#with the one exception of death wish PFFT

[intotheelliwoods]

OOOOH GOSH 🥺 Ok I deserved this gut punch.

Okay silliness aside… I love to think of the raw ANGST of TNV-Leo meeting @intotheelliwoods ‘s Poptart and Sprout.

Have a few little headcanons below but they’re a little Spoopy so proceed with caution

(cw for blood, self-harm, a little bit of body horror and Leo being a smug jerk)

For a darker take on TNV-Leo’s reaction to meeting the 2AL Leo and Future Leo… I’d imagine TNV-Leo would be very, very, very envious.

He’d be absolutely sick with jealousy. All he’d be able to think about was the fact that they got out. They succeeded when he couldn’t. Even Sprout, even though he came from the bad future, he was a leader everyone relied on. He was responsible. Strong. Unlike TNV-Leo.

And if Poptart and Sprout had a violent/terrified reaction to his Krang parasite, TNV-Leo would get great satisfaction out of it. A petty sense of revenge. Much like a sibling getting back at another for something silly. (At least, that’s how TNV Leo would feel about it— he wasn’t totally malicious, but he also doesn’t grasp the scope of just how scary this reveal was.)

And with TNV-Leo’s messed-up-noodle, it would be hard for him to register that they were real. That they were their own selves from another universe rather than a hallucination like he thought they were—

Perhaps it was out of sense of spite. Perhaps it was out of a sense of wanting what they had. Or simply wanting to feel like he belonged too—

But I could see him making a spectacle of cutting off his arm (like in that one chapter). Slicing it off with his Krang tail, cheekily commenting that now they all ‘matched’ 🩵

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — James has a huge crush on his labmate, the only question is how long will it take him to ask her out? (Answer: it's longer than you think)

WARNINGS — cancer mentions, patient death from cancer, drugs, alcohol (don't be mistaken this fic is tooth-rotting fluff)

NOTE — Okay this fic has come up from my compulsory need to elaborate on anything Canadian so if you ever wanted to see James at McGill, this fic is most definitely for you! Also I guess it's indirectly mentioned that reader was raised in Quebec, but obviously doesn't have to be "Quebecois" for this to work

Pronounciation — Jian = Chyehn

James chewed on the inside of his cheek as he walked up to the Stewart Biological Sciences Building on McGill campus. For some reason, it was so much more intimidating now that he was actually a student. During the tour he had his mother’s reassuring hand on his back, his father’s words of comfort that he would most definitely be accepted when he applied. 

Now that he had made it, he had to prove he belonged, but it could have been worse. His friends at Harvard and the University of Toronto had told him so. He was getting the best of both worlds, a prestigious school and, hopefully, not as much pressure as the rest of them. 

Without loitering any longer, he made his way inside and looked around to find the right lecture hall. It couldn’t possibly be that hard, could it?

After his first semester James had realized he’d made a few mistakes. One was living in a French speaking part of town without knowing a lick of the language, but that one was the easiest to deal with. The others were more in the realm of the amount of sleep he was getting and underestimating how much content the professors could shove down their throats in 14 weeks. 

He was more than happy to return to New Jersey for the holiday break to rest and recuperate before going back to the winter wonderland hell that was Montreal, but this time he was confident he would be more prepared. 

And for the most part, he was. He got enough sleep, partied responsibly (except Fridays, he partied hard then), always submitted his work on time and maintained his good GPA, making up for his poor fall semester. What he didn’t expect, however, was a distraction. 

When you walked into the room James watched you curiously, he thought maybe he’d seen you somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite place it. Besides, you were much more interesting than watching his sample boil for another five minutes. 

You came and took a seat next to him, taking out your safety goggles and lab notebook from your bag before shoving it under the table. 

“You’re sample’s boiling over,” you said, but James didn’t register you were talking to him at first, still looking at you in a slightly dazed manner before you physically pointed to the beaker, making his eyes go wide as he frantically turned down the heat and removed it. 

“It’s a wonder you passed the lab safely quiz,” you teased and James blushed. 

“Good thing I don’t want to be a chemist.” 

“Oh, and what do you want to be then?” you asked, preparing your own sample for boiling. 

“A doctor,” he shared with a little more confidence. 

“Any specialty in mind or just a doctor,” you said, doing air quotes over the word. 

“I’ve been shadowing some of the researchers in the Life Sciences Research Complex and I think oncology might be a good fit for me.” 

“Yeah, as long as you don’t have to boil cancer cells you should be fine,” you assured him. 

“What about you?” he rolled on the balls of his feet as he continued his experiment. “Or are you all talk?” 

“Pfft, you think I’d be here if I was all talk?” you asked. “No, I want to be a medical researcher.” 

“Maybe you should do some shadowing in the LSRC then.” 

“No thanks, I think I’ll stick to my job there.” 

“Your job?” James looked at your wish surprise. “Aren’t you like 18?” 

“Almost,” you smiled. 

“How did you manage to get a job there? They barely let undergraduates in the labs, let alone be responsible for anything.” 

“It’s nothing fancy,” you assured him. “I just do cataloguing for now, but it's a good experience.” 

“Still,” he raised his brows, “you must be like a prodigy or something.” 

“Again, no,” you shook your head. “Just someone who goes after what she wants.” 

There was a comfortable pause where you both took down your distillation set ups and began working on the filtration portion of the experiment. 

“So what’s your name, anyways?” you asked, looking over at him. “Hey, look, clamp it this way,” you demonstrated and he followed your lead, seeing how much more stable the glassware was afterwards. 

“Thanks,” he smiled. “I’m James.” 

You told him your name and continued your work again in silence.

Chemistry labs quickly became the favourite part of James’ week. 

Ever since that lab, James began to see you in all his classes. On more than a few occasions, he’d had to steal notes from his friends on account of forgetting to pay attention. It became an easy thing to tease him about, so his friends began calling him heart-eyes, because who was he kidding, he had a crush. 

“Get your head out of your ass, heart-eyes, I am not giving you my notes again,” his friend, Carlo, shoved his arm and whispered harshly as he could see him getting distracted. 

“Sorry,” James shook his head and began scribbling down what he had missed, his eyes darting back and forth from the board and back to you. 

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Pierre asked him after class. “Don’t you talk all the time in the lab?” 

“More like I stare at her and she says stuff to make it not awkward,” he cringed at his own actions. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every time I’m with her I can’t string together a sentence, and– Jesus Christ you should have seen my face last week! Full on red, like I can’t even be subtle about it!” 

“Yikes,” Jian grimaced. 

“It’s bad, I know,” James assured. 

“And this is why we call you heart-eyes,” Carlo patted James on the back. 

“Yeah, say it a little louder, maybe she’ll hear you,” James said sarcastically. 

“Who’ll hear you?” the group of boys heard a voice behind them and all their eyes went wide as they spun around and saw you. 

“No one!” Jian was quick to answer in the least nonchalant way possible, making the rest of the group, especially James, stare daggers at him. 

“It’s not no one,” Carlo attempted to save face. “Just… this girl back in uh New Jersey that James’ got the hots for,” he gained confidence with every word of the sentence before adorning a smug smile on his face and patting James yet again on the back. 

“You’re afraid a girl in New Jersey will hear you?” you looked curiously at James but he just stared blankly at you. “So you call him heart-eyes?” you instead turned your attention to his friends and they nodded. “That’s cute, maybe I’ll call you that too.” 

“Sure,” was all a red faced James could get out before you excused yourself to head over to work. 

Pierre was trying very hard to keep a straight face while you walked away and James slapped both Carlo and Jian upside the head. 

“What the hell was that! Could you not have been more obvious, Jian? And Carlo, a girl back in New Jersey? Now she thinks I’m pining for someone else!” 

“On the plus side, maybe she’ll think all your blushing around her is a circulation issue,” Pierre shrugged. 

“You guys are the worst,” James shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, continuing to walk along the path to one of the libraries. 

“No, we just saved your ass,” Carlo caught up with him. “However terribly, but if we didn’t say anything you would have stared at her with your mouth open like a trout.” 

“Carlo does have a point,” Jian agreed, “At least we bought you a little time to get your act together.” 

James sighed, “You guys have too much faith in me.”

“You said that when I started to teach you French and you’ve come a long way with that,” Pierre said. 

“Yeah, sure I went from saying nothing to being able to say Je m'appelle James et je ne parle pas français.” 

“And what a handy sentence that is when you don’t speak French!” Pierre grinned and James couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. 

“Okay, I’ll try and get my act together and ask her out…and learn more French.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Carlo patted his back. “Now let’s go get a drink and relax.” 

“Maybe after we study for our physics midterm?” James nudged his friend and Jian nodded his head in agreement. 

“Fine, I guess if we have to,” Carlo sighed. 

“Not everyone is naturally good at kinematics, Carlo. Take pity on us mere mortals who have to study,” Pierre responded, eliciting a chuckle from his buddies. 

James was quiet as he thought to himself. If he could get a B on this physics test, maybe there was hope for him getting his act together after all.

—

Summer break rolled around faster than James had expected. While Jian went back to Richmond, Pierre over to Quebec City, and Carlo to Chicago, James was left alone in Montreal, working to help pay his tuition for the next year. Being an international student was no joke. 

He would have gone back to New Jersey, but the positions he applied to in Montreal paid more so it wasn’t a hard decision to make. 

His parents would come visit him for some time in July, but for the most part he was alone. 

On late nights, he’d make his way to the McDonald’s in the neighbourhood, not knowing enough French to go anywhere else nearby. At least there, most of them spoke enough English to take his order, and if not it was really easy to point to the menu. 

“It’s already done?” he asked. 

“Give us some credit, hein. We knew you were coming, we had it ready.” 

James chuckled and handed him the money for the order, exchanging it for the bag which he took to a table and sat down. 

As he was pulling out his fries from his bag he heard the chime of the door and looked up curiously to see who was coming at this time of night. 

He stopped what he was doing when he recognized you, watching as you dug through your purse and spoke to the cashier in French. You both laughed about something James couldn’t quite catch and a little while later, after you had paid they handed you a bag and an ice cream cone when James heard you say something about ‘deux cuillères’ taking the utensils they gave you and turing straight towards James’ table, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. 

“I thought you lived in New Jersey,” you said. 

James was still stunned that you had noticed him and couldn’t find the words to speak. 

“Hey, heart-eyes?” you waved your hand in front of his face. “You okay?” 

“Y-Yeah,” he nodded, distracting himself by pulling out his burger from his bag. 

“So why aren’t you in Jersey?” you asked. 

“Work. I got a job here, it paid better.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully while eating some of your fries. “And all your friends?” 

“Back with their families, unfortunately for me,” he nodded. “W-What about you?” 

“Oh, I live here,” you shrugged. “In this neighbourhood actually.” 

“You live here?” he asked. 

“That’s what I said,” you nodded. 

“And so that’s how you know French?” 

“Every kid in Quebec learns French, it’s kind of a non-negotiable,” you shared. “I gather that’s why you’re eating here.” 

“Yeah, Pierre didn’t manage to teach me enough before he left,” he sighed and started to eat his meal. 

“I could teach you if you want. I’m taking a little break this summer so I have some spare time,” you offered. 

“Oh, I don’t want to-,” 

“James, you’re gonna have a shitty summer if you don’t say yes.”

He couldn’t argue with that, it would be nice to communicate more with the people who lived around him. 

“Okay, sure, but I’m warning you, I’m a terrible student.” 

“I used to tutor one of my siblings, trust me it can’t be worse than that,” you laughed. 

You chatted a little more, finishing your meals but not before you handed James a spoon. 

“So this is cuillère then?” he asked. “I-I overheard you talking to Jean.” 

“Yeah, your pronunciation isn’t bad either,” you nodded. “Here.” 

You pushed the ice cream cone between you and began to eat it with the spoon. James had a bit of a sweet tooth and wouldn’t be one to refuse dessert so he began to share the ice cream cone with you. 

“So, are you missing your girl in New Jersey?” you asked and James cursed internally, trying to come up with a lie to tell you. 

“Um, no not really,” he shook his head. “I don’t think we would have worked out anyways.” 

“Oh, so are your friends still calling you heart-eyes?” 

He nodded his head, thinking it was better not to say anything in case he gave himself away. 

“It’s good that you recognized you wouldn’t work out before you asked her out,” you said, “Couple guys wanted to go on dates with me this year, but just didn’t seem like the right fit. Plus, I don’t really think I’m looking for anything like that right now.”

James nodded his head again, silently eating the ice cream. 

“Ever been in love, James?” you asked. 

“That’s a really loaded question to ask someone you cornered in a McDonald’s at 11 P.M.” 

You ignored his response and continued, 

“I haven’t, it seems like such a big thing, how would you even know if it was love?” 

James looked up at the ceiling, silently asking God to not let him say something stupid, 

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first.” 

“So you have been in love,” you confirmed and he shrugged his shoulders. 

“I…I don’t know. Maybe I have.” 

“That’s not a very straightforward answer.” 

“Then maybe I haven’t. I feel like if it was love, you’d figure it out, eventually.” 

You pursed your lips and nodded your head. 

“I hope I get to fall in love,” you smiled softly to yourself. “Seems nice.” 

“Yeah,” James agreed. “It does.” 

—

A few years later… 

“So how did it go?” Jian asked, as they sat around James’ small living room. 

“It…could have been better,” James sucked in some air through his teeth, recalling a recent memory from earlier that afternoon. 

“What the fuck James! You scared the shit out of me! I could have broken the hemocytometer, do you know how much that shit costs?!” 

“Sorry!” James quickly apologized and dropped his books down on the nearest surface to help you clean up, making you look up again at him with disdain. 

“In the BSC? Really? Now we have to resterilize and all the specimens I have in there are as good as compromised.” 

“Shit,” James muttered under his breath, he was usually so much better in the lab, but the second he was with you he became a bumbling mess. “I-I’ll take care of the BSC, I’m so sorry.” 

You sighed and removed your gloves, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“It’s not just boiling water we’re dealing with anymore, James,” you said a little more calmly than before. “You’ve gotta be more careful, okay? I’m not losing my job over this.” 

James nodded his head and went to grab the things to sterilize the biological safety cabinet and grab the new specimen from the fridge. So much for trying to get a job at LSRC to impress you. 

“I was not built to be a researcher,” James shook his head. 

“I mean, it’s not that big of a screw up, you fixed it eventually, didn’t you?” Pierre asked.

“Yeah, but not until after a thorough amount of embarrassment.” 

“I thought girls found clumsy guys endearing,” Carlo commented. 

“Not when the girl is determined to become the leading medical researcher on the continent,” James sighed. “Maybe taking this job was a bad idea. From what I can see she hasn’t even changed her opinion on dating, she hasn’t been with anyone these past three years.” 

“Do you hear that?” Carlo removed his feet from the coffee table and placed them on the ground. “You’ve been in love with her for three years and haven’t done anything about it.” 

“Who said I was in love with her? And sure, maybe I haven’t made a move, but I learnt French!” James tried to defend himself, pointing to Pierre. 

“That’s not as good of a comeback as you think it is,” Pierre shook his head. 

“I know,” James hung his head low and sat on the couch between Pierre and Jian. “We’re gonna graduate in a year and she’s not gonna know I’m in love with her.” 

“So you are in love with her?” Jian looked over at his friend sympathetically. 

James leaned back and used the heels of his palms to cover his eyes. 

“He’s gonna have a meltdown, don’t ask him that,” Pierre shook his head. 

“God, I do love her!” he exclaimed like he was just finding it out for the first time himself. 

“What did I say,” Pierre sighed. 

“Can I make it stop?” James looked over at his friends who all shrugged. “I am so screwed.” 

“This time, I think we agree with you,” Carlo took a sip of his drink. “Good luck, man.” 

James squeezed his eyes shut, he would definitely need it. 

—

The year passed to graduation and James was still sitting on his feelings. It was much too late now to say anything. You’d already been accepted to a graduate program through your work with the LSRC and James had passed his MCAT with flying colours and was on his way to medical school at Columbia. 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was going to miss Montreal, the city had grown on him during his time there and a part of him wished he could stay. 

His friends were also ready for the next stages in their studies, all going to different places across the continent to get their other degrees, with, of course, the promise to stay in touch. 

James didn’t know what the next little bit of his life had in store for him, but he hoped regardless of where he ended up, maybe he’d be able to make up for his missed opportunities. 

The years of medical school, once started, passed faster than James expected them to, and by the end of it, much to his own surprise, he’d also gotten married. 

You were almost all but forgotten in the back of his mind, but time continued to play its games. 

Medical school turned into a specialization in oncology, and a divorce. Then residency and a marriage. Then a second divorce. Then another marriage and more recently a position at a hospital in his hometown, on the board and a well respected oncologist and a few new friends…and a third divorce. 

“House, I’m not asking you to let them all sleep in your apartment, it’s just a dinner for one night, we’ll be out and about for the rest of the time that they’re here,” James sighed. 

“Can’t you just cancel?” House asked. “Divorce seems like a pretty good reason to get out of a reunion.” 

“See, the thing is, I’d rather not be miserable and see my friends instead, and they bought their tickets months ago. Please, House, I’ll do the dishes for a week.” 

“A month,” House said. 

“Two weeks,” James negotiated and House nodded, so they shook on it. 

“Good, now that I’ve done you a favour, you can do me one,” House smiled, but the kind of smile that was conniving, like he had something up his sleeve all along. 

“I paid you in chores for my favour, who says I owe you anything?” 

“Unless you want me to call your friends and cancel for you, you’ll do it,” House continued to walk the hospital’s hallways hobbling with his cane. 

“What is it?” James sighed, catching up with him. 

“We have a patient and he doesn’t speak very good English, but he does speak French. You went to McGill didn’t you? Must have picked up some of the love language.” 

“Unfortunately for me in this case, I did,” he nodded. 

“Perfect, come with me now,” House motioned with his head to the patient’s room and James trailed behind him. 

When he entered the room, House motioned for him to begin speaking. James hadn’t spoken a lot of French since his undergrad so he was definitely rusty, but he supposed it was better than nothing and began to explain that he would be helping with the translation.

“Erm, Bonjour, je suis Dr. Wilson, je vais aider Dr. House avec la traduction.” 

The man looked at James strangely before saying. 

“You’re an anglophone, but you speak French like you’re Quebecois.” 

“I um did my undergraduate in Montreal, I learnt how to speak there,” James responded back in French. 

“Hmm.” 

James could tell this wasn’t going to be fun. Some of the French held quite a bit of hate towards Quebec, who knew why, but his accent definitely wasn’t going to help him in this situation. 

House got James to ask some routine medical history questions and a few things about his symptoms all the while James had to filter out all the insults that were coming his way with regards to his “poor use of language” and “unintelligible accent”. 

When he could finally leave the room, James let out a string of French curses under his breath, still thinking in the other language. 

“House, why can’t you just get a proper translator?” he asked. “I’m terrible at this.” 

“Cuddy said something about making a big purchase recently and being currently unable to do so, especially since you put that you speak French in your resume. Bet you’re regretting that one now.” 

“Yeah,” James nodded his head. “Big time.” 

They began to walk towards the elevator to go to the cafeteria for lunch, when James decided to inquire more about Cuddy’s big purchase. 

“Oh, she said something about money this, medical research that,” House shook his head, “You know I stopped listening the second she wouldn’t give me what I wanted.” 

“She hired a medical researcher,” James said aloud, chewing on the words, “I wonder who she-,” 

His train of thought was cut off when he saw, near the elevator, a face he hadn’t seen since graduation day at McGill. 

Quickly, unable to think of anything else to do, he ran into the administrative area and hid crouched down behind a photocopier. 

House watched his friend curiously before walking over towards him and leaning against the copier asked him if he’d gone insane. 

“No, I just, um, remembered I needed to copy some patient files,” he lied. 

“You don’t have any with you,” House said. 

“I faxed them from my office,” he lied again. 

“I think I need to go get Foreman, clearly you’re having a neurological breakdown,” House said. 

“Can you just stop making it obvious I’m here?!” James exclaimed in a whisper. 

Unfortunately for him, as you were walking past, his harsh whisper made his location obvious, causing you to look down and see his familiar face. 

“Oh my God, heart-eyes, is that you?” you asked with a smile and James pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded. “What are you doing down there?” 

James became speechless and suddenly he was an eighteen-year-old back in his chemistry lab. 

“He’s checking to see if we need more toner,” House said, lying for his friend, but James knew that was all he would get out of him. “Well, that’s my cue to leave, you guys have fun.” 

You reached down and offered James a hand, helping him back into a standing position. 

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” you commented. “Like since we were-,” 

“22,” James filled in and you nodded. 

“Yeah,” you bit your lip before asking him how he had been. 

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I-I’m assuming you’re the medical researcher Cuddy hired?” 

“That would be correct,” you smiled. 

“Why did you choose to work here? I thought you were some big hotshot in Canada?” 

“I am a big hotshot, which is why I wanted to come to a teaching hospital. I thought maybe it would give more opportunities to teach other people what I know. It’s a win-win. I get to do what I want to and the hospital gets grant money from my research,” you explained. “It looks like you got where you wanted to be too, Mr. Oncologist.” 

“Actually it’s Dr. Oncologist,” he joked and you laughed, making his cheeks go red after hearing the sound.

“I missed having you around, James. We should catch up sometime,” you suggested. 

“Yeah sure,” he nodded. “I-I’d love that.” 

You excused yourself, needing to go introduce yourself to a class of medical students, waving goodbye to James, leaving him stuck in his tracks for a few moments before he could gather his senses again and head downstairs for lunch. 

—

“We could have rescheduled if this was too much, man,” Carlo watched James as he brought a large roast to the table for them to eat. 

“See? What did I tell you,” House rolled his eyes and James gave him a disapproving stare. 

“No, I wanted you guys to come, we’ve been planning this for months. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of it,” he assured his friends. “Plus, we know how hard it is to nail down Pierre, I swear you are always travelling. Every time we talk you’re in a different country.” 

“That’s the life of a parasitologist,” he shrugged and helped James by beginning to cut the roast. 

“And Jian, how’s the wife and kids?” 

“They’re good,” Jian smiled. “Mei started first grade in September. Becky and I are both up for promotions at the hospital, so I can’t really complain. Although I think Carlo can.” 

“Seriously it’s not that big of a deal,” Carlo groaned, “Sure yeah, pharmaceuticals are more flashy than biophysics, but that doesn’t mean that my research wasn’t better.” 

“Well if it was better why did William get the award?” James asked and Carlo just flipped him the bird. 

“Didn’t we go to school with him?” Pierre asked. 

“We did?” James raised a brow. 

“Yeah, for a year, from Toronto, huge stoner. Hated being there and did literally no work, but still managed to get honours,” Jian explained. 

“Sounds like my kinda guy,” House commented and James rolled his eyes. 

Just as they continued to dish out dinner, House’s pager went off and he sighed, excusing himself from the table while practically threatening James to leave him some food. 

When House left, James’ friends saw their opening and began their personal line of questioning. 

“Hey, James, are you really okay?” Jian asked. 

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” James asked in return. 

“You’re getting a divorce,” Pierre said. “Seems like a pretty good reason to not be okay.” 

James shook his head, 

“Yeah sure, it’s a shitty situation,” he admitted. “Did I imagine myself at this point in my life with three failed marriages? No, definitely not. Can I do anything to change it? Also no, and right now I really wouldn’t want to change it.” 

“Can we ask what happened?” Carlo queried. 

“She cheated on me, then left me,” James said simply. 

“Forgive me,” Pierre said. “But you seemed a lot more upset when we talked over the phone last week. What changed?” 

James looked down at his plate and cut into his roast, thinking about what Pierre had said. It was true, even earlier today he was sulking about, that was until he ran into you. 

“I swear,” James started, “if you guys make a big deal about this I will murder you all,” he used his knife to point at all of them and they nodded, swearing their silence. “I’ve got heart-eyes again.” 

“You met someone new?” Jian asked and Carlo shook his head. 

“No, he re-met someone old. Tell me, did your hospital recently hire a medical researcher?” 

James nodded his head and the table was about to erupt into a loud chorus of comments when James gave them a look and they all restrained themselves. 

“James, I’m being dead serious when I say this, but you should have married her,” Pierre insisted. “I never saw you look at anyone else the way you looked at her.” 

“Probably explains the three divorces then, doesn’t it? I was still in love with her the whole time,” James sighed. “It’s going to come up eventually, seems like a pretty big indicator that I’m not good at relationships.” 

“Who knows, maybe she won’t care,” Jian offered. 

“What was it like when you saw her again?” Carlo asked, looking for any opportunity to tease his friend. 

“How do you think it was? I could barely talk, I was a nervous wreck, and blushing like crazy,” he shook his head at the thought of it. “I could literally feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I feel like a middle school girl every time I’m near her.”

“Who knows, maybe she still thinks you have circulation issues,” Jian shrugged and the table laughed. 

“What I would give to stay here and watch this play out,” Carlo sighed and leaned back in his seat. 

“Knowing James, you’d have to be here for ten years before he made a move on her,” Pierre raised a brow and James threw a piece of potato at him. 

“If you ever do get the guts to ask her out, call us. We’ve made bets on this,” Carlo added. 

“Real comforting, guys,” James ate a bite of the roast. “I thought this was supposed to be my pity party.” 

“Not anymore,” Jian shook his head. “You’ve got heart-eyes.” 

This time around, James thought maybe he didn’t mind the nickname as much as he used to. 

—

“I would think they’d get you your own office at this point,” James commented as he entered his office, seeing you sitting at his desk, eating a pre-packed lunch. 

“Beats me,” you shrugged and continued to eat. 

“So you’ve decided that invading my office is your next best bet?” 

“Oh hush,” you waved him off with your fork. 

“Well, excuse me for wanting to come to a safe place after being verbally assaulted by House’s patient,” he sat on the opposite side of the desk and leaned back in the chair. 

“Verbally assaulted?” you asked. “By a patient who isn’t even your own?” 

“He doesn’t like the way I speak French,” James rolled his eyes. “I’m translating while they’re treating him since the department used all its money hiring you.” 

“What can I say, hotshots cost a lot of money.” 

“You know, you could do the translation, probably much better than I can,” he noted. 

“I could, but you probably need the practice more than I do, chèri,” you scrunched your nose in a cute mocking way and James could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks yet again. “You still keeping up with that posse of yours?” you asked, changing the subject. 

“Yeah, they all flew in to visit a few days ago, we’re gonna go out tonight,” he said. “Do you…maybe want to join us?” he suggested. 

“I don’t have plans, as long as they’re okay with it I’d love to come,” you smiled. 

“Oh trust me, they will definitely be okay with it.” 

—

Later that night, James was drinking deeply from his glass while he watched his friends stare blankly ahead at you. If he looked anything like they did all those times his words were caught in his throat, then he hoped to spontaneously combust right then and there. 

“Heart-eyes, I thought you said they were okay with me coming?” you leaned over and whispered to him. 

James put down his glass and nodded his head. 

“They are okay with it, right?” 

Snapping out of their daze, the three men nodded their heads and finally began professing assurances that everything was fine. 

“It’s just… you said James invited you?” Jian asked with furrowed bows. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “He mentioned you guys were in town and getting together tonight and asked me if I wanted to join.” 

James bit down on his tongue trying not to say anything, but also gave his friends a look to shut up before they gave anything away. He knew what was running through their minds, they were wondering how the hell he’d gotten the guts to ask you to come, but there was one fundamental difference between tonight and any other time he could have possibly asked you. This wasn’t a date, therefore, there was no pressure. 

“Maybe you could tell them what you’ve been up to since they last saw you?” James suggested. 

“Oh, um, well, I got my master’s degree and doctorate at McGill, both for research in cancer biology-,” 

“Cancer biology?” Pierre interrupted. “I don’t remember you mentioning you were interested in that.” 

“I-I wasn’t initially,” you admitted. “Just after spending more time in the LSRC and a few other irrelevant things I decided it was the best fit for me to focus on.” 

“You and heart-eyes make a pretty good pair then,” Carlo raised his eyebrows suggestively and took a sip of his drink. 

“I guess we do,” you chuckled. “As long as he leaves the research to me. We all know what he’s like in the lab.” 

“I resent that,” James protested only before saying, “but I do deserve it.” 

“It’s a miracle he hasn’t had a medical malpractice suit,” Pierre added. 

You asked the boys about where their various careers had taken them and how they were each doing. The conversation stayed pretty normal until the topic changed to relationships, starting with Jian’s wife and family back in Vancouver and Pierre’s husband who was currently in Australia doing research on some massive insect. 

“What about you Carlo?” you asked. “Anyone special in your life?” 

“Nah,” he waved his hand. 

“What about the mom of the kid who pet sits for you?” Jian asked. 

“That kid charges me per animal, per size. If I were to date his mom he’d probably charge me for dating her too, and I don’t think I can afford his price,” he shook his head and the table laughed. 

“James, you’ve been quiet,” you said. “Nothing to share?” 

James nervously took a sip of his drink and looked over at his friends for help. 

“James hasn’t had the best luck in love,” Pierre settled on. 

“Oh, haven’t found anybody, that’s not a big deal,” you assured him. “I haven’t either.” 

“Well,” Carlo said in a high-pitched voice. “It’s not exactly that he hasn’t found anybody.” 

“So there’s someone-?” 

“I’m divorced,” James blurted. “Three times. Or soon to be three anyway.” 

“Oh,” you paused and tried to think of the right thing to say, but for the moment settled on nothing while Pierre changed the subject. 

After the visit was over, James offered to walk you to your car and you accepted. The walk started off in silence, but you decided to break it. 

“You know, I hope you find the right person eventually,” you said. “It’s unfortunate things didn’t work out three times.” 

“Yeah,” James nodded in agreement. “I-um, do you ever think about that conversation we had, in the McDonald’s by my apartment?” 

“Sometimes I do,” you admitted. 

“Looking back on that, I wonder if we ever really loved each other. If we did this probably wouldn’t have happened. We would have fixed things, worked on ourselves instead of just…giving up.” 

“So I guess you still haven’t fallen in love yet?” you asked, but he stayed silent. “Whoever it is, I’m sure things will find a way to work out for you.”

“The moment may have passed on that,” he said with his hands shoved in his pockets and looking down at the ground. 

“You never know, James. Sometimes life has a funny way of surprising you.” 

—

James watched as his colleagues and a few of the students from the university left the lecture hall while he continued to sit in his seat, watching you walk up towards him. 

“Don’t you have patients or something?” you asked. “You’re at all of my lectures.” 

“Doesn’t it seem appropriate for an oncologist to attend a cancer biology lecture?” he asked as you sat down next to him. 

“I suppose so,” you sighed. “Doesn’t explain why you weren’t taking notes though.” 

James looked down at his empty hands and cursed a little internally. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I don’t mind the staring, it reminds me of school.” 

“You noticed?” he asked. 

“You weren’t very subtle,” you chuckled. 

“Yeah, not one of my strong suits,” he blushed, embarrassed. 

“Do you wanna go grab lunch before your break is over?” you asked and James nodded, standing up and offering you a hand to get out of your seat. 

You went to the cafeteria, running into his friend House who managed to get his food paid for by James, yet again, before leaving to go back up to his office and work on another differential diagnosis with his employees. 

“Did all the guys get back home safe after their trip?” you asked, digging into your food. 

“Carlo and Jian are back home, Pierre went to go be with Ollie in Australia.”

“It must be hard not living near them.” 

James sighed and nodded his head. “It’s a balance. When they’re being annoying, it’s great that they don’t live here and when they’re not, it sucks.” 

“Spoken like a true friend,” you chuckled. 

“What about you? Do you still keep in touch with people from school? During any of your degrees?” 

“Not really,” you shook your head. “After my undergrad I became so laser focused on my school I didn’t pay attention to relationships that much outside of my family. Starting to regret it a bit now.” 

“Kind of hard to have a good conversation with cancer cells,” James said sarcastically and you shook your head. “Do you like it in New Jersey so far?” 

“Not as much as back home,” you admitted, “but it is nice to have a friend here.”

“Yeah, Jersey is…an acquired taste,” he settled on, making you laugh, but your laughter was cut off by the sound of his pager, and he looked down to see what the message was before quickly standing up. “Sorry, I have to-,” 

“Don’t worry,” you assured him. “I’ll pack up your food and bring it to your office.” 

“Thanks,” he nodded and you waved goodbye as he ran off out of the cafeteria and to the oncology floor to go help one of his patients. 

—

James didn’t find himself walking around the campus often, but when he did it was usually because he had to clear his head. With everything that was going on in his life, in addition to the circumstances of this case, he was taking it harder than normal. 

He had left his coat in his office as the hot New Jersey sun was already beating down, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes following his feet as he took his steps forward. 

He didn’t notice you sitting on a bench as he was passing by. Curious as to his state, you stood up and went to meet up with him. 

“Hey James, are you okay?” 

Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts almost instantly. He stopped to look up at you, seeing the concern reflecting in your eyes. 

He took his hands out of his pockets and motioned for you to walk with him. 

“I lost a patient today,” he explained. “He was 11.” 

“Oh, James, I’m so sorry,” you said softly. 

“In med school you learn pretty quickly if you don’t find a way to deal with what you face every day the result is never good,” he said and you noticed him chewing on the inside of his cheek, “but it was just too sunny outside. How could it be sunny on a day like this?” 

You didn’t say anything initially, only intertwining your hand with his and giving it a light squeeze which he returned. 

“You know, I think it’s probably okay, every once in a while, to let yourself mourn your patients. Just like everyone else. You have a uniquely difficult job, James, and no one would hold it against you if you need a minute to adjust.” 

James stopped walking and you followed his lead, only to have him let go of your hand and pull you into a tight hug. You easily wrapped your arms around his neck while his arms were around your waist. 

“You’re a good doctor, James,” you mumbled. “I know, even if you don’t quite believe it right now, you did everything you could to help that young boy and make him more comfortable.” 

You could feel him nod his head, clearly not trusting himself to say anything at the moment. 

Neither of you wanted to let go, but you knew that you both had work to get back to. James had other patients he was responsible for and you had some work to do in one of the hospital labs. 

So silently, hand in hand, you accompanied each other back to the hospital, grateful for each other’s company. 

—

“I swear, if I stay there any longer I’m going to go mad,” James whispered to you under his breath as you walked along the halls of the hospital with him to help him run some tests for a few patients. 

“What was it this time?” you asked, huddling in closer, waiting for him to spill the beans on why living with his best friend was becoming unbearable. 

“He keeps pranking me,” he began to explain and you could see how frustrated he was just by his hand movements. “Last night he thought of the genius idea to put my hand in warm water while I was sleeping and-,” James stopped himself, realizing he’d divulged too much, just as your eyes went wide. 

“Oh my God you didn’t wet the bed did you?” you asked in a chuckle and James quickly covered your mouth saying, 

“Shh! The whole hospital doesn’t need to hear you!” 

You couldn’t hold in your laugh, muffled by James’ hand over your mouth and his cheeks were a bright cherry red. 

Eventually you pulled his hand away and said, 

“You definitely need to get out of there. That’s criminal.” 

“Exactly what I’m saying,” James agreed. 

“Hey, why don’t you come over to my place tonight?” you suggested. “We can watch a movie or something together.” 

“That sounds like exactly what I need right now,” he nodded his head. “What time?” 

“Come over at eight, it’ll give me some time to get snacks and get ready.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he held out his hand and you took it shaking it firmly. 

Later that evening while James was getting ready, House watched him curiously. 

“I still don’t believe that you blowdry your hair,” he said loudly over the sound of the appliance. 

“Believe it or not, I do,” James responded. 

“It just seems so pointless, your hair is messy anyways,” he crossed his arms and James gave him a look. 

“My hair looks fine, yours on the other hand could use a trim and about a billion other things,” James retorted.

“So, is this a date?” House asked, changing the topic. 

“No, it’s not a date,” James shook his head. “It’s an opportunity for me to get away from your insanity.” 

“Are you sure it’s not a date?” he asked. 

“What makes you think it's a date?” he finally gave in and turned around to face his friend, turning off the blow dryer. 

“Well if you asked her if you could come over, probably not a date, but if she offered…” he shrugged his shoulders. 

James shook his head, he didn’t want to allow himself to believe it was true, because if it was, he’d probably overthink things and make a fool of himself. 

“It’s not a date,” he reiterated and House stopped pressing, seeing as his friend would not be reasoned with. 

James finished fixing his hair and grabbed his keys and a coat before stepping out of the door. 

It didn’t take him long to drive to your house and when he knocked at the door he heard shuffling inside before the lock clicked and you opened it. 

“Hey! You got the dress code memo,” you joked, pointing to his McGill sweater and then back at yours. 

“I thought you might like a blast from the past,” he smiled and you invited him inside. 

As he entered he noticed the array of pillows on the couch, blankets draped over arm chairs, and books piled on every surface possible. To top it off, the house was currently only lit by lamps allowing a warm orange hue to fall over the space. It made James’ shoulders relax and he could even feel his nervous heart rate slow. 

“Do you like it?” you asked. “I am by no means an interior decorator, but I tried to make it feel cozy so it’s nice to come back to after long days at work.” 

“I do like it,” James nodded. “A lot. It feels like a home.” 

“Perfect, that’s exactly what I was going for,” you smiled. “You’re the first guest I’ve had here, you know?” 

“Really? No fancy dinner parties with the hospital board?” 

“No, not yet,” you chuckled. “Unfortunately, this guy in the oncology department keeps taking up all my time.”

You grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the couch. 

“But don’t worry, I don’t mind.” 

After he took off his coat, you both sat down next to each other, James extending his hand along the back of the couch and you naturally sat right up next to him, leaning forward to grab the remote and turn on the movie. 

“What did you pick?” James asked. 

“Just some random horror movie,” you said. “I heard it’s really cheesy.” 

“We’ll see about that,” James raised his brows and grabbed the popcorn from the table, putting it in between you both. 

You pressed play once you were both settled and tossed the remote to the side of the couch, curling your legs up and waiting in anticipation for the movie to begin.

It didn’t take long for the horror plot to begin, jumping right into the satanic murders and supernatural deaths. Just as you had predicted, it was cheesy, but that didn’t stop you from being startled whenever something popped up unexpectedly on the screen. 

Both of you were lulled into a false sense of security during what seemed like a quiet part of the movie, then, all of a sudden, the killer jumped into the frame with a loud change in the soundtrack, causing you to shriek and move towards James, also feeling him jump slightly from being startled. 

You both looked up at each other and laughed at the ridiculousness of your collective fright. 

“You’re supposed to be the calm one,” you elbowed him. 

“I know it just-Jesus!” James found himself inadvertently closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around you as if it would give him some protection from what was on the screen. 

You laughed again and leaned closer into his side, patting his leg to assure him it was safe to open his eyes again. 

“You must enjoy torturing me, that’s the only explanation for this,” James looked over at you and you shook your head. 

“Come on, heart-eyes, you think that lowly of me?” 

James couldn’t stop the smile that creeped past his lips, “No, of course not.” 

“Good, that means I still have the upper hand,” you moved your head to look back at the TV, but not before James tickled you in retaliation for your words. 

It took a moment, but you eventually surrendered and moved your focus back to the movie, still feeling a little warm from your laughter. 

You grabbed some of the other candies and snacks from the table, holding a gummy bear up for James to try and he did without so much as a second thought. 

“Still have a sweet tooth I see,” you offered him a different candy which he ate again and nodded. 

“You don’t want to know how many cavities I’ve had.” 

“Here,” you handed him a wrapped treat. “This one’s special from home.” 

“Maple candies,” he smiled. “They don’t make ‘em like they do in Montreal.” 

“They were your favourite, right?” you asked. 

James looked over at you again curiously, “You remembered that?” 

“Of course I did,” you shrugged. “Oh wait, look,” you pointed to the TV before grimacing and covering your eyes, but still peeking through your fingers. “Ew!” 

James just smiled at you, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to kiss you, the thought bringing a warm sensation to his stomach. 

He settled instead on doing what he’d been doing forever: staring at you with heart-eyes. 

—

James tried to fight a yawn as he grabbed one of the many books on the shelves in his office, taking it to his couch and sitting down next to you. 

“You don’t have to do this, James,” you told him. “You probably have to be back tomorrow morning, you should go home and rest.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” he insisted. “You look in here for that article I was telling you about and I’ll start proofreading.” 

There were many papers and files strewn around the couch, you couldn’t remember when you first came in, but James never seemed to mind when you worked in his office instead of your own. 

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I feel like I brought a tornado in here.” 

James looked up from your paper and nodded his head. 

“Now hush and let me read.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckled, opening the medical journal he had handed you, flipping through the contents until you found the article title he had mentioned. 

James had a pen in his hand, scribbling down annotations on the side, correcting a few typos and grammatical errors. 

For the most part, he was able to follow along, but at one point, the words became so incoherent he tapped you to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. 

“What does this say here?” he asked. “I-I don’t know if my eyes just stopped working, but what does stirring in sugar and eggs have to do with this trial treatment?” 

“Oh my God,” you grabbed the paper and looked at it closer. “I must have accidentally copied some of my mom’s cookie recipe on here before changing documents. What in the world is going on with me?” 

Maybe it was the exhaustion settling in or some other things James couldn’t quite pinpoint, but he felt himself letting out a chuckle that grew a little longer, and longer until it was a full blown laugh. 

It was an honest mistake, and arguably not that funny, but you’d be hard pressed to convince him of that in that moment, and instead, seeing the silliness of the situation, you joined in.

Eventually, when the laughter died down, you and James both leaning far back against the couch, he turned to you and apologized. 

“I’m sorry, I should probably read this when I have a bit more sanity.” 

“Don’t be,” you patted his leg. “I can always use a good laugh.” 

With your heads still turned to face each other, you suggested to pause the work and resume it another time, to which James agreed. 

You both continued to sit there in silence, looking over at each other and James caught a glimmer of something in your eyes and had to blink a few times to make sure it was still there. It was a soft look, a little dazed, like you were happily daydreaming about something far off. It took him a moment to realize it, since he had been the one giving that look, he’d never really had a chance to see it for himself. 

You had heart-eyes. 

And more importantly, you had them while you were looking at James. 

With a sudden boost of courage, fuelled by lowered inhibitions, he started by asking, 

“Have I ever told you why my friends call me heart-eyes?” 

You tilted your head a little, following his lead and sitting up straight. 

“Wasn’t it because of that girl you had a crush on that was from here?” 

James opened his mouth and then shut it, shaking his head. 

“There was never a girl from Jersey,” he admitted. 

“Why would they say it was a girl from Jersey if there was…” as you said the sentence you slowed down, the realization dawning on you. 

“All the staring makes a bit more sense now?” he asked. 

You blinked a few times, “I just thought you were really awkward,” you said. 

“I was, but if the staring didn’t give it away the blushing really should have done it,” he chuckled. 

“I thought you had a circulation issue!” you exclaimed and James burst out laughing, of course you did. “God, James, why didn’t you say anything?” 

James shook his head, “I could barely string out a coherent sentence when I was around you. Makes it a little hard to say anything.” 

“Makes me wish I had said something,” you said, feeling your own cheeks heat up at the admission. 

“Y-You would’ve said something?” 

Now it was James’ turn to be surprised. 

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first. That’s what you said to me, but that eventually, if it was love, I’d know it.” 

You reached out and held James’ hands in your own. 

“I should have said something. I could have said something. We could have had so much more-,” 

“James,” you whispered, interrupting him and he stopped. “Shut up and kiss me.” 

James wasn’t going to waste another second, removing his hands from your to instead gently hold your face, bringing you closer to him so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since he was 18 years old. 

The dim light of his desk lamp, the papers crumpled beneath and around you, the way you moved closer and slid into his lap, his hands now on your hips and your fingers snaking through his hair, it all melted into one and if you let yourselves imagine, just a bit, the lamp became a light in the library; the papers became unfinished homework assignments and lab write-ups, and you hadn’t missed a second of the time you could have spent together. 

Your kisses soon turned slow and repetitive and neither of you wanted to pull away, living in the moment like it was your last. 

“When…did you realize…you loved me?” you asked between kisses, moving away from his mouth, instead letting your lips find their way across his jaw and up to his temple. 

“Our last year of school,” he paused your kisses so he could kiss you properly again. “Carlo said something and-,” he shook his head and sighed. “I realized I was going to leave without you ever knowing how I felt and even though eventually I thought maybe I’d stopped loving you and started to love other people…I just kept trying to fill that space that only you fit in.” 

“First year of my master’s for me,” you rested your forehead against his. “Suddenly you weren’t there anymore and I really wished that wasn’t the case.” 

He tilted his head up to meet you in another kiss that was far too easy to melt into. Neither of you had any complaints and you knew you’d never get tired looking into his heart-eyes.

@cuntyvicodin

[strawberriesinbloom]

I deleted these when I had purged my blog, but I still think they're cute lol

So, here's some tickle hcs for the om brothers <3

Ticklish!Lucifer:

Of course, Lucifer isn’t ticklish! He’s the eldest! The mature, sophisticated one! Why would he have a weakness as silly as that? Pfft, that concept is ridiculous to him. Why don’t you just give up now? Spare yourself the embarrassment.

…

:)

SO YEAH, HE’S TICKLISH AND HE H A T E S IT!

Like, he’s not extremely ticklish, especially compared to some of his brothers (*cough* *cough* Mammon *cough*), but he does have some spots that make him go wild, and it kills him a little every day.

But, Lucifer’s leg up is that he is very good at hiding it and maintaining his mature facade. So if anybody wants to tickle him, then they’ll have to be on high alert. Watching and waiting until the perfect time to strike.

...which, unless you’re a certain human exchange student, will practically never happen haha.

Still, if someone wants a death wish, then they’re going to have to go all in.

Simple pokes and prods to his sides or other spots won’t work on him because either A) it doesn’t tickle or B) he’s easily able to hide his reactions. 

If someone tries, he’ll smirk and say something like “That’s supposed to tickle? Pathetic.” And then attack the tickler as punishment lol.

When someone does manage to get their hands on him, his reaction is entirely dependent on the tickler in question.

His brothers? He has no qualms about hurling them across the room and then stringing them up on the ceiling. He tries to come up with some sort of excuse for it, like touching him without permission or whatever, but everyone knows it’s because he’s too embarrassed about almost being tickled lol

If it’s the human, though 👀

Lucifer has a bit of a soft spot for them (and humans are notoriously fragile), so he is a tad more lenient on them than the other people in his life.

That being said, he’d rather die than let anyone tickle him, so if they try, he’ll grab their hands and firmly push them off of him, gently chiding them for acting like his brothers.

But Lucifer’s keener on keeping his dignity above all else, so if they manage to dodge him, he’ll just sit there and take it. He doesn’t want anyone to know that mere tickling is having such an effect on him.

At first, he maintains a poker face, but as the assailant continues to scribble their fingers around his worse spots, you can see by the furrowing of his eyebrows and the slight upturn of the corners of his lips that his composure is breaking.

Once he does actually break, he places his hand over his mouth as if he is physically trying to close it, but that obviously doesn’t work.

His laughter is pretty light at first, almost breathy. He doesn’t really squirm or move too much, too focused on trying not to laugh.

It’s really cute, though!! Like, his smile is all lopsided when he’s giggling and his cheeks are pink and aaah.

But if you really want him to laugh, then aim for his neck or hips. Those are his death spots, and he will die on the spot if he’s tickled there

So obviously, it’s a moral obligation to tickle him in those two areas.. 

And if someone does, he starts laughing SO much harder. It’s not louder, per se, but it’s a lot deeper and actually had a sound instead of some weird quick breathing type thing lol

He’ll start to make more and more attempts to grab the tickler’s hands and get them off of him at this stage because the only thing that can trump Lucifer’s dignity is his desperation lmao.

When he finally escapes, he gets super embarrassed that someone actually saw him in such a vulnerable position.

To distract himself, he’ll immediately retaliate and tickle them back.

Tickler!Lucifer:

Lucifer doesn’t really tickle people for fun or for cute family moments.

I mean, there might be some exceptions, but it’s usually for revenge or maybe as a punishment for his brothers.

And let me tell you: this man is BRUTAL

Like, he knows exactly where his brothers’ worst spots are and he will definitely take advantage of that.

This man lingers in their death spots and takes a lot of enjoyment in watching them writhe and squirm.

He likes to claim that’s the only thing he enjoys about tickling: their looks of agony (ew lol)

Sometimes, though, you can catch a brief look of fondness in his eyes, and maybe, just maybe, he secretly does like cute family moments, after all.

But that fondness is quickly replaced by his usual evil smirk and he’s back to torturing his victims.

He teases people so much, and it’s like he knows exactly what to say to makes them melt.

Lucifer tends to dig deep and harshly into tickle spots to the point where it kinda starts to hurt. :((( Like ow, kick him in the shins or something when he does that

Depending on his victim’s crimes, he can and will tickle them for a long time until they’re like, crying and stuff.

Don’t worry though because a couple of squeezes to his hips will immobilize him pretty quickly hehe >:]

Ticklish!Mammon:

He’s one of the most ticklish demons out of all of his brothers, which is adorable.

But, it also annoys him to no end. Just a couple of scratches and he’s already down for the count, thrashing and wiggling around like that.

If someone tries to tickle him, then they better watch out because he’s a fighter! Mammon will kick, hit, and squirm all to just get away from them.

It’s so cute because no matter where he’s being tickled, he’ll also do this little leg kick. Though, those little kicks may become much harsher if a bad spot’s being targeted.

Mammon also has no resolve to hold out. Like, he’ll immediately start begging and screaming for whoever is tickling him to let him go. 

If one of his brothers decides to have mercy on him and stop tickling, then they’ll very quickly regret it because he’ll most certainly turn the tables and tickle them back. (Unless it’s Lucifer haha.)

But, if it’s his human friend, he might get a little pouty that they stopped lmao.

His laughter is SO loud. And so extra like omg <3 He tosses his head back and CACKLES.

He’ll squeal if someone so much as brushes against his stomach. That spot’s so bad for him.

It embarrasses him a lot, and he tries to deny just how sensitive he is, but everybody already knows, so it’s kind of pointless.

It doesn’t matter either way because the second someone tickles him, he’s back to begging haha.

Teasing will absolutely annihilate him. Don’t comment on how much he’s laughing or how cute he looks, or else he will flush and thrash around harder.

His brothers often tickle him when they feel like he’s being scummy or if he, like, stole something from them again. He’ll kick them when they do, so they have to watch out.

But he doesn’t really mind it when it’s the human!! This man just loves affection from them in general, and might purposefully provoke them into tickling him from time to time. 

He will vehemently deny this if called out, though haha.

Tickler!Mammon:

He’s the resident tickle monster !!! Beware of him!

Mammon often tries to surprise attack his brothers whenever he wants something from them lol

Like…maybe getting Levi to tell him who won the lottery? 

Sometimes, though, he likes to tickle his brothers for no discernable reason. He just feels like it lol.

Either way, he’s a surprisingly good tickler and loves getting into tickle fights because of that.

He’s had a lot of practice with his hands through counting money and stuff, so he definitely puts those fast fingers to work.

When tickling, he does this little rapid-fire type of thing. He doesn’t normally linger on one or two spots for a long time.

Like, he’ll be spidering his fingers across someone’s stomach one moment, and then be in their underarms the next. And before they can really react, he has already moved on to the hips or something like that. 

He adores hearing people laugh under his touch, and he sometimes laughs alongside them if he’s having fun, as well.

Which is a lot of the time.

It’s this really gross, evil laugh though like “Myehehehe!”

He just really likes those rare moments where he actually gets the upper hand. But he kind of goes mad with power lol

Mammon likes shouting “Tickle fight!” and then tackling one of his unfortunate brothers, much to their annoyance. Everyone in the vicinity needs to be careful, though because tickle fights with Mammon tend to drag everyone nearby into them, as well.

Ticklish!Leviathan:

HE’S SO SHY OMGGG

Levi tends to get embarrassed by touching in general, so tickling immediately annihilates him.

-99999. Dead. Game over. No restart.

If anybody is losing a game against him, then all they have to do is poke him a couple of times in the side and boom: 1st place.

He doesn’t even fight back when tickled! No pushing back, kicking, or anything like that. He’ll just curl up into a ball and take it while begging his tickler to stop. 

Levi might try to run away in a last-ditch effort to get the sensations to stop, but the poor guy never manages to get very far.

It’s because he’s too busy trying to cover up his increasingly reddening face with both of his hands. 

He blushes so much. His cheeks? Fiery red. His ears? Also red. His neck? Yeah, you get the idea.

It’s just...gah!! SO BAD! The idea of someone touching him?? Tickling him?? Teasing him?? Torture! It’s all torture!!

Speaking of which, teases are the worst for him! He’ll die on the spot, no joke. The worst ones are when he is being made fun of for just how ticklish he is. He screams and curls deeper into his little ball.

Maybe he thinks that if he managed to scrunch up enough, then perhaps the tickler would lose access to all of his spots and stop tickling him.

That doesn’t work, though, because he is ticklish everywhereeeee.

It’s what makes him such a prime target for his brothers. He’s super easy to rile up and tease. They also love hearing him laugh.

Can you blame them?? Levi’s laugh is absolutely adorable.

His laughter is so giggly and hiccupy. It starts off pretty quiet and subdued, almost as though he’s trying to reign back his reactions.

But as the tickler continues on, he’ll slowly forget that, and he starts laughing so much harder. It gets a little high-pitched and squeaky as he desperately tries to hold back his laughter, but it never works lol

He also starts gasping?? And twitching??? He squirms and wiggles in place so much, and he’s constantly squeaking. 

And his smile!! If someone could manage to get a glimpse behind his hands, they would see that his smile is super wobbly and kinda fiddly. He isn’t really used to smiling in any situation that doesn’t involve anime or gaming, so he’s a little awkward lol

But nobody can deny just how bright his face gets. It’s a little hard to see, but something about his flushed cheeks and eyes pricked with tears has a way of making someone want to tickle him more, much to his detriment.

I don’t think he has any areas that are significantly more ticklish than the others. Maybe his sides? Personally, I think he’s the type of person to be one giant tickle spot haha

Tickler!Leviathan:

Levi doesn’t tickle people too often because he’s shy and thinks touching people is for normies.

But when he does, he’s still as awkward as ever lol

He tends to wiggle his fingers around certain tickle spots, sporadically squeezing them from time to time. He enjoys their reactions whenever he does that.

I think he gets more flustered tickling others (especially MC) than the person actually being tickled. Willingly touching people, in general, does that to him. He gets so red and embarrassed and he just shuts down.

He tries to tease whoever he’s tickling, but he gets flustered doing that, too, so he just ends up sputtering out something incoherent and gives up right away.

I feel like once he gets over his initial awkwardness (or if he’s tickling Mammon), then he’s surprisingly ruthless.

His fingers are really nimble and quick from all his experience on the keyboard, which makes him really skilled at getting into certain spots and making his current victim laugh out loud.

He also likes rapidly poking people with both of his index fingers. It doesn’t require too much physical contact, and he finds it kinda fun.

Ticklish!Satan:

He gets so embarrassed and flustered when someone even hints at the fact that he might be just a little ticklish.

Of course, he vehemently denies it! I mean, he’s Satan, a part of the demon elite! Why would he be--!?

But as much as he attempts to refute it, his blush and adverted gaze give him away. 

So much for being a high-class demon...

He tries to avoid being tickled at all costs. And when Satan senses he’s about to be tickled, he tries to be all casual about it. Like, sir, you are not that slick.

Though, to be honest, he is surprisingly skilled at juuust managing to slip through the fingers of a would-be tickler and escape to safety.

He’s really good at distracting the other party and either booking it or turning the tables and tickling them, instead.

That’s why it’s so much easier to do sneak attacks while he’s busy doing something like reading. The best results come when he’s least expecting it.

However, Satan has one fatal flaw: he absolutely cannot handle ghost tickles.

He’s the type of person to start giggling and inching away when someone even wiggles their fingers in his direction. And he turns all blushy and embarrassed too. It only makes people want to tease him even more.

But when someone actually starts tickling him and skittering their fingers across his skin and !!!

It’s so bad, especially if someone gets to his ribs. Even simple prodding and poking is enough to make him gasp and cackle.

He shakes his head back and forth and laughs out loud.  

His laugh is a little high-pitched with just a hint of squeakiness, and it’s the cutest thing ever. It’s just so bright, happy, and totally not what someone would expect from the Avatar of Wrath.

He also has the biggest smile on his face and his cheeks always get just a little flushed, and it’s really cute.

His reactions are the type that makes a person want to tickle him more, but he gets a little annoyed if they do, especially if he was doing something important beforehand. (So maybe don’t tickle him when he’s reading?) :’(

But that annoyance is just a mask for the utter embarrassment of his own sensitivities haha. 

He does like being tickled, though, just be sure to do it in private because, knowing Satan, he will be plotting his revenge.

Tickler!Satan:

Of course, Satan isn’t the type of person to tickle others too often. It’s way too childish for him, and he has other, better ways of spending his time.

…

AHA!

But that was just a ploy! A trick! 

In actuality, Satan isn’t above tickling others as a prank or as a revenge plot, but nobody really expects him to. It’s usually Mammon or Asmo that likes to randomly tickle people, not Satan…

And that’s exactly how he gets you! That perfect prank is all about the element of surprise, which is why he likes sneaking up on people and attacking them when they least expect it.

Whenever he feels like one of his brothers has wronged him somehow, he sometimes likes to sneak into their room in the middle of the night and tickle them awake.

Ah, yes, the classic “tickle them awake” trick. He loves that one because of how easy it is to do.

It doesn’t work on Belphie since he’s an extremely deep sleeper, so Satan usually finds ways to tickle him while he’s awake.

And he is still trying to figure out a way to get Lucifer giggling without harming himself in the process, but so far no dice. He’ll figure out a way eventually, even if it’s the last thing he’ll do.

His other brothers are fair game, though, and let me say, that man is EVIL.

He likes semi-pinning people down when tickling. He almost always finds a way to pin someone's arms above their head with one hand while he's spidering his other one all across their underarms and torso.

It's awful, and the worst part is that Satan KNOWS. And he will definitely tease them about that.

"Aw, what's wrong? Struggling to defend yourself?” He says as he proceeds to absolutely decimate whoever’s unlucky enough to be his victim.

He’s actually kind of strategic when it comes to tickling. (If strategy is even a thing with this stuff lol)

Satan is the type of person who always knows what a person’s worst spot is by looking at them. And when he’s tickling someone, he saves that spot for last. Instead, he lures them into a false sense of security by getting their less sensitive areas first. And then, when they least expect it, he strikes, attacking them mercilessly.

Even if he claims he’s just getting revenge or pulling a prank, he relishes in his victim’s laughter (especially if it’s MC lol) and secretly loves those moments.

Ticklish!Asmodeus:

He loves getting tickled and isn’t afraid to admit it! But it kind of sucks for him because he’s one of the least ticklish brothers rip :((

BUT!! He’s still pretty ticklish and does have a couple of areas that make him laugh and giggle like crazy. According to Asmo himself, you just have to find the right spot.

(hint hint: it’s his legs, especially his thighs. They make him squeal)

And he’s so loud like gjhksdfjhsfd

Ah, but don’t stop! He’ll get upset and ask for more.

His feet or pretty bad, too, but not as much.

Grab his ankles and go to town on the soles of his feet. He’ll shriek, scream, and make every other sound under the sun. 

He can’t help it!! It tickles sooo bad.

It makes pedicures torture for him, which sucks because they’re basically a requirement for looking the absolute best in his eyes.

Thankfully, he’s actually pretty good at biting his lip and holding back his reactions when he wants to, but a keen observer may be able to catch a sudden jerk or two.

If you want to hear him actually laugh instead of just...screaming, then aim for his upper body! He may not laugh the hardest, but his giggling is to die for <3

Asmo’s laughter is really high-pitched and super sweet with the occasional gasp or squeak sprinkled in there.  

He’s soo squirmy, as well!! Giggly and squirmy?? It’s the best combination, in my opinion.

Depending on where someone’s tickling him (like his stomach), he starts to curl in on himself a little. Not too much to get in the way or anything, but enough to be noticeable. He also tends to bring his legs inward. Kind of like he’s preparing to do a kick but stops halfway...if that even makes sense??

Other than that, he doesn’t really move all that much or make any serious attempt to get away. 

He loves any excuse to get someone’s hands on him~ (Ew, don’t be afraid to kick him, either)

This is kind of why teasing doesn’t really work on him: there’s nothing to be embarrassed about in his eyes.

In fact, Asmo might turn the tides and start teasing his tickler instead...all while being tickled himself lol

“Oh, don’t behehe shy! Come on, tihickle me more over here!” (ew x2)

A great way to get him back is to give a couple of surprise tickles across his thighs. He’ll blush and sputter, and might shut up for a couple of seconds if pinches are also thrown in. 

Flustered Asmo is a rare sight, but that’s what makes it all worth it.

Tickler!Asmodeus

If Asmo loves being tickled, then he loves tickling others even more. It’s to a point where he’s an easy contender for Mammon’s tickle monster spot.

He often likes to sneak up behind his brothers and either pinch their sides or skitter his fingers up and down their ribs, much to their annoyance. 

It sucks double for them, as they can’t get him back because he’ll just enjoy any revenge tickles sprung upon him.

Aw, but Asmo’s so playful and cute. It’s hard to get mad at him for too long.

That being said, his playful side can easily turn into a much more mischievous one at the drop of a hat.

He loves sneaky tickles, especially in situations where his victim is unable to laugh, lest they end up embarrassing themselves. Help the unfortunate soul who is unlucky enough to be seated next to Asmo during one of Diavolo’s or Lucifer’s meetings. 

Beware of pokes and tickles underneath the table where nobody can see. (He especially loves targeting the knees. Something about how they attempt to kick him off can really get him going.)

And, if that unlucky soul loses their composure and bursts into laughter during Diavolo’s super important–don’t disturb it or else Lucifer will punish them for a thousand years– meeting?

That’s none of his business but their own. He has nothing to do with this, he claims, as he holds back a sinister snicker.

He tried tickling Lucifer that same way during a student council meeting once. He swiftly stomped on Asmo’s foot, stopping him in his tracks. Asmo never attempted to do anything like that to Lucifer again.

Still, he’s the only brother brave enough to tickle Lucifer in the first place, and he still tries to sneakily pinch his sides and stuff when Lucifer’s distracted. 

Has Amso succeeded? No. Will he keep trying? Yes...maybe…if his poor foot doesn’t bruise, that is.

Everyone else within Asmo’s vicinity better be careful, though because he will strike when they’re least expecting it.

Asmo usually keeps his nails long and manicured, and he uses that to his advantage when tickling others.

He adores gently scratching his fingernails across people’s bare skin until they’re screaming with laughter.

He’s so skilled at tickling. Anybody unlucky to be caught in his line of sight should run away because once he sets his sights on them, he will attack. 

Ticklish!Beelzebub:

Beel’s probably the least ticklish out of the brothers due to HIS BIG, MEATY MUSC--

Anyway, he’s still pretty ticklish, and he does have a couple of spots that make him giggle and blush.

I think his most ticklish area would be his back–the areas closer to his sides and hips. 

And his laughter when tickled there is so pure omg

It’s so light and airy and so carefree. It’s kinda deep, as well, and it sounds really sweet. :)

His laugh never gets super loud per se, only really staying within the giggling or chuckling range. 

BUT if someone were to sneak up on him and tickle him from behind, then he might let out a high-pitched squeak in surprise. That’s probably the only time when he gets genuinely embarrassed about being ticklish.

He also has this habit of scrunching up his shoulders no matter where he’s getting tickled.

(It’s because he’s trying his hardest not to reflexively kick and punt his tickler across the room… oops)

Despite his rather unfortunate reflexes, Beel does enjoy being tickled. Maybe not to the same extent as Asmo, but he loves the bonding aspect of it and the closeness of it.

He also loves seeing Belphie’s face brighten up when he tickles Beel, so he’s willing to endure it for those cute moments

However, he doesn’t like being tickled when he’s doing something important like eating (it’s hard to swallow when you’re too busy laughing. It’s a tragedy), so it’s important to wait until he’s not doing any of those things, or else he’ll get upset :(

But something that Beel is almost always in the mood for is tickle hugs (when he’s not trying to say something important, that is). He adores them and finds them really cute. <3

If someone were to wrap their arms around him and wiggle their fingers across his back and sides, he’ll melt. Beel starts laughing immediately and leans into the touch. It’s so pure.

He doesn’t even squirm. He just stays there, laughing and snickering the whole time

He also blushes a little when tickled, but teasing is a surefire way to make him turn red, especially the tips of his ears.

Beel’s just so blushy and smiley when he’s being tickled! It’s so cute! :)

Tickler!Beelzebub:

He’s such a sweet and gentle tickler!! 

Beel likes taking one (1) finger and slowly draaaagging it up and down someone’s tickle spots, and it’s somehow worse than just going all-in at times.

But, he can get a bit rougher when he’s feeling a bit more playful!

Sometimes, he softly claws against their sides, stomach, underarms, etc. but he rarely stays in one area. He prefers to tickle multiple spots, so they won’t get too tired.

He also smiles and laughs alongside the person he’s tickling!! He finds tickle fights to be cute, especially when they’re with Belphie. He always loves bonding with his family.

Speaking of Belphie, Beel tickles him the most. Mostly as a gentle way of trying to wake him up. It never works though because Belphie sleeps like a rock. Nothing will ever wake this guy up

But when Belphie is awake 👀 There is no mercy since Belphie is so much more ticklish than him lol

On another note, Beel is so slow when he’s tickling?? Slowly raking his fingers all across a person’s spots…

He does it because he doesn’t want to hurt them, but it literally tickles so bad?? And the anticipation is so much worse?? Sometimes he just wiggles his fingers just above their most sensitive spots, and it’s torture!!

But who can deny just how happy he looks? He loves hearing people’s laughter and he will coo over how cute they are.

It can get a little embarrassing, though haha.

Ticklish!Belphegor:

Belphie isn’t the type of person to necessarily deny being ticklish, but if asked directly, he’ll probably blush and say, “A little…”

But he’s clearly lying because he’s so much more than “a little” ticklish. He’s literally so ticklish. Someone, PLEASE help him. Even his least sensitive spots can make him wiggle around and straight-up cackle!! 

And it’s adorable, as well!! I think his laughter is kind of quiet and low-pitched, but it can get louder and more frantic depending on where’s being tickled.

He’s sensitive all over, so rip. But I think his worst spots would be his neck or maybe his underarms. 

Even pretending to tickle him in those areas makes him blush and scoot away. 

He loves sleepy tickles, as well.

When he’s about to go to sleep, softly tickle his back or stomach, and he starts softly giggling and cuddling up closer until he finally falls asleep.

It’s literally the sweetest thing ever, and omg

When he lays his head in someone’s lap, his neck is completely exposed to any fingers that may wander their way over

And his reactions are absolutely adorable. He starts snorting and squeaking, but he’s usually too sleepy to pull away.

So he just stays there…snorting and giggling.

But if someone were to tease him about that (or tease him in general), then that gives him the resolve to retaliate. 

That’s why teasing doesn’t really seem to have that much of an effect on him. He’s too busy planning his revenge lol

Tickler!Belphegor:

Belphie usually tickles others in retaliation or revenge, but sometimes when he sees an open spot, he will use that to his advantage and strike.

Like Satan, he’s quite partial to tickle pranks himself, and he sometimes works with him to figure out a way to tickle Lucifer without facing any sort of bodily injury.

They haven’t worked out a workable plan, yet, but they can dream <3

Unlike his twin, Belphie is such an evil and mean tickler. Seriously, this man knows no bounds.

He will pounce on his target and just...go mad tickling their most ticklish spots.

And he lingers, too! Once he finds the area that makes someone squeal or make any other sort of embarrassing noise, he will stay in that spot for what feels like an eternity.

He squeezes, pokes, scratches, and does anything under the sun to get under their skin until they’re d y i n g of laughter.

And he’s literally smirking the entire time?? Like, he knows exactly what he’s doing and he relishes it.

He especially likes to tickle Beel and his favorite human, but he’s notably gentler on Beel. It’s kinda sweet watching them getting into tickle fights and having a fun time.

But too often, he gets too caught up in the tickle fight itself, which makes it easy to turn the tables back on him haha.

[dragonsareourfuture]

I Don’t Belong Here — L Lawliet/GN! Reader

Summary: What kind of a story begins with the main character dying? Well, this one. L Lawliet has lived out his days on earth and finds himself in the afterlife. The Good Place, he is told by a neighborhood architect named (Name). One who shows him around his own neighborhood and introduces him to new people. But something doesn’t add up, L notices. Does he really belong in the Good Place?

(I'd advise having knowledge on the TV show "The Good Place" if you wish to understand the majority of this clusterfuck. Although, if you wish to proceed regardless, go right ahead!)

Chapter One: L Lawliet, You Are Dead.

<>

Weclome! Everything Is Fine.

Everything is fine? Is that so?

The last thing L remembers is the ceiling. Just…the ceiling. The fans twirling on the ceiling of the headquarter building and the cross hatching of the tiles. It was peaceful. Was he sleeping? If he had been sleeping, then how did he end up here?

Now, instead of the ceiling, he stares at a wall. Big, green letters stare back at him. “Welcome! Everything Is Fine,” they say. Something inside L is prickling, like something he is forgetting struggling to find its way to his brain. He wants to ponder it, but something about the words splayed out on the wall in front of him is telling him that he doesn’t have to. Everything is fine, after all.

He only manages to tear his eyes away from the bold, sans serif font when the sound of a doorknob turning catches his attention. Huh. Has there always been a door there? If so he hadn’t noticed it, which L thinks is completely absurd as he usually takes mental notes of everything in a room before getting himself seated. But there it is, a door he missed while transfixed on the somehow calming message on the wall, now opening to reveal...a person.

You stand in the doorway, simply smiling.

Now that L’s attention has been drawn away from the mystifying message he can properly analyze his surroundings, and his new visitor. He’s in a rather simple room, nothing but a few plants dotting the perimeter and a couch in the middle, which he is currently sitting on. And he’s sitting normally. Hm. That feels…itchy. L inches a foot onto the couch in his discomfort of sitting with his bottom planted firmly on the cushions with both feet on the ground. Though he hesitates to bring both feet up and hug his knees to his chin as he normally would, because he senses that your sudden presence means he is about to be standing and following you into that mysterious room behind you. Like a doctor calling a patient into an appointment. Except in this case L has no idea what you are, and judging by your suit and comical, colorful bowtie, you are certainly not a doctor.

“L?” you ask, showing your teeth in a kind smile. “Come on in.”

And against his better judgement, he does. L was never the person to simply keep quiet and obey orders in a situation he does not understand. And there certainly is not a whole lot of understanding happening in his brain right now. He should be asking questions. He should be refusing you. He doesn’t know you, you could be leading him to his doom. All this is possible but something about the way you smile at him…like those big, green words, all he reads from you is “Everything Is Fine.”

The room that you lead him into doesn’t look all that much like a death trap, but you can never be sure. It’s a simple office, plants similar to the ones in the waiting room sit in pots in the corners and on the windowsill. The sun shines outside, seeping through the glass and illuminating the desk on the left as you walk in. On it are a few little trinkets, paperweights, and, right in the middle, a manila file folder.

You circle around the desk and settle yourself into the rollaway chair, gesturing to the sleek armchair across from you. “Why don’t you have a seat, hm?”

What is wrong with him right now? You ask him to do something and he just…does? What happened to his spine, other than it bending exponentially thanks to the way he sits?

No matter, there are more important things to think about right now. Like the fact that he might finally be getting some answers.

You open the file in front of you and skim whatever’s written, opening your mouth to say something when your eyes meet his. And then they drift down to his legs. You stare at him curiously with your mouth still agape for a few moments at how his knees are pulled up to his chin, eventually shaking your head and getting back on track.

“My name is (Name), and of course I already know yours.” you say, folding your hands in front of you. “So, how are you, L?”

How should L even answer that?

“I’m…confused, mostly. How are you?”

Your eyes light up, as if you haven’t been asked that in a while. “Oh, well I’m fine. Y’know, busy, but fine! And, yes, I’d assume you’d be confused, everyone in your situation usually is.”

“My situation? What exactly do you mean by that?” Now that L has finally asked one question he can’t seem to stop the ball from rolling “Speaking of you, who are you exactly? Actually, never mind who, but where—“

You hold up a hand. “All of your questions will be answered, I promise. There’s just one thing that you need to know before we tackle any of that.”

“And what is that?”

Your eyebrows lift slightly, elbows digging into the surface of your desk as you lean forward. You look like you’re about to tell him that he’s fired. That his dog died. That some kid took the last of the strawberry shortcake and he’s going to have to settle for carrot cake. What comes out of your mouth is much worse.

“L Lawliet, you are dead.”

…

He’s…?

Yes. Yes, he is. That’s why he doesn’t remember how he got here.

He’s dead. Huh.

L is perfectly content in not saying anything about this new little factoid, but you’re looking at him expectantly, and a little cautiously. Like you either expect him to punch you or burst into tears. L wonders if that fear is based on experience. How many other people have to told this to?

“…Am I, now? That’s a shame.”

You breathe out a sigh, which could be from relief. “Yes, it is. But, not to worry! Because you’ve ended up in the Good Place, L. You’re going to be okay.”

“So it’s called the Good Place?” L brings his thumb to his lips. “A rather simple thing to call it.”

You nod. “Pretty self-explanatory, right? We didn’t want anyone to get confused. There are just so many names for it on earth. Heaven, Valhalla, Nirvana…But it all translates to one place. Here. And you get to be a part of it.”

“That sounds…” Before he can articulate his thoughts, a dilemma from earlier brings itself to the forefront of L’s mind. “Wrong.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My memories are all wrong. Before this, all I can remember is the ceiling and nothing else. If I were to have died, surely I would remember it, yes?”

You take a gulp of air and pull the manila file closer to you. “We take it upon ourselves to erase the memories of death if they are particularly traumatizing or embarrassing. Helps the residents adapt into a peaceful afterlife better, I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, that is perfectly sensible. Although I may ask, what is an example of a death that is not at all traumatizing?”

“Pfft, there hardly is one. You’d be surprised how many memories we have to erase.”

“On the contrary, I am hardly surprised. I’m sure there are plenty of people who cannot accept the nature of their death, let alone the fact that they have died in the first place.”

You sigh, “You’re tellin’ me. Most people come around once I tell them that they’re basically in paradise, but some won’t even listen to me once I break the news. One person tried to convince me I was the dead one! It’s just—oh, um, but that’s hardly the point.”

“Do you ever tell someone how they died if they ask?”

Your expression hardens. “I do, but I like to know that they’re certain before I tell them.”

“I am.”

Exhaling through your nose, you prop the manila folder up like a book, scanning the files inside. “Alright then. Let’s see here…ah, okay. So, unfortunately this one’s pretty traumatizing, it’s not really one of those embarrassing deaths that some people get a kick out of, so brace yourself.” You look over the top of the folder as if checking to see if he’s braced himself. His expression and stance is unwavering, large eyes merely staring back at you patiently. “You were betrayed by your colleague Yagami Light – also known as your adversary Kira – and killed by the Shinigami Rem at his request.”

Oh yeah. That.

The ceiling was not clear in view, no, there was something obstructing L’s view of it. A face, staring down at him as his heart gave out right on the floor. Brown eyes filled with such cocky maliciousness, the upward tilt of lips L only knew to spout lies. It all equated to a side of Yagami Light that L knew existed but had never seen up until his final moments. It all added up to one final conclusion -- Yagami Light was Kira all along. L had been right. But the price of knowing that for certain is that, now, there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I’m..I’m sorry. I never know what to do when I have to tell people…” you try, reaching across the table and planting a hand down in front of him. Not asking to hold his hand, not even expecting a reaction. Just showing that you’re there, and that you’re trying.

“It’s up to them now. I’ve done all that I could. I trust my successors.”

“In catching the murderer Kira, right?” you ask, to which L confirms with a polite utterance of ‘yes’. Obviously you know the answer. “I understand that is one of the many, many cases you’ve worked on during your lifetime.” you scan your eyes quickly down what appears to be a long list in your folder. Do you have every detail of his life in those files? Every case he ever took? Hell, every day in his life? You set the file down flat in front of you and look at him with something L determines is admiration. “You’ve done so much good in your lifetime, L. You’ve worked so hard over the entirety of your life to make sure you left the world a little better than you found it. Now…well, now you can rest.”

You can relax, you tell him. And it seems to simple coming out of your mouth yet somehow it still feels out of reach.

“I can…” Is all L manages to say, his preoccupation coming across as dreamy and wistful. His mind is busy running a mile a minute and his mouth just can’t keep up. L decides to test the words out on his own tongue to see if they still sound foreign, “I can rest now.”

Yeah, no, it still sounds like bullshit.

“Yes! Well, after the tour, of course.”

“Tour?”

You start to stand, straightening your colorful bowtie and circling around your desk to the door which you pull open. You don’t exit right away, though. You stand next to the exit, waiting for L to follow you. While he works on untangling himself from his current position you clarify, “A tour of the neighborhood! Where you’ll spend your afterlife.”

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

A Changed Man...

...

*With nothing to do but idly sit and wait, Celeste waits inside her cell. It’s a stone room, not of low quality, with nothing inside but a wooden chair, a table, and a one way mirror on the wall.

...

*Despite being the enemy, as well as a traitor, the Future Foundation soldiers gave Celeste a deck of cards to play around with. However, she has no one to play with, so she simply plays around with the cards and shuffles them in a variety of different ways.

...?

*She suddenly puts the cards down, gets up out of her seat, and approaches the one-sided mirror.

I know you’re there...

*She speaks through the glass, and as she does, suddenly.

...

...

...

...

Ah. There you are.

How did you know we were here? That glass is one sided, isn’t it?

It is. And if you want me to be honest...I guessed.

Put a deck of cards in my hand, and I somehow become very lucky.

Shame you didn’t have one for the trial then. Not that it would have helped you.

...Nrgh...

*Celeste turns her back to the 4 people on the other side of the glass, raising her nose to the sky. 

So what do you want? Are you here to mock me?

Pfft! I wish...

No. We want answers. Honest one’s, for once. I know you aren’t used to that.

But we’re not leaving until we hear what we want to hear.

You don’t need to fear me not being honest at this point. Once the round is over, the veil of lies lift...slightly at least.

That being said...

*She turns back to them.

If you’re hoping to get any ideas about Zetsubou’s future movements from me, those efforts will be in vain. You’re free to do whatever it is you want to me. But those efforts shall be in vain too.

You sound awfully sure of that. How come?

Because Tsumugi Shirogane isn’t stupid. She accounted for the possibility that I could get caught, and then be put in a situation exactly like this one.

And because of that...let me guess...The information she gave you on her plans was very limited?

It’s not like I needed to know them anyway. My mission was simply to sell the Organization the information they needed from the Future Foundation.

But when did this start?

Oh, that’s a good question...hm...It would have been before I murdered Kawaguchi Isao, so...

In which case, it was 6 months before trial, where Koichi Kizakura was the defendant.

Six months...then you’ve been with the Organization for almost over a year now!?

Indeed. I suppose if you do the math, then that IS indeed the case...however, by that logic...

Since the Organization was first founded around that time, I’ve certainly been in league with them for a while.

But...!

*Hina slams her fist on the glass.

But why!?

...

Why did you do it Celeste!? I still don’t get it!?

Even if you never felt the same way about us as we did you, we still went as far as to bring you back to life after you died in the killing game!? I don’t want to sound condescending, but I thought you’d be more grateful-!

That was YOUR mistake!

!!?

!!?

!!?

...

*Everyone jumps with Celeste’s sudden snap. Except for Kuripa.

And you know Hina? I think I made my reasons for aiding them all too clear at the trial.

Well, you didn’t. So mind repeating?

It’s because I know something that you don’t. Even back when they were a small group, Organization Zetsubou and Tsumugi Shirogane had some very lofty ambitions. And given time, they would have the resources they need.

*Celeste draws closer to the glass.

And once they had everything place...it would unleash something that no one can stop.

Yes...I recall you saying something like that in the trial...

But...what did you mean by that?

...

...I think the real question is why is that your reason for signing up with them.

Did you not catch the part where I said that no one can stop what they’ll unleash upon the world? That includes all you simple-minded fools. 

The Future Foundation, the Kisaragi Foundation. Nothing. Organization Zetsubou will become more powerful than you can ever hope to be. The Despair they bring to the world will crush any Hope you will have.

And your strategy to counteract this wave of despair and death that Zetsubou are supposedly bringing to us...is to HELP them with it!?

Are you familiar with the old saying “If you can’t beat them, join them?”

If you are unable to outdo rivals in some endeavor, you might as well cooperate with them and thereby possibly gain an advantage.

If I’m going to be forced into a worldwide war, between the Future Foundation’s Hope and Organization Zetsubou’s Despair, then I’d prefer to be on the winning side.

...

*Makoto shakes his head.

That, to me, is a sign that you’ve already given in to Despair Celeste. That’s not a victory for you.

...We’re not talking about my victory’s or my losses Makoto Naegi. We’re talking about the fate of the world here.

I’ll be painstakingly clear here...

*Celeste, despite being close to the glass already, moves even closer.

*WHAM!*

!!?

!!?

!!?

!!?

*She scares everyone again as she slams the glass with her fist.

Back during the killing game, I told everyone that I was more than willing to throw every single one of you to the sharks to ensure my survival. I MEANT that, and I mean that now too!

When the world goes to hell and you’re all down in the pits of Despair, struggling to fight back against the overwhelming Despair that consumes every last one of you and brings your life to an end, I will be sitting above, in my castle, looking down upon you and watching...you...suffer...!

C-Castle?

If the whole world has to go to hell for me to finally obtain that life of isolation, luxury and more...then so be it.

I don’t care what happens to you, or anyone, so long as I remain alive...!

You...selfish, arrogant SLAG!

Oh, by all means, throw more of your playground insults at me, you gone-off Granny Smith...! See if it gets to me.

You really...you really didn’t care at all...did you...?

8 years! Almost 8 years, and you’ve never given a damn about the things we’ve done for you!? The way we’ve treated you as a genuine friend!? I trusted you!

And that, Aoi Asahina, is why you are a miserable, useless, pathetic welp of a human being!

...!

There is a tree out there somewhere in this world that is constantly producing oxygen for you! I think you owe it an apology, because it’s work is wasted on you in particular!

Do you know how challenging it’s been to be your aid!? I never thought you’d be able to help me with my Zetsubou endeavors, you’re far too hope-filled for that! Hope oozes through you like jelly does in those donuts you eat like a total glutton!

I can explain my ideals to you as much as you want, but I can’t understand them for you! And of everyone, why would I explain it to the one Branch Chief nobody has ever had faith in.

...

Enough Celeste!

Shut the fuck up! This isn’t about you, unlike everything else in your life Togami.

Nobody respects you Hina, but they respect you enough to talk shit behind your back, you know that, right!? Don’t play hard to get when you’re already so hard to want!

It was a mistake of you to think of me as a friend, or even as a comrade! When all you’ve ever been to me...!

IS A FUCKING MIGRAINE!

...!

*SLAAAM!*

Huh!?

NRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHH!!!

*WHAAAAAMMM!!!!*

AAAAAGH!!!

!!!!!???

!!!!!???

...!

*Without a word of warning, Makoto suddenly goes round to the side, kicks open the door to the cell, storms over, and punches Celeste dead in the face!

...!

...!?

*CRASH!*

UGH!

*CRASH!* *SMASH!* *CRASH!* *CRASH!* *SMASH!*

AAA-Aaaaagh!

Soldier: Sir! Wh-What should we do!?

!!!?

Makoto, wait! Stop-!

!?

...!

*Makoto suddenly grabs the chair in the room, raises it above his head, and starts to beat Celeste to a paste with it! The soldiers in the room are ready to engage, but Byakuya is so shocked, he cannot respond. Hina tries to rush into the room herself to stop Makoto, but Kuripa grabs her tightly by the arm and does not let go.

*CRASH!* *CRASH!* *SMASH!*

KURIPA! LET ME GO!

NO!

!!?

NRGAAGH!

*CLATTER!*

...*cough!* Ngh...

*Makoto finally stops beating Celeste down and tosses the chair aside, staring down at her.

A few broken ribs should get this point across...but if not, don’t think I won’t go all the way with this.

Keh...Kehehaha! Why should I be scared of you Makoto?

Everyone knows that above everyone else, you don’t kill-

AAAAHAAGH!

*Celeste is cut off, as Makoto crushes her knee under his heel.

I’m not...feeling myself...This might seem weird coming out of my mouth, but let me say this...

You could stand to be a little more scared of me...

...!?

After all, your friends at Zetsubou took a large part of my world away from me...

And all I care about now...is getting even...So just remember this...

You’re free to throw whatever insults you want at me. You can say whatever you want about me...

But don’t you dare talk any sort of shit about my friends...Because if I catch word of it? 

*He leans in menacingly...

You won’t be safe...!

...

*The look in Celeste’s eyes is one of utter fear and horror, as Makoto finally releases her. She remains lying in the corner of the room, badly injured from her chair beating.

...

...

...

...

*All eyes are upon Makoto as he leaves the cell and closes the door behind him.

...

I can offer no excuse...but I think it’s best I leave...I’ve overstayed my welcome...

Makoto...!

*Byakuya tries to stop him, but Makoto exaunts without another word.

...

*Kuripa finally lets go of Hina and begins to follow.

Don’t pretend you didn’t notice it you guys.

Boss is a much different man than he was when he left. But because he cares about all of you so much, he’s tried to pretend otherwise.

But as someone who’s been there several times before, that look in his eyes is all too clear...

They’re the eyes of a man who’s lost something dear to him, and is willing to do anything to protect what he still has...

Even kill another person...

...

...

...

*Kuripa nods, and then follows Makoto out.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Money, Money, Money Part 1

Pairing: mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader, slight Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: lots of swearing, silly drunk mobs, mentions of alcoholism, parody, Peter is adult, is this a crack fic??

Words: 2578.

Summary: When Steve finds out somebody has stolen their money, Bucky realizes he has to take his ass off the leather couch in his office, finally.

P.S. This is my first attempt to write humor and I’m sorry in advance for everything I’ve written here 😅

_________________

“BITCH, DID I STUTTER WHEN I SAID TO KEEP THAT SAFE CLOSED AT ALL TIMES?”

Allyson massaged her temples softly and let out a groan: if Mr. Rogers continued to yell like that, he would definitely choke soon. This morning he had been pretending to be the death, vengeance and fury, ready to kick the ass of her immediate superior, James Barnes, who acted like he was deaf, unable to pull himself from the couch where he slept after getting drunk as a fish last night. Oh, poor Bucky. Apparently, he fucked things up again if Mr. Rogers stormed into his office like he was getting chased by a 200-pound dog.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you son of a...” glancing at a pouting man-child with a three-day beard, Steve covered his face with his palm and let out an exasperated sigh, “... respectable woman who would die of shame if she saw you now!”

“Come on, Stevie,” the man yawned, finally moving his huge, muscular body up to sit instead of just laying on the couch since he felt a little guilty Steve was getting all riled up while he just chilled, “why so serious? Yeah, somebody took a bit of cash from the safe, it’s not a big deal.”

Allyson heard everything as if they were speaking right in front of her - Bucky was a real Mr. Cheapo who didn’t want to rent an office with decent walls - and quickly closed her ears, wishing she had taken her earplugs today. Her boss just made a grave mistake, and now both of them were going to pay for it with their eardrums.

“NOT A BIG DEAL? NOT A BIG DEAL, YOU MASSIVE BAG OF DOUCHE?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MONEY WAS THERE, HUH?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THOSE MONEY WERE FOR?!”

Seriously, she considered getting a new job, but these free daily standup shows were both tiring and so fucking funny she was afraid she might wet her seat.

“Oh my fucking God, Bucky, I swear I’ll kill you, I’ll... no, I have a better idea!” Steve gave his best friend a dirty look. “I’ll call your uncle. Yeah, you know which one. He’ll be sooo happy to take you drunk ass to jail and then give your mama a call. I bet she has a cure for both your attitude and alcoholism.”

“You wouldn’t do that!”

Suddenly realizing the danger he was in, Bucky quickly got up, almost falling to the floor but holding on the leather chair in the very last second. When Steve talked about calling his uncle, a chief of police of the neighboring town where his whole family lived, it meant things were going bad. Real bad.

“Bucky, it was the part we were going to invest into Pierce’s casino. I have to take it to him tomorrow morning. TOMORROW FUCKING MORNING, DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU STINKING DRUNK?”

“I’m drunk but not deaf, Steve!”

“Oh my God, I’m driving you to a rehab, go gather your stuff right now!”

Allyson sighed, getting up and proceeding to choose the most beautiful cup to fill it with fresh coffee: when their conflicts escalated to threats, it meant her boss would soon start to sweet-talk, apologizing to his best friend and promising to sober up and get things right. Every time she felt like Mr. Rogers would really do something to Bucky, the guy used his natural charisma and charm and got away with anything by just reminding Steve how he fought for his best friend in the dark alleys when Rogers was a sick, skinny kid. It worked every damn time.

There they were again, talking about same things with Bucky swearing on his mother’s life that he will find the money and bring it back to Steve. Usually it meant the threats were coming to an end, and soon Mr. Rogers would open the door and come out red as a lobster, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. There he would see her with a cup of nice coffee with cream and two spoons of sugar just like he preferred, gladly accepting it and saying nobody understand him but her. Then Allyson would smile compassionately, listen to his small talk before he went out the office, and wait until her grumpy boss would fall out the room, reeking alcohol, and ask her what the fuck had happened yesterday.

After that in a couple of minutes things would finally settle down, and Allyson would have a chance to give a call to her best friend.

_______________________________

Your day couldn’t start better: you had finally received your Amazon order - hooray to the stupid makeup tools you would use, like, once a year - and even watched your favorite Netflix series with a cup of a fragrant coffee with marshmallows because it was Sunday and you were finally free from both work and cleaning the apartment. It felt so nice to just do absolutely nothing, laying on your couch with a piece of pizza in your hand. Seriously, even a workaholic like you had to do it more often.

Your lazy morning was interrupted by Peter, a sweet college student who was getting into troubles more often than a drunk in a local bar: you seriously considered calling him Harry Potter after you found him half-naked with a scratch on his forehead standing in the corridor of your building and holding a broom. To protect himself from bullies, he said, by the look on his face you could tell it was as good as a magic wand against 6"4 ft tall guys, seriously.

Since he rented an apartment with other unlucky nerds who had zero skills how to survive in this cruel world, you ended up nearly baby-sitting Peter, patching him up after he was getting in a fight and lending him some money time after time when he struggled to pay rent or buy food. His parents were elderly people with income below average, but they still did whatever they could to give him an education, so you decided to give the guy a hand.

Now that baby was standing in front of you, lit up like a Christmas tree, with a bouquet of wonderful pink roses, big box of hand-crafted chocolates and a whole bag of what looked like some very fine food, even a bottle of champagne clinking inside.

"Good morning, Fairy Godmother! I came to bring back what I owe you!" His smile was a mile wide when he looked at your face, happy to the point he couldn't stand still, dancing like those Duracell rabbits in the tv ad.

"You're up early, Cinderella."

You yawned, laughing when you saw the guy pouting at the nickname you gave him - tf he expected for calling you Fairy Godmother?

"Don't stand there, come in."

When he actually handed you the flowers and chocolates, giving you a quick peck on the cheek shyly, you froze, finally realizing he brought all this for you. Wait, what? Where the heck did he get so much money to buy that expensive stuff? You thought he was helping his other neighbor who was planning to finally propose to his girlfriend. Perplexed to the point you nearly missed that peck, you blinked at tomato red Peter.

"Please don't tell me you robbed your 90-year-old paralytic professor."

"Why don't you ask if I robbed a bank?" He pouted again, putting the bag on the floor and getting a hundred dollar banknote out of his old leather wallet. "I actually came to thank you for everything you've done for me. And I didn't rob anyone! I got a real job!"

"Real job?" You eyed him curiously. "But don't you already have a job in delivery?"

"Pfft, you can't call it a job. It was getting one nasty smelling pizza from one place to the other while looking miserable."

You barely held your laugh, leaving the bouquet and chocolates on the side table and rubbing guy's back. Poor Peter, nobody was giving him a hand - while you couldn't question people's decision since the guy wasn't the most reliable one, it was still a shame he wasn't treated decently as if all of them weren't young and careless once.

Wait, but who on Earth gave him such a well-paid job all of a sudden? He must have spent hundreds of dollars on the bouquet, chocolates, food and champagne, not even counting those 100 dollars he owed.

Oh God.

"Please don't tell me you're working for some shady business." You looked at him in horror, your hand flying to your mouth. "Peter, is it Tony's band?!"

"Jesus woman, why would I work for some stupid mob." The guy rolled his eyes, and you sighed in relief, not knowing what to except from this trouble on two skinny legs. “I’m telling you, it’s nothing bad! I just have to keep it a secret before I get a contract. Once I figure it out, I’ll explain everything, I swear!”

“Alright, alright, don’t stress over it, I’m not your Ma.” Smirking, you went to take a square glass vase you hadn’t use in ages, filling it with water to drop the bouquet inside. “Let’s celebrate it, then! Woah, careful there, give me that bottle until you drop it on my clean floor, I’ve been scrubbing it for hours yesterday!”

_______________________

Bucky still felt like Steve was making too much of a big deal out of it: obviously, it was Tony who went to him at night when Bucky was already drunk like a monkey, celebrating the birth of Clint’s daughter. Nobody else had the courage to steal from him, Steve’s right hand, an ex-soldier who had a reputation of a man killing with the first punch. Not that Bucky ever killed anybody, actually being a ex-trumpet in an army band...

Anyway, the man was heading over to Stark’s Tower, a motel where he and all his guys lived when his wife Pepper was out of town. Pepper had definitely been out of town lately since Tony didn’t call: when she was coming back, Steve and Tony were having a two-day truce with nobody getting in a fight because it was making Mrs. Stark upset, and when she was upset, both Steve and Tony didn’t risk getting out of their holes to face this enraged blonde woman who could make anyone wet themselves with one her glance. If there were anyone killing with just one punch in the town, it got to be Pepper.

As he got closer in his Cadillac that looked like it went through fire and water before being sold to Bucky, Barnes stared at the motel suspiciously: it was strangely quiet with everyone hiding inside, not a man guarding the motel’s entrance. What the hell happened? Tony loved showing off, pretending he ruled over the town, and he would definitely act like a king after stealing Steve’s and his money. It was unbelievable Bucky so nobody welcoming him with a smirk.

Hoping he didn’t use all that money for emptying a liquor store, Bucky parked the car and went to the motel, dying to have some beer: one heartless blonde boss of his emptied his fridge.

“Oh, more drinking partners returning to continue the fun, huh?”

Bucky froze immediately, staring at Pepper who stood in the doorway with a face of an iron maiden. Jesus fucking Christ. She returned to the city way before Tony told him, and it was clear she found him not in the condition she expected to. While Bucky considered whether it was better to run, Tony’s head appeared somewhere behind his wife, and Barnes saw Tony was as drunk as him, if not even more. He could see a huge blue mark from Pepper’s heavy hand on Stark’s cheek.

“Who’s that, honey?” The man asked innocently, earning an enraged glance from his wife, and Bucky thought he should have run. “Hi, Buck! Come on in, it’s ok if you didn’t bring beer even if I asked twice.”

Oh. Something was going on. Of course, Bucky could rat the man out immediately, telling Pepper he wasn’t drinking with Tony yesterday’s night, but he wasn’t such a heartless bastard - by the look on Stark’s face Barnes could see his sweet blonde wifey would beat poor Tony to death with her Dior handbag.

“Sorry, I blacked out for a couple of hours in my car.” He mumbled, bowing his head in respect. “Pepper, such a pleasure to see you.”

“Come on in, alcoholic.” Her gaze was heavy, and Bucky shivered a little, carefully leaving his shoes near the door and scurrying away to the coach where Tony sat, nervously biting his fingers. “Well, do you wanna tell me something, huh? How many hookers have you brought here yesterday?”

Glancing to Tony and back to Pepper, Barnes suddenly realized his frenemy had been so drunk he had no hecking idea whether somebody really brought hookers to the motel - it was a total taboo, but once they got drunk they could barely control themselves. Once they literally woke up to a Santa Claus singing Jingle Bells in the tub in the middle of June because Tony missed Christmas.

Of course, Stark would never slip up the night before Pepper was coming back to town, but, apparently, she didn’t stay with her mom for as long as she planned, and Tony was royally fucked.

“I’ve asked you a question.”

And now Bucky was, too, if he didn’t think of something quick. Of course, he could tell her the truth, but it meant losing Tony completely, and Barnes didn’t want that. A real mafioso should have at least one strong enemy, right?

“I’m sorry, Pepper, but I don’t think there were any hookers here last night.” He said, carefully choosing words. “You see, first, Tony never allows us to. Second, we’re good Christians. We would never invite some hookers when we celebrated the birth of Clint’s daughter!”

As he got silent, enjoying the effect his words were having on Pepper, Bucky looked at the man sitting to his right, watching Tony’s eyes watering: it was definitely God himself who sent Barnes his way that morning, saving his from near death. Nothing would work better than this excuse. Clint and all Bucky’s guys were so drunk to the point they barely remembered what had happened, and it would be easy to convince them Tony and his gang came to see Barnes for something and ended up staying with all of them.

Besides, there was a nice bonus Bucky could add to make it work even better.

“By the way, Clint named her Natasha. That’s also the name of your mom, right?”

By the look on Tony’s face the man realized he was ready to sing.

“How did he know my mom’s name?” Pepper eyed Steve’s right hand distrustfully, but he could tell she was less irritated.

“Oh, you know, he and his wife couldn’t choose the name, so we started saying whatever names we knew, and Tony mentioned Natasha.”

For a second Bucky thought Stark was going to kiss him through excess of joy.

When he finally left the motel, getting his pack of beer given him by lovely Pepper who changed the anger to mercy, Tony ran out of the house after him, giving him a pat on the shoulder and whispering quietly, “I own you one, brother.”

Bucky sighed. Stark didn’t take the money.

______________

Tags: @finleyjayne​​ @alexakeyloveloki​​ @helenaeisenhower​​ @villanellevi​​ @hurricanerin​​ @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @navegandoaciegas​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites​ @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysbunny​ @soleil-dor​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @dillybuggg​ @literate-lamb​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @jaysayey​ @megzdoodle​ @gotnofucks​ @lux-ravenwolf​ @iheartsebandchris​ @ximebebx​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @sourpatchspinster​

[tpwkjerii]

a ghost’s melody

searching for a quiet place to study, you stumble across a seemingly abandoned library and recital hall. when you discover that you’re not as alone in there as you thought and begin to fall for the mysterious boy playing the piano, you start to wish you believed in ghosts before.

pairing: ghost!pianist!taehyung x reader

warnings: character death (not main, except for tae who’s already a ghost lol), slight angst, some cursing, kinda heated makeout session, sfw (PG-13)!

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 4.3k+

listen to: claire de lune and adagio for strings

a/n: first fanfic on here lol i hope it isn’t trash & pls enjoy loves!! xx

Kim’s Library and Recital Hall

At least that’s what you thought was written on the battered storefront. The building’s exterior was aged — the faded letters were peeling, the glass windows were dusty with years of negligence, the copper door handle was rusted from the elements, and the black-painted wood was chipping at the corners.

The store was a perfect match amongst the other ones along the deserted street. It was so ordinarily fitting that anyone could have easily passed it. However, it happened to be exactly what you were looking for — a quiet place to study and somewhere to potentially spend the night since your roommate decided to let you know at the last minute that her and her boyfriend would be in your shared dorm for the night.

With a small shrug, you moved towards the door and attempted to push it open. After a fourth push (that was more tiring than you’d like to admit), the old door finally creaked open. Surprisingly, dust didn’t meet your eyes as you thought it would, and with a brief inspection of the interior, you noticed that it was oddly clean — a stark contrast from its outer appearance. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that someone was diligently taking care of this place.

Paying it no mind, you moved further into the old store, basking in the silence and mildly soothing aura. The music-themed decorations and portraits of deceased musicians reminded you of your brother, and the quietness was a peaceful contrast from your hectic dorm (and, somehow, your campus library).

Before choosing a desk to work on, you checked your phone for the time.

4:37 PM

Nice, you thought. You should be able to get a few hours of work in while the sun is still up. Hopefully this place still has electricity or candles laying around. You sat down at a large wooden desk close to the storefront and pulled out your textbooks and papers, slowly beginning your studying.

You studied your notes in pure silence for 15 minutes when you heard a noise, but it was too quiet for you to distinctly make out what it was. It sounded like a scuffle, almost as if someone was walking but stopped abruptly. You turned and looked around carefully — maybe this place wasn’t as abandoned as you thought.

After looking around for a few moments and not noticing anything else, you returned to your books, although you paid much more attention to the pepper spray sitting in the pocket of your bag. Once twenty minutes passed, you slightly relaxed and hoped it was just a rodent. With a heavy sigh, you stood up from the desk and stretched, figuring that you could take a break and walk around.

With your phone in hand (and pepper spray in the other), you walked away from the desk and into a random aisle of books. You explored the various titles, noting that you hardly recognized any of them. It didn’t take long for you to realize this store was probably much older than you thought, considering that the most recent titles and portraits were from the late 1800s.

As you explored more aisles, you kept thinking of your brother and how much he would love this place you found. Yoongi always loved music and he never failed to humbly show off his natural talent at it. He once tried to teach you how to play the piano; unfortunately, you were too impatient and annoyed that you didn’t get it right away to ever succeed.

You were wrapped in your thoughts as you aimlessly walked around, now only thinking about how you would love to show your older brother this place. Suddenly, you found yourself at the entrance of a hall, and you stare in awe at the large grand piano sitting at the end. Despite its old age, it looked incredibly taken care of. The black paint was flawless and shined in the low sunlight, not a single chip in sight, and the ivory keys glimmered. You were about to walk towards the enchanting instrument when you heard the floor creak.

You froze in your tracks. That creak did not sound like a mouse, and you definitely didn’t hear anyone else enter this place after you. You tore your gaze away from the piano and turned around, your hand gripping your pepper spray. Weaving through bookshelves towards the table with your belongings, you cautiously looked for the source of the noise. But just as you turn the corner, you hear a gentle melody ring through the air.

Usually, this is the time where you would run. Or, if you were the character in a horror movie, the audience would be screaming at you to leave the store to avoid a tragic death.

But you didn’t want to run. Not because you found potential death exciting or because you wanted to piss off your imaginary viewers. But because the melody that was playing was the same one your brother spent months playing over and over again to perfect. It became so familiar to you in your home that you always associated it with him.

With a rapidly beating heart, you all but ran back to the empty recital hall. The volume increased as you neared the hall, and you held your breath as you finally approached the open doors.

“Yoon-” your whisper was caught in your throat as you made eye contact with a ghostly man. His face was devoid of any emotion, eyebags dark and defined, skin tone ghostly pallor, and eyes sullen and tainted with agony. Yet, he was beautiful. He had round feline eyes, defined jaw and cheekbones, full lips, and dark hair that fell elegantly on his forehead.

You waited as he continued playing the piece, knowing exactly when the end approached due to months of listening to it courtesy of your older brother. As the mystery man hit the last note, he looked back up at you, shock evident in his features.

“You’re still here?” he asked, his deep voice throwing you off guard.

“Y-yes, I am,” you started, finding yourself extremely nervous in his presence. You awkwardly shuffled your feet as you rambled, “I’m so sorry for intruding. I thought this place was completely abandoned, and I had no idea you were here. I’ll get going, so sorry again.”

With that, you turned to run back to your bag and get out. But he moved and grabbed your wrist at an unnaturally fast pace, and you gasped at how cold his fingers were on your warm skin. Goosebumps prickled along your arm as you looked up at him in shock and confusion.

He let go of you with a sheepish apology. “It’s just… it’s been a while since anyone has come by. You don’t have to leave,” he said, hastily adding, “unless you want to, of course! I cannot force you to stay if you do not wish to.”

A soft smile spread at your lips. This man was not nearly as cold as he looked or felt. His emotionless eyes seemed hopeful and his mouth was fixed in a boxy smile. With hope that this was fate of some sort, you told him, “I would love to stay.”

“What’s your name?”

“Me?” the ghostly man pointed to himself, oddly shocked at the question.

You nodded, adding with a small laugh, “I don’t see anyone else here who could answer my question.”

He breathed out a laugh as he answered, “Taehyung. And you?”

“Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

He grinned at the way you said his name, and continued, “What brings you here, Y/N?”

“Ah,” you nodded and propped your arms up on the table you two were sitting at. “Noisy dorm halls, librarians who don’t care about enforcing quiet rules, and a horny roommate. You?”

His smile grew at your brutally honest answer. He hesitated as he answered, “I live here. I take care of everything.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

Your mouth parted. “Are you Kim Taehyung. As in a Kim of Kim’s Library and Recital Hall?” you joked, relieved that he found your reference amusing.

“Yes, I am Kim Taehyung. I’m relieved you find that interesting,” he responded. You grinned at the way he answered, his tone and diction captivatingly formal.

“Well, you’ve done an excellent job maintaining the interior. The outside though… that could use a bit of help,” you admitted honestly, to which he laughed heartily at. “Do you get much business?” you asked cautiously after he stopped laughing.

He shrugged, the same boxy smile still on his face. “Not much, but it’s alright. The silence is peaceful.”

You nodded thoughtfully, sensing there was more to his answer but deciding not to push it. “It is very peaceful here, and if you ever need some help around here, I’ve got more free time than I’d like to admit.”

Taehyung laughed again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll consider it,” he responded genuinely, his voice growing softer for a second. “I’ll have to warn that working here isn’t as great as it may seem. It’s quite boring.”

“Pfft,” you shook your head, “boring? With the piano skills you have? I could spend all day listening to you play while I dust or shit like that.”

He basked in your ability to speak freely and jokingly with him, and at that moment he gathered the courage to ask the question that was lingering on his mind ever since you made eye contact with him.

“Why didn’t you run away when you first saw me?”

Your gaze faltered for a second, but a small smile returned to your face as you answered honestly, “I was going to run, but the piece you were playing reminded me of my brother Yoongi.”

A brief flash of shock passed on his face, luckily unnoticed by you as you continued your story.

“He used to play it so much, and it felt like fate to hear it again in this place,” you paused, looking back up at Taehyung with a sheepish smile and glassy eyes. “You see, as I walked around, I kept on thinking of how much Yoongi would love this place. Books and sheet music and portraits of musicians and silence. It’s just so so perfect for him. But, as much as I want to, I can never show him this place.”

“Why?”

“Yoongi died 3 years ago.”

[you]

goodnight yoongi. sleep well! i know you’ll do great at your performance tomorrow! mom and i will be waiting for you at the end !!

p.s. seokjin is invited to dinner next week ;)

[best/worst brother ever]

goodnight Y/N. thank you :]. treat me to some lamb skewers after?

p.s. you can text him yourself

[you]

of course, anything you want !!

sleep now, it’s already 3 am

p.s. why would i when i have you? :)

[best/worst brother ever]

ok, mom

[you]

>:(

When you turned your phone off to sleep that night, you didn’t realize that would be the last conversation you would ever have with your older brother.

The house was silent when you received the phone call.

Min Yoongi died in an accident on the way to the recital hall. A drunk driver hit his car, killing him and his friend and roommate, Kim Seokjin. The doctors did everything they could, but he suffered from too much blood loss...

You felt empty. Quiet tears escaped you as you sat in the passenger seat while your mother frantically drove to the hospital. The fresh bouquet of flowers you bought early in the morning to congratulate Yoongi on another performance well done was sitting in the backseat, the bright colors mocking your misery. Labored breaths left you as you ran to his hospital room, and you struggled to breathe when you saw his still body on the bed.

The doctor's solemn words drowned in the background as you fell to your knees. Your hands clutched Yoongi’s in hopes that he would reassuringly squeeze them again and wake up to say that it was just an elaborate prank. But he never did.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Taehyung whispered, offering a hand, which you gratefully took.

You shrugged, responding while wiping your wet eyes, “It’s ok. It was 3 years ago, and there’s really nothing to be sorry about. I’m not even sure why I told you.” You spoke honestly, which was odd since you barely knew Taehyung. For some reason, you felt as if you could trust him with anything.

“So what about you?” you asked after a few moments of silence. “Tell me about you. All about Kim Taehyung,” you finished with a gentle smile, your smaller hand still in his larger one.

“Well, I am 25 years old, a pianist as you saw, I grew up on my family’s farm before I moved to the city to study music with my uncle, and I eventually inherited the place we’re currently in,” he answered, his boxy smile growing as he told you more about himself.

“Wow,” you said, shocked at how much he told you despite knowing you for a short period of time. But you technically did the same.

“How did you like growing up on a farm?” you asked curiously, your hand unconsciously tightening your grip on his.

His eyes lit up as he replied, “It was peaceful. I loved the animals and spending time with my grandmother. The village was nice, too. My friends were always a few steps away,” he paused for a moment, “but when I started to play the piano that my uncle gifted me, I found my new passion: music.”

“So you eventually moved to the city to study music?”

He nodded excitedly in confirmation. “It was hard leaving my parents and grandmother,” he added. “But I tried to go back whenever I could.”

“It’s difficult leaving your family,” you agreed, unsure of what to say next. Luckily, Taehyung expertly carried the conversation.

“So Y/N, how old are you?” he asked, his boxy smile not fading for even a second.

You grinned and responded with the same tone he had earlier. “Well, I am 20 years old, I study Literature and Biology at the National University, I grew up in a city with my mom and older brother, and I found this place by complete chance.”

“You’re more interesting than I thought, Y/N,” Taehyung grinned. “And complete chance? What does that mean?”

“Well,” you started, “I was just thinking about how much I hated my roommate and dorm floor, and I somehow stumbled upon this completely deserted street. To be honest, I don’t even know where I am right now. Yet I’m still here talking to you, is that crazy or foolish of me?”

“No.” His left hand reached up to move a strand of hair away from your face. Your breath hitched and body froze as his cool fingers met your warm skin. “It’s not crazy or foolish at all,” he finished.

You melted under his haunting gaze, and you didn’t even notice how the sun had fallen outside and how the lights automatically flickered on.

Five hours.

Or at least it felt like five hours of you and Taehyung simply talking. At this point, you were really hoping he wasn’t planning on murdering you because you honestly have never met a guy this perfect. It seemed like he didn’t have a single flaw!

With each conversation and joking remark, you found yourself moving closer and closer to him until you two were thigh to thigh. Your denim jeans met the expensive material of his trousers, and both of your warm hands were covered by his much colder ones (something you chose to chalk down to iron deficiency or other potential medical conditions).

To merely say you were growing feelings for Taehyung would be an understatement — you were falling in love.

Eventually, he offered to show you around the store, considering you only really looked at the front. His hand around yours, he led you towards the back, where there were less bookshelves and more music-oriented displays. There were encased instruments, very old photos, worn sheet music, and more portraits.

“My uncle loved collecting portraits,” Taehyung said when he caught you staring at one of Jung Hoseok. “He said it was like always having a memory of someone, even if they passed.”

“Your uncle was right. Although I think pictures and a camera may be cheaper,” you teased, unaware of the slightly pained smile on his face. You looked around some more, and your smile fell as your eyes landed on a very familiar-looking portrait.

The curve of his lips, strong jawline, uneven eyelids, defined eyebrows — it was like you were looking directly at him. Your breath hitched as you looked at the inscription below the oil painting.

Kim Taehyung / 1877 - 1902

“Taehyung…” you called. He didn’t respond.

“Taehyung,” you called again, slowly turning around, your eyes meeting his panicked ones. “You… You’re …”

“Dead.”

“What do you mean you’re dead? You’re standing right here! But the portrait. Oh my god. Is this a dream? Have I been dreaming this entire thing? Ghosts aren’t real! Are you a demon? Oh fu -”

“Y/N!” he shouted, his arms wrapping around you to calm you down, his icy skin only further reminding you that a dead man was hugging you.

“You’re so cold! Oh fuck! You’re so cold! I’m so stupid!” you continued panicking, completely unaware of how to deal with this if it really wasn’t a dream.

“Can you please give me a chance to explain?” he asked, his low voice soothing you.

Begrudgingly, you nodded, and melted into his tight grip. It was hard to believe that he was a ghost when you were physically touching him, a complete contradiction of what online conspiracy theories and horror documentaries (and your biology lectures) told you.

“I didn’t lie about anything I told you. I was born in 1877 and I died in 1902. I was poisoned by another musician who grew jealous of my success. I chose to stay in the human realm as a ghost instead of pass on.”

You remained silent, needing a moment to think. Was he telling the truth? But Taehyung didn’t have a reason to lie to you, nor did he have a reason to be honest. And why was he so insistent on explaining himself? Did he have the same feelings as y —

“I’m telling the truth,” he said abruptly, sensing your inner turmoil. “I understand if you do not trust me. It would be hard for anyone living to trust me in this situation, but I want you to know that,” he paused, looking at you with such emotion that it made you want to reach out to him and take all the pain he was feeling away. “That I am being genuine because I care about you the way you care about me.”

You gasped quietly in shock.

“The last living person to enter this place was 60 years ago, and no one ever stayed,” he began sadly. “But then today, you,” he looked down to make eye contact with you, “you came in and you stayed and we talked for hours.”

As much as you wanted to comfort him, you still remained silent.

Taehyung continued, “Even when I was alive, I never encountered anyone who spoke as passionately as you, who was refreshingly honest, or who cared about what I said as much as you do. Y/N, I hope you understand that our time together today has meant the world to me, and I would never betray your trust or presence for anything in the world.

Your eyes teared up at his confession, and you barely managed to whisper, “Today meant a lot to me too.”

Taehyung let out a relieved breath and tightened his hold on you. “I may be a dead man but my feelings for you are true. I hope that you’ll accept me as I am and -”

“Tae-” you attempted to interrupt him, but he cut you off and only tightened the hug.

“And if you do not accept me, I understand,” he finished, his voice strained as he said the last two words.

“Taehyung,” you started, but he interrupted you again.

“Please, if you wish to leave do not say anything else. I fear that I might not be able to take it if you bless me with your voice and presence again just to leave soon after,” he pleaded, his hands gently holding you to his chest as you two still remained in a fond embrace.

“Taehyung,” you started again, feeling his chest tighten as you gently spoke, “Although this is all very hard for me to understand, I do accept you.” He breathed out a sigh of relief. “But,” you said sharply, and he winced at the word, “You need to explain everything for me to truly believe in you. How am I seeing you? How does this all work?”

Begrudgingly, Taehyung released the hug, and looked at you with a cheeky and fond smile. “How are you seeing me? Easy, as a ghost I can choose when I want to be seen,” he paused, “and when I don’t.” As he uttered the last word, his body disappeared in front of your eyes, and a surprised gasp fell from you.

“You! You! What the fuck!” staring as he reappeared, his body once again covering the wall behind him.

He laughed again at your shock, also finding your blunt language endearing. “It’s something all of us ghosts can do,” he said casually while you stood in shock. He continued, “I can also feel sensations like a human when I’m in this form.”

He stepped toward you again, leaving only a few centimeters between your bodies. “For example,” he started, grasping your warm hand and bringing it up to his cheek, “I can feel the warmth of your hands and how they feel on my skin.”

He dropped your hand and bent down, his beautiful face now directly in front of you. For a moment, you two only looked at each other, his strong eyes holding your curious gaze and his cool breath sending a shiver down your body. “And,” he finally said, “I can feel chills as your breath fans across my face.”

He stood fully up again, leaving you both relieved and disappointed. “I can also feel emotions just like I used to when I was alive, although I’m sure you already know that,” he told you, the boxy smile returning to his face. Your heart still recovering from the intense eye contact only a few moments prior, you could only muster a nod in response. “Would you like me to continue?” Taehyung asked.

“No,” you admitted, shocking him as he was ready to explain more.

“No?”

“I believe you, it’s difficult to, but I believe you,” you told him, your voice quiet as you looked up at him fondly. “This is all confusing as fuck, and I really don’t know what the future would look like for us but,” you pause briefly, watching as his smile grew to meet his eyes, “I have feelings for you, and I want to try and make this work.”

Taehyung grinned and wrapped you in a tight hug, the ice cold of his skin no longer sending an unnerving chill down you. He looked down and used his finger to lift your face to look at him. Wordlessly, he closed his eyes and leaned down.

Following his motions, your lips eventually met. Taehyung kissed you with gentle passion, his full lips molding perfectly against yours. His hands moved down to the small of your back, and he pulled you in tighter to deepen the kiss.

This was better than you expected. His cold lips set a fire within you, and the way he moved his lips against yours made you feel as if your chest was going to burst at any second. The moment his lips touched yours, and yours his, you knew that you could never feel anything like it again.

A moment of adrenaline seeped into you as you parted your lips, greedy for more. At this, electricity coursed through you and you felt as if a fire was ignited between you, and as Taehyung deepened the kiss the fire grew, nearly consuming you both whole.

Your lips moved in sync with his for what seemed like an eternity before he broke the kiss, leaving you breathless. He allowed you to catch your breath before he spoke, “I’ve wanted to do that ever since I saw you enter.”

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, a teasing tone evident in your words.

“It would be rude of me to walk up to a beautiful stranger and steal a kiss from them,” he answered, his hands moving to play with your fingers.

“I suppose it would be, but I wouldn’t have minded,” you admitted, making deep eye contact with him once again.

Taehyung smiled at your words, and he waited a moment before saying, “I know someone that I think you would be happy to see again. If you feel comfortable with me, I can take you to him.”

Your eyes widened, and at that moment, you could hear the same melody he was playing earlier coming from somewhere deeper in the hall. In that moment, you remember seeing the book that Yoongi had when he first learned the song, and how the composer was named Kim Taehyung.

A tear rolled down your face as you looked up at Taehyung in shock, his confirming nod causing a choked breath to leave you. Yoongi already found this place.

With the brightest smile you’ve had on your face in years, you gently grasped Taehyung’s hand. “I’ve never felt more comfortable in my entire life.”

[petri808]

O5+Itafushi sick/injured/comfort for Anon 😊 totally canon divergent since we still don’t know a lot about their backgrounds and the series is still on going 🙃 Hurt/Comfort, angst w/happy ending. *Does container manga spoiler aspects if you’re not up to date on it.

It couldn’t be helped... logically, Megumi knew this, but what his brain understood didn’t mean his heart could accept. Yuuji was fated from the beginning to die and he knew— Knew that all the man wanted was to die without regret, and saving their world... well how much more honor could one achieve by fulfilling his grandfather’s dying wish? He should be happy for his friend, content in the knowledge that Yuuji gave them a chance to rebuild a better world without the fear of Ryomen Sukuna ever destroying it. Should be... but he wasn’t.

How many times had Megumi convinced himself they weren’t heroe’s, they were just sorcerers. Spiritual police in a sense, there to protect without a desire for acknowledgement. And that their deaths were both inevitable and not immune to regret. All they could do was their best not to garner too much of it and become the very curses they swore to fight. It was why most jujutsu sorcerers learned from an early age not to care about humanity, or at least lie to themselves that it was a possibility. Such bullshit, really.

So, as he stood there staring down at what remained of his best friend’s body, Megumi couldn’t help the regret bubbling up in his very soul. This was literally and figuratively his fault. Yuuji’s, or rather Sukuna’s exorcism was a combined effort in which he’d participated in. That’s not something you can simply set aside. Yes! Megumi was glad that Sukuna was gone, but so was Yuuji! He didn’t care if his friend had been born into, or chosen to, or somehow been trapped in this fate. It wasn’t fair at all. None of this was fair to any of them, just as his own birth had been an unfortunate creation for revenge.

“Fuck!” Megumi gritted out a barely audible utterance as his nails dug into the clenched fists at his sides, and tears trickled down his face. This wasn’t fair at all!

He shouldn’t even be there. If Gojou sensei knew he’d snuck into the morgue he’d be in trouble. But he didn’t care! They didn’t even let him say goodbye to his friend before carting him off to Dr. Shoko. It was for his own good— pfft, fucking uncaring bastards! Yuuji was the first real person he’d ever connected with who gave him back a sense of the humanity he’d lost along the way. The man made him feel, and now. “Fuck...” Megumi knew he was screwed. His heart had crossed the line. Images of a smiling Yuuji play like a movie behind his closed eyes, bringing a pained smile curling on Megumi’s lips. He’d avoided admitting it to himself, but it was true. He’d fallen for Yuuji Itadori.

It had been an unspoken promise Megumi made to Yuuji, one he’d made deep within his heart the moment it had chosen to cross the line. He’d find a way to sever Sukuna from Yuuji and save his love from the ultimate sacrifice. This promise had never been proclaimed from his own lips, but there was no running from the covenant he’d created in his soul. As Sukuna once explained, certain pacts in their works simply could not be broken.

His knees weakened, crumpling Megumi to the floor in a position of summary execution. All of the emotional walls he’d learned to control, gave way in a flood, sending shadowed curse energy to blanket the room. He didn’t even try to stem the flow of power surging out from his pain. It was entirely selfish to lash out with his regret and anger, but Megumi couldn’t stop... didn’t want to let go. “It’s not fair!” He raged into the still darkness. “I should have saved you! If I was stronger, I could have saved you! But I’m too weak... even now, I can’t...” he hung his head head and closed his eyes, “I can’t even let you die properly because you deserve to live Yuuji...” Because I still need you... Damn the consequences, he’ll take whatever comes his way! “Yuuji!!!”

.....Megumi wasn’t exactly sure what happened, how he ended up passed out on his side, or even how long he was laying there. But something gentle brushed against his face, sweeping his hair aside, and caressing it to stir him awake. His body was groggy from the power drain, eyes barely able to focus in the amber emergency lighting. Whatever it was said nothing, just continued soothing him and coaxing with light prodding to wake up. It felt so nice... Wait! Fuck! Was he caught?! Was it Gojou, Dr. Shoko, someone else?!

His eyes flash open wide as he scrambled to sit up, ready to explain himself, but— “Sukuna?!” Megumi screamed in shock.

“What?!” The naked man stumbled back, looking around in a panic. “Where?! He’s supposed to be dead!”

Megumi adjusted his eyes better, because the form in front of him looked like Yuuji, but with all of the same markings as Sukuna, including the second set of open eyes. Although the voice was different... not exactly Yuuji’s, not Sukuna’s, maybe a mix of both. “Who are you?” He asked, noting that the curse energy flowing from this thing was akin to Sukuna in power and this could be a trick from the God of Curses. Is this what his regret had wrought?!

“It’s me,” the figure stepped forward in confusion, a hand over his chest. “Yuuji. Megumi how could you not know it’s me?”

“Because you look like and feel like Sukuna.”

Yuuji looked down at his body and could see the markings too. But that’s when he also noticed something else in the room. His dead body lying on the operating table. His eyes widen as they whip back to Megumi. “Am I?!” His shaky voice cracked.

It was becoming clear. Megumi nodded. “My regret brought you back as a...”

“Curse...” Yuuji breathed out. He was stunned, and yet somehow not surprised. “Wow... but I don’t look like a normal curse.” He could think and feel, “I’m like Mt. Fuji head?”

“I don’t understand it either. I’m so sorry Yuuji— I just couldn’t let you go.” The tears formed again in Megumi’s eyes. “I’d sworn to myself I’d save you, but I failed miserably and for that... n-now you’re a curse.”

“I should be mad at you.” Yuuji knelt down in front of his friend, smiling. “But I’m not. I know all too well how hard it is to let go of people we care about.”

Megumi shook his head. “You don’t understand. I’m being selfish and that’s wrong! I just... I-I just... I love you too much to let you go.”

“You... love me? Like a friend, friend love or...”

Megumi turned away and if it wasn’t so dark his blushing cheeks would be glaringly obvious. “No, the other kind.”

“Brotherly love?”

For a second there, Megumi had to question his own sanity again for failing in love with an idiot. He ran his hand down his face in a huff. “The I wanna kiss you kind! I know you said you like women with big butts and all, but yeah,” he mumbled, “that’s how I feel about you idiot.” His face was truly on fire by this point, only made more difficult by the fact the man he loved was hanging out for all to see.

“Oh!” Yuuji chuckled and sandwiched Megumi’s face between the palms of his hands. “I’m just messing with you. I knew that for a while now.”

“Wait how?!” But dang if seeing Yuuji’s smile again didn’t just melt him. “I kept it hidden.”

“You did, but Sukuna sensed it in you when your domains overlapped, and he showed me.”

Yuuji leaned forward and brought their lips together in an awkward kiss. It was brief, but for Megumi, it solidified how he felt. That yes, he really did love this man and finally! He got to kiss him!

“There was a time I thought Sukuna had a crush on you actually,” Yuuji chuckled. “But then of course, it turned out he just wanted to use you.”

“So... you’re okay with me liking you?” As he spoke, Megumi pulled his coat off and handed it to Yuuji to cover up.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yuuji smiled and put on the coat. “But what do we do now? Technically I’m not alive, I’m a walking, talking curse.”

“Fuck,” Megumi sighed, his shoulders slumping, “I didn’t exactly think this through, just lost control.”

Yuuji placed a hand on his shoulder, “hey, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Megumi couldn’t hold back any longer. He pulled Yuuji into a tight bear hug as renewed tears pooled in his eyes. “I don’t care what you are, I’m just happy to have you back.”

Yuuji returned the hug. “Me too.”

Suddenly, clapping echoed through the darkened room seconds before the light switch was flipped on, causing Megumi to flinch. Shit! They were caught so quickly!

“I had a feeling this would happen.”

It was Gojou’s voice. Aww crap!

Megumi moved Yuuji and placed himself between the two men. “Leave him alone!”

“Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head Megumi Chan, I’m not gonna exorcise him. I followed you here, so if I’d wanted to stop you, I would have done so sooner.”

“You’re messing with me.” Megumi narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “It’s our job to dispatch curses. Why would you make an exception.”

“Yes, under the old ways, but as you know, those ways were destroyed by us. As long as a curse is not a problem, I don’t care if they exist.” Gojou cocked his head in an evil grin. “Yuuji is now for you, as what Rika is for Okkotsu. I didn’t exorcise Rika, did I?”

“No...”

“Exactly!” He clapped his hands together. “Having powerful special grades on our side is a benefit in my eyes,” Gojou moved his mask to reveal his own, “and these eyes know everything,” he winks before affixing the mask. “Besides, who am I to get in the way of love,” he shrugged.

Megumi rolled his eyes at that last jab, but Yuuji let out a sigh of relief. “Gojou sensei, do you know why I’m like this?” He motioned to his body. “Shouldn’t I be more like Rika? But I can think for myself and talk, and I feel... well, normal.”

“That’s a good question!” Gojou cackled and pointed at Yuuji. “I have no idea!”

“Ugh!” Megumi slaps his forehead. This man never changed.

“But,” Gojou grew serious in an instant, “I can guess there are three factors involved.” He held up one finger, “Number one! You, Yuuji are no ordinary human but created by a curse at birth.” Raising a second finger, “Number two! You and Sukuna were bonded at the instance of death, so you’ve fused with him.” Adding a third finger, “and lastly, number three! When one special grade sorcerer curses another former special grade sorcerer, that amount of curse energy wasn’t going to create a lower lever spirit. So, voila! You were made Yuuji!”

“But is it like I still have control of Sukuna or something?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. Do you still sense him?”

Yuuji paused in thought before shaking his head no.

“It’s likely Sukuna’s soul was fully exorcised, and since Megumi was only thinking of you, it was only you that was brought back. This is just the form your cursed energy has taken. We’ll need to test what powers you’ve retained, but from what I’m sensing, they are on par with Sukuna’s residual energy.”

It’s Megumi who speaks up next. “So, is Yuuji allowed back at school?”

“I’ll allow it, provided your classmates don’t mind. Remember, while you can see him, he’s no longer alive, so normal humans won’t see him anymore. He is just a cursed spirit.”

Megumi and Yuuji looked at each other, then back to their teacher with Yuuji taking hold of Megumi’s hand. “I think they’d get mad if we didn’t return,” Yuuji smiled.

Gojou tipped two fingers as he turned to leave, “then I shall see you in class tomorrow. Try to keep the noise down in your room.” He teased with a cackle.

Megumi flushed red. “He’s so irritating.”

“Yeah, but you gotta admit Gojou sensei’s one of the cool ones.”

“Yeah,” Megumi sighed, but smiled. “Guess we should head back to school too.”

Yuuji squeezed his new boyfriend’s hand and nodded. “I can’t wait to see everyone’s faces when I walk in!”

“Just, no practical jokes like phasing through walls to scare them. We don’t need someone actually trying to exorcise you.”

“Oh, right! I’ll behave.” Without warning, Yuuji then swept Megumi into a bridal carry. “Let’s test my powers! I bet I’m faster than Gojou sensei now!”

“Wait! What are you doing?!”

Yuuji grinned down at Megumi with ruby red eyes glowing. “Trust me.” Cause I’ll kill anyone who dares to hurt you now...

[emerald-amidst-gold]

for anyone you'd like, maybe 2, 17, 19, 30? 👀

YOU! IT'S YOU! The one who hath done me a great service! >:D *sends all the hugs!* So, you wish to hear me ramble some more, do you? Welcome to the fountain that is my fingers then! Let's talk about some children! >:3

2. Is your oc picky about food? What kinds of foods do they like and dislike? What do they consider a comfort or “safe” food?

Can I tell you something about Fane and food? He loves it when he makes himself eat it. The boy literally doesn't eat sometimes because one: his stomach is in constant distress due to vomiting almost every morning (doesn't happen all the time, but enough to cause some damage), and two: he believes he doesn't deserve to enjoy food, so when he does eat and actually finds comfort with it, his appetite disappears. However! That means Fane isn't especially picky about his food! He does have favorites though! I'll list them!

Likes:

Meat (any kind, really, but Fane does enjoy ram and deer meat especially.)

Fruit (mainly apples, has fond memories of them and he likes the CRUNCH.)

Nuts (particulary almonds because they have a sweet after taste and CRUNCH.)

Dried meats (Fane likes the rip and tear action when eating them and it gives himself something to continuously gnaw on.)

Cakes, cookies, pies, etc. (He likes bite sized cakes. Yes, frilly cakes. Blame Solas. He adores peanut butter cookies. Bonus if there's any chocolate on them. And he really, really likes blueberry pie! Again, sweet!)

Dislikes:

Spicy foods of any kind (Snow dragon + spicy foods = DEATH TO EVERYONE WITHIN A FIVE MILE RADIUS. Also, tongue goes bleh and then he can't taste anything for a while.)

Vegetables (Fane eats vegetables sparingly. The boy is a DRAGON, not a rabbit.)

Bitter foods (the exception to this is coffee and dark chocolate which Fane can't live without.)

Impartial to cheese (Fane's okay with cheese, but the tang makes him scrunch up his nose most of the time. Especially Orlesian made cheeses.)

All in all, Fane is pretty plain jane. He eats to survive, and it isn't until later in the story that he learns that he can enjoy food and not be guilty about it.

17. If your oc had a social media page, what would it be like? What would they post about? How much personal information would they feel comfortable posting on it? How often would they update it?

AHAHAH! Fane? Social media?! Honestly, Fane would be that type of person that makes a social media page just to shut up someone else! They'd be like, "You should do this! It's the big thing right now!" Meanwhile, five thousand year old dragon is like, "I don't understand any of this shit. Why is half the words abbreviated?! A ten year old is on here?! This world is fucking trash." Secretly, Fane is a lurker and would just have a page to snoop on other people and silently rag on them. Not directly trolling, but he'd be like, "Solas, come here. These people are fucking ridiculous! Like who the hell thinks it's okay to eat soap?! Where the hell did we go wrong?!" and Solas is just happy Fane's found a hobby that doesn't involve destroying a wall.

So, really, Fane would only have page to have a page. He wouldn't personalize it nor would he put any information besides his name on it. And if anything, Fane would be a meme lord and just post memes all day long. He resonates with them, he thinks. Also, A LOT of dark humor. Fane is...intense. Let's leave it at that. Pfft.

19. How would an enemy describe this oc?

Absolutely terrifying. I mean, do you want a six foot, athletic muscled, white haired, two toned eyed, great sword wielding, and a penchant for kicking elf-dragon bearing down on you? With eyes that seemingly shift and morph into different colors and a snarl from elven lips that made you think there was actually a dragon about to snap your head off? Or a boot that slams into a breastplate so hard that it cracks pure silverite down the middle? Do you want to watch as a pale face that looks dark with battle induced anger and adrenaline twist from an ancient insanity that put most 'madmen' to shame? Do you want to see the blood splatter across that same face, eyes dark and bright all at once as one of your fellows is cleaved in two and all that face does is watch with utter boredom until those two toned eyes land on you? Do you want to feel the sensation of dread, panic, and pure terror as a large frame that shouldn't be able to move with such graceful, fluid movements, but does as it slams you into a wall, once sturdy bricks crumbling to fall upon you as those same soul delving eyes just watch without missing a beat?

Do you want to die with a hand in your chest as a spectral, blue claw splits your chest open, letting you observe and accept that the end is near? No? Well, then, don't dance with the Dragon of the Dread Wolf unless you know the steps. *tips my hat* Good day.

30. Tell a random fact about this oc!

Random fact, random fact...hmm. Ah! Well, just for a little treat, a little tease for late story, I'll share something that'll make for some speculation, but won't give anything away. *clears throat*

Fane has the capacity to harness a portion of an Old God's soul. *smiles pleasantly before walking away*

And there we are! :D Thank you for the ask! Always love them! <3

[pidgeon-widgeon]

HELLO EVERYONE! BENEATH THE CUT IF I DO IT RIGHT WILL BE PART 1 OF MY UNCENSORED REACTIONS TO BAD BATCH EP 1! I HAD TO STOP WATCHING BC IM BUSY BUT I WANTED TO POST THIS MUCH NOW!

Ep. 1:

INTROOOOOOOOOOOOO

DUDE! THATS COOL!

NARRATOR GUY IS THAT YOU?

Oh wait is this b4 order sixty-death?

OBI-WAN? HUSBAND!

What’s up with grievous?

Oh hi Depa!

Y’know I’m not sure why everyone loves Depa so much. I mean she’s cool and all but I haven’t really see her do anything before.

I already like this green dude and he’s only been on screen once.

Her Padawan? I haven’t seen rebels but that’s baby Kanan right?

ZOOM ZOOM BEYOTCH!

Oh hi kid!

Why is his voice so deep lol he looks twelve his voice is deeper than other ppl my age. (I’m not twelve btw that came out wrong.)

“Where are they?” LMAO

“We’re done....” same dude. I love this sassy green clone.

Why are the trees shaking? Pls tell me it’s wrecker.

YAY!

Love Caleb’s look like “yeah I effing told you they were good”

“Hey! Stop that!” Always a fan of battle droid antics.

#real cool guys don’t even look at the explosion

Oooh is that echo’s helmet? Noice. (I still miss fives btw)

I love Depa’s captain. (This isn’t about any moment in particular)

Tech pls pay attention your meeting a Jedi ffs.

Depa pls show me your hair routine.

Obi-Wan mention!

Echo you look like a literal ghost honey pls get some help I’m worried about his health.

Uh oh.

UH OH

NO GREEN CLONE I LIKE YOU.

KANAN NO CRAP I MEAN CALEB WHATEVER YOUR NAME IS

GO DEPA

NO DEPA

pfft are they just like idk wtf is order 66 “Order 66? We don’t know her?”

Go find bby.

Well I know that isn’t happening cause *rebels*

That’s a tall tree boi.

CROSSHAIR? B4 I started this someone called him croissant and called him a jerk. I agree.

Um hunter thanks for being smart

Croissant I don’t like this.

Bby trust them plssss

I mean I get he doesn’t but awwwwww

This is interesting as kark but it also would’ve been cool meeting more Jedi.

Fly little Jedi! Go start your own show!

What planet is this? Pretty lake.

Their ship looks weird and I couldn’t tell you why.

I love both tech and echo for no particular reason.

Tbh I love all of them except croissant.

Did we ever learn what happened to wrecker’s eye? (I miss Wolffe btw)

Can we start a petition for more clones with glorious long hair?

What’s hunter’s mutation? I forget seems like he’s just cool.

Kamino looks like an apple store except instead of buying phones it’s people.

What do they have against regs are we gonna figure that out?

What’s wrong with croissant’s voice?

Go Echo defend the Jedi!

Does wrecker have a stuffed animal awww

Oh “enhanced senses.”

“More machine than man now.” Lol hi Obi-Wan.

(New drinking game take a shot every time i mention Obi-Wan in a show that’s not about him at all.)

Hi palpacreep.

Hey is this the exact audio from ROTS or a re-doing?

Oh hi little kid who are you?

VADER THEME BOIIIIIII

THAT GAVE ME ALL THE SEROTONIN FOR THE DAY THANKS. 🤩

That’s a whole lot of troops.

“The systematic extermination of the Jedi is a big one for me.” Go tech you sassy little nerd tell that stupid croissant!

Hi kid.

Oh she’s a girl? Cool.

Who is she lol.

Oh the kaminoans recruiting humans now? Huh.

TARKIN! (I find it very important that you all that when I typed that it corrected into Tarkington.)

Tarkin you gonna regret that making all the stormtroopers recruits not one of them can [bleep]-ing aim.

Hi clone babies! I wish you weren’t all possessed but hi!

Is that even bread wtf is this food.

Hi Omega!

Aw are her nails painted?

Hey don’t call them the defect squad!

“The sad batch” I shouldn’t be laughing, I swear.

GO GIRL!

Why is this trooper so mean is this bc of order 66 or does this always happen.

“Not again...” PLS ECHO.

Bonk. Whoops echo.

What’s that thingy on Omega’s forehead?

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 5 Part 6

Once more, we delve into the world of Midnight Striga! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

Eda roared, leaping toward the man, the monster, who had just casually murdered a child right in front of her!! Whipping her staff down to crush his skull, she was caught dumb when he casually leaned out of the way, a frost clad fist slamming into her face as she fell forward. A gasp of pain burst out as she was sent sprawling. Luckily, Eda had been in plenty of brawls. Gathering her wits, she tucked into a roll, coming up flat on her feet.

“If you think I’ll go easy on you ‘cause you’re human, you’ve got another thing coming!!” She shouted, eyes glancing at Lily, still prone against the wall. What was up with her, this was an emergency!! She growled, shifting herself to spring between Lily and the goons following that monster.

“Go... easy... on me? Pfft HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!” The bastard laughed, actually laughed!, at Eda’s claim, as if the idea that she could beat him was so utterly ridiculous it deserved nothing but ridicule. The fact that his goons echoed him was like rubbing salt in the wound. “That- That was truly amusing!! In exchange for that wonderful jest, allow me to introduce myself.” He bowed, a mocking leer stretched across his face. “I am Rudolph Cranwin, practitioner of the most noble art of Frost Magic, not that I ever really cared about the alleged nobility of it; twas but another tool for me to kill with, nothing more. I look forward to seeing how long I can drag out your demise!!” He said cheerfully, as if her death would be the highlight of his day.

‘To this piece of shit, it might very well be.’ Eda bitterly thought to herself. Her thoughts were cut off by his next words.

“However,” Rudolph mused, “This crowd truly is far too large. Better to thin it out a bit before I let my precious brethren have their fun.” He raised his hand, a cold wind building into a ball in his palm. Eyes widening in shocked comprehension, Eda lunged forward, a massive ball of flames building along Owlbert. She had to get there in time, she needed to! If she didn’t… Rudolph gave her a mocking smile. “Too late, Owl Lady. Winter Spite.” With those two words, the ball exploded in all directions. A huge burst of extreme cold, so deep that it effortlessly extinguished Eda’s building spell, ripped through the stadium. In an instant, the entire place was coated in frost. Just from what she could see on the ground, Eda saw several Demons and Witches in the crowd frozen in place, ice and frost coating their bodies; from the few she could clearly see, at minimum twenty had died, a quarter of which were children. The smallest she could see looked to be about five. As if some signal had gone off, the hoard of Mages lurking behind Rudolph burst forth, screaming in bloody rage, sickening grins coating their faces, spells primed to rip and tear.

“Tree Shot!” “Big Head Blast!” “Sword Beam!” “Wind Cleave!”

Eda braced herself for the attacks; a tree root tore out of the ground, ripping across Eda’s ribs, a spell shaped like a giant head rocketed past her, a beam of light shaped like a blade cut into the stadium, and slashes of winds tore at the bystanders. And more. So many more. They weren’t all incredibly powerful, but they all had something in common; the palpable desire to hurt leaked out of each and every one. Bearing her fangs, Eda whirled around, launching a wave of magic upwards, cutting off as many spells as she could. Her quick timing was used against her, however, when a blast of cold smashed against her back, sending her flying.

“Ah, ah, ah! No interfering with the games, Owl Lady!” Rudolph mockingly chided. She turned her head towards him, eyes burning with hate. He merely grinned. “If the crowd wishes to live, they must defend themselves, or have one of their own act as a champion! You, and your sister I suppose, are my prey.” Rushing into her guard, his palm glowed. “Winter Punt.” A burst of frigid air formed underneath her gut, angled upward, and as it released, Eda choked on her own air as it drove her into the sky.

What was with this guy!? She had decimated Lily earlier, and while she was feeling some of the effects of pushing herself that hard, that quickly, she shouldn’t be this hampered. She sighed, freezing up as she saw her breath, as if she was in the middle of winter. She looked down, and saw her limbs coated in patches of frost, weighing her down, slowing her reactions, and who knows what else. She genuinely didn’t even feel the cold, not really, but her body was acting as if she was naked in a blizzard!!

Rudolph smirked. “I see you’ve noticed.” He chuckled, slowly stalking towards the Witch and her prone sibling. “Yes, a fun little aspect of my magic is that it clings to the body of those it hits, slowing them, filling them with cold, stilling the flow of magic. The longer our fight goes on, the slower, weaker, and more feeble you will become.” He cocked his head, a look of mockingly fake sympathy playing across his features. “Oh, how tragic, to be cut down so short.” He cackled, an uproarious sound that resounded through the arena.

“Bastard.” Eda bit out, trying and failing to flake the frost off her limbs. “If I wasn’t dealing with this, he’d be flatter than paper!!” She glanced back at her sister, still stuck in that pose from where she had dropped, dead to the world, tears pooling at her feet. ‘What’s up with you, Lily? We don’t have time for this! ...Please, whatever’s going on, I’ll help you, but you have to snap out of it!’

Luz growled as she and the others passed by yet another corpse, this one bearing the distinctive signs of Retic’s harvesting; the chest ripped open, organs carefully partitioned and severed from the surrounding tissue, and the corpse tossed aside like a rag doll, whatever body parts he didn’t take flopping uselessly. The others stoically pointed forward, steadfastly ignoring the gore and death surrounding them; they knew that if they stopped, they wouldn’t continue. But with each corpse, each tragedy they passed, the burning rage built up within them.

“So…” Willow drawled, trying to distract them from the horrors surrounding them. “You mentioned you were a member of this group. What was that like?” She instantly felt like kicking herself, but it was the only thing she could think of off the top of her head.

Luz snorted, but decided to answer; it would come out eventually. “I wasn’t a member of the Black Dog Squad specifically, but I often got saddled to them; they provided a big, bloody distraction, I completed the objective, whether it was stealing a priceless relic, assassinating an enemy, or just setting the pieces for something bigger in motion, I got it done. I hated every second of it.” It was truly the most painful chapter of her life, bar nothing.

“If you hated it, why did you join?” Amity stated more than asked. Truthfully, Amity cringed at the accusatory note in her voice; all of this pain was like nothing she had experienced before. The fact that the girl in front of her, that snarky, selfless, free-spirited girl had been in any way connected to a group capable of this? It was jarring. She had to know why.

Luz gave a small chuckle, the kind of empty, hollow ache that only came from someone trying to humor the most tragic and heartbreaking of requests. “I didn’t exactly want to join. Suffice to say, I entered Oroboros’ field of vision when I interfered in a few of their operations, not that I knew it at the time. They ended up deciding to pay me a visit. The reason? Join them, or someone will die.”

Gus cocked his head in perplexedness, deciding to ask what he felt they all were thinking. “Well, you didn’t seem to have a problem sacrificing yourself earlier.” He hoped he didn’t sound accusing, but it really was confusing to him.

Luz snorted, morbidly amused. “I never said I was the one being threatened with death.” She calmly replied, causing the others to pause for a second. Luz continued, nonchalant. “Yeah, whenever Oroboros decides it wants someone in its ranks, but they have a few too many morals, they take a hostage, someone that person cares about dearly.” The others felt a sinking feeling at Luz’s words, as she rambled on. “Whenever the recruit talks back, their hostage gets beaten. Whenever they fail, their hostage has a limb broken. Whenever they succeed, the hostage gets a wonderful meal, after having been deprived of all but the bare minimum of food and water needed to keep them alive during the extent of the mission of course. Every aspect of an Objectionary Recruit’s time with Oroboros, someone like myself, is intertwined with the health and safety of their hostage. If the Recruit dies, so does the hostage.” She finished, walking on.

The others exchanged alarmed glances, before Willow spoke up, voice loaded with uncertainty. “Then… did you leave your hostage behind?” She didn’t think Luz had, none of them did, but the only other alternative…

“HAHA!!” Luz cackled, as if what she asked was funny. “No. No I didn’t. They begged me to leave, to save myself, to do the right thing. But I didn’t! I stayed. I killed, and stole, and ruined countless lives, for the life of someone dear to me. But, ultimately, it was for nothing. A guard, one who would’ve been a perfect fit for the Black Dogs if it weren’t for his lack of magical training, decided he wanted to have some fun. My hostage took exception to that. An hour later, their bodies were found. The guard had been strangled with his own belt… my hostage had a knife slid into her liver.” She turned her head towards the others, an almost beatific look on her face. “It’s hard to threaten someone with a hostage when they’re dead, afterall.” And then, Luz laughed, the broken, empty laugh of someone who didn’t know how to find any other way to make it stop hurting.

And so the group moved onward in silence, the Witchlings carefully ignoring the splotches of tears that followed behind them; they didn’t want to tell Luz she’d been crying ever since she started talking.

Boscha growled, hastily ducking under another clumsy swing from the disgusting pile of fat in front of her. With a roar, she leapt into the air, an axe kick launched for the fat thing’s head, a curved blade of bloody flames trailing in its wake. She yelped when he caught her kick, slamming her into the ground with a painful Crack! Cursing, she bobbed under another lunge, slamming a burning fist into his stomach, something that prompted a horrific squeal from the disgusting beast.

His smile dimmed, Fatso charged Boscha with a roar, his mouth distending into the massive chasm of flesh he used to swallow his foes. Screaming in challenge, Boscha belted out a burst of flames, gushing from her mouth; it was an honestly surreal experience to be literally breathing fire!! Fatso squealed, flailing back from the flames that avoided his colossal mouth. Boscha smirked. ‘So I just have to keep him from eating my attacks, eh?’

“Try and eat this, you fat fuck!” She shouted, unleashing a wave of flames. Even if he ate some of it, the rest would scorch him badly, something Fatso was apparently smart enough to realize. With a shocking level of agility and strength, he hurled himself into the air, beaming in childish delight. Out of the line of fire, he opened his maw, inhaling with all he had; the massive wave of flames was sucked into his gut. Boscha cursed. Why wasn’t this working!? Her flames, her damnable flames, the one thing she could reliably use, were worthless against this creep!! Whispers started creeping in, the sound of screams building in her head. She shook it off as best she could; she knew trying to fend it off was temporary, but she couldn’t afford to be distracted.

“Oooooohhh you’re a funny one! IIiiiiiiii’llll have lots of fun tenderizing you!” Fatso cheered, rushing up to Boscha, slamming his corpulent fists into her legs, a scream of agony ripping out of her throat; he had definitely snapped a bone or two. Before she could move, he gripped her by the skull, violently slamming her against the stone. “Iiiiii’mmmm gonna have so much fun with you, and when you get all nice and tender, I’ll get to eat you all up! Wooooonnnnn’ttttt that be fun!?” He kicked her in the stomach, her lunch spilling out in response. “Aaaaaawwwww, you lost all that food! Tttthhhhaaaaattt’ssss no good! Nooooowwwwww you won’t taste as yummy when you get in my tummy!” He whined, hurling her away in annoyance. He pursed his lips, placing a pudgy finger on them. “HHHhhhmmmmm maybe I’ll have better luck if I try finding that scarf girl?”

Boscha’s eyes snapped open. Shakily rising to her feet, she screamed. “YOU KEEP AWAY FROM HER!!” With a roar, she rushed him, only for him to dismissively backhand her away, not even bothering to look at her.

“YYyyyoooouuu’rrrrrreee no fun anymore.” He said without a glance, waddling off. “Aaaaaaalllllll you can do is throw that stupid fire. Nnnnoooooo fun, no fun at all eating the same stupid trick.”

“Fun?” Boscha whispered, eyes widening in incredulousness. “You think this is supposed to be FUN!?” She half-screamed. Tears started building in her eyes. “HOW IS KILLING US, ATTACKING US WHEN WE’VE DONE NOTHING TO YOU, SUPPOSED TO BE FUN!?!?!?”

“Hhhuuuuuuuhhhh? Wwwwwhhhhaaatttt kinda stupid question is that? IIiiiiiittttt’ssss fun because I’m strong, and you’re weak.” He said, as if saying that the sky was red, or that plants were purple. “Tttthhhheeee boss said that, because I’m part of Oroboros, I can do whatever I want, eat anything I want, anyone I want, because I’m strong and they can’t stop me, so whatever I do is fun, because I say it’s fun!!” He cheerfully explained. “Eeeeaaaaatttttiiinnnnnggg is so much fun, I could eat forever!!!! BBbbuuuuuuttttt when I eat people-meat, it’s even more fun, because they give the bestest screams when they go in my tummy!!” He patted his gut for emphasis.

Boscha’s blood pounded in her ears. Strong? This… fat piece of TRASH thought he was strong!? No… he didn’t know the meaning of the word. She had seen real strength. He might’ve been powerful, but he wasn’t strong. If he faced someone with real strength, he’d be crying like a bitch. Boscha pulled herself to her feet, utterly indifferent to her previous pain, nothing but burning rage flowing through her veins at the moment. Flames sparked, sputtered… and raged. Boscha wasn’t sure if she was fully conscious at the moment, but she didn’t care. This bastard had threatened one of the few things in this life she actually cared about still, and he had the balls to pretend he knew what strength was, and that he was strong?

Flames pooled at her feet. In a burst of heat, Boscha zipped to Fatso’s side, fist cocked back. With a roar filled with the rage of a wild animal, Boscha slammed her fist so hard against his gelatinous face, she would swear later that she felt his bones bend around her fist. “You think you’re strong?” She asked, the deathly calm doing nothing to hide the burning hate hidden within.

As Fatso rocketed back, eyes snapped wide open in disbelief, Boscha rushed in, flame-clad knee slamming into his gut, watching in grim amusement as he coughed up a mix of blood and miscellaneous bits, whether the blood was his own or not was up for debate. “You don’t know anything about strength.” She ducked under his clumsy swing, landing a clean blow to the throat, prompting him to choke. “Strength isn’t about lording what power you have above someone else.” She slammed across his face, knuckles landing a solid hit to his eyes. “It isn’t acting as if you’re above the same rules and laws everyone has to follow.”

He grunted, and roared, swinging both arms down towards her skull. She leaned back, letting the attack whiff by, slamming home a kick to his chin. “It’s about making a difference.” She caught his next punch, her eyes narrowing at the panic in his gaze. “It’s about looking after what’s precious to you.” She twisted his arm to the side, prompting a squeal of pain. His eyes furrowed, before he lunged forth, attempting to swallow her, only for her to catch his face with her free hand, fingers covering his eyes and digging into his temples, arresting his movement. “It’s what happens when you stop standing on the sidelines to cruelty, or acting to further cruelty yourself.” Flames started licking up her arm, prompting Fatso to start struggling.

“I don’t think you’ve ever seen real strength before.” She casually continued, ignoring his screams as the flames scorched his face. “I wonder, if I had never seen real strength, would I have turned out as something like you?” She pondered, even as Fatso begged and pleaded for her to let go. “Even so…” She murmured, glaring at Fatso, even as his skin blackened and peeled under her grip. “How can you call yourself strong… when you’re losing to someone AS WEAK AS ME!?!?!?!?” She screamed, wetness pouring down her face. She screamed and screamed and screamed, all while the skin, fat, flesh, and what little muscle remained of his body all turned to ash, tears pouring down her face all the while. When all that was left was his scorched, pitted, blackened skeleton, Boscha fell to her knees, tears falling in pools. “I’m so sorry I’m weak. Maybe if I was stronger… you wouldn’t have had to die so slowly.” And with those words, Boscha fell, her strength spent.

[idjitlili]

Don’t stop me now

Spike btvs x reader

Summary:Imagine looking like  Freddie Mercury as a woman like in a 'I want to break free' with a hoover  dancing only for an 100+ vampire to join in, unknowingly.

A/n: what can I say , I've been busy with college , and I'm British so we know spike is gonna know Queen too.

Word count: 3891 Y/c=country(or just a state in America I don't know, the whole world isn't America lol.

It was strange to say the least; working for wolfram & hart, you had came from y/c to here, working for a law firm run by a vampire with a soul.  

Mental if you ask yourself , you had known Wesley when you was younger, actually he had brought you a ticket to Los Angeles , since your parental figure had called him , and let him know about everything really. Well just that you were now y/a , and in need of a job. That was it you were here now.

You weren't sure what your job was really , you definitely was not a social butterfly, Wesley had mentioned you had to crack codes? Now that you think about it , something to do with researching different demon rituals? That's not the correct word , anyways to do that had write summaries for Angel's upcoming meetings with these different species.

You ever had your own office, you could live in there honestly.  

There was a lot going on all the time, frankly it was kinda scary , knowing no one apart from Wesley, who clearly knotted up by the scientist, Fred. Yet you was always invited to the important meetings , you had guessed Wes had put in a word , to help you feel welcome or included. There wasn't really a purpose for you being there.

You were a little nervous that maybe one of them, probably the vampire ,Angel , not knowing that the blond British man was one too, could read your mind. What would he find the that  was terrifying (except you read dirty smut) . You were sat by Wes , at the end of the table closest to the window. Which also meant you were sat next to Angel, with the jelled blond bad boy opposite you.

"Okay, so cannibal vampire cult...what's with that, and why is that a problem?" Angel had began , with the same brooding face as , he had on 24 hours a day.  

Gunn , had cleared his throat briefly, causing everyone to turn their heads towards him. "Well, it's quite simple, they are killing all our clients."  Yeah this was waste of your life, you had already began doodling on the notepad in front of you. Unknowingly forgetting you were in an 'significant'  meeting.  

Not knowing how much time had gone by, felt like hours , freshly finished school and know you were here? Sucky. You were only jolted out of your thoughts when a foot had nudged yours, looking up slowly to the man in front of you , waiting for your reaction.

He was quite handsome you could not deny that, a small blush had raised to your cheeks , as he had caught you in a trance of boredom, you had lifted your eyebrows at him in confusion. With nothing but a smirk in response you had tried to listen again to the meeting.

"So you are saying we need bait? But who would we use? This whole place is monsters, "  Fred's face with disgust at the word 'monsters' as she delivered her thoughts, Wes thought for a moment his hand at his lip, indicting so as he looked at the pine table.  

"No,not necessarily," He had gestured to you , all eyes on you, feeling like a stripper, wow this is attention? Blush upon your face once again,"w-wha" choking on your own words ,before Angel had shook his head "Absolutely not, Wes, that's not fair."

"Yeah! I'm human too."

"And me, hey! So are you Wes."

"Uhhh, Mister Angel, " What else was you supposed to call him? Dad?  He had looked at you from the disagreement, nodding for you to go on.  

"S-say if I was, uh, what's the chances of me dying?"   The pencil in your hands being gripped tightly in your now sweaty palms, but Angel is not given chance to reply. "He wouldn't allow that, love. Would you 'mister' Angel" the blond vampire smirk was evident as he looked at the brooding brunette.

"Hold on a second, why do they want a human, if they are cannibal?" Okay that did make sense, use your ears y/n.

"They can't just drink each other , they need something other than other vampires. That's only when they actually find one of ours." Yeah, you guess that the blond man did make sort of sense, you had just "hm" in response.

You had turned to Wesley, gesturing for him to come closer, so that you could whisper into his ear, the rest watched in confusion. Hold on Angel still didn't answer your question. "Uh, um, did you volunteer me because I'm a virgin? Does that make me more attractive to the vampires?" You had really hoped that no one had super hearing, Wes pondered for a second, your hand still on his shoulder.

"I'm not quite sure, I'm probably not the best person to ask , you should bring that up with Angel." Wow thank you , so much. You moved back into sitting in your chair correctly. Twiddling your thumbs, to pretend like no one was looking at you,felt like hours that you were sat there, before your foot was nudged again, you peeped up to see the same blond man looking at you. Who else is it going to be? Johnny Depp? No.

"Come on ,love." You weren't even sure of his name, and he was calling you love. Instead of speaking you had just stared back blankly. Most awkward meeting. "Would you just ask me then? Surely it's not that bad,no one else has to hear." Only his Spike saw the look Angel was giving him, awww soft boy. He did not seem like he was evil..only if you knew him a couple of years ago.

You had stood up, in hopes spike would do the same,so you wouldn't have to kneel next to him and whisper. He stood up as you made your way to him , moving away from the table, before turning back to the others. "You lot carry on, " With that he led you away out of Angel's office to an empty one. This is so dramatic but you don't really want to be talking about your virginity to these people, well except spike.

"So,love, what's the problem?" He had towered over you, he was quite handsome yes, but you felt intimidated in honesty. "Uh,well, since I'm going to be bait...well ,um,  Are virgins more at risk at being snacked on? If that makes a difference to vampires? Oh I'm sorry, uh I-" he let out a chuckle at you, you moved your gaze to your feet. Why did you have to wear these heels, you didn't see Patrick swayze anywhere.

"Yes, they can smell it as soon as you walk into a room and it tastes different to other humans. ,love."

"W-wait how do you know?"

"I've had my fair share, now come on , love-come on I'm not going to eat you."

"Pfft- I'm not a virgin."

"Sure love,"

And with that you both headed back to the meeting , before you left to be bait Fred had informed you Spike had a soul like Angel after you had questioned him to her and Wesley.

Now you were in the middle of a park at 1 am , which happened to be not even a mile from the vampire base. It was freezing , in a poncho with a tank top, apparently to show off your neck under the street light, you were pretty sure that the vampires didn't give a shit if you were wearing Michael Myers mask.  

Ah yes, first day on the job, risks of death 99.9% , lovely.

What exactly are you supposed to do?  Pretty sure that mister mysterious and mister Stevie Nicks/vanilla ice are hiding in the bushes or something. Oh how you wish that Keanu Reeves would swoop you away from this situation.  

Stood in the open park, kicking the mud with you shoe , well until you are body slammed backwards onto the floor, by obviously an indeed ugly vampire. Where's David from lost boys you wouldn't mind if it was him , but this dude stank. He was not even a second away from biting you- wait sorry his fangs were in your neck.  It hurt like period pains in your neck, well until it was over , when he was yanked off by a blurry figure , as you felt your body being lifted, that was it.

You had woken up the next morning under a blanket on the sofa in your office, a plaster on your neck, water on the table. You were never going to do that , with the huge headache and the low sugar levels. As you looked down realising your movie white tank top was now drenched in blood. Deciding it was best to go talk to someone to go home, you left the office.

Your heels now discarded , your bare feet padding against the carpet floor , all the way to Angels office, Harmony informing you that he was in a meeting with the others. One brief knock on the pine door, was all it took for the similar brooding vampire had opened the door , gesturing you in.

Okay it was a bit naughty to not changed the blood stained tank, since there are two vampires in the room. Soon you were sat exactly where you were 24 hours ago, as were everyone else. "Uh, um ," No one was speaking , just staring at you really. "Y/n, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have forced you into doing that , I didn't mean for you to get hurt." Wesley was undoubtedly guilty, probably thinking about how made your parental figure was going to be more like.

"I just like to say, I could've gotten aids."

"Uh, that's not how that works." Fred was honestly shaken by your words, well not really she just thought well actually you don't know.

"That was just dramatic effect. I'm quite annoyed , I did not want fucking Edward sucking me like I was juice carton. Did you even kill the cult?" Your voice sounded like sandpaper, as you delivered your anger with pop culture references and dramatic gestures.

"Yeah we did, well not me but still." Lorne smiled at you with concern , he had felt sympathy for you , hoping the bite wouldn't scar.

"Well good, um, I was wondering if I could go home now? Please?" You already hate this job, Angel had nodded, queuing you to stand up , doing a small bow in respect , going home to have a bath and sleep.

Wesley had called you not long after you gotten home , to inform you that you had been given an extra few days off. Wow first day then long weekend, mental.

Once you had gotten back on Monday, your neck was not healed still, but you had to come back otherwise you was going to be homeless.

Surprisingly , the work was easy , too easy, but you weren't to complain... there was tv with a DVD player, you were absolutely chuffed. It happened that you had brought cds in your bag accidentally. After storing those cds in that bag when coming to Los Angeles.

So , you did work through your work a little too fast, nothing to do, so since the demon cleaners  suck arse , and didn't clean up the blood from last week, you had went and gotten a Hoover and cleaning supplies. Queen and david bowie, playing on the tv, you know you can use DVD players to play cds, if you didn't know.

Maybe it was a little bad you playing slightly loud music while hoovering, dancing as you went, it was a shitty Hoover so it was taking a while. Your cardigan and heels discarded, your forehead laced with sweat, what could you say who does like Queen. Thus I want to break freebegan to play.

"I want to break free I want to break free I want to break free from your lies," The fact this song was a parody of coronation street. As soon as the beat began , you had also began aggressively Hooving, the long dramatic strides, even the the lip twitches as you lip-synced.

"You're so self satisfied I don't need you I've got to break free God knows, God knows I want to break free," You had stopped to flip the fringe of your hair , before resting your hands on your hips , the self confident head shake, another hair flip out of your face.

"I've fallen in love I've fallen in love for the first time And this time I know it's for real I've fallen in love, yeah God knows, God knows I've fallen in love It's strange but it's true, yeah,"

Obviously you couldn't take your shirt off , like Freddie, but yeah your skirt rising up , blouse too buttons undone was enough. Your hands hands spread out like a star for moments, you didn't know that Spike had heard the music and began to locate the source.

"I can't get over the way you love me like you do But I have to be sure When I walk out that door. Oh, how I want to be free, baby Oh, how I want to be free Oh, how I want to break free"

Looking up to the ceiling, arms lift out to the sides , legs apart. Dramatic spin, clenching of fists to your chest. Spike walking up to the do slowly opening it , seeing you shaking your head 'I want to break free' Now some elves but you can't do that your not Legolas. Or cows you are not sure.

Now not sure how you didn't see Spike .  This was embarrassing, spike wasn't copying really, not much anyways. It wasn't long after that dont stop me now started. Wow this is embarrassing. You had just abandon the Hoover at this point.

"I feel alive and the world I'll turn it inside out, yeah And floating around in ecstasy"

Bringing you hands in front  of you up near your neck , wiggling your fingers, spike did the same.

" So don't " You looked forward, "stop," Looked towards the window , as did spike . "me" Back forward. "now" "don't stop me 'Cause I'm having a good time, having a good time I'm a shooting star, leaping through the sky Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity." Jumping up , scratching like a Tiger standing side on,  moving your arms around you 200 degrees , you were doing a duet , without knowing it.

" I'm a racing car, passing by like Lady Godiva I'm gonna go, go, go" Honestly you don't know how to describe these moves in honesty go watch Paul Rudd do it.

"There's no stopping me I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah." Your arms almost touching spikes as you lift them up as you circle your arse in a small circle, before pointing up.

"Two hundred degrees That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit"  

Okay you had climb onto the desk , spot Spike oh my god , you couldn't of represented the fear , well until he had threw his jacket on the sofa ripped his shirt off, winking at you, shaking his shoulders.

"I'm traveling at the speed of light I wanna make a supersonic man out of you "

"Don't" you had wiggled yours back, before pointing at the platinum vampire,gesturing him to come to you .

"stop me now, I'm having such a good time I'm having a ball Don't stop me now"  As he reached you , you held out your hands for him , helping him up onto the table.

"If you wanna have a good time, just give me a call" Each of you looking at each other, as you danced ,sorta looking like Rick I'm never going to give you up, a lot of twisting , and hand movements.

"Don't" "stop" " me now ('cause I'm having a good time) Don't stop me now (yes, I'm havin' a good time)" Spike had grabbed your hands twirling you, ending up with you in front of him facing away. Throwing out thumbs up to the side of you as you got closer to the desk top.

"I don't want to stop at all" Before rising your arms up , Spike pulling you up, honestly if you knew him deeply you wouldn't believe that he would do this, he's a vampire.

"Yeah, I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars On a collision course I am a satellite, I'm out of control I am a sex machine, ready to reload. Like an atom bomb about to Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh explode." Throwing your head back then forwards quickly , with your leg up, clicking your finger.

"I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah Two hundred degrees That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit" Neither of you had noticed the music had gained more attention then you may of realised , Angel ,Wesley, Gunn, Fred and Lorne were hiding behind the sofa.

"Don't stop me, don't stop me Don't stop me, hey, hey, hey"

Spike jumped off of the table turning back to you , five feet away, holding his arms out to catch you.

"Don't stop me, don't stop me Ooh ooh ooh, I like it"

With that you had jumped, (Spike watched dirty dancing? Probably Harmony's fault.) Effortlessly he had caught you you lifting you up, for a few seconds.

"Don't stop me, don't stop me Have a good time, good time"

Lowering you down slowly , your arms around his neck, panting slightly, uh he wasn't sweaty , he's dead but you were covered in sweaty.

Soon enough the song came to an end , you were still in the vampires embrace , his arms around your shoulders securing you.

It hasn't even been an minutes ,clapping begins, someone turns of the Hoover and the music. You both turn around slowly pulling out of the embrace to see , the brooding Angel laughing with everyone.

"Bloody hell, perverts much." Annoyance interweaved in Spikes voice, you could share that embarrassment.

Looking at your feet realising how inappropriate you look , your blouse now see through due to the sweat , the cotton clinging to your body, wrapping your arms around yourself, to cover."uh , Angel , I was only cleaning and that because, um I completed my work, uhh there was still blo-""it's fine, as long as you are feeling better, " you had nodded at him before going back to looking at your feet.

Moments go by with silence from you and Spike as the others are talking away , no doubt about you two. You are soon pulled out of your trance when a heavy weight is placed on your shoulders , looking up to see Spike placing his long leather jacket on you , sending you a small smirk before walking out of your office , still shirtless.

"I haven't seen him like that in a long time, he is fond of you." With that Angel left too. " Aw, I'm glad you are settling in y/n/n , I just never thought you would do so ,by dancing to Queen with a vampire." Wesley had patted your back , leaving with Fred who just smiled , followed by Gunn and Lorne.

Thus you grabbed your stuff , to go home , you had danced to the end of the day. Walking out of the office , hoping Harmony didn't see you and kill you for Spike giving you his jacket.

She had already gone thank god , no death today, the next day , you had brought Spikes jacket with you. In search of him in the morning, you had hidden it in your bag , heading to Harmony's desk.  

"Uh, have you seen Spike today?" Please don't kill me. She had looked up at you with a polite smile. "He's literally just left Angel's office, something about going to taking a car or something? Why?"

"Oh, I just need to pass a message from Wesley to him, thank you." You had lied , but you hoped that Wesley would go with it, if she asked him.  Rushing down to Angel's private car park, in hopes of catching Spike, which you did but he almost hit you with the car.

Your hands placed on the hood, breathing roughly before moving to the drivers side , as he rolled down the window, smirking yet again. The car had had black out windows so you guess that's why he was going out in the day?

"Awe, all out of breathe for me , love?" You had ignored his comment , pulling out his heavy jacket from your bag, passing it to him.  "Cheers,love." You had nodded, turning away to head back up.  That was it until about 2:45 , again all your work was done, just sitting there doing nothing, but twiddling your thumbs.

So you decided , maybe you should go get some air outside, or go home you weren't sure. Swinging the office door open to see , Spike.

"Ah, oh Hi."

"Going somewhere, love?" Well that sounded like a threat , but he was not smirking like I'm going to chop your fucking head off.

"I don't know really , I think I'm going home."

"I'll drive you."

"Really?" He didn't seem to be the type to drop you off home to to your mother , not that she was there, but still, he had nodded , and that was it you walked with him. Until  Harmony stopped you both, she had frowned slightly before smiling again.

"So you got the message from Wesley then, spike?" You looked at Spike who didn't notice you looking , just stood looking at the blonde girl in confusion,until you pretend to resist your bag accidentally knocking him with bag.

"Yeah,"  

"What was it?"

"Mind your own business, wanker." With that he had walked around her with you ,guiding you with his arm around your shoulder.

Once you were both were sat in the car , you had given Spike your address , immediately he had started driving.  "So what was that about?"

"Well, uh, Wesley informed me about everyone ,  said you had something with Harmony, and she's a vampire. So I asked where you were this morning to give back your jacket but didn't want to say that, just in case she tried to eat me." Spike had let out a laugh, "I can see your concern, love , she's a bloody nightmare." You had let out a small laugh of understanding.

"Hey, do you still eat food?."

"Yeah, not a lot , but sometimes I do, why do you ask?"

" y-you've been very nice to me , since I'd been here, and you are driving me home.. uh so I was wondering if you would like to come in and have something. I don't have blood , uh other than my own and uh I lost a lot of that last week. You don't have to , um, I jus-" "I will, love,"

"Oh brilliant, uh I make some nice cookies."

"Great, love. Can't wait."

[khorale]

Bnha 240

Surprisingly, still a villain chapter!

Pfft yeah, eyewitness report. How reliable, these eyewitnesses.

It’s the question of whether citizens have the right to arm themselves. One side states that allowing this directly contributes to the death toll, but the general public is more swayed to the other side that proclaims that they’re allowed to protect themselves. It’s a thing that officially it’s illegal due to the many varieties and unpredictable quirks, but people are known to look the other way when things like that happen, as we are shown all the way back during the Stain fight. Being able to use their quirks, to have something that they can use to defend themselves, provides a sense of control and confort to people who live in a society without All Might. At the same time, this is swaying them to follow the Liberation Army’s ideology. Nicely played.

The truth of Deika city may eventually come to light given the fact that there’s a lot of holes to this story. Some questions that could arise: Are those 20 people named? What quirk or device do they use to make that giant crater? 

Compress finally got his sushi! I can’t believe we actually get to see the sushi party! Although I wish Shigaraki could eat with them - the only thing he ate on screen was a biscuit 20 chapters back.

I can see a pretty nasty scar there on her face. I wonder if she lost an eye or if the eyepatch is just protecting it while her eye heals. It’s still too soon to tell.

Seems like it’s not “bye bye trauma” after all... I know it’s more realistic this way and you don’t instantly get better, but... Poor Twice. Also I love all the casual LoV banter.

I also love that sushi loading screen! The League is making the Liberation Army pay for everything from food to clothing 🤣. I’d feel sorry considering all the medical bills, but... the Liberation Army was the one who picked the fight.

Dissention being buit up between the Liberation army members and LoV despite working together. Hanabata referred to Re-Destro as the supreme leader still before he corrected himself, and that’s the only reason they’re doing this. Plus they are raised to follow Destro’s will no matter what.

Still, it’s still different from the time Magne was killed and Toga and Twice had to go over to the yakuza - they were ready to screw Overhaul over despite not given clear instructions to do so. Meanwhile, Curious is dead via Toga and nobody mentions it except the news. Nobody in the Liberation army had a genuine emotional reaction (Hanabata’s incitement doesn’t count). I hope this won’t follow the trend and have the Liberation Army backstab the LoV at a bad time.

New costume! 👀 Shigaraki actually wearing a suit!

It’s still not specified why he’s still wearing a hand. But I’m thinking he only destroyed Father who physically hit him, and he won’t be crumbling his other family member’s hands. Plus, many people knew Shigaraki Tomura as the guy with a hand on his face so he’ll be more recognizable/iconic this way. Another reason is that he hides his face from people he doesn’t trust, so even if there are spies (ahem, Hawks) in the crowd, they won’t get identifying features from his face. For instance if he tries to go out incognito and people know what he looks like, that will make it much harder to steer clear of heroes.

Hopefully we’ll get more explanation in the future.

Also, Gigantomachia is at the back of the crowd! Is he still naked...?

Wow, Re-Destro. Your fanboy is showing. It’s crazy to see Shigaraki inspire such intense idolization and loyalty unintentionally. Boy’s leveled up in charisma stats.

His parka also looks like Geten’s. Like Geten just had a spare one in the wardrobe and lent one out to be used as a cape.

Paranormal Liberation front sounds like you’re liberating ghosts lmao. I’ll stick to the League and Liberation army. OR Battlefront (from the leaks translations) Unless Mangastream or Viz gives better names.

Someone noted that gap between Compress and Skeptic shows a clear divide between the group. It also could have been Curious’s spot. I hope that with time the group can learn to work together and mesh better. It won’t be any fun if they separate again and the League go back to sleeping in dumps.

“Go wild.” Yess sir. I just realized that Shigaraki had a script in his hand and was reading off of it until he went “screw it this is irrelevant” and said just a single phrase to drive everyone wild.

We also get Geten face reveal! Cool. Not sure if girl or pretty boy.

Hawks_is_mentally_screaming_and_dead_inside.jpg

That’s a brutal slice across the corpse’s face. But Dabi is skeptical about if it’s actuall Best Jeanist so we at least have that bit of hope. Otherwise... the #3 hero is dead and the heroes lost another important firepower and Hawks will be enduring emotional backlash as well as public backlash if/when he’s found out.

Look at Re-Destro! His happy little smile and his head above the clouds. Totally lovestruck, man. I don’t even need to look for ship material they’re just there.

He’s like a puppy following Shigaraki around, eager to please now.

I also think Shigaraki told him to get lost so that the Liberation army people don’t get to see him fall and look weak and stuff. He doesn’t trust them that much yet. With white hair + red eyes, a cane and the general grumpy attitude, he reminds me even more of Accelerator from A Certain Magical Index.

“The Bare Minimum” sounds like a taunt, because Shigaraki did all that and more. He ended up gaining the Liberation army alongside Machia’s loyalty, on top of regaining his memory and power boost.

While Ujiko talks to Shigaraki on the phone, Hawks had one of his feathers to spy on the conversation by sensing the air vibration. Dabi really shouldn’t have brought him to the meeting because now he has like a surveillance device.

Hotwings shippers come get your food~.

Before Shigaraki gets that “power”, he has to go on a quest. Hmm... I hope it’s not about the quirk bullets and the doc needing Eri to make more of them.

[cowandcalf]

Writer’s Month 2020

Prompt No.11 - Light Part II (I couldn’t post all at once...so much to try to come up with shorter chapters...)

Chapter 1 - 5

Chapter 6

Dog tags – no one, no one touches a soldier's dog tags without permission. Danny knows that from a documentary he once saw about war veterans. It's a piece of their soul, of their devotion and it's extremely private. He feels how Steve relaxes behind his back. Danny knows Steve would have swatted his hand away if he had tried to grab the dog tags. He's so glad he's passed that test, too.

Steve stays where he feels safe, hidden. He does not step up and Danny's face is turned toward the wall. Two chains, each hang from a simple nail on the wall. Danny can read the imprinted names though. Steven Jack McGarrett and the second one, much more worn and battered, says the same name. Danny levels his breathing.

Steve speaks in a low voice. "In my line of duty, I've seen too much death. The base and the training camps can only do that much to get you ready for the real deal. You're never ready enough for what you're about to live through when deployed. It gets to you – to everyone – after a few years in."

Danny's eyes take in the small metal plates worn by their owners for years around their necks. The way they are put on the wall clenches his heart – they're discarded. The picture speaks of finality. One image that tells an entire story arching over ten volumes of human strength and utter devotion. Danny hardly stands to look at such raw intimacy. He doesn't even try to calm his racing heart.

Steve keeps talking, "you can't shake it even if you believe so at the beginning. We pretend it's not there. No one wants it but everyone deals in their own way with that shit." A longer pause makes Danny believe Steve has left. He doesn't break the spell of the moment. He gives Steve the time, he needs. "As a kid, you're afraid of the monsters under your bed. As a grown-up, serving your country, you're not afraid of any monsters until you meet them in your head."

Danny slowly turns around. He doesn't try to pretend. The chills of the words he's just heard drill into his bones. Steve controls the emotional reflection in his eyes. Danny only sees struggle and pain when Steve lets him. Steve's eyes are the only place where he could slip and someone could catch a glimpse of what lies beneath: where the purgatory of what he has witnessed burns on, keeping the monsters in his head alive. Otherwise, Steve stands out of the crowd due to his ridiculous great looks. No one on the street would assume this perfect shell of a body holds an eroded soul, worn down with ears of combat.

"Why the plants?" Danny wonders since he has bought the seldom flower for his aunt. And he desperately needs Steve to get rid of that robot-like look on his face.

Steve pushes his hands down his front pockets. He dips his head and hides his face. Danny can see how the tension creeps back and hardens Steve's muscles to a point where he's stiff as a statue. "Plants grow. Most plants sleep at night. They rest and they wait for the sun to wake them. Bushes, trees, flowers – they reach out, and with all they've got, they face sunlight. They grow stronger, grow bigger, make roots that hold them steady, embedded in the soil. They survive because they need light." Danny hears Steve swallow. His voice is even lower, almost a whisper between the wind in the leaves when he speaks again. "I need this – the light and the growing. I – all that. It helps." Steve makes an ashamed gesture, a flailing hand in the dusk to play it down. "God, this sounds so cheesy."

Danny's skin is too small for his body. He works his jaw and hopes his throat doesn't close up with the jammed emotions he can hardly contain.

"I'm a SEAL. Ex-SEAL." Words, spoken so tense and thin Danny almost misses them.

"That's why the dog tags are there and not around your neck?" Danny clears his throat.

Steve turns his head and makes it impossible for Danny to read on his face how hard it is to be out of the tightly knitted circle. Steve walks through blazing fire every time his eyes wander over to the two chains hanging on the wall. Danny can't even imagine how Steve feels. How has he ever thought he could make a difference? Love? Meaningful things? Danny wouldn't even know where to begin. Pfft, God, what's up with him? It's ridiculous. Steve lives in an entirely different orbit, unreachable, unattainable. Not his league.

"To who belongs the second pair? It's the same name on them, Steven McGarrett."

"It's my grandfather's, Steven Jack McGarrett. Ensign McGarrett. He perished on the U.S.S Arizona during the attack on Pearl Harbor, December 1941."

How can a piece of metal stand for the very soul of its bearer?

Danny's gaze gets drawn to the man in front of him, wearing threadbare jeans and standing barefoot in the golden light of the sinking sun. Love hot like fiery anger boils in Danny's stomach. He watches Steve, surrounded by a garden he has created so he won't drown in blood and despair and anguish. This green ocean is Steve's embodied back-up plan to survive would he ever make it back from the war alive. Danny's exhausted. Steve stays silent.

They watch the sunset. They still stand on the same spot when the shadows of the night grow longer and darker.

Danny's cell rings disgustingly loud in his pants pocket. He shakes his head to get rid of the dazed feeling in his head. "Chin? Yeah, sure. Give me the address I'll meet you there. Yep, see you in ten." Danny stares at this phone. Has he been that much out? He's forgotten about work completely since he has set foot in Steve's green world. Unbelievable.

"I gotta go," Danny points at his cell, "we've got a case." He could really need a break to get his head straight again.

"Sure," is all Steve answers.

The world is too loud after the reverent moments in the garden even if grief and loss have been woven into the open space between words and glances. It's was so exceptional Danny has nothing more to say. He has no idea how to catalog this afternoon with Steve. He's overwhelmed. He's glad Chin called with a case. He needs some time alone.  And there's more he doesn't know how to deal with. Steve tries to disguise he's not staring at Danny's chest or how his eyes stealthily crawl back up to his lips. This throws Danny even more.

Danny curls his fingers around the steering wheel. He lowers the window and braces his elbow on the frame of the open window. Steve walks over to him. He's still wearing the same tank top and jeans. The dirt on his clothes gives him a wild, untamed look. Steve doesn't seem to care how he looks. Danny can't take the smooth shift of strong muscles beneath sun-tanned skin any longer without losing control. He wants to touch and to smell with closed eyes like the primal side of his masculinity screams at him.

Steve bends down, one hand on the roof of the car the other still in the front pocket. He meets Danny's eyes head-on. "Raincheck on lunch?"

Danny holds Steve's piercing look. He nods brusquely, "raincheck on lunch."

And then nothing. Two men breathing and staring. Danny's stomach is heavy with suppressed emotions and the wish to yank himself free from the strong pull Steve's presence has on him.

"Do you make me say it?" Steve's jawline is sharp, his lips a thin line.

"Say what?" Danny breathes. He sweats in places he can't stand when it's not during sex.

Steve stretches to his full height and taps the roof of the car with his palm. "How can I reach you? Care to give me your number?"

Danny feels like the world's biggest dork. What did he expect? A kiss? And crazy SEAL stunt to yank him out of the car into Steve's massive arms? God, it's time for him to hit the road. "Sure yeah, it's 808-925-1717. Sorry, I've nothing to write it down –"

"I got it." Steve steps away from the car.

"Okayyy?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, see you. Bye." Danny turns the key and rolls off Steve's property. He watches in the rear mirror how Steve's figure gets smaller. He stands and waits and watches after Danny's car. He misses Steve's face the moment he can't see it anymore. The shape of Steve's body and the way he chews at his bottom lip is something he already wants in his life.

Steve watches Danny leave. He stands in the dark long after the Camaro's taillights have vanished between the thick green. He can't move. His chest is wide open. He feels the surf hitting the shore even if miles away. Sea means comfort and calmness. He's one with the water's movements. It's what carries him through hard times.

His fingers twitch. They feel empty. The front of his abs burns with the memory of arm muscles. Muscles hard as a rock. Steve closes his eyes and waits until the inner struggle ebbs away, giving space to numbness and a softer shade of despair. Every evening by nightfall he undergoes the same procedure: senseless questions shoot holes in his brain. What the fuck should he do with his life? How to move on? Where to start?

The night seems lighter today. He listens and thinks the wind carries the faint sound of an engine over to him. He imagines how Danny guns the engine to get to his task, his purpose, his job. And all Steve has is too much time at hand he cannot make pass faster.

Danny.

Steve vividly remembers the phone call he had with Kamekona when his friend told him about Danny. He was so angry he couldn't see straight. His fear and the fury made him almost spit fire. Kame made a decision without his consent. He was so sorry afterward, ashamed of how he lost it. He hung his head and sincerely apologized for his choice of words on the phone.

"Why are you calling again, Kame? You waste your time. I said already 'no' the first time. I don't want – no, YOU listen, man. I'm not interested! Fuck! How many times do you make me say it? Get it into your thick, stubborn head! It's a fucking NO from me!"

"We've agreed on the no-yelling, brah. It's time, dude. Sell your flowers, make some nice money. You could easily reforest the entire island with the crazy number of green you've stashed in your garden, brah. Wassup, man? Go for it, Mary's with me on this one. Time to learn to move on. Open a shop, go business, go big, dude. Get to know people."

"Don't you dare to drag Mary into this and don't try to sugarcoat it, Kamekona. It's still a huge NO. Don't – "

"He's good for you, brah."

"I don't want to sell my flowers to an arrogant haole, a freaking detective –"

"You don't even know him, man. You're a haole, too, buddy."

"We went to the same high school, Kame. What the fuck, man? I grew up here. It's MY island, too! And no, no, NO! I do NOT sell my babies to any-fucking-body! You got that, big guy? What does this haole even know?"   

"He's different –" 

"I don't care, Kame! Not happening! Not HPD, not the Governor, not the Queen of goddamn England – I don't fucking care! I don't sell my plants! And I don't want a stupid shop either. Stop pushing, you only get me angry." 

"Stop with the yelling already. Don't make me use keiki-talk, Steve-brah. Danny's good for you. He's a haole, yeah, but he's just the right person –"   

"What the hell is wrong with you? Got food poisoning? What's this bullshit all about? You hit your head one too many times, man. He's a white boy from the mainland, Kamekona. Jesus fucking Christ! Do you even hear yourself, huh? You, of all people, YOU want to send a stranger from fucking New Jersey over to my secret place?"    

"Yeah."   

"I don't need people, Kame, I need to be left the FUCK alone. No, I don't want him here."    

"Kawika feels it too. C'mon, Steve –"    

"Don't mess with me. I'm in no mood to be messed with. Shit! I don't need this spiritual crap from you guys about having a sixth sense. I'll drop by and blow up your fucking truck if you don't spit it out why THE HELL I need to sell my flowers to an arrogant cop I don't even fucking know!"   

"I dunno if he's arrogant but Danny's solid soulmate material." 

"You – I can't even. What the hell? Soulmate? My Ass. Are you fucking kidding me? I can't believe the ridiculous shit you're telling me, Kame. That one is even super low for you. Go fuck yourself."  

Steve remembers how he screamed into the phone. He was so close to driving over to murder his friend and to bury his body somewhere on the island. He almost burst at the seams with fury but most of all he was ashamed to lose it. He so lost it. He wanted to punch this Danny guy in the face the moment he'd pull up to his place.  

"I'm a freak, Kame. Don't you get that?  Messed up to the point of no return. I have fucking panic attacks. I can't sleep and I see stuff I shouldn't. What the ever-loving fuck do you think you're doing by sending me this guy over, huh? I don't believe in fairytales anymore and stupid love stories make me want to puke. I know my limits. You just made me want to punch something so hard my knuckles would break. I'm so goddamn angry I can't see straight. Happy now? You're such an asshole!"  

"You're done, man?"    

"Yeah, I'm done."      

"We Hawai'ians know things, brah. You, Steve, you feel the ocean in your blood. I feel different vibes coming from the stars, just like Kawika or Mamo. We know, brah, we just know. We feel the 'Aina' of the land. She talks to us. Your inner darkness needs light. Danny's light. Don't shot him in the leg, dude. Play nice. Danny's good for you."    

He would never admit it out loud but sometimes, Kame and Kawika scare him a little.   

Steve stays restless for the rest of the night. The fluttering in his stomach worries him the most. He's scared he might skid into another fit. But nothing happens. The strange, strong sensation won't disappear. His stomach kind of does some funny swoops he can't control.    

He lies in bed on his back with his hands spread wide over his nervous abs. His pulse rabbits under his skin. He stares at the ceiling and listens to the sounds of the night. He sees Danny's face when he closes his eyes. He shuts them often just to feel the comfort he can't explain. The revelation hits him hard. His eyes fly open but he stays motionless and just breathes. Steve feels the trickle of sweat running over the temple into his hair.

The label for that odd sensation lies on his tongue. It's so ridiculous he doesn't want to say it out loud. He would have barked a laugh if he was able to move. But he's thunderstruck by the fact that it has caught him off guard. He's been ambushed without realizing it. It's so obvious and so there, it frightens him. He can feel these little fuckers in his stomach. The dawning realization is worth a little anxiety fit.      

Butterflies.     

Steve turns to the side and buries his face in the pillow.    

TBC

Also on AO3

[electriscar]

“Excuse me!  Sir Knight!”  Her voice is small when she runs him, choked with heaving breaths — his head turns, a brow raised, as the green - haired woman reaches his side.  She pauses to catch her breath.  “Oh, thank goodness I caught you!”

“Can I be of assistance?”

She nods.  “I — yes.  I’m sorry, I...could we speak in private?”

The concern on his face deepens.  “Is everything all right, miss?  Are you in danger?”

“Yes, I — criminals are hunting me.  But I — I don’t know who else to go to for help.  I worry that some of the Knights may be in on it, but I thought, since you’re a new recruit, you might not have —”

“In on it?  Miss, are you suggesting that there’s —”

“Yes, corruption.  Please, this is why I can’t discuss it in public.”  Her eyes well, shining, afraid.  His gaze softens.  “Please.  We don’t have to go far.  Just — out of the middle of town.  Everyone could be watching.  Please?”

His hand settles on her shoulder, and her green eyes raise, hopeful — he nods to an alleyway not far from where they are, and she nods, tears finally tracking down her cheeks at the sheer relief.  He guides the trembling woman to a more private enclave and speaks only once they’re alone, voice low and gentle.

“All right, miss.  It’s okay.  you’re okay.”  She nods and inhales deeply.  “All right.  Take a deep breath.  I’m going to need your name first.”

She manages a watery smile.  “I’m Niya.  Thank you so much.”

He nods.  His smile is so gentle.  “Niya.  It’s good to meet you.  Now, can you tell me about what corruption you believe you’ve discovered in the Knights?”

Niya nods.  “Yes, of course.  Can I ask one question first, though?”

“Of course.”

“Which of them sent you here?”

He starts, head tilting, confusion reflecting across the young knight’s vision.  She wipes at her eyes while he asks, “I’m sorry?”

When those eyes raise back to his, hers are remarkably free of pain, none of the fear that had been there mere moments ago reflecting at all.  She smiles, hands tucking behind her back.

“Well, obviously your orders came directly the top.  You’re ranked too highly to be getting orders from anyone but a Harbinger.”  His eyes widen.  “And that’s my second question, actually, good Sir Knight.  What in the world is a Pyro Agent doing infiltrating the Knights of Favonius?  You’re so far past petty reconnaissance missions, after all.  They could just as easily send footsoldiers for this.”  A finger taps at her chin.  “And you’re no longer undergoing the kind of constant training that would keep your skills at blending in as sharp as they’d need to be for any kind of long - term integration.  So you must be aiming for something more short - term and immediate that requires someone of more skill than any of the average soldiers they typically send for this sort of shit.”

He laugh uneasily.  “Miss, I think you’re confused.  I have no idea what you’re talking abo —”

“Oh, I think I got it!  You’re here to assassinate the Grand Master.”  He inhales and her smile widens.  “Acting Grand Master, as it were but I’m sure you know she’s far more competent than her predecessor.  So I get you alone, promising to offer you some potential dirt on the Knights, and you think that you’re about to get something that can be of use diplomatically; even some way to pin her eventual murder of some of the other knights I’m about to implicate.”

“Miss, I don’t —”

“Oh, please.  I could smell the Delusion on you the minute I walked into this city.”

His face cracks into empty surprise; and then folds into cruel dismissal, anger, all the warmth from his pretend - persona fleeing with ease.  He sneers.  “Who are you, really?”

“I told you.  I’m Niya.”  She grins and leans against the wall behind her.  “Let’s cut to the chase.  We both know the rules.  Whichever Harbinger who sent you here will be furious if they find out that you got found out.  And so easily, too!  I don’t even want to imagine how you’ll be punished.”  He winces.  Niya knows she should feel empathy, but she doesn’t.  “But.  Nobody has to find out.  For the right price.”

One of the agent’s brows arch.  “You’d sell out your own Grand Master?”

She snorts.  “I’m not a native.  And she’s interrupted my business as sure as she’s interrupted yours.  You’re doing me a favor.  And if you pay up — and promise not to tell your friends about me — I’m more than happy to look the other way.”

He thinks on it for only a moment; then he digs through the satchel around his shoulders and tosses her a bag of coins with a grunt.  She catches it, eyes shining.  “Will that do, Niya?”

She opens the bag and lets out a low, pleased whistle.  “Pleasure doing business with you.”  She bows too - low, all dramatics.  “You ever need a hand, feel free to look me up.”  His scowl deepens.

——

He wakes up when she opens the window, like she knew he would.  The dark room is empty, but she can feel his movements; hears the flick of that familiar knife.  Her polearm blocks it a moment before it can meet her neck, a moment before the agent reveals himself, and a moment before the knife bursts into flames.

Idiot.  Pyro against electro?  They don’t train ‘em like they use to, she supposes.

Her polearm bursts to lightning light; only the ends of it.  None of the fallout hits her flesh; the same can’t be said of the poor man gripping his knife, the entire weapon wreathed in flames.  Overload occurs and he’s thrown back with a shout — she winces, hopes he hasn’t just woken any of the other knights in the adjacent rooms — and hits the ground.  She’s upon him lightning fast, polearm snapping in twain.

“Bye,” she whispers, before she plunges one of the daggers into his throat.  He gasps around his splitting windpipe, blood spilling onto the floor and her hands, and then stops gasping when she twists the weapon.  He stills.  She sighs, pushing herself to stand, wiping her hand across her brow as her polearm reconnects and finds its way to her back.

She’s silent for a moment but, when she hears no approaching footsteps, breathes a sigh of relief.  “Now.  Let’s see if you stiffed me with that buy - off.”

Going through his things is quick.  Nothing that could identify him as Fatui — aside from the Delusion she finds on his body while turning out his pockets.  More mora, of course, which she happily borrows.  A few very - nice knives.  A picture of a little girl — his real daughter, or the daughter of the name he’d adopted for this mission, she wonders only briefly.  She makes her way to his desk.  Nothing atop it aside from a few coins and quills.  One of the lowers drawers, though — a letter, apparently from the agent, not yet sent.

“Have they changed the cipher since the last one?” the woman wonders quietly, using a match to light a lamp that rests upon the desk.  She used to be able to read in the dark.  It’s good that she can’t these days.  “Ugh.  They have changed it.”  She casts a glance over her shoulder at the corpse.  “You really couldn’t make things easy for me, huh?”  She looks back to the letter.  “Let’s see here — mmm, okay.  Based on playfair...”  One of the coins resting on the desk finds her fingers and spins idly between her knuckles.  

“‘My Lord...integration into the Ordo is going as planned...blah blah blah’...oh!”  Eyes scan a few paragraphs down.  “Let’s see here.  ‘Came into contact with a woman I believe to be a deserting agent.’  Naughty, naughty.  Didn’t you promise not to snitch on me?”  If he mistook her for a Pyro Agent, that at least explains why he’d thought that fire was anything other than a horrible idea.  “‘Requesting permission to engage and eliminate.’  Hah!”  She stands from the desk, snuffing out the lamp with one hand while she stuffs the letter into her pocket with the other.  She spins on her heel and rests a foot on the dead agent’s chest.  “Oh, poor man.  How’d engaging me go?  Pfft.”  The woman bends and lifts the man over her shoulder, grunting at the weight.  She eyes the wooden floors still stained with blood.  Oh, well.  If she’s fast, she’ll have time to come clean that up before anyone thinks to check.  “C’mon, sweet thing.  Let’s go dispose of the evidence, shall we?”

——

She doesn’t worry about getting far outside the city — she knows the knight’s routes well enough not to fear getting caught.  Besides, he’s a heavy man, and her skill has always laid more in speed than strength.  They get out into the wilderness before she sets him down with a groan and a muttering about how she really needs to work out more.  Niya builds a pyre atop the corpse — glancing at the pyro delusion still on his body only once before shaking her head — and lights it with her blade against stone.  Then, lightning follows, and — there’s nothing much left afterwards.  Except for the charred Delusion.  

“Should really be charging Jean for doing her job for her.”  Calloused fingers lift the Delusion lightly, tossing it a few times experimentally.  “Or maybe Diluc.  This seems more his kind of bullshit.”  It’s only a short walk to Starsnatch cliff, where she hurls the Delusion into the sea.  The sky’s going just barely orange.  Not long ‘til the sunrise.

“Better go clean up after myself.”

——

"Did you hear?”  Paimon asks, hovering beside them at the bar as Niya starts her third Death After Noon (  gods, she wishes that literally anything here could get her drunk  ) and Lumine finishes her second juice.  Niya’s head tilts.  “One of the new knights just disappeared!”

Niya laughs.  “Really?  Bet Jean’s thrilled.”

“She’s suuuuper worried!”  Niya laughs again.  “He just up and left.  All his things were gone.  He was a really promising new recruit, too, but it looks like he deserted.”

Niya’s head shakes.  “Lotsa people get into stuff like the military and figure out too late they hate it.”

“Yeah, I guess.  Jean had Paimon and Lumine doing rounds looking for him just in case, but we didn’t find anything.”

“Boo.  Sorry some lazy deserting jerk made you guys work more.”

“We did find something,” Lumine murmurs suddenly.  “There were some faint elemental traces leading from his room.  Disappeared in the forest.”

“Oh, yeah!  Paimon forgot all about that!”

Niya’s head tilts.  “You think he had a secret Vision or something?  Dunno why somebody like that would wanna leave.  That’d put you up for promotion way earlier than the rest of ‘em.”

Lumine’s gold eyes rest on Niya’s face for a long moment; the assassin raises a brow, smiling patiently, and holds their gaze.  Lumine must accept what they find there, because those eyes lower.  “I don’t know,” they murmur.  Niya’s smile softens.

“Don’t worry so much, Lil’ Lumi.  If he deserted, finding him would be sad, anyway, right?”  A hand loops around their shoulder.  “I’m sure he’s happier wherever he is.”

[allforhader]

Grief Group

Richie Tozier x (M) Reader

Warnings: Langauge

Part 1 | Part 2

“Eddie!—“

“WE CAN STILL SAVE HIM”

“Eddie! Eddie—!”

——-

A year later...

“You should go to this support group. I’ve been a couple times but it’d be a big help Richie”

“Don’t lecture me Bill”

“I wasn’t even lecturing! I’m just telling you. There’s a great support group that I used to attend and I think it would do you some good”

“Okay. Whatever. Send me the details and I’ll go the next one”

“Perfect!” Bill smiles picking up his phone from the table and immediately sent Richie the details as he continued to brood over his food. “Hell you can even meet someone-“

“Okay—In what regard?”

“A friend?” Bill scoffs to Richie’s defensive attitude. “Come on. You’re not replacing him. It’d...just be nice. To relate with someone that isn’t another loser or Patty”

“I guess”

When the time came to go to the grief group, Richie sat in his car for an hour beforehand. He didn’t really want to go. But if he’s being honest, therapy doesn’t help when it’s one on one.

“I hate you Bill” Richie states before finally getting out of his car heading into the building.

The grief group is well, a group grieving over someone they lost, and they sit in a circle like you used to do in kindergarten. Except show n tell is more with real life traumas instead of a stuffed animal from grandma. But everybody engages in conversation before coming together for group.

“New here?” A lovely woman approaches Richie who found himself hugging the wall.

“Uh. Yeah.”

“Well, you don’t have to speak for your first time if you’re not comfortable. Just know it’s a safe place to do so” She smiles resting a reassuring hand on Richie’s shoulder before going to take her seat. “Alright let’s group up!” she says with a smile. Misleading smile.

Richie walks over taking his coat off and resting it on his chair before taking his seat. A few people are around his age, very few elderly, and it’s said seeing a handful of 20 somethings. Could be their parents or a lover. God...a lover. His attention instantly drew toward a man sitting beside him. Petite. Built. Good genetics by still having a full head of hair. He knows Bill can rock a silver touch, but this guy can as well. What the hell is Richie thinking.

“Well shall we get started?” The lady states once everybody was settled. “It’s nice to see new faces, just a reminder we are here to listen and support one another during a difficult time in our lives. My name is Linda and I lost my husband three years ago in a car accident”

“Tsk...three years” The man beside Richie states as everyone looks at him.

“It’s always nice to see you here Y/N”

“Pfft. Likewise” Y/N laughs sitting up in his seat taking his tie off while doing so.

“Would you like to share? How was the funeral?”

“Okay well first off. For the new faces. Hi my name is Y/F/N Y/L/N and I lost my fiancé in a hit n run about four months ago”

Four months...shit. Richie can remember vividly how much it hurt when Eddie died and how fresh the wound was around the first few months. He can only imagine what Y/N must be feeling.

“The funeral was fine. Lovely. For a funeral. His parents and mine wanted me to talk. But I didn’t want to”

“Why?” Richie suddenly asks when he meant to just think it. “Oh sorry I-“

“Nah it’s fine. It’s a valid question. Why wouldn’t I want to talk at my own fiancé’s funeral? Probably because my last words to him were fuck you” Y/N’s honest during these meetings. Like Linda said.

It’s a safe place.

“Well Y/N there are things we regret for saying to our deceased loved ones as our final words to them. But we also regret what we should’ve said instead of what we did” Linda states as a few members of the group agree with her but Y/N wasn’t up for it.

“You said it was a hit and run?” The youngest out of the group that Richie spotted spoke up. “You can get justice for his death Y’know Y/N”

“His parents are doing that shit. I don’t want to be involved.”

“I would” Richie looks at Y/N catching more stern look. “Wouldn’t you want to feel relieved that...you got justice”

“Did you? Mr. Comedian?”

So someone does know who he is. And it’s the one that’s quite the ball buster with an attitude.

“Did you get justice for the lost of your loved one?”

“Sir you don’t have to share if-“

“No no. I’m good” Richie straightens up giving Y/N a look before looking to everyone else. “I’m Richie Tozier, and I lost the love of my life a year ago. He was murdered.”

The gasps coming from a few had a lot of mixed feelings. It’s the famous comedian Richie Tozier. He’s gay? His love was murdered?

Y/N retracts in his seat but relaxes kind of feeling awful for trying to push a button he’d know for a fact, wouldn’t want to be pushed on himself.

“So...justice?” Y/N frowns looking at Richie sharing an exchange.

“Yeah. I got justice. But not how you’re going to get it”

“Let me guess. The asshole died? Before you could lay a hand on him?”

“Something like that” Richie reassures with a half smile before looking down in his lap.

And that was the last of both of them talking. The rest of the group continued with sharing and keeping IN MIND OF OTHER’S FEELINGS. Excuse me.

When the group dispersed, Richie headed out of the building finding Y/N hitting a smoke outside. He walks over beside him giving him a blank stare.

“Want one?”

“If you’re offering”

“Well, you were staring. Assumed more than offer on my own terms” Y/N states reaching for the pack and lighter in his back pocket handing it to Richie. “So, Richie Tozier at a grief group. That’s a sight for the papers”

“How much you want to be there’s going to be a picture of me in that group somewhere around social media?”

“A round of drinks” Y/N laughs taking his phone out as Richie lit his cigarette.

After typing in the comedian’s name in the twitter search bar, and there were a few tweets about it. But no picture. So fans are calling it fake news. Y/N shows Richie while taking back his pack after putting out his cigarette.

“So, who’s paying?”

“I will. I was a dick in group” Y/N smiles putting his phone away.

After a long walk to the nearest bar and stealing the last booth. Y/N set down a scotch for the comedian and a bottle of vodka with two shot classes.

“You drink a whole bottle?”

“I pay for a whole bottle. But for the most part. I can’t handle past three shots” Y/N states popping open the bottle. “You want one?”

“Pour it” Richie states as he takes a sip of his scotch. “So...who forced you to go to grief group?”

“Well, I sat in the waiting room as my fiancé died in an OR. So a nurse did when I got a bag of his belongings”

“Shit I’m sorry”

“Nah. You asked. I’m only going to be honest with you and answer it” Y/N smiles before handing him his shot as he took down his just to pour another one. “Can’t believe people can’t handle vodka.”

Richie coughed after downing his which caught a laugh from Y/N.

“See. Can’t handle”

“I’d like to see you handle tequila”

“Gross. Yeah no. Vodka is my death wish. Ain’t adding tequila to the party” Y/N says as he takes his phone out after getting a number of texts from his parents. “Idiots”

“Who?”

“My parents. They’re worried but yknow. My death wish” Y/N raises his second shot before taking it down.

“At least it’s just two people bugging you. I have four”

“I wouldn’t see it as bugging. It’s annoying but Y’know” Y/N shrugs watching Richie take his bottle to pour him another shot for the both of them.

“They only mean well” Richie states clinging shots with Y/N before regretting it. “Mm—shit dude. I don’t see how you can handle this crap.”

“Mm. Death wish” Y/N shrugs.

“Man. I remember the first few months...my friends wanted to put me in AA because I’d drink until I blacked out. But come on. Not to be rude to my friends who I consider my family, but their lives got better after everything.”

“Leaving you behind to grieve.” Y/N states taking his scotch to get a different taste in his mouth. “Yeah. I’m sorry you went through that. And well still? Or you wouldn’t be in grief group”

“My best friend out of them all suggested it. So I listened. Didn’t want to. Sat in the parking lot for an hour”

“Yeah. Honestly I know I’m not the best influence. But if you need someone who’s willing to relate without the rest of the world moving on?” Y/N held his hand out for Richie’s phone and was handed it to him with no hesitation. “You can text, call, whatever. Just not during the stereotypical work hours during the week”

“What do you do?”

“As much as I wish I had as much free time as you did. I’m a journalist.” Y/N says calmly saving his number in his phone handing it back. “And no. I won’t put this in an article. Even if it would give me brownie points”

“Man. Journalists have a harder time than I do. For the most part and from my knowledge” Richie laughs a bit as Y/N rolls his eyes smiling. “Y’know what. Fuck it. My manager will probably drop me but it won’t be hard to get a new one. You can put out an article that I’m back. I’ll send you stuff to support it cuz fuck it right? You only live once”

“You only live once” Y/N smiles laughing a bit to that. “But as much as it would be fun. To write about a well known comedian? We live in LA and...it’s going to be a bitch finding another to support you.” He got up from the booth grabbing his bottle resting his hand on Richie’s shoulder. “You need someone to care about you other than yourself and well the ones closest to you. I’ve got your back Rich” he says making his leave.

He’s got my back.