#IT'S BEEN SO FUCKING LONG SINCE I DREW ANY SELF SHIP

[solisaureus]

What was it about Will and Nico that drew you to them, individually and/or as a ship?

nico has always been my favorite character!!! well technically that's not true it was annabeth until battle of the labyrinth (and i still love her very very much) -- i read the original series as each book was coming out so when titans curse came out in 2007 i honestly thought nico was so annoying LMAO and i thought bianca was going to be the new addition to the cast. so when she died i was totally shocked and i didnt know how to feel about nico until battle of the labyrinth came out. and then he had that dark and edgy character arc, and my dark and edgy emo 14 year old self was like "ok this kid rules actually" and hes been my fave ever since. how long has it been. (checks watch) ive been stanning nico di angelo for 15 years.

i have always loved nico because i've always related to him -- i have a lot of the same problems that nico has (catholic repression, internalized homophobia, trauma, mental illnesses, feeling like you dont belong, i could go on) and seeing him fight so hard to survive just for the chance to see the day when things might get better...it was really inspiring to me. it sounds corny but this character helped me get through some really difficult times in my life. the way that nico strove so hard to survive in heroes of olympus when he basically had nothing he wanted to live for really gave me strength to keep going too.

And thats part of why solangelo immediately appealed to me! Nico di Angelo finally finding love and laughing and allowing himself to be close to someone after i watched him endure ceaseless torment since 2007 was so gratifying. ever since their initial interaction in blood of olympus i have felt like will was so right for nico -- he was never afraid of him, he treated him the same as everyone else, he went out of his way to make nico feel wanted and refused to let nico fall back on his old self-destructive habits. and i thought it was really fitting that nico's love interest would be someone new, someone unentangled with nico's twisted past, someone he could look to the future with and heal with.

so i started liking will because he was nico's love interest, but once trials of apollo came out I got really invested in will as his own character too, and this feeling has only strengthened with the sun and the star's release. I have actually been waiting for an Apollo demigod to be a main character since I was like 12, because I've always identified with Apollo (I've had a lifelong special interest in Greek mythology lol). And Will was exactly who I was waiting for -- i love how gentle he is, i love that he's a healer, i love his relationship with Apollo, I love how much of a dork loser he is, i love how much he cares for people, and i love his dynamic with nico so much. i ended up writing my fic Solace because I couldnt stop thinking about how will was there in the background the entire time, he lost his siblings, he pined for nico, he was forced into leadership roles when he wasn't ready. and after reading tsats i LOVE how much he is filled with self-doubt and anxiety and how he loves nico so much and wants to support him and make him feel safe and loved in the ways that nico needs. he is so so so fucking good and i adore him and he is truly unlike any other character in this series.

i love nico, i love will, i love solangelo, i love how they contrast each other and yet are the same in so many ways, i love how they overcome realistic relationship obstacles to be together because after all theyve both been through they deserve to feel secure and at peace with someone they love, who they know loves them back.

[olderthannetfic]

Hello, I’m a very anxiouse proshipper and I’m looking for guidence I guess. For context in 2016, I was a part of the undertale fandom, and the popular problematic ships at the time where frans and fontcest. When drawing fontcest, I got a horiffic message in my inbox, going into detaile about ilr animal abuse related to some fontcest art I drew, and I’ve been turned off to being openly proship since. Throught the years I’ve been feeling very fucked up about calling myself proship, or making anything problematic. At one point I drew vrabbit (fnaf), and HCed him as a pedo cuz that’s the most obviouse vibes he gave off. I never drew him doing anything pedophilic, though I did draw him around his own (killed and robotociced) kids, and got a callout post made on my (that has now since been half deleted, I say half because it was initially a post made under a keep reading, and that og post is gone, but reblogs of the post remain). Recently Encanto came out, and the new ship there was an uncle and neice ship of bruno and mirabel, so of course I drew some art about it, but was scared to post it. And when I finally did, some people got upset at me, understandably so, but instead of ppl just blocking me and leaving, they would confront me directly, saying my art was now tainted, or that they hated me for “normalizing their abuse” (i’ve been abused too, I think, I don’t know if it counts as “real abuse” anymore because it was just sexual assult, and that feels like it’s the bottom of the barrel in comparason to someone being raped on the daily). But it sucks, because I’ve always been into this stuff, I don’t know why, I don’t know if I’m coping, I don’t know if something’s severely wronge with me, I asked my therapist once and they said so long as it’s art, it shouldn’t matter and it’s fine, but I feel like a shitty human being on a near constant basis when I start thinking about it. I’ve remade my blog like 2 times already, I’m wondering if I should do it again, this time just be more clear that I’m proship, or if I should just shut the hell up, because I don’t want more people coming to me about irl animal death. Like I don’t even take these ships all that seriously, I’m just some ace guy putting my kinks onto characters, I don’t care that characters are naked cuz a body that doesn’t arouse me on it’s own, and I want to be able to hc characters as something horrible ontop of how horrible they already are, like vrabbit was litterally murdering children, who’s to say he’s not some repressed pedo trying to counteract that shit with child murder instead? Idk, I don’t know if any of this was consistent, I just want to know if I should even be worrying about this shit or not, if I should start over again, or if I should just give up and forget the ritual of making art and posting it online in the hopes that someone sees it and thinks “ah, I vibe with that”. I’m just, tiered, man. Sorry to come to you with all this shit.

--

Nonnie, I think you need to talk to your therapist again.

Humans have all kinds of wacky fantasies. Nothing especially bad ever happened to me, and I was looking at snuff stories on the internet as a 13-year-old. Nothing you're into is unusual, and the way you're engaging with it sounds pretty mild and no big deal.

If you feel awful on a daily basis, that's about anxiety or self esteem or depression, not any realistic reaction to your art. Your therapist needs to hear how much you're struggling.

I don't think you need to use the word 'proship' if you don't feel like it. I no longer use it for myself because it's far too tame and watered down for my actual views.

Remake or don't, but turn off all anon asks or the equivalent on every platform. Accept DMs only from people you follow. Block early and often. Post your stuff, but make it very clear you have a zero tolerance policy for jackasses.

[nostalgiachan]

Oh hey, I'm doing that thing I said I was going to do where I try to catch up my Tumblr 100 OC posts with my Twitter ones. As always, new images up top, earliest images down below, and detailed info below the cut.

#45: Alriem Nelufera Idea: Moon elf DROOD Story: Dragon Tavern

As with a great many of these character groups, some parties got a lot more fleshing out than others, and the Champions of the Mountain Kingdoms were definitely the least developed of the three; and of the three of them, Systir easily got more development than Alriem or Iros. But Alriem's gotten a little smattering of building, especially with the changes to the Moon Elves, so here we go.

So as stated before, when the races and creatures of the world were seeded, the Moon Elves were the literal self inserts of the actual elves on the moon. As such, they adopted their creators' love of science and knowledge-gathering. They spent many a century exploring the wild and wacky world of science, with horticulture and geology being particularly popular fields; in time, the two even began to intermix, leading the Moon Elves to grow living crystals, among other things. They spread far and wide across their lands, but it wouldn't be long before they ran into the dwarves and humans, who had learned of and coveted their living crystal. Of course, the Moon Elves weren't complete victims, as they in turn coveted the lands of the other two, and they wanted to "peacefully relocate" the other races.

This led to to the creation of two like-minded groups; the Rangers, a more military group who actively patrolled their territory riddling invaders with arrows, and Cultivators, essentially science-druids who had learned to grow weaponry and familiars out of the earth.

And as you do, they all got to fighting with one another. But over the centuries, they realized that 1) none of them were getting what they wanted, and 2) there's some crazies out there called the Steel Empire and they have flying ships so maybe they should try to get along before they come to fuck them up.

And thus, in the spirit of self-defense, the three races came together to form the Mountain Kingdoms, a triumvirate helmed by the leaders of the three races. At first, relations were pretty shaky, but over time, the nations learned to like each other and cooperate, and in all the centuries since, there hasn't been a hint of malice between them - especially since they're all still waiting for the day the Steel Empire tries something funny.

Cut to the present day, and the Mountain Kingdoms have been greeted by a mysterious visitor promising them a power that will almost certainly help defend them against the inevitable invasion and totally won't unleash a raving mad elf who will absolutely destroy the world. And how could they say no to that? So, they put together a small band of champions to be led by Alriem Nelufera, a Cultivator. Like Sydan, she was chosen because she was known to be a capable fighter and a highly intelligent scientist, but was not renowned enough that her presence out in the wider world would cause any sort of stir.

As for the woman herself...she's very much a WIP when it comes to personality. In-game, I set her "mannerism" to "friendly," but I very much drew her more aloof-looking, like she was supposed to be a quiet, delicate sort of flower, so I kept to that. Years later, when I did her first redesign, I thought about giving her tattoos from which she summons her plants/weapons/familiars, as in-game one of your support items is a rune, but there's no real description as to whether the rune is a stone rune or it's a marking on your creature or what. I'm not sure I'm going with that idea anymore, though. I also thought she would summon her clothing out of her tattoos, because Moon Elves are naturalists but the rest of the civilized world doesn't roll like that, but I think I'll drop that one, too.

#46: Systir the Belt-taker Idea: Hot-blooded dragon-riding muscle-man who's also a functioning alcoholic Story: Dragon Tavern

In the early days, Systir was basically Kamina - or at least, my idea of Kamina before I actually watched more than 3 episodes of Gurren Lagann and realized I didn't like Kamina. Tall guy, shirtless, very similar tattoos, dark blue spiky hair, and he would PIERCE THE HEAVENS with his lance. He also had multiple mismatched belts around his waist because ??? When Dragon Tavern added drinking mechanics to the game, I found that Systir had the best overall luck with drinking and not running into any negative effects, so I worked in that he was a pretty hard partying dude.

And then, I actively decided he was an alcoholic. No whoopsie-doodling myself into it, I leaned all the way in. And thus did poor Systir become probably the guy who gets it the hardest out of this whole squad (except possibly Paz).

As for his present-day story, Systir is a member of the Sky Guard, a league of dragon riders and one of the most stalwart defenders among the human forces of the Mountain Kingdoms. While the Sky Guard are quite well-disciplined, they also tend to attract people with big egos and big tempers; every other Sky Guard seems to have something to prove, and when they're not actively defending their home against ne'er-do-wells, they're often challenging each other to winner-take-all jousting duels. Most duelists demand something valuable from their opponent when they win - gold, titles, items of personal importance, the occasional spouse.

But Systir's not like the average Sky Guard. He doesn't feel like he has anything to prove, because he knows he's the best.

He doesn't care to take fancy treasures or status symbols from his vanquished opponents. Instead, he only wants one thing: their belts. To him, nothing is sweeter than to watch the loser have to hobble away with their pants sliding. He even likes to wear the belts around his midsection as trophies, daring anyone to fight him again to win back their belt.

Systir and his bonded dragon, Lentaa, were one of the first choices to join the Champions of the Mountain Kingdoms; sure, he was a hard-drinking loudmouth, but he was unquestionably one of the fastest up-and-comers in the Sky Guard. Besides, Alriem would be handling any diplomacy and Iros would do the quiet jobs, so everything would be fine, right?

As it turns out, no. No, it wouldn't. Because later in the story, when everyone finally converges on the Tower and most have realized that whatever's on the other side is bad news, Systir is the one who says "Fuck that noise, we came here to do a job and we're going to finish that job," and activates the portal. And everyone nearly dies because of that, Systir included.

And boy, oh boy, does he not take the aftermath well. When everyone else decides to stay around the tower to shield it from interlopers and prepare for a proper reckoning with T'akar Duum, Systir instead can't handle the guilt he feels over nearly getting everyone killed and bails, disappearing into the woods with Lentaa to wander the earth and make hooch out of just about anything he can find so he can forget everything that happened; he feels that if he stays around, he's just liable to fuck up again.

Things probably get better for him eventually, but uh...I never got that far.

#47: Iros Idea: Creeping sneakthief WIP Story: Dragon Tavern

Without a doubt, Iros was the least developed of the initial batch of Dragon Tavern characters; the most that was written about him was that he was a meticulous planner who used his naturally sleepy appearance to hide his cunning intellect, but who would also quickly grow agitated if things didn't go exactly according to his plans. Unlike Alriem and Systir, however, I didn't spend nearly as much time over the years reworking his character. Poor dude kinda fell through the cracks...which, during the last however-long I've worked on this one, I might have actually taken to heart and worked into his new character.

While the meticulous planning and quiet cunning will stay, I now picture Iros as much more of an eccentric weirdo than I'd originally made him. As far as he can remember, he had always lived alone, sneaking about back alleys and scrounging to survive. He grew so used to living in the darkness and keeping out of the eye of others that the thought of anyone perceiving him would send him into an immediate state of panic. So imagine his surprise when he got caught stealing from the home of a veteran Infiltrator.

As tends to happen in these sorts of things, the Infiltrator was mighty impressed, taking the youth under her wing and teaching him the finer points of sneaky-beaking while slowly getting him used to the idea of being seen by other people, along with giving him a general education considering he was a feral child; she also happened to give him his name. A few years later, he was hand-picked to join the Champions of the Mountain Kingdoms.

As for where he ends up in the second half of the story, the only thing I particularly remember is that he winds up being one of the worse-off members, ultimately getting his entire jaw ripped off by T'akar Duum and getting a prosthetic fashioned for him by Paz. Whether or not I'll keep this is up in the air (chances are good I won't, though, since the only reason he'd had it at all was because MGS4 had released around that time and I thought Raiden's metal jaw looked cool), but beyond that, he most likely returned to civilization at large, mostly to spread misinformation to any Seekers looking for the Tower's location.

#48: Rinel Acolytus Idea: Leader of the holy choir, smiter of the wicked, raging bigot Story: Dragon Tavern

At last, we have our final squad, the Champions of the Steel Empire. In-game, the Steel Empire was basically Warhammer 40k (God-Emperor, an inquisition, science > magic, kill-all-xenos policy) with the tech level of Warhammer Fantasy (steamcraft, zeppelins, knights on horseback). Thus, they, more than either of the other two regions, have needed to have some reworkings over the years to try to divorce them from the obvious influences while still keeping the general gist of what they are. The primary thing that's changed is the origin and function of the God Emperor, who I've now reimagined as the Eternal Child; long ago, something happened which trapped the young boy in a perpetual state of being ten years old. Whether or not said something also gave him unprecedented magical powers, no one knows and the Eternal Child is not mentally capable of figuring it out. What is known, at least to a very select few, is that the Eternal Child is exactly as much of a Problem™️ as one would expect a permanent ten year old with borderline-uncontrollable magic powers would be.

As such, the Empire actually arose out of a need to a) appease the Child to keep him from nuking their whole society on a whim, especially when the regularly-attacking local wildlife and inhospitable environs already made life difficult, and b) potentially weaponize the Child since if his abilities could be harnessed in some way, it could finally give them the proper foothold to expand their civilization.

Thus came the mythology that the Eternal Child was the god emperor supreme blessed with divine yadda yadda who single-handedly saved their people from destruction and whose power he bestowed upon a chosen few, his Acolytes, to act as his will in the world at large while he was busy personally keeping their region safe. In truth, the Child was a petty brat who for some reason no one knows absolutely hated all magic despite having access to it himself. Thus, the initial banning of magic was twofold; first, to keep anyone from exploring alternate forms of magic and potentially undermining the power and unity of the Empire, and second, simply because the Eternal Child willed it, and his word was ultimately law (when the inner circle couldn't get away with circumventing it for their own desires, of course). Over the millennia, much of the truth was lost, concealed, or altered in so many ways that xenophobia and superstition became baked into society at large.

And that's where we come to Rinel. Rinel is one of those aforementioned Acolytes, who through the power of hymns and a big ol' hammer can channel the Eternal Child's power (which is totally not supplementing her own innate magic, she doesn't have magic, that's witchcraft, shut up) to smite her enemies. And like most good Acolytes, she's in the service of spreading the will of the Child by just about any means necessary. She hates non-humans, she hates witches, she hates magical creatures, she loves the Eternal Child. Simple as. And as such, when the inner circle received word of the Tower, she was chosen to lead the Champions as she had more than proven that her loyalty to the Empire wouldn't waver in the face of the temptations of the outside world.

She's a dour, serious young woman who is absolutely devoted to her mission and duty. So, of course, this tends to cause some wacky shenaniganry when she's paired with an Inquisitor who is more than willing to play a little fast and loose with the "non-humans and magic bad" stance and a perky young engineer, both of whom think she could stand to lighten the fuck up.

And lighten the fuck up, she does, eventually. As she travels, and especially after she meets the other teams, her bigotry is challenged, and ultimately breaks by the time they face down T'akar Duum. The final nail in the coffin for her extremism is that she falls in love with Enkeli, said Inquisitor, and learns he's been possessed by a demonic force that is slowly transforming him. Whereas in the early story, she would've just caved in his skull with her hammer, burnt his corpse, and been done with it, now, she actually wants to try to free him of his curse. After the time skip, much of her time has been spent studying esoteric exorcism rituals and properly studying magic to break her reliance on channeling the Eternal Child - she stops using her channeling because she doesn't know if her connection to the Child would tell the Empire where they were, so she needed another method to dig into her power.

[witchboyjimin]

What fandoms were you /are you still a part of aside from BTS? Did you actively write for any of them, and if so, which ships inspired you? How did you come across BTS and what made you stan? (Imma assume jimin? Jimin!) And on that note, what made you ship kookmin or what about them gave you inspiration to write about them?

Sorry if this seems intrusive sgdhdjf but Im genuinely just curious about your fandom and writing journey :)!

hello! this isn't intrusive at all so no worries at all!!

oh man, i started writing when i was 11? at least in terms of posting fic on the internet except back then i don't think i even considered it to be fic. it was just stories set in my fandom at the time (it was naruto...and then harry potter and emo bands. yes, it was self insert.)

currently, i only actively write for bts fandom. this will likely change once i finish reading omniscient reader's viewpoint (orv) because i am already RARING to write fic for my orv otp, joongdok, but i really want to finish the web novel before i spiral.

i find the best way to enjoy your bts fandom experience is to also have multiple other interests you're partially engaged in/with so that bts fandom doesn't drive you insane :) other interests i am invested in include but are not limited to: orv, tgcf, mdzs, svsss, jujutsu kaisen, demon slayer, a plethora of bl, the magnus archives, and i try to read published stuff but i've been slipping on that front the last few months.

i will put the rest of the answer under a cut because...this is already quite long.

in the past i've written for naruto (sasunaru), harry potter (drarry), a few other animangas, kingdom hearts (axel/roxas), and when i did start writing for kpop fandoms it went from beast to block b/bap to exo to ikon/got7 to bts.

but i've been part of like tons of other fandoms where i only read fic and engaged with other people's content. fandoms include (non-exhaustive): bandom, inception, merlin, marvel (i rly only cared abt stucky), star trek (spirk, MY BELOVED), teen wolf (sterek has everyone in their clutches), football (european) rpf, hannibal and a slew of animanga. there's definitely stuff i missed but my point is just: have lots of interests! and consume a variety of media! it makes you a better writer and person imo.

baby me was definitely obsessed with enemies to lovers (adult me still is) so i am always drawn to an otp that has the enemies/rivals to lovers dynamic because nothing satisfies me as much as tension and push/pull dynamics. i think once i got into rpf fandoms tho (bandom, kpop), i did start enjoying seeing two people that just love each other very openly.

SO ofc when i finally ended up in bts fandom, it was only a matter of time before kookmin ate me alive. i started stanning bts in march/april of 2015. i'd listened to their title tracks/watched mvs from their debut but i was an exo stan and i had tunnel vision and then exo was like, falling apart in 2014-2015 tgknfk and i got into got7 and ikon for a while but i guess they just didn't hit the same cause i started watching bts mvs one day and then binged SO many bangtan bombs and watched american hustle life and then 2 weeks?? later bts announced they were having a comeback and i've never looked back. bts are just incredibly funny and genuine (there is nothing manufactured about them) and back in 2015, no one was putting themselves out there the way bts were. they were super engaged with their fan base through youtube and twitter so even when they didn't have a comeback, they were still posting new content which is not what other groups were doing. bighit knew what they were doing, i guess.

and yes, jimin 100% drew me in. even before i was a fan, he was already my fav from the few mvs i had seen and then when i got seriously into them, i was obsessed with him. he's so fucking funny and BABY!!!!!!!!! and has just been the kindest person since day one??? and an incredible dancer, like just mesmerizing. also, he's the prettiest most gorgeous person ever. there is no joy or comfort quite like getting to stare at jimin's beautiful face.

i was actually a multi-jimin shipper when i started out. my fav ships were hopemin, minjoon, and yoonmin. rapline/jimin was everything to me and so was yoonseok!! jimin was just very baby around rapline and acted cute because he loves attention and praise and i love this about him jbsdjk i liked vmin and kookmin at the time, too, but i've always liked vmin as friends more than romantically and kookmin didn't take over my entire brain until may 2016 when back hug scene happened. up until then, i liked them because it was obvs jimin doted on jeongguk A Lot and i enjoyed what a tsundere brat jeongguk was but back hug scene rewired my brain cause all i wanted to do after that was write kookmin.

i think seeing how much they both love each other and how supportive they are/how they show up for each other over and over again (excellent song choice for gcf tokyo jjk) just makes it impossible for me to not ship them?? plus we got to see their relationship grow and develop and transform to what it is today...it's hard not to love them tbh. for me, it's the devotion and how much they clearly like each other as friends that keeps me writing for them. i love love love the ways they show how much the other means to them whether that be the grand gestures (the tokyo trip, jimin flying across the world to be there for jeongguk's birthday) or the little things (the way they baby each other and worry over the other's well-being).

also, i think the fun of writing an rpf otp is that you can really put them in any scenario you want. there is no canon we have to adhere to so you're really only restricted/limited by characterization and tbh you can take liberties there, too because we don't 100% know the boys. plus how you act as an idol may not be how you act in a dystopia au lol it really is like playing house and it lets me be as creative as i want so i find it easy to keep putting them in new scenarios! i do think that if they didn't love each other as much as they do, i'd have maybe lost interest but so far that hasn't happened so yay for me haha

anyways I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG!!!!!!!!!!! kudos to you if you read all the way to the end...

hope you have a great day anonie!

[frecklystars]

Jorge makes the spackle AND the messy flower bouquets 🥰💚💐⏳✨

[cuttinqlines]

IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR II

                             IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR II

(richard ramirez [ahs 1984] x reader | mainly implied xavier plympton x reader)

trigger warning; drug use, toxic relationships, mentions of abuse, toxic characters, xavier is portrayed as a major piece of shit for the first few installments, glorification of a serial killer, knives, etc.

disclaimer: i do not support the real richard ramirez in any way, shape, or form. this is simply based on the fictional version from ahs 1984. no disrespect is intended in any way. please, feel free to click off of the fic if you don’t enjoy this type of content. any hate will be ignored.

word count: 2,467

a/n: sorry this took so long. im a depressed piece of shit lmao. 

taglist: @kuollut-talven @felicityofbakerstreet @bitchcraft1398 

previous | next

IT HAD ONLY been a few days since your run-in with the self-proclaimed ‘Night Stalker’ yet it felt like years had passed. The memory of the event was constantly running through your mind, seeming to occupy your every thought. It was as if your mind was filled only with visions of dark hair and piercing dark eyes. It had gotten to the point where it was consuming you, distracting you from anything that wasn’t the thought of him. It was impossible to focus. You weren’t exactly sure that you wanted to. The part of you that desperately longed for the dark stranger to reappear and tear you away from your dilapidating life was overtaking you. You had almost wished that you would have given in to his demands that night. Almost. Something had been holding you back that night and something- someone- was still holding you back, tethering you to the place you had grown to despise.

Letting out a sigh, you stared at yourself in front of the bathroom mirror, attempting to shake away the thoughts that continuously plagued you. The ghost of a bruise still showed underneath your eye, barely noticeable with the makeup that you had delicately applied over it. You looked better than you had in the days before, but you still weren’t keen on leaving the confines of the four walls of your bedroom, let alone your apartment. You hadn’t left the house since that night. You were sure everyone thought that you were spiraling- He had probably twisted the story into that narrative. You turned away from the mirror, leaning against the base of the sink. It was time to face the situation at hand. You could already feel the silent judgment of Montana. She had told you so.  “Fuck.”

It shouldn’t have mattered that much to you- what everyone thought. It’s not like they had too much room to judge. They were your friends, sort of, but they didn’t rule you. They weren’t the end all be all. Still, you couldn’t help but feel nervous at the thought of facing them. It had been days of voicemails, knocks on the door, and missed phone calls. You had gone ghost. They wouldn’t have expected anything else, though. It wasn’t unlike you to disappear. You were used to disappointing everyone. 

After a few more minutes of anxiety and deliberation, you laid out a pretty white line, snorted it down, and got ready to head out the door. At the very least, you could show up to aerobics and casually run into everyone. By the time you got there, you were sure you could figure out how to gloss over all of the problems that kept on appearing. 

****

The Aerobics studio hadn’t changed much in your week of absence. The faces of the instructors were still plastered on the walls, yours still included much to your surprise. The chairs strategically placed throughout the lobby were occupied by young adults, laughing at something one of them had said. The ambiance was peaceful and you suddenly wished that you would have shown up for work in the last week. The thought quickly diminished as you thought back to the bruise that had been occupying your face. There was no way you would have shown up with that. You wouldn’t have given him the satisfaction. Stepping up to the front desk, you leaned against the counter lazily. 

“Hi. Do you have any classes with vacant spaces open for today, Janice?” You asked the receptionist a bit awkwardly, looking at the wall behind her as you spoke.

The woman looked up, purposefully making direct eye contact. She looked you up and down, judgement written all over her face.  “Yes. The instructor position for the class you teach at 6:30, (Y/N). If you want to keep your job, I suggest you get prepared for it and go teach it.” 

You couldn’t help but cringe at her tone. The attitude dripped off of it like poison. Truth be told, you had thought that you had already been fired. That is generally what happens after you drop off of the face of the planet for a week. “Right- I’ll just go ahead and get set up to start, then. Thank you.”

“You’re lucky that you showed up today. You’re really pushing it with your delinquent behavior. Shape up or ship out, sweetheart. This is the last time you’re getting exceptions. You’re really lucky that Montana covered your classes for the week. Now, get moving. It’s 6:20. Studio 3.”

Janice hardly gave you time to react, as she stood up and began to push you towards the direction of the studio. Her cold touch caused an unpleasant shiver to shoot through your spine. Your mind instantly drifted to your unwelcome house guest, though the shiver he gave you was not exactly unpleasant- You mentally scolded yourself for obsessing over the ‘Night Stalker’, before practically bursting into the studio. 

It felt as if a million eyes landed on you from the moment you opened the door. The never-ending stares seemed to burn holes into your skin. One pair of eyes, in particular, seemed to stare the deepest. Xavier. You flickered your gaze to meet his, the other people in the room disappearing into a sort of tunnel that consumed the sides of your vision. Your heart caught in your chest. You wanted to tear your eyes away, but there was something stopping you. Something about Xavier always seemed to hold you back. His gaze was pleading, an apology seeming to spill out of it. 

 “(Y/N)! I thought you were going to be out for a while! Xavier said that you were like super sick or something.” Montana’s voice rang out, casually. “So happy you’re here though. Teaching this class has been such a drag.”

At the sound of the young woman’s voice, your head instinctively jerked towards it. You plastered a pained smile onto your face. “Yeah- thanks for covering for me, Montana. I seriously owe you one. Being sick was a major drag. Probably worse than teaching this class of Cyndi Lauper obsessed boys.” 

The blonde let out a laugh. “Well, since you’re back, I’ll let you take this one. And maybe take your man out when you’re done. He’s been such a buzzkill lately.” 

Montana gave you a wink, patting your shoulder affectionately. With a final wave to you and Xavier, she slipped out the door and disappeared down the hall with a flash of blonde hair. Not wanting to waste any more time, or give Xavier the chance to talk to you, you flicked the boom box on and let the sound of Billy Idol’s voice fill the room. 

****

The entirety of the class went by uneventfully. Billy Idol’s soothing tone seemed to temporarily soother your anxiety, making it easier for you to ignore the pained glances that were becoming more and more inescapable. You left the music on as the class drew to a close, turning the volume down to a soft, but audible hum. You didn’t bother to look as everyone made their way to the door. Instead, you moved towards the front of the room, letting yourself face the large windows that looked out towards the city. 

You watched as people leaving the last few classes of the evening walked down the sidewalk, off into the night. Some faces were familiar, regulars that always seemed to be in aerobics class. Other faces, unfamiliar and new. They all seemed so happy, as if their lives were perfect. You wished that you could get a taste of that feeling. You continued to admire the citizens of Los Angeles, lost in your thoughts. Then, in a sudden flash, there was a single face that stuck out in the crowd. Unmistakable dark hair and piercing eyes that could have belonged only to the face that you could never forget. You locked eyes with the man, causing a sinister smile to appear on his face. He moved closer to the building. Your heart skipped a beat. He was headed towards the door. Your eyes were still locked with his, nothing could-

“(Y/N)... Can we talk about what happened the other night? Please… I didn’t mean for it to go so far.” Xavier’s voice hit your ears, soft and pleading. 

You broke away from the ‘Night Stalker’s’ gaze, slowly turning to face the man that you had once felt so strongly for. You leaned against the windows behind you, pressing your nearly bare back against the cool glass. Xavier took a few steps closer, leaving only a few inches between your faces. You couldn’t help but flinch as he reached out to tenderly touch your face. Hurt flashed across his face briefly, but his hand still gently came into contact with your soft skin. You let your eyes flutter closed and sucked in a sharp breath. “I- I can’t do this,” you whispered, hot tears pricking in the inner corner of your eyes. So many different emotions were running through your body. The urge to run away from him had never been so heightened. 

He grazed his thumb gingerly across your jawline, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Please. I just wanted it so badly and I thought that was the only way. And I didn’t want anyone to find out. The way you looked at me when you did- I lost it. I thought you would tell everyone. I thought you would leave me. I’m so sorry.” 

You had yet to respond to him when a cutting voice interrupted the scene unfolding before you. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The deep voice questioned, sinister laughter etched into his tone. 

“N-?” You began, eyes flickering open. You met the dark haired man’s eyes, looking directly past Xavier. He was already staring at you intensely, the usual smirk plastered on his face. 

“Richard.” He corrected, moving his eyes from you to the other man in your company. Xavier had moved away from you by this point, looking at Richard with a suspicious glare. Richard simply continued to smirk at him, looking more and more devilish as time passed. “My little angel, didn’t expect to see you so soon. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Okay. Who the fuck are you?” Xavier demanded, his hand wrapping around your forearm in a protective manner. You instinctively recoiled to his touch. You shifted your weight from one foot to another, watching as the two began to go back and forth. 

“I’m the devil’s favorite prodigy. It’s more like ‘who the fuck are you?’” The other man taunted. His eyes locked on the contact point of yours and Xavier’s skin. An unreadable emotion flashed across his face, but was quickly replaced with his usual infuriating smirk. “I’ve decided I’m here to collect her. Truth be told, it wasn’t originally in my master and I’s plan, but it seems like I stumbled in at the perfect time, with you harassing my girl.”

“Your-? (Y/N), are you fucking this guy? We get into one fight and you’re off giving it out to this creep?” The blonde questioned, his tone demanding and incredulous. His voice rose with every word that he spoke. He was red in the face by this point. You could tell by the clench in his jaw and the way his hand tightened around you that he was angry. The smug expression of Richard definitely wasn’t helping his reaction either.

You tried to ignore the fear that had begun to creep into the back of your mind, your mind flashing back to his closed fist accidentally ramming into your face. You looked up at him with your tear stained face. Words were failing you. You didn’t exactly want to say that Richard had broken into your house, pinned you against a wall, and sparked something inside of you that made you feel so many fucked up things. Was it really more fucked up than what you felt about Xavier after everything that he had done? You weren’t so sure any more. Xavier seemed to take your silence and lack of denial as a ‘yes’ to his questions. Disgust took over his face, his hand tossing your arm away as if it had suddenly turned into some sort of cursed object. 

He scoffed at you, shoving you away from his body. “I can’t believe you would do this to me. Maybe you deserved that.” He spat out venomously, angrily gesturing to the hardly hidden  bruise underneath your eye. 

You flinched as his hand raised. Something seemed to click into place for the dark haired man as he watched the two of you, your reaction triggering the darkest part of him. You hardly had time to react further, before Richard was in front of you. His left arm pressed back against your body, gently shoving you behind him. His right hand was adorned with his blade, ready to slash at the man before him. “You did that to her? For your sake, I hope you say no. I’d hate to have to kill you right here. It would really throw a wrench into the master’s plans and we both hate that.”

Your hand reached out slowly, tugging on the edge of this sleeve, beckoning his eyes to meet your eyes. He complied, looking over his shoulder quickly. You shook your head at him, a silent plea for him to drop it. He was already acting psychotic enough to have the police called on him and you were sure that would be the last thing that he wanted. He looked back to Xavier, who was staring at him incredulously. “Get the fuck out of here or die,” The dark haired man spat out.

Xavier gave you a pointed look, before shoving past the both of you and storming out of the studio. You knew he would show up at your apartment later, demanding explanations for the psychotic interaction that just went down. You would figure out a way to avoid that later. For now, your full attention was on Richard. He turned towards you, dark eyes studying the every feature on your face. His hand hovered over the side of your neck, before gently pushing your hair to the side. His fingers softly trailed down the side of your throat, traveling down your chest. Like a phantom, they grazed the length of your body, sending a shiver down your spine. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. You softly bit down on your bottom lip, eyes staring straight into his. “You’re mine now, little angel. I’ll kill for you. I’ll die for you. But you have to be mine forever- That’s the catch. Will you sell your soul to the devil?”

“I will.”

[bunny-hoodlum]

Asynchronous With You: Ch 5

ship: naruhina

rating: teen (maybe mature later)

tags: Modern Day AU, Foster Siblings, Family, Angst, Unrequited Love, Poor Communication/Noncommunication, Found Family

summary: An awkward journey full of self-denial and missed moments between two foster siblings. Perhaps their love will find the right timing someday.

Neji met them outside the dorm gates. As generous as his dorm-mate Lee was, he couldn't ask him to step out for their sake.

They followed Neji to a nearby linear park that segregated the school grounds from the business park on the other side. It felt like a glass-less greenhouse, with polished granite beneath their feet and a vine-carpeted roof overhead. The benches were slabs of granite, as were the other fixtures, like an orb fountain in the center, with flawless skin of water running over its surface. The full trees muffled the night, with its crickets and distant chugging cars. The gentle, steady trickle contrasted against their footsteps, like two off-tempo drums and hers a mournful castanet.

Now that they were finally here, she was beginning to lose her nerve, she was forgetting what she had to complain about.

All that mattered was that she was healthy, right? All that mattered was that they were actually taking good care of her.

But the last thing she said to her, telling her to go home, saying that at least one of them should be loved by their parents, it began to eat at Hinata.

Could it be that she doesn't have any love to come home to?

Like resonance, her soul trembled and her ribs ached. The heel of her palm pressed against the skin between her wet eyes.

"I've become like them. I messed up."

The bench caught her before she could sink down to the ground.

"What're you talking about?" came Naruto's voice, barely reaching her ears.

"You mean Aunt and Uncle?"

Hinata nodded.

"What??" Naruto smacked his forehead rather hard. "How were you supposed to act?! They knew where you were! Nothing was stopping them from taking you guys back--"

"We don't know that." Hinata argued.

"Bullshit!"

"We don't," Her shoulders lifted, turning rigid. "They could barely take care of the two of us. It would've been the same if they had to take care of two daughters--"

"What about visits? What's so hard about keeping in touch?!"

She stayed silent. It wasn't that she hadn't considered that, it was that it was too upsetting to ruminate on any deeper.

"Ten years, Hinata. They had to have lied to her, right? Raised her believing she was an only child? C'mon, why aren't you angrier about this?!"

She wasn't sure if it was defiance that lifted her chin, but the eyes she chose to meet were Neji's as she implored him join in.

His eyes closed as he released a pensive sigh. "What's she like?"

"Don't change the subject," Naruto snapped. "Hinata needs to vent."

She prodded Neji with her stare. He shook his head.

"Who are you talking about?" Neji punctuated his rhetoric with a sidelong glance, causing Naruto to bristle. "This Hinata?"

"Yeah, this Hinata. Our Hinata. What the fuck, we've shared the same home for ten years! Hinata! You vent! You vented the other month about your-your shirt!" His face reddened as he brought up, perhaps, the worst example he possibly could.

"I was in a weird mood," Hinata said quickly, giving Naruto whiplash.

"A--A 'weird' mood?! What, like you just felt like messing with me kind of 'weird'??"

Hinata lamely shrugged her shoulders before curling in on herself like an armadillo. She could only imagine how exponential his irritation was to increase. She should've answered Neji's question right away instead of trying to convey her complaints to Neji, because now they were getting way off topic. Which was ironic for Naruto, who thought Neji was the one diverting attention away from her pain.

Neji pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what the story is, and I don't think I want to know."

"Good. 'Cuz I don't want to talk about it." Naruto huffed as he crossed his arms.

Silence lapsed around them. Somehow Hinata was rather surprised their arguing managed to fizzle out on its own and so quickly. The past was almost laughable in how different it was from the present.

'That's right. It's always going to be rocky at first, but it takes time to get used to one another.' This was proof that she and Hanabi could grow into sisters no matter how much time had been lost.

"Her name's Hanabi. Her favorite foods are bananas and milk, and she hates the herb mitsuba. She's cheerful, cheeky, and surprisingly athletic. And... I really want to get to know her better." The tears fell swifter and harder on her lap as she re-conjured the heartbroken betrayal she had put on Hanabi's face.

She really hoped it wasn't too late.

Neji joined her side and rubbed her back, while Naruto kept his distance.

Even though he had been given Neji's explicit blessing years before, somehow it didn't feel appropriate for him to console her too.

Looking at them now, it was like those two had never grown apart, not even a centimeter. And they had been communicating with their eyes, he was sure of it. Speaking around him, because he wasn't actually a part of this.

They're what real siblings look like.

________________________

Taking the midnight train back home, Naruto spent the next thirty minutes absorbed in the things that amused him, from sexy two-minute shorts, to prank compilations and this one guy from Kaminari that totally bites at rapping. Absolutely no one, neither he nor his 745k followers know if he's a comedy channel where he's bad on purpose, or if he's just gotten popular for all the wrong reasons, but watching him never fails to inspire a deep gut-laugh from Naruto.

Because he wouldn't be laughing this hard if something was bothering him, especially not a whole host of somethings.

He ignored how arriving at their station didn't feel quite right, how following Hinata didn't feel normal.

He was surprised when she finally started talking to him, yet the weariness her voice instilled was not lost on him.

"Who was the first girl you liked?"

"Hm? Oh, guess that'd be Sakura-chan."

"I see. And how old were you when you knew?"

"Eight, I guess?"

"Eight," The number floated from her mouth in an amazed whisper, "Do you think somebody already likes Hanabi-chan?"

A blond brow perked up. "Is this that protective Onee-san instinct kicking in already?" When she giggled, his heart sank.

"I suppose it is."

And when the silence closed in on him again, he spoke up to keep it going. "Uh, what about you?"

Her steps faltered for a second, then picked up with an exaggerated bounce. "There's someone."

"Still? Like, ongoing?"

"Mmhm."

Naruto blinked rapidly, whiplash striking again. How? How did he not know his sister liked someone? "Since when?"

"Mmmm," She hummed that note a little too long that bordered on mocking him, and he was about to storm on ahead of her, until she said, "Third grade."

"What?!" Ineloquent as that was, he somehow expected her to answer him. He stood there as she traipsed away, waiting until he was finally fed up. "Well, who the fuck is it?!"

"Guess."

He jogged after her. "Kiba?" His mouth soured at the thought.

She crossed her forearms into an 'X', making the buzzer sound in game shows when the contestant got the answer wrong. "Bubuu."

"Shino?" He didn't know what to think about that if it were true. Guess they were both quiet and smart and a little weird. Is that what compatibility looks like?

"Bubuu," she went again.

What other guys was she in contact with?

Shikamaru was a good friend who came over to game sometimes, but he definitely didn't sense anything there. No, no way it could be him. And everyone was pretty sure Sai was asexual.

"Sasuke?" Why not? He was the school heartthrob nine years running. Didn't matter whether Naruto understood the taste of girls or not, they all wanted him. He kinda wishes he noticed sooner now, because he imagining a plain girl like her pining for someone unreachable and he really hates that for her. When she slows to a stop under the streetlamp, he thinks he's finally figured it out, though the truth ended up being really anticlimactic in the end.

She half-turns towards him, her face blank save for the edge of distaste clinging to the corners of her lips and eyes.

"Gross."

He reeled back. "Gross? Whaddya mean gross?" She continued on her way, forcing him to jog after her. "Hey, I can't believe you think he's gross! Are you just being a contrarian?" Her pace picked up faster. "Y'know, like what unpopular girls do when they can't fit in?"And faster. "You really think he's gross?" She was hurrying on ahead and he was trying to catch a glimpse of her face, just a little bit of veracity. "Hinata?!"

They arrived at the steps of their apartment.

"You have until graduation to guess!" She called over her shoulder as she ran ahead, her voice pitching high at the end.

She was upset.

Her footsteps resounded through the corridors like frantic clapping, but he wasn't being congratulated at all.

It was finally apparent to him that he hasn't paid attention to Hinata in a long, long time. That's why Neji was making fun of him.

He took the elevator to their apartment, and when he reached the hole between their bedrooms, he got down on both knees and crouched his spine. They haven't used this in years, he couldn't believe how small they used to be, this hole had to be over three feet from the floor. It was making his back hurt. "Hinata," He bit his tongue with a pause. "What happens if I can't guess by graduation?" Nothing. Just silence. "Hinata? Are you not going to talk to me anymore?"

"Yeah," If a ghost could croak, that's what it sounded like. "If you can't guess by graduation, I'm not going to talk to you anymore."

He palmed the wall as he drew to full height, then stepped away, neither urgency nor insult registering in his chest. He didn't know what was in there. Maybe nothing. He raised his voice a little, just enough so that she could hear.

"I'm going to take this another weird mood of yours, okay? There's no way you really mean that."

Hovering for half a second more, he didn't give her time to respond as he headed for his bed on the opposite side of the room.

Maybe Sakura had the right idea about family. Maybe it's better to just find your own.

________________________

AN: Lel, I totally forgot to add the summary and ratings thing in the last chapter. 😜😅 Hope you liked this one!

[tokisguitarpick]

balcony

characters: Pickles the Drummer x Reader

length: 1700+ words

listen this is really self indulgent but pickles’ back story hits me on a personal level. tried to phrase the mom self in a way that even someone with a good mom could see themselves in the reader but s/o to bitches who’s moms stress them out, we see you

You sighed, holding your own hand and staring up at the night sky, sat on top of Mordhaus. About three months into your employment, you had found the perfect place for lunch breaks, sneaking out with a joint mid-shift, anything. Up the emergency ladder, around the smokestacks, and over a large generator, there was a tiny balcony that no one seemed to know about and it was one of your favorite spots on the whole ship. And tonight, you needed it for the clarity it gave you. 

Nails bitten to the quick, you had spent a couple of hours pacing in your bedroom before making your way up here to sit in the peace and quiet and really just be alone.

“Doode, what ahre you doin’ up ‘ere?” Your eyes closed. Of course.

It’s not that you would normally mind Pickles for company. In fact, quite the opposite. Something about the drummer drew you to him and between his chill demeanor and frequent offers of hits off his joint, he was typically your favorite band member. But tonight, any company felt like more energy than you had to spend.

But it was your job to spend energy entertaining, safeguarding, and checking on Dethklok so you fixed your face into a neutral expression and replied, “I like to come up here when I need some fresh air.” 

Pickles swung himself over the generator with ease and plopped down next to you, both of you sticking your legs through the wide gaps under the balcony fencing and letting them hang down. “Oh yeah, me tooh.” As usual, the drummer brought with him the stale scent of alcohol and sweat, as well as the very pungent smell of fresh weed. “You know me, I like to be high.” Pickles chuckled at his own joke as you watched him pull a silver cigarette case from his back pocket but his laughter died on his lips when he met your gaze. “Sam’thin’ wrong?”

Your head tilted as you looked over yourself in your mind’s eye. “What do you mean?”

Slowly, Pickles raised a calloused thumb to your cheek and you felt him wipe away some wetness. Fuck. You hadn’t cried much and the cool night air had dried most of the tears as Mordhaus chugged forward but apparently, there was enough evidence left for him to find. 

“Yah knoow,” Pickles started, his eyes trained on his hand instead of meeting your own, “I’m naht really one for… talkin’ about feelin’s and shit. But ah, uh, I can listen?” His eyes were a deep, comforting shade of green, something you noticed when they finally met yours, his pierced eyebrows raising as he ended with a question. 

Your heart softened and you smiled softly, prompting a lopsided smirk from the drummer as he finally dropped his hand. He fiddled with the cigarette case in his lap until he produced a blunt and held it out for you. “So whaht’s goin’ on?”

Taking the blunt from him and then the offered lighter- a zippo with a dill pickle carved on the side-, you lit up and took a long drag before passing both back to him. The paper crackled next to you with his inhale and you stared at the sky again, breathing your hit out like a cloud in front of you. 

“My mom called.” No longer a happy notification to receive, the information turned your stomach. Ever since you had gone against her wishes and applied for the stressful, dangerous, terrifying job of being a managerial coordinator for the band Dethklok, she had turned into someone you could hardly recognize. Cold, petty, always passively asking for money and aggressively telling you how little you must care about her since you were always too busy to call her when she was free (not when you were, though. She was a busy woman and she couldn’t wait around all day just for a call). You assumed she was angry you hadn’t listened to her and was even angier that you didn’t volunteer those, frankly, sweet as hell Dethklok paychecks to appease her.

You glanced out of the corner of your eye to see Pickles make a sour face, his cheeks puffed with weed smoke. Releasing his hit with a cough, he passed the blunt and nodded. “I know that feelin’. When my mam’ calls, I send it straight tah’ voicemail.”

“Maybe I need to start doing that,” you mused quietly. Puff and pass, you moved your gaze down to watch the traffic passing on the various highways around the house.

“That bad?” Pickles asked, holding onto the blunt for a minute as he tried to fix a run in the burn. You didn’t mind, your high creeping up and the wad of anxiety in your stomach loosening. 

Turning your answer over in your mind a few times, you finally spoke when you realized you had been quiet for an embarrassingly long time. “She’s just different now. I feel like she’s not the same person I knew growing up and the person she is now… I don’t know if it’s a person I like.” You had wondered a few times if she was destined to become this woman but when memories resurfaced, you felt as though your current feelings tainted them and you weren’t sure what the truth was. “I just- I don’t know. Do you ever feel like your family would like you so much more if you just shut up and gave them all your spare cash?” 

This time, Pickles was the one who was silent for what seemed like a long time and when you finally looked up, you were surprised to see he had completely disassembled the blunt and was rolling a joint with the leftover weed on one side of the open cigarette case. It was balanced carefully on his thigh- full of a few dime bags of ground weed and spare rolling papers- but his face was angled towards you. “Uh, yeah. That’s all I feel when it comes to my family.” Bringing the joint up to his lips, he gave you a curious look, furrowing his brow. “Cahn I ask you sam’thin’?”

You nodded.

“Is yuhr mam’ hasslin’ you for money?” Lighting up with a couple of puffs, he passed the joint to you and leaned back on his palms.

That was the long and short of it from as far as you could tell, you mused. You took a deep hit, studying Pickles as you nodded again. Your high was hitting you and suddenly, the terse phone call that had been weighing on you seemed much less important than the physique of the drummer next to you. Long, deep red dreads flowed in the light evening breeze, drawing your eyes down his neck and shoulders. Almost always in a dark tank top, his muscular shoulders and arms stole the show, lithe and wirey from years of being a professional musician. God, he was hot. Sure, he was more than a little older than you, and balding just a little, and maybe unable to be sober for longer than a half hour without complaining. But otherwise, very hot. Your gaze fell to his hands, fingers with blunt nails spread to support himself, and the backs of his palms flexed with large veins.

You were only moments away from poking one when his voice broke your concentration. “Like whaht yah see?” Looking back to his face, Pickles’ smirk was now a full blown grin and he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Wanna take a picture? It’ll last longer.”

“Sorry,” you chuckled, the heat of a blush finding your cheeks as you puffed and passed the joint, “I’m kinda stoned. Your weed is always so fucking strong.” 

Pickles broke out into nasally laughter and you couldn’t help giggling yourself in response. “That’s why I get it, only the good shit,” he replied, still chuckling. He puffed then snuffed the joint and tucked it behind his ear for safekeeping as he sat up.

Unable to get a handle on the stoned laughter coming out of you, your giggle fit continued and you leaned over, resting your forehead on his shoulder. You put a hand over your mouth as you tried to relax. Pickles shifted under you, letting your head find his collarbone as he wrapped his arm around your waist. He seemed to freeze like that and if you had been sober, you probably would’ve stayed that way, savoring the feeling of closeness with your celebrity crush in such a private moment. There were over a million Dethklok fans who would kill or die for this to happen to them.

But you were high as fuck and didn’t like how stiff the embrace felt. You shifted yourself to lean more comfortably against him without realizing it, until his hand started to fall from your side. Instantly, you grasped his wrist and brought it back to your hip, murmuring, “You’re good.” 

Pickles laughed again, squeezing you and resting his hand on your ribcage. He was so warm, you could feel his palmprint burning through the thin cotton of your sleepshirt, so close under your breast that it made you shiver. “Oh, honey, I could get you tah’ say that a hundred different ways,” he stated confidently. It made your blush burn even hotter, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Pickles, however, cleared his throat and muttered, “Uh, not like in a sexuhal’ harassment type way, just, uh, yah know… If you were down…”

You giggled again and nodded. “I got you, I got you… I’m down.” You erupted into nervous giggles and covered your face with your hand again. Unable to believe your own gall, you were about to dismiss your words with a quick ‘I’m joking’ but Pickles moved faster, goosing your breast with a bark of laughter.

“I’ll keep thaht in mind,” he said, seemingly to himself, his hand resting once again on your torso. You couldn’t say anything, your body alight with tingles radiating from your breast and your mind slowed, so you simply nodded against him. 

Quiet for a moment, you tried to settle your breathing while Pickles relit the joint and puffed in thought. Finally speaking up, he just said, “Seriously though, Y/N, I think you need to tell your mom to go fuck herself.”

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

This is gonna be a flashback chapter. How our babies met because I remember a few people had forgotten. Had to have one of these eventually, right?

Part 21: Introduction

Should I download Tinder?

Glee plays from the firestick, the scene where they're all walking and singing How Will I Know.

I should.

Laying cozied into the couch in a faded t'shirt with the tiniest pink shorts, your head rests on the butt cushion and your feet dangle over the arm as you hold your phone up in the air over your face.

"How will I know?.. How will I knoow..," you mumble along with the crew. You've heard the Glee version of this Whitney classic at least 8 times.

No, but what if I do and someone recognizes me? Someone I work with? What if my family is on Tinder? I'd die.

You put the phone down on your belly and pick up your apple juice from the coffee table, doing a sit up to sip.

Mm. You wipe your mouth nearly spilling. But if they're on there too then they shouldn't comment on what I'm doing, right? We'd ignore each other's presence and continue like ships passing in the night. So technically I should be able to download this app with no blowback.

Picking the phone up, you hit download and open the app. It immediately asks for your information and won't let you skip. Not even your location. You fall back down to your back raising the phone up again.

But what if someone's a serial killer?Would they look for me? No, that won't happen and I could tell if they were psychotic..

Tapping the download button, you go through the steps to set up an account including giving them access to your location and posting a headshot from a selfie. Scrolling through your gallery for more decent pics to post, you decide one's enough and upload a full body photo so that whoever meets you will know who they're meeting, no surprises.

Inputting your information, you decide to write into your blurb that you're looking for some awesome friends, specifically a movie buddy. In reality, the activity doesn't matter you just crave human attention and closeness. Any decent, polite, nice, smart, funny, left wing, hopefully attractive, young, black human.. possibly male.. will do. Not that you're picky. In the meantime, you swipe right on everyone black nearby, men and women. Somebody's gotta respond. Someone sane who wants to meet. Shockingly there are a lot of pretty people. Unfortunately the app only gives you one super like.. a blue star which you decide to save.

Giddily you head over to your match tab and see four matches. Drew P seems nice. Ashley J looks stylish. G Papa looks like he lives in a Freaknik video. Pussy Hunter is just nasty. Your nose twitches as you shamefully start conversations with all four. When neither responds right away you return to swiping and a notification says you've been super liked, but you can't access who super liked without paying money. You're not doing that so you just go back to the bios and swipe right until you get a reply.

Wyd, Pussy Hunter writes.

Bored, watching movies. You?

You gotta fat ass

Um. Thanks?

Netflix and chill?🙈

Netflix and Netflix. We can talk and hang out..

So no chill

No sex, but we can hang out and do something else

After 5 minutes, you realize he's not going to write you back. You start to swipe again on pictures, left for the whites and weirdos. Right for the black people.

Your finger hovers in the air as you gasp lightly at the thirst trap provided by a man self-identified as Erik. It deserves another sip of apple juice. You gulp it down from your cup. "Jesus.." You can't even see his face, because it's all BODY, but you can tell by the picture exactly what he's on Tinder for. Same m.o. as Pussy Hunter.

Erik S, 28

Fucc around and find out

Good Lord.. those shorts are yet holding on, you stare as if they'll slip down further by you willing them to. You swipe right. Your eyes widen as the app alerts you with a blue star meaning... He super liked your profile.

"NO," you gasp wide eyed at the phone ready to chuck it at the wall. Switching to the messages, there's a new one.. from him.. and you know what it's about. "I need some tea."

---

Erik lazed around his house bumping Schoolboy Q, clad in a white terry cloth bathrobe with a short glass of iced Ciroc and Lemonade in his hand. Dancing, he exfoliated his face with his spin brush, trimmed his mustache and beard, shaped himself up, and moisturized his locs and facial hair. The lil lip scrub he'd gotten as a gift from Cierra, he'd initially fought her on because it smelled like peaches but he liked how soft it made his lips. They even tasted good. He licked his lips for the umpteenth time tasting sugar. They tasted like Cierra.

Speaking of sugar, he looked at his phone wondering why his hoes ain't called. Then again, they could've. He wasn't near the phone all day. Checking the iPhone on the charging dock he saw that he had a missed call.. from Cierra.

Checking the time she called, he figured that was back when he was cleaning his guns and checking the parts. He'd already cleaned and sharpened his knives. He'd checked his security cameras. He felt good. Having no major responsibility and no place to be.

Outside of the missed call he had three new nudes and a video sitting in his messages to watch and record himself masturbating to. He was looking forward to doing that especially since Rell hadn't called with no bullshit local cases. Erik had stated he ain't want no hits near his temporary home.. for a year, he wanted peace. One damn year. But here he was still racking basic skills for pennies. "Chump change is still change," Rell's voice played in his ear. "You don't wanna get rusty. Gotta keep your skills sharp."

Erik had done his share of moving around, racking up international kills and earning the nickname Killmonger. But for a little while, he wanted to settle down in one concealed location where no one knew where he lived, who the fuck he was, or where he was coming or going. He wanted the illusion of peace and normality for a year at least. As much money as he had, he figured he could afford to stay in one place for that long if he was careful.

Only two people knew where he lived and that was Rell and Swift. They knew not to come over. Not even the previous owners of the house knew he was there.. because he'd made them an anonymous offer, killed them and moved in a few days after they'd sold it to him for cash. Needless to say he took all that money back.

He dialed Cierra, roaming to his bedroom to collapse over the bed as the phone rung. "Sup Ci?"

"Master," she whimpered, the desperation in her voice telling him she needed release. She'd been working too long through the past week and needed Master to come take control for a few hours. He could picture her on her knees, already in puppy space. She knew exactly how he liked her to wait for him.

"Yes, Ci. You need me to come for a scene?"

"Rrrrr," she growled. "Arf arf!"

"My bad. Lil Bitch."

"I gotta go to Target and see my sister," but come through later. I don't care how late just call up."

"Your sister? The one you met on Facebook?"

"Yeah, her! She live like an hour away. I'm a link with her and put her on Tinder! Get her a man to pop that back out," she giggles.

"You know I don't mind a two for one," Erik teased knowing she wouldn't go for it. He liked to mess with her anyway.

"Not with my damn sister, I'm not that nasty. A white girl can have it,"

"Damn crush my dream."

"Anyway!"

"Aight, I'm a let you go." Hanging up, he sat up and went to his closet pulling a colorful glass bong he'd gotten from a nigga he once knew in the military. Bruce Everett, white boy. Cool nigga... Too bad he shot hisself with his own gun. Sighing, Erik shook his head and went to the bathroom to fill it with water and headed back to pull his chrome grinder from his drawer along with a screen, hempwick, and a nug of Dr. Greenthumb's Emdog OG, grinding it down to pack the bowl making it fluff up.

"Perfect," he whispered lighting the bong with the hempwick. He lit the edges of the weed going around in a circle for an even and smooth burn as he stood taking a good long hit. "Shit," he exhaled releasing the smoke. I love bongs.

He looked and the bowl was empty as he'd expected. One hit's all you need when you do it right.

"Tinder...," he played in his mind. He already had a fetlife which was how he'd found his subs. Tinder was something different though. He was curious.

Downloading the app on the phone used almost solely for contact with subs, he went through the process of setting up an account, hesitating to put his info. It was general enough and the shit that was too specific, he could just lie. Still, he wouldn't upload his face.

So all I gotta do is swipe and see everyone in the area, he mused looking at all the faces.

"No.. No.. Nope.. Facially challenged.. The fuck is that?.. Hell nah.. Yes.. Yes.. She cute.. Hell nah.. Yes... No..," he paused looking a little closer at the screen. "Hello... Damn."

Out of curiosity he clicked on the profile. "That ass tho!"

He smirked hitting his super like.

"Shid... You can get the blue like.. Whatever the fuck that mean.." He stared at the picture. She had a juicy looking aro with thick black curls, brown skin, bright almond eyes, and enough ass to feed the needy for months. "Shit, if I was on a deserted island with coconuts and that ass.. that's enough meat for a damn.. shidd.." He chuckled. "Fuck is a super like? I super like yo ass meat..," he chuckled again falling back on his bed. "It mean I'm a break yo shit in thirds and fuck the pieces," he coughed, over his own bullshit.

---

Jumping up, you speedwalk into your kitchen and quickly heat some water in a pot, pulling a red mug and a bag of chamomile and a bag of lemon balm to mix with sugar. Combining it all, you take a sip and stand there staring at the wall before taking it with you back to the couch. "Okay," you sigh picking up the phone to open the Tinder message thread.

Cum talk to me, he says. You stare at the words. Wow, this is so cringy you don't know how to respond. You sit the phone back down taking another sip. You think about ignoring him, but you keep touching the phone, coming back to the message and staring.

Hey, you finally type hesitating at the simplicity before sending.

How are you tonight ? Why you up ?

Bored, lonely, contemplating my existence over Glee and wondering why my high school years were never that damn musical. You sip your tea.

Having a tv party with just lil ol' me. Why are you up?

The fuck kinda life you living. You need me to cum spice shit up for you? 👀

You think you that spicy? 👀

You wanna taste me and see?

Jeez. You flip back to the faceless picture of his body. Lord have mercy.

Don't play with a real one I'll show the fuck up real shit, he writes.

Internally you're screaming. He really thinks you're about to have sex with him. "I can't, oh my god," you sigh bouncing your knee. You hesitate before responding.

You can come, but bring food.

Hell yeah. Then you can be dessert. 😈

What? You turn the screen off and grab your head, your elbows on your knees.

What am I doing. Y/N what are you doing.

No sex nigga, you type before taking it back and staring at the screen perplexed. If you say that, he won't message you back.. If you don't say it, he'll be expecting to get some! You still want him to come through though even if he leaves because you're bored. You just want a little company for a little bit.

Maybe you should get a cat..

Your leg shakes unsure of how to respond and you take another sip of the hot tea mix feeling anything but calm.

Without further delay you just drop your address and hope for the best, wondering if you just signed off on your own murder. Maybe I should've told him to meet me somewhere else in the daytime.

Washing your apple juice cup, you put it away and then throw on some black leggings and rainbow fuzzy socks not wanting to open the door in pink bootyshorts adding onto the wrong message you'd already sent him. You also put a kitchen knife under the sofa cushion for easy access just in case.

40 minutes. You like wings?

Parmesan

🤢 Love yourself, sis. I'm getting a mix.

Oh I see you Mr. Petty Labelle, you smile getting a taste of his personality.

Yep. Finna get some of Ms. Petty's pie 

Uh uh, you smirk.

We nuh ave dat

That right? Guess I'll see for myself when I pull up 👅

He's a whole fool. You set the phone down smiling at the tv. Meanwhile you watch another episode.. actually watching it this time.

Knock knock, he messages and you see it having kept the thread up just in case he had an issue.  Jumping up, you snatch your phone and take a deep breath to steady your nerves. This is the first time you've ever done something like this and you hope it doesn't go badly.

Who's there, you jest messaging back right before you unlock your multiple locks and crack the door. Peeping out, you shut the door automatically throwing your body against it, holding your breath. He's huge! You didn't even look up, you just saw all that muscle like Kangaroo Jack. And why was he all up on the door?!

"Word? You must not want these wings then," he says through the door. You hear plastic rattling dramatically. "That's aight I don't mind eating em by myself."

You crack the door again, peeping out. You hadn't even seen the plastic bag hanging from his hand, you'd shut him out so fast. You reach out to grab it and he pulls it back.

"Aht! This how you treat guests? Door in the face? Snatching bags?" Your eyes roam from his hard chest to the broadness of his shoulder, resting on the sleeve of his charcoal grey Chicago Bulls shirt. Those biceps.

"Look at you undressing me in your mind already. Go ahead, you can touch me," he adds holding his arm forward as if reading your mind.  He talks a lot.

You snatch the bag and put it behind your back a bit, opening the door. Then you look up and your kitty jumps. It's the devil himself. You try to control your surprise but between his sharp narrow chestnut eyes that smirk down, his sculpted nose, and his full pouting lips, you don't know if you want to kiss him, bite him, or climb him. You wanna do all three and more right in the hall.. up against the wall. His hair too, it's a mess of semi-thick locks that point everywhere like Coolio. It's his everything really..

"Y/N.."

Omg. It sounds so good coming from him. This isn't fair.

"Aye..," he waves.

"Hm," you sigh staring at his face.

"You gone let me in?"

"Huh? Oh." You step back quickly and scan him from head to toe as he steps across the threshold. Bulls shirt, black track pants, black sneakers. His shoes are ugly though, the back heel juts out too far. Balenciaga is written in white. Oh.

You look up and see he's looking you up and down too. Oop. Leading the way you take him to the living room and he settles on the couch, his develish eyes on yours. His knees spread wide as he leans back, hips forward.

Silently screaming, you look away and sit the plastic food bag on the table.

You can feel him staring. The air is full of raunchy expectation and you can't say you blame him. You practically encouraged it on the phone.

"You want something to drink," you smile in friendly attempt, risking a glance and it's just as you thought.

"You know exactly what I want."

"To DRINK," you exphasize, ignoring the thump of your heart in your nana as his eyes roll over your hips.

"Mmm... You got Henny?"

"I have apple juice, tea, water.."

"Ciroc?"

Your face screws, Didnt I just-- "I don't drink.."

"Ever?"

You shake your head.

"Damn, Apple Juice."

Taking your sweet time to pour his juice and refill your tea, you re-enter the living room as the Glee cast kicks off another song that he mutes.

"Here ya go."

You give him his cup and feel the chill in your spine as his fingertips brush yours. Unmuting the tv, you sit on the opposite side of the couch, legs crossed, tense and unsure of what to say to him now that he's there.

"You look uncomfortable."

"Me? I'm fine. I was just marathoning Glee before you came," you say handing him the remote, "I've already seen it though."

He hands the remote back. "You seen Menace II Society?"

"I've heard the title!"

"Well pull it up, let's watch it."

Thank God. That's something easy. You fumble through buttons and he starts opening the food as you set up the movie.

---

"Ooh Laurenz Tate he so fine," she smiled sitting up as the movie started. She would be into his ass. Erik rolled his eyes. Wait for it.

"I hate when they do that," she mumbled in response to the Asian woman following them around the store.

"Yeah," he agreed with swig of the juice looking from the tv to her face, watching her reaction. Wait for it.

"Why don't you give my homeboy his change," O-Dog says before walking to the door. "I feel sorry for your mother," the store owner snubs.

Bitch, don't talk about my mama. That part always pissed Erik off.

"What you say about my mama? You feel sorry for who?!" O-Dog shouts. "I don't want any trouble, just get out," the shopowner shouts, backtracking like the bitch nigga he is.

Fuck that, shoot his bitchass, Erik barked in his head. POP. POP POP. POP. POP. There you go! He shot the wife too, meanwhile, the princess jumped in her seat, absorbed in the felony she just observed on screen. Double-homicide.

"He shouldn't have shot them.. Bruh, now the cops gone be looking for him and his friend wasn't even in it but now he's an accomplice."

"You telling me you wouldn't have shot a nigga talkin shit on your mama?" Erik leaned into her space, curious, but she ain't seem to notice.

"No, 'cause they're rude, ugly, and racist but still. You can't kill without consequences."

Erik steeled. She wasn't wrong.

"I'd have shot his ass too," he admitted watching her. She didn't seem to agree. "Should've kept his mouth off his family."

"You close to your family," she asked suddenly.

"Yeah," he lied knowing his people were dead. "...You mind if I get more juice," he pointed to his cup and she took it refilling it.

Fifteen minutes into the movie, she noticed her wing choice wasn't in the selection and Erik kept a poker face having wondered when she'd realize. He'd already started on the barbecue.

"Where's my parmesan," she frowned looking in the boxes.

"They ain't have it," he lied. "Ran out."

"You're such a liar. Now what am I gonna eat," she pouted to his humor.

"Eat the carribean jerk," he nudged the box to her. She eyed it and he felt like a wolf trapping a rabbit, the wings being the bait.

"I ask you for one thing."

"Yeah and? I wasn't finna buy that shit," he chuckled grabbing a jerk wing and biting it, closing his eyes and humming as he chewed to entice her. When he peeked, she was watching his mouth out the corner of her eye as he licked spicy sauce off his thumb. Sliding down in the cushion, she crossed her arms and raised a knee with her fuzzy foot on the couch. Such a damn brat. Ol' hungry ass.

He started to flex the length of his tongue since she was looking but decided against it. He couldn't be too aggressive or she'd spook and he wouldn't get no ass. Why he cared, he couldn't put a finger on other than the fact that she'd become a challenge. This girl would not let him anywhere near her. She was very shy considering she was down for a one night stand. I'm getting the draws, he promised himself right then. How? He just had to make her come to him.

Her nose wrinkled as she picked up a jerk wing, rotating it.

"Girl eat the wing, this ain't rocket science," he fussed watching her bite it.

"It's better than parmesan?" Lie, he dared watching her closely.

She took another bite.. then she attacked the wing and when she licked her fingers, he looked away grabbing another wing and swig of his juice.

"OKAY. SHUT UP." She grabbed another wing chewing through it as he coughed in his elbow hiding his laugh.

"I didn't say anything," he croaked shrugging her off.

"But you smiling and I can hear you thinking."

He couldn't hide the fat grin plastered on his face though he'd tried by looking away. "How you hear me thinking," he squinted watching her collect bones.

"Because I do, you're loud," she stressed.

"How I'm l-"

"SHH!! I'm tryna hear," she whispered. He shook his head watching the corner of her mouth lift and they watched the movie in silence until she reached for another wing and all the jerk were gone. He pushed her another box.

"You all the way over there. Come sit next to me."

"I'm not that far."

"You are. I promise I won't bite you.."

Her eyes rolled.

"Not unless you into that shit," he added patting the cushion beside him. She lifted, barely moving. "You scared?"

"What you mean?" She looked nervous all of a sudden looking anxiously in his eyes. This was gonna be a tough wall to break.

He patted the cushion again, waiting, and she finally moved in closer filling the empty seat beside him. He determined right then not to touch her but to get as close as possible maintaining proximity to get her used to his presence. Draping an arm over the couch behind her, he observed silently as she sat tense for the the next five minutes before relaxing. He had his work cutout.

@soufcakmistress @itsiesha @ju5tp34chy @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @blackpantherimagines @blackpinup22 @muse-of-mbaku @goddessofthundathighs @panthergoddessbast @thadelightfulone @misspooh @marvelmaree @youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe   @texasbama @gingerylimonte @princessstevens   @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku @purplehairgawdess @indigoxsummers @cccccx1   @dynastylnoire @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @they-call-me-le @theblulife @raysunshine78 @sheisexcellent-blog

[stabbylambchop]

okay I’m interested in getting your wife to like Trager part lmao, I’ve had so many characters I like but my partner hates them lmao, how do you do it?

HAHAHAHAHA YAAAAS MY LEGACY, LOL

Honestly we'd already been kinda into Outlast for a bit, I really liked Eddie and wife would tease me about it (as any good partner does), so I was like "hmm...which one of these fuckos would be wife's type?"

We would (and sometimes do) fall asleep to Markiplier's playthrough of Outlast/Whistleblower, and he gets to the part with Trager and I'm like "yknow...he does have a nice voice, interesting features, a GREAT ass, charming personality...yeah, I can make this work," and then I would point that shit out, casually, anytime we watched it.

It honestly didn't take too long after that; I know her type, and it's usually a blonde, chaotic beanpole with very questionable morals. Trager's like that, but make it Batshit Doctor, lol.

Outlast has been one of our longest-running mutual fandoms since moving in with yet, and this tiny lil thing is now an AU, complete with hurt/comfort, oc/self-insert x canon shipping, one of those characters originally from a different game/implied-crossover, marriage, pets, children, BFF neighbors, the works.

Somehow everytime we get into something, now matter how fucked/grimdark/zany/etc, we manage to make it Domestic. Like for real, we have some fanart I drew squirreled away of our oc x canon families, LOL.

Thank you for asking, BTW! We LOVE Outlast, it actually helped us get closer and kept us going thru homelessness. I wish you luck on converting them, lmao👌 😂

[hopelikethemoon]

Soul || (Ezra x Reader) || Moonbeams

Title: Soul Rating: PG-13 Length: 4,300 Warnings: Mild angst  Notes: Why am I always so nervous to post every chapter? Part nine of the Moonbeams series.

Taglist: @princessbatears @djarin-junk @absurdthirst @hdlynn @legally-a-bastard @opheliaelysia @heather-lynn @sabinemorans @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @pedrospunk @maybege @chews-erotically @katlikeme @lose-eels @youmeanmybrain @theindiealto @irishleesh93 @seawhisperer @hdlynn @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @theindiealto @grapemama @roxypeanut @kochamcie @kiwi-the-first @hellomothermoon @soft-fanfics @spacegayofficial @storiesofthefandomloversreblogs @kindablackenedsuperhero @goblinqueen95 @nominalnebula @wheresthewater​ @letmybabysleep @hayley-the-comet​ @corrupt-fvcker​ @i-ship-it-ironically​ Hopefully I got everyone! Please message me to be added, comments to be added get lost in my activity. 

Ezra idly slid his fingers in between yours, his chest a firm presence at your back as he molded his body around yours. He had barely left your side since you came back from your brush with the guardians. 

“What was it like?”

“Hmm?” You questioned, tilting your head to look back at him. 

“Death.”

“Oh.” You frowned as you considered his question, watching your fingers as he played with them. “Cold and then warm.”

“Warm?” Ezra pressed his lips to the back of your shoulder. 

You exhaled slowly, searching for the right words to explain all of it to him. “It was cold and dark and then there were… stars. Falling all around me.”

He hummed softly against your shoulder, “That’s unexpected.”

“And I don’t know if that was even what death was. I can’t remember which came first. If the nothingness was before I woke up… or after.” You stretched your legs out before rolling over to face him. “Do you believe me?”

Ezra’s dark eyes searched yours for a moment before answering, “I believe that it is possible that you died and were revived. I can’t deny the potential, given my own curse.”

You reached out to trace your thumb over the curved scar on his cheek. “I should go back to the Block for the next full moon. I know I’m safe with you, but I also know that Shiva is likely losing their mind with my absence.”

He chuckled, “Do you think Shiva will believe you?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” You shrugged, “They’ll probably force me to see a medic. Check me for concussions.” You turned your palm over to look at the healing cut. “I’ve just got a self-inflicted stab wound and a handful of someone’s fingerprints.”

Ezra scratched at the back of his ear, “I have recently found that it is impossible to be overzealous when it comes to you-almost-died sex.” 

“I think it’s more oh-shit-you-died sex.” You corrected, tapping your finger against his nose.

He caught your hand and rubbed his thumb gently over the spot just above your healing palm. “Touché.” 

“Why do you do that?”

“Hmm?” Ezra’s brows knit together.

“I just remembered that when I was lost in the darkness, I recalled the way you rubbed my palm.” 

“Ah.” He smiled fondly at you, “When I was wee lad, I used to be frightfully afraid when we’d leave orbit.” Ezra explained. “My mother used to take my hand like so,” He took hold of your hand. “And rub her thumb over the center of my palm to remind me that she wasn’t going anywhere.”

You smiled at him, “I like that.” 

He cocked his head to the side, “I like you.” 

“Read to me.” You murmured as you leaned in to kiss him. 

“And force me from my comfortable position?” Ezra huffed dramatically, even as he drew back the covers and moved to get out of the bed. 

You tucked your arm beneath your head and watched the muscles in his back move with him, as he went to look over your stack of books. 

“I’ll bring back more honeysticks.” You told him, “And perhaps track down the nonpareils you mentioned.”

“You feed into my sweet tooth,” He taunted, looking back at you. “When the sweetest thing of all is laying tangled up in our sheets.” 

“Our sheets?” You gave him a look. “I do believe I bargained these sheets out of a vendor on Phthalcol.” 

Ezra smirked, looking back at the books once more. He snatched one up and flipped through the pages. “Is that so?” 

“So smug.” You rolled your eyes. “I let you sleep in my bed for a handful of nights and now it’s our bed?”

“Aren’t our ships connected now?” He questioned, not looking back at you yet. 

“In theory.”

“Ah-ha!” Ezra licked his thumb before turning the page, reading it as he turned back towards you. “I knew I recalled seeing Herrick in this collection. An often forgotten fellow, you know.”

“I don’t know if I’m well versed in him.” 

“He was rather fond of the Greek poet Anacreon.” Ezra informed you, giving you an expectant look. 

“Wine, women, and…” You racked your brain for the third attribute. 

“Song.” 

“Are you going to sing now?”

Ezra rolled his eyes, “Though poetry could be song, in theory.” He shrugged his shoulders, “He was a hit of a religious poet too, back when society was limited in their dieistic notions.” 

“What have you picked to read?”

He stared at you for a long moment before clearing his throat and focusing on the page. “How love came in, I do not know, whether by th’ eye, or eare, or no. Or whether with the soule it came, at first, infused with the same. Whether in part ‘tis here or there, or, like the soule, whole everywhere. This troubles me, but as I well as any other, this can tell. That when from hence she does depart, the outlet then is from the heart.” 

“Herrick certainly knew what he was talking about,” You said gently as you smiled back at Ezra. “I’m glad we said it, more or less, before everything happened.” You told him as you sat up, picking at the edge of your blanket. “It wasn’t said because something happened.” 

Ezra nodded slowly, shutting the book closed as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “Have you ever been in love before?”

“If you ask Shiva, I’m always falling in love.” You told him, lifting your gaze a little. “But twice. I think. It wasn’t like this.” You gestured between the two of you. 

“I always avoided it,” Ezra admitted quietly, reaching out to brush his fingers down your bare arm. “Skirted close, but never too close. These past five years made me realize how much I missed out on — thinking only of myself.” 

“Being open isn’t worth it,” You told him, shaking your head. “You usually get burnt. Bad.” 

“I’m assuming you’re referring to Mars and Alia?” 

“I don’t even want to get into Alia, but…” You pursed yourself lips. “Mars was very charming. Very charming.” You kept your eyes on the blanket beneath your fingers. “I fell headfirst into that dreamboat.” You snorted. “Lots of pretty words that amounted to — ‘you have a sweet connection with the head of Fiorta Corp. and that’s all this was about.’ Asshole.” 

“I’m sorry.” Ezra kept skimming his fingers over your arm. 

“Fortunately, I found out before I could’ve been foolish enough to get myself trapped into becoming his third wife. One and two actually warned me about his plans.” 

He hummed curiously, “It sounds like you were leading quite the adventurous life.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Are you sure you want to tie yourself to me?”

“Too late.” You reached out and tousled your fingers through his hair. “I much prefer this arrangement. For so many reasons.”

“Inquiring minds would like to know.” Ezra drawled out lazily as he reclined back on the bed. 

“Fishing for compliments?” You grinned as you settled back against him. 

He rested his chin in your shoulder, winding his arms around your middle. “Always.” 

You traced your fingertips over the back of his hand, sliding your fingers in between his. “I feel like it has to mean something that it didn’t work. They were able to wipe Sybil and Cora from Proctor’s mind, but.. they couldn’t pull you out of me.” 

Ezra fanned his fingers out on your stomach, before skimming upwards to rest at the curve of your ribs. “It certainly begs the question of why.” He nuzzled at the crook of your neck. “Is that the only reason?”

You snorted, reaching back to tug at his hair. “There’s also the fact that you’re handsome, smart, and humorous. But if we’re being honest, it was the books.” 

“I figured.” He chuckled, his breath warm against your shoulder. “I meant what I said, moonbeam. I’m not letting you go.” 

“I would be disappointed if you did.”

Ezra pressed another kiss to your skin. “I know at first I tried to convince you to leave, but I’m glad you chose to ignore me.”

“I’m stubborn by default.” You tilted your face towards him with a cheeky grin. 

His lips parted to say something, but a sudden bang at your transport door made you jump. 

“What the fuck?” You questioned, climbing out of his lap to find your clothes. 

“Stay here.” Ezra growled, his entire body going rigid as he snatched up his shirt and pulled it on over his head. 

Someone knocked — again. 

“Lock the door. Don’t open it.” He told you, turning to face you as you followed him towards the threshold. 

You reached out and grabbed his hand, rubbing your thumb over the center of his palm as you held his gaze. “Please be safe.”

They knocked again. 

Ezra leaned in and kissed you, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered, swallowing thickly as he pulled away from you. You watched him as he walked backwards towards the knocking. 

You hit the button on the wall, the door sliding closed and locking shut. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you pressed yourself against the cool durasteel and tried to listen through it. It was muffled and almost impossible to hear — but the knocking stopped. 

And everything fell silent.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. The faded memory of the guardians still loomed over your thoughts. The man had reminded you of a statue — chiseled features and sharp eyes. Towering over you like a deadly beast in a man’s form. 

If they were the first creatures on Lykaios, there was no knowing what skill they had beyond Ezra’s abilities. 

You could barely hear the muffled sound of Ezra’s voice on the other side of the door, alongside a pair of voices that didn’t bode well for either of you. 

There was a shuffle of feet against durasteel, the whirr of the exterior shutting close, a slightly raised voice, and movement drawing closer to you. 

You had nowhere to go. 

“Moonbeam,” Ezra called out through the door. “It’s safe. Open the door. Your friends have made an appearance.” 

You pressed the release button on the wall, watching as the door unlocked and slid into the threshold. On the other side stood Ezra, flanked by Shiva and Quinn. 

“What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” Shiva shot back as they stepped forward to grab you. “I thought you were dead.” 

You wrapped your arms around them, looking over their shoulder at Ezra who was sizing himself up against Quinn. Quinn had a few inches on him and it was entertaining to see him try to make himself seem more imposing. 

“A lot has happened,” You told Shiva as you pulled back. “I didn’t make it back this time. Sorry for worrying you.”

“You even got me nervous,” Quinn remarked, looking between you and Ezra. “Is he always so bristly?” 

Your eyes flickered towards Ezra, when you heard him growl. “Hey. No.” You glared at Quinn. “Knock it off.” 

“Are you going to officially introduce us?” Shiva questioned as they took a step back, giving you a cheeky grin as they looked towards Ezra. “He just leered at us and told us we smelt like humans.” 

“Jury’s out on this one.” Ezra huffed, looking at Quinn briefly before stepping through the threshold and circling towards you. You didn’t need him to say he was uncomfortable — it was perfectly clear by the way his back was rigid and his jaw was set hard.

“Ezra, this is Shiva.” You said, trailing your fingers down the back of his arm gently as you gestured towards Shiva. “You’ve already heard all of my stories about my stalwart friend.” 

Shiva shook his hand with an arched brow, “I’ve heard plenty about you too.” They gave him a sweeping once over. “Trying to steal our girl.” 

You rolled your eyes, “And this is Quinn.”

Quinn offered his hand, but Ezra refused to shake it in return. “I don’t like this any more than you do.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Ezra huffed, reaching down to take your hand into his, interlacing his fingers with yours. 

“Why don’t we take this conversation out of our quarters.” You said, shooing them out of the room. 

“Our?” Shiva arched a brow at you, before starting ahead down the corridor with Quinn. 

Ezra tugged you to a stop, “Moonbeam.” 

You turned back towards him, “I know this is difficult for you.” You reached out and brushed your fingers over his cheek. 

He hung his head and gave a slight nod. “I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to be the most hospitable of guests. Particularly where he is involved.” Ezra sighed heavily, “Their arrival was unexpected, to say the least.”

You glanced down the corridor where you could hear the two of them laughing about something Shiva had said. “I didn’t even think that they would come here if I didn’t turn up.” You admitted, “I probably should’ve seen that coming, but it slipped my mind.”

Ezra touched your chin, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “I think that’s understandable. And they clearly care for you and your well-being.” He held your gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Your brows furrowed as you searched his eyes. 

“My rabid jealousy.” Ezra’s eyes darted down the corridor. “I recognize it’s foolish.” 

You leaned in and kissed him, letting your lips linger there. “It’s okay, Ezra.” You brushed a lock of hair behind his ear. “Just don’t try to kill him.”

“Tempting.” 

“Are you two coming to join us?” Quinn called out. “Or was that a ploy to get a little alone time?”

“We’ll be right there.” You called back, smiling at Ezra. “You’re better at being sociable than you think. You were a perfect gentleman with Sybil and Cora.”

“Entirely different scenario.” He pointed out. “Neither of them desired you.” 

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “Point taken.” 

Ezra stole another kiss, before taking ahold of your hand and starting back down the corridor towards the living area. 

Quinn was sprawled out on the makeshift sofa, tossing a stress ball into the air above him. “Do you think he likes fetc— Hello.” He jerked upright into a seated position. 

Shiva stifled a laugh. “Good job, Quinn.” They looked back towards Ezra. “I’ve always thought he’d go down greasy. He’s not worth eating.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Ezra smirked, before gesturing for Quinn to get off the sofa who was quick to follow suit. 

“I had every intention of coming back to the Block, but things got out of hand here.” You explained as you settled onto the sofa beside Ezra. “Really out of hand.”

“Well, now you’re going to have to tell us.” Shiva gave you an expectant look. “I won’t judge you if you got distracted.”

“I wish it were that simple.” You picked a bit of dirt out of your thumbnail as you kept your eyes lowered to your lap. “It’s actually rather convoluted.” 

Ezra ran his hand down the length of your spine reassuringly. 

You rubbed your lips together, chewing at the inside of your bottom lip as you looked up at Shiva. “You’re just going to have to trust me on this one,” You said, “Lykaios has more secrets than we were aware of. Before the full moon, I was taken by the… I guess we’ll call them the Guardians. They were the first here on Lykaios, allegedly.”

Quinn cleared his throat, “If I may interject.” 

Ezra worked his jaw slowly as he glared at Quinn. “Do you know something?”

He nodded, “Shiva and I continued to do research after you left. Everything’s in my shuttle and you’re both welcome to it.” He leaned back against the wall, holding his arms across his chest. “There were three, I believe. Callisto, Dia, and Psophis. Arcadia has rivers named for each of them.”

You cocked your head to the side, “I encountered Callisto and Dio.” 

“Hmm.” Quinn rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The rivers were named for the children of an old god. Descendants of the nymphs of the sea, so they say.” 

“I see you’re clever,” Ezra remarked with an edge of annoyance. 

Quinn shrugged, “Yes, well… the common denominator between us happens to surround herself with clever friends.”

“I can’t deny that,” You leaned into Ezra’s side. “That’s more than we knew before, so thank you for that.” You offered Quinn a small smile. “They are apparently the originators of the curse and… they tried to get rid of me the same way they got rid of Proctor.”

“Which is?” Shiva questioned. 

“They killed me and attempted to wipe my memories of Ezra. They didn’t succeed, clearly.”

“Back up, they killed you?” They leaned forward. “You should see a medic. You can’t just stay here when you could have something seriously wrong with you.”

“I told you.” You glanced sideways at Ezra. “Look, Shiva… I’m okay. I’ll see the medic when I go back to the Block in a few days.” 

“How do you know you died?” Quinn asked skeptically. 

“I just know.” You said sharply. “I know how I felt and what I saw.”

“She smells different, too.” Ezra offered, shifting beside you. “I can’t put my finger on what’s changed, but she smells like more.”

“You weren’t kidding about the smelling thing, were you?” Shiva laughed, shaking their head. “I definitely wasn’t expecting to find out that you died while you were away.”

Quinn snorted, “You were convinced she was dead.” 

“Only because she didn’t show up.”

“It’s been a blur,” You admitted. “We only had a few days between my kidnapping and the full moon and with how my mind was at the time…”

Ezra cut in, “We thought it was best that she stay here. Just in case whatever they did wasn’t fully out of her system.” 

Quinn frowned, “What do you mean how your mind was?”

“Is, really. Things are still spotty.” You gave an awkward laugh at that. “I would forget things. I’m still not entirely certain of things that happened that first month here.” 

“You remember Ay-7?”

“Quinn.” Shiva snapped and Ezra’s hand tightened at your waist instinctively. 

“Really?”

Quinn held up his hands in mock defense. “Just checking on where we stand.” 

You glared at him. “Not good.”

He snapped his fingers and nodded, “I figured.” 

Shiva rose from their seat, moving to sit on the cargo crate in front of the sofa, “I came with Quinn, so if you want a co-pilot back to the Block you’ve got me.”

“I might actually take you up on that.” You smiled, reaching out to give their shoulder a squeeze. “With everything you told me about people losing their minds when they leave Lykaois I’ve been nervous about leaving.” 

“Just,” Ezra started, his voice wavering a little. “Send her back to me.” 

Shiva tilted their head to the side as they looked at him then, “As long as you agree to send her back to me from time-to-time.” 

“There’s enough of me to go around,” You assured both of them, before holding up a hand to keep Quinn from commenting. “Not enough for you though.”

“You wound me.” Quinn shot back with a wicked smirk. “There used to be more than enough for me.”

Ezra leaned forward on the sofa and Quinn shuffled an inch further away from the three of you. “That’s what I thought.” 

“There’s too much testosterone in here.” You muttered and Shiva started laughing. 

“I think there’s too much Quinn here.” 

He scoffed, “You’re the one who dragged me along for the ride.”

“Because your shuttle’s fast.” Shiva rolled their eyes. “Don’t act like you weren’t worried for her.” 

“I’ll own up to that.” Quinn shrugged. 

“So, what other information did you find out about the moon?” 

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, “I put a few feelers out. Expressed some interest in launching my own mining team into Lykaois. Got a few bites, but they didn’t fully materialize before we disembarked.” 

“What exactly do you deal in?” Ezra questioned with a slight edge to his tone.

“What do you need me to deal in?” Quinn retorted. “I’m a man of many skills. Our dear friend is aware of that.” 

Ezra exhaled slowly through his nose, “I’m assuming if you call Ay-7 home, you’re not dealing in legal ventures?”

Quinn gave a short laugh, “You’re forgetting that I’ve seen your files. Quite the body count.” 

“Was I casting aspersions?” He countered, keeping his eyes fixed on Quinn. “Was I?” He looked towards you then. 

“It was definitely implied.” You smiled a little, nudging him in the ribs. “Quinn’s a bit of a jack-of-all-trades. His latest venture was a dust enterprise he ran into the ground. Before that he used to run fake licenses business for those that washed out of the program.”

“Some company you keep.” Ezra smirked, with a teasing tone. “Useful though.”

Quint puffed himself up, “I can be very useful.” 

“Quit peacocking.” Shiva warned him, before grabbing their satchel up off the floor. “I forgot to mention I brought goodies. I figured if you’d missed coming back to the Block, you’d need supplies.” 

You scooted forward to the edge of the sofa to peer into their bag, “Are those honeysticks?”

Shiva grinned, “I figured you’d need your magic beast taming treats.” 

“Hilarious,” Ezra remarked wryly, holding his hand out for one. 

Shiva popped the box open and passed him one of the sticks. “I don’t get the appeal, but I respect it.” 

He tore off the end of the stick and sucked at it as he sank back against the sofa. “I believe they call it creature comforts.” Ezra stated.

“What else did you bring?” You questioned, grabbing the satchel away from them. “You were so worried about my well-being that you stopped by the bakery for fruli pies?” 

“I can be magnanimous when I feel like it.” Shiva retorted, watching as you turned towards Ezra to show him the mini pies you loved. “I figured I should satisfy both of your sweet tooth needs.” 

“What are they?” Ezra questioned, examining them curiously. “Are those berries?”

You nodded, “A sweet flaky pastry with a berry concoction in the middle. They keep for weeks.” 

“She’s always been fond of stocking up and hiding them around the transport before long missions.” Shiva pointed out. 

“Only because I’ll eat them all day one if I don’t.” You laughed, popping the package open to grab one. You took a bite with a satisfied moan, before passing it to Ezra. “Here.”

He took the bite from your fingers, chewing it thoughtfully before smirking, “I see why they need to be hidden around the ship.”

“Right?” You grinned. “We eat a lot of berries that grow here. There’s even some decent ones that are winter berries.”

“I haven’t been venturing out,” Ezra admitted. “So we’ve leaned on her ready-to-eat meals.”

“Cardboard and iron.” You scrunched up your nose. “I was going to bring more when I come back after the next full moon.”

“Are you not leaving the ship?” Quinn questioned.

“I don’t want to risk her being found again.” Ezra stated. “We were careful about coming back from my transport. There’s a chance the guardians will try to hurt her again.”

You snapped your fingers and shot finger guns at Ezra, “Not looking to die again this soon.”

Quinn frowned, “So you really died?” 

“It was a whole ordeal.” You licked some of the berry juice off your thumb. “But I’m okay now. I think.”

“Please let the medic check you over.” He said gently. “That can’t be good for you. I am worried about you… as a friend.”

You rolled your eyes, “As long as we’re clear on that.” You looked back to Shiva then. “What else did you bring?”

“Well, I was picturing you chewed up and spit out by a beast, so I brought you new clothes.”

“I’ll take those anyways.” You took the clothes from them. “I appreciate how committed you were to rescuing me.” 

They shrugged, “At rare times I’ve found I can be a good friend. Just consider all of this added on to what you owe me for cheating me out of this haul.” 

“Figures.” You snorted.

“Not to run you off so soon,” Ezra started with a polite tone. “But depending on where your transport is parked, you should start back before nightfall.” 

You nodded, “It’s not safe to be out there right now. We still don’t know what the guardians—“

Shiva laughed, “You just want to get back to whatever we interrupted. I saw what a mess your bed was.”

“This is so much worse than I imagined.” You grumbled, covering your face. “In all sincerity, this is out of concern. After what they did to me, I don’t want either of you dealing with it.” 

Quinn pushed off the wall, “I don’t want anyone rearranging my head.” He clapped his hands together, “Come on Shiva, let’s get out of the lover bird’s hair. I’m sure you’ll get all the gossip when you head back to the Block.” 

“Come by in the morning.” You smiled at them. 

“Not too early.” Ezra tacked on. “I like my sleep.” 

Shiva winked at him, before turning towards Quinn. “Let’s get out of here.” 

You lingered in the living area as Ezra saw them out of the transport. Shiva had left their bag behind, filled with a handful of other goodies they had brought for you. Everything you would’ve needed if something had gone wrong. 

Despite how often the two of you were at each other’s necks, at least they were your one true friend. Through thick and thin… and falling in love with a werewolf. They stood by you. 

[jessie-writes-things]

Against that time

So, fun fact about lil' Jessie; I used to be obsessed with Peter Pan as a kid. Like, three Halloweens in a row I dressed up as different characters (pretty sure my dad has a photo of me and my brother as Peter and Hook somewhere 😅). Anyway, I used to write a ton of pirate stories, mostly about Hook and this female pirate with who he had a love-hate friendship. So, I dug that back up from my memory, and voila! 😂

Sorry this is a bit vague, it's my first time writing anything pirate-related for a while and as my mate said 'this movie really went and fucked up Hook for us.' 😂 Still love the film for the chaos though.

Pairing: James Hook x Pirate Reader

Words: 500

Genre: soft angst

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, and stabbings.

For @justagirlwithhercat

Poem minis masterlist

Against that time, if ever that time come, When I shall see thee frown on my defects, When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum, Called to that audit by advis'd respects; Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass, And scarcely greet me with that sun, thine eye, When love, converted from the thing it was, Shall reasons find of settled gravity; Against that time do I ensconce me here, Within the knowledge of mine own desert, And this my hand, against my self uprear, To guard the lawful reasons on thy part: To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws, Since why to love I can allege no cause.

- Sonnet 49 by William Shakespeare

***

My dear, it seems that I have fallen somewhat in love with you.

Your mother used to say a lack of love is how story villains were made. A lack of love made the heart go cold, and a heart of stone was a weight that could not be carried lightly.

And you would laugh at her words. Little naïve, bright-eyed you not knowing any better about the world. Evil had yet to get its hands on your warm blooded heart.

But like all good things, love didn’t last forever.

The night he was stolen was the night your heart died, crystalised as a reminder of better days and you didn’t cry or scream or plead for a childhood long forgotten, a love that would never have a chance to blossom.

You pierced the man right in the chest from behind, left side, fourth and fifth rib. He didn’t stand a chance, didn’t hear you coming and now his blood dripped down your blade, glistening in the moonlight as it spilled onto the solid oak deck beneath your feet.

And then there was nothing. No scream. No plead. No damn note like you had hoped and you were stranded at another dead end once again.

You drew back the sword and cleaned off the blood of the ten men wilted at your feet. Silence ticked by slowly, sitting in the dark as you waited for another ship to fly by.

The skies had been busier recently, you realised. Word spread quick about the death of the all-great Blackbeard, turning Neverland back on its legs. First the kidnappings had stopped, then the pillages and thefts subsided. Apart from the odd pirate or minging man trying to try his luck, there was no more use for people to continue hiding.

Not that you could say you were much better. Death had been following you for a while, always lurking in the cold shadows waiting to take your next victim. Just, yours was a more worthy treasure, no gold or jewels could compare to the petals that haunted your dreams.

The ship rolled in slowly, moon low with the threat of sunrise soon. You hid in the shadows until you were sure no one would see, dropping onto the quarterdeck as it swung by.

Something didn’t feel right. Things were too quiet, too still for a boat that buzzed with energy. One step forward and you stepped right into their trap, cursing yourself for being so foolish as you met the threat of your fate positioned frontside, fourth and fifth rib.

‘Well, well…’ the sound shot through you, sharp and quick and your heart wasn’t the only thing that was frozen still, ‘So you’re the pirate that’s been hopping around, huh? How many have you killed tonight?’

You stare the blade at eyes shaded the blue of the forget-me-nots. James Hook, more subdued than the little boy you once knew. And when he smiled your heart stuttered a beat.

I’m sorry I never found the time to tell you.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.18 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch has already dealt with the local sheriff about his adventures in the local woods. Seems like Edge might have a thing or three to say.

~~*~~

Read ‘Electric Boogaloo’ on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was funny how some things become automatic. Stretch was still thinking about Buford when Edge came into the store not long after the sheriff left. Still thinking about those strange white eyes of his, wondering at exactly how much he could see. How much, how far, how deep did it go. Stretch knew a little something himself about seeing a bit too much.

Still, habits were habits. Even though his mind wasn’t necessarily working in the here and now, Stretch automatically stood up straight and greeted Edge when he came in, customer service skills were a heck of a learned trait, even if he was the only one who worked here that had them.

“morning, hey, what’s up? what do you—" need, he didn’t get to say. He barely had time to notice that Edge didn’t look like his normal gorgeous self, hips notwithstanding. Sure, he was wearing his normal motorhuckle gear and he was walking like he was on his way to kill Captain America. But he looked pale, his skull chalk-white and stark, his eye lights faded to a shade closer to dull pink.

That wasn’t what cut off his ‘can i help you’ spiel. Nope, that was Edge stalking right over to the counter and around it into the register area. Stretch found himself roughly pulled into Edge’s arms and held in a painfully tight hug that nearly threatened to crack ribs.

Okay? This was new but fuck it if Stretch wasn’t going to go for it. He wrapped both arms around Edge and squeezed back, relished the feel of that long, lean body against his own, even buffered under a layer of leather. “um. hi?”

Edge said nothing, only held on, with all ten fingers digging in through the back of Stretch’s t-shirt and damned if he was gonna try fight his way loose. Was it his imagination or was Edge shaking a little? Or maybe that was the earth moving under his feet because Edge smelled so good, no bone cologne could compare. Like spice and woodsmoke, like the heavenly pies he made for Mama’s.

Nothing to be done for it, might as well dive into the deep end and see if he could drown. Stretch closed his sockets and basked in it, reveled in it. Maybe this was some weird frosting on top of an already bizarre cake but Stretch really wanted his slice.

After a minute, Edge was showing no signs of letting up and much as Stretch would’ve been perfectly fine standing like this all day, probably he should say something. It’d be pretty hard to run register if he was stuck to Edge like a conjoined twin and considering that they were sort of the same person, maybe better not to risk it.

It was just a damn shame that Stretch was so shitty at digging beneath the layers of other people’s traumas. Hell, he could barely take a shovel to his own.

He managed to work up enough air to wheeze out, “is…something wrong?” A horrible thought occurred. What if he wasn’t the only person the lady ghoul went to visit last night? Maybe she took the nickel tour of the woods, maybe Buford’s all-seeing eye blinked and missed something. “is frisk okay?”

“Yes,” Edge choked out. His voice was muffled into Stretch’s shoulder. “Everything is fine.”

Stretch shifted in his arms and only managed about an inch in any direction. “don’t take this the wrong way, but as fine as this feels, you don’t seem fine.”

That didn’t get any reply. Instead, Edge loosened his grip just enough to press his face into the hollow of Stretch’s collarbone where he inhaled deeply, mouth opened as if he wanted to taste whatever scent gathered there, get the whole experience.

Um. Holy shit. Okay, well, that was a fetish Stretch never knew he had, and if he wasn’t pinned like a sardine in Edge’s kung-fu grip, he might’ve honest to angel flailed at the feel of damp, hot breath against his clavicles. Every time Edge decided to go through his scratch ‘n sniff routine, it sent willie wonkers tingling right up his spine and right down his pants. All he could do was grit his teeth and stare blankly up at the ceiling as he tried desperately not to embarrass himself any more than the usual.

Finally, all too soon, Edge drew away. He took two steps back, putting some distance between them. He seemed almost embarrassed now and Stretch could only reluctantly let him go.

He was really, really grateful for his work apron right about now; good for catching dust and gook, with a side bonus of hiding inconvenient boners. Hopefully it wasn’t the not-at-all-a-pencil-in-his-pocket that chased Edge away. “not that i mind, like, really not, but you think you could let me in on what that was all about?”

“I’m sorry,” Edge said, stiffly. He crammed his hands into his jacket pockets and looked anywhere but at Stretch.

“uh, nope,” Stretch shook his head, “no apologies, hugs are free real estate.” He’d been this close to Edge before a couple of times but always before there had been distractions. Now looking at him was the distraction and Stretch let his gaze linger on the razer-sharp lines of his cheekbones, the tight narrowing of his eye sockets. The crack that ran through his left socket was obviously old, the edges worn relatively smooth, smoother than their owner.

Edge still didn’t look at him, not directly, anyway. A flick of his eye lights towards Stretch, then back away as he said, tightly. “We came very close to losing you last night. It was…upsetting.”

Oh.

Well, good news traveled fast, didn’t it, basically at the speed of light around these parts. He wondered glumly if Red was in his apartment busily composing a profanity-laden symphony titled ‘I Told You So.’

“How did you know?” Stretch sighed out. Maybe Frisk was tuned in to the local airwaves or Edgar Allen might branch out into branches instead of corn gossip.

“Buford,” Edge admitted. “He is the town constable, he looks after the town. Literally, in his case.”

Also had a big mouth, seemed like. “yeah, uh, he showed me his eyes.”

“Did he?” Edge seemed surprised, then pleased. “He usually wears his sunglasses. He rarely takes them off when he’s on duty because outsiders tend to find his eyes unsettling. But yes, it’s his duty to watch out for problems and he does it well.”

Stretch nodded slowly, “must be tough on him sometimes, seeing all that.” He had a little personal experience in that.

“Buford does his duty,” Edge said with a certain finality. Welp, looked like that topic was done and Stretch was fine with that since Edge was starting to look a little calmer. His eye lights weren’t on Stretch’s but lower, focused more on the mouth region and when Stretch flicked his tongue across his teeth nervously, those crimson lights went heavy and dark.

To his disappointment, Edge didn’t go for Ginormous Hug 2: Electric Boogaloo. Instead, he reeled back, shaking himself visibly and turning towards the door. “Well. I only wanted to check in on you, I should be going.”

“wait!” Stretch blurted and Edge hesitated, raising one browbone. “don’t go, not yet.”

He waved a hand in offering at the stool behind the counter and after a moment of hesitation, Edge stepped around the dog and took it. Mutt never stirred, burrowed down in the blanket Red had laid down for him, snoring away. Good thing they hadn’t been in the market for a guard dog.

Stretch hopped up on the counter to sit, (hey, his butt was cleaner than the whole store had been when he first got here) and wondered what the hell to do now. He’d wanted Edge to stay and now he didn’t know what to talk about. Every other chat they’d had was about some kind of Backwater weirdness, the peanut butter and pickle sandwich version of a conversation. He wasn’t sure he even knew how to have a white bread and butter chat.

Edge seemed to agree. He swiped a finger along one of the shelves behind the counter and checked the results, finding it to be relatively dust-free. “The store is looking much better since my brother hired you on.”

“yeah,” Stretch latched on to that topic gratefully, it was marginally better than bringing up the weather. “try to keep up on it. he’s paying me well enough for it, plus room and board, figured i can do my mr clean impression.” He gave the top of his skull a pat. “i’ve already got the bald part down.”

Edge made a rough, scoffing sound and even that was somehow delicious in that voice of his. “I suspect most of what fills up your board comes from my kitchen.”

Stretch suspected the same but leapt to his landlord’s defense, anyway, he owned Red that much and more. “hey, red is a damn fine microwave wrangler when he puts his mind to it.” Okay, so that was less of a leap than a trip and miss, but he’d tried. Maybe better to steer the topic boat out of the rapids and into calmer water. “my bro likes to cook, too.”

“Is he very good?” Edge leaned forward curiously, propping his chin up on a hand.

Woah, wait, abandon ship, that was not calmer waters, that was a storm a’brewing, a freaking typhoon. “good is relative,” Stretch said stoutly.

“Ah,” One corner of Edge’s mouth curled up into a smile. “Rest assured, I would never force you to disparage your brother’s cooking. If it’s any comfort, my recipes were somewhat unique when we first came here as well. Like the garden, it took some time for my skills to come into bloom.”

“seriously?” There was a little too much naked relief in that one word but fuck it, Blue wasn’t here to hear it, “so how many years until he’s less ‘nailed it’ and more ‘chef’s table’?”

That half-smile widened. “Time is also relative, as are brothers. How is your brother, I’m assuming he’s still back in Ebott. Have you spoken to him since you came here?”

Welp, he’d avoided the storm only to end up in shark-infested waters, wasn’t that just his luck, “sort of,” Stretch hedged.

Edge’s teeth parted in a silent ‘ah’ as he successfully decoded that message. “You texted him. Well, that’s better than leaving him completely in the dark.”

“i think he’s doing okay. he was even before i left.” He really hoped so, but then, Blue settled in easily enough from the start. From the Human’s perspective, his bro looked a little like he’d stepped out of some kind of cartoon. He was small and adorable, his starry eye lights in his huge sockets were as cute as if Disney blessed him from beyond the grave. Stretch didn’t begrudge his brother for that, ‘course he didn’t, but that didn’t make his own experiences easy cheesy. “frisk was pretty right about ebott. when it comes to monsters, it sure isn’t backwater.”

“I’m sorry.” Said with enough quiet sincerity to make Stretch shift uncomfortably.

He shrugged weakly. “eh, not your fault.”

“No, but I can still let you share your pains.” Edge reached up and took his hand. He rubbed a scarred thumb gently over his knuckles and Stretch caught his breath. “You know, I used to dream about coming to the surface. Back in my world, in the Underground. Frisk told you that it was a place of LV, not love. My brother and I spent much of our time there simply struggling to survive.” The reminiscence in Edge’s voice held no hint of fondness, but there was a certain faint wistfulness. “I had such grand dreams of what the surface world would be like back then. Hope was difficult to come by in my universe, I never truly believed a human would come and when they did, well.” Edge chuckled and there was the fondness missing from before. “Frisk was not at all what I imagined.”

“did the surface world live up to your dreams?” Stretch asked, curiously. His own dreams of the Aboveground were shaken to their foundations barely an hour into the sunlight, when the first Humans to arrive greeted them not with welcome, but with automatic rifles.

“In some ways,” Edge said. “Mostly, it’s very different from what I imagine. But like Frisk, not necessarily in a bad way.”

“ebott is sure fucking different then i imagined,” Stretch only realized how hard he was squeezing Edge’s hand when both of their joints popped. He loosened his grip, then pulled away entirely, picking up the pen from the counter to fiddle with; at least if he broke that, he’d be the only one stained. “doesn’t matter, anyway. i’m not there right now, am i.”

“Indeed not. You’re here, and Backwater is probably as different from Ebott as it is the Underground.” Edge stood in a jangling, creaking rhapsody of leather and buckles. “On that note, I do need to get going.”

Stretch stood too, hopping down from the counter. Much as he’d like Edge to stay, he did have some work to get done and who knew what Edge needed to get back to. “thank you for checking in on me.”

“Of course.” Too fast for Stretch to do more than blink, Edge leaned in and Stretch stood frozen as he pressed a chaste kiss to his cheekbone, the delicate scrape of his teeth almost ticklish against sensitive bone. He pulled back before Stretch managed to gather up all his scattered wits, and his smile was the soft, real one as he said, “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

“soon,” Stretch parroted dumbly. He stood there like an idiot and watched Edge leave, only coming back to himself at the jangle of the bell over the door. Then he cursed himself, roundly and in every language he knew, including modified flamespeak. Smooth moves, there, Marvin Gaye, couldn’t even turn your head for a real kiss? Just stood there with crotch plug store book and didn’t even try to kick it up a notch? But he’d gotten one hell of a hug and a hand fondle, that was worth nearly getting eaten by Lady Cthulhu out there.

Well, almost.

“mind not getting your sop all over my counter?”

Stretch whirled around, barely managing not to trip over his own feet, to see Red standing in the hallway entrance. He was leaning heavily on his cane with a brutally unimpressed look on his face.

Fuck.

“i’m sorry—” Stretch began and faltered, unsure of what to say. He’d tried to listen to Red, he really had. He’d warned Stretch against starting anything with his bro from the beginning, offered plenty of warnings against rebound fucks and people getting hurt, and Stretch had tried. Except he hadn’t, had he, not really, and he could try to blame Edge’s hips and that gorgeous voice all he wanted; in the end, it was his fault, just like everything else. He hadn’t really been fighting that hard, why would he, it wasn’t like he wanted to win.

Red only sighed heavily and waved him off. “ain’t nothing to be sorry for. toldja before, i ain’t worried about my bro. you’re the one keepin’ me awake at night.”

“speaking of worrying,” Stretch took a deep breath before plunging forward, away from the sharks and heading into the shallows where the piranhas swam. “look, before anyone else decides to spill the beans, i need to tell you something.”

Red held up a hand and Stretch fell silent. “lemme get my coffee first.”

Coffee sounded better than it had any right to and, in his chest, Stretch’s soul gave an uncomfortable lurch like it could hop out and get a cup of its own. Hopefully, he asked, “can i get some?”

“yeah, sure,” Red turned back towards the apartment and tossed back over his shoulder, “whatcha want in it?”

“honey?” May as well dream big.

“yeah, darlin’?”

What? ”No!” Stretch blurted. “I mean…I didn’t…”

“yeah, yeah,” Red snickered. “i gotcha, brat.”

It was both entirely too long and much too quickly that Red made his way back with two heavy white mugs that looked as if they’d been stolen from Mama’s diner. He handed one to Stretch and settled in to lean against the counter, sipping from his own. “so, this about why you and my bro were cozying up behind the counter?”

“uh, sort of,” Stretch hedged. He stalled by taking a sip of his coffee, glorying in the thick, over-sweetened brew. “he came by because buford got a hold of him.”

Red lurched upright as if someone goosed him right on his tailbone. Hot coffee sloshed over his hand and he hissed, shaking his wet, stinging fingers as he demanded, “he did what now? what the fuck happened?”

“it’s not that bad.”

It was a weak attempt at best, not that it mattered. Red didn’t fall for it in the slightest. He didn’t move, there was no noticeable change in his breathing or posture, but the sardonic humor that seemed to cling to Red like another shirt evaporated entirely and left behind nothing but cold sincerity. “buford don’t exactly text, he don’t get ahold of anyone unless—” Red stopped and gave Stretch a coolly assessing glance that he squirmed beneath. Quietly, he said, “kid, what did you do?”

“i didn’t do it!” Stretch blurted and no amount of defending himself to his own brother or even the Ebott police could have prepared him for this. “the dog ran off, but i didn’t go into the woods! not until—there was this…this thing!” Stretch gestured wildly, trying ineffectively to convey with skinny bone hands the shadowy, awful creature that lured him into the dark last night. He couldn’t hold back a shudder of revulsion, simply thinking about it was filling him with a renewed sense of horror. “it looked like a woman and then it didn’t, she was singing, she was doing something, and i couldn’t stop myself, i couldn’t even think!”

He stopped, panting, and Red said nothing. He only stood there statue-still and Stretch would have given about anything for the door to open, the bell to jangle as someone looking for a fresh supply of ass wipers broke that awful silence.

Desperately, Stretch pressed on, letting out a nervous laugh. “anyway, i’m okay. she didn’t touch me or bite me or anything. i got out okay.” He didn’t mention the bone dragon, wasn’t even sure why, but Red was still frozen and silent over hearing about one terrifying encounter, maybe better not to mention two.

“red?” Stretch tried, hating how his voice sounded so small and forlorn. In a dismal corner of his mind, he was already mentally packing his bags. He couldn’t go back to Ebott, not now, not yet, but where else could he go, what other job could he possibly find? Maybe a waiter at Mama’s or maybe the thrift shop needed a helping hand. He didn’t know. The little money he had wouldn’t last long and definitely not in a bigger city. He didn’t really have any options, no choices at all.

He jerked back as Red suddenly jolted into movement, limping around the counter without his cane. He staggered almost drunkenly and then swung around to violently ram his fist into the first rack of the shelves. The wooden frame rocked and groaned, scattering boxes and cans to the floor on either side. A small bag of cornmeal fell and burst open, scattering dusty yellow across the floorboards.

“i…i’ll just…” Stretch couldn’t say go, he couldn’t, saying it would make this real, and he couldn’t let it be real. He took a step towards the hallway, tasting heavy tears on the back of his tongue.

Red’s voice stopped him, “kid.”

Stretch stood there and watched Red wrap both arms around himself. The fingers of one hand were streaked with marrow, he’d probably cracked his phalanges, but Red only shuddered faintly, drawing in a long breath and letting it out in a shaky rattle as he said, “if i’d’ve known she was awake, i woulda warned ya.”

Oh.

Oh, that made a terrible amount of sense and it didn’t make Stretch feel one fucking bit better to realize that Red wasn’t mad at him.

“it’s fine, red,” Stretch said, gently. It was hard to bank his own fears, but he managed, “it’s not your fault. i’m okay.”

Red heaved out a hitching little sigh and Stretch didn’t need Buford’s powers or his own magic to see that Red didn’t believe that, not even a little.

“okay,” he muttered under his breath, low and indistinct, “okay, okay.” Then louder, “okay, kid, get on out of here.”

“you’re firing me?” Stretch blurted, horrified. He’d begun to believe it was all right, more fool he, hadn’t he had the rug ripped out from under him enough times by now, when would he ever learn?

“what?” Red said, aghast. “fuck no! take a little time off, is all, after a shitty night like that, you need it. go see a movie, ‘wizard of oz’ ’s playin’, think it’ll be right up your alley.”

Relief left him weak, but he made no move towards the door. “but. your hand?”

“what about my hand?” Red raised his browbones and his hand at once and Stretch stared at the clean, pristine bones in confusion, what the fuck, he was sure he’d seen—

“okay, but,” Stretch still didn’t want to leave, some part of him vaguely convinced that if he left he wouldn’t be able to come back, like this shabby little store was some kind of fae place. “here, let me clean up.”

“i can fucking clean,” Red said impatiently. “been doing it since long before you got here.” He hooked his perfectly unbroken thumb at the door, “now, git! scoot!”

It seemed better not to comment on Red’s cleaning skills. Stretch hung up his apron and obediently scooted while Red limped over to the broom.

Outside, the temperature was just above a swelter. Stretch headed towards the theater even as the kids pulled up by the shop and dropped their bikes to head in, about five minutes too late.

Red had the right idea, he decided tiredly. A movie sounded like a good idea right about now. If, that was, he could stay awake through the opening credits.

tbc

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Keeping Secrets.”

Wrote another for you all. Hope you have a good day :)

“But I’m HUNGRY.” 

“We don’t have time for that.”

“I’m the commander, I’m your boss, and I say I’m hungry.”

Ramirez turned on his heel going toe to toe with the taller man, “I don’t give one shit if you’re hungry or not, something is wrong with you, so I am taking you back to Dr. Krill and Katie, so they can to a scan of your dumbass skull.” 

Commander Vir bared his teeth in a feral snarl held back only by Sunny, who had two of her arms wrapped around his chest. He was being absolutely impossible to control. First it had been other people, largely women, but with Ramirez in the crossfire once, and Sunny taking the brunt towards the tail end. Then it had been the aggression, the heightened need to fight absolutely everyone for the smallest infraction, and then had come the hunger, which he hadn’t shut up about for over a mile now.

Ramirez would have gotten them a taxi, but everything here tended to fly, which made Adam assume that it was his since he was “the best pilot in the known galaxy, so it should be me that flies everything.”

Yeah right, like he was going to let commander jackass fly the plane.

But deep down he was worried. Whatever this guy was, it wasn’t Adam.

Adam was….. Well how about the exact opposite of everything this person was doing, he was shy, and polite, and friendly, and humorous. Even when he got angry or indignant, his actions were usually justified for some sort of reason.

But whatever that thing in the alley had been, it had definitely done something to him.

He glanced down at his implant, and pulled up the tracking device that Krill had managed to weld to the commander’s ribs and found that it did indeed say that the commander was right behind him.

Up ahead they were just stepping onto the docking bay platform where ship shuttles were constantly rolling in from the sky above. Noctopolis didn’t have a station big enough for entire ships to land, so they were going to have to take a shuttle back to the ship. It would be best not to take their shuttle as the other marines would need a way to get back when they finally finished with their carousing, so he finally hailed another shuttle, which pulled to a stop in front of them.

“This piece of junk.” The commander snarled, “I’ve seen better shuttles in junkyards. Look at it, the D-4 coupling. Only some kind of bitch drives a shuttle with a -”

Sunny clamped her hand over the commander’s mouth and Ramirez sighed as the shuttle ramp opened and allowed them to step inside.

“To the station?” the pilot asked turning around in its seat to look at them.

“Yes please.” Ramirez said scanning his implant under the reader for payment.

As soon as that was done, he helped Sunny to strap the Commander into place getting a fat lip for his troubles when the man snuck in an angry knee to the face. Ramirez contemplated ‘accidentally’ closing the five point harness on the man’s junk in retaliation, but assumed it wise not to piss the man off more than he already was.

Sunny still had her hand over the Commander’s mouth, as the roar of the engines started up nearly deafening the.

Sunny yelped in shock and drew her hand back from Adam.

“He bit me!”

He barred his teeth at her, complained for a couple more minutes, though, luckily it wasn’t loudly enough for the pilot to hear. Eventually his messed up brain moved on to a quieter activity, pressed against Sunny head resting on her am.

Ramirez wasn’t stupid.

Had he guessed that Adam had a thing for sunny. Totally, who didn’t, but he doubted that Adam wanted anyone to find out like this. Ramirez honestly didn’t care about what he did in his free time, but he was worried about what would happen to his friend when he came down from whatever freaky psychotic behavior this was.

So, what did he do?

He decided to piss him off some more.

The commander could more easily come back from anger than he could from the humiliating of letting everyone know he was in love with an alien.

“Adam, Fuck you.”

It wasn’t his most eloquent diatribe he had ever given, but it worked pretty well.

Adam turned to look at him face twisted into an expression of murderous rage. Sunny was forced to hold him back as the cursing began and the struggling. Ramirez stayed very calm. He just had to keep him pissed like this until they made it to the infirmary.

They made it off the shuttle without incident, and walked through most of the station. Aside form the man hungrily eyeballing a couple of passing people, and a couple of passing food carts, they made it to the ship.

People came to approach them but Ramirez vigorously shook his head waving them off and out of the line of fire. Commander Vir glared them down as if he intended to fight each and every last one of them.

Sunny practically carried him up the corridor and through the ship towards their final destination.

Along the hallway up to the medical bay they ran into Conn, who took one look at Commander Vir and floated backwards a bit. Whatever was inside the man’s head, the starborn wasn’t to keen to be apart of.

Ramirez ignored that little fact and shouldered the next door open with gusto practically bursting into the medical bay with sunny close behind.

Dr. katie and Krill looked up from their work frowning in confusion as Sunny struggled to make the Commander do what she wanted.

Krill floated up.

“Is everything alright?”

Ramirez shook his head, “Something happened to the Commander. I think he was attacked?”

Both Dr. Krill and doctor Katie stepped forward in concern as Sunny forced him to sit down.

Krill moved forward, and so did doctor katie until eventually the man’s eyes fell on her. They all watched as his head tilted slowly moving up to her face after passing over her body. The look on his face was so uncharacteristic of him that Dr. katie and Krill took  a step back.

He licked his lips.

Dr. Katie’s eyes narrowed, and she walked over grabbing him aggressively by the face and turning his head this way and that. 

He mewled in pain.

“You are definitely right, something is completely wrong with him. Sunny pinned his hands down as he tried to fight Katie off.

“He got all weird like, started going after everyone, and then he tried to fight the, and then he got all hungry. And he's been aggressive and pissy ever since. I have never seen anyone behave like this ever, and I joined the army.”

“Yes the behavior is completely out of character. What did you say happened before he started acting like this.”

“I think someone may have used a device on him. It was dark, and I didn’t get a good look of the shadow, but I saw some metal, like there was a contraption on his head. Sunny continued to hold the commander down as doctor Katie looked over his head. She completely ignored whatever he was saying, though it did happen to be rather alarming coming from Adam.

“Here, on the scalp, what do you make of it Krill.”

Krill moved forward to take a look leaning in closely for an examination, “Hmmm, yes. Puncture wounds on the temples and under the eyes, very minuscule. Almost microscopic in fact.

Adam bit at Katie’s hand and she pulled back.

The look on her face was one of complete no nonsense as she stepped away grabbed something and then came back.

Adam looks almost shocked when she stabbed him in the back with the syringe.

“What did you give him.” Krill wondered 

The concoction was self-evident a moment later as the man lost all muscle tone. Sunny grabbed him and lay him back.

“Combined sedative and paralytic. That should keep him still she said.” Behind her glasses her warm eyes had changed to one of worry. She wasn’t mad at the commander knowing that something had been done to hi to make him behave in such a barbaric manner.

“Call in Dr. Adric will you. He might be able to help us explain at least some of this behavior.”

It wasn’t long before the man slipped into the room honey tones of his dark skin washed out by sharp overhead light. He walked forward and stopped with the other two doctors.

“Something is wrong with the commander.”

“Increased libido, hyper aggression, and hunger to the point of not being able to control himself. We had to sedate him.”

“Strange, sounds like you just gave me the textbook definition of the Id.”

“The what now?”

Dr Adric shrugged, “Oh nothing it was simply a theory proposed by a psychologist more than two thousand years ago. His methods have since been questioned and greatly disproven, but Freud did coin the idea of the Id, or the subconscious driving for of the human mind that encompasses all our base desires, food, sex, aggression, and so on.” he glanced down at the commander, “In this case, i might suggest something in causation with the function of the brain stem (including all base drives) and an inhibition of the frontal lobe and limbic system.”

“Why those in particular?” Krill wondered 

“The frontal lobe, as you know is in charge of executive decision. Whatever function has kept these drives and habits suppressed, is not working. With the limbic system down, he has no way of controlling his emotions which might explain the aggression, though I have never seen anything manifest in this way.”

“So you have seen it?”

“Alzheimer patients can experience similar behavior towards the end stages of the disease as their executive function and limbic systems break down, but he doesn't appear to be having any related memory involvement. I would suggest an x-ray fMRI and CT scan to begin.”

“Why the x-ray?” wondered Ramirez pretty sure that that could show you the skull and not the brain.

“Looking for metal of course.”

It was probably a good idea as the first x-ray image lit up like a lightbulb. Gathered around the screen, Sunny and Ramirez looking over their heads they saw the skull was packed full of shiny white dots. The skull was intact, and the dots were on the outside of his brain, but they were small, very small.

“Think you can get those out, Dr?” Katie asked turning to look at Krill.

“Yes, they are very small, a large magnet should do the trick.”

Dr Adric made a joke about putting him in an MRI to do the work quicker, and received a look form Krill while Katie laughed.

By the end of the hour all oft hem were staring at a minute grouping of microscopic electrodes that had been pulled from the man’s head.

“That would explain it.” Dr Adric muttered

“Explain what?”

“Generating a magnetic current through areas of the brain can disrupt its function. We’ve known that for thousands of years. Continuous stimulation of the occipital lobe, for example, can make someone go blind. So whoever did this intentionally shut off his executive functions, or stimulated his base drives. I believe what we just saw is the hardwired, natural human instincts.

“How very comforting”, Krill said, obviously not very comforted

“Well, lets wake him up and see if the problem resolved.

Nervously, the group gathered around the man who had been mostly sedated for the entire procedure. He wasn’t fully asleep, but he was only half conscious. The reversal agent woke him up pretty quickly, and he lifted his head sort of groggily.

He blinked owlishly at them, his face neutral.

They waited worried.

“What…. Happened?” He groaned hand to his head 

His single eye slowly focused in on Dr Katie, and then he blanched absolutely white. Eyes widening he put a hand over his mouth.

“Yep, that’s him.”

“Commander, are you ok? What do you remember.”

He grabbed Katie by the arm stammering, “Katie I… I’m so sorry I-I dont know what came over me. I’ve never done anything like that in my life I swear to god.” he looked near close to panic, “You know I would never intentionally ever do anything like that to you ever, and I am so sorry. I have no idea why that even happened.” 

She grabbed his hand, “Adam, it’s alright. I know you wouldn’t. It wasn’t your fault.”

He turned his head, and as he saw sunny and Ramirez his face went from bleach white to pale pink, to bright red.

Ramirez grinned and threw in a wink just for fun.

He thought the man was going to stroke out and die. He dropped his head into his hands. Even his hands were red.

“Do you remember what happened, commander?” Dr krill asked 

“I…. I don’t now I was waiting for Ramirez and sunny but then…. I saw something in the alley. Next thing I knew everything was dark, and I was being thrown around. It pinned me to the ground and did something…. That’s when ramirez and sunny came out. After that I remember….. I remember feeling, so angry and, and hungry and….” He went quiet as his neck blushed and even deeper shade of red, “I’m so sorry”, he moaned.

“Are you sure you don’t remember anything else, Commander.’

“Well I mean…. I’m not sure, but maybe...I thought it might have said, the Kree, but I wasn’t really paying attention.” 

“The Kree. Didn’t the GA make contact with a race that called themselves the Kree.”

Te commander lifted his head, “Yes, though it was only by long distance communication, otherwise no one knows anything about them.” 

“Well, rest, Commander, and we will figure this all out later.”

He nodded dejectedly as the doctors stepped from the room all the while discussing what the device could have been.

Ramirez followed after them having taken a step out the door when.

“Sunny, I am so sorry. What happened, I didn’t meant to do any of it.”

He paused beside the doorway knowing he should move on, but being unable to do so.

“None of it?”

There was silence.

“I…..”

“So I shouldn’t expect anything like that ever…. Even in an appropriate context?”

Stammering 

He really should go

“It’s fine, Adam, but that is something I just needed to know.”

“But I didn’t say that, Sunny I…. I just.”

“You just…. What?”

“Eventually yes of course…. And I want to…. But I….”

Ramirez shook himself and pulled away. He shouldn’t be listening in. It was wrong despite how much he wanted to shove it in maverick’s face and claim his two hundred bucks.

He wasn’t going to rat out his friend to everyone.

He knew what being a friend meant, and often that included keeping secrets.  

[wisteriawritings]

To Start Anew

Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins

Ship: F!Aeducan x Gorim

Warnings: None

Genre: Angst

WC: 1933

Blurb: After the ultimate betrayal, Terra Aeducan has been exiled to the deep roads. Through extraordinary circumstances, she fights her way to the surface and becomes Thedas’s last hope against the coming blight. However, during her journey she must deal with painful truths about her family, her life back in Orzammar, and what her future may be.

They had only just arrived in Denerim. Terra Aeducan, with Alistair, Morrigan, and an affectionate Mabari in tow, had come in search of Andraste’s ashes. The hunt for allies against the oncoming blight had hardly begun, yet they were all bone tired. It was the exhaustion that led her to believe that she was imagining things. That Gorim’s sweet, warm voice was only in her mind. Even so, the sound pulled her towards the center of town, like a chain wrapped around her middle was dragging her forwards.

“Are you alright?” Alistair asked, seeing the color had drained from her face.

“I just… I’m going to step away for a bit. I’ll meet you at the inn, yeah?”

Alistair nodded, though reluctantly. Alistair was tooth-rottingly sweet and Terra tried to summon the best smile she could to set him at ease and send him away. He was becoming a quick and dear friend to her, and she didn’t want him to see her in what seemed to be a lapse in sanity.

“Dwarven crafts!”

There it was again. Terra, her spine now stiff as stone, hurried away and through the bustling streets, following the voice. Dwarven crafts? It could be anyone though. Any number of low-born Orzammar men who left for the surface could be in town. It wasn’t uncommon, and neither was the accent. It probably wasn’t him, wouldn’t be him, couldn’t be him. She rounded the corner and in the square she saw him

Terra’s hands tremored. Words like “I missed you,” “I found you,” and “thank the fucking stone,” all caught in her throat. Her hands grasped at it desperately, trying to free them. Because there he was. Just a few yards away stood her best friend and the man she loved: Gorim.

She tried to call out his name, but only pitiful, strangled noises escaped her lips. But he saw her. His face – it was tanner now; it had finally seen the sun – lit up in shock, disbelief, joy. All the things she felt were reflected back to her. Her throat was still sealed shut, but her feet started moving. Suddenly she was running, running faster than she had ever run, straight into arms that opened wide at the sight of her. Solid, strong arms that knew the curve and the shape of her body so well. Arms that slid into their place so easily, it was like slipping on a pair of gloves. For the first time since she left Orzammar, her feet felt firmly planted on the ground. She was finally rooted to the earth the way she used to be, and the sky wasn’t threatening to swallow her whole anymore.

For a few blissful seconds, the Blight was far away, and Bhelen never betrayed her. With tearful eyes, Gorim studied her face with an intensity that felt like he was boring into her soul. He looked as if he were taking inventory of her features, ensuring that each one was accounted for and just as he remembered them. “I knew you would make it out. I never stopped believing,” he said softly. Suddenly his face changed, lighting up as if he were remembering something.

“I have something for you.” He bent down to a chest that lay under the table. After a few moments of rummaging, he produced a letter. “Before I left for the surface, King Endrin sent me with this. We both hoped against hope that I would find you up here.”

Terra’s heart, which was already pounding, somehow beat even harder at these words. “Father? How is he?” The thought of seeing her father again filled her with so much joy and longing she could hardly stand it. She felt like her heart was swelling so large it was pressing against her ribs.

“Oh, my lady…I’m so sorry,” Gorim said, in a voice so sad and soft it sent bolts of fear down Terra’s spine. But she knew what those words meant. The pressure in her chest deepened and sunk to reach down into her stomach too. She felt faint.

“If a man can die of a broken heart… King Endrin did.”

“But what happened to him?” She asked, trying to hold back the tears. Gorim hesitated, but Terra’s hard look of pain and determination gave him the permission he needed to part with the grisly details. “After Trian’s death-…no, murder, Endrin was stricken with too much grief and confusion to see that Bhelan had constructed it all. It didn’t take long for him to find his mind again, but by then it was already too late. You were already locked in the deep roads. That’s why it all happened so quickly. That bastard Bhelen knew he had to dispose of you before the shock of it all wore off.” Gorim looked at his feet and took a long, shaky breath before continuing. “It was like he just… wasted away. He couldn’t go on living, like he was a ghost.”

Terra squeezed his hand. She focused on that feeling; homed in on the way he callouses rubbed against the palm of her hand. It was the only tangible thing keeping her anchored to reality. Gorim looked at her for a reassurance that she wanted him to continue. She nodded grimly. She was sick to her stomach, but she had to know the whole story. It was her duty as a daughter and as an Aeducan.

“When he called me to him, just before I left… the room stank of decay. It was as if he had already been long dead. He was already a corpse, just waiting for his time to return to the stone. All he could talk about was you.” His other hand took hold of her shoulder, steadying her. She hadn’t even realized she was swaying. “Terra, he sent me with more than just a letter.”

Gorim fished in his pocket and took out a worn velvet purse. Among the coins glinted a chunk of golden metal. Terra blinked her tears away and saw that no, it wasn’t a nugget. It was the Aeducan signet ring. Trian’s ring.

He gently placed it in her hand and folded it into a fist.

“He loved you, Terra. That nug-fucker Bhelen, he’s not a real Aeducan. You’re the true last heir, and your father knew it. You deserve this, and no one else. He made that much clear.”

The ring felt heavy in her hand, like she held all of Orzammar in her palm. In a way, she supposed, she did. But she felt that she could bear it as long as Gorim held her other hand.

“I’m just so glad I found you. Thank the stone, thank the stone…” Terra drew herself closer to him, ready to step back into his embrace and find his lips. But a look she couldn’t quite decipher crossed his face, and he took a step back.

“My lady, there’s something else I should tell you. I’ve, well… I’ve found a life on the surface. A blacksmith’s daughter; we’re expecting our first. She’s… she’s lovely and…” Gorim trailed off, not knowing how to continue.

The world seemed to go still around her. Her heart, which had been thumping loudly in her ears just moments before, fell quiet. A few seconds passed, but they felt like centuries.

“I don’t understand…” Terra’s voice quivered, and she hated herself for it. “You said you’ve been waiting for me.”

Gorim’s face flushed red and he looked down at his feet. “I have been, of course. But… well…” Gorim stammered, his shoulders slumped. Terra thought that he looked almost like a scolded child caught stealing sweets before supper. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it. He had been in Denerim for how long? Two months now, maybe? And he still hasn’t come up with a good explanation as to how he tripped and fell into a smith’s girl, all while claiming to ‘know she had made it out’.

He mustered the courage to meet her gaze again and flushed an even deeper red. He had always been able to tell what she was thinking, as if her very mind was binded to his own. She could feel his shame radiating off of him like a sickness. He knew he had done wrong. He knew that as a knight, he had acted shamefully. And she knew it too. Some dark corner of her soul felt gratified in this, gleeful in his self-loathing. She felt the anger rising.

“So let me make sure I understand,” she began, her words already dripping in venom. “You know, or hoped, or believed or what have you, that I was alive on the surface. And you, as my second, sworn to serve and protect me until death, fucked me and whispered sweet nothings to me in Orzammar. But when you’re separated from me for two months – oh, less than that actually, since she’s already knocked up – you decided to live it up with the first surfacer you see?”

Gorim’s eyes filled with tears. “It wasn’t like that,” he said firmly, but she could hear the tremble in his voice.

“Then what was it like?”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too, but I didn’t jump in bed with a surfacer. I searched for you Gorim.”

“My lady… We never could have been together. You know that.”

All of a sudden she understood, and the tears she had been holding back came slipping across her face. It didn’t matter what happened, or what he believed. Gorim was an outcast, a surfacer. Je was stripped of his caste his family name. But Terra? To him, she was still Lady Aeducan, and she always would be. Even if they had stayed in Orzammar, if Bhelen had never betrayed them, he would still think himself beneath her. He might have loved her perhaps, but he would have walked away eventually. He could never see himself as more than her second.

She realized she had been squeezing the signet ring in her hand. She relaxed her fist and saw her house crest bored into her palm like a brand. Gorim watched her as she first tried it on her ring finger and then settled with slipping it on her thumb. Trian’s hands had been bigger than hers.

Gorim reached out to comfort her, but drew back, unsure of himself. “My lady, if I had known you were alive…”

Terra glanced back up at him scornfully. “Either you did, or you didn’t.”

He reared back as if he had been struck, but he knew he deserved it. She saw no trace of resentment in his eyes. She looked at him for a hard moment and her anger fizzled out, leaving her with nothing but a cold hollow in her stomach and the crushing weight of her loneliness. Gorim’s cheeks were wet from silent tears.

“I hope I’ll have time to meet her soon,” Terra said.

“I’d like that. My door is always open to you.”

“I love you, Gorim. I hope you’re happy,” she confessed. Her heart gave one last weak tug at what had been between them.

“The same for you.”

She immediately recognized that he had not confirmed his happiness, and Gorim saw it in her face. Before he could say anything else, she turned away to rejoin her group.

Terra glanced up at the sky, vast and unending above her. Her family crest rested upon her finger and its weight, though heavy, was a comfort to her. She had a blight to end, and she didn’t need Gorim to do it.  

[rockstar-angel]

back alley blitz

summary: a few weeks have passed since their first meeting, and neither rose nor remy can seem to stop thinking about each other. rose finally manages to call remy, which leads to a brawl near the casino where they met last.

shippings: rosemary (rose x remy)

warnings: fight scene, cursing

word count: 2k

a/n: part 3 of the rosemary series!!! part 2 is here in case u missed it!!!

tags: @sealovinq @tuff-and-fluff @soulnottainted (if you wanna be added/removed lmk via asks or dm!)

This was her third phone since first trying to call his number. The first one, she hurled at the wall upon hearing his greeting; the second, she smashed on the ground after listening to him talk for a few moments; this time was the time she would actually talk.

Rose was holding the cellphone in her right hand, the card in her left. Her leg was tapping aggressively as she sat on the couch in her apartment, her thumb hovering over the dial button.

God, how did this happen. Why did this happen. She was supposed to kill him, and now she’s just hitting him up. Standing up off the couch with a noise of effort, she finally gathered the courage to hit the dial button.

When Gambit picked up, she blurted out what was at the front of her mind as fast as possible.

“What did you do to me.”

Gambit got yet another phone call. Usually he didn't get them since he changes phones often to maintain anonymity, despite being an attention hog.

He picked up his phone, and before he could offer a sultry "hellohello~" he was cut off.

He was stunned silent for a moment.

"I, uh... I'm sorry, who is dis? Yer gonna hafta be more specific, I've done lotsa things to lotsa people."

He said nonchalantly as he crossed his leg over the other and leaned back in the chair he was sitting in. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He pouted in thought, face scrunched up as he tried to remember.

Rose bit her lip and held the cellphone away from her as she stomped her paw on the ground angrily. She then pulled the phone back to her ear, forcing herself to respond.

“I- I can’t… get you out of my head, you bastard, what did you do?!”

With that line, it clicked. Gambit smiled widely as his face flushed. He grabbed a card from the table and flipped it between his fingers happily. He didn't want to expose that he knew it was her though, otherwise she might hang up.

"Woooaah, no need to be hostile. Jus' looks like I've caught somebody’s eye."

He said, the smirk practically evident in his tone.

Rose rolled her eyes as if he could see her. “Yeah, no shit Sherlock, I can’t do anything without thinking of you.” She blurted, her mouth moving faster than her brain could keep up with. If it was any other circumstance, she probably would’ve been able to tell from the tone in his voice that he knew who she was, but her judgement was clouded. He had that affect on her, and she absolutely hated it.

"Sadly, I'm unable to help with dat predicament. Howeva', I will say dat I'm in a similar boat myself. You've been runnin' through my mind too, mon petit minou.”

Gambit lowered his voice slightly as his words gained more and more genuine feeling and his face grew redder. He continued to absentmindedly flick the card through his fingers, when he caught himself wishing her fingers were entangled with his. He dropped the card at that sudden thought and shook his head. Clear the thoughts, like rolling a dice.

Fuck. It took all of Rose’s strength and then some not to just crush the phone, or hurl it at the wall like she’d done to one of the other phones. She could feel her heart speeding up and a purr catch in her throat and she desperately tried to swallow it before speaking again; she knew if she tried to talk, her voice would merely be a squeak. She held the phone away from her face again as she drew a long breath, calming herself as much as possible before she spoke again.

“When can I see you again.” She asked—though it sounded more like a demand—her voice low as her tail thrashed back and forth behind her.

"Excusez-moi?"

Gambit said, more shocked than anything.

She wanted to see him again.

She wanted to see him again.

He bit his lip to stifle a cry of joy. Instead he hit the air a couple times, as though he were hitting an invisible punching bag. He brought the phone back up to his face and picked up the card, still flipping it wildly.

“You heard me!” Rose barked, forcing herself to keep from shouting; her neighbors had to deal with enough loudness from her as is. “I need to hit you or something.” She growled, making a face as she said it.

Gambit sat in silence for a moment, thinking. He tapped his chin with the card before speaking again.

"Well, I've got a lil’ somethin' tonight. Bank heist, nuthin' special. De one dats near de casino, can't miss it. Dere’s a lotta alleyways, find one ‘n I'll meet ya dere."

He said with a smile at his own brilliant idea. It wasn't that brilliant at all but he only cared about having her attention.

Rose flipped shut her cellphone, staring into space for a few moments. What the hell did she get herself into. Why did she have such a tendency to get roped into things against her will.

Oh well, it gave her something to do. She hung her head with a long sigh, slipping her cellphone into her back pocket and throwing on her jacket before heading out.

———

It wasn’t hard to miss him, the flashy bastard. Rose scrunched her nose. What kind of thief did he think he was? And how in god’s name had he not been caught yet?

Shaking her head as she walked towards him, her breathing shook slightly before she took a longer breath, not even giving him to time to get half his greeting out before she socked him in the face.

"Oh hel-"

Remy stumbled back as she punched him, holding a hand to his already bleeding nose.

"Straight to de point, are we? A’ight, let's see whatcha got."

He said with a smirk despite already looking beaten. He brought out his deck of cards and set them aflame with energy, tossing them down at his opponent.

Rose bared her teeth, growling lowly as she leapt backwards to dodge. She then jumped up to grab Gambit’s ankle, slamming him back down to the ground.

“Uh-uh. No mutation bullshit. Hand-to-hand or I’m leaving.” She said, a smirk tugging at the sides of her face for once.

"W’uh oh."

Gambit muttered after he recovered from being slammed to the ground. He was strong, but he wasn't Wolverine type strong. In fact, he was scared Rose was going to snap him like a toothpick.

He put the rest of his cards in his pocket and raised his fists more or less nervously. He didn't want to hit her, but he also didn't feel like being beaten half to death. In the time it took him to think about his options, he had already been punched in the jaw, sending him flying.

"You've got a mean swing-"

He was going to say something quippy when she attacked again.

“Thanks.” Rose responded half-sarcastically before throwing another hit at Gambit then backing off to defend. Her grin was evident now.

“Don’t worry about hitting me, cher. I’m not a girl, you don’t gotta worry about breaking your code of honor or whatever the fuck.” She jeered, her tail already thrashing as she waited for her opponent to make a move.

Gambit’s eyes widened at that. Cher. His face flushed a bright red and he was forever grateful that it was so dimly lit. But, wait, if Rose was a cat, couldn't she see in the dark? Gambit didn't have time to answer his own question. He sat up and wiped the blood from his face.

"A’ight then, note to self, don't underestimate de angel.”

He smirked before rushing to try and tackle her. He knew he weighed more than her, but she was faster, she dodged and he fell to the ground.

He quickly sat up and went to swing at her face, although it was dark so he couldn't see much; he was more likely to hit a wall than her.

Rose grunted as Gambit’s fist collided with her shoulder, sending her tumbling to the left before she rolled over into a crouching position.

“More like a demon if you ask me.” She muttered under her breath, giving no context before standing up and pacing back towards him, throwing an uppercut at his chin.

Gambit was thrown backwards, obviously tired but stubborn as ever. He held himself against the wall, face bruised and red with blood and blush.

“Oh petit ange, can’t you see your wings and divine figure? How could you be a demon?”

He asked with genuine curiosity, expression slightly sad that she thought of herself that way.

Rose stood still, other than her form heaving slightly from being tired, as she stared at Gambit with an unreadable expression. She then looked down at her hands, her knuckles darkened from the repeated impacts and slightly stained with blood. Her eyes widened a little before she looked back at Gambit, now holding a completely different exterior.

A defense mechanism.

“Can’t you tell? Do I need to beat you up even more? I will.” She pressed jokingly to deflect from having to tell the truth. They’d be there all night if she explained all the reasons why she felt that way, and frankly, she’d probably kill him before she’d finish.

"Doin' bad things don't make you a bad person. Just like doin' good things doesn't make you a good one."

Gambit said between pants. He was still trying to catch his breath.

"You can beat me up more, if you wanna."

He said genuinely, his expression slightly saddened. There seemed to be so much more to her than he first thought. Kinda like him.

He held his hands up and walked to Rose, showing defeat. When he stumbled close enough, he grabbed something from his pocket and gently and slowly wrapped one of her hands in his, placing whatever he had in her palm. He spoke softly, still holding her hand.

"I think you're de closest thing to an angel I've ever seen."

He said softly, his eyes averted and face flushed.

Rose’s eyes widened and her face tinted red. She stayed still for a few moments before yanking her hand away, turning away and trying to use the collar of her jacket to conceal her blush.

That felt so nice. Why did that feel so nice. Why was he being nice to her.

Her head was clouded and fuzzy with thoughts that didn’t quite feel like her own as she slowly and tentatively opened her palm to look at what he’d given her.

Gambit took a deep breath and put his hands in his pockets. He turned to walk out of the alleyway, talking back at Rose on his way out.

"Don't let de cops see it. But I have a feelin' you avoid cops anyway, so."

When he made it to the sidewalk, he twirled back to Rose and bowed at her dramatically before walking away.

As he walked back to whatever place he was staying for the week, he thought about how he’d given the most expensive piece of jewelry away to impress someone. His "father" would have lectured him til his ears bled.

Gambit escaped him and he still has moments that remind him of his "dad" but he was free now.

He smiled softly at imagining her wearing that necklace as he walked back to his abode happily.

Rose couldn’t find the words to respond to Gambit when he said his goodbyes. She sent a look back at him before looking at what he’d put in her palm.

What she found was a diamond necklace and yet another card he’d written on, but this time it said ‘same time same place next week?’

It was subconscious, it was genuine, and she forced herself to stop when she realized; but for a moment, she was smiling.