#and not at all just me purging the screaming from my head

[anony-mouse-writer]

Okay okay okay. This is literally gonna chew on my brain, so.

Here I list the tenets that guide the blooded sword:

I. May all that you face have a fighting chance. Any sword raised to the innocent or unarmed in cruelty is blackened by its shame.

[If he won’t move, move him. This must be done.]

[He could shove Tanguish back against the wall, stun him with the blow, and his sword would be in his hands before Tanguish knew what happened.

II. May your wrath be stoked only by the Saint's wrath, tempered by the Saint's fire, and quenched by the Saint's blood. A fool are they who, gifted the Saint's power, use it in wrath or malice alone.

His body still shook like the innervated sparks of a kicked campfire, but the parts of him that mattered, that controlled his voice and his will, felt so near to nothing it was startling. Transcendent. There was just a simple surety: he was going to make Wels pay for this.

[Do something.]

III. May you meet every adversary with honor, nor despise them for their challenge. May every battle prove your glory, and every accepted challenge prove their equal.

“He’ll make you kneel like that t-too and he’ll kill you, and you won’t be able to do anything to stop him!”

“Then I won’t give him the chance to command me.”

IV. May you be steadfast and know no retreat, for the back turned is once wounded and twice deserving. May every wound won show no proof of running.

V. May you meet every obstacle with courage, for just as all that emits light must endure burning, all the courageous must make a brother of their fears.

Helsknight felt his breath begin to heave, the silent determination of his wrath giving way to something nastier and more desperate.

VI. May your word be law, as binding as chains, and as chains may it drown you when bound in deceit.

“I didn’t promise that.”

“You did!”

…

“Then it's a promise I’m breaking.”

VII. May you seek the counsel of your elders, those more versed in the order and its ways, and respect their word once given, for their communion with the Saint is long, and their wisdom earned.

VIII. May you persevere to the end of any enterprise begun, for the folly is theirs that, through unfinished business, never gain wisdom from deeds done.

“You said we were in this together,” Tanguish said quickly. “Keep your promise and stay.”

IX. May you respect the honor of your fellow helsmet, that none may know you cruel or slave to vice. For no creature, be they sibling of order or beggar or king, is ever deserving of dishonor or pain.

Tanguish was so small, and so fragile. And he was so scared of pain, maybe all he really needed to do was turn around and grab the knife off the table, and then Tanguish would run.]

X. May you treat all siblings of sword and order as your own, held accountable as you would so hold yourself. A villain are they that stray from their tenets, and a villain they that allow it.

- Redstone and Skulk, @silverskye13

…

okay, so now that we’ve gone through all the ways Helsknight broke his tenets this chapter, lets talk about the WoG confirmation that the red text is the will of the his Saint and his accusation that Tanguish is twisting his tenets.

…… yeah I mean, he kind is. He’s admitted to it in the past too.

Like, obviously I am deeply unwell about this series in general, but Helsknight’s devotion to his Saint is so fucking fascinating to me personally. Holding to a code no one else has to is hard as shit and the Saint’s code is pretty vicious. But part of the code also addresses getting help from others and I don’t even know if there are others of the order?

BUT what there are others of, is the champions of the arena. And Helsknight has been forgoing their help for a while and the Hand calls him out on it. Helsknight just now realizing that he doesn’t have a lot of things grounding himself to him instead of Wels (and self-admittedly ignoring several of those things of late) isn’t healthy and he needs to reach out and he needs someone to hold him accountable, either to his tenets or whatever internal logic he decides to replace them with, and I don’t think it can be Tanguish, because I love him, but he’s absolutely a manipulative little shit who will use Helsknight’s code to his advantage in tense situations.

Hels doesn’t get much in the way of happy endings and I’m not entirely convinced that the ideal scenario for Helsknight to follow his tenets to the letter at this moment would be to muster up his allies and a battle plan and then march on hermitcraft to duel Wels or something. Which would be lowkey highkey horrible for everyone involved, not gonna lie. But I also have to wonder reallly strongly about how the red text of the Saint’s will directly violated several of the tenets and what that means for Helsknight going forward.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Ñuha drakarītsos (dark!Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

synopsis: Aemond attacks Harrenhal and decides he deserves a spoil of war. And he doesn´t take lightly to any objections.

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, (public) humiliation, non-consensual sex, oral sex (m receiving), penetrative sex, reader getting treated like a toy, angst, no happy end, afab reader

word count: 3.1k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by @targaryen-dynasty

Adrenaline races through your body as you run through the halls of Harrenhal. Keeping your bare feet moving over the hard stone ground and your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your loud, huffing breath is the only thing you hear besides it. You don't remember losing your shoes or ripping the skirts of your dress. It does not matter now though. All that matters is getting out of the castle and away from the men invading it or die trying. But you refuse to give up without a fight.

You can count the number of hallways on one hand, when you get caught by a knight and despite your struggles, are forced back to the inner courtyard. There you get pushed towards the other woman from the castle, who had all been rounded up like scared animals. Clinging to one another, shaking and crying hysterically. Your eyes flit over the yard. Knights are pushing around lords and servants, rounding up more women. The screams mixed with the scent of fire entering your nose is disorienting. Your head spins from the cacophony around you and then silently everything goes quiet as he enters the courtyard. That piercing blue eye burns into your body for just a moment before eyeing the rest of his and his men's work. His voice is heard barking orders at his men and then Aemond Targaryen stands before all of you, lips pressed together in a thin line and his hands behind his perfectly straight back.

With a methodical carefulness the prince regards all of you, looking down his nose. After walking the line, he comes back around to stand in front of you.

“You.” He says plainly.

Before you know what exactly he means by that, you get pushed a few steps forward and your clothes are ripped off your body. A gasp goes through the group behind you, the women cowering away to further single you out as Aemond walks towards you.

Inches away from you, he stills. One of his large, rough hands finds it´s way onto your thigh, the thumb sliding over the inside to graze your folds. Instinctively your legs squeeze together tightly, a thick layer of goosebumps spreads over your body, yet while it brought a sardonic smile to his lips, yours are graced by a snarl. His touch wanders upwards, leaving a burning trace in its wake that makes you feel the need to purge. Acidic taste burns its way up your oesophagus, overwhelming you entirely as the burning trails over the curve of your breasts to stop right under your jawline.

He runs a thumb over your lip ring, tracing the curve of your lip before finally releasing your chin.

“Unclean.” He mutters, sounding unimpressed at the dirt and ash that had accumulated on your skin. 

The smirk returns to his face as he reaches out and grabs onto your cheek.

He leans in close, his warm breath against your skin as he whispers. “You´re going to make a perfect little whore for me.”

The only answer he gets is a growl from deep within your body.

A soldier gets called over to wrap his cape over your shoulder. It is wet with drying blood and smells of the fires that had been set all around the castle, leaving you uncomfortable. Though it gives a sense of modesty.

The thought of which goes flying as soon as Aemond wraps an arm around your waist, to without much decorum, pick you up over his shoulder. To no avail you kick your legs and hit the back of the prince’s armour, which only gets regarded with a tightening of his grip.

Somehow, he manages to get you on top of Vhagar, trapping you between his arms. “Now. Are you going to behave yourself?” He asks firmly but doesn't wait for an answer as he commands Vhagar to take flight.

He doesn´t need to. It was more of an order than a question really. It is not like you could do much anyway without falling off the massive dragon and breaking your neck if you are lucky.

“Let me go!” You break your silence against him once you are far away enough from the castle for the screams on the ground to fall silent.

“Or mayhap you could give yourself to me right here.” He muses aloud.

“I will never give myself to you willingly.” You spit out the bitter tasting words. “And if you truly believe there to be even the slightest chance of it, you must be a bigger fool than the usurper himself.”

Aemond smiles coldly at your defiant words, enjoying the fact that you were unable to fully submit to him. He leans forward and bites down hard enough on your neck to break the skin where his teeth marked your flesh. It stings horribly, yet he seemed to find pleasure in your pain. 

“And yet here you are, unable to do anything but sit in my lap and take whatever I choose to give you.” He purred softly, running his fingers over your hair gently before suddenly yanking it back harshly in a makeshift ponytail, causing tears to spring to your eyes.

The sharp pain running through your scalp lets up only moments after, yet as Aemond lets up on your throbbing tresses, he immediately begins pinching at your breasts through the fabric that hangs around your shoulders still.

“Perhaps I should break more than just your will?” He asked with a sinister grin, reaching between your thighs to pinch at them as well.

The sensation makes you jump in the dragon's saddle, only saved from falling by his arms around you and holding onto the next best thing you can find, which luckily is the pommel.

Your heart beats wildly out of your chest and while the wind howls in your ears, carrying over a loud amused laugh from behind your back.

By the time you reach the capital and the red keep, you feel ready to pass out. Even if in all technicality the way doesn’t take long on dragon back, the prince´s relentless teasing and humiliation has you so on edge that it becomes straining.

When Vhagar finally lands and your feet feel some solid ground under their soles, you are immediately restrained by the wrists behind your back. At first you have half a mind of making a run for it, but one look into Aemond's eye tells you that there wasn't a worse idea in the world right now and that his treatment would become only worse if you followed up on that instinct. So, you comply with him as he nudges you in the back to get you to walk. Stumbling after him as he leads the way towards his chambers, you shiver under the judging glances of passing royalty and servants alike. Hearing their whispers about the now open and thus very revealing cape had you clench your fists.

You want to yell at them, rage, defend yourself, run. Anything to make you feel less helpless, but there is no way you would survive that. So, you keep following Aemond, keeping your thoughts to yourself and focusing on the stone floors. Even if their gazes burnt into your body just like his steel blue eyes had back at Harrenhal, you wouldn't meet their eyes. Doing so would only serve to lose the last smidgeof respect you had preserved for yourself.

Somehow the walk through the castle feels even longer than the flight from Harrenhal. Perhaps because it is linked to the much greater shame of being seen in this position, a shame that feels like boulders weighing you down from your stomach.

Eventually he does open the doors to his private chambers to you though, closing them behind you, before coming up to.

Even the way he moves marks him as a predator. The slow steps, cold, ever calculating eyes, the way his head always moves before his body. Always planning something that no matter how hard you try, you can never seem to keep up with. Smelling and getting off on the fear of his prey.

You notice that you have let yourself get lost in thought, when Aemond pulls the cloak off your shoulders and loudly calls in some maids.

On his order they give you what must be the roughest bath ever. Scrubbing until your skin is reddened, but at least it rides you off the dirt and smell of smoke and dragon.

You are given the grace to be dried off, but one look tells you that you won't be given any new clothes.

Instead, once the women hand you over to Aemond again, with arguably pitying gazes, you find yourself held down on the mattress.

With leather straps your wrists and ankles get bound to the bed posts in an embarrassingly open position. And no matter how hard you pull on them, the restraints do not budge, leaving you in that position for anyone that would walk in the room to see.

“Do not worry. You will learn to love being under my control.” Aemond runs the back of his fingers over your burning cheeks.

An amused chuckle leaves his lungs as you turn your head to snap after the slender digits.

“I will never love being under your control. I surely will not ever love anything associated with you.” You pick up the fight against the smooth leather once more, yet all it does is cut into your skin.

“It's quite amusing to watch someone resist so hard.” The blond remarks. “But ultimately futile.”

He leans in close again, his hot breath brushing against your ear as he whispers. “You will learn to crave my touch as much as you fear it.”

Without a warning he bites down on your earlobe, causing you to cry out in pain and shock.

“Fuck you…” You hiss back at him.

Aemond smirks at your response, his eye gleaming with a mix of dominance and pleasure.

“I think I quite enjoy hearing you say that. Although I would much rather do that to you.” His hand wanders down between your legs again to forcefully push two fingers inside of you.

You cry out, a strangled sound that claws its way out of your lungs, but he does not relent. The sensation of his fingers penetrating is brutal, making you want to scream, but you bite your tongue instead. Under no circumstances would you give Aemond that satisfaction, if you could prevent it. Yet your thighs squeeze together tightly.

The action now elicits a deep growl from his throat, warning you to better behave or he might not be so kind as he is at the moment.

“Now be a good girl and spread your legs for me.” He continues to force his fingers inside of you, tearing at your sensibilities as he watches your face twist in discomfort and humiliation. His violation fuelling your hatred for him only further.

Eventually you have no other choice but to let your legs fall apart.

“That´s a good girl.” Aemond purrs.

His other hands slides up the middle of your body to rest loosely around the base of your neck.

Though he doesn't restrict your breathing yet, it hitches in your throat still. Aemond is unpredictable, even if you were to follow each of his commands.

Then suddenly his fingers leave your aching cunny. The same moment the rustling of clothes fills the room alongside your shallow inhalation.

Even with his hand away from your neck, you only dare to look at the prince from the corner of your eyes. It proves to be enough to take in the sight of pale skin, being exposed until even his breaches fall to the ground.

Aemond grabs your hair to force your lips open in a gasp. Without wasting time, his hardened length gets buried deep in your throat, forcing you to gag and choke as your body desperately tries to adapt to his long cock. Meanwhile Aemond, with a deep groan, began to thrust into you harshly. Tears burn in your eyes and flow over when you see the look of cruel joy in his darkened one. The wet sounds of the blond fucking your throat are beyond lewd and loud enough to be heard by the guards outside the door for sure. At the same time, you can´t stay quiet at the intrusion. Your lungs refuse to be silenced. Even if your cries for help are muffled and masked by the sounds of deep moans, you don´t give up hope one of them would take pity on you.

But nothing happens. The doors stay closed, no one intervenes, the leather cuffs do not budge for you to find a way out yourself. And you are forced to listen to your torturers irregular breathing and expressions of pleasure.

By the time he pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop, Aemond´s cock is soaked with a mix of spit and pre cum, the mixture dribbling down to his stones and wetting your chin from your swollen lips.

However, the assault has not found its end yet.

Aemond climbs in between your legs and lines up his slickened length at your in fear tightened opening. Your fists clench in preparation until the knuckles turn pale. None of it is enough to help against the pain.

Without preparation and with one swift motion, Aemond buries himself inside your core until he bottoms out.

“There we go.” He coos in a taunting tone over your stifled scream. “Feeling nice and full now, are we not, ñuha drakarītsos? My little dragonfire.”

Again, there is no break. He pulled out slowly to give you just the smallest moment to breathe, only to push back in even harsher than before. Every time he thrusts into you, a new scream claws its way out of your lungs, long after they are raw and hurt almost as much as the rest of your body.

Aemond reaches deep inside of you, stretching your still narrowed core, the curve of it making sure to hit all the most sensitive spots inside and out with the assistance of one large hand coming down to rub circles into your pearl to get you to loosen up.

His efforts, to your detriment, are fruitful sooner than late.

Under Aemond´s ministrations your body begins to betray you. Writhing and squirming against your will. The way liquid fire flows through your veins, calling for more and the feel of his stones slapping against your backside with every thrust. At the same time bile rises in your throat from how wrong this is. This shouldn´t make you feel good. None of it.

“Are you finally realising your place in the world, ñuha drakarītsos? Are you ready to give in to me?” Aemond leans down to let his breath tickle your ear.

His hand finds its way around your throat again, warning you not to say the wrong thing.

“Never. I will never bow my head to a levereter like you…” You are cut off by Aemond´s hand squeezing your throat tight enough to cut off any air flow.

Helplessly you gasp for air, as he keeps rutting into you, unflinching. Luckily your torturer shows a smidge of mercy, letting go of your neck just as the black dots begin to dance in your vision begin to grow.

“I will give you another chance. Are you ready to submit to me?” He puts extra emphasis on every word as he spits them out like sone expired food.

“You may ask as often as you wish. My answer will not change.” You shoot back in the same tone, spitting in his face afterwards.

“Oh, I will make you regret this.” The prince growls angrier than you had ever seen anyone. It is not a threat, especially not one made idly. It is a promise that he means to fulfil.

Until long past sunset, Aemond pounds you into the mattress, to a point where you pass overstimulation by a longshot. His seed leaks out of your swollen, numb folds to stain the bed sheets. A red print of his hand signals where he had cut off your breath repeatedly. And still he kept thrusting into you at a brutal pace. Where he still takes the strength from to keep it up you aren´t sure. And if you are honest with yourself, his efforts to make you submit have you unable to coherently think anything at the moment.

Much to Aemond´s delight, he is able to observe your head rolling from side to side weakly, your whole body shaking uncontrollably, the fight entirely gone from your spent muscles. At least for now. You have resorted to begging him to stop on a barely coherent mumbling tone, raw from everything that has happened prior, which is answered by a wolfish smirk as Aemond finally slows his hip movements.

The slower thrusts allow him to lean down one last time to suck purple and blue marks into the sensitive skin around the one his hand had left earlier. Some pitiful, scratchy and quite hurtful whines leave your mouth in response to the prince´s doings. Observing his masterpiece it only takes Aemond a few more pumps to climax one last time.

Through hazy eyes and an even hazier mind you barely register him pulling out. Your senses are overwhelmed by the low light of the moon reflecting off his hair to make it shimmer like liquid silver and the stench of has previously transpired. You are exhausted, eyes barely able to keep open as Aemond gets off the bed to clean his cock and get redressed.

Once he is finished caring for himself, the blond, releases your weakened limbs from the restraints. Then he climbs in bed next to you, though he makes no attempt to share his blanket with you, nor show any care towards your still far-gone mind. Why would he you were naught more than a spoil of war, a toy to be used and thrown away once it became too broken. He seemed to sense however that there was some fight left in you, even if at the moment you did not.

“You better be ready to bow to me on the morrow. Or there will be more punishment. I do not mind either way. It is up to you if I will your dream or your worst nightmare.” Aemond rasps, the tiredness in his voice clearly audible even through the fog that seemed to want to stay in your brain. You don´t remember much of what followed that night. Somehow he ended up with one of his arms laid loosely over your middle. Though the air between the two of you remains as hostile as before.

He knows there is no fondness for him in your heart, no trust. He can’t blame you for it. In all honesty he does not even care much for it. You belonged to him now either way. His little dragonfire.

[void-wolfie]

i love you. i support you.

summary: jenna finds you on the bathroom floor puking. [request]

pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader

tw: eating disorders, bulimia, terrible writing lol

words: 1.08k

a/n: I don't have any experience with eating disorders so this may not be an accurate description. I know bulimia affects people in different ways and I did my best to research and depict this disorder in an authentic manner. if you have an eating disorder you should definitely seek help. it took me a while to find the right words to write this but hopefully this is what you were asking for anon :)

*if mentions of eating disorders (i.e.; anorexia, bulimia, etc.) trigger you please refrain from reading

Jenna was sitting across the dinner table from you, her plate almost empty, unlike yours, which you'd barely made a dent in. You'd eaten a little bit, but you didn't feel like eating anymore, you just kept pushing the rest of your food around with your fork.

Jenna watched you mindlessly push the food around on your plate, completely unaware of her eyes on you. She was worried. You'd been acting strange for a while now, and that bubbly, carefree demeanor you carried proudly seemed to be fading away.

She chalked it up to stress at first, work was rough for you and she hadn't been able to spend as much time with you due to her own projects. But it felt like there was something else going on as well, she just couldn't figure out what.

"Babe?"

Your head shot up, finally noticing her worried expression. It sent a wave of guilt through you; you hadn't meant to make her worry...

"Is everything okay?" She seemed wary of asking like you were some ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

"Yeah, fine," you forced a small smile, trying your best to ease your girlfriend's worries, "I'll be right back, I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

You got up from the table as fast as humanly possible while trying not to look suspicious, a task easier said than done. Especially when your girlfriend is great at reading body language.

You made sure to shut the bathroom door behind you, instantly turning on the sink to drown out any noise.

Your stupid thoughts, they were at it again. You often felt safe in Jenna's presence, like your own insecurities couldn't touch you. But right now, there was a war raging inside your mind and you were quickly losing.

You knew looking in the mirror right now would be a death sentence, so you avoided that, instead, focusing on the way your hands gripped the white countertop.

It's just in your head. It's all in your head. You kept telling yourself. You can control it. Don't listen to it.

But the other little voice in your head was screaming, begging, clawing its way through the caverns of your mind. If it were any louder you wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors down the street could hear it. Fat. Fat. Fat. Too many calories.

Fat. Need to purge.

Ignore it. It can't control you.

Purge!

Shut up!

It started to dawn on you that maybe you were fighting a losing battle. Destined to lose no matter how long you fought.

Jenna was worried. You ran to the bathroom fairly quickly. Something wasn't right, she could feel it. She could hear the sink running, drowning out any noise.

Tired of the uncertainties rolling around in the back of her mind, she made her way to the bathroom, pressing her ear up to the door to listen in. Yes, it was an invasion of privacy, but she needed to make sure you were okay.

For a moment, all she could hear was the sound of the sink running. Then she heard it, it practically echoed against the bathroom walls. The sound of puking.

She gently pushed open the bathroom door, just to confirm if her suspicions were true. Through the crack of the door, she could see you slumped over the toilet, your knees digging into the tile floor as you gripped the bowl and emptied the contents of your stomach.

Jenna pushed open the door the rest of the way. She sat down on the floor next to you, trying to give you space while still being close enough to rub your back soothingly.

She didn't say anything, just sat there, doing her best to provide you with comfort.

It had been quiet for a few minutes now. You were silently waiting for the next wave of vomit, but there didn't seem to be one coming. The tears had stopped flowing long ago, but the salty tracks were still wet against your cheeks trailing down to your chin. Your throat ached and you could feel the shame of the situation beginning to seep in.

"It's back, isn't it?" It was Jenna who'd broken the silence, barely even whispering in the quiet of the bathroom. The only noise was the sink still softly running in the background. Part of you was glad she left the sink running, the sound of the water was better than having to listen to your puking echo in dead silence.

You nodded, silently answering Jenna's question.

You told Jenna about your eating disorder long ago, when the two of you first started dating. You didn't give her many details, and she didn't push you to tell her. She knew the basics, and she was glad you trusted her enough to tell her anything at all. You were in recovery; you were doing well. At least you were till a few weeks ago. All it took was a bad fight with a close friend and a few comments about your past to send you spiraling. You relapsed that day and have been struggling to manage it since.

Jenna's hand still rested on your back, doing her best to try and comfort you, "How can I help?"

"I don't know..." You answered truthfully.

"We're going to get through this together, okay? I love you. I support you."

If it weren't for the conflicting tide of emotions washing over you, you'd probably be smiling like a love-sick fool. I love you. I support you. You said that to Jenna every time she had to go away for filming or movie premieres or whatever else her busy schedule had planned. It had become routine between the two of you, one that had become a source of comfort for both of you. Now it was her turn to support you.

"Let's get you cleaned up, okay."

You let Jenna help clean you up. She made sure you brushed your teeth extra well, making you use mouthwash twice just to be safe. She helped you into the shower and helped your tired form get dressed after. And when it was all said and done, she made sure you were cozy in bed before putting on your favorite movie to fall asleep to. The talk of figuring out a plan was promised to be done tomorrow, for now, all you wanted was comfort and your girlfriend, and Jenna was more than happy to help with both of those things.

[botnasty]

Part Four: No More Theory

Roommate!Bucky Barnes X F!Reader

Summary: Gone are the theories...

Words: 1,2K words

Warnings: ANGST, THIS IS ANGST CITY, then fluffy cheesiness :)

Note: All mistakes are mine and please tell me if I’m missing any warnings. Also sorry on the wait for this part, completely had a writers block.

Not proofread

Series Masterlist

Laying in bed, you never felt more defeated in your life. Your mind was screaming at you for being stupid for thinking what you and Bucky had was exclusive. You couldn’t be mad at him for going after someone else tonight, you two never talked and made what you had/did more than what it really was: two friends having fun without any feelings. You didn’t want to believe it, but what happened today at the Halloween party made you open your eyes. You were just his friend with benefits. 

You whipped the tears falling on your damp cheeks and pulled the duvet closer to you. You didn’t know how tomorrow was going to be fairing, but one thing for sure is, you were going to stop whatever that was happening between you two before you got hurt. Never once had you let a man hurt you before, it won’t start now.

You picked up your phone from the bedside table and you could see so many texts. 25 from Natasha, 3 from Sam, but none from the person that mattered the most. Whatever, he was probably busy with that girl. In your mind, you hoped she was taking good care of him, but your hurt was aching. Why did you have to screw your friendship with that “Theory” bullshit? 

You closed your lamp and purged you into the peaceful darkness that is sleep - when the door opened. Only one other person other than you had the keys to the apartment and - because you didn’t want to deal with it right now - you fastly put your head on your pillow and closed your eyes, trying your hardest to regulate your breathing as you could hear footsteps coming closer. 

“Toots?” Bucky whispered. “Are you awake?” The footsteps stopped. Why was it so hard to breathe normally in his presence?

You felt a slight touch on your cheeks. “My beautiful, beautiful, toots.” You could feel his breath on your forehead and the slight touch of his lips on your nose. “Wake up.” He  said softly. You didn’t want to. You feared what you were going to say or do if you did. A kiss on your forehead. “Wake up, beautiful.” On your eyelid - which you couldn’t help but move. “Come back to me, toots.” And lastly on your lips before you couldn’t take it anymore. Your eyes felt like burning from holding your tears.

You slowly opened them. He was kneeled down right at the side of the bed. Just his smile alone made you want to just forget it happened and continue whatever it is you had. You waked and pulled yourself into a sitting position, pulling your cover closer to you like it was some sort of shield for your emotions. You almost jumped when he cupped your jaw and kissed your forehead. “I missed you, toots.” You looked at the clock, it hadn’t even been 2h since you left the party.

“I’ve only been gone for 2 hours, Bucky. I’m sure you would’ve been able to find more important people to spend your night with.” You rubbed your eyes to remove any trace that you were about to cry. Not in front of him. Never. 

“Toots, look at me.” You placed your hand down your lap and looked at him, his eyes were still bloodshot from all the weed he had taken during the party. “I love you.” Your heart exploded. It was not what you expected and you were mad. How dare him.

How dare him!

Fucking flirting and using the same technic he did on you with someone else not even a few hours before he said those words to you. What a fucking fraud of a man you were living with. You fought yourself to scoff at his words. 

He placed his forehead on yours. “I love you a whole lot. That’s why I can’t bear not being in the same room as you. You make everything so much better, you know.” Now that was just high person talk. 

You let out a small smile. “Come sleep, Bucky. You are high right now and are saying a bunch of bullshit. It’s time for you to sleep.” You went from your bed to drag him to your room. You wouldn’t let him sleep in yours when you barely could stand him right now. 

But Bucky didn’t move one bit.

“You don’t believe me…” Is what he said almost to yourself. 

Now the scoff escaped your mouth. “No I do not, Bucky. For so many reasons.”

He got up and tried to get close to you, but you stopped him with your hand.” First, you are high. And you know how you get when you are high. You ramble about things over and over, tell everyone you love them and you hug them. So, this certainly doesn't make me special.”

“You know—”

“Second, we never established what we had. All we do is fuck. Sure, you sometimes kiss me, we cuddle, but we never specify what’s going on between us.”

“I thought it was—”

“And last, you were literally flirting and using that ‘theory’ bullshit on someone else two hours ago. How can I believe that you love me when all this tells me otherwise, Bucky?” He stayed silent, looking down. His eyebrows frowning. “Do you see where I am coming from?”

“What girl?”

“The girl at the party! The one wearing a nurse costume. After you went to the bathroom, I tried to look for you and I found you being all cozy with her.”

“Oh, her.”

You placed your hands on your hips. “Yes, her.” Anger was bubbling inside of you wanting to come out like a volcano. 

“I thought she was you. You know I am not wearing my glasses.”

You shook your head. “So you were wearing contacts, what does it have to do with anything right now, Bucky.” You said desperately.

“Yes, I was wearing contacts, but those that make your iris look red, for my costume. So, I could barely see.” Your arms falling beside your body. Bucky placed his hands on your cheek, your eyes directly looking in his and he was right, his eyes were completely red, not from the weed, but because of the contacts. All anger vanished and all you could feel was shame. Shame for thinking he was playing you, for thinking he was just like the others that had hurt you. “I thought she was you, toots. I genuinely thought she was. I love you and I don’t see myself with anyone but you. Do you seriously think that, after years of trying to get your attention, I would mess it up for a random fuck?” You shook your head. “Exactly, my love. So please, believe me when I say this : I love you. I have loved you since I met you and I will love you until you let me.” 

You placed both hands on his wrist and looked deep into his eyes. “I love you too. Maybe not as long as you did, but I love you and I want no one else but you.”

And you kissed as the moonlight shines upon the two of you.

Thank you so much for waiting and reading:)

[itsclydebitches]

ok ok ok but imagine trent's daughter, Phoebe and Henry, on a playdate or exploring stadium together? Like how have these kiddos not become friends??

YOU'RE SO RIGHT, ANON.

Headcanon time:

During a weekend training Henry is visiting again, Roy's sister is sick so he's justifying the Best Uncle award Phoebe gave him last year (it's very glittery), and Trent's babysitter unexpectedly bailed. So they all trail into work with kids that day and Rebecca is like, "Excuse me this is not a fucking daycare."

She says this while giving them all a kiss.

Pheobe: "That's a bad word, Ms. Welton, you owe me a pound."

Henry and Phoebe immediately race outside to play with the team but Trent's daughter, who is both younger and has never played football before, is just the shiest little bean about joining in. Trent, expert in anxious parenting, is prepared to run damage control with her favorite coloring books but Ted holds him back and within ten minutes Phoebe is showing her the ropes while Henry is Very Seriously working to tie her hair back for her.

Henry: "Excuse me, Mr. Independent sir, but can I borrow another hair-tie?"

Trent: "... how do you know my name?"

Trent, internally: Wait. Mr. Independent isn't my name??

Trent, with shorter hair than in Season 2: "Never mind that. How do you know I have hair-ties?"

Henry, answering both questions: "Daddy."

[Trent.exe has stopped working]

Rebecca, shouting across the pitch: "Give her pigtails, Henry! There you go!"

So the crimmlet learns some football and Trent, after recovering from his Omg Ted Talks About Me to His Son panic almost sorta kinda cries about it. By this point the himbos are absolutely in love with the trio and would die for them, no hesitation. (Dani actually says this, which is mildly alarming for the kids). After some super secret techniques are shared -- Phoebe: "This is how you kick the ball into someone's face. Uncle Ted loves it!" -- they all decide that they should probably get some actual training done. Besides, Henry just brought up the West Ham game he went to and... uh...

Yeah. Best to scoot them on out of there. Unconditional love doesn't trump hatred of West Ham, unfortunately.

The stadium houses a team of pro athletes and a massive staff of sleep-deprived professionals, meaning that there's plenty of food to go around for lunch. Ted (childhood personified) and Trent (a domestic mess post-divorce) are both happy to let the kids pig out on snacks. A growled "Fuck that" from Roy sends them off to the kitchen downstairs.

Do stadiums have kitchens? No idea. Probably not. This one does!

Trent, carryout aficionado: "So... does anyone know how to cook?"

Roy: "Do I fucking look like I have time to cook?"

Trent: "This was your idea."

Roy: "Shut up."

Ted: "Hmm. I'm afraid I'm more of a baking man myself."

The kids have been sitting at the counter, heads ping-ponging back and forth as they watch their three guardians fail the basic task of feeding them. Luckily for their faith in adults, it's about this moment that the crimmlet remembers that this is Ted.

Biscuit Ted.

Did you know that Trent Crimm used to be in a band? A metal band? That for six months in college he rebelled in the only way he knew how - artistically - and screamed everything he was keeping bottled up inside until he learned to purge himself through vicious prose instead?

His daughter inherited his lungs.

A six-year-old's high-pitched screaming + the reverberation of a primarily metal space = Significant Pain. Ted's, "Holy moly, Ms. Banshee!" is barely audible and Roy just nopes out of the situation without a shred of guilt. Phoebe and Henry -- immune to loud noises in the way only children can be -- exchange a A Look over the top of the crimmlet's head. Because she's screaming for the biscuits Ted gives her every week.

Henry hasn't had his Dad's cookies in six months.

Phoebe hasn't had them at all.

Now the screaming is joined by Very Indignant Yelling.

Trent: "Ted just make them some fucking biscuits."

Ted: "Right because that's healthier than the vending machines!?"

But one sugary meal is worth saving their eardrums, so.

There's an immediate change in tune when Ted asks who's gonna help him lick the bowl. Instant peace. Baking with three kids is messy, to put it mildly, and Ted isn't entirely sure how flour got into Trent's hair, but it definitely has more white streaks in it than it did this morning. Without thinking, he reaches up to smooth some of the flour away, fingers dragging gently through a lock and brushing his cheek in the process.

[Trent.exe has stopped working x2]

Crimmlet, tugging his pantleg with little flour handprints: "Daddy can the biscuit man stay forever?"

Trent, voice strangled: "... sure, honey."

Higgins pops in to find an absolute disaster of a kitchen and the normally unruffled Trent with cheeks the color of maraschino cherries (what's that about?). After getting caught up on events -- what they're willing to admit to, anyway -- he gently informs them that he could have fixed the kids a meal not made out of sugar and butter. Ah well. Too late now.

Higgins: "Also, Ted, shouldn't you be coaching the boys?"

Ted: "I'm sure Beard has it well in hand."

[Hard cut to the team seated semi-circle around Beard. He's lecturing on the drugs they can take without tanking their careers. Many are taking notes.]

The one good thing about a sugar high is that the crash comes right afterwards. Pheobe managed to get the crimmlet on her shoulders and the three of them raced off to explore the stadium, burning with short-term energy. Trent is mildly concerned about them sneaking out, but Ted reassures him that there's security at every exit. You know, to keep any... uh...

Trent: Press out?

Ted: Not all the press.

Trent: Oh, so I'm an exception am I?

Higgins, still standing there, forgotten, thinking about the book Trent is writing and how yes, he's literally an exception??

Ted: Trent Crimm you are not only an exception, you are exceptional.

[Trent.exe has stopped working x3]

Higgins, internally: OHHHHHHHHH

Later, there is a brief moment of panic when they can't find the kids -- Roy: "Don't worry. I once lost Phoebe and she turned up in my neighbor's bathtub with a new haircut." Ted: "Huh. That there's a story for another time." -- but Will ushers them quietly into the storeroom where they're piled like puppies on a bed of clean laundry, fast asleep. Ted snaps a picture and immediately sends it to the Richmond group chat. The himbos all come running to see the wholesomeness for themselves.

Will, whispering: They're so cute!! ... wait, now I need to do the laundry again :(((

Dani: No. Do not. Their beautiful, sleepy essence will help us win games.

Will: ... weird, but alright.

Henry's getting a little big for this now, but Ted manages to lift him bridle style and gently presses a kiss into his hair. Trent tenderly picks his little girl up, hand cradling her curls.

Roy slings Phoebe over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She doesn't stir.

Rebecca sternly tells them that they're never to do this again, but also if she doesn't see the trio soon they'll regret it. Here's the ten pounds I owe Phoebe. Also there had better be some biscuits left, Ted.

Henry only wakes when they're back at the apartment, Beard flipping through nature documentaries while Ted kicks his legs up into his lap. Henry squeezes between the two of them.

Ted: "You have fun today, kiddo?"

Henry: "Uh huh."

Ted: "Hey, what's Trent's daughter's name anyway?"

Henry: "Oh... I never asked."

Beard tuts. "Why you wanna know so bad?"

Ted: "I just figure I should know his kid's name before I ask him out."

[Trent, twelve miles West, suddenly and without any warning getting hit with an absolute fuckton of feelings]:

[dailydragon08]

Homecoming

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader   Summary: Although you're skilled in the ways of the Force and use that to your advantage in your medbay job, you always thought Luke Skywalker would be the one rescuing you, not the other way around. Warnings: reader gets shot with a blaster in the arm and leg, but injuries are not described in detail. Canon-typical violence. Reader has been separated from their family at age 10, but kept what exactly happened to them vague for self insert purposes. A/N:  "Remnants" is a series of one shots in no particular order about the budding relationship between you and Luke as he trains you in the ways of the Force. Remnants!Reader and Luke's first meeting. This is my first fic in a while and my first time writing action, so please bear with me! Hoping to get back into writing more frequently now. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated and my Remnants masterlist can be found linked in my pinned post on my blog! Enjoy!

**

“Careful,” you said as you helped yet another rebel soldier onto the transport heading back to Home One, where you were typically stationed in medbay. But today, someone needed to be on the ground to give first aid to any critically wounded soldiers so they could survive the trip back to base—and that someone had been you. Not out of any obligation. But something felt like it had been pulling you to the dusty plains on-planet, and you were never one to refuse a call from the Force. 

A nearby explosion made you jump as the soldier ducked into the small ship. The pilot leaned out the door to shout over the racket, “You coming back as well?”

“I—” There it was again: the pull from this morning. The world stilled as you instinctively let yourself sink further into the Force. Time slowed and you were aware of all the souls on the battlefield, felt their fear, helplessness, rage, as particles of dirt and dust flew everywhere. They seemed to whiz by in slow motion so that you could see every facet of the tiny pieces of debris and in the middle of all the chaos, one particularly powerful presence about to knock on death’s door. They were close and felt different from the others—easier to grasp and hold onto. You’d felt this presence at rebel functions and on Home One before, and just like every time before, it somehow reached back until you were intertwined inexplicably before everything suddenly snapped back. 

“Um, hello?” the pilot waved his hand in front of your face. “You coming back or not?”

You blinked. “Sorry. No, I’m staying here.”

“This may be the last transport for a while.”

You felt the presence reach out to you again like a soft hand smoothing over your shoulder and shook your head. “No, I’m staying.”

Another boom and several screams echoed in the distance as he shrugged. “Your funeral.”

You barely waited for the ship’s door to close before tightening the strap of your medical bag and sprinting towards the source of the connection, trying to keep it as steady as possible through the Force. Of course, the one day you left your grandfather’s old lightsaber in your quarters was the day you might need it. Typically, it came with you everywhere, but it was left behind in your rush to play field doctor. Your parents had taught you what they knew of the Force before you’d been separated from them at age 10 and your savior and adoptive father, an old clone that had somehow escaped conversion during the Purge and joined the rebellion named Rex, took over your combat training. 

You weaved between the alleyways of abandoned stone houses in pursuit of your goal, hiding behind fallen objects and receiving cover from your comrades as Stormtroopers continued their assault. Although the emperor and Darth Vader were dead and the empire was fractured, small remnants remained here and there, trying to reorganize and reclaim power through their moffs’ and superior officers’ orders. 

A blaster shot grazed past your shoulder enough to tear through your jacket. You hissed through your teeth, but otherwise ignored it. The feeling of the presence reaching out through the Force, like a soft hand on your shoulder, came again. The touch was just as gentle, but came with a new sense of urgency, and you quickened your pace as the sounds of battle continued to ring around you. 

The presence grew in strength as you reached the end of the maze the neighborhood created. Just as you began to slow your pace so as not to run straight into a crossfire, a Stormtrooper jumped out from behind a nearby dumpster and pulled you down with him. You both writhed on the ground as he wrapped an arm around your neck and his legs around yours, boxing you in. You began rocking your body violently in an attempt to free yourself, managing to free an arm in just enough time to move his blaster away from your neck. He fired just as you moved, getting you at close range right in the calf. You cried out in pain, taking a deep breath before bringing your head forward, then whipping it back as hard as you could.

You winced as the trooper cried out, but didn’t indulge the pounding in your head as his arms fell to his sides. You stood, grabbing his blaster out of his hand and bringing the butt down hard on his helmet. He grunted before going limp. You nudged his foot with yours and when he didn’t move, held tight to the blaster and crouched by the opening to the plain ahead. 

Several crashed ships, dumpsters, and debris were scattered over the dirt with a large circle of Stormtroopers and Darktroopers nearby. The presence felt so close that you knew your quarry was in trouble in the middle of it. But this was away from the main fight, and the only other rebels that had been here before were all either unconscious or dead on the ground. 

A mechanical beeping nearby caught your attention and you looked just in time to see a Darktrooper round a fallen x-wing. You barely scrambled inside the lid of an overturned dumpster before it began shooting at you. You heard it thunk closer and held your blaster close to your chest. Another softer, more timid set of beeps and whistles sounded just in front of you. You jumped, pointing your blaster toward the sound only to find a little blue astromech wobbling on its legs in front of you. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as the Darktrooper continued to descend. You could feel the shots of its blaster shaking the dumpster and leaving searing holes you did your best to avoid. Turning to the astromech, you whispered, “You go around back and electrocute him while I distract him?”

The droid chirped before whizzing out of the dumpster, hugging the side closely. The Darktrooper was close enough now that you could hear the whirring of its ankle joints. You took a deep breath through your nose and blew it slowly out your mouth before squaring your shoulders and whipping around the corner, blaster at the ready. 

The imperial droid was barely inches from you as you raised your blaster toward its head. Before it could adjust its aim to shoot you, blue electricity engulfed its frame and it twitched and shook. You scampered back several steps as its head spun in circles, watching it fall to the ground with a solid thud to reveal the astromech. It chirped and beeped cheerfully before wiggling back and forth. 

You gave it a small smile and pat on the head. “Good work, buddy—whoa, hey.” A small claw shot out of the droid’s side and grabbed onto your jacket, slowly pulling you towards the x-wing and closer to the circle of imperials. 

“Is your master in that circle?”

The droid wiggled his body in what could’ve been a nod, but a Stormtrooper turned to face you before you could reach cover. “Hey! Over there!”

You cursed before diving behind the x-wing as the droid squealed in terror and sped after you. The ship provided decent cover for the moment as blaster shots rained down on you (and some even went far past you; typical Stormtroopers, but you weren’t complaining). 

“How are we gonna get out of this one?” you grumbled before peering around the x-wing. 

You groaned and pulled back as something small caught the sun's light and blinded you. You risked another look and saw a small, silver cylinder only a few feet away from you in the dirt: a lightsaber. You frowned. It certainly wasn’t yours. And the only other person you knew of in the rebellion who owned a lightsaber was—

Oh. Oh. Now you definitely had to save him. 

You turned to the droid beside you. “So that makes you R2?”

The astromech whirred excitedly and if the situation wasn’t so dire, you would’ve laughed at how it seemed proud and excited to be recognized. 

You glanced at the lightsaber on the ground again and saw half of the imperials coming towards you while the other half stayed closely huddled around a figure clad in black. Two Darktroopers kept a firm grip on his arms, twisting them behind his back before forcing him to his knees. You made eye contact and felt him reach for you again through the Force, this time with an urgent, unspoken plea to run while you still could. 

Closing your eyes, you tuned out R2’s urgent whistles to sink into the calming nature of the Force. You could feel the man’s presence even more clearly now and felt his fear—not for himself, but for you. Not just surprise, but a sort of awe and relief rolled through him in waves at finding someone who he could not only reach for, but who could reach back. You sensed he’d lived his whole life as if he was invisible in the Force and could watch the goings on, but never join. It was like constantly waving at passersby and having all hope squashed of someone ever waving back—until now. He seemed so elated to find someone like him that you were sure it affected his ability to withhold these strong feelings from your connection. You hadn’t even been properly introduced, but he was already cherishing your connection—and fearing whether you would survive long enough to be introduced. 

Focus. You honed in on the world around you and time again seemed to slow to a crawl. You locked all your concentration on the weapon in front of you, feeling the Dark and Stormtroopers’ feet move ever closer until they were only a few steps away from what might be your only saving grace. Grab the lightsaber! you thought you heard one shout. 

You remembered the Jedi phrase your parents taught you. “I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.” Taking one final deep breath, you let your hand leave the cover of the x-wing to reach towards Luke Skywalker’s weapon. 

R2 let out a started beep as the lightsaber zipped into your hand and you ignited the green blade. You took a split second to admire the detail on the hilt before slinging the blaster’s strap over your arm and stepping out into the fray. 

You easily batted the blaster fire away—just as you’d practiced for years with Rex and your grandfather’s lightsaber. Several of the shots successfully deflected into the troopers, sending them sprawling on the ground. R2 carefully zipped around the battlefield and incapacitated as many Darktroopers as possible, leaving you a clear shot to Luke. 

You slung the blaster off your shoulder and threw it as hard as you could, using the Force to guide the weapon onward. Dust that had kicked up from the fight made it hard to see, but you could sense precisely where everything was through the Force and used it as your guide. You slingshot the gun into the heads of the Darktroopers who were holding Luke hard enough to make them stumble and let go. He took his opportunity and grabbed the gun from where it fell as you continued to deflect fire and cut through armor and mechanics alike. 

Although you’d gotten plenty of Force training from your parents, which you’d continued via your grandfather’s journal after you’d been separated, and combat training from Rex, you’d never been in the thick of battle like this before. At least not fighting. You had shot and killed several Stormtroopers before, but always from a distance. Never like this—never close enough to hear their hiss of breath as they fell or the mechanical whirring of a Darktrooper malfunctioning. It was anxiety, relief, and guilt all at once, as well as anger toward the people who had made this conflict necessary in the first place. 

Again, you felt a cooling, calming presence wash over you, reminding you that everything would be all right, and you reached back just as gently, even as you both saw to the enemy. The green saber in your hands slashed through the closest Darktrooper, cleaving it straight in two before a low, mechanical growl sounded behind you. You spun, unsure if you could raise your defense in time, but a sudden blaster shot clean through the head rendered it useless. You stepped out of the way as it crashed to the ground. 

You urgently looked around, adrenaline pumping wildly, before realizing the only sound you could hear nearby was your own heavy breathing. All the troopers lay scattered on the ground around you with no more in sight who could pose a threat. You sheathed the saber’s blade, taking comfort in the soft whoosh it made, before closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing. In the sudden silence, a steady wind whistled across the plain. By force of habit, you reached out to check that Rex was safe and finally let yourself fully relax when you sensed that he was. 

The familiar presence reached out to you again, this time from just in front of you. Although this battle wasn’t the first time you’d sensed it, you’d never had a chance to feel just how strong and solid it was. It was light like air, but somehow also steady and unwavering, with a twinge of darkness but a steadfast choice not to give into it. Even though you’d just now really met, it had the comforting sense of coming home to an old friend and it was hard not to already feel a level of affection for him because of it. You could feel his affection and curiosity flowing back to you in equal measure. It made you almost afraid to open your eyes in case this homecoming within the Force was all a dream and would melt away. 

A warm, rough surface brushing against the back of your hand forced you to finally look. The hero of the rebellion stood in front of you, his fingers gently brushing the hand still holding his lightsaber. His eyes were even more blue than the sky above you, but somehow the icy color still held a warmth and concern unlike any you’d ever seen. He made himself so open and after all the stories about what he’d lost and how many imperials he killed, it was shocking in a way that made you want to protect him at all costs. His face, although worn and scarred, held so much depth and kindness and you wondered what kind of hell he’d gone through to come through war with so much love to give still—and you could sense exactly how much he still had in him through your bond, and how excited he was to maybe share some of that with the first Force-sensitive person his age. There was a weight to him, but it somehow felt settled, as if he’d accepted himself as he was and the heaviness as just another part of him. His signature held a bittersweet taste: half melancholy, half hope for a better future. 

It didn’t help your gawking that he was strikingly handsome—strong jaw with a jacket and pants that fit him like a glove and showed off his toned physique. Not to mention the actual glove on his right hand and the fact that he’d made sure to touch you with the uncovered one for skin-to-skin contact. The wind brushed his brown hair over his forehead and you couldn’t help but notice how tan his skin was and how calloused his hands were. You thought you remembered whisperings of the rebellion’s Boy Wonder who blew up the Death Star starting out as a clueless moisture farmer from Tatooine, but got too lost in the planes of his face to focus. 

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his hand still gently brushing yours and pulling you back to the present. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, surprised to sense him having a similar struggle through the Force. “Here’s your lightsaber back.”

He took it from your hand, letting his fingers linger against yours for what felt like a deliberately long moment before reattaching it to his belt. “Thank you for the help.”

“You seemed like you could use a rescue.”

He smiled and you had to remind yourself to breathe at the sight. “Yes, I got a bit caught off guard with the sheer number of them.”

R2 suddenly whirred and rolled over to stand by his master’s side, beeping excitedly. You both chuckled at his antics as Luke put a comforting hand on his dome. “I’m Luke—”

“Skywalker,” you finished. “I know.”

You regretted saying anything as he gave a stilted nod, suddenly bashful and very interested in his shoes. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s all right.” He met your eyes again and gave you a small smile. “You work in medbay, right? You’re Y/N?”

You tried your best to hide your elation that Luke Skywalker knew who you were, but he undoubtedly picked up on it through the Force. “Yeah, I was on field doctor duty today, but…felt you and that you needed help.”

“I felt you too…” he paused, seeming unsure, before continuing. “I think I’ve felt you several times throughout the war, actually, but could never put a finger on exactly what I was feeling. I guess I never realized another Force-sensitive would feel different to me than someone who isn’t—minus my masters, of course.” He hesitated again. “It…feels good to find someone else who knows the ways of the Force.”

Now it was your turn to inspect your shoes bashfully. “Yeah, it does for me, too.” As you felt the last of the adrenaline leave your body and your eyes landed on the blaster wound on your leg, pain suddenly came pounding to the surface, as did the graze on your shoulder. You weren’t sure how you’d managed to fight as well as you did with injuries, but adrenaline could be a funny thing. The burning, however, was not so funny. 

“Are you hurt?” Luke asked, closing the distance between you and gently touching your intact shoulder. You could feel fear stab through to color his Force signature as he frowned, following your eyes to your leg and wincing. 

“I’m all right—”

“Anywhere else?”

You sighed, somehow knowing you’d be unable to lie to him. “A shot grazed my arm, but I’m okay—”

“Here, um—” He paused as he looked around. “Where’s somewhere you can sit…”

R2 tittered as he dragged an overturned wooden crate over with his retractable claw. 

“Thanks, buddy,” you said as you flopped down harder than you meant to, moving your medical bag to sit on the ground next to you. You opened the flap and began to dig, but Luke’s hands, which dwarfed your own, stopped you.

“Please, let me—unless you’d prefer to do it?” 

His blue eyes were pleading as he stared up from where he’d crouched in front of you, leaving you unsure how anyone could say no to him. “Um, no, if you want to…” You gestured awkwardly to your bag. “Do you need me to talk you through it?”

He chuckled. “Oh no, I’ve had to do this for myself many times—I mean, you work in medbay though, so of course, if you’d prefer—”

“Um, no, you can go ahead.”

“You are the expert, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

You both stared awkwardly at each other for a moment before laughing and quickly looking elsewhere. As he dug through your supplies, you could see a slight pink tinting his cheeks, filing the image away deep in your mind. The fact that you, of all people, had made him blush felt like something to be proud of. 

As he cleaned and bandaged your leg and arm (you didn’t think it warranted a bandage, but he insisted), you told each other of your upbringings, stories from your time in the rebellion, and even sat there for several minutes after the dressings were completed to talk about hobbies and music preferences before your wrist comm beeped. 

“All right there, soldier?” Rex’s voice floated through the speakers. 

“Yeah,” you answered back. “Minor injuries, but I’m fine. I’m with Commander Skywalker and R2-D2.”

“Skywalker?” Rex asked, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Y-yeah?” You frowned at Luke, but he simply shrugged, looking just as confused. 

Rex cleared his throat. “Ah, well, good. The final transport just landed for stragglers. Can you make it here, or need us to come pick you up?”

“I think I’m good to walk.”

Luke gave you a look and although you realized you were looking at your superior, you couldn’t help pulling a face, using your forefinger to pull the tip of your nose up to show him just what you thought of that. He snorted and seemed surprised by the sound that came out of his own mouth, turning his head to smother his laugh as Rex gave you the coordinates. 

“We should be there in 10-15 minutes tops.”

“Copy that, kiddo. See you soon.”

R2 twittered next to you. 

Luke chuckled. “He says you can ride him back to the ship if you want.”

You smiled, but shook your head. “It’s not too bad. I’ll be fine, but thanks, R2.”

Luke helped you stand, keeping his hands on your upper arms to steady you.

You swallowed nervously. “I know you technically are a commander, so sorry if any of that,” you gestured vaguely towards where you’d been sitting, “was, um, out of line or anything.”

Luke’s face fell and he shook his head, rubbing your arms gently. “No, no, please. We’re Jedi. We have to stick together. There’s no rank here.”

“Well, I mean, I’m not technically a Jedi.”

“I could teach you if you’d like. It seems like you have some to teach me as well.”

You smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”

He sighed in relief, as if he thought you might refuse. “Promise you’ll lean on me if your leg gets to be too much on the way back?”

You nodded, hoping you didn’t appear too smitten as he stayed close and kept a hand on the small of your back the entire walk back to the ship.

[ynscrazylife]

Hey for your 4k celebration could you do purge the poison from marina with anyone from the mcu please?

Poisoned Mind, Poisoned Heart | Chapter 1

Series Summary: Dr. Strange turns to you, Wanda’s ex, to help him stop her before it’s too late. Can you do it or will Wanda corrupt you, too?

A/N: This is what came to my head when I listened to the song! Hope it fits. I'm excited for this series to start. Let me know if you want to be on this taglist.

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist

Doctor Stephen Strange was the last person you expected to see when you opened up your door. For a fleeting second, you considered slamming the door in his face, but that type of rudeness was never in your nature, no matter how much the flight in your fight or flight response was yelling at you to do so. “I should really start looking through the peephole before answering my door,” was what you ended up saying with a sigh. 

Stephen fixed you with a small, knowing smile. “I’m going to pretend that’s just because I might’ve been a stranger and not because you don’t want to see me,” he joked. You knew what he was doing - trying to ease you into whatever reason he had for coming over here when he hadn’t seen or spoken to you in years with humor. 

“Well, this isn’t just you being in the neighborhood and wanting to have a nice chat, is it?” You said, glancing down at the intricate costume he adorned. 

Catching onto the fact that you didn’t want him to beat around the bush, Stephen gave you a slight nod. “May I come in?” He asked politely. 

Despite being still weary and a bit nervous, you stepped aside. You knew that if he was coming here, he must have a good reason. Years ago, after the civil war between Steve and Tony, when you left the Avengers and said goodbye to being a superhero, you had strictly instructed everyone to leave you alone unless there was some threat to the universe. You had gone back briefly to help them fight Thanos, but quickly returned to your civilian life afterward. 

Stephen walked in and you closed the door behind him, but didn’t lock it. You weren’t intending for him to stay long. The sorcerer took a moment to look around your hallway, at all the paintings and photos on your walls. “Nice house,” he murmured, picking up a photo of you on a nearby table and looking at it. 

“Stephen,” you warned gently. 

Stephen cleared his throat and set down the photo, turning back to you. “What do you know about what Wanda has gotten up to recently?” He asked. 

It was akin to him dumping a bucket of ice water over your head - you visibly flinched, taken aback. Wanda. You had worked very hard to get over the woman you once loved, the love that ended due to you being on opposite sides of the Accords. Like Natasha, you had sided with Tony not because you really believed in the Accords, but because you wanted to keep the team together. Wanda hadn’t seen it that way and you didn’t exactly blame her for it, until you two started to get into awful screaming matches. 

“I heard on the news about Westview . . . They say that no one’s been able to reach or find her since,” you answered carefully, remembering the conflicting emotions you had when finding out about it all. Even after all this time, you haven't been able to fall out of love. She stuck with you. A part of you hated it, the other part was enchanted by it. You still wanted the best for her and discovering what happened in Westview was painful. 

“That was true, up until now,” Stephen said, taking a small step towards you. 

You tried to hold back the gasp building up in your throat, but you failed. All you could do was bore your eyes into him as you waited for him to continue. 

“There’s this . . . girl. Her name is America Chavez and she has these powers of accessing alternate realities that Wanda wants. I think she’s been corrupted by the Darkhold . . . If she gets access to these alternate realities, there’s no telling what she’ll do,” Stephen said. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, now confused and feeling a little overwhelmed as his words swarmed your head. “Alternate realities?” You questioned. 

“I can explain everything in detail, but I think you can get through to her, Y/N,” Stephen said. 

No matter if you still loved her, if there was some deep part inside you that wanted to help, you still felt reluctant to return to that life. You started to shake your head. “She doesn’t love me, she fell in love with Vision,” you muttered, trying - wanting - to deny it. 

“She never stopped talking about you,” Stephen revealed softly. 

This caused you to squeeze your eyes shut, feelings and memories of another time washing over you all at once. “Stephen, I can’t-” you started to say. 

“Let me explain everything back at the Sanctum Sanctorum and then we can go from there,” Stephen said, his voice still as sweet as honey. So charming and alluring, “This . . . isn’t just a threat to our universe. It’s a threat to all the universes.” 

That was the nail in the coffin - you would never be able to fully rid yourself of your natural, heroic instinct to help people. “Okay,” you agreed, letting out a breath. Despite just telling yourself that you were only agreeing to hear him, you knew deep down, in your heart, what you got yourself into - you were going to try and help. Help Wanda, help Stephen, help the goddamn multiverse.

[kayhi808]

Billy Mine - Home Sweet Home

Masterlist

After weeks of trying to purge her closet of clothes and...stuff, Juliet is exhausted. Falling back onto the floor, "Billy Russo wants to marry me." This thought has been on repeat for the past few weeks in Juliet's mind. Is this even real life? When am I going to wake up from my dream?

*****

"Jules? You home?" Bill let's himself into the apartment. Scanning the living room, he sees her bag on the couch. Upon entering the bedroom, Billy's heart stutters to a stop. Little over a year ago, his girl was the target of a kidnapping attempt. Scattered amongst clothes and boxes, Juliet's bare legs are half visible on the floor of her small walk-in closet. "Bunny!!!" Bill shoves boxes to the side to get to his girl.

Bill's roar jolts Juliet out of her reverie. She screams as Billy hurls into her closet grabbing her. "What the fuck, Bill?!"

"Jesus Christ!!" Standing, Bill turns & punches the door jamb, resting his forehead against it, trying to take calming breaths. Juliet backs away, distancing herself from Bill, moving deeper in to the closet. He's furious! Scary mad.

Trying to be as soft and calming as possible, "Bill?"

He holds up a finger at her & shakes his head against the doorway. After a minute, "Your room looks destroyed, and I see you on the ground unmoving."

She moves closer to Billy, "I've been trying to clean out my closet and get rid of stuff, since we're moving in together. I got overwhelmed with it all & took a break." She hears a growl rumbling in the back of Billy's throat. "You aren't even supposed to be here. You didn't say you were coming over."

"Do I need an invitation now?" Straightening to his full height, glaring down at her.

"No, but you can't be mad at me. It's not my fault." Slowly moving closer to Billy, like she's trying to calm an angry panther. "If I knew you were coming over, I wouldn't have started on the closet & I definitely wouldn't have been laying on the floor waiting for you to find me like that." Billy pulls her to him, resting his head on the top of hers. Settling her palm over his rapidly beating heart, "I'm sorry I scared you."

"I thought you were fucking dead." BIll squeezes her even tighter.

Pulling him down into a kiss, "Oh, Billy Mine, you should know you can't get rid of me that easily. "

*****

Juliet can't deny that Billy's penthouse is impressive. It's very modern, very sleek and very stylish. Very minimalistic. And yet she doesn't feel at home or relaxed in a place like this.

Neighborhoods, homes, floorplans, decor have been occupying her mind since they decided to find a place together. Weekends are spent looking at websites trying to agree on places to see. Cuddled up on Billy's couch, Juliet has her tablet out scrolling through homes. "Morningside?"

"I'm not living in Harlem!"

"It's not..."

"It's Harlem. Next!" Bill reaches over & deletes the neighborhood from the filter. "Kips Bay, I like."

"No, that's where my parents tried to stick me. Chelsea? Hell's Kitchen? You'll be close to Anvil." Billy gives a non-committal shrug, because it is close to Anvil, but it's really just outside of the Village. "So, you're open to those neighborhoods?"

"Do you know how much a townhouse costs in Chelsea?"

"Townhouse? I've been searching condos. You want a townhouse?"

"Do you want to raise our kids in a condo?"

"Whoa!" Pushes against Billy, to sit up, "Where did these kids come from?"

Smiling up at Jules, shrugging, "I'm not doing this again with you. This move is it." She nervously laughs. "Are we not on the same page?

"Um...holy shit." Billy gives her a minute before pulling her down against him. Cradling her against his chest. "I didn't think 'big picture'. I was just thinking us moving in together, getting married...later."

"Do you not want a family?" His arms tightening around her, waiting for her answer.

Turning to look at him & whispers, "You know I do." It was a dream that Jules was always scared to voice.

"Do you want a family with me?"

Her voice breaking, "You're the only one I've ever dreamed of having a family with, Billy Mine." She buries her face into his chest & cries. They both grew up in the foster care system, but only Juliet was fortunate enough to escape it. Bill suffered abuse from his mother & through the system. For him to admit that this is the future he wants with her, it's like a sacred promise. Billy is in this relationship for life and beyond.

"Well then," clearing his throat, "Maybe you should be looking for something a little bigger than a condo, hmm?"

*****

On a bright sunny morning Billy got his wish. The loan officer and realtor just left his Anvil office. They just signed mortgage papers to a townhouse just outside of the Upper East Side, Lenox Hill, to Jules chagrin. They ended up selling her condo and his penthouse to afford it, but it's an investment for their future. Their forever home.

Popping a bottle of champagne, "We did it!"

Laughing, "It's 10am, Billy!"

"I got orange juice in the fridge if you want to make this a mimosa," handing her a glass.

Holding out her glass, "To us."

"Not too bad for a couple of orphans." Touches her glass and sips his champagne. Juliet wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Burying his face in her neck, "We finally got our Home Sweet Home, Bunny." Deep within the confident businessman, a dark eyed foster boy, who never thought this dream would ever come true for him, is overjoyed.

@imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @snowkestrel @e-dubbc11 @bustlingcrowdsxorxsilentsleepers @jvanilly @k-marzolf

[alexanderlightweight]

Hi my gremlin brain just activated and now I can’t stop thinking of the prompt, what if Asmodeus instead of Magnus’ magic, asked for the parabatai bond. Thinking that if Magnus severed the bond then Alex would breakup with Magnus and Magnus would come crying back to edom. Only Alec loves and trusts Magnus and is tired of being second fiddle to Jace so he understands that the bond has to be sacrificed to finish the owl and save Jace. Idk. I didn’t really have a whole idea, just Asmodeus trying to wreak havoc.

here we go, i had quite a bit of fun with the idea of asmodeus asking for the bond because it only makes sense that alec and jace pay the price to save jace rather than magnus who already risked himself going to edom

alec is super pragmatic and he knows everything has a cost. in my opinion it was super weird magnus paid the price and alec is only more relieved that jace is still alive than that the bond is broken. not only that, magnus saved him from what should have been a fatal wound since his arrows are adamas.

so i hope you enjoy

<3 lumine

-

Magnus gets back from Edom in time to see Jace driving one of Alexander’s own arrows into Magnus’ beloved’s heart.

Magnus screams in fury as he lashes out, the strength of his magic throwing Jace back, purging him with Asmodeus’ borrowed power. He uses his own magic to trap him there, ensuring he’ll be stuck under a barrier until he’s found.

There is a price to be paid for the magic he’s using and if he doesn’t pay quickly, the price will increase.

If Magnus doesn’t break Alexander’s parabatai bond now and quickly, then his father will think he’s backing down. It’s with agony that Magnus floods Alexander’s body with his magic.

Magnus portals them both away, leaving Jace unconscious in the alley.

He gets Alexander on their bed and strips him with magic, snapping all of the arrow away but the head imbedded in his boy’s heart. Alexander’s eyes flutter weakly but he’s aware, bolstered by Magnus’ magic.

“You’re ‘kay?” His boy asks him, desperately, searchingly. “Wha’d you pay?”

“Nothing but to ask you to trust me, as you always do.”

Alexander nods instantly and asks tiredly, pained, “Jace?”

“It will hurt him, but it will save his life. Lilith will no longer have any control over him.”

Alec smiles up at him, blood burbling from the corner of his mouth as he coughs.

“I trus’ you. L’ve you.” His eyes are fluttering and Magnus kisses him, easing him with magic into unconsciousness.  Magnus summons the stele his father handed him with a smirk and draws a rune over the parabatai rune and then he draws three more.

They are both demonic and divine and with his father’s power still boosting him, Magnus has no problems ripping Alexander and Jace’s bond apart.  Alexander convulses and coughs up more blood and Magnus uses magic to hold him down — even unconscious his body is reacting to losing a piece of what its held for years as its own soul.

Magnus rips Jace from Alexander like one might rip the skin from a carcass or a hook from a wound. It’s dug in and tightly barbed but Magnus is merciless, because he promised Alexander that Jace would live and he will, but as with all things there will be a price.

And this is it.

His father thinks that Alexander will hate him, will loathe him for this but Magnus knows better and he knows that what Alec wants the most is Jace to be still alive and to also live. Alexander will forgive him because his boy is viciously pragmatic and he understands that things have cost better than most.

Magnus works desperately the moment the bond is broken, ignoring the pain he’s causing to call for Catarina and to desperately try and heal his by.

It’s hours before his and Cat’s combined work leave a deep but no longer fatal wound.  And impressive task when you consider that adamas wounds rarely heal.

Alexander wakes slowly, eyes wet and wild as he looks up at Magnus and gasps out his name in shock as his body shakes.

“Jace—” he gets out hoarsly.

“Alive, but no longer your parabatai. Two lives saved for the cost of two soul shards.” Magnus says, making it sound much less intimate than the price truly was.

“Are you upset with me, sayang?” Magnus asks gently as he leans down and presses his ear to Alexander’s beating heart, gently hovering over the skin, not actually pressing down for fear of hurting the tender and raw wound.

“It’s the price that should have been paid from the beginning.” Alexander says and he sounds sad but grim. “Jace was brought back and the bond came back wrong from the beginning. It was broken like it wasn’t supposed to reform.” And Magnus lifts his head and watches as Alexander looks at him, eyes damp, “and what else could you have done, Magnus? This was always Jace and mine’s price to pay. You only ever went to Edom for me and that you came back unharmed is a gift I can’t take lightly.”

Alexander is serious, so sincere as he speaks and Magnus once again sighs with delight at how earnest and loving his boy is.

“My father hoped to break my heart. That by breaking your parabatai bond, I would have betrayed you. That you would hate me.”

Alexander scoffs and shakes his head, pain on his face but adoration still strong in his eyes.

“You saved us, Magnus. Me and Jace. I wouldn’t have made it with that much adamas in my heart without your magic and Jace would still be under Lilith.” Alec coughs and shifts with a grimace before he looks at Magnus sulkily. “I just had a piece of my soul ripped out Magnus, and my heart stabbed. I think I’d rather have cuddles than conversations right now.”

Magnus blinks and stares at his magnificent boy, who is looking at him with a pout and Magnus already knew, but he truly can’t resist Alexander.

“Jace is going to have a bitch of a time healing too.” Alexander mutters, and he sounds smug in only the way a nephilim can once they are out of true danger and are pleased with their skills.

“Oh?”

“He always said my arrow training wouldn’t ever come in handy.” Alexander rasps out with a hoarse, forced chuckle that seems a little sad, “but I got him in every tendon and to drop his weapons. So—” and here Alexander looks grimly pleased, “he was wrong.”

Magnus soothes a hand over his boy’s face and just drinks in his exhausted and pained face. Alexander is alive and that is all that matters and Magnus reminds himself of this as he leans forward and delicately kisses his beloved with a fierce possessiveness despite how gentle he is.

Because Alexander trusts him and Asmodeus was wrong and going to Edom was worth having Alexander’s soul all to himself.

—

Elsewhere at the New York Institute, Izzy sobs as she holds a screaming Jace down. Clary is crying to, unable to help her beyond activating Izzy’s strength runes.

“He’s gone Izzy. He’s gone.” Jace sobs and Izzy wails with him as she clutches the bare patch of skin that he only lets her touch. Clary watches with shaking fingers and wet eyes as they mourn.

[herarcadewasteland]

happy death day IIII

A/N: Purge night.

-SKZ x reader, 18+.

mature content, violence etc. its the purge. skz lowkey yandere. descriptions of violence and injury. mentions of kinks

also thank you @mixtape-racha for helping me with hyunjins scene idea ♥

---------

prev. - next.

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previously on happy death day;

“Let’s see what else I can make you do. It’s my turn now. And you have nowhere to go. Not until Jinnie has his turn with you. Then you’re fucked. Royally fucked. Just you wait.”, he ended with a laugh at your expense, the gesture common from them at this point as he held his hand out to the side for his choice of torture.

Your eyes focused on the item slowly, the lighter and candle being placed in his hand sending you into a frenzy. Your hands tugged against your restraints again, your uninjured leg kicked out as much as it could and your torso twisted uncomfortably. Your mistake. The burn on your stomach had you shouting, back curving and head dropping onto Chan’s toned stomach as you whined at the residual burn. 

“Tsk tsk. I thought I told you to hold still, doll.”, his thumb flicked the lighter wheel, “Let’s see where your disobedience got you~”

-------

The lighter clicked a few times, the flame failing to burst forth again until it did. His smile said it all as he moved the lighter close enough to your sliced chest that the heat of it made you sweat. The heat stung your wound more than the pressure of the blade, your eyes narrowing to hide as much of the pain as you could. Your efforts were fruitless as Seungmin pushed the flame against the incision, your throat constricting with a shrill scream as he ran the heat along the length of it. 

“Maybe this will stop the mess you’re making, hm? Save Binnie some extra clean up like a good slut.”

You whimpered, muscles clenching as you tried to lean away from all the stimulation, the breath on your ear, the heat of the lighter and the harsh, cold gazes of the men sat and crouched before you. Your thoughts no longer existed, the pain overtaking every single sense, eyes going blurry and ears ringing as you shuddered through the burning sensation that was now doubled on your chest. 

“Be a little bit nice now, Minnie, she’s not used to this~”, Minho’s voice grated at your eardrums and soothed you all at once, “Yet. So, go easy. Until she can sit still. Or don’t~”

He was clearly mocking you, your eyes rolling at his playful tone as he watched you, ankle resting on his knee as he sat and watched you suffer through hooded eyelids. His gaze would’ve turned you on any other day, the intensity, the darkness of it and the way he licked his lips as his head tilted slightly. It screamed arousal and seeing the veins on his hand become more pronounced as he lightly scratched at his elevated leg did not help you in the slightest.

Despite the situation, you squirmed in your spot, hoping it would come across as discomfort and not the unfortunate arousal you were now harboring towards Minho as he sat cockily in his chair. Your luck was never that good, his eyes turning darker as he trailed his gaze down your body, taking in the way you squirmed more when he lifted his eyes to look at you through dark eyelashes, his tongue peeking out to run over his bottom lip slowly.

“Oh Minho! She likes that! Her thighs are clenching!”, Jeongin pointed out the obvious from his floor seat, his finger extended to point at your thighs as they indeed clenched at Minho’s actions.

You were laughed at again, the sound making you shrink in on yourself as much as you could with Chan’s arms finding purchase around your bare waist to run his tongue down your neck, following the small path of love bites he had left on that side. Eyes watched you even more diligently, some darker than before and others holding a new curious light.

“Why is she getting turned on though? She’s being tortured. That’s not grounds to be aroused.”, Felix mused aloud, his eyes tracing your body like he could read all your secrets.

“Jinnie. Sungie. Go search her room while Minnie has his fun.”

“On it.”, the two in question stood to head off upstairs, Felix taking up residence in Minho’s lap this time as Seungmin clicked the lighter beside your ear.

Your head flinched to the side, narrowly avoiding Chan’s own as he stood up straight to take Hyunjins spot beside Changbin. The bucket sat menacingly between the two chairs, the smirks on their faces unnerving and distracting until heat flared in your thigh, your leg kicking out as much as it could in response. Seungmin scoffed a laugh at your reaction, the tip of the lighter meeting your skin as he clicked it back on. The pain was too overwhelming at that point, the direct heat of the hot metal and the flame itself causing you to black out. The time you were out was undetermined, the boys taking the time to look over you very closely, rubbing salve on wounds and drying your hair until Hyunjin and Jisung re-entered the room with your diary in hand. 

“What is that?”

“You guys were gone for a while~ Make out while you were up there?”

“Just bring it here.”

Hyunjin brought it over to Chan without question, Minho and Jeongin teasing the two for taking so long in your room. 

“It’s her diary.”, Chan sounded astonished, his eyes scanning your pretty writing filling the pages one after the after, front and back. 

“Ew, who cares? Girls have too many emotions, it’s no wonder she had to write them down so often.”, Seungmin was unapologetic in his opinion as he set the lighter down once his candle was lit.

“No, no. Shut up Minnie. Not that kind of diary.”

“What other kind of diary is there?! Is it a diet log? That’s even worse!”

“It’s her dirty dreams and kink scenarios…”

“What?”

“Let me see!”

“Oh that’s actually hot.”

“Shit, what is she into?!”

“That's… quite dumb.”, Minho was the one voicing his displeasure this time, his eyes rolling in his annoyance despite leaning forward in his chair in curiosity.

“Why would she need such a large book for that? How much does she write in that thing?”

“How many are there?! I have to know how many kinks she has!”

“That seems irrelevant…”

“Shut up, Lixie! You want to know too!” ,Han huffed in return.

Felix huffed as well while they all fell silent, eyes trained on the book in question while Chan flipped through the pages faster.

“60. She’s listed 60 different kinks.”

Whistles filled the room alongside disbelieving, happy claps.  

“That’s insane! Is there even that many kinks that exist?!”

“Apparently, dumbass! Read some out!”

The boys leaned towards Chan as he flipped back to the near middle of your diary of horniness, his eyes scanning to carefully choose which kinks he wanted to expose. His eyes met Binnie’s darkened ones as he read over Chan’s shoulder, his hands gripping the seat of the chair as he focused on one in particular. 

“Wax play…”

Seungmin made a noise of approval, fingers running up and down the length of his candle as he glanced back at your unconscious form.

“Knife play…”

“YES!”, Felix cheered as he spun in a circle, his fists punching the air at the good news.

“Breath play…”

Changbin growled, his eyes straying back to you as a slow smirk crawled across his pretty lips.

“Fear play…”

Hyunjin and Jeongin let out thoughtful hums, glancing at each other with knowing looks.

“Oh, she does have a daddy kink… or more so a sir/master kink…”

Minho smirked smugly, his eyes still focused on your resting body oblivious to all your secrets being revealed.

“She likes being degraded… and praised… but she also likes impact play.”

Minho laughed this time, Felix’s dark laugh following as Minho’s body fell against the back of the chair in wonder at the knowledge he held on you.  Hyunjin and Jisung high fiving while Chan had his own mini celebration as he scanned the page a few times over. 

“Oh, Innie… She has a scenario written of being hunted…”, Chan’s dark eyes met Jeongin’s as he registered the words in his head, “She likes to be hunted.”

A round of applause and laughter followed, Jeongin’s smirk growing as he watched you wriggle lightly in your sleep. The thoughtful silence that followed would have been unnerving to you had you not been passed out, the group sending each other glances as they re-thought their plans for the next 6 hours of purge night. They would purge, oh yeah they would. And you would be participating in your own way as you had been for the first half, most of it unbeknownst to you as you had been watching whatever shitty drama was on for those who needed the distraction. 

“Oh I’ll hunt you, bunny. You’ll never remember living in peace when I’m done with our little hunt.”, Jeongin walked towards you slowly as he spoke in a slight growl, his eyes narrowed as he placed his hands gently on your burnt, glossy thighs, “I’m going to have so much fun playing the big bad wolf… poor little Y/N-ie~ You have no idea how fast your heart will beat when its me after you next. But you will~”

He stood up from his bent position over your prone figure with slight pressure on your thighs, the action making you whimper lowly as he tilted his head at you with a deep hum that sent shivers down your spine even in your sleep.

“Yah, she can’t hear you. Save your monologue for when you’re hunting her.”

Jeongin huffed out a long sigh that made Felix giggle, Changbin patting his back roughly as he also chuckled at Minho’s words. A comfortable silence filled the room, your sleep riddled breaths calming them all as they talked quietly amongst themselves, Hyunjin grabbing the book from Chan to sit on the kitchen counter, flipping through the worn pages for himself. His sharp eyes scanned each word, absorbing what each meant for his turn until he landed on a scenario that made his heart race. Hyunjin’s eyes met Seungmin’s briefly as he looked over to your figure in the chair, the click and fizzle of the lighter adding some background noise as they all became absorbed in you once more. 

“It’s time to wake her up. Who wants the honor?”

Glances were cast around the room in curiosity, most landing on Felix as he was already sauntering towards you in preparation, hands rubbing together like a fly as he bent to place his lips against your ear softly. 

“Wakey wakey~ It’s time to wake up~”, his deep voice echoed in your subconscious causing you stir slightly as he repeats in your ear, soft lips brushing the shell of your ear until his words woke you with a start, your head flinging away from him as your body jerked in the chair.

A light scoff sounded from farther in the room, Hyunjin’s eyes meeting yours for a solid second before Felix was chuckling in your ear and drawing your attention to the significant ache in your thighs. Glancing at your thighs, you let out your biggest gasp of the night, blisters and red spots littering your flesh. Seungmin was smiling proudly at your feet, his lips parting slightly with proud breaths as he watched your reaction. 

“Don’t get too comfortable now, pretty, Binnie wants a little more time with you before we send you off for Jinnie.”

Hums of agreement from Minho and Han confirmed your fate, Hyunjin meeting your eyes with a bored look until smirked at the way your eyes flickered across his face and body at almost inhuman speeds. Your attention was snapped away from his magnetic energy as Changbin stood to head back to the sink with the bucket, the water turning on and sending tingles across your body as you trembled slightly.

Mentally preparing yourself for your next make-shift swim, you closed your eyes tightly and took shaky breaths through your nose to get used to conserving air when you were under. Unfortunately for you, the boys knew your plans, a rough hit jarring you from your nearly meditative state, coughs jolting your wrapped leg painfully as your eyes focused on Chan, his fist still clenched and ready to send your air from your lungs with another hit in mere seconds if you dared to try and outsmart them and prepare yourself for something that they knew you enjoyed deep down. 

A light spritz of water hit you and you looked around in slight anger, who the fuck just sprayed you like a bad cat? The covered laughter of Minho and Jeongin answered your question, the spray bottle in Minho’s large hand sending you into a blind rage, disregarding any further danger it may have put you in. 

“What the fuck?! How dare you? I am not a misbehaving cat! And I am absolutely not a plant in need of watering so pray tell why the fuck you just sprayed me like both of those things!”, you panted for breath, your outburst taking more energy than you thought as you didn’t take a breath through it all.

The dark eyes around the room narrowed and filled with mirth, watching you seethe in your place. All but one. Hyunjin was furious now. His sharp eyes darker than you had seen them that night as he slid from the counter, your diary in hand as his steps rattled your bones as he made his way to you, the boys going silent and deadly serious as they moved out of his way. 

“Do you want to fucking repeat that, darling?”, Hyunjin’s voice was deep, darkness seeping from the edges as he lowered himself to your level, “I don’t think you fucking do, so don’t you dare continue with your petty attitude.”

He stood up from his bent position, his mesh covered abs meeting your eye-sight as you growled back at him. 

“Who are you to tell me what to say? They were calling you Jinnie! You think that’s fucking scary to me? It’s about as scary as ‘Lixie’ and ‘Minnie’ and ‘Binnie’ which is not at all! So clean up your own attitude, Jinnie, before you try to tell me what to do!”

The silence was deafening, no gunshots from outside seemed to exist. No more screams filled your ears from the distance. No water ran in your sink, no lighter clicked on and off in large hands. There was nothing but your breathing and Hyunjin’s dangerous stare as he lowered himself to your level once more, pretty veined hand gripping your jaw tight enough to break it if he wanted. 

“I fucking dare you to say that again. Go on. You had enough nerve seconds ago to mock me like a big girl. Own up to it! I'm waiting.”

The heat and danger in his eyes told you he was testing you, you should stay silent and shake your head. But you were stubborn and a little too dumb to be good enough at keeping your mouth shut when you needed to. 

“You’re such a dickhead! How big is your ego, huh? I think it takes up your whole being, no room for rational thought past your unending god-syndrome and self-praise! How pathetic is that? The fact you need your ego to even like your-”

Slap.

Slap.

Swoosh.

Crack. Stinging.

Slap.

His hand hit your cheek repeatedly, a belt lashing from Felix being added in for a moment as he seethed for Hyunjin. The man in question was staring you down with an even darker look in his eyes, the anger behind it giving you goosebumps as he heaved for breath through his anger.  His hand gripped your jaw tighter, the bone aching as his fingers dug into it harshly, his thumb tugging down your bottom jaw as he leaned down to stare into your eyes from around the height of your forehead.

Twah. Twah. Twah.

You flinched with each hit of his spit against your tongue, your eyes closing as he shut your mouth roughly, teeth clacking together painfully as your eyebrows contorted in disgust. His gaze held firm as his hand shifted to pinch your nose closed, the action forcing you to open your mouth and drool everywhere or swallow and breathe normally again. Your choice was decided quite quickly for you as Hyunjin raised a single eyebrow, his free hand reaching into the waistband of his dark jeans to pull a pistol from within. Your eyes widened but you weren’t that surprised seeing he had one on him, all of them probably did. What caught you off guard was the click of the safety and the press of the gun against your throat.

“I suggest you fucking swallow if you don’t want me to blast out your pretty throat with something other than my cock.”, Hyunjin was growling now, his voice surpassing Felix’s deepest tone as he cocked his eyebrow higher, a small mocking smirk curving his pretty lips, “That would be such a shame wouldn’t it? Yeah, I think it would.”

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taglist: @extremechaoswarning @mixtape-racha @artisticbirb

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next.

[fastlikealambo]

the mermaid & the lighthouse. ||older!eddie x black mermaid! reader

summary: widowed father eddie munson is an experienced fisherman and down on his luck operator of one of the last barely functional lighthouses in america.

hawkins, a crumbling fishing village off the coast of maine, is slowly but surely being sold off and an oil spill by the carver oil company the previous year has all but sealed hawkins' fate to be purged of the locals and turned into a resort.

it's in the cards for eddie to sell his boat, pack up his daughter, and give into jason carver's cash offer to turn the lighthouse into a vacation home.

that all changes when a mysterious woman washes up on the rocks, an unearthly being that will change his fate and the fate of his home forever.

Trigger warnings for this chapter: Drowning, Body Horror, Mental Health Discussions, CPR

CHAPTER ONE.

'But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more.'

-Hans Christian Andersen

This is a tale of mermaids, love, and what it means to be human.

But to begin,we must have an ending.

“Chrissy? Wynie? Christina and Eowyn Munson!" 

Eddie made his way through the crowded emergency room, wading through police officers, people wrapped in blankets with medical staff hovering around them and others with the same wild look in their eyes as Eddie, searching for someone in the crowd. The corridors seemed to be endless as Eddie broke out into a run past the nurses’ station towards the room but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Sir, you can’t go back there.” The security guard said but Eddie shook them off, spotting a lone nurse.

"Please, I'm looking for my wife and daughter, they were on the ferry?"

"I'm sorry sir, we're swamped, someone should be around to talk to you shortly." The nurse said, barely looking up from her chart and it took everything within him to not scream.  It wasn’t her fault, but he just needed to know what was going on. 

"Eddie."

Eddie turned around to see Robin standing there and he immediately ran to his friend, unbelievably happy to see someone, anyone he knew who might possibly have answers, or at the very least prevent him from spinning his wheels.

"Thank fuck, I can't find Chrissy or Wyn anywhere and nobody knows anything, neither of them are picking up their phones, I'm going out of my mind Robin!" He exclaimed, running his hand through his curly hair, the few gray streaks in it shining in the fluorescent lightning. He had dyed them to match the rest of his head in what he thought was secret but Chrissy liked the grays.

 Robin said nothing, took his hands in her own and it was then that he saw the tears in her eyes, the blood on her rainbow scrubs and his heart stopped in his chest.

No.

"Robin?"

"Eddie, Chrissy and Wynie were in the water for a very long time. By the time they were brought in, neither of them were breathing on their own."

No. 

"Spare me the bullshit Robin, where the fuck is my family?" He yelled, no actual anger in his voice, just pure desperation. A buzzing noise that started when Wayne radioed him intensified in pitch and it felt like he was underwater.

"We were able to stabilize Wyn, but we had to put a tube down her throat to help her breathe, she's in the ICU, Eddie."

 The image that his mind conjured of his little girl in a hospital bed made him want to curl up on the floor but he regained his composure to ask the question he didn’t want to know the answer to.

"And Chrissy?"

"We did everything we could, I'm so sorry Eddie."

Eddie felt his knees give out beneath him, meeting the hospital floor hard, his sobs and screams echoing throughout the hallway as Robin rocked her oldest friend in her arms, no longer able to stifle her own tears.

While his daughter fought to take a breath and his wife took her last, Eddie had been fucking fishing, tossing back a few beers, shooting the shit.

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

And then an interlude of two years.

Outside of The Hawkins Middle School principal’s office, Eddie was greeted by the sight of his twelve year old daughter looking very pleased with herself despite the bruise on her face and cut on her lip, the smirk that confirmed to the world that this was Eddie Munson’s kid fading as soon as she saw her father.

“Wyn, what the fuck happened? Who did this to you?” Eddie knelt down by his daughter, taking her chin in hand to inspect her face, rage and frustration building within him but Wynie sighed and shook him off, her face shifting to the same blank expression that had graced her features since he brought her home from the hospital two years prior.

“Mr. Munson, so good of you to join us.” Principal Coleman’s head popped out of the office,  ushering him to come in. A sheepish Eddie followed, sinking into a seat across from the principal, half expecting Wayne to be sitting next to him like he was the one getting detention.

“Mr. Munson, we understand that things have been extremely hard for you both these past two years and we’ve done the best we can to support Eowyn here at school but I’m afraid violence can’t be tolerated.” 

“None of what you’re saying explains why my kid’s face is fucked up, Coleman.”  Eddie said roughly, running a hand through his beard. “But it’s the thought that counts.”

“Mr. Munson, your daughter headbutted another student during lunch, breaking her nose. The student’s mother is threatening to press charges.”

“And did you find out why? Ask any of the other students if-

“Your daughter confessed actually, rather proudly if I might ask but then again, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I’m sorry Mr. Munson, but we’ve been lenient with your situation for far too long.” Eddie stood to his feet at that.

“Situation? Her mother died! She almost died! That’s not something a juice box and a pep talk over the summer fixes!”

“Sit down Mr. Munson, I know you don’t believe it but we are on the same side. That child’s parents are out for blood but I’ve managed to keep them at bay by giving Eowyn two weeks of in school suspension, a written apology, and she will be seeing Ms. Kelley, our guidance counselor and Dr. Owens, our school psychiatrist.”

Eddie slowly sat back down, exhaustion taking away any remaining fight he had. He had a plan to keep them both above water after all that had happened, to keep her safe and try to get through each day.

He was failing spectacularly.

“ Wait, she already sees Dr. Owens, twice a week.” Eddie said, confused looking out at his daughter in the hallway who overheard everything and now hung her head in actual sadness.

“Apparently for the last month, she’s been skipping their sessions.”

Jesus H. Christ.

“So do you want to tell me what really happened?” Eddie said,waiting until Wynie was buckled into the car.

Silence.

“Wyn, we can’t go on like this, if you don’t want to talk to me, you need to talk to Owens. No more skipping sessions, sweetheart. And you have to apologize to that kid.”

“He threw Abby Henderson’s lunch in the trash. He’s been doing it all week, she won’t say anything so I did something about it.”  Wynie said softly. Eddie pulled over and turned towards his daughter who looked more and more like Chrissy with each day that passed.

“I’m supposed to say you shouldn’t have done that, that you should have told a teacher, that violence is never the answer, but honestly fuck that. You did something to help your friend and that’s important, Wyn.”

“So I’m not grounded?” Eowyn asked, the first time he had heard her voice in a few days, startling him.

“Oh you’re so grounded but not for the headbutting which is very metal by the way, but for the lying Eowyn. I’m worried about you honey,  there’s nothing you can’t tell me, you know that right?” Eddie asked, reaching for Wyn who moved away.

“I’ve got to inspect the lighthouse tonight, why don’t you come with me? We can have hot cocoa, it will be like old times.” Eddie offered, coughing awkwardly. 

Wynie shrugged, the guarded look back in place.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Eddie said, a little bit of hope in his voice as he started the car again.

Somewhere close, a storm beckoned and the sea betrayed you.

You had been watching the humans above, their ways had called to you more often than not these days, looking for him on the shoreline but he was no longer there. The human child smelled of him but a long time had passed since the sea was aflame and the scent was gone from the water.

You would wait one more day for him before leaving for colder waters and as the day became night, he was not there.

Eddie was gone.

Sadly, you left the rocks to dive under the stormy water and that’s when it happened.

Your tail, your beautiful luminous tail, began to twist uncontrollably beneath you, bloody scales shedding from you one after the other.

Then, agony.

So much pain, your bones shifting and breaking, you couldn’t breathe.

Poseidon, you couldn’t breathe.

The water that had raised you invaded your throat so you couldn’t scream as you disappeared beneath the waves, body broken, body new.

The Hawkins Lighthouse swayed a little, rain pelting the dilapidated lighthouse and Eddie and Wynie by extension. The lighthouse was nothing more than a sad landmark these days rather than the fully functioning lighthouse that saved many a ship centuries before. Still as a promise to Wayne, Eddie kept the lighthouse somewhat clean and serviced the lantern as much as he could.

“As he finished cleaning the lantern, he turned it on, the brightness got him every time but he couldn’t help but frown as the strength of the light seemed to dull with every minute that came and went. It would kill his uncle but the sooner the lighthouse was officially decommissioned, the better it would be.

Wynie stood on the other side of the tiny lantern room, wrapped in a star wars blanket with a thermos of hot cocoa, staring at the water below.  It was hard to believe that just two years ago she would zoom around the tiny room, naming everything she spied in the water, begging Eddie to quiz her on all the clockworks, fuel parts, and vents in the service room.

Now she wouldn’t even step a foot outside the cottage much less the shore.

“I’m all finished here if you want to head down. Maybe we could watch a movie or something?” Eddie asked but she was already out of the room before the question fully left his mouth.

Was this how it was going to be forever?

He had failed his wife and child that night and he continued to fall on his ass since.

This was all his fault.

“Holy shit, Dad! Dad!” 

The alarm in his kid’s voice sent him sprinting towards the stairs but Wynie burst back through the door, running to the glass.

“Dad, look! There’s something on the rocks!” She exclaimed, grabbing Eddie by the hand and dragging him to the window.

At first, Eddie saw nothing, squinting hard at the window but as the light passed over the area below, it shone brighter than it had in years, revealing something curled and limp on the rocks.

Not something, someone.

There was a body on the rocks.

“ Eowyn, Wyn, slow down!” Eddie called out to his daughter who ran ahead of him down the steep lighthouse stairs and into the rainstorm below. 

He had left his phone in the cottage stupidly and had no choice but to follow his daughter, flashlight in tow. Wynie stopped just short of the water, frozen in place so quickly Eddie almost slammed into her. His hands shook as his flashlight revealed the limp naked body of a woman draped across the sharp rocks.

He should leave, call or radio for help, but something told him there wasn’t time, dead or alive, he couldn’t just leave you there.

“Stay here.” Eddie ordered Wynie, turning her around as he walked into the rocky water, slipping his jacket off as he slowly approached your body, slipping on the stones as he inched forward towards you, hands meeting your scarily chilled skin. 

Trying not to think of the possibility of holding a dead body, he wasted no time, wrapping his jacket around you and gently slid your body off the rocks and into his arms and had Wynie guided him with her flashlight to the nearest soft patch of sandy shore.

Laying you down flat, he put his head to your chest and listened, the more silence he heard the more fear threatened to overwhelm him.

"Daddy?" The terror and pain in his daughter's voice paralyzed Eddie as he looked down at the completely still woman beneath him.

This was no sight for her.

"Wynie, go inside, call Aunt Robin, tell her we found someone hurt on the beach, she'll know what to do. Put the puppy upstairs then turn the heat up and light the fireplace, just like I taught you. I'll be right behind you, I promise. Can you do that for me?" He asked, putting his hands on her damp shoulders.

Eowyn nodded deeply, straightening herself up with a fierce look of determination in her face that made her look so much like Chrissy his heart hurt even more.

"I can do it Dad." 

"Good girl! Now, go!" He kissed the top of her head and gently pushed her away.

She took off running towards the cottage and Eddie steeled himself for what was to come next.

He pressed two fingers into your neck waiting for something, anything, beneath his fingers, but the same stillness continued.  Eddie tilted your chin back, pinching your nose and sealed his mouth to your own breathing deeply, feeling your chest rise to meet his hand.

He repeated the action, breathing for you once again, hoping you sit straight up like in a movie and this whole nightmare would be over but no sooner then he had felt your chest rise with his air did it sink in, just as still.

He gently walked his fingers down to the landmark between your breasts and placed one shaking hand over the other, locked his elbows, straightened his arms, silently praying to anyone as he centered his shoulders over his hands and began to press down hard and fast, counting aloud.

"You got yourself on those fucking rocks, you can do this, come on!" He choked out, ignoring the cold that seeped into his tiring arms threatening to numb his hands but he kept going, the rhythmic sound drowning out his own racing heart, blinking back frustrated tears.  Two minutes felt like an eternity as he checked your pulse again with the same result.

He couldn't do this again.

They couldn't be tied to another death, Wynie couldn’t bear it, Eddie wouldn't survive it.

You were running out of time, he was running out of time before his daughter would no doubt come back outside after doing what she was told and be treated to the sight of another corpse.

It was at that moment that Eddie Munson decided he would not let the sea take another person, even a stranger, from him again.

Sweat and rainwater rolled down his back as he began again, each and every compression a middle finger to Death itself because he would not give up, not until you took a breath or someone ripped him off you.

Two cycles later, Death backed the fuck off.

An ungodly gurgling followed by a wretching sound had Eddie's frozen fingers flying to your neck and he let out something between a laugh and scream at the drum of a pulse beneath his fingertips. He cut his celebration short, turning you on your side as you emptied your stomach of seawater and god knows what else. 

"Let it all out, good girl, you're safe now, you did it." He soothed, alternating between patting your back and rubbing circles.  He caught a glimpse of your half opened eyes, wide and brown before they rolled back into your head and you went limp against him, shivering hard with every breath you took.

The light passed across your face and for a second Eddie swore he saw sharp teeth.

"I need every towel and blanket in the house, where's Robin?" Eddie asked, racing into the warm living room of his seaside cottage, his jacket wrapped around you to give you some privacy and preserve any heat he could give you from the journey from the shore to his home.

"Aunt Nancy answered, Mrs. Sinclair went into labor earlier, she's still on the mainland. She said she'd come herself as soon as there was a break in the storm." Wynie explained, zipping around the cottage collecting a pile of blankets and beach towels.

 Eddie set you down on the already blanket lined couch in front of the fire, quickly peeling off his own wet layers to his semi dry t-shirt underneath before  wrapping a towel around and cocooning you both in blankets, gently rubbing the heat back into you.

"You're gonna be okay, we're gonna get you nice and warm and then we'll get you some help." Eddie whispered into your ear as Eowyn gently placed another comforter over the pair of you, eyes glassy with tears.

"She's not moving, is she gonna die like Mom?" She asked quietly. Eddie held out a hand for his daughter to come forward.

"You see her wrist? Put two fingers right there, it's okay you're not gonna hurt her sweetie." Wynie did as she was instructed, touching your wrist so softly as if it was going to break.

"You feel that? That means she's alive and she's alive because you saw her on those rocks before I did. She's going to be fine once she's not so cold and your Aunt can have a look at her. You're a hero Eowyn Munson, and I'm so proud of you sweetheart." Eddie said,mussing her hair before Wyn smiled the first real smile in a very long time and  ran to the kitchen to make tea. Eddie returned to the task of warming you up, cradling you in his arms. 

"Please don't give up the ghost on my couch after I just gave that awesome speech." 

That’s it for now, I hope this is okay :)

[fumifooms]

Howl’s moving castle dunmeshi AU

I’ve cracked the code I know why I love Marcille x Chilchuck so much. They’re literally just like Howl’s Moving Castle Howl and Sophie. Okok indulge me for a sec I’m about to dump so many pics and ramble for a bit. I want you to see my marchil vision. It’s fabulous extra cringefail hopeless romantic drama queen x grumpy old sad angry caring hardworking person cursed to be here & cursing fate and giving tough love to everything in a miles radius. No one is safe. From either of them. Calcifer or Micheal is Izutsumi. Wait wait no Calcifer is Senshi and Michael is Izutsumi. Senshi as Calcifer works bc Calcifer is just chained to Howl and is there reminding Howl to not die and take care of himself, giving hints about how to break the curse to Sophie, also the fire demon cooks the eggs and bacon checkmate. And then LAIOS IS TURNIP HEAD OH MY GOD THAT WORKS OUT PERFECTLY. Chilchuck & Marcille, screaming terrified of the weird scarecrow chasing after them, meanwhile the weird scarecrow that’s harmless: :(. Wizard Suliman is Falin and the second fire demon is Winged Lion, so bam everything comes full circle.

I’m assuming most people who’ll see this post maybe saw the movie but not the book, and what you need to know is that the movie makes Howl so much dreamier and collected and cool, whereas in the book he’s just a drama queen 24/7 that’s it. He’s a wet cat dressed in expensive sparkly glittery gowns that needs to be yelled at to do anything he needs to do. He complains. He bemoans. Meanwhile Sophie is, honestly pretty like in the movie? Less contrarian and anger issues but will grumble and yells while cleaning nonetheless. Hardworking but will pathetically sit down on a chair in a dark corner to cry about her aching bones and OHH this is ALL because she’s the eldest child and she was doomed for unhappiness and no one can ever love her… So she’ll whack everyone into order and purge her feelings through aggressive cleaning and using weed killer. IS THIS NOT GIVING MARCILLE & CHIL TO YOU?!

There’s this funny widespread take from the fandom:

And it couldn’t be more true in a marchil context either. Like come on. For all of this post just swap the names of Howl for Marcille and Sophie for Chilchuck.

(Last one with the art by Cookiekappa on Tumblr)

Tell me this isn’t so Marcille. Tell me Chil wouldn’t run away from home thinking he’s failed life and is no longer in shape to work and now has to waddle in self-pity, seeking out wizards which he hates and finds shady bc it’s his last option, and then end up a maid & cleans everything out of spite and also worry for the person living there. Tell me Marcille wouldn’t throw a depressed slime tantrum so bad that it causes a partial town evacuation because her wails summon unknown horrors, over her HAIR. Forget slime she’d blow up the house instantly. She would breakdance as refusal to go see the king. Chilchuck would call her a slitherer-outer and she would gasp in offense and they’d have a fight.

Marcille having full on poems laying around and then Chil & Izu seeing them and being like "Ah yes, this must be a spell, it makes no sense and is so extra, just like how silly our resident witch and her magic is". Izutsumi going "Okay peepaw I’ll teach you how to use a magical bucket just take one step forward-" and they immediately fuck it up and they’re left stranded in far unknown lands. Chilchuck complaining that HIS BACK HURTS. And at every turn or something mildly inconveniencing him "NOTHING GOOD EVER HAPPENS TO THE MIDDLE CHILD".

And can we talk about the aging motif, the curse… Marcille never letting herself grow close to someone even though she does all these grand gestures for them at first. Meanwhile her fear of loss stares at her straight in the eye whenever she looks at 90 years old Chilchuck, and her deciding to not run away from their relationship is what ends up healing both of them. She gets over her fear of intimacy and he grows over feeling like a terribly dull unlovable failure. Me sobbing when I remember how Sophie’s curse of being old is a self-inflicted manifestation of herself thinking she’s romantically unlovable and weak…….

This is it for now but rest assured that I want to make art of this, have these memes for now

[astraymetronome]

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Sorry, this took so long to get out! I've gotten busy! My job actually just promoted me and I got my nose pierced.

His lungs were screaming as he ran. Flying was one hell of a risk considering that he didn’t want to rush through the potion in his system. He only had one of each and, even if it was faster, he couldn’t risk it. Tommy needed to get somewhere, anywhere, he could hide and act like he didn’t have a living thing in his stomach. Nausea was swelling up his throat as he ran but Tommy was well aware he wouldn’t actually purge his stomach or anything similar. 

The teen could feel the snow under his feet, he could feel the cold sapping through his entire body as he rushed from the city towards a cabin set deep in the snowy tundra. Making a journey completely unprepared was dumb regardless of everything, but doing it into a snow-covered land was even more ignorant but that wasn’t what Tommy cared for.

All he needed to do was run until his head was clear and he reached his destination! Techno was far enough away to be hard to locate which was a good thing, but the worst thing was that he was rough to reach in a bad situation. 

Tommy panted as he gave a very sheepish whine, his nausea was getting worse from the combination of stimuli. His feet hurt, his stomach hurt, his lungs hurt, Fuck. Everything hurts! He figured it wasn’t a good sign, considering his ungodly pain tolerance. He just needed to get to that shack in the middle of the forest. 

The middle of this fucking huge snow-ridden forest!

He got so caught up in his head, the thoughts of his discomfort and the uneasy pit in his torso, Tommy didn’t know how to feel when, out of nowhere, a heavyweight collided with his back. A squawk left his throat as he tumbled forward, wings flaring in response. He fell into the snow as the thing on his back buried its teeth into the fluff of his cape.

The creature behind him was warm and heavy, a growl building from its throat. He felt fear wash through him for a moment before the weight shifted enough he was able to unclasp the lock around his neck and roll away from the cape. He mourned the loss of its warmth but he was quick to pull a sword from his inventory, ready and completely prepared to shed blood to protect himself. 

Tommy’s eyes landed on a medium animal, it was mostly gray and white with a small amount of tan dressing its mussel. The animal’s eyes were narrowed, a red glint resinating in the black of its pupils as his eyes drifted down. A nice deep blue collar sat around its neck as the dog growled once more. 

“Liz?” He found himself whispering. The canine’s ears perked up at the word as it left his lips, her eyes shifting from a glare to a gaze of recognition as her tail began to wag away and a small bark left her mussel. She bounded forward, acting like a puppy that hadn’t seen their mother in years. 

Despite the cold digging into his body and his knees, Tommy didn’t hesitate to chirp as he opened his arms and eagerly embraced the dog. He smiled as Liz seemed to relish in his contact, barking loudly as she was pet and he scratched behind her ears. Her warmth was welcomed with how freezing his limbs felt from the surroundings. 

A pressure hit the side of his stomach, clearly some kind of swing or hit from the man inside Tommy held in a groan as he continued to embrace the animal. It didn’t take a genius to guess what the reason behind the attack was. Dream probably was still angry and confused about the situation going on outside, plus he also had a reason to show his discontent with the teen. A sharp whistle interrupted his situation as Liz’s ears shot up. She jumped off of him, quickly turning to face the source of the sound. Tommy recognized the pitch and knew who had made the high call. 

His eyes drifted upwards, a familiar mask slipping into view as he noticed the hulking figure stepping closer. Red eyes slid through the holes in the skull, showing the person behind it. A nice watermelon pink draped over his brother’s shoulders, the braid of hair resting over his right shoulder. Techno was still wearing his signature white dress shirt and black slacks. The jabot around his neck was still ruffled and ironed in the way it always was with the green emerald pendent still just above his clavicle. His red cloak, just like the one normally draped across his own shoulders, still holding the bloody shade of crimson and the white fluff of his collar hugging his neck and meshing well with the golden clasp. His tail swished out to the side, peaking out from under the draping fabric as it slipped through the snow.

“Tommy.”

The piglin’s voice seemed surprised and confused but, ultimately, it was guarded. The blonde wasn’t going to judge him. His brother deserved to feel skceptical and unsure about his presence considering their past relationship and how the avian had treated his older brother. He had betrayed his flock, Techno’s sounder had betrayed him and that was considered unforgivable for a brute. He didn’t deserve any forgiveness or anything of that related sort but he still cared for his brother and the hybrid deserved to be aware of what he was doing. 

“Hey… It’s... It’s nice to see you Technoblade.” He told his older brother, the look of hesitance steeling as the brute lifted his crossbow. Tommy lifted his hands, trying to show he meant no harm. Liz glanced back and forth between the two of them, the confusion visible in her little face. She seemed drawn to the tension between the two of them, tempted to join her human and grow defensive but also desiring to go love and cuddle with the boy she hadn’t seen in about a year. 

“Why are you here, Theseus.” The tone in his voice as it passed by his brother’s tusks left no room for argument or even an attempt to lie through his teeth. Tommy simply sighed as he looked up, he got up, picked up his sword, and put it in his inventory, before holding his hands up with a small anxious smile. 

“I know as of right now, it looks like I just need help. I do, but that's not the main reason I’m here.” He told him as he looked up at his older brother. Tommy could feel his nerves flooding his body and causing a slight tremble in his lip as he fought the instinctual desire to cling to his flock and beg forgiveness. He was bound to eventually but, he couldn’t give in until he was completely sure that everything was understood. Techno had a look in his eyes, one that said he was curious and unsure of what he wanted or even needed to know. 

The small tilt of his brother’s head was enough to tell him to keep going, so he listened. 

“Dream.. It involves Dream. Since you already paid back what you owed to him, and I promise I’m not here to cause trouble! I figured you were the only person I could go to about this…” He explained kind of periodically. He also brought his hands close, despite the desire to talk with his hands he made sure to keep them in sight and where they wouldn’t be seen as a threat or anywhere near that. 

“And what makes you think I’d help you with anything involving that homeless prick.” The brute specified as he looked at his little brother. The older hybrid looked angered as he went ahead and moved forward to do something, what that was Tommy had no idea but he wasn’t gonna just take it.

He could feel his nerves spiking as he gave an anxious noise before speaking once more. “I trapped him!” He said quickly. 

Techno seemed to pause at his admission. The piglin paused as he blinked a little, clearly confused and it showed. “Heh?” The man exclaimed as he looked down towards the dog near his side. Liz simply looked back at him, being the same as she ever was, just a confused little dog who seemed happy to be around two of her favorite people. His older brother gave a sigh before he simply lifted up his crossbow and reached a hand out. 

“We can talk about this at my cabin. You’ve got no shoes on, Theseus.” Tommy found himself blinking at that, he felt confused but he looked down and, just like Techno said, he’d forgotten his shoes in his rush to get someone else. The hybrid let out a chirp, his gaze drifting back up as he watched his older brother.

promise.

The brute chuffed in response and the avian’s instincts took that as confirmation that they would be talking this out. Techno didn’t hesitate to pick up the cape in the snow, holding it out towards the blonde without a second thought. 

Tommy took it after just a second as he made sure to adjust how he stood and tried to keep his feet close to eachother. Liz didn’t hesitate to move forwards and wind her way between his legs and forcing them to have a more reasonable distance. 

He began to fall in step behind the brute, watching his brother’s back as the cape over his shoulder’s moved in motion with his body and his tail. If the avian was honest, he wanted to just cling to his older brother due to how badly his instincts screamed. Tommy straight up had someone he wanted to hide from inside of his fucking body. His mind was pissed at him for being so chill about having his abuser inside of his stomach, his instincts were also torn, still feeding off the imprint he’d formed throughout exile. 

No one knew about it. 

Not Techno. Not Dream. Not even Phil. 

<em>Not a single person was going to know.</em>

He brought his hands to his chest, fighting with his flock desire to hold onto Techno. 

They’d been walking for about five minutes before the piglin gave a sigh, sounding exasperated as they both came to a stop. “Come here, kid.” Techno said without much room for argument. Tommy felt confused, looking at his older brother as he stepped closer. 

The moment Tommy was within arm’s length, his older brother pushed his crossbow into his inventory before his arms moved and…

Scooped him up.

A startled chirp left the avian as he was picked up. He was not used to being treated like a small child, considering he hadn’t really been around his older brother. Tommy was very used to being treated as younger than he was, it was the reason he held such a defensive response when being called a child or something similar. Despite how much he wanted to yell and hit as he was picked up, he didn’t have the energy. 

“Put me down, Techno..” He whispered as he was held. Liz looked up at him, tail wagged faster as she perked up. it almost seemed as if the canine thought they were playing around. His brother simply shook his head as he spoke.

“You’re walking barefoot in the snow. I should have done this sooner. Calm down, Theseus.”

Tommy couldn’t argue with that. 

____

Dream could feel everything around him shift. The walls against his back and knees were warm, in an uncomfortable way, and slick. It stuck to him every time he had to move his body. The hybrid couldn’t believe where he was sitting right now, a part of him was preening at the probabilities and possibilities this could open up for kinds of torture and manipulation. The other half was screaming at how unnatural this was!

He held back the desire to scream and yell until he got Tommy to submit. He wanted out of the teenager! He didn’t want to be stuck in some stupid bird’s stomach or even close to this environment. The sound of his own heart pounding in his ears was drowned out by the teen’s heart among the sounds of his stomach and the wooshing of his every breath. 

His surroundings were moving without breath, clearly Tommy was being active with the amount of acids that pooled around his hips. “When I get out of here, I’m gonna fucking kill you!” He barked out, his ears twitching as acid dripped down from the fundus above him. Dream moved his hands to the sides, pushing them into the rugae in order to ground himself. 

He shifted his weight, moving onto his lower back as he braced himself with one leg. The sheep hybrid was panting as he reared back a leg, quick to try and kick the wall in front of him. It didn’t come to fruition as he was thrown around, hearing a grunt come from above. A smirk spread across Dream’s face, a sick satisfaction growing in his gut at the teen’s pain. 

“Suck it.” He muttered to himself.

____

Tommy could still feel Dream kicking and pushing around inside his abdomen. It was causing more nausea to grow, more than he’d like to admit, but the good thing was that he was at least close to having this all taken care of. He knew the pots were still working in his system, able to feel it under his skin, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be lasting much longer. 

The arms that were wrapped around his body were nice. Techno hadn’t held Tommy on his back, which should have been expected, instead literally holding him in a bridal carry. It wasn’t uncomfortable.

Not in the slightest.

The brute was warm in comparison to the freezing cold of the snowing biome around them. Piglin’s were naturally warmer than humans because they lived in the nether, so it made sense for hybrids to have a higher temperature as well. Tommy wasn’t going to complain regardless.

Once they got to the cabin, he felt tired. So much had been going on today, a mix of mental and physical stress that really caused him to feel this exhausted. He had a feeling he’d be sent home tomorrow. No matter how mad his older brother got, Techno was not the monster everyone assumed he was. The hybrid wouldn’t force him out into the snow without shoes or proper clothes. 

“Technoblade?” Tommy mumbled, looking up at his brother. Liv had rushed to the porch, eagerly waiting outside the door as her tail thumped loudly against the wood boards below her. His brother hummed, the sound rumbling in his chest as he showed his attention. 

“Why?” He asked as his brother set him down. He watched as the boar pushed his hand into his pocket, pulling out a key with a swift motion. 

“Let’s talk inside.” He said simply. Tommy found his eyes drifting up towards the mask. He locked his gaze with the man as he gave a small sigh. He probably should get inside before the hybrid changed his mind. 

As the door closed and the lights were switched on, Liz barked as she ran towards where the other dogs were curled up. A handful of the ones Techno had left were all over the living room. He couldn’t help but smile as he took a step towards them before a hand was placed on his shoulder, leading him towards the kitchen instead. 

His nerves were screaming as he stepped towards the area. His stomach shifted with his nerves, the organ squeezing around the small form that sat inside. He couldn’t help but hug his abdomen, feeling self-conscious of the lump that sat under his shirt. It was pretty impalpable, the smallest of bumps settled just under his rib cage where his stomach sat. He gave a wince, feeling bloated despite the fact he was well aware he wasn’t. 

Tommy stepped towards the counter, instinctively plopping himself onto the cold tile. It had been a pretty common occurrence back when the avian had been living with his older brother. Their dad had explained it as a desire to be in high places, something all bird hybrids were wired to enjoy. The teen found it strange, it wasn’t like sitting here made much of a difference for height but he liked it. Though… this did get him thinking.

“Where’s Phil?” He asked, keeping his arms around his belly in order to feel a sense of privacy. He couldn’t help feeling exposed since he was well aware Techno was far more perspective than others on the server. 

The brute seemed to sigh at the question, it was almost as if Tommy wasn’t the first to ask it. Techno simply walked towards the oven, placing a pot on the burner and turning it on. The blonde watched his older brother get out some cocoa, milk, and sugar before beginning to combine them in the pot. “Dad is on vacation. He’s had enough of the cold.” 

That… actually made sense. The only reason his brother enjoyed the Arctic was because it helped him regulate his hibernation and keep a proper internal clock. It was weird to think such a cold environment would help a nether hybrid live an easier life. Either way, Tommy was glad Techno had a way to live comfortably. His brother deserved it after… everything. 

“Either way, we’re not going to ignore what you said in the forest.” The older man said simply as he began to stir the concoction he’d started to make. Tommy knew it wasn’t going to be avoided but he didn’t know how to word it. It would be pretty weird to just blurt what he did out loud but, he didn’t see any other options. It was gonna have to be told sooner or later. 

“I don’t know how to say it Tech, it’s… weird.” Tommy found himself mumbling as he looked towards his feet, kicking them slightly. He didn’t know how to continue, but Tehno’s next action surprised him. A hand settled on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze before a mug was pushed into his hands, warming the frostbitten fingers. The avian took notice of the blood pooling around his nail beds, which explained why his hands were hurting. Tommy knew he had a bad habit of ripping them from his fingers, it used to be nail-biting in Logshire and it had developed into something worse.

“That’s okay, I’ll listen regardless.” The piglin said as he took Tommy’s free hand and began to look over his fingers. The blonde was well aware his brother wasn’t happy with what he saw, but he also knew Techno would’t judge him for the bad habit. 

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he let his eyes shift from the mug to the red ones in front of him. He was unsure how his brother would answer but… he no longer had any excuses to avoid the topic.

“I ate Dream.”

[kararisa]

forged by fire

— from the ashes, i have been reborn

— scaramouche/the wanderer x gn!reader

— cw: blood, you call him Kuni

— author's notes: happy birthday scara my beloved <3 i've been thinking about his trailer a lot so this was inspired by that as well as Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier. enjoy!

Scaramouche has spent his life wandering, searching, yearning. In all his five hundred years of roaming this accursed earth, his candle has burned dim – seeking something, anything, to fuel his spark.

So he wanders, looking for something just beyond his reach.

A heart. A purpose.

Stillness was what he felt when he first opened his eyes, and like a spark without fuel, he sought to find anything to sustain himself. A golden feather adorns his neck – a symbol of the protection granted to him by the Almighty Shogun, a stark reminder of how he was so easily discarded.

A man finds him soon enough; Katsuragi was his name, and shortly afterward he was introduced to Niwa. Scaramouche settles down, and for the first time, he smiles. The candle in him burns brighter until it becomes a fire – a small, delicate flame, but a fire nonetheless

One can only wonder how a mere flickering fire would fare against a storm.

Corruption ravages Tatarasuna mere days later. Scaramouche had returned from Tenshukaku alone, his pleas for help left unanswered.

He was handed a device, a simple box, and tasked to purge the core of Tatarasuna. So Scaramouche takes the box and ventures into the heart of the tempest.

He stared into the corruption that raged at the heart of Tatarasuna and smiled. He had people to save, he could finally be of use!

But what use is a puppet if all that he cherishes has perished?

In all his five hundred years of roaming this wretched earth, nothing could prepare him for the withered heart in the box that shielded him from the corruption. It was the very fuel he needed, but not the fuel he wanted. A lie, a trick, he wanted to scream.

Laughter echoes in his ears as he drops the beating heart in horror. Blood coats his hands, the scent of iron filling the air as it drips onto the sand.

As he runs away, he swears he can still hear its heartbeat.

In all his five hundred years of roaming this cruel earth, fire has followed him. Consumed him. Ravaged him.

Scaramouche didn’t need air, but he felt like he was choking on smoke. Like a weight on his chest held him in place as he watched the house go up in flames. When does a candle become a blaze? How much can a fire withstand before it becomes an inferno?

What line does a puppet have to cross before he's called a monster?

With the story of the toy soldier fresh on his mind, he picked up the boy’s doll, the heat embracing him as he sat amongst the flames to let them eat at his flesh. Was a real heart what the people found in the toy soldier’s wake, or was it simply ashes in the shape of a heart? Heat spreads through his god-made joints and he’s never felt so at peace staring death in the face, scathing his skin and setting his world aglow with orange hues.

“What a joke,” he laid his head against the wall behind him. He lets his inferno consume him, hoping that whoever investigates the smoldering remains will find a heart, his heart, among the ashes.

Even if it were ashes in the shape of a heart.

“It’s just ashes. Nothing left but ashes,” he closes his eyes and waits for the flames to reach him.

Until he hears a familiar voice, your voice.

"Kuni…?"

His eyes jolted open.

As his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room, he sees the look of concern on your face. Ah, he was shaking.

You take his hand and slowly intertwine your fingers, “I got you, Kuni. I got you.”

Scaramouche scoots closer to you and places his head on your chest. He squeezes your hand as a shaky sigh escapes him. Your heartbeat, a steady beat amidst his chaotic thoughts, helps ground him.

“Do you want me to hold you closer?” you ask.

He nods, not trusting his voice. The two of you scoot closer and you start to run your fingers through his hair.

"I love you. I love you so much," Scaramouche’s voice is unsteady as he looks up at you, "You know that, right?"

"Yes," you place your hand on his cheek and he leans into your warmth, "I love you too."

In all his five hundred years of roaming this earth, all he had was his fire. The fire that once consumed him and burned away his sinful flesh now sustains him. You tore down his walls and threw them into the fire, leaving behind nothing but ashes in his wake.

His vision – his heart – glows on the bedside table, a golden feather adorning it. You, in his arms.

Scaramouche has passed through fire, and amidst the ashes, he has finally found a purpose. He’s found you. His world, his everything.

And that’s more than enough for him.

[feyre-darling92]

Can’t lose you

A/N: Hello, everyone! Hope you’re alright. I just finished playing Jedi:Fallen Order and I am very slightly obsessed with it, so here’s a Cal Kestis x reader one-shot.

T/W: Bad writing, angst, injuries, blood, some swear words, let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 694

Synopsis: After a close call you realize that you can’t lose him

“Cal. Cal!” you screamed as you blocked incoming shots from hitting you.

Cal was hit and had fallen to the ground without answering your calls, making your heart stop.

“Cal!” you ran to him and shook his shoulder in a pathetic try to wake him up, “Open your eyes, Cal” you brought your hand to his cheek, “Please”

You again received no response and the sharp pain on your shoulder from a blaster shot reminded you that there were still stormtroopers around you.

Standing protectively in front of him you ignited your lightsaber and started deflecting shots and killing them one by one.

However, you missed some shots resulting in wounds and grazes and an unexpected hit on the head from a purge trooper.

Having fallen to the ground was anything but pleasant but you managed to make your way to him by crawling and dragging yourself.

“BD” you called for the droid which immediately appeared on sight, “Is he ok?”

“Boop-beep bep”

“That’s good I guess” you sighed in relief and glanced at him, “How many healing stems do you have?”

“Boop beep-boop”

“Give me both” you extended your arm and the droid beeped in concern, “I’ll be fine, BD. Cal needs them more”

Unconvinced from your words he gave you the stems and you injected them into Cal.

His name left your lips as softly as a prayer and this time it got answered because he slowly opened his eyes, his confused stare meeting your worried one.

“What happened?” he looked around.

“You’re hurt. Do you think you can walk till Mantis?” you helped him stand up and he supported his weight on you.

“I will try” he murmured but before you could make a proper step forward he fell again half-conscious.

“Please, Cal, help me get you there” you begged him and he did his best to stand up again.

Your own wounds made the whole thing harder but at this point, you didn’t care. Because you couldn’t lose him.

When you finally made it to the ship a blaster shot passed right on top of your head.

“Fuck” you whispered to yourself, “Greez! Cere!”

The ramp opened and you both ran inside, imperial troopers trying to hit you, unsuccessfully.

“What happened?” Cere and Merrin ran to help you, taking Cal off you.

His absence made you lose your balance and you fell to the ground, trying to catch your breath.

“Cal-” you tried to speak, “Please, help him”

Merrin took him inside and Cere kneeled in front of you. Before you could realize it you had become a sobbing mess, hands around your knees and head hanging low.

“Hey, Y/N. Breathe” Cere put a comforting hand on your shoulder, “You’re alright now”

“No, no, I almost lost him and it was all my fault”

“You saved him” you looked at her, “Now, let me help you up”

With her help, you stood up but midway to the couch you felt lightheaded and your legs gave up.

“Merrin!” you heard her yell but it was too late. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You slowly opened your eyes, eyelids feeling heavy.

The first thing you noticed was that you were on your small bed, the pain however struck you with the smallest movement you did.

“Take it easy” a familiar voice sounded from your side and you turned to face him.

“Cal” you breathed relieved that you saw him alive and in one piece and tried to sit up. He rushed to help you and once you were comfortable enough he sat on your bed.

“How are you?” you asked.

“I am fine. Thanks to you. And Merrin” he took your hand in his “Thank you”

“I couldn’t lose you” you replied shyly, not daring to look at him.

“I can’t either, but I almost did. Don’t do anything reckless again”

“I won’t, I promise”

He gently lifted your chin so he could look into your eyes and gently kissed you.

You were surprised but you then brought your hand to the back of his neck and deepened the kiss.

“Better?” he smirked when you pulled away, breathless.

“Of course” you kissed him again.

[artofhazbinhotel]

Guitarspear playlist because the last ship playlist was well received

The Last of The Real Ones (Fallout Boy)

You are the sun

And I am just the planets spinning around you

You were too good to be true, gold plated

But what's inside you? But what's inside you?

I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you

But not as much as I do, as much as I do

Church (Fallout Boy)

If you were church I'd get on my knees

Confess my love, I'd know where to be

My sanctuary, you're holy to me

If you were church I'd get on my kness

I'd get on my knees, I'd get on my knees

Heaven's Gate (Fallout Boy)

One look from you and I'm on that faded love

Out of my body and flying above

If there were anymore left of me I'd give it to you

And I'll tell you that I am fine

But I'm a missile that's guided to you

Go out in the world to start over again and again

As many times as you can

And in the end if I don't make it on the list

Would you sneak me a wristband?

Would you give me a boost over heaven's gates?

Heaven Sent (Hinder)

Never saw the chemistry

That was there with you and me

It's been a long time coming

Just waiting on an angel to take me out of my hell

I'm falling for you, you came out of nowhere

Straight out the blue when heaven sent you

Take Me to Church (Hozier)

Take me to church,

I worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

Offer me that deathless death

Good God, let me give you my life

If I'm a pagan of the good times

My lover's the sunlight

Keep the God on my side, he demands a sacrifice

Drain the whole sea, get something shiny

Francesca (Hozier)

My life was a storm, how could I fear any hurricane?

If someone asked me at the end,

I'd tell them put me back in, I would do it again

If I could hold you for a minute

I'd go through it again

I would still be surprised I could find you

I could find you in any life

If I could hold you for a minute

They're Only Human (Death Note)

They're only human, they don't see

Who they are is who they'll always be

Only human after all

So they push and they shove

With this thing they call love til they fall

Isn't it a farce? Isn't it a waste?

Struggling to face what can never be faced

Fan Behavior (Isaac Dunbar)

I guess I got myself a fan

It's fan behavior, you're a fan

As a result of my cold demeanor

You're pressed, a little bit obsessed

I take you for a fan, you take me as I am

I wonder what's going through your head

I know that you're a mess but secretly impressed

No Forgiveness (Shinki, Red Rob)

Sinners seeking validation,

You're the one who fell to temptation

Now we're caught up in altercations

Purge them all there's no salvation

Fall from grace, been led astray

Lost little lamb, you'll die today

When you fall the price you pay

Is no forgiveness when you pray

You wanna change your team and climb?

I'd much rather hear your screams and cries

Dreaming of seeing those pearly gates

Well, your nightmare arrives today

I'm the man that started it all

The only one who'll heed the call

To stir up sinners in the pot

Don't you know you had your shot?

You wanna get up to heaven?

This is no seven eleven

Think you can change well baby that's sad

Be Somebody (Thousand Foot Krutch)

I'm just a speck inside your head

I remember where it all began so clearly

I feel a million miles away,

Still you connect me in your way

And you created me

Something I would've never seen

When I could only see the floor

You made my window a door

So when they say they don't believe

I hope that they see you and me

After all the lights go down

I'm just the words, you are the sound

A strange type of chemistry

You've become a part of me

Without You (My Darkest Days)

If I had my way, I'd spend every day

Right by your side

And if I could stop time believe me I'd try

For you and I

And each moment you're gone

Is a moment too long in my life

So stay right here by my side right now

Because without you I'm a disaster

Thought you should know

And you're my ever after

Angel (Theory of a Deadman)

I'm in love with an angel, heaven forbid

Make me a believer with the touch of his skin

I'd go to hell and back

With you still lost in what we found

Worlds apart we were the same

Until we hit the ground

Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm weak

Maybe I'm blinded by what I see

You wanted a soldier, it wasn't me

Angel With a Shotgun (The Cab)

Get out your guns, battles begun

Are you a saint or a sinner?

If love's a fight then I shall die

With my heart on a trigger

They say before you start a war

You better know what you're fighting for

Well baby you are all that I adore

If love is what you need, a soldier I will be

Worship you (Kane Brown)

Don't get me wrong, I'm a god fearing christian man

But if you were a religion then damn

I don't know what I'd do

Yeah, I might have to worship you

I might have to sing your praise

I might have to go to church yeah

Every single night and day

Love religious metaphors songs