#anyway i have a presentation in six hours rip me

[monstersandmaw]

Male ‘yautja inspired’ alien x gender neutral reader - Part Eight (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

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Content: violence, threat, some minor injury to the reader, blood. Wordcount: 4311

Your comments on the last one - tags and reblogs especially - made me cackle with pure delight. Thank you. As an early birthday present from me to you, here’s the next part. I hope you enjoy it! It’s been a while since I’ve written ‘action’ like this, so I hope it works! Can’t wait for you to let me know, as always.

Catch up here:

Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (nsfw), Part Seven (nsfw)

Don’t scream.

Don’t fucking scream.

Do not be that person. Do not. Fucking. Scream.

With cold sweat prickling down your spine and your heartbeat thudding in your throat, you inched your hand over for the tranquiliser pistol that you had set near your pillow only a few hours earlier, just in case. Thank god it was a specially-engineered military issue one, not the unwieldy kind of rifle that vets use on safari from the safety of the back of a jeep.

God, since when did sleeping bags make so much fucking noise?

Was it still out there? You couldn't hear it any more, but it was hard to hear anything behind the pounding of blood in your ears.

The machete lay in its sheath beside the gun, and you picked that up too. Glinting steel slid easily over leather, and then you froze again. The hilt felt clumsy and awkward in your hand. Your fingers refused to hold the grip of the tranquiliser gun properly out of sheer terror. Nothing was working right; you couldn’t see; you couldn’t think. Your finger refused to close on the trigger.

Fuck. The safety was still on anyway.

“Shitshitshit…” you hissed.

In a vain attempt to get your thoughts out of tail-spin, you sucked in a deep, sudden breath and held your lungs at their fullest capacity for a good three seconds before silently exhaling to a long count.

A single, muffled footfall outside sent pine cones skittering against the thin, insubstantial canvas of the tent, and the growling began again in a low, teasing taunt.

It was playing with you.

You genuinely thought you might piss yourself with terror as you just crouched there in the dark, shaking and clinging to your ineffectual weapons.

The footage that Red had showed you of its black, articulated tail going right up through the tough, thick hide of his companion flashed once again across your mind, and you kept on replaying the way the tail had actually lifted their eight-foot tall body right up off the jungle floor like an offering on a spike, with the curved, obsidian talon at the tip of the tail buried deep in their flesh like a harpoon.

Shit.

Croc had been tough enough to survive having his entire left arm ripped off during the crash, but another warrior of his calibre had died to this enemy from the cold reaches of space in the blink of an eye. What chance did a soft, untrained human like you stand?

They cannot be destroyed by radiation. They cannot be poisoned or trapped. They can only be killed by the most skilled of warriors with the truest of aim and the deadliest weapons. The metals and alloys you currently use are insufficient to cause fatal damage to them. The voice of the High Elder rattled through the empty corridors of your brain and you barely stifled a yelp of terror as you stared at the gun and knife in your shaking hands. It wasn’t even a proper gun. There was no doubt about it; you were alone, and you were going to die.

Something pressed down on the canvas of the tent above you and you shrank away against the back wall with a strangled scream. Three black, glittering claws punctured the material and dragged long, slow slices across the fabric with a horrible rending sound. As the rips in the tent widened, out in the deeper darkness beyond, something glinted.

Teeth.

A drop of foaming, acidic drool melted through the polymer canvas and dripped onto the mat between your legs. It etched a small, frothing divot into the surface before the reaction burned itself out, and you tilted your face up to find a maw full of cylindrical teeth bearing down on you like a shark about to attack. Moonlight glanced off the shiny carapace of its elongated head, and a low, delighted growl filled the air as it regarded its trapped prey.

Without even thinking about it, you raised the tranquiliser gun and unloaded two darts directly into the creature’s open mouth. The darts sank deep into its soft palate and it staggered back with a screech that tore at your eardrums. It flailed wildly and crashed into the underbrush nearby, and you seized the opportunity to get out of your tent, lashing out blindly with the machete and tearing the rest of the fabric open before lurching off into the clearing. Out in the open, you felt like a mouse driven from a hole by a snake.

The creature writhed in a patch of brambles for just a moment before it found its feet and rounded on you.

Six feet tall, lanky, bipedal, and composed of a glossy black carapace, flashing teeth, and a tail measuring half as long again as its body, the thing darted at you through the darkness faster than your eyes could follow. It seemed to disappear completely into the shadows only to reappear on your left with another shriek of rage and an open, attacking maw.

You fired the gun but it missed wildly. You only had six shots and you’d used half of them already. Each dart apparently had enough in it to tranquilise one of Big Red’s kind in five seconds flat, but it didn’t seem to have had any effect on their enemy beyond a moment of fleeting annoyance and discomfort.

In another flash of moonlight on shiny, black chitin, it was onto you. It barrelled you backwards into the wreckage of your tent and you landed hard enough that all the air was knocked from your lungs in a stunning blow that left you wheezing. In a tangle of tent poles and canvas, its claws began tearing into your clothes as well before it spun away to extricate itself from the collapsed and splintered tent and start its attack anew.

As it left, it lashed at your face with its scythe-like tail. Searing pain shot across your cheek and you instinctively brought your palm to your face. It came away slick and hot and your skin burned in the aftermath.

With a cry you never would have thought yourself capable of making, you screamed a defiant challenge at the creature, like some kind of berserker before a last stand. You raised the gun and held the machete level in your other hand. If you were going to die, you were not going to go down without a fight.

The creature seemed slightly amused by your reaction.

As it bounded off the nearest tree trunks like a playful cat hunting a small bird, you squeezed the trigger again and caught it between the plates of its armoured throat with your fourth shot.

You just barely flung yourself to the ground in time as it lunged at you, half hoping to slash at its underbelly with the machete as you did, but the blade just glanced off it like a child playing make-believe knights with sticks and dustbin lids.

The edge did sink deep into its flailing tail as it sailed past though, and the creature hissed and screeched. The momentum of its leap ripped the weapon right out of your hand, but the machete stayed lodged in the tail and the creature roared and landed hard in a spray of dry pine needles on the other side of the clearing.

“Oh good, now I’ve just pissed you off,” you muttered as you staggered to your feet again. Now you had fifty percent less weaponry at your disposal, and, thanks to your efforts, the creature had acquired a new and deadly spike in its tail. Wonderful.

Two shots left.

It flipped itself upright again onto its hind legs just as a cloud scudded across the face of the moon, plunging the forest into darkness. The creature took full advantage of your sudden and complete blindness, and launched itself at you.

With another scream you raised your hands as it collided with you again, knocking you to the ground. You crossed your forearms in front of your face just in time to catch it under its lower jaw and deflect the attack. A heartbeat later and it might have closed its mouth around your throat. You shoved at its neck as hard as you could while snapping teeth filled your face and its claws raked into the dirt on either side of your head.

It was still toying with you; cat and mouse, dragging it out for its own entertainment. If it had wanted you dead, it would have simply ripped you to ribbons the moment you left the tent.

Somehow though, you got the gun up with one hand and fired twice more into its horrible mouth in quick succession before the futile ‘click click click’ of an empty magazine made your heart stop beating. That was it. You were out of options and the thing was showing no sign of slowing down.

Desperately you struggled to keep its bear-trap maw out of your face, but you knew you couldn't keep it up forever. Your fingers were slipping, losing purchase on the shiny, chitinous body and the useless gun dropped to the forest floor beside your head. Acid burned at your fingers and slick palms. Spittle sprayed from its array of teeth, hitting the ground around your face and fizzling as its acid drool hit the pine needles. Desperately you tilted your head to the side, closing your eyes instinctively as flecks of it landed in your hair and on your forehead. Adrenaline kept the pain away for the time being, but you supposed a few freckles of acid burn weren’t going to matter much when it was chewing you to pieces in a few minutes’ time anyway.

With one last, long, desperate scream of defiance, you shoved everything you had into one final push against its throat. In response, its injured tail lanced down out of the night and embedded itself in the forest floor beside your ear, just nicking the skin, though you barely felt it.

Oddly enough, the creature seemed enraged to have missed your head with its tail — perhaps the machete had damaged some nerves after all — and it reared upwards in confusion, giving your exhausted arms a moment’s respite. Then you blinked in surprise as it staggered and lurched to one side and brought its clawed fingers to its mouth like it was trying to pull the darts out. So those four tranquiliser shots had done something after all.

It shook its head, perhaps trying to clear its vision, and dropped down to all fours to advance on you again like a hyena, gnashing its jaws and spitting everywhere. While the tranquiliser had clearly done something, it would not be enough to take it down, and you were out of options.

Just as a part of you prepared yourself to die, something whistled through the air and the creature was blown back off its feet to land with a thud two metres away across the clearing, near your ruined tent. You could just make out a long, javelin shaft protruding from its stomach.

A wild, furious, screaming roar sounded from the trees behind you an instant later.

While you just lay there on your back, stunned and shaking, a shadow leapt right over you, briefly silhouetted against the face of the moon. As you watched, as if in slow-motion, you realised they were missing an arm.

“Croc?”

A heartbeat later, as the enemy staggered back to its feet with a now-familiar looking spear still sticking out of its torso, a second missile soared overhead and embedded itself into the chest of the already impaled creature, accompanied by a deeper, more primal roar. Red.

They’d come for you.

Somehow, they’d known.

You started to cry.

Seemingly heedless of the two harpoons that had stabbed massive holes in its chest, the creature tore itself free of them, dragging the spear points out through its own chest and stomach, before hurling itself at the second figure who had come charging out of the underbrush like death incarnate.

Big Red stood over you and bellowed a challenge at the creature. His mandibles flared as wide as they could go, and his arms and chest and shoulders heaved with barely-contained, protective rage. Each step he took towards it and away from you, you felt the ground tremble. He hunched forwards, ready, focused, and Croc circled the enemy on the other side. It was like their sparring match but now they were working together, and the creature had two, fresh warriors to face down while phosphorescent, blue blood spurted and seeped down its shiny carapace.

Even with the tranquiliser in its system, the enemy wasn’t about to give up easily, and even injured, it was still fast and agile, using the trees and the intermittent darkness for cover. It soon sensed that they were protecting you, and it kept trying to circle back to you. It slipped from a branch though when Croc shot it down with a blaster, and it landed with a thud in the leaf litter almost right beside you.

You scrambled back and Red charged forwards with another ear-splitting roar. He caught it around its middle with one arm and slammed his whole bodyweight into it, driving it back with his big shoulder and ramming it into a tree as it reached its wicked claws out for you. To your horror though, you watched as it changed its mind, scrabbled to get a good hold with its claws on Red’s arms, and then sank its festering, foaming jaws deep into his neck.

Big Red screamed in rage and pain and raised both hands, trying to rip the creature’s head right off its neck where it was latched like a leech to his jugular.

While he struggled and staggered backwards, the creature thrashed its tail, but Croc raced forwards, dodged inside the reach of the whip like appendage, and stabbed upwards repeatedly under its elongated skull with a twin-bladed knife until it sagged and loosened its hold, and Red finally tore its head clean off its shoulders. The carcass sprayed some more of its violently-blue, glowing blood around the clearing and then tumbled away to lie twitching in the dirt.

Croc wasted no time and surged forwards for Big Red who had sagged against the tree trunk, grabbing something from his belt and immediately raising his arm to jab Red directly in the throat with what looked like a glowing green syringe. Big Red staggered, slipped sideways, and fell to one knee beside you, heaving and gasping.

Trembling all over, you eased yourself to sit upright, wide eyed with horror. “Red?”

His own luminescent blood was spattering down onto the pine needles too, mingling with the blue of the enemy’s.

Neither one of them responded and you stared, transfixed, as Red keeled over and started to convulse even before he fell to the ground. Croc let out a single scream of horror and distress, his mandibles wide, and he cradled Red’s head in his remaining right hand as Red juddered and shook and bled all over himself. Horrible sucking sounds escaped his foaming, closing throat, his eyes rolled back behind pale membranes, and his limbs went rigid as the creature’s poison hit his system.

“Red!” you screamed and tried to crawl closer but Croc warned you off with a terrifying roar. He didn’t have a free hand to keep you back, but his expression did the job well enough and you froze. “Red…?”

Overhead, a searing white light blasted down out of the dark sky, illuminating everything with a painfully bright glow. The treetops then began to whip and lash about in the downdraft of the approaching vessel, and your ears popped under the sudden boom of engines as it came to a hovering halt above the canopy.

A single figure then descended on a black rope, and for a moment through the adrenaline and delayed shock, you couldn’t figure out whether the new arrivals were Croc and Red’s people or your own until a massive figure crouched down beside you and chittered something at you.

A second later, they were shoved bodily aside with a protective snarl, and Croc’s familiar face filled your vision as he crouched.

“Red?”

“He’ll be fine,” Croc said, though he still sounded panicked. “He’s fine. They’ll take care of him. Are you badly hurt?”

Mutely, you shook your head and tried to see past Croc’s body to where Red was lying eerily still. “Not really. Just… maybe some acid… and a cut…”

“Come here,” Croc said, and he drew you into his one-armed hug while the unfamiliar alien turned from staring at Croc in amazement to dealing with Red with the calm air of a paramedic.

“Croc,” you sobbed, and the events of the last few minutes swept over you.

You were shaking uncontrollably, but he held you close. “We’re here,” he crooned. “You’re safe. You’re safe. It’s dead. You fought with honour. You’re safe. I’ll protect you.”

“Croc, Red…?”

“Shh,” he said, and drew back. “Come on. We need to get you out of here. Take what you need from your tent… and we’ll take care of you.”

You rose on shaky legs and grabbed your rucksack from the wreck of your little tent, stuffing your water bottle and phone into one of the side pockets. There was only the sleeping bag and mattress left, but you didn’t grab either of them before you staggered out into the clearing again. The gun lay empty somewhere among the pine needles, and you had no idea where the machete had gone in the chaos.

In the harsh lights of the ship, you saw Big Red lying completely immobile on the floor, with the newcomer bending over him. “Red?” you whimpered, taking a step towards him. A hand grabbed your wrist and you instinctively twisted out of it. “No! Red!”

Croc growled your name and grabbed for you again, holding firm this time and turning you physically away to face him. “Let them do their job,” he said. “They will heal him. The antivenom won’t take long to work. They got here in time. Let them work.”

“Red…”

“Come,” Croc said, and he led you away to the dangling rope that hung between the trees from the silver ship above. As you cricked your neck up to stare at it, you saw that it was exactly the same as Croc and Big Red’s ship had been, except that it was whole and undamaged, and flying.

Croc clipped you mutely into a harness while you just stood there, and you soon found yourself being drawn up into the open belly of the ship. About halfway up, you realised how much your hands and face were hurting.

Inside, another of their kind stared openly at you before shaking themselves and helping you out of the harness. This one was much shorter than Croc and Red, and was completely white with red eyes and pink ‘dreads’. The third member of this crew, you presumed, was flying the ship.

“Hi,” you said stupidly, and the leucistic alien stepped back a pace before flaring their mandibles at you in something resembling a wary threat display from a cobra. From behind you, another hissing started, and you whipped around to see Croc being winched through the hatch to land in a perfectly-balanced fighting stance. He un-clipped himself and then stepped between you and the other alien, looming over them to growl something at them in their own language. Whatever he said clearly had significance, because they looked at you anew, then bowed their head.

“Come on,” Croc said, guiding you to one side as the alien who had been tending to Big Red lifted him through the hatch on a special stretcher. Their ghostly companion helped to get him to one side and you stared at Big Red’s still, limp, bleeding body lying on the cargo bay floor.

“Croc,” you whispered. He looked so vulnerable.

“He’ll be alright,” Croc said again, though he sounded tense.

You staggered, your knees suddenly going out from underneath you, and before you had even realised you were going to pass out, everything warped and blurred, and you fell backwards in a dead faint.

Waking was a slow process. You clawed your way back to consciousness through a thick, groggy, cotton-wool fog that filled your mind and made everything slow and hard to process.

You finally opened your eyes to find yourself lying on a firm but comfortable surface, with low, warm lighting illuminating smooth, carbon-fibre walls and what looked like a carved amber panel on the opposite wall.

You were surprisingly comfortable, cosy even beneath the blankets, and there was something breathing steadily next to you.

You blinked. A familiar pattern of cream and ochre and iron oxide skin came into focus and you gasped and sat bolt upright, staring. You were lying at Big Red’s right side, and his chest was rising and falling with a regular, healthy rhythm. He had a squashy-looking poultice of some kind over the left side of his throat and bandages around his collarbones, and you gasped softly when you saw that a couple of his ‘dreads’ had been bitten off halfway down their length, but he was alive.

Bowing your head to touch your forehead to his chest as relief washed through you, you stifled a sob and slid your arm around his torso, squeezing. He inhaled more deeply and turned his head with a low, repeated clicking sound in his throat.

“Red…” you whispered and looked up to find him blinking slowly at you. “You ok?”

Carefully, he nodded and turned his head back to stare up at the ceiling. His right arm tightened around you though, and he pulled you down to lie almost on top of his chest. He closed his eyes again, apparently exhausted, and began to purr.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there, clinging to him, but some time later, a door opened nearby with a soft hiss, and you startled and snapped your head up. Croc strode in and ‘smiled’ his mandibles at you when he saw you, and you relaxed.

“Hey,” you rasped. You hadn’t noticed how thirsty you were until then.

He bowed his head. “Are you alright?” he asked and you nodded. He spoke to Red in their language and Red clicked something back at him. “Good,” was all he said.

“Croc, what’s going to happen now? Where are we?”

He nodded and adopted an easy kind of ‘parade rest’ stance while he talked to you. “We are back at the clearing where we crashed. Our commander has given us orders to take you to your facility directly.”

“Croc, you can’t! They’ll shoot you down!” you blurted, sitting bolt upright. “They won’t be expecting it.” You paused and said, “I can try to contact them once I get back in range. I think something on your ship disrupted my GPS equipment on the way out here. My maps stopped working, and I didn’t test it but I’m fairly sure my satellite phone wouldn’t work either. If I can get in touch with them, I can tell them not to attack…”

He nodded. “Are you well enough to come to the bridge and speak via link with our commander?”

You blinked. “Croc, I’m not… I’m not a diplomat or anything… I’m just a researcher…”

He clicked reassuringly at you and Red moved his hand to the small of your back.

“We aren’t here to start a war,” Croc said. “We just want to return you so that you can tell your people the High Elder’s message. With communications open, we can find a solution. You have seen first hand now what you’re up against.” He paused and tilted his head a little. “You need our help.”

“Yeah,” you croaked. “Yeah, we do.”

“You fought like one of us though,” Croc grinned. “We saw you as we approached.”

Red clicked proudly at you and stroked another circle across your back before his hand fell softly away. He was too tired to keep it there.

With a sigh, you slid carefully off the bed and looked down at your ripped and torn clothes. Only then did you remember the way the creature’s tail had cut your cheek too, but when you brought your hand to your face, you found only the slightest bump across your skin.

“What…?” you asked, looking at Croc. “And the acid too…?” You stared at your palms that were both smooth and only a little marked in places.

He grinned and gestured towards Red’s poultice. “It is not just our weapons and technology that is superior to yours. Turns out our medicine works on humans as well.”

“Tell me you didn’t just find that out?” you said. “I’m not a guinea pig…”

Croc didn’t seem to know what a guinea pig was or the significance, but he shook his head. “We knew already,” he said.

“Right. Ok, well, I guess I’ll come and talk to this commander of yours and see if we can figure out how to contact my boss.” You turned to Big Red and placed your palm in the centre of his ridged, muscular chest. “Get some rest,” you said. “And… thank you for coming for me. I don’t know how you knew, but… thank you.”

Red didn’t seem to have the energy to form human speech, but he clicked something at Croc who nodded and turned to you.

“Come,” he said and you followed him out of the room, casting one last look back at Red, who already seemed to be asleep on the low, comfortable bed.

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Am I forgiven yet? Did we like seeing the lads in action? Do we like the glimpses of the new friends? Is Red gonna be ok?

Next Chapter -->

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[petermorwood]

Interesting to see this post cross my dash again.

I was watching a movie late last night and, with that post's criticism of unbroken long speeches and suggestions of how to break them, here's an example of how a very famous one was done.

The movie I was watching was "Jaws", and the long speech is The Indianapolis Monologue. There are several YouTube clips, but a couple of them leap straight in at the start of the speech.

The clip below has the lead up to The Speech which, IMO, matters a lot in preparing for what follows; there's not just a Mood Whiplash - cheery drunk to OMG Whut - to make the viewers pay attention, but also what I mentioned in the other post, an entirely legitimate reason for an "As You Know" speech.

One character, Hooper, knows the significance of "USS Indianapolis" - his shocked-almost-sober reaction makes that very plain - but the other character, Brody (and the audience he represents), doesn't know and needs told.

In addition (also as mentioned in the other post) despite being a single-character monologue, the speech is "broken" by cutting away from the speaker, Quint, to reaction shots from the other characters present. Even when Quint is on-screen he isn't centre-screen, Hooper is visible in the background where his silent, apprehensive attention accompanies the story he's hearing.

*****

This can be done in words, too: inserting other actions or reactions by means of paragraph breaks is the equivalent of visual cut-aways, and serve the same functions - making a lot of words from one character into several smaller groups of words, while showing the cumulative effect of all those words on other listeners.

Even a soliloquy with no-one else listening benefits from occasional breaks describing what the speaker is doing, how their emotions show, where they are etc. It's all far better than A Wall Of Text.

The entire speech is 438 words, and Robert Shaw delivers them over 3 min 34 sec.

I've got three PDF versions of the "Jaws" screenplay, all different, and this speech varies in every one but are never what's in the movie, so I constructed mine as a transcript from several listenings, and have used paragraph breaks to try matching Shaw's delivery.

Also, as an Exercise For The Scholar (me, anyway) I've inserted and timed the cuts where Quint isn't on screen or speaking to show how short they can be.

Japanese submarine slammed two torpedoes into our side, Chief. We was comin' back from the island of Tinian to Leyte. Just delivered the bomb. The Hiroshima bomb. Eleven hundred men went into the water. Vessel went down in twelve minutes. Didn't see the first shark for about half an hour. Tiger. Thirteen-footer. You know how you know that when you’re in the water, Chief? You tell by lookin' from the dorsal to the tail. What we didn't know ... was our bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signal had been sent. Huh.

CUT TO BRODY (3 sec) then BACK TO QUINT WHO TAKES A DRINK (2 sec)

They didn't even list us overdue for a week. Very first light, Chief, sharks come cruisin'. So we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know it’s ... kinda like old squares in a battle, like you see in a calendar, like the Battle of Waterloo, and the idea was, shark comes to the nearest man, that man he start poundin' and hollerin' and screamin’, an’ sometimes the shark go away. Sometimes he wouldn't go away. Sometimes that shark, he looks right into you. Right into your eyes. You know the thing about a shark, he's got lifeless eyes. Black eyes, like a doll's eyes. When he comes at you, doesn't seem to be livin'. Until he bites you, and those black eyes roll over white and then, ah, then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin'. The ocean turns red, and despite all the poundin' and the hollerin' they all come in an’ they... Rip you to pieces.

CUT TO BRODY (2 sec) then BACK TO QUINT

Y’know, by the end of that first dawn, lost a hundred men. I dunno how many sharks, maybe a thousand. I dunno how many men, they averaged six an hour.

CUT TO BRODY (3 sec) AS QUINT CONTINUES OFFSCREEN

On Thursday mornin', Chief...

BACK TO QUINT

I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cleveland. Baseball player. Bosun's mate. An’ I thought he was asleep; reached over to wake him up. Bobbed up an’ down in the water, was like a kinda top. Upended... Well, he'd been bitten in half below the waist.

CUT TO BRODY (2 sec) then CUT TO HOOPER (2 sec) then BACK TO QUINT

Noon the fifth day, Mister Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura saw us, he swung in low and he saw us - a young pilot, a lot younger than Mister Hooper. Anyway he saw us and he come in low, and three hours later a big fat PBY comes down and start to pick us up. You know that was the time I was most frightened. Waitin' for my turn. I'll never put on a lifejacket again. So, eleven hundred men went into the water, three hundred and sixteen men come out, the sharks took the rest, June the 29th, 1945. Anyway, we delivered the bomb.

*****

For comparison, down below is what it looks like without any paragraph breaks, speech instruction (gravely / incredulous etc.) or screen direction (track right / dolly in / close on / match cut etc.).

(BTW, some of these effects can be used when writing prose, to good effect, but that's for another time.)

This is the Wall of Text effect, and it sometimes turns up on the internet, courtesy of people who don't know how to use Enter except when they're sending a post.

I'm not saying this is how the speech would have looked in the real shooting script, but it might. From my own screenwriting experience, actors don't like being told how to deliver their lines and directors don't like being told how to set up their shots.

There's a bit more flexibility when writing animation, but in both cases crafty writers write so that the way they want a thing done works out as the best way to do it.

Sometimes this trick even works... :->

*****

Here's the Wall Of Text:

Japanese submarine slammed two torpedoes into our side, Chief. We was comin' back from the island of Tinian to Leyte. Just delivered the bomb. The Hiroshima bomb. Eleven hundred men went into the water. Vessel went down in twelve minutes. Didn't see the first shark for about half an hour. Tiger. Thirteen-footer. You know how you know that when you’re in the water, Chief? You tell by lookin' from the dorsal to the tail. What we didn't know was our bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signal had been sent. Huh. They didn't even list us overdue for a week. Very first light, Chief, sharks come cruisin'. So we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know it’s kinda like old squares in a battle, like you see in a calendar, like the Battle of Waterloo, and the idea was, shark comes to the nearest man, that man he start poundin' and hollerin' and screamin’, an’ sometimes the shark go away. Sometimes he wouldn't go away. Sometimes that shark, he looks right into you. Right into your eyes. You know the thing about a shark, he's got lifeless eyes. Black eyes, like a doll's eyes. When he comes at you, doesn't seem to be livin'. Until he bites you, and those black eyes roll over white and then, ah, then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin'. The ocean turns red, and despite all the poundin' and the hollerin' they all come in an’ they rip you to pieces. Y’know, by the end of that first dawn, lost a hundred men. I dunno how many sharks, maybe a thousand. I dunno how many men, they averaged six an hour. On Thursday mornin', Chief I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cleveland. Baseball player. Bosun's mate. An’ I thought he was asleep; reached over to wake him up. Bobbed up an’ down in the water, was like a kinda top. Upended. Well, he'd been bitten in half below the waist. Noon the fifth day, Mister Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura saw us, he swung in low and he saw us - a young pilot, a lot younger than Mister Hooper. Anyway he saw us and he come in low, and three hours later a big fat PBY comes down and start to pick us up. You know that was the time I was most frightened. Waitin' for my turn. I'll never put on a lifejacket again. So, eleven hundred men went into the water, three hundred and sixteen men come out, the sharks took the rest, June the 29th, 1945. Anyway, we delivered the bomb.

[bakugotrashpanda]

!!:angst

A/N: I cried in @katsukikitten's dms about A Discovery of Witches (one of my all-time favorite series to read) and she encouraged the angst so… tada. Anyways if you’re familiar with the series, it’s totally based off of Gallowglass’ situation. 😬

(4/15/2023 - edited to remove Bakugou's name since I want to use him in a different story but same universe)

Vampire!Kirishima who has to get his tattoos redone twice a year because of his accelerated healing so they go through a lifetime of wear in the span of six months before his body rejects them all together. You’re his tattoo artist and a fellow vampire which makes sense otherwise he’d have to find a new artist every single time. You’ve been his artist for about 250 years now, but who’s counting? Not once have you questioned the meaning behind the works of art adorning his chest, biceps, and back – everyone has secrets, some happen to have more than others.

Your needle traces lines you know by heart. A woman whose face isn’t generic lines. No, this woman means something to him. He had it before he met you, this nameless woman who hides beneath his shirt but is forever close to his heart. “Who is she?” you murmur to yourself. Kirishima stiffens beside you. Were he a human, he wouldn’t have heard your question. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

You return to your work, a soft warming filling your cheeks. Embarrassment to this degree is unusual for you, having lived multiple lifetimes and all – eventually you thought you ran out of things to be embarrassed about. But here you are, your foot in your mouth and at least five more hours of work today alone.

Kirishima’s sonorous voice fills the private room without even trying. Back in the times of knights and battles of strength, his voice would be the one heard above the rest shouting orders before charging into battle. “I was charged with protecting her.”

Oh. “And she died?” No vampire forgets their first. Their first kill. Their first love. The first time they see the light leave their loved one’s eyes. The people who choose this life leave friends and family behind. The ones who don’t get a say have their loved ones ripped away from them.

“No,” Kirishima tilts his head to the side in lieu of a shrug. “She lives uptown with my cousin. They got married… well it might seem like a couple months for them, but it’s been centuries since I heard the news.” His heart beats loudly once in the small room. He sounds so easygoing, but his eyes tell a different story.

“You still love her,” you say softly.

“I shouldn’t.”

“You can’t help who you love.”

“But I knew from the beginning that she would never love me as I love her.”

The buzz of your tattoo machine amplifies the silence between the two of you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Kirishima sighs. “It won’t undo centuries of pain.”

“But you can start to get it off your chest.”

For the first time in decades, the man in front of you smiles. He runs a hand through his long, red strands of hair. And he talks. He talks without reserve. About how he met the woman near on five hundred years ago. How his cousin swore him to secrecy because loving a witch of all creatures is forbidden. To hide from some… complications in the modern day, both the witch and Kirishima’s cousin hid within time. That’s when Kirishima met them – the modern day cousin and his witch. And he fell in love with her kindness, her generosity towards everyone, her willingness to stand up and fight for what she believes in, and her ability to love. He didn’t intend for it to happen, but it did. And he guarded that secret well.

Life happened. And the two of them returned to the present. One day they’d meet again. For him, it would be agonizingly slow centuries. For her, maybe a week or two. And then he received a summons from his grandfather that he couldn’t ignore where he’d been given the task of locating and protecting the witch while she grew up so she could make her way to Kirishima’s cousin again.

“And your cousin doesn’t know that your grandfather gave the order?” you clarify.

“Our grandfather…” Kirishima’s voice trails off. “You couldn’t say ‘no’ to him.”

“Your grandfather knew you loved her and exploited it.”

Kirishima’s brows knit together in frustration. His muscles tense beneath your hands while you work. “He knew I’d make sure she lived and found her knight in shining armor. So I got to watch her grow up. Every scraped knee, every late night studying, every graduation – I was there for it all. And I was there when they met.”

You laugh, but there’s no humor in your voice. “And let me guess, you’d do it again in a human heartbeat?”

“I would.” Maybe it’s the way his voice cracks that causes you to look up at him. Maybe it’s his resolve that he would go through a millennium of pain and longing for the one person he will never be with. Whatever the case, you stop working and catch the single tear fighting to stay in his waterline.

The hard edge leaves your voice as you resume your work. “How do you do it?”

One of Kirishima’s massive hands covers his eyes and part of his forehead. “It feels like death all over again when I see them together. I guess I’m a glutton for pain.”

“Sounds like you need a fresh start.”

“I can’t leave.”

“Your job is over. You made sure she survived. They found each other.” You pause again and flick the hand shielding his face. It drops to his side and weary crimson eyes slide over to you. “What about you? Who’s going to make sure that you survive?”

“Sounds like you’re trying your best,” he attempts to joke.

“Maybe I am, or all of this has been for nothing,” you laugh and gesture to half of the tattoos you’ve gone over.

He lets out a burst of hearty laughter before settling back into his seat. “You’re right… I’d need a travelling tattoo artist if I leave though.”

“It’s a shame you don’t know too many vampire artists who would be willing to put up with you,” you smirk. “I’ll need a week to close up shop here.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Genesis —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: I just watched a kdrama that ripped my heart out and God knows I feel sorry for you cause that's exactly the type of romance I write 😭-Danny

Words: 1,932

Phase Six Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘BRIGHTSIDE’ -by The Lumineers

v: Jane M. Maximoff

Cat continued to help May, for three weeks that was her job, then she would have dinner with Parker every night —every two nights at May's place, if they were lucky, if not, it was mostly just salt crackers and orange juice in his dimly lit living room.

Parker was doing his best to rebuild the beeper with scraps he already had, but they didn't have anything to make a connection between worlds, they didn't know what had caused it in the first place, and their prospects weren't looking all that well.

Pulling apart and tinkering with E.D.I.T.H. would not do either, her Peter had built the beeper out of the trash and it worked with radio frequencies, the Stark satellites had to exist in order for E.D.I.T.H. to function. In other words, it was like trying to make a laptop work using the insides of a toaster.

Parker was starting to pick her up later than usual, and he didn't want to tell her what was keeping him from getting there on time. May said he would have these moments throughout the year in which he seemed to be occupied with some top-secret project. Cat guessed he was handling some spider-man business he didn't want her to take part in.

"Cat! Cat!"

The mutant jumped and looked at the older woman over the boxes she was carrying. "Yes?"

"Told you not to take them all at once!" May reprimanded her. "You'll hurt yourself!"

For Cat, the boxes were no heavier than empty egg carriers, but she couldn't say that to the woman. She let her take the one on top of the pile, then continued walking. "Don't misjudge my strength, May, I could carry more if I wanted to," she said playfully. "Honestly, I'm incredibly strong."

"You're just like Peter," the woman laughed. "I see why you get along."

Cat walked alongside her. "Tell me more about him as a kid, please..."

"Haven't you grown tired of this old woman rambling about her boy?"

"Not at all," she admitted with a genuine smile. "I had this friend back in, er, where I went to high school. His mom would show me all of his baby pictures whenever I visited, it drove him mad, but I liked it. She cared for him, and that was nice to see. Real love is such a rare find..."

May stared at her weirdly. "That sounded like something my husband would say. I think Ben would've liked you."

"I've heard that before," Cat grinned. "I'm sure I would've liked him as well."

"You would've been great company for Peter when he was a kid."

"Oh, I'm not sure," she laughed. "I once got in trouble for fighting an older student, she called me a freak, and all I had asked for at first was a proper apology, but she kept going... anyway, we would've ended up detesting each other, your nephew and I."

May smiled at her. "I disagree."

Parker was overly fidgety that night. He walked the street skipping, cracking jokes, and holding her hand to get her to walk faster, he seemed in a hurry.

"...so I finish my presentation, right? I'm ready to get out and sleep in the library for the next hour, 'cause I was exhausted..."

"Uh-huh," Cat replied, smiling at his antics.

"Then this jerk— and you know who I'm talking about—"

"Kyle?"

"Kyle!" He laughed. "Freaking Kyle gets up like he's part of the British parliament, and he walks past me to do his presentation and pats my shoulder like he's my dad or something, and tells me 'Well done, Parker, you're finally getting the hang of it!'."

Cat's mouth fell open. "He didn't!"

"The crowd went silent!" Parker let out an incredulous laugh. "Everyone heard him and knew I'd half-assed that assignment, I couldn't care less I just wanted to get it done— and he says that to make me believe what? That I'm a shitty student? I traveled the multiverse!"

"I don't understand why he's so set on humiliating you..."

"I'm telling you, man, I hold onto the hope that he'll trip and fall in front of his crush one day," in spite of the theme of conversation, he was still smiling. "Anyway I got a good grade, and tomorrow we're starting the subject I'm actually interested in, and I'm gonna mop the floor with Kyle."

Cat laughed, she shook her head at his statement. Parker liked making her laugh, he would often catch her lost in thought and with a sorrowful look that made him feel stupid. Knowing he could make up for his mistake by giving her a lovely time in his world lifted his spirits.

"What about you? You had fun?" He squeezed her hand, slowing down his steps.

"Well, we received a big donation of teddy bears, May put me on needlework, gave me these felt hearts Owen did in his spare time, and we gave each bear a heart before we closed them. The children won't know their bears have hearts, but..."

She caught him staring at her and it made her lose her train of thought, Cat chuckled awkwardly and pushed the curls out of her face, quickly changing the subject.

"You're chatty today," she pointed out.

"Am I? Maybe. I have good news," she had the feeling he'd been dying to reveal this to her.

"Is it the beeper?" She asked promptly.

"Kinda," he smiled. "Let's go back to my place and I'll show you."

"Okay, close your eyes," he told her as they stepped into the apartment.

"Why?"

"Just do it!" He covered her eyes impatiently.

"Parker!" She grabbed a hold of his wrist and moved it aside. "Fine! Weirdo..."

He guided her to the couch and sat her down. "I have something for you..."

Cat's mind jumped to the beeper, but she didn't want to get her hopes up. "Is it doughnuts?"

"No," he pulled something out of his closet and went back to where she was. Cat sniffed the air and he poked her head. "Don't cheat!"

"I'm curious!" She complained.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now..." he placed a box on her lap.

Cat looked down at it, a little wary. "What's this?"

"You were begging me to let you see five seconds ago," he frowned. "Open it!"

Cat pushed off the lid and stared at the fabric that was folded inside. It was blue and red, mostly blue, and it had a shine to it. It wasn't as soft as her Copycat suit, but that was what it was: a suit.

She locked eyes with Parker. "You did this?"

He shrugged, gazing at her eagerly. "You've been so patient even though I haven't done much— and you've been helping May... you can barely get by here, and this apartment is nowhere near as nice as yours, but you still act like I'm doing you a favor—"

"You are."

"I dragged you out of your world and I'm sorry. I wanna make it better. I can't take you home yet, but I can give you a bit of your old life back."

"Are you suggesting I patrol with you?"

Parker gifted her one of his tight-lipped smiles. Cat stared at the suit, she drew the whole thing out: It was designed in the same way as his, with removable gloves and separated into upper and lower parts. There was no sign of a mask, but she found a red piece of fabric large enough to wrap around and cover the lower half of her face. He thought of the basic parts of her old suit and included them in his design.

"No way!" Wrapped inside the scarf, she found a pair of dark blue goggles. "I love it!"

She looked at him, her heart beating wildly. The young man scratched the back of his head, shrugging a little as he did. "You can join me if you want. If it doesn't feel, dunno, wrong or something..."

"I'd love to patrol with you," she admitted. "Been a while since I did that with a webhead... my god, thank you so much."

"I only want you to feel at home..." Cat got up and hugged him, inhaling his scent. Parker hugged her back with a chuckle.

"I don't have to worry about anything here, do I? You're so nice," she said without thinking.

"It's nothing..." Parker whispered.

She lifted her gaze and Parker looked down. They were very close, and now she was conscious of how her heart hadn't stopped pounding for almost five minutes. His skin was so warm... his hair looked so soft... Parker leaned closer and brushed her nose, she closed her eyes at the feeling.

Contrary to the time she'd first kissed the Peter from her universe, her mind was buzzing with terror. This was wrong, it was a terrible idea. Her lungs pulled in the air so vigorously that she gave a start, for a moment she had the feeling that her heart had stopped for half a second. The young woman caught his hand, which had slowly made its way to her face, and held onto it tightly.

Cat stared at his knuckles, fearing his eyes would push her to do something stupid. "I can't..." she muttered. Parker tried to find her eyes but she looked down, staring at the box that had fallen to the floor without her noticing. "We need to be back before it's too late, you have a test tomorrow, right?"

"Jane—"

"You should also call me something other than that while we're outside," she interrupted him, finally dropping his hand. "Cat or Copy is okay. C.C. is better, but you know, not a good idea to use that name just in case."

"Okay..." he said quietly, he watched as Cat quickly picked up her stuff and escaped to the bathroom.

The mutant closed the door and leaned against it, both hands pressing her new suit against her chest.

"How did you know my size?" She examined her suit in awe.

"A trick aunt May taught me," he raised his gloved hand and spread his palm to explain. "You use your thumb and your middle finger as a measurement tool, it's easy."

"Gotta teach me that for later," Cat hummed. "How do you add the soles on the feet?"

"I'll explain later," he chuckled. "Put on your mask and let's get going."

Copycat pulled the scarf over her nose and stared at her reflection in the mirror: Silver locks falling on her shoulders, purple cat eyes behind her safety goggles, and her body enveloped in red and blue. It wasn't her, but it felt amazing.

Spider-man climbed the skylight first after she announced there was no one on the rooftop, she used his powers to stick to the wall and followed him through. The air was cold on her body, tomorrow there'd be a big chance the city would wake up covered in snow, but right now, Cat couldn't care about freezing her ass off. She was free.

"We'll start on the east side, alright? So I can remember which parts I've visited, in case I can't patrol the whole city in one night. Come here..."

He offered his hand to her and she stared at it blankly. "What?"

"I'll swing you."

Cat laughed. "No, you won't..." she shot a web straight out of her wrist, making him gasp.

"What the hell!"

"I can copy Mr. Parker's powers again! And he gave me permission, so it's cool."

"I am so jealous right now," he seized her wrist, lifting it up to look at it closer.

"Stop," she took her hand back ignoring the thrill his touch gave her and approached the edge of the building. "East side, you say?"

Cat took it all in, she'd fully expected to feel antsy, but Jane M. Maximoff was having the time of her life. Copycat vanished in a cloud of brimstone and reappeared on the rooftop across the street. "What are you waiting for, Webster!" She shouted.

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

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[rae-writes]

sinfully virtuous

obey me brothers x reader

word count : 2.k 

a/n : remake!

You and Solomon only made a slight mistake doing your spell practice...only slight! (though even he was a bit shocked at the accidental outcome). Satan thought it was hilarious, he nearly laughed himself into the floor, and you were so gonna get lectured for at least 8 hours. But first, you had someone to meet.

-

Lucifer - The Demon Avatar of Pride

Lucifer : The Angel Virtue of Humility 

You laughed. In your demon boyfriend’s face

You just couldn't help it! and you also gave no fucks, as per usual Angel Lucifer was just so…saccharine sweet

Even though he could probably end you just as quick as your normal Lucifer, but anyway

“Mc was it? It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The six winged Angel bent down slightly to kiss your hand, something not unfamiliar to you, but still enough to send you flushing in the face

“Likewise...Morning Star.” Both Lucifers looked shocked as you giggled sheepishly, “There’s two of you now so I figured we could do with different names to avoid confusion. Though if you’d rather I not, I can always call that one Luci-”

Lucifer gave you an unamused look (“what’s the big deal? You love when I call you that. Aww, you embarrassed?”) 

Morning Star smiled, one that could light up an entire country, “I think it’s perfect.” 

Lucifer grumbled curses in his native tongue, stiffly rushing past you both, his four wings puffing up slightly, “I need to tell Lord Diavolo of this...unfortunate situation.”

And just like that, you were left alone with the Virtue of Humility. It was quite amusing to see Lucifer having such a nature

You studied him for a few moments. “Your wings are very pretty.” 

Morning Star perked up and smiled again, this time a light blush akin to yours on his features, “Why, thank you. It’s nice having six of them but sometimes it’s a hassle to keep them clean, especially the bottom two.” 

“I could brush them out for you.” You began to stutter at his starstruck expression, “I-I brush Lucifer’s with my fingers all the time so I’m well versed in wing preening. I quite enjoy it, actually.” 

“Please, go right ahead.” 

When Lucifer came back, he found you and his past self curled up in the music room, all six of his wings fluffed out while you held the Angel close to your chest

Even if that wasn’t him anymore, even if Lucifer never wanted to be him again, it still made his heart swell with love for you

When the rest of the brothers came to find the three of you, Morning star was still in the same position as Lucifer laid behind you, hugging you to his chest while his wings curled around you

Mammon - The Demon Avatar of Greed 

Mammon : The Angel Virtue of Charity

Another case in which you laughed in your demon boyfriend’s face 

You genuinely could not stop laughing- you think you were in tears by the time Mammon finally got you to calm down. He used to be the Virtue of Charity??? (“OH MAN- This is fucking priceless, I need an autogragh-”)

“I can see why you’re laughing, Dear Human, it seems my present self is...less than charitable. Anyway, I am Mammon.” he fluttered his wings in greeting and you couldn't help but be awed

There were golden flakes infused in the feathers which sparkled every time he moved. Your Mammon huffed and fluttered his wings in annoyance. You wondered if their Demon form being out was a show of dominance…

“Quit that, Mam-...you know what? Angel you needs a nickname!”

“He DOeS nOT!”

Grinning, you glanced over the Angel and tilted your head, “How about…Charity?”

Charity smiled giddily, “Okay!” 

Mammon muttered what you were assuming was a slew of insults, making you cackle as you led Charity out of the house to walk around 

Being the Virtue of Charity meant he was charitable in all things. He helped a adorably fat bee make its way to the vine of flowers. He ripped part of the blue end of his cloth off for a mother bird’s nest. When the ground got too muddy, he carried you until he thought your shoes would be alright. It was…interesting

When you arrived back at the house, after checking on a still sulking Mammon, you took Charity back to your room to rest your feet. “Hey, Charity?”

“Yes, Mc?”

“Will you...sing for me? I’ve heard Mammon sing once by accident, but the endearing fucker refuses to actually sing for me, and well…you have an incredibly soothing, beautiful voice.” 

The Angel smiled and started to sing- no questions asked. It was visibly something he enjoyed doing, if the spark in his eyes was something to go off of; it was still the same, even as a demon. 

“Amazing…"

When Mammon finally decided to stop sulking, he searched everywhere for you before barging in your room with a few complaints ready on his tongue. It promptly dissolved right then and there when he saw you curled at his former self’s side

When the next brother came to fetch you, Charity was leaning towards you on the wall while Mammon practically engulfed the rest of your body with his own from your exposed side

Leviathan - The Demon Avatar of Envy 

Leviathan : The Angel Virtue of Kindness 

You blinked once, then twice, before emitting a high-pitched “AWWW!”

Levi scowled despite the fiery blush on his cheeks and whipped his tail around, “W-w-what do you m-mean ‘aww’?!?!”

The Angel’s wings flapped excitedly, “A human! Hello! I’m L-Leviathan!”

You could die happy now- look at his cute face! “Ooh, you’re so cute! It’s a pleasure, Leviathan. I’ll keep calling you ‘Levi’, alright?” You looked at your boyfriend for confirmation

Levi grumbled slightly and curled his tail around your wrist, “Yeah, w-whatever. The new episode of my show is about to air...keep him occupied!” He quickly scurried to his room and shut the door, a faint locking noise following

“Well then...How about I show you the Planetarium?” 

Leviathan was surprisingly confident, just a bit shy. He was such an open sweetheart too; It made you feel all fuzzy getting to see what he was like before you knew him

“Y-Y/n?” 

You glanced over at the fidgeting Angel, “Leviathan?”

“M-May I, um...may I hold your hand?”

You smiled. 

The two of you were sprawled out on the rug, hands interlocked, when Levi’s episode was over. The sight made him blink and wag his tail subconsciously 

It took a bit for the others to find you, hands interlocked with both under the starry ceiling of the Planetarium

Asmodeus - The Demon Avatar of Lust

Asmodeus : The Angel Virtue of Chastity 

Asmo was the Angel of what now?

You felt…suspicious of sorts upon first meeting the Angel and when it was revealed Asmo- or Asmodeus- was the virtue of Chastity, you quite literally almost ate shit from falling out of your chair

“Asmodeus, at your service, Darling.” 

You picked your jaw off the floor and laughed, “I’ve seen it all now.” Asmo was pouting at your lack of attention; you were too busy staring at the other him in fascination 

“Hmph! Well…since you’re so awed, you wouldn’t mind taking care of him while I go see what this new big bash is all about, would you? Ta-ta, darling!”

You giggled, waving him off before laughing at Asmodeus’ concerned expression, “Don’t worry about him, it’s normal. Follow me to the garden, I have something to show you.”

You showed him your favorite flower, native only to the Devildom, which made him very pleased 

“How lovely!”

You gazed at him as he examined the flower, a soft smile spreading across your features. In a sense, Asmo hadn’t changed from his Angel self. 

Asmodeus released the flower, letting it fall back into place, and looked back at you. “Shall we go to my present self’s bedroom?” An eyebrow raised at your mischievous grin

Some of the items in Asmo’s room…repulsed him. He was a bit cautious when you allowed him to go about opening drawers, and when he opened a specific one, all he heard was your unhinged laughter at his horror

But the night ended nicely, with you showing him a few nightly-routine products

Asmo came back from his party in a cheerful mood, ready to cuddle, when he was stopped short at the sight of you laying back with his angel self curled at your stomach

When the others barged in, Asmodeus was wrapped tightly around your lower abdomen while Asmo was wrapped around your legs, effectively shielding most of your body from the world

Beelzebub - The Demon Avatar of Gluttony

Beelzebub : The Angel Virtue of Temperance 

First thought? ‘Double the hugs!’ Second thought? ‘I might actually die from cuteness.’ 

The Virtue of Temperance was simply the sweetest- you barely saw any difference in the two besides their forms 

That is until the Angel threw up at watching Beel scarf down the dinner you’d made

You couldn’t help but giggle as you stood behind Beel with your arms loosely around his neck 

“I’m gonna take Beelzebub here for a walk, we’ll be back.”

You only took him to the kitchen so he could get some water and have a seat. You listened in amusement as he started ranting about the ‘unhealthiness’ of his present self’s eating habits and he was simply astonished when you told him, don’t worry, it’s not unhealthy for Beel, it’s his normal appetite

“You haven’t changed much, you know? Still the same sweet Beel I know today.” 

He blushed, smiling over at you, “Yeah?”

You nodded, telling Beelzebub a few stories of Beel and you, and some with his twin included

Beelzebub let out a loud, boisterous laugh. “That sounds like Belphie alright!”

Someone caught your eye in the doorway, wiping at his cheek with a grin

“Beel!”

The three of you fanned out around Beel’s bed and swapped more funny stories and a few questions (from Beelzebub, mostly)

When it got late, you climbed up in Beel’s lap like normal but gestured for the Angel to come closer there’s no way you were missing out on that Beel cuddle sandwich

The 3 of you fell asleep in a big pile of orange, your body practically buried in between them

When Belphie came to get you for dinner, he couldn’t even find you at first. When he did, he saw that both Beels were protectively curling their arms around you with small smiles on their sleeping faces

Belphegor - The Demon Avatar of Sloth

Belphegor : The Angel Virtue of Diligence 

You actually had to take a minute to process seeing, who you assumed was Belphie, running around cleaning the attic

Not to worry though, your Belphie came in before you checked the other one for a fever

You thought the situation was hilarious, but kept in your laugh as you curtseyed along with the younger twin Angel

“Name’s Belphegor!” 

You grinned while raising a brow at your demon boyfriend, snickering at his groan of annoyance and tail trying to swat at you

“I’m not dealing with this- I’m taking a nap.” 

Aaand there he goes

‘Diligence, huh?’ you thought until a great idea popped into your head, “Belphegor?” 

“Yeah?”

“Wanna go fuck shit up?”

“YES!” 

You spent most of the afternoon running away from both Lucifers. (Demon) Mammon joined in for awhile, but he got caught very easily 

You ran out of steam in only 5 hours, much to everyone’s pleasure, and decided to chill out in the attic room 

“This place feels...special...personal. What happened here?”

You smiled at him, explaining that this was your and Belphie’s spot. First meeting, first laugh, first kiss, first mistake. Every first had happened in this room 

His eyes shone with excitement and tears, “That’s...truly beautiful.” 

You plopped down on the bed and opened up your arms, “You think so?”

Belphegor made his way to you and plopped his head down in your lap, “I do!”

Belphie woke up, irritated you weren’t with him, until he remembered why. He went to go find you, pleased by the amount of ruckus you’d caused while he made his way to the attic

He wasn’t exactly happy he had to share, but it did make his heart beat a little faster at seeing his old self curled up across your lap

Beel went around to find you guys and stumbled upon you, laying across Belphie’s lap while holding on to his shirt, and Belphegor laying across your lap while clutching your shirt

[reidsaurora]

"Christmas Eve Ball" ~ D. Winchester (slightly NSFW?)

Summary: Sworn enemies Y/N and Dean Winchester have to pretend to be the most talked about couple in town. However, by the end of the night, Y/N and Dean aren't just pretending to be lovers anymore.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,222

Content Warning: swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual references, implied sexual activity (basically fade to black smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, implied smut (?)

Extra Notes: I'm not quite sure if Y/N's outfit is completely time period accurate, but if not, we can pretend lol. ☆☆☆ wrote this at Christmas, but it's one of my faves so i'm posting it anyway hehehe

Based On the Prompt: "Wait, can you hear that? Santa says you're an asshole."

Takes Place: Christmas Eve of 2005

Originally Written: 12/18/2021

Supernatural masterlist can be found here!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

If you'd told me I'd be spending my Christmas Eve by pretending to be Dean Winchester's girlfriend at a Christmas ball in order to get some information on a spirit we were supposed to be killing together, I'd have told you that I'd rather pluck my own eyeballs out with a plastic spoon.

But alas, here I was in a hotel room, getting myself ready for a random Christmas ball in Greenwich Village, New York.

I was wearing a long black dress, one of those satin ones that went down to your ankles, and a maroon shawl. I looked good.

As I finished up in the bathroom, I heard a knock on my hotel room door. I assumed it was Dean, so I opened it without question.

Much to my dismay, I was correct in assuming it was him. He was wearing a dark green velvet suit and it looked as though his hair had just been cut.

"Where's your red suit? I thought we were gonna match," I commented.

"Suit place was out of red suits so green was the best they could do for a festive suit," he answered.

"I suppose it'll have to do," I said.

I quickly grabbed my bag off my bed before heading over to him and walking out the door behind him.

When we reached the elevator, it was just the two of us. Dean pressed the button for the first floor as the door shut before looking me over. "You look nice."

"Don't even think about it. We don't have to act nice to each other until the party, so fire away. Hit me with your best insults now," I argued.

"I'm serious. You clean up nice."

"Well, thank you," I sighed. I wasn't quite sure how to respond to him complimenting me. This had to have been leading into an insult.

"Of course, most of your clothes look like they came from a Goodwill donation pile so seeing you in a nice dress is actually refreshing."

There it was.

"I envy anyone who has never met you," I said, rolling my eyes.

Soon enough, we'd made it to Dean's Impala and were getting ready to drive off. He'd at least had enough decency to hold the door open for me, but I was waiting for the moment when he'd shut my dress in the door and rip it or pretend to open the door and then actually lock me out.

Even though I'd been with Dean for less than five minutes, I was already ready for this night to be over.

☆☆☆

After poorly attempting to flirt with a random partygoer, Dean walked back over to me with a slightly disappointed look on his face. It was the kind of face you'd make when you hated the outcome of whatever you did.

"You know, I don't know why you play hard to get," I told Dean, "You're already so hard to want."

"Hey, do you hear that?" he said, pausing after his question. "That's the sound of Santa saying you've been an asshole this year. Assholes don't get presents."

"Oh, so you won't be getting anything either?"

He rolled his eyes as he downed another shot. He was probably six or seven shots in already, and we'd only been there for maybe an hour.

Just then, the orchestra began playing "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas."

Immediately, Dean held up his hand like he wanted to dance. "Would you -"

"Why in the hell do you wanna dance with me, Dean 'I've hated your guts since day one' Winchester?"

"Well, for one, because I'm trying to be nice. Secondly, we're supposed to be playing our parts. Everyone is expecting us to dance."

I wanted to resist, but he had a point. After all, we were supposed to be the mayor's son and his girlfriend for the night. So, I took his hand and he led me to the dance floor.

Dean was supposed to be the mayor's son, who had moved away when he was a child and was moving back to take over for the mayor when he retired. I was playing the role of his girlfriend, soon-to-be fiancee. 

Unfortunately, the two were missing. Luckily, however, the mayor had knowledge of the supernatural and knew Dean. Rather unfortunately for me, I was the only person Dean could get a hold of to play the girlfriend.

"You know, if we're supposed to be dating, soon engaged, why were you flirting with that girl back there?" I asked.

"Yeah… turns out she's not really into threesomes," he stated. "I assume it was because you were gonna be involved."

"Huh, I would've assumed it was because of how repulsive you look tonight," I told him. "And every other night, for that matter."

He chuckled at my statement. "No, I was actually asking her for some advice. I never actually flirted with her."

"Cute that you think you're a good liar."

"I think I'm adorable."

I let out an annoyed sigh. "Why would you need advice? I thought you were an all-knowing man who can mansplain everything."

"You're still mad about that?"

"You tried to mansplain how to load a salt gun… as if I haven't been hunting since I was ten."

His tone changed when he said his next statement. "That's not the only reason you're mad at me, is it?"

It wasn't. Every time I was with Dean, I could only see his dad. And when I saw his dad, I could only think about how he got my dad killed. I knew it wasn't Dean's fault, but I couldn't help but associate him with his dad. It didn't help that he constantly talked about his dad like he was the best man on earth.

Another thing that didn't help was that from day one, he tried to control me. When Sam was in college and Dean had no one to hunt with, Bobby told him to ask for my help. Little did I know that would turn into him bossing me around, insisting that I'd never be a good hunter on my own, and not to mention, almost getting killed by a demon.

"No," I said, shaking my head in response.

"I told you I was sorry. I know I was an asshole back then, but I've changed. Believe me, I'm changing every day."

"Well, that's refreshing, considering that I used to think you only owned one outfit and never washed it," I replied.

"Not that kind of change, you bitch."

We continued to dance in silence, other than the music playing, of course. His hand was rested on my back, but it slowly made its way down to my waist.

"Dean," I breathed heavily. Why did I actually like the feeling of his hand on my waist?

"Just trying to play the part. The way we were dancing made us look like Ron and Professor McGonagall in the Yule Ball scene."

I was taken aback by his comment. "Wait a minute. You've seen the new Harry Potter movie? It's been out for a month."

"I have a confession. I've actually seen it three times," he admitted.

"Nerd," I chuckled.

He narrowed his eyes and bit his tongue in response. Why was that so hot to me?

No. I couldn't possibly be thinking about Dean like that. After all, we hated each other. He annoyed me just by breathing. I annoyed him just by breathing. There was no way I could be thinking Dean was hot.

☆☆☆

"How is this my fault?! You're the one who lost the stupid key!" I shouted.

It had been about a half hour since we'd danced and we found ourselves sneaking around upstairs, attempting to find an important artifact that was supposed to help us defeat the spirit that had taken the mayor's son and soon-to-be daughter in law.

"You were the last one with the key, not me," he argued.

"I was not. I gave it to you earlier on the way here. You put it in your pocket," I defended myself.

"No, you didn't!"

"You know what, Dean? I can't do this anymore. As soon as this case is over, don't ever ask for my help again. I don't care if you've got two dozen demons on your ass, do not ever call me and ask for my help."

"Same here. I don't care if you're tied down by a hundred vampires, don't you ever ask me to do anything for you," he growled.

I looked directly in his eyes as I stated, "Screw you, Dean Winchester."

He inched closer to my face, his eyes locked on mine. "Don't be such a coward. Come screw me yourself."

My mouth was suddenly agape and my eyebrows furrowed. I wondered to myself why'd he say something like that.

"What?" I asked, taking a step back.

He looked away, licking his lip as he attempted to form a response. "I, uh, I didn't mean to say that."

"Then why'd you say it?"

He scoffed, acting as though he couldn't believe I'd asked that. "Just forget it, OK? Let's just find the friggin' key, get into the safe, and get outta here."

What he didn't know was that there was no way I was letting this go. After all, how could I? After the way I'd thought about him earlier, and the way he'd been acting, there was no way I could stop thinking about it.

"Maybe you left in the Impala. Let's go check there," I stated, pretending to change the subject.

"Maybe you left it in the Impala."

I started to head out of the room and down the stairs, Dean hot on my heels. As we started to walk toward the door, a partygoer, an old man I assumed knew the mayor, stopped us.

"Where are you going, Harrington? The party's hardly even started yet," the old man asked.

"Do I know you?" Dean asked in return.

"Ah, come on. I'm Vance Delaney. I'm one of your father's closest friends. I'm surprised he didn't introduce us tonight."

Dean shook Vance's hand. "Well, Vance, I actually left something in my car. I'll be back in a moment."

"Well, don't make the little lady walk out there in the cold. You can stay here with me," he said to me.

"Vance," I started, placing my hand against Dean's chest, "Not to be too outspoken or anything, but this party is so damn boring and we wanted to get out of here." I finished my statement with a smirk.

If looks could kill, let's just say Dean would be a murderer right about now.

"Ellie," Dean whispered in an attempt to tell me to knock it off.

"Oh, don't be so modest, Timothy," I told him, pinching his butt.

Vance chuckled at my behavior. "Enjoy it while you're young. Someday, she's gonna look like my old woman." Suddenly, his attitude changed as his wife walked up. "Hi, Dora. I was wondering when you'd get back," he stated, walking over to his wife and kissing her cheek.

I looked at Dean with a smug look, who simply replied by storming out the front door. I quickly caught up, pinching his butt again.

"Would you just stop?!" he shouted.

"Why did you say what you did?" I asked him point blank.

"I don't know," he replied.

"You had to have thought about it before saying it. Why else would you say it?"

"I didn't mean it."

"Then why say it?" I pressed.

"Because I love you, dumbass!"

Woah. I was not expecting that to be his response.

"What?"

"Don't act like you didn't know."

"I didn't," I confessed.

"Just forget about it. We hate each other's guts. It would never work. Besides, you're a scorpio, and I'm an aquarius. Even the stars don't believe in us."

I stepped closer to him, much like how he'd done earlier. "Well, Dean, if there's one thing you should know about me, it's that I love breaking the rules and that I hate being told what to do."

I pulled him by his jacket, closing the space between our mouths. He was surprised at first, but quickly kissed back. He smiled into the kiss, which only made me smile in return.

After a moment, he barely broke away to open the car door, nearly knocking me down into the backseat. Quickly, he closed the door behind us, immediately going back into kissing me.

He began kissing down my neck and collarbone. I wasn't getting out of this any time soon, and I don't think I minded.

"Dean," I said, attempting to pull away from his kiss trail. "The key."

"Y/N," he stated, rolling his eyes. "You can't just start something like this and then bring up the key," he finished with a chuckle.

He was right, I couldn't care less about the key and to be honest, I hoped we never found it if this is what we were doing instead.

"Eh, you're right. Screw the key," I told him before reconnecting our lips.

Something I failed to mention earlier: that night ended up being my favorite Christmas Eve I'd ever had, and that was only the first of many shared kisses between me and Dean.

And yes, we did forget all about that key.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

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☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆

[vennilavee]

Okay but how about no. 28 with Gojo Satoru 🧍🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️

prompt: accidental kisses b/w exes

warnings: corporate au, superior/boss relationship, age gap (~10 years), dont do this in real life lol!

Gojo Satoru can tell by the sway of your hips and by the way your heels clack along the freshly marbled floors that you’re irritated. No, you’re pissed. Livid, seething, every word for absolutely irate. And dare he say, a little jealous.

He can tell by the neutral curl of your lip and the flash of your dark eyes. He wants to trail after you, but you’d only admonish him. It’s not a good look, you’d say. A boss, a vice president, running after a lowly worker such as yourself.

Gojo is slated to be one of the next members of the C-suite, after all. It would be unbecoming of him to fraternize with someone like you.

It’s the same garbage you had spewed at him months ago, when it was supposed to be the last time he had kissed you with his head buried in between your thighs. And now, you were both together on a week-long business trip overseas, one that Gojo had somehow managed to convince his boss that you were required to be there.

There was no business need for you to be there. Not really. Filling out your expense report would be a pain in the ass, as you didn’t have an executive assistant like Gojo did to do yours for you. You’d given him a hundred scathing reasons to not go.

But still, you’d gone anyway.

Your jaw clicks. You’ve only been in the workforce for a grand total of six years out of college, while your peers and superiors had decades on you. Including Gojo Satoru.

Getting to know him was career suicide and you were certain that you were labeled as something less than savory around the office. But you couldn’t help it, not in the beginning. Not when he’d been the only one to show you the ropes, albeit in a backwards and chaotic way.

Like when he had given you less than twelve business hours to put together a presentation to present to all of the vice presidents in your department during your second week of your new job. He’d thrown you into chaos, and kept you on your toes. But at the end of the day, he is still your superior and no amount of sneaking into your hotel room at midnight during this business trip will change that.

You’re one of the youngest in your group, nearly a decade younger than Gojo himself. But you’re not naive. You know how this goes. He’s the VP, the guy who gets away with everything. And you’re just the girl, the girl who loses everything.

So you ended it on the first day of this business trip, when he had the sheer audacity to come into your hotel room in the minutes of the early morning. You had been getting ready and of course, he had managed to charm his way into getting an extra room key to your hotel room-

“Gojo Satoru, who the fuck do you think you are,” you hiss, throwing a pillow at him, “It’s six-thirty in the morning, how the fuck did you get in here?!”

You haven’t buttoned up your blouse yet, your hands firm on your hips as you glare daggers at him.

“What does the time of morning have to do with how I got in here?” Gojo taunts, “Besides, I’m your boyfriend-”

“Boyfriend? Since when,” you roll your eyes, “I should report you-”

“C’mon, sweetheart. Are you forgetting already?”

And he’s right after all. The last time you went to your human resources partner who was coincidentally your alleged friend, Geto Suguru, he had told you that Gojo was just harboring feelings for you. And you vividly remember Gojo promising you of a vibrant future as your boyfriend. You don’t know how that’s possible if he’s your superior.

But still, you’d kissed him. If not to shut him up.

Men are incompetent, so you’ll do what you must.

“I’m not doing this shit with you anymore, Satoru,” you hiss, “I told you last week.”

“Well, why not?” he pouts at you and you scoff, nearly ready to rip your hair from your roots in frustration.

“Because you’re not worth me getting labeled as the office whore for.”

“Oh? But you like it when-”

“Get out,” you say firmly, fighting the hurt clawing your way up your throat and threatening to swallow Gojo whole, “Now.”

He looks at you from above his black shades, assessing how serious you are about this threat.

He leaves.

Gojo goes after you anyway, despite the angry click of your heels clearly indicating to anyone else that you don’t want to be bothered.

You never asked him for this, after all.

Today is the last day of your business trip, and of course Gojo Satoru had to end it with a presumptuous bang. He’d announced to all of the higher ups that “they could take this corporate, old-school bullshit and shove it up their asses to die with them” because he was planning on separating from the company and taking anyone who believed in his cause with him.

Of course, this unplanned wrap-up had caused an instantaneous uproar from the higher-ups. Part of you, the selfish part, wonders if he had done this for you. He’d always told you, he’d create something new for you. For his world, for the future.

Gojo Satoru was an idiot for this. He caught your eye and your musings were partially confirmed, leading to you stomping out of the conference room to “finish packing”.

He’s overwhelming and he’ll surely be the death of your career. Nobody else could do the things Gojo did and make you feel this way. Underneath all of the anger over your career, there lies something else.

Gojo is many things, but he has more respect for you than anyone else in this godforsaken place. You’re not just the fresh, young thing in the office with him. You’re a person with thoughts and ideas that he actually takes into consideration.

He is so absolutely dramatic. How infuriating.

Gojo Satoru finds you about a week later, at home in Tokyo at a swanky hotel all by yourself and a few of your girlfriends. You feel your gaze on you immediately but you do your best to avoid him. It’s the only night you’ve had to yourself in a while and you won’t have him ruin it.

Just a few more hours and you can walk away from Gojo’s life forever. Perhaps it’s a little impulsive of you, but you'd already drafted your email of resignation to send to your superiors the day you landed back in Tokyo. You don’t know if you’ll have the stones to join Gojo on his crusade, but you have no intention of staying where you’re disrespected.

So instead, you took three days of vacation to collect your thoughts.

Gojo finally peels himself away from the corner of the bar to approach you at the booth with your friends. He’s aware that you’re aware that he’s here, your chest subtly pushed out and your shoulders squared confidently.

You smell deliciously warm, and he wants to sink his teeth into the crevice of your shoulder and your collarbones to trace the shadow of your veins with his tongue. God, he misses you and he can set his own pride aside to admit that.

“Mind if I interrupt?” Gojo says, not breaking eye contact with you. You roll your eyes as per usual with a small smile as your friends giggle.

Shrugging noncommittally, you stand up and allow him to place a hand at the small of your back. You lean into his touch and if he notices, he says nothing.

“You’re avoiding me,” Gojo states as if it’s a fact.

“Not everything’s about you,” you reply.

“I didn’t do it for you,” he spits back, “I didn’t split off with them so that you could have a place by my side that you don’t even really want.”

You glare at him, angry that he can read you so well.

“I did it for us,” Gojo says smoothly, “For the future. We need to be better, so let’s be better.”

You take a moment to expel a long breath.

“I don’t want to be with you,” you say pointedly, “If I’m doing this, I want this on my own. Not because of association by you.”

“Fine, fine,” Gojo says, surrendering his hands up and feeling his heart both ache and swell at the same time, “You with me?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I’m with you.”

He can’t help it, he can’t help the brush of his lips over your forehead. It’s barely there, but it’s enough to set your skin alight. It’s enough for his feelings to bleed out of him and mingle with yours.

tags: @kentobean @aeanya

[starlitangels]

You’ll Do Fine

So... I mentioned in my Small Gifts, Small Family one-shot that Ash went to Babe’s unempowered family’s for Christmas dinner... because I started writing this one first, and then changed directions and posted the Lasko-Freelancer-Gavin one on Christmas Day instead because I actually finished it first. Needed more time to write this one. Here’s Ash going with Babe to Babe’s unempowered family’s Christmas dinner! I know it’s way late. I don’t care 1.4k words. kinda short

—

“You’re nervous,” I stated.

Asher looked up. “What makes you say that?” he asked.

“I got you that fidget cube for last year’s solstice and you’ve barely touched it until today. But now you haven’t put it down for longer than a few seconds for the last six hours,” I said, flicking the turn signal on and changing lanes. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing.”

“Asher,” I warned. He knew I never called him his full first name unless I was serious about something.

“Okay, fiiiiine. I’m nervous. We did this last year and I made a complete idiot out of myself in front of your parents within the first hour and your brother didn’t stop laughing for, like, five whole minutes and I just... I don’t want to immediately put my foot in my mouth again, babe.”

“Well... maybe think before you speak?” I suggested.

Asher barked a laugh. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him giving me a sarcastically raised eyebrow. “Babe. When have I ever done that?”

“Fair point.” I chuckled, braking as we got off the freeway and onto the exit ramp. “But, come on. My family liked you. My sister didn’t shut up about how cute you are to me for like, two months. Every time she texted me.”

“Yeah, but... your dad! He glared at me the whole night.”

“He did not,” I replied. “He was just giving you the look of, ‘If you break my child’s heart, I’ll break your face.’ And, let’s be real here, in a fight between you and my dad, you’d win.”

“Your dad is the same height as David. I absolutely would lose.”

“No you wouldn’t!”

“Baaabe! I can’t shift in front of your unempowered family without breaking covert and I don’t want to hurt your dad anyway. I’d lose!”

I laughed. “Okay, okay. It doesn’t matter anyway. He wouldn’t actually hurt you.”

Ash sighed. “I’m sorry I’m nervous, babe.”

“Don’t be. I felt the same before the solstice parties. Both times.” I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye. “Your pack is like your extended family and there are so many of them—and they are all physically capable of ripping my throat out. Do you know how terrifying that is to someone without powers?”

“They all love you!” Ash protested.

“They do now. But before I knew them... before my first pack meeting and the solstice party... I was so damn scared.”

“Sorry, babe.”

“It’s all good now, Ash. But that’s why you have no reason to be nervous. My family likes you. It’s just Christmas dinner. We eat great food, open a few presents, give a few presents, sing a few carols, and go home.”

“Great. Christmas karaoke. Love it.”

“Ash! You’re a great singer!”

“Not in front of your family!”

I rolled my eyes while we were at a red light. “You’re being so dramatic.”

“That’s me. Mr. Dramatic,” Ash said sarcastically.

I shot him a look. “Baby. You’re the most emotionally intelligent person I’ve probably ever met—”

“Wait till you meet a demon,” Ash interrupted.

“We don’t have the drive time to unpack what that’s supposed to mean, but to finish my point, you’re emotionally intelligent—and you’re smart. I know you’re impulsive and sometimes your verbal filter needs work around people who don’t know you so well, but there’s no reason to be nervous. You’re so sweet, Ash. My family likes you. I mean, hell, my mom asked about a month ago when I’m going to marry you. I brushed it off—but the point stands. They like you. There’s no reason to be nervous.”

Ash kept fiddling with the fidget cube. “Thanks, babe,” he said softly. “And, to put it simply, demons are part of the magical world. They’re from the plane where the rest of us empowered folks draw our magic from. They’re more powerful than any of us—but they feed on human emotions like we eat pizza and wings. And because of that, they’re all empaths. Which is like a telepath—except instead of reading your thoughts they can read your feelings. But each demon feeds on a certain type of emotion.”

“Like anger or sadness or joy or...?”

“Something like that. They’re not... common to run into, but empowered people usually meet at least one at some point in their life. Unempowered people might too, but they’d never know it unless they were informed.”

“Huh,” I said.

“Yeah. So... they’re probably more emotionally intelligent than most humans. Even me.”

“I guess I’ll take your word for that. But, still. You’re gonna do fiiine, babe. I promise.”

“If you say so.”

“One thing, before we get there, though,” I added.

“Shoot.”

“Perfect. I was about to say no swearing in front of my sister.”

Asher laughed.

—

“Mom! Dad! We’re here!” I called as I shut the front door behind us. Asher shook out his hair, sending water droplets flinging around. I laughed and put up my hands to block myself from getting wet. “Ash!”

He laughed and slung his arms around me from the side. “Gotcha, babe,” he teased.

My mom appeared in the front room. “There you are! Come here.” I broke out of Asher’s hold and gave my mom a hug. “Good to see you, honey,” she said.

“You too, Mom,” I replied.

“Come back to the kitchen. Dinner’s ready. We were just about to dish up.”

“Sounds great.” I held out a hand for Asher. He rushed over to it and wrapped his callused hand around mine. Mom smiled at our enclosed hands, then at Ash.

“How are you, Asher?” she asked pleasantly.

“Wait, is Ash here?” my sister’s voice said from the kitchen. Sounding excited.

I glanced back at him with an I told you so expression on my face. Asher chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand awkwardly.

Mom leaned between me and Asher. “Honey, I think your sister has a crush on your boyfriend,” she said.

I laughed and Asher smiled wide.

We rounded the corner to see my dad, brother, and sister milling about the kitchen.

Completely ignoring me, my thirteen-year-old sister rushed over and gave Asher a hug. I laughed and let go of his hand to go pick up a pair of plates. Christmas dinner with my family had gotten less and less formal since my brother and I had both moved out. Which was fine with me. This year it was take-home-bake pizza Mom had probably bought yesterday.

Everyone dished up and we moved to the dining room.

—

Caelum kept to himself in the corner of the dining room, a small smile on his face. Asher had so many knots before today, worrying about this dinner. Those knots were still there, but they were loosening a little. Which was good. There were good feelings all around the room. Caelum guessed that Asher’s partner’s joy was almost palpable to the unempowered humans of their family.

Caelum had been learning how to keep himself to himself when it came to caring for the charges that couldn’t see him. He couldn’t join in with Asher’s infectious laugh, but he could smile.

Asher had such a good laugh. He joked so easily and he was making his partner’s family feel so many good things. It was hard for Caelum not to laugh along, even if he was getting better at being quiet around the charges who couldn’t see him. The good feelings in the room were o—over... overflo... there were so many good feelings that it was easy for Caelum to feed off of them without anyone even noticing the amount going down a little.

—

“—do you call the photos on a turtle’s phone?” Ash asked my sister.

“What?” she replied with a big smile.

“Shell-fies!”

My sister cracked up, snorting her lemonade out of her nose. Which made my brother absolutely lose it, pounding his fist on the table as he coughed on pizza.

I reached under the table and squeezed Asher’s knee. “See?” I whispered. “You’re doing great. They love you.” I met his eyes. “I love you.”

He smiled at me. “I love you too, babe.” He leaned over and pecked a quick kiss on my cheek while my family laughed. I’d seen Asher in the lowest of his lows, but he really shone like the sun when he was goofing off and making people laugh. And I loved seeing him have a good time.

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

[thewritetofreespeech]

im so horny for gojo can i get sum with him having an so thats hella thiqq like she got da dumptruck and da thighs, and she be makin him some good food, pls i just want to be gojos housewife

did you ask for sexy stuff for this prompt? no. did you ask slight bimbo vibes because they’re such a simp for satoru? no. did I do it anyway? yes.

tags: heterosexual sex, oral, doggy style, queen size mc, hedonism, food play, slight bimbo aspects

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

The life of being the strongest was ladened with many burdens.

Fighting powerful curses. Keeping the public safe. Tediously long council meetings.

If he had to listen to one more word out of those billowing old farts that made up the council, he was going to rip his Six Eyes out and hand them to them like ‘here! take it! it’s not worth it!’. He didn’t though, and was very proud of himself that he only made 2 jokes and 11 snide comments in the whole two hours. No one else was impressed by his restraint, however.

Free at last, he had Ijichi drive him home; tricking the poor man into doing it as he could have just as easily gotten home himself. Arriving at his door to the sweet smell of dumplings cooking and sweet song of his dumpling humming in the kitchen.

“Satoru!” [Y/N] cheered when he finally let his presence be known an ran up to him.

“Aaaah~! My sweet [Y/N]-chan. How lucky I am to be greeted home by you, in a naked apron trope no less?” She giggled, of course, as this was how she greeted him ever day. It was how Satoru liked to see her first thing. And given his excitement at seeing her, all naked and curvy except for her frilly pink apron, she was more than happy to oblige. “I got you a present.”

“A present?” [Y/N] asked curiously, pulling back from her hug around his waist to see a box he had produced seemingly out of thin air. “Cupcakes!” She cheered.

“Yep. From the newest bakery in town. They don’t even open officially until tomorrow but I sweet talked the owner into letting me get a sneak preview.” He told her with a wink.

“Satoru, you spoil me.” [Y/N] said as she looked at the beautiful, perfect confections in the box. “If you keep bringing me sweets ever time you go out, I’ll get as big as a house.”

“Nonsense.” Satoru said. Waving his hand as if to literally bat such a thought away. “You’ll always be my perfect little [Y/N] princess. And eating sweets makes you happy. And giving you sweets makes me happy.” His finger dipped down to snatch the white, whipped topping off the top of one cupcake and presented it to her lips. Making her tongue dart out to lick them before opening up and licking the sweet frosting off his digit. “That’s my girl.”

He let her tongue swirl around his finger for a moment before he couldn’t take it anymore, and pulled it free with a wet pop before kissing her greedily. Groaning as he felt her plush, full frame against him and sweet sugar taste on her lips.

“Satoru…” She moaned when he let her go to breathe. “What about dinner?”

“I’m not hungry for that right now princess.” He said as he untied the bow at her pack and let the apron flutter to the ground. “I’m hungry for you.”

Satoru picked her up and carried her to the bedroom; ignoring her protests about how she was probably too heavy because she wasn’t as was being ridiculous. Laying her on the bed, Satoru set the cupcake box down on the nightstand and stripped himself out of his uniform quickly before he laid down on top of her. His face immediately smoothing itself in her ample bosom like always. Enjoying the soft feel of them before he started to suck on and fondle them with gusto.

“Ah! Satoru! Not so rough.” [Y/N] whined when he gave her left breast a bit too firm squeeze.

“Sorry princess,” he apologized. “I just get so excited when I see these beauties. It’s a marvel of medical mystery how you stay upright all day with these. Maybe I should keep you laying down more often.” He teased with a grin. Making his princess blush at the comment.

He played with and licked her breast further, like a sweet treat. Then he got an idea. Reaching over to the nightstand, Satoru grabbing one of the cupcakes from the box. Strawberry. His favorite. His long fingers swiped the top tip of the frosting off, along with it’s sprinkles, then transfer it from one fluffy mound to another. [Y/N] gasped as she felt the sugary paste cover her breast, then bit her lip at her white haired knight’s grin before he licked it off. His tongue making her squirm.

By the time he was finished cleaning her up, his princess was whimpering and quivering under him. “You want some too?” He asked. Tossing his now mangled cupcake back in the box and grabbing another one. Using the same technique only this time on his cock. “Lick it off me princess.”

His lady bit her lip again and shuffled around until she was on all fours. Satoru mentally groaned at the sight of her voluptuous body stretched out, kneeling in front of him, then groaned out loud when her tongue touched his cock. She took great catch to lick all the frosting off him, before sliding all of him into her mouth. Satoru’s turn to squirm. Her mouth seemed famished for his cock as it greedily sucked and bobbed over him. The sorcerer brushing her hair out of her face to watch her enjoy her ‘treat’.

He warned her when he was about to cum, but she wouldn’t back down. When he did, he shot all of his white hot cum into her throat. Drinking it down before coming off him with a wet pop. “Did I you enjoy your treat princess?”

She nodded eagerly. Leaning into his hand when he stroked her face. “Good. Now you stay there.” Satoru moved this time to get behind her. His hands taking hold of her hips. Rubbing the dips where they curved out to her ass. God he loved that ass.

Still hard, and his princess wet from their foreplay, he easily lined himself up and thrust his way in. Groaning at the hot feel of her pussy enveloping him while she whined in a needy way at being filled by him. “Satoru....”

“Relax baby. I got you.” He pulled his hips back before thrusting in again. Loving the way her backside rippled at the first hard thrust. Soon it sounded like he was getting an applause.

Her ass & thighs slap against him as he fucked hard and fast into his lover. She moaned and whined into the mattress. Loving it, because she kept telling him how good it felt. He had to agree, and lifted his hand to smack her ass when it came down again.

“Ah! Satoru! More!”

“Oh? Does my princess like that?” He spanked her again, because of course he already knew the answer.

“Y-Yes! Harder!”

“You want it harder eh?” [Y/N] cried out loudly when he spanked her again. A red hand print blossoming on her round behind as she drooled into the mattress.

“Ah! K-Keep going. I’m gonna cum Daddy!”

Satoru smirked. She must really be fuck drunk now. She only called him ‘Daddy’ when her brain was fried from pleasure. “That’s it baby. Cum for Daddy.”

Almost instantly she did. Her whole body shaking as she came around his cock. The walls of her pussy convulsing around him. It doesn’t take long for him to follow, cumming for the second time, and collapse not far from beside her.

“That was great [Y/N]” Satoru complimented. Kneeling over to give her a kiss while they lay next to each other. “A great welcome home.”

“Yeah. But dinner is probably cold now.” She replied with a slight pout. Making Satoru smirk.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s still great. Your cooking is always the best.” It was his second favorite flavor. Next to her.

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar Lessons 18-20

Series Masterlist

T-the season finale… *sniffle* it’s been a wild ride y’all… I’ve never actually written and stuck through with something for so long, so this is a real achievement for me! I really hope you guys have enjoyed this completely weird fluffy/angsty/mildly crackhead adventure! Please enjoy the last part!

All is well, the family is back together, everyone’s fine, the school year is almost over-

Wait, the school year is almost over?

Upon realizing that, everyone settled into a state of mild panic.

MC couldn’t just leave, they were part of the family! An integral part! They were the only thing keeping everyone from murdering each other during family game night!

As for Lucifer’s personal feelings on the matter, things were… tough.

When the exchange program was announced, Lucifer expected it to end like most of Diavolo’s ideas: annoying to clean up, it certainly couldn’t have ended worse than when he and the Crown Prince ended up getting cursed to hold hands for 25 hours straight. What Lucifer didn’t expect was for a child he didn’t even know he had to end up as the human exchange student and for his entire life to be thrown out of whack. That child of his was busy finishing up their final paper of the year.

“Hey, father,” MC looked up from their paper with a cheeky smile. “Do you think that the next exchange student will be as fun as me?”

“I sincerely hope not.” Lucifer sighed, continuing to sift through his paperwork on his desk. “Your kind of ‘excitement’ has completely worn me out.”

“Aw,” MC giggled, then went back to work. “So you don’t want me to stay here then?”

Lucifer stiffened and looked up from his paperwork. “Don’t put words in my mouth, MC.”

“So you do want me to stay. Interesting~” MC said as they began to sweep the eraser shavings off their paper. “Well, if you want me to stay so badly, you could have just asked.”

“P-pardon?” Lucifer blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “You want to stay?”

“Since you’d be so sad without me, I guess I just have to don’t I?” MC stood suddenly and slapped their finished essay on Lucifer’s desk. “The sacrifices I make for this family, I swear!”

We stand with you, MC, sacrifice your sanity for your weird-ass familia.

Anyway, Lucifer was thrilled that MC wanted to stay with him in the Devildom, the problem was… MC’s other parent may not have been too keen to just give up their baby.

You know, the demon child they raised all by themselves, with no help from Lucifer because he didn’t know MC existed…

Someone get MC’s ren on the phone! Stat!

“Alright dear little brothers of mine, listen closely because I’m not repeating this.” Lucifer looked over the living room couches at the other six rulers of hell. Belphie was sprawled out on one of the couches and was drooling all over Beel’s lap, Satan was making a point to look as disinterested as possible and kept sneaking glances at the book he was holding, and Mammon was wrestling Levi dangerously close to where Asmo was filing his nails.

Sighing in defeat, Lucifer continued. If any of his brothers misbehaved he couldn’t say he didn’t warn them. “MC‘s parent will be coming to visit.”

Everyone’s attention snapped to Lucifer. Wonderful.

“They’ll be staying for a few days and will decide if it’s in MC’s best interest to primarily stay in the Devildom from now on.”

Asmodeus slowly raised a hand. “Luciiiiiiferrrr!”

“Asmo, is your question overly personal in nature?”

The Avatar of lust brought a manicured nail to his cheek and daintily tapped it. “Mmm… I don’t think so.”

“Ask.”

“How long were you and MC’s parent dating for? Won’t it be awkward to be around your ex?”

Lucifer dragged a gloved hand down his face. “It was a one night thing.”

“Really?” Asmo knitted his eyebrows in confusion. “It wasn’t a long drawn out forbidden romance? You must have had some Olympic swimmers down there!”

“Okay!” Lucifer clapped his hands. “Add that to the list of things Asmo is not allowed to say.”

“We have to take something off the list then…” Beel said through handfuls of chips. “The list’s full.”

“Fine,” Lucifer grumbled. “He can say [CENSORED] again.”

“Yippee! [CENSORED] [CENSORED] [CENSORED]”

The group collectively groaned as Asmo continued to spout his profane nonsense.

“What did I just walk in on..?” MC stood in the doorway to the living room, still in their PJs.

“Oh, MC, your parent’s coming over to stay for a few days.” Lucifer quickly explained.

MC’s face morphed from confusion to horror. “What does that have to do with [CENSORED]?!”

This house is a FUCKING NIGHTMARE-

Anyway, after the initial confusion/horror, MC got really excited and rushed off to get ready. Meanwhile, the boys solemnly swore that they would be on their best behaviour!

Everyone needed to convince MC’s parent that everything in the Devildom was perfectly safe and that their little hellspawn was in good responsible hands.

Mammon tried to come up with a plan in case MC wasn’t allowed to stay with them, and let’s just say it involved kidnapping. But like- a chill kind of kidnapping where MC would be totally fine.

This idea was immediately shot down in favour of Beel’s plan B.

Beel would just… eat MC’s parent. No biggie, right?

Lucifer shot that one down the moment he heard it.

The only accepted plan for if MC wasn’t allowed to stay was just letting them go. They’d visit the Devildom. A lot. Many visits would be necessary.

So, the hour of MC’s ren’s arrival had come, and the student council assembled to greet them.

Greet the human. The completely non magical human. Greet them and then let them see the Devildom…

Was this exchange program really that good of an idea..?

MC frantically attempted to do some last minute fixes to their hair as they sat themselves down in their seat in the Assembly Hall. Ugh… stupid hair…

“Why are you so nervous?” Satan asked. “Is our visitor a neat freak basket case?”

“No!” MC huffed. “They’re not! I’m just making myself presentable so they don’t think I’ve gone completely feral down here.”

“Well, feral no, crazy, yes. Have you seen yourself lately?” Belphie snickered.

“SHUT UP BELPHIE.”

“Would you all be quiet?” Lucifer snapped. “You’re all acting like children.”

“I am a child.” MC snapped back. “What’s Belphie’s excuse?”

Belphie’s retort was cut off by the portal opening and a figure leisurely floating to the ground. They had an open parasol in their right hand that seemed to be aiding their gentle descent, and a large container full of what smelled like cookies tucked into their left side. The moment their toes touched the floor, the human gracefully closed their parasol and gave the assembled demons a sparkling smile and a polite bow.

“Thank you for allowing me the honour to visit,” the human’s voice was as soft and sweet as Cotton candy. “It’s a pleasure to officially meet the princes of hell themselves.”

:D yay!

After floating down from the sky like Mary Poppins, MC lost all sense of propriety and ran over to tackle their ren into a hug. It was that kind of thing where you really miss someone but you don’t realize exactly how much until you get to see them again.

Lucifer was, of course, the picture of elegance and “this isn’t awkward at all”-ness.

MC’s parent didn’t even seem to be all that concerned with the fact that their baby daddy was, y'know, LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR. THE MOST POMPOUS FUCKWAD IN THE DEVILDOM.

Please don’t tell him I said that, he’s still mad about the Go Fund Me…

MC was absolutely ecstatic to finally show their parent how much they’ve grown in terms of their demonic powers and all the friends they had made, but MC’s ren was more concerned with how much they had grown in terms of their height.

“You’re just so tall now,” MC’s ren giggled as they fixed their child’s hair. “You’ll get things off of shelves for me, won’t you?”

“Yeah yeah,” MC said, rolling their eyes good naturedly. “Like you can’t reach anything in your kitchen.”

“Okay,” Mammon, Satan, Levi, Belphie, and Beel were lagging behind Lucifer, MC, their parent, and Diavolo. “Change of plans, we ain’t eatin’ ‘em, we’re keepin’ ‘em.”

“We were never going to eat them in the first place, idiot.” Satan sneered. “And what’s with the change of tune? You were ready to wage war on the human world fifteen minutes ago.”

“…cookies happened.” Mammon mumbled. He had only gotten one of the human’s totally amazing offerings before Beel proceeded to eat everything. The cookie was perfect… so delicious…

“I say we keep the human.” Beel put a hand on his stomach. “I want more human world cookies.”

“They’re so cute too…” Asmo cooed. “A solid 10/10, and that’s such a rare ranking coming from the only 20/10 in existence!”

“Asmo, your vanity never ceases to make me want to roll over and-” Belphie’s insult was interrupted by him passing out and letting out a cartoonishly loud snore. It was a good thing Beel was able to quickly catch and throw Belphie over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

“Asmo has a point, they’re just so totally moe! Kawaii to the highest degree! That parasol, the homemade cookies, it’s just like something from a slice of life anime!” Levi squee-ed.

“So it’s settled, we treat ‘em nice, then we get ‘em to stay.” Mammon nodded to the rest of his brothers, who for the first time in the Demon King knows how long, his little brothers nodded back in full seriousness. They were actually doing a Mammon plan! Holy shit!

So, the brothers liked MC’s ren, what about Diavolo and Barbatos?

Well, MC’s ren had heard all about Barbatos’ amazing cooking from MC and Barb’s totally outstanding reputation, so the two got along swimmingly.

Dia. Loved. That. Human. They’re cute???? They’re sweet???? They brought COOKIES???! They don’t seem to be afraid of him at all????? Please be the exchange student next year :D

Oh yeah… he made a rule that said they couldn’t summon someone with kids… it would be cruel to rip a parent away from their child…

But apparently not a child away from their parent cough cough

Other than the uncle squad, MC’s ren got to meet the Purgatory Hall gang too!

MC was being just the most adorable tour guide, but that didn’t stop Lucifer from having a miniature heart attack any time a demon even looked at MC’s parent the wrong way. If MC’s ren got attacked or felt threatened in any way shape or form, he could say bye bye to his time with the one person in the HOL that didn’t live to make him pop a forehead vein. The human seemed outwardly unconcerned with any Devildom oddness and was amicably chatting with Diavolo while MC pulled them from place to place.

“And that’s Hell’s Kitchen, they have good sandwiches, and that’s Madame Scream’s, they have really good macarons.” MC helpfully pointed out the places as they passed them.

A much to familiar trio of voices called out from down the street. Father dammit, why were they here..?

“Hello Lucifer, what are you all up too?” Ugh… Simeon…

“From the sight of the rest of your brothers skulking about, it appears like they’re acting as bodyguards.” Solomon…

“MC? Who’s that?”

Oh good grief… that nasally little voice… the chihuahua was near… Now… Lucifer was a respectable demon… respectable demons don’t tease children in front of the parent of their child…

“Hello chihuahua.”

DAMN IT HE COULDN’T HELP HIMSELF!

“I’m not a chihuahua you demon!” Luke yapped.

MC’s parent daintily tilted their head and looked over at MC. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

“Right, Luke, this is my ren, ren, this is a chihuahua.” MC grinned cheekily as they gestured between the two. Lucifer suppressed a laugh which resulted in a very ugly snort. It was a good thing the sound was drowned out by Luke’s exclamations of betrayal.

The chorus of “how could you?!”s and “I thought you were over that awful nickname!”s was put to an abrupt halt when the visiting human elegantly offered a handshake to the fuming angel.

“MC spoke very highly of you,” they chirped. “It’s very nice to meet you, Luke.”

Luke blinked a few times, then quickly straightened his posture, adjusted his hat, then shook MC’s ren’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“That’s Simeon.” MC jerked a thumb in Simeon’s direction. “And that’s Solomon.”

“Luke got a whole introduction and we get that? Come on MC, I thought we were friends.” Solomon fake pouted at MC after giving a polite nod to MC’s parent.

“We stopped being friends after one of the potions you had me test out turned me into a-” as quick as lighting, Mammon had shoved his hand into MC’s face.

“A-ah, MC’s rememberin’ stuff wrong, nothin’ potion related happened to ‘em. Right, Solomon???!”

Taking the hint from Mammon, Solomon smiled and nodded. “Nope, nothing related to turning MC into a frog for a few hours.”

“Hm, well I’m quite happy that absolutely nothing frog transformation related happened.” MC’s parent said.

“Yeah, must’ve hit their head on somethin- YEEEOW!” MC had bitten down on Mammon’s hand and slapped it away from them.

“I did not hit my head on anything!”

“Yeah,” Beel nodded. “Nothing’s hit them since the Fangol ball.”

“The what ball?” MC’s ren asked.

“The Fangol ball that hit MC a few months back and broke their glasses.” Five of the brothers slapped their hands to their foreheads.

“Oh my…”

“Eh,” MC patted their ren on the arm. “That’s nothing compared to the giant snake at the retreat.”

“Oh! Do you mind letting me tell that story, MC?”

Lucifer was frantically signalling for Diavolo to stop talking but the crown prince was already beginning his retelling of the events. Luke would chime in with an anecdote from an even worse misadventure the two had gone out on every once and a while. This… this wasn’t going well at all…

MC’s ren was… weirdly chill about the whole thing…

“Oh, it’s so nice that you’re having fun, sweetheart. That reminds me of when I was young and your aunt Clytemnestra and I would go out and have adventures.” “Really? You went on weird adventures too?” “…what kind of adventures could possibly compare to being chased by a giant snake in an underground labyrinth..?”

The side characters ended up needing to abscond for various reasons and all that was left was the brothers, MC, and MC’s parent.

They made it to the HOL without issue, which is when Lucifer remembered that he did not put all the cursed objects out of reach… shit.

“Asmo… Asmo!” “What is it?” “Take MC’s ren out of the house in half an hour, keep them occupied in the living room!” “What? Why?” “I need more time to human-proof the house! Distract them, but no funny business!” “Dear brother, for the first time in a very long time funny business is the second thing on my mind! Wait�� no, it’s the third… what have I become..?”

Asmo and Satan, super graciously by the way, led MC and their ren to the living room to distract- I mean entertain them for a bit!

Lucifer and the rest of the gang got to work moving certain things around and closing certain doors- shit where was Cerberus?! Did Lucifer forget to walk him that morning?!

So much to dooooooo…

So maybe bringing a human into Majolish and letting them roam around unsupervised wasn’t the best idea Satan and Asmo had, but it sure as heck was an idea. MC looked through shelves of hairpins and bracelets while their ren disappeared around a corner to look at scarves.

“We’re doing such a great job babysitting!” Asmo clapped his hands. “If MC had just been a normal human I bet they’d last the entire year under our care.”

“Hm, you might be right.” Satan smiled and nodded. “Humans are surprisingly entertaining.”

“Yes… speaking of, where exactly is the human?”

The sudden sound of metal slamming against flesh and the delayed sound of something incredibly heavy hitting the floor jolted Asmo and Satan from their conversation.

“Honestly, some people have no fucking manners!”

It was such a different voice than what Satan and Asmo were used to that the only thing that tipped them off to it being MC’s ren was the fact that MC began to giggle. MC’s ren stepped back into view carrying a metal staff that quickly transformed back to their parasol.

Asmo and Satan rushed over to check if their defenceless little human guest was okay, only to find some lesser demon passed out on the floor with an incredibly nasty bump on the side of their head.

“I’ve heard that humans are apparently quite delicious to demons but I didn’t expect someone to actually try and eat me.”

“I-um…” Satan sputtered, looking from Asmo to MC’s parent. “We’re uh…”

“You alright, ren?” MC called from over by the bracelet shelves.

“Yes, I’m alright.” MC’s ren gave the fourth and fifth born a calming smile. “No harm done, well, except to that poor bastard. I do hope I haven’t killed him… that would be such a nasty thing for the poor sales associates to find.”

Okay so maybe the defenceless human wasn’t so defenceless. That was a good thing… right?

“So where exactly did you manage to get your hands on such a weapon..?” “Ah, I come from a family of witches. This was a college graduation present.”

…doit doit seems legit.

The four made it back home just in time, Lucifer and the others had finished human proofing the house.

Yay!

The house tour went by smoothly, everything was all well and good until Beel and Belphie asked MC’s ren to make more cookies.

Oh god dammit the human said they would.

“Oh Beel, you shouldn’t eat the cookie dough raw… the eggs and raw flour will make you sick!” “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. Besides, it’s best not to interrupt Beel while he’s eating.” “Yeah it might end like the custard incident.” “Custard… incident?” “MC and Mammon ate my custard and I ended up breaking the wall that connected to MC’s room.” “Hunger tantrums, am I right?”

After that it was Mammon and Levi’s turn to babysit. It went about as well as you’d think.

Levi explained some anime plot in an attempt to make it seem like the Devildom was totally safe and that MC and their ren could stay forever no problem, while Mammon desperately suppressed the urge to swipe the cool parasol.

Finally, it was time for the verdict. Would MC be allowed to stay in the Devildom..? Or would they go back to the human world..?

“Lucifer?”

The demon in question looked up from his paperwork and tried to nod in the most casual way possible. MC’d ren was standing in the doorway, Lucifer must have missed their knock. “Yes? Do you need something?”

MC’s ren smiled and nodded. “It’s about MC’s living situation going forward.”

Lucifer stiffened and got up from his desk. “Y-yes… what about it?”

“MC has expressed that they want to stay here full time with frequent visits to the human world.” The softness that their voice had earlier in the day was completely absent as the human stepped forward into the study and closed the door behind them. “I want to know what you think about that.”

“Well,” Lucifer cleared his throat and tried to shake off the stupid sense of nervousness that had wrapped itself around him. A weak little human’s decision should not make him so anxious! “I would like for MC to stay here as well, I think it would be best for them.”

The human raised an eyebrow and twirled their parasol in their hand. “Really now? In your year with them you truly believe you know what’s best for them?”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. I do.”

MC’s ren went quiet for a few seconds before replying. “I see.”

“And that means..?”

“I knew this day would come, but I didn’t think it’d be so soon.” MC’s ren sighed, and for the first time all day, they actually let their exhaustion show. “I raised MC knowing that one day they’d end up in the Devildom. They’ve told me over and over again how much they like it down here…” the human took a deep breath and slowly shook their head. “If this is what they want… then I give my permission for them to stay with you.”

A wave of relief swept over Lucifer as he finally took a breath. “Thank you.”

“Mm… I’m going to have to use my favour though.”

The relief completely vanished as the Avatar of Pride’s blood ran cold. Memories flooded back from the one night the pair had spent together, the human had offered a cursed record to him that he had spent decades trying to find, in exchange, Lucifer let them have one favour. A favour from a demon was like a single pact order, Lucifer had to do literally anything this human wanted.

“Protect MC, even if it costs you your life.” The human’s words were careful and measured as Lucifer felt the order sink in. “You’ll do that for them, right Lucifer?”

Lucifer nodded as life flooded back into his limbs. “I would have done it without the order.”

So, the brother’s plan to make MC’s ren stay forever failed because they were going back to the human world with MC for summer vacation. Listen, it was needed, MC needed to see the sun lest they shrivel like a sad houseplant.

At least Lucifer technically had primary custody of his little heathen! Victory!

MC said their goodbyes to the friends they had made over the year as they prepared to leave for the next two months, it was filled with so many bone-crushing hugs that MC was surprised that their spine didn’t snap.

MC and Luke had lagged behind the much larger group as they made their way to the assembly hall. MC’s ren was dazzling the miniature crowd with stories of just how adorable MC was as a little kid. The half demon rolled their eyes and silently mourned the loss of any cool points they had gained over the year. Their little companion was oddly quiet, MC lightly nudged him and smiled.

“Aren’t you happy to be going home? You’ve been griping about being stuck down here the entire year. Don’t tell me you’re getting sappy, Luke.”

Luke puffed his cheek out and crossed his arms. “Of course I’m happy to be leaving, the Celestial Realm is the best place ever, the Devildom is completely terrible in every way.”

MC smirked and rolled their eyes again. Just let the little guy go on his rant…

“But… I am going to miss you…” Luke mumbled, MC’s eyebrows shot upwards as they turned their head to look at him. “Th-thanks for being my friend down here… MC. You’re… you’re really nice.”

To their absolute horror, MC felt a lump form in their throat. Oh dear Grandfather… the chihuahua was what broke them?! They quickly looked around to see if anyone was paying attention, then quickly pulled Luke into a hug. The hug was over as fast as it began, but it seemed that Luke didn’t particularly care and was more shocked at the sudden bout of affection.

“If anyone, and I mean anyone asks, I didn’t hug you.” MC murmured, quickly swiping at their eyes.

Luke nodded, a small smile spread across his face. “Got it!”

So the side characters left… *sniffle* everything’s okay… the DDDs work in any of the realms… they could still talk.

Soon, it was time for the final sets of goodbyes…

“Come on, Bean, we’re going to the human world!” MC tried to take the cat from Satan, who didn’t move a muscle.

“If you think you’re taking the cat from here, you’re delusional.” Satan’s smile didn’t leave his face, but the force behind his words was almost enough to make MC back off. Almost…

“My caaaaaat!” MC whined, they ended up getting lightly pushed away by Satan.

“Remember, the summer’s a good time to catch up on anime!” Levi advised. “There’s 24 hours in a day, and an average anime episode is 22 minutes long, you have loads of time!”

“I’ll keep up with my anime only if you promise to listen to the Death Note musical, Levi.” MC giggled and patted Levi on the shoulder.

“Remember MC, take care of your cuticles and your skin.” Asmo took MC’s hand and checked their fingernails. “They were an absolute mess before you got here, so I expect you to keep up your routines this summer!”

“Yeeeeeeeeeeees siiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrr.”

“Bye MC,” Beel handed MC a half opened cup of custard. “I almost ate it, but I didn’t. Make sure you don’t skip any meals this summer.

MC jumped up and gave Beel a quick hug. “Thanks Beel! I’ll be sure to enjoy the custard!”

“Bye, MC. See you next year.” Belphie stood awkwardly stiff, not exactly sure what to do. MC pursed their lips, then quickly wrapped him up in a hug.

“Bye Belphie, I hope all your pillow forts are structurally unsound.”

The avatar of sloth snickered and rested his head on MC’s. “I hope you get really comfortable and are fully ready to go to sleep, then realize you have to pee.”

MC gasped in fake offence and swatted Belphie on the arm.

Mammon put both his hands on MC’s shoulders, his face unusually serious. “Do ya remember what the great Mammon took painstakin’ effort to teach ya?”

“Payday loans are scams, witches are scary, bowline knots are the easiest to undo, don’t wear reflective sunglasses to a poker game aaaaaaaand…” MC grinned mischievously. “Any plan thought up by the Great Mammon should be subject to intense revision.”

“That’s ri- hey!” Mammon laughed and shoved MC towards Lucifer.

MC looked up at Lucifer, the pride demon looked down at them fondly. He reached out and gently ruffled their hair. “I’ll see you next year, MC.”

“Y-yeah…”

Lucifer crouched down slightly to get to their level and gave MC a smile. “I’m very proud of you, you’ve been an immense help this year. Thank you for everything.”

“Thanks for not being a stereotypical supervillain dad, father.” MC smiled softly and fixed their glasses. “Loveyoubye!”

MC turned and rushed to their ren’s side as Lucifer let out a soft chuckle.

“I love you too, MC.”

As Barbatos readied the portal to send the pair to the human world, MC couldn’t wipe the grin off their face. Geez, if this year was a metric mess of fun and insanity… what was the next year going to be like? The half demon’s grin morphed into a bit of a smirk. No way in hell their next year in the Devildom was going to be as insane as their first year.

MC almost giggled as they gave their family one last wave. That wasn’t the time to think about the future, besides, MC knew that it would take two insane chaotic humans to be summoned into the Devildom to even come close to the chaos MC managed to create, both on purpose and by accident.

And what were the odds of that happening?

——————

Authors Note: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ITS DONE SEASON ONE IS DONE!

I wasn’t able to fit the Anti Lucifer League stuff into this one, I’ll put it in a separate fic later!

I NOW NEED TO WORK ON GETTING THROUGH SEASON 2 IN THE ACTUAL GAME. To get mildly serious for a second, thanks to everyone who has stuck around to listen to me spout my fic-y nonsense, you all are nerds (affectionate) and I love you.

[tainbocuailnge]

fgo criticisms have been flaring up in the wake of dw’s sakura wars mobile game quitting after only half a year but I have a disease that makes me get defensive when people try to rip fgo apart as this uniquely terrible game with uniquely terrible devs so i’m going to complain about people who are complaining for a bit.

i hadn’t heard of the sakura wars game before it shut down but from what i’ve been able to find it suffered from a lot of the same problems as (launch) fgo, terrible gacha rates with no pity, slow ap recovery rates, barebones repetitive gameplay. so i guess seeing how fast sakura wars was shut down people feel like it’s only the fate name holding up fgo and in the early launch days of barely playable fgo that was definitely the case but I don’t think it’s fair to fgo to act like people only continue to play it because it’s fate, and “being like fgo” wasn’t the only problem with sakura wars either. sakura wars is a vn/dating sim series that attempted to revive the series with a mobile game that featured none of the original cast that fans cared about while fate was already a series with new characters and a new setting every instalment and the thing that stood out in this new game was actually that it DID have characters from previous fates available. hell, it’s not fair to sakura wars to claim that its series name is simply weaker than fate’s when there were other factors involved in its failure beyond “being a delightworks game”

fgo DOES improve, launch fgo is unrecognisable compared to current fgo in a good way. events have become more streamlined (events have mid- to lategame enemy hp scaling but feature damage ce’s to let newer players keep up, mission events are set up so that they basically clear themselves just by farming the most recently unlocked node), they experiment with new game modes and gameplay mechanics on the regular, they’re taking more care to make viable permanent servants and buff the older ones, and the past few months there’s also been a noticeable effort to throw out random banners for minor things as an excuse to rerun old limited servants more often. I’ll admit the bar is on the low side (strengthening quests are a ridiculous model, there shouldn’t be this many limiteds to need reruns in the first place, etc) and progress is slower than many people are willing to put up with, and I’m not saying anyone Has to put up with it or they’re a fake fan or whatever, but like, granblue fantasy is seven years old and still doesn’t have the ability to uncap a weapon multiple stages at a time when its entire gameplay loop centers around farming and uncapping weapons and they’ve buffed heles like 7 times but she’s still shit, none of fgo’s problems are exclusive to fgo.

i LIKE playing fgo. i like tapping the cards and watching my little guys go and coming up with different teams to make them go harder or just look good together or even lean into the Themes. and this is going a little bit on a tangent but i have this post window open anyway i was talking with friends earlier that one problem that a lot of mobile games seem to have is that they use “making the game play itself” as substitute for “making the game fun to play”. the only game with autobattle functionality (out of the ones I play, i don’t know everything that’s out there of course) that I feel DOESN’T do this is arknights, where you solve the puzzle that the stage presents in order to earn the right to not have to solve the puzzle every single time you play the stage and coming up with different efficient or perhaps ridiculous ways to solve the puzzle is part of playing the game. the worst case I know is dragalia lost which upon realizing that playing it sucks implemented an item to just let you skip playing stages altogether. “this game is good because you don’t have to play it” is not the selling point some people (and devs) think it is, and fgo refuses to fall into that trap - something I believe is an intentional decision because of their explicit refusal to implement NP skip.

one big advantage that fgo has over the other mobile games i’ve played is that it’s entirely turn based with no real time elements beyond start and end times of events. fgo doesn’t NEED to continue playing itself when you look away because looking away has no bearing whatsoever on your ability to clear the quest, fgo doesn’t give a shit if you look away for six hours and then close the game and only reopen it another ten hours later, you can continue right where you left off. the problem is not that you have to manually play the quest, because as far as the system is concerned you can take as much time as you like to clear that quest, it’s that the greater structure of the game wants you to repeatedly manually clear the same low-stakes quest for disproportionately small rewards. this one’s easy enough to solve by just increasing material droprates across the board. repeat clearing a low level quest is much less frustrating if you actually get drops every other clear.

but that’s a bandaid solution, because related to the issue of having to manually farm low-stakes quests is the lack of high-stakes quests to do when you want to do something a little more engaging than routine farming. outside of event challenge quests with their time limited availability, certain main story chapters that you can’t replay, and recently on JP the permanently available kiara challenge quest in the main interlude, there simply isn’t any difficult content to play. you could argue about fgo’s merit as strategy rpg in the first place i suppose but if you ask me it does have that merit and there is a clear effort from dw’s part to improve the depth of fgo’s strategy elements, the issue is that there is simply not that much content available to unleash those strategies on. of course you’re gonna get bored if all there is to do is either brainlessly repeat the same quest for minimal rewards or play the specific challenge quest that the game hands you right this moment regardless of whether that’s the kind of challenge you feel like facing right now. the solution to this one, although it’s likely going to take some significant effort on dw’s side to implement, is to make main story quests replayable.

you want to flex your brain muscles but there’s no challenge event right now? you stomped on a boss by using overpowered servants the first time but want to challenge yourself with some 3* this time? or the other way around, you beat a boss by the skin of your teeth the first time but want to stomp all over them now that you rolled some bitching 5*? you rolled a servant that’s not that suitable for day to day farming but would really shine in more difficult content and you want to try them out? you have a silly strategy in mind that would only work against certain story enemies? you’re like me and just really crave the shimosa duels? all of this involves content that already exists and is available in the game, dw would just have to figure out a way to let you access it again after clearing the chapter. and of course ideally this extends to event story quests once they’re added to the main interlude

i guess another way to put it is that i think the reason a lot of people say fgo has bad gameplay is not that its gameplay system is actually bad, in fact it has the potential to be very engaging, but rather that it’s a system that is set up to respect your time through the ability to put down the game absolutely whenever you want without being penalised, only for the game around it to go and penalise you for putting it down anyway. if you don’t diligently spend all your ap farming this quest you won’t get single damn material drop, and if you don’t play the event while it‘s happening you’re going to miss out because you can’t be sure when if ever it’ll return. so the number one way to solve the problem of fgo’s “bad gameplay” is not to make the game play itself whenever it tells you to play, but rather to make content more easily available so you don’t have to play if you don’t want to and CAN play if you do want to. thank you for coming to my ted talk i suppose

[raziroo]

Cotton Candy

Pairing: Lotor x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Saying "Shit" twice

Word count: 2,076 (yay) (also, I edited this, I still need to update the word count)

Author’s Note: I'm crap at writing dialogues, and this is my first time writing for a gay couple. I'm so sorry if it seems forced or unnatural or shitty. Don't be afraid to call me out.

Story Moodboard!

It’s with a grunt of effort that I manage to lift the carton containing the cotton-candy-maker.

‘Here, dad,’ I say as my dad takes the box from my hands. ‘That’s all?’

‘Yep, that’s all of it. We’ll conquer this carnival with our delicious cotton candy,’ I nod, doing jazz hands while saying the last part. Dad chuckles. I grin.

‘Hey, Honey!’ I turn back, squinting to spot where my other dad is in the crowd of bustling people. Where, where…? Yep, there he is – in his embarrassingly brilliant sunshine yellow and bottle green striped shirt and hot pink trousers, a sharp contrast to his natural bright red hair. Don’t say that it can’t look that bright; you’ll never know just how blindingly bright bottle green can really be until you see the shirt my dad’s wearing. And trust me, he usually dresses in simpler tones; such bland tones that you’d be surprised to know he was capable of wearing colourful hues as well. It’s only that he’s very passionate about his job, and so whenever we set up a booth in fetes such as the current one, he never misses to match the shop logo.

‘Hul-lo, father dearest, how seems to go your day?’

‘Oh, quite lovely, if I do say so.’

‘Well, that’s simply charming –’

‘Alright, enough,’ my other, not redhead dad snaps with an exasperated sort of smile on his visage. You see, my not redhead, a.k.a. brown-haired dad happens to be British. And that means that me and dad would rather paint our teeth blue than to not tease him. ‘You both need to shut it and start helping me with the decorations, now. You know I’m trash at all that.’

‘Aw, now don’t get discouraged,’ I say, patting dad on the back. ‘After all, not everyone can be as blessed as me, can they?’

‘Hey, why don’t you go look around for a bit? You’ve been helping out since before I have.’

‘Yeah, he’s right, pet. You should.’

I huff, rubbing my palms on the fabric of my jeans. ‘You guys sure? I’m not tired, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘We’re not worried, we’re just saying you should also get a look, you know? There’s a lot of surprising booths this time around. I mean, there are aliens participating too, so…’

‘Hmm,’ I play with my bottom lip a little, then, ‘yeah, okay. I’ll be back in like, an hour? Forty five minutes? Sound okay?’

‘Sounds great.’

‘Bye, then.’ And with that, I turn on the heels of my Converse, wandering about the pretty stalls and eager children and kissy couples and aliens with curious features.

It really feels bizarre, just how astonishingly fast mankind has accepted the existence of aliens. It seems simultaneously ages and just a day before when conspiracy theorists raged all around the world, presenting baseless theories and concepts as to why and how the three-man squad on the Kerberos mission disappeared. Then came the Galra, bringing along with them global terror – because alien life, intelligent alien life existed and humanity remained oblivious all these millennia, and now they were actually attacking us. It could’ve been, perhaps even was, in some other dimension, the end of Earth. But then a defender appeared; Voltron appeared in all its glory, bringing along with it proof that however much these purple aliens claim that humans are scum of the universe, humans were, in the grand scheme of things, the ones that saved the universe too.

It feels even more puzzling to actually be on a first-name basis with the leader of Voltron; that’s right, I’m personally acquainted with Keith Kogane. It was around six months after him leaving the Garrison did I come across him. He’d been loitering around the neighbourhood, had ended up in a fistfight with some other kids, and along with that a split lip and bruised cheek. I’d been watching. When the fight ended, I (somehow) persuaded him to come along so that I could at the very least provide him with a band-aid.

Long story short, we’d bonded over how our moms were no-shows and how dads were the best and we became surprisingly close friends; the only difference was that after the death of his old man, he lived alone. I’d been adopted by my two current fathers. I told him about how when they’d initially adopted me, I was excruciatingly shy. I wouldn’t even come out of my room except meals. It was only when I came to know that they knew how to make candy floss had I timidly approached them if I could have some, because previously I’d always been grossed out at the thought of having to eat that. I’d overheard this group of kids saying that cotton candy was actually just dyed granny hair, so that’s where that came from.

I love cotton candy now. So much so, that even at the age of twenty-six, I will pout if someone takes some of mine without my permission. As if I’d ever allow them to.

Speaking of Keith, I haven’t seen him in years. We lost all contact when he turned eighteen, and then he went off into space, and even when he came back, I didn’t get a chance to meet him. I bear no ill will, though. He must have formed some close relationships. Our past friendship is comparatively much more trivial.

I spot a booth selling grilled corn. I instantly head there.

As I’m about join the crowd of humans and aliens who also want corn, a familiar call of my name leads me to pull a three sixty.

Lo and behold. Keith Kogane.

Despite him having obviously grown a lot, the face was still the same. I’m sure that, if he gets a split lip and bruise on his cheek right now, he won’t look all that different.

There’s a questioning hesitance on his features; he’s probably wondering if he’s got the right person. My pleasantly surprised smile and raised eyebrows assure him. As I step away from the grilled corn stall, I notice a motley crowd behind him; some are purple, some are holding Voltron plushies, and some look way too curious to be in a carnival. The introduction is going to be fun.

‘Keith! You're gonna live a hundred years - I was just thinking about you. But anyways, it’s – it’s great to see you,’ I say with a little giggle. ‘Though I am kind of surprised you actually approached me. The sixteen-year-old you would never.’

He smiles awkwardly in return. ‘Y – yeah… I, just… oh God, this is – I’m sorry,’ he says, his inner turmoil evident.

‘It’s all good. I know you’re shit at small talk, so… like, introduce me? Maybe?’

He nods rapidly, brows furrowed. ‘Yeah, um,’ he turns to the people behind him, telling them my name, how we met, the whole affair. I give them a wave. Most of them greet me back.

‘And, this is Shiro and Curtis,’ he points to the tall, white-haired yet young man, holding hands with a tanner guy, ‘Lance, Pidge and Hunk,’ he points to a lanky, bright-smiled guy, a buffer, kind-seeming person, and a short chestnut-haired woman who, despite wearing baggy jeans and a baggier tee, looks somehow better dressed than me. ‘Then that’s Allura, Coran, and Romelle, they’re Alteans,’ a woman with enchanting beauty and a regal aura surrounding her, a redhead who’s significantly older than the rest with an impressive moustache, and a youthful appearing girl with a big grin, ‘and Lotor, he’s Galran. The Galran Emperor, in fact.’ Lotor is a tall, lilac-skinned man with aristocratic features who shares the same cheek markings as the Alteans. Oh, and he’s unfairly gorgeous, his hair a luscious mane of white which I just know will be soft. It’s hard not to stare. You remember how I said Allura looked like royalty? Yeah, the way this man carries himself, he has the aura and visage of a God. Even in a white tee-shirt and jeans he looks way better than should be legal.

I rip my eyes away.

‘So…are Noah and Oliver here too? I’d love to see them. I mean, I never did get to thank them to permit a possible criminal to sleep in their house.’

I laugh. ‘Never mind that, but we actually sit up a stall here. I could, you know, maybe even get you guys something to eat.’

‘Free? Please don’t.’

‘It’s nothing, really, just… I don’t know, accept it as a small thank you present for not letting the planet go to shit.’

A bit of thinking. Even after a nod from Shiro, it was Lance who said yes. Good ol’ Keith.

When we reach the stall, my British dad is the only one we find there. He looks up, about to say something to me, when he notices Keith.

‘Dad. You remember Keith?’

‘Your possible criminal friend who turned out to be the saviour of the universe Keith?’

‘That Keith. He wanted to see you.’

‘Oh? Well then,’ he dusts his hands, stands up, and greets Keith. Both of them engage in a conversation.

‘You guys wanna try something?’

‘What do you got?’ asks Pidge.

‘What do we got? Um, we got chocolates, candy, marshmallows, jellybeans, tortilla chips, ice cream, popcorn – butter, cheese, caramel, peri peri – Lays, like, a lot of Lays, and the good old cotton candy. What d’you want?’

So, after providing the humans with two Cream n’ Onion Lays, a pack of tortilla chips, a double scoop of butterscotch and chocolate, a small tub of popcorn, and three cotton candy sticks, I turned to the aliens.

‘I’m assuming you guys aren’t familiar with a lot of this stuff, so you could either pick whatever looks to be good, ask your friends, or I could recommend something. What’ll it be?’

Romelle was the one who asked, ‘What’s ice cream like?’

‘It’s sweet. It’s cold. And it’s like… heaven in mouth.’

‘Ooh. I want an ice cream. The… pink one?’

‘That’s strawberry. You can eat it in a cone, or in a cup.

‘What’s the difference?’

‘Well, the cup you can’t eat. The cone is like a crispy biscuit,’ judging by her face, she didn’t know what biscuit was. ‘I’ll just give you a cone. It’s all on the house, so no worries if you don’t like it.’

I watched eagerly as she licked the ice cream. An unreadable look crossed her face. Then – ‘This is almost as good as Hunk’s cookies!’

‘Really?’ Coran asked, twirling his moustache. ‘Well, then…’ he squinted to read the names of the various flavours. ‘I would like “cookies and cream”. Yes.’ A cone of cookies n’ cream was served.

‘Allura?’

‘Do you have something that isn’t sweet?’ That was a plot twist. I’d have taken her as someone who appreciated sweeter foods.

‘We do. You want spicy?’

‘…Sure.’ Peri Peri popcorn was given and enjoyed.

And last… ‘Lotor. What would you like to have?’

It takes me a lot of will to not laugh at Lotor’s way too analytical expression. ‘What would you recommend?’

‘Me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Out of all this stuff, candy floss is my favourite.’

‘Candy floss… the item that looks simultaneously like a cloud and an old woman’s hair?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I would like a helping of candy floss, then.’

As I hand Lotor a stick of cotton candy, I wait with anticipation for his reaction.

‘How am I supposed to eat this?’

It takes me a moment to process that. ‘Uh, you just… pinch a little of the stuff in between your fingers, then eat it. Or you could just, um, go in directly, which I’m thinking isn’t really your style.’

He narrows his eyes, but follows my instructions nonetheless. Only a second after putting the stuff in his mouth, Lotor purrs.

Everyone around him, being me, Coran and Romelle (Allura’s off telling Lance how great Earth food is), looks with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Lotor appears as if he’s just died inside. The berry-shaded blush on his face is adorable, though.

'I didn't, like, poison you or something, right?'

'No. It's that... I would never in my lifetimes have expected something so tooth-rottingly sweet to be this delicious.'

'So you're okay?'

‘Yes. In fact, I quite like… this cotton candy.’

I grin.

[jasontoddssoulmate]

I made an account for the sole purpose of this TUA fic concept

I’m a sucker for those “the characters read the books/watch the series” fics and I’ve read a little for TUA but I just had the idea:

The Hargreeves kids watching the two seasons but instead of just the seven of them, their birth mothers are brought in to watch as well

Maybe have the birth mothers family (if they have any) watch it with them 

This happens before everything. Before Ben’s death, before Five’s disappearance, before they even have their names. The kids, One through Seven, are brought in. Maybe when they’re old enough to get the gist of what’s going on, but before they’re 13.

These 6 young women are brought in (because I adore that Luther and Five being twins is canon in the comics and I love the mention of it), and they’re confused because maybe The Umbrella Academy isn’t internationally well known so the kids are familiar but they can’t put the name to the face. Not until they introduce themselves, anyways, and suddenly they’re face to face with the baby that they gave away years ago.

Maybe a few of them regret it, maybe they tried to forget it, maybe they spend so much of their time thinking about it or maybe they’re overjoyed that their baby seems to be doing so well. 

But their names. 

There’s just so much about them that doesn’t feel,,, so right? Maybe that’s not the word for it but they’re too polite sometimes, their casually cruel treatment towards their sister isn’t normal and the way that they simultaneously act entitled and inferior towards each other isn’t suppose to be as normal as the kids make it out to be. 

All in all, the women are confused and maybe a bit wary of their casual usage of powers among each other that’s normal to the siblings as much as it is abnormal to the birth mothers. 

But communication is easy since each child learned their own mother language as well as the language of their siblings birth place and then some which only seems to remind the women that holy shit these kids are technically rich because of their father

The Hargreeves though? They’re confused and wary as hell. They may not have been introduced as The Inaugural Class of The Umbrella Academy yet (or maybe they have considering what your timeline is) but they’ve been training for most of their life and the situation is baffling. Here are these random people that they’ve never met before (at least to their knowledge) and they’ve never had to go outside to interact with others, not really at least. 

So it makes sense that they go for polite but threatening. They maybe decide unanimously that the weaker willed ones like Four, Six and Seven are discreetly protected behind their older (in spirit) siblings, One, Two, Three and Five. 

But they’re no real threat, its obvious in the way that the Hispanic woman uses such an endearing term like “mijo/a” and the way that the Russian woman has an ever present smile on her face and such a sweet disposition that reminds them of their littlest sibling and hey her eyes look just like Seven 

So after a while, they’re more open to being relaxed. Not Five though, he’s always been just a little paranoid and being a 58-year-old in a 13-year-old body never had anything to do with it. So he’s got a harsh personality but the Danish woman doesn’t seem to be deterred. He kind of reminds her of her older twin brother who acts so harshly, but who she knows loves her so much.  

So here are 7 siblings and 6 women and maybe family that was there for the women when they needed them the most. And maybe the person(s) behind this decide to be kept anonymous but they oh so want the children to get to know what being cared for is like. Maybe these women get to know the consequences of their actions or the children learn that the one who birthed them had their reasons. And it’s no excuse but it’s also not their fault. Both parties should be able to feel what they feel because it’s a complicated and maybe painful situation. 

The children lose their respect for their father every episode. Even One, who they all know cherished the favoritism but it doesn’t get in the way of his horror when he finds out that he used to lock Four in the mausoleum, still does if the flashbacks are anything to go by because not Four, not the kindest and brightest of their siblings. 

And when they learn of Seven’s powers and the reason why they are never present, they are understandably upset. They feel rage and disbelief that she had such a crucial part of herself ripped away at such a young age, because they know that their powers are like another limb. They’re born with it and they grow up with it and they were able to live their life with it so they feel rage. Rage that Seven had been so violated. Rage that the Seven they know isn’t really the Seven she was suppose to grow up to be. The Seven they knew as toddlers was sweet towards them but had a mean protective streak a mile wide that could never be controlled, not even by their father. The Seven they know now is so meek and desperate for attention. The Russian woman looks the most devastated as she thinks of the baby girl she got to hold for only a few hours before she was whisked away by a rich old man who is turning out to be the monster that one often hears about in television. 

But the women? They watch as the children in front of them, maybe a little damaged and emotionally constipated but so obviously protective and caring for each other, grow to be the grow ups in the screen above them that grow up and grow apart after so much tragedy. 

They watch as seven eventually becomes five. 

How Luther is sent to isolation for years and he goes along with it in a bid to continue to please their father.

How Diego continues to rebel because he wasn’t able to growing up but also maybe because he wants to spite his father, no matter how much he protests that he could care less what his father thinks.

How Allison goes through a divorce and loses her parental rights to even see her daughter due to her dependence of her powers that leaves her devastated. 

How Klaus is an addict who desperately wishes to get rid of the ghosts that have followed him all his life. 

How Five disappears only a little while after their current timeline.

How Ben was brutally killed by his own powers, never getting to grow up and become his own person. 

How Vanya can’t seem to do anything but go through the motions of her life, maybe having a little hope that she’ll be seen this time around, but is quickly squashed from Diego’s disparaging comments and the casual dismissal of her from her living siblings. 

They watch all this, and feel sadness and rightful anger that their babies lead the life of ex-child superheroes. The life of abused children. The life of children who had only each other. 

But was it really enough? Was it enough to know that they loved each other but had a hard time showing it and owning up to it due to fear of their father? Due to the constant comparisons and the way Sir Reginald had them turn on each other. 

But they knew it was enough. They see it in how Diego waits for Klaus to drive him around even after he had expresses annoyance beforehand, in the joy on Allison’s face when she sees Klaus again after so long, in how Five makes sure to check up on Klaus after his kidnapping, on Luther’s face when he apologizes to Vanya after realizing his own misgivings, in Ben’s task of continuing to follow his brother around even when it pains him and in Klaus trying to comfort Luther after he finds the unopened correspondents. They see it in the support they show Vanya as she goes to check on Harlan.

It had to be enough to know that after all they went through, they still care for one another and at the end of the day, would protect one another just as they were as One through Seven. 

So they watch what would be the Hargreeve’s kids misadventures, they watch as they grow together and grow apart just to grow together again, much stronger than before. 

They express sadness and disbelief when they see where Five ends up, they get mad when Leonard throws Vanya’s pills away, they grieve when they learn that Ben is dead, they’re embarrassed but find it hilarious whenever Klaus cracks an inappropriate joke, they become protective when there’s allusion to Vanya having sex, and are rightfully ready to throw down with Leonard as they watch their littlest sibling get gaslit into believing her family hates her as he nitpicks all of her interactions with her family. 

But just as they express their feelings over what happens to their family, they feel an immense amount of exasperation towards their older selves because so much could be fixed if they only talked to each other. 

They watch and despair over the missed opportunity that is Leonard in the same house as them just as they find out what his role is in the apocalypse.

Four tears up as he watched Klaus and Dave’s reunion be undone after all the heartache. 

Seven cringes when Vanya dismisses Five’s claims that he had been stuck in an apocalyptic wasteland and suggests that he’s gone crazy after his stint with time travel. 

Three feels her heart drop to her stomach as the flashback shows what becomes the moment that she faces the hard truth that come with her use of her powers.

Five feels himself flush in embarrassment as he watched two version of himself in the future, one that looks not much older than he does currently, go through paradox psychosis. 

Six feels frustration and a fierce grief that leaves him confused because he’s still alive he’s not dead, but I don’t have much longer. 

One feels horror as he watches himself hurt his siblings one after the other with a sense of helplessness because this isn’t me, I wouldn’t do this but I already did, why would I hurt my siblings, I’m Number One I have to be the one who protects them- 

The women, on the other hand, see themselves in their children. 

The French woman sees how her daughter and granddaughter, it seems, both look like a carbon copy of herself and her own mother. 

The Danish woman sees herself and her twin brother in Luther and Five. Sees her own personality reflected in Luther and her brothers personality in Five. Sees how her twins care just as much for each other and their siblings as herself and her brother do each other.

The Hispanic woman sees Diego’s fierce sense of justice that leaves others in the dust, and sees herself as she fought to keep her boy but ultimately lost him just as Diego loses Eudora. She thinks to herself like mother like son and bitterly laughs to herself but she’s so grateful that Diego had a mother who cared for him just as she cared for him because she often though about him and always made sure to commemorate his birthday. 

The German woman can’t help but see herself in her boy. Can’t help but see her little brother in him. Can’t help but see her older brother in him. Because Klaus is so joyful but he hides his pain behind a mask like her younger brother, he’s so loving towards his siblings like her older brother, and so nonsensical like herself. So like herself, down to the curly hair and the addiction. Even if she was able to overcome it with support from her family, it pains her and leaves her in despair to see Klaus and can’t find fault in those he had around him because she sees how much they try and sees how hard the Hargreeves find expressing emotion is to others. 

The Asian woman sees how sweet and shy her youngest is and thinks only of her oldest, who reminds her so much of him and can only despair in seeing that he didn’t live as long as her oldest had. She can only ask herself why her children don’t seem to be able to see themselves to adulthood but can only be grateful that even in death he has someone with him.

The Russian woman knows that her husband sees her in little number Seven, in Vanya, no matter how little that is. Maybe their personalities aren’t so similar because Seven is shy but she’s got the sweetest heart and so clearly loves her siblings. She has the same smile that she has and her little doe eyes remind her of herself when she was younger. She’s so small next to her siblings, just like herself. 

So they see themselves in these kids, these grown ups. But so do the Hargreeves. 

They see how Luther looks like what the Danish woman would look like as a man and how Five looks exactly like a younger version of the Danish man who introduced himself as the woman's older brother. 

They see how Two has the same skin tone and facial structure as the Hispanic woman. 

They see that Allison looks exactly like the French woman and see the same in Claire. 

They see Four’s curly hair and slim build in the German woman. 

They notice how Six shares the same dark hair and lower facial features. 

They see Seven’s eyes and smile and short stature in the Russian woman. 

So maybe they don’t know them well enough to see what the women see, but they grow to see it overtime because they spend so much time there, in this suspended room in time.

The women insist on getting to know them and vice versa. They insist that they have to talk about their feelings and assure them or gently scold them, depending on the reason, for what they feel because god do these children need to learn how to talk more about their emotions in a healthy way.

They get closer to the children and start to really see their childish side. They all fight over the silliest things, and become pouty when attention isn’t being drawn over to them. They crave physical affection, even Five who won’t admit that his maternal uncle patting him and One of the head made him feel all gooey inside. They make faces towards foods that they don’t like and still prefer junk food over real food. 

So maybe it’s harder to let themselves act like children because they’re being conditioned to not “be childish” but even then they have their lapses in control. Four enters a state of panic after being reminded of his time in the mausoleum. One feels overwhelming guilt when he sees how Luther hurts Klaus and reminds himself that he’s the one that needs to protect them, as the leader and self proclaimed older sibling. Five feels himself cry for the first time in a long while when he sees how his siblings act towards him in the future and realize it hurts him deeply because he knows that he’s messed up their lives a lot but can’t they see that he only want to keep them alive, he doesn’t want to see them die again, he can’t-

But instead of being shamed into controlling their emotions, they are comforted and reassured. Four’s birth mother helps ground him and counts his breathing with him to keep him from falling further into his panic. One get’s reassured by his birth mother that his future self isn’t his current self. That everyone in the room has seen just how much he cares for his siblings and knows he would do anything for them. The twins uncle gives into his urge and hugs Five, whispering in a hushed tone that it’s okay to cry, to let it all out. He whispers that his older siblings are being idiots and if they knew just how much their actions were hurting you, they wouldn’t hesitate to apologize and hug you too. His words only make Five cry harder. 

So they are cared for and allowed to be themselves fully and can be childish to their hearts content. And their birth families watch on in amazement and adoration. 

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

I have so much more that I’ll probably add later, but basically I want them to be cared for, allowed to care for each other and learn to express themselves better. I want to see them get to have a good relationship with an adult and if possible their birth mothers. 

Pls share links and stuff if you get inspired, I’m not much for writing fanfic but I really do want to see something like this. I’d read the shit out of it. I have so much more that I want to add but I’ll probably do something about it later. 

[wakeupflawless]

#7 and #11 please. Bring on the angst.

College Brio!!!!!!!!!!

They go through the same line at security. Rio’s flight isn’t for another four hours, but he came with her anyway.

The day had been a blur of packing, moving and driving, she had so much on her to-do list she was able to force herself to forget that they’d be separating by the end of it all. But now - as she toes off her shoes to step through the x-ray machine, holding her hands up and feeling silly - the reality of the situation crashes down around her. She barely hears the TSA agent saying “please step out for me.”

Beth watches Rio go through next with that casual confidence of his. The TSA lady, who’d grumbled and groaned at every other passenger, actually smiled at him and called him “sugar.”

And she’s not jealous of a middle aged TSA worker. She’s not crazy. But she knows in Los Angeles there will be hundreds, if not thousands, of much younger, much prettier girls calling him pet names. It’s LA. The land of models and celebrities and the rich and famous. Her name would be lost to him, especially once he starts playing for the Dodgers, because every girl wants a hot baseball player, and…

“You good?” Rio asks, eyeing her knowingly as he grabs their carry-ons off the conveyor belt. Beth blushes, she’d let their bags just sit there as she stared off into the distance.

“Yeah,” she chirps, snatching her converse and lacing them up around her feet. “Let’s find my gate?”

Rio rolls their luggage toward Gate A. Her plane hasn’t even arrived yet, that’s how early she is, but better safe than sorry, right?

It seems like just yesterday Rio had plopped his lanky frame down next to her in their English 15 class - the class every freshman has to take - even though there were several empty seats around her.

“This seat taken?” he’d asked with a knowing grin, not even waiting for her to respond, just grabbing his laptop out of his backpack and setting up camp at the small desk.

She bitched and moaned about “that annoying asshole who insists on sitting next to me!” almost every day to her roommate. Until one day, about a month into the semester, Ruby cut her off with a huff. “I swear to God, Beth. If you don’t just fuck this dude out of your system....”

And well, Ruby is a wise woman. That’s all Beth has to say about that. Because a week later Beth and Rio were banging like bunnies on every surface of their respective dorm rooms. And the library. And classrooms. Even in an (empty) 300 person lecture hall. Right in front of the giant projector.

They were inseparable the past four years. English was the last class they’d shared together, because of their wildly different majors (Rio in business and Beth in fashion) And Beth had her fair share of Student Council duties, while Rio was the star center fielder for the school baseball team. But they always made time for each other. Sometimes Beth would sit in the bleachers and watch his practices as she sketched out some designs. Sometimes Rio would attend a “student body” meeting just so he could watch Beth command the stage.

But college ended in the blink of an eye. And Rio had been drafted by the Dodgers (the freakin’ Dodgers) and Beth scored an entry level designer job at Tory Burch in New York. She’d probably spend most of her time getting coffees for higher-ups than actually designing, but it was a start.

So here they are. Sitting at Gate A in the Detroit Airport. The clock ticking on her flight to JFK. After all those years together they’d never been at a loss for words. Always found something to talk, discuss or argue about. But they’re silent now. Sitting in the uncomfortable blue chairs, Rio’s arms slung around her shoulder.

They watched a movie on Rio’s iPad, laughing at the funny moments, frowning at the sad. But neither really paid attention.

At boarding time Beth stands up, rolling her shoulders back, double- checking her ticket for the millionth time. She won’t cry she won’t cry she won’t cry -

“Hey. This isn’t goodbye.” Rio says, the water works begin.

She sobs into his chest all the way til they call Group 9 - her group - and Rio has to usher her to the counter. The American Airlines agent gives them a sympathetic smile, scanning Beth’s ticket.

She’s the last to board the flight, the doors closing right behind her. She presses her face against the small airplane window, tears rolling down her cheeks. She listens to their song over and over on repeat. Tennessee Whiskey. It’s cliche. It’s every couple’s favorite song. But she doesn’t care.

When she touches down in New York the tears have stopped. She texts Rio when she lands, but it doesn’t go through, he’s on his own flight. But he’d sent her a message.

About to take off. Love you always.

---Two Years Later---

There’s a knock at her door. Beth groans. It’s eight in the morning. On a Saturday. She flips over, burying her head in her pillow.

The knocking persists.

She groans. Flinging her covers off and marching the six steps it takes to get from her bed to her front door (studio apartments are just the best) Whoever’s on the other side of the door is about to get an eyeful, because she’s wearing a thin cami and tiny sleep shorts. Her apartment’s AC just keeps dying, and summer in the city is hot.

She doesn’t even check the peephole, just rips the door open with a huff.

It’s Rio.

Her annoyance evaporates and the remnants of sleep clear from her eyes. She squeals, positively flinging herself into his arms. He laughs, catching her easily.

“What are you doing here?!”

“You always answer the door dressed like this?” he asks with a playful raise of an eyebrow, pretending to look all concerned.

She giggles, pressing her lips to his in a flurry of kisses. Their next visit wasn’t supposed to be for another three months.

“I got you a present. Had to deliver it in person.” Rio says, carrying her inside the apartment.

He sets her down, slinging the backpack off his shoulder and grabbing something within. Beth watches him with a stupid grin, still recovering from the shock of seeing him.

He pulls out a baseball hat.

A Yankees cap.

“What- what’s this?” she asks, her mind not catching up.

But then he smiles, slow and big. And Beth realizes.

“No way. No way. The Yankees?”

“I’ve been traded.” he informs her. “It ain’t official yet, but the paperwork is done.”

Beth screams. Neighbors be damned. She tackles him onto the bed, pressing kisses all over his face. Soon tears are leaking down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry.” Rio thumbs away the wetness on her cheeks.

Later, Rio shows her his new contract. Beth stares at his phone, jaw dropped.

“That’s… that’s a lot of zeroes.” she stutters.

Rio grins. “I ran to LAX as soon as the deal went through. Had to tell you in person.” He looks around her tiny apartment. “Start boxin’ up your staff, mami. Time to get a bigger place.”

“Together,” she whispers.

He nods. “Together.”