#This entire thing radiates too much sad energy for me to deal with

[astrovagrant]

fallout show final notes (attempting to keep this Short because i can and will keep going if i'm not mindful)

firstly: people who liked it getting mad at people who didn't and going "eugh fnv fans are so crazy" is silly. there are legitimate grievances to take with the show, which i will do in just a second. i'm sure there ARE fnv hardcore fans out there who are spitting mad because they didn't actually learn one of the most important lessons of fnv (the status quo must be broken continually to improve) - the shady sands bit isn't necessarily strictly bad BECAUSE it changes something fundamental about the ncr. i also don't think the show was going out of its way to spit on fnv as a whole Necessarily - there are too many nods and the fact that house is around at all just adds to that. it's not a todd dick contest, i think they were doing it in good faith, the fact remains that they still didn't do it Good.

so here are the things that i actually didn't like, now that we all got our kneejerk pissed off "group x says y and they're WRONG for that" reactions out of the way. SPOILERS spoilers Spoilers.

dealing with vault tec mysteries isn't actually a bad thing - kind of interesting inherently. however: vault tec AKA a group of Shadowy Elites is Responsible For Everything is so. pointed look at camera.

vault tec bearing sole direct responsibility for bombs dropping (and having that suggested to the board of shadowy elites by a black woman no less) is truly the least interesting progression point for fallout lore as a whole. we're going to ignore the war as a whole and The US Government in favor of corpo responsibility offloading.

lucy's dad being a freezy pop who nuked shady sands landed on a broken ankle because they're serving us Nuke Revelation with a side of Nuke Revelation. and it's all the same company. WOAHHH can it get ANY more interconnected!

i started straight up guffawing at ghoul mom reveal. pleasssseeeeee god

moldaver had so much build up as an interesting character and then got wasted on being the vaguest possible revolutionary who then died way too soon. hello? why is she dead already? what was the fucking point of the flame lady cult? why open this can if you were immediately gonna discard it? why isn't lucy's mom moldaver? CHRIST.

i dislike the attempt at new ghoul lore that just seems ultimately pointless? like ghouls as a concept were not Advanced in any way with this lore. i did like the pause to provide empathy with the feral ghouls, was a nice touch. buuuut Big Drug Energy is nothing to me and loss of discussion of radiation effects on a changed being that now lives in harmony with radiation is a sad loss for fallout as a setting imo.

i don't dislike ghoulman cooper. i think his character Concept is inherently very funny and good for its irony, except they didn't even use the irony at all? the myth of the american cowboy and The Western, the poison of american individualism, the sad reality of bouncing from one big lie (american exceptionalism esp in a time of war) to another one (ads for vault tec aka selling the end of the world) was instead turned into Oh No, My Wife (Black Woman) Is Actually Pretty Evil And I Forsook My Good American Boy Values For Her! and then just being a right bastard in the postwar.

bethesda will never be tired of Privileged Person Is Subjected To Horrible Degenerate Wasteland. lucy's character arc is supposed to be That (But Look, She's Still Good, Because She's A Good Vault Girl!), but it mostly just involves her being actively tormented in various situations. idk i don't think she should have to forgive cooper's humanity or lack thereof just because she's So Nice. character arc implied but not executed in a way i find noteworthy.

maximus. face in hands. he's literally maybe the most interesting character on the entire show. the brotherhood even got portrayed as an Actual fucking cult (which it IS. this is the best thing the show did imo). but for WHAT? for a CHARACTER ARC OR DEVELOPMENT OF ANY KIND? nope! he isn't even given the grace of a full scene where he actively realizes and says out loud or internally like. hey. maybe brotherhood............. is bad for me? and others? he goes back to the bos again and again to take his punishment, but still has to be Part of them for the final encounter. and doesn't even get to go with the "you have nothing to lose but your chains... Of Morality" duo at the end. i just want so much more for him & i feel like he's being squandered by the end of the season. i have 600 more things to say but i'm gonna shut. up

shady sands hot take: the ncr needed to be challenged and have the status quo shifted. by a random pissed off prewar man w too many resources being divorced? not really useful to change the worldstate in a meaningful way, to be honest. nuking the capital of the ncr not inherently bad. there being zero power-seeking (on behalf of other factions) behind it happening, NO factions fighting over the scraps (THE NCR WAS MORE THAN ONE CITY), and everything just smoothing back out into bethesda-preferred shantytowns and empty wastes where society isn't what you really have to care about, just your individual morality, is a big yawn for me. we've been here and we've seen this and it comes off worse in a tv show than a first person rpg.

of course all the survivors of shady sands immediately did a cult *from inside a vault* where they smear nuclear corpse ashes on themselves. and there don't seem to be any other survivors of note, just those ones.

i have many more things to say but let's cap it here.

final notes: so many of the things in the show feel like they were done for setpiecing shock value (can you BELIEVE it's ALL CONNECTED? here's some fun unexpected gore) (i actually don't mind the gore bc it's pretty falloutcore but sometimes it's like. okay we get it, shit's crazy in the wasteland!) rather than for actual coherent 'let's advance the world of fallout and its themes and lore' reasons. i understand that they were doing an external-to-games timeline and kind of a mishmash of elements, hence why i'm not bothering to complain about stuff in the show feeling Too Similar to game events - bc i don't really care about that. i care about it feeling like fallout and doing things actually meaningful with fallout's core themes, and at the end of the day, i don't really think i got that.

[alwaysmarveling]

The Incident, The Aftermath

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: Amputation, an explosion, hints at PTSD (it’s a wee bit sad but I promise it gets happier)

Word Count: ~3k

A/N: So I finally got the guts to post something... If you like it, thank Camz :) If you don’t, sorry mi dude, I’m working on it (but constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!).

You’d slipped into the tank top and shorts easily enough, and here you were standing in front of your dresser. One look at the unruly mop atop your head caused you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You carefully ran the brush through your hair, allowing the knots to loosen up one by one.

You’d been leaving your hair down every day since The Incident, but that was two weeks ago. Assuming everything healed properly, Tony and Bruce were going to fit you for a prosthetic in a week, but until then you had to work with what you had… which was one less arm than you were used to having your entire life.

The universe wasn’t being very thoughtful of your adjustment—it was supposed to get up to ninety-five degrees today—so maybe today would be the day to try putting it up. You had seen some people do it on YouTube, and it didn’t seem that difficult. Plus, if you had enough dexterity to wield a knife with one hand and still leave your opponent in pieces, you should be able to put up your hair with one hand easy peasy.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, unsure of what to really do with it. You didn’t see a braid working. You could pin some of it to the side so that it wouldn’t fall in your face, but with the heat, you wanted it completely up. A messy bun could work, though; it was simple, got the hair off of your neck, and it was meant to be a bit untidy. Perfect. With the style in mind, you pushed an elastic around your wrist and set off to work.

Twisting your hair was easy enough. Looping it around to actually form a bun was slightly more difficult, but you managed. When it came time to actually loop the elastic around the bun, though, things got more complicated.

You copied the video, pressing your head against the wall to hold your hair in place while you secured the elastic. However, looping the elastic around the bun without significantly shifting your hair was proving to be extremely difficult. Nevertheless, you managed to do it. The mirror then filled with your reflection as you examined your handiwork.

Handiwork was one word for it. Simply put, it looked like a toddler had done your hair. You weren’t sure how exactly you had messed up since you couldn’t really see behind your head, but you could see the result, and it wasn’t pretty. You let out a puff of air, pulling the elastic out and reaching for your brush. One glance at the clock told you you had enough time for two or three more attempts before you had to call it a day.

Five tries later, you were no better off than you were before. Sure, the bun was supposed to be messy, but there was a certain art to a messy bun. This just looked like a giant cat spit a hairball on top of your head. On top of that, you were now running late to meet Wanda for grocery shopping.

“Miss Y/N,” FRIDAY started.

“Tell her I’ll be down in five,” you sighed, your eyes brimming with tears. You supposed one more day of leaving your hair down wouldn’t kill you even if it was going to be hot, but you just wanted to be able to take care of yourself. You hated seeing the looks of sympathy your teammates gave you every time you had to ask for help for the simplest things, whether it be grabbing a plate at the bottom of the stack or setting up equipment for training.

Sure, things were getting a little easier, like dressing yourself without help. You could deal with the phantom pain. It was excruciating, but pain was one part of the job that you were used to. You had also managed to hide your frustration from the team pretty well since The Incident, but you weren’t sure if that made it any better; half of them seemed like they were walking on eggshells when they were around you.

When it came to the nightmares, though, that was much harder to hide, especially considering you shared a bed with one of the lightest sleepers in the world. You hated waking her up every night, your body soaked in sweat and chest heaving as you forced yourself to remember that it was all over, forced your mind to believe that you were safe even when your body didn’t.

Before you could really understand what was happening, your emotions from the last few weeks bubbled over. Anger, frustration, anguish, and countless others flew to the surface, demanding to be released. Your fingers dug into your hair, yanking on the elastic—along with several strands of hair—until they flew out, hitting the floor somewhere you didn’t care to find. The hairbrush was next, being snatched from the top of the dresser and chucked at the door as hard as you could manage.

“What the- Y/N? Are you okay, babe?”

The thwack of the brush hitting the door caused you to flinch even though you were the one who caused it. Not processing your girlfriend’s muffled words at first, your eyes widened as you stepped back, and for a split second you were transported back to The Incident.

---

You grabbed the last civilian who had fallen behind the others, practically tossing them out of the building before it could explode.

“Y/N! Get out of-” Before Steve could finish his sentence, the building burst into flame, and the blast sent you flying in the air.

When you came to, the only thing you could focus on was the excruciating pain radiating from your elbow. You couldn’t make out exactly what had happened to it, but, wow, to say it hurt was an understatement.

It was several minutes later before the ringing cleared from your ears and you finally realized someone was talking to you.

“Y/N! Y/N, love, please, where are you?” The familiar voice drove you to use the little energy you had left, lifting your head off of the pavement to scan your surroundings. The dust and debris from the explosion made it difficult to see, but you could just make out her shape a few feet away from you.

“Turn… around, you doofus… I’m… behind you,” you wheezed out before letting your head hit the ground.

“Y/N! Oh my god, I thought we-” The second the former assassin saw you, her mouth dropped.

“What is it, Natty?” you asked weakly.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just give me a second, okay? I’m going to get the rest of the team so we can get you out of here.”

“Liar,” you wheezed, half-teasing, half-panicked, but your girlfriend had already turned around. Squinting your eyes, you could just make out the small movements of her lips that told you she was talking, but the chaos and your pain and exhaustion—and probably blood loss, but you didn’t know that at the time—was making it impossible to hear what she was saying.

“Okay, they’re coming,” she reassured you, kneeling down next to you.

“What happened?” you tried again.

“You’re a hero, babe,” the redhead murmured, smoothing back your hair and brushing dirt from your face.

“Yeah?” Your voice was growing weaker, and you were becoming loopier than someone who had just come out of wisdom teeth surgery. Natasha knew it was only moments until you passed out.

“Yeah, you did it, sweet girl. You saved them all.”

“I did? I seriously hope Helen is a superhero too because someone’s going to need to save my arm. God, it hurts.” Natasha only let out a huff at your poor attempt at a joke, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

“Just hold on a little longer for me, okay? Can you do that?” Something wet hit your cheek, making you realize that your girlfriend was crying.

“Of course,” you scoffed. “Don’t…” You left her hanging.

---

After what felt like years, you finally regained your breath and returned to the present. “I’m fine,” you yelled out, your voice wavering. You knew Natasha wouldn’t believe you. Not only was she your girlfriend, but she was literally one of the best spies in the world. Sure enough, she tried to open the door, her efforts in vain since you’d locked it when you were changing.

“Hon, can you please open the door?”

“I’m fine, Nat,” you breathed out, your tone slightly more stable.

“Just let me in,” she pleaded. “Please?” Her soft voice made you sigh in resignation as you wiped your eyes. You tugged your fingers through your hair, trying to tame the bird’s nest on your head at least a little before showing yourself to her.

“Hi,” you practically whispered, not making eye contact with her once you had opened the door.

“Hey,” she responded softly, taking your hand in one of hers and using her other hand to lift up your chin. Rather than saying anything else immediately, she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your forehead as her second hand slid down to completely wrap your one hand in both of hers. The two of you stood in the doorway for a while, eyes closed and hand in hand. You weren’t a super soldier, but you were sure you could hear both of your heartbeats, yours slowing down to beat in tandem with hers.

“You okay?” she finally asked. You nodded slightly, your breathing now back to normal and the tears no longer streaming down your face.

Natasha always had a way of calming you down. You didn’t get frustrated or angry often, but when you did… the rest of the Avengers always joked that you were seconds away from becoming the next Hulk.

The former assassin slowly reached up to untangle your locks, noticing how you flinched when she first reached your hairline.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started with the faintest hint of uncertainty, “It’s been a while since I did your hair, and I saw this new hairstyle online that I thought would look really good on you…”

“Thank you,” you sighed quietly as you leaned into her touch.

“My pleasure,” your girlfriend smirked, pushing you inside your shared bedroom and closing the door behind her. She guided you to sit on the floor as she sat on the edge of the bed behind you. Brush in hand, Nat started sectioning off your hair. A small smile graced her face when you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully enjoy the contact.

Now halfway down your head, she spoke up again. “You know I’ll always be here for you, right?

“Nat…” you warned, although you had nothing to say afterwards, and the redhead took advantage of that.

“I can only imagine how upset you feel about losing your arm-”

“Nat,” you interrupted, your voice slightly harder this time. Natasha sighed as she continued to braid your hair.

“I’m just trying to say that I’m here for you. I was here for you before, and I’m here for you now. The number of limbs that you have doesn’t affect that. It also doesn’t affect your worth. You’re not useless, Y/N. You never were, and you certainly aren’t now.” Despite your best efforts, tears began to trail down your face. Natasha pursed her lips at the sight but continued, knowing that if she stopped now she wouldn’t have another chance to say what she needed to. “You are-” Nat’s fingers froze when you mumbled out something unintelligible, the hand over your mouth preventing you from enunciating. “What was that?” You sighed before speaking again.

“It’s not the arm. It’s not just the arm,” you corrected.

“Then what is it?” She resumed braiding your hair, her voice matching the tenderness in her hands.

“It’s- it’s the- god, this is embarrassing.”

“You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about, love. I’ll never judge you for anything you’re feeling,” the redhead promised, pausing once again to brush her lips above your brow bone.

“It’s the fear, Nat. I can’t go one second without thinking about the explosion. About… losing it. I’m scared 24/7, Nat, and even if I could forget about it for even a moment, I have a constant reminder.” Natasha didn’t have to see your face to know that your eyes had flickered to the remainder of your arm that hung by your side. “And, god,” you laughed bitterly, “god, does it make me feel weak. What kind of Avenger constantly lives in fear and panic? How am I ever supposed to help anyone like this?”

“Y/N.” She stopped braiding your hair for the third time, pulling on it slightly so that you were forced to meet her eyes above you. “You are the strongest person I know. I know you’re scared, but guess what? You went through something super traumatic. It’s okay to be scared. Honestly, I might be more concerned if you came out of that and you weren’t scared at all. All of us get scared, and that’s perfectly valid because being scared does not make you weak. Being scared means you value your life, and that’s a good thing.” She paused her speech to relax her grip on your hair, but your head remained tilted, captivated by the passion and emotion that filled your girlfriend’s face and voice.

“And the Avenger that lives in fear and panic is the same one that was ready to give up her life to save people. You helped people in the past not because you had two arms or because you weren’t scared of stuff. You helped them for the sole reason that you made a commitment to helping others, to making the world a better place, and that is the sole reason why you will still be able to help others.” Natasha’s whole body was trembling. The hands that held your hair were white at the fingertips as she clenched them. 

“I admire you more than anyone else in the world. You’re a hero, Y/N. Not ‘were,’ but ‘are.’ You’re the hero of every single person whose life you saved, and you’re my hero.”

“I didn’t-” Despite your interruption, the spy didn’t stop talking.

“You saved my life, Y/N, the second you walked into it. You give me a reason to live, to wake up every morning. And you’re my hero even more so now than before because you get up every day with a smile on your face, no matter what’s thrown at you.”

“Not much of a smile now,” you sniffed. Despite the tears that blurred your vision, you couldn’t stop the corner of your lips from curling up slightly. Nat laughed at the juxtaposition, finishing up the intricate braids woven in your hair before turning you around to face her.

“But look how quickly that changed,” she teased, pecking your lips after she wiped the tears from your face.

“Thank you,” you repeated for the second time in less than fifteen minutes.

“It was my pleasure. Plus, I was right, this hairstyle does look really good on you.” You bit your lip in embarrassment as you turned your gaze to the floor. “I’ll always do your hair for you, milaya.”

“I was actually thinking of shaving it off,” you smirked. As you examined your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help but agree with Natasha. You looked good, missing arm and all. A little teary-eyed and runny-nosed, but amazing nonetheless.

“Don’t you dare,” your girlfriend scoffed. “I know I said I wasn’t leaving, but I might at that,” she winked.

“Hey!” You tackled her to the ground. Reaching for her abdomen, her eyes widened as your grin grew larger.

“Y/N, don’t you dare-” You talked over her, not paying attention to her threat.

“I can still tickle you with one arm.” The spy didn’t get the chance to respond before you pounced, smiling at the sound of her laughter.

“Stop, Y/N, please!” she managed to get out.

“Are you going to leave me then? Huh?”

“No, no! I won’t! I’ll never leave you! Please, just stop!” You let up on the tickling, gently brushing away the hair that was thrown over her face seconds ago. “Great,” Nat groaned, “now I need to redo my hair.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly. Seeing the pout on her face, you bent down and met her lips with yours.

“I meant it, though.”

“That you need to fix your hair?” Natasha laughed at the way your head had adorably cocked to one side.

“No, silly, that you’re my hero. That you’re the strongest, most admirable person I know. That I’ll always be there for you, and that I’ll always do your hair for you, even when you don’t need me to do it for you any longer.”

“I love you.” You kissed her again. “And I will always love you.” Noticing a slight shift in her face, you paused, studying her expression. “Don’t you dare start singing that song.”

“Miss Y/N, Miss Maximoff is wondering if you are alright.”

“Shoot, I need to go grocery shopping with Wanda!” You scrambled to get off of the floor, smoothing out your clothes before looking for your shoes. “Uh, FRIDAY, tell her I’m so sorry and I’m coming down right now.”

“One more for the road?” Nat pouted just before you reached the door.

“Of course. Thank you again, for everything.” Your lips melted together for a second before you pulled away.

---

“Wanda, I’m here, I’m so, so sorry!” You half-ran, half-slid down the hallway to meet your best friend at the door.

“Hey,” Wanda turned to greet you. “What took you-” She paused upon making eye contact with you. “I like your hair,” she grinned.

“Thanks,” you smiled back, “Nat did it for me.”

[has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong]

How will Caster Gil’s s/o cope with his bad sleeping habits?

Hello anon, thank you for the request. Actually, yeah. I wonder about that too. I did once read an incredible one about a similar topic of Caster Gilgamesh being overwhelmed, which is also a great read!

All right, I'll give it my best ;3

Also Caster Gilgamesh is such a mood to the culture of overwork tbh, it make me feel kinda sad.

S/O Dealing with Caster Gilgamesh's Bad Sleeping Habits

- It had been months, if not almost an entire year since Caster Gilgamesh had taken a proper night's rest.

- He was up long before the cockerel crowed at the crack of dawn, and would remain that way- for even longer than the most nocturnal of night owls.

- In other words, he was working himself to DEATH.

- Whenever you'd visit, to assuage his doubts and reassure him that it's fine if he takes a nap; Caster responds with a simple "I do not require your concern. It is my duty as a king to work peerlessly to ensure that the buffoons' operating within Chaldea do not scrimp upon their duties." Although his words are harsh, what he really means is that he doesn't want you to worry about him. Just having you visit is more than enough.

- However, for you- who has to witness Gilgamesh running himself ragged on a daily basis- such words do naught to appease the doubt gnawing within your chest.

- Often finding yourself in bed alone, your only signal as to Gilgamesh's presence would be when his entire body would flop onto the bed at only the ungodliest hours of night. Not even sparing the time to materialize into a set of pyjamas, he would instantly fall asleep; decked in his regular gear and all!!

- Worried for his health, you'd often help out by removing his shoes (yep he didn't even remove those!!) and sliding his body over so that he could sleep soundly under the bed covers (he didn't even bother to tuck himself in). Sometimes, you'd even have to apply plasters to wounds or even place hot flannels on his face to regulate his temperature. That's how bad he was at taking care of his health.

- You even went as far as to carefully place his stone tablets by the bedside table, due to his overwhelmingly bad habit of literally taking his work to bed with him.

- When Caster Gilgamesh regains enough energy to resume his regular toil for the day, he's secretly moved by how you put in the effort to tuck him in every night. Softly kissing the temple of your forehead, he whispers his gratitude in your ear- only then to sigh once he realizes that you purposely put his tablet in the wrong area gain. "Honestly, this mongrel..."

- The truth is, you're struggling. Not only is he as stubborn as an ox whenever you or others try to negotiate with him, but he won't let anybody help him either! And to top things off, you missed his company greatly. Strangely enough, the two of you did most of your bonding during missions and events (because during those times he'd either be on a rare vacation or assist you for his daily work instead); which meant that you had barely any room at all for couple time!!!

- Tomorrow was a Saturday, which meant that he would be off for the weekend. In other words, it was the perfect time to confront him-once and for all! Resolve steeled within your heart; you prepared yourself for an extremely long night.

- Caster Gilgamesh is GOBSMACKED once he returns to his room. Usually, you'd be fast asleep when he enters. But this time, you had prepared a massive surprise for him. Softly glowing candles were lined across the rooms, illuminating it within a serene light; as the healing scent of lavender embraced the room. In your hands, you had none other than a massager and relaxing ASMR binaural CD set (of whales swimming in the sea) to help Gilgamesh relax to.

- He won't say it aloud, but to come home to a feat like this means a great deal to him.

- Although he is weary, his red eyes flicker with a slight ebb of amusement; as he gathers enough energy to smile. "What possesses you to be roaming around at the witching hours of night, mongrel? Has being on your lonesome made you that eager to embrace your king?"

- Your deadpan reply of "FUCK YES." leaves him utterly startled, to the point where he has to hide an enormous blush- blossoming wildly around his ears. "But look, Gilgamesh. As you're probably on the verge of passing out right now, let me make this quick." As he shrugs off his mini jacket (?)-your hands softly massaging the tight muscles rippling through his back-you finally begin to speak.

- You explain to him that although you understand that he has to work, it would be nice if he could stop overworking; both for his sake and also so that you could spend some more time together as a couple as well. As he often spent the weekends between many groups of people, the two of you barely spent any time on your lonesome.

- "I cannot adhere to such a request. What ails Chaldea ails me in turn, hence why I must continue to toil. Mongrel. I request that you do not press the matter any further. Nonetheless, I shall reward you greatly for the honor you have bestowed upon me tonight. I do adore the delightful little sounds those whales make." Caster Gilgamesh refuses to budge, his words bearing upon your heart like a heavy stone. As he sighs with bliss at your massage skills, you struggle to hold back the tears pricking your eyes.

- It is a long, and lonely night. Staring up at the ceiling as Gilgamesh snores softly by your side, you frown. Was this it, after all? Was this what could possibly break the two of you up?!! Such worries made it all but impossible to enjoy a good night's rest.

- The weekend passes as usual, with the two of you mainly hanging out with separate groups. The heavy weight drowning your heart- like a rock sinking beneath the tumultuous waves of the sea- only heightens in intensity.

- That is until Gilgamesh shocks you in return with a surprise of his own?!!!

- Seated atop your bed at a time as early as 10PM (omg), Caster Gilgamesh apprehends you with a brilliant grin. "Ah, so you have finally decided to bestow your presence before me. Sit." Patting the space beside him with an energy much unlike his usual worn-out countenance, you can't believe your eyes. "Why do you stare at me so? Didn't I tell you that yesterday's activities were much to my liking already?!" A compliment. Yet another rare miracle had occurred.

- As soon as you sit beside him, expression as surprised as pikachu's own; he sidles towards you, a devious grin plastered on his face, as he wraps both arms around you. "Mongrel." Cradling his face against the crook of your neck, his breath lightly fans your face. "Wherever you wish to go, I shall take you there. All you need to do is say the word."

- "?!!" His riddle confuses you to no end. When you ask him what the hell he means by that, he slaps a palm to his forehead in agony.

- "Fool, what do you not understand?! I am professing my desire to take a much-needed rest, just as you suggested!" A blush yet again seeps through his features, for the most unfathomable reason. "After managing to delegate certain responsibilities by placing them on the shoulders of some rather, well, unusually...proficient mongrels; I now have the week off. I shall also be able to return to my quarters at earlier intervals on the odd occasion." As he revealed his true intentions, actual mirth warmed his expression; as you stared back in awe.

- He had heard your advice, and was actually taking it to heart?! "B-but I thought you said...I swear you said..." Your mouth flaps, pure stupefaction taking over your features. You were certain that he wasn't up for negotiation, so what lead to such a change in heart?

- "It would be unbecoming of me not to pay attention to the mongrel yapping at my heels." In Gilgamesh language, this meant that he actually wanted to spend some time with you as well. "Do not be so presumptuous, I shan't cease all work. However, I can archive more time for more... mundane activities, I suppose. I am simply repaying yesterday's favor." How bashful a reply this was!!

- As you thanked him, eagerly talking about the places you wanted to visit by his side and the things you wanted to do for your first ever couple's holiday, one could daresay state that a rather warm feeling radiated within his chest no way would he admit to that.

- It's a good thing you spoke to him about it. This time, he'll try to fit in some more time for the sake of his own health and for you, as well. not like he'll admit that though

[adsdragonlover]

You Matter To Me

Coda to 15x19

Wc: 2k, Tags: fluff, pie, happy ending, first kiss

Also on ao3

It’s been three weeks since they won, but Dean still isn’t happy.

He’s been driving around the country, searching for something he knows he won’t find. The thing he wants that he knows he can’t have. He lost his chance.

Eventually, he ends up at a diner.

Lulu’s Pies, it says in softly glowing neon cursive above the building.

The bell above the door chimes as Dean pushes it open and steps inside. It’s pleasantly warm compared to the cold night outside, but Dean still feels cold. At least on the inside.

He heads to the bar and sits down on one of the stools.

With a cursory and habitual glance around the diner, he realizes he’s the only one here. At least the only customer.

That makes sense, he supposes. It’s barely 3 AM and the diner is plopped in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. The only other signs of life in the area are the long winding road outside and the shitty old gas station a few miles back.

To be honest, Dean doesn’t quite know why he came here. Maybe he needed a break from the drive.

He wanted to get some pie - the place was literally named for its pies - but that was mainly out of habit rather than actual desire. It’s been hard to want any of the things he used to enjoy, not since…

He cuts off that train of thought with a scowl to himself.

The waitress, a sweet looking woman with long, wavy, dark blonde hair and deep blue eyes approaches Dean from the other side of the bar. “What can I get for you, sugar?” she asks with a warm voice, rich with a soft southern accent. It reminds him, inexplicably, of his mother.

“I-“ Dean stops. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly.

The waitress, Jenna, according to her name tag, smiles sympathetically. “That’s alright,” she says sweetly. “It can be hard to know what you want, especially when you lose someone dear to you.”

Dean frowns. “How did you-” He begins.

Jenna smiles sadly at Dean. “There are some things a mother just knows, and heartbreak is one of them.” Her eyes are understanding, and painfully blue - too close to Castiel’s eyes for comfort. Dean looks away. “You look like you could use a slice of pie,” she says, handing him a paper dessert menu, specifically made for this week. “They’re all made from scratch, and made from the heart. Take all the time you need, honey. I’ll be back with a cup of coffee for you, it’s on the house.”

Jenna’s words soothe something raw and stinging inside Dean, and he offers her a small smile as she heads back into the kitchen.

He looks over the menu with a tired sigh. Not too long ago, Dean would’ve killed to eat here. All the pies sound awesome, and something about the waitress makes it very clear she puts effort into her pies.

Still, his heart isn’t really in it.

When Jenna comes back with a mug of coffee and a smile, Dean nods thankfully, but shakes his head when she asks if he’s ready to order. “I just- I need more time,” he says.

He isn’t just talking about the food. Not anymore.

Jenna nods. “Just give me a call when you’re ready, hun,” and then she’s gone.

Dean isn’t really sure how long he sits there, staring blankly at the dessert menu, coffee warming up one of his hands, his soul feeling achingly empty.

He's snapped out of his stupor by the sound of the bell above the door chiming to indicate someone else entering.

Dean’s eyes are glued to the menu still, reading the blurb under Heartbreak Pie. It's a black bottomed cherry pie, and the picture stops him.

He hears footsteps walk over, but he ignores them. They come closer until the stranger sits down on the stool to the right of Dean.

Dean feels irritation flash through him briefly, the diner is completely empty, and Dean’s positive he’s radiating “leave me alone” vibes, but for some reason the stranger decides to sit next to him anyway.

The irritation is gone as fast as it appeared however, Dean just doesn’t have the energy. Not anymore.

A couple days after they’d won, after Jack had left and Sam had reunited with a newly brought back Eileen, Dean had broken down in the bunker.

He’d lost it a little, had cried and cried and cried for days. Begging and pleading and praying. But Cas hadn’t come back.

Not long after, the sadness had turned to anger. Anger at Cas, for making the deal in the first place. For loving Dean so much it killed him. For telling him and then leaving before Dean could say it back. Anger at Jack, for dying and causing the deal, for becoming God and not bringing Cas back, for leaving Dean just like Cas had, just like Sam.

But mostly, Dean had been angry with himself. For not saying it back when Cas told him, for just standing there, for being the reason Cas died, for being too stubborn and too scared to say anything sooner, back when he’d had the chance. He was angry at himself for not being everything that Cas apparently thought he was.

Those few days were fueled entirely by anger in Dean’s opinion. He knew, deep down, that the anger was caused by love, but he didn’t want to think about that. Because if Cas was right, if he was right about Dean then there really wasn’t any good reason why Dean had never said anything.

Those few days were fueled entirely by anger. He knew, deep down, that the anger was caused by love, but he didn’t want to think about that. Because if Cas was right, if he was right about Dean then there really wasn’t any good reason why Dean had never said anything.

Nowadays though, Dean just felt numb. He drives around in Baby with the hopes of bringing something back into his life, but nothing helps.

He almost missed it, he was so lost in thought, and he barely caught the tail end of Jenna asking the stranger what she could “-get for you, dear?”

“I’ll have a slice of cherry pie,” came the low and gravelly voice, and Dean’s heart stopped, “and a slice of apple pie for my friend here,” Castiel finished.

Dean could barely hear Jenna’s acknowledgement and departure over the sudden ringing in his ears and the unavoidable bloom of hope in his chest.

He wants to look over, he does. He wants to see for himself if it really is Cas. Or if he's finally going crazy. But he can't move. He's frozen in his spot.

And then Cas’ hand comes to rest on Dean’s shoulder, right where his handprint had been, both as a scar that was no longer there, and as a bloody stain on a jacket Dean kept in the trunk of the impala for safekeeping. That movement, that touch, it was undeniably Castiel, and it forced Dean into action.

He turns his head, and looks his best friend in the eyes for the first time in what feels like forever.

And it's Castiel. Undoubtedly. He has the same messy hair, the same stubble, the same beautiful blue eyes, same dirty trench coat, the same stubbornly crooked blue tie.

“Cas?” Dean croaks, voice wobbling, painfully close to cracking.

Castiel smiles softly and the sight of it brings endless relief to Dean. And when Cas responds with, “Yes. Hello, Dean.” The relief doubles until it floods over Dean so completely his hands begin to shake.

“Cas,” he starts, voice trembling almost as much as his hands. “I- you- how-?”

“Oh look, our pie,” Cas says, cutting Dean off as their slices of pie are placed down in front of them.

“Cas, listen-” Dean begins quietly.

“Dean,” Cas interrupts. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk, I promise. Just eat your pie.”

And maybe, some other time, Dean would’ve been worried, would’ve been suspicious over Cas’ clear redirection. But he isn't. Because Castiel’s eyes are earnest and honest.

And Dean suddenly understands. Cas doesn't want to talk about it yet. He doesn't know how Dean is going to respond. He wants to have this first, just a quiet, peaceful moment.

So Dean nods, and begins to eat his pie.

It is really good pie, especially a regular apple pie, and it's probably the best apple pie he’d had in years. Mentally, Dean decides to give Jenna a large tip.

He’s halfway through eating his pie when he can’t do it anymore. Not with the way he could feel Cas watching him contentedly, fondly.

“Cas, listen, I-”

“It’s alright, Dean,” Cas says, cutting him off again, but Dean can’t be mad at it. He just needs to keep going.

“No,” he says sternly, looking stubbornly down at his half-eaten slice of pie. “No, it’s not Cas. It’s not alright, and I need to say this.”

He looks back up at Cas and waits for his response. When Cas nods in understanding, Dean takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes to steady himself briefly before opening them back up and looking Cas in the eyes. “Cas, I love you,” Dean says quietly. “You gotta know I love you too.”

Cas’ eyes widen slightly before his expression softens to something so fond it would probably make Dean uncomfortable had it been coming from anyone else. “I know,” he says with a smile that’s almost a grin.

“You kno-?” Then Dean gets it. “Oh you little shit,” he laughs. “You did not know, you don’t get to Han Solo me, you asshat,” Dean says with a wide grin.

Cas chuckles and the sound warms Dean up from the inside out. “My apologies, Dean. It seemed fitting and I figured you’d appreciate it.” Cas ducks his head slightly, avoiding eye contact, though he’s still smiling.

“Hey,” Dean says, and he reaches out and grabs Cas’ hand. “There’s no need to apologize, man.” Dean’s grinning too, and, distantly, he figures he should probably make an effort to stop calling Cas “man” and “buddy”, considering the fact that he’s in love with the stupid angel.

Cas’ smile widens and he looks back up, meeting Dean’s gaze as he turns his hand over and laces their fingers together almost hesitantly.

The flood of warmth the action brings Dean, as well as the hesitation in Cas’ eyes, brings Dean to squeeze their hands automatically, reassuringly.

All the hesitance in Cas’ expression melts away, and he practically beams at Dean. “You should finish your pie, Dean,” he suggests softly.

“So should you,” Dean points out.

Cas chuckles again and shakes his head. “It only tastes like molecules to me. I’ll get a to-go box for it and you can finish it for me later,” he says, and the ‘later’ in that sentence fills Dean with joy.

They aren’t over. There’s going to be a “later” for the two of them.

He grins at Cas and squeezes his hand before turning back to his delicious pie.

It’s after he finishes it that he gets an idea, and he grins. “Hey Cas, you wanna taste it? It’s pretty good.”

Castiel frowns and does his confused little head tilt that Dean has always secretly found unbearably cute. He realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have to keep that a secret anymore, and the thought makes him smile.

“Dean, I don’t understand,” Cas says slowly, “there isn’t any pie le-” and then the look on Dean’s face must sink in, because he cuts off with a slowly growing and a little shy smile. “...yes,” he says finally. “I would like a taste.”

“Good,” Dean says, and then he reaches over with both hands, wrapping one around Cas’ arm and cupping the back of his neck with the other as he pulls his angel into a kiss.

Castiel melts into it, and Dean feels a little like he’s glowing from the inside out, he’s so happy.

When they pull away, Dean is still grinning. “Well?” he says. “Did you like the taste?”

Cas is wearing a matching grin. “Hmmm,” he says with mock thoughtfulness. “I’m not sure, I think we should do it again, so I can have another taste.”

God, Dean is in love.

They meet again in the middle for another kiss.

Dean’s face almost hurts from smiling so much after such a long time of not smiling at all. And he knows, as they hold each other close in the pie diner, that they have the rest of their lives to spend together.

And Dean is happy.

Tag list! Ask to be added or removed!

@dreamnovak @tearsofgrace @bluebell-24 @rambleoncas

[thesoulspulse]

Reconcile (Good Vlad AU ~ Oneshot)

It happened in early winter, that's all he could tell because of the first signs of snowfall outside of the window next to his bed at the hospital. Vlad had been there for, what, a month or so? Kept in isolation from everyone apart from a couple of doctors and nurses. Honestly, it was entirely possible Vlad had been there for longer for all he knew since every day blurred into the next after the accident.

Vlad couldn't feel it though, the cold, because these days his skin always felt either unnaturally chilly or feverishly hot to the touch. The only constant Vlad could feel was pain. The morphine helped ease that pain a little bit, but all that was left to feel after that was this cold numbness. And since the doctors thought he had been exposed to radiation of some kind -which to be fair they weren't wrong- no one has been allowed to see him after he was admitted there.

But still, Vlad had hoped his friends would come see him eventually. And more importantly, he wanted the chance to give Jack a piece of his mind! That...that traitor knew the portal experiment was unstable and potentially dangerous and yet he still pressed the-

“Excuse me, are you awake Mr. Masters? You have a visitor,” a nurse called after knocking on the door and poking her head inside.

At first Vlad was happy that he had a visitor, hoping it would be Maddie so he could get these feelings off his chest about how angry he was at Jack...but as soon as he saw the large silhouette waiting outside the door he knew there was only one person that would have come here to see him who had such a wide girth. It was Jack. But he wasn't ready to see him, not yet, not when all Vlad could think about is how his best friend had almost killed him...

Turning his head away Vlad finally muttered, “Sorry, I'm not feeling well. Please tell them to come back lat-ER!”

Vlad grunted the last word of that sentence as Jack burst into the room, tears rolling down his cheeks as the man called him by that ridiculous nickname of Vladdy he insists on using. Normally Vlad could shrug it off, but right now the nickname felt insulting somehow as if Jack was making light of what happened the last time they saw each other. Either way it's a good thing Maddie actually was there and managed to help the nurse pry him off, reminding Jack that Vlad's in the hospital as a patient so giving him a bear hug wasn't the best idea.

Regardless, Jack looked at Vlad's bandaged face and sobbed, “I'm so sorry V-man. We tried to come sooner but they wouldn't let us in! We were so worried about you!”

Nodding, Maddie put a supportive hand on Jack's shoulder and continued awkwardly. “He's right, as soon as we recovered from the shock of what had happened to you we immediately went looking for you but you had already collapsed somewhere. Jack was heartbroken and didn't understand what went wrong with the portal. I tried to find out too but it was no use, whatever happened fried the wiring and-”

Cutting herself off as soon as she realized she was going off on a tangent when their friend's well-being was much more important, Maddie dropped her hand from Jack's shoulder and asked with a sad smile, “How're you feeling? Have they been taking good care of you? I tried to explain your condition to the doctor but...they didn't believe me about it being related to ectoplasmic energy.”

“Why would they? As far as they're concerned ghosts don't exist,” Vlad replied with a guarded expression, unwilling to admit he tried to do the exact same thing only for his arguments to be thoroughly dismissed since he's not a doctor. “As for the rest they're...doing the best they can I suppose.”

An awkward silence filled the room since none of them knew what to say after that, but then, Jack spoke up and said, “Vladdy? Um, I know it's a bit squished but I made this for you. It's...my way of saying sorry for everything. I should have listened to you and Mads when you told me to stop.”

Reaching into one of the many pockets of his jumpsuit which according to Jack was handed down to him by his grandfather and designed after an outfit one of his ghost-hunting ancestors wore, he handed Vlad what appeared to be a misshapen block of homemade fudge. The gesture might not have seemed like a big deal to anyone else, but for Jack who absolutely loved the stuff and couldn't help himself from eating almost all of it himself in one sitting whenever he made or bought it, however, the fact that Jack was sharing an entire serving of it just for Vlad really was his way of showing his sincerity. Similarly, Maddie reached into her bag and pulled out a couple of her ghost folklore books for him to read since she figured Vlad must have been bored laying in bed all day.

Vlad was at a loss for words because he had almost given up hope that they'd ever come visit him, hope that Jack would own up to his mistakes for once and apologize. But since he did, Vlad couldn't stay mad. He wanted to, but couldn't, not since this forgetful yet earnest man had gone out of his way to finally come see him. The same goes for Maddie, Vlad was sure she felt guilty too for not stopping Jack in time since she's always been the more careful of the two when it comes to their experiments...

Accepting their gifts but resisting the urge to wipe the tears from his eyes since his face still hurt, Vlad held them in his lap and sniffled, “Thank you. Thank you both for coming. I...was afraid you had abandoned me.”

“Come on V-man, give me a little credit,” Jack smiled, gently punching Vlad's shoulder. “You're my best friend! I know I can be careless and stupid sometimes, but friends have to stick together through thick and thin don't they? We'll get through this together and then maybe we can try again with the ghost portal. We were so close!”

Grimacing at the thought of going anywhere near that portal again, Vlad was relieved when Maddie interjected and said, “Jack, don't forget that it's our fault this happened so before any of that we need to make sure Vlad's going to be ok. We don't know what that portal did to him and the doctors are only going to be able to help him so much. The best thing we can do for him is go back to square one and find out what we did wrong so it doesn't happen again.”

“Shoot, you're right. I'm sorry,” Jack apologized, looking dejected. “Don't worry Vladdy, I'll make this all up to you I promise! And we'll visit more too!”

Smiling weakly more because it hurt to move his face too much, Vlad nodded, “I'd like that.”

Soon after that, before Maddie could comment on anything else the nurse shooed them out so they could get Vlad ready for his next check up. But as soon as he was alone again Vlad reached over to set the fudge and books on the desk next to him when they unexpectedly slipped through his fingers. Blinking in confusion but brushing it off as clumsiness, he sighed and swung his feet over the bed so he could bend down to pick them up again. This time though, when he reached for them again they didn't just slip through his fingers as a figure of speech...they LITERALLY passed through them! Alarmed Vlad recoiled from both objects, his heart racing when he mustered the courage to look at his hands only to find they were translucent.

Realizing his sudden spike in heart activity would alert the hospital staff Vlad concentrated as hard as he could to restore his fingers to a solid state again. It took some effort but thankfully he managed to pull it off. It was in that moment though that Vlad realized, for better or worse, his relationship with Jack and Maddie would never be the same again...

And neither would he.

~

Note: I normally don’t write fully-fledged story content on tumblr apart from headcanon ideas or sharing updates about new chapters for my fanfics, but since I had started this oneshot before my Good Vlad AU started to really kick off and wasn’t that far along I adapted it into a special oneshot about Jack and Maddie coming to see Vlad at the hospital after the accident. I always wondered why they never did and usually assumed Vlad turned them away himself (mostly Jack) along with the doctors and his friends eventually move on and kind of forgot about him for all those years.

Either way, I wanted to see what could have happened if they managed to fix things with Vlad sooner while still on somewhat good terms before that sense of abandonment and resentment for Jack could take root in Vlad’s heart. Hopefully that comes across here in this little story snippet! I might post this on my actual fanfiction account later but for now, it’s here for you guys especially!

[whimsicallyreading]

Dark Roast, No Sugar

Part Two

Aelin leaned her head against a solid chest and counted the beats. These stolen moments were what she and Sam lived for. His breaths were even, and the gentle rumble of thunder outside assured their temporary safety.

 Arobynn's plain was delayed due to the torrential downpour flooding Rifthold. They'd received the text at the same time, and Sam immediately came to find her. Sneaking into the manor was risky, but Tern, Harding, and Mulligan were all occupied, and no one would dare enter Arobynn's office while he was away.

Well, everyone besides them. The danger was definitely worth it, Aelin mused as she stretched like a cat and sprawled into a more comfortable position over the muscled torso. A hand reached up and dragged calloused fingers through her hair, making her preen with satisfaction.

 Sam chuckled from below her, spread out like a starfish on Arobynn's poached polar bear rug. She felt sad for the untimely death of the creature, but she couldn't deny it made the perfect spot for their rendezvous.

 "We can't stay like this forever," Sam reminds her gently. He works his fingers down her long blond hair to the nape of her neck, where he works at the knotted muscles.

 "Not now, but soon," she reminds him as if he wasn't the one to concoct their crazy escape plan.

 A kiss pressed against her forehead marks the seal of his promise. "Soon," he agrees. "This hell will be over for you and me." The conviction of his voice lets that little tealight of hope in her chest flicker dangerously.

 "We will be free. The only dreams we will be having is what our home together will look like," she nuzzles into his chest and urges him to keep going. He knows she likes it when he talks long term to her.

"In the mornings, I will wake up to you in my bed. Your hair all over the place, and your arms constricting me like a hungry python."

 She cracks her eyes open at that and gives him a sleepy glare.

 "I wouldn't change a single thing about it," he continues. "Knowing you are safe with me is all I will ever need to be happy. Waking up to you in my arms is enough beauty to sate me wherever we end up. I'll be the happiest man alive."

 Tears burned the corners of her eyes, and a lump ached in her throat. For so long, she'd been deprived of affection and relationships of any kind. Aelin couldn't help the feeling of free-falling every time Sam declared his love. It was a treasure she thought she'd never had again. "I love you, Sam," Aelin whispers against his chest and presses a messy kiss to the muscle there.

 "Then why didn't you look for me?" His voice cracks in pain.

 Startled, Aelin's head shoots up. Ice chills her blood, and the screams that pour from Aelin's mouth are unearthly when she's faced with the gaping holes where his eyes should be.

 His eyes. She feels that familiar pain beneath her ribs. Those eyes that had been so kind. Made her feel so safe and radiated warmth. Aelin mourned their loss. Mourned him.

 "You didn't look for me," those damning words left his lips again.

 Aelin wakes up with a sob. "I'm sorry," she yells to the empty room.

 "I'm sorry," she keens. There are no hands in her hair. No beating heart beneath her cheek. She curls into a ball and grabs locks of her hair, pulling at them until strands fall loosely into her hand. The agony builds until it pinches her gut so hard and wrenches her heart so profoundly that she barely makes it to the toilet before hot, acidic bile burns a path up her throat.

 It burns through her over and over until she's leaned against the toilet seat sobbing. Her arms wrapped around her midsection protectively.    

 Morning sickness should have passed by now, but she still spent a great deal of time in this position. It never got less painful, and Aelin's seemed more aggressive than what other mothers recounted experiencing online. Her constant sickness and nightmares were leaving her feeling weak.

 Maybe it was a punishment for bringing a little life into a world that had savaged its father? That thought crossed Aelin's mind often. Perhaps it was penance for her selfishness. Her wanting to keep this small piece of Sam despite knowing the kind of life it would be subjected to endure.

 There was no forgiveness for the things she's done. Why would the universe let her have this? She should just be grateful it hadn't been taken from her entirely.

 Spineless, coward.

 Aelin laid curled up on the bathroom floor for hours. Existing in a constant cycle of sickness followed by mental torment. Chills wracked her frame, and she trembled on the cold tile. She barely had the energy to lift herself up when the urge to vomit struck her. Words floated in her head, furthering her misery.

 Coward. Liar. Oathbreaker. Life taker.

 That's where Lysandra found her, at a much more reasonable hour of the morning. Aelin was so tired she could only sob when the door cracked open. Her head fell forward and rested against the porcelain seat, too weak to hold it up any longer.

 Lysandra had cringed and very gently guided her head from the toilet rim to her shoulder, nestling Aelin's forehead into the crook of her neck despite the cold-sweat there.

 She crooned sweet nothings and soothed Aelin until she had the strength to stand up and collect herself. Lysandra helped her dress and brush her teeth. She left Aelin to sit on the couch and came back with lightly buttered toast, a glass of water, and a cup of ginger tea.

 Her attempt to decline it was futile. Lysandra left no room for argument. Slowly, Aelin bit the toast and sipped the tea. Bite by bite and drink by drink, she finished the breakfast.

 Lysandra didn't relent her hovering for the rest of the morning. As she was forced through her morning routine under her friend's watchful eye, she began to feel more human, and that awful pain slowly faded to the background of her mind. Nausea still rolled in her belly, but the food and drink helped settle it enough for her to function.

 Now here Aelin was, only a couple of hours later, filling muffin cups to have ready for the early morning regulars.

Her attitude was dismal.

 She felt sick. Her body ached from hours of lying on the cold tile. Sweat soaked her clothes and chilled her forehead. Just looking at her cup of tea made her angry that it wasn't coffee, but her stomach burned so furiously that not even coffee sounded good. It was a horrible paradox and was only just that much more upsetting.

 Aelin felt her eyes begin to burn with tears, and she slammed the bowl of batter down so hard that it splattered up her apron. She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes and tried to will the tears back down.

 Maybe she would cave to Lysandra's demands that she go upstairs and rest. It went grated against her desire to be self-sufficient and independent, but taking a hot bath and curling up in her bed sounded like pure bliss. The baby would likely benefit from her decompressing, too. That thought sold her on the idea.

 The bell at the counter rang.

 Aelin took a deep breath and washed her hands quickly. She would take this customer and then let Lysandra know she was taking the day off.

 Thinking of the jasmine soap and the warm blanket waiting for her upstairs was just enough for her to plaster on a smile.

 "Goodmorning, how can I- you," The last word came out in a hiss. Aelin's smile melted as quickly as it came.

 The asshole was back, and he brought a friend.

 Whoop-dee-freaking-doo.

 To his credit, the friend was equally as beautiful as the Asshole himself. He had dark skin, the color of polished pennies, and long blonde hair that coiled just above the arches of his cheekbones. If his choice of companionship didn't perturb Aelin so much, she might've found him attractive.

 Hell, she found him attractive anyway.

 "Is that how you greet all your customers, sweetheart?" The friend smiled at her, and his perfect teeth were bright enough to signal plains.

 "Do you call every girl sweetheart or only the ones you want to spit in your coffee?" Her tone is sharp enough to cut glass, and the man's eyes widen at the challenge.

 "I don't drink coffee, but I supposed the hot chocolate I was going to order is just as easy to violate," he laughs warmly, and her eyes follow the motion of his adam's apple. "How about I lay off the pet names in exchange for a warm cup of sugar without saliva?" His face was sincere enough that she felt less inclined to spite him for his choice of friends.

 "Your name?" she asks.

 "Fenrys," he offers without a joke, and Aelin writes it on a cup.

"I want a dark roast, black." The asshole reiterated his order from the day before. He had his arms crossed, and his face was set in a grimace. His comment the other day still rang in her ears, and she was certainly not feeling generous. Aelin scowled at him and left them both at the counter without a word.

 It only took a few minutes to make the cocoa. She made every cup from scratch with a recipe she'd been perfecting since childhood. As she prepped the drink, the store bells rang again.

 Turning around with the drink, she spotted her cousin Aedion at the door and smiled.

 She and Aedion had been separated by the system shortly after her parent's death. He was five years older, and their caseworker though Aelin stood a better chance of being adopted by herself. It was a traumatic memory for both of them. They'd found each other about a year ago, and it took little time for them to rekindle their relationship.

 She set the cup on the counter in front of them. "That will be three-fifty." The Asshole raised a pale eyebrow. "My coffee?"

"I have the right to refuse services to anyone I wish. That will be three-fifty." Aelin felt great satisfaction as The Asshole's lips pinched together and his scowl deepened.

 Aedion raised his eyebrow from across the room.

Lysandra chose that moment to walk back in, and when she caught sight of Aelin's expression and saw the seething man in front of her, she hastily made her way over.

"Can I help you?" She asks, looking towards the men. Aelin knew the question was directed at her, though.

 There were a lot of eyes on her. Aedion. Asshole. Handsome Fenrys. Lysandra. Aelin thrived on attention, but there was a difference between attention and being a spectacle. The room suddenly felt a lot smaller and crowded.

 Fenrys placed a hand on the Asshole's shoulder, concerned. "Hey. It's fine. We can get your cup of dirt water somewhere else. It's not a big deal, Rowan."

 Rowan.

 "I am a paying customer," the man, Rowan, gritted through his teeth.

 "You are paying for my coffee and pastries," Aelin snarled. "Your money does not purchase you the right to verbally abuse me.

 Aedion was over in an instant, chest puffed and oozing with male bravado. "Well met, gentleman. I believe my cousin said three-fifty." He edged close enough to bother their personal space. "If it's too difficult for you to figure out, I can help you count your coins and show you the door?"

 At six-two, Aedion was an intimidating figure. He was physically massive—layers of dense muscle from underground fighting and patrolling the streets with his gang, The Bane. An impressive tapestry of ink sprawled across his chest, curling out of his sleeves and collar just enough to let others know it's there. Most people would see him and think twice about approaching him.

 Rowan was taller than Aedion even, and perhaps more muscular as well. They squared up, neither breaking eye contact.

 Fenrys seemed displeased with the turn of events, but when Aedion turned to glare at him, there was a flash of recognition in his eyes. He was next to Rowan in an instant, pushing on his chest. "That's enough of your shit. I'll pay, and we are leaving."

 He fished out five dollars from the pocket of his trousers and tossed it on the counter. "Keep the change. Sorry for disturbing your day, ladies."

 When the shop bells jingled, and the door slammed shut behind them, Aelin sighed and felt herself wilt against the counter. Her breathing was labored, and her heart still thrummed with the excess of adrenalin. She was prepared for a fight. Muscle memory had her tense and ready for the situation to escalate, which of course, it didn't. Old habits died hard, though.

 A steadying hand was gripping her elbow and helping her lean into a solid body. "Hey, Ace. Relax, it's fine."

 Lysandra shook her head, "That was the bastard from yesterday, I am guessing? You should have let me take care of that." She points up the stairs. "Go. You need to take a day off. Upstairs. Make sure she sits down, Aedion."

 "I had it handled," Aelin grumbled, allowing Aedion to tug her towards the stairs in the back of the little kitchen.

 Her cousin snorted, "Oh, I know you can handle yourself. The stress isn't good for Little A, though."

 "You just want to throw your street cred around."

 Aedion laughed, "That too."

 Aelin slumped onto the thread worn couch and tugged at her tennis shoes. She sighed when they finally slipped off, and she could rest her swollen feet on the old coffee table. Their apartment wasn't the luxury she and Lysandra were accustomed to, but it was more of a home than the Mannor had been.

 "You look exhausted," Aedion stated bluntly.

 Aelin closed her eyes and hummed. "Is that the language you use when you talk people into your bed?"

 "Not a lot of talking is required for that," Aedion says with a straight face. "Even if it was, I would be practicing on Lysandra, not you."

 Few words passed between them after that. They weren't necessary. Aelin and Aedion talked and texted all the time, but there were times when they just needed to soak in each other's presence. Years apart starved them of that unspoken bond they'd had as children.

 Being close to Aedion was one of the few things that staved the fear and allowed her to relax. He was like the familiar taste of hot tea and the warmth of a childhood blanket wrapped into one. She had no doubt that Lysandra had called and ordered him to come to see her at some point this morning.

 The Bane typically showed up on Friday nights to play poker at her tables and hang out. Aedion would stay through the weekend, and they would catch up then. An early morning visit on a weekday was out of the ordinary. Occasionally Kyllian or Jerome would pop by and make sure nothing was amiss.

 When Aelin and Lysandra liberated themselves and opened the shop, Aedion had insisted they find a location in The Bane's stomping ground. Arobynn was less likely to stumble across them outside of his territory. She'd seen Tern and Mulligan prowling the streets.

 Arobynn wouldn't let them go so quickly.

 Aelin hadn't wanted Aedion to get involved, but there was no way he would leave them defenseless.

 They compromised.

 Once a month Aelin would donate a small share of The Stag's tips for their protection. It was a pitiful amount. So she also offered her spare bedroom as a hideaway for Aedion's friends who needed a place to lay low. So far, only Ren had utilized it, but it was always ready to go.

 Aelin was by no means someone to screw with. Her other name was just as well known on the streets as The Bane were. It was a good arrangement.

 It's why Rowan had gotten under her skin so badly. She needed those tips to keep The Bane well equipped and for other resources to keep Arobynn out of her hair.

 He didn't know about the baby. Didn't realize the depth of how much Aelin had actually betrayed him. There would be hell to pay if he ever found out.

 Plus, baby shit was expensive.

 "So," Aedion finally broke the silence. "How did you piss off the cops?"

 Wait. "What?" Aelin sat up and leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

 "That was Detective Fenrys. He booked me the last time one of our fights got broken up. Nice guy. Let me out on a technicality." Aedion smiled. "Maybe he just thought I was good looking. He's not wrong. I am assuming the other guy is his partner."

 "They are detectives?" Aelin spat.

 "The best and brightest Orynth has to offer," Aedion ruffled her hair as he stood. "You sure know how to pick your fights, cousin."

 Well shit.

[peachyteez]

death’s grip ≫ DAY TWO, LITTLE CUB.

the tiger hybrid managed to escape from south korea’s top illegal hybird ring fights. of course, they didn’t let him go so easily. losing his chasers in a forest, covered in blood—his and others’—he decided to accept his fate of death from his wounds until a female and two other hybrids managed to take him from death’s grip.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @choisaniskillingme, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @alienmashup, @panini, @moon8894, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa, @etherealbyeol, @hwaseongzzz, @koasworld, @lovely-sanie, @orbitiiny

can’t be tagged: @yoongisleftboob

feel free to let me know if you would like to be part of the list! :)

✧ notes: went on a lil tangent towards the end buuut ┐(︶▽︶)┌

back。| next。

hongjoong slowly drifted in and out of consciousness. as he slowly came back to reality, so did his senses. the constant beeping of a machine next to him, the painfully familiar hospital antiseptic, the soft mattress he was laying on—wait.

mattress? shooting up in the hospital bed, hongjoong examined his surroundings. instead of the forest where he swore he was just at, he was inside what seemed to be a hospital room. feeling something in his arm, his eyes widened when he looked down. there was a needle in his arm. following the tube that was connected to the needle, he looked up and noticed a clear fluid in a bag that was slowly dripping out. his mind went into panic mode, not understanding what had happened and how he had gotten there in the first place.

suddenly, the door of his room automatically opened and he made eye contact with a familiar woman. the woman from the forest? 

she smiled, seeing him conscious. “good morning, hongjoong,” she greeted. “how do you feel?”

hongjoong blinked, still trying to process the situation. looking down at himself, he realized he was no longer wearing his own clothes, but rather a baby blue hospital top and bottom. he looked back up to her, confusion written all over his face. 

jiyu chuckled. “do you remember? you were bleeding out in the forest and i called the facility’s rescue team to bring you back here. don’t worry, i didn’t change your clothes. yeonjun did. and we cleaned your...many wounds and bandaged them up for you.”

peeking down through the neckline of the top, he indeed noticed the white gauze and bandaging that covered his entire torso. there were even some on his arms and legs. 

“yeonjun washed you up, too,” she sheepishly admitted. “we didn’t realize how much dirt and...blood you had on you until he washed you.” hongjoong had so much dirt and blood that you couldn’t even see the orange fur of his ears and tail. 

“...why?” hongjoong stuttered out, utterly confused. “why did you help me? we don’t even know each other.”

jiyu cocked her head in confusion. “i don’t have to know you to help. the caretakers here don’t know any of the hybrids when they first come in, but that doesn't stop us from trying to help,” she explained with a soft smile. “there’s some good out in the world, hongjoong.”

some good. does that mean he’s gotten the bitter end of the spectrum his whole life?

“other than your wounds,” jiyu continued as she looked through his file, “you don’t have any life-threatening injuries, thank god. but you will have to remain here in the facility for a few weeks for you to fully recover. from how you reacted to me two days ago, i can tell you’ve been through a lot.” 

hongjoong slightly winced at her words. “two days ago?” he asked, slightly horrified. 

“you passed out in the ambulance and you were knocked out the whole day yesterday,” she revealed. “most likely from exhaustion and pain.”

he blankly nodded. he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he had been rescued, or so he hopes. judging from his environment and the woman in front of him, he was pretty sure that was the case. “...you won’t bring me back, right? to my owners?” he quietly asked. the pain, the blood, the sound of the crowds cheering and chanting for a kill. he winced. he never wanted to kill them. he never wanted to hurt them. he did it to survive, to see another sunrise from his cage. 

jiyu furrowed her eyebrows. “if you don’t want to go back, then i won’t force you. although, i don't know where you would go after recovering. judging from your behavior, i can tell you didn’t have the brightest life, am i right?” 

hongjoong didn’t say anything, he just stared down at his clasped hands in his lap. taking his silence as a yes, she felt her heart ache. he’s like seonghwa and yunho. she felt her anger slowly rise. there’s some messed up people in this world, i swear i’m gonna track them down.

shaking the thoughts off, she looked at hongjoong again. “don’t worry, you’re safe here, i promise,” she reassured. “and if you feel uncomfortable in the slightest way, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

hongjoong observed the woman. it was amazing how easily she was willing to go to such lengths to help him. and for what? what was her motive? what would she get out of it? he suddenly remembered the two hybrids that was with her that day.

“your hybrids...” he started, unsure of how to word his question. what did you do to make them trust you so easily? he wanted answers. something, anything  that would put down the little bud of doubt and distrust inside. he didn’t want to be betrayed again.

“seonghwa and yunho?” she asked, taking a seat on the chair next to his bed. “what about them?”

he fidgeted with his tail. “...what did you do?” 

jiyu silently thought about his question. what did she do? she didn’t do anything special—she just did what she assumed anyone with a heart would do. care for them, love them, respect them. it’s just the basic manners. she wryly smiled. “nothing special or manipulating if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said. “you’d think it’s just basic manners to show hybrids some love and respect, but i guess not for everyone.”

she looked over the bandaging on his arm. “i don’t know how your life was like before ending up in the forest, but let me make one thing clear. not everyone in the world is the same. if every human out there truly was heartless, the world would’ve gone to shit a long time ago. someone had the idea of creating this hybrid recovery center. doesn't that go to show you that they want to help?”

hongjoong intently listened to her little tangent. while he wasn’t completely convinced, he could feel his heart and mind ever-so slowly open up to her words. 

“i won’t lie, it’s sad how one bad apple can spoil the whole tree,” she humorously laughed. “it takes one heartless person for hybrids to lose trust in us completely. i don’t blame you, though,” she mumbled.

with a small smile at him, she stood up from the chair. “all i’m saying is...give us a chance, yeah?” she felt deja-vu from that line. it was the same request she had asked seonghwa when they first met. “you can start with me since i’m your designated caretaker, then if and when you're ready, i’ll bring in more people, deal?”

what seemed like an eternity passed before hongjoong slowly nodded his head. “deal,” he quietly agreed, his orange and black tiger ears slightly twitching in anticipation. 

jiyu smiled, happy that he was slowly letting her in. “thanks, little tiger.”

hongjoong raised an eyebrow at her name for him. “little tiger?”

a mischievous and teasing look flashed across her face. “you just look so small and adorable on the bed,” she laughed. his cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he looked away, a pout unconsciously forming on his lips. 

“what was it about good humans you were talking about?” he mumbled to himself. but seeing her smile and radiating happy energy, he couldn’t bring himself to be mad. 

strange, he thought, how did she reduce me to a little cub in only half an hour?

glancing at the clock, her eyes almost bulged out of her head. “good god, i promised beomgyu i’d eat lunch with him!” she frantically yelped as she quickly gathered the paperwork and clipboard. she could already envision the golden-retriever’s pouting face while asking her why she was ten minutes late. “oh, right. are you hungry?” she asked hongjoong.

seeing him shake his head, she pursed her lips in thought. “well, it’s my lunch break right now. i’ll buy some food for you and bring it back when i’m on the clock again, okay? alright, i’ll see you in a bit!”

without giving him time to deny her offer, she sped walk out the door. hongjoong didn’t know how to react. one minute, she was seriously explaining to him that there was good in the world; then another minute, she became a clumsy girl that lost track of time. 

he scoffed. “if all good humans are clumsy like that, then what’s gonna happen to me?”

[thermaflute]

Forever Together

a/n: Ahhhhhhh this is my first collab with the BNHA POCuties and I hope I did alright. Fun fact about me: I’ve never actually been to a wedding so I was a bit all over trying to figure this out. Despite all the rewriting I did on this I still had a ton of fun on it and it made me realize I need to write more fluff. Please give my buddies works a read here, everyone worked super hard on this collab!

Synopsis: It wasn’t easy for either of you to admit that love wasn’t an awful emotion, it was even harder to confess that maybe you felt love for each other. The real challenge however, was getting the two of you to say the two simple words that would bind your complicated selves forever.

Word Count: 3.1k

Your hands jittered against your dress, tears threatening to form behind your eyes. The mirror in front of you revealed absolute decadence, your dress was a marvelous white, lace trimmings all around. Your usual hairstyle now in its natural state, you looked gorgeous. But your insides churned with intimidation. It was going to be a small wedding, yet you felt as if there were a sea of people out there, waiting to see you. You feared they’d be able to tell that you were scared. 

You two had started talking about marriage a long time ago. Well, rather how you detested it. You two were friends in high school, you were in general studies, and he was in the hero course. He often came to you about his problems because he needed a perspective from someone out of the hero loop. He was a bit aloof but you never seemed to mind, and you two surprisingly connected well into your second year. That day’s conversation started over some left over cake from a group project you had, you mentioned your preferred cake, he mentioned his. You stated that if it were up to you your wedding cake would be f/c, if marriage was your thing at all. He agreed with you, and you both confided that you thought love was a joke that led nowhere. Love was a finicky pursuit that would inevitably end in disappointment and heartbreak.

That disappointment never came. Neither of you were proud to admit it, but the two of you started to feel...things...for each other. It wasn’t immediate, it was slow and gradual. You went to college, he joined the Hero workforce, and neither of you stopped caring for each other. He made time to visit your dorm, and when you could, you would bring him lunch at his office. He always made room for you, and you always made room for him. That’s just what friends do.

Except, friendship was a boundary that was quickly dissolving. You found yourself yearning for his presence and days that he couldn’t make it felt so unnatural. His conversations with you would make you smile beyond your face, and you found yourself addicted to hearing his laughter. He was kinda beautiful, oddities and all. You despised the nervous feeling you began to get around him, so you decided to be honest. 

“I mean, where the fuck did he get the idea that I wanted to study with him like? First of all, you worry about you, second, you not finna catch me getting an F for your dumbass like you’re not even cute.” Shoto didn’t respond, he simply stared at you with a small smile, and you quickly realized that you were ranting. “Ah I’m sorry for ranting, how was your day?” 

“You’re fine, I like hearing about your day. However, to answer your question, it was alright. It got better when I saw you though.”

Your eyes quickly glanced at him before looking away and you feigned a joking attitude. “Ha, you do miss me, I thought you forgot about me the second you walked out the door.”

He eyed you, clearly missing the joke, “I could never y/n, I think about you everyday.” There was nothing for a few seconds but the sound of laughter in the hallway and a poorly managed club screaming outside. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.” It came out very harshly.

“Oh you’re fine, I knew what you meant.” You looked away for a minute, the tension getting worse. You had to end this  “I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I may have caught some feelings for you Shoto.” 

He frowned at you and your blanket that was wrapped around him caught on fire. He quickly put it out and glared at you, “You...You make me feel sick y/n.” He left, leaving you with a burnt blanket and a pitiful sadness. For nearly two weeks, he avoided you, making sure to leave you on delivered and telling reception to not allow you up. The truth was, he felt the same, and he knew he made a mistake when he told you that, but he genuinely had no clue how to tell you he was interested in you without it sounding like a curse on your life.

You were unavoidable, the fact you two didn’t accidentally cross paths until the cafe was astounding. So much of your interest and favorite spots combined so it was inevitable that he would run into you again. You saw him sitting alone at the usual table and decided that if he was going to ignore you, he was going to have to give you a proper response first. You sat in front of him, immediately startling him. He quickly grabbed his things and mumbled an apology underneath his breath.  

"Wait! I know how you feel about all that, trust me I'm not happy either but I just wanted to be honest. You’re really important to me, and it’s nearly impossible for me to fall for someone but you made it in. I don’t regret liking you either, because you’re genuinely a good guy but blowing me off for two weeks has me reconsidering if you’re even that. Do you know how long I’ve been crying? God, you didn’t have to insult me now Shoto."

"I didn’t insult you?"

"How else am I supposed to inter-." You thought about who you were dealing with and realized you'd been going about this the wrong way. "Okay, well if you're not insulting me I need you to elaborate on what ‘You make me feel sick’  means."

The stoic man in front of you seemed to look frustrated with you cornering him. But he understood the sudden drop in your friendship with him was upsetting you. "I told you too much. I shared too much of my time with you. You gave me entirely too much of your own, and now I feel ill when I see you. I feel even worse when I don't. You told me that you were interested in romance, and that sickness engulfed me. I-” He seemed as if he was straining to talk to you, he was clearly flushed and you can feel the heat radiating off of him. “I think I have feelings for you as well.”

You two sat at the cafe in silence, both radiating very murky energies. Passerby’s stared at you and the Pro Hero in confusion, both of your boring holes into anything else that wasn’t each other's eyes. You broke the silence first, “Shoto, I don’t mind the feeling. I know we shitted on it for a few years now, but uh, it’s not awful.”

“It’s not,” he responded, still staring painfully somewhere else. The cafe was still busy around you, but for some reason it felt like you two were the only one’s there. It felt like that often with him, even in this weird ass situation you were still comforted by his presence.

“Do you want to go out?” You finally asked him, he was sweating bullets. You two looked like highschoolers, it was honestly embarrassing how difficult that was for the both of you. He gave you a quick sorry and quickly left with all of his stuff. You stared at the empty seat in front of you in half disappointment and half awe. He really just got up and left, again.

You look back on that so fondly now, you two were young adults, unsure about the world and each other. Too scared to label the affection you already gave each other. To think you would be walking the aisle for that man in a few hours was not only ironic, but kind of terrifying. Sure your commitment issues got better, but they weren’t exactly gone. You loved Shoto with your whole being but something about getting married scared you shitless.

You reverted back to the safety of your memories, and quickly checked to see if you still had the screenshots from when you first got together. You remember trying to act cool about it but you immediately called up every friend you had to tell them the news.

You giggled at the messages, feeling the warmth of the past wash over you. You two really blossomed, slowly but surely breaking down boundaries that neither of you even realized was there. Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. Your mutual “experiment” with love seemed to be really stable. After a while of being together, of course others began to question what was next.

The light filtered through the blinds of your apartment, your senses slowly came on to the rest of the world, dragging you from a dream that was already fading into obscurity. You feel your body get closer to skin, and you breath in the lovely scent that you’ve come to adore. You felt kisses on your shoulder and a slow sigh from behind you before the sheets became soft again, you were fading back into sleep. 

“Can I talk to you about something?”

Your heart jumped. “Sure.”

“I had something longer prepared for this after a talk with my mother but after laying here with you, I think it would be better if I just said it. I’ve been thinking a lot about marriage lately. I know it’s a large commitment, but I can’t see myself anywhere else with anyone else but you. I love you more than life itself. ” He snuggled closer into you and wrapped you tightly. “You don’t have to answer now, I just wanted to let you know how I felt.”

You rolled around in his arms to look at him, his hair was all over, his eyes were lidded and clearly still exhausted, but he was so sincere.

Your sleepy voice came out as a croak, you extended your hand up to stroke his hair back, revealing his forehead. You scrunch your face up at him and act as if you’re thinking. “I don’t even like you though.” You gave him a slight giggle, and kissed him. “I would love that baby.” You feel some tension leave his body and he smiles at you with glossy eyes. How long was he thinking about this? He leans into you and plants a kiss on your nose and you both fall back asleep, entangled together with thoughts of forever. 

Forever. The word felt so solid when you were with him, like it wasn’t something that could falter or fade. But whenever you thought about it too long you grew terrified, the word became too solid. It felt inescapable. You know it’s just the fears speaking, but you just didn’t want to find out that things could be different. As the days grew closer and closer, your anxiety worsened as things around you changed.

“Yes, this is my Fiancee, y/n.” “I saw a few houses near that park you like, would you like to check it out with me?” “Have you decided on what colors to decorate the venue.” “Fuyumi wants to know if she can handle the catering and the flowers? Are you alright with that?” “Well since you’re indecisive I’m just going to book them all and we can just go everywhere for the Honeymoon.” It seemed as if everyday he was reminding you that this wasn’t a dream. It was always the slightest things, the easiest questions that would leave you with the realization that this was for real. You two were no longer teens that were scared to hold hands, but real adults that love each other enough to put it on a legally binding paper. No amount of movies, girl talks, or family could have prepared you for the stress you were going through. 

You snapped out of your thoughts again and looked at the time. You had to walk out soon and your nerves were fried. The movies made this seem so easy but here you were, glued to the chair, trying to find any reason under the sun to either go through with this or run away. The door to your dressing room opened and in came your friend, the maid of honor.

“Well you don’t look too happy.” They looked partially stressed from all the running around but was still checking in on you before everything started.

You tried to make a face that looked reassuring but you ended up just looking like you were going to cry. 

Your friend held you, careful to not harm your dress. “You got this y/n, you look too pretty to be this sad on your special day.”

“I know, I’m just really nervous.” 

“Well don’t be too hard on yourself, Shoto isn’t exactly doing any better.” 

You look at your friend confused, they take the hint that you weren’t aware this whole time that he’s been really frazzled. 

“Well Izuku had to quickly get a backup suit. Shoto was so stressed that he burnt through his suit. Seeing as your dress is still in one piece, I think you’re fine.”

You felt oddly comforted by your fiance's stress, in the oddest way possible it was nice to know that this wasn’t difficult for just you. “Oh, that’s kind of funny.”

“I know right, man's been so worried about this forever, I guess it’s just all coming out now. See, y’all are literally the same.”

You look around with a small smile already starting to feel better. “Thank you.”

“No problem, that’s what I’m here for! However, Imma really need you to hurry up because Izuku said he’s starting to literally steam through the suit and they really can’t get another backup.”

“Fine, I’m coming.” You stood looking down at all the white underneath you, you felt the anxiety creeping up and swat it away just as quickly. “I got this.”

You barely heard the music, or saw anybody on the way down the aisle. Your mind completely blanked, only remembering the sensation of an arm locked around your own and the vague feeling of a bouquet in your hand. You focused only on the man in front of you, he looked happy to see you. His hetero chromatic eyes that always brought you peace once again managed to make you feel calm. 

Eijiro began his spiel, he was so happy to hear that you guys were getting married and practically begged to officiate. You both agreed, thinking it was beyond sweet that he wanted to do this for you two. As the red head continued his speech, you slipped away into a revelation that forever wasn’t a terrifying word anymore, it was actually something rather nice to look forward to. 

Shoto held your hand and returned to appearing mostly stoic to anyone else that wasn’t you. You learned to tell when he was happy from the occasional slight smile, but mostly through his eyes, they had a particular gleam in them when he was emotional. He seemed well composed, but after years of all that Hero training you could still see the small wisps of steam lifting off his suit. 

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife, to cherish in friendship and love today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you live, to trust and honor her, to love her faithfully, through the best and the worst, whatever may come, and if you should ever doubt, to remember your love for each other and the reason why you came together with her this day?”

For a split moment he saw you how you used to look and remembered the second he fell in love with you. You were in your uniform still, leaning over a railing, making a joke about how fun it would be if he made an ice ramp to slide down. You were at ease with him, and it always made him feel at peace with you. 

"I do.”

“Do you take this ULTIMATE manly man Shoto to be your husband, to cherish in friendship and love today, tomorrow and for as long as the two of you live, to trust and honor him, to love him faithfully, through the best and the worst, whatever may come, and if you should ever doubt, to remember your love for each other and the reason why you came together with him this day?  

You laugh at the redheads words, the audience does the same. You realize that no matter what anyone else saw him as, he was always your hero. Sure he's never saved you from a burning building, but he was the first to save you from just feeling alone. Whether it was a tutor, a cry session, or just some fun, he was always there for you. You want to always be there for him, and even if you can't do it perfectly, you promise that you'll always try.

“I do.”

"Well alright then, you two are officially married! You may now kiss the bride.”

You lunged at your now husband, completely forgetting that he was technically supposed to be kissing you. He didn’t mind it at all and returned your kiss with equal admiration and love. Though you two will probably continue to be complicated for the rest of your lives, you can at least do it together.

“Forever right?”

You smiled at him in tears, the audience was full of excitement and fervor but it all felt silent and peaceful to you. “Forever.”

[cullens-babe]

I'm back in my Solavellan feelings and want to talk about my lavellan and Solas. I saw these prompts and decided to post that now. I'm going to answer each one (other than the nsfw ones) and here we go. Putting it under a keep reading just in case no one cares lol.

For the Fluff:

1. What are things they both find funny?

Solas and Bloom both love when Cassandra and Varric banter. They just find it hilarious because Cassandra is nice at some points but she can be angry while being funny. They just find both of them too funny.

2. If they could each describe each other in one sentence, what would it be?

Solas describe Bloom as, "A complicated woman," and Bloom describes Solas as, "A complicated man." They're both complicated on the surface and they just stick to that description. But if people ask for what do they like about each other, then OH BOY!!! They could go on a rant.

3. If they complimented each other, what would they say?

Solas would compliment Bloom by saying how she always notices the good in people. She always tries to make people feel better, help them heal, and just help people in general. She cares for people and the way she sees the good in people, and it makes him love her.

Bloom would compliment Solas by saying she loves hearing him ramble and how adorable it is. Solas rambles and we ALL know it. He'll talk about the fade or magic for hours and Bloom loves to hear all of it and she finds his passion adorable.

4. What would be their ship name?

Blas because it's close to blast and Bloom will blast you away if you ever hurt her family. It has Bl from Bloom and as from Solas lol.

5. What activities do they enjoy together?

Hmmm...they enjoy a lot of things together. I guess the one thing they could mainly enjoy together is reading. They both like to read and find it fun. But the part they both enjoy the best is reading to each other. Like Lavellan is resting her head in Solas's lap and he's reading whatever to her or Solas is resting his head in her lap and she's reading to him. It's comfortable and that's an activity they like.

Another one is taking naps together.

6. What is/are their love language(s)?

Physical attention. I believe Solas does like it when he gets physical attention. He's like...however old and he's definitely touch starved, but only for the person he loves: Bloom. They both like getting physical attention and like holding hands, kissing, hugging, nsfw things, and they do like words. They love being told "I love you" from the other and it brings them so much comfort. They love it when they comfort each other.

7. Write a ~300 word love scene for them.

Solas was looking at Bloom again. She was resting on the couch in the Rotunda, few pieces of hair falling in front of her face, and was slightly snoring. He worked in the Rotunda all the time and she would visit him all the time. Even before they confessed to each other. They love being together, so if she was ever stressed, she would come here and check on him. He would accept the attention and he would give her as much comfort as she needed. This time, she came because she had a bad dream. She was being chased by demons and was witnessing Solas's death in the future that Alexius tried to make. He knew she suffered from the mere memory, so he would never shun her away. He would do whatever she wanted and this time she just wanted to be in the same room with him.

She groaned in her sleep and it made him worry. He marked the page he was on in his book and went over to her. He knelt in front of her and pulled the pieces of hair back behind her ear. She moved slightly and it made him freeze, but she didn't move again and he was relieved. He looked at her closer now and he got to see the sight he loved. He loved to see her at peace, something he rarely got to see, and when she slept he got to see it. It made him feel happy and he just staring at her made him feel blessed. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead gently. He hoped she wouldn't wake, but she did.

She opened her eyes and smiled when she saw him. "Hi, vhenan."

Solas blushed at that word and decided to kiss her again to hide it.

8. What were their first impressions of each other?

Bloom found Solas as interesting and she really wanted to know more about him.

Solas found her as rude and distant. Only to realize she's just anxious and actually loves almost everyone.

For the Angst:

9. Have they made each other cry?

Have you seen the ending of Trespasser??? YES!! They have. They never used their words to hurt each other and make them cry, but their actions have. Solas leaving made Bloom cry, Bloom having a dream of Solas being dead made her cry, and seeing him again in Trespasser made her cry.

Now, Solas cried a lot. He hides it, but he does cry a lot. He cares for Bloom a lot, more than he thought he would, so seeing her hurt? It makes him upset. One time, she was knocked out for quite awhile because she used a lot of her energy, and Solas was so concerned and he cried. So yes they cry about each other a lot.

10. Write a ~300 word argument scene for them.

I can't exactly do this one because they rarely argue :(.

11. What causes them to fight?

Umm...the only thing that could make them fight would be Solas telling Bloom to do something she doesn't believe in. Solas telling her that she's too kind hearted and almost implying she's weak. That would really hurt her and she would argue. It would be a short argument because she would leave since she doesn't want to argue. They would both come together soon and they'll explain their side and almost always feel better.

12. Do they have differing political opinions?

Yeah. I'm not good with the politics in like DA, but it's obvious they do bc he's Solas and she doesn't know the things he does, so they do have different opinions. It's why they avoid that topic lol.

13. Name something they would never do for the other person.

Bloom could never let him destroy the world. Like she would never help him. Does she love him with her entire soul? Yes. But she can't destroy the world.

Solas would never just forget his past for her. You can take this as in he has to destroy the world or just that he can't stop the mission of at least sharing the word of his people. He just can't forget his past.

14. What would be a dealbreaker?

Destroying the world is a deal breaker for Bloom lol. Or just anything regarding to hurting people for the fun of it.

Deal breaker for Solas would have to be her hating on his old life. Like?? Excuse me?? Bloom would never but still. If he had someone do that then he'd have to leave them.

15. What are traits they dislike in one another?

Bloom doesn't like the way Solas is constantly not looking at other peoples POV. He just thinks about his past and sometimes needs to be reminded not everyone is like him and he needs to think about it like them.

Solas doesn't like the way Bloom is always sacrificing herself.

16. If they broke up, what would be their opinions of each other?

They would still love each other. They have broken up like twice already now. First in DAI and then again in Trespasser (not rlly but ya get it?? He left her once and then he did it again lol). They would still love each other and wouldn't move on. They would still believe that they are a good person (Even if Bloom's opinion of that good person is in doubt) and almost have the same opinions.

For the Depth:

17. What senses (sights, smells, feelings, etc). remind them of each other?

Bloom is reminded of him when she sees green clothes. She's reminded of his clothes he would wear, how she would take them off in the heat of the moment, and how she would sometimes sleep in them. And!! Seeing wolves or animals would sometimes remind her of him. He liked animals and talked about them and since he has a jawbone, if she saw a wolf she'd immediately think about him. The smell of the woods would remind her of him.

Solas is reminded of her when he sees anything blue or ginger. Blue was her favorite color and she almost always wore blue clothes, and her hair was ginger. Seeing anything ginger would remind him of her, her hair, and how he would run his fingers through it when she was stressed or sad.

18. What would be their love motto?

"To love is to understand each other, trust each other, and want to protect each other."

19. If they could each write a single line in their marriage vows, what would they be?

Bloom: "You make my fire brighter and make me feel like I can do the impossible."

Solas: "You understand me and see things in me I can't see myself."

20. What is a promise they have made to each other?

To love forever. Solas knew he wouldn't love anyone like he loves her and she knew she wouldn't love anyone the way she loves him, so they made a promise.

Away from their love, it's a promise to always be true to each other...even though that promise is very sad...because you know-

21. How have they changed each other for the better/for the worse?

I think they've both changed for the better. Bloom slowly learns she can't sacrifice herself and that it's okay to love someone no matter what. Solas learns that everyone is suffering in their own way, how precious people are, and how to love again.

22. If their lives were what was originally intended at birth, would they have still fallen in love?

Umm...Bloom was meant to be a hunter and stay in a clan, so I doubt they would have met. BUT if they ever did, they most likely still would have fallen in love. Bloom was still the same no matter what. He probably would adore her more because she can fight physically and also use her magic.

23. Write a ~300 scene between them with no dialogue, only body language.

They were in her bedroom, getting undressed for bed, and he finally wrapped his arms around her. Bloom felt relief when Solas wrapped his arms around her. She had been through a stressful day, so to feel his arms around her, it made her feel safe. The warmth he radiated brought her peace, and then the coolness he gave her made her feel even better. Anything involving him made her feel loved, so to just feel him made her happy.

Uhhh....I can't write just body language. I need to write dialogue so my bad. Take 79 or 80 words lol.

24. What is something they have each had to forgive the other for?

Bloom has to forgive him for trying to destroy the world lol.

Solas doesn't really have anything to forgive her for. She's always been careful around him, not overstepping boundaries, and they rarely fought. He just feels the need to forgive himself and understand why she forgives him.

Anyways yeah take this!! I might do more prompts like this. I just love them so much. I might do Cullen and Elle and Julian and Cassandra!! And there's not much proofreading so :))).

[cowboyshit]

twenty questions

tagged by: @dustofinsanity (thank you so much my dear!!!!!!)

what do you prefer to be called name-wise? honestly I’ll probably answer to most things as long as they aren’t mean. but ash, ashley, doe, those seem to be the solid three I’m known by around here when is your birthday? november 30th!  where do you live? in a tiny, backwoods cow-town smack dab in the middle of california three things you are doing right now? filling this questionnaire out, eating dinner I just finished cooking, and petting sadie with my foot since she’s curled up at my feet after she finished her dinner four fandoms that have peaked your interest. I guess I can go with four I’ve been heavily involved with, even though there’s plenty more than that since I’m a little fangirl at heart, but wrestling (obviously), black sails, the night shift, and pirates of the caribbean how has the pandemic been treating you? uh, I mean, it hasn’t been great and I’ve had to deal with some pretty bad shit as all of us have, and probably some of my worst mental health battles I’ve had to face in about a year or so, but honestly? I just kind of count my blessings these days. lucky to still be employed, even if my pay got a little cut it was nothing that keeps me from paying my bills. all I had to do was take away a few luxury things to make ends meet, and that’s a lot, LOT less than other people have had to do. so yeah, it’s been pretty shitty, this year has been bad news after bad news both personally and globally, but whatever. it could be worse. a song you can’t stop listening to right now? it is no-joke like a four-way tie. a bunch of good songs were in my discover weekly and I’ve been playing four of them on non-stop repeat one after the other. oh! and one my best friend showed to me. this baby don’t cry by k. flay, rock bottom by grandson, ok ok by hoko, and insurgents by the poolside by denny recommend a movie. i’ve jumped into holiday mood early af because tbh I need the holiday cheer, so keeping in that theme, I suggest the holiday with jude law because DUH how old are you? thirty! school, university, occupation, other? had some college, been working in my current career for the past ten years. hoping to pursue a promotion finally since my supervisors have been telling me for the past eight years that I need to promote do you prefer heat or cold? cold pleeeaaaase! I’m a radiator and put off heat like nobody’s business. I’m always warm. name one fact others may not know about you. this is hard because I just constantly blab everything about me, and I have two people who literally know EVERYTHING about me lmfao uhhh I guess... something people may not know... uhhh... on my dad’s side of the family one half was ashkenazi jewish who had to flee germany to avoid the holocaust, where they went to live in italy, while the other half were nazi’s committing some pretty bad stuff that my family won’t talk about, even to this day. funny how two descendants eventually met in america and fell in love, huh? and when they DID fall in love one of them was half italian and in the mafia! so I always joke that my bubbly cheerful self is a descendent of some pretty evil shit, and it feels like a nice little stab at those shitty ancestors of mine. are you shy? uhhh yeah and no??? like. I think I’m shy, since all interaction terrifies me and exhausts me, but everyone tells me I’m a social butterfly? and I’ve noticed in places I’m comfortable and confident, I do tend to be less shy and more involved and interactive? but I think I can be shy. a lot of waiting for other people to initiate because I’m too afraid to, struggling to talk or carry a conversation at times... I don’t know I think I’m overcomplicating this answer LOL preferred pronouns? she/her!  biggest pet peeves? gatekeeping, to be perfectly honest. I stopped following wrestling back in 2014 because when I first tried to get into the fandom, someone was trying to gatekeep a wrestler I also liked and had started making content for and they made me feel like shit for liking them, and I absolutely hated it. that’s why it took me an entire two years of quietly lurking in the wrestling fandom before I finally got brave enough to come out of the woodwork, and I’m grateful I’ve been so well received this time around. but now I’m hyper-sensitive to gatekeeping and I fucking hate it. no joke. and since it’s a pet peeve and I’m irked just remembering all that bs I went through, ima say I’m only a part of fandom to share my love of whatever that thing is with other people who love it too. I can’t stand anyone who thinks they have some sort of “claim” over a celebrity or a show or anything. get a different identity that isn’t wrapped up in that thing and stop seeing it as a threat when other people like it. be happy someone else is as passionate about that thing as you are and make a friend. damn. what is your favorite “dere” type? I’m pretty sure this is something with anime or that originated from anime, right? unfortunately I don’t know what they are so I can’t say LOL I don’t even know if I’m right about it coming from anime tbh rate your life from 1-10, 1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be. 4, 5, but I’m putting in the foundation now and working to make it a 6, 7, or possibly 8 by a year or two from now. what’s your main blog? funnily enough? this one. my OTHER blog that was my main blog since I joined tumblr in 2009 got shoved to the side for this one last year LOL I assumed I’d log onto this blog once in awhile, but now it took over my whole damn life so here I am I guess list your side blogs and what they’re used for. I’m going to be fair and ONLY list my active ones because I have a few side blogs from when I role-played on tumblr that I haven’t touched in over a year. @doedreamss is my non-wrestling blog that WAS my main blog before this one, @cowboysht is my archive where I am ONLY putting my original gifsets/analysis/fanfiction so that one day I can offer people a blog of just my original work and no other posts (the queue is very slowly catching up I think I’ve queued posts up until june this year), @illfatedandstarcrossed is just a non-frequently used outlet for me to mope and dump emotions when I get sad about my relationship things (like a diary! but... public? and not my original thoughts? LOL), and then I have one more blog but it’s locked and private and it’s LITERALLY my diary where I can just vent when I got shit I wanna get off my chest but don’t necessarily want people to see it. Is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends? I probably won’t talk to you daily, tbh. I may not even talk to you weekly. socializing takes a lot out of me, on top of an already energy draining day-to-day in my personal life. I have a handful of people I connect with who I talk with frequently, but unfortunately as much as I’d love for it to be endless, I have to keep that list short for my own sanity. my infrequent conversations mean absolutely nothing about my lack of interest in you or how much I care about you. my granny once said I would be the perfect friend for someone you only want to talk to twice a month and she thought she was insulting me, but deadass I just said “YEAH! EXACTLY!!”

tagging: I really like this one so I WANT to tag people, but I feel braindead and also just want to post it cause I feel like I am definitely gonna forget to tag someone tbh aaaaahh okay okay I’m just gonna throw some names out there but please don’t feel pressured to do this (it is TWENTY questions) @kennyhoemega, @champbucks, @superkickparty, @adampage, @hintsofsunshine, @audreyhrnes, @sheslikealostflower, @lancearchers, @champnick, @janelanutella, @edgecution, @superrezzy00, @wardl0w, @writinglionqueen, @orangechuckiet, @hungmanhorsecarriage, @icouldbesus, @thatnerdwriter, @rampagewriting, @snarkandsarcasmftw, @tetsuyainthesky AND I DUNNO JUST ANYONE WHO WANTS TO OK I LOVE YOU ALL BYE

[writefightandflightclub]

Indivisible: Part 3

Poe Dameron x reader? Finn x reader? Finn x Poe?

Summary: Finn is your wonderful boyfriend, and Poe is your wonderful best  friend. But when Poe begins to look at you differently, you wonder if there’s another way to arrange the pieces of your heart to make it whole.

Time for the fated movie night, everyone! It’s a date!

Part one: here two: here

Author’s note: We’ve had Poe’s POV, and reader’s POV, now we get Finn’s. And of course, I got carried away with Finn and so this is by far the longest of all four parts. I think this is pretty darn cute, so I hope you like it. Finn is a precious, anxious bean in this, I’m soft and can’t deal. Also my first time writing a Finn POV, let me know how I did!

Word count: 4.5k ish

Warnings: TEEN rating for pretty suggestive and steamy themes but nothing explicit. SO MUCH FLUFF tbh.

STUNNING GIF by @horrorgay​, which, could this gif be more perfect for this chapter, I-

“I am calm!”, Finn insists to Bb-8 as he fumbles with the cushions and blankets he’s arranged and rearranged a number of times already.

Bb-8 rolls the dome of his head and, somehow, makes binary sound indignant as he responds to Finn, pointing out that if he was calm, that his heart rate wouldn’t be reading so high now, would it?

“Has anyone ever told you you’re too sassy for an astromech? You can tell exactly who your dad is, droid.”

Bb-8 beeps again as Finn crouches to compulsively shuffle cushions around, trying to make everything just right.

“I’m not sweating! You’re sweating!” Finn defends weakly, wiping his (sweaty) brow with the back of his hand.  

Bb-8 beeps more softly this time, and Finn looks over at the droid with hopeful eyes as he fans out a blanket.  

“You really think the room looks good?” The small rec room is nothing special, but Finn has done his best to set out a cosy, makeshift seating area on the floor opposite the holoscreen, replacing the scattered and stiff tables and chairs with something more befitting a movie night. Snapped light sticks scattered here and there deliver an ambient glow to the room too.

Finn gulps, starting to wonder if it’s all a little too… romantic, as Bb-8 delivers his animated reply. Still, he lies across the soft furnishings to test it out, nodding to himself in satisfaction as he discovers that his improvised floor couch is pretty damn comfy, actually.

“Ok, I know you didn’t say it looks good, Beebs- I know you said logically laid out, but that still means a lot, my round friend.”

Finn’s eyes scan around the space, grateful for the reassurance, and trying to use the moment to muster a deep, calming breath.

Finn is renowned for panicking. But he’s not entirely sure why he’s quite so panicked about the prospect of movie night with you and Poe. And he’s somewhat reluctant to pull at that thread. Finn has managed to survive most of the terrifying situations he’s found himself in via a lot of big talk and bluster (and a lot of heart), but tonight, he’s filled with a nervous energy that he can’t shake. A nervous energy which has had him pacing the floor, and apparently rearranging cushions a bunch.

Even though you’ve made it abundantly clear to Finn, time and again, that you care deeply for him, Finn has only recently stopped being nervous around you. He’s starting to understand -after you gently pointed it out to him- that he has a people-pleasing streak; probably something to do with the fact that he’s never really had any people to call his… not until the Resistance. And now that he does, not only is he very eager to impress and to be liked, he’s also terrified that you’ll unmask him as unworthy. Finn just can’t quite see just how special he really is, and he thinks you’re amazing, so he’s a little terrified that he’ll lose you, if he’s honest. A little disbelieving, albeit proud, that he has you at all.

There’s also a second, more shrouded reason that Finn is nervous. One that he’s less inclined to admit to. The reason on the end of that string that he doesn’t want to pull on. Poe Dameron is coming to the movie night. Finn is good friends with Poe. It’s not unusual that Finn and Poe forged such an instant, intense attachment. The man had named Finn, for kriff’s sake. The man had been the first one to see him. Really see him. He’d saved his life. Yet, for all Finn admires Poe, the thing that is really making Finn nervous about him coming along? Poe Dameron is hella cute, and he can’t help thinking with the addition of each fluffed cushion and softly shining light stick, that this seemed awfully like a… date.

And, dates? You guessed it- they made Finn nervous.

With that thought, and the spike of guilt which follows the realisation, and the fear that he’s a terrible boyfriend and that he’s going to lose you, the nerves churn in Finn’s stomach all over again. He doesn’t have time to deal with them, however, as you and Poe burst through the door at that moment, causing Finn to spring to his feet.

You boot the door open first, your arms full with snacks boosted from the supply store (using those “commander privileges”), and Poe follows, similarly laden, but with the addition of a big bag of Greedos chips clasped in between his teeth.

Finn notices that you’ve both changed out of your flight suits (Finn will never understand how you make that outfit look so good) and into your comfy Resistance pyjamas- variations on plain tees and shorts, matching Finn’s own attire.

“Hey, sexy!”, you greet Finn, and when you dip your head to press a soft kiss on Finn’s cheek a huge swathe of his nervousness evaporates. “The room looks great! This is so cosy, babe!” You’re like a calming wave of relief, and Finn’s eyes dance happily over you in your cute little shorts. He likes seeing you with your legs on display.

“Hey, sexy!”, Poe echoes around the bag of chips in his mouth with an accompanying pump of his eyebrows, his eyes glinting mischievously. Ok, Finn’s nervousness skyrockets right back up again. Especially when you complain about Poe’s spit being on the bag and Finn knows that should definitely gross him out but that it definitely doesn’t.

Still, Finn gathers himself, as you and Poe dance around unloading and decanting snacks and drinks and getting the holomovie set-up. You buzz around Finn, moving from place to place, and your hand circles his sturdy waist  whenever you need to wheel around him. Finn doesn’t pick-up on how automatically you touch him, just wanting to be in contact. He just notices the way you interact with Poe as you busy about, communicating in that shorthand you two have - something which Finn remains just a little envious of. You two barely need to say full words -never mind full sentences- to one another to communicate. You’ve spent so much time together that everything is effortless. That’s yet another reason Finn is nervous about this. He tries so hard to be the perfect boyfriend for you (and he doesn’t need to try), but he feels like Poe could be so much better for you. He knows it’s irrational, and it comes from his insecurity, but he can’t help but be a little… jealous, on ocassion.

Finn adds that thought to his cycling, growing list of Things to Worry About, and prepares to settle down before the makeshift screening area. Too late to back-out now, he supposes. Plus, this setting is definitely romantic enough that he doesn’t fancy leaving you and Poe alone here. He trusts you; he really does. He just doesn’t trust his own thoughts and would rather spare himself the mental torture.

Finn is about to plonk himself down next to you on the makeshift couch of sorts, when you halt him with a palm on his ass, pushing him back to standing.

“I promised Poe he could be in the middle. That ok, babe?” You wink up at Finn and he reluctantly agrees, plonking himself on the other side of Poe instead. He doesn’t want you to think he’s clingy, after all, so he tries his best to be Super Chill Finn as he takes his position.

Once Finn is seated beside Poe, you dish out some bowls of snacks. Seeing what you’ve bagged, Finn excitedly leans forward and talks across Poe to you. “You got popcorn, baby? Oh damn, I love you!”

You lean similarly forward to talk across the pilot, however, your jaw drops, and, from your reaction, Finn clocks the words that just left his mouth. Ohhhh boyyy. Finn does; he loves you, but he hasn’t said it to you out loud yet. And it’s somehow plainly obvious that he didn’t mean it only in relation to the popcorn.

It could and should be awkward with Poe sandwiched between the two of you, but, weirdly, Finn is thankful that he’s there to relieve the tension, because Finn is a feeling a little out of his depth here, and Poe always knows what to say to make people feel calm. You can rely on Poe to fill silences, that’s a given. 

“Is that the first time you’ve said that?”, Poe asks, not shy about wading in, and flicking his head between the both of your apprehensive faces. Poe obnoxiously munches on his popcorn in the middle of you both, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Cute.”, he grins, stuffing more cloud-like snacks into his mouth. “Honoured to be present for this beautiful moment. Not ruining it am I?” he breezes, munching down as loudly as possible on another handful. As neither of you speak, Poe continues to fill the gaps. “I don’t even need the movie to watch with you two here - this is great entertainment.” , he adds, around another succession of crunching.

Poe then exclaims an “ow!” as if you’ve just elbowed him in the ribs, less than subtly. You probably have.

“I love you too, Finn.”, you respond, finally, and Finn swears his heart might radiate out of his chest like daybreak over the horizon. You certainly are his sunshine, and there’s no denying that.

If Finn isn’t mistaken, a little sadness pools in Poe’s eyes at your words, a liquid, hazy glow like moonshine. Finn feels empathy for the pilot. He certainly wouldn’t wish loneliness on anyone. He knows too much about what it’s like. Still, Poe’s reaction confirms a suspicion that Finn has long harboured- that Poe wanted a little more from you than he lets on. Or a lot more, maybe. 

Regardless, Poe continues bravely on with his bluster, like a bigshot. Finn knows all about bluster.

“Do you two wanna kiss? Just pretend I’m not here, you can lean over me if you like. I’ve had worse views.”

“That’s a hard nope!” Finn quickly responds, growing flustered, and keen not to put himself in any more situations which might make him nervous. Leaning across Poe Dameron’s lap certainly falls in that category.

You agree to just stick the movie on, and you all snuggle down together under the liberal blankets, getting comfy. Finn smiles softly as the movie starts playing, and Poe’s commentary on literally everything that happens begins. It transpires that you’ve selected a horror for the viewing, and it seems that Poe is already feeling creeped out just a short amount of time into watching.

Finn smiles softly. That’s ok. Horror movies are one thing he knows he can handle without panicking. Finally, there’s something!

Finn casts his eyes over to you fondly as you noisily munch on your popcorn and cackle, partly at the faux gore of the movie, and partly because Poe jumps out of his skin at the sight of a holo-skeleton emerging abruptly from out of the screen.

Ah, that’s right. Finn seems to remember that Poe really doesn’t like bones.

“You’re heartless.” Poe scolds as you laugh at him, and Finn notes that the pilot has clamped his hand down on to your thigh, purely out of instinct. When Poe does that, suddenly you don’t seem to find anything quite as funny, and he can almost see the breath catch in your chest as you glance down at his hand there. Finn doesn’t spike at the sight like he might have expected though, the observation simply flows through him and is gone.

“You won’t find any sympathy with that one. Completely ruthless.” Finn confirms with a smirk. “Don’t worry, though. Big, strong Finn will protect you from the skeletons.”. Yeah. Horror film? Pah. Finn’s got this.

At that, when the next jumpy moment comes around, Poe throws his head into Finn’s chest -out of instinct-, shielding his eyes from the onslaught, shuddering against him as a chill runs down his spine. Finn tips his head back in an open-mouthed laugh, chuckling warmly at the usually fearless pilot, but he slips his arm around Poe without thinking -out of instinct- and clasps him close.

Poe continues to muffle complaints into Finn’s chest, peeking at the screen at intervals. “Ugh, I really don’t like it.” Poe complains, but he’s laughing intermittently through his jitters, as are you. With the appearance of a giant skull on the screen, Poe draws his knees up to his chest and is practically sitting on Finn’s lap.

“Bravest pilot in the Resistance, everyone.”, you announce, laughing fondly at your friend and patting him soothingly on the back, Finn infers, from the sound of some percussive taps. “Sorry, I honestly didn’t remember the skeletons. Hilarious as this is, shall we fast-forward for you?” you offer.

“No way. I’ve got this.” Poe insists, even though his head is still buried into Finn’s chest.

Speaking of that.

Ohhhh boyyyy, Finn is panicking again. He feels frozen. He can’t bring himself to unhook his arm from around Poe. He certainly can’t bring himself to pull him any closer, even though… he wants to?

Finn feels like his heart is beating so hard that Poe must surely be able to feel it through his chest. So hard that surely you must be able to hear it, even from where you’re sat. Surely? What’s worse, is that Poe’s divinely soft curls are brushing up under his chin, so close that Finn can smell his kriffing shampoo. And, oh boy, it smells good. What’s more, Poe’s warm, steady palm is resting on Finn’s chest, the weight of it there through the rise and fall of his breath as the pilot remains nestled there. If Bb-8 comes at him with some kinda comment about his heart rate right now, he swears…

“I hate you, Sunshine. Why did you choose this movie?” Poe moans into Finn’s chest, the pilot’s curls still tickling his jawline, his breath warm through the thin fabric of his tee. Finn squirms uncomfortably in his seat, feeling out of his depth, not for the first time this evening.

When he realises his predicament, Finn gulps and helplessly looks over to you. You notice the movement in your periphery and look away from the screen toward your boyfriend. And then you are examining Finn’s face steadily, watching all of this unfold, and the two of you exchange a meaningful glance without words. Maybe you two do have your own unique form of shorthand after all. Finn feels like you can see through him, because if there’s one thing Finn is bad at, it’s lying. Especially with you, Finn is an open-book. He wants it that way, sometimes even when it’s to his detriment. And so, he can barely even make a thin attempt to conceal it. In fact, Finn feels like he’s transmitting his feelings for Poe like a flare, for all present to see.

The longer you stare at Finn, the more he feels his face becomes laden with… apology. He definitely doesn’t want to lose the best thing that ever happened to him. That’s you, by the way. If Finn is reading this right though, if his instincts are right, you’re not mad. In fact, if he’s reading this right, you… want this too?

“Maybe we wanted an excuse to snuggle you.”, you suggest, in answer to Poe’s question, your eyes still steady on Finn as you raise a suggestive eyebrow, and settle your hand on top of his where it rests on the pilot’s shoulder, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

When Finn’s voice comes out next it is high-pitched. “Can I talk to you over there for a second?”. If he wasn’t before, he’s definitely sweating now.

You excuse yourself from Poe momentarily as Finn extricates himself and shuffles you over to the corner, under the guise of something or other. Poe’s light complaints remain audible in the background as the movie continues rolling, and Finn sees that at least he’s still chatting away to Beebs, the droid wobbling away excitably as the events on screen, hopefully drowning out the conversation about to unfold.

“What are you up to?” Finn asks you outright, coming at you way more offensively than intended. “You’re being damn sketchy, and I need to know what’s-“. Don’t they say that offence is the best form of defence?

You interrupt with a gentle, knowing smile and a caress of your palm to the side of Finn’s face, countering his rising panic with softness, like you’ve gotten so good at doing. “I know how you feel about me, Finn. I also know you like him.” You say straight, speaking plainly and slowly, and Finn pinches his full lips together. Still, he can’t bring himself to deny it. He can’t lie to you. Couldn’t possibly.

“Baby...”, he begins, grappling for words he doesn’t know how to find. Finn had spent so long with no-one, no-one at all to call his, and suddenly he felt like he had two people he wanted to belong to. What were the chances of them both wanting the same thing as well? He didn’t want to lose you over this. Not ever, not over anything, in fact. 

“It’s ok.”, you reassure. “I... I like him too.” You nibble on your lip with your admission, as if unsure of how this might go down. Still, your eyes remain calm and steady, and something in them communicates a… good feeling to Finn. Although you’re admitting this, it doesn’t feel like you’re moving further away from him. If anything, Finn’s never felt you closer. It’s like he’s finally seeing the truth of you, feeling the Force slip through you freely, along its true path, without kinks or tangles. Love, free to gain momentum. To flow.

Finn examines your eyes for tricks or hidden agendas but finds you as honest and as straightforward as ever, looking at him with the full force of your love. He interrupts your train of thought with the pad of his thumb on your bottom lip. “-You’re deadass?”

“Serious.” you promise, with a bob of your head. “So... I’m sorry about the shitty timing of this conversation- I didn’t know Poe was practically going to jump into your lap- but, if he wanted to...” you ask, interlocking your fingers into Finn’s and tipping your head subtly back towards Poe “...which I’m pretty confident he does, by the way… Do you want to?”

Finn searches your eyes again, and when he gulps at that thought, he sees you backpedal. “No pressure, no rush.”

Finn frowns, seeking to get this exactly right. “You mean, like… me and him and you?” He swallows thickly.

You grip on to his hands more tightly. “I mean, like, all three of us.”. There’s something about your phrasing compared to Finn’s that just hits different. Like you’re not separate points on a triangle, but all part of one single shape.

Suddenly, strangely, Finn is as calm as he’s ever felt. For a moment, it’s as though everything in the galaxy has aligned. He smooths his thumbs over your hand where he holds you. He nods his head in response and you echo the certainty in his eyes. “Hell to the yes.”, he says with conviction, and, as he plants the softest, most loving kiss to your lips, both your faces split into broad grins.

“Guys!” Poe’s voice cuts through the room, and Finn and you both spin towards him in sync, anticipating another complaint about skeletons.

That’s not what you get. Nowhere near.

“If you’re gonna make-out can you at least include me, already?” Poe says with a wayward smirk, one arm folded elaborately behind his head, and the other continuing to shuttle popcorn into his smug mouth.

He looks with amusement between Finn’s confused face and yours, his pretty eyes half-lidded.

“Forgettin’ I have a droid with super hearing, huh? Whisper about banging me at your peril.” Poe sets the popcorn aside and folds both of his arms behind his head now, looking between you both sweetly. Hungrily. The suggestive quirk of his eyebrow which follows, as an invitation, is almost too much for Finn to handle. Is this really about to happen?

Finn grips your hand for reassurance (his own reassurance, no point trying to disguise it). Finn isn’t afraid to show vulnerability, after all. He’s pleased, though, when you supply a firm squeeze to his now sweaty palm in return.

Making his farewells, Bb-8 takes his definite cue to roll the hell out of the room, before he sees things he’d have to request a data wipe for. The droid skedaddles, and then it really is just the three of you.

The three of you.

“Wait, you heard that? And you’re ok with this?”, Finn asks Poe in auto-disbelief.

Poe simply continues to languish, dramatically kicking off his blanket and revealing him laid out in his pyjama shorts and tee. Looking pretty damn appealing in them too, especially as the tee rides up his tan torso, revealing a light trail of hair heading down beneath his shorts. Those thick thighs stretched out in front of him. “Do your worst. I’m all yours.”, he announces. “And yours.”

You and Finn both notice Poe’s pyjama shorts tenting at the same moment, even before he does. When he follows the direction of your eyes, he looks down at himself almost apologetically. Almost.

You grin, and Finn sees your eyes seethe with lust. “Mmm. Maybe we can help you with that, Poe Dameron. Finn? What do you think?”      

“Hell to the yes.”, Finn enthuses, as you both pad across to the makeshift seating area… which is now suddenly looking a lot like a makeshift bed to Finn’s eyes. Guess he did do with a good job with the room after all.                                                                                                          

You exchange a heated, conspiratorial look with Finn before your eyes converge on Poe.

“Oh oh!”, Poe says, but the devious grin which spreads on his face suggests he’s gonna love every bit of what he’s in for, his eyes darkening with desire as you and Finn move to him in tandem.

Finn watches you drop to your knees on the blankets and crawl to Poe’s side, your eyes blazing like suns and his soft like moonlight. He hesitates before coming towards you both, simply to drink in the beauty of this for a moment, marvelling at you two as if you’re planets the galaxy has caught in its net, each trying to find something to orbit. Planets now finally slotting into their rightful trajectory amongst the stars. Finding their place.

Finn takes up his position to the other side of Poe, and he could easily become nervous. But you and Poe each take one of his hands, and he feels entirely safe, especially as the pilot’s eyes fall on him, and then you, soft and warm as he speaks in that rich, smooth tone of his. “Nothing happens that you don’t want, ‘kay? You want it to stop, we stop. How about we start this slow?”

“I understand.”. Finn’s voice is calm and certain, gathering conviction. He trusts both of you, and he knows exactly where he wants this to start. “Do you want to kiss Poe, baby?”, he suggests to you, and your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip before you respond with a breathy, unhinged “Yes.”

“Kiss him then.”, Finn encourages, a gentle, reassuring squeeze to your hand before he releases you. Knowing that you’re not going anywhere. Not getting any further away from him, only closer.

“Yeah? Can I kiss you?”, Poe asks you expectantly, as your gaze melds with his, locking-on like a starship caught by gravity. A gulp trails down his throat as you respond, voice hollowed out by how full with emotion you are.

“Yeah, you can kiss me, Poe.”

And, as soon as he has confirmation, Poe’s hands come to your hips and he abruptly and easily drags you onto his lap, your folded legs finding their place either side of his torso, your arms flying around his neck as his sudden motion knocks you off balance. Your momentum carries you through, enough that your foreheads are almost touching, your head hovering slightly above his. Poe’s strong, secure arms circle you as you straddle him, your butt seated comfortably on top of him, where his bare thighs press hot on yours.

If he pulled you to him abruptly, held you to him instantly, his lips seem to take an eternity to find yours, your stunted breaths mingling in the tight space between one another. His head tips up to you achingly slowly as your breath hitches, hands clinging desperately to one another, so many years of friendship about to collapse in on itself; not to die, but to emerge in a supernova. Poe’s lips hover, then brush feather light over yours at first, as if he has waited so long for this that he has forgotten how to do anything but wait. His tongue probes next, sliding experimentally along your bottom lip, your hands fisting in each other’s shirts as your mouth parts to grant him access.

The full kiss which blooms next is a certainly an explosion. An impassioned, tender, hungry press of lips and fingers winding in hair and hips writhing against one another as tongues mingle wildly and bodies embrace. This is a kiss fuelled by emotion, where desire suddenly learns to becomes physicality. Where souls so connected grasp to translate the language they’ve spoken together for so long into their bodies. Where you and Poe rewrite your practiced shorthand and speak to one another in a new tongue.

You break, breathless, and your eyes filled with tears. Poe looks up at you, eyes shining similarly, his brow furrowing in concern as he sees the emotion evident. Still, he doesn’t have to ask if you’re good, even as a tear rolls down your cheek, because it is accompanied by a broad smile, just like sunshine, the rays of it warming him all the way to his bones. (But he doesn’t want to think about bones.)

Smiling, still holding each other, you lean your foreheads together and swivel your gaze towards Finn.

“Oh damn, that’s was… beautiful.”, Finn expresses softly, emotion glinting in his eyes too.

You reach a palm out to Finn’s cheek again, drinking-in the sight of him in the low light as if you are blown away by him. “Your eyes look like Starshine, baby.”

Sunshine, Moonshine, and Starshine.

Yeah, that could work, Finn thinks. That could definitely work, alright.

Finn’s smile beams back at you. “Also, that was hot. Damn hot. Oh damn.”

You laugh warmly and happily, the sound lilting over both Poe and Finn’s.

You look down at Poe as he delivers a gentle hum, and proceeds in an equally gentle yet chiding tone. “Oh, Finn. Honey. There’s so much more where that came from.”

Poe looks at Finn ravenously, and you shift obligingly off of the pilot’s lap so he can move to him, with a look in his eyes which tells you the parting will be short lived.

Both men come to stand on their knees, pressing their bodies together, stomach to stomach, chest to chest. Poe deliberately winds his hand around the nape of Finn’s neck and grips him firmly there as asks the same, breathy question he had to you. “Can I kiss you?”.

Finn responds keenly, affirmatively, and Poe dives in, the kiss sinking all the way through Finn just like moonshine, warming and blazing all the way to the pit of him until he feels like a shooting star has trailed right through his body and left its tailing glow behind. Before too long, Finn feels your weight shifting on the makeshift bed too as his mouth continues to moves hungrily against Poe’s. Finn and Poe break as you rise from your position, coming to press your chest against Poe’s back and hooking your head over his shoulder as your arms circle your two boys.

Poe looks made-up to be sandwiched in between the two of you, Finn notices, before he leans over the pilot’s shoulder to kiss you just as hungrily. In fact, Poe looks positively delighted to be smack bang in the middle of your togetherness. Between you, but not as a barrier.

Poe practically growls as the wet, delicate smacks of yours and Finn’s tongues and lips working against each other filter straight into the shell of his ear. He groans deliciously as you add light hums of satisfaction, the kiss expanding outward, like the galaxy, to engulf him too. “If you two keep making those delicious noises in my ear than you’re going to get me excited.”

Finn breaks from you to smile at Poe, gently pressing his hips forward, up against the pilot’s arousal. “You mean this isn’t you excited already?”, Finn grins, with a tick of his eyebrow.

“Just warming up, Starshine.”, Poe purrs, eyes half-moons from beneath his long lashes.

Finn beams at the new nickname, his chest shaking lightly with a deep, rumbling laughter as he trails his lips over Poe’s in a kiss once again. As lips meld once more, Finn realises that while some people may search for their other half, he had been searching for his two-thirds. He has found two people he wants to belong to, to have belong to him. And now that he has found them, he feels entirely complete.

After so long with no-one, if anyone deserves two someones it has to be Finn. And his heart is certainly big enough to love this much. He’s been waiting a long time for somewhere to put all the love he saved up, while he was in that place where nobody loved anything. Now, it’s finally overflowing.

The three of you dissolve into one another, feeling like you’re on to something good. Something very good indeed.

To be continued (concluding part up next)

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[simplyotometrash]

Hi hi! This is my first time doing an ask so please forgive me if I do not know a certain etiquette for asks dhehdudj. anyways ♡´･ᴗ･`♡Can I request an MC with severe Social Anxiety that one day asks for a temporary fear potion? Like one that gets rids of their fear(which is part of SAD). And then they end up being super chaotic and super happy until it wears off? Undateables please!!! I love your work and please take your time ❤️💖💘💝

I’m not gonna add Barbatos or Luke to this. I can’t write Barbatos for the life of me!

Lucifer:

He was used to the way you usually were.

That doesn’t mean he liked it.

All Lucifer wants is for his love to be happy. 

He’s definitely very patient.

So when you take the potion and you completely change, he’s thrown for a loop at first.

You’re so chaotic!

But that smile on your face is all he really needs. 

He can deal with the chaos if it means seeing such a happy smile every single day.

He’d ask you if you want to have a stock of that potion to take whenever you please. 

If potions are what you need to be who you want to be, Lucifer will be in full support of it.

Keeps the potions FAR from Beel so he can’t accidentally drink them.

Mammon:

Oh man, he is completely taken aback.

In a good way.

It doesn’t take him long to bounce back and adjust!

Mammon is the most supportive of the utter chaos you become!

In fact, he actively is your partner in crime for whatever you want to get into.

Seeing you happy and not dealing with your fear and social anxiety makes his heart melt.

Gets caught staring and smiling at you a ton.

He denies it of course.

But he just wants this burned into his memory forever. 

He won’t push the idea of you always having this potion at the ready when you want it.

Mammon just wants you to do what you please. 

He would, of course, love to have the chaotic version of you regularly because it gives him someone to get into mischief with. 

But he loves you no matter what.

Levi:

Oh, the poor boy doesn’t know how to react.

He also has severe social anxiety, borderline agoraphobia.

He personally liked having someone else who was like him.

He finally felt understood.

But the sight of you just radiating light and being unabashedly happy makes him change his mind.

It’s something he thinks he could get used to.

You’re still you. You’re just the version of yourself you would be if not for your severe social anxiety.

And Levi loves all parts of you.

Boy does he get jealous when other demons try to flirt with you though.

Green with envy. His demon form begins to slip out after a while.

No one hits on his human!

But he won’t be able to do much other than blush and pull you away.

Is a bit relieved when the potion wears off.

He loves seeing new sides of you but it was actually exhausting. 

Levi doesn’t think he could physically keep up with you if you were like that all the time.

Secretly considers trying the potion for himself to see how he would act.

Satan:

He’s probably part of the reason you even got the potion in the first place.

Found it in a book when you once said you wished you could go even just one day without being eaten up by social anxiety.

And immediately he began digging.

There’s an amused smile on his face as he watches you all throughout the day.

If it’s what makes you happy then he is glad he found it.

He’s already glad anyway because he gets to see his little human enjoying themselves without a care in the world.

Wonders if there’s a way to make the potion’s effects more permanent.

If not then he knows how to get some more just for you. 

He would do anything for you after all.

He has plenty of sneakily taken photos of you from that day so that he can always remember it in case you decide you don’t want to drink the potion again.

But he always has some stored away safely in case you ever change your mind.

Asmo:

Excited for this!

Asmo is your biggest hypeman and wants what is best for you.

He even changed up how he would go about dates just to make you comfortable!

But he does take advantage of the day just to be able to take you out to as many places as possible.

He’s the one who would make a whole day out of it.

Even if it meant skipping school and getting in trouble for it later.

He wants to do as many things as he can with you. 

Your happiness is everything to him.

And the date is amazing! You two do so much together in one day. It was like a marathon.

Asmo would be the one here to suggest you drink the potion more often. Or just keep some around so you two can go on more dates!

He wants to see you shine like the star he knows you are!

He doesn’t mind the old routine for dates. It made you feel at ease. But he does want to be able to take you to all kinds of places.

He wants to show you the world~

Beel:

He’s pretty confused at first. You’re acting differently and he isn’t sure why.

But he figures it out!

If you’re happy then so is he. 

Seeing you so chaotic is pretty enjoyable.

Beel is very emotionally aware so he knew you were never comfortable going out or being around people. He saw your anxiety even if your signs weren’t as visible as others. 

He could always tell and was always ready to bring you comfort.

But seeing you like this is new! He likes it!

He doesn’t go about your day any differently than normal. He sees no need to.

He’s already always happy to do whatever you want.

He does take you out to one of his favorite places to eat. If your social anxiety manifested in a way that made you not ever eat in public then he would most certainly want to take you out to eat. 

He expresses his full support of whatever you want to do once the potion wears off.

Just don’t let him drink it by accident.

Belphie:

“Why do you have so much energy?”

10/10 cranky boy 

The chaos is new to him from you. 

Especially if it comes with lots of energy.

Belphie is exhausted just watching you. He tries to spend as much time out of bed with you as he can even though it just makes him want to take a nap.

Doesn’t really care what chaotic shenanigans you get up to so long as it doesn’t involve making him participate.

He’s happy to just watch.

Although he enjoys seeing this side of you, he does kinda miss the quieter version.

Maybe that’s the crankiness talking though.

He dragged himself out of bed for you. That is true love right there. Don’t say he never did anything.

Falls asleep several times throughout the day only to abruptly wake back up. He can just sense when someone's going to mess with him. 

He doesn’t want to risk you doing something while he naps. Nowhere is safe lmao.

But you can tell he isn’t hating his time spent with you at all.

You could’ve sworn you saw him smiling even if it was pretty brief.

It isn’t so bad after all.

Diavolo:

He totally gets involved in whatever chaos you create.

He’s just a big kid at heart. He wants to have fun, too!

Of course, he gets chided by Lucifer for misrepresenting himself.

If he can’t do this stuff with you then he is going to fully support you.

Even if it isn’t so good for the school.

Seeing you this happy is worth it.

He would also be one to have those potions ready for whenever you would wish to take one again.

He would like to have a day where he can be fully chaotic with you!

It sounds like fun to him!

Also it’d be nice to not be under Lucifer’s watchful eye.

Solomon:

Magic boy made the damn thing.

Instant regret

Just don’t mess with his stuff, please.

He’s calm and collected, enjoying watching you.

Just don’t fuck with any of his things.

He made the potion and he can undo its effects.

Nah he wouldn’t do that to you.

While he isn’t actively chaotic, he’s got the chaos vibe.

Anything he can do to mentally fuck with people is fun.

So if this means you are going to be his partner in screwing with people’s minds then he’s all for it.

And honestly, he did it just because it’s you.

He’s got a soft spot when it comes to anything you want.

He wants to help.

Since he made the potion you can be that he is ready to make bigger batches to store just for you.

All you need to do is ask.

Simeon:

Simeon.exe has stopped working

He’s a bit confused

How did your entire personality shift so greatly?

Was he missing something?

Ah! Now he gets it!

Then he’s your angelic supporter.

Not that he wouldn’t be supportive of you to begin with.

He’s always ready to support you.

Angel loves you.

You’re his angel.

He likes to sit back and watch as the chaos unfolds.

Give him some popcorn.

Just don’t tell Beel.

“You needn’t change a thing about yourself, but if this is who you wish to be then I will always stand by you and that choice.”

God I suck at writing the undateables!

[98prilla]

To The Dead

Next

Previous

AO3

...

“Howdy doodie, ghostly gaggle, how goes it?” Remus asked, reappearing in their commons, keeping his voice a low almost whisper, despite his buzzing energy, careful of disturbing Virgil.

 He’d been laid across the couch, his head in Roman’s lap, who was absently playing with his hair, a slight frown on his face as he gazed at Virgil’s too pale, too still form. He was a bit surprised, to see Patton and Janus were gone from the room, he figured they’d be hovering like a pair of mother hens, though he wasn’t as surprised to find Logan missing, no doubt he was trying to figure out what exactly the living occupants of the house had done to their little shadow.

 “Hey, Rems.” Roman murmured noncomitally in response, not breaking his focus on Virgil for a single moment, and he frowned, slipping onto the armrest behind Roman, perching atop it, wrapping his arms around Roman, resting his head on his shoulder.

 “It isn’t your fault, Ro.” Roman huffed, shaking his head.

 “But it is! I drove him away, I’m the one who said those hurtful things, I was scared, and so I scared him, and Janus was right, who am I, to make him more afraid of himself than he already is?” Roman’s voice cracked, and Remus could feel the remorse and guilt practically radiating off of Roman.

 “But you didn’t mean it, Ro. I know you didn’t. I say shit all the time I don’t really mean, and you still forgive me for it. This isn’t any different.”

 “It is so. I’ve known you for over a century. Nothing you could say would drive me away, but I keep thinking…”

 “A dangerous pastime, I know.” Remus quoted, making Roman huff again, a tinge of laughter to it, that he counted as a win, along with the small flicker of a smile.

 “What if you had said that, about me, when you first were drawn here? How different, would it have been? I was so far gone, already. If you’d treated me as I treated him, I don’t think I would have come back from it.” Remus hummed, thinking.

 It was true, that by the time he’d wandered to the property, drawn like a moth to a flame by the unstable energy, the swirling miasma of hate and negativity and power, Roman had been barely recognizable as a human soul. He’d burned so bright and angry, instead of becoming a wraith, he was more likely to become a banshee, to howl to the winds, to rampage and scream and tear until the sound sent the place crumbling down around him. The edges of corruption were there, sinking into his spirit, and Roman was right that the wrong move would have sent him over. It was one of the very few times Remus had been patient in his life, weathering the worst of Roman’s rage, the worst of the power directed his way, at his invasion of the space, until Roman had worn himself out enough he was nearly lucid, enough to understand that Remus didn’t mean any harm, anyways.

 “I don’t think so.” He said, ponderingly, Roman stiffening in surprise. He slid off the arm of the couch, idly standing and tapping his chin as he thought. “I don’t think that would have broken you. I think it would have made you mad. Angry. Angry at me, which would have been just as effective, as the more… gentle approach I took.”

 “Remus, me being angry was the whole problem!” Remus shook his head fervently.

 “No no no, you being angry at your family was the problem. You resenting being stuck in a place you hated was the problem. You were directing all your emotion at something intangible, at a memory of a thing that didn’t exist anymore. I think if I’d given you something to hate in the now, given you me, to really, truly rage at, it would have brought you to the present. It would have made you realize what was past is past, and there’s nothing to be done about it. I think we would have gotten to the same place, just down a different road.” He looked up, nearly laughing at the slightly awestruck expression on Roman’s face, before shrugging and smirking. “Or you would have lost your marbles entirely, who’s to say?” Roman snorted, freezing as Virgil shifted, though he didn’t wake, merely rolled over onto his side. “He’s a lot like you. There’s so much emotion, bottled up in there. Loathing and sadness and fear, of course, but under it… under it all is rage, Roman. I don’t think he even realizes it’s there, but he’s burning with it. I think that’s what he’s really afraid of, all of that anger, that he’s directing at himself, until it implodes.”

 “He needs to acknowledge it’s there at all. That he has a right, to his anger. He’s been forced to hide everything for so long, Rems, it’s no wonder it’s all trying to escape, that he doesn’t know how to handle it, doesn’t even recognize it.”

 “He’ll get there. It’s all still so new to him, Ro, he needs time. You’ve had a century to deal with your baggage. He’s had a few months, most of which he spent hiding. The best you can do is apologize, and make sure you’re here for him. Now, stop worrying so much, and try and relax. The kid is empathic as hell, your stress is making him stress.” With that, Remus vanished, leaving Roman alone with his thoughts, and Virgil, who did have a slight crease to his forehead, a slight downturn to his lips.

 “he’s right, you know. You’ll get there. And I can’t wait to see it.”

…

“Remus! What-“ Logan cut himself off, eyes wide as he looked upon the scene. He’d been a bit worried about Remus’s silence, since the summoning, that always meant he was up to something, but this… this is not what he expected.

 Thomas was on the floor of the basement, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he drew in chalk, having marked out the rough outline of a circle, a few sigils already in place, Remus hovering over his shoulder.

 “Alright, now, copy this one.” Remus drew a shape in the air with practiced ease, the glowing thing pulsing for a moment, before slowly fading away. Thomas leaned back over, copying the pattern. “So this one is basically another protection one. Not that the ghosts here are intending to hurt you, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’ll keep any power from the circle from rebounding back on you, if it snaps.”

 “It can do that?”

 “Yuppers, and it isn’t always pretty. These things are powerful, kid, and so are the spirits you summon. If the circle is too weak, it won’t be able to contain them, too strong, and it’ll sap everything from them. You got lucky, the first time, in that the power rebounded onto Virgil, instead of you.”

 “Remus! What are you doing?” He hissed finally, Remus turning his head one hundred eighty degrees to face him. grinning.

 “Oh heya, teach! Just tutoring my newest student!”

 “You shouldn’t be telling him any of this! This is dangerous! He could hurt himself, he could summon someone he doesn’t mean to, you should be discouraging this!” Remus snorted.

 “You know I’m always one to entertain a bad idea.”

 “What!? You think this is a bad idea?!” Thomas asked, looking between Remus and the space he seems to be staring at, where he’s sure another ghost is. If he squinted, he could almost see the outline of something, like a heat haze over asphalt, the wavy distortion of… something. He heard Remus continuing to bicker, but slowly, another voice started to trickle in, though it was distant, like an old radio broadcast, crackling and popping with static.

 “-puts all of us at risk!” He hissed sharply, pressing a hand to his temple at the rebounding voice, echoing through his mind, and for a moment, the form was crystal clear, a sharp featured man, dressed a bit old fashioned, like something out of his grandparent’s photographs, eyes flashing and fists clenched in anger. For a moment, the being’s eyes glanced to his, widening minutely as he met them, looked right at him, then he blinked, and it was gone.

 Logan reeled backwards, hand clutching at his chest, words knocked out of him. He’d seen the recognition, the startled, amazed look, on Thomas’s face, reflected on his own.

 “he saw me.” He whispered, shocked into stillness, eyes darting to Remus. “how… it’s not finished, he didn’t… how did he see me?”

 “He’s got raw talent, Logan, that’s what I was trying to tell you. Not just anyone can use a Ouija board and actually have it connect with the spirit realm, and that ramshackle shitty ass summoning circle? That shouldn’t have done a thing, it was so poorly constructed. At most, it should have attracted me to its energy, but instead it summoned Virgil, the one with the most power and the least desire to be seen. That’s power, innate power. I’m not surprised, that with more exposure to us, he’s starting to see you guys, hear you. I wouldn’t be surprised if those abilities kept growing. You’re in for the ride, kid, whether you like it or not.” Remus added, winking at Thomas, who was still slightly stricken, staring at where he’d seen the ghost.

 “Which one was that? Or, were you? Not… not one of the ones, who used the board, and definitely not Virgil.” Remus looked at Logan, brow raised.

 “Up to you, if you wanna share.” Logan inhaled deeply, just to center himself, before focusing on projecting outward just slightly. If Remus was right, that slight increase in power should be enough for Thomas to hear him, though not see him.

 “I am Logan. It is… a surprise, to be meeting you in this manner. I can’t imagine having Remus as a teacher has been too enlightening.” He watched with interest as the man winced again, staring right at him, though there was no recognition this time. Fascinating, so Thomas could sense where his words were coming from, even without manifestation of a physical form.

 “I mean, it was either learn or get tormented until I died, soooo…” He glared at Remus, who shrugged, kicking up his feet and floating reclined in the air.

 “What? If he’s got the knack for it, it’s better he knows what he’s doing with it, otherwise he’s just a danger to everyone. If they kept fooling around how they were, they were gonna summon something a lot more powerful and a lot less friendly than they, or we, could handle.”

 “I… suppose I cannot argue with that logic. But, from now on, I will be helping with and observing these lessons. I don’t trust you not to intentionally mislead him into something dangerous.” Logan countered, eyes narrowed.

 “Ugh, fiiiine. I wasn’t gonna do anything too bad, anyway. Just a minor imp! Just for fun!”

 “What!?” Thomas screeched again, Remus enjoying the slightly horrified look on his face far too much to care about the face palm occurring on Logan’s end.

 “He is a poltergeist. He literally feeds on chaos. Any opportunity to cause it will not be passed up. And as much as he wants to protect us, he also wants to have some fun, often at the expense of the living members of the household. There’s a reason this property was so cheap. It goes on the market every few years.”

 “The shortest stay was six months! A lot flies died for that victory. RIP squadron alpha. RIP.”

 “I… ok. Not even gonna ask. Thanks, Logan. I’m… imma go process this. Somewhere. Anywhere.” Remus shrugged, following Thomas up the basement steps.

 “Suit yourself! You know where to find me!” With a twirl, Remus vanished, leaving behind the faint scent of sulpher, just for fun. Logan rolled his eyes and wordlessly followed, his own mind still spinning.

 Thomas could hear him. He could see him.

 He wasn’t sure, exactly, what that made him feel.

[queenborhapreaderships]

That’s That

Fandom: Doctor Who

Ship: Eleven/Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

AO3 link

Description: “The Tardis takes a bit of a tumble and you bang your head up pretty bad. Cue a very worried Doctor. He takes care of you which causes certain... things to come to light.”

***

“What?” The Doctor roared, “This doesn’t happen, this can’t happen” he continued to run around the Tardis console like a madman.

“Doctor, tell me what’s happening! Tell me what you need from me!” you shout in an attempt to make yourself useful and potentially help calm The Doctor down a little from the ragged state he’s in.

“No no no, there’s nothing you can do, (y/n), unless you’ve learned how to repair the external shields on a Tardis overnight. Have you, by any chance?” he glances over to you and then when the Tardis makes an angry beeping sound, he sprints over to the opposite side and attempts to pull down a lever. It won’t budge.

“Come on!” he screams, yanking to no avail. “The shields shouldn’t break down, that’s the entire reason they exist in the first place! Nothing should be able to hurt her! With the exception of the Titanic”, he mutters under his breath.

“The what?” you look up and stare at him.

Before he has the time to answer, you’re both thrown flying in different directions. Now, with a life in the Tardis, you’re definitely used to rough landings, but this was different. It’s like the area dealing with the field of gravity switched off for a second, just enough time to really throw you around the room.

You weren’t sure if you were on the ceiling, the walls, or the floor until The Doctor began grabbing at your arm. He was scrambling across the floor in an attempt to get you up and safe. Another bump throws you down the stairs, but at least this time you’ve got something to hold on to, even if it’s someone else getting thrown around too.

When the Tardis finally stops shaking the two of you about, you land side by side. You both sit up wearily, The Doctor rubbing at the back of his head with pain lighting up all of his features.

“Well that wasn’t very fun, now was it?” he turns to look at you and you grunt in agreement. Talking doesn’t sound like much fun either, you’ve finally found the time to acknowledge the splitting headache tearing at your skull. You groan and lie back down because that seems to be the position with the least amount of throbbing.

The Doctor glances from you with your hands rubbing circles around your aching temples back to the Tardis, he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“I’ll be right back” he mutters as he bounds up to the flashing console and fiddles around for a minute or two. Once The Doctor finally seems to get her back in order he rushes back down to you. “I’m sorry, I’m right here. I had to make sure we weren’t going to get taken on any more joyrides. We’re safe now, I’ve got you. Can you sit up? Is it just your head?”

He’s hovering. He always hovers when he’s concerned. It’s really not that bad, it would just be better if everything above your chest didn’t exist.

“Yeah, my head and my neck, but I’ll be okay. You don’t have to worry,” you say, rolling over in an attempt to make yourself comfortable on the floor, the cold actually doesn’t feel terrible on your overheated body.

“Oh, (y/n), you know I’ll worry no matter what,” he says, a soft grin growing across his face. “Now let’s get you up, can you walk?”

“I’m sure I could, but why would I want to? I’m perfectly comfortable down here,” you grumble and curl up into a ball, attempting to get away from the offending bright lights. The Tardis dims them instantly and gives a hum, whether that be an apology or an attempt to motivate you to get up, you’re not quite sure. Frankly, you don’t have the energy to contemplate the matter.

Right before you allow yourself to doze off, you feel what must be The Doctor scooping you up into his arms. Your suspicions are confirmed when you feel the warmth radiating off of him. You can’t help but rest your head in the crevice of his neck. The last thing you feel is a kiss being placed on the top of your head before you drift away.

~~~~~

You wake up to the sound of a door opening. When you crack your eyelids, you smile at the image of The Doctor trying his best to sneak in the room without disturbing you. It’s adorable, really. It’s not his fault you’re a light sleeper. He looks over to you and you see his eyes widen.

“Oh. Oops…”

“Shh, it’s okay. I should be getting up anyway. How long have I been out?” you ask, hoping to squash the guilt you know is bubbling up in The Doctor.

“Only an hour or so, lie back down, you need rest,” he says, taking a seat next to your bed.

“I’m really okay, Doctor. I promise.”

“I know you will be, but you took a nasty spill. I don’t want to risk anything when it comes to you, ever,” he says, reaching over to run his fingers through your hair. All of a sudden you can’t make eye contact anymore, you avert your eyes and feel the dam breaking. The feelings you’ve been trying to suffocate for months have come flooding back with a vengeance.

The Doctor notices a shift in the atmosphere and is instantly concerned. If you were able to look at him, you’d notice the worry light up across his face but you still can’t get yourself to meet his eyes.

“(y/n)? What’s wrong? Are you in pain? How can I help?” the concern laced in his voice causes your heart to practically skip a beat. Why does he have to be so goddamn genuine? You don’t want to roll over and ignore him, that would be too childish, but you don’t know what to do. So you don’t do anything, you just. Freeze.

“(y/n)? Okay, you’re starting to frighten me now…” you want to say something but you’re just so overwhelmed. You finally garner the courage to look over and his heart breaks the second he sees your red-rimmed eyes. You weren’t crying, but damn, were you close. The Doctor finally began to sense that this wasn’t a physical ailment plaguing you.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I’ll always be here. Are you homesick? I can take you back if you want to be with your family” he offers, doing everything he can to prevent the hint of sadness from leaking through in his voice. You can tell he’s started to ramble again, overthinking everything there is to be thought.

“It’s not that. It’s…” you croak out. “I just…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m worried if I tell you, you’ll send me home. Or it’ll be weird and I don’t want it to be weird,” you say, the shame rising up throughout you.

“What? A time-traveling alien with a blue box that’s bigger on the inside isn’t already weird?” he asks, smiling slightly to himself. “There’s nothing you could say that would make me stop loving you.” Your stomach drops and you’re instantly frozen again. This time, nothing stops you from staring at him dead on. Did he just? But did he mean it like… that? He couldn’t have, right?

“Shh, stop thinking so loudly, it’s really rather annoying” he chuckles. “I love you and that’s that,” he says pointedly. Before you’re able to process what you’re doing, you’ve lunged into his open arms. He’s got one hand tangled in your hair and the other holding the small of your back firmly. You bury your head into his shoulder, trying not to cry and get his jacket wet.

“I love you too.” you barely whisper.

The rest of the night was kind of a blur, but what you do remember is an overwhelming sense of home. Wherever the Tardis is, is home. Wherever The Doctor is? That’s home too.

***

My inbox is open for requests for any fandom I’m in! Let me know if you liked this, it’s a little old but I thought I’d share it anyway. 

[sign-from-god-complex]

cloud nine

Summary: It was the closeness Virgil liked about it—a kind of passive affection that soothed over the cracks in your soul if just for a moment, long enough for you to relax and breathe. Maybe it didn’t solve everything, maybe it didn’t solve anything, but Virgil thought it was a good place to start.

Or, in the words of my qpp, “Virgil deals with everything by taking a nap. His boyfriends use this to calm him down. He’s gay.”

Pairing: LAMP

Warnings: Description of a panic attack, anxious thoughts (and in that, a very brief mention of drugging and kidnapping) and food mention.

A/N: Logan is the little spoon and yes, I will die on that hill. Also the irony of the premise of this fic being naps and cuddling—two things I do not enjoy—is not lost on me.

AO3 Link

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Nap with me?"

Virgil watched Patton's head snap up from where he'd been glaring down at the kitchen counter, the remnants of his baking now mostly cleared away and cupcakes cooling by the oven. Virgil wasn't even sure he'd realised he’d been doing it—some sort of absent-minded projection of his emotions onto the cold marble, as if it were to blame for all that he was feeling—but the glare was gone now. 

"What was that, honey?" Patton asked, his grin big and completely fake. Virgil could see the lines of exhaustion in every inch of his body—the physical manifestation of weeks of overworking and denial.

Virgil wandered further into the kitchen from the doorway he'd been standing in, tucking himself into Patton's chest. It barely took a moment for Patton to wrap his arms around his boyfriend, soft and close and safe, and Virgil could feel the warm glow in his chest increase. He hoped Patton's was doing the same—anything to replace the sadness he knew resided there.

Virgil pressed a kiss to whatever part of his boyfriend he could reach, already feeling almost drunk off of the contact. "Nap with me."

It was Virgil's way of saying, "I want to be near you," and they both knew that, except this time maybe it was for Patton more than himself. Virgil despised seeing any of his partners upset—there was almost nothing worse—and he couldn't do much to try and cheer them up, but he could do this.

There was a moment where Virgil worried Patton was going to protest, claim that he was fine or that he wasn’t very tired—both things Virgil knew to be a lie. Patton just sighed though, heavy and low, and Virgil knew from that that the fake grin was gone—probably had been since the moment he curled up in his arms.

"Yeah, alright, sweetie. I can do that."

Virgil pulled back enough to grab Patton's wrists, barely leaving a moment without some sort of contact, and dragged him over to the couch. Patton followed him patiently with his mask half-cracked, bits of weariness and fatigue shining in through his soft expression.

Throwing himself down, Virgil pulled Patton on top of him and after a moment of trying to get situated he was able to exhale. He could feel Patton's warmth all around him, the soft, chaste kisses he placed against his skin and the exhale of his breath as he relaxed for the first time that afternoon.

"I love you," Patton mumbled, nuzzling the back of Virgil's neck. The gesture was gentle and kind of silly and Virgil smiled softly, melting even further into Patton's embrace.

"I love you too."

Patton hummed in contentment, lazy and full of adoration, and it was barely any time at all before the two of them had fallen asleep.

—————————————-

"Nap with me?"

It was the first thing Virgil had said upon Logan answering the door and although he wished that maybe he had built up to it, he couldn't feel particularly remorseful. It was what he had come here to ask.

Logan blinked at him for a moment, seeming mildly caught out, before finally pulling open the door further and granting Virgil entry to the room.

Logan's bedroom was a mess. There were markers scattered all over the desk as well as shoved into the rubbish bin, scrunched up bits of paper littered all around the floor and a giant poster board shoved onto the bed, half filled up with numbers and graphs Virgil didn't understand the significance of. He could physically feel the stress in the room, filling up the air and pressing down on the two of them as they stood there.

Virgil watched his boyfriend sigh, running his hand through his hair before speaking. "Virgil, I'm very sorry, but I cannot. I simply have too much work to do. Why not go t-"

"No one's seen you in days, L." 

Virgil's interruption was met by a look of shock and guilt—something that only flitted across Logan's face for a moment before he composed himself. Virgil could see the tension in his shoulders though, the restlessness of his hands wanting for something, anything, to do. So, he wasn't fooled.

"Please, nap with me?" Virgil let his voice break slightly, let some of the worry shine through in his words and watched Logan's expression soften.

He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Logan's waist but keeping his face in sight—noting his dry, bitten lips, the bags under deep, brown eyes and the way that they shone with unshed tears. He didn't say anything. Instead, he cupped his boyfriend's cheek in his hand, pressing their foreheads together.

"I- yes. Okay," Logan whispered, words exhaled into the small space between them and Virgil closed that gap, if only for a moment.

The kiss was soft—so delicate and light that you could almost question whether it had happened at all—but the love it exuded was more than enough compensation. There were definitely tears now, Logan's shoulders drooping and his cheeks wet and Virgil moved to wipe them away, touch as light and delicate as the kiss itself.

"My room?"

Logan nodded, expression almost dazed—drifting somewhere in a space beyond deadlines and scripts, filled instead with the softness of Virgil's touch and the warmth of his body.

Virgil's almost certain Logan didn't register the movement to his room until they'd already arrived, Logan curled up against his chest and Virgil's hand running through his hair as he let his boyfriend cry. He muttered quiet reassurances, love confessions spoken in words you might not expect and barely registered the slow, steady breathing of his boyfriend as he too fell asleep.

——————————-

"Nap with me?"

"Virgil, what in the world are you doing?!" Roman yelled, shoving him out of the way just in time for the arrow that was speeding past to spear into the tree behind them. Virgil took a moment to enjoy the warmth of Roman's hands against him but a moment was all he was afforded as Roman pulled back to resume the battle.

Virgil ran up towards him, ignoring the way the clashing of swords edged into his brain and made him wince. Everything was so loud—the yelling and fighting permeating every inch of the forest clearing—and Virgil's head was throbbing, but he had a mission here and he couldn't let his panic get in the way.

"Roman, stop the scene!"

Roman threw Virgil a glance over his shoulder, sparing only a moment to try and figure out his motives before bringing his attention frontwards again. "What are you talking about?! It doesn't work like that!"

"Yes, it does, I know it does!" His words were tight now, tense and desperate.

He shut his eyes in an attempt to gain some sort of balance in his surroundings but it only seemed to make everything louder—the distant sounds now touching up against his skin, prickling and hot and impossible to ignore. He fell to the ground but it barely even registered, sounds piercing his gut and every inch of his body tense and shaky.

"ROMAN, STOP!"

His voice echoed throughout the clearing and in an instant, everyone was gone.

Virgil wasn't even sure if it was him or Roman who had done it but it didn't feel like it mattered now as Roman knelt beside him, hands tightly holding his own and whispering apologies into the now quiet clearing. Virgil wanted to reassure him that he didn't need to apologise, he just needed to listen, but all he could get out were gasps as he tried to bring himself back to a state of calm.

After a moment Virgil could feel tapping against his skin—one, two, three, four, pause; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, pause; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, pause—and he held his breath, trying to follow along despite his body screaming for more air. He could hear Roman letting out bits of praise amidst Virgil's heaving breaths, reassuring him how well he was doing and how perfect he was and how much he loved him and Virgil gripped his hands tighter, trying not to cry.

By the time Virgil could breathe again his entire body was sore, his muscles weak and his head still pulsating with every movement. He released the grip he had on Roman's hands, letting them fall away and wincing slightly as he drew back entirely, sapping away the warmth Virgil had been soaking up.

"I'm sorry, darling, I should have listened to you." His head was hung, shame and self-directed anger radiating from his posture. Virgil maybe would have smacked him if he'd had any energy left in his body. 

"It's not your fault, princey."

Roman's head snapped up as he began to protest, "But, I-"

"It's not." Virgil sighed, pushing Roman back until he was laying on the grass beneath them. "I'm the one who decided to come into your realm in the first place; I knew this might happen."

He curled up beside him, head resting on Roman's chest as it rose and fell with his breaths, slowly matching the rhythm with his own as a hand found its way into his hair. It wasn't the most comfortable place to take a nap but Virgil could already feel himself getting drowsy, the panic attack having drained away all of his regular nervous energy and leaving him with nothing but drooping eyelids and heavy limbs.

"You don't have to come out here and fight a dragon witch or whatever to be important, you know?" Virgil murmured, words slurred and filled with much more meaning than expected, "You're important to us. You help us every day just by being around, you don't need to do anything more than that."

Virgil could feel the way Roman froze underneath him, taking a slow, deliberate breath and letting it out almost silently. "I'll try to remember that."

There was clear affection in his words, gratitude and a sense of peace he hadn't had moments before. Virgil let himself smile. 

"Good," he hummed, snuggling in even closer to his boyfriend before shutting his eyes and letting sleep overtake him.

————————————-

"Look, all I'm saying is that this is a terrible idea."

Virgil spun around on his heel, pacing back the other way towards the kitchen, before spinning around again. 

He could hear Logan sigh and Virgil ignored the uncomfortable feeling that shot through his chest at the prospect of having annoyed his boyfriends. He knew they'd get sick of his constant worrying someday, but that didn't mean he was at all prepared for it to happen.

"It's far too late to back out now, Virgil," Logan commented, flipping through Thomas' vacation itinerary for the third time that evening, "and I can promise you, everything is going to be perfectly fine."

"You can't promise me that, though. You don't know what could happen; you can't see the future! What if Thomas gets drugged? Or kidnapped?!" Virgil's eyes were wide as he spun to face his boyfriends. "Does anyone remember what to do if you get locked in the boot of a car?!"

Patton laughed nervously as Virgil went back to his pacing, fidgeting with the edges of his cat hoodie and offering his boyfriend a smile—wobbly, unsure, he wants to break up, they all hate you. "Now, kiddo, I'm sure none of those things will happen, it's just a trip!"

"But you can't be sure!" Virgil yelled, throwing his hands up to tug at his hair.

He wished his thoughts would shut up for once in his life but, of course, he could never be granted such mercy. He was Anxiety—a plague, a terror, a dark side—and that was all he was ever going to be. He was never going to get any better and they were going to realise and hate him just as much as they had before and he was going to be all alone the way he deserved to be. They were too good for him, he should just break up with them right now so they didn't have to-

"Come nap with us."

Virgil froze mid-step, eyes filling with tears almost involuntarily as he glanced over at Roman. He was curled up on the couch next to the others, his expression kind and soft and Virgil wanted to cry but he felt like he wasn't allowed to.

"What?"

Roman rose up from the couch, making his way around the coffee table to stand in front of him. "Come nap with us, sweetheart. We want you here, exactly as you are."

Suddenly, Virgil didn't seem to have much of a choice on whether he was going to cry or not.

He felt his legs give out beneath him as he fell to the ground, Roman barely managing to surge forward and catch him before he crumpled into a sobbing heap on the floor. He gripped tightly at his boyfriend, tugging him in as close as he could possibly get, face pressed into Roman's shoulder and wetting his shirt with his tears.

There was heat against his back and sides—Logan and Patton having stumbled their way off the couch to comfort him—a hand in his hair, one rubbing against his back, kisses against his skin. It was overwhelming but it was so perfect. Every action was filled with so much warmth and affection and Virgil never wanted it to end, wanted to stay pressed between his boyfriends' bodies and drowning in their love for as long as he continued to live.

It simultaneously felt like eons and only a few seconds before they all drew back, prompting an embarrassing whine to leave Virgil's mouth without his permission. Patton shushed him, giving quick kisses to the now near-dried tear tracks on his face.

"It's alright, we're just going to move, love," Virgil heard Logan whisper from behind him, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck that made Virgil shiver.

Patton grasped his hands, pulling him up and over to a mountain of pillows and blankets Virgil was almost certain hadn't been there before, as the other two trailed after them. Virgil smiled as Patton pulled the two of them down into the pile, wrapping him up tightly in his arms and giving a sort of satisfied hum.

"No fair! I wanted to cuddle the emo nightmare!"

Virgil glanced up to see Roman standing above the two of them, hands on his hips and pouting. Logan was standing beside him, wearing an expression not too dissimilar from his, "I-can't-believe-I'm-in-love-with-this-idiot" look, if only a bit softer.

Patton's arms tightened around Virgil as he pressed a kiss to his cheek, making Virgil blush. "Nope! You had your turn, Ro, he's mine now."

"I believe I haven't had a proper chance to cuddle with Virgil either, Patton," Logan interjected, a ghost of a smile on his face, "What determined that you should be the one to go first?"

Virgil laughed—the happiness bubbling up inside him begging to be heard and interrupting whatever Patton had been about to reply. "How about you both just come down here and I'll cuddle all of you, sound good?"

There were certainly no complaints from his boyfriends, Roman throwing himself down onto the pillows on Virgil's other side, bouncing slightly as he landed and wrapping his arms as much around him as he could with Patton still holding on.

Logan, rather than simply flinging himself onto the others the way Roman had, crawled his way over. He wormed himself into Patton and Virgil's embrace until he had successfully managed to get Virgil to pull him against his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Patton looked mildly put out by this intrusion, but was quickly pacified by Logan's lips against his, firm but loving as he pulled Patton closer towards the two of them.

"Go to sleep now, my dear," Roman whispered, tangling his fingers into Virgil's hair. He could feel the arm Roman lay on top of him moving slightly, his fingertips swirling patterns into the skin on Logan's hip.

The warmth was intense—Virgil could feel contact from his boyfriends on almost every part of his body—but rather than feeling crushing, it felt caring. Each brush of hands against his skin and every word exhaled into the air around them adding to the sensation of love that Virgil just couldn't shake. 

One by one the movements slowed to a stop, breathing steadying out as each of them lost their grip on consciousness. Virgil was the last to go, relaxing with a sigh as he let his eyes flutter closed. After all, he was safe here, safer than he had ever felt before.

Snuggled between each of his boyfriends, Virgil had never slept so well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tag list: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @mctaetae613 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @sanders-and-sides @spirits-in-my-thoughts @hhhhhhhhhhfjaskfsagfhasfgdsakfsa @autistic-virgil @happysingingturtles @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @poisonedapples (plus, @dr-gloom you wanted to be tagged!)

[thefamily]

“Who did this to you.” Interlude

This was inspired by this this! Thank you @whumpster-dumpster for letting me use it.

https://whumpster-dumpster.tumblr.com/post/180738459087/character-a-tilting-character-bs-chin-up-to-get-a

Jack’s P.O.V.

        I was stumbling through the forest, my vision slightly blurry, my cheek still ringing and my body hurting, whether it was from the emptiness or the fall down the stairs. I don’t know probably both to be honest. I wander aimlessly through the forest not focusing on anything, wanting nothing more than to be with Liru right now. I can feel myself getting dizzier the more I walked, until I come across a clearing with a bunch of trees that had all fallen over outward from the center of them. But I don’t have to think about that. I fall to my knee’s coughing like mad and almost instantly I can see splotches of blood on the grass.

        ‘Oh. That's not good.’

        Once I stop coughing, there is a small stain of blood in the grass. I don’t even acknowledge it as I pull myself up onto a fallen tree and sit on it. I hug myself, leaning over letting blood drip from my mouth, trying not to breathe it in. I choke back a sob, not wanting to make the pain worse as I think about what Mrs. Blanchfield did. I can’t stop the feeling of the hand hitting across my face, the force from it was enough to knock me down the stairs. Without even thinking, I ran out the door as fast I could ignoring the pain shooting through my entire body.

        I feel her presence before I see her and my heart begins to pound, ‘Nonononono please don’t let her see me like this.’

        “Jack?”

        ‘Shit.’ I slowly look up at her and I feel my heart flutter ever so slightly when I see her face, which has a look of confusion written all over it before it quickly changes to one of surprise then fury before falling emotionless. I quickly look back down at the ground as I hear the dead grass crunching beneath her bare feet as she stops right in front of me.

        “Jack,” I flinch slightly curling in on myself a bit. “look at me.” Her tone leaves no room for argument. I take a deep shaking breath, wincing in pain as I do, wiping the blood from my mouth away, before I look up at her. She immediately puts a knuckle under my chin tilting my head up more as she examines it and I can feel blood begin to drip down my chin again as she does. Her eyes flick down to the blood and she gently wipes away the blood before bringing it up to her face, saying nothing as she examines it.

        After a second or two, I feel my heart skip a nervous beat as she looks me dead in the eyes. Her voice is quiet and tense, her anger barely restrained as clouds begin to circle overhead.

        “W͟h̕o̢ did̢ th̡is̶ tò ͞you̡?”

        I swallow nervously, not sure if I should tell her, eyeing the blade of her scythe that strapped to her back, despite the very being of my soul screaming at me to tell her, but the thing in my head was screeching at me not to.

        “Jąck.̛”

        “Mrs. Blanchfield.” The words tumble out of before I can even process the tone in her voice, a promise of pain and hellfire.

        “And who exactly is this… w̛oman?” My heart speeds up a bit as she spits out the word like it was poison. I swallow nervously wincing a bit, trying not to gag as the coppery blood runs down my throat.

        “S-She’s the o-orphanage caret-taker.” I flinch slightly at a low growl that seems to shake the world around us. Before I could begin to look around it she grabbed my hand, pulled me up and began pulling me away from the field. At her touch I can feel just how chaotic her mind is, the fury that's causing it reminding much of the time Henrik became enraged.

        “W-Where are we going?” I quietly curse myself for stuttering as she continues to pull me along, although I’m more following her than anything.

        “Home, I’m not letting you go back to those monsters.” Her words almost immediately calm me down.

        “Oh, okay.” The thought of being around her everyday, never having to go back to that hellhole, it brought a comfort I haven’t felt since before Henrik left. Before his promise rang through my head causing panic to grip my very being.

        “WAIT!”

Liru’s P.O.V.

        I stopped in my tracks at his shout, his mind cold from whose ever voice that rang through it. I feel myself grow cold at the thought of him wanting to go back.

        ‘No. Please no, it’s not safe, please.’

        “I-I have to go back.” His voice is small and quiet as he speaks, and I can feel my shoulders drop as my stomach falls. ‘No…’

        “Jack…” My voice cracks as I whisper, not wanting to turn to him.

        “Please Liru, I need to go back.” His voice desperate as I forced myself to look at him. He was swaying in his spot slightly, his free arm wrapped tightly around his stomach, hand gripping his now blood stained shirt, bruises beginning to form already, especially the still welted hand print of the side of his face. I can feel a primal anger rise in me at the sight of it wanting nothing more than to tear apart the women responsible for it.

        “After what that monster did to you?” My voice is shaking with barely contained rage as I look him in the eyes, one of them bloodshot. He flinches at the sound of anger and it quickly melts away into sadness and ignored rejection.

        “You’re covered in bruises and blood, Jack. You’re not safe there.” I can’t keep the begging from my voice, it cracking like a glass jar thrown against a rock.

        “You look like you were thrown down the stairs!” I’m fighting back tears now, the desperation growing with every breath.

        “I-I’m fine, I just fell when I was leaving.” He looks me dead in the eye, pleading look never disappearing.

        “Please… I need to go back.” His are filled with unshed tears and I can feel my resolve break. I grab his hand gently pulling him to me as I step closer to him. He stumbles a little as he does and he has a confused and almost hopeful look that I can’t look at. Looking at the ground, I use my other hand to reach up and cup the back of his head, my entire body slouched in defeat and melancholy.

        “Liru?” He asks, confusion and worry clear in his voice. I don’t reply whispering,

        “Sopor.” Under my breath. And just like that, he falls limp against me as he sleeps. I quickly wrap my arms under his as I gently as I can, sliding down to my knees as I lay him against the grass. As I lay him against the grass the trees around us open their eyes, revealing glowing white sap as the faint smell of discarded flesh lingers in the air. They don’t say anything but I know they’re watching us.

        I run a hand of Jack, muttering a diagnostic spell under my breath as I do. It takes every ounce of control I have not to lose my temper right then and there. I look at his face and even asleep he looks like he’s in pain. I put a hand on his cheek rubbing my mark gently before beginning to sing.

“Flower gleam and glow.”

        I can’t heal him too much. I don’t want him to get suspicious. I can’t lose him too.

“Let your power shine.”

        I feel relief floods me as I watch as pieces of the cosmos flow through him, the collage of colors making him look like a young god as the forest floor beneath him begins to grow at a rapid pace, grass and flowers growing up and lightly wrapping around him.

“Make the clock reverse.”

        The collectors around us are creaking, speaking to each other curiosity radiating from them as they stare at the two of us, and I understand why. With Jack laid on the grass with me hunched over him with a hand on his cheek healing him.

“Bring back what was mine.”

        I force myself to not continue but thankfully he’s healed enough where he’s only kinda bruised and no longer bleeding internally. How he managed to get all the way out here without dying is beyond me. It’s at least a six hour walk but… I didn’t sense him until he was in the field… I quickly shake any of those thoughts away. 

        ‘I can deal with it later. Right now I need to take him back.’ I go to pick him up before I freeze, realizing it’s not a good idea for me not to take him. If I went to that village right now I’d burn it to the ground. I look back at Jack knowing I only have one choice for help right now. I take deep breath before shouting,

        “Σπαθί!!!” Within seconds the shadow creature is next to me on all fours.

        “Saluton, saluton, saluton. Ho! Kio estas tio?” The creature, roughly the size of a human man crawling on all fours with both arms and legs bent more like a horse’s than a humans, is staring down at both Jack and I.

        “Ĉu ĉi tio estas la malgranda homo, kiu ŝtelis la koron de la malgranda reĝino?” It leans over to sniff him but I quickly smack him on his side.

        “Cut that out I need help.” 

        “Ho?” Now I definitely have it’s attention.

        “Yes. I need help I know, weird right?” Sarcasm is dripping from my voice before I take a deep breath.

        “Look, I just need help getting him back to the village. And if I go there now, I’m going to l͟ęv̕el ̧it.” I wince a little at the way my voice changes, loathing it when it does that. It’s too much like a void demon’s. 

        “Tiam faru ĝin.” The malicious joy radiating from it nearly makes me cave to satisfy my own blood lust.

        “I can’t. Not yet. Not until he finally gives that place up.” It gives off the same energy of someone rolling its eyes before it looks down at Jack.

        “Can you take him back?” It’s head snaps to me, shock over taking it for a second before it throws its head back, letting out a blood curdling laugh, sounding more like a dying hell-hound than anything. When it finally stops I can hear what I assume is it’s mouth form into a toothy grin before stretching one arm out straight and it’s arm lets out a sick cracking sound as it’s ‘bones’ flipping around. I cringe at the sound and it scoops up Jack in it’s arm cradling him to it’s chest.

        “Kaj tiel la eta reĝo iras hejmen.”

        “It’s not his home. He’s made that very clear.” My voice is nothing more than a whisper as I push myself up, the grass curling around my fingers before I pull them away, standing up.

        “For mi iras.” And just like that they were gone. Once they were gone the Collectors began to talk amongst themselves again. I hadn’t even realized they stopped. I look around one last time before closing my eyes and focusing on my home?

        ‘Is it home without him?’

        When I open my eyes again, I’m thankfully in my room but also completely drained of any energy I might have had left after today. I flop on my bed, too exhausted to keep everything hidden, my wings sprawling out around me on the round bed, my tail joining them as it curls around me, making a small rattling sound as it moves. I’m laying face down as my horns come out weighing down my head a little, and finally my scales and eyes change the gold and red scales uncomfortable under the clothes I’m too tired to remove.

        I’m so close to dozing off when the door is lightly pushed open. Moving my head so I can look to see what entered my room, I’m almost immediately greeted by Izzy hopping onto the bed, a squeaky meow leaving her as she tries to move past my wings without stepping on them. I drag them out of the way in which she goes over to my throat and paws at the part around my neck until it comes undone and she slides underneath it on my back, knocking the scythe to the floor.

        I laugh lightly, closing my eyes again and yawning, muttering under my breath,

        “Please be okay Jack.” Not noticing Riptide’s head poking through the door as Izzy purrs me to sleep.

Yes Riptide ate her hand. Also no judging for the song I had no better idea's.

Tag List:

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@thegamerbook Thank you for beta reading the first few pages!

Translations:

Saluton, saluton, saluton. Ho! Kio estas tio?? = Hello, hello hello. Oh! What's this?

Ĉu ĉi tio estas la malgranda homo, kiu ŝtelis la koron de la malgranda reĝino. = Is this the little human that's stolen the little queen's heart?

Tiam faru ĝin. = Then do it.

Kaj tiel la eta reĝo iras hejmen. = And so the little king goes home.

For mi iras. = Off I go.

Spade is Σπαθί