#i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter

[lilybug-02]

Pain is a great motivator…

Part 26 || First || Previous || Next

—Full Series—

Meanwhile Toriel:

(Loud noises don't wake her up usually.)

Artist note: I’m so proud of this :))) I know it’s a lot of dialogue and reading, but dialogue is grueling work for me. I’m glad with the art and for the amount of pages I made in such a relatively short time span -w- page 5 was super fun to work on. A lot of blood, sweat, and hours here... :) The backgrounds were a big bore tbh, but I finished them! Yippie!

[thesunisatangerine]

playing for keeps – chapter one

alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader

status: ongoing

(a/n in the tags) [chapters: one, two]

word count: 2.9k

The darkness lurched and a sensation of falling brought you back to your senses. There was a momentary confusion–as was the case after leaving the half-conscious state–but it didn’t take you long to piece the world back together. A shudder disturbed the panel beneath your feet and you felt the running tremor that followed accompanied by a low rumble you could barely hear through the stressing pressure in your ears. You blinked your eyes open and there was a rawness to them that made you squint, taking in a familiar scene that greeted you past the window as you did. 

A deep purple tint veiled the brilliance of the sun, casting the world into the cool calm of dusk, as the remainder of the day streaked the horizon with its fading light. You recognised the sloping silhouettes of the mountains that stood tall in the distance, seeming all the more greater against the early evening sky, comfortingly familiar and inviting in their grand stillness.

The intercom played a three-tone melody followed by a voice that filtered through the static.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Barcelona. The local time is six hours ahead of the Newark area, and it is currently approaching six in the evening. Please remain seated with your seatbelts on until the ‘Fasten Seatbelt’ sign has been switched off. It has been our pleasure to serve you on this flight. Thank you, and a very good evening.”

In the moments that followed, chatter erupted all around you. Tearing your gaze away from the window, finally, you unbuckled your seatbelt but made no move to get up, opting instead to rest your cheek on your hand. 

The thing that made window seats great–apart from the view, of course–was the fact that people who were in no rush to get off the plane wouldn’t feel compelled to move to avoid obstructing other passengers. And you, who was normally eager to stretch your legs after a particularly long flight such as this one, very much needed another moment to gather yourself. So you watched on as the other passengers stood and shuffled about, opening and closing the overhead bins to retrieve their luggage.

A restlessness crept over you. It erupted from somewhere deep down your gut to your limbs, and the feeling had you longing to jump out of your seat–to run–but you stayed put. There you waited, drumming a rhythm with your fingers against your thigh as your other leg bounced to the same chaotic pace. And without any bidding, the scenes you’d thought of before you sank into the nap you’d just woken up from flashed through your mind, relentless in their effort to tear you apart again.

You craned your neck to the side to see through the window. Somewhere at the far side of the airport, a yellow light flashed from a parked plane. It reminded you of fireflies and–

No.

You halted the memory and instead resorted to counting the number of times it blinked to keep your mind occupied.

“Excuse me, is everything okay?”

You blinked.

Turning away from the window to the direction of the voice, you saw an attendant looking at you with a curious expression. 

“Yes,” you stuttered out. 

Behind her you noticed that all of the seats were empty, and probably for quite some time now, so you gave her a quick apology when you stood to gather your belongings. You began for the exit after closing the overhead cabin but the stewardess stopped you again with another question. 

“You’re a professional footballer?”

You looked at her over your shoulder. Your surprise at her question must have been clear on your face because she looked down at your duffel bag and then back at you with just a hint of amusement by the way her brow was lifted.

Oh. You forgot about that.

You hefted your Barça bag over your shoulder as you replied, “Uh, yeah. Are you much of a fan?” 

“I love it. Love watching and playing it whenever I can. I’m more of a Madridista, though.”

“Oh. That’s a shame.” 

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at your dry humor but without any hint of offense.

The both of you continued to the exit. 

“What position do you play?”

“Keeper.”

“Very cute. How long have you been playing for Barça?”

“I’m just newly transferred, actually.”

By this point, the both of you had arrived at the plane’s open door.

“Oh, really? Well, I wish you all the best for your season. And I hope this doesn’t come across as unprofessional but is it okay if I asked you for a picture?” 

“Thank you. And no, not at all.”

After you posed for the photo, she thanked you. You felt her fingers brush over yours as she took back her phone before she sent you a playful wink. Her beauty attracted you, yes, and years ago such blatant advances from a fine woman would’ve been received warmly by you but not anymore–especially not today. So instead, you gave her a polite, almost apologetic, nod and parted ways with a small smile as you shuffled out of the plane.

It was a haze, your journey through the gates, the baggage reclaim zone, and the checkpoints. The lights and images melted together in one big blur, the noises coalesced to a low drone, before the world focused again when your phone screen lit up. 

‘I’m in the arrival hall,’ it said.

Despite yourself, your heartbeat picked up upon seeing it and a familiar restlessness made you shiver. You shook your head, rolling your luggage towards the arrival hall, tapping your thumb against the handle of your roller, the strap of your duffel bag clutched tightly in your other hand. 

With every step, your heart jumped in anticipation. 

You turned the corner and your chest stilled. 

And at the sight you beheld, you were gone. It was like you were seventeen all over again.

To you, it was as if the world became brighter, the colors and shapes now sharper, and she was the light that made everything that much clearer. 

A thought rang clear in your mind, Oh, god, she’s right there.  And she’s so beautiful.

She was leaning back against one of the columns that lined the terminal, the darkness of her outfit a stark contrast against the white paint which made her all the more easier to spot. Her eyes were trained on her phone as she tapped away at it with a small, soft smile adorning her face; that, for some reason, made your heart ache. A few locks of her hair escaped the hold of her ear and they framed her face in such a way that made her look inviting and at the same time accentuated that air of untouchability that seemed to be always present around her. Some people recognised her as they walked past, their heads turning and fingers pointing, but none of them seemed to be inclined to disturb her, which you were grateful for.

Just one more minute, one more moment. You wanted to take her in as she was for just that bit longer. 

It was as if she sensed you because, not a second later, she looked up to scan the crowd briefly, and then you were locked in her gaze. There was still quite a distance left between the two of you but even from where you stood, you saw her face lit up to a beaming grin as she met your eyes. She tucked her phone into her back pocket and gingerly pushed off from the column to approach you, sidestepping the people in her way with ease. 

The next thing you knew, the familiar scent of wintergreen and mint, mixed with the faint sweetness of cinnamon and vanilla, washed over your senses. And the warm weight of her arms and body was all you could think about–could feel. Then a peck branded your cheek that left them feeling heated despite the dampness of her hair against your skin there.

Squinting through the sudden rawness of your eyes, you wrapped your arms around the strength of her, looping them around her waist as your hands found purchase on the small of her back. You hid your face in the safety of her neck, just like you’d done many times over the years. Like this, it was as if the two of you were still best of friends. Like you still knew each other like you used to. 

“Hello, pretty girl,” she breathed against your ear. “Welcome back.”

As she said this, you knew in your mind–believed–that you were finally home. And the thought was enough to steal and return your breath to you.

You whispered.

“It’s good to be home, Alexia.”

———

The car ride was silent. It had started to drizzle not long ago and it had grown heavy enough that Alexia needed to turn the windshield wipers on. The wipers made a steady rhythm when they met the hood of the car and made a slight squeaking noise as they moved up and down the windshield–two of the few sounds that made the air in the car bearable.

The world outside the passenger side’s window had devolved to blobs and blurs from the droplets that clung to the glass. Still, you kept your gaze there as guilt gnawed at your gut the same way you worked your lower lip between your teeth. 

The thing was, the walk to the car wasn’t bad at all. The both of you had chatted while Alexia led you to where she parked her car, your duffel bag hoisted casually over her shoulder despite your protests. But the moment the doors of her car slammed shut, so did you–it was as if all the weight of the past few months–exacerbated by the restless plane ride, finally hit you. 

And to Alexia’s credit, she’d done everything she could to remove the silence. She asked you about your flight (again) and when that didn’t work, she began to talk football. She asked you about your last season, about how you won your league and wondered about how that must’ve felt like for you. Alexia briefly turned the topic to Barça and sprinkled in some funny stories she hadn’t told you over the sparse messages you’d exchanged that you reacted to. You were just about to settle into the conversation when she inquired about your negotiations with the club and how you felt about returning to Barça; she solicited the reason that made you inclined to come back. At that, you clammed up again. Alexia didn’t seem to notice because she began to mention things you used to do or like–things she didn’t know you didn’t do nor like now–in the quest to get you talking.

For each question she asked, you’d given her back the same kind of nothing: a yes, a no, a hum. The simple drizzle had turned to steady rain pattering against the roof, and the calming sound did nothing to ease the growing tension in the car. Despite the desire to engage in a conversation with Alexia, it was as if all of your thoughts–or at least the capacity to string them together–were hiding behind the dark curtain of your mind, the heavy veil tailored from the same fabric that weighed in your chest. Weariness pervaded your bones and your soul, and it exhausted you past the point of exchanging pleasantries and niceness, a task now seemingly impossible.

So you excused yourself from the conversation. You told her it was jet lag. Alexia nodded in understanding, but the light in her eyes had dimmed, and she trained them on the road with deliberate focus, her lips tightening to a line fit for silence. 

Despite not having spent time with her like you used to the last two years you’d been away, the language of her face and body was still familiar to you–and how could they not when they’d carve themselves into the tissues of your mind?–enough to know that she wasn’t convinced at all with what you said. Because maybe, just maybe, you were to her as she was to you: familiar.

The thought provided little comfort, and the guilt felt heavier, another stone dropped into the pitcher.

And the feeling gave way to another thought, unpleasant in the way it told you what you already knew. Alexia took time to drive you to your apartment instead of resting for tomorrow’s practice, and this was how you treat her? How nice.

Then another.

Just like how you treated Olivia, right?

Your eyes closed from the sting that followed, a stitch torn from a newly-sewn wound. And you tried to prevent yourself from crying, but the darkness only served to rub salt to the cut as it made the fleeting images clearer and the words ever louder.

“I’m so stupid! So stupid…”

“Go. Please, just go. You won’t find happiness here.”

A touch to your arm startled you back to the present. The jostle from the gasp you let out was enough to make a tear fall, and you turned to Alexia who already had her eyes on you; her face graced with concern and a question. 

The car had stopped, and now parked outside of your apartment complex.

“What’s wrong?” Came the gentle question. 

Your heart lurched at the look she laid upon you, followed by an ache, a longing for the old times–back when you used to tell each other everything. But how could you tell her about this? About what led to this? When the fire from that night remained, glowing patiently as an ember in the dark, waiting for the wind to call her name again–to set her aflame again?

Another tear escaped your eye before you could turn away, which you brushed off with the back of your hand before you met Alexia’s gaze again.

“Nothing. I’m just–I’m sorry for being a bitch.” You said with a small, apologetic smile. 

Alexia traced some invisible path along your face, regarding you with a pensive look. The moment took long enough that you considered she’d press you for information. Instead, she teased softly with a half-smile, “Don’t worry about it. What else is new?”

Your shoulders eased down a bit.

“Still a smart-mouth, I see,” you laughed with more than a bit of air, “Indeed, what else is new?”

At that, Alexia chuckled with you but the pressing silence returned. 

Then Alexia sighed.

“How long has it been since we’ve played together?” 

Her brows knitted together at her own question as she leaned back against her seat, putting her hands behind her head which pulled the sleeves of her shirt up just enough to reveal the tattoo on the underside of her arm.

You casted your eyes aside, your gaze fleeting to the unlit window of your apartment.

A memory intruded your mind again.

“I’m not sure,” you half-whispered. 

“Two years.” Something in her tone told that she knew that you knew, but she didn’t call you out on it. But it seemed she was more inclined to call you out on something you said a long time ago. “I hope you’ve made peace with whatever made you leave all the way to the States of all places.”

You looked at her. Alexia’s brow was raised in silent expectation. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on.”

“‘Come on’, what?”

“You were offered a place in Lyon–in Bayern. Bayern! When I heard you were leaving, I went, ‘That’s it. Bayern has her’. Imagine my surprise when you said you were going to America.” Alexia scoffed as she gestured in the air with her hands for emphasis. A pause before she continued, “Now, tell me why you really went away.”

“I already told you.”

“Yeah. What was it you said? ‘I’ve always wanted to see what the competition is like there’? For someone who talked about Neuer and Bayern all the time second to Barça, it always made me think how and when the NWSL crossed your mind.” 

Guess you don’t know me that well then.

You bit your tongue before you could say it. Instead, you shrugged and sighed, hunching forward so you could rest your elbows on your knees, fingers clasping together as you twiddled your thumbs. “If you don’t want to believe what I said, that’s up to you. I stand by it.”

Alexia regarded you with that same deciphering look she’d been giving you the whole night. And as if she finally understood that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with you, she shook her head and sank back down in her seat.

“Indulge me, then. Tell me, what’s the verdict?” Alexia drawled, dripping with thinly-veiled sarcasm. 

It wasn’t like home.

“Really appreciate the judgment all over your tone, Alexia.” You replied drily then added, “And it was great, thank you very much.”

Alexia tilted her chin up to release a laugh. A strand of her hair fell out of place and she brushed it back with a finger.

“Well, you should tell me more about how you enjoyed yourself, then. I’m sure you have a lot of stories to tell.” You heard the unspoken words, ‘Stories you never bothered to tell me through the phone or during the instances we’d met during the time you were away.’

I would’ve enjoyed it better if you were there.

“Where do you want me to begin?” If Alexia heard the weary sigh in your tone, she made no indication she did. 

“I don’t know. Where do you want to start?”

I went away because of you.

“At this point, we’ll be here all night.” You laughed.

Alexia chuckled, and then softly she said, “Just tell me anything then.”

Distance didn’t work. My heart is still yours.

You hummed, thinking of a story, as you finally eased back on your seat and then you began. 

“Well…”

[might-be-tiny-gt]

Welcome to Chapter 1 of the TAoLaW "dramatic" reading

What can I say, the theatre kid in me needed to record this in audio format.

Have I mentioned how much I love this fic? Yes? Well I'm saying it again, I LOVE THE ART OF LOVE AND WAR!!!

If you haven't read it please go read it. Index Page | Chapter 1

The Art of Love and War Is written by @fireflywritesgt and the audio reading is recorded and posted with permision.

[graveyardgremlins]

Some memes about Chapter 9 of two slow dancers, last ones out on ao3, which will be posted today

I'm going to have to add more tags to the fanfic and some warnings because I was not prepared for the things I would write lmao (but seriously, if you're going to read chapter nine check the updated tags)

[sourtomatola]

Taking Candy for a Fool part 19 (last)

You took in a sigh of relief as you saw Sun and Moon, still monstrous and gangly, kneeling in the center of the group of candy critters. They beckoned you over and you hugged them.

“Actually, Marionette grabbed me and had me sleep in their box with them. They kept me safe. Nightmarionne also gave me a taffy ball. I did eat it, is that okay?” You told them. The other candy creatures gasped softly at the news, making you looked around confused. “What?”

“Marionette doesn’t like anyone that much, and Nightmarionne hate everyone.” Sun explained. “Nightmarrionne’s taffy is rarer than our drops. Everyone knows you now, Cry Baby. You have all of our thanks. We were able to take the factory for ourselves.”

“You plan to stay here?” You asked curiously. “You don’t want to see the world??”

“Where in the world would beings like us be able to be safe?” Sun asked in in solemn awareness. “The sun is hot, we melt. The cold makes us brittle, and shatter. The rain will wash us away…We will be safest here. We have what we need, we can still carry out orders online with what we shed, we can just do it in our own time. We will be okay I think.”

“With a bit of guidance.” Moon added. “Maybe we can make a garden to grow the fruit to sustain us better. We can grow it on the room, or tear out a part to get the sun in. Maybe we can have Bee’s as well, to pollinate the plants and make us more honey to live on too.”

You smiled at their ambitions, happy to think of them being able to stay safe, no longer tortured nightly. Free to do what they wanted.

They moved slightly to show you that behind them, was Eclipse’s body. You swallowed sadly at the sight. You were glad he was no longer hanging from the wall though.

Puppet slithered in, crawling towards you all. They nipped a bite of stuck taffy off your leg, making you flinch. They smirked and continued to Sun and Moon, who they handed small metal box to. Your friends looked to Eclipse’s body, and you put the pieces together.

“Is that Eclipse’s core? Can you fix him??” You asked eagerly.

Moon observed it for a moment before sighing and showed you a puncture mark. “Too damaged…”

“Oh…” You deflated. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, either way, he deserves to be buried whole.” Sun said and gently opened Eclipse’s chest cavity to let Moon put the core in its place. You watched reverently.

“I should probably go…” You told them after they had finished.

“Come back often, Cry baby. You’re always welcome.” Sun smiled and held you close. Moon joined in the Hug, and slowly, they began to shed the sharp pieces of candy shell on them. Long pieces of black Liquorice tumbled down your back, and chips of golden butterscotch fell to the floor, shattering at your feet.

You pulled away to look at your shiny shelled friends. Sun’s rays were crystal clear and flawless, his eyes brighter than you’ve ever seen them. His candy ribbon ruffle’s colors were brighter, with extra thin stripes detailing them. Moon’s hat was extra soft and wafted the sweet scent of liquorice. His gummy candy collar and ruffles were fluffier and softer. They were so smooth, and had never looked better. Or happier.

The other candy beings started to shed their extra monstrous forms. They all shifted, shaking slightly to help the shedding along, new gloriously pristine forms showed them to you. Carl Cupcake looked at himself and let out a sound of displeasure to not being scary anymore, but it just made you giggle at his childish fussing.

“When you come back, we may have a secret password. Just say it’s our Cry baby, and we’ll know~” Sun grinned teasingly.

“Yeah yeah.” You rolled your eyes. “See you guys in a bit.” You said as you headed to the factory exit. The silent halls, once filled with screams, now had a soft lullaby starting. You glanced back at the group to see Puppet singing again, but more joy was in their voice than last you met them. Without their box, they seemed to flout in the air, their tiny numb of feet drifting off the ground. Moon started to sing with them, taking Sun’s hand. Sun joined in the song, making more of the candy being joyously sing together in their newly found freedom.

end :)

Masterpost | Prev

[dragonedged-if]

Chapter 1 launch.

Heyo, just dropping to say that the Chapter 1 has dropped and you can play it here.

So what to expect?

A semi-clunky complete stat bar(still in the works) with a detailed explanation of the stats and scenario examples in them.

Ride through the forest, picking who will you accompany.

Pick your weapon and gain a little boost on two stats(Don't worry there will more time in the future to train)

And more.

Also I want to thank @apollo-gate for helping me code my story, you should check their story, the RO's a plenty and each single one of them are wonderful. My advice date the one with huge and multiple red flags in them ;)

If you found bugs or errors SC them and I will try my best to fix it ASAP. Plus send me an ask if you have one :)

Word count with codes included: 124820

[runawaymun]

some very messy loose OC sketches for the sci fi series @the-commonplace-book and I are working on :D Man I just love these guys!

[kaladinkholins]

[fic] A New Ember

✨ Chapter 3 ✨

SUMMARY: Mizu continues to run from Taigen, but stops for a moment to ponder.

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Mizu/Taigen, Mizu & Ringo & Taigen

Characters: Mizu, Taigen, Ringo

Additional Tags:

Written Before Blue Eye Samurai Season 2, Canon Divergence, Set in My Delusional Version of Post-Canon, She/Her Pronouns for Mizu, Slow Burn, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Found Family, Mizu is Bad at Feelings, Taigen is Whipped, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary:

After Mizu successfully gets her revenge, she retires to a reclusive life in the Japanese countryside, cutting off ties with all her old friends, hoping to find inner peace in a life of solitude. But Taigen is not done with her yet. OR After a lifetime of running, Mizu and Taigen finally learn to slow down, turn around, and look back. When they do, they find each other.

BONUS - some memes for this chapter:

[king-nyx]

Pssssttttttt

wanna read ancient greek lesbians?

[total-serene560]

Fic Summary: A movie night, a DnD campaign, a Halloween party, an unhappy compromise, a rejection, and a letter. Mike and Will spend senior year trying to navigate the past, the future, and a growing tension between them that threatens to upend their friendship.

(A post-ST2 AU)

Ch.2 Snippet:

Mike breathes out, and Will starts to get up as he says, “Hey, let me drive you.” “No, it’s okay,” Will insists. “It’s raining like crazy out there,” Mike says. “I don’t…” Will trails off, he doesn’t know how to get out of this situation, “It’s fine, Mike.” “Seriously, just- please?” Will stares at the floor, shaking his head, “Don’t you have to go home?” “No,” Mike says, “Dinner’s not 'til seven.” “Oh,” Will says, and then he realizes he’s not gonna be able to avoid being alone with him any longer, so he looks over at Mike, who has his hand gripped tightly around the strap of his ratty old backpack as he stands there with his jaw clenched, looking all for the world like he just offered to defuse a bomb, and he nods, “Okay.” “Okay,” Mike says, like he’s bracing himself, “Okay."

New chapter is out! This time we get Will's POV!

tagging: @foodiewithdahoodie @sparks-olivarpente @maru-chu @greenfiend @booksandpaperss @magentamee @doriandrifting @itsacleanmachine (if you wanna be added or removed from the tag list lmk!)

[guidingthulite]

"Akiyama, what is this?"

"Why, I might be a beginner, but to say to my face that you can't even tell what I've drawn...!"

"I do know what this is, what I meant to ask is WHY."

"Ena lent me her tablet, so I wanted to make the most of it by drawing something truly great!"

"Why is Tsukasa wearing a dress?"

"I really wanted to draw one, so I asked him if I could draw him in a wedding dress, and he said yes!"

"Naturally, Akito! A star should look good in anything they wear, and this is no exception! I am quite pleased with the result!"

"Of course you'd say that..."

(CHAPTER 6 OF THIS IS LIKE MY SISTER'S SHOUJO MANGAS BUT WORSE OUT NOW! READ HERE!)

a better look at mizuki's drawing under the cut!

[thelastwarriornun]

I Found a Moment to Be Brave (so I let her know) [7/8]

“Jade, I swear to the gods if you don’t kiss me right now I might actually have you arrested for treason.” Fingers, warm this time slip beneath Jade’s layers ghosting across Jade’s lower abdomen. Whatever distaste Jade harbors for the cold dying as her need to touch Kit overwhelms every other sense. "As you wish." Jade shoves her gloves into her pocket for good measure. Her hands find their way to tangle in the hair at the base of Kit’s skull, steeling herself at the urge to fold at the hitch in Kit’s breath. Jade leans forward lips hovering just out of reach. "If you want to be kissed so badly make your move princess."

Continue reading on ao3

Full credit to @hgstuff for the amazing Tanthamore icons!

[stargazer-dreamer]

It's on the Tip of My Tongue Chapter 2

character: yami sukehiro

content warnings: denial of feelings, jealousy

reader: gender neutral; ring magic user

chapter list: 1, 2 [you are here]

notes: also on ao3. 2k word count. pre-relationship. part of the stoprewind verse

Mealtimes at the Black Bulls were chaotic. In the week leading up to your official first day, you had no idea—you hadn’t dined a single meal with them. Either out for lunch with Finral during a break, or so focused on getting your room cleaned that you didn’t notice the plate left for you at the door until it grew cold, you hadn’t sat down at the table with everyone until the ebony robe sat upon your shoulders and the paperwork was properly filed away. And even then, it took the witch coming out to find you and bring you back already in the thick of it to get you to understand exactly how hectic things could get.

It was well-past noon, and you and Yami had wandered aimlessly throughout the forest talking. It turns out, he was serious about getting to know you—but his version of this seemed to only consist of asking unrelated questions one after another until you were sure he didn’t actually care about the answers he was getting at all. It became quite repetitive, a question and a reply, the captain barely sparing a moment to reflect on your answer given until he’s moved on to the next.

He probably does this to all the new guys, you thought, stepping over a fallen tree branch in the path, to help them feel included. You were going to be living under the same roof—you figured the plan was that Yami would spend some quality time with you before returning back to his normal routine. Break the ice, learn some facts about you, converse a little. The two of you were, after all, supposed to be working closely together from then on out. It made sense that he would be working from a mental script—he was the captain. This was apart of the job.

Nothing else to it. Nothing at all. But I didn’t know Yami was such a poor conversationalist…

It was starting to get ridiculous. You watched as he bent to pick the branch off of the ground. Pausing for a moment, he slowly rose to full height with it in hand, an unidentifiable look sitting on his face. Eyes on the branch, you watched as his eyebrows furrowed. And then, in a large swooping motion, he whipped the branch to the side. You blinked. He did it again, and again, and again, and with one step forward one more time, before straightening back up again.

After a pause, he looked at you, tossing the branch to the side. He said—“What do you like to eat?”

For a moment, all you could do was stare. What kind of a demonstration was that? And that’s what he decided to ask you? Mouth opening trying to formulate a response, you were needlessly cut off by a rising, grumbling noise. It came from Yami’s direction. The longer it continued, you realized that it was coming from the captain himself. Namely: his stomach.

“Oh!” you bit back a laugh, understanding the question now. “Oh, you’re—okay, yeah! We can find a place in town. Here—” a ring left one of your fingers and hovered in midair between the two of you. “There’s a place I really like that serves—”

“There you two are!”

Voice drowned out by the sudden interruption, the two of you looked skybound. Up higher than the trees, a figure on a broomstick waved, her dark robe stark against the sky. Flying in a sweeping circle, she found a break in the treeline and descend; the wide brim of her hat fluttering in the wind as she did. Landing, she walked over with the stick over her shoulder. Her eyes shone like jewels, tinted lips curving the closer she got. She was recognizable even from a glance—Vanessa Enoteca.

“I was sent to look for you guys!” she said, with a hand on her hip. She was as beautiful as they say. Perhaps moreso, in person. “Figured you guys would be in town by now, but now that I think about it—this makes way more sense!” She smiled at you like she knew something, but you were certain you had absolutely no clue on what exactly that something was. Before you had time to respond however, her gaze traveled. “A quiet little outing—I didn’t expect that from you, Yami!”

The captain shifted his weight, reaching for a new cigarette and swatting at your still-floating ring, causing it to return to your finger.

The action didn’t go unnoticed, but, “Lunch is ready,” she was carrying on. “Let’s get back and eat!” And with that, she turned on her heels and started down the path with a bounce in her step.

Hesitating, you adjusted the now resting ring on your finger. The final piece of the puzzle put itself into place in your mind as Yami’s hand came down gently on your shoulder as he passed you, leaning down so his next words were heard by you only—“Next time,” he said, scratching the hairline at the back of his neck. The action drew him closer, and his next words came quieter, a rumble that shot exactly to where it shouldn’t—“There’s a place I like. I’ll take you.”

---

Despite the order of finding work, it seemed like the entire squadron was there; filling their plates high and chatting all the while, loud and boisterous—this was the Black Bulls you knew. Sitting in a circle around a rather large table, chairs and sofas had been moved to gather around; the common room transformed into a space to share a meal together. The noise was incredible, each person’s voice raised to speak over the other, seemingly in a constant loop that grew louder and louder by the second.

“Captain!” called the man with the mohawk. Magna Swing, with his gloves still on and sunglasses pushed up towards his hairline. “I saved seats for you!” He patted heartily at the loveseat beside him, nestled between him and Finral. “Come eat!”

Vanessa found a seat on the opposite end of the table—and it appeared that the only remaining place for you was right next to Yami. A bit sheepishly, you followed him into the fray and sat down. It was a bit of a tight fit—the loveseat was of average size but Yami’s bulk was anything but average. An unfortunate shift in your seat could have your thighs pressed up against each other—and following that specific line of thought, you snuck a peek sideways out of the corner of your eye.

He was silent, face once again unreadable as he filled his plate with the buffet before him. The reach of his arm going across the table towards the various foods stretched his muscles nicely, and when he pulled back, the shape of his biceps had you—

At least Finral was on the other side of you. “Welcome back,” he smiled. “You two were gone for a while.” There was a certain lit to his voice, one that brought to mind the memory of earlier in the day, when just about everyone had laid witness to the misunderstanding in front of the base.

Your face burned. “N-no! We were just talking!” You looked towards Yami but any additional input you hoped he would have provided was nonexistent—his plate now towered high with several portions worth of food. He slapped thieving hands away, the movement drawing your eyes to the ring encircling his finger. Stealing the light, it sat vivid against his skin and the scars that embedded him. A new connection; a bond formed between the two of you, the ring a symbol of your—

“We were just talking,” was your explanation. For everything. “Just walking around the woods!”

Finral gave you another smile, polite this time, and raised his glass to his lips. “Okay, okay. I won’t embarrass you.”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” came Yami’s voice before the overloaded plate was dropped in front of you. “Figured we’d talk in peace. Finally. What with you hogging up my new ride’s time and all.” His face was still indescribable, but the angle of his brows were curious as he locked eyes with Finral. “Couldn’t even offer a simple hello before you started portaling across the entire kingdom.”

There was a certain hardness coming from the captain. A pressure that weighed you down, leaving you sinking into the cushions as suddenly an awkwardness settled within the room; a haze that slowly drowned out every voice. Not so subtlety, conversations stilled and all eyes came to your side of the table.

Avoiding every gaze, you focused your attention on the food. There was just about everything on that plate, the entire buffet’s worth of selection spilling over each other and tumbling down the tower every so often—and a glance at Yami found him without a plate of his own. Admittedly, with so many different flavors and textures mixed together, it didn’t look very appetizing at all—but a fork was passed over to you, so you started to dig in, if only to appear that you weren’t paying attention.

Picking at the bread, you listened as Finral sputtered. “I was just doing what you asked of me!” his eyes flickered in your direction. “Come on, I’m not trying to—we still have a lot of places to mark—”

“Now you suddenly want to work.” Coming from Yami, it didn’t sound like a question.

You knew of Finral’s reputation—he was known to slack off, often found leisuring around the castletowns instead of working. You frowned, remembering that day in the alleyway. The two of you were paired up immediately, imprinting upon countless and countless of locations, so really, who’s fault was it that you were often together? Besides, Finral was working—what was wrong with that? From what you’ve heard, he was usually off flirting…

Cutting through your thoughts like a hot knife, your attention was pulled across the table towards the starry-eyed boy from before as he called out to you. The conversation happening at your side drowned out as you tried to remember the kid’s name.

“Asta!” he supplied. “From Hage Village!” You didn’t know where that was. “I didn’t get the chance to ask you before—what kind of magic do you use?”

His obliviousness to the confrontation happening literally right in front of him was a breather, causing a soft reset in the vibe at the table overall. Slowly, conversations started to pick back up and the noise level steadily grew—not to what it once was, but high enough to no longer be as obvious about the eavesdropping as before.

“It’s ring magic,” you explained, trying to concentrate. With multiple conversations happening all around you—including the one currently flying over your head—you were finding it exceedingly difficult to hear yourself. “I can do a lot of things with it, but it follows the basic functions of rings as a whole.”

Asta shoveled food into his mouth as he looked at you in awe. Without swallowing, he asked, “What’s that?”

“Communication. At least, that’s how I think of it.” You thought of playing with your mother’s jewelry box as a child, and fiddling with her rings. They were cheap things, bought on whims, but you didn’t care. They were beautiful; hers, a piece of her left with you while she worked long hours, away from home. You felt your heart start to swell at the thought of it. Inspired, you carried on. “A ring usually signifies a bond or status, so I can use them as communication or tracking devices. Opening portals is what I do the most though—it’s just so much easier to take one step as opposed to walking all the way across town.”

Suddenly solemn, your eyes lowered as you remembered: “It’s not a really desirable attribute though, since it’s so easily replaceable with actual magical items. And it’s no good in a fight.”

“What are you talking about? It sounds like you could do all sorts of cool stuff,” Asta chewed. “Besides, it doesn’t matter what other people think—aren’t you here because of your magic?”

You didn’t know what to say.

“If you want to learn how to fight, I can teach you!” A messy-haired boy spoke up from the other end of the table. You recognized him as Luck Volta; and if his reputation is anything to go by, you knew taking him up on that offer was a bad idea.

His static raising your hair already, you frantically shook your head—“No, thank you, really, I’m not good at that—”

“If you need help with your magic, you should ask Gauche!” A small girl was stuffing her face. As she paused to down her drink, you were able to catch a glimpse of her features—Charmy Pappitson. She pointed in the direction of the man in question. “He’s usually using an item, too—he could probably give you some good advice!”

Gauche Adlai was looking at a photograph in his hand, hardly touching his food at all. Monotone, he replied, “I only help my sister.”

“Focusing on one aspect of your magic isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” Vanessa sipped directly from a bottle. “You’re working on portals, right? I heard you can make a whole lot more than you used to—and it’s only been a week! You should give it a proper spin.” Before you could ask what that meant exactly, the shine in her eyes appeared again as she stood up from her seat. Circling the table quickly, she came to a stop behind you. With each arm, she pulled both Finral and Yami closer, encaging you in a huddle of sorts.

“Okay you two, I think we can all agree that Finral can take a little break,” she smiled. “Yami! Why don’t you two lovebirds go on that mission you were talking about earlier?” She shot you a wink, “The two of you are perfect for the job!”

[graveyardgremlins]

Chapter Nine of two slow dancers, last ones out has just been posted on ao3.

Summary: In Danny's desperation to help others, he finds himself involved with yet another vigilante. A ghost that does not behave like a ghost. This time, it may cost his anonymity and the protection it brought to the Infinite Realms. While he attempts to help the ghost, he will have to face his shortcomings and face his longest-standing rival one last time. And maybe save the universe in the process.

Or

Jason doesn't know how to cope with being a Ghost. So he decides that the healthiest thing he can do is to focus on his new crush. He is wrong. Obviously.

Here are the trigger warnings for chapter 9: suicidal ideation, mentioned self-harm, mentioned suicide, mentioned drug abuse/overdose, intrusive thoughts, implied addiction, unhealthy copying mechanisms, dissociation, anger issues, and PTSD.

Click here to read.

[majorproblems77]

Fluff, Fluff, Fluff!

Chapter 18! We are so close now, I can't believe we made it this far! I hope you enjoy some chain fluff to heal your day.

:D

[lemongogo]

wheres that post that talked ab vash’s conscious refusal to kill despite his desire to do so several times throughout the manga . it was such a good read on his deliberate commitment to pacifism and how its like .. smth he actively works towards as opposed to it being some inherent quality of his