#planning for this to be a oneshot

[sillysiluriforme]

anything in particular that he’s guilty about or just general religious guilt?

Realistically i (as a fellow north african diaspora muslim) think nino, who i assume is the mildest flavor of religious possible, would be having a very long very quiet internal crisis the entire time.

"ok so there's this magic (demon ???) spirit turtle creature who makes me invulnerable and gives me fancy supernatural abilities (deal with demon ???) for about half an hour once or twice a week depending on whether or not ladybug needs me but it's chill its not witchcraft bro i promise you its some other shit. bro. also the magic turtle says its billions of years old and is immortal. but ITS CHILL. ITS NOT A DEMON. ITS NOT LYING TO ME. IM FRIENDS WITH THE TURTLE. WE'RE FRIENDS.

oh my best friend is a creature created using one of the not-demons ? he's not included in the religious text i was raised with and believe in ? that renders him technically soulless ? ok. ok. im choosing to ignore the ramifications."

here is a mouse drawn artistic rendition of the senti-adrien reveal from nino's perspective

[choccy-milky]

congrats on baby #2!🥰👍 part 2 to this post bc seb is a smug ass bitch when it comes to getting clora pregnant. and ty @rednite-dork for sending me the original pic ages ago LMFAO... i knew as soon as i saw it that i had to redraw it eventually 👼

[mire1li]

Reader as Alastor's Mother part 2

Part 1!, Part 3!

𓋼 You would absolutely decorate his microphone with a bunch of ribbons you found!

And he would absolutely allow it in fear of upsetting you, although he began to take them off later on when he had to leave, but seeing you get sad at his actions changed his mind… It did not help that the ribbons were glittery.

“Oh look, Sparkles got sparklier!” Angel had said when Alastor was passing by.

𓋼 He wants you to be happy but don't even try having feelings for anyone in hell, they'll most likely 'disappear under mysterious circumstances' and then you'll just so happen to hear their screams on Alastor's radio broadcast <3

Lucifer tries to flirt everytime he sees you outside (or once he comes back to see the hotel which… would be 'some' time later…) But it's not long before Alastor shows up bcs he has a shadow follow you everywhere

“My mother certainly would not want someone so… ancient…”

“are you trying to make me sound like a fossil?”

“Maybe~ I can’t say for sure though!”

"Y'know, I've stolen wives before… maybe it's time to steal a mother instead!"

"I'm going to fucking kill you"

𓋼 Lucifer would play silly games with you and bring you gifts by leaving them at the hotel’s doorstep, although you never received any (like he thought you did) because Alastor would always take them before you saw them. Or he would make them his own to give to you if you were having a worse day than usual!

“Mother, I had noticed that you weren’t feeling all too great so I brought you a wonderful gift!”

“Oh, thank you, darling!”

Your mood always brightened when he gave you these gifts. 𓋼 One time when Lucifer visited the hotel, he went straight to you to ask you about how you liked the gifts.

"[Name]! Hello, deer, how are you? Did you like the gifts that I left you?"

"Hello Luci, I'm fine, thank you! … Gifts? what gifts?"

"The ones… that I left on the doorstep of the hotel!"

"I dont recall seeing any gifts there… but Alastor recently started leaving the hotel more often! Not for very long though…"

And then Lucifer realised. You never received his gifts because Alastor got to them first! After that, he made sure to put a note with his signature on them. Though, that still didn't deter Alastor, to Lucifer's dismay.

𓋼 One time, Angel returned to the hotel at an unreasonably late hour, so you went to make sure everything was alright.

"Are you alright, Angel?"

"Huh? No, I'm totally fucked!"

"Why? What happened?"

"You know Valentino right? My boss?"

"Of course I do, everyone hates him quite a bit here and you always talk about him"

"Right, well, fuckin' Val made me work an extra 10 hours!"

"He what?!"

"Yeah! Absolute bitch move."

Naturally, Alastor was watching and listening to you two so you turned to him, with quite the menacing look in your eyes.

"Oh Alastor, prepare your radio broadcast!~"

𓋼 You noticed that most of the residents of the hotel all came to you for advice quite often (except Niffty, she's just an entirely different entity)

"It seems they have become quite fond of you, Mother"

"They have, haven't they?"

Alastor's expression was always one of annoyance whenever someone came to you for help. He wouldn't dare admit it, but he was most certainly jealous of anyone who even stood too close to you, let alone talked to you.

𓋼 Because of that one time that Alastor stood right next to Charlie to spite Lucifer, Lucifer decided to stand just that close to you to get back at him.

"An eye for an eye, Mr Radio!"

"I recommend you watch yourself."

𓋼 One time, when you were out of the hotel and walking around Hell with Alastor, Vox just so happened to see you on one of his tv screens, Valentino sitting by him, messaging someone.

"Hey Val, who the fuck is that with that old-timey prick?"

"Hm? No clue."

"You didn't even look, fuckhead"

"How would you know? You're too busy eyefucking Alastor."

"I am not"

"She's probably just another one of those redemption hotel idiots. It doesn't matter"

But Vox still just glared at the screen.

𓋼 Vox continued to keep an eye on you, seeing just how wonderful you are and so when you were outside the hotel alone (or so he thought) he went up to you. Somehow he didn't catch onto the fact that you're Alastor's mother.

"Hello-"

"What do you think you're doing?" Alastor, of course, suddenly appeared out of thin air, standing in between you and Vox, with an even more annoyed smile than usual.

"Alastor, is this another one of your friends?"

"No-"

"Yes, absolutely, ma'am. Great friends, in fact!"

"Ha! Well, you see, this is my Mother."

"Your what?"

Yeah, Alastor simply walked away with you whilst Vox was buffering.

𓋼 Vox constantly tried to talk to you alone but Alastor was always there to stop him, so unfortunate.

"Would you stay away from my Mother, you-! Ahem, my apologies, Mother."

"Hah! Your mother? I think you meant our mother!"

𓋼 Alastor would absolutely cover your ears when swearing at, or insulting, anyone.

𓋼 When you first met Valentino, you were so mad at him on Angel's behalf that you knocked him out and brought him back to the hotel with you. Of course, Vox was there with Val but he was like a lost duckling, just slowly trailing behind you, unsure what to do.

"I'm back!"

"What the fuck did you do??" Angel was lying down on the couch when you entered, dragging the unconcious Valentino behind you.

"A favour to you and hell!"

"No, but how?!"

"That's a secret~"

"Ok… so why'd ya bring him here?"

"Redemption"

𓋼 Back to Lucifer! He would tell you random animal facts to try and impress you! He would also unironically ask around, and search up (if necessary), how to impress a woman.

𓋼 Lucifer would suddenly start playing the violin for everyone in the hotel 'for everyones' entertainment' as he called it. (It was meant for you though). Each time Lucifer did this, Alastor told you that something important happened that required your attention. You always stayed for the beginning though.

𓋼 One day, you were baking cookies and you and Alastor left the kitchen for a while whilst they were in the oven, however, you both somehow managed to forget about them… so when the smoke alarm suddenly rang, you ran into the kitchen, everyone wondering what happened.

"Fuck!"

"Language, Mother."

"Don't you 'language' me, young man!"

𓋼 You redecorated his room. He wasn't a fan of all the new colours, but he still appreciated the gesture. (There was a lot of glitter involved)

𓋼 After a while of you staying there, everyone definitely sees you as a mother figure (Alastor didn't appreciate this much either but he's willing to look past it for his friends)

𓋼 As small gifts, you made everyone items that resemble them and filled them with different colours of glitter and paper that remind you of them. Bonus: Behind the scenes! 1. Yuri's bad timing:

2. Vox and Val:

[cevherien]

Our blood stains the future and my tortured senses

Yandere!Ellie Williams, | chp, i.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ After your mental decline and inevitable psychological collapse, Ellie gives you a taste of your new life, and whats more to come.

warnings. Smut, Porn With Plot, Yandere, Angst, Fluff, Kidnapping, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy. Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Finger Sucking, Lesbian Sex, ww, Sapphic, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality Stockholm Syndrome,

a/n: finally out omg,,, chapter zero (of sorts) is here

Ellie knew she didn't have any other choice one way or the other, when the time came, she'd have to do it. Take you away, keep you somewhere safe from all that could harm you.

The musky, airless basement never felt this claustrophobic since your arrival; getting you to the edge with never ending panic attacks where you'd hold yourself back not to hyperventilate much and use up whatever breathable air was left in this hell hole. Lack of oxygen in your lungs making you feel dizzy and weaker than you already felt.

You were sick and hungry, enraged and betrayed. Cheeks stained with your dried tears, nose runny and mouth dry. It was a cold night. Fear and hunger getting the best of you.

How long has it been since Ellie, the girl you thought was the love of your life, the girl who couldn't dare hurt a single hair on your body had kidnapped you?

Days? Weeks? Years even? You've lost your sense of time here in this basement. The only thing you know for sure is that you lost the strength in you. At first you'd fight back, scream, refuse to eat or drink. Not speaking to her whatsoever, denying her of everything. Not even sparing her a glance.

Ellie was calm and collected throughout this entire process. Even to your surprise, since you know how violent and outraged she got when frustrated.

And oddly she wouldn't do anything to you against your will, at first atleast. Seemingly waiting for your outbursts and meltdowns to come to an end, then she'd strike.

Resolve fully broken, half conscious laying down on the cold concrete of the pit you dare call a basement, with the occasional visit of Ellie to check up on you to see if you're okay. Well shit you're not. Not since the day of your arrival.

You don't even remember her previous visits down, how she'd inject you of something after you completely reject any kind of supplement or food from her, or how she'd try to talk you out of your 'stubbornness' and how you needed to 'accept things as they are now'.

Nightmares and hallucinations, your mind must've been playing tricks on you with the isolation and your situation doing numbers on your mental. Seeing visions from the corner of your eye and waking up screaming in the middle of.. you don't even know. Going through psychosis while your brain blocks out the memories of your stay here from how harsh they had an affect on you, well naturally.

You don't remember anything she has told you throughout her visits or even when you had first opened your eyes to this place. It's all in a haze, memories foggy and grey. Dozing off whenever she tries to speak to you, closing off your senses as a defense mechanism.

Which, also near blocked your good memories with her, your past normalcy and happiness.

You felt dirty, head to toe. Not only by your physical state but your mental and psychological state too. How could she dehumanize you like this?

This couldn't be love, how could it ever be. But you were starting to believe it was.

-

Ellie knew she didn't have any other choice and one way or the other she'd have to do it. Take you away, keep you somewhere safe from all that could harm you.

It broke her heart too, seeing you in pain like that. But she had to, for your own good. It's all because she loves you and wants to protect you, wants you on her side forever. She just loved too much, cut her some slack. As if.

She gave you the alone time that you needed to accept your new circumstances, gave you her patience and her time too. Knew you'd crumble at one point. Come crawling back to her like you always do.

Ellie unlocks the trapdoor leading downstairs, to the basement, to your prison, coming in to do her daily check in. You were at your usual spot curled up, fingers cold and your skin an unhealthy pale yellow.

Walking towards you with the daily syringe of supplements, she kneels before your corpse-like spent body. You feel her presence and the movement, making you jump up -with much or less what energy you got left- but instead of pushing her away or kicking your feet, tears dwell your lash line. Tired. Worn out.

What would standing against this do you any good? You had no resistance left.

And guess, it was about time you get out of that shell now. Took you long enough, 5 weeks to be exact, but she'd happily wait five more if it means to be with you forever afterwards.

Her hand reaches out to cup your left cheek, you don't pull away. Shivering under her still perfectly intimate touch, even after everything she's done, still as warm as the day you fell in love with her for the first time.

”Oh angel..” you sniffle as her thumb soothingly caresses your chin. Softly nuzzling against her palm, you let loose a sob. A single tear roll down your cheeks, then one more, and more.

”Ellie,“ you sniffle between each word, ”Ellie I'm so exhau– sob `m so exhausted, please,“

Weary eyes settle on her relieved and content ones, almost like a puppy finally getting it's much anticipated treat. Restless nights has finally paid off.

”Come here,“ she pulls you into her arms, squeezing you tight almost as if you could slip away from her grasp, ”finally decided to be good now, princess?“

You nod your head like a makeshift bubblehead, ”Please.. please,“ almost like you were at the brink of another mental collapse- as if there was anything left to break down, all was in ruins anyway.

Her nose buried into your neck, feeling you all so close. Even though you smell like rust, dried blood and sweat, even your foul odor relaxing her muscles. Your filth wasn't something she was repulsed by, seen and felt way worse anyway. You were her divinity, every aspect of you was flawless. Even your perfect imperfections.

She pulls away after remaining like this for some time, then pushes your greasy unkept hair behind your ear and softly whispers, ”I'm so glad baby, so so glad honey.“

Feeling lightheaded by her breath hot on your face, soon you find yourself pressed against her wet mouth, lips warm and soft against your chapped dirty ones. You let her guide your lips, losing yourself in her touch, not even realizing how drowsy you've been getting. Slowly feeling yourself slip away. Passing out on her arms

Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.

-

The distant but close sound of still water and the warm embrace of the bathtub pick at you to open your eyes, faintly. Lids still half closed you try to make out whats going on, why it is so calm and why do you feel so euphoric.. Did you die, was this heaven?

Slightly making out the delightful shine of light wherever you were, it wasn't dim like that fucked up jail of room. Nor did it smell bad of rot and old spices. It smelled like a spring breeze when the sun shined brightest in a vogue haze.

The tender bosom of it's flow making you hazier, all the worries gone without question. Where were you anyways? You didn't give much thought to it though. Instead with heavy arms you moved your fingers through the water, a smile tugging at your face. You felt like a little baby, your head felt fuzzy -almost inebriated- until you finally noticed Ellie.

You were so out of it that you didn't even realize she was there all along. Her hands were busy with some materials -yet, you didn't give much thought to that either. Maybe unable to do so would be a better way to put it.- Soon she turned back to you, hands full with hygiene products and brushes. A razor and some cotton too. Softest towels you could ever find in a place like this. Pretty.

Your head falls to the side, pouting lips opening involuntarily. You look at her with your weary but rather relaxed eyes. Her eyes meet yours in a spark, kneels before the tub and puts her palm to your cheeks.

Neither of you spoke, but for different reasons. You felt defeated, weak, feeble... She was excited, stoked to finally have you give in.

Soon, she puts some of the lotion to the bath water with the droplet, then puts the shampoo bar in her hand and gathers up enough to massage it to your scalp. Her hands were gentle. She was going easy on you, slowly washing your hair so then she can continue to care for your other needs.

That must be then where you fell asleep again, she couldn't blame you. You needed rest. A lot of it.

-

When you wake up, you felt the gentle touch of the back of her index finger caressing the apple of your cheek. You flutter your lashes and mildly bat them to open your eyes to her. Seeing the contagious smile on her lips makes you question everything you went through. Was she still the Ellie you knew and loved, your Ellie that you adored oh so much? You felt crazy for thinking that.

"Morning angel, slept well?"

You get yourself higher with your elbows, looking at her curiously. She was acting as if none of that even happened. Maybe making you feel strange for still tugging on the past. Your face sours a little, getting uneasy at your own thoughts.

Ofcourse Ellie notices "Shhh," she mutters almost to pacify you, "You're okay now, with me." her calloused hands find the small of your back and pulls you close, laying you down on top of her.

"Ellie-"

You were really too sweet for this world, a naive little girl, a little bunny in a dirty and dangerous world that would prey on you. Hurt you and take you away from her. She nodded to herself about taking you, convinced she did the right thing.

"Angel?" she leaves a small kiss to the crown of your head while her thumb drew circles to your skin.

You could hear her heartbeat from laying directly on top of Ellie, head to her chest. You look up, she drops a peck to the tip of your nose. You felt dizzy and complaint. Must be the drugs.

Everything was happening way too fast.

"I made you breakfast."

"T-thanks.." Breakfast meant another dose of meds, her service meant payback.

Ellie's hands trail lower, holding onto your ass. She had dressed you in Satin, they were oversized. She tugged at your shorts to pull them higher, revealing your buttcheeks. You felt the cameltoe of its material on your folds with her yank, no underwear. Ofcourse.

A small gasp escapes your lips when her hands slide inside the confines of the material to grope your butt, each hand kneading your ass inside your shorts.

"Ellie,–" feeling hot all over, you groan. Pretty sure you weren't supposed to be getting aroused by your kidnapper. But you were a simple girl.

Her hands continue their exploration, middle and ring finger finding your slit and teasing your hole, making you involuntarily rise your ass to meet her hand and open your legs wider. You try to hold in the breathy moans trying to escape you, yet fail.

You yelp when she turns you on your back and sets you down to the mattress, caging you over with her arms at either side of you. Wetness had started to pool on the material of the shorts already, giving a darker stain on its faucet.

She leans in to kiss you and you reciprocate, tongue and spit covering your lips, her hands undoing the buttons of your top to leave you bare. Once the fabric is off you feel the cold air hit you, making your nipples hard and sensitive. You felt so needy and aroused, one part of you wanted to believe it wasn't because of her drugging you but because you genuinely wanted this. A girl can dream.

Her kiss deepened while she pawed at the elastic waistband of your shorts to lower them and reveal your pussy that she missed oh so much. You help her take it off, once removed she forces your legs apart and dips her head down to your tits, suckling and nibbling at your nipples, leaving kisses along your areola and biting down hickeys to the fat of your breasts.

She was purposefully avoiding your aching cunt, puffy lips ready to be played with. But she wanted you to know how much you needed her. Your want for her tenfolding with her tease and shunning.

"Ellie please,-" that's been the only words you've been uttering, funny enough.

"Please what, angel? Use your words with me." She stops her attack on your tits "Let me hear you say it."

You gulp down your dignity, if any was left to begin with. "Need you to take care of me.. down there, please–"

"Down where?" her hands settle down on your thighs still keeping them apart. She never breaks eye contact.

Taking a deep breath, "My p-pussy, please- Need you to play with my pussy s-so bad."

"Good girl."

With that she spits at your pussy, not that you needed it, you were as wet as it gets. Pussy so eager it would cream on her abductors hands.

She uses her knees to keep you apart while one hand lands on your mound and the other holds the side of your waist. Fingers graze your wetness and tease your clit lightly, not giving you enough friction whatsoever.

You whine and she decides to not make you wait any longer, thumb firmly caressing circles to your clit and two fingers aligned at your fluttering hole.

"Missed your sweet pussy, baby." without warning she shoves to digits into your pussy, two knuckles deep, then to the hilt, works you open with her fingers. Your slick making it all the easier.

"Missed it so much," leans in and gives you a sloppy open mouthed kiss, tongue urging itself in. You accept her intrusion, embrace it and take it on.

Fingers find the mushy spongy spot deep and played with it, making you cry out and tremble under her. Turning you into a moaning mess in no time. She was playing you like a puppet. And you happily obliged.

"So good, Ellie so good please don't stop–" you beg, eyes watering from how much you feel, you've been locked down for too long that you missed touch. Missed pleasure.

Her hands take up the pace, moving in and out of you faster, you push down on your heels and crumble the sheets under your clenching nails, digging down and mouth agape, you'd almost start drooling.

She pushes you over the edge with one more stroke to your clit and you cum instantly, either because you haven't had a orgasm in months or a good one ever because this one feels euphoric. Overwhelming.

She doesn't stop though, riding through your orgasm with an even faster pace, making your already oversensitive pussy throb with overstimulation. Making you moan, hard.

She pulls her fingers out but not before earning a breathy whine from you and gathers your slick juices on her two fingers, raising them up to her lips and giving it a kitten lick but stopping herself from sucking it, instead she looks down on you and decides you should have the honors.

"Baby, come here" she leans into you, squishing your cheeks together and forces your lips into a deeper pout, expecting you to open your mouth.

"Open up, say aah." And you do so, obviously. Cause you are a good little girl for her, aren't you now?

She slides in her two fingers that were inside of you, slick with your juices which you greedily suck on, tasting yourself on her fingers.

Once you're done, she pulls her hand away, your lips and her fingers linking with a trail of saliva.

"Good job baby," Then she laps at your lips and mouth, feeling all of your slick from all over your body at once. When she pulls away you are a boneless mess.

Lovestruck, addicted.

Guess this is your life now, not so bad is it?

[koolades-world]

One bed troupe w/ Lucifer

You were out on a tour of the Devildom with Diavolo, Lucifer, Solomon, Luke, and Simeon. Diavolo wanted to promote the exchange program further, and let the Devildom see the faces of the wonderful angels and humans that had come to stay with them. They would be out with the group for about a week in order to tour the entire realm. It really wasn’t necessary for Lucifer to be there. In fact, it would have been better for him to stay behind to keep his brothers in check and run the school, but, he had insisted on coming along. His brothers joked it was to stay with Diavolo, but they were secretly mad that Lucifer got to go and they had to stay, jealous about the quality time he would get with you.

It was day four in the trip, which was about halfway through. The day was finally over, and the group was finally returning to the hotel. They hadn’t been the one to move their luggage into the rooms. The room arrangements were as following: Luke and Simeon, of course, Diavolo and Solomon, and finally you and Lucifer. Simeon didn't want to leave Luke alone, and Diavolo enjoyed sharing a room with someone. Lucifer was definitely torn between who to bunk with. It was clear he wanted to keep both you and Diavolo safe from the sketchy sorcerer, but Diavolo insisted he would be just fine with Solomon, and even saw it as a bonding experience. He was rich enough to avoid this altogether, but found the experience novel and once-in-a-lifetime. It was typical of Diavolo to look at the situation that way, which left you and Lucifer together. Dia and Solomon got along surprisingly well, much to Lucifer's dismay, and on the first night alone they painted each others nails and ordered three hundred grim worth of food.

Once reaching your room, you kicked off your shoes and sat at the small kitchen in the hotel room. Lucifer followed behind them, moving their shoes out of the way of the door. He shut the door behind himself, and took off his own shoes more carefully to set them beside theirs. He saw both sets of luggage propped up beside each other, one set black and one set pink. The cute bag tag that Mc had made him adorned his own, complete with his name and bedazzlement.

“Luci, my feet hurt.” You whined to him. He chuckled at your behavior.

“Go and take a warm shower, or bath if you see fit. That will help. We have a few hours before dinner.” You nodded, agreeing and promise to be quick. He opened his suitcase and began looking for a new outfit to wear the evening. You took your own suitcase and disappeared into the bathroom. He turned around to lay out the outfit on whichever bed he should call his, but to his surprise, there was only one. He stopped for a moment, holding the suit. Did Diavolo do this on purpose? Was this a mistake? He found himself thinking for a good moment. He knew he wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with his beloved Mc, but he didn’t want to make you do anything they didn’t want to. He decided to lay out his outfit on a nearby chair instead, leaving the bed untouched. He busied himself in the kitchen instead, poking around for anything that could be his saving grace. He was only able to find some dishes and dishwasher soap.

You finally emerged from the bathroom, with damp hair and wearing a robe, suitcase in tow. “Luci! The robes at this hotel are so nice. I should get one for home.” The way you were affectionately enamored with every small thing in the Devildom warmed his heart. He would have to buy one for you. In any other situation, he hated that damned nickname, but he could never bring himself to stop you from using it.

“Can we talk for a moment?” He decided to bring this up sooner than later. He was a grown demon and running from his problems would not help.

“Sure thing! What’s up?” You set your suitcase down, right back next to his.

It took him a moment to say what he wanted to. Having you in front of him made it much more difficult then he initially thought. "I believe there has been a mistake. We only have one bed." He studied your face for any negative changes. To his surprise, there wasn't one.

"I thought it was going to be much worse that that with the face you were making. I don't mind if you don't." You smiled at him. He found his face heating up and he glanced away. "No need to be shy! This way, one of us won't be super far from the TV. My favorite part about staying in hotels is watching TV in bed and now I get to do it with my favorite demon. Don’t tell Mammon I said that." You giggled.

Lucifer covered his face with his hand. He got up and turned his back to you. "I'm off to shower. See that you are ready to go in an hour." He blindly tried to walk into the bathroom and instead hit his head on the wall before walking through the doorway. You laughed at how flustered he was. Since he was busy, you decided to snuggle up on the side of the bed with the outlet closest so you could charge their D.D.D. They turned on the TV and watched the Devildom cooking show intently. If anyone asked, it was to "acclimate to Devildom culture" but really it was because they enjoyed watching cooking and yelling at the screen. Solomon called you at some point, so the two of you began amiably chatting about the hotel rooms.

Lucifer emerged from the shower pretty quickly and saw you under the sheets, watching TV and talking to Solomon. He picked up on context clues and quickly asked if he could talk to Diavolo. His mood was slightly soured when you rejected his request because you were having a great conversation about the TV show and because Diavolo would not help him get a different room. He decided to get changed while you talked with his least favorite human. Time passed quickly and before he knew it, dinner was over.

You could tell Lucifer had drank a little more than he usually would and was tipsy. He was much taller than you, yet you were the one dragging him in the right direction. You told him to go get changed, and he came back with his clothes folded. He was in a pair of simple black pajamas. You almost preferred him this way, actually. He didn’t try to hide how he felt or anything, but you still felt guilty about it.

He flopped down on the bed, sprawled out, leaving the bathroom open. The pajamas Mc had were long sleeves and long pants. During the day, the Devildom was scorching. However, at night, it was freezing. It rarely snowed or iced over, and most demons barely noticed it. But you for sure as hell did. You learned there was barely a day where you could wear something light, unless you knew one of the brothers would be in your bed since they made nice heaters. Belphie gifted you a heating pad, which quickly made him your favorite for that week, much to the dismay of his brothers. Once you changed, you entered the main room again. Sitting at the edge of the bed, you pushed at Lucifer’s side until he finally rolled over.

“Luci! You’re laying on the remote.” The TV was going wild. Flickers of your cooking show came and went as Lucifer cycled through the many channels at an extreme speed. He dug around underneath himself until he found it and passed it to you. As you began looking for your channel again, you felt a pair of crimson eyes on you.

“I don’t tell you you’re gorgeous enough.” His words caught you by surprise. “You’re gorgeous.” He would never usually say that. Everything always went unsaid or physically communicated. You stared at him for a moment. His face was half illuminated by the flickering TV screen and was nestled under the sheets, like a bird would. You followed suit soon as the room began to grow colder and colder, indicating nightfall. You began to shiver, pressing your hand against your face for warmth.

You felt hands over yours. They were very warm. You turned and caught Lucifer staring right into your eyes. "Next time, tell me if you're cold." He pulled you close, granting you the well needed warmth. He wrapped himself around you. Usually, he was never this cuddly, but you didn't complain. Without him, you might literally freeze to death. The past few hotels had compensated, and given you warmer sheets, and whatever else they could to make you comfortable. This one had not. Lucifer tucked your head under his chin. Your hands were still half frozen, so to keep them intact, he placed them on Lucifer's hips. With you in his arms, Lucifer passed out pretty quickly. You continued watching their show.

Half asleep, you tried to continue watching the TV, your eyes fluttering shut occasionally. You awoke with a startle every time. Your D.D.D. lit up after a while, to which it took you a moment to register. It was a text from Solomon, which read: "Hope you're having a good night. Thank Diavolo and I later ;)" You definitely had some opinions about this since if it didn't work out, you might have actually frozen to death. They would be getting an earful tomorrow.

You sighed, not upset nor happy. Of course Solomon did this. Oh well. It gave you the opportunity to see the other side of Lucifer and gave you something to tease him about. Plus, he was really cute cuddly and without it they might actually freeze. (Note to self: Lucifer is the best personal heater!)

The next morning, Lucifer seemed embarrassed with himself. Lucifer stirring had waken you up, so you got to see his initial reaction. He didn't say anything, and got up pretty quickly.

"You're very warm. I might need to borrow you during winters." You laughed as he hurried off to the bathroom without a word. You would never get tired of his charming antics.

[nyctophicbtch]

The Songcord - Neteyam

[ Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader ]

Request: Can I request a Neteyam x Omaticaya!reader

Author’s note: I recommend listening to From Darkness to Light, The Spirit Tree, and The Songcord if you have tissues prepared

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, death

Word Count: 3,101

“Feels like I haven’t been here in ages,” you muttered, hands brushing the glowing strands of the tree of voices. Kiri and Tuk were already immersed in their own worlds, not hearing a thing you were saying. Spider was out exploring on his own, eyeing the sky, the flowers, the tree, and basically everything else.

“Better make the most of it then,” Lo’ak replied, attaching his queue to a strand.

Neteyam was standing near the bark, and it looked like he wasn’t going to join them any time soon, so you followed Lo’ak and did the same.

It had been a while since you’d done this, or had been anywhere near the tree at all. Although there were plenty of excuses to use, you knew you were just scared of what you’d see.

It was moments like these, where you’d hear and see your actual parents, that made you afraid. You had been fighting so long to earn your place here with the Sully’s.

Even though you started off wanting to befriend the family of the person who insisted on becoming your friend, it’d grown into something deeper over time. And every time you looked back to your parents whenever you visited the tree made you realize that you could never have what you actually wanted.

The feeling overwhelmed you, screamed at you until the bond was forcefully broken and you were thrown back off your balance. You didn’t know what was happening, but you could somehow make out Lo’ak’s muffled yelling over your blurry vision and ringing ears.

“Neteyam!”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know!”

“Move!” You felt hands grasping your shoulders, but you were too caught up on trying to breathe to see who it was. It felt like the air was sucked out of you and none of your senses were working properly. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re here.”

There was no coherent thought on what was going on, but you could feel the thumb gently rubbing small circles on your shoulder.

“Shh. You’re okay,” Neteyam whispered, leaning his forehead to yours.

Your shallow breaths slowly returned to normal, and you started to make sense of what was happening. You could start to feel the numbing of your legs from the uncomfortable position, and you could see Lo’ak’s worried gaze on you. You started to hear Neteyam’s comforting words clearer and feel the way he was holding you.

You heard the sigh of relief Lo’ak released when you felt yourself calming down and Spider running towards you, closing your eyes to let yourself succumb to Neteyam’s comforting hold.

He kept his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours for as long as you’d like to assure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. It was only when you felt the numbing of your legs begin to worsen when you pulled away, finally looking at your surroundings.

Kiri and Tuk were still engrossed in their memories and it looked like they did not witness the scene that had just unfold beside them, much to your relief. You didn’t know how you’d explain this to the cheery child.

“Hey, you okay? What was that?” Spider questioned.

“I don’t know.”

They all decided to leave you to yourself and give you time to think, well except Lo’ak who wasn’t going to let it slide that easily.

“What did you see?” he asked as he sat down beside you, leaning his head against a tree.

“The usual.”

“Then why did-“ Lo’ak stopped himself with a sigh before he could interrogate you any further. “Don’t leave me hanging for too long. Talk when you’re ready.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Guys, it’s dark out we need to get back.” You heard Kiri call out from a distance.

“You were the one that took so long,” Lo’ak replied as he stood up, offering a hand to you for support.

“Let’s go, children.” Neteyam rallied everyone, placing a hand on Tuk’s back when she almost lost her balance.

You all ran back from the way you came, anxiousness gripping at each one of you when you saw the sky completely dark, the only thing lighting it up were the stars and moons.

But there was no room to worry about curfew when all you could think about was what had happened back there. Everything happened so fast you could barely process it.

“You coming?” Neteyam’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You looked up to the boy waiting for you, his head turned back to face you expectantly. In a matter of seconds, you regained your senses and jumped up to the branch near him.

Maybe you didn’t really regain all of your senses after all, considering how you slipped on the moss and fell backwards. Lucky for you, Neteyam had incredible reflexes, grabbing your hand before you managed to fall. Being the Olo’eyktan in training had its perks.

“Careful.”

“Thanks,” you muttered half-heartedly.

Neteyam decided he wasn’t going to press you further on it, giving you some space for whatever is going on in your head.

The branches suddenly felt further apart than they were, and your legs felt heavy as you leaped from branch to branch, following the Sully kids.

“Mom’s going to be so mad,” said Kiri as she ran past Lo’ak to catch up with Spider. Poor Tuk was left behind, so you grabbed her hand and matched your pace with the youngest Sully.

“Come on, Tuk,” you encouraged her when you saw the big jump she had to make. She pursed her lips and made a running start before leaping, Neteyam steadying her balance on the other side.

“Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he whispered as you passed him.

You could see the circled-outlines of the moons in the sky, their glow being the only thing that allowed you to see your path, apart from the glow behind the opening in a tree bark that indicated you were finally there.

“And where-“ Neytiri started as Neteyam joined your circle. “Have you all been?”

Technically you weren’t actually family, you thought as you slowly backed away from them. With it being so dark and you standing on the edge of the group made your escape seem pretty easy. Neteyam noticed your movements but didn’t comment on it.

“You too.” You froze in your spot, Neytiri’s eyes trained on you like a spotlight.

You doubted that they saw you as family, but Jake and Neytiri had an odd way of making you feel like it. You had been a little younger than Tuk when Lo’ak had found you, and from there, each day you spent with the Sullys brought you closer to the family. But in times like this, you wished you didn’t feel like part of the family enough to escape Neytiri’s scolding.

-

“Why do they get to do the fun stuff while we sit here? I’d rather join them.”

“Suit yourself. I like it here,” replied Kiri.

Just on time, you stopped your pacing and ran out to the sound of the people shouting for the war party. The scene that greeted you wasn’t what you had initially expected, but it was no surprise either.

You kept your distance as you watched the two boys look down guiltily when Kiri approached, trying to drag the older brother out of the situation.

However, the huge gash on Neteyam’s chest worried you more than anything. His tail was swishing gently, showing the unease he felt.

Eventually, Jake let them both go and you followed them into the tent, and when the boys saw you, their faces lit up.

“Hey,” you approached Neteyam who was sitting on top of a wooden table with Kiri tending to his wounds.

“I’m offended you didn’t come to me first,” grumbled Lo’ak from the corner of the room. He had his arms crossed over his chest stubbornly, and the bright look turned into a sour one.

Although you knew he was messing around, you heard some truth in his words. Besides, it was Lo’ak that had befriended you first, and it was him that had spent his nights up to no good with you when his brother was busy being a good child.

“Missed you too, Lo’ak.”

“Ouch. Can you not?” Neteyam flinched as Kiri pressed into the cut a little too forcefully.

“Do you want me to help?”

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“No I’m not,” she scoffed before pressing his wound even harsher, making him slap her hand away. “Now that was on purpose. You do it, I’m gonna find Tuk.”

Kiri gave you the bowl before exiting the tent. You were never one for healing, but you saw her plenty of times and she knew that. It was usually Kiri that did all the work when her brothers came back all bruised and bleeding.

“It’s fine. I don’t need it anyways,” Neteyam argued and started to get up when you smeared the sap on his cut.

“It’s deep. You’ll get an infection.”

“No it’s-“

“Sit down.” You gently pushed the hand that wasn’t holding the bowl to his chest and Neteyam sat down. He kept his eyes on you as you continued working on him, making sure to be extra gentle.

“I’m still here,” Lo’ak called out, unamused. “This is getting sappy. I’m leaving.”

“How come you’re younger than me and you get to boss me around all the time?” Neteyam started once his brother was out of earshot.

“I’m Lo’ak’s age.”

“And I see him as a baby.”

You sighed, feeling around his head to find any injuries. Neteyam could tell you were distracted and that your thoughts were everywhere but here with him just from the look in your eyes. You’ve been welled up in your thoughts ever since your last visit to the tree of voices, and the change of mood that came with it was evident.

“You okay?” Neteyam finally decided to speak up, wincing when you pressed on a sore spot in his scalp.

“Hmm?”

“You’ve been like this for the past week,” he explained. “Distant.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on. I know you better than that. Lo’ak thinks it has something to do with me and he won’t shut up about it.”

“I’m fine.” You applied the sap with just a bit too much pressure on his head and he grasped your hand in his, bringing it away from his head.

“I won’t tell him,” he started when you finally looked at him for the first time ever since Kiri left. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Neteyam saw your hesitance and reached for the bowl in your other hand to set it down next to him. He lowered his voice, speaking gently as if he was afraid of hurting you. “What happened when we were in the tree of voices?”

“I don’t know. I saw my parents and when it stopped I just panicked and I don’t know why. This never happens. Then I started thinking about your family and how they don’t really consider me a part of their family made me wish I had something like that.” You didn’t even realize the tears were falling until you felt Neteyam wipe the ones that fell to your cheeks. He stood and put an arm around you to bring you into an embrace, allowing you to bury your face in his shoulder.

Every welled up thought and feeling from the past week you’ve tried to shove as deep in the back of your head as possible suddenly resurfaced all over again. Maybe you were too scared to admit it, but Neteyam’s comfort was what you’ve been needing.

“You’re as much of the family as I am,” he softly assured whilst pulling away, tilting your chin upwards with a finger to look at him. “It might not look like it, but we all care. Even mom and dad.”

And then Neteyam did something stupid.

He leaned in to press his lips against yours, his grip around you tightening to pull you closer. You could taste the salt from your own tears as you responded with the same amount of intensity, all the built-up emotions finally pouring out into the kiss.

Your hands reached out to wrap around his neck when you felt his tail brush against your leg, the slow loving movements indicating how blissed out he was.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed in that tent, but when you pulled away breathlessly, Neteyam did the same with visible effort.

“How am I going to tell Lo’ak?”

Neteyam breathed out a small laugh and closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I’m more worried about dad.” At his words, you parted from him anxiously. “Relax. You’re family. If anything, they’ll be more worried about you than me.”

He wasn’t wrong. Jake looked like he was having a panic attack when the two of you told him and Neytiri.

“You want to tell me how this happened?” He pointed between the two of you who looked like guilty kids that had gotten caught stealing. You both glanced at each other hesitantly as Jake grew impatient waiting for an explanation from either of you.

“Neteyam kissed me.” Your voice came out so quiet you weren’t sure whether you’d said it out loud or if you’d only said it in your head.

Jake and Neytiri looked purely out of it. They cast their son a look while he looked anywhere but at his parents.

“Neteyam,” Neytiri warned.

The Olo’eyktan made sure to make the list of rules clear for the both of you. No wandering off too far alone together and definitely no sleeping together, even just next to each other separately. Jake mentioned how he knew it wasn’t uncommon considering how you’ve been doing that since you were children, but now it was off limits. He also mentioned a whole set of other rules and how he would kill Neteyam if the boy laid a hand on you or hurt you in any way.

In a way, the protectiveness they held towards you made you feel welcomed and accepted. It made you feel as if you were actually part of the family. And even more so when they offered you to join them to pursue lands beyond the Omatikaya clan.

Since the only people you’ve stuck to since you were young were their kids, Jake and Neytiri knew you’d be devastated if you had to part with them, especially when you were now attached with their eldest son.

There was no dismissing their offer from your side either. You weren’t going to leave the only people who truly knew you, and you weren’t going to leave Neteyam. Though you had to admit, you missed the forest just as much as everybody else.

“What’s that?” asked the youngest Sully as she peeked over your shoulder to get a closer look at what you were holding.

“A bracelet I’m making for you.” Her face brightened even more.

“It’s pretty!”

“It needs more shells. I’ll fetch some more outside and woah-“ your eyes widened when Neteyam and Lo’ak entered, all bruised and bloody. “What now?”

“Got into a fight with Tsireya’s brothers. They were picking on Kiri. Hey Tuk,” Lo’ak said, ruffling his sister’s hair.

“You too?” You looked at the older brother.

“What? Was I supposed to stand there and watch him get beaten up?”

“I could’ve handled them on my own.”

Neteyam snorted. “No, you’d be with Eywa if it wasn’t for me.”

Lo’ak grumbled his way to Tuk, who looked like she had so many questions for him. He picked up the bracelet you made and twirled it in his hands, earning an angry protest from his sister who snatched it away from his hands.

You were about to leave to go shell-hunting when a thought passed through your head after seeing blood on Neteyam’s lips.

It looked like it hadn't dried up, so you acted on impulse when you approached him and brought your hand to his jaw to pull him into a gentle kiss, making sure to lick his bottom lip where the blood was.

The kiss took Neteyam by surprise, and once he was about to respond, you pulled away, leaving him puzzled.

“You got blood on your lips,” you whispered, tracing your fingers along his jaw before reluctantly letting go.

“Gross, you two. Poor Tuk’tirey’s tainted.” You barely heard Lo’ak’s words as you walked away from them.

The rest of your days were filled with the same routine. You’d learn a thing or two from the Tsireya and then Lo’ak would stir up trouble with her brother and his friends. How they had managed to get along after some time was a miracle.

Everyday was filled with new discoveries of their waters. Tuk would ask to see something new almost every hour, and being the favorite, you’d accompany her almost every time. If you weren’t with Tuk, you’d be sitting somewhere with Kiri. If you weren’t with Kiri, you’d be exploring the waters with Lo’ak, and if you weren’t with Lo’ak, you’d be discovering new places on land with Neteyam.

Today, you were with Lo’ak, and you hadn’t expected that warning his Tulkun friend would turn into something much much worse. You weren’t even sure how it came to this point.

You were escaping the sky people when Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk were taken. It was one thing after the other and the next thing you know, you were trying to keep your composure as you watched Neteyam writhe in pain from a bullet wound in his chest, your palm caressing his jaw to let him know you were here.

It’s okay. He’s going to be okay.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jake voiced your thoughts.

“I want to go home.”

No. It’ll take more than a bullet to kill you.

“I know, I know. We’re going home.”

No. No.

You felt your heart breaking followed by a tear with every sob and pained sound that came out of his mouth.

“It’s okay,” you quietly assured him as your thumb gently stroked his cheek, the first word you’ve spoken coming off as a whisper.

Neteyam glanced your way one last time at your voice before the pain in his eyes turned lifeless and his convulsing body went still.

“No. No, no-“ Neytiri begged and it felt like the air was sucked out of you. “Neteyam!”

You couldn’t even hear your own scream over the ringing of your ears. Everything happened all too fast.

“Neteyam,” you sobbed, cradling his head close.

You can’t leave me. Come back.

:)

[ghosttotheparty]

based on this post by @liightsnow <3

“Lucas, what’s your favourite song?”

“Oh, uh. I don’t know.”

“Figure it out,” Steve says tightly. “And tell me. If we don’t have the taPes we can get some in town in the morning.”

The room is quiet, tense, and everyone knows what’s going through Steve’s head.

Just in case.

It’s almost uncomfortable, all of them sitting around the basement of Nancy’s house, on the sofas and the floor like they’re waiting for something.

“Mine’s Time After Time,” Erica says after a moment. “Cyndi Lauper.”

Dustin snorts.

“Excuse me?” Erica says, tilting her head, and Eddie suppresses a smile, looking back and forth between them. “Why is that funny?”

“Nothing,” Dustin says, shrugging.

“‘Nothing?’ Why’d you laugh then, huh?”

“Just…” The others are all watching too, suppressing their own tired smiles as they bicker. “You’re such a hard-ass, it’s kinda funny that your favourite song’s a romantic ballad.”

“Language,” Steve scolds. Eddie’s smile grows.

“What’s your favourite song, then, asshole?” Erica asks.

“Language,” Steve says louder. Eddie is grinning now, rocking back and forth, looking away from Steve’s scandalised expression to Dustin’s face, which is now flushing pink.

“…Angeleyes,” he admits. “By ABBA.”

There’s a chorus of muffled laughter around the room.

“ABBA?” Eddie questions, making a face, and Dustin raises a finger at him.

“This needs to be a judgement-free zone—“

“You were just laughing at me for Cyndi Lauper,” Erica interrupts, shoving at him.

“That’s ‘cause it was funny.”

“ABBA’s kinda funny, too,” Lucas says, shrugging. Max is next to him, giggling behind her hand, headphones around her neck, and Eddie can’t remember the last time he saw her laugh. Dustin flips Lucas off.

“What’s your favourite song?” he asks, slumping into his seat and crossing his arms, almost pouting.

Lucas pauses, thinking for another moment before he says, “Rio,” firmly. “Duran Duran.”

Steve gives an approving nod, and Eddie rolls his eyes. Figures the jocks would have the same music taste.

“Why?” Dustin asks. Lucas makes a face, tossing a hand.

“‘S a good song, why do I need a reason?” he asks, then leans forward. “Why do you like Angeleyes?” he teases. Dustin turns pink again.

“Makes me think of Suzie,” he says begrudgingly. “Does Rio make you think of anyone special?”

“Shut up,” Lucas snaps, backing off. Eddie glances at Max, whose cheeks are pink she she looks down, still smiling. Eddie’s grin widens.

When he glances at Steve, he’s smiling too, watching the kids fondly. And Eddie is grateful for this moment, for the softness and banter and bickering and normalness, even if it’s brief.

“Robin, what’s your favourite?” Lucas asks, ignoring the way Dustin is snickering at him.

“Uh,” she sighs, looking up at the ceiling, arms around her legs that are drawn to her chest. “Emerald Eyes, Fleetwood Mac.”

“Wait, do we all have the tapes for these?” Steve asks. "I think I have Fleetwood Mac, but..."

“I have Erica’s,” Nancy says. “In my room. I might have Dustin’s too.”

“I have mine at my house,” Lucas says. Steve hesitates.

“I might have it too,” he says. “I’ll check when we stop at mine tomorrow.” Lucas nods. “Nancy, what’s yours? You have it?”

“Yeah,” Nancy says. “I have it, its’s One Way or Another. Blondie.”

Steve nods.

The rooms falls quiet again. Eddie looks at Steve again, at the way he’s sitting on the floor, arms around his legs like Robin. at the way he’s biting his lip, deep in thought. There’s a crease between his eyebrows. He looks too old, not at all like the boy Eddie used to see in the hallways at school. It feels weird to miss him.

“Steve,” he says quietly. Steve blinks, looking up at him like he’s startled. “What’s yours?”

“Uh, Shout At The Devil by Mötley Crüe,” he says. “I have it in my room.”

He’s met with silence.

Eddie finally stops rocking back and forth, staring at Steve, wondering if he really just said what Eddie heard. Steve blinks and looks back at him, then at the kids.

“…What?”

“Mötley Crüe?” Lucas says slowly.

“Yes?”

“Since when do you listen to metal?” Dustin says, and Eddie would go after him for his tone (he sounds disgusted) if he weren’t still frozen, stuck in place.

“Since, like, middle school,” Steve says defensively, rocking Eddie’s world even more. “What’s your deal?”

“I thought you were gonna say something by, like, Wham,” Max says dryly. Steve makes a face.

“Or ABBA,” Erica adds, dodging Dustin’s elbow.

“He listens to metal all the time,” Robin says, and Eddie finally tears his eyes away from Steve to look at her, wide-eyes. “Drives me crazy.”

“You don’t mind Van Halen,” Steve says defensively, leaning forward to look at her, and Eddie’s gaze finds him again.

“I do when I get out of school,” she says sassily. “And I’m tired, and I want a nap, and I get into your car to hear some guy yelling—“

“It’s not yelling, oh my god—“

Eddie’s lips are parted as he looks at Steve in awe as they bicker. He snaps out of it when Steve looks at him, their eyes meeting across the coffee table, and he blinks.

“What?” Steve says, half-smiling like he knows. Eddie shrugs, starting to rock back and forth again.

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” he says lightly. Steve raises an eyebrows. (God, why is that hot?)

“To have good music taste?” he asks, amused. Eddie shrugs again.

“Debatable.”

“The hell do you mean debatable?” Steve says, defensive again. Eddie grins.

“Mötley Crüe’s glam metal—“

“You are so fucking annoying,” Steve says, his eyes wide. “Oh my god.”

Eddie throws his head back with a loud Hah! as a chorus of Language! rings around the room, followed by giggles as Steve makes a face.

“What’s yours?” Nancy asks, kicking Eddie lightly from where she’s sitting on the sofa.

“Master of Puppets,” he says, his smile fading. “Metallica. I have it in my room, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to get it from the trailer—“

“I have it.”

Eddie’s eyes snap back across the coffee table. Steve is looking at him. Earnestly. Seriously. Eddie furrows his brows.

“What?” Steve says. “I have it.”

“Who are you?” Dustin says, and Steve finally looks away from Eddie to glare at Dustin.

“You be quiet, Angeleyes.”

“It’s a good song—“

“For a twelve year old girl, maybe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Erica interrupts.

Their voices turns to white noise. Eddie stares at Steve, his cheeks flushing with heat, and he pulls a piece of his hair across his face absentmindedly, gazing and gazing and gazing at Steve while he bickers with Dustin. Steve’s smile when Lucas joins him in teasing Dustin makes Eddie’s face flush warmer, and Eddie blinks hard, dropping his hair and looking away so he doesn’t combust.

He turns a little bit to find Nancy staring at him, her head tilted, eyebrows raised a little, her eyes shining with amusement even though her expression kind of looks like she’s watching a house fire.

“Unbelievable,” she says after a moment, and his face turns hot, and he knows he’s blushing profusely as he points at her.

“You can’t say shit to me.”

She raises her hands in surrender, wide-eyed.

She gives him the same look the next day when Steve comes back with the tapes. Steve calls, “Eds,” while Eddie is laying upside down on one of the sofa, and Eddie tries to sit up before Steve tosses the tape to him. He manages to catch it, looking at it curiously in a lapse of memory before he remembers just as he spots his name written on the label, slanted and a little loopy in Steve’s handwriting.

He looks up at Steve while Steve walks away to find Robin, and he’s smiling again, and Nancy is rolling her eyes.

“You’re acting like he made you a personal mixtape,” she says when Steve is out of earshot. “He’s getting you a tape so you don’t die a gruesome death—“

“Listen, Wheeler, I’ve been through a lot,” he says, letting his head fall again as his eyes close. holding up a hand to shut her up. “Let me have this, please.”

“Okay, Eddie.”

She’s smiling.

—————————

Without you, my hope is small Let me be me all along

Eddie inhales slowly, feeling coming into his body. He can see bright light through his eyelids, and he feels cold, but something warm is touching his hand.

Let the fires rage inside Knowing someday I'd grow strong

Fingers playing with his, tracing them, running across his knuckles, squeezing and massaging and holding gently. The music that's playing is quiet, like it’s coming from headphones instead of a speaker, and Eddie’s lips twitch into a smile when he recognises the song.

Without you, without you

His hand finally shifts, his fingers twitching, and the hand holding his tightens as weight makes the bed he’s on shift.

“Eddie?”

Eddie exhales, squeezing his hand a little bit and turning his head. The pillow he’s laying on is really soft, and he hears his hair scratch over the fabric.

“Hey, Stevie,” he says weakly. His voice is scratchy and rough and almost unintelligible, and it hurts to speak. He winces. Feeling seeps back into his body, and he groans.

“You okay?” Steve asks softly, and his other hand is touching Eddie’s face, tracing his cheek lightly.

“My whole body hurts,” Eddie grumbles, closing his eyes again.

“Yeah, no shit, moron,” Steve says, but he’s laughing a little, and Eddie snorts, coughing. He turns his head so he isn’t coughing into Steve’s face.

“Fuck.”

“You’re gonna be okay,” Steve says softly.

Eddie sighs, relaxing into the bed as Steve touches his face again, squeezing his hand. His fingertips brush over his forehead and cheek and the bridge of his nose.

But with you in my life You're the reason I'm alive

Eddie slowly turns his head toward the music, squinting in the bright lights of the hospital that reflect off the sterile walls and while blankets that are covering his body. There’s a walkman next to him on the bed, the chord of the headphones tangled as the music plays quietly but loud enough to be heard. Eddie closes his eyes again, smiling softly.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind glam metal,” Steve says. Eddie can hear his smile. “Pretentious fucker.”

Eddie laughs weakly again, coughing.

“I don’t mind,” he whispers.

He turns his face into Steve’s palm and kisses it. And then his face flushes with heat as Steve leans down and presses his lips to his forehead. He wants to hide behind his hair, but he’s too tired to reach up to pull it across his face, and then he doesn’t really want to hide as Steve smiles at him with this softness in his eyes that no one’s ever looked at Eddie with before.

“I thought they were gonna follow us through,” Eddie says quietly. “The— The bats. ‘S why I stayed.”

Steve squeezes his hand.

“I told you not to be a hero,” he whispers.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Steve kisses his forehead again, and then he leans over Eddie, pressing their foreheads together.

“You’re okay,” he breathes, so softly that it seems like it’s to himself.

Eddie sighs, focussing on the pressure of Steve’s forehead against his, of Steve’s fingers twisted around his. He smells like expensive soap, citrusy and warm.

“You wanna go to a Sabbath gig with me someday?” he mumbles. Steve laughs softly.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Cool.”

[vivianquill]

Tango couldn't remember the last time he slept.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd worked on a redstone project either.

That was irrelevant! He was perfectly fine. There was a reason he was down by Gem's docks. Right?

"Tango?"

Speak of the devil and she shall appear! That was Gem herself, pulling Tango around. He didn't want to, there was something about the--

"Tango. Tango, hey." Gem forced him to meet her eyes, "Don't tell me you've been possessed again. After last time? C'mon man, you said you'd. . . do. . ."

Tango didn't know what Gem was talking about. He wasn't possessed. Tango knew what that felt like and that wasn't this.

Gem got an odd look in her eye, before latching her hand around his wrist and dragging him back up the path towards his house. But--

That wasn't home anymore.

Not when his place was down by the water-- in the water-- he was waiting for someone to come back--

"No-- Tango-! Ugh." Gem planted herself between Tango and the mists over the water-- the place where he had promised to be.

Tango found himself sitting at the edge of the dock. There was something tied around his wrist, but he didn't mind. The tips of his boots were dragging in the foam.

"Tango, homie-buddie. It's freezing out here, you should come inside." Skizz had rested a hand on Tango's shoulder.

"Can't you hear it?" Tango asked, breathless as it came back.

The song was promising him the answers to everything. He just had to be here to hear it. To decipher it's song.

"Hear what?"

Tango was fighting against the pull of hands, trying to take him away. His friends-- not friends anymore-- they wanted to take the music for themselves-- "I promised! I promised--"

His mouth was full of the taste of blood. Blood and cotton and he couldn't hear the rush of the waves anymore. He was too warm. There were voices nearby.

"How is he?" Oh, Tango recognized that voice, that was Xisuma.

"Still unresponsive. Is Ren-?" That sounded like Impulse.

"The same way."

Impulse sighed, "He's too quiet. Tango's never been this quiet."

"I'm listening." Tango had to listen otherwise he might miss the music.

He couldn't remember who the music went to, but-- It was someone he needed to be there for. How long had it been? He needed to get back to the water.

Tango was on his feet, trying to push past the arms holding him back. There was a snarl pooling on his tongue, frustration sparking deep in his bones. He needed to get back to the water.

He yelped as someone slammed into his back, knocking Tango off his feet and into the grass. He writhed, kicking, his tail lashing and sparking as he struggled to get free. There was nothing in his inventory. He had nothing but his hands and his fire and the grass around him and they were closing in--

Tango was floating in the bay, Gem's conduit letting him breathe like he should be able to. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, his fire was sputtering, angry about being underwater.

Well too bad fire, cause Tango was right where he was supposed to be.

As evidenced by who was in front of him.

The someone, the who he'd promised to be there for when he returned.

The song wrapped around him like a blanket, smothering the chill from the sea and guiding Tango close. He didn't quite remember where he'd met them before but he knew that this was the right thing.

Until he was out of the conduit's range.

Until the water that was so welcoming before now choked at his air and bit at his warmth.

Until the song that'd promised him everything suddenly disappeared.

A hand hauled Tango out of the water by the back of his shirt, dumping him in a sopping heap on the sand. He spit up half the ocean by the time he was able to breathe again.

He was hearing words, but he couldn't figure out what Skizz was saying. Or Impulse for that matter. The music was gone though.

It had abandoned him and now?

Tango didn't know what to do next.

[tealeavesandtrash]

Wolfstar Mirco Fic - @wolfstarmicrofic prompt: Anger Born of Worry - 511 words

The smell of antiseptic hits first. Remus wrinkles his nose at the overpowering scent invading his head and making his stomach churn. Blinking against the blinding white lights, the room swims into focus.

He doesn’t need to look at Sirius to feel his piercing glare burning into him.

“You proud of yourself?”

Remus stares at him in hazy confusion. He tries to say something but his mouth is too dry, throat too tight to get the words out.

Sirius clicks his teeth in annoyance but pours him a glass of water nonetheless. There’s a disconcerting juxtaposition between his gentle touch as he helps Remus sit up enough to drink and his furious expression.

There’s a rotten taste on his mouth - dead flesh from whatever Moony was hunting.  The water washes away enough that he doesn’t need to lean over the edge of the bed and hurl.

“‘m fine,” Remus manages to get out. 

Sirius lets out a humourless laugh. “You’re fine?” he repeats disbelieving. “That’s how you'd describe this?”

Remus blinks, slowly trying to process and piece together fragmented memories from the full moon. He feels relatively fine, a little fuzzy maybe and his limbs are heavy and numb, but there isn’t any actual pain. He runs over his chest, over a thick layer of bandages. The logical part of his brain knows the pain will come, but he’s too tired to comprehend that at the moment.   

Sirius stands abruptly. The loud scrape of the chair goes straight through Remus making him wince. He can feel the anxious energy rolling off Sirius in waves, knows if they were somewhere less public he probably would have shifted into Padfoot by now. 

“I found you face down in some fucking puddle in the middle of fuck-all-nowhere,” Sirius rants, pacing as Remus’ brain tries desperately to keep up. “Some good fucking morning that was - finding my boyfriend half drowned in mud and his own blood because he’s too fucking stubborn to ask for help. You're so fucking lucky I could track you, if Padfoot hadn’t caught your scent you-” he cuts off abruptly, breath-hitching as the words catch in his throat.

The silence stretches out as Sirius slumps back into the chair like a puppet with cut strings, all his energy disapparating. “We’re not doing this again,” he says quietly, head hung as he stares at the floor. 

“Doing what?” Remus manages, voice rough and raw. 

“Any of this,” Sirius says quietly, finally glancing up to meet Remus’ eye. He looks so tired. “Spending the full moon alone, sneaking off not telling anyone where you’re going. It has to end.” 

“The missions-“

“I don’t care about the missions,” Sirius cuts in. “I can’t keep waiting around, not knowing if you’re okay or if you’ve torn yourself to shreds - I can’t do it.”

Remus swallows thickly. “What are you saying?”

Sirius runs his hands down his face. “I don’t know,” he says quietly, leaning back to stare at the ceiling. “But this is killing me, Remus. It's not fair. I can’t do it anymore.”

[xiaosonlybeloved]

Too Late~ Dazai Osamu

featuring:- PM!Dazai Osamu, gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned), Chuuya (briefly) warnings:- angst, hurt/no comfort, being hostage, mentions of torture in captivity, graphic mentions of blood and violence, major character death, lmk if i missed anything a/n:- im already sighing on looking at the warnings... it IS bsd i suppose.. well here's what im best at again, in a new fandom, so have some angst that is VERY late set some time before Odasaku's death

wc:- 2.5k || masterlist

Not many people knew what it was like to have known Dazai before he joined the Port Mafia. To be one of the few people who had been trusted by him. Keyword being ‘had’- for some, some unfathomable reason, he’d drifted away, leaving you behind, alone. Making you wonder if for some reason he wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

It hurt. It hurt that you could lose him so easily, despite having been with him throughout the years, making sure he knew that you would always be there for him, silently tending to him after yet another attempt. It hurt because you had no idea what you did wrong to push him away. It hurt because he didn’t care anymore, for you, for them, for your shared childhood. 

A fool could have probably known that you shouldn’t have gotten so close to the brunette, that he leaves nothing but a trail of suffering and sorrow in the wake of the people who dared to care for him. You, however, argued that he wasn’t like this before. At all. Again, a fool’s excuse.

Perhaps the Port Mafia had changed him, so much more than it changed you. Because now, he was completely unrecognisable, almost like he was a different person altogether. And you can’t help but dully wonder where the man you once knew almost inside out went, the man who once did his best to stay with you no matter what, when he abandoned you yet again during a joint mission ordered by Mori, citing some logical reasons of why it was better for you to not be with him during a mission. (Like always.) Not even bothering to get your opinion or response, something he never did before joining the Mafia.

You watch silently as the brunette slowly disappears into the horizon, leaving you behind. Again.

That night, as you return to your apartment alone once again, (Bittersweet memories surface in your mind- young Dazai cheerily walking you back home, laughing.), you get the distinct feeling that something is off. You are a mafioso after all, you need to have a keen sense for danger to be alive in this industry. You’re instantly on high alert, even though you look calm as always, with your hands in your coat pockets, ready to pull out your knives in a moment. But you still can’t sense anyone following you. Just to be sure, you take a detour home. 

You take a deep breath at the threshold of your door, relieved to be back here. That sense of danger wasn’t as prominent anymore, and you were dying to get some sleep in an attempt to get a certain brunette out of your mind. You’d deal with whatever the problem was tomorrow- you’d had enough today. You can’t help but smile forlornly as you walk into your dimly lit home-

-And then suddenly you’re falling, falling, into a void of darkness, surrounded by the people you care, by him, hurling words at you that stab you like a thousand knives in a nightmare, and dumbly you realise that you walked right into an ability user’s trap, before the unknown ability takes your consciousness, bringing a silent darkness and pain. 

*********

Mimic. A foreign organisation, a group of extremely skilled soldiers who sought the Port Mafia for unknown reasons. People who are willing to go to extreme lengths to get what they wanted- much like your own boss, really. And the ones who are your captors.

You can’t move, you’ve been chained. You assume that they want someone valuable to the Mafia as a hostage, and apparently you serve the purpose well. And dammit, you’ve been completely disarmed while unconscious, you can’t feel a single weapon on you. You’re alone, too, but there’s definite signs that someone’s been here, multiple times. There’s also an assortment of sharp weapons some distance away from you, and you think its cruel to leave them in your sight but out of reach. There’s no windows or openings either.

Footsteps echo outside the door of the room you’ve been kept in, breaking your survey of the room and your thoughts of escape routes. Two men walk in, dignified. It’s clear that they are war-trained soldiers. One of them stops talking with a grin, as he notices you awake.

**********

They want an individual from the Mafia on orders of their boss. They claim that Mori has been taking too long in making a decision, and they apparently hope their decision to take you captive will either force Mori to choose, or force you to give up the individual’s identity yourself in exchange for your freedom under pressure. But you can’t, won’t do the latter.

Because the individual they want is Oda Sakunosuke, Dazai’s new best friend, and you know damn well that he would utterly despise you if you gave up his identity, if you took away the one who gave him his reason to smile these days. Bitter thoughts cloud your mind, of how he abandoned you completely over some new friends, and you wonder if it would be better to just tell them. But then, your mafia sense kicks in, reasoning that if Mori doesn’t want his identity to be revealed yet, then you're probably as good as dead if you choose for him instead and return alive. (You would later realise that this thinking, too, was planned out by Mori, that bastard.) Your captors let hints slide that they’ll let your absence build up for a while, then let the Mafia know of your being their captive. Hopefully they do something. 

You’ll just have to do your best to get out of those damn bonds by then, or survive till then. This was a very convenient time to wish that Dazai had taught you his little trick on how to unlock handcuffs, you think wistfully.

*********

As it turns out, surviving is an extremely hard thing to do after a few days have passed since Mori was apparently informed about the news of your captivity. Mori still hadn’t responded with his decision. Proof being the various cuts and bruises littering your skin already, a few small bloodstains already on the wall and floor. Not too much. Yet. They were intent on forcing your answer out of you, and clearly wouldn’t mind going to extremes for it.

You did your utmost to not make a single reaction when the knife pierced through your skin again, despite the pain that shot through your body for the umpteenth time. Unfortunately, you were well trained on how to not divulge information in captivity- after all, the Port Mafia really couldn’t risk their insider secrets getting out. 

You were still intent on escaping, on getting out. You still had a flicker of hope in you, that someone would come for you, that he might come for you, despite the past few days proving fruitless. You refused to give up yet. You still believed in him, in them, that you wouldn’t be abandoned so easily by your kin.

‘Such a naive belief’, you would dully think some days later.

********

Hope seemed like such a foolish thing now. You had lost track of time in the room without windows. No idea of how many days or weeks had passed. They weren’t coming for you. Of course they weren’t. You weren’t that important anyways, easily replaceable. Casualties happened often, what did it matter if someone died by being taken hostage? You truly attempted to free yourself, many times. You never succeeded, and each time you only received more wounds as punishment. Your captors were merciless, to say the least.

Wounds. That seemed like a small word to use at this point, with how battered and bruised you were. Your clothes were bloodsoaked, and you’d lost count of the number of scars and cuts you’d gained from your captors a long while ago. You could sense they were getting extremely frustrated by the lack of response. You didn’t mind, you didn’t care. You’d even stopped screaming when they cut you particularly deep- you just didn’t have any strength left in you at all. You passed out a few times from extreme blood loss. You could almost hear Mori in your mind, scolding you to get up already. 

Mori. Of course, everything was probably a part of his heartless plans, fully willing to use any number of pawns for their execution.

At this point, you just wanted to be put out of your misery.

Your wish was granted some time- days?- later.

*******

Dazai was initially relieved when you didn’t show up to your next joint mission. He wouldn’t have to ensure your safety and hide his feelings again. But he’d quickly figured out that something was wrong when you didn’t show up again, and again, and you were nowhere to be seen around the Port Mafia buildings either. He’d gathered up the courage to go to your apartment, but had immediately sensed the ability at the entrance and deactivated it. That was what confirmed it for him, and finally, he allowed himself to feel fear for his childhood best friend. For you.

He was well aware that he didn’t deserve to, after how terribly he treated you in an attempt to protect himself from his emotions. His only defence was that he was afraid of hurting you- he knew his reputation well. But that didn’t matter right now- he had to find you. Except not a single person had a clue of your whereabouts. The only person he hadn’t questioned yet was Mori. 

Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to go beyond the doors of Mori’s office. He was scared. Scared of what he’d find.

Again, that would prove to be one of his biggest mistakes, when Kouyou grimly approached him, having accidentally obtained information about you that she wasn’t even supposed to know in Mori’s office. Kouyou cared for you enough to let Dazai know of your situation.

Dazai felt sick to the core when he saw the single picture attached in the message Kouyou sent him, along with a decision to choose between you and the future-seeing ability user- Odasaku. His heart dropped into his stomach even more when he saw that the last message was a few days ago. What if-?

No. Dazai refused to think of that possibility. He’d track down the source of that picture, he’d hunt them down, make them regret their decision, and he’d get you back. He’d make sure of it. He had too many apologies he owed to you after all, even if they would never make up for all that he’d done. He would.

*******

You were surprised that their boss hadn’t shown up to interrogate you yet. You simply stared hollowly at the walls as the door slammed open and the highest-ranked individual in the facility walked in, knife in hand. 

Not a single piece of information slipped past your mouth, as he went through the routine torture process. 

Time passes, and you can see that he’s grown extremely frustrated with your lack of response. One of the others standing at the door, watching your misery, suggested that he simply kill you and get it over with. It was pointless to keep you around anymore.

‘Finally’ you think darkly. You didn’t think you could hold out for much longer. 

You close your eyes, not wanting to see your killer. Instead, you remember the people you care for, silently apologising to them for giving up. Somewhere, in the background, you hear the distant noises of shouting. Probably some of the other soldiers playing cards or something again.

Despite you willing yourself to not make a sound, a shattering scream tears itself out of your throat when you feel the knife harshly stabbed straight into your heart. Your killer twisted it roughly- another scream, your last- and then pulled the knife out. 

You feel yourself fall forward, double in on yourself, wrists held back to the wall. The agony is excruciating, but hopefully it won’t last long. To you, it feels as if your screams are echoing in the room, or maybe in your mind, and your vision has gone blurry in pain. But then, you realise through your numb haze that your screams do not sound like that- you’ve heard the sound enough.You realize that maybe someone has attacked your captors.

There’s a terrified shout mixed in all the clamor, and its a voice that you would recognise anywhere. ‘But there’s no way’, you think hollowly. No one cared enough to come for you.

Then you feel yourself falling forward suddenly, blood gushing out from your chest, into someone’s familiar arms as your eyes close. The handcuffs are gone. Faintly, you hear a voice- his voice- through the ringing in your ears, saying something unintelligible to you. You can’t understand what's being said, but you struggle to open your eyes one last time to see.

And somehow, Dazai is there, holding you tightly, eyes full of panic and terror, everyone else in the room crushed to the ground. He’s saying something worriedly to someone behind him- Chuuya. You briefly wonder if you’re hallucinating, but decide against it- this all feels too real. This must have been the shouts in the distance.

They came for you. In the end, they came, albeit a bit too late. You feel yourself being lifted, and then Dazai is running out, holding you carefully as if you could break any moment- you’re already broken though. You feel the cool night breeze for the first time in ages, see the beautiful moon again. A small smile rests on your lips as you feel yourself finally fall limp in his arms. ‘He still looks as pretty as before, and maybe, just maybe, he still cares for you’, is what you think.

You shut your eyes again, surrendering yourself to the darkness beyond the agony.

********

Horrified is much too mild a word to use, when he sees your condition. When he sees you being stabbed in front of his eyes, when you fall limp in his arms. The next moments are a panicked blur, Chuuya saying something to take you somewhere, that he’ll handle this place. He runs straight out, towards the Mafia building, towards the doctors, towards the hospital, anywhere, anywhere you can be saved. 

But its already too late, he knows it when you don’t move in his arms anymore, when your bleeding chest doesn’t rise and fall again, and he doesn’t know what else to do apart from screaming in sorrow and fear, because he’s just lost the one person who understood him like no one else, who cared for him like no one else, who he stupidly pushed away, and its all because of him. He falls to his knees, still clutching your lifeless, bleeding body. Your face had a hint of a smile in your last few moments, and that is what finally breaks him. All he can do is cry out apologies continuously, tears freely streaming down his face, for everything he’s done wrong, for how he’s treated you, for being too late to save you.

finallyyy, and as usual, votes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated also lmk if you guys want a happy ending :D

[edgeray]

Arlecchino is a cold person.

(Arlecchino x Reader Blurb)

It's no suprise to anyone. It is simply an objective fact of the matter. She is aware of this. The House of the Hearth is aware of this. The Fatui are aware of this. It's ironic given the nature of her vision, but it nonetheless rings true despite the fire she possesses on her blackened fingertips. She is callous and curt, and underneath her skin there is nothing except frigid ice that envelopes her being like a fitted coat. She speaks with no warmth, acts with the absence of heat, exists in a constant state of cold emptiness--a state in which there is a void inside of her, as if sucking all that is human of her.

Years ago, when she was just a child of the same orphanage she headed, she had naive thoughts of finding companionship, someone who would provide the warmth she sought on lonesome nights. She was barely just an adolescent who dreamed of lying in someone's arms, feel the heartbeat of another so surely, it would remind her that she was indeed alive. For even the briefest of moments, she yearned for someone who would, if not shield, then distract her from the cruelties of this world. She had shed those foolish wishes aside. In the House of the Heart that she was raised in, such notions were admonished, in fact, the wishful thinking was one of the reasons she had nearly lost her life. Never again, she had promised to herself, when she mercilessly beat the backstabber. It was then that she believed when the time came, her tale would end the same way as it began for her: alone. As the years of being a Fatui, then becoming a Fatui Harbinger, hardened her, there was comfort in that view.

That is what she believed in. Until you came.

Iciness wraps her being. It is present in her expression, in her words, in her touch. But that is exactly why she finds solace in your being. Her vision could only grant her a synthetic flame, but, you, you're an everlasting hearth. She melts in your embrace every time she slots herself in your arms, as it feels like a kindling ignited in her heart. It is only with you, that she learns how warmth can be found in.

Arlecchino is a cold person.

It is why you, as a warm one, is perfect for her. You whisk away the most depraved thoughts, ease her of any emotional and mental turmoil, and you do not treat her with the same coldness as the world seems so fond of doing to her. You are her flame, the one that sparks her being and reminds her that she is alive because her heart beats with you, beats for you.

Except you are cold now. It is unfathomable to her how you can be this way when your entire being exists to warm her, but when she touches your skin, you are unbearably frozen. Your body does not tremble like it does when her clawed fingers ever so gently trace your skin. The corner of your lips doesn't quirk up into the usual small smile of yours when she appears in your sight, but they remain ever rigid like the rest of you. Uncharacteristically, your expression doesn't soften with her presence.

You are cold, just like her. And that makes her afraid. Her hand searches for it, prodding your skin for a familiar thumping that is nowhere to be found. You continue to stare at her, unblinking. Here would be the moment where you give her a beaming smirk and you'd cup her face tenderly as if she was glass. And she would let you, because you are her beloved, who has watched her shatter so many times before and wordlessly each shard back together, and it is for that reason that she would lean closer towards your touch.

Because you lie broken in her arms and her hands are stained again with the familiar color of red. Your eyes are glossy and gaze unblinkingly at her. Frozen. Even when you are covered in your blood, you are beautiful, she notes, but oh, so cold that it makes her doubt if you were warm to begin with.

She misses your warmth. Where has it gone? Or has it died along with you?

Her hearth is gone. And as she clings onto your form, her body wracking with a fear and desperation she's never known before, two revelations come to her: that there is no such thing as an everlasting fire, and even after so many years ago, she was right along.

Arlecchino is a cold person. And she will remain always cold.

[katelynnwrites]

the prophecy | laura freigang

word count: 686

warnings: again a for angst

summary: you're in love with your best friend but she's not in love with you. it's not in your prophecy to have a happy ending with her

a/n: the second installation of my 'the anthology' blurbs series

you knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.

but you never stood a chance against your best friend’s ocean coloured eyes, one of a kind personality and smile.

oh god her smile in particular. if her smile were to be the last thing you ever see, you would die a happy woman.

laura’s smiling at you now as she slides into her usual seat beside you, on the bus to the away game.

it makes your heart flutter in all sorts of ways.

‘want to finish the show we were watching? i resisted the temptation to finish the last few episodes on my own.’

‘yeah. thanks for waiting lau.’

‘anything for my best friend.’ she teases.

best friend. there they are again, two words that chip away at your heart every time she uses them in reference to you.

you try to grin so she doesn’t think anything is wrong.

the striker must believe you, like she has every time you pretended because she hands you one of her airpods and expectantly waits for you to connect them to your tablet so you can play the show.

swallowing hard, you do so and she leans her head against your shoulder.

strands of her blonde hair tickle your cheek as you watch the show together.

the bus ride is a couple of hours long and right as it ends, you two manage to finish your show.

‘that was good.’ laura hums in satisfaction.

‘it was.’ you agree.

the rest of your teammates are getting ready to get out of the bus now so german woman begins to get her things together too.

you pack up yours and you’re almost done when laura lets out a small ‘oh.’

‘what is it?’ you ask, glancing up at her.

‘i know we had plans to start another show on our watchlist this weekend but are you okay if we do that next weekend instead? i um, i have a date.'

the german woman blushes pink as she talks and you have to force yourself to keep meeting her eyes.

focusing entirely on making your voice level, you murmur, ‘sure. i hope it goes well.’

‘thanks! you’re the best.’ the striker brightly says.

you let her pass you, to get off the bus first just so you can have a short moment alone.

to compose yourself and desperately try to stop your heart from breaking.

it doesn’t and you find yourself metaphorically on your knees, fervently wishing that the prophecy would change. that for once, just once, someone would look at you and choose you.

someone who wants your company. not your money or your standing as a professional footballer.

just you. for you. let it once be you.

a greater woman wouldn’t beg and a lesser woman would’ve lost hope. but for laura you would keep looking to the sky, deluding yourself and begging.

you would beg her to be yours if you could.

but you can’t. and you’re so afraid that you have sealed your fate by falling in love with her. there’s no sign of soulmates and yet if she isn’t yours, who is?

a greater woman has faith but even statues crumble if they’re made to wait too long. you do not know how much longer you can keep waiting to meet yours.

would you even want your soulmate to be someone who isn’t laura?

being her best friend has given you the tiniest taste of what it is like to have her affection and her love.

though only for a fraction of a moment, like thinking you caught lightning in a bottle.

so it’s gone and all you can do is keep looking at the sky and saying please. hoping against hope that someone will change the prophecy and redo it so that you won’t be in love with someone who doesn’t return your feelings.

who do you have to speak to, to get it done?

because if your destiny is to be alone, while the woman you love goes on dates and maybe even gets married…you’re not sure you can survive it.

[xanvasofxords]

“If anything, you’re the biggest pervert here!”

“Me?!” Natsu snaps, smashing his forehead against Gray’s. “How am I a pervert when you’re the one getting naked all the damn time?!” The ice mage tackles him backwards with double force. The temperature around them simultaneously rising and falling because of the polar opposite magics clashing together.

Lucy assumes it’ll take her thousand years more to get used to them. Just when she thinks ignoring them is the ultimate solution, not even a feet away, a chair crashes into the floor so loudly that she drops her book with a yelp. A vein pops on her head.

“Cut it you two!”

The blonde complains, picking the book up and closing it to glare at them. There’s absolutely no way she can finish the novel like this. She hasn’t had the chance to read it in peace at home- thanks to Natsu and Happy messing around with her all morning. And now the two of them are trying to kill her!

Unfortunately, the boys don’t even spare a look at her as they continue with their fight.

“Oh yeah? Better than looking up a girl’s skirt,” Gray shouts while giving sideways glance to Lucy. “Or shoving a hand down her cleavage!” Both Natsu and Lucy turn their heads at the remark and for the first time in his life, the pinkette doesn’t seem to have any proper response to the raven haired mage’s insult.

Gray takes it as a sign of his victory and takes off his underwear with a shrug, standing completely naked. But nobody complains because the other two people are too embarassed to speak. There’s a long pause before Lucy clears her throat. Gray smirks at the pair.

[weirdenbyferret]

When they fuckin get you

I arrive again with another drawing! This time, fanart for @missterious-figure's swamp things au!!

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

For mad scientist siri and hippie remus: Sirius having a depressive episode bc his work hasn't had much progrssed in such a long time and remus making him go outside in nature and them just having walking and talking abt everything and nothing, racing eachother along the river and colecting rocks and flowers

I'm finally feeling motivated enough to go through these prompts!!

Materpost here :)

"Sirius?" Remus forces himself to sit up out of bed, glancing around for his fiancé.

Huh.

Nothing.

They're used to finding Sirius writing in a notebook on the bathroom floor, or tracing with his fingers on the kitchen table at an ungodly hour. He's even found Sirius asleep somewhere he isn't supposed to be, curled up with notes still clutched in his hand and an open pen drawing lines across his arm. Their eyes flick to the digital clock on his nightstand.

5:18am. Makes sense. It's practically light outside.

Slowly, he slips out of bed, shoving a cardigan and a pair of slippers on. Time to hunt for Sirius.

He makes sure to check all of the usual spots. There's no whiteboard pen on the bathroom tiles, nothing out on the front patio, and the kitchen is empty.

Remus frowns, confused. His bike's still parked, so he hasn't left the house.

It's only when they head down to check the back garden, walking down the hall, that they find him. Over the sound of his quiet footsteps, he catches some breathing coming from the living room.

Ah.

With a nod to himself, he turns and steps into the darkened room.

The only light is peeking through a crack in the curtains, illuminating Sirius. He's on the floor, directly in front of the sofa. His knees are up, arms limp on the floor. For a second, Remus thinks he's asleep. It's only when they move closer that they realise Sirius is awake, staring into space.

"Hey, Sirius. You okay?"

Nothing.

"Love?" He moves to sit beside Sirius, waiting patiently. Sirius'll talk when he's ready.

Turns out, it doesn't take long.

"I'm fine."

The words are hollow, empty. Remus knows Sirius well enough to know that something has happened. Something that's done more than just ruin his night. He's more withdrawn than Remus has seen him at home in a while.

He'd bet his entire life that it's work related.

"Okay," Remus says with a nod. Then, the moment the idea hits, they stand up and extend a hand to Sirius. "Let's go."

For a moment Sirius just looks at his hand, confusion cutting ever so slightly through his apathy.

"Where?"

"A walk. Come on."

"Oh, I'm good-"

"Nope. You're coming with me." Remus shakes their head. He knows Sirius is going to say yes. He always does. He's terrible at saying no to Remus.

Eventually, Sirius reaches out and grabs Remus' hand, letting himself be helped up.

He doesn't say a word, just following Remus out of the bungalow and down the street. Their hands stay linked, as Remus leads him carefully through a few winding side streets, then over a fence.

"Remus, where are we going?" Sirius asks, dutifully climbing over the fence. Remus glances over to the small trail they've gotten to, gesturing vaguely around.

He watches Sirius carefully, catching just a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Good.

With that, the two of them start walking over to the stream. As they pass a few trees, Remus sees Sirius reach out and trace his fingers across the bark.

"I wonder what type of tree that is," Remus muses. They're sure Sirius is going to catch on, notice that it's an obviously baited statement.

"It's actually easier to figure out than you think," Sirius answers. He can't stop himself, and Remus knows that. He loves listening to Sirius' insanely random and well informed monologuing, usually about a strangely obscure topic.

As Sirius explains, Remus occasionally asking a question or two to keep it going, they reach the stream. Remus squeezes Sirius' hand once, before grabbing a stone and watching it skip across the water. A small smile finally finds its way onto Sirius' face.

"Isn't this place how you found our house?" Sirius asks. Remus nods, beaming at Sirius. "You stung by nettles, and wanted to find some, er..."

"Dock leaves," they supply. "Then our place was just... on the way back. It just-"

"Felt right."

A silence settles over both of them, watching the water. Remus can feel the anticipation in Sirius. He's building up to saying something, and Remus is going to wait it out.

"I'm at a dead end. With the project," Sirius says finally. When Remus turns their head, Sirius is still looking out at the waves. "It's like... every route I take just doesn't work." His brow furrows first, followed by his entire face crumbling. Finally, he turns and drops his face onto Remus' shoulder. "I've hit a wall, Remus. It's not even fun to research, right now. Nothing's working," he mumbles, muffled.

Remus doesn't hesitate in wrapping his arms around Sirius. Of course it's about his research. For a moment, Remus just holds Sirius through it, letting him panic for a second. He needs it.

"You can't think about all of this every minute of every day, okay?" Remus starts, gently brushing his fingers up and down Sirius' back. "You won't get anywhere if you don't slow down, love. If you take some time to yourself, you don't know what you'll unlock."

"But what if it just slows everything down?" Sirius asks, lifting his head and watching Remus carefully.

"It won't. Trust me," they say earnestly.

Eventually, finally, Sirius nods once.

"Okay."

"Yeah?" Remus asks, hopeful.

"Mhm," Sirius cracks a real smile, leaning in and pressing his lips to Remus'. "I think I see some forget-me-nots over there, anyway. I would be a shit fiancé if I didn't at least bring some back home, eh?"

They know Sirius still has a long way to go with this project, and they both know it won't be easy on him, but this is something.

Besides, wedding planning is the perfect way to take a break from work, right?

[puppetmaster13u]

Hi, I have fallen deeply in love with your Down in the Deep au. My brain wants to share some thoughts. 

It would be funny if the ectoplasm was just making sure Danny has a better chance at surviving a new environment with basic adaptation, wonky but works. But now, it begins to mimic the "native" life forms of this dimension to get even better and comfortable. The more he explored, depending on who he encountered, his ghost biology goes, "Hmm, I like this; it's mine now," and Danny just keeps evolving until he's like the apex predator, but due to him meeting Sebastian first, it influenced his appearances to stay similar to the first creature he saw. 

Basically, little baby(fish)man until someone provoked him, then 

The people's misunderstanding can go two ways: either Urbanshade gave this kid the worse genetic milshake combo they could cooked up or Sebastian is going around (wiki said a female angler can have up to 8 males).

Or maybe Danny, with his teeth changing to the new diet, gnawed on Sebastian not knowing that he's basically injecting the man with ectoplasm in small doses. If theoretically, the unexplained DNA in him was the Pressure version of ectoplasm but also not (they're both extradimensional materials) he could become powerful or mutated beyond recognition. Months go by, luck won out and Sebastian realizes his tail is inches longer than it was supposed to be, and there seem to be patterns appearing on his body. Meanwhile, the cause of his evolution is still held in his arms, watching his "guardian" freak out.

Thank you for listening to my brain dump

ARE YOU IN MY WALLS-