#her death pretty freaking heavily affected me

[shaxxophone]

Lol gross sorry the last poll + question i reblogged was from a terf apparently. Got that shit right off my blog

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

||Do we have a deal part 13: Recovery and a date?|| (Final)

Hi everyone, we are back with part 13 or the final chapter for the Do we have a deal mini series.It has all come down to this, but I hope you guys liked the chapters written for this. I know their was a lot of grammar errors and mistakes but it was for fun so yeah.

If you wish to read the last few chapters, they are under the chapter tag. But this is a gift for my partner and friend. The others will be

~~~Chapters so far~~~~

Part 7: Do we have a deal: Start of the second month, their hidden obsession

Part 8: Do we have a deal: Check up Day; A dragon's scarred memory

Part 9: Do we have a deal: Her training continues; a secret between demon sisters

Part 10: Do we have a deal: Closing in on the end of the month

Part 11: Do we have a deal: His purpose, behind the locked demon gate

Part 12: Do we have a deal: Her acceptance of death; birth of a new death god princess

((Your reading part 13)) Final Chapter

||Drabble Summary||

The two months were finally over. Melinda Brooks has returned to New York city but she was heavily scared from her adventure. Now, she was recovering and going through the process of it. Her team was doing their best to help her but Jaron was doing more of it as he was taking the turn of taking care of her or visiting her. But he also had something to say. What will it be? Read to find out.

||Warning||

~Possible confession leading to a date

~A kiss will be present

~Heartfelt talk

||Guests in the Drabble||

Melinda Brooks and Mouse belong to me.

Jaron Jackal and the DBT belongs to my wonderful friend @demon-blood-youths

((Note: Their will be grammar mistakes and errors in this drabble. It was written for fun so please understand. Thanks for that and hope you like.))

~~Timeskip: A few days later~~

Everything in New york has went back to normal like nothing happened. The fractions lived their lives, helping their territories and visiting one another with ease. Though, most of them was more worried about two fractions; the DBT and the Cursed Vixens.

~~Diary Entry 12~~

Dear Diary,

Just writing to give a quick update today.

I can't believe it's already been 6 weeks since Melinda came back home from the devil's realm. Everyone was happy to see her back but...we were still pretty shocked on her return. At first, we were not expecting 'him' *shudders not wanting to write his name* to do so much to her. We had to put her on bed rest for a while but after checking more into what she went through, it seems she had to be sent to the hospital for another check up. They couldn't tell or figure out what happened to her and thought it was physical trauma.

Honestly, I've never seen Melinda so....scared. She didn't want the doctors to check on her, resulting in the screaming and panicking in the room. We heard from the hallway waiting room that even made us jump but Jinx was angry while crying hearing those screams. That really tore her.

Due to how bad she was screaming, they had to give her some medicine to calm her down. Hearing her screams were...painful. The doctor said she was alright but she was to rest up with nothing else. They said to let her just rest and sleep so we did. However, she went right back after two days when coughing out blood. She was staying there for 2 weeks. Maybe it's the after affects of being in the devil realm for so long? Our devils did say it was not normal for a demon like us to be there yet without getting used to it. I heard the air there was heavy and hard to breath at first.

When she got out, we took turns checking on her or watching her but she was really weak at the time. She barley could speak, she couldn't eat without dropping food on herself, same with drinking anything. She even freaks out if someone touches her to suddenly without telling her. That and having trouble sleeping when she wakes up in the middle of the night, crying. We had to be sure she was able to sleep during that time which took a while. Her sleeping is getting better.

Ophelia, Hex, and Swan were checking on her to see her progress but at first, she would freak out from them touching her. After 4 days, she was calm to let them do check ups too. Everyone has been sending get well cards and other things for Melinda's recovery so far and she seems to be doing alright so far. We did get a update on what happened to her.

From what Hex scanned from his point of view, she was...she went through a lot. She suffered some bite marks on her arm to the shoulder, even in more areas like her thighs, her hands, her stomach and chest. Some heavy scarring was seen on her body but it had to be due to the training she went through with that asshole. They got word her eyes were damaged but she healed them. Sever healed burns, bruises visible on her skin, even given a medicine that was to enhance her blood but it really was some drug he made. All in all, it was terrible. The three healers were shocked that even their own faces paled at the thought. Now, she has that healed up scar around her heart where the other black scaring was.

We decided to get answers from the devils but we got told of what happened by Miss Madam and Senkai and even they sounded angry and disgusted. The devils said they were fighting with 'him and his followers' but it seems 'he' was free to roam the devil realm and here but we haven't heard from him since. And honestly, I hope we don't for a while.

Anyway, everyone saw she was still hesitant but getting better with others being around her. Even Jaron..oh dear, poor Jaron was more heartbroken then anyone. Seeing her like that really upset him. Thinking it was his fault that she went through this but we told him it was not his fault. Melinda did it because she wanted to help and save him. The DBT said they were forever grateful for this but Melinda wanted to do this because she cared deeply about him.

Even in the first few days, she wouldn't let anyone touch her but....Jaron was allowed to touch her or give head pets. It seems to calm her. After a while, he would visit to help her out or help her get some fresh air. She was still scared but we didn't mind. Right now, she's with Jaron at the DBT's base since we knew she still was nervous around the others but we get it.

Anyway, this entry is getting too long but I'll write in you again with more updates. Till next time.

~Mouse~

~~With The DBT~~

He was silent during the few days but he was chopping up a apple for her to eat in the kitchen right now. They said she can eat but nothing too heavy to make her sick. Fruit was fine or oatmeal too. The drug was still leaving her system and too much will upset her stomach. However, he looks to see her laying on the couch resting up while breathing in and out slowly. The others were doing their best not to scare her but they would look in the living room just to be sure she was alright and not freaking out.

"......." He looks back to finishing up but was setting the slices on a plate before cleaning up the kitchen and goes to put everything away to walk back gently seeing her resting.

Being careful, he sets the plate down but bends down to gently touch her head.

"!!!!" She tense to open her eyes but calms down seeing who it was.

"Easy it's just me...I..I got you some fruit to eat if you were hungry.." he said showing the plate as Melinda blinks to look at it then sees him carefully help her sit up so he can help her at least eat some of the apple slices.

She reaches with one hand to pick up a slice and eat it while chewing it slowly. The apple was sweet but she could eat it. Jaron was sitting by her but he made sure she took her time eating them. The two remain in silence for a bit but she ate three pieces of the apple with him having a paper towel to help her clean the fingers of the apple. As she was about to eat her fifth piece she stops.

"?????" He noticed to look at her. "Melinda? Are you alrig-"

"...A.....Are you a..angry with me?"

It's been a while since he heard her voice but looks to her as she was looking down at her lap and the apple slice. Wait, mad with her? Why would he be mad?

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"..........." she didn't say anything to let him think about what she means. Of course he took the time to think when his eyes widen to look at her. Oh, that's what she means.

"N..No, no of course I'm not angry with you about.....that. I was more worried than upset but not at you." he said.

"........N..No, I mean...are you angry t..that I....gave myself up in order f..for...s.....su...s..su...s...s.s.s...." she tries to say his name but couldn't, biting on her bottom lip that Jaron tries to calm her down. Even saying his name around her upsets her.

"Don't. Don't say his name. I get it but no. I was more angry at him for what he did and what he and his followers put you through. I wouldn't be since you were the reason I'm still here. You saved me. You saved my life.......because then I wouldn't be...." He looks down knowing what happened but he didn't believe she did that for him.

".......I knew the risks but I couldn't let you get hurt or leave. You been through too much Melinda and..I just.." He tries to say it but thinking about it only upset him and anger him to calm down. Focus Jaron, this is not the time to get angry.

"I couldn't have that. Not again. You already saved me back then from Megan and many other things and this too. I couldn't let more harm come to you again...even if we know the risks, we do things that puts us in danger." He looks to her then ahead as Melinda looks down at her apple slice.

"I..I know..I just wanted t..to keep you safe. I didn't want the others t..to lose you.." she mutters but Jaron said nothing to look at her.

"But that goes for you too. Your friends wouldn't want to lose you either. Your part of their team but your also our friend...and..someone important.." he carefully reaches about to touch her other hand but was worried it might freak her out to lay it near hers.

"I know it was scary during the two months but I knew and hoped you were going to be alright. I Just wanted nothing more than to see you back safe in New york with us. With.....me." he said but he sighed to close his eyes.

"When I found out when waking up, I was shocked and worried for the few days. I thought it was my fault that you did that to help bring me back to life. You went through hell for two months and made it back....e..even if you..." he started to say but Melinda finishes his words.

"D..died when re..returning."

He winces hearing that word but he looks quiet then sighed. "Y..Yeah...I knew the feeling was right when I felt you....did but I felt relief knowing you were safe again and back..I just panicked and..."

"............" she looks down but sets the apple piece down to clean her hands slowly but Jaron takes the paper towel and cleans her fingers for her. He saw the small bruises too but said nothing.

"....S...so your not a..angry w..with me? After ev..everything that hap..happened..you were...o...okay.." she whispered but Jaron looks to stop cleaning her fingers to hold her hands.

"No. I'm not angry with you. I never was because I was more worried about you. Knowing all of us or me couldn't do anything to help you. Our devil's couldn't help you. We couldn't do anything but wait. I did wanna say I'm sorry.." he said but Melinda was confused.

"S..sorry?"

"I'm sorry..I'm so so sorry you went through that just to help bring me back to life as his payment. I didn't want you to suffer through that but....I was just so upset with myself that you got so hurt by him." He frowns but Jaron only held her hands to remove the paper towel now looking at her hands.

"You were hurt so much. I couldn't take seeing that again and again and yet it did. You got hurt way back before we met and now this. I don't know how to say sorry to you Melinda but I feel like I need to. I just hope you can forgive me that you went through that just to sacrifice yourself like that for me...." He said looking down but Melinda said nothing but it hurt to hear him say that.

However, he only looks to see her hands as the fingers wrap around his own then feeling tears hitting his. He looks up to see Melinda but was quiet. She was crying? Her silver eyes were wide but she was crying to look down.

"....Melinda?"

"....I'm s..sorry....I Just wanted to keep y..you safe. I didn't want y..you to get hurt either. I really wanted to do everything to be sure you were safe...you didn't deserve that..I couldn't let you go through that..I couldn't.." she begins to shake that her tears were hitting her and his hands as Jaron got worried.

"I..I Just...I just wanted to protect you. I wanted to see you safe..I just.....*Hics* I just wanted you to be h..happy. I..." she was shaking now but moves her hands to cover her eyes trying to wipe the tears off.

"I didn't c..care if I got hurt, tortured, or even killed. You being alive and safe means m..more to me. I couldn't bare the thought.." she cried but Jaron was worried.

"Melinda-"

"I didn't c..care....you deserve to live Jaron. You and everyone else deserve to live happy lives.."

"Melinda..."

"Even through all that I..I wanted you to come back to them..t..to me. I couldn't...I couldn't bare the thought of losing you!" she said crying more.

"Melinda!"

"Even if I was killed over and over again, then that means you would be safe and alive-"

"BUT IT WOULDN'T MEAN ANYTHING TO ME IF YOU DIED FOR ME!" he raised his voice to grab her shoulders making her look at him. "Think about it. How do you think I would feel if you left? It wouldn't be the same if the one I.....cared about left this world because of me. I couldn't forgive myself! I felt angry at myself that you went through that for me to risk your safety and freedom to that monster." he looks at her but she was still crying.

".....I..."

"I couldn't forgive myself if you left me for good. Your part of my life like you told me. I'm part of yours right? Isn't it hurtful that if either one of us left we wouldn't be happy as we were.....we have our friends true but..this pain would be different. Because we lost someone who we grew closer with." he lowers his hands but looks to her but she looks down still sniffling.

"...I..I'm s..sorry...I'm s..so sorry..." she said to him but Jaron touches her cheek while she still kept crying from the thought. His hand was gentle but she only sniffs.

"It's alright. I should be thanking you..I owe you my life. You saved me remember? So I really should be thanking you.." He looks to her but carefully pulls her close to hold her while she was resting her head on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat.

"However, it's over now. Your back home and your safe.....that's all that matters to me. Your back safe and alive with your friends..and me." he said but she only keeps letting him hold her that she grips his shirt to look at him. He looks down but she saw he was happy that she was here.

"........."

"Now please no more tears....." he said gently wiping the tears off with his thumbs as Melinda looks at him. Jaron was silent but she only held his wrist to have him look confused. She didn't say anything with them looking at one another before she leans up close to him as he looks at her with the same expression.

Both him and her said nothing before he and her closes the gap. She kissed him right on the lips softly while he held her cheek. They shared a quiet kiss for a few moments but during that time, Rust and Navarro walked in but stops seeing this.

Jaron and Melinda were kissing! The two was about to say something but Shdwkyz grabs the two by the shirts to drag them away quietly.

"But he-"

"Shhhhh.....for once don't be idiots." he warns but not loud for Jaron and Melinda to hear. "Just leave them alone alright?" he warns but the two grumble to leave but they also were happy because they won a bet having Fin and Guam pay 20 bucks each if they would kiss before this month's over.

"I was right though! He and her need to get married I mean come on!! They kissed man!!" Rust said loud.

"And we get $20 bucks each!" Navarro said loud by mistake.

"WILL YOU TWO BE QUIET!" Shdwkyz said loudly but this made Jaron and Melinda break the kiss to hear as he was blushing to look but then sighed.

".....Figured that was gonna happen." he mutters but Melinda was blushing still sniff to look at him. He looks to the side but sighed to look at her.

"Ummmm, one other thing Melinda.....if it's alright, do you...." he rubs the back of his head but Melinda looks to him.

"Y..Yes?"

".....Would you like to go o..on a date with me? I can take you to somewhere special when your ready to go or when your recovered. If that's alright." he said but Melinda was speechless only to look at her lap but hid her flushed face.

"..S...sure I would love t..to.." she said that Jaron looks seeing her poking her two fingers together but he smiled to kiss her forehead as she closed her eyes to relax now. For now, he was helping her with recovering.

Later that day, Jaron was petting Melinda's head as she was taking a light nap. Her head was resting on his lap while she ate the slices though, he sweatdrops hearing Rust and Navarro spilling that the two kissed. He shook his head lightly chuckling but he was happy to know Melinda was back here safe.

Now he had a date to plan for the later future. Seems this ended alright and he was happy for it.

~~End~~

[yanderenightmare]

ooh I wanna see ua bakugo frustrate with his affection over this clueless moron, kinda like shoto, like he gives her like a flower and she's just like wuut .__.

yandere ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

This is so cute, I can’t. Don’t know if this is what you wanted hahahaha, but I have a weak spot for like Luna Lovegood girls, like Alice in Wonderland derpy pigtailed pastel Melanie Martinez lookin’ cupcakes. And made this still in the UA au... hope that’s ok!

goodiebag WARNINGS: slight yandere, slight dubcon theme, profanity, anxiety, hallucinations, stalking

SCARY LOVE

He felt like such a stalker, like a wolf hiding in the grass, just a disgusting waste of a human being standing and ogling her from the safe distance, far enough away that she wouldn’t care to look up, but just close enough to see the color in her eyes from where she was planted in the shade under the campus willow-tree.

Why was she so fucking cute?

Her locks knotted up into two big messy buns, big splendid pastel bows tying them both into place, one blue, the other pink, matching puffy scrunchies decorating both her wrists. Cute. Small wisps of light flowing hair falling in front of her face, tickling her nose, making it scrunch like a how bunny would every now and again. Cute. White ruffled socks reaching halfway up her leg. Cute. Her knees baring pastel-colored band-aids and small scrapes and purple bruises, in the same state her elbows were. Cute. Nimble fingers handling the book that seemed so out-of-place in its size where it weighed down heavily in her lap. She looked like such a fucking fairytale. A soft-tinted cotton-candy daydream. 

Ready to have his bloody hands fuck up everything.

Bloody hell. What the fuck is he doing?

He can’t just stand there like some lovesick freak and do nothing, simply waiting for the school-bell to sound off its alarm, making her jump up like a little bunny popping up from its rabbit-hole where she’ll struggle with carrying that ridiculous book and sit down in class only to daydream about going back outside, but not before she’ll walk past him, allowing him to smell that sweet perfume that always has his heart clenching furiously in his chest and his cock growing warm and heavy in his pants.

What is wrong with him?

He can’t be thinking of her like that. This sweet precious little flower sitting so quietly with no wish to bother anyone, so soft and sweet he bet she’d cry if she so much as stepped on an ant. He wondered if she was a crier, if she’d be this adorable little crybaby ball of sobs and wet moans beneath him. He wondered what types of sound she’d make if he shoved his cock inside her. If she’d squeal and gasp and hiccup at his size, if she’d mewl, if she’d whimper, if she’d scream.

Fuck.

He needed to calm the fuck down.

To think he would never have met her if he hadn’t been forced to sign up to that stupid side-course. To think he was so mad that he didn’t make the cut for the class about war-theory and was forced to take philosophy with a bunch of air-headed freaks instead. To think he almost didn’t meet her. To think- fuck, he’s even starting to sound like one of them fucking philosophy-ditzes.

To be or not to be, or to drool over the girl sitting beneath the willow-tree.

Maybe that’s what he should submit next time they have one of those moronic poetry sessions. Perhaps then she would look at him with interest, with surprise and even praise, maybe even reverence, mirroring the look he gives her when she stands on the podium reciting her swirling words and artful descriptions, looking as though she’s entirely in her own world, dreaming, not just speaking but preaching, preaching to him about gods he’s never heard of yet somehow always believed in.

He used to believe gods drank blood and could only be celebrated through pain, that they made creatures like him, crafted him from dragon bones and fire and everything sharp and deadly, crafting him from war for war to become war itself, to find purpose in conquering, to find worth in glory. But now… looking at this creature, this creature who celebrates life and not death through laughter and daydreams and love far away from pain, he knows he’s had it all wrong.

He’s no good with words. He never has been. Except when insulting people, then he turns into a fucking lyric. What she can do is a gift. Either that, or she’s simply just insane. Either way, he doesn’t really care. She’s still soft, a tender type of madness, sweet and small and would look so good with a couple of love-bites to crash that display of milk and cream and cotton, so fucking brilliant with his handprint marking her ass… and he’s doing it again.

Fuck.

None of that will happen if he doesn’t grow a pair and go talk to her. But he can’t just talk to her. He has nothing to say. Or he has plenty to say, but nothing she could hear. He needed to find the most straightforward approach, however… while it needed to be unmistakable or lest she misunderstand, it couldn’t be aggressive. That would frighten her and he couldn’t risk spooking her away. He couldn’t risk ruining everything. It was apparent she didn’t think too much of him except that he was an angry looking boy in her Friday-classes, he needed to prove he too could be… sweet… or at least something akin to it.

He was wrong in thinking that anything would make her look up from her book. Even as he stood a mere meter away from her, she didn’t look up, completely lost and submerged in her own world as she always was. Only when he cleared his throat did she finally lift her gaze, eyes fluttering from traveling the pages and blinked softly to look up at him.

Cute.

He forgot to say anything, with a hand reached out, fisting the air, knuckles whitening in his grip, where inside the seemingly furious hand was something to contrast his otherwise deadly red stare.

The look of puzzlement on her face was insurmountable. Her small hands giving no indication to receive whatever he was offering.

“Is this a threat?” Came her soft voice, shaking him out of the faze he’d slipped into, though quickly plunging him into another one, this time not so much anticipation but confusion.

“What? No!” The both of them simply looked at each other for a moment. Bakugo’s hand still protruding out towards her, the thing in his hand no more tempting to accept than before to the girl who was still planted, making no action to get up from her spot.

“I don’t understand…” She admitted, wondering if he perhaps wanted her seat in the shade, but wasn’t given the time to ask the question as he decided to clear things up.

“It’s a flower.”

She could see that. It was a flower ripped from its root, an otherwise healthy flower before being suffocated in Bakugo’s death-grip.

“It’s a dead flower…” She corrected, a hint of sorrow on her features and he knew he was already failing in his pursuit, wanting to make things right before they could derail even more.

“It’s pretty... like you.” That came out as even more an ominous threat he realized, indicating she’d end up like the proven pretty dead flower in his chokehold.

“Are you sure this isn’t a threat?” The fact that she felt the need to ask him not only once but twice told him all he needed to know of her thoughts regarding him. She obviously thought he was a deranged explosive beast from the Hero-course.

“Goddamn it, no, I…” He frustrated, finding it hard to arrange the words, finding it hard to even find the words. “You… You’re so… You-” She was oblivious to how much he was struggling it seemed, as her personality suddenly shifted and she jumped up, book thrown to her side rather recklessly, skirt with ruffles and all bouncy with the same vigor as her tits.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together, eyes wide with such bright light Bakugo almost felt blinded by, it even managing to frightened him a bit. “Thank you, that’s very good to know! I’d be terrified if I was anyone but me!” His brows lifted in dawning realization, feeling safer by being calmed by the reminder of how he was talking to a ditz, a complete mental-case… though… a mental-case who’d managed to dance her way and get lost in his heart. “Pardon me for being so blunt, but I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t ask.” Preparing him for her question, she leant in just a bit more, looking at him intently. “Are you yourself today, Bakugo?”

As absurd as the question was to him, when it rolled off her tongue it nearly seemed like the most casual of things to ask someone, as though she was requesting his thoughts on the weather. And though it was the epitome of peculiar, the more he thought about it, the more he realized how appropriate the question was, because he were, in fact, not at all feeling like himself.

“… No.”

She gave a contemplative look and a hum. “Then you must be Baku-gone…” He couldn’t hold back the snort that followed her statement, again being reminded of what a complete klutz she was, something so far away from his cynical view of the world and something far more relaxing than what his fears had managed to conjure of her rejection. It seemed so ridiculous now, that he’d thought she would run away or scream, never having let himself imagine her in what he knew was her true nature, light-hearted and incapable of doing any harm, at least not on purpose. “Wow, you really must be, huh?” She continued, fishing him out of his curt chuckling. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh. Come to think of it… I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you smile.” She mused, admiring the small pleasantness stretched upon his face.

But then his brows furrowed, the happiness seeping from his features and leaving them contorted with annoyance, much to her dismay, regretting her choice of words. “I smile.” He argued, looking at her as though demanding she explain herself.

She cocked her head to the side, eyeing him, scrunching her brows and biting her lip for a second or two as though she were in deep thought, not wanting to upset him any further, though not wanting to speak without candidness. “No… you… bare teeth… like a wolf eager to catch its prey.” His ears retracted, features taken aback by her observation, finding he couldn’t quite say otherwise, though he’d never viewed it that way, but again, the more he thought about it, the more all her strange words made sense as he found them to be true. Silly of him to think his wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing approach could fool her, silly of him to think he could fool himself into believing she’d ever consider going out with someone so… predatory.

Though, minds are easily swayed, he reminded himself of. Her opinion of him wasn’t set in stone after all. “Does it scare you?” He finally asked, finding that was the only thing he was actually curious about. Though… perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing if she did fear him just a bit, because god knows how terrified he is of her and how she makes him feel as though he’s bleeding or falling or stripped of everything, cut by the knees and naked and so very needy to have her just look at him.

“I would say no, but I cannot lie.” His heart sunk upon hearing her admit it, disappointed, not sure if it was in her or in him.

She’s scared… Of course, she is scared! Who wouldn’t be? Dumb of him to think anything else.

“But, that’s rather the point isn’t it? To scare people?” She took a step forward, eyes bright and hopeful, hating to think she’d upset him.

“Not you.” It was barely above a whisper, words simply cast out there, and it left the girl looking perplexed, curious and even guilt-stricken or ashamed.

“Well… I shouldn’t fear things I know too little about… that would be silly…” She felt the urge to touch him, wanting him to truly hear her words, wanting to enforce them by touch, yet as her hands reached out to take his all so brazenly her eyes fell upon the flower again. She didn’t really have any wish to touch something dead, it always being such a cold and empty feeling running like ice through her veins, yet she reached out to receive the flower anyway, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “So, if not my fear, what is it this Bakugone wishes of me then?” She slipped on a tender smile, genuine and perfect, her soft fingertips brushing against his.

“I…” He was so focused on how she was touching him, the pressure, the elegance, the perfection, so focused he forgot the words again, so focused on her soft fingertips, her warmth, her pastel-manicured nails, he didn’t realize how the movement had stilled.

“You want to eat my heart.”

Her voice made him look up from where they were conjoined, crimson orbs dragged slowly to meet the oddity of her voice no less her words, yet as he looked, he continued to search because he found no eyes looking back at him, only whites, wide gleaming glowing void whites staring at him.

“You want to rip open my ribcage and feast.” Shaken and confused his brows twisted as he yet again tried to find her eyes. “You want to see me burst and bloom for you.” He hadn’t tried pulling his hand away, not really wanting to either, but he realized he perhaps wouldn’t be able to even if he’d wanted with how hard she was now digging her once soft fingers into his wrist. “You want to cripple me. You want to hear my deathbed confession. You want to lick the sin from my expression.” Her brows were the ones to crinkle now as she inhaled a shuddering breath, her hand shaking as she held onto him, seemingly as though her life depended on it. “You want and you’ve been wanting for so long. You want and want, there’s no end to what you want.” Her voice was now frantic, sporadic, hitched and frightened. “You want more and more and more and more and more-” She shook so much she lost her footing and tripped, staggering back and hitting the dirt with a sharp thud, knocking her out of whatever trance she’d slipped into, no more words coming thundering from her lips except for a cute little exclamation of oof, fluffy skirt puffed out around her like a jellyfish.

“What the fuck!” He shouted once she let go, flower falling to the floor, dropped in the midst of his shock and confusion as to what had happened, yet also feeling embarrassed with how she’d seemed to have caught him red-handed, and shaken with how much she knew, disturbed with how it all had been phrased, yet concerned, concerned because he knew he’d failed, he’d scared her so much she nearly melted, but somehow even more concerned with how she’d hit the ground. “I’m-” She looked up at him and he was left dumbstruck with how wide her eyes were and how full they now seemed with the return of her irises and pupils. No longer looking like wax, but like great gems or galaxies he couldn’t help but fall prey to, especially with how glossy they were, shining and glimmering and wet, wet with tears.

“No wonder you feel gone.” She suddenly mumbled, or it wasn’t exactly a mumble, but in contrast to whatever voice she spoke in before it surely seemed subdued. “Someone’s run off with your heart!” She clumsily got back to her feet, gripping his shoulders, nearly making him stagger back and fall with just how intense and vivid her actions were thrown at him. “You’re in love!” She squealed, nearly screaming it at him, before reeling herself back in, probably only now realizing how she’d attacked the boy. “Excuse me, I mean pardon, I mean I’m terribly sorry if I frightened you.” She backed away, fingers playing with each other as she tumbled through her sentence. “It’s my quirk you see. It has a habit of living its own life. I didn’t mean to spout out your desires like that, it was a total invasion of your privacy and completely rude and unethical on my side. I really am so sorry. Would you forgive me?”

Wasn’t he the one who should be apologizing to her?

He remained stunned and confused and growing even more so by the second as she spoke. “Perhaps I could make it up to you? Perhaps I can help you in your quest to retrieve your heart? Who is the thief?”

And there it was.

She was so overwhelmed she didn’t even pick up who the emotions were for.

Silly thing.

This made him ease up. He hadn’t spoiled everything yet. In fact, she seemed even more enthusiastic now than before, even more eager to talk to him and help him even. “Is it that green-haired boy? What was his name again? Something with D or M, I can’t for the life of me remember! Or perhaps it’s the floaty one? You know, the one with the big brown eyes. No! I know who it is, it’s the one with the shark teeth, and the spikey red hair-” She rambled, and even though some of her suggestions revolted him, he couldn’t bring himself to stop her when she was so… so bouncy with thrill, so cute with how her tits squeezed together in her top and jumped for him with every word that fell from those lushes pink lips that would feel so good to bite into and feel on his neck and down his chest and-

“You can help me.” He suddenly blurted, whipping her from her rambling.

“Really?!” Big eyes, filled with such expectancy and acceptance of whatever he was about to request even without a shred of knowing what. “How?” It was as though it were her life wish to help, that denying him would mean death or something even worse in her eyes.

“By making it up to me.”

His grin returned, the one that lacked… not exactly happiness, because there was still a certain glee to it, a certain enjoyment, yet lacking altruism and was instead left looking greedy and gluttonous and as though he was made up of… teeth, and only teeth, and too many teeth, and that those teeth were too sharp.

“Oh.” She seemed drained of her vigorous passion, like a light snuffed out, swallowing thickly. And though she knew it all to be in her head, knew it all to be but a figment of her fears, she still took a step back as though she’d seen something that worried her, and was quickly followed by what had worried her as Bakugo paralleled her backtracking, leaving her no further away from his hungry open-mouthed smirk.

“Kiss me.” She realized she’d backed all the way into the tree, her back meeting the hard trunk seemed to shake her from her vision as the biting image submerged and left her with a quite normal-looking Bakugo towering over her, no longer Bakugone or just a toothy grin, and she was left deciding whether it was any better or maybe even worse than what she had been picturing.

Yet, she had no time to think as Bakugo’s hand raised to cup her cheek, where in the seconds it took for him to do so, she needed to prepare herself for all his obsessive lovesick thoughts she knew would yet again flood her mind, only now she wouldn’t shake from them, and what more, now she knew who they were about. Poor thing had taken Bakugo’s heart without knowing, without knowing to prepare for Bakugo’s blood-stained scarred hand to reach into her chest and hold her own terror-wide heart in a chokehold as he too took it for himself. Without knowing how to protect herself from his many sharp teeth that would steal and eat to satiate what livid hungry fire, what desperate thirst she’d awoken inside his heart, to relieve the pain of it all, to finally breath again, to find safety, to find belonging, to find life. And she had no way of preparing for it, no way of protecting herself from it, no way of hiding from Bakugo’s sharp teeth… but when his hand, his calloused sandpaper-textured palm handled her cheek she was met with a new image, a soft-tinted mellow yet dramatic rhapsodic fire, one that she rather cherished than feared, one that she felt like chasing, one that seemed like it was calling her.

Bakugo leaned in slowly, as though asking for permission, receiving no complaints, just a set of large eyes staring at him. Her hands, feeling as though their fingertips had plunged deep into the bark of the tree behind her, ripped loose to touch him, feeling the simmering plethora of brutally violent passions swimming beneath them as they hovered on top of his skin. Tasting it on her tongue as he captured her soft lips with his own stiff ones. She could taste the hunger, the teeth, the longing, the pain, the fire, the waiting and time he’d suffered in the darkness all alone, she could taste the war, but more… she could taste the fear, the fear of losing or not having at all, and at the very tip of her tongue, stronger than anything else, she caught it, the flavor crystalized like sugar… hope… love.

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

[forevercloudnine]

new 52 riddler origin/timeline

I noticed an older 2017 post by @batriddler​ about Edward’s possible New 52 origin story was going around again, so I thought I’d make a timeline adding what we’ve learned about his origins since then through The Riddler: Year of the Villain (2019).

Childhood

So Year of the Villain brings back several elements of Edward’s original backstory. The first was that, as a child, he won a puzzle contest and became fixated on that moment of victory for the rest of his life.

Unlike previous iterations of the character, however, there’s no obvious indication that Edward cheated in order to win it (other than the looming shadow of his future careers). Whether he won it fairly or not, winning the trophy was a turning point for him because it was the first time he was given undiluted positive attention, something he wasn’t getting at home.

Edward’s mother is heavily, HEAVILY implied to be an alcoholic (like there are even more bottles lying around in this panel, I cut them out for the screenshot), and he himself implies in the narration that she was neglectful to the point that he pretty much had to raise himself. Interestingly, there’s no mention of an abusive father, which is the bog standard for Riddler backstories in previous continuities. There’s nothing contradicting the existence of an abusive father in addition, so obviously there’s room for headcanons here (though I’m enjoying that Jonathan’s New 52 daddy issues replacing his retconned Post-Crisis mommy issues was finally mirrored by Edward’s Post-Crisis daddy issues being retconned and replaced with New 52 mommy issues. It’s equality).

[Side note: apparently his actual birth name in the New 52 IS Edward “Nygma,” which is also a return to form to his first origin. Personally I’m much fonder of him being born “Nashton” and changing his name as an adult, but that’s just me.]

He says that winning the trophy was the first time he “felt like [he] meant something,” which would seem to indicate that before this he’d internalized his mother’s neglect into a low sense of self worth. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like the high of winning it lasted very long, since his classmates weren’t very appreciative of his victory (which is also very in line with Edward’s previous origins, especially Chuck Dixon’s take in Questions Multiple the Mystery).

There’s not much other information about his childhood available, though Batman Annual #4 does seem to indicate that unlike many of Batman’s other villains, he did grow up in Gotham.

This is just based on him telling Bruce that “all of Gotham City” watched him grow up, and that Edward in particular read and watched a lot of tabloid news about Bruce when they were adolescents (is this a Batman Forever reference??? It’s probably not a Batman Forever reference).

Teenage Years

Assuming we’re supposed to take Bruce’s heat-of-the-moment psychoanalysis in Zero Year seriously (Edward is clearly irritated by it, so... confirmation?), Edward’s desire for attention in childhood results in him breaking into corporate data banks and government safe-blocks as a teenager.

Given what Edward is capable of in Zero Year, this definitely doesn’t seem out of the realm of possibility, but it’s deeply hilarious in the context of what Year of the Villain confirmed he was (also?) doing as a teenager, which is working as a carnie.

I cannot tell you how hilarious I would find it if THIS is the “questionable past” that Bruce’s Uncle Phillip was talking about during Zero Year, but presumably he’s referring to the same kind of high profile crimes that Bruce was.

But seriously, how funny would it be if he was just talking about how Edward literally ran away from home to join the circus as a teenager...

Adulthood

The 2017 post theorizes that Edward started working for Phillip at Wayne Enterprises in his early twenties, and started earning the various degrees you can see stacked up in a corner in the image above during his employment there. That would seem to fit with this timeline, since I’m not willing to add “earned six different university degrees” to teenage years that are apparently already packed full of ripping off carnival goers AND corporate espionage.

In Batman Annual #4 there is the BAREST indication that Edward might have started working at Wayne Enterprises early into Bruce’s sabbatical abroad, since he talked about how “for months” there were nightly vigils at Wayne Tower where there were so many flowers people would have to cross the street not to step on them. Presumably this would have only been in the first year of Bruce’s disappearance, when Bruce was 18; at the very least this indicates that Edward still lived in Gotham when Bruce left, though it would make more sense for him to be visiting Wayne Tower as Phillip’s strategist than as a hacker/carnie.

In general though, Edward’s Zero Year plan is so ridiculously complex that I think it’s reasonable to assume that he took as long to prepare for his debut as Riddler as it took Bruce to train to be Batman.

[Another side note: Not to accuse Edward of projecting or anything (God forbid), but I think it’s interesting that Edward puts so much emphasis on criticizing Bruce for “disappearing for years” and “making everyone think he’s dead” in combination with the COMPLETE absence of his father from his origin story as presented in Year of the Villain.]

I do think it’s fascinating that Edward’s New 52 origin veers away from the whole “cheating” thing that’s so central to his character in previous continuities - not that he DOESN’T cheat when he feels like it (the whole carnie thing), but it’s not presented as an insecurity of his, and here he’s genuinely intelligent enough to mastermind crimes without needing to move the goalposts at the last second (cough Arkhamverse Riddler COUGH).

One final thing from Edward’s adult life that I think could relate back to his origin comes from Batman #23.2, “Solitaire.”

The issue starts with a flashback of Edward having a deck of playing cards confiscated from him in Arkham because he was playing Solitaire (like, genuinely playing Solitaire; he actually wasn’t plotting anything, it was just for stress relief). The comic is his quest for violent revenge against the Arkham guard who took his cards, which initially seems like a pretty average example of Riddler Brand Pettiness, but the story goes out of its way to highlight how much this really bothered him.

The Arkham Guard has moved on to become the head of security at Wayne Enterprises, so to get revenge Edward has to break into his old place of employment. An unexpected altercation with one of the executives leads Edward to totally freak out over her “touching” him, and afterwards he goes to meditate in her old office in order to calm down. His attempt to relax is interrupted by his old Arkham tormentor, who gets in a couple shots at him before Edward takes his revenge...

...which is BLOWING UP THE ARM that the guard used to take away the “small comfort” Edward had in Arkham. Afterwards, he goes up to the roof to play Solitaire, seeming to finally relax from his agitation earlier.

Given Edward’s isolation and neglect in childhood, it would make sense for him to have ended up playing Solitaire a lot: it’s a game that doesn’t require involvement from friends or family, but still requires a player to use strategy and skill despite the lack of an opponent.

[Yet another side note related to the previous side note: Batman is ACTUALLY dead during Solitaire, which takes place after Joker’s Endgame arc. Bruce and Joker are of course later resurrected through shenanigans, so Edward is right to think he’ll be seeing Batman again. But Riddler sitting on the Wayne Enterprises rooftop, indulging in a self-described “small comfort,” waiting for a man who’s disappeared to miraculously show up again is really interesting. Again, not to accuse him of projecting or anything, but... where’s your dad, Edward...]

His affection for Solitaire is also interesting, in the sense that one could argue that’s what he’s doing in Zero Year: playing a game with himself. He’s challenging other people to play with him through his “riddle” game, and he’s clearly prepared for the possibility of having an opponent (given that he has a whole rainbow disco death trap room set up at the end of Zero Year, which he seems DELIGHTED to have a chance to use), but he’s not expecting to have one. Whether this is a perspective rooted in his childhood or not, it seems to have changed after Zero Year, based on his riddle for Batman in “Alone.”

[cybernaght]

Guardian rewatch: Episode 3

First of all, wow. When I decided to post those online, I was expecting that they would be read by two people, both of whom I personally know. It was in equal part surprising and terrifying that so many of you ventured here. Thank you for reading, I really appreciate it. 

Episode 3 is probably my favourite case. It’s not perfectly strung together, there is little actual investigative work in it, but it’s a beautiful story of boundless love and devotion, which echoes through the relationship between our protagonists

Professor Shen is looking at some materials that are looking suspiciously like research into something supernatural, when Zhang Ruonan makes an appearance at his office, claiming that she is absolutely fine, while clearly being very far away from fine. This is something Shen Wei can certainly relate to, because he is the king of hiding his ailments from others. 

Zhu Hong’s one-sided affection for Zhao Yunlan starts to show already in this episode:  while he has the cold, she nags him to take care of himself, shoves tissues into his hands, and presses him to drink his meds. It’s easy to imagine even this early on that she will be the woman drunk dialling him one day. 

I know this could be seen as straightbaiting, but I honestly thing that the actual purpose it serves in the show is the opposite; I’ll talk more about it when we get there.

Zhao Yunlan spends a lot of this episode in Shen Wei’s office, starting with this scene, in which is obviously flexing. Not only does he sneeze all over the office, he goes to eat Shen Wei’s cake after specifically being told not to eat it.  He also takes his opportunity to mix questioning with flirting, as is his usual way. He keeps eye contact while spooning cake into his mouth, as he explains, jovially, that another mysterious death on his campus cannot possibly be a coincidence. And, to be fair, he is not really wrong. We are meant to believe that this is all set in motion by Zhu Jiu, aka the least scary villain in the history of villainy, and an owner of your staple baby goth wig. I will not mention him again until the plot makes it impossible for me not to do so. 

Zhang Ruonan comes in, and Zhao Yunlan introduces himself as Shen Wei’s good friend. Which is half-way between a flex and an act of kindness. On one hand, he could have said he was from the police - which would be absolutely true - and risk tarnishing the professor’s good name. On the other hand, he could probably look less pleased with himself. Shen Wei, at the very least, looks neither grateful, nor amused. 

Zhao Yunlan asks her if she new the victim and she looks incredibly shifty as she flees. He is right to think that something is up, and he correctly assumes trauma, rather than guilt. We can now start to see that he is very very good at reading people. It must be equal parts thrilling and disconcerting for him to have met something who he decisively cannot read. Shen Wei vouches for the woman, partly, surely, because his Hei Pao Shi sense is tingling, letting him know that someone is eavesdropping. 

Despite feeling uneasy, Shen Wei still offers Guo Changcheng, who is left to collect various paperwork from his desk, a little smile. He has a reason to like Xiao Guo, of course: he was the one to see the young man’s kindness and understanding, and he is already growing protective of him, way before he will start seeing members of the special unit as his people. This reminds me of how many months later, he will subtly, but decisively stop a barrage of verbal abuse against Xiao Guo by dropping a pair of chopsticks. 

Zhao Yunlan is taking Xiao Guo with him on the case rather than anyone else, partly, supposedly, because of Guo Changcheng’s familial connections. The young man looks more sure of himself, asking correct questions, dutifully records answers. He also tries to look after his Chief by asking him to go home and rest. He does phrase it badly, but Zhao Yunlan has a thing against his own health and well-being, so he reacts extra poorly.

Soon after, Zhao Yunlan’s at Shen Wei’s office yet again, as Shen Wei tries his best to ignore him, in the hope that he… well, maybe not goes away, but does not ask him anything that will require him lying. Instead, Zhao Yunlan is asking Shen Wei why he is bad at reading people, which is a very strange thing to ask. Shen Wei answers his question with a question, “Will seeing through people really lessen the hurt and disappointment?” Adding, “Many tragedies were destined from the beginning”. He looks well.. like this as he says it. 

This is loaded. On first glance, it’s a pretty good set-up to the way this story will unfold, as a tragedy of two individuals who let their devotion to each other nearly ruin each other’s life. A fragile human and a dangerous powered Undergroundian: what else is that, but a tragedy, waiting to happen? But this story - this one right in front of us - will not end tragically, at least not for the two people it enters around. It could do so, but it will not. Maybe, this truly is the first hint that this entire narrative, so carefully set up from the very first time Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei meet, is destined to be a tragedy. Moreover, that it must be one, for some cosmic reason. 

(… I apologise while I go have a little cry in the corner. Damn you, Guardian, why do you make me hurt so much?)

Da Qing inexplicably morphs from black cat to a human in white t-shirt while doing night shadowing, and promptly falls asleep on patrol. Why is he being sent to stake anyone out? He is least suitable for it.  He is literally a cat. He sleeps 16 hours a day. 

Surprisingly, when pressed, Zhang Ruonan comes clean very easily, revealing that she was a victim of the three students she failed (two of which are already dead and one one standing right next to them), who lured her out at night, which left her vulnerable to be attacked. Zhao Yunlan listens to this story, and instead of… oh I don’t know, perhaps asking her the identity of the third student, leaves to go find that out for himself. It is heavily implied that he does it on purpose, which is definitely not okay.  

Moreover, he goes and... asks Shen Wei. This makes me suspect that he’s not really thinking with his head at this point. As he does so, he is brandishing a letter opener. 

Shen Wei is looking even less impressed with him than he did during their last few conversations. 

Zhao Yunlan is a little bit flippant when it comes to students’ lives this episode. And yes, they have done something really quite horrible to another human being, but that's not a very good excuse to let the last of them just die. As it happens, the situation Yunlan created - perhaps on purpose - did lure out Zhao Ruonan’s murder girlfriend, but it also cost a student his life. Which is far from ideal, but is somehow never even mentioned. Instead of being aghast, he sits on the table as he goes into full interrogation mode. (As he will continue to do a lot. Sometimes he crouches on tables instead. There is no further point here, apart from: I like this character quirk. It’s a nice character quirk.)

He brings some of his team in at this point, and asks Zhu Hong to continue interrogation. It would be a nice gesture is he did not interject two questions in. 

“How do you regard your relationship with Wang Yike?”

“We are family.”

They are definitely, decisively not going for sisterly bond here. Which is kind of incredible. This is one of the moments the amorphous being that show is looks at the censors, wiggles its battered low budget eyebrows at them, and then proceeds to flip them off. Well done, Guardian. 

Wang Yike calls Zhang Ruonan, saying there is one more victim she needs to take care of, and Lin Jing traces the call back to campus. Zhao Yunlan, who did not even bat an eyelid at a dead student earlier, now looks decisively worried  

“Oh no. Professor Shen.” 

The only reason Shen Wei is attacked is jealousy. Wang Yike does not know this of course, but trying to kill him is a bad move, because a) he has long ago given his heart away, and is definitely not interested; b) this is probably the only thing she could do to make the man on the case very very upset; c) Shen Wei’s immune to her powers. 

“Someone like you will never understand what she means to me!” Wang Yike shouts eventually. “As long as I can protect her, my life has worth!” And, even as Wang Yike has no way of knowing it, these are the words that ultimately save both her and her loved one. Because Shen Wei does in fact understand what Zhang Ruonan means to her. His own endless and ultimately self-destructive devotion is his main driving force.

Shen Wei pretends to be hurt, again, which earns him a half-hug from the object of his devotion. If Zhao Yunlan does notice that Shen Wei should really come out of this attack grey haired and dead, and not just mildly inconvenienced, he chooses not to say anything. 

Worried about her murder girlfriend, Zhang Ruonan rushes in and accidentally touches her. Zhao Yunlan Freaks The Hell Out. Shen Wei does, too, but in his own, reserved, way. They are both emotionally invested in those two people, although for very different reasons: Shen Wei is acutely feeling resonance of his own past in their story, and Zhao Yunlan, I think, wants to fix it, he wants to be able to make it better. Instead, Shen Wei fixes it for him, turning the tide on this tragedy, and giving it a happy ending. He heals Zhang Ruonan right in front of the officers of SID, albeit with much subtlety. (“Have someone saved her right under our noses?” Zhu Hong will snort the very same evening, and she will be 100% correct.)

Shen Wei also lets Wang Yike go despite the undeniable fact that she did kill three people. Here, he is looking at the picture of this human/Undergroundian couple, surviving despite all odds, and touches his only reminder that Kunlun really was in his life. 

He then burns the picture as the only evidence that Wang Yike was not punished by him for her crimes. 

In the end, Guo Chengcheng is making first of his many diary notes about the events, recounting a conversation between Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan we had not witnessed, in which Shen Wei mentioned a relationship based on devotion that can last a thousand years, and Zhao Yunlan called such a relationship “guarding”. Finally, Guo Changcheng hopes that he can become a guardian of all. 

And this is making me think that this absolutely should be a set-up for him becoming a wick of the guardian lantern, as per every single other decision that was made prior to the last two episodes. Right? This is a perfect foreshadowing, and mentioning it here, so early in the show would not make any sense if it were a deliberate subversion. So, was Guo Changcheng meant to become the wick after all before... what, some rewrites happened? What made the final episode be what it was in the end?

(This is a genuine question by that way, if anyone has any insight on the matter.)

The episode would end here, if this was a western show, with a familiar monster of the week structure, but it does not. At least, the way it ends is reminiscent of a cliffhanger, with Zhao Yunlan catching Shen Wei in a middle of a crime scene, and looking betrayed. 

Next episode: Lynchian Nightmare, aka people without faces. 

PS.

I did not have a seamless way to stick this in anywhere but... Shen Wei’s technological ineptness at the max: he does not know how to use a Polaroid camera. Help him, he is so lost.

——

Second point of housekeeping to say a few things: 

I don’t think I will be consistent with certain things being transliterated versus translated. I am more likely to use Hei Pao Shi rather than Black Cloak Envoy (because the later reminds me of Tuxedo Mask, which makes me inwardly giggle every time) but at the same time I am also more likely to use Underground/Undergroundian rather than Dixing/Dixingren. I am more likely to use Xiao rather than Little, but have called Chu Old rather than Lao before. I hope that’s not grating, but do tell me if it is

My recaps are Shen Wei-heavy. I have no real explanation for this, apart from.. I like Shen Wei. 

I realise that there will definitely be things here that are head canon and speculation rather than flat observations; this show is a work of fiction and a work of art, which cannot be interpreted objectively. If you have alternate takes on anything I write in the future, let me know! 

[kyber-crystal]

fluff alphabet || poe dameron

a/n: for @jangohshit​!! sorry this was so late—i thought it was queued already but oh welp ,.,.,., thank u for being literally one of the best mutuals anyone could ever ask for <3 also leia is peak mom material in this friendly warning :) angst to fluff thrown in, as well

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

we all know he’s the most affectionate person ever despite his seemingly intimidating persona—he loves giving you forehead kisses, back hugs, and picking you up and spinning you around when he gets the chance. 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

the friendship started because leia had introduced you to him. you ended up clicking right away and spent nearly every waking moment you had together to the point that the entire black squadron would joke about how you and poe shared one functional braincell (i mean, they weren’t entirely wrong). he’s very overprotective—one time you tripped and fell off a ladder while helping rey fix something and he was freaking out about it more than you were. and you were completely fine, asides from a few scratches. again, the squadron loves teasing him about his ‘mama bear’ persona that he develops when he’s around you

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

YES. poe absolutely loves cuddling. he’ll take any chance he gets to hug you—whether that’s hugging you from behind during meetings, running into your arms when reuniting after a mission, or wrapping his arms around you as you relaxed with him and the others by the campfire several nights. you rarely ever slept alone, it was always you sleeping together in yours or his room, and jessika or finn would have to run in and wake you up several times in a row because you got too comfortable and nearly overslept. in short, you and him are attached at the hip

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

it was a mutual agreement between you two that you’d settle down and get married once the war was finally over. you hadn’t had many opportunities to actually sit and talk about it so the conversation was often brought up late at night when nobody else was awake.

poe isn’t the greatest ever at being tidy, but he isn’t bad at cleaning up stuff when he needs to—and any messiness is made up for with his beyond amazing cooking skills. he’s constantly pressured week after week to cook for everyone because the first time he’d made something it was love at first taste. now he’s dubbed the ultimate pilot and sous chef of the resistance

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

if you had to break it off with each other, it would be because of the war. getting into a relationship while trying to fight for your lives could put you into a compromising position and poe hated knowing that he could lose you at any point. this ultimately led to a huge argument—coincidentally, right before you left for an eight week-long mission. there were many tears involved.

you wouldn’t get together right after you claimed victory, but instead, took time building your relationship back up again before finally doing so. there were no real hard feelings involved—it was just a matter of reconstruction :3

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

once poe is committed to something, he’s committed—he’s in it for the long run. of course, he wants to make sure you’re comfortable first before anything else—and in terms of marriage, he’ll probably wait about a year or two. nothing too fancy. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

even though poe knows that you’re one hell of a fighter and can take practically anything that’s thrown at you, he’s very very gentle with you—same goes emotionally. he knows you’ve also been through a lot and makes sure to constantly remind you that you’re not alone and that if you ever needed someone to turn to, he’d always be here. 

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

alright, this man NEVER misses an opportunity to hug you. hugs from behind, picking you up and spinning you around until both of you got dizzy, surprising you and then hugging you, holding you in his arms to help you fall asleep after a nightmare, you name it. you joke around about how you don’t need therapy when you have his arms within reach :)

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

he says it first. you recalled it being after you returned from a quick little recon with a few other pilots and ran straight into his arms (as always, because mans loves getting hugs from you yk). 

“I love you.”

“I know,” you responded.

“I taught her that!” -han, shouting as he approached. “You really didn’t think to say hi to me first?”

“Dad.”

poe only laughs and kisses you again.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

ooooof so when poe’s jealous, he doesn’t like to show it but you can tell when he is. it’ll be little death stares from across the room or tightening his arm around your waist, even if it’s another squadron member jokingly flirting with you

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

poe’s kisses are either very gentle or very passionate—it depends. he likes kissing you on the lips but he loves forehead kisses the most. it gives him a sense of protection over you and he loves knowing you’re his special person :3

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

the kids absolutely LOVE him. you always get this warm & fuzzy feeling inside whenever you see him interacting with the younger ones on base; sometimes he’ll catch you staring and just winks at you in response (this little shit KNOWS how he makes you feel and loves it)

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

it’s pretty relaxed most of the time (that is, if it’s the weekend or you’re on break) and poe likes to stay in and cuddle for a little bit before you actually get out of bed. if not, both of you are up at the crack of dawn LOL. you often start off the day with a relaxing morning walk around the base before settling down to eat :)

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

on nights that neither of you can fall asleep, you’ll go outside and stargaze. it’s a very soothing habit you’ve learned to develop and 9/10 times it has one of you (it’s usually you) nearly knocked out cold after just an hour or two. (poe also sees this as an excuse to carry you back inside in his arms)

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

poe’s naturally a very open person but there are some things he prefers to keep to himself. but once he fully trusts you he tells you everything—though this takes maybe a couple months or so. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

both of you are aware he’s the more impatient of the pair, although when it comes to you he doesn’t mind waiting. when putting that aside, his patience runs a little bit more thin.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

alright mans knows you like the back of his hand. literally. like. the back. of your hand. everyone on base knows it, too—he remembers the smallest of things about you that even you don’t remember sometimes. this was the biggest giveaway for him that told everyone he was most certainly in love with you. you can guess who hosted your surprise birthday that one night after exegol : ‘)

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

your first kiss—not just because it was a first, but because of how it happened. it started pouring heavily as soon as you returned from a mission and everyone ended staying outside and having a giant water fight. while high on adrenaline, you jumped straight into his arms and before either of you had the chance to think, his lips were on yours and you were kissing underneath the stormy sky. everyone stopped what they were doing halfway and noticed, lowkey it looked like some scene from the notebook (arguably more romantic)

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

even though the two of you claim to share one braincell, poe is very very protective over you no matter how much you protest and claim you were capable of taking care of yourself. usually he’s the one who’s more freaked out about any injuries you get. other than you understood that you had to look out for each other and stick by each other no matter the cost—a promise you two intended to keep for as long as you possibly could.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

a lot. he’s very, very extra. very. han pokes fun at him sometimes for it but he too, was initially like that with leia so he can’t really argue—so instead, whenever poe’s in need of help with planning stuff he’s off to the rescue : ‘) fam rlly went from “no, you are NOT dating my daughter” to “why haven’t you guys gotten married yet?” one time for your birthday, with the help of your parents and the entire black squadron, he put on an entire air show for you complete with firework displays, and needless to say you were head over heels that night. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

he doesn’t sleep. poe has a very fucked up sleep schedule and often counts on you to remind him to get some rest—you found him working on his x wing one night and he told you he hadn’t slept in the past thirty-six hours—after which you scolded him and dragged him to bed. he ended up dozing off until noon 0_0

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

he’s not very concerned. though when he notices you staring or whenever you compliment him about his looks it does boost his ego :)

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

oh definitely. so much to the point that it has also become a joke among fellow rebels, even your parents (leia often tells you that she’s worried he won’t function properly unless you’re around and tbh she isn’t wrong lol). you’re his soulmate and other half whom he wouldn’t trade for the world

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

poe has the best taste in music. straight up. nobody argues nor complains when he’s in charge of music for the day, they’re always satisfied with whatever tunes he’s playing throughout the base and it puts everyone into a good mood

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

lack of respect. being inconsiderate. coldhearted. you’re thankfully none of these and for that very reason he’d chosen you—you’re everything he could ever ask for in a person

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

poe doesn’t snore, but he has a SOLID iron grip when fast asleep. “best friends always sleep in each other’s beds!” he’d claim as he crawled in next to you many nights and fell asleep hugging you very tightly. everyone knew it was again, an excuse to get closer to you. but you didn’t mind : ‘)

[mylovelies-docx]

Kid Krow - Comfort Crowd

Part 6!

A/N: We finally find out what promise Y/N made and couldn’t keep.

Chapter warnings: angst (as always), and like one paragraph of very vague smut.

As always, listen to the song here!

And read the story on AO3 here!

Taglist: @maraudersandco @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi @hkmultifandom @spider-starry @ashleykaiba @mayangel19

Word count: 3.2k (a long boy!)

When you stormed out of the cockpit, Mille, Zalos, and Arle refused to look at you. You couldn’t blame them; you looked like hell. Zorii sat sharpening a blade and ticked her head towards the cockpit, asking silently if you wanted her to deal with Poe. You sniffed hard, scrubbed at your eyes, shook your head, and practically ran to your quarters.

You pleaded with the universe to just make Poe sit still and not follow you. You could not handle another moment with him, or else you would explode. Or more specifically, your heart would explode and you would die a slow, agonized death. All because of Poe kriffing Dameron and his stupid, stupid , friendship.

You made your way through the corridors, leaning heavily against the walls in order to not fall over in your pursuit of a private downward spiral.

Eventually you made it to your door and entered your code. The door slid open and you rushed inside, closing it behind you as fast as you could so you could be alone. But going where so many memories of Poe lived had been a mistake. Being alone with your thoughts and emotions was just too much.

It was all too much.

With a shattered scream, you broke down. Every last piece of your heart was wrecked and crushed and ripped apart until it was unrecognizable. And still, this burning, unending pain would not. Go. Away!

Outside, you heard a raised voice. Poe. Saying something about needing to talk, to explain, to apologize. But then muffled, indistinct words of warning from Zorii. You knew that Zorii would not let Poe anywhere near you after what had just happened and how upset she knew you were.

Zorii walked inside, her lithe frame seemed to be held together by rage alone. She hadn’t even bothered to knock or ask if you wanted someone around. But regardless, she was now your best friend, and you just needed company now.

“I will refrain from speaking too much on it, but I do need to emphasize how much I despise that man for everything he’s done to you,” she explained, and settled on your cot.

You wheezed out a humourless laugh. You were numb, through and through, after the havoc that had occurred over your last two encounters with Poe.

Zorii was still angry, but she opened her arms to you for comfort anyway. The look on her face and in her manners spoke of softness in spite of her fury, and it broke whatever respite your breakdown had afforded you. A cry exploded from between your lips, slamming into the walls of your quarters and deafening you. It was the sound of anguish and pain and betrayal that was ripped straight from your heart.

You hadn’t felt so miserable and pitiful in all your life: those stupid kids from back home could never have made you feel as bad as Poe has.

Zorii opened her arms wider and you ran to her. You clutched at her waist, burying your face in her stomach and just sobbed . Sobbed for the best and only friend that you had had for years before Zorii came along. Sobbed for the stupid, love-sick fool that couldn’t take a fucking hint and get over her best friend that never saw anything in her anyway.

Sobbed for yourself. Your pitiful, sad excuse of a self.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine,” you muttered over and over again in hopes of getting your pain under control. “I don’t really need him. I don’t. I don’t…”

She sighed, rubbing soothing circles into your back. “ You’ve said that lie already . We both know what a load of bantha crap it is.”

You repeat yourself over and over again, trying to drive it through your own skull instead of hers.

“Look,” Zorii sighed once again, “I know you loved him. As more than a best friend.” You cringed against her, ashamed that Zorii had to find out how you felt about the man she had been sleeping with. “And trust me, I understand the appeal all too well. I wouldn’t have started anything up with him if I had known how you felt. And to give credits where credits are due, you hid it really well; I had no idea until last week.”

You still couldn’t believe that Poe had said that to you in front of Zorii, remembering how terrible you had felt about it and how profusely you had apologized to Zorii once she had come to check on you that night.

“I overheard your holo-vid with Kes the other night as well,” Zorii admitted, wincing at her own invasion of your privacy. You were too overwhelmed to tell her you really didn’t mind.

“He mentioned some force tree or something? I don’t really know what you had said before that, but he mentioned that and you went quiet. I’ll admit that I was intrigued and maybe wandered closer to your door than I intended to.”

Her voice went soft after that.

“But then I heard you mention that he knew: what who knew, at that point, I wasn’t sure. But you went on to explain how you had felt so pretty dressed up in Shara Bey’s dress and how you had prepared a whole speech. At that point, I figured you were talking about Poe.”

You closed your eyes against her and tried hard to push the memory away.

***

It was a lovely day on Yavin IV, and the big, gnarly-rooted force tree near the Dameron’s household was a brilliant green in the midday glow. The wind was whispering through the jungle, and all the creatures that made it their home seemed to be singing along to some unspoken melody. Just for you.

And for Poe, whenever he decided to show up.

You were all nerves. Sweat under your arms, a racing heart, and clammy hands: always the best look for confessing your love to someone.

You and Poe had returned home to Yavin last month after being away for a few years. Your group had had a close call on the last run, and you begged Poe to come with you to see Kes and your gran.

Your gran couldn’t care less that you hadn’t been home, but Kes was ecstatic that you guys had come back to see him.

Poe had gone to the market to pick up some snacks for the picnic Kes told him you had planned. Poe just didn’t know that it was supposed to be a date for the two of you, and Kes wasn’t going to spoil the surprise.

You were busy getting ready when Kes presented you with the most beautiful dress you had ever seen from Shara Bey’s closet. He was adamant that you wore that particular dress, since it was the one he loved most on her. Your emotions were already bubbling over from anxiety, but the look on Kes’s face when he looked at the dress broke your heart. You could see that he was reliving a memory of him and Shara Bey, and you just couldn’t break the spell that it had over him, so you sat quietly.

He eventually resurfaced and left you alone to finish your routine, all the while insisting that you’d be his official daughter sooner or later. Your smile was so big that it hurt your cheeks.

You arrived at the tree and started to set up the blanket and pillows that you had brought from the Dameron household. The blanket was spread out in the flattest nook between roots, and the pillows were propped up against the trunk. You took your place among the pillows and waited.

And waited.

Admittedly, Poe was prone to getting carried away with conversations between himself and the vendors, but that particular outing seemed to last forever in your mind. You knew why later, but at that point in time, you were convinced that Poe felt something for you and would return for you soon.

You knew that he felt something for you; on all your spice runs, he begged you to stay inside the ship and be safe, he brought you back pretty trinkets that he said reminded him of you, and he was always flirting.

Always.

The nickname he gave you? Princess? Absolutely flirtatious. The hugs before and after he left the ship? Obviously an excuse to be close to you. The little winks he’d send over the fire at you and all the inside jokes you two had? Come on! It was all right there. And Kes agreed! So, you two devised this little set up so that you could finally confess to Poe.

Even with only the progression of Yavin Prime to get a rough estimate of time’s passage, it still took Poe entirely too long to find you. When he finally showed up, you had fallen into a light sleep.

“Where’s dad?” Poe asked, setting down a basket with absolutely nothing in it. He plopped down right beside it, startling you awake.

“Where are our picnic supplies?” You countered, rubbing your eyes and feeling nauseous and disoriented after your impromptu nap.

He lifted his hands in the air as if to say “what can you do” and grunted. “Everyone had packed up by the time I got there. Why isn’t dad out here with us? Did he go back to the house to grab something?” His nonchalance and lack of apology really ate away at your resolve to profess your love to him. You wanted to know what took him so long before you said anything about your feelings.

“No, no he never came out here,” you explained. “Why did it take you so long to get to the market? You left hours ago -- the sun’s going down.” You were wringing your hands in your lap, nervous about what his answer could be.

“I was just catching up with someone; nothing to worry your beautiful head about.” When he said that, he had smoothed over the top of your head like a cherished and beloved friend. “It’s a good thing for us, I promise,” he winked. You were eating it all up like you were starved for affection.

How tragic.

You quickly grasped his hand before you lost all nerve. You kept it between your palms, drawing patterns on the back of it that kept your eyes down and away from his questioning gaze and adorable, slightly confused smile.

The future opened up bright and wonderful before you: your mutual affections coming out in the open and that long-awaited first kiss. Stars , you had been fantasizing about Poe’s lips for more than half of your life at that point. And his hands. His hands! Maker, if they would just glide over your skin and caress you like you had pictured for years, you would die a happy woman. And you’d thread your hands through those beautiful curls at the nape of his neck and tug just a little bit, until he groaned like you had always heard in your dreams. You would move together, right on that blanket under the force tree you and Poe had always loved. You would come apart in the most delicious way, panting and crying, with his mother’s ring dangling from the chain around his neck and nestling itself into the hollow of your throat. And then he would grind into you one final time and just pour his affections into your neck and mouth for safe keeping.

How goddamn tragic it all turned out to be .

“I need to tell you something,” you whispered, looking up through your eyelashes at him. He grinned, seeming just as excited and nervous as you were.

“Me too. I’ve been dying to tell you something for days now!” He wiggled where he sat next to you, scooting as close as he could and touching your foreheads together, like you were about to share secrets that were only meant for the two of you.

“You first,” you said, breathless. You couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

“No, no. You had something to say first, so you go ahead.” Poe had still been grinning at you, the happiest you had seen him in a while.

“How about we say it together?” You countered, giving his hand a little squeeze in anticipation.

“Okay, on the count of three,” he began.

“One…” you said together.

“Two…” you continued.

“Three!” You shut your eyes.

“I love you,” -- “Zorii and I are together,”

Silence. Your eyes were still shut, but now you were holding them so tightly that shapes were floating behind your eyelids. Poe pulled his hand from yours.

“What?” He asked, sounding confused and slightly wounded. Like he couldn’t believe that you had the nerve to say that out loud and ruin everything .

“Don’t,” you began, turning your head down and willing your heart to stop its frantic pace in your chest. “I – I didn’t know… I thought…” you trailed off, unsure what to say to fix the mess that you had created.

“(Y/N), do—do you love me? As more than a friend?” He grabbed your chin and forced you to meet his baffled gaze. You couldn’t think straight at that point, so you said the first thing that had popped in your mind.

“Yes, of course I do.”

Stupid girl.

“Oh, princess.” He released your chin and sat back, resting against the pillows like he was exhausted and didn’t have the energy to deal with the situation any longer. “I’m sorry if I ever did anything to lead you on; I just thought we were friends. I mean, we both see other people, and I’ve never felt that way about you so I didn’t think you did either.”

He could not have said anything worse to you in that moment, could not have said anything that sucked all the warmth from your body any faster than that had.

Okay, (Y/N), just breathe. Think of a way out of this, you begged your frazzled mind. Anything would be better than the silence stretching between you at that point.

“I guess… I got some things confused. I’m sorry.” And now you were that little girl again, apologizing for things out of your control and no fault of your own.

You felt small again, insignificant and alone. A floating pile of junk in the vacuum of space, with no planet in sight and no answers to your distress calls.

Poe could see you spiraling, he had known you long enough to recognize the signs.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, princess, we’ll figure this out,” he murmured, coming closer to you once again. He arranged the pillows so that he could lay back with you on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and muttered soothing words, trying to calm you down and bring you back to him. Like he had done so many times before.

“No, there’s nothin’ to figure out; this is on me. Just give me some time and I’ll get over it.” You hadn’t gotten over it in all the years you had loved him-- truly loved him-- but you had vowed to figure it out, and quickly, so that you could stop feeling like that. “I promise I’ll get over it,” you said into the fist that was curled next to your face on his chest.

You closed your eyes and tried not to focus too hard on how good he felt underneath you like that. How intimate it was, how much it reminded you of the outcome of every daydream you had had.

How you knew that it was probably how he and Zorii spent their nights together now...

***

“Kes didn’t know how that day turned out because Poe and I fell asleep outside. I was too embarrassed to face him that next mornin’, so I sent Poe back to tell him we got an urgent message and had to leave. I don’t know exactly what they said to each other, but Poe looked sad when he came back and I didn’t wanna know.” The confession slipped through your lips, chapped from all the salty tears that you had cried into Zorii’s tunic.

“Oh, (Y/N). I’m so, so sorry. He was on a call with me that evening. I had no idea you were waiting on him; he just mentioned you all were going on a picnic and that his dad could keep you company for a while.” Her hands clenched against your back, as if trying to protect from a hurt that had already passed and done its damage.

“That boy wouldn’t know a Gungan from an Ewok if they were both standing in front of him. The only reason we ever got together was because I made the first move.” Her hands now continued their previous path of soothing circles, hoping to make up for the pain that she unintentionally caused not so long ago.

It amazed you how drastically things could change in such a short amount of time.

“It’s alright, Zorii, I’m not mad at you. I’m just angry at myself. Always at myself. For bein’ too slow, too emotional, too much and never enough at the same time.” You were defeated and exhausted, no longer able to keep even an ember of your earlier fire alive.

“I will not tolerate you speaking about my best friend that way; she is a wonderful person, and the best damn pilot we’ve ever had. She doesn’t deserve to be treated this way,” Zorii chided, having pushed you away from her and giving you a stern look.

You returned something resembling a smile.

You looked back to her lap where you had just spent an indeterminate amount of time; the white fabric covering her stomach was completely transparent.

“Oh Rii, I’m sorry about your clothes,” you mumbled, trying to dry it with the sleeves of your outfit. It did no good.

“I don’t really mind; I like my shirts soggy,” she said, deadpan.

This time, a real laugh bubbled up from your throat. You were immensely grateful you had a friend like her.

______

For months after Poe’s departure, you kept a smile on your shoulders until you were sweaty; begging on your knees for somebody to come and help you when it was too much to carry. Zorii did her best, but no one could replace the comfort and happiness you had once found in Poe. You eventually stopped asking for help and pretended to have moved on.

But time passes, and past hurts are less painful. Especially when you don’t think about them.

You had seen the missed messages from Poe in those early days. Every time your comm buzzed, the despair you felt over your situation returned tenfold, and the only option was to throw the device in a forgotten corner and let it die -- just like your feelings.

[willadisastercry]

Space godzilla meets Keith and Pidge bonding moment

tw: depiction of paralyzation of the body and of throat/mouth

Of the list of terrifyingly dangerous alien monsters they’d come across, this one is near the top. After crash landing on an unfamiliar planet, the pair find themselves getting well acquainted with the local wildlife on their unexpected sojourn. They also get better acquainted with each other as they struggle against this beast and with the injuries from the battle that just keep getting more terrifying.

(((Keith and Pidge sharing emotional intimacy while one of them is hurt or both are is an ELITE trope and you cannot tell me otherwise)))

“GAH!”

“Are you sure you don’t need assistance?! I can probably get a hold of it’s tale with my bayard...”

“I’m good, just... this thing is relentless. It doesn’t have a single weakness except I don’t think it can hear well, that’s the only reason it hasn’t tried to eat you again.”

“Good to know? But let me help, Keith, you’re hurt too.”

“I’m still standing, am I not?”

“Your back is like shredded bud, it’s called adrenaline, ever heard of it?”

He opened his mouth as if to respond but didn’t get the chance to before he was launching himself over the swooping arc of the stinging tale that threatened to take his legs out from under him. His body stretched as he jumped and contracted almost as quickly to send himself tumbling forward, a stiff gasp escaping his lips when the stingers already at home in his back shifted and reduced him to a crouch while he rode the waves of agony that followed.

“That’s it...”

Pidge activated her bayard and sent it forward just as the tale of the oversized killer iguana was going back for seconds while Keith was still down, its struggle only aided the momentum of the grappling hook as it wrapped around the deadly appendage.

That bit was pretty seamless. What wasn’t seamless was when the creature started fighting her hold, a counter measure she hadn’t really planned for and wasn’t at all equipped to combat given she was very much reduced to sitting on her butt.

“Uh, Keith?” Pidge asked in a shriller voice than she intended as she dug one heel into the rocky soil beneath her.

“I know you’re like not doing great at the moment, but right about now would be a good time to, I don’t know, do the thing... that you do, ya know?”

The creature reared around as best it could with its tale entrapped and began yanking. Digging both heels into the ground was now all Pidge could do to keep from going flying. She couldn’t even hold back her screech when her torn muscles and slashed tendons protested that, the gash in her thigh squishing and swelling with another spurt of blood, whatever clotting that had been achieved entirely lost.

She almost cried out with relief she when heard Keith grunting and saw as he pulled himself up to his feet despite the burning twinge across the entire expanse of his back as well as his arms and shoulders, because Pidge was right, he did need to do the thing he does and end this.

“That’s a start, now I’m pretty sure what happens next is it gets more mad and seeing as i’m attached to my bayard still—“

But he didn’t need her to explain her predicament, he saw the danger immediately and lunged at the beast while it was still focused on attempting to wriggle free.

He knew aiming at its exposed underbelly was useless, the skin was too tough, but he also knew he couldn’t get close enough to go for a limb without risking getting sliced to ribbons by its claws. They had both found that one out the hard way.

So, with the beast temporarily distracted by Pidge he resolved to make a break for the underbelly anyway, the thing was huge but it’s limbs were short and set so far apart that if he could just slide under it and—

The next few moments happened in a blur. He did the thing without so much as a second thought, like he quite literally acted in whatever fashion his brain first thought of, too sluggish and dazed to afford waiting for something other than his instincts to come through.

The creature let out a horrible screech and bucked against Pidge’s grasp on its tale, she let out a strangled yelp as she was pulled forward and off the ground for a moment before landing back down hard. She heard Keith gagging as bright yellow acid oozed nearly onto his face from where his sword had pierced the only place he could think would be soft enough to bypass, clutching his nose at the acrid sizzling as it spluttered onto the dirt next to him.

“Pidge! On three retract your bayard, okay? One, two—“

“What? No, I can’t. It’ll—“

“Three!”

Keith picked his feet up as he hung on the sword stuck in what he assumed was the creatures gullet. It came away with even more acid blood as he dropped to his knees and tried to get out from under the stream, the top of his forearms being spared only by his armor as it disintegrated in a sickening hiss before his eyes. He managed to be vaguely concerned about wether it would stop at his armor before all of his worry went to avoiding being crushed to death as the beast took off.

Keith opened his eyes only when the thumping of the creatures claws began to notably shrink in the distance. He was curled up protectively on his side and too exhausted to move just yet.

“Huh, if only we had listened to Pidge earlier...” she mused teasingly as she pulled herself into a more comfortable sitting position.

“Shut up, are you alright? How’s the leg?”

“The leg is relatively the same, slightly more numb, started bleeding again, but still attached so that’s all that matters.”

She glanced back at the concerningly large puddle she’d left behind and the newly forming one underneath her. The blood loss wasn’t yet dangerous but she knew that could change rapidly if they didn’t get to Green soon. And for that she would need a functional Keith because she was fairly certain she couldn’t walk.

“Don’t think you can just deflect onto me, how’s your back you idiot?”

He thought deeply for a second, forcing himself to push past the impending haze as the steady stream of adrenaline coursing through his body began to taper off.

“Feels weird... the tingling and burning is starting to travel. Probably safe to say that the stingers have some sort of poison or irritant I guess... and it’s—oh my god it’s blood is—wait, crap!”

He wasn’t really mindful that he was rambling but grateful that it reminded him of the acid eating away at his armor and scrambled to detach what was left of it, scrubbing away what had just started making its way through his undersuit.

“It’s blood is WHAT?! Did it get on you?!”

“Yeah. Well no, I’m good,” he sighed and rolled around to sit up as painlessly as he could manage to.

“It ate my armor and I think my the hair on my forearm is gone, but my skin is in tact, well most of it. Sit tight though, I’m coming over there.”

“Kay, not going anywhere...”

Keith made his way slowly. His legs were leaden with excertion and whatever lovely substances the overgrown demon lizard stung and scratched him with seemed to only make it worse.

“Well you look awful.”

“Thanks, you too,” he said as he sat down heavily, his muscles screaming at the effort walking even a couple feet took and his head swimming for a moment.

“Rude, but turn around and let me see,” Pidge’s order was final but Keith’s body was slow, not really listening to what he wanted that well.

“Keith, I will slap you, stop trying to be a tough guy.”

He only managed to swivel sideways and lean the rest of the way to expose enough of his battered back to quell her chastisements.

“Hmm, the space-godzilla got you good,” she muttered as she pulled him closer to examine the bleeding gashes from the creatue’s claws and swollen welts from the barbs of its hellish tail.

Various bits of their armor had been knocked off by its claws and tail during the attack. For Keith, his chest plate had cracked after several blows and fallen off, which is why he was so bad off now.

There were three slashes starting from his left shoulder blade that made their way down to the middle of his back, all wide and jagged with blood leaking steadily from them, the skin around the wounds just as irritated as the welts from the stingers that trailed along in several lines up and down his back.

The skin around the gash on Pidge’s thigh fared the same though her symptoms had progressed more, the majority of her thigh swollen and blotchy with a tingling sensation that spread from her toes to her hips.

“Some of the stinger things are still lodged in your back... I think I should pull them out so ya know, no more of the toxin is released, that good with you?”

“Yeah whatever, just be qui—Oooh, okay—OH, ouch!”

Keith’s entire body tensed as she yanked the remaining stingers out, summoning another surge of blood from his scratch wounds.

“All done, sorry! I didn’t realize they were serated.”

“S’ okay,” he breathed through gritted teeth as blood began to trickle from the welts Pidge had just de-stingered.

“We’ve gotta get to our lions and contact the rest of the team before we start feeling the full affects of the toxin, do you think you can walk if I help you?” Keith asked as he was getting to his knees.

“My leg is pretty much entirely numb... I don’t know if it’s from the damage of the wound itself or what was coating the claw, but I can try.”

Keith got his feet under him and reached down to hook his arms under her armpits.

“Ready?”

Pidge nodded and he lifted her to her feet. She fought to stifle her groan when the skin around the wound was pulled and then tried to put her weight on it but it immediately buckled.

“Shit, okay. We can work something else out.”

“Sorry, I can probably hobble...”

“No hobbling when I have a spot just for you on my one remaining shoulder.”

“Huh? Wait, no!”

Pidge protested but Keith had no energy for it as he hoisted her up and over his good shoulder, her own mind not as hazy as his apparently because he now had a sense of humor. Keith never made jokes, but now he couldn’t stop. And it was freaking weird.

“Ugh, put me down!”

“Nope, sorry. Friendly reminder for passengers: please keep all hands and feet within the—“

“Oh my god, you’re delirious.”

“...maybe slightly, but you’re bleeding out so checkmate.”

Pidge wanted to slap him because that’s not how chess works, but grumbled instead and went to nudge him in the stomach with her knee but the movement jostled her thigh causing her keen at the way it burned, the torn everything that lay beneath pulling visciously.

She felt Keith’s hesitant hand hover over the back of her injured thigh before making his mind up and pressing it down against his stomach. She wailed because she couldn’t help it but was somehow able to rationalize his decision and be thankful.

Pressure, that was smart of him. Even in a state of literal delirium he had the presence of mind to do that because he was right, she was bleeding out. It hadn’t severed an artery but it likely nicked one with the way it had gushed initially.

“Th-thanks, hurts like a bitch, but thanks.”

“Anything for you, Pidge.”

She could almost laugh at how soft Keith was being, how open and lighthearted he was. The posion was admittedly closer to his heart and his brain which was probably why Pidge was more coherent though partially paralyzed.

Both injuries weren’t any better or worse than the other though. Pidge was very much in danger of losing too much blood and Keith was very much in danger of succumbing to adverse affects of the posion.

But she could hardly feel Green which meant they had a way to go still, it was less than ideal but of all people that would be able to get them there under such unfortunate circumstances, she was glad it was Keith with her. He was just as impossibly stubborn as she was and Pidge had no doubt that he’d do whatever he could to make it there in time.

“You know where you’re going right?”

“Yeah,” he huffed, already winded “crashed on the other side of this ridge... ha, course it’s up a hill, of course...”

“Stop as much as you need to if you need a break—“

“Nah, if I stop I don’t know if I’ll be able to start again.”

Pidge worried at her bottom lip, the skin already raw.

“Just let me know how you’re doing every now and then... since you’re so dead set on being my personal transport.”

He grunted at that and Pidge accepted it was as much of an answer as she was going to get. He walked for a while, the bounce of his gait and unrelenting pressure on her leg sufficiently shorting her dulled nerves for their tolerance for pain.

She could still feel the wound and how mangled the inside workings of her leg were, not even the numbing of the poison could take it away, but the tingling had traveled to her hip now and slowly made its way up her side. The feeling of Keith’s hand on the back of her thigh diminishing by the minute.

Pidge could only imagine how Keith was fairing with the numbness of the poison, she wondered if he could even feel her weight on his shoulder with how many pricks he’d received from the monster.

“Almost halfway up... this goddamned hill... can-can you feel Green yet?”

“Yeah, stronger than before at least. We’re getting closer. How do you feel?”

“Feel fine... i’m good,” he answered quickly, but his words were sloshing together somewhat, his pronunciation becoming lazier.

“Well, I can’t feel anything on my right side anymore except for my arm, so that’s lovely.”

“Hm, yeah... my back’s numb... scratches don’t hurt much anymore.”

“That’s probably for the best right now.”

“Yeah...”

The next few minutes passed slowly. Keith’s breathing getting heavier with the continued effort but no matter how much Pidge urged him he refused to even slow down for a minute let alone stop altogether to catch his breath.

So freaking stubborn, but she couldn’t blame him. She was the same way.

As they made their journey she found it more and more difficult to tear her mind away from worrying about the poison, what it could do to their bodies, if it was even curable. It could be lethal to humans and their efforts could very well be for nothing and they’d have no idea.

“Hey... you okay?” Keith asked, his voice gentle.

“Huh?”

“You’re breathing funny... wait, are you—don’t cry... we’re-we’re going to be fine, Pidge. Stop thinking about it...”

“I’m just scared,” her voice was meek, her chest shuddering as more tears slid silently down her face.

“I know... me too... but we’ll be okay... won’t let anything happen to you...”

“Okay...” she breathed shakily, her mind still working over her worries but also over the fact that she was so emotional, paranoid even, finally resolving it was probably another side affect of the poison.

She hoped that Keith didn’t get anxious like her, he’d gotten a stronger dose of the toxin and so she feared what paranoia would look like on him since he was already pretty delirious.

“Hey, Keith?”

He hummed, talking wasted too much energy and he didn’t much left to waste.

“I can feel Green a lot now, can almost hear what she’s trying to say. She’s stronger than when we left her, scared for me I think.”

“S’good... s’really good.”

They were nearing the top of the hill. Pidge could feel the elevation changing as the steep incline lessened and Keith straightened up with her, his breathing leveling and the muscles under her relaxing slightly, no longer straining to balance her while leaned forward.

“See her... see Green,” he spat with some effort. Words came a lot harder now, his mouth as dry as if it was full of cotton.

“She’s really worried... I can feel how scared she is...”

“Tell her... s’okay...”

“I will—hey slow down, we’re here, don’t waste more energy.”

“Can’ sl-slow...” he slurred like his tongue had stopped working. The dryness in his mouth extended down his throat and when he inhaled too sharply trying to articulate himself and choked, ragged coughs shaking his tiring frame.

“Oh, okay, don’t talk then. Just keep walking, you can rest soon.”

He only grunted this time, his breaths becoming as strained as they were when they were coming up the hill. He surged forward dazedly, his vision blurring slightly but he ignored it. They were so close, just a couple more yards and they’d be safe. Just a little further and—

“-eith, Keith! Do you hear that? Godzilla’s back and he brought friends!”

Keith hadn’t realized he’d zoned out in his intense concentration to get to Green before he succumbed to the numbness that seemed to cover every square inch of his body, weighing on his chest like a heavy cloud.

He heard it now though, the rumble of taloned appendages and the whipping of barbed tails.

Shit.

“How far are we from Green? Because our buddy from before and his friends are about a mile out, but they seem to be moving a tad faster than we are...?”

He didn’t answer, his legs moving faster than he knew he could manage with how nonexistent they felt, carrying them forward with reckless abandon as black dots danced across the quickly shrinking space between him and Green’s open jaws.

He couldn’t feel his feet hitting the ground, he didn’t even know he was running, he just felt the burn in his chest and the twinge on the skin of his back as he moved.

Pidge was saying something but he couldn’t hear her, he couldn’t hear much of anything anymore aside from the splitting ringing in his ears and pulse of his own heart as it pounded in his chest.

The alien beasts descended on them quickly, he was later told, and Pidge screamed her throat raw the entire time urging him to get them inside Green before they became dinner.

He wasn’t sure when he’d made it over the threshold of the lion or when he’d dropped to his knees to let Pidge down softly before falling forward in a heap.

“Damnit Keith, Green go! C’mon girl, I can’t fly-I can’t even move and Keith needs help...”

Once the pain in her leg died down from him abruptly releasing the pressure that was keeping the wound stabilized, she turned to her struggling friend, pushing away the fear that spiked as her own numbness encroached further.

He’d collapsed onto his front bonelessly and was wheezing like he’d just run a marathon with a punctured lung. It didn’t sound good and he didn’t look much better. The wounds on his back were angry, the skin puffy with hives and bleeding still.

If she didn’t know better she’d have thought he was having an allergic reaction and going into anaphylactic shock, but her wound looked the same.

“Keith?”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t even look like he’d heard her.

Pidge grunted in frustration when she couldn’t get her legs to bring her much closer to him, relying on her arms to physically move them as she awkwardly scooted.

She vaguely wondered how long it would be until she couldn’t sit up on her own as she lowered herself down to eye level and moved the damp locks that had fallen in front of his face away so she could see his eyes. They were bloodshot and unfocused as they darted about rapidly, his pupils blown entirely.

“I need you to breathe steadier for me okay? We’re in Green and we’re on our way back to the castle... you just need to hold on a little longer...”

Keith could see Pidge’s mouth moving and her hand on his head, but her words were lost on him and so was her touch. It felt like she was shouting across a void, like he was underwater and everything was garbled. He didn’t know why he couldn’t hear her, why he couldn’t feel anything.

He just knew he couldn’t breathe and that his head was going to explode.

“Catch your breath and calm down, we’re gonna be okay...”

Taking in air was a chore, like he was trying to fill up a balloon that had already popped. He couldn’t really feel his body beneath him as he struggled, he thought he could feel his throat closing though with how tight it grew.

“We’re gonna be fine... just keep breathing, Keith... even if it hurts... we’ll be okay...”

Pidge was saying these things mostly for herself now, Keith hadn’t answered her once since they’d made it to Green and she couldn’t even be sure he was conscious now. The numbness had spread to her middle, the muscles in her back and hips failing, reducing her to laying on her back.

For a while it had felt like it had stopped there until she tried to check on Keith and found her neck was immobile now too.

“No, no, no—fuck!”

That was when she’d started crying again. She was paralyzed. Her muscles were entirely lax, completely unresponsive to anything she tried to tell them to do. But her ears were unaffected. She would be able to hear when Keith stopped breathing next to her.

The poison had likely attacked his pulmonary system with the proximity of the wounds to his lungs, the claws maybe even knicked one. For Pidge it attacked her nervous system from the extensive damage to about a dozen crucial nerves in her leg.

She tried to curse pitifully again but the muscles in her face were tingling, managing nothing more than a nose wrinkle before she lost all control. The tears fell freely now. All she hoped for was a crackle over the coms from her friends when they got close enough to the castle to receive one.

Keith continued to wheeze, soon falling into an almost dream state as he struggled against the increasing paralysis in his mouth and throat, the decreased oxygen to his brain likely playing a hand in it.

He saw his home in the dessert except his father was there. He saw flashes of red and orange like fire and sand. They swirled around him threateningly, like they were taunting them. His father looked like he was saying something to him, but the sand whirred deafeningly.

“What?!” he thought he heard himself calling out through the wall of flames that seperated them. The blaze was tantalizingly close and gaining ground each second.

“Dad, what are you saying?”

The fire raged stronger now, the heat and lack of oxygen in the air around them as the flames licked it up bringing his father to his knees.

“No, no—Dad!”

Keith started toward the flames that were now receding, drawing toward his father who was still trying to tell him something.

But it was too late.

The flames circled him, closing in and swallowing him up.

Keith felt like he was the one burning as he saw his father taken away from him once more before darkness enveloped him.

“Dad...” he whispered in defeat.

The static that sounded from the coms device brought another surge of tears down Pidge’s face once Keith had stopped calling out and finally relaxed, his breaths choppy and sporadic but less erratic.

He was calling for his father, it was the first intelligent word she’d gathered from him once he’d started up. He sounded like he was crying too.

“-dge...-th...in...-idge-Keith...come in...guys? Please report.”

It was Shiro. He sounded scared.

“Pidge? Keith? Please tell us you’re okay...”

Hunk. Gosh, hearing him so worried hurt.

“Green has the other lions flipping their shit,”Lance remarked, trying to infuse some levity into his voice.

“Red is like actually wailing—wait, Coran sees you guys on the radar...”

She wanted to sob so badly, but her body refused. They were so close to being safe, to not feeling so wrong. She wanted to tell Keith it was going to be okay, that his father was gone but that he would be proud of him. That it’d be okay because he had his friends. And that she needed a hug as soon as he could breathe and as soon as she could stand.

But she just let her eyes flutter closed while Green landed them with a shudder that she didn’t feel. Everyone was on them in a second, worried voices pulling her from the darkness as equally worried faces hovered over her, poking at her leg.

“Pidge?! Pidge can you hear me?” Shiro was waving his hand in front of her but her face was entirely numb, her eyelids heavy and uncooperative but still functioning for now.

“That’s a lot of blood and—oh my god is that bone, aw god...” Hunk deadpanned before excusing himself to go hurl.

“What the heck? Her eyes are open and responsive but she’s not talking,” Lance noted as his mind worked over the strange scene.

Keith was still out of it, mumbling incoherently and breathing hoarsely. Coran was examining his back and figuring out a way to transport him without angering the wounds.

“I think I have an idea of what happened...” he offered once he’d inspected the swollen dots from the barbs and relayed his hypothesis to the rest of the team.

“Oh my god, so she’s like... paralyzed?” Lance questioned in horror.

Hot tears spilled down her face once more at their realization, Hunk appearing next to them and Allura coming into view as well.

“Pidge?” she asked softly, “er, blink twice if you can hear me?”

Blinking was difficult but possible, snapping her eyes back quickly each time just in case.

“Oh, Pidge...” she gushed sadly, taking her face in the palm of her hand.

“That must’ve been hell—I-I’m so sorry,” Hunk choked as he fought back a sob.

“We should’ve gone with you guys, I should’ve gone with you guys...” Lance griped defeatedly.

“No, I never should’ve sent you... it was too dangerous—“

“Er, Shiro? Could I get some assistance with Keith? Holding him like this seems to aggravate his breathing...” Coran interrupted as he sat with Keith against his chest after trying to carry him over his shoulder like he’d done with Pidge.

“Of course.”

“Rest now, Pidge. You’ve done more than enough,” Allura soothed, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

That was all the command she needed as she let the heaviness close her eyes for good. She felt herself become weightless before the tingling subsided into a pleasant nothingness.

The next thing she knew she was tumbling forward into warm arms, a familiar voice sounding not nearly as wrecked as it once had. She blinked back the haze from cryosleep only to realize that she just couldn’t see.

“These might help.”

She blinked with clarity once someone had put her glasses on for her, making her feel less disoriented now that she could actually see.

Keith stared down at her warmly.

“Hey there.”

“UGH!” she grumbled as she scrambled up and threw her arms around him, squeezing like she wanted to shatter his bones.

It wasn’t long before she was fighting the hysteria in her voice.

“Don’t scare me like that ever again! It was horrible! You-you were getting worse and I couldn’t m-move, I th-thought I’d have to hear... hear you...”

“Hey,” he said as softly as he spoke to her on that stupid planet, rubbing her back in an effort to quell the stuttering of her chest.

“I didn’t. We’re okay, just like you said we’d be...”

“O-okay,” she managed through sobs now that she could actually cry.

They stayed like that for a while which was surprising when she thought about it but she didn’t care to consider it in depth, that he was letting her hug him so long, that he was comforting her.

“How long were we out?” she asked after some time. It was probably night judging by the dim lights and lack of swarming that occurred. Keith was stubborn so she could imagine him refusing to let her wake up without greeting her first or some noble shit like that.

“Well I was out for like a day, not much to fix I guess. The slashes weren’t deep, not heavy duty work or anything. The poison paralyzing my throat however... was a slight issue. The pod stopped it before I like stopped breathing or whatever, but Coran said he had a plan for if that happened.”

Keith readjusted so that he held most of her weight more comfortably as she calmed down.

“You on the other hand, were in for three days, almost four.”

Pidge sat back from her home against his chest and underneath his arms to look at him with an amusingly bewildered face, needing to know every detail now temporarily overriding her sadness.

“Three days?! Why?”

“Well you did almost bleed out... and then there were the several muscles sliced clean in half as well as a few snapped tendons from said severed muscles... oh and the full body paralysis from a toxin that had to be flushed out... so yeah, took a hot second. And you’re not allowed to say I scared you because you scared me pretty well too.”

“Oh... sorry for scaring you.”

He pulled her back into his arms and she closed her eyes against the steady rise and fall of his chest, a much welcomed change.

“Your... your dad would be proud of you, ya know?”

She felt Keith stiffen against her for a moment at the mention of her father.

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s just—you were calling out for him... and I couldn’t comfort you, tell you that it’d be okay or that... well he’s not here, but we are...”

Pidge took a shaky breath ans Keith tightened his arms around her, his body no longer tense as she struggled to articulate her words through the hitches in her breath.

“It just hurt hearing you call for him like that and not be able to do anything... made me want my dad... I-I miss him too...”

She thought she heard his breathing pick up, felt him moving his hands to his face as he continued to rub her back. She didn’t care, just hugged tighter.

“Thanks... for that,” he said finally.

“Thanks for not dying before you saved us.”

“Ha, checkmate I guess.”

She laughed because that’s just once again not how that works and nestled herself somehow further against the warmth of Keith’s chest because... they were okay.

[siriannatan]

Beeduo Oneshots #3 Unexpected reunion

Ao3 link to the whole series

Disclaimer: All physical displays of affection are meant in a purely platonic way, and I, the author, take no responsibility for how some people may see it. The characters in the stories aren't meant to represent the content creators, just characters they portray in their roleplay. 

 _____________________________________________________________

Doomsday shook the whole SMP. Dream going to prison didn't help much.

On his end, Ranboo was happy with where he was, as long as he wasn't being evicted that is, but he was good at keeping out of people's business so he was safe. He spends most of his time away anyway, lonely long mining trips and treasure hunts were slowly becoming his favourite activities. When he wasn't waking up in random spots. Aside from that, he was okay being alone. Ranboo wasn't lonely.

On the other end, Tubbo was also okay. Being away from people, alone in Snowchester, as he named the frozen patch of land he decided to live on, was good for him he told himself. He had all the freedom to practice magic and alchemy... All on his lonely own... Back in the day, Dream would visit to see his experiments and compliment him on his good work... He just missed old days, not Dream and his scheming. Tubbo wasn't lonely.

On some level, they both knew they were missing something. They were just unsure what...

Usually, Tubbo would stay in reading some old book in long gone language, making his skeleton's bring him food or fiddle with alchemical formulas or spells. Anyone would want a bit of a break from time to time, so on one a bit less cold day, just after a snowstorm he put on a heavy coat, heavy shoes and went out for a walk.

Ranboo wasn't a fan of his sleepwalking habits, especially when his sleepwalking would deposit him in the middle of snowy nowhere, snowy nowhere that wasn't anywhere near home. At least that was what he thought until he saw smoke in the distance. With that little ray of hope in a slowly dying down snowstorm, he forced his legs to move forwards. Even if he was a bit more okay with cold than most as a part enderman, extended stay outside in the cold still wasn't a good idea. How long was he walking? Was the world always spinning that much? Was the ground always this clo...

Out of all people he used to know Tubbo didn't expect to see Ranboo passed out in the snow barely outside of his land. Alone. Didn't he live with Technoblade and Philza now? Crouching down he poked the enderman hybrid. "You okay man?"

No answer.

With a heavy sigh and a glare to the side, he took control of a couple of skeletons hiding among nearby foliage, probably since the storm and commanded them to carry Ranboo for him. There was no way he could carry him, he was too tall and lanky. There was no urgency in Tubbo's return. Ranboo would be okay, he knew what he was capable of better than anyone, he was usually fixing him for Dream back in the day after all, despite Dream being better at healing magic. It was rather funny how their magic was so opposite. Dream with healing and Tubbo with necromancy. Dream always explained it with healing magic not working well on endermen, and it wasn't like Tubbo was using magic, just heavily advanced, mostly forgotten alchemy he picked up out of boredom.

At home Tubbo went right to work, sending all skeleton's away as soon as his guest was safely tucked away into only bed in the small house. With how tall Ranboo was it was rather hard and looked very funny with how much of his legs were out of the bed. He didn't need Ranboo freaking out right after waking up.

With them alone, he got to work mixing a very familiar formula he didn't do in a while, a specialised ointment for endermen water burns. Even though it sounded easy to make it was a while since he had to make something on that scale so he didn't mind. It was fun to stretch his abilities from time to time.

When Ranboo woke up he was warm and he could hear a familiar low humming. "Tubbo?" he muttered trying to sit up, It was indeed Tubbo who was humming, in simple overalls and a thick yellow sweater, fiddling with alchemical stands. "Your horns got big," he noticed before a jolt of pain forced him to hive upon sitting up.

"No moving for you big guy," Tubbo said turning around, left side first so his good eye could see his guest properly. "You were pretty messed up when I found you."

Ranboo just smiled weakly. He missed Tubbo, more than he realised. "Tommy said you died. He told us Dream got you."

"Maybe he did, maybe he didn't, either way, it was an out from all the conflict." Tubbo said walking closer and passed him a small bowl with some sparkling ointment, "put this on your water burns, should make it better faster than regen potions. You hungry?"

"Yes?" Ranboo wasn't sure what to answer after that.

Tubbo's cottage was nice, not big but Ranboo was used to small spaces living with Techno and Philza. He was sure they made interiors cramped for defensive purposes, it wasn't like they lacked space to build bigger. Soon Tubbo was back with two steaming bowls of some sort of soup.

"But why hide? I'm pretty sure no one would bother you all that much," he asked with a nod of a thank you...

"I didn't like the idea of hiding my horns forever, and who knows how people would react... Everyone saw that Dream has horns and instantly started drawing connections to Schlatt and... I don't need to be involved in that, prison doesn't sound fun."

Ranboo could agree with that. He saw the prison a couple of times and it wasn't a good look, he'd rather didn't need one. Techno and Phil didn't seem to care much. "Yeah... So, Dream also has horns... is that a..."

"Older, he's my older brother. I'm pretty sure he's the only reason I'm still alive because Schlatt shouldn't be trusted with a pair of old socks, not to say a child," Tubbo said looking at the sun setting over the cold bay.

That was a good reason to avoid people. Ranboo knew from previous talks with Tubbo that the glamour he used to hide his horns took a lot of energy to keep up if he didn't want anyone bumping into invisible horns. With both Dream and Schlatt's reputations, nothing would keep people from being weird about Tubbo's family tree. People tended to be weird to him about Techno and Phil and he was just living with them, and they weren't as hated as Dream.

"So you hid amongst snow like Technoblade?"

"It worked until Philza left his compass outside his ender chest. And I probably should add that I can do some necromancy."

"Necromancy? Like raise and control undead?"

"Yeah, that's how I brought you here. Even more reason for people to lock me with Dream," Tubbo shrugged. Ranboo just nodded turning his full attention to his bowl. He was going to die. There was no way Tubbo was letting him go with all that knowledge. He was either going to die or be locked here to keep Tubbo company, undead couldn't be good company.

Ranboo didn't die. He and Tubbo had a lovely evening catching up on what happened since Tubbo 'died', he seemed satisfied hearing he's got a monument dedicated to him and a proper funeral. "Wilbur never got a funeral, maybe Phil did something but I don't know."

"He's got a picture of him in his house but that's all I know. He doesn't like talking about Wil."

"I get it. We should probably figure out sleeping arrangements, I don't get many guests here. Only Foolish ever visits me, to bring some supplies and check if I'm still alive and not undead. He's my cousin actually, through Puffy adopting him."

"Wha? Isn't he like a millions of years old god?"

"Puffy's crazy like this. She sees a sad god in conflict with himself after aeons of destroying and adopt him as her son, unfortunately, Schlatt was good at avoiding his sister so Dream and I had to take care of ourselves. Now, where will we be putting you to sleep..."

Ranboo looked at his hands. Could Tubbo know about the possible connection between him and Dream? How closely was he working with Dream during his presidency? Was Tommy's exile really for the good of L'Manburg? How much of that argument in the blown-up community house was honest and how much was acting?

"I know what you're thinking. Did I exile Tommy because of family relations or because I thought it was a good choice for Manburg, and all the other times I had to confront Dream," Tubbo broke him out of his thoughts "I haven't spoken to Dream as my brother, I was angry at him for a lot of that time, ever since... Schlatts presidency was coddling me and trying to push me to stay away from it all. We had our first decent conversation the evening before the final battle, he proposed this whole fake death thing and at that point, I was okay with that 'we'll make them think we're dead and move far from the server, leave looking after every one to XD...', I was looking forward to it you know. Just me and my brother like in the old days, he didn't think the whole server would show up" Ranboo was sure Tubbbo was about to start crying. He had no idea what to do, he saw Tubbo cry a few times during his presidency but it wasn't this direct, he was usually trying to be a tough Mr President people could depend on. Vwoop Awkwardly Ranbbo dragged his friend closer into a hug. He had no idea why, it was an instinct of some sort. To hug Tubbo and let him cry until he's done. Neither of them mentioned the soft purr-like sound Ranboo started making. It was something along cat purring and a much calmer angry enderman noises. "Sorry," Tubbo muttered between soft sobs. Ranboo just purred more and dragged Tubbo to sit on the bed. Soon they both unknowingly fell asleep. Tubbo crying about what could have been and Ranboo purring softly, purple creeping into the edges of his vision.

Just as Ranboo was falling asleep he could swear he heard Dream somewhere in his mind. 'Take care of him for me, beastie.' followed by a slow humming of a lullaby, both familiar and alien to him (A/N: check Ranboo's Lullaby by Hator).

Ranboo got woken up by the sun right into his lidless eyes. Tubbo was still sleeping so he let him be...

"Morning hot stuff," Tubbo muttered from somewhere around Ranboo's chest "We should probably get up and bring you back to Techno and Philza before they notice you're gone," he added with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"I tend to disappear for long periods of time so I think we have some time, you better?" he asked as Tubbo began attempting to get himself out of the cocoon Ranboo became overnight.

"How often does your communicator ping on those days? Every hour?" Tubbo asked pointing to the thing which, as to give his point some weight pinged at that exact moment.

"Should have written to Phil last evening," Ranboo muttered letting Tubbo go, and just as Tubbo went to the other room to start breakfast did he look at his communicator. Fifty messages from Phil and five from Technoblade, all along the lines of 'where are you?' and 'you good, mate?' With a small smile Ranboo replied:

"I'm okay, communicator died for a while on me. Be back home by evening or tomorrow depending on the weather."

"I think we'll have to get me back to Anarchy Town soon, Phil's freaking out," Ranboo said as Tubbo came back with two steaming cups of tea.

"That's too bad, I was hoping to keep you for a bit longer," he was trying to joke but it was obvious he wasn't.

"I can come by from time to time," Ranboo offered with a meek smile, "as long as no one follows me here we should be okay."

"That would be nice, skeleton's aren't very talkative..."

"Whatever you say handsome," Ranboo said smugly,  remembering how Tubbo addressed him earlier.

"You better not be hitting on me, mister," Tubbo feigned being offended as a skeleton brought two identical plates of breakfast with beans, bread, egg, ham and tomatoes. Ranboo looked at Tubbo in distress over the amount of different food on his plate.

"You started flirting first," Ranboo said seeing no sympathy for his weak, brought up on potatoes self.

For a moment they were quiet until Tubbo couldn't stand it anymore. "I'll need more beds if that's the case, and don't bring last night up, that was..."

"That was last night and that's it?" Ranboo proposed with a pretend glare at his food, it was good but he'd never admit it.

"Yes, at least that's something to do. How far do you think your place is from here? You're with Techno and Phil, right? They're also in some snowy hellhole so it can't be all that far, right?" Tubbo agreed.

After a quick check-up with Philza, it was about half a day way in good weather so Tubbo gave Ranboo a lovely tour of Snowchester as he called his one-man colony, and they set out on the long trek to the Anarchy Commune. When the roof of Techno's house could be seen in the distance Tubbo and two skeleton's he dragged with them along the way. "I guess I'll leave you here." As much as they had fun on the way this was suddenly very awkward. "And I'll see you sometime, handsome."

Ranboo laughed awkwardly at the compliment, "I... are you tactically flirting with me?"

"No, I'm going home. So bye, remember to write to me or I'll send an army of skeletons to drag you back or whatever." Tubbo said turning around as not to show how distressed he was.

"Oh, I will call you so you better answer when I do." All seriousness of the statement was lost as both of them burst out laughing.

[thessalian]

Alisaie: Piety, Craftsmanship, Strength. Srina: Critical Hit, Determination, Gathering. Jallira: Mind, Control, Spell Speed.

Alisaie

Piety: How does religion affect your character’s lifestyle?

That would entirely depend on the working definition of ‘religion’. Religion as an organised concept being very different from faith as an abstract, actual organised religion doesn’t affect her life all that much beyond what other people believe. Yeah, sure, she’s descended from a divine being in a fairly direct way, but that’s not religion; that’s not even really faith. So unless anyone’s getting exceedingly weird about her celestial heritage (xref: parents freaking out over their daughter sprouting wings so she didn’t plummet to the death to which they’d flung her, said same parents joining an apocalypse cult and considering her an abomination, and any other situation wherein someone’s religion decides she needs worshipping or killing), her religious life in specific is more about, “Hey, hi, thanks for the nice stuff and for being good to my friends; sorry some people think I’m more divine than I maybe am; catch you later” than anything else.

Craftsmanship: What hobbies does your character enjoy?

She likes dancing. Reading. Singing. And, if you can call it a hobby, decorating and doing Fashion Stuff with her friends and loved ones as her mannequins. She may not be able to sew worth a damn, but she’s got an eye for colour and line and she likes making use of her talents.

Strength: What is your character’s greatest virtue?

I think it’s somewhere between her empathy and her fortitude, and the only reason I have issues deciding between the two is because they’re pretty heavily intertwined. When she’s being supportive of others, it’s often at her own expense; when she’s standing up for herself, she’s still doing it in a way that doesn’t invalidate the views and stance of anyone else (at least those whose views and stance don’t really need invalidating via a blade to the tender bits, anyway).

Srina

Critical Hit: What is your character’s biggest weakness? Do they try to overcome it?

Srina’s big thing is self-reliance to the point of arrogance. She will never ask for the things she needs because she has convinced herself that if she has to ask for them, she doesn’t really need them. She doesn’t try to fix this because to a point, she’s right - she has her tricks and manoeuvres to get just about anything she needs ... including validation, respect, trust and even something resembling friendship. Also she will never, ever admit that she’s wrong - which hasn’t entirely been a problem as yet because the very, very few times she has been, it’s because the data was faulty, not because her analysis of it was incorrect.

Determination: Which emotions motivate your character to do what they do?

Pride. That’s it. That’s the post. ...No, seriously, Srina takes great pride in everything she has achieved, particularly given the handicap she had at the start of things. She knows how good she is, she intends to continue getting better for as long as possible, and she will never rest on her laurels. And okay, maybe some of that pride is to do with keeping this unbelievable bunch of goobers alive and functional because life would be way less interesting without them but she’s not saying that. Nope. Never.

Gathering: What is something material your character wishes they had more of?

...Honestly, nothing. What she wants, she either has or can get. Material things don’t hold a lot of interest for her unless they can get her the one thing she always wants above anything else - information.

Jallira

Mind: What does your character do to cope with a stressful situation?

That can be summed up in a single phrase: “I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me”. She trusts the Force, she trusts her team, and she trusts herself; everything else can be dealt with on the emotional level later, when there’s a spare moment in which to do so that won’t result in something going wrong. If it’s not an immediate combat or diplomatic situation, though ... either meditation or throwing herself into her work to the point of locking the lab door and not coming out until either someone makes her or she can’t even lean on the Force to keep going anymore (though she’s got better at that last and will sometimes come out even before she reaches collapse point for a hug and some dinner; that’s as much for Ami and Harridin as because Mae’s screaming at her through the Force-bond these days).

Control: What is your character’s view of fate/destiny?

...Complicated, as it’s always going to be for someone who is in tune with the Force, because there are so many theories about what the Force is and how it works that you’re never going to get a straight answer about that from any Jedi. Jallira’s theory goes that both theories - the Unifying Force and the Living Force - are true to an extent; that the Force is a living thing made up of lots and lots and lots and lots of other living things, and that each little tiny living thing has its own influence on the course of things in terms of the flow and ‘will’, for lack of a better term, of the Force. Basically, she’ll see how the various twists and turns of the galaxy inexorably led to, say, Ami’s birth, but she can also see that if the Force was tilted to even a single degree more or less in a certain direction, it would never have happened - more good in the world, maybe the Sacking wouldn’t have happened, or Garr wouldn’t have been such an asshole, or it would have been safe to send Harridin somewhere that wasn’t the Marran once he ratted out the individual responsible for selling the militia’s kolto on the black market... You get the picture. She believes in destiny but she also believes that destiny is always changing and that she can play a part in changing that destiny so she may as well just do the right thing as much as possible.

Spell Speed: Is your character magically proficient? If so, how do they cast it?

Again, that depends on who you ask, I suppose. I know the Force is basically Space Magic, though Jallira literally can’t see it that way because it’s so much a part of her essential self - it’d be like calling your eyes magic, for her. But going at it from external first principles ... a lot of it’s instinctual. I mean, she uses the Force to see and she’s an empath, and that latter means that half the time, it’s less about using it than it is about making sense of what’s already coming in, or extending an ability already in use. That’s for Sense and, to a point, for Control. Alter ... Alter’s got a few different branches to it. Force Telekinesis is really, really easy for her - she’s been training to use it offensively long before she should have been, and anyway, because of how she sees, she’s already got things around her sensed through the Force; all she has to do is focus and mentally shove. Force Healing is similar, if more draining; she knows how the body’s supposed to work because she can ‘see’ it working; she knows what’s wrong and she knows what to nudge to make a thing work the way it’s supposed to, or accelerate something it’s already doing (like closing a wound, for example). Same with Force Persuasion - she already knows what someone’s feeling if they’re anywhere near her, so nudging that into a shape more conducive to her needs is just the next step (even if she hardly ever does it because she thinks it’s invasive and gross). But then there’s the Flames, and that’s where it gets really weird with her, because unlike most of her former group, she doesn’t reach for righteous fury for the Flames. She only knows ‘righteous fury’ - or anger at all - from the emotions of others; she’s never been truly angry a day in her life. She draws on the hearth-flame of compassion instead; her focus isn’t on being against the evil that stands before her but on being for the people standing beside or behind her. It’s a lot easier to use the Flames in a collected, focused way when there’s not fury involved ... which may be why she found ways of using the Flames that no one else has, combining them with biotech to make ways to cure possession and taint without causing undue injury, or shield those who aren’t Force-sensitive from those things, or even for those who aren’t Force-sensitive to see the Dark Side. Basically, in that saying from that long-ago group about being either the sword or the shield? She’s a bit of sword, a lot of shield, and even more vibroscalpel.

[sohin-ace]

Josuke - Ghost

This is cross-posted from Wattpad and available on AO3.

Enjoy~

Ghost! Fem! reader x Josuke

There was something wrong with Josuke these days and he knew it. Ever since the beginning of that summer it felt like all the weirdest events kept happening.

As if having a serial killer on the loose in town wasn't enough, he started to see someone. It happened very suddenly, he was alone in his bedroom when he heard a faint and feminine voice.

It was like she was calling for help, but when she finally appeared in front of him, he was close to shitting his pants, fainting and having a heart attack, all at the same time.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"

When he saw the spirit, his first thought was that you were a Stand, and he immediately called his own, ready to beat the crap out of you.

By some miracle, you managed to calm him down and explain to him that you weren't a Stand at all. That would explain why you were sentient and could form actual coherent sentences.

Josuke kept on seeing that ghost in his house every other day. At first he was obviously freaked out and wanted to call an exorcist or more conveniently, Jotaro to help him get rid of her.

But at the end of the day, she was very sweet and he took a liking to her. He didn't mind the compagny and she made him get his mind off things. Call him crazy, but at this point in his life, nothing could get any weirder.

"Hey, did you always live here or did you suddenly found yourself in my house?" He asked after being accustomed to your frequent visits.

"I roamed into the endless void until I felt something connecting me to this place, that's why I'm here."

He shuddered. What a morbid choice of words. "Well you sure know how to spook people..."

You chuckled. "I still wonder why I suddenly latched on this house. I didn't mean to haunt you."

He shivered again as he rolled to the side of his bed. Why was the room so cold? He got up to put something on his back and warm himself up.

"Are you making the temperature drop or something with your ghostliness? It's summer but I'm freezing!"

"Hmm, maybe it's my voice." It was true that your soft voice held a distant resonnance to it that made you sound quite litteraly out of this world. This always intrigued him, but he was charmed by it.

"Or maybe it's because I'm..."

"Don't do it." He warned, only expecting a bad ghost pun from you, but you only smiled a big grin and striked an impossible pose.

"...Drop dead gorgeous?"

"GET OUTTA HERE!"

You both laughed at your goofiness and had a great time. Despite you being a ghost, Josuke couldn't help but be enamored with you. You were pretty cute and funny and you seemed attentive to even the smallest details about him.

"You know... y-you would have been my t-type of girl..."

He trailed off and turned his face away from you to hide his furious blush, embarassed to admit it. You chuckled at his cute behavior.

"If I was still alive..." Your expression softened with a hint of melancholy. "Please don't love me. I don't want to induce more pain to others..."

"..."

That was how you two would hang out from time to time, when you appeared in his house. He couldn't talk about this with anyone else, not even Okuyasu. But he didn't mind, in fact, he kind of liked that you were his little secret.

"Heeyyy ghooost girl! I'm boreeed!" Josuke lazily called out, hoping that you would come out without having him making some Ouija rituals or anything.

"Hey! That's rude, I have a name!" You poked your head through one of the walls and floated over him, who was laying on his bed.

"Well you never told me it!" He deadpanned as you hovered over him, inching towards his face.

"Well you never asked!" you bickered back.

"Well what's your name, ghost girl?"

You backed away from him and put yourself in a sitting position on his bed as you looked at him. "My name is Y/N Zeppeli. And I already know your name, Josuke Higashikata."

He shot up in his bed and stared at you wide eyed "Wait! Y/N that's your name? It's so cute! It fits you way better than ghost girl!"

Even without a body of flesh and blood, you swore you felt your face blushing profusely right now.

"O-of course it does! Why did you even start calling me that!" You pouted and he laughed at you.

More days passed together and he shared all of his stories with you. He would talk about his day and you were quite fascinated by how passionate he was towards his friends. Especially that Okuyasu guy, he sounded like a lot of fun.

"Oh, Y/N I always wanted to ask you something." His tone and expression turned serious suddenly and you nodded at him, gesturing him to go on.

He scooted over to you, getting all close and personnal as he stared into your eyes, a little bit hesitant to ask.

"Do you... Remember how you died...?"

You flinched at his question and he gasped, sensing your distress and instantly regretting his words.

"Y-you don't have to answer if it's too painful! I can't even imagine what it'd be like to remember your own death..." He fretted, feeling like an idiot for even bringing that up.

You looked down, a sad smile gracing your lips.

"Josuke." You breathed and his heart skipped a beat at the way you pronounced his name, sending shivers down his spine.

"Y-yes?" He was blushing red. Why did he feel so affected suddenly.

"You are... A descendant of the Joestar bloodline, right?"

"Joestar...?" Now he was curious. "Yes, how did you know?"

"There are other Joestars in this very house, right?" He gulped as you splurted truths after truths and he started to get very uncomfortable.

"Y/N you're scaring the shit out of me..." As you didn't answer and didn't move a single inch he continued. "Y-yeah, there's more of my family here... Why?"

You suddenly floated away from your seated position in front of him, and did something very unexpected.

You came closer to him, way closer than you've ever been before, and glided your hands under the strap of his sleeveless shirt. The proximity and the contact flustering him to no end.

"W-w-what are you doing...?!" He stuttered shakily, his face and ears burning as your bodiless form came in contact with the skin of his back and shoulders.

It felt weird, you didn't have skin to touch him, but what he felt of you was a cold but comforting breeze, tickling and grazing his skin ever so slightly, raising every single hair on his arms and back of his neck with goosebumps.

It wasn't unpleasant, in fact, it was quite pleasurable. But the shock he was left in didn't let room for his mind to drift off towards any undesired thoughts. He glanced at you and your beautiful yet dulled features from the corner of his eyes.

He couldn't help but think that you must have been so incredibly pretty when you were alive. That you must have held the most delicious of warmths and ministrated the sweetest of caresses.

But you were gone. So young too. He felt blessed to have met you, but cursed that it would be in such circumstances.

You carefully moved his strap from his back to stare at the star that was deeply imprinted into his skin. You sighed in understanding as your doubts were confirmed.

You slowly backed away from his shoulder and stopped right in front of his face. "Josuke Joestar..."

His whole body tensed up again, he gulped loudly and his heart was beating anxiously fast at the name you just called him.

"The reason I'm latched onto this home is because the Joestars dwell here." You spoke honestly as you were slowly putting the pieces together.

"What?" He gasped at the sudden confession.

You were linked to his family line? But why? He was so confused and had so many questions. As if you had read his mind, you continued.

"The Zeppeli bloodline has been linked to the Joestars for centuries." You paused and looked down again, trying to find the right words.

Josuke was staring at you, speechless as he listened to your story. He had always found you so mysterious and intriguing, but now that he was starting to know the truth, he felt like it was something that should have been left unknown.

He felt like he was digging into something he shouldn't, that the outcome would leave one of you heartbroken.

But somewhat this was fate. Whatever would happen was bound to happen. You clenched your fists over your lap before continuing.

"Our sole purpose.... is to die for you." You breathed, not quite daring to look at him in the eye just yet.

His whole body shook and his mouth fell agape. He tried to form words, but he was so overwhelmed by all the informations, he couldn't believe what he was hearing from you.

How come he didn't know something like that? Did Jotaro know? Did Joseph know? He had so many questions, he didn't know where to start.

"Th-that means..." He started, his voice stuck in his throat. "That... You... You-"

"I died for my Joestar." You continued for him, a melancholic smile reaching your lips and eyes.

"W-who was it...?" He faintly managed to utter, barely over a whisper, not wanting the question to leave his mouth, and terrified of the answer.

Untangible tears prickled in your eyes and you finally looked up at him.

"I'm so happy that you are alive, Josuke." Your voice cracked into a sob as heavy tears spilled down your face.

Josuke felt his throat tighten painfully, he couldn't breathe. "No..." He denied, not wanting to accept what he was understanding. "No way... No...no...no..."

You nodded slowly, confirming his doubts and placed your cold hands upon his cheeks.

You admired the depth of his blue eyes in completely fondness. He was so beautiful, and he looked healthy. You were glad, so glad.

"You became such a wonderful person. If I had a second chance, I would not hesitate to give my life for you again."

"Y/N DON'T SAY THAT!!!" He snapped completely as he processed the revelation, his voice cracking. "THERE'S NO FUCKING WAY, YOU'RE JOKING!! TELL ME YOU'RE LYING TO ME!!!"

You leaned in and pressed your forehead against his and the boy couldn't contain his tears anymore as he sobbed heavily.

You had died for him. You sacrificed yourself so he could live, and he didn't even have the chance to know you, to cherish you.

He would have never known what you did for him if it wasn't for your sudden paranormal appearance in his house, and now he couldn't even return the favor.

With these thoughts in mind, he cried harder, like a lost little boy, but he didn't care anymore. You ran your thumbs over his tears in a desperate and vain attempt to wipe them.

"Don't cry Josuke." You reassured softly, "It makes me happy that you lived to be such a lovely and caring man."

"B-but... Y/N... I didn't even know you! I couldn't even save you! Now I can't even thank you!" He cried heavily, speaking his pain through his loud sobs.

You shook your head. "You being happy and in good health is enough for me. It means that my death had meaning."

"O-of course! I won't waste your sacrifice, trust me! I will live my life to the fullest and cherish every single day! I will make your death meaningful and worth it."

You leaned back just a slight bit to look into his soaking eyes. The gaze you wore was so full of love, his heart ached like needles pierced through it.

"You are priceless, Josuke. Thank you for being alive."

"Thank you for saving my life, Y/N." He finished awfully calm, dejected at his own helplessness.

You hugged him close to you and craddled him in an inexistant hold, but he still felt your warmth, somehow. He put his hands around your back, craving the feel of your body, something that he will never have.

After staying still, enjoying each other's presence one last time, you asked him permission with an airy voice that soothed him.

"Josuke, may I pass on...?"

"... You may."

And just like that, you faded away, towards the other side. Where you would finally meet with your ancestors, where all the Joestars and the Zeppelis were bound to meet again. Where he would hopefully join you one day.

Left alone in the silence of his room, he had finally accepted your fate and his.

Dressed in a black suit, Josuke walked the streets of Morioh, one hand holding a bouquet of flowers, and the other tucked in his pocket.

He couldn't care less of the fawns and whispers of the girls passing by him, complimenting how handsome he looked and how lucky the girl they assumed he was seeing must be.

He directed himself towards his dreaded destination. Contrary to what you see in fictions, the cemetary didn't hold a morose or scary ambiance at all.

It was comfortably silent. The air felt fresher here than in any other place in town. The only sound heard was his dress shoes hitting the gravel.

He walked slowly by the isles, eyes scanning the names and dates on the tombstones. Memorial of loved ones. Place of rest. It was relaxing.

After walking and searching for 10 more minutes, his eyes finally found the name he was looking for. It took all his self control to not run towards it.

'Here lies Y/N Zeppeli'

He sighed and sat down in front of the name. What-if scenarios kept on running through his mind. What if he had met you when you were alive? What if he had saved you?

"At the end of the day... You didn't even tell me how you died. How will I avenge you if I don't know who killed you?" He uttered as he gently laid the flowers on the grave.

A gust of icy cold wind suddenly washed over him, carressing his face. Strange, it was supposed to be a fairly warm day and the wind hasn't been blowing all day. He scoffed, which soon turned into a chuckle.

"Oh I see how it is. It's a sign, isn't it?" He paused and looked up at the clear yellow sky. "It's probably better if I don't know..." He whispered quietly to himself.

He felt like he needed a break from his bizarre adventure, and now was just the perfect moment.

He looked intently at your tombstone and how your name was neatly engraved in the mineral until he noticed a little crack on the upper side.

He gasped and scrambled to his knees to get a closer look at it. What the hell? Who dared damage your last home?

He glided his fingers along the lines of the crack and clicked his tongue. He then leaned in, and gently pressed his lips on it, using Crazy Diamond to fix it back.

He smiled at his handiwork, the stone looking brand new again. You deserved at least that.

"That's the least I could do for you."

Bonus:

One day as you were hanging out with Josuke, you looked around his room curiously. He then laid back lazily on his bed and looked up at you as you stopped to inspect one of his posters. His eyes suddenly widened, focusing on one particular thing.

"Hey! When you float over me like that I can see under your skirt!"

You gasped in disbelief. "What?! No way!"

You looked down at him and tensed up, flustered. He perked up in a sitting position to get a better view.

"OOOHOOH GHOST UNDIES!! NICE!!!" He roared in victory and you tried desperately to slap him, your hands flying right through him as he snickered.

"JOSUKE YOU BIG PERV!!! I'll give you sleep paralysis tonight!!" You threatened and he stopped, his expression shifting to panick.

"W-w-whoa hey you're not serious!! You can actually do that??"

Long as fuck. I didn't mean to make it heartbreaking, but shit happens.

Could crazy Diamond fix that fanfic?

[leahxx129]

Tragedy of Butterflies (Peter Quill x Reader)

Hi there. Quick personal note: it appears that the personal thing I’m struggling with at the moment will go on for around another month, but I have lots of story ideas and will try to write & post some. 

As for the story... I feel like that Chris Pratt is the most underrated Chris from all the MCU Chrises, so I wanted to show a little love for him & one of his more famous character.

Summary: As a result of the Snap, Peter Quill dies in your arms and your heart shatters to pieces since you’ve been secretly in love with him for quite a while now. What happens 5 years later when everyone is brought back to the battle field, including some very unexpected people? 

Warnings: cursing 

Word count: 1.630-ish

You have no idea how much time has passed since the wizards brought everyone to the field and the guy with the shield commenced the battle against Thanos, but you’re pretty sure about one thing - within the next couple of minutes you’re going to suffer an excruciating death.

The creature knocked you over in a blink of an eye, you never even saw it coming, and both of your machetes flew out of reach. You can brush one’s handle with your fingertips but it’s still a far stretch... You desperately try to take in a few punches, but the damn thing is clawing at you with a foaming mouth, wanting to tear your throat out like a freaking otherworldly Cujo, so the majority of your energy is invested in self-defense. Even through the beast’s grumble you can hear the battle screams and death rattle of warriors trying their best to defeat the other army and fail at it.

Your arms are getting numb and a strange mixture of calmness and serenity dazes your mind. Maybe death wouldn’t be the worst-case scenario. You’re tired and you’ve certainly done your fair share over the years… Then his face flashes before your eyes and you relinquish every single thought of surrender in an instant.

He always demanded everyone to call him Star-Lord, but to friends he was Quill and to you, only Peter. You can’t just go down like this, you owe putting up a real fight to him. That’s the least you could do since you were unable to save him the first time you all faced Thanos…

You’ve known Peter since you were a little girl. You happened to be in the hospital when his mom died and followed him outside just to accidentally be snatched by Yondu as well...

He was nothing but a silly boy to you for a very long time – he would pull your hair, try to frighten you by telling ghost stories or play mean pranks on you... Then one day you suddenly realized he became so much more, and the mere fact that you had no clue how it happened scared the crap out of you.

Naturally, this escaped his notice, so every time he obtained a new notch in his belt, you died a little inside and swore an oath that you’d never be one of his conquests. An oath you broke not long after having sworn it... You fell so miserably in love with the man that you let yourself turn into his occasional bed warmer because even a relationship like that was more than nothing. At least that’s what you made yourself believe to help you sleep at night...

His lips felt incredibly soft as he peppered your neck with featherlight kisses in the dark.

His fingertips almost made you catch on fire when they traced your skin under the covers.

And the way he whispered sweet nothings into your ears when nobody else was around brought you to the verge of losing your goddamn mind every single time.

You found him completely and utterly intoxicating. Peter was addictive like a drug. And you lived for the high.

For a short period of time it looked like as if he was beginning to return your feelings, but then Gamora showed up and shattered every illusion to a thousand pieces. You couldn’t blame her - it’s not like she demanded Peter to shower her with his attention. But you couldn’t blame Peter, either, because Gamora was close to perfection… so, all you did was blaming yourself and pretending to be happy for the slyest thief in the galaxy day after day.

Truth be told, every night when you closed your eyes you imagined how it would feel like if the Zehoberei woman just simply got out of the picture, but with God as your witness, you never wished for her departure to be this way. When Thanos revealed on the Titan that he’d murdered her, the confession broke Peter and seeing him like that broke you.

Then came the Snap.

Peter pulverized in your arms and you would have given everything in the entire galaxy to trade your life for his. Later on, you joined Rocket and you’ve been by his side ever since as he appeared to be the only one to share your grief and understand your pain, but more importantly, he was the only other remaining member of the guardians and being close to him reminded you of better times.

Your fingers inch a bit closer to the machete’s handle but when you try to flick it in your direction the only thing you manage to do is just push it farther away.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” you yell as a generous amount of the monster’s saliva lands on your neck a second later. “Could this situation get any worse?”

The answer comes right away when the thing overpowers you and you feel a set of razor-sharp teeth sink into your shoulder. The scream ripping from your lungs makes your own blood run cold. You close your eyes and await the next – and probably the last - lash out but it never comes. Instead, you hear a gun shot and the beast collapses onto you. Realizing that you’re still alive and kicking, you push it off and freeze at the sight of your savior. He’s standing far away, face not visible, but you could recognize that stance anywhere.

“Peter?!” you scream his name and hope he heard it through all the turmoil.

The stranger touches the side of his mask to reveal the face you haven’t seen in the past five years but dreamt of every single night.

Not minding the shoulder wound you jump to your feet and start limping towards him, picking up the pace when you see him do the same. Within a couple of seconds, the distance is closed, and you fall into his arms, tears streaming down your face. The familiar minty scent invades your nostrils and you can feel his stubble tickle your face. It’s him. It’s really him. You hug him even tighter.

“Peter…” you lean away a few inches to be able to look into his eyes but before you can say anything, he crashes his lips onto yours, leaving you completely dumbfounded. You kiss him back, nevertheless.

“What was that for?” you ask after breaking apart, shielding your genuine curiosity with a small smile.

“I love you.” He breathes against your lips, panting heavily.

Your eyes widen.

“Okay, I must have a little monster saliva clogging my ears because what I heard was that you love me and that cannot be the real reason.”

He lets out a chuckle.

“I don’t know about the saliva sweetheart, but you heard me right.”

You eye him suspiciously.

“I don’t get it.”

His signature lopsided smile appears on his face, but his gaze radiates sadness. You remind him of what his mom used to tell him about the tragedy of butterflies. Their wings are exquisitely beautiful and yet they can’t see them, just as you can’t see your own beauty and worth.

“I’ve loved you for quite a while now, Y/N.” he caresses your cheek with his thumb. “When we became friends…uhm… with benefits… I-I thought it was better than nothing, so I went along. But deep inside I knew it was not enough for me. And I couldn’t imagine a galaxy where someone like you would seriously be interested in someone like me. So, when Gamora showed up I decided to move on and try to develop a healthy relationship with somebody else… so much for that, huh?”

“Oh, Peter…” you begin but he hushes you.

“Ssshh, okay, just let me finish please.” He takes a deep breath, obviously struggling to hold back tears. “I cared for her. I really did. But when I woke up in that strange place, do you know who’s name I was screaming for hours? Yours. I loved her but I’m in love with you. Promise you’ll never leave me, please.”

You open your mouth to respond but a series of gunshots rip through the air missing your head just by inches and one of Thanos’ mutant soldiers collapses behind your back.

“I’m really glad you two idiots have finally figured your shit out but we’re on a battlefield right now and I can’t keep on saving your asses while you’re having a heart-to-heart!”

Nebula’s familiar voice provides an explanation for the shots but when you both turn to her direction, she’s not alone. You can feel a knot form in your stomach.

“Gamora?” Peter asks incredulously.

“Who’s this guy?” the person in question turns to Nebula with a clueless facial expression.

“He was hitting on you in an attempt to forget how desperately in love he was with the girl he’s holding right now.”

Gamora’s eyebrows fly up.

“Wow… and the me in this dimension didn’t see through the situation? No wonder she’s dead.”

“This dimension? What’s going on? Is she from a different one?” you find your voice and address the question to Nebula.

“We don’t have time for this. I’ll tell everything after this is over... you know, on the off chance we survive...” She flashes a mechanic smile and disappears with her sister.

Peter is still staring at the place where they stood just seconds ago. You gently put your palm on the side of his face and make him look you in the eyes.

“I promise!” you vow and kiss him hungrily.

There are two things you’re hoping for at the moment - you want to survive this battle more than anything so you could be with Peter and you also pray that Gamora’s return won’t affect a single thing.

[artificialqueens]

Rollercoaster (Crystal x Gigi x Nicky) - Mina

A/N: Two fics in one queue? This is what happens when Nicky said she reads these! Hope you all enjoy <3

“Nicky wake up! We’re heeeeere!” Crystal said excitedly, shaking the blond who was cuddled into her shoulder awake. 

Nicky whined sleepily, pushing the curly haired girl lightly for cutting her slumber short. “Don’t remind me bitch, we should’ve stayed home” she complained, unaffected by Crystal’s disappointed pout. 

It was…warm, unpleasantly so, but the tiny red Sedan that Gigi had received as a handed down birthday gift from her parents had a broken air conditioner that always proved a problem in the summer months and there was nothing much Nicky could combat it with. Still, that had helped lull Nicky to sleep quickly in the back seat and she had thankfully slept through the almost the entire two hours of the drive, no doubt filled with Gigi’s terrible road rage and Crystal attempting to lighten the mood with the worst dad jokes in human history. When Crystal had first told the other two girls that how desperately she wanted to go to this certain amusement park about two and a half hours away from their shared apartment in the city, Nicky hadn’t exactly been ecstatic. She hated long drives, hated most rides theme parks had to offer, and didn’t feel very fondly towards loud noises either. The French girl would’ve happily sat this one out, preferring to stay at home and read or binge watch a shitty Netflix show, but once Gigi had agreed excitedly and looked into the older girls eyes pleadingly, how could Nicky have possibly said no? And thats how she had ended up sitting willingly in the back seat next to Crystal, spending the drive running her fingers through the other girls unruly hair and co plain into about the lack of food.

“Woah, there’s hardly any crowds!” Gigi remarked brightly, opening the door for the two other girls. Nicky took her hand with a grimace, carefully stepping out of the car and onto the concrete. ‘C'est la vie’ Nicky thought to herself grimly.

“Girl, what are the appeal of these things?” Nicky asked as she looked at the people racing down water slides and lining up for entry, seriously wondering why anyone would choose this over a cup of black coffee and people watching while wrapped up in a furry coat and blanket.

“Don’t be like that, Dolly” Gigi chastised with a grin, seemingly just as excited as Crystal.

“Gigi’s right and you know it, Nicky! Which ride should we go on first?!” Crystal asked, her grin twinkling as she linked arms with the other two girls and lead them past the ticket machines and into the theme park. It seemed pretty generic, rollercoasters and haunted houses and the overwhelming smell of greasy food Nicky wouldn’t dare put five metres away from her mouth.

“Oooh, what about that big roller coaster?” Gigi grinned, gesturing towards the most terrifying ride Nicky had ever seen in her life. The blond was usually confident, not scared of most things like bears or heights or big crowds. She was the girlfriend that would take care of any bugs that freaked out Gigi or Crystal, who would coax the other two girls into things mountain climbing or public speaking. However, if there was one thing she just didn’t fuck with, it was rollercoasters, especially not ones that looked like that.

“I read about that one online! It’s called Satans Playground! How spooky” The green haired girl babbled, kissing Gigi gently on her forehead and receiving a giggle from the younger girl in return. There was many things wrong with this appropriately named ‘Satans Playground’. It went underground, holy shit. Had a giant drop, holy fuck. And, the cherry on top of the rotted, gutted cake was the three consecutive loops, holy shit fuck balls nope no way in hell was she riding that thing. 

“I’ll sit this one out, I think” Nicky faltered, unhooking her arms from her girlfriends grasps and curling them around herself like a shield. The other two looked at her confusedly, not used to seeing Nicky so nervous.

“You don’t have to go on it if you don’t want to, Nicky” Crystal said quickly, rubbing up and down Nicky’s arm as if the French girl was a scared little kitten. Gigi smiled reassuringly at her form behind the green haired girl and shooting her a thumbs up of encouragement. Her heart warmed at her girlfriends soothing words, but they didn’t stop her from feeling like a boring old French grandma who hated fun and adventure. So, with a deep breath she mustered up a smile and linked the trios arms back together, pulling them towards the ride.

“You know what, this doesn’t look that scary now that we’re in line!” Nicky remarked, seemingly reassuring herself more than the other two. Crystal seemed satisfied with that, continuing to gush about the rollarcoaster like an excited puppy, but Gigi eyed her suspiciously.

“Are you sure, Dolly? We could go get ice cream first instead” Gigi suggested quietly, studying the blonds face for any signs of discomfort. Nicky desperately wanted to scream ‘Yes, let’s go get ice cream instead!’ but both her girlfriends excited squealing and laughing were her biggest weaknesses and she couldn’t find it in her ruin this for them, not on her deathbed.

“Don’t worry about it, petite fille. I’ll have fun” The French girl lied, holding Gigi closer and suppressing a smile at the brunette eagerly accepting the hug.

“Alright, who’s next in line?” The employee asked listlessly. He was supposedly dressed in theme, saggy red devil ears sitting sadly on top of his slightly balding head. His lack of enthusiasm normally would’ve made Nicky stifle a laugh but instead her body started shaking as it started to set in that merde, we’re next. I’m gonna die I’m gonna die I’m gonna-

“That’s us!” Crystal answered brightly, taking Nicky and Gigi’s hands and pulling them towards the cart. Nicky got the middle seat thankfully, which slightly obstructed her view of what was to come. The ride jolted as it started to move, and Nicky gasped loudly once it started speeding up and heading down its track, Crystal cackling at her fear and none the wiser to the French girls internal turmoil. Once it started heading into the underground tunnel Nicky knew she was truely down for, muttering French curse words under her breath like a preyer and clenching her teeth together tightly. Crystal was having the time of her life on the blondes left, a huge grin spread across her face as she cheered and raised her hands up, green hair puffing up in the wind and making her look like a neon painted lion. Gigi didn’t seem to be having as great a time though, pretty face tensed nervously as the youngest girl held onto Nicky’s hand like a lifeline and chewed her pink lips nervously.

“Woaah, here comes the best part!” Crystal shrieked eagerly, and Nicky’s head snapped forward as she realised that they were slowly climbing up the hill towards the first loop. 

“Mon dieu, mon dieu, mon dieu” Nicky murmured with fear. She quickly pressed kisses to her girlfriend faces, a last act of affection before her inevitable demise. ‘Here lies Nicolette Doll’ she envisioned her tombstone to read, ‘A dumb bitch who should not have listened to her hot as hell girlfriends’. Just as she was saying her final well wishes for her family, wondering who her giant supply of makeup would be given to after her death, the cart finally toppled over the edge of the hill and shot straight down directly towards the three loops.

The riders of the coaster screamed in unison as they were catapulted upside down again and again, the carts rumbling over the track before finally screeching to a stuttering halt that signalled the end of the ride.

The trio was dead silent for a few seconds, breathing heavily and clutching each other’s arms in vice grips before Nicky opened her mouth “That” she gasped out, body tremoring from the aftershocks and hair going a million different directions from the force of the ride “was the best thing I’ve ever done!” she cried, pulling her girlfriends into a hug and smiling wide. The tears that had started to form in her eyes as their cart fell over the loops had been ripped away and replaced with bright twinkles and excited laughs. Crystal smiled back at her, pearly white teeth on full display.

“I can’t believe you were scared at first, Nicky! That was the best thing I’ve ever done in my life, oh my god” Crystal exclaimed, leaning back in her seatbelt and smiling dazily. The two giggled together before they realised soft sobbing was coming from Nicky’s right side, mouths gaping when the two saw that Gigi was crying historically, tears running down her cheeks and black smudges of mascara all over her face. Nicky quickly pulled the brunettes face into her hands worriedly, loosening her grip in relief once she saw Gigi smile through her tears and wave the blond’s hands away. 

“That was the scariest thing I’ve ever fucking done” Gigi laughed, sobs still wracking through her body. “I need strawberry fucking ice cream right now, and I’m certainly not paying” Gigi managed to gasp out, Crystal cackling and agreeing to buy her some. Nicky’s cheeks ached from all the smiling she had done today, eyes bright from the two girls giggles and excitement. Maybe roller coasters weren’t that scary after all.

[glorifiedpigeon]

Fluffuary - My Muse and Inspiration

A Loceitmus oneshot for Choice OT3 day! Darren has to clean up yet another one of his best friend's messes. Unfortunately his kinda sorta maybe crush is Remus' brand new mess. Way to go, buddy.

AO3

"Dee, you've gotta help me!" Remus shouted, bursting into the room with a wild expression, the dramatic cape hanging off the shoulders of his frilly waistcoat fluttering with the movement.

"What is it now?" Darren asked with a heavy sigh. He glanced up to see Remus now engaged in a very odd tug of war over his cape with- "Logan Croft?"

"Oh good, you know him!" Remus exclaimed, sounding relieved.

"Ah, Mr. Salazar! I see you're familiar with my muse," Logan announced, and he straightened, fixing the glasses on his face.

"Your muse?" Darren asked, glaring at Remus.

"Loogie, why don't you go draw my face in the other room? I'm sure it's burned into your cranium, yeah?" Remus suggested.

"But the light was hitting you just perfectly ten paces over there, I was hoping-"

"Go draw me as a fish, that sounds fun, huh?" Remus suggested. Logan gasped, and he scrambled for the bag at his hip. Remus shoved him out of the room and slammed the door, quickly locking it.

Darren blinked. "Remus, what did you do?"

"I just wanted him to pay attention to me," Remus exclaimed.

"You charmed him to get his attention!? What spell did you use, because a simple glamour would not have him acting like he needs you to survive!" Darren snapped, gesturing angrily towards the door.

"He's an artist! His pictures are so pretty, I just… inspired him a little?" Remus said nervously. Darren gaped.

"Of course you used a muse spell, you goddamn romantics don't think about the consequences of anything!" Darren snapped, shoving Remus. "He's just a sketch artist, right? He won't be singing ballads to you in the dark of the night, or chiseling your face out of stone?"

Remus coughed and rocked on his heels. "Ah. He might be an everyman? Jack of all trades?"

Darren could've strangled Remus in that moment. "Remus. Fix it."

"I don't know how! How did you fix it when you accidentally spelled that theatre kid in seventh grade?" Remus demanded, flicking his cape aside and getting down on his knees. "Please, Dee, I need you to help me out!"

"My parents handled that for me, and I haven't studied a single charm spell since- I don't know how to fix this!" Darren protested. Remus whined.

"He hasn't let me eat my lunch, or bother my brother! He's just been making me pose for him!" Remus complained.

"That's your own fault!" Darren snapped, but he made his way over to the spellbooks on his shelf, disguised as law books.

"I wouldn't mind so much if he took a break. I'm pretty sure he sprained his wrist trying to paint me on a wall last night, but he won't stop- it's even freaking me out," Remus said, glancing at the door. Darren scowled.

"He's going to keep drawing, and painting and whatever else until he wastes away, Remus. That's the nature of the spell, he can't think of anything but you now," Darren explained, as he began paging through his barely touched book on charms. Remus frowned.

"I just wanted him to notice me. You talk about him all the time, and I just wanted to get his attention," Remus moaned.

"I talk about him because there's no way in hell that he'd be interested in me or in you. Logan Croft is a man of high standards," Darren scowled. Remus whined wordlessly in complaint. There was a knock at the door. Darren sighed heavily. "At least try to feed the poor man something while I work on reversing your stupid mistake."

Remus grumbled, but he opened the door anyway. Logan stood behind it with a big smile.

"I came up with a poem about your smile," Logan announced, looking more than proud of himself.

"What, you didn't set it to music and make a song?" Darren snorted to himself. He immediately regretted it as the man nearly dropped his sketchbook.

"Brilliant idea. I have to go home and get started right away-"

"Hey, Loogie, wait!" Remus exclaimed, but Logan was darting down the hallway too fast for Remus to stop him. He turned to Darren with an icy cold glare.

"Sorry, I didn't realize he could hear me," Darren said, feeling more than a little chagrined.

"I'm going to go catch up to him and try to bring him back," Remus sighed. "You worry about the reversal spell."

Darren began flipping through the book. Of all the goddamn spells, Remus had to choose the muse spell. It was a terrifying charm, a spell that twisted the mind of the affected party, causing them to lose sight of anything that didn't have to do with the caster. They would simply create tributes and fawn over the caster. Eventually, like poor damned Ameinias, their "love" would drive them to their deaths.

Or, at least, landed them in the hospitals and kept under watch so they didn't hurt themselves to try and use that… "inspiration" their muses gave them. Darren remembered being thirteen and terrified, finally begging his parents for help and confessing that he'd gotten Jeremy Olsen hospitalized. It was horrid, an absolute nightmare. Afterwards, his parents had sent him away to a boarding school, where he was not allowed to practice magic at all.

Darren never relied on magic to charm people again, especially not people he was fond of, like Logan Croft or Remus. And now his idiotic friend had gone and made the same terrible mistake. Well, he was determined to help him solve it.

Muse spell, muse spell, muse spell. Darren sighed as he scanned the page the spell was located on. Oh thank god, the reversal looked simple enough.

Suddenly, Remus kicked open the door, Logan Croft slung over his shoulder like a child throwing a tantrum.

"I wasn't finished! That child was about to lend me her chalk!" Logan cried out.

"Nope! You're gonna sit your pretty little ass down and let Darren here fix you up all nice and normal, yeah?" Remus interrupted. He shoved the door shut with a foot, and dropped Logan into a soft armchair.

"At least give me a pen and paper-"

"Nope!" Remus said, and he kicked the notepads Darren had been doing homework on off the coffee table so Logan couldn't reach them. Darren sighed heavily.

"I have the reverse incantation, Remus. Go stand in the corner and think about why a muse spell is more than a bad idea, okay?" Darren suggested. Remus pouted, but he still moved away to give Darren his space. "Hello, Croft."

"Salazar. Are you and Remus friends? You know, the light catches on him just splendidly, I'm almost jealous of what a pretty picture the two of you mak-"

"Yes, yes, he's utterly fascinating- do you have a middle name at all?" Darren asked.

Remus piped up, "It's-"

"I've heard just about enough out of you, Remus!" Darren snapped.

"My middle name is Berry," Logan informed.

"Wait, seriously?" Darren asked. He shook his head and looked back down at the tome in his arms. "Nevermind. Okay, well Logan Berry Croft… Notsgnik sumer esum wen eniht morf noitaripsni ekat dna eeht erofeb ytuaeb eht ezingocer."

In a sudden flash, Logan was blinking up at Darren in confusion. He looked around the room. "I- I feel as though I've made an awfully big fool of myself."

"No bigger a fool than Remus is every day," Darren assured. "Are you alright?"

"Ah… no? I mean- magic is real, I was charmed by a classmate, and I am currently in the apartment of another classmate, both of whom are technically strangers to me," Logan summarized rather succinctly. He glanced at the pile of notebooks on the floor, then at his left hand. "I didn't think there was anything other than drugs that could take away one's self preservation."

"Oh, are you in pain? Remus said he thought you hurt yourself earlier," Darren asked. He hovered over Logan, worried about his wrist. "He said he thought it might be sprained."

"I don't think so, but it certainly smarts. I won't be writing for a day at least," Logan said with a disapproving frown.

"I'll take notes for you in class," Darren offered. Logan managed a smile.

"That would be rather kind, thank you, Mr. Salazar," Logan stated.

"Just call me Darren." He probably sounded desperate, but Darren had never had this long a conversation with his classmate. He was relishing it.

"Wait, hang on, that reversal incantation was just the actual spell backwards! I could've done that easily!" Remus protested suddenly, and Darren rolled his eyes.

"The spellbook said it was a literal reverse incantation. Of course it was the spell backwards," Darren said drily. Logan snorted out a laugh.

"Is magic particular about language then?" Logan asked.

"Well, translations always have to be done carefully for a reason, you know," Darren pointed out.

"Or else someone could lose their head trying to cast a dancing spell!" Remus piped up, grinning wide. Logan actually burst out with a warm laugh. Darren stared at him, mystified.

"Well, I'd love to learn more about magic, then. If you're both available on Saturday, we could discuss it over dinner?" Logan suggested. Darren's heart skipped a beat.

"Sure! We'll see you at six?" Remus suggested.

"Six," Logan confirmed with a nod.

Darren squeaked, in a horribly undignified way. "Six."

@tsshipmonth2020

[jellybeanbeing]

Avatar: The Last Airbender Book Tag

I recently watched and finished Avatar: The Last Airbender for the first time in my life and it was sooooo good. I wanted to do a book tag to celebrate this event so here we are! This tag was created by Hannah from A Clockwork Reader!

Water:

Katara & Sokka: Best sibling relationship // Declan, Ronan, and Matthew Lynch from The Dreamer trilogy by Maggie Stiefvater

These three are far from perfect, but they are my favorite sibling trio. They are so different from each other but it adds to their dynamic. They can never fully understand each other and the choices they make but they’re there to care for the other when they’re in trouble. Sure, they don’t get along a lot, but not every set of siblings does. One of my favorite things about this trio is that they had a period of time where they hated each other and wanted nothing to do with each other (mainly Declan and Ronan) because of what had happened to their family but overtime, they learn to mend that wound and grow closer together. I just love my angsty boys.

Yue: Favorite star crossed lovers // Emma & Julian from The Dark Artifices series by Cassandra Clare

I know that a lot of people do not like this couple, and that’s valid. I really love this couple though. What can I say? I just love my angsty characters. But really, it’s the yearning and the “will they come out of this situation alive” pain that fuels my love for this couple. Their relationship is filled with so much intensity, and then you add in that factor of “we don’t know if they’ll have a happy ending” and it just hurts, but in a good way. They are strong-willed characters who have so much pain built up inside them and the one thing they so desperately want is each other and to be together but they can’t. Say what you want about this couple, but they are one of my top tier OTPs.

Blood Bending: A book with disturbing/unsettling concept // Thunderhead by Neal Shusterman

It feels odd to choose the second book in the series to talk about, but this book has one scene that almost made me vomit, and that has never ever happened to me before. This entire series’ concept is deeply unsettling because it’s set in a world where technology is so advanced that even death by natural causes has been conquered so people called ‘Scythes’ are tasked to keep the population at bay. Within that world, there is corruption with how Scythes choose to kill their victims. Before I say what I say, just know that I really like this series. Anyway. I have never been more nervous and angry while reading a book and I thought I had reached my limit with book one, but no. Book two was just a fucking treat. The ending was fucked. The buildup to it was fucked. What Goddard did to Tyger was what made me almost vomit, and just thinking about it and Goddard makes me want to rip my head off because what the fuck. I still haven’t read the third book yet, but I will. Soon. Maybe.

Earth:

Toph: A character whose strength surprised you/or surprised the other characters in the book // Kell Maresh from the Shades of Magic series by V.E Schwab

We all know Kell to be a powerful magician, but at the time when I read this, I didn’t really understand how powerful he was capable of being. He’s one of the few Antari in that world so obviously it would make sense that he has a huge amount of power. It wasn’t until the second book when it clicked in my head that Kell has the power to do so much more destruction. In the tournament scenes through Lila’s perspective, I started to see the extent of his powers because of how much he was holding back and it blew my freaking mind.  

The Tales of Ba Sing Se: Best short story/poetry collection // none

I have not read a lot of short story/poetry collections that really stand out to me so yeah, none for me.

Kyoshi Warriors: Best warrior character // Helene Aquilla from An Ember in the Ashes series by Sabaa Tahir

I love Helene Aquilla so much. She’s such a badass and it’s great. What I really love about her is that she’s not just a pretty face who wields a sword around. Yes, she’s strong physically and mentally at the beginning of the series, but during the journey she goes on, all of that is broken down until she’s at her most vulnerable. We are constantly seeing the turmoil inside her and it adds so much to her character. She’s far from perfect but those imperfections are what makes her such a strong character. 

Fire:

Zuko: Best redemption arc/a redemption arc that should have happened // Matthias Helvar from the Six of Crows duology by Leigh Bardugo

Literally, almost everyone hates him and I understand why but the amount of growth he goes through is one of the best things about his character. Sure, he’s a straight pasty white boy who, on the outside, is boring compared to the other five (or six???) characters but seeing his development from being a bigoted asshole to a more understanding and caring character was something I loved reading about. It takes a lot to unlearn the things you grew up thinking was true and heavily believed in, and to see a different view of the world. I do understand the meaning of his end but there was so much more potential for character to really grow even more than it did and I will forever be bitter.

Iroh: Wisest character // Evelyn Hugo from The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

Evelyn Hugo is such a great character. She starts from the bottom and then climbs her way to the top by doing things that are considered to be not ethically correct. She’s aware of all of that and yet she feels little to no shame about it because she did what she had to for the dream she wanted. She makes mistakes and has flaws but that never brings down her character. After all of that, she still holds herself up. She went through so much in her life and throughout the book, she provides so much insight on the choices she made and how they affected her. 

Azula: Best downfall // Bonnie from The End of the Fucking World S2

I know there’s a comic but I’m going to talk about the Netflix series, and I know it’s not a book but I really wanted to talk about Bonnie and her downfall. Would you call it a downfall? I don’t know really, but I guess I’ll consider it as one. Her downfall was by far the most emotional that I have ever seen/read about. I feel like episode 7 was just a perfect episode to capture Bonnie’s character and the downfall she has. Not to mention that it’s a fucking great episode and it will remain one of my favorites. Bonnie is a character who grew up with a lack of love and has seemingly detached herself from a lot of things and people. I say this because for the majority of the show, it seems as thought Bonnie is unfeeling and emotionless, but there are moments when her emotions just override and are visually expressed. In episode 7 when she confronts James and Alyssa, Alyssa asks Bonnie, “what happens next?” and it literally clicked in my head that Bonnie never really had a sense of purpose in the world until she met the professor. From there, her purpose was to be his “little salmon” but that ended up not happening and from there, her purpose is to get revenge for him by hunting down and killing James and Alyssa. From there, what does Bonnie do? There’s nothing left. The entire diner scene is just fantastic yet so heartbreaking. At the end of the episode, you just get Bonnie saying, “I’m really tired” and it hits so hard because of all that Bonnie went through.

Air:

Appa: Favorite fictional animal/pet // none

I actually have not read a lot of books with a fictional animal/pet that is super prominent in the story or that I have a big attachment to, so again, none.

Aang: Purest cinnamon roll // Aled Last from Radio Silence by Alice Oseman

Aled Last deserves the whole world and that’s a fact. He has such a pure soul and good intentions, and the fact that he goes through so much hurt in the book, hurts a lot. Aled is just a character you want to hug and protect. It’s so difficult to explain why Aled is a pure cinnamon roll because he just is and you just have to read the book to understand that this boy deserves nothing but love.

Avatar State: A stubborn character/a character that struggles with letting go // Elias Veturius from An Ember in the Ashes series by Sabaa Tahir

I love Elias Veturius with my whole heart and mind and soul, and you should too because he’s just a freaking amazing character. The journey he goes through in this series is so fucking painful because he constantly has to do things and become things that he doesn’t want to but he has to for the sake of keeping the ones he loves safe AND IT’S NOT FAIR THAT HE HAS TO GO THROUGH SO MUCH PAIN. We are always seeing Elias at war with himself and duty, and from this, he does make decisions that causes consequences but ultimately, he chooses duty, leaving the ones he loves behind in order to protect them. 

[reciprocityfic]

a slight return home, chapter 8

Title: A Slight Return Home Fandom: The Walking Dead Pairing: Rick x Michonne Rating: T Summary: Rick’s death shakes Michonne’s world to its core. With her daughter and her remaining family, she tries to navigate her changed life, and all the struggles and surprises that come with it.

Author’s Note: Hello there! Sorry it took me so long to get this update out - I've had writer's block hardcore for months. 

But I'm back, and hopefully I can get the next chapter out much more quickly.I mainly listened to Heavy in Your Arms by Florence + the Machine while I wrote this, and that's where the title comes from. I also listened to Older Chests by Damien Rice while writing the last section a little.

I hope you enjoy chapter eight!

read chapter one on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter two on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter three on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter four on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter five on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter six on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter seven on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter eight on archive of our own or ff.net

(my love’s so) heavy in your arms

She brings him home one week later, once Siddiq is convinced he doesn't have any pressing medical needs, and after he's gained some weight. She can tell Rick is restless and eager to leave, even though he has his doubts to what his life will be like from now on.

She tries to reassure him, to tell him they'll get through this like they get through everything, but she can sense his skepticism. And she can't deny the tingling of anxiety that stirs in her stomach when he's sleeping and she's watching him. When she's alone with her thoughts, when her mind drifts and she wonders what they did to him, where he is now. She knows that he's here, in front of her, but she wonders where his soul, his spirit, his heart - where her Rick - is. How deep he had to bury them in order to survive.

But she shoves those concerns down deep the moment his eyes flutter open, and puts all her energy into him. Into bringing him back to her. Into bringing him home.

Today, she takes another step. They do, together, both literally and metaphorically as they walk up the path to what used to be their house. She supposes it still is their house; his presence is permanently burned into every corner of the building, leaving an invisible trail of ashes and cinders in its wake. She did nothing to erase it while he was gone. Instead, she'd preserved it, like a precious piece of art in a museum.

She hears his steady shuffling behind her as they walk up the steps to the front door. She reaches out for the doorknob, but he clears his throat before she can turn it, and she pauses, looking back at him. His head is down, and he's twisting the toe of his boot into the cement.

"The ki-" he stops, and clears his throat once more. Then, he continues, his voice hesitant.

"The kids?"

"They're at Aaron's," she tells him. "I thought that would be best until we get you settled in."

He nods, and she doesn't miss the way his shoulders relax just so slightly after hearing this new information. Her heart breaks, for him and for her family.

She's about to turn back around, when suddenly a memory comes back to her. Like a movie, it plays in her head: a heavily-bearded Rick, nervous and grumpy and out-of-place, staring at the gates of an unknown community, hesitant to enter and start this new chapter of their lives.

She remembers sitting next to him in that car, looking over at him, picking up on the skepticism and uncertainty rolling off of him in waves. She'd wanted to comfort him. To let him know that whatever happened - good or bad - they were in it together.

So she'd covered her hand with his - a rare physical expression of affection between them, at the time - and asked him a simple question.

You ready?

She reaches out now, does the same thing a little differently this time. She takes his hand and wraps it in hers. He tries to pull away at first, but she doesn't let him, and after a moment she feels his fingers relax between hers.

He lifts his chin and looks up at her, and she smiles slightly.

"You ready?" she asks.

He stares at her blankly for a second before she sees the corner of his mouth tick up, and he shakes his head as something almost like a laugh leaves his mouth. He remembers, too, and it makes the smile on her face grow.

He nods, and quietly says, "Yeah."

She grins again. It's the same answer he gave all those years ago.

She turns back around, but doesn't let go of his hand. Instead, she uses her grip on him to pull him a few steps closer to her. Then she reaches for the doorknob, and welcomes him home.

***

She watches him as he makes his way around the house.

She keeps herself a handful of steps behind him, careful not to interfere with his reacquaintance to what will be his home, once again. What will be their home again, finally.

He doesn't say much as he walks and wanders. A mumble, here and there, like he's talking to himself. Nothing she can make out. He reaches out every so often, runs his hand over a wall, or brushes his fingertips along a countertop. As if to ground himself in something physical.

He hesitates at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, then starts up them slowly. She follows. The creak of the steps under their feet seems to boom in the otherwise silent house.

When they reach the top floor, he motions to Judith's room.

"Still Judy?"

"Yeah," she confirms, taking initiative and moving in front of him. "You want to see it?"

He nods, and she pushes the door open. He steps around her and into the center of the bedroom, placing his hands on his hips as he glances around.

"It's a lot less...pink than I remember it being."

She can't help the smile that breaks out on her face.

"Yeah, she kind of phased out of that," she tells him.

"Not a little girl anymore, huh?" he asks as he turns to her. She knows he's trying to joke, but she doesn't miss the apprehension in his eyes.

"Not as little," she clarifies, "but still little enough. Littler than she likes to think she is."

"How?" he asks immediately, eagerly.

Michonne wracks her brain, and smiles again when she decides on an answer.

"She loves horses. Lowkey freaks out whenever she's around one. She's always asking to feed them or take care of them, which I'm pretty sure is just an excuse for her to pet them. She's absolutely enamored with them. Just like every little girl ever, right?"

"Right," he answers quietly, and she can see the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

He lingers for a few moments before turning towards the doorway. She starts towards the next room after they exit, but he doesn't move from his spot. When she turns to check on him, he's staring past her, mesmerized by something across the hall. She follows his gaze, and her heart thumps heavier in her chest when she sees what has his attention.

Carl's old room.

"It's RJ's room now," she tells him, reaching out to gently touch his arm.

(He stiffens, but she barely notices anymore - she expects it, rather. But she's persistent, keeps touching him, swearing that she'll teach him the feel of loving touches again.)

After Carl had died, they hadn't touched anything in his bedroom. They couldn't bear to. Instead, they left everything as it was, almost as a shrine to their lost son. The world might've taken him from them, but they would protect the memory of him in any way they could. So they kept it, preserved it, in honor of Carl and their love for him.

They had only packed it up when they decided to switch houses, and when they were arranging their new home, they'd decided to place all of his things in the room across the hall from Judith's - just where Carl's room was in their first house. They'd even taken to calling it Carl's room again, making sure that all of them - especially Judith - knew that the boy was still an integral part of their family, even though he wasn't here anymore.

She hesitated, when she was pregnant and deciding on where to put RJ's crib, to finally move the boxes and bins full of Carl's things. But it brought her a kind of comfort, filling the room with new life, and she knew deep in her heart that Carl would approve completely.

So she'd moved it. And it had healed her bit by bit, watching her youngest son grow up where his older brother had been represented.

She hopes that it will bring Rick the same sense of healing and comfort.

But as she goes to lead him there, he doesn't follow. When she looks back at him, she can't read the expression on his face.

"Don't you want to see it?" she asks, her brow furrowing.

"Maybe - " Rick starts, taking a step back and dropping his gaze to the floor. He brings one of his hands up to his face and scratches across his forehead with his thumb. "Maybe I should meet him first."

His answer surprises her, wholly and genuinely, more than anything else he has said since she found him again. If there was one thing sure in her mind, it was that Rick would be more than impatient to see his children again. To meet his son. To know everything he could about RJ - every detail, no matter how minute or mundane.

But after his tears when she first told Rick of RJ's existence, and his trepidation now, dread begins to gather in the pit of her stomach. She buries it the best she can, and moves on.

Their room is the only one left. She starts towards it, and is relieved when she hears the groan of the floorboards behind her as he follows. She enters and goes to stand at the foot of the bed, before turning around and looking at him.

He still stands in the doorway, shifting back and forth on his feet but otherwise staying in place. She almost says something, almost reaches out her arm to beckon him inside, but she stops herself. They must do this at his pace.

So she waits for him. She waits for him, and she reminds herself that she will always wait for him, no matter the situation, and no matter how much it confuses her.

After a moment, Rick closes his eyes and takes three deep breaths. Then, he steps over the threshold.

They don't speak, just as they didn't when he first entered the house. She simply observes as he walks around the room, inspecting windows and walls and nightstands.

It's when he opens the door to the closet that she hears his voice for the first time since he came into the bedroom.

"All my stuff is still here," he mumbles.

She guesses that he's only talking to himself again, so she doesn't respond. But then he turns to her, his head tilted to the side as he peers at her curiously.

"All my stuff is still here," he repeats, and she can tell he's surprised by the fact.

"It is," she answers, and she reaches over idly to the dresser, pulling open the second drawer from the top and reaching in to run her fingers over his socks.

"Why is it still here?" he asks, so entirely surprised that she almost cries.

"It's yours," she tells him plainly, because the answers she's about to give are obvious, at least in her eyes. "I didn't want it to belong to anyone else. And I missed you. I didn't want to lose you. Especially in here."

It's the same reason they left Carl's room untouched for such a long time, she wants to tell him. But she doesn't want to bring up the odd moment in the hall again, so instead she takes a step towards him, and brings her hand up to touch him, placing her fingers on the front of his shirt and playing with the buttons there.

"I just...I missed you."

She can feel the telltale pressure of tears behind her eyes, and she tries to steady herself, tries to swallow them down.

"I missed you so much," she says, her voice breaking.

And despite her efforts, a tear falls from the corner of her eye and down her cheek. She goes to pull away from him - she doesn't want to confound his feelings by burdening him with her own - but before she can, he grabs onto the hand resting on the front of his shirt.

A shock runs through her. It's one of only a handful of times he's initiated touch with her since she's got him back. She turns to him once more, her eyes wide and shining, still full of unshed tears. He brings his hand up to cup her cheek, and his thumb rubs at the moisture staining her skin.

"I missed you," he murmurs, and he takes a step closer to her as he stares down at her like she's the only thing in the universe that exists in this moment.

She wants to kiss him.

She wants to lean up and kiss him, to lose herself in the movements of his lips and tongue, to lace her fingers through his curly hair, to feel every plane of his body pressed against hers for the first time in almost seven years. She's afraid, though - afraid that she'll startle him, that he'll pull away, that he'll not want her as much as she wants him.

But then, she sees his blue eyes dart towards her lips for the tiniest second, and she lets it decide her.

She closes her eyes and nearly throws herself at him in her eagerness, but her lips don't get the chance to even brush against his before he steps back. Her eyes pop open with a start, but she can't halt her momentum in time, and stumbles into him, knocking him back against the wall beside the closet.

She jumps back as soon as she can gather herself. They stare at each other, Rick's back still against the wall, his hands at his sides and palms turned up in a helpless gesture.

She brings her hand up to cover her mouth, and she can feel her skin heat up and eyes begin to sting with more tears. She doesn't think she's ever been more mortified.

She doesn't think she's ever been this scared.

"Michonne," Rick breathes.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, and then rushes into the bathroom and locks the door behind her.

She can't hold back her tears once she's alone, and they run down her face in torrents as she leans against the sink. She turns on the water quickly to try and drown out the sound of her sobs. Then, she lifts her head, and looks into the mirror.

She lets out a short, barking laugh through her cries as she stares at her reflection. She looks decidedly miserable - eyes red and puffy with bags underneath them, hair mussed, skin glistening with tears, clothes disheveled. She laughs once more, then sobs again, and slowly lowers herself onto the floor. Once seated, she pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her forehead on them.

A knock at the door makes her jump. She looks towards it, but makes no move to answer.

"Michonne?"

His voice is muffled by the door and by the sound of the water still rushing from the spout in the sink, but she hears it still.

"'Chonne, I'm sorry."

His words only make more of her tears fall, and she turns back into herself, resting her head on her knees again.

"I'm sorry," she hears. He sounds defeated.

And she's so scared.

***

Coming home is hard.

It's emotional and physical labor, and it takes its toll on her. She doesn't eat enough, she goes to bed exhausted and wakes up even more tired. She cries most days, in hidden corners where no one will see or notice her.

After the incident in their bedroom, he retreats inside himself. He stops telling her anything about his time away from her; he stops talking to her at all, save for necessary sentences and tiny asides here and there. He sleeps on the couch, rather than in their bed. He stops touching her at all. He stops being him to the point that it feels like he's gone again, even though he's right there beside her.

It saddens her endlessly. It frustrates her. And she feels like it's all her fault, because she was the idiot who couldn't control herself or her emotions, who had to try to kiss him and then proceeded to have a breakdown in front of him, to the point that he had to threaten to go get Judith to coax her out of hiding.

But above all, it scares her. It scares her into thinking that she'll never be able to find him - to bring him out of all the hurt and pain that's been heaped upon him. She's afraid he's not him anymore, that the Rick she loves died years ago at the community where he was held hostage, in some dark, dank room like the one in which she found him.

She's afraid, and she's never felt more alone. Before she knows it, she's retreated inside herself as well. She stops trying to pull him out. She quits asking prying questions to try and get him to speak, she doesn't reach for him anymore. She lets him be, and the two of them dance around each other like complete strangers forced to live in the same house.

They try to act normally around the kids. He tries, and she gives him credit for that, because she can see how hard it is for him. Especially when RJ shirks away from Rick the first time the two meet, looking up at his mother with nervous eyes as he's confronted with the strange man in front of him. Even after she and Judith explain that this is his dad - the brave man they told him about in all of their stories - RJ is still suspicious, and clings to Michonne's leg when Rick reaches out. Judith does better, hugging him without hesitation and welcoming him back into their little family unit, but Michonne can see the apprehension in her eyes when she takes in his frailness, his bruises and scars, his skittishness.

They try to act normally, but neither Rick nor Michonne can succeed entirely. RJ is young enough that he's mostly oblivious to anything other than his uneasiness around this new person, but it has no chance of getting past Judith. Her daughter asks her as much one afternoon when they're out practicing with their katanas, questions why her mother and father are acting so "weird" around each other.

"He's home now. Shouldn't you guys be happy?" she asks innocently.

Michonne smiles sadly at the girl, a deep, shaky breath leaving her lungs as she forces herself not to cry.

"Sometimes, things aren't quite that simple."

She wishes they were. God, she wishes they were.

But they're not. They're not simple, and they're not easy.

It's hard. Coming home is hard.

It isn't what everyone makes it out to be. All happy and smiley. Frantic kisses that taste like happy tears, embraces that still have the shape of the other's body memorized. Parties and parades. Sweetness and sex and safety. Reunions and romance. Joy. So much joy.

Coming home is hard.

It's not knowing what to say to the person she used to tell everything to. It's hearing him lock himself in the downstairs bathroom every night after the kids go to bed like clockwork and cry for hours on end, and not making any move to comfort him because she doesn't know if that would make it worse or if he even wants her to. It's looking into his eyes - eyes she used to know so well - and finding them dull and bloodshot and empty. It's looking at the man who was the other half of her soul and wondering if she knows him anymore. It's the fear that she'll never know him again.

Coming home is hard. And time passes, with nothing.

A/N: Sorry for all the angst :/  I hope you liked it anyways.

Like I said, I hope to be out with the next update much sooner than I was with this one.

xoxo, Rebekah