#you and the other person I also reblogged from gave me this brain rot to

[cherry-pop-elf]

Time to also inform YOU that you also inspired me to be in the middle of writing a WinterFrost fic called “Snowflakes On My Tongue”

Take that information with what you will

Devil on my shoulder

[python333]

scary dog privileges — python333

— — — —

synopsis ur super duper scary to almost all 141 soldiers, but to price soap ghost and gaz ur just the sweetest little thing ever :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 4.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], no usage of c/n [call sign chosen for this fic is 'Cerberus'!], might sound kind of rushed/shitty :{

note normally i try not to rush fics BUT i started this at like 12 pm and as im typing this out its 11 pm and ive only written 2285 words so im kind of rushing this so i can keep up my little posting daily thing!! this idea has also been rotting in my brain for a while, so i might make a hcs thing from it, idk, but for now its just this fic!! also, thank you everyone who gave reblogged my last fic, reblogs are the best sorta motivation for a reader and i absolutely appreciate all of them :> anyway this is all fluff + comfort no hurt and has some soft!ghost in it because hes my dad and i love him so enjoy!!

The Private in front of you may as well have been pissing his pants with how scared he looked. His commanding officer, and one of your closest friends, Soap, had reported him to you for ‘insubordination’. He’d said, verbatim, when telling you about him, “I’d deal with him myself, but I’m too tired to,” so now you had to deal with one of his subordinates. 

You sighed through your nose as you looked down at the Private in front of you, the latter comically small compared to you, both physically and mentally. 

“Well?” You ask expectantly, raising an eyebrow at him, “Are you gonna tell me what happened?” The Private shakily nods and you can hear him gulp, “Right, yeah, so basically, it was earlier this morning and I was following orders and everything, doing what I was supposed to, then I accidentally interrupted Soap while he was giving me orders, which I didn’t mean to do, I swear, I just wasn’t thinking and it happened and I just— I didn’t mean to do it. And then later on, we were both—me and Soap—talking with a few other people who I guess were some higher ranked soldiers from different tactical operations and I accidentally interrupted some of them. It was—” “I’m sorry, hold on,” You put a finger up to silence him, to which he responds with immediate silence, letting you talk, “You don’t accidentally interrupt someone. Either you do it or you don’t. You don’t just slip up and interrupt your CO in the middle of him giving you orders. Secondly, always refer to Soap as ‘Captain MacTavish’, or ‘Captain’ if that’s somehow too hard for you, don’t act like you get to talk about him like you’re both all buddy-buddy and—” “Okay, but if you’d just let me finish—” The Private tries to interrupt you, making you draw your eyebrows together in confusion. “Excuse me?” You ask, mildly offended that he had the audacity to interrupt you, “Did you just interrupt me?” The Private stays silent for a moment, looking up at you, wide-eyed. His whole face looks even more stupid like this—like he doesn’t even know what he did. 

“I asked you a question, Private,” You remind him, leaning down a bit, tilting your head to the side questioningly, “Did you just interrupt me?”  “Right, yeah, I did, sorry about that—” He tries to apologize, “Didn’t mean to. Swear.” “Right,” You narrow your eyes at him, standing back up straight and crossing your arms, “Remember what I just said? About not accidentally interrupting people?” “Yeah, I do.” “Could you say ‘Yes, Lieutenant’ instead of that?” You ask, “This isn’t a casual conversation. This is one of your superiors telling you that you can’t blatantly disrespect your commanding officer, so act like it.” “Yes— Yes, Lieutenant,” The Private stammers, which really shouldn’t make your lips twitch at the corners but it does, and you have to fight off a smile, pursing your lips instead. 

“Like I was saying earlier,” You continue your words from earlier, “In conversations like these, when you’re not out doing an assignment, I don’t want to catch you referring to Captain MacTavish as just ‘Soap’ ever again. And you don’t want me to catch you doing that either, you understand?” “I understand, Lieutenant.” “Good, good,” You nod, before gesturing for the Private to keep giving you his side of the story, “Continue telling me what happened then.” “Right, so, after that, Captain MacTavish gave me some new orders, and I felt like I had a better idea of what to do than him because I’d thought of something that makes more sense than what he told me to do, so I told him as such, and he acted all shocked like I didn’t have a really good idea, and told me that I was to follow his orders not the ones I tried to give to myself so I told him that mine were better and—”

“Have you read the military regulations and codes of conduct? Ever?” You interrupt, making the Private shut up almost immediately and hesitantly nod his head affirmatively. “I really don’t believe you. Everything I’ve heard so far is a direct violation of it, I just—” You pause to give a small, humorless laugh, “You have me speechless here, really.” The Private watches nervously as you struggle to find the appropriate words to say, before you finally come up with, “Is there more that you need to tell me about?” “… Yeah,” The Private answers sheepishly, making you sigh through your nose and gesture for him to tell you the rest. He clears his throat before starting up again, “And then he said that he’s the commanding officer for a reason and that what he says goes so I said okay and did what he told me to do. Then after that whole thing, he told me to go to your office and tell you what I did.” Why do I have to do all his dirty work? “… Okay then,” You look up at the ceiling and try to think of what to do, before taking a deep breath and looking down at the Private, muttering, “Well, I appreciate that you didn’t go into my office without my permission, at least you know not to do that.” You clear your throat before speaking louder, “Let’s head into my office instead of just standing out here. This is probably violating some sort of code…” The Private nods and lets you unlock the door to your office that’s just a few steps away and walks in after you, being sure to close the door behind him. He automatically sits at the chair across from your desk and you sit down at your own chair behind your desk. 

“Right, okay, let’s see…” You dig around the drawers of your desk, before letting out a small ‘ah-ha!’ and pulling a corrective action assignment form out of one of the small drawers of your desk and setting it onto the top of your desk. You grab a pen from the small cup by your desk and write down the date on the form in your usual neat handwriting. 

You read a question on the form and look over at the Private, “Could you give me your full name, please?”

“John— John Williams,” The Private stammers again, making you raise an eyebrow.

“Your name is John-John Williams?”

“No, just John Williams, Lieutenant.” “M’kay,” You write down his name and fill out a few more things on the form before signing it off with your name and looking over at the Private once again, folding the paper in half as you do, “I’m gonna trust you to bring this to Soap, and tell him that it’s from me. You think you can do that?” “Yeah, of course,” John breathes out, grabbing the paper from you as you hand it to him. “Yes what?” “Yes— Yes, Lieutenant.” “There we go,” You sigh and lean back in your chair, “Go on and pass that to him. And tell him to send anyone else who’s being insubordinate to Ghost or something, anyone but me.” 

John simply nods and gets up, walking out your office door and making sure to close it behind him. You cap the pen you’d used and put it back in the cup where the rest of your writing utensils are, before yawning and leaning forward to rest your head on your desk when suddenly there’s a sharp knocking at your office door. You muffle a groan and wait a moment before calling out, “Come in!” You watch as your door slowly opens, making a creaking sound that hurts your ears a bit, and much to your annoyance, yet another Private is standing in your doorway, looking just as sheepish as the last. “Oh my f— you know what?” You stand up and take a deep breath to momentarily calm yourself, “Who sent you? Was it Soap?” “… Yes,” The Private answers, their voice shaky as they speak to you, the whole thing only making you more annoyed. “Where is he right now?” You ask, walking towards the door and opening it wider, towering over the much smaller Private in front of you. 

“The— the training facility.” You blink at the Private and you take another deep breath to calm yourself. “Yeah, no sh— ugh, you know what? Thank you. Just—” You look up at the ceiling and tell yourself not to snap at this poor rookie, and look back down at them, “Just follow me. I have to go yell at him.” 

“What?” The Private asks dumbly, their eyes widening a bit in surprise. You don’t bother to look over your shoulder and check that they’re following you, instead just walking out of your office, somehow hearing their footsteps even with the thundering stomping your boots made as you walked. 

You eventually made it to one of the training facilities, the only one that currently had anyone in them, and opened the door louder than you meant to. You walked in, the shaking Private behind you as you walked up to Soap and took several deep breaths to calm yourself, ignoring the several rookies that stared at you as you walked over to him. You could hear small whispers forming amongst Soap’s small platoon of soldiers, but ignored them as well, simply walking up to Soap, who finally noticed you. He turned to you and gave you a knowing grin, like he knew exactly why you were here. “Hey, L.t—” “Why have I had two Privates coming into my office telling me you sent them because you couldn’t do your damn job?” You question him immediately, ignoring the small gasp from the Private behind you, “Do you know how many CAA forms I have left? Three. Three forms. Because you can’t deal with your own rookies. If I wanted to be dealing with them, I would’ve let Price make me a CO. You know what I said when he asked me to be one? Fuck no. I said it for a reason.” 

“… Sae ye din’t want me tae report onyone else tae ye?” Soap asks, like the little shit he is, in a teasing tone. “Absolutely not.”

“Noted,” He nods, as if he understands, and gestures for the Private he’d sent to you to come back over to him, “I actually got yer message a minute ago from Williams. I think he almost shat himself.” 

“I’m kinda happy about that, honestly,” You mutter, “Everything he told me was like… a direct violation of the code of conduct and was just so stupid.” “I ken!” Soap agrees, “I swear, naebody reads the code ‘o conduct ony mair.” “I asked him if he did, and he said yes, but I know he’s lying,” You roll your eyes before adding on, “And you know what? I’ve only had issues with British people ever since you and Gaz started reporting people to me. I think that they’re just the issue.” 

“Jesus, I ken,” Soap mutters, “Fuckin’ Brits.” “Fuckin’ Brits.” You nod in agreement, before sighing and looking over at the rest of Soap’s platoon. You look back at him, “I also told Williams to actually refer to you as ‘Captain MacTavish’, so… there’s that.” “Guid, guid,” Soap nods, before clearing his throat and continuing,

“So did ye only come here tae yell at mae?” 

“Yeah.” You admit, making Soap laugh lightly.

“And yer done now?”

“… I guess,” You mutter, making him chuckle and pat you on the shoulder.

“Guid,” He says, looking over at his group of soldiers he’s meant to be training, “I think yer scarin’ my soldiers more than mae.”

“How can you tell?” You ask sarcastically, following his gaze to the rookies that were trying their best not to look like they were eavesdropping when they clearly were. “They don’t even know we’re talking right now.” Soap huffs out a small laugh, “Right, o’ course.” 

“I’m gonna head back to my office and take a quick nap,” You let Soap know, “So don’t send me anymore people. They’re stinking up my office, it’s ridiculous.” Soap raises an eyebrow at you questioningly, “Why don’t you just go to your sleeping quarters?” “Don’t tell me what to do.” Soap raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, then.” You huff out a tired breath and say, “So if anyone asks where I am, just let them know that.” You don’t wait for a response before you walk away from Soap and immediately hear whispers starting up again, but you ignore them as you walk out the door, sort of used to them at this point. You didn’t know why you were so scary to some of the lower-ranked soldiers (and even some of the higher-ranked ones), considering you never intentionally did anything to scare them. Sure, you were taller than most of them, and maybe just a bit quicker to lose your temper with people, but it was never that bad. 

You vividly remember Gaz and Soap when they both found out a majority of the soldiers that were apart of the 141 were afraid of you or at least intimidated by you, the two had said that they wanted you around more often, just hanging out with them, so that they wouldn’t get bothered as much by people for unnecessary things.

Scary dog privileges, you remember they’d said, laughing as they did. It’s actually where you’d gotten your call sign, Cerberus. 

It’s not that you hated it at all, in fact, you didn’t mind being a little scary if it meant people were less likely to bother you, it’s just that it makes it a hell of a lot harder to actually talk to people without them starting to stammer or shake.

It was one of the reasons you turned down being a commanding officer—you didn’t really like the thought of commanding a platoon of soldiers that cowered in your presence. Plus, it was getting really annoying, not being able to talk to another soldier that wasn’t Price, Soap, Ghost or Gaz without them looking like all they wanted to do was leave the conversation. 

You finally make it back to your office and let out a sigh of relief as you open the door and walk in, closing it behind you, not even bothering to lock it as you immediately walk over to the chair behind your desk and sit down in it.

You reach below your desk and pull out a nice, fluffy blanket and a fluffy pillow to go with it that you always kept in your office—just for times like this, when you felt like going to sleep in your office, for whatever reason.

Were you supposed to be napping at all? No. Would your superiors let you anyway because you’ve somehow managed to get emotionally adopted by both Price and Soap? Absolutely.

You move some of the papers cluttering your desk out of the way and set down your pillow, as well as wrapping yourself in the blanket, and sigh happily as you lay your head down onto the pillow. 

Just as you’re getting comfy, you hear a knock at the door. No. You don’t get up to answer it. You just sit there, head on your pillow, nice and comfy. In fact, you refuse to answer the door, because you’ve opened it for two other people already, and God knows who you’re gonna snap at once you open that door.

Another knock—you ignore that one too, knowing full well you told Soap to tell anyone who was looking for you that you were in your office but also knowing that you never said you’d open the door, you just said you’d be there. 

You bury your face into the pillow and scream into it, knowing the scream wouldn’t be too muffled with how loud it was, but doing it anyway. You then take a deep breath and call out, unenthusiastic and tired, “Come in!” 

You watch the door open and see Ghost step in, and you’re silent as you watch him close the door behind him and walk over to you, his century old shitty laptop in hand as he sits down in the chair in front of your desk and sets down said laptop.

You pay no mind to it, deciding you’d rather take a nap, and set your head back down on the pillow, pretending that you can’t feel Ghost’s eyes on you. “… Are you okay?” He asks, sounding a little concerned as he looks at you bury your head into your pillow, before his concern turns into confusion as he asks, “When did you get a pillow in here— you have a blanket, too?” 

“Mmph.” You don’t respond with actual words, even if you did they’d be muffled beyond relief by your pillow. You can’t see him but Ghost raises an eyebrow at you and his lips twitch into a small, amused smile. 

“What, you’ve just had those in here?” Ghost asks, knowing he’ll get nothing more than a muffled hum from you. 

“Mmph.” “Alright, then,” He mutters, “Keep your secrets.” “Mmph.” You feel too tired to bother responding with anything else. “I feel like you shouldn’t sleep in your office, considering you have your own sleeping quarters you can sleep in.” “… Mmph.” “That’s fair,” Ghost nods. You hear him opening his laptop and you hear it crack when it opens, the noise making you huff out a small laugh into your pillow. God, that thing is so old, it’s ridiculous.

“What’s so funny?” Ghost asks as he types in his password. You don’t say anything in response, which doesn’t shock him in the slightest.  You feel yourself start to get closer to sleep, but can’t get quite there, instead sort of just hanging right on the edge of sleep.

You quietly grumble in frustration and shift a bit in your seat, not knowing what the issue is. Ghost notices this and raises an eyebrow at you, but doesn’t do anything about it just yet, instead getting back to his work. Why’d he have to go into your office to do his work? Who knows.

You shift again in your seat and Ghost knows that he’s not gonna be able to focus if you keep shifting—why wouldn’t he just go to his own office?—around, so he sighs and picks up his laptop and drags the chair in front of your desk with him around to behind your desk where you are.

You lift your head up to try and see what he’s doing, confused, and see him putting his chair right next to yours and setting his laptop down onto the desk. 

Before you can ask anything, he gently puts a hand on the side of your head and guides it to rest on his shoulder, and—oh. This is much better, somehow. 

He seems to know that it’s that much better, too, because his eyes crinkle a bit, giving away the fact that he’s smiling. However, he stays silent, and keeps his hand on the side of your head for a moment before letting it fall down to the side of your forearm, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

He opens up his laptop once again and types in his password with one hand, the typing going by significantly slower than it would’ve if he used both hands, but he decides against keeping his hand off of you, seeing as it assists in helping you go to sleep.

Are you supposed to be asleep right now? Definitely not. But like mentioned before, Price wouldn’t mind. And you’d probably laugh if Soap minded, because even if he’s a Captain, he’ll always act like a little shit. Ghost knows this too, and with this information, he figures that he might as well help you sleep, since he knows exactly how to help you sleep. 

One too many nights spent pacing in your room, which eventually woke Ghost up, which led to him helping you sleep, so that he could sleep too, You sleepily remember, He always said he was annoyed by the pacing, and that’s the only reason he helped you sleep. But now, seeing what’s happening now, makes you question that a bit. Was it his annoyance, or something else? Or am I thinking too much about this?

Cutting off your train of thought is another knock at the door, and it’s not loud enough to completely snap you out of your drowsy haze but it’s enough to make you a little more aware, and for you to readjust your head your head so that your face is practically buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck. His thumb stops rubbing against your forearm, and he glares at the door like it was the door’s fault it got knocked on. 

The knocking persists and neither of you say anything, just waiting on whoever it is on the other side to give up and go away, but whoever it is must be feeling pretty determined because even louder knocks sound at the door, making you and Ghost sigh in unison.

You both continue to stay silent, hoping that whoever was on the other side just goes away, but they don’t. You don’t hear any footsteps retreating, and the knocks keep coming.  

“Hello?” You both hear Price’s voice on the other side, “Cerberus? You in there?” “Say no,” You mutter into Ghost’s neck. He nods and clears his throat. 

“Nope!” Ghost calls out in response to Price’s question. 

“… Ghost?” Price’s surprised voice comes through, “What are you doing in there?” “Say this is your office,” You murmur, making Ghost huff out a small, amused laugh and nod again. 

“This is my office,” Ghost responds, “Why wouldn’t I be here?” “What? No,” Price’s voice becomes confused, “This is Cerberus’ office.” “No it’s not,” Ghost denies, lying straight through his teeth. You laugh quietly against his neck. “Uh… but it is?” Price argues, “It has their name on the front.” “No it doesn’t,” Ghost blatantly denies, continuing his thumb’s slow circle movements on your skin, the soothing action making you hum contently. You don’t know how, but somehow your humming is loud enough for Price to hear. Does he have his ear against the door or something?

“I can hear Cerberus in there,” Price argues again, “Don’t lie to me.” “Sorry, lamb,” Ghost apologizes to you softly, tone significantly more soft than it typically is, “I think he’s caught onto us.” “… I guess it’s fine for him to come in, then,” You mumble against his neck. He responds with a nod. 

“Come in!” Ghost calls out, and almost immediately you hear the door open and Price’s loud footsteps walking in. You can’t see him, but he opens his mouth to say something, when his eyes catch on your face buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck.

He looks questioningly at Ghost, the latter simply blinking over at Price, daring him to comment on it. 

He doesn’t, and instead closes the door behind him and walks up to the desk. 

“Cerberus?” He asks. You hum offhandedly, and he takes that as a sign to continue, “You okay?” “Mhm.” “You know you can sleep in your own sleeping quarters, right?” “Mhm.” “And you’re choosing not to?” 

“Mhm.” Price blinks at you for a moment before muttering, “Alright, then,” under his breath and turning to Ghost, “And you’re here because?” “Felt like having some company,” Ghost answers simply, watching as Price glances at his thumb rubbing circles into your forearm, and continues to watch as his eyes slowly make their way up to the way your face is buried in the crook of his neck. 

Price looks at Ghost, mouthing the words, ‘I’m telling everyone about this,’ to which Ghost mouths back, ‘Don’t you dare.’ Price grins at this and opens his mouth to say something else before there’s another knock at the door. 

“Are you always this popular?” Ghost asks you, sounding both mildly annoyed and amused. 

“Mhm.” You hum affirmatively. 

Ghost sighs and he and Price call out in unison, “Come in!” The door opens and you temporarily readjust your head so that you’re just resting your head on Ghost’s shoulder with your face facing the door, and you watch as Gaz enters the room and his neutral face turns into one of both surprise and confusion. 

“Were you lot having a party in here, or something?” He asks, closing the door behind him.

“Not originally,” Ghost deadpans, watching as Gaz walks over next to Price and leans against your desk, “What’re you here for?”

“Needed an extra corrective action form,” Gaz answers. Ghost looks down at you for permission to rummage through your desk drawers and you nod.

“Second drawer to the right,” You mumble, and Ghost opens that exact one up and pulls out a CAA form, handing it over to Gaz, who takes it with a ‘thank you’ and folds it in half, stuffing it into his back pocket.

He looks between you and Ghost questioningly, and opens his mouth to say something, before Ghost gives him the same look he did to Price, and Gaz immediately snaps his mouth shut.

“If you’re tired, Cerberus, you should go to your sleeping quarters,” Price comments, tone worried. You look over at him.

“What if someone needs me, though?” You ask, slowly blinking at him.

“Kid, I don’t think anyone would get any good help from you with the state you’re in right now,” Price says honestly, ignoring the small glare you send him. “Anyone who needs you can just refer to someone else.”

You hum neutrally and sigh before muttering, “Fine,” and tentatively take your head off of Ghost’s shoulder and unwrapping the blankets you’d wrapped around yourself earlier, bundling it into a little ball and putting it into the box under your desk, putting the pillow in there as well.

You crack your knuckles quickly and get up from your seat, quickly putting your hands on the edge of your desk to steady yourself, standing up on slightly shaky legs. “I can help you get over there,” Price offers, frowning a bit when you shake your head negatively. Ghost lets out a sigh and stands up, closing his laptop before quickly walking over to you and wrapping an arm loosely around your side, over your arm, pulling you closer to him and helping you stand up a bit straighter. Gaz observes all of this with a raised eyebrow but otherwise says nothing, instead watching with Price—who watched this with disbelief in his eyes—as Ghost walked with you to the door wordlessly, opening the door and walking out of it with you, not looking back as he closes the door behind him. “You think everyone’s gonna think Cerberus is all scary after they see them leaning on Ghost trying to get back to their sleeping quarters?” Gaz asks Price, staring at the closed door. “Somehow, yeah,” Price says after a moment, still caught up in his disbelief, “That is… the strangest thing I’ve seen all day.” “It’s only thirteen, Captain.” “I don’t think anything’s gonna top that.” “Top what?” Gaz asks, a little confused, “Seeing Ghost helping out Cerberus?” “Yeah.” Gaz huffs out a laugh and pats Price’s shoulder, “Jesus, man. I’m surprised that’s the first time you’ve seen that.” Gaz ignores Price’s confused look and walks towards the door, opening and closing it as he walks out, leaving Price dumbfounded in Cerberus’ office. “Huh?”

[random-writer-23]

Welcome Home (Poe x Gn reader)

Summary: Poe's been gone on a mission for longer than he was supposed to.

Words: 1,387

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of reader not eating (not eating disorder), brief description of minor injuries, allusions to sexy time cause c'mon it's Poe you can't expect me to not slip that in.

A/n: just thought I'd try my hand at writing something short for once, this has got to be the shortest thing I've ever written, and it's still over 1k words. And it took all the strength I had in me not to turn this into a full-blown oneshot. Anyway, this is mostly unedited but my last Poe thing is doing well so I figured I would feed you more Poe content. What the public wants they shall receive. Also, I'm pretty sure I wrote this with gender neutral reader, but if y'all find something not gender-neutral, lmk so I can fix it :D But anyway let me know what y'all think of my first drabble, and I might write more in the future when I feel like I haven't published anything in a long time. And as usual, all likes, comments, reblogs, and follows are welcome and greatly appreciated Also I am still looking for beta readers so if you’re interested see the pinned post on my profile for more information. happy reading my lovelies!

I paced the floor of my room, trying to figure out something to do, I could do laundry, read a book, or make lunch. Preferably that option, I hadn't eaten a proper meal in what seemed like weeks. Just snacks when the stress got too much to handle and I didn't know what else to do. The fighter squadrons should've been back by now, they were only sent on a short recon mission, they must have run into some trouble, or worse what if they were dead? I stopped my pacing and headed to the kitchen, ready to make something to eat, I had to take my mind off the quiet in the room. I opened the conservator and looked for what we had that I could use to make something to eat. I rifled through the food I had getting more discouraged the more I looked. A sandwich would have to suffice for my meal today, and I'd also have to make a list of things I'd need to get from the market on base. I mean sure I could always go eat at the canteen but canteen food everynight gets sickening, and theres nothing like a homecooked meal. I began to hum a little tune to myself as I spread mayo on my bread. When I heard a knock at the door. 

"Who is it?" I called to the person on the other side. 

"Lucy!" the voice announced, Lucy lives in the room next to me. 

"Come in!" I told her, and the door slid open revealing her standing there, hair messed up and very out of breath. "Oh dear Lucy, what happened?" I asked her my eyes wide as I moved to get her a cup of water. "Here I'll get you some water" I told her. 

"No time" She breathed heavily, hands on her knees to stabilize herself and catch her breath. I looked at her confused. 

"wha-" 

"(y/n) they're back!" She blurted out, and I froze my brain processing what she was saying. 

"They're..." I mumbled my voice going quiet as she grabbed my hand and smiled nodding. A smile quickly made its way across my face and I laughed "They're back!" I shouted giggling, Lucy grabbed my hand. 

"well let's go!" She said turning to pull me out the door, trailing me along behind her, we ran through the base to the landing bay. Only yelling 'they're back' at the people who gave us weird looks. We sprinted giggling all the way back and once we got to the landing bay, time seemed to stop. I stopped running and Lucy ran forward to greet her girlfriend, running into her open arms with shouts of joy. I didn't have to look very long for my love. I saw him immediately, climbing down the ladder from his x wing, when his feet touched the ground, a huge crowd immediately swarmed around him, and he smiled laughing as people patted him on the back congratulating him on another successful mission. He quickly turned his attention away from the people crowding around him, his eyes searching the crowd quickly. A look of subtle panic slowly crossing his face the more he searched. Until our eyes locked and I saw his instant relief. Watched all the stress drain from his shoulders, the exhaustion he didn't let show to the others wash away. I smiled a wide smile, giggling at the goofy grin spreading across his face. He pushed through the crowd around him, and they parted easily around him. Going back to congratulating each other the second he moved past as if he wasn't even there. He finally made it through all the people, and as soon as he did, time resumed and I ran towards his open arms. Once I got to him he picked me up spinning me around laughing. He put me back down, and once my feet hit the floor, he wrapped his arms around me tightly pulling me against him desperately.  As if holding me as tight as he could, would prevent me from ever leaving his side again. And if I had the choice it would. I breathed him in,  my fist clenching around the fabric of his flight suit tightly. The tears welled up in my eyes and I blinked letting them fall. I pulled away from him for a minute looking him up and down, to make sure he wasn't visibly hurt. Just to make sure he was really there, and he wasn't some illusion my mind had come up with. I pulled his helmet off his head dropping it to the floor and grabbing his cheeks turning his head looking for any sign of injuries. He had a couple of scrapes on his face, and smeared dried blood along his brow and forehead, but other than that he was fine. I touched his face, running my fingers gently along the cuts. Once I determined he was fine, I pulled him back in hugging him close, my body shaking with sobs as I came to the realization he was back and actually standing relatively unharmed in front of me. 

"You're safe" I murmured into his chest, almost disbelievingly. 

"Of course, couldn't leave my pretty girl all by herself" He smiled lifting my head with a hand under my chin making me look up at him. He wiped away my tears with one hand, and I smiled leaning into his touch. I opened my eyes and leaned in placing a soft kiss on his lips. Gently, delicately, hesitantly, pulling away and looking up at him through my lashes. He smiled and pulled me back in for another kiss, fueling this one with more desperation, gripping my waist tightly, and moving his hand from my face to the back of my neck. I wrapped my hands around his neck tangling my fingers in his hair. Smiling against his lips, he pulled away chuckling, and leaned his forehead against mine. "Maker, I love you" He mumbled, pressing his lips against me again, pulling away quickly, "I missed you" he kissed me again. "You're so beautiful, (y/n)" another kiss. "My (y/n)" another kiss, an explosion of affection. My heart fluttered, and I giggled turning away from him to hide my flushing face. "Don't hide from me gorgeous" He mumbled into my ear, only driving me further into hiding. 

"I love you too Poe" I looked back at him, placing one last kiss on his lips before his friends ran up to us cheering and screaming. He rolled his eyes at their approach, and he stepped away from me unwillingly. Not letting me go too far as he stood next to my side pulling me close to him. Finn, Rey and BB-8, came up to us Finn pulling us all into a large group hug, blubbering about how they survived another day. I rolled my eyes pulling out of the group hug with a laugh as I felt something hitting my leg. I looked down and gave a shout of joy as BB spun in a circle joyfully having my attention. I knelt down to his level giving him a kiss as well. "I'm glad you're back BB" I smiled, and he wooped in reply. I laughed, standing back up when Poe tapped my shoulders. I looked at him with a smile and he gave me another quick kiss. Finn groaned,

"Alright, get a room you two" Rey laughed,

"but not before we get a drink from the canteen" Finn added pumping his fist, and we all cheered.

"you good to celebrate" Poe leaned close to my ear whispering the question so only I could hear him. 

"Of course, you are a hero after all" I giggled, "but let's make it quick, I want to give you a proper welcome home" I smiled slyly and his eyes widened, realizing what I meant. He perked up quickly. 

"Alright let's drink!" He cheered loudly and I laughed. He leaned down to pick up his helmet, placing it on my head and gripping my hand tightly. "Maker I'm glad to be home" He smiled. 

"Me too" I replied as we followed the cheering crowd to the canteen, hand in hand, and the weeks of stress I felt washing away, and all was right in the world once more. 

--Fin--

QOTD: What is your favourite star wars movie? Mine. is either revenge of the sith or the animated clone wars movie!

Join my discord server: https://discord.gg/9bwRmtXCuB

[clovermunson]

dating eddie munson would include…

author’s note: listen…the intrusive thoughts won, okay? so here’s this, i don’t know what else i can offer y’all at this point until i get some fics written. anyway, the only coherent thought my brain has is this man, and there are absolutely no regrets about it. first stranger things piece i’ve ever done in my life. don’t ask me why it took this long lmao anyway, enjoy this little slice of my eddie-induced brain rot . likes and reblogs are appreciated, but please do not repost my work!!—morgan🖤

tagging: @ardent-musings (since y’know…it’s your man lmao)

first off, flattery works with him (he literally said it himself), so if you call him any cute little nicknames like baby, sweetheart, love, or any other offbeat cutesy name you can come up with, and throw a sweet-sounding voice on top of it, this man will melt like ice cream on a hot summer day

he uses the money he gets from his uh…extracurricular activities to buy you little gifts. and they’re always little “i just thought you’d like this” or “i was thinking of you” gifts

he’s tried multiple times to try and teach you how to play the guitar, partially because you actually wanted to learn it, but the majority of the reason was because it gave you an excuse to be as close to him as possible

speaking of his beloved sweetheart, you’re the only person aside from him that’s allowed to touch the guitar

you sit in during corroded coffin’s band practices, listening to every song and Eddie’s been caught on several occasions losing focus on the song because he’s staring at you

he made a corroded coffin t-shirt for you, and when he gave it to you he said “it’s far from perfect, but it’s one of a kind…like both of us.” despite being so shy and slightly embarrassed by his craft skills

you thought it was absolutely perfect and you wore that shirt with pride, Eddie absolutely adored it and loved seeing you in it

you’re such a lowkey couple that people wouldn’t know you were dating unless they were told by someone else who knew

but in an odd contrast to that, pda does not bother Eddie one bit. this man will hold your hand and kiss you on the cheek or lips in front of god and everyone in hawkins

every time the resident preppy idiot Jason Carver talks trash about Eddie, you’re there to defend him; and the one time Jason talked trash about you, Eddie was on a warpath and you had to calm him down

you’re at every D&D campaign, with snacks and drinks ready for everyone, though sometimes the drinks end up getting spilled because they guys get too rowdy during the game. or because Dustin got upset over his roll being a miss

speaking of everyone’s favorite kid, Dustin jokingly refers to you and Eddie as his parents

no seriously, if Eddie lets anyone new into hellfire, Dustin’s introducing you two as his parents

“these are my parents, Eddie and Y/N.”

“Henderson.” you and Eddie both chide, almost in the same tone

“okay, they’re obviously not my real parents but they’re still pretty cool.”

you and Eddie don’t even try to deny that Dustin’s your favorite of all the kids

most wouldn’t guess it, but Eddie really takes the initiative when it comes to planning dates; and he’ll go all-out too even if it’s a simple at-home date

when you first started dating Eddie, the man couldn’t cook anything more than spaghettio’s, but he wanted to learn and you were more than happy to teach him how to cook

after that, he acted like he was the next master chef or something, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t cute

he’s also so proud of everything you do. doesn’t matter how little or big of an accomplishment, he’s just so goddamn proud

all you did was manage to get out of bed and brush your hair and teeth? doesn’t matter, Eddie’s still proud of you. you aced all your finals? Eddie’s proud. graduation? Eddie is super proud of you for that

he’s the cuddliest man ever. when the alarm goes off, he’s always saying “five more minutes…” but it turns into an hour and you’re both almost late to wherever you need to be

road trips with Eddie are a must, even if it’s just a quick getaway to the next town over, he always makes them so fun and picks out the best music

despite him being a metalhead, he actually does enjoy the cheesy pop songs you share with him…just not publicly

you think he made you your own hellfire shirt? wrong, he gave you one of his and he absolutely loves it when you wear it anywhere

he definitely made mixtapes for you, sure it’s full of songs from the likes of iron maiden, metallica, motörhead, dio, mötley crüe, black sabbath, you know all of his favorite bands that he loves to share with you, but he sprinkles a few cheesy love songs in there too and it’s adorable

he lets you wear his rings whenever you want, you don’t care if they’re too big on you because you’d never lose them anyway

eventually, he gives you his mood ring as a promise ring

and he apologizes profusely that he couldn’t afford an actual ring for you but you don’t care about that because Eddie actually cared enough to put thought into it and give you his ring

“i’m sorry i couldn’t go buy you a fancy ring, sweetheart…but i want you to have mine, if you’ll take it?” he’d sheepishly offer, hoping that you’d accept

“Eddie, you don’t have to buy me a big fancy ring or anything at all, even. i’d rather have your ring…it means more to me than anything you could buy in a jewelry store.”

this man was so happy that his heart was practically doing backflips and cartwheels when you accepted his ring

he’s literally just the proudest, happiest boyfriend he could possibly be

ugh, someone get me an Eddie, pls😩

[bukojuiice]

What happens when the bakusquad babysits Katsuki’s daughter? (Dad! Katsuki Bakugo x Mom! Reader) Headcanons + One-shot

ೃ pairing: (dad! katsuki bakugo x mom! reader)

ೃ  warnings: none

ೃ genre: fluff overload, parent fic/hcs

ೃ word count: 5,141 words

ೃ 1/4 of @bukojuiice’s 800 followers special!

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ   A  sequel in the form of headcanons + one-shot to my dad! Bakugo fic “like the soul of honey” I recommend reading that first before going through this! Don’t worry if you don’t want to though! Both are standalone and not really connected with each other. 

ೃ   This was originally just going to be headcanons, but I didn’t want to keep writing it in hcs style halfway through so be treated to both headcanons + a one-shot instead! as you can tell already, this was so so much fun to write and i felt so soft after writing this uwu

ೃ  shoutout to two of my loves @sparkykatsuki for coming up with this idea!  I just knew i had to do it bc i love bakusquad sm!! they give me such a serotonin boost and I find it really fun writing about them!! Thank you for having such big brain energy and for conspiring this concept franz!  And to @chibishae34​ bc i know she loves baby fics as much as I do HSHSHSH

ೃ   your daughter’s name is hikari which means light. bakugo thought of that name because light is essentially a part of his quirk and hikari is a part of him.

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!) ♡

—  Hikari is blessed with the best uncles and aunts she could ever ask for!!

—  Both Bakusquad and Dekusquad take turns in helping you and Katsuki get your well deserved rest and relaxation at least once a month ever since Hikari turned 6 as... she became quite the feisty girl. Too feisty to handle actually.

—  She was energetic and playful 24/7. And so, it was hard to keep up with her energy most of the time.

—  She still remained kind and obedient yet she was also an absolute bundle of joy who would just run around the house, play with her toys, and go on roleplaying adventures with you and Katsuki. She had absolutely no idea how much she would tire you and Katsuki, however, and sometimes she would go on for hours and hours just running around the house and interacting with everything she sees.

—  She had an inquisitive mind, and although you always encourage her to be smart and be intrigued with everything, she tends to question almost everything she lays her eyes on and you end up having to come up with a witty and a very childlike answer for her to understand.

—  A good example of this is when she asked you ever so innocently about where babies come from and your husband was ABOUT TO TAKE HER QUESTION LITERALLY and give her the science talk about sexual reproduction. When the two of you agreed to only give her that talk when she turns 8 as she might not even entirely understand it in the first place.

—  “Mommy, Daddy, where do babies come from?”

—  “I guess it’s time for the talk.” Bakugo shrugs, remarking sternly. He takes his daughter’s little hand in his and bringing her to the living room. “You see, Hikari, babies come from the wo-”

—  “Storks!” You cut Bakugo off before he could say another word, nudging him on the elbow. “Hikari-chan, the babies are brought down to this world by the white and strong birds in the sky!” You whisper the last bits of information to her ear. “The storks told me that once you get older, they’ll tell you the secret of where they actually pick up the babies.”

—  “Really!?” She says in disbelief, her eyes gleaming in excitement. “YAY! YAY! YAY! I can’t wait!” She goes back to running around the house looking for even more things to ask about and you breathe a sigh of relief as soon as she leaves.

—  Although it was nice that you are able to bond as a family, it does get pretty tiring sometimes. Of course your weariness is worth the risk if it’s just to see Hikari smile.

— Especially since you and Bakugo were both pro-heroes (although you mostly do stand by pro hero work meaning you work from home almost all the time.) You found it much more enriching if both you and bakugo are guiding her and working together to create a loving and supportive family for Hikari.

— Both of your respective friend groups, whomst you remained close to ever since high school, noticed how the both of you looked tremendously exhausted and looked like you were in dire need to have 9 cups of coffee every time you would meet up with each other in between your pro hero duties.

—  And so both squads came into an agreement, that they would help the two of you out by giving you a 48 hour day off every month to do whatever the heck married couples do as they would babysit Hikari and have fun.

—  This was also a great way to get closer with their niece even if they dote on her so much already.  As you and Bakugo are the first persons in your friend groups who got married and have a child together.

—  This month, the Bakusquad is in charge of taking care of Hikari and just from the fact that Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina and Sero are going to babysit your daughter alone, you know it’s going to be chaotic.

—  Things didn’t go swimmingly last time (literally), as only Kirisihima and Kaminari were the only ones available the last time they came to babysit. They took Hikari to a community pool, and she came back with a missing tooth and some scratches on her legs from playing too much. Katsuki was NOT pleased and you had to restrain your husband from trying to obliterate his best friends even if Hikari had little to no injuries and it was normal for kids her age to have these things happens to them at least once in their childhood.

—  With your assurance and the look that was on Hikari’s face and how she would not shut up about how she loved spending time with Uncle Eijiro and Uncle Denki, Katsuki eventually let it slide and just gave his friends the usual “Katsuki Bakugo treatment” where he acts cold and angry at them, paired with his easily irritated and idgaf attitude.

—  This month however, was going to be different because Mina and Sero are finally joining along and making sure that Hikari has the best weekend since they weren’t able to babysit last time.

—  Hikari loved her Aunt Mina because she would braid her hair and style her with different cute outfits that only Mina, with her love for fashion and all things girly and pink could attempt to do and end up doing perfectly. She also taught Hikari all the dances to disney songs and nursery rhymes she knows how to do so far. Hikari affectionately refers to her Aunt Pinkie whenever Mina isn’t around.

—  Kirishima, who was the most frequent to visit the 3 of you, out of all of the Bakusquad, considers Hikari as his new #1 best friend. Dethroning and kicking her very own father from that spot. Hikari is a much more gentle and sweet version of her explosive father, and so Eijiro is able to interact and play with Hikari because he already knows Bakugo and his mannerisms very well. Hikari calls him Uncle Sharkie and she always asks her dad about how he and Kirishima became such good friends. To which Katsuki would reply with, “It’s a long story princess.”

—  Kaminari was the fun uncle. He always gave off those vibes ever since high school anyway. Giving Hikari candy behind Katsuki’s back (although you made sure Kaminari didn’t give her any that were tooth rotting sweet ones) Buying her ice cream whenever he came to drop by, and bringing her to the nearby playground amongst many other things. He spoils her a lot (in a good way) and Hikari calls her the fun “sparkie” uncle.

— Then, there was Sero. He retained his love for Spiderman since he was a kid, and he was able to pass that on to Hikari. His way of playing with her was cute since Sero is super tall, he would let Hikari ride on his shoulders, trying to imitate airplane noises as they would “fly” around the house. He gifted Hikari some child-friendly comic books for you and Katsuki to read to her before. bed. Although she never fails to say that the best heroes are her mommy and daddy. She calls Sero her Uncle Spidey.  

—  Uncle Sharkie, Uncle Sparkie, Aunt Pinkie, and Uncle Spidey. The Holy Quaternity.

(One-shot starts below this!)

“AUNT MINA! UNCLE EIJIRO! UNCLE DENKI! UNCLE SEROOO!” Hikari rushes to the door as soon as she hears the doorbell ring, she jumps into Eijiro’s arms and the red-haired pro hero twirls her around. The rest of the Bakusquad forms a circle around her, and can’t help but look at her adoringly.

“How’s my little ball of sunshine!?” Mina squeezes Hikari’s cheekies, earning giggles from the little girl. “I’m fine Aunt Mina! I mished chu!” She begins to talk in a cute accent as she just can’t contain her excitement.

“Hikari-chan! Do you still remember our little handshake?” Sero kneels down to the little girl’s height, offering her his hand. The little girl nods, shakes it and their thumbs twiddle together, as if they were thumb wrestling. They do a few more quirky hand shakes and then end it with a bang by saying “BOOM!” Sparks suddenly fly out from Hikari’s hands, her aunt and uncles coo since noticing how much her quirk has developed ever since they started babysitting.

“Okay you two!” Mina turns to you and Katsuki, as she had noticed you had some distinct luggage packed for a quick hot spring getaway, she practically pushes the two of you out of the door when Katsuki stops in his tracks, turning to his friends.

He glares at them and points his fingers to his eyes in a “I’m watching you” type of gesture. “Not one single scratch on her or all of you are dead to me.”

Kaminari laughs, patting his friend on the back, “We gotchu buddy. Your little ball of sunshine is safe in our hands. She’ll have the best time with us!”

Hikari quickly runs to you and Katsuki, giving you both a tight hug. “We love you Hikari. We’ll just be gone for two days oki? Your uncles and your aunt here will keep you safe this weekend alright? We love you!” You peck her lightly on the cheek, a pout forming on your daughter’s face.

“I’ll miss you Mommy. Daddy.” She doesn’t let go, hugging the two of you even tighter. “I loaf you! See you soon!”

“Be a good girl okay Hikari?” Katsuki kneels down to meet his daughter’s eyes, orbs that were as passionate as his, planting a kiss on her forehead. “We’ll miss you kiddo.”

You could hear Kaminari and Sero silently snicker in the background since they still can’t wrap their head around the fact that their friend could become so soft when in front of his child as opposed to his usual rough demeanor he shows to everyone else.

Katsuki wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tightly, with you dragging along the luggage that the two of you were going to bring on this trip. You bid your final goodbyes with ease and relief, knowing that your daughter will be in “safe hands” the entire weekend.

“We’re going to have so much fun!” Mina squeezes Hikari and the rest of the  Bakusquad into a hug. “What do you want to do first Hikari-chan?”

“Oh! Um! I don’t know if I should ask this b-but..” The blonde little girl hides her hands in her pockets, her feet tapping the floor. “I actually want to know how Mommy and Daddy met! Not the marry or the lovey thing! Just how they met and fell in love!”

“Hikari-chan!! You’re so cuteeeeeeee!” Kaminari begins to weep crocodile tears, pulling Hikari into another hug. “If that’s what you want to do for today, then we’ll gladly tell the story of how your mom and dad met!”

The Bakusquad formed and sat in a circle on the floor. Hikari was sitting on Mina’s lap as the latter braided her hair into what was called a Fishtail braid. Kirishima, with the help of Sato, baked some chocolate chip cookies a few days ago for all of them to snack on while they babysit Hikari.

Sero clears his voice and begins the story. “Your mom and your dad met each other in High School. Along with all of us and your Uncle Izuku, Uncle Tenya, Uncle Shoto, Aunt Ochaco, Aunt Tsuyu-” He continues to recall the names of all the other people Hikari know and love. “They were total opposites actually.”

“O-opposithes?” Hikari tilts her head, a puzzled look on her face as she tries to process what her Uncle Sero had just said. “D-does that mean that Daddy didn’t like Mommy?”

“It’s not like that Hikari-chan. Don’t worry.” Kirishima saves Sero from making the little girl misinterpret what he had just said, nudging his raven-haired friend in the arm. “It’s just that your dad was hot-headed and angry all the time, but he fell in love with your mom because she was sweet, patient and understanding!” Kirishima reiterates, a soft look on his face, looking back on the sweet sentimental memories of high school. “They were perfect for each other!”

“Oh! So daddy was angy all the time? Since mommy is really nice she told Daddy to be nice and they fell in love!?”

Mina giggles, continuing to style Hikari’s hair. “Yes Hikari-chan. That’s exactly what happened! You’re so good!”

“I am!?” Yay!” She claps her hands together, a wide smile present on her face, she was becoming more and more intrigued. “Tell me more please!”

“Well...” Kaminari continued where Kirishima had left off, “Your mom and dad got closer because they got teamed up to fight our pro hero teacher for our exam! They fought and they had a hard time talking to each other but they passed the exam in the end! It was hard at first. Your dad kept on telling us that he didn’t like your mom in a lovey way but we kept on pushing him until he accidentally said that he liked her! Your mommy heard what he said and then she told him that she liked him too!”

“F-fight? I thought Daddy only fights bad guys...” Her voice begins to crack as if she was about to cry. The Bakusquad were about to speak up and explain but failed to because as soon as Mina was done braiding her hair, Hikari immediately stands up and bows politely to the four adults. “I’m going to play with Mr. Rilakkuma for a while. See you later!” She grabs a cookie from the plate and rushes into her room, locking the door behind her.

“See you later Hikari-chan!” Kaminari waves cluelessly, not realizing what he had just said that prompted Hikari to leave the room in the first place. Mina stands up on her knees, shooting him a glare and flicking his forehead, “Did you not realize what you just did!?”

“Ahh what did I do!?” He rubs the spot on his forehead that Mina had just hit, and looks at his two other friends for a clue as to why they were ganging up with him.

“I guess Chargedolt will always be Chargedolt.” Sero shrugs, shaking his head in disappointment.. “Hikari misinterpreted what you said. She thinks that Bakubro used to fight (Y/N) like she’s a villain or something back when we were in High School.”

“WAIT! OBJECTION! SHE MISINTERPRETED YOUR STORY FIRST-”

“Guys. Guys. There’s nothing we can do about it. Both of you slipped, so let’s give Hikari-chan some space first then talk to her later.” Kirishima cuts Kaminari off before he and Sero would start an argument,  which would prompt Hikari to further think more negative thoughts.

“(Y/N) said that Hikari-chan’s been liking Tonkotsu Ramen recently, so I think it’s best if all of us help out in cooking her favorite comfort food to cheer her up.” Mina sighs deeply, crossing her arms. She heads straight to the kitchen without uttering another word, the three other guys follow suit.

After several hours, it was finally night time and time for dinner! At the orders of Mina, Sero and Kaminari came to pick up Hikari from her room.

Sero knocked softly. “Hikari-chan? It’s time for dinner!”

“We cooked your favoriteee Tonkatsu Ramen!” Kaminari added in a playful voice.

No reply.

“Hikari-chan?” Sero knocks again, a bit louder this time. He then turns to Denki and whispers, “Maybe she’s asleep?”

Before the two men were to retreat and go back to the living room, the door to the little girl’s room was unlocked with a long click, as if there was hesitance..

Denki quickly turns the knob to be surprised at the sight of Hikari... packing her clothes into a cute backpack?

“Hikari-chan! W-what are you doing?” Kaminari runs to her, trying to stop her from folding her clothes.

“I’m going to go see Mommy and Daddy! I’ll go take a bus and find them!” She wipes the tears streaking down her cheeks, sniffing her nose while attempting to stuff her teddy bear inside her backpack. “Daddy took Mommy so that they’re going to fight aren’t they!? I don’t want that!”

“No no no no no Hikari. It’s not like that!” Kaminari wipes the little girl’s tears with a handkerchief, he gestures Sero to call Kirishima and Mina whilst he tries to comfort the girl. “Your dad took your mom out because today is their lovey anniversary! It wasn’t because they were going to fight!”

“Ah! Owkay!” Hikari suddenly raises her head, taking the handkerchief from Denki and wiping her tears.  “Can I visit Daddy and Mommy then!?”

“O-oh well...”

“Of course we can go Hikari-chan!” Kirishima barges in, Sero and Mina close behind him. “Let’s surprise them!”

“Yay! Surprising them! I love surprises!” The little girl jumps up and down in her place. “What time do we go!? What time do we goooo!?”

“After dinner you little cutie.” Mina smiles at the younger Bakugo’s sudden shift in mood. “We cooked your favorite Tonkotsu Ramen!”

“AH! TONKOTSU RAMEN TONKOTSU RAMEN!” Hikari wiggles her arms, slightly pushing the adults out of the way and runs out of her room, Sero catches up to her, only to find her sitting properly on the dining table. “I’m ready to eat now! Just waiting for all of you!” She shouts from outside.

“She’s absolutely fricking adorable.” Kaminari remarks. “But Kiri.. are you serious? We’re actually going all the way to a prefecture and bring her to her parents? Isn’t our job supposed to be keeping her here while they rest and relax in the onsen?”

“W-well... It’s not like we can do anything about it right?” Eijiro shrugs off Denki’s concern, holding on to a stress ball that Hikari had in her room. “She’ll be moping around and going back to overthinking about what her parents are doing right now. We’ll take her there and besides, once we do get there, (Y/N) and Bakugo already had a day’s worth of rest. And I think it’s time for us to take Hikari on a road trip and have fun with her!”

“Uncle Eijiro.. Aunt Mina... Uncle Denki... what’s taking you so long?” Hikari yawns and rubs her eyes, still holding on to her chopsticks. “The ramen is going to get cold...”

“Oh no! It is!?” Mina reacts quickly, taking Hikari’s hand and leading her to the table. “Let’s get there before Elsa makes it even colder!”

“NOOOOOO!! Elsa’s going to do that!? Whyyyyyy!?”

“Let’s just hope that this isn’t a repeat of what happened when we took her to the community pool.” Kaminari shakes his head, recalling the past event. “Bakugo almost killed us if it weren’t for (Y/N).”

“I don’t think it will. Besides, Sero and Mina will be with us, so the more the merrier!”

Oh and the merrier it was.

“HAKUNA MATATA! WHAT A WONDERFUL PHRASE!” Bakusquad along with Hikari, sing in unison. Bopping along to the iconic song from Lion King.

“IT MEANS NO WORRIES! FOR THE REST OF YOUR DAYS!” Hikari belts out, the others clapping along to her singing, doing their best to hype her up

Kirishima was singing Timone’s lines, Kaminari was singing Pumba’s, Sero and Mina were the background vocals and and Hikari was singing Simba’s lines.

It was 6 am in the morning and they were finally on the road and on the way to a Hot Springs Resort in Chiba Prefecture, where you and Bakugo were staying in for the weekend.

Kirishima was driving the SUV that he immediately bought when he got his first Pro Hero paycheck, Denki was riding shotgun, and Hikari was seated at the middle squeezed in by both Mina and Sero.

Disney Songs were set to be played for the entire morning to tire out Hikari and so that she can sleep peacefully and rid Bakusquad of the slight annoyance they will receive when she asks “Are we there yet?” every 2 minutes.

Denki had unfortunately messed up the spotify playlist that Jiro had given him, and the piano opening of A Thousand Miles begins to play.

“OMG IT’S OUR SQUAD SONG!” Mina’s eyes lit up as soon as the well-known piano keys blared out from the speakers. “MAKING MY WAY DOWNTOWN, WALKING FAST, FACES PASS AND I’M HOMEBOUND!”

The iconic part before the chorus begins to play and the boys sing along, “AND I NEED YOU! AND I MISS YOUUU!” They shake their shoulders to the beat, and Hikari giggles along.

“CAUSE YOU KNOW I’D WALK A THOUSAND MILES IF I CAN JUST SEE YOU TONIGHTTTTT.” Bakusquad sings dramatically in unison, raising their hands up high and just vibing to the beat.

“Hikari-chan! You should totally hear your dad sing this! He loves this song!” Mina turns to the little girl who continued to laugh at how chaotic her aunt and uncles were being. “Really!? I want to learn it then so that Mommy and Daddy would know that I can be a singer too!”

The song ends and yet everyone else was still vibing. After the current song, the hype and the energy has died down and Hikari is fast asleep on Mina’s lap and her feet were lying on a pillow that was placed on Sero’s lap.

“She really is a spitting image of both (Y/N) and Bakugo. They’re really great parents.” said Sero, who wanted to break the silence and keep the atmosphere lively.

“My mind is still shook over the fact that Bakubro would turn so soft every time he’s in the same room as his daughter. It’s a complete 180 on his personality, and I really wanna tease him about it when we finally get the chance.” Kaminari interjects. “Do you think Bakugo would get mad when we arrive there?”

“Trust me on this guys.” Kirishima says casually, stepping on the gas pedal, as they go up the highway. “Bakugo won’t. In fact, I think both he and (Y/N) would be delighted to see their daughter travel for 180 miles just because of a misunderstanding.”

♡

“Suki-kun... do you think I should call up Mina to ask how Hikari’s doing?” You reach for your phone on the bedside table. “It’s 6 AM maybe Hikari forgot to drink her gummmy vitamins-”

“She’s going to be fine.” Katsuki murmurs in his bedhead voice, turning to your side of the bed to spoon you and nestle his head on your neck. “I trust Kirishima and the others.”

“This is surprising. You’re very casual about this now. What happened to your skepticism? Weren’t you too worried about how they were going to babysit Hikari after the pool incident?”

“To hell with that. If Hikari loves them, and they love her back just as much, might as well just roll with it. They’re my friends anyway and it’s better than Ilda scolding her for eating 4 M&Ms at 9 in the evening.”

You chuckle, holding his hands that were wrapped around your waist. “That’s harsh but you got a point. Although Hikari loves my friends and yours equally, they do think of Hikari as a little Bakugo so, they’re able to connect with her more.”

“What time do the private mixed gender hot springs open up again?” He grumbles suggestively and you giggle. “They open at 9 am. Should I reserve that time slot?”

“You should.” He growls but before you could even reply, he falls back to sleep.

♡

“WE’RE HERE!” Kirishima announces, waking Kaminari, Mina and Sero up from their sleep.

“W-what if this isn’t the right onsen?” Denki yawns, looking around to take in the view.

“I asked (Y/N) last night where they were staying. This is the place! She even gave me their room number for some reason.” Mina stretches her arms then pats Hikari on the forehead lightly. “Hikari we’re here...”

The little girl slowly opens her eyes, sitting up, then looks out the window.

“HOT SPRINGS! ONSEN!” She hastily tidies up her backpack and gets down the car as soon as Sero opens the door.

“Hikari-chan! Wait for us first!” Sero runs after her, making sure she doesn’t get too far.

“It’s 9 AM... I wonder if those two lovebirds are awake already.” Kaminari looks at the watch on his wrist, as he brings down their stuff from the trunk of the car.

“I looked this place up last night. It’s a family friendly hot springs resort, but it’s famed for it’s private mixed gender onsen. I wonder why though...” Mina mused, helping Denki out with bringing their stuff down.

Kirishima gets out of the car and bobs his head up as soon as he heard what Mina had said. He looks at Kaminari trying to tell him something through his stare. The mustard-haired man’s eyes widened when he realized why Kirishima was looking at him, then he turns to Mina who finally realizes what the mixed gender onsen meant.

“Oh.”

They enter the beautiful and lush resort, spotting Sero and Hikari who were sitting near the reception area, waiting for their reservation and for the rooms to be confirmed.

“Can’t believe we had to pay double the price for a standard room.” Kaminari pouts, whispering to Kirishima as the red-haired man hands him over the credit cards of each of his friends and then he hands it over to the concierge. He notices how excited Hikari looked and couldn’t help but smile.

As soon as the reservation was confirmed, Bakusquad and Hikari were able to check in immediately. Mina takes Hikari to her room while the three other boys were sharing their room with each other.

“Hikari before you can surprise your parents, you have to wear this Yukata first okay?” Mina helps fasten the bath robe on Hikari, but the little girl can’t help but be energetic and start dancing in her place. “Have you memorized the A Thousand Miles chorus already to sing to your mommy and daddy?”

“I have!”

Mina takes Hikari outside, the other boys were already out too and were wearing their bath robes.

“I saw (Y/N) enter this onsen. Maybe that’s where she and Bakugo are in? Should we take Hikari there?” Kaminari asks his three other friends, sipping on a fruit-flavored ramune, and handing one to Hikari.

“Yes please! I want to see Mommy and Daddy as soon as possible and then surprise them!” She sips on her ramune, looking at her aunt and uncles pleadingly, begging them to bring her there.

♡

“I could have sworn I heard Kaminari-kun’s voice outside.” You tell Katsuki, closing the screen door to the open air bath. You were holding a plate full of sliced Watermelon. Your robe was still on and you wanted to eat something first before getting in.

“Tch. Probably just your imagination.” Bakugo breathes a sigh of relief, slipping in further in the hot water. “I could get used to something like this every month.”

“Oh really?” You raise your eyebrow, and lick your lips. “Could you get used to-”

“If I could fall into the sky, do you think time would pass us ByYYY?”

You jolt up at the sweet and all too familiar voice that was echoing from the outside. Before you could even react properly, someone knocks on the door to reveal...

“Mommy! Daddy!”

“Hikari!?”

She jumps to you and pulls you into a tight hug. “I missed you so much! I thought you and Daddy were fighting that’s why you left!”

“Fighting!?” You look back and forth to Bakusquad then to your daughter. “Of course not! Why would we-”

“Uncle Sewo and Uncle Denki told me that you guys would always fight when you were in school! That’s why I thought that-”

“They did... what?” Bakugo’s tone becomes slightly irritated at the mention of Kaminari and Hanta’s name. The Bakusquad were about to face death and the consequences until...

“Oh! But! They also taught me a song today! It’s called A Thousand Miles! They said it was Daddy’s favorite!” She then turns to her father with such admiration in her eyes as she begins to sing the chorus. “Cause you know I’d walk a thousand miles just to see youuu~”

“Nice one sunshine. Did you learn that for me?” He gestures Hikari to approach him, ruffling her hair as she kneels down to peck him on the cheek. “I did!”

“It’s your favorite song! So, I also traveled a thousand miles to see you and Mommy!”

“Not necessarily a thousand miles, dear. But you’re close enough! You still traveled to see us! Yay!” You clap at the genius remark your daughter had made. You turn to the Bakusquad, nodding your head at them and smile. “Thank you for taking care of Hikari and bringing her here just because she wanted to. We’ll see you later at lunch?”

“Of course! Of course!” Mina waves goodbye, a tired but loving smile formed on her face. “We had a fun time with Hikari and we just couldn’t help but bring her here. But, you have Kiri to thank for all of this though!”

“No, I shouldn’t get all of the credit. This is a Bakusquad group effort, if Kaminari and Sero didn’t slip and if Hikari didn’t misunderstand their words, then we wouldn’t be here in the first place.” Kirishima cuts Mina off in a respectful way. He claps his hands together and pulls your other friends out of the room. “See ya guys later!”

“Thanks guys.” Bakugo nods generously to his friends. It was something he didn’t always do, but when he does, well, it’s worth seeing.

“Bye Uncle Sharkie, Aunt Pinkie, Uncle Sparkie and Uncle Spidey!” Hikari waves goodbye jovially, not realizing that she just called them the affectionate nicknames that she’s too embarrassed to say in front of them.

The four laugh at the little girl’s slip-up and they leave the hot springs in good spirits.

After that wonderful weekend, you explained to Hikari about why you’re taking a rest every month in the first place. She didn’t quite get the concept at first but after a little bit more of explaining, she came up with the idea that the two of you get four rest days in a month. One weekend just for you and Katsuki then the other weekend is for the three of you and if any of the Bakusquad or Dekusquad would want to come along.

It was the perfect agreement and if Hikari was going to grow up in an environment where she had the best aunts and uncles in the universe, then she’s going to grow up to be a great kid. Just like the adults in her life once were.

The End.

[candyopala]

Stuck in his ways, Chapter 5

Chapter Summary:  Y/N’s training begins, but not before she discovers one of Obito’s secrets.

Words: 1.7k

AO3

Please reblog or like if you enjoy, comments are always welcome <3

5:30 in the morning. It is the sixth time Y/N has woken up. This whole concussion thing has messed up her whole sleeping schedule, she tried her best to get some rest, but to no avail. She ended up sleeping for about fourteen or fifteen hours between small intervals, but she feels worse than before. 

Y/N drags herself out of bed, makes some coffee, and brushes her teeth, the whole deal. Having a constant roof above her head is nice, she has to admit that. Not having to worry about wild animals and the climate is cool, but the warmth of a bed is the best part of it. Tying her brand new bandana on her forehead, she leaves the small apartment and heads to the training grounds on the outskirts of the village.  

She makes her way through the village’s main market, trying to avoid stumbling onto the hundreds of busy people bustling around her. Watching people attend to their duties and following their routines has always been a hobby of hers, she always found interest in seeing people who can afford to do the same thing every day, have some sort of routine. Can she consider herself one of them now? No, maybe not. Ninjas are always doing different missions and whatnot; their routines are as fucked up as a merc’s. Maybe she can become a baker in another life, who knows? 

Around the corner, a hand blocking her way surprises her. At the end of it is a medium height man with his hair tucked into some sort of fabric, with bits of brown hair coming out of the sides. The man holds a toothpick between his lips, accompanied by a smug smile and an attitude that instantly annoys Y/N. 

“’Sup babygirl, how come I’ve never seen you around?”

“I’ve been busy for the last 26 years”

“Busy living in my dreams, I bet”

“Busy fucking you mom, actually”

The sleazy type is the worst in Y/N’s opinion. Nothing disgusts her more than someone who thinks they’re hot shit just because they’re attractive. She pushes him away and keeps on walking.  

“Ouch! Feisty, I like that. I’ll remember ya!” he states as he leaves the scene with a wink and a flick of his toothpick. 

This has to be a joke, what a douchebag.

Going back on her way and observing the people, she closes into a mass of messy short black hair. The man has his back turned to her, but by the jonin vest and height, she assumes it could be… no, wait… it could not be! This man is helping an old lady carry a shitload of groceries, he would never be nice enough to do that. 

Could it be him!?

From afar, she changes angle to try and catch a glimpse of his face. After much difficulty dodging busy locals, she is able to see clearly and… it’s Obito! Obito Uchiha helping a poor old lady carry her stuff, I wish I had a camera on me. She thinks of approaching him, but she decides against it in favor of watching from a distance to see where this goes. 

Turns out the frail woman lives on the other side of town. Obito sure enough has carried all that stuff through the worst climbs Y/N has ever seen on a city. But that was not all: he was being extra nice. He laughed at all her jokes and even smiled back at her. This is grade A entertainment. 

When they finally reach her destination, the old lady pulls out a lollypop and gives it to him. Y/N immediately loses her shit, almost falling from the ceiling she is in because of her fit of laughter. Before she can compose herself, she notices a presence behind her. She was discovered, but who cares? She has seen enough. Obito towers above her, trying to look intimidating, but failing to do so since he has a lollipop on his mouth. 

“First you invade my house, now you’re following me. Are you sure I’m the one who should be called a creep?”

“Well, you’re right. Maybe I’ll start calling you… Granny Simp Uchiha©, how about that?”  

“I hate you”

“Ow, I’m so hurt, oh my god, how could you? But seriously, I didn’t mean to intrude, but when I saw that… I needed to see more to believe it” She states as she breaks into another fit of laughter

“Let’s go, we’re late for training”

“Have you ever been on time a day of your life, though?”

“Never, I’ll probably be late for my own funeral”

“Fair enough. Wait, did you just make a joke that’s not on my expense?”

“Oh no, your dumbassery is influencing me!” He raises his gloved hands ironically

“Shut up”

 ~”~

 They both reach the training grounds at around 7:30, late but not a whole lot, thanks to Obito’s kamui. Obito will have to make some slight modifications on the mission report to avoid Minato’s wrath. After a quick warmup, Obito goes straight to the point: 

“How much do you even know about jutsu?”

“Well… I can do that chakra punch, maybe walk on water and trees or release genjutsu, but that’s all.”

“Not even a clone or some substitution jutsu?”

“Nope”

“So you’re basically an academy student with enough brute force to take down S rank criminals… That’s… odd”

Y/N scratches the back of her head, clearly embarrassed by her lack of training. Obito did not expect to have to teach such basic things. I mean, if he wanted to teach people stuff he would have signed up for a job at the academy. He still cannot believe Minato sensei is putting him up to this babysitting job. 

He needs to do well on this mission if he wants to get back onto the Hokage’s good side and guarantee his position as the next one. This is his second day with Y/N and things have been insane and… fun? No, he should not be thinking like that. Perhaps he should also go talk with Kushina and ask her to convince sensei to let him go from this one; he was always her favorite after all.

“Granny simp? You ok? Did I disappoint you that much?”

Obito fixes his bandana’s position over his left eye, trying to get himself out of his head. He is here now, so he had better get to work. If he can control himself enough not to put her under a nasty genjutsu for calling him that again, that is. 

“Call me that again and I’ll tell everyone that you saw me naked”

“You were not naked, dickhead. And what’s wrong with that?”

“Uhm…?”

“…?”

“Anyway… we’ll start with some cloning jutsu. Have you ever done any seals?”

“Only one or two”

“Try to copy what I’m doing”

“Hey! Stop doing it so fast!”

She honestly seems to be giving her best, but her hand signs are not quite right and the chakra distribution on her network must be all wrong, judging by her failure in producing something that seems to be remotely human. This takes Obito’s memory back to his old academy days, back when he could not do a single clone properly. He would spend whole nights awake training to achieve something passable. Rin helped him a lot back then. The only thing he has ever taught someone was that sexy jutsu to Naruto. To say Kushina was mad was an understatement. 

“Concentrate your chakra all along your body, not only on your hands”

“Hum… right, can I get a lollipop after this?”

Four hours later and Y/N has finally mastered two basic jutsu: substitution and cloning. She almost passed out several times due to exhaustion, but thanks to some food pills, she is enduring todays training much better. 

Obito has been analyzing her every movement with his sharingan. Looking closely her techniques lack grace, truly a sign of someone who learned everything they know by experience. He needs to fix that too. 

Her endurance is also remarkably low. If she were to fight right now, she could do maybe two or three jutsu before passing out, making her rely solely onto her speed and blade habilities. The girl is more of a samurai than a ninja at this point. Examining her file earlier, he noticed that her chakra reserves are not that low as she has stated before, according to the medical department she has an average quantity of it. She just lacks the ability to use it properly.  

Some very hard work is in order; it could take some months to get her into decent shape. That would be too much time and effort for Obito, there has to be another way of dealing with this mission quicker. 

He did not want to do this, but he will have to talk to Kakashi for some teaching tips. Hell, if he was able to teach anything useful to Naruto he will be able to come up with a routine to help Y/N’s training. 

I just hope he doesn’t decide to bother me about this situation…

After dropping Y/N on her house, with much protest from her part, Obito heads to the village’s café to meet with Kakashi Hatake. He knows that the ninja likes to spend his late afternoons reading his porn books accompanied by some coffee, disgusting stuff if you ask Obito. The coffee, that is. He has no formed opinion on porn books.

Approaching the store, he spots his friend’s mass of upward pointing grey hair. Something is different about him, though. Kakashi is usually… a very apathetic person. The look he gave Obito had chills running the Uchiha’s spine, he looked, well, excited. 

“Obito! I finally found you! Sit down”

Aliens killed him and this is a body double. Or this is one of Gai’s practical jokes. Obito is honestly stumped.

“Are you ok bakashi?”

“Great! So… who’s the girl?”

Great, just awesome.      

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Of course you know, everyone is talking about how you were seen walking up and down with some mysterious gal. I’m so happy for you! Finally you’re going to stop being a sad grumpy bachelor! I’ll call dibs on the position of best-man” and suddenly Kakashi jumps up from his seat, coming closer to Obito’s face “Have you guys done it yet? Did she run away from you and now you need my advice? You could use some techniques from Icha I-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Those books are rotting your brain, seriously what the hell?”

“So is it true?”

[harryswatermelonsegment]

Pool Party

Pairing: Reader/Harry Styles

Rating: R, text book smut

Word Count: 5k 😳

Warnings: Slight sub/dom tones I guess? & alcohol consumption

A/N: Sorry this is late, life somewhat resuming here in the UK so it means I’m back at my job. I managed to fall asleep mid edit folks 😳, this is my entry for the @helladirections Summer Feeling Fic Challenge, with the prompt “pool party” click the link for the masterlist. I’m still writing two more, one for @berrynarrybanana ‘s Sex Bucketlist Challenge but it’s turning out to be a 20k slow burn I wasn’t expecting 😬.Oops. But enjoy this one, I’m proud of her. My one other blatant thirst fic can be found here. Reblogs get free gratitude for the next 5 years 🍉💕

You'd been friends with Jeff since your teens, when his parents (despite their wealth), wanted him to get a job at the restaurant you worked at. In their rightful thinking, they wanted him to learn you had to work from the ground up.

Despite your clearly different class background you found a ton of common interests making the whole thing immaterial. He was a caring, down to earth guy and you were both people who really enjoyed sarcastically taunting each other every shift. You'd got used to visiting his house in the hills even though you'd been scared to get lost at first around his parents large house. Becoming solid friends quickly, you'd managed to keep in touch, as much as adult life would now allow anyway.

You knew his main role was managing a pop star but you'd not caught up in a minute and when you did, you kept your job chat out of the conversation where you could. This is why, as you barge through the kitchen, to the pool outside, you're shocked to nearly knock a stunned Harry Styles onto his behind.

"Fuck, shit I'm so sorry" you clutch your chest looking at the red wine on his tank top and his now empty glass. The soiled garment was tucked into some dressy shorts and partly covered by a loud hawaiian patterned shirt. Oh god what had you done?

You were quite honestly mortified. You'd never actually met the man himself, usually meeting Jeff at his for a few drinks or at a restaurant. You'd heard him mentioned in stories about travelling or how his campaigns were running Jeff into the ground with meetings. So, although you weren't a massive fan of his per se, in the way you didn't ask Jeff for updates or info, the way you'd hope you'd meet the attractive pop star was definitely not this.

He looked down at the offending stain then back up into your eyes, keeping his head angled down and blinking through his lashes. You couldn't read his blank expression and it put you on edge.

Maybe it was the heat trapped in the doorway, but as your eyes stayed locked you suddenly felt a fire spread from your navel up to your cheeks, and then from your center down to your toes. Your lower stomach clenched as you stared back at the guy covered in a good 2007 French rouge.

Fuck me he's pretty, you thought.

A rapid film reel of moments; sweaty bodies, those large biceps holding you against the nearest wall, smacking of lips against skin and moans of release flashed in your brain.

It had definitely been a while since you had got laid in your defense, your mood and pent up sexual frustration getting worse by the day as you tried and failed at the L. A. dating scene. Maybe you were picky, but horny and picky was an awful place to be.

However, the reality of the embarrassing scene you were currently a star of, flipped you back into the present.

Seemingly over the initial incident and hopefully not a mind reader to your thirsty brain, he takes you in and smirks.

Harry knew from the way your breathing hitched looking at his torso that you were at least a bit interested. He had clocked you the second you walked in through the big glass doors. A shirt of a band he liked and a natural beauty he wanted to spend some times with you he pondered. Ideally naked.

Zig zagging across the world promoting the album and had left little time to enjoy another person. Status and obligation to his job making it hard to just go out and meet someone. But here you were, dressed unlike anyone else, looking absolutely adorable in your embarrassment. You must be trustworthy if you're in Jeff's home,he wasn't a "bring your friends too" kind of host with his clients usually around.

This could be a fun evening for you both, he thought. Something unspoken, almost magnetic, drawing you both to one another. Surely that wasn't all his side right?

"I was told it was a good year, but I wasn't planning on consuming it quite this way?" inwardly he rolled his eyes at the barely there quip. But you laughed anyway.

"I am so, so awfully sorry, look, let's see if there's some dish liquid or something, possibly some of my next months rent in there too if I have to replace it" you let out a nervous laugh as you walked towards the kitchen. But in all honesty you weren't kidding.

Harry laughed at your sarcastic remark, impressed by your confidence in owning the situation and getting on with things. He casually watched your hips sway past a few people in to the open plan kitchen with as much subtlety as he could, you were confidentially locating all the parts needed to try and remove the offending stain.

"You seem to know your way around 'ere. I'm er���I'm Harry by the way" awkwardly waving as you mixed some solution in the sink drenching a sponge in it.

"Yeah" you smiled turning from the sink with the damp rag "known Jeff a good while, have definitely spilt red wine here before. I'm Y/N" you giggle. The beam from his own mouth matching.

"Ah! Y/N, of course, I've heard him mention you, didn't you once hide rotting mackerel in a unpleasant guys blazer?" he chuckled

"Heyyyy. Only after he spanked my ass getting him the check. Deserved a hot plate to the crotch too" you shot back.

You weren't sure where to go from here the thought of wetting down the white tank yourself definitely appealed but also seemed far too forward.

"Um…" you began gesturing with the sponge in your hand. You expected him to take it from you to sort himself out but..

"Oh yeah sorry" he replied shimmying his shirt off, dumping it on the back of a bar stool, then, crossing his arms across his stomach and lifting the tank top over his head you were slack jawed and frozen taking in the lean muscles and tattoos littered intermittently across his abdomen. He spread the top across the islands worktop flat, then grabbing the sponge with a simple "thanks" and knitting his eyebrows together in concentration as he tried to rid the dull red mark from it's center.

You still hadn't moved. A pink twinge to your cheeks as you watched his shoulder blades and back muscles scrubbing. Dirty thoughts circling your brain still.

"I would have helped you but I didn't want to start a wet tshirt contest in such a high end establishment yknow?" you thought out loud.

"Oh yeah, good call. I'm fiercely competitive Y/N so would probably be under that fancy waterfall thing by now showing off m'moves in my pants" he wiggles his hips trying to suggestively show you his "moves" but you can't help but smirk at just how endearing this man is. Dammit.

When he's finished with his shirt he drapes it over another barstool before handing you the sponge back.

If anyone asks him if he blatantly and deliberately got naked to gauge if you were into him he'd definitely deny it. But the truth is, he definitely did. Luckily for him, with the way you bite your lip and drag your eyes down his flesh as he brushes past your side to get back to the sink, he's right.

"Speaking of getting in the water in your" you use air quotes "'pants' I'm off to get out of mine" you declare, pushing yourself from the counter and keeping eye contact a second as you stroll back to the sliding doors leading to the pool.

"I… What??"

" The pool Harry?.... What did you think I meant?" you narrow your eyes and press your lips together before shutting the glass door again and turning once more to smirk at the opened mouthed man still by the sink.

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

You'd been schmoozing in the water for a few hours now. There were probably only 20 or so people still here and the 3rd frozen marg had got you buzzed. You were in the small hot tub type pool, attached at the top of the main one on a slightly higher level. You hadn't seen Harry for a while but the last few times you caught his eye he'd been surrounded by at least 3 other people fighting for his attention, so you banked your flirtations to soothe your own ego, grabbed another marg and tried to forget about how he had started a tornado inside you, yearning for his hands on your thighs and head peering up at you from where they met in the middle. The strong pull of lust was clearly in your head then. What a shame.

You put it to the back of your mind as you finished catching up with Glenne. Both flushed and giggly as usual, she was the perfect match for Jeff and their chemistry unmatchable. You always enjoyed hanging out with the both of them, if anything, they gave you hope your own match may be out there. She left you in the tub alone, as she went to grab herself another drink and check on her host duties boyfriend.

"Don't you find drinking whilst already in water the weirdest thing?" you look up to find Harry standing over your right shoulder as you sit with your back against the pool wall and your elbows propping you up behind you, drink in one hand. His eyes unsubtley slip down to where your breasts lay pushed together in your halter neck bikini. You definitely weren't imagining it then. Fucking fantastic, you think.

"I mean drowning yourself on the inside from the alcohol and being in more than 4 inches of water really adds a danger element to my life if I'm honest" you reply sipping your drink.

And there goes those dimples again.

He's just in a pair of yellow swimming shorts now which doesn't help the alcohol flush at all. Sitting by your right side, putting his short glass full of amber liquid and ice, on the side of the pool and sliding in to join you. He leaves a small gap, as to not appear a total letch but your smart mouth has him hooked.

Taking a sip of his drink with the water up to his collar bones he hums.

"I do feel incredibly dangerous now, you've got a point"

"I mean if you think that's danger" you edge closer, not drunk but buzzed enough to take your chances you whisper into the shell of his ear. "You should see what thrills are in the guest bathroom. 1st floor on the right? " he chokes on his drink as your suggestive whispers make his dick twitch. He definitely couldn't get out of the pool for a while.

You're gone before you get a verbal reaction. If this all goes badly then you can just hide in there and slip out to an Uber and never see Jeff again right? Right. Cool.

With a soft white towel around you and your heart rate high as you reach the main guest bedroom you enter the room, you notice a large weekend bag in there and freeze. Shit. Someone's staying over, you hadn't factored that in, but a glance to the tag and the embossed H. E. S tells you you're good. Well, if not you'll just be a creep hiding in someone's bathroom but let's not think about it too much. Your faux confidence was working well so far and what other chance was going to arise like this one? Hot celebrities need fun with strangers too right?

Entering the bathroom you rub the towel over you, leaving mostly dry skin. You'd peel away your bikini if you were definite you wouldn't need to peel it back up your limbs should this plan backfire. You move to the mirror to adjust the black flecks from your minimal makeup dispersing under your eye and just as you're about to smooth down the stray baby hairs that humidity has got to around your face, you see Harry appear in the mirror behind you. Your belly flipping over and over with the thrill he'd took the bait.

Wasting no time he smirks and holds your gaze, wrapping his hands around your waist whilst his lips attach to the junction of your neck and collarbone. His tongue drags over your soft skin and he licks and softly sucks swirls onto it with his plush lips.

"Hm. You're right. This is a more fun type of danger" he says between kisses but before he's even finished his sentence you've spun around in his arms.

The bottom of your spine cold against the marble countertop, arms around his neck as you smash your lips into one another's with urgency. Tongues and wet noises as you get to know one another through your bodies alone.

He runs his hands down your back and presses his hard length against your thigh. He's definitely packing you think as you lift up a little rub your pubic bone against his front, panting out a little moan as the sweet friction of your bodies colliding sends you into overdrive. Catching the noise through your parted lips he gently tugs on the bottom one, teeth grazing the supple flesh. This combined with his large palms kneading your ass and pulling you further, tighter, into the roll of his hips. Only two layers of damp clothing separate you,forcing your lips to break from his mouth and fully moan, not caring who may be around. You could not remember the last time a perfect stranger knew your body quite this well.

His own grunts were speeding up when he suddenly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you up beside the sink, you gasp in shock but it was more the way the lean man thrusted you up there like it was nothing. What else could he do? You expect him to go back to kissing you but instead he pulls back with his rock hard erection outlined in the wet shorts he still has on. Looking at you dead in the eyes both raging with lust and concern. Whilst you try not to worry how you were going to accommodate him inside your tight walls.

"Is this…? I mean, you want this too right?" his hands are resting at either side of your parted thighs. You nod. "Need you to say it Y/N" he steps forward, lips wet and brushes the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip that was now puffy and pink from the earlier biting. He knew you were down to fuck, but now he wanted to test your preferences. What kind of fun you were about to have shall we say. So when you lick his thumb tip, holding his fist still and grazing your wet tongue up and down from knuckle to tip before closing your eyes and humming around the entire digit, he knew you were both in for a good time.

Removing the thumb he whispers a barely audible "fuck me" before smashing your lips back together, tongues massaging together as he peels your underwear to the side with his hand swiftly and presses digit you'd lubricated with your mouth against your clit, moving it fast from side to side with just the right amount of pressure to make your head spin. Gasping, you throw your head back, hands clasped around his neck as you lean back and feel yourself start to leak a little with arousal. The few spots dripping down on to the counter.

You could say it had been a while but really this guy was moving his way round your body in the same way you tune a guitar in key. Calloused fingers applying the right amount of pressure as you felt yourself start to get to the edge already. He was kissing down the front if your chest, between your breasts, not missing a beat when he pushed both triangles of your bikini aside and you moaned loudly as he kissed and sucked hard around your nipple, tentatively pulling it between his teeth firmly, the sound you let out made him clamp a little harder before sucking in the whole nipple again, soothing the skin his tongue. Most likely leaving a mark behind, but you kind of liked the idea of proof he'd been devouring you in all honesty.

You were becoming blissed out from all the stimulation. Clenching and moving your hips around nothing but this magical thumb working your clit up and down hard. You were overcome with this whole situation playing out the way it had. You broke away from his mouth again.

"Oh fuck.. Harry, I'm… FuckFuck I'm going to come, I'm gonna fucking… Ahhh" he pulled back one arm steadying you as your head hit the mirror behind you in your release. He just watched you and slowed his thumb down watching as the liquid cascaded onto the counter.

After you'd come down you open your eyes and shyly smiled before kissing him passionately, his hands moving around your waist tightly. You moved your hand to his shorts, teasingly grazing the outline of his cock between your fingers in hopes of repaying the favour. He does a single throaty laugh and removes your hand, holding himself against his thigh. You look at him in confusion when he splutters,

"Sorry, sorry its just I'm going t'blow my load if you touch me." then he's back on your lips "Too. Fucking. Sexy" he says between wet kisses to your jaw, neck and clavicle. "Wanted to do this since I first set eyes on you" one hand is on the back of his neck twisting nape curls between your fist whilst the other rests behind you, stopping you from hitting your head on the mirror again.

"Oh yeah? Before or after I ruined your clothes?" you laugh teasingly as he slides his hands around your back to finally remove the bikini top properly, lifting it up over your head and tossing it aside somewhere on the floor. He let's a laugh out himself completely entranced still by how natural you are around him, it was often hard to connect with strangers in his position.

"I'd spotted you walking in, was trying to open the door for you m'love" he says before sucking a red mark into your breast and massaging and pulling the other nipple slightly with his hand.

You struggle through sharp intakes of breath for a reply.

"Well….ah...that's what chivalry.. Oh.. Get's you these days I guess" and you're both laughing a little.

"Hmm. Have to try harder with my manners then won't I? I mean, I've got to clear up the mess I've made here" he cups his hand against your pussy rubbing it up and down a little with his palm. You let out a guttural noise at the friction. "Ladies first and all'tha too right?" he giggles again at himself.

You're practically cumming right then, you couldn't remember the last time someone actually went down on you. Your previous boyfriend not particularly into offering you foreplay. A main point of why he didn't stick around too long.

Harry kisses down your abdomen now, soft sloppy, sensual pecks, humming into your skin every so often in appreciation as he works at removing your soaked bikini bottoms with his hands, pushing them down to your knees before you help, letting them fall from the remaining ankle to the ground.

Harry is moving far too slow for you, kissing across each hip down to the top of your slit, breathing over where you desperately need him before paying the other side the same attention. Then he's licking up each crease where your thigh meets your pelvis.

"Y/N, just.. Just turn, that's it and lean back as far as you can there, shuffle forward until can't balance anymore" you shift your ass as forward as possible on the lip of the sink and prop yourself up on your elbows trying to be as flat as possible on the cold counter as you could, your toes behind the sink with one foot the other dangling over the edge. You keep you thighs open as Harry hunches over the counter where you now lay diagonal. He places his arms under your thighs and bends your legs flat out as he can stretch you, you're expecting some more teasing but he just looks down at your pussy licking over his lips and almost whining before burying his tongue inside you immediately. The force of his tongue lapping up your previous climax causes you once again to knock the side of your head against the mirrored wall. You turn and watch the scene almost as a spectator, witnessing yourself bare to this beautiful man, curly brown hair between your fists and making sounds like he's savouring every taste. He catches you watching before taking his mouth off you, immediately, you're whining in protest.

"Watch my eyes not my reflection baby, I'm right here"

His authoritative tone eclipsing every thought you had about the casual nickname, you stared down at the wonderful site of him lapping and suckling on your clit. Pointed tongue and firm laps against the swollen button. He then starts lapping up at your glistening hole,unhooking an arm to spread your lips open between his fingers and licking right from the bottom to the top with all the sloppy wet noises involved. He was feeling you contract as he locked faster and faster over you. His tongue deserved an award never mind his music. You couldn't believe you were on the brink of a second orgasm so quickly but when he sunk his middle finger into you at the same pace his tongue was working at, you were screaming his name into the extractor fan above before you knew it. You felt waves of liquid cascade from your pussy as he gently lapped up the produce of his work from you. You flinched in overstimulation but he cleaned up every last drop tenderly before carefully closing your legs and pivoting you round to your previous sitting up position on the counter. Neither of you had spoken a word since you came but as he leads your arms to drape over your shoulders, holding your fucked out body against his chest whilst peppering your temple with soft pecks . Then he kisses you intensely, letting you taste the sweet juices of yourself on his lips. You hummed in approval of the sweet taste as you came round.

A few minutes of carnal making out and things were heating up again. Your hands cupping his jaw then sliding to graze fingernails up and down his back, digging them in a little harder now and again and causing goosebumps to pierce through the skin rapidly under your touch.

You could feel him swallowing down grunts from the friction he was getting from his shorts covered cock brushing up and down between your slick folds.

He'd made you cum twice. Hard. He always got off of making his partners cum of course, so he was feeling beyond turned on and the slight heat of your glistening folds against his length was almostvsending him over the edge.

"I want you inside me" you whispered against his lips desperately.

No sooner had you said the words, his left hand was frantically searching through the vanities top drawer in hope. Finding a packet, checking the date quickly then tearing it between his teeth, spitting the seal onto the floor and pushing his shorts to his ankles, stepping out of them at speed before kicking them away.

He smirked when he caught your eyes bulge at his cock. He knew it was above average but the reaction was always a further compliment he thought.

Stepping forward he put on a show of putting the condom on, first rubbing the drops of sticky pre cum at the head and down his length keeping his eyes locked to yours as you wriggled on the counter with anticipation. He whined a little as it squeezed him rolling it on, so red and over sensitive from turning you on. So that's why, when you grabbed for it, he stilled your hand. Dimples appearing back in his cheeks as you looked again in confusion. He kisses you, languishing the moment before grabbing you forward from the countertop to the floor again, still keeping your lips attached. He lightly grips at your hips and turns you round to face the mirror once more.

Harry lightly grabs your throat, and the way you whimper and push your ass back against him, makes him mentally bank that idea for later perhaps. He runs his left hand up the column of your neck lightly holding your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him with his hand on your face and the other already working up and down your folds.

"I want you to watch us. Want you to watch yourself come apart. Want to watch you cum around my cock yeah? " he whispers in your ear. You noticeably shiver with excitement of what's to come.

"Please Harry, please, need it, need you."

You watch yourself babble and beg for his cock. The pathetic whimper from yourself as you try and circle your ass into his crotch again to encourage it happening. You were never patient and he's driving you insane here.

Bringing two fingers infront of your lips as you watch yourself in the mirror he looks you dead in the eye through the reflection.

"Spit" so you do, "good girl" he says kissing your cheek. His saliva lubed fingers are back rubbing your clit quickly whilst his knee nudges the back of yours to spread your feet wider as he kisses the back of your neck and shoulders. When he pauses next you're not expecting the hard thrust of him entering you entirely, sure you were dripping wet with the result of two orgasms but you cry out in a mix of stretch and pleasure as he pounds into you at a furious pace. His spare hand not on your clit is holding the bottom of your spine down as he keeps up his rhythm. His pace was that of a man desperate for release after watching you fall apart on his fingers and tongue. The build up meant he was already close as you tight walls fluttered around him. He pleads with you to stop tightening your walls around him or he's not going to last he whimpers.

You were already close again, you'd never cum this many times or this quickly in your life but you were ready for another round and by the sounds of him and the stutter his pace kept slipping you knew he was close too.

You quickly removed his hand, sucking your own fingers into your mouth to replace his own at your clit.

"M'gonna cum, but… OhOh fuck.. But need you harder. Deeper" you manage to get out.

He grunts a curse before squeezing your hips at a pressure that will leave marks tomorrow but the delight in the speed he was now able to snap his hips against the swells of your ass, was well worth it. It only took a few more seconds with the fingers that knew you best, for you to gush against his cock. Feeling absolutely exhausted you slump your sweaty chest onto the cold counter.

His orgasm taking him by surprise when you clenched up to milk him dry. He all but shouts your name as his hips stutter and you feel the warmth of his cum fill the one barrier between you.

His lips were back on your sweaty neck for a second whilst he disposed of the used condom. He ran the walk in shower and wordlessly you took his offered hand to join him under the hot spray. You'd never had an encounter end like this before not that you were a seasoned professional but after 3 orgasms the way his hands moved round your body under the water, washing away your antics with sweet strawberry-banana smelling suds on the flannel, left you with a warm floaty feeling the worn off alcohol never had.

He gently wipes your makeup from under your eyes then, smiling at the cute way your nose wrinkles slightly as he rubs at each eyebrow.

"I don't even have words" you finally laugh out blushing, not able to stand his gauge as you say it.

"Oh. So that's how to make that smart mouth o'yours stop is it? " he grins, you gasp in mock offense and go to say something but going under your chin with his thumb with his forefinger to connect your lips under the warm water spray he kisses you when you pull away you can't help but ask.

"So does this make us even on one ruined fancy vest then?"

"Hmmmm" he ponders with both hands on your face looking at the ceiling out if the falling water. " I'm not sure, I mean it was a custom, pretty high going rate those yeah"

"Yeahhhh you're right, you're right. Better factor in the cost of the custom job then hadn't I huh?"

You hurriedly sink to your knees on the tiled floor.

[cartoon-buffoon]

I usually don't reblog my own posts but in hopes to prove that fanfiction is a genuine type of writing and because I think a LOT about the stories I wish to tell here's an explanation/some extra details about this fic that I have kept in my mind because I love subtle world building and the implications rather than the downright explanations (why am I explaining this fic then? Because I can, shush). Anyways time for tonight's episode of:

BEHIND THE SCENES WITH TB!

Now for starters the inspirations for this fic is a clusterfuck of several different things I've pulled from. First and foremost and I suppose the main inspirations I explicitly mentioned were a song and a story. The story this is based on is my personal favorite fictional story EVER and the story that inspired me to write in the first place which is "The Inevitable End Of All But Me" by SCP illustrated [link to video here] . This story features the really hard to kill reptile SCP-682 effectively alone in a desolate cold world after humanity and all life has died, you could see the influence on this fic. With that outta the way the other inspiration was the FNF sonic.exe Lord X song "Trichael", which is a song of the sinister deity Lord X (which is a new version of the classic sonic.exe) who's body or vessel is at the end of its lifespan and the song is him accepting his death as he's basically a walking corpse. The link is [here] if you wanna listen to it (lyrics start half-way through) but I'll recount the main lyrics that makes me draw a connection CC to Lord X as characters:

"[I tore off my face

I don't want it back

do not let me see it

it will fade to black]

I'm waiting,

Still breathing,"

No longer worth deceiving

This flesh decaying but my,

heart's,

still,

bea-ting"

These verses has rewired my brain and gave me a hard cemented HC into my mind that whatever CC was/is under the mask he doesn't like that version of himself. His body is a lot more than a way to latch onto the world, it's a form he loves and cherishes which is why he chooses to remain as it. The idea of Lord X also inspired the dialogue/implied origins of CC in this fic which is a segway into my next topic—

THE THREE SURVIVORS/SYMBOLISM

The choice of CC, Long Horse, and The Man With The Upside Down Face (who will be abbreviated as UDF from here on out) was a sort of representation of past, present, and future. CC is the cause of the disaster showcasing what did happen with his body decaying, Long Horse is the representation of what is currently happening with humanity dead the patron saints all have no purpose and their crumbling which is exactly what happens to Long Horse. UDF finally is representative of the aftermath, unlike CC and Long Horse, UDF is untouched for one of two reasons, he shows no signs of rot despite it clearly stating his time is also up because he is the representation of everything will go back to how it is. Both for CC and the earth which will have nature reclaim it with a line directly stating this.

Now as for the individual characters themselves Long Horse and his presence was one I DEFINITELY wanted to be there for CC. In most fan projects and fan stuff CC and Long Horse are tied together with Long Horse (who will be abbreviated as LH from here on out) usually being a warning to CC's victims. Now while the same is true for this fic as it's explicitly stated that LH ruined some of CC's meals by warning them, I paint LH as a benevolent creature who's intentionally passive. It is dying with CC and while it did strive to protect humans UDF rightfully states that LH feels pity for CC, which it does. It doesn't hold any resentment or hatred as it just can't, it knows CC is something that holds no real morals or reason, it's not a human and doesn't really know what it feels like to have the same feelings as a mortal. That's kinda where the pity comes from, it feels bad for CC because it's a creature that was so caught up in its bloodlust it never for a second considered anything else.

On the opposite end of the spectrum there's UDF who comes out with the cold hard truth and although he doesn't hate CC he rightfully blames him. UDF I paint as a sort of grim reaper, it was there for the death of all the others and it intentionally tries to rile CC up just for a last meal because it feeds off that energy when something dies. An aspect of UDF I wrote in and personally love is the fact that it knows it's a force of nature far beyond the other creatures which is why It has nicknames for all of them and refuses to call them by their actual names. It calls CC "Smiley", LH as "Skelly", it refers to Big Charlie, Lil Nugget, and the Lamb as "The Big Fella and his spawn", The God of Roadkill as "Roady", the bridge worms as "maggots", Chicken God as "Beak-face", and finally Siren Head as "that ol' siren". It uses these nicknames because it sees itself as above them all and looks down at them, it's entire existence being just evil incarnate. It's also why he uses CC's name in a mocking fashion + why when LH injuries him his tone changes, he was humbled up and gets kinda pissy about that because something he considers below him hurt him. I also imagine UDF as a sort of omnipresent force which is why he's also not worried about his own demise either, like yeah his material existence is coming to an end yet he doesn't really care at all and is sort of happy he could witness such chaos be sown in the first place. All he wants to do is make sure CC knows what he did, although as I said he DID want to piss CC off that doesn't take away that all of his words held weight. He didn't sugarcoat or lie about anything and just stated the truth.

Now for the final character and one I attempted to keep as canon-accurate as possible: CC! CC's entire thing is its a cold hearted killer that shows no remorse for its actions. Which is why in this fic it doesn't really change, in fact this fic itself was created as an explanation as to why CC doesn't go on mass killing sprees and prefers to slowly take away the population for its own amusement. If it did just stroll around slaughter absolutely everything it would be board faster, it's why the section of CC contemplating his existence was so fun to write/read back on. At the end of the day he truly shows no remorse and he would learn NOTHING from an experience where he was faced with the thought of death, in fact arguably he's even worse now. I kinda wanted this to reflected during his actual death yet I feel like I didn't do a good enough job, one thing I did make sure to add was when he sees LH he still thinks about taking this opportunity to end LH then and there but he chooses not too because their all already dying. It's this part of the character that I absolutely love because even during death he's still the same Cartoon Cat, he thinks about different possibilities out of curiosity yet when he's given a second chance he IMMEDIATELY goes back to killing. It's in his blood and apart of him, did you really think he'd learn a moral? Nope! And that's why I absolutely loved to write this. Anyways moving on to:

WHATS NOT STATED/EXTRAS

For starters one thing that I guess is a heavy part is the existence of the void/abyss, the place where CC and likewise UDF come from. Now while CC and UDF's origins canonically are left up to be a mystery on a purpose (and IMO it makes them even more scarier) I decided to give a sort of implication where they come from. This was inspired by Lord X as well but the concept of the void to me is an abstract place of darkness, a place outside of time and space that's primordial. I still wanted to keep an air of mystery surrounding it though which is why both CC and UDF—despite coming from there—have no idea what the abyss truly is like. I love cosmic horror so something is scary to me that even the creatures birthed from it have no idea wtf it is as they only have a vague idea of what it is. Their basic understanding is demonstrated with UDF saying to CC "I look forward to seeing you in the abyss... If we don't forget ourselves that is", and why when CC dies and is suddenly thrust into an abyss he doubts it's THE abyss. As they understand it, the abyss and where they spawn from is a place of absolute nothingness, it's a place where the very memories and sense of who they were/are on earth is stripped away and they're reduced to the primordial nothingness that they spawned from. At least that's what they ASSUME, neither knows for sure and UDF hopes to see CC in the void just so he could laugh at it and it's why when CC is in the abyss he doesn't believe he's in the abyss he came from because it just doesn't feel right. The abyss and the void itself is kinda like the concept of a god, people have vastly different takes of who/what is god but they all have a vague idea or share similar beliefs, with all that being said it's possible they are all wrong because no one truly knows for sure.

Okay abyss covered, the other thing I wanna explain a bit is the death of the other cryptids/creations of Mr. Henderson. Although a passing comment with little importance idk but I find the death's of all the other cryptids either sad or actually somewhat happy. For starters the bridge worms are creatures that are kinda biological and not really supernatural, they are a species that lies in dark places and area to hunt animals and humans and it's fake face is a stunted and kinda useless form of mimicry. The bridge worm is kinda what a cryptid should be, a fucked up creature that has an air of mystery surrounding it but for the most part is pretty comprehensible on paper. With that being said it's death is explanatory, the bridge worm as a species all just died off without food, simple but logical. On the more positive side beak-face aka the chicken god/chicken ghost actually killed itself in order to save its poultry servants. It literally ripped off it's halo killing itself in the process so the surviving chickens could go somewhere else. While it is sad it died it the death of all humans meant the chickens didn't need a guardian anymore so he decided to sacrifice himself and take all the world's population of chickens (or at least the ones CC didn't consume in his massacre) to a better world for them. In a similar vain the death of all man meant the god of roadkill's purpose was also useless which is why his death is pretty simple. It walked off to an animal graveyard and passed, it fulfilled its job until the very end and because of that it got to finally take a well deserved rest surrounded by animals which it cared for. Something different happens with Big Charlie, Lil Nugget, and The Lamb (and void nugget I guess too) and I intentionally used the word "faded" there. I remember Mr. Henderson saying Big Charlie, Lil Nugget, and The Lamb is kinda like the holy Trinity of his universe being the father, the song, and the holy Spirit which is why they all "faded". I wanted to imply they all kinda ascended and went to a better place, idk I find the idea of big Charlie and all the Lil Nuggets and Lambs all huddling together before slowly fading into what I would hope is heaven is a sweet mental image, Charlie's life started off in a meat plant so to have it's "children" all there together in one big embrace before becoming something more is what I think he deserves. Stepping away from that though there's finally Siren Head who I like to think is equally part flesh as he is metal. With nothing to feast on I came up with the gnarly mental image of Siren Head's body physically rusting, the meat on its scrawny form peeling off until finally it stood stiff, it's skelton fully exposed being leaving a normal looking siren as a pile of meat lay at its feet. As you can tell the smallest of lines comes with the craziest amount of ideas from me on the writing standpoint and if I don't share these NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW OF MY IDEAS!

Anyways lemme check my last few notes and do a speed round of stuff.

—LH is stated to be a pacifist yet I imagine him to hold a great deal of power, his power demonstrated by him actually hurting UDF

—The world didn't reset but rather CC is in an entirely new world, the old one still existed and died off

—CC's rebirth in a new world is because of it latching onto the inherent nostalgia of others. As long as people exist who look back on how things used to be fondly it will forever be the same ol' Cartoon Cat no matter the world.

—The title of the fic + the ending is based on the picture Mr. Henderson made of CC T-posing in an empty street, the picture being named "reruns". The same man from that picture is the one in the fic who unfortunately stumbled across CC.

—This is a fuck up on my part but the ending should not have been in a mall because as the reruns picture clearly shows CC is in the middle of an empty street, NOT A MALL

Okay with that outta the way time for tonight's final segment:

CUT CONTENT!

Like all of my works many ideas don't fall through or gets changed in rewrites, I'll list some and briefly touch on why I didn't go through with it or altered it.

—originally this fic was going to be a lot closer to its inspiration with the world actually completely dying, didn't use this because I wanted to seperate it from The Inevitable End Of All But Me.

—the other cryptids were planned to be there for CC during the finale. Ultimately I felt like LH and UDF being there had more of an impact than just some cryptid apocalypse party on a roof, LH's outburst being the main deciding factor in this decision as the idea was too perfect not to use.

—LH was supposed to speak a lot more and in fact have an entire monologue expressing his sympathy and pity towards CC, once again this was inspired by the SCP-682 story and the new humans' eulogy for a murderer in that story taking on a double meaning and being indirectly for 682. Felt like LH being silent held more of an impact.

—likewise CC was also supposed to speak but once again, silence is sometimes better than dialogue in storytelling.

—CD or the Cartoon Dog was originally supposed to replace LH during the original idea of having all of Mr. Henderson's creations present, this was quickly scrapped

—CC was supposed to use the last bit of his powers to reset the world and creating it anew than dying and going to another. Felt like CC's "death" held more weight so this didn't go through

—The ending line was supposed to be different because of some dream metaphors I wanted to add in, with these metaphors the ending line would of been "this was all one bad dream, a bad dream everyone but him would wake up from". This was supposed to show that ultimately CC is trapped in an eternal loop of killing with his purpose forever being to end the world, ultimately this felt like I was trying to make CC a sympathetic villain when he's not. The ending was gonna be the kinda same though with CC not being discouraged by the eternal loop and in fact embracing his instincts so that part remained

—the cryptids death were supposed to get an entire paragraph dedicated to how they all died, cut this for the sake of length/time although this ramble details the detail of their death's so I suppose this wasn't completely scrapped as you get it here

—there was supposed to be a UDF and CC fight scene but once again LH's outburst stole the show and this had to be scrapped to make way for it, that and also length constraints

—extra detail of the man during the ending's death. It was supposed to show CC actually doing the savoring of the kill by having the man crying and begging while CC tore off bits of flesh and ate it. Ultimately removed due to length constraints.

Alright that's all I can think of, sorry for this super giant fucking ramble about this shitty fic. I'm in no way a good writer so if you think a lot of these ideas are too deep for a CC fanfic then—yeah you're right, I overthink too much. If you have anymore inquires about anything feel free to ask but until then thanks for reading if you came this far and until next time:

STAY TOONED!

Here's a Cartoon Cat' fanfic idk if I'll post on my AO3 so semi-exclusive story, btw this is inspired by my favorite stories of all time and a song. If you can somehow guess which story and which song you get a gold star for doing a goods.

TW for: gore and body horror

Reruns

Throughout all of time it had gone long undisturbed. What lurked behind a friendly cartoon cat's smile was a nothing more than sinister force that loved to indulge in the fear and havoc it could wreck. With powers beyond mortal comprehension it had no competition, it reigned supreme at the top of the food chain with not one to challenge it. Using these powers it was at first content with the simple disappearances that it would make, people here and there who went down dark alleys, abandoned crossroads, desolate malls, old warehouses, all of them suddenly vanishing without a trace. Picking people off, dragging them away screaming, and torturing them while it ripped them apart was fun but eventually that grew boring for the faux feline. It craved more, more and more which it consumed and caused chaos. Soon entire neighborhoods vanished, bloodstains and body parts laying in homes where the residents should be. From neighborhoods it advanced to entire towns, thousands gone just like that. Towns turned to cities, cities turned to counties, counties to states, states to regions, by the time an entire area suddenly went dead a mass hysteria infected the world. Mortals assumed the apocalypse was upon them and they'd be right, once its presence was known it need not hide anymore.

That was the fun part for it, once everybody knew of the Cartoon Cat as something more than just urban legend or myth it grew bold. Dashing through streets and populated areas it grew hands and arms out of its back in order to snatch man, women, child, animal, all that crossed its path in order to shove them down its gullet. At one point it even ceased to feed, it opted to just bite down on the skulls of its prey popping their heads sending skull fragments and blood across the pavement only to discard the rest of the bodies like trash. It didn't need food anymore, it merely killed for the sport and thrill of it, thrill of seeing the vain attempts to run or fight, it's absolute favorite was when it couldn't spot anybody out in the open. That's where the real game began. With the mortals getting smart they hid to the best of their abilities, trying not to be found and maybe outlast this entity posing as a black cat that made mincemeat out of the people they knew. One by one over the span of only a few years all their hopes and dreams were crushed though, each who hid was found with the Cartoon Cat spending extra time to make their deaths as painful as possible, a sort of reward for making the game just so entertaining. Like all things though the game had to come to an end, with no more mortals or animals the world fell into ruin. With the mortal's death soon the other cryptids who stalked the earth died out, without life to feed from they starved and perished. With no mortals left, no games to play, no fear to strike into people, the same too was happening to the Cartoon Cat. It was the very things it killed that kept it intact, its demented existence was kept alive by those who acknowledged its existence.

At the end of all there was naught to do but be consumed by the hollow rot and bloodlust that he used to consume the mortals.

It sat on where it originally called home, the abandoned mall which it used to lurk. With all humans gone nature had reclaimed it as well as most of the rest of earth. Vines creeped up the side and trees sprouted from the foundation, gazing at a setting sun the Cartoon Cat couldn't help but find irony in the one thing having the last laugh and outliving it was the very ground it walked on. The ground it smeared with the blood of billions. Alas it wasn't completely alone though, after all while most cryptids did rely on a food source there were creatures like it who either held a purpose or relied on belief to keep them alive. While not all of them were extra dimensional the mortals roughly classified those they deemed otherworldly or alien as "Patron Saints", while The Cartoon Cat itself was deprived of such a title for being "too evil" that didn't stop them from grouping it in with the rest. It was one of those who it was grouped in with which showed up as its time was nearing the end. The patron saint of guiding lost souls and a bearer of warning decided to pay the thing who ruined the lives of the mortals it tried to warn a visit, the Long Horse as it was aptly named. Its neverending infinite neck climbed up the building and it held its head up beside The Cartoon Cat, staring at it with its empty sockets.

This sure was a surprise to the cat, it was acquainted with the skull headed creature but it could hardly call it a friend. The Long Horse spent a good deal of its existence warning the mortals of The Cartoon Cat, but now there was no one left to warn. They were polar opposites but in the end it didn't really matter, nothing mattered considering they were both dying. The feline glanced at the creature out of the corner of its eye and saw this clear as day. Fractures and cracks had accumulated onto its skull, its spine that held up its skull looked brittle like the smallest bit of force could break the bone. The cat contemplated doing this, ending the thing that would ruin its meals here and now, but there would be no satisfaction in it, no fight to justify the kill, besides time would soon rapture them itself.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything"

The age old proverb of misery coming in 3s proved right. An uninvited guest made his presence known as he walked up to the two other cryptids, the individual in question being the patron saint of havoc and disaster. Negativity itself embodied into the form of a sharply dressed man with his face twisted upside down. His tone was smug and while the two showed signs of rot the man with the upside down face showed no signs of being affected, although his time on earth as it stood was too coming to an end. Despite this his tone was smug, seeing the two once powerful creatures weak before him made him absolutely giddy.

"Pardon my lateness I was checking up on the others, safe to say it's just us three left: the maggots lurking in underpasses all shriveled up and died, beak-face offed himself by ripping out his halo to open a gateway for his followers to only-he-knows, roady passed away in some animal graveyard, the big fella and his spawn huddled up before they faded, heck even that ol' siren's flesh rusted right off his bone" the man's twisted smile grew wider, the taste of their death's fresh on his tongue "oh you should of been there! I'm sure you would of loved to see it"

The Cartoon Cat remained silent, still staring out at the sunset. It didn't have words to spare, certainly none to that upside down headed bottom feeding leech.

This silence provoked the man to take another step forward, his shoes clacking against the mall's roof "oh come on, do you really got nothing for me smiley? Don't tell me you're scared of death now" the man's eyes fixated on the cat, trying to garner any sort of reaction as he spoke "I guess that's why they call you a pussycat for a reason"

If it was a reaction the man wanted it would be a reaction he would get. Even in its rotting state the Cartoon Cat held enough power to wipe that smile off the man's face. Turning to face him it bared stained teeth, its gums leaking blood from its maw.

It was at this point the Long Horse intervened, stretching in-between the two it acted as a barrier as both of its sockets on the side of its skull bore into the two cryptids.

"Oh come on skelly, don't you see this entire thing is his fault, what's he got to cry over?" The man with the upside down face brought a hand up to his mouth, trying to cover his mouth as he snickered "oh it just drives me WILD how much I can feel your pity for smiley over there! Even as you're about to die you hold no anger or rage towards the very thing that brought us all to our doom, it's comical really..."

The Cartoon Cat's flesh began to droop off its form as it stood and turned to face the man with his face upside down. The smell of burnt rubber filled the air and it hunched over, ready to strike at the patron saint who was trying to get a last meal out of both their emotions.

"Look at you" The man continued "Standing there with your sickly looking self, I do got to hand it to you though, I'm surprised your body hasn't caved in on itself yet, you using the last bit of power you have to stay awake?"

The Long Horse extended itself further into the air, its spine creaking and cracking in a way no bone should. Although it remained silent a strong gust of wind blew across the area making the man's tie flutter. It was a warning.

"hehehe...." The warning was met with laughter, the man was absolutely reveling in the moment and ignored Long Horse, looking over across towards the decaying cryptid "I thought you were stronger than this, are you really having the pacifist stand up for you? This is a new low for you truly-"

The wind picked up, the breeze growing stronger with each word the man said.

"Maybe if you used your brain instead of your stomach you'd realize this would be the end goal of your little massacre, but you didn't ever think of that did you? Instead all you thought about was satisfying that unquenchable thirst to kill but now you left yourself, and everyone high and dry, a desert without an oasis"

Gusts of air tried to drown out what the man with the upside down face was saying, but he knew all too well the cat could hear him. He continued, his tone more condescending by the second.

"Acting as if you deserve anything else other than this, you've reaped what you've sowed and that's the souls of all you saw, I may be throwing stones in a glass house here yet it takes one to know one which is why I can safely say you're nothing but a sad little speck from the void who wanted to hide behind some fake face in order to turn this world into your little playground"

"ENOUGH"

The Long Horse's voice echoed throughout the air, traveling on the wind as it fell onto the man and cat's ears. The deep, hoarse tone made the mall shake and the man go silent, although a pacifist and a creature of benevolence it had grown fed up with the mockery. What came around went around, karma physically manifesting as blood the man puked up.

Falling to his knees the man spoke through grit teeth, his smile morphing into a scowl "I see the truth isn't very welcome here, fine then" he stood up and fixed his tie "I'll be off now since I'm clearly unwanted, I hope that little stunt of yours was worth it skelly seeing as you don't got much life left in you" walking away the man couldn't help but get the last laugh in, taking a quick glance back at the rotting feline he uttered his words of departure "after everything is said and done I look forward to seeing you in the abyss... if we don't forget ourselves that is, until next time Cartoon Cat". The man's words were laced with venom, mocking the name that the cryptid chose for itself.

With that he was gone, vanishing into thin air leaving the only other two cryptids alive behind.

The two soon becoming one, The Long Horse's borrowed time was all spent up hurting the man with the upside down face. The cracks on it deepened and its spine turned to dust, its skull landing right in the hands of the Cartoon Cat.

The Cartoon Cat stared at the patron saint that lay in its palms, the horse's body and connection to the earth severed. It didn't know whether the creature was still alive or if the skull was merely the remains of that wish used to plague it, either way it couldn't help but embrace the skull. The cat's body was and time was coming to an end, the form it took destabilizing. Ovular pupils struggled to maintain their shape, they dilated growing wider and wider until the sclera was consumed by the pupil, eyes now pure white. With blurred vision the Cartoon Cat couldn't see the body it had made for itself, but maybe that was for the better because it sure could feel it. Blood and pus oozed out of every orifice on its body, mouth, eyes, even the pores that lined its body soon secreted a foul smelling combination of liquid that signified its decay. The skin it had started to sag off molded bones, its face particularly coming undone revealing the hideous visage of what truly lurked behind the mask. Not one would be left to view it though, instead all that there would be was silence. While it still had time left and the sounds of death dripped off his form it's mind began to ponder what it could of done differently.

It was too late now but it still wondered out of curiosity, perhaps the curiosity could have saved it if it ever considered the different options. Maybe it could have existed as a purely fear based entity, instead of downright killing mortals it could have given them a good scare, feed off that fear. Another idea was instead of killing humans directly it could have taken a page of that leech's book and be an omen that would cause disasters, toppling over skyscrapers or collapsing bridges, killing people that way. Maybe malice wasn't the road, maybe it could have avoided its current predicament if it was a bit more kind to the mortals it so eagerly killed. It could have been one of the few cryptids revered as something good, a savior to humanity, a patron saint which lived up to its name. Helping mortals advance, defending them against other entities that wished to feed off them. It could have gained just as much if not more attention by being kind to the mortals, instead of latching onto their nostalgia and using its form to harm it could have been a proper cartoon cat using their positive emotions rather than the negative ones to maintain on earth. All those ideas passed through its mind but it couldn't help but feel that no matter what it did the ending would be the same, even if given a second chance to repent it's body would still be melting into a putrid pile of meat. As its senses dulled and it could no longer feel the Long Horse's skull in its hands it knew death had come for it, or at least for its body that it inhabited.

Death or the death of its body was cold, not frigid but cold nonetheless, the feeling was almost familiar in a way. Despite its body finally rotting and its eyes closing for what would be the final time somehow it maintained its senses. It could still smell, hear, see, feel, taste, but all of them were numbed to the point it couldn't pick up on anything exact. What it could see though was an ever expanding black that stretched out for miles, a complete and utter void with nothing but itself alone in it, alone with a deafening silence. It wondered if this is truly where it came from, it had been so many years since it fashioned that form for itself that it had forgotten what the abyss was like, was this where it originated from? It doubted it strongly, although an abyss would be an apt description of what it saw it knew whatever it was in wasn't that. It still clung onto the memories of who it was instead of having all that stripped away, it was in a weird in-between. A limbo, a line where neither death nor life treaded, where time meant nothing and space was but a mere concept. Of course the only other thing was the silence, the silence which allowed it to be alone with its thoughts for what would be an eternity.

Or at least, that's what it assumed.

No, by some miracle it seemed this wouldn't be all that existence had in store for it. A voice broke through the silence and drew its attention, what would have been death was interrupted by the unsure words of man. A man who sounded confused and scared, an all to mortal emotion.

"Hello? Anybody here?"

Its eyes opened back up to find not its body rotten and diseased but instead perfectly intact. Yellow eyes glowed in the dark allowing it to see everything in clear view, the scenery was that of its mall before nature took over, before its global massacre. Down the hall shined what one could only assume was a flashlight of someone intruding on the space it took shelter in. It didn't know how, why, but it nonetheless knew that in some way it was brought back to either before its giant mistake or to a new world entirely. That didn't matter though, what mattered was doing something different this time around. Standing up and letting its long body graze the ceiling it emerged from its corner and towards the mortal. All those ideas that had ran through its head while it died were quickly forgotten, one idea prevailing among them.

"Huh? What's that?"

A grin formed across its face going from ear to ear. The end would be the same now matter what it did, so as it stepped into the light it knew what it would do instead.

"Wha-... What the fuck..."

With a newfound appreciation for the mortals it hunted it would take time this run around. After all this run wouldn't be that different, bones would break, skin ripped clean off, tears of those who begged for mercy would fall on the ground.

"Oh god... OH GOD!"

As it lunged forward ready to make the mortal suffer it knew the exact process this time around. It would savor each and every kill it came across, prolonging and allowing the mortals to eventually kill themselves off while it would take a singular one each time it pleased, drawing out their suffering as much as possible. It would savor the kill instead of letting greed force its hand to slaughter everything. After all, it was just one big rerun…

A rerun of its favorite episode.

[smartbutuncertified]

It amazes me how many people on this site consider themselves progressive and use references to disability and our diagnoses as insults, or even straight up use ableist slurs as intended: to slur people. 

Category 1 I most frequently see represented by various “Oh you must have brain damage” comments. “You have brain rot” “What gave you brain worms?” and “op has a smooth brain” are modern ones, along with classics like “You have brain damage.” and “Were you dropped on your head as a child?”

I recommend replacing these with naming the actual problems. People not listening, not wanting to listen. People being ignorant, being bigots, or being ignorant bigots. People just doing things that they did not think through. Constantly associating people’s shitty opinions, bad behavior, and straight up mistakes with brain damage is really damn ableist. 

Category 2 I usually see hitting people with personality disorders and disorders involving psychosis. “Narcissistic abuser”, “Psychotic piece of shit”, etc. Outside of tumblr, “autistic” is also used as an insult, but there seem to be enough of us here that that’s not accepted here. 

Again, name the behaviors. “My mother was selfish and emotionally abused me.” “My ex was controlling and had anger issues”. Our diagnoses are not shortcuts for you to talk about shitty people.

Category 3 is most astonishing to see on here. “Freak” and “psycho” are used on here to directly slur people in violent, hateful ways, and It horrifies and astonishes me that people think that this is acceptable. 

That, worse, it often is acceptable. I have never seen anyone get flack for using the word “freak” to violently slur someone. It is confusing and upsetting to see a slur with a violently ableist history being used so freely. “They’re one of those fucking freaks.” is just as violent as “They’re one of those fucking queers.” or “They’re one of those fucking transgenders.” These words are perfectly fine for people to use as self identifiers, but not as slurs. If you see the first sentence as more acceptable than the others, I request that you think about why. 

For a replacement: don’t! Don’t use slurs to slur people! You can argue about what people have done and what they believe from here to sunday, but don’t use violent slurs against them! Even if they reclaim those slurs, you damn well shouldn't use them as slurs at them. There is a massive damn difference between reclamation and pride and people opting to hurl those slurs. 

To close off this post, I want to acknowledge that it is centric on mental illness and neurodivergence. This is because that is most of my personal context for being slurred and insulted. This should not be considered a comprehensive list, and people with disabilities that are not centered are encouraged to add on.

I request that people reblog this if possible. I am so deeply tired of these things.

[rosy-wooyoung]

Let’s get emotional…

I know no one will read this but i’m still putting it out there!

today is my account anniversary!! 🥳🥳

I created this blog on the 14.12.2019, and a year later, nothing really changed. It’s just me, still sitting at my desk, my whole back hurting with cold hands and my pathetically low self-esteem. It was one boring evening, I remember, I had just eaten dinner and I rushed to my computer to come back on Tumblr to read more ATEEZ content because I was fascinated by them, their talent and stage presence. (I still am, don’t worry) And then, I thought damn, I wanna write for them as well. You know what?

Fuck it. Imma do it.

I put the task of finding a username aside and start feeling inspiration flooding in my mind. I spend the entire evening writing as the words come, not caring about the coherence, the grammar nor the consistency of my writing, I just type and type until my fingers are cramping and my brain lagging. It’s just an amazing feeling when you don’t have to rack your brains to find ideas or words, I just had to think of an ATEEZ member, and the imagination would immediately submerge my mind. 

I truly aspire to find back the motivation I had a year ago.

The next morning, I even skip breakfast because I wanted to create, brainstorm, rewrite and correct the works I had produced the night before. I completely ditch my uni homework - don’t do that kids - until the end of the afternoon, where I post a note, introducing myself to the atiny Tumblr community. I was very anxious and shy before posting my first imagine, but I was immediately welcomed with likes, 20 on the first day to be exact. It was HUGE for me. 

I’m someone extremely self-conscious and very hard on myself, so it was kind of a struggle to post content out on the Internet for strangers to read. I’ve always feared judgement, I’ve bathed in it since the day I was born and I can’t seem to get rid of it. 20+ fics are still rotting in my drafts, I’m just too insecure to release them, so I ignore them and always search for new content to write about. I’m also scared to disappoint, but that’s another story. Aside from that, I’m really grateful because I’ve never received this much love and support in my life since I started this account. Whether is keyboard smashing in the reblog section or just someone saying “uwu that was so cute 🥺”, my day is automatically better. I have never received support or compliments from my parents, siblings or friends that I thought were the closest. Never. And it’s a weird yet great feeling!!

The first two months were amazing. By the beginning of February, I had hit the 200-followers milestone. It was something unbelievable for me. You may think that I’m exaggerating, but I was really thinking that I would only get like maximum 50 followers, and I would have still been happy about it. My account was doing great, but at this point, it was my health that started going downhill.

The pandemic and the stress from it aggravated everything, weakening my heart to the point of needing urgent surgeries (2, almost 3 in October, where there was a risk for me to d*e. Great when you’re a young woman who only spent her twenty first years of existence studying and worrying about her future :/). I get stressed out extremely easily and my doctor diagnosed me with severe anxiety and depression a few years ago. And guess what? They were acting up of course, so nothing was by my side. I was lost about my future and my career – I still am haha (pain) – and it was a hard time for me, for us. I’m still not at my best, but at least I’m trying, that’s what matters the most, right? This blog and the people I met there were my source of comfort and light, my safe place, it helps me a lot to just read or laugh at what I see in my dash to make me forget about everything that is bothering me. I met wonderful, supportive people on there and I can’t find the right words to truly express how I am feeling. And here I am right now, a year later, Tumblr being my solace because I can read really really good fics and wips, as well as exchanging with other atinys and people from other fandoms.

I still have those moments of doubt when I’m about to post something like, will this be appreciated? Isn’t it too cliche, too bad, too fluffy, grammatically correct, cool enough, aesthetic enough, cute enough, did someone already write something along those lines without me knowing it? Will I get accused of stealing or plagiarising? 

I can’t stop overthinking, but I’m trying to work on it, I really am, even if it’s hard. It’s really not something easy and I get defeated quite quickly, but at least I’m trying.

Even if I lost loved ones during this year (friends that ghosted me for other people, my grandpa passing away from cancer, watching and knowing acquaintances dying bc of covid…) I’ve got to know beautiful angels on here, my mutuals and my followers!! Even if we don’t talk 24/7, I really love and appreciate every single one of you. I know we’re just internet friends, but you really count for me. Please excuse me if you’re tired of seeing me being constantly apologising or being weird and absolutely not funny, I’m trying to become a better person. I absolutely adore when you mention me in tag games or send me love and support via asks or private messages, it makes my heart go really warm. If it were possible, I’d give each single one of you a hug and a big kiss on the cheek because you all deserve it and I love you.

Thank you @atbzkingdom, @closer-stars, @barsformars, @trashlord-007, @ateez-little-star, @tinkerbellwoo, @chrryhwa, @ateezlips, and everyone that I missed that follow me and support me, I luv you all sm :-]

Sorry if this post doesn’t make sense, I just wanted to try and express my gratitude as well as my love for everything you gave me. I hope 2021 will be better, kinder for all of us, and I wish everyone reading this to be(come) happy and healthy.

with all my love, rosy ♥

[impracticaldemon]

Dark Justice

Fairy Tail fanfiction by impracticaldemon ~ 2800 words  [now on AO3 and FFnet ~ links in author-reblog]

Raijinshuu Appreciation Week ~ Freed Justine

A/Note:  A little darker than I normally write, but hopefully an entertaining read for fans of Freed the Dark.  Setting is before Battle of Fairy Tail. Warning:  general mention of torture and implied abuse; no graphic descriptions

Dark Justice

They’d been hunting him for the past two days, or so they thought.  He’d been poking around the entrance to their lair, or club, or whatever they were calling it, and they’d noticed and given chase.  Or so they thought.  In fact, it was the other way around, and if he’d had an easier way to take them down without endangering innocents, they’d never have seen him coming.

Still, there was a certain elegance in doing it like this:  luring them out; allowing them to catch glimpses; raising and then dashing their expectations, again and again, until they were frustrated and eager for the kill.  Freed knew that some part of him—the part that still felt at home on the rare occasions that he visited Fairy Tail—preferred to fight being sure that his enemies had weapons in their hands and murder in their hearts.  Sophistry, really.  A truly good man would never unleash the powers of torture and fear, not even to fight his enemies.

“I am a killer, and my sword is drenched in blood.  But perhaps there are some crimes so monstrous that they are best judged by those who are themselves monsters…”  He was quoting, or at least paraphrasing, something he’d once heard, from a warrior who had indeed taken countless lives over the years, whether in battle, or by assassination.  The man had been speaking about an atrocity that he, in full awareness of his own darkness, condemned as evil.  The words had resonated with Freed, and inevitably came to mind when he allowed the Demon to pronounce sentence on the truly lawless.

He’d led his would-be hunters away from the ghetto where they met for their horrifying games, and into the city’s Old Town, now long uninhabited, and falling to ruin.  And everywhere he’d passed, he’d drawn runes.  Runes of warning, runes of misdirection, runes of entrapment, and runes of pain.

“What the hell!  Who does this guy think he is?”

The first message had warned that going further would ensnare them, and that they should go back and turn themselves into the authorities.  Predictably, the message had made them angry, instead of cautious. And yet, it had been meant in earnest, if only as a final means to confirm that they were determined to choose murder over atonement.

The first man to walk through Freed’s magical warning didn’t notice, at first, that his friends were no longer behind him.  Once he had, he tried to run back to them, but after only a few steps there was a purple glimmer, and then he found himself tangled in magic like a fly in an invisible web.  

The demon appeared an instant later, black and armoured and exuding palpable danger.  It raised a clawed hand.  “Pain.”  Light flared as purple marks activated across the man’s face, and he cried out in agony. His body convulsed as his nervous system was turned against him, and hundreds of nerves sang a litany of anguish back to his brain.

“Varic Rimbul. Children are not toys to be broken for your entertainment, just because they are poor, and hungry, and unprotected. You have shown no mercy, and will receive none.”

Freed left the man screaming, and didn’t look back.  The person who had hired Freed to investigate and deal with the ugly situation would be told where to find the criminals Freed captured.  The man Varic might be found before his heart gave out.

The second man in the group also found himself separated from his cronies almost immediately after mocking Freed’s warning to turn back and submit willingly.  When Freed reached him, he was thrashing vainly against unseen bonds, his eyes forced to stare unblinking into the sun while he awaited his prey-turned-executioner.  He was a tall, handsome man, with a determined jaw, and an athletic build. He’d been the leader of the group, and he still retained an aura of power, despite the strain on his face and the sweat that dampened his beautifully tailored shirt.

“Sorm Dalbec, you have broken the law, as well as the trust placed in you as a magistrate of this city. You took pleasure in telling your victims that they were unwanted and wouldn’t be missed, knowing that despair and degradation would increase the pain they endured at your hands.  Who will miss you, now that you are in my hands?”

The man tried to curse and lash out at his unknown assailant, but his bonds only tightened, and he soon found it difficult to breathe.  Pain was building behind his sun-bound eyes, and terror gripped him. He didn’t see the dark figure raise a hand to invoke the runes that wound around his chest and head.

“Fear,” commanded Freed, and then, “Despair.”  

He left Sorm to his fate. The man’s mind might survive, or it might not.  Freed knew him for a mage, although the man had kept his abilities secret.  Those abilities had allowed him to delude those who became suspicious, and to intimidate those who tried to escape his control.  He must have thought himself invincible until stepping into Freed’s snare and discovering a power far beyond his.

The person who had hired Freed the Dark—by that name—had been the wife of the mayor, a perceptive woman who knew evil when she saw it, and was willing to risk her own comfort and safety in order to bring it down.  When her husband couldn’t convince the city council to take appropriate action, she’d known it was compromised, and had made her own arrangements to get a message to Fairy Tail.  Freed still didn’t know what Master Makarov had thought of the request, which had added that ‘only one who walks with darkness can help us now.’  When he’d met with the woman, he’d recognized a face from the past—an unusual person, who had neither adored nor reviled him.  She knew him as a man who would uphold the letter of the law, or a contract, or a promise, no matter where it led him.  So, she’d hired him to uproot the evil in her city, by whatever means, understanding what she was asking.

He had three left to find and bring to justice.  Two were already trapped, like the leader and his swaggering second-in-command.  He granted them the fates that had been determined as soon as they ignored his warning and crossed into his maze, choosing him over a more forgiving justice.  That they hadn’t truly understood the consequences of their decision didn’t bother him.  They had chosen darkness long before he had been hired.  Freed sometimes—more often than not—felt that it was only correct that those who lived by the sword should die by it.  He accepted that for himself as well, of course.

The last man was more careful, and had somehow managed to avoid the disorientation of the others. He had been marked with the first of Freed’s runes upon entering the area, but that just made him easier to locate and manipulate.  The way he’d managed to avoid the traps that had ensnared his companions meant that he was more dangerous than Freed had realized, which in itself made him interesting.

He found the man—a mere bureaucrat, and invisible in comparison to the others of the group—at the top of an old church tower.  Maybe he thought a demon couldn’t enter a holy place.  But even if the place had still retained some aura of sanctity, it is doubtful that it would have hindered Freed, unless he had decided that some law of sanctuary applied.  But the concept of sanctuary varied from place to place, and generally required somebody to grant, or at least uphold, it.  Freed barely gave it a passing thought, here in this place of crumbling walls and rotting timber.

“Stay away from me, Demon!”

Freed watched the man pick his way across the belfry floor.  An instant later, a sizzling blast of heat erupted at Freed’s feet—apparently the man held some kind of magical device.  It would have been easy to side-step, but it was even better to simply ignore it, allowing his quarry’s fear to rise in the face of an impervious foe.

“I warned you to stay back!”

This time Freed did move out of the way—the second attack was far more dangerous than the first, and seemed to emanate from the man himself.  That was odd.  Freed rose on enchanted wings to face his adversary, who stood defiantly against one wall, both hands out before him in a strange warding gesture.

“Arven Tilmus.  You are guilty of breaking the law and abandoning your trust as a city official.  The orphaned children of this city were in your care, and you betrayed them in every way.”

“It made me do it!” shrieked the man, hands still held out before him.  “It wasn’t my fault!”

Freed gestured, and a line of runes formed quickly about the man.  But something was wrong; the magic was fading almost as quickly as he shaped it. Eyes narrowing, Freed launched himself forward, senses straining to decipher the puzzle.  He invoked magic just before he hit the invisible barrier protecting the man—he’d already sensed it—and it barely slowed him.  Arven Tilmus hit the stone wall behind him with an audible crunch, and his head lolled sideways as he slid to the floor. He’d died on impact.  

Freed immediately moved into a defensive stance, scanning the space around him.  He might not have Bickslow’s ability to see souls, but he was very good at sensing energy signatures of all kinds, like most powerful mages.

“Why are you interfering, Freed Justine, called Freed the Dark?”  The soft, raspy voice came from the other side of the tower, just as Freed was turning in that direction.  “You are an assassin, an expert spy, a master of forbidden magics.  Who are you to judge?”  There was a pause, and the barely-sensed presence murmured:  “No… Those are the wrong questions… Who hired you? Who brought you here?”

Freed ignored most of the commentary, simply filing away the fact that this entity knew who he was—or at least, who he had been, at one time.  To the extent that he’d ever been an assassin, he’d grown out of the role long ago, and certainly before joining Fairy Tail.  Or perhaps joining Fairy Tail had been a way for him to reject, or at least put a clear end to, that part of his past.  Regardless, right now he had a job to do.

Outside the tower, lines of runes started to gather, pulled from various locations nearby.  It was faster than drawing them, but still required effort, since they’d been designed primarily as static traps.  Freed was almost ready to attack when the entity he faced—he still didn’t know what it was—recognized its danger.  For a moment, Freed saw a flickering, quasi-substantial form, like a humanoid miasma, and then the thing moved, inhumanly fast, not to escape, but to attack.

“You aren’t really a demon, you know,” said the weird voice, right in Freed’s ear.  He could feel the thing enveloping him, trying to break through his personal defenses, both mental and physical.  “Humans create demons, they don’t really become them, and you’re still very, very human, under all that armour.”

It was starting to force its way in; he could sense its anger, and its hunger, and its reflexive cruelty, all ready to seek out and join the darkness already within him.  Except that Freed didn’t derive pleasure from cruelty, although he could be cruel.  His darkness was the darkness of justice untempered by compassion, and logic that ignored all emotion.  He wasn’t hungry, so much as empty, but even that had become less true once he had joined Fairy Tail, and formed the Raijinshuu.  And how could he be empty, or hungry, when his devotion to Laxus held such a large place in his being?

Freed extended his will through the muffling cloud that clung to him, and started to pull his strands of runes tighter and tighter about himself.  He hadn’t been prepared for a non-corporeal entity, but he was neither defenseless, nor without a reasonable counterattack, given just a little time to reorganize.  He certainly had the strength of mind and body to ignore any discomfort the entity could inflict in the short term.  The real test was yet to come.

As the runes began to wind around them, he felt the first sting of true pain—there was no way to avoid damage to himself along with the thing that was trying to possess him. The entity struggled against his trap, caught between the encircling magic and Freed’s refusal to allow it to possess him. At first it made threats, pointing out that Freed might damage himself to the point of insanity, or death, given the power he’d turned against himself.  Then it tried to bargain, promising everything from a peaceful departure—to where?—to restitution—how?  Time and time again, it crashed against the shield of Freed’s logic.  There was no reason for him to trust the entity over himself; therefore, his best course was to proceed, despite the risks.

Eventually, the thing seemed to give in, and it no longer attempted to possess him in its attempts to get free of Freed’s magical constraints.  But Freed had the patience and cunning of any natural predator, and although he appeared to relax, it was merely a feint.  He could endure the pain a little longer; it was his own magic, after all, and a part of him.  Sure enough, after a few minutes had passed, the entity launched a final, all-out attack on Freed’s senses, strong enough to cause damage—real or psychic was impossible to tell, at this point.  Freed used the attack to further pinpoint the baleful thing, and with perfect execution, scooped it up within his flexible cage of runes and away from his body and mind.

“Who are you?” he asked, carefully inspecting his hastily form container for imperfections.

“Why would I tell you? My… kind… aren’t easy to destroy. One day I’ll escape, and the damage I’ll do will make the sufferings here seem small by comparison.”

Freed finished confirming that his seals were perfect.  He regarded the pulsing, only half-seen cage.

“If you escape, you’ll come after me?”

“No, I’ll come after those you care about.  I’ll watch you suffer as the people dearest to you succumb to all the worst of human behaviour.  I’ve seen enough in your mind to know who is most important—Laxus Dreyar, and Makarov Dreyar, and a man called Bickslow, and a woman named Evergreen.  And then beyond that—”

“There will be no such retribution on your part,” Freed said coldly.  “You’ve mistaken my intent.”

With a wave, Freed began to collapse the magical cage in on itself, folding and refolding the runes, combining some and eliminating others.  The entity shrieked at him as it realized what he intended to do, before begging for its existence.

“No.  You are responsible for incalculable grief and pain in this city, and I was given the right to judge you.  I have judged you and found you guilty.  Moreover, you gave away a great deal about yourself while trying to possess me.  There is no advantage in allowing you to continue.

Slowly, inexorably, the runes began to annihilate the force caught between them.  Freed waited and watched, until the last rune folded in on itself and vanished, destroying the last vestige of the entity that had terrorized the town via its most vulnerable children. Then he did what he’d intended all along, and reported back to the mayor’s wife.

“Thank you for your work, Freed Justine.”  The woman bowed, and handed Freed his fee.  She eyed the ugly marks on his face, and neck and chest, but didn’t ask.  “You said it’s gone?”

“Yes.”

“Well then.  Thank you again.  I’ll inform the town of what you’ve done.

They regarded each other. Freed suddenly had to ask:  “Why me?  Fairy Tail has so many good mages for hire.”

“But as I told you and Master Makarov in my letter, I wasn’t looking for good mage.  I was looking for Freed the Dark.  The Demon.  As they say… ‘Set a thief to catch a thief.’ “

“So you conjured up a demon.”  Freed looked thoughtful, but rose soon after.

“You won’t stay to dinner, Freed Justine?”

“No, but thank you for the offer, My Lady.”

“Freed…”

“You should really come to Fairy Tail yourself,” he added to the woman.  “I don’t think you’d be turned away.”

“Perhaps, one day. But for now, I have a husband to teach, and two children to raise, and a city to rebuild.  Magic will have to wait.  Goodbye, Freed.”

“Goodbye, My Lady.”

[END]

Comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! I’d like to hear what you think of this, since it’s a little different from my usual writing.

[use-your-telescope]

HELLO I AM SO HAPPY YOU HAVE ARRIVED!!!

Knowing you accidentally read this chapter while at work on Monday and that you were like “just you wait until I get a chance to reblog this” had me constantly checking my tumblr notifications 😂😂😂😂😂😂 can you tell I get so excited about when you scream about Loki and Theo?!

Yeah, we get Loki in a bow tie. 😂 I like where your mind went with him noticing it was crooked and making it crooked on purpose, but I could also see it becoming crooked from Thor messing with it on his brother’s behalf 😂

I am a Sam Wilson stan through and through - I feel like he is hilarious and so down to earth. I want to be his best friend.

HAHAHA yes I will admit my goal was to give the ick, but not to the extent of wanting to kill him off! He’s not evil, just not endgame lol.

And yes, show time!! As much as we have a slow burn, there are some other things happening in the universe that uh, might be important later on 😂 it only took fifteen chapters for the shadow creatures to reappear! Now that the bandaid of writing them has been ripped off, however, there will be more of them to come. And lots more Theo magic!

Also, LOL - You Belong with Me would absolutely be accurate for Loki if he realized he was falling for Theo. Your comment gave me a funny idea though 😉

You’re a gem! Thank you for the constant encouragement and support of me as a person, and for the diehard shipping of Loki and Theo so I’m not alone in my absolute brain rot 💕💕

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 17: It's a Curse, It's a Sure Sign

Summary: Theo and Chris accidentally make their red carpet debut at the Met Gala, to a night full of surprises. 

Author's Notes: Hi everyone! 

So first, I just want to say a big thanks for sticking with this and following along. If you happen to be one of the people who follows me on tumblr, you may know that the brain gremlins were hitting real hard this week and messing with me something fierce. I’ve had a temporary reprieve, but they still suck. I’m behind on replying to things, but I appreciate y’all the same.

Anyways, the next chapter won’t go up until two weeks from now, since I’m on call and then it’s midterms… So, keep an eye out on March 10th for the next update.

Contents: Canon-typical combat. Implied conflict between a couple? 

Word Count: 6,779

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist Song: Monster - PVRIS

Where do I begin? I can't explain it Know you wasted (Twenty plus years) Like photos fading in, I see 'em changing All the faces (Waiting up all night) The Met Gala.

The motherfucking Met Gala.

If someone asked Theo a year ago if she could ever imagine herself attending, she would have laughed them out of the building — no, out of the country.

And yet, she stood on the steps to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in Alexander McQueen, paparazzi shouting her name from all sides as flash bulbs from cameras percolated her field of vision. Chris stood beside her, one hand on the small of her back as he flashed a blinding grin at the expanse of people before them.

They hadn’t planned to make the Met Gala their red carpet debut. Sure, they knew the other would be in attendance, and their management teams planned certain elements of the evening to ensure they would have time together… Once they got inside. However, one of the staff managing the procession of celebrities assumed that Theo had somehow been separated from Chris in the photo line-up, despite waiting with her fellow Avengers. Though Theo politely assured the staffer that she did not need to skip the line, the staffer only seemed more embarrassed by what they perceived as their mistake as Theo refused the offers to join Chris, until Theo relented out of pity and allowed the staffer to bring her over to where Chris posed for photographs. 

Naturally, paparazzi went wild asking for photos of the couple, and of course the oh-so-charming Chris had to accept. 

“I didn’t think we were taking photos tonight,” Chris leaned in and whispered in Theo’s ear; Theo feigned a smile, pretending to giggle at something he said so no one would catch onto the conversation. 

Chris looked back at the camera, shifting his weight to offer a fresh pose for photos.

Theo turned towards him, rising onto her tip toes so she could whisper her reply into his ear. “I know - the event staffer who brought me here thought it was a mix-up in the arrival order.” Theo lowered herself back to her feet as Chris leaned down, nodding at her to continue as he smiled for the cameras. “Despite my insistence that I didn’t need to take photos with you, she kept getting more and more embarrassed - I felt so bad that I finally said yes, just so she wouldn’t cry.” 

Straightening up, Chris turned and flashed a sweet smile to Theo that could have melted the iciest of hearts. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised - you’re always looking out for other people.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple to cheers from the crowd.

Before the conversation could continue, another staff member ushered Chris inside, while a third staff member instructed Theo to pose for solo photos. Without anyone else to make the experience less awkward, she tried to remember the tricks that the Avengers’ marketing team taught her about taking flattering photos. 

Either the time passed faster than Theo expected or the staff member in charge of moving the line took pity on her, because the next thing Theo knew she heard her teammates hollering at her, and turned to find them sauntering towards her. 

“Hey!” Theo cheered, arms wide in an enthusiastic greeting as her peers gathered around, everyone spacing themselves out and adjusting their clothes in preparation for group photos. 

“Thanks for ditching us back there,” Yelena teased with a wink, nudging Theo as she passed by. 

As Yelena spoke, Loki positioned himself to stand behind Theo. Dressed in a custom brocade suit so precisely tailored that it could have been painted onto him, there was no question that Loki would appear on the many “best dressed” lists that would be published in the coming days. He offered Theo a silent greeting in the form of a cheshire smirk and subtle nod, but that wasn’t what caught Theo’s attention.

“Your bowtie is crooked,” Theo pursed her lips, twisting away from the camera to fiddle with the piece of fabric around Loki’s neck. “How did you get this far into the photocall without noticing?"

“Darling, it’s fine,” Loki playfully swatted her hands away, all the while chuckling softly. “You need not fuss over me like a mother hen.”

Bucky snorted, watching the exchange from close by as he settled into position. 

“Watch out Buck, I’ll come fuss over you too.” Theo warned, earning a laugh out of Shuri, whose custom Wakandan attire brought a fresh interpretation to the Gala’s theme and somehow managed to be fun, trendy, and regal at the same time. 

Odds were high that Queen Ramonda had something to do with the regal part.  

Gathering the Avengers for a group photo was best compared to herding cats - getting over a dozen people to look at the same place and smile for the cameras at the same time without becoming distracted turned out to be much harder than Theo expected. After the first five minutes, the poor event staffers tasked with wrangling the Avengers gave up, allowing the Avengers to relax and chat with each other and take photos in smaller groups instead. 

There were natural groupings that photographers clamored for. The military boys - Steve, Bucky, Rhodes, and Sam - stood with heads held high and chests puffed ever-so-slightly, with hands resting at their sides as if they were about to be called to attention. If the quartet had chosen to wear their formal military attire instead of tuxedos, the United States government would have probably used the picture for military recruitment. 

Bruce, Tony, Peter, and Shuri - who for some reason had become known as ‘the science bros’ - also posed together for photographs. Unlike the soldiers, who posed with such uniformity that it was almost eerie, the varied level of comfort in front of the cameras and diverse personalities in this group created an almost humorous level of contrast. Tony and Shuri, whether because of their upbringings or infallible charisma, worked the photographers with charming jokes and quick banter, while Peter and Bruce seemed perfectly happy to laugh along and let their friends compete for the spotlight.

Other pairings were all but required: the Widows, the Asgardians, and the Wakandans took their turns in front of the cameras. Theo took photos alongside Dr. Strange, because the general public apparently loved the idea of two doctors who could both use magic, though in reality Theo had only ever talked to the man a few times. 

In between, photographers snapped pictures of the many assorted conversations, as well as snapping posed pictures of the people in said conversations. A second attempt to fix Loki’s bow tie was caught on camera, which subsequently led to a posed photo of Loki and Theo, as well as a photo of Loki and Theo with Wanda and Vision.

After holding a photogenic expression for enough time that her face hurt, Theo nearly jumped for joy when the event staff glanced at a clock, then moved as if to dismiss the Avengers; however, before they could make an announcement, a photographer shouted from the endless sea of faces: “Magic users – we need a group photo!” 

Entirely aware that even a moment of displeasure would infinitely be recorded on camera and plastered across the internet, Theo channeled her inner Chris by maintaining a forced enthusiasm, gesturing for the other three magic wielders to gather around. Sandwiched between Loki and Wanda, Theo wrapped her arms around her friends and flashed yet another smile for the infinite barrage of flashes.

Blinded by the lights, the announcement from the event staff that there was no more time for photos may as well have been a voice speaking from the heavens… A very tired, mildly exasperated voice, granted, but still, the news came as a relief.

“Finally – I’m starving!” Sam complained with a dramatic toss of his head backward, making it sound like he’d never eaten in his life. Realistically, they were 30 yards from the entrance - all they had to do was make it inside and there would be plenty of appetizers and drinks for them to nosh on as they toured the exhibition for which the Gala was meant to celebrate. 

This year, the Costume Institute’s exhibition had been titled: “The Anatomy of Fashion: Representations of the Human Body in Couture,” and the gala’s theme - “Body as Muse” - left a variety of options for how attendees could interpret the prompt. Theo, for example, wore a piece from Alexander McQueen’s  Anatomy ii collection - a one-sleeved gown made of sheer white tulle, the bodice and singular sleeve covered with intricate silver beading that depicted medical textbook-style illustrations of the female anatomy, while the skirt featured layers of gathered tulle that gave the overall piece a breezy, almost ethereal feel with every movement. 

Others took a more subtle approach: at first glance, the brocade of Loki’s suit appeared to be nothing more than a random print; however, upon closer inspection, the pattern depicted lotus imagery inspired by Georgia O’Keeffe paintings - long thought to be representations of the female anatomy, despite O’Keeffe’s denials of the connection. Regardless, flowers had a long history of affiliation with the female form; in Egyptian and Indian mythology, the lotus had very direct associations with female anatomy, so the suit still fit the theme.

Seeing red flags in the morning It's a warning, a warning (it's a sure sign) Where do I begin, I can't explain it Now you're wasted How could you let them do this to you?

From when they entered, it could have been some sort of fever dream: cocktails and passed appetizers as they toured the museum, passing through exhibitions with pauses for special entertainment in certain wings. Lush floral arrangements decorated the corridors and stairways, accented by soft uplighting that shifted tones based on the art in each respective gallery. Time passed in a blur of small talk and compliments interspersed with taking in the art around them. 

The only thing detracting from the fever dream was Chris.

He meant well. Of that, Theo was certain. 

But whenever Theo wanted to pause and really take in each piece of art, Chris wanted to find familiar faces and catch up; however, he insisted Theo accompany him. He never raised his voice or became aggressive, but the pleading tone and puppy dog eyes became more and more common as they continued through the museum.

The pleading became so incessant that Theo almost wished that their respective staff teams hadn’t planned for the pair to traverse the galleries together, relying on the dinner together to give the pair quality time together. 

Still, Theo did her best to grin and bear it, biting her tongue and smiling along when Chris ignored the multitude of masterpieces around them in favor of the hottest tiktok influencer. 

Once in a while, Theo looked around the room and caught Loki looking over at her. She almost wished he would swoop in and rescue her the way he had the first night, even if the thought made her a bad feminist. 

Luckily, it wasn’t long before everyone was ushered in for dinner, and she wasn’t alone - Loki and Wanda were both seated at the same table, while many of the Avengers weren’t far off. 

Theo told herself that she’d visit the museum  to actually view the art some other day - until then, it was time to play the role of socialite, which meant getting through this dinner.

Going on a whim trying to erase it Leaving traces (Sweat, blood, and tears dry) Your head on the pavement, know you're jaded Sick of playing (Waiting up all night)

Amidst the din of conversation and clinking silverware, the power cut out.

Breathy gasps and murmured comments rippled through the room. No one moved, wondering if the sudden darkness was meant to announce the night’s entertainment.

The only source of light in the room came from the electric candles in the centerpieces of the tables, which did little to offset the vast darkness of the massive room. 

From the corner of her eye, Theo spotted a pair of event staffers frantically running around the outskirts of the room.

“I don’t think this is intentional,” Theo warned, locking eyes with Loki and Wanda. “Something’s wrong.” 

Theo, Loki, and Wanda slowly rose to their, cradling orbs of light in hand as they searched for any clues about what was wrong.

The clang of metal against metal rang out, followed by heavy footsteps pounding against the ground at a furious pace; they stopped with a halt, interrupted by a heavy thud. 

Barely visible in the dark, Theo made out the vague silhouettes of the other Avengers standing at attention. 

Around the room, the guests remained in their seats, whispers of panic growing into a frenetic buzz as they desperately looked around for the source of what caused the disturbance while they struggled to adjust to the lack of light.

Bracing herself for the worst, Theo flicked her wrists, runes briefly flashing on each arm before her gown disappeared in a cosmic swirl, replaced by the armor Shuri crafted for her. 

A dark form slithered past, just skirting Theo’s line of sight, followed by a second.

“Shadow creatures!”

Theo barely managed to force the words out of her mouth before a gust of arctic air rushed past her, accompanied by a dark, sinewy limb that swallowed any trace of magical light. 

Chaos erupted. 

From the darkness, a barrage of shadow creatures descended upon the room. 

Guests knocked over chairs as they rushed for the exits, screaming and colliding with each other as they failed to navigate the gallery in the dark.

The creatures gave chase, tendrils of pitch black lashing out in every direction as if their sole intent was to destroy everything in sight. 

Theo made a beeline towards the exit. No stranger to mass casualty incidents, she knew that any bottlenecks would be a prime opportunity for shadow creatures to attack and maximize casualties. The best way to prevent the damage would be to monitor the exits.

She darted between people, climbing across overturned chairs and jumping from table to table when it was impossible to push through the crowd.

As she ran, Theo conjured up an entire galaxy’s worth of stars that floated overhead. With a sharp wave, they shot ahead to illuminate the path to the exit.

No longer obscured by the dark, a collection of shadow creatures situated in prime striking distance of the exit snarled, preparing to attack. 

“Doors!” She shouted, hoping any one of her teammates would know what she meant.

“On it—“ Tony, already in his Iron Man suit, zipped past overhead, hands outstretched as he fired a pair of blasts at the creatures.

The blasts landed right on target, making contact with the two creatures closest to the door. With a sharp, grating cry, they collapsed into nothing more than a pile of dust.

“We need to secure exits and evacuate civilians—“ Steve commanded, the comm in Theo’s suit making it sound like Steve was beside her. 

“We’re already on it,” Theo confirmed, using both hands to reshape the galaxy so it formed a protective tunnel around the exit. A shadow creature tried to launch itself through one side of the tunnel, only to disintegrate upon contact. 

At another exit, Wanda took a similar approach, leaving the others to guide the guests to the exit and go on the offensive. 

“There are a lot more of these things than usual,” Sam complained, whizzing around the room as he rained fire on the seemingly endless stream of creatures.

“They’re coming from deeper in the museum,” Loki observed, slicing through a beast with an enchanted daggers just before it landed a blow on Shuri. 

Theo glanced back, scanning the room to get a read on the situation. 

“We need to take them out at the source–” Natasha started, only to be interrupted by Bucky. “What the hell are those?” 

“What do you see?” Theo followed up, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she craned her neck in a futile attempt to get a look.

“They’re like shadow people, but their eyes are glowing!”

“How many?” 

“5 or 6–”

“Someone cover this exit,” Theo demanded, “I’m coming!” 

As if anticipating Theo’s response, Strange appeared beside her, silently nodding at her to go. 

Throwing white flags in the morning It's a warning, a warning (It's a sure fire) Going on a whim, try to erase it All the traces How could you let them do this to you?

Theo didn’t have to go far to find the answer to her question. Standing behind the closest horde of Shadow creatures were a group of humanoid creatures, composed of shadow except for the black clocks that hid their faces. True to Bucky’s description, the only visible feature happened to be their eyes, which glowed a sort of octarine color that Theo hadn’t seen since her time on Aneterra.

Ice shot through her veins. 

At the sight of Theo, one waved an arm; with a tendril of smoke, they called back the shadow creatures, leaving nothing but an empty hallway between the Avengers and the shadowed beings. Only the emergency lights provided any reprieve from the near-overwhelming darkness.

“Who are you?” Steve demanded, taking one step towards the beings.

They stepped back, but did not speak.

Steve took a second step forward, observing the figures for any sign that they might attack.

The same figure that dispelled the creatures extended an arm, curling a finger towards the group as a silent challenge. 

“Enough of this–” Tony flew towards the group; like a flock of startled birds, they scattered in different directions, teleporting between shadows to expedite their retreat. “Split up and track them down!” Steve didn’t even finish the command before Theo herself turned to shadow and gave chase.

Up the main staircase, around the corner, sprinting through room after room and occasionally using the shadows as a shortcut, Theo and the shadow being played a game of cat and mouse: the figure remained just far enough that Theo could catch a glimpse and not lose track, but the moment Theo drew near they pulled some sort of maneuver to distance themselves and keep the game going.

Somewhere in the modern art gallery, Theo took a corner too quickly and stumbled, dropping to her hands and knees with a grunt. The brief slip-up was all it took for her to lose sight of the figure.

“Fuck!” Without anyone around, Theo’s curse echoed through the empty gallery. She sat back on her knees, struggling to catch her breath as she wracked her mind for what to do.

After drawing a blank, Theo brought one hand to her ear, pressing on her comm. “Guys, I lost–”

“Ah, the Silver Shadow…” A deep voice interrupted; Theo whipped around, eyes skittering about the gallery as she failed to place the sound. 

“... I’ve heard much about you.”

Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse, it's a sure sign Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse, it's a sure sign Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse, it's a sure sign Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse... How could you let them do this to you?

Unable to see the owner of the voice, the faintest gust of cold air and a sharp movement from the edge of Theo’s peripheral vision was the only warning Theo received before a blur of darkness careened towards her in some sort of an attack. 

She rolled to the side, barely escaping as what looked like some sort of blade slammed into the ground. Theo teleported backwards, rising to her feet and conjuring her blade. “I’m sorry, who are you?” 

Before Theo stood the figure that she assumed she had lost. With a curl of their fingers, they transformed before Theo’s eyes into a person. The cloak remained, obscuring everything except for the same eyes that glowed with octarine light. In one hand they held a shadow blade not dissimilar to Theo’s. 

The mystery person stepped towards Theo, but did not answer Theo’s question. Instead, The shrill cry of security alarms filled the air, a sharp contrast to the eerily empty room they stood in.

“Who are you?” Theo repeated the question as she stepped back and scanned her surroundings. 

“I’m… a fan, shall we say…” The figure drawled, holding out their hands in a sort of shrug. Beneath the hood, Theo imagined they offered some sort of impish grin.  “... Or not. It doesn’t matter.”

“Ah, weaponizing my pride. Well played,” Theo dryly replied, preparing an orb of magic in her free hand as she circled her opponent. “Do you have a name?”

“Not that you need to know.”  In turn, the figure spun their blade in their hand, and braced for attack.

“Tall, dark, and spooky it is, then.” Theo taunted, pointing the tip of her blade at her opponent. “Okay, let’s get the whole Shakespearean monologue about my inevitable doom over with, shall we?”

Her enemy laughed. “If you’d like to rush your death, be my guest!” 

The figure charged forward, blade held high as they launched an attack. 

Theo leapt back, parrying the blow before landing a hit on the mystery figure’s side. “You must either be very brave or very stupid to face me alone.”

The figure hardly faltered, absorbing the blow as if it were nothing. 

This wasn’t a normal person.

As the figure stumbled, they raised a hand and shot a ray of black electricity forward, hitting Theo. 

She froze, muscles tense as searing bolts of electricity tore through her body; as quickly as it started, it stopped, and Theo crumpled to the floor.

“You’re a spellcaster–” Theo choked out, pain ricocheting through her limbs as she pressed herself to her hands and knees. “... Should have seen that coming.” 

“That’s far from our only similarity,” The figure observed, tilting its head to the side as it waited for Theo’s next move. “For someone who is a sciondéité, you certainly aren’t the challenge I expected.” 

They knew.

It wasn’t the first time someone tried to use her identity against her and get into her head, but it certainly had been long enough that the comment caught her off guard, particularly with the circumstances. However, the other person failed to account for one important detail: Theo loved nothing more than proving people wrong.

Pulling herself back to her feet, Theo took advantage of the pause to conjure a collection of stars above her head. 

Theo charged forward and resumed the duel, firing the first of the stars at the figure as she took a swing.

They avoided Theo’s blade, but cried out as the star slashed their skin, drops of blood glistening against the stone floor. 

With a snarl, they brought their blade around in a dramatic swing, only to be blocked by Theo; they parried Theo’s next hit, then slashed Theo’s other shoulder.

“Rude - this is a new suit!” Theo hissed as white hot pain rushed through her arm. She lunged forward and continued to attack her opponent, landing one hit before spinning behind them and slicing into their other arm. 

The figure staggered back, only pausing for a moment before they charged back into the fight.

This time, Theo blocked both the distraction strike and the actual hit.

Her opponent hadn’t even finished their swing before Theo sent another pair of stars at the figure, both of which sliced the figures’ legs.

With her foe distracted by trying to catch their balance, Theo shot an arm out and snatched their arm. She clenched her jaw as a series of runes slithered off of her hand, weaving together into an intricate pattern of black and white that surrounded her opponent. 

“This has been a delightful little game,” Theo drawled, “but I have better shit to do than stroke your fragile ego.”

Theo tightened her grip. Beneath her touch, the figure’s arm shriveled; if it weren’t for the being’s sleeve, Theo would have felt the flesh turn necrotic beneath her touch, watching in the dim light as it turned black and rotted away, while the wound on Theo’s arm stitched itself back shut. 

The energy stolen from Theo’s opponent would not be enough to heal her by any means, but enough to ensure she could make the most of the situation. The logical part of Theo’s mind insisted that she ought to just kill this person outright, but the comment about Theo’s identity unleashed a special kind of monster within, and she wanted answers. 

“You’re debating whether to kill me--” The figure taunted, wrenching itself free from Theo’s grasp before launching into a series of swings and parries. Each fighter took as many hits as they blocked. “You want to know who I am though, so it’s stopping you.” 

“Aren’t you clever,” Theo wryly observed, flipping back over the last swing as she cast a magical restraint around the person’s feet. As she landed, she dropped into a crouch and swept her leg around, knocking them off balance. 

Before her opponent could hit the ground, they teleported. 

“The shadow creatures were the warm-up act, but you were the real show - at least, that’s what you’d like to think–” Theo whipped around just in time to catch a glimpse of the figure swinging down, striking her collarbone. 

Theo barely hit the ground before a foot came crashing into her side, knocking the air out of her. “I doubt you’ll live long enough to see the grand finale.”

From where she laid on the ground, an unsettling heat radiated through her body. Though unpleasant, Theo recognized the sensation - an enchanted blow, a move Theo used quite often. If she moved before breaking the spell, she’d be in a world of hurt. 

With a flick of her wrist, Theo silently removed the enchantment. The moment the heat dissipated, she staggered to her feet, rolling her shoulders as she faced her opponent. 

“A grand finale?” Theo inquired, tilting her neck side to side as she stretched the muscles. “Do tell…”

The figure simply curled their finger at her, an invitation to attack. 

Barreling forward, Theo landed a slice into their side as they managed to land a punch on her face. 

Both parties stumbled backwards, panting heavily as they glared at each other. A metallic, tangy taste flooded Theo’s mouth. 

“Who are you?” Theo pressed another time, this time far sharper than before.

“Apparently more of a threat than you thought,” they sneered, smirking despite the blood dripping from their body and their haggard posture.

“I’m done playing,” Theo warned. She turned her head to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood, then brought her attention back to the figure and stepped closer. “This can go one of two ways - you tell me who you are and who sent you, and I’ll make your death short and painless. Or, you say nothing, and I will make you endure pain like you’ve never felt, drawn out until your dying breath.”

“I would die a martyr,” they replied, mimicking Theo’s motions; despite their words, the faintest trace of fear lurked in their eyes.

Theo dispelled her blade. With a sharp breath, Theo cupped her hands, the runes on her arms transforming into miniature constellations that she cradled in each hand. “If that’s your decision, I’m going to ensure your life is put to far better use than whatever you think you’re dying for.”

Two clusters of tendrils shot out from Theo’s hands. The first launched wrapped around the figure, overpowering her opponent and pulling them close, while the second dispersed itself into the environment around her, creating a protective barrier. 

“Here’s the thing--” Venom dripped from Theo’s words as the figure struggled to free itself from her grip. “Your buddies have been killing innocent people, and not only did you ruin my date, you’re interrupting my time to heal people that were caught in the crossfire.” 

The enemy fought harder, howling with pain as they were crushed by the tendrils; Theo simply tightened the tendrils around them. A devilish smile curled over Theo’s lips as she felt the life drain from her enemy. 

“I warned you that fighting me was foolish, and you ignored me,” Theo hissed, pulling the figure close enough to spit a second mouthful of blood at them. “However, if you really know me, you know what I’m capable of - and charging in here, pissing me off, and hurting people I care about - that was perhaps one of the most idiotic things you could possibly do. I can, and will, make you suffer. And whoever sent you, I will find them, and I will make them pay.”

The shrieks grew louder as more life drained from the figure. As they writhed in the air, Theo directed the stars she previously conjured to swarm around her enemy, slicing into their limbs just deep enough to be violently uncomfortable without being lethal. 

Frankly, Theo wasn’t interested in damage - they would die soon enough. 

No, she wanted whoever this was to suffer. 

Wrapping the tendril of magic around the figure’s face, Theo muffled their screams. A sick sort of joy filled Theo as she watched her attacker lose the vigor they’d previously fought with, to the point where they could barely move. 

“I thank you for your cooperation.” With one final push, Theo drained the last of the life from the figure. 

Even after the figure’s eyes rolled back and they ceased moving, Theo waited a moment before dropping the spell.

The moment the tendrils recoiled into Theo’s hands, she felt the consequences of her recklessness. Her head throbbed in time with her pulse, while her stomach churned in the sort of way where she knew that if she even looked at food, she would be sick. 

Theo hunched over, bracing her hands on her knees and forcing herself to take in a deep breath. Realistically, her head probably hurt from being punched, but the voice of reason in Theo’s mind pointed out that the area where she had been punched wasn’t what hurt so damn bad. 

With a shaking hand, Theo reached up to activate her comms and check in with the others, only to find it had fallen out at some point. No matter - they’d come looking for her eventually.

While she waited, she figured it was worth learning a bit more about who exactly came after her. 

Theo cautiously approached the body of the mysterious figure.

The crumpled heap of a corpse laid face-down, cloak spread wide as if covering the carnage beneath. In a moment of thoughtlessness, Theo kicked the lump to try to roll it over, only to hiss at the pain from her foot against the surprisingly dense body. 

Regrouping her efforts, Theo carefully pressed the bottom of her foot against what felt like a shoulder, then pushed until it flopped onto its back. The hood of the cloak fell back. Spider-like black veins marred its sickly complexion, to the extent that Theo could have spotted every capillary. She combed over the rest of the corpse, not entirely expecting to find anything; yet, one look at their hands stopped Theo cold in her tracks.

Their hands contained a series of intricate tattoos of runes, rings, and lines. Theo didn’t recognize this pattern specifically, but there was enough overlap with the designs that she did know for her to have a pretty strong idea how they might be connected. 

A chill shot down her spine, invisible vise tightening around her chest as the throbbing in her head intensified..

…”Theo? Theo, are you here?!”

Multiple voices calling for Theo, paired with thundering feet against stone floors, pulled Theo back to the present.

“I’m in here!” Theo called over her shoulder, her voice cracking on the word ‘here. Theo shook her head and blinked a couple times to try and clear her head; she may have been new to the Avengers, but she knew they’d have questions when they finally arrived.

A buzzing sound filled the air; moments later, the lights flickered, staying on. Unfortunately, Theo barely had a moment to take in her attacker beneath the lights before the sound of footsteps and voices suddenly came to a halt. 

“..Holy shit.”

When Theo turned towards the voice, she found Tony, Steve, Natasha, Bucky, and Loki all staring at her, her wide-eyed and slack jawed as they took in the aftermath of the fight.

As Theo stared back, nothing but the sound of alarms and heavy breathing filled the room. Theo’s heart pounded in her ears, but she knew better than to think anyone else could hear that.

“Hey, quick question,” Tony finally broke the silence, attention flitting between Theo and the rest of the gallery. “What the fuck happened here?”

Feeling something warm dripping down her face, Theo reached up and wiped her nose; she  pulled her hand away to find a smudge of something dark came with it. She hadn’t been hit in the nose - another sign she had overexerted herself. 

“Someone tried to kill me, obviously.” Theo dryly answered, rolling her eyes. “Are you all okay?”

Natasha nodded dumbly, eyes wide as she took in sight of Theo.

“Why do you look like shit?” Bucky blurted out, narrowing his eyes at Theo. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Theo muttered, pinching her nose in an attempt to stop some of the bleeding. Every word may as well have been a pickaxe against her skull; it took every ounce of Theo’s composure not to let her misery show. When she received nothing more than arched brows, wide eyes, and silence from the rest of the team, Theo spoke up once more. “What, is there something on my face?” 

The question was meant to be sarcastic, knowing full-well that she had a bloody nose and a gash on her collarbone, among other things, but also break the awkward silence. 

“Yeah, blood.” Bucky shot back, mimicking Theo’s sarcasm. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Theo couldn’t help the smirk that came up from Bucky’s retort, though she winced as her head throbbed. Behind him, she caught sight of a familiar painting that had been slashed in the fighting…

There were many things Theo could tolerate, but destroying art was not one of them. 

“Well I’m going to fix that painting quickly before we go.” Theo briskly stepped past the others, blatantly ignoring the way they all stared at her as though she had a third head. 

Ignoring the stares was easier said than done, given how exposed she felt and the sinking feeling from seeing the hand tattoos, but stubborn pride meant she wasn’t about to let her guard down.

“You’re going to ignore what happened here?” Steve gestured to the room, openly flabbergasted by Theo’s statement.

Theo back, turned, scanning the surroundings. Amidst the knocked over podiums, streaks and splatters of deep red already started to turn brown all around the room; between the darkness and the focus on her opponent, Theo hadn’t even realized the mess she made. If she was entirely honest, she wasn’t even sure how much was hers and how much was the other person’s blood. 

Either way, she wasn’t keen to have the conversation that she suspected Steve wanted to have - this person clearly came after Theo. It’s not her fault things had to get bloody.

Waving one hand, a mist of white settled over the room, cleaning up the mess and sending a particularly vicious throb of pain through Theo’s head.

Theo turned back to Steve, pausing to give him the most sardonic expression she could manage as she replied: “Talking about this is a tomorrow problem. I have bigger priorities.” 

Steve didn’t say anything else, allowing Theo to pass by unchecked. 

Once Theo stood close enough to touch the painting in question, she held up one hand, a thin wisp of white emerging from her palm as she began to reconnect the canvas where it was sliced.

Loki cautiously sidled up to Theo, moving in a way that reminded Theo of how someone might approach an aggressive dog. In contrast, the way he studied Theo instead of the painting felt far too intentional for anyone’s good. 

“You need medical attention.” Loki made the comment with a brusque sort of detachment that Theo almost appreciated, were it not for the fact that he continued to dissect her beneath his gaze.

“I’m fine.” Theo huffed, refusing to look at Loki.

“Should I be concerned that you are more focused on repairing a painting than caring for yourself?” 

“I’ll be fine - nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Theo retorted, trying to ignore the pain coursing through her head. “The painting, however,  can’t repair itself.” 

From the corner of Theo’s eye, Loki scowled; he shifted his weight between both legs as he ran one hand through his hair. “You couldn’t do both?”

“No.” Theo simply answered, not even looking away from the painting. She wasn’t about to get into the fact she already overexerted herself and was still overexerting herself to fix a painting - that would certainly piss him off.

“Given your response to Rogers, I’m assuming you’d rather not discuss what led to your current state?” 

“Wow, you are just full of astute observations.” Theo shot a withering glare his way before returning her focus to the painting. 

The longer he distracted her, the longer it would take to finish fixing the art, and the longer it would take before she could go home and try to forget about what happened, so she needed Loki to at least shut up for a minute. 

Loki was no fool - though he stayed firmly by her side, he didn’t say another word until Theo finished repairing the painting.

“The painting - it reminds me of the art in your quarters…” Unlike his previous statement, this time Loki took a much softer tone, observational and almost amiable.

Something soft twisted in Theo’s chest.

“It's Van Gogh…” Theo looked up at the painting - Portrait of Joseph Roulin - and smiled.  “Nice to see one in the flesh.” 

“You mentioned him previously–” Loki commented, glancing at Theo with an arched brow. “– A favorite, if I remember correctly.”

Theo couldn’t completely bite back the smile that came from realizing Loki made a point to remember her favorite artist. “Yeah, he’s my favorite.”

“What draws you to his work?” 

“He’s one of the defining artists of post-impressionism. He reimagined the way we see and use color; how we look at light and dark.” Theo moved closer, examining the spot she repaired. “Using blues and pinks in a beard to convey highlights and depth like this? Not a thing before. And yet, it still conveys the image without disrupting the brain’s ability to process what it is.” 

Loki hummed, narrowing his eyes as he inspected the area of the painting Theo had pointed to while mulling over the answer.

“I wish we had more time to actually look at the art tonight...” Theo stepped back from the painting, letting out a sigh as she glanced over her shoulder at the others. “Then again, I wish the night hadn’t been completely derailed by fucking shadow creatures. But that’s just how it goes when you’re an Avenger, I guess.”

“Maybe one of these days we’ll have to return, simply for our own enjoyment.” Loki mused, offering a hesitant smile to the sorceress. 

“Sounds fun.” She nodded, giving him a tired smile in return. As much as she liked the idea of a trip to the museum, she knew she needed to check in on the emergency response and make sure anyone who was injured received proper medical attention. That wasn’t even considering how she should probably find Chris and make sure he was alright. But at the end of the day, all she really wanted to do was go home, shower, take some aleve, sleep, and try to forget what she just saw. 

Or, if nothing else, brace herself for what was to come.

How could you let them turn you into a monster? Your bridge started to burn when you ran all across it I guess you never learn 'til you live and you lost it Live and you lost it How could you let them turn you into a monster? Your bridge started to burn when you ran all across it I guess you never learn 'til you live and you lost it Live and you lost it

[sexycontainmentprocedures]

Meesa been a dipshit, Perry the Platypus!

(I was gonna just edit my sidebar for this information but there’s some sort of HTML error with hyperlinks that I can’t seem to fix because I don’t remember how to Tumblr, so here’s a post instead)

I am just back real quick to clear a few things up. One thing I’m not clearing up is my reputation, which is very deservedly not so great 

Here’s the deal. This blog is a museum of cringe and rather than deleting it, I'm going to leave it here as an example of what not to do/how not to act/etc. A lot of times I was really positive, and it was genuine! That’s fine. But... A lot of times I was really negative, and it was also genuine. That’s not fine. Negativity is always a two-way street, no matter who ‘starts it’. Point is, it’s really important to control how much of yourself and your views you show to a group of people or a community, and I failed to do that. It’s really important to separate how people see you from who you are, and I also failed to do that. It’s really important to be able to comprehend criticism of behavior just as well as you can comprehend criticism of media, and I failed to do that. It’s really important to remember that negativity rots your brain and your soul no matter what’s ‘right or wrong’ about whatever situation is negative, and I failed to remember that! 

(’keep reading’ link on account of a sensitive topic mentioned, see tags for warnings) 

So, I spent all of these years refusing to tell anyone in the community that I’m a CSA and sexual assault survivor and that this is what the sexual shit was about. (There are a lot of reasons, but I think the main one was that I didn’t want to deal with the excessive sympathy from some people contrasted with excessive hatred from other people. I just wanted to be a run-of-the-mill NSFW writer, not someone capital-W-capital-C Writing to Cope... which is the truth.) Well, ‘about’ meaning I started down that path to cope and it grew from there. Obviously I was not writing jokey NSFW tales for coping, those came later after I’d successfully gotten a handle on how to feel ‘normal’ (meaning comfortable, I guess) about sex. 

I sometimes wonder if I should have been open with people about this from the start, but I’ve also heard the opinion that survivors don’t ever owe anyone that detail (the victim status) -- and while I’ve long felt ‘on the fence’ between those two options -- especially after I had other victims get mad at me over the fact that I hide it -- I’m leaning more toward the latter opinion now. IMO it doesn’t need to be anyone’s business if someone has been raped, regardless of what media the person creates. This is just my opinion of course. 

Back in September I briefly revealed my victim status but received immediate hateful backlash for it and deleted the posts. In hindsight I don’t think this was a true reflection of how people see survivors in cases like mine, even on Tumblr; rather, it was a fluke chunk of people who were probably the same person, or fewer than they seemed. I still believe that the majority of people are understanding toward survivors, even those who ‘don’t fit the social narrative’ or however people want to phrase it. If anyone wants to, for the sake of... anything I guess, the edited/redacted posts are still in the September text post archive; only the direct disclosure ones were deleted. 

I’ve decided to permanently come clean about my victim status because I am tired of feeling like I am lying by omission, and the majority of my bridges are either burned or nonfunctioning now anyway. So there’s that fact, maybe it will make my tonally and topically awkward presence in this community make more sense, if not then aight 

Back on track: Overall, make sure you don't give energy back at -- or otherwise contribute to -- drama in Internet communities, because it can mess up one’s life big time. I learned the hard way, so please don't learn it yourself the hard way; instead use people like me as an example and avoid making these mistakes. All of my worst mistakes are right here on this blog and public, and I did it to myself by both taking others’ bait for negativity and contributing my own original negativity; what’s in common between those types is that I could have stopped both of the patterns by doing nothing. I hope something constructive can come for somebody else from my leaving this blog as-is; look through it, see how I overshared about my life and feelings, see how I’d fluctuate between ‘totally fine for months’ and ‘snaps all of a sudden’, see how I gave the SCP community too much of myself and thus became someone who takes everything too personally for his own good... and keep in mind how that all came across despite the fact that I had good intentions. Intentions don’t mean shit, sadly, if behavior doesn’t reflect it. Making enemies easily is a curse, but it’s a curse the affected person can remove if they make the effort. I should’ve made the effort. 

If anybody wants to chat or wants additional context or whatevs, my Discord is Cyantreuse#6266. (Obligatory warning that I don’t always reply quickly because I’m running errands/working.) 

I won’t rule out using this blog again one day, but at this time I don’t want to have a platform readily available where I can spew whatever I want at a couple thousand people at any given time, because that’s the circumstance I put myself in for years and it made me act a dipshit on too many occasions. While I think I’ve learned how I fucked up, I don’t yet trust myself enough to have the resource available beyond making this one post about the relevant issues at hand. Right now I use Reddit; I am fond of it because the comment voting thing is an ever-present reminder that there are repercussions for what people say -- conversation format is important, and I do sometimes wonder how I’d have turned out if I’d learned how to Internet in threaded conversations instead of in reblog chains.

Please do reach out on Discord if you wish, though know I’m only giving that because I am about to log right back out after I hit post and not look at my blog again for however long it takes me to feel like a stable person -- just don’t want to permanently ghost everybody either.

[whitewolfbumble]

The Fallout - Part Eighteen (Bucky x Reader)

Summary: You had been a ghost for years, taking down the bad guys from the shadows that had once enslaved you. That is until the Avengers finally caught up with you and yet again your life changed. But your past won’t stay dead and everything starts to shift when a familiar face joins the ranks: Bucky Barnes. He may not remember you, but you certainly remember him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: Slow burn, language, death, gore, mutilation/amputation, torture (SO SORRY. listen, this makes it sound so bad. I’m not saying it’s inaccurate though so just be warned)

Word Count: About 4k

A/N: Action and death are back here. Yet again, I make apologies for the pain in this chapter! We start right where the last part left off so brace yourself for that scene’s conclusion. Please let me know what you think with a reblog, like, or message! If you want to be tagged on this or my permanent list, let me know!

MY MASTERLIST // THE FALLOUT MASTERLIST // PART SEVENTEEN

“Enough, Soldat.” 

Finally, those words came and ended his fists beating mercilessly against your still body.

Immediately Bucky quieted, stepping back at the command.

You couldn’t see beyond a blurred darkness, could barely hear, couldn’t move your broken body an inch. You lay, bloodied and dying on the ground in front of the man you loved, his fists dripping with your blood.

You were always going to die in a fight, let’s be honest about that. You had never planned to ever stop fighting so naturally, your inclination was to believe that that was where it would all end for you. But you didn’t want it end this way, for his sake. 

If you died at his hand, from your perspective, it hardly would matter as you would simply be dead. 

But if you died at his hand he would remain behind, alive and tormenting himself, unable to forgive or forget. The Bucky that you fell in love with would die along with you in a much different way. As your body would decompose, his soul would rot too under the weight of it all.

Footsteps clanged against the metal coil floor, vibrations not enough to cause your dead-weighted body to move really. The only slight sway was the arm pinned under your body hanging loosely down through a gap into the void below.

“Y/N... We’ve done a lot of planning to get you here today.” Gerault started pleasantly, towering somewhere over you. “You always appreciated a well-constructed plan that revolved around uncompromising pain. I think that gives us cause to all take a minute and admire my work here, don’t you?”

You couldn’t speak, jaw bone cracked in more place than one. You still would have tried to talk but found your body wholly unable to form a single word.

Instead, you very, very slowly shifted all but your middle finger down on your hand laid out beside you, slowly flipping Gerault off. It was essentially the same sentiment as you would've said if you could.

“Soldat,” Gerault said singularly.

Quick as a flash Bucky’s foot landed on your hand, crushing your wrist over a metal coil. The intense crushing burn instantly roused you, moving to pull it away as your lungs let out a horrendous wheeze, unable to scream anymore. You heard your wrist crack and pop audibly, even above the ringing in your ears.

“N... No,” you tried to say, words not quite getting out.

You spat blood, screaming internally as he didn’t stop or let up the pressure. 

“Again,” said Gerault.

A brief reprieve was almost not even felt, brain moving too slow and pain too great, before his foot lifted and slammed down again. 

This time you felt nothing, the only sensation was a shaking that started from your spine and enveloped your whole body. You couldn't even feel if his foot lifted, like there was nothing at the end of your wrist at all.

“Alright, that's enough. Soldat,” Gerault commanded, you barely hearing him anymore, your body rolling and shaking internally. “Trigger her and pump her full of this to get her moving. We have plan to be followed here.”

At the word “trigger” a memory lethargically resurfaced, of Bucky in your early Hydra days. He had been a handler of yours. He knew how to trigger you.

You shut out the pain of that thought. At the thought of him of all people bringing you back into the perversion that was Hydra’s control over you. 

You just tried to shut it all out.

Walking through the base was a much more leisurely affair this time around than the last. Your hunter was not following behind anymore, but he was now a partner, walking with you.

With The Winter Soldier- your once and now at least partial hander- at your side you weren't likely to do anything Gerault wouldn't approve of.

Blood dripped down from all over you like you were shedding what had made you soft. Ordinary. Weak.

Visions of you friends melted away. Of a kind of home. Of a love. 

Gone.

You strolled down the corridor, the Soldier marching beside you with his ever intense gait. A man on a mission he was. You could admire that.

When you approached a turn, you both stopped, hearing voices filter with an echo down the hall.

The Team was there. At least the three you came with. The others wouldn’t be that long out though. The pair of you still had time.

Your sharp eyes went to the Soldier’s. Together you nodded before stepping forward.

Walking into their view, you only took a few steps before stopping, hand on your hip.

“Bucky!” Steve said in shock, the blue-clad captain stunned with his two counterparts behind him.

Steve took a few steps forward before Bucky raised his gun up, stopping Steve in his tracks. Understanding and revulsion dawned on his face. 

Steve had seen Bucky like this before, on more than one occasion. He knew what to expect. But as he turned to you, you could see that he very much didn’t know what you were truly capable of. He should have looked far more afraid.

Your eyes watched him, so far dilated it was like they were completely black. Whatever the Soldier had given you on Gerault’s commanded was like pure adrenalin in your veins, blocking out any physical pain of your body completely. It was intoxicating, like you were fucking invincible.

You heard and saw and felt everything and nothing, the entire world spread open and closed to you at once.

“Y/N,” Steve said, choked, looking down your clearly broken and shredded body.

His eyes didn’t leave your right arm though, and behind him Natasha’s went wide. Sam only whispered an “Oh my god”, devastation plain on his face.

You held up your right arm, where naturally your hand should be. 

But it wasn’t there anymore.

It was gone, now down in that pit somewhere. Crushed off under the force of the Soldier’s boot.

Honestly, you didn’t feel a thing. Two hands or one, you could still cause more pain and win more fights than anyone else in the game.

It didn’t take a second to put on your most pathetic, quivering voice.

“Steve, how could you let this happen to me?!” you whimpered, tears gushing down your face on command. “How could you do this to me? You were my friend, my leader...”

He went white, almost gasping, and you couldn’t help but break at the sight of him, with a short little cackle ringing out. 

“Such a softie,” you murmured, face pulling back into neutral lines at the drop of a dime.

But on orders not to engage, you found this was getting boring fast. Time to get this done.

Fear and heartbreak was the name of the game, for both you and them. Plant it in them to complete the mission. Then the real torture of your newly altered life would begin again.

With your black eyes coupled with a bloody smile, you gave off an instantly disturbed feeling, and that didn’t escape your friends.

“You should be running,” you said low, smile growing.

Eight Months Later

The Winter Soldier stood- as he always did- arms crossed. Only when Gerault came in did he drop his arms, ready for orders.

Pathetic and submissive. You, on the other hand, didn’t leave your chair, leaning back leisurely. You tapped your metal finger down impatiently, your new metal hand now matching the Soldier’s arm.

Typical stealth assassin. No creativity, no will. The Beast that ran under your skin was not the same as his. And your mind turned around how you could make him bend under your will, what pain you could cause this stone statue of man.

Don’t you fucking touch him! you screamed, somewhere deep down in your mind, locked away and easy to ignore.

You had been here for some time and need something to occupy yourself.

It was a dark and gritty room, like most of where you spent your time. Your days were filled with experimentation, your body being slashed and stitched over and over, you brain fucked with a cocktail of drugs pumped through you to alter this or that about you. Then, out of your mind and torn apart, they sent out on missions to test the effectiveness of their meddling. 

Months this went on, each session worse than the last. Each episode breaking your down. Each experiment letting loose the maniac in you yet forcing you to submit to their commands. It caused a rift inside you, breaking you apart and burying the person you once were underneath the madness of it.

So yet again, you were back after the latest mission, needing to give a summary to Gerault himself, who refused to be too long without either of you, his real life trophies in all this. As per the routine of it all, you found yourself in this depressing and dank room, unremarkable and boring you not to tears but fury.

Finally you caught the sound of distant footsteps down the hall. Gerault soon walked in with a few other men in tow, veering slightly to the side where the Soldier was. 

Really, the man could say “beg” and you would be down on your knees groveling. Your “processing and conditioning” (also known as mental and physical torture and drug experimentation) over the months making your will bend to his.

But that was if he could say it faster than you could move to snap his neck. 

Hence the needed protection of the Soldier.

At his entry, they had left the door wide open and naturally your eyes flitted to it than back to Gerault, who watched you, waiting for you to make a move.

Run! Get out! Please, just end this!

You almost externally scoffed, looking down to your hand with a slight smile to hide it. Your old self remained, a voice in your head, screaming and wailing and generally being a fucking nuisance.

Run, damn it!...

But you stayed, looking to Gerault with a pleasant expression. He wasn’t stupid and neither were you. Whatever they were doing to you now was not like before when you were under their power previously. The last heads of Hydra had been much more careful. Gerault was pompous, thinking he could take you further, could push you farther. 

And happily, you would go where he led you. Because somewhere he would make a mistake. And you would strike. 

His freewheeling attitude about you being up and around under (somewhat) of your own will (even with the Soldier) was a dangerous game and he liked to play it, believing he had thought of everything. In those years while you were a free agent with the Avengers he schemed and planned and prepared for this. 

Well, he wasn’t going to win this so easily.

Every round of torture they committed on you made you certain of that.

So no, you didn’t run. He would be expecting that. You needed something he wasn’t expecting. Something that would hurt.

“Soldat, mission report,” he said. His eyes were on you though.

You could practically see him trying to hide the thrill in his eyes and the fear of you there. It had been his life’s work to get you back into the fold and he had done it. Now he was going to try for something even greater.

He meandered a little, walking behind the Soldier who stood stock still.

“Mission completed.” the Soldier’s voice came, deep and dead sounding.

“Well, that’s not very descriptive. How did our Siren do? Anything out of line?”

“No.”

Gerault nodded, clearly trying to hide his pleasure. He thought he was winning. Thought he could win.

To his credit, you had been a good little girl for him, this being your eleventh mission now. Basic murder, evisceration, or a bit of psychological torture. Last nights was just another test to see how you would do.

It had been a family. Ex-Shield agents who met on the job, married, had a couple kids. They were celebrating their youngest 15th birthday when the Winter Soldier and Siren came to their door. The four of them never stood a hope in hell.

Like always you were drugged to the nines, still feeling high like you usually did now out on the field. It was that or in pain, being tortured and mutilated by Hydra for maximum results. They had fixed your mind, altering what they needed too to make you compliant to them alone. Though obviously still quite unlike the Soldier.

They shut down his emotions (externally anyway, you knew Bucky was down there somewhere screaming like the old Y/N was in you). They wanted stealth and unrelenting brute force, and they certainly got it with him. 

In you, you were full of emotion. It raged and burned and kept you spiraling out of control from one state to the next, drugs and triggers keeping you line mostly. They had shut off your inhibitions and revved up the need for destruction. He was calculating and cold; you were calculating and burning, constantly.

Hence the need to see how you would perform, if still under constant and direct supervision by someone they could count on.

The Soldier would watch, would sometimes command you to do what Hydra wanted. But usually he just stood back, watching your carnage, and judged. Never had his compliance come into question though and unlike the convictions of Gerault or Hydra, you knew that it should be.

You kept silent on the several times you noticed a tick from him. Just a glimmer of the man underneath shining through.

If Gerault asked you, you would no choice but to answer, truthfully. But he didn’t.

They might give you orders, but if you could slither around them? You would. They made you an agent of chaos and blood here. It would be a shame to keep things too orderly and clean, anyway. 

They forced you to let loose and yet kept you on a string. It was likely to be an explosive end result. And they loved him so dearly. You were going to exploit that.

The previous heads of Hydra kept you hurting, kept you broken. Gerault wanted to see the full hurricane force of you unleashed as much as he could. And that just gave you way too much power to be forever controlled.

So you sat, leaned back, waiting for the time when you could really do some damage.

“She always loved a messy fight,” Gerault said, flecks of hunger in his eyes.

You felt more than saw a flicker in the Soldier beside you, and at Gerault words you casually looked at the one called “the Asset”.

He had flinched. You had seen that before. Last night was the most recent. It seemed to be happening more.

You had grabbed his hand which was holding a knife, and plunged it into a wailing man as you had just about had enough of his mewling cries for mercy. At the touch of your skin to his- your hand holding his hand- the Soldier had flinched.

You studied him now, trying to feign a cool casualness about you, head tilted, body relaxed.

Your touch seemed to do it. But certain words as well. You felt a deep pull to find out more, sensing a way to make him suffer. You could always pick up what made people hurt the most and were instinctually drawn to take painful advantage of it.

You would find his and whatever it was, you would make him hurt. You wanted everyone to suffer, particularly Gerault. But you would settle for a little fun on the side for their Golden Boy.

Stop it!... Keep your fucking eyes off of him!...

My my, how venomous.

“The next mission is the mission. It’s The Avengers. All of them.”

Again, his eyes were on you. 

This was a way to torture you, no doubt. To go after your friends and teammates, to cause them harm or kill them or have them hurt you? That would be the nail in your coffin of sheer, unbridled pain and secure in Hydra’s mind your ability to comply. And he knew it. His plan to break you down and push you farther in action.

“You both have inside knowledge of all of them. And I think it’s about time to use that.” he then shrugged, looking at his nails trying to feign an air of disinterest, in his arrogance. “You’re ready, at any rate. And you’re worthy.”

At the word “worthy” your head snapped over to the Soldier as a visible movement shaked him, and for a moment his eyes turned from dead and limp to an awake shock of blue.

Worthy?

Then it clicked into place.

The words you had spoken. Just like Hydra could trigger him to the Winter Soldier, maybe your words- the ones you were trying to engrain into him- could trigger him back? Coupled with your touch, which even back in the 50′s had roused him, maybe you could actually do it this time. Wake him up.

And now Gerault wanted to take down the Avengers. All of them.

Fucking stop this!... Don’t! Please!... Just let me go!...

You simply nodded once to Gerault, slowly. You weren’t stupid enough to speak directly to him anymore, he who was likely to get a rise out of it and plunge you back into a tortured hell just to hear you scream.

Confidently he turned to the men with him.

“Get them both prepped for a fight.” he said, practically buzzing with delight. “Full measures taken, perhaps the three-day long session we were discussing. We can’t risk a slip-up.”

Gerault left the room with a smile and a confident walk, leaving the four now doomed men behind.

Your plan was already in place in your mind now though, and it didn’t have room for them.

They approached however slow, with hands on their gun to the pair of you. Really they didn’t stand a chance. Poor things.

Don’t do th-

As one man reached to put a hand on your shoulder- and no one touched you without severe consequences- you let out one toothy grin, eyes hungry with a smile dancing behind them.

He was in tactical gear, bulletproof vest and all, but you didn’t need a gun to reach through to his insides. 

Like a shot your metal hand whipped out and went into the little bit of exposed fabric just below his armpit. Like a shot of lightning you cut through the fabric and into his flesh by pure force. And you didn't stop until your fingers hit lung.

With a gargle, he began to drop like a rock. 

Before his body even hit the ground you swung up and kicked another Hydra agent in the face, teeth and blood knocked right out and hitting like pellets against the far wall. You pounced to snap his neck, grabbing his weapon and shot the other two, silencer ringing out quietly.

You didn't have a chance to breathe before the Soldier was on you, forcing you down on the ground. His metal hand grabbing your own that held the gun, shrieking as he tried to restrain you. His flesh elbow pinned down yours, body trying to crush you under his weight. But he wouldn’t be winning this today.

Fucking hurt him and I’ll kill you!... Don’t touch him!... Oh god, just stop...

Such a broken record.

You didn’t have to hurt him, you just needed him still for a second. So than yeah actually, you kinda had to hurt him.

Swinging a knee up you jabbed him in the ribcage, knocking him to the side slightly, enough for your other knee to go up to his groin repeatedly and push him off more. There was split second where his elbow on your arm loosen, and you swung your forehead into his face as hard as you could. A brutal sounding smack rang out and as he leaned back at that force, his blood spilling down on you like a delicate spring mist.

With enough leverage and room to move, you forced your arm out from under him, grabbing the gun from your metal hand. 

God, no!... Stop, don’t!....

A shot rang out and the Soldier flew back off you, raining more blood. God, that felt so good. When someone hurt, you were rewarded. It was just intoxicating to hurt people now.

You threw the gun away and grabbed the fabric of his leather tactical coat, hoisting him up onto a chair. He was dazed but cognizant, your shot hitting an area of muscle below the shoulder but above the heart. Right on target.

Time was crucial here, you only had minutes. You were determined to get this done and finally start having some satiating fun.

You smiled down to the man then straddled him, hips grinding into his lap. You grabbed his face in your hands, bringing it close to yours.

Get the fuck off of him you fucking-

“If touch won’t fully do it, maybe a combination will?” you muttered, wriggly closer to him, as close as you could.

Even though you were different now, your times with the Avengers were there in your memories. Including you time with Bucky, with those warm delicately intimate nights together. You felt a pull of familiarity there, so close to him now, bodies pressing together.

You looked to him, drawing his face almost to your lips. A hand held his jaw while another went through his hair, holding him to you.

“Bucky,” you whispered.

Face falling back not into one of a wicked smile and crazed eyes, you watched him. Your look was now soft, honest, unguarded to the loving, concerned feelings below.

“Bucky, darling,” you cooed, looking into his dazed but watching eyes. “Come back to me, my love.”

You brushed your nose down his cheek, before starting to press soft kisses into his cheek, eyelids, and corner of his mouth.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, sounding needy and desperate. “Don’t let them hurt me anymore, don’t let them take me away from you again.”

You pulled back every so slightly, mouth open and breath mingling with his, face pouting and eyes starting to brim with tears. You felt a flinch run through him, saw a stirring in his eyes.

Perfect.

No!...

“My love,” you whispered, lips hovering above his before kissing him once, slow and chaste. “You are worthy.”

This time he jerked but you didn’t stop.

You placed another, deeper and longer kiss on his lips before pulling back a little. “You are so loved, my darling.”

And you felt him move under you.

Another kiss, wet and deep, as you brought your arms around his head locking him into you, wanting as much physical contact with him as possible. Even as a brainless toy soldier he was delicious.

You brushed your fingers through his hair, looking deeply into him, urging him to come out.

“You are not what they made you, my love. You can break through this. Come back to me, darling.”

With his shudder under you, you pulled away, watching for the telltale signs of Bucky.

Immediately he clutched his shoulder where you shot him, blood still pool out of it, blue eyes pained and shocked. You immediately got off of him, watching for some concrete sign he was not the Soldier.

But his eyes said it all. They were Bucky’s. 

That was all the confirmation you needed.

Running to the grab the gun on the floor, you next bolted to the door and grabbed the outdated intercom, pulling the receiver up, voice sounding pained and frantic.

“It’s Bucky!” you screamed, sounding desperate. “The Winter Soldier he- he’s just gone! Bucky’s killed four men and he’s after me! Please! I need help! Someone! Oh, god!”

“...Siren? What the f-” was a static response.

But you made a choked noise before hanging up the receiver. Right on cue a flashing red light lit up the room, sirens wailing. Calmly while illuminated in red, you turned back to Bucky.

He was crumpled slightly, hunched over with a hand still on his shoulder, looking tormented and struggling under his new ability to control himself again.

You looked at him with a predatory gaze in your eyes and smile on your lips.

“They’ll be after you now, Soldier Boy. You should go. Though, I think I’ll stick around just a little longer.”

He stumbled to his feet, still dazed by the sudden awakening and pain of the last months catching up with his fully conscious body.

He stumbled to the door, almost brushing passed you as his hand and body fell against it, trying to push the thing open.

“See you soon, honey.” you said, low and sweet to him.

Walking back over to the chair, you casually took a seat, leaning back like you had been mere minutes ago. 

Shouts and voices were heard down the hall. He was running out of time. He could either leave now and maybe get out, or hesitate and be dragged back into this hell.

Bucky!... Bucky, don’t leave me, please!... Don’t go! Oh god, don’t leave me here!...

You waved, gun in hand, relishing in the way his face crumpled as, completely out of options, he left you behind.

PART NINETEEN

Please let me know what you thought of this one! A reblog would make my day, so would a like or message! If you would like to be tagged in this or on my permanent tag list, please drop me an ask!

Tag List: @seninjakitey @thetimidsarcasticcat @hawkspriing  @kanekibooty  @elizabeth-rose771 @bookluver01 @celinejfong @themosthappyfangirl @themermaidpirate @andreamichellejodeit @lovejessejay @onlyanothersocialcasualty @emaywhyayy @watchoutforfrostbite @uwu-sebastianstan  @sonarsyndor 

Permanent Tag List: @dontpanc @smodvocate @bungalowjamaica @buckybonky @methefandompanda @hangirl93 @captainrogerrsbeard