#imagine if i actually grit my teeth and wrote the damn thing

[doonarose]

Right, so, Good Omens. Legit my favorite book, number one, since I was about 12 or 13 which was… some several years ago (I have tumblr Good Omens posts over ten years old! Gather round wee youngins). Loved the first season, did the book justice, love the actors, love neil, blah blah (a scattering of posts for this from four years ago). Closed circuit for me, though, no work to do, enjoyed, rewatched, enjoyed, left it be, waiting for season two (which I was reasonably convinced was an entirely bad idea, just like I’d been reasonably convinced a TV adaptation of the book was an entirely bad idea, and been happily wrong).

Second season – dunno what I was expecting – but it wasn’t that and I didn’t love it, I was a touch disappointed in it when I first finished it up, because I watched it distracted and having gotten up on the wrong side of the bed or whatever, but sometimes things take a while to settle and find their place in my brain.

We read a book called ‘I for Isobel’ in Year 11 of high school and I hated that book my first read -ranted about how rubbish a piece of literature it was – and my very wise English teacher gently promised she’d convince me otherwise. I still remember the earth-shattering shift in teenaged perception I experienced when I realized I could learn to love a piece of art I had adamantly despised and also, that it made perfect sense that a character such as Isobel could call herself a preposition and be equal parts right and wrong (I was also, most definitely, identifying as a preposition for a while there). Same with Pride and Prejudice, I hated that smug motherfucker and Elizabeth for losing her mind and fawning over him, a different English teacher again told me to sit with it, reread it, examine the angles. Both those books are still in my top ten.

And – don’t panic – at this point, of thinking and watching and thinking, I am enamoured with the second season of Good Omens. Different to season 1, and different to the book, but utterly gorgeous and complex, giddy and romantic and soft but infuriating. I mean, the season isn’t infuriating, in and of itself; it’s very good, except that it sets up our leads to be infuriating, and it does it on purpose and that is infuriating and boy, oh boy, do I love me a ‘shit communication’ trope. Even the dumb teenage humans are bad at communication trope (see: Glee) and the dumb alien and naïve human are bad at communication trope (see: Doctor Who), but, perhaps, especially, the intensely experienced, smart, worldly dumbass angel/demon duo are bad at communication trope. I can buy into the way that season ended in about two dozen different ways, but it certainly made sense to me. Some angles paint Aziraphale as a bit of a dumbass, a bit obtuse, a bit self-centred, and some paint Crowley as the poster-boy for self-sabotaging, woe-is-me, overly-willing martyr. Nothing deal-breakingly bad about those characters, just some very well-fleshed out, obvious flaws bubbling to the top.

So anyway, who the fuck is reading this? I’m writing it despite a ridiculously busy life just at this particular moment in time, because I miss writing. My whole job is writing. Emails, protocols, research proposals, reviews, scientific articles, and I’m just fine at that but Jesus Christ that shit isn’t character or place or emotionally anchored (it is 90% utter bullshit, honestly). We still teach the bloody undergrads to write past-tense, third person, passive voice for fuck’s sakes. We do an assignment where we take marks off for any sort of connotation-laden language and I lose my mind trying to explain to colleagues that their list of connotative words from the 1980s is no longer relevant. That six students choosing to call a particularly clingy amoeba ‘thirsty’ is very connotative and not at all scientific and actually, very much, hilarious.

I’ve known I miss writing for almost a decade. The fleet car I sometimes have to drive locked me out at a service station in the middle of nowhere for two hours. This happened several months ago and it triggered a medium-sized tantrum (for various other reasons) and I therapeutically wrote a 5600 word fictionalized (but honestly, very accurate and quite funny) account of the event. I sent that shit to my boss.    

Anyway, yes, I could write several, long, winding, satisfying fics to follow season two. But that sounds hard and like working in a vacuum and there’s so much source material to align with and so much fanon dissection ahead of me that instead, during all my long drives and boring seminars of the last ten days or so, I’ve been dipping into next kisses.

Because that kiss was rubbish (ohIlovedit). I have theories about that kiss that spin off into complex heaven and hell lore thinking and what all the nuance and foreshadowing mean, but I don’t, just now, have ten days to sit here and think and type (just about the kiss that I’m not at all convinced was primarily an actual kiss). So, I’ve just skipped season 3 (not a typo) and the whole second coming thing, and the whole them not being very happy with each other thing, and also, yes, them being woefully incompatible with each other (and the state of the universe) at the end of Season 1 and all through Season 2 and jumped to the end of Season 3.

It's a warm, sated, luxurious place to inhabit (built on an imperfect foundation of Neil writing the way I think he will, I hope, I’ll beg). They’ll be safe, happy, and openly in love with each other (yes, of course they’ve said it, Season 3 is over so they can’t have not said it – you fool!) and they’ll be talking (#NinaMaggieWisdom). Admittedly they’ll still be pretty shit at the ‘safe’, ‘happy’ and ‘talking’ bits, but doing quite reasonable at the ‘openly being in love thing’, actually.   

And I can totally buy into the ‘angels have no genitals’ thinking or the ‘angels have no gender’ thinking or the ‘angels are asexual’ thinking, that all makes a great deal of sense to me and can be written well, and I can read and enjoy (and could certainly see Season 3 play out like any of these). But I know I would really, really, struggle with those characters (and dare I say, with those actors (stop it)) and my own brain wiring and projection, with trying to not make them romantic.

So I’ve started to mentally play it out romantically. And then tactile. Which became touch-starved, touch-desperate, and all ‘pleasures of the flesh’ and ‘enjoying the human things’. Which, yes, of course, became sexual (do you not know me at all?) but calm down, please (I’m talking to me, lbh).

Anyhow. Next kisses, because that first one shouldn’t count. The timings are malleable, the order of 3-7 are interchangeable. There’s structure and dialogue (and choreography!) for all of them.

The second time (aka the first time it’s overwhelmingly, categorically right, albeit still complicated, and not at all as straightforward as it should be).

The third time (aka not really the third time because they don’t – they can’t – because it’s extremely awkward and weird, maybe they’ll never do it again).

The fourth time (aka, the first time since it was awkward that it’s not awkward, thank goodness).

The eleventh time (aka it’s like in the movies, there’s a rainstorm and they get wet and have to take shelter under an awning, oh my).

The twenty first time (aka the time someone thinks this is an appropriate way to inform their neighbours).

The twenty-fifth time (aka the first time they do it without thinking about doing it).

The forty first time (aka actually this time a bit more than kissing and it’s all together too good for Crowley (it’s not what you think, honest)).

The seventy third time (aka actually this time quite a bit more than kissing and it’s all together too good for Aziraphale (it’s totally what you think)).

I’m dumping this here after a long, personal post, because that way I can delete it and almost no one will have seen it. But it reads too well behind my eyes to not share (but I’m still tagging it because I’m a mysterious enigma of a needy bitch). A lot of this I came up with while driving and I had to stop myself from pulling over on a highway to scribble things down and that felling is gorgeous and so missed. So, I’m holding onto it for tonight by releasing a little bit of it into an abandoned, dormant blog, that seems to have a bunch of ghosts around.

I have scrawled notes from yesterday’s symposium to transcribe and flesh out. And tomorrow I’m getting a new couch delivered.

[bloodlessbelmounte]

Eternity Will Bring You Near - Chapter 1

Masterlist

Summary:

Wade understood that Logan was from a world where Alpha, Beta and Omega were everyday terms, not exclusive to red-pilled incel fuckheads who kept inventing new performative male genders. Wade would've been classified as a Beta. Logan, however, was an Alpha - Wade's read enough fanfiction and yaoi manga to know what that means. Though it doesn't explain why Logan keeps sniffing him.

Pairing: Alpha!Worst Wolverine/Deadpool

Genre: A/B/O, Smut, Domestic-ish

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Blood, Mild Gore/Body Horror, Masturbation, Additional warnings to be added as more chapters are uploaded.

Beginning Note: This was originally meant to be a crackfic but the bitch decided to become a multichapter project instead. I never thought I would get brain rot this severe over a movie of all things. The toxic old man yaoi really is a hell of a drug.

Cross posted to AO3

Heya kiddos- well actually no I hope you’re not kiddos. The following events aren’t exactly G-rated. Scratch that, not G-rated in the slightest. See the author’s girlfriend asked them if they had written anything gay before because and I quote “You’re the type of person I imagine would – you are very gay” and was very surprised to find her partner had, in fact, not written gay porn for a rabid audience (though they once wrote reader insert smut for one of the most rabid fan-bases – BTS anyone?). Lucky for her, the author’s autistic ass is currently hyper-fixated on my movie and has watched it twice. Now I know what you’re thinking: another re-imagining of the icon and highly erotic Honda Odyssey scene that the Tumblr girlies are going feral over? Sadly no, there are over a hundred-and-sixty interpretations of that situationship on AO3 already and the author is not up to that task. Self-conscious and insecure fuckface they are. Oh b-t-dubs, this will have mixed perspectives. So without further ado, let’s fucking do this. Maximum effort.

Deadpool didn’t imagine his epic team-up with his hero of heroes to end this way. With his noble self-sacrifice, blue anti-matter coiled around his wrist, coursing through his veins and dismantling him atom by atom and him helplessly reaching for the matter contained on the other side of this fucking bridge. No, to be honest, he imagined it ending with maybe a few drinks in a bar to celebrate victory before trying to convince Wolverine to hate fuck him. When have things ever gone his way?

You will never save the world. Ya couldn’t even save a relationship with a god damn stripper.

“Not now, flashbacks.”

Grunts of effort and pain as he was on the verge of dislocating his shoulder to just fucking reach the other fucking side. He had to save them. Give Peanut the restart he deserved. Give this world the hero it deserved. Madonna’s ‘Like a Prayer’ was ringing through his ears as he knew he needed a miracle. And just like a prayer answered, Wolverine was right there with him, gripping tightly to his reaching hand and bridging the gap. He had a few precious seconds to appreciate the washboard glistening abs that were explosively -gloriously- exposed to his greedy eyes before Madonna and the pain crescendoed. Oh, what he would’ve done to at the very least get a bit of frottage from that meal of a man. Deadpool and Wolverine’s shouts of agony as energy tore through them intermingled, part of the chorus only he could hear.

White. Everything was white. Burning hot and blinding. Then there was…

Nothing. No pain. No heat. Just weightlessness.

Until his body collided with a wall with a thunk and sprawled onto the ground. He couldn’t get up immediately, his healing factor working overtime to patch up the spider webbing network of atomised damage. Once the pain was tolerable enough, Deadpool stumbled up to his feet with gritted teeth. What did people say? Pain lets you know you are still alive. Well, he was definitely alive then. The smoke and debris in the air made it hard to breathe let alone see through his mask, that wouldn’t do. Ripping the miraculously intact material off, Wade idly wondered why his clothes were fine. Did the universe decide he was too much of an eyesore to strip? Or more logically, Logan’s metal skeleton made him more conductive. Shit.

Wade scanned the destroyed room, trying to catch a glimpse of neon yellow. Panic seeped in when he couldn’t immediately spot the older mutant. Please don’t be vaporised.

“Wolvie? Peanut?!”

A groan came from across the other side of the wreckage. Groaning was good. Groaning – in this case – meant pain or annoyance, which meant functional nervous system. Good. Good. Now, how to get across. Bridge is out of the question, it’s royally fucked. Which left clambering over crumbled walls that blocked the walkways. Goal set, Wade navigated his way over to roughly where he heard the groan emanate from, muscles protesting the whole time. Bright yellow peaked out from underneath the rubble. Logan’s knee to be precise. Wade sighed.

“Maximum effort.”

Wade got to work, moving aside the bricks that had landed on top of his partner, revealing a barely lucid Wolverine and- Holy shit. Big fuck off piece of metal shelving right through the stomach. Wade was pretty sure the only reason Logan wasn’t bisected was because of those metal bones of his.

“Take a deep breath, Honey Badger, this is going to hurt worse than the reviews for the Borderlands movie. Can you believe they’ve gotten a nine percent critics score on Rotten Tomatoes while we have a seventy-eight? They weren’t too happy about all the rectal stabbings. Have they not heard of queer allegory? Though we’re ninety-five from audiences. Must be all the sexual tension between us.”

As Wade was prattling on – partly running his mouth as always and partly to distract Logan – he unsheathed his katanas and slotted them into the wound and wiggled them under the metal.

“The fuck are y’doing, Bub?” Logan seethed through gritted teeth, trying to sit up only to be pushed back down again by the merc.

See Wade wasn’t always an idiot- “Hey I take offence to that.” -but he could have a smart idea every once in a while, such as now. Knowing that he did not possess the strength to pull out - “My pull-out game is strong I’ll have you know.” - the sheet of metal, a proper application of force would allow him to lever it out. Taking turns with what katana he pushed down on, he eventually worked the shelf out far enough for him to straddle the other man’s lap and rip it out the rest of the way with a wet squelch. Next to come out were his beloved weapons which he wiped in his elbow crease then re-sheathed.

Immediately Logan’s thatched lickable abs started to knit themselves back together. And Wade couldn’t stop his hands from wandering; tracing up his chest and neck to grab those blowjob handles, lean down, and finally kiss the crotchety old fuck like he’d been dying to for the past seventy-two hours. Because in for a penny in for a pound, who knows if he’d see him again when all is said and done. Logan went stiff beneath him and Wade froze in place, knowing in his bones that he was going to get pushed off. But then Logan relaxes and his arms wrap around Wade’s waist to pull him closer, his tongue sweeps across the seem of scarred lips asking for entry. Which is enthusiastically granted. Blood and iron assaults Wade’s taste buds as teeth knock and tongues dance. Of course, being over two hundred would make Wolvie a great kisser, the man wasn’t contractually allowed a flaw under Disney. As much as Wade would have loved to carry on sloppily making out and maybe slip his hand down what remains of Logan’s suit, he knew that even though he wouldn’t mind beating the crap out of a bureaucrat with a raging hard-on, the man beneath him probably would. And so semi-reluctantly Wade broke away with a sigh, Logan’s hands shifting to lightly grasp his hips.

“We should show that motherfucker upstairs just how alive we are.”

Of course, you gays, gals, and non-binary pals know what happens after that. We march our asses up to those pencil pushers resulting in two iconic lines – one of which is an Oscar-worthy delivery of my favourite word. There were some extreme levels of sexual tension between B-15 and Peter, Logan and I regenerate my timeline meaning my plan fucking worked and Logan got to stay here. We also got a fat stack of compensation each for our efforts. Now we cut to shawarma and see things from a grumpy puppy’s perspective.

Logan knew to expect some differences between this universe and his original such as there still being living X-men. And he knew that there was the fundamental difference of a lack of secondary sexes here but the distinct absence of pheromones everywhere made the air here seem… cleaner? Almost overwhelming in its purity. The scent of pollution, of food being prepared, of dog piss on the pavement undiluted. No Alphas peacocking. No Omegas trying to suppress and get by. Just “average” people living average lives. Like what was happening in front of him.

Logan, with arms crossed over and leaning against a wall, watched in amusement (not that he’d ever admit to it) as Wade went to place his order at the shawarma place he had led him to.

“I’ll have one beedo beedo, a chocobo supreme, and a mountain boo bah. What would you like Honey Badger?” Wade asked his elbow on the counter top, head resting on his hand as his body was turned to face his partner, ignoring how the server was looking at him like he’d grown three heads.

“Sir, this is a shawarma joint, we only do shawarma here. I have no idea what a beedo beedo is-” The kid behind the counter tried to inform the ADHD-riddled regenerator only to be met with a finger over his lips as he was promptly shushed.

“We do the talking sweetums, you just be a little patient. Wolvie? Anything in mind?”

Some rest would be a good start, then a shower and bottle of whiskey. An explanation on that kiss back there. But food was a good start.

“Ignore his ramblings, he’s had multiple head injuries over the last few days. We’ll have two beef and one chicken, all the salad. Obviously tarator sauce in the beef and toum in the chicken. As for drinks, give us whatever beer y’d recommend.” Logan noticed Wade’s jaw drop out the corner of his eye as he rattled off a proper order. The kid behind the counter pushed the finger on his lips away and nodded, inputting the order and printing off the details to pass to the cook. “What? Did y’think I’d never had this before?”

Wade blinked at him, “Well… uh… to be honest yeah. Didn’t take you for the adventurist foodie type.”

“Need I remind y’of just how old I am, Bub? I was around when immigrants introduced this to the country.”

“Oh, so you’re the original trendsetter for your universe. Speaking of, I’ve seen the fanfictions and read the yaoi, did your world have fated pairs and heat cycles? Do male Omegas just have a dick and ass or do they have a vagina too? Or did they just have a vagina? Did you have to take suppressors for your ‘Alpha Ruts’ to reign in your primal instincts?” Wade’s eyes shone with curiosity as he fired off questions, “Oh are we going to have to deal with those now that you’re in residence here? Maybe I should ask that TVA lady to get you like an inter-dimensional prescription.”

Logan sighed and rubbed his face, he had been expecting this line of questioning. Honestly, he had expected them to occur in the Void after Wade got offended for being called a beta-

“What in the Andrew Taint bullshit is that? They have toxic masculinity red-pillers in your world too? And you’re one of them? For shame Logi Bear. That’s why you’re the Worst Wolverine.”

-and the subsequent misunderstanding was cleared up. At least in the Void, there were fewer witnesses.

“In order: Yes to both. Dick and Ass. Yes, it’s a pain to get by without them or a partner. And that’s all I’m telling y’because it doesn’t affect you.”

“That’s no fun. I need the juicy deets,” Suddenly Wade gasped and pointed at him, “Do you knot?! Bite on the nape of the neck? Oh, I think I might just pop a chub at this rate.”

Logan growled standing straight and emitting his pheromones on instinct, “Enough. As I said it doesn’t affect y’so y’don’t need to know.”

Silence. Finally silence. And the faintest smell of something sweet.

“Order up.”

Logan took his two beef and handed the chicken to Wade alongside a beer, his own stuffed into a jacket pocket. They sat outside the shop in silence and in the time it took for Logan to wolf down one and a half of his order, Wade had only finished half before he started talking again.

“You know, the Avengers discovered shawarma in the sacred timeline.” He said, mouth still full.

Logan glanced over at him, “They’d be lucky to have y’.”

Wade had a considering look in his eye as paused chewing then nodded. The guy still probably had his insecurities and self-doubt that Logan definitely exacerbated in the Honda. Just as they were about to take another bite, barking and the sound of scampering paws were heading right at the pair. It was that fucking dog.

“Oh~”

“Come on,” Logan groaned, head falling back.

“Fuck!” Wade threw his half-eaten wrap on the ground and began the daintiest clap Logan had ever seen done by someone other than a white girl, “Come over here my little munchkin! Yes, it’s you~. You’re a survivor.” Wade picked up the ugly little thing, squeezing her tight and kissing her on the head. “Oh, all is right in the world. Yes, it is.” Wade turned to him, eyeing him up and down, “So what are you going to do next?”

Logan shrugged, “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

“That right? I’ll probably see you around,” A small smile was playing on his lips as he continued to gauge his response.

An impulsive thought wormed its way into his head, before he knew it he found himself quirking an eyebrow at the merc and proceeded to lie.

“Probably not. See y’, Bub.”

With that, he stood up and walked away as Wade continued to pet Dogpool. He threw the remains of his meal onto a table. A waste really. But all part of the plan. His pace was slow and measured, he was waiting. And when he heard the call of:

“Logan!”

He stopped, a small smile unable to be contained as Wade finally called him by his name. Not one of those childish nicknames. This had been what he was waiting to hear. He turned to face Wade, his expression schooled into a neutral facade.

“Stay with me- us.” Wade offered, pointing between himself and the dog.

Logan walked back over to him, “I thought y’shared a one-bedroom apartment with a lovely blind woman named Althea. Doesn’t sound like y’have much room for me.” Not much room in the apartment or his life. He wasn’t part of Wade’s world.

“There’s always room for one more. We have a pull-out sofa you can use. Not much privacy but it’s home. I only share a bed with Blind Al because I’ve been incredibly touch-starved since the breakup and need my bedtime cuddles.”

Logan huffed a chuckled, “That’s why I had to tie y’up, Bub.” A lie. In reality he had been planning to abandon Wade in that car. “Well, I’m not one to turn down a free roof over my head until I can sort out something more permanent.”

Before he knew it, he was following Wade to his home which was a lot closer to the TVA base and, subsequently, the shawarma shop than he had expected. Just down the street really. Meeting Al was sweet, it almost felt like being introduced to a parent back when he was a young man. And much like a mother, she swiftly turned in ire to Wade and slapped him on the arm with such precision Logan almost doubted her disability.

“Wade W. Wilson, you disappear after blowing out your birthday candles only to return with havoc in the streets and a man on your arm. You could have told us you were dating again. Peter was worried sick about you.”

It had been his birthday? The merc had spent his birthday trying to save his friends -his world – and was rewarded with a thorough verbal dressing down and a night of carnage in a car.

“Oh well, you know, it was the usual. I got abducted, told our universe was dying because someone had to go and nobly sacrifice themselves for the next generation of mutants. So then I hopped through multiple universes to find me a Wolverine who wouldn’t stab me on sight. Found this fella right here and got sent to the universal (not the studio) trash heap. Where I then proceeded to get my brain finger fucked by a bald long-nail-bedded bitch. Seriously they began at like her knuckle. Props to the costume department for that mildly disturbing detail.” Al’s inability to see didn’t stop Wade’s wild gesticulations as he described the events that happened to him. “And after a daring escape from her clutches, I had the best birthday car romp in a while. Became a real pin cushion for ‘im.” Wade sent Logan a wink.

Logan cleared his throat and avoided eye contact, a slight heat taking root in his ear at the implication behind those words. Al gagged.

“Wade, what I’m about to say is without a hint of homophobia: I don’t need to hear any more about your repulsive sex life. It’s bad enough I can hear you choking the chicken in the bathroom.”

Wade was laughing to himself as he meandered away from his now two room-mates and it was only slightly awkward until he returned with sweatpants and a tank top in hand. He shoved them into Logan’s chest along with a towel.

“Shower is through that door there,” He pointed to his right, “You reek of alcohol, blood, and Marvel H Christ knows what else. I doubt I smell much better – not like the Void had personal hygiene products lying around – but your odour can only be described as one of my twenty-eighteen suicide attempts from the second movie before I rewrote the events that triggered that spiral.” Wade looked off to the side, “You readers know which one I’m on about.” He mimicked an explosion sound as he ballooned his hands apart.

Logan was taken aback for a moment, processing that the seemingly always chipper buffoon had tried to kill himself at some point. However, he decided against acknowledging the trauma dump by just grunting his thanks. He took the offered clothes and beelined for the bathroom.

Alright fuck-os let’s focus on me again.

Shut up, Wade. I’m trying to write here.

Oh sure you are. I saw you reading other fanfics and some of my comic runs. And aren’t you on vacation now? I didn’t say you could take a break.

Sigh. Anyway…

Wade placed Mary Puppins on the floor and then immediately flopped onto the sofa, energy levels depleted and a deep set ache in his muscles. He waited for the sound of the shower starting before speaking.

“We’re not dating.”

“Not yet,” Al responded, somehow managing to give him a pointed look despite a) being blind and b) wearing sunglasses so he couldn’t see her eyes.

“The man hates me. Stabbed me many times on many occasions – not that I didn’t enjoy it.” Wade grumbled, sinking further into his seat.

“So why is he here?”

“He had nowhere else to go. I couldn’t just let him wander the streets after I abducted him. Not after he saved me.”

“So Vanessa announces she has a new boyfriend after you’ve been separated for two years and you went and kidnapped one for yourself. That’s a new kind of fucked up, even for you Wade.”

“Yeah I know, I’m a bigger fuck up than Ryan Reynolds accepting that Green Lantern role. I don’t need reminding. Again, we’re not dating. Manage to get your hands on some White Girl Interrupted while Feige’s attention was on the Void?”

“You might not be but you like him. You haven’t introduced someone to me like that since Vanessa. I still don’t know who the fuck Feige is but yes I did.”

“Good because I need some right now. I’m guessing you’ve put it in your sex toy drawer in an attempt to deter me but Al you always fail to remember very little disgusts me.”

Wade slapped his lap as he got up, signalling the end of the conversation. He went back to the bedroom and immediately opened the aforementioned drawer, sticking his hand in he rifled through dildos and vibrators of various shapes and sizes until he found a rectangular packet. Bingo. Oh, he was so going to build a snowman. Oh wait, this is fanfiction, not a movie, Feige has no control here. Wade can just say cocaine.

You guys are going to have to use your imagination here because the author doesn’t know how to write cocaine usage because they’re a pure little munchkin who only ever smoked weed like five times and sniffed poppers once.

Hey stop interrupting or I’ll make this a T rating.

Suitably buzzed and the throbbing ache of his muscles dulled, Wade grabbed a towel and a set of PJ’s to change into after his turn in the shower. His timing was seemingly perfect as he entered the living area just as Logan stepped out of the bathroom towelling his hair roughly, a steam plume framing him in a haze with the lighting hitting just right. The clothes lent to him a tight fit as they clung to the man’s muscular frame, hugging spots that weren’t completely dry yet. Dear lord, was that a dick print? Look at the size of that thing! He needed to French kiss whoever invented grey sweats. Whoever they are or were, he hoped they were getting laid six ways to Sunday. Wade found himself thanking whatever foresight he had since the white tank went near translucent in places like the dips of Logan’s abs and the swell of his pecs. He quickly wiped away the drool on the corner of his lips.

“Nice milk cans you got there, Wolvie. Hope you didn’t use up all the hot water,” Wade commented, eyes still roving over the other’s effortlessly erotic form. That’s the World’s Sexiest Man 2008 for you.

Logan slung the towel around his shoulders, a flush to his cheeks – from heat, Wade’s comment, or ogling who knows – as he seemingly took a moment to study the merc’s face.

“Is… Is that cocaine in y’nose? Y’pupils are dilated. Are y’high?” Logan scoffed in response, eyebrows pinched together.

Wade wiped his nose, “Did you know your pupils can dilate as much as fifty-five percent when you look at something or someone you love? Because I’m loving what a feast for my eyes you are.” He approached the grouchy man and rubbed a thumb between his eyebrows, which was swiftly slapped away with a grumble, “You shouldn’t frown so much, it’ll age you faster. As much as I am all for our old man yaoi dynamics I don’t want you looking like the Old Man Logan who shotgun blasted me.”

Wade patted Logan on the arm as he squeezed past him to get entry into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He chucked the towel and change of clothes onto the bathroom’s counter top, knocking over the toothbrush pot and a few other bits. He then stripped off the red leather suit, having to peel it away as dried blood and various other bodily fluids had acted as fucking glue. Bare as the day he was born, Wade turned the shower on and fiddled with the taps to get the temperature just how he liked it. Steamy, the same way he liked his homoerotic fight scenes.

Stepping in, Wade rolled his shoulders and took a moment to let the water ease his tight muscles.

“That’s the good stuff,” he moaned softly, tilting his head back eyes closed.

After what felt like a suitable amount of time had passed, he grabbed his loofah and body wash and went to town on getting the caked-on grime off of his scarred skin. The water flowing down the drain was a murky burgundy as sand, old blood, and who knows what else was washed away.

When the water turned clear Wade decided to focus on… other things. Mainly the beefcake wearing his clothes at that very moment, the walking wet dream he was. Visions of those sweaty tits floated through his mind, making his cock – which had already been at half-mast – twitch in interest. God, he had been dying to rub one out since he woke up tied against The Wolverine. He grasped himself firmly and gave a few tugs to get fully hard before teasing over the tip. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as tried to stifle his whimpers. He worked over his shaft as he recalled how Logan had smiled during their scuffle in the Honda, how his blood had dripped onto the older man’s cheek and into his mouth – on those fangs. Logan had licked the blood off with an almost feral look in his eyes before launching him through the sun roof. Fuck. He wasn’t going to last with how pent-up he was. His grip tightened as he sped up his ministrations. He remembered the kiss after saving the multiverse as he came with an embarrassingly desperate groan. Logan had kissed him back. Had held him close. Yet when all was said and done, he had been ready to leave Wade behind. What a confusing, grumpy hunk. With a shaky exhale he turned off the shower.

Wade towelled off and got dressed. His chosen PJ’s for the night were lavender shorts and a Hello Kitty crop top. Hey – crop tops were invented by male bodybuilders to get around gym attire rules, so never let anyone tell you men can’t wear crop tops. With dramatic zeal, Wade threw open the door and strutted out of the bathroom. He was not expecting to have two pairs of hazel eyes looking right at him. One in disdain and one in… appraisal?

Laura. Laura was on his sofa. Why was she here? Oh god… did Laura hear him jerking off?!

“Oh.” Wade squeaked, mortified as his body tinged a dark red. “Hi there.”

The girl, so much like her father, grunted in response and turned away. Speaking of, Logan had yet to tear his eyes away and if Wade saw correctly, he seemed to be… sniffing?

“Enjoy y’shower, Red?” The smirking fucker asked, then gestured towards Laura, “The TVA just dropped her off. She has nowhere to crash so Althea kindly offered her y’spot on the bed.”

Wade gasped and marched round to stand in front of the pair, “What? Where am I supposed to sleep? On the floor?”

“I’m not going to make y’sleep on the floor in y’own home, Wade. Y’ll be bunking with me on the sofa.” Logan patted the free space next to him.

Wade stiffly sat down in the offered seat and whispered incredulously to the older man, “What about my bedtime cuddles?”

“I’m sure y’can make do without.” Logan deadpanned but that infuriating smirk was still plastered on his face.

It was quite the jump from it just being Wade and Al in the shitty one bed apartment to there now being four people in the space of a few hours.

Wade huffed and crossed his arms, “We need to find a bigger apartment… Anyone feel like Chinese food?”

There was a chorus of agreement. Wade took Al’s phone off the coffee table and opened up the delivery app he used most, his favourite Chinese take-out was top of the recommended list. He put in what he and Al usually ordered then passed the phone to Logan. His former eyebrows shot upwards as the bi-centenarian successfully navigated the menus and selected what he wanted. It was Laura who seemed perplexed by the menu and the food listed. It was a sweet moment, watching Logan awkwardly explain what everything was when asked. Despite being virtually strangers, there looked to be a genuine connection forming already. Kin recognising kin on that instinctual level only Wolverines can experience. Wade took the time to tell Al and Laura all about the epic battle in the streets and how they saved the world with the power of hand holding as they waited for their food to arrive.

“You know Peter will have told everyone by now that you’re back with company,” Al remarked, petting Mary Puppins who had situated herself on the elderly woman’s lap. “They’ll be over tomorrow, I just know it.”

Wade felt Logan go rigid beside him, was he worried about Negasonic and the other X-men in his makeshift family? Oh, that was going to be a weird meeting wasn’t it. Not because they’d be seeing a ghost of their Wolverine, no. Their Wolverine was still alive and kicking, after all it’s twenty-twenty-four at the moment not twenty-nine which was when his timeline’s Logan was scheduled to die. See, Wade had used that TVA device to jump forward in time and exhume his remains because for the TVA all timeline events are happening simultaneously. So these X-men would be seeing a stranger who looked like their Logan, and Logan would be seeing the faces of those he had already lost in his world knowing he was going to lose them here too. Wade made a silent vow to keep Negasonic, Yukio and Colossus away from Westchester when the time comes. He liked those ones.

…Wait. All that timey-whimey stuff meant that Paradox, the dickhead, was going to set off the Time Ripper five years before this timeline’s OG Logan was meant to die. Was he really so impatient to ‘prune’ the timeline that he wasn’t willing to waiting for the self-sacrificing fuck to actually do the thing?

“Everyone except Weasel – his actor has multiple sexual assault allegations against him and that’s not a good look for us,” Wade interjected in a most likely misguided attempt to lighten the mood. All it got him, however, was Laura and Logan staring at him. “Hey, I don’t keep people like that in my social circle. I’m a good boy. Consent is sexy and if someone doesn’t take no for an answer, stab ‘em. Solves everything.”

Laura nodded at the sagely advice then looked towards the door and stood up seconds before knocking resounded from the entry way. Wade handed her the tip money as she walked by to answer. Food secured, Wade stood up, washed up some cutlery that would be needed and handed them out as Logan helped Laura to sort out the food and Al turned on the TV – Golden Girls was already playing. They mostly ate in silence whilst Wade made comments about the episode that was met with “Shut up” from various people. It wasn’t long until Al was retiring for the night and taking Laura with her to sort some things to wear. The girl was briefly sent out with bedding, blankets and spare pillows for the sofa.

“We should probably get the bed set up, sounds like we’re in for a long day tomorrow,” Wade suggested while clearing away the take out containers.

“We should… but we still have those beers from the shawarma place. In the fridge, if y’d like to have them now,” Logan offered, collecting up the dirty cutlery to put in the already overflowing sink. He grunted at the sight of it.

Wade retrieved said beers and handed one to Logan who released a single claw and used it to pop the cap off. He then did the same to Wade’s, who found that all too attractive, he had to think of puppies being kicked to stop himself from popping a boner then and there.

“Cheers. To saving the world!” Wade toasted, clinking his bottle against Logan’s.

“To saving y’world,” Logan grumbled, immediately taking a deep swig.

“Any particular reason you wanted to share a drink with me, Peanut?” Wade asked, sitting back down on the cushion he had previously occupied, eyes following Logan as he sat on the opposite side of the sofa with legs spread. Slut.

“Deserve it after the shit we’ve been through. Not everyday people like us nearly die.” Logan answered, gesturing between them.

“Thank you, by the way, for not letting me face death alone in the end. Despite the noble sacrifice, I wasn’t lying when I said I was scared,” Wade said, shifting in his seat to bring both his feet up. It just never felt right to have them on the floor.

Logan growled, “Couldn’t exactly let y’. As I said, I had nothing left to live for. Would have left me stranded here with no fucking clue who anyone was if y’had succeeded. Asshole move on y’part.”

Wade nursed his beer as Logan spoke. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought that far ahead in his rushed plan to save everyone. He placed his drink on the coffee table and tried looking anywhere but at the man casually spread across his sofa. Candid moments came as naturally as bottoming to him. Not at all.

“In that moment, when you offered yourself up and held that picture, I thought I needed to save those I cared about. Apparently, in the three fucking days we’ve known each other for, you became the tenth person in my world. Saving everyone meant saving you too – despite the stabbing each other.”

The silence that came afterwards made him uncomfortable, had him reaching for his beer to keep his mouth busy. He could hear Logan gulping down his before hollow glass clinking on MDF resounded through the room with an accompanying sigh. Wade finally looked at the other man, who just seemed tired. Ready to call it a night.

“What’s done is done, Bub. Just glad we both survived to see another day.” Logan pointed to the mostly full bottle in Wade’s hands, “Y’gonna finish that?”

“Oh, uh yeah. Hang on.” In a similar display to what Logan had done in that dive-bar he dragged him out of, Wade necked the bottle of beer, some of the liquid dribbling out the corner of his mouth. He impressed himself with how he managed to chug it down without needing to breathe – he thought those binge drinking muscle memories had long since faded. Once empty, Wade lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His gaze drifted over to Logan whose eyes, which were darker than usual (but that may have been down to the lighting), were locked on Wade’s throat.

“You good there, Honey Badger?”

Logan blinked a couple of times and shook his head, “Yeah just… just lost in thought. Let’s get the bed set already.”

Wade nodded and picked up their bottles, depositing them in a plastic bag that contained other used glass items. He then manoeuvred the coffee table out of the way so Logan could pull the bedframe and mattress out. It all felt rather domestic; pulling the bottom sheet into place, setting up the blankets and pillows together. The lights were turned off and the two men got under the covers. Wade really did try to go to sleep but for all his effort he was left tossing and turning.

“Will y’quit it? Is your ADHD so severe you can’t stay still even in your sleep?” Logan groaned, arm slung over his face.

“I wasn’t lying about needing bedtime cuddles, Logi Bear,” Wade hissed back.

Logan huffed and threw the arm closest to Wade over the younger man, “Fine. Y’can cuddle this arm. But just the arm.”

“Yay!” Wade cheered, eagerly rolling onto his side and wrapping his limbs around the offered arm like it was a tree to be climbed. “Goodnight, Wolvie.”

“G’night, Bubba.”

Did he just fucking call me Bubba?!

Wade was out like a light, the physical contact anchoring his racing thoughts enough to drift off peacefully.

That’s where you’re gonna leave it? I thought we were going to Pound Town?! THIS IS RATED E DAMMIT!

This was getting too long for a oneshot Wade. You’ll still get your trip to Fuckville don’t worry. It’s not tagged slowburn. Now go the fuck to sleep and I’ll see you next chapter.

[thesunicarusfellfor]

WAIT WAIT— what if 👀 what if Yandere!Tubbo and Yandere!Tommy falling for the reader at the same time

BROO— THE ANGST POSSIBILITIES

ooooooOOOOO DAMN this one is gonna be good! I love the way you think! So I wrote this as headcanons, but I will write this as an actual story if requested. ^^

This is not exactly implied romantic??? I'm still scared about writing their characters as directly romantic????? I'll probably get braver about it but still lowkey worried.

Yandere!C!Tommy x GN!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo Headcanon/Fic

Tommy, at first, completely denied even acknowledging your existence.

Until he saw someone interact with you.

Then he would start pulling out his sword or glaring at them from across the room.

He would definitely pin them in an alleyway and threaten every single one of their canon lives.

Tommy, please. Niki was just trying to give you cookies.

He's the kind of Yandere that would greatly keep his distance both physically, emotionally and mentally. Basically, he would be a Tsundere Yandere.

Tubbo, on the other hand, would be extremely sweet to you.

Need netherite? He had an extra few ingots ready in his pockets!

Interacting with someone who wasn't him? Was he not good enough for you??? Fine. You don't deserve him.

He would cry to you and make you feel guilty OR completely ignore you for a week straight until you come crawling back to him and apologizing.

Straight up can flip emotions like a switch.

The first time either of them realized the other liked you as well, was when they were listening to Mellohi on their bench, watching the sunset when they saw you having a conversation with Ranboo at the bottom of the cliff.

"What're they doing talking to him?" Tommy growled lowly and leaned forward to glared at the enderman who was talking to you. He reached for his bow n' arrow before Tubbo grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks, "What? I don't want them talking to anyone but me."

"What do you mean 'anyone but you'?! You avoid them like they're a virus!" Tubbo stared at him, digging his fingers into Tommy's bicep a small bit to show his anger a bit more, "They should only be talking to me."

The blond turned towards his brunet friend and yanked his arm out of his grasp, "Excuse me?" He glared into Tubbo's dull blue eyes, gritting his teeth, "You do nothing but give them stuff!"

"And you treat them like shit and avoid them!" The smaller of the two retorted angrily, trying to keep his tone level enough to where you didn't hear.

Mellohi, the music that had been playing mere moments ago, slowly came to a stop and left nothing but silence and tension in the air. You had noticed them arguing from below, but Ranboo (who had heard their entire argument) decided to pull you away from them and bring you to the Tundra.

"Are you trying to take everything from me?!" Tommy tightened his grip on his diamond sword, although part of him knew that if Tubbo equipped his netherite armour, there would be absolutely no competition whatsoever.

"Take things from you?! They're a human being and you choose to ignore that fact when you ignore them or call them terrible names!"

"I treat everyone like that! You already have Ranboo, I don't understand why you're chasing after them with hearts in your eyes when you're fuckin' married! Loyal much! Oh wait, you aren't loyal, you EXILED ME!"

"It's platonic! I told you that already! And you're starting this again now, Tommy?!"

Ranboo actually felt nervous leaving you alone around both Tommy AND/OR Tubbo after hearing their entire argument that day.

Tommy, although now a lot nicer, became extremely clingy towards you and constantly would walk over and drag you away mid-conversation with anyone that wasn't him. ESPECIALLY if you were talking to Tubbo.

Man would bring you everywhere with him if you would let him.

Netherite mining? Get your pick.

To get new discs? Pack your bags, we're going on an adventure.

Straight up does everything he can do to get you away from Tubbo because he's petty.

He tried giving you as many gifts as Tubbo, but mans is broke.

Tubbo would get extremely annoyed by Tommy even just walking through the area when he was with you.

Would start to hold your hand or link arms with you (if you're comfortable), just so Tommy couldn't pull you away as easily.

Started to try guilt-tripping you into living in Snowchester, and even tried to get you to live in the mansion.

Ranboo actually lied to Tubbo, saying he was scared of enderwalking and hurting you, to convince Tubbo not to guilt-trip you further into living in the mansion.

Tubbo's constant gift-giving got so much more extreme.

Want netherite ingots to make armour?

Nope. No lifting a finger.

He already made you fully enchanted netherite god armour anyway.

Has definitely tried to convince Ranboo to let him involve you in the platonic marriage.

"Ranboo! My beloved!" Tubbo called jokingly, walking into their home. He kicked the snow on his boots before pulling down his hood and taking off his hat, hanging it on the hook as he took off his footwear, "I have a proposition for you!"

The monochrome-coloured man lifted his head and set down the journal in his hand, the ink likely still wet judging by the quill in his hand, "Yeah? What's that?" He placed the feathered pen in the pot of ink and turned to face his platonic husband.

"What would you say to extending our marriage to three people? Like a polyamorous relationship. Like Sapnap, Karl and Big Q?" Tubbo sat down in the chair beside him, watching as Ranboo was left reeling for a few seconds.

"W-well, one, I think you mean expanding. Two, with who?!" The tall male sat up quickly, bumping his leg on the table from his minor flailing, "A-and, and, what about Michael? Are you sure they can be trusted with him?"

Tubbo held out his hand to calm his friend down, making his friend put his hands down so he didn't accidentally hit something, "You know what I meant, and (Y/n)! Y'know... Like, the one with (h/l) (h/c) hair, (tall/short)! (Y/n), them!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know who they are, it's just..." He paused to gather his words, glancing away from his friend. In all reality, he wouldn't mind inviting you into the platonic marriage, even if he knew Tubbo felt more romantic feelings towards you. He didn't shut up about it. It was the fact that he was worried about what kind of mental manipulation Tubbo would do to you if you did agree to be in the marriage. Or even what Tommy would do to you or Tubbo!

"...Just?"

'Your relationship with Tommy is beyond screwed already... Imagine what would happen if both of his friends left him to be in a platonic relationship with me. Tubbo, all of us would be in severe danger.' He thought silently before taking a breath. "I-I don't have my enderwalking state under control... I'm already scared for Michael enough, and I don't want to hurt her as well... Give it some time and we'll see. Please.." He whispered, lying through his teeth. Ranboo knew you were damn good at protecting yourself and could knock his long and lanky ass to the dirt within seconds.

Tubbo's bright shiny eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment as his smile began to falter, "Ah... Yeah. I guess that makes sense. For their safety I suppose." His normal look returned and he gave him a smile, "Yeah, that does make a lot of sense. I'll ask again next month to see what happens."

"What... What about Tommy-"

"What about him?" He demanded sharply, his smile vanishing in mere seconds which caught Ranboo off guard yet again, "He doesn't need to be in their life. He would do more harm to them than good!"

Ranboo was left gaping, his mouth moving but not creating any sounds. He watched as Tubbo eyed him carefully before he got up, murmuring something about grabbing food then going to bed.

Once the goat hybrid was completely out of sight, Ranboo reached for his memory book and took the quill again.

'Protect (Y/n) from Tubbo and Tommy. Get them out of DreamSMP.'

Ranboo was scared for you.

He was stuck watching as these crazy two men fought over you, threatened you, manipulated you... It was worrying, to say the least.

Don't get him wrong. If he didn't have an adopted son, a platonic husband that he still cared about despite him being another Dream at this point, and a Syndicate to protect him from, he would've packed everything and ran, bringing you with him.

He was practically walking on eggshells around this man that he had once been extremely close to!

It practically sent shivers down his spine...

Eventually, it got to the point where Ranboo had gone to your house in the ungodly hours of the morning to talk to you.

This man LITERALLY crept into Tubbo's room AND Tommy's house to make sure they were both asleep before going to talk to you.

"Ran... Boo?" You asked, yawning softly as you leaned against the door, your hair all frizzy and messed up, "What's up? It'sssss... Like 5:30am. The sun is barely even up..."

"(Y/n)... Can we go inside? Please... There's something very wrong.." He murmured softly, his memory book tightly held in his grasp as he glanced around. Tommy could be waking up sometime soon, and he did not want to get caught talking to you. He would certainly be down a canon life before he could even say 'sorry'.

You watched the nervous man in front of you and nodded before stepping aside to let him in. Peaking outside, you looked around for what was causing him to panic but went back inside once you didn't see anything. "What's wrong?" Softening your tone, you gestured for him to sit at the table while you made coffee.

Once he had a fresh mug of coffee in front of him, Ranboo slowly began to gather his nerve and speak. He told you everything he could remember, and even opened his memory book to tell you about the things he didn't remember. Everything from the fight where Tommy and Tubbo's friendship completely went downhill a few months ago, to the threats Tubbo used against Tommy, the manipulation against you, the threats he had received by talking to you, and even Tubbo's violent mood switches when talking about you or Tommy.

The entire time, you just sat there wide-eyed as you listened to him ramble on about his fears and worries, and everything in between. He even mentioned wanting to actually divorce Tubbo because of how scared he was for you and his own life. "I don't... Not... Believe you... But this is- this is a little difficult to believe." You knew the enderman hybrid wouldn't lie about something so serious, and he definitely wouldn't be shaking like a leaf if it was a joke or a lie.

"Y-yeah, I expected that... But I really do care about your safety, honestly. You know I wouldn't joke about this kind of thing, especially about Tubbo." He murmured softly, looking at his crown laying on the table in front of him, "In all honesty, I came here this early because I was scared about Tommy trying to kill me if he saw me talking to you..."

"He wouldn't ki-"

The door slammed open dramatically and there was a cheerful shout of your name, "(Y/n)!!! Let's go mining for diamon-" Tommy walked into your kitchen, only to freeze mid-step and midfacial expression. His expression went from surprised to annoyance to a grim smile, "Hello Ranboo!" He gave him a smile that was more like baring his teeth as he twirled his axe nonchalantly.

He was going to hurt him...

[helloalycia]

girl next door [three] // wanda maximoff

summary: the time has come where you realise your boyfriend just isn’t worth it, and your neighbour may or may not be an Avenger

warning/s: none i don’t think??

author’s note: part 3 is here! I kinda got carried away and wrote two more parts so my bad, but i hope you like it!

part one | part two | part four | part five | masterlist | wattpad

I couldn't be bothered with today. I just wasn't in the mood to go to work, so of course, I procrastinated as much as I could in the morning until it was finally time for me to get out of bed without being late.

Teddy had fallen asleep here last night after we watched a film, but he left earlier for work, so it was just me. I knew I had to break it off with him, it was time. But I didn't know how to tell him without hurting him. So, I was cowardly in that sense, which was only worse because I was leading him on. I'll find a way to say something soon, I promised myself as I took my clothes off and wrapped a towel around myself.

When I headed to the bathroom, I immediately slipped on the wet floor that only one person could have left behind. But, unlike the many times I had done so, I wasn't able to catch myself and instead fell on my leg, hearing a deadly crack noise, forcing a scream from my lips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," I got out through gritted teeth, tears slipping from my eyes. The pain was unbearable and as I looked to my leg, I knew something was wrong because it instantly began to swell up and change colour.

Taking deep breaths to get through the pain, I tried not to imagine the several ways I was going to skin Teddy alive. He was so ignorant! How many times did I have to explain to him how dangerous it was to leave the floor wet?!

"It's okay, Y/N, you're okay," I told myself, before stretching and grabbing my phone from the side.

A striking pain shot up my leg and I suddenly felt nauseous, unable to deal with it. Swallowing hard, I called Teddy to give him a piece of my mind but also ask for his help since I couldn't move. Unfortunately for me, it went to fucking voicemail making me scream with frustration. I clenched my jaw as I tried to stand up myself, but more tears rolled down my cheeks as I accepted I was stuck.

The next person who came to mind was Wanda. If I was lucky and she wasn't at work, she'd be able to help me up and get me to a hospital.

I called her next and thankfully, unlike the arsehole that was my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, she answered.

"Hey, Y/N!"

I breathed out as calmly as I could. "Hi, Wanda. I, er, I need your help."

"Everything okay?" she asked with concern.

I nodded, though I felt really sick as I tried to avoid looking at my leg. "Yeah, well– no. This is really embarrassing, but I slipped on the bathroom floor and I think my leg is broken. Please can you come 'round and help me up?"

"Shit, Y/N, of course!" she exclaimed.

"Thanks," I got out breathily. "Spare key is taped under the plant pot outside my door."

"Just hold on," she insisted, before hanging up.

I dropped my phone to the side and glanced down at myself, definitely embarrassed that I was sat here in my underwear and bra, but also glad that I wasn't completely naked.

As promised, Wanda came as soon as possible and I heard her approaching the bathroom before she squeaked and covered her eyes.

"S-sorry!" she said, flustered. "I didn't mean to look. I just–"

"Wanda, you need to see if you're to help me up," I said as nicely as I could without snapping from the pent up anger reserved for Teddy.

She removed her hand, though her eyes wouldn't meet mine. "Right, yeah, duh. Okay, er..."

Successfully, she managed to lift me up and let me use her for support as we limped to my bed and I took a seat.

"Can you pass me my–"

"Clothes, right," she caught on, still not meeting my eyes, before moving around the room to grab a shirt and shorts.

I put my shirt on with ease, but she had to help me with my shorts as I tried my very hardest not to cry from the pain. My leg, or rather my knee, was turning a yellow-purple colour pretty quickly, making me flinch.

"How did this happen?" she asked with worry, gaze falling to my leg.

I clenched my jaw. "My stupid fucking boyfriend. I've told him so many fucking times to mop the damn floor! And he always says okay, but he never does! Oh, boy, when I get my hands on him, he's gonna wish he'd never been born!"

"Y/N–"

"And can you believe he has the audacity to have his damn phone switched off?! I could be dying and he wouldn't even know! That selfish, ignorant son of a–"

"Y/N!" she called, snapping me out of my rant. "Hospital."

"Right, hospital," I agreed. "No ambulances because they're way too expensive. Maybe you can get me down to a taxi and I'll take it from there?"

She raised her eyebrows with disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

I mirrored her expression. "Er, no? Ambulances are like $700, and even with my insurance that's like $400. Taxis are, what, twenty bucks?"

She wasn't convinced as she crossed her arms and stared at me with uncertainty. I sighed and tried to stand up, but I pulled a face at the pain. She was quick to help me stand, giving me support on my right side.

"This is gonna take a while," I mumbled, biting back annoyance.

"Don't hate me," she said suddenly.

I looked to her, furrowing my brows. "What are you talking about?"

She avoided my gaze and instead swept me off my feet quite literally, taking me by surprise. I wrapped my arms around her neck on instinct, eyes widening as she held me close, bridal-style.

"Wanda, you can't just carry me like this," I said, though I was surprised at how strong she was.

She ignored me and walked out the bedroom before stopping at the fire escape. I gripped her tightly, wondering what the heck was going on. There was a hint of red in her eyes, startling me, before I noticed the two of us rising into the air. Levitation, to be exact.

"Woah!" I shouted, holding her as tightly as I could. "What the hell?! How–?! What–?!"

As she flew us away from our building, there was a red hue floating all around us, like an energy I'd never seen before. Except it seemed familiar... and that's when I put it together.

"You're that Avenger!" I blurted out. "The witch, the one with all the magical powers! You're– you're– Oh my God."

She frowned, eyes darting to mine apologetically. "I know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

I swallowed hard, fearfully glancing over her shoulder at the clouds interwoven with the tall buildings of New York. Never in a million years did I think I'd be flying amongst them, with an Avenger nonetheless. She'd fought at the battle of New York, I remembered seeing her on the TV. She was dubbed an official Avenger not long after, but then coverage of her went quiet... because she'd moved away. It made so much sense now!

"I knew I recognised you," I said with disbelief, studying her face closely as I now knew who she was.

Her eyes still had a red hue surrounding her irises, matching the energy surrounding us as she flew us to, presumably, the hospital.

"I didn't intend to hide it," she explained guiltily. "I thought you'd figure it out. But then you didn't and it... it just never felt right to bring it up."

I thought back to the random hours she worked, the spontaneity of being called in for her shifts, her whole backstory for crying out loud... how stupid could I be?

"This... this is a conversation we should have," I said, nodding slowly, "but maybe not right now."

"Right, yeah." She nodded in agreement, jaw tensed as she stared ahead. "Just hang on."

–

After getting an x-ray at the hospital, the doctor told me I'd need to go into surgery so they could realign my knee – it wasn't anything concerning, but I wasn't exactly over the moon about it.

I returned to the hospital room to find Wanda had been waiting for me. I'd say I was surprised, but I was more grateful that she stayed. We hadn't had a moment to speak about her whole Avenger situation, and she was oddly quiet about the whole thing, so I decided to ease it into conversation whilst waiting for the doctors to return to prep me for surgery.

"You know, you didn't have to stay," I said to her, watching as she distracted herself with the stuff on the bedside table. "It's only a broken leg."

She stopped whatever she was doing and gave me a knowing look. "It's not only a broken leg. And I just thought you might like the company. Who else is going to make sure you're okay?"

I offered her a small smile. "Thank you. But the surgery is gonna take a while. I'll head home after and catch up with you then."

She seemed against the idea, but said nothing, before resuming whatever she was messing around with. The tissue box, I think.

"So... magic, huh?"

She swallowed visibly. "It's, er, not magic... at least, not exactly."

I hummed in acknowledgement, still adjusting to the fact that she had actual powers. It was amazing and unusual all at once.

"It's okay that you didn't tell me you know," I said gently, making her glance at me. "You apologised earlier. Back when we were–" I breathed out, still in mild disbelief, "–well, flying. You didn't need to. You don't have to be sorry about anything, Wanda."

She frowned. "But I lied to you."

Her Sokovian accent was more noticeable when she was upset, I noted. I wondered if she realised.

"You didn't lie, per say... more like bent the truth," I tried to make her feel better, stifling a laugh. "Either way, it's alright. Well, for me anyway. I don't know if you wanted to tell me or–"

"I did," she cut in with nod, eyes focused on me. "I wanted to."

I hoped she couldn't hear the way my heart rate picked up a little. "Okay, then I don't see a problem. You're still the same Wanda, just with a little something extra, right?"

Her shoulders relaxed and a small smile tugged at her lips. "Right."

I mirrored her expression, holding her gaze for a moment longer than necessary, before tearing away when I heard the doctor enter the room. After prepping me for surgery, I headed off into the operating room and made sure Wanda knew she didn't have to be there when I came back.

They put me under, so I wasn't awake until several hours later when I woke up to horribly bright, fluorescent hospital lighting and the accompanying nasty disinfectant smell filling the room. The first thing I noticed was the giant cast on my leg, followed by the sleeping brunette in the corner of the room that was Wanda. I would have questioned why she was there as my first thought, but I couldn't help but take notice of the lovely room I was in – for starters, it wasn't shared with other patients like I expected.

"Wanda," I called, my voice rough-sounding, but she didn't stir in the slightest.

I chewed on my lip as I found the remote that controlled my bed, using it so I could sit up. I was able to grab the water on my bedside table and take a few sips before calling for her again, sounding a lot better. To my relief, she began to wake up, eyes blinking open and looking around with confusion before realisation crossed her face and she settled on me.

"You're up!" she exclaimed, before a yawn escaped her lips.

"And you're here," I returned, hinting my confusion.

"I told you I was staying," she reminded me, before standing up and approaching my bedside. "Had to make sure you were okay. And obviously to help you home. By taxi, not flying, don't worry."

I smiled at her caring nature, expression softening at how cute she was.

"Also, before you ask," she added, "your hospital bills are taken care of. Hence the room."

I lost my smile, eyebrows raising. "Come again?"

She sat at the edge of my bed, getting comfortable as she looked out the window opposite us. "I didn't want you worrying about it, especially when none of this was your fault, so I called in a favour at the Avenger's compound. Tony owed me."

I almost forgot how to breathe as my eyes widened. "Tony Stark? The Tony Stark? He's paying for my hospital bills?"

She looked to me, a hint of panic in her eyes. "I hope that's okay. I mean, I knew you would say no, but I feel like I should've done something. You've done so much for me and it was only fair."

"I can't believe..." I trailed off, losing track of what I was going to say, still shocked. It made sense with her being an Avenger, but it was still hard to believe.

"You still with me?" she joked, her hand resting on mine.

I cleared my throat, ignoring the warmth from her skin touching mine. "Yeah, sorry. I just– wow. Still digesting is all."

"Don't worry too much about it," she said gently.

I nodded weakly, swallowing hard and avoiding her gaze.

"I should go get the doctor and let her know you're awake," she said, letting go of my hand. "You okay on your own for a minute?"

"Yeah, of course. Thanks."

After a chat with the doctor and an explanation of how everything would play out from here, I was getting ready to leave for home. I got changed out of the annoying hospital gown in the bathroom attached to my hospital room (another perk of Tony Stark paying for my bills – no shared toilet) and was in the middle of adjusting to my crutches in my room when there was a knock on the door.

Wanda and I paused as we looked up, and I was about to say for whoever it was to come in, but the person came in quickly and without waiting. To my bitterness, it was Teddy of all people.

"Oh my god, Y/N, there you are!" he exclaimed upon seeing me. "I got your message, both of them. I was so worried!"

In addition to the message I'd left him when breaking my leg, I also left him another before the surgery to see if he actually cared enough to check in. Clearly not.

I gripped my crutches to get out my frustration. "It took you long enough. I went into surgery five hours ago."

He scratched his head awkwardly. "I was at work."

I rolled my eyes, promising myself I wouldn't snap, but the annoyance of everything happening was building up and I couldn't help but blurt out, "I told you to mop up when you freakin' showered, Teddy!"

"I did!"

"No, you didn't!" I shouted, raising my voice. "If you did, I wouldn't be in this fucking cast!"'

He winced. "Are you, er, sure that it was the water that you slipped on?"

I clenched my jaw, knuckles turning white from how hard I was gripping my crutches. I didn't care that I was temporarily crippled, all I could see was red.

"Am I sure?" I repeated his question, tone laced with anger. "Am I sure?!"

I attempted to lunge forward, but Wanda seemed to know what I was thinking before I did it, holding me back suddenly.

"Y/N, just leave it," she mumbled, eyes meeting mine.

Something about the way she looked at me made my anger temporarily melt away, and I almost forgot why I was mad, until...

"Who are you?" Teddy asked with confusion.

Wanda and I looked to him, figuring he was just being his usual rude self, but he genuinely had no idea who she was as he studied her curiously.

She blinked with disbelief. "Wanda....?"

He waved his hand, motioning for her to say more.

Wanda raised a brow with offence. "Y/N's neighbour...?"

He pursed his lips, eyes squinted with thought.

Wanda almost scoffed. "Really? You got nothing?"

He chewed on his lip, genuinely stumped, and I couldn't help but groan with frustration, earning his attention.

"Of course you don't know who she is!" I glared at him. "You don't listen to a word I say! Not about this, not about mopping the floor–!"

"Y/N, just calm down!" he cut me off, only adding fuel to the fire.

"No," I said sternly, before nodding to the door behind him. "You can leave. You have no need to be here since we're not together anymore."

He raised his eyebrows with shock. "Seriously? You're breaking up with me? For what?"

I breathed out through my nose, genuinely stunned at how I managed to stay with him this long without either losing my mind or killing him. I could swear he wasn't this stupid when I met him.

His eyes fell to Wanda with distaste. "Is it because of her?"

"Did you actually manage to get stupider since this morning?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Because I totally accepted when you said you were bisexual," he continued, "but I didn't think you'd actually leave me for a woman."

I pressed my lips together, looking to my shoes as I tried to talk myself out of not killing him there and then. The fact that he was blaming the breakup on anyone but himself was disappointing but not surprising.

"Can you leave now?" I finally spoke, looking up to him with expressionless eyes.

His smile of disbelief turned into a scoff as he headed for the door. "Whatever. Your roast lamb is shit anyway."

I scrunched my face together with annoyance, unable to stop myself from yelling, "No it isn't!" as he walked out the door.

Unexpectedly, I saw the familiar red wisps of energy by the door before it suddenly slammed shut, smacking Teddy in the butt and propelling him forward with a start. He turned around to look through the glass, expecting to blame someone, but Wanda and I were nowhere near the door, so he glared our way before storming off.

"Sorry," Wanda said, referring to the door, lowering her hand and red eyes returning to normal. "He's just a real dickhead."

I tried not to laugh as I nodded in agreement, already feeling better. "You're not wrong there..." I sighed, losing my smile as I gave her an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry for everything he said. Again."

Wanda rolled her eyes dismissively, shrugging her shoulders. "You should really stop apologising on his behalf. Especially since he's not your boyfriend anymore."

I relaxed my shoulders, leaning against the bed and looking to the floor. "Yeah, you're right... I just can't believe I put up with him this long."

Wanda didn't respond, but I heard her make a weird noise before she fake-coughed terribly, making me look up. Trying ever-so-hard to suppress a smile, she shook her head apologetically when she realised I noticed.

"Sorry, I– it's not funny," she attempted.

I smiled with amusement. "What?"

She licked her lips, before giving into her smile. "I just– I can't believe it either sometimes."

I breathed out with defeat, my smile turning into laughter alongside her. Eventually, she continued to help me with my crutches before I got the hang of it and the two of us began to leave the hospital. On the way out though, a random thought dawned on me and I stopped walking suddenly.

"What is it?" she asked worriedly.

I looked to her with curiosity. "That guy who stopped by your place a while ago. Your friend. Are you telling me that was–"

"Captain America?" she filled in with an amused smile. "Yeah."

"Woah." I was amazed, eyebrows raised as I let that sink in. I spoke to the Captain America and even implied he was a stalker. Woah.

"Come on, idiot," she laughed before leading me out the hospital, finally.

–

Breaking up with Teddy was long overdue, and whereas I thought I would feel bad for doing so, it was quite the opposite. I felt better, freer, unrestrained by the stupidity that was my ex. It was a few days after leaving the hospital when I found myself sitting on the couch with Wanda. She'd been helping me during my recovery, even though I insisted I was fine alone. She, of course, didn't listen though, and I was secretly glad because it meant I could spend more time with her.

"What about that fork? Can you move that?"

Wanda gave me a knowing look from the other end of the couch, amusement knitted in her smile. "Yes, Y/N."

To prove her point, her eyes glowed red and she flicked her hand, raising the fork on the dining table up in the air before setting it down.

I was amazed. "What about that cushion?"

She stifled a laugh before levitating the cushion between us and setting it down.

"And that book?"

"I have other powers, too, y'know," she pointed out, but levitated the book nonetheless.

I grinned. "Yeah, like flying."

She nodded in agreement. "Yeah, like that..."

And this.

"Woah!" I said with a start, eyebrows raised with surprise. "Did you just– what?!"

She laughed, the sound sending a swirl of butterflies in my stomach. Her eyes sparkled as she met my gaze, amused by my amazement.

"You can speak in my mind?" I asked in bewilderment.

"I can read minds, too," she continued.

"Wow." I breathed out, still not used to her having powers. Suddenly a thought came to mind and I glanced at her. "Have you, er, read my mind?"

"Never," she assured me, before adding with a head tilt, "at least not on purpose. Sometimes, if somebody's thoughts are too loud, I can't help but hear it."

I felt my face heating up as I avoided her eyes. "But my thoughts are quiet... right?"

Every potentially-embarrassing thought I'd ever had, including those I'd had of Wanda, came to mind and I suddenly grew nervous to her answer.

"Er, well, I mean..."

I looked to her when I heard her forming an answer, but the look on her face told me she had heard my thoughts at times and I ran a hand down my face with embarrassment.

"I promise it's never anything embarrassing or anything," she tried to make me feel better.

I groaned quietly, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Hey, I promise," she said with reassurance, before I felt her rest a hand on mine and squeeze it gently.

"What was the last thing you heard?" I asked, trying to veil my curiosity with a shrug.

I felt her gaze on me and looked her way to see green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Mostly you cursing at your ex."

Cracking a smile, I nodded. "Okay, maybe that's fine then..."

Her laughter surrounded us again and she let go of my hand before pulling her legs up on the couch to get comfortable and face me. She watched me with an endearing smile, making me unusually nervous.

"So, what other things can you do with your powers?" I asked, partially curious and partially trying to distract from my nerves.

She studied her right hand, red energy wisps at the tip of her fingers. "I can... I can throw energy balls," she remembered, looking to me before smiling, "but I won't demonstrate that since I'm sure you love your curtains."

"That I do," I said in agreement, leaning on the back cushion with my elbow as I faced her better.

"I can also manipulate thoughts, but once again, I'm sure you won't want a demonstration." She chuckled as she saw my change of expression.

"Yeah, no thank you," I said jokingly.

She pressed her lips together, thinking of what else she could do, but her smile faded into a thin line as a dark thought seemed to cross her mind.

"My brother had powers, too," she said quietly. "Super speed."

Since finding out who she was, I tried to piece together Wanda's background without bringing it up to her for fear it would upset her. It made a lot more sense why she'd moved next door now that I knew who she was, but she hadn't once brought up her family again until, well, until now.

"Pietro," I said, hoping I'd got his name correct. "Right?"

She nodded, lowering her hand and looking to me. "Yeah, that's him... he also had powers. It was actually what got him killed." She barely flinched as she spoke. "He saved someone's life in the battle against Ultron."

I sensed her sadness when her gaze softened as she finished speaking, and my heart ached now that I knew the truth.

"You don't have to tell me, Wanda," I said gently, hoping she didn't feel obligated to.

"No, no...," she shook her head, "it's nice to finally be able to tell you the truth. The whole truth. Not some rendition of it."

I nodded, relaxing under her stare. I was glad, too, to know she trusted me with such sensitive information about her life. It made me feel important, kind of like confirmation that I meant as much to her as she did to me.

"Do you think you're gonna go back to the Avengers tower anytime soon?" I asked. "I know you mentioned living here was temporary, so..."

It was selfish of me to think, but I hoped the answer was no. She hadn't said, but I gathered she hadn't been fulfilling her role as an Avenger as much as she should have been, as she was still on a break from there since grieving for her brother. But she seemed better than she did when she first got here, and if that meant she was going to go back there... I hoped it didn't, selfishly enough. I know the world needed another hero, but, I mean, did they?

"Trying to get rid of me already?" she teased, quirking a brow, making me smile with embarrassment. She noticed and added, "I'm kidding, Y/N. But to answer your question, no, not yet. Maybe not ever. I thought I would be here to get away from them whilst I grieved, but I've come to like it here. It's become my new home. I can still help them and not stay there."

I tried to resist the urge to smile like a weirdo. "Oh, cool. Yeah, I get you."

Calm on the outside, but over the moon on the inside.

"Though I may have to reconsider if my neighbour keeps using me like a carnival attraction," she added playfully.

I laughed, putting my hair behind my ear as I shrugged. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. It's just so cool that you have powers!" She laughed quietly, making my smile widen. I continued without thinking, "Plus, your eyes go this pretty red colour whenever you use them and I just think that's pretty neat."

She rolled her eyes playfully, but I was surprised to see her cheeks turn the colour of said powers. God, she was stunning. I was sure I'd always known that, but maybe I'd never acknowledged the thought. Now though... she was adorable when she bit back a smile and her hazel eyes sparkled with distraction.

Suddenly remembering the beautiful girl before me had the ability to read minds, I cleared my throat and tried to debate whether or not that would be classed as a 'loud' thought. I'd liked to think it wasn't, but now I wasn't so sure... what if this was a loud thought? And she could actually hear everything I was saying about her in my head? Oh, no... I was definitely overthinking this. It was nothing to worry about.

"You okay over there? I can practically read your mind."

I looked up and saw she was teasing again, though now that I knew she had powers, those words carried a double meaning.

"Yeah, yeah, sure you can," I played along dismissively. "Nice try, Wanda."

She shrugged, laughter slipping from her lips. "Okay, whatever you say."

Nah, she was definitely playing me... right?

[awkwardgtace]

Foxes Are The Best Pets

Hey wrote a bit about Vitus getting some of his kids that are my ocs, starts with his son Rhys here.

TW: For dehumanization and mentions of abuse.

I have no chill lately, I'm waiting on burn out lol

Foxes Are The Best Pets

He promised to do one interview with these people and it was turning out to be too much. Every other word made him sick. It had been five minutes and now he’s being dragged to come see their new pet. He hopes it’s an actual pet this time. If he has to pretend he’s happy to see another person caged because of animal traits he might lose his mind.

“Mr. Vitus, sir,” the interviewer said. She said her name at some point, but when the next statement was about how using pets in his novel was genius, he forgot it. “You’ll adore my little fox. It’s the cutest yet. You’ve heard the fad right? That foxes make the best pets, easy to train and smart too.”

Vitus grunted, he was glad people found him intimidating at times like this. The interviewer lost the attempt to enthrall him with her pet fox. She kept them going, apparently the fox was part of a segment and kept in the studio. He’d rather go back to the room they gave him and wait until he got to pretend he thought it was funny to hear people talk badly about weres. She finally stopped in front of a room that looked more like a closet.

“Here we are, I hope it's been behaving. We almost had to chain the poor thing. It kept biting and trying to run away,” she explained. The door opened and Vitus was ready to scream.

Inside was the farthest thing he could imagine from a pet fox that needs to be disciplined. A small creature that wasn’t even the size of his pinky stood and stared at them. Their eyes were pink, but there was no life in them. Their salmon hair was dull and unkempt. It seemed like the fur on their ears and tail should have been vibrant, but it had faded as well. He could see the hints of bruising on the skin they were forced to show. The small fox looked up at him and flinched. He must be glaring worse than before, he couldn’t help it.

“Will you behave yourself now?” she asked. The little fox looked at her, their demeanor changed instantly. They were less human, their stance more animalistic. They let out a small bark. “Aww so you decided to listen, Biscuit, I’m so proud.”

He watched barely keeping his temper in check as she reached in grabbing the small were. They were already shaking as her hand came near. He bit his lip staring at the way their ears folded over. He lost himself grabbing her arm to stop her. She looked back up at him, concern clear in her eyes. They didn’t want to anger the new up and coming author. He had to play these damned games every time.

“I’d like to return to my dressing room before we rehearse,” he said. He couldn’t try to lower his volume or appear concerned. He saw the look in her eyes, she wasn’t happy to be dragged away. Good.

“Of course, of course. You don’t want to see any of the tricks our cute Biscuit can do first?” He grit his teeth, of course she wanted to show off the ‘training’.

“It would be better to have a fresh experience for rehearsal wouldn’t it?”

“Oh I suppose. Ok Biscuit be good!”

He had to shove his hands in his pockets as she slammed the door. She didn’t even consider his smaller ears and sensitive hearing. She gave him a fake smile and started to ramble as she brought him back the way they came. He took a more careful look around, where were they planning to keep the fox after this? There weren’t any places set up for them to get around safely. He had a feeling of dread filling his stomach as he got an idea.

“Thanks for watching. And thank you Vitus so much for joining us today. Don’t forget to keep an eye out for our up and coming best seller!” she said as they finished rehearsing. It felt like years answering mundane questions as they avoided bringing up the species of his protagonists. Then they brought out the little fox. That degrading name playing on their lips as they had the fox do tricks. More than one time he saw the little one wince and he had to fight back the need to step in.

“Cut! We’re good!” the director called.

“Thanks again Mr. Vitus, so I didn’t get to ask this, but the giants aren’t really the bad guys right?” She gave him the same conspiratorial look every other interviewer had. In the end the evil giants will be good and the weres were misguided the whole time. He chuckled, flashing a fake smile.

“You’ll just have to wait like everyone else,” he recited. It was a sickening feeling leading people on to think he’d do that. His editors knew the plans and they loved it. They said it would start conversations that needed to happen. He sighed as the interviewer pouted and left. A rehearsal today and the real thing tomorrow.

He started to get up when he saw the little fox had been left behind. No one seemed to care or worry about them. They looked up at him and didn’t even care this time. He furrowed his brows, how could he do this? He needs to get them out of here, but anything right now is too obvious. He wanted to crouch down, get a little closer, but that would draw attention. There had to be a way to at least find out the kid’s real name. The closer he looked the worse it all felt. This wasn’t just a fox were, it was a kid. At best thirteen and being treated like this. The kid flinched and he knew he’d scared them again.

“Biscuit!” the shrill voice of the interviewer called. “Oh thank you so much Mr. Vitus I can’t believe I forgot him. You bad boy not even barking to remind mama.”

He raised an eyebrow, that’s true the fox didn’t speak. An awful idea popped in his head that made the interviewer flinch away too. She wasn’t letting a literal child speak. He stood and walked away, he couldn’t face this he had to think of some way to get the kid out of here. He entered his dressing room again. There wasn’t much here, just a lot of unnecessary electronics. He smirked as an idea finally popped in his head. He just needed a little help from his manager, and she’d be happy to do it. He called her and started getting the plan together.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Rhys hated this. It was the fifth time this month someone sent him to another person claiming they loved weres and wanted to give him a good home. Now he’s a pet that barks named Biscuit. He tried to keep the dead look on when she was around. He knew even if someone recognized him they wouldn’t care. He wasn’t worth their time. Plus foxes were great pets.

He grimaced again quickly, going neutral as his ‘owner’ looked at him. She kept grabbing him tightly and causing more bruising. She tsked each time she saw a new one form blaming him. He would be making plans to run away if she hadn’t already made it clear he’d be getting tossed soon. She didn’t like damaged products and he was only good for a segment. He bit his lip as she grabbed him and shoved him in a pocket. She could at least pretend she cared.

“Don’t worry Biscuit, today is the last day you’ll come to work with me and then we get you out of my house. You’re such an awful mongrel why would anyone want a pet like you. Sad that foxes are all the rage right now,” she mused.

He wanted to scoff and call her names. He knew how all the rage they were, it was why he kept getting grabbed and sent to new places. He actually thought the family he’d been with at the start would come after him. He’d been a fool, he was a kid who wasn’t wanted by his own parents. No one would be coming to find him if he disappeared from their lives. He curled up as best he could in the pocket. She didn’t pick one with a lot of room for him…ever.

He jolted awake as a hand grabbed him again. He was placed on the table where they made him do tricks yesterday. There were giants all around, but the worst one wasn’t here yet. His grimace was bad, but those emerald eyes were the worst. Not to mention he towered over giants. The table beneath him started to shake and he had to bite back a yelp. The worst one was coming, his eyes locked on Rhys immediately. The white haired giant was always staring at him, he wanted to make it stop.

“Morning,” the biggest one spoke. Each time it made Rhys feel like there was a storm next to him. He had to try desperately to keep from his ears folding back. His ‘owner’ would punish him. “So we’ll be having the real thing today? More tricks from Biscuit?”

“Oh yes, little Biscuit will do wonders. Much better than yesterday, no tripping or stumbling,” she threatened. He knew the giants would think she was being sweet, but he knew the truth. A trip or a stumble would mean no dinner tonight. Not like he had any food yet today. Suddenly everything went dark. “Shit!”

He could see better in the dark than the giants. All of them were running around, a sudden power failure. Of course they had to fix it quickly. This could be his chance to run. He took a quick look around when he froze. The white haired one hadn’t left, he stayed where he was and kept staring at Rhys. Fuck it, he was running. He made a move, but the white haired giant did too. In less than a second he was wrapped in gigantic fingers and being picked up. He thought about panicking, but he wouldn’t be stuck as Biscuit anymore.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” the giant muttered. Was he apologizing to Rhys? Weird.

Rhys was dropped in a pocket like this morning. Except there was food in it? Also some pain killers? Was this giant just a hoarder? Is he going to be put on display? He shivered, at least that meant he’d be kept looking nice. He started to sob quietly, another person grabbing him even if the current place was shit. He hoped he could sleep through the deep voice that would rumble around him. At least it smelled nice here, like spring.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Vitus tried to stay still and look calm as the lights came back on. He watched his manager apologizing for her mistake. She shot him a look and he gave a brief nod. The kid was getting out of here, he just had to wait. Everyone would come back and as far as they were concerned he’d never even shown much interest in ‘Biscuit’. He grimaced, the first thing he would do is find out the kid’s name. He’d get him home after that, to where they took him from.

“Oh such a relief that it was just a mishap,” the interviewer laughed. “Your manager is a bit of a mess isn’t she?”

“Now and then,” he answered. He smiled slightly, the woman grinned. She was sure she won him over now. He watched her smile and sit without even checking the ground for the fox boy. A look of realization and poorly masked anger.

“Biscuit’s gone! He must have run during the power outage, my poor baby got scared. You didn’t happen to see where he went, did you Mr. Vitus?”

“I thought you took him. When the lights came on he was gone.”

He smirked as the rage on her face came forward. Wincing when hard stomps hit the ground. He watched her eyes darting around the set as though she’d see the salmon colored tail poking out of a hiding spot. The kid was about to run before he grabbed him, she wouldn’t have found him either way. She sighed before standing and starting to move set pieces around. He bit his tongue, he couldn’t say anything about how little she seemed to care. Not right now, they might think he has the little fox. That would backfire on everything.

“That little…” she grumbled. He stood and tapped her shoulder. She faced him with a fake worry again.

“It may be better to just leave him, if the power outage scared him after all,” he tried to sound neutral. He doesn’t care about the fox child and just wants to get his interview done. “I assume a host like you has a backup in case he wasn’t ready to perform.”

“O-oh of course. I should get that set up.”

She ran off quickly. He wanted to check on the child in his pocket, promise that he’s safe. He couldn’t though, any attention drawn to him like that could get him back in their hands. He smiled as she came back with a weird appliance. That was better than a kid covered in bruises performing little tricks. He’d do this, report her for how she was treating a were. Even if people knew some got treated as pets, she was making sure on camera never to say the word. She’d at least get punished a little, nowhere near enough.

He had been zoned out for most of the segment about him. He opted to leave quickly claiming he wanted to let them search for Biscuit without worry. He rushed to his car, planning to stop at a store on the way home. He didn’t have anything a were might need, he’d need to buy a lot. He waited until he’d driven for a while before finally checking his pocket. The little fox fell asleep, it was probably better than being awake for all of that. He let go of the pocket opening, giving it a small pat before heading out. He heard a small sound and froze. Had the kid woken up?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rhys stretched a bit, enjoying the smell of spring as he woke up. He had a nice dream, laying in the sun surrounded by flowers. Slowly he remembered what he was supposed to be doing today, he never got to sleep so peacefully since she got him. He stretched more, feeling the fabric around him. There was more room than usual, that didn’t make sense. Did someone new… someone had grabbed him. That weird angry looking giant, crap he needs to find a way to run.

“Are you awake?” the giant asked. Rhys nearly screamed, the voice was deep and loud. He felt the sound rumble through his whole being. This one was huge, he’d be the worst he was sure. He couldn’t help the whimper that slipped out as he curled in on himself again. “Oh no.”

The little light Rhys had was snuffed out. Huge fingers came in and he had nowhere to run. He tried to stay still, it was always better when he didn’t try to run. The fingers wrapped around him, they weren’t tight yet. He was being good so they would stay loose. He didn’t want to learn how this one would punish him. The fingers were huge, he knew he was smaller than others his age, but still. He wasn’t even nearly half the size of one. His world shifted and the fabric surrounding him was gone.

Slowly the hand flipped and he was let go on a palm that felt way too big. He didn’t want to look at this giant, but he wasn’t getting a choice. The hand he was on was brought up in front of those emerald eyes. There hadn’t been a giant willing to bring him this close before, it was terrifying. What the hell was this one thinking? He couldn’t read anything from that glare. He just kept staring, it was worse than when he was on the table.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Rhys felt his eyes go wide, why was this giant sorry? “I’m sure I scared you, but I couldn’t leave you there. You aren’t a pet and I couldn’t ignore the bruises you had. Let alone the fact she was making you bark…”

“Bark…” Rhys said. He couldn’t help it. This giant sounded so sincere, he wanted to annoy him. He’d find out Rhys was a problem and send him away. Those piercing green eyes just looked kind of sad. He wasn’t falling for it.

“Ok, no talking yet.” The giant sighed and Rhys hated it. He didn’t want fake concern. “I’m going to stop at a store, get some stuff you can use while you stay with me. We’ll get you back home once you’re ready to talk.”

Rhys didn’t even consider arguing. He waited for the inevitable return to the pocket, but after a few more seconds of staring the giant moved his hand to his chest. He curled his fingers over Rhys to keep him safe and went back to staring at the road straight ahead. It didn’t make sense, giants always shoved him in pockets. That was his normal. The fingers stayed still around him, each twitch of the massive digits only when the giant had to slow down. It almost seemed possible he cared. That would change.

It didn’t seem long before the giant stopped again and was bringing Rhys up to his eyes. He stared again as if trying to read his mind. Rhys just kept up the dead look, it was easier. If this was from pity he wanted the pity to last as long as possible. The giant eyes kept scanning over him. He wanted to poke one of them, but that didn’t seem smart. He was hungry, maybe he should have eaten the food in the pocket. Would have been better than dealing with this on an empty stomach.

“Ok, we’re going to head into a store that should have stuff for weres. Just let me know if you see something you want. I guess pat my hand if you don’t want to talk…” the giant said. He just kept looking at him. He was sure he’d hate this giant more than the others. He just had to be annoying, abandoned in a store could be good. Easier to find worthwhile people…maybe…

The giant holding him started to move and he grabbed one of the fingers near him. It was worse on an open palm, at least the other times he didn’t have to worry about falling. Those awful eyes stared down at him again, he hated it. The giant kept moving, but it was slower now, almost like he cared. The first step was probably the worst. Heavy and loud even from the hand of the one walking. He was sure his ears and tail were alert. The giant would probably get annoyed soon, simple movements making Rhys nervous.

The second the doors opened to the store Rhys was shocked. The giant held his hand with Rhys a little closer while grabbing a basket. He didn’t pay much attention to what the giant was grabbing, just stuff he assumed he wanted for his pet or trophy. The giant said he could get what he wanted…maybe he should test that. He saw something that looked fancy, a special bath for fur like his. He started patting the hand he was on, he wasn’t getting tricked into talking.

“You saw something you wanted?” the giant asked. He sounded hopeful. Rhys hid a smirk, we’ll see if he keeps that hope. Rhys pointed at the bath and the giant followed the direction he designated. He went over to the display and held Rhys up to it, almost like he was checking the size. “This is it?” Rhys nodded. “All right, I think you could use a way to pamper your fur.”

Rhys nearly choked when the giant put a box in his basket. That thing had to be expensive and he was getting it. Rhys let a grin spread on his face. The rest of the time Rhys would look for the most expensive thing he could see and point at it after patting the hand. Each time the giant listened, went over, and held Rhys up. He only turned down something that was designed to clean feathers not fur. Once the giant was checking out Rhys was sure he just found someone who wanted to show off a cute pet. He’d stay for a while and bail later.

The walk back to the giant’s car was calm. He couldn’t remember the last time he got to be out in the open like this. There were always hands about to grab him. He didn’t trust this giant at all, but he would enjoy the bits of freedom he got. The giant put the purchases in his car then got in himself. The giant looked down at Rhys again, he didn’t like the way he kept getting looked at. He was brought in front of those eyes, he hoped the giant would do something soon.

“It would be safer if I put you in my pocket, are you ok with that?” the giant asked. Rhys was sure this giant was crazy. He didn’t want to get hurt from a giant car though. He nodded and the giant gave him a sad smile. "Ok, uh, it won’t be long we’ll be home soon. I don’t know if you did, but the stuff in this pocket is for you. I tried to make sure you wouldn’t have to be starving while we acted like you were lost or ran off.”

Rhys nodded again and the giant moved to place him in the pocket. He expected to be dropped in, but instead the hand was placed in the shirt pocket as much as possible. He slid off slowly and landed at the bottom with almost no falling time. He couldn’t believe the giant was so careful. There was pressure from outside the pocket, was the giant trying to comfort him? This one was weird, but he’d get to play with some fun toys before he got traded away this time.

He curled up in a ball, he probably felt like nothing to this guy. He almost wondered if he preferred that or not. He wondered if the giant might forget he’s there. He could wind up crushed pretty easily. At least he would leave a pretty nasty stain, a good way to show giants he fucking matters. He was getting bitter at the scent he was surrounded by. The images of flowers and fields going through his mind and the calm thumping near him. He hated that it made him sleepy too, this giant would probably be the worst yet once he was home.

—---------------------------------------------------------------

Vitus was anxious by the time he pulled up to his house. The little fox just said bark, he didn’t get any information. It seemed like he was trying to make something happen in the store with the amount he picked out. It didn’t matter, he just wanted the kid to feel safe. Once he started talking he could look into getting him back to his real family. Although a part of him wondered how hard they even searched for him.

The boy had been quiet since the car ride started. He took a quick peek in his pocket once he had the bags in his hand. He was sleeping, he hoped that was a good thing. He tried to be quiet as he went inside, planning to start setting up everything. Maybe get something better for the kid to eat too. He was a fox and foxes ate meat right? He’d order something once enough of everything was put together.

He sat on his couch pulling out the little bed set that he’d grabbed. The boy hadn’t picked out one for himself. He let out another sigh as he opened the box, everything was so small. He hoped he hadn’t gotten one that didn’t give him enough room. He pulled out each piece and worked carefully putting it together. He had a few mishaps as he did, but after a few minutes the bed frame was together. He pulled out the mattress and sheets, carefully wrapping the small object with them.

He set it down and sighed, it didn’t feel big enough. He pulled out the small pillows placing them down, each piece just seemed to cement how small the were was. The last thing to place was the blanket, he put that down on the table. He wanted to put the boy in the bed first. Carefully he slid his hand into his pocket, the small boy didn’t flinch. He wrapped his fingers around the were and lifted him out. It would be so easy for someone else to forget the small weight, Vitus felt like he couldn’t if he tried. He slowly moved the boy down to the bed, sliding him off his fingers. The little fox shivered before he slid the blanket over him. He grabbed it tightly curling it around him.

He sighed, grabbing the bag and planning to go set up some more of what they bought. It seemed like he’d need to hire someone to do a decent part of it, but that was fine. For now he’d do everything he could, he’d make sure this fox had a good place to stay until he went home. Each thing he pulled out was smaller than he expected. How was this supposed to work well? He couldn’t put most of it together on his own… Maybe the were can help if he talks him through it.

After a fifth poor attempt at installing the bath the fox picked out he gave up. He didn’t have the tools he needed to work with something so small. He lifted himself up off the floor intending to go check on the little fox. He jumped as he turned and found him standing there watching him. He leaned forward, the boy jumped back like he was in trouble. Vitus sighed, leaning back again. The fox looked almost shocked that he didn’t keep moving towards him.

“I’m going to get dinner soon. Is there anything you want?” he asked. The little fox stared at him like he had six heads. An awful possibility came to him, had this kid ever learned to speak. “Can you speak? Had they been stopping you from learning to speak?”

“Steak…” the fox said. The voice was so quiet he almost missed it. He asked for something that had to be good. He could speak and they could work up to learning his name.

“I think I have some here actually, do you want to come with me while I cook?” Vitus offered a flat hand to the little fox. There was a pause while they both just stared at each other. “Would you rather not? That’s fine.”

Vitus was slow as he climbed to his feet. His eyes locked on the fox boy. Nothing seemed to happen so he took a step forward. He felt awful as he saw the boy have to catch himself, he hadn’t walked around weres before. He was more careful now, his next step had to be light. The fox didn’t have an issue this time and he took that to mean he was succeeding in the attempt. He took a bit more caution as he neared the fox, the small form stationary as he walked.

He took a long stride over the young were. Before he could take another the boy ran to his leg starting to climb quickly. He froze, unsure what to do that would keep the fox safe. It was seconds before he felt a small pat on his hand. He flattened his hand in hopes that’s what the kid wanted. He felt the small weight climb on and relief overcame him. He brought the boy up to his eyes, looking him over slowly.

“Please don’t do that again, it’s dangerous to climb me so suddenly,” he said. The fox looked at him with a dead stare again. He sighed watching the salmon hair get blown back, he’d have to figure something out sooner rather than later.

He made his way to the kitchen and searched his fridge. He wasn’t finding anything even close to steak like the kid had asked for. He looked down at him, those pink eyes just watching him. He moved away, letting the door shut and pulling out some takeout menus. There had to be somewhere he could get what the were wanted. He deserved at least whatever he wanted to eat after what happened to him.

—-----------------------------------

Rhys was in shock. The giant didn’t seem to care that he climbed him, followed him, or asked for something insane. This had to turn bad quickly. Now he’s just sitting here in the hand while he reads over different menus. Every now and then he’d be met by those green eyes and a sigh. Then the giant would go back to looking over menus. He saw a small smile on the giant’s face, which didn’t seem good.

“I found a place that has steak, looks like we lucked out after all,” he said.

His voice seemed quieter now, probably just didn’t want to break his new toy. The giant leaned over grabbing a phone off the counter. Rhys just wanted the bad stuff to start, he was a fox and they were great pets when trained well. He tuned out the rumbling noise, using the fingers near him to block his ears. He almost yelped when they responded by curling over him more. This giant seemed to respond to everything he did. Rhys jumped when the phone was put down.

“We have about thirty minutes to wait,” he was told. The giant got up bringing him over to the huge couch. He placed his hand flat and looked at Rhys. “Why don’t you wait here? I’m going to see if I can’t set up anything else until then.”

Rhys stretched and listened, watching him hadn’t been fun. The giant was actually trying to be careful with everything. It made him feel bad seeing him struggling. He just stared as the giant walked away, the steps were lighter again. This giant almost seemed to care, but that wasn’t possible. Even if he opens up and tells the guy his name he’ll get taken again and that’s that. He won’t have a long term home until the fox fad dies. Or he dies, whichever comes first.

He curled up, he’d rather pretend to be sleeping than experience that stare anymore. Those eyes didn’t match the face, always looking angry while the eyes were warm. He hated that smell of spring too that existed lightly over so much of this place. He hated the gentle way the giant held him and how he talked to him like a person. He hated being listened to, and cared about, and he hated wanting to believe it.

Over the next few days things continued to be strange. The giant, Vitus as the guy eventually told him, was doing a lot. Giants and weres came through to put together the things Vitus couldn’t and he made sure Rhys got his fur cleaned. It was the nicest it looked in years. He even used a brush with giant tweezers to help get his fur and hair under control. He also took the time to treat the worst of what his last owner did. Even kept close while he was sleeping. Almost every morning he woke up to that same smell of spring giving him a false sense of safety and home.

He knew it wouldn’t last. A lot of them were nice like this at first. Then they got sick of him. Wanted a more ‘normal’ were. He wouldn’t stop acting out though. He only spoke when he thought of something crazy to ask for and kept climbing up the guy. The climbing drove him nuts; the act would break soon enough. He stretched as Vitus wandered around, he seemed worried about something. Maybe he was worried Rhys would catch on and leave. He jumped when Vitus turned and came close crouching so he was at least closer to Rhys’s level.

“Hey kiddo, there’s someone coming by today. I don’t want to deal with this person..at all,” Vitus said. “It’s best if you stay out of sight while they’re here. I don’t trust them.”

Rhys wanted to scoff, but held back staring up at Vitus. The giant sighed and stood back to his full height. Rhys couldn’t believe he’s allowed to run around on the ground with such a big giant walking around. He had no intention of hiding during this meeting or whatever. Vitus probably just didn’t want his untrained pet showing up. He’ll finally get the guy to break, he’ll climb up his guest while he’s busy. It’ll be perfect.

Rhys stayed mostly out of sight as Vitus kept wandering around. It was only about an hour before there was a loud banging on the front door. He watched the giant scan the area, a relieved look settling on his face. It wouldn’t last long, Rhys would make sure of that. He watched on the side as a new giant walked in, at least two heads shorter than Vitus. Why was that guy so big?

This new giant looked mean, maybe he wouldn’t mess with them. Their features were sharp and the look in their eyes made him shiver. Vitus changed once they came in too, his stance seemed more tense. Who could this be that even someone that big was nervous? The new giant just waltzed in like they owned the place. Rhys definitely wouldn’t be messing with them. He backed away, hoping to be more out of sight than he already was.

“So Vitus, it’s nice to see you,” their voice sounded cold. Rhys pinned his ears down, he didn’t like them at all.

“Myra, please let’s get the discussion over and you can finally leave me alone,” Vitus said. His voice was harsh, but it was still softer than when he’d first heard him speak.

He watched the two walk away, but didn’t follow. This Myra person gave him a bad feeling and he wouldn’t be playing any games. He’d find another way to make Vitus finally break. Rhys decided to just rest on the couch again, a nap sounded good anyway. He would just sleep there until Vitus said the new giant was gone and he could mess with more things. He climbed up the side of the giant furniture, his claws leaving small marks. He could make that add up eventually. He leaned against the arm of the seat closing his eyes, it still smelled like spring here.

“No way this backwards creep has a fox,” he heard. Rhys shot up, terrified as he met the eyes of that new giant. She had an awful smile creeping onto her face. Rhys turned to run, but he was caught by his tail and held up in front of her. He had to hold back his cries, a fox tail wasn’t meant to support his body weight. “He won’t mind if his little fox runs away…”

Rhys froze, he was already getting taken again? He hadn’t even broken this one yet. This Myra person dropped him in their bag and all he could do was stare at the disappearing ceiling. He didn’t have a way out of this, and something told him he wouldn’t be getting away from this giant. The bag swung as they started moving and he heard a door slam. He was off with a new giant again, with no one to come after him.

He curled in on himself as the truth hit him. He wouldn’t be smelling spring all the time anymore. He wouldn’t be able to ask for crazy things and actually get them. He wouldn’t get to hear the footsteps sometimes be heavy only to switch on the next one. He wouldn’t get to see those green eyes that seemed warm instead of fierce like his face. He wouldn’t be held gently and cared about in a way that let him think he was more than just a pet. He just wanted someone to care.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

“Kiddo you can come out now, she’s gone,” he called. The kid had been shockingly good the whole time. He didn’t appear out of nowhere or climb up his leg. It actually made him nervous, he was looking all over for him. “Kiddo at least give me a hint…”

He didn’t like this, he had looked pretty much everywhere the second Myra was leaving. He went to check the couch where the kid liked to sleep. Nothing there either. He was getting worried, the kid hadn’t hidden like this before. Myra left pretty quickly too. He waited a bit longer to see if the kid would appear before running out of his house. He must have been somewhere she saw him, maybe the couch like he just checked. He’d get the kid back.

He ran out and saw her mostly down the street. He started running as fast as he could. If she got home or in a car he’d never get the kid back. That’s not true, he’d never get the kid back easily. He caught her and spun her around. He didn’t even process what she said, her hands were open and she didn’t have pockets. He glared at her bag before glaring back at her. She dropped a kid in a fucking bag.

“Give the kid back before I really lose my temper,” he seethed. Myra opened her mouth before deciding against it. She ripped herself free before opening her bag. He watched as she pulled the kid out by his tail. He wasted no time in wrapping his fingers around him, his tail shouldn’t be used like that. “What the fuck is wrong with you, holding him like that?”

“Vitus it’s a were who cares. Foxes are all the rage right now and once they’re not I would have gotten rid of it,” she explained. He pulled the small boy close, sticking her with a fierce gaze. “You’ve always been like this, it’s why we had to take so long dealing with our parents’ belongings. Fighting about who gets their weres for all these years, just so you could send them off on their own. It makes sense they considered disowning you.”

“I’ve told you before, I have no interest in letting people get treated like pets. Come near my home or touch this kid again and you’ll regret it.”

He didn’t give her time to answer, turning and stalking away. He held the kid as tight as he could without hurting him. He can’t imagine how much being held like that must have hurt. He tried to be careful as he walked inside, the door slamming more than he meant it too. He went to his coffee table, sitting on the ground and holding his hand flat there. Slowly he uncurled his fingers, pink eyes stared at him with life for the first time since they met. The kid started shaking, but stood and tried to seem confident.

“G-guess I finally b-broke you huh?” the kid said. Vitus didn’t understand, broke him? “G-going to punish me for not hiding? F-for being out in the open a-and getting taken?”

“What-?” he started. The boy shook more when he spoke. Deep breath, quieter. “Why would I punish you? She was the one who was wrong. How are you feeling from how she held you? I can’t imagine being picked up by your tail was a nice experience.”

“Do-don’t pretend you care.” He could see how hard the boy was trying to seem angry. The shaking betrayed the fear he must feel. Vitus put his head on his arm, looking at the boy on as even a level he could.

“I do care. I took you in the first place because of how you were treated. Kiddo, I want to get you back to your family.” The way the boy just stopped felt wrong. It was like that shattered everything he expected to happen next.

“Hate to tell you, my first family gave me away. Second one didn’t care when I was taken. The cycle usually repeats. I’m a bit of a hassle if you haven’t noticed. I’m not wanted, apparently not even by the guy with a permanent frown that just stares at people.”

Vitus couldn’t believe what he heard. He was given away and kidnapped and no one cared. He pulled the hand close, ignoring the way the boy seemed more scared as he was brought closer. He sat up straight and brought the boy to his chest. Pressing his hand gently against himself and the boy to give him the best hug he could. He waited for a bit, just holding the kid instead of talking. Soon he heard small whimpers and knew it was time. He cupped his hand so he could see the boy and used his other hand to rub his back with a finger.

“Then I guess now you have a guy with a permanent frown who stares at people and cares about you. You can stay here, I never planned for weres to live here, but there’s plenty of things set up here for you now. I won’t let anyone take you or hurt you again. You’re safe now.”

“Yeah I’m your pet now right, or am I a trophy? The cute fox were here to show off…”

“Hmm I think it’s more like I just adopted a son, but we can work out the details later. You’re not anything less than a person here kiddo.”

“You don’t even know my name…” Vitus let out a small hum, he’d learn it when the kid was ready. “It’s Rhys…”

“Well Rhys, I’d guess you’re in a decent bit of pain from that idiot and worn out from this, maybe you should head to bed.”

He tried to sound warm. He would take care of him no matter what. He’ll change as best he can for Rhys so he feels safe here, too. He felt his small body stiffen, of course he’s still afraid. Vitus had to think of a better solution, maybe if he stayed in the room he gave Rhys, or at the door. He could have him on his nightstand, but that can’t be comfortable. He looked down and saw those small pink eyes staring at him like he could destroy him with a word.

“...can I sleep in your hands?” he asked. Vitus smiled, that was probably the easiest thing the kid asked for. He got up and laid on the couch, carefully placing Rhys over his heart and laying a hand over him. He felt the boy snuggle against him. “....you’re warm…and you smell like spring…”

“I hope those are good things,” he chuckled. He got a small yip from the little fox before there was silence. If he held his breath he could hear small snores near his hand. Seems like this could work out after all.

It was only a few weeks before it felt like he’d always had Rhys. He was still a troublemaker and climbed him with no warning, but it was calmer. He could grab him when he did that and was met with laughter, often followed with a crazy request. Today’s happened to be running around in the backyard. He watched as his son jumped down the stairs, prickles of fear that he might get hurt. The laughter helped that subside.

“Be careful Rhys,” he said. He’d gotten a lot better about his volume already, it helped that Rhys played up like his eardrums were destroyed if he was even a bit loud.

“Do I need to be careful with dear old dad watching me like a hawk?” Rhys laughed.

Vitus sighed, he was not old enough for a kid like Rhys. He saw a shadow of wings and stood quickly just in case. A raven were landed on a branch nearby, just out of his reach. He stared at them for a while before they seemed to be ready to approach. They flew down and stopped just before his face. Long ebony hair and red eyes immediately captivated him.

“I’m watching you giant, if you hurt that boy I’ll make sure you pay before I take him away,” they said. He jumped, but smiled a bit.

“You may want to ask him before doing that, I’m Vitus by the way,” he said. He wouldn’t mind if this were decided to stay around. They flew up again landing on his head, he stiffened unsure how to act.

“I’m Dabria, and I swear you’ll pay. I may be small but did you know raven mothers are fierce when it comes to protecting their young.” He laughed, this little were was something else.

“I guess we’re co-parents then, feel free to come inside once we head in. We have plenty of room.”

[disgustingtoast]

my shitty, shitty minho fic that took ages [tmr minho]

I'm sick of rereading this so here is 3.5k words of shitty, self indulgent writing. The confession could have 100% been more heartfelt but I'm sick of looking this in my google docs. There is most definitely a ton of mistakes but idc <3

this isn't really enemies to lover but the whole dynamic minho and the reader have kinda wrote itself lmao

HERE YOU MFS- @agathallalongs @blanknamed

You were fine with the way you woke up. Hell, you preferred it over some snot-nosed kid coming in and waking you up. And as it turns out, having the same schedule for a little under a year makes for a great internal clock, the habit of getting up in time for your daily run already having been instilled in you for months. So when you’re pulled from the peaceful lulls of sleep because of the feeling of being flipped upside down and landing face-first into the dirt floor of the Glade, you were rightfully peeved.

“Rise and shine shank.”

Minho. Of course it was Minho.

“I’m gonna throw you off the Cliff the minute we’re far enough into the Maze.” Sitting up, you try to rub off the dirt that got on your face when you face planted, scowling at the stains that litter the front of your shirt. “This was a new shirt too.”

“Were you thinking of going running with me or do you plan on sitting in the dirt all day?” Despite him being out of sight you can practically see the smug look he’s wearing. “Hey, maybe you can convince Winston to let you get in the pig pen so you can take a nice mud bath.”

Groaning, you finally stand up and turn around to face him. He’s standing with his arms crossed, holding a paper bag which you presumed had your lunch in it on the other side of your hammock, your very, very twisted hammock.

“Why the hell did you wake me up? I get up fine on my own.”

He shrugs in response, “I just felt like it.”

“You just felt like waking me up or you just felt like getting the world record for ‘biggest pain in the ass’?”

“A bit of both, and seeing your face when you spat out that dirt made you so much more attractive.”

Heat crawls up your neck in embarrassment, “Slim it.” Furrowing your eyebrows in frustration, you gesture in front of you to the tangled mess that hangs between you, “Also you’re gonna fix that.”

“No. It’s your bed.”

“You’re the one who flipped me over! Fix it.”

He stares at you for a second before turning on his heel and jogging off. While he turns to leave you barely catch the way his lips quirk into a smirk. As you watch his retreating figure you can feel your fingers twitch, the urge to strangle him suddenly overwhelming.

“Hey! Get back here shuck-face!” As quickly as you can, you slip your shoes on, not bothering to tie them and pull the leather harness over your head. After one last disapproving glance at your pathetic hammock you’re off, racing after Minho in an effort not to let him get too far ahead. If he beat you to the Doors you’d never hear the end of it.

By the time you catch up with him you’re out of breath. Everytime you would get closer than a few feet behind him he’d run a little faster keeping you at a good few paces behind him, succeeding at prolonging your ever-growing exasperation.

Eventually though he lets you catch up until you’re running side by side, a few meters away from the Walls. “This prison wouldn’t be half as bad if the Creators had put anyone else in here other than you. Preferably someone cuter, without such a punchable face.” You don’t have to look at him to imagine the offended look on his face, one of his most punchable expressions actually.

“I am by far the most attractive guy here. The rest of these shanks look like klunk in cargo shorts.”

“Yeah no. You don’t even break the top 21 on my list.” Once you reach the wall, you lean against it, waiting for the doors to open. When you look at Minho he quirks an eyebrow.

“You have a list?” He pauses for a moment, “Wait there’s only 22 gladers. You included yourself on your own list?”

“Good job! I wasn’t sure if you knew how to count.”

“Slim it. So who’re the top 3?”

You pause for a moment pretending to mull it over. “Well, Gally’s got that whole tall and brooding thing going. And Nick, well I like a man who can take charge-”

“Yeah, yeah okay I get it.” He waves his hand in the air rather indignantly, dismissing what you said. After a minute of silence. the grating sound of rock being dragged against rock echoes through the Glade as the Doors finally start to open. As he tightens the straps of his harness, Minho glances down at the ground and pauses for a moment before he snickers, “You better tie your shoes if you don’t want to trip and ruin your pretty face. Might knock you down a few pegs on that list of yours.”

~

It had been hours since you’d left the Glade, running the familiar course of the Maze. The only entertainment being watching the way the back of Minho’s neck turns a lovely shade of red every time you make a particularly irritating comment.

“Hey it’s getting late. We should go back to the Glade.”

Minho shakes his head in disbelief. “It’s not that late. We still have plenty of time to get back.”

“But I finally convinced Fry to make bacon and there's no way that they’ll be any left unless we get there early.” You draw out the last syllable in a whine, knowing exactly how to get under his skin.

He pivots, still continuing to run just now facing backwards. “Is Frypans bacon really more important than finding a way out of this hell hole?”

“Yes!”

“...Fine-” His sigh of annoyance is cut off abruptly as he trips, falling backwards and landing with a loud huff as the air is knocked out of his lungs.

“Shit, Minho!” You kneel beside him as he lays still, “Are you okay?!” Your voice seems to ricochet off the walls.

It takes a moment before he groans, his eyes still closed. “Why are you so shucking loud?”

“Sorry. Are you okay?” Quieting your tone, you hover over him.

He finally opens his eyes, “M’ fine. I just tripped.” Pushing himself up, he tries to stand but the minute he puts pressure on his ankle he gasps in pain, stumbling into you as you stand to catch him.

“Shit. Okay, you just need to sit down.” You lead him over to the wall, letting him support himself against it before he slides down to sit. When he stretches his legs out in front of him you take to kneeling again, this time next to his feet. Rolling back the bottom of his pant leg you check to see how bad his ankle is and judging by the wincing and the gritting of his teeth you’re betting on not good.

It’s only been a minute but you feel your heart drop at the way it’s already swollen and starting to bruise. You frown as you press your finger against it lightly, snapping your hand back as Minho recoils, growling in pain.

“Don’t touch it!”

“Fine. Good luck finding someone else in here that’ll help you. I’m sure the Grievers would be happy to assist.”

“It just hurts asshole, no need to get snappy.”

“Yeah, yeah just stop your whining you big baby.”

He cringes as you begin to prod his ankle again and sets his head back to rest against the wall.

“Well I’d say it’s just a fracture, it doesn't look too messed up- Minho?” He doesn’t respond. “Hey! Minho!” You reach in front of his face and snap your fingers, “C’mon I need you to wake up!”

He moans as he opens his eyes, well squints his eyes. He can barely keep them open half way, “Why is it so bright in here?”

Furrowing your eyebrows you glance up, it really isn’t that bright, gray clouds float across the majority of the sky and cover most of the sun. Looking back at his face, you can’t stop the nauseating feeling of fear that gnaws in your stomach. “Here, move your head off the wall, I need to check something.”

The dark stain on the wall where he was resting against is enough evidence but some irrational, hopeful part of you checks anyways, reaching around him and pressing your fingers to the back of his head. When you bring your hand back, your fingers are covered in blood.

“Damn it.” You try your hardest to push down the anxiety thundering in your stomach as you grab Minho’s arm and wrap it around your shoulder. Now is not the time to panic. “We need to get you back to the Glade.”

~

You’re not surprised he’s heavy, almost a year of running almost everyday tends to build up a lot of muscle however that doesn't make it any easier for you to carry him. You had to have been stumbling around for hours before you had to fully set him down to catch your breath.

“You really need to lay off Fry’s cooking. I’m telling him that you’re going on a diet the minute we get back.”

You only get silence in response, prompting you to look over and make sure he hadn’t passed out again. His eyes were open but his mind seemed to be elsewhere, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes focusing on something on the wall across from the one you were leaning against. You raise your hand and rest it against his shoulder, “Minho?”

“You need to leave me behind.”

The nauseous feeling returns, “What? No way I’m leaving you here to be Griever food.”

His face twists in frustration as he turns to look at you. “We’ll both be killed if you don’t get the hell out!”

“We still have time! I can carry you the rest of the way just fine.” Grabbing his wrist you pull his arm across your shoulders, tightening your grip when you feel him try to tug his arm back. “We’re going.” You wrap your arm around his waist to support him as you force him to stand.

He tries to pull away, “Why are you being so shucking stubborn! I can barely walk! There’s no way you’ll make it time before the Doors close.”

“Well that’s tough for me I guess.” You begin to walk forward, trying to adjust the way his body weight rested against you.

He begins to say your name but you interrupt him, “No! I’m not leaving you and that’s final.” Cursing the slight waver in your voice you continue to look ahead, choosing to ignore the frustrated look on his face.

It doesn’t take long for exhaustion to set in, Minho seeming to weigh even more every ten minutes. As you drag your feet across the uneven floor, the toe of your shoe catches on a crack, sending you both stumbling forward for what seems like the fiftieth time. The only difference is that this time you aren’t able to catch yourself, fatigue catching up with you and sending both you and Minho careening forward.

Stabbing pain shoots through your legs as you fall to your knees, the sound of Minho groaning in pain causes waves of guilt to wash over you. The sudden realization of just how dire your situation seems to suffocate you.

This was all your fault, if you hadn’t been so annoying Minho never would have tripped. If you were strong enough you would have been able to carry him all the way. Why weren’t you strong enough?

The soft call of your name shakes you out of your stupor, it’s followed by a hand pressed against the side of your face. It’s only when his thumb swipes against your cheek that you realize you’re crying.

“I’m sorry.” You shift slightly until you’re sitting down, knees pulled up to your chest. He follows and sits next you with his legs stretched out, hissing as he accidentally drags his ankle across the ground. “This is my fault.” Staring at the exposed part of his ankle, your stomach swirls at the dark purple bruising.

When he notices you staring he’s quick to pull his pant leg down, “This isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have been running backwards.” He watches you for a second, contemplating, before he speaks again, “You can still leave now and make it.”

“I’m not talking about this again.”

“Why not-”

“I just can’t leave you behind okay! It would kill me knowing that I got us into this mess and I couldn’t get both of us out alive.”

“So you’re just going to kill yourself because you would feel bad if you didn’t?” At his harsh words you whip your head to look at him, surprised to find him angry, his nose flaring and teeth gritting.

“Why are you getting so mad?! And you know it’s more than that! I’m not leaving you here, you can yell all you want but it’s not going to change anything.”

He throws his hands up in the air in indignation, “Why?! Why do you have to be so stubborn!” His tone is harsh and he practically spits his words at you.

A flurry of emotions lodges in your throat and a burning, hot anger ignites in the deepest pits of your stomach. Your lips are moving faster than your brain can process, “Because I love you, you idiot! I can’t just leave you behind because you're the reason I haven’t jumped the shucking Cliff yet!” Your heart is beating impossible fast and for a split second you wonder if it’s going to beat right out of your chest. You watch as Minho’s face morphs into an expression of shock and before you can identify the emotion swirling in his eyes you swear you can hear someone's footsteps.

You scramble to your feet, straining your ears in hopes that you weren’t imagining it. In the distance you hear the rushed strides of someone running in your direction and you swear you feel your heart skip a beat. It was far too late for another runner to be out in the Maze.

“Hey!” Cupping your hands around your mouth you hope they hear you. You hear Minho grunt and the sound of him dragging against the stone wall as he stands.

His voice rings through Maze as he calls out.

After a moment of tense silence you hear the quick foot falls of another runner getting closer before you spot his familiar blond hair turning the corner.

“Ben! Oh my god!”

He comes to a stop in front of you, his expression worried, “What are you guys still doing here? The Doors are closing soon!”

“Minho got hurt and I wasn’t able to carry him all the way back. Why are you out so late?”

“I figured I’d stay out later than usual. Had a bad feeling.” He glances over your shoulder to look at Minho. “We need to get going if we want to make it in time.”

Nodding your head, you turn around and make your way over to where Minho is leaning against the wall. You can feel his eyes on you, pleading for you to look at him but you’re adamant at avoiding eye contact. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Ben glancing back and forth between you, no doubt feeling the tension.

Having someone else there to help made carrying Minho infinitely easier and the three of you stumbled through the doors just as they began to groan, closing behind you.

“What took you so bloody long?” The familiar accent of Newt floats across the Glade but you’re too exhausted to even look in his direction. It isn’t until he’s standing right in front of you that you tear your eyes from Ben and Minho as they make their way to the Med-Jack hut.

“Minho fractured his ankle and got a concussion.” Your hands clench in anger as you speak, “If it hadn’t been for Ben we wouldn’t have made it out.”

“Aren’t you going to go check on him?” Newt frowns at you.

The thought of being in the same room with Minho after you practically dumped your heart out on him made your stomach churn. “No, I think- I think I’m just going to let him rest for now.”

Newt opens his mouth to comment, no doubt going to point out that you never left Minho’s side but you’re quick to interrupt him. “I’m exhausted. I’m going to go shower and get some rest.” You force a smile and begin to walk in the direction of the showers before he’s able to speak.

It seems to take ages to get to the bathrooms. Fatigue makes your limbs feel sluggish and the adrenaline of being in the Maze ebbs away, leaving aching muscles in its wake. You can’t seem to shake the thoughts of Minho as you scrub yourself clean. He probably wanted nothing to do with you and your big fat mouth. If you’d only bitten your tongue for another minute you wouldn’t have this looming air of regret suffocating you.

The regret seems to pull tighter against your throat when you notice your hammock, still twisted from this morning. Tears gather at your waterline, threatening to spill over. The view in front of you is distorted and watery and your fingers fumble with the twisted strings before you give up, whining in frustration.

You pause for a moment before turning in the direction of the Med-Jack hut, your heart desperately yearning to see him. Before you have time to think, you’re wiping your teary eyes with the back of your hand and practically jogging to the little run down shack, ignoring the throbbing pain in your legs.

Hesitating at the door you take a deep breath, steadying yourself before you’re pushing against it. The room is silent, both Clint and Jeff having left and gone to bed. Scanning the room you notice a bed in the corner, Minho sleeping peacefully under it’s covers. His face slack as he rests, his forehead covered by a thin, white bandage that stretches around his head. As you silently pull up a chair to his bedside you study him, it isn’t often you get to see his face when it isn’t creased with stress or in any expression other than a smirk.

Smiling softly. you reach up and pull his blanket up a little higher until it covers his shoulders, the night had a cold edge to it despite it being well into summer. After sitting there for a few minutes your eyelids begin to get heavy, like something was weighing them down. For a moment the idea of walking back to your hammock crosses your mind but you immediately dismiss it, just thinking about getting up is exhausting. You cross your arms on the side of his bed and rest your head against them. It doesn’t take long before the comfort of sleep consumes you.

Garbled words and the feeling of something brushing against your face is what wakes you this time. Opening your eyes, the first thing you notice are Minho’s pretty brown ones staring back at you, the next thing you notice are the hushed snickers from behind you. Shooting up straight you feel the warm rush of embarrassment flood your cheeks.

“It was about time you woke up!” Clint pipes up, “Lover boy here hasn’t stopped staring at you since we came in here to check on him.”

This time, pink begins to tint Minho’s cheeks and creep up his neck, “Slim it! Get outta here would ya?”

“Okay! We’re going!” You turn around just in time to see Clint pushing Jeff out the door and throwing you a wink before shutting the door.

The awkwardness is palpable as you stare down at your lap. The bed creaks as Minho shifts to sit up against the headboard, the sound seeming incredibly loud in the silence. Mustering up your courage you finally speak.

“I’m sor-”

“I love you too!’

Your head shoots up as he interrupts you, eyes wide as you take in his expression that mirrors your own.

“What?”

His body language tells you that he had most definitely not meant to say that, his mouth moving up and down as he tries to figure out what to say.

Your heart catches in your throat as you process his words, “You love me?”

At the slow nod of his head, a beaming smile splits your face, and before you can stop yourself you're pulling him into a crushing hug. Caught off guard, he stiffens for a moment as you wrap your arms around him but as soon as you let out a shaky breath against his neck he winds his arms around you.

“Is this okay?”

At your hushed tone he pulls you tighter against him, “This is more than okay.”

[angelanimedesaray]

Breathe

AN:  I was contemplating on some future multi-chapter fic things and when I realized I couldn’t put this into any of them with my current plans, I ran over here to write this little drabble because I NEED TO WRITE IT!!!

Also, I know this was OH SO LONG AGO COMPARED TO OTHER THINGS, but I was thinking about it because I just watched my favorite reactor (A Goodwin TV) react to Midnight Sun and it’s on my mind, as well as the reason above. (Imma just name drop him real quick cause his AOT and ATLA reactions are GOLD)  Okay, name drop over, back to the drabble/One Shot

FINALLY:  If I’m being honest, I kinda imagine Vampire!Reader from Wings in the Dark doing this, but still, don’t take that as canon, cemented fact here, it’s just READER in this piece...but in my mind that’s kinda what I was thinking, heh

Characters:  Levi, Reader, Erwin (Post-Mortem, Mentioned)

Pairing:  Levi x Reader

Warnings:  ANGST, Post Canon-Character Death, Grief, Loss, Brief Non-descript Nudity, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count--Idk, I wrote this in Tumblr and was too lazy to check in google docs or something just take the drabble from my mind at 1:30 a.m.

*Reader’s POV*

Ever since Levi made the choice, there was a solid wall between the two of you, unseen to the human eye, but felt by both of you as it seemed to tower far beyond the abused walls of Wall Maria that you were surrounded by.  It wasn’t out of any animosity towards you--by now you knew him well enough to know he wasn’t angry at you or anything like that.  Far from it, actually.

But there were still things to do.  Injured to look after--what remained of the Scouts to be injured, anyway--and a sweep of the town to make sure there weren’t any more surprises lurking that might wipe out the very, very few who remained.  For a brief moment, you’d considered following him on that sweep of the area before deciding against it.  You weren’t out of the woods yet, there were still things to do, and you weren’t going to distract him.

Even when Levi and Hange went to put Erwin’s body to rest, you didn’t follow, both of them already making it clear that it wouldn’t be rushed out of respect, but it was not going to be a long affair, either.  The necessities, maybe a more personal touch here and there, and then back to work.

And he might want that time alone, as well.

When Levi came back, you got to your feet, expecting to pull him aside and at least talk to him, but he kept walking, stepping around you and heading straight for Armin and the others to have the much needed talk with them.

You silenced any kind of comment or concerned look that tried to rise to the surface at that.  And you held your tongue as the five of you walked through the broken streets of Shiganshina to finally see what this great sacrifice bought, or rather revealed.  The trip back was silent, everyone either busy with recoveries or with heads swimming with the reveal of humanity beyond the walls, bent on the destruction of everyone within the walls.  But even with thoughts as monuments as that, you were painfully aware that nothing had been said between Levi and yourself still, that Levi was quiet as ever--no, quieter--and that there was a sense of something brewing in the air around you.  You didn’t see any cracks in the façade, but when Wall Rose appeared, and the sea of smiling celebratory faces below, and then around, the blur of the world around you all as you were swept away in a sea of people who wanted to know what happened, what this meant, all these responsibilities suddenly falling on new people, reports needing to be made, debriefings, no rest for the wicked...

Even you couldn’t breathe with the sheer size of it all.  It was insurmountable, a weight that was pressing down with no escape, and that was just what you felt.  You didn’t have the weight that was on Levi’s shoulders, the knowledge and choices and responsibilities still oh so damn fresh with no time to process.  So much to process.  It still hadn’t quite clicked that the 10 people who came back to Wall Rose were the only ones who were going to be coming back.

Somehow, at some point, you and Levi found yourselves walking through familiar halls, past doors that suddenly found themselves without use, the halls empty of any activity or signs of life--at least the ones you were walking.  There was life, elsewhere, but not in this particular wing, not at the moment.  It was just you, Levi, and the bloody silence, the wall that Levi had shored up and somehow managed to keep up without any visible cracks.

Visible.

But that pressure in the air was mounting as he opened the door to your shared quarters, no creak on the door, just the softest whoosh of air as he stepped through, hands undoing the cloak from around his shoulders in the first two steps into the room, the gear being unlocked from the straps by the forth step you saw wobble--

The gear and cloak clattered onto the couch in a temporary position before Levi could finish taking off his gear, and you hardly had time to shut the door behind you before that wall shattered to dust without any warning, the moment it was just you and him and the silence with no chance of anyone disturbing you, as soon as you were hidden from the world.

It clicked, and it all came crashing down, all at once.

The distance evaporated the moment Levi’s knees hit the stone floor, a hitched breath cutting through the air as you hurried to his side, not even bothering to take off your own gear or cloak as all your focus centered on the stalwart man crumbling so visibly in front of you.

His hands were curled into fists against the cold floor, knuckles white and teeth grit as he tried in vain to hold the floodgates closed just a few moments longer, enough to at least get out of his gear and get it properly put away, for a more appropriate time and place than immediately on the floor of the office/sitting room portion of your modest shared quarters.  But all the emotion he’d been bottling and trying to subdue until a more appropriate time could not be held back any longer.  The moment the weight of it all hit him with nothing left to distract him was the moment he couldn’t hold it back any longer.  Silent tears were carving a path across a face that had only gotten a few splashes of water to clean up hours ago.  All the resistance and struggle he could still muster wasn’t enough to stop the sudden onslaught of damned up emotions hitting him at once.

As his shoulders shook and he started to turn his face away, still making an attempt to hold it back a bit longer, your arm slipped across his back, the other carefully touching his shoulder to turn him to face you.  He didn’t have it in him to resist, he was too busy trying to contain himself to divert any energy into resisting your quickly offered embrace even if he wanted to.  So, he turned into you, your hand coming up to gently thread through his hair and cradle his head into you as you maneuvered you both so you were facing one another.  Your other arm was moving gently along his back in soft rubs not necessarily to soothe so much as to help him relax enough to let it out in a way that didn’t seem so physically painful.  Right now the hitched breaths sounded sharp and sudden, the kind that made a persons chest physically ache, his muscles tensed so tightly you were worried bones would snap and sinew would tear.

You didn’t know what to say--what kind of words could possibly be of solace to him at a time like this, the weight of all that death and sacrifice and his monumental choice on the roofs of Shiganshina that had cost him someone more than a dear friend--cost him Erwin--causing him this physical pain.

One thing at a time.  He needed to let it out, not bottle it up.  He needed to release some of this grief, and he needed to not hurt himself even accidentally in the process.

“Just breathe, Levi...just try to breathe...” you murmured to him, trying to make your back rubs make a smooth, soothing pattern that mimicked a breath in and out to get him to slow down and breathe around the tears and the jagged breaths.

You continued your mantra of telling him to breathe as he struggled to follow your suggestion, breathing sporadic and tears dampening your uniform as you held him securely against you, fingers threading gently through hair that had turned greasy with the dirt and sweat.

He was going to want a bath right after this.  But first, he needed this emotional release.  That was the most important thing, even he seemed to realize that.

His fists raised from the cold floor to instead tighten into the fabric of your uniform, clinging to you in a death grip instead of digging into the palms of his hands.  He was still shaking, and his breathing still sounded painful at times, but it was slowing down as he tried to match his breaths to the pattern of your soothing back rubs, trying to slow it down and take deeper breaths.  You simply told him to breathe and rocked slightly in place, chin moving to rest against the top of his head.

You weren’t trying to make the pain go away--you knew you didn’t have that power.  But you were going to offer him what help and comfort you could.

As Levi’s breathing slowed down to something a bit more manageable, you pulled away just enough to look at his face, hands shifting from his back and hair to gently cusp the sides of his face in your hands, thumbs wiping at the tears that had stained his cheeks and your clothes.  He wasn’t looking you in the eyes, still, considering how rarely he let himself be this vulnerable, even around you.  But this was a special exception, an anomaly none of you could have predicted, and you were making more than just simple, small exceptions.

His eyes were bloodshot from the harsh crying, and he looked utterly exhausted, like if you told him to go to sleep right now he actually would, without issue, but definitely with nightmares.

You were both in for some harsh and brutal nightmares going forward.

But again, that was not your focus right now.

Your thumbs gently wiped at the tears that were now trying to hide in the already-made rivers on his face, your touch kind and tender, your eyes full of sorrow of your own--you’d known so many of those that had died, as well.  And you knew that Erwin had been special to Levi in a way you didn��t fully understand.  It wasn’t the same thing you and Levi had, but it was still deep and strong in its own way, and it had just been cut out of him the first time while he was helpless to do anything about it, and the second time with his reluctant consent.

It took a few moments, but he finally looked at you, briefly, which was all you needed--that quick dart of his eyes towards yours, and the fact your gaze was locked on his eyes was enough to trap his gaze to yours long enough to say what you needed to.

“He was ready to go, Levi.”

Almost imperceptibly, Levi’s eyes widened at the fact that was the first thing you were going to say to him, out of everything (besides the brief coaching to calm him down.  The first face to face, conversational thing, first real sentence).

You didn’t know what to say about the grief of so many people dead just so he could get one shot at the Beast Titan, which he then ultimately failed because of a split second of hesitation.  You didn’t know what to say about being the one to make the decision to make that suicide charge, sending all those people to their deaths willingly.  But there was one single thread you felt like you could actually say something about, something that might help ease his burden even the slightest bit.  The pain and loss would still be there, but his load would be just a bit lighter...hopefully.

One grief and--you hated to say it, but--failure, that burned to the forefront of your mind as the greatest personal pains he had to be feeling right now.

Erwin.

You would focus on that.  With Erwin, you had some kind of comfort to give, as strange as it may seem.  But Levi could not take the full brunt of Erwin’s death, not as harshly as he was.  Yes, he’d made the decision, both times, but again...

“He was ready to go,” you said in a carefully tender voice, your thumbs gently tracing along the smooth edges of his cheeks and cheekbones, holding Levi’s gaze and making sure your words were sinking in.  “We both saw it.  You know he was.  You gave him...arguably what he wanted the most.  He was ready to go.”

Levi seemed to remember to breathe again, leaning his head forward into your chest once more--voluntarily, this time--and simply seeking your quiet embrace.  You didn’t make any more comments, simply holding him on your gathered position on the floor, staring off at nothing in particular as you slowly rubbed his back, murmuring little reminders to breathe whenever his breath would start to hitch again.

When your legs started to ache from the kneeling position you’d taken to pull his collapsed form into your arms, Levi pulled away, not even pausing to wipe at any tears or say anything or even look at you.  He simply got to his feet and started undoing the straps that made up the full body harness of the ODM gear, adding them to the pile and starting to strip off his filthy uniform as well.  You clambered to your feet with a bit of effort, pain shooting up your legs and making you pause to wait out the pins and needles sensation burning through your legs from holding that position for so long.

“I’m going to clean up,” Levi said bluntly, his voice still gruff, gravely from the harsh cry he’d just had as he finished stripping of his dirty clothes and started to head for the bedroom door so he could reach the washroom.

“And then get some sleep?” you suggested, turning to face him with a worried look.  Levi simply grunted in response, hand on the bedroom doorframe as you threw out one last thing before the moment slipped away entirely.

“For what it’s worth...” you said quickly, slowing down for the important part.  “I agree with your decision.”

Levi paused, held his position, and then said in a soft voice, “You’d be the first.”

“That’s not true.  Mikasa and Eren--” you started to argue, but Levi simply turned and gave you a look that silenced your argument immediately.

They didn’t count.  They’d been guaranteed to want Armin over Erwin because of their personal ties.  Everyone else, however...you’d both heard it, even from Armin’s own lips in a way.  Everyone else thought it should have been Erwin.  Everyone.  They had expected it to be, as well.

You squared your shoulders slightly, stubbornly standing your ground on the matter.

“I stand by your decision, Levi.”

Levi studied you for a long moment, fingers that had tightened to a white knuckle grip on the wood relaxing again as he gave a slight nod.

“...so do I.”

You felt a bit of relief seep through you to hear him say that to you and mean it, nodding as you started to take off your uniform as well.  “I’ll be in there in a moment.

Levi hummed in acknowledgement and disappeared into the other room after that, leaving you to get undressed and tidy up the bear to be properly taken care of later when you were both in a better shape to do just that.  Tip-toeing into the washroom, you could see Levi had already washed up and was simply soaking for a few moments, eyes closed and head leaning back slightly, one of his legs bending so his knee peaked out of the water as you approached.

He cracked an eye open once you got fairly close, sitting up and adjusting in the water for you to slide inside and join him, wrapping his arms around you in a firm hug and gently nuzzling against your neck, giving your jaw a soft kiss before he started helping you clean up, his movements gentle and slow, usually followed by a chaste, thoughtful kiss against your skin as the two of you washed you of all the dust, dirt, grime, and blood from the devastating mission.  Once you were clean, you shifted in Levi’s embrace, curling into his chest as his arms linked around you again, holding you tightly to him and burying his face in your hair, breathing you in deeply and simply...holding you.  Just holding you in silence, both of your minds heavy with the weight of far too many things, but finding a moment of solace in the unspoken fact that by some miracle you’d both made it out alive and were here to comfort each other in the aftermath, to help each other slow down and simple...breathe again.  Even if it was just for a moment before the world continued forward in it’s harsh series of events.  Even if it was just to hold each other until the water got cold and you had to migrate to the bed for sleep that would undoubtedly include nightmares of the very thing you each needed comfort for.

It was still a much needed moment where you simply clung to one another as that reminder to take a moment to breathe again.

Everything Tags:  @antisteller

Levi Tags:  @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea @hauntedhousecat @peaches-and-clouds @queenofcurse @wubbawubwub04 @lollobos @pasteldays @itsmeaudrieee @macaronnv @tokyo-banana @apuci-kis-szornye @morgana-olson​ @yellowminb​ @ashikothedog​ 

[anxiousgaypanicking]

okay so i recently watched the metal family (the english dub) on youtube and i sent my friend a ton of information on it - my thoughts, my theories, etc, and then i thought of a sanders sides related universe for it 

technically some things differ, as in the part i wrote glam and chive (who ive assigned to logan and remus) eventually end up together, but whatever 

and, because im a whore for attention im going to post here exactly what i rambled about because i was spilling out thoughts that just made my heart beat faster. so basically, the metal family: sanders sides edition 

spoilers for the metal family. 

basically i was thinking of logan and remus basically as these two characters, with logan as glam/sebastian and remus as chive, and logans parents putting a lot of pressure on him as their only child, and his dad is suffering abuse to so he cant even stick up for logan, and when he does bad he has to put out his arm and roll his sleeve up and his moms hits it repeatedly, and in the show glam doesnt react until he showers bc thats when it stings (until a certain scene where glams dad slaps it so hard he fucking bleeds a lot and starts sobbing and its like part of when he snapped) but thats probably what he does, and obviously the butler also gets mad and snaps on him a lot too, but when he goes to that music exam and gets second place to remus (who he met briefly on the way to the music exam - youll understand this more if you end up watching the series), hes shocked, and as remus walks him home he explains what he did on the guitar, and gives him the bach vinyl and logan squints but takes it anyway, and when he announces he got second he gets scolded, they mock him for who he lost too, and the back vinyl is taken by his mother, hes scolded for thinking he could ever be on par (logan plays the violen btw - he entered the music exam with a violen and its what his mouther abuses him for when he plays wrong or doesnt answer right/right away to note related questions) with bach, and then hes hit with the ruler and sent back to his room, where he plays the bach vinyl thinking it will be bach but then its metal and it sort of awakens something in logan and he sort of snaps

when he runs into remus again remus offers to teach him, steals an amp and guitar from the observatory, and then when he goes home then this is where hes hit until his forearm is literally dripping with blood and hes sobbing, but sort of that unhinged sort of sobbing where hes like :) while sobbing and bleeding, and his mom is saying hes no longer allowed to take walks because he was late, went through the park, ran in a suit, etc, and how logan will be studying with her daily from now on, and through gritted teeth, a sob, and a smile, as he clutches his bloody wrist hes like "yes mother, ill study under you every day. every day. every day." and he and remus had luckily agreed already to meet by the dumpster at midnight, and thats what they start doing

remus teaches him how to play, and logan literally gets no fucking sleep and becomes more and more sleep deprived as hes taught more and more and it makes him more and more manic and unhinged, and he has periods where he fucking snaps and can play the bass super well because hes fueling his anger and his trauma into how aggressively he plays and is actually super good, and eventually he and remus get a gig with these two other bandmates 

and that happens to be the day that the way he hides his diary (where he gets out his murderous thoughts over his father, writes about lying to him, and writes down notes for music he wants to make) and his model of the city (which hed spent a lot of time on and cared about a lot and made out of every day things like lightbulbs and pencil shavers and had to keep hidden) were revealed and his mother found them, and she threw it into the trash where logan saw it crumbled as he walked home in the rain, and while his mother is aggressively shouting at him she says something along the lines of "who are you going to choose. your family, or some vagrants!?" and logan sort of snaps, goes wide eyed, and walks the other way, despite the fact its rianing and his mother demands him to come back, and then starst screaming about how if he ever comes back to the door hell never be allowed back inside, and thats where that episode ends

and basically i was thinking that logan leaves, and sort of walks around in his suit with his violen for a while, before he goes back to the alley where he hides his guitar that remus stole for him and his punk clothes, and he grabs them both and sort of mindlessly wanders until he ends up back in front of remuss trailer

when logan shows up remus doesnt realize until he opens the door of his trailer and prepares to leave and logans just standing there staring, utterly soaked, and he craves his neck up when remus walks out and remus is like "holy shit dude, you scared me. its not even midnight here. how long have you been here?" and logan doesnt answer, and hess not used to tocuhing people or being touched gently, but he sort of falls into remus, and collapses against him, and he starts sobbing because he just lost his family, and he left his dad all alone, but ehs finally free from the abuse, and hes so tired and so confused and hes never felt so unsure of his next move but remus just pulls him inside, brings his stuff inside, they step over his sleeping and drunk parent, and remus takes logan to his room (possibly the one he shares with roman ?) and basically just hugs logan as he sobs and cries and eventually passes out against him because hes literally so fucking sleep deprived, and remus takes liberty to change logan out of his sopping wet clothes, but then both of logans arms are covered in scars, some of them still scabbed, and remus is immediately concerned but he decides hell ask about it when logan wakes up, and basically ust goes out and shoplifts some food or steals from his parent to buy shit, and when logan wakes up hes given low quality food that he accepts gratefully, apologizes for showing up unceremoniously and being so informal, but remus just hesitantly wraps an arm around him, and logan accepts it, and remus says its fine while cuddling with him and then again hesitantly asks what happened

and logan sort of goes silent and doesnt talk about it, but clears his throat and asks if its okay he stays here, and theres already three people living in this trailer so he feels bad for asking, but remus just pulls him closer and is like "yeah man! of course you can stay!" because obviously hes not going to tell logan no after what he just pulled, so he lets logan stay, and remus and roman bicker for it a bit when logan uses their small ass bathroom to shower, and by the end remus has basically bribed roman into going along with it

and logan has to adjust to not being a wealthy - althought not spoiled - person anymore, and sometimes he reacts to things on instinct. he breaks something and remus comes up behind him and asks what happened and logan just sort of stares straight ahead, rolls up his sleeve, and sticks out his arm, and remus is like  logan?? and it takes logan a few seconds to snap out of it and he sort of gazes at remus, goes wide eyed, and then apologizes as he brings his arm back in and rolls down his sleeve, and he seems really awkward but also quite relieved, and remus has never hurt him before, but it was just sort of that reactive thing, and that happens to be the day where remus decides to ask what those scars are, and asks to finally treat them properly because he hears logans whimpers and hisses in the shower

he and roman have their fair share of scars from their own shitty drunk parent, so they know pretty damn well how to take care of them, and how to steal bandages and shit, so remus helps clean them out and up while logan sort of quietly tells remus all about his life, why the music exam was such a big deal, and how remus basically changed his life, and how hes still confused and doesnt know if he made the right decision, and remus doesnt respond until the end where he bandages up logans arms and then gently grabs his hand and tells logan that hes safe now, and that being surronded by people who only put you down and more so hurt you isnt good, and that he believes logan made the right decision because hes safe here with them (the twins make sure to keep him guarded from the drunk parent) and roman seconds that from his spot on the bed, and so logan tries to put his past behind him and instead focus on playing music with remus, and playing shows at bars and stuff where they slowly gain a larger and larger fan base, and they make more and more money from the awesome music they play, and eventually use that money to buy their own house

i know its a lot, but just imagine. imagine

[yandere-daydreams]

Hi I was wondering if u could do a sequel to your trade off fanfic it’s sooo good and I need to know what happens next?!?!

You should just count yourself lucky this was one of the few pieces I wrote with a small continuation in-mind. Osamu’s my favorite, out of the twins, but it’s hard not to imagine Atsumu taking every opportunity to steal attention away from his twin, even with the twin they’re supposed to be sharing. He seems like the type to get… desperate, when he’s not in the spotlight.

Part One.

TW: Kidnapping, Emotional Manipualtion, Mentions of Violence, Slight Dehumanization, and Sligh Infantalization.

~

Osamu was stricter than Atsumu.

Atsumu was never kind. Even when you loved him, even when your relationship had been normal, he’d never been the type of boyfriend to bring home flowers or surprise you with a home-cooked dinner, even if he was more than happy to hang off of your waist and moan about how long it was taking as you made sure your pro-athlete didn’t starve to death. No, he wasn’t considerate, he wasn’t even nice, but he never made an effort to be cruel, either. When you acted-up, when you tried to run away, he would slap you or put you over his knee or do something painful and humiliating, but it’d never last for more than a few hours, and as long as you apologized and promised to be better, he’d never hold it against you. Osamu had rules. He had a method to his madness. When you fought back, you weren’t just told you were incapable, you were treated like you were incapable. Your restraints got tighter, your freedoms dwindled until they’d abandoned you completely. He’d let your misdeeds build up until he had to hurt you, until he could say he didn’t have a choice. He stood back and watch you dig your own grave, only to push you in when it was too deep to climb out of.

Atsumu treated you like a partner who didn’t know they were meant to love him back.

Osamu treated you like a pet who should know better than to not love him back.

That’s not to say you didn’t still hate Atsumu. You did. You hated him and his brother more than one person should hate anyone. You just couldn’t rember why you’d hated Atsumu so much--

“Hey there, thinkin’ about how much you miss me?”

Oh. Right.

That’s why.

It took you a second too long to curl into yourself, to snap in the direction of the familiar voice in an unfamiliar tone and bare your teeth at Atsumu’s smirking, unwanted face. You had been lost in thought, technically, but not of your own volition. After your latest bout of ‘misbehavior’, as your current captor put it, he’d started confiscating your books, your luxuries, anything and everything that might stop you from reconsidering your actions, like a child forced in the corner for a prolonged time-out. You didn’t have anything to do except think, but Atsumu didn’t have to know that. He didn’t get to know that. He didn’t get to know anything about you.

“Why the fuck are you here?” You spat, forcing the question out through gritted teeth. Anyone else stumbling into your bedroom would’ve been a god-send, it would’ve been a miracle. If Atsumu decided to make an appearance, it was only to throw you back into his basement, rather than his brother’s spare room. “Don’t tell me that you and Osamu are comparing notes, now. You might actually figure out how to stop me from leaving, if you put your two brain cells together.”

“That’s not the kind of language you should be usin’ with me, is it?” This question was just as mocking as his last, salt that was only ground deeper into your wounds as Atsumu took a step closer, then another, leaving the door ajar behind him. You considered trying to run, trying to push past him and see if you’d be able to make it further than the threshold, but just as your feet began to twitch, his fist was closing around your collar and he was dragging you to the edge of your bed, posing you to face him as he scanned over your form, his smirk dropping into a sneer as he evaluated what Osamu had dressed you in, what Osamu had done to you. Still, you couldn’t tell what bothered him more - the faded bruises encircling your wrists and the bandages plastered to your sides from his last punishment, or the monstrous, lacy things Osamu preferred to dress you in. “What’s he doin’ to you, baby? No wonder ‘samu wanted me to drop off some of your stuff, I’d kill him for makin’ me wear--”

“What do you mean he wanted you to? How did you know where I am?”

Atsumu’s eyes widened, his nails digging into the thin fabric. Instantly, you knew you shouldn’t have spoken.

“He hasn’t told you.” There was a laugh, breathy and amazed and disbelieving, as if there was some great, astounding, wonderful secret Osamu was supposed to share with you and hadn’t. In the blink of an eye, he’d let go of your collar, but the liberation was fleeting. Instead, his fingers were quick to tangle themselves in your hair, jerking you upward as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his grin pressing against your skin, not doing any harm but sending a reflexive, frigid jolt of panic down the length of your spine. You tried to push him away, shoving at his chest and attempting to put the smallest amount of distance between your body and his, but Atsumu was more than happy to drag you closer, to hold you tighter. “He hasn’t told you anything. Damn, and I was startin’ to think I was the mean one.” Another laugh, a chuckle this time. “He tried to make himself sound like a real hero, right? Such a good guy, taking in a stray from evil, clumsy Atsumu? How long did it take you to realize he was just as fucked up as your old-guy?”

You shook your head, but the sense of betrayal was numb, dull, a well-used blade struggling to find its way to your heart. Osamu hadn’t lied, or… he hadn’t lied for very long, at least. He’d made it sound like he’d gotten lucky. You’d just chosen the wrong place to go, the wrong pair of arms to run into. If this was supposed to happen, if they’d wanted this to happen, that would mean he knew what Atsumu was doing and he hadn’t…

You didn’t think you liked what that would mean.

You opened your mouth, ready to deny it, but before you could get a word out, Atsumu was being dragged away from you, revealing Osamu standing behind him, all tension and sharp frowns and narrow glares at his brother and at you, more the former than the latter. You forced yourself to relax, to fold your hands in your lap and take on the softened, fragile posture Osamu was so adamant that you maintain, but obedience did little to save you from the harshness in his voice, as he spoke. “I told you to stay out,” He grunted, ignoring you in favor of reprimanding Atsumu. “(Y/n) ain’t yours, right now. You have to wait your turn if you wanna play with ‘em.” 

“So cold, ‘samu. What I’d do to get on your bad side?” In an instant, Atsumu was all high-pitched whines and dramatic pouts, making a point of rubbing at the back of his neck and turning his back to you, his obsession seemingly forgotten at the hint of something more interesting to do. “I’m just makin’ sure our baby knows what’s goin’ on. It’d be a shame if someone left ‘em in the dark, wouldn’t it?”

Osamu moved to answer, but you were faster, this time. “Is it true, Osamu?” You asked, the words hardly loud enough to be audible. “Did you... did you know?” 

For a second, he met your eyes, and something almost apologetic flashed across his expression. 

You might’ve been able to believe it was, if he wasn’t so quick to turn away. 

“Get out.” If he was growling before, he was seething now, his shoulders squaring as he cocked his head towards the door, his hands balling into fists at his sides so tightly, you had to wonder if he’d manage to draw blood. “You’ve already done enough damage. I don’t need you going around, saying that kinda shit and puttin’ more ideas into their head. Get out before I throw you out.” 

Atsumu just shrugged, only slapping his brother’s back as he passed by, making no move to argue, to stay, to take you back. It seemed like he wasn’t going to acknowledge your presence at all until he reached the door, pausing for a little too long as he threw an idle, careless smirk over his shoulder. As consceded as it was crushing. 

“I’ll see you in a few weeks, angelface.” 

[bluebellhairpin]

No More

Fantasy AU!Levi Ackerman X Fem!Reader

Part One - No Feelin’ - Part Three - No Regrets 

A/N: SO I wrote a piece for a Discord Event and ummm I wrote a part two? instead of anything else I have backed up? In my drafts? And ask box? Oopsie? - Nemo

Summary: A year past, and word from you has been scarce to none. After leaving Levi high and dry last time, he’d been preparing for your return ever since. What he didn’t expect was to see you so suddenly - sitting atop the throne he was supposed to protect. 

Warnings: Violence. Language. Character Death. Blood (I feel I should emphasise this one, it’s... gorey. For me). Mentions of rape. Slight Misogyny. More of my bad poetry. MC says Zeke has a small pp. 

Listening to: ‘MORE’ by K/DA (slowed) - ‘When I go it’s for gold yeah, they cool but I’m cold. I don’t fit in the mold, I’m a rebel.’ 

Series Masterlist

Masterlist 

There was something about the eerie silence that followed your first ‘visit’ that set Levi on edge. 

He remembered how quiet you were as his subordinate. How you stood back and watched when you could, but managed to surprise everyone when you had to get in and get dirty like all those others training to be a knight. He wondered what he could’ve done to change things, to have stopped you from becoming that monster he fought in the throne room. 

He knew there was nothing he could do about that now, but something about those last words you spoke to him - ‘find your advantage’ - they just stuck with him. 

He knew the sword he was given was special. That it had abilities that no human blacksmith could’ve given it. It gave him strength. Immunity. It could heal, rebuild, and it gave him the ability to endure. Yours was not like that.

The people the King put in charge of studying it said it was destructive. That everyone who tried to wield it in the past had suffered nothing but pain, and in trying to control the power it held they’d only succeeded in killing themselves. 

Levi knew that you were not like them. Not before. Not a year ago. He knew, not now either. 

“You’re very diligent in welcoming me back, Little Captain.” 

And how he hated it. 

He was left frozen in shock, watching you as you sat atop the throne - legs crossed, the fingers of one hand tangled in the hair of the old king’s body-less head, while the other held that damn sword. The crimson of his blood matched your tainted skin, dribbling down your arms to match your bright veins, and the color of your dreaded blade. 

It was like the color of corruption was red, and you were so soaked in it that it stained the floor. With that thought he could almost fool himself into thinking it wasn’t the king’s blood at all.

Except for the stench of it. It was like he was punched in the face with the reek.  

“Oh don’t look so surprised,” you said, tutting at him and waving the kings head in his direction, “I thought you would’ve been preparing for my return.” 

“You weren’t supposed to come back.” 

“Oh, but the king was sitting so nicely on his throne just then, I had to.” You said, letting the head drop to the floor. It rolled down the stairs, meeting it’s limp and pale counterpart. “Can you just imagine my joy when he was here to welcome me with a pretty little concubine between his legs. I couldn’t help myself!” 

“You’re insane!” he said, taking his sword in his hand and rushing up the stairs to be met with the tip of your sword at his throat.

“Ah ah,” you said, “You pledged your life to the crown, to serve and protect. I killed the old king, now the crown is mine.” 

He grit his teeth, cursing himself for not noticing. For not being fast enough. Then, and now. 

“Bow. To your new Queen.”

Levi would never admit how easily he obeyed you.

Despite knowing he had the power to over-power you, he didn’t dare use it. 

The old King - Fritz - had not been laid to rest. As far as he knew you had him turned to garden mulch. Him and anyone who decided you weren’t fit to wear the crown. 

He had to say, the rebellion that broke out once your position was made public - from those that wanted you gone, and those who thought that meant they could break the law because you did - was silenced much quicker than he’d seen a rebellion be silenced in his whole life. 

You slaughtered those who stood at the castles gate, pushing those who wanted you gone with a heel to the back of their heads. They who rebelled against you had a choice - die like those who banged on the drawbridge, and have their blood and innards join the muck in the moat, or submit like the knights. 

Then you took to the streets and made those who deserved it pay back what they had taken. If they stole from a market stall, they returned with interest. If they decided to rape, their manhood was taken. If they decided to kill, they paid with their own lives in turn. 

So despite your aloof yet demanding nature, your lack of empathy, and love of - putting it lightly - a hunt, you made peace reign over the kingdom. That was something all the knights could admit.

“She’s kinda hot though.” His eyes snapped over to a newer knight, Flotch, who was muttering to Jean, who was in turn doing a very good job of ignoring him. “You know, if you take away the creepy eyes, and those nasty veins on her arms. I’d tap that.” 

He had to resist from groaning. Of course there’d be people lewding their new ruler - a murderous one no less - and one of such people had to be one of his subordinates. 

“Seriously though, look -”

“- Watch your tongue, young one.” A voice said, and Levi did a doubletake to find you behind Flotch with a clawed hand around his throat. “Diminish me to a piece of flesh like that again and I’ll brand your forehead with a big fat ‘M’.”

“W-what’s that supposed to mean?” he slurred, his own grip now ghosting over yours.

“‘Misogynist’.” you hissed, tightening your grip on his throat before withdrawing, leaving dripping red marks behind. He stood still for a few short moments, then doubled-over, clutching his neck and letting out garbled noises of pain. 

“Serves him right.” Jean said, stepping past Levi and over Flotch’s legs to follow you as you walked away. 

“Something needs to be done about him.” you mused. 

“I agree. For once.” Levi said, stepping to his side to face you before mumbling an addition, “I bet his ass looks as hairy as an ape.” You barked out a laugh - loud, and as smooth as whiskey.

“That would account for the little monkey he’s hiding in his basement.” you said, leaning down to hush the comment in his ear. Levi could tell that there wasn’t an actual monkey, nor a basement, and a rushed glance down Zeke’s body also told him it wasn’t entirely true, however you had been everything but subtle about anything anymore. 

“Do you want war?” Zeke asked, covered eyes narrowing over at you. You tutted him, reminding Levi about the time you directed such an action at him - taunting with his failure of protecting the old king. 

“Would you go to war over a dick joke?” 

He wouldn’t. That Levi knew. No one was petty or childish enough to go to war with another whole-ass country just because it’s ruler said your dick was small. But Zeke was unpredictable. 

“I’d advise against it, personally.” you said, tapping your nails along the oak table, “It’s so mediocre. If I were to go to war with you I’d do something much more grand.” 

“Like what?” 

You smiled, wide and wicked, and Levi was reminded again of who you were. You’d beheaded the old king like he was just an unneeded piece of paper. You’d painted the castle moat red. Despite the good that was no doubt still there - somewhere - you were still very much evil. 

You were still corrupt. 

You raised a hand, performing a universal signal that meant to wait, and then a man came in. Huffing and sweaty, with eyes wide and broken. 

“Ze- you highne- Sir.” 

“- What?” Zeke asked, turning in his chair. Clearly unimpressed.

“Our capital. They… She attacked it!” Zeke turned back around, now looking much angrier.

“What?”

“Oh, it’s nothing major.” You said, waving him off as if he were just a child complaining about his socks not matching. “But your place of residence might have a few scorch marks now.” 

Zeke stood abruptly, drawing his sword, and causing a chain reaction. You mirrored him, drawing your own - abhit longer and glowing red in aggression. Levi drew his, as did the other guards, Erwin and Miche. And the two with Zeke drew theirs as well. 

There wasn’t a single person in the room that didn’t have a sword on them, and not even Levi could say he wasn’t on edge. But you? You just laughed, lowering your weapon.

“Okay, this is stupid. Let’s just -” 

“If you call burning my city ‘stupid’, then I’d love to know what you’d call me lathering your streets in your blood.” 

“Oh,” you cooed, “Looks like I struck a nerve. Or maybe you’re on your period?” 

“Quiet!” He yelled, pushing his sword closer to you. “Or do you want me to slice off your tongue.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

He tried. 

And much like anyone else who crossed your path, he was lucky to have just left with his tail between his legs. However, him being Zeke, had to leave behind something to be remembered by. 

This particular time it was in the form of a huge gash, spanning across your shoulder and up your neck. 

Despite your all-powerful nature, the power your sword gave you was not one that could heal. It took what it was given, and it corrupted it. So even if all Zeke gave you was a scratch, the power of your sword meant it took that scratch, and made it into a cut. Oozing blood, and pulsating with a pain that made you wince with every heartbeat. 

You skulked away towards your chambers, a bottle of alcohol in your hand, and closed the door behind you. 

Levi knew that it could very well kill you. That’s what you were warned of. It would give the kingdom a chance to regain a sane ruler. It would be good if you died. 

‘From chaos to healing, is where to gain the sealing; 

Where they be kneeling, you’ll have no feeling.’ 

Those were the words you told him the first time you met. But later, after you started ruling and he became your own personal guard, you told him there was more. There were ruins. Books. A whole civilization even. Those two phrases were just a part of a whole. A whole that you knew. 

‘The one who stops the war, to try and reach the core;

Along the gentle shore, they will gain more.’

There was more to that sword than just corruption, and there was more to his sword than just healing. 

Leaning against the wall outside your room, he took his sword in his hands, watching as the symbols along it’s blade glowed up at him from the interaction. 

He could save you, but would it be worth it? 

[catgrump]

oumota 42 for the angst/fluff perhaps?

Alright gang I’m diving into so many of my AUs for these requests it’s not even funny

WELCOME TO THEATRE AU! This ended up being a pretty decent length too lol I worked on it all day so I hope y’all like it!!!

For set-up: Kaito & Kokichi are both studying acting in my specific Theatre AU

🌻🌻🌻

Kaito looked at his watch and sighed. Where the hell is he?

The emptiness of the rehearsal room was daunting. A tiny room of painted cinderblock walls, cold linoleum tile floors, fluorescent lights, soundproofing boards, and empty furniture made of simple shapes.

Kaito had gotten to the space early, for once. He barely slept last night since this ungodly hour was the only time he and his scene partner could get where they were both free.

He leaned forward on the bench. The metal back was getting uncomfortable.

He looked back at his watch. Now he’s five minutes late. Is that like him? He barely paid attention to him in class. It’s not like he chose Kokichi to be his scene partner; they’re doing this for a grade.

“Sorry I’m late!” A sing-songy voice chirped through the door as it opened.

Kaito looked up and saw Kokichi: just who he expected. He wasn’t expecting him to be so chipper before 9 AM, though. How could anyone? Kokichi adjusted the strap of his messenger bag on his shoulder, causing the paper bag he was holding to rustle

“It’s fine,” It wasn’t, but this wasn’t a fight Kaito wanted to pick.

“Hey, your hair looks nice,” Kokichi told him as he gathered his stuff on a rehearsal cube

Impulsively, Kaito ran his fingers through his hair to try and remember what he did to it today— that’s right: nothing. He brushed through it and walked out the door because it was so damn early he didn’t have time to style it.

Confused and embarrassed— and confused why he felt embarrassed— Kaito replied “Yeah, uh, thanks. You too.”

You too? Where did that come from? Kokichi turned to him with just as much surprise as Kaito felt. “You think so?”

And now Kaito was on the spot. Maybe it was sleep deprivation, or maybe it was hunger, but he didn’t think he was lying. Nothing wrong with noticing a guy’s hair looks nice tied back, right? Just a simple compliment. Gritting his teeth, Kaito just nodded back in response.

He kept his focus on Kokichi as he explained why he was late. Kaito didn’t really care that much. They were both here now. They need to rehearse this damn scene.

But as Kokichi was talking about the line at Bagel Bros being longer than he expected, Kaito noticed how... clean he looked. Does he always dress sharp? A cardigan over a button down and some jeans that fit him... really well. He looked down at the hoodie and sweatpants he chose for himself and felt underdressed.

Kokichi put the paper bag on top of a different rehearsal cube and picked it up, waddling toward Kaito with his script dangling from his mouth

Kaito furrowed his brow, “Sure Kokichi, I’ll help you,” He sarcastically remarked at his obvious precariousness

Kokichi moved the paper bag into his lap as he sat down and put the script beside him. “Oh if I wanted your help, I would’ve asked.”

Well shit, seems like Kokichi can dish it as well as take it. Kaito shook his head and smirked as the bag rustled some more. Kokichi reached his hand inside and pulled out a bagel wrapped in a piece of parchment paper. “Here,” he shoved it in Kaito’s direction, “I wasn’t sure what kind you’d like so I just got a plain one.”

Kaito was caught off guard. He gently took the bagel from Kokichi’s hand, somehow worried he’d snatch it back like it was a prank. “You didn’t need to—“

“Oh then next time I won’t; thanks for saving me the meal points!”

As Kaito took a bite, Kokichi continued, “Maybe next time you can buy me breakfast,” did he just wink?

Kaito swallowed. Hard. “Hehe, just a little joke!” Kokichi chuckled as he took another bagel out of the bag and took a bite himself

For some reason, Kaito felt like that wasn’t entirely true. But he couldn’t think about that right now. He grabbed his script from beside him and opened it up. “So, how do you wanna do this?”

Through bites of food, Kokichi replied, “Let’s read through the lines and if we come up with any immediate blocking ideas, pitch them.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They read through the scene relatively quickly. No one spoke up about any ideas. They just delivered the lines. It’s only a three-minute scene, so it’s not like a read-through was a waste of time.

Kokichi chuckled as he flipped back to the first page. “You know, I really wish I could play Don. I mean I totally get why it’s you; I look way too young.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

Kokichi looked at Kaito, dumbfounded. It was almost insulting. “Did you read the whole play?”

Apparently the look on Kaito’s face was enough of an answer. “You didn’t,” he sighed, “Great, now I have to explain it to you.”

“Hey, I’ll pick up a copy as soon as—“

“No, this is important. We need the context of everything so we can actually block the scene. We aren’t just going to half-ass it.”

Kokichi took a deep breath and straightened his posture. He looked really serious. “So Tennessee Williams is Don. When he was in his late 20s, he fell in love with a dancer. That’s Dick. But “Dick”, AKA a man named Kip, didn’t reciprocate his feelings. So he wrote this play to cope. Like a catharsis. The whole thing screams 1940s, but I felt for Don. Knowing the object of your affection is just out of reach.”

He paused. He was looking directly at Kaito. Kaito desperately tried to read his face. Why was he so difficult to figure out?

Kokichi laughed under his breath. “Not that you’d know anything about that.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Kokichi smirked

“Okay, so,” Kaito tried to guide the conversation back to the work they needed to do, “I guess we need to talk boundaries? If you’re saying that my character is,” the next words were unexpectedly a knot in his throat, “in love with you— your character... we’re probably gonna like, make contact, right?”

Kokichi still had that smirk on his face. He stood up with his script in hand, and started strolling around. Kaito followed him with his eyes, “Yeah, I can see Dick leading him on,” Kaito suddenly felt like he was caught in some kind of game, “Like at this part where he starts talking about Don’s eyes for the first time.”

Kaito had to crane his neck as Kokichi made his way behind him. And in the blink of an eye, Kaito felt an arm wrapped around his shoulders. “You don’t listen to me,” Kokichi read from the script, “you look at me all the time with those crazy eyes of yours but don’t understand what I say.”

Flustered feeling the waffle-knit fabric against his body, Kaito didn’t think to grab his own script. He leaned in to read Kokichi’s, making their heads touch, “I could if you said what you mean,” was Kaito’s next line

“I mean just what I say,” Kaito could feel Kokichi’s breath on his skin as they continued to read

“But what you say makes no more sense than— than hieroglyphics make sense to a man that knows just English.” Kaito had no problem reading these lines just a few moments ago. Why is he suddenly so tense now that Kokichi is this close?

And then he suddenly pulled away. “Well— like I said, I was joking,” Kokichi bounded away, embodying the dancer he was playing, but dropped character before continuing, “Was that okay?”

Kaito swallowed as he looked at the confident smirk Kokichi had on his face. “Y-yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah that’s fine.”

“Oh good,” Kokichi smiled, “I could hug you all day; you’re stronger than I imagined.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t worry about it! How about we take it from the top?”

Prompt from This List: feel free to send a request!

Tip jar available on Ko-Fi if you enjoyed it 💛

[vibesoda]

salty in dolorem makes soda a god. i thought it was funny cause the man’s fucking stupid. enjoy this awful shit-show of a drabble

-

Far away, almost dreamlike birdsong whistled through bushes and leaves, cloaking the forest in a distant ambiance of serenity.

A gentle breeze weaves between trunks stretching high into the air, gently kissing the clouds with their tufts of green.

If you listened closely, you could hear faint, indistinct whispering echoing from all directions.

Dry leaves shatter under Salty’s footfalls. They’re unsure how they got here or where they came from.

All she knows is that she must find Fruit.

Salty gazes anxiously into the sky as the sun slowly dips below the horizon. It was inexplicable, but they knew they had to get out of the woods before nightfall. They grit their teeth and break into a jog, flinching as sticks and branches splinter under their feet.

“You’re going the wrong way,” A low, melodious voice calls from behind. Salty gasps and swiftly turns on her heel, eyes scanning the clearing hastily — yet finding nothing.

A twig snaps, and Salty whirls around once more, almost slamming into a figure who she swore wasn’t there just moments before.

In front of Salty stands a man with pale green skin and unruly dark hair that curls around his goat-like ears, save for a single green streak near the middle of his hairline. A thick sage cape draped lazily around his shoulders, held together by a golden clasp with a strange symbol engraved into the surface. Salty seems to tower above him, yet she still feels unnerved as he speaks.

“Yo.” He offers a lazy two-fingered salute, followed by a yawn. “You’re Salty, right?” Gravel coils around his words as if he’d just woken up.

Salty nods, too shocked to speak.

“Mmkay, I thought so but I’m a little stupid sometimes.” He gives a dry chuckle as he fidgets with the clasp of his cape. “Hi. I’m Soda. I wrote this damned thing.”

“Wrote?” Salty asks, raising an eyebrow.

This guy’s gotta be missing a few screws or something.

“Yeah,” he intertwines his fingers in his hair, running his hand through the fringe that frames his face. “I dunno,” He sighs, heaving as if he’s out of breath. “Like, I made this place. From my hell brain.”

“You… made this place?” Salty takes a cautious step back, preparing themselves to make a run for it.

“Yup.” Soda murmurs, looking around aimlessly. “Though I’ve never actually been here. It looks exactly how I imagined it.” He pauses, his eyebrows scrunching together. “Oh wait. Duh. Of course it does. I would be a little concerned if it didn’t.”

“Okay,” Salty responds, humoring him. “So, you said I was going the wrong way earlier. How do you know where i’m going?”

Soda stares at them. “I know everything. Unfortunately.” He snaps his fingers, as if he’d just remembered something. “Right, you can’t have the cat ears and stuff here, sorry. It kinda fucks with my plans a little.”

“What?”

This guy’s not making any sense.

“Uhh,” Soda hums, tapping a finger to his chin. “I guess I can just show you.”

Before Salty can ask just what he’s showing them, the page stops.

—

“D’ya get it now?” Soda asks, stepping back onto a brick pathway just beyond a grove of trees — the same forest from a few seconds ago?

Behind Soda stood a small village of houses, with a large fountain in the middle of them all. Brick and cobblestone paths lined the entrances to each building.

“Wh—“ Salty stammers “Huh? Did you just… teleport?”

“Not exactly.” A yawn punctuates Soda’s words. “What you just experienced was a time skip. Basically, I know the specifics, but everyone else has to fill in the gaps based on the context clues. Got it?”

“No,” Salty chuckles in disbelief. “No, I really don’t.”

“Alright, fair enough.” Soda holds his hands up in surrender. “I guess it’s a little confusing.”

“A little?” Salty chides, crossing her arms. “That’s an understatement.”

“I guess you could say I’m the god of this place. It’s my brain child. Came from me noggin.” Soda snickers, tapping his temple. “I control everything and anything. It’s not like my word is gospel or anything, the way I’ve built this place is that everything is up to interpretation. Sure, I give some specifics, but this place is what you want it to be.” He gestures grandiosely toward the town square. “Oh, shit. I forgot to mention you can’t have your cat ears and shit here. That would be a bit of a plot hole. Hold on, give me a second.”

Salty cocks her head to the side in confusion. “Huh? But you definitely…”

“Mkay we’re good,” Soda interjects. “Sorry it took so long, I had to find a good place to slot that in.”

“Sure,” Salty draws out the last syllable. “So you know where Fruit is, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah I do.” Soda stumbles over his words as he speaks. “Fruit… well, we’re somewhere in between chapter five and six, so my guess is either in his house or outside somewhere, I dunno.”

“I thought you said you knew everything.” Salty groans, quickly growing tired of this so-called “god.”

“I guess I do. I don’t know all the specifics though. If I give it some thought I guess I can tell you exactly where he is.”

“No, no, that’s not necessary.” Salty responds hastily. “I can find him myself.”

“Sick,” Soda clicks his tongue, grinning lopsidedly. “I don’t like havin’ to think.”

The two stand in awkward silence for a moment.

“Welp, you seem like you’ve got it covered. I’ll see you later.” Soda repeats his two-fingered salute before disappearing as soon as Salty looks away for a split second.

Well then.

Salty shakes her head, deciding to forget about Soda and search for Fruit.

[rhysismydaddy]

Failing a Polygraph (Nessian)

All I write is Nessian. Wrote this in 5 minutes because I had a dream about being in the CIA and having to take one of these.

________________________________________________________________

“State your name for the record.”

“Nesta Archeron.”

The annoyingly beautiful man across from her smiled as the polygraph machine started taking down a baseline. 

Nesta sat, perfectly unmoving, and tried not to roll her eyes. These things were so tedious. And besides being a huge waste of time, they’d taught her in the academy how to beat one, so it was actually kind of pointless. 

“Date of birth?”

She sighed. “March 15th, 1995.”

“Just two days after mine,” Cassian pointed out, oh-so-helpfully. 

“That’s not a question.”

He smiled, dimples popping up on his tan skin. “Right you are. You’re applying to the Paramilitary Operations Unit, correct?”

“Yes.” 

He should very well know, considering it was his unit, but she kept that to herself. 

“Why?”

Fuck, I hate polygraphs. 

“I’ve maintained my cover during my three years with the CIA, so I’d be perfect for undercover ops.” He didn’t look impressed, so she continued. “Plus, I aced all the exams to enter the unit.”

“Did you now?”

She didn’t ask why he didn’t just look at the needle in front of him to see that it was the truth. Cassian just sat there, smirking like always, golden eyes studying everything about her. 

“I believe I scored one point higher than you, actually,” she said cooly, unable to help it. 

She never had figured out how to bite her tongue around him. 

They’d met around two weeks ago, after her preliminary interview for the unit. Nesta had bumped into him in the hallway, not known he lead the program she desperately wanted to be a part of, and had given him her piece of mind when he’d commented on her dress.

Or rather, what was under her dress. 

It wasn’t exactly a great first impression.

Not that he seemed to mind. Ever since then, he’d been teasing her, and flirting with her, and driving her insane in every possible way. 

Including now. 

Cassian smiled, leaning back in the chair and watching the needle move in between them. 

“Tell me a secret,” he said, eyes twinkling with undisguised interest.

Just to mess with him, she responded, “I had a dream about you last night.”

He twirled a hand in the air. “Elaborate.”

“I was at a drive-thru, and you were the one flipping burgers,” Nesta replied, biting her lip to keep the smile off her face.

“Very funny.” He scowled at her, which only made her smile grow. “Have you ever committed a crime?”

“Nope.” She gave him a small smile. “Contemplated assault a few times, though.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Have you ever committed an act of treason against the United States?”

“No.”

“Great. Boring questions are out of the way.” 

Wonderful.

“What’s your most embarrassing memory?”

Nesta finally gave into the urge to roll her eyes. “In ninth grade, I got off the school bus and the wind lifted up my skirt. And before you ask, yes, I was wearing underwear.”

“I’m jealous of the kid behind you,” he joked, running a hand through his hair. She traced the motion, wondering how the hell he managed to look good even under fluorescent lighting. “Let’s see... what else do I want to know?”

“No, what else do you need to know? For the purpose of giving me a job?”

He shrugged one of his massive shoulders. “Same difference, baby. I want to know... won’t you find it difficult?”

“Find what difficult, Cassian?” she spat back, both loving and dreading the tone of his voice. 

He smirked, full lips so damn distracting. “Working under me.”

It was an innocent question, but the way he said it made it beyond obvious what he meant. 

“Nope,” she replied, popping the p with satisfaction. 

“Really?” he scoffs, golden eyes twinkling with mischief. “I mean, it’s beyond obvious you’re attracted to me.”

Nesta gritted her teeth, the urge to rip the wires off her and strangle him with them growing by the second. “First, I’ll remind you this is a professional polygraph.” He rolled his eyes. “Second, you’re supposed to be asking me questions.”

“Fine.” He leaned forward, thick arms crossed on the table. “Are you attracted to me, Nesta?”

Her mouth dropped open on its own accord. Is he serious?

“I’m reporting you to your superiors,” she mumbled back, face heating with a blush. 

A laugh. “Who, Rhysand? My best friend? Fell free. Now answer the question.”

“What question was that, exactly?” she asked, trying everything to stall the inevitable. 

Cassian rolled his eyes, well on to her games. “Nesta Archeron, are you attracted to me?”

“No,” she said back, using all the tips and tricks she’d learned in the academy to fool the machine. 

He grinned, eyes shooting to the polygraph machine between them. They lit up like a fucking kid on Christmas when he looked back up. “That’s a lie.”

Shit shit shit. There was literally no telling what was going to happen next. 

“Machines make mistakes.”

Cassian shrugged, leaning closer to her. “Next question, then. Have you ever imagined having sex with me?”

Every time I look at you, you fucking miserable bastard.

“No.”

He didn’t even need the polygraph to catch that lie. Her blush was so bad, she wondered if she’d catch fire and burn through her skin. This was the most embarrassing thing she’d ever gone through. 

Except, for some reason, she wasn’t that embarrassed. It was obvious he already knew she was attracted to him, so he was probably just messing with her. 

“That’s a lie,” he repeated with a smile. 

Before he could ask another damning question, she said, “This is very unprofessional. And annoying. If this were reversed, would you endure it?”

“Yep. Ask me anything you want.”

She hadn’t really seen that coming. 

She decided to give him a taste of his own sickeningly sweet medicine. “Are you attracted to me?” she asked, sure he’d lie and say no. He hadn’t been the only one to catch onto something.

“Yes, I am. Infuriatingly so.”

Nesta decided she’d never breathe normally again, but she whispered back, “And have you thought about-”

“Having sex with you? Oh, baby girl, you have no idea. I think about having you under me all the fucking time.” He gave her a sour look. “I hardly get anything done with you around.”

She needed to get her jaw wired shut or something, because it was ridiculous to just sit here with her mouth open like this. 

“So, you see, you can’t be in the unit.” Wait, what? I’m going to fucking kill him. “And before you try to strangle me, I’ve already recommended you for the Special Operations Unit, which is basically the same thing, just not for vets. Okay?”

Wait... then why- “Why the hell did you make me take this poly, then?”

He smiled that little smile of his. “I had a hunch you wanted to jump me, but I couldn’t be sure until I had you hooked up to this thing.”

Oh, that’s it. Nesta grabbed the wires across her chest and threw them on the table with a growl, getting up so fast her chair hit the wall with a bang. 

She exploded into the hallway, practically sprinting towards towards the exit. She was almost there, literally had her hand around the handle, when something wrapped around her waist and pulled her the other direction. 

Straight into a supply closet. 

“What the-”

Cassian grabbed her wrists and slammed them above her head into the door now closed behind her, then pressed his lips roughly against hers. 

His mouth was hot on hers, devouring her everywhere, and he kissed her like a drowning man coming up for air. 

And, much to her own surprise, she kissed him back. 

She told him how much she hated--and wanted--him with her mouth, making sure he understood her perfectly. Nesta knew she should stop, knew they were at work and that she wasn’t about to let him have her in a damned supply closet.

But she also couldn’t bring herself to care.

So she kissed him until she went weak in the knees, and his arms wrapped around her waist to keep her standing. 

He pulled back, nipped her nose, and murmured, “See, I can’t exactly do that to the people in my unit.”

She just nodded and pulled him back down to her. “I’m still filing a complaint about you,” Nesta told him, completely serious.

Cassian kissed her again, lips now sweet against hers. “I’m not worried. Worked out pretty well for me, anyway.”

________________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading... drop prompts/asks in the box :)

Coming out with some Rowaelin tomorrow.

@a-bit-of-a-cactus @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @aesthetics-11 @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life

[n-anon]

Fallout (Chapter 1)

Disclaimer: I don’t know how long this will be yet in terms of chapters, BUT THIS IS A SEQUEL SERIES. If you’re planning to read this, Please read My multi-chapter series of Ready Aim Fire, this will have spoilers to that! I’m linking it down below just so y’all can do so.

Ready Aim Fire Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

Okay done? All good? Then lets go.

Description: And as the ashes settle, everyone tries to return to what’s normal....And what’s left.

(TW: mentions of death, burning, and self-blame)

“Its been two weeks. His funerals on Tuesday. Are you coming?” Marvin stared at his hands. Still imagining the fire as it leaked through is fingers, he sighed, staring up at Schneep. “....Yeah. Of course.” Schneep nodded, jotting it down, he then set down the notepad, and grabbed  the cup of coffee, drinking from it eagerly, “Okay. Now talk to me.”  Marvin scowled, “I-I can’t. You know that.” Schneep hummed, “Can’t? Or Won’t? Jackie told me you will hardly speak to him. Hell, you can’t even look JJ in the eye. You did what you needed. It doesn’t make it any easier, yes. But locking yourself up for it in your own little mind prison and not talking is going to make it worse.” Marvin grit his teeth, the urge to just-burst out. Let it all burn.....let it go. He couldn’t. Not now. “Also. Jackie says the police need an account, they want it to go well with the public....That you didn’t mean to burn it down.” Marvin opened his mouth angrily, but Schneep cut him off, “I know you meant to burn it down, we all do. But ze people don’t. They want assurances that as Jackie’s new sidekick you weren’t trying to burn it down. That’s what their calling you by the way.” 

Marvin snorted. He was hardly a sidekick. He was the whole damn show...but the show was a mess. He nodded silently, “Can I go now?” Schneep sighed, then took another sip from his coffee, “Yes. Again, if you ever need to talk....well-You know.” the Magician nodded and with that he stormed out, unintentionally slamming the door as Schneep winced, and turned back to his work. He grabbed his pencil and began working, yet again. Of course, Marvin wasn’t the only one going through something right now...they were all suffering. The pieces were on the floor, and he didn’t know who was going to pick them up. Not without.....Nein. They would make it. It would be hard.....But they had to. His phone rang and he answered. “Dr. Schneeplestein’s office, how can I help you today?” 

JJ stood at the pier, staring at the spot. His fists were clenched, remnants...ashes. That’s all it was now. No heartbeat. Nothing he could do. The blaring yellow of the caution tape surrounding what little was left of them....He was happy. Sad.....All mixtures of emotions he couldn’t express out loud. He thought that when he died...It would return. That he could finally....But that was a dream, a false hope that kept him going. And now? All that was left was just the rubble. He felt the hand on his shoulder and the familiar steps. “Jameson? If you’re not ready we can-” He shook his head, and walked forward, glancing at the crumbled warehouse, “I just want to make sure there are no weird temporal differences...is all. They still found the knife, like you-made....them do. I’m just...worried, call it double checking.” Jackie told him that afternoon, JJ was eager to at least get out of the house, seeing boxes piled up near his door was too much to bare. If he was just stronger-No. They would’ve eventually found out. At least, that’s what he told himself. Jackie motions to the security guards, he had told them that JJ was a private investigator friend, he just wanted to double check, what little the police force knew of Anti-before...this, wasn’t much, but they understood he was dangerous, and could probably kill everyone in town if he wasn’t actually dead. He walked, looking around, what was left of the body of Chase had been removed. He sighed, closing his eyes as tears came up, he couldn’t think of that right now. He had to focus. He reached out for anything. Any sign, looking at his wrists he remembered the connection that was there before everything went wrong. Nothing. Not even a yoink. He turned to Jackie, and shook his head. Jackie seemed to relax, as he patted JJ on the shoulder, and the man left in a daze, he needed to get out. To breathe. Jackie stayed behind to talk to the cops, as he made the long journey home.

Stacy Brody wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or just dying inside, but she cried anyway. Finding out that Chase did none of the things he thought he did, Jackie’s final explanation filled with words of vitriol and persuasion, her mind swam as she tried to wrap her mind around it all, but one thing was clear. Chase had died a hero. And she was going to do what little she could to make sure he had a funeral like one. “Mommy?” She turned to see their-her youngest son, still wearing that hat Chase gave him, he looked so much like-She wiped the tears from her eyes and turned off the sink, “What’s wrong?” She asked, turning to him and pulling on her best smile, “Nothing, honey. Just remembering your dad.” The boys expression grew muted, sad, quiet, “Oh.” She had surmised he would know what was happening soon enough anyway, and what kind of mother would she be if she kept that from them? They deserved to know what happened...what kind of person their dad was, before they started forgetting, anyway. “Is...Are Uncle Jackie and the rest gonna be at the funeral?” Her son asked in a quiet voice, “Of course honey, they’ve assured me they’ll make it.” She knew the kids all loved their adoptive ‘Uncles’ “Now, where’s your sister?” The boy crossed his arms, “She’s still in her room.” Stacy sighed, “Okay. I’ll go talk to her, its time for both of you to get to bed anyway. Its late.” The boy pouted, “But mom-” Stacy walked up and picked him up, he was just 8, and she was tired. “C’mon, help me go get your sister to bed, alright, Grayson? You gotta be strong for mommy. If you go to bed early we can read that story about sharks you love so much.” Her sons eyes lit up and she smiled softly, as he ranted on about sharks, she closed her eyes, we’ll be fine. I think.

‘Oh, so you’re new? Welcome to the group chat! You got a name or nickname you use?’

‘You can just call me Blip for the moment, I usually go by that lol. Sorry to hear about your dad D: that really sucks. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. We all are, I think. Anyway yeah I know we’ve just met but hey, if you need someone to talk to...’

‘Absolutely! We’ll help you in anyway, if you need anything, we’ll be here for ya Oli.’ 

‘Thanks guys... I might honestly just take a quick break from....everything, ya know?’

‘Understandable, take all the time you need!’

‘Yeah. I think I can figure out how this place works before too long :P’

Oli laughed at the comment, and smiled, she was glad her friends understood that, she let out a hiccup and wiped the tears from her eyes. She just didn’t know what to think right now, Everyone online was saying it was an accident. She wasn’t stupid. She knew Uncle Marvin had something to do with it, and the funeral was the best place to confront him about it, they needed to know the truth, if not for her for Grayson...at least. She sighed as a knock on the door came, and she exited the chat without much of a goodbye, and laid in bed, “Olivia honey, are you awake?” Her mothers voice creeped through, she let out a very fake snore, hoping she’d take the hint as her mother sighed, “Okay...Love you honey.” She heard the door close as she just buried her face in the pillow, and eventually she fell asleep for real, dreaming of fire.

(A/N: THIS IS A LONG BOI. Also sorry for this very sudden, very out of nowhere sequel series, @rogue-of-broken-time’s post about posting fics we never thought we would make really got me thinking, and eventually thinking got me to go like ‘lol what if I wrote a sequel series based in this uni about the aftermath. And yes the sons name is Grayson cuz haha references, and if you get that reference, you get a gold star. Hope you enjoyed, and as for how long this series is gonna be-Uh...No idea lol We’ll see. This is just mostly set-up. If you want to be added to the tag list, as always, send me a DM, comment below, or ask, and I’ll get right on it!)

Tag List: @segernatural @pyranoia @caithesavage777 @vwoop-prince @antis-gauge @heely-um @therealtiger77 @a-bnana @randowaffle @sharkyg @miishae @innocent-angel3  @darcywillfindyou @asexualerror

[fierysafrina]

Scars | Nash Gold Jr x reader

Fandom: Kuroko no Basket Rating: Teen (just in case) Word Count: 2.500 Genre: Slice of Life | Angst | Hurt/Comfort Additional tags: tw: self-harm | Depression | Breakdown | mentions of past abuse Summary: You didn’t mean for Nash to see you at your lowest even when you had a hunch that he already knew. Notes: So this oneshot is mostly based on my experience a couple of weeks ago that I wrote as me coping with it. Unfortunately I’m too much of a scaredy cat to actually put up with it and move away, but hey one can dream right?

Also huge thanks to Alex, who helped me with typos asdfghjkl

Rain poured outside. You’re sitting on the balcony, watching the downpour with a cup of cold tea in your hands. Seconds apart there were lightning and thunder. It sends shivers down your spine, making you jump. As much as you’re used to storms by now, you still find yourself flinching when watching directly.

You hear bits of music from inside that make you sigh before you stand and walk back inside. Closing the balcony doors behind yourself, you walked over to the couch and sat down. You stare at the turned off TV screen, not even bothering to turn it on. Pulling your legs against your chest, you wrap arms around your knees and tilt your head, leaning on one arm. You close your eyes and listen to the rain outside and the music that’s streaming from your laptop.

You don’t hear Nash coming back until you hear keys being thrown onto a small closet on the hallway that wakes you from your short slumber. Blinking with your eyes, you stretch your arms and legs before you stand from the couch.

“Did I wake you up?” Nash asks when he walks into the living room.

“Mm,” you shake your head, smiling. “Just closed my eyes for a couple of minutes.” You admit and kiss him on the lips.

He smiles into the kiss. “Mm-good, ‘cause I have something for ya.” He says and pulls away.

You wonder what he has in mind, but you hear it before you see it. It was a rather silent cry that made you raise an eyebrow while Nash’s smile widens. You follow him into the hallway, eyes widening when you see a carrier and from inside peeking a white cat. You coo and kneel down, opening the carrier and taking the cat out. She stills in your hands and you smile, rubbing her stomach.

“How old is she?” you ask, looking at your boyfriend.

“Four years,” Nash answers and he walks behind you, placing his hands on your waist as he leans his chin on your shoulder. “The woman at the vet said she’s spayed and was given shots against diseases, so it should be fine since she’s used to being inside.”

“Oh?” you raise an eyebrow, your expression that of a surprise. “May I ask why you went to the vet?” you smile, ready to tease him.

“Just didn’t want you to be lonely when I’m not here.”

His answer surprised you. You blink and turn to look at him. Your eyes are wide, but your expression softens and smile returns. “Thank you,” you whisper and press a kiss on his cheek. After all, how can you tease him after saying something like that?

Nash wants to say more, but when you look back at the cat with kind eyes, he changes his mind.

Your hands are shaking as you stand in the kitchen. You’re peeling an onion and your eyes are blurry from sudden tears. There’s a wave of emotions and the knife slips off the onion, the edge of it cutting your palm. You don’t realize it right away as you focus on your heaving chest. Releasing both the knife and the onion you hold your head, nails burying into your scalp. You pull on your hair, bursting into tears. You begin to pace around the kitchen, walking from one side to another before you stop back by the counter. Closing your eyes, you try to calm down, try to list five things you hear, feel or smell, but to no avail. You grit your teeth and slam your head onto the counter, moaning from pain, yet it doesn’t stop you from inflicting more pain.

Your whole body is shaking and you don’t notice the cat rubbing against your leg meowing. You pull on your hair once again and fall on your knees.

Using the chance, the cat moves closer and begins rubbing her nose against your face.

“Wet…” you murmur, blinking with your eyes as you slowly come to yourself.

You hear the cat purring as she continues to rub against you, meowing occasionally. Your breathing slowly evened and once you calm down, you’re sitting on the floor with your back against the kitchen counter and the cat sitting on your lap. She’s watching you, purring while you’re rubbing her head. You don’t dare to move even when you know you should prepare lunch, but you’re tired; exhausted from the breakdown you experienced. You wonder what you should explain to Nash when you notice the cut on your palm. Your scalp hurts as does your forehead, yet you remain sitting on the kitchen floor, petting the cat.

You’re not sure how much time passes, must have been an hour or two, but the cat is still on your lap lying when you hear the door open. By now you usually greeted Nash halfway, only this time, you don’t have much strength in yourself to stand up.

“Babe?” Nash’s voice is heard from the hallway.

“Here…” Your voice cracks and you force a smile when he walks into the kitchen.

Nash stops midway, his eyes focusing on you, but you saw the brief look on the counter and at your cut palm and before you know it he’s kneeling by your side, his hand on your cheek. “What happened?” he asks, eyes filled with worry.

You part your lips to answer, to tell him what happened, yet not a single word can be heard. For some reason you can’t tell him and as much as it pains you for keeping it from him, you can’t help yourself. You close your eyes and shake your head.

“It’s okay,” His voice is quiet and he leans forward to press a kiss on your forehead.

At that you wince. “I hit my forehead.” You admit in shame once he looks at you in wonder. His eyes widen and he’s quick to cup your face, brushing away your hair to check for injuries. “I slammed it on the counter, but I’m fine. I didn’t break anything. Just a small headache, nothing serious.” You blabber out. You didn’t want him to worry more than he already was.

“What were you thinking?” he chokes on his own words, his eyes meeting with yours.

“Nothing.” You chirp and smile weakly. “I was just … so overwhelmed that I didn’t think. God I don’t even know what I did, but my scalp hurts.”

Nash curses under his breath and closes his eyes, sighing. “Why didn’t you call me once you had calmed down? I would have come back sooner.”

Your smile softens and you lean against his palm that caresses your cheek. “I had Nessie with me.” You reply and look down at the cat that’s still sleeping on your lap. Her ears twitch once in a while and move her head, but she doesn’t move from where she’s lying. “How long have you known?” you whisper, looking back at him.

For a moment he hesitates. “One of your friends asked about you.” He decides to say, admitting. He sits beside you, pulling one arm around you to bring you closer while the other he rests on your thigh.

You close your eyes and sigh. You expected your family to tell him, yet it ended up being your friend instead.

“I looked up the internet a bit,” Nash continues and brushes Nessie’s head; “and saw that cats are good for emotional support.” You chuckle at that, imagining Nash frowning at the phone while looking for information. “Then Nick said there’s a vet close to his place, which is how I ended up with Nessie. She's not an official ESA, but if you want to—”

“It’s okay,” You shake your head, smiling. “Just having her here was much better than being alone.” You admit and look back at Nessie, who was then looking at you. Closing your eyes, you take in a shaky breath before you speak; “I remembered when I first broke down.” Your voice is nothing but a whisper, but Nash being so close, he hears you much clearer than you wanted.

Nash stills, but he doesn’t speak. He remains silent, waiting for you.

For a minute you don’t say anything. For a whole minute, memories of that time resurface and you feel your hands shaking only for Nash to hold them. He raises your hands and kisses your knuckles, his gaze unfocused, yet still focused on your hands instead. A small smile spreads across your lips and you wonder to yourself just how did you get so lucky to get him. You know of his past flings and of his bad boy persona he used to have—still has. Yet whenever he’s with you, he’s gentle like he’s afraid you’d break even more.

“You know I’m not in a good relationship with my family, right?” you ask and Nash nods, his eyes focusing on you. “I’ve never been completely happy when I lived at that place. We always argued, constantly, every day about anything.” You scoff, remembering those days like they happened not too long ago. “The days we didn’t argue? Felt like a holiday.” You laugh, shaking your head and you look at Nessie, smiling softly. “I dreaded the place so…much.” Your voice shakes and Nash grips your hands just a bit tighter.

“Are those scars from that time?” Nash’s voice is quiet.

“Mm,” you nod, glancing at your thigh. “Scissors…” you murmur in a whisper. “It’s always been scissors. I thought of sharper objects, but then I’d be found out. I didn’t want that. No one knew after all. The only time I finally did snap and tell mom it was after coming from doctor’s appointment. She prescribed me pills and honestly I wonder if I truly were depressed, you know?” you look at Nash with a small smile. “Maybe I just wanted my family to notice me, notice that I’m not okay and mom did treat me better after that. Ha…” you laugh. “It didn’t last long, that’s for damn sure.”

“Then she just…forgot I guess.” You continue. “She started to treat me the same as before. Constantly reminding me who’s paying the bills, how I never do anything around home, how she has to do everything alone. I didn’t have any will, any motivation for anything. I was falling apart and all she saw in me was a lazy child that was conceived as a mistake. A child she never wanted.”

Nash doesn’t hesitate to cup your face, making you face him. His gaze is harsh, almost a glare. “You’re not a mistake.” He grits out, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. “You were never a mistake.”

Reaching up, you cover his hands and close your eyes. “I know…” you whisper. “But as someone, who’s always been there to tend to her when she fell or was hurt only to not be appreciated and never told ‘you did well, I’m proud of you’, it takes a toll on you, y-you know?” you choke on your words. “I felt l-like a stranger in my own family. Always an extra. Which was why when I had my first breakdown I w-was scared. I was terrified, because a sudden thought c-came and I realized I wasn’t okay. I’ve never been okay. I’ve always l-laughed and smiled at people, pretending I’m okay, pretending I’m some goody-two-shoes only for this façade to fall the moment I re-reached home. I was exhausted. My head hurt from slamming it on the counter and wall. I-I pulled on my hair and that’s all I remember. I might have screamed too and maybe it showed on my face because when mom and her friend came home they stared at me like something-something was wrong.”

Nash wraps his arms around you and pulls you towards him, engulfing you in a tight hug. “I’m sorry…” he whispers.

“What for?” you mumble, your head leaning against his chest. You could hear his heart, beating just a bit faster than usual. “I never told them I’m looking for a place to move away and job across the states, the world. When I found the job and place I asked my friends to move things, not my family. I had some money already saved, so I was saved for the rent for a couple of months until the first pay.” You bite your lower lip, watching Nessie rubbing against Nash’s arm before she squeezes between the two of you. “I told them one day before I left. Of course we argued.” You laugh and sigh a moment later. “Apparently I’ve been the most ungrateful child they ever knew though all I ever did was try to live up to their standards. But once I moved here into LA, all I did was send them a letter. I didn’t call them. I didn’t message them. I wrote a letter and sent it. It was hard in the beginning. Even to the point of feeling like giving up and going back home tail between my legs. But I didn’t. And then I met you …” you pull away and look at Nash, who smiles.

“It was kinda lame, that first meeting, wasn’t it?” he asks, teasing.

You laugh loudly. “Well, I’ve had worse encounters. Yours was actually…interesting.”

“Was it now?” he raises an eyebrow. “I guess I should’ve thanked that basketball that landed on your head.”

You smack him on the chest, rolling with your eyes. “Well, I’m sure if I hadn’t burst into tears because everything was piling on me and stressing me out, I doubt we’d have come this far.”

“Oh, you did cry. I remember.” He’s teasing you and you know it, but you still can’t help the heat of embarrassment that rushes through you. “Sorry, I just can’t help myself,” he chuckles and pulls you into another embrace. “I’m actually happy that accident happened. Silver teased me for that every time he remembered while Nick had never looked more disappointed at me than in those six months.”

“Six months?” you repeat and laugh when he nods.

“When he saw you crying and me not even trying to apologize, I could see it in his eyes that he lost even that small respect he had for me.” He admits, his cheeks turning pink. “I’ve never been more confused than in that moment. With how he approached you after I apologized it looked like he knew you.”

“We had met a couple of times before.” You admit. “Only on the street or in stores. He always greeted me with a raised hand or just smiled, which terrified me if I’m honest. I thought I was suddenly his new target he wanted to get money from.”

Nash laughs at your reason, making you grin. “Ho, I can totally use that for when he gets ahead of himself.” He says more to himself and you shake your head.

“I’m really happy you’re here.” You say so suddenly that Nash stills. “Honestly? I always wondered when you'd dump me because you would grow bored of me.” You try to laugh, but you don’t succeed and you wince internally as you add in a whisper; “I still am.”

“I would never…” he says quietly and kisses the crown of your head. “It pains me when you suffer alone, so when you feel like the whole world is against you, come to me. In that moment I’ll be your shield, your protector. You’re not alone, [Name]. You have me.”

And with those words, you could breathe just a bit better, freer.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous; continuing from these)

“Impressive.” Hoshiguma smirked, deflecting the strike of a blade. “Is this the best the Radiant Knight can do, though?”

“In fairness, you’ve yet to land a solid blow on me, either. Two immovable objects, destined to clash until the end of time...” Nearl was cut short as she had to grit her teeth in the face of another shield-spin from the Oni- 

A buzzer sounded, and the two immediately pulled back. “Break time!” Hoshi announced, walking back to the bench and grabbing her towel.

“It’s very fortunate we’re fighting for the same side, Hoshi.” The Kuranta started shedding the upper portion of her armor to cool off faster. “I can’t imagine standing against you for long in a fair fight.”

“Thanks. Frankly, you’re not too bad yourself; I chalk it up to going easy on me, honestly.” She grabbed a water bottle from under her and launched the cap to the ceiling with her thumb.

Nearl stifled a chuckle. “Yes, because I would certainly think to go easy on someone at your level.”

“Heh. Flattery won’t get you out of the next set.” Hoshiguma sighed. “Still, it’s good to hear I’m doing my job as your trainer and making you work.”

“That you certainly do.” There was a brief silence as they both focused on rehydrating.

A focus Hoshi accidentally shattered on her end when she caught her eyes wandering. “Sorry.”

“Hmm?” She hadn’t noticed. “Did you do something you needed to apologize for?”

“Not to you, no. Been trying to control myself a bit more for my girlfriend.”

...Okay, now the Kuranta was truly lost. “Control yourself? In what sense?”

“You really didn’t notice? I thought an Oni’s stare was supposed to do something to people.” She sighed. “Your breastplate does a better job than I thought of covering you.”

“Oh, I see. It does, doesn’t it?”

Hoshi shook her head. “Not even phased, huh?”

“We all have our weaknesses.” Nearl smiled. “Which one?”

“Eh? My weakness?” The Oni had been just about to take a swig.

“You girlfriend. I know it’s someone from Lungmen, but I don’t know if it’s Ch’en or Swire.”

Hoshiguma crushed the bottle in her hand as she let out a hearty laugh. “You think me and Ch’en would be a couple? OH, that’s a good one...Yeah, I’m dating Swire now.”

“I’m happy for you. We should do a double-date some time; I’ve been meaning to introduce Shining to you, but our mission schedules have been at odds since the Contingency Contracts started up again.” The Kuranta grabbed another water. “Is she as soft as she looks?”

“She’s got a temper, but nothing I can’t handle. The other day, we got into a fight over what to watch on her TV, and she did this cute little roar like she was trying to be a tiger or something. Never given up an argument so damn quick in my life.”

Nearl giggled. “I meant her fur, actually, but that’s adorable. Shining has never gotten angry with me, but there was at least one point where she and I disagreed about which of the Montoya sisters wrote the better romance trilogy, and seeing her blush does things to my heart I didn’t know it was capable of until then.”

“You both read Montoya? Swire’s trying to get me to read those, but you know as well as anyone I like my books like my movies - less talking, more explosions.” Hoshi launched a bottle cap into the opposite wall this time; it left a dent in the mat. “She likes FEater’s stuff, though, so most of the time we can compromise there. You ever try acting out something from those books?”

“Um...” It was one thing to not expect the question, and another thing entirely to not expect the answer you had. The Kuranta was in the latter position.

Which the Oni immediately picked up on. “I’ll take that as a yes. Did it work out?”

“It did...Almost a little too well.” There’d been complaints about their light shining through minute cracks in the tiles, including in the room above, while they were in a hotel in Siesta. “Has Swire ever suggested something like that?”

“Nah, she’s not the suggesting type; I came home one day, she told me what was gonna happen, and I played along. Totally worth it.”

Nearl blinked. “You let her give you orders?”

“She’s cute when she’s being a stuck-up little princess,” Hoshi admitted. “Like, I know if I wanted to, I could tell her no and she couldn’t do anything about it, but why would I?”

“Oh, I agree, I simply didn’t expect you to be a...”

The Oni winked at her. “A bottom?”

“I suppose that’s the proper term.” The Kuranta scratched behind her lower ear. “Your general demeanor paints a very different picture of you than you’re describing.”

“So you’ve thought about it?” She chuckled at the look that earned her.

The knight sighed, shaking her head. “I wonder what Shining would think if I told her. She’s a very understanding woman, and we’ve been friends for long enough she’d likely recognize my intent, but-”

“It’s not like she has to know,” Hoshiguma interjected. Nearl went quiet. “Sorry.”

“Let’s not make that an option,” the Kuranta asserted.

A nod. “Yeah, I getcha. Well, now that I’ve made an ass of myself, how about we get back to sparring?”

“If you’re ready.” She was glowing now, ever-so-slightly. “Hopefully you can put your shame to use.”

“Ooh, I really did hit a nerve, then. Good; use that anger, and you might leave a scratch this time.”

Nearl readied her sword, took a brief moment to analyze her target, and then charged. Her Oni friend had hell to pay for reminding her of those feelings...