#and it's impossible to filter out cause there's no tag for me to hide this fucking theory away

[belanova]

Karmaland!Quackity is C!Quackity theory.

The theory is that k!quackity is c!quackity because everyone is from a different universe and died in their og timeline but were pulled out, and such their memories removed, everyone is from k4 except quackity who is said to be from a different universe... Which must mean k!quackity is actually c!quackity

I have no problems with that logic, what annoys me IS THE EXECUTION OF THIS THEORY IS BORING AND SUCKS ASS AND FANON HAS MADE ME HATE IT!

People then use this theory not to like make theories of k!quackity's backstory or the speculation of what c!quackity's life could've gone had he not met the people did or what killed c!q or maybe any searching for k!quackity's past and wondering if his past then affects him now and his views on that c!q and speculating on that past him and if it resemblance to any current rela-

NOPE IT'S A SPLIT PERSONALITY THING! the reason he does the bad things or not morally good thing is because c!q is posessing k!q like a demonic guardian and he passes out until waking up he's killed a bunch of people but he doesn't notice because appearantly nobody tells him either

It's fucking stupid because this characterizes him as "Naive idiot who can't do malicious or evil things without somebody else manipulating him to do it" aka what luzu thought of quackity and such the reason he stole the elections, THE ARC SPELLS OUT AND THEN K!QUACKITY HIMSELF CRITICIZES BY SAYING "What? he thinks i'm a baby or something!?" AND IT STILL FLEW OVER YOUR HEADS

making his actions be because of a personality split is the most fucking boring way to deal with that because that removes k!q's agency and instead goes to "oh a ghost made me do it" instead of inspecting the reasoning and any impulses for him to do the things he does,

the usual trope of D.I.D people by implying that a second secret personality possesses them and makes them cause atrocities because they're inherently dangerous how many times does this trope have to happen until people get sick and bored of the plot twist and fuck off to some other new shiny thing that's fucked with people's ability to consume stories

tldr: if i gotta see this theory being made into c!q is k!quackity's split personality i'm going to

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Soft Launch

luke hughes x actress!reader

note: please don't look up the date of kick a ginger day cause it does not line up but please let me have this

y/n_l/n

liked by jackhughes, sabrinacarpenter, and others

tagged: @/sabrinacarpenter, @/naileadevora

y/n_l/n: spot the difference, level impossible

view all comments

july 9

max1989: you even have the twilight filter over both this is level impossible

jenna_: wtf is ethan edwards doing in y/n's comments??

SueMe_13: more importantly why are him and y/n so buddy-buddy

e.edwards.stan: isn't she dating luke?

zebra_zegras_11: WHAT?! 😲

julien.bakers_wife: i ain't never seen two pretty best friends cause i see three

naileadevora: we look so hot 😍😍

y/n liked this comment

edwards.73: what does the redhead have on her face?

y/n_l/n: ..a face mask?

edwards.73: no i know that i was talking about the other redhead

y/n_l/n: your just sour i rejected you cause i have a bf

enchanted.by.y/n: YOU HAVE A WHAT???

edwards.73: idk what you see in that kid

danelle1989: possible her and jack are dating? like are we sure it's luke

steph_43: that's what i'm saying because she's like the same age as jack

all_too.unwell: jack in the likes and ethan in the comments her and luke are not being very subtle

y/n_l/n

liked by miagoth0, lhughes_06, and others

y/n_l/n: photo dump.. also taking new friend applications because all my 'friends'' kicked me today #keepinggingerssafe

view all comments

september 6

pheobe.86: he got her flowers 💕

emma.loves.y/n: the bar is on the floor

drysdalelove_: i still think she's dating jack 🤷‍♀️

conner_mcdavid_fan: can't believe luke picked out those gorgeous flowers

matilda_styles: someone cooked there

_inlovewith.caufield: someone = y/n

alex.turtle: looking like a date..

tswift_1213: your kinda right

marauders.fans: it could just be a friend like Sabrina or Billie or Dove

brina.and.y/n_fan: she would have tagged them if it was a friend

snow.lands.on.top_ofME: how do i apply?

billiebosanova: don't know who would want to date her

your-so-gorgeous: those flowers are y/n if she were flowers

jackhughes: i wonder who bought those flowers..👀

burrows_darling: he love causing a little chaos

bedard_lover: proof she's dating jack not luke!

hannah.montana_stan: quick y/n look out! there's a man in that car!

cold_as_youuu: chaotic y/n photo dumps are my favourite!

lacy_: luke liked!!

im_a_mirrorball: who?

lacy_: 💀

y/n_l/n

liked by _quinnhughes, taylorswift, and others

y/n_l/n: when i get my paris by taylor swift moment>>>

view all comments

september 25

the.c0ck.22: more flowers, where do i find a man like this

loving_lhughes: that is just so obviously jack to me

nico.13.wife: its okay to be wrong 😊

laurieandamy: that cuddle position>>

kaylor.ships.13: she's so overhyped

y/n.dani_: his hands holding her thighs like that 🥵

gerwig_film_fan: that dress is so pretty

y/n_l/n

liked by lhughes_06, dylanduke25, and others

tagged: lhughes_06

y/n_l/n: the rumours are terrible and cruel, but honey must of them are true... so this is my man, ya'll been wondering thought i should show him off and show off how much i love him

also have to address this. am i okay?? i went to a football game and a hockey game this week, someone please check on me.

view all comments

october 7

y/n.alltoowell: girl you don't have to hide his face you tagged him

carmen_lana: y/n is getting too unhinged with that last pic

trevorzegras: still don't know how you pulled this off lukey

jackhughes: it is a fucking mystery

y/n_l/n: have you seen him?

jackhughes: thats gross

hughes_love: she's so absolutely real for that

inlovewith.hughesbrothers: luke keep it pg!

loverofdogs: no clue what luke sees in her, he could do so much better

trevorzegras: could you introduce me to taylor now?

colecaufield: me too!!

_quinnhughes: so happy for you and lukey i mean he's been in love with you since he was 15

lhughes_06: dude shut up

y/n_l/n: thank you for being the only one to actually say their happy for us!!

jackhughes: you know im happy for you both i just still can't believe it

wes.and.libby: they are so hot in the last pic 😍

jackhughes: lukey! watch those hands

edwards.73: still don't know what you see in this kid

dylanduke25: it's insane he pulled her

y/n_l/n: let me say this again have you seen him?

lhughes_06: thanks gorgeous

jackhughes: 🤮

potter.wife: i don't know who i want to be more

nai_my_girl: no i know i want to be luke

wonderland_stan: his hand placement 🥵 everyday i fall more in love with this man

lhughes_06: you're so gorgeous

y/n_l/n: you're perfect 😭

never.a.god: y/n and taylor in their wag era

ethan.e.wife: luke hughes, king of manifestation

lhughes_06: i love you too

y/n_l/n: i love you more

lhughes_06: i love you most

y/n_l/n: 💗💗💗

[mrbexwrites]

Writing Whispers

Accepting @sarahlizziewrites open tag for this, as an excuse to dive into the archives and see how far I've come.

Rules: find a few paragraphs of writing from as long ago as you can. Re-write them how you would now.

Gently tagging @words-after-midnight @queen-tashie @deanwax @cee-grice and offering up an open invite to balance out the one I took! ;)

I actually have a good comparison project from my very first attempt at writing (and finishing) a novel!) It's from an old high fantasy project that I never did quite get round to finishing, but did attempt to re-write one NaNo a few years back.

2003

From where she crouched on her vantage point, Ylarae could survey the entire grounds of the townhouse she now perched upon. Hidden in the shadows of the stone gargoyles that stood as silent protectors against evil, she watched the Numen Warriors make their rounds as guests at the party stepped outside and mingled with one another, quickly heading back indoors when the colder weather forced them back.  Gaining entry to the townhouse had been surprising easy, despite the many guards that patrolled the perimeter. She had, with ease, scaled the wall that lead into a voluptuous rose garden, a skeletal twining of branches in the dead of winter. Keeping to the shadows, she had slipped silently past two of the Numen guards who stood shivering in their boots, trying to pull their thick woolen cloaks tighter about them. Once past the guards, she grabbed hold of the iron cast gutters and used them to scale the thick grey stone walls of the house.  Inside the house, she could hear the soft cadence of the music intermingled with laughter as it filtered through the open windows. The lady of the house was holding a party and Ylarae was using the distraction of the multitude of guests as a disguise to hide her presence within the grounds. Her footprints in the snow were lost within the steps of the partygoers as some sought nightly congress with masked strangers. The suspicion of who stole the necklace would fall on one of the guests, rather than looking outside.  Ylarae smiled despite herself; this was easier than she thought. All she had to do was break in, steal the necklace and then leave it in the hollow of the Hanging Tree in Byre’s Wood where she would find her fee. Ylarae disliked being used in such a menial task and had asked why Gristle could not do it himself. Each time, he merely laughed, a sound almost akin to a bear’s, and told her that she was the one to retrieve it. Despite her loathing of being used as a common thief, Ylarae found it impossible to refuse Gristle’s orders. Just thinking of the necklace caused her to shift with impatience, longing to get her hands on it, and have this menial task completed.   Shifting her weight to ease the cramp on her legs, Ylarae’s crossbow dug into her back. This once again ignited her ire at being used as a mere burglar. She was a highly skilled assassin, one of the best. She was trained in the shadow arts and the secrets of covert killing. But her most valuable abilities she had inherited from her mother.

2021

Her fingers tingled as she knelt atop one of the stone gargoyles that protected the perimeter wall. Carved out of granite, the stonemasons had imbued the stone with magic to ward off evil and protect those who lived inside.  It was an old magic, and ironic that these sentinels were being used to guard the very people who had scorched the earth and were trying to wipe magic from it.  Ylarae ran a gloved hand over the glyph-marks that had been etched into the creature’s head, rendering it nothing more than stone; the magic dissipated.  “What a shame,” she whispered to herself. “You would have stopped me, there is no doubt.”  She slid to a crouch beside the stone beast, hidden in its shadow as she watched the guards make another loop of the skeletal rose garden. In the summer, it would be a sight to behold; a manicured lawn with knee-height hedge mazes, flower beds and the roses that climbed to reach one another across the gravel path, forming an arch.  Light spilled out of the manor house, casting long shadows across the garden. Laughter, music and the sounds of glasses clinking filled the night air.  Gristle had told her to expect a heavily fortified home, given who lived here, but the party had been unexpected. Normally, she would have slunk back into the shadows, and returned later, but an urge, a need, pushed her onwards.  She surveyed the garden once more; she could balance her way along the wall and climb up into the house, but risk being seen by one of the guards. Or she could loop round the garden, which appeared to be the safer option, despite losing her vantage point.  A few guests would come out of the manor to mingle, have a quick stroll or to seek a quiet corner for congress in the shadows. But they never stayed out long, the cold pulling them back inside the house. A light dusting of snow covered the garden, but with wandering couples and the patrolling guards, any footsteps she left behind would be quickly lost amongst others.  As the guards passed once more, she tried to still her heart that was racing in her chest. Her hands trembled at the urgency to get going. Normally on a night like this, when she would be hunting, a placid calm fell upon her, but not tonight; tonight she was filled with electricity and need.  She dropped from the wall, landing silently on the lawn, only a few snowflakes drifting down behind her. On cat-like reflexes, she ran in a low crouch along the perimeter wall, staying to the shadows.  The shutters that hung from the wall, along with the iron-cast gutters made a simple ladder she used to scale the building.  Balancing on a third floor window ledge, she drew one of her twin blades that she kept in her sleeves, and popped the latch open. Her fingertips burned as she wriggled them under the window frame and slid it open enough for her to climb inside.  The third floor of the manor  was dark, and most likely off limits to the guests downstairs.  She stepped hastily away from the window, pressing her back against the wall; the last thing she wanted was to be outlined in the moonlight and easily visible. She knelt behind a dresser and waited for her eyes to adjust. She slipped off her gloves, feeling her heart pound. A cold sweat formed on her brow, which she wiped away, frowning at the perspiration.  The burning sensation in her fingers traveled further up towards her hands, and she balled them into fists trying to stop the feeling. 

[ruinmegently]

@dyrewrites tagged me! I'm tagging: @duraraross @digital-chance @careful-fear @murdersofcrow @mjjune @space-writes @unmellowyellowfellow and anyone else who wants to share some snippets!

7 Snippets from These Barren Wilds:

( 1 )

“Everyone’s like me. Like us. You just won’t admit it.”

Irah thumps his head against the wall and closes his eyes, willing the acid in his throat to settle. Never takes too long to reason it back down.

“The sky’s blue,” he says,” the Queen shits, the Walls are for our own damn good, and no one is like you, Tess.”

He tries to stare at her like she stares at him, but her skin’s too thick, her ground’s too rough to break, there’s no more nourishment left to give in the soil of her.

( 2 )

A fountain and glass windows (an Enforcer taught him the word, once, after she’d heard him calling it “shinythin”). Every two hours, people in white jumpers spill out of the building and crawl up the shinythi- the windows. They hang off its side with impossibly sticky hands and feet (that’s gotta be it, cause otherwise the building’s unscalable. Irah’s tried), pull out big guns with rubber hoses attached to the backpacks they carry, and pour out a strong, wild stream of water on the surface of the building. All the red dust that cakes on during those two hours washes away in pleasing streaks. They start from the top and scuttle like scorpions from left to right. One stripe cleared, then down a level. When they finish, they scurry back into the building before the thirsty people of Dust crawl from their arid alleys and make a break for the dripping edges of the towering, now glistening structure. The Enforcers guarding the fountain watch warily, the tightening of gloved hands over thick black batons noticeable even from a distance. If a dustblood gets too close to the fountain, they get beat. If they lick the clean water off the side of the Capitol building, they get beat. They fall to their knees and scoop up the mud, instead. The clever ones brought animal hide satchels and dump in big handfuls to squeeze out the water for drinking, later. The desperate ones shove globs of squelching mud into their mouths and chew, filtering it through the gaps in their teeth, working their tongues to push and press the water from the dirt, so they can drink it drop-by-drop.

Dustbloods are great with their tongues.

( 3 )

Home is filled with skeletons and not enough closets to put them in. Not literally of course. Bones burn up in a cemetery before the ash gets tossed into a wind that leads to the landfill. But there are ghosts in the walls that Irah’s well-practiced at ignoring. His place is a metal box. A “shipping container” an Enforcer told him once. Supposed to be used on a thing called a ship. And a ship’s supposed to drive around on a thing called an ocean. Irah knows about that last one. Has fuzzy memories of his dad’s hands, fingers bending up and down in a rubbery way—called it a wave. Moreso, he remembers the look in his older sister’s eyes when she talked about it, how she wanted to see it, smell its salt, eat the water with big mouthfuls and chew it up until it made her sick. That was before she was taken away, when he was still allowed to say her name.

( 4 )

He says sorry. Not with his words (never been good with them), but with the fist in her hair and the clean cut of his knife, dragged quickly through the jugular. One cut, lights out, no pain. First time he did it, he stood in front. Before he knew bodies spewed. Now he stands behind and only his hands get covered. Waste out back for the sand and the critters. Hands in the trough. He scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and his fingers are pink and raw when he pulls em out and the dirty water isn’t thick enough to be blood but—

Sometimes

(it feels—)

( 5 )

“They tell you the only life you deserve is the one you got,” she says, so distant. “And the only life worth living’s out West, but no one’s ever good enough to go there, Irah. Don’t you get it?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “It just takes money. The right connections.” You have to be patient, he wants to say. You have to work the system. You have to mill your soul down on a grindstone. You have to kill. You have to kill and kill and kill, because that’s where the money’s at. And if you’re good at it—really fucking good at it—then you can get out. You can leave this dusty grave behind and buy a big fucking house in Wave with a big fucking pool and take your dog and leave—

Leave.

Everyone

—else

Behind.

( 6 )

Not all Scrapper gangs are the same, and this one’s got a funny little tradition of passing on the mantle by battling the one in charge. Kili stepped up to the plate a few years ago and failed so miserably she should’ve been killed for it. But Mother Loe apparently liked her spunk. Gave her a chance. Spared her life.

Took the arm as payment.

( 7 )

Tess is gone.

He could scream. Or laugh. But not even that madness shows itself in the wake of this realization. It tucks itself into hidden corners deep inside, too scared of the seams within him, as if one wrong look could make them tear. Until Irah’s torn fabric flapping in the wind. Until all the parts of him are scattered and even the idea of him is irreparable. No one will remember his name. Tessa’s soul will bleed out in whatever work camp they put her in, and River will die and he’ll die within her as a fuzzy grey memory of shared bread and spilled blood.

[haven-in-writing]

To be the knife against his throat

TW- There is a bit of violence throughout each chapter so if that makes you uncomfortable please don't read ahead. I try to put the proper warnings when possible but unfortunately I do tend to forget. As this story progresses I will try to be more aware of this. Thank you beautiful people so much for reading!

Catch up with the first and second chapter if you haven't already!

Tag list as of 9/27/21 @avengerstanforlife, @dark-night-sky-99, @emergenciesstory , @bookscoffeeandracoons, @krystallynx

The following morning everyone in the compound was woken up to loud screams. Well, one loud scream coming from a certain trickster god. The team ran into the kitchen area to see you on top of Loki with a knife hitting his metal cuff attached to his armor. Growling in frustration, you punch his side, as he weakens his grip on your hand that holds the knife, you push further and the tip of said knife touches the base of his neck.

“Y/N NO!” The group collectively shouts as you draw a small amount of blood from the pressure you put on the knife. You lean down next to his face, whispering something that not even Friday could pick up on. His Adam's apple dips as he gulp’s from the assumed threat that was whispered. No one tries to approach you in case you decide to plunge the knife into his throat, but without any warning Loki smirks as a flash of green magic pushes you into a portal and leaves you falling in your ass a good distance from the god.

The inhumane growl that leaves your throat stops everyone in their tracks. Staring him down, Loki puts both hands up as a sign of peace.

“I mean no disrespect lady, I simply wished to not be in such a compromising position,” he explains quickly before your knife could find a home in his body.

“Just stay the hell away from me Loki,” you all but hiss at him before stalking out of the room ignoring the team's questions.

The group surrounding them doesn’t make a move, watching Loki for any signs that he will retaliate as Thor walks as quietly as he can slightly behind you. The two of you walk in silence to your private workshop. No one tried to stop and talk to you, practically feeling the tense energy you were exuding. As you entered the shop, Thor gently closed the door and cleared his throat.

“I know my brother can be infuriatingly frustrating to deal with, I do hope that this flaw of his doesn’t make it unbearable to be around either of us,” Thor finishes his sentiment quickly before you have a chance to speak.

“Thor, I promise I won’t actually kill your brother, I’m sorry you have to deal with this at all. Just- just keep him away from me. Okay?” you quickly continue, “He left me to die once, which only taught me that I can rely on no one. I don’t trust this team, I don’t trust normal people, and I especially don’t trust Loki. So back off.”

You leave Thor standing in the workshop baffled by the raw emotions you had shown in your brief tangent. As quick as you left, Loki entered the shop moments later, a flash of green being the only warning Thor had before he was staring at his brother.

“Lady y/n just left so it would be wise to make your leave quickly as I am unsure of whether she will return here or not,’’ Thor warns quickly and quietly.

“I did not realize she was still alive, I didn’t even bother to give her a proper burial,” Loki says, lowering his head with shame. “It was the least I could have done.”

Without another word, Loki disappears with a flash of green light. Thor breathes out gently and turns to leave the workshop. As he is about to switch off the light, a map on the wall catches his attention. A map he hadn’t seen in over a century, when the nations of Midgard were being claimed and fought over. Any doubts in his brother's memory were long gone with this artifact on the wall encased in glass. It was too frayed and battered to be a replica. With more questions brewing in his mind than ever, Thor shuts the workshop door and with a shake of his head, makes his way to his chambers.

He is so engrossed with his own thoughts, he doesn’t manage to catch the red headed spy lurking in the shadows, having heard every bit of conversation from her post.

Until now things had sailed pretty smoothly with the Avengers. Until now your identity has been easily covered up by half truths and diversions. That was until Loki had to come along and cause chaos as always. At least the lore surrounding him was consistent.

Taking a moment to pause and collect your thoughts, you find a way to minimize the fallout heading your way. The team was gonna find out eventually so why not get ahead of that curve. The only way to do that would be going against your better judgement. The only person that could persuade the Avengers to not completely turn you out. Maybe two people? Why would they not completely dismiss you, after all they were just a rag tag group of superpowered freaks. The amount of times you had saved their butts didn't matter, at the end of the day, you lied to people that trusted you. They would never trust you again.

So who was the better option?

Tony treated you like a daughter, always trying to cheer you up when you were down. Y'all even had a secret handshake. He would be beyond insulted that you didn't share this overwhelmingly important detail of your existence with him. Now on the other hand, Director Fury. Would he even care? As long as you were on the good guys team aka his team, he wouldn't let you be taken away. Right? Or maybe he would want to dissect you like the Hydra vermin had tried oh so many years ago.

Fury, like the team, would have no reason to believe or trust that your intentions were as true as you had once said. An impossible situation for the impossible creature you were. What a dilemma.

Shaking off the thoughts crossing your mind, you text one Tony Stank, the only contact you had listed in your phone besides- well, nevermind it’s not important. What is important is the text you’re about to send. If it’s not worded correctly, Tony would assume the worst and immediately try and track you down.

“Hey Stank-face,” you punch into the old flip phone.

“Why did I even tell you that story,” He texted back quickly.

“Because you were drunk and have no filter, duh,” you smile for a moment but quickly mask your face and continue texting Tony, “I have a favor to ask.”

There’s a brief pause before he replies.

“What’s up?” There’s no hiding your smile now, you can always rely on Tony to pull through.

“Meet me by the burger stand, next to the old warehouse at 5pm?” Nervously picking at your nails while waiting on his response, you notice a black bike peeking around the corner of the alleyway you were across from. Shit.

“Sure thing Jelly-bean, everything OK?” No, not ok but it would be. Just have to get ahead of the fallout.

“Yeah Tones, all good, just got something to talk to you about. I would like for this to stay between us for now if you don’t mind. Gotta go, I’ll see you at 5.” Taking the sim card out of the phone you toss it in the trash bin and start walking, keeping an eye on the little stalker you've managed to catch.

[wasabito]

home feels like you | naruto x fem!reader

here’s my entry for the konoha simps server collab with @bakubabes-hatake​; prompts are roommate au and “i was so stupid to make the mistake of falling in love with my best friend.” (i will be making edits to this later lmao)

wordcount: 3.0k

tags: fluff, angst, modern au, healing after a breakup

synopsis: it’s a little hard for him to describe the way he feels these days, but if anyone asked, he’d say that home feels a lot like you.

Naruto didn’t wake up that morning to the sound of his alarm blaring through the stillness, or even to streams of early morning sunlight filtering in through his curtains. Yet, he sat up in bed, shirtless, hair askew, with a dry streak of saliva at the corner of his mouth. 

Even though he searched for what had woken him up so abruptly, Naruto found nothing. 

Blinking back at him in bright neon green, his alarm clock read 5:23 am, approximately thirty-seven minutes until it was time for his morning run. Not one to miss out on the chance to get more sleep, Naruto was just about to turn over in bed, stuff his head back under his pillow and be dead to the world once more—then he heard it.

Harsh whispers and...sniffling.

The Uzumaki remained silent, sleep suddenly gone from his eyes. His gaze was trained onto his bedroom door, knowing that you, his roommate, were probably just a few feet beyond it. You’d been an early riser for as long as he’d known you and Naruto imagined you were shuffling into the kitchen to make yourself some coffee before heading to work for the day. 

This time, however, it seemed your peaceful morning routine had been interrupted by an unexpected and seemingly unpleasant phone call. 

Naruto listened close while you spoke hurriedly into the receiver, a rush of words garbled together and unintelligible due your shaky voice that pierced through paper thin walls. Even from where he laid, Naruto could tell that you were just barely holding it together; it sounded like you were a moment away from crying. 

Unable to sit still, he pulled off the covers and followed after your voice. The entire apartment beyond his bedroom was cloaked in darkness, so much so that he could barely see his own two feet. The only source of light came from your cell phone that illuminated a single corner of the room where you sat.

“Hey...you uh, you doin’ okay—” Truly he hadn’t meant to be so loud, but his voice boomed regardless, causing you to flinch. Not to mention, it sounded like he’d gargled nails just five minutes prior with how gravely his voice was. Great going, Naruto, he thought to himself.

He cleared his throat, whispering, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, heh.” 

You sat curled up on the sofa, with your phone wedged between your shoulder and ear, but it didn’t seem like anyone was talking anymore. With a sigh, you hung up the phone, plunging the room in muted darkness.

“I’m fine,” you muttered. “...don’t worry about it.”

Bypassing his curious look, you trudged back into your bedroom. It seemed he would not be getting an answer anytime soon. Naruto blinked slowly, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he reentered his room as well. But the more he thought about you, the more unsettled he became.

You had moved in with him six months ago after Sasuke left for business overseas. But even since then, Naruto still only knew as much about you as he had when he first met you, which was literally next to nothing. He could respect that you were a private person, but he still felt it was a little ridiculous that you both shared a refrigerator and he’d had to stalk your Facebook page just to find out your birthday. 

The two of you had lived as nothing more than strangers for an entire six months, but in all that time, he had never heard you sound like that...

His curiosity had gotten the better of him. Normally he wouldn't be so bothered, but with Sasuke away and Sakura busy with her own life, he was beginning to feel as if he had nothing else to steal his attention. Naruto was only now realizing how invested he was in the lives of his friends, more so than his own even. Being involved was second nature.

Two and a half weeks later, the reason behind your odd behavior made itself known. In fact, it quite literally stood at your shared doorstep. 

It was a normal Saturday night, and for once he was home instead of gaming the entire night away over at Kiba’s place. Naruto had been in the kitchen making himself yet another cup of instant ramen when a knock came at the door, shattering the evening stillness. Before he could even set down his chopsticks, you had bounded down the hall with a duffel bag slung over your shoulder. He had never seen you so upset, but your anger was unmistakable as you wrenched the door open with enough force to rattle it on its hinges.

“Here’s your shit.”

“Can we at least talk abou—”

“No!” You slammed the door shut in the face of… whoever that was.

Naruto came around the counter to stand in the hall. He didn’t bother hiding the fact that he was so blatantly eavesdropping on you. Was there really a point in hiding? 

You turned in time to catch him out of your peripheral, frown still set on your lips, though it softened a bit when you caught sight of him watching you. “You’re pretty nosy.” Was your only remark, but despite the edge in your words, it didn’t sound like you were annoyed at him, almost like you had expected it.

“Well, can you blame me?” Naruto scratched his neck sheepishly, “You were actin’ pretty weird, so of course I got curious, what did ya expect?”

You snorted. “So, that’s your perfect defense?”

Naruto gave you the goofiest smile in response. “Gimme a minute and I’ll think of a better one!”

With a laugh you slumped into one of the bar stools near the counter. You hadn’t stopped laughing at him for another minute, but then… your teetering laughter slowly turned into sobs. You shoved your face behind the palms of your hands, but Naruto could see the way your entire body shook. The sound of your crying startled him so bad, he nearly choked on his own spit. Every thought running through his mind came to a screeching halt. It was as if the sounds that escaped your mouth was set to a frequency that would break his heart to pieces over and over again. 

“H-Hey,” Naruto reached over, placing a heavy arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his chest. “It’s...gonna be okay, okay? Whatever it is, it’ll work itself out. Please, don’t cry...”

After another moment, your sobs quieted down to a whimper, your cheeks were still wet and Naruto was about seventy percent sure there was a little snot on his tee shirt. Nevertheless, he remained still until you were ready to pull away.

“Um, thanks…” you whispered, lips accidentally grazing his collarbone. Not a second later, you released him, and wiped at your eyes with your shirt sleeve. 

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I—um...I guess I owe you some sort of explanation, considering I just used you a human tissue.” 

Using humor to cope, that was familiar. 

You were trying to lighten the mood, Naruto could tell, so he went along with your joke and laughed. “Yeah, I guess havin’ you tell me is better than me playin’ spy, huh?” 

He reached for his forgotten cup of noodles. They were a little soggy after being neglected for so long, but that didn’t stop him from slurping up the entire thing in record time. 

“Ah! That hit the spot!”

You laughed again, sniffling as you did so and for a moment he was captured. 

That watery smile, the wrinkle in your eyelids, the upward curve of your lips, even the very sound you made, all of it caught him by the throat. It was almost like he was just now realizing that you were a girl. And a really pretty one, at that. Naruto gulped and looked away. He wasn’t sure what was happening to him or why he was just noticing how cute you were, but he shook his head as if to dispel some of the mental fog.

“That was my boyfriend—ex boyfriend, I mean.” 

“Ex boyfriend?” he repeated.

“Yeah, um, we kind of do—er—did the long distance thing...he lives a few cities away, goes to a completely different university so um…anyway I was just uh, returning his clothes....”

You seemed to be struggling to find the right words, likely still processing everything that had happened. At times like this, Naruto was thankful that he and Hinata had ended things so amicably. Not everyone had the luxury. Relationships were hard as it is, and when it was over, picking back up like nothing happened was nigh impossible. There was always something left behind as a reminder, be it scars, old wounds in the form of memories. Sakura had once dubbed it ‘relationship residue’.

“Hey, don’t push yourself!” Naruto offered a grin and a thumbs up. “C’mon, let’s get your mind off it. We can watch a movie, or play some music, or…” he looked around the apartment in search of something you both could do but came up short.

“I appreciate the gesture, Naruto, but I think I’m just going to head to bed early. I’m a little tired.”

You gave a small smile, and though it didn’t reach your eyes, Naruto could do nothing but watch after your retreating back yet again. 

He didn’t like the helpless feeling that latched onto him. He would always and forever be doer. He couldn't just sit idly by while you went through this hard time alone. Though he kept quiet, he was determined to make you feel better somehow. He never wanted to see you cry like that ever again.

Following that night, the dynamic between the two of you had changed. Naruto, naturally friendly as he was, made it his first priority to check up on you and see how you were doing. And instead of heading straight to your bedroom upon returning from class or work, nowadays, you spent your free time in Naruto’s company. Whether it be just by watching the evening news together or doing homework in the same area. For the first time in months, you two were acting more and more like roommates—maybe even friends. You still hadn't opened up much about your ex boyfriend, but that was okay. Naruto knew that as long as you understood he was there to support you, that you were not alone, one day you’d be able to speak about it with him.

A change in weather seemed to follow the change in pace. Winter was fast approaching and with it came colder mornings, frosted leaves that crunched under foot, and a need to remain bundled up lest one catch a cold. Naruto had just returned home to find that you had made a hot pot. The entire apartment was filled with such a delicious smell that had his mouth watering and stomach grumbling in askance.

“Hey there!” you called from the kitchen. “I just finished up, grab a bowl and get some.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Naruto quickly shrugged out of his coat and scarf, doing a little shimmy, then grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. “It smells sooo good~”

His eagerness managed to pull a laugh out of you. You quickly handed him the ladle. “Go nuts...well...not too crazy.” Knowing Naruto, it was safe to say he would inhale the entire pot if left up to his own devices, you’d come to learn this the hard way. 

“Yeah, yeah.” he said, scooping himself a hefty serving. He wasted no time at all, digging in with much gusto. “Damn!! This is hella good! You’re such a great cook, roomie.”

You were unsure whether he was merely flattering you for that sake of flattery or if he truly enjoyed the meal, but you accepted his compliments as gracefully as you could manage. 

Eating dinner like this was nice. Naruto made for good company. For the time being, you let yourself enjoy the simplicity of the moment, the utter lack of expectation, the vibrant energy that came with mutual understanding, all of it made you feel much warmer inside. You knew it wasn’t just the hot pot.

Several more nights were spent just like this, relishing the friendly companionship that was slowly being fostered between you two. It wasn’t like you had very many friends to begin with, but you could admit that Naruto was a breath of fresh air. His sunny persona and steadfast disposition always managed to brighten up your day. Most nights, he talked enough for the both of you and was a pleasant distraction from less than savory thoughts regarding your ex. It was safe to say that you rather liked being his roommate. Naruto made you feel safe in your own skin again. 

You had just returned from class when you heard Naruto fumbling around in the bathroom. He wasn’t a quiet roommate by any means, but he usually never made this much noise in the mornings. From the looks of things, he had just returned from a run, and was now showering away the sweat and grime. 

“You okay in there?” you called. There was no answer. 

Instead, the restroom door was thrust open and your roommate burst through, darting down the hall at breakneck speed, naked as the day he was born. You blinked rapidly, mouth hanging open. What...the actual hell?

“My bad!! I forgot my towel!” His awkward laugh echoed from somewhere in his bedroom. 

“You could’ve just asked me to bring you one.”

“I kinda panicked a little.”

You snorted behind your hand. “A little?”

“Okay, maybe a lot.” 

Naruto returned to where you stood, thankfully he was fully dressed, although his wet hair hung low around his face, wispy tendrils clinging to his cheeks. The water droplets were left to be caught by the towel around his neck.

“Dude, you’re gonna get sick,” you grabbed the towel and draped it over his head. Naruto was just a few inches taller, but you still managed, even if you had to get on your toes a bit, while he bent to accommodate the height difference. 

You carefully towel dried his hair as best as you could. Naruto kept his eyes solely on you. It was a little unnerving, but you did your best to ignore it, until he finally spoke up.

“How are you feeling?” 

Due to proximity, you could feel his puffs of breath fanning against your cheek.

“I’m good now, Naruto. Great, actually.”

He smiled at that. “I’m glad.”

You chewed your lip to stop yourself from smiling back but it was too late, he’d already caught a glimpse of it. 

“There you go,” you returned the towel to his open hands. “All done.”

“Thanks a bunch! I don’t think anyone’s ever done that for me before.”

You found that a little hard to believe. But Naruto was walking away before you could question him about it. You thought about the way he looked at you, how his eyes seemed to gleam as he did. It made your cheeks feel like they were on fire. 

Days later, you still thought about it even as you stretched yourself across the carpeted floors of your apartment living room in an attempt to gather your thoughts. It was a feeble attempt, and you weren’t really a yoga person, but you were insistent on doing something that didn’t fall into the category of wondering what your roommate was currently doing. And it worked for all of five minutes before you simply laid on your back and stared up at the ceiling.

That was the exact image of you Naruto walked in on. He tossed his keys on the table, left his backpack by the door, and toed off his shoes like normal, it was a routine ingrained in him by now.

“Uhh, what are you doing on the floor?” Naruto stood over your figure with a quirky grin. He was wearing a turtleneck… which was a little odd, you’d only ever seen him tee shirts and sweatpants. But it was nice. He looked nice. Wait, no—

“Why are you wearing…?” You trailed off as Naruto laid himself by your side, wedging himself between you and the coffee table.

“Nope! I asked first!” He shuffled a bit to make himself comfortable. “So, what are we doing on the floor?”

Keeping your eyes glued to the ceiling and not on the man who was getting a view of your side profile, you replied simply. “I was doing yoga at first.”

Naruto was silent. Did he know what yoga was? You were going to ask, but he beat you to it, humming an ‘oh cool’, and accepting your lukewarm response easily.

“You know...these past few months have been kinda like a dream.” 

“What do you mean by that, Naruto?”

Finally craning your neck to the side, you were greeted with the full view of him. Soft blonde hair, ocean-blue eyes, and the kind of smile that made you want to smile too. It was so hard to be sad or down in his presence, it was like he vanquished darkness with his light. God, you were sounding so shakespearean. 

Unaware of your inner battle, Naruto continued. “I grew up in an orphanage, so the thought of having a home was...a bit like a fairytale. But then I learned that people can be just as much a home as any random building, ya know?”

You did know. You knew it too well, in fact. Once you had made the mistake of falling in love with your best friend. He had become your home, only to leave you broken and abandoned. 

“Yeah...I get that.” 

“And you,” Naruto continued. “You feel a lot like what I think home feels like.”

You blinked at him, stunned, heart stuttering because you could tell he meant what he’d said. Goddamn him for being this way. For being so good.

Naruto sat up and you followed suit. “I just wanted to say thank you, Y/n.” 

And with that, he leaned forward and pecked your cheek.

[the-gay-prometheus]

Frankenstein AU Segment - “The Reunion”

Oh hey- it’s been a minute since I last posted one of these, huh? 

As I’ve kinda been alluding to, this isn’t the segment that I’ve been needing to write, but it’s the one I felt like writing over the past few days. So it just so happens that for once in my life, I’ve actually written something chronologically relevant to the last segment I posted! As in... this literally takes place almost directly after “Willful Disobedience.” 

I’ll admit I kinda rushed the ending of this one a bit, and I think it shows, but it does what it needs to do so I’m just gonna keep it as is for now.

I can’t think of any serious warnings necessary for this one, but feel free to ask me to add warnings/warning tags if you see anything that you think should be warned about!

As always, likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are appreciated and encouraged!

It was a nightmare that awoke him that dreary, stormy night. Though he knew logically that there was nothing to fear, now that the thing he had created had been missing for at least four months, still he couldn’t help but feel those same eyes watching him from the shadows. Shuddering at the thought of that disturbing dark-lipped grin and the strange garbled sounds that had roused him from his slumber on the fateful night of its creation, he lay awake in bed and stared up at the ceiling. “You have nothing to fear,” he muttered aloud, repeating the phrase in his mind hoping that maybe if he said it enough times, it would be true. Yet a sudden bolt of lightning and crash of thunder caused him to yelp and hide under the covers, trembling in a cold sweat. Only one thought eased his troubled mind, and though he resented the idea of once again bothering Henry so late at night, he felt he might go mad if he stayed in his room alone for any longer.

When he silently opened the door to Henry’s room, he fully expected to find him asleep - instead, Henry was sitting upright with his journal and quill in hand. He had been staring out into the storm, but as Victor opened his door his attention snapped away. Though at first he appeared surprised, the expression of shock faded into one of concern. “Another nightmare?” he asked quietly, shutting his journal and setting it along with his quill aside. Victor didn’t answer, simply nodding silently while standing shakily in the doorway. Henry moved over on the bed, and gently pat the place beside him, gesturing for his dear friend to come sit with him. Victor unsteadily strode over, sitting in the place beside Henry but turning his face away. “Do you… want to talk about it?” Victor shook his head, clinging to himself and holding back tears. “Is there anything I can do other than just… be here?” There was no reply from Victor except a sniffle and a shrug of his shoulders. The pouring rain pounded at the glass of the window like some unwanted stranger begging to be let in, a deafening sound in a moment of silence between the two of them. “Would it… help to be held?” Victor gripped at himself tighter and clenched his eyes shut, shuddering as he nodded. When he felt the warm embrace of Henry’s freckled arms wrapping gently around him, something inside him shattered and he burst into a fit of sobs. Henry gripped him tighter, hushing him softly as he wept. Another roar of thunder caused Victor to jump and grab hold of Henry, clinging to him as though his life depended on it. They stayed tangled in each other's arms until Victor’s sobs turned to quiet sniffles, and the rain turned from violent downpour to a gentle, steady fall. When Henry released him, he sat back and reached out, carefully wiping the tears from Victor’s pale cheeks. “Better?” he asked with a kind smile and compassionate gaze. Victor nodded, sheepishly smiling himself, though his smile quickly faded and he shuddered at the thought of once again being alone with his thoughts.

“Better for now, yes, but... would you mind if I stayed the night?” he asked, his voice still hoarse from crying.

“Not at all! Bring a blanket and make yourself at home-” He paused, his eyes suddenly filled with concern. “Are you ok going back and grabbing one on your own or…”

“I’ll be fine,” Victor answered, waving his hand dismissively and hopping down from the bed.

What happened then was a blur, a faded memory with only fragments remaining. He ran after exiting Henry’s room, back to his own to quickly grab his favorite wool blanket and nearly panicked at the sound of a tree branch tapping and scraping at his window, Somehow from there he ended up back in Henry’s room, making a cozy nest for himself on the floor where he decided he would sleep for the night - complete with extra pillows that Henry provided him with, and it was there with his blanket wrapped tightly around himself that his eyes began to close. When they opened, however, he was no longer on the floor but instead lying in bed next to Henry, who slept soundly with his face turned away. Victor’s eyes opened wide at the sudden realization that somehow, in his sleep, he must have climbed up into the bed. As he tried to remember why or how it happened, his memory flashed with tiny glimpses at some other horrifying nightmare, and he realized all at once that in his fright he must have come to Henry for comfort, only to find him sleeping. He stirred, slowly trying to move toward the edge of the bed, but as he shifted, Henry turned in his sleep, now facing him, and he froze. Unwilling to wake his host, Victor lay perfectly still, moving only to shift back to laying with his eyes to the ceiling. He stared upward, but he felt no fear there lying next to Henry. His breathing was slow, his heart calm, and his mind at peace. Yet still, he found himself entirely unable to sleep. Henry shifted and murmured something beside him that sounded like it might have been a name - his name. Victor turned his face toward him, partially curious to see if Henry had awoken or was beginning to wake, and soon turned his entire body on his side to face him as he realized his eyes were still closed and his expression was that of someone peacefully sound asleep.

Something about that moment took Victor’s breath away. He had long known that what he felt when he was with his dear friend was something far deeper than a general platonic affection, but the pieces of his affections suddenly seemed to click together as they lay together in simple silence. His brown eyes began to well with tears once again. “I have searched so long for greatness and power, hoping that it might fill some final void within me,” he whispered, though he knew Henry couldn’t hear him, “yet all this time, all I needed to feel whole was this - just to be here, just to be with you.” He turned himself onto his back again, staring upward as tears slowly streamed down his face. “Why can we not just stay like this? Why can we not just be this - be us?” His gaze fell back onto Henry, and he felt a dull pain from deep within him that throbbed with every beat of his heart. “Would you even want that? Or is this wrong? Am I wrong?” Henry shifted in his sleep, and it seemed for a moment that his eyes might dare to blink open, which frightened Victor into silence at the thought that he may have just bore his entire soul to his most trusted friend. He didn’t wake, though, instead simply heaving a soft sigh in his slumber as he went entirely still once again. The sky outside began to lighten as the first rays of sun peeked over the horizon and filtered through the window, some soon resting upon the fiery waves of Henry’s hair and revealing the dormant ember-like brightness that had been concealed by the darkness of night. As dawn passed, Victor stayed staring at his dearest friend’s fair face, and as he stared he reached out, tracing the air over a cluster of freckles with a smile. “Andromeda,” he breathed, recognizing the latest in a series of constellations he had discovered over the years. He wanted so badly just to reach a little further and touch him, as though he were afraid that maybe it was all some illusion, some cruel trick that he could be so close and yet so far from where he wanted to be - from who he wanted to be. Instead he retracted his hand with a gentle sigh and lay there in silent wonder, letting his mind wander with visions of what could be, or what could have been. Henry stirred beside him once again, his eyelids twitching. Victor felt himself freeze again. What would he say? What would he do? Would he be angry? Would he pull him closer? Would he do nothing at all? From the corner of his eye he caught sight of a tall shadow on the wall beyond, looming ominously. He felt his stomach churn and his heart race with both fury and fear, until suddenly everything stopped. Everything was still - too still. “This isn’t right,” he whispered to himself. “He wasn’t there.” Just as Henry’s eyes slowly opened, he blinked.

Tiny shafts of sunlight filtered through miniscule cracks in the wooden log walls, illuminating particles of dust that floated through the air. Victor squinted as his eyes opened. For a moment, he smiled, half expecting Henry’s hazel eyes to be gazing back at him, but instead there was the bare wood of the cabin walls and the small stream of light that aligned directly with his sight and blinded him despite its meager size. He pulled his wool blanket over his face with a groan to block out the light, and though he tried to close his eyes and go back to sleep, there was an aching in his chest that kept him awake. Though he knew it was impossible, he kept hoping and wishing that somehow, some way, he could simply will Henry into existence there with him. Finally growing exhausted of his pining, he slipped out of bed, pinning his blanket around himself as a cape, and stepped out of his room. The creature lay sleeping soundly on the floor in front of the fireplace, that being the only place he ever slept despite having a room of his own. Victor paused, staring down at him for a moment, suddenly envying him. After having been calmed from another night terror, the creature seemed so peaceful and at rest in his sleep, while Victor seemed to be cursed only to dream of memories that pained him and made him feel all the more lonely and lost, twisted and changed by fears he so desperately tried to suppress. Cautiously stepping over his creation’s outstretched leg, he made his way to the door and stepped outside into the light of dawn. At first he shielded his eyes from the light, but as they adjusted, he strode toward the edge of the ledge and paused just before the rock dropped off into a steep cliff, just so most of his feet were still on solid ground though his toes hung over the edge. It was a dangerous place to stand, especially with the strong breeze that pushed its way through, but the danger of it was the last thing on his mind as he stared ahead, his hands clasped behind his back.

A feeling of homesickness flooded through him, though he couldn’t quite discern what it was for. Was it for Geneva, for the lake and the forests and the view of the mountains from below? Was it for the home and family he left behind so many years ago? Or was it just for Henry himself- He shook the thought from his head. "That's silly," he muttered aloud. "You can't feel homesick for a person." Yet when he thought about his soothing voice as he read some ancient poem or story, or the way he held him when he was scared or sad; when he thought about the way he could paint a picture with words or tell a story through sketches, that feeling of homesickness only grew more prevalent. In his heartache, he hadn’t heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind, nor had he heard when they stopped, followed by the clattering of a walking stick and pack being dropped to the ground. Instead, it was a voice that broke him from his thoughts, sending both a wave of heat and an icy chill through his veins.

“Victor?” He turned his head, and swore he was hallucinating. Standing there bathed in the golden light of the morning sun was the exact person who had been consuming his every waking thought. In a moment of something between blind panic and overwhelming joy, Victor thoughtlessly fully turned to face him while stumbling backward - except there was nothing to stumble back on. One foot slipped from the edge of the cliff, and he flailed his arms, trying to push his balance onto the one foot that still remained on land despite that one beginning to slip as well. Just as he was about to fall back to what would most certainly have been an inevitable death, a hand grabbed one of his flailing arms by the wrist and stopped his fall. He glanced back as fragments of stone tumbled off the cliff, falling through the air until they could no longer be seen. His breath caught in his throat at the thought that he could have just perished due to his own carelessness, but when he looked back up he felt his heart flutter. Henry was staring down at him with a look of both terror and relief in his eyes, wisps of his orange hair that had escaped being tied back drifting over his face and catching the sunlight like thin streams of fire, gleaming and shifting in vibrant shades of auburn with each waving motion of the breeze. 

“H-hi Henry,” Victor managed to stutter breathlessly as he gazed upward with wide eyes. The grip on his wrist tightened and he felt himself blush, so he turned his head away as Henry hoisted him back up onto solid ground, only to blush harder as his friend suddenly pulled him into so tight of an embrace he thought his frail ribs might crack. Though it was slightly painful, the sudden rush of euphoria from being once again wrapped in Henry’s arms overrode any pain he felt. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to laugh, or cry, or maybe both at once, but whatever the case, he clung to Henry tightly in return, silently hoping that this was in fact reality and not just some waking dream. Henry pulled back, placing his hands on Victor’s shoulders as Victor reluctantly released him.

“My dear Frankenstein,” Henry murmured. The words shot straight through Victor, words he had been longing to hear for the months he had been away, words that only Henry ever spoke, and he felt as though he might faint at the mere sound of them.

“It’s… it’s been far too long,” Victor managed to whisper, leaning his head to one side and resting it on Henry’s hand. Henry returned the gesture with a comforting smile.

“It has,” he concurred, seemingly searching Victor’s face for answers to some unspoken question. Victor looked back up at him, his own eyes wandering for want of answers, and as he stared, his gaze turned to a sudden look of confusion and concern as reason and logic began to overtake his senses.

“How did you find me?” He paused, then stepped back and pulled fully away from Henry’s touch. “Why aren’t you still at Ingolstadt?” Henry shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m taking time off,” he answered simply. “After you left I was so worried - about you and your family, I guess - I just… couldn’t keep my focus on my studies, so I decided it might be best to come home and take a break.” Victor was about to reply, but went silent as Henry suddenly went rummaging through one of his pockets and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “As for how I found you,” he began, waving it in the air, “I got your letter!” Victor gave him an odd look.

“...Letter?” Henry unfolded it and looked it over.

“You don’t remember sending this?” Victor thought long and hard, trying to consider all of the possibilities - maybe he had sent something and forgotten? Or maybe he had written and sent something in some daze of confusion and lost all memory of it? Neither made much sense, but they were the only answers that seemed to come to mind.

“Not to my knowledge, no.” He reached out. “Do you mind if I take a look?” Henry laughed as he shook his head.

“Of course not! You’re the one that wrote it, after all,” he replied as he placed the letter into Victor’s hand. Victor read it over, growing more confused and concerned with himself. Henry was right - it looked exactly like his handwriting and the tone of voice in the letter seemed to match the tone he so often used in his typical letters to Henry from his time in Ingolstadt before that same fateful day that he arrived there. “Whatever the case, whether you wrote it or not,” Henry began, smiling and resting one hand back on Victor’s shoulder. “You have no idea how delighted I am to see you again.” Victor hid his blushing behind the paper as he inspected it closer.

“More like you have no idea how delighted I am to see you again,” he mumbled. The letter certainly seemed flawlessly his own creation, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t recall when, or frankly how, he would have sent it. “When did you say you received this?”

“I… hadn’t said, but it was yesterday evening.” Victor’s expression became even more contorted with confusion, and Henry himself began to worry. “Is there something wrong?”

“Henry… I never wrote you a letter.” Henry stared.

“I’m not sure if I should be more offended or concerned by that sentence, but I think the answer lies somewhere in the middle.” The thought that he might have offended him sent a twinge of guilt through Victor, and he glanced up with a sigh.

“That’s not to say I didn’t want to write to you. It’s just… I can’t leave this place. It’s a long story.”

“You did mention that in the letter, something about how you were unable to leave. That’s part of why I left as soon as I received it - I figured you might be in trouble, but you look perfectly well, other than perhaps a bit thinner than usual.” 

“That’s just it-” Victor began, looking back down at the letter. “If I’m stuck here, then how would I have gotten this letter to you?” Henry thought for a moment.

“Well, it was delivered by someone who wished to remain anonymous if that makes any difference. Perhaps there was someone who had come here that you forgot and had asked to deliver the letter?” Victor shook his head.

“Impossible. I would have known if someone else had come. There’s no one here except me and-” He paused, his eyes catching on to something strange, a pattern in the way each character was written. He knew his own handwriting - it was sloppy at best, yet typically at least legible, and he never wrote one letter the same way twice. That was the problem, though - the handwriting looked nearly identical, yes, but it was too perfect. Each letter, though sloppily written, was written in nearly the exact same style, as though it had been copied. It was such a small detail, something he himself with his ever observant eyes barely caught on to, but it was enough to alert him that he was right - he never wrote a letter. “It was forged,” he said out loud suddenly. Henry took the letter from his hands and gave it a closer look. “You know my handwriting, Henry. It’s imperfect. I’ve always complained about how imperfect and inconsistent it is. But this? It’s…”

“Perfectly imperfect,” Henry muttered, finishing his sentence for him. “Now that you mention it, I see what you mean. How fascinating… whoever wrote this put a lot of time and care and effort into trying to make it look and sound like you, and certainly nearly managed to achieve it.” He folded the letter back up and returned it to his pocket, but as he did, he repeated Victor’s own words in his head. “Did you say there was someone else here?” Victor didn’t answer. He barely heard him, as he became lost in his own thoughts, trying to decipher who had written it and how it could have been delivered, and how the author would have known his whereabouts.

Perfectly imperfect, he thought to himself. Perfectly imperfect… His eyes went wide and he felt as though his blood was draining to his feet as he went pale and his stomach seemed to twist itself in knots. “Perfectly imperfect,” he repeated aloud, as though in a trance. Henry gave him a concerned look, and reached out, taking his hand gently.

“Victor? Is there something wrong?” Victor trembled, then suddenly tore his hand away and made his way over to the belongings Henry had dropped, gathering them up and placing them back into Henry’s hands.

“You need to leave,” he demanded, his tone hoarse yet dark. Henry blinked.

“I’m… are you sure?”

“Yes I am sure.” He wasn’t sure - but all he knew was he suddenly felt a surge of fear and fury rising through himself. Henry stared, seemingly analyzing him, then gently placed his things onto the ground again.

“No you’re not-”

“Yes I am,” Victor interrupted. His breathing quickened as his heart began to race. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to appear as calm as possible, he rested a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “You need to leave, Henry. You’re not safe here.” Henry’s hand dropped to the rapier he kept sheathed at his side.

“Victor, I can protect myself - you know that. Whatever it is, rest assured, I will be fine.” He reached up, placing his hand over Victor’s hand. “What I’m more concerned about is you and your safety.” Victor looked away, refusing to meet his gaze. “Why are you really here?”

“I told you, it’s a long story,” he uttered, his voice almost like a low growl as he suddenly pushed Henry back. “One that I don’t have the time to tell. Go, Henry. Leave, and don’t come back - for your own sake.” Henry stumbled back as Victor pushed him, and though he desperately wanted to refuse, he sighed and began retrieving his things.

“If that’s really what you want, then I’ll go,” he answered quietly, trying to hide the sorrow in his voice. His tone sent Victor’s mind reeling and a sudden shock of pain in his heart, but he strengthened his resolve and continued to hurry Henry along. Exhausted from his journey and now pained by rejection, Henry trudged along, until out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of something that made him stop and raise his head. It was the cabin he saw, quaint and carefully constructed of logs likely found from the mountain forest. “Oh!” he exclaimed, causing Victor to pause as well. “Did you build that?” he asked, glancing back toward his friend.

“No- well- I- It’s not important. Time to go,” Victor grumbled, pushing at him again. Henry stepped away from him, nearly causing him to fall forward, and walked toward the little dwelling with curiosity.

“It’s… nice, actually,” he complimented, looking it over and glancing at his surroundings. “Must be pretty wonderful to be living in such a beautiful place with such an incredible view.”

“No, it’s a living hell of my own creation. Come on, Henry,” Victor pleaded, grabbing hold of his arm and trying to pull him away. Just then, the door to the cabin creaked as it opened, and Victor froze. He dared not to look, and a million scenarios raced through his mind. Had that demon lured Henry here to hurt him? Would Henry attack it out of fear of its hideousness? Would it attack him back? Panic began to course through him, but as the door closed, it wasn’t chaos that ensued, but instead Henry’s kind voice and cheerful disposition that rose over the mess of disastrous thoughts that tumbled around in his head.

“Oh, hello there! And who might you be?”

[sweetiepie08]

RebelZ (Chapter 9)

Invader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn, @agentpinerulesall​

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list feel free to message me. Also, if you’re on the tag list and you changed your name, please just let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10.

[-]

“Care to tell us what the fuck that was?” the Dib shouted as they ran down the hall.

“A coup, obviously,” Zim shot back. “Just not one where you seize power at the end. So, half a coup.”

“So then who seizes power now?”

“The Tallest Red and Purple still have it,”

Dib nearly tripped over his own feet in his shock. “You mean you didn’t kill them?”

“It’s nearly impossible to poison an Irken,” Tak explained. “The PAK filters out most toxins. You can incapacitate them, though, for a short period of time.”

“So you basically just quit your job in spectacular fashion,” Dib said indignantly.

Tak almost couldn’t believe it. Zim must be sincere in his betrayal. He poisoned the Tallest and declared to the entire upper crust of the Irken military that it was intentional. There was no coming back from that. Every other disaster he caused could reasonably be argued as a mistake. But there could be no doubt here. Zim truly had turned on the empire.

Yet, something still didn’t sit quite right with her. If he had gone rebel, if he had truly turned traitor, then his life clock would have gone off like hers did. One would reasonably assume the impotence for this betrayal was her discovery of the Control Brains parasite, but she was with him ever since she told him that news and she never saw his life clock go off. But that could only mean something else prompted him at an earlier date. So the question was, what made Zim finally snap?

They came to a split in the hallway. Tak started going right while Zim went left.

“Uh, the Voot is this way,” Tak called.

“I’m not going to the Voot,” Zim yelled back. “I’m going to the control room.”

Dib and Tak cast each other a glance, then followed him. They found him crouched behind a door at the end of the hall and joined him in his hiding spot. Dib took a peak inside. There, dozens of Irkens worked at their stations. They seemed unaware that, for now, their leaders were incapacitated.

Zim tapped his PAK and a metal ball flew into his hands. He pulled a pin, tossed it in, and smashed the control panel, shutting the door. They heard coughing from the other side and, after a few minutes, opened the door to find the Irkens unconscious on the floor.

“So, what are we doing in here again?” Dib asked, as they stepped into the room.

Zim grabbed one of the Irkens who still slouched in their chair and threw them to the floor. “Wiping Urth off the navigation map.” He sat down and the monitor and started messing with the buttons. “If I’m going to continue to use it as my home base, I can’t have them finding it.”

“Not so fast,” Tak slapped his fingers away from the buttons. “Before this goes any further, I need answers. If you’re truly on our side, there’s only one way your life clock didn’t go off.”

“We don’t have time for this!”

“You had a rebellious thought!” Tak declared. “When?”

“Three Urth years ago.”

“Three years?” Dib shouted, stepping up to them. “But I’ve been watching you. Why were you still trying to conquer Earth if you kinda-quit three years ago?”

“I wasn’t.”

“But I saw you building machines!” Dib argued.

“They weren’t for me!” Zim shot back.

Tak began to ask “But how-” before Zim cut her off.

“Silence!” he shouted. “Silence your questions! I need to concentrate.”

Zim continued typing on the buttons until a picture of the Earth appeared on the screen. The stats were scarce, save for the coordinates and the note, ‘that place where Zim is.’ The little blue ball of dirt and water had gone unnoticed by the empire, noteworthy only as a banishment site. To them, it was merely a place to keep Zim contained, far away from anything important. But after the stunt they pulled today, it would be a target.

Another few clicks of a button and the Urth was gone, leaving only a blank file in its wake. All Irken military ships automatically synced with the Massive. If it was gone from this data base, it was essentially invisible to all Irkens. If they wanted to find Urth again, they’d have to scour the universe for it. But why stop at Urth?

“Let’s dump it all,” Tak said.

“What?”

“Erase the database,” she said. “It’ll be a crippling blow to the empire.”

“Do we really have time to erase everything?” Dib asked. The human made a good point.

“Jut the maps then,” she suggested. “They would have to rebuild their navigation systems from scratch and it would send the fleet into disarray.”

“Zim is no radical!” Zim snapped. “I’m only doing this to cover my own ass.”

“Not a raical?” Dib scoffed. “You just poisoned your own leaders.”

“That was personal,” Zim argued. “This is political.”

“And what about those weapons you’re building?!” Dib shot back. “If they’re not for Irk, then who are they for?”

“Zim’s business deals are none of your… um… business!”

“Shut up!” Tak commanded, taking a seat at another monitor. “We don’t have time for this! Let’s get these maps erased and get out of here.”

“If you even make it that far,” a chorus of voices answered.

Dib looked around. “Who said that?”

“We did, human.”

Every Irken in the room rose to their feet. Tak prepared herself for a fight. Her eyes darted as she watched them all, poised to deploy the weapons in her PAK. But none made a move to attack. They all stood there, stalk still, with a dead look in their eyes.

Dib gaped at the sight. “H-how are you…”

“Silence Urth Creature!” the possessed Irkens shouted in unison, turning their cold eyes toward Dib. “Do not interrupt us again!” Dib shut his mouth and the Irkens calmed. “Congratulations defectives” they said, now addressing Zim and Tak. “It’s been centuries since we had to resort to total override, but mark our words, you will pay for this waste of food.”

“What do you care for waste?” Tak spat back at them. “You throw Irken lives away every day in your conquest.”

“A calculated cost to bring me more to feed from in the long term,” the Irkens explained with their eerily monotone voices. “You should know about calculated risks. Don’t forget, we see everything you do.”

“When have I ever sacrificed good soldiers?”

Every possessed Irken in the room wore the same mocking smirk. “All through your training days. Don’t you remember? We saw everything you did, every little cheat to get ahead.”

The Irkens tapped buttons on their control boards and soon, every monitor showed various scenes from Tak’s training years. “Electrodes hidden in your boots to cripple race opponents. Stealing test answers and planting them in a rival’s locker after copying them for yourself. You got top scores on your exams and excelled at your drills, but is it really victory if you have to sabotage your competitions? Oh sure, you studied and trained, but it never felt like enough, did it? Never thought you could win a fair fight. Had to tear someone else down first. Maybe, if it weren’t for all your cheating, we’d have let you make up your Elite ranking test. After all, we allowed everyone else who was inconvenienced by the blackout to take it.” Their smirks grew as they twisted the knife further. “Just not you.”

Tak ground her teeth together as she watched the images play out on the screen. There was no denying them. The monitors played footage from her own memory bank. They showed her and everyone else who she really was. She work so hard. She clawed her way to the top and did everything she could to stay there. But it was all a lie. And now they knew it. What was worse, Zim knew it. That little pain in the ass managed to make it to elite the first time, even while being a walking disaster, and he never had to deliberately cheat. The idea of him lording that over her was enough to make her blood boil.

“Perhaps you can prove everyone wrong, though,” the Irken voices went on. “Take the honest route for once in your life. Tell Zim what you learned on your little trip to Refirencee. Tell him what you suspect.”

“Fool!” Zim scoffed. “Zim already accessed Tak’s memories. I know everything she knows about the Control Brain parasite.”

“Yes, you saw the same books. But did you reach the same conclusions?”

“Guys! Don’t you see what it’s doing?” The Dib burst in. “It’s distracting you. It’s keeping you here until your leaders recover. Let’s erase those maps and get out of here!”

“Silence!” Zim snapped at Dib, then turned back to the dead-eyed Irkens. “Tell Zim what you know, creepy hive-mind…thing!”

“Have you ever wondered why you’re such a failure? Why you destroy everything you touch? Why, no matter what you do, everything always blows up in your face? It’s because you have no choice in the matter. It’s what you were made for.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Before we push for something big, we require extra sustenance. We take this sustenance in what some have called a blood toll. On our first planet, we made many mistakes, one was asking our hosts directly for sacrifices. We know better now.”

“Ans what does this have to do with me?” Zim growled impatiently.

“Since the beginning of our reign, one PAK has been passed down through generations, carrying a suppressed impulse for destruction. We need only to activate it and we have our blood toll. Clearly our PAK has become quite damaged over the years. It no longer works quite right. You’re so defective, you couldn’t even declare your name right.”

The screen flashed the name Zim across it. It then reversed the letters and spread them out to reveal an acronym. ZIM became MIZ. And MIZ became Massacre Initiator Z.

“You were supposed to live as a low-ranking drone until we activated your destructive impulse and die in the disaster. You, however, defied us at every turn. We kept you alive out of sheer curiosity. We wanted to see how your life would play out. It’s been entertaining, however, you’ve become too great a burden to bare.”

Zim stood motionless, staring straight ahead. They waited for the typical Zim outburst of “lies!” or declaring his greatness, but nothing came. His eyes looked as dead as the possessed Irkens around them. He said nothing, did nothing. As much as Tak couldn’t stand Zim’s obnoxious voice or erratic behavior, watching him be so still was chilling.

Tak’s antenna perks at the sound of footsteps trooping down the hall. The Dib’s head darted for the door. “Guy! Come on! We’re out of time!”

Tak smacked Zim’s lifeless body away from the control panel. “Do you think you can stop us by getting into our heads?”

“Oh simple Tak,” the Irkens sighed. “We've lived in your heads since you were fitted with your packs.”

Tak sneered at them. “I cut you off for me and I won't rest until every Irken is free of you.”

“Please, you worked your whole life to get our attention. You finally have it. Do you want to throw that away? Perhaps we can find a place with someone of your drive and ingenuity.”

“Liars!” Did they think she was stupid? She knew as well as it that treason of this scale would never go unpunished. Even if they tried to appease her with a higher rank or a cushy job, it’d only be a matter of time before they got rid of her. But even the fact that it was trying to negotiate meant something. She was a threat to it, and she would stay a threat until the day she died.

“We you know you, Tak. You’re a plotter. You won't do anything rash.”

They don’t know me half as well as they think. “Want a bet?” She started hitting buttons on the control board. An alert came up on the screen and the voice blared from the speakers. “All maps queued for deletion. Are you sure you want to proceed?”

She hit one more button and the screen went black. “Deletion successful.”

“Take that you parasite bitch.”

“Come on,” Dib begged, pulling on her arm. The footsteps were noticeably louder. “We have to go now!”

Tak took off running and Dib pulled on the frozen Zim until his legs moved. They burst into the hall and immediately came across a group of Irkan soldiers. “There they are!” one of the soldiers cried.

Tak led the way as they ran toward the ship’s hanger. The soldiers fired at them. A laser cannon popped out of Tak’s pack and returned fire, but it was difficult for her to aim while leading the dash to the Voot. She wished one of her companions had could back her up with a pistol but Zim was still barely conscious and Dib was preoccupied with keeping his legs moving. The sound of little metallic feet running beside them gave her an idea.

“Zim, tell me your SIR unit to go into defensive mode.

There was no response. Zim was as helpful as a sack of empty ginzor cans.

“Hey Zim’s robot,” Dib said to the little SIR unit.

Gir looked up at him curiously. “Hmm?”

“Don't you have any weapons or something?”

“Huh?”

“You know, something that makes pretty lights and goes ‘pew, pew’?”

“Oh that. I got that.” A giant laser cannon popped out of his head and he fired wildly into the soldiers behind them, forcing the Irkens to scatter for cover

Finally, they made it to the hangar and all jumped in the Voot. Zim slid zombie-like into the pilot seat.

“Come on,” Dib said, shaking Zim’s shoulder. “Get us out of here!”

“Zim!” Tak snapped. “If you don't fly this ship, I will!”

That seemed to work. Zim shook off whatever stupor he was in and his usual look of single-minded determination returned to his eyes. “No one pilots Zim’s ship but Zim!” He took hold of the controls and the ship roared to life. In a flash, they took off into the stars.

[aspenflower17]

Finding You (Part 18 of ??)

Hey everyone! I 'm probably going to get the rest of this chapter out... Friday? My brain just won’t focus today and I wanted to get something out today :)

If you are new here and want to read from the beginning, here is the link for Part One. I also have links to all the parts on my Masterlist, which is pinned to the top of my page :)

Taggles: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @mammonismyfirstman​ (If you want to be added to the tags list, please just ask to be added below or you can always DM me :) )

Satan/F!Mc

Word Count: 3,172

TW: angst

“I have just done the impossible,” Mc announced, feeling very satisfied.

“Huh?” Satan asked, blinking as he put his book down.

Mc sighed, and flopped on him dramatically, “I just went to petition for our son to stay from the evil overlord, and you couldn’t even greet me for my victorious return?”

“I’m sorry, but you’ll never guess what just happened in… Wait… He agreed to it?!”

Mc beamed up at him, holding a paper, “He just asks that you sign this to lay some ground rules down.”

“I knew he’d do something like this,” Satan huffed, folding his arms, “It’s like he doesn’t trust me.”

“Well, not to play devil’s advocate,” Mc laughed a bit at the expression, “But you did fill the house with cats last time you were allowed to have one. I can understand his… reservations on the subject.”

Satan frowned, looking away from her, “So, even you agree with him?”

“Well, obviously not about everything. Otherwise I wouldn’t be trying to make him let us keep Leo. I can sympathize with not wanting your house overrun with animals. Especially when you’ve already got so many trouble makers already in the house… Am I wrong?” she asked at his frown.

Satan sighed, “I guess not.”

“Just think of it this way. If you can prove to Lucifer you can be responsible and take care of Leo, you might be allowed to keep another cat down the road.”

“You need to stop making such good points Mc,” Satan huffed a laugh, his irritation gone.

“Hmmm… I think I need to continue to make great points actually. Okay, while you look over the contract to make sure Lucifer doesn’t have something up his sleeve, I’m going to go tell Leo the good news.”

“He was upstairs last time I checked,” Satan called over his shoulder as Mc went off in search of the cat. She took the stairs two at a time, having gotten used to climbing them since Leo came into their life. Coming to the top, her eyes scanned the area for him, “Leo! Leo, where are you?”

A small meow announced the presence of said cat, coming out of nowhere, as usual. He started twining between Mc’s legs, looking up every once in a while to meow at her. Once she stopped, Mc laughed, picking him up. He adjusted his paws until he was hugging her as usual, purring the whole time, “Oh baby boy, did you miss me? I know I missed you. But, you’ll never guess! Lucifer said you could stay. Daddy’s looking over the rules right now to make sure they’re acceptable, but after that you’ll be able to stay here! No more roaming the streets in search of your next meal, though you’ll be allowed out obviously. You just have to promise you’ll come back,” Mc started scratching between his shoulder blades, eliciting an even louder purr, “Oh, it’s been awhile since I had a cat. I forgot how soothing purring is,” then whispering conspiratorially, “You’ll be so good for Satan. Speaking of which, let's go downstairs and see him.”

Satan was frowning slightly at the document, his reading glasses having materialized out of nowhere. Mc was sure he didn’t actually need them, seeing as how he was a near immortal being, and suspected he only used them as a tool for intense studying, but she was never going to complain. He looked so good with them on. She shifted Leo to one arm, and took out her phone to snap a photo of Satan. She loved that they had a relationship where they could just snap photos of each other without the other thinking it was weird.

Satan looked up at the camera sound, and reached for his polaroid, “Say cheese.”

Mc laughed, posing with Leo. The photo soon emerged, and Satan smiled as he watched the photo start emerging, “Another one for the drawer.”

“So, what’s the verdict?” Mc asked, coming closer to stand next to Satan. Leo wiggled a bit, so she put him in Satan’s lap, where he circled a couple times before curling into a ball.

“It seems… reasonable enough at first glance. I’ll have to go over it in more detail later, but I think you did it.”

Mc grinned and threw her arms over the back of Satan’s chair, giving him a hug from behind, “I’m so glad. Not only does Leo get a home, now you have someone to keep you company while I’m back at home.”

Satan’s hands grabbed her arms, pulling them even tighter to himself, “Do you really have to go?”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she smiled, kissing the top of his head, “I could never stay away from you for too long. Plus, I need to make sure to keep Diavolo happy. Otherwise I won’t be able to return at all.”

“I should petition him to let me go with you.”

“You have a job to do down here, Darling. Plus, I don’t want to see what would happen if you got stuck in rush hour traffic. I think you might be able to come visit me though.”

Satan sighed, kissing Mc’s hand, “Only if Lucifer allowed it.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to convince him,” Mc smiled, moving down to kiss Satan’s cheek, his soft hair tickling her nose. 

He turned his head, eyes soft, a little smile gracing his lips, “Just don’t stay away for too long.”

“I promise,” Mc smiled, looking straight into the eyes.

~~

Mc awoke a bit abruptly, though it wasn’t unpleasant. That was until a wave of loneliness suddenly crashed down, causing her eyes to open, though they were reluctant. The soft light in the room allowed her eyes to adjust rather quickly, revealing the demon she’d been dreaming about, “Mnh, Satan?” He was standing closer to her than she would’ve expected. She extended her arm, to grab at his hand, “Is that you?”

“It is,” he answered softly, accepting her hand in his. The loneliness instantly disappeared, “Did you have a bad dream?”

Mc relaxed instantly, “Mmmm… No. It was a really nice dream actually.”

“I’m sorry you had to wake up then.”

“Mmmm, is okay. It’s nice to wake up and have you here,” she answered truthfully, sleep turning her filter off.

Satan’s eyes went wide, and his grip on her hand tightened and then went rigid, “Really?”

“Mmmhmm,” she answered, closing her eyes.

“Hey. You probably shouldn’t fall asleep again. It’s getting kind of late and you still need to get back to the castle.”

“I can’t just stay here?” Mc asked, yawning loudly, “I don’t want to go back. I like it here.”

”I’m afraid not. I don’t think Luke or Michael would like that very much.”

“... I guess you’re right,” Mc sighed, forcing herself to sit up. The blanket on her body fell down, and she frowned at it, her sleep addled brain trying to think, “Did I grab a blanket?”

“Oh, that was me. I know my room can get pretty chilly so I wanted to make sure you weren’t too cold.”

Mc blinked at the kindness, her brain clearing, “Oh my… I fell asleep. I’m so sorry! I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I promise it’s not because it was boring or anything. It was really lovely actually. I hope-”

“Hey, hey. Please don’t worry yourself Mc. I feel honored you trust me enough to fall asleep in my presence,” he smiled kindly.

Mc felt her cheeks grow warm, and looked down, “Still. It’s rude to fall asleep when spending time with someone.”

Satan chuckled and squoze her hand, “You can fall asleep around me if you’d like. You really don’t have to worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. If I’d had a problem with it I would have woken you up earlier.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right. Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course Mc,” Satan smiled again, and Mc felt her heart jolt a bit, “We should probably get you back to the castle soon.”

“R-Right.”

~~

Mc sat at her desk, writing in the notebook usually reserved for her art ideas. She’d need to get a new one soon, but this would have to do for now. Now that she’d had time to think everything through, she was starting to piece something together. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she had the feeling it would lead to what she’d been searching for this whole time. 

Let’s see, there’s all these dreams… Though, should they even be called that? Are they prophecies? It’s not deja vu, as the situations don’t feel like they’re repeating. Just a sense of familiarity. I might even be able to write it all off as a dream if it weren’t for the fact that Satan’s room was the same as that other dream I’d had, and I’d never been there before. There’s obviously something going on and I need to figure out what it is. Mc looked down at the sheet in front of her realizing she’d been drawing the whole time she’d been thinking. She was a bit flustered when she saw it was Satan when he’d been holding her hand. She shut her notebook, that strange feeling when Satan had smiled at her earlier flitting around in her chest. She had written off the feeling as residual embarrassment combined with relief that he wasn’t upset. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

A knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts, “Mc. Are you in there?”

“Just a moment Diavolo,” Mc called out, putting her notebook under her pillow. She felt the strong need to hide what she was doing, though she couldn’t quite figure out why.

She opened the door to his wide smiling face, “I was wondering if you would like to join me in a game of chess?”

“Oh. Sure, if you want. I’m not very good at it though.”

“That’s alright. After all, how is someone supposed to get better at something if they don’t practice?”

“Very true. I just didn’t think you’d be interested in playing against someone who’s not at your level.”

“Who’s to say I’m above your level?”

“Well, generally when people own a chess set they’re above my level,” Mc smirked.

“Fair enough,” Diavolo laughed, gesturing for Mc to follow him.

~~

“So, what’s on your mind?”

“That, not only are you a gracious winner, but that you’re even more skilled at this game than I first thought. It takes skill to bring your playing down to novice level without making “mistakes”.”

Diavolo chuckled, moving another piece, “I wouldn’t say you’re a novice. You’re doing quite well.”

“I’d have to disagree with you there, but thank you anyway.”

“If I’m as skilled as you say, wouldn’t I be better qualified to assess your skill level than yourself?”

“I suppose,” Mc hummed, wondering what Diavolo was getting at.

“Satan is pretty talented when it comes to chess as well.”

Mc paused in moving her piece, “Is that so?”

“Yes. He’s probably the most tenacious player I’ve ever met. Though he’s never beat me, he’s gotten very close before.”

“Ah.”

“That attitude is what made him who he is. His desire to grow and learn is one of his defining characteristics. Though it’s probably not a fair comparison, he has grown and continues to grow the most out of all his brothers.”

“Why would you say it’s not fair?”

“Because they already had defined personalities when they Fell. Certain characteristics were obviously enhanced or repressed turning from angels to demons, but they’re essentially the same beings.

“Satan is a different story. Though he came from Lucifer and has memories of the Celestial Realm, all he really was in the beginning was wrath, the most literal embodiment of his sin I could imagine. I’ve been around a long time, and I’ve never met another being like him. He is truly unique. I watched all the brothers adjust to their sin, figuring out how they would represent their sin. They’ve all struggled in their own way, but Satan’s struggle is of a different kind. He’s had to learn how to go against everything he was to become something more.

Which brings me back to my point: It’s probably not fair to compare his growth to his brothers, but he continues to grow and learn from his mistakes, while the others seem to have… stagnated a bit.”

Mc nodded as she surveyed the gameboard, though her thoughts were more on their conversation. She had so many questions about Satan, many ones she didn’t feel she could ask him...

“So, anything else on your mind?”

“Only if you’re offering answers.”

Diavolo looked Mc straight in the eyes, “Ask away.”

Mc blinked a couple times, “Umm… Of course I can’t think of anything really pressing now.”

“What’s the first question that comes to mind?”

“Well, I guess since we were talking about it, what was his last period of intense growth?”

Diavolo cocked his head, “Interesting question. Besides right now?... Though it’s not a happy memory, probably the grieving period after she died.”

“Do you mean the girl he wrote the song for? Mammon told me a little bit about it.”

“How much did he tell you?” Diavolo asked slowly, eyes searching hers.

“I would guess the basics? He said he’d loved a human, and after she passed away, he played the song one last time and then said he’d never play it again, but then he did at the dinner party. He also mentioned he hadn’t dated anyone before or since her.”

“I suppose those are the basics,” Diavolo sighed, moving another piece on the board.

“Can… Will… You tell me about her?” Mc asked, the question feeling more important than it had when Mammon had first mentioned it.

“Hmmm… I think my hands might be tied wen it comes to that question,” Mc felt an unexpected wave of disappointment wash through her at his answer, “But, I sense there’s more to that question than what you asked.”

“I… Maybe?” Mc answered, her reaction shocking her. Even so, she couldn’t dispel the feeling.

“What made you ask the question?”

“I… It seems important,” was the only thing Mc could think to answer with.

Interesting. Well, checkmate, and with that, it’s time for me to head to bed. Goodnight Mc.”

“Oh, you’re right. Goodnight,” Mc answered, though her thoughts were far from the game that sat in front of her.”

~~

Mc sighed for what felt like the eightieth time that night. What could Diavolo have meant by all that? He was obviously hunting at something. The problem is, I’m not sure what it is. Though, why do I care about her? It seems more than me just being concerned for Satan’s well being. He’s obviously feeling better about the whole situation with her, seeing as how he played that song.

Mc replayed her memory of him playing the song in question, and found herself questioning that assessment. If he truly was feeling better, wouldn’t the longing in his voice have lessened? He had laid all his feelings bare, and the truth was, he wasn’t over her.

A stab of jealousy attacked her heart, making her blink a couple times. She went back to the memory in question, only to find the whole thing tinged in the sin. She retreated further into her head, far from the feeling. She sat up, grabbing the glass of water from her bedside table, hands shaking. As she tried to put it back down, her fingers loosened too much and she almost ended up spilling the rest of the water. Sighing the eighty-first time that night, she grabbed the book off the table, opening it and trying to drown out her feelings.

~~

“Is there something wrong with the food?” Barbatos asked, stepping forward to refill Luke’s glass with whatever tea he’d decided on serving them.

“Everything tastes great. I’m just not hungry this morning,” Mc smiled weakly, before returning to pushing the food around her plate. Attempting to make the butler feel better, she took a bite of the pride cake he’d prepared. It had actually become a favorite of hers, much to the delight of Diavolo who couldn’t seem to get enough of it. Today however, it reminded her more of glue than anything else.

“Are you feeling alright Mc??” Michael asked, “You’ve seemed… off these past couple days.”

“I just haven’t been able to sleep lately,” Mc answered, “I’ve just hit a snag in my art.”

“Maybe you should take some time off today then.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I have the day free, and I’ve wanted to talk to you about something,” Michael tried again.

“Actually, I’m just going to head out to clear my head.”

Michael narrowed his eyes, “Well, I do need to talk to you sometime soon.”

“Sure,” Mc answered, relieved he wasn’t going to push the situation further.

~~

Mc wandered aimlessly, willing the sounds of the Devildom to drown out her thoughts, but she seemed to have opened some sort of floodgate in her thoughts. Angels were known for their extreme restraint when it comes to their own feelings. During the process of becoming an angel, there was a sort of damper that was put on their feelings. Supposedly it could be turned on or off at will like a switch. Many angels went their whole existence without turning the switch off. Mc had seen Simeon when his had been off, usually when he was writing, so she knew it existed. She also had some control over her switch, but she had a feeling hers didn’t work quite as well as other angels. She’d theorized that’s why she could create art as readily as she did, and why it seemed humans related more to her art than her fellow angels. When she was younger, she figured it would develop more once she got older. It hadn’t however. She might have had an easier time covering up how she actually felt, but the control wasn’t there.

Now however, it seemed like she had no control over it, relying on outside influences to help her from feeling like she was losing her mind. Among her newfound jealousy at center stage, she could feel her anger at Michael hiding in the eves of her mind. There was also a confusion that seemed to be seeping into everything else she did and was, lighting the whole scene. She had no idea what had changed, but she wished it would stop. She was getting a headache. No wonder humans sometimes went crazy.

“Mc? Is that you?” A familiar voice called out to her.

“Hey Mammon. What are you doing here?”

“Jus’ got outta RAD for the day. What’re you doin’ here?”

“Oh, I’m… trying to clear my head.”

“So wha’s botherin’ ya?”

“What?”

“You’re havin’ a hard time right? I can see it all written all over your face,” Mammon smiled kindly, “Come get some ice cream with me.”

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

Hehe ^_^

Part Eighteen and a Half

[whumpywhumper]

Asleep I’m Alone

Whumptober 2020: No. 11 PSYCH 101 Defiance | Struggling | Crying 

@whumptober2020

Again, I’m just jumping around in cannon now, but this is after rescue and after the identity reveal

Masterpost

Tagging: @misspelledwitch @insanitywishes @imagination1reality0 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @voidwhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @walkingchemicalfire @captivity-whump @liliability @muumimafia @fanastywhump @elisabethrosewrites

Special thanks to @0idril0 @rosesareviolentlyread for keeping me sane and my confidence boosted :) 

TW: Drugged whumpee? It’s for his own good; Intubated whumpee

V***V

Markus didn’t want to sleep. 

If he slept, then he was back with Lucien. Alone. 

The drugs were pulling him down though, the empty reserves of strength that he’d been drawing from pushing him forward on whispy fumes. 

Please, please, I don’t want to. I don’t wanna be alone, please. 

He stared up at Clint, tears blurring his already unfocused gaze, and clung to his hand. Trying to communicate, begging him to not make him sleep, not to let that opaque darkness take him and swallow him up. The dark was where Lucien could find him, where he could come and drain him again, bite him again. Possess him even as he fought to free himself of the overwhelming and suffocating clutch of the vampire’s hold on him. 

Clint didn’t understand. He wasn’t there when Markus was asleep. He didn’t want to leave the comfort of his friend. 

He didn’t want to go. Please, Clint, please don’t make me go. 

Exhaustion tugged sharply on his eyelids, and they slipped closed to bury him in an unfathomable dark. His heart turned over in his chest, and he surged up with a jerk, his eyes flying open to see where he was at, to see what new horror had overtaken him while he gave in. His eyes roved, latching onto Clint’s face, and he could see the pain there, the were’s brows drawn together while his eyes flared with that steady golden yellow. 

His big hand smoothed over Markus’s hair, and his deep voice rumbled through Markus’s chest as Clint tried to soothe him. “I’m not going anywhere Markus, shhhh, you’ve gotta calm down, please brother, please,” Clint squeezed Markus’s hand gently. “Shhhhh, I know you’re scared, Hun’, I know, but you have to rest, okay?” 

Markus wanted to sob, but the tube in his throat made it impossible. 

<~> 

Markus was fighting sleep with every ounce of determination his exhausted body could summon, holding onto Clint’s hand like it was a lifeline. 

The terror and desperation seeping through the bond had Clint almost in tears, and he leaned closer to his friend, his hand brushing through his dark hair, smoothing it away from his forehead again and again as he tried to get him to settle. “It’s okay, Markus, I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He shook his head, hating the way that Markus’s green eyes pleaded with him. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe, and I’ll be right here when you wake up, nothing is going to get to you while you sleep, I promise.” 

The witch tightened his hold around Clint’s hand, his weak grip implacable as he practically begged Clint through the empathic bond, more tears, precious as diamonds, sliding down his temples. Clint hated this, that he couldn’t do anything to help his friend who was so clearly terrified, but there was nothing for him to do but try and comfort Markus. Every time the other man woke up, there was this fear in his expression that was all consuming, his eyes flicking across every surface until he saw someone he recognized and the fear settled into something weaker. Clint understood that he was disoriented, that he didn’t always know where he was at, but there was nothing else he could do to keep him oriented other than being there for him when he woke up. 

In his periphery, he could make out Anna, one of Markus’s nurses, as she sidled into the room. She was eyeing the monitors with enough concern to have Clint’s breath catch.  He caught her eye, and she shook her head. If Clint couldn’t get him to calm down then she was going to have to increase his meds.

“Markus, Sugar, shhhh,” Clint leaned in until their eyes were level, not even a foot of space separating their noses. “You’re gonna feel better when you wake up, okay? I know you’re tired, just sleep, nothing can hurt you, okay?” 

Markus turned from him, agitated, reaching toward his face and the tubes there. 

He and Anna both surged forward at once, catching his clumsy hand and gently restraining him. The heart monitor and the ventilator both gave a high pitched, vicious warning shriek, and Clint winced, feeling his own heart plummet with worry. “Fuck, Markus, fuck,” he cursed, his voice softening on the second curse as Markus’s eyelids fluttered, his body relaxing slightly against the pillows. Even that small burst of movement was too much, and Clint could see the strain in his vitals as Anna’s shook her head again.   

Doggedly, Markus’s half-lidded eyes searched out Clint’s, and the frustrated, angry fear he’d been sending through the bond turned into a pitiful yearning. The witch shook his head, struggling weakly against Clint’s restraining hand, reaching for his chest. Clint let him, and Markus’s hand clutched around the grahm under his gown, holding the metal and charms tightly. 

“I’m sorry, Bud, I’m so sorry, but I’m here and nothing is going to hurt you, okay?” Clint swallowed roughly, wishing he knew what was wrong, wishing he could do something more to make his friend feel better.  He didn’t let his gaze leave Markus’s, trying to impress upon the other man that Clint wasn’t going anywhere, that he was safe. He would figure this out, once Markus was safe, wasn’t hurting himself anymore. Even without breaking his gaze, he could see Anna messing with the pumps at the bedside, and he squeezed Markus’s hand. “You’ve got to sleep, Sweetheart, don’t fight the meds okay?” 

There was another bubble of fear as the medication hit Markus’s system, but it didn’t take more than a few more seconds and his bruised eyelids slipped closed, the race of his heart slowing as the tumult of his emotions quieted. Clint shuddered, breathing out a choked, shaking exhale as he pressed his forehead against his friend’s. “Fuck, Love, what’s wrong?” he whispered under his breath, sniffling quietly. 

Anna’s slender hand came to rest on his shoulder, her thumb swiping back and forth gently. “He’s on a lot of different medications, Clint, and he’s been through a lot.” Her voice was soft, soothing. She was a lot gentler than Catrina, but no less vicious when it came to taking care of Markus. “He’s probably having some really strange dreams—it’s just making him agitated, okay? You’re doing great with him, I’m sure it’ll taper off once he gets a little better.”

Clint straightened, looking at her with wide eyes. “Strange dreams?” 

She nodded, her eyes sad as she looked down at her patient. “Yeah, painkillers are notorious for giving people nightmares, and with everything he’s experienced. . . I don’t want to know what he’s dreaming about.” 

“I could kiss you,” he said, the words flying out of his mouth without filter as exhaustion and relief made him giddy. 

Thankfully, Anna laughed. “Okay, can I ask why?” 

“Cause I think I know someone who can do something about dreams.” Anna shook her head, but she’d become used to the odd things that Markus’s friends said and just left as Clint picked up his phone, dialing Theo. Markus’s coven sister would have something to help, he was sure of it.  

<~> 

The next time Markus woke, it was with the normal lethargy of medicated sleep. He shifted slightly on the bed, and Clint held his breath as his eyelids fluttered, but there was none of the stark terror from before. His green eyes took their time focusing, but the wolf watched as his gaze was drawn down to where Theo was asleep next to Markus’s hip, hand wrapped around Markus’s wrist, hiding the new charm from his gaze. She’d exhausted herself making the charm, the magic convoluted and ephemeral, something even Theo wasn’t sure how long would last. 

But it was a start.

Markus didn’t fight this time, settling back to sleep quickly, not even seeing Clint in the corner of the room. 

[mulletcal]

hi Sarah 🥺 can I get fluff #2 and general #2 with luke, please?? thank you!

SHELBI I AM GONNA LOSE MY WHOLE MIND i screeched when i saw what these ones were.

there’s a luke piece i wanna write that’s similar to this ~vibe~ so i’m excited to give it a go.  also this is kind of a double whammy cause i’m not v good at writing luke (for some reason i can’t characterize him as anything other than an asshole when i know he’s most def not sdaujdas), and i’m not the best w angst but I felt tlike this called for angst. so have 1.3k of angst w a happy ending

“It’s you, it always has been.” “It’s pouring rain why are you here?”

***

Luke didn’t realize how jealous he was when it came to you, until it drunkenly came out at Calum’s party.  You had brought your boyfriend, a man you were well aware didn’t get along with any of the guys, and that from the get go had Luke’s blood boiling.

You knew how Luke felt about you, he was never subtle when it came to hiding his feelings, but you thought it was just him trying to get over his ex, and you were someone that was there for him and held him when he cried, so he misplaced his feelings of friendship for feelings of romance.

The longer the party went on, the less of a filter Luke had in regards to his comments to your boyfriend.  The final straw was when your boyfriend had been admittedly rude to you, Luke snorted into his red solo cup and said “Is he really the best you could do? Truly thought you had some standards.”

“Luke!” You frowned, “Meet me in the kitchen.”

With a phony smile tossed your boyfriends way, Luke stumbled into the kitchen behind you, beginning to search in the fridge for a snack Calum may have had stowed away.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Lookin’ for a snack.  Oop, found one,” He slurred, poking you on the nose.  You grabbed his wrist, and the look in your eyes may have sobered him for a brief moment, because he let the fridge door shut, blue eyes boring into yours. “What do you want me to say? I wasn’t kidding when I said I thought you had standards. That guy is an ass.”

You scoffed, letting Luke’s wrist drop, “And when was the last time you listened to me about anyone you dated? Maybe you wouldn’t have ended up crying on my couch the last time a girl dumped you if you had listened to me.”

Judging by the look on Luke’s face, you had taken it too far.  You knew you had too, it wasn’t Luke’s fault his last girlfriend sought attention wherever and whenever she could get it.

“I see,” He sucked his teeth, “Well, when this asshole ends up breaking your heart like he inevitably will, don’t come crying to me.”

With that, he was gone.  Out the front door and down the street before you could even process what had just happened.

After that night, Luke didn’t speak to you.  You thought maybe once he sobered up that the two of you could talk, and you could apologize for your harsh words, but the phone never rang.  And when you would try to call, it went straight to voicemail.

At the start of the third week of Luke’s silent stand off, you broke up with your boyfriend.  He seemed to be getting distant, and you knew in the back of your mind that when guys you dated started to get distant, they would be finding comfort in other places.  So you were alone, again.  Usually the time could be spent with Luke that you couldn’t spend with a boyfriend, but that seemed to be off the table as well.

One month hit, and on that rainy day you received a text from a friend asking if Luke was dating someone new.  Confused, you asked her what she meant and she sent you an article she had seen of Luke out for lunch with a girl. You felt the jealousy bubbling up inside of you, almost impossible to push away now.  You missed Luke, you missed his smile, his laugh, the stupid way he would dance as he waited for a muffin to heat up in the microwave.  And at that moment it hit you like a ton of bricks: you were most definitely in love with Luke, and you had to at least tell him and get it off your chest, or else it would kill you.

It took you most of the day to work up the courage of what you wanted to say, and you still weren’t 100% sure of how it was going to come out of your mouth if he even answered the door.  When you arrived, you walked up the steps to his door, knocking with all the power you could muster as the rain chilled you to the bone.

When Luke opened the door, the look on his face was rather unimpressed.  His blonde hair was a mess, beard looking more grown in than in the pictures you saw earlier that day, and his outfit indicated to you that he may not have left his bed at all that day.

“It’s pouring rain, why are you here?” Luke asked, his tone matching his facial expression, which definitely deflated your confidence a little bit.

“I…” You stuttered, looking down at your hands, when you looked back up, Luke’s eyebrows were raised, waiting for an answer.  “Please, Luke I’m so sorry.  What I said… I didn’t mean it.  I was just hurt because you were telling me the truth, and I was too proud to see it.”

“You don’t think it was humiliating for me to lay on your couch for a month, barely able to move because I felt so empty inside?” The volume of his voice cut through the rain, startling you.  “If I had known I was being such an inconvenience to your life, I would have just suffered at home.  As you can see, it’s been going well for me this time around.” He gestured to his appearance, letting out a sarcastic laugh.

“I never thought any less of you for the way you needed to cope.”

“Really? You have a funny way of showing it.  Boyfriend finally dump you?”

“No, I dumped him.  As I’m sure you know, we weren’t exactly a right fit.” The rain was fully soaked through your clothes now, leaving you shivering on his doorstep.  “I miss you, Luke.  And I fully understand that I have no right to miss you, but I do.  I love you… I always have, and didn’t realize it until it was too late… But I need you to know that it’s you, it always has been you. I can’t get enough of the way when you laugh it lights up an entire room, the voice you use when you want attention from Petunia, how you’ve grown to love the cheesy 80’s movies I made you watch.  I was too stupid to see that you didn’t just like me because you wanted a rebound, you loved me for me.  So, I guess what I want to say is--”

Luke cut you off by cupping your face and pressing his lips desperately to yours, “It killed me not to talk to you,” his voice was soft, but you heard every word, your hands clinging to his shirt which was quickly becoming soaked in the rain.  “It’s not a loved past tense, I still love you.  That didn’t go away because you hurt me, but I needed space to try and get over you.  Let me tell you though, that’s impossible.”

“So that girl…”

“Oh God, I should’ve known that would set you off.  That’s someone new who works for management and she wanted to take the time to get to know us individually for whatever reason.”

You breathed a sigh of relief against his lips, tugging him in for another kiss, “I love you, Lu.”

“I love you too, idiot.  Now come inside so we can put on some dry clothes and you can tell me about how that douchebag reacted when you dumped him.”

tag list:  @talkfastromance4 @calmlftv @notinthesameguey @irwinkitten @yikesguys @blackbutterfliescal @treatallwithkindness @another-lonely-heart @karajaynetoday @bestyearssos @cheekysos @suchalonelysunflower @aquarius-hood1996 @wildflower-cth @ashtonlftv @youngblood199456

[ortizobsessed]

The Best Gift

This one was requested by @xx--day-dreamer--xx​!

Reader x Juice where you throw a surprise party for Juice with the help of the club.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1911

Masterlist

Today was the day! It was Juice’s birthday, and everything you’d been planning the last couple weeks was finally going to happen. Though you two weren’t “official” your relationship was definitely flirty, and you wanted to do something special for him to show how much you care.

Many ideas had been tossed around during your discussions with Gemma about just how much Juice should know. “If I pretend to forget his birthday, he’s going to know something is up,” you admitted. “He knows I’m good with dates. I’ve had to remind him to wish some of the other guys a happy birthday before.”

Gemma laughed and shook her head, “Oh that boy...why does that not surprise me?”

Smiling along with her, you two agreed that at least you should acknowledge it was his birthday. That way you would be able to keep him busy during the day while everyone else set things up at the clubhouse.

“It’s really sweet what you’re doing for him. He’s going to love it- and you.” Her words calmed you, while simultaneously making you more nervous.

“Oh gosh, I hope so.” You felt your cheeks flush, and Gemma winked at you knowingly.

When you woke up that morning, the first thing you did was call Juice. You couldn’t wait to start the day! You had planned quite a few things that you knew he would love. Dialing his number, it felt like the phone rang for ages. He answered the call, and it was impossible to miss the excitement in his voice, “Hey! How are you sweetheart?”

Your stomach was full of butterflies at this point, you loved it when he called you that. “It’ll be better once I get to see you, birthday boy!”

You could practically hear his smile through the phone. “Back at you! And thank you!”

You smiled to yourself, and suggested, “I’ll come pick you up in a half hour?”

“I’ll be ready.” You heard him pause, as if he was going to say more, but he stopped himself. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.

“Great, I’ll see you soon!”

Pulling up in front of Juice’s house, he was already waiting for you on the front step. You put your car in park, turned it off, and hopped out. Walking across the lawn, you met him halfway, and reached your arms out to him. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he pulled you close and you mumbled against his chest, “Happy Birthday, Juan.”

He hugged you tighter and replied, “Thank you so much, Y/N.”

“Well, we should get going! We’ve got a full day ahead of us!”

The smile on his face made your heart melt.

You two spent the day going from place to place, doing anything you could think of that Juice would love. Everything from breakfast at his favourite café, to a matinee at the movie theatre, and a trip to his favourite electronics store. You knew he had been eyeing up the newest first-person shooter game that was set to come out in a couple days. You had pre-ordered one and gift wrapped it, then convinced the store manage to keep it at the store for Juice. He was more excited than you had expected, thanking you profusely for it.

Watching the time almost religiously, it was getting close to 6:00 and Chibs would be calling any minute. Just then, Juice’s phone rang.

Back at the clubhouse, Jax whistled to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, okay, everyone quiet down! Chibs is going to call Juice now!” The room went silent. It was actually rather impressive just how quiet a room full of people, all with very large personalities, could be.

You could hear Chibs’ accent through the phone. “Hey Juicy Boy, look uh- Clay wants us all in chapel in 30. Needs to discuss something important that came up today. Has to be dealt with soon as possible.”

When Juice hung up the phone, it took everything in you not to give away the fact that you were in on it. “Chibs?” Juice nodded. “What did he want?”

“Looks like we’ll have to push our supper plans back a little bit. Clay called a meeting so I have to head to the clubhouse for a bit.”

“Aww man, I’m sorry. It has to be today?” You hoped he couldn’t hear the slight tremble in your voice.

“It sounded pretty urgent. You know how it is, the club comes first.” His words tugged at your heartstrings, but you knew it was all going to be worth it, so you stuck to your plan.

“I get it. Shouldn’t take too long right? I could just come with you, hang out there for a bit, then we can head for supper as soon as you’re done?”

“Yeah it shouldn’t take more than a few minutes, and I would like that!”

Trying to play it cool you added, “Perfect! Besides, I’d like to visit with everyone for a bit. I haven’t seen them in a while!”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said as he reached his hand out to you.

You noticed the strangled smile on his face, so as you walked hand in hand towards your car, you asked gently, “Everything okay?”

Hesitating momentarily, he answered honestly, “Yeah- yeah, I’m good. Just a bit of a bummer, I think they forgot about my birthday. But hey, I’m not that great with dates either, huh?”

You laughed softly, and looked up at him, “It’s not your strong suit, no,” making him laugh along with you.

Pulling into the parking lot of the clubhouse, you were pleased to see the parking lot no more busy than usual. You knew Gemma would have made sure everyone understood that they needed to park on the street, or better yet a couple blocks away, so Juice wasn’t tipped off that something was going on.

As you walked towards the clubhouse, you found your hand in his once again. “Sorry this had to interrupt our day, I was having a good time! But thanks for tagging along, I’m glad you’re here.”

You couldn’t hide the smile on your face, but you and Juice had a playful relationship, so you replied slyly, “Actually, I’m really only here to see the other guys.” You shrugged your shoulders and tried your best to suppress a laugh.

Juice gave you a knowing look, but decided to play along. “You know, I had a feeling you were only using me to get close to Tig.”

Unable to hold it in anymore, that full laugh of yours came out. You hated your laugh, but Juice loved it, and he was always so good at bringing it out of you.

“Come on,” you sighed, “Let’s get you into that meeting so we can go for supper sooner.”

Juice held the door open for you, and once inside he looked around curiously. “Where is everyone?”

The excitement was really starting to get to you, and all you could do was hope that he didn’t look you in the eyes, cause you knew that would be the end of it.

“I don’t know-“ you paused for a second to gather yourself, “maybe they’re already at the table waiting for you?”

Juice hummed, “Yeah, maybe.”

He looked over at you, and you were convinced the look on your face had given it all away, but he continued, “Okay well I’ll head in. Be out in a bit!”

Either you were a better actor than you thought, or this boy was totally oblivious; your money was on the latter. Whatever the reason, you were glad you hadn’t spoiled the surprise this close to the payoff.

You didn’t think it was possible for so many people to pile into that tiny room, but somehow they made it work. As Juice opened the big doors, you made sure to be within a few steps. In no time at all, the lights were being flipped on and everyone yelled, “SURPRISE!!”

The look on Juice’s face took your breath away. It was a better reaction than you ever could have hoped for. All you wanted was for this loyal, self-less and caring man to know that people needed him, too. You were more than confident you had accomplished that.

Lyla and Opie’s kids were right at the front, noise makers in hand. Tig and Happy has insisted on confetti, so they were standing on either side of the door, throwing the tiny pieces of paper they hand-cut themselves, at Juice.

As Juice did his best to take it all in, you could see tears welling in his eyes. He looked over at you and asked lovingly, “Did you do all this?” Words escaped you, so you simply nodded, and tried your best to fight back tears of your own.

Juice motioned for you to come closer, so you took a few steps towards him and he reached out to you. Placing his arm around your shoulder, you leaned into his side and slid your hand around his back.

Everyone started filtering out bit by bit, each stopping to wish Juice a Happy Birthday. Jax and Tara were the last ones to leave the room, giving each of you a hug on their way out.

Juice breathed in deep and stared at the floor for a second, before looking up at you. “Wow,” was all he found himself able to say.

“So...I hope you like surprises,” you teased, making him laugh.

Moving his arm from around your shoulder, he kicked the doorstop out from under one of the doors that someone had propped open. You took the hint and stepped into the meeting room.

You two were alone once again.

“You know, I was pretty excited to go out for supper with you,” he confessed, a hint of humour in his voice. “Lying to me about food is a tough one to recover from.”

You laughed and asked, “How ever will I be able to repay you?”

Staring up at Juice, you could tell the gears in his mind were turning. As if ignoring everything inside him that said it might be a bad idea, he placed his hands on either side of your face and gazed into your eyes lovingly. “I think I have an idea.”

Your hands found their way to his waist, pulling him closer, and the soft smile you gave him was all he needed.

He leaned in, kissing you tenderly.

The kiss didn’t last long, but it was full of passion, desire, and relief; finally.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you two looked at each other for a short period of time before you broke the silence. “So- this morning- on the phone-” Juice gave you a puzzled look. “As we were saying goodbye- I don’t know- maybe it’s all in my head... I just- I thought maybe you were going to say something else. Were you?”

He hesitated, then smiled. “Honestly?” Laughing softly, he confessed, “I was- uhh- I was going to say- I love you.” Your eyes grew wide, and a huge smile spread across your face. He added, “I want you to be my Old Lady.”

You responded playfully with the somewhat cliché, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Kissing him once more, you whispered, “I love you too,” against his lips, and you felt him smile.

“I’m pretty sure this is the best birthday gift anyone has ever given me.”

[ravens-rambling]

Just Keep Swimming, Just Keep Swimming

A/N: Some morreeee

Soulmate September! by @tsshipmonth2020

aanndddd

100 (G/T) prompts!!! - Rise

summary: Two partners have been looking for their last soulmate for years, and they finally found him in the least likely of places. 

WC: 1,645

ships: Romantic Roman x Patton x Janus

warnings: Scarring, Mention of wounds, People being treated like animals, Neglect

Tag List: @punsterterry @stormcrawler75 @frostedlover @mycatshuman @mutechild @panicattheeverywhere15 @overlord-winter @analogical-mess @saddestlittlebabe

~

“Roman… you really don’t have to get the fish for me, it’s okay. Let’s just go home, alright?”

“But you said you really wanted this fish! And so I’m gonna get it! Don’t worry, this next one I’m gonna win, just you wait!” He tossed another ring towards the gold center and he groaned when it hit close to the edge but completely went off course. “Dammit! This thing is ringed! I swear it is! But I don’t care, my boyfriend wants that fish and I’m gonna get it for him!” He slammed down another dollar. “More rings! Now!”

Patton had to chuckle softly at that, he always loved how headstrong Roman could be at the simplest of things. He definitely won’t be this determined about one game if he was Roman. And he knows that…once Roman is fired up nothing will stop him until he gets what he wants. So he knows they’re going to be here for a while.

Luckily, the very next ring he tossed managed to go around the middle golden pole and they both cheered. The carny behind the counter even looked surprised, and Patton knew that it was rigged for sure.

But once they finished cheering they were handed the small bag with the supposed fish inside. But the water was so murky that neither of them could see inside. However, they both were too happy to care right at this moment and they thanked the staff member before heading out. It was getting rather late anyways and they both have work tomorrow. They thought they could have a cute date to the carnival while they have half a day to waste. And they had a blast.

Once Roman started driving, however, Patton looked down at the bag and frowned. “Uh… Roman? Are waters for fish suppose to be this murky? I can’t see anything in there… Are you sure they didn’t just give us a bag full of old water?”

Roman paused and he snorted, “Well if they did then I’m gonna sue. I spent twenty dollars on that one game! It may not seem like much, but we could’ve gone to a store and bought a fish there for that much! Course, that game was obviously rigged so… who knows really.” He sighed but once he came to a stop he reached for the bag and looked underneath. “Oh, wait, I think I see a bit of a gold tail on the bottom here, you see that?” He pointed and Patton looked at the bottom too.

“Oh, yeah… I see it. Huh… then maybe he’s just shy. Well, once we get inside you look in the attic cause I know we had an old fish tank from a few years ago stored up there and I’ll get everything else ready? And I’ll look up what type of water a goldfish needs? Oh! And we gonna come up with a name for this little guy! Once we see him properly then we can name him!” Patton reached over to kiss Roman’s cheek. “Thank you for this, Ro-Ro. Your so amazing.”

“Mhm, sounds like a plan. And no problem, Patty. How could I say no to your adorable face?” Roman purred back and kissed him before the light went green and he started driving again.

What they didn’t realize is that their second soulmate timer on their wrist…just went to zero.

Once they got inside Roman went upstairs to look for the tank and Patton was already looking up about the filters and such for the goldfish. Luckily the filter they had before would work perfectly, so he started gathering everything up that he could and making space for the tank. After that, he went upstairs to help Roman search, and after quite some time of searching around, they did indeed found the tank. They brought it downstairs to clean it and the filter, then they poured water into it and waited for it to be filled up. And once it filled up they gently tilted the murky bag into the new freshwater. They saw a golden thing dart down into the water and hide behind one of the huge plastic grass they had. They didn’t see what it looked like, other than a dull golden tail…

“Aw… he’s just shy! Let’s leave him alone for the night to get used to his new home! And let’s go to bed, we have work in the morning.” Patton kissed Roman’s cheek and giggled as he rushed upstairs. Roman chuckled and followed right behind him.

That morning they had found that their second timer had gone down to zero last night, it must’ve been at the carnival. So their soulmate was with them at the carnival! But there were so many people there it would’ve been like trying to find a pin in a haystack! Patton had suggested going back to the carnival tonight, and they would be really crunching it in terms of time, but it won’t be impossible… so that was their plan tonight, and needless to say that they both were so excited. They’ve been looking for their last soulmate for years! And they had just passed their soulmate last night!

The moment they got off work they headed straight to the carnival and split up to search around. They’ll know if they have found their soulmate if their timer starts glowing faintly. But they searched for hours and…nothing…

Patton was the most bummed out, he really wanted to meet his last soulmate. And even Roman had to admit that he was…sad. Very sad.

Every day they went to the carnival to try and see if they could find their soulmate. And every day was…no luck. They were starting to think that their soulmate won’t be coming back to the carnival and they truly lost their only chance at finding them… to make matters worse the goldfish they had gotten hasn’t come out of its plastic grass for days! Ever since they bought him the little guy hasn’t even come out for food….they were starting to think that the little guy died.

So, all in all, it really wasn’t…a good few days for either of them. It felt like they both had the poorest luck known to man…

That was until one day came along that changed it all for the better.

Roman was cleaning up the house while Patton is at work, he figured he could straighten up some while he’s gone. He was cleaning up near the fish tank when he started hearing weak hurt whimpers of pain. It was so quiet and dull that he had to strain his ears to listen, but it was there. He looked around and looked under the table…nothing. It sounded like it was coming…from in the tank? What?

Slowly his pale brown eyes turned to face the tank, and what he saw there made his eyes widened and a loud gasp coming from his mouth.

Trapped under some decorative shiny rocks…was a golden tail. But it wasn’t any normal golden body of a fish. No, this little guy had the tail of a goldfish but…the body of a human! That’s…a merman! And a very stuck and hurt merman!

“Oh, dear! Oh dear, I’ll save you! Hang on!” Roman didn’t even think before he dipped his hand into the tank and gently lifted up the rocks, he tossed them aside out of the tank then he gently scooped up the tiny little golden merman and rose him towards his face. He was so tiny that he couldn’t even fit fully in the palm of his hand.

“Hello there… Woah… your so gorgeous…”

This merman had light brown curly hair that stuck to the sides of his face. And he was skinny… very… very skinny… Roman is certain he could see the little thing’s ribs! The poor thing had…a lot of scars too, the most noticeable one was the burnt scar covering half of his face, it went from his nose all the way down his neck and shoulder. That side’s eye was pale white, and it was clear to Roman that he was blind in that eye. The rest of his body was covered in burns and other tiny scars. And…he was so tiny…he must’ve been only a few inches tall!

And…another thing…the merman looked terrified while being in Roman’s hand. He was panting heavily and trying to scoot away from his face. So, Roman gently placed him back inside the tank.

“Woah, woah, I’m not doing anything to you, little guy. You have some cuts there but I don’t think you need any bandaging. But I’ll keep an eye on it anyways, it could get infected. You really are beautiful…”

Roman saw a faint glowing gold in the corner of his eye and blinked. What is… but when he looked down to see his wrist, his timer that went down to zero a few days ago, was glowing this dazzling gold color that is an awful lot like the scales of this merman…

“Oh…. Oh, my God…” Roman whispered and looked back at the small creature carefully. He looked at the other’s wrist, and if he squinted he could see…there’s a timer on his wrist too. And it was glowing red, he even had another timer below that one. And both of those timers were on zero! Even the creature looked shocked as well.

Roman couldn’t believe it! That’s why they couldn’t find their soulmate again in the carnival! That’s why it took them years to find their third! Cause it was a merman all along!

Frantically Roman dashed off to find a phone to call Patton, leaving a very confused and startled tiny merman in his sight. The multicolored eyes of the merman glanced down to his timer and swallowed.

“Maybe all humans aren’t so bad after all…”

[alottanothing]

Left to Ruin: Chapter Eight

Summary: With no better plan, Nouke risks returning to the palace of her youth, hoping her friend is still the kind boy she remembered. 

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 5853

Warnings: Some slight aggression because Kahmunrah is a piece of shit, other than that it’s mostly lighthearted fluff.

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe​, @r-ahh-mi​, @theultraviolencefan​, @hah0106​, @rami-malek-trash​, @diasimar​, @sherlollydramoine​, @flipper-kisses​, @ivy-miranda-2390​, @txmel​, @sunkissedmikky​, @concentratedsassandcandy​, @babyalienfairy​, @edteche2​ (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N:  The reunion chapter is finally here! I hope you guys enjoy this one--it’s one of my favorites of the whole story. As always, thank you all so SO much for the likes and reblogs and the comments. Your comments fill me with so much motivation and I cherish the hell out of all of them. 💕 Again, as a disclaimer, I am not an ancient Egyptian expert and google only knows so much. So yeah, I took so historical liberties while writing this to make my life easier, but tried to keep it as “authentic” as possible

The next morning, Nouke woke on the rooftop with an odd sense of calm for the first time in what felt like years. When she found sleep in the few hours before the dawn, the rest that greeted her was dreamless--a blissful contrast from the haunting images that had plagued her slumber in the recent weeks. And Nouke chose to see that pleasant void of rest as a sign her foolish idea wasn’t actually so foolish. The majority of the day passed as normal. She went about her chores on the farm as she usually did—with diligence and a finesse that came with years of hard work—stealing glances at the sun. Every hour it sank lower into the horizon, was another step closer to what she hoped would be a solution. That day, while her mother worked at her side, Nouke found Maketaten’s spirit akin to what it once had been: another sign Nouke took to mean her reckless plan was the right thing to do.

Maketaten still struggled to finish the food on her plate in the evenings, which served to remind Nouke of the necessity of her plan—never mind any apprehension she felt of her own well being.

After their meal, Nouke helped her mother to bed once she cleared away the scraps of food left on the table. With a steady grip, she easily anchored herself to Maketaten’s side and guided her to where they slept in the adjoining room. 

“I think I’m going to take a walk before bed,” Nouke mentioned.

Maketaten smiled, “I pray you find peace on your venture.”

Her mother made herself comfortable on the sleeping mat as best she could and Nouke kissed her on the forehead. She took a moment to memorize everything about the woman who had given her life: her graying hair, the lines on her face, and the impossible kindness in her eyes despite all the years of hardship. Every tiny detail Nouke kept in her heart incase her plan ended poorly.

“I love you,” Nouke murmured.

“I love you, my sweet girl,” she smiled back. “Now go, and be safe.”

Nouke promised not to be gone long—praying her words not be a lie and cloaked herself in a hooded robe before making her way to the palace.

The path to the West Garden wall was not one she had trekked before—at least not from her farm. Nouke did, however, have dozens of memories of playing on the banks of the Nile with her friend to steal directions from. All she needed to do was follow the mighty river, and her feet would carry her to familiar shores.

She wove through Waset’s market streets with practiced ease, through the city's center and down to the docks were the waters of the Nile glistened like a thousand gems in the moonlight. Her feet were already aching by the time she reached the docks with half a journey still to venture. Nouke stopped only a moment to rub the sores of her calloused feet before venturing on.

Every moment north she strode along the banks Nouke spent fretting over every conceivable way her plan could go awry. By the time she came to the palace wall, her heart was pounding and the ache in her feet no longer mattered.  

Logic and reason were both screaming vehemently in her skull—one at war with the other. Logic pleaded she turn back and think of another way to help her mother, while reason instilled her with imprudent motivation.

That reckless commitment didn’t begin to ebb until she found all the stones on the wall perfectly in place and immediately, her stomach churned at the thought that maybe their secret passage had long ago been sealed.

How fitting, she thought. It only made sense that his world was closed off forever; their paths split even further apart. 

Nouke wasn’t sure how many stones she pushed until one finally gave away, and when more began to fall, a wave of relief brought a smile to her face. Part of her was thrilled the plan was working, while a larger part was thrilled with the prospect of seeing her friend again after so many years. She had to remind herself there was no guarantee Ahk would still be the kind boy from her youth—the boy who always helped her when she needed it most.

Nouke prayed salvation would be waiting within the walls of the palace. The only promise, however, was the one Kahmunrah left with her family the day she’d been cast out.  

“That doesn’t matter,” she told herself firmly, ignoring logic and siding with reason. She had come too far to back out.

The fit was tighter than she remembered, but Nouke managed to squeeze through without too many scrapes. Only when her feet settled in the soft soil of the West Garden did realization strike with a flurry of emotions she was not prepared to combat. After years of living in exile, she was standing in a place her adult self only dreamed of stepping foot in once more.

The garden was quiet, and with a surveying glance, she found herself alone. A sigh broke past her lips, both relieved and disheartened. Things would have been so much easier if Ahkmenrah was already in their oasis.

Nouke lingered, hidden in the lush greenery lining the towering walls, taking the time to gather herself before she went further. Every one of her senses filled to the brim with nostalgia; memories flooding into her mind faster than she could comprehend them. Nouke's heart raced with fear and fervor. Tears threatened to fill her eyes with happiness despite the looming danger.   

All at once, Nouke was overcome with the wonton need to lay in the plush patches of grass and wade in the fountain the way she had countless times as a child. Everything was still as serenely beautiful as she remembered it to be--it had weathered time far better than she had.

Nouke forced her eyes shut and shook the memories out of her mind's eye; she was there for her mother, not for herself. With a deep breath, she tapped into the same reserve of determination that helped her through the break in the wall moments ago, lending her the motivation to step into the empty garden.

The stones were cool beneath her feet as she treaded lightly out of the emerald oasis and into the gilded corridors of the palace. Almost instantly, her momentum stilled. The halls were always like a maze, but in her youth, she had mastered their secrets; yet as Nouke stood openly in the glow of torchlight, she had no idea where to begin her search for the pharaoh. 

Quickly, she filtered through all the possible places one would be able to find the king. There was the throne room, the council chamber, as well as his private chamber; most of which were off-limits to servants without a summons. The likeliness she would find him in one of those forbidden rooms was high, and she took a moment to decide which one she would search first. The throne room was closest.

Nouke’s feet moved keenly along the polished floors—foolish and brazen to a degree—with the hope she would simply come upon the one person in all of Egypt who could help her on a whim. When voices or the cadence of footfalls echoed near, she ducked behind statues and columns until it was safe to venture once more—a sort of dance Nouke garnered more thrill from than she knew was wise. Her smile was difficult to quell every time she evaded passer by’s; each time her heartbeat more unbridled adrenalin through her veins making the threat of the pharaoh's brother less of a concern.

As she turned down another empty hall, the sound of voices met her ears and Nouke skillfully took cover behind a wide column etched to the ceiling with hieroglyphs. A group of palace guards marched by without ever looking her way, fueling that rush that kept a grin on her face. The moment they were out of sight, Nouke boldly stepped back into the hall colliding with another human being.  

Before she could utter an apology, she looked to find Kahmunrah staring down at her like a beast who had just captured its prey.

The surge of adrenalin that had filled her with thrill, was suddenly the only thing keeping her from panicking. Her heart all but stopped as dread closed in around her, and immediately shifted her focus to the floor so her hood fell to hide her face from his scrutiny. Nouke kept her breaths steady, knowing it would be better to stay calm and not draw unnecessary attention. She could feel the heaviness of his leer as he sized her up and felt the irritation that was undoubtedly twisting onto his face.

She wanted to scream and curse him for what he had done to her, but Nouke kept her eyes averted at all costs.

A snap split the silent air, echoing in the hall, causing Nouke to jump hearing the sudden sound, and again her body jolted when hulking men descended upon her. Like Kah’s men years before, they held her by her arms with an iron grip that stung, tightening with even the slightest of her movements. Kahmunrah said nothing as he turned on his heel, chin arrogantly pointed forward as he waved over his shoulder for the men to follow.

The moment his cold eyes were no longer baring upon her, Nouke risked a glance forward to take in the man strolling several paces ahead. Time had not changed Kahmunrah for the better; he still carried himself with an air of hubris unbefitting of his title. A prince he may have been, but he walked as though he were pharaoh. The sight drove her hatred of the man who’d caused hardship to befall upon her family even deeper.

For a single moment, Nouke considered her odds of wrangling free and making a run for it. She was thin, but working day after day had put some muscle on her bones. Surely the men restraining her underestimated her strength, but would she be quick enough? Possibly; but if she ran and was caught, her situation would not be made better. Nouke wasn’t about to accept defeat, but she also was wise enough to play the game as long as the outcome remained in her favor. 

Nouke was ushered into a chamber she’d never seen before; there were shelves of rolled papyrus, a desk with stools, along with a few other pieces of ornate furniture: an office of some kind. The wooden doors shut behind them with a baleful thud that made her jump again, and with a few more deep inhales Nouke willed herself to keep her composure wound tight.

Her eyes followed Kahmunrah with predatory focus. His ability to destroy her was the furthest thought in her mind; instead, Nouke continued to weigh the likeliness of escaping to freedom. Finally, Kah turned to face her, smiling the same sinister smirk she hated.

“It’s not often a common thief makes their into these walls.” The indifference in his tone allowed some of Nouke's apprehension to lesson—he didn’t recognize her.

“It’s an impressive feat,” he chided, and Nouke couldn’t tell if he was mocking or being genuine. “How did you manage it?”

Nouke didn’t reply, much to his displeasure, and kept her focus far away—just to be safe.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me,” Kah’s tone rapidly lost its indifference, shifting into one seething with irritation. “I asked, how you managed to sneak in here past the guards.”

Again, Nouke kept her focus trained on the floor and her lips sealed. She wasn’t about to give up the location of the passageway in the garden.

“Speak!” he shouted, his short fuse already at its end.

Kahmunrah ripped one of the small idols off of his desk and threw it across the room when she refused him a third time. His temper spilled into the room like a thick fog, stirring fear within her that she valiantly fought back. Angry words tumbled from his mouth coated in venom as he banged his fists on nearby surfaces, scolding his men for letting a thief—a woman no less—get past them.

Her silence and her reluctance to look at him only seemed to fuel his anger, which would have been comical if she wasn’t trespassing and in the presence of a man who had promised to kill her.

“Look at me!” he growled, crossing the space separating them in a couple of wrathful stomps.

“I want you to look at me!” Aggressively, Kahmunrah grabbed her by the throat, squeezing just enough to make breathing difficult, forcing her focus to meet his.

Tears brimmed her eyes, a result of the pain and her struggle for air. He pulled her face close to his, eyes black with fury.

“You will tell me how you got in, or I will throw you into the Nile and let the crocodiles do my work for me.”

Kahmunrah’s piercing eyes bore into her own; his features twisted into a snarl like a rabid beast. At that moment, a flicker of faint realization softened his gaze—his fiendish expression shifting as his memories stirred. And for the first time, Nouke felt genuine fear writhe in her gut.

Before his memory could piece everything together, the doors behind her flew open with another loud noise that caused everyone to jump. 

“Kahmunrah, what is the meaning of this?” a deep and powerful voice called out.

The men who’d been ordered to restrain her suddenly dropped to the floor into a kneel, lending Nouke the evidence she needed to figure out who had entered.

“Who is this?” the pharaoh asked, an authority to his voice that made Kahmunrah’s demeanor crumble slightly; no longer was he the man with the most power in the room.

“Release her,” the king demanded and without hesitation, Kahmunrah’s hand fell limply back to his side.

Nouke choked, sucking in the unrestricted air too quickly, and her palms rubbed away the phantom feel of Kah’s fingers until her skin was almost raw. It took everything in her not to lunge forward and tackle the pharaoh’s brother to the ground, overcome with the need to strangle him. The beaten dog expression Kah’s face held, however, was satisfactory enough.

“She’s a thief, little brother. I was dealing with a criminal, as criminals are to be dealt with,” Kah explained with a bravado that seemed to challenge his brother’s grand title.

After Nouke regained her composure and steady breaths that no longer choked her, she looked upon the boy from the garden for the first time in years. 

In a word, he was beautiful.

Ahk was regal draped head to toe in finery that complemented his olive skin. The black Kohl around his eyes was a vivid chiaroscuro to the swirling blue-gray of his irises. Her fingers twitched at her side, yearning to reach out and run them along his sharp jaw; he was breathtaking.

Despite his presence awakening dormant longings, Nouke reminded herself risking her life by stepping back into the palace was not for her own benefit, but her mothers. She pulled the laces of her composure a little tighter, compelling herself not to lose sight of why she was there.

Ahkmenrah offered a fleeting glance at first, one with only mild concern but mostly indifferent. His heedless gaze should not have dismayed her the way it did, but the sharp pang of disinterest was too poignant to ignore. And again, Nouke had to remind herself she was there for her mother, not herself. It didn’t matter whether or not Ahk still held her favor, she just needed him to still be kind enough to help.

Nouke moved her focus away from Ahkmenrah, both glad and disheartened the brothers had not recognized her. Kah’s reasons rambled from his tongue in a continuous barrage and arrogant tone that the pharaoh looked utterly bored by. In that boredom, Ahk’s focus shifted, finally meeting her gaze.  

Almost instantly the mask of indifference melted away as realization consumed his features in a show of varying expressions. Nouke swallowed a sudden nervous lump and smiled faintly, with a single nod, reassuring him that she was who he thought.

Bafflement coupled with joy and mixed with unbridled excitement on his stately features—Ahk’s smile almost blinding to behold. He quickly masked them, however, to keep his brother from noticing.

The pharaoh raised an open palm and a moment later, the trail of word's spilling from Kahmunrah’s mouth came to an abrupt end.

“Enough, brother,” he said with his kingly bravado. “You did well seizing this thief. Leave me now so that I may ask her why she was foolish enough to trespass here.”

Nouke watched Kah’s face shift between his brother and herself as a puzzled expression cemented on his boorish features. It seemed like hours passed between those glances, every second her heart was pounding against her ribs in fear that his ignorance would run out, and he would know her. She watched him as best she could without truly looking; if there was any suspicion as to who she was, it was buried under the questioning furrow he wore. 

 “This is a trivial matter, brother—too much so to concern a king,” Kah proclaimed.

“On the contrary,” Ahk recanted. “This is a matter that concerns my people—nothing trivial at all.”

Kahmunrah frowned, eyes growing narrow with suspicion and after a cumbersome silence, he folded. He left with a forced bow to the pharaoh and a snap of his fingers that called his guards to follow him out.

The arduous quiet remained after the wooden doors shut with another leaden sound, stretching far longer than both cared to let it, though, neither knew what to do or say in their newfound privacy. There was so much lost time, where did they even begin?

Nouke's avid heart thrummed in the silence, leaping from her chest to her throat as she tried to piece together words to say. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him, knowing her pulse would surely quicken embarrassingly so if she did. Still, from the corner of her eye, she caught the gleam of torchlight glinting brightly against the gold of the crown fitted to Ahkmenrah’s head. 

All at once, the realization settled: she was in the presence of a son of Ra, a god-king: Pharaoh of Egypt. Her heart leaped again, this time out of fear of offending, and without another thought, Nouke fell to her knees, bowing her head.

“Your majesty!" she husked out. “Please forgive my intrusion. I’ve come to speak with you.”

When he didn’t immediately reply, Nouke’s breaths stilled and her stomach churned. She didn’t move, but she listened, hearing the light scuff of his sandaled feet moving along the stone floor as he approached. The pharaoh knelt, and with a gentle touch, his fingertips tilted her chin so that her eyes met his own.

Nouke was sure time stopped at that moment while she searched his stormy eyes for the compassion and goodness that was a staple of his character when she knew him years ago. Before she could finish, a smile unfurled slowly at first, until finally, it consumed his entire face—there’s the boy I remember.   

 “It’s you…” he murmured with wonderment that spread visibly across his features, affirming her hope. His tone was airy, light enough to be swept away on the most insignificant of breezes, as though he could hardly believe she was real.

Nouke let her held breath escape her lungs in a sigh of blissful relief.

Ahkmenrah’s hands found hers, taking them warmly as he guided her to stand. His pale eyes never left hers, shining like the waters of the Nile under the moonlight—glistening like faceted gems as he marveled.

“It is…” Nouke’s words flowed the same as his—light and billowy—her words making Ahkmenrah’s smile grow impossibly wider.

“Nouke.” The sound of her name falling from his lips after so many years was like the sweetest of melodies. She smiled finally as the shock began to ebb. He was really there.

“Ahk…” It felt so good to say his name, so natural. “…Or should I call you, my king, now?”

He shook his head, biting his bottom lip as he grinned through a chuckle, “No, just Ahk.”  

When silence fell around them again, it was not marked with unease or emotional strain; what remained was uninhibited wonderment that made both of their heart's race. They both drank in the sight of the other, taking that moment to memorize the changes in the other’s face. Time was kind to her prince; his features were regal and sharp but not without the softness she admired. The years, Nouke feared, had been less forgiving to her.

Her skin was darkened by hours in the sun, making every line across her face twice as visible. There was no softness to her that she could tell, just a work-worn face perpetually covered by sand and grit—hands riddled with thick, scratchy callouses. Ahk’s hands were so soft in hers. The lightness of his skin a contrast to her own, screaming the different paths they tread—a thought that stole the smile from her lips.

Ahk noticed her shift in demeanor and gave her hands a gentle squeeze before leading her to a nearby bench. He never relinquished her touch, and the eagerness she found twinkling in his eyes was that of the boy she grew up with, making her heart swell. 

“I’m so happy to see you,” he beamed. “I want to know everything that’s happened since your family decided to leave the palace.”

Suddenly, the wonder left her features, and her brow creased into a heavy furrow.

“Decided to leave?” Nouke asked. “What do you know of my family's departure?”

Ahk’s smile faded as he read her confusion, his own uncertainty mixing into his expression.

“I only know what I was told,” he admitted. “My mother said your family left of your own accord. I thought it strange, but I didn’t question it. Should I have?”

A hint of anger began to boil inside Nouke, anger from the pain of that day so many years ago and what became of her family since. None of it was Ahk’s fault; in fact, some of that anger was for him and his mother—someone had lied to them. She reigned that ire back, however, deciding there was nothing to be done about it. 

“We didn’t want to leave, Ahk. We were cast out—my father was almost executed. We were all almost executed for a crime none of us had anything to do with.”

His big eyes grew impossibly wider, his mouth hanging slightly open from shock.

“What? How?” 

Nouke did not like to think about that day, nor the emotions doing so always stirred, but Ahk deserved to know the truth—not whatever his brother told them. With a sigh, she built up the resolve it would take to tell her friend of that fateful day, from the beginning.

She started by explaining the way she and her family were brought to Kahmunrah in the throne room, the case of the missing tablet, and how her father was condemned without real cause. 

“…there is nothing more frightening for a thirteen-year-old then almost being put to death.” Nouke swallowed the lump in her throat as she spoke.

The shock on the pharaoh’s face slowly shifted into anger the likes of which Nouke had never thought imaginable for her kind prince to possess. Still, he was strangely calm when he spoke.

“What happened next?”

“The council managed to talk him out of executing us given there was no proof,” she shrugged. “We were given the choice to live in a cell until there was proof or banishment. Kah promised us if we ever set foot in the palace again he would see to our punishment himself, which isn't hard to guess what he meant.”

“Did he know you just now?” Ahkmenrah asked as some of the anger faded to fear on his face.

Nouke shook her head, “I don’t think so.”

As quickly as it had come, the fear faded from his features.  

“Good,” he breathed, giving her hands another warm squeeze, brushing the soft pads of his thumbs across her skin. “My father would never have let that happen to you—I never would have let that happen to you.”

“I know,” she said without hesitation.

Nouke got lost momentarily in his presence, feeling her grasp on reality slipping the longer he looked at her so fondly. It was so easy being with him again—so natural.

“Was your tablet ever found?” Nouke asked suddenly, blinking back to reality, too stubborn to let herself fall under his spell. You are not here for yourself!

“The day my father and I returned to Waset, Kah told us it was found,” Ahk said with a nod and a look of skepticism that Nouke’s features mirrored.

The entire ordeal always felt suspicious; the knots in her stomach kept Nouke wondering if Kahmunrah was somehow behind the whole thing—stealing it, framing her family. However, she pushed that particular speculation from her mind. It was not her place to accuse members of the royal family of crimes.

She sighed, suddenly displeased and defeated.

“I’m so sorry all of that happened to your family,” Ahk said, his voice only an octave or two above a whisper. “The years were kind, I hope?”

The sincerity in his tone crashed against her with such genuine benevolence Nouke wanted to lie. The truth would surely pull away the soft smile on his features, and she didn’t want to leave him with any second-hand guilt over what had become of her and her family.

With a steadying inhale, she cast him a smile even though she knew it lacked the joy often found in such a gesture, and she nodded. When his smile stretched further, urging her to tell him of her life, Nouke chose to filter out the pieces that could steal his grin away.

She told him of their farm, the evenings she spent in the market, and the city’s center—how it reminded her of their West Garden. Nouke never mentioned the nights they went hungry, or how they were hardly surviving now with no one to help plow their entire fields. She couldn’t burden him with such knowledge. 

“And what of your parents? Are they well?” he asked.

Nouke couldn’t keep her frown from twisting onto her features; even after so many years, her grief was still palpable.

“The gods took my father four years ago,” she said quietly.

She felt the tight affirmation of Ahk’s hands around hers once again, and it was enough to soothe some of the sorrow that stirred from the memory.

“I’m so sorry, what can I do to help?” he asked. “Anything for you.”

Nouke’s lips ghosted into a smile hearing the compassion she’d always adored.

“Actually, that’s why I’ve come—to seek your help.”

Ahkmenrah scooted closer, his attention all hers. 

“Tell me,” he implored.

“My mother,” Nouke began, willing her voice to stay even. “She’s ill. After what happened with my father—the money we have is not enough to pay for a healer's skill. I-I didn’t know where else to go.”

Nouke hung her head to keep him from seeing the tears welling in her eyes as the familiar inkling of helplessness loomed. She did not want to cry in front of her pharaoh, but her emotions were betraying her.

Ahk lulled her gently, tilting her chin so he could look once more at her face—the kindness in his eyes soft and overwhelming.

“What are the signs of her malady?” he asked. “I will consult my healer's first thing tomorrow so that we can make sure your mother maintains her health.”

Nouke listed them as best she could, describing the severity of each, and she could almost see Ahk file every detail away safely in his memory to call upon come the dawn.

“Please do not worry,” he gently begged. “Your mother was kind to me. I am honored to be given the ability to help her.”

The sweetness of his words crushed part of her composure, prompting one of the tears she’d been fighting to restrain to spill over. Whether it slipped down her cheek out of relief she had finally found a way to help her mother, or because of the compassion and kindness Ahkmenrah offered so freely, Nouke wasn’t sure. Nevertheless, she struggled to fight the urge to lunge forward and yank him into an embrace so tight he might have feared she was trying to crush him.

Instead, Nouke pulled her hands from his grasp and slid off the bench into a kneel, unsure how else to show a pharaoh the level of her appreciation. Before she could make it to the ground, however, Ahk stood, pulling her back to her feet with him.

“You never need to kneel to me,” he promised.

His hands lingered on the bare skin of her arms where he’d gently guided her to her feet. His thumb swept back and forth so tenderly until he reached to tuck stray hairs behind her ear. Goosebumps prickled in the wake of his feather-light touches—so familiar but so much more intimate than she remembered, and without reason, Nouke stepped closer to him. 

Ahkmenrah was intoxicating—his warmth, the kindness in his eyes, the way his fingers felt like wisps of satin across her skin. The thick velvet of his voice captivating to her ears. Nouke would have known true happiness trapped in that moment forever, yet every flickering gleam she caught dancing in the shine of his crown reminded her she could never have him.

Before long, she would lose him again. Destiny dictated that he would remain within the palace to rule, and she would slink back to her farm where they would walk their separated paths until the gods claimed them.

Nouke smiled only to keep from frowning, but the sadness in her tone was something she couldn’t mask.

“Thank you,” she told him, stepping out of his grasp before her heart grew anymore attached. “I need to get home. I've already been away much too long.”

Although she wasn’t looking at him, she could feel Ahk’s eyes watching her tentatively, as though he were trying to decipher the doleful expression hidden in her smile.

“Then I will escort you.” 

He held out his arm with a charming side smirk, dripping with a playful arrogance that made her heart flutter—a remnant from their childhood together. Such casual intimacy would make her miss him all the more, but she quickly wound herself around him, causing his grin to grow.

Kamuzu was waiting outside the door of the chamber and Nouke found herself smiling, having almost forgotten Ahk’s personal Medjay. He was just as stoic as she remembered, with an underlying kindness that always made her admire him.

Kamuzu said nothing, looking to both, raising a brow in silent question.

“Kamuzu, you remember Nouke?” Ahk reintroduced with a grin.

“I do,” Kamuzu said, a faint upturn to his lips, and he bowed his head respectfully. “It is good to see you, lady Nouke.”

“You too.”

Kamuzu fell behind them as Ahk guided her through the halls of the palace almost proudly. The palace was quiet given the lateness of the hour but several guards passed by, each one kindling Nouke’s paranoia that one of them would be Kahumunrah’s men. Ahkmenrah pulled her closer to his side, as though he’d sensed her apprehension, and wanted to reassure her he would never let anything happen to her.

When they reached The West Garden it was alive with the soft sounds of insects singing in the silver cascade of moonlight as the desert breeze rustled the leaves in time with their somber symphony. Ahk easily found his way through the line of foliage, and to where the passage out of his world waited. His eyes wandered to the hole in the sandy wall, a slight quirk to the corners of his lips.

“I suspected this was how you managed to get in without the guards noticing.”

He grew quiet as his eyes stayed fixated on the break in the stones, and slowly his upturned features became heavy with an expression akin to regret.

“I thought about running away through this wall so many times to find you...I should have.”

Nouke wanted to ask what stopped him, but she felt she already knew the answer. Like her, he knew his place and the responsibilities therein. For him, running away was more than abandoning his family, running away meant abandoning an entire nation. Ahkmenrah was too good to be greedy.

She stayed quiet, unsure she could conjure a reply that wouldn’t make her heart ache more than it was already beginning to. Whatever was growing between them: infatuation, desire. Nouke needed to keep it from blossoming further to save them both, and she untangled herself from his hold—abruptly empty on account.

The look of hurt that flashed over his features was difficult to miss even though the pharaoh worked to hide it quickly. She felt it too—the loss of his touch was excruciating.

As they lingered, neither looking at the other, both not wanting to say good-bye, the silence grew poignant.

“Thank you,” Nouke said finally, making haste to leave before her emotions got the better of her.

“Wait,” Ahk stepped to block her way, his words sounding desperate.

His hands gripped the upper part of her arms to stop her before gently sliding to take her hands in his.   

Logic screamed at her to pull away from his tender touch, in order to spare her a lifetime of heartache, but it was a battle Nouke was hastily losing. She met his eyes, matching their intensity.

“Meet me here tomorrow as the sun is setting,” he implored. “The council will think I am at prayer—no one will question my absence. I will have your mother’s medicines by that time.”

Ahkmenrah’s muted excitement was contagious, and Nouke grinned despite her better judgment.

“Is that a demand, my king?”

Ahk’s features burst into a brilliant grin.

“Yes.” He pulled her into a tight embrace.

Nouke’s breath caught as she fell into him, enveloping herself in his presence, squeezing back just as snugly. Her eyes even drifted closed and when Ahk laid a kiss to her cheek, allowing it to linger long enough to make it more than a friendly gesture, Nouke knew she was falling into a path she couldn’t tread.

“Tomorrow?” Ahk asked again as he pulled away to meet her eyes.

Nouke grinned, unable to keep hope from ruining her.

“Tomorrow,” she murmured.

Next Chapter-> Chapter Nine: What We Have

[hakaibunshi]

2020 fanwork highlights

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works! 

※  ※  ※

Thank you so much @kuriboh-i-choose-you for tagging me??... I am not good at this, but I will try to do something positive for once, I guess, and shamefully plug my own work........................(?) °_ °’’ 

feat. puzzle - scandal - pride - wish - dragon - kingcrab but tagging others first because this is going to be too long.

※  ※  ※

So many have already done this, but I was not able to find @pridefulrose @life-0r-death @shinayashipper @tenderwulf @the-kings-of-games if they already did this, then I am sorry, I miss a lot of stuff all the time ...

(And I am also sorry for tagging people who have never even interacted with me  人(_ _*) but I enjoyed their works so I am tagging anyway, please forgive me and ignore me if you want to)

※  ※  ※

O P I A 

[Puzzleshipping | ~12K]

He is used to seeing the world through Yugi’s eyes and filtering each experience through his thoughts; A thing was never just a thing but whatever Yugi saw in it. But not anymore. He watches his own fingers move closer, pushing in between the other’s until they finally all lock in place. He doesn’t know what that feels like to Yugi, but he sees their hands loving each other. And has to fully acknowledge that it is wonderful.

“No.” His voice feels comfortable for the first time. Along the length of his leg, Yugi’s ankle brushes in placid motion up and down. Bashful yet intrigued, Atem pays attention to how his body reacts to all these physical breaches. He also thinks back to what had happened in the photo booth.

Overall this story has just taught me so much; it needs to take a spot here. It was the very first time I have ever participated in a fandom event. It was the first time I wrote for Puzzleshipping, my first time writing Fluff, first time writing FOR someone else.

The pressure was so real, and I struggled so much along the way, but at the same time, this was the thing that catapulted me back into the fandom for real. After this, it seemed impossible to turn away again, and I realized how much I love not just writing but putting effort into writing. Polishing it, fighting against it if needed.

Break A Heart

[KingCrabshipping | ~12K]

Jack, who stood a head taller than Yusei, leaned down, hovering his lips over the fair skin of Yusei’s neck, sending hot breath on its path. Yusei’s desire was audible through his short breaths, but he didn’t care, not that he was keeping it a secret. The image in his head was Jack biting him to pieces, and it made him shiver. “Come on then, Yusei.” Jack’s voice was heavy, even if he hummed his words. He leaned in until he could feel the buckles of Yusei’s jacket against his chest. The beast's teeth playfully caressing the shell of his ear, Yusei couldn’t hide the vibration it sent through his body. “Fight me.”

This needs to be here not because it is especially great, it really isn’t, BUT it was something I wrote for me and for me only because this is what I wanted and needed and for once I really did not care if others would like it or not. And that was kind of special for me. Also this ship. It just makes me lose my shit, I love it this much.

A Wish Granted

[Wishshipping | Dragonshipping | ongoing]

“Ain’t as bad as it looks,” he felt the need to say. “Most are older.”

Yugi turned away and reached for the towel, wringing it in his hands. Already, just the sound of it had some bizarrely calming effect. “Sorry…, I didn’t mean to stare. I didn’t think you were hurt this badly.” He spread the towel across both his hands and gestured to Katsuya to lift his hand. Some water dripped onto his thighs but it didn’t seem to bother him.

“As I said, ain’t all fresh.”

“They were fresh once.” He slowly started to rub the dirt and dry blood off the skin, evidently taking great care not to put too much pressure at first, not to cause him any pain.

“Well, they don’t hurt anymore.”

The faintest, saddest smile hushed over Yugi’s face and for a moment Katsuya thought he might start to cry. “Hm… just looking at them hurts”, he said under his breath, as if to himself.

Katsuya thought about that for a second but stopped before he, too, could feel it.

My baby. Although it is constantly taking the back seat to make space for ongoing smaller projects and fandom events, this is so close to my heart. Jounouchi’s POV because I love him and I feel way too connected to this boy.

Even tho this is getting long: Inspired by @kuriboh-i-choose-you I will also put here a special mention [Scandalship WIP haha]:

HEAVENSENT 

is the first thing I started writing in 2020. And until now it is the one I most want to write but also rarely find the correct headspace to do so. But I want to share a little something here then, if I might~

It is a story of Kaiba trying to travel to the afterlife, but traveling into the past instead, whoops.

[Scandalshipping | Prideshipping | WIP]

(of chapter 2)

A strange and new insecurity bewitched him. Was he meant to bow? No one ever taught him about this. But he did not feel like bowing to the other, instead, he lifted his chin ever so slightly. “I was worried not to be able to communicate.” “I wouldn’t have a language barrier get in the way of my revenge. Now, where are my clothes? Don’t make me ask again…” The audacity had Atem nearly choke on his breath. Wasn’t it too much to talk like this, no matter who he was? “It would appear the servants have taken it to clean... I will make sure it will be returned to you. You shall forgive the insolence.” He thought about calling the guards in, but didn’t want to interrupt the time between them quite yet. Once the priests found out about his awakening, they would be all over the case. “May I ask your name? I wish to at least address you properly. Forgive me for not recognizing you should there have been a way for me to kn-” “Seto Kaiba.” Seto! By Rah, if this was a joke, he wished it to come to an end already. Besides him being interrupted yet again when all he did was try to be polite, to have his dearest’s name be used atop of his shape, how much insult would he have to tolerate? “Seto….?” “It is unfortunate… I thought I should have left a lasting impression on that ghost of yours.” “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” “Yes, I’m aware. It’s rather obvious.” Searching for his composure, Atem pushed aside the blinds, pretending curiosity as to what was happening outside, where nothing was happening at all because the whole world was happening right here. He sensed it through the vibrations inside his chest. Alarmed by the sound of naked footsteps behind him, he turned just in time to hurry and push himself between the door and Seto Kaiba. “What are you doing?” “Out of my way, Pharaoh, I will find the lackeys responsible for my clothes vanishing, and I will get them, hopefully before someone dares to rub them against a stone down in the Nile.” His trembling palms raised toward Kaiba's chest, Atem managed to stop his motion, incredibly cautious not to touch him. “There is nothing wrong with the Nile, but I am trying to be understanding. However, will you please consider your appearance and withhold from exposing yourself like this to the entire court. The guards might think you a mad man. I ask you to stay here, I will get your dress back for you.” “You better be quick about it.” “Just...” Atem did not appreciate the language at all, but the worst of it was that the harsh fold between Kaiba’s brows, the disregard in the air between them and the light garment made his knees weak. “Just stay here. And stay quiet. If you cause trouble, I-” “I got it.” He turned away. “Just get on with it.”

This is so long, how awful, I apologize !!!!! but also ... greatful if anyone at all reads through this x.x’’’’’ 

ヽ(´ཀ`」∠) 彡3

[beautifully-tuan]

A.C.A.B.

here you go anon :) hope you like it

cop!Mark Tuan x badgirl!Reader smut Warnings: explicit sexual content, a bit political  lol idk, crime, cursing

Masterlist

a/n : to the anon who requested this scenario, i hope that this is what you wanted. it turned out way darked than i had imagined, and a bit complicated too but yeah. i hope you'll enjoy and don't hesiate to check out my other works and to request if you'd want me to write something for you. ♡

You were a very private person, and you loved that about you. You took pride in the mysterious, edgy and unapproachable vibe you gave off, only a few people knowing the most sordid details, the dirtiest secrets of your life.

But there was Mark Tuan the cute police officer who wouldn't have to know so much about you if he wasn't so hardworking, always getting in your way, always there to catch you when you fall, in the most ironic way possible, almost as if he was chasing after you. Unlike most people, he knew the things you did during the nighttime, and had even arrested you for them. Of course, you were always set free when the morning came, your deeds never grave enough for you to endure more than a lonely night at the police station. But those nights weren't exactly lonely. Nine times out of ten, Mark Tuan the cute police officer was in charge of you. As a good cop, he was obligated to ask you some questions, try to get something out of your quiet, stubborn self. With you answering his questions with silly remarks or other questions, he'd never succeeded.

- "Why did you tag someone's house with spraypaint?"

- "You're really cute, you know that?"

- "How can you be wandering outside at such late hours?"

- "Tss, that ain't no question to ask a young lady."

- "Do you really enjoy getting in trouble?"

- "Do you really enjoy endorsing and perpetrating brutality as a job?"

You weren't exactly what you could call a "cop-friendly" person, and to you, Mark was in the enemy camp. But he really was cute, and teasing him amused you so much that you found yourself enjoying his company - if you could call it like that. Seeing his ears redden in exasperation, and his teeth digging into the flesh of his bottom lip when you got on his thin nerves was oddly satisfying. You would lie if you said you'd never imagined his teeth sinking into your own bottom lip as he'd do things to you on the interrogation table. And sometimes, on nights when your teasing went really far, you could swear the sexual tension between you was palpable in the air. But fantasies were all they were, and reality had always settled a fair enough distance between you, a distance that neither of you dared to decrease. As far as you were concerned, Mark Tuan just made your nights at the police station less lonely, and he made you laugh. You found it amazing, almost poetic, how you would always bump into each other, constantly getting in each other's way, as if it was meant to be. You had hoped to contemplate that thought again next time you'd spend a night in his company at the police station... You had no idea your paths would cross again sooner, at the most unexpected place that was his very house.

After a successful protest you'd participated in, you'd gone to have drinks with some friends to celebrate. They told you that, despite the protest being a success and the government's detrimental project abandoned, a lot of protesters were injured due to police brutality. Normally, you wouldn't have overreacted, that kind of thing being normal, almost conventional. But tonight, you were tipsy, adrenalized, and pissed, so you'd decided to pay the police department a little visit.

You weren't looking for Mark specifically. In fact, you weren't looking for anyone specifically. How could you know which house he lived in when you were literally in a police dorm-town? Your friends called it the "police district". You'd never felt bold enough to sneak in there, but again, you were tipsy and adrenalized. Nothing seemed impossible to you. It was around midnight, and it wasn't difficult to sneak into the first house in which the lights were out. You were quite experienced in this field. As you had expected, they didn't bother with security installations, too arrogant and full of themselves to think anyone would stand a chance against them. You didn't care. You didn't come here to fight anyway. You just wanted to annoy them a little, like you always did.

You hopped inside the house from the window, which, fortunately but unsurprisingly, wasn't locked. You let your bag fall to the ground of what seemed to be the kitchen, and snooped around, looking for anything to break or to mess with. You tried to make as little noise as possible, but your ears were buzzing from the adrenaline. You were probably louder than you thought, or Mark's hearing was very developed... You barely registered his footseps approaching. When he burst into the room, hair discheveled from sleep and dressed in nothing but sweatpants, you were thunderstruck. You jaw nearly dropped at the sight of him, the only thought floating in your mind being "meant to be".

He looked just as flabbergasted, and you laughed. Your laugh then turned into a smirk.

- "Well well... hello, sleeping beauty."

Mark cleared his throat, visibly trying to hide how much your presence affected him.

- "What- what the hell are you doing here?"

- "Umm... I was hanging around, and I thought why not pay you a little visit?" you said, still smirking.

You were lying, and he knew it. There was no way in hell you could've figured out where he lived. If he was honest, he was also starting to believe this situation was a prank pulled on him by fate. He would've turned you in if it wasn't for that thought, as crazy as it was.

- "This doesn't occur every other day, does it?" you teased, feeling bolder than ever after seeing his hesitation. "Why don't we take advantage of this great opportunity and have some fun, what do you think, officer?"

Free from any more hesitations, his response was immediate. Who would've thought that, one night, you'd find yourself trapped between Mark Tuan the cute police officer's body and the wall of his kitchen, as his lips crashed onto yours... You'd imagined what kissing him would feel like more than once, but it was nothing compared to reality. His lips were soft, but the kiss was ruthless, letting out months and months of sexual tension, a persistent need waiting to finally be satisfied.

Impatiently, Mark lifted your shirt and threw it across the room. You held onto his shoulders and locked your legs around his waist, while he left numerous marks down your neck. You moaned and tugged at his hair, eliciting a growl from the back of his throat and causing him to press his growing bulge harder against you. In the blink of an eye, your bra fell to the floor and he immediately started toying with your bare breasts. His lips and fingers worked on your nipples, and you struggled not to moan to loudly, not wanting the entire police district to hear how worked up you were getting.

Soon enough, Mark was carrying you towards his room and pushed you down on the bed, lips never leaving yours. When he finally separated your bodies to catch his breath - and help you catch yours - he ridded you of your jeans. His eyes darkened at the sight of the wet patch that your arousal had formed on the thin fabric of your panties.

- "Fuck" he breathed out. "Soaking wet just for me."

He spread your legs further and pushed your panties to the side before plunging a finger into you. You moaned loudly at the pleasurable intrusion, your head thrown back into the mattress and eyes falling shut. He slowly pumped his finger in and out of your core, enjoying the view of you squirming underneath him. The sounds you made were driving him wild and, wanting to hear more, he added another finger and sped up his movements.

- "Oh my God!"

You were a moaning and whimpering mess, his fingers hitting all the right spots inside you. They felt delicious, but you needed more of him. Trying your hardest to speak through the intense pleasure he was giving you, you uttered:

- "Mark, please" he stopped and looked up at you with lust-filled eyes. "I need you."

He removed his fingers and pulled down his pants and boxers, his angry cock slapping against his stomach. He hovered above you and aligned his member to your entrance. But, suddenly, as he was about to give you what you were craving, he reached for something on his nightstand. Through the dim lights filtering from outside, you barely caught sight of something metallic before you felt something cold wrap around your wrist. Your smirk reappeared as you realized what he was doing. He looked at you intensely, asking you for permission to continue with his eyes, and you nodded, more than thrilled and - somehow - even more turned on. He returned your smile and finished cuffing your hands to the headboard.

Before you could say anything, Mark knocked the breath out of your lungs when he slid inside you in one sharp thrust. You moaned in unison, relishing the intense satisfaction you were feeling. He gave you enough time to adjust to his impressive size, while trying to gather some self-control at how good your tight walls felt around him. He pulled out almost entirely before crashing his hips into yours again, making you cry out his name. He repeated his motions several times, slowly, making you agonize. You pulled on your restraints, wanting to touch him, hold on to him, tryig to lift your hips for more. Seeing how desperate you were, Mark picked up his pace, fucking into you hard and fast, making the bed squeak. Mark Tuan the cute police officer was long gone, replaced by the animalistic man sweating and grunting on top of you, occasionally biting your bottom lip just like you'd always wanted him to.

Your climax was fast-approaching, and Mark could sense it from the way you clenched around his cock. He gripped your hip tighter, possessively, while his other arm went down so he could lower himself and press his body flush against yours. You lifted your legs and locked them higher around his waist as a response, making him hit you from a new angle that had you seeing stars.

- "Right there" he whispered sinfully into your ear when you moaned particularly loud for him.

The sound of his deep, raspy voice was all you needed to fall over the edge, screaming and chanting his name like a mantra, like a "thank you". He continued his thrusts, riding out your high while chasing his own. He wouldn't last long with your walls clenching uncontrollably around him, viciously gripping his member. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to muffle his high-piched moans, because he was dangerously close. After a few more sloppy thrusts, he pulled out, a string of curses leaving his lips as he came all over your abdomen.

The sight alone was enough to turn you on again, and you almost suggested a round two, but you were exhausted, and you were sure he was too. He released you from the handcuffs and handed you a wet towel to clean up. Afterwards, he collapsed next to you and, just a few seconds later, you were both fast asleep.

The next morning when Mark woke up, there was no one beside him. He looked around, wondering if your clothes were still there, but they were gone. He blinked, slightly overtaken. Did he dream what'd happened last night? No, he didn't. He could still smell you in his bedsheets. Then where did you go? Probably home, or somewhere else, who knows. You could be anywhere. Mark didn't really mind, because he could feel it in his guts that you'd meet again someday, probably during one of your reckless nights, and you'd end up with him at the police station again.

He didn't know it yet, but you left another, visible trace of your passage at his house. If he had been careful, if he had paid a little more attention, maybe he would've noticed. He should've known better. He should've remembered that you had come here to do something in the first place. He should've realized that you actually loved getting in trouble, because you caused even more trouble that way. When he would leave his house for work this morning and discover what you had done, he would scoff and shake his head in disbelief, but he would admit that he was impressed. All over his façade wall, crossing his window and front door, you had sprayed in big red letters:

"A.C.A.B - ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS"