#this week off has literally just been me trying to regain energies and then fucking up my sleep schedule and having to somehow fix it

[ex-king-sombra]

This is gonna be a long post, so a tl;dr will be on the bottom, in bold.

My interest in this didn't even wane, I've been daydreaming about it semi-frequently.

Issue is: My mom's chronically ill, and up until tomorrow, I have been her only reliable caretaker around! For a while, her issues were worsening, leaving me much too drained to do artwork. By the end of last week, I had her promise to go to the hospital, because she'd been having nonstop seizures.

She has non-epileptic seizures, and one of the main triggers is stress, and it turns out her body had been freaking the fuck out, because she has a pulmonary embolism (don't worry, it's a small clot that'll clear with blood-thinners,) and pneumonia (her oxygen levels are fine.)

Anyway, it's been very much obviously, and she's finally going to my cousin's house to finish up paperwork and other things she's gotta do in a less stressful place.

There's also gonna be a lot of "figuring things out", because needless to say, I'm not exactly equipped to handle this sort of thing. These past few months have been more taxing than usual.

UHHH my point is, though, things are finally looking up! I have a lot of motivation for this blog, but I was too fatigued to draw almost anything at all. I barely managed to force myself to finish a singular comic page for a comic I literally pay for a domain name over.

SO! Hopefully, now that I have time to actually have an uninterrupted break without setbacks (assuming nothing suddenly changes tomorrow,) I will finally, FINALLY, FINALLY get back to updating this blog! I've really been wanting to.

tl;dr: I made a post saying I was regaining interest, and I've maintained that interest, but my mom's medical issues (as well as me being her only responsible caretaker,) left me too drained to draw for a while. Hopefully, now that we're trying to fix these issues, I can work up the energy to actually do things. Thanks for your patience, and not just writing the blog off as "dead"!

[shslpunkartist99]

Hiiiiii

What a... fuckin' year

It's a doozy, so.. y'know the drill

So I've been more quiet as the year slowly drew to a close. The holidays have become a stressful time for me now. It used to only be because of work (work is always hectic for the holidays), but after moving out a couple of states away from my og home, it got more stressful trying to visit family. My manager didn't help with it either, literally delaying in approving my time off, so I had to go broke buying expensive plane tickets. Had to work a shit ton, both to make as much money as I could AND because it was the standard (we're an entertainment place for all ages, so yeah. Hella busy).

The holidays themselves were.. not the best. You guys know I don't talk much, and the few friends I have know that I'm not a social person (I feel constantly guilty about that). I would be perfectly content sitting at the edge of the table with friends while they chatted away. Hell, I'd be content not talking to anyone for over a month.

This ends up including my family, unfortunately. I know family is important and I need to keep in touch with them, but it's difficult. Both of our lives are extremely boring and mundane: we work, we rest at home, we eat, that's all. None of us go out to travel. None of us do any exciting activities. It's the same day everyday.

I bring this up because my silence has gotten people close to me to believe that I don't care about them. I don't keep in touch, therefore I don't care. I "only think about myself", so I'm selfish. I "don't think about other people", so I'm a careless person.

So that, uh... fucked me up.

We made the most of it, them claiming they don't want the holiday ruined (even though I was already defeated day 1 out of 4), so it ended.. ok? But it still sucked. Especially since I ended up getting sick. Medicine only made it worse because haha, why would it WANT to help? (Had me puking after taking it. Hadn't puked in years). I'm still sick now (haven't had time to properly recover because I had to work to make up for lost time, and my job wouldn't have me go back to work until I got a doctor's note, and that's just added stress I didn't want to deal with), but at least I have today and tomorrow to rest up.

Now that the holidays are done and over with, things should go back to how they SHOULD be: answering you guys' asks more often, putting up more frequent content and ideas, actually keeping in touch with friends.. the good stuff. Work should slow down to a much easier pace after this week (starting this week tbh, the next "big" event isn't until the end of this month), so I should be able to manage my time and energy properly.

I'm not gonna make any big deal about resolutions or anything like that, but I do want to try and get a writing piece done every week or something. Whether based on an existing idea or something random. I want to get the flow going again. Art shouldn't be an issue. Streaming will still be random.

The main thing is also to socialize again. Kim, Shades, I missed you guys. Kinda left ya on read, and I know you guys are super understanding and stuff, but it feels very unfair that you guys do a lot for me, and I don't do anything back. I'm gonna regain focus and energy to properly return the favor. I'm gonna try to keep the same energy with my family too. As shitty as that visit went, they're all I got, and they're all going through issues as well. So if me messaging them a "Hey, how are you?" sparks some joy in them, then I'll do that. At least for my bro, who I feel has been going through the most. He deserves better.

I still got some recovery to do. Not just with the sick or the mental, but also taking care of my home and better habits. Haven't been cleaning or cooking lately because of depression, and it's starting to show. I need to fix that up. But I'm just relieved the year is over, and I don't have to worry as much about work or spending lots of money or traveling or any other shit going on. I can finally (hopefully) relax..

If it's seen as selfish to take care of myself.. tbh? I'm defeated. I don't care anymore. I'm barely holding myself together with cheap tape. But with things easing up, it should be better. Should be easier.

I might still be a lil quiet here still until at least the sick is gone, but I might do lil stuff here and there. Probably have the Punks take over a lil for fun. I've been thinking about them a lot, as well as the comfort characters Keith, Leroy, and Naomi (I've actually been having multiple dreams with her, which made me really happy. I'll talk about them one day. She's so cool).

You guys have made for a great year tbh. Helping me develop ideas and being interested in my silly gay characters and aus. Idk how many of you are here (or still here), but I wouldn't have a happy corner without you guys. Thank you so much. I hope you guys had a great holiday, had a good enough year, and will continue to have fun times for the current future.

♤♡◇♧Bloop♧◇♡♤

[tinyyoungblood]

hi!! adore your work love. could you maybe do smth where stark!reader has to get her wisdom teeth out but HATES the dentist so she brings her boyf peter and her dad w her?? and then when they get home the avengers are all waiting with like comical amounts of flowers and stuffed animals and then reader says some funny shiii and thor thinks she’s like dying lol. idk if that made sense but i’m getting my wisdom teeth out soon and i’m scared😭 thank u so so much love u babe

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

a/n: tysm lovely :,) i rushed through this like my life depended on it, but i hope i’m not too late. either way, i hope you’re okay! it’s frightening but those bad boys gotta go because we don’t need that kind of energy in our lives. enjoy x

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

wisdom teeth? more like wisdoom

y/n has to get her wisdom teeth removed and it’s the singular most dreadful thing she’s ever had to do, which says a lot because her dad is tony richling stark

doing dreadful things she doesn’t want to do but still somehow end up doing just because she can is a personality trait at this point

no one really makes a big deal out of it since ~death~ is part of their job description, but y/n is terrified

and when a stark is terrified the only thing that will keep them one step from insanity is researching the hell out of it

that information will be info dumped into every conversation for the next few weeks leading up to the appointment

“y/n you need anything from the store?” "no thanks, did you know the side effects of getting your wisdom teeth out include ✨sudden death or blood clots✨ tho” “……..i have a coupon?”

the day of the appointment, peter comes along and literally doesn’t let go of y/n’s hand. he keeps touching her to let her know that he’s there and it’s so. adorable

he would rest his hand on her knee, gently stroke her back while holding her, or just play with her hair

happy drops them off and he’s too Cool™ for emotions but he knows y/n’s a wreck, so he just fist bumps her with a single nod and she almost breaks down bc it’s really affectionate

y/n is sitting in the dentist chair and genuinely nothing is happening yet, but she’s squeezing peter’s hand like it’s a sponge

peter might have a high pain tolerance but he’s in pain pain and he prays that his hand won’t just explode on him

the dentist notices how peter tries to keep it together and chuckles

“you okay there, son?” “yea it’s fine, had a better time when a building fell on me tho haha” “pardon?” “oh i mean i didn’t have a good time, i just had a better time”

because y/n is running Anxious Town™, the dentist gives her a sedative to help her relax 

plus, an injection of local anaesthetic to numb the tooth and surrounding area

she doesn’t feel anything and it’s GREAT

the procedure is quicker than expected and now the real fun begins

she tries to walk but she falls down so peter scoops her up bridal style and happy stays glued at her side

y/n doesn’t mind although she literally doesn’t recognise them and they’re practically strangers to her

but girly sees an opportunity and tries to flirt with peter bc why wouldn’t she

“you’re pretty” *blushes* “why thanks” “you should let your girlfriend know” “i should let her know i’m pretty?” “so you do have a gf? :(” “yea it’s you” “:)”

they stop for gas and peter goes in to get some water for y/n, and in her infinite wisdom, she decides it’s burger time

her mouth is completely numb and she’s practically leaving a trail of drool behind her, but she’d kill for a burger right now

so she wobbles around aimlessly for an hour on some random parking lot as if the ground might just magically open up like a rabbit hole and lead her to five guys

she’s going places. not back to the car. definitely not five guys. they’re closed. but places

peter finally finds her and he’s drenched from head to toe in sweat. he doEsn’T wAnt tO tALk abOut iT tho so she lets him take her to subway instead

normally, she would know that peter’s usual subway order is bread-lettuce-jalapeño

but in her drugged-up state, it had simply slipped her mind so now she’s staring at him like he’d just murdered someone right in front of her

“that- that’s your order?? no meat or anything just bread, lettuce, and a little spice?”

meanwhile at the compound, sam and steve are ordering everyone around bc they want to decorate this place before y/n gets home to surprise her

they take it very seriously too. they’ve watched like one HGTV show and said it’s our time

they finally get home and tony gives y/n a big hug, asking her what took so long

happy tells him that she was keen on getting burgers bc apparently someone has taught her that stressful times call for ~cheeseburgers~

he proceeds to look at tony with a pointed look

tony just shrugs and goes “she was a problem child. we don’t mention her dark past”

she’s swaying on the spot and keeps grinning like a fool and thor just stares at her weirdly before elbowing bruce and whispering loudly,

“what’s wrong with her? is she dying? should i start collecting leaves, i know this remedy—"

no one can tell if y/n is just happy to see the newly decorated home or if she’s just delighted to see everyone but then she goes around hugging the entire team

she doesn’t even acknowledge the sky-high pile of teddy bears and flowers everywhere bc she’s just squeezing everybody

y/n is so high, she just starts to spill all of her feelings about everyone and they’re already so overwhelmed by the hug chain they can’t take this too

“wanda i just want you to know that you’re like my big sister and you’re always taking care of me and i know you and vision are just going to make such good parents one day”

“bucky you absolute PRICK, you FIEND, you’re the best chess player ever and that’ll never change and i wouldn’t be good without you, i hate to say it but you deserve happiness even after you made me lose five times in a row yesterday”

“dad, you’re so strong and smart, even though we’re like never on the same page, you’re always along for the ride, i want to be like you when i grow up, i swear i’m gonna try to be as good to the avengers as you were to us” “aww- wait makes you think i'll be the first to die“

“nat you’re such a bitch about your protein shakes but you’re my best friend and i wouldn’t have it any other way, you can try out as many make up looks on me as you want”

“bruce, brucey, i would live with you in your lab for the rest of my days if i had to, whenever you ask me to hand you stuff i feel useful and important”

“laura’s way out of your league clint i have no idea how the fuck you got her but don’t lose her and i want to be your next child’s godmother”

“steve…we’re your family now. we’re always gonna be your family now. okay?”

“loki you’re not fooling anyone with your attitude, we all know you’re part of the family, you were just misunderstood and messed up bc of your dad–FUCK him by the way–but i realised everyone deserves as many chances as they need because of you”

“sam i would genuinely kill anyone who wronged you, even if they cut you in line at the grocery store, i would knife them no hesitation”

“thor, you poor golden retriever have been through so much, on my way here i made a wish on an eyelash for you bc you deserve better, your postcards always make my day, love you”

she mumbles something to peter that no one else can hear but he blushes and chokes back a sob

y/n orders hot soup and bucky brings it to her but before he even has time to react peter drops everything and ZOOMS across the room in .3 seconds

he barrels into bucky so hard they both go flying, but peter just smoothly rolls out of it and onto his feet like some kind of super ninja

“DUDE WHAT THE HELL” “😠 y/n is not supposed to drink hot liquids 😠”

all of this happens in mere seconds but sam has filmed it all and now slow mo clips go viral online of some mysterious kid knocking over the winter soldier

y/n’s a little in and out after that, but when she fully regains consciousness, she’s on a pile of blankets, surrounded by the team on the floor <3

* * *

let me know if this is actually comforting lmao stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

[miyacreampie]

Lenny sensei's class has begun!~♡

“Good boy~♡”

synopsis 💭;; Teru sucking his boyfriend off because he's a desperate puppy

note 🖋️;; Broski, I love Terushima. Idgaf what you say. He is the literal definition of ‘I'll swallow your entire next generation’. Again- ignore any mistakes ajzbsjzbajzanjsns just be horny absbsknsk

Male pronouns used

“Teru, stop it. Mmh~..I'm all sweaty..” (Y/n) uttered softly, a bit out of breath from the run he went on not long ago, and Terushima's heated kissing. He attempted to push his boyfriend away, but ended up pulling him closer. “Stop..I'm tired.”

Yuuji sighed softly. “Damn, can I get some dick once in a while, (Y/n)?” He pouted, giving (Y/n) the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster. (Y'know, like this- 🥺) “Please? I've been such a good boy lately..isn't it only fair I get a reward?”

(Y/n) gave Terushima a questioning look, but he wasn't lying. Yuuji had taken care of the house and ran most of the errands during the week. He even made dinner on some occasions.

“I'd be fucking you stupid if I had the energy.”

A bit frustrated with his boyfriend's answer, Teru's eyebrow twitches involuntarily. He knew he couldn't make himself feel as good as (Y/n) does when he fucks him. “Can I suck you off at least?!” He asked, the desperation clear in his voice.

Knowing Yuuji would just pester him about it until he got what he wanted, (Y/n) gave in. “Fine. Just let me sit down.” The (h/c) haired man said as he went to the couch and flopped down on it, making the pillows bounce a little. He spread his legs a bit, and Yuuji got on his knees between them.

The blonde's cock throbbed in his shorts as (Y/n)'s musky scent filled his nose. It was so intoxicating to him. He let out a breath that he didn't even know he had been holding, as he pulled out (Y/n)'s semi-hard cock. (Y/n) flinched a little from the cool air suddenly hitting his dick.

“I waited a whole fucking week for this.” Yuuji mewled as his hand pumped (Y/n)'s cock at a fast pace, pulling soft groans from the man above. Once again, Teru's cock twitched. “Heh..does it feel good, daddy?~”

This time, (Y/n)'s cock was the one that twitched.

“Mhm..” (Y/n) looked down at Yuuji. “You gonna be a good boy and suck daddy's dick?” He ran his fingers through Terushima's hair, smirking as the smaller male's breath came out shorter and more shaky.

“Yes~” Teru licked the shaft once before being stopped. He whined.

“No, no, no, *Zasshu-chan~..what do you say before a meal?”

Teru gasped softly. How could he forget? “I'm sorry daddy! I wasn't thinking straight!” he put both hands together as if he were praying, and let his head down a bit. “..I..Itadakimasu~” After he lifted his head, he wasted no time trying to choke down (Y/n)'s massive length.

(Y/n) rubbed Yuuji's head. “You wanted it that bad?” The only response he got was a muffled moan from the man below him. (Y/n) let out a growl-like moan as he felt Yuuji's tongue piercing rub against his cock as the blonde deepthroated him.

‘He tastes like how he smells.. Jesus- I swear this'll make me cu–’ Terushima didn't realize how sloppy he was getting with his tongue until (Y/n) moaned his name– or rather his nickname.

“Z..Zasshu-chan~..shit~”

Yuuji felt his hair being pulled as (Y/n) stood up from where he sat. He pulled away from his boyfriend's cock, looking slightly confused. ‘Holy shit- did I do something wro–’

“Open up and say ‘ahh’..” (Y/n) said, as he looked down at Yuuji with the most sultry look in his eyes.

Being the obedient puppy he was, Terushima opened his mouth, letting his tongue hang out. “..a-ahh…” He wasn't given a chance to properly breathe before (Y/n)'s cock pushed its way into his mouth. Not even three seconds after, (Y/n) put both his hands on either sides of the other's head and began ramming his cock in and out of Terushima's mouth.

Teru gripped (Y/n)'s hips, looking up at the said man who returned his lustful gaze. Every time (Y/n) hit that one spot in his throat, he felt himself nearing his climax. But he wanted to cum when (Y/n) did because that's what a good boy does. (Even though his boner was starting to get a little painful)

Luckily he wouldn't have to wait long for (Y/n) to cum, and he could tell by how much his master's cock twitched in his throat. The twitching made Yuuji gag a little. Yuuji's tongue danced around the underside of (Y/n)'s shaft in a desperate attempt to make the (h/c) haired man cum.

And that he did. The only warning Teru got was (Y/n) shoving his dick as far as he could down Terushima's throat before spraying it with his semen. Once Terushima's throat and mouth were at their full capacity, and (Y/n) finally pulled out, cum was spilling out of his now violated and utterly destroyed cakehole.

He knew better than to swallow before being told to, so he held the cum in his mouth, his jaw now feeling a bit numb. His eyes fluttered shut, the tears that welled up in his eyes finally falling down his face.

“Good. Now swallow. All of it.”

Yuuji did as he was told, swallowing the thick liquid he had been holding in his mouth. When he finished, he let out a shaky breath. Finally regaining his ability to think, Teru noticed the wetness in his shorts. He pulled his shorts and boxers outwards to look.

(Y/n) chuckled, looking into Yuuji's cum stained underwear. “Looks like Zasshu-chan made a mess~..” He pats the blonde on the head and smiles. “You've been such a boy for me, so I'll let it slide.”

The praise made Yuuji blush. (Y/n) told him he was a good boy. It made him feel so happy.

“Thank you, daddy.”

He's such a good little puppy, isn't he? 😩 We love Teru and his piercing. 💖 Thanks for reading. ♡

*Zasshu or ‘ 雑種 ’ means ‘mutt’.

The class session is now over!~♡

[theshelbyclan]

Family Secrets

Summary: Polly finally lets slip what the real Shelby curse is and as the youngest Shelby, with a little encouragement from John, you feel obligated to use it to your own advantage

(Gif by @mistress-gif​) A/N: I wrote this one when I couldn’t sleep, a long time ago, fuelled by my own frustration of being picked on as the youngest. This has been a headcanon of mine for ages and I finally put it to paper. I never had any intention of posting it, but because I’ve reached the 500 followers mark, I decided to share. It’s short, fluffy and a lot lighter than the actual series. Enjoy!

Words: 3220

*** 

“Give me the fucking book, John!” you bellowed through the kitchen. Your aunt was adamant that you’d all eat together, one day a week, on Sunday. These dinners were great and important, but they always ended in chaos. Tommy usually left early to get on with work, so he was never part of the sibling banter that ensued.

You had just finished eating and while Aunt Polly was busy clearing the dishes, you thought you could read a little. How wrong you were.

Holding the book out of your reach, the most annoying brother in the world was grinning broadly at you. “I will punch you in the fucking throat…” you threatened. This only made John laugh harder and he threw the book over your head towards Arthur who caught it nimbly. “How about me, little sister,” Arthur said playfully, “Are you going to cut me?” With a sigh you turned around and made another failed attempt at grabbing the book. Arthur threw the book back at John and a little game had started that you had no energy for. Still, you wanted that fucking book. “Forget the book, Y/N,” Ada commented from behind her own book, “Let them have their fun.”

But you were too stubborn for your own good, “I’ll be damned if I let them win…” which gave rise to more laughter from your brothers. So you grabbed the nearest tea towel and threw it in Arthur’s face. Before he could remove it, you pounced and actually felt the book beneath your fingers now. Polly paused her work and watched the scene with interest, partially because it was sweet, in a very Shelby manner, and partially because she wanted to put a stop to it before her kitchen got destroyed. You were so close, but Arthur grabbed you around your waist and managed to get the book back to John. Now you were well and truly stuck. “Right, what now?” he teased in a low voice. “Get the fuck off!” you screamed, when John walked over to you and dangled the book in front of you. Stretching out your arms as much as you could, you could almost reach it. But John, evil as he was, used his other hand to tickle your ribs and you immediately crumpled down in Arthur’s arms. The second brother soon joined in and now you were being attacked by two pairs of hands. You dissolved in a mess of giggles within seconds and there was nothing you could do. Sliding down onto the floor, with very little hope of rescue from your sister or aunt, you were at their mercy completely. And then, like some miracle, Ada intervened. She grabbed John by the collar and pulled him back. You gasped for breath as soon as you could. “She’s had enough, John,” Ada said sternly, “Back off, or you’re next.” Arthur looked down on you with a huge grin on his face, “Ada, we both know she can take much more than that…” “Noo!” you whined and without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you rolled away on your stomach across the kitchen until you bumped into your aunt. “Should’ve punched him in the throat,” she said softly to you. “Don’t be a baby!” John called out, “It’s your own fault.” “How the fuck is it my fault?” you replied indignantly from the floor. “For being so fucking sensitive,” John grinned. Arthur joined in, “That’s right. Just turn it off.” You rolled your eyes almost audibly. 

John scoffed and pushed Ada away, “You’re fourteen now, Y/N. Time to learn.”

Polly turned around swiftly, “Oh, like you ever did!”

“What?” your head shot up.

Ada looked at you with a smirk, “What, you thought you were the only one?”

As you got to your feet, Polly helped you up and said meaningfully, “That’s the real family curse, sweetheart.”

Years of them pinning you down and teasing you bubbled up in frustration, “Are you saying that I’ve been going through torture for all these years, thinking that it was just me, when all this time…”

Arthur shrugged, “You’re the youngest and smallest. Comes with the territory.” 

“Besides, we’re stronger,” John added smugly. He was right of course, which made it all the more annoying.

Polly threw down the washing cloth and theatrically said, “Welcome to the Shelby family, feared by all in Birmingham and where everyone is ticklish as fuck!” Your entire worldview had been altered in seconds. Apparently this wasn’t news to your siblings, because they all looked completely unimpressed by this bit of information, while you stood there with your mouth hanging open in surprise. After thinking about all of this for a while, you asked, “Even Tommy?” “When we were kids we used to make fun of him,” John recalled with a glint in his eyes, “It’s just his ribs, but if you poke him suddenly, he literally jumps.” “He went absolutely feral,” Arthur nodded. An idea was taking shape in your head, “Would that still work, you think?” “You’ll only get yourself killed,” Ada commented in her usual bored tone of voice. “Do it!” John urged, “Come Ada, you know she’ll get away with it.” You and John had always been the most mischievous in the family and you shared a look with a similar twinkle in your eyes. You finally knew something Tommy didn’t know. This was your one chance to catch Thomas Shelby by surprise. ***

For the next couple of days, you tried to get your brother alone. It was strange, because on the one hand you couldn’t wait to try out your plan. Envisioning how he would react was brilliant already, but the feeling of power you had was even greater. However, you also feared his reaction. Thomas Shelby was a busy man and he had very little time for anyone these days. When he did spend time with you, it was short and it often involved him reprimanding you. In all honesty, you were a little scared of him, but not scared enough to let a prank like this one go to waste. You’d deal with the consequences, whatever they were.

John might’ve been even more excited than you were and whenever Tommy left to go somewhere on his own, he motioned you frantically to follow him. Finding the right time proved almost impossible though. So you decided just to get on with it. This was the day you would find out if your brother shared the family curse. Unfortunately, he’d been in a bad mood all day. He’d called a family meeting at breakfast and had left quickly after that. They’d all reconvene in the evening. Dodging all your other responsibilities, you shadowed Tommy for most of the day, but he had one business meeting after the other. His mood was getting darker and darker, and you began to wonder if you were actually suicidal. But then, unexpectedly, you found yourself alone with him outside. “Y/N,” he said strictly, “Tell me what’s going on.” You’d come outside for some peace, because today was one of the busiest days at the shop and you’d had enough of the noise. Outside, you planned on reading your book and you’d forgotten about Tommy for a minute. Until he had appeared suddenly. “Nothing,” you said, looking up.

“Then why have you been following me all day, eh?” He sounded annoyed almost and all courage left you.

Improvising quickly, you said, “Missed you at dinner last Sunday.” “I was there,” he lit a cigarette and sat down next to you on the stone steps.

“For five whole minutes…”

“There was business to attend to.” “And there’s family to attend to as well,” you replied, without missing a beat. Silently, he side-eyed you and a small smirk played around his lips, “You’re right, I’ll do better next week. Am I forgiven?” “No,” you feigned anger. He turned his head towards you and he smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

The bond you had with Tommy was a complicated one. In many ways you were very similar, but the war had changed him the most. Sometimes you felt like you’d lost him completely, when you thought of how you used to talk and laugh with him when you were younger. These moments were so rare now. And these exact thoughts did the trick and you decided that you had to be the one to make that old Tommy come back, if only a little. So you said a silent prayer, decided not to overthink it and poked him in the ribs once. The effect was immediate. Thomas Shelby shot up and nearly rocketed himself off the steps. With a wild look of betrayal he turned his eyes on you and you almost burst out laughing.   “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” you asked innocently.

He cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and sat back down. Apparently, we’re pretending this never happened, you thought. 

A few seconds of awkward silence later, you poked him again. This time, a small yelp escaped him. The most feared gangster in Birmingham yelped, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing any longer. 

As you were still trying to regain composure, Tommy pointed at you with a menacing finger, “Do that again and you will not live to tell the fucking tale.” You could only snort in reply. He was trying so hard to act all scary and while that had an effect on most people, you just couldn’t be bothered right now: It was too funny. Besides, you thought you could detect just a hint of mirth behind those pale blue eyes and decided to risk everything on just that.

“I mean it, Y/N,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows, “Do it again, I fucking dare you, and see what happens.” So you did it again. 

In a flash, he was up and dove for you. But you were faster and jumped out of the way. Like the two of you were a part of a bad play, you started circling each other around the small yard. Neither said a word and seconds felt like hours. Then Arthur called from inside the house, “Tom!”

“You called a family meeting,” you reminded him, while relaxing a little at the prospect of escape.

Tommy’s eyes stayed on you and he cleared his throat again, “Fuck, alright. You’re coming with me.” And he lifted you up and threw you over one shoulder. Your shrieks filled the house as he walked through the betting den, over to the table where the family was already gathered, with you still on his shoulder. Without blinking, the leader of the Peaky Blinders announced, “Right, well you’re all here. Let’s talk business quickly…” Aunt Polly pointed vaguely at your arse, which was sticking up in the air, “You do realise you have my niece in your arms?” “Well aware, Poll,” Tommy continued, like it was the most normal thing in the world, “Business! We’ve done well this week. John’s shown me the books and we’re making more money than ever. Next week, we’re buying a new horse and I’m going to race her.” Flabbergasted, the family stared at Tommy. You could see the million questions on their faces, but they decided to wait until he was done talking. You had also refrained from protesting by now. “Poll, as treasurer I need your permission to buy the horse.” She blinked a few times and mumbled, “Buy the horse. Y/N‘s still…” Tommy held up a hand, “Not finished,” and everyone closed their mouths again, “John, I need you to talk to that old widow down the road. She’s recently lost her son and she should become part of our fund. Arthur, for fucks sake, get the books from the Garrison in order.” “It’s those bloody numbers, Tom…” Arthur grumbled in reply. “Are we all clear on what to do?” Tommy finished off in a hurry. When no one replied, he answered for them, “Good!” With this he plucked you down from his shoulder and held you in his arms bridal style. With a grave and business-like tone he announced, “As you all know, this is Y/N Shelby, youngest member of the family. While we were away in France, she kept the fort and she has often provided us with some relief in times of stress ever since we’ve come back. But not anymore.” John started to get nervous and looked from you to Tommy. Had they gone too far this time? But then he saw Arthur grinning and even Ada had a small smile on her face, so he knew Tommy was only playing. “Gentlemen,” Tommy continued, “This is the day that Y/N Shelby dies. Say goodbye to your sister.”

And that’s when you decided not to await your fate, so you made a sudden movement and jumped out of Tommy’s arms. Dashing past the table, you sought refuge behind Polly’s back. 

“Told you this would happen, Y/N,” Ada said, not helping at all.

For some reason, Polly got up and left the room, while stating triumphantly, “The secret’s out, Thomas. Deal with it.” Now you just had an empty chair for protection. Tommy pointed at you directly and practically growled, “And it’s going back in.” With three of the largest steps he was at your side once again.

So you held up your hands, “Okay, wait, I can explain.”

“Too late, little sister,” Tommy said in a low voice, “These are family secrets that are not spoken of.”

“You’re such a drama queen, Tommy,” your sister commented, while getting up to leave. And all you could think was: why would you leave me alone with these mad bastards?

You really should’ve known better but decided to go for the cocky approach, “There’s no point in trying to scare me now, Tommy, knowing what I know.” You raised your eyebrows in an attempt to show him you were still in control. You weren’t. In a flash he’d tackled you to the floor and had you pinned down, while whispering ominously, “You picked the wrong brother to fuck with, Y/N Shelby.”

And for the second time in a week, you cursed your own sensitive skin as dexterous hands attacked your sides. Incapable of little but laughing and screaming, you flailed around hopelessly. Tommy’s face was slowly softening into a smile as well.

“Tommy!” you pleaded between giggles, “It was John, not me!” “Was it now?” he taunted without stilling his fingers, “And who was the fool to listen to his ideas, eh?” He moved up to your ribs, which made the pitch of your laughter increase. “Toohoohoom! Wait!”

Now, it was no secret that your major weakness in life was your sensitivity. Usually it was John who took the most advantage of it, being the mad joker that he was, but he often got Finn or Arthur to join in. Arthur on his own could be absolutely brutal, which was due to his strength as well, so there was no hope for you at all. Ada didn’t bother much, but when she did, she was merciless, much like Polly. But Tommy, he was a whole other story. You didn’t have many moments like this with him anymore, but when he did play and did get his hands on you, it was hell. He knew exactly how to reduce you to a small heap of giggles, pleading for your life and regretting all life choices up to that point. And this was happening right now. His smile was widening and he shook his head, “You thought you could beat me, eh?” “Yeheeeheees,” you admitted. Then he stopped for a second, allowing you to breathe, “Alright, you little devil, I’ll give you one a chance to speak.”

Residual giggles were pouring from your mouth, “Never… listen… to… John.” Tommy looked up at his younger brother who was showing zero remorse on his face, and he nodded slowly, “Good. What else?” “I’ve learned that Thomas Shelby sounds like a girl when…” but you never got to finish that sentence, as he continued his assault.

“Wrong answer. And you are way to ticklish to have an attitude like that, Y/N,” he said calmly. 

As he dragged your arms up and dug his hands under your arms, you squeezed your eyes shut, “NOOOO, I’M SOOHOORYYY!” “Are you?” he asked, now smiling broadly at your reaction, “Then tell me what you’ve fucking learned from this, eh?” “YOU DON’T FUCK WITH THE PEAKY BLINDERS!” you managed to shout out between laughs. “That’s right,” Arthur commented, watching the scene while sitting back in his chair, “Finally, she gets it.” Tommy paused and looked at both of his brothers, as if he was waiting for their verdict. “Nah,” John decided to cause more trouble, “I don’t think she has…” Still struggling unsuccessfully to get out of Tommy’s grasp, you shouted, “John, shut your fucking mouth or I swear to God…” Tommy rolled his eyes and interrupted you, “Get her, boys,” he called out, “Let’s teach our sister some respect for her brothers.” So now there were three brothers trying to keep you in place, while you were being tickled from all sides. Why did you listen to John? Why did you not know better than to challenge Tommy? Spluttering, kicking and fighting like crazy, you managed to kick them a little bit at least, but the fact that they were all grinning down on you still meant that it didn’t help much. 

Tears leaking out of your eyes, you shrieked, “YOOOUAAHAHAH AHAHAHALL SUAHAHACK!”

Then Tommy stopped them and crossed his arms in front of him. The amusement was twinkling in his eyes, “Had enough?” “Yep,” you said quickly, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Whatever Polly has told you,” he widened his eyes and brought his face close to yours, “Family secrets are not spoken of.” “Fine!” you called out, “They’re not spoken of.” His smile grew again, “Remember this, Y/N. And remember this was nothing compared to what we can do and what I will do, if you ever feel the need to cross Thomas fucking Shelby again.” You got up, again, and brushed yourself off while sending a death-stare to each of your brothers. But when Tommy smiled at you, there was a certain warmth to it that you hadn’t seen in ages.

“Wankers…” you mumbled carefully. Tommy smirked slightly, “You brought this upon yourself, Y/N. Now you know what happens…” “…when you fuck with the Peaky Blinders. Bladibladibla…” you finished his sentence. Making your way to the door, you turned back for a moment, “To be fair, Tommy, I did just saw you jump up about a foot because you’re actually fucking ticklish. So much for the whole gangster act, I should say.” Tommy’s eyes narrowed, John burst out laughing and Arthur managed to shout out a quick “Oi!” And before anyone could react, you sprinted away. Somehow, this still felt like a victory. Sure, you were the youngest and probably the most sensitive in the family, but you had discovered your own weapon now. John would be next, just for setting you up. Arthur would involve more planning. But finding Tommy’s weakness, that was the real triumph. Behind you, you could hear Tommy sit down and sigh, “Well, boys, we’re well and truly fucked now…”

And you grinned to yourself. The game was on.

***

Masterlist

[yandere-society]

Scream

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Synopsis: It’s been a year since your mother was slaughtered, with no leads pointing to any possible suspects. It’s been an up-hill battle for you to accept what happened— especially with no answers or closure— and the citizens of your hometown have been sleeping with one eye open ever since. But now, the mystery killer has decided to make an anniversary visit, and is making it known that they not only have a dire love for infamous horror films... but they also have their targets set on you and all of your closest friends.

Word count: 8k

Headline: Small Town Woodsbroro Is Waking Up Screaming Once Again!

Warnings: dark themes; Gore; Smut; Crackhead humor (only because I promised my bff I’d give her an honorable death scene); Foul language; Jungkook is psychotic; Graphic depictions of him killing your mom/friends; we’re also going to pretend that it’s outrageously easy to get away with murder; dont fact check me on anything you read here; rough sex; mask kink. 

Admin: @tatertotthethot​

Baley was high as a fucking kite.

 So high, that she didn’t care about it being 1am as she blasted the Cha-Cha slide at full volume. 

  So high, that she was completely disregarding her lactose intolerance whilst making herself a triple layered, sharp cheddar grilled cheese that was bound to have her ass blasting right back off by 3am. 

  So, outrageously stoned, that she was totally unaware of the masked killer standing just outside the glass doors in her kitchen, watching her every move.. With her beat up, hogtied boyfriend laying out next to him. 

  “Now it’s time to fawnky! To the right now—“ 

  She crab walked along with the instructions, spatula in hand. 

  “To the left!”

  “Take it back now, y’all.” 

  Ghostface grimaced beneath his mask, eyes stalking the stoned woman with disdain. She was  the epitome of “crackhead energy” and it pissed him off how much she resembles you. It only makes sense, being as you two have been best friends since kindergarten— probably soulmates in a past life— but it is within that fact that Ghostface has grown to absolutely fucking loath her. 

  She’s too much like you. She keeps up with your humor and probably has more of your heart than he, himself, has earned a place in yet. He knows good and well that if it ever came down to you having to pick between him and her, you’ll pick her. 

  That simply will not do. That’s exactly why he is about to rid you of that option— or, as he sees it, the dilemma. 

He growled and  swung at the air, wishing he could just bust in and end her already.

  “How could you be in love with that creature?” He hissed at Taehyung, the built-in voice box beneath his mask altering it enough to remain anonymous. The question was quite hypocritical, being as he was in love with a girl that most would consider Baley’s second-half, but only you were an exception to being so.. abnormal.

  “Mmmph—“ Taehyung drearily gurgled out from beneath the strip of tape over his mouth, tears breaching his eyes as he watched Baley’s precious, uncoordinated ass do the “Charlie brown”. It looked more like a fucked up gallop.

  “What is the sex like, dude?” Ghostface ripped the duck tape off Taehyung’s split lips. “That’s a serious question.”

 “Boo bear..” was all Taehyung could muster up, more scared for her than himself.

  Ghostface gagged and slapped the tape right back on with a little too much force, having to take a second to regain his composure before pressing the call button on Taehyung’s phone. The Spotify music thankfully cut off as her phone rang out from the counter.

  Baley was only upset for a split before she spotted the name on her phone screen, and was quick to answer it with a sickening amount of glee.

  “Angel muffin!” She cooed. Gross

  “Hi, boo bear..” Ghostface flipped his middle finger up at Taehyung before clutching his Bowie knife back down to his side. 

  “Oh my God, What was that? You sound like Corpse, mixed with the bear from Five Nights At Freddy’s.” 

  “The bears name is Freddy, dumbass.” 

  Baley neck rolled back in offense.

  “Are you trying to get pegged or prolapsed? Might wanna remember who the fuck you’re talking to, the next time you call this cellular.” She snapped, hanging the phone up with a viscous pout. She still somehow managed to pick back up on the beat and cha-cha’d real smooth as she took the pot off the eye and turned the stove off, visibly upset.

  Ghostface stood there for a moment, processing what she just said, before turning towards Taehyung. 

“She claps your cheeks?” 

  Taehyung glared back at the screaming-ghost mask, bracing himself when a gloved hand reached out to once again rip the ductape off his lips. 

  “It’s not sus!” He immediately defended. “I have a gspot up there for a reason. I am not ashamed to use it.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about that!” The killer snapped out. “why would you let that.. unstable individual insert something into your rectum—“ 

  “You’ve got a whole lotta nerve calling somebody else unstable,” Taehyung deadpanned, and with that, his mouth was once again resealed shut. 

  He called Baley’s phone again, just as she was about to take a bite of the sandwhich that she’ll, unfortunately, never get to eat. 

  “What, fucker?” She scorned.

  “I can see you.” 

  “Oh, yeah?” She sarcastically spat. “Then what am I doing?” 

  She clenched her buttcheeks in and hunched her back out, her body resembling a question mark, before vigorously gyrating her body- mostly just her spine. Jungkook knows from the various tiktoks you’ve shown him that he was witnessing the inverted-twerk. 

  “Hm? Tell me, fuckboy. What am I doing?”

  ��Something a fucking cockroach does after I spray Raid on it. How the fuck do you clench your buttcheeks like that?” 

  Baley halted in mid thrust, surprised but not exactly fearful (yet) as she whizzed around to face the sliding glass doors that led into her back yard. It was pitch black outside, and all she could see was her own reflection starring back at her. She was also too high to care about the fact that she had the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and the strings pulled all the way out, which  only exposed the center of her face in a squished circle. 

  “I use my glutes. You know that. Why haven’t you come in?” She asked, not superstitious but a lil-stitious. 

  “This isn’t Taehyung.”

  “Okay, Isn’t Taehyung. Why haven’t you come in?” 

  “Because I want you to come out here.” The killer responded, grinning at the visible unease finally creeping into the girls stance.

  “Okay, babe— I hate to be a bummer here, but considering that today is the one-year anniversary of Ms. (L/N)’s murder, this isn’t very Cash Money of you. Can you please just come in and.. stop?”

  He let out a chuckle, a dark one. 

  “Boo bear?”

  “What, Isn’t Taehyung?”

  “Turn on the outside lights.“

Ghostface put the speaker on the phone and sat it on the ground as he crouched over Taehyung, pulling him to sit up straight. He watched as Baley apprehensively padded over to the light switch by the door. He could practically feel her heart beating in-sync with Taehyung’s racing one as he placed the knife to his neck, smiling beneath his disguise.

  The lights flickered on, and she screamed, terror finally bringing the seriousness out in the situation. 

  “HANG UP OR MOVE A MUSCLE AND HE DIES!” The killer roared, knowing she was still too high for her survival instincts to kick in. Any sober, sane individual would’ve probably caught on to the fact that they were gonna die no matter what she did. What was just making it easier for himself, knowing her dumbass was gonna comply.

  “W-What do you want me to do?” 

  See?

  “Be a good girl, and come here.” 

  “Quit trying to seduce me, you sick son of a bitch. My boyfriend’s literally right there!” She croaked out, voice shrill with exasperation. 

  The killer plunged the knife into Taehyung’s arm, making him jolt to life with a pain-filled howl. Baley began sobbing out, apologizing profusely. 

  “Your boyfriends going to get gutted like a fish if I have to repeat myself. Drop the phone and come here.” Ghostface seethed, wrenching the knife back out on the last word.

   Baley reluctantly— and stupidly—  did as told. She let the phone fall from her hand, then jumped out of her skin as the Bluetooth reconnected in the house and started playing WAP. She tried not to sing along despite the situation as she padded over, shaky hands rising to cover her mouth.

“N-Now what?” She asked. 

  “I just figured your last words should be said face-to-face. Is there anything you two would like to say to each other?” He asked, that being the only generosity he’d be willing to spare as he ripped the tape away from Tae’s mouth, one last time. 

Baley dropped to her knees, so much despair in her eyes. So many things she wanted to say. She recollected herself and caught her breath in just enough time to utter final goodbye: “I-I-I said certified freak..” 

  Tae’s eyes closed as a single tear escaped, nodding his head in understanding. “Seven days a week...” 

  “GAH!” The killer roared out, wrenching  Taehyung’s head back to slice his throat before shoving him away and lunging  at Baley. 

  She landed on her back with him on top, and he wasted no time as he began slashing her apart, in any way he possibly could. He let all the pent up rage and annoyance he felt towards her, out on her body. It was worse than the brutality he inflicted on to your mother this time last year. He’d only stabbed her a total of 19 times— one for every year she failed you as a mother. With Baley, he didn’t stop tearing into her until WAP ended. And damn, did it feel good. He finally felt like he’d purged his soul clean.

  This may all seem reckless, but Jungkook was actually just lucky. In order to mask his true motive behind all this, he had to find another one to cover it with. It was simply convenient that Baley’s father is the town mayor, and after a little digging, he made the grand discovery that he was also having a secret affair with (Y/N)’s mother. In fact, the mayor had several mistresses throughout the town. 

  Jungk—er, Ghostface.. chopped off one of Baley’s fingers and slid the glass door shut, writing the same words on it that he wrote on your mother’s bathroom mirror.

  CHEATING PIG!!

  Yes. When he did this last year, the police had to dissect through your mother’s long line of past sexual partners, and had to track down the father you never met for an interview. No leads came about, because it was all time wasted, anyways. Now, with this new addition, the mayor will not only have to set the scandals ablaze again by having to publicly confess his infidelity to the town and police, but they’ll have to lead on another pointless investigation for every woman he’s cheated with— over a dozen of them. They’ll have to also charge him with withholding crucial information from the investigation as well, but what’s so fucking comical about it all is that.. NONE of it has anything to do with any of this. It’ll just be another cold case with no leads. 

  And maybe, just MAYBE you’ll be smart enough to ditch this place and come with him. That’s all he wanted. You have nothing left and nothing to come back to now, and as long as you give in to him and leave, there won’t have to be anymore lives taken. You could start a new life and never experience another hell like the one he’s creating here. If only you’d say yes.

  “May you both continue to clap each other’s cheeks in the deepest depths of hell,” he told the mauled corpses as he walked off, so happy to have Baley gone that he almost wanted to skip to his car. 

  Now, he will go home and clap your cheeks to complete the cycle.

  —

“Damnit, bitch, pick up,” you huffed in frustration as Baley’s FaceTime continued to roll over, telling you that she’s unavailable. You thought you could power through today with your newly adapted ability to suppress shit, but it was hard when you’re left alone to reminisce. You just couldn’t shake the fact that the date on today’s calendar marked the same day that your heart, soul, and peace of mind was so horribly torn apart. 

  It didn’t help that you also missed your mother terribly. She wasn’t always the best, but she still loved you, and you loved her. Oh, God. Mom—

No. No. Don’t think about her.

You tried calling Baley one more time and couldn’t fight off the tremble in your hands, nor the tears at your water ducts as it rung through till the end. Damnit. 

  You couldn’t be angry. She doesn’t owe you the company— especially since you two have already been FaceTiming all day. But she was good at distractions, always able to drag you out of your shell of deprecation with her chaotic sense of humor. She is one of the only two people you have in your life that are capable of doing such, but you knew you’d get scolded if you blew up the others phone. Jungkook hates being hounded and rushed, having already told you that he’ll be there any minute. But he’s taking way too fucking long it seems, and you just hate sitting here, waiting.

  You can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. The feeling first crept up on you this time last year and never left. You felt so venerable to the cruel world when you’re alone, especially since the maniac is still out there.

  You still resent the police department  for practically giving up on your mother’s case after 9 months. “Cheating pig” was the only lead they got and yet, it pointed them no where. She wasn’t in a relationship. She didn’t even like relationships. And still, they deemed it a randomized attack— no leads, no motives. Nothing. Just a local woman stabbed in the chest 19 times while taking a shower. Like some Psycho remake. No signs of forced entry. No evidence of sexual assault. Just a very passionate, yet unexplainable massacre with a useless message left behind. 

  It doesn’t make sense. And even though you wish to never have the attacker come back, you can feel it in your bones that they will wish to clarify it one day. 

  “Fuck it.” You breathed out, heart slamming against your chest and paranoia gnawing at your insides as you quickly scrolled to Jungkook contact. But then, just as your thumb twitched to press the call button, your door bell rung and you sprung up to your feet, making a mad dash to the door. You checked the peep hole first, just knowing it was gonna be him, but was disappointed when it wasn’t. That still didn’t keep a rush of relief from washing over you when you did see who it really was, though. You forced a welcoming smile on to your face as you unlocked all 7 bolts from the door, and opened it to greet Namjoon and Hobi with a hug. 

  They were cops, currently in their uniforms, also old friends from highschool. They’ve been looking out for you ever since last year, always making sure you knew you were safe beneath their watch. They use to take turns guarding your house until they were told to stop, but you were extremely happy to see them both here at the same time tonight.

  “Everything okay?” Hobi asked, having noticed the shake in your limbs during the brief embrace. He leaned back and observed the tension in your eyes, even though you were hoping to hide it. 

  “Yes, just— today,” was all you could say, and didn’t have to clarify for them to understand. 

  “That’s why we’re here. We got permission to guard your house tonight,” Namjoon explained, eyes drifting over your shoulder and into your house. “Are you alone?”

  “Yes, but Jungkook should be here any minute now. He had to go to South Korea for a week for his fathers birthday and just flew back in tonight, but apparently there’s been some huge wreck on the main highway and everyone has been stuck.”

  That bit of information was actually true. However, Jungkook was lucky enough to have just miss it.. because he’s the one that actually caused it. It was honestly dumb-luck as to how he did it, but kind of amazing when given details.

  He was in the express lane, him and the car behind him hitting 80mph. He recognized the car as the one that was parked beside his back at the airport, because he had stopped and took a moment to judge the driver for how worn down and raggedy the tires were. One bad pot hole or nail in the road would strip that sucker straight from the rim. 

  And that’s exactly what inspired him as he recognized the car, an idea sparking that could soon serve as an alibi in the future. He already had a hand out the window, smoking a cigarette. He still has those iron steak-nails he used at his construction sight. They’re 5 inches in length, subtle enough to casually drop out of a car window along with the cigarette. If they hit just right... 

  He gave it a try, honestly thinking it wasn’t going to work.

  But holy fucking hell, did it.  Not even a second after he dropped it, did the car suddenly swerve out as it’s tires screeched and sparks flew. Rubber scattered out amongst the road as the car continued to spin out, getting struck by a the car in all 6 lanes of traffic, ultimately causing a huge pile up in just under 10 seconds. It was the most destruction he’s ever witnessed and it happened so fucking fast he almost ran himself off the road just watching from the rear view mirror.

  “NO FUCKING WAY!” Jungkook had squawked out as his head rapidly whipped back and forth to witness the massive mess he just created behind him. He was smiling like the maniac he is, undoubtably impressed with himself. He did it so lazily, too. But it only pumped him up even more for what he needed to do- the whole reason he even thought to do that. He only wanted something major enough to buy himself maybe an hour’s worth of time, so that when/if he gets interrogated in the future, they can check the traffic reports for a registered wreck to fit his alibi. But considering that he just shut the whole damn highway down, it’ll not only register but definitely make tonight’s news. 

  “Ah, yeah. We heard about that. 36 cars piled up. Can’t believe nobody was killed.” Namjoon said.

  “How the fuck did that even happen?” You wondered, baffled.

  “Some dickhead was going 80 an hour on an old tire and it wiped out after hitting a nail on the road. Thankfully, he only has a broken nose and whip flash, but with all the cars that got totaled— I don’t even want to know how much the cost of damage would be. But it caused 5 miles worth of traffic back-up.” 

  “Mm..” you grimaced, shaking your head. “Well.. would you guys like some dinner? Maybe some Coffee?”

  “Ah, thanks, but there’s no need. We’ve got all the energy drinks and McDonald’s we need. You just chill out for the night, we’re right out here if you need anything,” Hobi assured, making you genuinely smile for the first time in the past two days. 

 But that was just before a familiar car pulled up that had your mood skyrocketing.

  “FINALLY!” You broke out, sprinting down the steps and over the driver side of it right as the man of the hour stepped out. He welcomed you with open arms and easily lifted your feet up of the ground.

  He looked just as good as he smelt. You’ve missed him more than words could describe in this past week— and Jungkook knew it. Of course, he had offered to take you with him so that you could finally meet his parents. But as predicted, you declined, saying that it’d be too much to meet his mother when the anniversary of your own’s death was approaching. 

  You continued to squeeze your arms around his neck for the next several seconds, and it wasn’t until he heard you sniffling and felt your shoulders shake that he realized you were crying. He couldn’t help but like that type of reaction. He was hoping the distance would torment you, maybe teach your ass a lesson.

  “Don’t cry,” he rumbled in your ear as he pressed you hard against his lower half,  making sure to up the intimacy of the embrace as he felt the eyes of the onlookers in the yard. 

He waited for a second before peering over at the officers, who were awkwardly standing beside their cars. He gave a wave, pretending as if he were sheepish about them having to witness this. 

  “How’s it goin, guys?” 

  “Fine, fine,” Hobi responded. “Don’t mind us. We’re just here to watch out for you guys.”

  “I appreciate that. Really.” He said in his best acting voice, even flashing a dimpled grin that gave off nothing but innocence as the two got into a patrol car, nodding to him in welcome. It actually makes things more convenient for him. They’ll be able to backup his whereabouts later on.

  He pondered this while returning his attention to you, coaxing you out of your emotional outburst.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just been so hard not having you here. Fuck, I’m so glad you’re back.” You breathed in and sighed out, and he could tell by the end of the last sentence that you were more-so talking to yourself, clinging to him one last time just to greedily soak in the physical presence of his body. He felt something ache in his heart, as well as his jeans. 

  “Well, I’m here now. Maybe next time, you’ll just go with me,” he lightly chided, hand coming up to pet your head as he kissed the top of it. 

  “Yeah.. I started regretting it after the first hour you left.” You whispered out, meeting his lips. You kissed each other a couple times, probably more than necessary. But it calmed you down and made you feel steady again. “Come on, I made you something to eat.” 

  He got his duffel bag out from the back seat and slung it over his shoulder before taking your hand,  following you inside. It boosted his ego knowing that the two men watching from the tinted windows of the car were secretly jealous of him. They had a thing for you. Almost every straight guy in highschool did. That’s why he never minded what you wore, and was more than happy to let you flaunt yourself to their eyes. He liked teasing others, knowing they’ll never have such a prize as you.

  Once inside, you were quick to relock your bolts. You were very strict about that now, taking extra precautions to prevent a potential attack. It kind of humored him knowing that it was him, a resident inside this very home itself, that those locks were meant to keep out. You’re literally locking yourself in with the killer.

  “Damn, you cleaned the hell out of this place.” He ogled, not only taking in the immaculacy but smelling the pinesol and bleach amongst the floors and counter tops. All the laundry was folded, not a speck of dust in sight. You even cleaned the grout amongst the kitchen flooring, it seemed. Nothing looked out of place. 

   “I had to do something to keep from wigging out,” you shrugged, walking over to start the microwave for him to heat up his dinner plate. He left his duffel bag by the door and grabbed himself a beer before sitting at the table, noticing it’s prestigious shine. 

  “Did you polish it?”

  “Yeah...” you said as you scratched the back of your neck, somehow embarrassed. 

  “It’s looks amazing in here, kitten. Really. I know you did it to cope but still, you did a damn good job.” He praised, feeling a little bad. He knows this took a lot of work, and it sucks that you opted to do all this just to keep the anxiety of his absence away.

  “Thank you,” you sighed, taking his plate out and sitting in down in front him, then handing him some utensils. 

“Where’s your plate?”

  “I already ate, silly. I’ll munch with you, though.” You began making yourself a salad as he began to eat, complimenting you on how good it was. He doesn’t know that you’ve been awake for two days straight, and that you’re still battling off an anxiety attack. You were expecting it to vanish now that he’s here, but the sleep deprivation was getting to you. 

  So, you decided to reminisce on better memories. The old days; back when you first met him.

  It was senior year of highschool, and he was the new transfer student from South Korea. He was the punk-emo guy that stood out amongst the crowd. All black clothing, more band shirts than anything. He had that messy mop-hair going on, and approximately 6 piercings on each ear, along with a studded labret to boot. 

  From day one, he was the most attractive guy you’ve ever laid eyes on.  Much to his exterior trope, he was anti-social and didn’t seem friendly at all. The only time you personally heard him speak for the first few months of school was when he’d answer the teacher for roll call. 

You only had one class together, chemistry. He’d always sit at the back of the classroom, and you’d remember the giddiness you’d feel just before walking into class and making eye contact with him, even for just a split second. You heart always skipped a beat and would threaten to seize up whenever Baley would lean over and tell you that he was looking at you again. Of course, that would be all the interaction you could get, being as you refused to engage any further. But life seemed to play out like a Wattpad fic back then. 

  Around the middle of first semester, your teacher was fed up with all the chatter amongst friends, so she decided to assign seats. Jungkook’s was still at his designated one, but you had to sit directly in front of him so that Taehyung could sit closer up, next to Baley. It’s also thanks to that class that the two of them fell for each other. It was also the same day she issued a partner-assignment that had to be done with the peer behind you. 

 You remembered having to play it cool, turning your desk and chair around to face him head-on for the first time ever. You anticipated that he’d still be sporting that ice-cold, disinterested glare, but he actually seemed pleased. He wasn’t actually smiling but he had a friendly glint in his eyes, like he welcomed you.

  “Hello,” he started off, naturally confident in himself.

  “Howdy,” you responded, immediately hating yourself. You’ve never uttered such a word in your life and you don’t know why the fuck you decided that that was the perfect moment to try it out. 

  He only snorted back at you, though, amusement swirling in his colorless eyes. You were intimidated by that as well. They were jett black. No distinction between his pupils and his irises. Just solid, black orbs boring into you.

  You then continued to battle with basic communication.  

“So, uhm.. wh—..” 

English, motherfucker! Do you speak it?!

“What parts do you wanna do?” You rushed out.

  “I’ll get the information together and answer the questions, as long as you create the PowerPoint and present it to the class,” he said without missing a beat, as if he’d already decided on that for the both of you. 

  “What criteria, though?” You asked, still waiting on that part. 

  “All of it...” He reiterated in a “duh” tone. 

  “That’s not fair to you, though...” you continued. 

  He arched an impressively sharp brow. “How?” 

  “You’re literally doing all the hard work.”

He shrugged, and you tried not to drool when you saw all his rings and the veins on his hands and fingers as he took his phone out. “I learned this shit back when I was freshman in South Korea. We’re way ahead of y’all there.” 

  “Oh.. well.. I can at least do the images and label them.” 

  Stop starring at his fingers.

  “Mm,” he hummed with a lack of conviction, still looking at his phone. “No offense, but no.”

  “Uhm.. okay..” you frowned in dejection, not sure how to respond to that. 

  “I said no offense,” he grinned up at you apologetically. “I just know you’re bad with visualizations.” 

  “What? I have an A in here. How do you even know that?”

  “The teacher got onto you for messing up the labels on the last test. You got all the functions right but failed to match them to their description.” He said without any hesitation, and you were just as stunned as you were embarrassed. But he didn’t seem to be insulting you, and even reassured you of it. “Again, no offense. I just think it’s best for the both of us if I do it.” 

  “Okay. Cool,” You agreed, deciding to let him have it. Your face still burned, though. 

  “You still have an important role, don’t worry. Presentation is worth 40%, so you’re still gonna have to put in work and present it accordingly.” 

  “I can do that.” You nodded, suddenly feeling like you were sitting before a full grown man rather than a teenage boy. You couldn’t help but ask: “How old are you?” 

  “19,” he mused, as if he knew what you were thinking. He didn’t even ask you why you asked, and instead returned his attention back to his phone screen. “You?”

  “18,” you muttered, your eyes reconnecting to his hands like magnets.

    You really wanted to compliment them but decided against it, being as you were no longer as confident with this situation. Sure, he deserves to know how beautiful his hands are but you’re weren’t going to be the one to say it. You were expecting a cheeky personality at most, just because it fits the mischievous bad boy bullshit you read about in teen fiction, but you were instead met with a blunt and mature persona that made you intimidated in a way that you’ve never experienced before. He almost seemed.. authoritative to you. 

  “I see you like my rings.” He smirked, eyes not even looking back up at you. You had spaced out whilst tracing the path of his veins again, and immediately cut your eyes down to your own phone, feigning innocence.

  “Whatchu mean?”

  “Everyone like my hands, for some reason. I see you’re no different.” 

  “I ain’t even looking at your hands. Maybe you’re just too conceded,” you shot back, leg nervously pouncing as he lifted his head up to peer at you. 

  “Really?” He sarcastically challenged, making your insides stir. He sat up straight and pulled his hands back under his desk. “So the gold rings didn’t even catch your eye?” 

  “Your rings are silver.” You said without even thinking, then straight up face-palmed when you caught yourself.

  “Thought so.” He openly grinned, and the little notion caused butterflies to erupt in your tummy. He pulled his phone back out and still wore that playful grin of his as you bashfully held his gaze. “Now, if you think you can manage to tell the truth, what’s your phone number?” 

    It’s amazing looking back at those memories, because you’re now starting to think that maybe Jungkook just knew back then that you two were going to hit it off. He’s always seemed so sure of himself when it came to you, always knew what the next move was gonna be and never once sent mixed signals or struggled to express how he felt towards you. He’s the most straightforward person you know, so much that it’s almost unnatural at times. If he was ever bluffing about anything outside of being playful, you’ve never been able to call it. 

  But damn, are you madly in love with him. You guess his ability to always remain focused and blunt is perfect for a person like you. He keeps you moving... well, for the most part. He wants you to move back to South Korea with him, and although you know you’ll eventually give in, you’ve been trying to hold off on it for as long as you can. 

 It won’t be as easy for you as it was for him. Jungkook was already fluent in English when he came here, thanks to his mother’s bilingualism. He hardly even had an accent from how well adjusted he was to your language. You, however, don’t know a bit of Korean. For you to go there, it would impair you in almost every single way. You won’t be able to go anywhere without him. You won’t be able to read directions or road signs. You won’t be able to go out and eat or order off the menu if there isn’t any pictures. You won’t be able to work. You’ll have to adapt to a whole new culture and way of communication, just to properly function outside of your home without him at your side. 

  Which, brings along another point, you’ll be without any friends. You don’t want to live in a world where you can’t go out with Taehyung and Baley whenever you wanted. You’ll be lonely as hell and home sick, he’ll be your only source of humanly contact until you learn.

  You’ve told yourself that if the two of you remain stable for one more year, then you’ll go. You are ready for a change, but if you could just get one more year of preparation, you’ll be ready to go. You’ll take that leap of faith with him. 

  “What is it, kitten?” He finally asked, the prolonged silence getting to him.

  “Nothing,” you lied, but didn’t want to divulge. “How was your trip?” 

  “Nice, but I was bummed out the whole time.” He shot you a look that made you pout in apology, but continued. “I talked all about you to them, showed them pictures. Almost fucked up and showed my cousin your vagina.” 

  You choked on your salad, which made him laugh. “I told you to put those in your hidden folder.”

  “There’s so many, I just haven’t taken the time to pick them all out. It’s okay though, they only saw your face. They all think very beautiful— especially my mom.”

  Your smile grew at that, “Yeah?” 

  “Yeah. So does my grandmother and my aunts. They were passing my phone around more than the dishes.” He snorted to himself, “They were even more surprised to see how much I smiled in our selfies. Which... I should warn you, when you do finally see my parents house, don’t be surprised when you spot our photo booth pictures framed in the hall. My mom went feral when she saw how much of a simp I was being in those.” 

  “She printed those out?!” You almost cried.

  “Yes, she did. She printed each one individually and framed them side-by-side.” 

  “Aw, Kookie. I should’ve just went. I’m so sorry.” You pouted, guilt causing your heart to sink.

“You weren’t ready, angel. They understood,” He assured you, leaning forward to take your hand in his. You suddenly wanted to cry again. 

  “But I promise to go next time. Or whenever you wanna take me. I swear, I’ll go.” You said in determination, and was a little thrown off by his reaction.

  His face went blank for a moment c like his brain needed a second to buffer. 

  “You will?” He inquired, that being the first time you’ve actually agreed or expressed any type of want. “Why now?”

  “Because it sounds like they really want to meet me, too? What’s wrong?” 

  “Nothing. That’s great. I just figured you wouldn’t be moved by that. You really wanna go now?”

  “Yeah. Your family sounds so nice.” 

  “Was that what kept you from coming?” He interrogated, and it’s clear that he genuinely had no faith in you ever entertaining the idea.. which was a little disheartening. You’ve never said you’d never want to go, you’ve always kept a window open for later. You not sure why he’s so surprised. 

  “No, not necessarily. I wasn’t ready to meet them but if they’re that excited to meet me, then.. of course it’ll make me want to meet them, too. And get a little taste of South Korea.” 

  “Alright, I’ll plan a trip,” he had to say with forced enthusiasm, which you bought as you kissed his lips. Inwardly, though, he was screaming. If all it fucking took was a little conviction by saying his family was nice, just to make you consider.. them maybe he wouldn’t have had to do what he just did. 

  Whatever. Extra insurance. He had to tell himself, and decided to retrain his thoughts back on you as he remembered something.

  “I have a special surprise for you.” 

  “Yeah?” 

  “Mhm,” he stood up and walked over to his duffel, fishing around before pulling something out. “Close your eyes.”

 You did as told, and waited about 10 seconds. 

“Open.”

You almost shit yourself upon hearing the voice, then came closer to shitting yourself when you took in the familiar Ghostface mask that you seen in the movie Scream.

  “WHUZZZUUHHH!” He drawled out while doing the cowabunga fingers, and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

  “Where the hell did you get that?”

  “Halloween store. I got it in Korea.”

   That was a lie. He’s had two of these masks for over two years, both of which he got from Party City here in America. He bought one to kill your mother in— the same one he just wore to kill your friends in— and the other one was meant for what he wanted to do now. He wanted to fuck you with it on. He’s not sure why, but why not? You might  discover you have a mask kink. 

  “What the fuck is up with the voice?” 

  “Sexy, ain’t it?” He animatronically purred out, and it wasn’t until he fully stepped forward and began undoing his belt that you realized he was already shirtless. 

  Your eyes grew wide as you landed back in your chair, unable to decipher if this was a joke or not. You soon realized it wasn’t as he was now popping his button loose and unzipping his pants— his hardening dick print becoming more prominent. 

  “You’re not fucking me with that mask on,” you blurted out, sticking your foot out to stop him from advancing any closer.

  “I’m fucking you with this mask on,” he argued, grabbing your ankle. “Consider it pay back for the time you refused to give me head unless I let you wear your Burger King crown.” 

  “No, Darth Vader.” You tried pulling your leg back but soon wound up almost getting drug out of your chair and onto the floor. Your unease soon turned into giggles and screams as wound up besting your play fight, his mask only coming off long enough to go down on you at the kitchen table. 

  And that’s what set the night off. You went from getting your pussy eaten at the dinner table to getting your throat wrecked on the living room couch. Then you were forced to watch yourself get rammed up against your body mirror in the bedroom, and now you’re bent up like a pretzel amongst your bed.

  “Ah— GAH!” You grunted in struggle, finding it hard to cuss like you wanted being as a hand was firmly constricting your air supply. You watched the masked man above you as he heatedly fucked into you, his chain dangling above your face. Your ankles helplessly swayed around his shoulders with each brutal slap of his pelvis. Your face still stung from the actual slaps of his palms, causing you to flinch any time his hands moved. You noticed done time throughout all this that he was hellbent on making you look at that damn mask. You weren’t complaining, though. Just more-so concerned about how hot it must be under there. 

  But then he slowed down for a moment, trying not to cum again as he lowered his face to yours, and finally decided it was time it come off, being as you were ready for a kiss.

  “T-Take that damn mask off—“ 

  Wrong move.

  He growled and ripped your hand away as you tried removing it yourself, and you were stunned by how much aggressive he became— more aggressive than he was already being, as if truly lashing out. He man-handled you, flipping you over and plunging back into you with way too much force. You yelped at the intrusion but could do nothing else as he pinned your hands behind your back, picking his speed right back up. He kept your hands locked in place with a single one of his own before clapping the other around your mouth, darkly chuckling at the fright on your face. 

  “I meant it when I said it’s staying on,” he rasped, pushing into you so deep that veins protruded from your neck in strain. 

  He couldn’t explain it— or maybe he could. But he felt extremely powerful when he wore this mask. It took him all of two rounds to finally admit to himself that it turned him on, knowing you were getting off to the very same face that your loved ones last looked at in sheer terror. He didn’t realize up until then that he somehow considered Ghostface as a different alternative to himself, one he was growing to like a little too much. It even made his dick more sensitive to the feel of you, making you seem tighter. And warmer. And sluttier.

  He’s sure he began speaking Latin somewhere in the midst, but it wasn’t until he saw tears surfacing in your eyes that it dawned on him that his hand had somehow traveled up to cover your nose, as well as your mouth. A moment of panic shot through him when he dropped it and allowed you to breathe, thinking you were gonna make him stop. But much to his pleasant surprise, you only coughed out and mewled, head collapsing on the pillow as you pushed against him, a silent demand keep going. So he did. He made sure to keep the punishing pace up and running. Your body violently jolted with each slam, ass bone aching at the brutal impact. Each thrust was felt like a punch to your cervix and someway or another, you were okay with it. 

 Little did he know, it was actually because you didn’t want any type of deja vu happening. He fucked you in all the ways you liked the night before you found out that your mother was slaughtered inside your childhood home. You didn’t want tonight to be anything like it. So you let him hurt you. 

  If only you knew history was going to repeat itself, no matter what the two of you did.

  It didn’t take but a few more strokes before he lost his ability to hold off, and emptied himself inside for the third time since he’s arrived back. 

  Once he did that, the blinds were illuminated in a dim grey, hinting at a sunrise. After a quick shower and clean up, the two of laid there, the mask finally gone. 

  “What are you thinking, baby?” Jungkook wondered, starring up at the ceiling. You haven’t said much of anything since that last bit. “Did I hurt you? Scare you?” 

  “No. I could take it.” You said, and it sounded genuine. But he still wanted to know what was on your mind. “I just don’t know what the hell I would do if I didn’t have you. You’re the only person I know that’s never even accidentally done wrong by me. You’ve been nothing but good.” 

  A void clouded his mind, emotional absence taking place of everything else. It’s a defense mechanism that he’s certain only comes up to block out any sense of guilt or remorse. He kept his gaze up at the ceiling, even as he felt you crane your neck back to look up at him. 

  “I love you, Kookie. Thank you for being here.” 

  “I love you too, baby,” he said numbly, those words being true... but his next words were not. “I could never imagine myself doing anything to hurt you.” 

  Being as he wasn’t planning on looking down, you crawled up for a moment just to kiss him, unbothered by the distant stare in his gaze. You then laid back down and got comfortable, readying yourself for a good days sleep.

  “I think it’s finally time I start seeking happiness again, instead of contentment.” 

  That’s when it hit him. You didn’t notice how his heart cleaned beneath your head, nor was there any way you could feel the tension in his gut. He can’t say he feels full remorseful for what he did, because that would require him sympathizing for the innocent lives he’s taken away, with no rational reason. He simply didn’t feel anything for them. He was only concerned your pain, especially knowing it was unnecessary now. His trip to Korea was enough to motivate you to move on and consider a change of scenery. You didn’t need any fear to drive you out, you just needed time. God only knows how far of a set back this will be now. The fact that you’re laying here, currently thinking that life will only go up from here, when he knows damn good and well it’ll be in shambles again before the day ends.. 

  He really needs to work on his impulses. Maybe homocide shouldn’t always be the first option he leans towards. It was just more fun that way.

  But moments like this weren’t fun at all. He remembers how grueling it was last year, waking up with you at the sound of the doorbell going off. He remembers the grim look on the sheriffs face as he told them that they found your mother, dead. It was his arms that had to pick you up off the floor as you crumbled down and screamed, his ears that rung as he held you, not knowing how to console you. For the last year, it’s been his shoulder you’ve cried on, his company keeping you sane, his reassurance telling you that everything was going to be okay.... When it was his hands that caused every single bit of grieve all along.. and was about to cause even more.

  So, he did the only thing he could do in that moment. He held you and mentally apologized, hoping that there was some way to telepathically tell you that you mean more to him than life itself, and that’s he’s so sorry for letting it drive him crazy at times. He’s still clinging to the original intention that you’ll say fuck it and flee with him, but he regrets going about it so recklessly. 

  You were fast asleep now, snoring even. He only hoped the discovery of the bodies would hold off long enough for you to get some much needed sleep. But it seems the universe was done working in his favor. 

  Those same, familiar knocks sounded off at the door, and he immediately ordered you to stay put as it woke you up.

  “Probably just them checking up. Go back to sleep.” He whispered, assertively pushing your head back down and pulling on some sweats before going to the door. 

  It was the sheriff, same look on his face as last year.

  “Sir?” Jungkook frowned, posing cluelessly. 

  The sheriff looked ghostly pale, like he was nauseated and on the verge of tears. Jungkook knew why but he had to act like it was a throw off. 

  “Sir..?” He repeated.

  “Y’all’s friends.. Baley and Taehyung were found this morning.” 

  He had to stall and blink, as if he wasn’t catching on to the implications. The sheriff reluctantly continued.

“Baley was found, dead on arrival. Looks like the killer has returned.” 

  “Wh-What?” Jungkook stuttered, acting like he was bewildered. The sheriff’s next words, however, would spark a more genuine reaction.

“And Taehyung was found unconscious, but still alive.”

  Jungkook’s veins ran colder than ever before, all mimicked emotions becoming sincere in that moment.

  “Someone attempted to cut his throat, but aimed too high and cut his under jaw instead.” 

Jungkook could only stare at the sheriff, probably just as pale in the face now. 

“He’s in critical condition. Doctors don’t know if he’ll make it just yet, but there’s a fighting chance that he might.”

[eddiesfaerie]

Pet

Summary: You accompany the Supreme Leader to one of his meetings. Unsurprisingly, you become desperate for attention. (2.2k words) ao3 link here

Warnings: NSFW, noncon/implied noncon, f!reader, exhibitionism, memories of sex lol, thigh riding, canon typical violence, violence against reader??, Kylo Ren is not nice, choking, slapping, mentions of blood, bondage i guess (let me know if i missed anything!)

@elmidol: Kylo + “Tell them to fuck off.” okay so maybe i went off with this request... i literally couldn't help myself so i hope you enjoy!!!

The transparisteel of the throne room is always cold beneath your knees, you flinch anytime your thighs come into contact with it if you shift your position too much. It often left you with purpling bruises on your kneecaps, ones that never seem to fade anymore.

You accompany the Supreme Leader in any and every meeting he wants you in, which as of late, has been to every single one. If he asks for you, you’re there. At this point, you assume it’s just some form of punishment; because as much as you’re expected not to speak, you’re expected to stay awake and attentive.

Half the time you let your mind wander off into some fantasy. Sometimes it involves the Supreme Leader, remembering how he fucked you the night before, wondering if he’d do that thing with the Force again.

Other times it was about escaping. You were punished by him for both sorts of daydreams. Now you just try to keep your mind as blank as possible. Sometimes you almost manage to reach a meditative state if the meetings are long enough.

The air of his throne room is cold. Everyone else is dressed normally, of course. You don’t doubt that you’re the only one shivering in your own flesh. The thinnest scrap of useless silk cascades down your body, completely see-through and hides nothing of your body for anyone who dares sneak a glance in your direction.

Besides the scrap of material you think someone referred to as a dress once, the only other thing you wear is your collar and chain - a heavy, thick metal, one they definitely use on the ships and TIE fighters, you’ve concluded. It’s sturdy and basically indestructible to anyone who wasn’t Force sensitive.

The metal was branded ungraciously with anything but fancy letters or delicate swooping and curling. No, your Supreme Leader didn’t care to spoil you with niceties. Thick capital letters branded on to the front of the collar spelt out R-E-N.

Ren.

You're his. His thing, his object. Whatever he wants you to be, you became that. You belong to him. And you’ve long since accepted that. Once you stopped struggling, it became easier and at times… enjoyable.

You also think that the Supreme Leader’s become more comfortable around you as time has passed. He’s not as harsh with you anymore, not nearly as cruel as your first few weeks with him. He was nowhere near easy, or nice, or kind, or loving. He was none of that, but you were starting to like how sharp his edges were, how cold he could be.

It became a little game of yours; seeing how long it could take for you to crack him on certain nights, how long until he let you massage his shoulders, his arms, his thighs or let you suck his cock on your own accord. It’s rare but it actually works sometimes. Sometimes he lets you in.

If he’s tired enough, fucked out enough, or just had enough, he’ll let you do as you please, like a little fish cleaning up after the shark’s mess; he’ll let you have some scraps.

Sometimes, he hand feeds you the scraps. Like right now.

Your head is resting on his thigh as he sits back extremely reclined, leisurely, unbothered yet so, so bored. And his hand is on your skull, fingers scritching at your scalp.

It was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. You could fall asleep just like this -

But you can’t. The rule. The rule! You have to stay awake even though he’s visibly slacking right now, probably dozing off to some fantasy as he mindlessly scratches at your head.

You sneak a peek up in his direction only to find his eyes already on you. You nearly squeak as you look away, back at the people congregating in his throne room for whatever ‘important’ reason.

His eyes burn like suns, they welt and blister your skin and you try to clear your mind, making it a place of disinterest to him so he doesn’t feel the urge to go swimming in and around your thoughts as he so often does.

A quiet murmur resonates throughout the room, coming from no direction in particular, it’s just simply there. It’s the incoming of his voice through the Force, you know this now, you’ve become accustomed to it. It ripples towards you like tiny waves in a pond before you hear his voice clear and deep in your head.

“Come.”

His hand steadily leaves your scalp, coming to rest gently on his thigh; his way of asking you to come sit on his lap. He’s never asked this of you while in a meeting before, he never really cares to give you that much attention, fearing it'll give you an ego, make you think you're special or something.

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, uselessly debating over something you have no say in.

Having already wasted enough of his energy on asking you politely, the Supreme Leader pulls on your chain, sending you hurling up off the ground and straight into his lap. You make an ugly noise, one of surprise and fear as you fall into him almost gracefully thanks to the tiny invisible touches of the Force along your skin.

He steadies you against him with one hand on your waist and the other pulling your chain tight, pinning your back to his wide chest. You straddle only one of his enormous thighs - bare cunt pressed flushed to the rough material of his pants - and he keeps you there, holds you still while you try to regain your breath from being moved so quickly yet so effortlessly.

You keep your eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to block out the several pairs of eyes that are taking in the scene before them, trying to tame your nerves and swallow down your shame and embarrassment. You're so visibly flustered, no doubt the Supreme Leader's getting a kick out of this.

You hear more rippling murmurs approaching you. Then a smooth leathered hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh tight in his crushing grip.

“Eyes open, pet.”

You hesitate too long, still trying to regain your breath. That same hand on your thigh comes down hard, smacking your skin and letting the sound of slapped flesh and your wanton cry float through the room.

You try to curl towards him, to hide yourself in his broad frame but he holds you and your chain tight. His voice fills your head.

“You do as I say.”

You begin to answer him with a nod of your head but he cuts off your attempt.

“Out loud.”

You close your eyes and take in a deep, shuddering breath. Nothing could have prepared you for this unique type of degradation today. “Yes, sir.”

Only a few heads turn, no one daring to stare at you for too long. Like he had called you, you were his pet, that granted you some level of security.

The Supreme Leader makes some sort of contented sound with his throat. Whoever was speaking continues on with their speech while you finally manage to come down from such an overwhelming ordeal.

His hand stays on your thigh, tenderly massaging the flesh where he had hit you, emphasizing the sweet sting and letting it resonate throughout your body until it finds its way to your clit. The little pearl buzzes, needy for attention but you refrain from begging for mercy, for him to finish you off.

It's too easy for him to get you worked up. He must have been experimenting on you or something, like Pavlov's dogs or whatever. Anytime he touches you, even in the slightest, it sends you reeling for more, it turns you into some desperate whore, needy for whatever he would give you, whatever he deems you worthy of. Whether it was his spit or his flaccid cock in your mouth, you take it and accept it eagerly-

“Quiet.”

His sudden booming voice fills your head and sends you squeaking a silent apology back to him, your hips involuntarily jerking on his thigh. He pulls on your chain again, your back becoming flush with his chest, the length of your pussy dragging along his thigh leaving an embarrassingly sticky trail in its wake. You keen at the sensation, wondering if he was doing this to you on purpose.

“Doing what?”

You huff out a non-response, telling yourself you would roll your eyes right now if it wouldn’t get you-

“Punished.”

You audibly groan, rocking your hips onto his thigh on purpose this time. Fuck, he was so infuriating, so difficult to deal with. You’re thankful you’re just his plaything, not someone who has to deal with him professionally. He’s impossible.

You ignore the heads that turn in your direction this time and focus on the unsatisfying clench of your pussy around nothing. You know he feels it, feels the way your pussy is throbbing with its own heartbeat for him right now. He knows how desperate you are, he must…

Silence.

No response from him.

Maker, you could cry right now. He's usually so easy to rile up. So easy to frustrate, to annoy, to anger.

Yet he gave you no bruising grip on your thigh or waist, no warning for you to stop. Nothing.

His hand retreated from your thigh and now lounged on the armrest of his giant throne. His other hand doing the same. You feel the warmth radiating off of his chest leave you as he leans back against the throne. He was spreading himself out so wide and so far away from you.

You know he must still be wandering around in your mind, he has to be. There was no way he wasn’t doing this on purpose.

So you project.

You imagine all the ways he’s taken you, all the places and surfaces he’s bent you over just to relieve his tension, his anger, not caring if you came or not. You often did but it was never with any special care from him, just the pure shock and intensity of his fat cock, impaling you over and over again until you couldn’t help but cum all over him and sob from overstimulation, begging for more despite the pain, despite the blood-

The lights in the room flicker and whoever’s speaking stutters at the sudden distraction, but then continues on discussing… whatever it was they’re discussing.

You continue as well, remembering all the different way he’s punished you: for accidentally chanting his name as if in prayer when you’ve become so cock drunk and fucked out that it was the only thing that you could possibly think of.

Kylo, Kylo, Kylo.

You remember how he’s slapped you, hit you with the unforgiving and weighted metal of his lightsaber hilt. How he’s bruised you, burned you, marked you with his teeth, his lips, his weapon. You remember it all and you shamelessly rut yourself against his thigh, the building pressure in your clit making your mind blank to anything else except getting yourself off on him.

Fuck, you need him. You need him so badly, need him like the moons need their planet, like a planet needs their all devouring sun, a celestial body to rotate around or else they become meaningless, drifting off into space without a serving purpose.

Your body withers against his, your back threatening to arch off his chest if it weren’t for the death grip he’s got on your chain right now, keeping you in place like an obedient dog.

The lights continue to flicker. The muruming waves return and you scramble for what’s about to come next.

“Tell them to leave.”

His voice is steady yet it crackles with hopeful embers threatening to combust into something fiery and deadly.

What?

The lights in the room buzz loud and shine brighter than they ever have, like the stars in the sky before something magnificent happens. They shriek with strain until they burst, sending shards of glass flying throughout the room as they burn out, no doubt cutting people in the process.

A figment flies by your cheek and slivers your skin. You hiss at the contact, feeling something hot and thick roll down your cheek in its wake.

“Tell them," his voice booms, "to fuck off.”

“L-leave.” You speak, voice small, unsure and terrified. You’re not certain if anyone even heard you based on the minimal reaction you got. A few heads turn, surprised to hear the timid voice of the Supreme Leader’s pet.

Yet no one budges.

Your Supreme Leader’s hand snakes its way up to your throat, resting above your thick metal collar and crushes your windpipe in warning. You try again, this time, like he asked.

“F-fuck off.”

Someone, an idiot, dares to speak up with a voice quivering worse than your own, “S-Supreme Leader?”

“You heard her.” It’s the first time he’s spoken in hours. His voice is terrifyingly calm and sickeningly deep, you feel it resonate throughout your entire body, landing in the depths of your belly. You whimper pathetically, anticipating whatever storm is about to come.

Everyone stands, chair scraping against the floor and they file out through the giant throne room doors, letting the thick and heavy material seal you two away until your Supreme Leader is through with you.

[has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong]

How will Caster Gil’s s/o cope with his bad sleeping habits?

Hello anon, thank you for the request. Actually, yeah. I wonder about that too. I did once read an incredible one about a similar topic of Caster Gilgamesh being overwhelmed, which is also a great read!

All right, I'll give it my best ;3

Also Caster Gilgamesh is such a mood to the culture of overwork tbh, it make me feel kinda sad.

S/O Dealing with Caster Gilgamesh's Bad Sleeping Habits

- It had been months, if not almost an entire year since Caster Gilgamesh had taken a proper night's rest.

- He was up long before the cockerel crowed at the crack of dawn, and would remain that way- for even longer than the most nocturnal of night owls.

- In other words, he was working himself to DEATH.

- Whenever you'd visit, to assuage his doubts and reassure him that it's fine if he takes a nap; Caster responds with a simple "I do not require your concern. It is my duty as a king to work peerlessly to ensure that the buffoons' operating within Chaldea do not scrimp upon their duties." Although his words are harsh, what he really means is that he doesn't want you to worry about him. Just having you visit is more than enough.

- However, for you- who has to witness Gilgamesh running himself ragged on a daily basis- such words do naught to appease the doubt gnawing within your chest.

- Often finding yourself in bed alone, your only signal as to Gilgamesh's presence would be when his entire body would flop onto the bed at only the ungodliest hours of night. Not even sparing the time to materialize into a set of pyjamas, he would instantly fall asleep; decked in his regular gear and all!!

- Worried for his health, you'd often help out by removing his shoes (yep he didn't even remove those!!) and sliding his body over so that he could sleep soundly under the bed covers (he didn't even bother to tuck himself in). Sometimes, you'd even have to apply plasters to wounds or even place hot flannels on his face to regulate his temperature. That's how bad he was at taking care of his health.

- You even went as far as to carefully place his stone tablets by the bedside table, due to his overwhelmingly bad habit of literally taking his work to bed with him.

- When Caster Gilgamesh regains enough energy to resume his regular toil for the day, he's secretly moved by how you put in the effort to tuck him in every night. Softly kissing the temple of your forehead, he whispers his gratitude in your ear- only then to sigh once he realizes that you purposely put his tablet in the wrong area gain. "Honestly, this mongrel..."

- The truth is, you're struggling. Not only is he as stubborn as an ox whenever you or others try to negotiate with him, but he won't let anybody help him either! And to top things off, you missed his company greatly. Strangely enough, the two of you did most of your bonding during missions and events (because during those times he'd either be on a rare vacation or assist you for his daily work instead); which meant that you had barely any room at all for couple time!!!

- Tomorrow was a Saturday, which meant that he would be off for the weekend. In other words, it was the perfect time to confront him-once and for all! Resolve steeled within your heart; you prepared yourself for an extremely long night.

- Caster Gilgamesh is GOBSMACKED once he returns to his room. Usually, you'd be fast asleep when he enters. But this time, you had prepared a massive surprise for him. Softly glowing candles were lined across the rooms, illuminating it within a serene light; as the healing scent of lavender embraced the room. In your hands, you had none other than a massager and relaxing ASMR binaural CD set (of whales swimming in the sea) to help Gilgamesh relax to.

- He won't say it aloud, but to come home to a feat like this means a great deal to him.

- Although he is weary, his red eyes flicker with a slight ebb of amusement; as he gathers enough energy to smile. "What possesses you to be roaming around at the witching hours of night, mongrel? Has being on your lonesome made you that eager to embrace your king?"

- Your deadpan reply of "FUCK YES." leaves him utterly startled, to the point where he has to hide an enormous blush- blossoming wildly around his ears. "But look, Gilgamesh. As you're probably on the verge of passing out right now, let me make this quick." As he shrugs off his mini jacket (?)-your hands softly massaging the tight muscles rippling through his back-you finally begin to speak.

- You explain to him that although you understand that he has to work, it would be nice if he could stop overworking; both for his sake and also so that you could spend some more time together as a couple as well. As he often spent the weekends between many groups of people, the two of you barely spent any time on your lonesome.

- "I cannot adhere to such a request. What ails Chaldea ails me in turn, hence why I must continue to toil. Mongrel. I request that you do not press the matter any further. Nonetheless, I shall reward you greatly for the honor you have bestowed upon me tonight. I do adore the delightful little sounds those whales make." Caster Gilgamesh refuses to budge, his words bearing upon your heart like a heavy stone. As he sighs with bliss at your massage skills, you struggle to hold back the tears pricking your eyes.

- It is a long, and lonely night. Staring up at the ceiling as Gilgamesh snores softly by your side, you frown. Was this it, after all? Was this what could possibly break the two of you up?!! Such worries made it all but impossible to enjoy a good night's rest.

- The weekend passes as usual, with the two of you mainly hanging out with separate groups. The heavy weight drowning your heart- like a rock sinking beneath the tumultuous waves of the sea- only heightens in intensity.

- That is until Gilgamesh shocks you in return with a surprise of his own?!!!

- Seated atop your bed at a time as early as 10PM (omg), Caster Gilgamesh apprehends you with a brilliant grin. "Ah, so you have finally decided to bestow your presence before me. Sit." Patting the space beside him with an energy much unlike his usual worn-out countenance, you can't believe your eyes. "Why do you stare at me so? Didn't I tell you that yesterday's activities were much to my liking already?!" A compliment. Yet another rare miracle had occurred.

- As soon as you sit beside him, expression as surprised as pikachu's own; he sidles towards you, a devious grin plastered on his face, as he wraps both arms around you. "Mongrel." Cradling his face against the crook of your neck, his breath lightly fans your face. "Wherever you wish to go, I shall take you there. All you need to do is say the word."

- "?!!" His riddle confuses you to no end. When you ask him what the hell he means by that, he slaps a palm to his forehead in agony.

- "Fool, what do you not understand?! I am professing my desire to take a much-needed rest, just as you suggested!" A blush yet again seeps through his features, for the most unfathomable reason. "After managing to delegate certain responsibilities by placing them on the shoulders of some rather, well, unusually...proficient mongrels; I now have the week off. I shall also be able to return to my quarters at earlier intervals on the odd occasion." As he revealed his true intentions, actual mirth warmed his expression; as you stared back in awe.

- He had heard your advice, and was actually taking it to heart?! "B-but I thought you said...I swear you said..." Your mouth flaps, pure stupefaction taking over your features. You were certain that he wasn't up for negotiation, so what lead to such a change in heart?

- "It would be unbecoming of me not to pay attention to the mongrel yapping at my heels." In Gilgamesh language, this meant that he actually wanted to spend some time with you as well. "Do not be so presumptuous, I shan't cease all work. However, I can archive more time for more... mundane activities, I suppose. I am simply repaying yesterday's favor." How bashful a reply this was!!

- As you thanked him, eagerly talking about the places you wanted to visit by his side and the things you wanted to do for your first ever couple's holiday, one could daresay state that a rather warm feeling radiated within his chest no way would he admit to that.

- It's a good thing you spoke to him about it. This time, he'll try to fit in some more time for the sake of his own health and for you, as well. not like he'll admit that though

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 282: Aizawa Defeeted

Previously on BnHA: Oh my god do we even care about that at this point. Tomura made a speech; Gran Torino died; Deku lost his shit and tried to strangle Tomura to death with his bare hands; Ryuukyuu came back from Wherever She Was and tried to grab Tomura but he punched a hole through her giant hand; and now he’s grabbing his Quirk-Be-Gone bullets and is ready to cause some mayhem okay?? That about sum it up?? Is anyone even reading this?? CAN WE JUST GET ON WITH IT I’VE WAITED AN ENTIRE WEEK.

Today on BnHA: Well I guess let’s start with what doesn’t happen: Bakugou doesn’t lose his quirk. HE LUCKED OUT!!... for now, anyways. Because, thanks to a near-impossible-to-predict series of events (seriously, raise your hands if you had “Aizawa gets shot but goes full World War Z on his own ass” on your bingo card), Tomura has seemingly regained his regeneration powers, which means that his other quirks are probably back online as well! So we’ll see how that all goes. Anyway so in the meantime Shouto’s back, looking very mad that everyone temporarily forgot he was a main character. And Gigantomachia is back as well! Or almost, anyway. Also, you’ll never guess who broke another one of his arms! Go on, guess. But at least he still has the arm, though, which is more than we can say for certain other people’s limbs. Poor Aizawa is literally on his last leg. He and Tomura really got off on the wrong foot. He chopped his leg off, is what I’m saying. It’s that kind of chapter folks.

you guys I’m losing my whole fucking mind. I straight up deleted the tumblr app off my phone for 24 hours so that I wouldn’t be tempted to log in and risk potentially being spoiled. and I’m happy to say that it worked! so here we are now, completely spoiler free, and let me just say that if Horikoshi decides to cut back to Gunga Mountain now, I will either cry for hours or abandon the series forever and go do something more productive with the rest of my quarantine like learning how to play sad songs on the guitar

all right. here goes

so we’re opening with Deku, who is currently comprised of 100% rage and 0% mercy, and is doing that thing where only the whites of his eyes are visible. and basically he’s just thinking “I’VE REALLY GOT TO HOLD ON TO THIS GUY AND MAKE SURE HE DOESN’T DO ANYTHING ELSE HOMICIDAL.” which is a solid game plan, but perhaps not so easily accomplished

-- oh my god this poor kid is still in denial, I can’t. why are you doing this

is there even still a Gran Torino to tend to at this point? after Tomura bulldozed a hole through his torso, and you went and finished the job with your own fucking attack? sob

but I guess the law of Tragic Shounen Mentor Deaths mandates that Gran’s should be at least as drawn-out as Nighteye’s was, though. so he’s probably only Mostly Dead, which is still Slightly Alive if I remember my Princess Bride correctly, and I think I do

so now the rest of these stooges are finally catching up with us here

yes, my friends. a bullet. WELCOME TO MY LIFE FOR THE PAST FUCKING WEEK. anyways I have a LOT of pent-up energy here just fyi. there may be a lot of unnecessary screaming in this recap

FUCKING WYOMING SMASH Y’ALLSSSS

I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT JUST HAPPENED SOB. DID HE JUST HAMMER FIST TOMURA’S HEAD INTO THE GROUND. DID HE SNAP HIS FUCKING NECK AT 100%. IN AN IDEAL WORLD HE WOULD HAVE JUST CHOPPED TOMURA’S ARMS OFF WHILE SOMEHOW MANAGING TO AVOID BREAKING ANY OF HIS OWN BONES IN THE PROCESS, BUT I HAVE A FEELING THIS SITUATION WILL NOT BE RESOLVED IN ANY KIND OF MANNER ONE WOULD CONSIDER “IDEAL”

(ETA: fun fact: this attack did absolutely nothing except make things approximately 100x worse. but you tried Deku. you tried.)

THE FUCK KIND OF PORTENTOUS BULLSHITTING TITLE IS THIS. OH MY GOD, I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT EMOTION I’M HAVING RIGHT NOW, IT’S JUST A LOT OF LOUD THOUGHTS

anyway so if you’re just joining us, Tomura just pulled two bullets out of his pocket, the good guys finally noticed, and then Deku did a smash and everything exploded. the radius of this attack actually looks wide enough to have potentially involved Aizawa, who probably does NOT want to get any debris in his eyes right now, and also Gran, who probably doesn’t particularly want to be hit by another deadly attack for the third time in the past ninety seconds. anyway so I guess what I’m trying to say here is WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THAT YOU LITTLE GREEN LUNATIC

AHHHHHH

he got the one!! the one that was in Tomura’s right hand!! but what about the one in his left ahhhhhhh

(ETA: lmao at Kacchan being the one to blow up the same bullet I was so sure he was going to be shot with. saw the writing on the wall, huh kid? what do we say to the god of foreshadowing?? ‘NOT TODAY.’ ...except that we’re still not actually out of the woods yet so you still better watch yourself lol.)

...

based on the font here, these are Tomura’s thoughts. which he is thinking immediately after getting the lower half of his jaw very painfully cronched by the VERY homicidal sixteen-year-old still clinging to him. anyway so Tomura’s thought processes are as inscrutable to me as ever lulz

and Deku’s arm looks broken again, yaaaaay. but at least it’s his left arm and not his right! so that’s nice. now they can match

[SHRIEKS]

HE YEETED IT. IT HAS BEEN YEETEDED. HE DID A YEET. [sobbing] he DiD a YeEt oH my GOD

DID IT HIT SOMETHING!?!?!?

my reading process here is as follows: 1) scroll down exactly one panel. 2) scream even though absolutely nothing has happened yet. 3) WRITE THAT DOWN 4) REPEAT

DKSFJLKHSDLGKHLI

DID IT HIT HIM!?!? DID IT GET HIM IN THE LEG SOB ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS. JUST LIKE THAT?? BOOM GUN BULLET LEG!!?

YOU GUYS IT REALLY HIT AIZAWA AND NO ONE DID A GODDAMN THING?? it wasn’t even drawn out or anything??? it just HAPPENED, within like four pages??? NO SLOW MO?? NOT EVEN A REACTION PANEL WHAT THE FUCK

son of a bitch I would so dearly like to grab Manual and RockLockRock’s heads right now and just conk them together real hard. YOU STUPID FUCKS sob YOU HAD ONE JOB!!! IT REALLY WAS JUST ONE!! AND YOU WERE SHARING IT!! SO IT’S MORE LIKE HALF A JOB!! AND YOU STILL COCKED IT UP IN ABSOLUTELY NO TIME AT ALL OH MY GOD

(ETA: they should blow this panel up and make it into a t-shirt and make Manual and RLR wear the shirts every day for the rest of their lives. half a job, you guys. please go away I cannot even look at you right now.)

FUCK MY EVERYTHING

(ETA: I still can’t figure out if this horrific angle is due to the earlier damage from the Noumu, or if Tomura really just flung the bullet THAT hard. honestly I’m surprised it didn’t just slice right through him with that kind of velocity. “no thanks because then I wouldn’t get to write a scene where he chops his own leg off” oh okay well when you put it that way, Horikoshi.)

if I recall correctly this is the leg that he said was “twisted”, no? yeesh. might just want to chop it off real quick, then. s’not like it’s doing you any more good. does anyone know if zombie rules apply or not with this sort of thing?? shit

?!?!

“THANKS”?? okay what. did it hit him or not??

-- oh my god WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT

I WAS -- I WAS JOKING I -- FFFFFFFFKJK

jesus fucking christ. when I said “might just want to chop it off real quick” literally FOUR PARAGRAPHS AGO, I can tell you that the one thing I did NOT expect was for Aizawa to be all, “you know what, that’s a good idea”, and then YOINK OUT HIS TRUSTY HERO SHANK AND GO FULL 127 HOURS ON THIS BITCH. "LALALA WE’RE GONNA DO IT RATIONALLY TEEHEE” like excuse me, the fuck

anyways. I don’t even know what to say. thank you Aizawa’s leg for your sacrifice, and for always supporting him. literally. oh my god I came here ready for my son to enter a new phase of character development, and for the manga as a whole to enter a new phase of glorious, glorious angst. no one told me I’d be sitting here making puns instead. what a fine, confusing day

anyway though let’s just fucking hope it worked. and side note, if Aizawa Shouta really did chop off his own fucking leg just now and somehow STILL managed not to fucking blink, I think we might as well just go ahead and hand him the Biggest Badass In The Series award right now because no one is ever going to top that. nope. not happening

it is truly a testament to Shigaraki Tomura’s unfathomably mysterious sexy villain energy that he still somehow manages to look hot with only half a face

also no one in this manga actually feels pain, do they. not Deku, not Aizawa, not Tomura, no one. no wonder none of them have any self-preservation instincts to speak of

um

did someone just randomly explode just now. at this point it might as well happen, right

oh it’s the shockwave from Deku’s Wyoming attack, apparently. how nice of it to have a delayed reaction for absolutely no reason

anyway so Deku’s being flung back, but he’s grabbing onto Tomura again with Blackwhip. but oh shit you guys, if Tomura escapes Deku and Ryuukyuu’s clutches and still has any bullets left in his pocket, we may still be able to salvage this Bakugou quirk situation after all. would be nice to be able to actually do something with all of these “happy quirk losing day” balloons that I ordered

(ETA: actually, believe it or not I honestly like this better. Tomura using AFO was always the more dramatic option anyway. and now that we’ve done the bullet thing everyone has presumably let their guard down again, which, good.)

I love how Tomura apparently hasn’t noticed that Aizawa’s just amputated his own leg? to be fair he’s probably distracted by all the explosions and such

also gotta love how Deku’s arm-breaking attack seemingly just made everything worse for no reason. and also how Manual and RockLockRock are once again just standing there doing absolutely nothing

SO NOW GUESS WHAT’S HAPPENING

I MEAN IT! GUESS. BECAUSE YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE LOL

OH WELL OKAY THEN

just like we all saw coming!! ...

so is this Endeavor’s attack?? Bakugou’s?? either way, hot damn. fortunately for Tomura he is apparently operating under the same guidelines as the U.S. Federal Reserve, in which mutilated bills may still be exchanged at face value if more than 50% of a note identifiable as United States currency is present. basically as long as roughly half of him is still vaguely Tomura-shaped I assume he’ll be fine

(ETA: in hindsight I should have immediately been able to identify this as a Shouto attack based solely on how murdery it was lol.)

OH MY GODDDD

KRANCH?!?

OH MY GOD LOL WHAT. LOL. REMEMBER EVERYONE’S THEORIES FROM LIKE TWENTY YEARS AGO LOL. SHOUTO WHAT THE FUCK. DID YOU STOP FOR DRIVE THRU

AND MEANWHILE DEKU’S BACK ON THE SCENE GIVING ARGUABLY EVEN LESS FUCKS THAN BEFORE, IF SUCH A THING IS EVEN POSSIBLE. SO FAR THIS CHAPTER HAS PRECISELY ZERO THINGS THAT I ACTUALLY EXPECTED IN IT, WHICH IS VERY IMPRESSIVE

IT ALSO HAS A LOT OF SMASHING

a LOT. of smashing, guys. feels like... 60% smashing, 20% severed legs, 20% Kranch

-- oh no oh SHIT oh shit oh shit

(ETA: um so I really can’t tell how far that wound extends and whether or not Aizawa still has his right eye, shit.)

first of all how did Deku get here next to Aizawa when he was just over there with Tomura, what. and second, I think Aizawa just blinked, oh shit. probably on the verge of passing out after CHOPPING HIS OWN LEG OFF which STILL hasn’t been acknowledged yet?? did I just completely misinterpret all of that back there or what

(ETA: there was seriously so little attention called to this that I scrolled back up to confirm it probably like half a dozen times. apparently Horikoshi thinks that THE MOST BADASS THING TO EVER HAPPEN IN THE MANGA should be completely downplayed. whereas if it were me, there’d be an entire two page spread of JUST THE LEG. WITH MUSIC PLAYING. EVEN THOUGH IT’S A MANGA.)

YEPPPPPPP. fuck

look at him though. he’s so happy. this is why I can’t stay mad at you no matter how deranged you get you little maniac

so is quirk-stealing back on the menu then or what. don’t think I’ve been lulled into any kind of false sense of security by any of this lol

-- ARE WE SERIOUSLY CUTTING AWAY

so Todoroki really went after them ALONE. the better to put his dad right back up at the top of the Lose Your Quirk Sweepstakes finalists. well... second-to-top, maybe. like I said I will not be lulled

yuh-oh

why do I feel like the odds of Gigantomachia arriving to herald the end of this chapter just shot up DRAMATICALLY

so the next page is almost entirely just a list of cities that the news anchor is telling people to evacuate because they’re in Machia’s path. along with a bunch of dead heroes lying around everywhere, and Ochako being all ominous

(: weren’t they, though? heh. this is going to be so, so bad (: (: (:

-- fuuuuuuuuuuu

aaaaaand that’s it. hahahaha. okay then let’s summarize

Bakugou defied all expectations and kept his quirk (FOR NOW)!

Aizawa cut his own fucking leg off and it WASN’T EVEN REMOTELY ACKNOWLEDGED FOR REASONS I CAN’T UNDERSTAND (R.I.P. AIZAWA’S PRECIOUS LEG. YOU ALWAYS PUT YOUR BEST FOOT FORWARD)

Kranch showed up after 157 years and is probably wondering why the heck I keep calling him “Kranch” now. THINGS CHANGE WHEN YOU’RE MIA FOR A WHILE MY LITTLE STARBUCKS CHRISTMAS CUP

Deku broke his arm for the 78th time

Tomura regenerated but seems to think Aizawa’s quirk is actually gone for good, which I’m pretty sure it’s not. so if they can keep him from destroying everything long enough for Aizawa to turn it back on again, we might possibly still survive this

and lastly, Machia is about to kill all of these stupid people frolicking around outside of this fitness club who are probably so proud of themselves for not being glued to their phones 24/7 because they prefer to LIVE LIFE IN THE MOMENT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. well that’s on you my friends. at least it’ll be a quick death. ffff

[spencersawkward]

mgg fluff!!! like maybe a super cute romantic date where you both dress up or something like that 🥺

I’ve been writing so much smut the idea of writing a scenario without sex is actually feeling foreign rn WOW lmao ok this was fun to write. here’s some fancy-date pure fluff for you, babe!

summary: Matthew takes reader out for a fancy dinner, and the two make the most of their evening together. 

word count: 2.1k

content warnings: none! short but sweet. 

I swipe the glossy red shade over my lower lip, touching up my makeup before we head out tonight. despite the fact that we’ve been dating for a few months now, the idea of Matthew taking me out to eat-- really taking me out-- is making me positively giddy.

capping the tube and doing a quick once-over in the mirror, I admire the dress I’m wearing. it’s new, something I may or may not have splurged on after work today. it’s a creamy, inky shade, the color of pitch with an open back that I would normally never deign to wear. but something about it, the way the fabric sits against my shoulder blades, makes me confident.

after fluffing up my hair a little, I move into the living room to join my boyfriend. he’s fixing one of his monogrammed cuff links, and he looks up at the sound of my footsteps.

his eyes run over me, the bloom of my mouth and the dress, and he smiles dreamily, not saying anything. my stomach is overflowing with butterflies as I look at him in his suit, so well-dressed. we stare at each other for a moment.

“so?” I grin, walking over to him and running my hands up his chest. “how do I look?”

“you...” his gaze flickers to my pout, then my form. “you’re an angel.”

I reach up and am about to kiss his cheek when I remember that I’ve got lipstick on. “I’ll kiss you later.”

“that’s fine,” he sighs, then takes my hand and spins me around in front of him. “I’m still in shock from how beautiful you are!” he says the last few words in his stupid monster voice, reaching out and tickling my sides while he pulls me into him.

“Matthew!” I squeal, trying to breathe through the laughter. he knows I’m especially ticklish. once he finally relents, I look up at him with a huge smile on my face. sometimes I feel like I’m dreaming with him.

“we’re gonna be late, baby.” he tugs on my earlobe playfully before taking my hand again and leading me into the entryway so we can put our coats on. winter is just starting, dusting the sidewalks with fluffy snow and blowing wind in our faces as we start walking to the car. he holds the door open, as usual, and before long, we’re off to the restaurant.

even though Matthew is a bit of a reckless driver, I trust him. I’ve never told him this, but I love the way he places his hand on the back of my seat and turns around to assess the road behind him before he pulls out. something about it makes my blood warm up. he catches me looking, smiles and asks if I’m okay.

I’m fucking fabulous.

the restaurant is way fancier than I even imagined: cavernous ceilings that drip with chandeliers and walls covered in expensive-looking art. velvet curtains cover the windows, creating a wine-red ambiance of jazz and gentle conversation.

I must look dumb just staring at everything, but Matthew goes to the maitre d’ and gets our reservation ready. we never go on dates this fancy; most of the time, we stay in and binge watch old movies or play board games or just talk. he said he wanted to treat me, though, so I’m more than happy to go along with it.

part of me feels slightly out-of-place as the host leads us to a secluded table, walking past rich-looking couples or groups of people who appear to be socialites. as much as I wish I could blend in with this crowd, I keep worrying that I’m going to trip or somehow break something. elegant situations tend to make me especially clumsy.

once we’re seated and handed our menus, the host leaves us to talk.

“wow.” my eyebrows raise as I check out the options. Matthew looks up.

“what?”

“this place is fancy.” the corners of my mouth tug upwards. some of the items are in French, which makes the process even harder to untangle.

“too much?” he’s a bit wary as he asks, like he’s afraid I don’t like it.

“no, no.” I laugh. “I’m just impressed.”

“you wanna get a bottle of wine?” he asks softly, grabbing the wine menu. I nod.

“sounds good.” I think for a second. “do you happen to speak French?”

“dónde está el baño?” he jokes. before I can stop myself, I reach over the table and hit his arm, both of us laughing. it must be a bit too loud, because a couple people around us turn their heads. I settle back in my seat.

“that wasn’t funny.” I’m giggling.

“I wish I knew French.” he muses, still perusing the wine selection. I sigh.

“honestly, me, too. very sophisticated.”

“are we supposed to pair our wine with our food?” he whispers over the table.

“you think I know the protocol for this kind of place?” I hiss back.

“you know, what? who cares?” he sets down the menu and gives me a resigned smile. Matthew has always been uninhibited, and him deciding to just go with the flow gives me a warm feeling in my tummy. it’s one of the most attractive things about him, in my opinion.  

when the waiter comes to take our orders, Matthew and I just get a merlot and filet mignon, both of us starving. in the meantime, we talk about his day and my day and he tells a funny story about his friend. somehow, he and I always have the best conversations, even if they’re about nothing at all.

literally you could ask us to discuss paint drying and we’d find a way to laugh about it.

“I was thinking... I’m gonna have a vacation soon,” he trails off, the antique ring on his pinky finger clinking against his wine glass. “maybe we could go somewhere?”

“somewhere like...?” I gesture for him to keep talking. he grins.

“you can decide. as long as it’s fun.”

“what? no, you can’t put that pressure on me, Matthew.” I laugh. there are so many places I want to see, and places that I know he wants to see, that I don’t wanna pick the wrong place.

“why not?”

“well, let’s do this,” I sit up more, resting my elbows on the table. the candle in the middle of the table flickers, casting his features in a pretty glow. “you list some places you’d like to visit, and if there’s some overlap, we’ll do that.”

“okay.” he rubs his hands together, then starts to think about it. I wait patiently, sip my wine and start to imagine how many possibilities there are for us. hiking along mountain trails, zip-lining through rainforests. if I’m being honest, I kind of just want to relax.

he breaks my train of thought as soon as he begins to tack off places.

“we could go to Costa Rica, or Croatia, or Mauritius... the Azores...”

“oooh, you know, I’ve heard the Azores are absolutely gorgeous.” my eyes sparkle as I think about the little islands. “and they’ve got these super nice hot springs, too.”

“private hot springs?” he asks me over the rim of his glass. my spine tingles with the implication.

“you wanna fuck in a hot spring?” I almost laugh. he reaches across the table and twines his fingers with mine, thumb rubbing over the back of my hand softly.

“I wanna do it on every continent.” he winks, then pulls away as our food arrives. I try to suppress the heat rushing to my cheeks and regain my composure even though my entire nervous system feels like it’s short-circuiting at the thought.

I try to put those images out of my mind before we thank the waiter, and then we’re staring down at the plates in front of us with surprise. the portions are ridiculously small-- mignon usually isn’t that big, but it’s such a fancy-restaurant-move.

Matthew and I start to giggle to ourselves, picking up our forks and eating. I’m not upset or anything; it’s sort of funny. instead, we share asparagus and dig into the meal.

“do you think they’ll be mad at us for laughing at the nickel-sized food?” I question. it’s really tasty, to be fair, but I have to take small bites so as not to mess up my lipstick.

“for the amount they’re charging, they’re probably the ones laughing.” he replies. I snort, reach up, and he high-fives me.

“that was good.” I concede.

“thanks,” he smiles, wipes his mouth with a napkin before focusing back on me. “so, back to the topic at hand-- are we going to the Azores?”

“only if you want to.” I smile.

“I’m the one that suggested it.”

“okay, then. I guess it’s settled.” I shrug. we set our forks down, done with our food already after about twenty minutes. we start to talk logistics and things we want to do there, excitement building in my stomach the whole time. I love spending time with Matthew-- having him all to myself for a couple weeks sounds like literal paradise.

he looks so pretty right now, too, with his glasses and fluffy hair and the ever-present smile. everything about him exudes positive energy, and I’ll never get over that sensation. I just can’t believe how lucky I am.

“I have an urgent question.” he tells me suddenly, completely serious. I straighten up and frown at him.

“shoot.”

“do you think we can get ice cream? somewhere else?” he asks. I make a face at the way he set me up for suspense, but the relief is overwhelming and my stomach still isn’t full from the small filet. I nod quickly.

he gets the waiter’s attention, pays, and before I know it, we’re walking back to the car.

“thank you.” I nudge his shoulder with my own, both of us bundled up in our coats. he leans down to kiss the top of my head before wrapping his arm around me.

“of course, darling.”

I like his little pet names, how he says them with the kind of sweetness that nearly rots my teeth. even if Matthew didn’t tell me he loved me every day, I would be able to tell just from the way he speaks. like I’m the only girl in the world.

we end up driving to a small ice cream shop by our home, a place that we always visit during the summer if it gets hot and we want sugar. there’s almost nobody inside and we look sort of absurd in our fancy attire, but when I get to the counter to order, I let loose.

salted caramel with oreo crumbles in a waffle cone, piled high. he gets chocolate fudge and we lick at our confections while he pays. it’s so yummy, hitting the spot in a way that a small slice of steak just couldn’t. even though it’s winter, ice cream is always good.

“is my lipstick all gone?” I grin, looking up from my cone to ask. we go to sit in the back room of the shop, which is completely empty.

“mostly, but there’s a little bit...” he grabs my face across the table and guides me to him, sliding his tongue over my lower lip and pulling away to smirk. “got it.”

“uh huh.” I chuckle.

“you taste sweet.”

“you wanna lick?” I offer my cone and he nods, trying it before offering me his own.

“literally how is ice cream so good?” I ask as we go back to our treats. music from the 50′s is playing over the speakers, delightfully saccharine as we just enjoy each other’s presence.

“no idea. but I love the person who invented it.” he says dreamily. “also, sorry about tonight. I know it was kind of a bust.”

“what?” I stop eating for a second. “Matthew, that wan’t a bust!”

“the portions were so small.” he can’t get over this. I snicker to myself.

“sure, but I had a great time.”

“are you sure? I can plan something else special for us.” he gives me puppy dog eyes, afraid that I’m disappointed. I could never be disappointed by a date with him.

“don’t worry about that. let me do the work next time.” I shrug.

“like?”

“like I’ll make an itinerary for our trip. that way you don’t have to stress about activities.”

“you and your itineraries.” he shakes his head slowly, but he’s laughing.

“have they ever failed?” I ask, then tap my finger to my ear as if daring him to reply. when he just smirks in response, I get smug. “that’s what I thought.”

“I love you.” the words come out of nowhere, a heavy sentiment for a light-hearted conversation. every time he says it, I feel it. that deep, burning adoration in my bones. I admire him for a moment.

“I love you, too.”

[sophi-s]

Cost of Kindness

Chapter IV: Complications

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 6,656

Characters: Raphael, Original Female Character (OC), Fury

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Swearing (a lot of it XD)

Summary:

After far too many close calls and an adventure that will last her a lifetime, Nicola and Raphael finally make their way towards Haven. Unfortunately, not everything goes as smoothly as it could.

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Many, many centuries ago taking off to the grand skies has become one of humanity's greatest dreams. They always wished to be able to fly, envying birds their wings and wishing to join them in their aerial conquest. It took many more ages to even try to think of it seriously and even longer for the humans to create the first working airplane and fulfill their dreams as the gravity kept thwarting all their plans. But once this seemingly impossible goal was accomplished, this event has been recorded on the pages of history as one of the most remarkable inventions of the human race.

When she was little, Nicola dreamed of flying on her own as well. She loved watching birds, tracking the planes soaring through the sky, so far away they looked like ants, and thinking about how it would be to have her own wings. Her dreams eventually were abandoned as she grew older, more serious and more reasonable. But honestly, if a week ago someone asked her if she would choose to have wings if she could, Nicola without hesitation would reply "a huge YES". Now however, she realised something she didn't really take into consideration before. While humans wished to rule the skies, they absolutely were not created for this. They have been made flightless, earth-ridden creatures and for a good reason. Her very apparent fear of heights made it awfully clear to her.

These thoughts were all Nicola could hear aside from the rustling of feathers on the wind as she desperately held onto her angel friend, her heart hammering in her chest, eyes wide and stomach making somersaults while everything was spinning around like a carousel. At a certain height the human body just starts to give up and refuse cooperation. For those who are afraid of heights the gap is even smaller and the symptoms more severe. All that was keeping her from fainting or throwing up there and then was the fact that she refused to look down to see how high they actually were but imagining the small buildings below her wasn't making it much better. If she survives this, she will never ask any angel for a fly again and - if it will ever be possible after the apocalypse - stay the heck away from any sort of working plane. Ground was where she belonged. Flying was not her cup of tea and no one will ever convince her otherwise.

Raphael seemed oblivious to the silent prayers spilling past her lips and just kept flying, fully focused on his destination, as she was absolutely certain she's going to die. Her muscles were completely stiff, as though she looked Medusa in the eye. She couldn't even see anything with how her face was buried in the rumpled fabric of Raphael's clothes but she assumed they were getting closer and closer. Focus on anything else than the height. Anything! She kept telling herself when her jaw started to hurt from how she was clenching her teeth. Easier said than done. Nicola knew that Raphael wasn't going to drop her. He promised her and lately she learned to trust him but the pull of gravity beckoning her down into the abyss and to a long plummet ending in a painful impact and certain death… The last time she was this panicked was when the Fallen jumped her out of nowhere. Speaking of which… God, please, let this be a smooth flight. No demons, I'm begging you..

Encounter with stray demons was the last thing they needed now. She didn't doubt Raphael's ability to defend both her and himself but if a flying demon was to attack them from surprise… Not a single part of her already malfunctioning brain could produce a scenario that wouldn't end in either of them dying or at least suffering grave injuries. In short words, any sort of aerial confrontation would mean serious trouble. And trouble wasn't something Nicola missed. Especially after the last night..

Seems like her prayers have been answered. So far nothing noticed an angel and a human passing overhead. And those demons which did apparently decided not to bother them since it didn't seem worth it or had no way of giving them trouble from where they were standing. Nicola stopped counting seconds of their journey long ago and the only indication of the passing time was the wind rushing through her hair slowing down as Raphael started to try and spare as much energy as he could, gliding whenever possible on his wings simply stretched out on both sides and flapping them only to keep the right height, out of range of any demons that could be sulking below when he began to grow weary. His stamina wasn't probably in the best condition after the time he spent in hiding and most likely not moving much.

When she gets back to Haven, Nicola is going to first, eat a solid lunch since her stomach was displeased again - though now she couldn't really feel it twisted in panic like that - second, go the fuck to sleep for the rest of the day. Even though she spent the last night sleeping like a dead woman, she didn't feel that well rested. The amount of stress she had to endure exhausted her and a few hours of rest weren't enough to regenerate her full strength. High on her bucket list was also taking care of Raphael, to at least make him look decent and dress any wounds he carried. Elanya could do that too but Nicola couldn't imagine that Raphael would let a maker he doesn't know do anything to him. She remembered how distrustful he was in the beginning. And after she gets back, no more escapades if not necessary. At least two weeks long break. Ulthane is going to make sure she stays there anyway so she might as well spend her time on sleeping and some light activities. 

Speaking of Ulthane… Nicola wasn't actually sure what she'd say to him once she suddenly showed up in Haven after all that time with a traumatized, crazy angel at her side. To say it will be awkward as heck, would be a severe understatement. It's not even about Raphael. How is she going to explain herself to the overbearing maker who is standing on his head to save the last survivors of her kind while, by nearly killing herself three times already, she acted nothing if not ungrateful? And honestly, she wasn't in shape to wonder about it now because her mind refused to focus on anything else than this one thought of the lethal distance between her and the ground. Damn it all.. Why does she have to be afraid of heights and find out this very unpleasant way? Really, if someone tried to take her from Raphael before he landed or too short time after, they'd probably need a crowbar to pry her off him.

While Nicola thought that the flight itself was awful, the moment her stomach seemed to move up into her gullet as Raphael dipped towards the ground she unwittingly shrilly cried out in fear. And that was a mistake. The angel, startled by the quiet human he'd been holding this entire time suddenly screaming bloody murder for no apparent reason, tried to halt his descent to figure out what's wrong but it was already too late for that. As a result the landing was rather rough. Nicola closed her eyes and so she didn't see how Raphael clumsily hit the ground and barely kept himself propped up not to land on top of her as she slipped out of his grasp and lost her grip on his robes. The expectations of a long fall made her throat tighten and trap her voice inside. All the bigger relief once after barely an inch or two, her back connected with the surface, drawing a soft and strained "oof" from her.

Still scared, disoriented and confused, Nicola opened her eyes to see wide-eyed Raphael hunched over her, hands on either side of her head - with the staff to her left - and gawking at  her with a slight panic on his face. Goodness, he was way too close. Pulling her arms close to her body in a helpless attempt to regain her personal space, she smiled awkwardly.

"H-hi there!"

The moment he saw that nothing was wrong and her face regained some of its color, Raphael breathed with relief and got off her, once again offering his hand to help her up. Once back on her feet, Nicola nearly cried out when she felt the solid ground under the soles of her boots. Blessed earth, she could literally kiss it right now. But the fact that they were not in Haven yet disconcerted her a little. Looking around, she noticed they're in an empty street in the middle of nowhere. Casting a questioning glance at Raphael she didn't even need to ask. The way his wings were slumped against his back, his breath heavier than before said it all. Plain and simple, Raphael was tired. Too tired to keep going. Still, he was eyeing her cautiously.

"Why… why were you screaming?"

Still feeling the nausea and the shaking of her knees, Nicola scratched the back of her neck and turned her eyes away ashamed.

"Ahuh… I'm not-... I'm not used to flying, that dip scared me a little. Sorry about this.."

Raphael said nothing to this, simply nodded, and lowered himself to the dusted road to have a seat by one of the decrepit stores. Nicola decided to let him have his five minutes to rest before going any further. Store. She suddenly realised. And not just any. A grocery store. At the mere thought her stomach rumbled. Not only could she have something for herself but also gather some stuff for others! If anything there is still edible that is. It wouldn't hurt to check. Every bit of food is precious.

"Raphael, can you wait here for a bit? I'll be back in a jiffy."

Out of the corner of her eye she already saw him shift in apprehension and almost begin to stand up. Probably because she ran once already and in his mind could do it again. She proceeded to calm him down immediately by pointing at the building she intended to search.

"I'll just go in there to look for stuff, don't worry. I will come back."

Staring at her for a couple of intense seconds, Raphael eyed her from head to toe twice before his concerned gaze softened a bit.

"Promise me…?"

Nicola smiled reassuringly and nodded. There weren't many options for her if she did want to run off. Besides, she wasn't quite sure where she was just yet. Her orientation in terrain was… less than decent as of late.

"I promise."

She offered and once Raphael sat somewhat comfortably back down, she took her backpack and shotgun - just in case - and stepped in through a broken window. The inside of the store was in utter disarray and even that was putting it lightly. Most of the shelves were toppled over, some even in pieces. Glinting shards of glass littered the floor, crunching under Nicola's feet every time she made a step. Unsurprisingly, nothing was working. No lights, no freezers, no ventilation. No time to waste. Nicola began her search immediately.

Approaching the fruit stand greeted her with bitter disappointment. Apples, oranges, pears and many other fruits were already rotten and sometimes even coated in white specks of mould. Definitely not good. With vegetables it was exactly the same. The only carrot that looked acceptable at first, turned out to have been completely wilted. Tossing it aside, Nicola moved on. She didn't even bother looking for meat. The stench hit her the moment she came inside and were it not for the smell of decomposing corpses that drifted around the sewers when she was there, she probably would've thrown up where she stood. Instead, she just covered her mouth and nose with her bandana.

Any dairy products were off the table too. Without working freezers every single one of them has surely gone sour by now. A diarrhea was not something she wanted to have in Haven and most likely neither did the makers. Nicola didn't dare to so much as touch any eggs that still were somehow intact. Bad idea. A smelly one as well. There's no way some of them haven't gone bad yet. The risk wasn’t worth it. Passing by one of the mostly whole shelves, she absent mindedly grabbed a bag of dry cat food and stuffed it into her backpack. It was highly probable that most of the survivors would be feeding the kitten with any leftovers but.. just to make sure the poor thing doesn't starve to death.

Most of the jars have broken during initial earthquakes but two small jars of pickles seemed to be mostly alright. Without giving it much thought, she placed them in her backpack. Four bags of freeze-dried fruits quickly found their way into her pockets once she got a hold of them. Under a broken shelf, Nicola spotted an edge of some packet. Assuming it was just crackers or something, she reached into the rubble for it but once she pulled it out… she immediately regretted her decision. It was, in fact, not a bag of crackers. It was a whole, torn bag of soured cabbage coated in some strange growth - probably mould - she didn't get a chance to really look at because her attention was caught by something inside the bag. Probably squeezed in through the tear and got stuck, a small, bloated body of a gigantic, hellish critter. Instinctively, Nicola yelped quietly and without giving it much thought she lobbed the thing across the whole store before wiping her hand on the nearest piece of rag that wasn't her clothes. She didn't even get any of the spilling juices on her but… gross. Just gross. Ew ew ew! Ignoring the wet splat the bag made when it hit the floor wasn't an easy task. Still shaking off the disgust, she continued her search, noting to herself never to touch something she isn't sure what it is.

From there it thankfully was starting to go much smoother. Two packets of crispbread, some dark chocolate and a box of tea were found and collected. Nicola nearly cheered out loud when she spotted a few Snickers on a shelf. One she immediately opened and eagerly ate while the rest landed safely in her backpack. It might be mostly sugar with a bit of peanuts but it was a good snack that could deceive the brain for quite some time. To be frank, Nicola lived half of the high school on those whenever her lessons lasted too long for her breakfast to keep her sated. Besides, she couldn't imagine others would mind her bringing a bunch. Especially Marie. Jacob will most likely strangle Nicola if his daughter eats too much sweets but in the end it'll be worth it. Anything would be worth putting a smile on that sad little face.

Somewhere on the floor, Nicola even found a box of vitamins which luckily was not out of date yet. With a deficit of fruits and vegetables, those could be lifesavers. Especially for Leslie. She needs the most of it. Unfortunately, the space in her backpack was very much limited and soon she couldn't put anything more in there. Rearranging the contents of it, she put in one bottle of water, careful not to crush the crispbread and chocolate. At least she found something. Her escapade wasn't all for nothing when it comes to supplies. But even without those, she wouldn't say she regrets it. Against all the odds, she lived. And most importantly, she gained an otherworldly friend. And in times like these, a friend is something to be treasured.

Slinging her now much heavier backpack on her shoulders, she picked up her gun and headed towards the broken window she used as an entrance before. Peeking out from the store, she saw Raphael where she'd left him and a very much awake cat playfully attacking the longest quill of his left wing. His head perked up when she dropped onto the sidewalk beneath the window and she could've sworn she'd seen the corner of his mouth twitch upwards for a second there. Smiling, she unfolded her hands and shrugged.

"See? I keep my promises."

The angel hummed quietly before leaning his head against the wall behind him and closing his eyes. Nicola was about to ask if he's good to go but let the thought perish when she noticed his eyebrows furrow and his chapped lips twist into a slight grimace. Soon after, his right hand wandered up to his chest as he took a couple of quick and shallow breaths through his clenched teeth. If Nicola didn't know any better, she'd have said Raphael was having a heart attack. Can an angel even have an infarct? She honestly had no idea. In fact, she didn't even know how old he is. She couldn't tell. All the angels she'd met so far had white hair so that's not a hint to go by and his face didn't necessarily look old or young. He seemed as ageless as the time itself. Still, she didn't want to take any chances.

"Raphael? What's wrong?!"

She asked as she crouched beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder to steady him if needed. Raphael simply slowly shook his head and turned to look at her tiredly. And in his blank eyes she saw the already familiar pain and a spark of a silent plea.

"Just a little longer.. Let me rest a while…"

It took everything Nicola had in her to stop the sigh of relief. It didn't sit right with her that Raphael was still suffering and she could do absolutely nothing about it but hearing he's mostly fine, with only the usual ailing him, made her feel a tad easier. When his breathing grew slower and calmer, she even let herself slip down to the floor beside him.

"Sure. We have time, I guess.."

It was still relatively early, barely an hour or two after noon and Nicola wasn't that eager to return into the sky so soon. Only thinking about it made her feel a little sick. Hopefully, it wasn't too far to Haven from here. Even though Nicola really wanted to finally get home, she decided to be patient with her companion. He was wounded and most likely ill but he still tried his best to help her, even though he hadn't known her that long. He deserves a moment. Nicola too needed to sit down for a second as her thigh was still a bloody nuisance. Just a few more minutes. It wouldn't do harm to have a little break now, would it?

Yes. Yes it would. Nicola suddenly realised when she saw the kitten arc its back and puff its tail out. It hisses loudly before scurrying away into the store she just left and soon enough Nicola realised why once she looked into an alley ahead of her. The sight of a massive, winged shape made it painfully obvious. Her heart nearly ceased and Raphael beside her tensed at the sight of an enormous demon with curved horns and teeth, each the size of her palm, resembling a set of barbed knives made specifically to cut meat. The edges of long healed wounds that left behind terrible scars on her abdomen began to itch as she gawked at the familiar monster that nearly took her life. Flapping of gigantic wings that covered the sky with its expanse… Razor sharp claws curling around her body… the same talons tearing into her flesh as Ulthane attempted to free her from its grasp. And this shriek… oh God, this shriek…

Despite the apparent pain and exhaustion, Raphael slowly - not to agitate the demon - got up to his feet and raised his wings threateningly as he stepped in front of aghast Nicola. The fact that due to its bulkiness this thing seems almost twice as large as he is doesn't make an impression on him. Or maybe it does but he doesn't show it. The Fallen stared at Raphael with its small red eyes as a pair of Phantom Guards rounded a corner and joined the beast. Each carried a jagged blade that could easily tear through angelic armor. Nicola had seen it happen. Following them was another bloody Goreclaw. But these three she barely even noticed. Her wide eyes were focused on the larger demon. She felt her muscles refuse cooperation and seize. She couldn't move, couldn't speak. Her mind repeatedly screamed No nono no NO! Not like this!!

With excited roars, the lesser demons charged towards the angel standing between them and the weak, pathetic and helpless human as the Fallen spread its wings and took off into the air. Even as Nicola kept stone still, Raphael remained sharp and ready to act as always. One spell spilled past his lips and the flying demon instantly went rigid before plummeting back onto the ground and crashing into a broken car, setting its annoying alarm off. It didn't discourage the other three but it let Nicola find will to move and clutch her gun tighter. Ever since she'd met Raphael, he'd been doing nothing but getting her arse out of trouble. Taking a shaky breath she decided to start repaying favors.

Though, once again she didn't really have a chance to do anything as she was dumbstruck by the following scene playing out before her. As the hellish monsters charged, Raphael took his staff in both hands and held it before himself, closing his eyes and muttering an incantation in his melodious language. The moment the first demon stepped a tad too close, Raphael's eyes snapped open, burning like two white suns and a sleek ethereal blade materialized from the tip of what Nicola previously thought just an ornament or a walking cane. It glowed like the purest light ever to exist. Another assumption Nicola made about Raphael turned out to have been false. The last thing she can say about him is unarmed. He carried no blade, no gun or anything but who needs a weapon as lame as those when in addition to powerful sorcery you have a freaking lightsaber?

Everything lasted less than a second as the angel led a wide, sweeping slash of his spectral sword… spear thing… and promptly relieved the Phantom Guard of its horned head, before stopping the pouncing Goreclaw with a flick of his free hand, suspending it in the air growling and hissing. The other Phantom Guard had no chance to either attack the vulnerable angel or retreat, when Raphael was busy cutting down the quadrupedal demon, as Nicola came back to her senses and, instead of running like she always has, jumped forward and fired her shotgun. The resounding bang travelled through the entire city, bouncing off the walls and drifting far into the desolate town but it had the effect Nicola counted on.

The Phantom Guard staggered backwards with a chest full of buckshot, wheezed a couple times and tripped over onto its back never to get up again. With adrenaline still pumping through her veins, Nicola stared at the either dead or dying demon in wonderment, her brain trying to process what just happened, before releasing a breathless laugh of triumph. She killed one. She actually killed one! Raphael too seemed rather surprised but not unpleasantly so as he let the blade fade away.

"I got it! Did you see that?!"

"That indeed, I have.."

He said as he eyed her carefully, probably just to check if she's fine. Aside from a little fresh blood on his boots and hands, Raphael didn't seem to have gotten hurt in any way. Well… more than he'd already been at least. Nicola beamed up at him nearly bursting with pride at her actual first kill on a demon larger than her shin. And he seemed happy for her, if the soft smile he regarded her with could be an indication. But this victory didn't last long. Her own smile faded when she saw the Fallen stiffly getting up from where it slammed onto the ground, pure rage on its monstrous face. Her pulse began to race again but this time she refused to let the panic get a hold of her just yet.

"Watch out!!"

She cried too late, just a sliver of a second too late. Raphael whipped around to face the attacker and all he managed to do was raise his hand before the charging demon swung its head to the left. And with the force of a truck driving at the speed of fifty miles per hour, slammed it into the angel, making a formula of a spell die on his lips as he was sent flying through the air and crashing against a nearby building. The force of the impact caved in the wall and the kind, mad angel disappeared in a cloud of dust. All that was left were a couple of white feathers slowly falling to the ground.

"NO!"

Nicola didn't pay any mind to how her voice broke and squeaked pitifully when her heart leaped up into her throat. She could only stare at the place where Raphael vanished with a rumbling crash as the enraged demon growled in the same direction. Not a single part of her being agreed with what she'd just witnessed. A second before he was standing right there, like nothing was about to happen, distracted by her gushing over her first serious kill. Nothing should have happened, why did the demon unravel Raphael's magic just like that? Even a Shadowcaster didn't manage to do that! Why would this one? And why… Tears welled up in her eyes as her lower lip trembled… why did it have to… end the way it did…?

To make matters worse, the Fallen was still before her, still furious and thirsting for blood. Not wasting more time, Nicola pulled out a handful of new bullets and tried to reload her weapon but it proved almost impossible with how much her hands were shaking. Thank Christ, the demon was taking its sweet time as it faced her and began to lumber towards her on all fours, huffing out breaths stinking of rotting meat. Faster, faster, damn it! Nicola cursed inwardly when she dropped a couple of shells before she finally managed to place the ammunition where it should be. But when she looked up, the Fallen was on top of her already. Parting its jaws wide, ready to swallow her whole.

The scream of anguish that felt so tempting in the back of her throat never came to be. In a second, Nicola thought about all the horrors she'd lived through. All demons she'd met, all shambling corpses of former humans brought back by vile sorcery. All friends she'd made and lost.. Raphael, do just one thing for me. She gritted her teeth as her knuckles turned white from how she was gripping her weapon. Despair started to turn into rage. Burning bright and white hot inside of her, the flame Raphael had helped her see. Please, be alive when I come for you… The demon lunged forward to sever the string of her measly life by biting her in half. But Nicola wasn't going to let it get her so easily. Her fear was forgotten as she stuck the barrel of her shotgun into the monster's opened maw. She didn't want to die. Not now, not like this. For once she wanted to have a say over her own fate. Over the date of her demise. She is still young, she had a whole life ahead of her. And all those demonic dickheads with the Destroyer leading the charge decided to ruin everything and not only for her, but for every human who lives still and who has perished. And those who are yet to be born. She refused. She will not die. Not here. Not killed by that thing.

"FUCKOFF!!!"

And she fired. Partially, the sound was muffled by the demon's mouth snapping shut just barely missing Nicola's arms as she let go of her gun. The Fallen recoiled and began to shriek in pain, spitting out its own blood onto the concrete at its feet. Nicola didn't have delusions she could kill it but it gave her the precious seconds she needed. She ran for the closest hiding place available, which was the store she just left. Nicola leaped in through the broken window and quickly made it to the opposite wall to put as much distance between herself and the writhing monstrosity as possible. And it was a good choice.  A loud roar from the street made her heart fall into her heels as the injured demon finally gathered its bearings.

Nicola looked at the Fallen that was coming her way with murder in its eyes. The unexpected bout of courage has long faded and the petrifying fear once again had Nicola in its chilling grasp. Even with the mouthful of bullets, the Fallen did not intend to give up on its prey. And here she hoped it would piss off if she fed it with lead… Snarling and panting, the demon approached the broken window with its own blood pouring from between its sharp fangs. It only added to the menacing image of the beast that had Nicola trembling and frozen.

Think, Nicola, THINK! What can she do against an opponent far bigger, stronger and more dangerous than a single human without a weapon? The Fallen was trying to fit through the window, reaching out with its clawed paw to try and get her. Nicola looks around in panic, looking for anything that could save her. In a grocery store. Good luck. Eventually, she says "fuck it" and grabs a most likely rancid egg. The laughably small projectile splatters over the face of the demon with a squelch and even from far away Nicola is sure this egg was definitely rotten. Even the Fallen stops for a second to shake the disgusting goop off of its head but before it's done, another egg flies through the air and cracks on its head, just as stinky as the previous one.

"How'd ya, like that, asshole?! Wanna have some more?!"

Nicola yells at the demon, holding yet another egg, fully prepared to just chuck it at the monster. Unfortunately, all she managed to do was piss it off even further as its efforts in reaching her doubled. Pieces of plaster and bricks were coming loose as the demon tried to wriggle into the shop to finally kill that annoying pest lobbing small, smelly things at it. As a result, an egg once again hit the demon while Nicola kept shouting out profanities that probably made her poor mother toss and turn in her grave. She's not going down without a fight, even if the said fight is done by throwing eggs and all the gross shit she found on the floor. But she knew she isn’t getting out of this one.

And so, this is it. Nicola couldn't believe she would die by the claws of the same creature that nearly killed her once before. Was Ulthane rescuing her only delaying the inevitable? What a sick joke… Why does fate insist on being cruel? There was so much she wanted to say, so many apologies she had to give… so little time… There was nothing she could do. At least… she will see Nicholas again.. her parents and every friend she'd lost in this cursed apocalypse. A miracle would've been nice. A tiny one. Just this once. Please?

And boy, did she get her wish. A sudden force violently tearing the Fallen out of the shop nearly startled her out of her dirty and tattered jeans. Hardly believing her eyes, she watched as her would-be killer screeched in rage and surprise when it was wrenched free from the ruined window and was gone from her vision. A sudden tremor shook the whole building, sending small bits of debris raining down on her head as a mighty roar reverberated through her very bones. But it wasn't the Fallen. It was something meaner. Something… Nicola swallowed thickly at the thought… bigger. Or at least as large as this fucker. Then came clacking of metal, ungodly screeching of the demon. A second later Nicola saw as it was flung through the air like a sack of potatoes and crashed against a block of flats. Instant karma. She thinks with bitter satisfaction when she remembers what that faggot did to Raphael. I need to somehow get to him. Honestly though, she doesn't really want to know what managed to just YEET a Fallen like a skipping rock.

Unfortunately, she finds out and finds out quite soon. From her hideout, she sees an enormous creature, nearly as big as the demon that threatened her, charging towards the stunned monster still bleeding from its mouth. If Nicola had been terrified of the Fallen, then she was on the verge of having a straight out SCA after seeing this chunk of a behemoth. Whatever this thing was, it was the size of an average tree. Its armored hide was burning with red and white flames which were enveloping twin jagged, metal whips it held in its hands. Vestigial wings were trembling with wrath as it turned its radiant white eyes at the battered demon. Between a pair of sweeping horns that crowned its head was a flickering blaze that flared with each step the monstrosity took towards its quarry. Right.. What's the best way to get rid of a monster? Sic a stronger monster on it. The Fallen shrugged off and growled at its new assailant, challenging it to a fight.

While the two beasts were circling one another, battling she couldn't even guess what for, Nicola braced for what was to come. This is a horrible idea. Breath in and breath out. In and out. And when the Fallen pounced at its attacker, she bolted. Not stopping, she ran. Through the street the demons were fighting on, past them - so close she could feel the heat radiating off of the newcomer - and into the building Raphael disappeared in. Nicola hoped she was ready for what she was about to find. She really did. Jumping in through the punched in wall however, she soon found out she was, in fact, not ready. The moment she entered, she immediately caught the sight that made something squeeze inside of her.

On a pile of rubble from the destroyed wall was Raphael coated in dust. Still. Not moving, his mesmerising white eyes shut. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh God, oh NO! Not thinking, all fear and uncertainty she ever felt in his presence was long cast away, Nicola rushed over to him pleading, begging everything that would listen for him to be alive. Don't leave me here like this… Dropping at his side into the rubble, Nicola lays her ear on the top of his chest and doesn't let herself relax until she hears a heartbeat and a shallow breath within. Words cannot describe how much she deflated once she did. He's still alive.. but he doesn’t look good.

"Raphael! Please say something! Can you hear me?!"

Thankfully, angel's eyes lolled open as she spoke to him, hinting that he indeed can hear her. Trying his best to keep his unfocused gaze on her face, Raphael furrowed his eyebrows and lifted his upper lip in a pained sneer as his hand wandered up to clutch at his side where the demon's heat struck him.

"Nnn… Nnii… co…"

He weakly attempted to speak but without much success. No joke, he must've hit his head really hard and she dreaded to think about the state of his ribcage.. But hey! At least he hears and understands what Nicola is saying. And it's a good sign.. right…? Wasting no more time, Nicola helped him sit up, keeping her hand on his forehead to steady him as his own palm rested over hers. Even squinting in pain, Raphael kept looking at her, as though she was the only point of focus he could think of.

"Hang in there, okay?! Please, Phel.. We'll be fine…"

Liar. Something snaps at her. They're pretty much defenseless and vulnerable with a very livid demon still threatening them. One or the other will come out victorious. And to the victor go the spoils… Raphael tried to say something but still couldn't formulate words properly due to the splitting headache pulsing through his entire skull. Though even through ringing in his head and pain in his chest that somehow rivaled the one he constantly felt, he found something in this human's words that baffled him. In her panic, Nicola doesn't catch a puzzled look he sends her way.

Phel?

A choked up cry of a dying demon made them both jump a little and look out through the hole Raphael made when the demon gored him. Just in time to see the flaming beast standing on top of the Fallen and strangling it with its whips. Then, the creature of… quite blatantly feminine curves gave one sharp tug and the demon's head was brutally severed from the rest of its body. And everything fell silent.

Instinctively, Nicola halted her breath and ceased any movement, watching the winner (Nicola felt fully comfortable with calling it per "she" now) shoot a glance towards her and Raphael who by this point tiredly laid his head on her shoulder, heaving in attempts to draw a proper breath. The creature approached slowly, keeping Nicola frozen in place and desperately holding onto her injured friend. When the demon was at the wall, only her massive legs were visible. Seconds ticked by as a set of claws rested above the opening to the house, and a monstrous head loomed through the hole.

That would be more than enough to make Nicola pass right the Hell out but.. Something about this creature intrigued her. It didn't have a snarling, toothy maw but an almost featureless face with the curve of a nose and a pair of bright and ferocious, intelligent eyes. It stared at her with more understanding than any demon Nicola had ever seen. Whatever it was, it didn't seem aggressive for some weird reason. At least not yet.. Then, unexpectedly, the creature was enveloped in red flames as its humongous form began to shrink and reshape into something much smaller but still a good two heads taller than an average human.

From the hot light emerged a very humanlike woman in intricate metal armor. Black tattoos marked her stern face around her luminous, white eyes and on her forehead, right below the line of incredibly dense magenta colored hair which floated freely around her head, defying gravity like it's the most natural thing in the world. Whoever it was, even with an intimidating aura of strength and resolve, her close resemblance to a human calmed Nicola somewhat. Plus, she had to admit that this woman had the looks. Men would probably be killing one another for her. Honestly, Nicola felt kind of jealous.. But considering she was still pretty much helpless with a half-conscious angel leaned against her, it didn't put her fully at ease. At least until the stranger spoke in plain English. Then Nicola finally released the breath she was holding. Crossing her arms, the tall lady sneered slightly at the human and angel before her.

"Well, would you look at that. Guess it's your lucky day today."

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

It's finally done, my goodness! This one was hard to get right but I made it. Don’t ask me how i managed to finish it with two pictures, I have no clue :I

Fury makes an appearance! Badass as always. :D

Also, can I get an F for Raphael's poor ribs?

[fatesdeepdive]

Entry 6: Dicklips has a Point

Chapter 5: Mother

After a few days in Hoshido, Corrin is finally getting used to the massive emotional baggage that is her backstory. Mikoto invites Corrin to sit on the Hoshidan throne, which is infused with the magic of the First Dragons and destroys magic that alters the body or mind. Mikoto hopes that it will allow Corrin to regain her memories. Before Corrin can sit on the throne and become king of the Westeros or whatever, Mikoto’s strategist Yukimura enters. He looks like a nerd, but I suppose that’s better than being a steampunk MCR cover band dropout like Iago.

The Hoshidan siblings enter and Mikoto tells Corrin that they’re having a ceremony to quash spy rumors and formally reintroduce Corrin into the family. We’re properly introduced to Corrin’s other brother, Takumi. He’s assigned to show Corrin around town and is grumpy about it, because his defining character trait is being a dick. As Takumi and the princesses leave, Ryoma muses that he feels uneasy and predicts that something bad will happen soon.

The gang tours a Hoshidan marketplace. It’s so vibrant, and colorful, and full of life. I haven’t been talking much about this game’s music because I’m not a music guy, but I love the upbeat theme they use for this scene. It feels like something out of Okami and matches Hoshido’s idealized feudal Japan aesthetic perfectly.

Corrin points out that Shirasagi is way better than the Nohrian fort she was held prisoner in for years. Takumi rants that he doesn’t trust Corrin, saying Just don’t get too comfortable…SISTER. I know he’s supposed to come across as a dick, but he has a point. Corrin’s an enemy soldier who invaded Hoshido and killed a dozen people less than a week ago. It doesn’t matter that they share DNA, Corrin should be treated with suspicion.

Takumi also acts suspicious to Azura and says she can’t call him by his first name, which is dumb. What’s she supposed to do, call him Dicklips? Corrin points out that Dicklips is being an idiot and Dicklips tells her to shut up. And really, he is being an idiot. Either hate Corrin for growing up in Nohr, or hate Azura for having Nohrian DNA. Either nature matters, or nurture matters. You can’t have it both ways.

Then again, Azura and Corrin will totally join Nohr and try to destroy Hoshido if we chose the conquest path, so maybe Dicklips has a point.

Corrin tells Sakura that she’s friends with a girl around Sakura’s age, presumably Elise. If the coin flip had gone the other way and I was playing as boy Corrin, Sakura would have asked if Elise is Corrin’s girlfriend. And that’s ridiculous. Can you imagine, Corrin dating their teenage sister? That’s messed up. Good thing that isn’t a thing that happens in this game.

We go to the plaza for the festival. Side note, all shots of Corrin and Mikoto in the festival are positioned so that Corrin’s face is covered by something, like a man wearing an oversized hat, for instance. This is because Corrin is customizable and that means the game can’t show their face. They can show the clearly male body model, but not their face. Awakening had Robin wear a hood to get around this problem, but who needs fashion choices when you can just censor the main character’s face like it’s Austin Powers’s mojo.

While Corrin’s standing next to Mikoto, a weird ghost man wearing a hood walks to the front of the crowd and holds out his arm. Red smoke starts coming off Ganglari and an eye opens up on its hilt, because it is very clearly a cursed sword. Ganglari flies over to the man and he stabs it into the ground, creating a massive purple explosion ball. The sword explodes and Mikoto jumps in front of Corrin to shield her from the shrapnel. As she dies, Mikoto asks Corrin if she’s okay.

Fire Emblem has a lot of dead parent scenes, and I honestly think this is the best. Marcella Lentz-Pope’s scream when Mikoto dies is phenomenal. Mikoto begging Corrin to be alright and dying with a smile on her face is beautiful.

Ryoma cuts down the hooded man but his cloak just falls to the ground, leaving no body. Corrin screams, her hair glowing and her eyes white, physically holding back the pain as waves of energy burst from her body. In a moment, Corrin is gone. In her place is a dragon.

I really like Corrin’s dragon form. It looks so inhuman, more like a machine than a traditional dragon. It really gets across that Corrin has completely lost any semblance of humanity she had as she falls into this pit of despair.

The level proper starts up as an army of dark mages and mercenaries storm into the ruined plaza. Their leader is the ghostly man from before. Interestingly, he’s a swordmaster, a Hoshidan exclusive class that he shares with Ryoma. This level adds Sakura and Azura to our team and gives Corrin an absolutely monstrous boost to her stats, fitting for her rage dragon form.

Sakura

Corrin’s shy, gentle Hoshidan younger sister. She’s a Shrine Maiden (Cleric) and wields healing staves. Her personal skill lowers the damage taken by nearby allies. Her design is fine; I don’t really have any thoughts on it. She seems to be going for this “cute shy healer” personality, which isn’t bad, but Fire Emblem has done it a dozen times before.

Azura

Azura is our Dancer...I mean, Songstress. She sucks at fighting, but allows other units to attack twice, which is really helpful in battle. Her personal skill heals nearby allies at the start of their turns. Her design, despite its bright colors, does a good job conveying how calm and mysterious she is. Azura is an enigma. She clearly knows more than she lets on, but currently seems content to just follow Corrin around.

All of the mercenaries in this chapter wield special, dragon killing swords, which would be a problem, if Corrin didn’t have as much defense as the rest of the party put together. This chapter boils down to letting dragon Corrin smash everyone while Sakura, Azura, and Kaze provide support. Ryoma attempts to take on the ghost man, but is defeated. Then Corrin fucking stomps his translucent ass and saves the day.

Corrin continues rampaging and Azura begins singing LITAA. Her necklace, the one from the title screen, starts glowing. Ryoma runs in to protect Azura, but Azura blasts him away with a pillar of water, which is a thing that she can do apparently.

Dragon Corrin freaks out at the music and slashes Azura across the chest. Azura keeps singing and Corrin attempts to strangle her to death. Azura tells Corrin, Kill me if you want, but do it as yourself, which is a fantastic line that shakes Corrin out of her madness.

Corrin turns back into a human and has a flashback of Garon’s murdering Sumeragi and kidnapping her. Garon says You are my child now and grabs baby Corrin, which is so creepy its comical.

Corrin apologizes to Azura, saying she’s disgusted with herself. Ryoma explains that both royal families have dragon blood, the Nohrians from the Dusk Dragon and the Hoshidans from the Dawn Dragon. Corrin looks out over the destroyed town, a town full of innocent people destroyed by Nohr.

Ryoma points out that, because Garon gave Corrin an evil bomb sword, everything must have been his plan. Cool plan, by the way. Let’s see if I have it straight:

1: Give Corrin a bomb sword.

2: Have her commit an act of war.

3: Have Hans try to murder Corrin.

4: Hope he fails.

5: Hope the Hoshidans bring Corrin to their Queen, instead of imprisoning her for being an enemy soldier.

6: Have ghost soldiers invade Hoshido and take the sword from Corrin.

6: Cursed sword explodes, killing Mikoto and destroying her mind control barrier.

I mean, sure, there are probably simpler ways to kill Mikoto, ways that don’t involve praying that Hans fucks up and fails to kill Corrin. Garon could have, I don’t know, had the ghost soldiers kill Mikoto. Maybe their existence is tied to Ganglari, but that’s never actually stated, and the fact that they stick around and kill people after Ganglari explodes makes that questionable.

You know how, at the end of Naruto, Kishimoto had the villains reveal that they were behind every bad thing that happened in the series, and how it didn’t make sense and was dumb and convoluted? I’m getting Naruto vibes from this chapter.

Takumi blames Corrin for Mikoto’s death. And I mean, he has a point. Corrin’s the one who brought the clearly cursed sword her war criminal father gave her with her. Azura tells Takumi that it’s fine if he doesn’t trust her, but it's wrong for him to distrust Corrin, because Corrin is his blood. And that’s fucking stupid. Fire Emblem is filled with characters with evil relatives. Soren, Guinivere, Edelgard, Robin, the list goes on. Shit, there are evil blood relatives within this game.

Corrin suggests leaving and Yukimura tells her that Mikoto wouldn’t have wanted that and that Mikoyo knew she would die soon. He also mentions that there may be darker forces than Garon at work. Yukimura also points us towards a statue destroyed in the blast, a statue containing Yato, a diving golden sword that is said to be the key to peace. Yato flies up and over to Corrin.

Kaze runs in and reports a massive Nohrian force assembles at the border and the family marches off to war, with Ryoma declaring that he will not show any mercy. Corrin decides to follow Ryoma, in hopes of stopping the war. Azura tells Corrin to calm down, because getting into a fight could cause her to lose control and turn into a dragon again. Spoiler alert, this is literally the only chapter where Corrin loses control, because screw interesting characterization.

Azura gives Corrin her necklace, which turns out to be a dragonstone. Dragonstones and manaketes, people who can turn into dragons, are not new to Fire Emblem. Manaketes are normally uncomfortably young girls. Corrin is the first and currently the only manakete main lord. What’s more, Corrin is unique in their ability to wield both swords and dragonstones. It fits with the duality motif.

The necklace allows Corrin to control her dragon form, which is a bit of a disappointment. Corrin losing control and destroying stuff in this animalistic rage was really interesting characterization that is never seen after this chapter.

Azura decides to follow Corrin, because Corrin makes her feel safe. Apparently.

This chapter was really, really, good. Mikoto’s death was heartbreaking and Corrin going apeshit was some really strong character work. I forgot how absolutely terrifying Corrin’s transformation scene is. That said, this chapter hammers the final nail in the coffin for this story being morally grey. There is absolutely no reason to side with Nohr after this chapter, except for loyalty to the Nohrian royals.

At the start of the next chapter, we’ll choose our side in this war. And, not to tip my hand, but I don’t exactly think it’ll be a hard choice.

[minchen0897]

Cold (derogatory) and a Cat

My Secret Santa entry from the Discord Server for @madecunningly I hope you like it!!! Happy holidays!!

Starring: Quinlan Vos, a Cold planet, and Maul

Quinlan had been on this planet for about three Coruscant standard weeks, trying to look into a lead on one or several of the Sith – because apparently the Rule of Two had been put into a dumpster and then used as an illegal bonfire – and he was seriously considering a vacation on Tatooine.

Or to set himself on fire.

Forget the sand or the pain or whatever, at least it would be warm.

He was bundled in five layers of warm clothes, one of the layers being actual thermals, and he still was shivering all day long. Even while he used every trick in the book to keep warm.

(Admittedly, rubbing his hands did not help much when he was wearing thick gloves to protect them.)

He even put on a local cream to keep his face from freezing, but it was still cold.

Yesterday he had very nearly broken a good hand-width of his dreadlocks off, because there had been an accident with a fluid that he does not want to talk about and had indeed forgotten about in the chase that followed, until he had to return to his humble temporary abode for the night to avoid freezing to death. His hair had clinked like icicles clacking against each other when he had moved his head a bit too fast (he thought he had heard something, which probably was also his frozen hair), and curious where the sound came from repeated the motion, nearly breaking off his hair.

Not that it would have mattered much, it’s just hair, but the point he was trying to make is that it was too kriffin cold.

(He also objected to sleeves on a deep personal level, so this really wasn’t his preferred weather, but alas, a Jedi went where a Jedi must go.)

He couldn’t even use the Force to warm himself up, for several reasons: he was on the trail of someone potentially connected to the Sith or a Sith themself, so extreme caution was advised – nobody wants the Sith to go further into hiding then they already were. So low profile it was, and someone on this warmth-forsaken planet not freezing their shebs off was very suspicious. Even the natives were shivering. He also was still feeling the aftereffects of a concussion he had gotten in an unfortunate accident he did not want to go into any further.

It was nothing too bad but trying more finicky things with the Force did not make his head happy.

(People who got concussions often apparently were prone to headaches and migraines. Sometimes Quinlan really, honestly had a deep worry for Obi-wan. That man could take care of himself – although he actually seemed to suck at it – had an uncanny ability to survive everything the galaxy threw at him, but…still.)

In any case, to keep the spiral of mental commentary from spinning out of control, it was fucking cold, Quinlan did not like that, and he was so far not getting anywhere with his supposed lead.

He took a deep breath – or as deep as he could without feeling his lungs were freezing, even while breathing through a scarf and all – and carefully released his frustration and discontent into the Force. They would not help and rather cloud his decisions, anyway.

Somewhere in the distance Quinlan could hear people singing. As far as he knew it was a way to celebrate together before the White Wall hit and everyone would be confined to their homes for at least a week. Historically, before technology got better, it was one last big party before they would leave the other members of their community to whatever the White Wall had held in stock for them. Sort of like one last hurrah before potentially facing down the end. Or at the very least facing separation for a while without means of checking in with their loved ones – as was usual, those who were obscenely rich and could afford the according technology were the exception to this.

The White Wall was not a snowstorm per se, although unsuspecting strangers tended to refer to it as that. It looked in fact rather innocent, simple snow clouds, on most planets not any more harmful than simple rainclouds that brought the rain and then moved on.

But alas, on this particular planet, these particular snow clouds gathered and then brought snowfall for at least a week, without moving on, and it was a regular occurrence that everyone was snowed in by meters of the frozen water posing as innocent little white crystals. It was an interesting weather phenomenon, and also dangerous for uninformed sentients. Which were exceedingly rare because in modern times everyone got warned, so generally there was not too much danger anymore. Those who hosted guests stocked up generously on anything essential that might be needed. So today there was nobody really in danger of freezing to death due to the abundance of snow the White Wall brought. (Quinlan had opinions on that, and most of them were objections to this statement, because he was still freaking cold, but that was probably his frustration speaking.)

The tradition to meet up before the White Wall hit and celebrate with songs and dance and good food and also this one special drink they made for the occasion had stayed and was probably one of the most famous things this planet had to offer, right up there with the weather phenomenon that was the reason for the celebration in the first place.

He turned around a corner, intent to get back to the small inn he stayed at and found himself almost immediately hissed at.

There was a cat. Very fluffy. All that fur probably was needed in this cold. Desperately so, because despite all the fur it still appeared to be shivering.

It also, under all the anger it spouted in the Force, felt quite miserable.

Quinlan felt for the creature.

He knelt and sent gentle waves of calmness at the cat. “Today is just not a good day, isn’t it?”

He would have said horrible, but that would have probably been his frustration talking.

The cat continued hissing, as Quinlan settled down against the wall of a building close to it. Not that the hissing really bothered Quinlan. He steadily continued with exuding calmness. It worried him a bit that despite the hissing and general everything of the cat, it had not moved. Neither to attack nor to run away. Odd.

Maybe the cat couldn’t run? Being hurt would explain why it was so angry and miserable. He had seen a vet clinic only a few blocks over that had open still and could at least check the cat for injuries.

“You don’t look so good,” Quinlan looked at the cat that had stopped hissing quite so loudly. He was not quite sure why he was talking to a cat, but there had been stranger things happening in this galaxy than this. The Force seemed to be supportive and anticipating something.

“How about I bring you to the vet – there is a clinic not too far away – and you get checked out for injuries. And maybe we can find a place for you to stay? The weather forecast said the White Wall would hit tonight, and honestly, nobody deserves to be out in this cold.”

The cat looked a little bit like it wanted to make a face between straight up murder and questioning Quinlan’s sanity. It felt a bit rude that a cat was looking at him like this.

“Come on, inside a house it’s definitely warmer than outside, that has to be a convincing argument.”

The cat took its time, but it got less hissy gradually. Still not in the best of moods – which was perfectly understandable, in Quinlan’s opinion – but the calming presence Quinlan tried his best to exude seemed to do its job.

Once he was sure the cat would not attack him immediately with the intent to kill Quinlan carefully gathered the cat into his arms and began making his way to the vet. The cat was predictably very unhappy, but suprisingly it was not struggling too much. Mostly because moving seemed to hurt it somewhat, Quinlan thought.

The vet, while still open, was running on minimum staff. There was only one vet and one assistant currently on hand; their colleagues had already gone to the celebrations. The two in attendance had, from the looks of it, drawn the short sticks and had been assigned the duty during the following week – or weeks, depending on how much and how long snow would fall – to care for long-term patients or animals that had been brought here because the owners couldn’t take care of them during this time.

Basically, they had to pull double duty in the veterinarian clinic and the animal shelter that apparently was part of it.

Quinlan did not envy them their jobs.

Especially not once the cat seemed to regain some energy and made valiant attempts at scratching the vet and their assistant to death during the health exam. Not that they were bothered by it; they made jokes about thick skin and that was the extent of their reactions to it.

It turned out the cat – actually a male specimen, apparently – was perfectly fine health-wise. Cold and exhausted, but nothing rest and warmth won’t fix.

The assistant rang him up after the exam was over.

“That would make 15 Credits – the fee for our services. Oh! Before I forget about it – will you take him home with you? Or do you want us to keep him here?”

The cat stared at the assistant, ready to take their eyes out.

“I’ll take him home with me, no problem,” Quinlan said. He had a feeling if he left the cat here he would actually commit murder. Aside from that, the vet had said – after Quinlan asked, because small talk was a thing – that the shelter was filled to the brim. And he wouldn’t really have to worry about feeding the cat. His temporary neighbour two rooms from his own rented one had brought two tookas with them, so there would be some kibble available for sure. And if needs really must, he could always share his own food, he supposed. “Thank you for all your help.”

“No problem. It is literally our job,” the assistant chuckled good naturedly. “However, I think you should hurry. It looks like the snow is coming down soon, and nobody wants to be outside when the White Wall hits town.”

The assistant had a good point there. He had a good sense for orientation and the Force to boot, but he honestly didn’t want to be outside still when the snow really came down. There are dares and then there is being an idiot. He very firmly counted himself among the former section.

He said his good-byes, cat under his arm, and made his way back to the inn.

This was really not how he had thought his visit on this planet would go.

-_-_-

Darth Maul, Sith Apprentice and a Lord in his own right, had at one point come to the conclusion that his life sucked.

His life up to his defeat at the hands of Kenobi and subsequent half-existence spoke for that in and of itself.

It was only due to his stubbornness (his desperation, his clinging to life, not that he called it that, because it smelled of weakness he refused to have) and hate for Kenobi that he managed to survive the following years. Admittedly, he had used the Dark Side as a crutch, an aid to his continued survival. Not that his then-Master had allowed him to learn these arts, but when has not being allowed something ever stopped him?

In any case, with everything gone, the whispers and promises of the Dark Side had been constant. Had been there, had not left. Had fed from his anger, made him stronger in return, let him survive in return.

For ten years the Dark Side’s whispers and his own tinkering to gain a lower body-half again where the only noises he took note of.

Then he learned that Count Dooku, that absolute snob, had replaced him, that his master had simply thrown him away (he refused to acknowledge that the actions – or lack thereof – of his former Master had hurt) and Maul swore revenge. On Kenobi, for defeating him; on Dooku for taking his place; on his Master for casting him off like one might throw away a broken toy.

They would pay. All of them.

He had survived, and then he plotted.

Kenobi had to die, and he would do it himself – no matter the cost. Every time the place where his body met the prosthetic cramped, making Maul remember the fresh wound with a shadow of the pain he had lived through, he was reaffirmed in this.

Dooku had to die too. And it had to be humiliating. He had vague memories of other Zabraks, who had been…close…to Maul. He could use their power. Take them from Dathomir. Leave chaos in their wake, as the damned witches on that Force-forsaken planet had given him away like a slave that he had been. (It felt like betrayal – another thought Maul did not want to recognize in himself, unsure were following it would lead, which felt suspiciously weak, and he refused to be that.)

The witches would suffer for what they had done.

It had the added bonus of at least indebting the other Zabraks to him, as he would free them from the Witches.

Once they were on his side, he would train them, and train them well. It would take time, but he had time. He could be patient. (It felt like hunting – another vague memory from the life before he had been given to his Master.)

Besides, it was not like he had nothing to do while training them. He could study the material he would take from the witches, use their Magick to his advantage – as he knew for certain that Palpatine never had an interest in learning Dathomirian Magick, seeing it as beneath him. It would be an ace up his sleeve.

He could also go to other Sith Temples. Learn. Teach. Biding his time.

He had heard Dooku had a thing for rare artifacts, so if he found one it was a possible lure for his replacement.

As for his former Master – death for him was inevitable. Palpatine had not shared all his plans for the Empire he wanted to build – but that he wanted to build one was certain. He had already started with his plans; in fact, one of the early stages had been becoming the Supreme Chancellor.

Knowing about the Empire was enough for Maul to decide where he wanted to begin his revenge against Palpatine.

Every Government can be undermined.

And Palpatine would grasp at straws, and fail to do so rather pathetically, when Maul pulled the Empire away from underneath his feet. Or shattered it into million pieces. He was not sure yet.

Regardless, when Palpatine would see his Empire crumble right in front of his eyes, Maul would strike, and end the wretched life of the wrinkled bastard.

Or maybe torture him first and then end him. He had not quite decided on his primary plan quite yet.

Point was, he had a plan with backup plans regarding Palpatine’s end, and the majority of them involved him building up his own underground empire. (Name still pending.)

And to that extent he visited this damned planet (honestly who would want to live here, it’s too cold) that brought him back to his suffering, because he needed contacts.

And the contacts were not actually the problem. The problem was that he had grown curious when he noticed a Force Artifact in one abandoned building – a ruin, really – far outside any settlement.

So he went to investigate. The Dark Side whispered promises still, but there was something else that spoke of anticipation – good or bad Maul couldn’t tell.

The artifact turned out to be some strange metal, nothing he could identify on the spot, formed like a claw. There were ancient texts, or at least they looked ancient, written all over the cellar room he had found the claw in – both room and claw hidden away behind traps that were almost too easy for him.

He had been too focused on his little hunt in the ruin to notice it right away, but the thing speaking of anticipation had grown and smothered the Dark Side’s whispers into nothingness. In hindsight that had been a glaring sign something was about to go wrong.

But he didn’t notice, and now he paid for it.

Because the moment he touched the claw, he lost consciousness, and once he woke up again still in the cellar, he was a kriffing cat, and the claw was nowhere to be found.

And, because the universe hated him, the ruins had started to rumble ominously, little pieces of rock falling from the ceiling in a clear sign that he should get out of there as fast as possible.

Which he did, of course.

It simply turned out that the traps that had seemed almost too easy for him before were significantly harder to circumvent. Especially when he had not even heard the tiniest slip of a whisper from the dark side, only felt that anticipating something hovering absolutely everywhere, which was somewhat interesting, but also absolutely useless. (He was not a fan.)

Also it turned out the bonus of having non-metal legs (because that was a thing, as a cat he apparently had four functioning flesh limbs) was actually not that much of a bonus at all when weighed against opposable thumbs and said metal legs not needing muscle stamina to run.

Outside the ruins he watched as any option to figure out what was the power behind the claw – and it had to be some power in cooperation with the claw, nothing else would make sense – literally crumbled to the ground, and quickly was covered in snow.

There was, he thought furiously, very little chance of finding the ruins again after the White Wall hit.

So as anyone sensible who also happened to have received some form of training in the powers he had, tried to lift a few rocks off where he suspected the cellar had been. (Apparently, his room orientation was now also shot on accord of being a karking cat.)

Nothing moved.

Maul let out a furious yowl.

Whoever was responsible for this dilemma would pay, he would make sure of it. As soon as he found out who it was anyway. Until then his rage would carry him forwards, as it always did.

He found it disconcerting that no whispers from the Dark Side, no promises, reached his ears after this vow. Only the anticipating silence from the Something Else. It was almost eery.

He paced in the snow for a bit. (Unsurprisingly it was cold.)

He was a cat, had no thumbs, and basically no strength – neither in body nor in the Dark Side – when compared to his actual body.

There was simply no chance of him digging the cellar out. Not without his full set of power.

He cursed and got furious when he only heard himself hissing and yowling. Very angrily, admittedly, but it was just not the same. It simply made him angrier, but without the added benefit of more whispers and promises from the Dark Side.

Which, again, was usually always present and was now suspiciously absent.

Without another option in sight, and unwilling to die in the White Wall, Maul had made his way back to the nearest town.

Which, very frustratingly, had taken an eternity. It had also been miserable because in the midst of his way back it had started to snow, and he was pretty sure he had run in a circle before getting his orientation back.

He had cowered in an alley and made the very first being suffer with his claws (neat) that came too close.

Then the lack of stamina in this useless (aside from the claws) body had made his muscles cramp and he had been reduced to hissing and yowling curses at everyone that came too close.

A few beings tried, but while they didn’t understand his words, at least they got the gist of his message.

Until a Jedi walked into his alley. Because of course there was a Jedi present on this planet, in this town, walking into his alley. He was easily noticeable as a Jedi because the anticipatory something from everywhere seemed to give this person something like a hug.

Strange concept.

And then the Jedi had the audacity to not only ignore his threats and come closer but also sit down next to him.

That absolute bastard would meet a harrowing death at either his hands or his claws. Blood would spill. He would shred the Jedi’s clothes, scratch at their skin until the liquid of their veins-

The Jedi was warm.

The Jedi was warm?

The anticipatory something from before had become smug (rude) and mixed with the something surrounding the Jedi, who then seemed to make the something into – well Maul would guess the equivalent of a warm blanket.

It was one of the stranger things Maul had felt. He knew similar things from the Dark Side, had used it to intimidate people in a bar once because he wanted a booth for himself and they were in the way, so he had sent them cowering.

But this was new. Startling. Strange. But not bad?

How very weird. (But also comfortable.)

The Jedi made a few good points about not freezing to death outside once the White Wall hit, but still, the audacity to simply pick him up and bring him to a vet!

He blamed it on his still cramping muscles that he did not eviscerate the Jedi on the spot. (Never mind that his muscles were somewhat useable once more.)

The vet claimed everything to be alright with him, which, no, he was kriffin cold, this planet was horrible, and also he was a cat and not a Zabrak as he originally should be, but before he could claw the vet’s – or his assistant’s, he wasn’t picky – eyes out, the Jedi had bundled him up and they had left.

He would have to enact rage later.

To his great surprise the Jedi did indeed take him with them to the place they were apparently staying at, and did not randomly drop him in a dumpster.

Maul refused to feel grateful for it. He did not want to think about his success regarding this decision.

Instead, just to spite the Jedi, he aimed to be as much of a menace as he could be without access to his full abilities. For the next few days furniture got scratched up. The Jedi’s food was eaten or made inedible by him. Fur was shed excessively.

The Jedi cursed regularly at him, but never raised a hand. An interesting change to his usual experience with other Users of the Force. Usually there was always violence involved when he met with any of them, be it his former Master or another Jedi.

Not that he wanted to be fair, but the reason behind it might be that in the Jedi’s eyes he was a simple cat.

The thought disgusted him somewhat, as he was not merely a cat. He was more than that but communicating that was hard when he had no thumbs and could only do cat things and noises. He was stuck at angry hissing.

Then, one evening, the Jedi made the grave mistake of leaving their cup of tea on the counter while they went to the ‘fresher. Maul saw a chance and took it.

He sat next to the cup on the counter and waited until the Jedi returned, established eye contact, and pawed the cup over the edge. It fractured into tiny, sharp shards. The ground was covered in rapidly cooling tea.

The Jedi began cursing.

Maul’s work was done, so he leapt from the counter.

Or intended to, because the Jedi – for once without gloves because they had indeed taken a shower – caught him mid-leap with their hands.

“Careful you kriffin menace, there are shards every…where…“ the Jedi petered off into silence.

The something – which Maul assumed could only be the Force the Jedi preferred to use – around the Jedi was thrumming with activity.

And thus Maul hung suspended in the air by two hands for a while.

He didn’t even struggle to get out of the hold. He blamed being distracted by the interesting patterns the Force of the Jedi drew and sung in equal measures.

The eyes of the Jedi were staring unblinking at nothing right above Mauls head, right until they weren’t anymore and instead snapped into focussing right on Maul.

“Fucking shit.”

Well, that was eloquent. Not. But it summarized Mauls situation quite neatly.

“You’re Maul.”

Maul tried his best to frown at the Jedi, but alas, being a cat crossed his plans once more.

“Why are you a cat? No actually, how the fuck are you still alive? We thought you were dead!”

Maul hissed. It was not his fault that Kenobi was incompetent.

“Holy shit, you’re a cat.”

Now he began to struggle in earnest. While the Jedi seemed flabbergasted still, it was only a question of when that would change, and as soon as the Jedi stopped being…shocked, he guessed, they would try to catch him and ‘bring him to justice’ or something ridiculous, and Maul did not want to make that easy for them by simply hanging in their grip like a wet towel.

“No, hold on, wait, I’m not going to murder you! But I could use your help.”

If he could snort derisively, Maul would. Yeah, right. A Jedi wanted his help.

“Okay I know this sounds ridiculous, but – well. I. Uhm. I saw that you have plans for your former Master, which largely end with him being dead, and I want to support that goal.”

Sounded fake but he would hear the Jedi out. For now. Maybe he could get good connections out of this.

“Okay, so hear me out – wait, no, name first, I’m Quinlan. Now hear me out. We’re kinda getting desperate here. The war is going on and on, our men are dying by droves despite our best attempts otherwise, the Jedi are dying equally as fast – not that that interests you, you’re probably happy about that,” Maul was actually not quite sure if he was happy about it, or if he had apathy about it, or if it was more convenience than anything else if it actually was convenience, but that’s nothing he wanted to spend thoughts on, “and we hope that finding the Sith Lord, the Sith Master, and ending them will end the war and spare many people from dying.”

A valid reason for a Jedi he supposed. Now the Jedi – Quinlan – only needed to get to the point.

“You were the Sith Master’s Apprentice. You could tell us about them. What you know about their plans. Which would, in turn, ruin those plans because we – the Jedi – would do our best to stop them. It would align with your goal of making your former Master miserable. I would have to speak to the council but maybe you can be directly involved too, enact your revenge more directly.”

At that Maul clawed at Quinlan’s bare arms, because he was still a cat, and he could not take revenge on Sidious as a cat.

Quinlan flinched satisfyingly.

“Here’s where my counteroffer comes in,” he continues despite the scratches and while still holding Maul up. “The Archives of the Jedi Order are large and filled with knowledge. You would have access to it and I would offer my help to reverse whatever made you into a cat.”

Maul stared at Quinlan.

Quinlan stared back.

“If you are entirely against this deal shake your head, if you are willing to talk details, I don’t know, hiss at me or something.”

Maul stared.

Quinlan frowned.

“Yeah, okay, maybe talk was the wrong verb to use there.” He hummed in thought. “I think I saw an external keyboard for a terminal somewhere in this place. It had a weird layout, but you should be able to type something when I hook it up to my pad.”

Maul stared.

Quinlan stared.

“So?”

Maul hissed.

[tsipasce]

Same Difference ch. 15

A/N: this thing fluffier than mf pancakes

That first night Nanami was awoken by the sound of the front door and a heavy sigh from a familiar voice. She glanced at the clock to see it was 2:30 am, a feeling a bit of empathy as she remembered all the 12-hour shifts she pulled, only to return to an empty place and heat up leftovers from the night before. He was probably doing the opposite of ~*saving lives*~ during his long shifts, but the sentiment remained. She heard him walking into the kitchen as the steps on hardwood turned to tile and he opened the pantry then subsequently the microwave. By 3:15 am she heard his shower going as she fell back asleep, wondering how he kept up with this schedule, his consistent grumpy mood suddenly making more sense.

By morning Nanami’s alarm for 5:30 am began blaring and she hurriedly shut it off, knowing they were only a room apart, but not how heavy a sleeper he was. Hoping she hadn’t awoken him, she quietly went through her morning routine and slipped into her workout gear. Since her training, she’d gotten back into running, and morning jogs were the only ones she had the time or energy for. On paper, any kind of jogging sounded tedious, but she found a certain peace in being able to clear her mind and get the blood flowing before beginning her day. Grabbing her headphones and phone, she quietly opened the door to her room before gently closing it. She crept down the hallway, looking back to his room to find the door still closed. He must be asleep still. Better make this quick. She thought before continuing down the hall. The sun was streaming in, but the kitchen and living room lights were off, further strengthening her confidence. As she rounded the corner, she sa— “Aggh!” There he was with his back turned, leaning on the counter. He had on a baseball cap, dust mask, sweatshirt and gym shorts with compression tight underneath, all black.

Overhaul calmly turned his head at the sudden noise as though he’d been expecting it, “You didn’t really think I wouldn’t notice you leaving, did you?”

“Wha—no, way. I was just gonna…” his bored expression let her know that whatever half-baked explanation she planned on selling, he wasn’t buying it, “Ok, you caught me.”

“You cannot be outside alone. What part of ‘there’s a price on your head’ are you not getting?”

A defeated look crossed her features as she realized he was right. For at least a couple weeks, she needed to lay low. It wasn’t an unreasonable request, and she knew it. “You’re right…” She began as she turned to go back to her room.

“Where are you going?”

The question caught her off-guard as she turned, confused, “To change?”

“I had plans to go on a run myself. You can join, if you behave.” He said plainly, as he headed to the doorway to put on his shoes. In any other circumstance she’d complain about being treated like a child, but considering she’d literally just gotten caught trying to sneak out like a teenager, she thought it best to spare him the retort and herself the hypocrisy.

“…Fine. Lead the way~”

“And leave the earphones, you need to be alert.”

“Yes, sir.” She responded simply.

He stopped, quickly turning to her, a dark look in his eyes. Seemingly coming back from wherever his mind went in that moment, he cleared his throat before turning back and adjusting his hat to cover more of his now-flushed face. “Let’s… let’s just go.”

Note to self: The magic words are not ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, but ‘yes sir’. She gulped.

They walked out of the main door and past the courtyard to the street. Looking at his watch he set a timer and they began their jog. The sun was still rising, and the air was fresh as it filled her lungs. The neighborhood was quiet, and the streets were empty, the only sounds being the morning birds and her own breath as they began their third mile.

 Hold up, where is—she thought as she looked over to see him still there. She knew he had to be in better shape than her given the fact that he fought so frequently, but he was running as though they had just begun, not a shred of fatigue on what was visible of his face. It was slightly off-putting seeing someone she knew had a whopping 2 hours of sleep run a couple miles without breaking a sweat. She on the other hand was beginning to tire. Slowing down she breathed heavily as he raised a brow at her questioningly.

“You’re…” She breathed, her hands above her head as she continued, “you’re like an electric car or something… How?” She panted, trying to cool down.

“None of that made sense.” He deadpanned, still jogging in place.

“Ugh, I’m trying to say, how are you not tired yet? I haven’t heard a peep out of you this whole time.”

“Practice and overhaul. Get through 5 miles without being this winded and I’ll consider teaching you.”

“Nothing is ever easy with you, is it?”

“Says the woman who makes a game out of defying me.”

Gasping, she dramatically put her hand across her chest, “Just because it’s true, doesn’t mean you have to say it! Besides, you invite confrontation.”

“I what?” He asked incredulously.

Just as they were about to continue bickering, a voice cut them off. “It’s a bit early to be carrying on like this, isn’t it?”

Seeing the old man from the day before, Nanami immediately felt embarrassed, having shown the stranger a less-than-flattering side of herself twice in such a short span of time. “We’re so sorry for the noise, that was my fault.” She bowed trying to apologize. Just as she was about to check for Overhaul’s reaction, she saw him doing the same.

“My apologies. We won’t be a bother again.” There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm or irritation in his voice and it sounded almost foreign to her.

Well, he does have manners, so I guess it’s not that surprising… she reasoned to herself.

“That’s quite alright, for someone my age, it’s nice hearing you young folk being so spirited.” He looked between them before continuing, “How would you two like to have a morning cup of tea with me?”

Before Nanami could find a way to wiggle out of it, Overhaul responded, “Of course, we’d be delighted.”

They stood back up, the older man already turning to go inside. Nanami turned to him mouth “what the hell are you doing?” as she didn’t want to get the man involved, not knowing how misplaced her concern was. He simply sighed, seemingly resigned to this tea break as he motioned for her to go inside. She could tell he knew something she didn’t, but reluctantly went ahead as he followed close behind through the front gates of the house.

The courtyard was very similar to that of the front house used to enter the base, except it felt homier upon entering. It was quiet and serene, as the melodic clank of the deer scare echoed and a stream of water ran into a small pond, the morning birds sparing an odd note or chirp in the background. Now cooling down from their run, she could feel the fall air crisp in her lungs once again as she took a moment to appreciate the scene.  The wrap-around porch had cushions and a tea set laid out as though he was expecting guests. Nanami was suspicious of the coincidence but couldn’t bring herself to feel threatened with her partner being so calm. At the end of the day, she was confident she and Overhaul could handle an ambush between them, but this didn’t feel like an attack, at least not for her.

“Please, have a seat.” The man smiled warmly as they obliged. Nanami was still unsettled at seeing her lab partner so placid and cooperative with another person. Must be trying to keep up a cover or something… I’ll have to be a barrier to make sure Mr.NoseyNeighbor doesn’t dig too deep and get himself in trouble with bird brain over here. This sweet old man has no idea what he’s gotten into…She thought to herself. The man poured them their cups and she clasped it with both hands, savoring the warmth as she sipped. “So, do you spend this much time with all of your patients or just the ones that are ‘particularly needy’?”

Nanami almost choked, registering the question and possible insinuation. Ok, what the fuck. Not-so sweet, after all... She used the cup as a shield, drinking as she regained her composure to answer, “I’m not sure what you mean, but I take care of all my patients equally based on what their condition demands.”

“Ah, I see. I wish I had a doctor as involved as you. Tell me, what hospital did you say you worked for again, Dr. Watanabe?” He asked innocently sipping his tea, but maintained eye contact.

“I didn’t. It’s funny, I also didn’t mention my name either. People in this neighborhood usually keep to themselves from what I’ve seen.”

“And I assume you’ve seen a lot.”

“No more than someone of your tenure has, I’m sure.” She smiled easily, determined not to lose this quasi-confrontation. She could feel her grip on the teacup tightening until Overhaul cut in.

“I think that’s enough, Pops.” He said, a tinge of exasperation in his voice.

Her head snapped to look over at Overhaul, wide-eyed. “POPS”??

The older man’s stern face and calculating smile were replaced with one of genuine amusement and a hardy chuckle. “Oh, I just wanted to test her mettle a bit. I’ve heard so much about her, but we’ve never had the chance to formally meet.”

“POPS” LIKE A DAD? LIKE HIS WHOLE ASS FATHER??

“Well, here we are. Boss, Dr. Nanami Watanabe. Dr. Watanabe, Boss.” He motioned between them. Her heart still finding time to skip a beat at the sound of him saying her given name for the first time.

Wait, Boss too? I’m… it’s too early for this. She lamented inwardly at her growing confusion before gathering her face, trying to seem unsurprised and unbothered by the introduction, though she was still hesitant. Is this another manipulation tactic?

“It’s alright, please relax, doctor.” He assured, seeing the skepticism on her face, ”I’m fully aware of your involvement in our organization. Though I do appreciate your caution. It puts me at ease knowing your prudence when discussing the Shie Hassakai extends even to me.” He chuckled.

“Oh, my apologies. It’s a pleasure to meet you sir,” she replied, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she realized there wasn’t a crisis to be averted, at least not the one she thought.

“No need to apologize, I’m just grateful to have you over. Chisaki speaks so highly of you, it’s nice to be able to put an in-person face to the name.” At this she cautioned a glance only to see him very preoccupied with watching the deer scare. “Chisaki” huh…

“Oh, does he now? He’s usually so quiet when we’re working together.”

“Except for the occasional smart remark, I’m sure.”

She tried to stifle a giggle, “You really are his father then. If it’s not that, there’s certainly a ‘can’t you be serious for one second?’ thrown in there if I even attempt a joke myself.” She said in her best Overhaul impersonation voice.

The Boss let out a hardy laugh, “Well, we’re not related by blood,” at this a look of surprise crossed her face. “But that does indeed sound like my son.”

Realizing her expression had been misread, she clarified, “Oh no, I didn’t— what I mean to say is that my parents adopted me too, so I understand what you mean.” She smiled sincerely, though there was a fragment of sadness in her features Overhaul noted as he glanced over at her when she wasn’t looking. Wanting desperately to change the subject, she looked around the courtyard, “Anyway, you have a lovely home. I’m impressed your hydrangeas are so lush during this time of year, I’m having a real hard time with mine.”

He perked up, more than happy to explain the ins-and-outs of his gardening techniques. He rose to show her around, the both of them crouching and inspecting the plants in the courtyard as pops gave her the life story and history of each plant. It was odd to think that she was having a casual conversation with The Boss himself, but figured it was best to play it cool and keep things light and genuine. She made sure to maintain a healthy level of respect while addressing him, but the interaction flowed easily. For a moment she was able to forget her situation and just enjoy a morning tea while listening intently as he spoke about all matters horticultural.

Still on the porch, observing the pair, there was a warmth creeping into Chisaki’s chest. Bloodshed, murder, brutality—those were familiar, but this… was different. Not in the mood for self-reflection, he pulled his mask down and sipped the tea, enjoying the view without questioning it. Her hands gently grazed the petals, her gaze soft as the rising sun illuminated her features, a warm smile across her face. He cleared his throat, careful not to articulate the thoughts that crossed his mind. Careful not to acknowledge just how nice it would be to become used to this visage. He made a mental note to create a garden of his own to help facilitate this new wish, but for now, there was work to be done. Like clockwork, his phone rang, stirring him from his thoughts and he knew it was time to go.

After a brief call, he pocketed the device, standing up and walking over to them. Pops noticed and took the cue, “Well, it looks like duty calls. It was lovely to finally meet you, Dr. Watanabe.”

“The feeling is definitely mutual. Thank you for the tea and gardening tips, I’ll be sure to update you on the progress of my green thumb, whenever it shows up.” She gave a small laugh as she rubbed the back of her neck, a bit embarrassed at telling him how many plants had gone to die at her place.

“I look forward to it, and to seeing more of you around here. I know others feel the same.” He glanced over to Overhaul who averted his gaze like a reticent child at the remark.

They gave courteous bows before leaving, heading back in the direction of his house. There was a marked silence between them as they jogged this time. She had a million questions but couldn’t bring herself to ask even one as they arrived and entered the house. Lost in thought, she continued walking until she almost bumped into him as he stopped in the hallway. Looking over his shoulder, he addressed her “You know, there’s no turning back now.”

“I think we crossed that bridge a while ago,” she tittered before looking up to see his gaze soft and almost anxious to hear her response.  “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” She assured, referring only partly to her commitment to keep a low profile until the bounty could be resolved. If she was being completely honest with herself, there was an insinuation she hoped he wouldn’t miss; that he wouldn’t reject. Both exhaling a long-held breath, he nodded, heading down the hallway to his room, a faint smile forming behind his mask.

[kaminarisimp9000]

movie night

A/N: bruh the movie night trope is my f a v o r i t e and it’s 100% because ahem netflix and chill has caught me off guard one too many times. n e ways i barely know how to use this website nd this is the first post on the Blog and i totally did not write this because this concept is living rent free in my mind so i hope you enjoy??

pairing: bakugou x female!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: strong language

summary: You get really cold during the Weekly Class 1-A Movie Night™ due to your quirk and it’s up to Bakugou to warm you up

You rushed down to the common room, arms full of snacks, taking care so as not to spill anything. A smile bloomed across your face as you took in the scene before you. The common room was a mess of blankets, sleeping bags, couches and the like, as the students of Class 1-A worked together to set up today’s movie night. These movie nights had been born out of a collective need to relieve stress, and by now, had sort of become a weekly thing that you looked forward to. Your smile only grew wider as you realized that today, even Big Bad Bakugou had shut his mouth for once, opting to actually cooperate with his fellow students. 

Bakugou. 

You couldn’t ignore the subtle heat that rose to your cheeks as your thoughts lingered on your best friend for just a beat longer than necessary, when you were abruptly shaken out of your second of stupor. 

“Sweet! Y/N’s got the snacks!” Kaminari yelled, as he plopped down on one of the couches, ready to begin this week’s installment of Class 1-A’s Movie Nights™.

“Hell yeah I do. You’d better help me set this up, though, unless you’re not getting any!” You retorted. 

Kaminari waved you off with an alright, alright and headed towards the kitchen to find some bowls, while Tsuyu and Midoriya helped you set everything down. A few moments later, you were all but surrounded by an array of colorful bowls filled with all sorts of movie-appropriate treats.

Satisfied with your hard work, you scanned the common room for any available seats, letting out a chuckle as you realized that the only empty one was that which was next to your probably half-pomeranian half-human friend. 

(There was actually another space empty, but it was next to Mineta, so we’re not going to talk about that for obvious reasons.)

“Scoot over, Katsuki, I’m gonna sit here”

“Fuck off, Y/N,” Bakugou replied, moving to the side nevertheless.

“You wish,” you mused, gently sitting down next to him, “So, what’re we watching today?”

“As if I care.”

“Ugh, would you stop being so emo for once and answer the question?”

“Fuck, I dunno, it’s some shit about a cooking rat, or something.” 

“Was it that hard to say Ratatouille? I swear to god, Katsuki, you’re so fucking difficult sometimes.”

“I’d wager the poor boy just doesn’t know how to pronounce Ratatouille, Y/N ☆,” Aoyama interrupted from across the room.

You let out a laugh, “You’re probably right, Aoyama. The boy’s ~uncultured~.” 

Your relationship with Bakugou was comfortable to say the least. Sure, you did have a tiny crush on him, but above that, he was one of your best friends at UA. It’s anyone’s best guess as to how that even happened in the first place, with the boy’s hostility shining through in his ever-present frown, but here you are. Perhaps it’s because you were one of the only ones in the class who could actually put up with his less-than-desirable behavior, or because of the numerous times you practically begged him to spar with you (to which he gave in after a full month of persistence). You didn’t really have much of a crush on him in the beginning, but as time passed, and as the two of you grew closer, you felt your heart beat that much louder for him with every frown he sent your way. 

Sometimes, when you looked at him, you even felt breathless. 

But now was not one of those times. Hell, you were too distracted by the movie to give too much thought to the fact that you wanted Katsuki Bakugou to pin you against the wall of your dorm and kiss the living daylights out of you. Yes, you liked Bakugou, but you loved Ratatouille. 

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Your Ratatouille-induced bliss was fairly short-lived, though, for midway through the movie, you began to feel a bit chilly. Moving your arms to hug your sides, you tried to ignore it, but you knew where this was headed. Your quirk, Body Heat, converts your temperature into pure energy, which does make you quite powerful in the training arena, but also requires a great deal of cooldown time for your body to reset to its natural state. This usually happens quite painlessly, but sometimes, especially when you’ve overused your quirk, your temperature severely drops, as your body attempts to regenerate what it has lost. 

In other words, if you didn’t find a source of heat soon, you would be shivering as if there were no tomorrow. 

As your body began to shake, you searched the room for Todoroki, who usually helped you when you were like this, using his left side to warm you up until you were a functioning human again. You found him rather quickly, only to see that his eyes were closed, chest gently rising and falling through a peaceful slumber. 

Of course he’s fucking asleep, you thought to yourself, shivers intensifying, I’m so stupid! It would have taken me literally two seconds to grab a few blankets and now I can barely fucking move I’m shivering so bad. 

Reluctantly, you resigned yourself to this fate, deciding that you would just let your body do what it needed to do to regain your natural energy, and bear through the cold, when you felt a sudden shift to your side. 

Through your peripheral vision, you saw that Bakugou had gotten up and had started walking away. 

Probably cause I’m shaking so violently, you thought, rolling your eyes as much as you could, Can’t blame him, though, even I’d be annoyed. 

He returned quickly, though, throwing a plush blanket over your curled-up form. 

“Stop fucking shivering,” he whispered angrily.

“S-hut t-t-the fuck up you b-bitch, y-you know it's b-because of my quirk” You replied, with great difficulty.

“Where’s that half-n-half bastard? Isn’t he the one who gets rid of this shit for you.” 

“He's s-sleeping r-right n-ow—stop! d-don't wake him up h-he's probably t-t-t-ired.”

“Jesus Christ you can’t even fucking talk, can you,” Bakugou deadpanned. 

You shook your head as vigorously as you could, the blanket doing little in the way of warming you up. 

“It’s-it’s fine, ‘T-Tsuki, this’ll b-be o-o-over soon.” 

“Yeah, but it’s damn annoying.” 

“Then d-do something ab-b-bout it! I d-d-don’t know wh-what to t-t-tell you, I literally c-can’t m-move!” you snapped. 

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Bakugou maneuvered himself until he was under the blanket that currently surrounded your shivering body, pulling you into his lap so that you were facing him, your cheeks growing hot in response to your compromising position. 

“K-Katsuki—”

“Shut your mouth.” 

You obliged, as he brought his hands up to your face, palms glowing orange as he carefully activated his quirk just enough to warm them up, but not enough to create an explosion. He figured that your inability to talk was currently the most annoying thing about you, so he decided to stop the incessant chattering of your teeth first. 

Meanwhile, you were, for lack of better wording, dying on the inside. You knew Bakugou was hot, but shit, you’ve never seen him like this before! Were his eyes always that fucking beautiful when he concentrated? Was his skin always this smooth? Did his nose always look that kissable? 

As you began to regain feeling in your face, you really hoped that Bakugo couldn’t sense your heartbeat running at a million miles per hour, as his hands left your cheeks to run down your arms. 

“Thank you for this, Katsuki, you really didn’t have to,” you sigh, basking in your newfound warmth, letting your head fall onto his shoulder.

“Tch,” Bakugo grunted, as his hands softly grasped yours, lingering until their natural warmth returned. 

You stretched your arms out, enveloping your friend in a tight hug, suddenly feeling a wave of tiredness wash over your body. 

“Yeah~~ I can finally use my hands again~~ What would I do without you, Kacchan?” you giggled, as his cheeks grew red in response to the cutesy nickname. 

His hands moved down to grip your thighs as he warmed your legs up, while you settled your head into the crook of his neck, cuddling into his warmth as you finally let sleep consume you.

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On the other side of the room, Kaminari’s eyes were glued to the television screen, thinking about how Remy was able to control Linguini’s cooking so accurately with a few simple tugs to the hair.

I mean, maybe that’s just his quirk, but like—does this mean that he has a hair pulling kink? Imagine your girlfriend having to marionette you in the bedroom. Would that be embarrassing? Would any of the girls be down to try it? he wondered. 

He reached into his lap to retrieve a piece of popcorn, sulking when his hand hit the bottom of the empty bowl. Sighing, he tore his eyes away from the screen, reaching for a refill, only to freeze at the sight in front of him.

“Yooooo, what goes on” Kaminari whisper-screamed, elbowing Mina in the side, gesturing towards you and Bakugou. 

“No. Fucking. Way.” Mina replied, mouth agape, “Are you kidding?! They’re so cute!!” 

“Damn. Would have never thought. Like?! I knew they were friends but I didn’t think Kacchan could pull a girlfriend!” 

“Are they actually dating though?! I’ve never heard Y/N talk about him like that even once! When did this happen?” 

“I don’t fucking know and I don’t fucking care. I swear to god I’m never gonna let him hear the end of it.” 

“Can y’all pipe down? I’m trying to watch the movie here,” Jirou whispered, annoyance written all over her face.

“No I cannot pipe down Jirou, just look over there and tell me you aren’t shook,” Kaminari fired back. 

“Holy fuck.”

“Right!!!”

Eventually, Kaminari’s whispering spread around to the entire class, as they, one by one, turned to take in the events that had unfolded right underneath their noses. Even Todoroki had awoken from his sleep to gawk at the both of you.

“Awww, they’re so adorable,” Uraraka squealed.

“They really are quite cute,” Momo remarked.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have seen this coming. I had no idea the two of them had feelings for each other,” Midoriya wondered. 

With every passing line from his classmates, Bakugo could feel himself getting angrier and angrier. 

What the fuck do these damn extras think they’re doing? Shut the fuck up and watch the movie!! Bakugou thought, blood boiling.

“Y’know, Bakugou, I didn’t think you of all people would know how to treat a woman right,” Tsuyu chimed in. 

That’s it, Bakugou got up violently, This fucking ends here. 

Being careful not to drop you, Bakugou shifted you onto one arm, as he picked up the blanket that was once covering you both with the other. He headed out into the hallway, pressing the button to call the elevator, and brought you up to the fourth floor. 

He pulled out his keycard as he reached the end of the hallway, stopping in front of the door to his room for a moment as he unlocked it. Pushing the door open, Bakugou made his way over to his bed, and set you down gently.

Or, at least he tried to.

As he lowered your unconscious body to his soft, black sheets, you let out a quiet groan, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck, making it clear that whatever happened, you weren’t going to let go.

Fucking great.

He shook you, trying to wake you up, but to no avail. The most he could get out of you was a soft Kacchan, let me sleep, as you snuggled impossibly closer into him. Sighing, Bakugou defeatedly peeled back his comforter, sliding both of your intertwined bodies under his sheets, tucking both of you in to the best of his abilities. 

As his head hit his pillow, he couldn’t help but stare at your soft features as they were illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through his window. He couldn’t help but admire the way your long eyelashes fluttered over your cheeks with every breath, the way your H/C hair seemed to perfectly frame your face, the way your lips…

The way your lips looked so damn kissable. 

Bakugou didn’t want to admit it to himself, but, as he lay there, eyes drinking in your every feature, he could feel himself falling harder and harder for you. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, synchronizing his breaths with yours, until he too fell into a deep slumber. 

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

You awoke gently, groaning in response to the sunlight hitting your face. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you attempted to sit up.

Huh? you thought, I can’t get up. 

You opened your eyes, and immediately realized that something was wrong. The walls, the ceiling, the window, they looked unfamiliar to you. This was not your room. Looking around, you noticed some neatly organized school books on the desk, black t-shirts on the back of the chair, All Might figurines, and—wait, was that shoujo manga on the nightstand? You suddenly notice an arm wrapped around your torso, possibly the reason why your efforts to sit up failed earlier.

And then you realized that that arm was connected to a very certain spiky-haired blond. Who happened to be your best friend and your crush. And who was currently holding you in a death grip. With his face very close to yours.

You felt your cheeks burning up. 

holyfuckholyfuckholyfuck

[poguesofthebau]

hi! if youre still doing them can i get a ship? my name is sam, im a straight female and i have brown eyes with kinda long brown hair. im about 5'7. im pretty quiet unless im with friends although i can be very talkitive, im very sarcastic. at times i can be stubborn. i care a lot about other peoples feelings and opinions more than i probably should. lowkey a hopeless romantic. i mostly listen to pop and sometimes rock music. i like to draw, watch movies, and hang with friends.

first and foremost... i love your blog. okay now let the ship begin :)

i ship you with jj!! (honorary mention: a lot of the time, you’d seek refuge in pope. aside from jj, pope matched your energy the best of all the pogues, and you often found yourself plopping down next to him on a log at the Boneyard when jj was being annoying, or on the couch in The Chateau when jj wouldn’t get out of the hammock after the nap you’d taken together, or in the back of the van when jj insisted on riding shotgun instead of kie for once. you and pope would just be like... bros. half the time you had super quiet conversations that no one else could hear until one of you burst out laughing. then jj would make a sarcastic comment about pope stealing his girl, and john b would make one about the two of you secretly plotting to dismantle the government or something)

you would be the pogue who insisted on a weekly movie night every thursday during the summer. in your mind, there was no excuse for any of the pogues to miss it, and because they knew how much it meant to you, none of them ever did miss it. eventually, these movie nights led to you and jj’s relationship, so he liked to tell everyone who asked that you made the first move. (not directly true, but we all know how convincing of an argument jj could make, no matter how absurd the lie.) the first few times you guys met up at The Chateau for movie night, summer had barely even started. school had ended on a thursday night, and all five of you had gone straight to john b’s after last period, immediately breaking out the celebratory beers and joints before settling in a few hours later for a movie. the entire time, jj would be snuggled up right beside you, arm tossed around your shoulders, whispering little comments about the film in your ear every few minutes. you’d laugh quietly when he started ranting to you about how much of a rip off the movie re-make you were watching was, and the tiny giggle you let out was apparently enough to light a fire among the pogues. john b and pope were convinced that the two of you secretly had something going on, and, no matter how much you both brushed it off, you knew the taunting and teasing was there to stay for the summer.

unsurprisingly, you were right. john b and pope wouldn’t let it go. the following day, the first official day of summer, the five of you would spend the day on the hms pogue, swimming and fishing and drinking and laughing. when jj grabbed you by the waist, both of you laughing loudly and uncontrollably, and dragged you off the boat and into the water with him, the other boys started up again. “jesus christ, jj, at least act like you’re not desperate!” john b would call as you and jj paddled around to the other side of the boat. “i know, dude,” pope would jump in. “just because you’re in the water now, doesn’t mean you washed the love off your face.” you’d snort at that, jj throwing his friends the finger. kie simply sat there, observing the interaction between her friends with a smirk. she, too, had her own little theory that jj felt some special kind of way about you, but she was holding on to it until she could get one of you alone to discuss it. little did you know, she actually would get jj alone the next day. after your day on the water, everyone would return to their respective homes to clean up and get a good night’s sleep before the first saturday night Boneyard party of the summer. the next afternoon, when kie and jj both coincidentally arrived at jb’s at the same time, she saw her opportunity. “hey, by the way,” kie would say after greeting the blonde, pulling him back by the shoulder with a sweet, sarcastic smile. “how long have you been in love with sam?” his face would pale for a second, but just as he regained his composure to jab back at her, you were stepping out of the Chateau with a grin on your face. “who’s ready to fuck the Boneyard up this summer? come on, losers, me and john b already started pregaming!” with one last knowing grin thrown at jj, kie was scurrying up the stairs and grabbing a beer and getting the party started. that night, jj got totally sloshed and fully confessed his feelings to kiara. he also made her swear on the pogues not to leak his secret before he could confess it to you.

so a few more weeks would go by, jj and kie both keeping his secret perfectly. they’d have short interactions of just the two of them, where the two would gush like teenage girls over the cute thing you’d said to jj one afternoon, or how beautiful you looked in that one sundress you’d worn for a day of hanging around at john b’s. during all the following movie nights, jj would be sure to save you a seat next to him on the couch, always slyly putting that arm around you and telling you little fun facts about the films you’d watch. eventually you caught on to jj and kie’s behavior, and how sneaky they were being. on top of that, you finally admitted to yourself how special jj made you feel. funny enough, you’d wind up confiding in pope and john b about your newfound feelings for the reckless blonde. there’d be one day a few weeks into the summer when kie had to work at The Wreck and jj had to work at the kook hotel, but the rest of you had the day off, so you, pope, and jb would take the boat out for a chill day of fishing and tanning. you’d be laying out on the front of the boat, pope in the driver’s seat and john b throwing a net out to try to catch something for dinner. (the vibes that i am imagining on this boat... immaculate. something about pope x john b seems so comfortable and just literally vibey to me idk but i love it.) you’d have your eyes closed and a hand thrown over your face to block out the sun as you chatted with the boys, and eventually the topic would flow over to jj. “i dunno, i think him and kie might kind of have a thing or something,” you’d admit, disappointment prominent and obvious in your voice. “which, like, i don’t really care, but it’s just kind of... i don’t know.” pope would be looking at you from his spot on the boat, a slightly concerned look on his face. john b would just shrug, shaking his head a little as he spoke despite your eyes being closed. “i don’t really think it’s serious. i’ve noticed them like, whispering a little, too, i guess, but i don’t think it’s a big deal.” you’d sigh at john b’s words, your hand falling from your face as you flipped onto your side to look at your boys. “can i just admit something to you guys? but it has to stay on this boat. no kie, and no jj. this is between the three of us only. promise?” john b would draw an invisible cross over his heart as pope raised his right hand and gave you a quick scout’s honor. “it’s stupid, but i just thought maybe jj had a little thing for me. so with all this kie shit, i’m just kind of confused.” pope’s eyes would widen and john b’s eyebrows would raise. “seriously, do not repeat what i just said. i will kill you both.” “maybe you should just tell jj before either of us get the chance, then,” john b would offer. you’d roll your eyes, laying flat on your back again. “no, seriously,” pope would agree. “just because he’s been spending some extra time with kie doesn’t mean he feels that way about her. maybe they’re talking about you all the time. you never know.” although you didn’t know that pope’s idea was actually the truth, it really got you thinking.

the next thursday on movie night, you decided to sit between pope and john b instead of snuggling into jj’s side. it seemed like a harmless change to the other three pogues, but you could see jj burning up inside. he sat through the entire movie with his jaw locked, grinding his teeth when he heard you mumble something to john b about the movie. by the time the film was over, jj was about to explode, and everyone noticed. “you good, buddy?” john b would ask twenty minutes later when he saw jj’s knuckles going white from how tight his grip on his beer was. he’d glare at his friend before turning to you. “can you come outside with me for a second?” you’d glance at pope in a panic before quickly nodding and standing. jj stormed out of the house in front of you, dropping into a hammock and running a hand through his hair as you nervously followed. “what’s up?” you’d timidly ask. while your voice was steady, your mind was running a mile a minute. he knows. he hates me. i should’ve known not to tell the boys. with their big fucking mouths, they probably-- “do you have a thing for john b, or something?” you were stunned out of your thoughts, freezing where you stood at the (seemingly impossible) question. “why would you think that?” you’d finally ask, jj letting out a puff of air. “i-- can you just answer the question?” you’d shake your head, causing him to sigh. “then why’d you sit next to him? you always sit with me on movie night.” you’d shrug, shuffling your feet and avoiding eye contact. “i dunno. i thought you’d wanna sit with kie.” there was a moment of silence then, and you could’ve sworn you felt your friendship dying. you were gonna lose jj, because of some stupid crush, and you were going to absolutely break over it. “you’re an idiot,” jj would mumble under his breath after thinking for a few moments. as you looked at him, completely puzzled by his words, he was standing swiftly from the hammock and approaching you quickly. “such a fucking idiot, sam.” those would be his last words before his hands were suddenly on the sides of your face, tucking your hair behind your ears, his lips kissing you. barely seconds into the kiss, you heard whooping and screaming from behind you. when you pulled back from jj, he was smirking, raising his middle finger once again to pope, john b, and kie, who were all standing in the door of the Chateau, cheering you on. you, however, were still confused beyond belief, unable to move your eyes from him. he finally looked back to you, still smiling. “are you okay?” he’d laugh, tucking another stray hair behind your ear. “what was that?” he’d tilt his head at you, smile now replaced by a smitten look. “i thought-- i thought you and kie--” you simply shook your head in place of words, causing jj to laugh. “i told you you’re an idiot. every time i was with kie, it was to talk about you.” your jaw dropped at that, and you spun to face your friends. “pope, you fucking genius! you were right!” as per usual. pope was always right, especially when it came to his best friends.