#i don’t have to do that until or just after induction but i’m so bored and anxious that i’ve done two out of the six courses already

[steddiejudas]

Loop 17

tags: angst, referenced drug use, violence

Continuation of this post:

“You know this isn’t the first time we’ve hung out?”

“No?” Chrissy always asks, a little hopeful that Eddie will tell her he knows her. He’s known her for 16 loops, and this one, number 17 is going to be different.

“You don’t remember?” Exactly what he said the first time, exactly what he says every time that breaks her heart a little more in each loop. Chrissy has never been that lucky, so she doesn’t know why it would start now, when she and this doofus she’s growing to love keep dying.

It’s all trial and error at this point. She knows if she buys Eddie’s weed and leaves, Vecna will get her later this evening and that will be the end of the loop. If she stays here and smokes with Eddie, there’s a chance they’ll sit here and talk all night. She’ll still die, but at least Eddie won’t be the prime suspect in her murder, although she’s not sure it really matters — what happens to the world when the loop resets is unknown to her. Maybe there are 16 alternate timelines, or maybe they cease to exist. It hurts her brain, sends her spiraling to consider the possibilities.

This loop she decides to go for the ket again. So far it’s the only way she’s managed to stay alive. The loops tend to blend together so it’s hazy, but she thinks after the first one Eddie plays music when they get back to his trailer. She doesn’t know why, but the heavy drumbeat in Eddie’s music of choice is grounding. She kind of likes it.

Her survival doesn’t stop the killings, and no matter what, Jason is always small minded and obsessed with hunting Eddie down, convinced he’s inducted Chrissy into his ‘cult’. There have been a couple loops where seeing them together drives Jason to kill Eddie. With each loop, she loves him a little less, hates him a little more.

So when Chrissy sees Jason at the gun counter of the Warzone, threatening Nancy Wheeler, she snaps. She marches up to him with purpose, placing her tiny hand on the barrel of the shotgun, between where the two of them play keepaway, and tugs. Chrissy is a cheerleader, a flier, she’s much stronger than she looks, despite her petite frame. The gun falls from both of their hands into hers.

“Jason. Outside. Now.” She grits through bared teeth. She relishes in the way he ducks his head and cowers slightly, taking the opportunity to grab him by the scruff of the neck and lead him out of the emergency exit to the back alley. Without a second thought, she’s aiming the gun at him.

Jason throws his arms up in surrender. “Woah, Chris — Chrissy, hold on. I’m sorry, please, just put the gun down.”

“You’re sorry? That’s the best you can come up with? You’ve taken everything from me over and over again and all you have to say is ‘I’m sorry’?”

“W-what are you talking about? I didn’t- I haven’t done anything.”

“You haven’t? Then what do you call the mob we’ve had to hide Eddie from loop after loop? What do you call the times that you’ve KILLED HIM right in front of me? What do you call that in there with Nancy? Just letting off some steam? Boys being boys? Well let me tell you something Carver: I’m getting really sick and tired of you and your boys.” She pumps the shotgun for emphasis. Jason takes a step back, his strategy of redirection completely failing him as he stares down the barrel, meeting Chrissy’s piercing blue eyes through the iron sights.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jason shouts.

“You never do.” Chrissy says, her tone almost bored as she pulls the trigger, firing a round of buckshot into his chest.

It should be terrifying, traumatizing. Chrissy should scream and feel regret for what she’s just done, but the sight of his blood leaking from his chest into a pool on the asphalt makes her think of the first time she saw Eddie the same way. She feels nothing.

Until the door swings open and Nancy is standing there. Her face is calm like she’s seen worse on any given Tuesday. She reaches for the gun and calmly says: “Everyone heard that shot. We gotta go.”

Chrissy nods, letting Nancy ease her grip on the barrel of the shotgun and take her hand, sprinting back to the RV. The rest of the Party is already there, and Steve steps on the gas as soon as the door is shut. They lurch with the force of the acceleration and Chrissy falls into Nancy’s arms. She realizes she’s panting, the adrenaline finally catching up to her and maybe it’s making her a little crazy because she thinks Nancy is beautiful like this. Calm and powerful, tightly gripping Chrissy’s waist to hold her steady.

Chrissy can’t help herself, leaning her head up to catch Nancy’s lips in a searing kiss. Nancy holds on tighter, kisses back stronger and they melt into each other. When they pull away Chrissy is for once thankful for the prospect of the time loop as 6 pairs of eyes, wide as dinner plates stare at the two of them. Thank god they won’t remember this.

[fingertipsmp3]

Gotta love how staff induction is in a week or less and I still haven’t heard if I’m supposed to be there or not 🙃

[rbbrbikerthorp]

Family Reunion (Part 10)

My mind was reeling from what had happened in the last couple of days. My younger brother came to visit; telling me how he’d been inducted into a crew of skinheads. My brother tied me to a chair, his ‘mates’ invaded my house, shaved my head, and have forced me to smoke. They have just shown me my new clobber. They’re going to force me to wear an outfit that makes me look like some rubber gimp freak-show. Now someone else is at the door and my brother has mentioned the word ‘ink’. I’m pretty sure I know what that means. I began struggling against the ropes, but my efforts continued to be futile.

My thoughts were interrupted by Stevo talking in the hallway and returning accompanied into the room where my predicament was about to get worse. 

“Ah Kev’s here”, my brother looked happy, as if a long-lost friend had returned. 

Kev was what I can only describe as a ‘big fella’, and his head sported an array of artwork.

He was carrying what I can only describe as a doctor’s case - you know the ones you remember as a child - when they actually did home visits if your were ill. Anyway, he removed his coat to reveal he as wearing a polo shirt made of rubber, his arms were covered with so much body art that there was almost no pink flesh left to see. 

Stevo lit up a cigarette and began smoking whilst watching Kev open the case and start removing some of the contents.

“Give us a cig Stevo.’ my brother broke the silence, even thought I couldn’t turn away from staring at this huge, tattooed brute of a man, I listened intently. “So you see, Kev’s here to make it so you can’t return to your boring life”. I looked over to my brother, he smiled and then inhaled on his cigarette, blowing the smoke in my direction, he continued “I don’t want this to be painful broth, it’d be better if you just accepted your fate. But seeing you struggle I think you need a little more ‘medicine’. 

My attention was so focussed on what my brother was telling me and what Kev and Stevo were up to that I hadn’t noticed Chopper had come downstairs and was now laying on my sofa. It was the first time I’d actually got a good look my brother’s boyfriend. I was staring at his body, I thought he was kind of sexy (wait no, did I really just think that?) He spoke up, interrupting my thoughts, “Kev when are you starting work on my lad’s sleeve? You know he’s itching to get more ink and Nick won’t be happy until he’s got more tatts”.

“Don’t worry”, Kev replied, “the priority is to do his elder brother today. I’ve booked time on Wednesday for you and your boyfriend, just get to my place for 10. Now, Nick’s told me what he wants, so seeing you’re all here, let’s get started.

I couldn’t believe it, the whole crew was going to be spectators in my transformation to an inked rubber skinhead. I was still struggling against my bonds, but I don’t know why. It was pointless, there was no escape. 

Kev noticed my resistance, “Right lad I’m going to need you to calm down, Dunc, do you want to get another of those drinks for your new crew member? The lad here is going to need it”.

Dunc returned with another cup filled with the strange-tasting liquid.

Kev smiled and held the cup to my lips, “your brother was reluctant at first. Nick saw his potential, but we had to give him a nudge or two to make sure he fitted into the crew”. Turning his head to look at my brother, Kev continued, “now look at him, he’s a proper skinhead, with a great boyfriend in Chopper”. Turning back to me, “...just like you will be with your new boyfriend Stevo, when we’re done with you. Ok, we begin”.    

It seemed as though I had no say in the choice of tattoo or placement. Kev had finished putting on some black gloves “Turn your arm over”, I complied. I watched Kev intently, I was strangely calm after drinking more of that liquid. Kev used some rubbing alcohol on my forearm he then used some other liquid to moisten up the skin. After this, he placed a stencil onto the skin where the tattoo would be completed. Once the transfer was done, Kev carefully lifted the stencil paper, and there on my skin was the outline of the first tattoo.

“Are you happy for me to get started”, Kev asked. Oh, why am I asking of course you are”, and with that he began.

Kev tattooed the first line. It is fair to say that those first few seconds after Kev had started were the worst. Just getting used to the discomfort. Strangely enough, after a short while, I got accustomed to the feeling. Kev completed all the line-work of the tattoo and then started on the shading and colouring. I watched Kev switch between different needles and also use a second machine. He said it was to ensure the shading and coloring was ‘done to perfection’. After what seemed like hours, Kev stopped. “Take a good look”, he said. I looked down. 

On my forearm was my very first ink, and it looked amazing. Kev applied a hot towel to calm down the tattooed skin. Then he told me he was applying some protective ointment. He finished up using wrapping tape and a bandage over the new tattoo.

He turned to the room and said “First one done, let’s have a ciggy break”. Kev put two cigarettes in his mouth and lit them both. Then he took one of them and placed it between by lips. I sucked in the smoke, long and steady like Stevo told me. I held it there for a moment and then I inhaled. I repeated it a few times. I caught Stevo’s eye. He smiled like a proud dad does when his kid has scored the winning goal. It wasn’t long before I’d smoked the whole cigarette. 

“Right, let’s get back to it”, Kev said. I wondered where the next tattoo was going to be placed. Kev started on a different side of my body, working on my upper arm. The same process was repeated and before long I had my second tattoo.

And so it went on, two more tattoos were added. The one on my back took many hours to finish, but looked amazing (did I really just say that).

All the while I was getting inked, I’d reassured myself that it wasn’t a problem because all the tattoos could be hidden under my clothes. Then Kev made sure there was no way to hide what I was becoming. My knuckles were tattooed.

I’d drifted off again thinking about what they’d done to me, when Kev interrupted my thoughts. “Right that’s what Nick wanted doing today. what do you think Stevo”?

Stevo walked over to me and looked at Kev’s handiwork. “You look great lad. You’re one of us now and there’s no way to hide it”. He turned back to Kev, “great work as ever.” Then Stevo put his arms around Kev’s should and talked in a low voice. I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Kev raised his voice, “Yes, I got the kit with me, but Nick didn’t mention doing any metal today”. Stevo turned to me and turned back to Kev, “Just do it, he’ll look great and it will make what we have planned for tomorrow a lot easier for him”.

I had no idea what they were talking about, but I knew I wasn’t going to like it. 

Stevo walked up to me, he leaned in to kiss me on my lips. His smoky breath caught me by surprise. My cock was already partly stiff but suddenly sprang to life “I’m so proud of you with your new ink. There’s one more thing and I want you to want this mate”.

With that Kev came back over with some needles and rings. “Right let’s do this. Stevo wants to start you with your first piercing. This one will be in your septum. It’s gonna be a little painful, but you can cope. Kev game me a running commentary, “First, we will mark the sweet spot - that’s the membrane between cartilage and nose. Right that’s done. Now I’m going to use these forceps to hold the cartilage in place. Are you ready for this”? I yelped out at the point when the needle was inserted, but that was it. In no time a ring was threaded through the piercing and secured. Kev smiled, “It’s done”. 

I’d been inked and had my septum pierced, but I was surprisingly content.   “You look so hot m8″ Stevo said to me, then pointing at the rubber laid out earlier, “I can wait to get you in your new gear”. Strangely enough, I was curious to know what it would feel like to wear.

(Final part to follow)

[imagineanime2022]

Do What You Can

Ryunosuke Tanaka X Reader

Word Count: 648

Requested: @goingonthebit 

Request: Requesting supportive/protective Tanaka? 🥺🥲

A/N: This sort of self indulgent so it’s centred around apprenticeship studying but it doesn’t mention anything particular so it could be any subject of study.

You had been waiting for this opportunity since you left college, you had been the one to move with Tanaka because no matter where you went there was the option to study what you wanted to. It was scary moving to the city away from all your friends and family. It was only a couple of years before Kyoko moved out to where you were and you had a friend that you, it still took you over 6 years to finally get to where you wanted to be and now you were sitting in the living room after coming home from the induction for your apprenticeship.

You were sitting on the sofa, you dragging the coffee table over so that you could place all the documents out, looking over college dates and work schedules. You had so little time for yourself, let alone to spend time with Tanaka and you felt bad because just the idea of the amount of work that you had to do was overwhelming you, let alone when you had deadlines and work hours to compete with.

You were so immersed in trying to make everything work that you didn’t hear the door open and close “(Y/N)!” He called as he walked into the living room smiling as he saw you leaning over all the paperwork. “How’d it go?” “It’s good, it’s good.” You answered and he looked at you and frowned as he took a seat next to you. “It doesn’t sound good.” He frowned as he leaned over pulling you into a hug. “No it’s fine, it’s just a lot of work.” You answered as he glanced over at the calendar that you were filling out and sighed, his attention drawn back to you as you seemed to burrow further into him. “You okay?” He asked. “I just know that I’m going to miss this, when everything finally starts.” You answered as you looked up at him, he moved you both until he was laying across the sofa with you sitting on his lap. “I’m going to be here the whole time, you can come to me whenever you need to, you know I’m always going to want your love.” He promised as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m not even going to have the time for that.” You mumbled leaning over to grab the scheme of work “lessons don’t finish until 6pm.” “I’ll wait for you.” He promised. “I can’t expect you to wait for that long.” You dismissed him and he frowned. “What time did I get home today lovely?” He asked. “Umm 5:30pm.” You answered. “See I’ll have to entertain myself for 30 minutes when you're in class.” He squeezed your waist, getting you to look at him “then once you're done we can cook together and eat, we’ll still have time together.” “I guess.” You mumbled. “You remember when we were in school and I used to just sit and listen to you talking about the stuff you needed for lessons?” He asked. “Yeah I still think you were bored and you never told me.” You mumbled and he shook his head. “You know you’re the reason my grades went up.” He answered softly. “Don’t you worry baby we’ll be just fine, I just want you to focus on this.” “But what if I don’t pass?” You asked. “Don’t pass?” He asked. “Impossible.” “Ryu, it's very possible.” You argued. “No it’s not, I know that you're going to do your best so if they fail you I’m going to march down there and demand that they tell me why.” He threatened. “Please don’t do that.” You mumbled. “No promises.” He answered “have you eaten?” “Not since lunch.” You mumbled, your eyes were closed after all that worrying you were starting to feel tired. “You nap, I’ll sort it out.” He promised, picking up his phone to scroll through and see what restaurants were open. “You nap until it gets here.” “Love you Ryu.” You said softly. “Love you too.” He answered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Request Here

[myonepiece]

Natural Yanderes in One Piece

description: characters who are yandere without an au!

warnings: yandere, mentions of mental/emotional & physical abuse, mentions of sexual assault

a/n: I wanted to write down my thoughts on the natural yanderes in One Piece. this is probably a pt. 1 because I have a lot of thoughts about other characters too :3

I did some research to find out the “actual” names for the different types of yandere, but most of the characters are similar to multiple types so I just put down the definition/example of the type(s)

disclaimer: I didn’t sugar coat anything so just stay with me- and you might not agree but I’m just trying to explain my thoughts

- when I say darling I am referring to crush or S/O 

Doflamingo

yandere rating: 10/10

obsession, violent, removal (”you don’t need anyone else”), training (trains S/O to love him)

Doflamingo is the whole yandere package- mental & physical abuse and manipulation, stalking, obsession and infatuation, kidnapping, locking away, gaslighting, torture, possessiveness, aggression and violence, toxicity.

Doflamingo’s obsession with his darling rivals Hannibal Lecter’s obsession with eating his victims. I often like to compare Doflamingo to Hannibal Lecter, with his manners, intelligence, and sophisticated taste, and niether hold remorse for their victims- now back to the topic.

Doflamingo can be as stealthy and unnoticed as he wants to be. when he sees someone who specially catches his attention (a future S/O per say), he likes to observe them first and understand them and their thinking, especially if this person is a future lover because he’s already planning what fun he can have playing with their mind, what gets under their skin and gets a reaction.

Doflamingo knows that his actions aren’t “normal” or healthy, or safe, but he doesn’t care. he developes a fetish-like infatuation with his S/O and simply has to have them, no way of getting them is off the table. abuse is an occurrence that happens naturally, rather it be because Doflamingo is angry, at his S/O or at one of his subordinates, it doesn’t matter- because his darling disobeyed him, because he is trying to prove a point, because he wishes to see his partner in pain, or simply because he is bored and torturing his lover is much more enjoyable than torturing his enemies/subordinates.

Doflamingo enjoys a chase and he fancies playing mind games with his S/O, seeing them so distraught and unnerved and fearful is one of his greatest joys, possibly even pleasurable. he likes to make them think they have a chance at escaping, luring them into attempting (and failing) so that he can coo at them and punish them, making them think he’s mad when he’s not, making them think he’s happy when he’s not- their confused expression is remarkably adorable and endearing.

unlike some yanderes, Doflamingo doesn’t try to make his S/O think the world outside is crueler than him, that they’re safer in his arms- while he does tell them they are protected by him, he tells them that he is more dangerous than the outside world, so that they’ll be too scared to leave his side, because he is too powerful to escape.

it slightly hurts me to say this and it might be hard for some to think about, but Doflamingo is not against forcing himself on his S/O- they are merely a tool and a toy for him to use and play with and ruin until it breaks- this symbolizing their will to escape or resist, diminishing and ultimately breaking as a toy would

Sanji

yandere rating: 3/10

harmless (as long as they are happy I’m happy”), stalker, obsession (harmless obsession), wrong idea (”they gave me their eraser... they must love me!”), mild possession

we all know that Sanji has an “obsession” with beautiful women, and when he finds one he especially likes, then it becomes a little more. now Sanji would never ever hurt his S/O, never, I want that to be clear- that’s why he is a harmless type. 

Sanji often watches from afar, and it’s not unusal for him to follow his crush/darling around. he’ll usually ask if he can tag along but if they say no he’ll just linger behind and out of sight, mostly to make sure they’re safe but also so he can observe them. he can be... delusional, take things as what they aren’t (wrong idea type)- if his darling compliments him, even just “good to see you Sanji-kun” he’ll interpret it as they missed him dearly and are so happy to see him again. his head is stuck in the clouds and he’s completely lovesick with a fever of 200°.

for a comparison, his actions before getting together would very similar to those of Anthony Hope’s towards Johanna- Sweeney Todd. Anthony is seen standing by the front of the house watching Johanna while she sits in her window, the song he sings about her “Johanna” (I suggest listening to it) contains lyrics such as “I’ll steal you Johanna... even now I’m at your window... buried sweetly in your yellow hair...” Anthony wants to take Johanna because he is obsessed with her but she is also in danger because she did not choose to live there, she is being “looked after”. 

Sanji’s actions always corroborate to what’s best for his S/O, he only wishes to take care of them and spoil them. he is definitely not the most possessive, but he doesn’t like his darling showing much attention to anyone else, in moments they do, Sanji always becomes clingy and pulls them away.

he’s bordering loneliness induction (”it’s okay I’m here, you don’t need anyone else”) and removal type (you don’t need anyone else when you have me”)

I can not stress this enough, Sanji is a HARMLESS yandere, it’s only the possession and infatuation that gives him the title 

Buggy

yandere rating: 6/10

worship (”I’ll do anything for you, I’ll kill for you!”), dependence (”please don’t leave me!”), monopoly (”who were you talking to”), obsession (”where were you? what were you doing?”), wrong idea (”they gave me their eraser... they must love me!”)

Buggy is a very emotional person, shown multiple times like when he cried when reuniting with his crew and when they told him they waited for him, when he is faced with danger, when he got angry at Shanks because of something that happened many years ago, etc. he craves an actual emotional bond because he’s quite a dependent person. if someone shows him the slightest comfort and attention or sign that they’ll be there for him, he’s in love- but only with that person, the second he falls in love with them they’re the only one for him.

for comparison, Buggy’s relationship dynamic is similar to Peter Pan and Tinker Bell’s (though they aren’t really in a relationship, but you understand hopefully), that is Buggy as Tinker Bell and his S/O as Peter Pan. Tinker Bell is quite obsessed with Pan herself, often trying to get him away from Wendy and going to extreme lengths to do so, she get’s angry and jealous easily, and she is more than ready to fight to defend Peter. Tinker would follow Peter to the end of the world and Buggy would do the same with his S/O.

Buggy craves affection and stability and trust, a ride-or-die, a one and only, a true soulmate. when he finds someone like that, he becomes possessive and obsessed with them, constantly asking to accompany them somewhere or making on of his crew do it- he has trust issues and one of his greatest fears is his S/O cheating on him, loyalty is very important to him. he needs constant reassurance even though he won’t say it out loud. he wants his S/O to depend on him as much as he depends on them so they’ll only need each other (bordering removal type).

Buggy won’t hurt his S/O unless it’s in a moment of overwhelming emotions, anger most often- in those moments he can do anything. he would close his hand around hs S/O’s throat and tell them not to leave, to stay with him, but he’s crying the whole time because the mere thought of his S/O leaving is terrifying, Buggy is afraid of being alone. he’ll slap or shove harshly, insults and praises alike, pleading and threatening. he tends to forget his strength and  sometimes his grip on his S/O’s throat ends up making them pass out then he freaks out and regrets everything, he feels extremely guilty after hurting them and he tries to show he’s sorry with his actions- it’s kind of ironic because even when he causes them though most pain and that’s one thing he never wants you to go through (pain) he always asks you to stay.

because of his fear of being alone he is willing to do anything for you, if you ask him to kill someone or at least step up and battle with another crew, he will. if not being a coward, or at least pretending not to be, for one moment is what it takes for you to stay then consider his cowardness gone, *poof*. ask for anything and this man will give it to you, similar to buying your love and sometimes he realizes that practically what it is- but he doesn’t care, as long as you stay. god forbid anyone try to take you away though, he won’t hold back on someone who. tries to take away his darling, tries to tell them Buggy is dangerous and the relationship isn’t healthy- frankly Buggy doesn’t really notice if it’s healthy or not because he’s not experienced at all, he doesn’t realize his actions aren’t normal, he thinks he’s just in love with you and can’t be without you, he doesn’t even consider it’s an unhealthy infatuation with someone because they showed interest in him once.

[writingindulgence]

Illumi x F.Reader - Expectation

Pairing: Illumi x Female Reader

Story tags: Arranged marriage, typical Zoldyck behaviour, angst-ish, heavy manipulation, ILLUMI, unhealthy one-sided dependence : ) my guy just toxic

3,200+ words and why? I don’t even like the dude. Also, two points of view.

The sound of fancy porcelain tea cups clinking against the glass table is soothing, along with the warm rays shining on your face. Times like these are what you are thankful for. The smell of purposely picked flowers, arranged to please the eyes. Not the stench of trash dumped for the sole convenience of other countries. Colourful butterflies and bees, instead of flies and disease ridden rats. A home cooked meal ready for your consumption rather than scraps of rotting food that you more often than not nearly died for.

Kukuroo mountain is infinitely more beautiful compared to Meteor City.

“(Y/n) dear, it’s unbecoming of you to make noise with your tableware,” a powerful feminine voice chastates your mistake. The woman sitting opposite you is none other than Kikyo Zoldyck. Or as she forces you to call her, mother.

Your heart flutters in relief, an apologetic expression weaving onto your face. She must be in an agreeable mood since her fan hasn’t struck your hand. Sometimes you are let off with a warning if she spots a blunder on your part. Sometimes, she resorts to physical punishment. It always depends on whether or not a family member said anything to ruin her day. In fact, any matter concerning Killua will set her off in a positive or negative direction.

Just like Illumi whenever you bring up his younger brother.

“I apologise mother, I’m too excited because Illumi is returning,” you proceed to take a sip and this time around, gently settle the tea cup down.

A content hum comes from her direction, her visor flashing for a split second. “Oh (Y/n), you’ll make such a good wife one day.” She picks up a fork gracefully and stabs it into the cake she asked for from the family cook.

The compliment ignites a multitude of feelings in your chest. It spreads out, only one thought in your mind.

How immensely grateful and happy you are to hear it.

Many of your friends from when you were young, starved to death. Some were beaten up by other desperate residents. Others lost their will to fight, a state you threaded on a magnitude of times.

Being taken away by the mafia one day was what gave you back the spark, a life in the city no more out of your reach. Until you figured out what type of work they wanted to sell you and other kids for. Stories from the older girls back in Meteor City came rushing back.

Your bloodlust and instinct to survive are what happened to change your life for the better. Out of all the line-up of children, you were selected by the Zoldycks. Instead of being the pet of some old pervert, you found a home within the assassin family.

There were many times when you felt like giving up. When the training you went through was worse than simply dying. However, you promised yourself to never throw away the chance you received all those years back.

You were indebted to the Zoldycks.

Hearing words of encouragement from one of the people you looked up to the most brought tears to your eyes. You wiped them away with your thumb.

Mother is a role model to you. It helped when you found out that she originates from Meteor City too. In a sense, it is easier to place yourself in her shoes and strive to achieve what she did. Being an amazing assassin, wife and mother.

A sudden scraping of a chair brought you back to the presence, startling you into a defensive pose. The knife under your sundress clasped in your hand.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Kalluto coming out from behind the bushes, his paper fan also ready for action.

“My Kil, what is he doing?! Quick, we have to stop him. Kalluto go call for Milluki right now!,” she orders shrilly before running into the mansion.

Without hesitation, you rush after her. It is expected of you. A nagging feeling in the back of your head also foreshadows that whatever is going on, it will have dire consequences if not stopped.

Killua is in the foyer, being kept idle by the servants. But not for long. You can see the irritation growing on his face, his muscles tensed.

You’ve known Killua since he was a baby, having been inducted as a future family member when mother was pregnant with him. There’s no doubt that if something wasn’t done, it would lead to a messy aftermath.

A few seconds after you make it inside, Milluki shows up and the servants are all dismissed.

“Kil, my little Kil, what’s wrong? Why did I hear that you’re leaving to take the Hunter’s Exam?,” mother’s voice is aghast, the idea of her favourite child abandoning the nest filling her with pain.

You too are taken aback at the news, a protective sensation coursing through you. Your fingers flex at your side.

“It’s boring here and I heard that the Exam is difficult so I’m going to test my skill,” he shrugs her worry off and spins his skateboard. Your heart begins to pound uncontrollably.

Hearing the disrespect, Milluki steps up and lashes out at Killua. “You brat, what’s with that arrogant attitude you-,”

“Stop that!,” mother’s voice sharply cuts him down.

She begins pleading with Killua to stay, her voice cracking multiple times. It pains you to watch someone you respect growing so desperate.

Killua is too young to understand what he’s putting the ones around him through. Of course, a rebellious phase is healthy-

A prickly discomfort surges through your head and you clutch it. Your unexpected movement grabs everyone’s attention. You try to brush it off, not wishing to be a burden.

It isn’t expected of you to be one.

“Killua, you should stay here. The world is a dangerous place,” your words try to reach him. “Illumi is coming home today,  why don’t we-”,

“I don’t want him around! Just leave me alone,” he angrily interrupts. The air grows heavy. Heavier than it’s been since the beginning.

Mother gasps in shock at his behaviour since Killua never really yells at you. Yes, he gets annoyed as much as any other kid but when he shouts, he doesn’t really mean it.

It’s expected of you to coerce him into calming down.

“You’ve changed during the past few weeks (Y/n), after Illumi came back before leaving again. Anyway, I will kill you all if you try to stop me,” Killua promises in a cold voice, his blue eyes a piercing ice.

This rouses an onslaught of insults from Milluki and a mix of agony and happiness from mother.

However, you’re currently stuck in your own mind, reflecting on Killua’s comment. It is true that during the past three weeks you doted on him more than ever before. Usually you try to split your attention between him and Kalluto when you have free time. What changed?

Nothing should have changed, Killua is the priority of the family.

A high-pitched scream echoes around the foyer and your clouded head awakens. The sight in front of you freezes your blood and it takes immense strength not to bite your tongue.

Mother is kneeling down on the ground, her hands covering her bloody face. Before you can take a step, Milluki rages and charges at Killua. The young boy bounces back and proceeds to plunge the knife into his older brother. Milluki curses and grabs his wound.

On impulse, your hand is already equipped with a knife and you’re ready to protect yourself as well as mother Killua.

Killua mistakes your movements as an attack and strikes his own knife across your arm. A long gash appears on your skin, the blood seeping out moments later. You take in the pain as punishment. Punishment for letting it get this far and failing.

You’re a failure.Failure.Failure.Failure.Failure.Failure.Failure.Failure.Failure.

Taking the chance to escape, he kicks his skateboard up and runs out.

And you were helpless to stop him.

*

It’s been a while since Illumi has been back home on Kukuroo mountain, his previous mission requiring him to travel across multiple locations. The target was a cautious person so they moved from place to place, leaving lousy decoys. That did not impede Illumi at all, it was simply an inconvenience at worst.

After all, nervous-wrecks are the ones who put their emotions out on display. They are the first to slip up due to the fact that they care about others.

Which is concerning because Killua is at a stage where he is showing his rebellious streak more often. It is crucial that he can snuff it out before his dear brother falls further down the slope of idiotic fantasies . In which case, it is a slight relief that (Y/n) is here. She tries to keep Killua in check in a subtle way instead of hanging over his shoulder or perpetuating his moody behaviour.

Though the last time he visited there were hints of her growing soft and losing her devotion of raising Killua to be the next head of the family. He is ashamed to confess that it irked him to some degree. It’s expected of her to put her desires down for what he wants. And he wants Killua to be the next head.

Even so, he thought that he dealt with this the last time.

However, imagine the surprise he felt when his mother came wailing to him, begging him to follow her little Kil to the Hunter’s Exam. To think that instead of a joyful family reunion, the news of his stray younger brother reached his ears before anything else.

That won’t do.

Currently, it’s close to midnight which is the time (Y/n) comes to his room to say goodnight. Why she even bothers is beyond him. The effort of keeping up with formalities could be used for better activities. It’s already indisputable that they are arranged to marry in the future at the request of his parents, so there is no reason to be close together in any romantic sense.

In fact, Killua will succeed as the head which is why there is no point in thinking about his own future.

A sigh leaves his mouth.

There is only one positive outcome that came out of this whole arrangement. He has an extra set of eyes and he’s sure that she will listen to him without question. All he has to do is play into these formalities and she’s wrapped around his finger.

An affectionate hug here, a tiny smile there...Normally he’d be concerned that a future Zoldyck , even if not by blood, would be so easy to deceive. However, since every carefully planned step is coming from him he’s not surprised in the slightest.

It’s expected of (Y/n) to be loyal, just as much as it’s expected for Killua to take over the family business.

The wooden clock hanging opposite his bed strikes 12 but there is no sign of (Y/n). She never runs late.

The fact that she hadn’t even greeted him when he came back is also unusual. Normally she’d be pacing in front of the entrance door but today his mother took over that role. He heard that she got injured by Killua but (Y/n) has experienced worse so what’s the fuss?

It’s not his problem, he’ll just take a bath before bed. She’ll come running eventually.

~

Illumi’s right arm is beginning to grow numb. He hasn’t moved from the water in over an hour. Not because he needed a break to relax, taking time off for yourself is inefficient. No, he hasn’t moved because he’s been waiting for the familiar steps and hesitant knock to come from outside his room.

Discerning who someone is from the sound of their footsteps and how they carry themselves is second nature to any professional assassin. For instance, Milluki hovers in one spot when walking while Kalluto creates soft patters with his toes.

On the other hand, (Y/n) always shuffles her feet forward just before his door. It takes her approximately 2 seconds to knock when she’s unsure, 1 second when she’s in a normal mood and 0.5 whenever she has news deemed worthy enough for him to hear. Reading the mood of someone before they see you face to face is important.

Coming to terms with the fact that today she won’t pay him a visit, he steps out of the bathtub, water dripping down his naked body. He throws on a plain black bathrobe and leaves the bathroom. Giving his bed a quick-over, he walks out the door.

Guess it’s time for him to pay a visit instead.

If he actually bothers and gives it some thought, it’s not a mystery as to why he hasn’t even seen her shadow today. She’s ashamed. Ashamed of being a failure for letting Killua go.

Her scrambled mind is most likely trying to piece together what she should say. How she should ask for forgiveness and repent.

He wonders if she’s starving herself or if she’s contemplating about going to the self-confinement room.

Normally he’d push her into whatever she makes up but a stick approach by itself won’t be enough. There needs to be a push and pull factor involved if he wants her to listen to him unconditionally.

And what better way than to appear before her, disheveled and still wet in his robe? She’ll jump to conclusions.

Further guilt will set in, how she unnecessarily worried him by skipping the usual goodnight. His state will continue feeding her imagination, connecting unrelated dots to make her believe that he cares for her.

Truly, a puppet and its real master.

Soaking footprints follow behind him on the floor, the dim candlelight making them difficult to notice. He knocks once before letting himself in and shutting the door, back turned to the only other person inside.

A small gasp penetrates the silence and a rush of steps follow suit, stopping just behind him.

“Illumi, welcome back,” (Y/n) is the first to speak. He stays silent.

A nervous shuffle. “Is..everything okay?”.

The voice quietens downs the more she speaks. That should be enough for now.

He turns around and looks down at her concerned face, with no emotion of his own. Her eyes widen a fraction after registering his condition. Before she can open her mouth to question him further, Illumi crinkles his eyes and smiles.

“It’s nothing. I was just worried since I didn’t see you today,” he gazes away, giving her enough time to fix her expression. It’ll be harder for him to get her to open up if she thinks that he sees through her lack of control.

“I missed you too-,”

Presumptuous to think that he missed her.

“-and I’m sorry for not saying anything. I just…,” she stops right before confessing her shortcoming.

He doesn’t provide her with any more time to compose herself, a full day is already generous. Grabbing the door handle he gives it a slight tug but her hand shuts it and pulls his sleeve. That’s new. (Y/n) rarely takes the initiative.

He allows her to drag him over to the bed, slightly curious about her next move. Is she trying to entertain him as an apology or simply trying to put distance between him and the door?

Both tactics aren’t half bad when it comes to simple targets.

He sits down on the covers and analyses her.

A long white nightdress, face ready for bed, barefoot, and a long knife wound going up her arm.

A shred of pride for Killua’s work passes through his head but he doesn’t showcase this. If by any chance she spotted the look, it would demolish the picture he wants to paint.

(Y/n) kneels down in front of him and takes his hand into hers. It’s warm, though not as soft as it used to be. Her breasts rest atop his knees.

His attention migrates from the sudden action to her face, looking for answers. He made sure that she will only expect affection coming from him, not the other way around. It would be too tiring to keep up a loving demeanour- no, scratch that. It wouldn’t be tiring but the expectations would eventually rise and it would result in less time spent on bringing up Killua.

Oh, he zoned out.

(Y/n)’s eyes are full of regret and desperation, the hand holding his trembling just enough to tell him that today’s event is eating at her. Is she waiting for him to say something?

Finally after what feels like an unprecedented amount of time, the scene unfolds.

Her smaller hand pulls his to her face and rests it against her cheek. The second his skin touches hers, he detects slight heat radiating. She must have not treated the cut. The knife was probably dirty too, Killua slacks off in that regard.

“I’m sorry for being a failure, I’m very sorry Illumi. I have no excuse,” the apology flows out of her mouth, bottom lip quivering. The pain of looking at someone she disappointed forces her eyes to shut close. Her free hand latches onto his thigh and she digs in before continuing.

“You can slash my other arm as punishment. Or hang me upside down in the self-containment room,” she throws out. “But please, please don’t give up on me. I can do better Illumi”.

And as if to prove how determined she is, her eyes open up again, staring deeply into his own. Unwavering. Confident.

Though the thumb that he has under her jaw gave the hammering pulse away.

1,2,3. 1,2. 1,2,3.

He stretched out the silence, pretending to ponder over his answer. The unsettling emotions influencing her thoughts will prove beneficial when he flips her assumption around.

He removes his hand from her cheek and moves the one on his thigh to her side. (Y/n) adopts a look of relief, believing that he agreed to her conditions of punishment. What he’s about to do is infinitely more cruel though.

She catches her breath when he follows her example and kneels in front of her. He pulls up the sleeve of her nightdress that’s slipping down before grabbing her shoulders, gently.

“How can I not give up on you when you give up on yourself,” he lectures her, peeking down at her wound. Make the target question their actions.

An expression of remorse adorns her face, a downward tug of the mouth.

He pulls her in, arms encircling and resting on her lower back. The material of the nightdress is light enough for him to make out the feeling of skin.

“Though I won’t give up on you.” Affirmation and a moment of reassurance.

One of his hands travels deliberately slowly up to her neck. It rests on the back of her head, fingers entangled in her hair. Illumi locates the present that he left her the last time he visited and pushes it back into her head. It has moved slightly out.

This prompts (Y/n) to hug him in response, her previously hanging arms now resting comfortably around him. Good, as for the finishing line.

“Though your failure is a disappointment, I know that you will not repeat the same mistake, because you

love me, right?”.

Her head moves to rest between the crook of his neck, nodding in agreement. She doesn’t ask him if he loves her.

It’s expected of her not to.

[alaynaantics]

A Feminine Touch-- Part 1

(( Yeah stuff about the cartoon Regular Show will now haunt my page until I feel like it. I’m binge watching this again on Hulu soooo yep yep yep. So without further ado I present to you a Regular Show Fanfiction Featuring Y/N and her friend Dakota.

Regular show is a cartoon network original not my own work obvi.  

Enjoy ))

A Feminine Touch 

Part 1

“Chick’s ain’t nothing bro!” Muscle Man started “I totally would’ve won that free t-shirt if that chick with the pigtails shut her mouth.” 

Muscle Man continued to unfold into great detail of the event that had recently occurred. Earlier that evening himself and High Five Ghost participated in an eating challenge at Cheezers and were a hairs length away from winning. However, before Muscle Man could finish his last couple wings, his female competitor caught him using an illegal eating technique which caused him to be immediately disqualified. 

The event left a sour taste in his mouth for the remainder of the day which led him to express his anger to Mordecai and Rigby who had also experienced a similar scenario themselves.

“Ugh! I know right! It feels like girls have it out for us today.” Rigby exclaimed, he leaned back on seat and took a firm swig of the soda he swiped from the snack bar. 

“Hm, Hm, Totally dude. Earlier today me and Rigby saw this girl drop her purse on the sidewalk and we tried to help her but then she freaked out saying we tried to harass her or something. Almost got us arrested!” Mordecai spoke with a high level of irritation alongside Rigby who nodded in agreement. 

“Sounds like she should stop taking birth control and start taking some chill pills! WOOOOOOOOAH!” Mordecai and Rigby call out in union, leaving Muscle Man and High Fives in a hysterical fit of laughter. 

“But seriously guys we should get back to work before Benson finds us slacking off.” Mordecai said as he stood to return to his assigned task as the others followed in his footsteps. Not one man took notice of the figure that hid near the snack bar, every word spoken was heard by keen ears not about to be forgotten any time soon. 

~~~

“Okay, Everyone listen up there are a few important announcements I have for today so I need everyone to pay close attention, I'm looking at you Rigby.” Benson voiced at the brunette raccoon which caused him to roll his eyes in annoyance. 

“Now first order of businesses we have a CEO visiting the park today for a special proposal!” With new information everyone voiced their excitement between one another but before another word could be spoken a woman appeared from out of thin air. This caused everyone to halt with their chatter and focus on the strange individual before them. 

“Ah! Diane, welcome my name is Benson and I'm the Park manager and these are my employee’s Skips, Pops-” unfortunately, Benson never finished naming the rest of his crew once the hand of Diane, the CEO, placed itself right in front of his face. 

“I don't need names of your boyish workers who reek of sweat and testosterone.” She spoke with a heavy Russian accent. For obvious reasons this caused the guys to jeer at Diane with anger. 

“GAH you girls are all the same! Always complaining and hating on guys when in all actuality it's your fault you're so uptight in the first place! You-you bitch!” Rigby blurted out to Diane who stood unfazed before him. 

“Yeah, I get that you’re this big fancy CEO but that doesn't give you the right to pick on us because we're guys!” Mordecai joined Rigby against Diane alongside Muscle Man who joined in due to Rigby’s outburst. 

“Yeah, you're just stuck up because no man would wanna hit that! Bahaha am I right Fives?” Questioned Muscleman who leaned over to his ghostly best friend for a high five. What should have been a celebratory high five in his eyes turned out to be the breaking point for Diane.

“Wow” she muttered her heavy accent now non existent “looks like I am in the right to discipline the lot of you.” 

Diane shook her head in disappointment before she turned her head to the sky and released a powerful shriek that shook the earth to its core. The sound of the waves created a blast power so great it caused all fragile objects within a ninety mile radius to shatter into dust. 

Luckily for Benson Skips protected his head from the soundwave which delayed the damage that would have caused his immediate demise. 

“Run!” Shouted Skips but his words were left with no prevail due to massive tree roots that sprouted from the earth that continued to wrap themselves around their ankles in a viper clasp. Diane's eyes shined an envious green before the glow of her hues caused momentary blindness to the park employee’s. Their vision was temporarily impaired even when they cower beneath her gaze they could not escape the wrath of an angry woman. Suddenly, the tremors and screaming all came to a halt that left everything in dead silence. 

Skips was the first to uncover his eyes but once his gaze settled upon the being in front of his he cursed beneath his breath. Since Skips rarely cursed in dire situations the other park employees opened their eyes and were not met with Diane but with a giant doe. 

“Workers of this so-called Park heed my words!” A voice roared from above.

“It is I, Mother Nature! the Creatress of this planet you house yourselves upon. For centuries I have done nothing but nurture and provide the very resources that give you the very breath you take. So care take why do you believe I am here man?” She questioned, her voice stern yet diligent such as a mother would speak to a mere child. 

Benson was the first fool to speak his mind. 

“...To make a deal with the park?” 

This displeased Mother Nature greatly, so much in fact that she struck lightning near Benson in a slight fit of rage for his incompetence. This caused Benson to shriek and therefore leap into Skips’s arms who skillfully caught him. 

“No you blubbering fool! I stand before you today because of how you men view the actions of women! Throughout this disastrous day I have bore witness to everything shorter than a candle’s lick of compassion towards women. Only for heinous comments to follow soon after those encounters from these treacherous snakes you so call friends. Mordecai, Rigby, Muscle Man, and High-five Ghost since you’re so unappreciative of the gifts my kin bestow upon you I shall reap this land from this earth! And take you along with it!” 

As she finished her words Mother Nature cast her arms amongst the park grounds leaching the essence and beauty of the land within her grasp. A bitter breeze ripped through the sky that ripped away any vegetation the park acquired through the years. Benson looked around in horror as he witnessed his park being destroyed for the up tenth time within the past few days. His gumballs turn a fierce shade of red as he turned to his two workers who latched onto the house for stability. 

“MORDECAI AND RIGBY FIX THIS MESS OR YOUR FIRED!!” Benson screamed across the house lot where he too dangled from the neighboring park light pole. 

“Yeah Benson like we totally know how to fix this!” Rigby yelled from afar using sarcasm directed entirely at Benson. 

“Yeah Man even if we knew how to fix this I don't know if she’ll listen to us!” Mordecai chimed in next to his best friend a look of confusion stapled upon his features. Benson could feel the strength in his grip depleting by the second and by the looks of his surroundings if they don't act accordingly they won't have anything to hold onto much longer. So, he mustered up whatever professionalism he had left to make an offer in an attempt to save his workers. 

“Skips! Skips! I’m begging you please find a way to get us out of this, please Skips help us!” Benson pleaded to his immortal companion, hot tears threatening to overflow and stream down his face. Skips sighed in defeat knowing that it was inevitable that he himself would have to fix everything this time. The white haired man took a deep breath and bet everything on his next words. 

“How about we cut a deal?!” Skips yelled aloud and luckily his booming howl reached the Goddesses fluffy ears. Mother Nature hummed with interest allowing the discord to cease momentarily to hear the rest of Skips offer.

“Very well Sir Skips I will adhere to your offer and induct a challenge of my choosing. Understood?”

Skips nodded then continued to hear out her offer.  

“I will give yourself and your companions precisely one hour to hire two female workers to be a permanent part of your team. These two individuals will be of my choosing, however, it will be up to you seven to decipher who these chosen ones are within a group of many others. If you hire the correct girls I will spare you and the park but choose wrong and I will drain the essence of your life back into the earth's crust. Do we have a deal?” Her words were sweet but laced with venomous intent as her outstretched hand dangled in anticipation.  

This challenge was going to be difficult. They knew this, they all know that the chance of them finding the correct pair is like finding a needle in a haystack. Nevertheless, they all knew what was at stake and with an unspoken unison they all shared a glance with one another in a silent agreement to accept her challenge. 

They each stood and placed their hand atop the tip of Mother Nature's massive finger, giving a firm squeeze as a sign of agreement. 

“Deal.”

[nohoney]

Tell Me (When You’re Ready) - 4.2

warnings: 18+, drug use, polyamory, low key manipulation, toxic relationships

summary: 

It was a hidden selfish offer he put out there, hoping on the slightest chance that he can become closer to you by becoming apart of the relationship if Touya approved. So when his offer gets the green light, he can’t help but feel a little bit giddy inside for the opportunity to become even closer to you.

Keigo loves being your friend, he genuinely does, but his desire for you is so strong that friendship can only wall off those feelings for so long.

4.1 ✧ 4.2 ✧ 4.3 ✧ 4.4

Since having met Touya, Keigo understood pretty quickly that his friend was the ‘no strings attached’ kind of guy when it came to girls. Not even a friends with benefits type of deal because hell, Touya didn’t really want friends. He was just a shameless guy who shamelessly used girls. So to learn that he’s chasing after one specific girl, going so far as to ghost half of the chicks he usually fucked, Keigo has to know who you are that’s got his friend entranced so much.

Before meeting you, Keigo had already known what you looked like naked and cock drunk after getting fucked. How fucking pretty you look with cum all over your face and how intoxicatingly cute you sounded as you backed up into Touya’s cock. Touya had no shame about sharing your nudes and the videos he recorded of the two of you, he’d done it plenty of times before. Just with you, instead of deleting them when he got bored they were saved into a folder on his phone.

Keigo just had to ask, “You got a crush on this girl?”

He’s not necessarily surprised that his question isn’t answered, just given a half hearted shrug before the line on the plate was snorted.

You’re definitely a pretty little thing that apparently that gives fantastic head and you’ve got a sweet cunt to match, that’s the impression that Keigo gets just from looking at photos of you. When you’re officially introduced to him, he gets why Touya became enthralled in you pretty quick. There’s an air about you that makes the people around you want to take care of you; it’s not that you’re an innocent virgin or inexperienced little girl that made Touya fall over for you, you’re just the type of girl that needs to be looked over and taken care of. That’s your purpose and the purpose you give to others because god, the award of just your smile and gratitude was just… enchanting.

You’re just begging to be possessed by someone and how fortunate for you that Touya’s the one you decide to give it a chance with.

Keigo had to admit silently to himself that it was a little amusing but also a little sad to watch Touya try to compute being sensitive and considerate to someone else’s feelings. But he cares about Touya so of course he helps him try to navigate the pitfalls of actually being tied down to someone. He hears both sides, the hardheadedness from Touya and the frustrations you bear from it but Keigo is there to help smooth things along.

He knows that he shouldn’t play therapist to you and Touya too often, you guys are adults and need to figure it out on your own, but he likes to see the two of you happy when things are calm for the time being up until another little mishap comes along again.

It’s so quick how it happens, considering that Keigo only met you so recently, but just like Touya he becomes more enamored by you as time passes by. When he’s alone with you, his heart flutters and he takes little moments to be close to you without breaking any suspicion that he wants more from you. More than just wanting you to bounce on his dick the way you do with Touya, he doesn’t want just sex from you, Keigo wants to own a piece of you too.

He thinks about fleeting moments with you, the little things you do with just him that Touya would be unable to do, and loves the sparkle you get in your eye when he does something as simple as get you a cup of coffee.

On the days that he’s not with you or Touya, when he’s busy with his own workload because he likes to keep busy, his breaks are spent just thinking of you. The texts you send back and forth to one another, a meme that’s an inside joke with you, and when he’s alone at night Keigo listens to the audio recordings of you getting fucked that Touya sent to him just the day before.

The few days that he doesn’t think about you at all are when he’s hyper focused on his work, needing Adderall to make sure that he’s ready for his upcoming presentation or upcoming exam that he feels he won’t do very well on. He works hard and focuses on what needs to be done for his courses, and when he’s all finished Keigo rewards himself by either thinking of you or contacting you for a little hangout.

Touya’s making good and sure that you’re bound to him, Keigo admittedly helping him in the process because he doesn’t want to be excluded from you and knowing that Touya won’t cut you off from him. You’ve got a pretty strong attachment to Keigo that actually warms his heart, you’re his little dove and Touya’s pretty doll.

Keigo is pretty sure that Touya is aware of his feelings for you, but he gives him the courtesy of coming clean to his friend. He’s admitting that he likes his friend’s girlfriend as more than just a friend and a sexual object. Touya doesn’t seem to react to his admission, further confirming that he most likely knew all along, but Keigo is surprised by Touya’s confession that he’s in love with you.

The guy that’s still fucks other girls on the side while dealing to them is in love with you.

At least it’s Touya’s version of love.

Keigo can see Touya’s anxiety, how he hides his codependency for you by always trying to ensure you’re right where he wants you and how unhinged he gets when it seems you’re gone too long. Sometimes he really does fear for Touya’s psyche and how fragile he actually is sometimes, such an apathetic guy getting hung up over one girl. He understands though because you’re Touya’s first love and as scared as he is of that feeling, he also doesn’t want to let it go so he’s grooms you to keep you by his side. Overt attention by always wanting to know where you are, verbal seduction and charming you with the cute names he gives you, physical isolation by always wanting to keep you at his apartment, and gift giving in the form of pills and powders that you’re actually craving more of but they keep you balanced, not too little and definitely not too much.

You have such soft boundaries so it was easy to capture you, he knows it’s wrong.

But Keigo can’t say he’ll stop himself or Touya from keeping you to themselves. They both treat you the same way, Keigo’s just a bit on the nicer side and a little more polished with his social skills so he flies a bit under the radar. The two of them guard you away from anything you shouldn’t know, things that you don’t have to know because there’s no reason for you to get involved in the first place. You learned pretty early on to not ask questions, even if the both of them can see that burning curiosity in your eye but you extinguish those feelings and do as you’re told.

You are such a good little bird.

Touya still struggles navigating his relationship and committing himself to you, so Keigo offers himself as a buffer. It was a hidden selfish offer he put out there, hoping on the slightest chance that he can become closer to you by becoming apart of the relationship if Touya approved. So when his offer gets the green light, he can’t help but feel a little bit giddy inside for the opportunity to become even closer to you.

Keigo loves being your friend, he genuinely does, but his desire for you is so strong that friendship can only wall off those feelings for so long.

He wants to care for you, wants to look over you, and wants to keep you happy.

“You’re so good Keigo… I love you so much. I’m so glad that we met Keigo, I’m so happy you’re in my life.” you told him while you’re at the peak of your roll at a house party Touya brought you to. He knows that you only took the tablet to forget about your anger towards your boyfriend but Keigo will gladly take all the affection you give him while you’re doped up on serotonin.

And the way you pulled him in to kiss you?

God, he knew that you were on but you couldn’t have done that with him without at least feeling a little bit something more than just friendship with him.

Now Keigo doesn’t want to shift the blame around… but Touya was the one that almost fucked up the arrangement. Of course you were going to get mad at Touya when you saw that hickey on his neck, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. But Keigo is familiar with his friend’s temper and has to talk him down when he insinuates breaking up with you, which is the last thing that either of them wants. “She just misses you, you gotta at least try to meet her in the middle. Are you really okay with her feeling like you’re ignoring her?”

Keigo knows that it’s really serious between the two of you as he commanded you to call him by his name instead of Dabi, both of them looking down on you as Touya thrusts his cock into your little pussy. He remembers your eyes looking back and forth between the two of them, probably still not comprehending what exactly was happening. He heard all of Touya’s words and your little sounds through the haze of his own come down, just enough blood rushing to his dick to get him hard but not enough where he can take up Touya’s offer to fuck you in the moment. He figured it was best though, that it wasn’t the right time for him to fuck your brains out when you just learned the truth of how he really felt about you.

It was a rough start but Keigo got inducted into the relationship although in the process he had accidentally revealed some information to you that Touya wasn’t ready to discuss with you yet. He just hated seeing you so upset over the other girls and when you had depreciated yourself into listing yourself as just one of the whores, he just had to tell you that you were more important to Touya than anything else. You technically weren’t wrong when you deduced that Keigo was being offered into the relationship for Touya’s peace of mind and to ensure you wouldn’t run off to anyone else.

“He feels you only deserved to get fucked by people who love you, those were his words.”

Those words had secured everything into place, even if he was never supposed to say it in the first place.

“Wait, did Touya actually say that he loves me? What kind of love are we talking about?”

Keigo couldn’t say anymore on that, it wasn’t his place to say anything.

“Do you love me Keigo and is that love the same as Touya’s?”

Nope, he accidentally cracked that door open and now you were trying to get a peek inside. And on top of ousting Touya, he also did it to himself as well. Touya was the one who said out loud that he loved you, not him… at least not yet. He definitely feels something more than just a friendly fondness for you, infatuation was probably the right word to describe it but not enough, just saying ‘liking you a lot’ doesn’t cover the foundation of what his feelings for you are. It’s much too abstract for him to label it but he guesses love could be the best word to describe it.

That first time he pushed his cock inside you, he felt like he was about to almost blow his load immediately into you. He just almost couldn’t believe that it was actually happening, he wasn’t fisting his dick in his hand while listening to another audio recording of you sent from Touya or fucking some annoying girl into her bed while wishing it was you; Keigo was actually fucking you himself. He also couldn’t help the slight satisfaction that you were so shy to have him join whereas with Touya you were so eager; you were so cute acting all bashful and so fucking sexy as you lost your mind over his dick.

And when Touya asked if you wanted Keigo to fuck you too and be with the both of them, he came earlier than he would have liked because he got so excited when you said that you wanted the both of them.

She wants me… she wants me!

After that ‘proper threesome’ and spending more time together as more than just friends, Keigo decides that he no longer guesses he loves you; he really does love you.

After months of silently pining, he gets to have you the same way Touya does. He doesn’t mind this whole polyamorous thing going on between the three of them, Keigo’s brought a balance to the relationship that Touya could never bring himself. It’s not to say that things are one hundred percent smooth since Keigo came in, but definitely not as rocky as before when it was just you and Touya. They get the (not so) occasional looks from people as you hold hands with the both of them, move to kiss one of them on the lips before going to the other, and then drop little innuendos that you want to get railed by the both of them.

Touya’s happy and Keigo’s happy.

And what’s most important is that you’re happy and you’re not leaving them.

Touya tends to worry himself into anxiety over that possibility and Keigo not as much, but it does creep on him on occasion.

There was one day Touya brings something new for all three of you to try: ketamine. Touya’s really into opioids and anesthetics so it seemed suitable for him whereas Keigo favors amphetamine and stimulants; one likes to be detached and relaxed versus the other that wants to be alert and energetic. Anesthetics aren’t really his thing but he’s willing to give it a try at least, just like he did with orgies and shrooms. Keigo tried them, thought it was decent and would think about doing it again if there was an opportunity.

So the three of you try it together and wait for it to settle in.

Like Keigo thought would happen, Touya really likes it. He sat on his side of the couch very comfortable and relaxed while you sat by his feet on the floor, looking like you were in a dream and floating in whatever happy sea that the tranquilizer had brought to you. Unfortunately for Keigo, he did not like it at all and he wondered what he did wrong for him to feel fucked up. He didn’t like feeling detached from his body and he felt anxious instead, sitting uncomfortably on his side of the couch and trying to calm himself.

He feels lazy and numb but not in the good way.

At that moment he craved coke more than ever to wake him up, wondering how many lines it would take to pull him out of this sea that he was drowning in. Then he feels a weight on his lap, he opens his bleary eyes and sees you right in front of him looking so concerned for him. “S’okay Keigo… we’re here. Don’t freak out.” you coo to him, dropping your hands on his shoulders and getting comfortable in his lap. Your movements are a bit lazy but he can see you trying your best to be present for him.

“Dove… no, M’fine…” Keigo drawls out and frowns at hearing his own voice.

His eyes gloss over your features and he thinks in that moment that you’re pretty, much too pretty for your own good. There was a guy he saw walking down the street the other day, a very handsome guy and then he’s suddenly pairing that random handsome stranger with you instead. Keigo doesn’t like the image he conjured in his head and he drops his head back against the couch.

Keigo feels one of your hands on the back of his head, carefully cradling his head as you bring it forward. He lolls a little bit and he still feels like he’s out of his own body, images of you with that handsome man still dance in his head and he feels like he’s in that scenario he’s imagining rather than being present with you as you comb your hand through his hair. “Don’ leave songbird… don’ go.”

“I’m here Kei… M’here.” your voice is so soft when you reassure him, though you look unsure yourself if your words were reaching him. “C’mere… let’s hold hands…”

With the best effort your could you settled in between the boys on the couch, leaning more towards Keigo’s side so that you could tend to him and Touya leaning towards you. His hands felt like it was two hundred pounds when you grabbed his, wondering how you got so strong when just yesterday you couldn’t open your water bottle because Touya screwed the lid on too tight. But you hold Keigo’s hand in your lap and Touya puts his hand over yours as well.

“We fucked up… I shoulda’ trip sit for you guys…” Touya says quietly, enjoying the effects of the ketamine but present enough to acknowledge the irresponsibility of the three of you experimenting with something new without someone to watch over you. “No more for the bird boy… he don’t like it.”

That was a huge understatement.

“How do you feel (Name)?”

“Kinda like… I’m drunk but not? It feels good for me but Keigo… I think he mighta’ done a little more than us and thas’ why he’s like this…”

You talk but Keigo still thinks about you and the handsome stranger together, his own anxieties forming in his chest and clawing him from the inside. Like he’s living in that hallucination in his mind, following the imaginary you as a ghost even though you were literally right next to him. He’s unable to freak out properly but he tries to concentrate, hating himself and the passage of time because goddamnit, he wants to be sober.

Much like how Touya swore off acid the first and last time he tried it, Keigo would never consume ketamine again. He probably really did take a little more than he thought he did because you and Touya had a positive experience while he was suffering. He read online later about some other people’s experience and some of them falling into the ‘K-hole’, an experience of extreme dissociation and severe sedation.

“God… never fucking again.”

He’ll stick to cocaine and Adderall, thank you. Neither of those things gave him anxiety or weird  hallucinations about you running off with other people.

You doted on him for a while after that experience, like making his favorite foods and stopping by his lab to drop off coffee to him. He appreciated you going out of your way for him but it wasn’t necessary, you were the one that should be doted on. So with the little favors you did for him, he rewarded you back twice as much.

Of course he knows that your favorite rewards are the ones that leave your legs shaking and cum either oozing out of your cute pussy or painted on your body instead.

He likes working alongside Touya to make you go cock crazy when the three of you are together. It’s a little paradoxical how much they want to protect you but when it comes to sex, they just want to bully and make you cry so much. Your cute little hiccups when you beg that they be nice to you or the tears that gather on the rim of your pretty eyes as they overwhelm you the point of being unable to articulate anything else but their names, calling you a dumb little girl or a cock crazed bitch or a useless cumslut.

So fucking mean… but it feels so fucking good.

“Use me… use me please!” you cry out.

“Such a dumb little whore.” Keigo tuts at you while Touya fetches his belt and restrains your arms through the loops after making sure it’s nice and secure.

They fuck you like crazy, demeaning names coupled with little rewards as you helplessly let yourself be used and overloaded. And as mean as they are, they’re always extra loving afterwards. The first time you experienced a sub drop from them, it didn’t go very smoothly and they had to scramble because they thought the aftercare they provided before was enough. They’re whispering sweet praises and compliments for being such a good girl, more head pets and massages to relax you, squeezing hugs and loving kisses.

“Princess, you are so sweet… such a good princess.”

“Baby bird, our pretty little baby.”

When they’re sure that you’re all taken care of, they let you rest for however long you need to. They quietly leave the bedroom and they sit together, sometimes having a smoke together or making something to eat later on.

Touya returns from the balcony after having a cigarette while Keigo just sat inside and scrolled through his phone. He checked up on you just a few minutes ago, still finding you sound asleep and still leaving you be. Touya plants himself on the opposite end of the couch, exhaling and letting his head fall back against the cushions.

“I love her.” he says out loud.

“I know.”

“Do you think she loves us?”

“I’m pretty sure that with everything we’ve been through, she has to at least feel a little something like that.”

Touya turns his head to look at Keigo and asks, “Do you think she knows I love her?”

Yeah because Keigo is the one that accidentally told you.

He clears his throat and reaches for his glass of water, taking a few sips before setting it back down on the coaster. “Do you think you’re ready to tell her?”

“I’ve told her I loved her… just never to her face.”

Keigo didn’t exactly know what he meant saying that but he put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and told him, “Take the time you need man, I’m sure (Name) will be really happy when you decide to tell her.”

Keigo says that but he actually hopes that Touya will confess himself to you soon so that he can say it too. He wants to tell you that he loves you too, but he’s very aware that you probably want to reciprocate an ‘I love you’ to Touya first rather than him. After all, it was Touya that you got together with first so it seemed natural that you would trade those words with him before telling Keigo.

He can see that sparkle in your eye when you look at either of them, the way you look so fucking soft at them that he just wants to lay in bed naked with you and just hold you until the universe disintegrates. You put so much trust in them and you don’t even realize how much power you hold over them. They love you but the questions begs is if you love them back in the same way they do.

You must be, you wouldn’t be doing this with them if you didn’t at all.

It’s always hard to be the first one to put those words out there and honestly if Touya wasn’t in the picture, Keigo would have said them by now.

Don’t get him wrong, Keigo does love this three way relationship he has with you and Touya but sometimes there’s that small selfish part of him that imagines that it was just you and him. Touya got to date you by himself for a few months, just the two of you before Keigo was added in and Keigo knows that he’ll never have the chance to monogamously date you because he knows that you and Touya won’t let each other go. You’ve been reeled in, going against your intuition to leave him because you’ve made yourself to believe the infatuation and obsession he has over you is genuine love despite still fucking other girls and struggling internally with his own commitment to you.

But is Keigo’s love any different from Touya’s? It honestly isn’t, he can’t fool himself into thinking that he loves you any different than Touya; everything his friend does, Keigo would do the same, just the only difference being that if you told him to stop seeing other girls, Keigo would in a heartbeat. They obsess over you with the same intensity, dote on you the same, coddle the hell out of you and spoil you so much.

Keigo secretly loves when you go to him when Touya leaves to sell to the whores. He hates seeing you upset over Touya but he loves that you go to him to take your mind off of it. In those times he lies to himself and believes that you’re just dating him and him alone, that there’s no other person you’re in love with and all your devotion belongs to him. Keigo knows that Touya still struggles with his commitment to you, that as much as he loves you there’s also a voice that whispers in his head to sabotage things with you by still returning to the whores. And Keigo is there to tell his friend that one day he’ll stop seeing those other girls, that one day Touya will imagine his world without you if he continued to do what he does and that it’ll scare him so much that it really will just be you and only you.

Keigo hopes that when that day comes that he’ll still be around as well, that you’re feelings for him will be just as strong as you feel for Touya and you’ll want him to stay just as bad.

He’s apart of this too, he’s in love with you too.

When you’re in his bed with your knees pressed to your chest and your hands weakly holding onto the headboard he asks you, “Am I your boyfriend?”

“Yeah… Yes, you’re my boyfriend!” you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

His golden eyes are intense on you as he pulls those beautiful sounds from you, like he’s a conductor and you’re his choir. He twirls his hip a certain way and you cry out for him, he presses his thumb to your clit and you choke out a curse, he slaps one of your tits and you beg for Keigo to be a little more gentle. You were being such a coy little brat earlier, not following instructions when he told you to ride his cock the way he wanted you to, instead of getting him off you were using him for your own pleasures. And he would have spoiled you with all the orgasms you wanted had you not been such a cheeky little thing and had the audacity to call him your dildo as you rode him to your pleasure.

Keigo understands why Touya likes it so much when you’re a brat, you’ve got that crazed look in your eye as you anticipate punishment from either of them. That you know you’re being a little shit by acting defiant just so that they can assume control over you and fucking show that you’re not the boss around here, they are. They control whether or not you get to get off and if you do, it’s going to be by their rules and not yours.

Be a little brat, be a little whore… just keep on being ours…

“Who’s pussy is this little dove? Who does your pussy belong to?” Keigo grunts the questions as he drives his hips forward into your cunt. The bed creaks under the weight of his movements but your sounds are louder, garbled moans and cute hiccups as you try to find in your scrambled, fucked up brain the answer he wants to hear. He holds the back of your knees, skin slapping loudly against one another every time he pushes his length into you. “I asked you a question dove.”

“It’s yours Keigo! This pussy belongs to you!” you sob out as your hands lose grip on the headboard and fall limply above your head.

You’re such a radiating vision in that moment that Keigo’s heart jumps up into his throat, caught off guard by how much he’s enraptured by you. He has plenty of photos and videos of you in his phone, thousands of memories that play through in his head, and yet his heart still swells every time he sees how beautiful you are. Whether your hair is tied up or worn down, with or without makeup, wearing big sweats or pretty dresses, when you’ve got the happiest grin on your face or heartbreaking tears fall from your eyes, whether you’re just being yourself or navigating in the throes of something difficult for you, he always thinks you’re beautiful.

Chest heaving and broken sobs spill out of your pretty lips, you cum unexpectedly on his cock and he wonders himself what triggered you because he’s pretty certain that he didn’t do anything in particular. So he inspects you and sees how flustered you are, glassy eyes that look away in embarrassment, the cute way you use one hand to cover the lower half of your face and the other covering your breasts… you’re acting shy all of a sudden.

How adorable… but for what reason?

Keigo gently takes your hands and pins them down onto the bed, his grip firm to ensure you won’t go anywhere but not too tight. You try to turn your head away but he follows, capturing you in a kiss and cherishing how you moan against his mouth. Your pussy clenches around him and he pulls back, a line of drool connecting your lips together. “Baby bird? Are you okay?”

You nod your head and look up at him through your lashes, you’re so demure when not too long ago you were acting like a little brat.

Something changed but Keigo doesn’t know what.

“Kei… fuck me please.”

So he does, releasing your wrists and bracing one arm by your head while the other grabs the headboard. Keigo’s body shivers slightly as your arms go up and he feels your hands lay flat on the upper of his back, the tips of your fingers just pressing slightly down on muscles that almost makes him like jelly. His weak spot was right there and you knew what you were doing when you touched him there.

He thinks about the conversation you had with him and Touya, the one where you talked about if they both had super powers. It intrigued him when you told him that you could imagine him having wings as his power, it inspired him a little to consider getting wings tattooed on his back. You always admired Touya’s own minimal tattoos and he can imagine your awe if he were to get his own ink designed into his body as well.

Keigo fucks you roughly enough where you head begins to bounce against the headboard but you’re uncaring since it doesn’t hurt too much. You might get a little headache later on but he’ll be there to nurse your little head.

“Touch yourself baby bird, play with yourself…”

When you play with your clit, your pussy quivers around his cock and it’s only a few more pumps until the both of you finish together. He presses his face into the crook of your neck and groans lowly, the timber of his voice making you shudder beneath him. Quiet panting as the two of you catch your breath, Keigo reaching blindly for the shirt he tossed off earlier so that he could use it as a cum rag. He pulls out quickly and you whimper, letting his cum ooze out of your little pussy.

“Make sure to pee baby bird.” he reminds you.

“Yes Keigo…”

You wash up in his bathroom, your favorite shampoo and conditioner set along with your body wash sit in his little shower caddy that hangs from the shower head. Music plays from your phone as you clean up while Keigo is in his kitchen and setting up some snacks to eat for when you come out. Touya is going to return soon, making a delivery in downtown and meeting up with Shigaraki in the meantime.

He should be here any minute.

Keigo hears his hair dryer being used, louder than the music playing from your phone from where he stands. You told him how you want to style his hair differently the next time there’s a date night and he looks forward to it.

Emerging from the shower refreshed and clean, you come out wearing a pair of comfy sweats and a little tank top that hangs a little low and shows off your cleavage. You’re not trying to be sexy, it’s just comfortable loungewear for you. Refreshed from cleaning up, you help Keigo put the snacks on the coffee table as well as pour a cup of coffee for Touya when he arrives. Feeding each other chips and popcorn, Keigo cuddles you as the two of you watch a comedy together.

The lock to his door turns and Touya enters, taking off his jacket and leaving his boots by the front door. He goes straight to you, a sign that he hadn’t sold to one of his whores because if he did, he would have just gone straight to the restroom to wash off whatever perfume the bitch was wearing. You’re happy to see him, pecking him on the lips and letting him lay his head down in his lap while Keigo has his arm around your shoulder.

It feels nice, just the three of you.

Touya will talk to Keigo later about what happened with Shigaraki, if there is anything at all to say. But for now, he enjoys the hand you have on his knee while your other one massages Touya’s scalp.

At some point Touya turns his head, his nose pretty close to your crotch and he takes a small sniff. “I can smell Keigo’s cum in you doll. You sitting here still stuffed with cum?”

You’re embarrassed and try to push Touya’s head away. “I-I swear that I washed most of it out while I was in the shower! I just didn’t want to have to change my panties twice in a day if I kept it in me and-”

Touya chuckles and taps his finger on the tip of your nose. “I’m just kidding princess but now I know that you were being a little whore again while I was away.” It’s said in jest and it makes Keigo laugh as well as you squawk at him, pushing at Touya’s head and demand that he take his ass to the shower because you claim that he stinks. Keigo continues to snicker as Touya does as he’s told, knocking his head slightly on the way before shutting the bathroom door.

You take the bowl of chips that’s almost empty and head to the kitchen for a refill, mumbling about how dirty Touya was.

Keigo follows you, hearing the shower running inside the bathroom and knowing that he has to say this quickly since Touya doesn’t take very long showers. So he puts an arm around your waist and pulls you to him, softly calling your name to get your attention. You look up at him and wonder what he wants to say, noticing the change of tone in his voice.

Touya can take the time he needs for his own confession, Keigo wants to let you know now.

“I love you.”

Your eyes widen slightly in surprise and your mouth drops a little, clearly not anticipating that he would say such a thing. But then a happy smile comes onto your face and Keigo is relieved to see a positive reaction, his heart would have been broken if you had given him anything else. He can see that you’re trying to say it back but you hesitate as your eyes shift to the bathroom door and he already knows why; you want to tell Touya you love him first before saying it to Keigo.

It’s okay, you’re worth the wait.

“You don’t have to say it back right now, I just wanted to let you know dove.”

Because now that he thinks about it, that reaction you had earlier in his bed, he could see that shift when he replays it in his head. You must have realized it then with his cock buried in you that you were in love with him too, not just with Touya. He’s buried deep in your heart now and he’s not as fearful that you’ll let him go and choose him over Touya, he needs to be in this relationship in order for you and Touya to thrive.

You’ll choose them both because you know that you need both him and Touya.

Even if sometimes he still imagines that it was just you and him, Keigo knows that it’s better that he share you with Touya than not have you at all.

“Will you say it again Keigo?” you ask quietly, your eyes shining with a new light that makes Keigo’s heart swell. He knows you love him back and he’ll patiently for you to return those words back to him when you’re ready, he looks forward to it. He leans in close to your ear, whispering it so smoothly as your whole body shudders in pleasure.

“I love you.”

[shini--chan]

Okay, I've been wracking my brain to think of an ask for you because I know your writing is fire, and I don't want to waste it! If the mood strikes you, can you write a little yandere Levi in a universe of your choosing or constructing? I'm sort of interested to see how you imagine him as a yandere 😊

Thx, fam!

As I told you once before, this is the ask that almost made me forfeit my principal of answering asks chronologically. :P

So, this will be my usual mix of headcanons and Imagines if you don’t mind, since I have a lot of thoughts on this man and just don’t want to stumble into the snare of writing a full length story … yet.

I’ ll also keep this general, since the universe any Levi fic is set in just changes the nuances, and not fundamental character traits.

Also, I have to remark that it is already too late for me - I’m hip deep in academia.  

Yandere Levi Ackerman  

Captain Levi is a very orderly person, it is part of his lifestyle and how he interacts with others and himself. It is something he is really strict about and he wouldn’t tolerate anything less than perfect hygiene in a lover. To him, there is nothing less disgusting than poor body hygiene and should you start slacking off in anyway when it comes to taking care of yourself, a very fundamental aspect, then he won’t shy away from taking matters in his own hands.

You gasped as a bucket of water was frigidly emptied over head and you threw yourself out as your bed, expecting your assailant to have lunged onto you, should you have remained there.

Instead, he was standing right in front of you.

Somewhat shyly, you looked up into Levi’s pale face and sneered at the accursed object that he was holding in his hand. He sneered right back at you, the corners of his lips curled slightly upwards in disgust. A rather uncommon display of extreme emotion on his part, for being a commonly stoic man.

“Get up!”, he curtly barked to which you stiffly groaned. Sloppily, you got up, still groggy from being rudely awoken and not in the best mood because of it. The water running in rivulets down your body and made your sleep wear cling to your skin didn’t help either.

“What was that for?”, you whined, completely oblivious as to why he was being so imperious to you. What had you done to warrant such poor treatment?

“Don’t get cheeky now, little brat. You didn’t shower last night and went all sweaty to bed. You deserved what I did to you now.”

Him being orderly isn’t restricted to personal cleanliness, it is also about how disciplined a person is with themselves. Having had to live in harsh environments for his whole life, he is a firm believer in pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps. That also means that should you suffer from any mental disorder, trauma induction or not, he wouldn’t be very understanding. Not that he wouldn’t be concerned about your broken state of mind, rather he wouldn’t see how being kind and coddling you would fix it.

“You know brat, if you would stop sulking and feeling sorry for yourself, your life would start getting damn better”, he snarled at your cowered form.

Hunched over the table, you had elected to grab a beer to numb the pain that was ravaging your heart. Watching people die never became easy, especially when they were close to you.

“Just leave me alone”, you begged and raised the tankard to your mouth again. Yet before the wooden rim could touch your lips, it was shamelessly ripped away from you. Levi’s sharp grey eyes were honed on you, the fire of anger dancing in them. Just why did he have to play judge now of all times?

“No, you look like shit and you’re talking shit. Moping around wouldn’t make anything better you idiot. You need to your act together, not get piss drunk.” 

Furthermore, he needs to be in control. As soon as he feels like his vice-like grasp over reality is slipping, he does what all people do that are losing their power – he scrambles to re-attain it. And he doesn’t hesitate to utilize violence. On top of that he sees respect given, as power given, so he demands the piety that his position ought to give him.  It doesn’t matter that you’re his lover, if anything you ought to give him his due. Rows with him are literally the worst – be prepared to be swept of your feet! 

Roughly, you were slammed against the wall in a manner that knocked the wind out of your lungs with a crude sound. It was followed by a gasp as your ears rang from your skull having banged against the stone and your muscles and bones ached.

“What did you just say?”, Levi snarled, a rare look of utter rage on his handsome face. You knew it was a rhetorical question, he had heard you the first time around. But you were too steep in your own anger to not push your luck.

“Don’t be like that, darling”, you spat the last word as if it were poison in your mouth. Warranted actually, since you had been coerced and tricked into this relationship. “I said that maybe you should take a leave out of your superior’s book because all your shortcomings make you unbearable to be a runt. Somehow, I doubt that would work, though – you’ll always remain a sewer rat at heart.”

A wrong move – those handsome features contorted to something utterly ghastly.

“You know we wouldn’t have such problems if you could control that attitude of yours. And if you would show me respect”, he hissed as he pressed you further against the wall, so that you were sandwiched between stone and muscles to a painful degree. The hands grasping you by the front of your clothing didn’t help either.

Lips twisting into a snarl of your own, you countered: “Respect is supposed to be earned, Captain. I will only respect you if you respect me.” You were really insistent on digging yourself your own grave, weren’t you?

“You’re much prettier if you keep that mouth of yours shut.

“Consider the feeling to be mutual, brat. Why should I give you any respect if you won’t give me any? And remember, I’m above you, so I don’t owe you anything. You owe me the world.”

Levi also has a strict set of rules that he expects you to follow to the dot. A fair warning, however, he may change the one or the other spontaneously and not inform you of it until you’re bent over his desk. Also, it is common knowledge that he endorses corporal punishment and celebrates pain as a prim method to install discipline. He really thinks that bad behaviour can be beat out of somebody. He is also exceptionally cruel with his punishments. This can be traced back to how he was desensitized to violence at a relatively early age and revels in have people submit to him.

You had barely set foot in his study when he looked up from his paperwork and ordered you: “Come over here, and bend over the desk.”

Shocked by his harsh words, you nevertheless complied. You knew that resistance would only make matters worse. Still, as you bend over and pressed your cheek against the cool oak you asked: “What did I do wrong this time?”

Briefly, he stopped rummaging through the chest that stood by the window and glanced over his shoulder.

“Are you serious? Don’t you already know? And I though you weren’t so goddamn stupid”, he snapped.

Finally, having found what he was searching for, he turned towards you again. There was a semi-bored expression gracing his visage as he drawled: “I told you a thousand times before, pet. When you are finished with your afternoon chores you are to come directly to me. No chit-chat with somebody else, no fooling about and yet you disobey me again and again. Your ears really are just for decoration.”

You opened your mouth to protest but he carelessly cut you off: “I don’t care if they are your friends, you don’t need them. You just need me.”

Upon that you fell silent and closed your eyes in hopelessness as you waited for your punishment to commence. When do pain came after a minute of silence you dared to open your eyes and glance back.

Seeing that you were focused on him, Levi cleared his throat as if to say “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Then you remember and with a great amount of shame you bared your bottom and meekly requested: “Please Levi, my love, spank me thoroughly.”

As usual, it sickened you that he made you ask to be punished. It was his way of normalizing and justifying his abuse. And conditioning you.

A dark chuckle rumbled in his throat as he grabbed you by the nap as he pressed you against his desk. “There is a good little pet”, he whispered as leather made contact with your supple flesh. 

This man has a difficult time warming up to people. All the agony of losing those that meant the world to him repeatedly has caused him to become cold and reserved. That means that in his mind, you should view it as a privilege that you are the love of his life. Because of that, he won’t accept rejection. Also, since he hasn’t had somebody really close to him in ages, he will be very clingy and overprotective. The world has the habit of robbing him, so you won’t allow you to be stolen as well. Not to forget that he is a man of action – being passive or also relying on words to solve situations just isn’t his style. 

Your skin was on fire due to his ministrations, or rather because of the disgust they evoked. The arm around your waist that pressed you against him made you want to claw at his skin and his lips against the tender skin of your neck made you want to throttle him.

Yet you knew that it was just wishful thinking. Engaging in such protest would be futile since he was stronger and quicker than you.

“Look here Levi, I told you…”, you tried to reason with him but he just silenced your objection:

“Shush, sweetheart. Don’t ruin the moment.”

Then he resumed kissing your neck and collar bone, sometimes tugging at your skin with teeth in order to cause bruises. You tensed as his free hand snaked down your leg and hooked itself under your knee.

The captain is a military man and fairly intelligent. He knows how to deal with an enemy, how to assess their strengths and weaknesses and how to keep them contained. And also, how to best combat them and capture them. He really is the worst opponent you could meet on the battlefield.

So how to evade him? You take him off the battlefield, place him in a situation where aggression can’t help him achieve his goals. He is a military man, as said before, so he is accustomed to low context communication – words must be direct, and you must mean what you say so that they are no muck-ups. Little conversation and more orders and demands. Levi doesn’t have a silver tongue to begin with, quite the contrary actually.

That means he cares a bit for codes, since they are of use to him in his branch of expertise. But he cares little for symbolism since he has categorised that as sappy nonsense reserved for romantics. So, you have an avenue to express yourself that he won’t catch up on unless somebody explicitly told him what it meant. Consider yourself lucky, it is exactly this that will prevent you from going insane.

“Flowers? Again?”, he gruffly asked.

It made you look up from the novel you were reading to see him eyeing the tansy and peonies that you had placed in a vase on the nightstand.

You had to suppress a smirk and work to keep the self-satisfaction out of your voice as you meekly inquired: “They are there to give a bit more colour to the room. I can always put them away if you want.”

You were being obedient to him for a change and that was why he decided to allow you a few luxuries. Besides, since you were so affectionate in the past two months, why shouldn't he return it with gestures of his own.

“Keep them. I’ll just never understand why you like them so much”, he answered and then stalked over to the bathroom. Of course he would never comprehend it, with his spartan and austere tastes, just like you would never understand that the small yellow flowers meant ‘I declare war on you!’ or that the orange lilies that had been there a few days ago actually proclaimed your hatred for him.

Hopefully, he would never find out.

Intelligence doesn’t automatically mean that he is omnipotent or that he is an all-powerful overlord. It just means that he is quick to comprehend tactics and strategies and devise his own. He isn’t immune to mistakes. So, when he ropes you in, in his games, you have to play a wholly different game of your own if you want to get out. Military, remember? There are many walks of life that he is unfamiliar with, many possibilities for you to escape his clutches that he wouldn’t even account for.

Giddily, you smiled at yourself in the mirror. You barely recognized yourself, with all the paint and heavy cloth that decorated your body. Levi didn’t either, just how it was supposed to be.

You had spotted him in the audience as you had pranced about the stage, looking very disgruntled at not having you by his side or locked up in his quarters. Even you had heard the rumours of how a few days ago he had flown into a frenzy, searching high and low for something.

You were one of the few that knew it was someone and that someone was you. Knowing him as well as you did, you made the fair guess that he also wasn’t here by his own volition, rather his comrades had dragged him here in an attempt to distract him.

And you also knew that had looked everywhere he presumed you to be – in the forest, somewhere tucked away in his estate, in the taverns and at the city borders and at the docks. Just not amongst the theatre troop.

That would probably stay that way, and you could use the opportunity to escape him.  

Adding to the fact that he is bad at expressing himself like a normal human being, he is also very emotional underneath that stoic veneer. In combat situations, he has an outlet for all his pent-up emotions. Else you have to suffer his outbursts and mood swings. Nonetheless, the world isn’t a gigantic battlefield and if the right buttons are pushed, he could lose it at exactly the wrong time and place. Levi would lose badly at the game favoured in the royal courts of provoking-the-other-until-they-embarrass-themselves.

Levi was very close to unleashing his unholy rage and as a precaution, you had taken to stepping out of range. While you found the whole situation very amusing, you didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire.

“…however, since you come short on some things, I don’t expect you to understand that. Should I repeat what I said, in bitesize chunks  so that you don’t lag behind this time”, the nobleman prattled while he looked down on your “lover”.

Said man pressed through gritted teeth: “You filthy swine, go stuff all your pretty words up your ass.”

The noble emitted a fake gasp and murmured aghast: “You really are so crass. The rumours of you being a dwarf barbarian are true.”

That was the last straw for Levi. In the following minutes, a small crowd gathered to see what the commotion was all about and it ended in the guards having to restrain him. Really, it was hypocritical of the Ackerman to threaten you about causing a scene when he was the one prone to temper tantrums.

[thevividgreenmoss]

My grandfather was awake and lucid for a longish while between late Friday night and Saturday morning apparently first time since this past Sunday when we all thought that was It and crammed ourselves seven people in one sedan that got a flat on the way over of course (as we were leaving the handle of the screen door came off in my hand as I was closing it behind me so the vibe was very on the nose things farcically falling apart that whole goddamn day lol) but then when we made it he was smiling and laughing and talking to and teasing everyone that was there, albeit with much more effort than it would have taken him even just a week earlier when he was already in a really frail state because of his hip surgery. My sister happened to be up later than she usually ever is and got to video call and chat with him for a bit I wanted terribly for my cousin in Colorado to be able to also but by the time he could get through my grandpa's blood pressure had suddenly spiked or something and he'd drifted back into that borderline unconscious state so they didn't get a chance to talk which makes me want to claw my fucking skin off of my face but who knows maybe another opportunity will present itself hopefully it does like he suddenly became really talkative and energized the other day after not having said more than maybe a couple sentences over the few previous days like I was there with him for several hours on Thursday and the entire time he didn't say a word and only opened his eyes once for like half a second and even that I might have been imagining after sitting there sleep-deprived and holding his hand trying not to cry because then my mom would start crying and then my aunt and on and on and if he's conscious at that point he'll start to get worried and his heart rate will destabilize but after that for this one stretch without anyone expecting it he was really talkative and alert and joking around with the nurses and doctors and all that for a while but then later yesterday afternoon he started to get disoriented and drift in and out of the present in between dreaming and waking again at one point apparently he kept saying 'look at my shoes' to my mom and her sisters and they thought it was just just the medication/pain-induced delirium talking but he kept insisting and eventually said 'you're not taking me seriously' and I guess gave up? Or said it a few more times I'm not clear on the course of events I only heard all this secondhand when my younger aunt, who also got diagnosed with cancer late last year but thankfully is more or less in the clear now, got back home last night and she and I went into his room and took all the shoes out of the cabinet he keeps them in and like looked inside and turned over and examined the soles of every pair, took the cushion insert things out of the ones that had them, checked for scooby doo-esque hidden doors, all that but there was nothing there just shoes. Her kids flew back out yesterday morning, the older one's tentatively returning to Toronto in the next week or so she had a painfully rough time in some ways her first couple of years and then abruptly had to be uprooted and leave because of covid then everything with her mom and in time honored eldest daughter tradition bearing the brunt of the familial frustration and insanity associated with that and now everything with our grandpa I really really want her senior year to go smoothly and be enjoyable and memorable in a manner opposite to how this past year+ has been I'm so worried about her and her little sister's starting freshman year there in the fall and I'm terribly worried about her in a whole different way like she's still really attached to her parents in this innocent way that still strongly resembles like a baby's adoring my mom hung the moon type attachment and it can be especially hard being away for the first time ever when that's the case...like she's hyper hypersensitive even by my family's standards lmao but she does have this sort of self-possession and inner groundedness that no one can quite pin down but it's

definitely there and maybe that

could carry her through I really hope so...they were saying to come up to visit them in the fall hopefully I can find a job soon after returning to Texas and like be able to afford to do that and also like keep paying the bills and shit lol in either case I hope so so badly that they'll be okay like I think they will be the women in my family are all really strong but they've also had to be because of various fucked circumstances and I don't want that to keep having to be the case...my grandpa's a Strong Woman in a certain way also honestly lmao like my mom's aunts have always been like your father raised you in a way beyond even most mothers which like who fucking receives let alone genuinely deserves that kind of praise from their in-laws lmao let alone a man from a notoriously patriarchal culture of a generation when fathers from any culture barely had any involvement in their children's upbringing at all which I mean most still don't but even more so back then and like literally everyone we've been hearing from or seeing drop by at the hospital has a story of how at one point or another my grandpa was there for them when no one else was like distant cousins variously removed and loose family friends all with something about how he comforted me when no one else could, I remember word for word what he said to me when I suffered some loss of my own, he's the strongest man in our family, the best times we ever had were when he was near us, when he'd take us out, his youngest brother's children saying he cared for and spoiled them as if their were his own after their dad died suddenly when they were just kids, my mom's third cousin whose own father was with her till a late age saying that he was even more of a father to me than my own father, his other brother's son who was ostracized for decades by his immediate family on some straight up racist ass bullshit on the part of his mom and older brother because he married a black woman but my grandpa stayed in touch and made sure my mom and uncle did as well and made sure we all got together when he'd came to the states, like even now lying there on what very well might be his literal deathbed when he can barely talk he was telling my uncle he's worried about him and he needs to go home and rest, asking who's taking care of the house, are the kids all okay even at this point his thoughts are for others. After I put his shoes back in the cabinet I closed it and opened the one beside just in case I guess just in case what I don't know but it was just like standard cabinet stuff clothes a shaving kit and a couple of what I assume are photo albums that I didn't feel like I should open for some reason and a few old books, a collection of Ghalib's which I can't really read very easily if at all because it's in Urdu lol, a history of government college of Lahore where his father was teaching at the time of his death and the two philosophy textbooks my great grandfather had written himself, Inductive & Deductive Reasoning, and inside the latter I found a handful of yellowed pages torn out of an old notebook upon which mostly seem to be translations of french poems and I think maybe a song or two? I guess old coursework or just for funsies I'm not sure whether written by my grandfather or his own father. My khala was mentioning just the other day that she'd kept one of my grandpa's old notebooks marked as having been designated for biology but inside it were no actual notes just urdu poetry which she wasn't sure whether it was his own original tossed off work or something the lifelong frustrated creative transcribed while bored in class. The night I got here I was looking through his bookshelves after everyone had gone to bed and then a couple of weeks ago I was sitting in the living room by myself watching archer when my cousin came and sat down next to me upset and unable to sleep on her own first night here and I held her and tried not to cry and then went through the same bookshelves again, this time with my cousin who we came to Pakistan for the first time after moving to the US

to see being born who turned three

the day we arrived on what until this current trip was the last time I was here her little sister having just been born earlier that same year (whose life I may or may not have saved when I caught her after she was dropped by the person holding her (the fact that (parentheticals within parentheticals!) I may or may not have been the one who dropped her in the first place is immaterial imo not that I'm the one on trial here but what's important is that I caught her and if anything this would be an even more athletically impressive and frankly heroic incident if I'd been the one that was holding her to begin with since I was 8/9 years old at the time and there wasn't much of a distance for her to fall and yet I kept her from hitting the ground like talk about reflexes like that's what's important and what's more important than even that @ my year older cousin (whose younger sister was the first baby in the family after myself whose arrival in this world when I was three had me positively giddy in the way that young children get when witnessing the miracle of even younger children, who's the only other one of the cousins that's been here during all this, just me and the three I got to see as darling little babies) who was the only other person in the room with me at the time, is that we take this to our fucking graves no one can hear a word of this least of all any adults in the house who like not that they're the ones on trial here either but like who allowed for this scenario to transpire in the first place where two children and an infant are in a room by themselves unsupervised in retrospect that's somewhat irresponsible not that I'd ever hold it against them or even mention it because then they might get mad and not let me hold my little cousin anymore and I do love holding my little baby cousin and carrying her around everywhere, mostly without incident)) neither of whom I'd see in person again until we visited them in Canada the summer after I graduated college the trip during which I finished the last of the Neapolitan novels the day after landing and turned 22 the day after their mother, my younger khala, turned 43, looking through my nana's bookshelves with my baby cousin no longer a baby but a U of T classics major entering her senior year, noting the overlaps with our own, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, George Eliot, the same exact copies of Cheever and Kafka's collected shorts, Umberto Eco, Proust, wondering what the various titles meant to him or what they might say about him, wondering how much of even the version of him that can be hypothesized based off his library I'm missing now that I'm limited to the much reduced version of what had been in his old home in Lahore (when he visited us after my junior year of hs and my mom was trying to convince him to downsize and move in with my other aunt with whom he's been living the past several years, the one who most resembles my grandfather the only one that has his cheekbones my khala whose eyes have sunken all the way into her skull before my eyes with exhaustion and grief over the past two weeks, when my mom was like what's the point of just hanging onto a bunch of books that you've already read: I look at them [dramatic pause], and I feel happy [my mom sighing equally dramatically in.exasperation, me cracking up in the background]) the city I was born in the house where I spent the first almost five years of my life before we moved to the US to join my dad who'd moved back shortly after my mom became pregnant with what turned out to be me, abu nana's house with the garden we'd walk through every morning holding his hand and following along as he puttered around with his plants in the garden in the house in the city he had to leave to move into my khala's house in Islamabad where I've been the past almost a month now where two weeks ago he suddenly came down with pneumonia and had to be dragged to a hospital in Rawalpindi where he's been since, not in his house, my nana's house, with the garden in the city I haven't seen since the last time I was in this country the

summer I

turned nine the day after my khala turned 30 the day before my other khala turned 32(?) the summer I first remember obsessive compulsive disorder becoming an overwhelming aspect of my consciousness although it was there before, the first summer of the Iraq war and being terrified watching the Iraq war unfold on the BBC evening news my nana would turn on

at dinner time and hearing for the first time or maybe just the first time I remember the night we left the phrase 'the rich will get richer and the poor will get poorer' from my younger khala talking to her sisters and some family friends that had come over to see us off feeling terrified and cold then embarrassed because she noticed my face visibly fall from across the room and told my mom and I was like godammit everyone knows I'm scared now smhead then crying the entire flight back home because I missed everyone and maybe had a little kid premonition that I wouldn't return to my nana's house and I would be years and years till I saw any of them again some I still haven't or maybe there was nothing premonitory about it but in either case that's the way it turned out. I do feel grateful I got to see him again at all, when he last came to the US late 2016-early 2017 I was sure it would be the last time we would be in the same room. I'd make breakfast for us every morning and we'd eat together and the entire day I'd sit next to him inhaling secondhand smoke and talking and reading. I was in the midst of my initial aborted attempt to read Swann's way when he arrived. I'd gotten to Guermantes way last summer but I couldn't find a secondhand copy so I had to read it via ebook and that didn't feel right so I abandoned it until now I've been reading a copy pulled from his bookshelf. Last he visited was the first time I learned we were both Garcia Marquez-heads which I'd kind of assumed before and I showed him Mad Men which he heavily fucked with and also every John Le Carre adaptation I could track down online. From the first time I read one hundred years of solitude the summer after freshman year of college the passage describing Colonel Aureliano Buendia's death already absolutely and unbearably heartwrenching enough immediately brought thoughts of my grandfather, aching aching sorrow over the solitude that he himself existed within in all the fucking pain his life has been inordinately filled with grief over the knowledge of this inevitable final separation from him after so many years and so much distance already having separated him from the people he loved and cared for and he loved and cared for so many people so deeply with such sincerity and beauty and endless endless warmth and compassion and humor when Gabo wrote of the colonel trying to reach back through to his memories and being unable to after previously recalling that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice even years later, as he faced the firing squad, at the moment of his death like a 'baby chick' my poor frail beautiful grandfather appearing exactly the same way when he'd take off his dentures and curl over to the side to sleep, then when awake but still half asleep hearing your voice having brought his apple cider vinegar and garlic concoction or a cup of tea or just coming by to hold his hand or play with his beard the way all of his grandchildren have at one point or another and smiling with his eyes still closed smiling bright and wide the expression of a precious little cat purring as you scratch under its chin always the most beautiful smile and even as his hair turned white and his body withered and wrinkled and shrunk his cheekbones while still not bad long ago ceased being the way they were in that picture from his wedding day back when he he looked like young Robert De Niro's much much prettier Kashmiri cousin from then until now always that same radiance and those same quick-witted and kind and bright bright bright sparkling eyes. The past month and a half I've been feeling like I'm seeing my own mother dying before my eyes along with her father, my adorable beloved abu nana, I can't even begin to comprehend how she must be feeling right now I feel like I'm witnessing her death in advance through all of this and losing the part of her that is him even though I know that's not actually the case. Things have been so fucking painful and complicated between us but the one thing we've shared that's never

been painful is our love for him. When he left after his last visit four years ago I spent the next two days barely able to even talk. Compliments or like any positive comments directed in my directions have almost always caused me this reflexive discomfort and uneasiness but whenever he or anyone else would say that I'm his favorite grandchild I'd want to hold on to that as closely as i possibly can. I don't want him to leave us and more than that I want for whatever happens to at least happen with him back at home but neither of those things seem likely right now although who the fuck knows. I hope his last thoughts can be of flowers, like Kafka's, and Lispector's, or of love, wherever he is I hope it's not asking too much to hope for that at least. For someone that spent his life so deeply immersed within that Garciamarquesian solitude he never made those around him feel any way other than at home, safe and warm and loved and adored and adorable and lovable and at home not because of a place not even the garden at the house in Lahore but with him always always I've never felt more at home than during the times I spent near him, and his love and his flowers

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Sunset Swerve - Part 5

Pairing: Luke x OC

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: swearing, partial nudity (the mooning scene in episode 4)

A/N: With this chapter we are all the way through with episode 4 and partially into episode 5! This is a longer one again but I really wanted to end this chapter where I did so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Also, on an entirely unrelated note: Happy Ace/Aro Awareness Week! As always, please let me know what you think and send me a message if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Part 4  Masterlist

___

“I got the music mm mm mm,” Julie hummed, dancing slightly to the music pumping through her headphones as she made her way to her locker.

Jordan grinned, following behind her. She’d been bored that morning and she and Luke had gotten in another meaningless spat so she had decided to find Julie at school. She probably should’ve made her presence known earlier but Julie had been in such a zone that she didn’t want to interrupt; she really did have the music.

She didn’t say anything until Flynn arrived.

“It’s nice to see you back to your weirdo self,” the black girl said sincerely and Julie laughed.

“Thanks?” Julie laughed and Flynn grinned.

“How’s the band? Still hot? Still talented?” Flynn asked before leaning in closer and whispering, “Still dead?”

“Good, yes, yes, and rude!” Jordan answered, gasping dramatically at the last one and Julie jumped in surprise, whirling around to face the dark-haired ghost who was leaning against the neighboring locker.

“What are you doing here?” She hissed and Flynn’s eyes widened.

“Wait are they here?!” Flynn gasped, sounding slightly embarrassed by her previous statement.

“Ohh, right, it looks like you’re talking to no one, sorry.” Jordan apologized, moving to stand between Julie and Flynn, forming a sort of half-circle around the open locker.

“It’s just Jordan,” Julie explained to her friend and she nodded.

“Hey Jordan!” She waved at the now empty space that the ghost had been in and Julie and Jordan laughed.

“She’s over here,” Julie explained, pointing to what appeared to be empty air between them. “Anyway, the band are amazing. Luke, Jordan, and I spent the whole weekend writing songs.”

“Hell yeah we did!” Jordan cheered.

“Do you wanna hear them?” Julie asked, laughing at her ghostly friend.

“Duh!” Flynn gasped excitedly and the girls exchanged grins.

Jordan followed them through the halls to the band room, trying to get used to the layout of the school. When they arrived the room was empty and Julie made a beeline for the piano bench, Flynn leaning on the opposite side. Jordan opted to sit on the piano, something she hadn’t been allowed to do when alive because of the fragility of the instrument, however, as a ghost she was made of air and therefore weighed nothing.

“Ooh, please play Great!” Jordan begged, settling herself in a cross-legged position as Julie lifted the piano cover.

Julie laughed but complied, “Okay, so here’s a bit of the chorus of the first song we wrote,” She told Flynn before beginning the piano part.

“Cause we’re standing on the edge of great,” she belted and Jordan jumped in with some back-up vocals.

“On the edge of great” Flynn jumped in surprise when Jordan materialized on the piano in front of her. Jordan grinned and sent a wink to the girl before continuing to belt alongside Julie.

“Great,”

“On the edge of great,”

“Great,”

“On the edge of great,”

“Cause we’re standing on the edge of great,” they harmonized the last line together.

“Wow! I like it!” Flynn complimented and Jordan beamed. “Definite Gaga vibes.”

“Thanks!” Julie smiled and Jordan frowned, confused.

She leaned back on the piano to whisper to Julie, “What’s ‘Gaga’?”

Julie laughed. “She’s a famous singer.”

“You don’t know who Gaga is?” Flynn gasped and Jordan shrugged.

“I died in ’95, dude.”

“We’ll educate you.” She stated and Julie laughed but nodded.

“I think we have an anthem with this next one, it was something my mom and I were working on.”  Flynn gave her a sympathetic smile. “Luke and I finished it. Check it out.”

“And it’s one, two, three, four times that I tried for one more night, light a fire in my eyes,” Julie sang and Jordan came in on the harmonies in the last line, “I’m going out of my mind.”

“That’s… That’s beautiful,” Flynn said sincerely and Jordan nodded in agreement before vanishing once more as the performance was over. “And my girl’s got a crush and his name is Luke.”

Jordan just about did a spit take without any water at the revelation.

“What! No!” Julie protested, staring eyes-wide at Jordan as if trying to convince her. “Luke’s a ghost.”

“A cute ghost.” Jordan snapped her fingers and pointed at Flynn for the point.

“With a perfect smile,” Julie admitted and Jordan snorted.

“Ha! I knew it!” Flynn cheered. “Just remember he’s made of air.”

“Cute air,” Julie shrugged.

“Just… don’t get hurt,” Flynn warned and Jordan’s heart warmed at the girls’ friendship.

Julie nodded to reassure her before turning to Jordan, with a look of concern. “Is that okay?”

“What? That you have a crush on Luke?” Jordan repeated, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed in confusion. “Just because I hate him doesn’t mean everyone has too!”

“I’m serious Jordan,” Julie insisted and Jordan frowned, “There’s a thin line between love and hate.”

“And it is a line I am careful not to cross it.” Jordan was firm and Julie shrugged, dropping it.

She shook her head amusedly at the girl before turning back to Flynn and filling her in.

“Anyway, it’s obvious you guys have a connection,” Flynn spoke. “Everybody’s been wondering when you’re playing again.”

“Play again? We don’t even have anything planned. We’ve just been focused on writing songs!” Julie protested but Flynn grinned conspiratorially.

“Luckily, your new market team has your back,” she smirked and Jordan’s jaw dropped as she connected the dots.

“Flynn, you didn’t!” She gasped, however, Julie was still confused.

“We don’t have a marketing team.”

“You do now,” Flynn grinned, pulling a flyer out of her backpack and handing it across the piano to Julie.

Jordan scooted over the top of the piano to get a look at the flyer, having to lean over and read it upside down.

“Julie and her Hologram Band?” Julie read aloud and Jordan grinned.

“Cute,” she muttered.

“You’re playing the school dance tonight!”

“Our first real gig! Flynn you’re a goddess!” Jordan squealed, jumping up to go squeeze the girl, her excitement waning only slightly when her arms just went right through the living girl. “I gotta go tell the guys!”

___

“We have our first gig!” She shouted when she materialized in the garage.

“We have a gig?” Reggie gasped, jumping up from his chair excitedly.

“Yes!!” Jordan yelled and before she knew it they were both yelling, holding hands, and jumping up and down in the middle of the garage.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Luke asked tiredly, interrupting them as he stepped through the garage door.

“We have a gig!” Reggie told him, the pair having stopped jumping to face the other ghost.

“We have a gig?” Luke’s jaw dropped.

“Yes!!” Jordan and Reggie answered in unison, the two ghosts nearly buzzing in excitement.

“We have a gig!” He shouted, finally getting on their level of excitement, and Reggie and Jordan echoed his words in their own shouts.

All of a sudden the three were bouncing around and screaming again, Jordan having jumped up onto the coffee table to scream the news to the sky.

“We need to practice!” She gasped, and the shouting stopped. Reggie pointed at her to affirm her statement and nodded.

“Let’s get to it. There are some Sunset Curve songs we can play,” Luke said, sliding on his guitar and immediately getting to business.

“I can pick up the missing rhythm guitar part,” Jordan offered, and Luke tossed her his music journal.

“First earmarked page,” he instructed and she nodded, flipping it open and looking it over.

___

“A school dance!” Luke repeated in shock before turning to Jordan, “You didn’t tell us it was a school dance.”

“Oh get off your high horse, Mr. We Play Bookclubs,” Jordan rolled her eyes and Julie nodded.

“Jordan’s right,” Julie agreed and the ghost in question smirked triumphantly. “This’ll be a good opportunity to build a following.”

“Yeah, we need to play whenever we can, wherever we can,” Reggie added.

“You guys are right,” Luke nodded. “Let’s rock those kids’ faces off, then play the clubs.”

“And then record a single that gets a billion streams,” Julie continued.

“I don’t know what that means but hopefully it gets us a manager and a tour.”

“And then we release a bunch of hit albums.”

“Put out a country album that does surprisingly well,” Reggie chimed in and the others turned to look at him funny. “What? I shred on the banjo.”

“Ooh! I play the fiddle!” Jordan gasped excitedly and Reggie grinned at her.

“And before you know it, we’re being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame!” Luke brushed past, sending them a judgmental look.

“Ooh! But one of us isn’t there,” Reggie said, “Because we had a blowout in 2032! My money’s on Jordan, just cause… y’know.” He shrugged awkwardly.

“Nah, that’s valid,” Jordan brushed him off with a shrug of her own.

“So what’re we waiting for?” Luke asked, filling the silence that had fallen upon them after Reggie’s comment. “Let’s get to work!”

“Uh, where’s Alex?” Julie asked, pointing out the blond ghost’s absence.

“Oh, he’s with his ghost friend,” Reggie answered and Jordan wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Alright, well, I guess we can get started without him?” Julie said, unsure but the ghosts all grabbed their instruments.

The three ghosts gathered around Julie’s keyboard, Luke counting them off into the first song. Even without their drummer, it was a productive practice, Stand Tall and Great were really starting to shape up. They’d been running through the former when Alex walked through the door.

“Hey Alex!” Jordan greeted and Reggie waved.

“Where you been man?” Luke asked, skipping the greeting altogether. “We need to start practicing!”

“For what?”

As if she had heard Alex’s question, though they all knew that was impossible, Flynn walked in.

“Dance news!” She exclaimed, “I don’t have a date. But, I don’t care because I’m so psyched to see you perform!”

“Aw, we’re playing a school dance?” Alex whined.

“What do you guys have against school dances?” Jordan asked, equal parts exasperated and curious. “Is it cause you’re all dropouts or…?”

Luke glared at her before explaining to Alex, “Dances are how we get a following nowadays.”

“Yeah, c’mon Alex, get with the program,” Julie teased and Flynn lit up.

“The guys are here?” Flynn asked, eyes wide.

“And Jordan!” Reggie added, pouting on her behalf.

“It’s 2020, ‘guys’ is a non-gendered term now,” Jordan informed and Reggie nodded, his mouth going to an ‘O’ shape and Alex nodded affirmatively.

“Aw, Jordan, you’re one of the guys now,” Luke said sarcastically, insincerity dripping from his tone, and Jordan stuck her tongue out at him. “Anyway, now that Alex has graced us with his presence, can we start working?”

Apparently, they couldn’t start working. In addition to the previous distractions, Julie’s little brother walked in to make an attempt on their lives. The boy threw salt around the room, claiming it burnt the souls of ghosts. Luckily he was a hack or they might’ve lost Alex. With Flynn gone to distract Carlos in the house, Jordan thought they might actually get to rehearse for their first official gig.

“Alright, let’s get back to it,” Julie said and Jordan nodded, moving back to her spot in the setup but Luke stalled them again.

“Yeah but remind me later, we have some Sunset Curve songs we want to show you.”

“Ooh, show me now!” Julie insisted and Luke grinned at the attention and interest.

Oh, that crush is gonna go right to his head, Jordan thought to herself with a sigh.

“‘Home is Where My Horse Is,’” Luke read as he pulled a piece of music out of his song notebook, “Reggie, I told you to stop putting your country songs in my journal.”

“Hey, that was a gift!” Reggie protested.

“Yes, it was,” Jordan affirmed, snatching the song out of Luke’s hand and examining it herself, “Ooh, we are gonna work on this, buddy.”

Reggie brightened and Luke rolled his eyes, handing the journal to Julie with instructions to check out the dog eared pages.

“Who’s Emily?” She asked as she flipped through the pages.

The ghost band froze while Luke lunged for the notebook. “That one’s not dog-eared!”

“‘If you could only know, I’d never let you go,’” she read teasingly completely misreading the song and the situation, “I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Luke.”

“He’s not,” Alex piped up, and Jordan felt simultaneously more and less stiff. “That one’s about-“

“No one.” Luke cut him off harshly and the whole subject was dropped immediately but the thick tension still remained. “If you go to the next page, I got a tune with a killer beat.”

He stepped away from the keyboard and picked his guitar back up and started playing the main riff.

“So you wanna sample.” Julie shrugged.

“Sample?” Luke asked, and the group gathered around the keyboard again.

“Yeah, sample someone else’s music,” Julie explained. “My mom and I used to sing that song at the top of our lungs in the car, it’s a classic Trevor Wilson song.”

“Uh, no,” Luke said. “It’s a classic our song.”

“Nuh-uh, I don’t mix up songs,” Julie insisted, pulling up her laptop. “I used to be best friends with his daughter, I know his music. Here, look, his first album had a bunch of hits but his more recent stuff isn’t as good.”

Julie turned her computer around and the ghosts froze, all of them recognizing the photo covering half the screen.

“Isn’t that…” Jordan whispered and the guys nodded.

“That’s Bobby,” Luke confirmed and Julie huffed.

“I just told you his name is Trevor Wilson.”

“Yeah, that’s great, then he changed it, okay?” Alex said, bouncing on the balls of his feet lightly as his anxiety kicked up. “Cause that’s Bobby, he was our rhythm guitarist.”

“Trevor Wilson was in your band?” Julie said skeptically but she was ignored by the guys who were still obsessing over their old bandmate.

“He looks like a substitute teacher,” Alex spat and Jordan couldn’t help the laugh she let out.

The guys all turned to glare at her for making light of this situation and she apologized quickly, looking down at her shoes.

“What’re his hits?” Luke finally asked quietly and Julie began to list them off, each one a Sunset Curve song.

Luke made his way to the back of the garage, throwing darts aggressively at the dartboard hanging on the wall. Jordan looked between the boys nervously as they coped with this news.

“Wait, this is… this is freaking me out,” Julie spoke, having a crisis of her own. “Trevor’s songs are kinda big to me. He introduced me to rock.”

“Yeah, Luke introduced you to rock,” Jordan sighed.

“Back when Carrie and I were friends, the three of us used to talk about music all the time,” Julie spoke, readdressing the guys, “He never mentioned you guys.”

“And that’s unbelievable!” Luke protested and everyone nodded. “I mean, he takes all the credit and he doesn’t even mention us?”

“Well, he was always kind of a self-righteous asshole,” Jordan pointed out.

“He’s rich too,” Julie informed them sadly, pulling up another set of pictures on her laptop. “He even has a helicopter with his face on it.”

The ghosts all gravitated back to the computer perched on the keyboard to see the photo. It was really an outrageous use of money, Jordan thought, to put your face on a helicopter. It was disgusting, it didn’t even look good.

“Where does he live?” Luke asked, bouncing slightly due to the magnitude of his anger.

“Above the beach in Malibu,” Julie shared defeatedly and the three boys shared a look before vanishing.

“Can you look up any of my songs?” Jordan asked quietly, wondering what had happened to her own legacy.

The ghost rattled them off, none of them showing up in the search and she breathed out a sigh of relief, though she also was a little upset. She was grateful that none of her previous bandmates had betrayed her posthumously like Bobby had, but she could help but be sad that Apollo 81 didn’t go on to fame without her. Instead, it appeared that the band broke up completely after her death.

“Alright, well, at least there’s that,” she muttered softly before poofing out herself.

____

“Moss, why are you here?” Luke spat when she appeared and she rolled her eyes.

“I’ve grown soft in death,” she sighed dramatically, leaning against the glass banister. “You all seem to have forgotten that I didn’t just hate your band out of principle. That asshole,” she jerked her thumb towards the top of the stairs where ‘Trevor’ had just disappeared, “Was always a condescending dick to me. And besides, I thought bandmates had each other’s backs, right?”

Luke narrowed his eyes but Alex and Reggie mustered up genuine smiles for the girl.

“Right,” Luke needed, “Welcome aboard, Moss. Now let’s go haunt his stealing ass.”

Jordan and Reggie whooped as they followed Luke up the stairs.

“Wait!” Alex called and they all stopped to peer at him, “It’s just my first time haunting someone, I wanna make it special.”

They all gave him various looks of shock and disbelief, each clearly portraying how weird of a statement that was.

“Yeah, I hear it,” Alex sighed, answering their unspoken questions. “Okay…”

They found Bobby in probably one of the most rich-white-guy rooms Jordan had ever seen. He was meditating, just like he had told Carrie he would be but the practice and the room reeked of Hollywood’s insincere obsession with Eastern cultures. This was going to be way too much fun, Jordan thought before the ‘haunting” began. They caused all kinds of chaos: blowing out candles, starting the CD player and the shower, and topping it all off with Reggie writing “Hello Bobby” in the fog on the bathroom mirror and Alex trapping him in the room. They followed the grown man as he ran down the stairs and into his helicopter.

“Quick! Let’s moon him before he gets away!” Reggie suggested as the watched the chopper take off from the pool deck.

Jordan rolled her eyes while Luke grinned, both boys already reaching for their belt buckles.

“He can’t see us,” Alex protested and Luke laughed.

“Oh, it’s not for him bro,” he explained and Alex shrugged. “C’mon Moss, drop trou.”

“Oh, absolutely not.” She said, crossing her arms.

“What happened to bandmates having each other’s backs?” He dared, throwing her words back at her.

She narrowed her eyes but reached for the button of her pants, never one to back down from a challenge, especially not one from Luke Patterson. They all laughed as they wiggled their bare asses at the helicopter but the moment ended quickly as Julie stalked outside towards them.  

“So, did you guys have fun in there?” Julie asked rhetorically, crossing her arms angrily as the ghosts pulled their pants back into place.

“Okay, you would’ve done the exact same thing if he stole all your songs,” Luke protested, matching her outrage.

“But you have new songs, with me, and with Jordan,” Julie argued. “The best way to get back at him is for this band to do great. And for this band to do great we need to play dances, then clubs,”

“And then tours, I know,” Luke finished apologetically.

“I’ll see you guys at the school,” Julie sighed, “We go on at nine. Please don’t be late, there’s gonna be a lot of people there.”

“We got it, alright? Don’t worry,” Alex reassured and Julie nodded, heading back inside the house.

“I don’t care what Julie says, I’m glad we scared Bobby,” Reggie spoke up after a moment. “In fact, I wish we had done more. Maybe written ‘thief’ across his forehead!”

“And Alex, how did you shut the door?” Luke asked, amazed. “Yesterday you could barely open the garage door!”

“Learned that from your new friend Willie, didn’t you?” Reggie theorized and he and Jordan shared a knowing look.

“Yeah, he taught me some things and we screamed in a museum,” Alex shared gleefully, though a little shy, and Jordan awed at how cute it was. “…Long story,” he covered, not wanting to explain it.

“You think he has any other tricks up his sleeve?” Luke asked.

“Only one way to find out,” he shrugged.

When they reappeared they were in a park by the beach, not far from where two skateboarders were being ticketed.

“Hey, what’s up man!” Willie called as he boarded over, “You brought friends.”

“Yeah, these are my bandmates, Luke, Reggie, and Jordan,” Alex introduced and Willie alternated between bumping fists and forearms with the other ghosts.

“Cool, I’m Wille,” The long-haired ghost introduced himself, “So, did you guys come to learn some tricks?”

With a small flick of his wrist Willie set off the sirens on the cop vehicles, and the skaters scattered as the officers panicked. Just as easy as he turned them on, Willie turned them back off and they watched as the cops huffed, realizing the skaters were long gone.

“Do it again! Do it again!” Reggie cheered, slapping Jordan’s arm excitedly.

“Actually, we were thinking something a little bigger,” Luke said, sliding slightly in front of Reggie. “An old bandmate stole our songs and we wanna confront him.”

“Ah. Is this old bandmate of yours a lifer?” Willie asked and the other ghosts gave him a confused look at the terminology.

“Oh! ‘Lifer’ is fancy ghost slang for the living,” Alex chimed in and realization dawned on his bandmates’ faces and Reggie let out a quiet ‘ohhh.’

“Then yeah, he’s a lifer,” Reggie said, adding extra emphasis to the new term.

Willie’s face fell at the information.

“I’m sorry guys, even I don’t have the ability to make ghosts visible.”

The guys’ faces fell and Luke shoved his hands in his pockets, turning away from the group.

Jordan sighed defeatedly, “So much for that.”

“There is a ghost who might be able to help,” Wille finally said, obviously uncomfortable with their sadness. “I’ll take you to him. Meet me where Alex and I met at eight o’clock.”

The guys all nodded and Jordan smiled thankfully. Though she didn’t have an uncontrollable need to get revenge on Bobby, she couldn’t handle the guys’ moping over it.  

Willie poofed away not long after and the rest of the ghosts returned to the garage.

“We’ll only have an hour,” Jordan warned as they got ready for the night. “Remember, Julie said we go on at nine.”

She was currently sitting on the floor in front of the couch braiding her hair into a half-up style while the guys lounged around the garage, already changed into their outfits for the performance.

“It shouldn’t be a problem,” Luke said, leaning over to grab the eyeliner she had left on the coffee table. “If we even make it on time.”

She had managed to find some of her own belongings in the loft including some makeup, however, it had long since expired so Julie lent her some of her own. They figured it would be safe to share the products as it’s hard to get diseases from someone made of air and vice versa.

Jordan rolled her eyes at the comment, tying a small elastic around the second braid. “There. Finished and it’s only seven-thirty.”

“It only took you an hour,” Luke scoffed and Jordan rolled her eyes.

The hour had been spent picking out an outfit (she had opted to stick with her usual look of a cropped shirt, mom jeans, converse, and a flannel tied around her waist), borrowing makeup from Julie, applying said makeup, and then doing her hair. It was an hour reasonably spent, she thought, especially with the constant distractions from the ghost boys.

“I haven’t done makeup in twenty-five years,” Jordan shot back, “Excuse me if I’m a little rusty.”

She was. It had taken her several attempts to get the winged eyeliner down when she used to be able to get them reasonably symmetrical in one go while alive. She’d nearly thrown the pen across the room in her frustrations but remembered it was Julie’s so she couldn’t lose it.

“Whatever,” Luke said, sitting up from his position lounging across the couch and swinging his legs over to rest next to where Jordan was sitting. “So what’re we doing for the next half hour?”

Jordan made a show of picking up her book, waving it at the boy slightly to answer his question before opening it to pick up where she’d last left off. Luke groaned, reaching over to grab the book from her hands.

“Nuh-uh. Not cool, Patterson. Give it back.” Jordan scolded, reaching out for the book.

“Why can’t you do something more interesting,” While Luke was busy whining Jordan grabbed her book back from his hands.  

“Reading is interesting, though I know you wouldn’t know since you can’t read.”

“I can read!”

“Oh, my bad,” She feigned an apology, “I’ve just never seen you do it.”

“I read music all the time!”

Jordan just blinked at him for a moment.

“Yes, obviously, Luke.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m aware that you can read. Now can you let me read, please?”

Luke grumbled something under his breath that Jordan couldn’t be bothered to try to decipher before falling silent. Jordan smirked slightly at her victory and began reading but after a few minutes, she felt the couch shift behind her and could suddenly feel the ghost boy breathing on her neck.

“Do you mind?” She asked, turning to glare at him but nearly smashing their heads together, not realizing how close he was.

“Nope,” he said cheekily, popping the ‘p’ sound and continuing to read over her shoulder, “Who’s Annabeth?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Jordan muttered exasperatedly.

“She seems kind of stuck-up.”

“Patterson I swear if you don’t give me some space I will find a way to kill you again and it will be painful.”

“I’m just trying to read your book,” he pouted. “It seems interesting.”

“You can have it when I’m done,” she compromised. “You’re missing the whole beginning anyway.”

This seemed to be a good enough answer for the boy as he nodded before poofing to where Reggie and Alex were hanging out in the back of the garage. They stayed like that for the last half hour, no major spats between Luke and Jordan which was quite impressive given their track record, and Jordan was able to get through a couple chapters of her book. With the ability to get lost in her book, it felt like hardly any time had passed before they were all gathering around Alex to go meet Willie.

They didn’t stay on the Walk of Fame for long, Willie almost immediately teleporting them to the interior of one of the classiest looking buildings Jordan had ever seen. Multiple chandeliers hung from the ballroom ceiling and it seemed like nearly everything was lined with gold.

“I gotta go make sure everything’s cool, but I’ll be right back,” Willie said, heading down one of the hallways and leaving the four ghosts to look around.

“The Hollywood Ghost Club,” Jordan read a nearby plaque out loud.

“This place is creepy,” Reggie said, scrunching up his nose.

“Well, so are we,” Alex chimed in and they all leaned over the balcony railing, overlooking the ballroom.

It was packed with well-dressed people, all of them older than the teenage ghosts. Jordan looked down at her own outfit, fiddling with the sleeve of her green flannel.

“I think we’re a little overdressed,” Luke smirked, nudging Jordan with his elbow and she rolled her eyes but she felt comforted by his words.

Just then Willie reappeared, leading them down the grand staircase and into the ballroom with a dramatic flourish of his hand.

“Just so you know, we only have until nine. We’ve got a gig with Julie,” Alex explained and Willie nodded.

“No worries,” he reassured.

Willie was just explaining how the people in attendance were all lifers who had paid a lot for a glimpse at the afterlife when a sharply dressed man approached, offering to walk them to their table. They had front row seats for the stage and Jordan could tell they were all excited to see whatever performance would be occurring. Jordan also noticed the large clock hanging over the stage that read 8:30.

“Hey guys, I’m gonna head to the school to help Julie set up,” Jordan said, patting the back of the chair that was meant for her as the rest of the group sat down.

“You haven’t even seen the show,” Willie protested and Jordan smiled apologetically.

“What about confronting Bobby?” Luke asked, face hardened at the thought of the traitorous former bandmate.

“You guys can teach me everything you learn, right?” She said, smiling reassuringly at the boys. “Besides, I don’t want Julie sitting alone before our first gig, she’s probably super nervous.”

The boys nodded thoughtfully at that.

“Right. Don’t forget, we go on at nine.” Jordan said before poofing out.

She reappeared at the school. Julie was sitting backstage with a piece of equipment Jordan didn’t recognize.

“Jordan! You’re here!” Julie exclaimed and the ghost girl grinned. “Where are the guys?”

“I wanted to get here a little early, figured you could use the company,” she answered, trying to reassure the clearly nervous girl.

“They’ll be here though, they’re just wrapping something up with Alex’s ghost friend.”

Part 6

___

Taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23 @meangirlsx @angryknightstatesmantrash @onlygetaway @deni-gonzalez @advicefromnixxxx 

[lassieposting]

If you’re still doing the getting together ask could I request Saracen and Dexter???

I’m bored, so. Send me two (or more) characters for a headcanon on how I’d have them get together

god so. dexter can't stand saracen when they first meet.

like, dex is the second one in after erskine. So when he becomes one of what will eventually be the dead men, it's the original three - skulduggery, ghastly and hopeless - plus ravel. Dex is the youngest by a mile at 17 - he lies about his age to enlist - but he's scrappy and streetwise and has a relatively sensible head on his shoulders, so he's doing well as a soldier. Skulduggery was the one he was really itching to meet - the youngest general in 300 years, the miracle soldier, the living skeleton - but it's ghastly who actually brings him in, ghastly who saw a scared kid with the potential to be a warrior, ghastly who tried to convince him to go home and offered to teach him to box when he refused, ghastly who introduced him to the others.

Skulduggery does not have flames for eyes, does not glow with holy light and, as far as dexter can tell, does not have any extra special fancy magic nobody has ever seen before. A little bit of dexter is disappointed, but skulduggery is still the most intimidating person he's ever met - he only says four words to dexter the first time they meet: "You're in my way." - but dexter gets the impression that this is someone to whom bloody murder comes as naturally as blinking. His induction into the group is a gruelling three week mission to the scottish highlands, which he's fairly sure is supposed to put him off, but it doesn't.

And things go great, until saracen turns up.

Now, dexter has never really had much to do with The Aristos™ before, unless you count pickpocketing them and legging it with their valuables. But he knows that technically, both skulduggery and erskine come from very wealthy, landed families, and hes spent plenty of time with them, so he thinks he knows how rich people work. and like...yes, ravel has a tendency to be a bit stuffy and pompous, but the fact of the matter is that they've both spent over a century slumming it in the army - skug, especially, likes to lead from the front and lives the same way his men do. They've lost a lot of the inherent prejudices and snobbery that comes with being nobility in the 1700s. So nothing about either of them prepares him for saracen rue.

Saracen is your quintessential 1700s rich boy. He bought his commission - as opposed to skug, who enlisted with ghastly and came up through the ranks - and he arrives to meet with skug and corrival wearing a spotless uniform like a toy soldier in a shop window. His tent is obnoxiously elaborate, he has a wagon and horse to store it and his belongings, and the first thing he does is hand dex his bags like he expects him to set the tent up for him. Dexter looks at this gorgeous, glamorous man and then at skug - who wears battered leathers and gets into fistfights and sleeps outdoors with the rest of them without complaining, and wonders how on earth these two people came from the same sort of family

And - it's not that saracen intends to be offensive at all. He's very much attracted to dexter and wants him to like him. He's very jovial and friendly and he even makes skug laugh on occasion, which is a superpower in and of itself in the post-death, pre-vile days. But he's also kind of entitled and tends to be a bit superior, and he's one of those people who just...talk, and don't necessarily think too much about how what they say will sound before saying it.

For example: the case of the lost necklace. As a young boy, Dexter pickpocketed a locket from a distracted young nobleman, and gifted it to his mother, so she could feel like a lady. When he signed up to fight, his mother gave him the locket to wear and made him promise to bring it back to her when the war was over. During one mission Dexter ends up spending the night with saracen in his stupid fancy tent, and when they're postcoitally lazing, saracen mentions that he recognises the locket, a gift he'd bought for his sister - he knows the inscription written inside. Dexter is mortified, but saracen shrugs it off and casually reveals that when he'd realised it was gone, he'd simply commissioned another one. "You can keep it," he says magnanimously, before making a very off-colour joke about how after that performance, dexter certainly earned it. Dex, who has had to sell sex a few times to put food in his siblings' mouths, does not take this well, and things are complicated for a while - he's frosty, but saracen seems to like that, and they keep ending up in bed together and then bickering and ignoring each other and then repeating the cycle.

They have moments of tenderness, though - occasional at first, and then more often as the years go by. Saracen teaches Dexter to read and write, and learns how to scrap and play knucklebones in return. They drink together and tend to each other's wounds and try to figure out what the fuck is going on between skug and ghastly together, unaware that skug and ghastly are doing the same about them. Saracen dresses Dexter up in his fancy clothes and teaches him to walk and talk and dance like a gentleman, both of them howling with laughter the whole time, and then strips the fancy clothes off him and tells him he prefers him without them. They trade stories, and slights, and sweet nothings, amd over the years they become...something to one another.

And then there's Siberia, the mission to assassinate a man so terrible his own people called him "the butcher". Something goes wrong, they're forced to scatter, and when they meet back up at the rendezvous point, they're a man down. Saracen is missing.

Dexter is absolutely frozen with panic, and he doesn't know why. Skulduggery handles it with the same cool, detached competency he always has in a crisis, and the others seem to take their lead from him, but all dexter can think of is saracen, captured and injured and terrified, and how they've all heard that nobody survives the butcher's interrogations for more than 48 hours. The teleporter arrives to take them home, and they refuse to go, and somehow dexter stumbles through the next three days of searching for saracen in a blind fucking haze of fear, sleepless and sick to his stomach, chewing his nails down to the quick.

It's saracen who finds them, in the end, limping towards them sporting little more than some gnarly bruises, missing his jacket and wearing someone else's trousers. Dexter dives on him as soon as he's within arm's reach and they go down in the snow and he's crying like a child and as soon as they're done kissing he's smacking saracen in the chest, suddenly furious, snarling, "never do that to me again! Never do that to me again!" right up until skulduggery gets hold of him under the armpits and drags him off. That night, after the story of saracen's incredible escape has been told and retold and expanded with each telling, dexter tries to tell saracen how worried he's been, how scared he was, how he thought they might never see each other again. But he cant find the words, and he keeps stopping and starting and getting frustrated

And in the end, when it's clear dex isn't really getting anywhere with this, saracen puts his head back down in dexter's lap, shuts his eyes and says, "ah, shush. I love you too."

And they leave it at that

[mementomori-demimonde]

Hidden Scars

Four Lines: Day 1 - Day 31

Chapter 1

You turn off the pan and put it aside when you hear her padding in the corridor. Humming to herself like she usually does after a satisfying day, she walks into the kitchen where you are, barely acknowledging your presence. It’s a game you know far too well to get bothered by that behavior.

Your first instinct would’ve been to ask her what has she been up to, outside, but after the last time, where she persuaded to stop asking questions with a not-too-gentle training session off the clock, knocking the curiosity out of your by force, you just bite your tongue and keep chopping the vegetables.

There are times when she returns home with dried blood under her nails, others, which happen more frequently, she’s so bruised up she can barely walk. Your mind often drifts on all the possible scenarios: fights, gun battles, homicides of all sorts, and you’re feeling scared, your stomach turning into a tight knot, yet you can’t discern if you’re more scared about her life, her nature, what she’s actually capable of, or the fact that she could go out, one day, and never come back.

Not that much has changed from when she gave you the last of the four lines on your left shoulder, forever making you hers with her initial carved in your flesh:  Miranda kisses you, lets you kiss her in return; Miranda takes you whenever she’s in the mood, and she lets you lay beneath her when she needs to get herself off after a particularly stressful day. She plays with you and you let her. The rules of that game haven’t been discussed, she is a player as well as the moderator, she sets the limits and breaks them whenever she wants; but still, it’s fresh, it thrilling, it’s what gives color to your otherwise grey life confined in that apartment. You wait for her to return home when she’s out, and buzz around her when she’s home, wondering when she’ll play with you again. In the night, rather than wonder if she’ll ever get bored of you, you often wonder when. While you wait and push the denigrating, useless thoughts in the back of your mind, you take whatever she wants to give you, well aware that anything is better than nothing at all.

When you feel her presence behind you, you do nothing to prevent your eyelids from fluttering close. The spicy scent of the cooked food gets soon replaced with the sweet one of her shampoo and soap and you inhale greedily, the grip getting loose around the handle of the chopping knife.

Miranda is silent when she breathes against the column of your neck, sharp teeth scratching lightly at your jaw. One arm loops around your waist, knocking almost all the wind out of you, the other, flushed against your side; her hand trails down steadily against your half-bare thigh, fingers tapping rhythmically against your skin, then creeping under the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing.

You still and force your eyes to open, focusing on the thin thread of smoke coming from the pan. Struggling to detach your mind enough from her touch to prevent your body from shivering, you can’t help the smirk blooming on your lips when you feel her stroking upward, palming the inside of your thigh, and dwelling on the black string fastened high on your leg. It’s not the first one she gave you, which was plain and practical, this one - also a gift - is thicker, just as efficient despite being made of a far cuter lace.

You shift impatiently when her nail scratches on the length of it, moving around, searching, relentless.

“Where’s your knife?” She hisses against your neck, looping her fingers inside the strap, and she pulls at it roughly, using the leverage to nudge your legs apart.

You hardly contain a whimper when she claws at the soft flesh under her hand, dangerously close to the apex of your thigh, but not close enough to make any damage.

“You’re disobeying me?” She nibbles at the shell of your ear, but her teeth prick this time. “I think I told you to wear it always.” She reminds you, lolling her head backward so her teeth tug, and tug until your skin stings with pain.

“I have it.” You reply then through a wheeze. You can feel her smile against your neck. “I have it here.” You add, softer, unfolding the fingers of your dominant hand to reveal the shiny, tear-shaped knife, ready to be used.

You don’t actually need to look at her to know that her eyes are sparkling with the familiar glim of upcoming violence that doesn’t scare you anymore.

Your blows are not messy like they were a few weeks ago, you’ve learned to angle your wrist and arm, you know exactly where and how to strike. There are times when you wonder whether Miranda lets you get this close to her face or a part of her body or if your skills have actually improved.

She hisses, a playful grin widening on her lips when she studies her arm, the torn sleeve, and, with more interest, the thin red line appearing on her freckled skin.

It’s a superficial cut, merely a scratch, but you contemplate the idea of begging for forgiveness before swallowing the words, your own mouth curving into a satisfied smirk when she lets out a breathy chuckle.

“I’m getting good at this.” You state boldly, your tongue stroking the edge of your teeth as you grip even firmer the knife in your hand.

“Oh, don’t be smug.” Miranda replies, and despite the grin curving her lips, you gasp at the feral sparkle behind her eyes.

When she launches forward, you immediately realize your mistake and regret your inability to shut up. Yes, a couple of months ago that same inability gave you the chance to make her mask drop and crack open the outer shell - in all honesty, if you hadn’t talked, you think that whatever you’re doing would’ve never happened in the first place - but right now, your big mouth will only give you some nasty bruises that are probably going to last for days.

You only back away a few steps before the counter presses in the small of your back. You drop your knife, hitting away her fists with some of the moves you’ve learned, but that, too, doesn't last long.

Seemingly getting bored - or frustrated - after a couple of deftly averted shots, her knees hit your square in your abdomen. The piercing pain knocks the wind out of you, but you don’t have the time to double over, cradling the offending spot in your arms, before you feel her hand grabbing a fist full of hair, pulling at your scalp with viciousness.

“You're getting good.” She confirms with a snarl, deaf to your protests, and you grip at the edge of the counted when she pulls you near the induction hobs. “But not good enough, yet.”

You close your eyes when she draws your face near one of the hot surfaces - you’ve turned it off, but it’s still scalding, and you can feel the heat lap at your cheek.

You try to resist her when she pushes, and you’re aware she could push harder, easily making your cheek burn, but she simply doesn’t.

You can hear the tip of your hair sizzling against the scalding plate, and the smell of burnt is foul, it makes you cough and struggle even more when you fight the soreness that is settling in your neck.

“Sorry!” You mumble hurriedly, almost fearing that the littles movement can bring you closer to the searing pain she threatens to give you. “I’m sorry!”

“No, you’re not.” She replies, tugging you flushed to her chest and away from the cookware.

When she spins you around, her palm is cool against your cheek, but hardly soothing. When she kisses you, it’s all teeth clashing together, fighting for a predominance you’ve already granted. When she palms you through the shirt, scattering backward only makes her rougher. And you grip at the counter edge at either side of your waist when she presses the small of your back into it, pinning between the hard surface and herself.

“And you shouldn’t be.”

Instinctively, you try to squirm away, lift yourself on your toes, but she follows, tugging at your lip with her teeth until a taste of copper pricks the tip of your tongue.

Miranda laughs at your struggle to contain pitiful whimpers when she twists your nipple between her fingers unexpectedly, and her other hand hurriedly groups the shirt up, fingers sliding between your bodies to cup your mound through the thin cotton of your underwear.

You kiss her back with fervor, chasing her hand with your hips, muffling your moans into her mouth when she presses harder, and moves faster, rubbing the damp fabric against your skin, spreading the growing arousal, making you wince in both discomfort and pleasure.

One of your hands keeps on gripping to the edge of the counter for leverage, the other flares up to fist at the back of her shirt when you feel the familiar heat coiling low into the pit of your loins.

“This is because you’ve been good.” She whispers against your mouth, hot, labored breath fanning your parted lips. Her fingers edge to your core, pushing the scratchy fabric in, for a moment, making you hiss.

“Miranda-” You whimper, not sure if you want to tell her to stop or be merciful and properly touch you so you can have some blissful relief.

“And this,” she says, teeth grazing at the shell of your ear, “is because you got me.” She pecks a single kiss on your cheek, then pulls away altogether, leaving you panting and unsated.

“Fuck-” You growl biting more foul words back and heavily falling down on your feet, knees weak and you lean more on the counter behind you.

The woman smirks at you, clearly satisfied. She nibs at the tip of the fingers that have been between your thighs, her grimace swinging from a fake alienation from the facts and a mischievous admittance of her guilts.

“Let’s eat now.” She says, perching herself on her stool, face gracefully propped on the palms of her hands, elbows on the table.

You shake your head, a meek grin poorly hidden behind your gaped mouth.

You eat in silence, she dries the dishes after you’ve washed them, putting each back herself because she likes her own disposition, which you still can’t manage to figure out precisely - or so she claims, but at some point, you knew she just wanted to mess with you.

It's late in the evening when Miranda makes you drink a mix of alcohol and some bitter solution she adds - every couple of days one drop more - a little something to prepare your body makes it go numb in case... something happens. She doesn’t tell you in case of what, of course. The first few times it got you terribly sick, but then your body grew accustomed to it, much to her satisfaction - or relief, you’re still unsure.

Feigning reading your book at the feet of the couch, you watch her working on her laptop for hours. You stare at the scrunch of her nose when she focuses on something, at how she pushes back her glasses when the frame slides dangerously close to the tip of her nose, how she grunts and smiles and taps her fingers on the keyboard with no apparent rhythm.

When she’s done, you follow her for a moment, before dropping your gaze to the book in your lap, hardly paying any attention to it, your whole body alert and set on Miranda and what she's doing.

You hear her walking around the apartment, getting ready for bed - you hear the water running in the bathroom, the rustle of clothes when she changes into her tank top and shorts to sleep.

When she comes back, you pretend to read. It’s the same damn sentence for the fourth time or so.

Miranda’s presence is heavy behind you, almost vibrating in the room. You feel the cushions on the couch bend under her weight, and when her cool hand wraps around your neck, you obediently tilt your head up, blinking at her upside-down face. She smells of minty toothpaste and lotion.

Before you can even control your mind, restraining one of the too many things you’d like to say, and ask - but never say nor ask - your mouth has moved of its own volition.

“Join me to bed?” You mumble, your voice barely above a whisper.

You watch her expression twitch, you hope for it to shift, but it doesn’t: Miranda smirks at you, shakes her head slightly.

“Don’t be clingy.” She admonishes, pressing her mouth to yours, nails digging for a moment into the tender flesh of your throat. She kisses you softly this time, then she’s gone. “Don’t stay up too late.” She warns.

You nod in agreement, but she doesn’t see you, already walking into her room.

You wish her goodnight, but she doesn’t heart you, already too distant from you.

The tip of your tongue runs across your lips to taste what’s left of her.

[ally-writes-many-things]

Who you are. (Hamish Duke) Part 4 Finale

Summary: You were an Adepti for The Order but you were also a spy for Gnostic council. The council called you back to Belgrave to spy on Vera after the recent werewolf attacks which is when you find out something about one of your old best friends.

Words: 16k

Requested: yes.

Prompts:

A/N or warnings: I'm not sure if Adepti is higher than Temple Magus but in this one shot it is..

Y/N's POV

You knew Hamish didn't mean to stay what he said but he said it none the less and you just couldn't stop replaying that memory of him saying. "Y/N, focus,"

Vera's voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked at the other members chanting the spell and you joined in.

After the ritual, you saw Jack, Edward, Vera, Renee, and Alyssa talking about how Alyssa and Jack were going to ride along to take Renee home to get the Necrophone. You questioned why Jack and Alyssa were going instead of Vera and Edward in which they replied with they were too busy. You laughed and said that you wouldn't be surprised if they didn't come back with it at all and walked out of the temple.

It had been a few hours since you've done the ritual and you were sitting on one of the benches outside the school, thinking if you wanted to go and talk to Hamish or not but you didn't know if that was a good idea. You sighed and started walking towards your car to go home and get drunk when you got a text from Vera saying to come to the temple.

Why can't see just leave me alone? I just want to go home and either sleep or get drunk.

You texted her back that you were beat and wanted to head home.

Vera: The werewolves killed the elementals.

You stopped dead in your tracks, sighed, and stared walking towards the temple.

You: On my way.

You walked into the temple and saw Vera talking to three other members.

"Y/N, you're here. Great! These are Gabrielle, Brandon and you already know Kyle,"

You looked over at Kyle and he was already ogling you. Since Kyle was inducted he always had a thing for you but for the brief time he was into Alyssa. You choose to ignore Kyle. "Nice to meet you two,"

Gabrielle just scoffed at you while Brandon reached out and shook your head. You looked at Gabrielle. "I'm sure that Vera hasn't told you about your attitude but I will. You better knock it off or I'll make you wish you never came to Bellgrave, got it? I'm not the Adepti to fuck with,"

Gabrielle just looked at you bored. "Yawn. You're aren't as badass as you think you are,"

Vera looked at Gabrielle annoyed.

Gabrielle just laughed. "What? She needs me,"

You bent down to pull your knife out of your boot and cut your hand with it. "Membra huius beluae obtorpescantur,"

Gabrielle tried to move but couldn't. "Why can't I move? What did you do?"

You chuckled and ignored her. What do you need me for Vera?"

While Vera handed Kyle and Brandon a book, you used the heal incantation to heal your hand. "I need you to read whatever you can and report back to her what you find that can kill a werewolf and if any of you suggest a sliver bullet,"

Kyle and Brandon just stood there and you rolled your eyes. "Go,"

Kyle and Brandon nodded and walked out of the temple. "Alright, if that's all. I'm heading home. It's been a long day,"

You walked up close to Gabrielle. "While I'm not the one that will killed just anyone. I'm the one who will torture someone for however I want even after I get what I want. Best remember that,"

You cut your hand one more time and use the incantation to unparalyze her. "One more thing, I don't need you. There are hundreds of others that I will choose over you and if that’s not clear, you are off this mission,"

Gabrielle scoffed. "But Temple Magus-"

"She's the temple magus, I'm an Adepti. I have more power over her. So my say is final,"

Gabrielle looked over at Vera. "Is that so?"

"It is,"

I looked behind me and saw the Grand Magus walking in. "But Y/N rarely ever goes above Vera's head cause she has the upmost respect for Vera so if she just went above her head that means you did something to piss her off. Now what should be your punishment?"

You looked over at Edward. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure she won't disrespect me again, will you?"

Gabrielle nodded her head. "Yes Adepti,"

"Good. Now run along before I change my mind,"

----

Its been a day since the wolves killed the elementals and Brandon and Kyle have yet to report to you. You were walking around campus to see if you could spot anything and that's when you see Kyle and Brandon run into the English department. It had been a couple of minutes since they walked in and you were about to walk in after them because you knew Brandon and Kyle's classes and they didn't have an English class but then you saw Hamish running out holding his side and limping. You instantly know why.

Fuck.

You let Hamish run off while you waited for Kyle to come out. "Did you see the wolf?"

You shook your head no. "How did you see it?"

"We used true sight and we found the werewolf and I stabbed him with a poisoned knife,"

"You fucking idiot,"

He looked at you like you were nuts. "That was my job,"

"No, you fucking moron. Your job was to come and report to me. You just stabbed someone in the middle of a school building. You're lucky no one saw you do it. Also, don't drink anymore of that true sight potion. There's a reason why Vera didn't mention it,"

Brandon walked up behind Kyle. "Why's that?"

"Because dumbasses, it'll cause you to go blind,"

"We read the direction-"

"Listen to me Kyle. It doesn't matter if you follow the directions, you drink anymore of it, you WILL go blind. Don't believe me? Go ask Vera. Now, go wait for me in the temple while I go find this werewolf,"

You started to leave the boys but you turned around. "And I mean it, do not leave the temple till I come,"

You started walking towards Hamish's house when you got a phone call from Jack. "What Jack?"

"I don't know why I'm telling you this. Maybe because I know you care about Hamish a lot and don't want to see him get killed-"

"Jack, I've known y’all were werewolves for a while now. I just didn't think y'all were smart enough not to get caught. I should've known Kyle would do something stupid. I'm on my way to the house,"

`` "Wait, how'd you know?"

"Jack, I have super smell. I have a wolf hybrid at home. Y'all smell like her but way worse,"

"Oh ,"

You hung up the phone and ran to the house, you didn't even bother knocking. You hear them yelling and trashing shit around. You walked into the living room to find Hamish bleeding badly. "Y/N? What are you doing here?"

You shook your head and walked towards where the banging was coming from. You walked downstairs to their basement to see Lilith and Randall throwing books and different things around. "Here's what you're gonna need,"

They both looked at you confused. "Yes, I know you're werewolves. Yes I'm apart of The Order. Can we have this conversation after we save Hamish?"

---

You were standing Hamish's room just staring at him. You had healed him about ten minutes or so ago. You had already told Lilith and Randall most of it when you were making up the potion. Hamish had asked to speak to you alone after healing him so that's where you are now. "So you were apart of The Order since Freshmen year?"

You nodded. "Yes,"

"And you never told me,"

"You were told me you were a werewolf,"

"Why did you save me?"

"I saved you because you're you,"

"What does that mean?"

"Just because I'm mad or was mad at you doesn't mean I'm gonna let you die,"

"Even after I said those things?"

"Ham, I know who you are and what's truly in your heart. I know you just want everyone to be happy. You made say stupid shit in the heat of the moment but I know you don't actually mean it,"

"So are you gonna tell The Order about us?"

"No but you have to be careful from now on, okay?"

"But what about-"

"Hamish, I get that your duty is to stop people that are using bad magic but you have to be careful,"

Hamish was quiet for a few minutes while he was looking at his shoes but then he looked up. "I was going to break up with Cassie that night,"

"What? Why?"

"Because I realized something,"

You looked at him funny but before you could respond, his lips crashed onto yours. The force of the kiss actually made you take a couple steps back until you back touched the wall. He pulled away quickly after realizing what he had did. "I'm so sorry. I should’ve gotten consent-"

"Shut up,"

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him to you and kissed him. He tangled his hand in your hair as he deepened the kiss. After what seemed like a good amount of time, you pulled away. "What did you realize?"

He did the half smile that you always loved. "That I was in love with you. I started realizing it the more we grew apart but I didn't fully realize it until I started seeing you with that one guy senior year by the time I realize it, it was too late, you were already half way across the world,"

You hovered your lips over his. "One call. One text saying that I would've flown right back,"

[theassthatquits]

Blupjeans Week Day 3 - Crush

The banners seemed to appear overnight, crowding the hallways and bathrooms and doors: “The dance is this Saturday! Ask your crush! It is the Valentine’s Day Dance after all.” Well, maybe they didn’t say all of that, but that was certainly the implication.

Barry was paralyzed with fear.

He had a crush on Lup since they were kids, pretty much starting the day on the playground when she and Taako approached him and declared that they were now Best Friends Forever and he had no choice in the matter. It was the best day of his life.

Lup and Taako had seamlessly folded into his life since then. His mother had taken an immediate liking to them and would make sure they were cared for and had everything they needed as they were moved around from place to place. The twins became a staple at the Bluejeans household, frequently staying days at a time. Barry, Lup, and Taako had become inseparable.

If he told her how he felt it could ruin everything.

--

“What the fuck is this?” Lup asked, picking up the flyer for the dance that just happened to be on her textbook sitting on the desk.

“What are you talking about now, Lulu?” Taako lazily asked, lounging on his bed filing his nails.

“This flyer for the dance. You put this here, didn’t you?”

Taako sounded bored. “I assure you, I had nothing to do with it.”

Lup groaned in exasperation. “I don’t want to think about Valentine’s Day and romantic dances. I just want to get through this year, graduate, and get the fuck out.”

“You sure you don’t want to ask a particular jeansed man out to the dance?”

Her glare would have struck fear into the heart of any other person but Taako. “I’m not asking Barry. There’s no way he would say yes and then our friendship would be ruined and I’d have to find a new best friend.”

Taako rolled his eyes. The two of them had been doing this for years and it might actually kill him. “So when are you planning on telling him, then?”

“When the time is right, I don’t know. Probably never.”

“Lulu, I love you to death and I mean this with all the kindness in my heart. I am so bored of this conversation. We’ve been having it for years. We’re graduating soon, there’s no guarantee we’re all going to the same spot, your time is running out.”

Lup crushed the flyer against her face, screaming into the void. “I know! Ugh. I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Now be a dear and pass me that polish. My nails have to look perfect for when I ask Kravitz to the dance.”

---

“You should ask her, Lucrecia. She’s a pretty cool girl and anyone would be lucky to take you to the dance.” Magnus, Lucrecia, and Barry were standing in front of Barry’s locker while Magnus was trying to convince her to ask out her crush.

“Ughhh, I don’t know, Magnus. We’ve, like barely talked.”

“That’s not true! I saw you two talking the other day.”

“Yeah, but I asked her for notes. That’s different, that’s school stuff.”

“I think I agree with Magnus, Creesh.” Barry shut his locker door and started shoving his textbook in his backpack. “She laughs at all your jokes in class, which is a great sign. I mean, we’re seniors. This is our last chance.”

Lucrecia gave him the biggest side eye. “Oh, yeah, Bluejeans? Are we talking about final chances and asking out crushes now? If you say it’s so easy, why don’t you go ask Lup?”

Barry’s face went pale. “Uhh, uhh. That’s different! Lup’s my best friend.”

“Mhmmm, okay. I’ll make you a deal, you ask Lup, I’ll ask Melora.”

“Ask Lup what?” Out of seemingly nowhere, Lup appeared in between Lucrecia and Barry. His eyes went wide and he began stammering.

“Uhh, nothing! Just one of the questions from last night’s reading.”

“Ahh, yes. Last night’s reading...which I totally did...because I definitely remembered to do it…”

Lucrecia laughed and passed Lup her notes. “Here, read through these before our class discussion.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!! You’re a life-saver.” Lup leaned in and planted a nice big kiss on Lucrecia’s cheek. Lucrecia winked at Lup as the bell rang and took off after Magnus, leaving Lup and Barry alone.

The two of them walked in uncomfortable silence, both of them wanting to say what they swore they never would. They passed by one of the many posters about the dance and Barry cleared his throat. “So the dance next week...are you going?”

“Oh, that thing? I hadn’t given it much thought at all,” Lup lied through her teeth. “I mean, it sounds like it could be fun, especially since we haven’t really gone to a dance at all.”

“Yeah! Do you...uh, do you want, um…” Barry kept stammering, his face fully red. Lup’s face lit up, hoping he was attempting to ask her to the dance.

“Do I what?”

Barry let out a deep breath to steady himself and began again. “Do you want to go -“

The bell rang loudly, cutting off the rest of his sentence. Barry swore under his breath.

“Shit, it’s like a four minute walk to calculus, I’ll catch you later?”

Lup swallowed a lump in her throat she hadn’t realized was there. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Once Barry was out of sight, she turned and rammed her body against the lockers with a little too much force.

“Lulu, that was...incredibly painful to watch.” Taako’s voice appeared behind her.

“Imagine how it felt to live it.”

“I don’t think I can, considering I walked right up to Kravitz, looked him in the eyes and said ‘you, me, dance?’”

“What did he say?”

“Yes, natch.”

“Congratulations, I’m so happy for you,” she said, not sounding happy for him at all.

He chuckled at that and grabbed her hand. “C’mon, we’re going to be late.”

—

Lup stood outside the school under the tree she always did waiting for Barry so they could walk back to his place together to do homework like they did every day. He was taking a little more time than usual but he occasionally got stopped after class to talk about nerd stuff with Lucas Miller.

“Hey, Lup.” A smarmy voice came from behind her and she turned around to see gorgeous jock Greg Grimaldis leaning against the tree, a smirk on his face.

“What’s up, my dude?”

“I don’t know if you heard, but I’m getting inducted into the school hall of fame for football this weekend.”

“Congrats?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me to the ceremony this Saturday. As my date.”

She was taken aback. Sure, Greg Grimaldis had flirted with her a lot the last four years but she was incredibly attractive, a lot of people hit on her. “Uh, Saturday is the dance.”

“Oh, that lame soirée? Yeah, I’ve been to a thousand like it, no thank you. Trust me, this is going to be a lot cooler.”

“Uhh..” Lup hesitated and then was interrupted by Barry appearing next to her.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Greg Grimaldis ignored him, like he always did, and turned to Lup. “You know, I’ll give you until tomorrow to think about it. See you then.” He winked and then ran his tongue over his teeth, sending shivers of disgust over her.

“Woah, what was that about?” Barry asked, watching Greg walk away, stereotypically throwing a football up into the air.

“He asked me to go to this stupid ceremony with him on Saturday as his date.”

“...oh.” His voice was scratchy and squeaky and he turned away from her. “Are you going to go?”

“I don’t know...Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” Please give me a reason, please tell me I shouldn’t go.

Barry’s mouth was dry as he replied: “I mean, if you want to go you should go.”

Her heart dropped. “Uh, maybe I will go. It could be kind of fun, maybe ruin Greg’s big night.”

That got a slight, but fake, chuckle. “Sounds fun.”

They stood there in tense silence, not looking at one another before she finally broke it. “Guess we should get going, we have all that homework to work on.”

“Actually, Lup I’m not feeling too great. I kind of have a headache and my mom wants me to help out with some stuff at home, so if it’s okay with you I’ll just walk you to your place.”

Okay, that hurt. She faked a smile. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Usually their walks home are full of laughter, Lup reenacting some wild shit that had happened that day, Barry stopping to inspect weird flowers or trees, the two of them going out of their way to step on leaves and dance through the streets pretending that when they bump into one another it’s an accident.

Today, they didn’t say a word to one another.

—-

“Woah, what the fuck happened to you?”

Lup didn’t even register what Taako had said when she burst into their room, sobbing. He stood up quickly. “Okay, who the hell do I have to beat up?”

She didn’t say a word, just tackled him to his bed and buried her face in his chest. Normally, he would have complained about her ruining his shirt but he thought it best to not mention it. Until later, at least.

They sat there, Taako rubbing soothing circles on her back like he had done a thousand times until she had calmed down enough to talk. “He doesn’t like me, Ko.”

“What? This is about Barold? Oh my god.” He rolled his eyes and pushed her off of him. “How many times do we have to go through this? The two of you are ridiculous.”

“No, Ko, he really doesn’t like me. Greg Grimaldis asked me to go to this stupid ceremony with him on Saturday instead of the dance -“

“And you said no, right Lulu? Please tell me you said no.”

“- well, not exactly.”

“Oh my god.” Taako removed his arms from around her and covered his face. “I’m going to have to do so much fucking damage control.”

“I asked Barry! I asked him if he thinks I should say yes and Barry said, and I quote: ‘If you want to go, you should go.’ End quote.”

“Yeah, because he respects your autonomy as a human being. He’s not going to tell you to not go on a date because he is hopelessly in love with you. Gods, Lulu I thought you were smarter than this.”

“If he didn’t want me to go with Greg he should have said something!”

“Have you met the kid? He’s got the worst self-esteem of any of us. Lulu, please, I’m begging you as your brother: do not go out with Greg Grimaldis. Go call Barry, talk this out, please. I’m not doing this for either of you anymore, this is purely selfish. I am so tired of hearing about this.”

“I don’t want to call him! He’s made his choice, he doesn’t like me and I am going to die alone.” She flopped dramatically on the bed, covering her face with a pillow.

“You’re not going to die alone. Greg Grimaldis is going to be there.”

A pillow came flying at him. “Get out!”

“This is my room too, Lu.”

“I don’t care. I need some time. Go make googly eyes at Kravitz or something.”

Taako stood up and started walking towards the door.

“Fine, I’ll leave you to your moping. But when I get back you had better at least texted poor Barold.”

“Poor Barold???” Taako heard her voice loud and clear through the door even though he was halfway down the hall.

---

Lup spent an hour with her head under the pillow, an unrequited love playlist from fantasy Spotify playing on her phone, trying to fill the hole in her heart when all of a sudden her door burst open and Barry flew in, panting heavily like he had just run all the way here from his house.

“Lup!! Are you okay? Taako said you had a science emergency and you needed help right away or you were going to fail all your classes and die and now that I’m saying this out loud it sounds completely and totally fake.”

Lup took the pillow off of her head and turned to face him. “Barry, what the fuck is going on?”

“I could ask you two the same thing.” Taako’s voice boomed ominously from behind Barry who moved into the room to let him in. “I am done, finished, with the two of you. Neither of you are allowed to leave this room until I am satisfied with the results. Here’s some granola bars.” He purposefully aimed for Lup’s head and a couple of them bounced off. “Ciao.”

Taako left and shut the door behind him before either of them could say another word. Barry’s face was flushed red and he was still sweating from his run. “What is he talking about, Lup?”

She sighed and her voice got quiet. “Barry, I don’t want to go to the awards ceremony with Greg Grimaldis.”

If Lup had been paying any less attention she wouldn’t have noticed the light in his eyes return and the smile dance across his lips. “Yeah?” He cleared his throat, trying to cover up his happiness at that statement, then he sighed deeply. “I don’t want you to go to the awards ceremony with Greg Grimaldis.”

She smiled. “Yeah?”

“Of course not, Lup.” He moved to the bed, sitting down next to her. “I want you to come to the dance with us. We’ve gone through our whole lives together, I don’t want the first dance I go to to be without you. Who else am I going to make fun of people with?”

“Taako.”

“You know he’s going to be hanging on Kravitz all night.”

“True.” There was a brief silence. “Barry, is the only reason you want me to come is so you have someone to make fun of people with?”

Several knocks came from the closed door, making both Barry and Lup jump. “Barry I swear if you fuck this up I will cut up all of your jeans.”

Lup threw a pillow against the door. “Go away, you prick!” She turned back to Barry, his face bright red. “What does he mean by that?”

Sighing again, Barry takes out his phone and opens it. “Lup, I don’t know how to say it. But I have something that hopefully will get the meaning across. I was going to show this to you but then I saw you with Greg Grimaldis and I -” Lup put a finger up to his lips silencing him.

“What is it?”

“It’s, uh, a song. I wrote it. It’s called ‘Endless Lup’.”

He pressed play on the song and Lup was immediately transfixed. Barry could only play the piano and definitely couldn’t sing so there weren't any lyrics to follow but she could feel his affection for her nonetheless. She sat there, mouth slightly agape with tears in her eyes until the song ended. Neither of them spoke for several moments.

“Barry, that’s -”

“It’s too much, I’m sorry.” He turned away from her, running his hand through his hair.

Wordlessly, she touched his shoulder and turned him back towards her. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

He flushed. “Good, because I wrote it for you.”

“Lup if you don’t fucking kiss this poor man, I will!!”

“Is that a promise?” Barry yelled back before Lup tackled him, bridging the distance between them.

@blupjeansweek2021

[summoner-kentauris]

What does your interpretation of Zacharias think about Líf and Thrasir? (You can either just answer or write a lil story if you feel like it)

OOOO now i have thought in my free time a fair amount about what líf thinks of zasha but, and i cannot believe this, i have not thought about what zacharias thinks about líf and thrasir. full disclosure, book III happened to be going on when i formally stopped playing feh. i kept up with the story after that but, theres my obligatory knowledge base disclaimer.

also minor cws through this whole thing because i talk here and there about zacharias and his... mm, canonical relationship to death/selfharm

-

so, i spent a lot of time thinking about this one, and i keep coming back to my gut reaction, which is that i don't think zacharias would like them very much. i dont know why i think that, though.

PART ONE

i think a lot of it would depend on how they approach him, which is maybe why i've spent more time thinking about the reverse of this ask, come to think of it. see, i think zacharias could go any which way in terms of what he thinks of them. i think he could hate them, as two people who killed versions of everyone he ever loved, including metaphorically killing off the two people closest to him.

i think he could love him, having seen the hell (ha ha literally) that they went through. understanding what that feels like. given the way he talks about his suicide attempts, and honestly that he spent most of book I trying to get people to kill him, really his whole relationship to death. i mean the man talks a lot about death and killing. he might not be the feh OC who best understands how manipulative and... whats a good word. alluring? what im trying to say is that besides eir, he might be the one most likely to understand why Hel and hel's offer appealed to líf and thrasir. i feel like this bit has a place here: "With his dying breath...he begged for his life. He called out your names! "I'll do anything you ask! Just let me live!" excepting of course that i still am not sure if i think he said/thought that or not. ive never been sure who really is in control of speaking right then and there. Anyway. Probably he could come to understand Líf and Thrasir's stance, enough that he could care about them the same ways he cares about his versions of Alfonse ann Veronica

on the other hand, i can see him being fully horrified by the choices those two made in response. this bit: Not anyone... This dark god...seeks death. And it cries for the destruction of Askr. Like. Líf and Thrasir are intentionally enacting the same thing as the dark god's desires, in order to correct a mistake they made that, uh, also enacted the same thing as dark god's desires. talk about awkward. and i think Zasha, who has lived with this nightmare in his head for so long, might recoil from people who are so directly aligned with it. who wants to be around someone who has become, who has chosen to become, everything you ever feared you'd be? especially when you're nearly drowning from the effort of fighting to stop yourself.

i could also see him meeting them and it being incredibly, incredibly bad for him. i feel like, he puts a whole lot of... mm. what am i trying to say.here:

Yet it is you that says this, dear friend, and so I must consider it. I see the faith reflected in your eyes. Perhaps it is possible...

SPEAKING OF BUNNY ZACHARIAS I ALSO THINK YOU COULD TAKE THE FOLLOWING:

You never change. All you see is a lofty goal, even if you lack the means to achieve it... The idea that gods would fall by the hand of man is a fantasy... and a preposterous one. This is a goal that even our ancestors Líf and Thrasir could not achieve.

setting aside the obligatory wtf zash i know you know your lore (fuck, maybe there is no killing the gods, maybe all Fire Emblem victories are temporary at best and Zenith is the only one who knows it. but i think, probably not), i think you could spin a very believable scenario where zacharias takes one look at these two ambitious, arrogant posers and absolutely refuses to speak to them any further.

so, part one, i think that zacharias could think any number of things about líf and thrasir. which i suppose means that i think he's fairly neutral on the subject of líf and thrasir. makes sense to me, i suppose. i feel like zacharias | bruno has practice (regardless of whether he's any good at it or not, or whether its any good for him) at holding and maintaining separate personas, so I don't think the fact that líf and thrasir were alfonse and veronica would necessarily be all that important to him.

which brings me to part ii

what happened to dead zenith zacharias

if zacharias is neutral on the subject, I think a lot of their relationship is going to pushed in one direction or another by líf and thrasir themselves.

and, complicating matters (when do I make things simple?), i think their approach to zacharias would of course depend on what happened to their zacharias. correct me if im wrong, but i dont think we have even a hint what happened to him.

there are three ish options I'm seeing. one: as dead world zenith is further along in its timeline and as zacharias claims he's almost out of time with his curse, other zacharias died due to that before the war with hel. i feel like scenario one is the most likely to lead to a good relationship between main zacharias and líf and thrasir.

two: mr. professional "knows plot relevant things out of knowhere" was the one who found out about angrboða's heart in the first place. especially given "As destruction took hold, we joined with Embla to seek the forbidden heart...", which to me sounds a lot like, "hel was kicking our ass then zacharias showed up and said we should go get this mystical plot object from embla". thrasir even says she and líf weren't allies before the world went to shit. anyway. hear me out here:

Yes. The heart is sealed within an Emblian blood temple. If that seal is broken, someone will die each time the heart beats... Those who perform the rite are the first to die.

Now. Líf claims he was the one who broke it open, but he also was present for the war that followed and only after was he killed and inducted into hel's army. so. both of those things can't be true. i propose that the magic mcguffin located in a sealed emblian blood temple was unlocked by our dear zacharias and thats what killed him in other zenith. i think its possible that other veronica was the one who did it, but you know. its all imagination at this point. also, and i forgot this, but thrasir does go off about how she can't lose until she saves her brother, so. something especially tragic happened at least. and oh boy is scenario two a nice fresh tasty tragedy. so that's scenario two. other zacharias directly died as a result of attempts to fight hel

number three thing that could have happened to zach is boring. he's always off doing things, he could have just died off screen. i mean. everyone did, eventually.

frankly he could still be alive for all i know. the heart appears to take the lives of people in the world, not of the world, or else the summoner would have been fine. so, if zacharias was on one of his off world jaunts, he could conceivably be a-okay. well. as okay as someone who's whole world died. i don't think that's what happened, because thrasir is pretty clear about feeling that she failed him, but yknow.

líf and thrasir's reactions to the above

thrasir is i think the most straightforward. i can't really see her approaching main zacharias with anything but positive intent. even if she's only a little bit open, i think thrasir and zacharias will probably have a decently tolerable relationship. if zacharias can come back to a country that exiled him as a kid and let his mother die in a dungeon and then go on to not just befriend but protect and care for a half sister he didnt know before then, then i think he'll find a way to care about thrasir. you know, intsys could have had fun making another perpetual older brother character. as i understand it, xander gets brother'd a lot, he and zach could have talked. could have been fun. a whole, zacharias, a historically traumatized child: *arrives in a world* every currently traumatized kid in a five mile radius: oh shit this one's ours now. you know what im saying? found family except zacharias would very much like it to stop finding him. he's got important brooding to do. but anway, they didn't go that route and its a tragedy.

líf is... more complicated. i think scenario one creates the most positive outlook. i can see him still having guilt over zacharias' loss, but i think any of it would be overshadowed by everything else that happened. in this scenario, líf finally gets back a piece of the world he'd lost. yeah, it's not his zacharias, but still. it is a zacharias, who is living and breathing and frowning and asking why you are staring at me, knight. i think the two of them could get along rather well, although i see them having significant issues with pessimism. inch-restingly enough... the dark curse bades its hosts to kill askrans. and líf is, well. dead. so... perhaps... perhaps líf wouldn't trigger the curse like alfonse does. in that case, not only does líf get someone back he thought he'd never see again, but so does zacharias.

scenario two is just a nightmare. frankly, i initially thought this scenario would lead to líf just ignoring zacharias (out of guilt, pain, etc), but i was rereading the scripts looking for the spelling of angrboða and this came up:

Tell Hel. She'll erase those memories. She'll erase them all...

so, honestly? i think that in scenario two líf just straight up gets hel to remove his memories of zacharias (as an aside maybe this is also why he never ever ever talks about other anna >:{ )

in that case, líf wouldn't really have any reason to talk to this man, who causes this empty deeply sad feeling to well up in him for now discernible reason. and zacharias has no reason (or time) to talk to this standoffish general of the dead. so. that's a real ships in the night moment.

number three i think líf would still hold the same guilt as in number two, but i don't think it would be as horrifically tragic, so i think it's more likely he'd be willing to approach zacharias. he does appear to have even worse of a thing than alfonse about not opening oneself up to people, but i think that even if he's líf, he once was an alfonse, and being that this is me answering this, i don't think any alfonse can really keep away from a zacharias for very long. its a version of the person who once knew him as well as any other person in the world. like líf can't really seem to stop himself from associating with main sharena, i don't think he could stop himself from reaching out in his own way to main zacharias. and god does that man need some more friends. i think zacharias would probably be a little frightened of líf, and of what an alfonse could become. but i think probably... i feel like a lot of book i issues stem from the fact that, justified or not, zacharias thinks alfonse would risk anything, any harm to save him. i don't know that confronting an alfonse who literally risked everything and did all harm to save his world would be a comfort, but i do think zacharias would get a lot out of having someone who's already done the worst they can do. been there, done that, got the tshirt. i think zacharias would be a little afraid of what an alfonse could become, but i think he would no longer have to be afraid of... no, anxious about it. i think there's a kind of calm in having something confirmed that zacharias could appreciate. healthy? unhealthy? fuck if i know. i also think that in líf, zacharias has a friend who he can't physically hurt anymore. lífs already dead. been there done there got the.... glowing gel torso. i think, curse nonewithstanding, zacharias will always have some degree of tension and fear about hurting people he's in a relationship with, be that because of his issues with abandonment, of abandoning, of harm, etc. but you know. líf's kind of a rock. and he's already hit his rock bottom, now that i'm thinking about rocks. i think that kind of steady, placid deathness could really help zacharias. and i think he would find it soothing, whether or not he knew why.

plus he will be able to know that if the curse gets him, if he dies... he'll still have a friend in the realm of the dead. he doesnt have to be so afraid of leaving and getting left

so there we go! lots of musings. i have been thinkin about why my headcanons are less that and more elaborate branching theories, and i think it is because i would change my opinion depending on which story i wanted to tell or hear or see.so yeah. dunno which one of these answers belongs to the question, what does your interpretation of Zacharias think about Líf and Thrasir?, but hopefully at least one of them is interesting to read about!

OH also. i think he would be petty-ly annoyed about them cribing líf and thrasir's name. like full on scholar petty. probably showed up to the order in a nerdy huff excited to meet the actual factual líf and thrasir and turns out its just those two, sitting around glowing and reciting death metal lyrics like they're spoken word ballads. dont think he'd get over that ever.