#this is why kit hates everyone <3

[cronchy-spectre]

This damn audio has consumed my life for an entire week now and I was driven to make this

(He/Him) & (It/They) Respectively!

[starlit-typewriter]

Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 3

Someone did ask for the Fatui's opinion on the creator and well, this isn't quite that, but there are a couple of hints.

Warning for spoilers up to 4.6

Masterlist |Prev Part | Next Part

~~~

One of the biggest ironies in your admittedly rather long Genshin playing career was that you were not a “Try Hard,” at least you didn’t consider yourself that. You already spend enough time being teased as a lore fanatic and a completionist without adding that title on.

While you’d still level up your characters and try Spiral Abyss every once in a while, as long as they could handle the overworld content you were content.

It wasn't that you didn’t enjoy domain farming, not that there’s much there to enjoy. It was just an odd feeling of discontent when you spent too much time farming for a specific character.

Well, it’s not that odd you supposed. Plenty of people change their main dps all the time when they get bored with a current playstyle. 

For you, well it happened with supports as well.

Case in point, Zhongli.

The illustrious retired geo archon.

More specifically, his terrible build.

Well, actually the build didn’t bother you all that much since you didn’t use him very much, but it did bother one of your friends.

For context, that friend is a Zhongli simp so it makes sense that they would complain at your half built Zhongli with missing artifacts and half leveled talents. 

It didn’t matter since you didn’t use him.

But you couldn’t put your finger on why.

There was just something about him that you didn’t feel comfortable using.

It’s not that you didn’t know how to play his kit, that accusation is both untrue and hurtful.

He just felt off.

Actually, it’s not just Zhongli that provokes this feeling.

All the Archons do.

You could always come up with an excuse to bench them almost immediately after getting them.

Venti’s kit is too reliant on his burst,

Zhongli’s kit is useless if you know how to dodge,

Raiden could be replaced with Fischl,

So on and so forth.

But you know those aren't the truth, not the full truth at least. 

If you didn’t like these characters you wouldn’t have pulled for them. But a part of yourself is still uncomfortable with playing them.

It’s maddening.

Why are you benching perfectly fine characters that you’ve spent your hard earned primogems on?

No idea.

It’s like you’re possessed everytime you try to use them. A small angry part of you just hates them, which would be fine if it appeared before you pulled for them, but it only appears after you’ve wasted months of work of saving primogems on a character you won’t use. 

The entire situation is just so dumb.

You stared at your screen where your wishing team stood.

The newest Fatui Harbinger had just been released and from your playthrough of her trial and story quest, she seems very interesting.

You positioned them outside the house of the hearth and switched over to the wishing page.

It was a bit silly to have a ritual, but you couldn’t deny that it was fun to set this up.

A quick check to your primogem counter and you pressed Wish

~~~

The Knave exhaled, watching as her breath condensed into a white puff air in front of her.

Even after all these years, she never truly enjoyed the cold the way a Sneznayan would. However, this time was much different than the other times she’s made the trip.

If she concentrated, she could feel it, a tiny flame sitting in her chest.

A blessing,

She was never one for worship, her childhood in the house of the hearth had taught her to value strength rather than gods. 

They beat in obedience to the Tsaritsa of course, as an organization run outside of Snezhnaya, it wouldn’t do for the illustrious homeland to doubt their loyalties.

But this was different.

Everyone was quite surprised when rumors of an outlander running across Teyvat started popping up, of course with Signora’s brief meeting with them, they didn’t seem like they were much of a threat, however with Tartaglia’s report following the mission to retrieve the Geo Gnosis, things became much different.

It was clear that their potential to grow stronger was many times that of normal vision holders, and apparently had the ability to pass on that same potential onto others.

It had taken the Mondstatian and Liyuenian agents and embarrassingly long time to realize that those whose abilities had skyrocketed were more than just particularly talented vision holders, and in fact had an actual connection.

Namely the Traveler.

And the fools couldn’t even get that part correct since Lyney managed to figure out, within a few days of meeting the Traveler might she add, that they were not in fact that one that granted that potential, or blessing as some have been calling it. 

It seemed that they weren’t sure why this was happening any more than the rest of Teyvat, not that they didn't have their own theories she was sure, everyone has their own secrets and the Traveler seemed particularly adept at keeping their own close to their chest.

It was quite irritating as well, considering how Tartaglia’s battle skills have improved by leaps and bounds since receiving that same blessing.

Not that it helped all that much with their research, considering how battle obsessed the man is, she pitied the poor researchers in charge of getting him to sit down for an examination.

At least he went through it first and satisfied the majority of their curiosity before her children were blessed.

She already had a difficult enough time rejecting Dottore’s ideas for new collaborative projects they could work on. The last thing she needed was for him to have an actual excuse to get his hands on one of her children.

As good as a poker face Lynette had, Arlecchino could still see through her, it was clear she was worried about how this blessing may impact their operations.

Thankfully it was very little, as she wasn’t stupid enough to go around flaunting her newfound strength like other people.

Even so,

She rubbed at her own chest, feeling slightly discomforted by its presence.

It wasn’t malevolent, at least not so far.

From the Fatui’s extensive research it seems to be connected to an ancient god.

The ancient god.

It wasn’t something that concerned her until her children got involved, and well.

The information was interesting.

There are still many gaps in their information, which makes sense considering that it spanned the time before human existence.

The creator,

The unknown, unnamed creator of Teyvat.

Arlecchino let out a mirthless chuckle, if things were truly going the way it seemed, well.

Then there'd be no need for Project Stuzha after all.

Her gaze flickered to the side as Fatui members ran around the deck, preparing for docking. 

It seems that the first leg of this trip was over.

Her boots crunched as she stopped onto the pier, it never truly stops snowing in Snezhnaya. 

Thankfully she didn’t have to stay standing in the elements for long, as there was a prepared automatic carriage waiting, ready to take her to Zapolyarny Palace.

One of Sandrone’s more “useful” toys, no horses, no wheels, and heating on the inside as well. It glided on the snow as smooth as can be.

The knave leaned back in her seat, looking as elegant as can be, when in reality her mind was very much in turmoil.

 There would no doubt be many questions for her once she arrived at the palace, questions that she sadly had no answer to.

In all their research it was clear that the blessing was only for those that the Traveler favored, or at the very least those with whom they were on good terms.

Lynette and Freminet were never overt with their Fatui ties when spending time with the Traveler, and their youth made it easy for people to drop their guard around them. 

Even Tartaglia has his own boyish charm to him, and even he reported that he did not receive the blessing until after the Traveler had seen his softer side, babysitting his brother all day and seeing him sick and vulnerable.

But her,

She never showed such weakness.

While the Traveler did become privy to her past and her connections with her children, she did not view those as weaknesses.

The opposite actually, since their duel had proved that the Traveler had yet to reach her level. 

Not that it would take long, considering how fast they improved, she wouldn’t be surprised if they would be able to give Il Capitano a run for his money soon enough.

This whole affair was made far more frustrating than it needed to be. 

It just added another layer of complication to an already delicate operation; she's sure that Dottore will try to use as his chance to examine her further to see if this blessing could have any effects on her curse. As if she doesn't know her own body’s condition by now.

Regardless, it was of no true concern for her, merely another weapon in her arsenal.

Whom she was truly concerned for was Lyney.

The late bloomer in that little trio, the last one to receive a vision and, it seems in this case, blessings as well.

Not that there was any guarantee that he’d receive a blessing, there were many who’ve met the Traveler and failed to receive a blessing.

Of course the criteria is a bit more strict than that, but there is no true rhyme or reason behind it.

From what they’ve managed to extrapolate, all those who were blessed must have two things in common, a vision and a meaningful interaction with the Traveler. 

What a frustratingly vague criteria for such a massive boon.

Even so, she’d seen the glimpse of frustration and jealousy once she revealed that she’d received hers.

Not that it made that much of a difference, while the blessing is no doubt incredibly beneficial, as she’d told him before, she didn’t choose him for his combat prowess, but for his desire to protect his family. 

But of course children don’t listen.

She expected to have another talk with him soon.

The carriage slowed as it neared the palace, it was still daytime sadly so there was no aurora for her to see, it would’ve been fitting after all if she could see them on her way back from saying goodbye to Clervie. 

She’ll have to stay up late tonight it seems.

Not that she would’ve been able to sleep early anyways, her coworkers always seem to take joy in piling her up to her ears with paperwork the second her foot touches Snezhayan snow.

How terribly tedious.

Arlecchino could not stifle the sigh when she saw exactly who greets her at the gates.

Standing here, ignoring all the gawking soldiers was no other than the youngest of them. Wearing his winter coat he waves at her eagerly, clearly excited.

She could already foresee where this was going.

She shuts off his train of inquiry with a sharp “No,” the second he opened his mouth.

He pouts, following after her as she strides into the palace, her heels clicking.

“You didn’t even hear me out,” he complained, keeping pace with her.

“I already know what you were about to say, and see no interest in entertaining this train of thought,”

He sighs, dramatically, “I’ve never had the chance to spar with another Blessed before, can you blame me for being excited?”

“You have sparred with the Traveler on a couple of occasion if I recall correctly,”

“That’s different and you know it,” 

Still it seems that he is not willing to pressure her on the issue any longer, perhaps he is finally gaining some much needed maturity, or that her displeasure with the situation is showing more than she’d prefer.

Still that does not seem to stop him from gawking at her like a new toy.

“You don’t seem particularly pleased with your blessing,” he said, after a short pause.

The Knave lets her silence speak for her,

“Yikes, and considering Dottore was so hopeful that he’d get one when he made his trip to Sumeru. Using his original segment no less,”

“What that man wants is of no concern to me as long as long as it does not involve me,”

“Still, the Tsaritsa hasn’t made any proclamation about these blessings, makes me wonder what she’s planning,” 

“I’m sure her majesty has her one plans in place,” she replies noncommittally,

“I’m sure she does, after all two of her Harbingers have already been blessed, think of how much more powerful the Fatui would be if more of us were,”

“You sound as if you wish for our fellow Harbingers to share this same blessing,” 

“Well, won’t that be a sight. Imagine the Fatui Harbingers traveling across Teyvat to get into the good graces of the Traveler.”

“It sounds like the premise for one of those Inazuman light novels,” she commented lightly

“Right!” Tartaglia snickered to himself, before the two settled into a pensive silence.

“You never answered my question you know, and I don’t mean the one about a spar” he defended, raising his arms in a gesture of innocence. 

The Knave stopped, causing him to stop too.

Usually she wouldn’t entertain his questions, but

This one was poignant. 

Why did she feel so unsettled by this blessing, 

Well the answer was simple,

“Power does not come without a price, just because the price for this power has not revealed itself yet, does not mean I’m willing to relax my guard.”

Tartaglia’s mouth opened and closed a couple times, he didn’t seem to have a response for her. 

When it became clear to him that she wasn’t about to move and that their conversation was over, he excused himself, heading to his wing of the palace.

She turned her gaze to one of the nearby windows, she could barely see her reflection in the clear glass, her blood red eyes stared back at her, a constant reminder of her bloodline and powers.

Beyond that it was simply the frozen tundra that was Snezhnaya, whirling winds and snow, nothing but an empty expanse of white.

But for a moment, between blinks, she could’ve sworn she saw someone.

A figure,

Then they were gone.

She knew there was someone there, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember what they looked like. 

Were they tall or short,

Male or female,

What clothes were they wearing, or even what color,

Nothing.

It seems that the stress of traveling had caught up to her.

She scanned the landscape again,

Nothing.

Still white and pristine and untouched, no sign of any human disturbance. 

How very odd.

~~~

Masterlist |Prev Part | Next Part

~~~

A Taglist For those who've requested it!

@bunniotomia, @lucid-stories, @ymechi

Pls tell me if i'm doing this correctly.

If you'd like to be added feel free to send me an ask!

[madi-writes-things]

Nobody Pt. 1

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1,009

TW: Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it definitely happens and is talked about), Blood, Violence, Hurt Comfort, Not edited, Bad stuff under the cut

A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to pop in t let you know that my DM’s are always open if you need someone to talk to. I use y writing as a safe and healthy outlets for the destructive thoughts, but reading i these sorts of things isn’t healthy for everyone… keep yourself safe.

-Madi <3

Y/N’s POV

“”“”“”“”“”

“What do you want?” I ask when I see Chris walk into my room without knocking. I didn’t mean for it to sound so rude, but it just kind of happens when i talk to him. I don’t even remember why we hate each other, and i bet he doesn’t either… its just always been like this.

“Nick was too lazy to come upstairs…” he stared at me for a second before continuing. “We’re going out to film, do you want us to get You something for dinner?”

“I’ll just text nick what I want” as he leaves i wonder if he even cares. I only live with him because Nick and Matt begged me to come to LA with them after HighSchool. Nick and i have been best friends since eighth grade when I transferred to their district, and Matt has always been nice to me… but Chris never seemed to like me, eventually i stopped going out of my way to be nice to him.

I hear the door closes, quickly followed by the sound of Matt pulling out of the driveway.

“”“”“”“”“”

How did i get here? Nick would be so mad at me… he would never say it, but i know it’s frustrating when people you care about keep making the same mistakes. I look down at my thighs, realizing that I can’t even see the individual cuts through the blood. I should have just woken Nick up, if i had I wouldn’t be in this situation.

The tears have mostly stopped flowing at this point, and the adrenaline is dying down. The weight of what I’ve done starts to set in. I need to clean this up, I need to get help, I need to get Nic-

“What the fuck” as I look up I’m met with the icy blue eyes of Chris. Before I can process what is happening he is yanking the blade out of my hand and flushing it down the toilet. “Y/N, look at me… what happened?” Seeing the panic in his eyes makes me feel bad, he was never supposed to have to deal with this.

“Can you please get the first aid kit from under my bed?” The words roll off my tongue with ease. He just stared at me with fear in his eyes. “I’ll be fine, just go” with that he turned around and went to my room.

Chris returned a few minutes later, with my large first aid kit, and a gas station bag in his hands. I had been desperately trying to clean up some of the mess with toilet paper, but I was mostly failing. “Can you please sit on the side of the bathtub?” I stared up at him in confusion. “Please Y/N… please just let me help you clean up”

“do you even know what you’re doing?” His response consisted of turning his phone to face me, an article on how to clean self harm wounds staring back at me. “Fine…” I did what he asked and positioned myself on the side of the tub.

Chris started by wiping up what I had missed from the floor, quickly moving to sit in between my legs. As he started cleaning me up, I realized how intimate our position was. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes, but I could tell that he was holding back tears. After he stopped all the bleeding, and cleaned off the wounds he just stared for a second… and it broke me.

the tears started streaming down my face again, nothing could’ve stopped them. “Don’t tell Nick… he can’t know I’m doing this again.”

He finally looked up at me, taking a breath to steady himself before speaking. “again?” I just stared. He finished up what he was doing in silence before finally speaking. “Ok… I won’t tell Nick, as long as you let me help you with this”

“I don’t need help Chris.” He didn’t respond, causing me to panic. “Fine, but nobody can know about this.” He held out his pinky, I locked mine into his… an unspoken promise between us.

Chris disposed of any evidence, before carrying me to his room. I was too tired to protest, and it’s not like anyone would be up early enough to notice. He gave me a pair of sweats, and climbed into the bed with me.

“”“”“”“”“”

I woke up to Chris laying practically on top of me, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist. For a moment I didn’t mind… until I saw the time.

“wake up!” I shook him lightly, his eyes flutter open before widening at the position he was currently in. “I need to get up, me and Nick are supposed to go get breakfast for a video… he can’t know that I slept in here.” Chris quickly rolled off of me, and I rushed down the stairs.

As I made my way into the living room I could see Matt and Nick, sitting in silence. They looked at me at the same time, just as Chris came down the stairs to join us.

“Why are you wearing his sweat pants?” Nick stared daggers into my soul. “They must’ve gotten mixed up in the laundry…” I hated lying to my best friend, but he couldn’t know.

“I see… what’s your fake excuse for being in his bed this morning?” I looked at Chris quickly as we walked closer to his brothers. He met my eyes, unsure of what the right decision was.

“please Chris…” I whispered. “You promised me you wouldn’t tell him.” I see Chris make a decision, and before I can stop him he opens his mouth.

“We slept together.” He looked at me, apologizing with his eyes. I look between Nick and Matt, trying to judge their reactions. While this wasn’t ideal, it was better than the truth… until I saw Nick get up.

in a matter of seconds Nick had punched Chris across the face. After flexing his hand, he looked at me with nothing but hatred before walking away.

[christinebloodwrittings]

To hunt or be hunted #3

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: The Vee's had the audacity to try to ransack the Hotel, Angel gets some tea and biscuits, the Terror makes herself present after 30 years of absence. Warnings: Blood, torture, sadism, Valentino's sick ass.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink

“Who is she? The demon living in between the walls?” his severe tone made Charlie’s legs quiver, Alastor’s smile widened when he noticed. “Dad, what are you talking about?” she still tried to remain calm and cheery, “You know, I thought I was going crazy, but then she delivered tea to my room” ‘Fast, think Charlie’ she encouraged herself, her thoughts going through your bond straight into your ears.

“There’s someone living in the walls?” Angel asked at the same time as Vaggie and Husk, intensifying the princess’s panic, “Dad it’s just a spell I managed to learn, after the extermination I been working on my powers” a half-lie half-truth, but that seemed to do the trick.

Not because Charlie was any good at lying, but because the rest decided not to question her, why would them? Specially her father, who relied on denial, incapable to willingly accept his daughter’s lies, rather a consequence of isolation and desperation to have a good relationship with her, even if that meant that he would have to be lied to.

Meaning, a deep part of him was aware it was a lie, but the rest, decided to let it slide, painfully so.

“Yeah? Well your ‘spell’ needs work, it’s snappy” he joked, his mask better than his fake optimism. “I’ll see to it, dad” then she excuse herself to the kitchen, being followed by a dark figure.

“My dad saw you” she busted inside, closing the door and sealing the noise inside. You accidentally dropped the spoon you were using to sample the salt level of the broth, giving the startle, which the princess earned a grimace in return.

“Technically no, I was using my veil” she huffed, her horns growing on her head, “Did you tell him anything?” she was desperate to know, giving how much her hands trembled, “Only that he looked anemic, which it’s true, then he asked for who I am, twice” There was no point in neglecting lunch simply because Charlie was suffering from a tantrum due to lack of control over her own emotions, and a lie that was eating her soul.

“What did you respond?” she slammed her fist against the kitchen island, breaking the marble underneath, causing one or another shard to bury itself into her soft skin. “Just that it was none of his business” you lowered the heat under the pot, then turned to see the princess attempting to take the little pieces of stone out of her hand.

“This is bad” referring to the situation, she kept hurting herself, until you took her wrist and levitated the shards off and threw them in the garbage. “If you like them so much, why you keep lying? You’ve seen the worst of everyone, I don’t think they will judge you, they can’t anyway” the first aid kit levitated off the cupboard, eagerly opening its lid to reveal alcohol, povidone, cotton and bandages.

“How do you confess such a thing? I have two years left to convince you, and I still haven’t made progress” she spoke as she hissed from moment to moment, feeling the sting of the alcohol cleaning her cuts, then she watched as the bandages snaked from her wrist to wrap itself around her hand, then mimicked with the color of her skin, completely invisible.

“Is it really so hard for you to understand that I don’t need to be saved?” she lifted her sight from her hands to your eyes, “I can’t just give up on you” it’s funny how you understood her urge, but simply couldn’t put up with her selflessness (obsession) sometimes.

“You can, you just don’t want to” you looked over your arm, admiring the reminiscing of your deal tattooed to your skin, like a vine threatening to tear you apart. “Anyways, quit stirring your oatmeal around, you have to eat it” Charlie gave you a pout, you knew she hated it, but since you became aware of her habit, you made sure to give her a heavy breakfast, “But the texture” she whined, getting no reaction from you, “I don’t care”.

When she left, you noticed the deer demon’s shadow attached to the princess’s, you made sure to step on it to avoid an escape on its part.

It gave you a guttural whine giving the strength of your hold, “Tell Alastor that I’ll give him roasted venison’s heart as a treat if he holds his peace” he made a thinking face, then materialized words in the air, saying “My lips are sealed up tight as a drum, chérie” then your ominous buddy slithered under the door and out of sight.

Later in the evening, around tea time, while you were cutting the heart into bite size pieces, you heard a thundering  crash, a yell and things breaking. You let your nerves ease, Lucifer was in the building so he could handle things if they escalate to a mortal edge, so instead of worrying you let the meat marinate in a mixture of buttermilk, salt, lemon juice, various herbs, and spices.

“Y/n!” you heard the summon, “Valentino is in the hotel, please…handle the situation” you set the knife down, turned off the stove, “I’m on it” with that you disappeared from the kitchen in a swirl of smoke.  

The scene in the lobby was horrible, the moth demon had Angel in his grasp in any way possible, one hand on his chain, two hands handling all his arms, and the remaining one fondling him with the tip of a gun.

The star’s body was bruised up to no end, mouth coughing blood, and had cigarette burns along his hands and arms. Since he had a gun, there wasn’t much the crew could do, approaching Valentino would cause Angel’s death, no matter the strategy any of the present could think of.

In between Charlie’s pleas, Vaggie and Husk’s threats, and Vox’s amused laugh, the hotel’s phone rang. The sound drawing everyone’s attention, Niffty took the old looking phone off its base, “Hello? Oh hi! Yes, he’s here, It’s for you” Vox took a few steps forward, took the phone reaching it to his ear level.

What he heard froze every liter of blood in his body, his hands, the only skin visible, paled as the voice in the other side of the line, was one he thought no longer walked this earth.

“Child” you smiled, he could feel it, “Mistress” a crawling sensation invaded Valentino´s spine, nearly cracked his neck as he violently turned his head towards his friend, “There’s a total of three thousand five hundred and seventy-five employers inside the V tower” he tried accessing his tower security camera system, but there was no connection, there was a complete blackout inside the building.

“Truly the role of overlord turned into a joke” Vox felt a pang in his side and a nauseating sensation,

“Please, please, please, don’t-” begged a voice that turned into drowned screams, “The last time we had a conversation, I taught you a lesson, recite it for me, every word that you get wrong will result into the number lowering 10 employers each” Vox swallowed a lump of saliva, as he felt the cold traveling from his toes to his neck, every bolt in his body fighting to flow correctly as he tried to re formulate a speech from thirty years ago.

“The job of an Overlord-”he lost his words, on the phone he heard it, ten times a crunching sound ten times in a row, “Again” your voice brought him back, “The role of an Overlord sovereign, is not only to torment the souls he possesses. He must be disciplined, sane, cold headed, and have the will to care for those who grant him his position and power” of 37 words he had 6 mistakes, which resulted in seventy deaths, counting in the first ten.

“Do you or Valentino enter in such description?” his ego killed himself when he had to answer, “No”, that made you smile, “What are you now and what you’ll always be?” you had to admit, the view from the top of the tower was exquisite, the warm light from the city reflected on your figure, your axe glowing in the darkness drenched in tears, blood and saliva.

“An overpowered pest” Vox answered, being seen by his nemesis Alastor such a state of shame, being ridiculed in front of the king of hell himself, and what’s worse, his drone was angled in a way his little stunt was streamed live all over hell, that was truly a delicious sight.

“Good boy” Valentino felt sick hearing you take a different modus operandi, usually you were one to jump from nowhere and strike, not to sacrifice ‘innocents’ as a way of extortion.

“Let’s make it fun, mmh? Leave the star be, and maybe I’ll consider not paying your other V a visit” Angel heard most of everything giving that Vox made sure the phone was in between him and the moth, Angel was still on Valentino´s grasp so he was being obligated to hear the slaughter.  

“Val” the two overlord exchanged a look, Valentino groaned adding strength to the hold, making Angel cry in pain, “If I hear another sound of his throat I’ll knock down Velvette’s door” the two Vee’s heard their team mate voice at the distance, right in between your warning.

It all fell onto Valentino’s shoulders, but even him wasn’t that dumb, he walked forward with Angel, placing him at arms reach from Charlie, then he let go, “It’s done” you walked far from the door as you heard the bitterness in his voice, “Lovely, now, put Alastor on the line, please” he did as told, as the smiling demon hit him with an amused look on his face.  

“Vox” he placed the phone near himself, “I better don’t catch you lurking around in the district” when you wanted to, your voice could be as warm as a fireplace in winter, but also as cold as being buried alive under a snow avalanche. “Understood” he passed the phone to Alastor, shakily so.  

“Hello?” Charlie was stunned, Alastor’s mannerisms shifted, she wasn’t sure how, but they did. “Let me know when they leave” he heard the lack of amusement in your voice, the same you had back at his old studio. “They’re out” he said as soon as the door closed.

“Good, you’ll get your reward when I come back” You lowered the trinket that could be called a telephone, however the static of his voice caught your attention, “Vais-je m'entendre avec votre compagnie, ou me laisserez-vous manger tout seul ?” (Will I get it along with your company, or will you let me to eat all by myself?), Alastor caught Charlie then Lucifer’s stare, both surprised at the new voice he used when speaking French, smooth, velvety even.

“Will it make you happy if I joined you?” he wasn’t expecting you to understand him, but it pleased him to no end, “Oui chérie” (Yes darling), his antics made you miss the old times, “Maybe some other time, I am running late for dinner preparations” his smile didn’t faltered, but he was disappointed, “I’ll make sure to leave a glass of wine waiting for you in your studio, maybe in exchange of another song?” Charlie would have your head on the wrong end of her trident if you were to neglect your job.

“Merci chérie, which will that be?” you took a moment to process how attractive his voice sounded, before answering, “Surprise me” then you hang up.

Later that evening, Charlie repeated the way she wished to talk with you, busting the door open and sealing the noise, “What’s going on with you and Alastor?” ‘Straight to the point I see’ you thought while stirring the pesto sauce to fully combine it with the pasta.  

“Nothing, merely sympathy towards a comrade” perhaps that wasn’t the right term, but it was what you could think of, “You two had met already?” she made her way to the cupboard, taking out a few plates, “Not directly, but I like to think we both were aware of the other, but simply decided not to engage” it would’ve been deadly to have done so, perhaps for both Alastor and yourself.  

“Dinner’s ready, since I am not to be seen, I guess you can take it from here, make sure Angel eats it all” you left her even more confused than when she walked in.

Alastor made his way to his studio after dinner, finding the cooked little bits of venison carefully plated, next to a glass of Pinot Noir wine. He would never utter noises that would degrade his so beloved reputation, but at the first bite, he couldn’t resist letting a small moan escape his throat.

At 3 am, the so called ‘Devils hour’, a knock interrupted Angel’s poor attempt to patch his wounds up, “Charlie, it’s late for ya’ to be…who are you?” he opened the door, finding you, fresh from the shower, it may have been a bit insulting to show up in your ruined working attire all drenched in blood, so you thought best to freshen up before making an appearance.

“I believe you already know that” he recognized your voice, it made his breath hitch, “What are you doing ‘ere?” his courage faltered giving his wounds, but if he was going to die by your hand, he wasn´t going to go quietly.

“I been in your place before” Angel’s eyes fell upon the red tin box, then scoffed, “Yeah sure” his strength faltered, laid his side against the door frame, trying to make it look cool, but failing.

“Whether you believe me or not it’s not my concern, however, those wounds will get infected if not treated correctly, giving your line of work that would be a tragedy” Angel pondered for a second, in defeat he pushed the door to open it completely, granting you access.

“Exactly how you’ve been in my place before?” he asked, watching you take a seat in his bed, taking multiple things out of the box, “You are one of four demons with powers to the level of royalty, you own thousands if not millions of souls, you dared to challenge the fucking Goetia clan and won! I doubt you were ever in pain before” he sat next to you, your image above the rest popping into his head like an epic cinematic of a great villain arc.

He then had to snap out of it due to a sound, “You fucking laughin’ at me?” you held your laughter against the inside of your clothed elbow, making the spider feel embarrassed and a little scared. “I apologize, but your ignorance astounds me” you signaled him to wait, with a snap of your fingers there was a bowl of warm water and a cotton rag, applying an antiseptic to the water before starting to palp softly on Angel’s wounds.

“The correct terminology is ‘were’ dearest, I used to be that kind of demon, now, I’m just here to aid you” Angel found that hard to believe, but didn’t questioned you, rather enjoyed your care.

“Is it true?” after a long time of you washing him, he broke the silence, making you look up from the cigar burns on his hands, “Did you really murdered three Goetia?” that brought you memories, when you were young and hungry for power, almost nostalgic.

“What would make you believe me? Their severed heads or the scars on my body? Because I can only offer the latter” he hissed when the rubbing alcohol touched the cut on his eyebrow, “People say you had their heads hanged on your wall as trophies” you laughed again, people’s bad mouthing can get to be really impressive, imaginative even.

“I would truly be a monster if I didn’t offered my fallen opponents a dignified burial, don’t you agree?” You had challenged three lesser lords to duel, to death of course, which they had agreed to, spoken and in paper, you would never be as foolish as just bust the door open and kill whomever.

“Please don’t speak of my presence here, if you are good, I’ll make cannoli for tea time” he could see that you were in a similar situation as his, being owed, as well as your subtle urgency. “Sure toots, I won’t”.

“Hey, can I ask, why Axe-man?” he spoke, when you were finishing to brush alcohol on the cuts on his back, “The local paper and the New Orleans police named me that, I just didn't want to change it when I got here, and people respect a man killer more than a woman, or that’s how it used to be” he didn’t needed stitching, if Valentino wanted to really hurt him, you’d probably would have to sew limbs together.

“That’s it? I mean…I thought it was somethin a bit more dramatic” you despised (understatement) the Italian new York accent he spoke with, but he was nothing like the Italian mobsters of yesteryear, he walked with the grace of a runway model, proud of his looks, his fame, himself, but masked all his pain and self-loathing within. You felt as if you were staring at a younger version of yourself, so full of life, yet lacking purpose.

“Well at the time no one could think a woman was smart enough to participate in politics, much less kill someone, I embraced that alter-ego over time, it became a second skin…so to speak" it was wise to believe that last statement.

Angel hummed in agreement, getting a good look at you. Yellow-beige skin; the heel of your hand was hard and rough probably because of your lion looking appearance, big fluffy yellow ears on each top side of your head almost disappearing into your hair. Taking out the ears, the long heavy tail, and the black cat nose you have, you could pass for a human, or almost looking similar to Charlie.

He was so tempted to touch your tail, color that matched your skin and the ears, but you got up before he could reach.

“Now, take those pills, every six to eight hours should help with the pain and the swelling, I suggest you take it at a much appropriate time” he watched you as you gracefully poured tea into a white and pink tea cup, leaving it on his night stand along with a little biscuit.

“Thank you” your ears twitched happily, “My pleasure, dear, rest” never, not to any living soul, would you admit that you enjoyed being useful, but it made you feel lighter, like breathing fresh air for the first time.

“By the way, the butler aesthetic suits you, ya’ look hot”

“Thank you, I have to look the part, don’t I?”

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

Author note: No matter what type of body you have, you would slay in that outfit!

Part 4

[benedictscanvas]

be still, my foolish heart [2] - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k

series warnings: lots of language throughout, some allusions to smut but nothing explicit, a LOT of fucking fluff mostly ngl

a/n: the response on the first chapter of this was so overwhelming in the best way. i'm literally beside myself that people enjoyed it! my current plan is to update this every other day and try and get some little blurbs and one shots out in between. have a fabulous saturday night my loves <3

series summary: when jamie gets called up to the england team for the first time, he's terrified. enter you, all smiles and swearing, and suddenly his only fear is falling head over boots for you.

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

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chapter two - i swear i thought i'd dreamed her

“Is that all you’ve got, Tartt?”

“Oh you’re so fuckin’ on, Rife.”

It’s day four of training camp. Jamie is over the moon to find that the England lads are largely similar to his Richmond lot and while he’s not half in love with them like he is back home, they’re a good bunch of lads. They get on. They can rib each other endlessly and then enjoy a good meal. He feels far more at home than he could have imagined.

He hadn’t expected Ted to get quite so jealous when he was telling him all this on FaceTime the night before.

“It’s nothin’ like being at home, though, Ted. ‘Course fuckin’ not. Haven’t got a grandad screaming at me all the time, ‘ave I?”

That was enough to placate Ted, allowed him to get on with telling Jamie how everyone was getting on at Richmond. Apparently, Ted had originally called him to get some advice on hair care products, but Jamie didn’t buy that for a second. He knew Ted could tell how nervous he was before he left. He was so grateful to have a gaffer - and a friend - willing to make up a shit excuse to check up on him.

He was holding his own in the training sessions too. He knew he wasn’t first choice up front, and however much it might have irked him previously, now he was able to enjoy the prestige that came with being here. The feeling he got when he shrugged on his England kit every morning just like he’d dreamt about when he was only a sexy little baby.

He loved penalty practice with Rife, tackling Marko in a 5v5 and knowing he’d be tackled back any second. He knew they were training for what would turn out to be some of the most important matches of his career, but it didn’t feel like it. It felt like making a few new friends and dragging them down to the nearby pitch everyday to have a kick about. It felt nice.

Still hadn’t managed to talk to the City lads, though.

It was beginning to affect his play, too. When one of them would shout out an instruction to him, he’d do it without hesitation, wanting to make nice. But he knew that his own instincts got him his place on this team and blindly listening to others wasn’t going to get him any minutes.

Which was why he was stood behind a plant, outside the hotel bar, trying to figure out his move to just go over and talk to the fuckers.

They were nice lads. He knew that. They used to be friends, yeah, but he was a prick back then, so maybe they only liked prick Jamie and weren’t that nice at all. Or they hated prick Jamie and wanted nothing to do with him ever again. Or they thought he was a total joke who didn’t deserve to be there. Or-

“What did the plant do to you?” came a voice from behind him, which made him realise he was gripping the stem with a vengeance, “You need me to kick it over? I’ll do it, but you’ll need to be lookout.”

That playful teasing, that voice, was familiar. When he turned and found you, kind head of PR you that he hadn’t seen properly since your first meeting, he couldn’t decide if he was a lucky bastard or had the worst misfortune in the whole world. He groaned either way as he let go of the poor plant.

“I’ll water it later to say sorry, I guess,” he said, patting a leaf in a way that felt pretty pathetic, “You’re stayin’ ‘ere too? I haven’t seen ya.”

That wasn’t totally true. He’d seen you about once a day since that first day, but only around the camp itself rather than the hotel. The two of you had shared curt nods each time, a reminder of your first meeting, but each time these nods had been followed by easy smiles to each other.

Each time you’d been sharply dressed. A pencil skirt here, a trouser suit there. It reminded him a little of Rebecca, except for the little touches that he’d noticed you let slip through the professional facade. A beaded anklet, a pair of fluffy earrings. You were a ray of sunshine around the place, that much he had picked up on. The regulars at the camp greeted you as a similar breath of fresh air.

“Perk of being head of a department,” you smile, “How’s training treating you? Issues with the grass that you’re taking out on all plants in sight?”

There was a very loud sigh waiting in his throat. He could make up a lie about waiting for someone, or checking out the plants because he wanted to get himself one back home, but you’d see through any bullshit he offered up. And he didn’t really want to bullshit you anyway.

“More embarrassin’ than that, I think,” he admits, watching as your face falls from that teasing smile to something with more worry in it. It’s very hard to keep eye contact with you when you’re looking at him all concerned like that, “I’m gonna give y’ the option to walk away now, if ya want, so y’ don’t have to be part of it, like.”

He watches you make a face as if there’s an obvious answer to what he’s just said. Without thinking, he takes a quick glance back at the City players huddled around the bar to check they haven’t clocked him. Of course, you notice.

“I hope you know how mysterious and intriguing you just made this situation,” you say as you come to stand beside him, more behind the plant than you were, “Something to do with the lads in there?”

That big, loud sigh he’s been holding in manages to break free.

“Yeah, it is. Yeah,” he doesn’t even know how to say it without sounding like a sad sack of shit. You smell really good and it’s the first time he’s seen you in anything other than work clothes and you look incredible in cargos. His thought process is scrambled, “They’re all City, yeah? Sooo…we were teammates an’ then we weren’t. Now I’m…fuck, I don’t even fuckin’ know what I’m doin’.”

Part of him hates swearing like that in front of you until he remembers your penchant for swearing. He hadn’t looked at you when he was talking, but when he risks a look back at your face, there’s no more of that worry that had been there briefly. There’s understanding instead, and he likes it a lot more. 

“You want to talk but don’t know how? Think they hate your guts?”

“Well, it’d be hard to hate these guts,” he says, words cocky but he doesn’t get the tone right and he’s quick to self-deprecate instead, “But yeah, that sums it up. Pretty fuckin’ pathetic, huh?”

“No. Not fucking pathetic at all, Just Jamie. Don’t call yourself that.”

You’re looking at him expectantly so he nods, a little confused by your ferocity.

“Good. Not pathetic,” you say again, for him or for you, he isn’t sure, “So, let’s get us a game plan. How about we go in there, order a drink maybe, definitely some chips, and I’ll wave them over after ten minutes. I’ll make up some PR bullshit, get the conversation going.”

He hesitates. Suddenly, he realises his previous plan was to stare at them all night through the leaves of this plant before running back to his room when they looked like they were about to get up.

“I dunno…maybe I should leave it? Like, I’m making a big deal out of nothin’, really.”

“I think they’d appreciate you making an effort,” you insist, “I can confirm that they don’t hate your guts, if it helps. They’re decent lads. Warne is a dickhead, but he’s harmless. I’m sure you know all this, really.”

“You might be underestimatin’ what a dickhead I was, Just Y/N,” he laments, although the use of what he could now call a nickname between the two of you makes him feel better, “I was fuckin’ awful.”

“No, I know,” she says instead, and he wasn’t expecting that. His head snaps to gape at her so quick she actually laughs at him, “I watched Lust Conquers All. It’s trash but it makes you feel better about yourself, you know? And yeah, you did seem like a dickhead, but you don’t seem like one now. Anyone with half a brain would notice, so I’m sure even Warne will realise you’re not coming at them from the same place you were at.”

It’s a lot to process. Firstly, that yet another person has watched that godforsaken fucking show and it’s you and he feels like a total idiot in front of you now. But then he registers the rest of it, that in such a short time you’ve just proclaimed that he’d obviously not like that anymore. That he’s changed. He knows he has, but he doesn’t always expect other people to notice straightaway.

“How the fuck did you watch that show and still manage to be so nice to me when we met?” he asks, because he can’t help himself. He wants to know the answer. Wants to know if you’re just like that with everyone, because that would probably be easier.

“Hey,” you lower your voice, “Richmond fan, remember? I’ve been to the games. Even a couple of the open training sessions. Everyone at Richmond knows you’re a different person now, right?”

He gulps. Nods.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. So…I do too,” you’re practically whispering now. Talking to you is like having a piece of Richmond with him, maybe even more so than the playlist. You’re Richmond and you know the new Jamie. It means more than he should tell you to feel like he has someone on his side, “Also I’m pretty good friends with this guy at the club. Do you know Trent Crimm?”

“You know Trent?” he exclaims, louder than he should. You hush him, but you’re smiling as you do it. He repeats his question a lot quieter, “Sorry. You know Trent Crimm?”

“Yeah, he used to do some reporting on England, for a while. We ended up chatting quite a lot. There’s not many male football journalists out there worth making friends with, but Trent’s one of the good ones. He texted me to look after you, actually, so you must be pretty great.”

Now Jamie was really torn. On the one hand, Trent texting you to take care of him was really fucking nice for a man he hadn’t even spoken to all that much. On the other hand, there was now a sinking feeling in his chest that all this kindness was a favour to Trent and had nothing to do with him at all.

“Oh. That’s- uh, that’s nice to hear.”

“Oh fuck, that’s not why I want to help you!” you said quickly, like you’d read his mind, “I just saw you with the plant, wanted to check you were okay. I’m not just, like, fulfilling a promise to him or anything.”

That sinking feeling lifted. Especially because he liked that you wanted to make sure he knew that. He could feel little pieces of his confidence floating back into his body. They were on thin ice, however, when you tugged on his arm to follow you as you walked straight into the bar, heading directly for the City players as you did so. He had no choice but to follow you.

His first thought was that you really did look criminally good in cargos, and his second thought was that this wasn’t in the fucking plan.

“Boys! My City Folk,” you greet them, definitely going for awkward on purpose. The three players smiled and waved as you came to stop beside them at the bar, Jamie following behind attempting to look as cool as possible, “I do hope you’re not breaking any rules? I am a known grass, and I will tell Gareth.”

They laugh and Jamie joins in because then maybe he’ll be part of things. Also, you’re funny, and he can tell you know it.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, just water for us tonight. We thought if we came down here, it might at least feel like we were drinking.”

“And I thought there might be some girls to chat with,” Warne added, as expected by pretty much everyone who knew him, “None around until you showed up, Y/N.”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Warne,” you reprimand, though there’s enough teasing in it that he just grins, “Didn’t the others remind you this hotel is entirely booked out for England players and staff?”

“Yeah. But you never know who you haven’t met yet.”

Jamie snorts at that and it draws more attention to him than he’d like. But it’s an opening, and your eyes are wide telling him to go for it! So he does.

“Strangely profound for you, Warne,” he supplies, grateful when you chuckle and the other two City boys join in, “Hey, how about the next round of water is on me?”

That really draws a laugh out of them, even Warne.

“You were always a generous son of a bitch, Tartt,” Rocky smiles, clapping him on the back. Again he sees an opening and with you still looking at him all encouragingly, he wants to take it.

“Nah, I wasn’t. I was a prick when we last talked. But I’ve been told I’m slightly better now, sometimes,” he glances at you when he says it, but you look so fond he has to look away, “Anyways, what I’m tryin’ to say: I’m sorry for before. Hope we can start fresh, like.”

“Mate,” Rocky shakes his head, brushing him off, “We’re all good. Long as you don’t keep drifting offside when I’m trying to thread one to you, I think we’ll manage.”

“Yeah, and don’t beat me in the fitness trials, alright? That’s my time to shine,” Warne adds, and even he’s got a friendly look in his eye, an attempt to respond to Jamie’s obvious and unexpected vulnerability. The weight that Jamie feels lift off his chest is massive. He can breathe properly again.

“No promises, mate. I’m fuckin’ fast now. Lightning, me.”

And with that, it’s easy to fall back into the banter he was used to. When Warne has launched into a story about not being able to find a toilet in Ibiza, he turns to you to say a silent thank you, but you’ve vanished from his side. He tries not to let his disappointment show on his face.

Searching around for a second, as subtly as he can, he spots a flash of your cargos behind the plant he’d been so well acquainted with. You pop your head out when you see that he’s looking and shoot him a double thumbs up and it’s all he can do not to excuse himself from the conversation and run over to you.

But you’re already giving a little wave and walking the other way. He watches you until you’re gone. Lets his eyes linger even a little longer than that.

When he turns back to tune into Warne again, hoping none of them noticed his wandering eye, he’s so incredibly grateful that you helped him face his fear. That he’s got his wish, and can get back to the game he loves without anymore unfinished business hanging over him.

Alongside that gratefulness, is the tugging at his heart that thinks his position behind that plant wasn’t so bad, once he gained some company. 

But he wouldn’t have flirted with you. He isn’t going to. Bad idea. Just talking, in a totally friendly way, would have been a pretty fucking nice evening, he thinks.

---

next chapter

if you've got this far, i fucking love you!! <3 and if you're at all into real life football like i am (enough to be pursuing a job in the field ffs) then see if you can work out who any of the England players might be based on hahaha

[fromabasementonthehilll]

My Girlfriend Is a Witch (pt.1)

͙⁺･༓☾ - Summary: after finding the cabin, lottie ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎had begun acting weirder than usual.

Pairing: lottie matthews x fem!reader

Warnings: ...

Pt.2

a/n: thinking of making this into 2 or 3 parts?? this is more of a build up so I'm sorry if it's a bit slow!

∘₊✧────────────────────✧₊∘

It had been a week, maybe more, after the crash. You counted the days - believing it wasn't long until you would all be found and saved. Everyone followed the same belief, but it slowly began to lose its appeal as the days got longer and there was no promise of rescue, and you had lost track anyway.

Misty had treated you alongside everyone else, she wrapped your gashed shoulder up with a bandage out of some emergency aid kit in the planes cabinet, which you had been unwrapping everyday to keep clean. It was fine at first, but the shortages of antibiotics and extra bandages had it healing much slower than it should've, it hurt like a bitch and you were putting up the best 'tough' act you could to avoid adding anymore stress to the situation.

You sat outside of the cabin on a broken log, setting up fire to cook dinner, faintly smelling the herbs in the air that Mari managed to find whilst the others were either doing laundry or getting water from the nearby lake. Lottie hadn't been doing much, though. Her mind was in a different place ever since the crash, you noticed as she began to act differently recently, but you thought nothing of it - everyone else had been stressed, unorganised and tired, so why would it be out of the ordinary for Lottie to feel the same?

You and Lottie began dating a month before the flight, she had confessed to you one day after practice - you watched panic on her face as she barely managed to get her words out, before you laughed in reassurance and told her you felt the same way. Neither of you had told anyone about your relationship and wanted to keep it that way - it wouldn't benefit you or her.

"Hey, you okay?" she came up to you, sitting on the log opposite of the one you sat on, her expression ardent each time she saw you.

"Yeah, is Shauna done with the meat yet?" You asked, feeling hunger eat away at your stomach. "No I don't think so, she's trying to get Jackie to do something," she explained, "I'm sure she'll be done by the time you set up the fire, though." you nodded, giving up on rubbing sticks for the time being. "You look real good for someone who's stranded in the wilderness, y'know" she laughed, watching you trying to rub off the ash from last nights fire, "Shut up, Lottie" you teased with the same toothy smile she loved.

It took you a while to get used to the new situation, though more often than not you were helping around with things. In around 5th grade your parents thought it was a good idea to get you into girl scouts, you partially hated them for it - the uniform sucked and you'd always be covered in dirt. You had been mentally reciting the folklore stories told by the counsellors; as the wilderness caved in some of your old memories, often wondering if they had any truth to them. You stayed there until you turned 14, learning a bunch of survival skills that you brushed off as stupid, it was ironic how useful they were now.

"Lot, how are you?" You hadn't asked that in ages, too preoccupied with surviving, just as everyone else had been. Lottie's breath hitched, knowing she wasn't fine at all, considering her meds ran out. "I'm fine, I just missed you (y/n)." She smiled sheepishly, suppressing the doubt she had in her own words. She truly did miss you, the distance that brewed between you two wasn't as bad as it could've been, but she needed you the most right now.

You could sense her unease, standing up to sit next to her, "You can talk to me, you know that right?" You moved your hand towards hers, smiling warmly as you looked at each other. her eyes were filled with anguish, her jaw clenching before she spoke,

"Promise you won't think I'm weird?"

"I promise."

You leaned towards her, watching as she tucked her hair behind her ear before letting loose of her worry, "I've had these strange visions," Her gaze was diverted to the floor, "and I've been hearing things." she shook her head in disbelief, almost shocked; confused. "What kind of visions?" You kept your eyes on her, not thinking any less of her. "I don't know, it's like I can see what happens before it happens." She gave you a sorry look, you opened your mouth to speak before being interrupted by Shauna, "Here." Jackie stood behind her as Shauna handed you the meat, looking at it in complete disgust.

Lottie wasn't given the opportunity to offer you an explanation, but it made sense to you, considering her strange act for the past week.

-

The night grew colder than the last, you had been sleeping in the attic with lottie for the past few days to prove it wasn't haunted, and you struggled to keep heat upstairs. "Just sleep here, near the fire." Shauna stated after you had tried to haggle for more blankets, you refused, though, wanting to spend more time with Lottie and keep an eye on her after she had opened up to you. "well feel free to come downstairs, there's always room." she finished, laying down the pillows.

You climbed the ladder to see lottie already there, facing the window - illuminated by the moon and stars. sitting behind her, you spoke, "Another vision?" It was a couple days after she had spoken to you about them, and she told you what she could. They weren't too frequent, but when they happened you'd stay close to her.

"I heard a baby crying this time, it went on and off for a while, but I cant figure it out." Her words were cold and hurt. You were the only one who knew about her newfound state, since you swore not to tell anybody to avoid Lottie seeming crazy to the others, and that's why you tried your best to understand, to help her. but often your help was useless, you figured it might've just been a trauma response to the crash, and you stuck around. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, hugging her from behind, bringing your body close to hers and resting your head on the back of her neck.

"Things'll gonna be okay, Lottie." Your voice was warming, bringing slight comfort to her discomfort.

You two sat there for a while, your eyes resting as she gazed at the night sky, before she turned to face you. "What if they won't be?" She bit her lip, making constant eye contact with you. She'd wear your jewellery often, you assumed it just got lost in the crash until you noticed, but she just wanted you close to her when you weren't around, and talking to each other for more than a minute was rare lately, so she had resorted to constant distress and longing.

She couldn't risk hurting you as a result of her own disturbance, just like she had before, and she subconsciously needed your reassurance that things wouldn't go that way.

"Why would you think that?" You shook your head, seeing Lottie avert her gaze to your shoulder, "Because things haven't been in our favour for a while." Her feelings were daunting to figure out, you looked up at her with sad yet hopeful eyes. "Stressing about it isn't gonna make it any better, Lot." You chuckled lightly, sensing tension brewing and wanting to avoid her mind going back into the dark place it would often wander to. She smiled in return, her eyes softening at your remark. "Hey do you remember when we would go on those road trips? you'd be so tired driving, I'd have to remind you not to crash into a tree" Lottie spoke, you saw her jaw soften and heard her laugh filling the wooden room, "And you would play shitty music just to rile me up," You added, "What?? I played it because I liked those songs (y/n), don't judge me,"

You two would often drive to seattle in your old beaten up sedan to visit your family, though you'd always make sure to turn it into a full blown camping roadtrip each time - since Washington was on the complete opposite side of New Jersey.

"You think we can go again after we're back home?" It didn't even cross your mind that Lottie thought there was chance of rescue, you were taken aback for a moment. When Lottie was with you something would alter inside of her, as if everything negative she ever believed had dissipated, you gave her hope.

"We'll go wherever you want."

She smiled a moment before her eyes looked up to yours and then down to your lips - then back to your eyes again, she kissed you and you could've sworn you felt religion in her lips; how they caressed yours with trails of grace.

-

"Are you fucking kidding me lottie?? what's gotten into you?" A riled up voice spat under lottie who had just stood there. "Nat, calm down." Shauna intervened, you walked out of the cabin, rubbing your puffy eyes as they adjusted to the light, woken by the voices after the best sleep you'd had in a while. "What's going on?" You looked towards Nat and Lottie.

"Lottie's acting like she's in The Craft or something, sort her out before she casts a spell on one of us." Natalie faced you with annoyance, your bottom lip slightly hung out - still half asleep. Everyone knew something was up with Lottie after she bashed her head into the window, it wasn't that much of a secret after all. Most were worried and you could tell, and so Natalie's reaction had you confused, you looked around to see everyone waiting for your response.

"She's been through a lot, like the rest of us. just leave her alone, Nat." You sighed, everyone went back inside - Natalie flailing her arms as you gestured for Lottie to follow you somewhere deeper into the forest. "What happened? are you okay?" You stopped amongst the woods, "Yeah, fine." she looked distressed and distant, crossing her arms, "Just ignore her, she didn't mean it," Lottie cut you off as her rushing thoughts came out,

"But what if she's right? what if I really am going crazy?"

"You're not crazy Lottie, you're just as fucked as the rest of us, nothing more." Your reassurance seemed to get through to her, your words meant the world to her and you knew it.

"You don't think there's something wrong with me?" Her face was almost pale, skin rough and almost loving eyes.

"Oh my god, of course not," you faltered into a feathery smile, "You're perfect, Lottie." You watched as her face began to regain her warm colour, softening at your words. Sometimes it felt like the world stopped around you when you were near her, you would've done anything - just to see her okay again, and she would've done anything to see you carefree and happy, just like you used to be.

She looked to the ground, laughing in relief while small tears left her eyes. "And I'm the sappy one?"

"Yeah okay, I'm not the one who wrote a love letter as an apology," She slapped your shoulder and you kept giggling like a maniac, before you were stopped dead in your tracks by Misty carrying an empty water bucket, "Are you two planning on helping?" One hand on her hip and the other holding out the bucket, "It's unfair to think you're exempt from helping when we should all be-"

"Jeez okay we'll fill it up." Lottie suppressed her laughter the best she could, running to take the bucket from an impatient Misty.

After getting back to the cabin, you settled on the living room floor with a blanket and a book. You never read books much before, however somehow it had become a routine by now.

"What're you reading?" Lottie asked, sliding down next to you.

"To the Lighthouse, Virgina Woolf. I found it in one of the drawers in the attic."

"Any good?" You never took Lottie as a reader, her interests only really came to surface when you would talk about yours, "I'll finish it and let you know." You looked at her with a smile, closing the book and resting it to the side for the time being.

-

Your mouth was filled with sickening sweetness as you chewed on the last of your food, which just happened to be the gummies your mom packed you 'for the road'.

There was no food left, and your hunger began to yearn for something else - someone else.

And her winter was cursed with your bewitchment,

the loving haze which she had caused upon you herself.

[lale-txt]

♡ taking care of them when they have a fever ➳ w/ Kid, Mihawk & Rayleigh

a/n: i… i fought Tumblr text editor so long and hard for this and it‘s still a mess oh my god. anyway enjoy those silly little headcanons, i love putting those lads into ✨situations✨

Kid

simply the worst patient you can ever imagine <3

when falling sick, he goes through the five stages of grief several times a day

denial: „i am not sick, what the fuck are you talking about“, he asks with a runny nose and face almost as bright red as his hair, beads of sweat running down his temples, barely able to stand up straight

Killer and you just exchange a look and brace yourself for what‘s coming next

anger: ever saw a tulip explode? now you will

don‘t mind the claw marks on the ground when Killer drags Kid by one leg to bed while the captain combusts and grunts out curses you‘ve never heard before

lots of shouting and yelling and middle fingers being raised with the last bit of energy he has left before you watch Killer pull out some wrestling moves to get the tulip into bed. it‘s like watching two grizzlies fight

feel free to join but be prepared to get bitten in the ass

bargaining: so Kid is in bed, blanket pulled up to his nose, breathing heavily

it‘s when it all sinks in. the realization that maybe he should have covered up those honkers when visiting that winter island. Kid was a South Blue child after all, not used to the cold

don‘t disturb him during that phase, just enjoy the silence while he ponders on every life choice he made that led him here

depression: that‘s when he will call you and the other crew members into his cabin one by one despite you telling him he‘ll just spread his germs that way, but Kid doesn‘t care. he feels like he‘s dying from that common cold and he needs to tell everyone his last words

don‘t flinch when he clutches his metal fist around your hand and rattles something about how he doesn‘t mind when you fall in love again after he dies, but preferably with Killer because then he‘ll know from heaven (or hell) that you‘re in good hands (followed by an hour long monologue on why Killer is the greatest man ever existing)

acceptance: so Kid realized he might not die today but his throat is still sore and all the yelling probably didn‘t make it any better

bring him some tea, tuck him in and kiss his forehead, he‘ll pass out in a minute and the whole thing will repeat a few more times on his way to recovery

Kid is gonna act like none of this has happened once he is back to his old self but he‘ll still make sure to pull you into a hug and mumble a Thank You against your skin, followed by making up for all the kisses he couldn‘t give you during that time

Mihawk

have you ever tried giving your pet any kind of medicine? it was bad, wasn‘t it? then good luck with this man because he is worse

it‘s hard to imagine that someone as perfect as Mihawk could fall sick with a fever, but here you are, standing with a glass of water and painkillers in your hands next to him while he‘s passed out on the couch

„get those away from me“, he mumbles like a dying peasant who is confronted with his own mortality in the face of a common cold 

even with his strength being robbed he is still much stronger than you, using this fact to his advantage (by rolling over flat on his stomach, face down, so you can‘t hold the glass of water against his lips)

give him five minutes for some frustrated groaning until he admits his defeat and finally reaches for the things in your hands

brace yourself for a silent staring duel when he asks for a glass of red wine to wash down the painkillers

he‘s lucky that you‘re in love so madly and deeply with him and have all the patience in the world to bear with him, knowing well he would pamper you too if you ever fell sick (you remembered how he pulled out a whole first aid kit as if he was ready to perform emergency surgery when you cut your finger slightly once while cooking together)

Mihawk would hate the fact that you see him in such a weak state but deep down he is still happy to have you by his side during his darkest hours

he‘ll have a few fever dreams and will be startled, probably panting something about his crops and how he gotta look after them

just gently push him back down by his shoulders and calm him down by telling him that you watered the garden and that the tomatoes are looking plump and ripe and ready for harvesting once he‘s back to full health

he‘ll ask you to read him from his favorite romance novels before he drifts back to sleep

Mihawk will cook you the fanciest dinner to show you his gratitude for nursing him back to health, including the most expensive bottle of red wine and kitchen dances together

Rayleigh

„you‘re burning up, Ray.“

you look at him worried, hands on his cheek and forehead to feel his temperature

Rayleigh just sighs, pushes his glasses up his hair, pinches the bridge of his nose and accepts his defeat

the Dark King knows that there‘s a limit on how much you can push a sick body and that the only cure is rest

after all, he had watched Roger struggle during his illness when no one else was watching; it made him realize that every action has its toll and us humans are fragile little things

he will do his best to not make you worry, after everything he‘s been through at his age a simple cold won‘t take him out

sure, he will try to send you home so he doesn‘t pass on the fever to you, but you insist on staying by his side — after all it was „in sickness and in health“ what you vowed to

a fact that earns you a lot of forehead kisses and the inevitable fate that you‘ll be down with a fever as well a few days later (where Rayleigh will take care of you as well, of course)

he is an easy patient on his best behaviour, drinking up the tea you brewed for him and staying in bed with the newspaper and some card games (since he can‘t go gambling)

Rayleigh will hum and lean deep into your touch when you run him a bath and wash his hair, your fingers massaging every bit of tension out of him

knowing you can‘t resist his charm he‘ll ask you to join him in the bath tub. just do it. the old man is needy and a little cold won‘t stop him from using his hands to return a little favor…

Rayleigh is a restless man, never one for settling down completely or staying in one place for too long, but those days in bed together are surprisingly nice and help him to recover quickly, thanks to your committed care

countless kisses on your skin show you his gratitude and blur the line between heat and fever…

[hedghost]

Hedge’s Unofficial Ratings of 2024 Adidas Kits That A Few People Asked For This Time

Let’s start strong with Germany! Did someone say kuntenserven?

Everyone’s seen this home kit and rightfully, everyone loves it. It’s just so sexy, how could you not? The crisp clean white paired with the classic adidas stripes, but with that sexy germany flag gradient? oh lord i’m weak at the knees. Naturally it’s helped by the fact that the germans have a pretty sexy colour pallete to work with, but still.Even the diamond detailing like oml. It just looks fire, literally. i love it. -9/10

The away kit meanwhile is kind of spinning my head a bit. I genuinely don’t know if i love it or hate it. in theory i love hot pink kits, but i also fucking hate the purple gradient. if the whole thing was pink i’d say absolutely yes because i genuinely love garish eyesores, but this is just not hitting the spot for me. also what’s with the pattern? this is what i imagine you would see if a hedgehog went down on you. undecided - 5.5/10

Wales’s sense of style reflects their Euros qualifications… in that i’m yet to see either

don’t get me wrong the home isn’t bad, it’s just nothing special, and nothing we haven’t seen before. i like the green and yellow stripes up the side, that’s a nice touch, but other than that i’m left feeling uninspired, which is probably how the welsh feel when they watch their men’s team play. still, i’m sure hayley ladd serves in it so - 6/10

the away kit though? yep that’s fucking ugly. whoever decided that wales should include yellow in their red and green colour scheme needs jail time, and also probably an eye test. what the fuck is that shade? yellow is very hard to make look good so props for trying, but just no. plus they missed the chance for green kits, objectively the best kit colour possible, yet also the most underused. (and don’t say it’s because it blends into the grass because that’s blatantly not true). i like the fun zigzags down the side, but it’s giving reggae, which is absolutely not the vibe that wales gives. should’ve put a big dragon on the front and called it a day - 3/10

Spain, what did I just say about ugly yellow kits?

The home kit is lovely. They didn’t feel the need to push the boat out, but why disrupt a classic? These shades go so well together, and there’s also a very faint but very nice pattern on the shirt if you look closely. its bright, it’s energetic. it’s giving fire, flames and lightning mcqueen. kachow! - 8/10

Away kit is absolutely fucking disgusting. Are adidas capable of making two nice kits for one team? If you asked me to describe the absolute worst shade of yellow i’d picture exactly that. the word that comes to mind is putrid. and as if that wasn’t enough, they decided to pair it with an absolutely clashing shade of turquoise. no thank you. no me gusta - 3/10

No Scotland No Party? Well with this kit, I’m inclined to agree.

Who would’ve thought a tartan football kit could be a good idea? Not me, and yet here comes Scotland, with an actual fucking masterpiece. This home kit is just, wow. I love it. It’s so clever, such a good nod to the country, and it just looks absolutely incredible. I fucking adore it. I don’t have much else to say other than whoever made this knew what they were doing. Good job - 10/10

The away kit meanwhile, is again, astonishingly mid. It’s fine I guess. Very plain, kind of giving the colour scheme of a cartoon character but i can’t put my finger on which one, but it’s still decent. The colours do go well together, and i like how the side panelling, includes that tartan pattern again, which as i already mentioned, is fucking sexy. just maybe stick to the home - 6/10

Hungary for more? Not really.

This is the wales kit. it is pretty much almost exactly just the wales kit. like it’s fine, but it’s just?? idk i’m bored. also why have they got two badges? greedy much? just a bit busy. idk it’s fine i have literally no other thoughts on this. boring! - 6/10

The away kit is boring as fuck too, but i actually like this one a lot. i think white kits have more license to bore. it’s a nice colour scheme too. does look a bit italian though. idk it looks good but i can’t say why. it’s just classic. the centre adidas logo looks good here. it’s the green im telling you. more green please! - 7.5/10

BELGIUM I AM KISSING YOU ON THE MOUTH

oh my god this home kit. i’m in love and i suddenly wish i was belgian. wow. holy shit. who did belgium pay to get a kit this nice? i’m in genuine awe. the sexy sexy maroon colour, paired with black and gold? fuck me sideways. i’m not joking when i say this kit oozes sex. that pattern?? oh my lord. it’s giving luxury velvet chaise longue. its giving old timey men in those smoking jackets, with a glass of whiskey and a cigar. i feel like i’m in the palace of versailles just looking at it. wow belgium, wow. - 11/10

not only that, they did it! they actually gave us two good kits! this one is based off tintin, and who doesn’t fucking love tintin? i adore it. lovely shade of blue, with this gorgeous pattern again, and the collar? collars should only be used if they add something to the kit, and boy does this add a whole fucking lot. thank you tintin you beautiful boy. what a kit. - 10/10

And now we’re back to normal programming with Italy

The common theme with adidas is boredom. At least when i was rating nike i actually had stuff to talk about. these are just okay. like yep okay it’s fine. there’s nothing wrong with it. i like the flag shoulder stripes. but yeah, it’s just there. i’ve forgotten what it looks like already i’m that bored - 6/10

the away kit is exactly the same. to be fair, i do like the asymmetric colour scheme, that’s quite nice. it’s simple, it’s clean, it’s just the italian flag really isn’t it? the collar is nice in fairness. it’s decent. - 7/10

Wow. Mexico. Holy fucking shit. Wow.

i literally am so in love with this kit that i’m lost for words. just everything about this is so stunning that i’m struggling to believe it’s a real adidas kit and not a fan made one from tiktok. this pattern has so much going on yet without being garish or busy, it just works. the colours go together so well, i’m just sat here staring at it with tears in my eyes. it’s art. i love it so much thank you mexico thank you - 11/10

and it just gets better with the away kit? this is so fucking sexy, so clean. it complements the home kit perfectly. it’s such a fun pattern but it’s also so classy, so beautiful. both of these kits invoke mexico without being either stereotypical or same-old same-old. i just love it. i love when kits are different!! more please, everyone else take notes!! - 10/10

Colombia took me a while but I’m actually a fan

i hated this at first because i thought it was just a plain boring yellow kit but then i saw those sexy ombre side panels. i just love red orange yellow colour schemes, like yes they hurt my eyes but it’s just such a sexy combination. fire for real. the yellow prevents it from getting top marks bc yellow is just fugly let’s be real, but overall it’s not bad - 7/10

now, you guys now i feel about black kits. more please!!! black is always sleek, it’s always classy, it’s always cool as fuck! big fan. this also seems abnormally shiny, which like okay serve i guess? the only thing i will say is it’s giving training kits with the orange highlights, but we can’t all be mexico, can we? - 8/10

Peru couldn’t be fucked and resorted to clip art

this home kit is like the definition of couldn’t be arsed. i could’ve done this on microsoft paint. i actually hate sash kits they’re just so fucking boring, and like, they just don’t look that good do they. boring. - 4/10

the away on the other hand? wow wow. this is what colombia wishes it was. this is a sexy fucking black kit, and pairing it with dark red and gold? oh lord yes please. sexy as fuck, plus a cheeky bit of animal print? okayyyy get it. even those little bits at the side that adidas seem obsessed with this year are sexy. it’s reminding me of a cheeky little leg slit in a cheeky little dress, and then you get a cheeky little glimpse of some cheeky little red zebra print thongs. okay word. peru you cheeky little minx, stop teasing me. - 9/10

Chile stayed solid, and you can’t go wrong with that.

these are both just nice kits. the home is classy, it’s just a simple white kit but it looks fresh as hell, and the red swoops look so good. also love that the patterning they’ve used on the red matches the away kit. it’s very simple but it’s clearly thought out and i respect that. they saw the others going ham with crazy patterns and stuck to their guns. it just looks nice. - 7/10

the away is a similar story - nothing flashy, but effortlessly nice. i rate the little pixel pattern, it’s simple but it’s nice. it’s a decent kit. could’ve pushed the boat out a tiny bit more but overall it’s fine. it’s giving national league a tiny bit. respect chile - 7/10

Finally, you can always count on Argentina to serve.

The home kit is just pure argentina innit? like there’s no way you see this kit and see anything other than argentina, and i respect that. it’s just a classic! it’s clean it’s crisp, we’ve seen it all before, but listen, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. can’t go wrong. also i’m a huge believer that gold should only be permitted on a kit if you’ve won something, and so mad respect for these sexy gold highlights.- 8/10

and the away kit? i’m a huge fan. it’s a nice simple kit, they’ve gone for a new shade of blue and it’s pretty sexy. the collar looks so fit here, i love it. what i love the most though, is how they’ve incorporated the usual kit into the swoopy bits? (that’s their official name now i’ve decided). anyway those blue and white stripes just look so yummy, very nautical, i’m a big fan. yay argentina! - 9/10

[magicalyaku]

Hello and welcome to my 2023 reading wrap up! A big Thank You to everyone who followed my ramblings throughout the year! <3 I will continue through 2024. Maybe I'll learn how to write proper reviews, at least I'll try to remember better what I actually want to say about the stories. In 2022, I read 93 books plus my own. Guess how many it were in 2023? 93 plus my own!! xD That was huge coincidence and I love it. Of these 94 books, 4 are rereads (which won't be included in the "Favourite" sections), 2 are non-fiction, 11 are non-queer. I only DNFed 1 book (which is not pictured) and other than that I only disliked 6 books! (And it's a pretty soft dislike in comparison. I don't hate them nearly enough to want to shit on them again. :'D).

So on the the awards!

Most Read Author: KJ Charles (8 books)

Least Favourite Book: Daresh (Katja Brandis) (the one I could not finish for dear life)

Favourite Character: Brand (The Tarot Sequence) and Will (The Will Darling Adventures) (yes, there's a trend)

Favourite Covers (of books I read, not releases):

(There were too many. D:)

Highest Emotional Investment (aka The Agony, the suffering, the why you do this to me Award): Dark Heir - The Scottish Boy - In Memoriam

Wildest Story: The Adventures of Pinocchio

Favourite Books:

The Devil's Luck (L.S. Baird)

The Scottish Boy (Alex de Campi)

In Memoriam (Alice Winn)

Just Lizzie (Karen Wilfried)

Dark Heir (C.S. Pacat)

The Will Darling Adventures (KJ Charles)

Gwen & Art are not in Love (Lex Croucher)

The Buried and the Bound (Rochelle Hassan)

More Books I enjoyed greatly:

Oracle of Senders series (Mere Joyce)

Of Feathers and Thorns (Kit Vincent)

Wren Martin Ruins it all (Amanda deWitt)

Simon Snow series (Rainbow Rowell)

The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley (Shaun David Hutchinson)

The Tarot Sequence (K.D. Edwards)

The First and Last Adventure of Kit Sawyer (S.E. Harmon)

Sixteen Souls (Rosie Talbot)

By any Other Name (Erin Cotter)

The High King's Golden Tongue (Megan Derr) and more!!

Most Used Name: I counted names last year and didn't want to do it again this year because I read so much fantasy, so the names were all over. Still, there was one who stood out amongst them all with at least 4 instances, if not more. Probably more.

Will

Congratulations. I have to admit, I've always liked that name. My favourite character of all times and part of my one and only OTP is named Will as well and I kinda hope the last book of their second trilogy never comes because it will probably make me scream and ... ...

Bonus! This year, I counted pages! Because I felt that most books were much shorter than what I read before. So I wanted to know. Turns out, my feeling was wrong. My 93 books had a whole of 33011 pages which results in approximately 350 pages per book. That's pretty normal I dare say.

That's it for 2023! I had a very good year in books. I wanted to read less actually, and failed spectacularly because I had too much fun. And if anyone's wondering how I read so much, I read fast and I just didn't do anything else in my free time. Escapism to the max. I hope, the new year treats you well! I hope, you have fun with the books you read! Let's meet again soon! <3

[anonymouszephyrus]

Voltron Characters Headcanons, go!

Finally, Part 3! Here's Shiro, Allura, and Coran! This is a little bit shorter, so sorry. Thank you for helping me with some of these @gilyoungroach & @hotdogcabbagesausage !

ALLURA

- Pure Pansexual (Aliens don't have labels but she loves everyone so-) - Mostly She/Her Pronouns (Genderfluid) - Allura definitely had a rebellious teen era and it's why she doesn't like Keith because he reminds her of that era and she cringes every time she remembers it. - Allura collects shiny and sparkly rocks. This is canon but still. She has a very extensive rock collection spanning from "shiny but ordinary" to "so shiny" and even all the way to "super, extra sparkly" - I don't have much to say with her actually. Niko sums it up pretty fucking well: "allura goddess case closed" - @nikogane

CORAN (Aka. Single Pringle)

- Aliens = Pansexual. Duh. NJFKAFN (he's an adventurous fellow) - He/Him (Transgendered Coran!!) - #Alforan was one-sided. Yes. He loved Alfor with all his heart. Sadly, the feeling wasn't mutual, he never confessed but knew the truth deep down. Coran was content just being there beside Alfor as his advisor though it hurt him every time he saw his first and only love being sweet with Melenor. - Despite his jealousy, he never hated Melenor or Allura. He treats Melenor like a queen, obviously, but also like a sister. And of course, he loves Allura like his own daughter. - If he was an Earthling, he would've totally done drag. And he would've slayed. - He gives me so much... Lance but a different age, different upbringing sort of vibe. Those two definitely talk deep into the night about their issues and problems, Coran would've been Lance's version of Shiro.

SHIRO (Aka. The gayest man that ever did gay.)

- Gay. Just gay. This isn't even a headcanon, it's canon. - He/Him - probably brings a first aid kit wherever he goes when he's with Keith or the others. Let's be honest. - A red wine mom/dad. He definitely chugged one in a sitting and Keith was just amazed.. (and also did it too, leading to Keith's first hang-over and Shiro being an irresponsible brother) - Chronically addicted to coffee. Has like- brewery equipment, like the shit you'd see in coffee shops but only for like half of Shiro's whole kitchen. He's got packets of different flavors, sugars, milk, etc. - He was emo. He was emo before. It's canon. He was emo. That's where Keith gets his genes /j - Contrary to popular belief, Shiro can cook. Especially Korean and Japanese foods because he learned so Keith could still taste those familiar things his late father would've given him when he was little. - Probably is a hoarder, not that much though. Like, he keeps antique cups, teapots, dishes, and even a china cabinet solely for coffee cups that he never uses but only keeps on display so that he has a good story to tell everyone that visits... and it's always the same fucking story. - Will take any and all opportunities to tease Keith about literally anything. - Adding to the last headcanon/kinda canon thing, he also likes to remind Keith of his embarrassingly cute moments like when Keith first moved into Adam and Shiro's house and had a nightmare so they all curled up on the couch and watched shitty movies and Keith fell asleep literally seconds in and slept like a fucking baby. - Gay. Just gay. This isn't even a headcanon, it's canon. - He/Him - probably brings a first aid kit wherever he goes when he's with Keith or the others. Let's be honest. - A red wine mom/dad. He definitely chugged one in a sitting and Keith was just amazed.. (and also did it too, leading to Keith's first hang-over and Shiro being an irresponsible brother) - Chronically addicted to coffee. Has like- brewery equipment, like the shit you'd see in coffee shops but only for like half of Shiro's whole kitchen. He's got packets of different flavors, sugars, milk, etc. - He was emo. He was emo before. It's canon. He was emo. That's where Keith gets his genes /j - Contrary to popular belief, Shiro can cook. Especially Korean and Japanese foods because he learned so Keith could still taste those familiar things his late father would've given him when he was little. - Probably is a hoarder, not that much though. Like, he keeps antique cups, teapots, dishes, and even a china cabinet solely for coffee cups that he never uses but only keeps on display so that he has a good story to tell everyone that visits... and it's always the same fucking story. - Will take any and all opportunities to tease Keith about literally anything. - Adding to the last headcanon/kinda canon thing, he also likes to remind Keith of his embarrassingly cute moments like when Keith first moved into Adam and Shiro's house and had a nightmare so they all curled up on the couch and watched shitty movies and Keith fell asleep literally seconds in and slept like a fucking baby.

PART: 1 & 2

[fallenclan]

A Ravenshade Fic

By Dragon Anon

She swept through the star-filled meadows in a blaze, her fury uncontainable. 

She seethed. She wailed. She wept. 

She had seen her father for the first time in moons, and he had looked at her with such pride, yet in her heart she felt no joy. Only bitterness, only hate.

So she stormed on; let all the stars know her fury. She hissed spiteful words she knew that he would not hear: "Everyone you love will betray you, everything you touch shall fall to ruin, and you will spend your eternity in the dark."

Underneath her fury, she also felt fear. Fear for her kin, for her friends, for her clan. 

She could not sit idle.

...

Nightgleam had been avoiding him. She knew something, Ravenshade was sure of it. He just didn't know what. Tsk. 

Bristleheart and Feathersight had both grown distant as well, troubled. 

Problems. So many of them. Ravenshade would pick through this puzzle like any other, finding out what each of them knew. Feathersight had obviously begun to rethink his omen. Perhaps he had even received a second one. A warning. 

Ravenshade wasn't quite sure how Nightgleam and Bristleheart fit into the equation, but he would find out, one way or another.

He only hoped Shrewscratch remained oblivious. Ravenshade would hate to deprive his brother of a friend. 

Ravenshade could feel Nightgleam's wide, searching gaze on him now. She was wedged in-between Mistlefrost and Snailpetal, who were bickering and laughing back and forth without a care in the world. When Ravenshade met Nightgleam's gaze, she looked away.

His gaze narrowed. He looked at his paws. He hummed softly. 

At the very least, he was becoming quite skilled at dealing with problems.

...

"I'm going to find the rogues that killed her and kill them too," Ramstep hissed, voice breaking slightly. "It isn't right! She didn't deserve..." 

"I know. I'm sorry," Ospreyswipe murmured. "I think... I think maybe you should talk with Feathersight."

"Why?" Ramstep replied. Wolfpaw's ears pricked. She knew eavesdropping on her mentor was wrong, but she was doing it anyway. He had been acting different ever since his aunt died. 

"Just... trust me."

"Fine."

As the voices trailed off, Wolfpaw quickly scrambled out of the way, ducking further into her hiding spot. The two toms, mercifully, didn't notice her.

When she was sure they were gone, she crept out into the open. She felt a sudden surge of frustration. She wanted to go with Ramstep and hunt down those rogues. It wasn't fair. He kept treating her like she was a kit. 

Sighing, Wolfpaw decided to begin the trek back to camp, careful not to follow too closely to the warriors up ahead. 

She was determined to help. They just had to let her. 

-🐉

(some little snippets, hehehe. wanted to play around with nightgleam's clairvoyance. anyway, very excited to see what other trouble ravenshade gets up to canonically...)

Beetle note:

OOH i love the inclusion of Nightgleam's clairvoyance thats so epic... your fics are always such a treat, dragon <3

[myymi]

if im not too late with the drabbles;

tails has a really bad nightmare about westside (parent abandonment or another traumatic incident) and he goes to his big bro sonic for some emotional support and cuddles

feel free to ignore this if they arent open :)

word count-1369

ao3

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

He’s tired of running.

He’s tired of being chased.

But he doesn’t want to get hurt, so he keeps running despite how out of breath he was.

That is, until a figure steps out in front of him, causing him to skid to a stop.

Their head was a blurry mess, which he assumes is because of the tears in his eyes.

Somewhere in his mind he knows the real reason, but he doesn’t get much chance to think on it when more blurry figures surround him.

The forest scenery he’d been running through started morphing into other things. The village, the beach, other clearings around the island, until everything went black.

Everything but those damn figures.

They approached him, causing him to shrink down. He couldn’t do anything. They were blocking any chance of running, and everyone knows he’s far too weak to fight back.

His breathing quickened even more as he curled into him, biting down sobs as he prayed to some God out there to protect him despite knowing nobody would do anything for him.

He was a deformed freak. Why would someone save him?

One of the figures grabbed him, and then everything disappeared.

He was trapped in an endless void as voices bounced around the air, insults worse than anything you could think of thrown at him from every angle.

He just had to take it.

Covering his ears did nothing to drown it out.

A few voices were more prominent than the others. He recognized them.

How could he not, when they were laughing about how much better their life was now that he was no longer a part of it?

The voices eventually merged into one, the sentence being repeated over and over.

It started as some random one he’d heard years ago, then morphed into those of his ex-family’s. His older brother, mother, hell even his father despite the fact he hadn’t heard his voice since he was one year old.

It didn’t stop changing.

It eventually morphed into his new family.

First, Shadow.

Next, Rouge.

Vector, Cream, Silver, Espio, Charmy.

Amy then Knuckles. Until, finally..

It was Sonic.

“Why would anyone want a freak like you in their family?”

–

Tails’ eyes shot open, breathing uneven and he felt his fur sticking to his skin in the most uncomfortable ways possible due to all the sweat.

His quick breaths slowed as he looked around, recognizing his bedroom.

He was fine.

No one was chasing him.

With a groan, the fox pushed himself into a sitting position. He brought a hand up to rub at his eyes, pausing when he felt the trail of tears on his muzzle.

He swallowed dryly, suddenly feeling very dehydrated. He glanced at his digital clock as he pulled his blanket off to the side, not caring about neatening it. He had to wash it and his sheets anyway because of all the sweat.

3:37 AM.

Tails wiped away his tears as he exited his room, socked feet taking careful steps on instinct to avoid all the creaky planks.

He hated the noise they made. He really needed to fix it.

The kit used the wall for support as he descended down the stairs. He took a deep breath as he made his way to the kitchen.

He stopped in the living room.

Sonic was on his couch, sprawled out in a way that could not be comfortable in any way. Drool spilled from the corner of the hedgehog’s mouth, snores louder than most of the fox’s machinery filled the air.

Tails wanted to roll his eyes at the scene. It wasn’t unusual for Sonic to crash at his place unexpectedly–he did have a key–but did he always have to use the couch? He had a bedroom of his own for this specific reason.

But the fox’s breath felt caught in his throat at the sight of the older, his nightmare flooding his brain full force.

“Why would anyone want a freak like you in their family?”

His ears pressed against his head as new tears piled in the corner of his eyes. He swiped at them, but more immediately took their place.

His breathing started picking up pace and, before he knew it, he was in front of Sonic, his ungloved paw hovering above the hedgehog’s shoulder.

He forced his body to freeze, biting his inner cheek.

Tails is 8 years old now. He shouldn’t be running to his big brother because of a bad dream. He’s old enough to deal with these on his own.

But no matter how hard his mind begs his body to leave the teen be, it’s a losing battle.

His hand makes contact with the hedgehog’s shoulder, shaking it as softly as he can to tell the other he’s not a threat.

“Why would anyone want a freak like you in their family?”

With a grunt, Sonic’s eyes slowly opened as he looked up to see who woke him. Tails immediately regrets it, the teen looks exhausted.

That exhaustion seemed to disappear when Sonic saw the tears welled up in the younger’s eyes.

“You okay?” His voice was groggy, still catching up to the rest of his body being awake. The little fox shook his head as the teen sat up.

“C’mere, kid.” Sonic gave him a sympathetic smile as he opened his arms, inviting the kit to lay on him. Tears finally spilled over as Tails crawled into his hero’s arms.

Sonic shushed the younger, his left hand petting the kit’s head as his right held him close. The kid buried his head into the older’s neck, hiding his tears.

“D’ya have a bad dream, bud?” The teen asked quietly, his head leaning against the fox’s as he gently rocked them.Tails’ head bobbed ever so slightly, hands gripping the hedgehog with a strength you wouldn’t expect an eight year old to possess.

Sonic hummed, letting the kit know he heard him as he continued the slow rocks and gentle pets. He kept it up until the sobs quieted, the death grip on his back easing as the younger pulled away.

The hedgehog frowned at the sight of his brother’s face. It was obvious he had been crying even before waking the teen up, his eyes were too red and his fur was a complete mess.

“Wanna talk?” The older asked, using the hand that was petting the fox to wipe away his tears.

“I-It–” Tails shook his head and leaned into the touch, “It was just.. Bad memories. Westside.” The kit tried not to talk too much, his throat feeling scratchy. He needed some water, but he didn’t want to get up.

“Again?” Sonic frowned. The fox had been having a lot of nightmares about Westside recently.

“I-I know, I’m sorry.” The boy bit his lip, suddenly thinking that this was a terrible idea.

“No, don’t apologize, li’l bro. Not your fault.” The teen pulled the younger into another hug, feeling how much he was shaking.

“Still. I-It’s childish to run to you every time.” Tails grumbled, but he didn’t pull away from the hug. He cuddled into his hero, his namesakes providing them warmth as they curled around.

“Nothin’ wrong with being childish. Or needing help.” Sonic shook his head. He had to break the kit free from that thought process, but he just couldn’t figure out how to do it.

The fox didn’t respond, just closed his eyes as he worked on evening out his breath.

The teen hummed as he moved to lay back down, pulling the cover over the two of them without releasing his hold on his little brother.

“Get some sleep, buddy.” Sonic whispered as he scratched the spot behind Tails’ ears to help ease him. “We can deal with it in the morning.”

The fox nodded as he shifted slightly to be more comfortable, mumbling a quiet goodnight to the older.

The hug paired with the gentle petting made it easy for the kid to fall asleep. He was out within a few seconds.

Sonic sighed, pressing his forehead against the younger’s.

He just wishes there was something he could do to make the nightmares leave his little brother alone.

[fourlittleocto]

i'm really bad at headcanons in general so i'm sorry if these are not good, but thank you for the ask! also with midterms i've been super busy so i hope everyone can keep being patient with me, i promise i am working on asks it just might be another week <3

starting with some cute ones (thank you @pyrefection)

dew loves to rub soft stuff on his face. if the closest soft thing happens to be a person, so be it. he doesn't want them to touch him, just let him hold their hand and rub it over his face. this always somehow turns into their fingers in his mouth, since they're softer and nicer than his

with that thought, even though he doesn't need to teethe he still wants to stick everything in his mouth, just to see what it's like. some sort of instinct. however his fear of getting in trouble trumps this need, which means he'll spend way longer than most cgs have patience for crawling over to objects that look good, holding them up, and then pouting when he's told no, he can't put that in his mouth until it either has to be pried out of his weirdly strong grip or mountain (because let's be honest he thinks this is adorable and is the only one who actually tolerates it) gives in and let's him put it in his mouth "but just once dewbug!" it's better that he's doing this when someone's watching anyway, and then he'll never need to try again

dew loves to draw and hates coloring. he doesn't like that he can't control his hands enough to keep it in the lines, especially since little rain is a little ocd and always gives him judgemental stares when they color together. he loves to draw though, and even though they're usually just colorful squiggles aurora (his new favorite caregiver) has taught him how to draw some shapes and to associate certain colors with certain emotions, so he feels like he can communicate when he's drawing and it's really relaxing to his troubled brain

i also love moonbeam's hc that tiny dew loves to clap. it's a movement that's easy, and it's small and loud just like he is, and he knows how to clap sarcastically to get a laugh. whenever anyone in the pack does something stupid he claps and giggles, and it sends aurora into a laughing fit every time.

i put some stuff about dew's childhood/regression under the cut cause it's a little heavy/sad so feel free to skip it

just as background, i think dew goes really small, like usually he can't walk or talk but sometimes he can get as big as 3, where he's toddling, but even then he can't talk cause as a child his parents refused to talk to him so he didn't learn to until he was interacting with other kits. It's part of why now he's really slow at reading and gets frustrated when he has to describe something cause words just don't come easily to him. it's also the reason that when he's tiny he likes to hide, he doesn't want anyone to see him so vulnerable so they can't use it against him. (however, this has made him incredible at hide and seek. one of the older littles or aurora will hold him and follow where he points and they always win)

he also can't drop on purpose, it's entirely trauma/stimuli-based. i definitely think it's something that started for him after the elemental change, but no one except mountain knew about it until aurora was summoned. She mothered him about his attitude while he was big enough times that one night, while in the middle of a bad flashback, he babbled something just coherent enough for mountain to know he was asking for her, so now they trade off taking care of him and know who he needs based on what happened/what kind of mood he's in (it's always bad, but sometimes it's MUCH WORSE than others, and aurora has to take him when he's specifically having elemental change flashbacks cause mountain still has too much attachment to the events and they trigger flashbacks for him too)

either way, since aurora has joined the pack she's helped dew not feel so scared about being small, to the point where even if he can't be with a group of adults, he's able to sit with her and watch little rain and phantom and cumulus play. she's also slowly teaching him to do things that 1 to 2-year-olds are supposed to be able to do, and it's helped him feel like he has a lot of control over it even if he still can't control the action of his mind dropping.

[sucker4sixx]

Raising hell

Pt.3

PLOT: you and the crüe need to preform a set together and for nikki.. it doesnt go as planned..

WARNINGS: public embarrassment

You spend the rest of your Sunday complaining about having to preform with the crüe, your managers call both bands to a rehearsal studio to practice what you will do, mick, the guitarist for mötley is very vocal about how short notice this is and how it wont end well, some of your band mates agree but mick just glares at them when they speak up, not wanting to deal with their “shit”. Nikki doesnt even steal glances of you or try to avoid you, as if nothing happened and it makes you feel incredibly awkward.

After practicing how you will enter the stage and the set list and running it through you all agree you know what your doing, not wanting to spend a second more with eachother. Your band head back and offer for you to go out but you just wanted to go back to the hotel and sulk in your hungover state.

Later that night, round about 11:27 you get a knock at your door, you get up and open it to a drunk nikki, hes breathing heavily and swaying alittle. “Nikki? What are you doing here?” He rolls his eyes “im good thanks.. here” he passes you your bottle opener you left in his hotel room the night before. “Sorry for making things awkward and uncomfortable but.. you get where i was coming from yeah?”

“Yeah.. lets just.. forget about it okay?” You both nod and fall silent. “Why dont you come in? We dont need to do anything-“ he cuts you off “no.. i better get back to my bed” you give a small smile “okay.. night night Nikki” he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek, “night night sweetheart” he makes his way back to his own hotel room and you close the door, your cheeks going red.

The next day your bands need to be in extra early, the set up on the stage was crazy, two drum kits, two basses, two guitars and two singers.. hectic. Your band would play your songs while the other band would walk around stage, having to act like they would punch you in a second and the same the other way around.

Nikkis in a shit mood, incredibly stressed and taking it out on everyone, you accidentally trip up over his foot during rehearsals and he growls “clumsy bitch!” He spits, you get up and try to square up even though he was almost a whole foot taller. “Hey! Its not my fault you have big clown feet!” He smirks “you know what they say about big feet right?” Your blood runs hot at his smugness “yeah.. must be why your a huge dick!”

Show time comes and you and nikki are 10 arguments in, the bands strut onto stage and the crowd is louder than youve ever heard, crüe start and you stalk around stage, nikki was your assigned target so you walk around him, narrowing your eyes as he leans into you, his faces inches away from yours as he glares at you with genuine hate. Back and fourth and back and fourth till the last song, its your band playing the last one and you decide to really humiliate nikki.

“So.. for this song i decided to give you all a treat and nikki a big surprise. Someone bring me out a chair!” Everyone looks around in confusion but nikki drops his bass and gets a chair just for himself, stalking towards you “sit.” You order him like a dog and he sits just behind you “good boy!” Once again, treating him like a dog. “Start the mother fucking song”

The song starts and its a sexy riff, you sing along and slowly lower yourself onto nikkis lap, his hands snake around to your hips as you sing, hes surprised but knows he needs to keep his cool. You give him a lap dance as you sing, the crowd (mainly the women) going crazy. Nikkis grip tightens painfully into your squishy hips as he feels himself getting hard. A solo starts and you turn off the mic, nikkis mouth moving to your ear. “Im going to fucking kill you” he growls “why? Because you have a boner? I can feel it.. right here” you grind right into his erection and he hides his face in your neck as he lets out a whimper.

When you start to sing again you turn around so your backs facing the audience but your facing nikki, his eyes staring into your soul as you belt out the last lyrics, standing up as the crowd scream, nikki not sure how to get around hiding his boner, he decides to be proud of it and stands up, its painfully obvious but its the last thing on his mind right now as he thinks of ways to sabotage and embarrass you.

When you all get off stage your manager nods and smiles, glad you done what you did for publicity reasons. You head for the bar but nikki grabs your wrist and slams you against the wall “you cunt! You completely embarrassed me!” He shouts “not my fault y-“

“No it is your fault! The whole crowd practically saw my dick!” he shouts in your face “then dont wear tight leather pants!” He lets go of you and steps back “you know, im tired of trying to get on your good books and seeing where it takes me, your so fucking difficult” you step forward “well you should’ve been such a dick this morning-“

“I was stressed! Of course im going to be a dick, i was so fucking stressed out!” He cuts you off once more “your fucking impossible, you know that? Theres not one good thing i can say about you right now” he shakes his head and leaves..

[perpetual-fandom-brainrot]

Temporary Relocation Ch. 3

Read the previous chapter here MASTERLIST Basic premise: You've been on TF141's base during recovery from an experimental surgery, and you've made friends with Gaz and Soap since arriving. You have some concerns that you bring to Price.

In the past few weeks, you'd learned firsthand why it was so important for you to stay on a military base. Sitting down, laying down, leaning against walls, even just hopping over small obstacles you would totally pick up later caused small jolts of pain to shoot up your spine. Lately you'd been trying to expand your range of movement to get your new appendages used to existing. If this was hell, you didn't want to know what actual training would feel like. So most of your free time was spent wandering the base.

Today in particular while you were walking around, you noticed Gaz was missing from the base. You decided you'd ask Soap about it the next time you saw him, which was in the gym, that he knew you weren't supposed to be in.

"Ay, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be resting." He crossed his arms as he stood in your path, blocking your way to the equipment. "Those new instincts of yours won't do us much good if ya aren't properly healed up."

"Actually, I was looking for you," you hoped it wasn't obvious how nervous you were getting caught by Soap, since he was the type to report this if he felt actual concern, "I've been walking around all day and I can't find Gaz."

"He was instructed to join the Captain; they're looking for assets that are supposed to be ours. Can't tell you any more, sorry kit."

"Kit?" You echoed.

"Y'know, like a Kit-ty Cat? Because of the ears and tail?" MacTavish had a playful tone, and as he spoke he made flicking noises at his own head, where cat ears would be if HE had them instead. The combination had you laughing.

"You look ridiculous doing that," you commented. "And, that nickname had better not stick. Find something a little... pun-nier?" You gave a cheeky smile and slipped into the hallway as Soap gave a snort at your joke. And bumped right into Ghost.

You weren't sure what was up with that guy, but you could tell he hated you the most out of everyone on base. His eyes boring through your gaze and what you could swear was into your soul made it glaringly obvious.

"Sorry," you finally got the courage to mumble, the lieutenant simultaneously shoving past you. It almost hurt, in some roundabout way, that someone who is supposed to protect your life on the battlefield had so little approval towards you. It wasn't a feeling you found relevant, but you knew it would fester into anxiety without some form of comfort.

So your mind drifted to Soap, who, despite having to say goodbye for a mission at one point for a few days, you had grown to be nearly best friends with. You knew Soap cared enough to protect you, and you knew you cared enough to protect him. Hell, even if Ghost needed saving, he was still your teammate. You'd help him too, even though you thought it'd just piss him off.

With a sigh, you redirected your path to the debriefing room, which was kept completely empty when no one was using it. You didn't have to worry about bumping into angry lieutenants or avoiding hearing information above your paygrade in there. The quiet was welcome, sun barely streaming in through the blackout blinds, and you found a seat against the wall between some filing cabinets. No one would even see you if they were to come in here. It was nice. For the first time in weeks, something was nice.

You leaned your head back against the wall, closing your eyes, and let a small smile grace you. This is so nice... you thought.

The next thing you knew, you woke up when the lights turned on and boots thumped in. At first, you thought you would have to find a way out, then voices spoke. Soap's and Ghost's.

"L.t, what the hell's been goin on?" Soap asked with a tone of irritation unfamiliar to you.

"I have no idea what you mean, Soap. We're in the middle of a fucking recovery mission we can't identify the start to, our primary target is in a country no one thinks he'll be in, and now terrorists and the cartel have decided to sit in a circle making friendship bracelets. Who do you think they'll send to handle that, Soap?" Ghost's words reminded you of something he would have yelled, but instead there was a waver underneath the barking tone. It seemed you weren't the only one who noticed it, either.

"Simon, they'll send us because we can handle it." The sergeant said firmly. "Now, let's go, Laswell will probably be back with more information soon." You weren't sure how or why, but even with as little as John was saying, it was enough to convince Ghost. Their footfalls started and faded just as suddenly as they'd come in here. You waited a moment, and when you figured you were safe, treaded in the opposite direction from them.

You had no idea Ghost was actually that worried about all of this. You knew he was somewhat worried, anyone would be, but that was the most you'd ever heard it. You figured Soap was his direct second-in-command on the field a lot of the time, so Soap would need to know what is lieutenant might be liable to respond like under active fire.

Later that day, Soap met up with you to let you know Laswell had given him more information that meant he would most likely be scheduled for departure soon. He mentioned that the whole force was having dinner together tonight, the first opportunity they would have in awhile now that Price and Gaz were apparently returning soon, and invited you to join them as their official new member- even though you couldn't be on the field yet. You happily accepted, momentarily forgetting about Ghost's utter hatred for you.

It was when you sat down at the dinner table in the canteen when you finally remembered. Ghost's glare thoroughly reminded you of it, though you'd only noticed out of your peripheral. When you actually took a glance around the table, he was already visually focusing on something else.

Everyone else was engaged in what sounded like riveting, but separate, conversation. Ghost and Price were discussing something quietly, Soap and Gaz were engaged in a conversation about which species of cat was the cutest, and a blond boy you had never seen before was just... sitting there. You made eye contact with him for a solid two seconds, felt awkward, and looked away when you couldn't seem to find words.

"So, y/n, it's been a little bit yeah? How are you getting used to your new ears?" Gaz piped up when conversation between the rest of the group dulled. All eyes turned to you. You smiled nervously, but kindly.

"Pretty well! The ears don't hurt as much anymore, it's my tail that's really bothering me. Since it's supposed to help me enhance my center of gravity they connected the nerves to my spine. Everything my tail feels, it travels upwards and gets more intense. I'm still getting used to standing up and sitting down."

"Can you move it yet?" Soap asked. You shook your head.

"No, the doctors did tell me that one might take awhile, but they said as long as I heal and train properly my tail should be able to help me naturally when it comes to balance." To excuse yourself from having to talk more, you took a large bite of food. The conversation took another pivot.

"So, how did y'all come to..." the blond started, gesturing to you, "this, anyway?" He looked around as he finished his question. You met Price's gaze and nodded, signaling he could tell... whoever this was, about your situation.

"Well, Graves, Y/n here is a soldier who was selected to participate in some medical research testing that's going to help our soldiers on the battlefield. They're going to temporarily be on the task force with us while they heal and train. We're going to spend that time gathering data, and if we determine the results good enough, test out their abilities on actual missions." Price finished, and Graves looked back at you. You had, unfortunately, swallowed your bite of food already.

"Seems like we'll get to fight on the battlefield, kitten." Graves winked at you. It was very unpleasant.

"Please don't call me kitten," you stated before continuing to eat. The rest of the table seemed to find it as a good point to change topics again. Everyone split back into their own conversations until the end of dinner. Once all plates were cleared and returned to the canteen, the leftover food was stored, and everyone returned to their quarters- except you. You made your way to Price's office and gingerly knocked on the door.

"Come in." Price said simply. You did. "Ah, l/n, what do you need?"

"I was, kind of worried? About the force's interest in me," you admitted. "I find it so nice that they aren't assuming anything about me based on my cat features, but... they're not going to stop wanting to talk to me, or anything, after the curiosity wears off, will they?" You asked. Price chuckled softly at the nervousness in your tone.

"Y/n, the last thing any of my boys do is lose interest in a teammate. They'll warm up to you beyond your medical adventures, and you'll be one of them before you know it." You nodded, bidding Price good night.

"Good luck," you called on the way out. "I hear there might be another mission soon." You added when Price looked confused. "Soap told me you have to hunt something of yours down, said he couldn't say more," you continued. A look of recognition crossed his face before he smiled softly.

"Of course, y/n, thank you."

Surely enough, the next morning you found out that there was a departure scheduled in a few days. This one was just going to be Price and Gaz, you didn't know much, but you knew they had to meet Laswell somewhere. You hoped nothing got too nasty, but in your heart you remembered this was still special ops. They could handle it, you convinced yourself, as you anxiously awaited their departure.

[kai-anderson-whore]

Hi! Could you write an angst where Kit takes the punishment for reader in the asylum similar to that scene with grace inside Sister Jude's office?

Please and thank you <3

Yes of course so I decided to go off from the scene and write from there hope you enjoy <3

I’d take the brunt of it (kit walker x reader)

Summary: you planned to escape the asylum with Lana but she didn’t want kit to tag along so she snitched on you both.

Warnings: angst, punishment, caned, asylum, mentions of divorce, escaping the asylum, shouting. Let me know if I have missed anything

Word count: 1,1k

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•.

You spent almost every moment of your day sat on an old chair in the common room watching everyone studying them, but all you could see was how different they were to you. They were insane or have severe mental health issues that means they can be within the public. You weren't supposed to be in here only because your now ex husband placed you in here before he had divorced you.

You hated it here. You felt like you were beginning to go insane with everything staring at the same faces the same rooms, same mistreatment and that song on repeat for four years. You were sick and tired until he came along. Kit Walker everyone knew him as bloody face the horrendous man that killed those women including his own wife.

But to you he was just Kit, the sweet caring person that never showed any killer signs. You knew from the moment you laid eyes on him he was innocent. That's how you became friends. You taught him everything he needed to know to survive this god forsaken hellhole. Another thing you taught him was that you couldn't escape.

But kit was determined to escape this place if it even means he goes out here dead. You knew there was no way out everyone knew until you both met Lana winters. You became friendly with her she promised a way out for you both but you didn't want to leave without kit.

"No he's not coming with us for Christ sake he's a god damn murder" Lana seethed through her teeth in a hushed yet harsh tone. "I'm not leaving without him Lana he's innocent I know he is" you sighed sticking up for kit. "How do you know what are you both together or something because he wouldn't be in here if he wasn't" Lana snapped at you rolling the dough with the rolling pin.

"So what if we are, plus your in here through blackmail I'm in here because my ex husband put me in here so I don't get his money from the divorce guess we are all in here for the wrong reasons" you proved a point your hands aching from needing the dough. "I said no and that's final" Lana stated ending this conversation.

But you waited till the time had come to escape the asylum. Something was happening within the asylum everyone's attention was somewhere else you grabbed kit's hand running for the doors "what are you doing bringing him y/n" the anger in lana's voice didn't bother you, your target only being getting through those doors into freedom.

"He's coming lana if you like it or not" you said dragging kit rushing to those doors. "HELP HE'S ESCAPING, THE KILLER IS ESCAPING HELP ME" Lana screamed. You and kit turned back trying to get Lana to stop but before you knew it two guards pinned you both to the ground. You felt the defeated you were so close yet so far from the freedom you deserved.

Everything was a blur to you. You couldn't remember what happened after that all you remember was being dragged to sister Jude's office by the guards kit behind you. "Well, well, well look who it is the escape artists" sister Jude tutted with a wicked smirk on her face. You hung your head low fearful for the punishment you both would receive.

You heard the door open you turned your head to see Lana there with a guilty look on her face. "You snitch you know we both don't deserve to be here why Lana" you yelled in anger. Your blood boiled even looking at her as she just stared at her feet in guilt. Kit just watched you kicking off till sister Jude stopped you. "Stop this y/n" she warned.

You and kit's bodies leaned against the cold wood, scrunching your eyes shut awaiting for the horrifying punishment you will receive. Your hospital gown exposing you from the back you heard sister Jude thanking Lana for her honesty. "Now as a reward I want you to pick what cane to use" you heard footsteps from behind. Turning your head to see sister Jude opening the cabinet revealing the selection of canes one more taunting than the other.

Lana picked out a thin cane holding it up to sister Jude for somewhat of an approval which she only sniggers at. "Your too kind Lana banana" she says picking a much thicker one making her way to you. "Twenty each that seem fair enough" sister Jude calls out you felt the cold wood against the back of your thighs just as she pulled the cane away, your eyes scrunched shut holding your breath waiting on the punishment.

"Wait sister Jude y/n had nothing to do with it she didn't want to leave I dragged her I should be the one getting punished not her" kit spoke up standing straight your eyes shot wide open. "Very well then that means 40 for you mr walker but miss y/l/n you watch as a reminder if you ever step out of line" sister Jude stated waving the cane around.

You slowly got up making your way to stand by Lana the fear still filled within your eyes. Sister Jude raised her cane to kit smacking the wood on the backs of his knees. You saw the pain in his eyes but he never cried out in pain, but his face didn’t fail to show how much pain he was in. The tears falling down your cheeks you wished it was you receiving the punishment instead of him.

With each smack you flinched, the sound of the cane smacking off his skin seemed to get louder and louder till all 40 hits were completed. His skin red raw almost bleeding “take them to the common room” sister Jude dismissed all of you getting took back to the common room. The same song still played you stayed close to kit helping him to sit down.

“AHHH” kit practically screamed as he sat on the chair. “Slowly kit” you said helping him out the tears still falling down your face, kit saw you crying not even caring if he’s in pain. “Hey are you okay” he asked wiping your tears with the pads of his thumb. You shook your head sniffling “no I’m so sorry kit you shouldn’t have taken the blame for me it was all me yet you got the brunt of it all, I feel so guilty” you sobbed lightly.

“I wouldn’t want you getting caned I’d gladly do it again if it means you won’t get hurt” kit smiled trying to make you feel better. “We were so close” you whispered resting your head on his shoulder. “We’ll get out here one day I promise” kit whispered back taking your hand in his. “I hope so”.