#I’ll protect HUMANITY

[what-even-is-sleep]

Consider this: Danny Phantom and Invincible crossover

[listles-s]

anyone else think about how in kay/o’s new agent paranoia gif he glitches and shuts down after seeing brimstone dead in his arms again?? after failing to save him in this world, a world he came back to to try and protect a second time?? how he is so lost without brimstone, a human, the kind he strove to protect, the kind he fought alongside til the bitter end, now gone without him, a robot who is able to be rebuilt time and time again?? how, despite this, knowing he’ll eventually be okay, eventually be rebuilt, and return to war, he still shuts down of his own volition?? because his leader’s gone again?? bc i do

[vigilantejustice]

dreams are stupid funny. it’s like you’re either subjected to the most unsettlingly nonsensical sequence of events ordinarily inconceivable or you wake up fundamentally changed having learned something you were consciously unaware of and sometimes both things are true about the same dream

[ignitification]

seeing all the anon hate towards villain stans lately makes me feel like a protected species in the wildlife

[eunoiastarz]

Cas the kids you raised are so lovely <3

[prokaryotics]

life is so evil literally how does anyone cope

[godblooded]

@despiite (x)

“ this is nothing to be called save but fate. and if this isn ‘ t happiness , i don ‘ t know what is. but at your loss , i lost myself , too. too long ago for me to care. “

she flicks her hair out of her eyes. the arithmancy professor. sitting here in what is virtually a private apartment , and honestly ?

“ if they take you anywhere — if they kill you — if they try to imprison you again — “

she gets up and summons her cane to her hand easily with a draw of her palm and a tug. nonverbal magic has always been an area of study for her , but this becomes a necessity when a dire brain injury cuts off your speech for months at a time. every movement is a third footstep — click , click , thud. heel , heel , cane.

she doesn ‘ t touch at bella ‘ s shoulder. she does , however , move quietly around to her field of vision. and if the alana she had loved is not still in there — it is evident in the horribly determined white - blue of her eyes. she can feel her inhuman teeth resting at the back of her mouth , strangely acutely , for no good reason.

“ — not without me. not ever again without me. and i promise you — i promise you with every single atom that makes me up that i refuse to let them take you. i ‘ ll kill kingsley. i mean that. they ‘ ll assume my loyalties lean more toward their jurisdiction , and we ‘ re going to play that in our favor. if anyone ‘ s speaking to either of us , it ‘ s without security to begin with. and i will be sure it ‘ s in a room with the use of floo powder. i believe it ‘ s time you get the happiness you deserve. “

[creamecream]

Blance: Can you do me a favor?

Wicker: I would literally die for you but go on.

@abyssnighthawk

[scarlet-romanoff]

Tag drop!

[astheravensighs]

ok I’m feeling super brave today so i did some s/i art!!!

grey valentine is my s/i for bungo stray dogs! her ability is to become and control shadow! she was created in a lab from human dna and had a pretty unpleasant first few days with actual humans so she’s terrified of most things and tends to kinda pop into shadows when she’s startled 😮

chuuya is tasked to teach her how the human world works and ends up becoming rly protective of her 🥰 they’re the non-human duo!!!

she’s just.... rly baby. please don’t hurt her bc she will truly cry and chuuya will kick ur ass

[keepermcge]

ELEMENTS

Water

is the element of calm, kindness, and insight. Water is known as the element of calm, balance, kindness, peace, compassion, harmony, and empathy. Its mere presence is a calming and healing influence. It is fluid, having a balance between the stability and practicality of the concrete and the intuition, imagination, and idealism of the abstract. Water has great clarity of insight, often easily seeing to the core of the issue. It is also generally a very good judge of character. Water is also known for its subtly determined nature. It can be cold, hard, and strong as ice; warm and soothing as bathwater; deep, powerful, and wise as the ocean; mysterious and inscrutable as mist and fog; or show the surprising ferocity of scalding steam. Family, friends, and romantic relationships are all very important to Water and it cherishes these connections for their deepness rather than their number. Water has a sensitive conscience and feels guilty easily; yet that same conscience gives it great strength and determination when it believes it is doing the right thing. Water is idealistic, always dreaming of a better world. This can make it very hard on itself or very pessimistic about the world, but it also ensures that Water is always looking to grow, learn, and improve. Water’s main weaknesses relate to its tendency to avoid direct conflict as well as the great gulf between its sky-high ideals and the regrettable state of the real world. Water can become depressed, pessimistic, passive, indecisive, self-loathing, overly cautious, unsocial, shy, or withdrawn from reality. Intellectually, Water seeks understanding. Water always asks “why.” It is the most holistic of all the elements and sees everything in the universe as being connected with everything else. As such, it isn’t one subject, one area, or one line of reasoning that interests Water - it’s everything. It is also known for its creativity and love of the arts. Its weakness is its tendency to become lost in its own mind. This can be due to going down rabbit trails on related subjects, getting distracted, or simply getting so absorbed that it never even gets to make the decision in question. Emotionally, Water has strong feelings and generally understands emotions very well, but tends to suppress emotions it sees as “harmful.” This is due to its desire for peace and harmony. So Water is perfectly comfortable expressing happiness, confidence, sadness, or loneliness, but it strongly suppresses anger, hatred, and harsh feelings in general. This can cause Water to bottle up hurt and anger, appearing calm and unbothered, then eventually releasing days, weeks, or even years of frustration all at once. Water’s wrath is rare, but terrible - especially if Water believes the object of its anger deserves it. However, sadness is the negative emotion Water shows the most. This is due to its kind, empathetic nature and its keen awareness that life is never what it should be. Core Strengths: Water is calm, kind, compassionate, empathetic, imaginative, wise, patient, adaptable, flexible, balanced, observant, artistic, idealistic, and insightful Possible Weaknesses: Water might be depressed, pessimistic, passive, indecisive, self-loathing, overly cautious, unsocial, shy, or withdrawn from reality. Possible Traits (overlap with other elements): honest, loyal, orderly, stable, rational, practical, dependable, strong, fair-minded, respectful, generous, forgiving, socially skilled, and excellent at thinking out-of-the-box and multi-tasking.

[cowboahs]

quotes that broke me starters

feel free to adjust pronouns / names as needed !

quotes taken from random sources or tiktok. i claim no ownership whatsoever.

❛   i’m supposed to be the one who protects you from monsters. i’m not supposed to be one.  ❜  

❛   if i could make a deal with god, and i’d get him to swap our places.  ❜  

❛  no one heard our screams for a long time.  ❜  

❛   i know so many last words. but i’ll never know hers.  ❜  

❛   there is a home for every departed thing.  ❜  

❛   it reminded me that i will never truly know you.  ❜  

❛   i also buried a part of myself alongside them.  ❜  

❛   after you died i could no longer hold a funeral. so my life became the funeral.  ❜  

❛   you don’t have to be awake to cry.  ❜  

❛   forgive me, for all the things i did. but mostly the things i didn’t do.  ❜  

❛   the human eye is the loneliest creation of all.  ❜  

❛   fairness is for happy people.  ❜  

❛   the things we lost will always be heavier than the things that stayed.  ❜  

❛   perhaps it is the greater grief, to remain on the earth when another is gone.  ❜  

❛   you stain the pages with yourself.  ❜  

❛   tears will not wash away the sorrow.  ❜  

❛   beautiful things grow a certain height and then they fall and fade off.  ❜  

❛    who in all these centuries has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?  ❜  

❛   i have scars on my hands from touching certain people  ❜  

❛   despite everything, i believe that people are really good at heart.  ❜  

❛   you tried to change, didn't you?  ❜

❛   you can’t make homes out of people. someone should have taught you that.  ❜  

❛   i hid my deepest feelings so well, i forgot where i placed them.  ❜  

❛   we have no scar to show for happiness. we learn so little from peace.  ❜  

❛   i didn't leave because i stopped loving you. i left because the longer i stayed, the less i loved myself.  ❜  

❛   at every moment in our life, we have one foot in a fairytale & the other in the abyss.  ❜  

❛   there are too many sad eyes on happy faces.  ❜  

❛   it's strange, i felt less lonely when i didn't know you.  ❜  

❛   things change, friends leave. life doesn't stop for anybody.  ❜  

❛   it takes a lifetime to die, and no time at all.  ❜  

❛   i am deathly afraid of almosts. of coming close to what i want and then falling just a little short.  ❜  

❛   i felt your absence.  ❜  

❛   what do we do now, now that we are happy?  ❜  

❛    you honestly thought anybody would love you? purely and truly love you?  ❜  

❛   don't stop looking. he deserves to know someone saw his end, that someone noticed him.  ❜  

❛    i can bear my pain so long as it has meaning.  ❜  

❛   i dont have a single friend - not one.  ❜  

❛   i've had more than enough pain in my life, what's a little more going to do?  ❜  

❛    it would have been you if i met you first.  ❜  

❛    i really thought he was going to be my forever.  ❜  

❛    maybe in the next life it would work.  ❜  

❛   in spite of everything, you're still you.  ❜  

❛   the dead have it easy.  ❜  

❛   there's an ocean of silence between us, and I'm drowning.    ❜  

❛   there have been countless times in my life when i thought i’d be better off dead.  ❜  

❛   what on earth... have i become?  ❜  

❛   don’t look at me! i don’t ... i don’t want you seeing me like this.  ❜  

❛   i wish i could’ve been like you.  ❜  

❛   your fate was sweeping you away, like a flood.  ❜  

❛   the future should know the mistakes we made.  ❜  

❛   of course you have. you feel guilt. you want redemption.  ❜  

❛   i'm here because you can't accept what you've done. it broke you.  ❜  

❛   even now, after all you've done, you can still go home.  lucky you . ❜  

❛   you're all that's left, and we can't live this lie forever.  ❜  

❛    prometheus gave us light, and warmth, and eternal damnation.  ❜  

❛   take a gamble that love exists, and do a loving act.  ❜  

❛    i know i ruined your life. i suffer for it every day.  ❜  

❛   don't let yourself get killed for... for pride. i’ve seen it kill too many folk.  ❜  

❛    you and me, we ain't decent... but those folk... they were.  ❜  

❛   we're more ghosts than people.  ❜  

❛   despite my best efforts to the contrary... it turns out i've won.  ❜  

❛   i gave you all i had ... i did.  ❜  

❛   this whole time, I've blamed myself for that decision.  ❜  

❛   do you think even the worst person can change...? That everybody can be a good person, if they just try? ❜  

❛   i don't want to break their hearts all over again. it's better if they never see me.  ❜  

❛   please leave me alone. i can't come back. i just ... can't, okay?  ❜  

❛   no matter the struggles or hardships you faced... you strived to do the right thing, you refused to hurt anyone. ❜  

❛    people like you don't ever want to be happy.  ❜  

❛   i don’t want to let go. i’m not ready to say goodbye yet.  ❜  

[the-faultofdaedalus]

I had a dream that the king and the queen of a small country had a daughter. They needed a son, a first-born son, so in secret, without telling anyone of their child’s gender, they travelled to the nearby woods that were rumoured to house a witch.

They made a deal with that witch. They wanted a son, and they got one. A son, one made out of clay and wood, flexible enough to grow but sturdy enough to withstand its destined path, enchanted to look like a human child. The witch asked for only one thing, and that was for their daughter.

They left the girl readily.

The witch raised her as her own, and called her Thyme. The princess grew up unknowing of her heritage, grew up calling the witch Mama, and the witch did her very best to earn that title.

She was taught magic, and how to forage in the woods, how to build sturdy wooden structures and how to make the most delicious stews. The girl had a good life, and the witch was pleased.

The girl grew into a woman, and learned more and more powerful magics, grew stronger from hauling wood and stones and animals to cook, grew smarter as the witch taught her more.

She learned to deal with the people in the villages nearby, learned how to brew remedies and medicines and how to treat illness and injury, and learned how to tell when someone was lying. 

Every time the pair went into town, the people would remark at just how similar Thyme was to her mother. 

(Thyme does not know who and what she is. She does not know that she was born a princess, that she was sold. She only knows that one night after her mother read her a story about princesses and dragons, her mother had asked her if she ever wanted to be a princess.)

((Thyme only knows that she very quickly answered no. She likes being a witch, thank you very much, she likes the power that comes with it and the way that she can look at things and know their true nature.))

The witch starts preparing the ritual early, starts collecting the necessities in the winter so they can be ready by the fall equinox. Her daughter helps, and does not ask what this is for, just knows that it is important.

The witch looks at Thyme, both their hands raised into the air over a complicated array of plants, tended carefully to grow into a circle, and says, sorry.

Thyme wakes up in a clearing she recognizes well. Her mother is not there. 

The house she had grown up in is a pile of logs on the ground, destroyed and broken and in disarray, and Thyme is afraid. She calls for her mother, once, twice, and then rolls up her sleeves and begins the trek towards town. 

Her home is not here, she has neither her bow nor her knife, and if she means to figure out what happened she needs supplies. People are always in need of a witch, she knows, and her mother taught her long ago the value of a silver tongue. 

Except.

She walks out of the woods, and the town is... different. Smaller. The mill she knew so fondly, that she used to climb in with the other children of the village, isn’t there. 

There’s no indication it was ever there, and all at once, Thyme realizes what the ritual was for. 

It was a time-spell, and now she is in the past. The house is in ruins because her mother has not repaired it yet, the mill is gone because it has not been built yet. 

She is here, because...

She does not know. 

And now, it is up to her to take care of herself.

She learns the date from the villagers, gets herself a room at the inn and a good hot meal in exchange for looking at the innkeeper’s son, who has been wracked with cough for weeks now, apparently. 

His face is one Thyme knows, one that in her days were covered in wrinkles and laugh-lines, and as she goes back out into the woods to collect the herbs she needs to cure the boy, she thinks.

The boy will take the inn over from his father, and he will always welcome Thyme’s mother in with open arms for saving him when he was a child. Either the story had been wrong, or Thyme has already broken things. 

Thyme does not know which one she fears more.

She waits in the village for a full turn of the moon for her mother to come. She knows that this is when she should have come in to town. She knows that she should show up here, any day. 

The boy’s cough gets better and when it’s gone completely Thyme buys herself a knife at the blacksmith’s and returns to the woods, to the clearing she calls home. Hands on her hips, she surveys the once-cottage, and makes a plan. 

The house takes a long time to build. She buys an axe, makes a bow, and sleeps under the stars while the house is very slowly built back up. Walls, roof, floors, and then a fireplace, big and wide enough to fit a cauldron, built from special bluestone she hauls from a nearby hill one lump at a time, all the better to brew inside. 

Mama, she thinks wryly, you better be grateful for this. 

She hunts for herself, mostly, snares rabbits and shoots down deer, strips them of their skin, treats it and leaves the fur out to dry. They’ll be good blankets, a good winter cloak, someday. She knows what plants she can eat, what plants will be good, and she survives. She builds. 

She does not tell the villagers her name, and they know her only as “the witch.” 

Thyme eventually stops waiting for her mother. She watches herself in the mirror, and aches at how much they look the same. How much she’s turning out like her mother. 

She helps the villagers, occasionally travels further to heal illnesses in other villages, but mostly stays to herself, in the woods, collecting books and herbs and the house grows more and more as she remembers it. Her hair, that used to be so dark, raven’s hair, her mother would say, braiding it back for her before she learned to do it herself, gets shot through with white and goes grey. 

There’s wrinkles on her face that didn’t used to be there. 

Thyme stops waiting, and becomes the witch of the these woods.

And then. 

The King and Queen of these lands show up at her door, and they are holding a baby girl. 

Please, they say, We need a son. Give us a son. 

And Thyme, who now has a scar on her cheek from a branch whipping at her too fast to avoid, who knows that her mother had had the same scar, looks at the baby, meets her eyes, and knows that they are her eyes. 

I’ll give you a son, Thyme tells them, as if through a trance, but the cost will be your daughter.

They agree, as she knew they would, and she makes a boy out of clay and wood and she remembers learning how to make constructs like these with her mother, she breaths life into it and sends it off with the King and Queen and she holds their baby in her arms. 

Black hair. Dark eyes. A quiet baby, who looks up at her with a solemness that Thyme’s not entirely sure babies are supposed to have. 

Hello, little one, Thyme says, holds out her finger for the baby to grasp, feels her voice crack down the centre like a burnt-out log when the infant holds her finger in her chubby little hand. 

She’s a princess. This baby is a princess, and this baby is her, and her mother has never existed. She knows all these things now, but the thing that she knows most strongly is that she will protect this child, and not only because this child is her. 

(It is alright to be selfish, Thyme, she remembers her mother telling her, it is alright to take things for yourself. You do not need to give yourself away, remember that.)

She has to build a crib and cradle for the baby, and until it’s finished, until she knows that the birchwood and blanket is as comfortable as it can be, she sleeps with the baby -- with Thyme, her name will be Thyme, and she smiles as she thinks it -- on her chest. 

She goes into the village, walking through the woods as baby Thyme looks at the trees and the plants with wide eyes, brings her to a farmer who has raised three girls, knocks at her door, and says, help me. 

The witch doesn’t know how to care for a child, and she is going to learn. She must learn. 

The farmer helps her gladly, something in her eyes that tells the witch that she misses having children, that however much she loves her girls, grown and adventurous, sun-browned and strong from working the fields with her mother, she misses caring for an infant. 

She learns how to make formula out of goat’s milk, how to burp the baby, how to change and wash her. She learns how to tell why the baby might be crying -- even though baby Thyme rarely cries, prefers to watch the world with her big, dark eyes -- and how to fix what might be wrong. 

She sits with the farmer as Thyme plays with a doll carved from a cow’s bone, and learns how to thresh wheat. 

The farmer never asks where the baby came from, but does remark how alike they look, that Thyme looks just like her mother, and the witch smiles at that. 

Thyme seems to grow quickly, learning to crawl, and then to toddle around while hanging off the furniture, and the witch cries at Thyme’s first, unsteady and unsupported steps, even as she builds high shelves into the rafters of her home so that Thyme won’t end up eating things she shouldn’t.

The witch takes Thyme into the village more and more, first in a bag tucked up close against her chest, and when Thyme grows more, holding her hand as she runs through the woods as fast as her little legs will carry her. Every time Thyme runs off to bring back a flower, the witch feels a surge of fondness she refuses to suppress. 

The mill is built, and the witch watches as Thyme runs off to play with the other village kids, brave and fearless and so, so curious. 

She teaches Thyme her first charm when the girl is eight, and Thyme takes to the craft like she takes to memorizing the names and uses of plants, like she takes to a bow and knife, like she takes to books, exactly as the witch knew she would. 

Sometimes, the witch hates the lie she’s made Thyme into. She agonizes over it, over she should tell the girl her true parentage, should spill this secret like a cut bag of wheat, but--

She does not want Thyme to know that she was traded away so easily. She does not want Thyme to know that to her birth parents, she was worthless. 

She asks, though. Asks, do you want to be like the girls in the books? a princess? and is warmed to the core when Thyme answers no. 

Yes, the witch had known what she had answered. Yes, the witch knows that Thyme loves her life, her studies, the woods, her home. 

(Yes, the witch knows that Thyme loves her mother, because the witch loved her mother. She knows this, and still, she asks.)

The witch teaches Thyme how to make constructs, how to animate them, is proud beyond words when on her fifth try, casting over a wood skeleton covered in clay, the shape of a rabbit, the thing shivers to life, and hops over to push it’s nose into Thyme’s outstreached hands, the girl beaming so brightly that the witch thinks the woods might be glowing with it. The rabbit-construct is lumpy, and uneven, it’s movements slow and unnatural, and she has not yet taught Thyme how to cast the illusion spell onto it that will make it look real, and alive, but Thyme looks so happy that the witch nearly, nearly, forgets her guilt at the purpose of this spell.

Thyme grows, first into a teen, skinny and narrow from how she had shot taller like a willow tree, bony and sharp and lean, and into a woman, growing broad from good food and hard work, takes to hiking into the woods for days at a time with only her knife and her bow and a pouch of herbs, returns home with wild hair the witch combs out for her as Thyme tells her of her adventures.

It matters not that the witch knows all of these stories, knows them because she lived them herself, when she was a girl. She listens to her daughter, dragging the comb through her tangled hair, asks about the falls she found, the cliffs, the animals, the herbs, makes sure that Thyme knows that she will be listened to, that she deserves to be listened to. She listens, because she knows that no matter how much Thyme loves going on these adventures, she also loves coming home, and sharing in these simple, cozy moments.

Winter comes. With the cold comes a grief, a guilt, that weighs heavy on the witch’s heart. She begins preparing for the ritual, for the time-spell that will send her daughter backwards and into loneliness and into the position to save herself from what her true parents would force her to become, backwards to learn the truth, backwards to become her.

She knows why she must do this. She has scryed on her construct, the prince, the soon-to-be-king, every moon since she sent him away and took herself in his place. She sees what he has grown into, she sees what the power has done to him, she sees and she knows that she and her daughter would have suffered greatly in that role. She sees him make hard choices.

She sees him go to war.

She sees the illusion she cast over branch and clay bleed. She sees him, bandages around his torso, arm hanging awkwardly by his side, leave the castle, and wade into the lake outside of it’s walls. She sees the clay in the lakebed melt towards him, heal the wounds, make him fit to wield a sword the very next day.

She does not want that. She does not want that for her daughter.

It is alright to be selfish, Thyme, she remembers her mother saying to her, remembers saying to her Thyme, bleeding for others is a gift. It is valued, but it is up to you to give it.

Spring comes. Reedy plants are tended into a circle. Summer comes. Fires are burned over the dirt, ash mixed with soil. Fall comes. The heart of a boar is buried under the circle, placed to rest with gentle words. The witch and her daughter, Thyme and Thyme, stand together, hands raised, looking at each other.

The witch whispers, I’m sorry.

And her daughter disappears.

[peterbarnes]

See You Again

Summary: Thousands of years after going your separate ways, Druig shows up at your apartment with his signature smirk and some bad news. You find yourself falling in love with him all over again…or maybe you never fell out of love.

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist

“Druig! Druig wait!”

You felt your face get hotter as you rushed down the steps of the Aztec pyramid, closer to the raging fire plaguing the town, and closer to Druig. Smoke from burning buildings and burning bodies filled your lungs, and you had to fight for every breath you took. When you reached the last stair, you tripped over your feet, stumbling forward and into Druig’s back.

He whipped around, eyes glazed over and clouded as his powers worked their inexplicable magic.

“You’re just gonna leave like that?” You snapped, adjusting your dark red suit. Your eyes bored into his own, fiercely glaring at him. But it was helpless- when he used his powers, his eyes, the tether to all his compassion and empathy, vanished. You knew it came from a place of love, of wanting to protect the humans from themselves. But he was losing himself along the way.

“You heard what happened, they don’t want me there,” he asserted, tilting his head sardonically. “How dare I question the authority of our great leader Arishem?”

“That’s not true,” you told him. “Ikaris is stoic, cold even. But everybody else… you’re our family, Druig. They love you, I love you.”

You could see the white in his eyes flicker and his deep brown eyes shine through. He dropped his head down to the ground and clenched his jaw tightly, as if he were conflicted.

“My beautiful, beautiful [Y/N]…” he started.

Why does he sound like he’s about to say goodbye.

He lifted his head, brown eyes completely on display now, and softly smiled at you. It was infectious, and soon you felt your own lips quirking upwards to mirror his. He cupped your face in his palms and ran his calloused thumb over your cheek before pressing a delicate kiss to your forehead.

“You always see the good in me,” he continued, sighing. “But you belong here, with Ajak, my darling. I know where your heart lies-“

“It lies with you-“

“It lies with your duties, your morals. That’s something I’ve always admired about you,” he told you firmly.

“I feel the same about you,” you said, voice cracking as a lump grew in your throat.

“Then you know now our paths go in two different directions.”

His expression was unreadable. You swore you could see tears in his eyes, but knew he would never let them fall. He considered himself too strong for that. Instead, he pressed his forehead against yours and took the sight of you in one more time.

“This isn’t goodbye, not permanently,” you told him, locking eyes. “I’ll see you again, I will.”

He shot you his signature smirk that never failed to melt your heart, his sad eyes now filling with mischief.

“Then I look forward to that day, my darling.”

-

The Brooklyn chill ran up your spine as you rushed down the block to your apartment. You quickly greeted your doorman before racing up the stairs onto your floor, stumbling with the keys in your hand. A sight of relief left your lips as you opened your front door and basked in the warmth of your heated apartment.

“Finally,” you mumbled, dropping your bag onto the floor, slipping your jacket off onto your dining table chair and letting out a tired sigh. You flicked the light switch on and turned to head towards the couch when you noticed a dark figure sitting there. Your squeal echoed around the studio as you clutched your heart at the unexpected scare.

“What the fuck, Druig!”

The man broke into maniacal cackles at your reaction, falling over on the cushion and holding his stomach.

“That was not funny!” You scolded, crossing your arms over your chest and huffing. “I haven’t seen you in centuries and this is what I get?”

He rolled his eyes at your theatrics before pulling himself off the couch and towards you. You noticed he had something in his hands, but that he was hiding it behind his back so you couldn’t see it.

“What is that?” You asked him, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Well, my darling, I was looking around your place and couldn’t help but notice this emerald tablet,” he told you, smirking and pulling it out from behind him. “And here I thought you never got it.”

You tried to snatch it out of his hand, but he was too quick, maneuvering it out of your reach. He took your movement as an excuse to inch closer to you, until you were nearly nose to nose. You could practically smell the worn leather of his jacket.

“My beautiful, beautiful [Y/N], did you miss me?” He whispered seductively. You could feel his breath on your face.

“You wish,” you teased, smiling at him. “But… and not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you here?”

His flirtatious smile dropped immediately, as if his heart had just split open for everyone to see.

“Druig?” You questioned softly, concern lacing your tone.

“Ajak is dead,” he spoke clearly. “The deviants are back.”

His voice may have been firm, but the look in his eyes betrayed him, displaying a deep grief and sadness you’d never seen him have before.

Your eyes widened, surely filled with the same pain, but the shock was too great for them to fill up with years just yet.

“No. That’s not possible,” you said, breaths quickening at an alarming pace. “I just talked to her a week ago. I mean it wasn’t really a full conversation, she texts like a grandma, but she can’t…she can’t be dead.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he whispered, his voice raspy and hoarse as he held you close. “But you have to come with us. The team is outside…they thought it would be best if I broke the news. After you, we’re headed to the Domo to find Makkari.”

It wasn’t until you felt salt on your lips that you realized you were crying. And it wasn’t until you felt the roughness of Druig’s fingertips that you realized he was wiping them away for you. You pressed your forehead into his, almost cuddling him, and sniffled.

“Sorry,” you whispered, voice breaking.

“No need to be. Take your time, those assholes can wait.”

You chuckled and leaned further into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his chest. You felt him nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin.

“I love you too,” you heard.

“W-What?” You stuttered, pulling away from his embrace slightly. He was no longer smirking, his mouth now stretched out in the most beautiful and genuine smile you’d ever seen him wear.

“You said it to me, back in Tenochtitlan. I never said it back,” he explained. “I’ve been thinking about that moment for 2,000 years, my darling [Y/N]. But I do. I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

With each profession of your love, you left a kiss on any area of his face you could reach- his cheek, nose, forehead, chin. Finally, you stopped right in front of his lips, eyes flickering to his to see if it was okay. Before you could react, he surged forward, capturing your lips with his own. He was a passionate man, and his kisses were no different. He wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, not allowing for any space between your bodies. All you could think about is how you wanted to feel his warm body pressed up against you for the rest of your eternal life.

Your arms snaked around his shoulders, fingers entangling with his soft, dark hair and pulling on it gently. He groaned into the kiss, lips sliding possessively over yours. It was like a secret language only the two of you knew. Your native tongues.

You both pulled away from each other once all the air had escaped your lungs, causing heavy panting between your smiles.

“What do you say, beautiful? Want to go kill Deviants together?” He asked, lifting his eyebrows playfully.

“I thought you’d never ask, my love.”

[katztails]

the deal

forgot to mention that this is a modern au

also lots of ooc moments, might be yandere as well

getting to know them

trying to keep your cool, you let bowers’ arms wrap around you, he was your ‘seatbelt,’ as he said just a few moments ago.

you had to admit, his grasp was comfortable, you almost started to lean into it, but quickly stopped yourself.

“so, newbie, where you from?” a voice from behind you hit your neck, making you jump, a chuckle comes from henry. “did i scare ya, sweetie?”

“i.. i’m from washington.. state.” (random choice) you said, flustered, “a.. a little bit.”

“are they breaking?” vic says in a taunting tone, reaching over and giving you a boop. “don’t worry, hon.”

“where are we going?” you asked, bowers put his head on one of your shoulders, the sudden touch made you jump again, “ah, shit.”

“sorry, newbie.” bowers said, “i just wanna introduce ourselves to you, and you do the same to us.”

“o-okay,” you said, “in town or somewhere else?”

“belch, pull into one of the parking lots.” bowers ordered, belch does so, pulling into a somewhat populared diner parking lot. putting the car in park, the car was still running. “alright.. let’s begin shall we?”

bowers grabbed you by the waist and slid you off his lap, putting you in the middle of him and patrick.

“i’ll start.” bowers said, “my name’s henry bowers, i’m the leader, i guess you could say, of this group. the dude in the driver seat is belch, but his real name is reginald.” belch gave you a small smile and wave, you waved back.

“you burp pretty loud or something?” the chubby boy nodded, he demonstrated, and impressed you, “you should teach me some time.”

“sure.” he said, chuckling softly.

“over there is vic.” henry said, pointing at the boy in the passenger seat, the platinum blonde haired boy winked at you, “and last but not least, we have patrick.”

“so, a human teddy bear, two doppelgängers of the villian that everyone wishes was dating them, and an outsider?” you said, thinking put loud, “sorry, i just like making analogies.”

“you’re good, newbie.”

meanwhile..

“w-what do you mean they were taken by b-bowers?” a worried bill asked, ben had just explained what had happened.

“we were gonna hang out at the library for a while, but bowers had taken me before i could even enter the place, (name) had arrived a few moments after.” ben said, “t-they protected me, bowers and his goons took them after they pushed me down the hill.”

“we have to get them back.” eddie exclaimed, “bowers probably took interest in them.

“i am who wouldn’t? they’re so hot.” richie said, licking his lips, only to get wacked by beverly, “ow!”

“now’s not the time to joke about this shit, we have to get them out of danger!” beverly called out.

“you’re right.” mike said, “..but where would they be?”

“look for that blue car.” eddie said, “that’s their bus.”

“c’mon then, w-we sh-should get (n)-(name) back.” bill ordered, the rest of the group agrees and gets on their bikes. “they’re h-hopefully in t-town.”

back with you..

bowers decided that it was time to propose a deal.

“w-what?!”

“you heard me, we’ll leave your friends alone, if you hang out with us.”

“why do you like me so much, i barely know you people?”

“yes, you do, darling.” henry said, cupping your chin, while patrick, who was behind you, played with your hair. “well, not yet. but, we know you like it’s the back of our hands.”.

“you’ve been spying on me?” you ask, henry smiles at you with a bit of possessiveness. “i-i’m sorry, but i just need some..”

“don’t worry, sweets. neither of us will do anything to harm you, all you gotta do is ask us to stop, and we’ll stop.” henry said, before leaning in to you.

before anything could happen, a loud bang from outside the car was heard, it was richie.

“HEY, THAT’S MY HOT BABE!”

[gcdlsskxng-a-blog]

SHIP tags [WIP]

♛۞♛...❝I’ll definitely protect you at least, no matter what!❞ ; cielizzy ♛۞♛...❝Why put your faith in GOD when the DEVIL is beside you?❞ ; sebaciel ♛۞♛...❝We’ll only fly higher as we are struck down!❞ ; cielois ♛۞♛...❝Not all humans are ugly and you’re the reason why.❞ ; finniel