he’s a decent way away from the apartment building, he stops on a rooftop. He needs to actually check Damian over more thoroughly and make sure there’s no new injuries. He unwinds the impromptu harness he created, setting Damian on the ground near an AC vent.

“Dames, can you hear me?”

No response, he doesn’t even shift.

It was expected, but that doesn’t mean Jason likes it.

He can’t find any new injuries, so he starts preparing to finish the journey to the safehouse. He still needs to get groceries soon, but they can make do for a bit longer. Damian needs the rest. Hell, Jason needs the rest.

Distantly he hears the distinctive swish of a cape—well, distinctive if you were trained by the Bat and are accustomed to hearing it. Seconds later, there’s the soft thud of boots hitting the roof, accompanied by Bruce’s low growl, “Step away from the kid.”

Jason does no such thing. He does, however, turn around slowly. Dick and Tim land on either side of Bruce. “Wow…the kid? Not your kid? I’m impressed, Batsy, you’ve hit a new level of repression. I woulda thought if you saw a crime lord crouching over your missing son you’d be a bit more upset.”

Bruce doesn’t respond.

Jason’s hands itch to reach for his weapons, but he can’t make the first move. He doesn’t stand a chance against all three of them.

One? Absolutely.

Two could possibly be doable.

But there’s no chance in hell he can fend off all three.

“Y'know what? I think I’ll keep him. After all, you clearly can’t be trusted to watch after him.” Jason smirks under his mask. He watches Bruce make a discreet motion with his hand, and readies himself for an attack. It was one he didn’t recognize, obviously something they came up with after he died.

He’s not waiting long before both Nightwing and Robin launch themselves at him. Bruce stays back, for now.

That’s a great thing, because Jason’s gonna have enough of a time fending off these two.

Tim’s not a problem, the kid’s a decent fighter, but he’s no match for Jason.

Dick on the other hand…

The flippy bastard is hard to actually hit.

No matter how much Jason wants to deck him.

He whirls, ducking under Nightwing’s aerial attack, throwing a hit upwards—and missing. How the fuck did Nightwing dodge mid air?

Tim’s attack was the opposite of Dick’s, he came at Jason from the ground, whipping his bo staff at Jason’s face. Jason barely manages to duck, risking a glance behind him to make sure Damian’s out of range of the fight. He can’t lead them away, because that leaves Damian open for one of them to grab, but he doesn’t want Damian caught in the line of fire—metaphorical fire, he’s not pulling his guns out when his baby brother is so close.

Jason dodges an attempt to grab him from Dick, landing a hit on Tim as he does.

The fight continues, Jason getting hits in occasionally, but mainly trying to dodge getting his ass kicked.

Tim’s bo staff is fuckin’ annoying, man.

He keeps an eye on Bruce’s position, but the old man seems content to watch for now. Jason backs up a step, dodging another swipe of a bo staff and subsequent escrima attack (The bastards fighting styles coordinate. Jason is gonna throw someone off a roof. Possibly himself). His foot nudges the kid behind him, and he feels Damian flinch violently, a small whine leaving his mouth.

Shit

He’s awake.

The noise makes Dick falter just enough for Jason to land a knockout punch, drawing his sword immediately after and blocking Tim’s incoming swing. The screech of metal makes Damian flinch again, barely suppressing a cry. Jason can vaguely hear him shifting further away, a slight movement of gravel.

With Dick out of the way, it’s much easier to incapacitate his replacement. Tim goes down quickly, and he sees Bruce shift forward. Jason levels his sword in his direction, “Not another step, Old Man.”

“Put the sword down.”

“I think not.” He crouches down, turning towards Damian but still keeping an eye on Bruce. Damian seems frozen where he is, curled in as tight of a ball as he can get. “S’alright, Habibi, you’re ok.”

Damian doesn’t seem to hear him, so Jason waits. Damian doesn’t particularly like to be touched when he’s distressed, so the best course is to wait until he’s responsive and can seek Jason out himself.

It doesn’t take too long, and Damian uncurls himself slowly. His face is wet with tears, eyes red and chest heaving.

“There we go. We’re all good here, Princeling.” Jason opens one arm, offering a hug. The kid launches at him, and Jason holds him tight. “I’m glad you’re ok.”

Damian buries his face in Jason’s shoulder, “Can we leave, Akhi?”

“Soon, Habibi, just gotta deal with bat infestation.” Jason levels a glare at Bruce.

“You’re not leaving with him.”

“Listen, I have had maybe 3 hours of sleep in the past 2 days—”

“Maybe you shouldn’t kidnap children.”

“I’m not done. I’m tired, and you can go fuck yourself, alrigh’? Damian’s my brother, I’m not gonna hurt him. Give me ‘till Sunday morning and I’ll have him back to you completely unharmed.”

“Hn.”

“What more do you want, Old Man? This is as close to begging as I’m gonna get. I’ll fight you if you really want to, but I’d really rather not.”

Damian turns his head, making eye contact with his father, “Can I go with him, Baba? I will be safe.”

Jason can see Bruce bluescreen at the endearment, and honestly he gets it.

“What the fuck, kid?”

Bruce still hasn’t rebooted. Jason should probably leave now before he does.

“...Jason?” Bruce speaks quietly.

Jason.exe has crashed, please hold while maintenance is performed.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” It definitely takes him a solid minute to reboot his own brain. “Your kid basically just called you dad, and that’s what you’re getting from this?”

“You didn’t deny it…how—how are you alive?”

Hell, he’s not equipped for this bullshit. He can practically hear Bruce’s impending breakdown.

Fuck this shit.

He can see Dick and Tim and starting to shift, and he does not want an act 2 of this bullshit.

Please exit stage left

“Ask your ex. Peace out!” Jason sheaths his sword, grabbing his grapple gun and making sure his hold on Damian is secure, then launches himself off the building.

“Wait—!” He can hear Bruce’s yell from behind him, but he just propels himself faster.

Why the absolute fuck did he grapple all the way from Bristol?

It takes them a while before they get back to the safehouse, and he hopes they didn’t fuckin’ follow him, he doesn’t have it in him to move safehouses again.

When they do finally arrive, Damian is starting to fall asleep again. Jason convinces him to go take a quick shower. They don’t have clothes for either of them, so that’ll have to be on the shopping list for tomorrow.

When they finally settle into bed, Jason leans against the headboard. He doesn’t think he can sleep knowing an assassin broke in here about 4 hours ago. He has to be awake to guard Damian.

He gets up and grabs Pride and Prejudice, may as well reread it, he’s got no other entertainment.

He leans back, running his finger over the old annotations, and settles in for a long night.

He drifts off at some point, slumping further against the headboard, book falling open in his lap, Damian’s head resting against his stomach.

[too-antigonish]

My Strange but Unified Theory of Exeunt

Last week I talked about the poem Horatio in a post about Morse and fathers and @astridcontramundum asked what I thought it meant in the context of Exeunt. Hopefully she won't be sorry she asked because here's my (as usual) long answer:

Horatio is quoted from twice in Exeunt. The first time, Prof. Fortescue is lecturing to his students at a tutorial and gives us the most famous lines:  

Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the Gate:  "To every man upon this earth death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds For the ashes of his fathers And the temples of his gods?"

The second time occurs just before Thursday’s has his “turn” in the same spot where Morse will many years later experience his own collapse. He says: ”’How well Horatius kept the bridge in the brave days of old.’ We'd a padre big on that out in the desert. Drumhead service just before Alamein. ‘And how can man die better than facing fearful odds?’ Always stuck with me.”

I think they used those lines to plainly tease the idea that Thursday was going to die. Prior to Exeunt airing, almost everyone thought Thursday would have to die in order to explain Morse’s never mentioning him again in the future. When Fortescue says those lines in the beginning, I think we’re supposed to think that someone—probably Thursday—is going to die heroically. Then Thursday repeats some of the poem—connecting it to his WWII service—just before he has his “spell” and it seems like more foreshadowing. 

The thing about the poem though, that most people *don’t* know, is that the big surprise at the end is that Horatio *doesn’t* die. It just looks like he will: Even when his companions have abandoned the bridge because it is on the verge of collapse, Horatius remains. He stays until bridge finally does fail, and then plunges into the river below with the full weight of his armor. It is certain death and both sides stand stunned into silence by his final sacrifice.

But then, both sides find themselves even more surprised when they see the crest of his helmet beginning to rise from the water and he slowly emerges, striding towards the Roman bank. He not only survives, but arrives home to a hero’s welcome and a long life.

All of the usual narrative pieces are in place for us to expect Thursday to make the ultimate sacrifice—to die. For me, Thursday—like Horatio—does sacrifice everything, but the poem was actually foreshadowing his survival, not his death. And for Thursday, his survival is in many ways a far more difficult sacrifice than death would have been. It would have been easier for him in so many ways if he had died in defense of Sam or even fighting Lott. Instead he has to live with the ambiguous and messy aftermath.

Morse could also be Horatio in the sense that he goes to Blenheim Vale facing a high probability of death. What were the chances that the bikers would “come through” for him? That Morse went expecting to be double-crossed and killed by Lott seems much more likely to me. But I do think that Morse, like Horatio, would reason that, “If you’re going to go, then there’s no better way than defending the things that are most important to you,” and so he goes anyway.

He survives too—but unlike Horatio, his heroism will always remain a secret *and* with his realization about Thursday’s guilt and Lott’s revelation about Tomahawk’s identity, it brings perhaps more sorrow than it does victory. And, I would argue that his survival is only temporary or perhaps partial.

The gunshot scene has many possible interpretations, but at its core, my (forever unprovable) theory is that it balances out the survival foreshadowed by Horatio. Horatio was all about the audience assuming that Thursday had to die. But along with that went the assumption that of course Endeavour had to live. This is a prequel after all.

But the gunshot scene said a big, loud, “No. We can kill off Endeavour if we want to and we will.” You can go back and forth until the cows come home about whether or not the scene was simply him contemplating death, actually going through with it, or absolutely, purely symbolic and imaginative. However, I don’t think you can honestly argue that the scene doesn’t somehow connect the concepts of  “Endeavour Morse,” “gun,” and “death” to each other. Somehow those concepts have to be included in any interpretation.

So this leads to my weird theory about Exeunt, which is that Russ Lewis heard everyone saying, “Well I don’t know what’s going to happen in the end, but of course we all know that Morse is going to live—so no suspense there. And Thursday, well, he has to die. I mean it’s the only way to explain why we never hear about him later.” And to this, Russ Lewis thought, “Ha! I’m going to do exactly the opposite. Thursday lives and Morse dies!” 

Am I right? I will never know. Do I have more thoughts on Exeunt? You really, really don't want to know just how many.

[autistichalsin]

I wonder if you have thoughts on like.... the other members of his grove? and halsin relating to them? bc apart from rath and maybe two more, they all seem very dicky to me 🤔 and ya, halsin said it's been a burden, and being a kind-hearted dude like him leading a bunch of bastards that think so highly of themselves could definitely contribute to the stress. I guess i don't get it? the one at the steps by the bear is like 'hold on give them a chance' @ the bear when we come in but then in the same breath is like 'no step further or i show you my claws' and seems like has to be talked down from being hostile by third druid; then later when we stop the ritual she's like 'we stopped the chanting but that doesn't give you the right to be disrespectful to this place' and some rando other druid went something along the lines of 'you're overstaying your welcome' - im just thinking how horrible halsin's life must have been surrounded by pricks like that 😔

Short version: yeah, everyone but Rath, Nettie, and Apikusis suck lol

Long version: everyone but Rath, Nettie, and Apikusis suck, BUT you can see several who are having doubts about what they're doing, and many of them come back to themselves once Halsin returns.

There were, I think, multiple things going on here:

By his own admission, Halsin wasn't a very strong leader. He never had leadership skills taught or modeled for him before becoming Archdruid, and further, his promotion was under incredibly traumatic circumstances. The survivor guilt, the admiration he had towards the previous Archdruid, likely left him not wanting to fully engage with the role out of fear of replacing him or at least seeming to do so.

The refugee situation was noted to be causing stress at the Grove as supplies were dwindling (I guess we're supposed to forget Goodberry is a spell ANY Druid can do, lol). This would have not only sown resentment against Halsin and the refugees for putting them in this situation, but crucially, it would have given an outsider enemy for the Grove. Cults (like the Shadow Druids) operate at their strongest when they have a threat, or appearance of one, to unite members and potential members under. "We are the only ones who can keep you safe from these outsiders who may be from hell itself, who are using all your supplies and contributing nothing, who are the reason you're being attacked by goblins every other day." And Halsin, as much as I love him, showed poor judgment in going with the goblins at that precise moment, and with little explanation to the others. It shows where his heart and priorities are- always with the Shadow-Cursed Lands first- but that would not be an endearing things for his stressed Druids.

Kagha not only fell in with this cult, but unfortunately, she had a lot of what Halsin was lacking as a leader- she just chose to use this skills for evil. She was persuasive (something Halsin admits he wasn't so good at), she presented herself as being concerned with the group's welfare in a way Halsin wasn't quite able to do (since his heart was elsewhere), and her zealotry seemed preferable to the other Druids in contrast to Halsin's mixed attention.

This cannot be understated: the Grove was deliberately targeted by Ketheric Thorm. He knew from experience that the Grove posed a significant threat, and he ordered his underlings to make contact with the Shadow Druids and send them to the Emerald Grove, to either persuade them to carry out the Rite of Thorns or at least cause so much division that the social bonds collapsed entirely and the Grove was left too divided to be able to accomplish anything. Ketheric and the Shadow Druids were able to find all of the above weaknesses and exploit them effortlessly.

So then it became a game of scapegoating, which is a favored recruitment technique of cults. "We're here because of the Other, and because our leader was too weak to fix the problem before it got this bad. We need a new leader; a leader who cares only for us and isn't afraid to tell the truth about these immigrants refugees who want to destroy America our Grove by leading gangsters and drug lords goblins right to us! Build the Wall Perform the Rite of Thorns!"

No one is immune to propaganda and everyone is a potential target for cults. It very well could be that all of the Druids, even Kagha, were once genuinely kind people who were manipulated by the cult into believing their kindnesses would get the Grove destroyed; they took on the "it's us or them" mentality.

For the timeframe to work, it either would have had to be happening in secret before Halsin left, or Halsin would have had to be gone for a while; since we know it wasn't TOO terribly long but hadn't JUST happened either, my guess is that Kagha had been spreading Shadow Druid doctrine in secret for some time, and had been planning to usurp Halsin's position even if he hadn't been kidnapped. That just made it easier once it happened. (There is a formal process within the Druids to challenge an Archdruid for their position; I don't know if Halsin even would have fought Kagha that hard if she kept her true intentions a secret. He had faith in her at this point after all, and didn't want the leadership position. That's a terrifying thought.)

So, then, Halsin comes back, and sees evil ideas spreading in all his Druids, starting with Kagha. Depending on the player's actions, he may or may not know it goes deeper than her. He can also see that his reputation has been severely damaged, if not ruined, in his absence; almost none of the Druids have any respect for him anymore. So he makes the wise decision to bring in Francesca, who they have no choice but to respect, and backs away himself. At this point, he intends to return someday when the Druids have been deprogrammed, but of course, later he decides it's not worth it anyway.

So back to: how bad must his life have been surrounded by that? Well, as mentioned, my headcanon is he wasn't surrounded by it very long, if at all. He thought everything was just normal, until he got back from being kidnapped and quickly found it very much wasn't. Whether that's better or worse, though, is up to interpretation. What's worse- seeing those you love fall victim to a cult, or thinking everything is completely fine, and then one day discovering they've been sucked in deep and there's nothing you can do to persuade them anymore since they've come to see you as The Enemy?

In any case, Halsin deserved much better, and I like to think he keeps in touch with Nettie, Rath, and Apikusis after the epilogue, even if he keeps his distance from the Grove itself.

[moonydustx]

The phoenix and the dove.

Pairing: Marco The Phoenix x F!Reader Warnings: angst, angst and more angst. Mention of pregnancy and pregnancy loss, mention of blood and gunshots. Reader and Marco have a long-standing relationship. Not necessarily canonical, since I refuse to accept the "disappearance" of some characters mentioned. A/N: I know, I mentioned today that we should have more Marco stories, but the idea that was already floating around in my head was one of pure sadness.

requests open | one piece masterlist

Italics are for flashbacks (which are a lot in this story)

It was just supposed to be a visit to the nearby island to collect supplies. It was only a few hours and you two were back.

The silence between you and Ace occupied the Striker in silence. When he met you in front of the bar, you had made it very clear that you didn't want any questions about it. The blood fell from your arms and your face, spreading throughout your body. The only thing Ace insisted on asking was if any part of the blood was yours, which you insisted on denying.

As soon as your feet met Moby Dick, the curious eyes automatically turned to you. You just wanted to go to your room, get rid of all that blood and drive away the bad thoughts that were echoing in your mind.

"What is this about?" you came face to face with Captain Whitebeard. The loud and angry tone of his voice made it clear that you wouldn't escape so easily.

"I fell into a trap, that's all." you replied, even though the old man knew it was a lie.

"Are you hurt?" he asked and you denied. "How was that trap?"

"Pops, can I talk about this later?" you asked. "Please Pops, I just need to be alone for a bit." your voice broke at the end.

You knew that despite many fearing your captain, he had a soft spot for you, at least after everything that happened inside the ship a while ago.

"I'll be waiting for your report." he just responded and you knew that was your cue.

Your room seemed even quieter, as did the bath that washed all the red liquid from your body. You felt restless and trapped in your own mind, which was your biggest enemy that day. You put on your clothes and when you returned to your room, you found the ship's doctor - also known as your boyfriend of a few years - waiting for you. The crossed arms and serious expression showed that he had already been informed of your condition upon arrival.

"I said I wanted to be alone." the frustration in your voice echoed throughout the room, even if only a whisper had left your lips.

"I'm here on Pops' orders yoi" Marco grumbled, sitting on the bed in front of you and looking at you while drying your hair. "Are you hurt?"

"No."

"My dovey…" the regretful tone in his voice seemed to make your conscience even worse and you didn't want to get closer to him, you knew that the few meters of distance between you two was just the thin line for you to collapse. "I can see some cuts from here."

"It's okay, Marco." despite knowing it would be a lot for you, something about the way he looked at you made you finally feel safe. "It was just a difficult situation."

"Was that because they were calling you fragile?" He stood up, closing the space between you. The morning before you and Ace left, some had made some snarky comments about the lecture Marco gave Ace about your safety being his responsibility while they were gone. "I'm terrible at pretending, I'm here as a doctor and a boyfriend." He emphasized, holding your face between his hands. "Ace told part of what happened, said you started the fight."

"Babe, please." You let your face fall, leaning into his chest and sighing deeply. Your eyes burned just thinking about bringing words to the world.

"If you don't want to talk to me, that's okay." he kissed the top of your hair, smoothing the covered skin of your back. "But, I know you and I know that keeping anything to yourself will hurt you." when your face submerged in the hug, Marco felt his heart fragment when he saw that in addition to the scratches on your face, there were thick tears running down your cheeks. "Take your time, dovey."

"I was in a store and Ace was in a restaurant, waiting for me." You moved away from him, your feet walked almost in circles to try to dispel the nervousness that was building up. Marco already knew his modus operandi, you just needed to air out whatever had pushed you to that limit. "I wanted to buy some nonsense, you know? So I waited for someone to help me, but I heard a strange noise coming from the back of the store, a scream."

Marco leaned against the door, his arms crossed and his serious expression showing that he suspected someone had provoked you. He knew his girl and even though her role wasn't that, she would know how to defend herself - and that technically explained the amount of blood she had gotten.

"I-I thought it might be someone from the store, some robbery." As the words left your lips, they became even more blurred by tears. "I went in and saw a girl crying and a little girl being handcuffed, along with two other children."

"This is horrible." Marco whispered, trying to get closer to you again. He knew how sensitive the topic was for you, and if he was being honest, it was extremely sensitive for him too. "Did you manage to save them?"

"How to save? She was selling the girl Marco, selling a child." the choked voice was replaced by hatred and venom in your words. "When I got close I saw the bag of berris in her hand."

Marco watched you stop for a few seconds, breathe and try to ignore the tears that still insisted on falling rapidly.

"Whose blood was it?"

"Of the damned people who were going to buy the children." you answered as if it was obvious. No matter how hard you tried, you refused to kill that woman. "They saw me a-and I-I…"

"Love?" he tried to hold you, but your hands covered your face, trying to suppress your sobs. His arms then went down to your shoulders, trying to offer some kind of comfort that he knew was impossible. "It's okay now, you sorted it out."

"H-How? How she had c-courage. That little girl was the same age as our Kairy would be." If there was still any piece of Marco's heart left to fragment, it would be over at that moment. "I know, I was fragile enough to lose our little girl. But how did that woman have the courage to give hers away, like it was just trash?"

No matter how much Marco thought, it was impossible to find words. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the night almost two years ago.

It was another peaceful night at Moby Dick, the newly discovered pregnancy had put you away from your duties, at least in those first four months in which nausea and weakness were your best friends. Although they didn't know yet, half of the crew - including Yonkou - had bet on the baby's sex and the majority were betting on the girl, who would be called Kairy.

The noises of cannons and the commotion on the ship woke you from your reading and it didn't take long for strange men to appear in your field of vision. You dodged the first attack, but the second hit you square in the face, knocking you down. Before the third one came, Izou got in front of you, knocking the man down.

"Go hide, now!" he shouted in your direction and at other times you would disagree, but you knew that there you would only be concern.

Only a few steps separated you from the inside of the ship, where it would be much easier to hide, when the noise reached you before the pain. When your body found the ground again, you could feel the pain radiate through your torso and down your leg. Vivid red blood stained your dress and the strength seemed to have drained from your body. You had no idea how long you lay there, seconds, minutes or hours. It was only when a freckled and seemingly desperate face appeared in your field of vision that your consciousness seemed to return.

"Shit, shit. I need help" he shouted and soon Vista appeared. "Take her to the infirmary now. You, cover them." he began to give orders almost blindly. "I'm going after Marco."

"Ace…" your voice almost trailed off as you called him, making the fire fist even more desperate.

"Save your strength. I need you and my nephew to be okay." he asked, seeing you wince in pain. "Go, now!"

Marco took a few seconds to process what Ace was trying to say. When the information made sense to him, the blue flames disappeared from his body as he crossed the ship, knocking down anyone in front of him.

"What happened?" he asked, crossing the infirmary door, seeing two crew partners on top of your body.

"One shot in the left thigh, another in the torso, right side of her belly." Vista listed as Marco helped contain the blood. "Marco, I think she lost a lot of blood, I don't know if…"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Marco murmured, letting his flames try to help you heal. "Everyone out, you two make sure no one comes in here. Ace, you need to go too, your strength will be useful there."

The three left without complaining, leaving your body unconscious and Marco on the verge of collapse. His flames never stopped engulfing you, as he connected you to a heart monitor and pressed another to your belly. While he applied serum with some stabilizers, while he prayed to any god that could help you at that moment. He was reluctant to look at the two monitors, while the one for your heart showed activity, the one for your little baby just had a continuous flat line. And it remained like that until the sun invaded the ward and the door creaked.

"Son?" Whitebeard's voice echoed and if he turned back, Marco could see his companions outside, waiting for some news. "I'm sorry, but I don't think it's healthy for you or her for you to wear yourself out like this. She's going to need you to get through this."

"No Pops." Marco grunted, feeling his eyes burning. "I can't let that happen."

"Unfortunately, it has already happened." the captain's hand found Marco's shoulder. The blue flames were already much weaker than when he started. "She'll understand."

The serene expression on your face as you slept, not knowing that the little child you were waiting for was no longer between you was enough to destroy the little strength that Marco still had. The cry of the phoenix echoed throughout Moby Dick.

Just the vague memory of that night brought tears to Marco's eyes and thinking that you had relived that hurt him, once again he wasn't there to defend you.

"Sweetheart…" he hugged you tightly, suppressing your sobs. "Never say that again. It wasn't your fault."

"But, Marco."

"It was not your fault yoi" he pointed out, holding your face between his hands. "I'm sorry you saw these children suffer, I'm sorry you had to save them."

"I just wish it would stop hurting someday." you murmured, allowing yourself to be trapped in his arms. "This bloodbath didn't make me feel any better. I just needed to get that feeling out of me."

"Unfortunately, we have to live with this, okay? One day at a time yoi."

"One day at a time." you replied and allowed yourself to be guided to the bed.

Marco placed you lying on his body, the blue flames shone on his skin and removed any trace of physical pain that your body still had. It only took a few minutes and a few sobs of excessive crying for you to fall asleep. Marco knew that you both still had a long life ahead of you, that one day there would probably be little versions of you running around the ship and bringing joy to old Whitebeard, who had been excited about the idea of ​​being a grandfather. They were distant plans, but Marco still had the luxury of dreaming about them.

When your eyes opened again, it was already dawn and Marco's side of the bed was empty. Despite Marco's little help the night before, your body still hurt and you could feel your face swollen. After properly waking up, you found him sitting with other commanders, talking and eating.

"Our fragile and sweet little dove has arrived." Thatch said in a teasing tone, as you bent down to give Marco a small kiss on the cheek.

"No more than your ego or your forelock." you retorted, earning laughter from the entire table, include Thatch.

"Everything okay, dovey?"

"Like you said…" you let your head rest on his shoulder. "One day at a time."

[leclsrc]

Just saw the last Carlos fic and I LIVED for it… but can never get enough of my manz… Carlos x driver!reader (friends to lovers) where it’s hard to be a female f1 driver because everyone is waiting to brand you as overly emotional and dramatic. What if the reader has a bad crash and she claims to everyone including her driver friends that she is completely fine, only to collapse later because of an injury she hid from everyone

silver lining – cs55

genre: drabble, angst?, fluff, yearning

auds here... whatta painful req anon! am trying to get reqs done so i start anew for 2023 but i write painfully slow. anyway i hope you enjoy this. title from silver lining by the nbhd :)

Silverstone is cold and windy when you snag P2 beside Carlos. 

Immediately, you’re ushered into the media pen to answer questions, after the usual physical check-up and initial celebrations. Something tugs at your leg, a dull pain that seems to grow, but you clear your throat and put on a smile for the interviewer. With drivers, the questions are an endless cliche: what was your strategy, did it go down well with Max, your teammate, were there prior discussions of how to handle this and that and conserve that and this.

But with you, the cliche reaches a whole new level. Apart from the usual, it’s: how do you keep your hair so shiny even when racing, any favorite workouts, what’s the female F1 driver diet. It’s tiring, draining to constantly overhear your male coworkers answer more objective, driver-oriented questions. 

It never helps to speak up against it. You’ve got most of the Internet on your side, but there’s the occasional semi-viral tweet that brands you as emotional and dramatic, sometimes backed up by so-called F1 experts. You’ve been the topic of multiple TikToks, podcast episodes, and think pieces that all bring you down.

“Did you feel nervous at all going into Q3, considering there’d been a minor complication with the car?” You feel for the interviewers, though, knowing they have to repeat all these for hours. You swallow your nerves and spout an answer of your own. The pain grows sharp.

The man pauses and reviews his notepad, then. “Did you maybe wish you could’ve gotten P1 today instead of Sainz? Prove the whole ‘girl boss’ notion?”

“My desire to win has nothing to do with ‘girl boss’-ing,” you clarify. “I’m very happy for Carlos, but at the end of the day this is my career, so obviously I’d say yes to wanting to get first place. It’s not an odd answer.”

Your gut churns with dread, knowing this will be spun into a nasty headline later. But you flex your leg, and it sends you into a silent fit of pain—something’s wrong, a muscle pulled or trapped. The interviewer thanks you after a few more questions, and you swallow the rest of your water in hopes of being distracted, albeit momentarily.

Seb bumps into you, notices the grimace on your flushed face. “Everything alright?”

“Tired,” you say, wanting nothing more than to be done with it and sleep the leg pain off. It increases with every step you take, but if you start showing signs of it here, the headlines will only worsen.

You pass the rest of the pen and wobble back to your motorhome. Much to your surprise, Carlos waits there, a towel slung over his shoulder. Like Seb, he notices the dull, dry pain written on your eyes.

Unlike Seb, he doesn’t leave the issue alone. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say. You and Carlos have always been close, harboring the same age gap as he and Charles but a more levelheaded relationship. “Are we celebrating tonight?”

“You definitely aren’t with the way you’re walking,” he says pointedly. “En serio?”

“I said nothing,” you say, sharpening your voice. “Leave it.”

He follows you slowly, until you’re both isolated by the door of your room. It’s quiet when you let him in, your irritance and standoffish behavior still evident.

He tries again, because if he’s learned anything from years of knowing and loving you, it’s that you’re a truly stubborn son of a bitch. “Tell me,” he says, solemn. His loud mood always tones down with you, not because you bore him, but because he feels more comfortable with himself.

Inversely, you’re always louder around him, more bubbly, unlike your typically stoic self. It’s the kind of connection neither of you can label, or explain. It’s the both of you, always. “I think my leg’s injured,” you say, letting the confession leave you in one breathless sentence. “It really, really hurts, Carlos.”

You lean against the wall and exhale. “I’ll get it checked,” you tack onto it, so he doesn’t worry even more. He worries a lot. Especially with you.

“Why didn’t you say anything at first,” he says, voice aghast with concern. He mumbles something in Spanish. When he’s caught in fits of emotion, you notice, his English is always the first to go.

“It wouldn’t have been taken seriously,” you reason, wincing. “I never am.”

“Fuck that,” he says. “You need to say these things.”

“Carlos,” you say. 

He takes his hand in yours. “You make me worry. I worry.”

You nod along, gripping his hand with whatever energy you have left. You know as early as now that you’ll be okay, that this annoying leg will be taped up and rested tonight, because that’s Carlos—always caring, always there. You have so much of him in your heart.

There’s a glimmer of something there, just in the undergrowth. You can’t wait to find out what it is.

[keirasanimeblog]

Imagine how each person reacts to you getting hurt in a fight.

You're normally a fighter and can hold your own. This injury takes you and your companions by surprise.

Sanzo

Sanzo didn’t rush to your side when you collapsed after the fight. Instead, he stood there with his revolver still smoking. His amethyst eyes scanned the battlefield with a sharp glare. His lips were pressed into a grim line, and it was hard to tell if he was angry at you, himself, or the situation.

Once the dust settled, Sanzo walked over to where you lay. “Idiot,” he muttered as he crouched down beside you. You were surprised that his voice sounded rougher and quieter than usual. There was no bite to it. “What were you thinking, taking on that many by yourself?”

His hands hovered over your wounds, his touch light and surprisingly careful despite the harshness of his tone. When you winced, he froze, his amethyst eyes narrowed. Luckily it wasn’t life threatening. You both realized this at the same time. His hands were slightly shaky as he pulled away.

Hakkai quickly came and began to tend to your injuries. Sanzo stood and lit a cigarette. He turned his gaze away from you and exhaled a plume of smoke through his gritted teeth. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” he said coldly.

Later that night after being healed you stirred uneasily. You blinked and caught sight of him sitting near you in the inn. His head drooped in the chair and you realized that perhaps he was more worried than he let on. You know if you brought it up he’d deny it instantly.

Gojyo

Gojyo froze the second he saw you fall. “Hey!” he shouted, his voice cut through the chaos as he charged toward you. The playful smirk he usually wore had vanished, replaced by a look of raw determination. The last demons fell under his Shakujo, his movements were faster and more vicious than you’d ever seen.

As soon as the fight ended, he dropped to his knees beside you. “What the hell were you trying to prove?” he demanded. His voice cracked slightly as he added, “You’re supposed to be better than this, damn it.”

You could see his crimson eyes flicker with worry. The usual cocky demeanor was gone. Instead it was replaced seriousness. Something you rarely saw. “What happened to that fighter I know, huh?” he muttered under his breath.

Hakkai quickly stepped over to heal you but Gojyo stayed close. His hand on top of yours.

Later, after your wounds had been healed he sat next to you. He’d never left your side. “Next time, don’t be a hero.” He ran a hand through his crimson hair. “That’s my job.” His eyes then softened when a smile appeared on your face.

Hakkai

Hakkai noticed the moment you faltered. His sharp green eyes darted to you. “Hang on!” His movements became precise and efficient before he rushed to your side.

It only took moments for him to fight his way to you and when he did get to you he knelt by your side. He quickly assessed your injuries before sighing in relief. “You’ll be alright,” he said softly, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his concern. His chi glowed when he healed you. His touch was firm yet gentle.

“You’ve been reckless before, but this…” he murmured. “This was something else entirely. Don’t make me have to do this gain.” You couldn’t help but feel guilty for the worry in his voice. When the healing was done, Hakkai lingered and put a hand on your shoulder. “You scared me,” he admitted, his gaze met yours. “Next time, let us help you before it gets this bad. We are a team for a reason.”

Later that night after you’d been healed Hakkai made sure you were well fed with dinner. He was stern about making sure you had a sufficient amount of food after such an injury.

Dokugakuji

Doku’s roar of anger shook the battlefield when he saw you fall. He fought his way to you with a single-minded determination. His sword strikes were faster and harder than normal. He cut a clear path to you and by the time he got to you they were all defeated or retreated.

Once next to you he dropped his weapon, completely forgetting about it as you are the only thing he can think of. He knelt down beside you, his hands trembled slightly and he helped you sit up. “You’re too damn stubborn for your own good,” he growled, his voice rough with emotion. “Why didn’t you call for help? You know we’ve got your back.”

His expression softened slightly. He pulled his shirt off and used it to stop the bleeding, frustration still lingered on his face. “You don’t always have to do everything alone,” he said. “You’re not invincible, no matter how strong you think you are.”

Once your wounds were patched up by Yaone, he stayed close. He kept an arm around you for support. Later after your wounds had been patched up he sat close to you. His arms were crossed and brows furrowed. “You’re tougher than most people I know,” he murmured, almost to himself. “But don’t scare me like that again.”

Kougaiji

The moment you went down, Kougaiji’s eyes locked on you. His expression hardened and he abandoned his current fight to charge toward you. He unleashed a flurry of powerful attacks that obliterated the enemies around you. His violet eyes burned with fury. His movements were laced with an urgency he rarely showed.

When the battlefield was clear, he knelt beside you. There was tension in his jaw despite how steady his hands were. “You’re reckless,” he growled. “And it’s going to get you killed one day.”

Despite his scolding tone, there was a gentleness in the way he supported you as you tried to sit up. When you started to apologize, he cut you off with a sigh. “I don’t need your apology,” he said, his voice softening. “I need you to stop putting yourself in danger like this.”

Later, after you’d been healed by Yaone you noticed him standing against the wall near you. His arms were crossed and his usual stoic demeaned cracked just enough for you to see his worry. “You’re strong,” he said quietly. “But even the strongest need someone to watch their back. Let me do that for you.”

[starzzmissthesun]

The OC long post is here!!!!

Ok, to start this off, their story isn't completely worked out yet, but all of the important stuff is! Also, big thanks to @rowses and @thebearsthings for brainstorming with me!=DDD Also, they are the BIGGEST unreliable narrator, seeing as they barely remember their past, and have some perception vs reality issues. Im referring to my character as The Vampire(though they are not the only one) and the one who turned them and was their partner Their Lover. This is cause we dont know their names!! Also im referring to them both in gender neutral terms because The Vampire doesnt know much about Their Lover(nothing at all really) and they don't know that about themself(which ill get into later)

This will have talk of graphic violence and cuts/blood, and the vampirism is sort of a metaphor for sexual assault.

First and foremost, they are a vampire who travels as a bounty hunter. They get paid for killing the person, and that's how they feed. They are from the south, no particular time period, just before a time of internet. In being turned, they lost and forgot their entire identity, their name, gender, memories, and their lover, The reasons why will all be explained throughout. Bottom line, they're a mystery to themself.

Lets talk about the before, and how they got turned. For the years before, they were living in this beautiful Victorian home with their lover, that their lover "inherited" from distant relatives. In their mind, this relationship was perfect; soft touches, watching the sunset, kisses before a goodbye. (It was not, as a friend said "toxic yaoi (gender neutral)") Then, a kiss on the neck turned to teeth sunk deep. They started to feel drowsy, dizzy. (ill make a post about how i think vampires work if you want) They collapse to the floor as blood starts running down and their lover has betrayed them, after all this time. They almost jump to see if their lover is okay when they cut deep into their own wrist, but stops when the blood from that wrist is drained into their own mouth. They wake up in the dark, everything's too loud. They are covered in blood and alone. Alone in their own mind, too. As they walk around trying to figure out anything, they pick up notepads with dates written down and shorthand notes, little trinkets scattered around the house, a picture of them and their lover (?) but their faces are turned away. They run to find the closest mirror, but nobodies in it, nothings there. When they decide to leave the house, they stop in the pool of blood to see a ring sitting in the middle, the same on their lovers hand in the picture.

This is the only finished art I have of them rn->

This is right after they were bit, that's their lover in the mirror (not really there obviously). They wake up with bleached hair, but as time goes on they try to go to their natural colour in hopes of being themselves, but really get further always from their starting point. They do this with a lot of the "clues" they were given, they just take them so wrong and end up even more unhappy. They can't even look in a mirror to see them self, or get close enough to ask someone.

They figure out how being a vampire works, need to eat so they bounty hunt for money for places to stay in, the cowboy gettup allows them to cover their skin in the harsh sun. They never stop moving, they just keep going and going. They usually take cases that might lead them to their lover. They just want to know. They need to know why they would turn them into this, why they would throw away their lives together, why they would leave, what were they like, what The Vampire was like. They can not and will never be able to know more about themself because they will always be looking outwardly and in the past. They mourn their old self and idolize them, want to be them. Their loss of self will never be gained back, for they will never think "but what do i wanna be called, what gender do i feel like, what hair do i want to have?" because they are too busy looking for clues of what they used to be, what theyre "supposed" to be. They look at themself from before as a cookie cutter they must fit into.

They will never be able to have a happy ending for this reason, they are a tragedy. They look for their lost lover in others, every relationship they get into ends on strange terms and each is wildly different. They are somewhere else, always kind of absent for these people. They try so hard to be normal, to find these relationships, but there's always an ever present "What if?" What if my lover liked this? What if I wore my hair like that? What if they also drank their coffee this way? What if x kind of person was my type? What if I dressed this way? They will always be dissatisfied, because in their story (not the aus ill probably make for character exploration:\) they never find their lover, they never find out what they used to be like, or any of their history outside of nightmares and deja vu.

They travel the land, hoping motel to motel, kill to kill, lover to lover, NEVER in relief, always under tension. They feel their past self hovering behind them guarding, watching, judging. The only thing pushing them forward is the hope that theyll one day find Their Lover. When times get tough, they look to that same ring that left a permanent bruise on them, being twirled between their fingers.

Gonna definitely add to this later, and PLEASE ask questions or comments or anything, they drive me up the walls!!!!!!!

[diavolo-is-babygirl]

Diavolo and Male MC Fic: The Perfect Christmas Gift for a Butler

The streets of the Devildom were unusually festive, lined with glowing lights and snow-like crystals that floated softly through the air. Christmas in the Devildom was always a peculiar mix of earthly tradition and demonic flair. MC strolled beside Diavolo, who looked unusually serious as they wandered through a marketplace bustling with vendors.

“Are you sure about this?” Diavolo asked for the fifth time, his golden eyes darting between booths selling enchanted trinkets, rare teas, and peculiar artifacts.

MC smiled patiently. “Of course. Barbatos deserves a thoughtful gift, and who better to pick it out than you?”

Diavolo’s expression softened, but doubt lingered. “Barbatos does so much for me. He keeps the castle running, manages time itself, and ensures I don’t collapse under the weight of my duties. But I’ve never really… thanked him properly. How do you find a gift for someone who seems to already have everything?”

MC stopped, resting a hand on Diavolo’s arm to make him pause. “It’s not about finding something he needs. It’s about finding something that shows how much you care.”

Diavolo tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “You’re right. But I’ve never been good at expressing things like this. It’s easier to command armies or broker peace between realms than to tell someone how much they mean to me.”

MC chuckled. “Barbatos isn’t just your butler, you know. He’s more than that to you.”

Diavolo blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“Think about it,” MC said gently. “He’s been by your side for centuries, hasn’t he? He’s been your guide, your confidant, and even your protector. Barbatos is like… a father figure to you.”

Diavolo’s steps faltered, and he stared at MC, his expression unreadable. For a moment, MC worried he’d overstepped, but then Diavolo’s gaze softened, tinged with a bittersweet realization.

“I suppose you’re right,” Diavolo murmured, almost to himself. “I’ve always seen Barbatos as someone I can rely on, someone who’s always there. But I’ve never stopped to think about what that truly means.”

MC smiled encouragingly. “This gift is your chance to show him that you see it now. That you appreciate him for everything he’s done for you—not as a butler, but as someone who cares about you deeply.”

Diavolo nodded slowly, his resolve strengthening. “You’re right, MC. Barbatos deserves to know how much he means to me.”

The two resumed their search, and after some deliberation, they stopped at a quaint booth filled with handmade items. Diavolo’s gaze landed on a beautiful tea set, intricately designed with celestial patterns that shimmered faintly in the dim light. “He loves tea,” Diavolo said softly, lifting one of the cups to examine it. “He always says it’s the one thing that helps him unwind, even if only for a moment.”

MC grinned. “It’s perfect. You could pair it with a heartfelt letter. Tell him how much he means to you, in your own words.”

Diavolo hesitated for a moment, then smiled, his expression warm. “You always know how to help me, MC. Thank you.”

Later that evening, Diavolo presented Barbatos with the gift in the castle’s cozy sitting room. The butler, ever composed, accepted the tea set with his usual grace, but when Diavolo handed him the letter, his hands lingered on it for a moment longer than necessary. “I’ve never been good with words,” Diavolo admitted, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “But I hope this will convey how much you mean to me, Barbatos. Not just as my butler, but as someone who’s been like a father to me.”

For a fleeting moment, Barbatos’s calm demeanor wavered. His lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, and he inclined his head. “Thank you, my Lord. It is an honor to serve you, but even more so to know you hold me in such regard.”

As MC watched the exchange from the doorway, he couldn’t help but smile. It was a quiet, unspoken moment of warmth, but one that spoke volumes.

And for the first time, the Devildom felt a little more like home.

[hugmekenobi]

Wardrobe Change

A Bad Batch Series interlude oneshot

Image from the Popverse courtesy of Lucasfilm (my gif searches were being very uncooperative)

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Times change, uniforms change and this new design has its fair share of admirations.

Warnings: No use of y/n, pet names (sweetheart), Cid being Cid, I make up a timeline, affectionate possessiveness, fluff and feelings, Force communication working how I say it does, PDA in the form of making out and affectionate biting, spicy/suggestive dialogue, getting caught/interrupted, awkwardness

Masterlist for Season 1 chapters

Word Count: 4.7K

Rating: 18+

Author’s notes: It’s the last of the oneshots before we get into S2! This was purely because I wanted to start S2 off with the armour changes being understood and so I didn’t have to describe them lol but I hope there’s more substance for y’all to enjoy! Big shout out to @hugmedin who helped me when I got hit with a bad bit of writer’s block and wrote a section of this, including my favourite line in this fic that had me freaking out when I read it, love you my guy!! 

“Okay! I have them! Ugh this is so heavy!”

You all turned your attention over to the loud thud and you smiled as you saw Lyra collapsed over the container she had previously been carrying. She’d only just managed to get it through the doorway. “You should’ve told us. We’d have helped you bring it over.” You said as you stood up and walked over to her.

“It’s part of the service.” Lyra panted as she stood up and smoothed down her top. “I think you guys will like what I’ve done.”

“Can you get that out the way? It’s blocking the entrance! We don’t have all day for this. I have my own business to run!” Cid said by way of greeting.

“You weren’t exaggerating.” Lyra muttered.

“Give it 6 months and you’ll be on mildly better terms.” You uttered back with grin.

“Oi! Either help her or get out of her way. It’s bad enough you’re using my place as your fitting rooms!” Cid barked over at you.

“Better terms?” Lyra said with a small laugh.

“I did say mildly.” You replied, grabbing the other side of the box, and lifting it over to where the rest of your squad had congregated in the corner.

“Are they finally ready?” Omega asked excitedly as she gave Tech the datapad back.

“Omega, we haven’t finished-”

“Come on, Tech! I can do it later!” Omega griped.

Tech sighed in defeat.

“A quick break won’t hurt Tech.” You appeased.

“Let me see!” Omega said.

“Okay kid, hang on.” Lyra said with a smile. She opened the box and began the process of handing the updated armour out. “I played around a bit with them.”

“How much?” Hunter and Echo asked warily as they took theirs from her.

“Don’t stress. It’ll all look perfect. I changed the colours and symbols as requested but I got rid of a couple things that weren’t really necessary. You guys have more civilian type clothing to wear underneath now, rather than just those blacks you’d handed over. And that means you don’t have to always change into these clothes you’re wearing now if you want to take your armour off. Oh, and your codpieces are gone.”

“You took away a whole section of our armour?” Tech asked sceptically as he took his.

“They were annoying me.” She replied simply. “And I don’t think you’re in a position to act like it’s a super crucial piece you’re missing. You don’t have any thigh armour. That wasn’t a change I made, that was all you.” She added pointedly.

Tech opened his mouth to protest but he couldn’t think of a rebuttal fast enough.

You chuckled as you watched Tech walk away, mumbling something under his breath about how it suits his needs just fine.

“Where’s mine?” Omega asked eagerly.

“Alright kid. Here you go.” Lyra passed the pile of clothes over to Omega who grabbed them keenly and dashed off to change.

“Did I see a hat?” You asked as you watched her turn the corner.

“It makes the outfit.” Lyra replied with a smile.

You laughed. “I won’t question your style.”

“Good. Cause now it’s your turn.”

“You only changed the colour, right?”

“In a way…”

“Lyra…”

“Calm down. It’s nothing crazy. I still kept the hood and mask element you like. I just started from scratch. The top you bought from me before isn’t really suitable for what you do. I didn’t realise you operated with no armour at all. If I gave you the original one back, it would only be a matter of time before you had rips in it. I’m surprised it was in one piece for so long.”

“Okay… so?”

“So, I got my hands on this new material that is generally just sturdier so that’ll help, and you have some armour of your own.”

“Armour?” You said sceptically as you watched her reach down.

“Not a lot.” She reassured you. “I figured you liked the freedom of movement, it’s just a couple of things. Here’s the top.”

You took it from her, and you could already tell that it was better quality. The black fabric was thick but when you put it over your head, it fit snugly but still allowed for flexible movement. The mask and hood were indeed still there and where your previous top had red lining on the outside, this one now had a turquoise. Your eyes also noted the small white half skull that seemed to have been another element that was carried over. “And this was an essential thing you needed to keep?” You said, pointing to the sign.

Lyra grinned. “You both like it and don’t try to deny it.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled with her. “This is perfect though, thanks!”

“I’m not done.” She handed over the additional pieces to your ensemble.

You took the small parts of armour she’d give you. They were black and decorated with a mix of white and turquoise stripes. You also realised they were like the ones Hunter wore on his forearms. She’d also added a pair of black gloves.

“This means you’re also getting rid of that horrendous thing keeping that vibroblade on your thigh.” Lyra ordered.

“There’s nothing wrong with it!” You said defensively, glancing down to your thigh where your vibroblade was encased. Sure, the strap was fraying, and it was no longer the same colour as it was when you had first got it and some of the leather was showing cracks, but it served its purpose just fine. Plus, it had been with you through a lot of highs and lows and although a mantra throughout your life had been ‘no attachments,’ you had found that both Hunter and this strap were exceptions to the rule and you were rather fond of it.

Lyra just gave you a sad look. “Look at it. It’s disgusting. Throw it in here and never think about it again.” She insisted, turning the box towards you.

You sighed and chucked your vibroblade on the table before you threw your old strap into the empty container. You attached the new pieces to your forearms before you sheathed your vibroblade into the one on your left arm. You then put the next pieces that ran from your shoulders to the end of your upper arm. You were annoyed to find that Lyra was right, and you didn’t feel restricted by having them there.

“And you told me yourself your blaster holster is a hand-me-down from Tech. Put that one away too.”

“You were just waiting for a chance to upgrade my stuff weren’t you?” You grumbled as you took your blaster out and removed your holster. It joined your old vibroblade strap.

“Oh yeah.” Lyra said with a smug smile.

You attached the new holster to your thigh and put your blaster in it. “Happy now?” You asked, gesturing up and down your body.  

“You look hot!” Lyra said as she circled you, studying how you looked with the new parts on.

“Shut up.” You laughed, slightly flustered.

“Your sergeant is a lucky guy. How’d your secret project got by the way?”

Before you could reply, a shout got both of your attention.

“We’re ready! I love it!”

You turned to the sound of Omega’s voice, and you grinned as you saw her delighted expression. It had been a while since Kamino and Omega had definitely grown so it was about time she had something that fit with that, and she did now. She had grey bottoms and a red top which was worn underneath a light blue layer, and she had red fabric wrapped around her right wrist. The hat was a cute touch as well. The rest of your squad also looked pretty good. It was odd though, seeing them in colours that weren’t the signature ones they used wear and any insignia illustrating them being Clone Force 99 being gone.

Lyra clapped her hands together. “I truly outdid myself! You guys look fabulous!”

“Yeah, you guys look great!” You added.

Wrecker and Omega beamed, whilst Tech and Echo merely gave small nods.

“You look great too!” Omega said as she walked over to you.

“Yeah, Hunter’s got colours like that too. You guys’ll look good!” Wrecker added.

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Speaking of that, where is our fearless leader?” You asked.

“He wanted to rearrange the scarf.” Echo replied.

“Scarf?” You repeated, your throat going dry. You looked over to Lyra.

She shrugged. “I like accessories. Sue me.”

You turned your head over to the sound of Hunter coming back into the main area and it took everything in you not to stare at him for an abnormal amount of time. His armour, like the rest of theirs had maintained most of its original structure-minus the codpiece- and his colours were indeed similar to the ones you had. He had the more civilian looking clothes underneath with the rest of his armour donning a mix of black, white, and turquoise. He had the same bit of orange running down the centre of his chest plate like his brothers had and his helmet still had half of it painted white to match the skull tattoo on his face. The red wrappings around his wrists mirrored the one Omega had and the red scarf… well the scarf was definitely a nice added feature.

Hunter nearly did a double take as he saw you. You looked… well you looked powerful, capable. Not that you didn’t look like that already but there was something about seeing you with actual armour that accentuated that part of you. Plus, the fact he was wearing colours that matched with yours was an added bonus.

“Well, my work here is done!” Lyra said cheerily as she bent down to grab the now empty case.

Hunter tore his eyes away from you and nodded his thanks to her before he saw that you were still looking at him. “What?” He asked as he joined the others and grabbed a drink. He brought his cup to his lips.

“Nothing. Looks good.” You said casually, turning away to follow Lyra out. Just thinking of all the things a scarf can do that a bandana can’t.

The choked splutter that followed had you smirking to yourself as you walked out the door.

--

“You sure we don’t owe you anything for this?” You double checked as you both stood outside the entrance to Cid’s.

Lyra shook her head. “You guys helped me out when I was being harassed by Marco and his goons. We’re even now.”

“Yeah, but getting to beat up Marco and Co is fun.” You said lightly. “You don’t need to repay us for that.”

“I wanted to. Besides, it was actually kinda fun. I haven’t had a project like that to work on in a while. Just point people in my direction if they ask who did this fabulous work and we’re all good.”

You huffed out a laugh. “You got it. I’ll see you around, Lyra. Thank you.”

“Yeah, see you around!” She grabbed her stuff and walked away.

You fished the necklace out your pocket and studied the small symbol on the end of the black leather cord.  It wouldn’t be noticeable under his clothes and armour. You just hoped he would like it.

--

You and Hunter seemed to find any excuse to gravitate towards one another and touch each other, even if it was nothing more than a simple touch that lasted a matter of seconds. Yes, you’d started it with your comment about the scarf, but he really wasn’t helping with things. The air between the two of you had been charged ever since you’d walked back down those steps and now every touch sent warmth flooding through you, and you were sure it was the same for him. To the others, the hand wrapped around your shoulder seemed completely innocent since you were all engaged in casual conversations, but it sent a thrumming through your veins you couldn’t control. And, judging by the way he’d tensed up when you’d laid your hand on his thigh, you weren’t the only one. You all had shed your armour since Cid didn’t have a mission so that definitely wasn’t making things any easier for you.

It felt like a test. Who was going to be the one to give in first? You really didn’t want it to be you and you think you had a way to do that. As Wrecker and Omega got up to go play a game of Dejarik, with Tech and Echo going to watch, you turned to face him. “Can I talk to you outside?”

Hunter looked at you quizzically but nodded and followed you as you stood up.

You made your way to the exit.

“Where are you going?” Omega asked as she waited for Wrecker to make his move.

“We’ll be back.” You replied.

--

“Everything okay?” Hunter asked as you began to pace in front of him.

“Yes. I just- Look I’m- What I’m trying-.” You stopped with an aggravated huff. You’d rehearsed this countless times in your head, and it wasn’t a big deal, worst he could say was no.

“Sweetheart.” Hunter grabbed your wrist to get you to stop walking. “Take a breath, look at me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”

Hunter tilted his head. “Why not? You usually don’t mind it. In fact, you tend to quite enjoy it.” He added with a smirk.

You shot him a playful glare and removed his hand which had worked its way to your waist. “Yes, exactly. You’re distracting me and I have a plan here. You’re not going to ruin it with your-” You didn’t finish your sentence, you just gestured to him.

Hunter held his hands up in mock surrender and leaned against the edge of the entry way.

You inhaled deeply and started pacing again. “I consider myself a pretty independent person, you know? Not one to be dependent on much, certainly not a man in my life. But then you come along, and suddenly I’m finding particular things I thought I would hate, quite, well, quite attractive. Take this for example.” You pointed to the half skull on your top. “I was convinced I would hate it, but I don’t. I don’t mind the message it sends.” You stopped and faced him. “However, I can’t just be what this suggests. You’re a part of me, the whole squad is, but I don’t want to be seen as someone whose only purpose is to belong to you.”

Hunter straightened up as he addressed you. “I know that. If I’ve given you reason to believe otherwise, I’m sorry. I’m sure Lyra could change it. I didn’t mean-”

“Hunter, I know.” You reassured him. “That’s not what I’m saying. I only mean I thought it would be nice if you maybe had something that- uh.” You broke off with an awkward cough before you continued, “Represented me.”  You brought the necklace out and handed it to him.

“Where’d you make that?” Hunter asked quietly as he studied the necklace which had attached to it a tiny metallic symbol. A symbol he’d seen many times during the Clone Wars. It was the symbol for the Jedi Order.

“Lyra gave me access to her stuff. Don’t worry, she didn’t know exactly what I was doing.” You added quickly as you saw the concern that flashed across his face. You looked down at the ground and scuffed the toe of your boot through the dirt. “Do you like it? I know it’s a bit risky but figured you could conceal it easily enough and I-” The strong hands on your waist that guided you backwards to the wall cut you off. You glanced up but before you could take your next breath, Hunter’s lips met yours and what little resistance you had left crumbled, but hey, technically he kissed you first, so you counted it as a win. You let him press his body tight to yours and you kissed him eagerly. You like it then?

Hunter didn’t answer directly. He just kissed along your jaw and nipped the skin by the spot behind your ear that he knew would elicit a moan from you and you didn’t disappoint. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He said, still out of breath and his voice even lower than what it usually was.

You released a sigh and your head fell back against the wall as he continued to leave marks on the skin of your neck. I have a pretty good idea.

“I’m serious.” He slid his hand on your cheek, so you were forced to look at him and he very nearly lost it. Your eyes were wide, and your breathing was still uneven, and he wanted nothing more than to continue but he needed to say this first. “From the minute you showed up on Devaron to help, I was enthralled by you. You took out a line of droids with nothing more than a slightly longer vibroblade on your back and acted like it was a regular day. Sure, later on we discovered there was a bit more reason behind that.”

You smiled slightly but your eyes dipped down as a wave of guilt washed over you at the memory of your dishonesty.

“Hey.” Hunter said softly as he saw your mind leave the current moment. He tucked his finger under your chin and angled your face back up. “That’s not why I brought it up. Don’t go back there. Stick with me here cause there’s a point to all this, I promise.”

You sighed and nodded.

Hunter breathed deeply. “You were incredible and there was no hesitation from me, or the others quite frankly, when it came to offering a place with us. I just underestimated the impact you were going to have on my life. It didn’t take long for my brothers to start giving me a hard time, but I was too stubborn to listen.”

Join the club.

He smiled at you before he continued. “Remember, when there was that stampede of Reeks and I got hurt. It was about two months after you’d joined us?” When he saw you nod, he carried on, “You remember how I got injured?”

“The last dregs of the Separatist droids sent a final charge our way. The blast meant I slipped and fell into the cavern where they were running. You came after me and pushed me out the way.” You said softly.

“Yeah, I did. I- I was in love with you then.”

“Well, then we were on very similar timelines.” You revealed with a smile.

Hunter huffed out a laugh. “So, fast forward to now. You’re wearing something that ties you to me and I don’t think you realise exactly the effect that has on me. And then I come out to see I’m wearing the same the colours you are. And to top it off, you’re asking me to wear something that ties me to you? I can say with no hesitation that you’re a part of me too.” With that, he looped it over his neck.

You took a shaky breath as you watched him put it on and you understood why the half skull on your top had meant so much to him. “You think the colours thing only mattered to you? Why do you think I had to give it to you now?” You murmured. “You were killing me in there.”

Hunter nuzzled into your neck. “That why you dragged me out here? Couldn’t wait?” He muttered into your skin and began to place light kisses on your neck, altering what side had his attention.   

“That why you followed me out here?” You countered as you struggled to keep your composure. 

“I thought you wanted to talk.” Hunter replied, his eyes lifting to yours, an unspoken challenge behind them. 

“I-I did talk.” You maintained. 

“And now?”

“And now I’m done.” You grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him with fervour. And I’m counting this as a win. You broke first.  

Hunter chuckled and moved so his lips brushed against your jawline again as his hand trailed from your cheek down to your neck where it stopped for a moment before he continued, and his palm came to rest on the left side of your chest. Your heartbeat pounded beneath his fingertips.

You didn’t let him linger there too long. Wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, you pulled him in even closer and bucked your hips forward into him in an attempt to banish the remaining space between the two of you. As you did so Hunter let out a moan into the crook of your neck and the resulting vibrations sent your mind to mush. Your hands frantically grabbed at his shirt, the fabric bunching in between your fingers as you tried to bring him even closer. You let out a frustrated moan, you felt like he was holding back, and you were losing patience. 

Hunter let out a soft chuckle and you could feel his smile against your skin, genuine and unfiltered. “Relax.”  he whispered into your ear. “I’m right here.” 

Your hands slid from his waist up the length of his back, his muscles rigid but warm against your palm. You nipped at his ear, your hips still bucking into him, and you’d never been more thankful that Lyra had gotten rid of the cod pieces, but it also meant you became more and more desperate.  

“I need you closer.” Your voice came out strained as you looked up at him and you made no attempt to disguise your desire as you continued to press yourself against him.   

“That can be arranged.” 

The lights in the alleyway were dim but you could have sworn you saw a glimmer form in his eyes, the kind that only appeared when the two of you were alone. Upon seeing that, all sensible thoughts about the risks of doing this in public left your head completely. 

Bending down ever so slightly he brought both his hands to the back of your thighs lifting you up against the wall in one swift movement. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he held you in position against the wall. Your fingers found themselves wrapped up in Hunter’s hair which you used to gently tug his face away from where he was placing deep kisses along your collarbone. He let out a deep sigh which caught in his throat and resembled something close to a growl. As you held his head there you allowed yourself a moment to admire the way his eyes had grown darker, and his chest and shoulders heaved as he caught his breath. His lips remained parted as he patiently waited for instructions from you. Removing your hand from his hair you brought it back to caress his tattooed cheek, this time allowing your thumb to softly trail his lower lip.

He drew you into a deep kiss, the kind that left your lips raw and your lungs begging for oxygen that you swore you could definitely live without - but eventually you had to give into your reflex and come up for air. 

Hunter broke away first, bringing his forehead to rest tenderly against yours. His hands reached under your top; his gloved hands caressed your skin. “You sure about doing this here? I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop once-”  

Yes. You nodded eagerly but before you were able to continue, a horrified shout got both of your attention. 

“Ugh are you kidding me! You two really couldn’t wait?! Ugh my eyes!” Wrecker complained as he instantly turned away from the scene in front of him.

Hunter quickly let you down and he was sure your mortified expression matched his and you both turned to face the backs of Wrecker and Echo. 

“Oh, uh, hey boys. What, eh, what brings you out here?” You winced out as you adjusted your top.

At the sound of your feet hitting the ground, Echo turned to face you both and gave a disapproving stare. “Omega is about to play Tech and wanted to see if any of you wanted the next round so, we came out to ask. She nearly left to ask herself, but I figured based on past experience-”

“Okay.” Hunter interrupted him before he went any further.

You can turn around, Wrecker.

Wrecker took you at your word. “What happened to talking?”

“I mean… we did talk. Just got a bit carried away.” Your eyes focused on fiddling with the end of your sleeve.

“I’ll say.” Wrecker griped. 

“That’s the third time this month. We’ve talked about this. It was bad enough when Tech interrupted you guys in the cockpit.” Echo chastised you both.

Hunter couldn’t find any words. He just kept his eyes on the ground. 

“Hey, you didn’t have to listen to the lecture he gave afterwards on the importance of hygiene and sanitation.” You grumbled. 

“You’ve been lucky it hasn’t been Omega yet.” Echo continued, paying little attention to your words.

You knew he was right. The two of you had been pretty reckless lately and the very fact Omega hadn’t been one of the unfortunates to witness said reckless moments is something you thanked the Force for. “I’m sorry, we’ll be better.”

“Yeah, sorry boys. It won’t happen again.” Hunter said firmly.

A few beats of uncomfortable silence passed.

“You guys aren’t coming back down any time soon, are you?” Echo asked reluctantly as he nodded to where both of your hands were.

The two of you hadn’t noticed the new places your hands had found themselves in. Your fingers were lightly tracing up and down Hunter’s arm whilst his had found itself around your waist again and his thumb rubbed up and down your side. Upon hearing Echo’s words, you both glanced at each other. Tell Omega I owe her a game. We’ll be back later tonight. You said in a way of reply, your brain slowly starting to block the presence of the other two out.

Echo sighed tiredly. “Just get out of here. Come on, Wrecker. We probably don’t want to linger here much longer.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Wrecker hastily turned on his heels and walked back down the steps to Cid’s, with Echo following close behind.

“Well… that could’ve been worse.” You mumbled into his shoulder after they left before you trailed a line of kisses along his neck, your teeth lightly grazed his skin.

“I can’t say I can see how. That was- that was pretty awkward.” Hunter managed to stammer out.

“I could’ve been in a more compromising position.” You purred as your hand trailed down his chest and you made to kneel in front of him. You knew he was feeling more sensible, and you definitely knew it was better to head back to the Marauder but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have your fun.

He swiftly tugged you back up and shook his head at you as he saw the cat-like grin on your face. “Careful, or I’ll have to continue this here anyway.” Hunter groaned as you slowly ground your hips against him.

“Promises, promises.” You whispered back, tugging his lip between your teeth and you took pleasure in the low moan that left him. Your hands kept a tangled grip in the scarf as you kissed him and tugged him to you.

Before he really did get too carried away, Hunter pulled away, but he still kept you tight to him. “I believe you had some thoughts for the use of this scarf? I got some ideas.” Hunter rasped.

“Hmm, I’m much more of a practical learner.” You hummed against his lips.

Stifling a groan, Hunter kissed you once more before he wrapped an arm around your waist and the two of you hustled away to the Marauder.

Masterlist

Tagging@ @noeasyisnoisy, @tpwkcalli, @fuckoffthanos, @arctrooper69, @graciexmarvel, @flyingkangaroo, @nightmonkeysstuff, @a-streakofazure​, @ladytano420​, @dragonrider9905​, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf​, @yyourmotherr​, @xxeiraxx​ 

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

Twisted Love Part 6

Loki x Reader

Pairing: Loki x Wife reader

Warnings: Forced marriage, language, anxiety, panic attacks, naughty talk lol, if I forgot anything please let me know!

Summary: You find the source of the noise.

The dimming of the sky caught your attention.

Perhaps you should be getting back before anyone worries about your absence.

You are just about to turn back when a sudden howl has you frozen to the spot.

*Ooooowaooooooooooo*

Heavens did you wander too far?? Was a wolf going to make you it's dinner now??

You backed up a few steps quietly listening for any sign of the wolf.

*owoooooooooooooooo*

You knew that sound. That wasn't the sound of a predator hunting it's prey... no that was the sound of a wounded animal.

But still something was off...

It howled again and against every voice telling you to high tail it back to camp your feet found themselves walking in the opposite direction.

The howl- no-cry grew louder and you knew you were heading in the right direction.

You veered off the trail down a rocky slope. The rocks cut into your feet but you hardly noticed.

The cry was practically in your ear now and once you reached the bottom of the slope you found the source of the pained calling.

A small furry being, the color of fallen snow was hanging onto a broken branch, it's two front paws gripping wildly to the wood whilst it's legs swung helplessly trying to grip but failing. Below the creature was a rushing body of water, not too wide but to the creature it was an ocean.

With little to no hesitation you bounded towards the baby in distress.

The freezing water biting at your skin the moment you entered it. Your lungs burned with the effort it took to wade over to the branch.

By the time you reached the little wolf the water was up to your neck.

"Here little one, don't be afraid! C-come on, please- come on, you can trust me! just a little more- come on!- ah" you winced slipping onto a sharp rock below, your head bobbing under for a moment.

*cough* *cough* "I-It's ok, it's ok, I'll save you I p-promise!" You tried reaching again, managing to grab onto the furry scruff for a moment before it slipped through your fingers. The current kept trying to rip you away which made every attempt even harder.

Your eyes went wide when the tiny paws lost their grip.

You dove forward and gasped in relief when you felt the bundle of fur. You gripped it hard towards your body, knowing that if you let go the current would take the creature forever.

The creature struggled in your grasp and you tried your best to calm it down whilst wading back towards the rocks.

You collapsed on the stones coughing and sputtering. The bundle was still wrapped in your arms although it did calm down. When you caught your breath enough you rolled to the side enough to look at the little wolf.

"A-are you alright little one?" The poor little thing shook its fur in an attempt to dry itself but was clearly shivering.

“What are you doing out here on your own hmm?” The cub regarded you warily but when you reached out your hand it wasn’t long before you felt a nudge.

You picked up the cub bringing it close to your chest. “Sorry my sweet, I know it’s not exactly a cozy fire but we wouldn’t want you to get sick would we? I promise as soon as I get back I’ll wrap you up in warm furs- oh dear- not wolf furs of course- other furs- fake furs- just forget I said anything…” you continued on babbling to the cub wrapped up in your arms and made your way back in the direction of camp.

By the looks of the sky you’d been gone a long while. Hopefully you didn’t cause any trouble…

A short while later you found yourself near the border of the camp.

You paused just before exiting the tree line.

You looked down at yourself, soaking wet, clothing ripped, covered in mud.

I can’t exactly walk into camp looking like this…

“Alright little one, you’re going to have to be very quiet alright?” You hid the creature inside of your dress the best you could.

Using the shadows of other tents you managed to sneak your way past the smaller ones of the guards and then hurriedly stepped through the flaps of the bigger one made for you and Loki.

Finally the warmth of the enchanted fire place inside had you sighing in relief.

The cub squirmed out of your dress and practically sprinted to the heated flames. You laughed as you watched it roll around the fur lined floor in comfort.

“Now that’s more like it hmm?”

“Now you just wait there while I slip into something a bit more comfortable….

Heavens I’m so wet, once I tear these clothes off me and you are going to take a nice hot bath and warm each other up-“

Just then a sudden clanging had your head swinging towards the tent entrance.

Your eyes widen at what you see.

Loki is there, his breathing almost…heavy? His brows furrowed deeply as you watched his gaze circle the room before landing on you, and when they did you felt you wanted to have the universe swallow you up.

His eyes slowly roamed from top to bottom and then once more. As if he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at and truth be told he wasn’t.

“L-Loki-“ his eyes immediately flicked up to you. You gulped frozen to the spot.

“What on Asgard-” A little yap had you both snapping towards the fire where the little wolf was. Then slowly Loki’s gaze made it back to you but you did notice him flickering around the room as if searching for something.

“I-I” the panic took control of your tongue again like it always seemed to do.

Loki raised a single brow waiting for your explanation.

“You…?”

“I’m wet”.

*********************************************

I tried to end it on a funny note lol. Also very sorry for the wait, the next chapters won't take so long. I'm going to try to update at least once a week from now on!

Next part

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[nightghoul381]

Nokto 3rd Anniversary Event

A Beast's Dream Realized by Beauty

Chapter 1

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Prince. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Premium End | Epilogue

There’s been something I’ve been wondering about lately.

Clavis: “You work too much.”

Luke: “You work too much.”

Emma: “I knew it”

Chevalier: “…”

When I visited the foreign affairs faction, it was unusual to see all of the princes other than Nokto.

I’m face to face with two of them, Chevalier silently handling documents at his desk.

The central figure of today’s conversation is King Nokto.

Nokto is often absent form the court these days.

He seems to have many diplomatic appointments in quick succession, sometimes returning to the castle just before dawn.

(I heard you were busy with the social season, but…)

Clavis: “At that rate, one day he’ll collapse from overwork. Let the love-nursing chapter begin, eh?”

Emma: “I don’t want to start.”

Luke: “Thanks to him working so much, I have free time.”

Emma: “If you ask Prince Chevalier, I’m sure there are plenty of jobs.”

Luke: “No.”

Clavis: “Haha, somehow Nokto is the hardest working person in the foreign affairs faction.”

Clavis: “But, humans have limits. Unless you’re a super-human like Chevalier, you will die.”

Emma: “…I-I have to do whatever it takes to get him to rest.”

Clavis: “Do you have a shovel?”

Emma: “I don’t need one.”

Luke: “What about honey?”

Emma: “Don’t you want it?”

(The only way to get a busy Nokto to rest is to use my trump card, not a shovel or honey.)

--Nokto’s room—

Emma: “Nokto, welcome back!”

Nokto: “I’m home, I told you to go to sleep.”

Nokto came back late at night today. I greeted him while hugging him.

I missed his signature smell of the night.

Nokto: “…Are you up to something?”

Emma: “Why?”

Nokto: “Your body is stiff.”

His fingertips traced the lines of my body and I unintentionally reacted.

(As expected of Nokto, He’s tired but still sharp.)

Nokto: “Is it something dirty?”

Emma: “It’s not like that.”

Nokto: “That’s unfortunate. Then what is it?”

Emma: “…It’s…”

Emma: “Recently, I’ve been feeling lonely.”

Nokto: “…”

Emma: “I’m missing my Nokto, so I feel like I want to take you somewhere far away and go on vacation with you.”

Nokto: “A vacation…”

(Nokto never takes a rest, even if I say ‘rest’.)

(But he’s sweet to me… If I approach it like this, he should definitely take a break.)

It takes some rough treatment to get the busy, hard-working Nokto to realize that he needs a break.

Emma: “Are you too busy?”

Nokto: “What do you mean? I can at least take a few days.”

Emma: “Really?!”

Nokto: “However—”

I was honestly very happy and Nokto grinned at me.

Nokto: “It’s in exchange for your dirty face, right?”

Emma: “I don’t know what face you’re talking about.”

Nokto: “Then I’ll tell you.”

Nokto’s finger caresses my lips and taps them.

(Do you want me to open my mouth?)

When I obediently obliged, he slipped his finger inside and tickled my tongue.

Unable to close my mouth, his obscene hands play with my tongue.

(What should I do… I’m starting to feel weird.)

Nokto licked the moisture that was about to fall from the corner of my mouth.

Heat flooded through my body, pooling in the pit of my stomach.

Nokto: “See, you’re already looking nasty. It’s easy isn’t it?”

Finally, he removed his fingers and I was freed from his lewd play.

Emma: “…Nokto.”

Nokto: “Yes, yes I will accompany you on vacation.”

Nokto: “…Thanks, love.”

(Ah… he noticed.)

The soft way he said those last words turned the heat in my body to another emotion.

(Maybe that was just Nokto’s way of hiding his embarrassment.)

When I hugged Nokto again as he turned his back to change, our laughter echoed throughout the room.

A few days later, the talented Nokto immediately made time for me—

Old Lady: “Welcome, thank you for coming all this way.”

Old man: “Prince Nokto, it’s been a while. You’ve grown up…”

Nokto: “Yes, thanks to you. Thank you for taking me up on my request on such short notice.”

(Um…what do you mean?)

I offered to make the preparations for the vacation but Nokto insisted that he had an idea.

In that case, I decided to take his word for it and as a result, we visited the neighboring country of Benitoite.

When we arrived at the mansion in a prime location in Benitoite, we were greeted by a refined old couple.

I had already memorized most of the faces I’d seen in the social world, including in Benitoite.

I had never seen this couple.

(I heard that they would be hosting us in this mansion for a few days, but…)

Old lady: “There’s a rumor about that woman…”

Nokto: “Yes, this is my fiancée.”

Emma: “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I hid my confusion behind a smile and bowed.

My fiance’s eyes lit up at the sight of me.

Old Lady: “Well, well… that Prince Nokto who kept us on our toes with his many infamous affairs, is really…”

Nokto: “I am now a single-minded person. Everyday I’m fascinated by the flowers that show no signs of wilting.”

Nokto hugs my shoulders and puts a beautiful, diplomatic smile on his lips.

The old couple seemed really touched, and we even received a small round of applause.

Emma: “Umm… I’m sorry for my lack of knowledge, what is your relationship with King Nokto?”

Nokto: “Relative.”

Emma: “Eh?”

Nokto: “They settled in Benitoite, but they have a distant connection with the royal lineage of Rhodolite.”

Old lady: “Now, I’m just a lowly Benitoite merchant.”

Old man: “Nokto once studied in Benitoite for a short period of time.”

Old man: “At that time, according the wishes of His Majesty the previous king and Sariel, we welcomed Nokto into our home.”

(What story is this, I’ve never heard of it!?)

Nokto smiled wryly as if my surprise had been obvious.

Nokto: “It’s nothing to hide, but I don’t think it’s worth talking about.”

Nokto: “Speaking of studying abroad, I spent more time in the Acroite boarding school than in Benitoite.”

(Boarding school? This is the first time I’ve heard of it.)

It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to know Nokto, but it seems there are still many things I don’t know.

(But it’s weird, Nokto’s expression is somewhat awkward.)

Nokto: “By the way, there seems to be more luggage in the hall than the last time I visited.”

Old lady: “I’m sorry. Actually, I have plans to open a stall at the antique market that will be held in a few days.”

Old lady: “When I was sorting out my things, I found a lot of useless antiques. I wanted to sell them.”

Nokto: “Hmm… are there any books on display at the antique market?”

Old lady: “Yes. Not among the items we sell, but we do see stalls specializing in books every year.”

(Antique books!)

Nokto: “Then, shall we also take a peek at the market on that day?”

Emma: “…Did it show on my face?”

Nokto: “Extremely.”

(oops… even though it’s in front of the couple.)

I felt my ears burning and when I looked down, Nokto burst out laughing as if he couldn’t take it any more.

Nokto: “I don’t mind. You’re cute when you’re honest aren’t you?”

Emma: “Nokto…!”

Old lady: “Well, that Nokto sure has grown to laugh so much…”

Old man: “… I feel like I’m going to end up crying at my age.”

Old lady: “Me too… the old Nokto was a child who didn’t smile, as if he had forgotten his emotions somewhere else.”

Old lady: “It’s nice to see you smile with emotion.”

Nokto: “When are you talking about?”

Nokto’s expression became laced with bitterness.

(Nokto… a child who doesn’t smile?)