#you can tell exactly where i stopped caring about a format i am so sorry gang

[teojira]

[I look after you.] [POTA headcanons!]

Summary: Random acts of service I think each ape would do for you!

Characters: Caesar, Noa, Koba, Maurice Rocket, Blue eyes, Lake, Cornelius, and Dar.

Warnings: Caesar and Noa's are meant to be romantic. Dar and Cornelius are platonic as well. The others could be read as platonic or romantic, though!

A/N: These are all just random thoughts I've had today. Some will be shorter than others due to just how many characters I tried to include, so bare with me!

Caesar has a sixth sense as to when you're gonna get hurt, it's uncanny.

Humans are clumsy and more fragile than others, he knows as such because of his grandfather and Will, seeing them trip and fall over nothing, stub their toe and curse, it's almost as if they didn't have spatial awareness at times.

His reflexes are faster than his words.

So he knows when you're about to slam your forehead full force into a wooden beam, immediately throwing a hand up to soften the blow.

You instinctually let out an "Ow!" Before realizing you're okay, your mates warm hand against your skin. The Chimp raises an eye bridge up at you, looking towards you and then his hand.

"Oh."

Koba doesn't do anything nice for you without the expectation that you will do something for him in return.

One thing he will do is protect you against yourself, mainly out of pure pity.

Your center of gravity is different than his, and the woods are not meant for you, so get used to Koba yanking you back from a steep drop.

He isn't gentle about it, fist curled into your jacket and roughly dragging you backward, letting out a shrill against his knowledge.

You knock against his chest, his body immediately giving off its warmth to your own.

You're too scared to look up at Koba, knowing damn well he's gonna be glaring down at you, a comment ready to go.

Unfortunately for you, he does it regardless if you meet his gaze or not.

"Should have. Let you fall." He growls, hoping you can't somehow feet his heartbeat pumping out of his chest.

Noa enjoys caring for you, making your life easier by any means necessary, whether it be by learning how to make you tools that help you fish easier, cooking your meat for you, knowing that your anatomy is different, to teaching you to the best of his ability how to hunt more efficiently.

It's his love language, not that he'd be aware of it. It makes him feel like a good mate, and that boosts his ego.

He gets so mad if you try and wave him off, scoffing at the thought of you not needing him.

What do you mean you're fine on your own? Nuh uh.

Has pouted before and got huffy if you get off of your horse without him helping you down, turning his back to you childishly as he sighs as long as possible.

I hate him.

Maurice lets you cuddle into him for warmth. His fur is longer than the others, and he runs warm. He worries for you when the winters get rough. There's only so much they can do other than set a fire up and wrap you with animal hides.

Sometimes, it's not enough, and shivering yourself to sleep isn't fun.

Maurice considers you family, being the first first ape to truly take you in, he'd never turn you away from when you need him most.

Never needing permission, you quietly make your way to the Orangutan's nest, trying your best not to step on any leaves or branches.

Gingerly taking your time to settle next to Maurice, lowering your body down.

Taking a glance at Nova resting on his other side, you don't catch his eyes peering open, a hand coming up to sign slowly.

'Come.'

Lifting a long arm, he allows you to curl into his side, finally granting you a good night's rest.

Blue eyes always makes sure you're apart of the conversation, if he and Ash are goofing around, and you're standing off to the side, he's gonna immediately poke small fun at you to get your attention.

The second he has it, he's gesturing you over to their little circle at the camp fire, asking you what humans think of whatever subject they're talking about.

Baby Blue will shove his shoulder into Ash if he tries to make fun of you, knowing well that you may not take it as friendly banter just yet.

If you're gonna be with the colony, you'll need a protector, and who else is a better, more loyal one than Rocket.

No ape is being disrespectful towards you on his watch, you're important to Caesar and while that was in fact originally the reason he made it a point to keep an eye on you, he's come to love you himself.

An Ape comes up to you, asking something wildly inappropriate?

Rocket gets up in their face, making direct eye contact and puffing out his chest for them to back the fuck off, daring them to make a move, all while making sure you're well hidden behind himself.

Lake enjoys braiding your hair for you, the different texture offering a welcome challenge compared to her own.

She's so gentle and light handed, her fingers weaving the strands to the best of her ability, fingers much too large.

It's a bonding experience between the two of you, her downtime, after working with the little ones for hours previously.

The littlest ape prince is no stranger to clinging on to you at any point in time. Even as he grows older and gets to be too heavy to sit on your lap or climb up your back, he does it anyway. Wrapping his arms around your neck and hiding his face against your skin.

He does it when looking for comfort, but also for when he's being a little shit and his dad is searching for him to chastise.

Cornelius knows that when you're near, you're gonna spoil and baby him, and that's exactly what he wants, hiding behind you.

He is observant like his father, always in tune with your emotions and knows when you need to have company so you don't stew in your own head.

Drags you off to play with the other apes, not taking no for an answer even if you try to. He pulls those puppy dog eyes and it's damn near impossible to deny him.

Taking on a motherly role for you comes with ease, Dar slipping into it once Noa vouches for you.

She makes sure to take you under her wing, teaching you their ways of life in the a view point of an elder, not just Noas.

Please don't imagine that she'd make you your own shawl, matching her own, literally don't bc I teared up.

She'd be ecstatic to see you wear it around the colony, staring at you. She's so proud of you from how far you've come.

Dar will blatantly introduce you to others as her child, no matter what another ape says. Which wouldn't be much to begin with, became who is gonna argue with her? She won't hear a word of it, waving them off.

[seenoversundown]

Amongst The Stars: Chapter Six

Josh x Quinn (Nonbinary OC)

Warnings: Shitty Partner (are you shocked?), Craig is Stupid (and we don’t respect him), Mentions of Alcohol, Verbal fighting, Medieval Nicknames, Pining Friendly Care and Concern for your Friends, Almost being injured with a knife.

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: Josh has always loved love, and he's finally found it. Buuuut, he can't exactly tell anyone. Join him as he navigates the ins and outs of his sweet, secret romance.

Author's Note: This, THIS, is one of the chapters I have been most excited for you all to read. So strap in babies, the story is really getting started now. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. And, as always; our Quinn is a ray of sunlight and Craig is a stinky loser. Alsooooooo — Sorry for any weird formatting issues, I had to post this from my phone because the desktop site wouldn’t let me post 🤨🥲 (I’ll eventually reformat it once the site figures it out)

"But I wish there was somethin' you would do or say To try and make me change my mind and stay" Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right - Bob Dylan

I walk into the apartment and hear Craig banging pots and pans around in the kitchen. He’s mad again. He’s been in a constant state of anger since he found me talking to Josh in the craft store. The anger had been an issue for longer, but it has worsened since that day. He’s been picking random fights over the most minor things. Everything from him not having enough clean socks to my “slamming” the door while he’s trying to nap.

“Hey babe, I’m only here for a little bit. I’m going to stay with Willa tonight. She needs an extra set of hands for a new project,” I yell out, making my way to the bedroom to pack a bag.

I hear Craig stop banging around in the kitchen. I listen, bracing myself for a fight, as he stomps through the apartment behind me.

“Oh yeah? And why can’t she find a different friend to help?” Craig grits out through clenched teeth.

“She could. But she doesn’t want to, and that’s valid.”

“You are always so worried about everyone else but me. And I really don’t think that’s fair to our relationship.”

“What does that even mean?” I’m starting to get angry at this point. All I do, day in and day out, is ensure that our life together runs smoothly. I pick his groceries up. I let him use my car so he can do whatever he does while I’m working to pay our bills.

“I just think it’s interesting that you met that guy from the craft store, and now you hardly want to be in the same room as me.”

“You’re being an asshole because you’re… jealous?” I huff out a humorless chuckle.

“I mean, I guess? You seem to loooove talking to him while I’m stuck here begging to see you in your spare time.” He slams his hand against the door frame. I roll my eyes at his little outburst and continue shoving clothes into my overnight bag.

“Good job, Detective Craig, you caught me! I’m in love with Josh. Head over heels for a man I’ve only spoken with at his job!” I watch his eyes darken with rage as I add a sarcastic round of applause. I’m far too annoyed with him to stop myself from pushing his buttons even more. If he wants to fight, we can fucking fight.

“I uprooted my entire life back home for you, Quinn. I packed up everything I own, threw my entire life in the back of a moving truck, and moved here with you. I did that, and you’re laughing at me?”

“Of course I am laughing at you. You’re being absurd.”

“I’m being absurd?! I didn’t realize it was absurd to want to spend time with your partner.”

“It’s absurd that you’re mad at me over the manager of the store where I get art supplies. It’s absurd that you’re turning this all into a pity party for yourself. It’s absurd that I’ve wasted the last 20 minutes arguing with you when Willa needs my help.”

“It’s absurd that we’re arguing and you’re worried about your friends.”

“I didn’t start the argument, bud. I was content to pack my bag and head out, but you wanted to make it a thing.” I sling my packed bag over my shoulder and walk to the bedroom door as Craig steps in the way to block my path.

“Get out of my way, Craig.”

“If you step outside this house right now, I honestly don’t know where that will leave us.”

“I guess we’ll figure it out later, then.” I duck under his arm and make my way to the front door, grabbing my keys and storming out the door.

I hop in my car and text Willa, letting her know I am on my way. I spent the short drive contemplating the state of my relationship with Craig. Where does he get off acting like I am the problem here? I spend almost every waking moment doing things for him. I do his laundry; I cook his meals; I don’t even care that he doesn’t have a job. I let so much of his bullshit slide. But he treats me like I’m doing something wrong because I want to hang out with my friends. Because I talk to a guy who works at the craft store? When it gets down to it, our relationship isn’t working right now. But, then again, it hasn’t been working for a while. The Josh Thing is just the icing on top of the cake. He has always been jealous and suspicious of me leaning on people besides him. He still sometimes questions my closeness with Willa. He knows we have been best friends for years, way longer than I've known him, yet he is still suspicious.

I slam my car in park once I’m outside of Willa’s apartment complex. I take a few moments to collect myself. I know that it won’t matter, though. I am rarely sad or upset, but when I am, Willa can sniff it out like a bloodhound. She’s always had the unique ability to see directly through me, which is why we’re so close. I walk up to her front door and unlock it with the spare key she gave me the first day she moved in. When I open the door, I am immediately hit with the scent of Willa’s signature sage and citrus candle. I swear she has one burning 24/7, and, at this point, her emotional support candle is becoming mine. I immediately feel myself calm down as I breathe it in.

“Honey, I’m home!” I yell out, setting my bag down in the foyer.

“In the Kitchen!”

I step through the apartment, making my way to the kitchen. I stop in the living room to survey the Throw Pillow situation. Willa thrives in a comfortable space, so I swear there’s at least one new pillow every time I drop by. I stop at her gallery wall next. I let out a soft chuckle, remembering the time that she asked if she wanted me to alter any of the photos from before I came out. “I can photoshop your head or something, but I look good; I can’t just take them down”

This was always her excuse, but it’s because those photos were from easier times. They held a sense of nostalgia for both of us, and neither one of us wanted them taken down. They were photos from our time in college. They were from well before Craig blew into my life, causing issues between Willa and me. It does warm my heart knowing that I still hold so much space on her gallery wall, even after the small wedge he’s driven between us.

I finally walk into the kitchen and see her standing before her table. There is an explosion of flowers surrounding various crystals laid across the table. On the floor next to her, there’s a box of other witchy-looking supplies

“What are you working on tonight?”

“Freelance gig for that new occult shop, Garden’s Gate. They asked if I’d photograph products for their website.” She glances up and hands me a large, white piece of cardboard.

“I need your help nailing this lighting real quick. I’m trying to go for a more whimsigoth feel, but the lighting is too harsh without the bounce board.” I nod my head and pretend I understand what I’m doing. Photography was never my forte.

“And don’t think I’ll forget that look on your face. We will be discussing whatever Craig did once I have this shot.” She quirks an eyebrow at me, then directs me to hold the bounce board in front of her lighting rig. After Willa finishes the product shoot, she finally looks at me. I heave out a sigh, not ready to have this conversation and sit down at the kitchen table. She heads to the fridge and pulls out two hard ciders. Cracking them both open, she sits across from me at the table.

“So, spill.” She says softly.

“Craig and I might be done. I was so mean to him when I got home…” I trail off, hoping she won’t make me spill all the dirty details.

“Mhm…” She waves her hand, motioning for me to continue.

I suck in a deep breath and begin recounting the events of the evening. I try to avoid eye contact with Willa throughout my spiel. Instead, I focus on peeling the label off of my bottle. I avoid eye contact because I already know how she looks at me. Anger in her eyes, a bit of pity. I don’t need pity; I know the situation is messed up. When I finish, I finally look up and meet her eyes across the table.

“Quinn, you know you can’t let him treat you that way, right?” She questions softly, as if trying to lessen the blow of what I already know.

“I know, but I was horrible right back at him tonight.”

“You were horrible to him because he has been horrible to you, and you hit your breaking point. Anyone would do the same. Hell, I’ve acted way worse for way less reason,“she begins to laugh at herself, “Actually, on second thought, I’m not the greatest barometer for anger management.”

I bark out a laugh with her. She’s not wrong; she has one of the shortest and most explosive fuses I’ve ever seen on a person.

“That’s all besides the point. What you need to consider is, yeah, you were horrible to Craig. But, the way you spoke to him doesn’t reflect who you are as a person, and he brought that out in you.”

I’m quiet for a second as I mull everything over. Craig did give up so much for me, for us. But I don't think I can continue living like this. I don’t like the person I was with him tonight. I don’t like that he has the ability to bring that out in me. I don’t appreciate the jealousy that he harbors. That jealousy has led to so much distrust between us throughout the years.

“I have to break up with him,” I sigh, “This hasn’t been working, and I don’t see it getting better any time soon. Especially if he’s gonna throw Josh in my face.”

“I’m not agreeing with him, but you have been talking about Josh a lot. Got anything else you want to share?” Willa looks at me, eyes alight with mischief.

I groan, rubbing my hands down my face.

“Not you, too. Josh is an acquaintance. I’ve seen him once outside of the craft store, and it was by accident.”

“Whatever you say, babes!” She laughs before continuing, “But really, if you doooo break up with Craig… I’ve been thinking about getting a roommate.”

“It can be like college! No pesky boys stirring up trouble, just us hanging out.”

“I do like the sound of that, Quinny.”

I wake up early the following day, feelings weighing heavily on my chest. It’s a strange mixture of excitement and dread. The excitement makes me feel worse; I am about to ruin my long-term partner’s day. I should not feel giddy in any sense, and yet. I stretch my limbs as I stand up from the couch and begin my trek to the kitchen for something to drink.

“Good morning!” Willa startles me as I turn into the kitchen. She shoves a freshly poured cup of coffee into my hands.

“‘Morning, Wills,” I grunt as I take a sip from my mug. Of course, Willa made it just how I like it: 2 sugars and a bit of oat milk. I close my eyes and feel the caffeine coursing through my bloodstream, waking my brain.

“Are we making boys cry today?” Willa asks, with a bit too much glee for the hour.

“Please, try to sound at least a little bit upset about the disintegration of my relationship.”

“Are we making boys cry today?” She tries again, this time adding an exaggerated frown.

“I am making a boy cry today. You are welcome to tag along and sit in the car.”

She rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at me, “You’re no fun!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna get dressed, and you ought to do the same if you want to come.”

—————————————————

Willa and I pass the time on the drive over to my apartment by figuring out what I am going to tell Craig. We both know that this will not end happily. Craig will turn it into a situation just like he does everything else. This is why I ultimately decided to allow Willa to come up with me. There is strength in numbers, and Craig is less likely to cause a scene or do something entirely inappropriate if there is a witness. We trudge up the stairs to the second-floor apartment I share with Craig, and I turn to face Willa before unlocking the door.

Willa pulls me into a bear hug, “I know this seems complicated, but you're doing the right thing. I am so proud of you.”

I choke up a bit, then lean deeper into the hug. “Thank you.”

We stand like that for a moment, sharing each other's love and energy, before I turn back and unlock the door. It's quiet as we enter the house. I walk into the living room to find Craig passed out on the couch with his Xbox controller and several empty beer bottles strewn haphazardly around him. God, it's a good thing Willa decided to come in with me. He can be an absolute toad when he’s hungover. Though, I guess that shouldn't be shocking, considering he is a toad 75% of the time now.

“Hey, can you head to my room and start packing some of my stuff while I deal with this?” I ask in a hushed voice.

Even if Craig deserves to be woken up, I don't want Willa to face any of his ire.

“Sure thing, Quinny. Is there anything you want in particular?”

“Just clothes for a few days until I can secure a truck to move the rest of it, I guess.”

As she retreats further into the apartment, I walk over to the couch. I can't help the feelings of disgust that wash over me, seeing Craig in this state. Typically, I wouldn't care about this; everyone has a rough night every now and then. However, Craig’s lousy night was of his own making. He chose this, so he gets no sympathy from me— no sympathy as I turn the bright overhead lights on. Not an ounce of pity from me as I connect to our Bluetooth speaker and begin blasting some generic Top 40 pop at full volume. Absolutely no compassion as I bring the trash can from the kitchen into the living room and start forcefully throwing his spent bottles into it. Content with my somewhat dramatic display, I glance at Craig and see him stirring. He cracks one eyeball open and levels me with a glare.

“Can you shut that shit off?” he growls at me.

“Oh good! You’re up,” I innocently bat my eyes at him, “I think we need to have a conversation, dear.”

“What on earth could we have to talk about at —” he cuts himself off to check the time, “7:30 in the fucking morning?”

Before I can answer, a big thump followed by a pained howl sounds from our bedroom.

“What was that?” Craig narrows his eyes at me.

I shrug, unwilling to give up Willa’s spot so soon. The likelihood of Craig actually getting up to check in his current state is extremely low.

“What. Was. That?!” He grits out more forcefully, finally sitting up.

Before I have time to shrug again, Willa pops her head out of the bedroom and shoots me a smug wink. I brace myself, knowing that whatever she’s about to say is guaranteed to piss him off.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Greg… it's just little old me.”

I struggle to hold in a slight chuckle, watching as realization dawns on Craig’s face. He whips his head around to catch a glimpse of Willa’s shit-eating grin before she “disappears” back into the room. I know she’s standing just out of sight but still close enough to eavesdrop.

“What are you doing in my house, Willa?” he yells after her.

“I dunno pal, why don't you ask Quinny?” she sing-songs back at him, riling him up even more.

Craig lets out an exasperated sigh, “Quinn. You said we need to talk?”

I nod my head.

“K, so start talking.”

I close my eyes and suck in a deep, grounding breath.

“Willa is here because she is helping me pack some of my things up.” I raise my eyebrows at him, silently begging him to get the point.

“Uh… why are you doing that?”

“Because I’m moving out, Craig.” He meets my eyes with a look of confusion.

He truly never was the smartest, but I was hoping he’d be able to put two and two together. Unfortunately not.

“I’m breaking up with you,” I spit out quickly, “and I am moving in with Willa,” I add more pointedly.

I can see the wheels finally start turning in his head.

“You’re breaking up with me… for Willa?”

Willa lets out an unhinged cackle from the bedroom, and I hear her muffled voice say something that sounds a lot like “moron.” My patience is hanging on by a thread at this point, but I continue.

“No, Craig. I’m breaking up with you because you drive me insane. You constantly pick fights with me, you’re jealous, you turn me into someone I’m not.” I take a breath, proud of myself for working up the courage to be direct. “That fight we had last night was my final straw. You told me that if I went to Willa’s, you didn't know where that would leave us. Well, I do know where that leaves us. We’re done.”

“You don't get to make this choice for us.”

Willa pops back out of the room, “Yeah, they do, asshole!”

“Stay out of this,” Craig warns.

“Or what? We all know you'll keep yourself planted right where you're at. You’re not going to stop me from talking, you're not going to stop Quinn from ending this, and you're certainly not going to stop us from walking out the door once I’m done in here!”

In this moment, I am once again reminded of the sheer love and respect I have for Willa. She has been there for me, and she makes it a point to prove that she will continue to be there for me. It dawns on me that this is the type of care and respect I deserve in all of my relationships, and I won't accept anything less from now on.

“Hey,” I snap my fingers to get Craig’s attention, “we are having a conversation, not you and Willa.”

“B-but! She! She started it,” Craig sputters out.

“Doesn’t matter. The point is - did you see what just happened? Where Willa came to my defense? You don’t do that; you never have, and I’m over it! I deserve to be treated like a PARTNER, like a HUMAN. And instead, you treat me like some robot maid! You only care about your quality of life, and mine comes second. I’m tired of not being first in your mind because you have ALWAYS been first in mine.” My voice cracks. I don't want to cry, but I can feel it coming.

“You can’t leave me. How am I supposed to pay for the apartment on my own?”

Absolute blind rage courses through me, overtaking the tears that were threatening to fall, as I lunge for one of the throw pillows he must have knocked onto the floor in his drunken state last night. I clutch it tight to my chest for a second, begging my anger to subside.

“Did you hear me, Quinn? Or do you just not care?”

I finally snap. I rear my arm and full-force chuck the pillow at his head, watching his arms flail as he tries to catch it. He fails, and it hits its mark with a satisfying slap.

“No, CRAIG, I don't care,” I hold up a hand and begin counting his options off on my fingers,” Get a job… get a roommate… crawl back home to your mother. The choice is yours! Leave me out of it.”

Willa clears her throat and stands beside me, grabbing my hand.

“Ready to go?” She asks gently, sensing that I’m about to break. I nod my head, and she begins pulling me toward the front door. As we head out the door, I turn back to look at Craig, “I’ll reach out when I’m ready to pick up the rest of my stuff.”

—————————————————

Willa graciously carries my bag into the - our - apartment and sets it in the spare room. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest.

“Thank you, madam!” I say in my best Knight impression

“Of course, my liege,” she curtseys, “I’m just happy to have you here, Quinny.”

I pull her in for another quick hug to show my appreciation without having to vocalize it. My emotional battery is almost depleted after my conversation with Craig. When I pull back, I see the devious smirk on Willa’s face, and I know she’s going to bring up The Pillow Incident that she absolutely watched from the corner before getting me out of there.

“Can we talk about what a little badass you are? THE PILLOW? I didn't think you had it in you!” She lets out a little giggle.

“Honestly, not one of my finest moments. But it seemed to get the point through his thick skull.”

“Oh, don't sell yourself short. I think it was a wonderful moment. Fucker had it coming. He’s lucky it was from you, not me.”

I check the time, ignoring her dramatics.

“Do you want brunch? I’ll cook since I’m sure your guard dog duties wore you out.”

“Oh! A lovely idea. I’ll run out and grab stuff for mimosas?”

“Day drinking almost sounds better than brunch if I can be honest.” I chuckle and head into the kitchen as Willa makes her way out the door.

I pop in my headphones and start cooking. I let myself get lost in the monotony of cutting vegetables and cracking eggs.

As I’m chopping away, I find my thoughts wandering back to Josh. My little sunshine incarnate friend from the craft store. The one who listens when I speak. The one who cares and asks me about the projects I’m working on. The one who takes 3 seconds to ask me how my week has been. The poor guy who doesn’t even know he was the final straw in my relationship cracking apart. Not that it’s his fault that Craig doesn’t understand how friendships work. Part of me wishes I had some excuse to go see him. As helpful as Willa is, she’s been anti-Craig since before we even made our relationship official and can hardly go a moment without insulting him. Which is understandable, but that same part of me that wants to make an excuse to go to see him also knows that Josh would be able to soothe me in a way she can’t. That part of me knows that seeing his stupid little dimpled smile would cheer me up. The knife clatters out of my hand when I run that back in my head and realize what I’ve been thinking about.

Willa pops up behind me at the counter, “Careful, butterfingers. Don’t wanna have to drive you to the ER.”

“Jesus CHRIST, Willa,” I shriek, slapping my clean hand to my chest, “When did you get back?”

“Five or so minutes ago, you’ve just been in your own little world, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

I feel a blush creep to the tops of my cheeks. Had I really been that lost in thought about Josh?

“Well, now that you’ve nearly given me a heart attack, do you think you could make me a mimosa? Omelets will be up in about 15.”

“Anything for you, my dear!”

As I place my pan on the stove and begin heating it, I vow to stop thinking about Stock Boy for the rest of the day. After all, Willa is right. With the day I’ve already had, the last thing I need is a trip to the ER.

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[lia404]

I'll give you Yusaku for "Send me a Yugioh character" owo

AH. Ahaha. Oh my god, okay. So for context, your ask landed in my inbox exactly when I was struggling with formatting my "Yusaku birthday post." Which means it caught me at a point when I had even MORE feelings than I usually do for this boy. I apologise in advance: the answer about Kaiba may have been a wall of text, but I'm afraid this one will become a full skyscraper of text. So go grab some tea, coffee, biscuits, whatever makes you feel good for a break, then sit back and relax while I scream at you about how much I CARE for Yusaku Fujiki.

(Whatever happens remember that you asked for it.) (Thank you so much for this, too, even if I've spent a good part of my afternoon and all my evening and part of my night on it.) (By the way at this point I really won't feel insulted if no one reads it to the end, I think I mostly need to get it all out of my system.)

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD, in the form of headcanons and personal analyses of Yusaku's character and his relationships, along with multiple screenshots, gif, videos, all hidden behind the excuse of an ask meme (so it's still superficial in many parts, but I feel like it's a good overview.) I'm putting it all behind a cut since I know how to use them now. (Or do I? It's the 4th time I edit to put the cut back to the place it's meant to be at.)

Why I like him/why I don’t

I think it's Yusaku's resilience that I like the most. He can be no-nonsense and harsh, but he's always honest, and he always stands up. It's striking, actually, how he always manages to keep standing.

He's thrown to the ground by life, by his enemies (interestingly, many declare they are his enemies when he's not even TRYING to alienate them, and just doesn't really care.) Even his allies are the reason why he ends up beaten up sometimes. And yet, he always get back up. It's very rare to see him fully crash, which makes it even more impactful when he does.

I'm just fascinated at how even at his lowest, at the biggest blows he receives, he stands up. His strive for life is remarkable, so much so that it sometimes almost feels like a curse. Just the same way he keeps winning and winning, because he's good, of course, but also because losing is not an option. He has to stand up and he keeps doing it for himself, for others, and still manages to feel guilty for not doing enough.

(I'm afraid you'll have to do with my French subtitles, I am NOT trying to find other streams just to make screencaps, these ones were hard enough to find.)

"Sorry, Kusanagi, your brother Jin has been taken and Lightning is menacing humanity and all of this is because I'm not strong enough."

Yusaku, FFS.

This is all heavily linked to the other aspect of his character I love most: Yusaku is so human. He's filled with hope. In one of the episodes of season 3, Revolver tells him to "stop thinking with his naive optimism".

And Playmaker clearly doesn't like it, look at this face.

But he still holds onto it until the end. He's not giving up until he's forced to (and even when it's done, he takes off and tries to find solutions.)

And Yusaku cares, he cares so much. He may seem heinous and gratuitously savage with the way he shuns Shima or Ai, but you have to go beyond the words. When Shima is captured, he literally runs to his rescue, barely waiting for the van to stop before he jumps out of it to check on his classmate. Shima and other people around, no matter how annoying, will also give occasional encouragements (often hidden behind a layer of backhanded compliments, because that's how Yusaku rolls.)

Yusaku makes sure that people around him are feeling alright. He comforts them. He may not use the nicest words, he has the sensitivity of an elephant let loose in a fine china shop, but his words usually strike right where they should. He helps. He gives a lot of himself for this, apparently not caring what other people think of it.

Goddamnit, Yusaku. Why are you trying to make me cry.

And this, actually, paradoxically, might be the only thing I dislike for him. It's not even about HIM per se (he may not be perfect but I am able to admit I'm too biased to not have a hard time finding him any flaws.) It's the way he gives so much of himself for everyone leads not only to people relying on him a lot, they also tend to take him for granted. And it pisses me off. Yusaku doesn't really fight against it, which, understandable considering his character, his backstory, everything. But sometimes I wish he could stop being the hero of Link VRAINS, because he's spreading himself too thin, and he had to break at some point. Or multiple times.

What I like about his appearance

I am trying SO hard to stop myself from waxing all kinds of poetics on him, so for this once I'll go with the most obvious: his EYES.

(Yes this was all a shameless excuse to flood you with close-ups of Yusaku and Playmaker's beautiful, vibrant eyes.)

The colour is striking, of course, especially in contrast with his or Playmaker's hair. But also, for someone meant to be aloof and stoic, Yusaku's eyes are hella expressive. His eyebrows only emphasise it, and actually, this is another trait I really like: Playmaker's eyebrows are orange. Playmaker is a real red-head! It makes me irrationally happy. It's the little details, folks, and Yusaku definitely pays more attention to them than most would expect.

And the second aspect of his appearance I just can't omiss...

...Well, that's his smile, of course! If only he had reasons to smile more often. Look at him; no matter how terrible the situation, he manages to smile.

This one is from when he says goodbye to Kusanagi before the final duel agains Ai. It's honestly quite tragic, but here he is. Smiling. Why is no one in this series protecting this smile. What are they all DOING.

Anyway, I've been writing for way too long already and I still have TOO MUCH to say so that's it for the appearance. He's adorable, he's beautiful, he's gorgeous.

Do I prefer his dub names or original names?

You'd think the question is not relevant since his name is the same in both, BUT. There's actually a massive difference. I can't take the dub version's stressed Yu'SAku seriously when in Japanese it's very clearly 'YUUsaku. Also, watching parts of the dub has been very amusing once I accepted that it was a parody, but there's not much to keep. Not even the pronunciation of a name. So I'm going with original, no hesitation.

OTP

Okay, another obvious one. If you've been following me you have noticed the ridiculous amount of Datastormshipping I put in your feed.

Evil smile besties ftw.

And YET.

It's so hard to ship them seriously. There's so much to repair. I can't see them all lovey-dovey, they have to work for it, and work HARD. Because Playmaker is just... so completely defanged when he's in front of Revolver. And Revolver, while actually acting in the shadow to support Playmaker so many times in the course of 120 episodes, never spares him a kind word, a nice face, except when he thinks he's dying.

I suspect he's not doing it consciously, but the way Revolver behaves makes me feel like he takes Playmaker for granted. It makes sense, considering their backstory: Revolver has obsessed over Playmaker and endangered people he cared about because of it. He has also proved multiple times that he is very intent to shoulder the full blame for an incident he had not much to do about, so he'd rather keep Playmaker and his "stupid faith in him" at a distance. But Revolver is also Playmaker's saviour, which makes it so Playmaker trusts him and can follow him blindly no matter what.

Eloquent: everyone is wary to follow, but Playmaker is first in line, not a hint of hesitation in spite of having no idea of what lies behind the portal.

For this reason, I'm actually happy with the Revolver event in Duel Links, in spite of all its writing flaws.

In the event, Playmaker feels Revolver with his Link Sense even before he arrives, which shows that he's still VERY attuned to Revolver. And in spite of this clear bond, Playmaker really stands against Revolver and asserts his beliefs with no room for negociation, something he hasn't done since the Tower of Hanoi (...and even then, arguably, he was trying to negociate.) He is not yielding no matter how important Revolver might be for him. And, at the end of the event, Revolver seems to be relieved to have met such resistance. He even sounds sort of supportive? It's open to interpretation, but my feeling was that he actually approved of Playmaker's doing and encouraged him. The Ghost Gal and Spectre events that followed emphasised it for me. They're clearly not fighting anymore, but they also don't have this weird blind spot for each other anymore.

With this approach, I feel like they'd have better roots for a relationship that would not lean towards codependence or other unhealthy bases.

Don't get me wrong, I adore the fluff, and Datastormshipping really is the obvious end goal for me, but for this ship what I love most is them having to work for it. Because even if they clearly trust each other, Yusaku will have to learn to NOT give all of himself blindly, and Ryoken will need to learn to actively LISTEN to Yusaku, and even make him speak.

(As a quick parenthesis, because I'll get back to this topic later and I'd rather not leave any ambiguity: as much as I resent him for his treatment of Yusaku, I absolutely adore Revolver, in this terrible love/hate dynamic that makes me hate to love him and love to hate him. In spite of everything, or maybe DUE to all of this, I really like his character. I'm not sure I'll ever write deep meta about him, though, because he's already had a lot written about him and I doubt I have much more to bring to discussions that happened years ago. But who know what time will bring? Anyway, Datastormshipping FTW.)

NOTP

BEWARE: unpopular opinion ahead. I actually can't see Aiballshipping.

Again, don't get me wrong: I see where the shippers come from, and I really don't hate the ship! I've read multiple doujin and fanfictions, I enjoy the content, I enjoy the art, I love the analyses of the ship... But I can't see it, because for me, it goes beyond a romantic relationship. Ai is literally a part of Yusaku. Him and Yusaku are a package, in a way: if someone wants to be with Yusaku, they'll also have to be with Ai. If someone says Yusaku "It's Ai or me", they'd better not expect to be chosen. I understand Aiballshipping. I like reading takes on it, I like reading stories about it. But to me, what Ai and Yusaku have is not romantic. It's something obvious, a given, almost fusional. They don't kiss; they can communicate without saying a word. (Even if they spend their time throwing jabs at each other out loud.) Any other romantic relationship will come in addition to it, without being replaced by it. So I don't "ship" it. It's very much not an OTP. I have no idea which verb I could use for it, though, because I'm not really sure it can be considered queerplatonic either.

OT3

Di-sas-ter-ship-ping! It's actually my main ship, even if there's not a lot of content. Sure, if we want to make it work in a nice healthy way, it's going to be quite the challenge. BUT not everything has to be serious and reasonable or even believable (I have datastormshipping for this) and seriously, the dynamic between these three has so much potential for wholesomeness, stupid arguments and general chaos. It's called disastershipping for a reason. (Not only this, I know, but still.)

Look at them, their smug poses and their stupidly form-fitting costumes. What could go wrong, right? <3

Favourite card he uses

Contrary to my answer re: Kaiba's deck, this time I am familiar with Playmaker's deck, because I play it AND I actually watched his duels multiple times to understand how he uses it. The fact is that even if there's the usual "I magically draw the exact card I need and use if without even looking at it" effect that is characteristic to Yu-Gi-Oh animes, his deck is solid and it really allows different kind of combos to always find workaround. (Doesn't mean I don't brick often, but not everyone can be Playmaker.)

So I actually have TWO favourite cards. The first one is my little love, usually one of the first to join the field: Backup Secretary.

She's beauty, she's grace, she's always here to help me link summon my ace. She's easy to use. She may not be the best one, but I'm so happy to have her in my deck—three times. I have multiple other cards that allow me to bring her in my hand. She never stays long on the field, since her specialty is to help summoning various types of Code Talkers, but she's a life saver. And seriously her design is awesome.

And the second one is, in my amateur point of view (I need to write the disclaimer that while I'm not BAD at duelling, I'm not exactly GOOD either and I miss a lot, lot, lot of subtleties) one of the best cards in Playmaker's deck: Recoded Alive.

This card is a lifesaver. It has multiple effects for different situations. It helps me avoid having an empty field when my opponent's field is filled with monsters. It's a trap, and allows me to switch monsters when attacked if I use it during the opponent's turn. It allows me to bring another monster to the field and have another attacking monster if I play it during my own battle phase.

And even if we want to remain focused on Playmaker's storyline, it's one of the most important ones Yusaku plays in the anime. It's always here for him since the beginning, and it has allowed him to bring back so many monsters. I mean, it basically wins him a duel against Revolver. It saves him against Ai. It's just... I love this card. It took me forever to understand how it works, but now it's hard to imagine a Playmaker deck without it.

Favourite moment(s) he was in

And here I thought I had already written enough. Well, we're here for a few more hours. I hope your tea has not gone cold.

I dare hope that you KNEW you shouldn't expect me to choose only ONE moment. There are so many. I can't satisfy myself with only one, I must bring up a few more, but not too many because this post is overwhelming enough as it is.

1. Season 1, when Playmaker goes against Akira to recover files in SOL's massive datbase. I can't begin to express how angry I was with the way Akira treats Yusaku. I know it was done in good faith, but having Akira tell Yusaku "go have a normal life, go out with your friends, enjoy your life as a teenager and prepare for your future, it's important" is just horribly condescending. It's SO satisfying to see Playmaker put the Zaizen, who always seem to think they know what he feels, or what is best for him, in their place. There's something incredibly satisfying in having Yusaku say "It is MY story and it is MINE to tell".

"I don't want the story of my past to be told by someone else."

Having Playmaker defend his story like this, and not let others take it or misinterpret it (especially when they feel like they "understand"), is, to me, a very powerful moment. And as if this wasn't enough, Yusaku adds a power move to it, adding a step in his final turn that he didn't have to do to win the duel: returning the two Tindangle cards representing Akira and Aoi to the hand rather than winning by leaving them both in the graveyard. When confronted about it, he answers that he doesn't want the siblings to be in the darkness of the graveyard, that his revenge should not implicate them and that they should walk towards the light. It is incredibly heartful, AND an amazing way to show Zaizen that he will never manage to "understand" Yusaku considering the mindset he keeps displaying. That was so badass, seriously. I wish the Zaizen had learnt more from it.

2. Season 2, after the duel against Kusanagi. Playmaker won and collapsed, not waking up. The second moment I like most is there, in Yusaku's head. It's intimidating... and slightly tragic.

"I have done enough. I'm tired."

Oh. It's been building up for so many episodes, they've been straining him so much, and finally, it happens. The quietest mental breakdown, the hint of depression. It makes him so human, so relatable suddenly, and yet it's so painful. I love this moment because it really brought me back to who he is: a 16 year old kid with a trauma bigger than himself and the expectations of a whole city (world?) on his shoulders. I'm glad he gets up again, but I'm also really glad that we get to see this part of him, so tragically realistic. Now let's wrap him in a blanket and hug him, okay?

3. Season 3: The "last nice moments in the real world". I wish we had had more of those in the whole course of the series, there was SO MUCH potential for it! Look at them being teenagers. Yusaku, so happy, confident and carefree as he is working for Kusanagi (and this apron makes him look so cute.) Yusaku, being pestered by Shima who wants to know where Playmaker is (WHY would Yusaku know? Shima has weird leaps of logic.) And Aoi and Yusaku having the most AWKWARD handshake, that instantly relieved me from the fear that Aoi might be a love interest.

"This is what high schoolers do I guess. Okay, we tried, we're done, completely uninteresting, let's move on now. When's our next trauma-session already?"

That's three moments I love, but I can't resist adding a last Painful Bonus: another moment of "let's make Playmaker suffer". I'm so sorry, Yusaku.

4. Season 3: Roboppi's death; the flashback to a younger Yusaku who has just built his cleaning robot and is SO proud, so happy and welcoming, and then Playmaker, broken, begging Soulburner to strike one last time and finish Roboppi.

I feel like his eyes, at that moment, are another reminder of his age. It's one of the most terrible scenes of the whole anime (I'd say ex-aequo with Ai's final words), it's masterfully executed, the pacing is amazing, the work on the expressions is amazing, the voice acting is incredible. But really, these eyes.

Least favourite moment

Two moments come to mind, and both are in the third season. You'll see there's a recurring theme, and more importantly, the fact that I really don't like these moments barely comes from Yusaku's role in them. Even if his personality encourages it.

1. The scene at the pier. It's REALLY, REALLY not Yusaku's fault, but he's still one of the two major protagonists so it counts as a "least favourite moment." Yusaku is going for the final fight, and Ryoken catches him, sends him and almost kills him with the card that will help him win the duel against Ai. I know this scene is considered one of the cornerstones of Datastormshipping, but all I can see is... Yusaku getting rejected, again, after saying goodbye to Kusanagi with a brave and grateful smile on his face, and just before having to destroy someone that is essentially a part of him. He calls Ryoken's name, and Ryoken keeps the most distance possible. I think it may have been one of the worst things Ryoken could have done, and even the fact that the Borrel dragon is actually a symbol of how much Ryoken believes in Yusaku,.. well, it would still be not enough to recover from the blatant, cold rejection Yusaku received at that moment. Ryoken, I know you couldn't find it in you to encourage him, but you only had to say his first name. Acknowledge him more than by coldly stating his complete name. And maybe NOT use the word "farewell" this time, because twice in the few first minutes of an episode is way too much. GOD FORBID Yusaku has any sort of support from Ryoken, that would encourage him to feel like they have a bond, the horreur. (Ugh.) With Playmaker knowing that Takeru would leave, Aoi would have Miyu, Kusanagi would have his brother, having Ryoken just... coldly ignoring all tentative of closeness, and leaving without looking back, WELL. It's no wonder Yusaku disappeared solo at the end. From his perspective, he had no one left.

2. Mission begin: everyone is ready to try and stop Ai, the plan is set and Playmaker is not part of any team since he's not even here. Except...

"We can't begin without Playmaker."

It annoys me so much, because the thing is, yes, yes you really can begin without Playmaker. And you should, Heaven's sake!

Many characters at this point have told him that they would understand if he didn't want to take part in this fight, that they would shoulder some of his burden and that he could rest and stay away for his health and sanity.

The thing is, Yusaku is not this kind of person. He will take responsbility and let no one else do the job in his stead. And he comes back, in a rather flashy way, EXACTLY when they're all expecting him. And barely anyone is surprised, they all look so relieved. They were waiting for this.

This moment leaves such a bitter taste in my mouth, because here is the problem with Playmaker: he's so good and reliable that people just... lean on him and wait for him to do the hard work. No matter how traumatising. I took screenshots of the many, many times people said "I leave it into your hands, Playmaker". "I know you"ll complete the job well, Playmaker." "I'm counting on you, Playmaker." I am not putting all of them here, but I have an album of these.

In doing so, they only enable his rather destructive hero-complex.

Destructive because, consider: he had a huge trauma when he was a kid and never fully recovered. When he finally learns and fights the truth behind this trauma, he feels like his revenge is over, but the person he'd spent years and years looking for is gone after treating him quite awfully. Additionally, he releases his new "hostage/friend" and goes back to being alone. He's been a hero, and all he got was: being alone again. Come Takeru, and somehow he acquires a sort of social circle. He's not really good at it, but it exists, and he even looks quite comfortable with it, if a bit awkward. Then he's forced to watch, powerless, as all his newfound friends/trusted persons get erased one after another, all of them with parting words expressing how much they trusted him to fix this. Way to make him feel like it's great to have friends and allies, uh. Then the humans come back, but the Ignis are dead, and he feels like he has failed his self-imposed mission to find a way to coexist. Ai is gone, Ryoken sort of gloats (I understand it's probably not what he intended, but it still feels awfully like it.) He's been a hero, and all he got was: more trauma about losing people, more responsibilities he shouldn't have to shoulder, and likely no one who understands the pain he's in because the world is safe now.

And then Ai comes back and everything goes upside down, and Yusaku lives in denial all beginning of season 3.

That's what makes it a self-destructive complex, for me. Every time he plays hero, Yusaku exposes himself to the things that hurt him most. He's never rewarded. And yet, he keeps doing it, and giving people what they want from him/taking responsibility for things that should NEVER be considered his responsibility. It drives me crazy.

Note: I have a similar beef with the "epilogue", in which they all have something nice to say about Playmaker, and they're all so certain that he's amazing, that he'll be back... And yet. No one is looking. Not even Revolver, who should have it easy since he's working from the inside. Arguably, Kusanagi keeps the foodtruck parked in the same place so he has a home to go back to if he wishes

"He would be sad if he didn't have a place to come back to sometimes": I am convinced that Kusanagi is aware of how fragile the notion of "home" is for Yusaku.

So there's this at least. Arguably #2, I guess we could say they all know he doesn't want to communicate and they respect it. But the way they talk about him, it doesn't feel like its the case.

And this is why I keep saying that they don't deserve him; are they friends, or are they fans? Is any of them even really trying to do something for him, beyond "understanding his feelings" (Aoi, sigh), or rooting for him in the typical "Good old Playmaker, always knows what to do!" way (Takeru, sigh.)

Oh, Yusaku. The way they treat you upsets me so much. It's absolutely not what they're aiming for, but it's like they're encouraging you to develop new traumas instead of really helping you, and it makes me so angry.

So, yeah. I hate these moments, and these dynamics.

Would I fuck, marry or kill him

WHY IS THERE NO "ADOPT" OPTION. Well, the choice is quite easy by elimination. I would NOT kill him (in case you had not gathered already) I would very much NOT fuck him (I really doubt he'd be interested in it either, so that works well for both of us.) Soooo... marry, I guess? That would be hella awkward, but eh, if I can't adopt him, might as well use the option that would vaguely allow to, you know, protect and cherish. Even so, it's hard imagining Yusaku settling like this.

Aaaaand I'm done and off to bed, three hours later than planned. Honestly, kudos if you've read until here. Before I sign off, please receive the cutest gif of Yusaku to thank you for bearing with me for the past 2k+ words of crying over this incredible boy who deserves better.

You know, maybe my OTP is actually Yusaku/hotdog. They do deserve each other.

[kusagrasskusa]

Michael Myers X Murderer! Reader - Headcannons - "Death Card"

Also, thank you (Wattpad Person) for requesting this :) I know your the last request I got, so I prolly should have done someone else's request first, but your's was just easiest to find. (Also, I have it bad for Michael so )

Have fun reading this! I'm writing this on my laptop instead of computer so sorry if the formatting turns out worse than usual :/

Also...someone made fun of me for putting, "eight," and, "11," in the same sentence. I guess not many people know this, but anything under ten is supposed to be written out unless their fractions or decimals.

By the way, these basically aren't headcannons lol. It's just me wanting to write out a story but not being good enough to so I just write it down in simpler terms.

Enjoy~

Not only is Y/N just another famous murder who casually takes the lives of people, but she's amazing at hiding

..........until-

Y/N was an abusive home after her parents died when she was a toddler. Her aunt and uncle neglected her but karma came back at them when their car fell off a bridge, causing the pair to drown. The downside for the young Y/N was that she was put into a foster institution. And we all know by now that foster care are full of fights, drugs, weed, alcohol, and shitty employees.

As a young girl entering such a bad place, she was always a target. You know that sense of fear, worthlessness, and loneliness fucked with her head to where she felt lashing out felt great.

She would be unable to stop herself as she plunged a sharp object in and out of this prick that held her down for so long. But once she heard voices from other kids, she ran.

The story made headlines as the next big attack from yet another child. That's right, next. There was someone who inspired her to do what she did.

Of course, she always had that memory in the back of her head. That boy's violent actions filled her with immeasurable awe when she saw the news. However, she always had something more important to think about.

With so much dissatisfaction with her past, she could only fill herself up with adding things on to her in the present, and more in the future.

Y/N would steal Poker cards from people and always use the Ace of Spades to mark her kills by sliding the card into a wound. After all, betting games were the highlight of her day in the foster institution. She was always so good at it that it became her pride.

All these headlines and stories about how evil she is became such a big deal in her head. Such an overwhelming feeling of adrenaline every time she heard the name people would call her.

"The Death Card," is another name for Ace of Spades in most English countries. It was the perfect fit for Y/N.

(Ya'll, I feel like a fucking genius for coming up with that lol)

She was so good at hiding, truly. Kill someone in Kentucky, then move to Missouri. Killing someone there and move to Georgia, and so on.

Only in her hometown was she caught.

Michael was the one who started it all for her, as their same age and hometown made her feel connected to him, and finally where he got caught would be the same place she did.

14 years of hiding and killing led her to meeting him

Michael spent these 14 years sitting in complete silence. No talking, no humming, no singing, nothing. It's like he was always in his own world of thought, too busy in his imagination to interact with the real world.

Of course, there was times when he did pay attention to what's around him.

The news was the only thing he'd really pay close attention to. After all, what if something happens to Haddonfield while's he's stuck in there, and that causes plenty of people he once knew to move away?

But per usual, there was nothing about it

But there was something that caught his attention even by a little

"After 14 years, the notorious Death Card or Card of Death has finally been caught," says the Haddonfield Police Department. "While we're unsure of her motives thus far, we have been able to learn of who she is. Y/N L/N made the headlines once in 1980 at the age of eight as one of America's biggest crime cases with children as the culprit, having brutally stabbed a 15 year old boy. This happened just two years after the Michael Myers case, when a six year old boy stabbed his older sister in 1978. All else the HPD are saying is that her frantic behavior may lead her to a mental institution rather than letting her make legal decisions in court."

Michael paid attention to all the details of the report. For this report to be made about Haddonfield, chances are they'll be meeting each other soon.

The Death Card was a violent killer Michael heard of plenty of times however he never paid close attention to.

(Holy shit these are just headcannons so why am I writing long paragraphs)

He had to say, hearing about her violent stabbings were the highlight of his week. Even if he never felt strong about hearing other people having fun with their lives like she was, he couldn't help but almost feel pushed to do what she is. Living freely and ending those who cross his path...

Saying he was jealous or inspired would be a stretch though

He would spend his days painting paper mache masks while thinking of doing what she was for sure but he hated how she would show off by using those cards as if she didn't have a goal in mind, which was annoying to him. If you have nothing to live for, then kill yourself was his mindset.

Michael watched as Y/N stepped into court. He know hundreds- no thousands- of people watched as this woman of pure evil stepped into the courtroom. Her H/C hair flowed as she walked passed everyone, glaring at them with her cold E/C eyes.

A look of slight intrigue replaced his normal dull expression as he watched the girl stand up before the judge, smiling sassily at the cameras as to tell them to fuck off. Michael can recognize that look of intrusion on her face as she was practically interrogated. Clearly, she hated it there.

He watched contently as all the mystery surrounding the Card of Death was revealed to everyone in this world. Days went by of this court case before finally, she pled insanity. After all, she was known to have some underlying mental conditions as she remained so calm when talking about the varies of ways she would kill.

It's easy to see that many felt bad for the girl. Such trauma growing up led to the creation of this unfortunate human. But Michael? He didn't feel bad at all.

He never was sad or truly sympathetic however...he did feel pity. Somewhere in his soulless eyes held pity for this sad, sad girl he was soon to meet. Not exactly sympathy, but simply pity. And with that came respect.

The day that Y/N stepped foot into those doors was the day the two would meet for the very first times. Over 63 counts of first degree murder in 14 years led to the meeting of these two serial killers. At the time, they were both only 20.

Tables were scattered across the room with people talking or simply sitting alone by themselves on them. There was TV in a few different places around the room and board games in a couple of shelves. In the back of the large room was windows that showed the outside that felt so out of reach forever.

As the metal doors slammed behind her, she felt eyes on her immediately. Y/N slowly scanned the room as she gulped back the intense fear gathering in her stomach. Her lips parted open as she began to breath heavily and press her back on those metal doors.

She was so trapped and scared when she first entered that foster institution. She couldn't help but think of karma when her aunt would hurt her so badly for those five years before she died. But 63 murders are so much worse, so what could karma do to her to balance her evil deeds with punishment?

Laughter and giggled filled her ears as she shut her eyes tightly and covered her face with her arms. Her vision was going blurry; she was having a panic attack. Tears fell from her eyes as she whimpered quietly to herself.

She may be the Card of Death however she never had to be in a large group of people in so long.

Her body jerked as she was suddenly pulled away from those metal doors. She cried out when she saw a large man, around 6'7 (204cm), pull her away.

In just a few seconds, she was pulled to a metal table and forced to sit as the large man stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

Her body tensed unimaginably as they remained still for a few seconds, quiet aside from the occasional sobs of Y/N.

Then suddenly, the pressure on her shoulders disappeared. She heard nothing until the sound of creaking from the seat in front of her interrupted.

Y/N felt eyes on her. They were so intense over her.

A minute passed before her own eyes fluttered open, meeting the man's eyes in front of her.

A shiver ran down her spine when she came face to face with stone cold blue eyes that seemed to hold nothing within them. No light, no soul, and no sympathy. Not only that, but a orange mask made of paper mache covered the rest of his face as well.

The man tilted his head before lifting his hand onto the table, sliding something over to her. Y/N looked down at what he gave her.

"Don't speak. Write."

Michael had given her a paper with these words. His handwriting was hard to read considering he nearly never wrote anything so it took a moment before Y/N got the message. When she did, she looked back up at the man and nodded just a little so it was barely recognizable.

Obviously this conversation was to be secretive so she knew to barely show signs of interactions. The camera couldn't pick up on such a small nod to what evidence is there of them even interacting?

Michael slid the paper back to him and brought a pencil to the paper after erasing the original text. When he slid it back to her, it read, "Don't let anyone know what we say Y/N. They watch everything." When Y/N looked back up at him, she saw him dart his eyes from something behind her to something on the wall between them. She turned her head slightly to the side, noticing a camera on the wall. So she understood.

Michael had dropped on the pencil on the table, meaning it was her turn to reply. She erased the previous text before writing down, "Who are you? How do you know me?" When she slid it back, Michael took the pencil in his hand again.

"Michael Myers. I was a well known case two years before you. We heard a lot about you on TV."

"As in the boy who killed his sister at the age of six?"

"Yes. You know me?"

Y/N's eyes widened slightly as she frantically wrote down a reply. Without even noticing, the knot in her stomach had completely disappeared without a trace.

"I remember seeing your case. I thought about everyday."

Michael didn't reply immediately after reading. Instead, he waited a few minutes and stared down at the table. A look of confusion remained on Y/N's features as she impatiently waited. Then suddenly, Michael erased what was on the paper and simply drew a masked person looking somewhat like himself with a knife in his hand. He drew dead stick figures around it with blood splattering everywhere.

Michael knew that this picture would cover up all the eraser marks and writings that were still slightly visible. So when the guard that walked up behind Y/N without her knowing popped up, he didn't see any text.

Of course, this did lead to the paper being taken away. Then minutes after that, both of the pair was taken away.

If there's one thing as scary as analyzing The Shape and caring for him, it's that person who cares and analyzes him finding him interacting with someone else for the first time.

Whenever Y/N got sat down in her cell, she knew what was about to happen. She was sat down in her bed as a man she'd never seen before sat down in the chair that came with her little desk in her cell with a guard next to him.

Have you ever spoken to Michael? Are you related to him? How do you know him? How does he know you? Have you ever met his family? Why did he interact to you? Why was he drawing things for you? Does he like you? Does he hate you? Did he write to you? Did you hear him talk?

So many questions were asked by this Dr Loomis in such short amount of time. "No, no, I don't, no, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, no, no," and mostly these were your responses. No matter how many times Loomis asked, you dully replied.

You simply said he sat you down and you began to draw together, both filling in a piece of the drawing together.

And eventually, you got out.

Another day went by of "talking" to Michael.

And another.

And another.

The talks were nice and casual. What goes on in the asylum? What goes on in the outside? Who should I avoid? What's the reputation of the HPD?

Do you want to escape?

But it was only a matter of time before finally the two were friends.

Y/N was kinda just in her cell one night in bed. Then she just gasped and widened her eyes. Wait, are we friends? We're friends, right!

Michael already knew of their friendship like two weeks before she did. It felt so...wrong for him. He had always been alone and silent. How could someone like her even be so likeable to him? He didn't really understand it but he knew he hated it.

One day, the two were writing to each other per usual. Michael unintentionally added a pun in one of his comments, causing Y/N to giggle. Michael cocked his head to the side in confusion, strangely feeling heat rise his face and his heart speed up. It was air conditioned so he suspected he may have gotten sick.

Whenever the two had to go back to their cells, that feeling suddenly disappeared. Then it hit him. Oh fuck-

Hell, only a week later did Y/N feel herself experiencing the same symptoms. Michael notices that Y/N would shake and fidget a lot when they interacted, making him wonder of she was cold. As a friend, it was only right for him to sit next to her and hold her close to keep her warm, right? Y/N's face went red and damn that was embarrassing. But of course, that didn't mean Y/N wouldn't hug him back.

Eventually the two were basically cuddling. The two hugging each other warmly as Y/N rested her head on his chest, struggling to stay awake as they got more comfortable by the second.

But of course, Dr Loomis caught eye of that.

The doctor had been looking deep into al the interactions these two evil beings have had. They act so casual, so normal with each other, surely more than just drawing is happening between them, right?

The doctor had pulled them into his office separately to interrogate them. While Y/N bluntly answered his questions to make him just shut up as quickly as possible, she couldn't help but think to herself. She knows that she and Michael are mentally ill, but he should definitely be fixed by now. He's smart and creative and can casually talk to people, so it's like the only thing keeping him here is that the doctors are so ill-equipped that they can't make the necessary breakthrough to save him.

Of course, just a month later, another incident happened like this. Y/N was having a bad migraine so Michael got her to just sit down and wait for him during lunch. He brought over two trays of food for them and was sure to trade with Y/N so she can eat the things she likes and he could have the things she dislikes.

Another time, a bipolar guy ran into Michael and shoved him as if it was his fault. Michael shoved him back instinctively, causing a fight to disperse between the two. As security guards took notice, Y/N was quick to push Michael away softly and ball a fist to punch the fuck out of that guy- like a, "YO WHATCHU SAY ABOUT MY MAN?" type shit. Y/N did this to seem like she was hitting back and that Michael hadn't done anything wrong.

And when each other's birthday's rolled around, they had their own celebration. Y/N was given her own paper mache mask as a gift and a small cupcake from the cafe. Michael was given stolen art supplies that were taken from other guests and also a cupcake.

Y/N slowly stopped having panic attacks, but she definitely had her moments. Of course, Michael sat with her through it.

Dr Loomis recorded all this shit so he can gather data on Michael. Then the question hit him: How would Michael react if Y/N was gone for a few days? Does he truly care about her or is he just using her?

If you think Michael hated Loomis before, wait til he pieced together the disappearance of girlfriend and the extensive eyesight on him from security guards. For the hell he raised about it, he had to get sterilized and put into a cell without being able to get out for a few days.

Y/N remained bored in her cell for days. So what better could she do than annoy the guard watching her? She would just talk nonstop for what felt like hours and hours. The dude watching her was just getting more pissed off by the second.

"Would you shut up? Crazy bitch," he hissed, hitting the cell door. Y/N giggled cockily, shaking her head. Even if she deserved to be yelled at for continuing to talk, the Card of Death refused to back down. But when the guard went inside her cell and locked the door behind him, she got a bit worried.

Y/N got off her bed and threatened him cockily, to which he responded with physical force.

Of course, Smith's Groove is ill-equipped so even with proof of being hit and tazed, Y/N couldn't do anything to get the guard fired. But Michael?

A full month without seeing each other was like a slow suicide. But when they finally got to see each other again, the two was sure to write so much about their time alone as if they were teenage friends discussing their fun weekends. However, things turned dark whenever Y/N brought up the guard.

Michael didn't show any emotions at all, no matter what happens. But Y/N learned to guess how he's feeling depending on how long he takes to respond. Slowed blinking as if he was in thought, and slower reading as got analyze her writing closer were typically bad signs.

About a year had passed since they met at this time. A year to plan to escape. By now, the two were both 21 and fully prepared to leave once and for all.

Whenever that security guard had walked passed Michael's cell one night, Michael had knocked on the door to signal him. Michael slipped a paper through the doorslot, as he was given paper since he doesn't talk, saying he found a dead mouse in his cell. The guard just huffed and let himself inside. Michael pointed to where the mouse supposedly was; and that was a mistake for the guard.

Right as that guard went to look, Michael got behind and covered his mouth before stabbing him in the neck with a paint brush that's but carved into a small blade. Within moments, the guard dropped dead onto the floor.

Taking the keys from the guard, Michael was able to let out nearly every single prisoner to this hell out of their cells. Including Y/N.

The world sister was the only thing left of the pair as it was engraved into the door of Michael's cell. And just like that, the two were gone.

How they got there so fast doesn't matter but eventually Y/N and Michael found an abandoned house to station at until the search around the area disappeared and they could move around quicker.

"I can't fucking believe it," Y/N cheered as she felt tears run down her face from happiness. She swayed across the room, taking in the smell of dust and air. Even something dirty felt so new to her that couldn't help but love it at the moment.

Michael would watch her as he sat down in an old wooden chair, cocking his head. His body was in complete shock as the realization of all that's happened in the past years came crashing down on him. This was the real world? This is what dust smells like? This is what shattered glass and broken wood looks like? This is what trees look like up close? This is what things look like without glass tinting the color?

This is what it feels like to celebrate with someone you love? Michael reminded himself that the girl in front of him changed his life so much. His urge to harm all around him was always so strong, but the thought of her being hurt felt a bad taste in his mouth.

He stood up from the chair, walking towards the ecstatic girl as she cried happily to herself and picked up random things to remind herself of what they feel like and all she takes for granted. She turned her head to him, smiling, "Michael, look, I found a-"

Y/N gasped as Michael gripped his mask and slowly moved it. Y/N watched in awe as for the first time, she saw her only friend in this world's real face. That pale skin and soulless eyes that she grew familiar with became so new to her again.

"Michael..." she whispered, stepping closer to him. Her face heated up as she felt the weight his eyes staring down at her. She lightly bit her lip, a shiver going down her spine.

He took a few steps closer as well, making the two remain inches away from each other. Now at this point, Y/N is questioning if Michael is gonna kill her or is gonna kiss her as he awkwardly put his hand to her cheek, brushing her hair away. She leaned her head into his hand, keeping eye contact with him the whole time.

In just a matter of moments, the two came together in a soft kiss. The moment was quiet as the two did their best to remain calm and together as this moment that was little way's overdue continued.

When the two pulled away, Y/N was quick to wrap her arms around him. Now she wasn't going to cry about it, but damn was that contact she needed so badly. The Death Card and The Shape were basically Yin and Yang with how one is emotional and the other in emotionless but their need for pain and each other is what kept it healthy.

Just imagine how much suffering families went through since the two got out.

[junko-and-riri-domain]

push and pulls | ot7

↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader ↬ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff | requested | headcannon (paragraph form) ↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: anon ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴡᴀs: “cat and dog relationship with classmate!enhypen ? hehe headcannon or any format that you're comfy with :3  they could be highschool sweethearts in the end too 😭” ↬ ᴀ/ɴ:

i tried i'm sorry if this sucks 🤧

jake and jay’s are are like semi-suggestive (i think?) imma just say that they are semi-suggestive to be safe

i aint gonna lie i’m a sucker for Jay cooking 😪

jake & hoon’s are kinda short bc it’s like 1 am rn 

Heeseung

Heeseung has always been good at everything no matter what it is. It isn’t to discredit any of his effort whatsoever, but as the school year continues everyone knows that things are just natural for Heeseung. Ever since your freshman year of high school, you’ve seen him as your main competition for 1st place in school. The problem? This man isn’t even aware of it. To you, he just breathes and wins the competitions, gets all the attention, and is at the top of everything. To him, it’s the only way you’ll even notice him. The competitions? It gives him a chance to stay after school to be with you. The attention? He’s only focused on yours. Him at the top of everything? Well, that one’s just because he’s Lee Heeseung. It’s after school one day and the both of you have stayed to help clean up the classes for extra credit. Like a thief with a bagful of stolen glances, his eyes drift to you whenever you don’t notice. Except for this one time.

“Stop looking at me!” you say, your eyes glaring at him. He’s taken aback as he never meant to offend you.

“Sorry,” he said, thinking that you’d just leave it at that. But instead,

“I know you’re fricking judging me Lee Heeseung.”

“What?”

“I can feel it in your eyes. I’ll always be second to you and I get it, you don’t need to rub it in, so just stop!” You throw the rag at the window, walking out of the classroom and he’s left alone wondering what the hell just happened. And suddenly the gap between first place and second begins to grow. To him, staying after school to study for competitions are no longer fun when you won’t even tell him to be quiet when he starts to sing. Your attention is gone just like his sanity. Being at the top never felt so lonely when you weren’t next to him. To you, staying after school becomes something you dread because of the silence in the room that you caused. Your attention seems as if it’s on everything but him but every day you have a hundred thoughts and all of them are infected with him. The two of you enter yet another school competition, making it to the top 3. Yet, unlike previous times, neither of you is in first place.

“In first place, we have Sim Jaeyun!” the announcer says. You and Heeseung look at each other in shock that the other wasn’t on the podium. Yet, you couldn’t care less. Because not getting first place causes you to go off on a rant that Heeseung joins in on. Staying after school turns into study partners at the nearby cafe which becomes study dates. Both of your attention is openly on the other. And while you’re both at the top academically, you become the couple goals everyone wishes they could achieve.

“ace of my heart 💞” you caption an Instagram post of a picture of Heeseung.

rest of the boys under the cut!

Jay

Culinary class is peaceful for Jay. He has control of everything, knows where the ingredients and cooking tools are, can do something he loves, and did we mention control of everything? As a chef, he learned what you were like the first few weeks of class. You were messy with apple peels next to the lime squeezer, engaging in a way of cooking that you defined as “organized chaos.” You didn’t use measurements, cooked things by eye, and used whatever seasonings felt right. It wasn’t that you were bad at cooking, he actually enjoyed your dishes. But your process was just something he couldn’t stand. And maybe he doesn’t really like you since you accidentally used the last of his honey when making cupcakes but that’s a story for another day. The culinary teacher decided to try something new to promote teamwork and for a week, the class would be in partners and cooking a dish new to both people. And who did Jay just have to end up with? You. As the two of you read the recipe for your first dish which was a dessert of sorts,

“What do you wanna use first, jackfruit or durian?” he asked. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your lips,

“Durian, because it looks like you,” you said before making your way to the table where all the ingredients were.

“Inner peace,” he muttered to himself as he watched you walk off. The next day, you were making peach tarts.

“Yah, Jay, look here,” you said as you held up your phone and the peach. In the photo you took, the peach was next to Jay’s face, sort of comparing the two.

“Why’d you take a picture of me?” he asked. He didn’t really mind photos, knowing full well how good he looked but you taking one of him came completely out of the blue. As you glanced up from your phone after hitting post, you were unable to stop your laugh,

“Your hair looks like a peach,” you said with a wink as you went back to cutting the ingredients.

“Do I just, do I just look like food now?” he muttered to himself with a huff.

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind eating you,” you teased. You were smooth, he’d give you that. But, damn, he wanted to make you feel the way you were making him feel right now.

It didn’t take long for you to learn that Jay’s way of teasing made you flustered as hell. If you’d ask him to hand you something, he’d hold it above your head forcing you to have to jump up. It just so happened that he did this once right in front of someone else’s station and as you jumped, you almost knocked into them which led to his arm around you,

“Watch where you’re going,” he warned with a teasing edge as he handed you the carrots.

When you handed him something, he’d take it in a way that his hand held yours for a second but that second was enough. As the two of you cooked together, you entered your own world with no one else but the other in it. He was patient with your organized chaos, his own habits finding a place alongside your cooking routine. For the last day of working as partners, you two were to bake cookies. You put in a pinch of salt then some sugar when suddenly,

“YAH!” you hear from next to you. Met with Jay’s wide eyes as he looked in the bowl where you put the salt and sugar,

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I told you to taste the salt and sugar before you used it.”

“The first one tasted like salt so I put more of the second one.” He took a pinch of the sugar already in the mixing bowl then tasted it, a disgusted look appearing on his face”

“You put salt then more salt, good job y/n.”

“Huh?” He took another pinch then brought it up to your lips and as you tasted it,

“Why the hell is there two kinds of salt here!”

“One’s fine, the other’s coarse. I wanted to eat these y’know.”

“Fine, head over to my place after school and we can make cookies together.”

“That’s not funny. You can’t mess with cookies,” he muttered.

“Who said I was joking? We can even drizzle honey over it.”

Jake

Perfection doesn’t even begin to describe Sim Jaeyun. A gentleman, kind, smart, has an accent that you can’t help but sometimes tease him about, and obsessed with Layla were all things you couldn’t fault him for. But sometimes, just sometimes, he could be a little too nice. You couldn’t help but feel jealous at the sight of the girl chatting with Jake by the benches and her feeling his arm up.

“Geez, tell her to go away!” you wanted to say to him as you started walking towards them.

“Hey,” Jake said with a smile as his eyes landed on you. The same smile he smiled at her with.

“Are you ready to go?” you asked, trying not to sound pissed but couldn’t help yourself.

“Yeah hold up.” Jake looked at the girl, “Just text if you need help with anything else on the homework,” he said before walking off with you.

“Who was that?” you asked as the two of you made your way to the cafeteria.

“New girl, needs help with physics so she asked me for help.” Jake was supposed to help you with physics.

“You gonna help her on Tuesdays?” you asked, referring to the day Jake always helped you. If he did notice your jealousy, he didn’t say anything about it. Oh, but he did notice. And he kind of wanted to edge it on to see how far things would go.

“Should I? She can hangout with me and Layla.”

“See if she likes me better than Layla.”

“Might take you up on the offer, watch your words, y/n,” he said with a chuckle.

“Yeah? You introduce her to Layla and I’ll divorce you then take full custody.”

“I didn’t know we were married, don’t we gotta go out on a date first?”

“I don’t know, do we?”

“Let’s do it right now then.”

“Fine! Wait what-?”

Sunghoon

On the ice, you and Sunghoon went together like sugar and tea. Off the ice, you two were like the coarse salt that ruined the cookies in Jay’s fic. You and Sunghoon skated well together, putting on a performance that typically got you first place, but that’s exactly what it was. A performance. An act. Nothing more, nothing less. Neither of you talked when you saw each other after practice the next day at school. Neither of you actively told anyone that you knew each other more than most couples did. But there was just something about talking to Sunghoon outside of ice skating, acknowledging that there you had an ice skating persona as well as the persona you showed to everyone else, that frightened you. So both of you made an unspoken agreement that you’d keep your ice skater lives in the rink and outside of it. Except for right now where the transfer student who coincidentally just so happened to be an ice skater and was wondering if you’d be his partner for the upcoming showcase.

“Y/n already has a partner,” Sunghoon said, cutting in as he stood next to you. The transfer student’s eyes settled on Sunghoon,

“You’re Park Sunghoon, the guy who-”

“Almost made it into the Olympics? Yeah. And y/n and I are gonna do it together this year.” You weren’t quite sure how to feel about Sunghoon suddenly “claiming” you (not in a toxic way whatsoever, we don’t condone that here). But you did know that this meant Sunghoon knew of your existence outside of the rink.

“Says who?” you said, trying to see how this would go. He looked at you, fear flashing in his eyes at the thought of the two of you not doing this together.

“I thought, I thought we were? Are we not? We have our outfits planned and everything.”

“I mean… plans change, Hoon.” That nickname, the one only you were allowed to use for him.

“Do you not wanna do it together?”

“I’m just gonna… go,” the transfer student said.

“I do wanna do it together.”

“So then what’s the problem?”

“We kinda don’t have a relationship outside of the rink, Hoon.”

“We can make one, then. Right now.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

Sunoo

You’ve always held a level of jealousy towards Sunoo. Sunoo has always been the guy who’s everyone’s friend even if he’s popular, the type of guy who waves at everyone, greets them with a smile on their face, and gets people to attend class/school events. Whereas you’re more on the introverted side, not really liking people. When it’s lunchtime, you tend to eat alone not really giving a damn about everyone else. You’re not exactly an outcast, just more comfortable  by yourself. You’ve always been jealous of how Sunoo’s open to people, talkative, and just overall likable. Because unlike him, people think you’re being mean when you’re quiet and it looks like you’re not listening to whatever it is they’re saying. Around school, Sunoo has earned the nickname Sunny while you’ve been given the nickname Winter. Everyone sees how you walk away whenever Sunoo waves at you in the halls. Everyone is aware of how you scoff whenever Sunoo does aegyo in front of you. Everyone notices how you get mad whenever he links his arm with yours. But it’s Sunoo who sees the glint in your eyes the second they meet his by your locker. It’s Sunoo who notices the slight smile that plays at the corner of your lips whenever he calls himself “ddeonu.” And it’s Sunoo who’s aware that no matter how much you protest when your arms link, you’re never the one to let go first. So he sits at the desk in front of yours during lunch, chatting his butt off about his day while stealing bites of your lunch. He gives you face masks with the excuse of “it was a buy one get one free deal and I don’t know who else to give it to.” He asks if he can style your hair playing it off as “practice.” Little by little, you begin to open up. When you see him in the halls, you start to give him a smile reserved only for him. When he does aegyo you tease him by saying that Jake does it better. And when he links his arms with yours, your pinkies intertwine. You bring an extra bag of chips for lunch and start making your portions larger to share with him. You invite him to the mall since you saw an online promo while walking by. You start to enjoy the way he plays with your hair, sometimes even craving his touch. Because we all know, the sun has its way of melting ice. 

Jungwon

Yang Jungwon, the class president, has a 100% success rate in getting field trip forms submitted on time. Well, it would be 100% if it weren’t for you. It seems as if you’ve made it your life’s mission to do everything and anything that’ll piss off Jungwon. Every time there’s a permission slip that needs to get signed, he constantly finds himself having to remind you of it so that it’d get turned in on time. Yet despite this, you always turn it in a day later. When things are kind of slow in class, you’re always talking to someone and have earned the title of the chatty kid no matter where the teacher makes you sit. Jungwon has no clue how someone as big of a procrastinator as you, always chatting with people when you don’t need to, and has your music playing so loud that everyone else hears, gets the good grades that you do. But regardless of what you do, you don’t bring down the class average so he’ll give you that. It’s time for a new seating arrangement and where does the teacher have you sit? Right next to him. So he’s dreading it, knowing that for the next 2 weeks he won’t get any work done, have to deal with you chatting to everyone, and has to be the one to catch you up when you enter class late.

“Hey,” you say with a smile as you settle in the seat next to his. He likes your smile, he won’t lie. But you’re annoying as hell. One week goes by as a back and forth of you constantly making efforts to get on Jungwon’s nerves but he returns the favor while teasing you back. With the two of you as partners, he starts to notice some things about you. Things like how you play with your thumb before raising your hand to answer the question. He sees that your notes are full of rushed scribbles and you dot your i’s close to the center but not just there. Your binder is covered with artwork of things you like and photos of you and your friends. Amidst your chattiness and tardiness, he finds himself looking forwards to certain things. He looks forward to your messy hair as you rush in 15 minutes late and start scribbling your notes in an effort to catch up. He looks forwards to how your conversations become a distraction from lectures. And he wonders to himself, what it’d be like if he were a photo in your binder.

As the second week continues, you start to see things differently with Jungwon. His reminders become less annoying and more useful as you take it in mind. When you’re late, he already has a second copy of the notes waiting for you on your desk. He buys you stickers for your binder using the excuse of “I stole it from my sister.” Before either of you realize it, it’s time for a new seating chart.

“Guess you’re happy to get rid of me, Wonie,” you joke as the two of you stood up to head to your new seats.

“I want you to sit across from me,” you hear him say.

“Huh?”

“At the Eggy Cafe on our first date,” he says before heading to his new seat.

Ni-ki

Dance class, it’s exhausting. Countless hours spent practicing a choreography that only lasts for a few minutes. Constantly getting yelled at by your teacher when you take a wrong step. Continuously in an unspoken competition with the best dancer of the school, Nishimura Riki. Ni-ki fools around during practices, usually to get on your nerves. Whenever you buy bungeoppang at the stall in front of the school, half of it instantly belongs to Ni-ki as he takes a bite when you’re not looking. Whenever the two of you are the only ones who’ve got the choreography down, sometimes you’ll slow things down to piss him off. There’s a flow to Ni-kis dances that no one else can replicate, a flow he was born with and can never be taught. Everyone, including him, is aware of this. But you’ve always been different from everyone else. All his life, he’s been told how good at dancing he is but you criticize him. While the others applaud his performance, your eyes are watching his every move. He almost hates how well you can spot the mistakes he can’t even see on himself. But as time goes on, these little competitions start to develop between you two, even outside of dance. When dance class ends, the two of you race to see who’ll get to the bungeoppang stall first. Last one there pays for bungeoppang. This is the competition you let Ni-ki win, using “I’m already tired from dancing” as an excuse. In the mornings, you compete to get to first period. Loser pays for lunch. This is the competition where there’s a middle ground between you two. Sometimes you win, sometimes he wins, other times you enter class together. When walking home, you compete to get to the bottom of the stairs at the subway station first. Whoever loses has to carry the other’s bag until you get home. Ni-ki lets you win this one, using “If I ran any faster I’d trip,” as an excuse. These small competitions become the things you look forward to throughout the week, enjoying the thrill of small moments with Ni-ki. At one point, the two of you (on separate occasions) talked to Jungwon about the competitions, telling your side. To the both of you, he says the same thing. “Why don’t you see who asks the other out first and plans the better date?”

❦ written by riri (@enhykkul)  | blog masterlist

requests are currently open! rules can be found here | anon emojis

[talonwings]

Who We Are - Empires SMP writing

a gift for you, empiresblr, courtesy of my now 5 hours of fWhip headcanons. feel free to kill me when you're done. (also sorry i don't yet have an AO3 i can link to, i've been on the wait list foreeevvveerrr).

CW for slight body horror, angst, and i guess suffocation kind of?

“fWhip? Hello? Are you in here?”

He heard the call--how could he not have, when the voice was hers? Still, he did not move, remaining where he slumped against the wall of the underground room. One of the redstone crystals blooming from the stone was jammed against his shoulder blade, but even the pain could not entice him to rise.

“fWhip, come out!” Gem’s voice was a mixture of frustration and concern, a tone he rarely heard from her--well, the frustration he had heard before, but the worry was new. Gem almost never fretted about anything; it was how she had kept him and Sausage so well in line up until now.

“I’m going to come down there!” The threat echoed down the passageway that separated the secret room from the unassuming shopfront above it. “I know where your lair is, it isn’t a secret! Don’t make me come down there!”

“Don’t,” fWhip rasped. “Please.”

Gem either couldn’t or didn’t hear him. “I’m giving you one minute, and then I’m coming down there whether you like it or not!”

“Please,” he tried again, but his voice would not obey him. It petered out almost as soon as it passed his lips. He licked them, swallowed, coughed, tried a third time. “Gem, please, go away.”

This time, it seemed, she did hear, for she answered, “I will not go away! Nobody’s seen you in two weeks, fWhip! We’re worried sick!”

“I’m fine,” he croaked--a lie.

“You don’t sound fine,” she retorted. “I’m coming down.”

He opened his mouth to warn her off again, but the tell-tale sound of the painting door sliding back masked whatever he might have tried to say. Seconds later, her footsteps started up, the familiar click of those heeled purple boots getting ever louder as she marched along the passageway toward his laboratory.

fWhip’s gaze darted around in a panic, searching out anyplace that would be suitable to hide. He hadn’t moved from his current spot in over twelve hours, and his limbs protested as he shoved himself violently to his feet, teetering off-balance from the unfamiliar motion. Finally, he settled on a small cranny near the back of the chamber, and limped over to it, cramming himself inside just as Gem’s footfalls indicated that she had reached the door to the lab itself. He heard her swing it open, and then her voice, much clearer now, softly called, “fWhip? Where are you?”

“Go away,” he replied, hating the stony rasp that he couldn’t seem to get rid of now. “Don’t want to see you.”

“Well, that’s just rude,” she replied. He could imagine the look on her face, and fought against the lump it brought to his throat. He wanted to apologize, to beg for her forgiveness, to throw himself into her arms.

“Didn’t ask you to come,” he croaked instead.

“No, actually, Jimmy did,” Gem replied waspishly. “Your enemy. You remember him? The one you stole his most precious possession from? He sent me a message three days ago to tell me he hadn’t seen or heard from you in over a week. Mind you, this was after I’d been questioned by Sausage, Pearl, and Shrub as to why you’ve missed the last two alliance meetings. fWhip, even your enemies are worried about you. Where have you been?”

Oh, if only you knew. His mouth twisted with a hateful, bitter little smile. “Busy.”

Gem audibly scoffed. “Right.”

“Leave, Gem.” The order tasted strange in his mouth, when he desperately wanted her to stay.

“Not until I see you.” He heard her start moving around the room, picking things up and nudging them with her feet, rearranging boxes and sliding barrels aside as she searched.

“Leave.” The cranny was small, but he squashed himself further inside anyway, stone scraping against all the places where his skin was exposed.

“Are you back there?” His stomach squeezed with terror as he heard her move toward him, squeezing between two of the suspension tubes where he had once stored specimens he was researching. “I can’t see you.”

“Please, leave, please.” If he couldn’t order her, he could at least beg her. “Gem, please, if you care about me at all, go away.”

“fWhip, I do care about you,” she said gently. “That’s why I’m here in the first place. Please come out. I just want to know you’re safe.”

He could feel his heart ripping itself in half--desperation to hide warring violently with the desire to finally be seen, even if it would cost him everything. It felt like it might burn a hole in his chest, and his hands tightened reflexively into fists as he battled himself for what seemed an eternity.

“Please, little brother,” Gem whispered.

It was as if she had caved his chest in. A sob dragged itself from his throat before he could stop it, but he finally let himself unfurl from the cranny to drape limply across the floor, gazing up at his sister’s blue-violet eyes as they widened in shock, which turned to horror, which turned to sorrow.

“Oh, fWhip…” Gem reached out a hand toward him, but hesitated, drawing her fingers back before she could reach him. “What happened?”

“You really want to know?” He had to shove back another sob with a monumental effort, watching the way her fingers trembled as she gazed at him. “Or do you want to leave, like I told you to before?”

“No, I would never,” she gasped. “Not now. Not like this.” She sat down on the floor, her violet cloak flowing behind her like a pool of silky water, and slid closer to him, although not quite close enough for their hands to touch. “Tell me what happened.”

He let his eyes drift away from hers, toward the ceiling and the red crystals dripping from its shadowy recesses. “Well, it began two weeks ago.”

Two weeks earlier…

fWhip was not a stranger to surprises, but he liked receiving them far less than he liked planning them.

It had been a long elytra flight from the undisclosed location of the Wither Rose headquarters back to his home in the Grimlands, and the multiple hours in the air were wearing on his body--even though he had been wearing his scarlet goggles for the duration, his eyeballs still ached as if the wind had been hammering them, as did his shoulder blades from the yank and drift of the elytra against his own muscles.

“Maybe next time I take a horse,” he muttered to himself as he angled in for the landing. The deepslate roofs of the Grimlands were beginning to glide by beneath him now, and he made for the circular patch of dirt at the back of the manor that was his customary landing site, his eyes trained on it until something else caught his attention.

“I am positive that was not there before…” One hand came up to tap his chin as his gaze caught on the massive outcrop of deepslate that had bloomed at the front corner of the manor gardens, studded with glinting redstone crystals. A darker shadow within the ring-shaped formation suggested there might possibly be a hole there, though how deep was indiscernible from this far above.

“If somebody has been trying to steal from me again--wait.” fWhip narrowed his eyes at the spot, investigating it more closely now, for it seemed more familiar the closer he drew. He could vaguely recall setting a circle of rocks within the closed hedges, and in their center, a red container, filled with--

“Damn! Xornoth again!” His breath huffed out harshly as he realized what had happened. First the explosion, and now this…

Veering off-course from his typical spot, he carefully glided down until he was low enough to snap the elytra closed and drop gracefully to the ground between the wide hedge rows. From down here, the deepslate ring seemed much larger than it had from the air, its jagged edges stabbing into the blue sky. He could tell now that there was, indeed, a hole at the center, exactly where he had placed the shulker-box filled with Xornoth’s corruption.

“Damn,” he whispered again. He edged closer, peering carefully at the hole as he neared in an attempt to see what might be at the bottom. It appeared to be deeper than he was tall, however, and he was forced to maneuver up to the very lip of the hole to get a good look at the bottom. Thankfully, there did seem to be a bottom, lurking maybe ten feet below the surface; the depths of the hole were quite dark, though, only dimly illuminated by patches of glimmering red crystals, and he was unable to determine much more than that.

fWhip wondered, briefly, if he ought to just ignore the hole. Common sense would seem to suggest that it was involved with Xornoth in some way, and therefore worthy of at least being avoided for the time being until he could request the help of his allies. fWhip, however, whether fortunately or not, had always been availed of a strong sense of curiosity--it was how he had developed so many of his gadgets and tools. Besides that, there was something about the depths of the small hole that seemed to call to him, and him specifically.

He glanced around, taking stock of who might be nearby in case he needed to call for help, and saw no one in the immediate vicinity. There was a groundskeeper’s cottage just on the other side of the hedge row, but he had no way of knowing whether anyone might be inside.

“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to take a chance,” he murmured. “Here goes.”

Gingerly, he sat down at the edge of the hole, dangling his legs off the side and exploring for possible footholds. It took him a minute, but his toes finally caught on a ledge, and he was able to hoist himself down and into the vertical shaft. Thankfully, the same jagged-edged property of deepslate that made it look menacing also made it excellent for climbing, and he had relatively little difficulty lowering himself the full ten or eleven feet to the bottom, where his feet landed on solid stone. Looking up, he was surprised how dim the sky seemed to be after such a short descent.

Now what? he thought to himself as he gazed around at the narrow walls on all sides. Surely I didn’t make an ass of myself climbing down here for no reason.

He had but a few seconds to wonder, as a strange hiss caught his attention, echoing from the rock walls. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but the small hole began rapidly to fill with a reddish mist, which, when he inhaled it, made the inside of his nose and throat burn as if he had inhaled fire. He coughed, accidentally inhaled again, and coughed more violently, and still the stuff spewed into the cavern, and he began to wonder whether this was a trap, and whether he had been an idiot for climbing down here, and whether his allies--his friends, his sister--would find his corpse rotting down here. His hands scrabbled for handholds to lever himself back up, but the mist had filled his eyes now, and it stung, forcing him blindly to his knees. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, could barely think. Lights danced behind his eyelids, and his throat was a tunnel of fire, and then he was unconscious, and knew no more.

Present day…

“And the next thing I knew, I woke up. And...this.” fWhip gestured down to himself, unable to keep his mouth from curling like he had tasted something sour. “Or, well, part of it.”

“Part of it?” Gem cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it was just the wings at first.” He tugged at the grey-black appendages, hating that he could feel it when his fingers brushed the leathery flesh. “And to be honest, I thought they were awesome. Who hasn’t dreamed of having wings? Sure, they looked a little gargoyle-ish, but it seemed like a small price to pay for not having to use elytra anymore. And it felt like the redstone magic was helping me, maybe giving me a gift to fight against Xornoth. I thought it might be something good.”

“And then…” Gem prompted when he trailed off.

“And then...the rest started,” he whispered. “I tried to ignore it at first. I thought maybe I was hallucinating, or getting sick, because it started with just my eyes, and I felt like maybe it would go away if I just, I don’t know, pretended not to notice. But then it was my skin, and then my hands, and then...and then my face.” He turned away from her as a visible shudder made its way through him. “I look disgusting.”

“Why didn’t you call us for help?” Gem murmured.

“Because it was my fault it happened!” he growled, shaking his head. “Because I was an idiot and went down that hole and breathed in that gas, and now I’m a monster, and I have no one to blame but myself. Because I couldn’t wait for you.”

“fWhip, no!” He could see the glimmer of moisture in her eyes, and he hated himself even more for it, for making her upset. “It isn’t your fault. You didn’t know what would happen, and you’ve always been an investigator. And now you’ve had to suffer alone, and I had no idea, and…” Her voice caught. “I was so worried. I thought maybe the demon…and especially after those dreams...”

He swallowed. “I...I’m sorry. I just...I didn’t know how to face everyone like this.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, simply listening to their own breaths. Finally, Gem said, “It doesn’t look that bad, you know.”

fWhip eyed her dubiously. “Gem, I look like a gargoyle. Like some kind of…” The word demon couldn’t force itself out, but he could see she understood, for she vigorously shook her head.

“No, you don’t look anything like that,” she said. After a long pause, she quietly added, “You look like my little brother.”

He tried, but couldn’t stop the tears from sliding down his cheeks. “Thanks,” he whispered.

She reached over and finally took his hand, and he almost shouted with joy at the touch of another person; her skin was warm and soft, her delicate tiny fingers gentle as they closed around his rough, clawed ones.

“We’ll figure this out,” she promised. “Together.”

He nodded, and squeezed her hand. “Together.”

[hartrathaway]

Hii I'm interested in Hartley's story but I know literally nothing about him except that he was Wally's gay bestie in the 90s, what's his deal? Do you have any comic recs for him?

HI IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!!!!!!

Okay, so really brief, his dealio is: born to ‘incredibly rich’ parents (we never get a specified ballpark, but Hartley states that he was ‘born with two silver spoons in [his] mouth’ if that helps context wise), Hartley’s deaf!  His parents had him get cochlear implants when he was a child, which ‘medically healed him’.  (His deafness has been treated extremely ablest by writers who actually remember he’s deaf, I need to warn you of this now.)  He’s a music and sound waves guy, a former villain (it’s an on again off again relationship, but a lot of his character is defined by his time as a hero) and he’s very leftist.  Gay best friend in the AIDS crisis turned Wally West from a midwestern conservative to a leftie as well.  (Wally’s wife, Linda Park, was a major contributing factor, but we’re focusing on Hartley for this, so I’m gonna talk about him.)

I’ve got a mix of good reading from all over, so I’m gonna break this into sections, and do my best to describe which is which.  (all my screencaps are from this website right here, because i do not own all the back issues and it would have taken much, much longer to do this post, and as such, some of them are not sized or formatted correctly)  Click the read more if you’re interested!  Please note: I am not a 100% authority figure on Hartley, and I know there’s a few stories I have left out (the story with Bart Allen’s first appearance is a good one that Hartley is in), but these are the gist of who is he, what he’s been up to, and what is the family drama.

So for New Earth (otherwise known as post-Crisis on Infinite Earths), is where Hartley actually becomes Wally’s friend, and is a hero!  I’m going to focus on this section first.  Unfortunately, due to being a minor character, a lot of stuff is broken into small stories, or things that are happening behind the scenes, so there’s no real issue x - y that’s gonna help much.

The Flash Vol 2 #31, #32 Quick summary: In issue 31, supervillain here is killing homeless people, Hartley has been helping these same people get up on their feet by helping them get squatter’s rights.  They skip the fighting because a kid asks if they’re going to fight for a half hour and then team up, and go right to the team up.  They get Linda Park in, supervillain ends up backfiring his powers.  In issue 32, Wally, Hartley, and their pal Mason officially move to Keystone city.  Hartley’s folks are in trouble while the three of them are trying to freeload (off of Hartley’s parents, his and his parents’ relationship is better now than it had been, for a multitude of reasons), Wally and Hartley rescue Hartley’s parents, we also meet Jerrie, Hartley’s sister, and all is resolved there.  Yay, the family loves each other again!

(issue 31)

(issue 32)

The Flash Vol 2 #53 Special mention this is the issue where Hartley comes out and also has to inform Wally that Wally cannot tell who is a homosexual.  Also Wally’s an IRS agent here, for shame Wallace.  At least Hartley gets to cosplay Wally at the end, so that’s fun.  Content warning for this issue specifically is some casual homophobia, just so you know that going in.

(issue 53)

The Flash Vol 2 #170 In 170, Hartley’s being contacted by his father to call in ‘a favor’ that Hartley owes him.  The main plot line includes (one of) Wally’s ex(es) showing up, a former hero and teammate, Frances Kane, otherwise known as Magneta.  A person has been found murdered at Keystone Motors, and supervillain Goldface begins rallying union workers (which seems to just be a poorly timed coincidence).  The story itself (170 - 173) in and of itself is really fun, but I’m only going to talk about Hartley, or else I’ll be here all day.

(issue 170)

The Flash Vol 2 #174, #175, #178, #179 And here we get some drama! I’m grouping all of these together, since it’s all the same chunk of the story for Hartley, but since it’s the Flash, Wally’s center stage.  In 174, the people who were living with the Rathaway family aren’t exactly big fans of Hartley.  They know he’s changed his ways, he’s a hero now, but it’s just…  something feels off.  There’s loud music sounds, and bam!  Suddenly Hartley’s there and oh boy is this gonna be a hot mess.  In issue 175, we see some footage, and Hartley’s the lead suspect in his parents’ murder, considering that the footage has Hartley onscreen.  178 rolls up, and after Wally’s getting Gorilla Grodd taken care of (and that fight is a doozy), Wally gets to find out Hartley’s been arrested for the murder of his own parents, and Hartley confesses on-screen to his parents’ murder  (Also Hartley’s got a beard now, that’s how you know he’s depressed.) 179 opens with Hartley being processed.  Linda and Wally go to see him, and although Hartley confessed, he said “I think I did.”  (emphasis is mine; in the panel Hartley says “I think I did.”) Joker?  He’s got some Joker-fied people, and poor Hartley gets it too :(  Hartley straight up nearly kills Captain Boomerang (it’s okay, Wally stops him), and surprise!  Welcome back to Iron Heights Hartley.  Gonna have a fun time :)

(issue 174; this is the least messy part of the panel, but it was intended to be that way)

(issue 175)

(issue 178)

(issue 179)

The Flash: Iron Heights Brief interlude from the main comic line, we’ve got a one-shot that’s taking place in Iron Heights.  This takes place before Hartley gets arrested, presumably (since, y’know, they’re breaking in and all).  Fun one-shot honestly, keeps me on my toes the whole time.  Hartley’s a main character, and it’s less personal drama and very story driven.  You don’t need this to enjoy Hartley regardless, but I enjoy it!

(The Flash: Iron Heights, which you can read here.)

The Flash Volume 2 #189, #190 189! Now we find out how Hartley’s parents were actually murdered!  No spoilers, but we do get a prison breakout.  This is where we get some origin story! Don’t read this first though, because you’re going to be spoiling yourself the plot of his arrest.  In 190 we get more origin, including the way DC treated his deafness. (It’s ablest, and I’m still mentally grappling how you wouldn’t notice your child being deaf for two years, but okay Rachel and Osgood, you keep being bad.)  The story goes on for now, with Hartley on the run from… well, everyone.

(issue 189)

(issue 190)

This is pretty much it for New Earth Hartley up until Countdown.

I don’t like Countdown at all.  I’m much happier pretending that Countdown doesn’t exist (both because of how it treats Hartley for a multitude of reasons, and how Thad Thawne is treated leading up to Countdown).  More happens with Hartley’s storyline in Countdown, but I hate it with such a passion that I wouldn’t recommend it at all.  Countdown leads into Final Crisis, and I’m not a fan of either.  However, should you wish to read and make your own opinions, here’s Countdown and here’s Final Crisis.  Please note, Countdown’s issues are done in reverse order (so from issue 51 to 1, rather than 1 to 51)

And now I’m going to tell you the gospel truth:

I do like New 52 Hartley!  A lot. Unfortunately, he’s not as much in the n52 Flash run as I would like (but I’m biased, as obvious by my url).  What you need to know is that Hartley’s a musician now, like orchestra director, and he’s in a relationship with Barry’s boss, David Singh. (power move, honestly)  Unfortunately, we don’t get a whole lot in the main line.  Also at this point, the Wally West of New Earth hasn’t transitioned to the n52.  Wallace West of n52 is an entirely different character, and that’s a whole other issue for another discussion.  Wally West as we know him from New Earth doesn’t come back for a while.  Wally and Hartley haven’t talked since before Flashpoint, and that’s a shame. 

So read the Crimes of Passion Anthology he’s got please I’m begging you.  The only downside is that the artist gave him a haircut.

(Crimes of Passion: Secret Admirer)

I haven’t read anything DCeased related, and while I know Hartley gets his time to shine and kiss David, I can’t tell you much beyond that.  I’m pretty sure there’s other people who can tell you more, but it’s not me I’m afraid.  (This is me saying guys, please tell me about Hartley in DCeased, someone tell me about my fictional lavender marriage husband.)

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Texts from the Lost Tomb part 6.1

🎶 Back on the bullshit I never got off🎶

Is this another unnecessary story arc?? With three sections??

Yes.

Wushanju Crew Chat

Wang Meng: You know, I’m someone who appreciates consistency in my day. My life is pleasant, very few issues indeed if you ignore the big ones. And yet. Yet here we are. With unresolved messes at the end of a day.

Wang Pangzi: SOMETHIN YOU NEED TO SAY MARY POPPINS

Wang Meng: We need to talk about Huo Daofu and the glittery bead curtain.

Wang Pangzi: MY FAVE TEEN WIZARD SERIES

Wu Xie: did you turn on that suggested word thingy lol

What glittery bead curtain

Wang Meng: I closed the shop at 6:00pm this evening on the dot. I locked all of the doors in and out of the shop very carefully, especially in light of recent events. The hall leading to the back office was empty. I filed the day’s paperwork, updated and sent emails, and then spent an extra hour organizing receipts and dusting. When I came back out, there were glittery iridescent bead curtains over the front entrance to the shop.

What could this mean?

Wu Xie: uh that you need to spend less time at work?

Wang Pangzi: LOOKS LIKE WE GOT ONE FOR THE DETECTIVES. THE MYSTERY OF THE BEDAZZLED THRESHOLD COMMENCES

Wu Xie: I think we can be relatively secure in thinking a glittery bead curtain isn’t a hostile threat

Wang Pangzi: SAYS YOU

I REMEMBER YE OLDE EXPLORATION TIMES HOW FAST THINGS GOT FURIOUS

BEANBAG CHAIRS SET AFLAME AND LEFT ON DOORSTEPS AS A WARNING

GLITTERBOMBS FOR DAYS

PANIC AT THE DISCO

Wang Meng: Ugh, forget it. I should have just taken them down, regardless of who they belong to.

Zhang Qiling: They are not mine.

Wang Pangzi: A BOLD STATEMENT COMING FROM OUR PRIME SUSPECT

SOMEONE QUICK GO DRAW CHALK AROUND THE DOORWAY TO MARK THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

Wang Meng: Do we know anyone who *would* sneak in and put those up? For whatever reason, legal or not? Even as a joke?

Wang Pangzi: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ASKING WHETHER WE KNOW ANYONE WHO IS CHAOTIC, AN OUTLAW, A PRANKSTER AND/OR SNEAKS INTO PLACES

BECAUSE THAT WOULD MEAN OUR SUSPECT LIST IS LITERALLY EVERYONE WE KNOW EXCEPT FOR YOU.

Wu Xie: okay let’s think about this; for starters, I didn’t break into my own shop

Wang Meng: You would be in danger of doing some work in the process, that’s true.

Wang Pangzi: LOL

Wu Xie: ANYWAY let’s keep going. For example, Xiao Ge would only break in somewhere for a good reason. Xiao Ge, did you do this?

Zhang Qiling: No.

Wu Xie: okay who’s next

Wang Pangzi: YOU REALLY MISSED YOUR CALLING IN INTERROGATION TIANZHEN

REALLY PUT THE SCREWS TO HIM

IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE;)

Zhang Qiling: How can we be certain *you* didn’t do it?

Wang Meng: Admittedly that was my guess, too.

Wang Pangzi: WOW I SEE HOW IT IS

BLAME PANGZI AS USUAL

ANYWAY HOW DOES HUO DAOFU FIT INTO THIS

Wu Xie: Oh yeah him! Oops I got distracted

Wang Pangzi: UR ENTIRE HISTORY IN A NUTSHELL

Wu Xie: Ugh fuck off

Wang Meng what abt Huo Daofu??

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wu Xie: oh sorry xiaoge I didn’t realize you wouldn’t have spent much time around him last year

He and I go way back

Zhang Qiling: Way back where?

Babysitters Club Chat

Wang Pangzi: I CANNOT BELIEVE HE IS BUYING YOUR INNOCENT ACT

IF YOU EVER TURN TO EVIL WE ARE FUCKED

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO HUO DAOFU IS

YOU WERE EXTREMELY POLITE AND BORDERLINE FRIENDLY TOWARDS HIM

Zhang Qiling: I wanted him to feel welcome. I wanted to be sure he understands he has a place here. A specific place.

Wang Pangzi: FOR A SILENT GUY YOU ARE A MASTER AT SUBTLE POWER PLAYS IM ALL TINGLY

LMAO THE IDEA OF WU XIE LEAVING YOU FOR HUO DAOFU IS HILARIOUS AND ALSO NOPE

Zhang Qiling: Rationally, I understand that.

Main Chat

Wang Meng: Huo Daofu is coming for the weekend—didn’t Wu Xie tell you? Wu Xie asked me to check in a week ahead so we could start getting ready for his arrival

Wu Xie: oh yeah I did do that

Wang Meng: Fortunately I know you and so I already went ahead and took care of everything.

Re: the trip

He made a deal with Wu Xie’s doctor that he would do periodic checkups on him here at Wushanju

Bc Wu Xie hates being in the hospital

And frankly the hospital hates him too

Wang Pangzi: FAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTEMPT LOL

I FORGOT HUO DAOFU WAS DOING THAT

A VERY CHIVALROUS GESTURE

WOULDNT YOU SAY

XIOAGE

Zhang Qiling: Is it safe for him to be here with a criminal loose on the premises?

Wu Xie: Right, back to the curtain! Let’s focus on the curtain, hmm?

Wang Pangzi: I AM SO LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS WEEKEND.

ALSO WE CAN RULE OUT XIAO BAI FOR THE CURTAIN SHE JUST SENT A SELFIE FROM NORWAY COVERED IN GREEN SLIME WITH ZERO CONTEXT, UR PROTEGE INDEED

Wu Xie: okay but who else would do something so oddly charming yet illegal and—wait.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: hey, Glasses hasn’t been in touch lately right?

Li Cu: uh nope

Unless u count the outdated memes

Why, is money or Xie Yuchen missing

Or is this curtain related, I saw Wang Meng’s tweet

Wu Xie: haha no nothing to worry about really

(I mean maybe? but who knows)

Wang Meng is probably just getting a little paranoid in his old age

Li Cu: better than getting reckless and stupid as hell in ur old age

Wu Xie: …hey:(

Unknown Number: Li Cu, we discussed this.

Wu Xie: ????????

Li Cu: *sigh* fine, reckless and stupid as heck

Unknown Number: …close enough.

Wu Xie: EXCUSE who is that

Madame, Sir, Non-Binary Tree Spirit, etc—whomst the fuck

Are you

Li Cu is underage FYI

So Im staying on this chat

Li Cu: okay first of all, it’s not like that

Second of all I’m literally not underage I s2g

u threw the embarrassing surprise bday party, okay so u should remember

And C, that’s my counselor and I invited her. She wanted to meet u and I knew u wouldn’t agree to a visit so I added her to our chat

we have been discussing u

Wu Xie: Oh wow!!!!!!!

What a surprise:)

hi so nice to meet you:)

Main Chat:

Wu Xie: RED FUCKING ALERT

FUCK THE CURTAIN FUCK THE VISIT

IVE BEEN TRICKED INTO FAMILY THERAPY BY A SMUG TEENAGER WHO TEXTS UNKNOWN NUMBERS

Wang Meng: I assume that means something to someone here?

Not my problem? Good.

Wang Pangzi: AHAHAHA GOD I LOVE LI CU

HES LIKE ADORABLE KARMA FOR ALL THE SHIT YOUVE PUT ME THROUGH

IM RAISING HIS ALLOWANCE

Wu Xie: wait i give him an allowance

has he been collecting on two allowances??

Zhang Qiling: Three. I knew about both of yours.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: so uh may I ask your name?

Unknown Number: you can call me Ms. Lee.

Now, if you’re comfortable talking in this format, why don’t you tell me how things have been going?

Wu Xie: oh everything is normal and fine and safe as usual, why do you ask:)

Li Cu: I heard about ur necklace thing. nice of you to NOT mention it.

another dangerous adventure. again. prick.

Ur lucky your cool boyfriend cares about you so much or you’d have already died like ten years ago

Wu Xie: lol try twenty years ago

Li Cu: That isn’t funny.

Unknown Number: …What?

Wu Xie: shit ur right, okay that was a bit glib, my apologies.

…I use humor as a coping mechanism?

Unknown Number: and Li Cu, how do you feel about that?

Li Cu: he doesn’t even know what that phrase means

He doesn’t cope, like ever

In fact

It’s kind of why we met

Which is a funny story in retrospect tbh

Wu Xie: haha what are you talking about sweetie hahaha need I remind you of certain anecdotes that could idk send me to jail maybe lmao

Unknown Number: …You know, perhaps an in-person meeting might be more effective?

Wu Xie: haha such a nice idea but why

Main Chat

Wu Xie: If I go to jail, I’ll have to create alliances for protection, right, that’s how it works on tv

Who do we know who spends time in jail

Other than Hei Yangjing, he’s only ever there for like 12 hours and i suspect he just gets himself arrested bc he enjoys the breaking out process

Also how’s the curtain case coming along

Zhang Qiling: Has someone threatened you?

Wu Xie: well not yet but soon I’m sure

Wang Pangzi: WHERE WAS THIS PARANOIA WHEN WE GOT TAKEN TO THE TEA HOUSE HUH

Snake Eyes Minus Your Fucking Therapist Chat

Li Cu: okay how tf did u pull off spy and undercover shit

u are sus as hell

Wu Xie: damn son is it pick on Wu Xie night

I missed the flyers or I would’ve invited my uncles

Also re: the curtain it’s been mostly solved

Li Cu: I’m not your son, idiot.

Wu Xie: …oh. Sorry, sorry, you’re right, bad choice of words, haha

Forget i said anything

Delete this chat even

Li Cu: shit I meant

Legally, biologically, I meant—

shit

…I turn into an asshole as a coping mechanism?

Wu Xie: oh that’s all okay! I have to go do something else now let me know if you need anything okay kid thanks!

Li Cu: goddamn it calm down who’s the kid here

lemme organize my thoughts so I can articulate my emotions fuckin healthily or w/e

Ugh maybe for like one afternoon we could go to Ms. Lee together? She knows how to word stuff

Wu Xie: uh…okay.

Li Cu: Anyway you don’t need to worry abt jail

As if you would survive prison for one day you’d piss off half the place in like an hour or less

I gave Ms. Lee the heavily edited version of the desert highway to hell roadtrip and i discussed it more in terms of like “nightmarish but still wouldn’t take any of it back”

Well maybe the sand

that shit was everywhere

Wu Xie: oh kiddo. It’s fine, really…You don’t have to explain yourself to me.

Li Cu: no, no it’s just

I do technically have a dad

who is an asshole. Being a son doesn’t really mean shit to me bc it sucked.

So you need to stop backing down just cuz ur guilty abt stuff. I’m really really glad ur not my dad in a good way. Do u get what I mean there

Where’s the mafia widower I followed into hell, huh

Wu Xie: Ur a good kid, despite my influence. I’m really glad you have someone to talk to after everything I…after everything. Wow this talking through feelings thing is kind of weird but nice ur right

Jfc no wonder it took me and xiaoge so long to—you know what, we won’t get into that

Li Cu: ew tmi

Also re: this week’s recent necklace fuckery

I moved my stuff here, I live here now

So you can’t die anymore

Or else…Idk I don’t have a threat planned

anyways abt the curtain

Wu Xie: oh my god, kid…kid you have no idea

I am in tears.

Li Cu: see this is why I can’t be nice to you I can sense the hallmark channel from here

Ugh don’t be sad in ur room that’s dumb

Go hug Pangzi or something

Maybe delete this chat

Or the curtain thing

Focus on the curtain thing

Just stfu and go away

Wu Xie: <3 screenshotting this <3

Li Cu: I take back everything I said. This is why Xiao Ge sleeps on the roof. I hope the ghosts of the Wangs put up that curtain to strangle you somehow. Go die in a stupid way, it’ll suit you.

Wu Xie: lol don’t worry I’m not gonna embarrass you with it or anything

Main Chat

Wu Xie: omg guys look how cute my kid is *sending screenshot*

Wang Pangzi: I MEAN

HE IS WISHING YOU DEATH

BUT SURE

CUTE I GUESS

Wu Xie: no but read the whole thing:):):)

Zhang Qiling: It is indeed very hard to remain angry with you. And you are welcome to join me on the roof.

Wang Pangzi: UH NOPE

NOT WHENI HAD TO BLEACH THE COUNTER IN THE KITCHEN

DONT TRAUMATIZE THE EARLY BIRDS THEYRE ALREADY FREAKED OUT BY U YA HOODIE CRYPTID

Wu Xie: ok true but babe ur like a sexy cryptid

Wang Meng: so, are we just accepting that there is a glittery curtain of unknown origin, and Huo Daofu is going to have to see it while he’s waiting for you at Wushanju bc you’re going to family therapy?

Wu Xie: right

Wang Pangzi: SHOULDA TAKEN EARLY RETIREMENT HUH

Wang Meng: I’m going to go dust something.

Unnamed Chat:

Unknown number: so the curtain…

Unknown number 2: yep, not my best work but I kinda panicked last minute u know

Unknown number: what is in the water at Wushanju that makes everyone dumb and attractive

Unknown number 2: relax they’ll figure it out

[your-eternal-muse]

Use Me (pt 1)

Part 2

A/N: Hello Everyone! This is my first ever fic that I've posted on this sight. I've been obsessed with Criminal Minds and Spencer Reid since the beginning of quarentine, so might as well put the obsession to good use! I hope you like it, and I am planning on posting a part 2 within the next couple days! Enjoy! (Also, I wrote and edited this on mobile so if the formating is weird I'm sorry)

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Character/Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abduction, nonconsensual drug use, mentions of drugs, swearing, dirty thoughts

Words: 1.6k

Beta: My good Friend Erin!

I'm burning.

My skin feels like flames are crawling up my arms and my legs shake with every uneven step I take.

Sweat coats my brow, and my stomach churns as the world spins around me.

All because of the hand resting on the nape of my neck, which belongs to the unsub dubbed "the wizard" by the public.

He has a habit of abducting women, injecting them with some weird mix of drugs, and leaving them to fend for themselves.

Only one has been fatal.

Let's hope that statistic stays that way.

He pushes me forward, and I only vaguely know where we are.

My mind is in shambles, able to think about one thing and one thing only.

Spencer.

Every inch of him is infecting my mind, making my core pulse like it never has before.

Every image that flashes through my mind creates a dirty chain reaction.

I've had fantasies before, but god, they don't come close to the ones running through my mind.

I swallow, and wrap my arms around myself.

"What did- What did you put in me, you bastard?"

He chuckled behind me.

"Something to kick your little crush on the doctor into something more. Call it a love potion."

"How the fuck-"

But I wasn't able to finish my sentence before he shoved me up a flight of stairs.

I trip, falling onto my knees, my palms digging into the stone of the steps.

He grabs the collar of my jacket and drags me up the stairs, letting me go once we reach the top.

I slump against the railing, trying to catch my breath.

He leans down, and pins something to my shirt.

I try to focus on his face, but it's dark, and my mind won't cooperate.

"Have fun."

He stands, ringing the doorbell of an apartment, before walking away.

I try to stand, to go after him but he's gone before I can stabilize myself onto my legs.

And then I hear the door creak open, and a voice speaks out.

"Hello?"

How the hell can one word ruin me?

"Sp-Spencer?" This is hell. How can I be around him like this? How did the unsub even find out?

"Y/N? Are you okay? What happened?"

He opens the door, and the light behind him basks him in an ethereal glow.

He comes towards me, worry creasing his face as he places his hands on my upper arms.

Even through two layers of clothing, the touch alone sends sparks up my skin.

I bite my tongue to hold back a moan.

"He got me." It's hard to breathe right, with him standing so close to me. My breaths are ragged and shallow.

"He got me, and he injected me with something, and then he brought me here."

He pulls me behind him as his hand rests on his gun, which is still situated on his hip from the work day.

His eyes scan the street, and when he finds no one, he turns around, and ushers me into the building.

He's behind me, a hand placed gently on my lower back to keep me steady as he leads me towards his apartment.

God what I wish those hands would do to me.

Those long, slender fingers move faster and faster within me, curling around that pretty little spot until-

I stop, putting a hand out to steady myself against the wall, a pained moan leaving my throat. Sweat drips down my temple.

"What did he do to you?"

His eyes raked up and down my body, obviously profiling me, trying to figure out what was going on.

"I don't know." I say through gritted teeth. "But it feels like my body is on fire."

He nods, and within a few seconds we’re entering his apartment.

I run my hands through my hair and rub my face.

This isn't helping.

I'm surrounded by him.

Everytime I breathe, I can smell his musk, the natural scent of Spencer.

I shed my jacket, trying to cool off, but it only helps for a second.

The heat is radiating from inside me.

I sit on his couch and put my head in my hands, my leg bouncing as I try to distract myself from the impossible.

The leather is cool against my back, as he pushes into me, his kisses feverish, his hands roaming.

I want to cry.

This is borderline painful.

"We need to get you to the hospital."

Shit that's the last thing I need. My team, let alone anyone seeing me all hot and bothered like I've never been before.

Yeah. No.

I shake my head.

"No. God no. I know how to make it go

away, I just-"

I take a shuddery breath.

"I just need to be alone."

"I'm not leaving you, y/n. You're obviously in pain."

God fucking damnit.

He rests on his knees in front of me, and his hand lays on my lower thigh.

God, of course his hands have to be right fucking there, god damnit.

If only he knew he was making it worse.

"Can you at least explain to me what you're feeling?"

Fuck.

Double fuck.

But what the hell am I supposed to do? He's a genius, he'd figure it out eventually.

His words are laced with worry and care, and his eyes are soft.

I couldn't say no to him, even if I wanted to.

I take a breath and clasp my hands together to keep them from shaking.

"Um, I'm really hot, like really hot. Uh,"

My pussy is pulsing with every breath I take.

"I can't focus. I'm shakey."

I swallow.

"I'm thirsty."

That's the understatement of the century.

He's looking at me, but I know he's in his head, trying to narrow down what could possibly be in my system.

But my answers were vague. They could be the symptoms of any number of narcotics.

I run my hands over my jeans, and stand, walking over to his windows.

"Fuck."

If I don't tell him, he's just going to keep worrying.

Here goes nothing.

"I'm horny, okay? I'm beyond horny."

When I turn to face him, he's standing with his hands in his pockets, red covering his cheeks. "Oh."

I groan, planting my face into my hands.

"This wasn't supposed to happen, at least not like this. He found out, I don't know how but he did, and now I'm here, horny as all hell, embarrassing myself with every second that passes and-"

"What did he find out?"

I pause for a moment, going over the words that had just left my mouth.

Shit.

Play dumb.

"What?"

He walks towards me, stopping in front of me to reach up and rip something from my shirt.

"Use me."

Please don't say that right now.

He turns it in between his fingers, to show me the note.

If my face wasn't already flushed, I'm sure it would have been.

"Please, y/n, tell me."

I could cry.

I really could.

I close my eyes, not wanting to look at him when I speak it into truth.

My hands were clenched so hard, my nails were sure to leave crescent moons on my palms.

"He found out, that," I bite my lip, and groan. "He found out that I like you. A lot more than as friends, okay? I don't know how but he did.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, before crossing my arms and staring at the ground.

"When I asked him why, he said it was to kick my crush on you into something more." I scoff, shifting my weight from foot to foot. "He called it a fucking love potion."

It's silent in the room.

I can hear the seconds pass by the clock resting on his wall.

I can feel his eyes on the side of my face.

"Let me help you."

His voice is soft, yet louder than I was expecting, and his fingers trail lightly up my arm.

That's when I look at him.

I shake my head.

"No. No, I can't let you do that. That's not fair to you. You're only doing because you feel like you have to and I can't do that t-"

"Y/n," his hand comes up to cover my mouth, and his eyes are darker than I've ever seen them.

God is it hot.

He wears a small smirk where his smile used to sit, and when he speaks, his voice is lowered.

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to, now would I?"

It wasn't a question like he had phrased it, oh no. It was a statement. One that told me he wanted it just as much as I did.

If you had told me this morning, that by the end of the night, I would have Spencer Reid offering to fuck drugs out of my system, I would have laughed in your face.

But right now, it was taking everything in me not to jump his bones.

His hand moves from my mouth, his fingers brushing hair out of my vision, tucking it behind my ear.

I stare, wide eyed at him, hands shaking as I reach up and wrap my hand around his wrist.

"Is that what you want me to do? You want me to fuck it out of you?"

I know this is exactly what the unsub wants.

I know we're falling right into his trap.

But god damn it, I want this too.

I want this so bad.

This is my decision.

I nod my head.

"Use your words."

I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I nearly gasped, "Yes, I want you to fuck me."

"Good girl."

[moonlit-mizukage]

Chapter twenty nine: 11 things I love about you 

Summary: Y/l/n Y/n, a third year at Sakura High School, is just a girl with a bad attitude towards anyone outside her small circle. When y/n’s younger sister starts first year, she gains a lot of attention. Unfortunately for everyone in school, the Y/l/n household has one rule, No dating till y/n does. Some people become just desperate enough to pay the leader of the “Monsters”, the trouble making group on campus, to date y/n. What will happen when she finds out? (All characters aged up to third year unless otherwise stated)

Tw: Swearing, mentions of past violence

An: The poem format once again do be bad cause tumblr wont let me make it look a certain way. 

AN: I made a server if anyone wants to join!! https://discord.gg/R4URagRF

_______________________________________________________________

Third person Pov 

Y/n was laying on her bed staring at the ceiling, she let out a deep sigh as she heard her sister in the room laughing obnoxiously loud. 

“Mei!” She said slamming her hand on the wall. “Why are you being so loud?” She didn’t respond, so y/n stood up sighing. She walked into the hall. 

“Mei!” She yelled into her open door. “Who are you talking to at this hour?” 

“Yamaguchi.” She said. Y/n rolled her eyes. 

“Don’t keep each other up all night, and tell Yams I love him please.”  

“Of course Y/n.” Mei said as Y/n left the room and headed down stairs.

She went into the cupboard and grabbed a cup. Filling it up from the tap,  she looked out the window into the night. 

A tap on the glass startled her as she tossed the cup into the sink and looked at what the cause of the noise was. Standing in the window was Kyotani. She leaned over as she opened the window. 

“What the hell are you doing?!? You scared me half to death! Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Tendou asked me to pick you up and take you to him.” He said ignoring her previous questions. 

“Why..?” She was skeptical of him. 

“Just fucking, come on.” He said clearly annoyed. 

“Fine. Next time use the door you psycho.” She said as she slammed the window. 

She walked over to the front door of her house. As she opened the door Kyotani stepped inside. 

“Hurry the fuck up. We have to go.” He said as he rolled his eyes. She turned as she yelled up the stairs. 

“Mei! I am going out. If any violence occurs where was I?”

“At home.” A voice yelled back. 

“Okay let’s go.” She said as she pushed him out the door. A car sat before them in her driveway. She gave him a clearly confused look. “You have a car?” 

“Just get in.” He got in the driver's side as you hopped in only for him to speed off immediately. 

“Slow down Sonic.” She said with a chuckle. 

“Fuck off. My car my fucking speed. My fucking music too.” He said as he slapped his radio on. A CD started to play as heavy metal began to blast throughout the car. 

“Nice song.” Y/n complimented. 

“Fuck yeah it is.” He said. 

The rest of the car ride was filled with Kyotani’s music. It seemed like hours but really it was such a short time. Kyotani pulled up to the view point where you and Tendou shared the deep and personal things the night you told him you liked him. He got out of the car as he walked around and ripped your door open. “Get the fuck out. Over there.” He pointed to what you now noticed was Tendou leaning up against a bike. It was dark, but he looked absolutely stunning in the moonlight. Y/n’s breath hitched as she approached him. 

A car pulled up with Terushima standing from the sun roof. 

“Don’t fuck this up Guess!” He yelled as Kyotani hopped in and the other four monsters sped off. 

The two who were now completely alone laughed at the previous situation they just saw.. 

“Hey Y/n.” He said as he passed you something from his pocket. 

“What’s this for?” She asked as she took it. 

“The car key if you want to leave at any time.” 

“Oh.” She said as she looked at it closer.

“I am sorry to bring you all the way out here, but I promise it will make sense if you are willing to hear me out.” 

“Satori, I just want us to be okay.” He looked her in the eyes. 

“I have something I wrote down. So please,” He began to say. Y/n had never heard his voice sound so fragile. “I’m not always great with this shit.” 

“It’s okay, take your time.” She said as she gave him a small smile. He pulled the paper ball  from his pocket. It was crumpled and torn around the edges when he pulled it open. He took a deep breath before he began to read.  

“I love the way you laugh and how it can instantly change my sour mood, 

I love the way you treat your friends and the strangers on the streets,

I love the way you hold yourself and how you never back down even when others would,

I love the way I feel when your hands are in mine.

I love the way you take my breath away and make me feel safe,  

I love the way you show me how much you care even through the little things you do,

 I love how you make me feel like I am important again and how much I really mean to you,

I love how your smile lights up your whole face and a whole street block of people can feel the warmth.

I love how you are always willing to try new things, like getting on my bike at 1am angry

I love how you confessed to me and even your angsty poem from class,

But most importantly I love you, not just with a small piece of my heart either, 

I would travel any distance, any planet or any galaxy, just to feel your love,

Cause you,

You are my Paradise.” 

“Satori,” He noticed the tears in her eyes while he shoved the paper back into his pocket. He wiped her tears away with his thumb. He moved in closer to her as their lips almost touched. 

“I’m sorry my poem sucked. I just wanted you to know that I love you Y/n.” He said as he started into her eyes. 

“I love you too Satori.” With that they pulled each other in for a passionate kiss.

When the two pulled back for air Tendou looked her in the eyes once again. 

“Do you think you could ever forgive me?” 

“I had the moment I saw you tonight. I just was worried you would speak to me the same way you did over text.” 

“I thought you would hate me by now. Especially after last night?” She laughed. 

“I shouldn’t encourage violence, but off the record, damn Satori, my hero in a leather jacket.” It was his turn to laugh now. 

“Did Mad tell you what happened exactly?” 

“Not really honestly.” He began to tell her about his night. After he was done she told him all the dumb stuff Oikawa tried to pull to get her. The two had a good laugh before Y/n stopped and looked panicked. 

“Wait what about the police? Oikawa’s parents?” 

“Oh I am sure none of that will be a bother to us now Y/n.” 

“Oh? ” He just laughed back pulling her back into a kiss again. 

“We should head back to town.” 

“Are we going separate or?” 

“I can call them if you want to come pick up the car if you want to ride with me?” 

“You already know I do.” 

As the two were getting ready to leave, they both failed to notice the paper fall out of Tendou’s pocket. The paper now laid on the ground as the two sped off as the paper flipped around, completely blank on the ground.

____________________________________________________________

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[depressing-debbie]

can I request a modern dad eruri scenario where maybe their kid comes home past curfew trying to sneak in but they catch her or sumn? also I love ur writing!! :3

AW yes absolutely!! We all know I love some good dad eruri :)

I posted this on AO3 as well, but I’m going to write it out here instead of just giving a link to AO3 because I like this format better :)

Also it’s been a hot minute since I’ve written so hopefully this turned out alright!

Curfew

Rose shut the door as quietly as possible and lit her phone flashlight, careful not to turn on the lights and risk waking up her parents. She knew they were upstairs, having been asleep for hours already, Erwin snoring like a freight train as always. After all, she'd been careful to wait until they'd fallen asleep to sneak out, and there's no way they'd be awake yet to catch her sneaking back in.

Moving slowly and carefully, Rose approached the stairs all the way on the other side of the house. However, the minute she stepped foot in the living room, the light flicked on.

Erwin and Levi both sat on the couch, holding mugs and reading from the newspaper, and they both stared at Rose, who froze immediately mid-step.

"Morning." Erwin nodded in her direction.

Immediately, Rose began cycling through excuses in her mind. Had they heard the door? Maybe she could pretend she'd just come down for a late night snack? No, Levi could always tell when she was lying, it would never work.

"Where are you headed?"

"I was just, uh, getting some water."

"Mhm." Levi stared at her for another second with an eyebrow raised. "There's no water upstairs?" He'd very clearly seen through her panicked excuse, as always. She sighed, wondering why she even tried to lie.

Erwin set down the paper and gestured to the sofa. "Come sit down."

Rose plopped down on the couch and leaned her head on Levi's shoulder. "How long have you guys been awake?"

"About an hour. Apparently Erwin screwed something up with the fire alarm, because it went off this morning." Levi nudged Erwin in the side, and he chuckled. "And when you didn't come downstairs to check on the noise?"

"...you realized I wasn't home. Makes sense."

"So? Where were you?" Erwin spoke calmly, passing over his mug of coffee.

Rose took a sip, debating whether she should tell the truth. But, she came to the conclusion that she definitely couldn't get another lie past them. "I went to that concert in the park..."

Levi shook his head. "Oh come on, we talked about that. We told you it wasn't a good idea to be out by yourself this late."

"I know, I know, I just really wanted to go. And, I wasn't alone, I went with a friend."

"Still, two kids aren't safe out walking around at 3 AM. Trust me, love, you have to be careful."

Rose nodded. "I get that. But I'd been looking forward to this show for a year, and you two said no without even listening to me about it."

Erwin raised an eyebrow. "Does that mean you should go without telling us?"

"Well, no..."

"Exactly. There's no problem with questioning rules, we've always told you that we're not above questioning. But at the end of the day, we do still have to keep you safe, and you know that."

Rose nodded.

Levi sighed loudly before offering a solution. "How about this. Next time you've got something you wanna do this late, let us know, and one of us can come with you. I know it's embarrassing to have your dads trail you around, but even if we just wait in the car, I'd rather you go and be safe than sneak out and get into trouble." Rose grinned at the thought of the two of them at a concert, Erwin probably having to lift Levi up to even see the stage (and stop Levi from getting in a fight every time someone bumped into him). Sure, it's a bit embarrassing to have a parent chaperone at her age, but as far as parents go, hers are pretty cool. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"Thank you guys. I'm sorry, I won't sneak out again."

Levi ruffled her hair. "Good. Now, go get some sleep. We were gonna go get breakfast in the morning, and I'd rather you not fall asleep with your face in your plate. You can tell us all about the concert in the morning."

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 1] 

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; masturbation, daddy!kink. Hello! WELCOME TO CHERRY BOMB! Introductory chapter, so it might be a ‘lil slow to start. 🥰💕 Also just wanna say thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for Cherry Bomb! 💕 And also! The formatting of this might be a little different and seem longer, so excuse me for a bit as I figure out the best formatting for this as we go! 😅 If you haven’t already read the drabble this starts after, you can read it right here! You don’t necessarily have to, but it might not make complete sense if you don’t so if you have time, please start there~! 💕 yeehaw!

chapters; 1/?

“Hi dom.cheol!

I just wanted to thank you for your constant support for me~ I’d be nowhere without you~! I’ve been thinking it over and I know I don’t really do private shows or anything… but I would really be interested in doing one for you, free of charge for my biggest supporter! If you’re interested, I’d love to hear back from you! I’m free right now actually, maybe we can even cam and get to know each other better? ;) Hope to hear from you soon! xx cherry_clouds”

Seungcheol can hear his heart pounding in his ears and his fingers going numb when he looks over your message for what has to be the sixth or seventh time now.

He figures he needs to say something but he doesn’t know what; only the sounds of his own screams filling his head as he reads the message again to make sure he’s not dreaming.

“Fuck! Fuck! What do I even say to this?!” He panics, raking his fingers through his hair. Checking the clock, it’s already been ten minutes since you sent the message and he didn’t want to keep you waiting too long for a response but he really didn’t even know what to say.

Seungcheol groans, palms slamming onto the keyboard without a second thought.

dom.cheol: aedeflkijl

cherry_clouds: oh! you’re alive!

“Shit!” He did not mean to send that keysmash.

dom.cheol: fuck, sorry i didn’t mean to send that

dom.cheol: my cat ran across the keyboard

Seungcheol doesn’t own a cat either.

cherry_clouds: aww! It’s okay! I love cats~ you should send me pics sometime! 🥰

A blush coats Seungcheol’s cheek; trying to not let the giddiness take over as he tries to keep his cool when talking to you. He cracks his knuckles, willing the nerves away to the best of his ability before he slips back into his ‘calm and collected’ online presence.

cherry_clouds: How’s your night? Did you enjoy the show~ 💖

dom.cheol: of course, sweetheart. you know i always enjoy watching and supporting you.

He leans back, a genuine smile on his face. Seungcheol spent most of his paychecks on gifts for you, whether it was monetary or clothing or toys for you to use during your shows. There were times when he wondered if this was the right thing to do, or if he was spending his money on something that wasn’t worth his time or energy. But he also couldn’t deny the happiness that he felt when he saw you using the gifts he’d sent or the shoutouts that you’d always give him.

Tonight had gone a little differently than he ever expected, but he didn’t mind.

cherry_clouds: ><;; i wouldn’t be where i am if it weren’t for you always supporting me… I’m really thankful!

You bite your lip, giggling as you sit on your bed. dom.cheol seemed like a really nice person when he’d comment on your cam shows and you were hoping that he would be the exact same in private, which is why you finally gathered all the courage to ask him if he wanted a private show. 

There were a lot of risks you took with doing cam shows which you knew when you first started. You didn’t hide your face and even though you’d set up a different address for your mail and gifts, it didn’t stop people from sending you weird things as well. You also had your fair share of people who weren’t very kind and people who tried to get you to do things you weren’t comfortable with, but dom.cheol was always someone in the chat who always made you feel safe.

cherry_clouds: oh! About the private show… were you up for it tonight?

dom.cheol: can i ask for something different? I promise it won’t be something weird.

You quirk a brow, fingers hovering over your keyboard. In all honesty, there were only a few things you really knew about dom.cheol. You knew ‘cheol’ was part of his name because of his username and because he always sent gifts under ‘cheol’ and that he was somewhere in his 20’s. But other than that, you were completely in the dark about anything else about him. You were taking a really big risk by even offering him a private show; you just wished that it was the right decision.

cherry_clouds: um… what did you have in mind?

Seungcheol swallows the lump in his throat, nervousness eating him up again in an instant. He knew that there were boundaries he couldn’t cross and he knew that there was only so much the two of you knew about each other so he wasn’t sure if he was crossing any sort of boundary by asking for favors.

dom.cheol: i mean, you’re probably tired so i didn’t want to force you to do a show for me… i thought maybe we could do a voice call? And just talk for a little bit.

cherry_clouds: oh! Are you sure? I’m fine with that but only if you are!

He bites his knuckles, screaming quietly at how cute and caring you were towards him, even when you contacted him first.

dom.cheol: yeah, of course! I just… i don't want you to be tired. And I would enjoy talking to you if that’s okay.

cherry_clouds: I’d like that too! Okay, let me just get all set up and put some stuff away and i’ll call you, okay? Don’t leave! hehe~ 🥰

dom.cheol: take your time, sweetheart. :)

You nod, although he can’t see it. 

Gathering your things and tugging the sheets off your bed, you quickly get cleaned up, tossing your dirty sheets in a pile to be washed along with your toys. You didn’t want to keep him waiting too long and figured you’d deal with it later instead.

It takes you about fifteen minutes to get cleaned up, tossing on a big shirt and panties as you hop back onto your bed with your laptop and clean bed sheets.

cherry_clouds: okay~ i’m ready!

dom.cheol: ready when you are ;)

You locate the call button, nervously pressing it and watching as the call attempts to connect. He answers it on the third ring, a deep voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

It shocks you for a second, a shiver running up your spine with how deep his voice seemed to be. “H--hello? dom.cheol?” There’s a deep chuckle on the other end and you can almost visualize the smirk on his face.

“That’s me, sweetheart. But you can call me Seungcheol. I feel that’s easier on the mouth, hmm?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, unsure. You weren’t really comfortable with giving him your real name just yet and most often than not, your viewers just called you ‘cherry’ or cute pet names which you preferred.

“Sweetheart, don’t worry about giving me your name. I know that’s private, so don’t feel pressured.”

His gentle voice sends your heart fluttering, a shy smile on your lips at his words. “O-okay, sorry I just… you know how it is…” You trail off, twirling a piece of hair around your finger.

“I know and I’m really thankful you gave me this opportunity. It’s nice getting to talk to you like this.”

“Mm, y’know your voice is really deep, Seungcheol! It’s really hot~”

Giggling, you lean up against your pillows, placing your laptop next to you as you lie down. “Oh? What did you imagine when you thought of me, baby?” The drawl in his voice has thrums of arousal pooling in your lower abdomen; thighs rubbing together at the simple question. “Umm.. I dunno… I just… you mentioned being in your twenties before so… I’m just getting used to putting a voice to the name I guess~” His laugher pours through your speakers and you can’t help but fall deeper in love with his voice.

“You didn’t think I was some forty year old pervert, did you?”

This time it’s your turn to giggle, jokingly rolling your eyes at the ceiling. “No, never. And anyway, your taste in lingerie was too good. Which by the way, all of my favorite sets are the ones you’ve sent me!”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I like to think I’m a ‘lil fashionable.”

“Oh? Can you tell me more about you? I like hearing you talk~”

Seungcheol hums on the other end, pausing to think about what he should tell you.

On most days, he worked at his local roller-skating rink and as boring as it was, it paid extremely well. Then again, that was mostly because nobody really wanted to work there so his boss paid him overtime to keep him there; not that he minded.

The only problem was that it wasn’t exactly a cool or intriguing story to tell; to him at least.

“Hmm, what should I tell you… I don’t exactly work anywhere fancy. But I will say, it pays well. So well that I can spoil you with gifts and donations without a problem. Which, thank you, for always using my gifts.” He pauses.

“By the way, can I ask you a question?” Seungcheol clenches his jaw; it was now or never.

“Mm? Sure~”

“Those things you said about me… That sometimes you pretend it’s my cock when you play with the toys I get you and you wanting me to cum inside your tight ‘lil pussy… Do you really think those things?” Seungcheol’s voice drops an octave and you feel yourself clench around nothingness at the sudden desire to get fucked by this man you’d only just started speaking to. 

“I---Y-yes… I have… I m-mean, I don’t know what you look like but--but I just… S-sometimes it’s hard to get off so I have to mentally visualize something…” You trail off, your hand already running down your torso before you start rubbing yourself over your panties. “Sometimes I imagine that you have really big hands when you’re guiding me down onto your cock... Or when they’re wrapped around my throat...” 

“Oh? So now that you’ve heard my voice, will you think about it when you’re thinking of my cock fucking your cunt? Hmm? Or when I’m telling you to cum and get my cock nice and wet?” You can hear the cockiness in his voice just as you slide your panties to the side, fingertips sliding through your wet folds.

“I--mmh, uh, y-yeah…”

“Sweetheart, are you touching yourself?”

You moan loudly, body already sensitive from the night’s previous activities but you can’t stop your fingers from rubbing circles around your clit. “Y-yeah, ngh, ‘m sorry, it’s just--you sound so good, ‘Cheol~ I like… listening to you talk dirty to me… It’s different seeing you type it out but god, it sounds so good when it’s your actual voice... I can’t imagine how handsome you are to match...”

If Seungcheol could do backflips right now, he would, but he keeps his calm, taking a deep breath before he continues. “Yeah? Do you like it when daddy tells you what to do? Hmm? Do you like when daddy spoils you rotten? Buys you toys that keep your pussy nice and filled?”

“F--fuck, yes, daddy! Please!” You mewl, toes curling against the sheets as you slip in a single digit into your throbbing pussy. “Do you already have your fingers inside that tight cunt of yours?” You moan in response, nodding at the air as your eyes flutter shut.

“I want you to add another finger, sweetheart. I know you can take it. You must be so sensitive from earlier, huh? And yet here you are, fingering yourself to the sound of my voice.” There’s an airy chuckle at the end that you commit to memory; the sound fueling your wet dreams of Seungcheol being ruthless in his punishments and the deep and dark chuckles that would flood your ears.

But you listen, adding another finger as you scissor them inside of you. The stretch feels good, but you can’t help but imagine how big Seungcheol’s cock really was.

The call is quiet for a few minutes; the sound of your moans and wetness being the only thing Seungcheol can hear. The adrenaline rushes through his veins and he doesn’t even care about the fact he’s already hard; just wanting you to get off on his voice before he deals with himself later.

“Bet you’re thinking about my cock now, huh? I bet I could get you to cum just from sitting on it, just like you said. Fuck, I bet you’d look so good riding me. Or maybe you’d like to sit on my face? Cum on my tongue first and then cum on my cock. And I’d let you have it all.”

You whine at his words, feeling the pleasure building up in your body insanely fast at Seungcheol’s filthy promises. “Yes, god, I want all of it, daddy, please let me cum!”

“Okay, princess, why don’t you touch your ‘lil clit for me. I know it’s not the same but pretend it’s my tongue on your clit and my fingers deep inside your pussy. I want you to cum on my tongue, let me taste how sweet you are.”

You thrust your fingers into you faster, thumb on your clit as garbled moans and broken cries of Seungcheol’s name spill from your lips.

“I’m cumming, f--fuck, daddy, I’m cumming!” You cry, back bowing off the sheets as Seungcheol praises you over the call; his voice music to your ears in the midst of your orgasm.

Seungcheol’s toes curl against his carpeted floor, heart pounding in his ears when he hears his own name rolling off of your tongue. I could get used to that, he thinks. But he quickly brushes the thoughts away, grounding himself again. Okay, but I shouldn’t ‘cause this was a one time thing.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“Mmhmm… y-yeah…”

Your airy breaths pour out of his speakers as he waits for you to come down from your high.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry Seungcheol I--I didn’t… um, I wasn’t expecting that… I mean I was but--but not like that?” You finish with a breathy laugh, sliding your sticky fingers from between your legs as you wipe them on your shirt.

“S’okay, me neither, I feel like I didn’t tell you much about me.” He laughs, running his fingers through his hair.

“Mmm… I mean… I--I wouldn’t mind… talking again? I liked hearing your voice. And maybe next time we can actually talk and not… y’know…” You trail off, staring at the ceiling. 

If you weren’t tired from your show, you were definitely tired now; eyes threatening to slide shut from the sleepiness. 

“Oh... a next time? I don’t want you to feel pressured into talking to me, sweetheart.” Seungcheol offers. His mind is going a mile a minute at the prospect of a next time but he knows he can’t make you do anything, nor did he want to. 

“Hmm... well, how about this! Why don’t you... send me a message with your real phone number and---and a picture of yourself! And then I’ll contact you so you don’t feel like you’re botherin’ me or something.” You feel the adrenaline rushing through your body, ears and face hot now that you’d asked for his personal info. 

“I--I can do that.” 

The two of you end the call before you can fall asleep on it; wishing each other a good night before you hang up. Seungcheol felt weird about not tipping you or paying you for the call, but you had insisted he didn't need to, since you were the one who offered at first. 

You lay in bed, catching your breath and thinking about Seungcheol and how that call went nothing like you ever expected. 

Not that you hated it, in fact, you only wanted to know more about him.

Seungcheol sends you a message minutes later, your inbox pinging on the screen as you lean over to open the message. 

The first thing you see is his phone number; a simple ‘sweet dreams. ;)’ attached. But the next thing you see is the photo attachment, which you click as quickly as you can.

You drool. You can’t help it, but you do. 

His hard cock the first thing you notice about the photo. The next thing are the veins on his hands and the way his hand looks small wrapped around his thick cock. You feel like your throat is as dry as a desert but your eyes travel up; heart beating even quicker when you see his toned torso that leads up to his extremely handsome face and silvery-blue hair.

“Holy shit.” 

Seungcheol was definitely not a forty year old pervert. 

[smaidjor]

i know they're losing (chapter 3)

Hello everyone! Welcome back to your favorite(/j) hot mess of a fic. Sorry this chapter took a little longer to post, I thought I'd give you all a bit of time to recover from that last one. Plus, I was working on Scott's POV of this (which will be posted soon, don't worry!) Anyways, enjoy the fic!

(Once again obligatory disclaimer this is characters not people, don't ship real people, etc.)

(Also a disclaimer that I am not a medical professional and any medicine portrayed in this fic is likely inaccurate. Do not follow any medical procedures used in this fic, as I did absolutely 0 research to confirm any of this.)

Chapter Title: I turn at last to paths that lead home

Chapter Wordcount: 3214

Content warnings: blood, canon-typical violence

AO3 Link

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Actual fic under the cut:

The next morning dawns bright, sunny, and with a looming sense of unease that Jimmy can’t seem to shake. Scott’s ring feels heavy on his finger despite the resolution they reached yesterday, and he shifts anxiously as he waits for his husband to wake up. The sun’s well over the horizon and Scott still isn’t up, which only makes him more anxious. Usually, Scott’s an early riser. Today, though, he’s sleeping like the dead, and the scar on his throat doesn’t help the effect. Something is wrong. Jimmy doesn’t know how or why he knows it, but something is wrong and why is Scott still sleeping?

Finally, Jimmy can’t take it any longer. “Scott? Scott, wake up,” he whispers.

Nothing.

“Scott! Wake up!”

His husband is still firmly unconscious, and Jimmy’s heart leaps into his throat as he begs one more time. “Scott? Please?”

Scott rolls over and blinks at him, thank god, his voice coming out thick with sleep. “Five more minutes, darling.”

“I think something’s wrong,” Jimmy urges. “It feels wrong. Really wrong.”

That gets his love to sit up, rubbing at his eyes. There are still dark circles visible under them, and Jimmy gets a rush of guilt for waking him. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s alright, go back to sleep.”

“No, no, I trust your gut.” Scott gets out of bed with only a slight stumble, sliding on his cloak in one graceful movement. “Let’s go look, and if it’s nothing then I’ll sleep more, okay?”

Jimmy nods, hurrying after him. “I have a really terrible feeling, Scott. Be careful, please.”

“I should be telling that to you.”

“Hey, I’ve gotten more careful!”

Scott laughs, looking more alive than he has in months, but quickly sobers again as they reach the front door. “You’re right, Jimmy. Something isn’t right.”

“I know, it feels awful!”

“Mhm.” Scott snatches up a frankly ridiculous axe from nearby, a shimmering pink monstrosity that’s twice the size of Jimmy’s head. “Stay behind me, just in case.”

The door creaks as it swings open, and the source of Jimmy’s unease becomes immediately clear.

Across the valley is the demon, standing next to Scott’s enchanting tower.

“That’s the demon!” Jimmy hisses, once he gets his racing heart under control. “Right there by the tower!”

Scott looks like someone just killed a cat in front of him, an odd sort of heartbreak flashing across his face before it’s replaced with determination. “That?”

“Yes!”

“Right. Okay. Jimmy, I need you to listen to exactly what I say right now. If I say get down, you get down. If I say run, you run and don’t look back no matter what you hear. Can you do that?”

Jimmy looks at the elf who very nearly broke his heart, and chooses to put that heart right back in Scott’s hands. “I trust you. If you say run, I’ll run.”

“Alright. Give me your engagement ring.”

“Wh-”

“Trust me. Please.”

Jimmy hands it over.

Scott slides it onto his finger. His hands are a little smaller than Jimmy’s, and it only fits on his right middle finger. Which would normally be cute, but right now Jimmy is just terrified. “Okay, Jimmy. I’m about to go out the front door, and when I do, I need you to go out the side door over there and run for the stables. When you get there, roll in the mud and then run for the village. Speed over stealth, corrupted elves track by smell and sound rather than sight.”

Jimmy nods.

“From there,” Scott continues, “I need you to track down an elf called Gilnar and tell them to lock down the kingdom and warn everyone of the danger. I also need you to tell them that Lord Smajor orders them to protect you.”

“What about you? Will you be okay?”

“I will, I promise.”

Jimmy knows Scott’s lying because Scott could never properly lie, not when it’s to Jimmy. He always looks away, no matter how steady his voice stays. Jimmy says nothing about it, but he grabs a spare sword and prays he’ll be quick enough to save Scott if it all goes downhill.

Scott hefts the axe. “Ready?”

Jimmy isn’t, but he nods. “Ready.”

Scott steps out the door, calling out something in some elven language that sounds like a challenge. At the same time, Jimmy bolts out the side door, sprinting for a low building which he thinks is the barn.

Somehow, he gets there without incident, and he throws himself into the mud without hesitation. The farrier gives him a deeply weird look, which Jimmy ignores in favor of sprinting for the village. The altitude means he’s out of breath by the time he gets there, hurrying inside the walls. The elves give him strange looks, a few seeming rather judgemental. Jimmy tries not to flush, remembering Scott’s instructions.

“Excuse me?” He asks the nearest elf. “I’m looking for uh, Gilnar?”

They stare him down, raising a single eyebrow. “For what reason?”

“Scott- Lord Smajor sent me.”

In the background, there’s a cry of pain, which thankfully sounds demonic rather than elven.

“Gilnar should be that way.”

“Thank you, uh, gentleperson!” Jimmy hurries that way, stopping another villager. “Are you Gilnar?”

The look he gets is even stranger. “Do I look like a captain of the guard to you? No. What do you want Gilnar for anyways?”

“Scott told me to find them.”

“Then that’s them over there,” the elf tells him, pointing out an incredibly short elf with neatly plaited brown hair.

“Thank you!”

Gilnar looks up at his approach, seemingly unbothered by the mud. “Lord Codfather, right? Scott sent ya?”

“He said to tell you to lock down the kingdom,” Jimmy reports faithfully. “He also said you should protect me, or something like that, but I don’t really need- I’ll be fine is the point.”

“Riiiiight. Calros!”

A tall elf appears behind them.

“Protect the codfather, Lord Scott’d be a bit put out if he died, I think. Alqualoth!” Another elf appears. “I need you to help me get everythin’ locked down.” With that, Gilnar hurries away, a few elves falling into formation behind them.

“So….this is awkward,” Calros, the tall elf, offers.

Jimmy ignores them in favor of running to the edge of the cliff the village is built on, trying to catch a glimpse of Scott. He’s rewarded only with the sight of his husband dueling a demon, which isn’t exactly what anyone wants to see at 8 o’clock in the morning. At least Scott doesn’t seem to be entirely overwhelmed, but the demon has far too much of the upper hand for Jimmy’s comfort.

“Whoa, whoa, let a girl catch up,” Calros yelps. She doesn’t seem very dignified for an elf, but Jimmy’s not very dignified for a human, so he understands. “So, uh...how’s Codland?”

Unfortunately for Calros and her well-meaning questions, at that moment, Scott starts screaming. It takes a moment for Jimmy to even register the sound as Scott’s voice; he’s never heard Scott scream before. It’s a high, broken noise, pure pain in every note as the demon pins Scott to the mountainside. Jimmy doesn’t think there’s anything he wouldn’t give to never have to hear that noise again, which is why he jumps the wall at the edge of the village.

“No, wait!” Calros yells.

Jimmy’s already gone, landing awkwardly on the other side. He hardly feels the pain of what’s surely a twisted ankle, sprinting for the scene of the fight. The sword flies into his hand, the gleam of enchantment shimmering bright. He doesn’t have a single second to think about what he’s doing as he opens his mouth to shout. “Hey, demon thing! Yeah, you! You’re ugly! And you probably smell bad!”

The being turns its head in a way that’s far too human for Jimmy’s comfort, and thank god, Scott stops screaming. “What did you say to me?” It hisses.

Jimmy’s heart is beating in his throat, palms sweaty as he scrapes together the few remaining bits of his courage. “I said you’re ugly! And you suck! Leave my husband alone!”

The demon loosens their hold, rage twisting their smile into something even more terrifying, and Scott backhands them across the face, kicking his way free. Jimmy watches as he struggles to his feet, the ring gleaming on his hand.

Scott cries something in some elven tongue, and the demon hisses.

He calls out another word, a command, and the ring glows with a light of its own as the demon is forced back, inch by inch. Finally, it flies backwards and vanishes entirely.

Scott sinks to his knees, cradling the hand with the ring on it, and Jimmy breaks into a run again.

“Scott! Scott!”

His husband looks up at him with haunted eyes, face bruised and battered, a little blood trickling down his brow. His teeth are bared, just a little sharp, and there’s something desperate about the way he whispers Jimmy’s name, his voice hoarse from screaming.

Jimmy kneels by him quickly, looking for any major injuries. “What’s wrong? Where- what’s hurt? I’ll fix it, I promise, I-” he’s cut off by Scott yanking him into a desperate hug, burying his face in Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Oh,” Jimmy says weakly. He wraps his arms around Scott in return, running a soothing hand up and down Scott’s back as he feels the elf tremble. “It’s alright, Scott, we’re alright.”

“Jimmy,” Scott says again. “Jimmy, I can’t.”

“I-”

“I want it to be over. I don’t want elves or nations or politics. I just want you.”

“I know, I know,” Jimmy soothes.

‘Why does it have to be me? It wasn’t supposed to be! It wasn’t supposed to be me!” Scott sounds almost angry, but the words quickly dissolve into incoherent sobs and fragments of sentences. “I- please- shouldn’t have- Jimmy. Jimmy.” He repeats Jimmy’s name over and over, hands clutching the fabric of Jimmy’s shirt, and Jimmy has never felt so helpless. All he can do is whisper empty comforts, kissing the top of Scott’s head and holding him close.

Elves have begun to surround them, varying looks of concern or disgust on their faces. Jimmy glares up at all of them, daring them to say something.

“Uh, milord?” Gilnar starts, and that’s the final straw.

“Give him a goddamn minute!” Jimmy snaps, rage bubbling up under his skin. “He just fought a demon for all of you, let the man rest! I know you’re all elves and you’re all- all elegant and composed or whatever, but you can’t expect someone to be perfect! We’re all human, you know!”

One of the elves gives him a look of disdain. “You are human, Codfather. We are not. Lord Smajor knew the responsibilities and difficulties of ruling.”

“He’s too young for this,” Jimmy thinks he hears someone mutter, but he’s too angry to bother paying attention.

“I- well I don’t think anyone could have expected a demon! And probably even less people’d be willing to fight one! Scott’s one of the bravest, kindest, smartest people I know, so lay off him, will you?”

“You know nothing of the affairs of elves,” the same elf sniffs.

Jimmy’s about to open his mouth and inform them that he knows about the affairs of being a decent person, for goodness sake, but he’s cut off by Scott raising his head, his sobs subsiding into ragged breathing. “It’s fine, Jimmy. They are correct, I do have responsibilities.”

“They can’t expect you to be perfect,” Jimmy argues, but there’s no dissuading Scott as he staggers to his feet.

“Gilnar, get the village out of lockdown and make sure people are aware of the threat of Xornoth. Celebear, search the library for any books on corruption of elves, and Lauriel, translate any you find that are not Sindarin into it. Elder council, I need research done on any rings of power that are strong enough to counteract Vilya to that degree, that will narrow down what Xornoth has. Now, the Codfather and I need to negotiate wool and fish trades,” Scott adds, grabbing Jimmy’s hand. Jimmy yelps, startled, as Scott drags him off with inhuman strength.

They make it up the hill and into Scott’s house before Scott slumps, collapsing into one of the kitchen chairs. “Well, fuck me to the End and back,” he groans.

“Are they always like that?” Jimmy asks, worried.

“Pretty much. Gilnar’s okay, just tough as shit, and so are Celebear and Lauriel, but...I wasn’t- well, I wasn’t meant to inherit Rivendell, and the Council of Elders takes every opportunity to remind me of that fact.”

“Oh. Who’s Xornoth?”

Scott laughs, a bitter, exhausted sound. “My twin, also known as the demon that’s been terrorizing you.”

At first, Jimmy thinks he’s misheard. “What?”

“My twin. My older sibling. The person who was supposed to inherit the throne of the elves.”

“What?”

Scott sighs. “Let me start from the beginning. My parents were two elven monarchs, one of the Sindar, and one of the Noldor. With other bloodlines mixed in, but the Sindar and Noldor is the important bit since those two groups haven’t always gotten along. Somewhere around fifty-five years ago, they started trying for kids. What they didn’t expect was that Xornoth and I are identical twins, only the fifth set of elven twins ever recorded.”

“Whoa.”

“Mhm. Xornoth was- is- technically the older one, who was always set to inherit the throne of the elves and unite our divided people. They were compared to Elrond, wise and powerful leader of another land named Rivendell far in the past, and I was Elros, his twin. Impulsive, snarky, human.” Scott closes his eyes, looking as if it pains him to talk about this. “Our parents died when we were both quite young, and we were brought up expecting Xornoth to take the throne as soon as they came of age. I spent my time hanging out with mortals, instead, getting involved in things like mcc and 3rd life.”

“Ohhh,” Jimmy says intelligently.

Scott nods tensely. “When I was the elven equivalent of seventeen or so, Xornoth gave me a ring. This ring, specifically,” he says, tapping Jimmy’s engagement ring. “Vilya, an elven ring of power. They told me to leave Rivendell and not return.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know at the time, but they were being corrupted by a ring of their own, not to mention their own desire for power.” Scott’s voice shakes a little, and Jimmy takes his hand in comfort. “I returned after coming of age while away to find that Xornoth had fled and I was now the heir of Rivendell. Which absolutely no one wanted.”

“Why not? You’re amazing!” Jimmy protests.

“Remember when I told you that I’m not a very elven elf? That. I’m too human for their tastes, spend too much of my time with humans.”

“Well, I think you’re wonderful.”

Scott squeezes his hand tight, a faint, fond smile creeping onto his face. “Thank you, Jimmy. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jimmy replies, and then something Scott said catches up with him. “Wait. Scott?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Did you give me an elven ring of power for an engagement ring?”

“….Maybe.”

Jimmy’s torn between laughter and outrage. “Me! You gave me, little old Jimmy Solidarity, an elven ring of power?”

“You’re the most precious thing in my life. I gave you everything I could offer.”

Jimmy flushes immediately, feeling his cheeks heat with the compliment. It’s not fair that Scott can make him lose all his remaining braincells with just a simple sentence, it really isn’t! “Stop that!”

“Stop what?” Scott asks innocently.

“Saying that stuff and giving me that look, you know what I mean! That soft one that- that makes me all blushy and stuttery!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s smirking. He definitely knows exactly what he’s doing, and Jimmy would hate him for it if he was even capable of hating Scott.

“I’m trying to scold you for giving me a ring of power that’s super important, stop- stop flirting, for goodness sake!”

“You’re hot when you’re flustered, though.” The charming words would be a lot more effective if Scott didn’t also choose that moment to try and wipe the blood off his forehead, only succeeding in smearing blood everywhere and reminding Jimmy to be worried about him.

“Let me get that,” Jimmy offers, looking around for a rag. Scott patiently lets him fuss, and Jimmy dabs at the cut with a wet rag and bandages it carefully. He moves on to cleaning out smaller cuts and scrapes, then the bruises, handing Scott some ice to put on the largest ones. Even then, he’s not fully satisfied until he makes Scott count backward from 100 to prove he hasn’t hit his head too hard.

“Ninety-two, ninety-one, I swear I’m fine, Jimmy, ninety, eighty-nine, eighty-eight, eighty-seven, I literally explained elven rings of power to you, eighty-six, eight-five, can I stop counting now?”

“No.”

“Jimmyyyyyyyy,” Scott whines.

“Just a bit more? For me?” It’s a dirty trick, but Jimmy gives him the puppy dog eyes that he knows Scott can’t say no to.

He’s rewarded with a long-suffering sigh and “Fine. Eighty-four, eighty-three, eighty-two…”

Jimmy makes him count all the way down to seventy and then multiply together thirteen and twelve before he’s satisfied, ignoring Scott’s complaining about having to do math so early in the morning.

“I can’t believe my own husband made me do math.”

Jimmy laughs and bops him on the nose. “I’ll make breakfast to make up for it?”

“You better!” Scott says, but he’s smiling too.

Jimmy makes them both pancakes, firmly ignoring the lingering fear from the demon attack, not to mention all the revelations from this morning. Those are problems for future Jimmy. Present Jimmy is going to scold his husband for sneaking bits of pancake batter (“It doesn’t even taste good, Scott!”) and drink hot chocolate in a beautiful little kitchen with the love of his life. None of that demon nonsense, no thank you. Just hot chocolate and pancakes and the sound of Scott’s laughter as he teases Jimmy about smelling like fish. Which is a perfectly fine smell, thank you very much, Scott, why are you laughing?

Every so often, he pauses and admires the bracelet that’s still on his wrist, running his fingers over the elegantly shaped flowers. This must have taken Scott so long to make, and he did it all for Jimmy. He gave Jimmy a ring of power, for goodness sake! Jimmy doesn’t think he’ll ever be over the thrill of how it feels to be so loved and to know it, too. To know Scott loved him back in 3rd life and loves him now and will love him for the rest of Jimmy’s mortal lifespan and beyond. He can’t quite wrap his head around it, honestly, but it’s not a bad thing, not at all. How could having Scott in his life ever be a bad thing? He thinks- knows, as well as he knows his own self- that whatever happens next, he and Scott can face it together.

[justanotherblonde23]

When Marcus Met the Doctor

Author’s Note: Hey there Internet friends! So my buddy @autumnleaves1991-blog had asked me for a follow up on my original Marcus Moreno story. She was wondering how Marcus met the future Dr. Moreno. It was in an ask, but I can’t find it to save my life. I’m posting this on my iPad because my laptop isn’t playing nicely today, so I apologize if the format seems a little odd. I’m still learning! I gave the reader a last name and a nickname so I didn’t have to use y/n but I didn’t give any descriptions about physical appearance, so I hope you’ll be able to see yourself here. Please let me know what you think, I hope you enjoy - Kat

Warnings: swearing, single parenthood

Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog @madness-roses @bisexual-space-slut @dindjarindiaries @frannyzooey @zeldasayer @cinewhore @revolution-starter @mrschiltoncat @softpedropascal @paniclana @jollyrancher87 @hdlynnslibrary @maybege @corrupt-fvcker @cyaredindjarin @scribbledghost @woakiees

Marcus was at his wit’s end. He’d been a single dad for all of three weeks after his wife decided that she wasn’t invested in being a mother or having a spouse that occasionally saved the world. What was he supposed to do with a kid that just turned 7, a two-month-old baby who started showing signs of powers, and a full-time job as one of the Heroics? He’d been up all night with the baby, Jules, because every time she woke up, she’d inadvertently started throwing things around the room...with her mind.

He had been around children with powers before, sure, but he had never encountered a child this young having powers begin to develop. Hell, his oldest, Missy, hadn’t even had her powers show up yet. He knew that each child was different, but this was way out of his league. He knew how to handle children; he loved children, especially his children. A powerful infant was not in his job description. He needed outside assistance, and he needed it yesterday.

It was a blustery Saturday, so he bundled himself and the kids up, making his way to Heroics HQ. There had to be someone there that could help. Walking into HQ was like walking into a completely different world. Uniquely powered individuals in multicolored hero outfits, scientists in lab coats, executives in suits, and a myriad of others all spent their time hustling and bustling through the gigantic building. In the middle of all this was Marcus, a dad in jeans, a grey V-neck, converse, and a leather jacket holding a bundled up super powered baby in the crook of his arm, with his hand gripping the small hand of his inquisitive little girl. He sighed, making his way to the building’s science and medical wing, trying to find the proper hallway and office number.

Finally, he found it, office 22A, the person who hopefully had the answers he needed for baby Jules. He knocked; he felt awkward just rushing in even though technically had an appointment. He hadn’t expected the door to be opened by the most beautiful woman that he’d ever laid eyes on. She smiled kindly, gesturing for him to enter. He couldn’t help but take in her appearance as he guided himself and Missy into the office. She was dressed professionally, wearing a pencil skirt, blouse, and heels topped with a lab coat, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her eyes shone with both care and enthusiasm; a soft smile graced her lips. He watched as she grabbed Missy’s hand, setting her up with toys in a corner filled with all sorts of things children loved. She was so gentle with the little girl, giving all of her attention to the child. Once Missy was situated and happily playing quietly, the woman turned her attention back to Marcus and Jules. She said something to him, but Marcus just stood there, blinking, a mixture of exhaustion and admiration rendering him speechless.

“Mr. Moreno?” a gentle voice inquired, her hand on his bicep snapping him out of his reverie.

Marcus blinked, shaking his head, willing himself to be in the present. “I’m so sorry, I’m completely worn out. Between work, the baby, and Missy, I’m just barely pulling through on my own. You can call me Marcus, by the way, Mr. Moreno just seems so formal.”

The kind smile was back as she led him to a couch at the back of the office, where they both sat down and got comfortable.

“So, Marcus, I hear that you are here to see me about your little one here. My name is Dr. Johnson, but mostly everyone around here calls me Iris. Please tell me what’s going on with the baby, and I can see what I can do for you.” She sounded so confident in her ability to assist him, not even knowing what the problem was yet.

“Iris? Is that your name?” Marcus accidentally wondered aloud.

The responding light laugh that Dr. Johnson gave him sounded like a perfect melody. “No, that’s not my name, just a nickname. One of my secondary abilities is a bit of telekinesis. When I activate that or my other abilities, my eyes turn well the color of irises, and the name just stuck.”

He nodded, absorbing the information while rocking Jules in his arms. She was dozing at the moment since this would ideally be her naptime. He studied her face, looking for what, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t even know where to begin, how to ask for something he wasn’t sure there was a solution for. It hit him then how young she was. How was someone so young supposed to help him?

“I sense some hesitation in you. If you have questions or concerns, I’m happy to address them. I want to be able to help you, but to do that, you also need to trust me.”

Marcus shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. He didn’t want to be rude or demanding, but this was his baby they were talking about here. It was his job to keep Jules safe, it was just him now, and he couldn’t stand the idea of her in any type of danger simply because he couldn’t figure out what to do about her powers.

Iris put her hand on his, causing him to look back at her again.

“Yes, I’m quite young, I just turned 28 last month, but that doesn’t make me any less qualified to help you and your baby girl. My greatest ability is my mind. I have nine doctorates, working on more as we speak, which doesn’t include my medical degrees. I am a doctor of pediatric medicine, as well as a surgeon for both children and adults. I’ve worked on most of the heroically enhanced beings that work here, you included, although you were unconscious at the time. I invent most of the tech that you and your fellow Heroics use every day. Those katana blades of yours, those are my work. As a father, I know that you’re going to be hesitant to allow anyone to help your daughter, especially someone who is young, like me. I assure you, Marcus, that my young age is made up for by my vast set of experiences. I would argue that I’m the best suited for this job out of anyone. Please, let me help you so that you can take care of your children to the best of your ability. Give me a chance here; I promise you won’t regret it.”

He had been expecting her anger at his hesitance, not her understanding. He was sure that he was about to be yelled at for doubting her. Instead, she calmly explained exactly who she was and why she was his best bet. Fuck, she was brilliant and willing to help. He needed to give her a chance and let her see this through, no matter how nervous he was.

“Iris, I apologize; I shouldn’t doubt you or your abilities. I’m pretty new at this single dad thing, and I’m just trying to take care of them the best I can. I’ve been doing mostly consultant work from home, but that’s only a temporary solution. I just-,” his voice broke, tears filling his eyes.

A tear dripped down his face, but the doctor caught it with her thumb, smoothing it away. She had tears in her own eyes, threatening to overflow. She enveloped him in as firm of a hug as she could with baby Jules still in his arms, letting him lay his head on her shoulder and permitting him to feel. All his sorrow, worries, and fears flowed out of him through his tears. Fingers carded through his hair, a hand rubbed soothing circles on his back, her words of comfort whispered in his ear. Marcus, you’re not alone. There are people who want to help. It’s okay, let it all out. He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but by the time he finished crying, he felt safe and cared for, something that he hadn’t felt in a while, not since far before his ex had left.

They spent the next half hour discussing what abilities Jules had exhibited so far, what Marcus’ concerns were, and what he needed to be a functional parent. He explained how the baby started showing signs of power less than a week after she was born, how she seemed to be able to move things with her mind, but that he wasn’t quite sure because, well, Jules was a baby and he was sure that she didn’t even realize she was doing it. He was worried because as time went on, the objects kept getting larger. Last night, somehow, she had moved the crib in front of the bedroom door when she woke up in the middle of the night for her bottle. He had ended up having to take the door off its hinges to even get into the room. Hearing his baby crying and not being able to get to her had scared him shitless. He’d ended up staying in the baby’s room all night to make sure nothing else happened.

As they talked, Jules had woken up and was beginning to fuss. Iris ended up taking the baby, giving her a bottle, and watching her abilities while still listening to Marcus. She was so good with little Jules, holding her, gently stroking her hair, whispering comforting words when she would get fussy. He saw books begin to float off the shelf in his peripheral vision, he got up to try and put them back, but Iris’ hand shot out, stopping him. She smiled up at him, raising a hand and pushing them back in place with her mind.

“I think I have something that will help.”

She stood up, still holding the baby, and went to her desk, grabbing a tiny silver cuff. She pressed a few buttons on the keyboard, bringing up various holograms all around the room. Marcus almost jumped out of his skin when she began to talk to an AI, sorting through her research until she found what she was looking for.

“This is my own design, it’s basically a bracelet that will contain Jules’ powers and abilities while she wears it. It’s waterproof, tamper resistant, and will only open with either your fingerprint or my own. As she grows, we’ll change the cuff size and lessen the suppression. When this little lady is old enough, the cuff will come off altogether and she will have full access to her abilities. The suppression will not cause her any harm or pain, I’ve made sure to try it on myself long term to be certain. This allows you to keep her safe without working yourself into exhaustion. We can meet a few times a month to assess her progress. This should help you all get into the groove of things, Marcus.”

He took the cuff, studying it, rolling it over in his hands. It felt like regular metal, nothing special. He titled it to see the inside. There were tiny sensors evenly spaced throughout and something that was blinking green. This was far beyond his paygrade as far as technology went. The fact that the woman in front of him invented this and was willing to use this to help ensure his baby’s safety was not lost on him. He was grateful that she had a solution, hopefully it would help.

“It won’t hurt her, right? I just want to make sure. Has this been studied long term? Are there any side effects?” he enquired, trying not to get too excited.

Iris shook her head as she lightly rocked Jules in her arms. “I’ve used this on myself, as well as some other children that have had their abilities show up a bit too early. I haven’t seen any drawbacks or side effects of the cuff so far, but I want to have you bring Jules in at least once every few weeks so that we can keep her closely monitored. You’ll also have my number, please feel free to contact me day or night if you have any concerns or if anything goes wrong. I’m here to help and it’s my main priority to make sure that this sweet girl can learn and grow safely, without the threat of her powers going awry. This problem is one that we can solve, Marcus.”

He nodded, her words were reassuring to be sure. Since he became a single father, he hadn’t really trusted anyone with the safety and wellbeing of his little girls besides himself. It was difficult to reach out and allow someone to help solve a problem when the one person he had trusted the most had shattered him. Iris was giving him a solution, she was asking for his trust in her and her science. He could do that for his kids, he had to.

Marcus handed her back the cuff, allowing her to delicately put it on Jules’ wrist. It didn’t even phase the baby one bit. She kept on as if nothing had changed at all. He let out the breath that he didn’t even know he had been holding. She seemed absolutely fine, content to be rocked in the good doctor’s arms. She handed her back to Marcus, allowing him to cradle his little one close.

The two adults scheduled baby Jules’ followup appointment for the next week so that they could see her progress and give Iris a chance to check the data and run some tests. They spoke for a few more minutes until Missy came up to get their attention.

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

Iris got down on Missy’s level so that she could look her in the eye. “You did so well today, Missy. Thank you so much for playing quietly while your daddy and I talked about your baby sister. I’m very proud of you.”

Missy broke out in a huge grin, throwing her arms around the doctor’s shoulders.

“Will we get to see you again? Can I come and play here more soon?”

Iris returned the hug, smiling fondly at the little girl. “Your sister has another appointment here next week and you are more than welcome to come and play in my office again. It was very nice to meet you. I think your daddy will be taking you down to the cafeteria here for some lunch, how does that sound?”

Missy nodded enthusiastically, grabbing her father’s free hand and tugging him along.

“Thank you so much, Iris, I really appreciate all the time you’ve given us today.”

“The pleasure is mine, Marcus, really. I’m here to help.”

There wasn’t much more to be said as Marcus was dragged by Missy out the door and down the hallway, chatting about what type of lunch they were going to eat. The doctor stood in the doorway, watching the little family leave, happy that she could be of assistance. She liked Marcus, he seemed to love his children a great deal and was a good man.

As they got in the elevator, Missy’s sweet voice said, “Daddy, I like that doctor lady, she’s so nice. I hope we get to see her more. She’s so pretty!”

Marcus had to agree with his daughter, he liked Iris, too. He felt a tug in his gut telling him that he should get to know her more, that she was someone truly special. He decided then and there that he would try to make that happen.

[topazy]

Silent bloom

Pairings: Finn Collins/reader

Warning: mentions vomiting blood.

Chapter: 1.10

"The Exodus ship?"

"Wait. Something is wrong."

"Clarke shouldn't be out here."

You nodded in agreement with Finn. Looking at the hazardous destruction in front of you, it wasn’t surprising to find there were no survivors. You know that, but a couple of kids back in camp had false hope that someone would have survived.

Raven turned to face you and Finn. "Her mom was on the ship. She's looking for answers. You want to help her. Find me the black box, hard drives, anything that will explain why this ship crashed."

Raven walked off to look among the rumble, while you looked around, concerned that you were being watched. "What’s wrong?"

What wasn’t wrong? Clarke was falling apart, Raven hated you, and Finn refused to talk to you. Now Bellamy was staring at you with a worried look on his face. "I don’t think we are the only ones out here. Think how loud that explosion was. No way were we the only ones who heard it."

Bellamy gulped down, and looked at the group behind him. "Stay sharp. Grounder retaliation for what happened on the bridge is coming, just a matter of when."

"Can you blame them?" Finn scoffed.

As Finn and Bellamy started bickering, you wondered off, not having the energy to listen to them. You walked past Clarke and gave her a sympathetic smile before spotting something interesting. It was a pink, smelly liquid. You stepped closer to it when the shouting stopped you.

"Daisy, stop!"

Raven rushed over to you, "is it rocket fuel?"

"Hydrazine," she replied. "Highly unstable in its non-solid form. If this stuff meets fire, we're all pink mist." Raven picked up a large stone and threw it into the liquid, causing it to make a small explosion. "We need to clear this area!"

"Okay, then." Bellamy stepped forward. "We move in formation, no straggling, weapons hot. We gotta get back before dark."

—

The walk back to camp was mostly in silence. The only occasional chatter was between Raven and Clarke. A sigh of relief passed your lips when you saw Monty running to meet you at the gates.

"What’s wrong?" You asked, noticing the expression on his face.

"Murphy, he’s back. He’s inside the drop-ship."

Bellamy, Clarke, and Finn rushed towards the drop-ship, while you and Raven stayed behind. The brunette was carrying samples from the crash site, while you just needed a moment. You pulled Monty into a hug, and squeezed him tightly. Pulling back, you smiled. The past couple of days have made you grateful for the people you care about still being alive.

As you walked towards the drop-ship, you could hear Bellamy’s voice getting louder. "Help us? We hung him. We banished him, and now we're gonna kill him. Get the hell out of my way."

Bellamy stared at you when he noticed you walking towards them. You expected him to say something, anything to explain why he wanted to kill Murphy. You shook your head in disappointment, "you can’t be serious? We don’t kill our own."

Clarke stepped beside you, "Finn and Daisy are right."

"Like hell they are," Bellamy snapped back. "Clarke, think about Charlotte."

"I am thinking about her, but what happened to Charlotte was as much our fault as his. He's not lying. His fingernails were torn off. They tortured him."

As Clarke spoke, you kneeled down to see for yourself. Unlike the others in the room, you felt sorry for Murphy. He didn’t deserve to be tortured. His fingernails had been pulled off. How cruel. To your surprise, Murphy spoke to you in a low voice, "I-I never tried to hurt you."

"I know," you sighed. "I was Charlotte."

Being so focused on Murphy, you nearly missed the conversation happening behind you. "You and the Grounders should compare notes."

Rolling your eyes, you stood up again. "Not now Finn, we don’t have time for this. The grounders are coming and arguing among ourselves is exactly what they want." You ignored the glare Finn shot at you. "I’m going for a walk. You guys are giving me a headache. Murphy better be alive when I get back."

—

"You know what? This is my tent, okay? Bellamy gave it to me, and if you have a problem with that, maybe you should find somewhere else to sleep."

The venom in Jasper's voice took you by surprise. You had never heard him argue with anyone before, let alone his best friend.

"Maybe I should."

You cleared your throat to alert them to your presence, before opening the flaps of the tent. "Hi guys, either of you care to join me for a walk."

Monty was still staring at Jasper, "I will."

"Good."

—

You and Monty walked around camp four times before he told you what the argument with Jasper was about, and truthfully, you were pissed. Jasper was changing and not for the better. You had a theory that his referring to Harper as' ‘low hanging fruit’ offended Monty.

"Is Finn talking to you yet?"

You shake your head, "nope. I did it to protect him and Clarke, but he didn’t want to hear it."

"Well... maybe it’s for the best Daze. I mean, he slept with you while still dating Raven." You stopped walking and faced him. Monty was one of your closest friends and would never tell you anything out of badness. "I just mean you deserve better Daisy. He’s still with Raven, and flirts with Clarke. The distance might do you some good."

You smiled, "you're so sweet, you know that? I hope the girls here get over Jasper acting like a jackass and realise who the real hero is."

Monty opened his but froze and pointed at your head. "Daisy your ear, it’s bleeding!"

You cupped your ear and felt the warm liquid against your palm. Oh shit.

"Do you still have a headache?" You nodded. "We need to find Clarke."

You started to walk towards the drop-ship and noticed how busy it looked. The sudden feeling of nausea washed over you, as your chest became heavy. Your coughing became worse before you started to throw up blood. Everything started to go hazy, as the only thing you could make out was yelling around you.

"Finn, don’t touch her!"

—

You awoke to feel a hard thumping on your back, as you lay on your front. "Wh..what..." you struggled to talk. "Where am I?"

The thumping stopped as Octavia quickly appeared in front of you. "You're in the drop-ship. Murphy turned you over because you were choking."

"Choking? On what?" You asked groggy.

"Blood," she squeezed your hands. "You passed out and Finn carried you inside before leaving to help Raven blow up the bridge."

You closed your eyes and were too exhausted to reply. Octavia said she and Murphy would keep an eye on you. Hours must have passed when you woke up. You sat up feeling slightly better.

You glanced across the room to see Murphy trying to offer Bellamy a drink of water. "Bellamy, you're sick, okay? I'm just trying to help. Here."

You sighed and walked towards them. You do your best to ignore the terrible smells and blood around you.

"When I get better, if you're still here-" Bellamy frowned when he saw you. "Why are you up? You should be resting."

"I’ve got this one Murphy," you smiled and took the cup from his hand. "Thanks for saving my life and all that."

Murphy grumped out a ‘no problem’ before walking away.

You sat down next to Bellamy, as she pouted. "What are you doing now? His best friend? After-"

"Murphy is an ass," you cut him off. "But he never hurt me, and I believe in second chances."

Bellamy took a drink of water before you started wiping some of the blood off his face. He stared at you so intensely that it made you almost uncomfortable. You could have wanted to say something but were holding back. "Something you want to talk about?"

"You and Finn-" He was cut off by a loud noise from outside the ship. Bellamy sat up as Clarke ran into the room, "They did it."

"I am becoming a death destroyer of worlds." You raised your eyebrows listening to her talk. "It's Oppenheimer, the man who built the first--"

Bellamy stood up, "I know who Oppenheimer is."

"Who cares about him?" you interrupted. "I want to know what the hell caused the explosion."

"Raven..." Bellamy glanced down at you. "I thought O told you? Raven and Finn went to blow up the bridge to slow the grounders down."

Oh. The plan sounded extremely reckless and dangerous, but if anybody could pull off a stunt like that, it was Raven Reyes.

—

You stood outside Raven’s tent pacing back and forth. Your relationship with the brunette wasn’t good, but you were friends once, and you hoped overtime she would forgive you.

"What?"

The sound of Finn’s voice caused you to freeze on the spot. You didn’t realise he was inside the tent as well. Trying to fix things with her suddenly felt so wrong.

"When Bellamy asked who was gonna take it, you hesitated."

"It's what people do when they're considering something that might blow them up, right?"

You turned to walk away, not feeling right about listening in on a private conversation, but stopped when you heard your name being said.

"Daze...You didn't hesitate when she was falling. You knew she had the virus, but you caught her, anyway."

"Raven..."

You could hear the break in Raven’s voice as she spoke. "You didn't hesitate."

"Raven, I love you."

Hearing Finn say those words to someone else made you break inside. Tears spilled from your ears as you clasped a hand over your mouth so they could hear. He wasn’t yours to love, but you still did. And you hate yourself.

"Not the way that I want to be loved." Raven continued. "Not the way that you love Daisy. It's over, Finn."

You walked backwards, being careful not to trip over any of the ropes stuck in the ground. You put your head down low when you saw Bellamy walking towards the gate. You prayed he hadn’t noticed you. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to see you cry.

The minute you entered your tent, more tears began to spill down your cheeks. You jumped, feeling a pair of arms wrap around you, "O?"

"I overheard them as well," she confessed.

"Raven was my friend...Now they have split up, I have no idea how to fix it."

Octavia sighed, "regardless of how this works out, you always have me, you know that?"

You nodded, "I know. And I’ll always have your back O, no matter what."

Season one

[bigfrozenfan-fanfics]

Chapter 09 - Sisters

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: each Friday on (link)

Remarks: all my chapters contain carefully selected music tracks. It’s your own decision if you want to use them or not while reading. The purpose is to musically support the respective mood of the plot. If you can please use a browser for reading (not the Tumblr app) due to the text formatting and music.

As Halvard slowly walked back to camp with the other men, still thinking about Yelana's news, he wanted to see what was going on in the camp at first and looked for his family. Linnea and Honeymaren were supposed to look after the toddlers of the camp during the Norting. But he only saw his wife, who was clearly having trouble with the little ones. Where was just his daughter? He was starting to get angry and looked in their kota first.

~~~

“Get up, Honeymaren, come on! You're still sleeping. You had only one important task this morning,” someone called out in an angry tone and shook her rudely by the shoulder.

“Hmm ...?” Honeymaren slowly opened her eyes and blinked. She saw the respectful figure of her father standing above her, now with his hands put on his hips, and his face indicating nothing good.

“Where were you last night? What's the matter with you?”

She got up slowly and struggled with her tiredness. “Nothing, I was just ... on the beach at sunset and fell asleep. Didn't wake up until after it was nightfall. Sorry.” She yawned and tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes. “It won't happen again, papa, I promise.”

Her father shook his head, “Come on, daughter, your mother is wondering where you are. She's all alone with the naughty boys from the camp and you were supposed to help her mind the little ones today.”

“Why didn't you wake me up?” she asked, looking at him from drowsy eyelids.

“That's what we did this morning when we went out. However, you didn't hear us obviously. Otherwise you always get up right after us ...,” he said, looking at her without understanding, “What's wrong with you recently? Come on, get dressed and then get out.”

She looked after him as he walked out first. Then she put on her clothes and followed him.

She walked wearily between the kotas and already heard the laughter of several small children from a distance even before she saw her mother and the cheeky gang. She stopped and watched for a moment. Linnea looked a bit overwhelmed as she tried to keep everyone under control. Honeymaren finally walked on and clapped her hands loudly. The children's heads spun around and two of them ran towards her laughing and calling her name. She didn't feel like it; she thought, but seeing her mother like that touched her conscience. It was time for an apology.

~~~

Ryder was on his way back to camp and had a brooding expression on his face. It had been his first time at this kind of meetings and he wondered why everything has to be kept from the Arendellians. They were their friends now, and he liked Kristoff above all, because he was like him and let Sven talk the same way he did with his reindeer. But he was not allowed to tell them anything about the Great Ting and what was exposed in it. This made him feel sadness and at the same time frustrated and guilty. How could he tell Kristoff that they were all in great danger?

Ryder was so lost in thought that he was startled when someone suddenly spoke to him. He looked up in surprise and realized that instead of going to the camp and to Kristoff, he was now standing in front of his reindeer herd. One of the two young boys who had been looking after them in the meantime said, “Hey Ryder. Why are you looking so downheartedly at? Are you sick or something?”

Ryder put his usual smile back on, “No, no. There's nothing wrong with me. I was just thinking. You gonna be okay with the herd?”

The two nodded and the other said, “Sure, everything's fine. Why?”

“I just wanted to say good morning to Kristoff but was all in thoughts and made a wrong turn.”

They looked at each other and then at him again and laughed. “Made a wrong turn?”

Oh, man, that was embarrassing now; Ryder thought to himself and rolled his eyes. “Well, it happens, right? It's probably never happened to you guys before.”

“Nope,” they said, as if from one mouth.

Ryder took turns looking from one to the other and he couldn't help but notice this little grin on their faces. Well, this could become cheerful, he thought and said, “All right. You take care of everything and I'll be off again.” He turned around at the last word and walked back into the woods with big steps. They already had an answer on their lips, but could only look after him irritated. Ryder grinned and whispered, “No, boys, not with me. Not today.”

~~~

Elsa had been walking all morning across the camp and had looked around. Many were not on the road, there were mainly women at work, and younger Northuldra to be seen, no men. Elsa wondered about this for a moment, but was distracted, because she was constantly greeted friendly and even the children knew her name. Elsa was amazed and greeted everyone back with a smile. Why does everyone here know me, if I am not from here; she asked herself. What had Myrtha told her? She was a good friend of the Northuldra. But even the little children here addressed her with 'Hello, Elsa'. There was something the healer kept from her.

She mused, remembering that Myrtha had hesitated at first. Then she recalled the letters from Queen Anna that she had read, very personal letters to her, with many things she didn't understand. Not yet anyway; she thought. She absolutely had to find her sister and talk to her, she was certainly still here somewhere in the camp.

Elsa looked around and then went back to her kota on another way. Finally she saw people with clothes looking different, sitting in front of a cold fireplace, her sister with her back to her. She could recognize her by her strawberry-blonde hair, now when she remembered her evening visit. The man opposite her was dressed similar to the Northuldra, but looked somewhat different. And then there was this little guy who had frightened her so much that night. Now in the daylight he did not look so scary to her anymore at all. He even seemed to be quite funny and somehow she felt such a strange feeling of closeness, but could not tell what it was exactly.

She walked towards the small group that was talking lively and stopped behind Anna. The man's jaw dropped when he noticed her and stared at her. This little white guy also seemed very surprised.

“Kristoff? What ...,” Anna asked and turned around. The next moment she jumped up and hugged her sister not a second later. “Elsa!”

Elsa felt taken by surprise, but withstood the reflex to retreat. Maybe that was her usual greeting; she thought and put her arms gently around Anna. She felt herself being pulled into a firm and intimate embrace, and Anna didn't let go so quickly.

After what felt like a minute, Elsa finally cleared her throat and immediately got more air, when Anna held her at half an arm's length and looked deep into her eyes. Their gazes fixated each other and in some way it seemed that they wanted to explore their bare souls. With anyone else this moment would have been unpleasant for Elsa, but here and now something special came into being between the two of them, something that somehow seemed familiar to her. She could feel it clearly and see it in Anna's deep blue eyes.

None of them spoke a word. Anna looked a lot like her, she could see that now. Since she had seen her own reflection in a brook yesterday, she now also knew her own countenance. The main difference was of course the color of her hair and she was also a bit smaller than her. But otherwise she almost saw herself standing before her. They just stood there and explored each other with glances. Until finally somebody said, “Guys ... um ... we're still here too?”

They separated and Anna sat down again, but pulled Elsa down, next to her. She didn't mind and so now she sat beside her sister on a log in the camp and felt all eyes on her.

“Well, that was a little weird for me now and you all look like you have a lot of questions for me. But believe me, it's the other way around, because I still can't remember anything.”

A tense silence arose and finally Anna took the floor and said, “We'll help you, Elsa. Just ask us anything you want to know.”

Elsa looked at her, “I know that you are Anna, my sister, and the Queen of Arendelle, and that I come from there. But they are not my memories, I was only told this. That’s all I know for certain, I do not remember anything else. Even after I read all your letters, nothing in them felt familiar.”

Anna nodded understandingly and slightly touched Elsa's arm. “Perhaps I'd better introduce the others to you first. This here is Kristoff, my fiancé,” she explained, pointing at him with her other hand.

Kristoff didn't seem to know how to handle this situation and greeted only softly, “Hello, Elsa.”

“And this is Olaf, he's ...,” Anna faltered. How only could she explain this, she wondered. “He is ... well, he's a snowman, and ...,” she didn't know what to say without reveal Elsa the whole truth.

But Olaf, however, was unaware of such concerns and, as straightforward as he was, came out with the facts. “You magically created me, Elsa. Without you, I would not exist.” Anna's head fell on her chest, her hands in front of her face. Now it was out. Oh, Olaf; she thought.

“I did what?” Elsa asked stunned and stared at him in disbelief. Then she looked at Anna and then at Kristoff and put on a wry grin. “Sure. Honestly, guys, I may have lost my memory, but you can't be serious. Magically created! Plus a ... snowman, whatever that is. Then what am I if I could do such things?”

“You've had this ability since you were born and you're the only one who can do things like that,” Anna finally admitted. “This blessing was a gift.”

Elsa's mouth still remained open and for a few moments she could not say anything in reply. Then she recovered from the shock and said, shaking her head, “I can't believe it. Please pinch me so I can wake up again.” Anna took it literally and pinched her upper arm hard.

“Ow!” Elsa rubbed the spot and searched in their faces in front of her, but everyone looked at her only curiously. “You all really mean it.” Everyone nodded silently. “A gift ... why and from whom? How can you give something like this as a gift at all? Besides, I feel perfectly normal and have no idea how to do that.”

“Well, Elsa, that's one of the many reasons why I'm going to bring you back to Arendelle,” Anna said, smiling affectionately and stroking her cheek tenderly. “Home.”

~~~

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I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know.

Tagging: @karma26 @whether-near-to-me-or-far @annaofthenorthernlights @igotelsapregnanthelp