#they'd be FIGHTING to be the first one to use their parents' names on their own kids

[pearlcscent]

just did a ferricamo family tree for funsies and i’m going insane

[inkskinned]

it's hard to explain because inevitably you sound like an asshole, but some people are allowed to lose their temper, lose their mind - you're not, though.

when your friend never texts you first and misses your birthday and never makes an effort; you don't mind. you know she's struggling, and you want her to get the help that she deserves. you give her every excuse and every chance.

it shouldn't matter to you so much that people are always coming through for her. you want her to be happy, you love it for her. you love that her community rises up to the occasion. why does it bother you that when she snaps at someone, says horrible mean things - but two hours later, everyone is comforting her while she's crying. you know she's stressed. why do you kind of hate that she is welcomed back to her job, that her parents are endlessly wiring her money.

and you're - fuck, are you envious?

but when you don't text back, someone sits you down and says i know you're struggling, but you're being a bad friend. when you're too numb to show up for work, your boss just shakes his head. i'm sorry. i can't approve more time off. we have the company to protect. when you finally snap back at your family for making that shitty comment again, you're forced to apologize for being too sensitive.

god forbid you need something. people aren't used to you being the one asking. you're the giver like the book you hated; your pages all open and rumpled. you always have the answer, always have the solution. you are reliable, trustworthy. people like you don't struggle with things. you're supposed to be lifted by tragedy. you are given a maximum of 24 hours to grieve, and then you need to just behave at the party.

you can't read the giving tree without feeling like crying, and even that feels like it's too much emotion. like, nobody looks at you and assumes you're the tree; they'd name five other people before even considering you in the running. you're just there, never-asking.

your friend gets to say mean shit, that's just her personality. when you make a snide comment, you're just being petty. people laugh when your friend stands you up for another event; they say she's just like that. you were 5 minutes late to a meeting with friends and they were mad about it for the rest of the evening. your friend sets everything on fire; everyone applauds her through the ashes. you so much as light a candle: and suddenly now you're an arsonist.

you don't want your friend to suffer, though. the thing is that you just wish that the empathy and kindness your friend gets - you wish you had that option, that everyone offered you grace and money and a gentle reception.

the other day you were fighting down the bad urge; the void call, the end note. you tried-anyway. you went to the family event, tried laughing at the right moments. nodded and smiled and all of it. one of your siblings threw a fit, but she's allowed to, so everyone just rolled their eyes about it. you took 3 whole minutes to stand outside when you got overwhelmed. you literally set a timer about it.

in the morning you woke up to a text from your parents: you were a complete disgrace last night. idk what your attitude problem is, but you really need to fix it.

[bumblesimagines]

Burning Love

Request: Yes or No

Summary: As the eldest son and heir to the Iron Throne, Prince (Y/N) Targaryen has many responsibilities; most of which his darling sister hopes to share with him one day.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Targcest/Incest (Full-blooded Brother-Sister), Aemma lives!! and Alicent is not a childbride, mentions of stillbirths and miscarriages (Aemma's pregnancies)

Collecting HOTD oneshots like pokemon cards at this point

~~~

It was known that Targaryens had... questionable traditions. Traditions those with outsider perspective could only force themself to understand.

There was the act of putting a dragon egg in the cradle of a babe and hoping the egg would hatch sometime soon after to ensure the babe was bonded to a loyal protector they'd grow up alongside of; a tradition started by Rhaena Targaryen, eldest daughter of King Aenys I and Queen Alyssa Velaryon. Targaryens were Dragonriders, bonded with the very beasts they used to conquer the lands and pull them all into one kingdom (with the exception of Dorne, of course). They cremated their dead, a custom from Old Valyria, often with the help of a dragon belonging to their closest kin. 

And of course, the most infamous and often looked down upon custom, wedding kin to kin. Another custom from Old Valyria that many followers of the Seven turned their cheek upon, for they found the act of wedding siblings to siblings and so forth (apart from cousin to cousin) a sin. Faithful followers could voice their complaints as much as they wished, but Targaryens were kings, queens, princes, and princesses. Nobody could or would stop them from keeping their bloodline pure if they so wished. 

Descending from a long, historic, and proud family, Rhaenyra grew up listening and learning the tales of those who'd come before her. Aegon the Conquer and his faithful sister-wives, Rhaenys and Visenya; the many rebellions and fighting brought on during the lives of King Aenys I and King Maegor the Cruel; The Old King Jaehaerys who'd chosen her father, Viserys, as heir over his own late heir's daughter, Rhaenys; and of course, the histories written during the early stages of her father's reign. 

Her beloved older brother had been two when King Jaehaerys named their father heir and three when their father ascended the throne whilst their beautiful mother, Aemma Arryn, carried her in the womb. The fourth person to ever hold little Rhaenyra in their arms had been her brother, closely supervised by their parents and the maester attending the birth, of course. With a healthy son and daughter, Viserys and Aemma hardly needed for more children, but they tried anyway. Their attempts never carried to term, however, and any little ones that did were either stillborn or died mere hours or days after birth. 

Still, Rhaenyra never needed for any more siblings. Her brother was enough, in her humble opinion. He cared for her diligently, especially during their younger years when he eagerly wished to play with her, even if it meant the two of them being gently scolded at the end of the day for dirting Rhaenyra's dresses with mud and dirt. (Y/N) treated her as his equal, even showing her how to use a wooden sword when he began his training and helping prepare her for dragon-riding on Syrax. His own mount hardly needed much training in the Dragonpit, for the mighty Vermithor's first rider had been the Old King.

As time passed, the siblings were forced apart more often than Rhaenyra enjoyed. She'd made up her mind long ago that she and (Y/N) would one day be wed, and she'd be his formidable sister-wife. Their parents merely chuckled about it when she'd first told them at the age of seven, her squeaky voice and flushed cheeks only drawing cooing from Aemma and sweet smiles from Viserys. The absence of her brother had been stark, his time taken up by training, studying, and spending time with the Small Council, but Alicent Hightower had quickly taken his spot as Rhaenyra's companion. 

However, in due time, (Y/N) became man-grown, and while Rhaenyra quickly followed with her flowering, as heir and prince, (Y/N) became the most eligible bachelor in all of Westeros. It took time for it to become apparent to Rhaenyra but her eyes and ears opened when she heard their parents speaking of it. Many families, highborn and lowborn, offered their daughters through letters or visits to Kings Landing. Lannisters, Baratheons, Starks, Brackens, Blackwoods, Tullys, and plenty more came forth. Even Otto Hightower made a passing comment about wedding Alicent to him. It was infuriating.

"In truth, I do not understand your irritation, Rhaenyra," Alicent spoke gently, her slender fingers working on embroidery. A flower she'd seen in the gardens, or something along those lines. Rhaenyra hadn't truly been paying attention to her dear friend. She'd been too focused on silently fuming at the sight of her brother showing one of the highborn ladies around the Red Keep. Every giggle, every blush, every bat of her eyelashes made Rhaenyra tick. "It's wonderful to watch one's brother fall in love."

"You wouldn't understand, Alicent." Rhaenyra sighed. "It is like the love King Jaeherys and the Good Queen Alysanne had."

Alicent faltered at her words, her head lifting to eye her friend with a small grimace. "You do remember our lessons, correct? King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne had to wed in secret, for they knew that not even their mother approved in fear of another uprising from the Faith. Nobody has made a fuss over your parents since they are cousins, but who knows what may happen if you wed (Y/N)."

"(Y/N) is everything King Jaehaerys was, Alicent. He is beloved by the Realm." Rhaenyra reminded her friend with a small smile, pushing herself off the cushioned seats and smoothing her hands over the front of her dress. Her earrings swung slightly when she tilted her head slightly to the side, the ends of them brushing against her shoulders. Her eyes tracked (Y/N) as he lifted the lady's hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles before departing. "He will be a good king, and if I could prove it, I would be a good queen. His queen." Her feet began moving automatically. 

"Rhaenyra," The name tumbled out of Alicent's mouth, her hands fumbling with the items in hand. "Where are you going?"

Bunching up the skirt of her dress in her hands, Rhaenyra grinned over her shoulder and chuckled at the concerned look on Alicent's features that only grew at the sight of her mischievous glint. "To speak with my brother!" 

With a goal in mind, Rhaenyra entered the castle and followed the distant figure of her brother as he cut down hallways with long strides until he reached his bedchambers. Rhaenyra took a moment to herself to catch her breath and rake her fingers through her long silver locks before she approached the doors and nodded for the guards to open them. She stepped inside, a smile appearing across her lips when (Y/N) turned to look at her. 

"My favorite sister," (Y/N) cooed, taking a seat at his desk and unrolling a letter. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes in return, clasping her hands together behind her back and taking small steps toward him. He skimmed the contents of the letter, his face giving away nothing of what it spoke of. "Is there something you require, Nyra, or are you suffering from boredom? I have plenty of lords and ladies who'd be happy to keep you busy." 

Rhaenyra scoffed quietly and (Y/N) gave a small grin. "I hear Father is urging you to find a wife."

"The Small Council is urging him to urge me, more like. They believe it is time to begin having children. Seeing as Father and Mother had great difficulty, they wish for me to have an heir by the time I ascend the throne to ensure there won't be issues later on." (Y/N) explained, coiling the letter back up and pulling out a blank paper. He dipped his quill in ink and began writing. "Otto has been... more friendly as of recently. He speaks incredibly highly of Lady Alicent." 

"You'd tell me if you were interested in someone, wouldn't you?" Rhaenyra reached over the desk to pluck the quill from his fingers, setting it aside and raising her brows at him. (Y/N) slumped back in his seat and laced his fingers over his midsection, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes. Rhaenyra rounded the table and without thinking twice, she plopped down on his thigh. 

"Nyra,"

"You know as well as I do who you should wed, (Y/N). I know what a good queen should be, and I do not care about status or riches like the families of those ladies do. We have the blood of the dragon in our veins. Nobody would truly understand us." Rhaenyra spoke softly, her bottom lip slightly jutting out as she placed her palm over his cheek. His own hands unlaced, one moving to press against her back. 

"The Small Council-"

"Fuck the Small Council." Rhaenyra huffed, earning a quiet chuckle from her brother. "You are the prince, the heir. Whatever it is you choose, they must deal with it. It is their job to counsel, to offer their advice and opinions, not to dictate what you do. We could mount Syrax and Vermithor and fly elsewhere to wed in the customs of Old Valyria." 

A gentle sigh escaped (Y/N), and he leaned forward to press a delicate kiss to Rhaenyra's shoulder. The princess relaxed at the action, her hand moving past his cheek to the back of his head. (Y/N)'s lips curled up. "You are insufferable." He told her with a gentle laugh before leaning in to press their mouths together. He drew back too quickly for Rhaenyra's liking. "But a good ruler is a patient one, Nyra. If you wish for us to wed, or to lay together-" He brushed their lips together teasingly. "-you must wait. Father and Mother will be easy to convince." 

"Does it matter if we wait?" Rhaenyra tilted her head and batted her lashes coyly, the feigned innocence prompting (Y/N) to roll his eyes. She rose from his lap and dropped her hands to his, tugging on them until he stood up from the chair. She smiled widely, devilishly even, and slung her arms around his shoulders. "We will be wed, regardless. It will not matter." 

"I have things I must do, Nyra." (Y/N) gave a heavy sigh and shrugged his shoulders, his hands coming to rest on her waist. "As I said, you must be patient. If you wish to speed things along, you should speak with Mother. She'll always be the key to winning Father over." He told her and planted a kiss on her temple before settling back down on the chair. 

"Will we be like that someday?" Rhaenyra asked softly, stepping out of the way so he could resume his letter. She toyed with the rings along her fingers, the thought of becoming one of those couples who genuinely cared for each other bringing a smile to herself. It was a desire all ladies had. While sons could marry whichever woman of age they desired, ladies had to hope the husbands their fathers or elder brothers chose were good men. She'd seen far too many times the faces of girls her age married and chained to men old enough to be their grandfathers. 

(Y/N) paused his writing and lifted his head to look at her, offering a reassuring smile. "Someday." He nodded. 

"I look forward to it, then."

[sorcerous-caress]

Type of romantic gifts they'd give you

[Bg3, fluff, nb!reader]

[Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Shadowheart, Astarion, Laezel, Halsin, Minthara, Karniss]

Wyll

Flowers. Each bouquet conveys a different meaning and tells a hundred tales about his feelings for you. From the petal colours to the delicate ribbon holding the stems together, not a single detail was overlooked.

Enteries to both worlds. Invites to the most eloquent galas reserved for the noble class, elegent clothes and glittering jewellery. And warm heartfelt welcomes into the most popular tavrens for adventurers, even the dangerous ones greet you and Wyll with cold drinks and a warm meal.

A shoulder to lean on, someone to be your own hero. The royalty treatment becomes the norm for you, a quiet dance in your shared home, swaying slowly as the rain scatters against the windows outside.

.

Karlach

Cheesy handmade coupons for hugs. Physical affection is a big part of the way she shows love, yet no hugs feel better than the ones she knows both of you want, rather than only her. These hand drawn coupons are to give her reassurance in a way that you also crave her embrace as much as she does.

Taking you out to her favourite spots. Introducing you to all her past and current friends. Absolutely involving you in every aspect of her inner circles and slowly integrating you into her world. She wants all the people that she loves to know each other, to be there, and to support each other. Friends, family, and neighbours, she craves a community.

Carrying your stuff. Be it your bags, equipment, or anything. She enjoys being strong for you, never letting you lift a heavy thing ever. Giving you her jacket if you get cold, even switching your shoes if yours are uncomfortable. Dress however you want, she knows how to fight after all.

.

Gale

Homecooked meals. Frozen soup in food containers. You'll never go hungry with him around. Love is a major ingredient in each dish he makes, recipes passed down from generations. Restaurants' food becomes dull in comparison. No bakery dessert can compare to his home baked pie.

A picnic near the sea side. It's windy, the air is refreshing and nice. Waves come crashing gently, almost brushing against your feet before retreating back. Tara purrs in your lap, her wings warming your hand underneath it as you scratch her fur. Gale is by your side, telling you about a new discovery he made in his research. Content in staying by your side despite the crown laying at the bottom of the ocean in front of you.

Constellations seeming brighter, the sky looks as if it held twice as many stars than usual. There's a sparkle in his eyes, wrinkles at their edges from his smile.

.

Shadowheart

Wine/non-alcoholic drinks and sweets. She has a taste for delicacies and sharing them with you. Whatever she picks, it's always somehow very rich in flavour, melts against the tongue, and the aftertaste is an experience by itself.

Takes you to her home, visiting her parents who welcomed you as if you were another child of theirs. For the first time in her life, she has a family, and she wants to include you in it. You are a part of it, after all. A part of her.

Nursing your sickness away, sticking with you through thick and thin. Even at your most ill of states. She doesn't pat an eye at you throwing up, sneezing, or not having the energy to shower. She helps you through it. She never judges you over it, unconditional love in its purest forms as she ensures your recovery.

.

Astarion

Precious poetry he wrote himself. As much as he scoffs over anything too chessy, he can't help using his mother tongue and spinning endless lines about you in elvish in his private journal. On the rare occasion, giving you a glimpse through it. Pretending to leave his journal open by pure coincidence in front of you, on the exact page of the peom with your name on it.

The both of you traverse the underdark. He takes you to a special spot he found under a sussur tree. The blue glow of the silver branches lights up the edges of his hair like a halo, and your eyelids feel heavy with your head on his lap.

Stiching the holes in your clothes. Maintaining them in his free time and making sure they are cared for. Each piece that might hold a sentimental value to you or a precious memory receives special treatment from him. Sometimes, he stiches a joke or two into your undergarments that you don't realise until much later on.

.

Laezel

Gifts you a sharp and expertly smithed sword. Silver in colour with various ruby red stones decorating the handle, it feels at home in your grip, specifically made for your hands.

Takes you as her guide through Faerun, let's you introduce her to the places you love, the things you like. You can tell her interest is genuine, he curiosity is evident as she tries everything you recommend to her.

Reads to you, each night she'd indulge your curiosities and read one of the many githyanki literature disks you've accumulated. Her voice never tires, she pronounces each word with care and emotion. It's beyond soothing, even her comments inbetween narrating the story never fail to make you smile.

.

Halsin

Blessings of nature extend to you as well. The birds don't fly away when you approach, the tree branches don't get caught in your clothes, and the bugs take a polite detour around you as they crawl. He shares the love he received with you.

You've never seen so many children rush to you before, look up to you with respect, and search for guidance. He grants you the opportunity to raise the ones who will hold the torch after us, to imped your wisdom upon them, and help shape a better future.

Never growing cold again, buried deep against his soft fur as gaint bear paws hold you so softly. Despite the pouring snow outside, you sink deeper into his warm embrace. Cute round ears flicker in the corner of your vision, and you can't help but rub them alongside his soft belly.

.

Minthara

jewellery, each one is unique and more expensive than the last. Various earrings with pearls and necklaces with glittering diamonds. Even a special one that hugs your neck deliciously, with her name on it. Body accessories hugging your curves and wrapping around you. A pair of matching rings.

Takes you into her heart, behind the iron walls, behind the mazes of ice. Shows you her tender beating vulnerable flesh, the small kindness she protected so fiercely and hid from the world. Her true love, yours for the taking and yours alone.

The disembodied heads of your enemies in a gift box wrapped for you, everyone who has ever wronged you has their skulls displayed on the shelves. She becomes your blade, your sword and shield.

.

Karniss

Prayers. Offers them to you as he kneels, talking in a hushed tone as he begs a greater being for your safety, for your heart, and for you love. For their blessings upon him to shield you from the darkness, his split mind making him seeth in anger and hatred at all those who dared hurt or question you.

Brings you to his nest, a small cave with tight webs shielding the entrance. He teaches you how to slip through them, holds you close as he lifts you in his arms and makes passage inside. You're a very welcome addition to his home, his sanctuary.

Gifts you his venom regularly. Whether it's a kiss as his fangs slip past your soft lips and bleed venom down your throat, or a bite into the soft flesh of your neck that injects it directly into your veins. He builds up your resistance slowly so he may protect you from himself and anyone who tries to steal your life away.

[otdiaftg]

The King's Men - Chapter Nine

Day: Saturday, January 20th Time: 4:45 PM EST

"I'm tired of being nothing," Neil said. Neil had seen this look on Andrew's face once before, when he and Andrew called a truce in Wymack's living room last summer. Neil fed him half-truths to buy his acceptance, but it wasn't vague descriptions of his parents' crimes and deaths that got through to Andrew. It was his bone-deep jealousy of Kevin, his loneliness and desperation. After everything they'd been through these last few months, Neil finally knew what this look meant. The darkness in Andrew's stare wasn't censure; it was perfect understanding. Andrew had hit this point years ago and broken. Neil was hanging on by a fraying thread and grabbing at anything he could to stay afloat. "You are a Fox. You are always going to be nothing." Andrew stubbed his cigarette out. "I hate you." "Nine percent of the time you don't." "Nine percent of the time I don't want to kill you. I always hate you." "Every time you say that I believe you a little less." "No one asked you." With that, Andrew caught Neil's face in his hands and leaned in. Nicky's drugged assault aside, Neil hadn't kissed anyone in four years. The last girl was a scrawny French-Canadian who'd held him with just her fingertips and kissed like she was afraid of smudging her tacky-bright lipstick. Neil couldn't remember her name or face anymore. He remembered only how unsatisfying the illicit encounter had been and how furious his mother was when she found them. That awkward peck wasn't worth the punishment that had followed. This was nothing like that. Andrew kissed him like this was a fight with their lives on the line, like his world stopped and started with Neil's mouth. Neil's heart stuttered to a stop at the first hard press of lips against his and he reached up without thinking. His hand made it as far as Andrew's jaw before he remembered Andrew didn't like to be touched. Neil caught hold of Andrew's coat sleeve instead and knotted his fingers in the heavy wool.

Art used with permission by Rainbowd00dles. Thank you @rainbowd00dles

[fastcardotmp3]

Steve is the first person Robin ever comes out to.

And it's good, it goes better than she ever could have hoped, it goes miraculously well considering just how reckless she had been about it in hindsight, how nearly accidental and vaguely self-destructive a choice it had been to wield Tammy Thompson's name like that in front of a boy she'd learned to trust within the past six hours.

The thing is, it's good, but she realizes later on that she never actually says the word. The big one, the identifying one, the one that gets thrown around as a slur as often as queer or dyke do towards any girl who dares not present in a specifically feminine way.

It's a bad word, a scary word, a word that drips off tongues like acid and drips drips drips a corrosive hole in Robin's chest every single time because if it's being said in her vicinity that means-- just at any moment-- anyone could figure out--

Robin doesn't care for the act of coming out either in theory or in practice. She believes that anyone she trusts enough to know gets to learn from context clues and anyone she doesn't trust will just never get to know her fully and that's good enough for her.

She doesn't sit her parents down and say, "Mom. Dad. I'm a--"

She doesn't sit her little apocalypse posse down and say, "Just thought you guys should know I'm a--"

She didn't tell Steve.

She doesn't say the word.

Because as much as she's able to accept who she is, it's so hard to claim a word that has been used like a weapon her whole life. Because as much as even her parents and her friends love her for who she is, there is something about saying it like that that makes her wonder if it could sully the support.

As if they'd realize oh, you meant like that...? and change their minds.

It's not until IUPUI, a little house in Indy with Steve, and a little record shop next door to the deli where Eddie got a job slicing meat that she starts seeing that word, feeling it anew.

There are zines at this shop, the ones behind the counter that she's offered after a few visits and a few conversations that she later recognizes as coded and questioning in nature.

There are stories and art and poetry and that word is all over them.

And the thing is? The thing that has Steve finding her crying in their living room one afternoon as she reads through the stack like it holds the answers to the universe?

Is that it is written and spoken and displayed like the most beautiful word in the world.

It's a compliment and a blessing and a brag. It's a little bit of magic and a great deal of history.

It's her, in the end. It's her and it belongs in her mouth, deserves to be spoken, because too many people are out there misusing it like a disgusting thing when it is divine, fucking love incarnate.

Robin tucks into Steve's embrace, his instinct to hold her even as he tries to understand what has her sobbing in the middle of the day, whether or not he needs to fight anyone about it.

He holds her and she holds him back and it only feels right that it happen like this when she takes his face in her hands, shaky but oh, so certain.

Steve was the first person she ever came out to.

If she's going to let the scary word become her favorite the way it is for the people writing it out so proudly, this is probably the place to start.

"Steve Harrington," she beams at the furrow in his brow, those big concerned eyes that she knows will be confused about this, but she knows will only hold her tighter once she explains. "Steve. Stevie. Guess what?"

"What's up?" he laughs, gathering the joy in her tears like she knew he would, and Robin feels something click in the moment before she says it to him.

Out loud and real.

Very nearly holy.

"I'm a fucking lesbian."

[kokoa-la]

Paper Clips Make Good Lock Picks- part two

Part 1

"Still going to ignore me?"

...

"Okay okay you got me. Let's get out of here first. We have an hour and a half before another teacher comes in and watches us for the last 15 minutes."

"What's your name?"

Oh, Danny forgot to introduce himself huh? 

"Danny."

"No last name?" 

"You haven't made it far on the friends list"

"Wow friends already? We just met"

"You're breaking out of detention with me. You picked a lock for me, that's called being friends."

"Do you make all your friends by committing crimes together?"

"Only the best ones"

Danny smiled before walking out and checking the hallway side to side. All clear. 

He waved Tim over and out of the classroom. 

"You know this whole hallway is under watch right? There's cameras here." 

"They don't work."

"What?" 

Danny laughed a little before signaling Tim to follow after him against the wall. 

"You didn't know? After school hours certain cameras shut down. In fact, a lot of them are broken and they never paid to get them repaired. That's why they accept bribes. They lie about having proof of crimes, works every time."

"What are you talking about?"

Danny groaned. Of course Tim didn't know about this, he was one of the rich kids they'd exploit. Danny as well as the other kids who were here off of scholarships or special deals knew about the tactic and had ways to avoid it, but rich kids like Tim didn't need to avoid it. The halfa cursed at the unfairness of life. 

"Of course you don't know. The teachers here scam the rich kids. They accuse them of crimes they didn't commit and because their parents never care for proof, only reputation, they bribe them right away without even asking for the evidence. It's happened so many times and it's why when actual problems happen it's swept up under the rug."

"Are you serious?"

"Uh yeah dude. Usually kids like me try their best to avoid it. Meaning don't fight back, don't stay after school, don't go to the bathroom for anything other than an emergency, and don't talk back to any teachers at all. Those are the basics when you're not as rich as everyone else."

"So that's why you're so adamant on being framed, but couldn't you just ask them for proof it was you?"

"Not that easy. I don't have a guardian, I'm a 'charity case' as they say it."

He practically spit out that last part. Utter disgust in his tone. 

"No parents, no money, no dice. If I don't find proof myself and publicize it or threaten em with it, I'm stuck for a year. I have things to do you know"

"Like blowing up chemistry labs?"

Tim teased. Danny gave him a look over his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. You're so funny Tim! I wonder if Andys laughing in the hospital."

"He deserved it."

"And I'm innocent."

The two just stared at each other before Danny laughed and turned back around, continuing his walk. Tim chalked up the whole conversation as something to investigate later at home. His new "friend" was turning out to be a lot more interesting than he let on. 

"So this is you searching for clues? Have you gotten anything since you started"

"Well as I was saying earlier all the cameras in the hallway leading to the lab don't work at certain times, and the ones that were IN the lab are completely unsalvageable. And at the time of the explosion the usual delinquent students - Anderson included - were out of class."

"So they're the prime suspect, no chance of it being anyone else?" 

"Not many motives. If someone was using it for an outside project they didn't have permission, and other than that it's just the love of destroying and messing around."

Danny had led them through the school, taking twists and turns Tim couldn't recognize, eventually they had stopped at a roadblock. The hallway ended where a giant white tarp lay hanging from the ceiling. Caution tape was draped from each side to the other. 

"Where are we?" 

"The scene of the crime." 

Danny smiled before walking towards the plastic covering and picking it up from the ground and waving Tim over. Tim sighed before looking around and following after him, shaking his head on the way over. 

"Don't act all disappointed in me, you're literally following me"

"I may have just met you today but I'm convinced that it I left you alone you'd somehow either die or blow something up"

Oh how Tim didn't know the truth to that statement. Danny gasped and placed his hand over his chest all dramatically, taking false offense. 

"I'll have you know death cannot take me! It has tried and failed. Plus, we've been over this, I'm innocent!"

Tim didn't even want to unpack the first part of that. Logically it could be an exaggeration, but something about it felt a little too real to his senses. 

"Whatever, you felon."

"Delinquent."

"Fair, now let's get going" 

The roles had reversed as Tim took the lead instead. Danny let him despite having been here multiple times over the last few weeks. Maybe Tim would see something he couldn't. 

“So what are you hoping to find?”

“Proof of my innocence, or proof of their crimes.”

“Isn’t finding their crimes easier? Considering a lot of people already know about it.”

“Well yeah, but that’d turn back on me.”

“How so?”

God, Danny wanted to punch him. 

“Because they’d flip it on me and say how did I get the information? They’d accuse me of stealing and breaking and entering. They’d say that a delinquent child like me who hasn’t got good influences in my life would resort to just about anything to get out of punishment-”

“That’s a bit specific, don't cha think?”

“Well I’ve had similar things happen to me before”

Creepy boy with creepy powers rang in his head, he ignored it. 

“Anyways, how am I even going to get that stuff? The principal's office has all of that information and the cameras there are fully functioning and top quality. Plus, how am I supposed to get into their computer? I don’t know the password and I can’t hack shit for the life of me. Programming I can do, but that? Whole new haunt.” 

“Haunt- you know what? I’m not going to question that.”

“Good. We’re running out of time anyways. Choosing all the hallways that don’t have cameras or ones that work took a while. We need to wrap this up in 20 and then go back the way we came.”

Tim nodded and walked a bit faster towards what used to be the chem lab. There was more plastic screening in the way, but it was easily bypassed by the two. 

“There’s no one here.”

“They only do construction on this place during school hours two times a week.”

“Why? That’ll take forever.”

“Exactly.”

Tim’s questions were getting to Danny at this point. While the halfa acted all knowing in the beginning, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s actually clueless beyond what he discovered on his own. He doesn’t know why they’re prolonging the construction, it’s probably another scheme of theirs- or if they’re lucky, an extensive cover up. Danny, in all honesty, just wants to be able to go home to his little trash heap of a living space in Crime Alley and sleep. 

Tim moved forward, being way too careful. Danny knew he was oddly silent, but he could still hear the other, so he didn't question it. Superhuman hearing for the win! 

“Why is the construction flowing this way? The back of the room is close to being done, but the front is still in complete disarray. They shouldn’t be doing parts of the room, but the whole room in steps.”

Yeah, Danny couldn’t answer that one. At this point, he was just assuming that Tim had to verbalize his questions when answering them himself. He didn’t reply, and with the way the other didn’t ask again or even look at him, Danny was right. He was content to just let his detention mate do his thing, lord knows Tim’s smarter than Danny anyways.

Tim stepped forward cautiously. The ground was still slightly unsteady considering only like 15% of the room had the floors replaced. Now that Danny thought about it, that was weird. He may be clueless about anything other than ghosts and space, but even he knew that foundations were placed first. This is a dangerous and even unsafe way to do construction. Why repair one part of the room first and then bleed out? Was something hidden in that area? Plus, there was still debris from the explosion- 

“What do you think they’re hiding?”

“We’re about to find out.”

Wow, Tim was really invested now. Danny would have just gone back by now and visited tomorrow, but Tim is full on interested. 

All that was left to do was follow the rich kid further in the room. 

“Careful some of the paint is wet.”

Danny didn’t even want to ask how the other knew that from this distance. Danny could tell, but again, super human senses, Tim? Fully human. It didn’t really matter that much though, so he just followed him further and stepped around certain tiles. 

Tim started inspecting just about everything. Nothing was safe. Every piece of wood, every corner, every point in which two colors met- the guy even pulled out a leveler. Where did he get that? You know what? Didn’t matter. Danny was giving his best in minding his business. If it got him set free? He’d ask zero questions- consider his curiosity swallowed. 

“Tim, we have to go. We’re almost out of time.”

“Is it just me or is this cement not level, and doesn’t the drywall seem incorrect to you?”

Tim finally turned back to Danny, breaking out of his investigator mode. The halfa sighed before stepping over to where his new friend was, taking a closer look at what Tim was pointing out. He was right. The cement was uneven against the wall. It was strange considering Chemistry labs required tile flooring. The tiles wouldn’t go well if it wasn’t steady. Plus, the walls were supposed to be in levels: cement, then insulation, then final layer (could be anything really). The drywall set up wasn’t screwed in correctly, and Danny was pretty sure he could see the insulation in some parts. Considering special tiles or substances had to be used over the drywall to make the chemistry lab safe and usable, it wasn’t a good base. 

Okay, Danny will admit, maybe he did do a little bit of research into chemistry labs. It was a rabbit hole he couldn’t escape when listening to Mr.Lanch drag on and on about the 5 page essay due in a month. He was bored, sue him. He was used to being attacked by ghosts everyday, this place was tame. Sure, it was exhausting, but it was still interesting. 

“This isn’t right. The concrete has cracks in it.”

“So?”

“The school is supposed to use epoxy for the flooring, but for that to work the cement underneath it has to be perfect. This is far from that.”

“But they’re doing tiles, not resin.”

Tim gave Danny a look, and it honestly made him feel poor. Epoxy flooring was expensive- like really expensive- Danny has never seen it before that’s for sure. 

“Danny, the school has enough funding to make 20 of these labs with the highest grade. Tuition alone is insane amounts, even for the rich. The facilities the place offers should be of the highest quality. Even if the floors have to get replaced every few years, it states on the website that it’s supposed to be epoxy.”

Tim took what seemed to be a thousand photos of the area, getting every little detail. 

“Hmm, sounds like they’re cutting corners to cut costs. Leave it to the corrupt.”

“Alright, I got what we needed, let's head back.”

“Thank the Ancients. We’re gonna need to hurry, you know. We took too much time.”

Danny was quick to retrace the steps he took entering, ensuring no more tracks were left. Tim followed suit, and soon enough they were back into the maze of Hallways. This time with Tim leading the way. How the other knew it already when he’d only been through it once was beyond Danny, but again, he wasn’t gonna question it. 

Questioning others gave them a way to ask you questions in return, and Danny wasn’t too keen on answering anything personal.

.

.

.

“Made it!” 

Danny laughed as he slumped in the first seat, dead tired from the way they ran after seeing the clock. They were 10 minutes away when the clock showed they had 5 minutes until a check in. To say they ran would be an understatement. The way the two of them jumped down those stairs would surely raise many questions if Danny was keen to ask, but hey, maybe Tim was one of those ‘do every hobby known to mankind’ rich kids. 

Well his new friend was fit, at the least. Tim hadn’t even broken a sweat, only slightly breathing a little heavier. Danny wished. As a ghost he didn’t have such things as stamina, there was no out of breath when you don’t breathe. As a human, however, he was stuck with meager capabilities he gathered up from running away from bullies and fighting off ghosts with watchful eyes. Seriously, he needed to do whatever Tim was doing (just cheaper). 

Funnily enough, the second Tim sat down a seat away from him, Mr.Lanch entered the room. 

“I see you two have moved. I hope you didn’t cause any disturbances.”

He said while looking directly at Danny. Danny was sure to keep a tight smile on his face, hiding his clenched fist under the desk next to his thigh. 

“No way, sir. I just needed some help on that essay we have. You know I’m a little-”

“Behind, yes, I’m aware. Don’t distract Mr.Drake, he has well enough to do on his own. Am I clear?”

“Yes, yes. Sorry, won’t happen again.”

“Now apologize to Mr.Wayne for bothering him.”

“He wasn’t a bother.”

Tim interrupted, and Danny swore Tim looked annoyed. How come?

“Excuse me?”

“Danny wasn’t bothering me, Mr.Lanch, I was happy to help.”

There was an attitude in his tone, a bit of sharpness that Danny could pick up. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why.

“Yes, well, an esteemed individual such as yourself mustn't get too involved with the likes of him.”

Was this guy for real? Not even bothering to hide the blatant discrimination. Danny refrained from rolling his eyes, his fist clenching ever so tighter, making indents in his skin. 

“What may that mean, Mr.Lanch.”

“Mr.Drake, I’m sure you are well aware that people like… him are not the best influence on those such as yourself.”

Danny could feel the rage bubbling under Tim’s skin- being a sort of empath had its perks. 

“People like him? I am unaware as to what exactly you mean by that.”

Yeah, this was going to continue escalating. Danny cleared his throat, making both of them look over at him.

“I’m sorry Tim for bothering you earlier. It won’t happen again, don’t worry.”

“That’s better like it, now, I will return when time is up. Good day.”

And with that, Mr.Lanch left the room, making Danny sigh in relief. He sunk into his seat and rubbed his fingers over the crescents in his palm. 

“Why did you do that?”

“What?”

Tim gave him an annoyed look.

“Apologize.”

“It’s not that important, Tim. It’s easier on me if I just do what he asks. As long as I don’t get punished too badly it’s fine.”

“Didn’t we just return from trying to prove your innocence?”

“That was different from this. A year of detention and being banned from any labs for the rest of highschool is way too drastic to just take it. I have a thing called a job, Tim, I can’t be here when I could be working. Not all of us have people making food for them anytime they want.”

This was ridiculous. Seriously, Danny may care about justice and all that jazz, but he made a promise to- well- Jazz that he’d finish highschool and do it right. He couldn’t start problems when he already barely got in from this alone. Tim would be fine anywhere he went, Danny wouldn’t, and that’s just the truth. He couldn’t punch his way out of this one, and he accepted that the first month in. It really was Casper high part two, but instead of the treatment being because he was the weird kid, it was because he was the poor orphan. Not much better, now, was it.

Tim finally shut his mouth. Danny allowed himself to roll his eyes before putting his head down on the desk. 10 minutes until freedom. 

Day one was finally over. 

_______________________

Imma be real honest I actually hated part 2 which is why I never posted it, but i've been convinced bcs someone asked for the link to it so i avoided tumblr for a week because i thought itd be mean to show activity and ignore them- so i went back edited it and now theres a part 3 and im worried this will become a short story

anyways enjoy!

Koa out <3

[maraschinomerry]

Meddling Git

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader

Summary: When George connects with Arif's new shop assistant, Lockwood makes it his mission to make more opportunities for them to meet

Content: fluff, meddling Lockwood, insecurity about agent work, slight mention of blood

A/N: I'm back!! After an unintentional 7 month hiatus, I've finally been inspired to write again! I've also decided to switch from using (name) to y/n if anyone has any opinions on that. Thank you to everyone who shared anniversary/meet content for reminding me how much I love this fandom, and all my love to the multiverse of George chat for giving me so much inspiration and encouragement 💛

Word count: 4k exactly!

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea @mischiefmanaged71 and also tagging @bobbys-not-that-small @bella-rose29 @oblivious-idiot @uku-lelevillain @lewkwoodnco

Lockwood, Lucy and George marched proudly towards Arif's. They'd completed another house call and been tipped generously by the owner, so Lockwood had promised to treat the team to breakfast. Of course, with the first rays of the morning only just beginning to peek through the clouds, there weren't any cafes open yet.

“I'll cook,” George offered, “as long as you buy the ingredients…”

“Of course.”

“...and those strawberry cream doughnuts.”

“Fine,” Lockwood rolled his eyes dramatically. Lucy grinned.

The bell above the door rang out lightly. Only agents would be around at this hour, and Lockwood & Co was the only agency who ever came to Arif's. In fact, their presence was so regular that the boy who worked the morning shift, Max, would greet them before they even came into view. Today, however, the shop remained silent.

“Morning, Max!” Lockwood called over a shelf when the quiet lasted a moment too long. “I don't suppose you have any of the strawb-” He hesitated as the group rounded the corner and finally came into view of the counter.

—

You frowned a little to yourself at the gentle chime of the bell. Surely there wouldn't be anybody about this early? Though you couldn't see the front door from behind the counter (a bit of a security flaw, you reckoned) there was a small window to your left which showed only the slightest hint of sunlight. Then again, Arif had mentioned a group of agents that would come by often. You weren't aware there was a local agency, but you were so new to both the area and the job that you didn't like to question it. The bell had been followed by overlapping footsteps and more than one hushed voice. Maybe this was them.

“Morning, Max!” one of the voices suddenly spoke up, a little deeper than you expected but unmistakably that of a boy and not a man. The footsteps drew closer. “I don't suppose you have any of the strawb-” At last the owner of the voice appeared from behind a shelf. The words stuttered to a stop, as did the movements of the tall boy in the black overcoat. Behind him, a girl in a blue jumper almost ran into him with the sudden pause.

“You're not Max,” she stated bluntly.

“No, I'm not.”

“Is he…?”

“Moved back to Cornwall with his parents,” you reassured her. You knew what it was like, wondering whether someone's absence meant the Problem had claimed another victim. “I'm y/n.”

“Well,” the boy cut back in with a charming smile, “morning, y/n. I'm Lockwood, this is Lucy, and George is around somewhere. As I was saying, do you happen to have any of those strawberry cream doughnuts?”

You returned his smile with one of your own as you fetched a square box from the chilled cabinet. “You're in luck, but I suppose you'll have to fight over who gets the fourth.”

“We won't,” another boy piped up from the far corner of the shop - George, you assumed. “If I'm making breakfast, I'm calling dibs.” Lucy giggled and you felt yourself suppressing one of your own.

“You'll have to forgive George, he's-” Lockwood began.

“No, no, he's got a point.”

“Finally, somebody gets it!” George's voice sounded triumphant, and much closer than before. After a beat, he arrived and you were able to put a face to the voice.

George was taller than Lucy but a little shorter than Lockwood, with dark curly hair and round glasses. Under his jacket was a vibrantly orange T-shirt, and in his arms he cradled a carton of eggs and a few different vegetables. He shuffled closer, attempting to place the produce on the counter without dropping the eggs but having trapped his hand in too awkward a position to keep a good hold of them.

“Let me,” you found yourself leaning over the counter, your fingers brushing the crook of his elbow as you rescued the carton and set it down gently. The boy blinked at you in surprise before quickly recovering and placing down the bulb of garlic he was holding. “What are you making?”

“Gojeh farangi, a sort of omelette.”

“Sounds good.” You handed him the ingredients, now bagged, and slid the box of doughnuts towards him as well. Lockwood stepped forwards with a handful of cash, and George shrunk back.

“It's been a pleasure meeting you, y/n,” Lockwood gave you another of those smiles. You got the sense he was the head of the team, the diplomat, the charisma. “No doubt we'll see you again.”

“Nice to meet you all too. I'll be here most mornings, in case you want to beat the regular crowd to the good doughnuts.” Without realising, you found yourself directing the latter part to the other boy, and you could have sworn you saw a flush tint his cheeks as he gave a slight smile and a nod of acknowledgement. What you didn't see was the glance exchanged by the other two.

—

The trio were back at Portland Row, the kitchen filled with the smell of fresh tomatoes and the glow of a job well done.

“Y/n seemed nice,” Lucy remarked as casually as possible.

“Mm,” Lockwood agreed into his cup of tea. “What did you think, George?”

They turned their attention quite unsubtly to their friend at the oven. He stayed with his back to them, and they couldn't be sure it was just because he was focused on breakfast, as he shrugged. “Suppose so. Didn't get much chance to judge.” He turned at last, not making eye contact as he slid two plates across the table.

“Ah well,” Lockwood continued after thanking George, who had turned away to collect his own plate, and he took the opportunity to throw Lucy a conspiratorial wink. “Plenty of time for that.”

Lucy almost choked on her mouthful.

The next day, George was halfway down the main stairs on the way to the training room when Lockwood poked his head out of his room. His hair was dishevelled, the collar of his shirt was wide open and his tie was hanging loosely around his neck.

“Ah, George! Do me a favour and run down to Arif's? We're out of detergent.”

“Why can't you go?”

“I've got that meeting with Mrs Pemberley to go over the details of the case and I'm running late as it is.”

“And Lucy-”

“Has gone to see Barnes.”

“Right.”

George held the door open for an elderly man just leaving the shop before slipping inside. He made his way to the detergent, stopping for a packet of chocolate digestives. Seeing you at the counter made him falter a little. You'd said you worked mornings, but it was almost lunchtime and he thought someone might have taken over by now.

“Oh, hello,” you greeted him cheerily. “Didn't hear you come in. George, right? Are your friends with you?”

“Just me,” George huffed. You picked up on the huff and wondered whether he was just having a bad day. From the small interaction you'd had yesterday, he seemed to get on well with his fellow agents and his annoyance was playfully exaggerated. Was it too soon to play along? You'd only met him yesterday. Then again, it was ordinary enough for shop workers to make conversation with the customers, and you wanted to at least try and make an effort at this new job.

“One of those days?” you prompted.

“Tell me about it.” The response was dry but not sarcastic, and you got the sense that he would have opened up more if he knew you better.

“Surely these will help,” you held up the biscuits as you passed them back to him, which earned you a slight smile. That was all you got, however, as he paid and walked away with only a muttered thanks. For some reason, you found yourself fishing for a way to make him stay and talk more. There weren't many people your age who came by while you were on shift (not many people at all, to be honest), as most of them worked the night shifts and barely went out and about until later in the afternoon. You just wanted someone, anyone, to talk to, and he was right there and getting further away by the second. Plus, you couldn't deny you were intrigued.

“Can I ask you something?” you blurted.

The boy turned, curiosity colouring his gaze. For a moment, you thought he'd still leave, but he came towards you and placed the detergent bottle back on the counter with a thud. You continued, “Which agency do you all work for? I noticed your rapiers yesterday, and Arif mentioned you being in the area, but I wasn't sure where."

George brightened. “We're Lockwood & Co, on Portland Row.”

—

A few more days passed, and the longer it went on the more George was unable to stop thinking about the new shop assistant. There was something about their question - most people didn't pay much notice to off-duty agents, much less care about which agency they were from. Sure, Arif had mentioned or warned them about Lockwood & Co, so perhaps it was just polite conversation, but they'd seemed genuinely invested in the answer. And with the shop opening in the early hours specifically for agents, it often took someone with Talent of their own to be brave enough to be out so early. Maybe…

His thoughts were interrupted by Lucy wandering into the study. She flopped into the armchair opposite, trying not to pay too much attention when George peered at her over the top of his book.

“Everything okay?” he asked. It wasn't often Lucy joined him for research.

“Lockwood's going to buy food so I thought I'd come and hang out with you. Don't mind me,” she shrugged. George took that rather literally, turning his attention back to the book on his lap. In the distance, they heard the front door open and close again, marking Lockwood's exit.

Lucy spoke again. “Oh, I almost forgot! He said we're out of cornflour but can he just use baking powder instead?”

George's eyes widened, and Lucy heard him mutter something particularly cutting as he dropped his book onto the arm of the chair and darted from the room. Moments later, the front door sounded again.

Lockwood turned in his stride and met George with a sharp grin, almost like he was expecting the other boy to come after him.

“I take it we do need cornflour, then?”

“You're such an idiot.” George fell into step beside him, and the two walked quietly for a while. George wondered whether it was worth going back to the house at all after this or whether to carry on to the Archives; it was early enough in the day that they might not be full yet. At least it would mean not being a part of whatever scheme his friend seemed to be cooking up.

—

You were greeted by Lockwood remarkably quickly after the bell alerted you to his presence, but he barely got a word in before you apologised, explaining that you hadn't meant to be rude when you first met, you just didn't know the agency to put his name to it.

“It was only when George explained-”

Almost as if you'd summoned him, the curly-haired boy stepped into view and gave you a small nod.

Lockwood's grinned, wider than before. “You didn't tell me you'd been chatting to y/n, mate.” He turned his attention back to you. “You must have quite the impact if you're getting more out of him than I am.”

A glowing warmth spread through your cheeks, and instinctively your eyes flew to George, whose expression reflected your own. The other boy glanced between you both with delight. “I suppose so,” you mumbled. “I was just curious because-”

“You have Talent.” It was George who had spoken, and he moved forward with his gaze levelled on yours. The words were spoken not as a question or a statement, more like a realisation. It struck you that behind the unassuming first impression the boy gave off was a quiet but brilliant intelligence for him to have figured you out so quickly. Very few people ever figured you out at all, especially not about your Talent.

“How did you know?”

George seemed to suddenly realise how close he'd come, practically leaning over the counter to study you; he pulled away and dragged his gaze to his shoes. “Educated guess.”

Lockwood, on the other hand, was having none of it, eyeing you up mischievously. “Don't be so modest,” he elbowed his friend in the ribs. You tried very hard not to fixate on the way the movement tightened his shirt across his chest and waist. “He's not our researcher for nothing, he's a genius.”

George sighed, but his head lifted with a burst of confidence. “I figured you must to feel safe working here before dawn, I just wasn't sure why you're not an agent. Oh, and the iron cross above the counter is new.”

There wasn't a single other person this week who'd noticed the cross you installed on your first day. This boy was really something.

“Wow,” you breathed subconsciously. George's cheeks reddened; this time he was definitely blushing. As for why you weren't an agent, what were you supposed to say? That you were less scared of the Visitors than you were of never finding your place within a team or worse, finding the right people but then losing them? How could you possibly explain that to him? So you didn't, and after a few more pleasantries Lockwood headed for the door. George threw you a backwards glance and a small wave, and the butterflies that had appeared in your stomach waved back.

Lockwood was positively beaming as they stepped out into the midday sun. Golden rays danced across his face, the air was mild, a soft breeze ruffled through his coat. It was all far too cheerful.

“What's got into you?” George frowned. “I haven't seen you this happy since we watched Kipps fall over his own rapier.”

“Am I not allowed to be happy?” Lockwood feigned outrage, clutching his chest. “And it's you that I'm happy for!”

George stopped. “What?”

“Come on, I've known you long enough to see there's something between you and y/n. Why don't you ask them out?”

“It's not like that! We've only spoken a couple of times, I don't know them well enough for anything like that.”

“If you say so…”

—

God, Lockwood was insufferable. He'd abandoned all subtlety, and it was driving George up the wall.

The smell of strong black coffee drifted up the stairs as George drifted down them. Lockwood had booked a big case for that night with absolutely no background information, so he'd spent the whole night on initial research. Hopefully caffeine would keep him awake long enough to get through the day.

Lucy was standing by the toaster, wielding a butter knife and humming to herself. George slumped into his usual chair with a groan.

“Coffee? Toast?” she offered.

“Please.”

“Sorry,” Lockwood appeared from the basement. “That's the last of the bread, you'll need to pick up more while you're out today.”

“You're joking,” George looked up. “There's still three slices in the bag there.” This was the third time this week he'd pulled something like this. The first was ‘accidentally’ stepping on an entire packet of biscuits. The second was announcing the milk was off, pouring it down the drain before anyone could check with enough force that it splashed back and went all over his trousers. And now this.

Lucy opened her mouth to respond, but Lockwood was faster. Before anyone could react, he pulled out the remaining slices, folded them all in half and took a massive bite. When he unfolded them, it left a gaping hole down the middle of all three slices, which he held up and peeked through triumphantly.

“You're ridiculous,” George scowled.

“ ‘m miwwian’” Lockwood mumbled around the wad of bread in his mouth.

George wanted to put his foot down. He didn't want to let Lockwood win. He knew he'd be so smug about it. But he also knew that every time he was sent to Arif's he stayed a little longer, talked a little more, watched you smile a little brighter. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he'd started looking forward to being sent out for things.

“Oh hey, Georgie!” Your face lit up when he entered the shop, and he smiled back. You weren't sure when you'd started calling him Georgie, he'd been here so often it was hard to tell which day was which any more. Not that you were complaining - he was easy to talk to, more interested in your Talent than anyone else had been, understanding when you'd finally explained your concerns about becoming an agent, and undeniably cute on top of all that. “What do you need today?”

“A boss who's not a meddling git,” he scowled dramatically, “...and milk.”

“I can only help with the second one,” you teased as you made your way out to the shop floor. Speaking to him from behind a counter felt so impersonal now, so you'd taken to wandering round the shop with him. You really hoped he didn't think you were overstepping or anything. As far as you knew, he thought of you as just the shop assistant, nothing more. You hoped it was more than that, could be more at least.

Another customer came and went, and George was still there, enraptured by your opinions on the Problem. He'd taken up a stance leaning against the shelves, one hand tucked into his pocket and looking the most relaxed you'd seen him since that first time he came into the shop. A light smile played across his face as he watched you hop onto the counter, not breaking your train of thought at all.

“I should get on before my shift finishes,” you sighed eventually. George immediately stepped forward and offered his hand to help you climb back down. His skin was warm and slightly calloused. You stumbled a little as you hit the ground and his other hand flew to your elbow, eyes scanning yours in concern.

“Thanks,” you murmured, painfully aware of how close you were. You'd put your hand out to steady yourself; it was clutching at the soft fabric of his orange plaid shirt. His eyes met yours once more and you both hastily pulled away.

“I'd better get back,” he cleared his throat.

“To the meddling git?”

He chuckled, a low sound which rumbled pleasantly in his chest. “Exactly. We're, um, we're out on another case tonight, but I'll see you soon, okay?”

“I hope so,” you replied, hoping he knew you didn't just mean because he made it back safely. “We'll have those doughnuts you like again tomorrow, if you're back in time.”

“I'll definitely be here for that,” he grinned.

—

It had been a hell of a night. The man who hired them had tried to bolster his ego by downplaying how intense the Visitors were. ‘A couple of Type 1s’ had turned out to be three particularly vicious Type 2s and it had taken until dawn to neutralise all the sources. The team emerged into the dewy morning covered in dust, rubble and, in George's case, blood. He'd taken a piece of debris to the face and, while it wasn't a serious injury, it had left him with a small cut which throbbed when he spoke. They were quite far from home too, and it was almost midday before they made it back to Portland Row.

George flopped onto a sofa in the living room as soon as they were through the door, while Lucy fetched the first aid kit. She sat down next to him, clicking open the case, and her face paled even more than it had with the exhaustion.

“We're out of antiseptic.”

“Lockwood,” George glared at his friend. He really wasn't in the mood.

“This isn't me this time! Look, you stay here and rest, I'll go and get more. Anything else we need?”

George pushed himself up to his feet. At least venting to you might make him feel better, and you had promised him doughnuts. “It's fine, I'll go.” Lockwood glanced at Lucy, taken aback by his insistence. He'd only been teasing George about going to see you, he never expected it to actually work.

“Please tell me you've still got those doughnuts, y/n,” George groaned as he pushed open the door to Arif's.

“Sorry,” came the reply from a voice distinctly unlike yours, as Arif glanced up from the shelf he was reorganising. “They took the last box at the end of their shift, maybe ten minutes ago.”

The last glimmer of hope that George had harboured fizzled out in his chest. Of course there was going to be no silver lining to the day. He was tired, he was hurt, and he didn't even get the doughnuts he'd been holding out for. Worse than that, though, he finally admitted to himself (and practically to his friends too) that he wanted to see you, that he liked you, and for what? Of course you weren't, you'd finished work and why on earth would you stick around just in case he showed up? It was unreasonable, he knew, but he couldn't help but feel disappointed. He'd have to wait until tomorrow, when he'd recovered a bit and could have a proper chat to you about everything. Ranting with Lockwood and Lucy was alright - they'd been there, they knew what he went through - but you were so gentle and understanding with him every time that he was desperate to hear your thoughts.

A figure on the steps of 35 Portland Row made George stop in his tracks. A new client, perhaps. Nothing unusual there.

The figure turned.

“Georgie?”

His face split into a grin the instant he recognised you. You'd changed out of your plain uniform into more casual clothes. The vibrant colours made you look almost radiant.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?”

You shuffled awkwardly on the step, suddenly aware of just how much of a risk you were about to take.

“When you didn't show up this morning… well, I was worried about you on the case. And I know I said I was scared of becoming an agent in case I made friends with my team and then lost them, but I realised I could just as easily lose you like this and I'd never get to really know…” George watched you in awe, silently gravitating closer with every breath. Your own breath was trembling, the sound of it echoing from your chest up to your ears. Finally, he was close enough that you noticed the stark red line on his cheek. “Oh my god, you're hurt.” Just imagining him in pain sent ice through your veins.

“I'm okay,” he assured you gently. “Just a scratch. I've just been to Arif's for antiseptic and…” he looked almost as nervous to speak as you, “I missed seeing you.”

You wanted to reach out to him, to take his hand or hug him close, but instead you held up the box you'd forgotten you were holding. “Me too. I brought those doughnuts just in case, figured you might need the extra one.”

His expression softened. “It's not an extra if you're here. I mean, if you want? You could come in and we can share them with the rest of the team.” Team. He gave you a look that showed he meant the implication behind it. You were one of them now, if you wanted to be. With a smile, you wound the fingers of your free hand into his and allowed him to lead you into the house.

[shadowrinrin]

Mine.xoxo - Jay Descendants

Summary: You and Jay (Descendants) are friends with benefits and are with each other most of the time but when Uma and her crew came to Auradon to help Mal for the week you and Harry Hook started getting close and Jay was jealous even Carlos and his pet talking dog Dude noticed it, so he had to remind you who you belong to

warnings: Oral [both receiving] fingering, clit play. Cum play. Making out. Swearing. Pet names. Dirty talk. Foreplay

Note: Yall this is my first time it might not make sense but yk oh well

╭──────────────────────────────.★..─╮ Like a Harley in the wind, got you bragging to your friends the way you ride ╰─..★.──────────────────────────────╯

In the vibrant heart of Auradon, where the castle sparkled like a jewel against the brilliant blue sky, the air crackled with excitement and tension. You, the daughter of Mother Gothel and Jay, the effortlessly charming son of Jafar, had a relationship that was anything but ordinary. Friends with benefits, you spent most of your time entwined in each other's lives, sharing laughter, secrets, and a few heated moments that ignited more than just friendship but was there need to stop the tension? Yes.

"Hey, Harry," I called out as I tossed a pillow at his retreating form. He was already halfway out the door, his messy brown hair sticking up in every direction from our impromptu pillow fight. His blue eyes glinted with mischief as he caught it mid-air, tossing it back at me with a grin.

We'd been friends for as long as I could remember, growing up in the shadow of our parents' legendary rivalry. Jay and I had always had a thing for each other, but our friendship with Harry had been a constant in the ever-changing tides of our lives. His cheeky banter and the way he could make me laugh when I was feeling down had become a source of comfort and strength. Our friendship was a safe haven, a place where I could be myself without the weight of expectations.

But when Uma and her crew arrived, something shifted. Harry's usual flirtatious glances turned into something more intense, his smiles reaching deeper into my soul. We found ourselves spending more time together, laughing louder, sharing secrets that seemed too precious to be whispered to anyone else. He'd lean in closer when we talked, and I'd catch myself inhaling the faint scent of the sea that clung to him, a reminder of his pirate heritage. Our eyes would meet and linger for just a beat too long, sending a thrill through me that was entirely new.

Jay noticed the change immediately. His easy going demeanour grew tense, his jokes less frequent. He'd watch us from across the room, his eyes narrowing when Harry's hand would brush against mine, or when we'd share a knowing smile. Carlos and Dude, ever the observant duo, picked up on it too. They'd exchange glances that were as clear as the neon signs in the Isle of the Lost. It was as if they were silently communicating their concern over the shifting dynamics of our friendship.

Carlos, noticed the shift. With Dude, his loyal dog, wagging his tail beside him, he approached Jay, who was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, eyes fixed on you and Harry lounging on a nearby bench.

“Hey, man, you good?” Carlos asked, worry creeping into his voice.

Jay's eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah, just watching.”

“Watching what? You mean watching her flirt with Hook?” Carlos shot back, exasperated. “You know she’s with you, right?”

“Is she?” Jay replied, a hint of bitterness lacing his words. “Because it sure doesn’t look that way.”

Dude barked, as if to punctuate the point, trying to bring some levity to the situation. Carlos sighed, rolling his eyes. “Jay, you need to remind her who she belongs to,” he said, more serious now. “It’s obvious she likes you. Just… show her one of these days.”

One evening, I stumbled upon Jay in the training room, sweat beads glistening on his forehead as he parried with a dummy. The clanging of metal on metal filled the air, echoing off the stone walls. His movements were sharp, agitated. Harry had just left after a particularly flirty conversation, and the tension in the room was palpable.

"Couldn't stay away from the lovebirds, could you?" Jay quipped without looking up from his training.

I rolled my eyes at his dramatic tone. "Don't be ridiculous, Jay," I said, leaning against the archway. "We're just friends having fun."

Jay stopped abruptly, panting slightly. He turned to face me, the practice sword still in hand. "Friends, huh?" His eyes searched mine, and I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. There was something in his gaze that made me want to confess every little thought I'd had about Harry. "Is that all it is?"

He took a step closer, and the scent of sweat and leather filled the air. It was a stark contrast to Harry's clean, salty scent. Jay's eyes darkened, and he set the sword down with a clatter. Before I could react, he was right in front of me, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. His touch was gentle but firm, a silent claim that sent a shiver down my spine.

"I know what you're doing," he said, his voice low and gruff. "But you can't have both of us, Y/N."

My heart pounded in my chest as Jay's words hung in the air. He'd clearly been thinking about the same thing I had been, the growing tension between the three of us. But I didn't know how to tell him that I didn't want to choose. That every time Harry looked at me with those piercing eyes, I felt a pull I couldn't ignore. And yet, Jay had always been there for me, through thick and thin.

"Jay," I began, my voice wavering slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

But before I could say anything else, Jay had grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of the archway and into the dimly lit corridor. His grip was firm, almost painful, and his eyes burned with a possessiveness that was both thrilling and terrifying. He was usually so laid back, so this side of him was uncharted territory.

"Let's go," he said through gritted teeth, leading me towards the dorms. I could feel the tension in his body, the urgency of his steps. I didn't fight him; I was too surprised, too overwhelmed by the suddenness of it all.

As we approached the door to our wing, Harry stepped out of the shadows, his eyes widening at the sight of Jay's grip on my wrist. "What's going on here?" he asked, his voice steady despite the obvious tension in the air.

Jay's eyes never left mine. "It's nothing you need to worry about, Harry," he said, his tone laced with a challenge.

But Harry didn't back down. He stepped closer, his chest puffing out slightly. "If it involves her, it's my business," he said, his voice firm.

Jay shot him a look that could've frozen lava. "Back off, Hook," he warned, his grip on my wrist tightening. "This is between me and Y/N."

Ignoring Harry's protests, Jay tugged me along the corridor, his strides long and purposeful. We reached his dorm room, and before I could blink, he'd pushed the door open and practically thrown me onto the bed. The plush comforter muffled my gasp as I landed, and I looked up at him in surprise. His eyes searched mine, a storm of emotions raging behind them. Jealousy, anger, and something else—desire.

"What are you doing?" I managed to ask, my voice a whisper.

Jay's eyes were like thunderclouds, full of unspoken words and emotions. He didn't answer but instead closed the door behind him with a firm click that seemed to echo through the room. His hand didn't leave my wrist, and he stepped closer, towering over me. The room felt suddenly much smaller, the air thick with a mix of his scent and the anticipation of what was about to happen.

"Jay, please," I murmured, trying to sit up, but he was having none of it. He leaned over me, his face a mask of determination.

"You need to remember who you belong to," he said, his voice a low growl. His hand slid from my wrist to my cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw with a firmness that sent a thrill through me.

Jay's eyes searched mine, looking for something—confirmation, perhaps, or maybe just reassurance. His other hand found its way to my waist, and he pulled me closer, so that our bodies were almost touching. His gaze dropped to my lips, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me. But instead, he leaned in and whispered, "You're mine, Y/N."

The words sent a thrill through me, and I felt myself melting into the bed beneath him. He kissed me then, hard and possessive, his tongue demanding entry to my mouth. His hand slid under my shirt, and he began to trace my ribs, his touch setting my skin on fire. His fingers found my breast, and he squeezed gently, eliciting a gasp from me. His thumb found my hardened nipple and began to tease it, sending bolts of pleasure straight to my core.

Jay pulled back just enough to tug my shirt over my head, his eyes never leaving mine. He dropped it to the floor and leaned back in, his mouth finding my neck, kissing and sucking gently. I moaned his name as his hand slid down my stomach and into my pants, his fingers expertly finding my wetness. He groaned into my ear, "You're so fucking wet for me, baby."

He played with my clit, rubbing it in tight circles, making me squirm beneath him. His other hand held the back of my neck, keeping me in place as he whispered filthy things that made me blush. I could feel my orgasm building, my breaths coming in short gasps. "You like that, don't you?" he murmured, his voice gruff with desire. "You like it when I make you feel good."

I nodded, unable to form words as his mouth moved to my chest, kissing and licking my breasts before taking one in his mouth. He sucked hard, and I moaned, arching my back. His teeth grazed my nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "Fuck, Jay," I gasped, my hands tangling in his hair. He smirked up at me, the look in his eyes dark and hungry.

He slid down my body, his mouth leaving a trail of fire across my stomach. He pulled my pants down roughly, exposing me to the cool air. He took in the sight of me, his eyes glinting with lust. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse. He spread my legs wider, his hand guiding himself to my entrance. "So fucking beautiful."

He didn't wait for a response, plunging into me without hesitation. The feeling was intense, and I bit my lip to keep from screaming out. Jay knew exactly what he was doing, filling me up completely and hitting all the right spots. His movements grew faster, his breathing heavier. I could feel his passion, his need to claim me, to make me his. He leaned down, capturing my mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his hips.

"You're so fucking tight," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I've missed this."

Jay's words sent a shiver down my spine as he continued to explore my body with his mouth. He kissed and licked my neck, his teeth grazing my collarbone, making me squirm beneath him. His hand moved down to my panties, sliding them aside to expose my wetness. He groaned against my skin as he felt how ready I was for him.

"You want this, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "You want me to make you cum."

I nodded, my eyes rolling back in my head as his thumb found my clit again, his other fingers sliding into me. He began to pump in and out in a steady rhythm, curling his fingers to hit my g-spot. I moaned, my body responding to his touch like it had been starved.

"Yeah, that's it," he murmured, his eyes locked on mine. "Cum for me, baby."

Jay's fingers worked their magic, his touch sending me soaring closer to the edge. His thumb flicked over my clit, and his index and middle fingers curled inside me, stroking that spot that made me see stars. I couldn't help but think about Harry, his gentle touch and sweet words. But Jay was right here, his body pressing into mine, his roughness a stark contrast to Harry's finesse.

"Forget about him," Jay growled, as if reading my mind. "I'm the one who knows exactly how to make you scream."

He slammed into me, his fingers working their magic in a way that made me see stars. Harry's touch was like a gentle sea breeze, but Jay's was a tempest, rough and all-consuming. The room spun around us as he claimed me, his words a declaration of ownership that sent a thrill through my body. His thumb circled my clit with the precision of a maestro, pushing me closer to the brink.

With a final, desperate arch of my back, I gave in to the pleasure. My nails dug into Jay's shoulders as my orgasm crashed over me, wave after wave of bliss. He didn't let up, his strokes becoming more urgent as he chased his own release. His eyes bore into mine, demanding that I acknowledge the power he held over me. And at that moment, I did. I was his, body and soul.

As the last tremors of pleasure subsided, Jay pulled away, his chest heaving with exertion. He looked down at me, his expression a mix of triumph and something else—fear, perhaps? Did he think I would reject him after this display of possessiveness? But instead of speaking, he leaned down and kissed me again, his tongue claiming my mouth as thoroughly as he had claimed my body.

His hand slid down my side, his fingers brushing against my still-sensitive skin. I felt a jolt of excitement as he reached down to unbuckle his pants, his eyes never leaving mine. He pulled out his cock, thick and hard, and I couldn't help but stare at it. It had been a while since I'd seen him like this, and the sight of him made me wet all over again.

With a smug grin, Jay lined himself up with my entrance and pushed in with one swift motion. I gasped, the sudden fullness making me see stars. He didn't give me a moment to adjust, instead starting to thrust in and out at a breakneck pace. His hips pounded into me, his movements fast and furious, like he was trying to brand me from the inside out. Each stroke sent a jolt of pleasure through my body, making me moan uncontrollably.

The room was filled with the sounds of our bodies colliding, the headboard slamming against the wall in time with his thrusts. I could feel myself stretching around him, accommodating his size and the ferocity of his passion. He was like a storm, unyielding and unstoppable. And just like a storm, he brought with him a sense of excitement and danger that was utterly intoxicating.

Jay's hips moved with a fierce rhythm, his cock plunging deep inside me with a speed that left me breathless. Each stroke sent shockwaves of pleasure through my core, making me clench around him. His eyes never left mine, a silent challenge in their depths. He was marking me, reminding me of who I belonged to, and with every thrust, I felt myself slipping further under his spell.

His hand found my clit again, his thumb pressing down as he fucked me. The combination of his thick cock filling me and his skilled thumb on my sensitive bud was too much. I felt my orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to drown me. My nails dug into his back, leaving marks that would surely be a testament to the passion we shared.

Jay's breathing grew ragged, his eyes locked on mine. "You're going to cum for me," he ordered, his voice thick with lust. "Cum for me, baby."

With a final, punishing thrust, he sent me hurtling over the edge again. My body convulsed around him, my muscles tightening as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. Jay groaned, his own release following quickly. He collapsed on top of me, his body heavy but welcome. For a moment, we lay there, panting and sweaty, our hearts racing in time with one another.

As our breaths began to even out, Jay rolled off me, pulling me into his arms. He kissed my forehead gently, his touch tender in the aftermath of our passion. He wrapped the comforter around us, his strong arms providing a warm, secure cocoon. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my back, soothing the tension that had built up there. He whispered sweet nothings into my ear, his voice a gentle rumble that sent shivers down my spine.

But our peaceful moment was shattered by the sound of knocking on the door. Jay tensed, his grip on me tightening for a second before he let out a sigh. He kissed me softly on the cheek. "Stay here," he murmured, sliding out of bed. He grabbed a robe from the back of the chair and slipped it on, tying it tightly around his waist.

I watched him move across the room, his muscles rippling with the aftershocks of passion. The knocking grew louder, more insistent. Jay's expression grew darker, and I knew it was Harry on the other side of the door. He'd come to find me, to check on me, and now he was about to walk into a scene that would make everything so much more complicated.

Jay pulled the comforter over me, tucking it around my body until only my head was visible. He bent down, whispering in my ear, "Pretend to be asleep, baby. I'll handle this."

My heart pounded in my chest as I nodded, feigning slumber. The knocking grew more insistent, and I heard the door creak open. Jay's footsteps approached the bed, and I could feel his gaze on me, appraising.

"What the hell, Jay?" Harry's voice was sharp, a clear edge of anger underlying his words.

Jay didn't bother to turn around, instead, he just tightened the sash of his robe and called out, "What do you want, Harry?"

"Is Y/N with you?" Harry's voice was tight with concern, a hint of anger seeping through.

Jay's eyes narrowed as he turned to face the door, his gaze lingering on Harry's shocked expression as he took in the rumpled bed and the discarded clothing scattered across the floor. "What makes you think she's here?" he asked, his tone deceptively casual.

"I...I just...I know she was looking for you," Harry stuttered, his eyes darting to me, trying to gauge if I was okay.

Jay chuckled darkly. "She's fine, Harry. More than fine." He glanced back at me, his eyes lingering on my exposed breasts before turning back to Harry. "In fact, she's sleeping like a baby. Didn't you hear how tired she was?"

The air grew thick with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy between them. Harry's eyes narrowed, and his hand clenched into a fist. "What did you do?" he demanded, taking a step into the room.

Jay's smile was cold, the lines of his face hardening as he stepped in front of the bed, blocking Harry's view of me. "What I had to," he said, his voice a low growl. "You think you can just waltz in here and take what's mine?"

The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the possessive claim he'd made on my body just moments before. Harry's eyes flicked to me, and I felt a flash of embarrassment as he took in the sight of my half-dressed form. I burrowed deeper into the covers, hoping he couldn't see the blush that was surely creeping up my neck.

Jay stepped closer to Harry, his robe gaping slightly, revealing the sweat-slicked muscles of his chest. "Back off, Hook," he warned, his voice a low growl. "You're not welcome here."

The room was a testament to the passion that had just unfolded, the air still thick with the scent of desire. Harry's eyes flicked to the rumpled bed, and his gaze grew cold as he took in the scene. He stepped closer, his hand reaching for the comforter that was barely covering my body. "Jay," he said, his voice a warning.

Jay's hand shot out, grabbing Harry's wrist. "Don't you dare," he spat, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire. "This is your final warning, Harry. Stay away from her."

Harry's eyes narrowed, his grip on the comforter tightening. "This isn't over," he said, his voice a low threat.

Jay's smile grew, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, it's over," he said, his voice laced with a confidence that sent a shiver down my spine. He didn't move from his protective stance, not even when Harry's hand hovered so close to me. "Now, get the fuck out."

Jay just smirked, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "I know," he said, his voice low and filled with a challenge. "But for now, she's mine."

With that, he turned back to me, sliding into the bed and wrapping his arms around me. His warmth was comforting, his embrace tight and secure. I could feel his heart beating against my back, the steady rhythm a stark contrast to the chaos of emotions whirling inside me. He pulled me closer, his breath hot against my neck as he whispered, "I'm not letting you go, baby."

Jay's grip was firm, but his touch was gentle, his fingers tracing patterns on my bare skin that sent shivers down my spine. His lips brushed against my ear as he whispered sweet nothings, his voice a soothing balm to the rawness left by our encounter. The room was silent except for the occasional clank of metal from the corridor, a distant reminder of the world outside our little bubble.

[strawberrysnoopy]

PROLOGUE/TEASER

summary: for months, leon has been writhing in his bed dreaming of his friend's wife (you). he's been fighting the desperation for months until that one night you bring up a lingerie shoot you've done for a prestigious brand.

part one

**BASED ON THE CHARACTER.AI BOT BY WESKER420. Please follow them, jesus christ, their bots are like crystal meth: they are so good.**

warnings: this is an OOC. I am a firm believer that Leon is an honest and very respectful man and would never do anything to hurt another person to the best of his ability. leon x model!fem! reader, series, SMUT!! SMUT!! SMUT!! they will fuck and that is a promise! infidelity (obvs, babes, look at the title), fem! reader, reader has a vagina, descriptions of masturbation, brief mention of a fleshlight, lube, tissues. leon's kind of a perv if you squint, vaginal sex, anal sex, smoking, language, drinking, weed smoking (mention and act), some texts, lingerie mention, photoshoots, jealousy and possessiveness (the hot kind), ada slander at times, leon is married to ada, no use of y/n or (name) because it gives me the ickity ick, angst at times becos i'm a sad gorl, sorry if grammar sucks but im a slut, also i promise there's dialogue i just ❤️ context and description, slowburn, mutual pining, eventual smut, pov switching from time to time (but not like you pronouns changing to she/her, just like the majority of a chapter would be told in Leon or your point of view,)

For months, Leon had been writhing in his silk sheets at night. He was no stranger to these encounters, considering his career as an agent. Nightmares were a usual guest in his home of dreams, but this time was different. They weren't the usual nightmares of losing his team, no. They were...wet dreams. About you.

Dreams of fucking you so hard he'd break the bed. Dreams of your goddamn perfect tits bouncing in unison with his violent thrusts. Dreams of your whines, constantly praising him on how good he fucked you, how good he felt with the tip of his cock kissing your cervix like they had just had their first kiss on their front porch after a first date. He was fiendish in those fantasies. He'd gotten desperate to the point of going online and buying a fleshlight with his own adult money. He had felt so shameful. Leon went out and fought a bioweapon (saving the world) with a fat paycheck handed to him. A paycheck he would spend on a sex toy because he couldn't stop dreaming of fucking you.

But that's all they were to him. Dreams. Wet dreams, at that, but just dreams. He did feel guilty, there was no denying that: he felt like a teenager going through puberty all over again, having to jerk his cock multiple times past the point of overstimulation to have the fleeting moment of you pass his mind and regulate back onto the normal, time-to-time sexual thoughts of his wife. He knew he probably wasn't alone in this. Besides, he wouldn't ever act on it. True, Leon was in an unstable and semi-toxic relationship with his wife, Ada, but the mere thought of cheating on her made him feel violently ill. He was loyal. He was kind. He was honest. He was the type of man you brought home to your parents and they'd clamor over him like a newborn baby Jesus. At least that's what he'd try to convince himself of. But tonight, Leon Kennedy would be a different man. He'd diligently play the part of a loving and caring husband, one who could never dream of cheating on his wife with another woman. Tonight would be the night that he would have dinner with his friends he hadn't seen in a while, chat, have a good laugh and a good meal until he eventually went home and spent the rest of the night with Ada. Leon knew this wouldn't be the most perfect night ever, of course not: he's never been a lucky man in his life, and that certainly won't be changing tonight. Why? Because you're there. You're there to haunt him like some horny odd ghost: almost as if you're taunting and teasing him with your mere presence. Like you're telling him: "I know you want to fuck me."

He's torn from his thoughts with the sultry palm of Ada's hand surfacing upon his shoulder. Yet, her hand feels cold. He remembers the warmth he felt at the beginning of their marriage, she felt sweaty at some points, but she felt as cold as freezing air in a Colorado Winter. He realized he had been standing in front of their bathroom mirror for ten minutes, doing the same motion of moving his tie back and forth like he was masking the way he thought about changing it.

"Ready?" Leon nodded in response, finally stopping the long game of toying with the elongated piece of fabric. He pats his wife's hip, to which he's met with a curt smile, concealing a plethora of disgust. He wants to be sad. Say something snarky. Be angry even. But all he feels is disappointed in himself. Leon knew that Ada had betrayed him ages ago during the Raccoon City incident but had put it upon himself to trust her again. That's what love is right? He would tell himself every time he felt a doubt begin to creep inside his hollow mind. Trusting someone even when they hurt you in the past.

Eventually they arrive at the dinner party, being greeted with hugs and the usual: "Leon, Ada, it's been so long. So nice to see you!"'s and so and so forth. On one hand, he's grateful. How lucky is he to have the opportunity to come together with his friends and have a nice evening that quells the dark thoughts of breaking his wife's trust or the fact their marriage was breaking at the seams and there was nothing he could do to fix it anymore. Then there's his other hand. The hand that's caked in filth and gut-wrenching horniness that tells him to cheat on his wife with you. The devil on his shoulder, if you will. The small malevolent voice was awoken as soon as his eyes settle upon your body. The one he dreamt about for the past few months.

You're wearing cute little pearlescent earrings upon your lobes, a necklace to match and finished off with a very lovely black slip dress that hugs your body just right. The fabric lovingly stretches across your tits like the dress was ripped straight from every man's dream. There was a slit upon the side: revealing enough until... There was a stirring in his jeans. His cock suddenly leaps to life as if it were unconscious and been resuscitated back to life via CPR. The phallic shaft ached against the gusset and fly of his cotton Calvin Klein brand boxers: tip sweeping against his waistband in a way that felt so familiar now, so normal. And for one of the first times in Leon Scott Kennedy's life, he truly realizes how fucked he is.

credits: snoopy divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more heart divider by @saradika-graphics

[thewertsearch]

EB: […] i'm not sure if i actually want to encourage you to go off fighting him… EB: because as strong as you probably are, it sounds like he is REALLY strong. EB: and even though you killed tons of people, i think i would still be pretty sad if you died. […] EB: so maybe you should just let us handle it? at least we won't fight him directly.

Well, if you actually manage to destroy the Sun, Jack will be significantly weaker, albeit still threatening.

If we can't convince Vriska to back off, maybe we can convince her to at least delay her attack. Once Jack's no longer a First Guardian, she'll be able to swoop in for a duel she could actually win.

Against Semi-Perfect Jack, I'd give her even odds - but what are the odds if she leaves now? Does she stand any chance against a Jack at the height of his power?

Well, maybe. I know I just joked about her getting annihilated, but Aradia did prove that God Tier powers work on him. Vriska's luck stealing is capable of some pretty astounding feats, but is it really enough to compensate for their enormous power differential? Luck can only take you so far, after all.

I'd give Perfect Jack a huge advantage in this fight, but a Vriska victory isn't completely out of the question, and I can see a few ways she could clinch it.

For example - what are the odds of Jack's Ring falling off?

Is it a million-to-one chance?

Is it a sixteen-million-to-one chance?

AG: You know how I said I couldn't rel8 to the attachment you have for your guardians? […] AG: Well, I guess that isn't completely true. AG: There are adult trolls who we can rel8 to, if we choose to, and if we are lucky enough to discover who they are. AG: 8ut it is not really in a familial sense, at least not socially speaking, the way you understand family. They are more like figures of legend, who are said to have more in common with us genetically than any other troll. 8ut we can never meet them of course. Only look up to them, and follow in their footsteps, 8ecause they died centuries ago.

Wait, so Mother Grubs are sitting on the same DNA for centuries?

I suppose that's why they're ancestors, rather than parents. It's a little strange that Mother Grubs hang onto the same genetic templates for so long, but this is alien biology we're talking about. Anything is possible.

Can the same genetic templates be reused multiple times, then? Can one single ancestor have multiple descendants, allowing trolls to have siblings as well as parents?

...hey, they might even have grandparents! If every troll has an ancestor, then your ancestors will have ancestors themselves, and they'd be your second-order ancestor, too.

AG: I am completely certain it is true, and I know who mine is! AG: I have 8een doing my 8est to honor her legacy for most of my life. AG: I even named my roleplaying character after her!

So this is why she’s so gung-ho about Marquise Spinneret Mindfang. Lay it on us, Vriska!

don't think about baby vriska being forced to kill don't think about baby vriska being forced to kill don't think about baby vriska being for

AG: It was 8efore I ever started gaming, or rounding up other kids to feed my lusus. AG: I was nearing the age where I would 8e expected to feed her.

::::(

[onmyyan]

Sharing is caring

A/N: Mariah Carey voice* ITS TIIIIME Smut will be in part three and I hope y’all enjoy!!! 17.1 pages, 6,340 words NOT EDITED

PART TWO

TW'S: YANDERE, MURDER, YANDERE HAREM, MANIPULAION, DRUGGING, SHARED DARLING, BLOOD,SUGGESTIVE BIT TOWARDS THE END, JEALOUSLY, READER HAD A BAD CHILDHOOD, CHILD NEGLECT, KIDNAPPING IS PLANNED IN DETAIL

If someone told you a week ago that your childhood best friends were planning some huge conspiracy to kidnap you, You'd of laughed in their faces.

After all, your boys couldn't be capable of something like that.

Right?

Sure they were a little more intense than the average person, but that's just how they've always been!

Growing up as the next-door neighbor to the Delmont Family used to be something you'd take great joy in, you would thank the stars you'd gotten lucky enough to be in their presence, how insanely loving they were to you from the second you entered their lives.

The family had taken you in more times than you could remember, whenever your parents fell through- be it picking you up from school hours late or forgetting to leave food money when they left you home alone, you were forced to care for yourself way too young and it didn't go unnoticed by the Delmont's.

Caspian recalls the day he'd first seen you vividly. He was twelve years old at the time and had just gotten into a rather nasty fight with his old man, he'd sulked his way outside to his small garden bed of herbs and veggies, the tiny oasis was a birthday gift from his mother last year, anytime life got too hard for the young boy he found himself kneeling in the dirt, and it's here he spots you.

Your small form sat idly in front of the T.V., a large blanket draped over your shoulders, he was confused, it was early in the day, why were you all alone? He checked your front yard to confirm his suspensions and it only made him sadder to see your parent's car's missing from the driveway.

He watched as you numbly munched on some dry cereal, but what really caught his eye were the tears running down your chubby cheeks, his chest began to ache at the sight, you couldn't have been much older than his youngest brothers, and be it his older brother instincts or the way you looked so sad, he was soon in the kitchen, furiously gathering all he needed to bake his mama's special cookies, the treats always managed to cheer him up, so he hoped they'd do the same for you.

When his mother came down to see her oldest baking as he'd never done before, she asked what the rush was. "I think our neighbor is sad mama- she looks all alone I just thought your cookies would make her feel better." His eyebrows were furrowed in the cutest form of frustration, she mentally cooed over him, how sweet he was, before beginning to wash her hands.

"Well, we better hurry up and give em' to her then." With the two working in tandem, he was bouncing on the balls of his feet outside your door in no time, the plate of warm treats made his hands hot, but he needed to be the one to give these to you. He wanted you to know you had someone in your corner.

His mother knocked on the door, her face twisting as she realized you were truly by yourself. The small pitter-patter of bare feet came closer before the door was swung open.

"Mama's not home." Was the first thing you said as if practiced. Both Delmonts felt their heart clench at the sight of you, you had bags under your eyes, your hair was messy as if you'd done it yourself, and the crumbs from something stuck haphazardly to the sweater you had on.

"Hi Honey, my name is Carla Delmont, I live right there with my family, this is my son Caspian- say hi mijo."

The awestruck boy shook himself from his stupor and thrust the plate forward. "Hi, there! Um. I-we made these for you." You stared at him with that blank look in your eye, at his words warmth seemed to pool into your gaze, the soft gapped tooth smile you gave him had his heart hammering in his chest, gently your small hands reached out to grab it, fingers touching his for a split second, but that's all it took for a bolt to shoot up his arm.

"Thank you! I'm (Y/N), we were supposed to come over and say hi when we moved in but I think mommy forgot."

She didn't want to assume something so harsh so early, but based on the way you looked and spoke, she couldn't help the sinking feeling that said your parents weren't the greatest at caring for you.

"Well how about this, when she gets home tonight you two come over for dinner hm?" Caspian had this hopeful look on his face as if urging you to say agree.

"Sure! I um, I dunno when she's coming home but that sounds fun." Your eyes lost a bit of twinkle at the thought, the older woman leaned down to put her hand on your shoulder, "Well if you get hungry before then come over. I'll even call your mom so she doesn't get worried okay?"

And that's exactly what you did anytime your parents went MIA, they knew they could find you next door.

A few hours later the matriarch heard the smallest knock at the door. She opened it with a warmth you weren't used to, ushering you inside before you could change your mind, she could see how nervous you were.

"Gabriel! Tell your brother to set another plate, we have a guest." The tall red-haired boy seemed to perk up at the request of his mother, nodding so fast you're sure he got whiplash, he took off, not before shooting you a big toothy grin, and soon returned red-faced and out of breath.

"Hi! I'm Gabriel but you can call me Gabe- do you like dogs? We have a dog, her name is Sophie, she's a pitbull and we had to put her outside cuz she bit Father. I thought it was pretty funny but he didn't." He rambled bouncing from either foot.

"Hi, Gabe- I'm (Y/n)." Despite baby, you's poor social skills Gabe didn't skip a beat as he stuck out his hand, grabbing your own in a gentle grip "Can we go play Mama?" The older woman sighed gently brushing fly-away curls from her second oldest's face.

"Yes mijo, just don't let (Y/n) get hurt okay? You boys can be so rough I don't want a single scratch on her understand?" He suddenly looked as serious as he could, nodding sternly to his mother, "Pinkie swear." She had no idea just how long he'd keep that promise.

And just what lengths he'd go to to do so.

He led the way through their comforting home with a gentle grip, careful not to hurt your smaller hand. The second the twins caught sight of you they abandoned whatever they were doing, tripping over themselves to say hello.

The twins looked nearly identical, the only way you could tell the two apart is if you really looked at Manny, the smaller boy had the prettiest eyes you'd ever seen, when you told him this he had to pull his shirt over his face to hide the red hot blush on his cheeks.

Marcos was so excited to meet a new friend, and his age no less! He spent the whole time outside asking you questions and trying to show off, the quiet boy sitting on the porch swing gave you a simple smile, introducing himself as Ricky, "I like your hair! It's so long and pretty!" You gushed over the long locks, he turned cherry red and decided then and there he'd never cut it short.

Time flew by in the sweetest moments, and before you knew it you were about to start High school.

About a week before the mandatory orientation you and the twins were set to attend, the parental unit sat you down in their living room, it felt odd being summoned without any of the boys, it didn't occur to you until that moment that you've never been in their home without one or more of them lingering around you, so to say you felt out of place was an understatement.

The way their Father was staring you down only added to your stress, but then again you learned long ago he just looked like he wanted to murder everyone in the room, he was quite sweet to you, often treating you like the daughter he never had,

"Am I in trouble?" You asked with a nervous laugh, hands wringing themselves ragged under the table.

"Of course not Hun! We were just talking about how you spend so much time here and how you're always bouncing back and forth." Carla sat down at the table to lay her hand palm side up, her silent request was met by you giving her your own, she began rubbing calming circles into the skin, trying to pacify your unease.

The effect of your absence on the boys, no matter how short of a duration, was becoming more and more volatile. Manny had begun acting out the longer you spent out of his reach, he'd be in such a foul mood he'd start snapping at his twin, a feat that unnerved everyone in the house because if Manny was mad enough to actually raise his voice at Marcos, something was very wrong in the universe.

Anytime you were not under the watchful gaze of one of her sons they seemed to deflate, curl into themselves. The clouds hanging over each of their heads, made the whole house feel like a ticking time bomb, she wasn't a dumb woman, she knew exactly who her husband was and exactly how alike her children were.

They were all so loving and kind, most of society couldn't understand the deep, raw, brutally honest way they felt their feelings, but she could, she knew what her sons needed to keep their heads on straight.

It seemed like the most rational course of action to the older woman, the way their heavy mood would instantly dissipate whenever your presence was near, plus she adored you like one of her own.

"We want you to move in you're practically my daughter already and it just is so lovely having you home, where we know you're safe." You felt your eyes widen at the statement, a million things ran through your mind but the strongest feeling was this warmth, your eyes begin to water, opening and closing your mouth in shock at the generous offer, "Oh god- that's the nicest thing anyone's ever offered me but- I don't know how long it'll take me to get a job-" the older woman's usually soft features soured at the words, "What job? You're just a child, don't worry your pretty head about any of that. Besides you stay here so often that nothing would really change." She looked to her husband to continue.

Their father wasn't much of a talker but whenever he did speak to you it was always awkwardly pleasant. "Before you start with that crap- it's nothing and you're already family so quit the yappin' and move your shit in your room already."

Your parents put up a bit of a fight but ultimately relented, knowing you were never as happy as you were when with the Delmonts.

That decision was what truly sealed your fate.

As you grew up alongside them, their toxic behavior seemed like the norm.

As if it was normal for the brothers to be the only friends you had, Marcos isn't proud of it but he'd use his popularity to slander your name, start a rumor here and there- nothing too bad! Just enough lies to keep the general population uninterested in you, if anyone ever dared to hurt you in any way because of these actions they'd be stopped before they got the chance.

In Marco's mind, it was a flawless plan because neither he nor his twin would let anything close enough to even touch you, they never left your side, going so far as to threaten the principal into giving you all the same classes, he was happy to keep lying if it meant you only looked to them for comfort.

It seemed perfectly fine for Ricky to stop you one day and ask you to install a tracking app on your phone, "You never know what kinda' psychos you're dealing with, at least with this I'll always know where you are- just in case." He spoke so confidently and so surely, you never questioned him, Ricky was the smartest person you knew, and he was always watching your back in ways you didn't even know you needed.

Gabe had this habit where he'd hover, like a guard dog, no matter how old you got he never grew out of his habit of looming over your shoulder, ready and waiting for a threat so he could sink his teeth into it, but their grip wasn't always as tight as it was today.

Before the unanimous decision to keep you to themselves, you'd managed to get a crush on some lowlife boy in your class, he'd gotten wind of your feelings and he thought it be funny to ask you out as some kind of cruel joke when you'd inevitably found out, you'd rushed home after school, not having it in you to wait for the twins like always, you felt too embarrassed to face them. Thankfully Gabe had football practice and Caspian had his cooking club, and you knew Ricky went straight to the shop after school so you managed to sneak into the house, undetected.

That is where mama Delmont found you a good two hours later, the boys still weren't home, and she thanked god because when she caught sight of your still sobbing form, buried face first in your pillow, the silent cries soaking into the fabric.

You were all but inconsolable, weeping into her arms as she tried in vain to soothe you. Had you looked up you would have seen the fear on her face. Because she knew something awful would come of this.

It didn't take long for the tale-tell the sound of their front door slamming shut. She heard a distinct set of footsteps running towards the (h/c) haired girl's room. She quickly stood to her feet and intercepted the two troublemakers before they could enter.

"Is she here? She left before us." Manny looked frantic, wide eyes darting from the door behind his mother to his twin. "That isn't like her, sum' wrong I just know it." Marcos placed a comforting hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "What happened Ma?"

She managed to get a few words out of you that summed up the situation. "Some stupid boy hurt her feelings. I think she's feeling a little embarrassed so maybe-" before she could finish Manny's hand gently moved her aside before slinking into your room, Marcos followed after only seconds behind him.

They spent a good hour coaxing the full story from you, sandwiching your sniffling body between them in a bear hug from both sides.

After the older brothers all got home, Marcos took the initiative to fill them in, mostly because Manny refused to leave your side, and Gabe had to leave the room because he needed to hit something, bad.

He was quiet as a ghost that night at dinner, in fact, most of the boys were, as your disheartened face was all too fresh in their minds. Caspian gave Gabe a look before he went to bed, a silent conversation taking place between the two.

In the dead of night Gabe snuck out his window and took off like a bloodhound, it took little to no effort to get the kid's full name from the school's website, and he soon after found his address.

He waited in the shadows, hood pulled up, the facemask he wore concealed the snarl on his face, the baseball cap shrouding his poisonous glare.

Gabe's ruby eyes were like slits as he waited, silent and still as a statue. His all-black outfit blended him seamlessly into the darkness, he forced his trembling hands to remain by his side, feeling himself vibrate in his skin, the rage bubbling under the surface threatening to pour over and consume him, but he made himself be still.

His efforts in self-control were rewarded as the teen who'd made the fatal mistake of breaking your heart walked out his backdoor with a trash bag in hand. He dragged his feet towards the can without a care in the world. Unknowingly delivering himself to his end.

Before he could lift the lid his neck was grabbed in a vice-like grip, Gabe yanked him into the bushes, dragging the scrawny guy by his throat he finally stopped once he found something hard enough to slam him into.

The surprised yelp that left his mouth brought a small sliver of joy to Gabe.

But not nearly as much joy as it brought to knock his skull against the concrete, his hand was so big he only needed one to do it.

He'd only gone out that night with the intention of roughing him up, making him pay for your tears with his blood, but the longer he wailed on the sputtering male, the angrier he got.

"Fucking piece of shit!- you got some kinda' nerve!" He stopped his assault to bring the bloodied face closer to his own. "You fuck with her feelings like that and expect to just walk away?"

To be blessed with your love, to reject it so coldly? The venomous mix of jealousy and anger had him repeating the violent motion until the other male's face turned to unrecognizable mush.

When he made it home, after dumping the body in its own garbage can, of course, Ricky and Caspian were up waiting for him in his room.

"You do it?" The youngest of the three asked chewing his thumb, eyes flickering to and from the door as if he expected his parents to burst in, while Caspian handed Gabe a warm towel, knowing he'd come home covered in gore.

The proud smile on his face was all the reassurance Gabe needed.

"I had to." Gabe began wiping at his soaking hands, the pride in defending your honor had the adrenaline pumping. Ricky gave his older brother a small smile, nodding to himself, "Course you did big guy- c'mon get clean then meet us in the garage."

After tossing his blood-soaked garments in a bag to deal with later, he joined his brothers downstairs. They kept the lights off in order not to arouse suspicion.

"Ricky has an idea," Caspian said as soon as Gabe entered, he was leaning against his father's car, a hand toying with his bottom lip, a look of contemplation.

Ricky made a point to look across each of his siblings before starting.

"We can't let what happened today happen again." The long-haired man spoke leaning on the red workbench with his knuckles.

"She sees the best in everyone which means it falls to us to keep the scum of the world at bay."

"Look what happened when we didn't have our eye on her for one second, she still up there crying, and if we don't do somethin' now we're just as bad as the piece of shit who made her like that." He watched the way each of their faces scrunched in displeasure.

"It's gone on unspoken for years but since we all clearly care about her we need to come to an agreement, here and now."

Their silence told him to continue, "We all want her, and we can either kill each other about it or we can come to a compromise."

"What kind of compromise?" Marcos asked from his seat on the washing machine. His smirk told Ricky he knew exactly what he was talking about.

"We share. Simple."

"Agreed- I know nobody but us would love her the way she deserves, seems rational t'me." Caspian spoke up quickly, making his way to Ricky's side, clapping a supporting hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"What if I-someone gets jealous?" Manny asked toying with the fabric of his sleeves, his eyes darting from sibling to sibling. "Then we talk about it- the only way this works is if the communication is on point. You feel like someone's hoggin' her, tell us okay?" Ricky spoke softly, despite the pain in his ass Manny was on a daily, he had a soft spot for the guy.

"We gotta' make it official! Ooh, what about a blood pact!" Marcos jumped off the machine, wildly gesturing with his hands.

"You dumb fuck we already share the same blood." Ricky rolled his eyes so hard he swore he saw his brain, Gabe snickered at the jab, throwing his obnoxiously large arm over the smaller man's shoulder. "C'mon Rick, baby boy just wants to make it official- let the little weirdo do his blood thing."

From that night on, after a quick cut to each of their palms, they were sworn to you.

Ricky had made it abundantly clear they couldn't move too fast or you'd freak out, so they wait it out, slowly prepping you for the day when they can finally stop hiding their devotion.

But they're not all that good at hiding it, it slipped out in lots of little ways.

Caspian always had you eating, he made a point to make little snack bags for you before school each morning, even if he didn't go to school that day he'd made sure one of his siblings got you your treat, and he left little encouraging notes in each one. The side you didn't get to see was how he intercepted every love note and gift that wasn't from him or his brothers, ripping and tearing at the items like an animal. Only to replace them with his own. Anonymous of course.

The Twins did a pretty good job keeping everyone else away since they were around you the most, one would distract you while the other beat the shit out of anyone who even thought to cause you problems.

By the time of your 22nd birthday, you'd long since moved into your own place, a place they helped you pick out of course, not too far from each of them, Caspian made sure to install some cameras the day he helped you move in.

They'd each fallen so deep into their obsession, there was no hope for you.

But you were none the wiser.

After all, why would you expect any of them to harbor romantic feelings when you've known them nearly all your life? When they treated you like their own family?

Marcos was a lover by nature, he had a different hottie on his arm faster than you could count, it seemed like before you could ask their name he'd replace them. And this was completely on purpose.

He was so terribly afraid you'd see through him, catch on to the truly dark, ever-growing feelings, and turn tail, he made a point to discuss his late-night adventures with you always hanging off your reaction, hoping one day he'd see a flicker of jealousy in your eye, just so he had an excuse to tell you what he so desperately hid.

You have no idea he's imagining your face every time he's intimate with someone, how his dates always had some sort of echo of your being, be it (e/c) eyes or the same haircut, he sought you out in everyone.

Cas and Gabe always tried to take care of you, be it making sure you ate that day or walking on the street side of the sidewalk just in case, they'd been doing these little things for as long as you can remember, the almost possessive way they cared for you had gone on so long you no longer batted an eye when they got in one of their moods, you just assumed that brotherly instinct to provide carried over to adulthood.

You were completely unaware of the darkness in their hearts.

Ricky confided in you much like the way a husband would, he made a point to fall asleep with you whenever he got the chance, he liked to imagine you were his, enjoying the domestic way you snuggled into him, or how you always went to him to unwind from your day, it fueled his deepening obsession.

He often has you over, tucked away in his room, just having you close by relaxes him completely. Funny considering all you do is just exist in the same space and suddenly his migraine is gone and he smiles for the first time that day, you just think you're being a good friend, but to Ricky, you're giving him a space to safely bare his soul and he doesn't take this kindness lightly.

Manny is your self-proclaimed best friend, he spoke to you the most and was at your place so often he had a drawer just for his clothes. He believes the two of you are not only soulmates but twin flames.

The way you sync up is too perfect to not be a love destined for the stars!

It was one of those days where he was lounging around your place like a house cat, sprawled out on your bed, head fuzzy from being surrounded by your heavenly scent. The grin on his face only grew at the sight of your towel-clad form, you were so comfortable around him this was normal, but he never got used to being so fucking close to you like this, he could see the sporadic beads of water falling down the crevice of your chest. His throat tightened as he watched the droplet fall. His tongue flicking out over his canines, his ring-clad fingers gripped the cotton of your sheets in an attempt to calm down.

The sight had him turning to lay on his stomach, in an attempt to hide his growing hard-on, he pretended to be scrolling on his phone, eyes frantically flicking from your goddess-like form. "Sorry- didn't know you were coming over or I woulda' showered sooner, you don't mind if I get ready right?"

Manny swallowed dryly, not trusting his voice at the moment.

"Mmhm" His bright orange eyes never left your form as you shimmied your underwear on under the towel. You were talking but all the blood from his head was rushing south, so he didn't catch a word until you said,

"-date, I mean I've never been on a real one so I'm nervous ya know? I almost called Marcos up to ask for advice but he'd never let me live it down." You giggled to yourself slipping on the lace bra. Meanwhile, his mind was melting. How could you drop such a bomb on him at a time like this?! he was torn between kissing you and bursting into tears.

"W-uh, date? like with a person?" he tried to keep his tone light, but he could feel himself beginning to unravel at the seams. His hands anxiously wringing themselves in his lap. He'd sat up the second he heard the word date come out of your mouth. His shoulders tense as if he were about to pounce.

"Yeah, you know that cute guy from the cafe we go to? He wrote his number on my receipt yesterday and I dunno," You paused to brush a few stray strands away, "I just guess I thought 'god (y/n) you're a twenty-two-year-old virgin and if you keep being the hermit you are, that will never change'." you said slipping on a knit sweater, "Just feels kinda nice to be wanted you know?" You offered a shrug as you began browsing your clothes for bottoms that satisfied you, completely unaware of the total mental breakdown your bestie was having on your bed.

He made up some half-baked excuse to leave and all but ran to his car. He could hardly close the door from how blurred his vision was, hot, salty tears cascading down his face, his cheeks flushed in unfiltered frustration, You wanted to feel desired? God, he could wring Ricky's neck right now, if Manny had it his way you'd have been theirs ages ago, but nooo, Ricky said to play it cool- now look what happened, he could hardly breathe as he hit his speed dial.

"Yo-" Marcos was interrupted by the loud sob from his younger brother, he immediately brushed the person off his lap and made his way outside, face set in stone, knowing his twin he figured it could be anything that set him off.

"Ya gotta breathe little man- y'know I can't understand you when you get like this." he sighed through his nose, his index and thumb fingers gently massaging the bridge of his nose.

"SHE'S GOING ON A- A DATEEE." Now that Marcos could understand, his eyes widened as he laughed to himself in disbelief.

"No she's not." he shook his head, an empty smile on his face, as he kept waiting for the 'gotcha'

"She is! I-I was at her h-house and she," he cut himself off with another whimper, Marcos, feeling his blood pressure reach a dangerous new high forced his tone to be as calm as he could, "What even- How is that even possible? We're with her 24/7, how in the fuck-" he scoffed cutting himself off. "Look where are you? I'll come with Cas, he'll get your car while you ride back with me and tell me exactly what she said." Manny gave him a shakey 'okay' before sending his location. 

It wasn't rare for all the Delmont boys to be together in one room, in fact, they had weekly meetings just to talk about everything cute you did that week.

This was different.

The air in the room felt dark. Like all their negative emotions had festered into a poison.

Ricky had called them all to his home office since his place was the biggest.

He was the last to arrive as he'd been hard at work in his father's shop- he dropped everything the second he got Caspian's call. Gabe sat in his desk chair, he flipped a pen back and forth between his fingers, the dark look in his eye meant nothing but trouble if Ricky didn't fix this soon. The twins were huddled on the couch he'd put in just so you had somewhere comfy to be when you visited. Marcos had a lit joint between his teeth, his right leg shaking rather aggressively, he made sure to look Ricky in the eye before ashing it on his previously clean floor.

Manny wouldn't even look at him when he entered, so he knew he was pissed.

Caspian was the only one to properly greet him, but even he could see the horrid mood he hid just under the surface.

After a moment of tense silence, Ricky exhaled sharply through his nose.

"Okay I'll say it, I fucked up." his admission of guilt broke Caspian's foul mood immediately, he knew his brother well enough to know pushing you into some random nobody's arms was the very last thing he wanted. The taller man moved closer to rub Ricky's back affectionately.

"We know you were just doing what you thought was best right guys?" It was rare for Caspian to use his 'Big Brother' voice on them so they knew he was serious. Manny's glare had turned into a small pout, finally looking at his older brother.

"What now Ricky? We do everything you say no question, no matter how many times I wanted to just take her in my arms and hold her the way she deserves- you said not yet." He pointed his finger at the older man, "Well now she's on a date with some fuckin' loser and she has no idea how we feel." Manny had stood during his rant, beginning to pace the room, his hands on his hips. "I know bud, look I thought we'd scare her off but clearly I was wrong." He flicked his tongue against his cheek. 

Ricky made his way to his desk, not so gently pushing Gabe and the chair he occupied out of the way. After a few moments under the watchful eye of his kin, he flipped the computer monitor around.

Gabe scooted back over with a sour look on his face, clearly not pleased with his previous removal, his face twisted into pure confusion at the content on the screen.

"You bought a house? This is in the middle of nowhere."

"Exactly." Ricky crossed his arms, anxiously chewing his thumb as the four of them crowded around the desk.

"Is this-" Marcos gaped at the images, his mind running a mile a minute as he realized what it meant.

"Home. Like the forever home ." Ricky then pulled out a manila folder from the drawer to his right. He flipped it open, his heart pounding, as he set it before them. Inside was all the detailed information he'd been collecting over the years, ever the perfectionist he knew he had to pick a place perfect for all of you.

"I've been looking at the land for years, the property is close to a small town but deep enough in the woods that we won't have to worry about strangers. There's a Gym in the basement-" He was cut off by Manny throwing his arms around his shoulders. 

"It's so perfect! She loves the forest oh my god she's gonna be so excited! When can we go?- Wait How are we gonna get her to go if she's too busy dating that asshole?" The speed at which his emotions flipped could be scary, but they wouldn't have him any other way, Ricky awkwardly returned the hug with a few pats on his back.

"Don't worry, I have an idea for that too," He turned to face the hulking blue-haired man still in his seat, Gabe pointed at his chest with his thumb, a goofy smile on his face, "Moi? What can I do for ya squirt?" Ricky ignored the nickname, "You gotta get rid of that guy before she goes on the date, I don't care how you do it, just make sure he doesn't show up." Gabe stood up so fast the chair shot backward, he put two fingers to his forehead and gave them all a wolfish grin. "One dead son'ofa'bitch coming right up."

The long-haired man then turned to his oldest brother, handing him a pair of keys from the same drawer he pulled the file from. "Cas I need you to stock up on about two weeks worth of food and anything else you think we'll need, she's gonna need an adjustment period so we gotta be prepared not to leave for a while." Caspian took the keys with a smile, affectionately rubbing the twin's heads as he all but ran to his car. "Oh! I'll get started on dinner soon as I get there-" The gentle giant trailed off now talking to himself.

"Okay, you two probably got the most important jobs, think you can handle it?"

Both men nodded their heads simultaneously, each looking like a puppy about to get a treat, which in a way, was exactly what they were.

"When that dickhead inevitably stands her up tonight I need you two to be there for her, order some comfort food, and when I text you the signal, give her these." He handed them a small bag of pills. "Gotta make sure she eats or drinks at least two of em', she should be out like a light in no time and when that happens, Marcos will pack everything on this list." Ricky handed him the paper with a stern look, "No extra, just what's on here got it?"

"I'm not gonna steal her panties or somethin'- I'm not Gabe." The older twin scoffed taking the list with a pout. "Considering we're trying to make it look like a voluntary vacation, we can't take any risks okay?" The older twin nodded, happy to be given the task around you.

Before the two buzzing men left for their tasks, the oldest one turned to Ricky with an evil little smirk, "What'r yooou gonna do while we're out doing all the leg work hm?" 

"Somebody's gotta make the world believe she's going, I'm just gonna go on all her socials and leave a long enough trail of evidence that if anyone does come sniffing around, it looks like she's been planning to leave for a while." He shrugged as if it was normal making Marcos laugh so hard he had to lean against the door frame. 

"What an evil genius."

[soshadysoquiet]

TUA S4 thoughts.

Below, spoilers.

Okay. Lord gonna need some strength to get through this coherently.

Basics first:

The Music: Maybe 2-3 good songs. Dissapointing. Let's talk of a mo about Baby Shark: to me it wasn't funny, the song being such a social media present one in this world really took me out of the show. Yes sure the funnies of parents having to listen to kid music and them being stuck that way but I really wish they'd taken the time to make an original annoying jingle. TUA is usually such a delight for the ears that this hurt me bad! Plus they then kept changing whether the song was on or off, seemed like Diego could control it somewhat, but then why would he turn it back on for them riding into the final battle?

The Dialogue: Felt forced and cheap in places. They can use the word 'fuck' now and seem to therefor have decided they don't need to make the characters have witty insults for each other.

The 'Themes' of the show: Why has my quirky family drama been turned into a 90's romance film. Who asked for this. No.

The "Plot": When your own characters don't care about the plot for the sake of shindigs you think will be more entertaining then you know you fucked up. It made sense the first 2 series them having side quests. Less so in the third. Even less so now. Literally at times they had to say to each other 'oh yeah shouldn't we find Ben?' I'll be here in the corner raisining. Also they came up with these 'stages' for the apocalypse but had one guy throw up, a couple things go boom and then they merge, it was one of the least threatening depictions of apocalypse I've seen - though that could be that it wasn't shot in very interesting ways.

Also side note for why there were so many shots that started upside down and rotated? Like I get if Klaus is upside down, and yeah the umbrellas are inside out, but it (plus the Bennifer monster) gave me too many stranger things vibes.

Now the sub-cast:

Jennifer: Love that for 1/2 the protagonist of the apocalypse she had little to no love put into her character, I legit kept forgetting her and Ben were part of the storyline. I loved that she was birthed from the squid, but why put something eerie and cool like that in and make it have meant nothing? Such a waste.

The villains [Gene, Jean and Abigail/Psy(sp?)]: Whilst I liked the idea of memories infecting the timeline, literally all of these guys was Tell don't Show. And for a series with only six episodes I do not want my time wasted with some side-character villains getting a dance number over the main cast. Despicable. Also there were WAY too many villains here especially if you then also count Reggie as one. Literally make Jennifer be trying to link up with Ben and coercing him (then Viktor could break through to him briefly from past experience of a similar relationship - the symmetry is nice) and have Abbigail be pulling the strings. There were so many side characters of no import that I lost track of the main cast. Hell, make Kenny's Mom be the bad guy I'd have loved that! Also, I like that Abigail was somewhat evil, but then they tried to make her good too? No thank you. Pick a lane not everybody needs redemption.

Special RIP to Diego and Lila's twins that Never Even Got Names 💀 fucking hell that's lazy ass writing.

Now the main cast:

Viktor: He deserved better, why bother to introduce that he's had a girlfriend, slept through the entire town, and owns a bar when you then don't talk about any of it. He's told to 'grow up' it's so specific, what does it mean? Also since last we saw he was the sort of ride or die for his love type (with both Leonard and Sissy) this is a frustrating turn with no explanation. Also his whole fight with Reggie and getting things off his chest arc felt forced and not as well written to me. And his character seemed to have been given zero changes from the last 6 years. I miss when his powers actually had a sound element to them rather than just, Havoc from X Men hands. You're taking the Viktor out of my Viktor.

Allison: We have no explanation of how she and Klaus found each other and fell in together. No info of how she and Reggie parted ways. We only hear that 'Ray left her' and nothing else. She says no one wants her at the party but then seems to know Gracie? Has she talked with Any of them since? Nothing was addressed from the end of last season, or even referred to being addressed in the past. I don't see the point of her new powers, or any of them having slightly off or new powers when then some of them don't? Either way, her rumours are so classic and now she's floating people? I see the link and if they'd been developing new powers over 6 years fine but no. You're taking the Allison out of my Allison.

Luther: Praise be, I did like Luther this season. He mentioned Sloane (shock horror, a love interest from a time gone by being brought up?!?! In TUA!!??) he was cracking me up and was really being Best Boy. Although I felt a lot of his dialogue was flat, and it seemed really out of character for him to start attacking the piñata? I don't think we've ever seen him physically lash out unless angry? It looked to me like 'oh yeah here's another silly gimmick that will be a haha. Diego, sure. Luther, no. They also decided (not surprised but always so disappointed) to make him getting ape-i-fied again humorous and not the soul destroying thing it would be. Also, why was he ape-i-fied??? His ape-ness came from the serum not the marigolds? Generally though, I really did enjoy him this season.

Diego: Love that we're throwing every over used marriage-in-pieces trope in the book at these two. Love that. Especially as they seemed to have sorted out some of their communication issues. I get their trajectories but was so deeply, Deeply bored watching it. Diego was sadly pretty dislikable for the whole season, which was real sad because I had grown to love him. There were some funny moments don't get me wrong, he's got too much personality to be a boring character, but whilst they didn't have to have a perfect marriage it was so dull and in hindsight such an obvious set up for the bleh that was to come. Plus they threw in a 'don't make me turn this car around' type moment to show how 'he's a parent now look wow' but I can't imagine any of the siblings hearing that and not laughing at him.

Lila: Again, marriage and wrong-conclusions and it was so boring. She's such a fun character and she was reduced to 'ooo how can we make her be a cheater and with Five' Why do you even need to do that? I just feel sad about it. And it doesn't help that we Don't Know Two Of Her Kids Names and neither her nor Diego seem to think of them for however long they're on the road, and she mentions them only once in the 7years of subway hell and both of them seem relatively undistressed without them. Sure, parents do need a break, but if you don't care about the kids visibly you know for sure I the audience member ain't gonna. Also why the eye lasers save for again a brief gag? It makes no sense when she then also has mimics abilities?

Claire: Let's give Claire a side note at this point. I do so hate it when shows decide to make children their parent's brains and moral compasses, take little to no time to show any bond between parent and child until the last 2 episodes, and instead choose to spend that time showing us how naturally fractious a relationship they have. Love that, so much. Never seen it before really. I get it's normal, but when ever other part of the show is cookie cutter predictable I don't need this too. Give her an actual personality that isn't "the wise old rebellious teenager"

Ben: Wow. So glad that A) I had to hear a character explain crypto currency for me, so glad we wasted precious time of a 6 episode series on that. B) Ben had changed 0%. C) that he had Even Less input and impact at the end emotionally than in any previous season and this one was About Him! And do you know why? Because D) they basically used star-crossed-lovers-can't-help-ourselves and made him use every creepy stalker OTT moving way too fast line in the books especially when Jennifer at a lot of moments was verbally saying she wasn't into it.. Also why does he talk about her like he's a 12 yr old and, idk, it was a shame to have no real impact from him until the end when he's suddenly scared and pushing Viktor away to save him but we see no connection from him and Viktor previously as to why he'd listen it would make more sense if it had been Klaus or Luther at this point.

Klaus: Now, I know a lot of his storyline this season came from the comic, and sure it's good material, that should probably have been used Throughout the seasons rather than crammed into 1 day. But let's chat for a hot mo: Now I like that we got to see him be nasty rather than the precious uwu Klaus that I've been guilty of perceiving at times, and that we see some of the negative effects of addiction on the family for the first time. Great moments, important. BUT. I'd have felt his rage out at Allison and turn to drugs would have been a lot more impactful if they'd bothered to show him waking up to the sound of being screamed at, barely able to hear his siblings, struggling to focus on them and wanting to drown it out. But we don't get that, the horror of what this means for him. Then we proceed to got through this whole let's have him want to get shot by a drug dealer (don't quite get why - or how Claire knows he's immortal now? did the powers back thing ever come up??) have him kidnapped and forced to prostitute himself, take more drugs (but still use his powers?) Develop a new power though without using the comic's fun quirk that he has to take his shoes off, and then bury him alive. Wow. this guy had plenty going on, but sure. Then -he can save himself, I thought this might become something poignant - he's able to conjure the dog to Go to Allison and lead them there, but no, he just gets rescued again. Gee I wonder what grave he's in Mom? All I don't know Claire, how about the Only One That's Been Dug Up? I thought it was really interesting to see his moments as a teen with Allison, and how he was living with her and thought they handled the worry about death/germs etc thing well tbf. Though also how the hell did he get home from being 13 hrs away and why nobody cared to go with him was pretty low.

Five: Dear lord that moustache was awful and I'm glad they all called it creepy and he had no concept. I despise 2 things they did here: made it canon that he gets romantic with Lila. Made going back into the literal apocalypse that he spent time having flashbacks about barely if at all affect him - it's unsure if his hesitation going back into it the second time was hesitation to go in there, and that's what I hoped they would do, but then, no. no. Please, Pleeaasse don't take away this nice, safe space I had in this nice, safe 'you literally can't sexualise him with anyone it would be so problematic' character and say 'they held out 7 years but yeaaahhh they hook up.' don't see why it was needed. It didn't 'heal' him, it was a plot for conflict but I've got plenty of other conflict plots that can end with Lila and Diego fighting without having to make every damn character have a god damn love interest! I loved their bond before, it was so fun and special to see a male and female not have to fall in love, and they ruined it. And it was for nothing? And they didn't have time to make the 7 years feel like 7 years and it was lazy writing for cheap conflict in my opinion. I hated it, I hate that it's "canon". I don't think I can describe just how awful I found it and unnecessary. I also don't buy that Five would be willing to not drink the marigolds as much as the others, or that there would be a timeline full of given up fives that sit around a diner. It was fun to watch though. And up until they started the montage in the subway and we knew where it was going I was enjoying Five in this season. that boy has had such a shit life and this is how it ends?

I will say that the flashback to them as kids was my favourite part of this series. It's always good to have a little deeper insight into how they interacted as children but I do have some Opinions here too of course: Reggie saying 'you look ridiculous' to Viktor, no, he made their outfits? I felt that was lazy writing when Reggie in the past has laid into Viktor's insecurities much more keenly: 'That outfit is only for your brothers and sisters / we've been over this, you're not special take it off / I will not have you wasting time with frivolity when the Academy has important work to do, leave us." etc. Also I thought there might be something different about why they all forgot their Ben memories. It was brutal yes, which I appreciated, but I can't believe that these guys wouldn't see their father kill their brother and not One of them flip their shit? Idk, it was a little... good and bad I guess.

I think that's it for now, if anyone read this far then well done! I might write a fix it post in a bit for my own entertainment.

[argisthebulwark]

Nothing Left For Me, I Am Pleading

summary: The fallout after you learn he's cheated on you. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Vilkas, Miraak, Farkas, Brynjolf, Cicero warnings: angsty hurt/no comfort. cheating in an established relationship. swearing. reference to sexual acts, nothing explicit. masterlist

Vilkas' fingers are uncharacteristically chilly when they grab your arm. Your stomach churns at the contact - mere hours had passed since they'd touched someone else. "Don't go." You see every muscle in his body tense - does he anticipate you lashing out at him? Your anger is far too cold for that, a detached hatred that drowns out any love you've felt for him. "Give me one good reason to stay." You sniff, glaring up at the man you've loved so deeply that it hurt. Your heart is shredding in your chest but you refuse to show him. After last night, he does not deserve to see you hurt. You will grant him no opportunity to comfort you. "I thought of you the whole time." "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" You seethe, wrenching your arm from his grasp. "How kind of you to remember me while fucking some stranger at the tavern." "Please." His voice is caught in his throat when he steps closer, hand still reaching uselessly toward you. "I - we just lost Kodlak. He's the closest thing I've ever had to a parent and I felt so fucking lost. I didn't know what to do with myself." His nose wrinkles and you know he's fighting back tears. Strangely, you feel no urge to comfort him - all you want is to escape this damned room. "I was there." You curse your voice for wobbling. "Farkas was there. Our friends were right there - we were all there grieving Kodlak. Together." "I know." He mumbles, sucking in a shaky breath. "I should have talked to you - I don't know why I did that. Nothing makes sense." "You should talk to someone, maybe your brother." You press your lips into a tight line, clamping down the sob tearing at your throat. "I hope you can figure things out, Vilkas." You do hope that he can figure things out. Grief is messy but when you turn away from him, there's a sense of finality to it. You clench your fists to stop their shaking and before you can take that first step away from Vilkas, his voice stops you dead in your tracks. "Can we try again someday?" His voice is so defeated, as if he already knows your answer. Why did he bother asking? "I know that Kodlak meant a lot to you." You squeeze your eyes shut against those damned tears. "But I can never forgive this." "I understand." Vilkas sniffs and you're glad you turned away. The sight of him crying could break you. "I'll always love you, though." You can't think of a response that doesn't break your heart.

"It meant nothing, Mal Dov." You smack away Miraak's hand - you know he wants to caress your face, to calm your nerves as he has so many times before. You can hardly think past her fucking voice ringing through your head. "After that, my hopes of being named High Priestess don't seem so far-fetched. Our lord truly is blessed, isn't he? Well, I suppose you know that better than anyone." She'd bumped into you like it was a silly little mistake, dragon mask pulled aside to display the messy state of her lipstick. The thought of what she'd done for Miraak - the thought of him with anyone else, it makes you sick. "Nothing?" You spit the word back at him. You hate that look on his face, the tears gathering in his eyes. He has the audacity to make you feel like the hurtful one. "In my time, it was quite common to maintain a concubine -" "Oh, fuck you!" Angry tears spill down your cheeks, that hot ball of rage fueled with every word that passes his lips. "You would burn Tamriel if another man dared to kiss me, yet you expect me to be alright with some priestess getting on her knees for you?" "My beloved, please allow me to explain." Miraak reaches for you once more, an offer that feels so loaded. You know that if you take his hand he will whisper sweet apologies in your ear and promises that he will spend the rest of his unnatural life with you. He will tell you that a passing moment with a priestess means nothing compared to an eternity at your side. "No." You reject, gulping past the knot in your throat. Drying your tears you turn, hands shaking when they clench at your sides. "No explanation will undo your actions."

Sunlight bursts over the horizon, bright and cheerful. Farkas' snores echo across the hall as your weary eyes wander toward the window to watch. Your throat is raw from swallowing those ugly sobs and your cheeks are stained with war paint and tears. Clutching your knees to your chest you wait, stuffed into the same chair you've been seated in for hours. When the doors creak open your heart leaps into your throat. You've practiced the speech over and over, memorizing the words and praying that you won't stumble but it's all gone when you see her. The woman is half dressed when she scurries through Jorrvaskr, offering you a kind smile when she spots you. "Sorry if we kept you up." Her voice holds no malice - you're certain that she's interpreted you as a disgruntled housemate. "Can you point me toward the exit?" Your voice ceases to function, merely pointing her toward the front doors. Uncertain of how much time passes you remain there, knees tucked to your chest scrambling for the words you'd planned out so carefully. "Gods, it's bright." Farkas' rich voice causes a fresh wave of tears. Through blurry vision you watch him emerge from the living quarters, one hand shading his eyes from the sun. "My love - what day is it? I thought you weren't back until Middas?" "The assignment was easy." You gulp, hating the way he kneels right in front of you. His thumb traces through the mess of war paint on your face and you suck in a deep breath. "Everyone acted so strange when I returned. I thought perhaps it was because I was a bit early - they were all fairly drunk." "We drank far too much last." Farkas moans, still scrubbing at your cheek. "I can hardly remember anything past dinner." "When Aela tried to stop me from going to bed I knew something was wrong." "My beloved -" "I saw you." You sob, shoving at his bare chest when he attempts to hold you. Your heart is cracking deep in your chest, fat tears spilling down your cheeks but you can't let him piece you back together. "I heard you, Farkas -" "It was a drunken mistake. Please," rough hands cup your face but you're shaking your head. You can't see him through the tears but you know he's crying too. "Please don't leave me." "I can't stop seeing it." You hiccup, curling deeper into the chair. "I can't even look at you."

"I would have raised him better than that." Karliah's hand pats your shoulder. "The Brynjolf I knew would never do that." "He did." Your voice sounds scratchy and far away. Whether it's from rage or the alcohol you aren't certain. You're lying flat on the bar, Vekel's infinite patience saving you from the floor as the world tilts and dips around you. "I have some friends in the Brotherhood." Delvin pipes up from somewhere far away. You aren't sure if you're laughing or sobbing at his comment, noises and tears slipping out of you. "Want me to kill 'im?" "I could kill him for you." Vex offers and you bury your head in your arms. You feel sick - you'd hoped that too many drinks would rid that image from your brain but it persists. His lips on her skin, her fingers in his hair, the sound of her sighing his name. "There you are." His voice still sends shivers down your spine. You bury your face in your arms, mind still stuck on the way his hand wrapped around someone else's waist. "I've been lookin' for you -" "To what?" Vex snaps. "Looking to do some more damage?" "Love, gimme a chance." "Get away from me." "C'mon, I know it was fucked up but we were together for years. I told her I'm with you, that we had to stop before things went too far -" "I said get away from me." You whirl toward him, the world spinning and your stomach flipping dangerously with the motion. Warm hands are there to steady you, Brynjolf's familiar scent filling your nostrils as your bleary eyes struggle to focus on him. "Talk to me, love. Just for a bit, yeah?" "We are done." You stare up at him, hating the way his eyes still make your heart flutter. "I'm taking some time off -" "Don't say that. Think of the Guild - we need you, I need you." "You should've thought of the fucking Guild!" You sob, hands smacking against his chest. "You should've thought about me! You don't get to do this, you don't get to make this my fault." "I know sweetheart, trust me I know it's my fault." "You should probably leave for now, Bryn." Karliah taps his shoulder when you devolve into a mess of sobs. His hands slip from your face and gods help you, after everything you hate to feel it. "Give it time." "I'll be here, love. Whenever you're ready I'll be here waitin' for you."

"I'm sorry." Cicero snivels, falling into your lap. "Cicero's so sorry, Listener - please don't leave me, don't leave your awful Keeper." The indecision is paralyzing; so badly you want to comfort him, to comb through the mess of his hair and wipe at his face until he's calmed down but you cannot. You can't stop thinking about the dreamy look on his face after someone else's lips touched his. "Please, Listener." He gasps, fingers screwed up in the front of your armor. You can't bring yourself to rebuff him but do not have the capacity to soothe him. "Please, Cicero is so sorry - they were helping with Mother's rituals and so kind to me, so sweet helping with prayers and honeyed words." He hiccups, a sob breaking up his explanations. You want nothing more than to forgive him, to wipe at his tears and tell your beloved that everything will be alright, but find those words too difficult. "Was I not enough?" Your voice breaks, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. The flood of emotions is too much all at once when Cicero buries his face in your shoulder. God it hurts - you've known hurt but nothing like this, betrayal that cuts down to the bone. "You're everything!" He howls, both your bodies shaking with the weight of his sobs. "Terrible, awful Keeper - I don't deserve that title, the Listener deserves someone much better." "Calm down." You urge, unable to resist rubbing a hand down his back. The sensation of his body curling into yours is so familiar but there is no warmth, no love in the way he clings to you - only guilt. His voice is torn as he mumbles your title over and over, apologies mingled in as he professes his guilt. "Love you, Listener. Love you, love you, love you..." he trails off, wet kisses placed along your throat. "Silly Cicero made a horrible mistake but oh, how I love you." "You know I love you." You choke on the words, shocked at how hard it is to say. You do love Cicero, you always will. "But my beloved -" "Don't, Listener - please, your Keeper begs you." He sniffles, breaths finally evening out. "Don't leave poor Cicero. Anything, I'll do anything, just don't leave." "I don't think we can get past this." His arms tighten around your middle, tears streaming down your face as the raw pain pounds through your body with each beat of your wretched heart. "You know I love you, my Cicero, but I don't think there is any mending this." You sit there, clutching Cicero to your chest and crying until your lungs threaten to give out. You are both painfully aware that as soon as you let each other go that is the end. When he slides from your lap he will no longer be your Cicero, you will simply be two Brotherhood members who cannot look each other in the eyes. So you hold him, allowing him to cry into your armor and shedding endless tears over the love you've both lost.

[thevoidstaredback]

So, I assume cores are like a ghosts version of autistic special interests, and assumedly not everyone becomes a ghost?

But what if Jack does, his core could be ghosts itself, and is one of the strongest fresh ghosts to be out there, one worthy of rivalling king Danny.

Oo! I like this. I haven't gotten too far into any world building, but let's see if we can do this some justice. I haven't ever written Jack, so this might be absolutely horrible. Also, most of my knowledge is purely fanon or what I made up on the fly.

Idk if this is what you wanted, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. <2

Jack Fenton had always loved ghosts. His parents read him ghost stories and myths and legends when he was growing up, his sister was very into the dark and macabre, and his brother even took him ghost hunting a few times!

Yes, the Nightingale family had been witch hunters, but an interest change came with the name change. It was a package deal, really. One that know one really registered until much later down the line.

At the end of his senior year, Jack meet Madeline. If you asked her, it was love at first sight. If you asked him, it was love at first fight.

Maddie, as she liked to be called, had been raised by her grandmother. The woman taught Maddie everything she knows about the supernatural, claiming to be a medium. No one ever believed her.

Jack had a friend throughout high school named Vlad. Vlad was, in every sense of the word, paranoid. He had measures against everything supernatural, metaphysical, real, ect. If you could think of it, he probably had something to counter it.

The three made quite the team in college. Maddie and Jack had applied to the same colleges, only going to the one that accepted them both. Vlad followed after them, saying that he didn't trust Jack to leave him on his own.

"Ridiculous!" Jack had whispered to Maddie, "He just doesn't like being alone."

Ghosts were the common interest between the three, having grow up around some kind of exposure, so when someone offhandedly mentions a theoretical way that a living being could enter the Realm of the Dead, well, they had to see if it was actually possible.

Which leads them to nearly twenty-three years later. Their research had gotten Vlad hospitalized, so he wasn't there to share in the success, but that hadn't stopped Jack and Maddie. They'd worked for years to build a portal into the Afterlife for the opportunity to study a real life ghost.

Their research, of course, had been shunned in many occult circles, but that's okay. Those guys were all quacks and crazies anyway. Who needs their approval?

Ghosts were the emotions of a formerly living being that had imprinted themselves on ectoplasm. The proof? There was a ghost attack on their college during their junior year. Everyone thought they had staged it because no one saw the ghost, but Jack, Maddie, and Vlad knew. They had gathered the small bit of glowing green goo to study it.

That glowing green goo had been what had powered up the portal when they got it build. They used it like a battery.

So why hadn't it worked?

Well, it worked eventually, but why had it taken nearly four hours after the initial activation of the portal?

Regardless, they had been right and now Amity Park was full of proof to prove themselves to everyone that had ever laughed at them! If only Vlad could've shared in the glorious moment. He's not dead! They just...lost contact shortly after Danny was born.

Jumping forward almost two decades, Jack and Maddie were sat down by their children, Jasmine and Danny. Apparently, Danny had been the one to activate the portal by dying. It was...a lot to process, but they were happy he had come to them, even if it had taken two years.

It made them rethink a lot of their thoughts over the years. But, you can't really teach an old dog new tricks, no matter how much you explain and demonstrate it.

They didn't hurt Danny! God, no. They'd already done that enough.

No, Jack and Maddie redoubled their efforts to study ghosts with the added intention of understanding them.

Everyone in Amity Park know that there's at least a 90% chance they'll become a ghost when they die. That is quickly lowered to a 50% chance when the understanding that intent matters in all situations, even death. Those who want to rest won't come back as a ghost. Those who have something to finish or do have a bigger chance of coming back. Maybe not with all their memories, but they might.

Maddie, when she died of a combination of radiation - because ectoplasm is barely radioactive, but consistent exposure for most of her life doomed her - and old age, wanted to rest. She had done enough in her life, so she was ready to leave it behind.

Jack, when he died of the same combination with the addition of pneumonia, wanted to be with Maddie. But he also wanted to finally finish what he and Maddie and Vlad had started all those years ago.

Upon his death, Jack remembered a conversation he'd had shortly after Danny had come clean about being Phantom.

"Dann-o?" Jack had asked one morning.

"Hey, dad," Danny had tried to smile, but he seemed so tired. He was always tired. Had he always been this tired? Was this a new thing? Jack was horrified that he didn't know.

Jack had sat down next to his son on the couch, not too close as to be imposing, but close enough to be comforting. "What's wrong?"

Danny took a very long time to answer, words seeming to fall apart in his mouth. "Are you and mom going to keep trying to capture ghosts?"

Jack blinked. Why wouldn't they? There was still so much to know! So many theories to prove or disprove! So much locked potential that no one was ever going to look into again simply because no one else thought it possible!

"I mean-" Danny scrunched his nose in thought, trying to piece the words together in a way that someone who couldn't read his thoughts or be in his head could understand. "You and mom have worked to study ghosts for basically your whole lives. But, now that you know I am one, are you going to stop? Like, are you going to stop hunting them - us - down? Are you guys going to keep trying to hurt us?"

Oh. Oh. He's- Danny, he's- he's worried that they'll hurt him? "Oh, Danny," he said, "It was never our intention to hurt you."

"But-!"

"But we can't just drop everything. We've been doing this our whole lives almost, like you said. What are we supposed to do if we stop it all?"

Danny didn't say anything. In fact, he looked devastated. Why..?

Oh. Oh.

"It's not like that!" Jack was quick to say, "We're-we're not going to hunt ghosts any longer. If anything, we'll probably just want to ask some questions? I don't really know. I'll have to talk to your mom about it some more, but- We don't want to hurt you, Danny. It was never our intention."

Danny had been very quiet and a bit distant for the rest of the week after that. Unless, he'd always been like that? But he opened back up a little while later.

Jack and Maddie had never really completed their research on ghosts, so it's no surprise that one of them would come back as the thing they spent their lives after. But now came the question of what Ghost!Jack's obsession is.

It's usually seen as insensitive to ask a ghost what their Obsession is. But, if you know what their Obsession is, most are beyond thrilled to share it with you, basically info dumping everything they know about the subject, sharing related items, and learning more with you. It's a fun experience for all involved, especially if two or more ghosts have the same or similar enough Obsessions.

Really, it shouldn't have been a surprise that Jack Fenton's Obsession was Ghosts, considering his life.

Once that was a widely known fact, though, some began to wonder what his core and powers would be. Aside from, of course, the basic power set that all ghosts get when they become a ghost.

Cores and powers go hand in hand with a ghost's Obsession. Sometimes they amplify one another, sometimes they compliment one another. Very rarely are they the same thing.

For example, King Phantom's core is ice, his Obsession is protection, and his powers relating to that of ice, mostly offensive and defensive focuses. Ember's core is fire, her Obsession music, and her powers are similar to those of the sirens of myths.

You get the idea.

Then again, the Fenton Family has never been normal, has it? Not even as far back as when they were the Nightingale Family.

King Phantom had figured out one day what his father's powers were, and, consequently, his strength. It was an accident, really! They hadn't seen each other in a while, and Jack's hugs were already monstrously strong before he'd become a ghost-

Who knew that ghosts could get shattered spines?

Jack Fenton, upon becoming the very thing he'd spend his life dedicated to, gained the ability to copy another ghost's power via manipulation of his core.

While most ghosts' cores were a single solid substance like ice or fire or shadows, Jack's core was ectoplasm. Able to change and adapt to his needs, not set in any one way.

Phantom was beyond glad his father, who became known as The Professor, was on his side.

Storyboard

[hjparisian]

you're losing me pt. II- theodore nott x reader

p: theodore nott x gn! reader w: angst (sorry not sorry), slight cussing summary: (Y/N) is coping with their fight with Theodore, but an unwanted conversation reveals more than (Y/N) expected. a/n: the long awaited part two, thank you all for being patient and for all the love you gave to part one. can't believe it took me this long to get part two out and im so sorry but i had trouble writing and coming up with ideas

Winter break had felt like the longest and worst couple weeks to (Y/N) ever. All they really did was sat in their room, read, attempt to study, and occasionally write to Pansy.

The Malfoy's had thrown a party on New Year's Eve. All pureblooded families were invited, which meant (Y/N)'s family and the Nott family. They were not ready to see Theodore. Unfortunately, no matter how hard (Y/N) tried, they couldn't escape it.

The day of the party, (Y/N) sat and stared at the outfit laid out for them to wear. Maybe it'll spontaneously combust and they would have no outfit to wear and can't go. Yeah, right. As if that'll actually happen. Their mother probably has a bunch of backup outfits for them to wear anyways.

At least Pansy said she would try to stay by their side the whole time. Keyword, try. Because Blaise would probably try to steal Pansy to go snog somewhere.

The second (Y/N) and their parents entered the Malfoy Manor, they felt like running away and throwing up. Why? Oh, because of course the first person they'd find was Theodore Nott.

"(Y/N)!"

Oh bless Pansy for catching their attention. But also curse her because apparently the sound of their name caught Theodore's ears and made him turn his head towards them.

(Y/N) looked away from him.

(Y/N) hugged Pansy. "Pansy! How has your break been?"

"It's been nice. Got to hang out with Blaise a lot," she said. "What about you (Y/N)? How have you been feeling?"

Now, (Y/N) could lie and say they've been great and having a lovely break. But of course Pansy would see straight through their little lie.

"If I have to be honest Pans, I still feel like shit."

Pansy looked at them with concern. The fact that the reason (Y/N) felt terrible was in the room didn't help them.

"Well, I know Millicent and Tracey are here and I know they wanna catch up with us. Plus there's drinks. There's nothing better than drinks at these boring parties, right?" Pansy said in attempt to make (Y/N) feel better.

The two had gone and found their fellow schoolmates at the side of the room. Unfortunately for (Y/N), Daphne Greengrass and her sister Astoria were also there.

Pansy and (Y/N) greeted their schoolmates, with (Y/N) avoiding eye contact with Daphne. They listened as Pansy was telling the other girls about what she's been doing.

"What about you, (Y/N)?" Tracey asked them. "Done anything fun during break?"

"I've just been home reading," They told Tracey. "My parents decided not to go to France this year so I've been cooped up in my room."

"What about Theodore?" piped Millicent. Pansy's eyes slightly widened at her friend's question. "You didn't go see him?"

(Y/N) wanted the ground to open up and swallow them whole. Of course their other friends would ask about their relationship with Theodore. No one seems to know what's going on other than Pansy and maybe Blaise.

"No I didn't," (Y/N) said. "He's been busy." They looked at Daphne to see any reaction from her but surprisingly it was pretty neutral.

"I think I'm going to get a glass of champagne or something." (Y/N) said. "Anyone want one?"

"Oh, one for me please!" Tracey told them. (Y/N) nodded before leaving to find one of the waiters walking around with trays full of champagne.

After grabbing two drinks for themselves and Tracey, (Y/N) turned around to find themselves face to face with the one person they did not want to see.

Theodore fucking Nott.

The boy also grabbed a glass from the waiter's tray and took a sip on it.

"So, you're here," He said to (Y/N).

"I am."

Theodore looked them up and down. "You look nice."

(Y/N) gave him a curt 'thanks', wanting to get away from here.

"(Y/N)," Theodore called out.

"What do you want?" (Y/N) asked him impatiently. "I've got friends waiting for me."

"Just wanted to say hope you're having a nice break," he said hesitantly, almost as if he wanted to say something else.

(Y/N) gave him an odd look before shaking their head and walking away, not wanting to look at him a second more.

Once (Y/N) returned to their group and handed Tracey her drink, they find Pansy staring at them.

"You alright?" She whispered. "I saw you had a run in with Theodore."

(Y/N) nods their head. "I just want to get this party over with."

The rest of the party had gone alright thanks to Pansy, who managed to stay with them the whole time. They went the rest of the break without seeing Theodore, but unfortunately, the holidays ended and (Y/N) had to return to school and see him.

They'd did everything they can to avoid being around Theodore for longer than they have to, whether that was finding a different route to classes, sitting besides Pansy a few tables away from him (though this one wasn't really a change), or studying in their dorm rather than the library.

The only thing (Y/N) couldn't avoid was sitting away from him during lunch and dinner. Sure, they could beg Pansy to sit farther down the table, but the others would find it odd that the two were not sitting with them since they always ate together.

So (Y/N) just had to suck it up and remain civil. The good thing was that even when Theodore and (Y/N) were in good standing, they would always sit with Pansy so no one would find it weird. This whole thing was a struggle because even though (Y/N) was upset at Theodore and trying to avoid him, they could help but seek glances at Theodore. So did he.

(Y/N) had enough of being cooped up in their room, so they decided to study in the common room one night. There were a couple people scattered in the room, but most of the Slytherins were either in their dorms or snuck out to merlin knows where.

(Y/N) was looking at their Transfiguration book until a voice disrupts their focus.

"Hey. Do you mind if I sit here?"

It was Theodore Nott.

"There's plenty of space in the common room Nott," (Y/N) pointed out. "You can sit somewhere else."

"Well actually, I wanted to talk to you."

(Y/N) rolled their eyes before looking towards Theodore. "What's there to talk about?"

Theodore huffed before responding. "We need to talk about what happened before break. We didn't exactly left off on the right foot."

"Obviously."

(Y/N) felt a multitude of emotions hit them. They felt angry, upset, frustrated. They weren't even sure they wanted Theodore to address what happened. It would either end in two ways, they would move past it and stay together, or it would lead to the end of them.

But (Y/N) knew they couldn't avoid this any longer. They nodded towards the seat next to them.

"Sit." Theodore sat down.

"So," (Y/N) began. "Talk."

"Right. Well, I think you should know why I was talking to Daphne." Theodore starts. "Her parents and my father were talking about joining forces with the Dark Lord. And my father decided I was old enough to join them."

(Y/N) saw Theodore rub his left forearm, where the dark mark was usually placed. This news shocked them. (Y/N) knew that his father supported Voldemort and preached his ideals, but they never thought he would make Theodore become a death eater.

"Daphne found out what happened when she overheard my father and her father talking with each other. She confronted me about it so I admitted it. Wasn't worth trying to hide if she pretty much already knew about it. She's been trying to calm me down and help me not think about what happened."

There were a million different things going through (Y/N)'s head, yet the only thing that settled was why didn't he tell them? They could've help him too.

"Why didn't you tell me about it?" (Y/N) asked.

The boy sighed, not daring to meet their eyes. "I didn't want you to get involved in this."

"Theodore, I don't care," they exclaimed. "I want to help you. I would've listened to you and help you!"

"(Y/N) this is not your place-"

"I'm not a child anymore Theodore!" (Y/N) screamed. "I know what's going on, I'm not an idiot!"

"(Y/N), you have to listen to me! Your parents aren't involved with the Dark Lord this time around. If I told you and someone finds out, you could put you and your parents in danger."

(Y/N) huffed. "Oh, but Daphne gets to know?"

"Daphne is protected because of her parents and she found out herself. I did not tell her."

"Oh, but you continued to talk to her about it!"

Theodore was starting to get frustrated. "Who else was I supposed to talk to?"

"Me! Your partner? Or even Draco, his dad supports Voldemort, he'd probably understand how you felt."

Theodore's eyes widen a bit at the mention of Draco's name, but (Y/N) didn't notice.

"Look (Y/N)," Theodore slowly said. "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about this. But you have to understand why I didn't tell you. I still care about you and this is something I didn't want you to get mixed in with, alright?"

(Y/N) sat there, calming themselves down. There was still one question that's been haunting them since the party.

"(Y/N)?"

"I just have one question for you." (Y/N) said, looking towards Theodore. The boy motioned for them to continue. "Did you ever feel anything for Daphne?"

There was a bit of hesitation in Theodore before he responded. "No."

(Y/N) looked at him oddly, noticing his hesitation.

"Theodore? Tell me the truth."

Theodore sighed before speaking. "I never lost feelings for you, but when I was talking Daphne, I felt different around her."

"W-what?" (Y/N) stuttered out. "Did you do anything?"

"No! I promise you I would never do anything with her." Theodore told them. "She's talking with Pucey anyways."

(Y/N) could feel the whirlpool of emotions coming back. Theodore confirmed one of the things they were hoping wasn't true. But he still liked them. But he's been hiding about him joining the Dark Lord. It was all too much to take in.

They leaned back against the chair with their arms crossed, staring into the dimly lit fire. "So, what do we do now?"

"What do you mean?" Theodore questioned them.

"About our relationship. What happens now?

There was a minute of uncomfortable silence penetrating the now empty room. The two of them not saying anything.

Another sigh emitted from Theodore before he stated his answer. "I think it's best if we take a break."

(Y/N) could feel their heart break at his answer. Their nightmare came true. They were losing him.

"There's a lot going on lately. With the war and Dark Lord rising it's going to be difficult to handle it all, especially with where I stand with him," Theodore said, motioning towards his left arm. "And I don't want to get you or your family involved in it."

"Yeah, y-you're right," (Y/N) choked out. "But we can still talk and be friends, right?"

"We can try."

(Y/N) nodded at his answer, trying not to let the tears welling up in their eyes escape. It seemed that Theodore had noticed it though, as he wrapped his arms in one last embrace.

"I love you, Theo."

There was a moment of silence before Theodore responded.

"I love you too."

The two sat there, (Y/N) quietly sobbing into Theodore's shoulder, not wanting to let go because that would be the last time they would be with him and would confirm their nightmare.

They lost Theodore.