#This was fun to write!

[darkestspring]

A fic with platonic yandere big brother King Aegon who gets revenge on Aemond for his beloved little sister reader. Aemond and reader are married but he is unfaithful to the reader. May it be with the brothel madam, Alys, or whoever it doesn’t matter. When Aegon finds out he does whatever in his power to give them hell and publicly humiliates them because no one dishonors his sweet little sister especially their seeming righteous brother.

you were the only one he really loved, the only one of his siblings that he cared for genuinely. You were his beloved sister, he always taunted aemond and ignored helaena, daeron was barely even a thought to him but you? precious, lovely, kind you.

You were his beloved sister, he would rather cut out his own heart than to let you face humiliation, that's why he caused such fuss when it was announced that you were to wed to aemond.

Aegon's anger was unprecedented, Alicent almost wanted to accuse him of being in love with you but she saw him with you. You smiling brightly up at him as you showed him the stitching of sunfyre that you had done for him and she saw his look of pride as he ruffled your hair. It wasn't romantic love, no. He loved you as a sister but it terrified her.

He had to be restrained by three guards and Ser Criston when he found out that that Aemond was going to wed his precious, lovely sister.

"I'll kill you. If you hurt my sister, I'll kill you." Aegon hissed at the stunned Aemond, dagger still in hand.

It was the first time they'd seen him like that and he only released the dagger when you came running, rushing towards him.

Aegon's murderous look melted into one of concern as he took notice of you.

No one had forgotten how eaily his anger seemed to melt away at the sight of you, that's why you were the first one summoned when Aegon had an angry outburst.

"How long have you known?" Aegon sat beside you as you took a sip of the tea your maid had brought you.

You automatically knew what he was talking about, just as much as you knew that he heard heard from the spies he had watching you at all times.

"The entire time." You responded quietly, still not looking up at him. There was no love lost between you and Aemond. You knew he didn't love you and though you tried, you couldn't love him. How could love be born in such a hostile environment? It was impossible.

You didn't care enough to react to the news that he repeatedly saw the same brothel worker that he had been forced to see years ago, Aegon's attempt to keep Aemond from falling in love with you, unknown to you.

It had worked, the only thing Aegon regretted was the pain it caused you, the shame it brought upon you.

Aegon had said years ago that he'd kill Aemond if he hurt you, it was a promise that he would keep.

"Are you hurt, sister?" His voice was soft as he reached across and grabbed your hand softly in his.

Tears slid down your cheeks at his comforting tone and filled up your teacup as sobs slipped from your throat. You couldn't hold in your own sorrow at hearing your eldest brother's concern.

"I... I tried so hard to love Aemond but it all ended like this. What am I doing wrong?" You sobbed in sorrow, melting in Aegon as he hugged you close to his chest, comforting you.

That damned Aemond, killing him wasn't enough.

You had only just fallen asleep, Aegon took you back to your bed and settled to write a letter, having it be delivered to dragonstone in secret.

'There's a plan to usurp you, if you break my sister's marriage to Aemond and marry her to Jace, I'll bend the knee to you, I'll tell you about everything.'

Rhaenyra gazed down at the letter with cool eyes.

"Bring me parchment to write on, I must send a letter to my brother in response to his request."

she was a kind sister after all.

[professionallyyappinabtangst]

Ain't Sayin'

TW - Alcohol, references of Past violence, AN - I Originally was gonna do the cutest Sam picks up Asher at the Bar. But this seemed more fun! WC - 1314 Unempowered College AU This was requested by @professionallyyappin

Sam wasn’t the type of guy to put his nose where it didn’t belong. But he couldn’t stand people abandoning their partners. Or whoever they were going out with. Anything can happen, and it may as well be the last time you see them. So when his friend Asher's date stepped away to use the bathroom. 

He didn’t think much of it, but it was already past the 45-minute mark. Yeah if he needed to take a shit sure. But Sam didn’t trust it. Even if he wasn’t sitting with 2 of them anymore, he could see the look in Asher’s eyes as the time ticked away. But he couldn’t just go over there, he promised he wouldn’t get involved. 

But he couldn’t help but stare at the ticking clock. Every minute he was wasting in that bathroom was a minute he couldn’t spend with the guy he came with. The same guy who spent hours trying to convince him it’d be a great idea to go out. The same guy who went through Milo’s hounding to pick out a nice outfit. 

And now he was sitting at the bar alone. Swirling his drink, waiting for his sad excuse of a man to come back. He looked back at his whiskey; the shot glass was still full. If not a little more now thanks to the melted ice. 

He watched as the clock struck 12:50. He has been in the bathroom for 50 minutes. 50 fucking minutes. You know what? 

Fuck This. 

Downing his watered-down whiskey, he wasn’t going to get involved but he sure hell ain’t letting his friend get treated like this. Stay in the bathroom, Asher wanted to have a fun night. Whether that's with or without him, can be decided later. His drink burned as it went down. 

A little liquid courage does wonders for all parties involved after all. 

—

Asher looked at the cup, all he wanted to do was hang out. Was that so fucking hard to ask for? He hadn’t even touched his beer, he didn’t even like beer. Mack brought it for himself realized it wasn’t what he wanted and decided to give it to Ash. like he was a damn garbage disposal. 

And then he disappeared to quote on quote wash his hands. For fifty minutes? He didn’t believe it. Whatever he was doing, he was taking forever. He should have just listened to Sam- when he said it wasn’t gonna be a good idea. But when has he ever listened to the medical major? No matter how helpful his advice would be. Asher looked at the cup, it was discolored now. The lime that was on the side, was now floating in the drink, and the lime seeds were in the bottom of the glass. 

As if the drink didn’t look unappetizing enough. Now it was a discolored mess- did he mention it smelt terrible? This night was just going bad. And Mack leaving him wasn’t making it better. He was excited about this. He had been waiting all week for this. Even got Sam to promise not to cause problems again. 

On the other side of the bar and a certain brown-eyed cowboy. Was glaring hard at that bathroom door. It had been an hour. Sixty fucking minutes and god knows how many seconds. Since he stepped into that mother-loving bathroom. Downing his second shot of whiskey, shivering at the burn. 

Fine. don’t come back, Sam will give Ash the fun time he wanted to have. The fun time he deserved.  

He made his way over, hoping the door opened so he could flip him off. 

‘’ this seat taken? ‘’ Sam pointed to Mack's former sit 

‘’ Technically Yes. ‘’ 

‘’ Not at all? Wonderful! ‘’ Sam took the seat- with the biggest grin on his face. 

‘’Mack gonna want his seat back ‘’ Asher looked at his roommate, he was doing this on purpose. 

‘’ He can find another seat. In fact.. ‘’ Sam pointed at a trash can. ‘’ That's a better seat for him No? ‘’  Sam finished with a smile that could rival that of the Grinch

‘’ Sam. ‘’ 

‘’ You know when Milo said your outfit was gonna be good. I didn’t think It’d be this good. ‘’ 

‘’ Sam.  ‘’ Ash could feel his eye twitch. 

‘’ You want an actual drink? That look shit looks nasty- ‘’ 

‘’ SAM. ‘’ Asher raised his voice louder than he wanted. But the music was loud enough to protect the others around them. 

‘’ you promised you wouldn’t do this. ‘’ Asher looked down at his drink. 

‘’ I promised I wouldn’t punch em in the face again. ‘’ Sam shot a sign at the bartender signaling for another drink.  ‘’ I don’t know why you invited me you know how I feel about em ‘’ 

As the drink slid across the counter, Asher intercepted it downing it in a gulp. He needed that, and Sam owed him that. 

‘’ I  wanted you two to get along ‘’ Asher said as he placed the shot glass down. 

‘’ Never gonna happen ‘’ Sam said glancing towards the bathroom door. ‘’ you know how I feel about stuff like this. ‘’ he turned his eyes back to Asher. 

Asher sighed he should have expected this. Hell, he didn’t blame him he wanted to tell him off for giving him this beer. 

‘’ you enjoyed the drink? ‘’

‘’ yeah. What do you want Samuel? ‘’ Asher turned to look him in the eye. 

‘’ you wanted to have fun.. Right? ‘’ Sam smiled. ‘’ And I wanna have some fun and when you put two and two together. You get best friends ‘’ he chuckled as he jabbed at Ash. 

‘’ Fun? Mister, I collect different color flannels as a hobby. ‘’ as much as Ash wanted to hide the small smile on his face. He was bad at doing so- 

‘’ My flannel collection doesn’t concern that of you Milo or that other little shit. ‘’ Sam sneered signalling for another drink. 

‘’ Might wanna slow down on the alcohol gramps ‘’ Asher teased as the glass slid across the countertop again. 

‘’ you realized you were born in the nineties too right? ‘’ Sam snapped back downing the burning liquor. Asher couldn’t help but chuckle, guess the gramps couldn’t handle the heat. 

‘’ I see you laughin' over there. ‘’ 

‘’ if you didn’t I’d think you’re losing your sight faster than you thought. ‘’ 

‘’ you shit. ‘’ Sam couldn’t help but break into a smile, theirs that beautiful smile again. 

‘’I think im going to wait for Mack to get back so we can Uber out together. ‘’ 

And with that sentence, his smile was gone. Sam didn’t like that. 

‘’ or we could do what we came here to do. ‘’ He wanted to get one dance in with him. Something that ass wouldn’t grant him. 

‘’ which is? ‘’ 

‘’ Dance, party, and have fun you only live once. ‘’ Sam tried to reason. ‘’ Listen if you wanna go then go. But I ain’t sayin let him ruin the entire night. He finished. 

‘’ let me guess the NiGhT iS StIlL YoUnG ‘’ Asher said mocking Sam. 

‘’ I knew you’d see it my way! ‘’ Sam couldn’t help but chuckle.  ‘’ I Ain’t Sayin leave him here.. Though it’s not a bad idea.. I just want you to have some fun tonight. ‘’  Sam looked at Ash. he was thinking, he watched him turn to look at the bathroom door before turning back to Sam. 

‘’Let's see if you’re as good on the floor as you are with words cowboy ‘’ Asher said smirking. 

‘’ that a challenge ‘’ 

‘’ depends.. You up for it? ‘’ Asher sled off the barstool waiting for Sam to join him. 

‘’ Bet. ‘’ 

Samuel Collins has been in love with his best friend for the past 2 years. And one day he will tell him. For now, seeing him smile and laugh with him was good enough for him. However, Samuel doesn’t realize Asher feels the same. 

Or Asher was planning on ending things with Mack that night. For now, dancing and laughing made up for this shitty night.

~~~~

Taglist @porters-fangs @sunsickcrab @achios @dawnofiight

[voidandabyssal]

I almost forgot you actually take requests lol

How would Hound and Pyre, as well as Mutt and Black, react to meeting someone who likes to touch people? Like patting your arm/shoulder when making a joke or giving hugs to show their appreciation. And would their reaction change if the skellies were in a relationship with this person?

Hound (HF Sans):

He’s sensitive around strangers

And by sensitive I mean hyper aware and aggressive

If a complete stranger were to come up and touch him he’d defiantly glare down at him.

Which is pretty terrifying considering he’s like 6’5 and has a sharp metal jaw. If it’s a good day, he might just shove you off and growl, if it’s a bad day for him then he’s likely to lash out

Which again you don’t really want considering he usually wields a giant friggin axe, even on the surface

Buuuuttttt if you’re his s/o or a highly trusted friend, he’s not gonna be so mean

Na, he might jump or growl a little, especially if you caught him off guard, but that’s just instinct. Hound doesn’t really mean it.

if he really likes you, you’ll get a tight hug back; and he’s not putting you down

Hounds an affectionate guy once you get to know him.

Speaking’s hard for hound so it can often be the only way to express himself

Pyre (HF papyrus)

Unlike hound, pyre has much more self control, in that he won’t flip you into a headlock the minute you touch him

But he’s definitely going to be disgruntled

If you’re a stranger prepare for your arm to be twisted very painfully as he loudly seethes about how disgusting humans are and how impolite they can be

Internally, pyres a little freaked out. The only person that he’s allowed to touch him in a long time is Hound

But if you’re in a relationship with him??

Okay he’ll still be a little disgruntled but he won’t shove you off,

Maybe still scold you, especially if you’re in public

Black (SF red sans):

Isn’t a fan of touch,

In the underground such casual touches either meant you were quite close or the more touchy person held more power and respect than the other

So he’s gonna see it as a slight

He’ll grab at your hand before it can even connect with his shoulder. Squeezing tightly enough to make you wince in pain

If your his partner then he’s a lot nicer lol

Black doesn’t like to say it out loud, but he does love physical touch.

He leans into your touch, just ever so slightly

If you tease him, poor black will be blushing so hard

Mutt (SF red papyrus):

He’s gonna be the one doing casual touches,

Even if your a stranger, and this is happening in the underground. Hell yeah he’ll wrap his arm around your shoulder or lean up against you

There’s not really a lot you can say or do to stop him. Considering he’s got Black for a brother and he’s pretty strong himself

He’d probably find it amusing if a complete stranger was so causal with him. It’s his job to make people uncomfortable!!!

If you’re in a relationship with him, he is eating that touch up!!

Seriously loves it, if you’re not careful he’ll end up pulling you into his lap for some nap cuddles

And then you’re stuck there until either he wakes up or black finally drags you off him

[doug-rattmann-appreciation-club]

Exes

putting chell into situations again

[mmmichyyy]

michelle <3 “You’re seriously like a man-child.” please, if the spirit moves you.

#8: "you're seriously like a man-child."

"how many more do i need to sign?"

a heavy cardboard box is dropped on the table, right beside the stacks of books he spent the past hour signing.

"a hundred more and you can take a break."

"a hundred?!" mickey exclaims. "how many people are even coming today? and why the fuck do people need my signature anyway?

"the coordinator said over two hundred people signed up for the event," sandy says, not looking up from her phone. "surprise - people actually like your book and they want to meet you."

"you know i hate small talk," mickey grumbles, massaging his cramping wrist. "if i knew this was part of the book tour, i would've never agreed to it."

sandy rolls her eyes. "god, you're seriously like a man-child. does cranky baby need a nap? a juice-box? a smoke?"

mickey throws a sharpie at sandy, which she dodges with a laugh. "get me a snickers bar and i'll contemplate not firing you."

"good luck finding someone who will put up with your ass," sandy snorts.

"ahem."

mickey looks up to ian, the tall redhead bookstore owner standing by the door, looking sheepish and scratching his head.

"just checking in. everything okay in here? do you need anything before the event mr. milkovich?"

"actually," sandy starts, "he'd love a pacifier for his afternoon nap–"

"fuck off," mickey cuts his cousin off, ignoring her snickering in the background. "you got any smokes, red?"

ian pats around his jeans pocket and pulls out a crumpled pack of marlboros. "i was just about to go for a smoke break, actually."

mickey pushes up from his chair and grabs the pack from ian's hand. "let's fucking go, then."

sandy watches in amusement as mickey struts out of the room with a smirk on his face, and she catches the way ian not-so-subtly checks out her cousin's backside before hurrying after him.

guess mickey found someone to put up with his ass. literally.

[stellari-s]

☀️

request; yes, by anonymous. requests open!

wc; 1 015.

tags; morningstar! ithaqua, gn! survivor! reader, yandere vibes! ithaqua, canon-typical violence, obsessive and unhealthy behavior, toxic dynamic, it's morningstar y'all he may be pretty but he ain't a good person, reader also isn't the most stable, i wrote this in the span of 2 ✈️ flights.

summary; only he can destroy the sun in your heart. nobody else but him. and he wouldn't have it any other way.

this is an unspoken contract, written in spilt blood.

a contract between you and him, both entrapped within the large, spiky gates that dares and threatens the world to find out just what is happening beyond.

it is a secret, known to none but you two.

oletus manor has over time forged you into someone you can no longer recognize. looking in the mirror is impossible without witnessing the empty shell standing before you, staring back at your dull eyes. even now you somehow have a distinct, sharp awareness that you had stepped through these gates with a wish in mind, but you have long forgotten what it was.

constant “games” twist your mind’s perceptions and play with your innermost fears and desires, and you have probably been spiked with some drug before, since sometimes your memories either feel overwhelmingly vivid enough to leave tingles on your skin for days or you have no recollection whatsoever. at times, your stomach feels like maggots are chewing inside - perhaps it’s an aftereffect.

over and over and over.

whenever someone gets injured, you don’t have the energy to care. at some point, the cuts and wounds that you originally noticed are no longer tended for.

your body, fully used to the pain, has grown completely numb.

you know that, and while fear slowly seeps into your heart upon that realization, you can’t bring yourself to care at this point.

everything is the same… until you find yourself before a face you don’t recognize. his silver braided hair contrasts with his black attire and an orangish red cape, and his axe is large, but he doesn’t seem to have trouble wielding it.

what stands out to you the most though is his mask. it only covers the upper half of his face, so you can see a wide smile that almost goes ear to ear, but his eyes are completely hidden by that black crown-like mask with a single faced sun in the center where his forehead is. chains surround it; it would surely give any normal person shivers down their spine.

everything about this person screams danger.

but you had twisted your ankle trying to turn on your heel and slam the pallet on him, so now you are rendered unable to move, sitting on the ground while holding your ankle and staring blankly up at that ominous mask.

“you,” he starts, his voice laced with a sweet poison that makes your palms sweat and your heart beat right out of your chest, “just tried to stun me, didn’t you?” he breaks the pallet like crushing a bug with those sharp stilts. “yet you couldn’t do it. how pathetic.”

even while calling you pathetic, he can’t conceal a sadistic giggle from escaping his lips.

“anyone would do the same,” you reply flatly, narrowing your eyes.

“really now? then care to tell me why everyone else trembles like a leaf in front of me? but whatever.” he lifts his axe, and you widen your eyes, half in fear and half in awe at his graceful motion and the way his axe gleams beneath the moonlight. “we can change that.”

you can’t avoid the blow. the blade of the axe digs into your skin near your shoulder. you feel the warmth of your own blood spilling from the wound, and that familiar dullness spreads around that area.

it’s a numbing type of pain. it’s not enough.

just then, an idea pops into your mind. it’s a crazy idea - certainly not one a normal person would even dream to ideate. but for days, perhaps months or years, any sense of normalcy has been robbed from you.

you grab the handle of the blade and push it in deeper. gradually, with more blood staining your clothes, the dull ache grows more sharp.

it is a more genuine, raw pain - a sensation you haven’t felt in such a long time. as strange as it sounds, it makes you feel alive for the first time in who knows how long.

you’re honestly relieved to know you still have some semblance of humanity left in you, but on the other hand, the axe-wielding hunter seems puzzled. that maniacal smile is replaced with a slight frown, from which you can sense confused curiosity.

“deeper,” you say, “aren’t you going to make me tremble before you ‘like a leaf’? if so, then push it in deeper.”

at first, the hunter seems to be contemplating something, completely still as if he is a statue. then his lips stretch into a grin. he complies with your request, digging his axe in until you wince and tears start to sting your eyes before he withdraws it.

through your tear-blurred vision, you can make out the hunter’s sick glee.

if it’s him… if he has that smile on his face, then i don’t mind.

your head starts to spin as you try to stand while putting most of your weight on the ankle that’s not twisted. the hunter takes hold of one of your shoulders with one hand and cups your cheek with the other, his claws digging into your skin in both places. he applies pressure to the wound though to help a little with the bleeding.

now that you can see him a lot closer, he looks very much like a normal boy. not really non-human in any way. you imagine under that mask of his is just a normal face you would be able to see down the street.

it is clear from your interactions, though, that he’s got one too many screws loose.

“let me break you,” he says, “let me destroy the sun in your heart, and then i’ll give you a new world.” his voice is gentle but deceptive, holding the poisonous allure of a demon.

you know that, but you are still drawn in hopelessly. “it can only be you,” you reply in between uneven breaths, “nobody else - only you.”

the hunter’s grin widens, and he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“i have a feeling we’ll get along very well.”

[fraudulent-cheese]

how would you see courtzzy getting together? in canon or in any type of au

Ooooh that's a really good question!!! I have had thoughts about it before but they haven't been very... precise, i guess?

The one that's the easiest to go to is the Basic Straining/TDI rewrite where Courtney gets with Izzy in Island instead of Duncan. Change the circonstances a little and it would work pretty well i'd say!

Another idea is, well, an AU concept i and others have thrown out before, which is the Fake Dating AU! Courtney needs a fake date for one reason or another, and goes to Izzy because hey! She'd probably accept without much argument! And then it slowly turns into real dating because they caught feelings :3

In general one dragging the other into their stuff is the main way i see them bonding so that's a common theme

The one way i've thought of them becoming a thing post canon is really specific and requires either specific friendships to happen OR some kind of external factor to push them together; Courtney suing the producers and Chris Mclean for litterally everything that happened on the show and her meeting back up with Izzy and actually forming a bond despite how different they are. Izzy noticing how much Courtney's pushing herself for this and finding a way for them both to goof off/blow off steam.

Either way, i think Courtney would be the one to do the confessing and go to the effort of making them official because honestly Izzy would probably just roll with whatever label the other wants to put on it as long as it's going well (Izzy cannot escape my greyaro beam no matter how hard she'd try) :p

[trensu]

wonder boy <3

AU TIME! Steve attains super strength. How? DOESN'T MATTER. So he gets super strength and Dustin takes it upon himself to train him up because he thinks Steve should use his shiny new power for Good. There's an evil entity coming to Hawkins by the name of Vecna and they need a defender.

Steve used to be a bully and he really wishes someone better had gotten this power because he doesn't think he deserves it. He supposes, though, that defending the town from Evil is a way to redeem himself. He reluctantly agrees to Dustin's proposal to train him even as he protests he's not superhero material. Despite his hesitation, Steve is actually pretty good at beating up the monsters this Vecna baddie sent ahead. With his super strength and years of athleticism, taking down the demogorgon, the demodogs, and the Mindflayer was a piece of cake.

--

Vecna's getting irritated, to say the least. He needs to find a way to get rid of this Steve character if he hopes to take over Hawkins. Obviously the blunt force approach isn't working. Vecna decides to switch tactics. He needs to be more subtle. Steve, apparently, is known for chasing after a pretty face. Vecna sends in his favorite servant, Eddie, who is a quick thinker and quite charming when he wants to be.

Eddie hates Vecna. Hates all the terror and pain he sows; hates his senseless cruelty. But he hasn't a choice, so off to Hawkins he goes to find this hero guy. He figures the best way to track him down is to lure him. He's always wanted to play damsel-in-distress and Vecna's recently created humanoid monster Billy is chomping at the bit to see some action.

Of course Billy is too new and too stupid to know what "acting" was, so he does not hold back when he grabs Eddie by the hair and snarls in his face. Eddie yelps and cusses a storm.

"Get your fucking hands off me, you stupid asshole."

Billy, stupid empty-headed Billy, stares at Eddie. His other hand curls around the side of Eddie's neck and yanks him close.

"Pretty," Billy growls. Eddie feels the bottom drop out of his stomach and begins to struggle in earnest. He had not planned for this turn of events. The hand Billy has in Eddie's hair tightens as his other trails down his neck to paw clumsily at whatever other part of Eddie he can reach.

"Hey! Dickhead!"

Billy turns around to see who shouted at him and gets hit with a well aimed stone right in the forehead. He drops Eddie as he staggers back with a grunt. Eddie lands roughly but scrambles away quickly enough as whoever threw the rock charges past him to tackle a dazed Billy to the ground.

Eddie gingerly picks himself off the ground, grimacing at the scrapes on his palms. The sound of fighting continues behind him so Eddie takes the time to tie back his hair. Assuming the guy fighting Billy is the hero Vecna sent him after, he wants to look presentable. For a given value of presentable, anyway. He aggravates his scrapes on accident when he scrubs his palms against his jeans out of nervous habit. He hisses.

"Are you okay?"

Eddie whirls around to see what must be the most beautiful man in the entire world. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern but it does nothing to diminish the warmth in his brown eyes. Damn Vecna and his schemes. He could've warned Eddie how gorgeous his target was.

"Fine. All fine," Eddie blurts out like an idiot.

"You're bleeding," Handsome Hero Guy says, reaching out to grab Eddie's hands. Eddie lets him hold his hands for just a moment before yanking them away and taking a skip back.

"Woah-ho, watch it there, wonder boy! Hands off the goods," Eddie smiles teasingly. "What, you see one guy get handsy and think I let all the boys have at me?"

Handsome Hero Guy's eyes widen, mouth (such a pretty mouth, too, fuck) dropping open in shock.

"N-no!" (Aww, he's blushing. Eddie's heart skips a beat.) "I wouldn't--It didn't look like you wanted that guy on you. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"My hero," Eddie flutters his lashes. The guy's answering smile is bashful. Eddie wants to eat him up.

"Wouldn't go that far," Handsome Hero Guy mumbles.

"I'll be the judge of that, wonder boy. Muscles like that? Showing up out of nowhere to protect my admittedly ragged virtue? That's definitely hero work."

"It really isn't that big a deal," he insists. "Anyone would've done the same."

"You'd be surprised," Eddie feels his smile turn slightly bitter at the edges before cranking up the charm again. "So do I get to know my hero's name or do I have to guess? Wonder boy seems to fit."

"Oh, uh, no. I'm Steve."

"Mmm, hi Stevie. I'm Kas."

--

Steve's in love. Kas is perfect. He's loud and wild and passionate. He can talk for hours about anything that interests him and yet still listen so intently whenever Steve speaks. His smile is always full of mischief and his big brown doe eyes make Steve weak in the knees when they focus on him alone.

"I think maybe you're rushing in to this, Steve," Robin tells him, a couple weeks after his fateful meeting with Kas. "I mean, what do you really know about the guy?"

"I know enough," Steve protests. "He loves metal music and, like, nerdy role playing games with dice. He can play guitar and he loves strawberry ice cream. And he has the best laugh." Steve can't quite smother a smitten sigh.

"Yeah, but where's he from? He's not local. Who are his friends? Nobody seems to know him!" Robin starts to pace the way she does whenever she's worrying over something. It makes Steve pause.

"Being new in town isn't a bad thing, Rob."

"No, but it's pretty sketchy timing, don't you think? We get all these monsters, half the town moves away because of it, and suddenly there's a new face in town? Someone who looks like he was tailor made for you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Now Steve's getting defensive. Robin's always been better at looking at the big picture but usually she trusts Steve's judgement when it comes to people.

"C'mon, Steve! The eyes? The hair? And he's, like, witty or smart or whatever. He couldn't be more your type if he tried!" Robin throws her hands up in frustration and Steve's had enough.

"I thought you'd be happy for me," Steve says flatly. "I finally found someone. After the whole thing with Nancy, I didn't think I ever would."

"I am! I am happy for you, Steve," Robin sighs. "I just don't want you to get hurt again."

"Kas wouldn't hurt me. He's a good guy, Robin. Trust me. He's the best."

Steve is grateful, later, that Robin loves him enough to not tell him 'I told you so.'

--

Eddie had been worried at first. Steve is amazing. 'Wonder boy' really does fit him because Steve is wonderful, and not just because of his super strong muscles and distractingly hairy chest. Steve loves his friends without reservation; he wears his feelings like a coat of many colors, out in the open and inviting everyone to admire them.

Eddie hasn't had friends a very long time. He had to leave them behind after he went to Vecna. He didn't want to risk them getting hurt because of him. And afterwards, it was easier to keep people at a distance. So he was worried about getting so close to Steve, wonderful Stevie.

But Steve was invulnerable! He was strong enough to take down monsters, sure, but he couldn't be wounded at all! Eddie is going to be able to report to Vecna, fully confident, because Vecna would never be able to hurt Steve anyway.

Eddie tosses up the misshapen d20 Steve had carved just for him and catches it. He continues to do this as he smirks at Vecna, just to rub it in Vecna's ugly slimy face. "So, you see? You're not gonna win this time, V-man. Steve has no weaknesses for you to exploit."

Vecna snags the d20 out of midair. It cracks and splinters in his grip, to Eddie's dismay.

"I think you'll find, Eddie," Vecna leans into his space, and in a mockingly sweet gesture trails his gross slick fingers along Eddie's cheek bone and tucks a loose curl behind Eddie's ear, "that he does. He very much does. And I'm going to use it to bring him to his knees."

With that, he yanks Eddie by the hair and binds him.

--

Steve's eyes linger on Kas--no, Eddie, who was a spy, who worked with Vecna all this time--where he lay prone and struggling against Vecna's disgusting vines holding him down. Eddie is trying to say something, but it's too muffled by the vines for Steve to understand. He can tell Eddie is scared, though. Scared and desperate.

Steve never considered himself a smart guy. He knew was always too willing to give his heart away. This guaranteed two things. One, he was not gonna be able to out-think a way out of Vecna's plan. Two, there was no way he'd let the man he loved suffer. Regardless of what Eddie did or did not do, he didn't deserve whatever Vecna would do to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and turns to Vecna.

"If I do this, you promise to let him go?"

"Of course."

"Like, for real. He'll be free from you?"

"As I said."

"And he'll be safe? You promise he won't get hurt while I'm not able to protect him?"

"Eddie betrayed you, Steve. He used you and gave me everything I asked for. Why do you care if he gets hurt, after all that?"

Steve scowls. "You don't get it. Guys like you never do. And why do you care what I use my side of the bargain for? You're getting what you want."

"I am," Vecna says smugly.

"So we got a deal or what? I give up my powers and leave you alone for 24 hours; you free Eddie and promise he won't get hurt?"

"We have an accord." Vecna reaches out to shake his hand.

Steve screams in agony the minute their hands touch. It feels like every nerve ending in his body was set on fire. He falls to his knees, weakly tugging his hand but he isn't able to take it back until Vecna himself decides to let go.

Vecna disappears and Steve hears Eddie cry out his name before he passes out.

--

Steve is taking great satisfaction from beating Vecna's face in. Or he was until Vecna starts laughing.

"What's so funny, asshole?" Steve snarls. "You lost."

"Yes," Vecna coughs. "Aren't you curious as to why?"

"Because I fucking beat the shit out of you," Steve snaps as Vecna continues to laugh at him.

"It hasn't been 24 hours, Steve," Vecna grins, bloody. At Steve's perplexed expression, he adds, "I thought Eddie would've picked someone smarter."

Steve's blood turns to ice.

"Where's Eddie? What did you do to him?" Steve shakes Vecna.

"I didn't do anything to him. He was protecting your dear Robin. He's in my domain now. No human survives the Upside Down for long."

Steve hits him twice more for good measure, knocking the bastard out. Then, the moment Hop's got him locked down, Steve books it to the nearest portal before anyone could stop him.

--

Eddie wakes slowly in an unfamiliar bed with no idea how he got there. There's a hand gently running through his hair. Eddie blinks blearily at its owner.

"...Steve?" he rasps.

"Kas!" Steve responds. Eddie flinches as the lies he told come back to him. Steve must have seen it, because in a softer tone he says, "Eddie."

And god damn Steve made his name sound beautiful. He thought he'd never hear him say it, not when he was Kas, the spy, the fucking betrayer. He hurt Steve, and everyone Steve loved. Dustin, Nancy, Robin...wait.

Eddie immediately starts to struggle into a sitting position, but Steve keeps a firm hand pressed down on his chest. "Eddie, wait, what are you--"

"Robin," Eddie gasps out, desperate. He'd broken Steve's heart once already, and betrayed his trust. He couldn't bear it if Steve lost Robin, too, and Robin deserved so much better than whatever Vecna's monsters would do to her. "Robin...needs..."

"Shh, it's okay, Eddie. Robin is fine. You saved her, she's okay."

That didn't make sense. If he managed to save Robin then Eddie wouldn't be here at all. He'd be drained to a husk in the Upside Down. So what...? His confusion must have shown on his face because Steve's face went soft.

"I wouldn't leave you down there, Eddie," Steve says gently. Eddie felt a lump in his throat because he should have. Steve had every right to have left him there to rot.

"But I...why would you do that? After I...?" There's a burning in his eyes, and Eddie desperately blinks back tears.

"I know now, why you did it. I don't blame you. I mean, god, your uncle's all you got. You told me yourself."

"You know?" Eddie interrupts. "About the bargain with Vecna?"

"To save your uncle's life? Yeah. El pulled it out of Vecna after sealing his powers away. He tried to use it as a reason to keep his powers, but it turns out taking his powers away doesn't negate what he did to save your uncle."

"Oh," Eddie says in wonder. "If Vecna's defeated, then...I'm free?"

Steve smiles his lovely sunshine smile that makes Eddie melt every time. "Yeah, you're free. You don't have to do anything he says ever again."

Steve stops and fidgets awkwardly for a moment.

"What?" Eddie prods. Steve grimaces.

"I'm just sorry. Sorry that he made you...seduce me, or whatever. I'd never have--I touched you all the time! And kissed you! And you had to just...take it. Fuck, I'm still doing it now," Steve pulls his hands away and goes so far as to scoot farther away from the bed where Eddie lays. "Sorry. Sorry, I know you don't--I know it was fake."

Steve's voice gets wobbly at the end, and his eyes were kept firmly down in embarrassment. He sniffs and forces an awkward chuckle.

"I must've been such an easy mark for you, huh? Fell for you so fast. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with...with everything."

Eddie rubs his palms on his thighs nervously. Steve doesn't reach out. He doesn't look at Eddie. Eddie's heart is full of messy feelings. He doesn't know what to do or what to say, but he knows he wants to wipe that heartbreak from Steve's face. And he wants to love Steve the way Steve deserves to be loved.

With a wince, Eddie pushes himself up to a sitting position despite Steve's protest and hovering hands. Then he leans forward to grab Steve's hand in a firm handhold.

"Hi," he says, looking into Steve's widened eyes. "My name's Eddie."

There's a beat where Steve stares at him in confusion. Then realization seems to hit, and a cautious smile hooks the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, Eddie," Steve says shyly. "I'm Steve."

"I'm kind of caught up in something at the moment, Steve," Eddie says, gesturing at the healing room with his free hand. "But I'd love to take you out to dinner sometime. Hopefully soon?"

Steve lets out a disbelieving chuckle. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, Eddie, I'd like that a lot."

Steve and Eddie get the chance to fall in love all over again, without any monsters or evil masterminds to get in the way. Turns out they fall even harder when the stress of imminent doom isn't around.

[kiaroscuro]

Title: as the world caves in

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning: gore

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

Four days later has Ren finally finding success, body weary and battered. After continuing on further north-east, Ren's managed to track down three garuda, circling lethargically in the air until he attracted their attention, after which they started circling him like vultures. It had been raining for the past day, and Ren's soaked to the bone and dragged down by the weight of his clothes, but he doesn't stop his relentless pursuit of the mutated until he managed to clip the wings of two and dismember the third, his sniper rifle still hot and smoking at the muzzle before he hurriedly stoves it away next to his things -- hidden in a tangle of brambles.

He engages the bird-like shadows with his dagger and handgun, tries his best to wound and not kill, hopes that at least one of them has enough brainpower left to use a healing skill targeted at the group so that Ren can benefit from it.

He stumbles as one lunges for him, catching his side with its beak before they crash, and Ren has barely any time to ram up his gun to catch it before it tried to go for his neck, eyes empty. There's flowers lodged in its throat, the petals falling past the gun and onto his cheek with its saliva, and Ren closes one eye while he struggles to move the arm pinned underneath its foot, dagger in a reverse grip. The other two are approaching, one of them dragging itself on the ground because he'd gotten its leg, and Ren panics and rams his knee into the groin of the one that is trying to bite him, dislodging its foot before he guts it open, gore splattering into his front as it falls to the side, limp.

Ren breathes heavily, rattled, jumps to his legs before kneeling because he's out-of-breath, aiming his handgun for the head of the closest approaching one, the echoing bang-! loud in the silence of the forest. "...come on, heal yourselves...!" Ren mutters, clutching at his sluggishly bleeding side, vision growing wonky because of his exhaustion and the harsh rainfall. "Please," he adds, kind of helplessly. The gutted one is dying, he's blown out the brains of another, and only the one that was dragging itself along is still close to being 'fine' -- if they don't cast the spell, Ren will have to find others, and he doesn't think he can survive another week of stark silence without going completely mad.

The last garuda groans, drags itself close enough to Ren's side that he's readying his dagger already, before the soft glow of Amrita Drop surrounds it. Ren watches in fascination as some of the flowers seem to peel off of them, watches as wounds try and fail to close -- it's a spell against ailments and not physical injuries, after all, though it helps with alleviating pain -- and then finally feels it wash over himself.

Ren's breath gets struck in his throat as he waits, silently. A beat passes, then two--

static crackles in the air, a mazio unloading, and Ren's muscles tense as he watches in disbelief how the one-legged garuda shrieks as it rights itself up, pain visible in its dull eyes. He feels the electric-type damage wash over his skin, hyper-conducted through how wet he was, feels it travel over his shoulder and his shut eye and--

the static drops as quickly as it had appeared, and Ren curls into a ball with his forehead to the ground because his whole right side hurts, tears gathering in his eyes. Something sharp touches over his curled spine, but Ren's unresponsive, muscles spasming and side burning, his eye feeling as if it was cooked out of his skull. "Oh Ren..." Arsene's voice murmurs, low and sad but there. "...what stupid thing did thou do?" He asks, his claws pressing deeper against Ren's spine. Ren whines, fingers clutching deeper against his side, the pain making him delirious. But Arsene was there, Arsene was back, and --

Ren loses consciousness while he feels Arsene shift, feels the claws travel towards his chest and the persona's other hand towards his knees before he blacks out, welcoming the bliss of a painless silence.

--

He'd been able to see everything that kept happening to Ren as if through a kaleidoscope, impersonal and not-quite-there, sometimes missing hours if not days while he tried to stay aware, unable to interfere through the thick molasses of their addled mind, could do nothing but watch until Amrita Drop washed over them and broke Arsene free of the shackles, only to see his user--

Arsene sighs, cradling Ren closer to himself, the human's skin fevered with flush and bleeding from too many cuts and wounds. The persona had surveyed the grounds of slaughter before he'd carefully ambled over to where Ren's hidden his supplies, awkwardly grabbing everything and adjusting it onto his form without leaving his human out of his grasp, before he re-oriented himself into a north-east direction and started walking, his innate sense of direction as precise as a compass. Ren is burning up, whimpering at every movement, curling himself tighter against Arsene's chest in a feeble effort to feel safe even in his dreams, and Arsene mantles his wings over Ren to the best of his ability, the rain making the soft down stick together while it pearls off in rivulets. His fire burns low, a flickering thing while he continues forward, and he doesn't notice that he's thrumming in worry until Ren unconsciously smooths the palm of his hand over Arsene's chest as if to comfort him.

Warmth seeps into the persona at the connection point, something soft curving the line of his back, and he feels both incredibly fond and also unbelievably disgusted with himself, for not noticing the danger that the Nagoya settlement had turned into. Arsene chirrs softly when the rain turns to hail, glancing heavenwards and wondering where he should take Ren to, where there was a dry shelter the human could rest in. He's wary of any groups, be they human or shadow, would rather squirrel away his user and hide him from all of the hurt of the world.

The hail plinks against his mask, the break in his horn starting to smart from the cold, but Arsene soldiers on with his senses wide open and wonders.

An hour later something rustles to his right, the structure of the overgrown forest giving way to cliffs and sparser trees, conifers starting to dominate over the leafy ones. They're entering something of a more regular forest, the scent of magic subsiding as they pass whatever invisible border mother nature had decided was enough for her megafauna to terrorize, and Arsene can hear the soft chitter of regular animals instead of the groaning of the infected.

A shadow emerges from the tree-line, soaked through and with its armor in disarray, a little cat-shaped samurai. It is uninfected, but stares at Arsene as if he's the mutated one, though he probably showed a sight. "Greetings, shogun." Arsene says, inclining his head even while his claws tighten in the fabric of Ren's clothes and his wings press closer, until he can feel the hot fever past his feathers.

"Hullo. You're not sick," it says, eyes wary. Arsene nods.

"We wish you no harm; we're only seeking shelter," he murmurs, voice catching and throat smarting. Speaking loudly scrapes at his wounded throat, and he can feel blood and ichor amass behind the seams of his mask the more he speaks with the cat, doesn't know how much of it is physical and how much is psychological pain. But Ren needs somewhere dry so that Arsene could inspect his shoulder and his abdomen before the fever turns into an infection, so he will try.

The cat frowns, and something behind it moves, another neko shogun appearing. A nekomata follows, as does a bugbear and an alice, and Arsene finds himself tense as he notices that he's run into a rather large group of survivors. "Where are you headed?" The nekomata asks, one of her ears missing.

"To Tokyo."

"It's dangerous to cross over the forest. Stick to the human ruins." The first shogun says, and Arsene nods. The hail still falls, but it has stopped its relentless assault. Still; Ren's clothes are completely soaked.

"The city is in shambles, but there's survivors banding together everywhere, be they human or shadow." The nekomata continues, and his fire purses into a thin line.

"Thou've been there?"

She nods, tail swishing. She looks frightened, malnourished. "Near Odaiba. Everything went under when the bay expanded two months ago; I fled and ran into bugbear. It's a long way to Tokyo, and winter is close, avian. Now we only wish for a shelter where we'll not be separated."

He nods, aware of the impending winter that they hadn't managed to out-journey. "Stay as far away as ye can from Nagoya's settlement; it is a cannibalistic cult particularly unfriendly to shadows." Arsene shifts, clutches Ren closer to offer what little body warmth that he can, the steady rise and fall of his user's breath the only balm on their shared soul right now. "There's a camp near Tsu called Tsu-Aki that takes in shadows and humans alike." He offers, because these shadows had given him invaluable advice about the road ahead.  

The group glances at each other, before the nekomata and the shogun bow. Arsene inclines his head, thinking their amenable exchange over, but the alice speaks up next, her dress soaked dark and her hair cut uneven. "We've taken shelter inside an abandoned airplane wreck some two days' foot-journeyfrom here, further uphill. It's been rapidly overtaken by nature, but it should be a useful shelter to wait out the next few days of rain and hail." She eyes his wings. "It might be dangerous, but flying should cut you down to only a few hours. That human of yours looks to be in a bad shape."

Arsene stares. He's not used to kindness from strangers they encounter on the road, his own throat and broken horn a testament to that. "Thank you," he chokes out. The alice smiles softly, curtsies, and then they're off. Arsene hopes that they'll make it to Zenkichi, suddenly full of sentiment. He's not been in existence for even two years, though the past months feel like a whole lifetime. Some of these shadows are multiple times his senior, have seen the cruelty and whimsy of humanity in a way he as a persona never really has, and they still try to help Ren because he's cradling his human close. He wishes them the best before carefully shifting around the packs -- the backpack is resting awkwardly on his back, and Arsene's never been as glad that his wings set out from his lower back than now -- but he manages to somehow get airborne after a few embarrassing starts and sets out to find this airplane wreck in the hopes that it's at least somewhat dry.

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[bluebunnyears-08]

Writing Prompt: Nine's finally had enough of getting bullied by the other foxes for his two tails. He builds his seven other robotic tails. Then he teaches his bullies a bitter lesson.

Oh, thank you for the ask! And good prompt too! I've always imagined how Nine dealed with his bullies, and I have a few ideas, I just haven't had a reason to write them until now!

I hope you like it! If y'all have anything you want to ask (could be requests for stories, questions about things you want to know, or theories you want to share,) go ahead and do so, I don't bite!

Anyway, onto the story!

-------------------------------------------------------

That was it.

He was done being nice. They hurt him, mocked him, and beat him for far too long. He had tried everything. He tried ignoring it and he ended up with bruises, he tried to be nice to them, but all he got were mocking words, he tried avoiding them, and the beatings and taunting were only harsher.

Nobody helped him. Nobody ever did. When they noticed they'd ignore what was happening, or they'd join in. He couldn't trust anyone to help, people only cared about themselves.

Why shouldn't he follow that rule?

He was making something, something that would end all of it. The mocking, the scorning, the jeers, the beatings, it all would end when he was finished. He was almost done, they were almost complete.

The invention that would change everything. No more bullies, no more abuse, no more jeers or disgusted looks, all of it would stop when these were finished.

Looking back, inventing used to be fun, for a short while. He remembers wagging his tails when he had an idea for something new, something revolutionary.

Now it was a necessity, something that he needed, that he didn't find fun, but needed and serious. He missed those simple wags of happiness, now he didn't wag them at all.

There's nothing to be happy about anymore.

He smirked, not with joy or excitement, but satisfaction and smugness, sadistic and revenge-driven thoughts ran through his head.

They were done.

He was ready.

==============================================

The cries of several foxes and other animals were music to Miles's sadistic ears.

It wasn't a pretty sight, some had deep bruises, some sprained, and some were bleeding.

But not Miles.

For the first time, he was completely unscathed. No bruises other than the ones already there, and no new scratches. He was fine.

Miles felt himself slightly getting giddy at the power he now holds over them. There they were, sobbing, begging for mercy, looking at him with fear and pain that he relished.

They should fear him. That's what they get for never trying to love him.

Nobody did.

He wasn't interested in taking control of the city, though he could do it easily if he so tried. But the smallest bit of power left him with a twisted sense of joy.

The tears on his previous abuser's faces were diamonds and riches to him. He hit jackpot at that moment.

Now they knew to leave him alone, now he won't ever get hurt again.

They called him things he wasn't surprised about, wasn't anything he never heard before.

'Monster', 'beast', 'freak', and more he's heard before.

Maybe he was a monster for doing this, but he didn't care. If being a monster kept everyone away from him, then so be it.

Hmm..

If he was a monster then he should change his name. Miles made him feel like he had an identity. Like he was human. He wasn't treated like he was, so maybe he never was. So he needs something new.

He looked at his new tails. He didn't have two anymore. He used irony harshly against them, beating them with the very things they outcasted him for. He grinned. He had seven more.

He had nine now.

Nine.

What a perfect name for a monster...

[96percentdone]

Oh, this is going to be a fun one! (I hope.) Not necessarily romantic (but you can if you want!!) 14 or 22 for Larry and Edgeworth! (Ace Attorney)

Asks that remind me I never uploaded my Larry Zine fic to Ao3. Did that by the time you get this prompt fill, but Here's that for those who have not seen it. On with the main event!

14. phone call and 22. reunion hug

Although Miles has spent more time far across the ocean than here—speaking German in quaint little towns with clear skies, winding waterways, and unique historical architecture—Los Angeles with its sea of skyscrapers and palm trees mixed with shrines and Japanese street food stands is still the only city he truly calls home. It’s good to be back—or at least it would be were he not stranded at LAX for the past several hours with no ride in sight. He wants to sleep in his own bed!  For god’s sake, what could be taking him so long?

Bzzzzt. Through the many layers of his suit and coat, his phone vibrating is still more felt than heard in the endless noise of Terminal B. It doesn’t last long. “What happened?”

“Not even a hello? Rude!” whines the voice on the other end, loud enough Miles has to pull the phone away from his ear despite the surrounding cacophony. 

“Butz, I was on a flight for 12 hours in a cramped economy seat, and now I’m sitting on my suitcase in an airport terminal. You try being congenial in these circumstances.”

“Listen man—” Larry starts, and a horn blares from nearby him, “—the traffic out here is TERRIBLE! What do you want from me? It’s like Moozilla vs Gourdy levels of people trying to leave town, and then the car—” Another horn. Again? Larry pulls away from the mic and yells, “Hey, watch it, buddy! I’m right here!”

A horrible thought strikes him, accompanied by the image of a beat up Honda CR-V smashed like an accordion against a highway K-rail: “Please tell me you are not still behind the wheel.” 

“What? No!” Thank god. “I’m crossing the street! These guys are crazy out here! They almost hit me with a car!”

“Well, those are LA drivers for you,” Miles drawls with the faintest hint of a smirk. He really ought to stop underestimating Larry; although his choices are usually dubious, he agreed to pick him up on short notice when no one else would. 

“They’re out for blood! My life is at stake!”

“I’m sure you will survive the perils of crossing the street.” 

“What about the guys riding the curb? Nowhere is safe! I might not have any feet after this! And I don’t think you know how to drive American cars…”

What kind of ridiculous assumption is that? It’s just a car! It can’t be that different! “Just hurry up.”

“I’m doing my best!” Larry yells. “Why didn’t you get a cab? Most people do.” 

“I had not planned to return home this soon, and…” How could he? Who would have expected this? And only a mere two weeks after Miles swore to reform the entire legal system! As soon as the news graced his phone screen, well…let’s just say he panicked, and after an uncountable number of rejected calls and going straight to voicemail before that too was turned off, he booked the soonest flight home without regard to logistics; it only occurred to him mid-flight he does not have means to get home. “I was not quite thinking clearly.”

“He really provokes something else in you, huh?” The who remains unspoken. For his numerous idiosyncrasies and struggles with basic logic, for matters of the heart, Larry is strikingly intuitive. Though Miles did not once say why he was already back home in that call sitting in the back of the plane waiting to get out, the wobbling wave weaved through every word must have given him away. 

There’s a pause—1…2…3—then a sigh. “Yes.” 

“Yeah, I get it,” Larry says, in a quiet voice, or at least as quiet as he can manage in the interminable noise of LAX’s international terminal. “It’s good you came back.”

‘I agree’, Miles thinks. ‘I had to,’ he affirms. ‘Was there any other choice?’ he asks. ‘It is the least I can do to pay him back for all he’s done for me,’ he confesses. ‘I may not be able to do much more than this; the undertaking I’ve begun is so massive, and already I’ve lost one of my greatest allies,’ he worries. ‘I did not envision beating back this darkness alone,’ he despairs. ‘But I must,’ he resolves. ‘Perhaps it’s fitting that my work begins with changing the legal world to bring him back.’

“Mm.” A grunt will have to suffice. He’s sure that Larry understands that without it being spoken as well.

Larry says something indecipherable, muffled by something blocking the microphone, but before Miles can ask him to repeat it, there’s a shout and an abrupt click. “Now who is being rude,” he grumbles, looking up from his phone right as an orange track suit comes rocketing towards him. 

“Edgeyyy!!!” He yells, loud enough to turn the heads of several tourists, although if he notices, it affects him not one whit. 

“You’re causing a scene,” Miles says, giving a pointed glance to the other stragglers loitering in this corner who are now gawking at Larry as he jumps over suitcases and sprints across the tile floor. 

To his surprise, Larry actually listens, skidding to a sudden stop with an “Oops!” about five feet away, and the tourists return their attention elsewhere. “I was gonna give you a welcome back hug, but then I figured you don’t really like that kinda thing.” 

“A good assumption,” Miles says and picks himself off his luggage. Everything is still here—yes. Exactly where it should be. “Alright. We should make haste.” I cannot bear this noise for even one second longer.

But Larry says nothing and remains firmly rooted in place even as Miles starts wheeling his way out; whereas before he wore a smile too big for his face, now his mouth is curved into an uneasy half-frown. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Sorry. I was just thinking about something.”

Normally, Miles would say, ‘a rarity,’ but with that wavering misty gaze, it’s clear now is not the time for snark. “About…?”

“I’ve never been to this part of the terminal before. Y’know. For arrivals.”

That’s it? But Miles bites his tongue. Obviously, that is not merely it, but what it is is beyond him. Miles is nothing like Larry; for him, emotions are an enigma beyond understanding. And I have no evidence to work with! Well, that’s not strictly true. Think! His phrasing suggests Larry’s been here for departures, and yet never the return. That’s not how traveling works—you have to return home—but Miles didn’t take him as the traveling type for several reasons, so that only leaves… “Ah.”

Miles has never given much thought to Larry’s myriad relationships. They never last very long;  he can hardly remember any of his former girlfriends’ names, only that they tend to be models and actresses, and at some point, without fail, they leave to travel abroad. Presumably, they must come back, in the same way Miles does, but…not for him. They never come back to him.

Passengers from the latest arrival pour out from the hallway out of customs and into the lobby in droves, reuniting with their loved ones waving them down with enthusiastic shouts of “Welcome home!” Not far from them, a middle-aged man welcomes a girl home, perhaps his daughter, with outstretched arms, and she tackles him with a laugh.

“Anyway, we can head out,” Larry starts, speeding towards the exit but without the bombast from earlier, “but I gotta warn you it’s really bad out—”

“Larry.” Deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale. You can manage this.

“What?” Larry says. He hasn’t stopped.  

“Come here.” His arms move like they belong to a rusted machine, disjointed, clunky and slow and slow, and Miles has never felt less in control of his limbs before. How does anyone do this? 

“Why? Aren’t we leaving? I thought you wanted to go home.”

“Butz so help me—” 

“Dude, make up your mind—” But Larry’s words putter out once he finally turns around, and he stands there with his mouth still hanging open. It flaps, open, then less, again and again as he tries yet fails to speak. 

Yes, I know I look ridiculous! This was a terrible idea! What is he doing? Why is he doing this? Yes, they’re friends, but it’s not like he can fix it! He didn’t come home for Larry’s sake either, so isn’t this a meaningless, symbolic gesture of pity? What’s the point? 

“Edgeeeeyyyy!!!,” Larry cries, and once again barrels across the airport terminal, crashing into Miles at full force, almost knocking them to the floor were it not for Miles’ luggage behind them, but despite the strength of the crash, the hug itself is gentle. Enthusiastic, but gentle. “I missed you, man!!”

“I was not even gone a week.” The rust in his arms slowly falls away when Miles hugs him back. 

“Still!” Larry says as he steps back with a sniff. “Only you can make offering a cheer-up hug look like struggling to lift 200 pounds.” 

“Nnngghhh—” Must he say it so bluntly? Curse his intuition! 

But Larry’s impossibly big smile from earlier is back, so maybe this humiliation is okay. “It’s good to be back, right?”

Yes, it is. Los Angeles is a mess of skyscrapers and shrines and endless horrific traffic, a city rife with corruption that stretches deep into the foundation of government, yet just as filled with people who would drop everything to come get him, no matter how ill-tempered and emotionally inarticulate he is. “Yes, it is.” Thank you. 

Larry waves him off. Once again, Miles is understood without speaking.

[milky-fixx]

A letter is delivered to you from the port of Venice. The envelope is torn in places, waterlogged from the trip. The letter itself is scrawled hastily, as if the person was racing against time to get to you. Still, their handwriting is bold, as if determined to leave an impression.

[text:

Hey!

I really might die this time, you know? And I'll pass onto the next life not having even gotten a kiss from you. So pucker up those lips, baby—Ow, Caesar, ow! Watch it. That damned Italian and his bubble gun, telling me to hurry things up.

I can't believe what a damned mess I've gotten myself in—and all over a stupid little ring! Gah. Remind me never to get married. Well, if I make it out of this. This is the last time I'm agreeing to a proposal from just any stranger!

Look, I can't tell you this in person because I... well, because I'm out of time. I'm hoping this gets to you in time. Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that I want you...

To—to keep my clacker balls, should anything happen to me. I want you to treat them delicately, as if they were my own balls! Ha! Could you imagine that? Ah, perhaps metaphorically. Not my actual balls. Not certain you would treat those kindly.

Agh, Caesar is telling me I'm wasting time. As if he understands how difficult this is... Look, what I actually want to tell you is...

Crap. I've got to go.

Catch you later, I'd hope.

Yours,

Jo—]

[don't read the tags if you want to guess who it is!]

[angelmichelangelo]

just posted a new chapter for the collection :)

[solomiracle]

From the ask game! You said you had two MCs so can I ask this question to both? I'm curious if they have different opinions about it.

10: What was there initial reaction to Diavolo's plans of uniting the three realms? Has their opinion changed?

EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHE :333

At first, Ambrosia (He/They, sorta self-insert), thought that Diavolo was insane, just like his plan, and all of it was doomed to fail. But after spending more time in the Devildom and with Diavolo, they came to admire his efforts and now do their part to help him see his plan through. But still, they can't help but fear that it's all for naught. He has some shaky amount of hope that the Devildom and Celestial Realm can be united, but he doesn't have any faith in humanity going along. But he loves Diavolo, and would never dare admit that to him.

As for Marcelo (He/They/She, OC), he's a witch! So he already had some knowledge of angels and demons before the exchange program, and after the initial confusion, he has some high hopes for Diavolo's plan. Emphasis on the "some", though....

They feel that the angels and demons should work themselves out before tackling humanity... or rather just not interfere with humans at all. Not in Solomon's whole "humans don't need a guide and we should be free of otherworldly influence" way, but more like "humans are fucking stupid and learning of the other two worlds would cause chaos" way. He knows it goes against Diavolo's plan, but he feels that only a small amount of humans knowing that the two worlds exist would be for the best.

[thotsforvillainrights]

last ask was about this was great, so I'd love to see kink headcanons for whichever 4 villains you're thinking about the most rn!

(You know I thought about this for a second and I really wanted to write for my top 4 at the moment, but then I thought about it again. I realized they’d been getting a lot of attention lately so I decided to totally switch it up and write for 4 of my favorites that WEREN’T getting attention lately!)

~4 Faves and What are they Into?~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

1.) Setsuno- Definitely into being praised. I know I’ve probably said that a million times before but I’ll say it once again. He probably loves being told how good he is at what he’s doing to you. Being soft on him only makes his heart do leaps and his cock twitch. I think on the flipside that possibly you could try also degrading him one time to see how it sticks. Maybe he would also like to be told how naughty he’s been or how he looks perfect with a mouth full of cum. And don’t get me started on gagging him...y’know? 

2.) Rappa- Is Hosiery a thing with him you think? I mean does it count since anything you do or wear turns him on anyway. But especially when you slip on pantyhose is when he feels his resolve faulter. Rappa is also into being hurt in bed. Believe it or not, the brute doesn’t want to hurt you by any chance and sometimes asks if you’re okay right in the middle of sex (if this contradicts anything I’ve said about him in the past then disregard it). However when he’s on the line himself? Anything goes really. Push him to his limits. C’mon, don’t be scared! He wants to take a look at your handwork in the bathroom mirror the next morning as he prepares for work. He wears those hickies and scars like a medal of honor, waiting to brag about fucking you to anyone that accidently questions him. (poor Tengai lol)

3.) Twice- Nipple play. I think he’s genuinely into nipple play and I will not further speak about it. Just trust me on this. Also (and I know you’re expecting this) but getting his clones involved after he’s gotten over his trauma. It’s a chance to have a three or even four-way (maybe even more) without having to deal with his jealousy at the thought of anyone else touching you. Sometimes he’ll sit to the side and watch his clones fuck you as he touches himself (Does this also count as cuckholding???). So if you’re not into that when he brings it up then be honest with him because he’s planning on doing it fairly soon.

4.) Spinner- It’s rare that he initiates this due to still being shy with you, but he’s kinda into roleplaying. He’s awkward with it so you’ll need to take the lead. Want to really get him going? Dress up as one of his favorite anime or video game characters. The first time you did this it was like a switch shifted and you didn’t leave the bedroom until late in the evening of the next day. 

[stellari-s]

Hi again! You have all the time you need (it's also important to rest (≧ ◡ ≦)💕) how ithaqua will react when it sees the reader wearing a maid with cat ears and tail

I will help you if I have any ideas for you to write ithaqua blogs, if it is not annoying to give more request 😅

💖

hi hi, silvi! thanks for your patience and the request too 🥹🙏 i had fun writing this but i also couldn't help to put in a tiny bit of angst too... and no worries! please give me your ideas. i wanna hear them all 👀

request; yes, for @silvi-otaku and they are open! feel free to send me requests through my inbox or dm 🤲

wc; 951.

tags; gn! maid! reader, default! ithaqua, some romantic vibes, ithaqua being slightly possessive, can be romantic or platonic, some angst, some mild signs of self-harm.

summary; clad in a maid dress with cat ears and tail to boot, you decide to clean ithaqua's room.

knock, knock.

a bout of nervousness causes your heart to beat out of your chest as you wait from the other side, clutching the hem of the black dress you were made to wear because you lost a game of truth or dare.

now as a punishment, you have to wear a maid dress with cat ears and a tail while cleaning one of the hunter’s rooms of your choice.

for a little bit, it’s silent, and you almost breathe a sigh of relief. almost - you celebrated too early, as the door opened, your eyes meeting with a face concealed by a white mask and a hood that somewhat matches your own.

ah, i thought he would be away… “h-hi, ithaqua.”

“(y/n)?” ithaqua tilts his head. “why are you in those clothes?” his evident confusion notwithstanding, he opens the door wider to let you in the relatively simple room.

you aren’t sure if you should answer at first, but you don’t want to just leave him unanswered either, so after some thought you open your mouth to reply. “i lost a game, and this is the punishment.” you avert your eyes, unable to hide the blush forming on your cheeks.

ithaqua is completely silent at first, and eventually the self-consciousness causes you to break the silence. “are you thinking of how to make fun of me?”

you reach up, about to take off the cat ears in an attempt to keep some sense of dignity, but then ithaqua stops you, his hands gently gripping your wrists. “if it’s a punishment,” he says, “you should see it to the end, right?”

you can’t help but feel baffled at his words as you mutter under your breath, “are you a sadist or something?”

with a shrug, you can hear ithaqua chuckle, his laugh containing a somewhat singsong quality. he doesn’t goad you further though. “i can give you a reason then?” his voice raises as if he’s asking a question, but it’s clear to you that he still intends to go through with it, regardless of your response.

“like what?”

“if you’re like this”—ithaqua reaches for you, his gloved fingers brushing along the cat ears you’re wearing—“then we can sort of match.”

come to think of it, his hood is kind of shaped like cat ears.

“what about the dress? and the tail?”

ithaqua seems to be in thought for a moment, his thumb and index finger on his chin. but then he taps his own mask gently. “maybe i’ll take this off, just for you.”

“maybe, you say?”

“maybe.”

you let out a sigh, but you have to admit the offer is quite tempting. going through this so-called punishment for a chance to see what may lie behind that mask? you have never seen him unmask before you, so naturally you feel at least somewhat curious about what’s beneath that white mask. is it pale skin like porcelain that only bathes in the moonlight? or is it full of scars from previous battles? does he have eyes that would remind you of glass, or perhaps a peaceful night? would he have a mischievous smile on his face as he laughs?

you don’t know, but it’s a lie to say you don’t want to know.

curiosity kills the cat, as they say.

“alright,” you concede, “i’ll do it. but only take off your mask if you feel comfortable.” even though you can only see his mask, you could practically feel him in a good mood from where you are standing. “i’ll go and grab cleaning-”

“let me go grab those. you stay here,” ithaqua says, heading to the door.

“huh? i can do it on my own though.”

your protest seems to fall on deaf ears though. “shh, it’s okay. i’d rather you not show this to anyone else.”

his words come off so casually that for a few moments the implication behind those words don’t process completely in your head. “wh, wait-!”

before you can finish your retaliation, ithaqua closes the door behind him, leaving you in the room for a while. with your words only falling on deaf ears now, you resign with a sigh and look around the room.

there’s honestly not a lot to clean here, though you notice as you run your fingertips along the tabletop that some dust has accumulated there. there’s a simple bed, along with a small fireplace that looks like it hasn’t been used in a long while, though there is firewood there already. some decorations sit atop the fireplace, but what catches your eye the most is a dark, opaque cloth over a tall structure of some sorts.

narrowing your eyes, you move the cloth aside. beneath the cloth is a large mirror.

the surface is cracked in the center, and some dark stains are in the center, where it’s most shattered. probably blood.

you can see your distorted reflection, wearing the maid dress, cat ears and cat tail.

for a moment, your heart starts to feel heavy upon this sight, and the silence blanketing over doesn’t help either. you don’t have much time to wallow though, as the door opens once again, and in a rush you pull the cloth over once again, trying your best to hide the fact you were just looking around.

ithaqua approaches you before holding out some cleaning supplies.

“good luck, miss cat maid (y/n),” he says, unable to conceal a laugh that sounds like music.

despite his teasing tone, you can’t feel mad. “...remember your promise, and remember it well,” you reply, taking the supplies.

you clean the room thoroughly, everywhere but that large cloth covering a dark shadow of the past.