#I’m very normal about skeleton men

[leahdrawsthings06]

So I found a mini Christmas… comic? I made back In June and thought I’d try making it again but nicer. (Also actually during Christmas time) 7 and half hours later of work it’s finished!

I swear I didn’t mean to work this hard on it but in the end ended up making much more of a story out of it- (my desire to write a 100,000+ word fanfic of these skeletons / Y/n grows by the day and it scares me ;-;)

Also here’s the original if anyone was curious:

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 46

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

A/N: Apologies for the short season finale chapter! This will be the last one for a bit while I do my little writer dance and churn out more chapters. Should not be as long of a hiatus this time, promise.

Summary: After reuniting with Michonne, Rick and Carl, Iris and Daryl find themselves at the end of a long road, but the destination isn't all they'd hoped for. Or all that was promised. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; theft; imprisonment; holding people at gunpoint; gunfight; being treated like animals; implications of cannibalism; threatening murder; threatening torture

Chapter 46 - Sunshine and Daisies

Rick found a small creek to wash up at, and while the water was cold, when he returned he was no longer covered in blood. They gathered what was useful, what they’d scavenged, and headed back on the train tracks. To… Terminus. Iris and Daryl both didn’t put a lot of stock into what Joe claimed about the place. But they were still wary. Sanctuary could be a lot of different things to different people.

Carl was walking alongside Iris. When he woke up that morning and exited the truck, he’d practically leapt into her arms. She almost toppled over, laughing. It was good he could still be a kid that way. She was very glad to see him alive and well, but she didn’t ask about Judith. Supposedly Lizzie and Mika took her with them on the bus, but they had no idea where they were. They came upon another Terminus sign, this one knocked off of the post.

“We’re getting close. Be there before sundown.” Daryl murmured.

“Now we head through the woods.” Rick advised. “We don’t know who they are.” They meandered off of the tracks and into the woods. It was only about an hour before Daryl spotted the fence surrounding the rail yards Terminus sat in. It was fairly overgrown, spikes and overturned tables meant to keep the walkers out. They all stopped to peer through the fence, seeing nothing in particular. The main building had letters painted in the windows. “Spread out. Watch for a while. See what we see, get ready. We all stay close.” 

Daryl nodded to Iris and they peeled off to the right, walking along the fence. They saw nothing out of the ordinary, returning after a while. Rick had the idea to bury the extra weapons and a few guns in a bag in the ground, just in case things went sour. Iris put a few knives in there, too. They hopped over the chain link from where they were, running around the building and in through a fire exit.

A voice spoke loudly, echoing instructions. The same instructions they barely heard over the radio on their way to the Big Spot. Iris didn’t understand until then. They walked down the corridor, weapons raised, and saw a woman in a large room with a map, speaking into a microphone. The radio broadcast was live, from right here. Further into the room, there were more people. They were making maps, making the signs they saw posted far and wide.

“Hello.” Rick said quietly, announcing their presence as they walked into the room. The old woman at the microphone stuttered, turning in shock. He said it louder to the others in the room as the five of them stood in a line. One of the men making signs sighed loudly, putting down his paintbrush haphazardly.

“Well, I bet Albert is on perimeter watch.” He said, feigning annoyance for the sake of humour. No one laughed. He walked closer to greet them. “You here to rob us?” He asked.

“No.” Rick replied. “We wanted to see you before you saw us.” The man nodded, seemingly amused.

“Makes sense.” He agreed. He walked further to meet them at a normal distance. “Usually we do this where the tracks meet. Welcome to Terminus.” He spread his arms wide. “I’m Gareth. Looks like you’ve been on the road for a good bit.”

“We have.” Rick replied with a nod. “I’m Rick. That’s Carl, Daryl, Michonne, Iris.” Gareth waved awkwardly. No one really moved and he smiled again.

“You're nervous, I get it. We were all the same way. We came here for sanctuary. That what you’re here for?”

“Yes.” Rick replied honestly. 

“Good. You found it.” Gareth nodded. He turned around, calling over someone named Alex. Another young man jogged forward, smiling awkwardly at them. “This isn’t as pretty as the front. We’ve got nothing to hide, but the welcome wagon is a whole lot nicer. Alex will take you, ask you a few questions. Uh, but first… we need to see everyone’s weapons. If you could just lay them down in front of you.” They all paused, looking to Rick. He pondered for a moment before grabbing his gun.

“Alright.” He agreed, laying it down.

“I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, I do.” Rick murmured, watching Gareth very carefully. They all followed suit. Loud clanging echoed through the room and every head turned to look at Iris, who pointedly was tossing her knives on the ground. Each of them rang out as they hit the concrete, and she got to twelve before she decided to keep the rest hidden on her person. Gareth blinked, his amused look back.

“I’m sure you understand.” Iris parroted, making Gareth chuckle to himself.

“Yes, I do.” He agreed, surveying the plethora of weapons they provided. Not much (except for Iris) but enough to keep them alive. Gareth and Alex motioned for them to put their hands up, coming forward and frisking them for more weapons. Alex tried to hide his wince as he got to Daryl, laughing nervously.

“I’d hate to see the other guy.” He joked.

“You would.” Rick replied, deadpan. Alex swallowed thickly. He seemed jumpy. He got to Iris, patting her down as usual. None of her remaining knives were capable of being felt through her clothing, she ensured that. He didn’t find them. 

“They deserve it?” Alex asked, moving to Carl.

“Yes.” He said darkly. Gareth patted Rick on the back as they finished.

“Just so you know, we aren’t those kind of people, but we aren’t stupid either. You shouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything stupid. As long as everyone’s clear on that, we shouldn’t have any problems. Just solutions.” Iris had to resist the urge to snort. She made eye contact with Rick, which told her he didn’t buy this scripted bullshit either. 

He nodded along with Gareth anyways, and Alex started handing back their weapons. He was tentative to reach into Iris pile of knives, and she smiled knowingly, sheathing them all much faster than he would have picked them up. He led them back out through the building, though through a different door. 

“So how long’s this place been here?” Daryl asked, close behind Alex. 

“Since almost the start.” He replied. “When all the camps got overrun, people started finding this place.” They exited another fire door, finding themselves in a walkway that was lined with flowerbeds. They consisted of herbs, vegetables, flowers. Daisies and cabbages. There was a table with washboards and buckets for laundry, though Iris noted it seemed a little staged. “I think it was instinct, you know? Follow a path. Some folks were heading to the coast, others out west or up north, but they all wound up here.” The walkway led them to a large courtyard, a bigger garden bed in the middle. It was all lush, green. A woman stood grilling something on a long barbecue, and she smiled at them as Alex approached. There were others milling about, but not many.

“Hi.” The woman greeted. She was older, long red hair tied back in a braid. “Heard you came in the back door. Smart. You’ll fit right in here.”

“Hey, Mary, would you fix each of these new folks a plate for me?” Alex asked.

“Why do you do it?” Michonne asked suddenly. “Let people in?”

“The more people become a part of us, we get stronger.” Alex replied. “That’s why we put up the signs, invite people in.” Iris turned from examining the barbecue as Rick nudged her elbow. He gestured out into the courtyard, and she took a look around. 

There were tables and chairs set up everywhere, umbrellas and picnic tablecloths. People sat quietly, eating, doing what they would. Except it looked forced, almost. She also noticed three outliers. The first, a woman carrying around bright orange backpack that looked quite similar to one Glenn had taken from a dead hitchhiker, a man wearing riot gear identical to that they wore at the prison, and what was unmistakably Daryl’s bloodstained poncho. 

Alex handed Michonne and Carl each a plate of food as Mary cut up the meat. Rick turned to Iris and she nodded, her hands slowly drifting down to her knives. Rick stalked forward, knocking the plate Alex was offering out of his hand, yanking the chain of a pocket watch he had in his pants with one hand, the other bringing the pistol he took from Joe up to Alex’s temple. Iris removed the plates from Michonne and Carl’s hands, stepping in between them and the others in the courtyard, knives out. Daryl immediately had his crossbow pointing at Mary, Michonne and Carl pulling out their own weapons.

“Where the hell did you get this watch?” Rick asked, pulling up the pocket watch. Hershel’s pocket watch. One he’d given to Glenn a long time ago. Alex put his hands up. The others in the courtyard drew their weapons, aiming at them, but they had Alex hostage. 

“You want answers, you want anything else, you get ‘em when you put down the gun.” Alex pleaded.

“I see your man on the roof with a sniper rifle. How good’s his aim?” Rick hissed, looking up. Iris followed his gaze, catching the sniper’s aim. “My friend here with the knives is more than capable of taking him out with one throw. So I suggest you answer my question. Where’d you get the watch?” Iris prepared a small knife, her favourite for throwing. Small like a dart, perfect for sinking into an eye socket. “Where’d you get the watch?!”

“Don’t do anything!” Alex yelled to the sniper. “I have this! You just put it down. Put it down!” The man followed his instructions. “You want to listen to me, there’s a lot of us.” Alex warned.

“Where did you get the watch?” Rick repeated.

“I got it off of a dead one. I didn’t think he’d need it.” Alex replied. Rick was not satisfied with that answer, jerking Alex in the direction of the other stolen items.

“What about the riot gear? The poncho?”

“Got the riot gear off of a dead cop.” Gareth called. Iris spun, holding her knife out toward him. He grimaced. “Found the poncho on a clothesline.”

“Likely.” Iris hissed.

“Gareth, we can wait.” Alex wheezed around Rick’s grip.

“Shut up, Alex.”

“You talk to me.” Rick demanded.

“What’s there left to say?” Gareth asked. “You don’t trust us anymore.”

“Gareth—“

“Shut. Up.” He hissed, holding up a hand. “It’s okay. Rick, what do you want?”

“Where are our people?” Rick asked.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Gareth replied. Iris flipped her knife, preparing to cut his hand all the way off. Rick threw Alex to the ground, gunshots sounding from others in the courtyard. “Hey!” They all opened fire, creating a war zone. They ducked back down the pathway to the exit, but the man with the sniper rifle had switched to an automatic, shooting into the concrete at their feet. They ran through the courtyard, avoiding fire as best as they could. They seemed to be pretty shit shots, firing into the ground more so than anywhere else.

They ducked into the nearest warehouse, the garage doors on the opposite side sliding shut with a loud bang. Daryl called, finding another doorway, but it was welded shut with rebar. They had one option left, a single door with a large ‘A’ painted on the front. Iris felt sick to her stomach. This was a trap. They were fucking herding them somewhere.

Through the door came more gunshots, urging them across what appeared to be a damn battlefield. Crates were placed strategically around the empty lot, the brick walls and boarded up windows absolutely riddled with bullet holes. Lamb to the slaughter.

“Daryl!” Iris called ahead.

“I know!” He replied. They kept running. In the distance, Iris heard Gareth yell to get them off of ‘B’. They were herded down another walkway, barely glimpsing a fenced-in area, holding piles of fucking skeletons and various (presumably) human organs. Another garage door slid shut ahead of them, voices calling out for help. Iris turned, hearing banging from the inside of shipping containers. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. “What the hell?”

“Keep going!” Rick called. They ran into the only open garage door left, back into the ‘A’ building. Michonne ran first, pushing open the door to another room. It was like the warehouse they had entered through, except the room was filled with candles, small picture frames, chalk writing on the walls and floors.

“What the hell is this place?” Daryl asked, his nose scrunching up as they slowed.

“Said it yourself. Hell.” Iris replied. This specific room appeared to be a memorial for their fallen, but there was more to it. There were thick black letters on the wall. NEVER AGAIN. NEVER TRUST. WE FIRST. ALWAYS.

“These people, I don’t think they’re trying to kill us.” Michonne muttered.

“No. They were aiming at our feet.” Rick agreed.

“They’re leading us somewhere. It’s a trap.” Iris replied. Rick guided them to an open door. Someone slammed it shut just as they reached the threshold, a lock clicking in place. The only one left was on the adjacent wall.

“There.” Daryl pointed.

“Go!” Rick urged. They were back outside, the bullets curbing Daryl’s path to the right, the fence so close, yet so far. As soon as they looked at it, the sound of guns cocked, barrels and eyes peering through the holes in the chain link. The overgrown foliage was as much for keeping them inside than it was for keeping walkers outside. More snipers aimed at them through the roof, and Iris was close to losing her shit.

“I don’t appreciate fucking mind games!” Iris yelled to all of them, pacing in a circle like a cornered lion. They waited in baited silence for something to happen. Rick turned back to Carl, who was panting and trembling in fear. 

“No mind games. Just drop your weapons. Now!” Gareth called from one of the rooftops. “Now!” He repeated. They each slowly dropped the weapons in their hands, Iris now using her free hand to flip him off. “All of them, Rambo!” The clattering sounded again as Iris pulled her knives free of their sheaths. “Ringleader! Go to your left! The train car, go! You do what we say, the boy goes with you. Anything else, he dies and you end up in there anyway.”

Iris was beginning to have suspicions about these people. Mystery meat. Human remains. People clawing at shipping containers crying for help. To be fair, these people seemed a little sickly, too. Skinny. She was hoping, praying that she was wrong. Rick nodded to Carl gently, walking toward the train car. 

“Now the archer!” Gareth called. Daryl followed suit. “Now the samurai.” Michonne next. “Your turn, Rambo.” Iris offered him a deadly smile as she did what she was told, and he shifted, thoroughly unsettled. She was on the edge of unhinged, and she would rain hellfire when given the chance. After all they’d been through, this was the fucking cake. Carl then stood alone in the middle of the lot. “Stand at the door, ringleader, archer, samurai, Rambo. In that order.” They did as they were told.

“My son!” Rick called.

“Go, kid.” Gareth conceded, Carl walking calmly toward them to join in the line. “Ringleader, open the door and go in.”

“I’ll go in with him.” Rick called.

“Don’t make us kill him now.” Gareth threatened. They went in in order, Carl slowly catching up to them, climbing inside. Rick held him tightly as the door closed and latched behind them. 

“I’m going to skin him alive.” Iris hissed, already pulling at the door from the inside.

“Iris?” A voice asked softly from the other end of the train car. They all stopped, turning to see Glenn walk slowly out of the darkness. Followed by Maggie, Sasha. Bob.

“You’re here.” Rick breathed. “You’re here.” They all came out of the shadows, accompanied by four new faces. A young woman with short brown hair, a tall ginger man with a moustache that looked like he walked out of a cheesy war movie, a shorter, round man with a raging mullet, and a young thin woman with pigtails and an army-issue hat. 

“They’re our friends.” Maggie explained softly. “They helped save us.”

“Yeah.” Daryl nodded. “Now they’re friends of ours.”

“For however long that’ll be.” The ginger man grunted cynically. He turned away.

“No. They’re gonna feel pretty stupid when they find out.” Rick murmured.

“Find out what?”

“They’re screwing with the wrong people.”

-

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

@fadingpalacebonkpsychic

[giselberts]

Nehrim Fic - talking about hair and boys like very normal girls do

yes thats the actual title of the fic

I'm fucking around with the timeline a bit and leaving a day between Kim/SG's return to the Sanctum after their journey to Stormwend just so that they can gossip and have their #girlmoment and pretend that they’re soo normal and not handpicked soldiers for a revolution. Kim is a lil out of character but that’s because she’s copying Gisele, since homie had uh. A rough childhood, so she’s just looking up to her :) anyways this was indulgent and I wanted to write some fun backstory on why gisele has white hair!!

read on AO3 here - full fic under the cut

----

They each had their own bed, and yet, they'd quickly picked up the habit of sneaking into each other's bed, and talking until they fell asleep soundly, feeling safe only if they were sharing the same covers.

Tonight was no different, and in fact, what had just transpired would prove to lead them into idle conversation that would last until the first sunrays of the day, just to take their minds off of things. Merzul, unaware of their nightly rituals, simply would let them rest into the late hours of the morning, thinking that Stormwend had tired them out.

"I think he looked quite stupid. They both did." Gisele said, thinking about the two men they had met inside of the tower- Arkt and Narathzul, the fabled leader of their revolution.

Kim quickly replied, remembering that if she had nothing nice to say, then she shouldn't say anything, but she desperately wanted to talk. "His hair looked nice, I liked that. I wonder how he's keeping his tan though, if he's all locked up."

Gisele gathered her thoughts for a moment, trying to remember what had gone through her head back then.

"He looks so smug. I get that weird Arkt guy, I'd like to punch him too, I think. But he's our leader, so I better have a back-up plan if I'm ever tempted."

"He's got ambition, that's always good to have. You... don't think there's anything nice about him?"

"I don't know... He seems insufferable, to be honest. Never liked guys like him. But if I had to say something nice? I guess he's got a nice butt."

"Huh... I suppose so, I wasn't looking there." Kim gave her friend a confused look, trying to understand what had led her to do so.

"I have it figured out! He's the kind of person that I'd kiss only to make them shut up." Gisele continued, after waiting for a few seconds of silence.

"You don't have to do that, I think. You could just... chuck an apple in there."

"Or my fist."

"That Arkt guy seems keen on getting his hands on him, you could join his side and bond over your desire to knock him down. You could dress up in matching black armour, and take the Sanctum for yourselves."

"I could, yes. He was weirdly creepy though, don't you think? Do you think he was hanging around in his armour, just waiting for someone to come in?"

"I hope not, that would be a bit sad of him. Pathetic, even." Kim paused for a moment, asking the Creator to forgive her for what she said and was about to say, before continuing. "His armour was a bit much."

"You’re right, it looked a bit stupid. Who is he trying to intimidate with those skulls? Babies? He should’ve gone for something a bit more… real. Like a bear. Skeletons are just bones, we all have those, so it’s not that scary."

“Sure,” Kim nodded, trying to hold in laughter.

“Do you think that Narathzul is afraid of skeletons? And that’s why Arkt has skulls on his stuff?”

Kim let a giggle escape, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Why are you giggling? You know I’m right.”

“No, no, you are. But you were the one yelling ‘Fuck off! I’m DEFINITELY not scared of you!’ at the skeletons that were chasing us.” Kim erupted into laughter, burying her face into her pillow to avoid making too much noise, and getting Acorias to yell at them to go to sleep.

“Hey!” It was Gisele’s turn to laugh, getting the last of her stress out of her body.

Eventually, they calmed down, and staring at the ceiling, Kim instinctively took a lock of her own hair and started braiding it, Gisele’s eyes riveted on the intricate handiwork.

“Weird question, but do all Aeterna have nice hair? You, Narathzul, Arkt… you’re all Aeterna, and your hair looks so silky.” She couldn’t help but ask. She was just a human, and she’d never spoken to an Aeterna until the recent events. She was glad that Kim was nice, and perhaps a bit naïve, so that she’d indulge her questions without worrying about sounding rude, something that she was good at, because she was Gisele.

“I can’t say for sure. But maybe.” Kim turned to face her friend, before asking a question of her own. “Why is your hair short? Do you keep it like that for efficiency?”

“I don’t know, actually. At the abbey, they didn’t really treat me like a girl nor a boy, so I never really wanted to keep my hair long. Sometimes, I like to think that they simply forgot to assign me a gender at birth, and that’s why the abbey was like that with me. Besides, with all the trouble I got into as a kid, keeping my hair short was a smart move.” She edged closer to Kim, before revealing one of her adventures. “One time when I got lice, and I shook my head over the kids that I didn’t like and that didn’t like me.”

“Gisele! That’s terrible!” Kim cried out, in a half-offended, half-bewildered voice. “You’re the one that the Light-born should’ve locked up.”

“It’s true. With that head of hair, Narathzul clearly didn’t do half of the warfare I did as a child. But he did do worse later on, I guess that makes up for it.” She stopped for a moment, before continuing. “Despite what I’ve said about him, I’m glad that at least someone’s working to make things change. Sticking up for the little man is always a good thing.”

“Look! Now there’s a second thing you like about him.” Kim jokingly pointed out, poking Gisele’s cheek before changing back the subject to her friend. “You should grow your hair out a bit, like up to your temples. You’d look like a boisterous knight in shining armour then.”

“I don’t know what that means, but it sounds nice.” Gisele raised up her hand to pass it through her hair, not much longer than an inch at most, almost bare in some places as Duras, who had been in charge of cutting it, was rather keen on hacking it with the dullest scissors he could find, and Gisele was never good at sitting still.

“You know how to read better than I do, right? We could sneak into the library, find a spell that lets you grow out your hair faster maybe. You help me read, and I’ll take care of the magick.” There was a rare glimmer of lighthearted mischief in Kim’s eyes, one that Gisele rarely saw, and that she loved seeing. With only a grin forming on her face that Kim took as approval, the two snuck out of bed, hissing when they felt their feet against bare cold stone floor.

Using light blankets as capes to shield themselves from the cold of the night, they made their way to the library, empty, save for a few floating orbs of light, cast from enchanted gems, keeping the room from sinking into complete darkness.

“Changing my hair… That would be Light Magic, right?” Gisele wondered, her voice low to avoid grabbing anyone’s attention. She rushed over to the appropriate section, her fingers wandering all over the spines of the thick and heavy tomes, some untouched in decades.

“I think so. I’ll look over there, I’ll tell you if I’ve found anything.”

Holding onto one of the gems for light, Gisele resumed her search, telling herself that she’s glad that she was recruited to fight, and not to study and research. Though, seeing as her magick skills were quite lacking, she could benefit from cracking open a book or two- an idea that she quickly shook away from her mind, deciding that it was the Sanctum’s problem, to recruit her and place her into their ranks without making sure first that she could in fact cast more than a simple fireball or hovering light.

“I think I have something here!” Kim loudly whispered, waving at Gisele to join her and crouch down to her level. “ ’Looks and Appearances’, that should be what we’re looking for, right?”

As Gisele nodded, Kim pulled the tome out, opening it to its index and doing her best to quickly decipher what page would be of interest as she rose up again.

“Alright… here goes nothing!” Gisele stood still in anticipation as Kim read the spell under her breath, underlining the words with her fingers as she went, her free hand waving around, rich and flowing with mana.

The glow in Kim’s hand must’ve been strong, or they weren’t silent enough, but just as the spell left her hands, the two had managed to catch Acorias’ attention.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” His voice vibrated throughout the library, full of anger from being woken up, and from having to intervene. His heavy footsteps resonated as he climbed up the stairs, and Kim and Gisele knew that time was short- either they hid, or they ran. Instinctively, they ducked, hoping to gain a few seconds.

Despite the darkness of the library, Gisele spotted the staircase that led upstairs, and grabbing Kim’s hand, they carefully threaded along the bookshelves, staying low and hoping their makeshift capes wouldn’t snag on anything that could slow them down.

While Gisele almost fell down straight on her face as she shuffled her feet a bit too fast and Kim could barely hold in her “Oh no, oh Gods no”, they had safely made it upstairs, they let out a deep sigh of relief once they had found refuge against the wall and heard Acorias leave.

“We’re definitely doing this again,” Gisele excitedly said, a grin on her face from the thrill of their adventure.

“No we’re not! I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest!” Kim repeatedly hit her on her arm, albeit gently.

“So… you’re alright with breaking me out of wherever it was that Kreo held me, risking your life and mine, but sneaking into a library is too much?” Gisele joked, knowing that Kim was only exaggerating.

“That’s!! Entirely different!” She replied, still continuing to hit her as Gisele giggled under the friendly hits. “Wait…” Kim suddenly stopped, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Wait what? He’s already gone by now, we can go back to your bed.”

“No, not that. Your hair, it’s…” Kim couldn’t continue, apprehensive of Gisele’s reaction, and instead pointed towards the mirror at the end of the hall.

As Gisele got up to see herself, she cast a small orb of light, barely enough to illuminate her, but it didn’t matter much. As long as she could see herself, that was all that she needed. Though she wasn’t one that cared much for how she looked, there was unease building up in her, afraid that Kim had given her a tonsure, or worse, made her entirely bald, save for a few strands that she felt that were tickling her forehead.

“Kim!” As the ball of light hovered around her, Gisele turned her head left, then right, left again, trying to take in her new hairstyle. “You made me old!”

“No I didn’t!” Kim rushed to the mirror, trying to assess the extent of her damages.

Gisele tried her best to keep her voice down, hoping to avoid waking up the mages sleeping in the rooms next to them by opting to loudly whisper. “Uh, you did! My hair’s all white! Pretty and a bit longer, but white! I can’t be an old lady at twenty-three years old!”

“We’ll find some way to dye it, I’m sure of it! Besides, look at your face, not a single wrinkle in sight.” Kim passed her fingers over her friend’s cheeks and jaw, making sure of her statement. “Oh, your skin is really soft.”

“That’s not the point, Kim. One day, I’m going to have to rescue Narathzul from his pretty princess prison, and he’ll ask why the Sanctum why the world’s oldest twentysomething was sent instead of the most impressive knight available! I can’t let him down like that!”

“I thought you hated him?”

“I’m very distressed right now, I’m allowed to be conflicted about my feelings for him!” Gisele took in a deep breath. Her face softened, realising that in fact, she wasn’t very distressed, and she was simply dealing with many changes in her life in such little time, and her hair was the last straw. And besides, the white was nice on her, and the length gave her that ‘boisterous knight’ charm that Kim was talking about. “I’m not mad at you, by the way. You made my hair look nicer than ever.”

“You’re weird.” Kim was overcome with relief, before giggling.

“And you’re my friend. Therefore, you’re just as weird as I am.” Gisele took hold of Kim’s hand, deciding that they had enough adventure in their day, and started walking back out, wanting nothing more than the comfort of a bed, and a few hours of sleep.

[ezzydean]

Would it be a prompt fest if I didn't send ya a trick or treat for Betty^3? (bonus if you throw Suga in cause we all know those three love him)

come trick-or-treat in my inbox requesting ficcies and I’ll either treat you to some fluff or humor or trick you with a horribly twisted sad AU  (I’ll use a random generator to pick trick or treat)

send me “trick or treat” and a character(s) or ship in my inbox and I’ll write you a short little thing (I’ll be doing these all of October so send away!)

FIRST TRICK OR TREAT OF 2022 DONE!!!

(and it is the trio of chaotic OCs originally made for that one HQ fic forever ago)

treat (congrats)

“Are you sure about this?”

“Normally I’d say no, but I’m on my 14th candy cane, so why not?”

Koushi pauses in the doorway and, for a few long seconds, seriously considers the choices he’s made in his life that have led to this moment.  Then Kiyo looks up and spots him and his face lights up and Koushi starts questioning those life choices, instead of just considering them.

Shiro rubs at his temples as he slips past Koushi, giving him a tired smile that Koushi returns.

“It is the first day of October,” Shiro says.  “Where did you even find a single candy cane.  Let alone fourteen of them?”

Kiyo’s grin, somehow, gets even brighter.  It’s an intriguing counterpoint to the way Akira’s face pales as he tries to disappear into the couch cushions.

“Did you know,” Kiyo says around the candy cane in his mouth, “you can buy things in bulk?”

“You don’t have a credit card for this very reason, Kiyo,” Shiro reminds him.  “You flat out told me to not let you have one.”

Kiyo’s laugh has that edge of sugar rush to it that Koushi is more used to experiencing in the children he teaches than the men whose couch he occasionally crashes on.  Akira is trying really, really hard to become one with the couch cushions and normally Koushi would take pity on him.  Except he really doesn’t feel like being on Shiro’s bad side this week.  He just got off of Shiro’s bad side after that whole spray paint hair spray mix up thing.

So he puts on his best ‘teacher face’ and looks between Kiyo and Akira a few times and does his best to telepathically tell them that one of them just needs to own up.

“I don’t, no.”  Kiyo flops over and drops his head in Akira’s lap.  “But Akira does.”

“Akira.”

Koushi winces and he’s not even the one Shiro’s disappointed tone is directed at.

“No,” Akira says.  Koushi stands up a little taller at the tone of Akira’s voice.  He doesn’t hear that tone often but when he does?  Oh, he loves to listen to it.

“No?”

“No.  I choose the lesser evil.  Next time?  Next time I will let him buy the candy corn and mini glow-in-the-dark skeletons in bulk and then leave him for you to deal with.  And you know he will find a way.  If not me.  Then someone else.”  Akira points at the fluffy head in his lap.  “I mean.  Look at him.  He might as well be a freaking fae prince from another realm or something.  As far as I’m concerned a little bit of a sugar rush is a small price to pay to not have to see his dumb sad face all day long.”

“He has a point,” Koushi says when Shiro looks at him for support.  “It is a hard face to say no to.”

“Yep.  That’s how I got Shiro,” Kiyo announces.  “And Akira.  And Koushi.  I win!”

[noisyalmonddreamer]

My judgment on you based on who you simp for

(A/n) This is technically a valentines day post but I’m impatient so.... 

Percy:

You don’t like change. He was probably one of your first if not first “official” book character crushes. You also probably have trust issues and or attachment issues. Things that upset you don’t make sense to others normally. You might not have liked Annabeth at first cause you felt jealous. Oh wait, did you hear that? It’s the sound of your 30 alarms going off all from over an hour ago. You should go handle that.

 Jason:

DID SOMEONE SAY DADDY ISSUES- Jk. Kinda… you like him but you’re not intense about it. UNLESS someone goes on the whole “Jason is a worst version of Percy” or something kinda like that. Then you will tie them down and…havoc. In an IRL relationship you want someone stable who's generally pretty mature.

 Leo:

Okay. Listen. I like you. But we get it. We ALL get it. You like him. You don’t need to bring it up every second tho. Also when are you gonna face that childhood trauma? You just gonna let it sit there while you read fanfic and listen to character audios or…Also PLEASE go take a mental health day instead of giving yourself busy work to ignore it. 

 Nico:

bro. Please. Tame your savior complex. It’s screaming right now. Gasping for breath. But he probably was the first like “emo” type character you fell for and now your favorites are always the emo loner types. You really enjoy characters with sad backstories. If you watched Voltron you probably liked Keith. There’s also a huge change that you have those fingerless gloves with skeleton hands on them. Also please sit up straight. Your back is screaming in pain rn

 Frank:

…Is everything okay at home? I understand. You want rank to hug you while you cry.I’ve never met a mean Frank simp. You’re a sweetheart. I give you a kith on the forehead *mewa* also sweetie…you’re not annoying them by texting them. Just text your friends. They want to hear from you 

 Will:

Listen. I’m also mad Will doesn’t get a lot of attention. But you don’t need to write a 50 slide presentation on why he’s a good character and shouldn’t only be used as Nico’s boyfriend (but I get it) anyway…You’re a bisexual(or really anywhere under the liking multiple gender umbrella). Who’s either very offended by “liking men is disgusting” jokes or finds them very funny. No middle ground. That or you’re mentally unstable. Or both. Probably both. But real talk, bestie, go take some time off. You need it. 

 ALSO ISTG IF I SEEN ANY CHILDREN OF APOLLO HERE-

 Magnus:

He formed your type. If you watch MHA you like Denki. You like the dumb ass characters who could probably kill you instantly. YOU ALSO NEED TO DRINK SOME WATER HOLY HERACLES. You also probably like the goofy characters that have sad backstories. You relate to Luisa Madrigal way too much. You’re the therapist friend and are about to break. Please get help bestie.

 Hearth: 

Either you’re the sweetest person alive or a living nightmare. But like… are y’all okay? You’re starving for Hearthstone content. You probably got a lot of responsibility put on you as a kid. Also when people talk about the elf boys they had a crush on you talk about hearthstone and everyone’s confused. If you were younger when you read the series (and had a crush on him) you were interested in learning sign.

 Alex:

Just say you’d date yourself. Your form of flirtation is being mean to someone. There’s a good chance Alex was your first (clear) queer crush. You probably searched up “is it gay to like a gender fluid person?” Like 30 times. Bro you need to stop bottling up your emotions till one tiny thing breaks you. It’s not healthy. Maybe try emotional journaling, it works better than you’d think.

[mellowyandere]

You’re Ours to Protect

Had a weird dream last night. Thought you might enjoy it. 

Reader: F

Characters: Toshinori Yagi (All Might), Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead), Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)

Summary: Your time as an anti-hero might finally be coming to an end. With three pros on your tail it’s a miracle this didn't happen sooner. (Reader has a quirk but it’s not very important to the smut.)

Length: 4.5 K (I have come to the conclusion that I am incapable of writing below 4 K)

Warnings: non-con, yandere themes, slight bondage/restraints, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, anal fingering, anal sex, M/M/F, mostly clothed male, naked reader, slight cum swallowing, Eraserhead and Present Mic are in an established relationship in this fic. 

Hands were on your body, hands that shouldn’t be there. Your mind was stuck in a fog, your limbs so heavy you could barely move them. What was going on? You strained to remember, thinking long and hard about what might have led you here as calloused fingers blazed trails along your exposed thighs. You managed to wiggle your limbs a bit, shaking off the haze that muddled your brain.

You groaned, trying to open your eyes so you can get a better understanding of your surroundings. Your hands were restrained behind your back but it seemed your legs were free. You'd murder who ever had their fucking hands on you. As your eyes adjusted to the light you couldn't help but groan again as the figure in front of you came into view. You tried and failed to subtly use your quirk, this didn’t look good.

“Eraserhead. Didn’t realize you were still wasting your time looking for me. Not my fault I beat you to that criminal. Hero’s leaving trash like him alive is such a stupid concept. He was a murderer you know.” 

You looked around to the best of your ability as you spoke, you were sitting on a plush dark green couch in what appeared to be a relatively empty basement. You had been stripped of your gear, leaving you in your underwear and an oversized t-shirt. Two men were flanking you on the couch. The one to your left you didn't recognize. He was ridiculously tall, as well as skinny. Blond hair a mess as two long bangs hid his eyes from view. To your right was a pro you did recognize. His emerald green eyes sparkled in delight behind his civilian glasses as he grinned down at you. So it was their hands on your body currently. They’d die first then. 

“So, what does that make you?” the dark haired pro murmured, leaning forwards and somewhat regaining your attention. 

You ignored his question, opting to look about some more. There wasn't a one-way mirror or any recording device in sight. Were they interrogating you off the books? This whole situation seemed off, these were heroes right? They’d convict you and leave you to rot in a dingy jail cell somewhere.. but this didn't look like a normal interrogation room. 

“I know this is my first time getting caught and all but this doesn’t really seem up to protocol. Gonna haul me away after having fun or something?” You shifted your gaze to the obsidian eyes in front of you, leaning forwards to mimic his posture. 

Present Mic barked out a laugh, hand squeezing harder on you thigh much to your annoyance. “Sorry babe but prison won’t be your final destination! I mean after all y’aint evil, just a lil misguided is all, nothin’ three pros can’t fix.” He ended his sentence with a pinch to your leg. 

“If you don’t get your fucking hands off me I’ll kill you!” You snarled, turning and getting up in Present Mic’s face. The tall blond to your left pulled his hands back, scooting away as Present Mic continued to leer down at you. 

“HAH little girls got some bite, but we already knew that. Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to use that quirk. I’m hurt now! You really would try to kill me huh?” he mocked with a fake pout, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. 

“I’m sure you’ve already realized by now you can’t use your quirk. It wasn’t easy making a device to cancel it out, but thanks to our newest colleague here the hardest part was collecting your DNA and picking what color collar we wanted.” Eraserhead leaned forward, fingers tugging on the collar you only now just realized was around your neck.

You tried to bite him, but he pulled back. If only you could wipe that stupid smirk off his face with a heart attack. Your quirk was the ability to clot blood after all. A handy trick if you found yourself injured, but even more so for killing once you learned how to properly control it. No one really batted an eye at an ischemic stroke due to the clotting of an artery to the brain. Well.. almost nobody.. 

“You have a very impressive ability,” the tall blond stated, “in all honesty we probably wouldn’t have caught on if we hadn’t watched you kill. You’ve induced countless of natural looking deaths, but upon closer inspection you target people whose crimes would have landed them in jail. Noble, but very misguided. You’re pretty reckless though, what if you had gotten hurt?” 

“So fucking what if I did.” You kept your eyes glued to Present Mic as you responded, trusting him a lot less than the man behind you. His eyes narrowed dangerously at your snarky rebuttal.

“Language young lady, and that’s no way to talk! What would compel you to risk your life, why don’t you trust your hero’s more?” 

You clenched your teeth in frustration but didn’t respond. You were done cooperating, not like you were doing much to begin with though.

The scrapping of a metal chair on concrete drew your gaze as Eraserhead stood up. 

“Back up Zashi, I’ll take over from here. Toshinori you’re fine where you are.” 

You couldn’t help but struggle a bit at his words. “What do you mean, what the hell are you going to do!? You insane or something? Just turn me in to the police!”

“You really don't pay attention do you. Hizashi already said you’re not going to the police. I don’t know what skeletons you have in your closet, or why you started killing people, but that will come out in due time. For now you don’t have to kill anymore. The three of us will take care of you, without the law sentencing you to life. We’ve been hunting you down for so long. We’ve been very patient, but right now you need us to help show you what you’ve been missing. Running around all by yourself, you must have been so lonely.” Eraserhead finished up his little spiel as he stalked forwards, looming over your sitting frame. 

“Don’t fucking TOUC-gah!” You had been so focused on Eraserhead’s approach you hadn’t noticed Present Mic coming at you with a gag until it was too late. 

“Yagi already asked you to watch that dirty mouth of yours, don’t worry though babe once you simmer down a bit we’ll take it out.”

“Ple-please Hizashi call me Toshinori we’ve been over this.”

You gave Eraserhead your best glare as he stopped in front of you. He smiled softly at your defiance before wedging his knee in between your legs and slamming his hands onto the couch, caging you in. Wait by show you what you were missing.. these hero's were going to..?

You tried to talk reason, but all that came out were muffled pleas. None of it coherent. 

“We’ve been watching over you for 5 months now kitten. Trying to find the best way to approach you but in the end taking you somewhere safe seemed to be the only logical solution. While getting this house ready for your arrival we all started to feel as if you belonged here all along. I know it’s not fair, we’ve had so much longer to get to know you, but you’ll know us just as well soon enough.”

It was official. These pros had lost their damn minds. They actually figured out how to justify what they were about to do to you. Your promise to only kill criminals was really coming back to bite you on the ass. 

You brought your legs up and tried to kick him off, but were quickly thwarted by two pairs of hands grabbing them and pinning you down. 

“Now now sweetheart none of that, Shouta here is just going to show you our conviction. No one will ever hurt you again now that we are here. Now that I am here” The last part was mumbled more to himself than the group. 

Something must have happened to these men to cause their hero complex to grow into something so twisted. But that was no fucking excuse for their actions. They needed therapy, not someone to play damsel in distress with.

Shouta lowered himself between your legs until he was kneeling on the floor in front of you. You tried to plead with your eyes, beg him to stop, but he met your gaze with something bordering love. That wasn’t good. Breaking eye contact he looked down at your underwear, bringing a hand up you held your breath as he gently brushed against your core. 

“You can’t even begin to imagine how much I’ve dreamed of this moment. You truly are something special, and yet you treat your life with such little regard it’s maddening.” He trailed his knuckles against the thin fabric as he spoke, your traitorous body sparking heat in your lower abdomen in anticipation. 

Pulling your underwear to the side he slowly began to slide his fingers up and down your progressively wetting folds. 

“Well now, someone secretly enjoyin’ themselves baby,” Hizashi all but purred, his hand squeezing your flesh while his gaze was transfixed on where his partner was violating you. You couldn’t help but let out a pitiful whine. It was absolutely humiliating being spread out before these three men. 

The noises your wet cunt were making were no help to your embarrassment, and they only got worse once the dark haired pro rid you of your last line of defense and began to insert two of his fingers. 

“H-how does she feel?” Toshinori couldn’t help but ask. His face was flushed red, along with the tips of his ears as his vibrant blue eyes watched Shouta’s fingers slowly sink inside you. 

“Tight, shit she’s tight. She’s perfect, so fucking wet for her hero's. I’ll work you open kitten don’t worry.” You couldn’t help but clamp down on his fingers at his words, earning a deep chuckle in response. 

“See now, such a good girl aren’t you. Prison is no place for you kitten, though if you want we can always role-play your wardens.”

Role-play my ass we’re already living it, was all you could think bitterly. 

As if he read your mind Shouta couldn’t help but continue to antagonize you, thumb beginning to make light circles against your clit as he pumped his fingers, adding a third and quickly burying them knuckle deep. Soft whimpers slipped from your mouth as you tried in vain to wiggle away from Eraserhead’s deft fingers. 

Hizashi was getting impatient, removing one of his hands to grasp your breast through the t-shirt you had on. His slim fingers began to pinch and rub your nipple, though his eyes never left your cunt. 

Toshinori was struggling in his own way. Raspy breaths with slight coughs as he grew more and more aroused. He too removed a hand from your leg, but instead made quick work of the zipper on his pants. Taking his semi hard cock in his hand he began gently stroke himself while watching your display. 

You truly were everything they had ever wanted. But you didn’t want this, despite your bodies responses to their ministrations. You could feel it, Shouta seemed to know exactly where to stroke as he worked you up tighter and tighter, velvety walls clamping down at your approaching climax. 

You found each man murmuring their own words of praise, anywhere from “That’s it baby girl, take all of Sho now,” to “Such a perfect princess, do you want to finish?” The man between your legs even adding to the mantra of soft words spoken to you. “So close kitten, see what good girls get. You’re going to cum for me okay?” 

He posed it like a question but you knew it was far from it. It was a statement, a matter of fact statement that you couldn’t deny even if you had tried. Your back arched, moans and mewls intercepted but not completely blocked out by your gag as you rocked against his hand. He gladly continued to finger you, watching as you came down from your high and only then removed his hand. 

You were panting hard, shame quickly washing away the pleasure from your orgasm. Sensing the shift in your demeanor Hizashi was quick to pounce, peppering your face in kisses despite your shifty protests and groans of despair. “None of that now babe, after all we’re just gettin’ this show started!” 

Shouta stood and moved out from between your legs, licking some of your slick off his hand before he wiped the rest on his black pants leg. “You got lube Zashi?” Hizashi paused his attack and shot the dark haired pro a million dollar smile. “You bet our babes cute ass I got it! Lemme find it, hold her Toshi.”

Toshinori floundered a bit, cock in hand as Hizashi shoved you closer to him, before jumping up from the couch. Eyes trailing down to his hand you couldn’t help but freeze in shock. Not only was this man stupid tall, his dick was frighteningly large. The older hero noticed your stare and couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at your expression. “Don’t worry princess, Shouta and Hizashi are going to help you today. My sides acting up so I’ll only be watching.” 

As if on cue the man was hit by a coughing fit, and much to your surprise he even coughed up some blood. Eraserhead was still looming over you, leaning over he gently rubbed the older blonds back as he tried to ease him through the pain. You didn’t dare move as all this transpired around you. What good would it have done you anyways? You were effectively quirkiness, and your fighting skills would be severely lacking against the two heroes you knew. You had no idea who this Toshinori guy was, but if he was close to Eraserhead and Present Mic you doubted he was weak. 

You heard Hizashi rummaging behind you through a dresser you hadn’t noticed earlier. Craning your neck, you peered over and cried out in frustration. 

“Tada!” He sung triumphantly, a small bottle of lube in his hand. “Act two can now officially begin!” You could only yell and wiggle about in protest, your arms still tied behind your back. Toshinori’s hand on your thigh moved to gently pat you on the head. 

“Behave now for them okay? If you’re good we can show you the rest of our home after this.” 

You jerked your head out from under his hand and yelled more incoherent nonsense out of frustration. You had expected anger to replace the adoring look in his eyes but you were only met with fond amusement. 

He stood up with a hearty laugh, erection still in hand as he grabbed Shouta’s discarded chair, sitting down facing the couch. Shouta was quick to take Toshinori’s place on the couch while Hizashi took up residence behind you. 

“I have a feelin’ this star ain’t a fan of the spotlight, no need to be camera shy babe.” You watched Shouta roll his eyes at his partner in crime before he began to manhandle you. Hands under your armpits he pulled you up and wrangled you onto your knees facing him on the couch. 

Hizashi slid one knee between your legs so you couldn't close them. Your tied hands couldn’t help but brush up against his clothed hard on, causing him to rut against you a bit in anticipation. 

Without warning he took a solid grip of your t-shirt and ripped it off. You squeaked in surprise, your face heating up as you realized you were the only person fully naked in the room. 

“Was it really necessary to rip my shirt?”

“Sorry about that Toshi! Didn’t want to delay the show with takin’ off her bindings yah dig? You rip them a bunch anyways so what’s another to the pile? But ain’t this just so much better, our baby girl on full display it makes my heart swoon!”

“Just get her ready Hizashi, and no rushing it, you don’t want to hurt her.”

“Aight aight sorry I’ll get to work, you keep her happy.”

Both men moved closer, pressing your body between them. They had propped themselves up on their knees and had you effectively stuck. Shouta gently placed one hand around your neck, giving your collar a tug, while the other trailed down and began to gently work your still wet pussy. 

You stared into his chest, trying your best to space out but jerked back to reality when you heard the pop of a lid behind you. 

“Don’t worry babe I’ll get you ready, I’m somewhat of a pro yah know?” 

That was when you felt his lubed finger gently prodding your other hole. You jolted forwards into Shouta who didn’t even budge in response to your full body weight. Hizashi simply shuffled closer, continuing to push until finally he breached you. You whimpered at the uncomfortable intrusion. 

Shouta's fingers lazily worked your cunt as he rocked his erection against your lower abdomen. Despite the fact that you hated the feeling of his growing arousal you couldn’t help but lean into him to try and get away from Hizashi as he slipped another finger inside. Tears slowly rolled down your face in frustration as the two heroes prepared your body. 

“There we go kitten, you’re doing so well. Just be patient alright and it won’t hurt so bad.” Shouta removed his hand from around your neck and placed it on your head, angling your gaze to the third member of the group you had almost forgotten while pulling you flush to his clothed chest so you couldn’t freely change your field of view. 

Toshinori was leaned back in the metal folding chair, which looked comically small with him sitting on it. His eyes were clouded with lust as he stroked his thick cock. His own pre-cum and spit adding obscene noises to his ministrations. He gave you a lopsided smile as you made eye contact, causing you to quirky avert your gaze. 

By this point Hizashi had worked three fingers knuckle deep into your tight hole, but coupled with Shouta’s work the line between uncomfortable and pleasurable began to mix together. A breathless moan escaped you as the two pros finally got their desired reaction. 

“She’s as good as she’s gonna get Sho, let’s say you and me start the finale I can’t take feelin’ her tight lil hole clamping down on my fingers any longer. Not when I got somethin’ much better for her.”

Your tears flowed a bit faster at your impending fate. This was fucking insane! You might have been a murderer, but you weren't expected to be a good person unlike these men. These heroes who were now violating you.

Since Shouta was in black sweatpants he merely leaned back a bit and pulled them down, cock springing free. He had a solid girth to him, red tip dripping pre down his shaft to his unruly black pubic hair. You heard a zipper behind you as the blond freed himself, though due to being squashed between the two you had no idea what to prepare for. 

Hizashi hummed in contemplation at your tied hands, currently in the way of his objective. “Bonds might have to go Sho, you get her hands?” The sleepy hero merely nodded grasping your wrists as Hizashi swiftly untied them. 

“Ready now primadonna?”

“Ha ha you’re soo funny Sho... but yes, shit, I’m fucking ready.”

You kept quiet this time, head pressed against Shouta’s chest as you listened to his rapidly beating heart. You gave one last pleading look to the lean blond watching intently from the sideline, but all he did was shrug his shoulders with a small smile on his face. 

“You’re going to do great princess don’t worry.” 

You felt the tips of each man at their respective entrance, Shouta's teasing your soaking cunt while Hizashi lightly probed your lubed ass. You closed your eyes and accepted defeat. They gently began to rut their hips, cocks sinking deeper with each thrust. You felt uncomfortably full as they breached you. 

“Oh fuck oh fuck I can feel you through her.” The blond quickly grabbed your breasts, tweaking your nipples like he had earlier. 

“Easy does it kitten, we got you,” Shouta groaned out. 

You weren’t a fan of Hizashi behind you, rocking forward into Shouta as they continued to fuck into you. He squeezed down on your wrists in warning, hot breath fanning the top of your head. It didn’t take much longer before they both had finally bottomed out. You groaned in distress while they groaned in bliss. 

“I’ve got her wrists you help her out alright, and take it easy.”

“Sheesh I heard yah the first time, I’ll help our lil girl out.”

Hizashi snaked a hand in between you and Shouta, finding your clit. 

They both continued fucking into you, Hizashi matching Shouta’s pace as they stimulated your body. You were angry, humiliated, and yet somehow you were so turned on it was embarrassing. You should be thrashing about, snarling into your gag, but instead all you could do was rock your body to their salacious tempo. 

Peeking your eyes open at a particularly hard thrust from Hizashi you saw Toshinori on the edge of the chair. You could just barely make out his raspy breaths and small moans over Shouta and Hizashi’s groaning. His brilliant blue eyes bore into your own. One of his hands worked his long shaft while the other was death gripping his clothed thigh. It almost looked as if steam was pouring off of him. Was he always that muscular?

You didn’t have long to contemplate Toshinori though, with a pinch to your clit Hizashi made sure to regain your attention. He had picked up his pace, throwing Shouta a bit off balance. He leaned down sucking and biting at your neck while rolling your perky nipple. Shouta felt your velvety walls clamp down around his cock, picking up his tempo to match Hizashi’s.

By now you were a mess. Traitorous moans fumbling from your mouth as the two heroes played your body. They had picked up an alternating tempo, never leaving you without a cock inside your body. The pleasure had you throwing your head back, leaving your neck exposed and making room for Shouta to join Hizashi in leaving little claiming bites all along your delicate skin. 

“She’s getting close Hizashi, we’re gonna fuck her through it alright?”

The blond pro behind you only moaned out something that sounded vaguely affirmative, eager to feel your tight walls clamp down on him. 

You were beyond fighting them, on the brink of orgasm all it took was one pointed thrust from Shouta to have you crumbling apart. You pushed back into Hizashi’s chest, his t-shirt sticking to your sweat soaked skin as you clamped down on both of them. Hizashi moaned into your neck, his quirk picking up a bit as he lost his composure. Shouta had released your hands, ripping off your gag so he could grab your face and crash his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as your newly freed hands grabbed fist fulls of his shirt to stabilize yourself. 

As stated they continued fucking into you, dragging out your orgasm as your walls spasmed around them. Shouta’s tongue delved into your mouth, his own deep moans rumbling into you. 

“Go-gonna fuckin’ cum Sho, n- not much longer.”

In response Eraserhead reached behind you, grabbing a fist full of the blonds hair and giving it a firm tug which was enough to push him over the edge. 

“Sh-shit,” he wheezed, hips stilling as his cum filled your sore ass. “You fu- you fucking dirty cheater makin’ me finish first like that.” In kind Hizashi grabbed some of Shouta’s hair, pulling his mouth away from yours and up to his own. 

“Go ahead and cum in her Sho you know you want to,” Hizashi taunted between kisses. The familiar sound of metal against concrete drew your gaze as the all too familiar symbol of peace stood at his full height. Holy fucking shit it was All Might. 

The two pros ignored his approach, Shouta’s hips becoming a bit more deranged as he fucked into you. All Might reached in between the two and gripped your lower jaw, dazzling smile almost blinding you.

“Be a good girl now and open for me, you don’t have to swallow it all but I’d appreciate the effort.” He didn’t leave you with much of a choice finding it impossible to close your mouth with his grip, which at this point was very sore from the gag. The tip of his large member gently brushed against your lips as he shuttered at the feeling of your soft flesh. 

By this point Shouta was thrusting aggressively against your battered cervix, mouth locked with Hizahi’s as he finally reached his own release. His hips stuttered as warmth filled your cunt. 

Now all that was left was All Might. Your jaw strained to accommodate him, but he seemed to be more than aware of your limitations. He simply pushed the tip in, one hand stroking his shaft while the other gently pet your head. 

“So pretty,” he cooed down at you. “Just like that princess, I’m gonna cum now okay?” 

You simply kept your mouth open, tongue flat against the underside of his still cock as his cum filled your mouth. The bitter taste made you sputter, cum running down your chin as more took its place. After a couple more spurts he gently pulled away, some of the bitter substance sliding down your throat while the majority ended up down your chin and onto the couch below. 

All four of you were panting, frozen in time until finally All Might disappeared in a large cloud of smoke. The man you had originally believed to be some unknown hero named Toshinori now stood in his place, shyly looking down at you. 

“I guess that’s one way to show her huh big guy.” Hizashi jested. 

“I-I know probably not the most ideal but I couldn’t help myself,” he murmured a bit embarrassed. 

Hizashi and Shouta pulled out, their cum immediately running down your legs causing you to cringe a bit at the sensation. 

“You guys.. fucking suck.” was all you could think of at the moment. You waited for the rage, for them to berate or attack you, but instead all that met you was a chorus of soft chuckles.

“Figured you wouldn’t be easy to convince kitten, but don’t worry. Between the three of us you’ll come around.” 

These three men must have some thick fucking skulls to dismiss you so casually, that or their obsession was a lot deeper than you could even begin to comprehend. 

“Some fucking heroes you are,” you grumbled lowly.

“Some fuckin’ heroes we are indeed cutie! HAH get it? Cause we just fucked yah?” Hizashi laughed at his own joke while Toshinori and Shouta groaned. 

“Alright don’t make me gag you next, let’s just get everybody upstairs and clean up. We’ll do the house tour later kitten, for now we’ll just show you to your room.” 

[celtics534]

In Your Warmth I Forget How Cold it Can Be Chapter 12

God Knows What is Real and What's Fake

I’m very excited to share this chapter! I hope you all are ready for some action!

The next (and final) chapter won’t be posted next Saturday like normal. Time is not on my side to get it done in time. But I promise to post it as soon as possible :)

Read on: FF.net or AO3

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Harry's fingers tapped a manic rhythm against the steering wheel. He hated this feeling. It felt like he'd abandoned her. He knew that was his protective nature, but there was a sinking feeling in his gut with every kilometer he drove away from Ginny's parents. Harry couldn't explain it. It was a bad feeling, all based on a wave.

 That wave. 

 His mind kept playing it on repeat. Her body had been so stiff that Harry could see the tension across the yard. The lack of enthusiasm had also sent him on edge. It had been like... like she was nervous. 

 He couldn't figure it out. She had been so excited, practically skipping to the front door. Then that door had opened, and everything had changed. What would cause her attitude to shift so drastically?

 Stopping at a sign, Harry looked both ways before crossing the intersection. The dark winding roads were hard to navigate at night. He kept his speed slow for any sudden bend in the path. It made the supposed five-minute trip, to the guest house he'd booked, a nearly eight minute trip. That fact brought Harry some comfort. Ginny was only eight minutes away.   

 A lot could happen in eight minutes. 

 Harry groaned as he parked in the small car park. He needed to stop. He would never make it through the night if he kept thinking like this. Everything was fine. Riddle was locked away. Kingsley's team had Riddle's men on the run. No one would be looking at him or Ginny. 

 He forced himself to take three deep breaths, releasing them slowly. His heart raced in an unsteady rhythm, slowing to a manageable tempo. It was all in his imagination. All these dark thoughts and images were something his mind created because it was twisted from all the shit he'd seen. Ginny was safe at her parent's house. She was gonna spend her night hugging her mum and comforting her dad.  

 It was painful, but eventually, Harry managed to get himself to leave the car. He collected his overnight bag from the backseat and went into the reception. A pleasant older gentleman greeted him with a toothy grin. 

 "Welcome! You must be, Mr. Potter." His words had a slight lisp to them, but Harry found it oddly charming. 

"Yes, sir." 

 The innkeeper waved his hand. "No need for the sir. Call me, Tom. We've not that formal around here."

 Harry's had to hold back his grimace at the name. Riddle had forever tainted it for him. Instead, Harry forced a return grin on his face. "Thanks, Tom."

 Tom's smile grew. "Alrighty! So here is your key." He held out and old fashion skeleton key. "You'll be up on the third floor, second door on the right." 

 Harry eyed the slightly rusted key for a second before taking it. He'd never used a key like it, only seen it in films. It made him think of a medieval castle or rickety garden gate. Tom cheerfully chatted about the best local pub (which he owned) and other hot spots. Harry barely listened as they made their way up to his room. 

 "Will you be wanting anything to eat tonight?" Tom asked once they reached the third floor.

 It took Harry a long moment to focus on his guide. "Um... no, I'm all set. I'm just going to go straight to bed."

 Tom nodded, giving another of his broad grins. He waved a hand down the hall towards Harry's room. "Well, if you need anything, please call down to the counter or come down. My wife and I are happy to help."

 Harry thanked the man before heading to his door. It took a second for the old key to ease into the lock. Fortunately, the room was more modern than the security (though not by much). Harry dropped his bag on the corner of the double bed. He collapsed perpendicular onto the mattress, hearing the groans and squeaks of the old box spring. 

 His eyes shut on their own accord as he allowed himself to take a moment. Then his fingers reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. The bright screen lit up, showing the time. 

 Thirty minutes. It had been thirty minutes since he'd left Ginny standing there on the step of her parents’ house. Thirty minutes since she'd walked through the kitchen door. 

 That wave. Fuck, that wave still nagged at him. It had felt so... forced and painful. She should have been happy and excited. Loose with the joy of seeing her parents. But instead, she'd been stiff as a board. 

 Harry started drumming his hand against the bedspread at that rapid pace from before. Fuck... Fuck, he needed to hear her voice. He told her to call in an hour, but there was no way he would make it another thirty minutes. Tapping rapidly at the screen, Harry pulled up Ginny's contact. 

 He watched the screen as the speaker echoed around the room. One ring. Two rings. Three. Four. Five. It kept going for eleven rings before his call was sent to voicemail. The tinny automatic voice that answered made Harry's heart hammer. He ended the call and instantly redialed. Again he was met with the annoying automation. 

 His body jerked up as he stared at the phone. His fingers closed so tightly around the device Harry could feel it start to bend. It took a conscious effort for him to loosen his grip. She would have answered his first call. She knew how nervous he was about sending her alone, so she would have paused whatever conversation she'd had to tell him she was alright. Ignoring the second call.... 

 Harry was running out of the old house and was peeling down the road before Tom could even figure out the loud commotion coming from the staircase. 

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 Just thirty-two minutes ago, Harry had taken the English backroads at a cautious, slow pace; now, he was taking them like a Formula one driver. He took a sharp right way too wide. If another car had been on the road he'd hit them head on, but Harry couldn't slow down. 

 That wave. 

 That wave was the last image he had of Ginny and he'd ignored his instincts. He'd driven away and all the while she might have been going into... Goosebumps rose across his body as he went around an S curve. 

If something had happened to Ginny... if one of Riddle's men had come after her... Harry didn't know what he'd do. He'd never be able to forgive himself. 

 Harry pressed his foot to the gas pedal as he hit a long stretch of straight road. The car accelerated quickly and dangerously. He was two minutes from the dirt road that led to the Burrow. Three minutes from the little parking area beside the garden. It had been thirty-five minutes since Ginny had waved at him. Thirty-five minutes where some fucking bastard could have... 

 "Fuck!" Harry yelled into the silence of the car. His rage and anxiety came bubbling to the surface. He was losing his mind! He needed to see Ginny with his own eyes before he could calm down.

 He took the turn onto the dirt road, not slowing. The violent bumps jerked his car, but Harry didn't succumb to them. His speed didn't drop below eighty. 

 When the Burrow finally came into view, Harry could see the kitchen light still glowing warmly. There were also lights up across the house. He skidded to a stop, nearly hitting the old farm fencing that kept cars from driving on the grass. 

 He turned off the car, enveloping the garden back into darkness. Harry grabbed the gun, holster, and ammo he'd placed into the glove compartment with quick, efficient movements. In less than thirty seconds Harry was out of the car, shoulder holster on, and approaching the house. He moved to the kitchen window first, peering inside. 

 Nothing. 

 No one.

 The room was empty. Harry stared for a moment longer. Why would the light be on if no one was there? He was about to back away when something caught his eye. His heart climbed into his throat when he realized what it was. 

 A leg.

 It was half hidden behind the table and chairs, but Harry could clearly tell it was a leg. If he'd have to guess a man based on the trouser pants and the large foot. 

 Harry moved quickly to the side door he'd seen Ginny disappear into. He pulled out his phone, quickly calling nine-nine-nine. The moment the operator came on, Harry started to explain. He kept his voice low as he covered all his bases: his title, the location, possible crime, three potential victims, and possible injuries. 

 "I will be entering the premises armed. Please inform responders of my presence. I will stay on the line, but I'll be putting you on mute."   

 "Detective Potter, we have a response team fifteen minutes out. Please wait outside of the —" Harry turned the volume off the call with one button. He slid the phone back into his pocket. The call had taken valuable time, but Harry wanted back up on the way in case things were worse than he imagined. Taking one more second, Harry pulled his gun out of the holster, checking to make sure the chamber was loaded before slowly opening the door. 

 From his window perch, Harry's view had been limited, but he could see the entire room from here. He could see the chaos that had reigned. Broken china littered all over. There were scattered pieces of a chair strewn across the floor that went into what Harry assumed was the sitting room. But it was the prone figure that got Harry's attention. 

 The older man lay in a small puddle of blood. If Harry had to place a guess, he'd say it was Ginny's father. Harry could see the large gash that stood out prominently across the man's pale forehead. The wound didn't look too deep, but as Harry moved in closer, he could see a red stain spreading over the white night shirt. 

 Harry moved fast, falling to his knees and checking for a pulse. After a long, terrifying moment, Harry found one. It was thready, but there. Harry found the source of the blood on the man's shirt. A long knife wound ran down his side. Based on Harry’s experience, the man had been sliced and then bopped on the head, knocking him out cold.   

 He looked around before finding a clean dish towel and pressing it over the cut. The man let out a weak groan, and Harry let out a sigh of relief. Harry was about to look around for something to hold the makeshift bandage when a scream came from upstairs.

 A woman's scream. 

 Harry swore under his breath. He needed to stop this bleeding, but someone was in trouble upstairs. Without any options, Harry took the man's arm and pressed it against the cloth. Praying Ginny's father wouldn't move before help arrived, Harry jumped to his feet and rushed to the stairs.     

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 The old floors of the Burrow amplified every step Harry took, no matter how lightly he walked. The creaking and groaning made Harry wince. He was certain whoever had attacked the Weasleys would know exactly where he was.. that they were planning on jumping out and killing him on the spot. But Harry couldn't stop. He needed to get to whoever screamed. Ginny was somewhere in this house. 

 At the third landing, Harry cleared a small bedroom to the right and a bathroom to the left. Both empty and showing no signs of being recently occupied. The house had six stories; Harry knew that because Ginny had told him all about how her parents had continued to add floors as they added kids. She'd told Harry the house somehow magically remained standing, giving off Leaning Tower of Pisa vibes. 

 He started down the thin corridor where a single door stood ajar. Blood pounded in his ears with every step, making it hard for him to listen. But the closer he got to the door, the louder it got. The whimpering. Someone was in that room and they were not okay. 

 With his heart slamming hard in his ribs, Harry eased himself against the door before pushing it open with his shoulder. He swept left then right, holding his gun steady. No one hid in the corners. No one lay in wait along the wall. But there was someone in the room. 

 Harry met brown eyes just like Ginny's and knew this had to be her mother. She was bound to a chair, her mouth gagged with duct tape. Harry had to bite back his anger as he noticed how her clothing had been ripped and tinged with blood. 

 "Molly?" He kept his voice quiet and calm, approaching slowly. Her body had begun to tremble as she stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. Harry slid his gun into the holster before raising his hands. "Molly, my name is Harry Potter. Detective Harry Potter."

 Surprise, confusion, and relief filtered across her face in quick succession before her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Harry couldn't blame her. He would be warry of a stranger after whatever had happened here. 

 "I've been... with Ginny for a month," Harry told her, hoping to bring some credit to his name. "I ran into her in the street, and I've kept her with me. To protect her from —" From this exact situation. Guilt turned in his gut, but he forced himself to stay on task. "If I tell you something personal about Ginny, will that help you feel more comfortable about me?"

 Molly's deep brown eyes stared at him long and hard, clearly trying to tell if he was being honest. Finally, after a long moment, she nodded. Harry released a long breath. "Alright... alright. Ginny told me about how the first time she brought a boy home, the twins put itching powder all over the bloke."

 It took a moment for Molly to remember Ginny's ex and what had happened to him. Harry could see the exact second when the memory came back to her. Her eyes started filling with tears. 

 Harry took that as his invitation to move in and untie her. He pulled out his pocket knife, sawing into the rope. It took longer than Harry wanted, but eventually, he got Molly free from her binds.

 He folded the knife, sliding it back into his pocket. "Molly, I'm going to take off the duct tape. It's going to hurt, but please don't scream. I'm gonna do it quick. One pull." 

 She nodded, her eyes still bright with unshed tears, but he could feel the determination flow off her. Without hesitating, Harry peeled a corner of the tape off her skin and then pulled it quickly.  

 Molly winced but bit her tongue as the tape fell to the floor. Harry helped her to her feet, ensuring no significant injuries. Based on his primary check, she was worse for wear but nothing life threatening.

 A million questions went through Harry's head. Who had done this? How many were there? How did they get into the house? But only one took priority. "Where is Ginny?"

 "I — He —" Molly sucked in a deep breath, clearly struggling to contain her fear. "He took her upstairs... up to my room, I think."

 "That's on the next floor?"

 She nodded. "It's the door on the left."

 Harry straightened his spine. "Is it just the one man?"

 Again Molly nodded. "I have no idea who he is but... but he tied Arthur and me to chairs. Snuck up on us while we were sleeping." Her voice started to tremble in time with her shoulders. "He hit Arthur on the head so hard."

 "Your husband is downstairs. He has a knife wound in the side and a head injury. You head down there and keep pressure on the wounds. I've already called for backup. They should be here any minute."

 Molly swallowed so loudly he could hear it. "And you'll go get Ginny? You'll save my baby?"

 Harry pulled his gun back out of the holster. "Nothing will stop me."

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 With slowly, steady steps, Harry approached the master bedroom. The door was shut, but he could see the light beam coming from the bottom. There was another flight of stairs to his right, but Harry focused solely on the door. He placed his head against it, trying to hear anything over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. 

 Nothing. 

 No voices. No footsteps. No breathing. 

 Nothing.

 Swallowing the fear of what he would see, Harry grabbed the handle. The door swung open with ease. The bedroom wasn't overly large, only containing enough space for a dresser, a queen size bed, and a single chair. A single chair that had ropes lying around it. 

 Harry's heart pounded violently against his ribs. She'd been here... she'd been tied in here, but now... but now she could be anywhere. 

 "Fuck!" The curse slipped from his mouth as he swung a vicious kick at the chair. He'd missed her. Ginny had been here, and Harry had failed to save her. Now he had no idea where she was. Her kidnapper could have snuck her from the house while Harry had tended to Molly. 

 "Fuck." This time, the word came out like a sob. Tears started clouding his vision. He'd failed her. She was now at the mercy of some unknown psychopath. A psychopath with a vendetta. 

 Blinking rapidly, he forced his vision to clear. He lifted his head from the cut ropes, staring dolefully through the window. That's when he saw it. A figure dragging a wiggling body. 

 He rushed to the glass, trying to get a better image. The kitchen light bathed the garden enough to show him atall man with —

 Harry was out the bedroom door before anything other than her name echoed in his head. 

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 Too long. It took too long for him to make it down the four flights of stairs and out the kitchen door. He sped past Molly, who knelt by her husband's side. There wasn't time to answer her question of where he was going. Harry had to get to Ginny before she was dragged into the woods. Before, she was lost to him. 

 He left the door open as he sprinted across the lawn. They were almost to the large cluster of trees. From his distance, Harry knew reaching them would be a struggle. They were a good fifty meters away. He was fast but not fast enough to get to Ginny before she was carried into the dark forest or her kidnapper injured her.  

 Ginny was still fighting the man. Her body jerked wildly, her feet digging at the dirt in an attempt to slow their progress. Her kidnapper had her in a choke hold, his back to the trees as he hauled her.

 "Ginny!" Harry yelled her name, hoping to let her know he was there. That he would get to her. Harry refused to think any other way. She was in his sights, and he would be damned if he didn't save her.  

 At his voice, Ginny's head jerked in his direction. He knew she couldn't see him, not his face at least. At best, she could see his shadow as he sprinted in the kitchen light. But he swore her eyes had somehow found his. His call didn't just get Ginny's attention. Her kidnapper paused to find the source. 

 It was then that Harry's heart stopped. Ginny's body went limp and fell to the ground. Her neck! Her kidnapper must have snapped her neck. Harry's knees wanted to buckle, slowing his pace. Ginny's attacker swore loudly as he went to grab her, but Ginny was faster. She rolled away from him, gaining speed as momentum started. Her course took her towards a garden bed. 

 Harry's heart only started beating once she was four yards away from her attacker. His feet, which had felt like lead, suddenly felt lighter, letting his pace pick up. Harry was only twenty meters away when Ginny's attacker reached her. His hands gripped her shirt, hauling her to her feet. 

 "Fuck you!" Ginny's angry screams carried across the dark night. Harry watched in shock as Ginny's attacker dropped her. She fell harshly to the grass, scrambling up to her feet. Her hands were wrapped around something that she started wielding like a bat. 

 A shovel, Harry realized. She'd found a shorter shovel and had used it to hit her attacker. Pride rose in his chest as he watched his woman prepare to take out anyone who came near her. 

 Riddle. Harry recognized his cruel snarl as he got within five meters of Ginny. Riddle had somehow found the Burrow and attacked Ginny's family.

 The way Riddle stared at Ginny, the venom and hatred would have made a lesser person quake in their boots. But not Ginny. She straightened her spine and tightened her grip on her makeshift weapon. 

 Harry skidded to a stop a few steps back from Ginny. He pointed his gun at Riddle. "Don't move! I won't hesitate!"

 Riddle turned his hostility on Harry. His fingers twitched as he glowered at Harry. "You can't shoot an unarmed man."

 Harry lifted his weapon slightly higher, the barrel pointing straight at Riddle's chest. "Try me." 

 Ginny started backing to stand beside Harry, her weapon still ready and eyes still locked on Riddle. The moment her shoulder bumped his, the weight on Harry's chest lessened. They stood five meters from Riddle, armed and ready. 

 It was in Riddle's eyes. Harry could see the fear and resentment in the cold depths. He could also see the desperation. Riddle's intentions were clear a second before the man had his back to Harry and was running. 

 "Ginny, wait here!" Harry said as he started after Riddle. This time Harry wouldn't let him get away. Riddle would not escape. He would not get the chance to come back and harm Ginny. 

 Adrenaline made Harry's feet move faster than before. He was gaining on Riddle. Four meters. Three. When Riddle looked over his shoulder, he was guaranteed to see Harry's determined expression even in just the moonlight. 

 Riddle sprinted into the woods, ducking in and out between trees. Harry kept hot on his trail, still gaining distance. Two meters. With a burst of speed, Harry jumped, tackling Riddle's back. Riddle landed hard in the dirt, the wind getting knocked out of him as Harry fell on top of him. Harry kept his weight pressed on Riddle as he rose into a better position. 

 "Tom Riddle, you are under arrest." The satisfied smile that curled Harry's lips made his cheeks hurt. Riddle started struggling under him, but Harry pressed his knee hard into the small of his back. "Just fucking try it."

 "Harry!" Ginny's voice came from somewhere to his left. "Harry!"

 "Here!" 

 Ginny sprinted over to them. It was hard to see her in the moon's minimal light, but Harry would recognize her hair anywhere. "I have rope from the shed."

 Harry could see the bright yellow cord in her hands. "Hand me some. I'll tie his arms. You can get his legs." They worked in quickly, locking Riddle's hands and ankles together. Riddle's curses and obscenities echoed off the trees as they tightened the cord. Once he was certain Riddle wouldn't escape, Harry rose to his feet. 

 "Well." Ginny's voice trembled. "This wasn't the homecoming I was expecting."

 Harry tore his eyes from Riddle, who continued calling them every name in the book, to look at his girlfriend. She stood statue still as she watched Riddle's wiggling form. 

 "Ginny." Her name came out like a dying man asking for water. He lost sight of her as his eyes blurred with tears. There was no stopping them. He could feel the wetness slide down his cheeks as he turned to wrap her in his arms. His nose went into her hair, inhaling the scent he feared he never would again. "Ginny."

 Her arms came around his back, holding him just as tightly as he held her. She didn't speak. Instead just held him as he held her. They didn't need words. They needed this. 

 "Just you wait!" Riddle yelled. "I'll be back! You think you've won, but you haven't! I've got —" 

 Harry cut off his rambling with a sharp kick to the side. "Shut up." He slowly released Ginny from his arms, but kept one hand on her waist. Harry needed physical reassurance just for another moment. "We should take him back to the house. The police should be here by now."

 Riddle grunted and tried to shift from where he was tied on the ground. 

 "Move another inch and I'll aim that shovel at your balls," Ginny declared, giving Riddle a sharp look.

 "I'd listen to her," Harry warned. "My woman's not afraid to fight back."

 Riddle stopped squirming to glare at them with hatred. Harry's hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as if he still couldn't believe she was there, that she was whole and safe and his arms. When she rose up on her toes to press a hard lingering kiss to his lips, he relaxed.

 "I love you." When she fell back on her heels, her voice took on a tone of determination. "Let's go. I want to see him be the one in shackles this time." 

 Harry took her hand in his. Her warmth spread from his fingers across his body. With Ginny by his side, Harry forgot about everything they'd just been through. All that mattered was her. Them. She was his warmth and he never wanted to be in the cold without her again. 

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers Getting Possessive at the Club

… I can explain. Or, well, no I can't. But this exists now anyway so enjoy?

Warnings: Possessive Behavior, Yandere-ish, Violence

Intro: The MC and their favorite demon were just trying to have a fun night out at The Fall. The lights were going, the music was blaring, and the two of them were by the bar but there was a problem. Their demon noticed a sketchy creep who'd been eyeing their human all night long… and that simply won't do. So when their human left to use the bathroom…

It was time to take care of the problem.

Lucifer

Though Lucifer was usually less than into the club scene, the MC wanted a change of pace from their usual dates and he did so want to make them happy… At first, he thought he'd just be dealing with the loud noise and crowded atmosphere but then he noticed something else…

A demon had been following them through most of the night, always keeping his distance but staring at the MC far too much for his liking…

This put Lucifer in a bit of an odd position. He didn't exactly want to leave the club because the MC didn't look tired yet, but he also didn't like seeing that cretin following them around…

Yet, of course, it also rubbed his pride the wrong way to go tell him to stop directly. Lucifer would never admit to feeling bothered by some pitiful lesser demon… Never.

But by the time the MC left him to use the restroom, he was at his wit's end. He could see the man had taken a seat at the other end of the bar just to watch them and he was growing irritated… So he had to devise a new strategy.

It's unusual for demons to walk around in their true forms. It's not that it's frowned upon or anything, it's just that it's normally something reserved for big events… or for displays of dominance and control.

So when Lucifer slipped into his demon form in the middle of The Fall, it turned quite a few heads. Truthfully, there was only one head in particular that he wanted his way, and once he got it, he stared the guy down…

It was a taste of the lowlife's own medicine, but so much worse coming from him… The feel of Lucifer's bloody-onyx eyes and chillingly cold smile from across the bar could have made even the strongest men run for the hills…

Needless to say, the demon didn't last very long under the eldest brother's gaze. In fact, he wilted almost immediately before slinking away as quickly as he could… 

A guy not even able to stomach the firstborn's stare? Truly a pathetic coward if Lucifer ever saw one.

He was totally back to normal by the time the MC returned and went back to dancing with them like nothing ever happened… Though his human couldn't help but notice the crowd kept their distance from them for the rest of the night... 

Eh, Hell is just weird sometimes isn't it?

Mammon

Look, Mammon had been trying to have some fun the whole night and for the most part he'd been succeeding except for one thing…

He could sense that asshole still hadn't left them alone. He'd just hover near him and his MC like a hellhound stalking prey… It was annoying. It was creepy…

And it was reeeaaallly getting on his nerves.

When the MC left for the restroom, he was leaning back against the bar scanning the room for their abhorrent admirer while using the tint of his sunglasses to hide his eyes.

It didn't take him long to see the gross fuck sitting alone at a table. Who knew what he was planning... following them home? Taking candid shots of MC? Either way, he wanted to sock him in the jaw…

But, of course, Mammon knew he had to play it just a little smoother than that to stay in the club.

Mammon sauntered over to the man's table and invited himself to sit, kicking his feet up to look casual but knocking his boots against the surface so roughly it made the guy jump... Pathetic.

"Oi, so I've seen ya lookin at my human… Real work of art, eh?" He flashed the guy a fanged grin and watched him sweat for a second before cutting off any answer.

"-'course they are. Don't need to tell me. But I gotta say, you're really ticking me off, bud… We're just tryin to enjoy ourselves but I keep seeing your ugly mug wherever we're at."

He pulled his legs back from the table and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a deck of playing cards.

"Tell ya what, I'm feelin oddly generous so let's play a game. You and me. If ya win, I'll let ya have a night with'em…" He fought the urge to punch the guy when he saw his eyes light up, "but if I win…"

Mammon put the deck on the table then leaned in real close, "I'll flay your skin off and gild ya skeleton in the 4th circle myself… Gold skulls are selling like hotcakes right now." He put every bit of malice he could into the threat, even barring his increasingly sharpening fangs.

The guy must of had a good head on him because he paled immediately before getting up and running from the table. If there's one thing everybody knows about Mammon, it's never play cards with him if he can make even a single Grimm… Chances are, you're gonna lose.

When the MC came back, Mammon flagged them down to their new table and pulled them onto his lap for a little chat before getting more drinks. They're his human. His.

Leviathan

Of course Levi noticed this creep the second that they walked in. He's Envy. He had been hyper-vigilant of all the attention the MC had been receiving since their first step inside. But this guy was… persistent.

He'd been tailing them all night, always finding spots with good vantage points, which of course was sketch as hell but...

Honestly? Levi just didn't like him looking at them. Not at all. In fact, he'd hazard to say he truly hated this complete stranger for how much real estate his eyes were taking up of his precious MC… What gave him the right??

By the time the MC had to use the restroom, he was sitting at the bar seriously contemplating whether or not to just carry them home… He didn't like night clubs anyway, but they seemed to be having fun and they always looked so cute while dancing…

No. He couldn't just take them home. But once they left, he had a much better idea.

It was easy for Levi to slip away from the bar. The asshole was leaned back against a nearby wall and pretty much pulled his phone out the second the MC was out of sight. From there, Levi only had to do what he did best, blend into the background, until he was right next to the guy...

He didn't say anything. He didn't give him any warning or threat. No, no he was far too ticked to be that charitable…

The only indication the man got of how royally he fucked up was the searing pain of Levi's fangs digging into his shoulder, the thirdborn's gloved hand muffling his screams until the venom took hold of his prey.

The last thing that man ever saw, propped up and paralyzed against the wall, was the MC coming back to their docile otaku, who now pulled them into his arms… still shooting the occasional smirk in his victim's direction.

And the last thing he ever heard was the same word his killer whispered to him after his throat became too tight to scream… "Mine."

Satan

This always seemed to happen whenever he took the MC places… They could be walking together in the park and he'd still see lesser demon eyes following them around...

Frankly, it did piss him off to a degree. He knew they never asked to be stared at like a piece of meat, but if he'd go on a rampage every time it happened then they'd never have a quiet date again. So he learned to put up with it… to an extent.

The demon that had been following them that night was really testing his notoriously short patience...

He had tried several tactics to shake the guy as they were dancing but he'd always come right back. He even got more handsy than normal to show, "Hey, this one is mine!" but that had gotten him equally dismal results… It was bordering the line of disrespect now.

He did his best to keep up a friendly face while the MC was with him, but they must have noticed he'd gotten tense. They told him to try and relax a bit before they left for the bathroom…

Oh, he was going to relax alright.

The second they were out of sight, Satan's smile broke into a glare he leveled right at the offending scumbag's table. Of course, seeing the MC had left put the guy's attention elsewhere, but that was his funeral.

Satan knew his time was limited, so he skipped the pleasantries and marched right over to him, slamming his foot down onto the edge of the table with such force it threatened to tip it over then grabbed him by the neck.

"Back. OFF."

It really didn't take much, his reputation preceded him. He felt the guy's pulse skyrocket between his fingers before he let him go.

It was hard not to get a little satisfaction when watching the worthless creep scramble away from him like his life depended on it (as it very much did). He almost considered giving chase just to amp up the fun, but the MC returned sooner than he expected…

A pair of arms around his waist and lips against his cheek were enough to evaporate his anger right then… but it didn't settle his sudden need to mark them in the slightest.

Ultimately, the real question was whether he could wait until they got home to show the world that they were his or if they needed to find somewhere… quieter. No promises, MC.

Asmodeus 

Asmo had dealt with his fair share of admirers, the stalking kind included. Fortunately, dealing with them had always been relatively easy for him (he is a ruler of Hell after all) but one targeting his beloved human…? That was far less acceptable in his eyes.

He caught sight of the beady eyes of the creep while he was dancing with the MC. At first, he thought the guy was looking at him (who wouldn't?) but then he followed his eyeline right to his lovely human companion…

Though he couldn't exactly blame him for staring, he and MC made a fantastic looking pair, he definitely couldn't sit idly by either. People like this are usually bad news and he refused to let any harm come to his MC…!

He was as tactful as ever, though. He liked The Fall and would rather not be banned from returning… He waited patiently for the MC to go to the bathroom before making his way over to the creep, his perfect smile still sitting on his face.

"Excuse me, cutie." He waited for the stalker's eyes to leave his phone and settle on Asmo's own. "Ah, there you are! Good. I had a question for you, I think… oh no, I must have forgotten it! Silly me."

Though he could see the demon was growing annoyed, Asmo stalled for just a few moments longer… just long enough for his bewitching charm to set into his victim's mind.

"Ah! Now I remember. Do you like dogs?" He smiled in satisfaction to see the creeper's head nod slowly. "Oh good! Because I know a very hungry dog right now… Cerberus is his name and I don't think he's had a meal today. Would you be a doll and go feed him for me? He lives in the cave behind the House of Lamentation. You can't miss him."

The demon's head nodded slowly yet again as he rose from his chair and walked out of the club quietly. Quick, painless, and with no messy cleanup!

Well… none that Cerberus wouldn't clean up for him anyway. Asmo returned to the bar with a newly giddy grin on his face... His MC wouldn't be seeing that man ever again~!

Beelzebub 

Beel is very patient. Beel is very kind. Beel is very forgiving. Beel is… really not about this right now...

Unlike his brothers, Beel's easygoing nature made him less quick to pick up on the lingering glances that the MC gets from others. Even when he does notice, he can usually let it slide if looking is all they do (he's the only one who can touch after all).

But even he couldn't miss how wolfishly that demon was staring at them… It made him uncomfortable and the guy just refused to leave them alone…

By the time the MC left Beel at the bar to use the restroom, he was on a level of irritated usually only reserved for when someone denied him food… It was like that jerk had taken a cheese grater to his patience and it was wearing thin…

As much as he knew he could deck him, he didn't want to get them kicked out… The MC was having such a good time, despite the creep's ogling, so he used a different approach…

Being so high up in Hell had its perks and one was that anywhere in town that offered food also had a secret menu… A Beelzebub Only menu (as a precaution so that he wouldn't wreck the place whenever he stopped by). Anything on his menu always had huge portions and The Fall was no exception.

The bartender didn't seem too surprised when he ordered a Drakon Leg, but he was very surprised when he asked to get the full bone too… Not with the meat on it. Just the bone.

Fun Fact: the bones of Drakons are supremely thick and strong enough to be used as clubs.

Even More Fun Fact: it takes an incredible amount of force to snap these bones…

...which Beel did without breaking a sweat… and maintaining eye contact with the creep The. Entire. Time. The sound of the bone snapping in two was almost as deafening as a gunshot and he didn't even flinch.

The demon went running out of the club with his tail between his legs and quickly got swapped out for the MC running back, worried about what made such a loud noise…

Of course, by that time Beel had the bone thrown away and was chowing down on the meat like nothing ever happened so they dropped the subject soon enough...

He may not be as open about when he claims someone as the rest of his family but that's because when push comes to shove, who in their right mind would want to challenge Beel anyway...?

Belphegor 

Nope. Nope. Nope nope nope, he's not having this. Not one bit.

Belphie lacks a lot of the good-natured patience of his twin... Chances are if there's something happening and he's not stopping it, it's just because putting up with it is the path of least resistance…

But there are always exceptions and those are usually reserved for the MC.

Strangers trying to get close or even imagining themselves being with MC really makes his blood boil… He knew them the most. He loved them the most. On just what grounds did some random moron think he could take his place?? Wishful thinking? Keep dreaming, buddy.

So, of course, he wasn't happy when he noticed some asshole staring at the MC like Beel does when he sees a havoc roast...

He kept his poker face up while he was with the MC, but he was devising a plan to take care of him the entire time… One he finally got the chance to enact once the MC went to the bathroom.

He's even better at going unnoticed than Levi, so sneaking his way over to the asshole was a piece of cake. He didn't notice until Belphie casually draped his arm around the guy's neck, hanging his clawed hand dangerously close to the scumbag's heart...

"Having a good time…?"

He could feel a shallow swallow against his arm as he began to slowly apply pressure to his trachea.

"I bet you were… and I was too until I saw you following us… Care to explain yourself?"

"I-I uh-Gah!" 

The guy's voice gets cut off by Belphie's arm getting even tighter, the sharp tips of his claws drumming directly over the man's thundering heart.

"Ugh, that's what you actually sound like? Never mind, it's not worth knowing…" His fingers stopped drumming and slowly began to dig into his skin...

"I'm only going to say this once… If I ever see you tailing my human again, you won't be needing this-" his claws drilled a little deeper into his chest, "-anymore. Am I clear?"

The demon's head nodded as much as his strangled throat would allow and Belphie finally retracted his claws, wiping the blood off on the guy's shirt before letting him go. He fell forward onto all fours before attempting to scramble away as fast as he could...

Belphie watched him go with disinterest on his face, but satisfaction in his heart. Yet another threat to his human dealt with… And they could go back to enjoying their evening together. Alone. Just where his human belonged...

[troubatrain]

cowboy like me - m. barzal

a/n: omg suddenly she remembers how to write - so this is bigger than a blurb but definitely shorter than a fic so i’m calling it a baby fic!! i really haven’t written anything i love (or have been able to finish) in weeks so this feels really good to post so i hope you guys like it!!!

tagging @texanstarslove & @hookingminor because they both read this ahead of time to tell me it’s not trash (and i appreciate it sm!!)

“...and the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up, and the old men that I've swindled really did believe I was the one...”

She’s only here for her inheritance.

I heard she was dating a CEO but she got caught having an affair with his assistant.

Careful Barz, you might be next after that contract.

Mat’s gaze was held on you while he listened to his teammates and their wives gossip next to him. Mat saw you twice, maybe three times a year, only when you were forced to show your face at an Islanders event. Other than that, Mat knew no more about than Page Six did about Manhattan’s new up and coming socialite. Your family owned the team, putting a pretty penny in your pocket as long as you kept up with appearances, or at least that’s what Sydney seemed to think. You looked perfect, a silk floor length dress that Mat couldn’t imagine wasn’t made for only your body, hair pinned up perfectly while a pair of earrings hung low. Diamonds for sure. Everything about you was eloquent and expensive, and Mat had heard just about every rumor in the book about you.

Mat felt good about himself that night. He was on a point streak and having a monster season. He was wearing a suit that was tailored to absolute perfection, Mat’s dark brown locks tousled perfectly on his head. There was no reason that he couldn’t just walk up to you and finally take a moment to introduce himself to you instead of gawking at you from afar like he’d been doing since he was a rookie. He was a kid then, and you were probably dating a prince or the son of a millionaire and had no time for a dorky kid from Vancouver. Now, Mat was a man with a contract to match and hopes that you could give him the time of day at least. His gazes lingers a bit longer, watching the way your eyes rolled briefly at whatever that man was saying to you. You excuse yourself, waving your empty wine glass in your and like Mat was stalking his prey - this was the moment.

“You’re not very subtle you know,” You muse, looking over at Mat who was leaning against the bar getting a drink of his own, “And blue’s a better color on you.”

Being a bitch was second nature to you. The way scoring came to Mat or business came to your father and siblings. It was easy to be snarky, because snarky kept people at a distance. Besides, no one thought much about you that didn’t involve how many commas were in your bank account or the constant debate about whether or not you’d gotten a nose job when you were eighteen. If they wanted nothing more than a pretty face, then that’s what you’d give them.

“Noted,” Mat takes a gulp of his drink, and your eyes linger a little too long at his hand wrapped around a glass, “You want to dance?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” You hum, taking a sip of your drink. Mat Barzal had a reputation that was cleaner than your own, the Islanders golden boy if you will, but you knew better than that. You knew about the revolving door in his apartment and all of the girls who got strung along in hopes they’d get to be the ones who wore that number thirteen jersey to games. Mat Barzal was no saint, and it didn’t matter how many rich men he convinced he was.

“No harm in dancing darling,” Mat husks, voice close to your ear while you desperately hoped he didn’t see the goosebumps on your arm. Mat was throwing you off your game, but it’s a welcome feeling. Darling. You liked that one, tired of the men who constantly called you babe or baby.

“One dance Barz,” You took his hand, letting him guide you to the middle of the tent that your parents had set up on the tennis court in the same home you grew up in. Your hand remained in his, your other gripping his shoulder while you swayed back and forth, “You know your teammates are staring.”

And they were. Mat turns his head, stifling a laugh at Tito’s jaw that was practically on the floor, “Let them.”

“Not afraid of the rumors?” You hum, leaning your head on Mat’s shoulder, “Or are you just like me?”

“Like you?” Mat asks, raising his eyebrows at you, grabbing your and spinning you around before he pulled you closer.

“You don’t want love, just a fancy car or two and girls falling at your feet. You’ll ride into town and leave with more damage done than the time before but you’ll always get away with it. You’ll tell all the stuck up rich people anything they want to hear to keep up appearances. A cowboy if you will,” You explain, a smile on Mat’s face telling you that maybe you nailed it on the head.

“And what if those rumors about me aren’t true?” Mat asks, lips ghosting over yours but he won’t kiss you just yet.

“And what if the ones about me aren’t true?” You quip back to avoid Mat’s question about whether or not you believed any of the shit you heard about him.

“Guess we’ll have to find out.”

***

And so you did. It wasn’t supposed to happen, you took Mat home that night no intentions of ever speaking to him again. He was going to leave your place and you were going to be another notch in his bedpost. Because that’s what the Mat Barzal’s of the world did. And you were right after all, Mat Barzal was a bandit, who stole the hearts of the women he saw and deleted their numbers without a second thought.

Except Mat wasn’t going to that with you, well he was, but when he woke up the next morning to see you perched in the chair by the window in your apartment, sipping a cup of tea - he didn’t want to leave. You looked so normal, your walls finally down in the comfort of your own space and suddenly Mat needed to know why you had them up so high to begin with. Mat found out quickly, it was the pressure of the people around you. Your family needed you to be perfect, but they didn’t think you’d be good enough for the family business like your brothers.

I just hope she doesn’t ruin him like Oliver.

Mat needs someone who’s going to support him.

She’s just going to hurt him and he’s going to play like shit because of it.

“Would you just stop for a second?” Mat had been chasing you three blocks from the restaurant he was having a nice dinner with you and your family at. He wasn’t supposed to hear them, but he did and you were embarrassed, “Darling-”

“Mat, stop just stop,” You sigh, finally slowing down because those stupid heels you chose to wore were killing your feet. You shiver for a second, Mat’s large hands move to

your arms to try and warm you up, “Go ahead, ask what horrible thing I did to drive my last boyfriend away… because it wasn’t my fucking fault. He was using me, just like everyone else does and-”

“I believe you,” Mat rushes out, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. It wasn’t the first time one the skeletons in either of your closets would try and tear you apart, and it probably wasn’t going to last. There was always going to be brunches with his teammates who hounded him about his girlfriend’s past or whatever rumor they were hearing. There would always be times their significant others would grab your arm in a crowd when Mat was having a conversation with another woman like he was going to hurt you. That wasn’t going away, but it also didn’t matter to him at all. All of that was before he locked it down, things were different now.

Mat went back to your place that night, taking note of the way one of his suits was pressed and in your closet for him, like he belonged there. He smiled at it, the blue suit you insisted he bought because it was the best color on him, “You’re not mad at me right?”

“Why would I be mad darling?” Mat sighs, smiling softly at his shirt that you seemed to always steal when you stayed over. You give him a look like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world, “I love you, and I don’t care about the past. It’s you and me now and that’s what matters.”

Mat hadn’t said it yet, waiting for the right moment for him to drop a four letter word he never thought he’d ever use. He’d thought it plenty of times, but he was saving for when the moment felt right. Maybe he’d drop it on the trip you had planned in a few weeks, or after a nice date, but you needed to hear it from him now. He loved you, everything down to the way you snored if you had too much to drink.

“I love you too,” You nod, wiping the last tear that had fallen from your eyes, “Cowboy.”

“Call me that forever,” Mat husks, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “And ever.”

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas- Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines

Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader Fanfic

-Pairings: mob! Tom Holland x reader

-Warnings: Language

-Words: 3.9K

Background Info- Tom Holland is boss of his mafia and Y/N Holland, his wife, is former mafia boss turned stay at home mom but still joined Tom on his business trips and meetings. They started dating at 19 and were married at the young age of 21, realizing they only needed each other. They have two kids together, both ages 16, Parker and Rosie Holland.

*Realistically to have two teenagers, Tom and Y/N are both in their mid/late thirties but they look like they are in their mid twenties/late twenties alright. What can I say, they have really good genes. I can guarantee that Tom will still definitely look as gorgeous as he does know in his 30’s.

Author note: I enjoy writing drama, so it’s hard to have constant fluff, mostly angst (I hope, at least what I consider angst). The more times where a character almost dies but doesn’t the better to me. This is my first fanfic, I wrote this story based on being married with kids because that is the part of my life I’m most looking forward to. Heads up but there is tons of dialogue, I find that the most fun to write.

Also I enjoy PDA and a personal goal of mine is to be married for 20 years and still want to jump my husband’s bones so there are a bunch of little hints like that through the fanfic. Sorry if your name is any of the characters, feel free to change them in your mind. I know it’s stupid of me to say that but whatever.

Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines

Words: 3.9K

You and Tom were a power couple. The Hollands, the ones with the most power and the most dangerous. A king and queen to their empire. Lately you had been tackling married life together and had been raising two kids. A boy named Parker and a girl named Rosie both the same age. But nothing could prepare you for what every parent dreads, their teenage years. All the hormones, mood swings and relationship drama that comes with it.

When both the twins turned 16 it was big turning point in your family. Rights of passage as Tom would say. You and Tom threw a massive gala to celebrate their 16 years of being alive. Tom as the leader of his own mob, money was no object and you coming from the family you did and being a former mafia boss, you both had truly opulent wealth. It was the night of their kids’ sixteenth birthday and everyone was invited from family, friends, business associates and even enemies. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer they would say. Tom and tried to keep as much as possible from your kids, trying to give them a normal childhood. Failing over and over again at that. Some nights Tom would come home bloody from beating up someone who crossed him. Or there would always been strange, bulky, built men surrounding your mansion for protection. It was hard to explain everything to the kids, but it was something they just had to do for family.

The party was about to begin, 7:00 on the dot, and the house was decorated to fit a very elegant yet youthful look. Caterers dressed in white carrying bountiful trays of appetizers. Tom and you adored the luxury of their life, even though they knew if they didn’t have all the materials they did they would be even happier. Their family is what mattered most to them. You were dressed to the nines, in a lace gold gown, with sparkly stilettos on. Her Y/H/C hair gracefully laying one her back, without a strand out of the place. And her Y/E/C eyes were beaming, if looks could kill they would. Tom couldn’t help but admire you.

“You know, it’s rude to gawk,” you said and Tom chuckled.

“I’m sorry but you’re just too beautiful not to,” he responded and placing his hands on your hips.

Rolling your eyes and smirking you said “tonight’s the night.”

“I know, should we do it now?” he questioned as his half smile turned into a frown.

“No, let him have this one more night. Without any obligation,” you had been dreading this night for years.

“Alright, darling,” he said as he kissed softly, he just couldn’t contain himself he

found his other half. The person that makes him want to be a better man. His soulmate.

Like any family there are skeletons in their closets but, the Hollands were a whole another story. Tonight was the night, one they had been dreading for 16 years, to be exact. You and Tom’s son, Parker would be tasked with the most difficult decision of his life. One that will rewrite his story. Tom wishes he would just turn it down and do what he didn’t have the balls to do when he was his age.

The day Tom’s dad brought him into the office, he knew his life would never be the same. Dom, his father and former boss of the Holland empire, made it very clear that if he turned him down, he could forget about being in this family. Tom just knows he won’t give the same ultimatum. Parker being the oldest and only son of Tom and Y/N Holland is the future of their family empire. Parker was quite popular, a playboy actually and very dashing. Wearing a black suit with a black tie and a white shirt he look just like his dad with his brown hair slicked back. Being one of the guests of honor tonight he had to look the part. Slowly made his way to the bar before his mother could find him. Desperately needing some liquid courage, he quickly poured himself a shot of vodka and downed it even faster. However nothing gets past, you, Y/N Holland.

“Parker Jackson Holland!” you fumed, catching her 16 year old son drinking.

“Hey, what’s with the middle naming me, it’s my birthday,” he responded a little startled.

“You should not be drinking, ever. You got two years, mister,” you explained.

“Alright, mum,” Parker sounded annoyed.

“Where’s your sister by the way, party is supposed to start in 10 mins,” you said as she noticed all the guest starting to arrive. A line of people already waiting at the door but everyone knew the Hollands preferred people to arrive fashionably late.

“I don’t know. Having a fit probably. Last I heard was screaming coming from her closet.”

“I’ll go check on her. Your father and I need you sober later. Understood?” You exclaimed.

“Yes, mum.” Parker was a good boy on paper but, enjoyed breaking the rules.

Right as you turned away, Parker then started to pour another shot.

“Don’t even think about it,” you said still walking forward. Parker chuckled and set the shot down.

You went to go check on her daughter. You knocked on the door when she heard something shatter. Rosie may seem timid but she definitely inherited Tom’s anger issues.

“Honey? Is everything alright?” You questioned, startled by the outburst.

“Yeah, mum. I’m sorry,” Rosie muttered seeming frustrated.

“It’s ok, oh honey!” You exclaimed, noticing the tears on her daughter face

“I know, this is stupid,” Rosie whispered trying to hide her tear stained face.

“No, no it isn’t. What’s wrong?” you said, genuinely concerned for her daughter’s well-being.

“I don’t know everything, this dress, my hair, my makeup,” she exclaimed frantically.

“Baby, you look beautiful.”

“Pretty enough that someone would want to dance with me?” Rosie whispered. You were caught off guard that your daughter could ever have thoughts like that.

“Yes of course, you are always gorgeous.” You hated seeing your baby girl beat herself up based on her looks.

“Thanks mom, I have a question?” You just nodded in response.

How did you get dad to fall in love with you?” Rosie asked inquisitively.

“Um, I guess was just myself. I didn’t put on a facade and I was very honest and transparent with him,” you answered a little taken back from the question.

“You were yourself? I find that hard to believe. From stories I’ve heard you seemed to be bold, brave and beguiling” said Rosie with a hint of sarcasm.

“Am I not those things now?” You asked, cheekily.

“No you are, just in a different way.”

“Honey, whoever you are trying impress, will love for who you are, ok?” You couldn’t stand seeing her daughter like this.

“Alright. Can you help me with my makeup?” Rosie asked because her previous makeup had been ruined by her miniature breakdown

“Yes, of course.”

Back at the party Tom was making his way around saying hello to almost everyone. He desperately needed to find his son. Tom’s and Parker’s relationship was interesting to say the least. As babies and toddlers Tom was there. He loved his kids so much but as they grew older they only noticed the times he wasn’t there. Only the missed recitals and football games, never all times that had dinner as a family and he tucked them in to bed at night. Parker is closer to his mother and his twin sister. Never really having that man to man talk with his dad yet. The time when fathers stop seeing their sons as boys and look at them as men. Tom approached Parker sitting there with his a drink in his hand, he hoped was a watered down Pepsi.

“Hey Parker, did your mom talk to you already?” Tom asked, not trying to raise too many questions.

“No, she might have mentioned something,” Parker responded.

“Ok, well after cake meet me in my office.” Parker nodded in response and noticed how he tensed a little at the conversation.

Their chat quickly ended when Harrison and his 16 year old son Henry came to wish happy birthday. Harrison is Tom’s right hand man, his consigliere and his best friend. He was more than that, Harrison was family. Harrison’s son, Henry was best friends with Parker and Rosie, ever since birth.

“Hey mate,” Tom said to his best friend Harrison.

“Hey, just came to wish this guy “happy birthday”” he said patting Parker’s shoulder.

“Happy birthday, dude” Henry said to Parker and he returned with subtle “thank you’s.” Parker slightly nodded to his dad to see if he could leave the conversation and Tom let him know it was ok.

“Come on, let’s go,” Parker exclaimed making his way to den where his other friends were.

Harrison was the first to speak up, “Have you told him yet?”

“No, Y/N and I are going to do it tonight” Tom uttered with a low toned voice.

“Geez, do you need me there?” Harrison asked, afraid Tom might say yes. Harrison was there when Tom went through the same process with his dad. Tom’s anger issues didn’t help the outcome.

“I think I’m alright, just family. Not that I don’t consider you family but I don’t even know if Rosie should be there.” Tom justified.

“It’s alright mate, I get it.”

They were both enjoying their night, making their rounds, Tom and Harrison went to get drinks, not beer this time but a scotch on the rocks as this was a classy night. Everything was dandy up until one of Tom’s men, William, came up to him informing Tom of a problem.

“Sir we have a problem,” William whispered to Tom, Tom nodded for them to follow them to his office.

“William, what now? Can’t you see I’m enjoying the party?” Tom exclaimed, closing the doors to his office.

“Sir, Daniel, was found dead at his post outside, shot by a tranquilizer gun, with a note taped to his chest, it’s for you.” William announced and handed the paper to the most important and dangerous man of the mob, his boss.

“What the fuck?” A long silence stayed in the air while Tom processed the news. Awkwardness had filled the entire room as they all awaited Tom’s response.

“For fucks sake, you need at least 3 guards posted outside. NOW!” He screamed as his anger continued to rise as read the note.

“Yes, Sir.” William said promptly.

“God forbid anything else happen tonight, but my wife and kids are the first ones to be escorted to safe house. Understood?” Tom explained as he only was only thinking about his family in that moment.

“Yes, Sir.” William said and quickly ran out before he could get the brunt of Tom’s upcoming outburst. Right on cue, Tom threw a glass ashtray at the wall, it shattering into shards.

“Calm down mate, what did the note even say.” Harrison asked with a worrisome look on his face. Tom showed Harrison the joy and his smile faded immediately. Tom for the first time, in a while, felt fear because he knew he had everything to lose.

Not wanting to deal with the life long headache that is his life. He looked for solace in, you, his wife as he spotted her over by the fireplace and made his way over to you.

“Have told you look stunning tonight?” He said instantly falling in love with you over again.

“Several times actually,” you said.

“Well I can’t help what you do to me, gorgeous.” He said placing a kiss to your temple.

“Hey, have you had the talk with him yet?” You said pointing a finger at your son getting very intimate with some girl.

The girl was Charlotte Owens. Parker and her had been together for almost a year, but you and Tom hadn’t met her formally yet. Your son was very tight-lipped the it came to his private life. She was tall, fair and had platinum blonde hair along with piercing blue eyes. Rosie didn’t seem to like her very much, constantly annoyed by her popularity status and reputation, used to be known for being with a new guy every couple weeks and don’t put it past Rosie to not give her the benefit of the doubt.

“No, remember we’re going to do it tonight. Is something wrong?” He said with concern, worried why you would forget something so important.

“No, not that talk, silly, “The talk”,” you responded. His lips formed an “o” shaped as he realized he would have to teach his son about how to be safe during sex.

“Oh, no. I’ve been avoiding it for as long as possible.”

“Why baby, you’re so good at it. You could give him a few a pointers.” You said, winking at him.

“Wow, love, you surprise me everyday. Speaking of beautiful girls, where’s Rosie. I’ve haven’t seen her all night,” Tom quickly trying to change the subject as they were at a party.

“I saw her a few minutes ago,” you said as a puzzled look grew on her face.

“Come on, let’s go find her and maybe you and I can sneak off for awhile.” He said cheekily.

“Tommy,” you whispered but eventually agreed. Slowly making your way out of the main ballroom to the secret garden next to his office.

Walking very slyly, you both made your way to secret spot near Tom’s office. Where ivy had grown throughout the brick and purple and yellow tulips lined the fence along with giant trees. There was a little wishing fountain that Tom had installed when you moved in, this was their secret spot. One where they could forget about all the violence and responsibility that tainted their lives.

Their intimate moment was ruined when Rosie walked by with some random guy named Connor, not the person she’d hope to bring there. All throughout the night Rosie seemed to be jealous of the attention her crush was getting at the party as he didn’t pay attention to her. Thus, she went find a distraction of her own.

“Oh hey, shh, look two people getting it on over there,” he whispered to her as she dragged him outside.

“Please don’t be my brother.” She murmured but felt like she wanted to throw up when she saw who it was.

“Mom, dad?” Rosie screamed.

“Oh shit, we’ve been busted,” Tom muttered against your neck.

“Hey honey,” You said while Rosie was completely mortified. Rosie’s potential hookup stood there mouth wide open.

“That’s your mum, god, she’s a babe.” Connor said.

“Connor, not helping.” Rosie exclaimed sternly as she pinched his side.

Tom spoke up, “Why don’t you guys go back and enjoy the rest of the party.”

Rosie just nodded and left as fast as humanly possible. She never wants to be that embarrassed again.

“Oh my god, we were gonna get it later.” You said.

“I know, we really screwed up this time. But have you had “the talk” with her yet,” Tom asked.

“Nope, we should both really get on that. What would I’ve happened if they hadn’t caught us?” You asked jokingly.

“I don’t want to think about that Y/N! She’s our daughter.” Tom exclaimed.

“Neither do I.”

“Enough of this, where were we?” Tom interjected immediately changing the subject.

“Well you lips were on my neck and you hand was on my waist, but I think the moment has passed and we should get back to the party,” you said rather seductively.

“Fine, I know you’re right. But fuck, I just want to make out with my wife,” Tom muttered frustratingly.

“Well you can later... in bed.” Winking as you chuckled.

“Man, that kid was right, you are a babe.”he said as he slapped your ass as you walked in front of him chuckling.

“Is it time for cake?” Harrison asks as he came up to Tom and you.

“I think it is.” Tom said and you nodded. Walking towards Rosie, who was desperately trying to erase her self from existence because of the embarrassment she’d experienced a minute ago.

“Hi, honey. Can you please go find your brother? We are going to cut the cake.” You said trying not to accidentally bring up the elephant in the room.

“Alright, fine,” Rosie muttered still a little peeved finding you and Tom like that. Rosie searched high and low for Parker.

Needing some assistance she asked Henry. “Hey, have you seen my brother?”

“Last I saw he was taking Charlotte to the green house” Henry responded.

“Alright, come on, let’s go find them” Rosie said rolling her eyes. Her hand slipped into Henry’s as she led the way. Making their way through the vast yet gorgeous yard. Rosie and Henry found Parker and Charlottes lips entangled together and bodies in a compromising position in the green house

“For fucks sake, how many people am I going to find sucking face at this party.” Rosie yelled, startling Charlotte and Parker.

“What the fuck do you want, Rosie? Can’t you see I’m busy.” Parker quipped annoyingly.

“Mom and dad want to cut the cake” Rosie responded.

“Ugh fine. Give us 10 mins” knowing he will be finished in that time.

“No, you can fuck your bimbo of a girlfriend later.” Rosie said, receiving a grimace from Charlotte.

“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that! Fuck off!” Parker yelled as Henry and Rosie left. Both of the kids had inherited Tom’s angry side.

“Well, you can explain to mom and dad you were late because you were balls deep in in your whore,” Rosie said walking away.

The moments leading up to the end of Parker’s innocence were fleeting. In more ways than one. He wasn’t a virgin even before that evening but, Parker could imagine the task he was supposed to accomplish. The 3 tier chocolate raspberry ganache cake had been cut and distributed to the guests. Happy birthday had been sung to Rosie and Parker. Parker tried to go off with Charlotte again, but Harrison stopped him and brought him to the Tom’s office.

“They’re in there,” Harrison whispered.

“Who?” Parker asked Harrison who was like his uncle.

“Just go,” Parker opened the door to see his mother and his dad sat behind the desk. The door shut behind him.

“Mom? Dad? What’s going on here?” Parker hesitated.

“Son, sit down,” Tom said, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy.

“We have to talk to you.” You interjected.

“Parker, as part of this family, there are certain responsibilities you have to take. It is a tradition in our family that at the age of 16, the sons are brought to light about the dealings of our family and what is expected of you,” Tom said as Parker grew wary. Not really understanding what his parents were trying to convey.

Throughout his entire life, he had his suspicions about his family. Wondering why men followed them everywhere, even on trips to the store for eggs. Why his parents went to work but have never seen their office, only heard it referred to as “the warehouse.” Why everything was always so damm secretive. Scared if he accidentally let some enormous family secret slip with his big mouth there would be repercussions. Never not scared of the harm that could come to his family.

“Your father, is the leader of a very powerful mob. I am part of it too, not just as wife but as his partner. There will be day when he will longer be in position of boss and you will take over,” you asserted playing off of Tom’s words.

“Our family is not only the owners of one of the world’s richest exporting company, we also do business with casinos and own multiple hotel chains. Sometimes our work brings us above the law, but the connections we have are what keep us alive.” Tom explained trying to preserve his son’s innocence.

“Why are you telling me all this?” Parker stuttered.

“Because it is time. Time for you to step up and take your place in this family. You’ve had 16 years of juvenile fun and now this is what has to be done.” Tom concluded.

“What if I don’t want this life. You don’t think I don’t know what happens behind closed doors here. All the times dad has come home with a black eye or blood on his knuckles. Why fuck isn’t Rosie here? She is the same age as me, WE ARE TWINS! Why am I the only one who has to do this. I don’t want to kill for sport like you and mom!” Parker screamed. He couldn’t handle this anymore. There was too much information he had to process.

“Do not raise your voice at your mother! Tom screamed.

“Dad, I had dreams and hopes. I wanted to go to college and travel. Find a nice girl and marry her. Experience the kind of love you and mom have. What you are asking me to do, flushes all that away. You are asking me to give up on my life.

So that’s it, I don’t have a choice,” Parker begged.

“Baby, you have a choice. Nothing is set in stone,” you said rubbing his arm.

“Y/N, you damm well know what will happen if he turns this down,” Tom yelled.

“Maybe this life works for you two, but I don’t want this kind of life. My answer is no. Find someone else.”

“Parker, you know I can’t do that. Take a couple days and think about it” Tom answered trying to stay calm.

“NO DAD! My answer is final, I’m not going to be your apprentice to carry on this heinous family legacy!” Parker exploded. It was too much.

“If you aren’t willing to do what is asked of you, then you can forget about being in this family!” Tom screamed. He did exactly what he said he wouldn’t, he gave his son an ultimatum. Parker couldn’t handle it anymore and left. Needing to forget about the fact he no longer had a say. He was stuck.

It was just Tom and you sitting in the study. They couldn’t understand where the conversation had gone. All their hopes for tonight went out the window along with potted plant Tom threw when Parker stormed out.

“Tom, you can’t force him. You can’t do what your father did to you to him.” You tried to say in a loving tone but it came out as stern.

“IM NOT, Y/N!!!” Tom screamed. He had fucked up. The words spoken tonight have rewritten his relationship with his son.

“Alright.” You whispered trying to calm your fuming husband down.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice, baby.” Tom’s tone immediately changed once he heard the softness of your voice. You just nodded in response

“Tommy?” You asked hoping Tom was now ok.

“Yes, love” Tom said.

“He’ll come around. I can promise you that.”

“I know, darling. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what?” a look of confusion grew on your face.

He handed you a paper, the same one that was found on Daniel’s body, saying “Eclipsing of the Hollands. Let the show begin. Better watch your back.”

It was threat. A play to eventually be made on his life or the life of his family and you all had no idea who was behind it.

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

[multimilfs]

Zelda Spellman x Fem!Reader x Lilith: Complexities of a Witch

Summary: thewriting-dragon requested “Zelda X Reader X Lilith: Two sassy badass magical milfs and their soft gf who would kill multiple men to see her strong girlfriends just have a moment's peace because they deserve it.”

A/N: Okay nobody fillet me if certain details for s3 are off. I don’t remember them entirely so I’m going off of the little information I remembered and some youtube clips. That aside, I hope you all enjoy!! 

Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul​ @multifandomfix​ @angel7376 

Warning(s): Minor Violence

You could swear that your hair was turning grey. With each passing day, the stress piled on, until you were positive that strands of your hair were turning color. It left you stunned and confused. Zelda had almost a hundred years on you and her hair was perfectly normal. And she dealt with more stress everyday than an entire town would.

“Zelda,” You whined, coming out of the bathroom, “I’m greying.”

Looking up from her book, she scoffed at the dramatics. She marked her place with a finger. Her eyes scanned you from head to toe, narrowed in concentration.

“You most certainly are not,” She finally declared, “I don’t see a single grey hair on your head.”  

“Well, you’re missing it, Zee. All of you are stressing me to the point of madness and my hair is starting to reflect it.”

“Oh, hush. Come here.”

You trudged over to her side of the bed, perching next to her as she looked over your strands closely. Her nails lightly scratched at certain areas of your scalp during her examination. Finally, she leant away from you and shook her head.

“One grey strand, Y/N. You’re raising heaven over a single strand?” Zelda rolled her eyes.

“One strand leads to more! Before you know it, I’ll have a head of them.”

“Oh, Y/N, do be reasonable.”

“I am! How have you not gone grey? Sabrina puts you through so much.”

“Oh that’s easy, I stopped caring ages ago.” Zelda said easily, leaning back against the pillows.

You knew as well as she did that it was a lie. She loved Sabrina to a fault, constantly putting up with her antics. You all did. But it seemed she had no intention of continuing the line of conversation. So you resorted to a sure way to get answers; teasing Zelda until she gave up the truth.

“Are you sure that you’re not dyeing your hair and hiding it from us?” You asked innocently, trying to hide your mischievous grin behind a hand.

Zelda sputtered indignantly, attempting to form words, but failing to do so. You couldn’t hold back your laugh at her reaction. She frowned, recognizing your teasing and obviously not feeling very keen on it.

“What have you done to inspire such a frown?” A warm, curious voice said from behind the two of you.

Not aware of another presence in the room, you nearly fell off of the bed in surprise. You leveled a glare at Lilith as she leant against the door. Her look was far too smug for your liking.

“See?” You said, looking at Zelda, “The antics of this family will turn my hair in a week!”

“Lilith, tell her that she’s being entirely too dramatic about this.” Zelda requested.

“I’ll do no such thing,” Lilith responded, clearly enjoying herself, “Even I would struggle to maintain the natural hair color of this body if I were in her position.”

A long, hard stare was aimed at the demoness. She was completely unfazed by it, having become used to far worse looks in Hell. You just grinned triumphantly at Zelda for a few moments. It was very rare that Lilith took your side in matters like these. Zelda and Lilith tended to be of like mind, especially when it would grate on your nerves.

Rather than respond to any of the teasing, Zelda turned onto her side, facing away from the two of you with a huff. You laughed silently, shaking the bed with the effort to keep it contained.

“Aw, Zee, I’m sorry.” You tried, leaning your head on her shoulder.

“You certainly are not.”

“Oh but I am, aren’t I, Lilith?”

“Yes, very sorry.” She agreed, though without enough emotion to seem sincere.

“Go to bed, both of you.” Zelda demanded, turning over for just a moment to press a kiss to your lips and glare in Lilith’s direction, before turning the lights off with a snap.

Through the darkness, you heard Lilith scoff at the other witch’s behavior. Though part of you expected her to stay awake in protest, the bed soon dipped with her weight. Her arms wrapped around you and you allowed yourself to fall asleep just like that.

----

When you woke up, there was a dreadful absence on both of your sides. Though the blankets were piled on top of you, the chill in the air wormed its way past them. You shook without either of your lovers to keep you warm.

Reaching out blindly, you searched for them with closed eyes. Lilith often took to reading before you woke, perching herself on the bench at the foot of the bed. If stretched fully then you could typically poke her in the back. Nothing met your reach.

You grumbled miserably. If neither witch was in the room, it meant they’d already convened for breakfast. Likely, you had slept longer than intended, and would be sure to hear about it.

Dreading the inevitable teasings and musings of Zelda, you trudged from bed and down the stairs. But no noise followed your descent from the last step. There was no light chatter or laughter from the kitchen. The comforting babbling of the pots and shrieking of the kettle, nowhere to be found.

“Hilda? Zelda, Lilith?” You called, walking into the kitchen.

The area that was so typically warm and busy, was now completely empty. Cold light seeped in through the drawn curtains. A chill went down your spin as you spun around, looking in every part of the room for someone of the Spellman family.

“Sabrina… Ambrose?” You tried helplessly.

No luck.

Timidly, you stepped further into the room. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in the cobwebs clinging to the chandelier; cobwebs you were positive hadn’t been there previously. Tracing over the table led to a collection of dust on the end of your finger. Everything felt hopelessly, terribly confusing.

A sudden crash to your right put you on high alert, throwing your hands up just in time. But it wasn’t a wild animal or enemy looking back at you, frozen in space. It was Ambrose.

“Ambrose!” You exclaimed, dropping your magical hold to throw your arms around him, “I am so glad to see you.”

“As am I, Auntie, but we can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

You reeled away from him, confused at his words. What could be safer than your own home? The one you’d all been part of for so long? Zelda had to be around somewhere, she’d never abandon the mortuary. It wasn’t her style.

“Ambrose, you’re talking nonsense. Now where are Zelda and Lilith? I’m sure we can handle whatever Sabrina has cooked up as a family.”

“You don’t understand,” Ambrose said in a severe whisper, “Nowhere is safe. Not even Hell.”

His tone sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t hard to throw off the balance of this plane, but it was unheard of for the infernal plane to be affected. And if Hell was dangerous then that meant…

“Where is everyone, Ambrose?” You whispered, fearing the answer, “Where is Zelda? Lilith? Your Aunt Hilda would never let the house become so tattered… are they…”

“You really don’t know what’s going on?” He asked.

“If I knew what was going on I wouldn’t be asking you.”

“They all… I mean, well... The pagans brought the reckoning and very few survived.”

“No,” You shook your head, backing away, “They can’t be gone. Not like this.”

“I’m sorry, Auntie.”

He placed a hand on your arm, squeezing gently. You felt like his words had gutted you and left you hollow. Despite the fine layers of dust and cobwebs, the memories of the house still felt alive around you.

The smell of Zelda’s cigarette smoke lingered on everything. You could practically see her there, newspaper in hand, smoke billowing from behind it. Lilith’s voice rang in your ears, heckling Zelda about something miniscule. It was always like that. Warm, teasing, and comfortable. You would hide a laugh, but Zelda knew you too well.

Your family lingered in every corner.

Another squeeze on your arm brought you back to the present, looking directly at Ambrose. His eyes were full of the sadness that you felt. But his held more reserve, more… acceptance. This was new to you, though it wasn’t to him.

You refused to let yourself cry. Neither Zelda or Lilith would have wanted it, they cared for action. In your heart you knew that all you could do was work with the tools you had. Magic, heart, and Ambrose.

“Alright, now fill me in on these Pagans.” You said.

And fill you in he did. Though nothing could explain how the time had moved without you, how you ended up in the middle without even knowing it. Fortunately, just as the two of you hit a dead end, Sabrina appeared out of nowhere.

The details were fuzzy and you were running on a lot of hope, but you had faith in Sabrina. If not, at least she had her misplaced confidence. You’d go out fighting.

Sabrina was to shift things around in time, to bring back your loved ones. You stood by Zelda’s skeleton in the Mortuary’s basement, hoping that any second she’d become real, as Sabrina united the past, present, and future once more.

You felt the change, but nothing happened next to you. The hope in your heart was slowly waning. It was hard to hold back the emotions, but it seemed not to matter at all, as a rustling next to you became apparent.

Sitting up on the table was Zelda, looking confused and extremely annoyed. Ambrose explained that she’d been shot at the front door. You wanted to make the person pay, but right now you were entirely too happy to see Zelda to care.

“Zelda,” You breathed out, making her look to you, before wrapping your arms around her, “You’re okay.”

“Of course I am. I couldn’t leave you to deal with Sabrina alone, now could I?” She asked.

Her voice was hauty, but you knew she was joking by the sweet tone in her voice. The gentleness you heard only in special moments.

“Speaking of Sabrina, we’re meeting her near the Cain pit. You missed a lot while you were… sleeping.”

You could see that she detested waiting for any answers, but grudgingly let you pull her out to the Cain pit, where a large group of witches were waiting. It was then that she realized why she hadn’t been buried in it. Hilda was still laying in it and had been for far too long.

Her grip tightened on your hand and you squeezed back. You’d spent the last day mourning your entire family, but Hilda had been with Zelda since they were children. The pain there was likely unimaginable.

But you all joined hands, amplifying Zelda’s wishes. Her screams to the sky, calling on Hecate. The pain in her voice rang through you like a shot. If you weren’t present, forming a circle with your sister witches, you could’ve sworn you had been shot. The pain certainly felt similar.

Waiting with bated breath, Zelda called out after her chanting. One hand placed on the dirt of the Cain pit.

“Hildy?” She said brokenly.

Then, to everyone’s relief, a hand broke through the dirt. Zelda grabbed it eagerly. You could feel the tension leave everyone’s body. It made you especially grateful to release their hands.

You watched joyfully as Hilda clawed her way out of the dirt, crouching to help her. The dirt caked under your nails didn’t bother you like it normally would. It was a small price to pay.

After that, the plan was laid out. By Sabrina, no less. All of the witches were in agreement on how the Pagans would be dealt with. With swift, painful justice. It would be far too dangerous to let them live any longer. They would just work their way back into this same situation. The plan would take place as they sacrificed the virgin of their choosing to the Green Man.

There was enough time for everyone to disband and prepare, or rest, in your case. But you couldn’t bear to rest now. You had your entire family back, minus one key person. Lilith. Little was known about what had happened in Hell, or maybe Ambrose wouldn’t tell you much.

You just knew that your heart was aching, longing for the other woman you so deeply loved. A fire, long put out, was burning in your gut. It threatened to overwhelm you. Instead, you vowed to save it for the Pagans.

You would get your life back, no matter what it took.

----

The plan had worked perfectly. Sabrina had gone disguised as Robin, Pesta disguised as Ms. Wardwell. Now the Pagans were fleeing. But the big three, the so called ‘Gods’, were frantically packing their things.

Hilda went after Circe, Harvey and Roz went after the gorgon, and that left Pan to you. While the rest of your coven chased the younger Pagans, you elected to confront Pan head-on. Alone. While he loaded his truck, out in the open, you walked up. You did your best to keep your anger at bay when he set his eyes on you.

“What can I do for you, witch?” He snarled.

“You’ve taken something very important from me. I want it back.” You said casually.

The laugh that left his mouth was cold, empty of any humor whatsoever. You wanted to scream, to rip him limb from limb over what he’d done to your family. Your coven. The pain all of them had endured because of them.

“Not likely. I don’t offer kindness to the whores of Satan.”

“You don’t offer kindness to anyone, false God.” You hissed.

His hackles raised then, offended beyond what words could say. Stepping away from his vehicle, he sneered at you, disdain clear in his eyes. Stretching his arms out to either side revealed his true nature beneath the illusion. The true Pan.

“Your Satan is the false God, but I am real, for I am the great God Pan. And my gaze is madness incarnate…” He proclaimed in a haughty tone.

Your clapping stunned him. It was slow and deliberate, fake and insulting. You held no fear as you walked right up to him and stared directly into his eyes.

“I’ve consumed madness before,” You said, a twisted smile spreading on your lips as he stepped back, “And I kept returning for more.”

With a snap of your fingers, the shimmer illusion around him dropped. The one barrier between you and his true form. Your eyes never dropped from his. He attempted to step away from you, but you wouldn’t have it. Then you swung your arm viciously.

“This is for Zelda,” You whispered after burying a blade in his chest, before pulling it out and burying it in his neck, “And that is for Lilith.”

He crumpled to the ground in front of you. As you stood over him, you stared at the wounds you made. Part of you wished that you’d taken more time to make him suffer. But what’s done is done, you can't turn back time.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Turning, your eyes landed on Lilith and Zelda. It was Lilith who’d spoken, leaning against a tree, her smirk visible even from where you were standing. Your heart jumped in your chest at seeing her alive and well.

“You’re… You’re back.” You said happily, tears in your eyes.

“Of course I am. Now, are you going to give me a proper welcome or not?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

You wasted no time in moving to her and throwing yourself into her arms. At first, you did your best to be mindful of where your hands were. Pan’s blood was all over them and you didn’t want to stain her dress, but she didn’t seem to mind as she took your hands into her’s.

She pulled you into a searing kiss. All your thoughts of revenge faded into nothingness as your lips met hers. Personally, you’d never felt Hellfire, but you would bet that it had nothing on her kiss.

Zelda scoffed from beside the two of you. Without looking at her, you knew without a doubt that her eyes were rolling. It was her trademark at this point.

With no small amount of effort, you pulled away from Lilith’s kiss, extending a hand to Zelda. Letting her annoyance wane for a moment, she took it and kissed you just as aggressively as Lilith had. Though where Zelda had rolled her eyes, Lilith was now watching with dark eyes.

It would have been easy to let the touches descend into something sinfully fun, but that wasn’t what you felt. You were so relieved to have your lovers back safe. Overwhelmingly, you felt nothing but your intense love in this moment.

“Let’s go home.” You whispered after pulling away, happily dragging both witches back to your safe haven.

----

“Look at this,” You urged Zelda over to your side, pointing to your hair, “Right here.”

“You’re calmer about this one, I see.” She said.

“I think I… appreciate them now, more than I hate them.”

“Is that so?”

“I wouldn’t have them if I didn’t care. So I consider it good that I care so much about my family, even if it gives me grey hair.” You admitted, avoiding her eyes as your cheeks burned red.

Zelda was quiet for a few moments and you wondered if you left her speechless for once. But rather than say anything, she placed a sweet kiss upon your lips. Her thumb rubbed over your cheekbone affectionately.

“Having so much love is a remarkable gift.” Zelda murmured, punctuating the statement with another kiss.

You leaned into the rare moment of open, sappy affection. It was nice to spend time like this, reveling in the love of your family. To know how loved you were.

“I walked into a sap fest, I see,” Lilith’s voice came from the doorway, “Hard to believe I’m looking at the same witch who slaughtered a God two days ago.”

She was nursing a glass in her hand, taking a sip as her humorous eyes glanced over the rim. You gave a small laugh. Though she'll tease you endlessly about your ways, she did envy how open you could be with all of it. Love, care, honesty. It’d been completely foreign to her for so long.

“What can I say, sweetheart? I’m just complex like that.”

[dykeza]

So I’m reference to the Jade route post I Just made I think Aizen functions on the same axis as both Jade and Dirk. Lemme explain.

JADE is on an axis of narrative importance vs. narrative propulsion AKA does she have depth in a given scene or does she move the narrative forward at her own expense/no depth. Most scenes in Homestuck (at least later into Homosuck) have Jade as narrative propulsion, such as 1.) the golden ship with June, 2.) June fucking dies (Jade now alone on ship for 3 years) <- this is important to the Narrative, not the Jade. Right?

Okay. DIRK is a suicidal narrator. Not an unreliable narrator, shockingly enough Dirk is Painfully honest with the reader about the point of Homestuck, the Epilogues, and HS^2. He doesn’t lie to the audience, and he doesn’t Need to lie to the characters. This is because while Dirk is an existing force outside of the narrative inside of Homestuck, everyone else (except for Jade, Calliope, and possibly Jake) IS in the narrative inside of Homestuck. Anyways, Dirk is also a prince of heart, which means he becomes the antithesis to the self(ish) (self). Put simply, heart is ego and mind is lack of ego, mind is opposite to heart, Prince becomes opposite of aspect, therefore Dirk is the embodiment of the lack of ego [if we can assume that “ego” in this context means connection to the narrative skeleton and muscle].

To become Ultimate Dirk (it has been 3 years since I have said that phrase out loud or written), our good old fashioned Nor/Mal Dirk loses connection with the people inside of the Narrative, and gains an ascended understanding of their character, and therefore acts upon his own convictions as New Narrator to propel the story via influencing the characters from within the story (because he is fictional). This doesn’t work very well because it’s kind of like talking to a man who once spoke perfect English (assuming you also do so), but he took a fuck ton of drugs against his will because God told him to, and now he has a new version of English that is the Correct Version, unbridled by Human and Social understanding of language, so talking to him is like speaking to someone who only talks in clicks and whistles. But the person with the New English Update is on the better software, and now they think everyone else sucks, and tries to either 1.) get them to get the software update or 2.) pop their brains till they catchphrase and skip town.

This is Aizen to me because he:

1. Exists on an axis of personal growth vs. narrative propulsion. The only time we learn ANYTHING about Aizen as a person, his history, etc. is when the fight is over and the “good guys” won. *You can argue TBTP gave us Aizen Moments, but all that did was tell us that he had/has raw, hardcore gay sex with men and had/has done so for upwards of 100 years. TBTP gave us backstory on Kisuke, Shinji, and why Aizen is so good at deepthroating people who are objectively better than him.*

2. Aizen didn’t want to be all powerful, in fact he wanted nothing more than to be as normal as anyone else. I’d go as far as to say Aizen didn’t even want to be a Soul Reaper, but his power wasn’t something he chose, and Soul Society itself will take what it wants, so who is to say Aizen even had a choice. This is much akin to Ascension in Homestuck, where characters- mostly- don’t want to ascend, and become physically ill and even comatose if they fight it. We see this with Rose, who can feel her ascension taking hold, and spends nearly all of Meat unconscious, and she is freed from this sickness in Candy- but only when Dirk kills himself- effectively stopping the Narrative of Candy, and therefore stopping the ascension of any other character.

3. Funny joke about both Dirk and Aizen being egotistical, pathetic, gay losers who are so obsessed with Funnie Green Guy that it makes them physically ill and their crush turns to hatred because feelings are hard, especially for guys with childhood trauma and too much power to handle.

4. “Pop their brains till they catchphrase and skip town.” is my favorite sentence ever. I’m pretty sure I read it from a Tomatogrator tweet and I’ve been saying it ever since. In nor/mal terms, it’s simply mind-breaking someone until they go Default Mode and hail you as a god despite all you’ve done to them. Case and point: Momo Hinamori, my daughter, Momo Hinamori.

And that’s why. [chekcs notes] dirkjake is endgame, urashin is better than aishin, and Jade Harley is the character of all time. Thank yuo and goodnight.

[softyoongiionly]

BlackHeart Bakery

Who says Halloween can’t be romantic?

Pairing: Emo! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: fluff

A/N: HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. I love you, I hope you like it. I’m sorry it isn’t longer but, I still can’t wait for you to read it.

-you never imagined that the quirky lil bakery down the street from your university would change your life  

-But it did

-“Omg shut up, you’re so dumb.”

-“Rawr xD”

-“Did you just say rawr xD out loud??? That totally defeats the purpose of its existence...”

-“Don’t cite the deep magic to me witch, I was there when it was written.”

-“And now you’re quoting the chronicles of narnia- alright just go back to sleep you big dummy...”

-“Mmm but you married a big dummy so what does that say about you”

-“Jungkook don't spoil it oh my god!”

-“Like they don’t know what’s coming already- spoiler alert losers! I get the girl.”

-“I hate you...”

-“Mm yeah- I love it when you talk dirty to me baby. The last time you said that- we ended up fuc-“

-“Ok! That’s enough! Our story begins...”

-Jungkook’s bakery was quite famous around your city

-If people didn’t come for the gaudy Halloween decorations  

-They came for the music  

-Exclusively pop punk, if you’re wondering

-It was like 2009 everyday  

-Which was comforting, considering the world has gotten a little

-Tricky

-Since then

-But anyways

-If they didn’t come for the music or the decorations

-They came for the AMAZING espresso  

-And the spooky themed treats

-But if you’re being honest

-You think the main thing that keeps them coming back

-Is Jungkook  

-If his sweeping black hair didn’t get you

-Or the adorable cheeky twinkle in his eyes

-It was the tattoos and the piercings  

-He looked like he walked right off of a black veil brides music video set  

-He was hot

-This was obvious

-But he didn’t seem to think so

-You had come to the conclusion that he was oblivious  

-he shoved his feet into his big black doc martens every morning  

-Slipped on his beaded bracelets and studded chokers

-Pulled his fall out boy t-shirt over his

-Massive

-Tattooed

-Biceps

-And just thought hm

-I’m pretty average I guess (lol)

-That’s a direct quote from him btw

-Men truly are hopeless

-Jungkook opened the bakery two years ago

-He had mentioned to you that he had saved up money from his 3 part time jobs to put a down payment on the building  

-Which was wedged between a sex shop

-And a thrift store

-And honestly his bakery

-Blackheart Bakery, if you’re being specific  

-Fits right in

-Jungkook refuses to hire new staff

-“They won’t do it right.” He whined to you one day

-“One time I tried to hire this guy and he put the sugared googly eyes on the cookie skeletons ALL WRONG”

-“How do you put googly eyes on wrong?” You had giggled

-“you just do- i- See? This is exactly why I can’t hire anyone...”

-You had started chewing on the end of your pencil in the midst of your laughter

-It was an unconscious habit

-And it makes Jungkook shift uncomfortably, his hands moving off of the top of your table

-“Don’t do that...” he had muttered, smirking to himself as he walked back behind the counter  

-he did that a lot

-He’d mutter something  

-Mildly flirtatious under his breath and then  

-Just walk away

-It was quite confusing

-But honestly you had a feeling he was just a filrty person  

-You certainly weren’t the only girl he smirked at

-Not that you pay attention

-Ok  

-Maybe you do  

-Kinda  

-Pay attention  

-but it’s not your fault!!!!  

-You just  

-Can’t help but feel a little jealous

-You kiiiiiinda have a little thing for him

-Ok

-Maybe it’s a big thing  

-Maybe it’s a massive

-Gigantic

-Towering  

-Crush  

-But look at him!!!

-You simply couldn’t be blamed

-It was his fault  

-Yep

-That’s what you’re going with

-It was Jungkook

-And his tight t shirts

-His ripped jeans

-His dangly earrings

-His tattoos

-His big

-Stupid boots

-Ugh ok

-Focus  

-You have work to do

-The whole reason you began coming to Jungkook's cafe was so you -could find a consistent place to study for your exams

-You were in school to become a teacher :)  

-And teachers have to study very very hard  

-Educating the youth is no easy feat  

-Jungkook had asked what you were studying during the first week you arrived at his spooky house of baked goods

-“Oh I’m an education major”

-“Ahh so you’re getting an education about...education.” He concludes

-“I love it.”

-“So meta.”

-“Are they educating you on the disparities between impoverished children and wealthier children?”

-His wide eyes were brimming with genuine curiosity  

-You kind of got a kick out of how candid he was about such heavy conversation topics

-“Not as much as they should be but, I’m actually writing a paper on a similar topic right now...”

-This caused a brilliant grin to come over his face

-It was almost blinding really

-And it made your heartbeat all wonky  

-“Of course you are. You look smart like that...”

-He had backed away from your table then, seemingly satisfied

-Had you passed the vibe check?

-“I’ll leave you to your paper.” He nodded to your laptop but as he walked away, he pivoted back towards you on and the heel of his combat boot, “welcome to Blackheart Bakery by the way, let me know if I can get you anything.”

-Another brilliant smile is sent your way  

-“Thank you.” You had smiled back, sending a tiny wave his way

-Which in turn, made HIS heartbeat all wonky  

-You’re cute

-Like really cute

-And despite how often it may seem like his eyes are elsewhere

-They are ALWAYS on you

-Every chance he gets he is glancing your way

-Smirking to himself at how endearing you are

-Brow furrowed

-Lips pouted in concentration  

-Completely oblivious to his gaze

-He has to remind himself to look away  

-He doesn’t want to be a creep

-“Creepy men deserved to get kicked in the teeth...”

-He’s said this to you before when another patron had made you uncomfortable

-Jungkook kicked him out immediately  

-“If you don’t leave, I’ll have no choice but to kick you in the teeth. One, because I can’t compromise my personal philosophy and two because you’re making my favorite customer uncomfortable.”

-Oh look there goes your heartbeat again

-WONKY

-The guy leaves in an angry rush, flipping Jungkook off in the process

-Saying something about leaving a bad Yelp review  

-He doesn’t care tho

-He definitely doesn’t want to be a creep

-You’re just so  

-Pretty

-Ugh

-He rolls his eyes at himself behind the espresso bar

-The latte in front of him neglected  

-In need of a bit of foam

-“Focus Jeon, she’s just a chick...”

No wait

-“She’s just a woman. A woman who I respect, like I respect all women...”

-He’s been watching a lot of feminist theory on YouTube

-He likes staying educated  

-And also fuck the patriarchy

-The man waiting for his drink has arched a brow at this point, wondering if his barista has lost his mind

-“Uhhh medium...” he checks the cup for his awful hand writing, “ghostly toasted marshmallow latte!”

-“Thanks.” The guy mutters, throwing a judging look Jungkook's way  

-He gives him a lazy salute as the guy struts away with a briefcase in tow

-“Thaaanks.” Jungkook mocks him, his face scrunching up in annoyance  

-Stupid man

-With his stupid briefcase  

-As Jungkook is pulling out a batch of cream cheese frosting stuffed pumpkin muffins  

-Or as Jungkook calls them

-PUNK-in Muffins

-Movement at the counter catches his eye

-is that

-”oh shit...” He grunts, hastily wiping his hands on his apron and rushing over to the counter

-normally he would meander

-stroll

-or even slump to greet any new guests at this hour

-and by this hour

-he means 45 minutes before closing

-Jungkook’s bakery is open til midnight on weeknights

-9pm on Sundays

-and 3am on Saturdays (for the culture of course, gotta keep it spooky)

-tonight happens to be a Friday night and the person awaiting his assistance is

-you

-”You’re still here?” He gawks, the black polish on his nails glimmering as he punches in a few keys on the register

-You offer him a tired and slightly amused smile, “No. Y/N died around 4:30, you’re speaking to her ghost. Please leave your message after the tone.”

-Jungkook cracks a smile, his palms resting on flat on the counter, “Do ghosts check their voicemails?”

-“Oh of course not but, I will be checking yours because you have access to caffeine.”

-Jungkook laughs

-no...he giggles  

-and it’s fucking cute

-but you digress

-“I feel like I should cut you off...this is your 4th latte; I’m pretty sure you’re 80% caffeine at this point...”

-“Noooo, don’t do that.” You whine slumping against the counter, “I just need to finish this one page...”

-He quirks a brow as he scribbles something on your cup, unimpressed with your statement, “You said that three hours ago. I’ll make you another one but I’m not putting an extra shot in.”

-Your face turns up in protest but he click his tongue against his teeth , shaking a manicured finger at you

-“Ah ah- nope. I don’t want to hear it. You either take that or I’m making you a hot chocolate and shutting the buildings power off.”

-With a dramatic sigh, you concede

-“Ugh fine. Here-” You go to hand him your debit card but he shakes his head

-“Put that away.”

-You want to protest but given the fact that he’s made the rules thus far during this interaction, you doubt you’d be able to stop him.

-A smile appears on your face then, appreciative of his generosity

-“Thank you.”

-He merely grins, waving you off before rolling up the sleeves of his black Blink 182 shirt

-as soon as his tattoos are out

-all the moisture leaves your mouth

-you try your hardest not to stare at him

-expertly, he eases the espresso shots into the milk, tongue poking between his lips in concentration

-and you

-being sleep-deprived

-and a little loopy

-decide to  

-flirt????????

-if you could even call it that

-which you could but you shouldn’t

-“For the record, when I finally dig my way out of this of mountain of death I’m stuck in, I will definitely take you up on that hot chocolate...”

-Jungkook’s brow quirks at the tone of your voice, his hands suddenly itching with nerves

-was that

-was that flirty?

-should he flirt back?

-“My hot chocolate is legendary. You won’t be disappointed.” His lips display a small grin as he places the lid atop your finished latte, “Also mountain of death is a great name and I WILL be stealing it.”

-You giggle

-again

-“and I WILL be suing you for copyright.”

-He laughs now, wiping up the bit of milk he spilled

-the sinewy muscles in his forearm tensing and untensing

“Good luck getting me to show up to court.”

-and that’s kinda how it was between you and Jungkook

-for like six months

-it was a little bit flirty but never anything to push either over you over the edge.

-and speaking of being on edge

-recently, you had gone from vacationing in your timeshare on the edge

-to signing a 35 year mortgage contract  

-4 bedrooms

-2.5 bathrooms

-of pure

-unrelenting

-stress

-you could feel it in the middle of your back

-shoving itself up between your shoulder blades

-your body seemed to ache with it

-the worst part being

-it was Halloween

-You should be out with your friends, having fun

-wearing itchy costumes and drinking sugary drinks

-but instead, your headed towards the bakery to work

-Jungkook was behind the counter, smiling happily at a family dressed like the cast of scooby doo

-from what you could see he was wearing a skeleton onesie

-his jet black hair tousled perfectly above his head

-he looked adorable

-(and hot)

-He notices you instantly, his face turning up in surprise

-you offer up a small wave and head over to your table

-you know he’s going to say something about you being there but

-you don’t really have much of a choice

-this work has to be done

-it takes him a second to spot you but when he does

-he seems to perk up

-his smile brightening as he looks back towards his customer

-as you’re setting everything up, you feel a presence (not the spooky kind) at the end of your table

-it’s Jungkook and he has your regular order in one hand, along with something wrapped in skeleton-patterned parchment paper

-“I know, I know.” You acknowledge before he’s even able to chide you for being here

-He smirks “What are you doing studying on the holiest day of the year??”

-You giggle

-“The holiest day of the year huh?”

-“Of course. Halloween is the one night a year that the homies can dress like total -sluts and no one can say anything about it.”

-This makes you giggle again

-“And you went with slutty skeleton huh? I love it- it’s like as naked as you can possibly get.”

-He chuckles, gesturing to his costume

-His floppy black hair getting in his face

-“Damn right baby.”

-The way he grins tells you the pet name is a joke

-But the deepening of his voice gets to you anyway

-“Thank you for this. I promise I’ll get out of your hair early tonight.”

-“The only thing I’m worried about getting out of my hair is this white spray paint. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

-He’s put a streak of white spray paint in his raven locks

-Why? You’re not certain

-Does it look good on him, like everything else does?

-Absolutely

-Its been a few hours since your night of studying began

-Jungkook’s dropped off two free lattes since you’ve arrived  

-As well as a slice of his ‘I write cinnamon not tragedies’ bread

-Which was equally hilarious and delicious

-You caught him glancing over at your table a few times but you didn’t think anything of it

-He’s probably just checking to make sure that no one needs your table

-His bakery is packed most nights but Halloween is a special night at Blackheart Bakery

-He has a trick or treat counter set up with free (homemade) candy

-A photo op complete with a fake haunted house backdrop

-A Halloween playlist

-And a bunch of discounts on his signature lattes and food

-you watch him amongst the chaos

-He is completely unfazed

-He seems elated at the amount of customers he has

-he grins and laughs at something a man dressed like Thor says at his counter

-he seems entirely in his element

-you realize that the denial tactics you’ve been trying out haven’t been working

-because this floppy haired, tattooed, slutty skeleton/baker kind of has a hold on your heart

-you’ve been friends for a long time now

-he always makes sure you’re taken care of

-he always asks if you’re ok

-he always gives you this little grin

-it feels like a secret sometimes

-but maybe it’s been his way of letting you know where he stands

-he’s been bringing you lattes and pastries for months now

-he never charges you full-price

-he always reminds you not to work too hard

-he

-fuck

-he likes you doesn’t he?

-you look back over at the counter to see him bending over and handing a skeleton cookie to a little girl dressed like Captain Marvel

-he laughs at something she says

-his eyes focused entirely on her and whatever she seems to be proclaiming to him  

-your heart goes wonky again

-alright

-enough is enough

-you’re doing this  

-Jungkook’s done so much of the work thus far

-it’s time for you to seal the deal

-and if he rejects you, well…

-you can just crawl into a hole and never come out again

-easy peasy

-You can feel his eyes on you as you get up to take your place in line

-luckily there isn’t anyone else behind you

-rejection with an audience would certainly be worse

-Jungkook has his witty comment ready for you as you approach the register

-“I know for a fact you haven’t finished your third latte and I’m not making you another one until-“

-“I’m not here for another latte.” You laugh, trying to ignore the thrashing of your heartbeat

-“No? Well, are you finally going to try my Welcome to the Blackened Chicken Parade Burger then? I’ve been asking you for like three weeks…”

-god he’s fucking cute

-“I’m here to ask you out.”

-Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop

-“You’re here to…”

-He repeats the first part of your response as his he didn’t hear you

-his black fingernails anxiously tapping against the countertop

-“I’m here to ask you out- on a date.”

-Jungkooks face seems to go through various stages of confusion before a shy smirk presents itself on his pretty mouth

-“Me? You’re asking me-“ He places a hand on his chest, “-out on a date?”

-“Yes!” You laugh, slapping the counter a bit too hard, your nerves getting the best of you, “Are you down?”

-He shakes his head but his answer contradicts his movements

-“So down, beyond down. There is no one on Earth who is more DOWN than I am. Yes. My answer is yes. 50000% yes.”

-you can’t help the smile on your lips

-“great. So are you free next Friday then?”

-He grins with his teeth this time, nodding emphatically  

-“Consider the shop closed.”

-and so it was

-you returned to your table moments later  

-feeling on top of the world

-you did it

-you asked Jungkook out

-and he said yes

-and now you

-NOW YOU HAVE A DATE WITH JUNGKOOK

-LOOK AT YOU GO

-TAKING CHARGE

-you try your best to engage with your studies but with Jungkook on your mind

-its really hard

-roughly two hours later, things at the bakery have finally started to slow down

-“Hey uh- Y/N?”

-Jungkook's voice that pulls you out of your studying trance

-he’s standing at the entrance of his back room, waving you over with his hand

-and who are you to deny him?

-you make your way over there, annoyed at the instant increase in your heartrate

-he stands awkwardly to the side and gestures to the boxes on the metal rack

-“I just remembered that I’ve never given you a tour of the place. I give all my regulars a tour of the stockroom and my office and uh-”

-he cuts himself off and clumsily cups your cheek

-he pulls you into a kiss

-a really good kiss

-his lips are so warm

-he smells like cinnamon

-you could literally die happy

-The ridiculous nature of his first attempt to kiss you, makes you giggle into his mouth

-you feel him smile, his hands smushing your cheeks together as he pulls away

-“Ok I lied. There is no tour. I’ve just been watching you focus on your computer for the last two hours and you’re just really fucking cute and-”

-this time, it’s you who cuts him off

-“You better give me an actual tour next time. How else am I going to steal your secret recipes?”

-he scoffs in mock offense

-“Ah ha! So that’s the only reason you asked me out huh? Should I be calling you Plankton instead of Y/N? Ew no wait- that would make me Mr. Krabs and he’s a dirty capitalist...”

-You laugh, “Oooh good point. Guess you’ll just have to be Karen, my computer wife.”

-This makes him laugh now and the sound warms your soul

-“I could live with that- I like your last name better anyways.”

-with another kiss, your adventure with the emo baker of your dreams begins

-It may have been Halloween but it sure felt like Christmas to you

[ohheyitsokay]

just us

Pairing: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x (f) reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: discussion of not wanting children, brief mention of trauma (the accident), brief mentions of sex, generally sweet and cozy

Summary: Jack and you both grow into what you want (and don’t want?) for the future

Notes: Okay so this WILL NOT be everyone’s cup of tea - that’s fine. There’s enough breeding kink in this fandom for everyone else, I just wanted to explore... not wanting kids, definitively, and one way that journey could look. Obviously, this is an incredibly personal topic, and there’s no way this one snapshot could possibly be perfect, so please just keep that in mind!

>>

Years ago, you met Jack volunteering with low-income students after school. Your friend, who was running the program, roped you in, and you were glad to have other helpers.

He was surprisingly good with the kids. They loved his accent and his hat and the silly expressions he made. Still, in-between his ridiculous stories, he always pushed them to do their best and was persistent in pursuing their success. Unlike some of the other volunteers, he didn’t seem to have any agenda and his selflessness was contagious, and you told him so. The bus had just left, and you finally had the chance to talk to him- you couldn’t help but be honest.

He shrugged his broad shoulders, watching the kids wave through the windows, even down the road.

“I just want them to get their chance to succeed, ya know?”

You did. Gently, you reached up and squeezed his shoulder, and his brown eyes met yours for the first time.

“Thank you,” you said before leaving to go clean up. You hoped he could hear the sincerity in your voice.

The next time you volunteered at the same time, he stayed back to help you clean. He was silent at first, but then he began to talk to you, asking real questions and giving you real answers.

The friendship grew fast, one of the ones where you could feel in your bones how close you’d be. You moved from laughing with the kids as you gave him the tiniest portion of snack, to him driving you home sometimes.

And for the first few years, the two of you really were the best of friends. Lemonade and long drives together became game nights and movies with groups. You’d help him text when he got too flustered, he reminded you that all men were giant boys sometimes. He told you about his past, about the accident and wanting to heal from that, and what he was working on. You shared the skeletons in your closet, you fears and hopes and dreams. You became each other’s constant, as you grew, always cheering the other one on and sharing just the right words at the right time.

Then, after a long, terrible day, he drove over to your house with pure, kind-hearted intentions and ended up kissing you.

-

“The rest, as they say, is history,” you finished.

Jack’s boss was grinning, along with his wife.

“How adorable!” she cooed, squeezing her husband’s hand.

You and Jack had been together for years now, and recently moved to a small town so he could be closer to his mama. This branch of the statesman was a lot more casual, so you were over at their house with some other couples, barbequing in the backyard. In many ways, you loved the little southern community but it was times like these that you felt like you were pulling teeth.

Jack was so high-profile, and bless his heart, he loved to show you off. It was sweet that his boss let him off early sometimes and the local florist knew your date night, but honestly, people in this town were so invested in your relationship it gave you anxiety. Everyone wanted to hear your story, to be in the know, worst of all: ask about it. So it was unpleasant, but not a surprise when the lady continued, asking, “So how many kids are the two of you going to have?”

Her eyes glimmered with expectation, completely unaware at how you were fighting not to grimace at her intrusion.

Jack looked at you, his hand instinctively finding yours. His thumb rubbed your skin softly, as if he was trying to press his support into you. It worked, in it’s own way, and you collected yourself, smiling because you knew she meant well, and because you had practiced.

When you were younger, if and when it came up, you hadn’t been attracted to the idea of children like some others were. You had thought, or maybe trained yourself to say, maybe someday, but not right now. Because for most people, that was enough. You knew logically, that some did change their minds or grow into it. Sometimes you had hoped that would be you.

Now, you didn’t even offer that, just making a joke and guiding the conversation in a different direction. You played your part well, continuing to chat as you ate, being as delightful and adorable as you always were.

Jack knew, of course he did. After that very first night, when he had kissed you, you had been honest with him. motherhood was not your purpose, passion, or dream. He loved you then, and he loved you now, you reminded yourself. He had loved you through the time you’d talked about it again, when he told you that you were his soulmate. Still, before, you had always left it on the table. Maybe someday, in the future.

He watched you closely, watched your eyes when you laughed at the questions, felt you hand in his when you were in the spotlight.

Jack adored you with every fiber of his being. He loved waking up with you in his arms, and falling asleep to the rhythm of your heart. He liked the way your eyes met his and spoke volumes, and how you knew what he was going to say and let him say it anyway. Sometimes he thought he would stop time itself if it would keep you from being hurt.

So now, he shifted closer and closer to you, invading your space until he could share his warmth with you. Your hands left each others so he could wrap his arm around you, and he tried his best to use himself to make a little safe haven for you. He would do anything to create a bubble so you could breathe.

Your eyes found his, and you leaned into his warmth. No words were offered but he knew he had done a good job when he could feel some tension slide off your shoulders.

Still, over the next few days, the conversation haunted you. It felt like a pin, pricking your mind and heart in quiet moments. You ignored it, what else could you do? It was a familiar feeling, and you knew sooner or later, it would go away. After all this time, hadn’t you made your peace with it?

It was almost completely gone, one night, as you lay with Jack, skin to skin under the sheets. He’d be silent for awhile, in what you could only assume was one of his rare, post-sex dazes. He murmured again and again how much he loved you before it faded off and he had settled for holding you close.

“Sweetheart?” he said suddenly, pulling your attention back to him.

“Yeah, Jack?”

“One of our friends from home is pregnant, I forgot to tell you she called yesterday.”

You felt liked the world was spinning. Why was be bring this up right now?

Somewhere far away, you heard yourself make a happy noise and say that was exciting for them.

Your lover’s warm arm pulled you closer, back onto his chest.

“That’s gonna be one helluva cute baby,” he added. You agreed, but had no idea what to do or say.

Was he trying to tell you he was thinking about kids? About babies?! You were full on panicking now.

Had this, plus the questions from before finally pushed him to reconsider? 

“I’ve… darlin’, I’ve been thinking a lot about kids lately,” he whispered into your hair. There was something about his tone you didn’t recognize. You were tense, unable to move away, respond, be normal at all. Of course, he noticed.

Jack half sat up, moving you so he could face you, his arms still holding onto you with purpose.

“Wait- shoot, dang it, I should’ve said that differently,” his eyes were boring into yours. The whole time you’d known him, you hadn’t been able to look away from him when he was baring his heart for you like this. This was Jack. He has never, would never hurt you. You trusted him with your whole life.

Several deep breathes and a quick kiss allowed your heart to calm, and you eyes told him it was okay for him to go on.

“I have been, sweetheart, but not like… that, I – well, I,” he seemed to be struggling, the tiny lines between his eyebrows deepening. You waited, hands finding his skin and mimicking the comforting movements he always did on you. All the while you were reminding yourself that listening to him would always be better than interrupting or assuming.

“I just wanted to tell you, the longer we’re together, how much I like it,” he said, finally, words rushing out of him, “How the more I think about it, how much I sort of want it to just stay like that.”

Your heart was racing now for a whole new reason.

“When I think about other people’s kids, they’re cute but… I don’t need one,” he said, and you noticed the more he talked, the more he relaxed, too. “You could be a fantastic mother, I know you could, if you ever want that,” he added, and you smiled, shaking your head just slightly.

“I guess I’m just selfish, love,” he finally seemed to conclude, having pushed and been fully vulnerable with you. He sank down next to you again, saying, “I want you all to myself. I want to take you on adventures and change the world with you and just have you be all mine, all the time.”

You still couldn’t speak. The world wasn’t spinning anymore but it might as well have been upside down. All your fears - that he was hoping you’d just change your mind, that you were holding him back – were wrong. On his own terms, in his own way, and in his own heart Jack Daniels had flipped to the same page as you.

Never in your life had you expected this, even considered this a possible outcome. It was almost too good to be true.

You had to ask, just one more thing.

“Jack, what about…” you swallowed, clinging to him. “What about… before?” You didn’t need to explain. What about her, and his son? Before the accident? What about the time you’d met, and he was pouring into the futures of children?

Jack was still for one heartbeat, two, and three. Then his hand moved from your waist to touch your cheek, his large palm enveloping it. You hadn’t realized there was a tear until he brushed it away with his thumb. There was tenderness in his eyes as he held you.

“Just us,” he whispered, before kissing you, “that’s all I need.” His eyes were honest, and for the first time in your life, you felt fully seen. 

“Just us,” you said back, as vulnerable as he was.

The two of you held each other then, basking in the moment of pure, raw love. You allowed yourself to sink fully into the mattress, pressing together like you were just falling for each other for the first time. In some ways, you were. Everyone has a different story, and you two had just written another chapter in yours. Jack laughed then, a beautiful, free, almost giddy sound.

Relief had sunk into your bones, the two of you finding something in each other that you’d never had before. The feeling you’d had when you first met - the one that sunk into your bones - promising you two would be close, came into your mind. You considered it, realizing it was more than right, knowing you both before you even knew yourselves.

Jack kissed your hairline, still letting out small burst of quiet laughter. His voice was filled with joy as he asked, “Can we get a dog, though?” and you laughed too.

“Yeah,” you said, and he was kissing you, smile almost too big.

<<

taglist: 

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @0celestialbitch0

[theprologues]

Can someone explain why cowboy like me is about kar ? . Is just that I can’t see it very clearly , I haven’t read to much about it.

*Cracks knuckles* Like Taylor about to explain something haha. 

Okay, so “cowboy” is an American term. Taylor Swift started out in country music in Tennessee which makes her a cowboy. I’m sure you know that. She refers to herself as a cowboy when she sang “this cowboy’s running from himself” when she did Riptide by Vance Joy as a cover. She also sings “closest thing to Michelle Pfeiffer that you’ve ever seen” this is a classically Kaylor moment in Kaylore. Karlie looks like Michelle. 

LINK TO VIDEO

And the tennis court was covered up With some tent-like thing And you asked me to dance But I said, "Dancing is a dangerous game"

She’s always said Karlie is her favorite person to dance with as well. They are playing a dangerous game with their con. What makes me think it’s the wedding stunt is the con of the whole song and how she says the tennis court was covered in a tent- like thing. She’s not saying it’s a wedding but a tent over a court is normal for weddings. 

Reminiscent of the Wyoming wedding stunt part two. They were on a ranch in Wyoming. Also we believe Kaylor got engaged in Wyoming. So the Wyoming stunt sucked in more ways than one. It was like a cowboy themed party. We said this in real time. Kk is also technically conning the rich folks. When Taylor sings forever is the sweetest con. They are conning everyone into believing the stunt is real.

And the skeletons in both our closets 

(they both in the closet and jerk and the Sb2 plotted to mess up!!)

Plotted hard to f*ck this up And the old men that I've swindled Really did believe I was the one And the ladies lunching have their stories about When you passed through town But that was all before I locked it down 

(the Kaylor Locket, love locked down, I can elaborate more if you’d like)

Telling all the rich folks anything they want to hear like it could be love (mentally there is a question mark here for me like as if she’s saying this “could be love” if that’s what the rich men want to believe, they are selling this idea that its kk and jerk in love not kaylor. This is my most telling Karlie lyric. 

This was Karlie’s caption on a photo with her and jerk from the stunt. I can’t believe they are getting away with it right now 

Only if they pay for it

Kk is in a contract and getting paid for it. They better pay for what they are doing. Taylor knows she’s going to pay for it in more ways than one. She’s using her real love contrasted against the phoniness of the fake wedding stunt. 

I could’ve never imagined to get a song this good out of that whole thing. It’s so Kaylor it hurts. The song itself is hilarious she’s saying her and the love of her life are swindling old men. She’s getting away with it on her album and people still don’t see that. The song itself is a con.  

[aangs-surrounding-love]

My take on Aang’s trauma:

Alrighty everyone this is going to be a long one. I’ll do my best to only include the more important parts of Aang’s actions that I think reflect his trauma. Also, moments that I think reflect his trauma. Actually, I don’t really know if I can directly categorize this post but let’s just say this is very Aang-centric and somewhat of Aang-defense. Aang-protection? Feh-I’ll start.

In season 1 episode 1: The Boy In The Iceberg we see that Aang is briefly told that no one has seen an airbender in 100 years. We can see a tiny bit of shock but what happens next is that the topic is dissed and they move on. Aang doesn’t yet know what happened. But that small little face of shock and confusion always gets me.

Season 1 Episode 2: When Aang finds out he was stuck for 100 years, a war broke out, and his people were very likely killed, he looks on the bright side and looks to Katara saying, “I did get to meet you.”

When they find out he’s the avatar everyone is like, no wayyyy. He still offers himself up to protect the tribe.

Why didn’t he tell them? “Because I never wanted to be” is 100% a valid answer. He was scared. He thought that they’d push him away as his friends did at the temple. Or maybe send him away like the leaders wanted to do to him. (Although Sokka did banish Aang, it wasn’t because of his title and because he put the tribe at risk so it doesn’t exactly count)

Season 1 episode 3: The Southern Airtemple. “We’re home, buddy. We’re home.” Aang says to Appa. Something about this seems like a nostalgic moment. He left on bad terms and now he’s back seeing it 100 years later, hopeful.

He looks for all the old things that made him happy. Air ball, Gyatso’s statue, searching for people. (The little fruit pie flash-back)

He goes to the statue room and looks for answers. He meets Momo. However, when Aang and Sokka start chasing Momo I see Aang tearing up when he’s jumping down the cliffside. My take on this isn’t because he’s falling down at such a velocity that he starts crying, my take is that it’s because it’s his first chance to reveal that there’s hope that some of the Air Nation survived and that Aang isn’t alone.

Aang discovers Gyatso’s skeleton and goes into the Avatar State. His major hopes have been diminished.

He says to Momo, “You, me, and Appa, we’re that’s left of this place now. We have to stick together.” It’s so sad. They’re the only parts of the Air Nation that are alive. They don’t have anything left of the air nation and that’s why they need each other; they need to stay together.

At the closing of the episode, we see Aang and Momo flying away from the temple on Appa. Aang's face is so somber like he’s watching his happy memories diminish. Like the nostalgia being wiped away directly in front of him.

Season 1 Episode 5: The King of Omashu. This one is more of fine detail, but to me, it’s still very important and needs to be mentioned more. At the end of the episode, when Aang figures out it was Bumi, his old friend, you can see little tears welling in his eyelids. My understanding makes me think that Aang was tearing up because he sees someone who isn’t dead. The tears are of relief because to Aang, maybe not everyone is gone. His childhood isn’t over, Aang can still be a kid. Because the reason Gyatso was protecting Aang was that he wanted Aang to have a childhood. Although it was stripped away, this gave Aang another chance to have fun intentionally. Another sign that his childhood isn’t completely over.

Season 1 episodes 7-8: Winter Solstice Part 1: The Spirit World and Winter Solstice Part 2: Avatar Roku. In the first part, we meet a village. Aang tries to help them by saying, “I have to try” my legendary overthinking and analysis makes me believe that Aang truly wants to help these people already, but also that as the Avatar he wants to make up for the lost time he was stuck. He feels the burden he afflicted on the world.

His ability to relate to Hei Bai. Aang felt terrible about the woods and trees that were burnt down. It’s the empathy the made Hei Bai Aang’s friend. The compassion that Aang brings is truly amazing.

Part 2: Avatar Roku. Okay, so he wants to go alone because he doesn’t want Katara or Sokka to get hurt. My take on this is not only are they friends, but he also doesn’t want another one of his actions affecting the casualties of the war.

Season 1 Episode 12: The Storm. This episode is great. We get his backstory. We see why he ran away. We see what causes him to get stuck. And we get to see him upset. We see his guilt. “My people needed me, and I wasn’t there to help.” Followed by, “the WORLD needed me, and I wasn’t there to help.”

“How could they do that to me? They wanted to take away everything I knew and everyone I’ve ever loved!” This quote digs deep. Not only is Aang angry, but this takes a play on how he reacts to people and how he responds to people. He wanted to be a normal kid. (I’ll bring this back later)

Earlier in this episode, there’s this fisherman who was blaming him, so I’m in the cave Aang says, “the fisherman was right. I DID turn my back on the world.” He knows what he did was wrong and he saw the consequences. He ran away, and now that he faced the consequences, he actively wants to change and become better. He’s learning from his actions.

Season 1 episode 13: The Blue Spirt. Admiral Zhao says to Aang, “tell me, how does it feel to be the only airbender left? Do you miss your people?” Not only is this said in such a vile, evil way, we see Aang’s face which changes from being angry and upset with Adm. Zhao, we see that it changes to ashamed and guilt ridden. Actually, it kinda looks like Aang wanted to talk back to him, but he needed a moment. He needed that moment to take in what Zhao said.

Aang finds out that the Blue Spirit (the person wearing the mask) is Zuko. Aang was going to leave him there, to get caught by Admiral Zhao, but Aang instead takes him to safety. And may I mention that Aang made him a little leaf bed? Anyway, he stays with Zuko until he wakes up. Aang was talking about they could be friends and that one of his best friends was from the Fire Nation. I think not leaving Zuko behind shows both how Aang does his best to no longer leave people behind and to try to bring the best out of Zuko.

Season 1 episode 15: Bato of the Water Tribe. Aang takes the map to guide them to Hakoda for himself out of fear that Sokka and Katara would leave him. Though it was a bad decision, the thing is he didn’t think he could handle being alone. He was alone enough as it is. His people were gone and his friends (excluding Bumi) were gone or dead as well. So having to trek to the NWT alone would be a continuous reflection of his actions and would likely send him down on a more hateful path.

Season 1 Episode 16: The Deserter. Aang wants to learn the elements as fast as possible, even if it means doing it irregularly. He also is unsure whether he’ll ever get the chance to learn firebending again after he learns the other elements. So he starts to learn firebending from Jeong Jeong. He wants to make up for lost time which is another reason for this decision.

He hurts Katara and becomes afraid of handling fire and vows to be more careful with it in the future. (I will bring this up again later)

Season 1 Episode 17: The Northern Air temple. Aang sees that the northern Air temple became inhabited by people and they built pipes and other things that ruined the temple. They destroyed the temple and there wasn’t anything left that remained the same. When he saw the wrecking ball machine, he rightfully knocked it away for “destroying something sacred”. It was the last place that remained unaffected by modernization and industrialization then it was knocked over, right in front of him. So my take on this is a question within itself: if you loved something that was deeply close to you like a relic, something important, something that’s the only thing left of your family, got destroyed right in front of you, how would you feel? The answer would probably be pretty freaking upset.

Season 1 episode 19: The Siege of the North: part 1. Starting with part 1, the fire nation comes to the northern water tribe and the fight begins. Before the fight begins, Aang says, “I wasn’t there when the Fire Nation attacked my people. I’m going to make a difference this time.” He wants what’s best for the world, he’s going to stay. He isn’t going to run this time, he’s going to fight of the sake for the world, for the sake of the future. Still, the look on his face when he says that, it’s guilt plastered all over. The guilt is also shown with a determination to make his difference.

Aang flies out on Appa to try to prevent further damage by taking out a few ships. He returns around sunset, exhausted and somewhat defeated. He says, “I’m just one kid” then buries his face in between his legs. He’s right, he is one kid. The avatar, yes, a kid, yes. I have a feeling he’d be thinking about how massively overwhelmed his people were when the Fire Nation attacked. With the power of 500 suns, it would be disastrous. And with this, there are hundreds of ships in that fleet with hundreds more men, ready to fight.

Season 1 episode 20: The Siege of the North: Part 2. Aang returns to the spirit oasis and enters the avatar state saying, “No... It’s not over” he won’t give up on the tribe. He won’t let the Fire Nation win. Still, he isn’t running away, he chose to return to the Spirit Oasis to try to save the spirits.

Season 2 episode 1: The Avatar State. Aang’s told by General Fung that he could defeat the Fire Nation using the Avatar State. Gen. Fung manipulates Aang using Aang’s own guilt and faults to get him to try to train to turn the Avatar State on. Gen. Fung shows Aang the wounded to get him to join.

Initially, Aang doesn’t join. But he changes his mind upon further debate. During the training (well after a day of training) Katara and Aang have a long conversation about it. First, Katara tries to convince him to stop training to turn the Avatar State on but Aang refuses. Katara says, “I don’t understand.” Aang replied, “No, you don’t. Every day, more and more people die. I’m already 100 years late.” Aang’s own guilt is driving him to pursue helping everyone. Even though it wasn’t the right decision, he realizes that he needs to try everything he can to save the world.

Season 2 Episode 3: Return to Omashu. I already did my take away on Aang’s trauma for “The King of Omashu” but this will make my point stronger. Anyway, to the point. Aang goes to Bumi to learn earthbending. His old friend, the mad genius. When he arrives at Omashu, Katara, Sokka, and Aang see that Omashu was conquered by the Fire Nation. Despite Sokka trying to convince Aang to turn around, saying that there are other teachers, Aang shuts both of them down. He wants to rescue Bumi. Not only because he’s his best friend, but I think it’s the added reasons of impending guilt that he receives from leaving the Air Nation to fight on their own, and always wanting to protect his friends.

Season 2 episode 10: The Library. By goodness. Beginning of the episode. Aang is “making an orchestra”. My little headcanon is that all airbenders play an instrument and Aang chose the flute. Anyway, in this headcanon, the air nomads had a band that Aang loved to participate in. Just a little reminder he can’t be in a band surrounded by his people and wanted to make an orchestra on his own to feel happy like he would if he was around the Air Nomads.

Professor Zei calling Aang a relic. Just... terrible. That’s what he, his people, his culture surmounted to. Only a relic. An episode in time.

“We had no choice. Please. We’re desperate to protect the people we love.” This is what Aang says to Wan Shi Tong after the spirit’s anger about using the library to win a war. Aang is trying to protect the world and whoever he has left in the world. His people died. His friends before the war excluding Bumi are dead. Now all he has are his current friends, Appa, and Momo. That’s all he has left and he’s going to do anything to protect them.

Appa gets taken away. That’s it. They exit the sinking library. “Where’s Appa?” Aang asks Toph in confusion. As Toph shakes her head, humming, “mmm-mmm” Aang’s face looks so scared, so hurt. This is his best friend, his life partner to the death. His closest friend, even before the war. They have an inseparable bond and then Appa’s taken away from Aang. Aang doesn’t know if he’s alright, one of the three surviving members of the Air Nomads.

Season 2 Episode 11: The Desert. Aang is so hurt that he lashes out at Toph. His best friend and life partner were stripped from him. I could feel the pain and anger in his voice.

“I’m going to find Appa.” Aang flies away to search on his glider. Again, one of the last surviving members of the Air Nomads is gone. I will elaborate in others.

“APPA!” He calls out. He begins to tear up but sucks it down. “No... No!!!” He creates the gush of air at the ground, making the sand rise up. The complete anger is apparent.

“I’m sorry, OK? it’s a desert cloud. I did all I could.” Aang is left angry and lashes out at everyone. Aang blames Toph at first but it goes deeper than that. If Aang hadn’t gone inside, Appa could’ve been with him. Everyone could’ve gotten out of the desert.

Momo gets carried by a Buzzard-wasp. “I’m not losing anyone else out here.” If Momo was taken away that makes Aang the only one left. He’d be completely alone. And he would only have himself to blame. If he hadn’t run away... if he hadn’t gone inside the library... if he hadn’t chased and knocked the buzzard wasp down. But luckily, Aang gets Momo back.

Aang finds out that the sand benders he encountered were the ones who stole Appa. He acts appropriately and questions them. He wrecks a sand sailer. He wants his bison back. He needs Appa back.

“You muzzled Appa?!” He enters the avatar state in rage. Appa was much more than a pet. Appa is Aang’s best friend. His life partner. His link to his people. Hearing that Appa was treated like an uncontrollable, rabid animal isn’t alright with him. His people were already killed. So hearing that Appa could be in the same situation or worse hurts.

“I traded him with some merchants.” Trading him. Like property. Appa is living, breathing, he isn’t property. Then Appa was set to be sold. Sold.

Season 2, Episode 12: The Serpents Pass. Aang is trying to remain emotionless after Appa was taken away. He doesn’t want to grieve. He doesn’t want to feel. He wants the war to end and be done. He wants Appa back of course, but I think Aang feels that his emotions are going to prevent progress. So when Suki mentions how Appa wasn’t there, Aang was the first to look away. It hurts him immensely.

“Are you doing okay?” Suki asks Aang. At first, Aang looks to Suki and then to Katara, Sokka, and Toph. The view switches back to Aang where he says harshly, “I’m doing fine. Would everybody stop worrying about me?” Aang doesn’t want to be reminded further that -in his mind- that he failed.

“And now it’s like you don’t care about him at all,” Katara states. Katara continues about how worried she is for Aang and offers him a hug. He steadily rejects, “thanks for your concern, Katara.” He walks away. He is so hurt that he doesn’t want to feel. He doesn’t want to be human.

“But you’ve made me feel hopeful again.” It doesn’t mean he’ll stop himself from blaming himself, but it means Aang will return to being hopeful and optimistic.

Season 2 episode 13: The Drill. It’s towards the end where Aang gives the final blow, it’s not really about the moment but the music. Aang is determined to save the world. Even though he’s going through in an incredibly tough time, he’s not going to give up and he’s going to save Ba Sing Se. The music displays this perfectly also while the French Horns add Aang’s musical theme in the background.

Season two, episode 15. The tales of Ba Sing Se. Aang creates a Zoo after seeing all the caged up animals. I think that Aang did this because it reminded Aang what predicament Appa could be in. All chained up. Of course, above anything else, Aang goes to the Zoo in the first place to look for Appa. But I think Aang wanted to release the animals into a better space because Aang wanted to help them, knowing at least Appa would want a sense of freedom. Also because Aang could see that the animals were unhappy.

Season 2 episode 16: Appa’s Lost Days. Sorry but Aang sleeps with the bison whistle right next to him. Meaning, the first thing he wakes up to is the whistle. So right away, Aang is reminded that he needs to get Appa back no matter what.

Season 2 Episode 17: Lake Logoai. Weakly, Jet says, “I’m sorry, Aang.” Aang replies, “Don’t be.” Aang is already worried. But after it's inferred that Aang was going to die by Toph’s, “He’s lying,” is another reminder to Aang that having relations to other people puts them in danger. And that Aang might think that he is another cause for Jet’s death. It’s a big rolel, accounting for every death and injury at Aang’s stake.

Reuniting was Appa, finally. The tears, the relief. Appa will forever be his best friend. To death. A weight was definitely released from his chest.

Season 2 episode 18: The Earth King. Aang wants to tell the Earth King the truth. With Appa back, it’s hoped that things could turn out well for Aang. And a chance the war could end sooner. For the fatalities to stop.

Season 2 episode 19: The guru. “What do you blame yourself for?” Aang responds, “I ran away. I hurt all those people.” He holds himself accountable that he wasn’t there. That he was the cause of injury. Even though he forgave himself doesn’t mean he thinks about it. That’s the thing about guilt. It reoccurs no matter if you try to bury it. Or even forgive yourself, it still shows up.

“Lay all your grief out in front of you.” Aang pictures the whole Air Nation with Gyatso in the front. He’s trying to save the word to not leave their names, their culture in vain. He lost everyone.

Season 2 episode 20: the Crossroads of Destiny. He had to let her go. There were too many people against him. He had no other choice than to let go and enter the avatar state. He had to give up another part of himself to be what the world needed. He needed to save Katara, not letting any others fall to his fault.

Season 3 Episode 1: The Awakening. “Everyone thinks you’re dead. Isn’t that great?!” To Aang, it isn’t. In fact, that’s probably the worst thing Sokka could’ve said. To Aang, the world thinks he failed... again. At first, he vanished for 100 years, thought dead. Then he returned to become dead again. Now, the Fire Nation has practically won because he wasn’t able to keep Ba Sing Se afloat.

Aang wants to intervene even though he’s barely able to walk. He wants to handle it himself. He’s holding himself accountable. Maybe even thinking, it’s the least I can do if I’ve already failed to the world twice. He keeps trying to help, having Sokka hold him back.

“I don’t want you or anyone else risking your lives for my mistakes.” This means Aang really blames himself for everyone. Holding everything on his shoulders. Thinking, “it’s all my fault.”

Aang does the thing he knows how to, he flies away on his glider. Hurt and bombarded with a storm. When he’s found by his friends, he finds his glider which we knew was very important to him. Air Nomads weren’t very material, but to a person with a smidge of their culture left, it would’ve meant much more. So, seeing it in shambles and them actively choosing to burn it is heartbreaking.

Season 3 episode 2: The Headband. The fact that the children of the Fire Nation and everyone who was taught after the war started thought the Air Nomads had a military, forcing the Fire Nation to attack them. It’s screwy. It was wrong, but knowing that his culture was thought of as evil and bloodthirsty had to have been off-putting. I mean, the Air Nomads were pacifist!

Aang was stripped of his childhood, so going to a school gave him a new chance without the burden of being the avatar. For example, earlier I mentioned Aang was excluded from playing with the air-scooter, but in the Fire Nation school, Aang as Kuzon was invited to play Hide and Explode. A chance to have fun without his responsibility to defeat the Fire Lord. A chance to be a normal kid.

“You taught them to be free” Aang did his best to help the kids. It wasn’t defeating the Fire Lord but it gave them control. A mind. They were brainwashed by the school and their country! So achieving a sense of freedom by self expression is something more than I can display in words.

Season 3 Episode 9: Nightmares and Daydreams. Although it’s a fun episode, Aang is in his last moments to train before the invasion. He has to be ready. He’s afraid that he’ll let the world down a third time. So, he creates false scenarios and plays them out to prepare. In this process, he gets really sleep deprived because of his stress. He’s rightfully worried. The state of the world continues to burden him.

Season 3 episode 10: The Day Of Black Sun, Part 1: The Invasion. Aang comes to Sokka’s side when Sokka begins to worry about his moment of truth. Aang says, “I already failed to world once at Ba Sing Se. I won’t let myself fail again.” Again, it’s all up to him. He needs to save the world, he needs to redeem himself.

Season 3 episode 11: The Day Of Black Sun, Part 2: The Eclipse. Aang finds that it was all a trap. He failed again. On Appa as the youngest of the group loads on Appa, Aang is crying. He told himself that he wouldn’t fail. That he needed to win. He needed this victory to find out that his plan was ruined.

Season 3 Episode 12: The Western Air Temple. Aang accepts Zuko into the group. He does this not only because he needs a teacher but realizes that in his past attempt to learn Firebending, he hurt Katara. And that Jeong Jeong wasn’t the right master, but knowing that Zuko changed made Aang accept Zuko into the group and teach him.

Season 3 Episode 13: The Firebending Masters. Earlier, I mentioned that Aang vowed to be more careful with Fire after burning Katara. Showing why his flame was timid and weak. He was afraid for it to become out of control and hurt someone.

Season 3, episode 16: The Southern Raiders. “You’re feeling unbelievable pain and rage.” He’s empathizing with Katara. We can’t forget that Aang is a survivor of genocide. He’s been through so much and wants to help Katara make the right decision. Not making it for her, but guiding her through the decision that would make her satisfied with herself and Yon Rha’s outcome. One she could live with. He’s using his own experience to help her.

Season 3, Episode 18, Sozin’s Comet, Part 1: The Phoenix King. Aang wants to find an alternate solution rather than kill Firelord Ozai. He wants to stick to his principles. The ones that have been with him since forever. It’s not an easy decision. Maybe not only because of honoring the monks and their teaching but because the war had already created enough bloodshed.

Everyone is quick to assume Aang ran away. Although Aang is called to the Lion Turtles back. I think it was mostly unknowingly because he was like half asleep.

Season 3, Episode 19, Sozin’s Comet, Part 2: Old Masters. Aang looks to the past Avatars for their guidance. They’re the ones who might give him an alternate solution. In my opinion, they were all like, make whatever choice is right for you and the world. Don’t forget the world. Ultimately, to Aang, there were no other options, leaving him with the only option but to take Ozai’s life.

He meets the great look turtle. Aang respectfully asks him for an answer or an option. Once again, Aang was given the knowledge that he could take away whatever he received from the wisdom.

Season 3, Episode 20: Sozin’s Comet: Part 3: Into The Inferno. Ozai degrades Aang. Says, “you’re weak. Just like the rest of your people. They did not deserve to exist in this world, in my world! Prepare to join them.” So Aang has been told he’s weak and he is in no way weak. I will elaborate later.

Season 3, Episode 21: Sozin’s Comet, Part 4: Avatar Aang. Aang unblocks the avatar state and pins Ozai down. Just as Aang was going to kill him, he stops. He stops himself from going against his principles. Ozai continues to degrade him. “You are still weak.” Aang directs Ozai’s fire blast away using the Lion Turtle’s wisdom, Aang pins Ozai down and energy bends. With this, Aang discovers this non-fatal solution by giving Ozai justice and taking his bending away. Ozai can no longer intimidate and oppress anyone anymore.

“Please the real hero is the avatar.” That’s it. Aang is the hero. Of course, he had his friends to help him, but every single one of Aang’s mistakes and choices led to this. Led to the world being saved. So, for the first time in a while, Aang can come out of hiding, proud to be in this Air Nomad robes without concealing his identity.

I think I’m exaggerating about the tiniest details, but then again, I’m putting myself in Aang’s shoes, and that’s how I’d feel and how I interpret Aang’s actions/reactions. Also, I know I missed a few points, but I tried.

Big takeaways:

When Aang is told his people have been wiped out AND that he’s been gone for 100 years, for him, it has only been a few days for him. He left and a day later he wakes up and it’s been 100 years. That’s incredibly off-putting and scary. One day and his whole world shifted.

Aang was given very VERY little time to grieve as he had to save the world and learn the elements right away. When we do see it, his grief, he tries to let it all out at once rather than have it seep out little by little.

Aang is 12! He is a child and he saved the world. He has real emotions and was confused from time to time. He was a little immature at first but developed immensely.

Aang makes mistakes. But most importantly is that he learns from them and uses them to decide what's best for him and how to help others.

He looked for the light in dark situations.

Aang is the beacon of hope but even he was unhopeful and detached. He went to nightmares and back despite the worst.

Despite Ozai’s bashing and false claims, Aang is not weak and never has been. Aang went through the worst. He lost his family, his friends, and at one point, his best friend. He died. He was given an almost impossible task. Yet, he completed this task. He saved the world. Yes, he made mistakes but those mistakes shaped Aang into who he became. And how he was able to save the world. And Ozai was incredibly wrong. Aang defeated him and found his alternative. It wasn’t weak. It was strength. As Katara said in The Southern Raiders, “I don’t know if I was too weak to do it or if it’s because I’m strong enough not to.” In Aang’s case, he found his alternative that honored his teachings, his principles, his beliefs all while doing what was best for the world. That isn’t weak. It’s strong. Adding on, to come back from death isn’t weak. To return to action after running away isn’t weak. To face danger? To help others? To fight on the losing side for what is right? No, it’s not weak at all.

The music is fantastic and I think it reflects Aang amazingly. This doesn’t really fit into what I was talking about but the music fits the show.

Aang deserves so much love. I'll say it again, he's been through so much. Much more than what I could handle or almost anyone else. He is a traumatized child but even through the rough patches became an inspiration. To me, I think he’s sometimes overlooked and pushed aside so this is just some of my headcanons and takeaways.

Another thing, I’m not blaming Aang for anything. When I mention “it was his fault” I mean by he was blaming himself. The Air Nation’s genocide is not his fault. I mean that he blames himself for not helping or staying, for running away. 

Lastly, I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of their characters. They belong to their rightful creators and writers. Also, this is my analysis and a few of my takes on Aang’s trauma. I'm not trying to project my feelings on anyone. I'm just saying what I think.

If you made it this far thanks for reading my post!