#once again having a burst of energy to explain something

[mellosdrawings]

Do you think in the N2 Squad, Jamil will just randomly get a burst of confidence and flirt with Leona and Vil, just for them to turn it around on him and he then gets so flustered he enters Caterpillar Mode™️ (pulls his hood over his face) for a solid hour?

I kept this one in my asks for a long time coz, while I thought it was a good ask and wanted to draw something for it, I am also plagued with the terrible curse of being both aromantic and autistic and struggling a lot with the very concept of ~*flirting*~

So first, gonna thank @aria-faye and @the-fab-fox for their insights and having the patience to explain to me the big strokes of flirting.

And now, I'm gonna quote aria-faye word for word cause he explained Jamil's flirting perfectly well in my opinion :

"I feel like Jamil is just... bad at flirting. He can tease and joke and all that, but when he's doing it with the intention of flirtation, i feel like he stumbles. His version of intentional flirting would probably be just... being overly straightforward. Saying what he's thinking for once."

"I feel like Jamil isn't very charismatic when it comes to flirting, so he isn't saying it [compliments] in any sort of way. Just pointing out a fact, which, to him, is flirting. Because it's not something he'd normally say aloud."

"Here's the thing: I think if they played the flirting game, and if Jamil said something intentionally over-the-top, teasing flirtatious, they [Leona and Vil] would match his energy and do it right back. BUT Jamil would be equipped to volley that back over and over. It's not flirtation that gets him. There's an element of disingenuous in flirting. It's all exaggerated, a bit untrue. It's an act - a mutually agreed-upon act that everyone in the group enjoys, but an act nonetheless. And Jamil is EXCELLENT at acts. He's no blushing flower when it comes to flirting. He would take that stuff all the way to bed if that's where it led him. But compliments? He has no idea how to take compliments. He has such a low opinion of himself for so long that he never learned. Compliments are what make him blush. Not flirting."

"Like, Leona could be like 'Damn Baby, what does that tongue do?' And Jamil would immediately respond by purring 'Come here and find out.' But Leona being like 'You look beautiful today' would have Jamil like "Oh, um. *blushes, pulls hood over his head* Thanks, I guess.'"

"I think something else that would get him flustered is physical affection. Like he gets all hyped up to shakily hold their hands, and they immediately respond by kissing his cheeks and being sweet to him. That would make him blushy too."

"Flirting is basically just manipulation. Jamil knows how to do that. He's really good at that. It might surprise him at first, but if he's the one initiating, he wouldn't do it unless he knew exactly what he was doing. Flirting for real is kind of fake. A teasing dance you do to get to a more intimate set of behaviors. And Jamil is great at this kind of thing. There are a thousand ways to make him blushy if he's not initiating. But if he's initiating, that implies a level of confidence, so the options for making him blushy circles right back around to honesty."

"Leona and Vil flirt by antagonising each other, so it might take them a second to realize that whenever Jamil drops an Honesty Bomb on them like this and speaks plainly, he's flirting. But once they know, Jamil will never know peace again, because they turn it right back on him and compliment him honestly until he's curled up and hiding in his hood and begging them to stop."

(Yes we had a very long discussion about it x))

[ameliathornromance]

Your heart thundered in your chest. Everything was a blur, tinged with redness. Redness from blood that dripped from your chin and onto the ground.

You couldn't clearly remember what had happened. It was a nice and sunny day. You had gone on one of your regular walks. Admittedly, today was a little different. 

Your Orc Boyfriend, amazing and wonderful as ever, had brought you back a necklace. He said he found it in a cave full of abandoned clothes and jewels. “Probably left by some bandits or something,” he’d explained. 

When you questioned the stolen item, he nonchalantly waved his hand. “That stuffs been abandoned for years. There was a thick layer of dust on the chest.”

With that in mind, you put on the necklace and hadn’t taken it off since. 

Now it was gone. Scratch marks on your neck from long fingernails were now rising on your skin, red and angry.

The camp was finally in sight. It gave you a burst of energy. Ignoring the pain, you took off into a run. No longer being able to hold back the tears, you released a wail when you entered the camp.

Your Orc was over with his fellows, eating some kind of meat. He dropped it at the sight of you, rushed over and caught you in his arms. “Love? What happened?” He asked, eyes darting all over your body, putting pressure on the gash on your forehead.

Other Orcs took off in search of the healer, while others crowded around you, bombarding you with questions: 

“Who did this to you?”

“They’ll pay for what they did, won’t they?”

“Yeah, of course. We’ll give them a real beating.”

“Everyone shut up!” hollered your Orc.

Once your wounds were tended to and you had calmed down, you and your Orc Boyfriend, along with his group of fellows, all sat in your shared tent, clutching a mug of warm tea in your hands. Since you were in a much calmer mindset now, the memories had come back to you.

“I went to the town, just over the hill.” You started. Instantly, some Orcs snorted and growled, “Fucking humans, always doing this kind of shit.”

“Silence!” Your Orc commanded. They fell silent as you continued.

“There were some noblewomen. They saw my necklace and told me to give it to them.” You gripped onto the mug. “When I said no, they told me I must have stolen it from some other noble woman that I worked for. And…” You fell silent as tears welled up in your eyes again.

The Orc stayed quiet as they watched your tears roll down your cheeks. Your Orc was so quiet you could have sworn that he’d left the tent. 

A loud clap caused you to jump. “Everyone out.” Your Orc said.

All the Orcs looked at him like he was mad. “What? You can’t just-”

“It’s my living quarters, everyone out!” He snapped.

Grumbling and casting disdained glances over their shoulders, all the Orcs left. Except for your boyfriend. He sank to his knees by the bedside, head face down to the sheets. “They will pay for this,” He growled.

He went to leave. To go, order his others to prepare for an attack on the village, to avenge you and restore his honour. But your hand grasped onto his. “Don’t go.” You pleaded. “I… I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Your Orc stopped in his tracks. Looking over his shoulder, down at you on the bed, he wondered how anyone could have tried to hurt you. He returned to his position beside you, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “They will pay for this.” Your Orc promised you.

“I don’t want to hear about that right now.” You said. “Please… just… don’t go.”

And he didn’t. When you’d finished your tea and curled up under the covers of your bed, he sat there until you closed your eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

From that night onwards, he vowed to never let you leave the camp alone. Lest something like this happen again. He would never allow harm to come to you ever again. If they wanted to hurt you, they would have to go through him and his kin first.

Revenge could wait. The softness of your breathing was more than enough to soothe his angry heart.

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[transform4u]

Hey, I need your help! I'm in a happy and healthy gay relationship with the partner of my dreams, but there's this girl in my college who always had a huge crush on me. Her dad is some kind of powerful conservative politician or something. She keeps trying to get between me and my boyfriend. I'm so worried that she'll do something really bad just to get what she wants.

The party buzzed around you as you stood by the punch bowl, your mind still lingering on the auditions you’d just completed. You were feeling a mix of excitement and exhaustion, but that quickly shifted when your cute boyfriend returned with drinks in hand. You gave him a quick kiss, enjoying the warmth of his lips before he wandered off to grab something else. That was when Samantha, the quintessential entitled, snobby, rich girl, sauntered up to you.

She practically oozed privilege with every step, her designer clothes and perfectly styled hair making you want to roll your eyes. You tried to ignore her, scanning the room for your boyfriend. “Like, what are you looking for?” she asked, her tone dripping with condescension.

“My boyfriend. He’s supposed to be coming back with drinks and—” you started to explain, but she cut you off with a saccharine smile.

“Oh, silly, don’t think about him. I have a drink for you,” she said, fluttering her lashes as she handed you a plastic cup of jungle juice.

You took the drink with a mix of reluctance and resignation, your annoyance barely concealed. Samantha was everything you despised about this college—rich, entitled, and deeply conservative. But a drink was a drink, and it was better than standing around thirsty. You took a sip, and the jungle juice was a surprising burst of sweetness, the alcohol warming your throat as it slid down. It was smooth at first but quickly gave way to a burning sensation, a hot pain settling in your stomach.

Then, a peculiar sound rang through the room—a sharp, resonant snaaaaaaaaaappppp that seemed to echo and reverberate. You glanced around, but no one else seemed to react. Your attention snapped back to Samantha, who had an odd, almost predatory glint in her eyes now. "Don't ever think of that annoying little faggot boyfriend ever again", she said with a coy smile.

As you looked down, your Adam’s apple seemed to swell, bulging noticeably as an unfamiliar energy surged through you. It was as if a hidden force was awakening inside you, making your skin tingle. You could feel the jungle juice transforming, its warmth morphing into a strange, pulsating energy that made your entire body feel alive.

Your gaze flicked to your reflection in a nearby mirror, and you saw your once-skinny, frail theatre boy body starting to change. The energy coursing through you felt both exhilarating and disorienting. Your muscles twitched and rippled beneath your skin, their contours gradually shifting. Your arms, once slender, began to swell, veins popping up as they became more defined. Your chest and abs, previously delicate, were now straining against your clothes, hardening and sculpting into a more robust form.

Samantha’s voice echoed in your mind, whispering, “Babe.” The word seemed to fuel the transformation, as though her very presence was molding you. You watched in disbelief as your body continued to change, every muscle becoming more pronounced, more powerful.

Your reflection now showed a strikingly handsome, young preppy bro—a vision of sculpted perfection. Every muscle was meticulously defined, from your abs to your biceps, which now bulged with impressive strength. Your shoulders were broad and commanding, seamlessly transitioning into powerful arms that seemed to effortlessly draw attention. Even your legs were a marvel of athleticism, each step you took radiating a potent mix of power and grace.

Your face, too, had transformed. The high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes spoke of classic, preppy charm. You wore a confident, almost cocky smirk that suggested a mix of intelligence and mischief. The entire package radiated youthful vigor and meticulous grooming, a modern Adonis wrapped in preppy charisma.

The energy that had transformed you was now settling, leaving you with a blend of awe and confusion. Samantha’s gaze was one of satisfaction, her eyes twinkling with a mix of triumph and something darker. You could feel her influence lingering, but now, you were faced with the new reality of your own transformed self—a striking figure of athleticism and charm, commanding attention with every move.

As you stood there, grappling with the bizarre transformation, Samantha’s voice cut through the confusion like a siren’s call. “Babe, Daddy’s going to love you,” she moaned, her words resonating with a deep, almost hypnotic allure. The sound wrapped around you, and a shiver ran down your spine. It was as if her voice was weaving itself into the fabric of your thoughts, reshaping them.

Memories, once vivid and cherished, began to flare up in your mind, but they weren’t the memories you expected. The recollections of theatre camp, where you’d shared innocent kisses with your boyfriend under the stars, or the electric thrill of singing showtunes in dimly lit dive bars seemed to dissolve into a searing blaze. In their place, new memories, laden with a different kind of intensity, started to worm their way into your consciousness.

You saw yourself in the opulent ballroom of a fancy party, dressed in pristine designer attire, the epitome of privilege and entitlement. The room buzzed with the drone of high society gossip, and you were at the center of it all, effortlessly commanding attention. You could almost taste the exclusivity, the heady sense of superiority that came from being part of this elite circle. The feeling was intoxicating, a stark contrast to the camaraderie of your previous experiences.

Flashes of prep school days invaded your mind—those were the times when you were the quintessential preppy douchebag. You remembered the way you’d sauntered through the hallways, your perfectly ironed shirts and perfectly tousled hair marking you as someone who was above it all. You relished in teasing those you deemed beneath you, their attempts to fit in falling short against your polished, unapproachable demeanor. The thrill of belittling others, the way their reactions validated your sense of superiority, was both exhilarating and addictive.

Images of fucking your way through the entire cheerleading team danced across your mind. The clandestine meetings in the back of limousines, the whispered promises, and the easy conquests—it was all part of a lifestyle built on entitlement and indulgence. Each memory stoked the flames of an arrogance you hadn’t fully realized you’d possessed.

As these new memories took root, you found yourself looking at Samantha through a different lens. Her entitled, snobby demeanor suddenly felt less like an affront and more like an extension of the world you were now embracing. The rich, privileged allure that had once seemed so foreign to you now felt familiar, even appealing. The changes in your body mirrored the changes in your mind, reinforcing a new self-image that was sleek, assertive, and commanding.

Samantha’s satisfaction was evident, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of triumph and something else—perhaps a touch of smugness. You understood her now, or at least felt you did. Her world of high society, privilege, and unabashed arrogance was no longer something you resented; it was a realm you were beginning to inhabit, relishing in the power it conferred.

The cacophony of sound fills the air, like a chorus of the gods screaming their praises, yet your gaze is fixated solely on Samantha, and it feels as though nothing else matters. The colorful lights spin around you as you raise your voice in exuberance, towering above the rest like a towering behemoth. You lick your lips, feeling them plump up as you imagine all the ways you want to ravage her. The thought of her heaving breasts is driving you crazy, and you can't wait to get your hands on her.

As you imagine the ways in which you want to fuck her, you start to feel like she's your property, your plaything. You envision squeezing her ass, pulling her in for a kiss, and then taking her hard and fast. The image is so vivid that you can almost taste the sweat on her skin and feel the heat of her body against yours. "Babe, this fucking party rocks!" you scream, your voice carrying above the din of the music. But as the words leave your lips, your mind starts to dwindle, your thoughts growing foggier and foggier.

The booze is running through your veins, clouding your judgment and dulling your senses. You feel dumber and dumber, your movements becoming more sluggish and less coordinated. But you don't care - you're too busy imagining all the ways you want to take Samantha. You're too busy picturing her screaming your name as you ravage her, too busy feeling like the king of the world.

As the music continues to blast and the crowd swirls around you, you stumble and stagger, your vision blurring. But you don't care - you're too busy chasing after Samantha, too busy trying to catch up to her before she gets away. You're too busy imagining the way she'll look as you take her, too busy picturing the sound of her moans as you fuck her hard and fast.

You spot a faggot wandering around, desperately looking for his boyfriend. You remember him from that one theatre production you attended, the one with all the faggots dressed up in drag. You recall how he pranced around the stage, reciting his lines with an over-the-top flair. He's a real theatre dork, and you can't help but roll your eyes at the sight of him.

You take a step forward, a scowl on your face. "Yo faggot, this isn't a fucking party for loser gays like you," you scream at him. The other partygoers turn to look at you, their faces a mixture of confusion and amusement. You don't care. You're too busy being a homophobic jerk.

You take the drink out of his hand and spill it all over him. The liquid drips down his shirt, leaving a trail of red on his white skin. He looks up at you, his eyes wide with anger. You just laugh. "What's wrong, faggot? Can't handle a little bit of spilled drink?"

Your dick starts to harden as you think of the ways you want to fuck Samantha. You can't believe how lucky you are to have her all to yourself. You run your hand through her blonde hair, feeling the silky texture between your fingers. She looks up at you, a smile on her face. "You're going to go far in politics with daddy's money," she says, her voice husky with desire. You just laugh, knowing that you've got her right where you want her.

As the night goes on, you and Samantha act like an entitled, douchey couple. You hold hands, kiss, and cuddle in front of everyone. You make sure to show off your wealth, flaunting your expensive clothes and jewelry. You even go so far as to hire a private bartender to serve you and Samantha drinks, just to make it clear that you're above the rest of the partygoers.

Samantha runs her hands over your biceps and pecs, making you feel insanely horny. You can't believe how lucky you are to have her touching you like that. You start to feel like you're going to explode with desire. You grab her hand, pulling her close. "Let's get out of here," you whisper, your voice low and seductive. Samantha nods, following you as you make your way out of the party.

[my-writings-and-musings]

So Tumblr is barely functional as usual and wouldn't let me edit an ask and deleted it instead : )

Here's a response the dear anon that asked; "Anon here asking (respectfully begging) for more soundwave content. Can We have a continuation of mama reader? I am fully invested.

Bots being parents to tiny babies keeps my world going round so you absolutely can, dear anon. Continuation of this.

The bunker was far enough underground that day and night didn't really matter, but some part of you still new it was late when you were startled awake, your exhausted body gaining a burst of energy when you instinctively recognized what had awoken you.

Soft cries compelled you to move across the bed despite lingering pain, a powerful instinct giving you strength as you looked into the little bassinet that attached to the side of your mattress and found a squirming newborn Cybertronian. Despite being mere hours old, the little one had managed to kick off all his blankets, leaving him quite upset despite having caused the issue for himself. A rounded visor brightened when you came into view, his cries pausing with a hiccup as he recognized you on instinct. Tiny servos lifted to the sky and his needy cries started again. You smiled as you fulfilled his request and pulled him to your chest.

Just as you managed to lay on your side and get somewhat settled, the door to your shared bedroom opened and closed in a flash, a bright red visor stepping through the darkness.

"Is he alright?" Soundwave asked quietly, approaching with careful footsteps. Your son had ceased his squirms and quieted his cries, but his sounds of distress continued, tiny face scrunching unhappily as his sire kneeled on the berth beside you.

"Mhmm, just fussy, but he did kick off all his blankets." you explained, trying not to yawn. Your body was begging for rest, but you couldn't bring yourself to sleep while your little one needed you. Just having his tiny helm snuggled into the crook of your neck made you want to stay up with him forever. "I think he just wants me to hold him for a while."

Soundwave didn't look entirely convinced. Laying his much longer frame down beside you, he replied in a firm but gentle voice. "You need rest."

"I'll be fine." you answered quickly. You knew he was telling the truth, and your body wanted to comply, but you couldn't just let him go. Something deep had awakened within you when the sparkling had been born, and you were still adjusting. Even now, as his little digits grabbed a firm hold on your pajamas and his warm vents ruffled your hair, you knew you'd die for him without hesitation. Soundwave seemed to understand in his own way, but he was no less insistent for your sake.

"Correction; you'll be fine if you rest." he persisted, subtly tucking you in. The gentle touch of his digits did wonders for your lingering anxiety, and though a part of you still wanted to resist, you had no trouble handing over the mostly settled newborn when his sire offered his servos. Handing him over, you only heard a tiny sound of surprise before the sparkling settled once more, cozy as could be in the mech's careful grasp. "I'll figure out what woke him up."

"He's not hungry..." you offered with a yawn, keeping an eye on them both as you laid your head down on a pillow. You'd already started to learn what each particular type of cry was meant to communicate, and the one that had awoken you was more like the fearful wails he'd made upon entering the world, making you wonder what might have frightened him in the safety of his crib. Sleep clouded your brain and prevented the formation of any sensible theories. Thankfully, Soundwave had more energy to focus on the problem, his visor pulsing faintly in thought as he looked over the bundle in his cupped palm.

With his spare servo, he tenderly traced the rounded helm resting against his thumb, contemplating something you couldn't know until he finally spoke up. "Sensitive audials..." he noted at last, digits lingering as he took a second to observe and ponder the feature he'd given his son. Realizing he'd drifted off, the mech moved a bit more swiftly upon catching himself, looking to the ceiling so his expression couldn't betray him. "The ventilation system is quite loud upon activation. It must have startled him. Solution; resonance dampeners."

"That sounds like a good idea. We can get the nursery soundproofed before he moves in..." you said with a nod, already drifting off. Thoughts blurred as sleep came for you at last, your body dimly aware of the blankets being adjusted once more before warm digits stroked your cheek. You had just enough strength to open your eyes and meet Soundwave's scarlet visor.

"I can handle that, and this." he said in a final, tender insistence. Knowing that everything would be taken care of made it much easier to drift off. The last thing you saw before closing your eyes was the form of your son snoozing soundly in his sire's palm, a loving voice rumbling in your ears as you complied and prepared to dream of all that might be ahead. "Sleep, please. For both of us."

[dontlookatmytmntcollection]

First I Love You

Bayverse TMNT × Fem!Reader

This is self indulgent garbage I have made to keep myself distracted.

It varies from Drama to Fluff to Angst and Pre established relationship to a fucking year into being official to Y/N to she/her. No spicy tho. Good luck lol

-Raphael-

It wasn't panic.

It wasn't. He felt excitement. Raphael was bursting with energy. Stomach in knots, head pounding, chest pushing and pulling oxygen as if it was hard.

It wasn't panic. Leo concluded the huddle with a nod. "Let's do this!"

"Turtle power!" The group shouted. Turtle and human alike branched off in different directions.

Raph looked over at you.

"Raph, I-"

"C'mon people, let's go!" Vern called.

Raph didn't know what to do, heart racing and blood surging. Making him jittery. He half-heartly ran after his brothers.

He couldn't help but glance back.

You had taken a step back closer to Vern. You were watching them go, frightened. He understood.

He could die or get taken away- this might be the last he would ever see any of these people ever again. Last time he would ever see you.

"You don't have to do that." You had laughed, smiling as he lifted your couch.

"You're not gonna do it." He teased, watching your dog fetch it's toy happily.

"It's an upper east side candy shop." Raph explained one night. "I know you like sweets."

You gave him the biggest puppy eyes, smile ear-to-ear, holding the snacks to your chest. "You're my hero."

God, had he wanted to kiss you. He almost did one time. Almost spilled his guts when you blinked tiredly up at him. The scales of his arm were imprints along your face. Marks a movie lengths worth in the making. They wouldn't fade for several minutes. It was so cute.

Your hand grabbed his once. Tugging him to the edge of the water, in an effort to show him something. Probably. He couldn't remember. He hid his shyness under the banter. Soaking up the feeling of your hand in his.

Raph couldn't stop thinking about you, anymore. He knew you felt something too. He was more than happy about that.

But it wasn't meant to be. He knew better.

"We can't do this." Raph had whispered two days ago. Pulling his hand away from your fingers. Pulling away from what had almost been a kiss. "It's wrong."

Something numb fell over your expression. Blocking him out. It broke his heart as you pulled your lips tight. Looking down and nodding. "Okay."

Raph had faced impossible odds before. But this was bigger. Scarier. He knew there was a chance he could never make it. A good one if this plan doesn't go well.

No.

He needed to do this.

His feet started to do their own thing.

"Raph?" Donnie called. Confused.

You turned back around, suddenly swallowed up in Raphael's shadow. "Raph, w-"

"I love you."

Her eyes widened, staring up at Raph.

"I'm fucking crazy about you." He whispered, terrified. "I fell in love with you, and I'm sorry I-"

"Raph-"

"You're the best thing to ever happen to me, and I've been wishing I could be the guy you deserve, but I'm not, so...so I just want you to know -"

"I-I love you too." She whispered, rushing forward.

Raph blinked. Relief overwhelming him before he could register what had been said.

"I love you so fucking much." His best friends small hands were quickly on his cheeks; the sensation like lightning on his scales.

It...probably wasn't the best kiss, in hindsight. He had done nothing but stare wide-eyed in disbelief as it happened, was happening, and happened.

She pulled back, her hands petting his face. His hands holding her head too. Her eye contact made his limbs go numb when she whispered, "Just come back to me, okay?"

Just come back to me.

"Uh...Okay."

She choked out a laugh, letting go of his face and pushing at his chest. "Now go get 'em tiger." It made Raph choke and smile back.

"Raph!" Leo shouted.

Ignoring Vern's expression of horror. Raph nodded to himself. "Okay." He said again. "Okay." He sprinted after his brothers on legs he couldn't feel, new energy driving him forward.

-Michelangelo-

You weren't naive.

You knew he wouldn't be accepted by most of your family. You knew that a few individuals might even be dangerous to Mikey and his family.

But the key word was most.

The newest generations, relatives your age, were much more accepting of many things. Within reason.

With your boyfriends...predicament- it took some extra effort on your part to set up a meeting of some kind. A meeting in which both parties had nowhere to go but through the uncomfortable interaction. With no room for reactive actions. No access to immediate exits, phones, or weapons-

Good thing you were dating an actual angle.

Mikey could work a room so easily, it overwhelmed you. He had your siblings charmed within seconds; cracking wise while the first gawking and terrified reactions were water off his shell.

Now, your boyfriends social circle was that much bigger.

One thing led to another. Weeks went by, then months. It's how you two ended up here. You on your siblings couch curled up with a book. Chaos all around you.

"Aaand...boo!" Mikey leapt out from behind the doorway.

"AHHahah!" One of your neices squeeled and ran away, hands covering her face.

"C'mere, you." Mikey growled, his smile just as wide as he dramatically stomped after the four kids, his hands perfect T-rex claws. His shadow easily swallowing them as they hurried away.

"Mikey, you can't eat them!" Your nephew wasn't older than five, but he chased after the giant turtle man as they rounded the couch you were sitting on.

Mikey tackled your nephew to the ground expertly, the boy roaring in delight; getting tickled ferociously.

"Ahhh! Stopp!!" The boy was desperately trying to worm away from your boyfriend. "That hurts!"

Mikey let go, and the boy continued to giggle as he caught his breath, struggling to get up.

"Ya a'right?" Mikey smiled.

"AHHH!" One neice came out of nowhere, pouncing on Mikey's arm.

"Oh NOO!" Mikey cried as he fell expertly over, making the little girl laugh. Your nephew screamed in triumph, jumping on his shoulders.

The other two saw the action, and pounced.

"We gotchu!!"

"Oh no, oh no!!" Mikey whined, struggling carefully for their entertainment as the kids climbed on top of him. He went limp, a gross sound in his thoat.

The kids squeeled, tiny hands slapping him playfully. "We know you're not dead, Mikey!"

He didn't reply.

Your neice shook his shoulder. "My-ee?"

"RAH!" Mikey jolted awake, and they all screamed and scrambled away.

"Get back here!" He called.

The kids scrambled to another room, leaving you and your boyfriend facing each other where he was kneeling on the carpet.

"How are you doing?" Mikey asked, still smiling. He had glitter stickers all over him. And marker ink was all over his shoulder.

Your heart had swelled, closing your throat and misting your eyes. He looked good like this. Happy.

"I love you." You muttered.

Mikey jolted, his eyes blowing wide. "...W-what?"

"I love you." You repeated with a smile, voice breaking.

Mikey's jaw dropped, his hands lifting a little from his knees. "We're- I-I-I love you-"

"UNGUARDD!"

A pool noodle slapped Mikey's head from behind.

You laughed.

-Donatello-

"All done." You whispered.

"Thank you."

You didn't look at him, setting down the needle and blood-soaked fabric.

You and Donnie were sheltered in the lab. Curtain drawn. He sat maskless and blind in his chair. Hands clasped between his spread knees.

He'd been quiet. Avoiding your gaze.

You stared at what would be a new scar on his face. Down his cheek and neck. You mourned the marring of some turtle stripes under his jaw.

Blood was crusted between scales around your messy stitches; and you slowly got to work of gently dabbing it away. One hand on his other cheek to keep him still.

You couldn't handle it alone anymore. Hurt that had weld up in your chest suddenly surged. Your voice began working again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You whispered.

He didn't answer. But you felt a muscle clench under your fingers.

You bit your lip. Tears welling up at last.

Your proposal that fateful night hadn't been unique. At all. But the offer of another date night was ignored by him completely.

Ghosted. You had gone to April. Worried that something might have happened.

April's number apparently didn't exist anymore. Her face gone from her regular network. Nothing was said about it. As if you had made everything up.

You didn't have any other numbers. You didn't know where to find anyone. You'd begun to accept he had let you go. All of them. Suddenly. But they were gone, none the less.

You were not needed; and Donatello hadn't wanted you.

Then tonight, two hours ago; you'd received a mystery caller. Three times. Leo. Imploring. Needing more hands, because Donnie was down and out for the count. You had never heard the leaders voice like this.

Karai was now dead.

Everyone is home safe.

You felt tears finally spill down your cheeks. You pulled away, sniffing as you scrubbed harshly at your cheeks.

Donnie reacted to the sound as if shot.

"Y/N it wasn't -"

"You didn't tell me." You hissed. "That's all I need to know."

"It's not like that!" Donnie said urgently. "I couldn't -"

"I needed one text. N-not even that, just... something. Anything." You hissed. "I don't even ask for an explanation! Just saying it's unsafe to talk would have been more than enough. Y-you and I even have a safeword-!"

"I couldn't do that!" Donnie said. "They had tracked Splinter and April through our communications. My firewalls should have prevented the Foot from - I didn't - I didn't know, and I couldn't endanger another person I love the same way."

A person I love.

You gasped, chest heaving with built-up sobs. Physical pain struck you at his words. Shock. Denial. Two weeks. Nothing -

"You don't love me!" You choked. Insistant.

Donnie blinked, mouth dropping slightly open as he stared at you wide-eyed.

He took in a shaky breath. "Yes, I do."

You sobbed, squeezing your eyes shut as you scrubbed some tears away. "No, you don't, c'mon." It was the weakest you've ever sounded.

Donnie's hands snagged your elbows. Pulling you to face him so his hands could rest on either side of your head.

"You were in danger." His voice shook. "You were in so much danger - and I'd rather you think I left or was gone than ever - ever, see you hurt. Especially because I was too fucking s-stupid to protect you or my family."

You were silent. Staring at him like he was the last thing left alive.

He bit his lip, wet eyes sparkling with the most conviction you'd ever seen. "I love you so much. You're the best thing to ever happen to me, and I promised myself I would keep you safe, no matter what. If...If I could redo all of this, I wouldn't change anything." His voice broke. "It'll be different from now on, but...the thought of you somewhere out there hating me is better than the thought of you...not being here at all."

You hiccuped, face wet with renewed tears as you pushed forward. Kissing him.

-Leonardo-

Leo hadn't liked you at first. At all, really. Comes with the territory, you thought. You didn't blame him.

The trust built slowly every month. Half a year went by before you could easily call him your friend, and you were good friends.

The problem was that you had started crushing on him. Hard.

One night, Leo had stopped you; rain pouring down as he - very awkwardly...asking you out.

You could tell that he had been terrified. It made your smile that much wider. Because you were terrified too. Over the moon. Finally.

You later found out the guy had actually the corniest, cutest list of dates he had been hoping to take you on. All written in a neat, dorky list in one of his notebooks. When you confronted him - he couldn't meet your eyes he had been so embarrassed.

Leo had been the one to ask if he could kiss you.

You had fallen in love. Not quickly. But you had admitted to yourself - looking up into those pretty blue eyes - that you were crazy in love.

And yet...

Leo still hadn't taken off his mask.

You asked once. "Am I ever going to see you without it?"

"Hell no." He huffed at you while he set your house plant back down.

"Scared I might find out you're a turtle?" You scoffed. "I have some crazy news."

"Nice try, but that kind of show-" Leo reached above you to grab a cup, then pointed it at your smug grin. "Isn't for free. VIP only."

"I'm not a VIP girlfriend?" You were outraged.

The curiosity was always there. But you didn't push. You knew it would happen eventually.

That moment came a week later. When you ran your nails across his scalp.

You quickly did it a second time after his tiny noise of happy surprise. A gentle scratch. Only slight pressure to the green skin.

"What're you doing back there?" Leo twisted, peering up at you from where he sat on the floor infront of you.

You kept at it. Smiling as you switched between scratching and petting his scalp, adding a second hand. "Just touching you. That okay?"

Leo's eyes fluttered before he turned back to the TV. His shell between your knees.

As time passed, Leo's head lowered. His neck weakening. He obviously wasn't watching anymore.

"You okay?" You giggled quietly.

"Mm."

"C'mere." You pat your lap. "Turn around."

Leo did. He paused, facing you. You stared back, smiling before pressing a hard loud kiss to the side of his snout. Pushing his head slightly with its force, making him smile and laugh.

God, you loved that laugh.

Your hands opened and closed dramatically over his form as he slumped his head into your lap, curling up close. You nearly giggled at how large his head was as he rested his cheek on a thigh.

There was one problem....

"Hey," you whispered. "May I move the mask?"

Leo froze.

"I can work with it." You quickly said, cringing. "You're okay."

"No," Leo said. "No, it's okay. Hang on."

Your heart leapt into your throat in surprise. But you bit your lip. You didn't want to scare him as he sat up and used one hand to loosen the knot.

Leo pulled it off swiftly. Never looking at you.

You stared.

You had convinced yourself it wouldn't be a huge deal seeing his face. It was a small mask. How much could it really hide?

Apparently, a lot. You felt your brain adjust to the ridiculous fact that it had been unprepared to have so much green to look at.

Leo moved to lean back down. You stopped him. That's when he looked at you.

Leo's eyes hadn't changed a bit. You realized that they looked even more gorgeous like this.

You're heart squeezed.

You'd been dying to tell him. Now more than ever.

"Hi." You whispered, smiling and petting his cheeks.

"C'mon," Leo winced. "It's not..."

"Tell me it at least feels better off..." the backs of your fingers pet down his cheeks before you pushed your nails along each side of his head. Across his temples and then along his scalp again. "It sure looks better off."

His eyes rolled closed. He pushed further into the contact, a pretty groan slipping out.

He stayed there. Leaned a little bit forward as he sat on the floor. His head being pet and scratched from where you sat in front of him on the couch. You pressed a few kisses across brow and nose when you felt his weight going lax once more.

Then holding his jaw, you pressed your lips firmly against his forehead.

Leo signed.

This was it. Time to tell him. You took a deep breath.

"I love you." Leo whispered.

[starberry-cupcake]

Alrighty, here we are again

previously, in harrowcita the ninth:

this happened

currently, after ch. 2 (once again, I wanted to read more but realized these notes were too long):

first off, I need to point out something very important

reading the first part of gideon, this was how the dynamic of her and harrow felt like, from gideon's pv in the first chapter or two

this is what it actually was like, now that I have harrow's pv

so, now that we've cleared that up, let me tell you about the emperor

I don't know about this guy

something's not adding up for me

I feel like he's either lying, telling half-truths that benefit him or he doesn't know what he's doing

and none of those options are very god-tier

he's also constantly going like "harrow, I'm gonna let you choose" and five minutes later he's "oh, actually, you never had a choice to begin with, I'm so sorry about that"

I don't think you're sorry if you've done it like 3 times since we've met you

maybe say what you actually mean, unless you're full of lies

he takes harrow on a walk through the clown death star ship he's got going on

and takes her to his coffin hangar

shows her coffins of the people he made to send to the ninth

the new ninth people

aiglamene is gonna have to work overtime

(I can't believe I've never forgotten her name)

and then there's coffins for all the little friends we made in canaan house

:) ♥

except there are a bunch missing people

let me just note the info we got

the second says "no human remains inside"

last we saw them, martita was KO and judith was bleeding to death

nobody from the third as well, and we already have suspicions about wtf is happening with these parsley and cilantro twins

from the sixth, one is empty because CAMILLA ISN'T DEAD GODDAMMIT

the other one has little pieces of palmolive in it

me picking up the pieces of palmolive from the decor of canaan house

there is one coffin for not!dulcinea

the emperor guy says he's taking her with the other lyctors

as long as he flushes afterwards, it's fine

we are, by the way, trying very hard to not mention gideon ever, apparently

just wanna point out real quick that THERE'S A LOT OF PEOPLE UNACCOUNTED FOR and this guy is GOD so he's doing a terrible job

or he's not saying all he knows

or both

all this time, ice cube barbie is tagging along

ice cube barbie is harrow's babadook, which I stan tbh

since she's here to stay, let me show you another pic of that doll because it's my favorite from the haunted beauty collection

so, the emperor starts telling harrow what they're fighting against (or escaping from) and where they came from

this man explains what he wants and leaves out what he wants

at one point, when harrow asks something like "how will you explain all the dead people?" he goes like

he asks harrow about death and the process of it and she says, at one point:

"In cases of apopneumatic shock, where death is sudden and violent, the energy burst can be sufficient to countermand osmotic pressure and leave the soul temporarily isolated. Whence we gain the ghost, and the revenant."

this is important for the later conversation about revenant beasts, which are the things that the emperor is having trouble with

but I highlighted it because I am adding it to my notes of "reasons why gideon could be not dead forever"

I am holding on to all the hope I can get

because if sudden violent death can leave the soul temporarily isolated and not do the due process of transitioning to the river or whatnot

and gideon isn't within harrow or whatever

maybe

maybe she's somewhere else

I don't know, let me have this, don't tell me anything, just

LET ME HAVE THIS

so yeah, basically the story is that the emperor is running away from nine revenant beasts, which were created during the resurrection, when a planet was blasted off

nine beasts like nine houses

there's three left now

I don't know about all of this, you guys

I don't have enough context and I don't trust this guy here

how do I know where we stand in all this?

what if he's not the good guy and what he did was some planetary bullshit to begin with?

what if the other side is the good guys?

what if he's killed by one of our heroes? like harrow or gideon or camilla?

because he's actually a false god jerk?

what if I kill him????

and then we have two last important things

first, barbie ice cube speaks now

love that for her

then, very crucial

the non-gideon mentioning seems to be a Thing

I don't know if I'm understanding correctly but

the emperor mentions ortus

ortus, the one we knew, our old pal from the ninth

and I got the feeling, idk if I got it, that he just assumed ortus was the cavalier she had with her

because 1) he didn't go down there and 2) no body was recovered

and then harrow also mentions ortus, but she says he "died thinking it was the only gift he was capable of giving" and that she "wasted it" and idk if she did that because she's blocking sad memories, she's confused because she's Not Doing Great Mentally Right Now, she doesn't wanna tell the emperor what actually happened, or all three

there's stuff about ortus I don't know, but that sounds to me more like what gideon said than what ortus "Got Blown To Bits With Mom In Ship" did

and then the emperor says his name again with suspicion and I'm like

I think this clown doesn't know

I think he doesn't know about gideon

I think he doesn't know about gideon or who gideon actually is

which we don't know yet either but it's probably important

because she's hercules, as previously established

I think maybe gideon is an outlier

an important planetary outlier

I have hopes

also, another day without camilla

god (not this one) I hope I can make shorter recaps but there's so much happening, I'm so sorry

[thelargefrye]

CALMING DAYS … drabble

pairing : poly!ateez x f!reader

genre : non-idol au, fluff, late birthday, new relationship

warnings : language, yn is sick, mentions of throwing up, not being able to fully sleep, mentions of food

you miss yunho’s birthday because you got sick, but surprisingly you don’t have to nurse yourself back to health alone.

you felt like shit. your whole body was exhausted but no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t rest. it was like everytime you closed your eyes, you would just immediately wake up — unfortunately it was always to throw up, but thankfully that stopped a few hours ago.

but of course you had to get sick when something important was happening. i.e yunho’s birthday. you were mad at yourself for getting sick and having to tell your boyfriends — it felt weird calling them that — that you would be unable to make it.

“are you okay?” yeosang’s voice is full of concern as you speak to him over the phone. you honestly had to will yourself to even open your eyes, your energy nonexistent even if it was just to make a phone call.

“i’m just a little sick right now. stomach bug, nothing to worry about,” you tell him as you try not to fall asleep, his voice doing wonders in lulling you back slowly into dreamland.

“i’m sorry you feel bad baby, do you want me to stop by later?”

you don’t have enough energy to answer, only letting out a small hum in response. you really wanted to tell him no, don’t come over but you’re not entirely sure if he got the message or not.

“tell yunho… i said happy birthday and… sorry,” you say still drifting off. you hear yeosang let out a small chuckle and the sound sounds nice to hear and you almost ask him to do it again.

“i will baby, you just rest and i’ll see you later, okay?”

“hmm, okay,” you say before pulling the phone away and hanging up. you toss the phone to the side before rolling over and allowing sleep to welcome you once more.

when you wake up, you’re welcomed to the sight of yunho sitting at the edge of your bed. his hand rest gently against your forehead, feeling your fever you can only assume.

“yunho… what are you doing… here?” you’re a little surprised to see him and despite him touching you, you still wonder if he’s real or not.

“we came to check to on you. your roommate let us in,” he says and his words immediately catch your attention.

“we?” you ask tilting your head as you allow yunho’s hand to trail down to cup your cheek.

“the others felt bad and so we all wanted to come check up on you. wooyoung and seonghwa made some soup for you,” he explains and you feel guilty. today is yunho’s special day and here they all are taking care of you.

“you guys shouldn’t be here,” you say, a small pout on your lips and yunho simply chuckles at you.

“of course we should, you’re apart of this relationship now too, y/n,” yunho says with a smile. “and if you’re worried about this because it’s my birthday, then don’t. because i wanted us to come and check on you and see you.”

you were about to say something when your bedroom door burst open and enters your other seven boyfriends. wooyoung leading the pack with a tray of food in his hands.

“we made you food, y/n! so hurry up and get better,” he says as he comes to set it in front of you.

“woo, be easy, she’s still recovering,” seonghwa scolds as they all carefully gather around your bed. it makes you feel weird to have all their eyes on you and you look to meet yunho’s eyes as he looks at you with soft eyes.

“eat up, jagi, and then you can rest a little more,” san tells you as he pats your leg from above the covers. you nod, but still feel a little nervous at having all their attention on you. thankfully yunho is quick to catch on.

“ah, hey let’s give y/n some space while she eats,” yunho says standing up from your bed and sending you a smile as he ushers the other out of your room and into the living room.

“hey, yunho,” you say catching his attention right before he steps out of your room, “happy birthday.”

“thank you, jagi. let us know if you need anything.”

[worriedvision]

Flowery tea - Wriothesley

Gender neutral reader, hanahaki fic because I'm a sucker for those. Readers basically from Liyue, but has started working alongside Wriothesley in terms of monitoring finances. Unhappy ending here.

--

"Sir, would you like some tea?" You ask him, knowing full well he will respond positively.

"Of course. Any time is a good time for tea." Wriothesley chuckles, sending your heart racing.

Truth be told, you had been visiting Liyue more often to get the latest types of tea, in the hopes of gifting them to your boss. As embarrassing as it was, you gushed to Zhongli - someone you got to be friends with - about Wriothesley. How he talked, how he treated those around him, the general attraction you felt for him. Zhongli teased you about travelling to Liyue to treat Wriothesley, but understanding Wriothesley was important to you.

"Wow, this tea has an...interesting taste." Wriothesley hums, taking another sip before continuing. "The aftertaste is nice, but the initial taste is strong."

"A friend of mine in Liyue recommended it." You explain, rubbing the back of your head.

Before Wriothesley responds, Chlorinde walks in.

"Oh, Chlorinde! Perfect timing, you have got to try this!" Wriothesley suddenly has a burst of energy, resembling a husky when talking to her. "C'mon, try it for me!"

"... I'm here for work." Chlorinde sighs. "...but I'll do it for you."

"Aww, thank you! I love you!" Wriothesley teases, Chlorinde wincing at his responses.

You, however, feel poorly after hearing that. Specifically, you feel like something is growing in your lungs. You go to excuse yourself, only to see the full in front of you animatedly talking. Not wanting to inconvenience them, you head to the head nurse for a check up.

"I can sense an anomaly in your chest, dear one! Unfortunately, this is a foreign item, and I don't understand how it's gotten there." Sigewinne states. "I'm sorry, but I haven't seen anything like this."

"It's alright, thank you for checking this for me." You smile, the feeling in your chest feeling worse by the second. Hunching over in pain, you startle Sigewinne before passing out.

--

You were not waking up.

That worried Wriothesley, so he decides to contact your friend to request he comes to see you before you, possibly, die.

Surprisingly, Zhongli showed up a few days later with the invitation letter in hand. Upon arrival, he was escorted to where you were, the head nurse explaining your condition.

"A foreign item, you say?" Zhongli hums out. "And there was a sign of growth? Did you perhaps sense some sort of...flora energy?"

"Yes! How did you know?" Sigewinne gasps, Zhongli closing his eyes in thought.

"This is a case of Hanahaki disease. My friend has feelings for someone, and they must have realised they do not return the sentiment."

"Oh...that is such a cruel condition."

"There is a cure. At this point, there is only one form of treatment that will help." Zhongli explains. "This will lead to the love in question being not only forgotten, but the chance of love being formed with them as well."

"Well what are we waiting for? Let's do it!" Sigewinne jumps, Zhongli opting to do this.

He would have a word with Wriothesley once the surgery is complete. For now, his top priority was removing the foreign item in your lungs. Your life was more important than your boss's opinion in his eyes.

--

"Come again?" Wriothesley tilts his head, taken back by Zhonglis words. What did he mean, '_ will not remember you'.

"The condition was caused by you. I know feelings cannot be helped, and you cannot be forced to reciprocate, however this surgery will lead to them forgetting everything about you." Zhongli explains calmly. "In addition to this, they will no longer be able to form a romantic bond with you."

"But they'll be alive and well?" Wriothesley asks, Zhongli nodding. "Then that is fine. It is unfortunate that I don't think of them that way."

"Thank you for understanding." Zhongli smiles, before getting up to leave.

"Hold on." Wriothesley stops Zhongli, getting up. "would you like a cup of tea?"

--

In the months of working with Wriothesley after the surgery, you couldn't help but feel out of place.

Wriothesley seemed disappointed that you forgot everything about him - including the fact he was your boss. Even after the clearing up of misinformation, you still didn't act friendly with him. You no longer had a personal relationship with him, keeping things professional.

During an argument you initiated after Wriothesley had yet again asked you to relax around him, he said something he regretted after you left his office.

"If I knew I was going to lose you because of feelings, I would have pretended to love you." Wriothesley grunts, your eyes widening in shock at the statement.

"So I was just a form of tea collection for you, huh? Fine, I quit." You storm out, Wriothesley calling for you to come back so you could get past the past. Unfortunately, he was the one who needed to move on.

You already had.

[maximwtf]

“Forsaken talents.”

Kaveh x Reader

Words: 1770

Google Docs Pages: 3

Warnings: Established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, a little corny idk leave me alone

Opening: Turns out your position in one of the biggest commissions you’d gotten wasn’t secured, and someone else got it instead of you. But thankfully you live with an artist who knows how it feels. 

AN// G/N reader. Not sure if I wanna start writing for Kaveh more, but let’s test the waters with this and see where it goes :”D Yuhh, also last of my "left these in docs to rot" fics, finished at last. I shall now disappear once more. Opening requests again too c:

“Forsaken talents.”

You were on the way back from an important meeting, it having lasted for hours. Or so it had felt while stressing how it would go. You’d been attempting to secure a spot in a commission that could have very well been considered the biggest one you’d been seen for. Having obviously been excited, yet scared. Telling all of this to Kaveh the night before, though hiding most of the fright you’d been dealing with concerning the final meeting. This would have been a huge step forwards in your career, only if it had gone according to plan. 

The company had already found someone more fitting to their idea, and due to that turned you down. Making you leave the building with mixed feelings. On top of all, upset. 

So you were on your way back home, defeated as ever. Feeling bad about having hyped up this possibility earlier, and having it end up like this. Not feeling so thrilled anymore. In truth, you didn’t even have the motivation to explain this all to Kaveh, when he’d ultimately ask how the meeting had gone. Because not only would you bring down the mood, but also have to relive the events of that day again. Somehow, the singular meeting had drained all energy out of you. 

As slowly as you had tried to walk, an all too familiar door was at last standing in front of you. For once, not bringing a feeling of comfort. But unease, knowing what laid behind it. The conversation you most likely had to go through or at the very least try to avoid.

Drawing in a breath, you mentally prepared for what had kept you on edge the whole way. Trying to stay strong enough to not just burst into tears at the very sight of Kaveh. Thinking of suggesting talking about the result of the meeting later that day. You had planned a lunch date with him way before this, not really wishing to be the one to bring down the mood just before it. That would most likely ruin the whole mood, adding on to the pile of thoughts already swarming your mind. 

Either way, if he asked anything about the meeting you could merely suggest hurrying to the restaurant. Hinting at the time, not having enough to discuss the meeting. 

Nodding to yourself before exhaling and opening the door slowly, stepping through the threshold. Hoping you could pull this off without ruining the mood. Or even worse, making him worry. 

You walked in, eyes spotting Kaveh on one of the couches. Hunched over, eyes keenly looking over something from a notebook. Clearly rather deep in thought with a new project. Seemingly working endlessly, which had been one of the reasons you’d agreed to going on the date with him. To get him to clear his mind for a moment before he’d ultimately go back to working on whatever he had undone. Seemingly there being an endless amount, not that it hadn’t been the same for you at certain points. 

After a brief moment you walked up to him, greeting him with an awkward sense of joy. “Which project is this?” You asked right after, eyeing the sketches and notes in front of him. But Kaveh didn’t seem interested in answering, sensing something wasn’t quite right. His gaze moved up to you, “is everything alright?” He asked, a curious but gentle look on his face. But to which you replied by shaking your head, “nothing serious, I promise. Just something bugging me about the meeting.” Trying to dodge the question to the best of your efforts, passing the topic on. But that hadn’t seemed to do the trick, seeing as he’d taken a light hold of your hands. Only now noticing how they’d been fidgeting, the contact with him making it stop. “Come on, you know that didn't sound convincing at all. I can tell when something's bugging you. Spill it.” He asked, looking up at you. Feeling awful about pushing him away gently before placing your folder on the table. Swearing in your mind you’d felt his eyes follow you, clearly confused and a little irritated with how little you were letting him know. 

Needing the moment to end, you turned to him again. “Could we go have lunch first? It’s not that big of a deal, you know how some clients get… And if I explain the events of a multi hour meeting now…I doubt we’ll make it to our reservation, no?” You said, cringing a little at the excuse. But it seemed to have worked. Making Kaveh go quiet for a moment, clearly contemplating if that was the right course of action. But at the end giving in, accepting the suggestion. 

Joining you a little hesitantly, clearly something on his mind now as well. “What?” You questioned, seeing him frown before sighing. “But you’ll tell me when we get back?” He asked, looking rather hopeful up until you sighed. “Please, I just don’t want the plans I suggested force you to leave if you’re not feeling up for it.” He added, walking behind you to the door.

Giving him another firm head shake you opened the front door. The fresh air feeling a lot easier to breathe than the one inside. “We’ll see about that after…come on.” You reached for his hand, not wanting to dwell on this for any longer. 

Throughout the lunch Kaveh kept exchanging looks with you, making it quite clear to you that he was eager to hear what had happened. And you couldn’t lie, you didn’t enjoy yourself as much as you would have hoped. The events of that day playing at the back of your mind. Making you chat with him less than you usually did. And each time you did reply to him it was almost awkwardly visible you didn’t wish to be out in public.  Not making it hard for him to be well aware the meeting hadn’t gone well, able to guess the outcome. 

Arriving back home, you barely had time to settle when he asked again. “Come on, are you feeling alright? And if you’re not, that’s okay, but tell me.” Kaveh almost whined, bothered by not being able to do anything to help. Seeing an opportunity to for once be able to help you in return for all the care you’d provided for him. “Like you said, I know how some clients can get,” he chuckled after. Waiting for you to respond for a moment, but seeing as you stayed silent, he continued. “So maybe this time I could help you, hm?” The offer clearly loaded with the expectation that you’d finally spill what had happened. 

You bit your lower lip, weighing our options. Soon enough, a sigh escaped as your shoulders dropped. A burning feeling at the back of your eyes as your guard was slowly shattering in real time. Finding it hard to recollect yourself by that point, merely staring right back at him as the first few tears welled up. Sniffling for a moment until you ultimately saw it best to walk up to him before breaking down any further. To which he responded, wrapping his arms around you before the more broken sobs escaped. 

You allowed yourself to cry against him for a moment, slowly starting to explain. “They let me present what I had planned…A-and…” You sniffled, raising your chin to his shoulder. “By the end of the meeting…they told me based on today, they…they had someone more suited for the work.” You sobbed out the truth, pent up frustration shown in a rather raw form. But it felt right, the meeting having left you feeling rather worthless. 

Kaveh cupped the back of your head, feeling your hands gently grip the front of his shirt. Desperately wishing to fix this. "You know how talented you are, right..? Their decision doesn’t show the worth of your skills and time. And..there’s other clients out there who’ll respect you way more.” He explained, guiding you to look at him for a moment. “Plus, maybe it’s good they dropped you. If they couldn’t even see the genius you are.” Kaveh tried to smile carefully, attempting to bring the mood up a little. 

You sniffled, freeing one of your hands to wipe some of the tears away. “I know…but I was almost certain the spot was locked. But then it got cancelled..just like that?” You shrugged, an upset frown forming on your face. Feeling Kaveh gently ruffle your hair, though seemingly making sure he didn’t mess it up. “Hell, I bet they’ll regret letting you go soon enough? And I’ll laugh when they’ll come back begging for you to work with them again, hm?” He said, smiling at the small laugh you let out through the sniffles. Biting his cheek when you leaned in to press a few kisses along his jawline. “We can laugh at them together.” You said, feeling a little better after telling everything to him. 

Kaveh smiled at the statement, pulling you back against him, pleased to see the mood get better. Prepared to rub it in their face if the company came back, but not daring to say it out loud. Assuming you had thought he had been joking, keeping his actual plan a secret for now. 

So instead he let his hand caress the back of your neck, placing a kiss to the top of your head before releasing you from the embrace. 

You lifted your head up a little to see him while wiping your eyes. A faint red on your cheeks and eyes, sniffling before speaking up again. “Thank you,” you whispered in a voice filled with emotion. Grateful he’d been so willing to help the whole time, even when you’d effectively pushed him away multiple times. “You have so many things on your shoulders too, you didn’t have to.” Which was true in your opinion. You’d seen how hard he worked and yet, he was so willing to drop it all earlier to speak to you. Knowing he was always prepared to do that for anyone he cared about, which never failed to amaze you. 

Kaveh smiled while looking down at you, hands still gently at your hips. Barely holding on. “No need to thank me, really. You’ve helped me… What? About a dozen times in the past. I owe you if anything.” He chuckled, tilting his head. “And even if I didn’t…what kind of a person would I be if I let you sit this over alone, hm?” He hummed, joyed to see a familiar smile back on your face once more. 

[bloody-bee-tea]

June of (minimal) Doom 2024 Day 6 - They don't care about you

Satoru feels Suguru’s cursed energy spike, going wobbly and all out of whack and he knows that something is seriously wrong. So wrong that he simply acts on instinct instead of thinking it through and between one blink and the next he finds himself right next to Suguru, in a small village, in a house with two crying kids and two screaming adults.

Fun.

“Satoru?” Suguru gasps out, apparently busy trying to keep a tight leash on his curses and Satoru stumbles.

Long distance teleportation really is a bitch.

“Suguru,” Satoru breathes out and grabs his arm, trying to steady himself. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s—why would you ask me that? You’re barging in here, making me think something is wrong,” Suguru gives right back, his voice shaking the tiniest bit and carefully angles himself in front of the kids as if he has to protect them from Satoru.

It only adds to the strangeness of this situation.

“Your energy—it’s not right. What’s going on?” Satoru says, hoping that it explains enough and that Suguru is not going to ask why he always keeps a close eye on his energy in the first place but Suguru doesn’t seem to care too much about that.

Something cruel passes over his face, almost turning it into a sneer and Satoru flinches back.

“Nothing is right, Satoru; don’t you see?” he hisses, pointing at the kids and the adults, some of Suguru’s curses still trying to escape his control and Satoru doesn’t really understand what’s going on at all.

“I see something going wrong,” he carefully admits because the kids look beaten and they are locked up in a cage but it doesn’t give him the bigger picture.

It doesn’t explain Suguru’s behaviour.

“Don’t you dare judge me,” Suguru bites out and that is so far from what Satoru was going to do that he doesn’t even understand where Suguru got that from.

But it seems they are not at all on the same page of this conversation and so Satoru takes a deep breath.

“Tell me what’s going on here. Explain it to me,” he says, taking a step back and giving Suguru space to breathe because he seems decidedly unwell.

Suguru takes a measured breath and then a second and third and then it all just comes tumbling out of him; not only what’s going on here, right now, but also everything that has been going on with him since they lost Riko. He speaks so fast he stumbles over his words more than once and with everything he says Satoru feels more and more sick.

He has missed so much. He thought he knew Suguru best, was tuned in to him but he has missed all of this turmoil and agony and Satoru hates himself a little bit for it.

Those thoughts are almost enough to drown out what Suguru is saying but Satoru forces himself to pay attention.

Suguru is opening up to him; he needs to listen, for once.

Suguru is talking about what Yuki said to him, what she entertained as a valid idea and while Satoru sees the merit of that thought, it’s also impossible for more than one reason.

“—and I’m going to burn it all down, starting with this village!” Suguru yells out at the end, breathing harshly and Satoru steps forward, tightly gripping Suguru’s arm.

“You’re not going to do that,” Satoru tells him, because if Suguru does any of that then that means he can never come back home and Satoru can’t have that.

And besides—

“It’s not going to work, Suguru,” Satoru tells him, because it’s not.

“Oh, right, of course you’d say that,” Suguru bitterly says and scoffs. “I’m not strong enough, right? Is that it?”

“That’s not it at all, Suguru, let me explain,” Satoru bursts out because how dare Suguru think that he’s not as strong as Satoru. “It’s not a good way to go about this. You want to take those girls with you, yeah? And then kill every non-sorcerer so that no curses can be born again?” he sums up Suguru’s big talk and only goes on when Suguru nods. “So you want to make breeding machines out of the girls?” Satoru asks then, deliberately blunt and cruel and Suguru flinches.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Where do you think new sorcerers are going to come from when you kill off every human? You’d need to breed new ones and who is going to do that? It’s not as if the pool is going to be very big, especially not at first. That would mean those girls there? They’d have to have at least a couple of kids each.”

“Satoru,” Suguru says, clearly appalled by what Satoru says.

“No, listen to me. Listen, Suguru,” Satoru implores him because there’s a better way to go about this. It might just take just as long as what Suguru is currently entertaining but it wouldn’t take Suguru from his side. “Some sorcerer parents birth normal humans. What are you going to do if that happens to them?” He nods towards the girls. “Are you going to take their kids and kill them, too? And you know better than anyone that sorcerers can be born to non-sorcerer parents. It happens like that more often than not, outside of the big Clans. You’re going to slow down our growth like that!”

“Then what would you have me do?” Suguru screams right in his face and Satoru thinks he prefers this anger over whatever manic energy was driving him before.

Satoru takes a few deep breaths before he lays out his own plan. He didn’t think to share it yet, wasn’t sure if Suguru would be on board and so he kept quiet about it but Satoru now sees where he went wrong.

He should have told Suguru from the very start, to let him know that he wasn’t alone, that the system is fucked all the way up and that Satoru intended to change things.

Maybe it would have helped with Suguru’s agony.

“The higher-ups—”

“Gods, Satoru, give me a break,” Suguru interrupts him, not even letting him finish his first sentence. “They don’t care about you. They are not going to listen.”

“—need to go,” Satoru goes on as if Suguru hadn’t just interrupted him.

He gives him a mean smile when Suguru gapes at him.

“What? You think I don’t know that they don’t care? I know it better than anyone, Suguru. The higher-ups, the clans—they are all rotten down to the core. They don’t see the person. They just see what you can do for them. They see me as the bearer of the Six Eyes, as the one who inherited both techniques. My family very rarely sees me as a Gojo and even that only because it allows them to boast with the fact that I am one of them. No one there has ever seen me as Satoru, has seen me as human. And they are not going to start any time soon; not with me and certainly not with anyone else.”

“So what? You want to kill them?” Suguru sneers out, clearly not believing that Satoru could go down that path.

“Yes,” Satoru simply says and holds Suguru’s gaze. “They have to go. The higher-ups at least. The Clans we’d have to see. Some of the younger members might be open to our cause, that needs to be checked out first. But the older ones? They all have to go.”

“It would wage war,” Suguru says and Satoru shrugs.

“We just have to time it right. I’m not saying we do it right now. It will take some time still. We have to see who would support us, which older sorcerers would be on our side. We can’t build it all up from scratch, we need experienced people.”

“And the school?” Suguru asks and Satoru is glad to see that he at least seems to have some sort of attachment to it.

“It has to stay,” Satoru gives back. “We need it for training, for education. But things have to change there, too.”

“The grading system of curses,” Suguru slowly says, clearly getting into the idea now as well and Satoru breathes a little bit easier to see him lose some of that manic energy, turning it into something more productive, the cogs in his brain starting to turn.

“It’s dog-shit,” Satoru agrees and sees the corner of Suguru’s mouth twitch. “I mean, come on, how many Grade 2 curses or lower have you been sent after this month?”

“Too many,” Suguru agrees, because of course.

Sometimes Satoru wonders if the higher-ups are misgrading the curses on purpose but he can’t figure out why they would do that.

“It’s not acceptable that we’re being sent after curses everyone else can handle while—” Satoru briefly stumbles over the name and he sees Suguru flinch, too “—Haibara has to go up against a local deity. It’s not right and there has to be a more accurate way to grade them. Or missions should only ever be carried out in teams, one lower grade sorcerer and one higher grade. There have to be ways to prevent these stupid useless losses.”

“Teaming up sounds like a good idea; it would mitigate any potential misgrading and it would allow them to get away if things go to shit,” Suguru nods, now clearly completely focused on what Satoru is saying.

Satoru wants to weep with how relieved he is, but he has to make sure that he’s not going to lose Suguru again.

“And we need a more reliable way to find sorcerers born to non-sorcerers,” Suguru says, already skipping ahead to Satoru’s next point.

He’s going to point out just how alike they think with glee later, because right now he’s too scared to interrupt Suguru and make him spiral again.

“There either has to be a way to detect them somehow or we have to subtly let the public know about curses so that kids who can see them don’t feel ashamed or scared and know where to go.”

Satoru winces when Suguru raises an eyebrow at him.

“It’s a work in progress, shut up. I wasn’t ready to talk about any of this yet,” Satoru defends himself and Suguru’s face softens the slightest bit.

“Then why did you?” he wants to know and Satoru blinks incredulously at him, as if the answer isn’t entirely obvious.

“Because I was losing you,” he plainly gives back. “I should have known you weren’t happy with the system either, but I didn’t expect you to go down such a different path. And I can’t lose you, ever,” he states, because he can’t.

Despite everything, Suguru is the only one who has ever seen him as human, who has ever been his friend, his partner, his everything, and there is no way in hell Satoru is going to let him go down a path that would separate them.

“I wasn’t—” Suguru starts as if he didn’t plan to level this entire village to the ground just mere minutes ago and he bites his tongue, clearly noticing his slip up when his eyes fall on the cowered humans in the corner. “Okay, yeah, I was,” he breathes out and slumps where he stands.

Satoru allows himself to step forward, so Suguru can rest against him, his head heavy on Satoru’s shoulder.

“The girls are sorcerers, I gather?” Satoru whispers, reaching up to scratch at Suguru’s neck and he hums when Suguru nods. “Case in point, then. We fucking need a better way to find them,” Satoru hisses out, his eyes sliding over to the silently crying kids.

“Suguru, we have to get them out of here.”

While Satoru is looking at the kids, Suguru is looking at the adults, Satoru can tell. There’s a hatred rolling off him that he isn’t used to and in all honesty, Satoru isn’t sure he wants to stop Suguru from what he’s going to say next.

“These two—I can’t let them go,” Suguru mutters, confessing it to Satoru as if this is his gravest sin and Satoru huffs out a laugh because he couldn’t care less about these two.

They don’t matter in the grand scheme of things and non-sorcerers die all the time during their fights with curses.

“A second curse, attacking us while we’re trying to get the kids to safety is not out of the realm of possibility,” Satoru carelessly says. “And who knows what we have to do to protect the girls, right?”

It’s a peace offering as much as everything else Satoru has said today; he hopes he can make Suguru understand his own rage, his own feeling of helplessness in face of the rules of the higher-ups and he knows Suguru understands when he turns his head, buries it into Satoru’s throat.

“You don’t mind?”

Now that really makes Satoru laugh.

“Suguru, might I remind you that I was this close to slaughtering many more people than these measly two and that I only didn’t do it because you said no? I would not have hesitated had you even so much as faltered in your answer,” Satoru honestly replies, because it’s nothing but the truth.

He wouldn’t have held back and he wouldn’t have felt bad about it, either.

Just like Suguru won’t feel bad about these two.

“So, not everyone but—some?” Suguru asks and Satoru sighs.

“Suguru, did you not listen? I said the higher-ups and most of the Clan members have to go. Where do you think they are supposed to go? A happy little island? I intend to send them straight to hell, so please. I’m not going to lose any sleep over those two over there. Are you?”

“Hell no,” Suguru decides and Satoru briefly feels cold when Suguru pulls away, but that feeling is quickly chased away when Suguru leans in to press a kiss to the corner of Satoru’s mouth. “Thank you,” he breathes out just as he lets out one of his curses who swallows the non-sorcerers whole.

“You always clean up so nicely after yourself,” Satoru notes as he moves over to the cage and breaks the lock.

“Gonna keep the fussing to a minimum,” Suguru says as he comes after Satoru, briefly carding his fingers through his hair before he crouches down to meet the girls. “You’re going to come with us, is that alright?” he softly asks and Satoru could weep because this is the Suguru he knows now.

He can’t help himself, he just as to lean in and press a kiss to Suguru’s cheek because mere minutes ago he was certain he’d lose Suguru and now they are finally on the same page. About more than one thing it seems, judging by the sly smile Suguru throws him but for now Satoru decides to concentrate on the girls.

They need medical attention and most of all they need to get out of the cage and out of this village.

And Suguru and Satoru will make sure that they have a better future before them.

[ginsengkitten]

༺ Beautiful Dangerous ༻

༺☆༻

Chapter Twelve

A New Life

"Y/N Monologue"

"If I knew the way the world was, what it would really be like- once I left that hospital and walked out into that rainy night in the west parking lot to meet the mystery writer who came to my rescue, had I known, I don't know if I really would have left so quickly.”

-

That night, a plain clothed Sister Graham had come to your rescue. In a heartbeat, you jumped in and the two of you took off. It was a thrill to the both of you, to leave that place. She had explained how she was forcefully retired due to her lack of “passion”. She explained that she would like to go see her sister back west and thought to smuggle you along with her. The two of you prowling the states in her shotty volvo. It was until one night in a motel that the plans had suddenly made a drastic change.

-

You lied on the sheets of the creaky floral bed, the half busted television illuminating the dark motel room. The Saturday night MTV broadcast was running as usual, it had been months since you last watched television. Hoping to catch something of substance before hitting the road again in the early morning. It was around 9pm when a familiar tune echoed out from the Tv that made your ears perk up. Words for a music video titling on the screen. It was a playback recording of a Guns n Roses concert from the week prior! You grappled your way to the edge of the bed, face at full attention to the screen now. Wow this is them just a week ago performing at a venue in LA. This performance began and seemed almost more polished than the ones you were used to. It became apparent that some sort of creative direction was being applied here. Pyrotechnics burst out behind the band. Carefully curated recording angles for dramatic effect- and - a plethora of scantily clad women sprinkled along the stage itself. Intertwining their bodies with the band and the rhythm. It seemed so….strange. Your fight for a glimpse of Slash was apprehended with a sour sight that suddenly turned your blood cold but your face red hot. A beautiful bombshell swayed herself around Slash as he played out in total enjoyment. Her long nails, soothed over his body as he performed on stage. An unfamiliar smile of greedy drunken stupor washed over his face. His enjoyment of this. This- orgy like display. The way he responded to her touch was organic and seemingly so- real? He seemed happy. So happy and so alive. Energy flowing through his fingertips and the strings as the woman lustered her self practically into his body it seemed. Her own devious grin of enjoyment too. You had seen enough. You shut the Tv off and scrambled back onto the edge of the bed in shock and disgust. This was merely a week old. Look at him. Happy, thriving.

The idea that you belonged in his picture became idiotic in this moment. The familiar echo of betrayal made its way back into your heart. Nausea waved over you as you stunned. All of this, all of this love, pain, yearning, sorrow- for what? For him to be the happiest he’s ever been? For him to be crawling with beautiful women? For him to be on MTV? What reason could he have to want you in this perfect new life he has found? His beautiful face flashed into your mind with a sting. Just as quickly, your own reflection blurring into view in the mirror on the wall beside you. Look at yourself, you thought.Tears had gone past welled and altogether escaped your eyes. You wanted to cry, really you did, but they just didn’t fall this time. You were so exhausted. Defeated. Alone.

It was in the same breath that fury engulfed your every cell. Forcing you to hurriedly pack what items you had with you and dart from the motel before Sister Graham could exit her shower. Broken inside, all you wanted now was to escape everything. Every piece of that girl that lived that life. And the life before it. You wanted nothing to do with any of it anymore.

The neon motel sign showered a hazey glow onto the dark street. A familiarity impressed you with the neon lights. As they always had. Just like the glittering signs up and down sunset. After reaching a small Main Street, you left your run now down to a slow waltz in the dark. Unsure of where to turn next exactly. A thumb stuck out along the lonely highway in the late evening hours. An hour stringing by without a single bite until an unsuspecting pickup truck rolled up along side the curb. With a window rolled down, you met your gaze with a beautiful, stunning woman. A glamorous sight, the most well tailored lady with an extravagant updo and glitter lined eyes. She eyed you precariously.

“Honey you better have a death wish standin out here in the night like this. Ain’t your daddy ever teach you stranger danger? You must be out a your damn mind girl.” The woman scorned sweetly. Her voice was deep and warm.

You stared blankly.

“Where you heading anyways baby?” She asked in a motherly and comforting voice, as if she’d raised you herself.

“I’m not really sure honestly….away from here?” You shrug at the ground.

Another figure ducks forward from the passenger seat. An equally beautiful woman pokes her head over examining you through her cigarette. “We got places to be child, you gettin in or what?” She grumbled in a less friendly manner. Her voice also a warm but deep tone. The first woman rolled her eyes at this remark. “Ignore her. Come with us.” She kindly motioned her head to the backseat.

“You damn lucky we was driving here girl, could have got your stupid ass chopped up like liver out here!” The second woman joked in a lighter, less mean, manner as the truck rumbled down the road. The cab smelled of sweet perfume and somehow, a feeling of uncertainty, but safety, befell you, and you knew wherever you went next, you vowed to leave the old you behind. Here in this town, on this curb, on this highway. A grave of who You once were settled to rest as you drove towards your new life.

[kissingghouls]

Coming Home // Phantom Club

Phantom x GN!Reader - Fluff, Kissing, No Warnings. 1700 words

Summary: The tour is over and You and Phantom are finally reunited. ( Part 4 in the Phantom Club series. If You Remember This Tomorrow, Little Ghost, A Late Night Call or read on ao3 ♥)

It was almost over. You had an alarm set to the second Phantom was due to arrive back home, but it was pointless. Unable to sleep, you’d been staring at the clock for hours trying to will time to pass. Around two in the morning you finally wander down to the front steps of the Ministry and join a couple of Siblings who are also itching to see their partners. Most of the others had been in relationships with the band members for long enough that this bit was routine. They no longer needed to stay up all night waiting by the front door anymore. Their lovers would return home just as they always did and life could resume as promised.

There’s a chill in the October air and it wraps around you like a vise, squeezing and choking as your nerves settle in. You run your hands over your arms for warmth, wishing you had a jacket. Wishing you had Phantom draped over you like a blanket once again. The anxiety eats away at you and your stomach spasms as a warning. What if…

No. You weren’t going to do that to yourself. Not now and not about him. And especially not while you were standing outside in the middle of the night waiting for him. The last several hours had been filled with a long, uncomfortable silence while the band traversed an ocean. You smiled at the thought of Swiss having to sit still that long and hoped they had seated him far enough away that the rest of the band was able to get some sleep.

You’d had a short conversation with Phantom before boarding, but it was obvious his mind was elsewhere. Somewhere along the tour he started to fear airports and the constant go, go, go energy they held. He confided in you as soon as he had the words to explain, proudly waving the ring of flash cards Cirrus had helped him update. They added words together as he acclimated more and more to this plane. But while fear and anxiety were things he could now name, part of you wished he never had to. Wished you could have been there to help him understand or soothe him or something. You had no idea that you already gave him a sense of calm that nothing else could.

-x-

Miles away in a crowded van, Phantom rests his head against the window. He’s desperate for sleep, completely exhausted by travel and the constant noise of the other ghouls. They loudly chatter away, keeping him from dozing off even for a second. It’s gone on too long to say anything now, but all he wants—all he needs—is five minutes to himself. They’re all excited to be home; he can feel it buzzing around the van like the electric hum of neon signs in dive bars. But he’s grown tired of the way their emotions feel under his skin, how they’ve wormed their way into his brain when the only thing he wants to think about is you. Your smile. Your skin. The warmth of your body against his own.

It’s been an amazing opportunity and he’s so thankful for his position in the band, but he’s had more than enough in the last few days. He wants nothing more than to curl around you in his bed, to hold you until he feels himself begin to disappear and sink into everything you are. He can’t wait to get lost in the way you make him feel, a way that no one else could ever hope to match. Just a little longer and he’s all yours again.

He's going to tell you. He decided that a while ago when he started trying to find the words. Once he did, he knew it wasn’t something he wanted to say over the phone—even if he finally understood the ins and outs of video calls. A small, purple spark catches the lint on his jeans and the tiny fire rolling over his thigh draws Dew’s attention.

“We’ll be back soon,” the fire ghoul reassures him.

He should probably be embarrassed by these little bursts of magic, clear physical signs that he still can’t always regulate his emotions. But all he really feels is a heavy sleepiness and a deep ache for all things you. Soon needs to be faster.

-x-

Headlights flood the drive and you sit up a little straighter. There’s no use in denying the butterflies in your stomach as the van comes into view and slows to a stop in front of the Ministry. One by one the ghouls slowly emerge, your friends finally returning home with bright if not sleepy smiles, their bodies still on another continent’s schedule. You’re trying so hard to be patient—you’re happy they’re all home safe and sound—but none of them are the ghoul you need.

Phantom is the last one to climb out of the van and he is still the most beautiful being you’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s off-balance, overloaded by the weight of his own backpack and he stumbles a bit as his feet hit the gravel. From your spot on the front steps you can see he’s tired. There are dark circles forming under those pretty, lilac eyes and his body sags as he slowly pushes his way through the crowd.

It’s all gone the second he spots you.

His backpack hits the ground with a heavy thud as he breaks into a run, kicking up gravel in his wake. You’re already halfway down the stairs when the others fall silent and turn to watch the two of you sprint toward each other. You’re crying almost immediately, tears blurring your vision so much you nearly trip, but it doesn’t matter. He’s throwing off sparks of quintessence magic with every step, bits of purple static hanging above him.

He catches you and wraps his arms around your waist. He’s squeezing you so tightly it hurts, but you wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything. Someone lets out a loud wolf whistle as his mouth claims yours for the first time in so, so long. You know he can feel your heart pounding against his chest as you grab ahold of his jacket to keep yourself upright. He kisses you like it’s the end of the world, or maybe it’s just the beginning starting all over again.

“Hi,” he manages to whisper as you break apart to catch your breath. He rests his forehead against yours and cups your face in his hands.

It’s not enough and you’re pulling him back in without a second thought, lips slotting together so perfectly they might have been made for this purpose alone. The ghouls and ghoulettes behind him are shouting and applauding, trying their best to embarrass the two of you. Some of them ooh and ahh, some of them are pretending to make out with each other, but it’s all just white noise.

No one else exists in this moment. You and Phantom are entirely alone in the universe, the last bits of remaining stardust clinging together to form life again. He’s lost complete control of his magic and quintessence radiates off him in thick waves that dissipate into the atmosphere with a loud, thunderous crack.

Swiss yanks him away from you and lets out a small yelp as his fingers are singed by pure energy.

Papa shakes his head and wags a finger at the two of you before waving the others away. “Alright everyone, show’s over. Come on, we still have things to do.” He pauses to give you a pointed look. “You too, Phantom.”

“Shouldn’t take too long,” Swiss whispers to him and wanders away.

Behind the van, the doors for the trailer creak open with a heavy thud. The ghouls begin to shuffle over and collect their gear as it is strategically removed from the professional level Tetris game in the trailer.

“Um, I’ll uh—” Phantom starts, but he’s so flustered he’s blushing the prettiest violet color on his cheeks.

“I’ll wait up for you,” you promise and he grins so brightly it may as well open up the heavens. He steals another kiss before he runs off and grabs his backpack from the ground.

-x-

The wait before was bad, but now, knowing Phantom was just outside made the wait feel like torture. You wanted nothing more than to run back outside and tackle him to the ground and smother him in all the unfinished kisses you still had to give him. You thought about it for a lot longer than you should have. But you didn’t want either of you to get in trouble with Papa, so you patiently planted yourself on top of Phantom’s freshly made bed.

You wanted everything to be perfect when he came back. You’d spent hours doing laundry and cleaning the room, making sure everything was as nice and neat as the way he’d left it. There were a few more traces of you in the room now—that candle he liked and some of your art supplies had made permanent homes on the desk in the corner. Little Ghost was propped up against the pillows with a small gift bag between his stuffed dog paws, just waiting for Phantom’s return. It feels as though the entire room is holding its breath and the lack of oxygen burns in your lungs.

The door swings open and your lover cocks a hip as he swings that heavy backpack from his shoulder and throws it across the room. He kicks the door shut and shuffles toward the bed, his eyes half-closed as he drags that lanky body across the carpet. He drops onto the bed next to you and with his last ounce of strength he pulls you in close and holds you exactly where he’s wanted you for the past few weeks. He covers your face in dozens of soft, sweet kisses before he finally properly catches your lips. He kisses you deeply, trying to contain the smile growing on his face as he throws a leg around you and you both feel like you can finally breathe again.

-x-

Should I do a tag list for these?... There's gonna be more...

-xo Ghouls.

[bestworstcase]

re: talk of Burn, do you have any idea why Yang's aura clearly broke when Neo struck her in V8 (right after activating Burn)? my theory is that perhaps activating her semblance does something like Tock's where it makes her aura manifest more solidly on her body (which is how it can make her hair light on fire) and therefore also, like Tock, means that her aura is more vulnerable. to me this would also explain why Yang would use it as a finisher at first; using it when she's already going to run out of aura makes it, in a sense, less dangerous because she's already gotten most of the other uses out of her aura that she can get.

would love to know if you think this is accurate, or what you actually think is going on with yang's semblance on a mechanical level (if you're interested in that anyway)

first, a general point about aura and aura breaking. the characters’ use of meters has led to a sort of popular fanon that aura works like hit points in a video game, where you have this many and taking damage reduces your HP by a certain number until you hit zero and then your aura breaks; (dark souls splash screen voice) YOU DIED.

i do not think it works that way.

from world of remnant:

aura is a manifestation of the soul, a life force that runs through every living creature on remnant—whether they are a meager shopkeep or a renowned knight. however, what sets true warriors apart from all others is their ability to amplify and control their aura.

aura is the power of one’s soul. it’s guided by emotion, self-knowledge, and spirituality. in its purest form, it becomes a semblance.

defensive aura is not a passive effect. we know this for a fact. in V5, oscar finds it physically exhausting to engage his aura in this way and ren tells him that’s normal—it requires intense concentration at first, then becomes second nature with practice. in V7, jaune’s aura-training demonstrates that recovery, regaining aura once it has been depleted, is a conscious action that can be improved through practice. this is because the “aura level” tracked by those meters is not a measurement of how much aura you have in the tank, as it were, but something like the density of the aura-field you’re pushing outward, or speed of flow, or something along those lines.

(the way i’m handling it in TDT is there’s a hard upper bound to how much aura you can hold in your skin, like a sponge not being able to absorb more water, and what auraleric gauges attempt to measure is % of maximum saturation because everyone’s aura will break around 5-10% saturation even though the amount of aura you have at 100% varies. anything you push out above that threshold is projected as transient bursts of energy and that’s where you start getting into offensive techniques.)

hazel’s phenomenal endurance is noted to derive from his rapid recovery, not the basal amount of aura he has. (he even just shrugs off being impaled.) i believe his semblance gives him an edge here, because it requires concentration to amplify one’s aura and hazel can’t be distracted by physical pain.

which brings me to aura-breaking. it doesn’t happen when the proverbial tank is empty. auras break when you can’t sustain the mental effort of generating enough aura; this might happen because the well you’re drawing from really has run dry (<- think this is what happened to nora with the high voltage door), but it might also be because you’re too tired, or you took a really painful or unexpected hit that shattered your focus, because you’re panicking or furious.

i think tock’s semblance is in the same ‘family’ as hazel’s and ironwood’s in that it puts her into a state of intense focus by blocking out anything that might shake her—with hers being far, far more potent than theirs but so potent she can’t maintain it for longer than sixty seconds, and possibly needs the ticking clock to ‘anchor’ her focus.

(fic stuff again, because tock’s alive in TDT for butterfly wing flaps reasons: sixty seconds is not a hard limit of her semblance; she can and on one occasion did go for much longer. to project an aura field you draw aura out of your reserve, which is the aura that naturally ‘pools’ around your soul; if that runs dry and you’re desperate enough, pushing hard enough, you can wring more aura out of your soul. blood from a stone. it hurts a lot, it will mess you up, and it can do permanent damage similar to what the aura transfer machines do to pietro. sixty seconds is how long it takes for tock’s semblance to drain her aura reserve, rounded down to allow for a margin of error.)

so. yang.

i think, mechanically, when the average person with aura training gets hit, their aura burns up to disperse most of that energy. (<- when they’re swatting gunfire away, the bullets bounce; the energy is reflected.)

but yang’s semblance absorbs energy—which is to say, if you had a ball throwing machine shoot a tennis ball at yang and someone else with equivalent training from the same distance, it would hit yang harder because her aura is less reflective; more of the ball’s kinetic energy flows into her body. then, like a battery, her aura converts that energy into some other form that can be stored.

sort of like dust, in fact. dust has a lot of potential energy, which is released when the material reacts with aura. given the literally explosive firepower yang gains from burn, i think that she’s storing this absorbed energy in the same form as occurs naturally in dust, which would put burn in the same ‘family’ as coco’s hype or arrastra’s equilibrium…

…and would also mean that this statement:

some prefer to use dust in its raw form: elegant, yet destructive. those who choose to wield dust in this state must possess a certain level of discipline to ensure that their resulting powers do not break free of their control.

is true of burn, too. and that tracks with who yang is and how she uses her semblance—even in V1-3, yang takes a more head-on approach to fights and tends to soak up more damage before exploding bigger vs her increasingly nimble and even acrobatic style post-beacon, but her control over those massive volcanic eruptions is immaculate.

the way burn works in general requires that yang be very, very in control of her aura at all times because she needs to balance between absorbing energy to charge up her semblance while reflecting enough to prevent injury, and this is one reason why i think yang is probably the best out of the cast when it comes to using aura. ren might have her beat on the more spiritual, extra-sensory perception side of things, but yang has to keep her focus while getting hit harder than anyone else Because Physics.

and that brings us to neo one-shotting yang’s aura. here is what happens: cinder is gloating from atop a pillar of fire while people scream and run in a panic all around them, and out of the corner of her eye, yang sees a glint of steel and realizes that neo is about to stab her unsuspecting baby sister in the back, she’s too far away, she can’t get there fast enough—burn is, in that moment, a reflex. instinct. she panics and hurls herself in between neo and ruby without even thinking about it because the only thing in her mind is GET TO RUBY NOW.

and that’s why her aura just shatters. it requires concentration—you practice until it becomes instinctive, until you don’t need to think about it, muscle memory. but it still takes focus. intention. yang has incredible self-control and thus incredible control of her aura, but everyone has limits, and hers are “holy fuck that guy stabbed blake” and “neo is going to kill ruby go go go.”

her semblance in itself doesn’t make her defense any weaker—but when she’s terrified enough for burn to activate reflexively like this, her aura will break if she gets hit because she’s freaking out.

[unseelie-robynx]

'Personal Disciple' AU idea

So this is going under a read more because it's long but it's sort of a cracky highjinksy TripSun AU where TLDR: Sanzang grows up thinking that a 'personal disciple' is someone you have what is basically a romantic relationship in all but name He's a sheltered monk baby, I explain in full below and once he picks up SWK he figures that he now has a personal disciple and had better act accordingly.

ok, so I've been listening to the Romance of the Three Kingdoms and now the Water Margin (Classical Chinese epics) and there's this kinda longstanding thing where people make jokes about monks being ah... promiscuous let's say. And then the Water Margin (which deals with more 'common' people than the nobility army politics of Three Kingdoms) has some literary examples, and I got hit with the idea that, once upon a time, a tiny baby monk heard... 'sounds' from another monks room and burst in, thinking they were in trouble or something, only to have an extremely impromptu lesson on... ah... PERSONAL DISCIPLES!!! That's it. And how certain... actions such as kissing, and bare skin contact served to 'strengthen bonds' and 'share spiritual energy' and... stuff. And that it was all TOTALLY normal and most definitely not something the tiny baby (think like, 5 or 6) monk should go tell the abbot about. Please.

And THEN we have a fast forward where said tiny baby monk, seeing as he loves to learn, finds this other monk the next day to ask more about how a relationship with a 'personal disciple' works, because he couldn't find any information on it at the library and wants to be prepared for when he's old enough to have a personal disciple, and the poor older monk is sort of stuck now, because he will be in trouble if he gets called out about this and so he has to actually BS a whole thing about this.

And that possible it's not an isolated incident, and baby (and then slowly less baby) monk accidentally walks in on other moments with 'personal disciples' but 'recognizes' them as such and says so when apologizing, so those monks have a built-in 'alibi' to try and use when tiny Sanzang inevitably shows up looking for more information.

And in this way Sanzang slowly grows this sort of 'understanding' of how to have a good functioning romantic relationship, but also totally not understanding that that's what it is (which, ngl, most of his 'instructors' had kiiiiinda been banking on him hitting puberty and like 'getting' it but nope, the ultimate monk to ever monk was asexual, go figure) because it never occurred to him that a monk might not want to be following their vows to the letter and would do something 'amiss'.

fast forward again, but this time AAAALL the way to a certain monk freeing a certain monkey from a certain mountain. whereupon said monkey tech. becomes his disciple. and this is like different from when Sanzang was just teaching and mentoring other monks, and the one thing Sanzang never really got answers on was how one gets a 'personal disciple' but he's pretty sure that this situation, you know, qualifies.

so one of the first things that Sanzang does, (after freaking out about the tiger that just got turned into a meat patty and then skinned), is to insist that he and SWK find a river, where he then proceeds to just... casually strip down and pull SWK into the water so he can begin working out all of the dirt and grime and blood, but he's trying really hard not to think about that from SWK's fur.

Because for Sanzang that seems like the correct thing to DO with his new personal disciple. Washing one another was one of the things that you just did with teacher and personal discipline, and the act of caring for one another was a way to strengthen connections so that ‘spiritual energy transfers’ went smoother. and, maybe also because SWK really was something of a mess after being under the mountain for so long, and if they were going to be sharing a tent and engaging in all of those bonding and teaching activities, then SWK would really rather his disciple be clean But for SWK, this is like, he’s suddenly getting groomed after almost 600 years of isolation. And it’s… a lot. But it also feels good and he doesn’t want it to stop either. So he just sort of… lets it happen, even if he’s really confused. And it makes him like this monk more, even if he won't admit it. Grooming is an important thing, and most monkies don’t clean themselves. It’s a symbol of acceptance and closeness, and Sanzang is accidentally ‘claiming’ SWK into his ‘troupe’ with this, even though he doesn’t realize the importance of it or see it as that sort of action. Because of this, they don’t get on the road again until the next day (because 500+ years of dirt take time to work out with just your fingers) and they get Sanzang’s small tent set up, and SWK is kinda grumbling about there not being one for him,, but also kinda not caring because, you know, Monkey, and sleeping outside isn’t a big deal, when Sanzang looks at him all confused and asks why he isn’t coming inside the tent with him. And at first SWK just thinks that maybe the monk is worried about being attacked at night or something, but Sanzng just, you know, strips again (because that skin contact thing and his accidental walk-ins on people didn’t exactly have them with clothes on in bed) and lays down and beckons for SWK to join him and… well… (Again, accidentally a monkey thing. Sleeping together for warmth is a thing and it’s odd to find a monkey alone at night. It’s another thing with acceptance and Sanzang is once again accidentally pulling SWK in) SWK eventually does (though Sanzang, remembering his ‘instructions’ and how things are meant to ‘build slowly’ and he’s nervous as all heck and on edge about HAVING a personal disciple and how to do this, so he’s MORE than willing to ‘take things slow really only just sort of cuddles with SWK that night) and Sanzang managed to get him to talk a little bit about himself, (gets some of the backstory early and such) Thus it’s not until the next day that they get assaulted by the five senses bandits, and SWK kills them and then the fight/SWK takes off and gets magic torture headband. Except, once Sanzang sees that this thing hurts SWK, he stops reciting and comes over and kisses SWK’s forehead for a moment and sort of trades off doing that and reciting until he’d finished. And then once he’s done, he kisses SWK properly.

Because one of his ‘instructors’ had…kinks personal preferences. About things. And so there was a hasty lesson about how ‘sometimes discipline is necessary’ but also how ‘affection after the punishment serves to help heal it and make it feel good into a positive and enriching experience’. And so now Sanzang’s got this all ‘worked out’ in his head with the idea of like, so he needs to discipline SWK to help him onto the correct path and to stop the murders and stuff, but he will comfort and share his chi/spiritual energies with Sanzang through the process to help make it more bearable and to show SWK that he does still believe in him, and then after he will share more to help sooth out the lingering pain and such.

(Granted, he’s not sure how well he did at sharing his energy, as he’d never done it before (it was both of their first kiss, fyi) but he remembers that that sort of thing is meant to become stronger and easier the longer a master and personal disciple spend together, and it has only been a day. They’ll both get better at it)

But poor SWK is over here like… the HELL is going on!?!?!

The book says it was like a couple of months before they ran into Ao Lie, so that’s plenty of time for SWK to sort of get answers on just what Sanzang thinks is going on out of him, usually in the evening when they’re cuddled up in bed and Sanzang is slowly starting to explore the whole ‘energy sharing through touch’ thing. So SWK learns about the whole ‘personal disciple’ thing, and unlike Sanzang does get what was actually going on (because Sanzang was a sheltered baby but SWK was not and did help with births every spring and whatnot) but he… well he likes the attention. Likes being close to someone at night, and the grooming/baths/whatever, and even if he argues with the stupid monk about being able to actually protect him like he’s supposedly meant to, Sanzang IS starting to respect and care for his monk (though if you ask him he will be adamant about how it is entirely against his will that this is happening).

So he doesn’t like, correct Sanzang about the whole ‘personal disciple’ thing, even if he’s fairly certain that it’s not actually a thing (And he justifies it with the fact that it’s not like He’s really a monk, or Buddhist, so maybe it is a thing. Who is he to say?) He does make Sanzang promise that SWK will be his only ‘personal disciple’ though, because he doesn't want anyone else taking advantage of his the monk, so there’s that.

[chocolix76]

I had to write this after seeing this post earlier today. Just a little drabble if Bloodmoon and KC lived together and KC cooked the wild animals that Bloodmoon killed for him. It's been a very long time since I've written something intended to be wholesome

Warning for almost drowning

Word count: 2,004

@madcatdaderpydrawer-blog (sorry for the mention but I thought you might want to see this)

The sun was beginning to set beyond the top of the trees beyond where the trailer was parked, casting a golden glow through the open window into the kitchen where KC stood, tapping his fingers against the edge of the empty sink. Evidence of his hard work had long since been cleaned away, stained pots placed neatly in their respective cupboards. All that remained of his days worth of cooking were the tupperware containers sitting on the table behind him, filling the air with a pleasant aroma that he thought made the trailer feel more like home.

KC had been leaning over the sink for a little over an hour, staring through the small window at the trees beyond the clearing where he had parked his trailer for a semi-permanent place to live. The clearing was bare with the exception of the fireplace he had built for Bloodmoon to keep them entertained at night. Though it filled him with a parental stress to watch as Bloodmoon poked and prodded the burning flame with a stick or skewered a freshly slaughtered squirrel and hanging it precariously over the open flame, anxious that Bloodmoon would move the wrong way and their cape would burst into flame, KC was glad to keep them entertained in anyway he could.

Half a year and come and gone since Sun and Moon had knocked on the trailer door and practically handed Bloodmoon over to him. KC remembered that day as if it were yesterday, still holding a spoon in his hand as he opened the door, dripping half cooked soup onto the welcome mat. Sun and Moon had the slightly smaller animatronic practically in a chokehold, Bloodmoon thrashing in an unsuccessful attempt to break free. In rambling tones that were practically lost to the harsh winds outside, Sun and Moon had explained that they were trusting him to try and transition Bloodmoon from slaughtering countless innocent humans to killing animals. It was clear from the agitation in their eyes and the exhausted hunch of their posture that they didn’t have the energy to do it themselves.

Any emotions KC had felt in that moment were lost with time, but he did remember staring down at the thrashing animatronic, his sons, on his doorstep and feeling obligated to let them in and teach him everything he had discovered about the beauty of life. The moment Bloodmoon was relinquished from their care, the celestial twins took off, leaving KC alone in his trailer with the son he had long presumed dead. It was a strange feeling, watching as they stared at him with contempt and hurled insults at him that left bruises on his soul but nevertheless, he wasn’t going to give up on them. Not after they had been misunderstood time and time again. If anyone was going to understand his sons, it would be him.

Progress had been far from swift, often feeling anger surge through his body as Bloodmoon showed up at the trailer once again, covered in blood that was most definitely not from an animal. Despite the anger and frustration of Bloodmoon once again giving into his urges, KC would clean them off and gently remind them of the reason why they were living with him in the first place. KC knew that yelling would cause more harm than good. However, he always left out one detail whenever he had to scold them. He refused to let Bloodmoon know that the celestial twins had placed a time limit where if his son couldn’t control their violent urges, Moon wasn’t going to hesitate to kill them.

Absentmindedly wandering to the little room they shared at the far end of the trailer, KC gently smoothing out the bed sheets on Bloodmoon’s side of the room. Somehow, every morning the sheets would come undone from where KC had neatly tucked them the day before, ending up in a heap on the floor. Fixing it was never a bother to him. In fact, KC enjoyed having a nice little laugh to himself as he tucked the sheets back into their proper places, knowing that he now had a permanent roommate. His son. Moon’s deadline was met just in the nick of time and Bloodmoon’s life was mercifully spared.

As the golden light began to fade into the darkness of night, KC returned to his spot in front of the window, resting his head against the palm of his hand, anxiety growing in his chest as he waited for Bloodmoon to return, dead animal in hand. Bloodmoon wasn’t at the firepit  poking at a roaring fire or running around in the forest, chasing after a squirrel or perhaps even a deer.

 With their curfew rapidly approaching, KC felt the urge to run through the forest shouting their name until they showed up, safe at home once more. However, he promised his sons some freedom and searching for them before they were past their curfew would be violating their independence. Despite that, KC’s urge to find them and sit them at the kitchen table while they squirmed in their seats, impatiently waiting for the soup that contained their hunt of the day didn’t diminish in the slightest. 

After a few minutes, he was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of something thrashing around in the pond nearby the trailer. It could have been anything ranging from an animal that had unwillingly fallen into the pond to a fish fighting for its life, but KC’s mind immediately went to Bloodmoon falling in or jumping in on their own accord, grasping wildly for something to save them without luck. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, KC dashed out of the trailer, his optics adjusting quickly to the falling darkness but not quick enough for him to make out the shape of whatever was thrashing around in the pond. What gave away the struggling individual was their guttural cries as they tried unsuccessfully to tread water, grasping for land which was just out of reach. KC’s metaphorical heart sank as he saw his sons fighting to keep their head above water, not wanting to be taken captive to a watery grave. The moment their head was submerged, death at the bottom of the pond was imminent.

Not wasting a moment, KC waded into the pond, icy water soaking his pantaloons up to the knees, reaching above his waist as he approached his sons as quickly as possible. Reaching his arms out, he grasped their thrashing frame, pressing their body against his chest and feeling their body still the moment they were held in familiar arms. Two clawed hands slowly wrapped around KC’s thin neck as he made his way out of the pond, carrying them back to the trailer where they would be safe and warm. It wasn’t until they were safely inside the trailer that KC placed Bloodmoon back onto dry land, his permanent grin growing as he saw the dead fish still clasped in their jaws. 

“Are you okay? Is something damaged?” KC asked, concern dripping from his voice as he checked Bloodmoon from top to bottom for any signs of damaged wiring or any other possible injuries from their hunt. “You poor thing, you are soaked! Let me get you dried off… You both scared me half to death!”

Bloodmoon made a grumbling sound, allowing the fish to be pried from their jaws and placed onto the cutting board in the kitchen for temporary storage, creating an ever growing puddle on the floor where they stood. In no time at all, KC returned with a towel, eyeing Bloodmoon’s soaked clothes and making a soft tutting noise in his voicebox. 

“This will not do. I know you are going to hate me for this, but I will need you to take your clothes off,” KC said, fighting back a laugh at the horrified look Bloodmoon gave him. “Do not look at me like that, there is no point in me drying you off if your clothes are still sopping wet. I will get you something more comfortable until they dry off. Once they are clean, you can have them back.”

KC stepped back, averting his gaze as parental love swelled in his chest at the disgruntled grumbling and complaining that Bloodmoon made as they reluctantly took off their clothes so they could be dried off. Despite their childish nature and their habit of getting into trouble, KC felt that the twins being brought to his doorstep was the best thing to ever happen to him. His favorite part of the day was watching Bloodmoon bound through the backyard, freshly hunted animal in hand, excited to show him what they had killed and relive long-winded tales of how they had slaughtered it. 

“We are ready,” Bloodmoon grunted, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, clothes laying in a heap on the floor. Their voices were brought down to nothing more than a mere whisper as they hesitantly added, “thank you.”

“Of course,” KC replied brightly, kneeling down in front of Bloodmoon and gently patting them down with a towel. He was aware of how they shifted their attention from the towel to KC, leaning into his warm touch as the remnants of their pond mishap were dried away. “Once I am done cleaning you off, I will cook the fish you brought back for dinner. You gave me quite the scare but I am very proud of you both, do you understand that?”

Bloodmoon only made a grunt in response that KC took as a yes. Once he had dried the last of the water, KC carried the towel back into the bathroom before grabbing a new pair of clothes for the twins. It was a red bathrobe that he had been given at the soup kitchen and would be less than ideal for Bloodmoon, but it would have to do until their original clothes were cleaned and dried off. After lots of struggling and complaints from the twins, KC managed to get them into the bathrobe.

“Now that you are both safe and dry, there has to be some punishment for your little stunt,” KC stated, turning his attention away from Bloodmoon as he began to cut up the fish and prepare dinner. “Tomorrow morning, you are not allowed to leave the trailer until an hour after sunrise, got it? I am very happy that you are okay, but I am going to keep an eye on you for a bit to make sure it does not happen again.”

Immediately after their punishment was set in stone, Bloodmoon flopped to the ground at KC’s feet, the animatronic pressing their face against the trailer floor. KC let out an amused huff as he stepped around them to grab a pot to place the fish in once he was finished cutting it. It had only taken a few weeks of living with Bloodmoon to realize that it was best not to pay them any mind if they had a temper tantrum. Paying attention to them only caused them to complain and whine louder.

“Our father dares imprison us!” Bloodmoon cried, their voice still as loud as ever even when muffled by the floor. “He’s never going to let us see the light of day again, enslaving us in this stupid trailer! He’s going to let us starve! Awful father, he is.”

KC simply laughed to himself at Bloodmoon’s over dramatic nature, continuing to step over them as needed. It was only when the pleasant aroma of the fish soup on the stove began to waft through the trailer that the twins were silenced, sitting attentively at KC’s feet and waiting impatiently for their hunt to be turned into a delicious meal. Sure, Bloodmoon often gave him the robot equivalent of a heart attack with their impulsive nature, but KC wouldn’t trade moments like these for the world. As he had promised to Bloodmoon half a year ago, KC would care for them forever and always. 

[konigenblobbity]

It Wasn’t my Fault [Part 2]

Javier Peña x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst to Fluff, reference to cheating, sad Javi

—> [Part 1]

Summary: After you walked out on Peña, you tried to organize your thoughts, figure out your next move. While he did what he could in order to get you to talk to him again. After three weeks you finally decide to meet with him and talk about your relationship… he can only hope it wasn’t to end it.

A/n: Decided to give Javi a happy ending :)

It’s been three weeks since you left Javier crying on the floor of your, then, shared apartment. You were staying at a friend’s place, whose been endlessly kind, giving you all the attention and care you need. Allowing you the time to recover while simultaneously reassuring you that you’ll be okay.

You were restless most nights, having gotten too used to falling asleep tangled up in Javier’s arms. Whenever that thought enters your mind you can’t help but cry. Curling up on your bed, hiding under your cover as your cries turned to sobs, draining every ounce of energy out of you until you finally fell asleep.

Javier was the same. That night, it took him an hour to get up off the floor, it finally sinking in just how badly he messed up. At first he obeyed and didn’t message you, it was after the first week that he finally caved and sent you a message apologizing profusely for what he did. From that day on he sent you a message each night, hoping each time that you’d finally respond.

He needed to do something, whatever he could to remind you that he still loved you endlessly. The first night he messages, you were drowning your sorrows in a tub of ice cream and rewatching your favorite show.

When your phone buzzed and you saw his message you immediately burst into tears. No matter how hard you fought the urge, you couldn’t ignore him… bawling more when you read it. From them on, whenever your phone buzzed you’d jump for it. Reading it immediately, but never replying, his hope growing when he saw that you read them. Knowing you weren’t fully ignoring him.

Javi 💋: I miss you Hermosa. I know you told me not to text you, but I just cant stop myself. I can’t stop myself from reading all our old messages, looking through all our photos together, walking around our apartment and being flooded with memories. Please don’t give up on me… on us.

Javi 💋: I should’ve pushed her away when she approached me. I shouldn’t have drank as much as I did, I should’ve done SOMETHING to stop myself from doing what I did. I can’t imagine how much that hurt you… seeing me at that bar. I messed up. And I can’t even begin to explain how sorry I am.

Javi 💋: You know you’re my entire world right? You’re everything to me! I can’t lose you. Please Princessa, I feel like I’m going insane the more time I’m away from you… I need you back in my arms.

Javi 💋: I know you’re reading these messages Hermosa… Just tell me what I need to do, I’ll do anything to get you back. Just please don’t shut me out… please.

And it went on like that for two weeks. You had a lot of time to reflect on what happened, think about how to approach your, now, fragile relationship. You love Javier, that was never a question, but you just didn’t know if you could trust him anymore. If you could ever trust him again.

But… you’re finally ready to talk to him, face to face. You take a deep breath, staring down at your phone where his contact was open. You press the call button and move your phone to your ear. You look over to your friend who was smiling reassuringly, having helped you in making this step.

The phone barely rings once before Javier picks up, his voice clearly raspy but his excitement clear. “HERMOSA! Oh thank god i tho-“ you cut him off, staying stern “We need to talk Javi. Meet me at the Cafe, I’ll be there in an hour” you make sure not to let your voice waiver. The sound of his voice making your heart sing.

Your words sent a shiver through Javier, your tone, and what you were implying had his heart beating faster. If he analyzed it any more he might’ve had a heart attack. His only semblance of hope was you calling him ‘Javi’, that had to mean something… right?. “Okay. I’ll be there.” He then heard the line click on the other end.

Leaping off the couch he went to take a shower, knowing that he hasn’t been looking his best since you’ve left. He had a lot to do before he left, shave, find some decent clothes that weren’t stained, try to find some way to get the smell of whiskey and cigarettes off his tongue… the more things he thought of, the more he rushed, last thing he wanted was to be late.

You enter the cafe exactly an hour after your call, looking around and immediately spotting Javier. He was sat in a very familiar spot. This cafe being the one right near your shared apartment, where you had spent most mornings together, sharing a coffee, holding hands, as each of you focused on your own work.

You take a deep breath, noticing how his hands were in fists, pressed against his forehead, his leg bouncing nervously under the table, he already ordered a coffee and you notice one sitting in front of him as well. You can’t help but smile softly knowing that it was for you.

You walk over and as Javier notices you from the corner of his eyes he looks up at you and immediately shoots up out of his seat. “Hermosa…” he couldn’t keep himself from smiling at the sight of you, his eyes welling up slightly as if he was about to cry. His bottom lip quivered and he opened his arms going to hug you.

You place a hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “Sit down Peña… please” you could see his smile drop and he felt his heart drop. He nodded slowly and sat back down, his leg bouncing more as that fear comes back, the idea of losing you having him more anxious then any case he’s ever worked.

You walk over to your chair, sitting down before reaching to the cup in front of you. “First, I need you to listen Javi… then you can say what you want” you look into his eyes, noticing how his own are completely fixated on you. He nodded his head, willing to do anything you asked just to get to stay here with you another minute.

“What I saw that night… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget. Or get that image out of my mind.” You take a sip from your drink, noticing how Javier fights the urge to say something, but silences himself remembering what you said. You go to continue but pause when you notice how your coffee was exactly how you liked it. A soft smile graces your lips and you put it back down.

“But I love you Javier. I love you more than anything and anyone. So I am willing to give you another chance” at those words you watched as Javier’s face lights up, he opens his mouth but you bring up a hand, silencing him with the gesture. “However… you need to win back my trust. Seeing you cheating on me… and the idea of what would’ve happened if I hadn’t walked in, it keeps me from fully trusting you”

He can only nod at your words, completely enamored in you, listening intently and waiting for your permission to speak. “Until I’m ready to trust you again, we need to step back. Go back to dating. Not being boyfriend and girlfriend, but just dating” you spoke sternly, there was no room for argument, it was a ‘take it or leave it’ deal.

When you pause he takes that as his sign to speak. “I understand that completely Princessa… I can’t put into words how sorry I am. She meant nothing, I was stupid for doing what I did and in those three weeks I couldn’t hold you… fucking hell, I have never wished to go back in time as much as I did then. I love you endlessly, and I am going to prove it to you. I swear” He reaches his hands forward, placing them in the center of the table, watching you intently, waiting to see if you’ll accept his touch.

You take in a long breath and give him a soft smile. You reach your hands across the table and take his hands in yours. At that simple gesture he can’t help but let out a soft exhale, grinning wildly and grasping your hands tightly. He clenched his eyes shut, clearly trying to hold back tears, overjoyed at the fact that you were giving him another chance, an opportunity to redeem himself.

“God I don’t deserve you… you’re my entire world, my guiding light. I’ll do whatever it takes to get your trust back, even if it takes months of dating, of small coffee dates, or walks in the parks, or gifting you flowers on special occasions… I’ll do anything if it means I get more time with you.” He continues to ramble and you feel tears come to your eyes, slowly cascading down your searing cheeks.

Every word he spoke was from his heart, there was no hesitation, he was completely sincere, by the way his head leaned down against the table it was clear he was willing to burn the whole world for you. And if the table wasn’t there… you were sure he’d be on his knees, praising you for allowing him a chance he doesn’t deserve.

“What I did… it was unacceptable, even if you forgive me one day, I never will. I hurt you… something I swore I’d never do. I’m sorry… I’m so fucking sorry. God Hermosa I-“ he didn’t stop talking, people began to turn their heads, spotting Javier practically praying to you as if you were a deity.

You grip his hands tighter before interrupting him. “Javi I understand… it’s alright. We’ll move forward, see whether this relationship can last. Give it another shot hm? But we have to do it together” he lifts his head and looks at you, his eyes red and streaks of tears visible on his cheeks.

“Together…” he repeated and smiled at you. After a while, you both stood up, but not yet leaving. Simply standing there for a moment, gazing into each others eyes. Then suddenly, with a soft sob, Javier couldn’t help himself and pulled you towards him. Wrapping his arms around your waist tightly, holding you close as if you would fade away if he let go.

“I love you so much Hermosa. I missed you so much. I don’t deserve an Angel like you in my life, but I won’t waste this chance, I promise you, I will give you the whole world just to see you trust me again”