#god. god. what a game i hope i can keep my backup alive so much longer bc the Rush i felt when trying to strategize every move was so good

[boypussydilf]

I M,EANT TO SEND YOU AN ASK LAST NIGHTBUT I FELL ASLEEP. AND THEN I WAS GONNA SEND YOU ONE EARLIER BUT THEN I HAD TO GO DO SOMETHING AND FORGOT. I CAN FINALLY FREAKING SEND YOU ONE BUT YOURE IN POST LIMIT HELL SO I GUESS YOU CAN ANSWER THIS LATER BUT TELL ME ABOUT THE BLUE FROG FREAK. DORORO? I DONT HAVE THEIR NAMES DOWN YET. THE DAD ONE

IT HAPPENS. i live *covered in blood* I love Lance Corporal Dororo. Everyday I wake up in a dream that never ends because of my undying love for him. If that’s a problem for you, then you can go to hell. I LOVE Dororo.

hope none of that is too hard to read i had uh, Thoughts. thinking about it this dude is probably like… THE. ultimate favorite character. of all time. he fundamentally altered my brain chemistry and i would do anything in the world for him.

so like, dororos family is super rich. thats literally why he n keroro became friends in the first place, bc they went to the same Military Prep Elementary School and one time keroro went to dororos house and saw that his family was LOADED and that he had all the COOL toys so he immediately went WERE FRIENDS RIGHT? so he could hang out w dororo to play w the cool toys. and dororo had had very few friends in his life before that so he went Yeah of course! and then spent his entire childhood doing pretty much whatever keroro asked so they would stay friends. but anyway, i don’t think his family being rich counts for anything at present, since he’s on earth, and i dont know if he like… has. any money. that is viable on earth. he must get some money somehow since he & koyuki like, have a house and are alive? but she doesn’t seem to have like, a job or anything, and i doubt he steals from the invasion budget so like. i dont know where the money comes from and there can’t be very much of it.

ALSO I OOVE THAT THE BLORBO BLINGUS ASK GAME LETS ME THINK ABT CHARACTERS PLAYING MINECRAFT. I know dororo canonically knows how to use a computer bc i just rewatched the episode where the platoon tries to make their own anime today and he uses a computer to do the coloring digitally but like. Dororo does not know how to use a computer. He first learned about stuff on earth from koyuki who spent half her life in a completely isolated village and only got out after she met him and he hasn’t branched out much since. I don’t know if we ever see him play video games or anything like that. I don’t think he would know how to do that. I think the tiny crappy radio he & koyuki have is the most technology hes comfortable with. “i don’t really like using these computers they freak me out” “Dororo you’re from a society with technology way more advanced than this. which you use.” “yeah well this is different”

Anyhow point is i want to see the keroro platoon play minecraft. Dororo keeps trying to build peaceful little houses with nice farms and they keep getting accidentally blown up or burnt down by everyone else. Tamama is in the caves trying to befriend slimes and when he finds out he can’t he just starts killing them en mass. Everyone goes to check out what Kururu is doing and he’s made one of those fully functional redstone computers, for fun.

ALSO ID ALWAYS CALLED DORORO KOYUKIS DAD BUT I NEVER REALLY REALIZED WOW HE LEGIT DOES ACT LIKE IT HUH. hi welcome home how do you like your new school :) its so sweet… i bet he has like 3 backup plans for attempting to homeschool her if anything happens that keeps her from going to public school. i bet they make lunches together. god, this is sweet, but also really funny to imagine, because he is less than 2 feet tall, and round. i watched an episode today that starts w koyuki coming home and dororo is just on the ground loudly sobbing and shes like oh did you fight with your friends again? and then thinking about friends makes her flashback to her childhood best friend & when she met dororo So Hard that she just falls asleep. while hes still there on the floor loudly crying about how he wonders if keroro even considers him a friend. theyre so funny

ok i guess thats all thanks for coming to my dororo talk <3 This post is so long. Tee hee!

[chilltouch]

god. I haven't had too many emotions last night when Troy died bc I was just in a state of shock, and also wild euphoria about being permadead first And in session 1 but, man. I'm upset that she died

[sdr2lovemail]

I just noticed that you are alive again! So um.. I've been thinking for QUITE a while of a relationship Ultimate Impostor x Ultimate Leader (in the killing game ig?), idk why. If the requests are closed feel free to ignore this. Thank you!

You could say that I am a fan of Imposter's work. Even tho there is not a lot of content about them out there I still love them dearly.

And yes I died for a minute but have risen from the grave to continue my writing career. I hope you enjoy what I have written my friend because I absolutely love it.

⚔Mod Peko⚔

Spoilers for chapter 1

The Ultimate Imposter disguised as Byakuya Togami and the Ultimate Leader butt heads but also kinda wanna kiss each other

Teenagers and a killing game are bound to fall into chaos. Teenagers, a killing game, and no supervision will cause more chaos. That’s why they need a leader. Someone strong and brave to guide them. However two ultimates wanting to be that leader, teenagers, a killing game, and no supervision will cause even more chaos.

Breakfast was a usually calm time. Everyone just wanted to eat and get on with finding a way off this forced school trip. However there were some mornings where everyone seemed to be full of energy. Akane and Nekomaru were engaged in a fierce 1v1 training session. Chairs, tables, and food flying throughout the air from the power of their moves. The restaurant was in total disarray and with your talent of being a leader you must do something to calm the crowd. Standing up you set your arms behind your back and call out to your classmates.

“Everyone! This is-”

“Sit down, common folk. You will all cease this foolish behavior and stop wasting food.”

“Huh?”

At the mention of wasting food Akane quickly stops her fighting. She then pulls up a table and chair from the mess of the restaurant and begins to chow down. You look at where the voice came from and see Twogami sitting at a table with a plate. Just because this guy is loaded he thinks he can be a better leader than you? Oh you will just have a quick word with him to set the record straight. With quick strides you tap him on the shoulder giving him your best stern look. This look helped you strike the feeling of order into people. But Twogami doesn’t look impressed at all?! No you can’t let him see you falter. Standing up straighter than ever you begin to speak.

‘Hey what’s the big idea? I’m the Ultimate leader. I don’t need your help guiding our class.” You told him with a grim expression. Twogami gave you a look over before setting down his fork. He wipes his mouth off with a napkin before standing to face you. His intimidation factor was off the charts. Can money buy such a scary aura?! After adjusting his glasses he begins to speak with a sigh.

“Listen I, Byakuya Twogami, am much better suited to be in charge. You may have your impeccable wits and title but that is nothing compared to being next in the Togami line. Now are we done here? I would like to finish my food”

Not even giving you a chance to respond he goes right back to eating. Even with your ultimate status this guy intimidates you a lot. But you will not be backing down. He thinks he’s so high and mighty you’ll show him high and mighty.

The days feel like they’re getting heavier. Monokuma’s annoying voice rings in your ears. There’s no way you’d believe that memory loss garbage….And even if you did, you had to stay strong for everyone. Twogami’s party did nothing to calm the tense feeling in the air. You decided you were going to check this abandoned building from top to bottom before anyone steps foot inside.

You do not see Nagito when you first step in. Maybe he’s cleaning somewhere else. Teruteru was said to be in the kitchen. Entering the main room of the building you see Twogami rifling through what looks to be a metal case. Hearing the floors creak under your weight he looks over. Upon seeing you he sends a glare.

“And what are you doing here? I don’t remember you having to prepare anything.” There was a doubtful tone to his voice. Twogami was trying to let this party go off without a hitch. And he wasn’t going to let some commoner ruin his plans. Though behind the rich boy costume Imposter did feel kinda bad. They felt like they were trampling all over your pride with their Byakuya act. However this was their ultimate. And as Twogami….No. Just as themself, if that even existed, they will keep their classmates safe. Even if they have to hurt some feelings.

“As a leader it is my duty to keep everyone in order and assure maximum safety. I plan to do a total sweep of the place before the party.” And like he did to you, you did not give him a chance to answer. You quickly turn around and exit out into the hallway missing the look of awe on Twogami’s face. Walking past the fire door you come up to the kitchen. Before you can reach for the door it swings open revealing Nagito. Strange….If Teruteru was already in the kitchen there was no need for Nagito to be in there. The lucky student passed by with a smile yet spoke no words towards you. Also strange. Nagito usually said something when passing. He deemed it rude not to say hello to an ultimate.

Entering the kitchen you see Teruteru at the counter. He doesn’t seem to notice you coming in. The usual smile on his face is replaced with a look of fear and he’s shaking like a leaf. Stepping closer seems to have caught his attention as he jumps. The look of fear is swiftly changed into a smile yet he’s still shaking. Teruteru then grabs a knife and begins chopping at some vegetables. Seems as if he’s trying to make it seem like he was simply taking a break.

“W-Why hello there. Heh, what could I do for you?” He’s shaken up quite a bit. Not a single flirty remark in that sentence and Teruteru sure did like to tease about your strong authority. You stand tall and look down at the chef. He visibly shrinks back. Looking him dead in the eye you start to command him.

“You will tell me what you have discussed with Nagito Komaeda.”

This caused Teruteru to tense up. Setting down the knife he grabs a comb from his pocket and begins to bring it through his hair. Though there isn’t a hair out of place on his pompadour. Appears to be a nervous habit.

“I uh….I have no idea what you mean mon ami~. We were simply discussing plans for the upcoming party.” Teruteru had tried to come off as collected but you knew better. He wasn’t making eye contact and he was constantly fidgeting. Nagito told him something and you were going to find out what.

“Teruteru Hanamura! I command you to tell me what Nagito had told you. Simple party plans would not have such an impact on your demeanor.”

This seemed to have caused a reaction in him. He began to blubber as words poured out of his mouth like a dam cracking under pressure.

“He came in here and told me that he had plans to murder someone at the party with the knife he had hidden under one of the tables in the dining room. He planned to overload the breaker in here with irons in the storage room to cause a blackout so he could grab the knife and kill someone during the party. I-I begun to form my own plan of stopping him….by….killing him?” The last part of his word vomit stuck with Teruteru. He would’ve had someone’s blood on his hands and would send the rest of his class to their own demise. “Oh my god I was going to kill him!” Teruteru then sinks to his knees before you.

Your face softens as you see the mess of a chef on the ground. Nagito was planning a murder? Why would he share this information with Teruteru? Dropping down to his level you set a careful hand on Teruteru’s back. “Listen. I’m going to go grab Twogami and you’re going to tell him what happened. And we’ll come up with a solution.” You normally wouldn’t call for backup, but as this was his party you felt he had the right to know.

You cautiously leave the kitchen and begin to look for the blond. Not able to find him in the building you exit to the hotel grounds. Noticing the while suit and blonde hair you call out to him and ask for him to come back. Leading him to the kitchen where Teruteru still sits slumped on the ground he listens to what you already know.

A look of disgust crosses Twogami’s face before he sets off to the main room. After announcing your departure to Teruteru, you follow him. Nagito is there setting up tables and dusting the furniture. He was about to offer the two of you a cheerful greeting but is cut off by your demand for him to exit the grounds. Not wanting to upset an ultimate that is clearly in higher ranks than he is, Nagito does not question it. He leaves the abandoned building to rest in his cottage to wait for permission to be allowed back in.

Looking under the tables you find the knife that Teruteru had mentioned. Grabbing it proceeds to coat your hand in wet paint. So Nagito had just planted this. But what’s the paint for?

“Set the knife in the duralumin case I brought on the left. I am currently using it to store anything I deem unsafe.”

You let out a scoff before setting the knife in the case. He sure does love bossing people around even in dire situations. Well….I guess that’s your talent so you can’t really speak. After doing a check of the rest of the tables, Twogami walks up to you with something in his hand. It’s a handkerchief with the Togami family crest. Imposter spent many hours perfecting the stitching of the symbol. You give him a confused look about the offering. Seeing the expression he rolls his eyes.

“Close your mouth before flies start to swarm. This is to wipe your hand off. I don’t need paint smears ruining the image of my party.”

“What? I can’t wipe paint on something as expensive as that. That handkerchief probably cost more than my house. I’ll just go wash it in the bathroom.”

Upset by your stubborn nature, Twogami grabs your wrist and begins to wipe the paint off himself. After your hand is clean he drops the cloth into your hand. “I expect that to be washed before it’s returned to me. Now I have some important matters to discuss.”

Stuffing the handkerchief into your pocket you give Twogami your full attention.

“I have decided that after this little incident we need to up the security. I would ask Nekomaru but I wish to keep this between us. Letting the public know that two people were planning a murder would cause chaos. When it’s time for the party you will help me conduct body searches. I’d like for you to keep an eye on the party with me to make sure no suspicious activity is at play.”

While normally you would make a fuss about him bossing you around with people’s lives at stake it was simply not the time for that. Nodding once he finishes speaking, you and Twogami complete one last look of the place before the party starts.

It’s time for the party and the two of you are set up outside of the abandoned building. After checking everyone and confiscating anything deemed dangerous, the party is in full swing. Everything is going smoothly. 11:30 was nearing and at the corner of your eye you see Nagito inch closer to the table. Knowing you shut the irons off you pay this no mind. There’s no way he’d try to pull anything when everyone can see him. A quick look of confusion crosses his face as the lights are still on. The confused expression is swapped for one of despair. There’s a creepy smile on his face and his eyes are clouded. Even if the blackout did not occur Nagito can still pull through with his plan.

He suddenly flips the table cloth over and goes to reach for his knife. Everyone at the party has eyes on him. Before he can fully register that his knife is in fact missing Nagito is pushed to the ground. His arms are pressed against his back and his face is squished into the floor. Multiple confused cries echo throughout the dining hall. Nagito recognized this tactic. After hours upon hours of researching the ultimates he’s sharing a class with he could easily tell that this was your work.

Twogami with Nekomaru in tow walks over to you and the detained lucky student. An agitated expression is on the heir’s face. He looks down at Nagito.

“You dare to think that I would let your plan continue? [Name] and I knew about your scheme and were quick to put a stop to it. And the fact that you would try to pull through with it in broad light is despicable.”

Anger, disgust, and confusion are present in the crowd of your classmates. Trying to make sense of it all Akane speaks up.

“I’m so friggin’ confused. What plan did Nagito have? Need me to beat him up for ya?”

You were quick to diminish the violent thought. “No, that will not be necessary as he has already been disarmed.”

“Nagito had planned out a murder.”

Twogami’s words caused a commotion in the dining hall. After hearing the noise from the kitchen, Teruteru cautiously enters the room fearing the worst. Though a feeling of relief washed over him after seeing Nagito on the ground.

Nekomaru lets out a strangled noise. His teeth are clenched and his fists tightened.

“You were going to murder one of your classmates? THAT’S INEXCUSABLE! Please [Name] allow me to detain him somewhere away from everyone. SOMEONE LIKE HIM CANNOT WALK FREEEEE!”

Looking over to Twogami as if silently discussing what to do he sends you a nod. Removing Nagito from your grasp he is quickly put into Nekomaru’s. The coach is quick to remove him from the premises. With a sigh Twogami faces your classmates. Pushing his glasses up he begins to apologise.

“I am sorry you all had to see that. And I am sorry that my exquisite party must draw to a close here. Exit the building and head to your cottage for the night.”

Though shaken, everyone proceeds to leave in groups. No one wants to walk back alone fearing that someone will try something. With just you and Twogami left he turns to face you.

“That was quite impressive. What you did back there was helpful in getting Nagito detained. I believe that we should come to an agreement. Yes we are fine separately but together I feel that we could do an outstanding job at keeping everyone safe.”

Twogami extended a chubby hand out for you to shake. This handshake would seal the two of you into a partnership. One of which would keep your class safe. Looking from his hand to his face then back to his hand you sit there in thought. This could be a wonderful idea. With two people working together that’s like double the safety. With a smile you shake his hand giving it a tight squeeze.

“I think I’d like that Twogami! From here on out the two of us are now Jabberwock Island’s health and safety committee.”

[c-is-for-circinate]

Post-ep 123 Reaction

Wow, y’all.  What a ride.

You know, I used to do these after every single CR episode.  Every single one, 2 AM, exhausted and dazed, trying to pour out smart thinky thoughts onto tumblr because I’d be so overflowing with ideas and feelings.

I haven’t so much, lately, and I think part of that is just the fact that I have not been enjoying this Aeor arc.  I’ve hated the traveling along with Lucien in a way that’s made it unpleasant to watch, instead of fun.  (For me, personally!  Many people have been enjoying the tension, and I know the players have been enjoying the tension, and that’s fine!  Yay for them!)  Some of the ancient ruins explorations, too, have gotten just a little too creepy-horror-game for sitting alone in my apartment at one in the morning.  I’ve had less to say.  I’ve wanted to say it less.

And that’s not true tonight.  I can’t remember the last time I got excited about a CR episode like I was tonight.  Oh, there’ve been bits and moments I loved all throughout, there always are, that’s why I’m still watching live even in an arc that hasn’t thrilled me, but I loved the whole episode today, all five and a half hours of it, and god that feels good.

So in celebration, some specific bullet points:

The start of the episode, the discovery of the eyes on Beau and Caleb.  The attempts at science.  The fear, and yet, also, the glimmers of...okay but what if we could use this?  (The moment in the second half, after the Tombtakers ran off, when Beau suggests going into her dreams to ask for help to find them--yes.  Yes.  I still don’t have a lot of interest in evil wizard plotlines when you doom yourself/the world/etc out of curiosity, but the willingness to dive into this terrifying thing that might change you, might break you, because you need what it can give you in order to save a thing you love (your friends, the world) more than you need to be whole or sane or even, necessarily, alive--that is my GOOD SHIT.)     

Guys, I just loved every single minute of that white dragon fight, okay?  It was such a mess.  It was such a mess!  And look, there’s a very specific kind of frenetic energy that the table gets when they find themselves in the middle of a terrifying boss battle, and there’s a different very specific kind of wild ‘this may as well happen’ energy they get when things go terribly wrong entirely due to random chance, and getting the compound of both of those things at once is always glorious.  Nobody is prepared for anything!  Everybody is freaking out!  There’s good reason to suspect that, even if someone dies a bit, everyone’s going to make it out alive, but shit’s wild in the middle there and it’s just such a joy to watch.   �� 

Likewise, I know that final fight was really stressful for both the cast and a lot of viewers, but honestly in so many ways I watched it feeling so much less stressed than the past few weeks have made me?  Yes, it was a horrible, horrible fight, the team in so far over their heads, so low on sleep and spells and any resources at all.  But, god, thank god, at least it was finally over.  There’s no going back to fake amity with the Tombtakers after this, no more playing along and trying to plot treason while the person you’re plotting against is probably hearing every word.  Enemies can be faced!  They can be fought, or fled, or defeated, they can be destroyed or put off for another day, but at least nobody’s pretending any more while trapped in wary uncertain fear of their own houseguests.  At least now it’s done.     

The fucking Iron Shepherds parallels.  Just.  Yes. I have hated the trapped feelings of traveling alongside Lucien and his crew, but the Iron Shepherds parallels are, while stab-me-in-the-heart painful, so fucking good.  The very best moments with Lucien have been the ones that mimic Mollymauk, not even because they bring hope that Molly could come back to us someday (although that’s there, that faint shimmering thread), but because it is always the best, worst, most glorious twist of irony. Molly died trying to save his friends, saving his friends, from the violence of a monster who was so very like him in all the ways he was terrified to know.  Lorenzo and his ragtag group of multiclassed minions, full of loyalty, arrogance, unexpected powers, here to torture and enslave.  The Nein have more power now, a little more negotiated control, they are different--but so much of it is just window-dressing as they’ve been dragged along on this pell-mell journey against their will, told when to walk and when to sleep, headed towards a place they would’ve gone anyway at the behest of someone they really do not give a shit about any more.  It’s so much the same. And the thing that is beautiful, and the thing that I love, the one thing for which I do love Lucien, is just--god, the irony.  The irony!  Because it’s not just that Lucien is like Lorenzo, that Molly turns out to be like the man that killed him after all; it’s not just Lucien, all unknowing, rebuilding old grudges and replaying old scenes without even knowing them.  It’s the fact that Molly’s death is the only reason this can happen in the first place. Mollymauk Tealeaf, murdered and buried, wanting only to protect his teammates from a megalomaniacal killer--sacrificing himself on a hope and a chance that maybe, maybe, he and his friends could all survive, and they’d all be fucked anyway if he didn’t--he died to do it.  And it worked.  They were safe, for a little while, for long enough to rescue Jester and Yasha and Fjord.  Long enough to keep going, to leave part of the world better than they found it, to canonize him in his own way.  Except now here they are again, worse and deeper into the same shit than ever before, and it never could have been like this if Molly had survived.  He derailed Lorenzo long enough to save them then, and created the forward path for the Lucien they’re facing now. It’s terrible.  It’s beautiful.  And that’s some damn good storytelling.

The start of the next episode is going to be very very hard for the Nein!  In so many ways, they’re back exactly where they were episodes ago when they first started traveling with Lucien’s crew to begin with: one threshhold crest in their possession, beat to hell and almost entirely out of spells, exhausted, in desperate need of a long rest, with a probably-pursuing enemy that doesn’t seem inclined to let them have one.  It’s as untenable now as it was then.

They have so much more knowledge now (was it worth it?).  They have their own connection to the city now (will it cost them more than they’ve gained?).  Maybe they have a direction.  Probably they’ve got options.  They’ve got an angel, an owl, a wooly mammoth, and a destination.  Maybe, if they’re very fast and very lucky, maybe, if Caleb uses a teleport spell or they somehow manage to navigate through the snow in their exhaustion with all their luck, they’ll make it to Essek in time to collapse almost safely.  They’ve needed backup so badly.  They’ve needed someone, anyone, to keep them safe for just a few hours so they can plan, and think, and sleep.

And they’ve been so busy trying to play nice, giving in to their fear, trying to avoid the fight they just dove into (with half the team exhausted and half their spell slots gone!), that they haven’t let themselves go and get those things.  And now they’re out the other side of that fight.  Now they know, just a bit more, what Lucien and his team are made of.

Now they can finally, maybe, maybe, start finding ways to take back their own control instead of keeling over with the fear.  I hope.  I hope, I hope, I hope.

[zodiyack]

The Originals Masterlist

(updated per upload)

Back to Masterlist | The Vampire Diaries Masterlist 

Prompt List  / Prompt List Two / Smut Prompts | Requests &/or feedback | To Do List

Taglist(s)

★ = smut

⋆ = presmut

♡ = fluff

☁ = angst/violence

☠ = death

Niklaus Mikaelson

Headcannons ~

Being A Winchester And Dating A Mikaelson Would Include...

Series ~

Every King Needs An Heir (Warnings Vary) (incomplete)

Each part is a memory from their time, however, to show their story, one must go to the beginning. Before the Originals existed. When Niklaus and the love of his life changed into the creatures with the rest of his family. Then end with where him and his queen are today.

Part I / Part II / Part III

Nonship / Platonic / Relative!Reader fics ~

Love On The Run ☁

(Request) In the heat of the moment, Y/n says something that pissed Klaus off. Elijah does the only thing he can and tells his wife to run for her life.

Fics And More ~

Back ♡

(Request) After a long amount of time without his queen, the big bad hyrbrid has her back in his arms once more. Boy is she glad to be back.

A Sire And His Sired ☁

(Request) Lucien doesn’t know boundaries, especially when it comes to his sire’s beautiful lover. He’s convinced she’s a goddess, but the god that rules by her side isn’t too happy about his advances.

Bad Boys

(Request) Klaus falls for the Salvatore’s sister, which doesn’t sit well with Damon. Unfortunately for Damon, hearing her sing, Klaus falls deeper.

Childish Games ☁

(Request) The big bad hybrid is playful and fun? Since when?

In Regards of My Ex ☁

Niklaus believes deceitful gossip from Aurora De Martel about his wife and takes his anger out on her. As a result, Y/n leaves and finds comfort with Cami and Davina, who call in backup to confront the big bad hybrid about his big bad dumbassery.

In Regards Of My Apology (Part Two) ☁

Y/n misses her husband so much that it affects her visibly. Rebekah allows her to rant about it then schemes with Elijah. Before Klaus knows it, his older brother and younger sister are before him with an important message.

In Regards Of My Stupidity (Part Three) ♡ ☁

Left alone in his empty castle with guilt, memories, and Hayley and his siblings’ words of advice to keep him company, Klaus hopes to reconcile with the woman he loved and betrayed.

When The Past Follows ☁

(Request) The Winchesters and their childhood friend Y/n visit New Orleans, where Y/n had a bad heartbreak. Her ex has two cases for them, but meanwhile, can’t help but sink his hybrid teeth into mischief, trying to get a rise out of Dean because of his unspoken feelings toward Y/n.

Elijah Mikaelson

Fics And More ~

Unsupervised (600+ Follower Special) ♡

Elijah leaves his lover in his brother, and sister’s, care. Soon enough, he learns how dumb of a mistake that was, finding her in a hospital and drunk out of her mind. Maybe next time he won’t leave her unsupervised.

Brotherly doings ☁

In need of a plan, Klaus uses Elijah’s girlfriend as bait. Elijah finds her and he doesn’t respond well to his brother’s idea. Nor does she.

Complications ☁

(Request) Ansel had a daughter a little after his affair with Esther, and his wishes for her to be protected didn’t go unnoticed by Esther. The second Hybrid to exist wishes to find her half-brother, unintentionally falling for his brother whilst doing so.

Time Can’t Heal All Wounds ☁

(Request) While Elijah believes he’s chasing after Hayley, his true feelings follow Y/n. And what hurts Hayley more than loving Elijah even after Jackson’s death, is knowing that.

Funny-Man

(Request) Cross-over with supernatural! Y/n Winchester is dating Elijah Mikaelson and her brothers would like to meet Elijah and his family. Unfortunately, Dean just isn’t the best with words.

Love On The Run ☁

(Request) In the heat of the moment, Y/n says something that pissed Klaus off. Elijah does the only thing he can and tells his wife to run for her life.

(PART TWO) Love Reunited ☁ ♡

The only thing standing between Klaus and forgiveness from his older brother is Y/n and her freedom.

Rebekah Mikaelson

Headcannons ~

Being A Winchester And Dating A Mikaelson Would Include...  

Nonship / Platonic / Relative!Reader Fics ~

When The Past Follows ☁

(Request) The Winchesters and their childhood friend Y/n visit New Orleans, where Y/n had a bad heartbreak. Her ex has two cases for them, but meanwhile, can’t help but sink his hybrid teeth into mischief, trying to get a rise out of Dean because of his unspoken feelings toward Y/n.

Freya Mikaelson

Headcannons ~

Being A Winchester And Dating A Mikaelson Would Include...  

Finn Mikaelson

Headcannons ~

Being A Winchester And Dating A Mikaelson Would Include...  

Kol Mikaelson

Headcannons ~

Being A Winchester And Dating A Mikaelson Would Include...  

Fics And More ~

Love Is The Greatest Power Of All ☁ ♡

Y/n and Kol have been together for centuries, she was traumatized over and lonely after his death, but vowed to avenge him. Years later, he’s in a new body, which she somehow already knows is him. Why? Because, it’s simple, love is the greatest power of all.

Snapping Is Over Rated ☁

It’s a bad time to be dating a Mikaelson when your brothers decide they want to go on a quest to kill the Original Family, who happen to be linked to each other.

Butterflies ♡

(Request) (PRE-VAMPIRE!KOL) Kol’s childhood lover has been sneaking off with him a number of times the older they got, but this time, he’s decided he’d like to tie the knot.

Trusting You To Trust Yourself ★ ♡ ☁

(Request) Kol’s first time feeding on his lover. All she wants is for him to trust himself, and all it takes for that to happen is for things to get a little spicy.

Alive ☁

(Request) Instead of Kol dying, the Gilberts and Y/n, Kol’s girlfriend, after some bickering, come to a compromise. Kol gets to live, as well as Jeremy and Elena, with Jeremy’s arm in tact as well.

Hayley Marshall

Nonship / Platonic / Relative!Reader fics ~

Time Can’t Heal All Wounds ☁

(Request) While Elijah believes he’s chasing after Hayley, his true feelings follow Y/n. And what hurts Hayley more than loving Elijah even after Jackson’s death, is knowing that.

Jackson Kenner

(No fics yet, but feel free to request when requests happen to be open!)

Marcellus Gerard

(No fics yet, but feel free to request when requests happen to be open!)

Davina Claire

(No fics yet, but feel free to request when requests happen to be open!)

Camille O’Connell

(No fics yet, but feel free to request when requests happen to be open!)     

Aurora de Martel

(No fics yet, but feel free to request when requests happen to be open!)

Tristan de Martel

(No fics yet, but feel free to request when requests happen to be open!)

Lucien Castle

Nonship / Platonic / Relative!Reader Fics ~

A Sire And His Sired ☁

(Request) Lucien doesn’t know boundaries, especially when it comes to his sire’s beautiful lover. He’s convinced she’s a goddess, but the god that rules by her side isn’t too happy about his advances.

[onelastbreath-writes]

I’ll Meet You There (Part 1)

Pairing: Marcus Moreno/ Wife!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Mentions child loss, loss of a spouse, survivor’s guilt, vague references to suicide/suicidal thoughts after loss of child (all located in the first 500 words, so it’s brief and not too dark, but please take care) and violence, swearing, and action/fighting.

Summary: What if Marcus’s wife didn’t actually die? What if she and a few others were kidnapped during an attack on Heroics’ HQ, and then held captive for years without realizing? If the only thing you “remember” from your past is that your husband and daughter were killed, well, you surely wouldn’t want to go back to the people who you believe did it. But maybe, with the help of a tenacious child and some re-awaking parental instincts, you’ll be able to break through the brainwashing and forced amnesia, and find your way home.

Tags: Hurt/No comfort (for now), ANGST, eventual happy ending, one really sad man for whom I just keep making things worse, #sorrynotsorry

A/N: This is my first We Can Be Heroes fic, and first reader fic, so please be gentle. I’ve got the rest of the story outlined, so I hope I can get down to writing and posting it soonish, but my RL is busy and doesn’t leave much time/energy for quick updates. If you like it and want me to do a taglist, let me know so you can know when I update again. Also a big thank you to the amazing Jay @disgruntledspacedad​ and her fic The Right Thing for inspiring this one, and for allowing me to use her wife!reader idea. Please go check her blog out, and give her some love <3

AO3 Masterlist

---

“You’ve been in a terrible accident, Doctor, and I regret to inform you of your husband’s and daughter’s passing. Our rescue and recovery efforts after the incident were unfortunately unsuccessful, and you have our deepest sympathies.”

It took months for those words to even sink into you; months before you even remembered anything about who you were... the accident, or the attack, as it was more commonly known by you and the other victims, took your entire life away in an instant. You survived, physically, but at the cost of your partner? Your child? All the memories of your life together? How could you be worth it?

“Your transcripts and accomplishments are phenomenal, Doctor, and I’m in need of talented and capable individuals such as yourself to help right the wrongs, and demand justice, from those who have committed such heinous acts against us. The Heroics are murderers, destroyers of peace, and they have gotten away with their crimes for far too long. They’ve been praised and applauded and worshipped as gods while all they truly are, are terrorists. How many more innocent lives can we allow to be lost to their carelessness? ‘For the greater good’ is quite the insult when the people saying such things aren’t the ones losing their families to the chaos, wouldn’t you agree? Join me, Doctor, and we can make a difference.”

It was easy decision for you, even in the early days of your recovery. From the distant and foggy memories of your past, your anguish in what you could recall, you knew that if you could stop someone else from having to feel the loss and pain that comes from losing their spouse and children, you would do so in a heartbeat.

Your husband had been an incredible man, your Everything, you would imagine, going by the ache in your heart when you thought of being without him. His name, his appearance; that was all lost to you when you lost him. His existence in what could be healed of your memories was just a shadow, a shade, the vague impression of the man you loved. You remembered his warmth, his kindness and gentleness, his love and devotion to you and the child you created together.

And your beautiful baby girl... if thoughts of your husband left your heart aching, then thoughts of your daughter left you in unparalleled agony, completely inconsolable. You tried to avoid thinking of her, if you were being honest, tried to leave all what-ifs and could’ve/should’ve/would‘ve’s behind... you had worked with people, mothers, who had lost children before, had seen them tear themselves apart in their grief, taking the blame for something that was in no way their fault; you had seen them destroy their lives with their hoarded guilt and perceived crimes... you couldn’t allow yourself to fall for that, those falsehoods, you had to be alive if you wanted to honour your child and husband’s sacrifice.  

“We will make them pay for what they’ve done to us, Doctor, I promise you that. Together, we can get justice for your husband, for your little Missy.”

---

Marcus knew something was wrong as soon as his commlink started transmitting static instead of his teammates’ conversations. The Heroics had been deployed to stop a hoard of rogue security androids that were infected by a virus or something (he couldn’t usually follow the technobabble), which had led them to escape their testing facility and target nearby civilians with their advanced weapons technology.

Evacuating the citizens trapped in the line of fire was the team’s first objective, and once the area was cleared of potential victims, they moved onto the containment and neutralization of the enemy combatants. The Heroics team was decently cohesive; they could work together to ensure the protection of innocent lives while in a firefight, but once the civilians were in the clear and the stakes not so high, the supersized egos of the members emerged with a fiery passion. This particular firefight was no different.

“Hey ‘Legend, bet you a week of incident reports that my count is higher!” Miracle Guy’s voice broke out over the ‘link, as eager to show-boat as ever, from where he was steadily piling up his deactivated attackers.

“I’ll take that action, Miracle, easy. It’ll be like taking candy from a baby!” Crimson Legend wasn’t the type of person who could ignore a bet, especially one issued from Miracle.  “You’re probably so behind already that you don’t even stand a chance, ha!”

Of course, they just had to make it a game, keep the superiority contest going; like a single mistake couldn’t cost them a life or a limb. And just to further prove how amazingly mature the rest of Marcus’s team of Adult Superheroes were, they all started in on the bet too.  

“If I beat your totals, I want a week off from training!”

“Ha! Like any of you have a chance of winning against me! I want my on-call weekend, off”

“If I win, you’re all my personal slaves for the rest of the day!”

Did Marcus say Adult Superheroes? He meant infants.  

And they had started the mission so well, communicating and strategizing, actual teamwork instead of bickering and joking around like children. Hell, even their children didn’t get into as much trouble as their parents could.  

“Guys, it’s really not the best time to be playing around. We need to focus on-” He was cut off by the loud static burst of an out-of-range radio. Shit. That’s not good. If his comms unit was fried, he couldn’t direct his teammates, couldn’t keep track of them, couldn’t help them.

They were pretty spread out by now, giving everyone room to use their powers without worrying about another Heroic getting caught in the blast zone. He knew from their most recent locational sound off that Crushing Low and Invisi Girl were working together near the intersection two streets over from him, and if he could make his way over to them, he could figure out what was going on.

Marcus needed to know if it was just his commlink that was out of commission, or if their entire network had gone down. The former scenario was a minor inconvenience, the latter was a major issue. Either he’d have to lead his team by correspondence, or he’d have to worry about them being completely alone in the field, without support from HQ, and without any chance of backup or rescue.  

He couldn’t worry about the details now, he had to keep focused on finishing off the seemingly endless wave of androids. Androids with guns. Androids with guns that he was trying to kill with a pair of katanas... Maybe he hadn’t thought his primary weapon for this mission out very well... It was just something that he’d have to come back to later. For now: sword, robot, teammates.

---

They didn’t pay him enough for this. He should have gone into acting like he had planned before his powers manifested. This sort of shit didn’t happen to actors.  

Marcus had destroyed all the androids delaying him from reaching his nearest teammates and was finally able to move to their location with relative ease and only minor distraction. He could see Crushing Low laying waste to the few remaining functional robots in the area, and could assume that Invisi Girl was around somewhere, disabling any downed but not dead enemies while protecting ‘Low’s back.  

He was proven right when he heard a feminine voice call for him to “hit the deck, Moreno!”.

“Thanks Vis! You two doing alright? What’s your comms sitch?” He stood back up straight, just missing being nailed in the head by a flying metal limb had it not been for her heads-up.

“We’re a-okay! Comms are out though. No known damage to them, no knocks or surges, might be the tech, or it might be the channel. We’ll have to see what Tech-No thinks.” She was still invisible, but Marcus could imagine her animated expressions and movements. She was one of the most... normal... of the Heroics, if normal could ever be used to describe any of the team. Reliable and observant, with a good sense of battle strategy. He greatly appreciated her skills and efficiency in the field; she and Tech-No being the most down-to-earth of the Heroics, most willing to help him keep the peace between the rest of them.

“I’ll watch Low’s back if you can go find Tech. We need to know what’s going on, ASAP. If all the comms are down, and Tech can’t get them back up, I need you to find everyone and tell them to meet back at the robotics facility. Get Miracle and Fast to help if you can. If anyone’s injured, they’re your first priority, okay? Thanks, Vis.”

---

Getting every member of the Heroics team back together took nearly an hour, all coming fresh from the fight but thankfully not too banged up or bruised. They set up a perimeter once enough of the team had arrived to their meeting spot, allowing Tech-No to deep-dive into  investigating their communications malfunction.

“It’s the network, not our comms. We’re dealing with a drop either from HQ’s side, or a forced drop here from RFI. But considering the standard distance and all the buildings and stuff around us, a radio frequency jammer wouldn’t be able to block our communications network as far out as we were. We must assume that the problem comes from HQ. which presents further concerns, obviously. I designed most of the technology there myself, so I know exactly how much work it would be to take down the whole system. We need to consider this as part of a bigger plot, and plan accordingly.” Tech-No’s eventual explanation hang heavy in the air, no one willing to break the silence following it... If something had happened to HQ… Their co-workers were there, their friends, their children…  

Marcus thought of his daughter and wife. They were both there today. His wife worked in the medical centre, and they brought their daughter there for daycare. If something happened there... shit. If he was panicking about his family already, his teammates were doing the same. He had to head this off. He couldn’t let this get out of control. He took a breath and squared his shoulders. It was time to be Marcus Moreno the leader of the Heroics, not Marcus the husband and father. Lead by example, they’re all counting on you.

“We have no proof that anything is actually wrong, and until we know for sure why we can’t reach them, we need to do our jobs. Finish the mission. We’ve always trusted our people to hold down the fort at home so we can help people out here, and they’ve never let us down before. We are not going to doubt them now, understood? Whatever happened? We know HQ is doing their best to keep our loved ones safe. So, we finish up here, quickly and thoroughly, and then we head back to base. Let’s get moving,” He met his teammates’ eyes, allowed them to witness his own fears, but also his stubborn determination. He wasn’t asking them to ignore or dismiss their worries, but rather, put it into finishing the mission so they could go home sooner.  

No one fought him; thankfully just picked their tasks and headed out.  

“Tech, we need transport. Now. I don’t care how you do it, just get it done, alright?” Marcus refused to acknowledge the slight tremble in his voice, tried to breathe around the lump in his throat and the dread sinking in his stomach. He desperately stopped himself from thinking about coincidences and probabilities. This was all a fluke, a random string of events that didn’t mean anything more was going on. They’d be able to laugh about it when they got home and saw everything was just as they’d left it. He had to believe that. He didn’t have any other choice.

—-

Transport home turned out to be a military helicopter big enough to fit the whole team, in addition to the fully outfitted squad of soldiers already inside.

“According to the press release your director gave, there was small but powerful group of gifted individuals who invaded Heroics’ Headquarters, intending to either kidnap or kill certain “important personnel” within the building. Didn’t specify much more than that, other than that your organization would be dedicating as much manpower as they could to bring “those who would cause such destruction and terror” to justice. The address was filmed in the parking lot, but there were a lot of emergency responders and vehicle in the background. I’m sorry we can’t tell you anything more, but well, we were scrambled to your location ASAP, barely had time for the news we got...” The staff sergeant sitting across from Marcus briefed the team about what the intel they had on the HQ attack. And that was what it was. An attack. The thing they all feared most.

“Thank you for the information, and for the ride back home; we lost communication in the middle of a battle, with no clue as to why. Now, at least, we have an idea of what we should expect when we arrive.” The mention of “important personnel” jump-started Marcus’s heart into overdrive. That was the code phrase they used when describing their most vulnerable people to the public, non-combatants and injured persons usually; a smokescreen meant to dissuade targeted attacks, and shift attention away from those who couldn’t protect themselves in the case of an emergency. It was also the code that frequently represented their children.  

The families of the Heroics were classified as high-risk targets; villains and enemies of their organization didn’t often have the moral decency to leave their loved ones out of the fight. So, to afford as much anonymity and protection possible, any time the team had to reference their partners and children in physical records and documentation, it was under that code phrase.  

This attack was centred on their kids.  

What kind of monster do you have to be to go after a bunch of kindergarten and primary school children?

Fuck.

The only good news was that there was no mention of the attack being a success.  

So, all the Heroics knew for certain was that a group of villains had tried to get to their children, and while obviously causing significant damage to HQ, they had been stopped. Were unsuccessful. The Home Team had saved the day again.  

Marcus thanked every deity he could think of for keeping his and his friends’ kids safe.  

The rest of the flight home was quiet. Him and teammates finally able to get some rest after all the fighting and panic, and the soldiers conversing just loud enough to be heard over the headsets and hum of the chopper’s motors.  

He was pulled back from the edge of unconsciousness he had been drifting along for a while when the pilot gave them their five-minute ETA.

They were home at long last, and everything was going to be just fine.

---

[Next Part]

[greekgeek21]

Percy Jackson & The Avengers: Convergence - they steal an old pirate ship

I'm alive!! I'm so sorry for just ditching you guys, but I was in Shasta for a week and didn't have any internet access so I wasn't even able to say that I was gonna not update. But I hope this nice, semi-long chapter makes up for it!  Reminder that this is also available on FF, Inkitt, Ao3, Webnovel, and Wattpad

On a completely different note, I'm going to be starting to write a book. Like, a real published book. It'll take a few years but I'm determined and I love the idea I thought of so if any of you are interested, email me at oceanbreezq68@gmail.com and I might be willing to send some samples. I want input, badly. And all the people in my life are biased. Total strangers on the internet are totally made for this, right?

I recently got into readers marauder era fanfics and I'm already in too deep, gays (and yes I meant to say gay, we all know it if you're reading pjo fanfiction). There is no escape.

Anyway, I'm running out of prewritten chapters, so I have to get to writing that while preparing to write a book. Wish me luck! Happy pride month! 🏳️‍🌈✨

- your author

Ω ♆ Ω

"Run it by me again. Just one more time," Steve asked, still highly confused.

They had made it to Florida and were now at a private dock. Percy had just briefly explained his control over any water vehicle and the Captain was not getting the point.It was understandable. Percy still barely got it.

However, they didn't have a whole lot of time, and every second they wasted discussing Percy's weird powers was another second Annabeth's captors had to hurt her. They did not have time for this.

"We are going to steal a boat, and I'm going to sail us the rest of the way," Percy sighed.

"Ok, but, how are we going to sail it if only you know how to do it?" Steve asked.

Even Piper was getting frustrated now. "He can control the boat! We won't have to do anything! The boat will listen to his will! Oh my gods!"

"But how is that possible!?" Steve shouted.

"How would I know?! I was just born with the freaky powers!" Percy yelled right back, getting fed up with this never-ending conversation.

Jason decided to cut in before things got too out of hand. They had to save Annabeth.

"Guys! This doesn't matter! What matters is that we save Annabeth, and we can't do that if we're stuck here arguing over something that is out of our control," he said.

Percy huffed. "He started it."

Hazel rolled her eyes. "How does Annabeth put up with you?"

"Honestly? No idea," Percy smirked.

"Let's just get going, team. We have a boat to steal, right?" Tony asked.

"Yep. And I think this place has the perfect one for the job." The son of Poseidon then started walking away, apparently following his weird sailing powers.

I guess we're supposed to follow him, thought Piper.

Ω ♆ Ω

"This is supposed to take us through the most cursed waters on the planet?" Bruce asked, looking the boat up and down.

"Yes. Isn't it beautiful?" Percy said and smiled, running his hand along the side.

Tony leaned over to Frank. "Is he seeing the same boat we are?"

Frank just shrugged, used to Percy's weirdness by now. Honestly, it was a little hard for him to imagine the team taking what was in front of them to Polyphemus' island. It seemed like it wouldn't survive the normal ocean.

To be clear, what Percy was suggesting they take was an old pirate ship, currently on display inside of a warehouse at the dock. It was covered in dried-up barnacles, and the mast was split in half. There were also holes all along the sides. It was a miracle the thing hadn't crumbled already.

"Yes, Tony, I am. This thing will run for me. It doesn't even need to be repaired, I can handle that. The only thing that matters is that it is built to withstand the type of waters we're going out in," Percy said. "We need all the advantages we can get."

Natasha, to everyone's surprise, spoke up, "I think we should trust Percy. If he says it'll work, then it'll work. He's the son of Poseidon, right? Nothing can hurt us while in the ocean. Am I correct, Percy?"

Jason cleared his throat and gave Percy a significant look. The Avengers needed to know that they were basically powerless in the triangle. The older teen looked ready to explain, but Frank spoke before he had the chance.

"Actually, no. The Sea of Monsters is outside of Poseidon's realm of power, hence the name. Percy won't have the same access to his father's domain as he does out here," he said, "So, basically, we're entering a dangerous situation, with no backup, and an inexperienced team. Should be fun, right?"

The Avengers were shocked, to say the least. Not at what the boy had said, but who had said it. As far as they had seen, Frank wasn't as confident as his physical form portrayed. They were wrong. Frank was confident, and his friends were proud of him for it, too. It had been a large transformation from when Percy had first met the son of Mars.

"Well, I think we should start heading out. We want to get as far as possible before the sun goes down, right?" Piper asked.

"Right," Percy nodded.

She wasn't really certain about all of this sailing stuff. Sure, she had been on the Argo II, but that was different than an actual boat. For one, it could fly and was controlled by a gaming console. She hadn't really bothered learning how to actually run a ship for that.

But now, she had to act like she knew what she was doing, and that was scary. The Avengers may put on a confident front, but she saw the insecurities in all of them. Some were harder to find than others, but finding insecurities was her specialty.

They really were going into a completely unknown situation. At least Piper and the Seven had been in this world for a little while, but the Avengers hadn't even encountered a monster before. It would sure be a shock when they were faced with some of the worst ones for their first fights. So, she and the rest of the demigods had a responsibility to be the examples, no matter how much the "adults" liked to point out that it was "ethically wrong" for them to do that.

Ω ♆ Ω

Turns out, the kid hadn't been lying about being able to sail the ship. Tony would be the first to admit that he was skeptical of the structure of the vessel, but he was proved wrong when, after the group had gotten the thing into the water, it had started to magically prepare itself for departure. Not a single drop of water leaked into the interior; it was like the water simply moved around the holes.

It was spectacular!

Before he knew it, the group had settled into the boat and were moving away from the dock. The Avengers were marveling at everything around them, considering that Percy wasn't even steering the thing, and yet it was supposedly moving in the right direction. To add to the shock, the ship's parts were moving themselves. It was not logically possible, and yet there Tony was, watching it unfold like some kind of acid trip.

"This is...amazing," he muttered, leaning against the rail with Leo, who he had taken a certain liking to. They were a lot alike.

The son of Hephaestus grinned, "Right? I told you guys Percy had cool powers. You should see him with Blackjack or Arion. It's wacky, man!"

"Who's Blackjack and Arion?" Tony asked, noting the new names.

"Oh. Right, I forgot. Blackjack is Percy's pegasus, and Arion is Hazel's horse. Percy can talk to them because his father created horses," Leo answered.

And just when the man of iron was getting used to all of this, he was pulled back into astonishment.

Ω ♆ Ω

After a couple hours of mingling and exploring, Percy called the team up to the deck. He had started to feel it a while ago when he knew it was still a distance away, but now he knew that they were approaching the Sea of Monsters.

It was a blank spot for him. Everywhere else, he could feel the ocean's power thrumming, waiting for him to control it. But here, there was nothing. Considering they were in the middle of the ocean, it was pretty obvious what it was. That was how he had tracked the place down without a map. It was his blind spot. He would just follow the blankness like it was the North Star.

Once everyone had gathered, he told them the news, and to say the atmosphere changed was an understatement. What smiles they had had disappeared, and their expressions turned serious.

"It's time, guys. Get ready. The first thing we're going to come up on is Scylla and Charybdis. We have to go through them to get into the sea. Now, I've planned this so that we should hopefully be able to pass through without any problems, but with six demigods' luck, we shouldn't rely on that too much. Charybdis only feeds three times a day, so if I planned this right, we should be able to pass over her without a fuss. Everyone got it? Be prepared for a fight, but don't expect it, please. We don't need any more reasons for the Fates to curse us."

Hazel stepped up, "Should the Avengers help us if we end up fighting something? Or should they just observe how we deal with monsters first?"

"We can handle ourselves," Steve defended.

Jason sighed, fed up with the same old arguments, "Alright, that's it! The Avengers will let us take the lead in any fights we may or may not end up in. They will not do anything without one of our approvals because we have actual experience with these beings. They will not be put on the sidelines, but they will also not be on the front lines. Does that work for everyone?"

Percy sent a thankful grin to his cousin, "Thank you, Jason. And yes, it does."

Jason just nodded in return.

"Alright, gang! Buckle up! Make sure to keep your hands and feet inside the ship at all times, and remember, the sword points away from you. It's showtime!" Leo cackled.

Just as he finished, they entered a wall of mist, which was unsettling to say the least. The temperature dropped almost three degrees as they passed through it.

Percy pulled out Riptide before steering the ship towards Charybdis. Hopefully, if everything went to plan, they would be out of this Hades-forsaken place by sunrise.

But, of course, nothing ever went to plan on a demigod's quest.

Ω ♆ Ω

Maybe it wasn't the best idea for me to come, was Bruce's first thought as he got his first glimpse at a greek monster. He had taken refuge inside the sleeping quarters of the ship, practicing his breathing exercises. He was really hoping this didn't turn into a Code Green. This was definitely not the place to let the Hulk loose.

So far, it had been silent upstairs, so Bruce concluded that it was going good so far. He had researched the Greek and Roman myths before they had left and on the plane, and everything that he could find on Charybdis was not reassuring. It was true what Percy said, that she only ate three times a day, but nobody really knew when those times were. Until Percy, apparently. He had survived the Sea of Monsters, so everyone on this ship had to trust his judgement in everything they did here. Bruce could tell that the other Avengers were struggling with taking orders from a "child." But Bruce had learned to not underestimate anyone on his travels while in hiding. Plus, look up any demigod's name and there was a whole list of accomplishments to find.

If Percy said that he knew when the monster liked to eat, then he knew when the monster liked to eat. It was as simple as that.

So, ten minutes into their first obstacle, and things were going fine. Everyone was eerily quiet, but no sign of Charybdis or Scylla yet. Of course, as soon as someone thought about it, an outline of a serpent appeared in the fog surrounding the boat.

Frank was the first one to spot it. "Guys..." He looked up at Percy. "We have a problem."

He pointed into the fog and Percy cursed. "Oh schist. I knew she couldn't just leave us alone."

The Avengers had figured out that something was coming and were unsure what to do. The demigods seemed to be just waiting like sitting ducks for the thing to attack them, and that was not a good plan. The Avengers don't wait for their opponent to strike first.

"Alright, that's it. I'm going to see what it is," Tony mumbled, activating his Iron Man armor.

"No, Tony! That's not a good-" Piper got cut off as the billionaire flew off, "...idea."

If she couldn't yell at that idiot, she was gonna yell at his teammates. She turned around, prepared to cuss out some idiot "superheroes," but Hazel beat her to it. "What was he thinking?! Why didn't you idiots stop him?! He has no idea what he's getting himself into! That monster is NOT something you guys can handle without our help! Mortalium tam stultus!"*

Natasha appraised the small demigod. She sure was a young spitfire. And from what she had seen already, a powerful one.

"Ok, let's just calm down, alright? Tony should be able to hold his own until we can go save his stupid ass," Leo sighed. Working with mortals was draining.

They were always so brash about things. And yes, coming from a greek, that statement was pretty hypocritical, but it still wasn't a lie. He idolized Mr. Stark's work, but man if only the guy could learn some restraint and he would be perfect.

Just as Leo had spoken, an explosion was heard, followed by a muffled string of curses. Only Tony Stark could come up with those creative swear words, so at least there was proof that the guy was still alive. For now, at least. The group needed to get that soon.

"Alright, hold on! This is gonna get bumpy!" Percy shouted, steering the ship towards the sound of fighting.

He willed the vessel to move faster, and it, of course, obeyed. In his head, Percy was just thinking rush rush rush. They needed to get this fight out of the way and get to Annabeth right after. Percy was praying to any god that would listen for there to not be any more disruptions to their journey. He just had to be confident in his skills. He had done this before, so he knew what lay ahead of them.

And it was going to be a challenge.

Ω ♆ Ω

Tony would deny any claim of him being held in the mouth of a sea serpent by his leg. Cuz that didn't happen. Totally.

But if it did, then the rest of the questing group would have worked together to fend off the monster until they could get away. Percy would've used Riptide to stab the monster in the leg, while Jason flew up and used his gladius to cut open her eye. The rest of the group basically just put on a full-frontal assault until Scylla released their idiotic teammate. Leo blew some fire, Hazel manipulated the Mist so that the Avengers could all see it for what it was, Piper made it loosen its grip with her charmspeak, Frank and Clint released some well-placed arrows, Natasha fired some gunshots, and Steve sliced into it with his shield.

All in all, the thing realized quickly that it was outmatched.

Then, after Tony received a very stern reprimanding by Piper and Steve, the group carried on. They didn't have time to dilly-dally. Saving Annabeth was their top priority.

Ω ♆ Ω

Meanwhile...

"Let me go, you skatá!"* Annabeth screamed, kicking her captor in the knees.

She had been knocked out as soon as they had shadow traveled, so she hadn't woken up until an hour ago. When she had, her wrists and ankles had been shackled to a stone wall with imperial gold shackles. The terrorists had stepped up their game.

There was dim lighting, but from what she could figure out before, she was in a cave of some kind. They had completely cleared out the area around her, so there weren't any visible location markers. That is, until they moved her.

The people who had grabbed her were strong and bulky and covered in black. They had black combat suits with black ski masks covering their features. Stereotypically, Annabeth would've figured the goons to be stupid, but they kept her shackles on and put a sack over her head so they at least has someone smart on their team.

Annabeth was getting really sick of not knowing anything, though.

So that's where she found herself at the moment: as a "defenseless" hostage. It was quite comical, really. Did these idiots really think that she would go quiet?

She felt one of her kicks come into contact with a kneecap and heard a satisfying grunt of pain from one of the thugs. Good, she thought, I hope that hurt.

Then, she was thrown onto the cold, stone floor and forced to hold her head up. The whole situation was so stereotypical that she wanted to laugh. But then she also didn't want to come off as more psycho than her captors, so she kept it to herself.

"This is quite interesting," a voice said, "The prideful daughter of Athena, reduced to a simple mortal's hostage.

The sack on her head was yanked off, so Annabeth spat down at the man's feet, glaring at him with a burning hatred. Taking a quick survey of the room, Annabeth found that she was being held captive on Polyphemus' island. The room was the main room of his cave; the one where she, Percy, and Grover further blinded the cyclops.

"If you had actually gotten me on your own, it might have been impressive, but having to use monsters is just pathetic," she said.

The leader growled and kicked her in the jaw. It didn't have enough power to break it, but it did cause her to bite through her tongue.

Annabeth spit out the blood produced in her mouth, dirtying the man's shiny shoes. The guy would have to do a lot worse than that to scare her.

"Hmm... I like your spirit. It's going to be that much more fun when I break it," he hissed, kneeling down to her eye level.

"I hope you rot in Hades," is all Annabeth responded with.

The guy laughed. ACTUALLY laughed. So, he was a crazy sociopath hades-bent on tearing down the natural order of the universe, Annabeth decided, how nice.

Ω ♆ Ω

I kinda really love this and I hope you did too. Now, to get into some unasked political shit: Love is love. I like all genders, and I still don't want to see any of them practically having sex in front of me. So just, accept yourself and others for who they are and move on. Is that so hard? Happy pride month & happy Father's Day!!

- your author

PS Remember to comment, like, and reblog!

other chapters :)

Ω ♆ Ω

Bonus scene!

The group was spending time in the dining room of the ship when all of a sudden, Percy remembered something truly horrifying. Like, beyond disgusting!

“Oh, my gods! Guys!!!” he exclaimed.

Hazel rolled her eyes and said, “What, Percy?”

“Charybdis is my half-sister! Ew ew ew ew ew EW EW EW EW!!!” Percy shouted his answer.

Everyone simultaneously gagged.

(Inside, Steve was starting to get seriously concerned about these kids’ chaotic family.)

[spooderboyandtincan]

I Love You So, So Much

WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

Peter was half asleep, curled into Tony’s side as they watched Stranger Things, Tony’s arm around his shoulder, his hand running though his curls. The small boy yawned and shifted, resting his head on the genius’s chest.

“You comfy, tesoro?” Tony murmured.

“Mmhmmm.”

The man pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, ruffling his hair. “Just checking, baby.” 

There was a comfortable silence, then suddenly- “Boss, Captain Rogers is requesting to speak to you. He claims it is an emergency.”

The pair jolted up like they had been shocked. “Put him through, FRI,” Tony ordered. 

“Tony, you need to get here now!”

“Cap-”

“It’s Hydra. They’re targeting the compound, we need backup. Now, Tony.” There was a shout cut off in the background and the sound of Steve’s shield whipping through the air.

“Cap- Steve, I can’t, Peter’s here, he’s with me.”

I have to protect him.

“Tony, we need you now.” There was an urgency in his voice. Tony hesitated.

“Pete-”

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark, I got this-”

“What- no, Peter, no, no-”

“I’m Spider-man, Mr. Stark!”

“Yes, Petey, but this is Hydra. You’re staying right here. It’s too dangerous.” 

And I can’t lose you.

“Mr. -”

“No. You’re staying here, in the safe room.” 

“But-”

“No, Peter. I’ll be fine, I promise.” 

It’s you I’m worried about.

Tony rushed Peter to his safe room; sound proof, heat proof, almost unbreakable, protected. Where Peter would be protected. “Okay, miele. You’ve gotta stay in here the entire time. Don’t leave until I get back, okay?”

“Fine, Mr. Stark.” He sounded annoyed and but mostly worried.

“Hey,” Tony whispered. “It’s okay, baby, I’ll be fine. I’ll come back here and I promise I will come get you as soon as I can, okay? I promise. Just stay safe.”

“Okay, Mr. Stark.” The boy’s eyes were watery.

Tony leaned in and squeezed him in a tight hug, kissing his curls firmly. “I love you so, so much, Peter.”

“I love you too, Mr. Stark.”

~~~~~

The fight was treacherous. Hydra agents swarmed from everywhere, surrounding the compound. 

Tony wore the latest Iron Man suit (the one with the glitter helmet Peter convinced him to wear). Rhodey greeted with a salute and a “Hey, Tones. Glad you finally decided to show up,” before Nat ordered them to shut up.

Tony took the West side of the compound with Rhodey, Nat and Clint, where the agents seemed to be causing the most racket. Nat chose to be the master of stealth once again and pounced on unsuspecting intruders. Clint, of course, was skillfully shooting them from his vantage point on top of the compound. Tony and Rhodey blasted them with their repulsors and kept each other’s six. 

“Nice shot!” Iron Man shouted as he took down several agents at once. 

“On your left!” Rhodey replied.

After a long half hour of fighting, in which Tony’s suit malfunctioned and began playing “Happy Birthday” until he could shut it off, the Hydra agents were either dead, injured, or contained by SHIELD Agents, who had showed up five minutes before without Starbucks.

“Bit late, aren’t you, Eyepatch,” Tony grumbled as he landed next to the man. 

“My sincere apologies, Stark. I was helping out the agents who attacked your motherfucking tower.”

“W-what?” Tony whispered, confused and beginning to feel a sense of dread.

“Hydra attacked your tower, too, Stark. They got in somehow, actually. You should check your security.”

They got in. They got in. They got in his fucking tower. Where Peter was Peter was there Peter was still there in the tower Peter got attacked.

Tony felt the blood drain from his face, and before he knew it, he was in the air, flying full speed to the penthouse. Because Peter was there.

He had to be okay. Because Tony needed Peter.

~~~~~

Finally, finally Tony arrived at the penthouse, cracking the floor as he landed, then sprinting as fast as he could to find Peter, shouting his name. “PETER! Peter, kiddo, where are you?! PETER!”

“Peter, please, where are you?!”

“Peter-” He stopped short, standing in the kitchen. 

No.

No. 

No!

 NONONONONONONONO

PETER!

“PETER!”

He fell to his knees, shouting his name, kneeling next to the tiny body. Frantically, he turned to boy over, pulling him onto his lap and cradling him against his chest. 

Blood blood blood there was so much blood his eyes were closed he looked so pale Peter Peter wake up

“Peter?” he whispered, voice trembling. “Peter?” His hands shook as he felt for a pulse. Pressing down firmly, he felt... nothing. Nothing. He pressed harder on his neck, praying for a heart beat. 

None.

“FRIDAY- r-run vitals.”

“No pulse detected.”

“Again.”

“No pulse-”

“Again!”

“Boss, I’m sorry. He’s gone.”

Gone? That didn’t make sense. Peter wasn’t gone. He was right there. He was fine. Tony just had to wake him up.

“Hey Petey,” he mumbled. “Wanna wake up for me? I-I know you can do it. P-please, baby. Come on, Pete. Wake up. For- for me? Please!”

Nononono this wasn’t happening this isn’t happening he was too pale there was so much blood too much blood why wasn’t he waking up he needed to wake up

“Peter. Peter. Wake up goddammit!! Wake up!!”

He could still save him he knew CPR he could still save him

Thirty compressions. Two rescue breaths. Keep him alive make him come back

Come back to him

“Fuck, Peter, come on!” he screamed as he lay the small boy on his back and knelt over him. “Come back, fucking come back!!”

Thirty compressions. Two rescue breaths.

Bring him back

“Come on Peter, come on!!” he cried, pumping Peter’s small chest rapidly. “Fucking come on!!”

Thirty compressions.

“Wake up Peter!”

 Two rescue breaths.

“Come back! Come back now.”

This was all his fault he made Peter stay here it was his fault

Peter’s ribs caved in under his hands. To his horror, he felt one crack. 

He had to apologize so much when Peter woke up

It was after ten anguished minutes that Tony sat back in shock. 

Peter still wasn’t waking up.

And then he began screaming.

“NONONONONOWAKEUPWAKEUP PETER YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE I NEED HIM GIVE HIM BACK GIVE HIM BACK PETER WAKE UP RIGHT NOW WAKE UP I NEED HIM I NEED HIM PLEASE ANYONE BUT HIM PLEASE ANYONE ANYONE NOT PETER NOT PETER NOT HIM PLEASE GIVE HIM BACK NOW GIVE HIM BACK!!!!”

Eventually the man the man just screamed, hugging Peter’s limp, tiny body tightly, cradled against his chest like a baby. Just screaming screaming screaming.

Screaming

Sobbing

Begging

Peter wake up

Please

Why didn’t he wake up

~~~~~~

FRIDAY had alerted Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy of Tony’s distress, and they rushed to the penthouse, only to find him cradling his dead child, rocking back and forth on the wall, staring straight ahead with broken and dull unseeing eyes.

“No,” Pepper whispered. “No.”

“Tones,” Rhodey murmured. “Oh, no.”

Happy said nothing. Just stared in shock.

Slowly, Rhodes approached the stricken man, kneeling down, trying to make eye contact and desperately not looking at Peter. 

“Jesus,” he muttered. “Tony, oh god.”

Finally Peter’s father looked up. He didn’t even look like he recognized him. “I told him I’d come back. I promised. I came back. Why isn’t he waking up? Why won’t he wake up? Peter-”

Rhodey felt nauseous as Tony gently kissed Peter’s cold, pale cheek. 

“Peter, wake up. You can wake up now, it’s okay. Please.... Rhodey, why won’t he wake up?”

“Tones... Oh Tony, he’s- he’s not going to wake up, man. He’s gone. I’m sorry. He’s gone.”

“Stop lying, stop lying. He’s right here,” Tony whispered dully, “Look, he’s fine. He’s not gone. He’s right here. I just have to wake him up.” 

“Tony-”

“He’s fine.” Tony adjusted the little body in his arms, hugging him tightly. “Isn’t that right, munchkin? You’re just fine.”

Rhodey couldn’t take it anymore. He threw up all over, heaving and crying. 

~~~~~

Tony wouldn’t let go of Peter. He just kept saying that he had to wake him up. He sat on the floor, holding his baby close, sometimes talking softly to Peter, sometimes singing soft Italian lullabies in a cracked voice, other times bargaining with Peter to wake himself up. “I’m so sorry, Petey, I was such a dumbass. But it’s- it’s okay now, kiddo, you can come back. I’m right here. I’ll wait however long it takes.”

Once Rhodey tried to pull the dead boy from his arms, and Tony snarled, saying, “It’s my job to protect him. You can’t. You can’t do it. It’s my job,” and hugging Peter tighter.

Finally Rhodey realized that he needed to use different measures. And god, it hurt him so much, so fucking much to do it, but he had to.

Kneeling next to the empty shell of what once his happy (ever since Peter came along), bright, genius best friend, he said, “Hey, Tones. I- I know how to wake Peter up.” 

Nausea rolled through him at the manic hope in the man’s eyes.

“Really? You do? Did you hear that, Petey, Rhodey knows how to wake you up!” he cried maniacally. 

“Yeah, I- I do, Tones. But I have to- I have to take him away. For it to work.”

Oh god, I’m so sorry, Tony.

“Take him away?” Tony frowned. Rhodey was disgusted at himself for praying that Tony agreed. “You can wake him up? Bring him back?” Rhodey nodded.

“Okay... baby, did you hear that? Rhodey has to take you away to get you back, but I promise I’ll be right there when he does. Okay? Just one thing- I love you so so much, Peter. Never forget.”

He squeezed the boy’s body one last time, but not before peppering kisses all over his face. Finally, he nodded at Rhodey, who hesitated, then took Peter out of Tony’s willing arms. Tony, who believed with all his heart and soul that he could fix this. 

“Bring back my kid,” he muttered, cracking a broken, haunted smile.

“Oh Tony,” Rhodey whispered. I’m sorry, Tones.

~~~~~

Tony was furious when Rhodey didn’t bring his son’s body back. His broken mind thought it was a stupid game.

Rhodey tried to explain, over and over, that Peter was gone, he wasn’t coming back, but Tony didn’t believe that, couldn’t believe that.

He demanded Rhodey bring Peter to him. “You said you’d fix him! You promised! Where is he?!”

“He’s gone. He’s gone, Tony.”

Gone? Peter couldn’t be gone.

Because that meant no more sleepy cuddles 

No more laughter

No more carrying an asleep Peter to bed

No more marathoning Star Wars movies

No more baking cookies

No more happiness

No more tesoro

No more bambino

No more Peter                                                             

And a world without Peter wasn’t a world at all

~~~~~

Tony’s grief-addled mind alternated between screaming his loss for hours (oftentimes having to be sedated), and thinking that Peter was still there, still alive, still bright and shining, thinking they were hiding his baby from him.

“Rhodey, where’s Peter, where’s Peter? When can I see Peter?!”

“I need him, Rhodey, give him back! Rhodey! Why are you hiding him from me? This isn’t funny! Give him back to me! PETER!”

~~~~~

Five days later, days full of grief and anguish and screaming, they lost Tony, too.

The official cause of the man’s death was heart failure.

But those close to him knew the truth. Because in this world, Peter and Tony belonged together, father and son. And without Peter, Tony would die. 

So he did.

There was no point of living in a world without his baby

~~~~~

/DO NOT TAG OR REBLOG AS ST*RKER/

[reynesofcastamere]

Distorted Supernova

(A/N: For context, this is set about a year or so prior to the previous installments in this series. Also, the readmore is going directly under my notes this time. Just to be safe. Warnings for bad partner/BDSM etiquette, biting, blood, orgasm denial, and some autoerotic asphyxiation. Not Safe For Work. Mando’a translations are marked with [ ]. Unbeta’d.)

Ahsoka’s nails scrabble desperately against the headboard, seeking a better grip while Maul- “Ah!” Sharp pressure on the pulsing bud between her thighs. He’s never been shy about sinking his teeth into every possible inch of her body, or pushing the boundaries of her endurance to the point where pain and pleasure blur. Her moans rise and crest, trailing off into a hiss when he grinds the slippery nub between his incisors. He hasn’t broken the skin, but it’s still just a bit too much.  She’s trembling as he eases up gradually, the long swipes of his tongue soothing one ache and inflaming another. If he could just keep doing that...But no, he’s withdrawing again, licking the traces of her from his lips as he surveys his ‘handiwork’. The long expanse of skin between collarbone and lower thighs bears a liberal scattering of bruises and bites, flush with desire and exertion while her breath comes in ragged gasps. Ahsoka has no idea how long she’s been kept on the edge, completion just out of reach. And the Force...There is no separation here, no sharp divide between Dark and Light. Only energy, freezing and sparking all at once. Ahsoka can feel his hunger as if it is a monster from one of the stories that the younglings used to tell each other, something that could swallow her whole in one gulp. Maul certainly looks the part, white teeth stark against darkly-patterned skin, auric eyes glowing in the dim light. It is in a near-haze that she watches him shift and lower his mouth to hers, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders as if moving through water instead of air. She tastes herself on him while their tongues duel and twine, humming as he growls, her fingers raking down his back. Her hips cant slightly, seeking friction that he quickly denies her, and she tears herself viciously away from their kiss to scowl up at him.  “What kind of game are you playing?” And it is a game. She is in his room, his bed for the first time since this whole...affair started. On top of that, he’s deliberately drawing things out when his usual method is to have her coming hard, fast, and as many times as possible. As if, in some corner of his twisted mind, it is both a punishment for not remaining at his side and a reminder of what he does to her. Which right now consists of smirking and a decidedly-pleased gleam in his eyes. “I had wondered when your much-vaunted patience would finally reach its’ limit.” Maul chuckles, not even having the decency to be startled when she flips them over, glaring intensely. The smug bastard actually purrs when she pins his hands down. Of course he’d enjoy working her into a state of half-maddened arousal and refuse to let her climax until she gives him what he wants. These emotions give him power over her, after all. “I can still leave at any time.” Ahsoka warns sharply. It’s the most effective threat she can utilize against him right now. “You need this more than I do. Now finish what you started.” She gives his wrists a sharp squeeze before letting go, making him watch as she sits back, bracing herself with one hand; the other spreading her core open and slipping two fingers inside. “Or I will.” Groaning through clenched teeth, eyes fluttering shut. Her sex is drenched, sensitive, and aching. So much so that she gets caught up in the sensation of touching herself, of finally getting the relief so desperately sought-after. “You are learning.” Oh Maker, she hadn’t even noticed- His breath against her already-molten cunt was like adding illerium to a bonfire. Then his tongue slips inside and his thumb is giving just the right amount of pressure on her nub to-Ahsoka Tano screams, body twitching and thrashing beyond her means to control it. She careens from one sensation to the next, any small movement within herself seeming to trigger another wave of pleasure-pain-pleasure-more until, after a small eternity, it finally ebbs.  Her eyes open, breath shaking as she carefully withdraws her fingers and re-adjusts her position. This time, she does feel her sometimes-lover move underneath her, until she is once again straddling his hips. Maul looks...approving. As if her actions had brought her another step closer to the Dark, to being ‘his’. Never. He can keep trying to drag her very being into the deepest pits imaginable. Ahsoka will still fight her way out, every time.  The double-beep of her wrist-comm interrupts these thoughts, moving as quickly as she can to retrieve it from the nightstand and kneel on the edge of the bed. “Receiving.”

“This is Dash. See any sharks where you’re fishing?” Asks a female voice with a rounded Mid Rim accent.  “There’s a fin in the water, but it’s far off. Sea’s calm and the skies are clear. How about you?” Ahsoka verifies after performing the mandatory checks. She can’t afford to take her current location or whatever signal-scrambling tech the Shadow Collective might have in place for granted. Not when so much is on the line. “Weather’s fine where I am.” There’s a brief pause, but it’s enough for Maul to insinuate himself behind her. Before she can even think to ask what he’s doing, she’s being dragged backwards into his lap and-He’s filling her in one stroke, cold metal pressing against her rear and the back of her thighs. “There’s a situation on Corellia.” Maul’s right hand is already around her throat, his left arm keeping her arms bent and pinned to her chest. Of all the-! She mutes the comm still in her hands. “Stop.” Ahsoka instructs in a low hiss, suppressing a moan when she feels him start moving. The first penetration usually takes a bit of...adjustment for them both. Right now he barely has to put any strength into his thrusts to reach her deepest point. 

“No.” He snarls in response, cutting off her air for a few moments before relaxing his grip again.. “I have to take this!” “Then I suggest you do so quickly.” “I’m not going to let you-”  “Having signal problems? Please respond.” Oh, kark it all. She has seconds to make a decision and her options are limited. Either 1) she has Dash call back later, and risk the unknown situation getting worse. 2) Fight Maul to a standstill and then continue the call, which will not be easy or quick to accomplish, or. 3) Be extremely unprofessional, let him...take her, and hope that she can get all the pertinent details without the agent on the other end of the line figuring out what is going on. With a shaky exhale, Ahsoka turns off the mute function. “Just a brief patch of interference. What kind of situation?” How. Just. How in the name of the Mortis gods is she getting aroused? He’s only circling his hips right now, barely stirring up her insides, fingers applying enough intermittent pressure on the sides of her neck to slow the flow of blood to her brain. Her body should be rejecting every part of this, but instead her core is trying to pull him in deeper. “The kind that requires an extraction and some smash-and-grab.” Dash replies. “There’s a team assembling on Devaron. How soon can you be there?” Ahsoka has to bite down on her lower lip to silence a moan, running the calculations in her head. “Just under a week in hyperspace. Five days if I can swap for a better ship.” She might even be able to do it without selling a limb. Provided she doesn’t kill Maul after this.  Dash hums as she thinks it over. “Not great, but it’ll have to do. How’s your condition? Heard you got sent to deal with the Broker again.” Oh, Sithspawn. Ahsoka is going to have to speak very carefully if she doesn’t want the agent on the other end of the line to wind up dead. Or worse. Most of the people she works with most closely might not know exactly who ‘the Broker’ is, but they don’t have...a great opinion of Maul. For various and completely justified reasons. One of which is that Fulcrum comes back from their meetings generally looking like someone dragged her through a field of salt crystals on Crait. Bacta patches and the Force can only do so much.  Ahsoka doesn’t know for certain if the Rebellion has figured out the exact level of their...involvement by now. Of course, she could have avoided that particular complication by not sleeping with him in the first place, but it’s too late for that. “I’m-” He cuts off her air temporarily again, biting hard just underneath her jaw. She hisses, feeling the blood well up and be laved away just as quickly. “-fine.” The grip relaxes, though she can feel him starting to pick up the pace. “I need coordinates and details for the mission.” “Sure thing. Just, look, I know we need all the help we can get, but maybe you should take backup next time. Or assign someone else to him for a bit. Can’t outrun Imps if you’ve basically gone five rounds with a Wookiee.” Maul goes deathly still as the Dark Side surges. In a fit of desperation, she angles her head to kiss him, hoping that his need will outweigh any thoughts of murder and/or dismemberment. Ahsoka can only give half her attention to the numbers and facts being listed off, because he is utterly determined to possess her mouth like it’s the only thing keeping him alive right now. Eventually, she manages to pull back. “That’s everything. Any questions?” Dash asks, forcing her fellow intelligence operative to internally review what she’d heard and made certain it was correct. “No. Everything is affirmative. Fulcrum out.” The second she cuts the call, he pulls out, only to flip and turn her onto her back. Maul enters her ruthlessly this time, muffling her cry with his mouth. It’s this desperate clash of tongue and teeth interspersed with broken gasps as her limbs wind around his body, fingers clawing at his shoulderblades. Then suddenly her lips are skimming the side of his neck and biting down as he hammers into a spot that makes her arch in sheer, carnal rapture. He roars like a ravening beast as his blood fills her mouth. fisting his hands in the sheets near her hips. “Ner darasuum cuyan. [My eternal survivour]” He breathes. While she does not understand the words, Maul’s tone borders on...On worship, and his eyes- Climax overwhelms her, sudden and bordering on agony as he follows and they’re howling like Sriluurian dark wolves in the enclosed space... Ahsoka comes back to herself with Maul’s head resting in the valley between her breasts. Gripping some of his posterior horns, she forces him to meet her hard gaze. “Do not. Ever. Do that again.” She holds her grip and her stare long enough to make certain he understands that this is one of the boundaries that he cannot ignore or abuse at a whim. If he crosses the line again, she will leave or make him wish he’d never touched her in the first place. Possibly both. “As you command, Lady Tano.” Maul acquiesces as he pulls out of her, but otherwise continues to stay in the position of being a very odd blanket once she releases him. “I was not aware that your Alliance considers you so weak as to need protection from me.” He remarks in an offhanded fashion, nose scrunching in slight distaste.  She gives a long, exasperated sigh. “It’s not like that.” “Explain.” He counters, head slightly tilted and brow raised. “Very few people know that I’m meeting with you. Or what our actual history is.” This day is now officially bizarre, even by her standards. “They see me going off to bargain with a shady underworld contact and coming back-most of the time- limping or covered in minor injuries.” And this is where the explanation might get tricky. “So the general consensus is either that I’m letting you abuse me because I���m being ordered to...Or that you’re strong enough that I can’t stop it from happening.” Those who do know his identity think he’s been trying to murder her and failing at it for one reason or another, but that’s hardly an important detail. “Ridiculous. You would not have lived this long if these scratches-” His left thumb idly traces a mark on her ribcage.”-were enough to incapacitate you.” Which, coming from him, is...Almost sweet? In any case, she doesn’t have the time to ponder his mood. Ahsoka steals a brief kiss from him and carefully sits up. “Careful, that was almost an actual compliment. Think you can lend me a ride?” She teases, extracting herself out from under him to start the process of cleaning up and getting dressed. “I was mistaken. Clearly you are a terrified, delicate waif who wilts at the mere thought of my displeasure.” Maul deadpans, getting up to retrieve a disposable datapad and typing something into it, handing it to her before beginning to set himself to rights. “Give that to Kast. She should be in the hangar at this time.”  “Thank you.” They both finish up quickly, but before she can leave, he cups her jaw in one hand and presses their foreheads together. His eyes are hooded, but no less intense for it. “Oya, cuyan. Meh gar kyrayc, shuk bah ni. [Stay alive, survivour. You’re no use to me dead] ”  “You know I don’t speak Mando’a.” “Then I shall keep my advantage until you learn, atin jetii [stubborn Jedi] .” He’s actually smiling for once as his hand drops and he lets her pass out of his private domain. Back into the light, where her duties wait.   (A/N: Good GRIEF this thing is a monster. X_X  Apologies for any butchering of Mando’a. Also, for context, ‘Oya’ is one of those words with multiple meanings, including ‘Let’s hunt!’, but is generally used as a cheer or encouragement. I simply went with the meaning that worked best for that particular line. And...ok, I probably DON’T need to clarify this, but I feel like I should? Since they’re using the Force to share some level of emotional and physical sensation, it doesn’t matter whether Maul has his original equipment, an attachable toy, or a prosthesis. So long as Ahsoka climaxes, he does too. Or at least, that’s how it works out in my writing. XD Anyway, hope you all enjoyed and cheers to everyone.)

[xthefandomequestrianx]

Psycho - Chapter 1

I have no idea where to post this but I want to get it out of my folder!

A/N: Yes, I am aware that this is not quite how things happened chronologically. For the sake of the fic, we’re going to pretend that Elle went to Allie and begged to be arrested pretty soon after Dewey’s execution. Kay? Kay. Also I’m not a huge Will fan so he’ll be meh in this. Sorry.

Trigger warnings: injuries, torture, abuse, Campbell is a jerk, swearing because they swear like every line, slight mention of rape

Ship(s): Allie and pretty much everyone (platonically), Allie x Harry, Allie & Grizz (as a brotp)

Chapter 1

Allie winced as she felt a large chunk of her thumb nail rip off, before the stinging sensation of air hitting an open wound filled her senses. She’d been trying to wear through the rope tightly binding her wrists behind her back, but obviously had no such luck.

The day had started out normal, as any other day. She skipped breakfast in favor of a quick check up on Harry, whom anyone had yet to manage to drag out of his depressive state. After her doling out her tough love, he did start working again, though very reluctantly and lacking any effort. Then she’d gone back home and talked extensively with Will and Gordy about the issues of water and electricity - namely, how they would check if they were in danger of running out. Then lunch, where she had a nice conversation with Helena that for once did not revolve around politics. She’d only slipped away for a second to use the bathroom when suddenly he was there, knocking her out with a crowbar and stuffing her in his car.

And that was the quickly-escalating, climactic story of how she’d wound up in Campbell Eliot’s basement.

She knew why she was here, of course. He wanted to force Elle back home, where he could continue to control and abuse her. How he figured he would accomplish this by kidnapping her was uncertain, but she knew his end goal.

“Hey there, princess,” he traipsed down the steps into the basement. “Enjoying your stay?”

She glared at him. “I’m not your house guest, Campbell. You kidnapped me. Get to the point.”

“Feisty. Strong,” he smirked. “Every bit the leader. Except for this time, you get to be my captive. How does it feel?”

“What do you want?” she restated, biting out the words. Perhaps she was being dumb, speaking to him in such a tone while he clearly held the upper hand in this scenario. God, she wished for the Guard to notice her absence. But she’d only been awake for about fifteen minutes, plus about half an hour of being unconscious, she’d guess. Unfortunately, the former West Ham football team didn’t have enough experience in detective work to solve that one in forty five minutes.

“I am asking the questions, here!” He growled. “Tell me, Allie. How. Does. It. Feel?”

She caught a glint of something under his jacket sleeve. Brass knuckles. Fuck.

“Cold,” she said simply. He’d taken most of her outerwear, leaving her in leggings and a t-shirt.

“Not the answer I was hoping for, but I’ll take it. Was that so hard?” His smirk widened - the sick bastard was clearly enjoying this.

She’d been told he was a psychopath, heard the things he had done to Elle, and seen him be an asshole on more occasions than she could count. But this was an entirely new side to him that she had yet to see. It truly scared her, rattled her insides. The word psychopath gained a whole new meaning. “What do you want?” she repeated. Her voice trembled, but she pretended not to notice. The hot tears threatening to fall also went ignored.

“Fair enough - you answer one of mine, and I’ll answer one of yours.” He stepped towards where she was sitting on the ground. “I was going to tell you, anyways. I want a lot of things from you, Allie Pressman. You’re a whiny little bitch who only gets to lead us because of your dead sister. You’ve taken so much from me.”

She couldn’t believe that he actually had the nerve to play the victim card. Here, while she was tied up in his basement.

He continued. “But for now - all that I want right now - is my girlfriend back. You better return her to me.”

She glared up at him, trying to appear strong. “Never,” she spat.

The brass knuckles flew at her before she could even blink, crashing into her cheek and causing her head to snap to the side. It took her a moment to reorient herself, and she felt a trail of blood trickling down her face.

“You will do as I say,” he warned in a deadly tone.

She nodded. If she were a fighter, she would deny him, taking what she got and always standing strong. However she was a survivor, and while someone else might say that they were one in the same, that was simply untrue. A fighter fought until the end, while a survivor didn’t come to an end. Some called it intelligence and some called it cowardice, but she was a survivor. “What are you going to do to me?” she asked. She needed to keep getting information out of him - it was her best shot.

“You see, I need to send a message. Campbell Eliot is not someone to be messed with. You have taken from me the girl I love, who I swore to protect, and that’s not going to fly. I’m not going to kill you, Allie. You’ll only wish you were dead.”

She didn’t have time to respond as he kicked her hard in the side. She screamed as she felt something crack.

He tutted. “I thought you would be stronger than that. I guess you’re really just soft behind your big, bad Guard.”

“Fuck you,” she said, though her voice lacked gusto.

“Fuck you, too.” He kicked her again, this time in the back. “Sit up.”

She remained on the ground.

He stomped on her leg. “I said sit up!”

Doing her best to ignore the pain she felt, she slid herself back into a sitting position against the wall.

“You all need to know just how wrong you were.” The fist bearing the brass knuckles crashed into her jaw. “All of you.” He drove them into her stomach, so far that his fist was probably an inch from the wall she was sitting against.

She spat blood, praying for it to be due to the hit to her jaw rather than something internal.

He laughed, like he found all of this extremely funny. “You’re fucking useless, Allie. Do something! Sam’s fucking pet bird had more fight than you!”

She didn’t answer.

“Make this more fun,” he demanded.

She stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes. What in the hell did he mean by that? She had a feeling that she wasn’t going to like it.

He groaned, as if she were causing him an inconvenience. “Jesus christ.” He roughly grabbed her forearm, hauling her to her feet and causing her to scream in pain. “You’ve got five seconds to run to that door at the top of the steps. If you make it, you can go. If you don’t, then we get to keep playing. How does that sound? Fair?”

She stared at him stonily. “Fuck. You. None of this is fair and you know it, even in your sick, psychotic brain.”

“Ready, set, go.” He released her arm, causing her to stumble forwards.

Luckily, she stayed on her feet. She didn’t want to play his stupid torture games. But if she had even a small chance of getting out… She ran.

“Four.”

She quickly found that her right leg didn’t work very well. She pushed herself on and from the amount of effort it took she felt like she should be running. She knew that it probably looked more like a drunken speed walk.

“Three.”

Halfway there, but she still had to tackle the stairs. She urged herself on.

“Two.”

Her heart pumped faster every time his voice echoed. The countdown was terrifying, as she raced to the door knowing what was to come if she didn’t make it.

“One.”

She was halfway up the stairs when he charged for her, grabbing her and throwing her back down them like a ragdoll.

Through her blurry vision, she longingly stared at the door. The tears flowed freely down her face now.

His form, towering over her, filled her vision. She tried to turn away, but he leant down over her, holding her face in his hand. His thumb wiped some of the blood off of her lip. His face got close to hers, far too close, and he whispered, “My plan doesn’t need for you to die, Allie. It just doesn’t depend on you being alive, either.”

Her breath hitched as she understood his meaning. He didn’t care if she survived this. In fact, he might just kill her for the fun of it. “They’ll hunt you down,” she whispered. “If you kill me.”

“Without you, the town would descend into chaos. They might come looking for me, but I have a backup plan. I thrive in chaos. Eventually, it would be me leading. But I’m not looking for that… just yet, at least. I. Just. Want. My. Girlfriend. Back.”

It took her foggy brain a few seconds longer than it should have to realize that he was undoing her pants.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Grizz says. “Fucking hell. How did we lose her? I thought at least one of us was supposed to be with her at all times!”

“We were,” Jason defended.

“Well she didn’t just vanish into thin air!” Grizz growled back.

Gordy groaned. “And no one has seen her?”

Luke shook his head, confirming. “Helena was with Allie last. She said that she had excused herself to the restroom and then never came back. After that, no one has seen her.”

“She should know better than to slip away without one of us,” Clark sighed, though he was more frustrated with themselves for not paying closer attention than with Allie for wanting to use the freaking bathroom by herself.

Gordy groaned. “This is bad. Why would she just disappear?”

Luke shrugged. “Helena said she was fine while they were talking. Even seemed happy.”

“What do we do?” Grizz asked, arms crossed.

They quieted. As they were only in the very beginning of forming a functioning government, they had neglected to come up with any sort of protocol for missing people. It had simply not been in their minds primarily due to the fact that no one had actually gone missing yet. Even back in West Ham, the old one, due to the upper class families residing there rarely had to deal with such matters.

“What do they do, like, on tv?” Clark suggested.

“They call the cops,” Grizz said.

“Dude,” Luke groaned. “We are the cops.”

Grizz nodded, realizing. “Well, fuck.”

“Will you stop saying that?” Jason said.

“Guys!” Clark said, sharply. “They usually have posters, bring in witnesses…”

Gordy’s eyes widened, a light bulb going off in his head. “A search party.”

The others nodded in approval.

“Okay,” Gordy breathed. “So we’ll assemble a search party and meet in the church. Okay?”

“Let’s go,” Luke agreed. They got to work.

Allie laid on the cold, hard basement floor. She wanted to think about how she would escape and get away from him. She wanted to think about running up the basement steps and sneaking through the house, successfully avoiding her captor and making it through the front door and then down the street before he went to check on her and noticed she was gone.

If she were the strong, smart leader she pretended to be then that’s exactly what she would be doing. If she were her sister.

But she wasn’t her sister. She wasn’t the brave leader guiding the town through their mysterious misfortunes. She was a young girl, doing her best to help people because she was told that it had to be her. So she lay still on the floor, pain filling her senses from inside out, the only thing she could feel. This was certainly a step up from when she broke her ankle as a kid, she thought humorlessly.

It must have been another twenty, thirty minutes before he came back down into the basement. She didn’t dread his return as much as she thought she should. Anything other than sitting alone with her pain and fear.

“Get up,” he ordered.

She whimpered in response. How did he expect her to do so, exactly? She’d inventoried the damage done to her body while she was alone. The pain in her side probably meant a broken rib or three, confirmed by the snap she’d heard when he kicked her. Her right ankle was broken, or at least sprained, and further down she registered pain in her toes. Her head still hurt, probably from the initial assault with the crowbar. Her face hurt, her stomach, and she could feel the bruises littered all over the rest of her body every time she breathed too hard.

“Get up!” he screamed. She winced for the blow, but it never came. Apparently he was satisfied with the injuries he had already caused her.

Against the protest coming from her body, she held her breath as she moved to a sitting position.

“Wow, Allie.” He smirked. “You look like shit.”

“Go to hell,” she inhaled sharply as her ribs moved.

He watched her struggle, and she disturbingly remembered the bird story Sam had shared from their childhood. She was the bird, and he was watching in amusement as her stubs where there used to be wings refused to fly her away. She hated playing the role in his twisted, sick game but was fearful of what he would do if she disobeyed.

She tried to stand, but was sent crashing back to the ground. “Up,” he demanded.

She tried again, this time with more success. But with a laugh and a kick to her left shin - the one bearing her weight - she was back on the ground. A sob rose in her throat.

“Get. Up!” He looked angry now, and she hurried to get back on her feet. It wasn’t working so well.

Impatient, he grabbed her arm and hoisted her up. He dragged her as she stumbled up the steps and out of the basement. He roughly caught her every time her body gave out and she nearly fell, shoving her back upright and continuing on. To her surprise, they exited the horrid house she hoped to never see again and he pulled her over to his car. The one he’d kidnapped her in.

“In,” he said. She did as she was told, with only a little reluctant assistance from him. He got in the driver's’ seat, starting the car.

“Wh-where are we going?” she asked.

He leaned across the center console, grinning. “To deliver my message, princess. You all have twenty four hours to return Elle to me, or I will come back. And I will kill you.”

The threat should have been terrifying, sending shivers down her spine. However the only thing she felt was relief. He was bringing her back home.

The search party met in the church, Gordy briefing everyone on the little bit that they knew. He looked around the room from where he stood in the front. Obviously, the Guard - Luke, Jason, Clark, and Grizz - were there in their matching jackets. Standing next to Luke was Helena, and behind her Kelly.

“Is that everyone coming?” Gordy asked.

“Everyone joining in the search,” Luke shrugged. “Everyone else knows that she’s missing and to keep an eye out.”

Gordy rolled his eyes. He knew that his hometown was filled with unmotivated, emotionally stunted slackers raised in the lap of luxury, however it had never been more apparent to him than it did in that moment. Maybe this New Ham thing was the universe’s way of giving them some much-needed character growth. It was certainly an idea he’d toyed with in the past, and he would’ve considered it longer if he actually believed in a higher power.

Another person slipped in the back, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and looking out of place.

“Come to help?” Gordy asked. All heads turned to see who he was addressing.

Harry nodded. “Kelly told me she was missing.”

Will stood up from where he was sitting. “I don’t trust him,” he glared at Harry. “How do we know that he hasn’t done something to her?”

Harry put his hands up. “I haven’t done anything. Really - I’m here to help.”

Will still looked skeptical, but Kelly ended the issue by saying, “Look, Harry’s barely been pulling himself out of bed long enough to work his shifts. I don’t think he has it in him to plan a kidnapping or whatever this is. No offense, Harry.”

Harry shrugged, “Slight offense, but not undeserved.”

Gordy snapped his fingers, directing their attention back to the issue at hand. “Okay, so here’s the plan…”

The sound of an engine revving outside drowned out the rest of that sentence, effectively drawing their attention away from the meeting. The sound was soon accompanied by a blaring horn.

“What the-” Helena stood from her seat, walking quickly to the door to see what was going on. The others followed, Luke jogging ahead to be with her at the front.

In the church parking lot was the familiar black jeep belonging to Campbell. And in the passenger seat sat the very girl they were searching for.

“Allie!” Grizz yelled.

Before they could react, the passenger door was opened and Allie was roughly shoved out onto the street, Campbell speeding away like a madman (which was actually very in character for him).

The group all sprinted over to Allie, who still hadn’t gotten up.

[prevaricatcr]

‹ TARON EGERTON, HE/HIM, CISMALE, BISEXUAL.  ›  ELLIOT GALLAGHER is the TWENTY SIX year old from SANTA MONICA, CALIFORNIA. when a friend asked them what they thought of the manor they said,  ❝ MIGHT AS FUCKIN’ WELL, RIGHT? GONNA HATE MY LIFE EITHER WAY, MIGHT AS WELL DO IT WITH SOME SCENERY. ❞ they claim FUNNY GAMES is their favorite scary movie, and if they were to die in a horror film they would TAUNT THE KILLER AND GET WHACKED FOR IT. their fears include DRIVING A CAR, WRITHING SNAKES and PUPPETS, and they don’t know we know, but… HE’S PAID OFF MULTIPLE WOMEN WHO HAVE HAD HIS CHILDREN. hope they enjoy their stay.  ‹  MUSE A from HOLLYWOOD’S BLEEDING penned by, Z, 25+, CST.  ›

- - - - - - - BASICS.

Name: Elliot Rian Gallagher. Pronouns: He, him. Nicknames: n/a Age: Twenty-six. Birthdate: April 18th. Zodiac: Aries sun, taurus moon, gemini rising. Ethnicity: white, his father's grandparents were second generation irish and his mother always stated that her parents came from Sandusky, and didn't know more than that. Nationality: American. Birthplace: Santa Monica, CA Gender: Cis Male. Sexual Orientation: Bisexual.

- - - - - - - BACKGROUND.

Parents: Craig Robert Gallagher; 58 years old, alive. Teresa Dawn Shwitzer-Gallagher ; 52 years old, alive Siblings: 2 older siblings, a boy and a girl, and two younger sisters. Spouse: n/a. Children: 3 by different mothers, whom he sends monthly allowances to. He makes it his business not to know any more. Current Job: out of work musician. Dream Career: to be back on top of his game, winning grammies like he used to. Schooling: Attended Crossroads in Santa Monica on and off, eventually graduated with lots of monetary assistance. Income: Receives pay from royalties from the band he was in as a teenager that kicked him out.

- - - - - - - PHYSICAL.

Height: 5'8". Weight: 160 lb. Eye Color: Blue. Hair Color: Dark brown. Hair Length: Fairly short. Hair Type: On the thinner side, with some wave. Body Type: Fairly skinny, with small hips and waist. A little thicker around the midsection with his short stint of sobriety. Clothing Size: Medium to large. Shoe Size: Size 11 Complexion: Very pale, freckles fairly easy, burns very easy. Scars: scars and calluses on his hands, a puckered scar on his temple half hidden by his hair, and a scar on his right hip from a bad car accident, his knees are assessed as much older than himself because of how poorly he treats them combined with genetics, and a long scar on the left side of his back.

- - - - - - - PERSONALITY.

Positive Traits: adventurous, charming, direct, passionate, sociable, competitive, creative, lively, versatile. Negative Traits: volatile, extravagant, defensive, envious, juvenile, wasteful, unreliable, vulgar, pessimistic. Mental Condition: Currently drinking again and using cocaine along with a few prescription pills after attempting out-patient rehab and tapering down his drinking, which he's been addicted to since age fourteen. No officially assessed disorders or conditions besides his alcoholism. Struggles with intimacy while sober. Emotional Condition: Fragile, filled with guilt and self loathing after relapse. Sees trust as more important than love and is very guarded with what he considers his innermost self. Likes: All black outfits, sunglasses, a tall glass of boulevard when he's drinking to taste it, people that make him laugh out loud, old school SNL, the fine tuning of behind the camera work, treating the people he cares about to nice things, arguing about oscars prospects for any given film, penny slot machines, jokes that make people groan loudly. Dislikes: lazy jokes about addiction, late night talk shows, people who look at him and see his misdeeds and not who he is as a person, "lizard people" conspiracy theories, elevator music, plastic covers on mattresses, the concept of an all seeing, all knowing god, TMZ, the smell of industrial cleaner. Strengths: intelligent, ambitious, sincere, passionate, generous, philosophical. Weaknesses: reckless, impatient, cowardly, detached, foolhardy, irresponsible. Fears/phobias: sobriety, letting someone see every single part of him, allowing himself to be vulnerable when sober, having hallucinations, driving a car. Hobbies: little to none as his primary hobby has always been drinking, mostly reading and watching movies. Quirks: fiddling with his glasses, biting the inside of his cheek, humming any song that comes through his mind out loud when he's distracted or concentrating hard on something.

- - - - - - - HISTORY.

!!! possible triggers in the following biography: drug use, alcohol abuse and alcoholism, driving while intoxicated, car accidents, parental neglect of children !!! You are two and a half when you land your first commercial. Your younger sisters managed their first roles before you, but it was a little easier for them as they were infant twins; far more in demand than just a tiny toddler boy. This is how your family eats and keeps themselves in an apartment in Santa Monica that's meant to house three when your family eventually grows to hold seven in total. A lot of mouths to feed. Thankfully you don't remember a lot of this, as the small time work you and your siblings do is enough to keep your family afloat. You make your way into middle school; pissed and stand offish and looking like a cherub; which insures that no one takes you seriously. The friends you make, you hold tightly to, and you kick around in your best friend Boston’s basement, just fooling around on his parents drum kit, their guitars that aren’t actually supposed to be touched. It’s all just for fun, the band and the EP you slap together; just trying to impress each other, until one of Bos’ parents finds someone who wants to sign the band. Everyone tells you over and over again, that this is the deal of a life time. That this will make sure you work in Hollywood for the rest of your life. This is both true, and untrue. The EP is an unmitigated success, and every review has something to say about you, the kid on bass with backup vocals who’s face looks barely legal but plays like he’s planning a murder. Almost everyone remarks on how much older than your few years you seem. Which at first makes you feel special, important. Makes you seek out big words to use when you're sitting on the couch as a guest. The audience really loves that. Of course, this also spawns those times when you end up at wrap parties and after parties, your mother schmoozing whatever producers and execs she can find, your father nowhere to be found, and a sea of adults getting high and wasted around you. None of the vices of Hollywood have ever been all that strange to you, though. Your parents have always had a very blase approach to the innocence of childhood, and didn't much care to shield you from anything. It’s still all fun and games, really. The five of you have too much fun, and everyone wants to treat you to everything, so. Somehow the option you end up choosing most often is the bottle in your hand. The bottles that are so readily available, everywhere, that get pressed into your hands and put into the end of the night goodie bags your mother always takes three of. You think that waking up in an unfamiliar bed every single night of a week is something the rest of your bandmates are doing. It’s all a laugh, we all drink and we all smoke and it’s kid shit, right Boston? You learn that it very much is just a ‘you’ thing when you come to rehearsal (late, as usual) one Thursday afternoon and they’re all somberly waiting for you, hands in their lap and silent. You are being released from your contract with Cthulhu Rising...but the band has elected to move on and create their debut album. Unfortunately at this point you are eighteen and very, very deeply entrenched in alcoholism. The press has been playing you as a party boy who enjoys simple teenage excess for a very long time, but it's starting to wear thin. TMZ is growing a lot less glowing in their articles. You try not to pay attention even as you get yourself thrown out of clubs and tossed into drunk tanks and bailed back out again by whichever assistant your mother has hired this week. As long as you can find a way to make music, you can keep breathing. But with your growing notoriety, offers start to dry up. Those late night shows that loved your precociousness take pot shots at you in their opening monologues. Kimmel's pre-taped Lonely Island style sketch about 'you' endorsing a brand of gin in the style of I Love Lucy gets over a million views on youtube. All of Hollywood, and by extension all the world is laughing at you. It get a little less funny when you ram your matte black Lamborghini Aventador into the median taking the exit for Interstate 10, pinball off of it and into the car in the lane next to you, back into the median hard enough to flip your car into a roll, tumbling side over side across the lanes into the ditch. Your blood test results at the hospital show your blood alcohol content was nearly triple the legal limit. The accident doesn't kill you, though it's a close thing. You're convinced the recovery is worse. The total at the end adds up to a fractured pelvis, six broken ribs, safety glass embedded in your left temple, lacerations all over your arms and face, bleeding in your lungs and swelling in the brain that leaves you in a coma for the better part of two weeks. The most pathetic part of it all? All of that, the things you don't remember from that day coupled with the bursts and flashes of what you do remember, the year and a half you spend in recovery still isn't enough to make you put the bottle down forever. And doesn't that just make you fucking hate yourself?

[chromecutie]

Not A Ghost - part 25

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Taglist: @emma-frxst  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @holamor ​  @empressme-bitch  @marvel-is-perfection  @hazilyimagine ​ @marvelhead17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash ​ @whitewitchdown ​ @master-sass-blast ​ @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen @emberbent @leo-writer . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

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“Mr. Pool, you were right about upgrading to a minivan,” a younger man with an Indian accent said after giving Piotr and Rhonda awkward greetings. “It fits your friends much better than my cab did.” Cheerful music played on the radio, possibly from a Bollywood movie. 

Wade answered from the front passenger seat, “With the stow-and-go seating, too! Good choice, Dopinder, you can fit so many more bodies in the trunk this way!” 

With Piotr in the second row of seats, Rhonda was in the very back, scrunched between the window and Cable. She asked under her breath, “How often are you dealing with bodies?”

“Not as much as I’d like to!” Wade called over his shoulder, face covered with his red mask. “What are you even doing here? Separation anxiety? Do you need one of those thunder vests they give nervous dogs?”

Piotr said, “She is, let’s say, emergency backup.” He turned in his seat as much as he could and offered his wife a half-smile.

In the seat next to Piotr, a woman with her hair pinned into something like a mohawk turned and said with a casual demeanor, “Wade is bad at introductions. I’m Domino. Hi.” The space in the van was too awkward to shake hands, but she waved and Rhonda returned the gesture.

“Rhonda,” she pointed loosely at Piotr’s steel shoulder. “His wife.”

“Yeah,” Domino had an easy smile like nothing ever bothered her. “I heard you busted out of the Icebox a few months back.”

She shrugged, “I didn’t ‘bust out’ so much as get lucky. We were in a transfer convoy, and they had us in these cases, right. Well, when the convoy got wrecked, my case got thrown around and busted enough that I could get out, so...here I am.”

“Transfer convoy?” Domino frowned, then laughed. “Oh my god! That was us, Wade, we were there! That’s twenty bucks you owe me.”

“Naaah, no, no, no, no,” he retorted, waving a finger, “That doesn’t sound like your luck powers to me--”

“How else would you explain it? We were there, I was lucking out at the top of my game to keep us alive, and your buddy’s wife, who we had no idea was there, just so happens to get free?” Domino’s hair bounced as she nodded her head and gestured emphatically.

“Or maaaaybeee,” Wade drawled, “luck had nothing to do with it and we’re just side characters in someone else’s story right now and--” 

“Uh-uh,” Domino insisted, “No. Do not launch into your whole conspiracy that we’re fictional characters, I cannot deal with that shit today.” She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms.

Rhonda leaned forward and whispered to Piotr, “[What the fuck is going on?]”

He turned his head and whispered in reply, “[Wade is strange and it’s best not to encourage him by asking a lot of questions.]”

Banter between Domino and Wade continued the rest of the drive. Every so often, Cable would roll his eyes and rumble, “Jesus,” next to Rhonda, or Piotr would admonish the others for their vulgar word choice. They ribbed each other, the way most teams will do in anticipation of a fight. It was a pattern sweetly familiar to Rhonda, and it was all she could do not to smile as she listened to their bickering. This wasn’t her team, as she had to consciously remind herself, but it felt surprisingly nice to be on the edge of it. 

Dopinder pulled into the truck stop, and parked near a row of eighteen-wheelers. This particular truck stop was some distance from any city and was nestled between the northbound and southbound sides of the interstate, rather than being set off to one side or the other. On the west and east side of the truck stop were a long row of parked eighteen-wheelers. A few of the trucks were unmarked, most were emblazoned with company logos, and one or two looked to be hauling a corrosive or flammable chemical. Between the rows of trucks were a McDonald’s to the south, diesel pumps to the north, and between were a large gas station and travel center with two dozen or so regular gas pumps.

In the central area, families were taking a rest in the middle of their road trips to tank up, get a late lunch, and restock on snacks. Wade and Domino hopped out of the minivan as if they were going to race to the gas pumps. Cable muttered a polite, “Excuse me,” to Rhonda as he grabbed his gear next to her and made his exit. 

Piotr stepped out of the car and leaned back in to give his wife a quick peck. “You will stay here?” he asked with a soft expression.

Rhonda bit her lip and nodded, confirming, “I will stay here.”

“Dopinder is good people. You can trust him.” He smiled and gave her one more kiss before he turned toward the parked trucks and gas pumps. Piotr squared his shoulders and stood at his full height, officially putting on his field duty face as Colossus. It was such a familiar image for Rhonda, and it tugged at her heart in ways she didn’t expect. As Colossus headed toward the rows of gas pumps, she called sternly after him, “Be careful!” 

Dopinder waited a whole minute in the tense silence of his car before speaking up, “Miss Rhonda, I’m going to get something at McDonald’s, do you want something?”

Rhonda’s gaze was locked onto the direction her husband had walked, even though she couldn’t see him after he disappeared behind a parked eighteen-wheeler. In the lengthening shadows of late afternoon, she thought she saw a shape move. “Do they still have the dollar menu?” she asked absently.

Dopinder returned with a chuckle, “Yes. I’m pretty sure if they ever got rid of that there would be riots!” 

“Maybe an apple pie or something?” she replied. “I’m not picky. Thanks...”

When Dopinder slipped out of the driver’s seat to walk over to the burger joint, Rhonda waited another minute or two until she was sure he wouldn’t see her. She left the car and headed toward the rows of parked trucks. 

She kept her stance loose as she walked, arms swinging at her sides, head high enough to look confident like she knew exactly where she was going. Row after row, she checked between the trucks, a feeling tugging at her that she would find what she was looking for on one of these rows.

Finally, she heard a pair of voices - both very deep, one with more gravelly grit to it than the other. Without making a sound, Rhonda crept between two trucks and ducked low enough to see two pairs of massive boots on the next row. One was definitely Colossus, and the other pair was even bigger. 

“I still owe ya for stickin’ a live power line up my ass, commie,” one voice grumbled with a simmering fury and a meaty cracking of knuckles.

A rich, deep Russian accent replied, “Pivet, Fuckernaut. You would not believe how hard it is to fix steel teeth.”

Almost two thousand pounds of muscle and steel squared off, ready to tear into each other. Rhonda sucked in a breath, hoping she was fast enough.

In her years as part of X-Men, Rhonda wasn’t the type to hesitate backing up an ally. Although she’d promised to stay out of the way on this mission, she had no intention of idly standing by. Before either of these massive men could take more than two steps toward each other, she rolled under the trailer that was between her and Colossus and the Juggernaut. Gritting her teeth against the asphalt scraping her bare arms, she scrambled to her feet between them. She threw her hands up and shot sparks from her fingers and shoulders, yelling, “Cain, wait!”

When the Juggernaut saw the familiar four-fingered hand, he hauled himself to a stop out of surprise more than anything; he barely managed to stop within arm’s reach of her. He wouldn’t have recognized her by the elaborate floral painting covering her arm, and her face wasn’t familiar to him since he’d only seen it once before, but that voice and that hand - he’d seen that hand hundreds of times as it passed him cups of pudding and half-eaten lunch trays. He’d seen the little stump scabbed over as it healed to a bright pink nub. That hand used to be so quick, darting in and out of the slot in his door, and over time it had grown slower and smoother as they had gotten used to each other.

“Rhonda, what are you doing?” Colossus had stopped within inches of his wife and was ready to yank her out of the way if it meant her safety. 

“Wait,” she was firm, harsher than she meant to be.

“X-Girlie,” The Juggernaut growled. “What’d I tell ya if I ever saw you wearing their colors again?”

Rhonda scoffed in her casual black leggings and purple tank top, “Do I look like I’m wearing their fucking colors?”

“Whaddaya want?” His hands were still in fists, raised at the right height to fling Rhonda against the trailers that flanked them.

She spoke slowly, clearly, loudly, making every syllable heard, “I want you. To take five steps back. And sit.” Without taking her eyes off Juggernaut, she angled her head slightly toward Colossus. “Both of you.” She shot a few small bolts of lightning upward as a warning shot.

Colossus started, “Rhonda, have you lost--”

She shot another bolt upward to silence her husband.

The Juggernaut briefly tightened his fists. “You got your juice back, huh?”

There was a tense few beats before Rhonda answered. “Not like it used to be, no,” she admitted, “But I can give you a few hundred volts of go-fuck-yourself if you don’t take five steps back and sit.”

“Hm,” the walking landmass of a man shifted his feet, then pointed, “Him first.”

Rhonda could feel his breath on her from behind. “Piotr, please. Five steps. Sit.”

Stunned, angry, confused, Colossus slowly took five begrudging steps backward, and lowered himself onto the pavement. He kept one hand on his knee and the other palm on the pavement, ready to spring back up at a second’s notice. “And now?” he asked.

“Cain,” she prompted.

The Juggernaut, with his hulking shoulders and huge helmet, matched Colossus in the begrudging slowness of his steps, before also planting himself on the concrete. “Now what?” he growled.

Rhonda didn’t lower her hands. She still had her right hand raised toward Juggernaut and her left pointed lower, toward the ground near her husband. She had never threatened her husband like this, or gotten between him and an enemy, and it had her so nervous she was shaking, desperately hoping it didn’t show. They could already hear gunfire from closer to the buildings, and civilians screaming. “We wait for the fight to fizzle out. We talk, if you feel like it. But mostly, you two sit your asses here and don’t fight.” Colossus said something to her in Russian, to which she replied, “And we don’t do anything underhanded like that either.”

The three were quiet for several minutes, listening to the sounds of Wade and Cable’s gunfire and the occasional explosion. 

The Juggernaut broke the silence, “So...looks like you made it home. Like I said before, you could always join the Brotherhood.”

She relaxed the sparks around her shoulders, but kept the ones emitting from her hands. “So they can use me as a political prop to say what horrible things regular humans do to poor innocent mutants?” She shook her head. “No thanks. The worst of what happened to me wasn’t even the humans and you know it - it was the other mutants.”

“All the same,” he replied, “you ever get sick of self-righteous assholes, you know who to find.”

“It won’t be you, Cain,” she softened, “Sorry.” Another silence. Colossus was seething. The Juggernaut was fidgeting.

“How’s that kid?” he asked.

She had to think a moment before Colossus prompted, “He means Russell.”

“Right,” she nodded once. “He lives at the house now. As far as I know...he’s doing okay.”

“And you, X-Girlie?” he shifted his legs and rested his forearms on his knees. “You put some weight on...looks good.”

Colossus interjected with a severe throat-clearing.

The Juggernaut rolled his eyes, hardly paying any mind and focusing on Rhonda. “How long until you could use your powers again?”

“Weeks,” she said flatly.

His helmet made a soft scraping sound as he shook his head, grunting. “Guess the collars hit you harder than some, huh.” There was a softness in his voice that most people would miss, but in their time talking in the Icebox, Rhonda had learned better.

“I never got to thank you,” she said. “I don’t think I would’ve made it home if you hadn’t helped me.”

He looked away from her, shifting uncomfortably and shrugging. “Those collars pop off like nothin’ if you know what you’re doin’.” He added in a quieter note, “I was just glad you weren’t dead.”

A heavy sigh came from behind Rhonda, and she turned to see Colossus getting to his feet. She started to protest, when he raised his palms and took two very slow steps toward her, then three, then four. “It was you? You took off her control collar when she escaped?”

“What about it?” Juggernaut retorted as if it was an insulting accusation.

Colossus took a hard look at his wife, her firm brow, strong stance, scraped arms, his painting partially peeling off her right arm, revealing the Xs underneath. The way she stood now, arms extended and firing sparks, was something he’d seen hundreds of times, but only ever directed at enemies. Seeing the worry and determination on her face, and the slightest tremble in her fingers, Colossus understood that she had no enemies here, just two people she cared about and wanted to keep them from ripping each other to pieces.

Staring down the Juggernaut, one of the most infamous mutants ever, Colossus said slowly, “I thought my wife had died years ago. You helped her when she needed it, and she came home.” Taking one more step, he held out his open right hand over Rhonda’s shoulder. “You are not my enemy today, and I will not fight you.”

Rhonda’s face softened and she let out a breath with relief. With one more look at the Juggernaut, she finally lowered both her hands. 

The helmeted behemoth laughed to himself, shaking his head. Taking his time to get to his feet, he sauntered to close the distance and clasped his rival’s hand. “Fine. Today. But next time, no promi--”

“ALL MUTANTS ON THE PREMISES,” a deafening megaphone rang out, “GET ON THE GROUND WITH YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD. THIS IS THE DEPARTMENT OF MUTANT CONTROL.”

[thorsstorms]

Abroad Pt. 7

Summary: Being the Hemsworth Kids’ Nanny, you were vowed to keep it strictly professional for their sake, but do the stolen glances go unnoticed between you both?

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: little anxiety. smut, oral (f recieving) +18!!

A/N:  The California wildfires were so so devastating and scary. You can google for more videos of people trying to escape the fires and it serious makes my heart race watching it. Miley and Liam losing their home breaks my heart, the interview she did afterwards, she tried to stay calm and upbeat but you could tell underneath it freaks her out. 

Masterlist

You sat waiting on the bleachers at your brothers college baseball game, waiting on the call. Your parents were tucked down in front of you in their stadium chairs. You watched patiently as the sun sunk lower in the sky. You could see your brother pull his sunglasses off his hat and shield his eyes out in center field.

The clock read 8:40PM. It’s almost 7 PM, his time, and he still hadn’t texted at least. Impatience grew quietly and your leg started to bounce anxiously. Staring at the clock on your phone, tapping it every now and then to keep it alive.

He had been texting you briefly this morning telling you that they were all getting freaked out as the wildfires grew closer, they were packing their things and keeping it all in the garage incase they needed a quick out. You told him to be careful and don’t take any chances, but of course he blows it off with a smile saying not to worry.

Cheering ripped you out of your gaze. You looked up just in time to see a ball bounce off the left field fence and your brother rounding second. You gazed out as he settled at third, wondering how they were already at the top of another inning. You watched as he looked towards you, tipping his helmet in acknowledgement, he knew you weren’t watching. Great.

8:45PM. You walked down the stands after Ty and two others came home, most likely sealing their win. You pressed the facetime button and waited. Facetime unavailable? You clicked the call button and it went straight to voicemail. Okay his phone is dead, they were probably out all day getting things situated. One of the kids probably drained it. You continued making excuses for him. After all, you did have a tendency to worry about what always turns out to be not a problem. You pushed down the uneasy feeling, ready to ride out the rest of this game.

“Did he answer?” Your dad asked as you settled behind him again. Of course he knew everything. It was a superpower of his, or any father really.

“No, I’ll try again later, I don’t wanna miss the game,” you turned your phone on full volume and set it down next to you. But not without sending Miley a text asking what was going on.

9:37PM. You were back home and just cancelled on your ice cream date with your closest cousin. This feeling wasn’t shaking and it almost made you physically sick.

“He hasn’t called, Ty. And she hasn’t even read the text!” Ty, still in his uniform, just got home and was standing in the doorway to the guest room while you were sat on the bed with a death grip on the phone.

“Im sure they are OK, you said it yourself this morning that they were keeping any eye on it,” though he tried, his words were not soothing. He stood awkwardly in the doorway and you sat silently on the bed. There was nothing you could do about it. You didn’t have Liam’s number, and who’s to say that he would answer either?

“Let’s just look at the news, they’ve been covering the fires LIVE for weeks now.” You followed him to the living room where he turned on CNN. They had another phone video from a family inside the car trying to evacuate. Flames and debris were scattering across the road and you could hear the panic in their voices as they drove through it.  

“Ty, I don’t want to watch this,” you mumbled, but not making an effort to look away. You read the story headline at the bottom of the screen referencing Malibu homes being helpless. Another mumbled ‘oh my god’ escaped your lips as you stared with panicked features at the television screen.

Suddenly, you had a lightbulb moment, there was one more number you could try. Gen! She was in the city, safe from the fires, and you knew that for sure. Immediately after clicking her name, she answered on the first ring.

“Gen! What is going on!”

“Can you get ahold of Chris?”

“Can you send me Liam’s number? I don’t have it.”

“(Y/N) I don’t know he hasn’t responded all day. I didnt even think about calling Liam,” she scolded herself over the phone. You yapped at her to quickly send it to you. As soon as the contact came through you were calling.

No answer. You shook your head to yourself, staring at the call log.

“Ty, something is wrong. When my flight lands tomorrow, I’m going to be stranded at the airport because not one of them grabbed a damn phone charger! Their house is probably burning up right now, if it isn’t yet, it’s about to be.” You knew you sounded crazy. You probably looked crazy too.

“(Y/N) chill out, he is a grown ass man and hopefully smart enough to leave when he should. Or better yet, they are probably out at a bar drinking a damn beer, perfectly fine.” You rolled your eyes at your father. You knew sure as hell they couldn’t go to a bar, but your father didn’t have to think about those things.

You went to bed that night with little to no sleep. Forever staring silently at your phone sitting still on the bed side table for most of the night, ready to answer it within a second if it rang. It didn’t.

8AM. Your flight didn’t leave until 1PM and you were ready to leave the house at 8AM. The conflict you had between wanting to rush back versus spend as much of these last few hours with your family almost tore you in half. Regardless, you knew you weren’t leaving till 1PM.

9AM. You were seated at the breakfast bar in your grandmother's house. The entire family came for a breakfast to tell you goodbye with no idea how long it would be till you came back. You shoved around a single, half eaten pancake, hardly able to rack up an appetite. You tried their phones again this morning. Nothing. You sat numbly, sending small smiles and ‘I’ll miss you too’’s around to everyone.

11AM. Even though it was early for your small airport, you sat anxiously in the correct terminal. The people surrounding you were boarding a flight before yours. Even some netflix wasn’t able to catch your attention as you watched the clocks and randomly tried one of their phone numbers again. Gen was going to meet you at the baggage claim when you landed. You at least had the knowledge to call her for backup so you weren’t stranded. You could figure this out and locate them together. One could only hope that Chris remembered what time your flight landed.

12:35PM. You sat in your assigned seat after boarding the flight. Without making an effort to pull out headphones and get comfortable, you stared at the lock screen while the flight attendants went through the safety motions in the isle. It was a picture that Miley sent you the day after you left. She snuck a picture of Chris laying between your legs, his arms wrapped around your waist, using you as his pillow. You were both passed out on her couch. When you asked her why, she just sent a shrugging emoji saying it was ‘too cute’. You smiled slightly at the photo. She was right, it is cute.

1:30PM was when you landed in LAX. The time change saving you a few. Taking your phone off airplane mode, the notifications could not come in fast enough. That’s because there weren’t any. A text from your mother saying don’t wait so long to come back, and to let them know how things play out. But honestly, if someone could let you know how things were going to play out, that would be great. You pulled your back pack over your shoulders and speed walked through the crowd to the baggage claim. Your eyes scanned the crowds for Gen, looking for her against everyone else but didn’t spy her anywhere. You turned towards the carousel keeping an eye out for your bag, all while double checking your call log and text messages. Still nothing.

After a couple minutes, your bag finally started to come around towards you. You glanced one more time around you for Gen but came up empty. You sighed and started to walk closer to your bag. Just as you were stepping closer, a hand reached it and grabbed the handle, hauling it off the belt.

“Hey, that one’s mine,” your heart sank, confrontation is the worst thing in the world, but the second you saw who was grabbing it, your breath was taken away. Chris’s eyes were full of humor, he had to know it scared you that your bag would be taken.

“Oh my god!” You lunged your arms over his shoulders, knocking his hat off in the process. His familiarity flooded your sense and you felt yourself let go of so much weight that had been lingering around. “Your phone. You are here,” you mumbled incoherently into his shoulder as you tried to swallow tears of relief that pricked at the back of your eyes. You felt his grip tighten and your feet hitch off the ground.

“I’m here, I know! I’m sorry,” feeling him shaking from laughing. You could feel your body warm in his embrace against the cold airport air. Squeezing around his shoulders reminding you he was actually here, no more waiting and worrying. Your feet hit the ground when you pulled back reluctantly, keeping your fingers locked behind his neck, grounding your senses.

“Don’t laugh! I was so worried,” a stray tear escaped and he quickly wiped it away and pulled your face to his. Rightfully so, you missed him so much, and you let him know. He kissed you rushed, putting his apology into it. Your hands rested down his chest, against his shirt as he pulled away too soon.

“I knew you would be.” He spoke quietly, scanning your eyes, making sure you were okay. A small smile was all he needed. He pulled you in again for a quick kiss before picking up his hat and throwing it back on. You giggled out an apology while he put it on. He grabbed the handle of the suitcase and your hand in his. He quickly scanned his surroundings, you too, but everyone seemed to be minding their own business. It seemed a little too good to be true but you didn’t dwell on it. You both quickly walked towards the doors to the parking lot while you fired a million questions that he had trouble keeping up with.

You got your answers, sure enough, as he drove. You didn’t know where you were going, but he seemed like he did. Having the energy to ask where you both were headed escaped your mind as you thought about Miley and Liam losing their house and all their belongings. Sadness filled your heart for her, a tornado took your home when you were younger as well, but you were maybe 8 years old, and were able to rebuild and find some belongings around the area. You pulled into a driveway of a mid sized home, that you came to figure was your place to stay till you leave town. You caught Liams truck in the driveway. Chris parked the car and gave your hand a squeeze.

“It will all turn out,” he said while you both opened the doors.

Inside you were attacked by the kids, giving each of them a squeeze. You hugged them close, missing them just as much as their father.

“You can’t leave for that long ever again,” India whispered into your ear. “Papa missed you too much.”

You whispered right back before letting her go, “I’ll try my best.” She pulled away shyly and walked across the room to a couch where she was seated on a tablet before you came in. You scanned the room and spotted Miley sitting at a dining room table ignoring everyone else in the house. She sat still with her back to you with a phone pressed to her ear.

Chris shut the door loudly behind you making you jump a bit in your spot. He pressed a kiss to your temple and walked past you, disappearing into a hallway, suitcase and backpack pulling along with him.

At the door closing, she finally turned around and saw you. You walked over the boys at your feet and met her in the dining room, crushing her in a hug.  After talking for a while, you got the gist that she was able to figure things out. She laughed about going to the store to buy a new phone charger for everyone, somehow finding humor in all the missed calls and texts from you to her. You glanced at the table she was sitting at and spotted, along with hers, one other phone plugged in charging as well. She caught you eyeing them on the table.

“Guess chargers weren’t that important to us,” she laughed awkwardly.

“I’m just happy everyone is okay.” It was the truth. She was still shaken, you can see that visually. It probably hasn’t manifested fully yet. After chatting a bit more and seeing Liam out on the back patio on hold with his insurance, you followed after Chris, finding him after he disappeared in the hallway. The master of the house was cute, and perfect for you both. Your suitcase was half empty on the bed as he was hanging up a shirt in the closet, next to his unpacked suitcase.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said, watching him from the doorway.

“We are going to be here for two weeks (Y/N), I want to,” okay, can’t argue with that. The bed looked so inviting after a sleepless and anxiety filled night. You climbed and laid across it, resting your head on your folded hands, sighing.

“I need a nap,” you mumbled, closing your eyes. Chris abandoned his station in the closet and crossed the room. The bed dipped beside you and he pulled you closer, pushing his arm under your head. His other hand ran across your back, he kissed your forehead lightly.

“You are so nice,” you giggled quietly. “Nice to cuddle.”

“Nice huh?” You didn’t open your eyes, but you could hear the smile in his voice. The 10 seconds of quiet you received came to a halt when you both heard one of the boys scream for him across the house. Peaking one eye open, not wanting to move, you saw Chris throw a hand over his face in annoyance. You watched his face closely as he rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling fan.

“Papa!” Tristan yelled again. You rolled your eyes at his laziness and started to pull off the bed.

“I’ll go see what he wants, make him stop yelling.” Chris didn’t make a move to stop you, but his head followed you around the bed and watched you out the door, disappear around the hallway corner.

After about 30 minutes, you figured out the tv and put on a movie for the kids, sitting with them until the calm down. They sat silently while you were in the kitchen with miley, and when you returned to the living room, they were all three asleep. Guess they didn’t get much sleep last night either. You whispered to Miley that they were all asleep in there and that you were going to try to take a nap as well. A suggestive wink and wave of her hands was all you needed to round to corner and head back to the bed.

When you walked back in the room, Chris was breathing evenly and laying still on the bed. You quietly shut the door behind you and took off your shoes, next to where Chris kicked his off. He looked so inviting to cuddle up to but you were trying so hard not to wake him up. The throw on the end of the bed looked soft and was going to have to do because he was laying on top of all the covers. You returned to your spot and slid between his arms. He adjusted slightly, pushing you closer with a hand on your back. A lazy and quick kiss pressed to your forehead was brief and he was out like a light again, probably didn’t fully wake up in the first place. You nestled quietly and felt a weight lift off your shoulders. It was a relief to be back in his arms, all is as right as it can be.

11PM. You woke up cold, as always. Except it was dark out and there was no reason for him to leave you hanging. Its startled you slightly when you could tell the sun was down from the closed blinds on the window. You searched your pockets for your phone. You felt like it was a trick being played on you when you saw that it was past 11PM. You stilled and tried to listen beyond the bedroom door for any sign of life but it was dead quiet. You slid off the bed and flipped on the light, digging through drawers for pajamas, turning up with leggings and a baseball t-shirt of your brothers.

You creaked open the bedroom door and still didn’t hear anything. The house was still, the upstairs lights turned on, the kids were probably asleep up there. You continued till you saw movement out the back windows. Peering through the back door you spotted the three sitting on the patio furniture. Just talking, it seemed. You watched as Liam sat back and slid a hand down his face, probably stressing out. A habit they both have in common, you learned. You pushed the door open and all eyes turned to you.

“Hey, did we wake you up?” Chris asked, craning his neck around the back of his seat. You shook your head and made your way towards him.

“I woke up because I was cold. You always disappear,” you hughed, messing up his hair with your fingers. The other two let out a low ‘ooooo’ and he turned back to them to flip them off.

“Even when I am around your always still cold,” he complained. Just on time and breeze caught you and you shivered slightly. It wasn’t even the slightest bit chilly, he was right.

“My point!” he pointed up at you laughing, the other two joining in.

“Yea, yea. I’m going back to bed.” They all three followed you in after you told them what time it was. Miley and Liam trudged up the stairs while Chris followed you to the room.

11:20PM. You were snuggled into the covers while he turned the lights off, the lamp on, and the fan on, smirking at you. He started to strip his clothes down to his boxers, and you got to smirk while watching him. He crawled in next to you, and boy was he a sight to look at. You could stare all day. You missed him enough that you did so, shamelessly, though he wasn’t allowed to say anything because he does the same thing.

An arm slid underneath you, he pulled you to him and laid his head on your chest like you were a pillow. Fingers automatically finding themselves at the nape of his neck, and the other resting on his arm. You sighed as goosebumps covered your arms because they were now above the warmth of the blanket. Your fingers rubbed down his spine and and pressed against his muscles and he hummed in appreciation. Of course, now you were wide awake after sleeping so long. You waited patiently until you thought his breathing evened out, to stop moving your hands. He shrugged his shoulders like a needy child when your movements stilled.

“I was so worried Chris,” you whispered.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He lifted his head and found your lips in the moon lit darkness and placed a chaste kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You could see his eyes and feel his body still against yours.

“You, what?” He lowered his head pressing a kiss to your jaw lightly flowing lower to your neck.

“I love you,” you said slowly, feeling foreign coming out of your mouth. His lips left your neck, cold in his absence. Though he wasn’t gone for long, a slow and hard kiss pressed against your lips, eyes falling closed to the darkened room. He kissed you slowly, drawing his tongue in and showing his love for you endlessly. It was sweet, slow, and sensual in its own way. His stubble ran across your skin, leaving a tickle in its wake that you loved so much. When he pulled away, he kissed across your neck, leaving you to catch your breath. One hand was gripped softly behind your neck, giving himself more room while the other squeezed harder around your waist. He took his sweet time feeling you out, sliding your annoying in-the-way shirt off and paying attention to your chest that was rising and falling under his touch. You gasped as he payed attention to your nipples that grew hard quickly against the cold air and his fingertips.

“Say it again,” he demanded across your skin. Trying to grasp yourself to reality from his assault, you murmured ‘I love you’.

His hands flooded to your leggings and easily slid them under you and down your legs. Goosebumps rose across your skin and he ran his hands up your legs, finding home on your waist against underwear that hadn’t come off.

“Just take them off,” you told him breathlessly. You expected to see him fight off a smirk against your eager tone but there was no reaction except for lust flooding his features. As soon as they slipped past your ankles his hands where under your knees, carving a spot for him. He laid open mouth kisses down the inside of your thighs, making you humm in frustration.

“Love, do you even know how long you made me hold out?” He squeezed the back of your thighs playfully. “Let me enjoy this.” He settled himself lower against the bed and you could feel your heels rest against his back, your legs over his shoulders as he traced around where you wanted him most. You were almost shaking with anticipation, feeling his hot breath over you.

You licked a hot strip up your center, flicking your clit with his tongue. Your hips shuttered under his fingertips. You forcefully closed your mouth in attempt to silence yourself as he licked around your clit and held your hips down from moving. His hands eventually found yours and pulled one away from covering your mouth, intertwining his fingers with yours. His tongue dipped around and circled your entrance, and you gasped at the new feeling. He pulled up and bit playfully on the inside of your thigh.

“Let me hear you,” his voice broke your trance. Your own hands ghosted his as he ran his up your abdomen, his fingertips feeling hot over your skin, while sinking back down towards your heat, assaulting you with his tongue. He was treating you so good, adding fingers, one after another, stretching you for him. You came quickly on his tongue, not really giving you a choice, complying.

“Are you, enjoying it yet?” you asked breathlessly as he kissed up your abdomen. He grazed his teeth over your nipple, pulling a shocked noise from you.

“I am,” he said quickly, sucking a love bite at the base of your neck, giving you a moment to breathe normally again.

“I love you,” you said again, it spilling out as if against your will. Chris pulled off the bed and disappeared into the closet, emerging again with a foil pack in his fingers. You watched him with a small smile on your face, not missing his outline in the black boxers he was wearing. He looked at you as he crossed the room, on a sex high with your hair spread across the sheets and a love drunk smile. He was the lucky one here.

“I hope you don’t always move that slow,” you teased as he took his time padding across the room.

“That’s all up to you, beautiful,” he crawled up next to you pulled you close, kissing you deeply, lighting another fire inside you, though it never seemed to dim. You were the lucky one here.

Taglist: @keithseabrook27 @odinson-barnes @jonsnowisthesexiestbastard 

@weekendswithnewtmas @innerpaperexpertcloud @toomanyflowerboys @thefashioncomplex @basmaraafat

A/N: Going to try and get the next chapter up before April 26th! we need a little promo tour in this. What happens when the reader meets Evans? lmao.

[melaninja-mo]

Us (movie) Analysis/Theory pt 1 :

MEGA SPOILER ALERT!

Holy mackerel. I watched the movie Us finally, with a notebook and index cards to analyze everything I saw. Below I have amalgamated that information & I hope it satisfies you.

🎞 We all perceive the film differently, so this is my personal perception + analyses of symbolism. All themes play into the movie universe. At the end I will try and communicate what Jordan Peele may be trying to say externally for my “conspiracy” (truth) theorist.

🚨 Under constant edit.

✂️✂️✂️✂️✂️✂️✂️✂️✂️✂️✂️✂️✂️✂️✂️

DUALITY is basically THE theme of the movie. Everything has a double meaning & can be tied to something else. Even the dialogue features mention of double and triple. I’m going to name the ones with 3 as well.

•Above world & the underground - 2 worlds

•Humans & their Clones - Double People

• 11:11 - Double 1’s & palindromic ** (I’m going to do a whole section on 11)

•I got 5 on it - Means going half for some dank.

•Black flag shirt in 1986 & On twin in present day

•Hands across America happened during the Gemini season. The zodiac representing twins.

•Mirrors & reflections everywhere

•2 large ambulances with the number 2 on them - One carrying life / The other carrying death

*3rd ambulance was between two those worlds.

•Lots of Black & white color placement

*Red is a third color seen a lot

•Generator & Back up generator - Power

•Jason wearing a Mask

•Big spider & Little spider on coffee table

•The white girl twins

*They say the same things all the way to triple jinx

•The story of the princess and her shadow

• Night & Day / Sun & Storm

•Jason & Pluto’s hand gestures are opposite of each other as they are walking backwards.

•The painting on the wall has a little girl inside of a deranged looking older woman

*Theres also a painting with 3 people in it

•Jason’s drawing is an over the shoulder drawing, which means 2 people in the picture

•The shadows on the beach create the illusion of a shadow family.

•The little girls hairballs are different colors in the therapy office

•The meaning of Hands Across America changes

•• One I thought of: Lighthouses are suppose to guide you to safety, but it did the opposite for young Adelaide.

Plot necessary Easter Eggs & Prop placement

•A shirt can be seen with “Fragile” on it

Nods to the underground

•A fact at the beginning of the movie brings up the underground and abandoned mine shafts.

•The game of Whack-A-Mole at the carnival - The game of keeping things underground.

•When they first arrive to the summer home, Adelaide is laying down on the couch. We see a spider on the coffee table with a little spider coming from under it.

•Jason digging tunnels at the beach

Classic movies & games

The movies are seen in the beginning next to the old style TV.

•C.H.U.D - An old movie, the title means “Cannibal human underground dwellers” I believe. Speaks for itself.

•The Man With Two Brains - Movie about a man who has a connection with a brain in a jar (Lol that is very vague, pls just search it.)

•The Goonies - Movie about kids going underground

•The Lost Boys is being filmed at the carnival during 1986. The title speaks for itself.

•Guess Who, Magic, and Candyland can be seen in the closet with Jason & Pluto

•Rock, paper, scissors is seen being played multiple times. Scissors is an obvious reference to the scissors, but I haven’t deciphered the others.

•Jason is wearing a Jaws shirt, a movie about a creature coming from below aaaaalso at a beach.

•Jason’s name is like Jason Voorheis who also wears a mask.

•The name of the House of mirrors goes from “Shaman’s quest” to “Merlin’s forest”

Elements

I’m glad I’ve seen other people notice this, but the elements, as there are 4 primary ones, are depicted within the 4 characters. I always look for this in movies with 4 main people.

Adelaide is Earth - Earth represents foundation. She was taken from her home & put in a completely opposite one. She has seen above & below ground. Values her family.

Gabe is Water - Loves his boat, wants to go to beach, kills his quarry on the pier.

Jason is Fire - Loves the magic trick, was in a fire previously. His double is a pyromaniac. The double also sits directly in front of the fire.

Zora is Wind - Is a runner & quick thinker. Her double is extremely fast.

Patterns & Colors

White - Adelaide is wearing white for most of the movie until it is stained red

Black - Used in the stairs to the underground, the power outages, the Thriller shirt,

Black & White - Jason’s bow tie shirt

Red - Name of Adelaide’s double, color of blood, color of pending danger. It’s also the color of the lamp over Jason’s bed & the color of the flare gun. Represents the color of the Tethered.

Checkboard - A Masonic print used in places for rituals

Stripes - I noticed them but haven’t figured it out! I shall though!

The Rabbit

•Seen in the underground

•Zora’s shirts - One is green with a rabbit on it, the other says “Thó” which is Vietnamese for rabbit.

•Adelaide is playing with a rabbit in the sandbox at the therapy office

•Adelaide has a toy rabbit in a box at the summer home

•Jason has a toy rabbit

*He keeps a rabbit at the end

THE NUMBER 11

In numerology, double numbers possess good meaning and usually mean change, transformation, growth, etc.

Here’s all the times I saw it.

•Jeremiah 11:11

•Channel 11 @ 11

• “I want number 11” Addy says at the carnival

• 11:11 on Jason’s clock

•Sports team score is 11/11 - Channel 11

•Black Flag T-shirt - 4 straight lines could be 1111

Random Key Things I Noticed

•If Red is the real Adelaide, and Adelaide is the clone; that means the clone gave birth to the children. Making the children half-tethered.

•Adelaide & Jason snap off beat, but Zora and dad sing on beat.

•Jason & Pluto have a very strong connection, because they are half-tethered. The twins even call Jason weird on the beach.

Which he is, because he’s digging tunnels. He’s also obsessed with masks, communicates strangely, and chooses the weirdest times to display emotion. Which could probably be a result of being half-tethered.

•The Thriller shirt. Not only do the lyrics go with what’s happening metaphorically, but Michael Jackson happens to go crazy with the duality in Thriller. He’s half man-half werewolf & also half alive-half dead. This plays directly into the movies theme.

•In the Bible verse mentioned, if you continue reading, it makes mention of Baal. How God knew the people were burning incense to Baal. Baal is baphomet, The goat demon. A principle associated with him is the “As above, so below”.

*There is a pentagram on the frisbee thrown at the beach.

*When Red holds the scissors towards the end of the movie, it is in the pose of Baphomet.

Class system?

•The people above ground have access to much more than those below. Like the class system seen in America.

•The white family friends had a backup generator, representing the amount of “Power” they had.

•Gabe asks “What are you?” not “Who are you?” Showing that he viewed the tethered as inhuman.

•The tethered do not speak, just like the lower classes have no social economic voice.

[just-kessho]

Ambrosia: Dazai Happiness Week

[Day 3] Birthday party

AU: None

Warnings: Mentions of suicide (thanks, Dazai) and slight spoilers for those who haven’t finished season 1 and 2 of BSD I guess?

[Day 1] [Day 2] [Here] [Day 4] [Day 5] [Day 6] [Day 7]

It was unlikely for Dazai Osamu to not know things – escape routes and alleyways of Yokohama? Those he has already mapped out with every nook and crannies within his brain. A war against Port Mafia? Yes, he already have at least 84 plans and countless backup plans already stored in his mind.

A birthday party for him?

What?

Sure, Dazai knew of ‘birthday’ and ‘party’ as well as ‘birthday party’ but for that to happen to him, the few people who stared into the swirling abyss only for it to blink back, was completely out of his calculations.

All right, to be fair, his mind was already whirling with countless possibilities when Atsushi, all trembling and stuttering every other word, came up to him only to ask about, and he quote straight from the teen’s mouth, “all the best places for suicide” in all of Yokohama.

But Atsushi didn’t stop there – oh no, he followed up with a very high pitched and very loud (that Dazai had to refrain from covering his ears, though he clearly remembers his eyebrows twitching from that sudden outburst) shout of, “will you show them to me?!” that had ‘suspicious’ labelled all over him.

He was about to ask Atsushi what was wrong – and believe me, if [Name] was involved in anything, then he would drop everything and anything just to sprint to her side – but before a single word could get out of his throat, his blond co-worker screaming about everybody’s schedule being interrupted whenever Dazai’s present, and thus that leads to Dazai… well, basically granting Atushi’s wish by showing the male all the places that he would personally commit suicide.

Though just after the two stepped out of the agency front doors, the brunette turned back to face the brick red building, wondering what on Earth was happening to prevent him from merely being inside it – he figured that much out, for Kunikida, under no circumstances, would ever allow Dazai to step a single feet outside the building when it was working hours. It says something about his own disappearance skills (that he was somewhat proud of), and also more about how it was a poorly disguised way (to someone as perceptive as Dazai, of course) of not wanting a person named ‘Dazai Osamu’ to know about what everyone was planning.

He could rule out a war against Port Mafia, as the truce between the two organisations were still standing, and he could also rule out-

Wait, was [Name] truly in danger? Sure, he knew of the dangerous jobs that she sometimes would take without as much blinking an eye, yet the image of her laying on a hospital bed, where her red liquid of life would make a stark contrast against the pristine white of the sheets, and being strapped to every machine available just to barely keep her alive was not an image that he want – nor want to remember.

[Hair colour] framed her face like an antique piece of artwork, and those [eye colour] were shining with… something met his dull brown ones.

He blinked, and the- his belladonna was gone.

Whether the stunning beauty in that window was an illusion or not, perhaps it was time to focus on entertaining Atsushi with his hand-picked spots for suicide.

Yet two and a half hours into showing the white haired kid the suicide spots with as much enthusiasm as possible so he wouldn’t know Dazai knew the agency (and perhaps along with [Name]’s workplace named with the very original name of ‘The Office’) was planning something.

Though Dazai thought [Name] had a neutral look of looking as if she was absolutely bored of everything, as if she had somehow experienced everything before and was doing them again, like a countless playthrough of a game that mirrored your first one, Atsushi’s face now sort of… resembled that of his girlfriend’s.

… Perhaps the white haired male really had enough listening about “ooh, that branch seemed to support your weight well” and “there’s not many people who would come here, so this is the perfect spot for a clean suicide~” and whatnot.

Honestly, he seemed more like their newest addition in the agency, Izumi Kyouka, when she was waiting personally for him in the shopping district than the sunny boy who always smiled, asking if there was anything he could do to help and putting his life on the line for others.

“Atsushi-kun.” stopping so suddenly, much like them times when Dazai himself slammed on the brakes, at the last minute, when he was driving, so it was no surprise that Atsushi nearly bumped into him. Nearly. “what is with you and the agency today?”

“I… do not get what you mean, Dazai-san?” really, the kid was so bad at lying that Dazai swear he could personally count every sweatdrop that was staring to show on his forehead. “Wh-whatever could you have gotten that from, I won-wonder?”

“… Your whole attitude.”

Really, Dazai might have wanted to re-think his earlier statement, since as soon as that ruthless three worded sentence was uttered, Atsushi looked as if someone had snatched his beloved chazuke and threw it in the bin all right in front of him.

“W-well, it is a special day, so the agency thought that… you should have a break today!”

“… oh shit, is today the anniversary of me and [Name]?”

“No! At least, I don’t think so.” to see Dazai panicking was a sight to behold, but it was slightly sad for the birthday boy not realise what today really is.

“I-is it [Name]’s birthday?”

“… No.”

“Versalius-san’s birthday?”

“… Think again, Dazai-san.”

“The Office’s founding date? The agency’s founding date?”

“Keep thinking, Dazai-san.”

“Was today the day [Name]’s favourite pet died, and so she wants us out of the picture so she can mourn in peace, yet deep down inside, all she really wanted was for me to lend her a shoulder to cry on and have comfort sex?”

“What?! NO!”

Face red and huffing as if he had just sprinted across three hundred meters for the last bowl of chazuke, Atsushi hunched down and mumbled something about Dazai being so sad and oblivious, yet he wondered whether the older man was really just entertaining him.

Yet at the thoughtful look spread across Dazai’s face as he really whacked his brain, Atsushi threw that last thought out of his mind.

Oh wait, Dazai was known for being good actor, so maybe that deduction wasn’t that far off.

Perhaps I should just tell him outright- wait, what were you thinking, Nakajima Atsushi?! [Surname]-san’s trust was specifically put into you! So don’t fail her – and the entire agency – now.

A phone beeped. And at the vibration felt in the pocket, Atsushi immediately scrambled to get it out, nearing dropping the object in his haste. And at the neat kanji and katakana that told him everything was ready, he felt himself relieve a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

Thank God, because I don’t think I can fool or keep Dazai-san from the truth anymore.

“Dazai-san, I think we should return to the agency because… uh, oh, because Kunikida-san just texted me saying that we need you.”

“Eh-? No, don’t wanna, and here I was having such a good time showing you all my favourite suicide spots-”

“Actually, it was [Surname]-san who needs you, she just didn’t want to… she didn’t want me to tell you that.”

“Then let’s go! That sounds exactly like [Name]-chan~”

I offer you my sincerest apologies, [Surname]-san, but your sacrifice is much needed – just please find it in your heart to forgive me!

“Atsushi-kun, why are you praying to a God now?”

Atsushi didn’t really have a convincing answer for that impossible question. So he stayed silent, praying for Dazai to not work out what they have in store for him.

A thunderous bang resonated throughout the room. Confetti was thrown, and a particular long one got entangled in Dazai’s hair.

Atsushi’s frantic stuttering and sweatdrop now made sense. They were preparing a birthday party for him!

Oh wait, today really was his birthday, wasn’t it?

But he paid neither the confetti nor the sudden realisation that he was a year older any notice.

Oh no, not with his co-works (that were crawling slowly but surely, to the place in his heart where the walls that he carefully put up were defeated – much like what [Name] did) smiling – yes, even Kyouka, and the corners of Kunikida’s mouth twitched upwards – and simultaneously shouting “happy birthday, Dazai!” along with the colourful banners and freshly prepared food that was put out for everyone to enjoy.

… He just hoped Vesalius did not prepare them…

But still, that cake, that magnificent cake that was coated in his favourite flavour – a sure sign that it was [Name] who ordered it, heck, perhaps she even made it herself. Oh wait, it wasn’t covered in crabsticks so that was out of the window.

However, the disappointment that reminded him of a child not getting his way in a toy shop was quickly washed away by a warm feeling as he scanned each happy faces of his co-workers that he couldn’t help but feel his lips spread into a smile-

And then his eyes met hers.

Did time slow down? Probably not, but he really felt it was just him and her in this room. A dazzling smile that he wanted to protect (despite fully knowing she was perhaps even more capable of that than him), a dazzling smile that was not present not even two years prior… a smile that was directed solely at him. He remembers simply expressing his gratitude to the people in front of him, and then making his way towards the [hair colour] haired woman.

Her hands were clasped behind her back, was she trying to look cool by hiding her fiddling fingers? How utterly cute.

(It wasn’t the first time such a thought cropped up in Dazai’s mind, and it for sure wasn’t the last)

“… Happy birthday, Dazai.”

“Really, [Name]-chan, you didn’t have to do all this!”

“But I wanted to, we wanted to. You deserve a break after all… so here.”

A package of blue and red was thrust in his vision of sight. With hands that trembled slightly – huh, why was he trembling anyway? Years of torturing and other jobs in the mafia without batting an eyelash hardened him so. Thus this small, trivial exchange should not… should not make him feel as if he was on top of the world, and wouldn’t mind having this warmth blossoming in his chest longer.

Still, he took it. Gently unwrapping the thing, a burst of blue greeted his eyes.

“It’s a labradorite.” [Name] explained, leading him right under one of the agency’s artificial lights. “it changes colour depending on the light. Normally this gemstone I got you stays a blue-ish colour, but it can become red, yellow, hmm… a blue-green and gold. Ah, see that? It just changed to gold for a moment- and now it’s a sort of blue-green. Oh, it changed back to being solely blue.”

Turning the precious stone so that it shined in all the colours that it can give off, the birthday brunette entertained himself with it – heck, Dazai even managed to get [Name]’s eye colour to stay on for an extended period of time, but it is fickle, one slight shake of his hand and the colour vanished.

“Thank you, [Name]. I’ll take good care of it.” it wasn’t a lie, nor a white-lie that was the result of his silver-tongue that made many people spill out their deepest secrets or flush in a deepest red. No, it was right from his heart – and that was something that made [name]’s smile widen.

Which in turn, made his own widen, for the warmth in his chest, spreading down to his fingertips and toes, made him forget of his past and the demons that plagued his mind – just for today, just for this hour… just as long as [Name]’s genuine smile was there, on her face.

Huh, and he thought it was impossible to fall more in love with her.

The presents he received were more everyday essentials, though there were some books from the Director and Vesalius (with the latter glaring at him for seeing him kiss his lovely niece) that he wanted to flip through.

Still, the gift that made an everlasting impression – almost as much as [Name]’s gemstone – was Naomi and Tanizaki’s.

It was a maid dress.

Not one that showed off everything and hid nothing, not it was one that was historically correct with the skirt down to the floor. It was one that showed off all the right curves of [Na- uh, whoever that would put it on. It was a miniskirt, yes, but it could pass for a school uniform miniskirt, and the collar was also down, though it didn’t show off everything and so left just enough room for imagination…

All in all, Dazai thought he had to give it to Naomi (this had the younger Tanizaki sibling written all over it) for her to pick out this particular and… uh, unique gift.

… And she was smirking slyly all the while he opened it.

Hey, guess he and [Name] would get busy tonight, as he would definitely abuse his ‘birthday boy’ status.

    Omake

“[Name]-chan, put it on, pleaseeeeeee!”

“No.”

“Come on, I’m begging you- and I’m the birthday boy here. Also, everybody want to see you in this, after all, who wouldn’t want our poster girl in a cute maid dress?”

“Y-yeah…” I-I’m so sorry, [Surname]-san!

“Oooooh, definitely! It would be a sight to behold.”

“I’m sure it would suit you. I know it would have more impact than the time I dressed up.”

“See, even Kyouka-chan and Naomi-chan said it. So please!”

“……………… Ugh… fine. Give it here then.”

“If you don’t I’ll make my infamous puppy- wait, what?”

“I won’t say it twice.”

“Yes!”

“I’ll get the camera ready!”

“You won’t old man.”

“D-damn… she’s so cruel to me…”

“Come on people, drum roll please! Aaaaaaand here we go!

“No! No drum rolls Naomi. Also……… Kill me. Right now- hey, D-Dazai, why are you picking me up?! And where are we going?”

“Kunikida-kun, don’t look for us for the next three days bye!”

Guess who’s a day late! Happy birthday husbando, the light of my life, my reason for living, the one whom I just reblogged 100+ gifs and photos of…

@dazaixhappinessweek2k19

[solastia]

Rogues And Charlatans | 3

Pairing: Yoongi x Seokjin

Word Count: 3,501

Summary: What is a gang leader supposed to do when his longtime rival shows up at his door, beaten and begging for help? Defend their honor, of course.

Warnings & Genre: Mafia!au, Fluff, and poorly attempted crack. There will be light violence, but nothing overly graphic. Maybe one person gets shot point blank. Basically, this isn’t a dark and serious mafia fic. It’s just a bunch of crooks in love, y’all.

The warehouse was near the seaport, nearly an hour away, and the entire drive there was made in silence. Everyone was tense and battle ready, fearing the worst but hoping for the best. Yoongi had even generously offered to let Seokjin be in control of the music if he wanted (something he never offered to anyone), but he had declined, stating the silence was comforting. Yoongi didn’t really understand that, because if anything it made him jittery, but he let it drop. Only the occasional forlorn sighs broke through the tense stillness as Yoongi tried his best to get them there as quickly as possible. 

After what felt like the longest trip of his life, the building came into view and Yoongi pulled into an alley to alert his men. The sun was just beginning to set, lending an eerie crimson glow to the area that he hoped wasn’t a sign of things to come. It had been way too long since he’d last been out doing his own dirty work, so he was maybe a little on edge. Message sent, he sighed weightily and pulled out his gun, checking it over and stashing another clip into his jacket. The car was suddenly filled with the sounds of buckles being undone and weapons being loaded and checked as the others followed suit. 

“Joonie, give me a gun.” 

“Baby, no. You’re going to be in the car and Yoongi’s men are watching. You don’t need a gun.” 

“I’m not staying here. Haven't you seen horror movies? The person that stays in the car always gets killed.” 

“I’m pretty sure it’s the opposite, sweetheart. Just stay here for me, please? I’ll be able to concentrate better if I know you’re safe.” 

“Joon! Come on!” 

Yoongi growled and pulled an extra Glock from his glove box and held it behind him. 

“Jesus Christ, if he wants to fight so bad, let him. Honestly Hoseok, I don’t even understand why you’re here.” 

Hoseok smiles widely as he meets Yoongi’s eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“If Jungkookie is hurt he’ll need me.” 

Yoongi supposed that was true. “Still, stay close to us. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Do you even know how to shoot that?” 

Hoseok shrugged sheepishly, which Yoongi took to mean he didn’t. 

“Have Namjoon explain it before we get out. Only shoot if you have to. How someone could apparently work for three fucking gangs and not know how to shoot is a mystery,” he sighed, then pulled out his phone to send one last text to let his men know they were ready. 

“I’m a doctor. People tend to avoid shooting the person that keeps them alive and asks no questions.” Hoseok smirks before turning to quietly talk to Namjoon. 

Yoongi shook his head fondly, then turned to Seokjin, 

“You ready?” 

Yoongi had admittedly never seen Seokjin in action before, so the person next to him was practically a stranger. Seokjin was sitting ramrod straight, his gaze locked onto the warehouse in front of them. His eyes were hard and cold and his plush lips that were usually laughing or smirking were set in a hard line. He already had his good hand firmly clenched around his Beretta and had his injured arm hidden in the folds of his jacket. You could barely tell he was hurt. He looked like a man that could kill you without a thought before going to have tea with his mother. This was the crime boss Kim Seokjin and Yoongi had very complicated emotions about the way he looked right now. The sudden image of him on his knees staring up at this version of Seokjin was one that he didn’t think would go away very soon. 

Seokjin turned to him, his eyes softening for a moment as he nodded. Yoongi answered with a quirk of his lips then signaled to everyone else. They silently left the car, barely closing to doors to not make a sound. Seokjin was on his left and Namjoon took his usual spot on his right. Jimin and Hoseok were behind him, with Jimin taking the initiative to guard Hoseok. 

They prowled towards the side door Yoongi’s man had told him about, the guard already having been taken out the moment he’d told them they were here. He whistled lowly and his guard noiselessly appeared out of the shadows, twelve men circling around the group with their firearms aimed ahead. Seokjin turned to Yoongi with a smirk, impressed. He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned, pleased to get to show off. He knew he had some of the best-trained men in the game.

The man that Yoongi had working undercover was the one that met them by the door, guiding them in silently and pointing to the office on the third floor where the leader was holed up. Jungkook would also be found there in a separate room, with the leader’s brother as a guard. 

Yoongi signaled his men to go ahead of them to silently take out as many as they could before they were found out, only keeping a couple with his party as backup. The last thing he wanted was for this leader to run off. He wanted to get a few kicks in himself before presenting the asshole to Seokjin with a god damn ribbon and letting him do what he wanted. 

As his group quietly stalked up the stairs, he could hear occasional grunts or the telltale muffled burst as someone used a silencer. His men were quick and efficient, as usual, and soon had both the first and second floors cleared. There were two guards blocking the way to the office and Yoongi jerked his head towards one to signal Seokjin to take him out as he took on the other one. 

Yoongi used the butt of his gun to knock the guy out, not wanting to waste a bullet on someone so insignificant, and the low grunt as Seokjin used his knife on the other showed a ruthlessness that Yoongi wasn’t aware he was capable of. 

He was both turned on and a little terrified. 

Namjoon set his foot on the door and waited for Yoongi to count down before slamming it open, nearly tearing the door on the hinge. The five people inside all jumped up and clumsily turned their guns on them, before lowering them just as quickly as Yoongi’s men, now numbering thirty easily, began to crowd into the room. All the people in Yoongi’s group, even Hoseok, had their guns trained on five men. The terror on their faces was amusing. They knew there was no getting out of this one. 

“Which one of you asswipes is the leader?” Yoongi asked nonchalantly, strolling closer and looking them. Not a single one of them looked very impressive. 

A stocky and nearly bald guy walks forward, dressed in knockoff streetwear and at least ten chains that were probably painted plastic. The man is obviously scared, but trying his best to maintain face in front of his guys, strutting towards Yoongi and pointing his chin up in a way he apparently thought was intimidating. 

“That’s me. Who the fuck are you?” 

Yoongi guffawed at the brazenness of this asshole, pointing at the man and sharing an amused grin with Namjoon. 

“Seriously? You’re that fucking stupid? You come into my town and start shit, not knowing who the big boys are? I’m Min Fucking Yoongi, ring any bells now?” 

The man's face goes white, obviously aware of the name even if he hadn’t known him on sight. 

“I didn’t do anything towards you, man. This is just a little business.” 

“No, see. It doesn’t work like that. When you play a game, you level up and work your ass off before you can fight the boss. You don’t stride into town with a handful of petty thugs and think you can win. You went right after Kim Seokjin, someone who has been at this longer than you’ve been alive, and think you can take him on. It’s only a matter of time before you think you can fuck with me, and that isn’t happening. Where’s the fucking kid?” 

“Look, just give me what I asked for and we can all go home happy, huh? All I wanted was a cut, no big deal to you guys, right?” 

Seokjin growled, sending shivers down Yoongi’s spine. 

“Give me Jungkook. I’m not as nice as Yoongi so I won’t ask again.” 

“And I said give me what I asked for. You want to “play the game” or whatever you geezers were calling it, right? Just-”

A gunshot sounded, a little too close to Yoongi’s ear for his comfort, and the leader fell to the ground. The wound was in the middle of his forehead, a perfect headshot. Yoongi quickly turned behind him and caught Jimin’s eye. He shrugged and huffed. 

“What? I hate it when people let the bad guy talk so much. The whole evil monologue thing is annoying as hell.” 

Yoongi shook his head, but his lips quirked in an amused smirk. Maybe the Park kid wasn’t half bad. 

Yoongi looked over the remaining men, all who looked ready to bolt. 

“Get the fuck out. Or stay, if you want to join your friend here.” 

The remaining thugs ran out of the room, a couple stumbling after Yoongi’s guards tripped them. He sighed as he watched them run for it. It was hard to find good help these days. He knew his men wouldn’t dream of running like cowards. 

“Well, this was a little anticlimactic, wasn’t it?” Hoseok chuckled. 

“Jungkook?!” Seokjin yelled out, trying to guess which of the three doors ahead of them lead to his brother’s location. 

“Kookie baby, you in here?” Jimin joined him in tapping on the doors and peering inside the unlocked ones. 

“IN HERE!” Jungkook’s voice rang from the metal door near the back of the office, where it was, of course, locked from the outside. 

They heard the murmur of duel voices talking excitedly inside the room and Jimin stayed by the door as Namjoon looked around for a key or something. They found the key in the leader’s pocket and rushed to open the door. 

Jimin had his gun pointed towards the other man in the room as Seokjin ran to Jungkook and gathered him up, his former cold exterior melting as he inspected his brother for damage. Jungkook was rumpled from wearing the same clothes for the past couple days but otherwise seemed undamaged.

“I’m okay, Jin, really. Taehyung didn’t let them hurt me. He convinced them they’d get more if they left me alone. We’ve just been in here playing cards and watching Netflix on his phone. It was a nice vacation really, although food service sucked,” Jungkook giggles as he tugged himself from Seokjin’s grasp and walked over to Jimin. 

“Hey babe, I missed you.” 

Jimin lowered his gun and wrapped Jungkook into his arms, tucking his head into the crook of his neck.

“I missed you. Never do that again.” 

“I promise I’ll never get kidnapped again,” Jungkook chuckled, before turning and gesturing towards the other man. “Guys, this is Taehyung. He’s the boss’s brother, but he’s cool.” 

“Yeah? Well, your brother’s dead. I killed him,” Jimin sneered, although the friendly demeanor of Taehyung’s didn’t change. 

He shrugged, still smiling brightly. “ Half brother. He was a dick. Kicked me around a lot. Won’t miss him. So you’re Jimin? Jungkookie wasn’t kidding when he said you were gorgeous. Hello, pretty Jiminie.” 

Yoongi observed the trio with a quirked eyebrow, not even wanting to know where this was going, although watching Jimin flounder and blush under Taehyung’s flirty grin was a little amusing. 

He turned to Seokjin, who was finally starting to wilt now that adrenaline was no longer fueling him. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you in a bed before you collapse.” 

Seokjin beamed down at him as he draped his arm across Yoongi’s shoulders. 

“You called me a pet name,” Seokjin crooned as they wobbled down the steps. 

“Lies and slander.” Yoongi could feel his face heating up, trying to reason with himself that it was just from the effort of trying to lug this giant around. 

“It’s only fair I get to call you one now. Hmm, honey? Pookie? Cupcake?” 

Seokjin’s teasing grin was burning a hole into Yoongi’s brain, he was sure of it. And it stopped altogether when Seokjin’s voice deepened and he whispered, “Baby boy?” right into his ear. 

Yoongi glared up at Seokjin, whose knowing smile only grew in size as Yoongi tried his best to intimidate the other into silence. 

He helped Seokjin into the car and buckled him up before going around and getting into the driver’s seat. The back slowly filled up, Hoseok on Namjoon’s lap and Jimin in Jungkook’s. Taehyung was in the middle for some reason and Yoongi looked at him curiously. 

“Why are you in my car?” 

“He’s coming with me to Jimin’s,” Jungkook mumbled into Jimin’s shoulder as he cuddled into the smaller man. 

“And Jimin is okay with this?” Seokjin asked, peering around his seat as much as his bruised ribs would allow. 

“Yeah. It’s cool,” Jimin answered airily, although Yoongi caught the flash of interest in his eyes as he glanced at Taehyung. 

Yoongi and Seokjin shared a look and decided to drop it. 

The ride back was almost as silent as it was before, although it lacked the tense air. Instead, it was like everyone was basking in relief, relishing the safety of each other. There had been many deaths that night, but as Yoongi took in the relaxed faces of those around him, he couldn’t find it in him to feel guilty.

He rolled into the gravel driveway of his mansion, coming to a stop by the front steps. A couple of his men met them there and opened the car doors for them. Yoongi walked around to help Seokjin out as the rest of them assisted each other out of the back. 

Yoongi backed off and stood awkwardly on his front steps as Seokjin hugged Jungkook, saying goodbye and nagging him into coming home for dinner eventually. Soon Jimin came and collected Jungkook from his clinging older brother and began herding him and Taehyung towards his own car. Yoongi cleared his throat and clasped Jimin’s shoulder to hold him back for a moment. 

“You did good today, kid. I think everyone should meet here at my place tomorrow afternoon, maybe talk about a few things.” 

Jimin raised an eyebrow in surprise. “What? Like a partnership?” 

“Something like that,” Yoongi shrugged. “Gotta admit, you impressed me and it felt good having you on my side. We’ll talk about it more tomorrow.” 

Jimin nodded with a small grin and threaded his arm through Jungkook’s as he led him to his car, with Taehyung already inside waiting for them. Yoongi lifted his hand in a small wave as they drove off before he turned to the rest of the party. 

Hoseok was looking over Seokjin’s arm, while Namjoon made eye contact with Yoongi only to make suggestive eyebrow waggles while gesturing at Seokjin. Who the fuck knew what he was trying to say but Yoongi was having none of it. 

“Are you guys going to take Seokjin straight home or what's the plan?” 

“Actually,” Seokjin laid his hand gently on Yoongi’s shoulder. “I was hoping I could just stay here again tonight? I really don’t feel like having to be in a car again. I’m tired and hungry, and I’d really like one of those pain pills now.” 

Yoongi’s eyes widened as the depth of Seokjin’s exhaustion finally showed in his voice. 

“Fuck, of course! Namjoon, you mind?” 

“On it.” Namjoon gently scooped Seokjin up and started the journey into the mansion and up the stairs. Seokjin smiled sweetly at Yoongi over Joon’s shoulder. 

Yoongi let out a long-suffering sigh and Hoseok patted his shoulder like he understood his pain. 

“I’ll fix you guys something to eat. I’m sure you’re dying for a shower.” Hoseok offered as he walked beside Yoongi into the house. He nodded and quietly thanked Hoseok as he slowly trekked upstairs. 

Yoongi’s own exhaustion was finally hitting him, the adrenaline that had kept him going all day now a thing of the past. He heard the shower going in Seokjin’s room as he passed it, and willed the thought of wet and naked Seokjin far from his mind. Luckily, he was too fatigued for any blood to head where he didn’t want it right now. 

Once his own shower was done and he was clothed comfortably he went next door, finding Seokjin digging into a tray full of food enthusiastically. It looked like there was enough for two, which was probably how Hoseok’s meddling ass intended it. Seokjin waved him over and patted the empty spot next to him on the bed, scooting the tray so it would be in the middle where they both could reach. 

Yoongi took a bread roll and slowly picked it apart, popping a piece into his mouth every now and then. He was hungry, but he was almost too tired to really worry about it. He simply sighed and relished the warm weight of Seokjin sitting next to him as they ate in silence, as Seokjin somehow ate quietly for what must be the first time in his life. 

Once the tray was finished - ninety percent of it consumed by Seokjin - Yoongi picked it up and set it on the floor, planning on taking it with him when he left the room. 

“You already take your pill?” He asked, looking over at the content albeit drained Seokjin settling into his covers. 

“Yeah. Hoseok gave it to me before he and Namjoon went to bed. Did you know he lives here?” 

That was definitely news to Yoongi. He’d known the annoying doctor was around a lot, but not that he shared Namjoon’s room. 

“Next time he tries to bill me I’ll have to tell him it’s part of his rent.” 

Seokjin hummed and scooted closer to Yoongi. The blankets were a bit of a barrier, with Yoongi on top of them as Seokjin was underneath, but it still felt amazingly intimate to Yoongi. 

“Hey,” Seokjin whispered, so close that Yoongi could feel little puffs of air against his side. “You were amazing today. Thank you for helping me.” 

“Yeah, well...” Yoongi shrugged, coughing a bit to cover up his awkwardness. “You know there's nothing I hate more than wannabe thugs.” 

Seokjin gave a little throaty hum and leaned over, pressing a featherlight kiss against Yoongi’s side. Even though all that Seokjin’s lips touched were the cloth of Yoongi’s pajama shirt, it still felt like it was burning his skin. 

“My hero,” Seokjin practically whispered, as his eyes began to drift shut. 

“You’re tired. I’ll leave you to it,” Yoongi practically leap up in a rush to get away and scream in private, but Seokjin reached out and lightly tugged on his shirt. 

“Stay? I feel safer when you stay.” 

And oh fuck, who was he to say no to that? 

Yoongi inhaled a shaky breath and nodded, lifting the covers up to slide underneath. He leaned over and shut off the light before trying to settle in. He stared up at the dark ceiling as his mind tried to process what was happening. Only it got worse, as Seokjin tiredly cooed and slid even closer, draping his good arm around Yoongi and tangling their legs together. He thought this should feel weird or uncomfortable, but as he felt Seokjin’s cheek settling onto his chest and inhaled the freshly washed sandalwood scent of him, it just seemed...right. 

Yoongi was grateful for the dark veil of night as he couldn’t fight off the contented smile growing on his face. He closed his eyes and settled in for the best nights sleep he’d had in years.