#you may rest until next october /threat

[ohtobealady]

October Prompts

5 October: Silver

She paused her breathing—only for a moment. She paused it, slowed it, to slow her heart. She wouldn’t let Robert see her nerves. She wouldn’t let him see the small panic she felt winding its way up and between her ribs, choking the space there, where her heart beat.

Doctor Clarkson nodded at the brown bottle of iodine he held in his grasp. It glimmered mockingly in the bright spring sunlight that shone through the windows.

“You’ll use this when it’s time to change the bandaging.” She lowered her chin, listening. “It should be applied twice daily for the first few days, though I believe we’ll be able change to only once daily soon enough. We’ll allow the wound to air likely at the beginning of … er, next week.”

Cora nodded. Iodine. Twice daily when bandaging. Until next week, she committed to memory.

He handed it to her, reaching his arm across Robert lying between them, and he picked up the clean bandages. “Now, I’ll start the first change and, if you’re agreeable, I’ll have you complete it, Lady Grantham. To be certain.”

“Alright,” she mumbled, again the panic flirting with her resolve. It made sense, she knew, for him to teach her. She did hear a bit of condescendence there, she thought, but she was too tired to mind. For the truth was, she had never changed a bandage. She had hardly ever changed or cleaned anything. And she wanted him home with her.

Steeling herself, she quickly glanced at Robert lying there beneath her. Her own dear Robert, lips bloodless, dark circles beneath his eyes. Oh, while he looked terribly tired and unwell, he was, in fact, on the mend. His being here, lying between she and Clarkson, proved it.

Robert didn’t meet her gaze as Clarkson inspected his bandages and then began to neatly pull them away from his side. He still didn’t meet her gaze when Clarkson asked Cora to pay close attention to a particular area that was healing slower than the rest.

She did.

Cora did her best not to wince as Doctor Clarkson slowly pulled the bandage from Robert’s skin, a section of it sticking to where blood had dried against it.

She blinked. She, again, glanced to her husband’s face whose eyes were trained on the ceiling above them. She drew in a deep breath.

“Aye,” Clarkson said quietly as he rolled the bloodied fabric against itself. “Everything looks well.”

She made herself look now. If Robert was coming home—and he was—and she was to be the one to care for him—and she was determined to—then she couldn’t afford the fear that stung her chest.

Oh. But it was worse than she thought it would be. The sutures were there. Down the center of his stomach. Then below, a small line of additional sutures marching across.

Larger than she thought it would be.

One. Two. Three. Four. She stopped counting them, each thick stitch, realizing suddenly that there were more than enough to throw her heart into quick spasms.

She swallowed and looked to Clarkson, who nodded again at the bottle she held.

“Alright, my lady. The iodine first. On a cotton ball. Pressing lightly.”

She glanced at Robert, and then, gathering courage, grinned in an effort to pretend confidence. I will do this. Easily, she soaked the cotton with the iodine. And then, praying very quickly that she’d not hurt him, she pressed it gently—very gently—to the healing incision.

She noticed the way his shoulders tensed as she pressed. She had to ignore it. She noticed the way his eyes looked further upwards, and then as they closed. She had to ignore that, too. And then she noticed, with a rush of fresh panic, blood—red and new—beginning to seep from where her fingers had been.

“Have I—“

“—Ah,” Clarkson stopped her, remarking upon it as one may when finding a sixpence on the floor. “Leave it and just continue there. Near the sternum. I’ll return.”

But Cora didn’t want to continue there. She watched the blood form a neat and perfect sphere, and she swallowed away the threat of tears. Stupid, stupid, useless tears—oh, she’d not slept.

“It isn’t as awful as I’d imagined,” her pretended self lied aloud. “And this seems very simple. If I’d have known, we could’ve had you home days ago.” Lies. Lies, again.

Lying there, still, she heard her husband groan.

Oh, what had she done? “You aren’t in any pain, are you?” She studied his worn features for any hint of discomfort. “Does it hurt at all?”

At last, he spoke. “No.”

And again, it made her want to cry.

“Good,” she answered, tightly and curtly, and demanded herself to press the cotton ball to the very top of the long vertical incision. “I dare say this will all heal up very nicely.” Her fingers were trembling, and she pulled in a long—very long—breath. “Especially once we get you home and—“

What? What was happening to her? She’d done so well. She’d not cried. A few moments of weepiness, yes. But she’d not cried because, well, he was alright. He was here and healing and he was able to come home and Doctor Clarkson was so pleased with his recovery and—

—his cold fingers stilled her own.

Cora looked at his face and saw, at last, that he met her eye. Embarrassed, she sniffed back the emotion, the illogical and delayed emotion … the terrifyingly deep love she felt for him.

His thumb passed over her fingers, and Cora closed her eyes. Nodded. And opened them again.

“I feel quite capable of this, you know,” she lied one last time. “But I warn you, once you’re home again, I won’t have you over-exerting yourself and undoing all my hard work.”

He didn’t speak, but Cora could feel it. She felt the way his finger held her own tighter.

“—here we are.”

He dropped her hand. She turned to Doctor Clarkson.

“Silver nitrate,” he said, brandishing another small bottle. “Just a touch to stop the bleeding.”

Cora watched him; she watched the way he administered to the tiny bleeding spot. “Wounds can sometimes bleed, a wee bit, post-trauma.” And she watched in wonder as the bleeding stopped, as if frozen by the tiny silver drop against his skin. “Even the smallest prodding can do it. But, not to worry, it’ll heal.”

[acciotherapists]

Far From Home (Chapter 35: The Truth)

Loki x Reader

Y/n Y/l/n never thought her past would come back to find her. After all who would look for her on Midgard? But one day in the small town of Puento Antiguo her world is turned upside down when an old friend turns up, threatening everything she has built and the people she’d fought so hard to protect. What happens when the life she left behind finally catches up with her? What happens when the old flame she thought had burned out reignites within her?

Warnings: language (sorry, Steve), eventual smut (slow burn), angst, some mentions of torture (most things won’t be detailed but anything that gets a bit more specific will be warned at the beginning of the chapter)

I just need time. If only it was that simple. A few minutes of time and everything would be normal again. I wish I could believe that statement to be true but we both knew it wasn’t. Loki smiled softly as he left the room, leaving me alone with the dusty file. Dust particles floated around the room as I turned the front cover. Notes were scrawled in the margins and it was hard to decipher exactly what each piece meant until I would find another page that connected the dots. It went on like this for a while as I slowly deciphered the information.

There were hundreds of pages, each detailing some new and horrific experiment that they’d done, though none of these interested me as most of them I remembered every painful detail. It wasn’t until I reached a section entitled ‘memory replacement’ that my interest was piqued. There were several entries, each dated, though many of the dates had faded over time.

May 12, 1943

We have finally located a being capable of immortal life and the ability to touch the tesseract without protective equipment. Subject is extremely volatile but is responding well to sedatives and will remain frozen for the time being. Subject was sedated upon interaction with the tesseract.

Log 1: May 9, 1952

Arnim Zola

Several years after the supposed death of our leader, Red Skull, we have decided to thaw one of our potential soldiers, Subject A, in the hopes that she can turn the tide in this war.

Log 379: June 13, 1953

We’ve had to switch locations due to a potential threat. Subject is responding well to memory replacement, though we are facing difficulties erasing certain memories.

 Log 789: October 18, 1955

Successful withdrawal of blood and platelets, though no significant difference between our sample. Subject is more agitated than normal today. Calling out for a man named Loki.

I skipped further down the log, finding a variety of entries, each detailing failed experiments and location changes, as well as visits from a ‘classified visitor.’ I scoffed at that. Classified was such a large word for a visitor they were too afraid of anyone finding out about. Red Skull, the man who refused to die yet let everyone believe he was gone.

My eyes widened as I read through the dates once again. 1944. That was several years before I thought I was taken.

I continued searching through the file, finding detailed documents regarding shock therapy and memory replacement, though it seemed the replacements hadn’t taken root. Notes were scrawled into the margin in an angry script. Failed.

I turned the page, searching for more, though this only seemed to increase my questions as names were scrawled into the margin. Loki. Abigail. Rose. Frigga. Odin. Thor. Birth Parents

A knock on the door pulled me from my search and I quickly stuffed the pages back into the file. “Come in!”

Loki’s face appeared in the doorway as he shut the door behind him. “I just wanted to check on you, darling.” His eyes searched mine and he quickly made his way to the bed, taking my face in his hand, wiping away the tears I hadn’t even realized had slipped down my cheeks.

“Darling, I think that’s enough for today.” His hand rested on the file in front of me and I quickly covered his hand.

“I’m fine, Loki,” I assured, removing his hand from the file and pulling him to sit next to me, placing the file on the nightstand near the bed. He searched my eyes, searching for any hidden lie within them. When he seemed satisfied he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his thumb gently stroking my cheek.

“Did you find what you needed?”

“No,” I sighed, looking down. 

“There’s more questions than answers in that file but it appears they tried to erase memories of everyone I cared about. It appears they succeeded with Rose and Abigail.” I looked up at him. “Who were they to me?”

He smiled softly. “Abigail was your maid for as long as I can remember. As soon as your parents passed she was assigned to your care. Rose was her daughter. You met her briefly before…” he trailed off as I nodded in understanding.

“Who were my parents?”

He looked away from me, toward the file on the nightstand. 

“Loki!” I took his hand in mine. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Darling… I-.”

“Please,” I begged. “I need to know.”

He sighed, wiping a few stray tears from my cheeks.

“Your mother was Lofn, the goddess of forbidden love.”

I chuckled. “Seems fitting for our love affair.”

He smiled before continuing. “She was one of Frigga’s handmaidens. They were very close and mother was devastated when she died. You were just a fews younger than myself and mother couldn’t bear the thought of casting you into the street or handing you over to the servants to take care of so she took you in.”

“I’m glad she took me in,” I answered.

“As am I, my darling. As am I.”

I thought back to the dates in the file. “Loki… how long was I really gone?”

“67 years, 5 months, and two days,” he murmured.

“There’s seven years of time I can’t remember, Loki… I was frozen for most of it.”

“I thought it seemed strange when you mentioned being gone for 60 years,” he sighed. “I counted every awful day from the moment you went missing.”

“I suppose I never paid much attention to earth years before I started living here.”

“You counted the days from the moment you woke up,” he realized. “And you never had a clue that you’d been there longer?”

“No,” I answered. “Everything looked the same as when they’d put me under. They told me I’d only been out a few hours.”

“Apologies, Miss Y/l/n,” Jarvis interrupted. “Mr. Stark would like to see you downstairs.”

I sighed as Loki rolled his eyes. “Do you have to go?”

I chuckled. “I’m afraid so, especially given that Stark pays the rent.”

His brows furrowed, confused as to what I meant. “It means he pays for us to live here,” I chuckled. “It’s just a saying, Loki.”

He huffed, standing from the bed, still holding my hand in his.

“Do you want to come with me?”

“Can I?” he asked, his eyes lighting up.

I nodded. “If Stark has a problem with it he can kiss my ass.”

“I thought he… ‘paid the rent,��” Loki quoted as I chuckled.

“He requested me. I’m bringing you along. He’ll get over it.”

He smiled as we left the room together.

*******

Taglist: @purplekitten30@lokisprettygirl22@midnights-ramblings @huntress-artemiss@lokis-little-love@lokis-tigress@the-archangel-in-asgard@crimson25

[steveezekiel]

BEING DISCERNING AS A LEADER

[Leadership style of Nehemiah 7]

1. Sanballat, Tobiah, Geshem the Arab, and the rest of our enemies found out that I had finished rebuilding the wall and that no gaps remained—though we had not yet set up the doors in the gates.

2. So Sanballat and Geshem sent a message asking me to meet them at one of the villages in the plain of Ono.

BUT I REALIZED THEY WERE PLOTTING TO HARM ME."

Nehemiah 6:1,2 (NLT)

• In Jesus' earthly Ministry:

"THEN Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness TO BE TEMPTED BY THE DEVIL" (Matthew 4:1 NKJV).

- God did allow or permit Him, Jesus, to be tempted, though the Son of God (Luke 4:1,2; Hebrews 5:8).

- You also should expect the tests, you would not be without one (Matthew 10:24,25; John 13:16).

- After the initial tests which the devil brought to Jesus, while fasting in the wilderness, he later came back when he had the opportunity:

"WHEN the devil had finished tempting Jesus, HE LEFT HIM UNTIL THE NEXT OPPORTUNITY CAME" (Luke 4:13 NLT).

• The devil would always come to test you, challenge you in your work, whenever he had the opportunity.

- Someone said, If you do not believe the devil exists, you should go ahead and start a Ministry—he will let you know that he does exist, and that he is real.

- The devil cannot but come to challenge you in the work of ministry. But he will always meet his Waterloo, a disappointment and defeat, If you knew how to handle him.

- Also, you should know, whatever the test may be, It always would lead to your promotion—if you do pass the test, and overcome the challenge.

- Nehemiah experienced continued opposition in the rebuilding of the wall of Jerusalem. The enemies of the Jews who opposed what Nehemiah was doing, plotted to harm him, when they saw that he was undeterred in his commitment to the work (Nehemiah 6:1,2).

- The plans of those who opposed or stood against him, were foiled because:

(i) Nehemiah did carry God along in all he was doing and was wholeheartedly committed to the assignment.

(ii) He did not give them any attention and credibility.

(iii) He committed everything to God in prayer.

- The enemies even planned on propaganda campaigns to malign his name before the King (Nehemiah 6:6,7). - They also hired some false prophets to give false prophecies to Nehemiah, in order to intimidate him:

10 AFTERWARDS I CAME TO THE HOUSE OF SHEMAIAH THE SON OF DELAIAH, the son of Mehetabel, WHO WAS A SECRET INFORMER; and he said, “Let us meet together in the house of God, within the temple, and let us close the doors of the temple, for they are coming to kill you; indeed, at night they will come to kill you.” 11 And I said, “Should such a man as I flee? And who is there such as I who would go into the temple to save his life? I will not go in!” 12 THEN I PERCEIVED THAT GOD HAD NOT SENT HIM AT ALL, BUT THAT HE PRONOUNCED THIS PROPHECY AGAINST ME BECAUSE TOBIAH AND SANBALLAT HAD HIRED HIM. 13 For this reason HE WAS HIRED, that I should be afraid and act that way and sin, so that they might have cause for an evil report, THAT THEY MIGHT REPROACH ME" (Nehemiah 6:10,13 NKJV).

"REMEMBER, O my God, all the evil things that Tobiah and Sanballat have done. And remember NOADIAH THE PROPHET AND ALL THE PROPHETS LIKE HER WHO HAVE TRIED TO INTIMIDATE ME."

Nehemiah 6:14 (NLT)

• Your success is a threat to the devil:

15 So on October 2 the wall was finished—just fifty-two days after we had begun. 16 When our enemies and the surrounding nations heard about it, THEY WERE FRIGHTENED AND HUMILIATED. THEY REALIZED THIS WORK HAD BEEN DONE WITH THE HELP OF OUR GOD" (Nehemiah 6:15,16 (NLT).

- The devil persecutes and intimidates you, because he is afraid of your success.

- The devil can read the signs, thus, he could perceive what God wanted to do through the vision given to you; therefore he does want to stop you.

- The enemies of the Jews were alarmed, frightened and humiliated, when they heard about the completion of the wall of Jerusalem.

• Note: As a leader and a minister, you must be aware of the fact that some people in your ministry are loyal to the devil—they are there as instruments of him, to short-circuit the flow or the move of God in the work.

(i) It is not everyone who comes to the church that has come to receive Blessings. Some are in the church as the devil's representatives, or instruments, to work against whatever you are instructed to do.

17 DURING those fifty-two days, MANY LETTERS WENT BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN TOBIAH AND THE NOBLES OF JUDAH.

18 FOR MANY IN JUDAH HAD SWORN ALLEGIANCE TO HIM because his father-in-law was Shecaniah son of Arah, and his son Jehohanan was married to the daughter of Meshullam son of Berekiah.

19 THEY kept telling me about Tobiah’s good deeds, AND THEN THEY TOLD HIM EVERYTHING I SAID. And TOBIAH KEPT SENDING THREATENING LETTERS TO INTIMIDATE ME."

Nehemiah 6:17-19 (NLT)

(ii) Some may be there in your ministry to fight your vision, and such would not want the fulfilment of the work.

(iii) Some are there to cause your derailment. If Jesus Christ who is our Lord, Master, could have one who is a devil, out of his Twelve apostles; It does mean it is not unlikely that you would have a couple of such—in your Ministry (John 6:70).

(iv) Some are busybodies in your ministry, yet, they would refuse to leave; they are strategically planted to discomfort you and cause you to derail.

(v) Thus, a Minister must be strong in prayer:

a. You will not be able to do much in the work of the Kingdom without Prayer (Luke 18:1; Ephesians 6:18; 1 Thessalonians 5:17).

b. Things are made happen in the ministry work through Prayer (Mark 9:29).

c. When you prayed, God will reveal the hearts of those who are NOT in agreement with what you are doing, yet, they are around you and refused to leave. Apostle Paul said: "... IN PERILS AMONG FALSE BRETHREN" (2 Corinthians 11:26).

d. Through prayer and communion with God, you will know those who are in your ministry to sabotage your efforts, and those who are there to work with you for the fulfillment of the vision (John 6:64,71; 13:11).

- It may amaze you that some of the people you trusted are betrayers, that is why you need to be discerning and sensitive.

• You will not fail in Jesus' name.

Peace!

TO BE CONTINUED

[golfupnorth]

October 1, 2022 Newsletter

I cannot believe it is October

Sad that golfing in Northern Michigan is about done until next year. Happy I was able to do a fair amount of golfing the last couple of months. Mostly in Northern Michigan, but a couple of rounds in Virginia. This was a tough year for me and golf. Life did not cooperate with my desired golf schedule.

I mentioned in last months newsletter that I bought a new set of clubs and was struggling with them. I used that excuse a lot during our rounds at Treetops.

Golfed two rounds with my Virginia son when I was there a couple of weeks ago. I took my clubs with me to get some practice in on the new clubs. I think I am making progress with them, except with my irons which have always been a struggle. Loving my new 7 wood, so much so that I am thinking about getting a 9 wood. Thinking a bag full of woods with a chipper and putter is all I need. My son suggested that I get some hybrid irons since I suck so badly with my 7, 8 & 9 irons. Any opinions for a girl that cannot hit an iron to save her soul?

Treetops Resort

I talked about our August weekend at Treetops and playing the fun par 3 course Threetops. We also played an 18-hole course The Signature. When I was booking the weekend, we had the option of 4 courses to choose from. The Masterpiece, The Tradition, The Premier and The Signature. We chose The Signature because The Masterpiece and Premier may have been a bigger challenge than I would have enjoyed, especially with my new clubs. My husband was not a fan of The Tradition course, so we skipped that one.

Now, all of this said, in hindsight I think we may have been hasty. The Masterpiece is on the main property and looked like a great course, one I want to play. The Premier as well as all the other courses are on the North Property and all start from the same clubhouse. From what I could see the other 2 course there looked very nice and very playable for me. Threetops starts from here as well.

All the courses have rolling hills and elevation changes. When driving through northern Michigan and it is common to see this type of terrain. Robert Trent Jones, Sr was looking over the resort before designing the Masterpiece and he commented that “you can’t see anything but treetops.” The name stuck and if you have been to Treetops, you know it is a very accurate name/description.

The Signature at Treetops

The Signature is a par 70 course, there are 3 par 3s on the front nine and 2 on the back nine. There are 3 par 5s, 1 on the front and 2 on the back. We had an early afternoon tee time and was pleasantly surprised to see that we had open in front of us and back of us. We tend to play fast so we were hopeful that the wide open would hold up for all 18 holes. No such luck, by the 3rd hold we caught up with the rest of the golfers and play was a little slow going from there. At one point we let the guys behind us play through because they kept hitting up on us. Figured we were all waiting, it did not much matter which position I waited in and this way I was not dodging balls. 😊

Because of the location it is common to see wildlife wandering through the course. We were lucky to see a momma and her fawn on hole 4. It looked like she was wanting to leave her baby in the tall grass, but these pesky golfers were a threat. She was standing on my tee box; the fawn was on the other side of the fairway, and I just kept walking forward and talking to her. I told her her baby was safe, but I was teeing off and she needed to move. She stood her ground until I was almost in the tee box, then she took off leaving her baby behind, or so I thought. After teeing off I saw her not too far behind me in the trees keeping a very close eye on me and her baby. Deer are very common encounters on Northern Michigan courses, but it always gives me a thrill to see them, and this is the first time with a baby. We were also followed by a red hawk for a couple of holes, I wondered if one of our covers in the basket looked like dinner from her vantage point.

Spectacular views

I do not think there was one hole where I did not stare off in awe of the view. The course is so well maintained that even the tree lined fairways and greens are just phenomenal. Some of the elevations of the holes were crazy, similar to Threetops, but those just added to the view. Truly a beautiful course in every way.

The course had some struggles for me, and I had a couple of blow-up holes. Not sure if it was still adjusting to the new clubs or the course. Regardless of the challenge for me, I had a blast and had some holes that had me puffing out my chest and doing a little trash talking.

First Hole

The first hole starts at a higher elevation it is all downhill. 400+ yards elevated tee box for my husband and around 350 with slightly elevated tee box for me. We thought we had a good chance of getting a decent drive. He did fine, me, still getting used to my clubs. 😊

The green is a bowl and very forgiving. The fairway gets a little narrower as you approach the green, but not enough that it posed any issues for either of us.

This was a great hole to start our round with. Absolutely spectacular view of the countryside and a very playable hole.

Holes 2 and 3 each have their own specialness. 2 is a par 3 and has a bunker lined rolling fairway. Husband parred it, me, still getting used to my clubs. 😊 3 is wide open with elevated trees and a lot of sand traps, not horrible showing, starting to get comfortable with the clubs maybe?

Momma and her fawn

Hole 4 was where we encountered our momma deer. This is a par 3 and has a lot of foliage in front of most of the tee boxes. I was lucky, my tee box was off to the left on the side of the foliage. This is probably why our momma was there, the foliage provided good cover for her baby. I struggle with this because there was still a little foliage I needed to hit over, and the baby was somewhere up there, and I was petrified of hurting it. I lost a ball on this hole.

Holes 5 through 10

Holes 5- 10 were all very playable but with twists to them. Hole 5 looks like a par 5 but is not. The 6th hole is a par 5 and I was convinced they forgot to put the flag out. I could not see the green from my tee box. Hole 7 is a slight dog leg with a bumpy fairway, a fun hole for me.

The 3rd par 3 hole on the front nine is hole 8 and I should have easily got either a par or a bogey on. This hole blew up on me and the sand just grabbed my ball and would not let go. Hole 9 is a perfect hole for me, nice and straight. Plus, the view at the end was just wonderful. 10th hole is another nice and straight for me. A par 5, but the sand traps were easy to avoid. Three putting not so much.

I beat the damn ferns!

Hole 11 is a par 3 and has a fairly deep section of tall ferns that you have to hit over. If there is water, sand or foliage that needs to be driven over you can be assured I will be landing in the middle of it. Add in that the line over the ferns is very narrow and I was sweating it. I was finally starting to feel a little more comfortable with my clubs because I sailed that ball high and long. Ended up on the green and then decided to kill my drive and 3 putt. Did I mention I was still adjusting to new clubs? 😊

Holes 12 through 18

Like the rest of the course, these holes are unique with their own rolling elevations. On a few of them you would hit downhill on one stroke and uphill the next and then downhill again. Definitely kept us on our toes, but so much fun.

We took pictures of every hole with a few extras to show some from a different perspective than the blue tees. You can view them all by visiting our website.

Treetops Weekend

As mentioned in our last newsletter, we felt our weekend was very affordable for just under $700 for the 2 us and 2 rounds of golf each. I definitely want to return and stay longer and play the other 3 courses. I also want to play the Signature again. Plus, I want to try Threetops again now that I know what to expect and I am much more comfortable with the new clubs.

Check them out and book a trip, you will not be disappointed.

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We hope you enjoyed our latest issue of The Golf Up North Newsletter.

Disclosure: We never tell a course who we are when we book and play a course. We do not ask nor will we accept free rounds to write about a course. We pay full price for our rounds for everyone in our group.

[quillsinkwell]

I posted 352 times in 2022

That's 340 more posts than 2021!

25 posts created (7%)

327 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ministarfruit

@collabwithmyself

@senseiwu

@dreamwalker6500

@sugarglider-s

I tagged 195 of my posts in 2022

Only 45% of my posts had no tags

#quill's reblogs - 111 posts

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#ace attorney - 42 posts

#misquillaneous - 31 posts

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#quill talks - 15 posts

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#bendy and the ink machine - 8 posts

#batdr spoilers - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 82 characters

#this is what happens when you turn all your queer employees into ink monsters joey

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

OK, FINALLY HOME, TIME TO SAY MY THOUGHTS ON THE TRAILER

The animation was really good, even for Illumination. You can really tell Nintendo *put a lot of money in to make this look good (read: held a gun to Illumination's head to make sure they didn't fuck this up)

So, fun fact about me, before this trailer, I have never heard Jack Black's voice. I didn't even know who he was until he got cast! Still, I gotta, you can tell he put a lot of effort into Bowser's voice, to make it that perfect mix of villainous so you can see why he's seen as a threat but also cartoony enough to be funny.

Speaking of funny, the scene with the peinguins? Hilarious!

Also, internet, can we bully Nintendo into getting rid of Crisp Rat? That man IS not Mario. We did for Sonic's design, we can do it for this.

Toad was pretty ok, he wasn't a dead ringer, but he also wasn't Crisp Rat.

Also, once again, My Boi Luigi is getting buried under the rug! But, at least there's confirmation they didn't fuck him up so....

Conclusion:

Me: I want to see my little boi

Nintendo: Here he comes!

Me: *slowly lowers the gun from Miyamoto's head* ok..you may live...but i want mORE

71 notes - Posted October 6, 2022

#4

AN ACTUAL TRAILER WITH GAMEPLAY AND NOT JUST A PRANK?!

BIG BOI SEARCHER BOSS!!

NEW CHARACTERS!!

ALLISON!!

PEOPLE BREAKING INTO THE MIRACLE STATION?!

WEAPON UPGRADING?!

EVIL ALICE HAS A GUN?!

MORE LOOKS AT AUDREY!!!

BABY BENDY REAL?!?!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

86 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

#3

@knightinink WAIT REALLY? /GEN?

Whelp, time to ramble

TW for implied torture

Instead of trying to gas her, the Keepers decided to lock Audrey up with the rest of the Cyclebreakers

The barrier curtains that cover the cells? Outta here! Audrey interacting with Henry and Sammy (and Norman, he's there too) more then in-game!

During this stint in prison, Audrey sees one of the communication-radio thingies that Allison talked to her on nearby and goes for it while her cellmates cause a distraction!

She speaks into it only to hear instead...Porter?!

He was in the nearby area of one and heard her voice coming out of it and decided to strike up a conversation!

Obviously, she's like, "h e l p m e" and Porter, while kinda not getting the fact that her life's in danger, promises to come save her!

Audrey gives him instructions to find a woman with a sword named Alice and that he has to find a way to take out the power, because his powers would be canceled out.

But then the Keepers come and take Audrey away!

And they uh...let's just say that her punishment was exactly what Bendy was trying to prevent

And that everyone in the prison heard her screams.

And there was a certain someone with incredible hearing far away from the prison who heard her.

A n y w a y s, the next day, there's a power outage! So Audrey, Sammy, Henry and Norman take this opportunity to escape! (With Henry carrying Norman's head)

During the chaos they manage to unite with Porter, Allison, and Tom (the latter two have to be told that Sammy is an ally, so don't curbstomp him please-)

But then the Keepers corner them, and when it seems like they're dead just when they had a chance, the Ink Demon comes and takes advantage of the lack of power to f*ck em up!

While the others want to use Bendy's rampage as cover to escape, Henry, Audrey and Sammy aren't so inclined.

For Sammy, it's relatively simple; he can't abandon his lord! Not at his grand revival! What kind of prophet would he be?

For Audrey, she's having an internal debate. On one hand, she knows the Ink Demon could kill her, if stories from her cellmates are true and he had. On the other hand, he came here, even after what had happened to him here.

(Wilson spilled what he did to Bendy when he came by in a attempt to get Audrey's trust. It Did Not Work)

He wouldn't have done that just for no reason, and the reason that a part of her wanted to believe that it was to help her. (That part of you is right Audrey~)

Henry's having a similar debate, with the knowledge of the Cycle and the fact that's Bendy's one of Joey's pawns too.

The party's left in a stalemate until Porter just straight up yells to Bendy, "Hey silly! We're leaving soon! You don't wanna be left behind!"

And Bendy? He actually listens and heads towards the group

So now we have Allison and Tom trying to run away from Bendy but also trying not to leave Henry, Audrey, and Porter behind, Bendy in his massive Ink Demon self running behind him, Porter quick teleporting and having the time of his life, Sammy frantically screaming about Bendy, Norman screeching into Allison's ears, and Audrey and Henry just trying to keep up and wondering "how did my life get to this point"

It all comes to a climax when they're almost out of the prison when the power comes back on! And the Keepers found them

Bendy's shrinking into Benders and the Keepers are making a move on him and that's when Audrey makes her choice...

...by scooping him up in his arms and yelling at everyone to keep running

A long and heavy chase ensues, until the group manages to hide and shake them off

See the full post

115 notes - Posted December 1, 2022

#2

Thinks about ghosts as a recurring motif in BATDR. In the literal sense with Carly, the Phantoms of the Machine, Memory! Joey, etc. But also thinks about ghosts in a figurative sense. Joey haunting the studio even after dying, but not being the real Joey, just haunted by the monster the man was. Henry being created solely for Joey to haunt and torture. Audrey being haunted by Joey's legacy and not even remembering it. Alice being haunted and tormented over a false standard of perfection. Allison being haunted by Alice and what could have been. Bendy being haunted over never being good enough for Joey and being tortured and forced into what everyone else wants him to be until he meets Audrey.

god. this game heard the saying "there's more than one way to be haunted" and fucking ran with it huh

185 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

do i understand that since hunter is one of many clones of a dead guy from the 1600s him being transmasc most likely won't be canon?: yes

do i subscribe to the headcanon regardless?: also yes

289 notes - Posted June 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober2021 - October 5th - Betrayal | Misunderstanding

Dragged Away 5/6

Gift fic for @liccy

Fandom: Linked Universe

Ao3

Warnings: implied human sacrifice, blood and injury

Note: THIS IS THE FIFTH CHAPTER TO A RUNNING FIC. PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS ON AO3 TO UNDERSTAND THIS ONE.

---

Hyrule waits for a long time to make his move. Long enough to be completely sure that a good amount of hours have passed; though that assumption is mostly based on how his stomach has gone from a churning feeling from the close to rotten food shoved in him, to uncomfortable as it’s beginning to reach the final stages of digestion… which really isn’t something he wants to think about right now. Yes, he has been here for a few days, but it’s not like he’s eaten enough food lately to warrant anything like the final stages of digestion…

Not that that’s something he needs to fret about right now, despite how worrying it is to his health that he’s been too hungry and dehydrated the past alleged three days in captivity for his body to feel the need to get rid of any waste. What he needs to fret about is the key in his pocket now, and his incoming escape.

His nerves feel so fried that he barely feels anything anymore. So anxious that if he doesn’t do it now, he’ll go insane. The other’s aren’t coming for him, and he can’t just sit around and hope his captors change their minds. He’s a hero, and a shitty one at that, but a hero nonetheless; and heroes don’t wallow in self pity and doubt when there’s work to be done. He can do that later, when the threat that is Ganon is no longer something to worry about.

Besides, he should be fine. The Triforce may not have shown itself to him, but he’s positive he’s felt it. Sensed it’s presence within him, like a whisper.

The key fits in both of the locks of his shackles like he knew—hoped—they would. His shoulders ache as he brings his hands to the front of his body. The skin around both of his wrists are red, but the left one is irritated and seems just a couple more hours away from finally breaking skin. The back of the hand is still bare, but when he cups his right hand over it, he feels comfort. Courage.

He doesn’t need to see the Triforce. He knows it’s there.

He brings his hands up to his face, slowly to not strain his shoulders, and undoes the knot keeping the gag in. Once he spits out the gag and the lingering taste of the cloth and “food”, he gets to his feet and stands fully for the first time in what feels like years. His back pops as he straightens, and when he takes his first step, his hip feels like it’s going to snap out thanks to an irritated old injury he has there. But he persists, because he has to.

He goes to try the key in the door lock—assuming that most locks in this place will be the same, considering these people are enemies to the kingdom, and probably don’t have enough resources or money to take the time to make separate locks—but he’s quickly surprised to find the door not locked at all. Something that feels close to a smile twitches on his lips. He made the leader so upset that not only did he forget to lock the door, but the two lackeys must have been too flustered to think to lock it either.

Before actually opening the door, however, Hyrule goes to his tip-toes and tries to get a look through the barred window in the door. All he sees is a long, skinny corridor lined with flickering torches on the bricked, mossy walls. He doesn’t see any guards; perhaps because he’s humiliated himself enough times during his stay so far that they don’t see him as something threatening enough to be guarded. It would be wiser for them to put their efforts outside of this place and look out for anything that’s much more likely to break in compared to Hyrule breaking out.

That’s good and bad. Good, because leaving this cell will be the easy part. The hard part is getting away from this place and finding safety without being noticed.

He takes a steady breath, reminding himself that he’s defeated Ganon for crying out loud. He can handle a few cultists.

He can.

He opens the door slowly, careful to not let it creak too badly. Once he’s out in the hallway, he chooses to go to his left. Not because he knows that’s the way out, but because that’s the way his gut is telling him to go—and Hyrule’s learned long ago that his gut is right far more often than his overthinking mind.

-o-o-o-o-

Hyrule doesn’t believe in luck. Life isn’t dictated by the universe suddenly deciding if it likes you or not; and things like Goddesses don’t involve themselves in fate, they just give you the tools to use to challenge fate. It’s up to you to take those tools and survive.

Yet, it sure does seem lucky that he doesn’t run into a single enemy while going through the long tunnel-like hallway away from his cell. There’s no one to stop him, and not a single eye watches as he eventually makes it to a water-damaged ladder leading up to a closed trap-door. He takes a deep breath and climbs onto the ladder. It creeks, but holds as he moves up.

The trapdoor is damp and heavy as he pushes it up. He struggles against its weight for a moment, stopping it at just a crack so he can get a look before fully opening it. He resists cursing, as whatever luck he had almost began to believe in disappears. He can see the outside world, as it seems the trap-door rests in the middle of a long ruined home, its walls and ceiling torn apart by time and it’s floors broken away by dirt and budding grass. Through the long blades of grass, however, he can see two figures sitting at a camp-fire, dressed in familiar red garb and white masks.

They haven’t noticed the trap-door opening… clearly more focused on the card-game they’re playing between each other on a fallen over and weathered plank of wood that must have once belonged to the house. Somewhere behind him, Hyrule can smell the strong smell of fresh-water fish, and can hear the soft laps of a gentle lake. To the left, he can’t see anything but disappearing land over a massive cliff. He can’t see anything to his right, as his vision is blocked by the one wall that’s still standing. As far as from what he can tell, the only reliable way out of here would be straight ahead where grasslands stretch into mounding hills, where he thinks he can see a windmill in the distance.

He takes a deep breath. He can do this.

Quietly, he opens the trap-door the rest of the way, pleased to see neither of the soldiers have noticed. He lifts his body out of the hole and crouches in the long grass, moving towards the walls to avoid being seen. He’s not sure how he’s going to go about this… especially now that he’s above the ground fully now, and he can see through a hole in the wall right of him is nothing but rocky cliffs that look too cold for his bare chest. He can try to sneak his way towards freedom, but the only way he can go is nothing but grass and he’ll most definitely be spotted.

He has one option, and that’s to attack the guards and hope that he can come out on top.

Steeling his nerves, he approaches the guards as quietly as he can, keeping to the wall and then keeping low in the grass. He can hear the two soldiers bantering about what they’re going to do once they have won whatever game they're playing… it seems they’re gambling with bananas, and both have different dishes in mind to make with them. He’s beyond thankful that they don’t expect any trouble from his direction, their backs facing towards him, the ruined building, and towering cliffs. They’re looking out towards the grasslands, and they don’t know he’s upon them until he grabs the closest one to him around the shoulders and shoves them into the open campfire before they could realize he's there.

The soldier howls as they stumble into the flames. Hyrule forces himself to not think about it too much, knowing that if he wants to get out of here, he can’t treat these people like… people. He will have to fight like they’re the monsters they act like… and kill if he needs to.

The Triforce of Power feels warm by his middle-finger’s knuckle.

Before the other soldier can react, Hyrule snatches at the first discarded weapon he can find; a miniature curved blade, one that can fit around a neck. His neck, he remembers bitterly. He doesn’t know how to fight with this weapon, but he also has the element of surprise. He charges at the other soldier and swipes, getting them across their chest. They swear as their red armor begins to soak, reaching to their back to pull out a bow with one hand… which seems to be their only weapon. Hyrule full-body tackles into them, wrapping his arms around their middle and bringing them to the ground. They choke on a yelp as their wound is jostled, and then they go silent as Hyrule uses the feathered-butt of the blade’s handle to deal a blow against their skull.

Hyrule jumps up from his defeated opponent and spins around, bringing the scythe up to be level with his chest… but pauses when he sees no one there.

The one he pushed into the fire… they’re gone.

“Fuck,” he breathes.

-o-o-o-o-

After tying up the unconscious soldier with some rope they had on them, he makes his way up the grasslands ahead of him while keeping the dropout of a massive cliff to his left. There’s nothing else he can do. The injured soldier must have run off while he was fighting his buddy, and there’s no telling how much time he has before reinforcements come. His only option is to go as quickly as he can away from here. Safety has to be close; he can see more windmills and a bridge up in the cliffs next to some sort of shrine that’s glowing blue in the shadows of the night.

After only having made a small distance up the steady incline of the grasslands, he’s already out of breath. He’s starving and terribly thirsty, and the adrenaline of the fight with the guards had him only remember to pick up any weapons he could find and not the bananas nor a drink of water from the lake.

He doesn’t stop running, however, because if he stops then that means he might as well give up now after he’s come so much further than he thought he would.

He’s so close. He can feel it. For the first time in days, his chest feels light with determination.

Then, he’s suddenly stopped in his tracks by a massive, skeletal hand shooting up from the ground. He stumbles over his feet in the slick grass, yelping as the hand is followed by an arm, and then a shoulder, and soon Hyrule is gaping at what can only be a stalfos… but this stalfos has three times his height and holds a wicked looking spear.

He doesn’t know what to do. The monster is already howling and aiming it’s weapon at him. He can’t fight this thing with his little, stolen scythe. He needs an actual sword. A shield. He scrambles to his feet, just barely jumping out of the way of a spear heading for hit gut, but the monster swings the spear like a club and catches him in the side with the long shaft of the weapon.

All the breath is knocked out of Hyrule’s body and he’s launched off his feet. His ears ring and his chest feels like something has shattered, and by the time he hits the ground, he finds himself just a few feet away from falling into a scar-like canyon in the land that looks deep enough to already give his stomach butterflies.

Groaning through his teeth and forcing himself to ignore the agony in his side, he pushes himself to his shaky feet, facing the stalfos.

He has to fight it. He’s too injured and weak to run away. He doesn’t know how he can win… but maybe losing won't be a horrible option either.

This Stalfos just wants him dead. It probably doesn’t know about his blood and Ganon… and judging by the words of his previous captors, for Calamity Ganon to rise again he needs to be killed during something called the Blood Moon. And… the moon doesn’t look like blood right now. If he dies here, then… then…

The monster charges at him, and instinctively he brings up his weapon to try—because Hyrule may have no faith in himself, but he’s not completely suicidal… he doesn’t want to die. Dying is just his last option after he’s fought as hard as he could.

But then, before the stalfos can meet weapons, the creature’s head flies off its shoulders. An arrow falls into the grass by its feed. Hyrule can only stand there in shock as a figure rushes into the area, piercing a sword into the fallen skull of the stalfos. Then, just like that, the monster is defeated with a fallen clack of bones.

Hyrule can only gape as he watches the newcomer pull the sword out of the skull. They begin talking. “The best way to get these guys is to go for the head,” they explain, turning to Hyrule.

Hyrule doesn’t give them a chance to finish before Hyrule is crashing into their arms. “Wild!” Hyrule gasps, clutching onto his friend.

Wild goes stiff under his embrace, but then softens to return the strong embrace. “I can’t believe I found you,” he says, relief in this tone. “I’m sorry it took so long. We first tried to look for you at the Yiga base, but you weren’t there and we didn’t know where to go-”

Hyrule shakes his head in his friend’s chest. “You came.”

Wild came. He’s here. And the reason they haven’t come for him right away was because the Yiga lied to Hyrule. Wild didn’t know where he was hidden. They were looking for him… this entire time.

He almost wants to cry. His knees feel weak enough to give out. But he’s reminded that he’s still in danger when Wild takes his shoulders in his hands and pulls out of the embrace. “The others are camped out not far from here. We should get moving. I’ll protect you.”

Hyrule takes a deep breath and nods. Wild smiles back, then takes his hand and turns up the hill, leading the way. Hyrule follows along, doing his best to not let his guard down. Once he’s with the others and safe, he can collapse and sob his thanks to Wild all he wants, but for now he must keep his giddy emotions to himself and try to keep up with Wild’s quick pace.

They follow along the cliffs for an exhausting amount of time, but the whole way Wild keeps a tight hold on Hyrule’s hand, leading the way and giving Hyrule the strength to push forward. Eventually, they find themselves between two cliffs, looking up at another mound in the landscape ahead of them that splits their trail into a fork. To the right, the path returns towards the giant, snow capped cliffs, and to the left looks like the beginnings of a forest made of mushrooms the size of trees.

“They’re waiting for us up there,” Wild says, pointing at the mound ahead of them. “It was the best place to look-out the area. It’s how I spotted you escaping by the lake.”

Hyrule frowns and reevaluates the cliff-surrounded hill. It doesn’t look like you’d be able to see the lake from here, even from its highest point. But… Hyrule doesn’t question it. He just nods and follows along when Wild tugs his hand and begins leading towards the left where the grasslands continue in a steady incline up the cliff.

By the time they make it to the top, Hyrule feels like he can’t breathe. Wild lets him lean against a shattered ledge of rock for a few minutes to regain his energy; which also gives Hyrule enough time to look ahead. It’s a peninsula of cliffs on all sides, and the entire top of the formation is covered in cracked, scale-like rocks jutting out of the ground, making a difficult path to where a small grove of mushroom trees stand near a glowing blue shrine. On top of a particularly large mushroom tree is what looks to be a small wooden structure… where the light of lamps glow.

Once he feels like his chest isn’t on fire anymore, he nods his head at Wild, and Wild takes his hand once again to lead him over the still difficult terrain. To his left, the sun begins to rise, which almost tempts Hyrule to ask Wild how long he’s been captured exactly, as it's been very much just guess-work for Hyrule so far, but he doesn’t ask.

Not yet. He’s almost safe. With the others. Home. This whole thing is within his grasp at being over.

They enter the edge of the grove of mushroom trees, allowing Hyrule to notice a large, circular slab of something not quite rock, but not quite metallic popping out from the earth at the base of the largest of the trees. There’s glowing blue runes in the slab. Something in his stomach churns as he studies the slab, to the point he hardly notices himself letting go of Wild’s hand to stop and stare at it.

Something isn’t right here. It’s too quiet. Still. There’s no calling voices of the others, and when he tears his eyes away from the slab and looks to his right, he doesn’t see the lake or anywhere near it, just more cliffs blocking the view.

And just like that, something in his gut screams at him to run. He almost does, too, before his skull is practically exploding in pain. Something blunt and heavy hits the back of his head, throwing off his balance and knocking him to the floor groaning and clutching at his head. His fingers come away from his skull with red on his pads.

Then, a shoe slams into his stomach, reminding him of his injured ribs and rolling him onto his back, gasping. Above him stands Wild, smirking in a way that’s very much not Wild.

Sinister. Sadistic. None of his boundless empathy to be found.

“The Blood Moon rises soon,” Wild says, stepping forward and planting his foot on Hyrule’s stomach and pressing down, causing Hyrule to weakly squirm. As he talks more, his voice begins to change, into a voice that’s familiar in a whole new way. “You’re little attempt at escape only made it so we don’t have to drag you up here tomorrow. Just one more night now… then our master will return.”

With a cloud of talismans, the form of Wild disappears and is replaced by who can only be the one Yiga soldier that Hyrule hates the most.

A whole slew of emotions rushes into Hyrule. Anger, fear, betrayal, humiliation…

He hasn’t saved himself at all. Only made it easier for the enemy. He can do nothing but try to keep conscious through the pain of his injuries and the pressure in his gut as the soldier begins to wheeze in laughter. From above, where the wooden structure stands, drops more Yiga soldiers. The leader steps off from him, and Hyrule is quickly grabbed. His hands are forced behind his back and rope with the texture of sand-paper wraps around his wrists. Then, the same is done to his ankles. They drag him over to the nearest trunk, near the mysterious looking slab, and wrap the rope around his chest to pin his back against the base of the mushroom-tree. He bites back a cry as the ropes tighten around his injured ribs.

They handle him roughly, and kick his legs as they finish their knots and walk away, laughing.

“You see the way he held Sohgi’s hand the entire time?”

More laughter.

“Pathetic, little mouse.”

Hyrule closes his eyes, fighting pressure at the back of his eyes. He was never a threat to them… just a plaything. A weak little plaything to give them amusement until their Blood Moon arrives. They were right to not bother to watch their backs, nor keep an army of guards watching for his idiotic attempts at escape.

The only thing he can be sure of now is that his only chance at living through this is back to relying on the others, but even if they really are looking for him, judging by the lead Yiga’s words… Sohgi’s words… the words of a human with a human name… they would be looking at the wrong place. Wasting their efforts to find him in a hideout he’s not even at.

He’s doomed.

It’s all over now.

The tears escape his eyes and begin to stream down his cheeks.

He’s a failure, once again.

He’s… he’s so sorry… everyone.

[dabi-does-cocaine-fight-me]

Hallucinations

Dabi x Shigaraki One-Shot

Warnings: So ooc, bugs, slight gore if you squint really hard, swearing, rOmAnCe, fEeLs, omg cliché

Shigaraki strolled into the League of Villains’ bar, wiping the blood off his hands with a discarded, musty towel. His gaze swept over those present in the room, hidden by the obstructing hand on his face. Toga was sitting at one end of the bar with Spinner, giggling obnoxiously at his dramatic hero imitations. Twice perched on a barstool at the opposite end of the bar, staring sullenly into the distance while puffing leisurely on a cigarette. Meanwhile, Kurogiri stood behind the counter, polishing glasses in a dutiful, restless manner, while Dabi lounged on an old moth eaten couch. Across from him, Compress made a move on the chessboard the two shared.

All of them eyed Shigaraki as he stepped further into the room, clearing his throat to get their attention. The effect was immediate. Toga and Spinner fell silent, Twice came out of his trance, and Dabi’s posture straightened slightly.

“News, Tomura?” Mr. Compress questioned. Shigaraki’s head turned in his general direction and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“Different factions of the yakuza are still at war, competing for control now that they’ve removed Overhaul. One of the factions was delivering me a shipment of illegal drugs…I was expecting to use it to create more of those quirk destroying bullets, but it was intercepted by Ryukyu, Selkie and a few U.A. brats,” he reported in a bitter tone. He clearly wasn’t happy about how events had transpired.

“And all that blood on your hands, you slip and fall into Kool-Aid, boss?” Dabi snickered. Shigaraki turned to him and flexed his fingers, the unspoken threat apparent.

“How would you like to find out?” Tomura intoned quietly. Dabi scoffed, unfazed by the hostility.

“Well, you know, if you weren’t an insufferable dick and gave us straight answers…” he shrugged maladroitly. An unsteady and tense silence had fallen over the room, and everyone present was waiting to spring into action, should the need arise. Kurogiri inched closer, recalling the volatility present in the two’s previous encounters. Shigaraki and Dabi were continuing to stare at each other, Tomura’s demeanor calm and collected, Dabi’s wary yet relaxed. As they eyed each other quietly, Dabi realized Shigaraki was balancing all his weight on one leg and holding-no, more like nursing- his right arm. His gloves were absent. Tomura detected his examination and shot Dabi a nasty glare as their eyes met, daring him to say something. Kurogiri observed this interaction and decided it was time to step in, before things went any further.

“Tomura, where did all the blood come from?” he inquired, making sure to keep his tone level and to keep from sounding interrogating so as not to anger Tomura further. Shigaraki tore his gaze away from Dabi, muttering a response.

“One of the yakuza factions at war with the one I employed recognized me. Overhaul followers…one had a paralyzing quirk,” he seethed. It had hurt his pride immensely to have been surprised so easily, pinned so effortlessly, paralyzing quirk or no, and having that scarred idiot examining him only pissed him off worse. Kurogiri’s mist blew slightly, a draft from the open door causing him to dissipate and then reform as he spoke again.

“I see,” he soothed, “why don’t you go lie down, I’ll prepare you some food.”

Tomura nodded, looking rather beaten. He began to shuffle off to his room, Spinner and Twice both averting their gaze out of respect to their boss. Dabi sat thoughtfully on the couch, sweeping a hand through his hair as he rendered Compress checkmate.

~

A few hours later, Dabi was sauntering to his room in the evening, but as he passed Tomura’s room he heard muffled cursing. He turned around and rapped the door. The sounds quieted, and Tomura muttered gruffly for him to enter. Dabi obeyed, leaning against the doorframe.

“You okay in here?” he interrogated, already knowing the answer. Tomura was in bad shape. His food sat untouched, his laptop shut on the desk, no online gaming visible. He was sprawled on his bed, sweatshirt hood up, panting slightly.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, his face obscured by his hair in the dark of the room.

“Cut the bullshit handyman, what’s got you sitting on tacks?” Dabi shot back. Tomura huffed.

“Why the fuck would you care? Get out,” he barked. Dabi scoffed.

“No wonder no one wants to be around you. You’re so kind,” he murmured sarcastically, turning to leave. He was halfway to the door when Tomura spoke again.

“The attack….there were three people. One paralyzed me, another rendering me mute, I’m assuming those were their quirks…”

Dabi raised an eyebrow. “The third?” he questioned.

“The third…didn’t move until the other two started leaving…as they walked away, he threw something at me….I flinched, so I didn’t see what it was but I felt it hit me…like…worms eating into my brain. I didn’t think anything of it, because there were no unusual effects but now I…”

He trailed off, glancing at his food before quickly turning his gaze elsewhere once more. “When I try to eat the food is all…full of maggots, and mold. When I try to patch up my injuries from the encounter, all I see is…blood. So much blood…gushing, squirting, blood. Bugs. Lots of…”

He shuddered. “In the mirror…my nails turn to beetles and crawl away…my eyebrows, spiders…worms for-for lips. My gloves…they’re rats…”

His voice broke slightly, and he stopped speaking. Dabi sighed, observing him quietly. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that Shigaraki was trembling, his knees pulled up to his chest. He was scared. The kind of fear that you know is irrational, but it’s bone-chilling anyway. He knew that fear, he felt it roll through his body, consuming his thoughts every time he heard his father’s footsteps near his bedroom door when he was a small child. Something inside him tugged at his consciousness, telling him to comfort the man in front of him. He gave into it, strolling over to Shigaraki and perching hesitantly next to him on the corner of the bed. He clenched his fist, opening it to reveal a small, flickering blue flame.

“Focus on it,” he suggested quietly, softly nudging Shigaraki with his shoulder. Shigaraki turned his head, hyper fixating on the fire, anxious for his mind to be anywhere but on the events of the day and their effects. After a while, he sighed softly.

“Thank you, Dabi,” he murmured, looking up at the raven-haired male. His shivering had eased, and he felt slightly calmer. Dabi noticed the hand wasn’t on his face, as usual, and was surprised by how red Shigaraki’s eyes were. He’d been crying, for a long while. Dabi nodded.

“Anything for you, boss man,” he replied truthfully. He may act abrasive towards Shigaraki, but there was a fondness for him, somewhere deep inside. Shigaraki had accepted him, however slowly, and had given him a place to stay, a family, somewhere he belonged. Maybe that platonic feeling of respect and devotion had turned into something else…something more serious. Seized by a sudden inexplicable urge, he tucked a small portion of Shigaraki’s hair behind his ear. The smaller male turned to him, a soft vulnerable in his eyes that Dabi had never seen before. It made Shigaraki seem…almost fragile. Dabi slid his thumb over a scar on the man’s cheek, frowning slightly. Two imperfect beings, two scarred, broken creatures, adapted to the circumstances of the cruelty they were subject to…so perfect. Almost poetic, how they were frozen together in anarchy, yet the world kept spinning on its axis around them. And they were safe. Safe from it all, because, all though unspoken, now, they had each other.

He never thought Shigaraki would be so soft, so fragile, so carefully built. He wanted to accept Shigaraki as a part of him, to take him in, take his bones, his flesh, his mind and make the two of them one. To protect him through anything and everything, always. He’d break himself to keep Shigaraki intact, he’d never let the world touch him again. When his thought process broke, he looked up, only to find Shigaraki’s face mere inches from his own. The blue haired male exhaled slightly through his lips and Dabi could feel it on his own. Unconsciously, his tongue darted out to wet them.

“Why are you such an ass to me?” Shigaraki questioned bluntly. The flame in Dabi’s palm flickered once, twice, and blew itself out.

“I’m…afraid of what I feel.” The hand that had been holding the flame came to rest on his upper thigh.

“What do you feel?” Shigaraki asked, a note of gentle yet earnest curiosity in his voice. Dabi licked his lips once more, swallowing heavily. Shigaraki seemed much too close…

“Tell me,” he whispered when Dabi failed to answer. Dabi hesitated, visibly struggling before leaning in to capture Tomura’s lips in a gentle, tender kiss. Shigaraki gasped softly, but didn’t pull away, instead lifting his hand to hold the back of Dabi’s neck, pulling him closer. Finally. Finally, they both thought. Shigaraki’s hand came up to brush the stubble on Dabi’s jaw gently, and they were no longer aware of the passage of time. The stars whirled, the sun rose and set, a million years passed, and it made no difference. Their souls merged, never to be torn apart. They pulled away as one, exhaled as one. Their gazes caught each other, holding each other in a silent embrace, one that said everything…and nothing. They never left that place, that space of eternal bliss, where for once, everything was right.

THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE I’M SO SORRY- If you like this story, drop a request for part two, and if you like my work so far, send a request in for another story!! Remember to name the characters (or if an x reader story, who you wish to be paired with) and a situation I can build on; i.e hanging out at the mall. I love all of you, regardless of whom you are and I hope you all have a wonderful October!!

[kippykasey]

Grace - Chapter 5: Hydra

Pairing: Howard Stark x F!Reader , Bucky x Reader [Eventually]

Word Count: 3522

Series Summary: A young nurse is recruited by Dr. Abraham Erskine to join the SSR to assist on Project Rebirth. Following her work with the SSR she is drafted into the US Army Nurse Corps in the war against the Nazis...and HYDRA.

Chapter Warnings: violence, torture, bad things because Hydra

Author's Note: Surprise?! I wasn't even expecting to get this done but I literally just finished and thought, eh why not. So here it is! Also I hate hurting my characters so this was a bit eh to write but I hope all is well!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the gifs they are either found on google or under the gif tag provided by tumblr. Any language other than English was translated using Google Translator, and translations will be posted in bolden italics after. I am not a nurse or in the medical field although I may do some research medical treatment written may not be correct.

Grace Masterlist | Snowdrop Masterlist | Masterlist

Pain. A throbbing, harsh pain echoed through my head from the temple. The throbbing beat opposite that of my heart. The second thing I noticed was how cold and damp it was. After battling with my body to force open my eyes I squint through the dimly lit room. A deep voice spoke in another language… German it was German but my head hurt too much for me to understand it. Seconds passed before I realized that I was sitting on the ground in a cell. The door opened and two men walked in flanked by four additional soldiers than the one that had been watching me.

“Ah Fräulein (L/n) glad you have finally woken up.” Miss.

“Who are you?” I cursed how weak my voice sounded at that moment. Though the man didn’t seem to find me a threat of escape as he spoke. “Johann Schmidt. You see we have a common acquaintance… or, well, had.” The grin he wore made my stomach drop and he didn’t need to verbally admit it for me to realize this is the man behind Abraham’s death.

I raised my head in defiance and although it made the pounding in my head worsen I pushed myself from the ground and stood within the cell. “You’re after the serum.”

“Ah, clever girl. You were Abraham’s assistant when he made the serum.” The second, much shorter man spoke. “Fault in your plans. I don’t know how to make the serum.” Schmidt smiled at me and it took all my self control not to shiver from his intense look. “I was hoping you would say that,” His eyes turned off me to the soldiers. “Bring sie zum Stuhl. Probiere es an ihr aus. Vielleicht wird ein kleiner Elektroschock Ihr Gedächtnis auffrischen.” Take her to the chair. Try it out on her. Perhaps a bit of electroshock will refresh your memory. As Schmidt talked his head also turned towards the shorter man.

I could feel the blood drain from my face as I moved back against the wall. Three soldiers stepped towards the cell. One man opened the cell door before the other two stepped inside to detain me. I managed to elbow one in the face in my struggle but it was useless. The two soldiers dragged me from the cell, out of the room into a brighter lit hall. We were in some kind of warehouse. My eyes zeroed in on a chair that looked right out of a nightmare. Stronger hands forced me into the hard chair and held me down while I was struggling against someone’s attempts to strap me in. My struggling did nothing but get me a slap to the face. The strength of the slap disoriented me long enough for them to strap me in.

The shorter man who followed us now stood next to my head. I could see the reflection of myself in his glasses. “This is only going to hurt a lot, try to hold still.” He instructs lowering two plates down around my face. It was only a few short moments before the electricity forced its way into my head. I had no control over my body as it thrashed in the confines of the chair. An agonizing scream of pain carrying throughout the building went ignored.

That wasn’t my first time in the chair but it was the only time I had passed out in the chair. Spent 30 minutes in the chair 3 times a day, sometimes longer. After a week I had to start muttering things to myself in my cell so I didn’t forget who I was. The Nazi soldiers gave me the bare minimum to survive as far as water and nutrients goes. I cracked halfway through October. I gave the short scientist, Armin Zola, the list of what I would need before I was taken back to my cell after yet another time in the cell. I was given parchment and a pencil to write things down with but it kept coming in flashes.

Nights were the worst. Mouth dry from lack of water, eyes trained on an iron grate in the ceiling. I realized two weeks into my daily chair visits that I had forgotten my brother’s name. When I noticed it caused me to cry to sleep that night. So whenever I could I would mutter to myself facts I could remember starting with my name, rank, and where I was from. The list of facts got shorter every day. Somedays I remembered more than others. There were times all I could bring myself to do was hum Amazing Grace to myself to deal with the pain.

The first time I was in the lab I tried to escape. I was left with just one guard and I thought I could take him. I smashed a beaker using a shard like a knife. I ended up knocked unconscious, my hand bleeding from the self inflicted cuts caused by the makeshift weapon. From then on I was chained to the lab table and three soldiers kept watch. I wasn’t given anything to test the serum on. So I never tested unless I thought it would work because I used myself as a test subject.

I was unconscious for two days once from a failed serum. Others cause excruciating pain. Days came and went and I lost count of days but I knew it was still October. Yet a month was close to passing as November began to be discussed amongst soldiers around me. Pressure was placed on me to recreate the serum. Each day if I didn’t recreate the serum I was sent to the chair for the torturous electroshock. That is how I figured out I had been successful in a recreation. The serum, when tested, did nothing but make me drop to the lab floor in pain. I wasn’t even given time to recollect myself before being dragged off to the chair. I lasted longer in the chair than usual. I heard the instruction to increase the power. I don’t remember what happened after that.

It took me nearly half a day to recover, then as soon as I had I was back working in the lab. Suddenly I was pulled away from my work and escorted quickly back to my cell. “Neue Soldaten wurden gefangen genommen.” New soldiers have been captured. I pressed myself up against the bars for a chance, a glimpse at the soldiers being brought in.

It was silent as the Nazi Hydra soldiers dealt with the new poisoners. Suddenly two soldiers appeared with smiles on their faces. “Komm Mädchen. Zola und Schmidt wollen dich sehen.” Come girl. Zola and Schmidt want to see you. The soldiers yanked me up and practically dragged me to the room where the chair was. My body trembled involuntarily at the sight of the chair. It wasn’t me going in the chair, given someone was strapped in but given the uniform he was American. “Ah, here iz our lovely nurse. You’ve been asking for a test subject. Here you go.” Schmidt waved at the man strapped into the chair. The man lifted his head just barely and my heart went out to him. As soon as the hands left my arms I moved to the soldier in the chair. “What’s your name, soldier?”

“S’rg’nt Jam’s Barn’s,” His voice wasn’t clear but it was clear enough for me to understand what he said. The nurse turned to Zola and Schmidt. “I wasn’t done recreating the serum when you had me pulled from the lab. I will need time to work and he needs time to rest or the serum will kill him.” I tried to give him whatever comfort I could in those brief moments before we were pulled apart. His head rose just slightly and I caught a glimpse of stormy blue eyes as he was dragged out of the room.

I never got to return to my cell that night. As my eyes zoned in on the blue chemical mixture in front of me I felt a haze cloud my mind, it wasn’t abnormal to experience but I also felt like I was losing myself when it happened. Following my own written instructions I was able to continue my work. The only other thing I forced my mind to remember were two things.

I am First Lieutenant (Y/n) (L/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps. Soldier boy is Sergeant James Barnes.

The words became a mantra in the blank canvas my mind was currently in as I blindly worked by instructions of my very own that I don’t even remember writing. My body moved on auto pilot as I was taken to a crude looking examination room. In the center was soldier boy Sergeant James Barnes strapped to the table. As my mind raced to catch up with me, flashes of memories clouded my mind from when Steve Rogers got the serum, the explosion that followed, Dr. Erskine being shot. My body tensed at a passing memory of being in the chair passed through being replaced by the pain I felt giving myself the serum.

A hand pressed firmly in between my shoulder blades pushing me forward. I stumbled to the table catching myself with a hand on his arm. Wasn’t he wearing an army jacket before? My eyes landed on the serum filled syringe in my hands reminding me of what I was about to do. “First lieutenant (Y/n) (F/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps.. You are Sergeant James Barnes.. I’m sorry for what I am about to do. You’ll be okay. I’ve used it on myself. It will hurt.” My voice sounded so… robotic and monotone as I spoke to him. My hands pushing up his sleeve.

My hands worked from memory and out of second nature my mouth moved and the hymn fell from my lips. The melody of the song was the only comfort I could offer as I injected the poor man with the serum that would change his life forever. His eyes looked up at mine until the pain of the serum changing his body caused them to shut tightly. The leather restraints holding him in began to rip as he pulled against them. Discarding the empty syringe I tried to soothe him more but the second my hand touched his head I was shot with a sedative.

【☆】��【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Steve Rogers has dressed up performing on stage like a dancing monkey to sell war bonds since he was given the serum. His first time on foreign grounds and he was performing for soldiers he should have been fighting alongside of. All to be booed off the stage by disgruntled men who just wanted to see a pretty dame.

Steve finally looked away from the rain but not quite at Peggy, “At least he’s got me doing this. Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.” Blue eyes finally met the face of Agent Carter. “And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey? You were meant for more than this, you know.” Her wording might have been a bit rude but the point got across. There was a moment of silence between the two but Steve had this look to him. “What?” Peggy inquired.

The man was drawing in the rain when a familiar face popped up. “Hello, Steve.” Peggy Carter approached him from behind, making him turn from his drawing to greet her, “Hi.” She mimed his ‘hi’ back before laying her jacket down to sit on while Steve asked, “What are you doing here?” Peggy looked at Rogers and let out a small sigh, “Officially, I’m not here at all. That was quite a performance.”

Rogers looked away disappointed that she had caught the horrible show that happened earlier. “Yeah. I uh, I had to improvise a little bit. The crowds I’m used to are usually more, uh, twelve.” Steve explained looking out at the drenched ground and falling rain. “I understand you’re ‘America’s New Hope’.” Peggy states watching him. “Bond sales take a 10% bump in every state I visit.” Steve comments like a robot. “Is that Senator Brandt I hear?”

“You know for the longest time, I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines, serving my country. I finally got everything I wanted and I’m wearing tights.” Steve kept looking down at his journal then squinting out through the rain. A horn alarmed behind them as a medical vehicle slid to a stop in the mud. Medics ran from the infirmary tent to help unloaded soldiers on gurneys. “They look like they’ve been through hell.” Peggy turned back towards Rogers. “These men more than most.” Steve looked up at Peggy knowing she had more details. “Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men were there to back up an already injured fleet, they went up against him and less than 75 returned. Your audience contained what was left of the 107th and 34th.” Steve slowly turned his head feeling bad for the men who were lost but his attention snapped to Peggy at the mention of the divisions involved as she finished, “The rest were killed or captured.”

“The 107th?” The confirmation had him darting out into the rain, Peggy following holding her jacket over her head for coverage from the rain. The two ran all the way to the tent Colonel Phillips was sitting in signing condolence letters. “Colonel Phillips.” Steve called for the man’s attention as he approached. “Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?” The colonel responded looking up at the pair now standing in front of him. “I need the casualty list from Azzano.” The tone he used was definitely fitting for the role he plays on stage. Phillips however did not appreciate it. “You don’t get to give me orders, son.”

“I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.” Rogers responded un phased. Phillips pointed his pen at Peggy, “You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy.” Steve was insistent though and again requested the information he wanted, “Please tell me if he’s alive, sir. B-A-R..” “I can spell.” Phillips cut him off before muttering, “First Stark and now this.” He stood from the table and paged through the letters he just finished signing. “I have signed more of these condolence letters today that I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry. To the both of you.” Phillips looks from Rogers to Peggy and the woman knew he was referring to her friend from the 34th.”

“What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?” Rogers was something else, optimistic maybe. “Yeah, it’s called winning the war.” The look of disbelief that Steve sent the colonel as he spoke might have been the first red flag for Peggy Carter. “But if you know where they are, why not at least..” Phillips once again cut the man off, “They’re 30 miles behind the lines through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe.” Phillips was eyeing the spot on the map as he talked about it, even pointing the place out directly. “We’d lose more men than we’d save. But I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl.”

The colonels' dig at Roger’s lack of status didn’t seem to phase the man but it did fuel the plan he was formulating in his head while staring at the map, memorizing it. “I think I understand just fine.”

“Well, then understand it somewhere else. If I read the posters correctly, you got someplace to be in 30 minutes.” The colonel walked past him giving Rogers a very clear view of the map marking out exactly where he needed to go, and where he was. “Yes, sir. I do.” Perhaps the time staring at the map was the second red flag that Peggy noticed. As her eyes flickered between him and the map as he left the tent it all clicked into place and she hurried after the taller man.

“What do you plan to do, walk to Austria?” Peg asked as she entered the tent used as the changing room. “If that’s what it takes.” Steve answered not looking up from where he was struggling with boots. “You heard the Colonel. Your friend, and mine, are most likely dead.”

“You don’t know that.” Steve disagreed as he continued to get ready. “Even so, he’s devising a strategy. If he detects..” Steve cut her off as he put on a brown leather jacket, “By the time he’s done that, it could be too late.” He snatched up his bag and shield and headed for the exit. “Steve!” Peggy called following him to the vehicle he tossed his things into. The rain had stopped leaving the sun to rapidly evaporate the water leaving puffs of smoke in the air. Steve looked at the brunette in front of him. “You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”

“Every word.”

“Then you got to let me go.” Steve turned to get into the jeep and started the engine before Peggy was at the side. “I can do more than that.” She told him.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Peggy hadn’t lied. She got them a method of transport much faster than the jeep. Howard Stark sat in the pilot seat flying a plane with the slight chance his fiancée may still be alive. Stark was devastated when he first found out that the 34th was attacked and that only doubled when the attack at Azzano took out the 107th as well.

“The Hydra camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges.” Peggy infomed Rogers as she pointed to the map she was holding. “It’s a factory of some kind.” She gave him as much information as she could. “We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep.” Howard called over his shoulder.

“Just get me as close as you can.” Steve called back up to the pilot. He looked back over at the woman in front of him. “You know.. You two are gonna be in a lot of trouble when you land.” He was worried about her getting into trouble for him but she looked at him just as worried. “And you won’t?” Steve dismissed her worries, turning his head. “Where I’m going, if anyone yells at me, I can just shoot them.” There was a small click of a loaded gun.

“They will undoubtedly shoot back.” Peggy surmised. Steve turned to the shield he had been using on stage giving it a knock, “Well let's hope it’s good for something.” Steve turned back to her just as Howard called back, “Agent Carter? If we’re not in too much of a hurry, I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue.” Howard was teasing the agent, the smile on his face hidden from those being him. Peggy shifted in her seat choosing to ignore him and keep conversation going with Rogers. “Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen. He’s mad enough to brave this airspace. We’re lucky to have him.”

Steve however was still not fully over the comment Stark made. “So, are you two… do you…” There was an awkward pause as Steve thought of the proper way to ask if they were seeing each other by reusing Stark’s words, “..Fondue?” Stark tried not to laugh from the pilot’s seat as Peggy simply shook her head and handed him a device. “This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you.” Steve took a moment to look at the device now in his hand before calling up to Howard, “Are you sure this thing works?”

“It’s been tested more than you, pal.” Howard defended seconds before gunfire hit the side of the plane. The plane shook as bullets pelted the sides, shaking the aircraft from the force. Steve stood grabbing his shield and heading towards the door. That he opened. “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!” Peggy ordered yelling over the wind rushing into the plane. “As soon as I’m clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” Steve ordered back over the noise of the wind, gunfire, and the pinging of bullets on the plane.

“You can’t give me orders!” Peggy disagreed.

“The hell I can’t! I’m a Captain!” Steve looked over at her, giving her a smile that made her weak in the knees. He grabbed the goggles from his helmet, lowered them over his eyes and launched himself out of the plane. Peggy watched him fall towards the ground before the red fabric of his parachute was visible in the night sky from the flying bullets. Howard turned back as instructed by the Captain. Now all they could do was wait.

[steveezekiel]

BEING DISCERNING AS A LEADER

[Leadership style of Nehemiah 7]

1. Sanballat, Tobiah, Geshem the Arab, and the rest of our enemies found out that I had finished rebuilding the wall and that no gaps remained—though we had not yet set up the doors in the gates.

2. So Sanballat and Geshem sent a message asking me to meet them at one of the villages in the plain of Ono.

BUT I REALIZED THEY WERE PLOTTING TO HARM ME."

Nehemiah 6:1,2 (NLT)

• In Jesus' earthly Ministry:

"THEN Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness TO BE TEMPTED BY THE DEVIL" (Matthew 4:1 NKJV).

- God did allow or permit Him, Jesus, to be tempted, though the Son of God (Luke 4:1,2; Hebrews 5:8).

- You also should expect the tests, you would not be without one (Matthew 10:24,25; John 13:16).

- After the initial tests which the devil brought to Jesus, while fasting in the wilderness, he later came back when he had the opportunity:

"WHEN the devil had finished tempting Jesus, HE LEFT HIM UNTIL THE NEXT OPPORTUNITY CAME" (Luke 4:13 NLT).

• The devil would always come to test you, challenge you in your work, whenever he had the opportunity.

- Someone said, If you do not believe the devil exists, you should go ahead and start a Ministry—he will let you know that he does exist, and that he is real.

- The devil cannot but come to challenge you in the work of ministry. But he will always meet his Waterloo, a disappointment and defeat, If you knew how to handle him.

- Also, you should know, whatever the test may be, It always would lead to your promotion—if you do pass the test, and overcome the challenge.

- Nehemiah experienced continued opposition in the rebuilding of the wall of Jerusalem. The enemies of the Jews who opposed what Nehemiah was doing, plotted to harm him, when they saw that he was undeterred in his commitment to the work (Nehemiah 6:1,2).

- The plans of those who opposed or stood against him, were foiled because:

(i) Nehemiah did carry God along in all he was doing and was wholeheartedly committed to the assignment.

(ii) He did not give them any attention and credibility.

(iii) He committed everything to God in prayer.

- The enemies even planned on propaganda campaigns to malign his name before the King (Nehemiah 6:6,7). - They also hired some false prophets to give false prophecies to Nehemiah, in order to intimidate him:

10 AFTERWARDS I CAME TO THE HOUSE OF SHEMAIAH THE SON OF DELAIAH, the son of Mehetabel, WHO WAS A SECRET INFORMER; and he said, “Let us meet together in the house of God, within the temple, and let us close the doors of the temple, for they are coming to kill you; indeed, at night they will come to kill you.” 11 And I said, “Should such a man as I flee? And who is there such as I who would go into the temple to save his life? I will not go in!” 12 THEN I PERCEIVED THAT GOD HAD NOT SENT HIM AT ALL, BUT THAT HE PRONOUNCED THIS PROPHECY AGAINST ME BECAUSE TOBIAH AND SANBALLAT HAD HIRED HIM. 13 For this reason HE WAS HIRED, that I should be afraid and act that way and sin, so that they might have cause for an evil report, THAT THEY MIGHT REPROACH ME" (Nehemiah 6:10,13 NKJV).

"REMEMBER, O my God, all the evil things that Tobiah and Sanballat have done. And remember NOADIAH THE PROPHET AND ALL THE PROPHETS LIKE HER WHO HAVE TRIED TO INTIMIDATE ME."

Nehemiah 6:14 (NLT)

• Your success is a threat to the devil:

15 So on October 2 the wall was finished—just fifty-two days after we had begun. 16 When our enemies and the surrounding nations heard about it, THEY WERE FRIGHTENED AND HUMILIATED. THEY REALIZED THIS WORK HAD BEEN DONE WITH THE HELP OF OUR GOD" (Nehemiah 6:15,16 (NLT).

- The devil persecutes and intimidates you, because he is afraid of your success.

- The devil can read the signs, thus, he could perceive what God wanted to do through the vision given to you; therefore he does want to stop you.

- The enemies of the Jews were alarmed, frightened and humiliated, when they heard about the completion of the wall of Jerusalem.

• Note: As a leader and a minister, you must be aware of the fact that some people in your ministry are loyal to the devil—they are there as instruments of him, to short-circuit the flow or the move of God in the work.

(i) It is not everyone who comes to the church that has come to receive Blessings. Some are in the church as the devil's representatives, or instruments, to work against whatever you are instructed to do.

17 DURING those fifty-two days, MANY LETTERS WENT BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN TOBIAH AND THE NOBLES OF JUDAH.

18 FOR MANY IN JUDAH HAD SWORN ALLEGIANCE TO HIM because his father-in-law was Shecaniah son of Arah, and his son Jehohanan was married to the daughter of Meshullam son of Berekiah.

19 THEY kept telling me about Tobiah’s good deeds, AND THEN THEY TOLD HIM EVERYTHING I SAID. And TOBIAH KEPT SENDING THREATENING LETTERS TO INTIMIDATE ME."

Nehemiah 6:17-19 (NLT)

(ii) Some may be there in your ministry to fight your vision, and such would not want the fulfilment of the work.

(iii) Some are there to cause your derailment. If Jesus Christ who is our Lord, Master, could have one who is a devil, out of his Twelve apostles; It does mean it is not unlikely that you would have a couple of such—in your Ministry (John 6:70).

(iv) Some are busybodies in your ministry, yet, they would refuse to leave; they are strategically planted to discomfort you and cause you to derail.

(v) Thus, a Minister must be strong in prayer:

a. You will not be able to do much in the work of the Kingdom without Prayer (Luke 18:1; Ephesians 6:18; 1 Thessalonians 5:17).

b. Things are made happen in the ministry work through Prayer (Mark 9:29).

c. When you prayed, God will reveal the hearts of those who are NOT in agreement with what you are doing, yet, they are around you and refused to leave. Apostle Paul said: "... IN PERILS AMONG FALSE BRETHREN" (2 Corinthians 11:26).

d. Through prayer and communion with God, you will know those who are in your ministry to sabotage your efforts, and those who are there to work with you for the fulfillment of the vision (John 6:64,71; 13:11).

- It may amaze you that some of the people you trusted are betrayers, that is why you need to be discerning and sensitive.

• You will not fail in Jesus' name.

Peace!

TO BE CONTINUED

[amaranthinecanicular]

and the name for your order is

The guy snarls his order, and Kirishima is glad because clearly he's an unrepentant dick to everyone, not just Amajiki. It's easier to come to terms with than he thought it would be. “And your name?” he says, plucking a cup from the stack and uncapping the marker with his teeth.

“Who the fuck wants to know?” says the customer.

“Oh no,” says Kirishima, because oh no, he likes this guy. It's one of those sudden revelations that takes him by the throat and shakes him down. Who wants to know, he says, as though it wasn't obvious. Who wants to know. So absurdly aggressive it ends up amusing instead of intimidating. Endearing, even.

[My belated @fyeahbnha secret santa gift for @pointy-hat-witch! Please enjoy, and happy holidays!!!]

[Alternatively read on ao3.]

OCTOBER 

Fat Gum’s Café has a new customer.

Well. Not new, exactly. He's been showing up for the last two weeks or so but only on days Kirishima wasn’t working. The news shared by his coworkers more closely resemble war stories than work gossip, ranging exclusively from horrible to terrible. 

“He’s the scariest person I’ve ever met in my life,” says Amajiki.

“He’s like a sentient piece of crap rolled up in a garbage can and set on fire,” says Kaminari.

“He makes Give me a mocha double espresso sound like an order of execution,” says Amajiki.

“He’s rude and violent and he has no honor,” says Tetsutetsu.

“If he’s not actually a demon sent from the depths of hell to torture me specifically I would be very surprised,” says Amajiki. Most of the stories are from Amajiki.

Kirishima is dying to meet him, in part to defend his friends’ honor and in part to put a face to the legend. Luckily, the start of the new quarter means new classes at new times, and that means new work hours. What was originally a Tuesday-Thursday-Friday-Sunday schedule shifts to a Monday-Wednesday-Saturday schedule. Kirishima feels bad about that. He likes the coffee shop, likes his coworkers, likes his boss. If he could ace his tests and help out at Fat Gum’s every day he would, but he can't. His grades are dragging.

On the bright side, he meets their local celebrity, like, immediately.

It’s his first Saturday on the job. He knows it’s about to go down when he finds Amajiki attempting to assimilate himself into the storage closet. 

“He's back,” says Amajiki, doing an excellent impression of coffee grounds quaking in fear. “If I have to deal with him again I'll die, I'll just die. Tell Mirio and Hadou I said goodbye. I'm sorry, Kirishima-kun, I can't do it.”

Poor guy. Amajiki is convinced this dude is terrorizing him deliberately, which Kirishima sincerely hopes isn't true. Anyone who would go out of their way to frighten serious, hardworking, anxious Amajiki must be a monster.

As if to punctuate this point, someone out at the front begins to brutalize the counter bell. To be fair, they really shouldn't leave it unmanned.

“Don't sweat it, senpai,” Kirishima says. He doesn't give Amajiki the manly clap to the shoulder that he wants to—Amajiki isn't so good with physical contact from anyone other than Togata or Hadou. “I'll handle the problem customer.”

Amajiki peeks at Kirishima through coffee filters and the dark wedge of his fringe. “You—you mean it?” 

“Sure do. I like a challenge.”

He flashes his brightest smile. Amajiki squints a little at the force of it. 

:

Kirishima is honestly surprised that the poor bell isn’t dented by the time he comes to its rescue. 

“About fucking time,” says the problem customer. He's got riotous blond hair and a scowl on his face like it's been carved there. There's a grenade logo sprayed on his baggy black tee, which makes sense, because one look at this guy brings to mind the word explosive.

“How may I help you, sir?” says Kirishima, with deliberate pep. Impossibly, impressively, the scowl cuts deeper. Like an attack—like he's never not on the offensive. That's fine. Kirishima’s smile will be his armor. 

The guy snarls his order, and Kirishima is glad because clearly he's an unrepentant dick to everyone, not just Amajiki. It's easier to come to terms with than he thought it would be. “And your name?” he says, plucking a cup from the stack and uncapping the marker with his teeth.

“Who the fuck wants to know?” says the customer.

“Oh no,” says Kirishima, because oh no, he likes this guy. It's one of those sudden revelations that takes him by the throat and shakes him down. Who wants to know, he says, as though it wasn't obvious. Who wants to know. So absurdly aggressive it ends up amusing instead of intimidating. Endearing, even.

Kirishima spits the cap out of his mouth. “I want to know. For your order, man.”

The problem customer narrows his eyes as though to peer through Kirishima’s question to the ulterior motives behind it, which is insane, since there are no ulterior motives to be found in the absolutely routine procedure of a coffee shop. Cheerfully oblivious seems to be getting under his skin, so Kirishima leans into it. “What if I forget who asked for the mocha double espresso?”

The customer rolls his eyes. He rolls his eyes violently. “Right, because I'm real fucking forgettable.”

“You could be.” The look he gets for that is entirely worth breaking the Customer Is Always Right creed. “We get a lot of traffic, man, it’s nothing personal.”

The customer braces himself on the counter and leans into Kirishima’s space. Instinct hooks in his spine and tries to reel him back a step or two, but he hardens his resolve into stone and ties it to his feet, weighs himself down, refuses to budge.

“You'll remember me,” the customer says. A promise like a threat, and for the first time in the duration of this exchange Kirishima feels seen by him. Acknowledged. It's the same feeling as scoring well on a test, or making a sad friend laugh. Hard-won and worth it. Kirishima can't stop the grin from breaking onto his face so he doesn't try to.

“Sure I will. I like you.”

And the look he gets for that, well, that's priceless.

“So that name?”

“Fuck off.” 

The guy recovers fast, that's for sure. Kirishima watches him skulk to the serving counter where he roots himself like a particularly irritable tree and barks at anyone who gets too close. The next customer gets an extra punch in her punch card for the wait, and when the guy's order is up, Kirishima is ready with a sharpie in hand. Amajiki has ventured back out to help with orders, steadfastly avoiding anything problem-customer-related, but he blanches when he sees what Kirishima is scribbling on the cup. “Are you insane? Do you have a death wish? Should I be getting you help?”

“Trust me,” Kirishima says. He caps the coffee and walks it to its rightful owner. “One mocha double espresso for Mr. Unforgettable.”

The guy snatches the cup. He stomps off without another word.

Thirty seconds later he stomps right back. 

“Blasty McSplode?”

Amajiki ducks under the counter. Kirishima, in the process of taking another order, smiles wide enough to cramp his cheeks.

“Hey! Back already?”

“Blasty Mc-Fucking-Splode?”

“You wouldn't give me your name. I had to take a stab at it myself. Was I close?”

“I'll show you taking a stab—”

Blasty rants and raves for a full minute, splashing mocha just about everywhere, until finally Fat Gum himself ambles out of his office to gently shoo him from the shop. Kirishima waves at him around Fat Gum’s bulk. Blasty waves his middle finger in response. When Fat Gum comes back in he raises an eyebrow at Kirishima, which, yeah, he definitely deserves, but he also passes a heavy hand through his carefully gelled hair to show that he's not really mad. Kirishima fixes his hair as best he can while Amajiki climbs out from under the counter.

“I can't believe he didn't kill you for that,” he says, his voice buffed by awe.

Kirishima gives the next customer's punch card an extra punch too. Hell, he gives her two extra punches. Why not? He's in a great mood.

:

Two days later Blasty stalks in and Kirishima can't believe his good fortune. He calls out a greeting from across the cafe and gets a glare in response, but that glare holds, a few seconds of extended eye contact, long enough to stay in Kirishima’s belly after it's ended and flutter there.

Blasty growls his order. Kirishima asks for his name. Blasty tells him to go die and Kirishima scribbles Lord Explosion Murder on the cup. He's rewarded with a snort of amusement.

“Did you see that?” he gushes to Kaminari, after Blasty has left. “He totally laughed! He liked it!”

“I saw it I saw it ow stop hitting me!” Kaminari rubs the place on his shoulder that Kirishima had been slapping repeatedly. “I dunno, man. That sounded more like a scoff to me.”

Nah, he's pretty sure he was amused.

:

The next time he comes in, after the requisite exchange (“Your name for the order?” “Eat a dick,” “Cool cool I think I'd get fired if I wrote that but cool,”) Kirishima writes King Explosion Murder on the side of the cup. 

“Better,” Blasty huffs.

Kirishima feels like cloud-walking for the rest of the day. Kaminari isn’t on shift, but when Kirishima texts him, he texts back: “I stand corrected. When are you asking him out?”

“All in due time,” Kirishima promises his phone.

:

NOVEMBER

Blasty’s schedule: 

He shows up Monday mornings, rumpled by sleep and grouchier than usual, before he heads off to class. Wednesday evenings he drinks and studies until closing time. Saturday afternoons he sits at the window with a bento. Coincidentally these are the three days and times that Kirishima is on duty. And it must be coincidental, because if it's not then that means that Blasty memorized his schedule and molded his life accordingly, learned to fit him in, looks forward to seeing him three days out of the week. Kirishima may be an optimist, but he's not delusional. He knows how dangerous a daydream like that can be. 

He’s probably just here because it’s a good place to study. And there must be an exam coming up, because lately he’s been showing up with even more books than usual, and suitcases under his eyes instead of bags. He’s crabbier, too, which Kirishima didn’t think was possible and is honestly impressed by. By this point he has unofficially become the only one willing to serve him, but this wild-eyed evolution of Problem Customer into Demon Customer From Hell just clinches it.

“Maybe you should take a break,” Kirishima says, when he brings over Blasty’s third espresso in as many hours. It’s Saturday, usually Blasty’s day to sit and gaze out the window with one of his more pensive death glares, but today he’s entombed himself in a mountain of notes and textbooks. Kirishima nudges aside a few notebooks to make room for the cup.

“Maybe you should go fuck yourself with a rake,” says Blasty, without looking up from the violent strokes of his pen. “Touch my stuff again and I’ll kill you myself, shitty hair.” 

Watching from behind the counter, Amajiki wheezes with secondhand horror. Kirishima peers at the crowded table. “Hey, where’s your bento?”

Blasty slams his pen down. “Was I not clear enough, you moron? Fuck off! Leave me alone!”

Kirishima raises his hands in surrender. Blasty’s mouth opens as if to say something else, but nothing comes out. Maybe he’s realized he’s gone a step too far. They stare at each other for a beat, and then his jaw snaps shut. He jerks his head back to his books and Kirishima retreats to the counter. 

“He can’t speak to you like that,” Amajiki says, suddenly stern. He’s always braver on someone else’s account. “I’ll tell Fat Gum, he’ll understand. We don’t have to serve him. You don’t have to take his abuse.”

“The guy’s under a lot of stress,” Kirishima says. It’s overindulgent even for him, but when he glances over his shoulder he sees Blasty wrench his gaze away. “And I think he feels bad.”

Amajiki obviously doesn’t think so, but he says nothing more, which Kirishima appreciates. By closing time Blasty is the only customer left in the shop, still hunched over his books and writing furiously. Kirishima has given him his space, and he hasn’t asked for another coffee. Amajiki is still angry enough to go tell him they’re closing—he’ll even be properly intimidating about it—but Kirishima stops him.

“I’ll lock up,” he offers. Amajiki’s look of disapproval is a blow to Kirishima’s pride, but he stands firm. So Fatgum leaves, and Amajiki leaves, with a sigh and a firm promise that he’ll be on standby if Kirishima needs anything, and then the place is empty and it’s just him, Blasty, and the scritching sound of his pen.

Kirishima takes his time. He cleans up and Blasty keeps studying. He locks the doors and Blasty keeps studying. He sits down at a table across the cafe and gets some of his own homework done, and Blasty keeps studying. Then he goes back to the machines, knowing he’ll have to clean them again, and whips up a special drink. When he’s done, he writes FIGHT ON! where the name should go.

“I don't want your fucking charity,” Blasty says as he sets it down. 

“You’ve accepted it so far,” Kirishima points out blandly, gesturing to the very obviously closed cafe. Before Blasty can bite his head off, he continues, “Anyway, don't think of it as charity. Think of it as…an investment.”

“Investment in what?” His eyes are narrowed and very red, both in the iris and the bloodshot sclera. 

Kirishima weighs the pros and cons of his next move and decides to go for it. He hazards a wink. “In my future best customer.”

Blasty is unimpressed. Like, fatally unimpressed. Like, it's impressive how unimpressed he looks. Aggressively deadpan. He has to practice that look in the mirror.

But he takes the cup, and when Kirishima peeks at him later, he's smirking at the sharpie message. 

:

Monday morning sees Blasty quiet and terse, but civil. Civil for him, anyway. Kaminari is disturbed.

“What did you do?” he hisses once Blasty bulls out of the shop. 

“Nothing.” Even if he barely met Kirishima’s eyes. Not promising.

“Did you fight?”

“No.”

“Did he turn you down?”

“No. Dude, nothing happened.”

Kaminari raises his hands. For a minute they work in silence.

“So if you didn’t get turned down, are you gonna ask him out soon?”

Kirishima hands off an order, and then lets his customer service smile drop. “Now isn’t a good time. I’ve got to give him some space.”

“Okay, but what about all your fortune favors the manly stuff? Isn’t that the reason you got this far in the first place?”

“How far is that? I still don’t know his name.” He can feel Kaminari’s eyes on him, and he tries to rally. Picks up his smile and pastes it back on. “Hey, enough about me. How’s it going with you and Shinsou?”

Kaminari lights up. For the next twenty minutes he regales Kirishima—and the whole cafe—with his loud and maudlin romantic woes, all he’s so hot the bags under his eyes should not be so hot and his dry sense of humor is so hard to read and I think he’s flirting with me but I thought that with Jirou and she and Momo still won’t let me live it down. 

Kirishima listens and laughs and offers advice, and he does his job, and he doesn’t think about his grumpy favorite customer even once. Really he doesn’t.

:

When Blasty comes in on Wednesday, he looks well rested. Kirishima waves before getting back to orders. This is apparently not good enough for Blasty, because he scowls at the people in line and then stalks over to the serving counter and proceeds to glare daggers, like he expects Kirishima to just up and abandon his work to attend to him. Like, yeah, he wants to, but it wouldn’t be right. Even if Blasty scares other customers away from the counter. And even if Kirishima is getting steadily more distracted the longer he stares. 

On the third order he messes up, Tetsutetsu intervenes. 

“Go on,” he sighs, nudging Kirishima aside as the next customer steps up. “Make it fast, bro.”

Kirishima promises him a meat bun after work and hurries over. “Hey. You’re looking better. Did you ace the test?”

“Obviously.”

“That’s great. Congratulations.”

There’s a stalled moment. Kirishima taps his fingers on the counter. Blasty is visibly grinding his molars.

“Cool, so I’m gonna get back to work, I’ll make you your regular—”

“Last week,” Blasty starts. He bites out each word. “Last week, I was.” He stops, lips pressed tight and bloodless.

“An asshole,” Kirishima supplies.

Blasty hums low in his throat. Or he growls. Either way it’s as close to an admission as Kirishima is going to get, and it clearly took a hilarious amount of self restraint for even that much. 

Blasty clears his throat and says, “That drink you made. What was in it?”

Kirishima is a little thrown by the shift. “Xoaxacl chocolate, a little chili powder. I thought you might like an extra kick.”

“It wasn’t half bad.” There’s color along the bridge of his nose. “I’ll take one of those.”

Maybe Kirishima had been more upset by Blasty’s behavior on Saturday than he thought, because now he feels loads lighter, any old hurts dissipating like clouds under the sun. He smiles, and Blasty blinks a lot, the color spreading to his cheeks and his ears and down his throat.

“One special order, comin’ right up!”

Kirishima turns around and reaches for a cup and marker. And then, behind him: “Bakugou Katsuki.”

He pauses. “Sorry?”

Blasty is rubbing roughly at his mouth. His whole face is glowing. “You heard me.”

“Bakugou,” says Kirishima, trying the taste on his tongue. Bakugou, full of plosives and hard consonants. “I love it. It suits you.”

Bakugou’s eyes snap wide, then narrow just as fast. “Why the fuck should I care what you think of my name? It doesn't need your approval, dipshit.”

When Kirishima is finished making his drink, Bakugou snatches it from his hand and whirls on his heel, a dramatic spray of foam following him out. Kirishima tingles where their fingers touched.

Then he watches Bakugou take a deep pull, and he has to go clean the latte machine before he’s murdered by the lethal and lovely line of Bakugou’s throat.

:

DECEMBER

“Y’know, I still don’t know what you study.”

“Probably because it’s none of your business.” 

“Right. Except how it kind of is literally my business, since I let you study here, in my place of work, after we’ve closed.”

This has become their ritual. On Saturdays Bakugou stay past closing, sometimes doing schoolwork, sometimes helping clean up, sometimes just chatting. He never stays past nine thirty—Kirishima has learned that he likes to turn in before ten every night, which is bizarrely adorable—but it doesn’t matter. Any amount of time with him is always going to feel like a blessing, and it’s never going to feel like enough.

“You’re not doing me any favors, shitty hair, get that thought out of your empty skull this instant.”

“Sure, sure.”

Kirishima finishes cleaning up. Once the last table is wiped down he sits heavily across from Bakugou, happy to finally be off his feet. His eyes feel swollen, too big for his skull. His grades have yet to pick up despite the extra hours of studying he’s been putting in. He presses his knuckles into his eyes for a moment of relief.

“I’m a med student.”

He blinks the colorless starbursts from his eyes. Bakugou, across from him, comes into focus: his head is still down, his gaze still fixed on his book. Sometimes he wears glasses, thick dark frames that Kirishima loves, and today is one of those days. He grins.

“No shit! You’re going to be a doctor?”

“A surgeon.” Some color rises in his ears; he looks pleased. Maybe because of how awed Kirishima sounds. But why wouldn’t he? Anyone working to help people is worthy of admiration, and manly as hell.

“Dude, that’s awesome. I’m studying to be a nurse.” 

The corner of Bakugou’s mouth twitches upward. “Nurses are badass.”

“I think so. You a doctor, me a nurse. I bet we’d make a good team.” 

Bakugou scoffs, even as pink starts to pool in his collarbones. Kirishima still doesn’t get why certain things make him flush, but he’s happy to learn. He rests his cheek in his hand and tries not to smile too dopily. “Y’know, for a med student you sure drink a lot of coffee. You know too much of this stuff is terrible for you, right?”

“I’m going to tell your boss you said that and get you fired.”

“That’s really not how it works.”

Bakugou’s glare is magnified by the glasses. He takes a long, aggressive sip of his drink—the strength it takes Kirishima not to burst out laughing is Herculean, truly, with the slurping and the deliberate eye contact and all, because only Bakugou could turn coffee into an intimidation tactic. Then he says, “Whatever. I'm invincible.”

Kirishima bursts out laughing. Bakugou grumbles beneath his breath, but his threats delight Kirishima more than they intimidate; Kirishima’s laughter seems to confound Bakugou more than it enrages. They're good for each other, is his sudden thought, and it thrills him.

He’s a little teary and a little breathless by the time he gets himself under control. Through the blurry smudge of his eyelashes he sees Bakugou. Then he’s breathless all over again.

Bakugou’s face—Kirishima wouldn’t say it softens. But there is a softness there, in his unsmiling mouth, in his brow, stern but smooth. He’s just—watching him, steadily. Intent. 

“Hey,” Kirishima says, and it’s easy, it’s so easy. “Make sure you come in on Christmas, alright? I get out early, and I want to ask you something.”

And maybe he expects Bakugou to fluster, or to scowl, or to demand to hear his question then and there. He doesn’t.

 “Fine,” he says, and he just keeps watching. Like he wouldn’t mind watching Kirishima forever.

Maybe Kirishima’s projecting a little.

:

Bakugou would probably tear him a new one for spreading the news around, but Kirishima is too excited to keep it to himself. 

“I’m happy for you,” says Amajiki, sounding worried but sincere.

“Congrats, man,” says Tetsutetsu, and then they have a celebratory arm wrestling match.   

Kaminari is a little more suspicious. “So you haven’t asked him out yet?” 

He’s standing on a stepladder, hanging Christmas decorations while Kirishima mans the counter. Bakugou has already stopped by for his morning coffee, and it’s been a slow morning since. The few people trickling in have been couples, sharing hot chocolate and slices of cake. Kirishima has spent an inordinate amount of time daydreaming about similar situations. In his head it’s usually a little less cozy and a little more explosive, but he likes it better that way.

“Technically no.” He tops the latte he’s working on with extra foam. “I asked him to come by on Christmas, and I’m going to ask him out then. I’ve got a plan.” 

Kaminari doesn’t need to know how nebulous said plan is. At the moment it includes things like Step One: Bribe With Spicy Food (Addendum: Can Christmas Cake Be Spicy?), Step Two: Sweep Bakugou Off His Feet, Step C: Profess Manly Adoration, Step N: Kiss Just Like, Wow, A Whole Bunch. The truth is he’s always been more of an in the moment kind of guy. But he likes Bakugou—he really, really likes Bakugou. He doesn’t want to screw everything up with an impulsive word or action. And if that means taking precautions he wouldn’t usually bother with, he’ll take them. 

“I dunno, man,” says Kaminari. “Midoriya and Momo are all about plans. You…not so much.”

Kirishima decides Kaminari knows him too well. “Any progress with Shinsou?”

That does the trick. Kaminari brightens like the bunch of LED Christmas lights in his arms. He practically swoons, the stepladder protesting beneath him. “Dude, you have no idea. I took a leaf out of your book, just asked him straight out, and lemme tell you I knew Hitoshi was hot but I’ve never seen anyone blush so cute in my whole damn life—”

He swoons a little too hard, arms wheeling, and Kirishima barely vaults the counter in time to catch him. There’s some polite applause from the handful of patrons in the shop. Kirishima and Kaminari bow, and then Fat Gum tells them to quit fooling and get back to work. 

Kirishima does not spend the rest of his shift thinking about how Kaminari called Shinsou Hitoshi. And he definitely does not think about calling Bakugou by his first name on Christmas. 

He does, however, scrawl Katsuki on no less than three to-go cups. 

:

Kirishima does not see Bakugou on Christmas. He does not see much of anyone, or anything, on Christmas. He can barely see his own hand in front of his face, which could be the delirium brought on by the fever or the copious amount of sweat rolling into his eyes, which is also brought on by the fever. 

As badly as he wants to push through the pain, not even he is hardheaded enough to try and drag his sorry carcass to work. It’s hard enough to drag his sorry carcass to the bathroom and back. He tries to text his coworkers (Tamaki? Kaminari? Tetsutetsu? He can’t recall who’s working today, so he texts all of them) and asks them to apologize to Bakugou, but the characters are swimming in his vision and he’s pretty sure the result is gibberish. Which means it’s over. He’s going to be laid up in bed for weeks, he’s going to fail his finals, and come next semester he’ll have a new class schedule, and he’ll never see Bakugou again. He’s blown it. Romance is dead.

Someone’s knocking on the door. He doesn’t answer it right away—it takes a minute for him to peel the rhythm of the pounding door from the pounding in his head. It takes a minute longer for him to stumble up and open it.

“You look like shit,” says Bakugou. He’s standing there looking like god’s gift to the earth, even scowling, even bundled in hat and scarf and mask, even laden down with groceries. Kirishima is pretty sure he’s hallucinating.

“Well? Are you letting me in or what?”

Kirishima lets him in. Bakugou toes out of his boots and then he plants himself in the middle of the room, jerking his head this way and that, taking it all in: the kitchenette-slash-living room, the card table turned dining table, the clashing red and hot pink interior design. “This place is a shitshow,” he declares. “No roommate?”

“She’s spending Christmas with friends.” More specifically, Mina had left last night with the implication that if Kirishima’s date went well he was free to come back to the apartment. There was a lot of obnoxious winking and innuendos. It was sweet of her, if a little mortifying and inappropriate, and in the end entirely wasted when he woke up with the mother of all migraines.

Bakugou drops the groceries on the table and starts shucking his outerwear. The hat, the scarf, the puffy coat. Kirishima sways in place and watches him. He’s wearing a red button down, and beneath that a black tee with the Punisher logo on it. It’s just a little bit dressier than his everyday attire. Is this what he would have worn on their date? If Kirishima had ever gotten to ask him properly? He sighs, forlorn.

Bakugou turns back to him, and they stare at each other. They keep staring at each other until Bakugou reaches past him to close the door, which was still hanging open over his shoulder. Whoops.

“God damn, you’re out of it. Get back to bed, loser.”

He cuffs him over the head, except it’s less of a cuff and more of a ruffle, exasperated and fond. So Kirishima totters back to bed. Hallucination or not, he’s happy to see Bakugou one last time. 

:

When he wakes up, it’s to the rich, earthy kinds of aromas he associates with home cooking, if not necessarily his home. His first thought is that Mina came home early, but she’s just as useless in the kitchen as he is. So either a burglar broke in to cook for him or he wasn’t having an incredibly vivid fever dream, as he’d previously assumed. Which means Bakugou is really, actually, truly in his home.

The door to his bedroom bangs open while he’s wrestling with the sweat-soaked sheets. Bakugou is armed to the teeth with soup, water, tea, pills, and towel, all laid out and puffing steam on a serving tray that Kirishima doesn’t remember owning. He raises an eyebrow at Kirishima’s ogling and knees him in the side.

“Sit up. You have to eat and rehydrate.”

The tray lands on Kirishima’s lap, and then the water and the pills are pushed into his hands. While he’s downing both, Bakugou makes a sour face at the state of his room, and bustles out to change the bedside wastebasket for a clean bag. Kirishima would be more humiliated if he weren’t so happy to see him at all. 

When Bakugou comes back he’s got a thermometer in one hand and the card table’s folding chair under an arm. He kicks the chair open, spins it around, and slings one leg over the side. He brandishes the thermometer like a weapon of war.

“Open.”

The thermometer jabs under Kirishima’s tongue. He winces only a little, and his voice comes out nasally and muffled and a little wondering. “I can’t believe you’re really real.”

 “What else would I be?” 

“I don’t know, a dream? A near death hallucination?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Shut up until I get your temperature.”

A few seconds later the thermometer chirps. Bakugou snaps it up and glares at it, and then something in his face relaxes.

“Barely a fever. You’ll live, moron.”

Kirishima asks, “How’d you know where I live?”

“Your dumbass coworker said you were sick. I threatened him bodily harm until he gave me your address.” Like it’s so obvious. Which, yeah, maybe it is. Probably Kaminari, who is both susceptible to Bakugou’s intimidation tactics and has been pushing for them to get together. When Bakugou snaps open the damp towel and starts mopping at Kirishima’s sweaty face, grumbling beneath his breath, he decides that he’s grateful. 

For the first time he’s realizing how silly his fever induced fears were. He might be down for the count for a few days, but he won’t miss his finals, even if he might fail them. And even if his schedule falls out of sync with Bakugou’s, it’s not like he’ll be gone forever. They have a mutual friend in Midoriya, as Kirishima learned recently. Or else he could just loiter around the cafe until they learn each other’s new schedules. This doesn’t have to be the end at all. Bakugou proved that by coming here.

“Sorry, Bakugou,” he croaks. “I really wanted to be there with you today. Was looking forward to it all week.” 

Bakugou dismisses him with a roll of his eyes. He folds his arms across the back of the chair and rests his chin on them. “So? What happened?” 

“End of the semester. Bad grades. Finals.” He waves a vague hand to encompass the studying and the stress and the lack of sleep. It probably didn’t help that he ran himself into the ground trying to justify a night off with Bakugou, though he doubts that comes across with his flappy wrist.

“Guess it all caught up to me.” He spoons some soup into his mouth. “Oh my god, this is delicious. You made this?”

“I’m great at everything, obviously.” His mask twists with a frown. “You’re having trouble in school?”

“’M not a genius like you.” 

“It’s not about being a genius, it’s about studying habits. You need someone to quiz you, keep you on task.” A pause, nearly short enough to be casual. “I’ll do it.”

Kirishima lowers the bowl he had been tipping over for the last of the broth. “You?”

“What, you think I can’t? I’ll be the best damn tutor you’ve ever seen, shitty hair.” Another pause. This one is more thoughtful.

“What?” says Kirishima.

Bakugou shakes his head. His voice has dropped to a low rumble in his chest. “Never seen you with your hair down. You should chuck all your gel, it’s not so shitty like this.”

“Didn’t think I’d have company to put it up for. I’d have to flip upside down to do it right, I probably would have passed out and died.”

Bakugou snorts. “You’d think a nurse would take better care of himself.”

Kirishima snorts back, with a little more phlegm. “You’d think a doctor would have better bedside manner.”

All of a sudden Bakugou’s scowl is a little less—scowly, than it usually is. More searching. More intense. Their eyes meet for a second too long and it’s like someone is pouring nitroglycerin down the column of Kirishima’s spine.

“Sounds like you want to know more about my bedside manner.” 

He’s smirking, and there are so many things—so many things—that Kirishima could say to that. Things that would be smart or things that would be manly or things that would be safe. So many things. 

His fever speaks for him. “Well, if you’re offering.”

The smirk falls away and that intensity comes roaring back. Kirishima’s insides ignite. Bakugou rises slowly and doesn’t once blink, and his chair scrapes on the floor, and Kirishima has the thought I hope that doesn’t scratch the wood— 

Then Bakugou is kissing him. The rough weave of his mask and the heat of his mouth behind it, like a brand. His open eyes. His hand cradling the curve of Kirishima’s skull. It’s overwhelming and it’s nothing at all, less of a kiss than a touch, less of a touch than a promise. Kirishima clutches at him because he’ll fall away otherwise, he’s hungry and dizzy and unmoored, and he’s got one hand clenched in Bakugou’s shirt and one in his hair and it’s soft, how is it so soft? His heart lurches in his chest.

No no no, not his heart. “Bakugou, back up, I—oh shit—”

He pulls away and flops over the side of the bed, unable to see if his hail mary aim for the wastebasket came through. Only once he’s done tossing his guts does he register the steadying arm around his shoulders. The hand pushing back his hair. It’s warm and square and dry, with callouses on every finger. 

“You’re disgusting,” Bakugou says from somewhere above him. He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh.

“You’re the one who just kissed a sick man. What does that make you?”

“Magnanimous as fuck.”

Kirishima laughs. It hurts every part of him, but it’s good. It’s really good.

“I really like you, Bakugou. Like a lot.” 

It comes out so easy, just like that day in the cafe. He’s still half upside down and his mouth is still sour. Bakugou’s hand is still in his hair. Through the damp red locks that escape his grip Kirishima can see him, and for the first time since they met, he looks starry-eyed. It is the most amazing feeling in the world, even when Bakugou blinks the stars away and glowers. 

“Is that why you wanted me to come by the cafe today? I already knew that, dipshit.” 

His voice is dismissive and mocking, but his hand is still in Kirishima’s hair, and his collarbones have flooded pink. It’s just like Bakugou to flirt and kiss him within an inch of his life only to get shy about a little sincerity. 

“Yeah. That’s all I wanted to say. I was hoping we could go out and, I don’t know, look at Christmas lights. Bake a cake together. Pelt each other with snowballs or something. I like you a lot.” 

Bakugou helps him sit up. At his urging Kirishima rinses his mouth with water and then sips some of the tea. It’s lemony and sweet.

Bakugou demands, “What took you so long? I don’t like idiots who beat around the bush, Kirishima. Didn’t think you were like that.”

Kirishima. He doesn’t think he ever wants anyone else to say his name. “Yeah, Kaminari said the same thing. But I didn’t want to mess things up with you.”

“So you decided to be a dumbass? How’d that work out for you?”

He mulls it over. “The guy I like is seeing me half dead, so that’s embarrassing. On the other hand, the guy I like is taking care of me while I’m sick, which is pretty sweet. Net gain, I think.” He’s heartened by the amused squint of Bakugou’s eyes. “So? Want to go out with me?”

For a long moment, Bakugou doesn’t say anything. He just watches, steady, intent, and his hand weaves slow, thoughtless paths through Kirishima’s hair. Kirishima has never been in love before, but he thinks this must be it. He can’t imagine anything else hurting quite so sweetly. 

“I’m not dating anyone while I’m still in school,” Bakugou says. “That would be fucking stupid.”

“Okay. After med school is residency, right? You think you’ll be dating then?”

Bakugou’s expression isn’t starry-eyed anymore, but it’s pretty damn close. 

He says, “Stick around and find out.”

:

JANUARY

A new semester means a new schedule, and Kirishima’s does not match up with Bakugou’s even once. It’s a little bit of a bummer, sure, but he’ll survive.

The last customer of the day leaves the cafe two minutes to closing. Kirishima sighs, cracks his neck, and starts prepping the last drink of the day. He sets it on the counter and then he starts wiping down tables, and when the clock strikes the hour, Kaminari goes to lock the doors.

They burst open before he gets there and Kaminari jumps two feet in the air and falls flat on his back. In strides Bakugou, and Kirishima’s heart flutters even as he stands back and cackles at Kaminari for a solid thirty seconds. 

“Kirishima,” Kaminari whines from the floor, “your boyfriend’s being mean to me!”

Bakugou kicks at him. “We’re not dating.” 

“Ha! Sure, and I’m not dating an insomniac with a fine ass—okay okay you’re not dating, quit kicking me!”

He does, but only after Kirishima scolds him and entices him away with a drink. He grabs it off the counter and passes it to Bakugou. Then he snatches it back.

“Forgot the name, just a sec!”

“You already know my name,” Bakugou groans, but he follows Kirishima behind the counter with barely a frown. “Hurry up, shitty hair, I don’t have all night to tutor your ass.”

“Tutor your ass,” Kaminari laughs from the floor. Bakugou growls.

Kirishima finds the marker and uncaps it. Before he can start to write, Bakugou threads their fingers together and squeezes hard.

“I can’t write your name with my left hand, Bakugou.”

Bakugou hooks his chin over Kirishima’s shoulder. “Sounds like a you problem.”

Well, Kirishima likes a challenge. The final result is messy, but legible. He garnishes it with a heart. “Here.”

“Stupid,” Bakugou huffs, but he accepts the cup and takes a swig. Then he yanks Kirishima toward the exit, where Kaminari is finally peeling himself off the floor.

“We’re still on for Saturday, right?” he asks, dusting himself off. “Double--”

“If you say double date, I’ll set you on fire,” says Bakugou. “And only if shitty hair here passes his test with flying colors.”

Kaminari endeavors to look contrite--his face wasn’t really built for it--but when Bakugou’s back is turned, he shoots Kirishima a subtle thumbs up and mouths double date. Kirishima returns the favor.

Out on the street it’s cold and biting. Bakugou hisses, and takes another gulp of his drink. Kirishima watches him glance at the name on the side of the cup again. If he pointed out the color in his cheeks he knows Bakugou would say it was the cold, or the heat of the drink, and then he’d punch him for good measure. But Kirishima can see his smile, hard-won and worth it. He can see how he passes a thumb over the shaky black characters, over and over: Katsuki.

:

[12timetraveler]

I’m so sorry about your pupper, I really hope the pain she is in eases soon. To hopefully distract you from that though can I get some cuddle head cannons from the men and women in the camp. :)

I left these in my queue for later so these have been there since like... October? November?

Simbrah is doing better. Well... shes losing a lot of hair still. But she seems to be feeling a lot better so I’m hoping we’re on the upward trend

Anyway, cuddle HCs

Arthur

~ Arthur, sweet, touch starved man that he is, absolutely LOVES cuddles. 

~ I mean LOVES them. 

~ Any time you’re alone together, he’s pulling you close and cuddling with you. 

~ Sometimes you think you’d need a crowbar to pry yourself from this man’s grasp. 

~ Fortunately, since you love snuggles just as much, you aren’t that desperate to escape his embrace.

~ On the subject of cuddles in private, you and Arthur are in agreement. 

~ Its when you get to PDA that things differ a little bit. 

~ some of the gang tease Arthur when they see the two of you cuddling next to the camp fire. 

~ Suddenly Arthur is bashful, and doesn’t seem to even want to hold your hand. 

~ you slowly try to bring him around, get him to touch you when in public. 

~ it’s only when Micah tells him how disgusting it is that the two of you cuddle in public that he seems to snap out of it. 

~ now he won’t let you go in public either, if only to irritate the hell out of Micah. 

~ sometimes when you’re having a rough go you just walk up to him and hold him, maybe even sit on his lap.

~ he immediately puts down what he was doing and just holds you

doesn’t matter what he’s doing. if you need cuddles badly, you’ll get them

Charles

~ I Hc that Charles’ love language is touch

~ So I think he’s just as cuddly as you are

~ Any time you’re near each other, hes grabbing your hand

~ resting his hand in your back pocket (If you wear trousers)

~ forehead kisses

~ random hugs

~ in the evening, when you’re both winding down for the night, his arms are around you

~ he’ll pull you into his lap and hold you close

~ Just hold you. 

~ if he gets too cuddly and you need him to stop, he will of course respect your boundaries. 

~ but honestly you’re just as cuddly, and so it doesn’t happen often. 

~ Charles is a big, beefy guy. 

~ he loves falling asleep with you fully on top of him, pinning him securely between you and the dirt. 

~ he holds you close, makes sure the blanket is securely around you so you stay warm

~ but he will be out like a light the moment you settle in on top of him. 

Javier

~ Javier is the king of random cuddles. 

~ I’m not sure touch would be his love language, but when he finds out its yours, and that you need lots of cuddles

~ the man will not go a single day without holding you at least once. 

~ you’ll be chopping vegetables for Pearson, and Javier’s arms will snake around your waist from behind. 

~ he sees you drinking coffee in the morning, he comes and stands alongside you and rests his hand on your waist. 

~ he’s always happy to hold you close

~ he’s not ashamed of pda, but he does try to keep it a little more minimal. 

~ He’s not shy about embarrassing you though, and if he can see you’re feeling down, he’ll have you in his arms, nipping at your neck and blowing raspberries on your skin until you’re laughing and leaning into his embrace. 

~ Sometimes, when you’ve had a bad day and need cuddles, but Javier is on guard duty, you’ll go stand with him. 

~ You don’t have to say anything, just come up alongside him and rest your head on his shoulder. 

~ His arm will be around you in an instant, holding you firmly against him while he keeps guard. 

~ The two of you can stand like that for hours if need be. He’s still doing his job, still keeping an eye out for intruders, but keeping you close. 

John

~ John is definitely more flustered by your need for cuddles. 

~ he’s not really sure what to make of it at first. 

~ he’ll always give you a hug, pat your back

~ but he’s a little too shy to really snuggle with you.

~ he just ain’t used to it. 

~ give him some time though. He’ll figure it out

~ Definitely not comfortable with pda though. 

~ he’ll hold you in his arms in his tent all day and night if you need

~ but he gets super shy if you ask for cuddles in camp. 

~ He will sit next to you at the campfire. 

~ put an arm around your shoulders

~ quick pecks on the cheek or forehead. 

~ but he’ll never be the type to pull you into his lap and hold you tightly if others are around. 

~ But the man is touch starved all the same

~ so he adores those private moments in your tent

~ loves pulling your body tight against his

~ nuzzles his head against your chest

~ nearly cries when you caress his cheek. 

~ you could not pry that boy off of you if you tried. 

~ only the threat of Mrs. Grimshaw barging into your tent looking for you forces him to let you go each morning. 

~ John swears he’s never slept better than he does in your arms. 

Hosea

~ Hosea certainly appreciates the need for a good cuddle. 

~ he’s maybe not as clingy as you are

~ and his love language is probably words of affirmation

~ but he’s more than happy to wrap an arm around you while he reads his paper. 

~ Let you sit on his lap while he’s grinding herbs 

~ rest your head on his shoulder while he’s writing in his journal. 

~ After he and Dutch get into an argument is when he needs a cuddle back. 

~ something about holding you is so soothing

~ so when he’s ready to toss Dutch into the lake, he’ll find you and pull you close. 

~ he’s not going to waste his time being embarrassed by your cuddly affections. 

~ Life is too damn short to spend time worry about what others will think

~ especially when it comes to your loved ones

~ he’ll spend every moment he can with you.

~ Definitely loves holding you in his sleep

~ He’s more of a back sleeper, and his lungs are too weak to let you spend the whole night with his chest as a pillow

~ but he’s more than happy to let you nuzzle into his side and rest your head on his arm.

~ or sometimes he’ll spoon you, burying his face in your neck as you sleep. 

~ Hosea doesn’t have a private tent, so pda is really his only option. 

~ but any time anyone tries giving him any shit about being cuddly.

~ he’ll just bluntly ask which of them is in a relationship, and actually has a woman to hold and love. 

~ shuts them up pretty good. 

Dutch

~ Dutch is not the cuddliest man in the world. 

~ he’s too stressed out, too busy. 

~ begging for his attention isn’t going to get you anywhere. 

~ what will work is listening to him. 

~ the man has the weight of 20 lives on his shoulders. Of course he needs to talk things out now and then. 

~ it’s not even about getting your advice or opinions. He just needs to talk outloud. 

~ If you can sit and listen to him, let him talk things over outloud without feeling foolish, then he’ll be more prepared to give you all the cuddles you need. 

~ not in public of course. 

~ Aside from an arm around your waist, the occasional quick kiss, he can’t be seen participating in pda

~ he has to keep up an appearance. 

~ but at night, behind closed curtains, he’s all yours. 

~ he does love feeling needed like this, something easy he can do for you that doesn’t involve energy or planning or grand words. 

~ he finds it very relaxing to cuddle up with you in the evenings

~ It helps his mind unwind and he falls asleep faster when you’re holding him and he’s holding you. 

~ he especially enjoys when your arms drape around his neck and your fingers idly play with the curls on his neck as you cuddle. 

~ or when he subtly slips down to rest his head against your chest as he drifts off to sleep. 

Kieran

~ Listen the boy is so touch starved and so in need of snuggles that he wont even know what to do with himself. 

~ The first time you even hug him he freezes. 

~ Kieran.exe is broken. 

~ the first time you fall asleep snuggled against him he actually cries

~ like oh my god you are so cute and soft and warm and what are you doing with him?

~ honestly, you’re going to have to initiate most of the cuddling. 

~ he’s too damn scared. 

~ worried he’s being clingy. 

~ but if you start coming up behind him while hes working and giving him hugs, he wil melt. 

~ he’s not afraid of pda when you initiate. 

~ “They already mock me. May as well be over something good,” 

~ If you’re having a bad day and really need some cuddles, he’ll drop everything. 

~ walk over to the scout fire where he’s cleaning tack and gently push the tack. 

~ he’ll set it aside, looking up at you questioningly. 

~ if you straddle his lap and bury your face in his neck, just needing to be held

~ Kieran will hold you close and never let go. 

~ seriously, he will sleep in the dirt with you on top of him that night. He’s not letting you go. 

Bill

~ Okay but Bill might actually be needier than you are when it comes to cuddles.

~ he’s prickly on the outside, but once you’ve broken through that outer shell

~ the man is a cuddle bug. 

~ touch starved as hell. 

~ Now he will never be okay with pda. 

~ he gets way too flustered. 

~ and he’s too scared of the others teasing him

~ he’s okay with a soft kiss and a quick hug when he’s about to leave for a job. But that’s it. 

~ but once you’re curling up to go to sleep, oh the man will not be letting you go any time soon. 

~ now the two of you don’t really have a tent.

~ so maybe this technically counts as pda

~ but if anyone says anything, he’ll just say you got cold during the night, or some other bs like that. 

~ but he’s the one who pulled you close. 

~ if you’re having a bad day and need some cuddles, he’ll step out of camp with you and hold you close

~ sneak up behind him and hug him while he’s busy on guard duty. He will become putty in your arms.

Micah 

~ Micah definitely isn’t one for pda

~ and he always has a comment when you randomly come up to him and cuddle up against him. 

~ But in the end, if thats what you need, he’ll be there. 

~ he’s surprisingly warm

~ and his shoulder is actually quite soft. 

~ while he’s not the king of cuddling, there’s nothing that’ll calm his temper faster.

~ if he and Arthur just got into a big thing

~ or if a job went wrong

~ or he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed

~ feeling your arms slide around his middle and your face press against his back is a surefire way to make him smile

~ it’s the only time he won’t have anything to say

~ no sarcastic remarks. 

~ he’ll just lean back against you and let you hold him.

~ everyone knows you like cuddles, so Micah can save face if anyone says anything by saying you just wanted some cuddles. 

~ But you both know you were really doing it for him that time to calm him down.

 Sadie

~ will only initiate the cuddles if you’re having a bad day.

~ if she catches you outside of camp crying

~ or sees you sitting by yourself

~ you’re going to be cuddled to death. 

~ but the rest of the time, she’s not the one to initiate

~ you have to nuzzle up to her

~ rest your head in her lap

~ hug her arm while she’s on guard duty.

~ but any time you do she’ll just smile at you

~ kiss your forehead

~ and hold you back.

Karen

~ Very soft

~ She’s not overly affectionate

~ if you get too clingy she’s likely gonna shake you off.

~ but she doesn’t hate cuddles

~ and if you need some cuddles, Karens are Q U A L I T Y

~ big boobs = comfy pillow

~ she’ll pull you close and let you rest your head on her chest

~ stroke your hair

~ maybe hum you a song. 

Albert Mason

~ Okay Albert

~ fucking

~ LOVES CUDDLES

~ He’s not nearly as touch starved as our outlaw boys

~ I mean, he’s still touch starved, but not quite so severely. 

~ he does get flustered easily, so use your pda sparingly

~ you don’t want to set off his anxiety. 

~ but once you get into bed with him, the man will NOT let you go

~ he’s gonna hold you forever

~ seriously I hope you don’t need to pee in the night or anything

~ you ain't getting out of his grip any time soon

~ surprisingly strong 

~ loves sitting out on top of a cliff with you and just holding you while you watch nature

~ take him out to see a sunrise or a sunset

~ Find a valley with lots of deer

~ take him there and just sit with him and watch nature

~ if you’re having a bad day

~ be prepared for A BILLION kisses

~ like all over

~ he’s going to hold you close and smother your in affection

~ make sure you know just how much you’re loved

~ The cuddliest man in the world ngl

Flaco

~ very touch starved

~ just contact starved in general

~ just know, if you let him hold you

~ he ain’t ever letting you go

~ he’ll make some excuse about needing to keep you warm

~ it’s bullshit. 

~ come back from a job and immediately sit down on his lap and wrap your arms around him if you want to see his brain malfunction. 

~ he’s practically squeeing at your adorableness. 

~ honestly Flaco is the perfect match for a cuddler. 

~ he ain’t afraid of pda either

~ you’re practically always on his arm, pressed up against him.

~ honestly it just feeds his ego

~ makes him feel powerful

~ he’s seen too much to let pride overshadow love

~ he just wants you close

~ spends a lot less time sharpening wood into a spike

~ a lot more time just holding you

[genuflectx]

Axiom’s End

This is a little review of an AMAZING book I just finished reading that exophilia lovers (and just sci-fi lovers in general) may enjoy to get in on, if not already! 

Parts of this review will have spoilers, but I will place the spoilery review under a cut (though some basic plot premises are discussed before the cut, they are not major spoilers)! So if you want a quick review read on, and for the more detailed spoilery review check under the cut. It includes a small snip of one page of the book to hopefully entice you.

When it comes to books my search for truly engaging alien novels has been... a waste of time at best. And this story here simply didn’t pop up under my searches for, er, alien human romance novels, so you likely won’t find it by searching that either. I only discovered it by seeing the sparse fanart of it on Tumblr, which made me read it’s synopsis on wikipedia and wonder how on EARTH I had not come across this yet, as a terato blog.

So, Axiom’s End is a first contact story, but it is character driven, and all the characters (especially the main cast) are emotional and well developed. However I have a warning some may want to heed; it is existential and is aware of it. If you can’t handle a heavy feeling of dread, which several chapters tend to exude, might not be the story for you.

Do you like creepy, deathly still dragon-insect-robots with questionable morals staring you down? Ohhh boy, I sure do. The main alien character, Ampersand, and his species, are not humanoid. They are in the sense of having two arms two legs two eyes, etc, but otherwise are distinctly different and alien and- did I mention Ampersand is 9 feet tall? And some of his species are even taller? Woof. There aren’t any re-colored humans with four arms and a six pack here.

Through the story the main human Cora plays as Ampersand’s interpreter, being the only one who has the means to understand him. That means they are required to be rather... close. The juxtaposition between her human inflections and idea of ethics greatly clashes with Ampersand’s own blunt way of speaking and concept of right or wrong. When you’ve lived so many hundreds of years and have advanced nearly beyond comprehension that’ll do it to ya. How she and the alien get along and what the talk about is something I’ll leave under the cut. All you need to know is I friggin’ loved it. Best thing yet, book 2 comes out this October and is open for preorder!!

NOW, SPOILER TIME:

^ Random page of the book of Cora and Ampersand speaking. ^

Ellis wanted to make this species nearly incomprehensible to human values, and god did she do it, and somehow even managed to do it while still making you love-hate them. Ampersand (and by extension his people) are so clinical and “logical” that they will lie by omission and not say sorry when found out, because if it benefited him why should he? Though we don’t dig into the other aliens’ personalities much, so I’ll focus on Amper.

Ampersand is hundreds and hundreds of years old, living through torture, surviving an alien planet, suffering the feeling of death when Cefo killed himself (and, later, when the 2nd one dies). He is, beneath a cold exterior, damaged and emotional, perhaps at first even attempting to pretend he wasn’t (through cold indifference) until Cora challenged him. He is manipulative, a walking contradiction, and at the end of it all, hiding his vulnerability. As an example, at one part closer to the end he lashes out when Cora is angry at him, and later expresses, to the best of his species abilities, a regret for his anger. So he KNOWS he has emotional flaws, but doesn’t start really admitting them till maybe ehh 75% into the book, roughly.

As we move through the story he goes from being so afraid of Cora that he keeps a ten foot distance and freezes when she looks at him, to not needing to be told twice before curling up beside her on a hospital bed. Even if he didn’t see humans as persons, he clearly did not want the planet to be destroyed by his people, and that does show a level of empathy for humans outside of Cora. Or... it could all be coldly logical to him (humans pose no real threat, thus, it would be illogical to warrant a genocide of the Earth- or is that just what he might tell himself?).

As you read you’ll begin to feel like Cora. The back and forth feeling of wanting to know more, of wanting to apply humanity to Ampersand and his people, but then getting ice water in your face when his actions remind you that he is in no way human. We may never fully understand the depth or shallowness of his empathy, and perhaps the closest thing comes in his immediate response to Cora of I do value you and his carefulness with petting her to comfort her. Though, even then, this statement does not express clear cut emotion. “Value” to Ampersand is not “value” to a human. Is she valued as a thing/asset or as a person? 

Also to make this clear since you came all this way for spoilers. Though I don’t know just how deeply it goes, or how synonymous it is to human romantic relationships, Cora and Ampersand become a thing by the end. The closest they could come to a romantic relationship, at least, with Ampersand bonding to Cora and snuggling up with her on a bed. 

I yap about Ampersand enough (he’s cool but not the only main character!!). Cora has her own traumas and issues outside of Ampersand. I imagine they will be expanded further in the second book, as in the first book her family trauma is mostly directed around she and her aunt. She had feelings and painful memories of her father, but in book 1 her father is a distant person, affecting the course of the story but she’s too far away (and busy) to have the means to confront him. And the rest of her family are in custody till the end, leaving them as a motivation for Cora, though nothing she can deal with immediately due to their distance. So while she has a LOT to go through book one is very alien-focused, with parts dedicated to Cora and her aunt, and her father as a far-off figure who changes the story but is never directly there in front of Cora. However, with the synopsis of book 2 already out, it’s clear her father may become even more of a plot point, with Cora being made to meet Nils’s informant.

Not only do I love this story as a terato fan, but it’s the only book I have devoured in three days. It kept me wanting to know what would happen next because I was so attached to everyone. Ellis is very thorough and this world is huge- a cumulation of a 10 year old story she’s had, only come to fruition in 2020. I CANNOT wait for book two! It comes out THIS OCTOBER and I will absolutely be pre-ording it!!

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

Spirit

@jabs-wocks​ made a comment about being in the mood for some angst and @justlookatthosesausages​ was talking about some post F2 ending/altered canon stuff the other day so I was inspired. I also wanted to make it October prompt-esque, so this one was about the word ‘Spirit’, which eventually just became the title

Edit: Also tumblr mobile? Hate you my guy, you literally deleted the entire text as I posted it, I saw you do it, so I’m here on my desktop. [Sigh] So here’s take 2.

-----

Perhaps life would never go back to normal in Arendelle. Though, how could it? The discovery of a decades long secret? The realization that the country they loved so dearly was capable of cruelty? And what to do with the Northuldra? Unite in shared blood despite history? Make reparations but go separate ways?

These are the questions that loom over Elsa and Anna in the weeks after their adventure to the Enchanted Forest.

Despite requests to stay, Elsa did return to Arendelle. Considering the circumstances, the Northuldra didn’t take offense, and welcomed her whenever she could take time away to visit and learn. But Anna sees how the days wore on her sister, rushing this way and that, rarely ever pausing to rest.

Which isn’t new, Anna sighs, watching as Elsa sets down her quill and leaves the office, closing the door behind her. A small squeak comes from the floor and Anna sees poor Bruni plop back down after launching himself towards the gap in the doorway. He’d been a second too late.

“Aww, are you okay?” Anna kneels down to check on him. “You’ll have to forgive her, she’s got a lot on her mind.”

Bruni chirps again, giving Anna a smile and an excited pitter-patter of feet. “Oh, of course,” Anna nods, “I should have known you’d already forgiven her. A wise and powerful spirit.”

The little salamander sparks magenta flame at the praise and darts away, wiggling himself under the door and scampering after Elsa.

Though the Enchanted Forest was many miles away, the spirits are often around, and have complete freedom to roam Arendelle castle. When they visit they spend the most time around the two Fifth Spirits, acknowledging Anna as one of their own. Some are more confined than others however: the Nokk could not leave the water without Elsa’s help, but it was a pleasant enough companion to sit with by the fjord.

Anna finds the Nokk there now, observing the ships coming and going.

“It’s nice isn’t it?” Anna asks. The Nokk turns it’s watery head her way, snorting a greeting. “I used to watch them from my window all the time.” Anna takes a seat next to the horse who is lounging on the sand, where the surf laps at the shore. “I’ll bet you used to watch ships come and go near Ahtohallan, before the Forest closed up.” She brings her chin to her knees. The sea washes against the spirit’s body, absorbed at regular intervals to swirl around it’s flank and belly. “Maybe without the Mist you would have seen my parents’.”

The Nokk glances up at her, attentive. Anna gazes back, trying to find answers in it’s bright blue eyes. “Would you have saved them?” The Nokk’s ear flicks but it’s expression doesn’t change. Anna chuckles to herself. “From the stories Elsa told, perhaps you wouldn’t have. You were trapped and angry and scared in the Forest. Maybe you would have seen them as just one more threat.”

A whiny is her reply, and while Anna may still be learning about the Nokk, she’s been around flesh and blood horses enough to know that the creature in front of her does look a little remorseful.

“It’s alright, I don’t blame you.” Anna leans back and looks skyward, at the clouds racing overhead. “And I know that you would now, even if we’re both uncertain of back then. Elsa may have been at the reins, but from what I heard, it was you that sped faster than a tidal wave to make it back here before Arendelle was destroyed. And your power that helped her hold the water back. I will always be grateful to you for saving my… our home.”

The Nokk lowers it’s head and rests it near her knee, letting out a long sigh that sends ripples across the shallow waves and scatters sand towards her hands. This time, it’s eyes search hers.

Anna takes pity on the spirit. “It’s okay. You couldn’t be in two places at once. Besides,” she emphasized, “you hadn’t met me yet and the dam was in the opposite direction of Arendelle. How were you to know?”

A raising of voices sounds over the wall, a commotion in the courtyard.

“Kristoff must be back,” Anna says, rising. “I should make sure everything’s alright.” The Nokk blinks slowly in farewell and dissolves back into the sea.

She was right - Kristoff had returned. As Anna enters the gates she spies Sven already being fed and watered by an enthusiastic Olaf. The reindeer looks tired, no doubt riding hard to get back before sundown. Even the proximity of Olaf’s carrot nose doesn’t seem to perk him up.

And though it was Sven who’d done all the running, Kristoff is the one who looks the most weary. He and Elsa are deep in conversation as Anna approaches, and while she’s not yet close enough to hear, she can see by the slump in his shoulders that he’s not happy.

Ever since they returned from the Forest, Kristoff has volunteered his time connecting with the Northuldra, helping them however they needed as they adjusted to life free of the Mist. Additionally, he began serving as Arendelle’s unofficial ambassador when Elsa couldn’t be around herself. At first Elsa had tried to dissuade him, saying he needed to recover from his own experiences in the Forest, that he didn’t need to serve Arendelle in a capacity he wasn’t comfortable with. He just laughed and tugged on his sash, saying, “Well you never know, Elsa. They might just be my family too.”

The travels were clearly wearing on him, but Kristoff seemed to want to keep moving, keep occupied, always doing something with his feet and his hands.

But Anna doesn’t miss the way he sinks gratefully into Elsa’s warm embrace. Doesn’t miss the way they hug tight. How Elsa disappears behind his broad shoulder, taking a moment to hide in it’s shadow. How Kristoff’s hands pull her close, as though to remind him of something.

“It will be dark soon,” Anna hears Kristoff say as they separate. Elsa turns her head to the west, then up into the hills.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” Elsa says without looking back. Kristoff nods and steps back.

A horse, already prepared, is brought to Elsa which she mounts and steers towards the gates. She’s about to leave when Kristoff calls her name softly from the ground. “Elsa?” Anna is nearly level with them now, but pauses at his tone. “It’s okay if you’re late. We… we understand. Just,” he shuffles on his feet before laying a hand on the horse’s side and meeting her eye. “Take care of yourself, promise?”

Elsa’s eyes glisten for a moment before she nods. “I’ve made a lot of promises recently,” she replies, her voice strained. “But I’ll keep this one.”

She flicks the reins and departs. Kristoff doesn’t linger either, heading back into the castle with Olaf and Sven.

Anna looks between the two groups: at the rapidly disappearing back of her sister and at the somber march of the three heading home. She puts her hands on her hips.

“Honestly,” she huffs, “no one around here knows how to take a break!”

She hears a chittering whistle above her head. Laughter, strange for certain, but a sound Anna has come to love.

“Glad you agree, Gale,” Anna smiles as Gale weaves around her clothes in greeting. Another glance tells Anna that Kristoff and the others were nearly inside. Elsa on the other hand had vanished as soon as she left town. Anna bites her lip as Gale swirls pensively around her. “I know I should probably check on Kristoff but… he does have Sven and Olaf. He- he’ll be alright, for now.” She points a finger at Gale, “But remind me, okay? If I forget that’s on you.”

Gale titters in a way that can only be sarcastic, but it only makes Anna grin wider. “Sure, sure, if I really do forget then I’ll let you toss me up and down in a whirlwind until I remember. But I think you forget that I’ve gotten pretty good at coasting your wind. It won’t be like the first time.”

At this Gale slows, almost bashful, and presses into Anna’s cheek like a cat. “It’s alright! You were just being cautious! Protecting the Forest and all. Geez,” she blew a little air of her own at the wind spirit, making it chitter that laugh again. “What’s with you spirits? So sentimental.”

She sizes up the rest of the courtyard. The horsekeeper is heading in now that his job is over, and the rest of the animals were locked away. Gale races forward, toying with a latch to one of the horse stables.

“No!” Anna reprimands. “I don’t need to take a horse. And especially since-,” she falters. “Just… walk with me? It’ll be good to have someone to talk to.”

Gale floats for a moment, then heads back to tug on Anna’s sleeve, urging her forward. “Alright, alright!” Anna laughs breathlessly, letting herself be led. “I’m coming! Aren’t I the one who invited you?”

They don’t have to travel far, Anna knows where Elsa was heading.

The sun is a golden wedge on the mountain’s rocky sides, sending deep purple shadows towards the east. There’s a clearing in the forest up ahead, one Anna knows well. She passes Elsa’s horse, giving it a wide berth so as not to spook the timid creature.

She hears the sobs she expected, but the sound still cuts her, deeper than any sword.

Elsa is on her knees before the towering headstones of their parents. She hunches over herself, arms crossed against her chest, trying to contain, still, after all these years, the grief and sorrow that live inside her ribs. Her pale hair hangs over her face, which is only a few inches from the ground.

Today has been hard.

Anna knows that Elsa had likely started standing, likely started with talking. Talking until the emotions welled up like the tide, sloshing back and forth and knocking her off balance until something tipped and it all spilled out, scattering her words and knocking her legs out from underneath her.

Anna knows because she’s seen it before: the first, second, and third time Anna took Elsa to see their parent’s grave after the Thaw.

But Anna also knows that that isn’t why Elsa is here this time.

Anna approaches and gazes at the earth before her. It’s been well kept, but of course it has. Just enough time has passed for new grass to grow, despite the soft nip of winter at the end of the night. Gifts and decorations still adorn the site, fresh flowers, a stuffed reindeer, a whittled sunflower, and many, many Arendelle flags.

A sound comes Elsa then. Raw. Agonized. Keening.

Inhuman.

Inhuman in that no human being should ever sound like the weight of their despair is crushing them, breaking them, hollowing them out.

Anna is at her side immediately, and she knows, she knows what will happen but she can’t stop herself. The sight of her sister’s suffering sends trills through her very soul, un-ignorable.

She places a hand on Elsa’s shoulder, in comfort, and watches it go right through. Ethereal. Translucent.

Ghostly.

Elsa grieves in front of a third headstone in the clearing, one that bears Anna’s name, and continues to weep.

Anna finds no purchase on her sister’s form. She hasn’t since the first day she got back from the Forest. She walked those miles by herself, alone, the spirits gone or busy with the living. When she finally returned to Arendelle --after the damn, after the flood, after… the dark, dark waters-- she saw Elsa and Kristoff and ran forward. Forgetting herself, wanting only to greet them and love them.

They walked right through her embrace, like she wasn’t even there.

Because she wasn’t.

Bruni found her two days later, on the roof above Elsa’s room. Unwilling to stay too close but unable to tear herself away from her friends, her family.

Her life.

That the spirits could see her was a small comfort. Very, very small. But at least she wasn’t alone anymore. She’d had plenty of that.

Anna recoils as Elsa shudders through an exhale, her next breath wet and clogged and shallow. Snowflakes start to fall from the sky though there are no clouds, swirling and sticking to grass and fallen leaves. Elsa’s control is slipping, and Anna can’t take it anymore.

“Gale-,” Anna’s voice breaks. “Please...”

The wind spirit knows what she is asking.

It takes a few seconds, but soon leaves and soft grass stems swirl gently around Elsa’s body, dancing in air, pressing gently against her hands to coax them free of their white knuckled grieving. “Gale?” Elsa asks breathlessly, and Anna feels the need to cry herself. Her sister’s voice is hoarse and fragile. Weak like a fractured eggshell. Flower petals wipe away the tears that soak Elsa’s cheeks. Gale tips Elsa’s head up as more objects join the bobbing air current, drawn from the forest and hills beyond.

“What are you...?” Elsa begins, but as a shape takes form she gasps, fresh tears brimming in her eyes.

A simple crown weaves itself into creation before her. Sunflower petals interlace with stalks of wheat and flashes of red maple leaves, bound together with precision and care. The purple head of a crocus flower, the last of the year, or perhaps the first of the new, is the final piece added before the adornment floats toward Elsa’s head and settles atop her hair, as gentle as a mother’s hand.

Or a sister’s.

Recognition widens Elsa’s eyes and she whirls around, staggering upright on unsteady feet.

“Anna!?”

The desperation, the hope, rings out like glass on the brink of shattering. Anna feels her breath catch in her throat as her sister looks at her for the first time since the ice boat ferried her away down the side of a cliff. She reaches out like she did before, even takes a step forward.

Until she realizes Elsa’s eyes are still searching. Looking past her.

After a few moments where Elsa’s heart hammers in her chest and Anna’s tries to recall what that might be like, Elsa’s shoulders drop and it’s a folding, a shrinking, an inward sinking. She is smaller than Anna has ever seen her.

But...

Elsa takes the crocus flower from the crown, plucks a sunflower petal and a soft head of wheat, and with a careful weaving of her own she protects them in ice. Smaller, but no less special than the frozen star atop the Christmas tree years ago, and cradled with just as much care.

Elsa holds the creation to her chest and Anna feels Gale nestle around her shoulders.

Both sisters speak at the same time.

“Thank you. I love you. I miss you.”

[waywardnerd67]

My World, My Everything

Summary: She was everything to him. His entire world revolved around her, but a decision had to be made. He had a job to do and in making this decision he would save everything that meant the world to him. Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Angst/Fluff Word Count: 1899 Prompt: “All Our Own” -Radio Company (Lyrics are bold) A/N: This is for @atc74​ Collab Challenge Contest

His finger traced the worn edges of a small photo. The moment in which it was taken as fresh in his mind as if it had happened the day before. It was meant to be the most important day of his life and ended being one of the worst. Slipping the photo back into its spot held within his wallet taking one last, long look at it before closing it in place. Looking out over the dashboard of his car, Dean Winchester looked up into the darkening sky as the end came barreling his way.

October 29, 2005 - San Diego, California

Dean pulled into his normal parking spot at (Y/N)’s apartment building. It had been a few weeks since he last saw her. His case in New Orleans had taken a little longer than expected but now his plan was back on track. Before heading up to her place, he pulled out his phone hitting his dad’s number.

“Dad, when you get this call me. There’s something important I need to talk to about.”

Snapping the phone shut, he grabbed his bag and ran up the exterior stairs with his key in his hand. The door flew open just as he reached the top of the stairs. His eyes traveled the length of her curvy body marveling in her natural beauty. Her bright eyes matched the smile spreading across her face.

“Stop gawking and get your ass in here, Winchester.”

He jogged over and scooped her up holding her tightly, “I missed you pretty girl.”

Leaving (Y/N) had been the one of the hardest moments he had and finally pushed him to make a huge change in his life. Letting her go, Dean set his stuff near the door and kicked off his boots next to the black heels she must have worn to work that day. Seeing his stuff next to hers had his chest tightening with pure happiness.

Leaning against the counter he watched her cook as she told him all about her clients for the day. The only thought running through his mind was that this beautiful, successful business woman was all his. Instinctively he ran his hand over his right pocket of his jeans smiling softly as she continued to talk. Their dinner was simple and filled with laughter as Dean told her all about the voodoo case he had in New Orleans. The rest of their evening was filled with passionate love making and the most restful sleep Dean had in weeks.

Dean awoke to gentle kisses being pressed against his chest and shining eyes staring up at him. The corner of her lips curling into a smirk as he raised an eyebrow at her. One look from her had him pouncing and their morning began as their night had ended.

“Did you think about what we last spoke of?” (Y/N) was snuggled into his side with her leg draped over his waist.

He brushed his calloused fingertips against her soft skin, “Listen to yesterday long before the way it has become and it all came down to you.”

“And…?”

“I don't really know the way, played out stranger than it seemed. But what went down came true like an all day dream.” He pushed himself up as she propped herself up on her elbow.

Her eyes searched his eyes for the unspoken words he was holding deep within him, “Dean, it doesn’t have to be a dream. You’re twenty-six now and can make your own decisions. Especially when it comes to having a stable life.”

He ran one hand through his hair, “I don't wanna be the one to say it's wrong. When the heavens open and a new day comes along. I know I would rather be together alone in a big top circle and a world we can call our own. It's all our own.”

“Does that mean…” the sheet fell from her body as she sat up hope shining in her eyes.

“In a world we can call our own we'll find shelter, darling. Where I'll always promise to never let be. I’m here to stay.”

(Y/N) launched herself onto him kissing him wherever she could get her lips on, “Handsome, that is all I want is you here all the time. You have no idea how happy I am right now.”

“Well, you can show me how happy you are.” Dean laughed as she playfully smacked him.

She got up heading towards her bathroom, “Maybe I will if you join me for a shower.”

Dean was about to follow her when he heard his phone beep with a new voicemail, “I’ll be right there.”

He watched her go in closing the door behind her. Looking at his phone his body tensed as the missed number was his dad’s. Quickly dialing his voicemail he listened to the strange message.

“Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.”

There was EVP on the message which had panic tightening around his chest. He heard the shower turn on and his heart began to ache painfully. Pulling on his jeans his hand brushed against the small object that brought tears to his eyes. Getting dressed as quickly as he could, Dean grabbed his things then wrote out a note for (Y/N).

“I have to go. I love you, Dean.”

He shut the door as he heard (Y/N) called out to him. Running down the stairs and to his Baby, Dean took off like a bat out of hell. He knew the path all too well down to Palo Alto where his little brother, Sam, was going to college. It had been years since they last spoke but Dean always made a point to go find him from afar. Now, he needed his help in order to find their dad.

Present Day

Dean stood in front of his car alone facing the greatest threat the world had ever seen. Sam was back at the Bunker trying to figure out another way to save the world, but Dean knew it was pointless. This was his burden to bare. This was his destiny. Dying to save the world and his life was worth losing knowing that he was saving the world (Y/N) was living in. As he watched the dark clouds split open and a figure in a white suit emerging from them. Dean closed his eyes, the vision of (Y/N) clearly in his mind before opening them and heading straight for Chuck.

                                                          ***

(Y/N) was wrapped in her favorite blanket when the doorbell rang. A tall man, with long chestnut hair stood there. His eyes were bloodshot and tired looking. He was holding a small shoebox in his hands.

“May I help you?”

“Are you (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” His voice was hoarse as if he had been crying.

She nodded, “Yes I am.”

The man took a deep breath, “My name is Sam Winchester…”

Hearing the surname made her gasp, “You’re Dean’s little brother. W-Where is Dean?”

His hazel eyes connected with hers with tears in them, “D-Dean wanted you to have this when he… when he passed.”

(Y/N) stared at the box shaking her head, “No. N-No… he can’t be. Tell me, he’s around the corner or on his way. Don’t you dare tell me he’s gone!”

Sam held the box out to her, “I-I’m sorry, but I can’t. He sacrificed his life in order to save the world. He defeated God and defended all the people of this world. The only thing he made me promise to do is deliver this box to you.”

As she took a hold of the flimsy shoebox a blood curdling sob erupted from deep within her chest and her body gave out as she fell into Sam’s outstretched arms. He helped her inside to her couch as she let out all of her anguish knowing the world no longer had Dean Winchester in it. Sam sat with her until there were no more tears left for her to give.

“I’m s-sorry.”

He rubbed her back, wiping away his own tears, “No need to apologize. Would you mind if I stay while you open the box? I’ve been watching him carry this around since he came to get me from college. I’m curious what’s inside.”

She nodded her trembling hands taking the lid off. There were all kinds of trinkets from all his travels. A worn copy of her favorite book, Little Women, with his hand written notes. A small photo album with pictures of him throughout the years he was away from her. Seeing his piercing olive eyes and handsome face brought fresh tears down her cheeks. Then there was a small square box and an envelope. Within the box was a simple diamond ring, a soft gasp coming from her.

“Pretty girl, I know you probably hate me and you should. I had to leave. Not because of my dad or the job. I had to leave to keep you safe. There is nothing in this world more important to me than you being alive, safe, healthy. Even though the thought of you being with someone else tears my heart apart, I hope you found someone who loves you as much as I do. I want you to live a full and happy life.

If you’re reading this then Sam has kept his promise. I’m gone but the world is safe. Don’t be sad that I’m gone. There was no choice in the matter and no other way. I had to save the world in order to save you and that meant my death. (Y/N), I love you. You are my world, my everything. I wanted to give you this ring the morning I left. I kept hoping one day I might be lucky enough to give you this in person. Now, I want you to have it to remember that you were the only woman for me. I love you so much. Live a long, beautiful life. -Dean”

(Y/N) took the ring, slipping it onto her finger, more tears falling down her face, “Damn it Winchester, even in death you’re a charming son of a bitch.”

Sam started laughing and (Y/N) found herself joining him. They began telling stories about Dean to one another until the early hours of the morning. Exchanging phone numbers with promises to keep in touch, (Y/N) watched Sam drive away in the all too familiar black Impala. She looked up to the sky, a cool breeze whipping past her.

“Dean Winchester, if you can hear me then you get your ass back down here to me.” She closed her eyes praying that he would be in front of her when they opened.

                                                          ***

A thousand miles away, the Earth split open shaking the ground violently. A large hand grasped the edge of the opening pulling themselves up onto the dirt. Coughing and dry heaving until collapsing onto the ground. Catching their breath and getting up they made their way down the nearest road. Nearly an hour later, they entered a small gas station asking to use the phone.

“This is Sam.” The familiar voice brought a wave of emotions over them.

“Sammy, it’s me. I-I’m back.”

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[huihuiheart]

Goretober D12: No Way Home - Ateez

Ateez + Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Serial killer themes, stalker themes, murder, death, suicide, poison, explosion, heights, falling, beating, fights, guns, mauling, gore, blood, drowning, mentions of police and police reports, threats, mention of poison gas, hospitals, mentions of drugging.

Word Count: 5,221

Sitting in the hospital bed all you could do was stare at the copy of the police report they had left with you. Saying they’d return for it it tomorrow, but if you remembered anything to add it to the paper or to tell them. The problem wasn’t remembering, despite your head trauma, the problem was that you couldn’t forget. Looking down at the paper in your hands again, as best you could with one swollen eye anyways you felt sick once again as flashes from the evening filled your mind, and still the people who had found amusement in your torment were no where to be found.

You wanted to run. Hide. Wake up from this nightmare. Anything at all to make it disappear. You had no idea how to live with the events of that evening......

October 11th - 9:17 pm

“Dude that is the sketchiest haunted house invitation I have ever seen.....and that saying a lot, considering it’s literally for a haunted house.” Seonghwa teases Jongho over his little suggestion of activity for the night as your group started to walk up to the abandoned looking building, it looking a rickety four stories high. 

“There’s still three weeks to Halloween bud, we don’t have to do all the scary stuff right away.” You tease the youngest even more lightly pinching his cheek with a small laugh. 

Jongho pouts with a small whine, “Hey! It just seemed like something fun that everyone can do together. You all said you wanted to get out of the house more! If that meant you guys wanted to go clubbing you should have said so!” 

“It’s fine, we’re just messing with you.” Seonghwa assures ruffling his hair, everyone still laughing as we enter. You and Yeosang jumping as a secondary door drops behind the last of you looking almost like the iron gate of a castle. Putting your hand over your heart you let out a breathless laugh at being so easily spooked.

“If you’re gonna be that scared Tiny you can stick with me, I’m a certified human shield.” Yunho slips his arm around your shoulders, he’s chuckling deep in his chest, but a soft concerned look is on his face. 

“I think I’ll be fine. I just don’t expect things sometimes.” You assure him, yet move to take his hand in yours anyways to calm some of his concerns. You may not have been the youngest, but to the boys you were their Tiny. The one they had to protect. 

Looking around one the immediate area of what appeared to be an office hallway was lit up, trying the doors you could see they were all locked. With furrowed brows you and the boys looked around before moving to step into the darkness not knowing where else to go. Only lights flicked on down the path to illuminate the hallway, straight to an elevator who’s doors opened.

“Going up?” I voice echoed through the building sound system, the voice holding a twang to it. The sound nothing southern in nature, but instead almost shrill as if holding back a laugh of some sort. Seeing nowhere else to go and assuming this was just part of the aesthetic of the house you all trudged cautiously to the elevator, squeezing in together. Once the elevator stops you all get off into the room it opens to you before swiftly shutting and dropping down to where it could offer you no way out. The room lighting up to reveal 12 dishes of different fruits. 

You look at Jongho with furrowed brows before you make any move to go examine the food, “Jongho....out of curiosity...what exactly was the theme of this haunted house?”

Jongho pulls out the flyer and offers it to you, “I don’t know Spectacle de something or other...” He shrugs.

Looking over the flyer your eyes widen, “Jongho. It says Spectacle de Mort....that means Show of Death.”

“Show of Death is right! Cause now we’re live, and we’re in for quite the treat with nine of you here. This should give us entertainment for quite some time. You see this is no ordinary haunted house. This place was designed to haunt you, while amusing us and a whole live stream of viewers. Not with little frights though, that amusement passes too easy... No, here you’ll be risking your lives. Simple as that. You all work to complete the activity assigned until your numbers have decreased by at least one person before the next door is unlocked. That is the only way to get out of here.....oh and one more thing. If you don’t do the activity it’ll be much less entertaining for us, but we can kill all of you by flooding any room with a poisonous gas...though it would still me mildly entertaining considering it’s an hallucinogen too.”

Your heart sinks at the voice’s instructions, watching as Jongho pales shoulder’s slumping.

 “I never should have brought us here. It really was a bad idea and a sketchy haunted house flyer and I’m so stupid...” He mumbles before you pull him into your arms, trying to shush him softly, cooing into his ear.

“Shh, shh, Jongho you had no way of knowing. Besides we won’t even know if it’s a hoax or not until until we do something, so let’s just worry about that for now. Okay?” You rub his back gently guiding the way further into the room. Picking up the cue card of instructions to read it.

“One out of the twelve is poisoned. Chose wisely and take a bite, for one is the forbidden fruit.”

You and the boys looked around debating your options. Though if this was legitimate, then at least you each had even odds and no one would have to bear the guilt if something went wrong. Each of you carefully trying to pick a fruit and hoping this was some sick joke instead of reality. Hongjoong picking strawberries, Seonghwa oranges, Yunho kiwis, Yeosang apples, San pineapple, Mingi blueberries, Wooyoung pears, Jongho mangoes, and you picked grapes. Everyone second guessing the whole time until one by one you took a bite and could only wait and hope. A long moment passes and nothing seems to happen as you drift closer to the end where Jongho and Seonghwa stand by the fruits they picked and closer to the door until Jongho starts coughing. It’s only a little at first as his hand comes up to rub at his throat it feeling funny along with his skin heating up. You look at him, eyes widening in shock as you see how pale he starts to look before the coughing suddenly gets harsher to the point of him coughing up blood. Nearly collapsing to the ground before you and Seonghwa catch him and help him sit. You gently rub and pat his back while holding him up and against your chest.

“E-Easy Jongho, just try to breath okay? We got you.” You try to assure him, but when you look up from your spot besides him to make eye contact with San your eyes are glistening with tears. The boys desperately scrambling to find any exit or to get someone’s phone to work to call for help realizing this is in fact legitimate and none of you were safe here, especially Jongho who possibly only had a few moments left. Jongho soon getting weaker as he only weakly sputters out blood and whimpers softly, relying on you to sit up even, before entirely going limp in your arms. Sobs finally breaking loose as you cup his cheek, gently wiping some of the blood off his face.

“C-Come on Jongho you gotta stay awake, we’ll find a way to get you help. J-Just please wake up.” You beg him, even as the door finally clicks open to the next room you don’t want to leave him alone. It’s only when Seonghwa gently takes him from your arms and lays him down that you let the boys take you to the next room hoping to find an exit there.

The next room seeming much more like a lab with all sorts of chemicals and test tubes, the whole area would have just reminded you of Chemistry class and how badly you sucked at that if it hadn’t been for what you just went through. Yunho holding you close and rubbing your back gently, absorbing your cries into his chest as he sniffles a little as well. Hongjoong finding the little card with instructions this time.

“One by one add the chemicals to the one in the center of the room. One of you might be lucky enough to get an explosive reaction.”

“Let Y/N go first.” Hongjoong stops Yeosang from going to grab one and get it over with and the boys all stop to look at him confused, “The chances of picking a safe chemical go down with each one. So Y/N first and then youngest to oldest. Except I’ll go last instead of Hwa.” 

“I-I don’t wanna do it that way. That’s not fair to the rest of you.” You whimper out before Hongjoong pulls you into another hug, gently wiping away your tears.

“It’s alright Y/N. Whatever happens is what happens, it’s not your fault. Now go pick one please and just get it over with.” Hongjoong assures gently before letting go of you, to gently nudge you towards the test tubes. You were kind of hoping that in staring at them something would give away which one would be deadly and just suffer the consequences so that the others wouldn’t have to, but you weren’t so lucky. Finally you chose one and poured it in, waiting and watching for a few moments and yet nothing had happened. It went on for a while until it was just Seonghwa and Hongjoong were left, for the first round anyways. There were more test tubes than there were you all.

“Joong you should go next, really. I’ll take my chances.” Seonghwa insisted, but Hongjoong wasn’t having it as he nudged Seonghwa over gently like he had you earlier. Seonghwa finally giving in as he goes to pick a test tube and pour it in. Waiting a moment nothing seems to happen, until he turns his back to it and it starts to sizzle. Seonghwa’s eyes widen and he quickly turns back towards it trying to cover the explosion with his body to protect the rest of you from it.  San realizing what was going on and pulling you close to shield you behind him too little shards of glass that made it through piercing his back as he keeps you safe. Him glancing over his shoulder to see what damage had been done as the next door clicks open, but not letting you around him to see as he firmly holds you and leads the way through to the next room. The speaker system cackling again, signaling the people who you wanted to curse out are ready to try and communicate with you again in a form other than paper and death.

“Wow! Only two deaths and you already have over 500,000 live viewers. Your quite the popular little group of individuals, aren’t you? Keep it up and we might just let one of you actually survive.” 

The words weren’t what will haunt you though, it was the mocking laughter that rung out afterwards. Echoing through the room, before the sound system cut it off again. You shake your head, eyes burning from tears unable to shed anymore in this moment and you were only two rooms in out of however many they wished to torment you with. Yeosang taking a turn to comfort you while Yunho looked at San’s back trying to help him out. Mingi going to look at the next paper.

“Some locked doors can be opened. Each person pick a door and step through to see what’s waiting on the other side. No cheating.”

Yeosang lets you hug him tightly as you both kind of waddle your way over to where the keys are with the other boys, “Go ahead and pick Y/N. Pick carefully.”

“You too.” You tell Yeosang softly, despite knowing that one person less would be leaving this room than entering no matter how well you all picked your keys. Yeosang kisses your forehead softly, squeezing your hand in comfort with a small smile before picking his while you chose yours. One by one you unlocked your doors all finding a pitch black entranceway. Even the ground was blacked out not providing any sign of what was to come. Until you all stepped through and you heard Yeosang’s scream. Turning towards where he’d been you see him fall in, running over to try and catch him and nearly sliding into the hole yourself if it hadn’t been for Wooyoung catching your leg. 

“Y/N you can’t just throw yourself head first into a hole like that!” Wooyoung scolds pulling you back and into a hug with his kneeling form, softening as he sees fresh tears on your face, feeling some falling from his own. 

“I-I just....I-I thought I could save him.” Your sobs have you shaking against Wooyoung’s chest as he rocks you gently, scooping you up to carry you into the next room.  

“I know, but we just have to try to make sure as many of us stay alive until help can get here. Over 500,000 people are viewing this live, I’m sure someone has called help by this point and they’ll try to help us. Who knows maybe they can save one of the boys.” Wooyoung tries to console you even if he knows himself that it’s false hope.  It served some good in calming you though, you being more hopefully about these things than he naturally was and therefore accepting it for the time being. Wearing through the fresh round of tears and your eyes dried once more, out of them for the time being and wiping your face to take on the next challenge with the boys. Looking around though you found no paper, hoping perhaps you’d been through enough torment to satisfy them. You knew it was too good to be true as the voice came over the speakers again though. 

“So while you’ve been busy entertaining our guests we’ve done some digging on you all......and I must say jealousy is a really nasty look. Especially on you Hongjoong. Not to mention the regretful things it can make you do.” The voice sighs before tsking softly, “Poor poor San....he’s got to let you down like this doesn’t he?”

San looks towards the speaker system in confusion, “What do you mean? He’s jealous of me?”

“Oh he most certainly is and because of that he’s going to have to get rid of you.” The voice chuckles darkly, Hongjoong and San both paling as your eyes widen.

“W-What do you mean? I-I’ll do no such thing.” Hongjoong insists practically screaming at the speaker.

“You will though, unless you want everyone in the room to die.” The voice is serious in it’s threat causing panic to settle in among you all.

“J-Just do it Joong. It’s not worth everyone dying over. It’s simple math...one life or six.” San urges softly despite the tears glistening on his cheeks, willing to do this for everyone else’s sake.

Hongjoong gently hugs the other man before looking around the room, “L-Let me see if there is anything to make it go quicker....b-be a little less painful for you.”

The voice laughs again, “You won’t find anything....you’ll have to do it with your own hands Hongjoong. Hope you still have some of those dark feelings for him, it might just make it go faster.”

Hongjoong feels as if he’s going to be sick, his dam breaking now as streams of tears stain his face, looking at Wooyoung and you for a moment, “Cover Y/N’s eyes.” 

His voice is so quiet like it’s barely there, but Wooyoung hears the words anyways nodding softly and turning away from it himself as he shield your face from the sight against him instead. That doesn’t block the sounds though, the cracks of bones and cries of pain. The sobs coming from all the men around you, but not as pained as the heart wrenching ones coming from Hongjoong while he acts. It dying away, but not soon enough as Yunho moves to cover your ears trying to protect you from that as well. Once it’s over you feel Wooyoung’s hold on you loosen giving you freedom to move. Slowly you walk past them to where San’s battered body lay, unmoving and taking the last pained and shuttering breaths as Hongjoong refused to even look at what he did, instead throwing up in the corner. You gently take San’s hand wanting to stay with him, even as the next door opened.

“Y/N.....we have to go if we can’t get out in time to get him help then he really won’t make it.” Mingi softly places his hand on your shoulder. You nod, but lean down to kiss San’s temple first.

“You’re so brave to do this San, but now you gotta stay strong for us. We’re going to get out and get help as soon as we can for you.” You whisper a promise to him before finally letting go of his hand, gently laying it down to go through the door with the others. Your shoulders slump at the sight of a gun, already knowing whatever the plan for the room was would likely not be pleasant if there was such an obviously placed gun. Yunho getting the little paper and reading it with a sigh before crumpling it up and throwing it as if that’s resolve anything.

“They want us to play fucking Russian roulette. Like normal people would hope to do this for the sake of entertaining others!” Yunho shakes his head as he feels like he’s about to crack again. All of you more than spent at this point with still no exit in clear sight. Not without the risk of at least four more people still dying.  

Wooyoung slipped an arm around you, pulling you close. Worrying about you as usual as Yunho stepped back over to the group, trying to discuss what order you should go in and so on. You didn’t pay that much attention to the conversation though, you didn’t really care what order you went in. Someone else would be dying in a few moments and you felt helpless to it. Part of you almost said fuck it and ripped about of Wooyoung’s arms to go take this one yourself just for the sake of the remaining boys, almost. You knew you probably wouldn’t get far though before they stopped you from what you planned to do. Like you’d rather watch them all die in front of you than save one of them. You were drawn out of your thoughts though when you heard a clicking sound, eyebrows drawing together as you tried your best to wiggle in Wooyoung’s hold and get a look around to see what it was. Another of the same sound following only a moment later.

“Guys, what’s that clicking sound?” You question, but are quickly dismissed by the others who are busy debating why their order is the best option. A debate no one had a right answer considering they were all trying to give themselves the worst chance of survival. 

“Not now Y/N, we’ll deal with that in a minute.” Mingi manages to spare you a glance and it’s only then when you realize who’s voice you hadn’t heard through the whole debate.

“W-Wait guys........w-where’s Hongjoong?” You question eyes widening at a third click sound, stomach dropping as you put two and two together. The others finally breaking from the circle to look into the room. Noticing Hongjoong with the gun to his head right as the bang of a gunshot went off. Not realizing you jumped or screamed at the sight before you, not entirely sure the others registered your reaction either. One that was to be expected when you just saw a friend shoot themselves, blood splattering over the walls. Something you’d see in a museum as a sick form of modern art no doubt, if this had been fake. A reality you would much rather wish for. Four doors clicking open this time as the cackling of the speaker comes on again.

“Hm....I guess the guilt was just too much for Hongjoong. It’s a real shame.” The voice mocks the pain the rest of you are going through, “I’ll give you all a moment to say goodbye to him and to each other now, because you’ll each have to pick a separate door and make your way through a maze. Of course the door at the end will only remain open for three of you. The last person will be left with something....not so friendly.”

Getting to the row of doors you stop the boys before they can start to argue again, “No! No more sacrificing yourselves! Then the rest of us are left to carry that guilt! We all have to agree before we walk through those doors that we’ll all try to make it! Whoever doesn’t.....it was at least fair and we know that. Besides there is a chance they can hide in the maze or something until help gets here.”

Silently the boys nod in a solemn agreement, knowing you had a point and all feeling the burdens of guilt themselves. A tight group hug being held for a moment, knowing it was possibly the last time one of you would be in it, before breaking apart and each walking through one of the doors. After a couple of turns through the weaving maze you stumbled across a glass wall, Yunho appearing after only a moment on the other side. Your smile at the sight of him dropped when you realized you couldn’t make out the words he was trying to speak through the glass. The sounds too muffled through the material, with a sigh he gives up after a moment simply putting a hand on the glass. You doing the same from the other side and giving each other a small smile through tear filled eyes. Until your adrenalin spiked again as a roar sounded through the maze. Looking at Yunho again you managed to make out one word before he turned to leave the glass wall, run. So that’s exactly what you did. You ran through the maze, barely calculating which direction would be a wiser choice as your flight instinct kicked in knowing there was a wild animal somewhere in here with you. Seeing the door out in sight you bolt through it, chest heaving when you reach the other side, looking up to see who called your name to see Wooyoung and Mingi already inside. 

“Yunho!” You yell turning back towards the door as you hear a pained scream before the door suddenly slams shut behind you. You bang your first against it with a curse, before Mingi pulls you away from the door, realizing that the room was moving. Going down in fact. Back to the level you first entered on maybe? No, you’d gone too far down for that now. You were in the basement when the doors opened again. The three of you slipping into the room. Wooyoung finding the little paper this time. 

“The way out will be revealed, but at a cost to you. The door will only be opened if one remains behind as a sacrifice.” 

The three of you look around trying to figure what it meant you wanted to do. Though soon you got a clue as part of the ceiling opened up, starting to flood the room with water. Gasping as icy wet soaks your shoes and works it way up your pants, making you feel much heavier. Eventually determine where the door is, a ladder in the far corner leading up to where an opening above could be. 

“What do we do to get it open then?” Mingi asks climbing up and pushing against it a little, “What kind of sacrifice do they want?” 

You all knew what kind, but you had no idea what they expected you to do, until a red flash came from the opposite corner of the room on the floor. Wooyoung looks at you two with furrowed brows, wondering what it could be. Mingi convincing you to step up a few rungs of the ladder as the water had already managed to get up to the waist at this point. 

“I’ll go check it out and let you all know.” Wooyoung decides before trudging through the rapidly rising water to get there. He has to dive below the surface to see what it is, only to spot a button. He presses it and holds for a moment, not realizing that where you were the door opened until he let go to surface for air.

“What did you do Woo? The door opened and then it closed again.”Mingi inquires looking at the boy who’s shaking out his hair and treading water on the other side of the room.

“I pressed a button for a bit. It must be when unlocks the door.” Wooyoung sees you and Mingi both go to offer and he quickly cuts you off, “Don’t even bother there isn’t time and I can hold my breath longest, I’m the one who’ll be able to hold it long enough for you both. Now get ready.”

You and Mingi both deflate slightly, but listen working up the ladder to wait for the door to open once again. Wooyoung waiting until you were both set to dive again, intending to hold the button for as long as possible, to be sure that both of you had made it. Not that it mattered much, the door immediately closing despite his hold on the button as soon and you and Mingi were through. With a soft sigh you picked up the last paper, like you had the first one. 

“The way things will end will come down to fate. Each choice you make could be your last or it could be the one that finally sets you free. The final door will open when every choice has been made, when only one is left standing.”

Lights were over what looked to be two bins with pull tabs, whatever being inside a mystery. You and Mingi exchanged a look sighing softly before making your choices and each grabbing a lever, not really sure what to expect or why you bothered to even play this game anymore. Even if you made it out alive, for what? Even if help arrived in time for some of them, it would simply be too late for others.

“We pull on three? And no matter what happens we agree to live our lives if we make it out?” Mingi questions, forcing a small smile like it would provide much reassurance at this point.

You give a small nod and return one of your own, “On three.”

1...

2......

3.

Pulling the levers neither of you made it out unscathed, a rolling pin dropping to smack Mingi in the head while a hand held mirror dropped onto you. Your arm coming up to block most of it from your head and face, cutting the skin on your arm while the back of Mingi’s head bled a little. Yet, you both knew it wasn’t enough for whoever was watching as the next two bins lit up. So on you went the next bins weren’t as dangerous of items, the problem us that you looked up wondering what yours was the food can the dropped out hitting you in the face immediately leaving a mark that would only get worse with time, eye swelling slightly. Meanwhile Mingi had a wine glass drop onto him, shattering and raining glass down over him, not helping either of your conditions, but not enough to kill yet. The third row of bins lighting up you both stumbled a little, battered from what you’d already been through, but making it to the next one and pulling the levers once again. Mingi’s loud cry broke out before you could see what happened to him, a rather heavy clock having dropped out and knocking him to the ground. You opening yours and quickly trying to shield your head from the mental pipe that dropped out, it was heavy and beat you a bit as it dropped, but not enough to knock you down. Carefully you go over and help Mingi up and to the next one when he insisted he keep going along with you, pulling again through the tears and swelling of your eye you didn’t see what dropped onto Mingi, only hearing the way the impact knocked the wind out of him in a pained manner while you simply had a grouping of ceramic plates fall onto you. The click of a door opening was enough to let you know how things turned out, trudging your way through shattered remains of the plate with little care and knowing you couldn’t bare to see what Mingi looked like now you made you way through the door. Entrance now in sight, in big flashing red above it the number of viewers your group had gotten the sick bastards who did this to you...... 23, 897,674...

_______________

Looking down at the police report again you shake your head, carefully reaching up to wipe your tears.

Police Report - Event reported 10-12-2020 - Time: 2:47 am

Choi Jongho - Cause of death: Poisoning. Victim stated through ingestion of mangos. Substance: Unknown

Park Seonghwa - Cause of death: Killed by an exploding test tube.

Kang Yeosang - Cause of death: Fell into a empty elevator shaft and onto old support beams. Body not located.

Choi San - Cause of death: Blunt force trauma, beaten by another man according to victim statement. Body not located.

Kim Hongjoong - Cause of death: Suicide, gunshot wound.

Jeong Yunho - Cause of death: Mauled by a wild animal, suspected missing lion. Body not located.

Jung Wooyoung - Cause of death: Drowning. Body not located.

Song Mingi - Cause of death: Blunt force trauma, beaten with objects; rolling pin, wine glass, clock, potentially more we have yet to find.

Y/L/N Y/N - Victim: Traumatized, suffering from major injury, taken to hospital where report was filed.

Assailant: Unknown. Multiple accomplices also in the wind.

You’re about ready to crumple up the paper and toss it aside, but as the doctor comes in again you settle for just setting it onto the wheelie tray they had for food and move it aside.

“Hello Y/N, we’d like to ask you something. Looking over some of your test results we were a little confused by it and wanted to see if you knew anything about it.” The doctor speaks softly and although you were long tired of questions, you nod anyways. Knowing that he was only trying to help and that you’d made Mingi a promise at the end.

“Do you happen to know why there was a hallucinogen in your system?”

[vesperlionheart]

Vesper’s Quarantine ‘Finished’ Reading List

If you’re stuck indoors and feeling anxious sometimes the best thing is to drown your brain in distractions until you’re able to function again. Thus, I’ve put together a list of Sakura centric stories to entertain you. There’s a lot of shameless self promo here, fair warning, but it’s my blog and my blogpost so that’s where we’re gonna start.  Some of my favorite fic are ones still being updated but this list includes only stories marked as [complete]. 

[Finished personal fic]

Obelisk: Kingdom of Man By: VesperChan 'She could swear she smelt sulfur when she exhaled. Nothing good ever came from boys who smelled like sulfur.' An ancient Egyptian curse and a world of dreams opens Sakura up to a life devoid of safety. In the darkness her nightmares bow themselves to her. In the morning they feast on her heart. AU SakuraMany Obelisk: Kingdom of Beasts By: VesperChan One Kingdom down, three to go. Carrying the scars on her heart, Sakura must brave the dreams again as this time, there are more sinister things then men waiting for her when she goes to sleep. The wolves have come to feast and her body will know their teeth. AU SakuraMany Obelisk: Kingdom of Monsters By: VesperChan More than halfway through the curse, Sakura's nightmares hold nothing back as fangs and spells seek to drag her down and bury her with the dead. Monsters have come at least to feast on what is left of her bones and devour her wounded heart. Beyond the scars and bloodshed, her soul is beginning to fade under the dim lights of another enchanted speakeasy and ruby eyes. AU SakuraMany Obelisk: Kingdom of Gods By: VesperChan Entering the final kingdom, Sakura stands atop a castle of sand to face down the gods who first orchestrated the curse and began the bloody tradition of collecting human souls in a little black obelisk. Gladiators, Egyptian gods, and blood thirsty pharaohs paint a vivid picture on the inside of her mind as she sleeps, dreams, and struggles once again. AU SakuraMany Total word count for Obelisk series: 565,292 (just over half a million words)

RED KING By: VesperChan In the wild country where it never snows but always freezes, the Red King marches his armies against the White Tsar. That is why Sakura is swept away from the lonely streets and the empty barracks into a car with a bastard prince and a promise of redemption, but if only she can face the demons that chased her in the first place and be what the king needs in his war. SakuraCentric 

Touken Revolution by Vesperchan (rated E)  Sakura, a sword smith, is nearly killed for what she really is: a sage, one who can animate weapons into warriors and give bodies to the souls she hears inside swords. Now a refugee in the land of Kiri she's building an army because it's her only hope for survival and maybe even happiness. SakuraKiri Sakura centric

Things We Lost in the Fire By: VesperChan Years later, living alone in the woods with half a dozen dogs, questionable reading material, and crippling non-attachment issues, Sakura realizes she has turned into her teacher. Agebent Sakura Sensei ShiSaku

Jealous gods by Vesperchan When a coup takes the lives of the king and the rest of the royal family, Sakura, the sole surviver, escapes to the edge of the world with Kakashi to strike a bargain with an old god. Her worship in exchange for his power. She's warned he's a dark and jealous god, but that's not enough to sway her. ItaSaku Kakasaku darkItachi AU

Lindworm & the Tam Lin Love a Changling by Vesperchan Sakura travels as a curse breaker across the land, doing what she can to put some peace back into the world. She doesn't think much of it when she breaks the curse on a lesser dragon or a fae knight, but maybe she should have. MadaSaku, HashiSaku Poly

A Confluence of Stars by Vesperchan (my WitcherAU) With the war over between two princedoms, Sakura, a sniper, returns home to celebrate Confluence with her grandmother, the local Story Keeper. She had expected it to be nothing more than just another celebration when the star rivers overlapped and the poor people partied. But, along with the rest of the world, Sakura soon realizes that Confluence did more than just give people a reason to celebrate. A wicked new world filled with monsters and magic straight from Baba's tales spills into theirs, and Sakura is forced to turn to her rifle and her stories to make sense of it. Sakuracentric 

Sugarplum by Vesperchan "They will use you up, and love you all the while, until there is nothing left of the girl you used to be." Sakura had been a chosen one, once upon a time, but that was years ago, and all the magic has left her. Still, the world calls her back and she has a new role in supporting the next girl savior many years her junior. ItaSakuSaso

Stag by Vesperchan  He was a wizard with a tower and a set of rules he should never break. Sakura was a girl with just a bit of budding magic he decides he can't ignore. Some things were made to be broken. TobiSaku 

[Finished general fic list]

Hollow Point by Sariasprincy @sariasprincy​ Arms dealing is her trade, but young and in a man's world, it takes a criminal mastermind to play with the big dogs without getting bit. TobiSaku/ItaSaku. Crime!AU. Rated M for mentions of adult themes.

Where it Happened also by @sariasprincy​e He was the new head of Cardio and her new boss, and though she thought him a little full of himself, it seemed there was more to the famed Uchiha Itachi than he led on. Not that she could claim her life was that uncomplicated as well. ItaSaku. Modern AU. Grey's Anatomy AU. Rated M for mentions of adult themes.

Nightmare in Red by @sariasprincy​ Haruno Sakura used to think the eyes were the windows to the soul, but after witnessing the horrors of the Sharingan firsthand, she's convinced they are the doors. ItaSaku. Nonmass. Rated T

Blurred Lines  by @sariasprincy​He was an international criminal. She was a federal agent. And she wanted nothing more than to arrest him - or shoot him - if only he would stop providing her leads to more desirable criminals first. MadaSaku. Rated T.

The Man in Black  A man in black haunts her hospital. But what does he want and why is it that Sakura is the only one that can see him? ItaSaku. Modern Myth AU. Death AU

The Choices We Make by @sariasprincy​He was the Head of the Uchiha Clan and she the fearless discipline of the Hokage, but how the hell was she supposed to find the strength to tell him she was pregnant? MadaSaku. Rated M for mentions of adult themes.

halcyon days by jaylene @thefreckledone​ Sakura sees dead people. Well, two dead people to be exact. Everything changes. Sakura-centric. Indra/Sakura/Ashura. 

hands like houses by @thefreckledone Sakura finds herself trapped in the past and discovers a new family along the way, however unwilling she may be. Time travel. Fix-it fic. Sakura-centric.

Borage by @thefreckledone Sakura is in search for answers. What she finds doesn't please her.

Forest Fire by Moor @kendochick-moor Mod AU. Sasu x Saku x Ita. A small spark can launch a forest fire.

Forest Fire II by Moor @kendochick-moor Sequel to "Forest Fire". University AU. Sasu X Saku X Ita. After Sasuke inexplicably broke up with her when he leaves for Oto, Sakura throws herself into her school and social life. Friends like Ino, and surprisingly Itachi, are there to help her along the way. Meanwhile another threat, in the form of unbalanced Uchiha Madara, stalks her, ever nearer.

Tipsy series by Moor @kendochick-moor Mod AU. MadaSaku. The 1-5 part  of the "5 Drunkfics" prompts.  (Rated 'M' for language & themes)

Akatsuki Sakura AU by moor  DeiSaku, ItaSaku. Konoha-verse AU. Akatsuki Sakura AU. Raised by Uchiha Madara as part of the Akatsuki, Sakura is sent to infiltrate Konoha's ranks. Things become complicated when she is promoted to a team with one of Konoha's most well-respected ANBU captains, Uchiha Itachi.

Soulmates by Moor - KakaSaku. Age-swap AU. Based on the "Soulmates" prompt from the October 2015 tumblr KakaSaku fest. Kakashi has a reputation as an enfant terrible; at least, until Sakura sensei takes him under her wing. Rated M for later chapters.

Fancy Footwork by silverfootsteps @silverfootstepswrites For Sakura, there's always been dreary days of schoolwork and unreliable people. Who knew a clumsy womanizer, an accidental pervert, a soft-hearted glutton, and an incredibly sexy virgin would light her life up like this? A friendship founded on dancing and the strange threat that tied them all together: "Fiji". AU

Equinox by silverfootsteps Sakura is half-siren, half-human, and 100% unprepared for what waits for her when she moves to a little seaside town. A place where calling someone a monster always receives the answer: "….well, duh". Monster AU. Multisaku.

Lullaby by Silverfootsteps Sakura is part-siren, part-human, and learning how to deal with a nest of lovable dorks. But nothing seems impossible in the sleepy little town of Old Pines, where magic hangs heavy in the air and a certain werewolf has learned to stop pissing everywhere. Sort of. Sequel to Equinox. Monster AU. Polysaku af.

Butterfly by silverfootsteps After winning her first and only Olympic gold, Haruno Sakura shocks the world by announcing her retirement from skating. When she returns to her little hometown of Konoha, she finds that not much has changed. The same old temples, the same old persimmon trees. Resigned to a quiet life, she settles in for what she hopes will be an uneventful retirement. Skating AU. Itasaku.

Five Kingdoms for the Dead by Evil Is A Relative Term After the Forest of Death, Sakura comes to realize that being weak is no longer an option. However, she finds that change is sometimes painful and that truth doesn't always come easy. Luckily, she'll have some help along the way.

Vertigo by Cynchick Sakura accepts the most critical and dangerous mission of her life, but the price of success may very well be her soul. When your entire world turns upside down, how do you keep from going under? DeiSaku.

An Indispensable Assistant by TayMor Professional. Intelligent. Intuitive. Haruno Sakura is the assistant every boss wants. She is smart, she is capable, and she is experienced. Operating with her own hard and fast rules, Sakura has one, very important personal rule. Never fall in love with your boss. However, being indispensable to Uchiha Itachi will put that rule under heavy duress. AU. 

The Third Chance by TayMor reviewsJust because he died didn't mean he got to stay dead. The Rikudo Sennin reincarnates Uchiha Madara as his 26 year old self and he begins his third life broken, humiliated and full of despair. But things change as Madara finds himself competing against Sasuke for the attention of Konoha's favorite medic... MadaSakuSasu Set after the final battle and during the blank period.

Rainy Days by Wynth It took her a while before Sakura was convinced that she was once again in her twelve year old body, but by that time it was too late. •Time-Travel / AU���

Consequences of Saving a Life by BelleDayNight reviewsAt the end of the war, Neji is revived by Sakura. She has saved his life, now she is responsible for it. The Hyuga clan leader covets the power that Naruto and Sakura could bring the clan with unions with Hinata and Neji. Can they survive the politics of the noble clan? Naruto trains with Sasuke and Hanabi for CPE while Sakura and Neji embark on a mission together for the Daimyo.

Take It or Leave It by kc-archive  Akatsuki & Sakura. After a moment of shock, Sakura realized that two fully grown, fully naked men were sitting squished uncomfortably together in her bathtub. (dubcon warning)

Till Death Due Us Apart  by SpeedDemon315​ Ever since he was gone, she never was the same. The world was warm and cheery while she was cold and dreary. She thought there was no hope left for her…or was there? Oneshot, character death [SasorixSakura]

Bringing Back What's Dead by SpeedDemon315  Sequel to Till Death Due Us Apart. She made a promise to herself to discover a way to revive him and have him finally see his son. What happens when your greatest enemy from the past is the only one who can grant your fondest wish? SakuraxSasori

Time Flies Like An Arrow by katlou303 Sakura traveled back in time with the intent of changing everything, but something went wrong, and now she's a four-year-old civilian having nightmares about impossible monsters and losing friends she has yet to meet.

Uneasy coexistence by DeGlace One grinning shark–man. One pink–haired medic. Ankles. Teeth. Kisame x Sakura. Yes, you read that right.

The Art of War by leafygirl  Entry for the LJ Kakasaku AU contest. Sakura gets stuck following her teacher after a bet with her friends. But his mysterious life is nothing she ever expected.

Vespertine by Cynchick  Two enemies strike a bargain to save what they both hold dear. He will reveal a truth that shakes her beliefs, drawing her into a web of lies and betrayal. She will offer the redemption for which he never hoped and show him how to be human again. ItaSaku.

Caught and Set Loose by Celtic Oak AU. On a mission, Sakura and her companions find themselves in the custody of the wildest clan of the East Province. Forced to accept their hospitality and a redheaded escort, the medic must make the best of her situation, wherever it leads her. GaaSaku.