#the one that should be followed but nobody else except them seem to follow

[amazingdeadfish]

i'm reading 'quest for the skeleton key' again and damn, chief tought that destroy the world was not a big deal so.. they tought/think Macaque trap them in the calabash for nothing? just for an impure world? 💔

Yeahhhhhhh pretty much ｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡.

I mean its not like they realised that straight away, but, they probably realised that at some point. Or more like, they had to realise at some point.

But Mayor is not ignorant. Not in the slightest. They do know what Macaque had his reasons for doing what he did. Macaque quite obviously preferred living over death. Although they do not understand it fully, they do understand that everyone has their own opinions.

It is simply the fact that they believe that Lady Bone Demon's opinions are simply above everyone else's. That her logic is 'right'. But that doesn't mean that they do not understand that everyone else has their own sense of morality.

So anyways, they understand Macaque but are hurt regardless.

[in-the-multiverse]

HotGuy is the bravest, sharpest, most handsomest hero in all of Hermit City. That’s what he’d tell you, anyway. Nobody can agree on what HotGuy is. A hero to some, villain to others. There’s a universal agreement he’s a wanna-be show off of some kind. Him and that pesky bird…

Scar is determined to win over the citys’ hearts (and charitable diamonds) so who better to face off against than King Cleo? With his charming smile, trusty bow, and sidekick CuteGuy, nothing can go wrong!

Coming soon to a theater near you /j

(but these are screenshot style pieces for what I imagine an animated hotguy movie would look like. More ramblings about this au below)

[trailer] / 1

King Cleo would IMMEDIATELY put them in their place like a teacher lecturing the entire class on how they’ve been misbehaving. But that’s no fun right away, so why not let them learn their lesson? >:)

HotGuy and CuteGuy are an iconic duo in Hermit City. King Cleo and Entropy (Cub) are another iconic duo. Whether each team is heroic or villainous depends on who you ask. Even the city residents are split on opinions

Except Bdubs. He runs a podcast spilling conspiracy theories and dragging almost every “hero” name into the mud (his attitude is very inspired by J. Jonah Jameson from Spiderman). He believes they’re menaces and should stay out of the city’s local problems because 9/10 they somehow make it worse. He’s very critical of these 4 in particular, and it doesn’t help that they all like to personally mess with him for the fun of it

Far off in the city outskirts, a living folktale hides in the forest. An amalgamation of creatures that make up one giant monster, and coming across their path is…certainly an experience. They speak in poetry and think out loud, peering deep into the soul of their visitor with just a few words. Sightings are few and far in between, but each interaction is memorable- to say the least. Their name is Joe Hills. A very close friend to King Cleo (but nobody else knows that)

And! an explanation to HotGuy’s mobility aid

With the best high-tech, Scar’s wheelchair can reshape into a mechanical griffin with the press of a button. It lets him take to the sky and hotguy targets! Griffins also have conflicting symbolism, which reflects his persona

Good and Evil. Light and Dark. They’re said to be harbingers of chaos. Mischief certainly seems to follow HotGuy wherever he goes. Be wary of his smirk

They’re also said to be gentle protectors. He shows up to help citizens and tiny creatures alike. With a voice so soothing, any trouble they face is wiped off like nothing (or, ends up feeling a little easier to handle)

Griffins are one of the most remarkable creatures in mythology, their stories told and twisted through generations, but how does the griffin tell his own story?

I’ve got a few ideas I wanna draw so I’ll be posting more of this under #hotguy wotk au

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Prompt: Either Time and Malon have announced they're having a baby or Malon has just had a baby and they're introducing them to the chain when Time finds some big insecurities from one of his boys he doesn't expect; Wild. Thing is, Time (and to an extent Malon as well) is the only parental figure he knows. Any memories of his parents are long gone along with any record of who they might have been so Time acting in a familial manner means a lot to Wild. But he's worried now that the man is an -actual- father that it means he'll be withdrawing that affection from the chain (himself, really) in favor of focusing on his child. Time goes above and beyond to prove him wrong.

Sky glared grumpily at the postman as he delivered mail to everyone. Legend snickered and elbowed his friend, making the usually cheery knight even more sour.

“Chin up, Sky,” Wild chuckled. “Nobody can outrun that guy from what I can figure. At least that’s what the old man says.”

Time didn’t even flinch at his mention. It wasn’t new - he tended to tune out the younger ones what they got rambunctious. But something about the intensity of which he was looking at his letter from Malon caught Wild’s attention.

“Everything okay?” Twilight asked, also picking up on it.

Time glanced at Twilight, eye fixed on the younger man, then back at the letter. Then he closed both eyes and smiled.

“It’s fine,” he said quietly, folding the letter.

“That looks like more than fine,” Warriors noted, wiggling his eyebrows. “What are you hiding, old man?”

“Is Miss Malon okay?” Wind asked, poking his head over Warriors’ shoulder, having been sitting on the ground behind the captain, who had plopped on a stump.

“She’s fine,” Time replied warmly. Then he sighed a little, gentle cheer dashed by a cool, worried gaze.

“That wasn’t very convincing,” Four whispered to Twilight.

Time glanced around at the group, now that everyone had honed in on him. Then he seemed to come to a decision, huffing a little and saying, “Since none of you seem to know how to mind your business, then I’ll tell you.”

Warriors scoffed, “I’ll have you know I am perfectly capable of minding my own business until gossip is involved.”

Hyrule laughed. “It’s pretty funny listening to people’s drama in town, honestly. But I hope there isn’t drama in your house, old man.”

“There isn’t,” Time assured him. “But there will be someone new living there.”

“Is it that Ingo guy you got mad about?” Sky asked, tilting his head to the side.

Time outright laughed. “No, Sky. No. It’s… Malon’s pregnant.”

The group went silent for a long while before it burst into excited chatter. Warriors was the first to congratulate Time, with Sky coming shortly after, followed by Four and then everyone else in quick succession. Wind excitedly asked about baby names, Sky interrogated him about what course this journey might take now, if they should find a way to return to Lon Lon Ranch—

That was probably the point that Wild felt his stomach twist into knots.

He didn’t quite know what was wrong, at first. He congratulated the old man alongside everyone else. This was a great occasion, after all. But Sky mentioning how maybe Time would want to visit Malon really made Wild realize…

Was he going to leave the group now?

Wild… didn’t want him to leave.

It wasn’t that he was particularly close to Time, more so than the others. Wild was closest to Twilight, after all. But… something about the eldest Link was… comforting. Guiding. Wild couldn’t put words to it, except that… it reminded him of… he didn’t know. He just… he couldn’t remember anything. He didn’t know anything. But the Hero of Time became a staple in his life the last few weeks, a father figure of sorts (and he knew he wasn’t alone in this—the worried disappointment that Wind was trying to hide, the way Legend suddenly became aloof as if already distancing his heart from the matter, the way Sky took four steps away from their leader after running up to him to congratulate him—these were all indications of the same sentiment) when Wild could hardly remember any family at all… and he… was going to lose him too.

He supposed the only true constant in his life was Zelda.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t know this journey would come to an end, but he hadn’t expected their group to lessen during the journey. It had been horrifying when Twilight had almost died - now Time was going to just leave them? Leave him?

Wild found he couldn’t speak after his initial words of cheer for the old man, and he started to slink away into the woods. He wandered aimlessly, shivering a little, feeling far more alone than he had in a while. He tried to cheer himself up with some kind of logical argument—even if he does leave, you still have the others, you have your brothers, you have Twilight—but none of it quite filled the hole that was quickly forming.

At least this time he’d have a chance to say goodbye.

Wild eventually made his way back to the camp just in time - Warriors had been readying to search for him, and he didn’t want to cause such a fuss. He avoided Time for the rest of the night, settling in to take first watch as everyone else went to bed.

He hadn’t expected Time to sit beside him.

“Something’s bothering you,” Time said. It wasn’t a question, but it was held in the air like an invitation.

Wild sighed. “I… wouldn’t worry about it. We’ll find a way to get you home, old man. Wouldn’t want you to miss your actual family.”

There was a period of silence, only interrupted by the crackling of the fire. Wild felt a strange ache in his chest, a longing for someone he could no longer remember. He shriveled into himself a little, shoulders slumping, letting time pass by as he looked into the flames.

“Link… I’m not going home.”

Wild didn’t register the words for a moment, still lost in his own mind and thoughts, before he blinked and glanced over at the older hero. “Wait, what?”

“My place is here,” Time explained quietly, almost what seemed gently. “I would never abandon all of you like that. I love Malon dearly, but she isn’t my only family.”

Wild wasn’t sure what to say to any of this, but the hope in his heart couldn’t be ignored, and he burst out, “You’re not leaving us?”

There was something about Time’s expression that Wild couldn’t quite read. The older hero’s eyebrows seemed to relax from their previously stern position, face softening, eye looking Wild over. “No, young one. I’m not leaving. What we will do, though, is turn back towards the town. I want to write to her. I want all of us to write to her. We’ll have to keep tabs on how she’s doing far more often.”

“Why all of us?” Wild asked.

Time reached forward, messing with the teenager’s hair as he smiled. “If I’ve had to parent all of you, then you’re certainly earning the right and responsibility to ensure your new little sister is alright.”

Wild yelped a little at the gesture before laughing a little, swatting Time away. “Sister, eh? You think it’s a girl?”

“Goddess, I hope so. I have enough boys to take care of.”

Wild’s laugh nearly woke the entire group at that remark. When he’d settled, Time smiled at him, laying a hand on his shoulder. The gesture was reassuring, a physical representation on the promise that Time hadn’t spoken. He didn’t need to. What he’d said was enough.

The ache in Wild’s chest didn’t squeeze quite so hard. But he yearned for the contact, and so he leaned forward a little, just a little, just enough to be perceived without invading the man’s space. Time understood the motion for what it was, and he smiled a little more, pulling Wild into a hug. For the briefest moment the champion felt a little silly or embarrassed at the vulnerability he’d just shown, and then he decided he didn’t care - if he truly viewed Time as a father figure then he should be comfortable showing such insecurity around him. He’d done as much with Twilight.

Twilight. Time’s descendant. Between being viewed as a brother by Twi and a son by Time, Wild actually… he really…

He let out a shuddering breath, and Time’s hand swept up and down his back slowly.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Wild actually felt like he belonged in a group, in a team, in a family. He could imagine the Champions smiling at him, and the tears finally did fall.

[sidekick-hero]

the unparalleled and precious @flowercrowngods tagged me to post some lines of an unpublished wip with no context

The sound of someone inserting their key card into the slot is followed by the handle being pushed down. Then the door to the room opens, revealing the lucky guy who will have him for the next two hours.

He’s pretty, is the first thing that comes to Steve’s mind. Tall and slender, with a small waist and very nice arms decorated in black ink. Most stunning, however, is his face. The pale skin a tantalizing contrast to his pink lips, dark hair framing high cheekbones and deep brown eyes that look at him like a deer in the headlights.

Then, the door closes with a bang.

“Guys? There’s some dude sitting on my bed, you might wanna call security. I’ll hold down the door but you gotta hurry.” Eddie’s voice trembles slightly and Steve’s torn between worry and amusement.

Faintly he can hear the other men laughing and Eddie's indignant squeak. "What the hell are you laughing at? There`s a crazy stalker in my room! Probably armed and dangerous!"

"Oh yeah, I bet he has a big gun," Garrett/Gareth snorts, and Steve rolls his eyes at the very obvious, very bad joke. The guy probably thinks he's really funny.

Eddie seems to agree with Steve, even if unknowingly. "Har-bloody-har. Jeff, c'mon, tell me you at least take this seriously!"

This is one of those nights when Steve wishes he was smart enough, or at least ambitious enough to go to college, so he wouldn't have to make money on the side dealing with shit like this. At least most of his clients were easier to deal with, if not as easy on the eyes as this Eddie.

"Eddie, trust me, you can open the door. He's harmless."

"How do you know?"

"Because he's your birthday present!" Freak interrupts, clearly losing patience. "Gareth's right, we should have just made him put a bow on his dick and be done with it. At least then we wouldn't be standing here arguing."

Steve wonders if they know he can hear every word they say. Like everyone else in the surrounding rooms, because they're not exactly quiet. He just hopes nobody calls the cops.

"He's... What the fuck? You can't just give someone a person, that's human trafficking!"

Obviously tired of making a scene outside a hotel room, Jeff just opens the door and pulls Eddie inside, trusting the others to follow. They do, closing the door behind them, and then they all look at Steve, who is still sitting on the bed, regretting all his life choices that led him here.

He gives a little wave with his fingers. "Surprise."

Eddie blinks at him, speechless, his mouth slightly ajar. Despite the situation, he remains unfairly attractive, his wide eyes stirring something in Steve that he hesitates to explore further. Steve's knowledge of Eddie is limited to his questionable choice of friends, yet he feels an inexplicable urge to shield him from the world, to keep him safe. The urge is unexpected in itself, but even more so in the intensity with which it hits him.

"This is Steve," Gareth introduces, stumbling over his words. "And, uh, well, he... yeah. Guys?" Gareth glances around, hoping for support from the others, but they remain silent. Steve rises from his spot on the bed and approaches Eddie.

As he stands before him, Steve is enveloped in a mixture of clean body spray, shampoo, and a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. Eddie's eyes, even larger up close, hold a warm hue that is captivating. Steve flashes a smile, aiming for a blend of reassurance and flirtation.

"I'm Steve, and for the next two hours, I can be whatever you need," he declares, though technically, twenty minutes have already elapsed. Nevertheless, for Eddie, Steve is willing to make an exception.

tagging with no pressure, only appreciation: @starryeyedjanai, @thefreakandthehair, @hbyrde36, @runninriot, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation, @steddieas-shegoes

[weneeya]

oblivious in love w/ geto m.list | rules

note. yes, it's Suguru once again, but I had a special request from my bestie and I can't say no to her, so here we are! as we say "le peuple réclame" and so I'm here to deliver :) do not hesitate to request anything <3

You and Suguru were almost like a couple who had been married for seven years. Almost, because first you were teenagers, and second you two weren’t even in a relationship. You were part of the same friend group, spending a lot of time together with the rest of the group ; but you were always glued to each other. It was like you both would die if you haven’t had any physical touch. 

Today was no exception. You were sitting in a cafe with Suguru, Shoko and Satoru, talking about a lot of different things. Suguru was sitting next to you, playing with your fingers while your hand was resting on his arm. Nobody was reacting anymore, it was usual. Both of your friends were well aware of the feelings you had for each other, even if none of you seemed ready to admit it to the other. 

Suguru came closer to your ear, whispering something that made you chuckle slightly. Satoru and Shoko exchanged a look, before they both rolled their eyes. It was always like this, and they started to get tired of it. The look they exchanged meant one thing: at the end of the day, you and Suguru would be together. 

They really took their mission at heart, the hardest thing being to separate you two so they could talk to you in private. Shoko claimed an excuse about needing your opinion on something, bringing you away from the boys, leaving the two best friends alone in the street. Satoru turned around to face Suguru, looking from above his glasses with a smirk on his lips. 

“Sooooo, about you and her?” he said, not even trying to hide what he wanted to do. Suguru looked at him with a frown, apparently not understanding what he was implying. Satoru couldn’t believe it ; he seriously didn’t realize? It must have been a joke. 

“You’re being serious right now? Everyone thinks that you are together!” Suguru opened his eyes wide, and he quickly looked away, feeling the top of his ears burning slightly. “For real? But like, we’re just-” Satoru sighed heavily, not letting him finish his sentence. “You’re not. I know how girls work, and she’s thinking about being more than friends!” His words left Suguru perplexed, lost in his mind. 

At the same time, Shoko was still bringing you away from the boys. She finally stopped after a few moments, and you looked at her, waiting for an explanation. “I needed to talk to you, and I don’t want them to hear us,” she said with a grin, and you slowly shook your head. She should have told you, you wouldn’t have hesitated to follow her. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, and Shoko’s smile widened so very slightly. “I wanted to talk about you and Suguru. Are you guys hiding anything from us?” You seemed a bit surprised by her words, not getting what she meant. “What? No! We’re friends, just as always.” Shoko sighed, shaking her head. “You’re lying to yourself girl. No boy is this clingy to a simple friend.” And with those words, she left you alone with your thoughts. 

At the end of the day, you and Suguru were walking alone to get back to the dorm ; Satoru and Shoko apparently had something else to do. You were both pretty silent, which was unusual. You always had so many things to talk about, and the mood seemed off. You finally decided to break the silence with a sigh, turning your head to Suguru next to you. 

“Do you think that we are more than friends?” you finally asked after gathering all your strength. Suguru looked at you, a bit surprised to notice that you were silent for the same reason as him. “Do you think that we are?” he answered, and you both stopped to walk. You stayed like this, looking into each other's eyes without saying a word. All your memories together seemed to come back, making you realize what was happening. 

You quickly looked away, feeling a blush over your cheeks ; and Suguru felt his heart racing in his chest. He never realized how you made him feel before, but now that he was thinking about it: you were always creating a mess inside of his heart. He softly grabbed your hand, leaving a kiss on its back before looking back at you. 

“I think that… No, I know. I love you,” he smiled softly and you felt your knees getting weaker, “I have been for quite a while now.” You grabbed his hand, a bit hesitant, before your grip tightened slightly. You weren’t looking at him, feeling like you were going to explode. “I love you too,” you finally answered, almost in a whisper. 

Suguru’s eyes shined bright, and his smile widened a bit. He brought you closer to him so he could hug you. He hid his nose in your hair, eyes closed as he let your perfume take his mind away from here. Your hands rested on his back, and you felt your heart becoming lighter. It was like you needed this for a long time, and you were finally feeling complete. 

Shoko and Satoru were looking at you from behind a bush. They giggled when they saw you two hugging, high fiving each other in silence, proud of what they had done. Seeing you accepting your feelings for each other was a real accomplishment for them.

it's longer than what I expected lmao once again suguru got me carried away

[adventuringblind]

Viva Las Vegas

Landoscar x Reader

Genre: Fluff? Crack? Idek...

Summary: Two boys can't get a hint, and the female in the middle is just waiting for them to make a move. Preferably with her ending up between them.

Warnings: spicy, kind of panic attack? Allusions to sex, alcohol consumption, mentions of Lando's crash, and him being on pain meds.

Notes: Reminder that my requests are open for the 1000 follower celebration! Also, a certain someone put this idea in my head so now you all have to suffer.

Masterlist

Being the baby of the paddock really hadn't been that bad. A year younger than Arthur and having to put off with Charles was never on her top list of things she wanted to do, but she managed. Followed him around races like a lost puppy.

She was a perfect angel. Kind of. Not really, but she put on a good face when in public. Charles' perfect baby sister.

Lando Norris got to see a whole other side of her. The side that the cameras and public don't see.

The side that takes risks and tests the limits. The one nobody else has managed to pull out of her. The one Lando seems to make being so incredibly easy.

Charles adores the two of them. Lando would never hurt her. He may be impulsive, but he's loyal to a fault.

A couple of years later Is when Oscar comes along. Lando's new teammate. It's awkward for exactly two months into their work together.

Lando didn't like what happened to Daniel. He was still upset about it when word got out that Oscar had signed. It didn't feel real at the end of the year.

Then something shifted. Maybe it was the shared frustration of such a horrible start to the season? She may never know. But one thing is certain and it's that they like each other.

Oscar likes Lando. Lando likes Oscar. They both like her, and she loves them right back.

Yet she could not, for the life of her, forgire out why neither of them is saying anything about it. One can really only handle so much sexual tension before they explode. The sweet moments between the three of them. The fact she has attempted to get the both riled up with nothing to show for it except what Lando does to her later and Oscar's stupid smug face just playing alone with sarcastic jokes.

They are going to be the death of her. The two of them are attached at the hip, and she's excitedly making popcorn thinking it's going to turn into a romantic comedy. It doesn't, and she would like whoever is directing the movie to hurry the story along.

Both her and Lando are getting under his skin, and it's evident in every interaction they have. She takes it upon herself to invite Oscar everywhere with them.

They are happy all together. If they would just stop being so oblivious it would be perfect.

Then Vegas happens. The place where memories are made and forgotten. Lost in the music, lights, and alcohol.

The car isn't the best here. Both boys are frustrated. Lando crashes, and Oscar manages, but it's written on his face that he's disappointed with himself.

She goes to Lando at the hospital. Then, when he's released and thoroughly medicated, they head back to the paddock.

He's hilarious. Lando and his already unfiltered mouth are just saying everything. Including every feeling he has ever had for both her and Oscar. It started fine and then escalated Shortley after to the point where Jon had to promise he wouldn't ever mention it.

Oscar runs through media duties with an unholy speed. He looks relieved when he finds the two waiting around by his door because Lando didn't want to go to his own.

"I'm sorry it's been a lame birthday weekend." Sighs the Aussie who has collapsed onto the sofa.

"Well- it doesn't have to be."

Should the two not on any kind of medication used their clear judgment? Probably, but who are they to deny Lando?

They did decide on keeping it chill and just to go out for an hour or two after Lando at least napped off some of the meds. Neither of the sober minds had any intention of mixing alcohol with whatever Lando was on.

The Brit looked so excited to be out with them. He openly expressed he didn't need anybody else because his two favorite people were already with him. Oscar replied with a smile. She's going to have to force them to kiss at this rate.

Somewhere between three drinks in and Lando sipping on something not strong came blurred confessions. Whatever Lando had told Oscar he was drinking definitely was stronger than he'd made it out to be.

Her boyfriend keeps throwing her mischievous looks and suggestive eyebrow raises. What kind of game is he playing at? She would love if he let her in on it.

But alas, Lando does not, and she is left to her drink and her mind as she watches the two refuse to do anything about the tension they are creating. It's getting far too much for her. She either needs Lando to make a move on Oscar or to come help her because her imagination is going to places.

Somebody does kiss her, but it's not Lando. She would be concerned if Oscar hadn't just moved closer to her.

Everything goes fuzzy after that.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning is met with ridiculous hangovers and a cramped position on the couch.

The couch? How on earth did she end up here? More importantly, why is Oscar using her like a blanket and Lando a starfish on the floor?

Her breath quickens. Something must have happened for them to end up here. She pulls herself up and almost passes out in the process. She would like to - no - needs to remember what happened. She finds her phone laying on the counter and opens it.

Her hand hits the counter and there it the sound of metal hitting granite. She shakily moves her hands into view.

Of all the stupid and impulsive things, she could've done, it had to be getting married in Vegas and being too drunk to remember it. Looks like George, Alex, and Lily were there, the three people who really should've stopped her.

But it's not that realization that makes her finally curl up on the ground, It's the name on the certificate.

Oscar Piastri.

She can hear both boys starting to stir and wake themselves up. The light hitting their faces drawing them back to the land of the living. Into what has become her nightmare.

She ducks behind the counter.

"What happened last night? My head is killing me and- why are you on the floor?"

"Well, we all started on the couch and then I needed water, couldn't find my spot again so I just stayed on the floor."

There is a pause. "What do you mean 'we all'?"

"The three of us? You know, it's bad not to sleep together on the night of your wedding."

There is a string of mumbled words from Oscar that she can't make out. "Seeing as I married your girlfriend, you seem way too happy about this."

"Mate, you were literally trying to fuck both of us last night and then went on this rant about-"

"Okay! I get it! No need to embarrass me more."

Lando is laughing hysterically. "I was wondering if you were ever going to do it. I was getting worried about your wife having a stroke if we didn't do something about this. She talks in her sleep you know."

She squeaks and then covers her mouth. She curls further into her hiding place, but it's no use. They boys find her and join her on the floor.

"You been awake long, love?" How can Lando be so gentle at a time like this? Like she hadn't just betrayed him! She stares in disbelief and then shakes her head no.

It looks like Lando is about to say something else when there is a knock on the door. He gets up and opens it to Charles and Max. The former of which is yelling in French.

"Looks like you guys also had a rough night." Lando is keeling over laughing which inevitably puts him back on the floor.

"What do you mean?" Max is standing there looking completely sober.

Lando is in tears at this point, and nobody understands what he's laughing at. "The matching rings, mate? Do you not remember getting hitched right after your sister?"

There is a set of identical screams followed by more frantic French.

"Speaking of that..." Max turns his attention to the little Leclerc and Oscar. "... You going to explain this one Lando? I remember this still."

Lando then blushes, and it looks like he considers running. "So listen - I may have talked you two into getting married." There is this innocent smile on his face that makes her jaw drop.

"This was you?! I'm panicking for nothing?!" She trails with French mumbling, and Charles joins in with her.

They look through pictures for a while and get water into their systems before Max and Charles go to leave.

"So, are you two going to get a divorce?" Oscar looks at Charles and Max who shrug.

"Maybe, but who knows? Maybe it'll come in handy some day."

"I knew you guys were fucking! Lando you own me now."

"How did you know?!"

"Little sisters know all, dear brother."

When it's just the three, a tense silence false between them. "So, what now?" She finally breaks. No longer able to handle the staring.

"We get a lawyer?"

"Or, hear me out, we keep it. We can always do that later!"

It's true, really. This a backward way of confessing, but it's not like they don't want to be together.

"Then Lando needs a ring also!" They laugh.

The Brit gets a hold of the certificate and finds a marker to write his name on it. "I fixed it."

Then he looks at the other two. Bright smiles on all of there faces.

"Shall we consummate the marage?"

[brooooswriting]

hi!! could i request a leighton murray x reader where leighton and reader are friends and they’re at a party with the rest of leighton’s roommates but reader notices that leighton doesn’t seem really into it so she pulls her aside and it turns out that leighton isn’t feeling well (just like a stomach bug or smth) and reader takes her home and just fluff and stuff ensues? tysm!

I'm here for you

The fact that Leighton didn't really drink anything while pregaming was what should have ticked you off. But you didn't really think about it as you just thought that she might want to get up early.

“Alright, let's go everybody?” you hyped the other four up when you wanted to leave. Everybody, except for Leighton jumped off the couch to grab their jackets and get out of the dorm.

“I just gotta get something from my room, you guys can already go. I'll catch up” she told you guys as she carefully stood up. You've never been a fan of leaving anyone behind so you gave the others a nod, sending them their way as you waited for the blonde.

“You didn't have to wait you know,” she told you as she came out of her room, a jacket wrapped around her. Her face was a bit paler than normal but nothing that really concerned you.

“I wanted to. Couldn't leave a pretty girl like you behind” you “joked” which made her giggle as you walked out of the building.

“So you would have left me alone if I wasn't that pretty?” she jabbed making you laugh this time. The moment you arrived at the party you were pulled apart, Leighton was summoned by her roommates while you were summoned to play beer pong. It was about an hour and a half later that you finally saw her again as she stormed past you towards the bathroom. There was something in you that told you to follow her, so you quickly brushed past the other guests to not lose sight of her, your cup long abandoned.

“Leigh, you alright?” You asked as you knocked on the bathroom door. You could already hear her throw up which made you just open the door to hold back her hair. “Shh, it’s alright” you mumbled as one hand held her hair while the other one rubbed over her back to sooth her as best as you could. Once she was done you grabbed some paper and handed it to her with a comforting smile on your face.

“How’d you know?” She just asked as she wanted to sit on the dirty ground. This alone was a big ass warning sign, normally she’d never touch that floor. So you were quick to pull her up and sit her on a towel, which you really hoped was washed.

“You barely drank anything, I saw you swallow a pill, your face is pale and you’ve been wrapping your arms around your stomach every now and then, plus I just know you” you explained as you brushed some hair out of her face. It felt like the blonde really needed comfort as she immediately leaned into you, her head resting on your shoulder as one of her arms wrapped around you. If she didn’t look so miserable this would be your dream. “Let’s get you home huh”

“No, it’s alright. Plus, I can’t go out like this, everybody will think that I drank too much and that would ruin my reputation” she gave you a tight lipped smile as she tried to move away from you but you were quick to pull her back.

“Would I ruin your reputation?”

“What?”

You shed off your signature jacket and wrapped it around Leightons shoulders after pulling out some gum for her. “We will just leave together and people will think we are up to other things” you explained as you ruffled your hair up a bit.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna ruin your fun and your chances with everyone else” her heart fluttered at the thought that other people might think that you’re leaving together, but she knew that you don’t feel the same and she didn’t wanna ruin your chances. What she didn’t know was that your heart fluttered just the same and the thought.

“There’s nobody as important as you, so if you’re alright with it; I’d be happy to take you home” you extended your hand to her, before fixing her mascara for a bit. Once she looked half decent you opened the door and pulled her out. You wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into you so she could hide her face in your neck.

After you said goodbye to her roommates you walked out of the house and a bit further before you loosened your arm around her waist. “Thanks” she mumbled as she pulled away a bit. You gave her a small smile and a nod as you made your way towards her dorm. “You don’t have to stay here you know? I don’t think that spending the night with an ill me is what you want” she said as she leaned against the doorframe, it was obvious that she was lacking her normal strength.

“Actually, it’s exactly how I want to spend my night” you told her as you brushed past her, pulling up your sleeves to get out a bucket and everything else the blonde might need while she still stood in the doorway and watched you. She knew that you knew where everything was, you were there often as you got along with all four of them but the way you cared for her was just something else. “Well, go on. How about you go brush your teeth while I get you some stuff and change and then we can watch a movie?” You suggested when you saw that she was still standing in the same spot.

She gave you a nod and walked off to brush her teeth with your jacket still wrapped around her while you quickly walked out to get the crackers.

15 minutes later you came back to find her sitting on her bed, a hand on her stomach. “Alright, I got some crackers, some ginger ale, pills for your stomach, water and I didn’t know if you had a hot water bottle so I thought I’d just bring mine. Here it’s already filled” you put everything except the hot water bottle down next to her. “If you need anything just tell me” you added and walked over to sit on Belas bed. The girl texted you and told you that she was sleeping over at Eric’s so you could take her bed if you wanted.

“Where are you going?” Leighton grumbled, her brows furrowed as you walked away from her.

“Bela said I could take her bed since I don’t wanna leave you alone” you explained while plugging your phone into her charger.

“You promised me a movie I believe” it wasn’t hard to figure out that she wasn’t cool with the fact that you walked away from her. So, with a small giggle you got up and gave her a sign to scoot over to make space for you.

“Well, here I am. What do you want to watch?” Her laptop was placed on your legs, Netflix already opened as you scrolled through the options you had while the blonde got settled into your side. Her head rested on your chest, one of her hands under her head while your arm was wrapped around her waist to stabilize the bottle that was pressed against her stomach.

Once you decided for a movie you could feel her starting to fall asleep, her face still pale but now adorned with dark rings under her eyes and a bit of a Fever .

It was around two to four hours later when you were awoken by a turning and tossing Leighton. The way she moved already gave you a clue of what was going to happen, so you quickly picked up the bucket and held it up, ready for her to use if she needed to. But it seemed as she woke up early enough as she jumped up and ran to the bathroom with you on her heels. “You don’t have to stay, this is disgusting”

“Shut up”

Again and again you sat on the floor next to her, caressing her back and holding her hair while she threw up. You’ve barely slept three hours the whole night, you spend more time on the bathroom floor than in the bed but as long as it helped her you were alright.

It was around 10 a.m. when you woke up again the next morning, the sound of her roommates could be heard through the wall. Leighton was still dead asleep with her body pressed against yours, but at least her fever went down over the night. Shortly after you woke up, there was a knock on the door, followed by Whitney and Kimberly opening the door. “Hey, we are going to the cafeteria, do you want us to bring you something?” They asked as they tried not to stare at the two of you too much, Leighton cuddling with someone wasn’t something they saw every day.

“Uhm” you thought for a moment, “no, thank you. I’ll let her sleep for as long as she needs to and then I’ll get something that is more stomach friendly than whatever the cafeteria is serving us” they laughed slightly before nodding and saying goodbye, leaving you and their roommate alone again. Without thinking you started to brush your fingers through her hair, trying to sooth her in her sleep. But it actually did the opposite as she slowly awoke from her slumber, her arm around you tightening a bit.

“How are you feeling?” You asked once she was kinda awake. She grumbled a bit as she sat up.

“Better, I think something from the cafeteria was bad” she explained and rubbed her eyes while still leaning against you.

“That’s great to hear. Do you wanna eat something different than crackers? I could get you something” you rubbed her back for a moment before worrying that you were overstepping any boundaries now that she wasn’t ill anymore and didnt need any comfort.

“No, thank you. I think I will stay at that” you gave her a nod and handed her a water bottle as a reminder to drink.

“If it’s alright I’ll get ready real quick. If you want, I can come back” she looked at you as you stood up and stretched a bit. She didn’t want to keep you here if you didn’t wanna be here, especially after you had to spend the whole night next to her who was throwing up.

“If you want we could finish that movie” you agreed that you’d come back after showering and getting dressed before you took off. You were happy that she wanted you to come back, it made you feel like she wanted to spend time with you.

While you were off to get ready Leightons roommates came back to find her on the couch in the common room. “Hey, it’s great to see that you’re better” Bela said as she fell onto the couch next to the blonde. But she didn’t answer or react to any of them as she just stared of into the air. “Leighton?” She asked again making the girl look at them.

“Am I Tiny Tim?” She suddenly asked confusing all of them. They were silent as they hoped that she’d explain it herself. Tiny Tim was something that they knew, especially after Kimberly and the dude next door, but they weren’t sure what she meant with it. “Am I tiny Tim to y/n now?” She clarified while playing with her hands.

“Why are you thinking that?” Kimberly asked, a comforting hand placed on her back.

“Cause last night she had to leave a party for me and then sat on the floor next to me while I threw up like six times” she explained, a frustrated look on her face.

“You threw up six times?” Bela asked disgusted, making Whitney throw her a glare.

“The way I see it, she was happy to take care of you. I mean she’d head over heels for you and I don’t think that you throwing up is going to destroy that” Whitney stated. She knew how Leighton felt about you and she could see the way you look at her, it was pure love and adoration. If the blonde throwing up was destroying all that than she didn’t believe in love anymore.

“She’s not head over heels for me” she argued, a small grin on her face as she hoped that what the football player said was true.

“Oh please, just think about the crackers” Bela argued, which confused Leighton.

“What about the crackers?”

“Dude, that girl ran or walked to the next 7/11 just to get you the crackers you liked. And that at like 1 am or whatever” Bela explained, slightly hitting her shoulder as a sign to start thinking.

Leighton was more than confused, she specifically remembered you saying that you had those at home. “No, she had them at home. She specifically told me” she said.

“Must be wrong. When Eric and I went home we met her and she came back with a bag filled with those things. She told me that they were for you” there was a moment of silence as everybody gave her a moment to Come to terms with what Bela just said.

“But why didn’t she tell me?” It didn’t make any sense to her, it was a nice thing to do. So why lie?

“Looks like you can ask her that yourself” Kimberly whispered to the blonde as she saw you enter the room again. You greeted all of them, before settling on the arm rest of the couch next to Leighton.

“How are you feeling Leigh?” You asked with a smile on your face, happy to see that she was feeling better.

“Good, thank you” she started and then looked around to get any kind of affirmation of her roomies. All of them nodded which made her take a deep breath before speaking again. “Can I talk to you real quick?” You followed her into hers and belas room.

“Why’d you lie to me?” She suddenly asked making you choke on your spot.

“What do you mean?”

“The crackers. You lied to me about them, you didn’t have them at home. Why?” She asked again, this time more serious.

“Leighton, come on” you tried to make her let it go but she was persistent which made you sigh. “You already felt bad about me staying and taking care of you, what would you have said if I told you that I ran to 7/11?” You explained, hoping that she’d now let it go but you knew Leighton to well for that.

“I would have said that you’re stupid and you shouldn’t have. I mean why would you do that?” She looked at you expectantly to make sure that you knew that she wanted an answer.

“Because I wanted to. I like taking care of you”

“Why?”

“Because I like you, you idiot, laying in bed with you, even when you’re ill and throwing up is better than any damn party. But you’re too stubborn to realize that Leighton” there was a moment of silence. You already saw yourself being kicked out of their dorm and having to change colleges so you’d never have to see them again.

But just before you were about to leave the room Leightons normal cocky smile returned. You sighed in relief, even if she didn’t feel the Same you guys would be okay.

“Take me out tomorrow and then you can lay in bed with me without me throwing up” she said making you giggle and nod.

“Can’t wait” you winked at her before opening the door causing three people to fall into the room. “I believe these belong to you” you laughed as Leighton hit her forehead with her hand.

“Can we watch the movie at yours?” She asked, a slight blush on her face just out of embarrassment. You nodded and extended your hand.

Ten minutes later you sat on the couch in your apartment, the tv playing Leightons favorite movie. You had your arm wrapped around her shoulders while she was leaning into your side. If Leighton had known that her throwing up was all it needed she would have done that forever ago.

[watchyourbuck]

“Is this… turning you on?” if it sparks joy 👀👀👀 xx

Buck was a little shit.

He kept shoving the whole spoonful inside his mouth and licking it clean, swirling his tongue around it like nobody’s business.

Drops of ice cream were spilling over the corner of his mouth, and going down his chin, to which he simply made throaty little sounds to, before wiping them off with the back of his hand.

Yeah, Buck was a little shit because he knew exactly what he was doing.

From across the table, Eddie stared at him with god given patience, breathing heavily and following his every move.

He had made him promise him that he wouldn’t touch him. That he’d only watch.

Thing is, they weren’t alone.

Submerged in menial conversation, Bobby, Hen and Chimney filled the rest of the seats around them. They barked and laughed and told stupid little jokes Eddie couldn’t bring himself to laugh at.

Somehow, none of them had realized something was off — except for Buck, of course, who was on his second bowl of Ben & Jerry’s.

“That’s what I said to him– ‘do you even work here?’, and he started panicking!”

Out of context, Chim’s words made no sense, but even if Eddie was uh, focused on something else, he was well aware that they were all making fun of their new probie.

“We should cut him so slack,” said their Captain, fooling absolutely no one. “We don’t want the guy to hate us.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, his gaze flickering only for a second to where Bobby sat, clutching his belly in laughter. Ravi was probably terrified of them all by now.

With a mild clink, Buck attracted Eddie’s attention back to him. He had an eyebrow raised, and he was frozen in the middle of his performance, waiting for his man to concentrate.

Eddie’s ears turned red. He glanced at their friends before straightening up in his seat, trying his best to hide the hand he was using to adjust himself every couple of minutes.

“I’m pretty sure he thought I was a man,” said Hen, to which Chimney doubled over himself to in silent laughter. “He saw me from behind!”

“How- how did he- ? Oh my god,” cackled Bobby, barely getting through the sentence. A tear was forming on the corner of his eye.

They hadn’t laughed like this in a minute.

In hindsight, Eddie would have loved to be a part of the conversation but Buck wouldn’t let up.

The tip of his tongue was now expertly tracing the metal, and although his head was turned to the side, his eyes were still on Eddie.

Dear god. This man was a monster.

Eddie closed his own, exhaling carefully. Both his hands were on his knees, turning white from the grip he had on them. He couldn’t let his will be broken. Not like this, not so embarrassingly easily.

He looked up, only to find the spoon had been replaced by one of Buck’s fingers. His index.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it- isn’t that the one he uses to open you up?

Jesus fucking Christ.

Buck smirked, withdrawing his finger from his mouth with a low pop, specifically made so only Eddie could hear. “Is this… turning you on?” he mouthed, the words trapped in the back of his throat.

Eddie wasn’t the best lip reader, but that he got. “You’re an animal,” he mouthed back, short of panting on the table.

Buck smiled, a little too brightly. He pushed the bowl away from him, earning himself the attention of their friends. “Okay, I think Eddie and I have uh-, a pending discussion. If you’ll excuse us.”

With that, he stood up. He must’ve known his words were as suggestive as they got, but he didn’t seem to care. He looked at Eddie and let out a small ‘c’mon’, before extending his hand to him.

Bracing himself, Eddie mimicked his moves, standing — bent forward, of course, as he didn’t want to poke anyone in the eye —, then grabbing his hand with more need than he wanted to admit.

Hen scrunched up her face. “Guys, c’mon,” she sighed, covering her face with her hands.

Like a child, Chimney made a disgusted noise before averting his eyes.

Buck chortled, leading Eddie around the table, and pushing him so he’d walk in front of him. He let go of his hand to put both of them on Eddie’s hips, prompting him to move.

“Buck, we talked about this!” Bobby yelled, his voice following them as they made their way down the stairs. “Don’t use the firetruck!”

Buck laughed, jumping the last step. He pulled Eddie into the locker room by the collar of his shirt, but not before shouting back. “Yes, Cap!”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

please take this as my Tease Tidbit Tuesday!

tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 @wikiangela @giddyupbuck @callmenewbie @lover-of-mine & @hippolotamus thank you all so much! I’ll get to each one of your works shortly💗

tagging in return @eddiebabygirldiaz @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @your-catfish-friend @mattsire @fionaswhvre @buckleyobsessed @disasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @smilingbuckley @housewifebuck @bucksbirthmark @firemedicdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @evanbegins @butraura @loserdiaz @jeeyuns & @eddie---diaz let me know if you wish to be removed!✨

[silverameco]

Summer Camp AU - @wolfstarmicrofic - 839 words

Bullshit. That's what it fucking was. Utter fucking bullshit. He had a plan. A simple one too, with only two steps to follow.

1) Coming home from boarding school for the summer

2) Taking off to James' the next day

Except he didn't anticipate that his mother would send him to some stupid summer camp before James could pick him up. All that because "maybe they will teach you some manners, unlike that heathen friend of yours". Sure, he and James got in a lot of trouble at school, but still. That wasn't fair. And with no phone too !

Now here he was, stuck in the middle of the woods with a bunch of kids younger than 12, with no way to contact James, bored out of his mind. He was 16 ! He should have been able to spend his summer the way he wanted. And it was definitely not building shitty wood cabins with some mean instructors yelling at him. Apparently being the oldest meant he had to help the kids. He wasn't a damn carpenter, for god's sake.

The only one who seemed to be around his age was a broody looking boy whose weird name he didn't remember. He was always aside from the group, reading or even smoking, even though it wasn't allowed. Sirius was a little bit annoyed by that because he was never getting yelled at for it. He supposed the instructors were a little bit scared of him and didn't want to bother. He could look quite scary, with the scar running accross his face and his tall figure. Sirius must have been scared of him. Maybe that was why he didn't dare talk to him until the third day. Maybe that was why he couldn't hold his gaze everytime their eyes met.

But on the third day, Sirius had enough. That boy was only a teenage boy like him after all. So he managed to avoid the attention of the instructors and approached him as he was reading, sitting under a tree.

"So, are you a really useless instructor or do your parents hate you too ?" he said while he sat beside him.

To Sirius' surprise, the boy smiled as he met his eyes. Oh, he thought. He's not scary at all. He's adorable. He pushed the thought away.

"Well I suppose my dad wanted to get rid of me. I'm Remus, by the way."

"That's a weird name, Remus."

"Weirder than being named after a star ?"

Sirius' mind blanked.

"Wha- How did you- ?"

At that, Remus just laughed. And oh, he should stop laughing. Sirius couldn't bear such a pretty sound.

"Some of us actually remember the others' names, Sirius", he smiled.

Sirius ignored the flutter in his chest at hearing his name in that warm voice, and he smirked, "do you know everyone's name, then, Remus ?"

Remus blushed. "Nah, just yours."

For the first time since he arrived in this stupid camp, Sirius felt his lips stir in a genuine smile. Okay then, Remus seemed fun.

They stayed under the tree for almost an hour, mostly chatting about their shared misfortune being here, and sharing a smoke. Stealing glances the other's way too. Surprisingly, nobody disturbed them until the outdoor activity ended and they had to go back to the camp for dinner. They sat together while they ate some very untasty food. Sirius spent his dinner trying to convince Remus that his parents sent him to this camp because he was a true rebel. But Remus kept laughing and looking at him with something like fond disbelief. So Sirius kept insisting. Maybe because he was stubborn and proud. Maybe because he wanted to hear that laugh again.

Overall, Sirius went to bed with a smile, thinking he made a real friend. Maybe that camp wouldn't be so bad, after all. But an hour after bed time, as everyone was already asleep, he heard a whisper shaking him away from his thoughts.

"Sirius, are you sleeping ?"

"Remus ?! What are you doing ?"

"Shh, don't wake them up !"

He sat up in his bed. He could barely make out Remus' amber eyes in the dark. Everyone else was asleep in the big dormitory.

"Couldn't sleep. There's a lake, not far. Thought maybe you'd want to go for a swim."

"Right now ?!"

Remus moved a bit and his face was suddendly bathed in the moonlight seeping through the thin curtains. Sirius could see him better. Mostly, he could see his cheeky smile.

"Come on, Sirius, what happened to being a true rebel ?"

He was standing near Sirius' bed, extending a waiting palm towards him. His smile was equal parts sweet and teasing. Mesmerized, Sirius took the offered hand. He hoped the night was hiding his blushing cheeks. As they sneaked out of the building and into the night, they never let go of each other's hand. Sirius thought that maybe, this summer camp wasn't utter bullshit. Maybe it would be really fucking amazing. 

[oh-snapperss]

is this entertaining?

<Join Game?> 

The text on his communicator is odd–Mumbo can’t remember the last time he had been asked to join a server, not since Xisuma had sent him the invitation to Hermitcraft. Ever since, season hops had been done differently, with Xisuma sending the server address privately so that Mumbo could join on his own time. Nothing else about the day seemed off–the sun shone brightly overhead, with the ancient monument casting shadows over half his shulker boxes. The vines growing over it seemed to have gotten twice as long overnight, which Mumbo personally felt added to the atmosphere of his base. 

Then again, that didn’t really matter now, did it? Season seven was coming to a close, and most hermits had already headed offworld to visit private servers, other friends, or just explore. The ones left were simply wrapping up, preparing for the move to season eight. Grian hadn’t left yet–Mumbo was sure he’d stop by later to check in first. 

Except–

<Grian left  the game>

Mumbo frowns, his eyebrows creasing. Surely Grian hadn’t just left? 

<GoodtimewithScar left  the game> <Etho left  the game> <Bdoubleo100 left  the game>

That…that was odd. For a fraction of a second, Mumbo glances down at the glowing purple text still taunting him on his communicator and wonders. 

And then he tucks it away with a shrug. Whatever the invite, he had no idea what it was, so maybe he’d ask X about it later. Or something. 

The others would be back soon anyway. 

They would. 

--------------------------------------

<Join Game?>

Oh, hell. Mumbo stares down at the purple text, not nearly as confused as he had been last time. 

Season eight was underway, with the Boatem crew growing closer and closer. Mumbo had found out fairly quickly what the glowing text meant when Impulse, Grian, and Scar had seemed distant, only for Grian to come flying into his bedroom late one night in tears. 

“A game…” Grian had whispered, face tucked away into Mumbo’s chest. In the moment, Mumbo’s face was a mixture of bafflement and concern for his friend, but as Grian had whispered out his actions, whispered out the alliances and deaths and kills, he’d started to understand. 

Now, Mumbo stands, gazing down at it. Easy decision. Not pressing that join button. And he was quite sure nobody else would press it either, not following the aftermath of the first game. 

But then again, Mumbo should have known Grian couldn’t ever turn down a chance to press a button. 

He should have known that to some it was only ever a game to some, should have known that it had never been a game to others, should have known there was unfinished business drawn in the sands of a desert he’d never been to. 

<Etho left  the game> <Bdoubleo100 left  the game> <ImpulseSV left the game> <Grian left the game> <GoodtimewithScar left the game> <PearlescentMoon left the game> <Renthedog left the game> <Tango left the game> <ZombieCleo left the game>

“Seriously?” Mumbo feels lightheaded, watching the chat fill almost instantly. “Whatever for?” 

The other hermits are talking, wondering and worried. Mumbo should join them, chime in with what he knows. 

Instead he does what might quite possibly be just his dumbest decision he’s ever made, and that’s saying a lot. 

<MumboJumbo joined the game>

--------------------------------------

<Join Game?>

“We can still be friends, Mumbo!” Grian’s crazed smile doesn’t slip from his face as he stalks forward, pickaxe clutched in his hand so tightly Mumbo can see it shaking. “There’s a way we can still be together!” 

That text shouldn’t be there. He’d disabled any and all chat messages from his comm the moment he’d arrived on the singleplayer world he’d found. 

He’s alone, he’s on a world right at the edge of the universe, somewhere caught between the past worlds and ones not yet created. There’s experimental elements, plants Mumbo is sure shouldn’t exist in the overworld or any realm, combined with elements that he’s also sure disappeared many, many servers ago. The world itself is unstable, and it’s perfect. Nobody would think to look for him here, and in this way, Mumbo can have his much needed solitude. 

He’d reassured Grian it had nothing to do with Last Life. 

It didn’t. That was months ago, after all! Months! And they’d been on season nine for weeks! Moon crash and all that aside, he was quite alright, he just needed a break. 

And it had absolutely nothing to do with Last Life. 

Definitely. 

So when he takes his communicator and tucks it into a shulker with shaking hands, before deciding to explore the opposite side of the world instead of even thinking about clicking that damned Join Game? button…it’s only because of his interest in the experimental elements. 

He wonders how many of them went back this time. 

--------------------------------------

<Join Game?>

“No thanks, I’m good mate!” Mumbo shakes his head, already turning back to the flooring of his definitely full vault. 

(Although…) 

“No, no,” Mumbo keeps his hands away from his communicator. He knows at this point nearly everyone will go back, having heard about it from Grian and the others when he’d come back from his break. Honestly, he still doesn’t get it. Out of everything they could be doing, between base work and pranks, he can’t imagine why everyone consistently chooses to go back. It doesn’t make sense. 

Maybe he ought to ask someone other than Grian, since his friend seemed to enjoy them in some sort of sick, twisted way–almost as if the red life in him had never fully left after enough times. 

But not this time. 

--------------------------------------

<Join Game?>

One more time. He just wants to understand. 

And maybe…maybe he missed using those end crystals more than he’d like to admit. 

<MumboJumbo joined the game>

W̵̱̻̭͇͎͚͚͕͇̣̲͚̤͇͔͑͆̋̑e̵͔̞̮̹͓͗̍̐̿̊̓̀̔̉ͅl̸̢̡̲̯͚̭̺̝̞̘̇̐͗̐c̴͔̯̟̭͔̠̝̦̻̮̜̟͕̪̠͋̉̾̑͂͐̾͑ơ̵͎̭̟̹̪̦̳̻̮̩̥͉͖̹̑̊͋̈́̔̍̃̄̈̕̚m̶̨̛͖͕͇͕̬̟͍̪̾͋̊͆́̃̓̀̽͝e̵̬͎͌̆́̊̆̎͐̿̂̕͠ͅ ̴̧̡̡̛̘̥̮̗͓̞͕͇͈̺̫͊͛͑̉͑̾̂̍͂̎̓̚͝͝b̷̨͍̲͓̖͎̣̉́́̾͋͑͊̄͋̏̈́͂̃̕ḁ̸̡͙͚̬̜̫̔̑̏̓̀̇́̅̈́͋͒̈̒̚͠c̵͓̰͈̙̼̝̺̪̱̍̍̋́͊̏͊̕ͅk̶̬̘̦̟̙͖̩̭͇̻͇͚̥͊̒͐͑͐̕͝!

this is an addition to this fic!

[ineffable-celestials]

The Ineffable Divorce

TW/CW: Discussions of religious trauma(?)

I know that this phase of the Good Omens fandom has run its course, but I want to look back at the Aziraphale hate that happened when season 2 was first released. Maybe I'm biased since Aziraphale is one of my favorite characters and, although he no longer needs defending from the fandom, I still want to say my piece even though I'm a year late. That and I want to talk about my thoughts regarding the "Ineffable Divorce".

People harshly criticized his decision to return to Heaven, feeling bad for Crowley solely in this situation and pinning all of the blame onto Aziraphale. I was largely disappointed after I finished season 2 and scoured the internet for content, seeing all of this unwarranted hate against him. I believe this has to do with a much larger issue in the fandom, the watering down of both Aziraphale and Crowley's character, but that's a discussion for another time.

When people criticize Aziraphale, I've seen comments of how Crowley was able to "betray" Hell so Aziraphale should be able to do this in turn, right? Wrong. Aziraphale and Crowley have two very different types of religious trauma, at least in my opinion. Crowley was cast out far long ago and turned into the Serpent of Eden. He had no home in Heaven and Hell had never really been a home for him at all. Crowley had no reason, in his opinion, to want to protect Earth. More than that, he had no reason to become an angel again and serve those who had deeply betrayed HIM.

Crowley had never belonged anywhere, except with a specific person. Aziraphale is (was) his everything and he would do anything to preserve his relationship with the other. Of course, he wasn't inclined to return to Heaven, he wanted Aziraphale to stay with him above all else. However, by Aziraphale asking him to become an angel once again, I believe there was the nagging thought that maybe Aziraphale had only loved him as an angel and nothing more. He wanted it to be him and Aziraphale against the world. In turn, Aziraphale wanted to make the world a better place for everyone.

Now, to get to the part I've really been aching to talk about. First of all, Aziraphale has sometimes been watered down as an "innocent angel" who could do no harm to anybody. Aziraphale is an angel, a Principality, and the "Angel of the Eastern Gate". Since the beginning of time, he has had the sole urge to protect others, it's how he was made so it only makes sense that he would want to protect those dearest to him. Meaning that he would quite literally do whatever it takes. If Aziraphale had not taken up the role of Supreme Archangel, who would? Uriel? Michael? Sandalphon? Saraqael? Each of them would only do harm to the Earth, and to Crowley. By taking up the position for himself, he is protecting those that he cares about. By putting himself in that position of authority, it's assuring that nobody else, except maybe the Metatron and anyone else who may reign above him, could cause harm. He took the Fall for the sake of others.

Oh boy, how I have been waiting for this. People expect Aziraphale to move on from Heaven, but this is far from easy for him to do. Aziraphale had been an outcast from the other angels for so long and he had longed for any sort of recognition from any of them. He had always been concerned about what they said or what they thought of him. People seem to ignore the euphoria that can be felt from finally getting that validation from people who have withheld it from you for so long. By the Metatron approaching and telling him that he is the best angel suited for the job, it was largely a confidence boost in Aziraphale. We can see it through his excitement in the following scene when he relays the news to Crowley. Not only that, we see his excitement of offering Crowley to be an angel again, a way for Aziraphale to continue receiving constant validation for his new job while keeping the one he holds dearest to him as close as possible.

This, however, does not work out as he had planned. In his excitement, he forgets to take Crowley's feelings into account as well. Aziraphale, unlike Crowley, has a deeper attachment to Heaven and is too far caught up in its web of manipulation to ever get himself back out from it. Of course, he cares for Crowley, and, had the situation been any different, I believe he would have stayed with Crowley in a heartbeat. The Metatron knows the angels, he knows that they will come to his every beck and call like a dog. Aziraphale most of all, as that sense of validation from earlier is what drives him to pick up this responsibility. He gets a chance to protect those around him while getting praise for his actions. That is his true purpose as a Principality.

I heavily dislike the Coffee Theory for this reason. I know people seek comfort in it because "that's not their Aziraphale" but I feel like it takes away everything we know of Aziraphale so far. Aziraphale is not the "perfect" angel. He's not like the other angels, he doesn't behave "as he should". He Sins, he has flaws, and he's selfish. That's what makes him, well, him. By subscribing to this theory, it deprives him of his struggles and ignores the face of any problems he's had to deal with. It makes the most sense for him to go off to Heaven in my opinion and, while I'm of course sad that he did, I can't see him doing anything else. The Metatron had no use to change his coffe as the seeds of manipulation had been planted far too long ago.

Aziraphale made that decision on his own while Crowley made his. They both need time to work things out and that's okay.

(Also, Aziraphale will make one badass Supreme Archangel.)

[fuedalreesespieces]

inuyasha's time on the tree is honestly a subject that fascinates me. imagine you were a kid in the village where this all happened, fifty years ago. you hear rumors of the hanyo skirting around the village, but your parents tell you that miko-sama will take care of it - after all, she's taken care of every demon that's showed on the village doorstep, so this should be no different. and then she dies - the woman you thought was invincible, that everyone told you was invincible, untouchable, dies. she bleeds out surrounded by people, and you hide behind your mother's wrap skirt while you watch the pyre burn, and the smoke pour into the sky. your village's only protector is gone, and in her stead is a little girl around your age, who up until now has only held her sister's quiver. is she able to hold her sister's mantle and all that comes with it? it's a question too heavy for you to think on.

kikyo-sama's murderer - that's what they say he is - is pinned to the tree in the forest. you are forbidden from playing there anymore, but there are days where the ball rolls out of the street and into the foliage, and you chase it over the moss-covered crags until you find yourself there. and at first you're terrified to go any closer, plagued with images of the hanyo stirring to life and attacking you. but he doesn't stir. he doesn't move. he almost doesn't seem to breath, and it is only by the slow rise and fall of his chest, punctured with kikyo's arrow, that you know he must still be alive.

you can't fathom how he still lives.

you ask around. it's a touchy subject, and nobody in the village has anything good to say. the rumors are shrill and inescapable, like cicadas during summer: he charmed her, he bewitched her, he played at being her friend and betrayed her. always, he is the betrayer. you learn nothing from them and there is nothing to unearth. the right people to ask are no longer able to respond. the ones old enough to give you answers speak with restrained anger, rage tightening the skin around their lips. you visit kikyo-sama's grave, leaving flowers with the other villagers, but her empty headstone provides no answers, either.

the hanyo is silent, and the forest grows around him. you had never looked at him before, only knowing his face torn apart in anger and shock, moments before the arrow's magic overtook him. you, against all the chastisements of your parents, and all the recurring tales you've heard of youkai, find yourself at his tree without thinking. and it is his tree, just as it's his forest, because nobody dares to step foot in it. nobody except you. you linger by the generous shade of the trees, watching from a distance, expecting something. but the tree he rests against may as well be a gravestone, too.

you find yourself in the forest doing menial things, like collecting firewood, even though your mother tells you that it's best to avoid treading too far. the trees by the hanyo are too thick for someone as tiny as you to put a dent in, anyway, but you imagine it would be easy work for him - his claws peek just under the fluttering rim of his sleeves, and again you imagine him tearing himself free of his prison and stalking towards you. he doesn't. no matter how much noise you make, his eyelashes lay low, and his body hangs limp, like your sister's rag-doll.

you imagine this may be a mistake, but you continue to make the same choices. perhaps it's the lack of answers, or the childlike curiosity that tethers you back into the forest. maybe it's the fact that while you were able to gaze upon kikyo-sama from afar, you never quite knew her. you admired her as everyone else did, but just like the gods themselves, she was distant. the closest you'd ever been to her was the day of her death, when her mask of serenity broke into a thousand pieces, and she clung to her sister's arm for the first time, begging kaede to follow her instructions. a face of pain, a twin with that of the hanyo's - a thread between them, sewn together by the death itself.

somehow, this hanyo is the last remaining piece of the village's deceased priestess.

you move on with life. you grow older, and get married to someone in the village, and watch your own children get married - but the hanyo is there, just as he was decades ago, as unchanging as a statue. it's an unfair comparison, you think - any statue you've seen is cold and immobile, but the hanyo's blood pulses under his skin, like he's constantly running. though he looks peaceful, you still believe, after all these years, that he could escape at any moment.

but inuyasha doesn't escape. a girl in strange clothes frees him, and when his eyes flash open, you see life enter them again for the first time in fifty years.

[anothershorthuman]

Stay Alive Pt. 8

pairings: nct dream x platonic!reader, afab!reader (you wear a skirt, but they/them pronouns are used), ??? x reader x ???

genre: zombie apocalypse au, high school au, angst, fluff, humor, not really horror but it's zombies ya'know

word count: 3.0k

series warnings: blood, injuries & fighting, suicide, character death, swearing, again... zombies.

chpt warnings: medical malpractice, mentions of dead parents, swearing

summary: nobody was ready for a zombie apocalypse. you were definitely not ready for a zombie apocalypse. while contemplating just giving up and accepting your fate, you meet a group of boys. life may seem pointless now, but at the very least, you now have a reason to stay alive.

previous: masterlist: next

… 

The camp isn’t as full as Jaemin thought it would be. Sure, there are several hundred people, but there are plenty of empty beds. The camp is broken up into several buildings: 4 housing lodges, 3 bathroom lodges, 1 cafeteria, the 2 medical buildings near the entrance, the staff entrance building, and a giant courtyard in the middle. 

The boys were given a tour after all of their medical examinations and given color coded wristbands in order to place them in a lodging house. Mark and Chenle were put into the green house, Renjun, Haechan, and Jisung in the yellow house. The remaining two houses were blue and red, but the wristbands given to Jeno and Jaemin were orange. 

“What the fuck is orange?” Jaemin asks the guard giving them a tour. 

“The two of you were uncooperative when you were found. Think of it as your first warning.” 

They were instructed to stay in the red lodging house. Apparently, that is where all of the uncooperative residents stayed, as well as off-guard security and military. Jeno assumed that this is similar to what being in prison was like. Uncooperative residents were only allowed in the red lodge and other communal spaces. People placed in other housing lodges were free to enter any building except the staff building. There was a curfew, everyone was to be in their housing lodge at midnight.

The boys sat together at the outskirts of the courtyard. Jeno was glaring at anyone that stared a little too hard. They had tried looking for you, assuming that your medical examination must have gone by quicker than theirs considering you were by yourself and yet, you were nowhere to be found.

“What if something was wrong with them?” Chenle asked. The implication was understood by everyone, what if you had been infected?

“Don’t say that.” Renjun is quick to shoot him down. “We asked the guards if they were fine and they said they are so… they’re fine.”

Jaemin is picking at the skin around his nails, “Fine my ass. We should find them and get out of here.”

“Maybe we should leave without them.” Everyone's heads whip to look at Jeno in surprise. He shrugs a bit, “Don’t look at me like that. If the government wants to keep them for whatever reason, maybe we should let them. I mean, it's the government! What the hell are we supposed to do against the government?”

Haechan is the first to defend you, “We’re not supposed to abandon our friends.”

Jeno shakes his head, “I’m glad you could find comfort in them after what happened with your mom, but they aren’t the only ones wanting to help you through that. We need to be realistic, okay?” When an uncomfortable silence follows his statement he continues, “This isn’t me not wanting to be their friend. This is me prioritizing the friends I have in front of me right now.”

Jeno’s a bit out of breath after his outburst and his eyes flicker between all of the boys trying to gauge their reaction. 

“Maybe he’s right.” Jisung says softly. He’s ripping up the blades of grass in front of him as he talks, avoiding eye contact with everyone else. “If something were to happen to them, or anyone of us, they wouldn’t want the rest of us to be hung up on it, right? We can’t just sit around and do nothing. If something happens to me, I want you guys to make a run for it. Keep living.”

Chenle stands up and speaks as he dusts off his pants, “I don’t give a shit what you guys say. Leave for all I care, but I’m not leaving without knowing why they’re being so secretive about keeping my friend isolated and away from us.” And with that he left towards the green lodge. Mark is quick to run off after him, assuring the others that he’ll be back after making sure that he’s okay. Jisung follows.

Renjun sighs, this really wasn’t how he thought this conversation would go. Jeno has been nothing but candid with his distaste for you, even if he’s unwilling to explain where these feelings originated. He’s also noticed the complete opposite with Jaemin. All of the second years know that Jaemin is a flirt, often taking people out on dates. There were rumors about how he would sneak his arm around his dates shoulders, his other hand maybe wandering. But Renjun knows that despite Jaemin’s flirtatious persona, those rumors were only rumors. Jaemin hadn’t been interested in anyone for years, but he wonders if maybe he’s interested in you now. Renjun glances at him, only to realize that Jaemin is already looking at him intently.

“What?” Renjun asks.

Jaemin shrugs, “You didn’t say anything earlier, I was just wondering what you’re thinking.”

“I’m worried about them too. But if everyone else wants to leave, then I’m okay with that too.”

Jaemin lets out a dry laugh, “So you don’t actually have an opinion?”

Renjun can feel his eyebrows rising, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re taking the easy way out. Would it kill you to be divisive?”

“I’m divisive when I need to be,” Renjun is quick to retaliate, “I care about the entire group and I understand that not everyone will agree with me, something that you don’t seem to understand.”

“Oh, I understand. I really just don’t care. If I’m right, I’m not gonna go along with everyone else because they agree. They’re still wrong.”

Renjun leans forward, challenging him, “So you’re never wrong?”

Jaemin sends him a lazy smile, “I’m never wrong.”

Sure, Renjun is annoyed with Jaemin’s answer, but it’s Jeno that scoffs in disagreement.

“I can name 5 different times you were wrong right now.” Jeno says.

“Do it.” Jaemin challenges.

“The time you told Haechan that Chaeyoung was into him and he should confess to her.”

“I knew she would reject him. But he had been doing unnecessary favors for her and Haechan was being used. She needed to straight up reject him so he could move on.”

“What?” Haechan exhaled in surprise, “You couldn’t have just told me she wasn’t into me!” He shoves Jaemin and Jaemin shoves him back and snickers.

“The time you stole Yangyangs money.”

“I saw him take it from a freshman. I gave it back to them.”

“When you skipped Chemistry for an entire semester.”

“That was the semester Yuna would not leave Renjun alone unless he had people around, I’d skip class so he wouldn’t be alone during lunch.”

“That’s why you’d eat lunch with me?” Renjun interrupts. 

Jaemin nods his head. “That girl was so fucking clingy, I figured you would like having a guard dog around for one period.”

Jeno laughs, “You did not just call yourself a guard dog.” Haechan starts to jokingly bark at Jaemin.

“I am one.” Jaemin smiles. “But see, I’m always right. So, we shouldn’t leave until all of us can leave together, okay?”

“Fine by me.” Renjun sighs.

“Jeno?”

Jeno is looking at his hands in his lap, smoothing out the wrinkles in his pants. “I don’t know, man.”

Jaemin scooches closer to Jeno, putting a hand on his knee. “Please, dude. For me?”

The breeze picks up, and Renjun can feel the hairs in the back of his neck sticking up. The wind rustles the trees surrounding the camp and the leaves fall into the camp. 

“Okay.” Jeno says.

Haechan interrupts the moment with his loud voice, “No one’s gonna ask me what I think?”

…

Mark watches Chenle pout and whine to Jisung about how unfair everything is. If the circumstances had been different, Mark would probably have even thought that Chenle looked cute. He would have leaned over and squeezed his cheeks affectionately, teased him about his complaining. Sadly, they were still in the middle of the first zombie apocalypse known to man, so the temper tantrum was more annoying than cute.

“Can you chill out, man?” Mark asks.

Chenle’s mouth opens in an “O,” seemingly shocked by Mark's statement. “I can’t believe you just said that to me!” he complains.

Jisung is trying his hardest not to laugh. Really, he is. He knows that there isn’t anything funny about Mark reprimanding Chenle or having an argument about potentially leaving someone behind to die, and yet he can’t stop the giggles that leave his mouth. This, in turn, prompts Chenle to start giggling too. Soon, they are both cackling, leaning onto each other for support. Chenle is doubling over in laughter and Jisung is hitting him on the back as he starts to wheeze. 

Mark can’t do anything else but watch. His face expression is contorted into one of confusion, his eyebrows pulled together and his mouth slightly open as if to ask a question. His face only makes the other two boys laugh harder. Mark sighs deeply and leaned back on his two hands. 

“Okay, okay,” Jisung says, wheezing between laughs, “We’re done.”

Chenles laughing lessens when he sees that Mark didn’t seem amused by their outburst. He didn’t mean to be annoying, but it felt like all his repressed emotions were starting to catch up to him. 

“This is serious,” Mark said.

Chenle scoffed, “You think I don’t know that? Tell me why I’m the only person that gives a fuck as to if one of our friends is okay?”

“Are they really our friend?” Jisung asks.

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?” Chenle says with eyebrows raised.

One of Mark's hands came up to rub his face, he really was struggling to keep his frustrations at bay. “We met them a couple days ago, Chenle. And they held a knife to my neck!”

“Maybe you only met them a couple days ago. But they’re in Jisung and my homeroom, they’re my friend.”

“Friend is a stretch, don’t you think?” Jisung says, “I mean, they sat all the way in the back and barely talked to anyone.”

“They’re my friend, okay?” Chenle was clearly becoming more irritated by their line of questioning, “Just because you didn’t talk to them doesn’t mean that I never did.”

…

Chenle was on his own. Usually, he and Jisung would sit outside their homeroom before class started, talking about basketball or the latest anime episode they had watched. But, Jisung was sick and wouldn’t be at school today and Chenle didn’t feel like talking to anyone else. So he figured he would walk into class early that day and just wait in his seat for the day to start. He figured that he could use some peace and quiet and he hoped to spend some time alone.

Except, he wasn’t alone. When he walked into the classroom, you were already in your seat. You barely acknowledged him as he walked to his seat in front of you, but he noticed the way your lips twitched up when he greeted you. 

The two of you coexisted for a while. Chenle had even pulled out some homework to do. He was erasing something when his arm bumped into his pencil and it fell onto the floor. When he bent over to pick it up, he noticed your own paper. Instead of working on homework, you had been drawing. There were swirls and geometric shapes intricately drawn across your paper. In the center there was a jellyfish.

“I, uh, like your drawing.”

Your head snaps up, not having realized that he had turned around and was watching you. You put your pencil down and rest your hand on your desk, covering up the majority of your drawing.

“It’s nothing.” You mutter.

Chenle shakes his head, “It’s not nothing. I think it’s cool. Do you like jellyfish?”

“It’s not a jellyfish,” you say rather dryly, “It’s a man-o-war.”

His head tilts to the side, wanting to get a better look at the drawing, “A man-o-what?” He’s still trying to look at the drawing when he hears a small laugh. His eyes drift upward towards your face, and he catches a glimpse of amusement on your face before it disappears again. A small smile spread on his own face, he was starting to like talking to you, even if you thought he was sort of dumb.

“A Portuguese man-o-war. Don’t worry, I’m not good at drawing and it gets confused for jellyfish all the time.”

… 

Renjun, Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin are now laying side by side on the grass. They assumed that the other boys would join them when they finished having their own discussion but they had been laying there for a while. They were getting some looks from the people that would walk past them, but they don't mind. 

“Our lives are ruined, aren’t they? Renjun asks softly. The other boys don’t have an answer for his question but when he peeks at them from his spot on the ground, he can tell they’re thinking about what he said. It really did seem like their lives were over. All of their dreams and aspirations were thrown out the window. Renjun would never get to have a display of his art in a museum and his parents would never see why he was so sure about moving to Korea to work on his craft. In fact, he might not see his parents ever again. 

He blinked away tears before the boys could see them well up in his eyes.

…

You wake up feeling incredibly sluggish, fighting to keep your eyes from falling shut once again. You instinctively try to rub away the tiredness from your eyes but find that your wrists have been secured to the hospital-like bed that you are lying in. 

Memories start coming back to you: arriving at the camp after being attacked, being separated from the boys, and weird doctors and nurses. There is a faint beeping to the left of you, presumably some sort of machine that takes your vitals and an iv that is attached to your left arm. Your arm feels tired and sore and you begin to wonder if they have something else dripping into your bloodstream. 

Now, feeling more aware of your surroundings, you realize that you are no longer in the same room you were last in with the nurse. Although this room is similar, with the general feeling of being in a clinic or hospital, it is bigger. There is a curtain that blocks your view of half the room and you wonder if there is anyone in the room that isn’t visible to you. The room is devoid of any furniture, with the exception of your bed. There's a cabinet against the wall and a manila folder on top of it. Your fingers twitch, maybe you could figure out what these people wanted with you if you could just read that file that they had made about you. 

Your train of thought is interrupted by the sound of a door suddenly opening. The door is behind the curtain, so you aren’t able to see who has walked into the room, but you can see their feet from below the curtain. They are presumably a man wearing dress shoes, some sort of loafers. They are polished and squeak against the floor as he walks across the floor. A big hand reaches around the side of the curtain and pulls it back. You are faced with a middle aged man, wearing a white lab coat over a navy blue sweater and beige dress pants. He’s got glasses on and his hair is the only part of him that doesn’t look put together, like he’s been running his fingers through it too many times. 

He smiles when you make eye contact, an attempt to be polite, you presume, but do not give him the courtesy of smiling back or speaking with him. You stare at each other rather blankly for a second before he starts speaking. 

“I’m sure you must be very confused right now. My name is Lee Changsub, I'm the camp's main doctor.”

You continue to stare blankly at him. If he’s the main doctor, it’s likely that it’s his fault that you’re in this position to begin with. If he’s in control, there’s no use in trying to communicate with him, he’s only speaking with you because he wants something and the camp had made it very clear that they were willing to take whatever it is they wanted without consent, it was the government, of course.

He looks away for a second, wiping his palms on his coat and then awkwardly putting them into his coat pockets. How funny, a doctor made uncomfortable by a teen. 

“Do you, uh, wanna know why you’re here?” 

He fidgets as he waits for a response from you. He looks at you expectantly, but only receives a nod from you.

“Will you not speak to me? I’ve been told that you’re a bit abrasive.”

“Who told you that?” You ask sharply, “Miss Kang?”

His eyes widen a bit and his mouth opens and closes a couple times.

“Do you mean Dr. Kang?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, Dr Kang.”

Changsub is clearly floored by your mockery, but it leaves you feeling confused. Are you the first person that they have strapped down against their will? Had he expected you to be in a good mood after what happened?

“What time is it?” you ask.

“I'm not sure,” Changsub says as he walks over to the cabinet, looking through the file. He seems to only skim the pages, glancing at you every once in a while. You revert back to silence. 

He leans a bit on the cabinet, suddenly becoming very comfortable. He puts his weight onto his arm that's on top of the counter and crosses his feet casually. You’re pretty sure you even see his lips twitch into a brief smile.

“This camp has been tasked with finding a cure to this spreading disease and you’re going to help me find it.”

…

tagging! @staysstrays, @caspervoid, @alyselenai, @lethephin, @leechipp, @rkiveruinz, @butterfliesinthenightsky, @olxviaaaa, @kikookii, @shley-chan, @kodzukena, @everytimeicrymytearsdonteverdry, @cocoishere

could not tag red

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a/n: hello,, thank you for reading this chapter! things are really gonna start picking up soon and im excited for you guys to read it! This chapter may feel like a lot of nothing lol, but i promise it's heading somewhere

[discotenny]

Lost you once

Chapter 1 ~ All there is, is you and me Where things go wrong following the escape from Sae's palace.

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

Under the colorful fluorescents of Sae’s casino, all Ren can look at is you. 

In all your beauty, in all your grace, you dance above the lights with a smile that makes his heart flutter. Your presence shimmers like your blade as you fight your way through shadows. It shines like the chandeliers you swing from. As you intentionally put on a show, Ren almost feels jealous at how many eyes widen at your appearance. 

“Joker, stop staring at them! You need to keep up your own pace or you’re not getting out of there!” 

Futaba’s voice comes through his communicator, a warning lacing her teasing words as she alludes to the true plan he needed to carry out. Before the others could question her statement, Ryuji’s obnoxiously loud laughter pierces his ears. He can slightly hear Ann tell him to shut up but by then, Ren has already turned his eyes to look at you once more. 

Ren sees you giggle and send him a wink, blowing a kiss that he catches with his hand. As the large group of shadows you fight look over towards his hiding place, you take advantage of their distraction. 

“PERSONA!” 

Pandora’s Box- a myth said to hail from Ancient Greece. Pandora, the first woman ever alive, was blessed by the gods with gifts to guide her path. Among beautiful clothing, shining pearls, and wonderful musical sound, it was a singular box that took the attention of the girl. A gift she was warned not to open. And coupled with her innocently curious nature, it was a recipe for disaster.

The shadows dressed in suits laughed at you. After all, could you even fight with such an inconvenient persona? To them, it seemed you were better off fighting with your blade than some cumbersome box. 

Ren could see it in your eyes. The anger and the fury of being underestimated yet again. Through all their battles, you were the one that was always targeted, being thought of as the weakest link of their party. But time and time again- you would prove your worth and show it was a mistake to underestimate just how much damage you could do.  

When you first unlocked your persona, the thieves stood confused. No creature, no monster, no mythological being of any kind stood behind you and your new outfit. Instead, an ornate box appeared hovering in your hands. Nobody else could ever open the box except for you, and you wouldn’t tell anyone exactly what was in it either.

You glide your hand over the top, shifting the lid of the box to the side. It leaks out a black mass of smoke that enters your assailants lungs. Wretched coughs lined with the aftermath of your assault filled the air. 

You wielded the element of poison. With the smoke emanating from Pandora’s Box, you were able to inflict continuous damage on your opponents without even directly attacking.

For weaker enemies, the smoke was all you needed to put them out of commission long enough for you to get past. 

The group of shadows in front of you fall to their knees, gasping breaths as they heave on the floor. You walk past them, not bothering yourself to finish them off. You had a mission to complete, afterall. 

You hop onto the next chandelier, pausing as you survey the area to decide whether to jump down to the ground below or maneuver up to the elevated area above. 

“There are too many shadows below you to land down, Silhouette. There should be a platform with an exit door somewhere above you,” Futaba says. 

“Got it!” You say as you climb up the balcony. When your two feet touch solid floor, you turn around to see if Ren made it behind you. He makes eye contact with you and for a brief second your eyes soften and he forgets where he is- focusing on the beauty that is all of you . 

“Behind you, watch out!” Futaba’s voice interrupts his brief daze. Ren quickly climbs up, hiding himself as you turn to face the newly appeared opponent. “This one’s not like the others- make sure to be careful!” 

Your eyes narrow, sizing up the shadow in front of you. 

For stronger enemies, your poison wasn’t the only thing you’d need to use.

Manifesting your persona, you again flooded the arena with your black smoke. The poison begins to take effect, but as expected, the Moloch wouldn’t fall down with just that. It takes the opportunity to blast you with agidyne- which you just narrowly avoid. 

After dodging, you close the distance between you and the shadow. With the help of your intruding poison, you brandish your blade. It only takes three quick strikes to take it down. It cries as it vanishes into a black puddle, emanating a similar smoke as your own persona does. 

“Good job, Silhouette!” Akechi cuts through the communications and with a voice so cheery, no one on the line dares to comment further. Ren almost rolls his eyes at the facade he knows the detective is putting on. 

“Let’s keep moving- through those doors should be a maintenance area,” Futaba says. “Everyone else use escape route B!” 

Several chatters of agreement and acknowledgement follow her words. You turn to Ren and he nods in encouragement, already prepared to follow you through the doors and to the ends of the Earth itself. 

You head inside, going through quicker than you normally would have if you feared being caught. However, you had to. You needed to run ahead of Ren to make sure your opposition was reacting in the intended way for your plan to succeed. Keeping Akechi’s spirit in believing you were on your own escape route was part of it. Setting the stage for Ren to make his grand reveal was what was supposed to happen. 

Supposed to. 

Ren doesn’t know how it went so wrong. 

He was the one that leapt out the stained glass window, grabbing the attention of everyone in the premises. You were the one that took the quiet route at the last moment- through a set of unsuspecting gray doors. 

Ren can’t help but freeze as he stares at the scene in front of him. He can vaguely hear your voice fighting against your captors. He can barely see the outline of you trying to free yourself. He can just about feel your eyes begging at him for help. 

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. 

A helicopter shines a blinding spotlight on his face and he flinches. He can’t move- he can’t think- and every possible voice in his ear but one is screaming at him to run. 

He doesn’t want to leave you there, and all he wants to do is run over and free you from your binding so you can run off yourself- but he can’t. Not when there are other people’s lives at stake, not when it’s not over just yet. The burden of being a leader means he can’t always do what he needs. 

And so he turns away. Away from your voice. Away from the outline of you. Away from your pleading eyes. 

Ren feels sick as he runs off, taking your intended escape route as a few policemen attempt to chase him. He out runs them all, of course. When he meets up with the rest of the thieves, your missing presence is deafening. 

Despite being free, Ren can’t help but feel like he’s lost. 

He was the one that was supposed to get captured, treated like a dog by the cops once more. You were the one bound to the ground- kicked around like you were nothing more than worthless trash. 

Ren tries to keep up the confident facade as he speaks with your panicked friends- reassuring them that everything was going to be alright. They all separate for the night following the short debrief at Le Blanc. The rest of them leave with a hesitant hope that despite the hiccup, their intended plan would turn out and you would return to them safe. 

Ren wasn’t so sure of it himself. Morgana paws at him as he sits in bed- the wide eyed distant stare Ren wears makes the cat question if he was even alive. His hands cover his nose and mouth as he replays the image of you being rough handled in his mind. He doesn’t want to imagine the horrors of what they may be putting you through in custody- but his memories of his own treatment leak into his thoughts and all he wants to do is cry. 

He desperately, desperately wants you in his arms, but all he can do is sit in his bed and sob like you’re already gone.

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

Decided to split this fic up into parts because I hate doing constant scene changes in my fics lowk lowk. Also to get this out of draft hell LMAO >:3 I have parts 2 and 3 already written, with part 4 already drafted and partially complete. Be warned this has the unrequited love tag on ao3 for a reason...

[nonbinary-octopus]

story idea I've been thinking about lately:

So there's this guy, and he really needs to be somewhere else right now. Dunno why, that part's not really important, but he needs to get off-planet, quickly, without anybody noticing.

He manages to sneak onto a large spaceship where everyone is wearing one of two outfits, and he steals a uniform, planning to blend in with the hundreds of other identically dressed crewpeople. Surely nobody knows every face on the ship, and if he just doesn't draw attention to himself, he should be okay until... until they get to wherever the ship is going. He wasn’t able to actually check that detail before stowing away, but anywhere is better than here.

It seems to be going well! Nobody gives him a second glance as he mingles with the rest of the crew, following the flow of foot traffic and doing whatever chores the people near him are doing.

Except.

What he doesn't know is that there are not, in fact, several hundred people on this ship. There are two people on this ship, both of them hiveminds. It's easier and simpler, they've found, to simply stock up on the exact same outfit in every size than to have varied wardrobes, so each of them has selected a favorite outfit, one in red and the other in blue, and dressed all their bodies in it.

And so, the moment the stowaway stepped into the corridor wearing his stolen red uniform, Red turned to Blue and asked, "Are you wearing one of my outfits?"

"No," Blue answered. "Why?"

"There's someone not me wearing one."

The stowaway had not noticed anyone glancing twice at him, but when you've dozens of eyes in a room, the second look needn't be with the same pair as the first.

The hiveminds are curious why someone has snuck on board, but not terribly concerned. They're not carrying anything worth stealing, and they can't think of anything else he might be on board to do. They do lock the doors to important rooms, like navigation and the engine room, but mostly, they just watch and wait. They don't let on that they know he's not supposed to be there.

Not for a good while, at least.

[zaebeecee]

To Sever a Loveless Bond

••RadioDust Soulmate AU••

Part 10/?

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Read on AO3

•••

Some of that promised fluff coming right at you. Also, sorry, I’m inflicting my other ships on y’all starting now, but they’ll be mostly background and you can ignore them.

Also, because I feel it needs to be stated: nothing in this chapter is meant to make you feel bad for, or sympathize with, Valentino. He is still a sinner, and so he is in a complicated situation, but most sinners are, and a complicated situation is not an excuse for evil behavior. It simply exists to further the story, as well as to highlight the fact that Val is a hypocrite.

•••

“What the actual fuck is going on in this hotel?”

Vaggie’s firm statement—which would have been basically a scream from anyone else—was out of her mouth the moment Alastor vanished from the room. Charlie watched as her girlfriend looked at the little group still gathered, the angel’s expression one of deep frustration. Nobody answered her immediately, because nobody else seemed to have any idea, either.

Dinner had been very, very weird. It had been good! It had been quite good, since both Angel and Alastor were fantastic at cooking and, since it was Angel’s recipe, there wasn’t any concern about what the… ingredients… might have been. But the mood had been weird, mostly because of the way the two sinners had been talking to each other over the course of the meal.

As soon as she had that thought, Charlie felt kind of terrible. After all, they were getting along, which was good. They were both in friendly moods. Alastor seemed like he was opening up to the idea of making friends, and that was amazing! But there was something else, something different, that she couldn’t quite identify. And now, it looked like she wasn’t the only one thinking it.

Charlie was sitting in the lounge with Vaggie, Husk, and Niffty; Alastor had been present for a few minutes, as well, but had bade them goodnight and vanished. Angel, by contrast, had gone straight to bed as soon as he was done cleaning up, which was also weird. Even if he didn’t want to hang out with any of them, he usually went out in the evening, if he could get away with it. And now, Vaggie was pacing, and that… wasn’t helping the energy.

Niffty was the first one who actually spoke in the weird silence that followed Vaggie’s questions. “Alastor and Angel are friends,” she said.

“Alastor doesn’t have friends,” Husk countered, leaning on the arm of the couch and pressing a half-full glass of ice water against his temple.

Niffty turned her head to look at him. “Alastor has Rosie.”

“Rosie doesn’t count.” Husk turned his own head just enough to return her frown. “Rosie is the exception that proves the rule.”

“Isn’t this a good thing?” Charlie asked, looking between the three of them. “I mean, yes, it… it’s a little strange, sure, but there isn’t anything wrong with it, is there?”

“You should always be worried about Alastor spending a lot of time alone with someone,” Husk said, turning his head away again.

“That isn’t even my point,” Vaggie said. “The two of them have been strange. I said as much to Angel Dust, and I know he knew what I was talking about. And I think the two of you do, too.”

Niffty tilted her head, but her expression was oddly neutral for the usually manic little sinner. “I won’t talk about it.”

“So you do know something.”

“Yes,” Niffty said, her tone not changing. “And I won’t talk about it.”

Vaggie made a noise of frustration. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not my business. It’s Alastor’s,” Niffty said with a shrug. “If he wanted you to know, he would have talked to you about it. But he didn’t. He talked to me.”

With a quiet noise of frustration, Vaggie put her face in her hands and walked a few steps away, muttering under her breath in Spanish. Charlie watched her with sympathy, but turned her attention to Niffty and Husk almost immediately. “We just want to help.”

“He doesn’t need help!” Niffty said, her expression morphing into a frown. “He knows what he’s doing!”

“No,” Husk said. “He doesn’t. Neither of them do.”

Niffty shushed him, but Charlie focused on the bartender exclusively. “Husk… what happened?”

“Don’t,” Niffty said, her voice lightly pleading.

Husk sighed. He looked at Niffty, and his expression looked sad. Complicated. “Alastor didn’t tell me shit,” he told her. “Angel did.”

Niffty didn’t look happy, but she looked away, holding her hands up like she was giving up on the situation. Husk watched her, and Charlie thought he might change his mind, but after a few moments he looked up at Charlie. “You can’t lose your shit over this. Either of you.”

“We won’t,” Charlie said, before Vaggie could get aggressive again. She reached out to her girlfriend, and when she reluctantly accepted her hand, Charlie pulled her back down to sit beside her on the couch. “We’re just worried and we want to know that nothing bad is happening.”

Husk closed his eyes and leaned his temple into the cold glass again. He looked like he had a headache. “…the kid talked to me one night about… I dunno. Two weeks ago, I guess. A little less, maybe. Didn’t want to, he made that pretty clear. It was when he locked himself up in his room that whole day. When I finally got him to get to the point, he asked me about… about soul marks.”

Charlie frowned. “He asked… …why?”

“Because Alastor, apparently, woke his up.”

Gasping softly, Charlie covered her mouth with her hand. “He what…??”

Vaggie, on the other hand, didn’t react at all. “Woke his what up?” she asked. “What are you talking about?”

“His— oh, right, you wouldn’t…” Charlie trailed off before she provided everyone with yet another reminder that Vaggie wasn’t actually a sinner. “It’s something that all sinners and Hellborn have. …well. Almost all,” she amended. “Nobody knows why they exist, but the best theory is that they’re another punishment that Hell created. They’re a mark that’s supposed to tell you who your soulmate is. When you meet and first touch, then your soul marks… become active, or wake up, and you know you’re meant to be together.”

“A perversion of the promise of happiness,” Husk said darkly. “Never seen it cause anything except unhappiness, myself.”

“Yeah,” Charlie agreed softly. “Me too.”

Vaggie frowned. “That… that doesn’t sound very happy,” she said. “Who would want Hell telling them who they’re supposed to love?”

Charlie shrugged. “Some people think they come from Asmodeus, but Uncle Ozzie assured me it’s not one of his spells. He doesn’t know, either.”

“I see.” Vaggie paused, and Charlie could hear her thinking. “…you said almost everyone,” she added, a little hesitantly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t have one,” Charlie said with a shrug. “But I didn’t think it was that weird. My parents didn’t, either. You know, fallen angel, human cast into Hell alive, it… it made sense.” She twisted her hands together in her lap, her mind conjuring up the sounds of her parents yelling at each other in another room, and did her best to banish it. “Husk, do you know… does Alastor…?”

“Angel said so,” Husk said, watching her with a critical, suspicious eye. She immediately stilled her hands. “But I don’t know myself, no. Alastor and I don’t exactly chat about that kind of thing.”

“So what are they doing?” Vaggie asked. “I don’t believe that, out of nowhere, Angel Dust and the Radio Demon have just… decided to give in to some kind of romantically cursed fate.”

“I don’t know.” Husk looked away. “And neither do they. That’s pretty obvious. But if they’re… plotting together, or something, you’re going to have to ask them.”

Charlie nodded. The silence was thoughtful, but heavy, and the princess watched the shadows on the wall flickering in the firelight. Eventually, Niffty spoke again. “I wish Cherri hadn’t moved out.”

Husk twitched, the ice in his glass rattling, but he didn’t look at her. Charlie looked between the two of them. Cherri Bomb had moved into the hotel after the extermination and Sir Pentious’ death, but only for a short period of time. It was less than a month before she was gone again, the stated excuse being that redemption was “boring and not her thing”, but it was so abrupt that Charlie knew something had happened. Vaggie squeezed Charlie’s hand, but spoke to Niffty. “Why?”

“Because if anybody knows what Angel’s thinking, it’s her. And she would be easier to talk to than Rosie.” Niffty glanced at Husk.

The maid didn’t even open her mouth before the bartender said, “No.”

“Husk,” Niffty said, clearly frustrated.

“No, Niff,” Husk repeated more firmly, looking down at her again. “She made it pretty fucking clear she doesn’t want to talk to me, and I’m not gonna get my head blown off for trying to get her to talk about her best friend behind his back.”

Charlie frowned. “…you know her better than the rest of us do, Husk,” she said. “At least, from what I hear.”

“She did used to hang out at the bar a lot when she was here,” Vaggie added suspiciously.

“Because she drinks like alcohol is her replacement for oxygen,” Husk grumbled.

Niffty made a noise of frustration and stood up on the couch (probably only because she wasn’t wearing shoes), leaning in to Husk’s face and pointing at the door. He immediately leaned away from her, stopped by the arm of the couch from escaping, his eyes wide and his ears flicked back. “Look,” Niffty said firmly. “I don’t care if you have weird hangups, and I don’t care if you’re not a real bad boy! You’re gonna man up and you’re gonna talk to her and you’re gonna figure out how we can help Alastor and Angel!”

Husk held one hand up. “Shit, Niff, okay, fine, chill the fuck out. I’ll try to talk to her tomorrow, okay?”

Immediately, Niffty brightened. “Good!” she chirped, reaching up to pat the top of his hat before she hopped down to sit on the couch again.

“Um… thank you, Niffty, Husk,” Charlie said, smiling at them. “I guess that’s all we can do for now. We’ll keep an eye on them until we find out more.” Both Alastor and Angel were so volatile, there was no telling how they would respond to any level of probing.

It wasn’t long before they disbanded and headed off to their separate rooms. Charlie hesitated outside Angel’s door, debating knocking to see if he was okay, but she didn’t hear any sounds inside. Was he asleep? After a few seconds, she thought better of it, following after Vaggie and closing the door to their bedroom behind her.

It wasn’t until they had both dressed for bed and Charlie sat on the edge of the mattress, yawning, that Vaggie caught her hand and drew her attention. “Charlie… are you okay?”

Charlie looked at her. “I’m fine!” she said, far too brightly. It was hard not to cringe at her own tone, especially since Vaggie’s face told her that the angel could tell, too. “…why do you ask?”

“It’s… kind of obvious, babe,” Vaggie said carefully. “I know I don’t really get the whole soul mark thing, but I could tell it was getting you down. Is it because you don’t have one?”

“Oh, no, it isn’t that,” Charlie said with a quiet sigh. “It was just… it was my parents,” she said, looking away.

Vaggie waited for her to expand on that, but when she didn’t, she asked, “Because they don’t have them?”

“No, it…” Charlie exhaled in a huff that ruffled her hair briefly. “They didn’t have them, no, not for a long time. …my dad doesn’t know that I know this, but… when I was little, after I had been put to bed, I heard them arguing. They didn’t really do that, ever, so I got worried, and I…”

“…you went to see what was wrong.” Vaggie smiled a little. “You haven’t changed much.”

Charlie almost giggled. “I guess not,” she said, returning the tiny smile before looking down at her lap again. “I went to their bedroom door and listened. I just wanted to make sure they were okay. And I found out my dad…” She twisted her hands in the soft silk of her pants. “…my dad manifested a soul mate mark. And my mom didn’t. And… and his wasn’t for her.” She gestured loosely and meaninglessly. “He said that it didn’t matter, that he didn’t care about a mark, but for some reason she really, really did. It… I don’t think it ruined their marriage, but it sped it up, or made it worse, or… well, it didn’t help, at least. All it did was hurt them. I just don’t want to see that happen to Alastor and Angel, too. I don’t want this to hurt them.”

“Hey.” Vaggie took both of her hands in her own and made Charlie look at her, squeezing gently. “It won’t,” she said. “We won’t let anything happen to them, okay? We’ll find out what’s happening and we’ll figure it out.”

It was more complicated than that. Charlie knew that. But she knew Vaggie knew it, too, and arguing wouldn’t help. She had to believe everything was going to be okay. She had to. “Yeah,” Charlie said, giving Vaggie a smile that she didn’t feel, but she would soon. “We will.”

•••

Rage was exhausting.

It was even worse when rage was all you had to fuel yourself.

Valentino made another circuit of his room, his mind a cyclone of rage and half-formed plots with no middle part and a sickening feeling of Want that he had always associated with Angel Dust and had only grown darker, heavier… nauseating. The fact that his amorcito didn’t wear his mark was insulting enough.

But to know, beyond doubt, that he wore Alastor’s? That his beloved pet’s flesh was marred with an image bestowed by the soul of the Radio Demon?

How much am I going to have to lose to that fucking broken, psychotic little cervid? First Vox, and now…

Valentino seized a statue and threw it to the ground, where it shattered tile and burst in a cloud of stone dust. He didn’t even hear the door open, but he did hear it close.

“Val.”

Valentino tensed, his wings twitching on his back, before he looked over his shoulder. Vox was wearing his annoyed but resigned expression, his tie and hat gone, his jacket open, and everything about his demeanor suggestive of a very long day. The other overlord was watching him, and Valentino got the distinct impression that he was the current primary cause of that exhaustion.

“What the fuck do you want?” Valentino asked.

Vox’s eyebrow lowered further. “Look. I get it. You’re pissed,” he said, coming further into the room and waving away a small, lingering cloud of Val’s smoke. “But you have got to chill the fuck out about this.”

“How do you expect me to do that?!” Valentino snarled, rounding on Vox, his wings spreading outwards slightly on instinct. “How am I supposed to ignore this, Vox?!”

“Because… Angel Dust and Alastor are spending time together,” Vox said; it was phrased as a statement, but Valentino knew a question when he heard one.

Valentino forced his wings to lower, focusing on the light of Vox’s face. “…how have you not put this together yet?”

“Put what together?”

“They are soulmates, Vox!”

Valentino’s voice echoed in the sudden silence of the room. Vox’s eyes were wide as he blinked once, twice… and then his expression collapsed and he started laughing. To anyone else, it was a terrifying declaration of his mirth, but to Valentino… to Valentino, it was Vox’s disbelieving rage bursting forth in the only form it could without erupting from him as a scream. “You’re not fucking serious!” Vox cackled, his eyes flying wide as he stared at Valentino. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that Alastor has a soulmate? And that it’s your little arachnid whore?!”

Valentino narrowed his eyes, waiting for the sound of Vox’s laughter to die enough to speak over it. “I’ve seen Angel Dust’s mark many, many times. It’s a deer skull, complete with antlers. So you tell me, Vox. Angel Dust’s deer skull soul mark comes alive. He tells us that he has no relationship to break with his soul mate. And now, Angel Dust is seen alone, at a night club, dancing with the Radio Demon, who happens to be a deer. Is that the action your precious rival would take if Angel’s mark was unreciprocated? That would be very kind of him.”

Vox’s eyes were still wide, but his laughter had died down. His lip was curled just slightly, and it kept twitching, like he was fighting the urge to bare his teeth. “Val…”

Valentino knew he was pushing Vox, but he couldn’t make himself stop. “Sounds more like Alastor must have a little spider somewhere on his untouchable skin. Wonder how that interaction must have gone down, don’t you, mi amore? And if Alastor has Angel Dust’s soul mark, it makes you wonder what they might be doing right now—!!”

Valentino’s voice left him as his airflow was choked off by something cold, hard, and oddly flexible. He reached up and felt what had wrapped around his throat—a cable, one of the thousands that Vox had threaded through the building and could control with what was functionally Wi-Fi but might as well have just been his mind—as it tightened and yanked him backwards until he lost his footing and hit the ground. His glasses skidded across the tile floor with a soft clatter, and Vox’s sharp heeled boots clicked ominously as he moved to stand over the supine moth.

“I told you,” Vox said, in a voice full of a strange and deadly stillness, “to calm down. You will cooperate, or I will beat you into submission.”

Valentino gritted his teeth, stilling in his struggles against the cable around his throat… but it was a different feeling, the memory of something else latched around his neck, that truly made him stop. That cold, heavy, sharp, always present, blinding electric blue…

why did I let myself give it to you

Valentino nodded, just once. Vox’s eye twitched, and the cable released him, allowing him to gasp air back into his lungs. He rolled over onto his side, pushing two of his hands against the floor to keep himself up.

He could feel Vox staring at him, but soon, the other overlord turned on his heel and began slowly pacing a short distance back and forth. “Let’s say you’re right,” Vox said. “Angel Dust is well aware of his deadline, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Valentino rasped. He didn’t push himself to his feet. There were times that he could test Vox. There were times that he was even Vox’s equal. This, very clearly, was not one of those times.

“…well,” Vox said, thoughtful. “More than likely, Alastor will take care of breaking the bond for us. Not by killing him,” he said, when Valentino moved to protest, “simply by being himself. I know Alastor. He destroys everything he touches. He can’t help himself.”

Valentino swallowed past the rage in his throat. “…and if he doesn’t?”

“If he doesn’t, and if Angel Dust fails, then you will simply keep him here.”

Vox cast him a look, and Valentino knew he could stand up, getting to his feet. “Keep him here?”

“If Angel Dust fails to break the bond by his deadline…” Vox placed Valentino’s glasses in the moth’s hand, slowly folding Valentino’s fingers over them. “We will retrieve him. We have assassins on retainer, I’m sure they will be able to handle him if they catch him off guard. And then, you simply won’t let him leave.”

Valentino didn’t know what Vox was planning. It was something—Vox never proposed a plan if he didn’t have seven other unspoken reasons that he wanted it done—and it probably had to do with Alastor, because when it came to Vox… it almost always had to do with Alastor.

Valentino thought about the arch of his own foot, where he bore those strange lines that he hadn’t understood until he’d seen them on one of Vox’s electrical blueprints. When he’d asked, Vox had been in a patient mood, and had described them as the electrical symbols that represented a battery of three cells and variable resistance.

He didn’t tell Vox why he asked, but he still wondered if Vox had an antlered deer somewhere on his skin, too. He wondered, but he didn’t ask, because he didn’t want to know.

Vox was pacing again, and Valentino delicately cleaned his glasses, replacing them. “He won’t be happy,” he said. “Mi amorcito is very vocal about his freedoms, and the princessa seems to think she can exert her authority over us. Are you prepared to deal with that?”

“We will be,” Vox said. He walked up to Valentino and placed his hands on the taller sinner’s shoulders, smiling up at him as he squeezed. “Whether they break the bond or not, it won’t matter. We will take care of it is they don’t, and either way, we will make sure Angel Dust never leaves your side again, if that’s what you want.”

Valentino nodded once, resisting the temptation to bare his teeth again. “I still want to kill Alastor.”

Vox tightened his grip for just a second. “You let me handle Alastor. Don’t worry,” he added, slipping back into that voice that Velvette called his ‘placating Val’ voice. “I promise you, you’ll get all the violent revenge on Alastor you could possibly want.”

Valentino smirked. “You’re so good at talking dirty to me, baby.”

Vox laughed softly, his voice crackling with electricity. “I’ll make your wait worth it, my little white witch. I promise. And I always keep my promises, don’t I?”

“…yes, Voxxy. Always.”

•••

The next couple of days were some of the most surreal in Angel Dust’s life. He was technically still in a recovery period after his last filming session, which meant some time to himself that he was supposed to use for recuperation. It was the only thing he’d ever been grateful to Vox for… well, that, and everything else that he was granted in the name of ‘the image’. It didn’t matter why Angel had the days off, of course, because it meant no VoxTek, no shoots, and (most importantly) no Valentino.

Usually, Angel spent these days doing anything except resting, usually getting out, going to clubs, getting his hands on drugs he wasn’t supposed to have, and staying out all night. Usually. But the night after Alastor showed Angel his radio tower, the spider woke up at a reasonable time, and even though it wasn’t quite noon yet… he felt good.

Angel touched his lips, remembering the warmth of Alastor pressed against him what felt like only minutes ago. The weight of his brow against Angel’s own, the sharp touch of his claws that could have gutted him but only gently grazed his skin, the anxious flutter of his breath as he tried to keep his murderous impulses under control…

…yeah. The fact that Angel thought Alastor controlling his murderous impulses was sweet… that was concerning. So was the fact that Alastor still smelled like death and blood, and it had been almost overpowering so close, but Angel hadn’t cared. Maybe he hadn’t even minded.

“Nuggs, I think I’m nuts.”

Angel rolled out of bed, dressed, and had just stepped into the hallway with a mind towards finding some breakfast or something when movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Angel turned on his heel and saw a shadow disappear around a corner, and he couldn’t control the smile that practically burst onto his face at just that little glimpse.

“I saw you,” he said in a teasing voice, clasping his hands behind his back and taking a few steps towards the corner. “Why’re you hiding from me, big boy?”

Alastor’s shadow peeked around the corner, a funny image since it was plastered to the wall, and gave Angel a grin that almost looked shy. When Angel didn’t balk, the shadow came out of hiding entirely, swooping around Angel’s own shadow and sending a terrifying chill down his spine that made him giggle. It felt, somehow, like something had actually swirled around him for a moment. As though the shadow had realized that Angel was happy to see it, the form raised its hand and beckoned for Angel to follow before its smile widened and it seemed to fly down the corridor.

“Ah— wait!” Angel said, hurrying after it, but he only got halfway down the hall before a hand reached out from a small alcove and grabbed him by the wrist. He was pulled into the alcove with a sharp squeak, the force sending him into a dizzying little spin before he was suddenly pinned with his back against the wall.

“Hello, sha.”

Angel laughed breathlessly, blinking his dizziness away only to find himself looking into Alastor’s gently glowing eyes. “Holy shit, Smiles, you scared the fuck outta me. You coulda just knocked or somethin’, you know.”

“Oh, I know. This was more fun,” Alastor said with a sinister grin, tilting his head to the side. He the reset to his neutral smile as Angel laughed again. “I didn’t know if you’d be awake.”

“Did you send your shadow to spy or something?”

“Not… precisely.” He paused, and Angel felt one of Alastor’s claws stroke along the inside of his wrist. “…admittedly, I wasn’t sure you would want to see me right now.”

Angel snorted quietly and, clearly telegraphing his movements, he raised his higher set of arms to wrap loosely around Alastor’s shoulders. “Why wouldja think a silly thing like that?”

“Thought you might have come to your senses about last night.”

“I don’t got senses.” Angel regarded him thoughtfully. “Thought you hated being touched.”

“Oh, I do,” Alastor said brightly. “And I wouldn’t recommend initiating anything like this yourself. I’ve been told I’m a little volatile!” The sheer, absurd cheer in his voice made Angel laugh again. Alastor’s expression grew a little more subdued, but his smile was no less genuine. “…there is something… different about you, Angel. I don’t mean to be trite, but your touch… The touch of others can feel like shards of glass even through my coat, but you are… soft,” he said finally, like the word wasn’t adequate but he couldn’t come up with another one.

Angel tilted back against the wall. “This part of what you want to figure out?”

“If you’ll permit it.”

“And then what?”

Alastor tilted his head, a brief buzz of confused static filling the alcove.

Angel grinned. “I mean… what happens when you figure it out?”

“No idea!” Alastor said. “That’s the fun of it, my dear, don’t you think? I never know how I might respond from one moment to the next!”

“Hoo boy,” Angel said, rolling his eyes. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. “Okay, fine. But I got a couplea conditions here.”

Alastor’s eyebrow went up. “I’m listening.”

“First, you gotta tell me how you’re doin’. And I mean, whenever you think it’s important, no matter how much it changes up.”

“Fair enough. And?”

“And, if your mood changes while we’re doin’ somethin’ like this, you ain’t allowed to freak out on me. I ain’t losin’ a hand or worse just cause you suddenly decided you don’t wanna be touched anymore. Just… tell me, and I’ll back off, I promise. Kay?”

“Communication. Lovely!” Alastor chirped. “This must be that elusive consent that’s so difficult to come by down here.”

“Exactly. Easy, and then I don’t lose an arm. Or a kidney.”

“Unless you consent to that.”

“Don’t you dare threaten me with a good time.”

Alastor smiled at that, hesitated, and then kissed Angel again.

It was very much the same as the night before, though more confident and certain. Afterwards, he released the spider and headed off through his shadows to do his work, and Angel was left to hum to himself as he practically danced down the hallway and the stairs to the kitchen.

That was all Angel needed to make up his mind about whether or not he was spending the day in the hotel. He suddenly became the most suspiciously helpful being in the hotel, giving Charlie a hand with her filing and aiding Niffty in some cleaning and organizing. He caught up on some of his knitting and a bit of reading, he did some prep work in the kitchen, and he took Nuggets out for a walk in the hotel’s small garden. All throughout the day, to the bewilderment of everyone else, he would randomly disappear as a hand snatched him into a shadowy corner to whisper to him, to kiss him, to make him laugh into his own hands to stay quiet. Then, Angel would emerge, and no one would see him reappear, just as they hadn’t seen him vanish… but they all knew he was gone.

It was exhilarating, in a way; thrilling, even though it seemed so low-stakes in the safety of the hotel, to be sneaking around under everyone else’s noses. Alastor seemed to be enjoying it, too, his smile brighter than usual as he tended to hotel business with Charlie or harassed Husk (though Angel thought he seemed more good-natured than usual even in that).

The next day was much the same, until two o’clock rolled around. Angel was curled up in a chair, counting in his head as he worked on his knitting, when Alastor’s voice just behind him made him jump.

“Hello, Angel.”

“Oh my fuck hi Alastor,” Angel said, frowning almost immediately. “Aww, you made me drop a stitch.”

“Terribly sorry, my dear,” Alastor said with a smile that didn’t look sorry at all. “I was heading out on an errand and I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been shut away for nearly two days now. I thought you might like to come with me.”

“Really?” Angel asked, perking up slightly and setting his knitting down. He could fix it later. “Sure, Al, sounds good.”

Unlike the last time they left the hotel together, nobody stopped them, but Angel could feel eyes following them as they headed out again. Alastor didn’t seem bothered by it, going so far as to comment as soon as they were out of earshot, “Don’t worry about them, my dear. If they have concerns, I have little doubt that they will be addressing them to me before you, and I will do my level best to redirect their attention before you fall victim to yet another interrogation.”

“I appreciate that, Smiles,” Angel said as his phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw Cherri had texted him, opening it up. “Where we goin’?”

< “hey bitch do u no y husk called me” >

Angel raised an eyebrow at his phone as Alastor said, “Simply dropping off Charlie’s restocking order for her, nothing taxing. I thought we might take a walk after, if you were interested.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Angel said, firing off a text response.

< “Sorry, bb, aint got no idea, did he leave a message?” >

“Everything alright?” Alastor asked. He actually sounded interested.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I think so,” Angel said. “Cherri said Husk called her.”

“Really…” Alastor sounded keenly interested now. “Old Husker, calling Miss Cherri Bomb. Oh, that is a very interesting tidbit of information.”

Angel looked at him. “You’d better not harass him over this—!” He jumped a little when his phone vibrated again.

< “lol fuck no he didnt, called yesterday n today, thot u mite no if smth was wrong” >

“Are those words?” Alastor asked, the sneer audible in his voice.

Angel jumped and pressed his phone into his chest fluff. “Don’t read my phone!”

“I didn’t,” Alastor said with an airy shrug and an unconvincingly innocent smile. “There was nothing to read, simply gibberish.”

Angel laughed quietly, texting back. “We come from the same era, old man, get with the times.”

“I refuse.”

< “Sorry hon, guess you gotta call him back” >

Angel pocketed his phone again and didn’t bother looking when it vibrated again, since it was probably just Cherri cursing at him. “Whaddya got against technology, anyway?”

“I find it an unnecessary distraction.”

Angel snorted. “You wouldn’t be able to figure out a smart phone to save your life.”

Alastor glanced at him, his eyes narrowed and his smile sharp. “Of course I could. Trivial. I simply feel no need to.”

“Sure, sure.”

“I know when I am being baited, Angel Dust. I will not permit you to do it.”

“Okay, sure, be that way, big bad Radio Demon.”

Alastor made a noise that sounded like an annoyed radio, and Angel couldn’t help laughing… but that was mostly because Alastor’s smile was still one of the most genuine Angel had ever seen.

•••

If th’ boys don’t get here soon, I ain’t gonna be responsible for them missin’ shit.

Just Millie’s luck, she supposed, that she would be the one on truck duty when the alarm went off and the surveillance camera informed her, mostly because of its scrambled image, that the Radio Demon had just left the hotel. She immediately fired off messages to Moxxie, Blitzø, and Loona (if Blitzø wanted her out then he would have to nut up and talk to her himself, she wasn’t gonna exclude the girl to make his job easier) before grabbing the equipment VoxTek had provided and hurrying out of the van.

The Radio Demon was very easy to spot, as was his companion, Angel Dust. As she followed them, Millie found herself either thinking about how cool this job was or how much better Angel Dust’s legs looked in person, both of which were not the mission. But it was the Radio Demon!

Just her luck that the one time she got an opportunity to meet him, it was through stalking him and she wasn’t actually allowed to talk to him. What a load of horseshit.

Millie kept an eye on her coworkers’ locations, but she knew she would be doing most of this herself, so she just stuck to the program as she followed the two to some kind of emporium where Alastor talked to someone behind a counter for a brief moment, and then the two left again and just started… walking around.

It wasn’t long before Millie figured out what they were doing. Casually strolling, chatting, occasionally pausing to point at something in a store… they were window shopping and going for a walk. Millie frowned to herself, wondering just what the hell made the Vees so interested in this; it looked very casual, nothing secretive or threatening, no plots being made… Why did they care so much?

From across the street and positioned behind a dumpster, Millie raised the camera that would automatically take a long series of rapid-fire pictures (necessary for Alastor, according to Vox), and she watched the two of them through the lens. They were both looking at something through a window, Angel Dust pointing, before they turned at the same time to look at each other. Millie pressed the button, and the camera began taking its pictures, just as Alastor raised his hand and brushed a stray shred of burned fabric from the pyre on the next street from Angel Dust’s hair.

Millie’s eyes widened a little and she lowered the camera, then she crouched fully behind the dumpster and looked at the screen on the back. She pulled up the previews of the images she had just took, then flipped through them to roughly the middle of the set.

They were both smiling, which seemed normal for the Radio Demon, but Millie was pretty sure this was different. Angel Dust was giggling, his cheeks pink, and Alastor’s expression… she had seen a look like that before.

She had seen it on Moxxie, the evening of their first real date, when he came to pick her up and saw her in the dress she had bought special, just for the occasion.

“You look… beautiful, Millie.”

Millie lowered the camera and stared at the ground. Suddenly, she had a very, very sick feeling about this job.

•••

Val: Makes you wonder what they’re doing RIGHT NOW

Well going by the timing they were probably making out in Alastor’s radio tower, Val