#yes he's a scum who ruined many lives but i Know that rather than feel actual disgust/hatred towards him as a character

[leatherbookmark]

i love, and by that i mean i find it very funny, when fans are one feet in “these guys and those are bad”, the other feet in “actually, they’re all just guys”. like, you can tell by their treatment of the characters that there’s a need for someone to be the bad guy, either in a morally irredeemable way or in the “he’s an asshole and no one likes him” way.

(i’m not necessarily saying there’s a need to redeem and love characters like sect leader yao, who’s more of a tool to show how the society behaves than a fully-fledged character.)

but i’ve noticed that it can be almost like a stepladder, in a way. first step is “maybe jgy wasn’t all that bad! let’s make him sympathetic”. then it depends, but it’s either sms or xy who gets the “well you’re not that evil either” treatment, and the other dude becomes the step that the author doesn’t really want to reach. so for example, jgy and sms are just two dudes struggling to fit in the society, but xy is a violent freak and that’s unacceptable! or: jgy and xy are fun and sexy buddies, but they hate sms’s obsessive slimy vibes, etc, etc

or the way some parts of the ofmd fandom went okay, he’s allowed because there’s something very wrong with his gay head at izzy but Not at calico jack, so he ends up as the ultimate bad guy even though he’s like... as i said. a product of his environment. a guy.

[youn9racha]

I Know (Part I)

Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader

Genre: suggestive

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: slight adult content, swearing, suggestive actions, elements of stalker behavior

Extra notes: characters mentioned are all above the age 21 years, a lot of hatred towards the male figure lol. Also this is my first time writing on tumblr, so please bare with me, it may not be the best, but I still hope you enjoy it :)

And baby, I know, I know whatever city you’re in, you’re still the boy that I’d pick…

part ii is up !!!

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This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised

—————————————————————————————————

Men…

Truly the scums of the Earth, who do no good for no one, and are an absolute menace to society. But oh, do I enjoy the looks of their faces at times. The way they would look at me with full hope and infatuation, with full beliefs that I would step down and give them all they want from me.

Hmph. How cute… and pathetic. How pathetic to assume and lower my standards for them. They all are the same. All but one however.

All that men hating… and yet, only one I’d be willing to go down to his level.

Yes, its him… He whom a lot would have not sought to be with, not many would expect a bombshell like myself would be with. But I do not see that in him, not an ounce of what many insecure individuals would see. I see something striking that not many could see, an underrated dignified beauty that anyone could wish to admire. A fanciable and irresistible personality and face.

He was a man.. but a pleasant one.

It all started when I moved in into a new flat for myself. I previously left the old complex due to the cramped environment I had that left me feeling uneasy and stressed, as well as it wasn’t even my apartment, it was for my partner, well, ex-partner. It was simply wasn’t working out, due to our seeming never ending conflicts. But enough of the past, let us move on..

I found this flat that is comfortable and the rent pays well, its only downside is that my room’s window is faced to the next door’s flat, however it’s not a big detriment or big turn off for me so it was fine by me, and also it was prone to have random, yet rare, blackout, but then again what neighborhood doesn’t have that. Anyhow, I was set to take the complex, but before I did, I have noticed something about the neighbor’s window next to me. It was a man. A really good looking one too. Giving his side profile, he was laying on his bed, his black hair covered head bopping with earphones placed in ears, laptop placed in his revealing shorts adorned lap. My eyes began started to stare into his arms then onto his naked well built chest, which indicates that he likes to keep up with his health, as his ring adorned hands was tapping away in his keyboard. I quickly looked away when I saw him repositioned his laptop, and walked out of the soon-to-be my room.

Great… I’ve entered Hell.

But I didn’t let it affect my decisions and got the apartment nonetheless, here I am now, weeks after the incident, sitting in my car, outside of the building, still thinking about the man in his laptop. Has he noticed that I was staring at him? Does he know that there’s gonna be someone living next to him? I hope not. And if he has, I must apologize to him. But before that, let me unload my car. I have gradually put my stuff into the complex as the days go by, it seems dragging, but it felt like the time went by fast, so I’m glad I have done that. However, today was different, as I took stuff more than I usually did, as I desperately do not want to go back to my ex. Typically, I never had assistance, as usually my best friend would join in and help out, but at a time I needed them the most, they had to be really sick. They still were willing to help, but I insisted that they shouldn’t and should rest.

After thinking, I sighed and got out my car, ready to fight the battle that is putting my stuff into my complex. I opened the trunk, eyes meeting my stuff, and I begin to groan. ‘Dammit, (y/n), why do you have that many stuff?!’ I thought to myself. I really should’ve had at least one more visit to my ex, but alas I picked to just take all all together in one day. I picked up a box until..

“Need any help?” I heard someone behind me asking me. I turned around and looked at the source. ‘God damn, is it just me, or does this town just bring out more attractive people?’ I thought to myself, as I see a man that looked like he could be at a museum. He had a sandy brown curly hair, slightly tanned skin, really plump and a crazy jawline. He donned a tank top that barely covered his side torso, and basket ball shorts that complimented his really nice, thick… thighs… yeah… Needless to say he was really attractive.

It seems that I was ogling him, rather than responding, as he shyly smiled and waved his hand in front of my face, “hello,” he softly said as I shook my head and looked back at his face apologetically.

“I am so sorry, I am just really tired, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” I cringed at my pathetic way of justifying of me literally internally lusting over him. I really am turning into someone I dread to be. How can I forgive myself?

“That’s okay, I know how moving can get tiring, and I sense that you’re alone, so please let me and my friend help you out.” He said, sympathetically smiling a sweet smile, already grabbing a box out of my hand. God, if this man has a partner, then they’re the luckiest person ever, and if he’s single, I’ll gladly hand him a ring. What am I saying? (y/n), what the hell has gotten into you?!

“I’m Christopher, but you can call me Chris or Chan, whichever you prefer is fine, what’s your name?” The generous man’s voice interrupted my inner battle and I found myself looking at him again. “(y/n)” I smiled at him, which he nodded back.

“Nice to meet you,” Chan said, looking back and see that his friend showed up, meanwhile, I went back to my trunk and got out more stuff from my car “oh, there he is!” Chan enthusiastically announced.

“(y/n), meet my friend and roommate, Changbin.” Chris said, while I got out the box and looked at the other man, my face shifted from contentment to horrific.

Its the man with the laptop.

“Hello? Chan, are you sure she’s okay?” Changbin looked at Chris with worry. “Yeah, she’s just tired, just nudge her.”

It’s like Chris knew me too well, despite meeting for less than 10 minutes, as Chris slightly pushed me with the box, not enough to hurt me, but enough to put me out of a trance.

“huh? I did it again, did I?” I looked at Chan, worryingly, which he nodded. I looked back at Changbin and the pathetic act was brought up again.

“I am so sorry, I don’t know what has gotten into me.” I apologized once again, which Changbin only smirked. “Don’t worry about it,” He said, carrying a box. Something about that smirk and tone seems off. Not off in a menacing way, but off in a… coy way. Maybe not the best term to use, maybe I am just over analyzing, but I am for sure either winning the lottery tonight, or convinced that the sun will rise from the west tomorrow, since I have two very attractive men helping out, one of which is someone whom I may have an odd fascination for a while now.

~~

The two have been nothing but a delight to interact with, their help with the stuff had done me even more than just a solid. However, I still in a way feel a bit unsettled by Changbin. It wasn’t that he was a creep, or did anything to make me uncomfortable, its just this feeling of guilt I carry with me. Meanwhile, I didn’t attempt anything, and I just simply just admired him from afar, it still felt wrong that I was just looking at him while he was barely wearing anything, let alone while not him paying attention. Despite this, it seems that he doesn’t know that I did what I did, which is why I chose to confront him about it when the time is right, which is probably when we start getting even more comfortable. I have exchanged numbers with both men, even though I could probably just go out my window and yell out their names, but I’d rather not disturb the peace.

Two good looking men are now my neighbors… Who would have thought? Whichever entity that is in existence have decided to play with me, because to them, my humiliation would be their laughing stock, because they definitely would have seen what is to become of me.

Its been a week in since I moved, and interacted with the two Chans, and I am glad that a curtain was installed onto my room, just so I wouldn’t carry even more guilt than I already do. But the thing is, I would lie that I still haven’t thought of Changbin. While I would have thought that Chris fitting into more of my ideal type, Changbin however held a mysterious power that Chan didn’t.

Ever since the time I first laid eyes on Changbin, he has never left my mind. He has started to creep up in my fantasies and dreams in every way shape of form. I couldn’t stop thinking of how his arms would look around my waist, how his lips would feel in my skin, or how his hands would wander around, exploring places that many men often fail to find to make me feel good, or how his voice would be like when talking as he puts his mouth by my ear— God, this is getting out of hand, I would think.

What if he had a girlfriend? What if he wasn’t attracted to women in general? What if he finds you a creep?

So many more endless questions would come in to ruin me, but its not like i have a choice, he just happened to settle into my dreams and thoughts, and went with it.

I decided to take a shower to try and distract myself from these thoughts, which didn’t help at all, as the hot water cascading my skin did nothing but accelerated my lustful thoughts. I decided to get out of the shower, as it didn’t help my case.

Damn you, Changbin.

I sighed, put on some underwear and a robe while having a towel wrapped around my hair. I got out of the bathroom and back to my room. It was dark out, and in my room, the only light came out of it were my night lamp, which barely lit up the whole room. I checked the window, making sure Changbin wasn’t there, or at least not facing the window, only to see his window being covered with curtains.

Great timing, could’ve used that when I first saw you, dipshit.

But nonetheless, I was really glad at least he wasn’t visible. I laid back on my bed, and decided to look through social media, as anyone should. While in the middle of a instagram scroll, I see a caller popping through at the top of the screen…

It was Changbin.

[nagitolovebug]

How did komahina co-parent at first? How was hajimes reaction to the twins? Did bebi like getting siblings

komahina's co-parenting at first was...definitely an Ordeal. not even because of bebi, but bc komahina is a mess. originally hajime was very insecure about his role in bebi's life, as he had very clearly asserted himself as a separate person from izuru and that he was going to live as hajime and not someone else- so wouldn't that make bebi Not his kid? sure, they're his genetically, but in theory.... that was the dilemma he dealt with. he'd already grown attached to them when he was caring for them while nagito was still in a coma and worries now that nagito has woken up, his job is done, and that nagito won't want him around bebi anymore. in turn, nagito is worried that bc hajime is asserting himself as separate from izuru that he doesn't see bebi as his kid and will not be interested in raising them, that bebi will lose their father and nagito will lose his once-husband (lurking somewhere in hajime's subconscious...) turned best friend. they live together right off the bat, sleeping in the same bed (bebi likes to be held by the 2 of them to fall asleep...but even when bebi sleeps in their own bed they didn't think to get separate bedrooms or anything...) and end up becoming very.....affectionate with one another despite their claims that they're purely platonic. they "platonically" hold hands, cuddle, kiss, kiss, and more...intimate things in the cover of night ;) nagito's convinced hajime is just "using him for stress relief" and he's only truly staying bc he'd feel guilty leaving bebi. hajime thinks they're together. this miscommunication is not truly cleared up until hajime proposes. other than that, they both love bebi very very much and spend all their time with bebi, doting on them, playing with them, caring for them.

as for hajime's reaction to the twins- that in itself was also an Ordeal! when nagito found out he was pregnant again, bebi was very sick and in the hospital, which was very hard on nagito as he blamed himself. and he had resigned himself to leaving bebi and hajime, thinking they'd be safer without him in their lives. hajime was an adult who was fully informed of the danger of nagito's luck and had izuru's luck to protect him ! but bebi couldn't consent to that. he did not want to risk hurting his child in any capacity. so he resigned himself to leaving...but the news of pregnancy only devastated him further. to think he'd ruin not only bebi and hajime's lives but the life of another baby (not knowing it was twins lol)....it was too much for him. the plan was to leave the island, suffer through the pregnancy by himself, and come back after the birth to drop their new baby off before disappearing forever.

trans male pregnancy under the cut

bc nagito's carrying twins, the toll on his body during this pregnancy is far worse than it was during despair. he becomes very weak and sickly, especially with the added stress and despair of trying to leave his 'best friend' and kid, his kid being in the hospital,,, he hasn't been taking care of himself. the night bebi returns from the hospital (fully recovered! ...but having finally fully lost their vision in their right eye), hajime catches nagito trying to leave. he'd collapsed on his way out, having gotten incredibly dizzy. he'd left nothing but a note on the nightstand reading, "Be back soon." hajime wakes up to an empty bed and almost (almost) panics, steadies his breaths to the small snores of a sleeping baby in a nearby crib. he finds nagito half unconscious on the beach slumped on a duffel bag. "nagito??? nagito???? nagito!!! oh, thank god" "h...inata-kun?" "yea, it's me, come on, let's get you-" and nagitos eyes clear up and he shoves hajime away. "nagito-?" "stay away from me!" "nagito, you're not in your right mind, let's go back to the cabin-" "...how did you find me." "well, I found your note, which scared me shitless- I had no idea where you were or what had happened to you and frankly, I'm pretty pissed about that, but that can wait until I know you're safe-" "I'm so sorry, hinata-kun, I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry, hinata-kun, hinata-kun, hinata-kun-" "jeez, I said you can call me hajime... it's alright, relax, i'm not really mad. I was just worried." "you don't understand, you have to get away from me now-" "what are you even doing out here. what's with the bag" "hinata-kun." "....where were you going" "I hadn't decided yet" "why" "I-" "just bc you're in remission, you think you can just do whatever you want? what if something happened to you? goddamn it, you're not bullet proof, nagito! I know you're working on it, I know you're trying, but fuck you're so goddamn selfish! people care about you! I care about you! why can't you just understand that!" "i won't let myself hurt you!" "you're hurting me now!" "this will ruin your life, i will ruin your life-" "im your fucking....best friend, just tell me what's wrong, i can help you-" "nobody can help me, it's too late for me..." "goddamn it, nagito, please-!" and nagitos voice breaks when he whispers. "...i'm pregnant" ".......what" and nagito breaks into a quiet sob "I'm pregnant, hajime, and no one else on this island would dare defile themselves with me the way you have..." "are you serious?" "please don't make me say it again" and maybe if nagito weren't lost in a spiral of self deprecation and if his eyes weren't swimming with tears, he would've seen the nervous smile that broke out on hajime's face, the joy in his voice. "nagito, that's-!" "horrible? disgusting? i know I'm an abomination, hajime, maybe if my pathetic body functioned the way it was meant to-" "don't say that. don't you ever say that" "please just leave..." "you...you were pregnant with our kid and you were gonna leave??? what if you relapsed? what if you needed me?" hajime grabbed his face and forced nagito to look at him. "why are you doing this?" nagito laughed breathlessly, hysterically. "don't worry, hinata-kun, i would have brought them back! i simply didnt want to force you through the despair of having someone as putrid as me being pregnant, knowing that you've procreated with the lowest scum of the earth....surely it would ruin you. besides, i could never take your child from their father. nor would i subject them to my luck...will you let me go now, knowing your child will be alright" "they're your kid too" "for the sake of their sanity I'd rather keep that to myself" hajime steeled his expression, then grabbed Nagito's wrist. "we're going back to the cabin. we'll talk more in the morning." "Hinata-kun, let go of me." "nagito, let's go." "hinata, let go" "I'm not leaving you out here" nagito starts tearing up again and scratching frantically at his own skin. "please" "we're leaving." and hajime picks nagito up (he was

probably still too dizzy to walk anyway). but nagito starts screaming and thrashing and crying and weakly hitting hajime. "LET ME GO, LET ME GO, LET ME GO, IM GONNA HURT YOU, IM GONNA KILL YOU, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE-" and hajime starts silently crying too but he just holds on tighter and keeps walking. i think they get to the cabin and hajime sets him down on the bed and nagito starts punching hajimes chest (not hard) but hajime just grabs his wrists and holds them tight as nagito struggles and cries softly. "i ruined your life..me and this broken body of mine." "i...love you. you're not broken. I'm not leaving and neither are you." "i hate you..." "you're the best thing that ever happened to me." "I'll kill you..." "you won't." "why won't you just leave.." "why won't you stay." "..." "lets go to bed. we'll see mikan in the morning. get some rest." nagito is still scratching at his skin when hajime pulls him against his chest and forces nagito to lay down with him. "i love you" "im scared..." "i know" "im so sorry.." "i know. it's ok" "it's not" "as long as you're still with me, it is." "you're too kind to me.." "i love you." "how many times are you going to say that." "as many times as it takes for you to believe it." and the conversation pitters off as nagito silently sobs into hajime's chest until he passes out while Hajime rubs small circles into his back and presses kisses to his head. nagito wakes up with his eyes swollen face still tucked into Hajime's chest and he knows hajime's awake bc he can feel his chest vibrating with light hums and soft strokes to his hair. nagito looks up and licks his lips, eyes watering again when he sees hajime's patient gaze, his eyes crinkling in a worried smile, extenuating the eyebags and evident exhaustion. "hinata-kun, i'm so s-" "shhh. none of that. we're seeing mikan in a bit, i already called her. i'm sorry for not noticing what was going on. it must have been so hard dealing with this alone.." "you shouldn't have to deal with it.." "i want to. i love you. we're in this together. for as long as you'll have me. it's hard, it's really hard sometimes, because i hate seeing you like this..it makes me feel so helpless it reminds me of-- the. program. but it's worth it. for you, it's always worth it." "hinata..." "keep resting. don't strain yourself too much." "i love you...i love you..i love you ..." "i know." going to see mikan and mikan warns them that Yes nagito is in fact pregnant and the fact that he's just come off of chemo and is still in remission is gonna make the pregnancy tough on him physically and that he's gonna get about as sick as he was before but promises it's temporary and that she guarantees he'll see the baby to full term ("link that's medically incorrect" idc link does what he wants Hajime has a dude put in his head via lobotomy science is a liar sometimes) and hajime holds nagito's hand the entire time and presses a kiss to his cheek when he cries a little when mikan says the baby will be healthy and ok and survive and nagito turns to him and gives him a watery smile before laughing and crying joyously a little more and thats when hajime knows they'll be ok. they do talk more abt this whole thing, nagito's motives, bebi,,,,but that's like a 1k fic and this post is alr long enough 😅maybe i'll polish it and make it a fic. long story short, hajime's personally extremely happy that nagito's pregnant, but his worry over nagito's health as a whole, physical and mental kinda trumped that but past that- it's nothing but excitement! (they did not know they were having twins...so excitement and a surprise!) as for bebi, they were very happy to be getting a sibling! they love mimicking everyone they see by talking to their papa's tummy, touching it, generally babbling to komahina how they're gonna share their toys with the baby, will the baby play with them, can they share a room? they always want more love in their life !

[five-rivers]

Adoption

Based on a prompt by @fabnamessuggestedbytumbler for the Phic Phight! An excuse for Lost Time fluff? Don't mind if I do...

.

.

.

The Ghost Zone had a legal system. A court system. A prison system. A police system. A set of established rules. There were even lawyers.

In theory.

In reality the courts (Observants) refused to look at anything that wasn't world ending. Every group had their own, private prison. The police made up their own rules and, even then, broke them regularly. The actual rules had gone several hundred years without an update and referred to places, organizations, and customs that no longer existed. The lawyers were all clinically depressed. That's what happens when there's no active, unifying head of state for hundreds of years.

Still. Every so often a sufficiently foolish ghost, possessed of a brave purpose, would attempt to navigate the ruins of the legal system. Few made it out alive.

(True, being ghosts, they didn't necessarily go into it alive, but it's the thought that counts.)

But those who did make it out (metaphorically) alive, did so with prizes... well, not great enough, but something enough to convince others to make the attempt. Hence Clockwork's current location and headache.

"Sign the paper, Walker," snapped Clockwork.

"That would be against the rules," said Walker, leaning back in his stupid chair. Clockwork's nonexistent spine hurt just from looking at it.

Maybe he should give himself a spine, just so he'd have a reason to feel this way.

"How," he began, "would it be against the rules? This form needs to be signed by a law enforcement official that has seen or witnessed conclusive evidence the child in question being abused by their natural parents. That is you."

"Yes, but the law enforcement officer must first get a warrant approved by an appropriate court in order to collect such evidence," countered Walker.

"Not if the official came across the evidence or act of abuse while pursuing a different case or simply following standard operating procedure. You saw them shoot at him. His mother put a gun to his head. Have mercy, Walker. I know you don't like him, but he is a child who needs guidance. Not a criminal."

"He's a criminal in my books," said Walker.

"What he did was hardly a crime."

"Jailbreak is a crime!"

"Not if one is unjustly imprisoned," said Clockwork. "He was attempting to remove the foreign object." No matter that possessing material-plane items wasn't an actual crime.

"He let others escape!"

"And what were they imprisoned for?"

Walker grumbled. "Some of them are dangerous, and even he knew that," said Walker, nodding at the file spread over his desk.

"Consider it a cry for help. While you were watching him," stalking him, Clockwork did not say, "on the material plane, did he really strike you as criminally inclined? Or perhaps he was simply confused and scared? One thousand years is a very long time in human terms. The targets of his Obsession would have died. Even if he did commit a misdemeanor, he would have rightly been granted clemency, or at least had his sentence deferred."

Walker frowned.

"That's not what this is about, is it? You covering up a mistake?"

"No," said Walker.

Clockwork blinked, quickly running through potential futures. "No one will care that you crossed the veil without authorization. No one who can do anything about it, in any case."

"There'll be an investigation if I sign that there piece of paper. What's the big deal, anyway? Like you said, humans don't live that long. Just wait fifty years."

"They almost ended him," said Clockwork. "He's a child. Do you really want that on your conscience? With the knowledge that you could have stopped it?"

Sighing, Walker picked up his pen.

.

Danny went to school. Mainly, he went because he didn't know what else to do. He needed the routine, even if the routine was a lie and he felt like trash.

"You could have stayed," whispered Sam, as his hand inched towards the bandages on his chest for the fifth time that morning. "They wouldn't have noticed you."

Danny shook his head. His hand shook more. He put it back in his lap. "It wouldn't have been right. Besides, I need a passing grade in this class, right?" He couldn't get another F, or his parents would kill him, except- except- except-

They had already tried to kill him.

Everything had gone so much worse than he had ever imagined- No. That wasn't quite right. It had gone- It had...

At least he hadn't been cut open.

(Much.)

"Mr. Fenton?"

Danny jumped, banging his knees painfully on the underside of his desk. He looked up, wildly, tensing himself to flee, only the fact that he was currently human keeping his powers from activating.

(Well, that and... what had been done to him.)

When had Mr. Lancer gotten there?

"What?" he asked, breathlessly.

"Are- Are you alright, Mr. Fenton?"

"I'm fine," Danny said. He wasn't. His ghost half was urging him to go find a nice, dark, quiet, safe corner to hide in, preferably one in the Ghost Zone, his heart was hammering out of his chest, he'd spent the night not-sleeping in one of the guestrooms in Sam's house, and that was before even touching on his injuries.

He forced a smile. Mr. Lancer was one of the few teachers who hadn't given up on him, which was alternately touching and frustrating.

"You look sick," said Mr. Lancer. "Are you sure you don't want to call home?"

Danny's heart stuttered, his core painfully cold. "I'm sure," he said.

"Today is a project day," said Mr. Lancer. "You wouldn't be missing anything in this class, and I can talk to your other teachers."

"No, I'm fine."

.

The legal clerk for the family court was the kind of ghost who seemed to have fused with her role. The sleeves and collar of her shirt melded seamlessly with her skin. Her nails were brass pen nibs. The lenses of her glasses were part of her face.

She lived in either the basement or the attic of this particular building, depending on how one oriented themselves, among barely-organized stacks of books and papers. There were parchment scrolls and stone tablets, too, the later often re-purposed as elements of the room's furniture. Green-marbled filing cabinets grew out of the walls, and electronic somethings glittered out of the shadows.

The clerk had been reviewing Clockwork's paperwork for literal days. Rather, she would have been, if Clockwork hadn't surreptitiously dropped a time medallion around her neck and stopped time.

She hummed, thoughtfully. "In this document, you are using the pronoun tsai to refer to the adoptee. Are you certain you don't mean tusui? Or perhaps chahe?"

"Absolutely," said Clockwork. The intimation that he wasn't fluent in nchabhatsi was insulting. On the other hand, the requirement for that particular piece of paperwork to be in the language was also, in his opinion, rather ridiculous. Many ghosts, especially the recently dead, did not know nchabhatsi.

"The adoptee is liminal?"

"Yes," said Clockwork.

"Hmm." She stood up and flew from her desk to an inverted bookshelf anchored to the ceiling. From a box she took a huge sheaf of papers, and blew an amount of dust from them that was unhealthy even to a ghost. "It has been a while since we used these," she said, giving Clockwork a faded-ivory smile. "You'll need to fill these out and have them notarized by the proper officials before you can proceed. Liminal spirits are so rare, after all! They require special care. Oh!" Her hands fluttered. "And I'll have to get in contact with our liminality expert. That may take some time."

"If you can give me their name," said Clockwork, "I will take care of it." He gingerly took the stack of slightly-decayed paper. Had it really been so long since a partly-human child had been adopted? Probably.

"Oh, you're such a dear," said the clerk, not noticing the sudden absence of the medallion around her neck. "But that paperwork won't do itself, and-"

"It's done," said Clockwork. Fulfilling some of the new requirements had been more challenging than others and avoiding a paradox had taken considerable self-control, but what good were his temporal abilities if he couldn't use them for personal gain now and again? None at all.

"Ah," said the clerk.

.

Familiar, and very loud, voices spilled from the hallway near the office. Danny, one hand on his locker, trying to remember his combination, froze like a deer in headlights. His heartbeat picked up, his core buzzed frantically. He couldn't move. Grey crept in along the edges of his vision.

"... not him. It was never him! He's dead-"

"Mrs. Fenton, Mr. Fenton, I'm not sure what you're getting at, here, but your son has been at school all day, and we-"

"A ghost killed him and took his place! It's been playing a sick game with us this whole time!"

"Danny would never have gotten grades like this. We should have noticed the lower intellect right away, if nothing else."

"That's-" spluttered Mr. Lancer. "You- Daniel's work is exemplary, what little of it he turns in. I'm going to have to ask you to go back to the office-"

"No! Not until that piece of ectoplasmic scum is wiped from the face of the Earth!"

"Danny," said Tucker, much closer. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Right. Ghostly super hearing. Tucker and Sam, staring at him with concern, couldn't know.

"They're here," he managed, the words like sandpaper in his throat.

Sam uttered a word that would have sent her mother into a screeching fit. "We need to get you out of here," she said putting a hand on his back and pushing him down the hall.

"I'll run interference," said Tucker. "Make sure they can't follow you in the GAV."

"Good thinking," said Sam.

"Call me when you're safe," said Tucker, peeling off, presumably to hack the GAV.

"Danny, breathe," ordered Sam, as she propelled him through the double doors at the back of the school. "We're going to get you through this."

.

Clockwork had resorted to trapping the legal complex in a massive temporal bubble. Not the neatest solution, true, and it seemed to encourage the various functionaries, regulators, and bureaucrats to take even more time to process even the simplest request, but at least it would keep Daniel's suffering in the meantime to a minimum.

However, that didn't change the fact that he had been bouncing back and forth between the various floors of the building like a ping-pong ball, never getting closer to the solitary family court judge, for well over a subjective year. He was exhausted, frustrated, and he missed Daniel.

"You will be able to provide steady, stable access to the adoptee's preferred haunt?" asked his present interviewer.

"Yes," said Clockwork, dully. The room was ringed with runes that prevented deception of any kind.

"You will be able to provide shelter adequate for both his ghostly and human form?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. He had answered these questions so many times before.

"You have taken the mandated class on liminality?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. He was beginning to understand why other ghosts just gave up and sought extralegal solutions.

"You are aware of a liminal spirit's developmental and emotional needs?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. This was just so boring.

"And are you able to satisfy those needs?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. If only it would end.

The interviewer nodded. "Then we're done here," he said.

"Ye- What? Does that mean I can see the judge?" asked Clockwork, hopefully.

"No. That means that your adoption motion can move on to the next stage," said the interviewer. "Our liminality expert will examine your arrangements and determine whether or not they are sufficient, and we will contact law enforcement to follow up on your claim that the adoptee is being abused."

Clockwork bit back a groan. At least he was making progress.

.

They cut through the empty field behind the school, angling back toward the surrounding neighborhood. The grass came up to their chests, except where there were holes, mounds, and gouges from ghost fights. When there was one in the school, Danny tried to bring it out here, so people wouldn't get hurt.

He wasn't often successful.

Sam led the way. Danny felt- He felt ashamed. If his powers were working, he would be able to fly them away, or at least turn them invisible. This would all be so much easier. He could have taken care of himself, and Sam and Tucker wouldn't get in trouble, because they would definitely get in trouble for this. But he couldn't.

He couldn't even convince his parents that he was himself. He had to screw that up, too.

Before, he had thought, worse case scenario would be that they'd try to 'fix' him, to remove his ghost half, or maybe they'd think he was overshadowed. At least, he'd convinced himself of that, convinced himself that dissection would be off the table if he ever told them, that they would still love him. Maybe they might still want to do tests, but they'd love him. They wouldn't want to hurt him.

But he had been so, so wrong. They didn't believe him. They thought he had killed himself, replaced himself.

They had tried to cut him open.

(They succeeded.)

His core shuddered at the memory.

At least, though, there hadn't been any ghost attacks today. He wouldn't have been able to fight anything stronger than the Box Ghost. Heck, he might have lost to the Box Ghost. Like this, he would have to leave the ghosts to his parents, Valerie, or the GIW, none of which were particularly good options for the hunters, the ghosts, or the innocent bystanders of Amity Park.

His core pulsed uncomfortably at the thought of any of them getting hurt, including his parents.

He flinched. His core had been very jumpy, very active ever since... it... happened. Usually it only did this while he was in ghost form, and was otherwise almost dormant.

"Are you okay?" asked Sam. "Is it hurting?" She was the one who had bandaged him up last night.

"We can't stop now," said Danny.

Sam flattened her lips. "That isn't an answer. As soon as we get somewhere quiet, I'm checking you out, okay?"

"Yeah," said Danny.

When they reached the short fence, Sam gave him a boost to get over and they made their way into the suburb. There was a small library branch down the road a ways. It had a small family bathroom that Sam and Tucker had patched Danny up in before. It would be a good place to regroup before trying to put as much distance between them and Danny's parents as possible.

"We could take the city bus, I think," said Sam. "There's a stop outside the library. Maybe we could go to Elmerton?"

"Maybe," said Danny.

"Any ETA on Jazz since last night?"

Danny shook his head. "She couldn't get a flight. She's taking a Greyhound. Won't be here 'til-"

There was a beep. Danny stopped breathing. That could have been anything, a phone, a watch, a car, something from a building, but something about it tickled at Danny's brain as wrong.

"There is a ghost twenty feet in front of you."

The whine of a charging ectogun-

Sam slammed into his side, and they both fell. Danny felt the cut on his chest begin to bleed again, and he curled around it protectively. It hurt so much more than it should, and Danny wondered if that was because ghosts were ultimately shaped by their minds and his was in so much pain right now.

His parents had just shot at him. From behind. Not ghost him, Phantom him, either. Human him.

They hated him. All of him. Not just half of him.

His ghost sense went off. Because things could always get worse for Danny and the universe apparently hated him.

He struggled into a sitting position and blinked, confused. There were people surrounding him, protecting him, standing between him and his parents. Sam was shouting. Danny couldn't make out what she was saying, what anyone was saying, not with his heart pounding in his ears.

"Kid," said one man, shaking his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Danny considered that. "No," he said, finally.

The man pulled a phone from his pocket and began saying something about calling the hospital. Normally, Danny would be worried about that, but he was looking for the ghosts. It was possible one of the more benevolent spirits that haunted Amity Park had happened across the scene, but, somehow, Danny doubted it.

His ghost sense went off again. He whimpered.

His people were in danger.

Ghosts usually came for him (he was leading them here, an evil ghost, causing all this trouble, murderer), or at least attacked him first, to get rid of him as a threat. He staggered to his feet. He had to get away. Still clutching his chest, he turned and bolted.

Almost at once, he was surrounded by ghosts in police gear. Walker's goons. Definitely stronger than the Box Ghost. Still, he was going to at least try to fight. He put his fists up. Maybe some of them would be dumb enough not to phase out of the way of his stupid human punches.

Then Walker himself descended from the sky.

"Daniel," he said, stiffly.

"Walker," returned Danny. A small part of him was grateful that Walker hadn't called him Phantom and spilled his secret. It was strange, but no ghost had ever seemed particularly inclined to do that, despite how easy it would have been.

"We have a court order to take you into custody," said Walker. "Someone wants to ask you a few questions."

Danny decided today's mood was 'pointless bravado and defiance.' "And why would I want to come with- whoa."

As Danny talked, Walker had taken a piece of paper with strange symbols written on it in green ink out from the inside pocket of his jacket. The symbols made his head spin... Or maybe that was just his injuries catching up with him. His left leg was trembling, and he wasn't sure how much longer it would hold out.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, and focused on Walker. "I have no idea what that says."

Walker sighed. "Just come quietly, son. Make it easier on yourself."

Danny swallowed his discomfort at being called 'son.' "You won't hurt anyone else?" he asked.

"I'm just here for you."

There really wasn't much of a choice. Whether he went quietly or got himself beaten up even more, Walker would win and carry him off. Anyone could see that. Besides, ghost prison might be a better alternative than getting dissected by his parents.

He raised his hands in front of him, wrists together. "Go ahead, then," said Danny, flatly.

Walker nodded, and the goons converged on him. The cuffs they put around his wrists glowed green, but they had weight in a way most purely ghostly things didn't. Danny doubted that he'd be able to phase his way out of them, human or ghost. Then they picked him up and the whole swarm started to fly away.

.

"Yes, this is my lair," said Clockwork. "I can, however, duplicate and be both here and at the secondary residence I acquired expressly for the purpose of ensuring continuity of Daniel's human life."

The 'liminality expert' grunted. "He's still been here, though, hasn't he?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. "He has."

"And he might be here again in the future."

"Yes. I do plan to have him here, for short periods of time."

"And later, when he sheds his human life?"

"Perhaps."

"Then I need to know, are these up to OSHA standards? Your entire lair needs to be up to OSHA standards."

"They're time viewers and tools for unraveling paradoxes. OSHA, even the OSHA of the far future, does not regulate these items," said Clockwork. "Why, in the name of time, do you even need to know? Surely, OSHA didn't even exist the last time a liminal child was adopted."

"Well," said the expert, slightly sheepish. "No. But regulations state that all residences must be safe for children by both human and ghost standards."

"Then OSHA is not what you should be using," said Clockwork. "OSHA is the set of rules for occupational health and safety."

"Ah," said the expert. "Then we can move right along to the next check mark, shall we?"

.

"Hi," said a cheerful voice.

Danny looked up from his contemplation of the examination room table and glared balefully at the ghost who had just entered the door. They didn't seem to be affected. But then, why would they be? Danny was handcuffed to the table and clearly not a threat.

"I'm the interviewer," said the featureless ghost. "Do you know why you're here?"

"No," said Danny.

"Well," said the interviewer, "I work for the eighth authorized family court of the Infinite Realms, we're actually the only one right now, but there used to be more, and a little while ago, an adoption request was filed on your behalf."

Danny blinked and made a face. "You mean, someone stole my identity in ghost court?"

"No, no," said the interviewer, waving one amorphous hand. "Not at all. I mean to say, I ghost filed a request to legally adopt you."

"Who?" asked Danny. "Not Vlad?" Vlad was the only ghost he could think of who had demonstrated any interest in adopting him.

"No, that's not the name listed here."

"Plasmius?" asked Danny, still cringing internally.

"No."

"Then who?"

"Clockwork."

"What, seriously?" Danny liked Clockwork, and he liked to think that Clockwork liked him back, that they were friends, but the older ghost always seemed somewhat aloof.

"Yes, he was very serious. Now. I have a number of questions I need to ask you." They took out a small, glowing crystal, and set it on the table. "Do you know what this is?"

"No?" said Danny.

"It's a record crystal," said the ghost. "But one of its other functions is that it can sense deception, and record when in an interview it is being used. Go ahead, say something you know is false."

"I... like toast?"

The crystal's glow dimmed slightly before returning to its previous level.

"There, see? Very useful, don't you think?"

"I guess," said Danny. He didn't know how to feel about this. Any of this. What would ghost adoption even mean? He trusted Clockwork, but this felt like too much, too fast. He hadn't even properly processed what had happened with his parents a few hours ago.

"Right. So. We'll start with an easy one, then. Is your name Daniel Janus James Fenton-Phantom, also known as Danny Phantom, or simply Danny or Phantom?"

"Yes," said Danny, eyeing the crystal warily.

"And what would you prefer to go by, for the purposes of this interview?"

"Phantom," said Danny.

"Alright then, Phantom," said the interviewer, "could you please tell me where you primarily reside?"

"Fentonworks," said Danny, "in Amity Park." So far, he hadn't really had a reason to lie. All of this was common knowledge for both his human and ghostly acquaintances.

"And what would you consider to be your haunt?"

"My what?"

"Your haunt. The territory that you have metaphysically claimed."

"I- I don't really understand."

"Is there an area that you feel compelled to defend against hostile persons? An area in which non-hostile ghosts defer to you?"

"I- Yeah. I guess. Amity Park. And some of the bits around it, too."

"The entire city?"

"I guess? I don't know," said Danny. "Is that weird?"

"It would be unusual," said the interviewer.

Danny really wished the interviewer had an expression he could read. Or even just something approximating a face.

"Now, do you feel safe in your home? In 'Fentonworks?'"

The correct answer to that question would be no, but he wasn't sure he should answer. What if this was some kind of elaborate trick?

"We can come back to that," said the interviewer. "Are there any other places where you do feel safe?"

"I mean, sure?" said Danny. He fidgeted.

"Would you please share some of those places?"

"School, I guess?" Except that he got beaten up there all the time and his parents had hunted him down there and he had to escape and... Yeah.

The crystal dimmed. Danny grimaced.

"Ah," said the interviewer. "Anywhere else?"

"My friends houses," said Danny. "And the Far Frozen." To his relief, this time, the crystal stayed bright.

"Have you ever been to Clockwork's lair?"

"Yeah," said Danny. He slouched in the chair as much as possible. He wasn't sure he should be answering these questions, but he was. Maybe he should stop.

"Do you feel safe there?"

"Not at first, but now I do."

"I see. Why not at first?"

"Clockwork and I didn't meet on great terms and we sort of got into a fight." Maybe that would get the interviewer to stop. They'd decide Clockwork couldn't adopt him and leave. Did Danny want that? He wasn't sure.

"That's more common than one might expect. But you feel safe with him now?"

"Yes."

"Alright, moving on. How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

There was a long, drawn out silence that managed to be skeptical despite the interviewer's lack of a face.

"I know I'm small," said Danny, insulted, "but I am sixteen."

"Excuse my indelicacy, but... how old were you when you died?"

Danny flushed. "Fourteen," he bit out.

"Then you're fourteen."

"It was two years ago. I'm sixteen."

"Fourteen is your natural age," said the ghost. "A ghost's natural age is the age they died at."

"Yeah, but I'm still half human. I'm still aging. So I'm sixteen."

The interviewer shook their head. "As a liminal spirit, your apparant age range is likely larger than a normal child's would be, but your natural age, your true age, is still fourteen. Based on records of liminals, the highest extent of your age range is most likely to be either twenty-one or twenty-eight. That's part of the reason we investigate official adoption request so thoroughly. The relationship may very well last for thousands of years, if not forever."

"Wait, are you saying I could live forever?" asked Danny, incredulous. This was not how he wanted to find out he was immortal. Heck, he didn't want to be immortal.

"I'll admit, my understanding of liminality isn't perfect, but I believe that is the case. Why? Is that problematic?"

.

"The results of the law enforcement investigation have come back," said the bureaucrat to whom Clockwork was currently assigned. "As well as an inquiry as to the opinion of the mortal law enforcement arm."

"And?" asked Clockwork. "Their findings?"

The bureaucrat, who had up until that point not displayed evidence that xe possessed any emotions whatsoever, made a face of extreme disgust. "When the officers found the child, the human parents were openly shooting at him. Other humans intervened for long enough for law enforcement to pick him up. Of course, they then felt the need to arrest him and carry him away in handcuffs... I have no idea why I keep at this job, really I don't."

Clockwork's core shifted in worry. His first impulse was to leap up and go comfort Daniel, but he suppressed it. If he left now, he would lose his place in line and have to start over.

"The public nature of the event means that the human police are now investigating the child's circumstances and may recommend that the child be removed from his human parents' custody. If you have a human identity and you are able to gain custody of him there, it will aid your case here."

"I am aware," said Clockwork.

"Well, then," xe said. "I believe this is all in order. Here is your ticket to see the judge. Just show it to the door. You know where it is?"

"I do," said Clockwork, rising.

He had walked by the door several times in his dealings with the various clerks and notaries. The room behind it lay directly in the heart of the family court building, all the other rooms and residents armor for this one.

The door itself was made of dark wood full of eye-shaped knots. As Clockwork approached the door, the eyes opened, watching him. He held up the ticket and the doors swung inward.

Inside was a courtroom, complete with benches, tables, a witness stand, a courtroom recorder, a judge's box, and a judge.

The judge was a one-eyed ghost in pale purple robes. She examined Clockwork.

"We had not foreseen this," she said. "Not until you filed the first motion."

"You were never able to see me clearly," said Clockwork, hoping this would not turn into a power play between himself and the Observants. "Did you receive the relevant paper work, your honor?"

"Yes," she said. "Take a seat, Lord Clockwork."

Clockwork flew to the front of the courtroom and settled himself in the applicant's chair.

The judge leaned forward. "Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Because I love Daniel, and I believe he deserves more care and protection than he is currently receiving from his biological parents."

The judge waved a clawed hand. "Yes, yes. But you didn't have to go through all of this and get to me in order to do that. You could have just taken him. That's what most people do, nowadays. Ever since the King was sealed and our systems of governance began to decay."

"I believe it is the only way Daniel will truly be safe," said Clockwork, meeting her one eye calmly.

"You want to prevent us from 'interfering.'"

"That would be nice, yes," agreed Clockwork.

"You want this to be binding," accused the judge.

"You say that like it is a bad thing," said Clockwork. "But what else could induce him to fully remove himself from that situation? You see how they treat him. Have you looked at the medical report, yet?"

"I have," said the judge, looking at her desk. "Very well. All the paperwork is in order. I am approving you for a one-month trial period. At the end of the trial period, the status of the child will be assessed. If his state is found to be acceptable, the adoption will be approved and bound. If it is not, this court will take custody of him until such a time as an appropriate guardian can be found." She scribbled something on a piece of paper and then hit it with a stamp. "The probationary bond should be active. You may go."

"Thank you, your honor."

.

After the end of the interview, which had become much more distressing than Danny wanted to admit, one of Walker's goons showed up and took him away, to another room.

This room was different than any of the other rooms he had seen in Walker's prison. For one, the walls were a soft, pastel green with purple accents, not the harsh, neon pink of elsewhere in the facility. The chairs looked soft, and were arranged almost randomly, clustered in little groups, or around tables. There were colored pencils and crayons on and occasionally floating over the tables. A large basket sat in one corner, overflowing with toys of various sizes.

Alright. Danny was confused.

He let the goon- the... officer?- guide him into one of the chairs and put a stuffed rabbit on his lap.

"I- I don't understand," said Danny. "What's going on?"

"Didn't that interviewer guy tell you?"

"He said I was being adopted," said Danny, who still hadn't wrapped his head around that particular tidbit of information. "But I thought- I was under arrest?" He raised his cuffed hands. "You arrested me?"

"Those're just so you don't run away," said the ghost. He ruffled Danny's hair. "You're not under arrest. We're just waiting for the court to decide what to do with you."

"And what if they don't do anything with me?"

"Then it's up to the boss."

"Oh," said Danny, not liking the sound of that at all.

"But, if it helps, I think that the court probably will decide to do something with you."

It didn't really help, no.

"Do you want a lollipop?"

"Sure," said Danny. It wasn't like this day could get much weirder.

The ghost handed him a lime dumdum. Yeah. That was about what he expected there, honestly.

The sensation of a thick, weighted blanket being draped over his mind hit him with such intensity that he looked around, trying to see if someone had just wrapped him up in a blanket without him noticing. Tension bled out of his muscles, and his core finally stopped the angry/depressed/frightened/pained dance it was doing in his chest.

He felt... protected. Which was wrong, because he was in Walker's prison, and Walker would use any excuse he had to keep Danny imprisoned for a thousand years. Danny was not safe here. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

And yet, that feeling remained.

He brushed his fingers over the bandages over his chest. What was wrong with him? His parents hadn't even cut all the way through, but he was so messed up. He didn't understand.

This feeling... This 'safety'... It felt like a cruel joke more than anything else, only it was one he couldn't escape from because it was coming from inside him and he was calm but he was also crying.

"Oh, heck, do you not like lime? I think I have some green apples-?"

The door to the room opened, and Danny looked up. Before he could register who had come in, he was swept up into a hug.

He blinked into silky purple cloth. "Clockwork?" he croaked.

"I'm here," said Clockwork. "It's fine. You're safe now, Daniel."

Danny pushed away. Clockwork let him. "You're adopting me?" asked Danny.

"Yes," said Clockwork. "Unless you don't want me to."

"Why?" asked Danny. "I don't understand. I didn't think you liked me that much."

"I like you very much," reassured Clockwork. "I want you to be my family."

Danny sniffed. "Okay," he said. It wasn't as if he really had anywhere else to go. "Okay. But what about," he made an awkward gesture with his cuffed hands, "Amity Park?" The idea of leaving hurt, even worse than the cut on his chest.

"You won't have to leave," said Clockwork, soothingly. "You can still have your life there."

"I'll have to go back?" asked Danny, in alarm. Back to Fentonworks, where even the walls had it out for him with how much anti-ghost weaponry they had packed into them? He couldn't. Not after what his parents had done.

(A small part of him knew that wasn't what Clockwork had said, and that he was being irrational. That part of him was ignored.)

"No, no," said Clockwork. "I have a new place, just for you. If you'll let me show you?"

Very hesitantly, Danny nodded.

"Alright, good," said Clockwork. He turned to the police ghost. "Do you have the key for these? We really must be going."

"Yeah," said the ghost, producing the item. "The boss says that he expects you to teach the kid how to respect the law."

"Appropriately," said Clockwork, neutrally, unlocking the cuffs.

Danny felt an urge to hug Clockwork. So he did. Clockwork hugged him back, and rocked him back and forth, gently.

"Are you ready to go?" asked Clockwork.

"Yeah," said Danny.

With a gesture of his staff, Clockwork opened a portal.

.

Clockwork wanted custody of Danny. He wanted full custody of Danny. Legally. In both worlds.

This posed a bit of a challenge, as he did not legally exist on one of those two worlds. Thus, Clockwork had to establish a legal presence in the human world.

On the surface of it, this did not seem too difficult. Between his temporal powers, his minor shapeshifting abilities, and overshadowing, simply creating an identity was easy. The hard part was creating an identity that Daniel would not have encountered before, in order to avoid a paradox, while making it plausible that Daniel had encountered the identity before, for the purposes of dealing with mortal law.

In one timeline, the hill to the west of town stood empty of habitation, owned by the county but rendered unusable due to a dangerous failed mine on the site. In this timeline, however, the mine had never been built, and the property was instead owned by a reclusive hermit who went by the name of Charles Worth. The property had passed through many hands in the years before Mr. Worth had purchased it in his youth, and a stately, if somewhat faded, mansion sat at the hill's crest, overlooking Amity Park.

Charles Worth went to Amity Park only rarely, and for good reason. He was an albino, with red eyes, white hair, and even whiter skin, and superstitious people often thought the worst of him. In recent days, he had even been mistaken for a ghost.

'Mistaken.'

He rubbed Daniel's shoulders, and the child startled, pulling away from him again. Daniel had missed Clockwork's, admittedly minor, transformation, and now blinked up at his newly pale face, confused.

"Do you like my disguise?" asked Clockwork.

Daniel's eyes flicked up and down Clockwork, assessing, processing. He gave a tiny nod, and reattached himself. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Hickory Hill," said Clockwork.

Danny frowned, mouthing the words. "Isn't that owned by... Charles Worth. Charles- Oh. I get it."

Clockwork gave Danny a little squeeze. "Would you like to see inside?"

"Okay," said Danny.

.

The house, Danny had to acknowledge, as they approached the front door, looked haunted. As if some pale, frail, spirit might look out one of the lace-draped windows on the upper floor at any moment. As if there was a Gothic mystery just waiting to unfold. A murder mystery, maybe, full of forbid love and jealous lovers. Or the tale of a sickly heir to a great fortune.

Or that of an ancient ghost and his adopted half-living son.

Even before they stepped inside, Danny's ghost half had decided it loved the building.

The door, as Clockwork opened it, creaked in a loving sort of way, the tone low enough to be comforting instead of annoying. The entrance hall's floorboards did not creak under the weight of the ghosts, but Danny could tell that if a human tried to cross them, they would. He hoped the rest of the floors were like that.

He padded forward, daringly leaving the protection of Clockwork's cloak, examining all the dark nooks and crannies, the odd architectural choices arising from generations of additions, smiling at cold spots. Clockwork shut the door. Even then, there was a draft, curling around his ankles, cool and refreshing.

Danny smiled. It was small and strained, but it was a smile. "It's perfect," he said.

"Don't you want to see your room before you say that?" teased Clockwork.

"Yes," said Danny.

Clockwork led Danny to a staircase with an elaborately carved banister and began to climb. Danny followed eagerly. He had never thought his core would be so happy simply to have somewhere safe to exist.

It almost was enough to let him forget what his parents had done to him. He stopped, hand on his chest.

"Daniel?" said Clockwork. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," said Danny, automatically.

Clockwork frowned, the expression both familiar and foreign on Clockwork's falsely-human face. "Why don't we take a look at that, once we get to your room, alright?"

Danny nodded, swallowing back his irrational fear.

They went up, and Clockwork opened the door to a large room, much larger than the one he had back at Fentonworks. The bed was similarly large and equipped with curtains and enough blankets and pillows to turn it into a nest at a moment's notice. The walls and ceiling were painted a deep blue, with tiny green-white dots picking out a star map. The room also contained a number of carefully curated hiding places, areas where the dressers wardrobe or desk created blind spots and deep shadows. The floor was carpeted, but still icy.

It was an excellent room for a ghost (or half-ghost) like Danny.

He was too nervous to enjoy it.

Clockwork pulled a chair to the side of the bed and sat down. It was a little strange to see Clockwork actually sitting and not floating or coiling. Actually-

"Can you have legs in ghost form?" asked Danny.

"I can," said Clockwork. "But typically I don't bother." He patted the bed. "Let's take a look at you."

Danny hesitated, holding his hands clasped in front of his chest. Clockwork's face went soft.

"I just want to make sure you are healing. I know this is difficult, but neither you nor I want things to get worse."

"I'm fine," said Danny. "I heal fast. It was just- It should be gone now. I've gotten worse."

"Is it?" asked Clockwork.

Danny could still feel it. "I don't know," said Danny.

Clockwork patted the bed again. Danny sat down and started fumbling with the hem of his shirt.

"Would you like help?" asked Clockwork.

"No," said Danny. He pulled his sweater off. Taking off his t-shirt was harder. Then there were just Sam's bandages. He bit his lip a the red and brown blotches staining them.

"Would you like to talk about it?" asked Clockwork, taking one end of the bandage and starting to unwind it.

"I don't know," said Danny. "I just- It's so stupid. I shouldn't have- They saw me walk through a door and- They don't even know I'm Phantom. They just-" Danny hiccuped. "They tried to cut me open. They pretended."

Clockwork pulled free the last layer of bandages. The long, shallow cut was still there, straight along his breast bone until the end, where it curved sharply right and tapered off. That was when Danny had jerked free of the restraints and ran.

"Why isn't it healing?" asked Danny.

"It isn't just a physical wound, Daniel. Ghosts are spiritual creatures."

"Oh," said Danny. It made a sick kind of sense. "So my core is really hurt? I thought I was just... That it was in my head."

Clockwork raised a hand to touch the bottom of the cut. "Your parents are important to you, and to your Obsession, your existence as a ghost. Of course their rejection would affect you." The cut began to knit itself together underneath Clockwork's fingers. Danny's core thrummed strangely at the touch. "I can heal your physical injuries."

"But not the mental ones, huh?" said Danny.

"You need time for that," said Clockwork, reaching the top of the cut.

"Good thing I have you, then."

"It is," said Clockwork. He leaned forward and kissed Danny on top of his head.

Danny ran his fingers up and down the newly healed cut. "So my powers aren't going to work until, what, I get over this?"

"That is one possibility," said Clockwork. "But everyone heals differently."

"Can't you tell?" asked Danny, reaching for his shirt.

"The more involved I am in an event, the more difficult it becomes for me to see its future," said Clockwork. "The timeline branches and splinters as I look at it. Also, it may surprise you, but you are fairly difficult to predict on your own."

"Oh," said Danny. He pulled his shirt on, ignoring how it caught on the dried blood on his skin. "So, what now? Should I just, I don't know, hide out here? I mean," he shifted, uncomfortably, "It's fine if I can't let anyone know I'm here, I get that, but I'd like to, um..."

"Live your life?"

Danny flinched. "As much as I can, yeah." He licked his lips. "Sam and Tucker didn't get in trouble, did they? They're fine?" He'd been so wrapped up in how miserable he was, he'd barely spared his friends a second thought, and now that guilt from that rained down on his head.

"They're fine. Due to the circumstances, they haven't gotten in any trouble at all, so stop that."

"What?"

"Feeling guilty. I know for a fact that the safety of others was your first consideration." Clockwork patted his shoulder. "As for your continued presence here on the mortal plane," Clockwork smiled, "would it surprise you to learn that I am in fact registered as a foster parent? I have even had a few children here, although not many stay for long."

"Really?" said Danny. "But... Wait, um. What about- What about Mom and Dad?"

"They were seen shooting at you in public after insisting that you were a ghost. They've been arrested."

Danny swallowed. "Are they going to be alright?"

Clockwork sighed and shifted so that he was sitting on the bed next to Danny. He put an arm around Danny's shoulders. "They'll be fine," he said. "But we should come up with a story about how you wound up here, hm? For the social workers."

.

During Daniel's periodic visits to Clockwork's lair, Clockwork had noted how tactile he was, how much he enjoyed hugs and other physical expressions of affection. After Daniel got past his initial hesitation concerning his new situation, that particular personality trait multiplied.

Clockwork suspected the Fentons were ultimately to blame. Their hostility towards Daniel's ghostly identity and their tendency to carry objects that could hurt Daniel precluded him from seeking comfort from them, and his friends and sister, while very remarkable, were children themselves. Their relationship with Daniel was different.

This meant that Daniel could and would spend long periods of time laying against Clockwork. Usually, he would be doing homework during those moments or talking to Clockwork about various ghostly things that he had never had a chance to learn about before.

Today, however, he was just sitting there, quietly, almost dozing.

"I'm not keeping you from doing things?" asked Daniel, abruptly. "Am I?"

"No," said Clockwork.

"You don't have to do time stuff?"

"I can make duplicates and also time travel. I can be wherever I need to be. But if you want space-"

"No," said Daniel. "This is good." He snuggled closer and startled as a ring of light flashed around his waist. He was, for the first time since before his parents had attacked him, a ghost. Clockwork, in turn, shed his human guise.

Daniel was blinking down at his gloved hands.

"What?" he asked.

"I think you finally relaxed," said Clockwork, ruffling Daniel's hair. The smaller ghost leaned into the touch, purring. "Your transformations might be a bit unpredictable for the next few days."

"Good thing it's a weekend, then, huh?"

.

Danny jittered nervously as he and Clockwork passed through the large, eye-covered doors. This time last week, strange ghosts had been in and out of Clockwork's house, asking questions, poking things, and staring. Clockwork said they were checking to see if everything was in order, if the adoption could become official.

Danny didn't really see why it being official mattered. The Ghost Zone didn't really have a government to speak of. Families that Danny had seen just sort of decided that they were families, and that was that. It seemed important to Clockwork, though, and Clockwork claimed that there were certain benefits, like strengthening connections... Danny didn't get it. Wouldn't their connections be strengthened anyway?

Clockwork guided Danny with small nudges, directing him to a seat in front of the judge, who stared down at them with her one enormous eye.

"I have decided to approve the adoption request regarding Daniel Janus James Fenton-Phantom," she said.

Danny felt Clockwork relax incrementally beside him. He smiled. The judge's pronouncement felt a little anticlimactic to him, but, well, whatever.

But the judge wasn't done speaking. "The child's familial bond with his biological parents will be severed. The familial bond will be established with his current guardian, known as Clockwork. On all levels legal, physical, metaphysical, metaphorical, emotional, mental, and spiritual, Clockwork will be the sole parent of Daniel Janus James Fenton-Phantom. Due to the child's status as a liminal spirit, the memories and associations stored in his human brain will not be altered, and he may still experience feelings, especially those of nostalgia, towards his former parents, however, this is expected to fade with time. Questions?"

Danny had rather a lot, actually. Clockwork hadn't quite explained it like this. "Wait, are you saying I'll forget my parents?"

"No," said the judge, in a rather condescending tone.

"You won't forget them," said Clockwork. "But your core won't recognize them as your parents anymore. It's so you'll be able to defend yourself." His tone was almost pleading. "Your relationship with your sister will, of course, be unaffected."

"Okay," said Danny. They clearly didn't see him as their son anymore, so... It wouldn't really change anything. He didn't like the idea of ghosts he didn't know messing around with his core, but he trusted Clockwork. Even if he was apparently really bad at explaining ghost adoption. "What about the other stuff? The physical, metaphysical part?"

"The severed bonds in your core are replaced with ones to your new parent. Similarly, new bonds will be established in your parent's core," explained the judge. "Are you satisfied?"

Clockwork gave Danny an encouraging smile.

"I- Yes. I'm satisfied," said Danny.

"Very well." The judge waved forward a seven armed bailiff who had been waiting in the corner of the room.

The bailiff carried two tall glasses and a large, covered pitcher. He set one glass each in front of Clockwork and Danny and poured a thick, white, faintly glowing liquid into each of them.

"What is it?" asked Danny.

"It is a potion designed to stop our cores from fighting the changes that are about to happen," said Clockwork.

Danny looked at the potion dubiously. "Like an anesthetic?"

"Like an anesthetic," agreed Clockwork. He had already picked up his cup. "Together?"

"Okay," said Danny, still doubtful.

He picked up the cup and brought it to his lips, watching Clockwork carefully over the rim. Clockwork tipped his cup back, and so did Danny.

The potion reminded him a lot of eggnog, except that it was thicker, heavier, sweeter, like it had been mixed with honey. Almost at once, that heaviness settled into Danny's bones, weighing him down, a sensation just to the left of sleep settled over him. He lowered the cup from his face, his grip on it going gentle. The bailiff caught it as it tipped over.

Clockwork reached over and gently, slowly, pulled him close. Then he went as limp as Danny.

Inside, Danny's core became open. Not open, as in vulnerable, but as in receptive. Listening. He felt soft. Malleable. Like someone could press their thumb into him, and it would leave an impression when he hardened again. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation.

The judge sighed with something like disapproval. "So mote it be." She raised a stamp up off her desk, brought it down, and things changed.

Or, at least, Danny did.

.

Clockwork, being the elder ghost, recovered faster from the potion than Daniel. There was no reason to stay at the court, so, after bidding a goodbye to the judge, he picked Daniel up and left, flying a polite distance before opening a portal back to their home outside Amity Park.

He settled Daniel down in his bed, phasing him beneath his covers and tucking him in. Daniel would need to sleep off the potion, as well as take time to adjust to the changes to his psyche, however minor they might be.

"I love you so much," said Clockwork, brushing Daniel's hair out of his face. Getting here had taken subjective years of work and planning but it was worth it, because now Daniel was his child, in every way that mattered.

Forever.

.

.

.

Yes, that ending line was a little bit ominous, but they're ghosts. They wouldn't be happy if it wasn't ominous!

[mesmusae]

Severus: Lily

I know what Fandom says and thinks for the most part. And I know what Rowling has said. Both of which I reject. I don’t like this narrative that Severus was stalkery obsessed with Lily. I am disgusted at the “it’s a good thing harry wasn’t a girl who looked just like his mother” discussions. So let’s break down how I view their friendship.

Let’s start with them meeting. A lot of people take him watching Lily and Petunia at the park as creepy but here’s a few reasons why it’s not. 1) People watching. Literally everyone does this some. If you’re in a public place, you’re going to watch the other people there, see what they’re doing. 2) Shyness. Severus is clearly not a social person. He’s very introverted. Plus, we know he and his family are quite the social pariahs in the neighborhood. They’re looked down upon for being poor, and it seems that perhaps their family life isn’t so private either. He’s not just going to feel comfortable or safe approaching two girls who are from a much better off family. 3) Lily was doing magic in a public setting, in broad daylight. On purpose. For Severus, that’s quite impressive. And likely what caught his attention as well as being how he built up the courage to talk to her. He was like her, and it was clear he had answers that her family didn’t.

And that is how their friendship is born. It is born of this mutual thing they have in common. And Severus is getting to tell Lily everything he knows. She listens, she talks with him, asks him questions, everything. This is likely everything he doesn’t get at home. Lily has become a refuge. Which is perhaps unhealthy, but at this stage, she’s his friend. 

Their first obstacle comes at the sorting. It’s clear that Severus wants Slytherin. He is starting to believe the toxic pureblood rhetoric at a young age. But then again, two thirds of his interactions with muggles are extremely negative. You have his father, who resents Severus and Eileen for what they are. He punishes them for it. And then there’s Petunia. Who is envious of Lily (and likely Snape on the magic front if nothing else) and lashes out because of it. There’s also the muggles around him, in which he gets only pity and a blind eye from as well as sneers and jdugement. And he knows he’s more powerful than them. But he can’t do a damn thing with that. So unlike most prejudice against muggles wizards, his prejudice lies in his real life experiences as opposed to people like Draco who are just raised to believe that muggles are scum and wizards are the elite but have likely never even interacted with a muggle. 

He also wants Lily to come with him. Because he thinks she’s different. (Not a healthy mindset at all. But to him, she is the exception to the rule). Slytherin would not be a safe place for Lily (nor the safe place that he is expecting it to be for him). Though, I think if she’d been in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff it would have gone over better to him than Gryffindor. 

The rift here begins, I think for a couple of reasons. 1) James and his group are now trying to interact with lily. With James of course later in the years growing romantically interested as well. And while we know that Lily is rejecting James’ friendship and romantic advances throughout school, Severus has a lot of mental health issues. Thus, I think his issues stem more from jealousy and fear. Fear that Lily will one day decide that he isn’t worth her time. Maybe she’ll think that James and his gang are in fact better. And that would leave him alone again because 2) Slytherin is not the Sanctuary he thought it would be. Slytherin was supposed to be his home away from “home”. He’d be amongst his kind. Except that Slytherin is a pureblood and very rich house. Most of the purebloods come from Old Money. Classism is a massive part of that. So not only is Severus not a pureblood, but his family is poor. He wears hand-me-downs that are often described as feminine blouses, meaning they’re probably coming from his mother. Add to that, his only friend is a muggle-born. Which he is obviously judged and mocked for. But he’s loyal to Lily. To a fault, honestly. 

So he’s not only severely separated from his only friend from the start, but bullied by both the marauders AND his own housemates in Slytherin. And unfortunately, Lily is the cause to some degree on both sides. (that is not to say it is her fault. IT IS NOT HER FAULT. James’s decisions were his own, as well as the actions of those in Slytherin around Severus. And Severus’s actions in response are his own). 

Now at some point, his feelings turned romantic. And unfortunately, Severus did not have many sources to look at for what it really means to love someone. Because his parents certainly aren’t the answer. And everything else would be at a distant. Also, again because he has so little and because of those fears of losing her, he is slightly possessive about that. He sees James as a threat.

And he’s having to find some way to fit in when it comes to Slytherin. And he finds that with potions. A particularly difficult class, but he didn’t struggle. And he was quite adept at defensive magic as well as dark magic, thus starting to give him value to his peers. And he of course starts to fall into the classic “bullies are often people bullied themselves.” He starts to partake in bullying the muggleborns, using the word, mudblood, etc. just to fit in amongst his own peers. And Severus is not stupid. He’s also not blind (well, in some ways he is). He is bound to see that pureblood rhetoric against muggleborns is bullshit. His issues lies with muggles themselves more so. And still a lot of wizards. At this point in his life, he’s become bitter, quick to anger and defense. Anyone who does him the slightest wrong is against him. He’s learned not to really forgive. 

So let’s talk about the event. Snape’s worst memory. Where James is tormenting Severus, yet again. When Lily comes to his defense, and James tried to blackmail Lily into a date by using tormenting Severus, in a moment of weakness he lashed out at her. He used the term mudblood in regards to her. (And was then publically humiliated and shamed for it by James and the group). 

Yes. He waited in the hallway all night for her outside the Dormitory. To apologize. Regardless of anything, he did not want to hurt her. So he apologized. And when she rejected him (Which i think had less to do with him using the word against her and rather the fact that there had been a rift growing for years and this was just he last straw). But he accepted that. I think he knew their friendship was over and had been for quite some time. He left her alone, and thus was completely intergrated into Slytherin and those who were molding him and shaping him.

Now. Just because they stopped being friends, doesn’t mean the caring stopped. They had their childhood memories they formed together. Severus was always going to have those feelings for Lily. It does not make it obsession. And I think of it like this.

I have a friend, who was more the Snape to my Lily. She was kind of an awful person, awful friend, and there came a point we cut each other out. (I’m not saying i’m entirely innocent in the destruction of that friendship. But I do view her actions as far more Severus’s toxic side than my own. But that’s besides the point). I did not stop caring about her altogether. Especially not immediately. Especially not right out of school. I still think of our friendship often. I think that if she came to me needing something, I would likely help her, even if I have a feeling she wouldn’t do the same for me. 

So that is what I view Severus’s feelings towards Lily. Except stronger. Because Lily was the only light in his life. She was the only good thing. The only positive influence he really had. Adults were never on his side. His peers were rarely on his side. So losing Lily, he clung to what little he had. The death eaters who took him in under their wings over the years. Those who were promising him power and control, something he rarely had in his life. 

But that care is what got him. He heard that part of the prophecy, and of course he kept track of his friend. Wizarding circles are small anyway. It probably spread without intent. He was scared for her. So he did his job, reporting the prophecy. But begged for her life. In his fear he didn’t think about James. The man that ruined his life and tormented him every chance he got. And he didn’t think about her child, not born yet. Because his reactions were emotional in knowing that Lily’s life was in danger. 

So he went to Dumbledore to have her protected. And yes. Then her family was brought to his attention. And he did not hesitate to agree to keep them safe too. Listen. If Snape really wanted Lily for himself. If he really didn’t care about her at all, it would have been a fight to protect, at the very least, James. He would have argued against it. He instantly agreed because someone reached to the logic in him. And he agreed to risk his life to be Dumbledore’s spy. He signed on to do that for the rest of his life. He signed on to do whatever it took to protect Lily and her Family. So when it was just Harry left, he did everything he could. (that doesn’t mean he went about it right. But he did do his best to protect Harry). Until his very last breath. If it was just about Lily, he would have stopped the moment she died. 

None of this was about sleeping with her. None of this was about winning her over or having her. He accepted that he fucked those things up. He accepted he had no place in her life. This was about making up for his mistakes. Or at least, trying to feel like he could. I don’t think even if he lived to see Harry win and everything, that he would think he had. But he certainly seemed to be trying to show he knew he was wrong, and trying to do the right thing. Total change was never possible for Severus. But the fact that he was even able to admit he was wrong in joining Voldemort and turn to the right side, is a massive step for him.

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Three

The train was leaving at eleven. 

That gave Ron breakfast to do what he needed to do. More than enough time if you ask him. He wasn’t exactly planning on reminiscing with Lavender. 

“Good morning Harry.” Ron said a little too chipper, making the green eyed boy groan. He’d been up for sometime packing his trunk. 

“Beautiful day to chuck Lavender Brown, isn’t it?” He said, despite his demeanor his voice was a bit shaky. 

“Today’s as good as ever.” Harry added, slightly amused at the new air around Ron. 

With a fierce determination he headed down to the great hall and for once was anticipating something unrelated to food when he entered. 

He was ready to do this. 

Until he was attacked the moment he opened the doors. 

“Won-Won!” Lavender explained, rushing over and draping her arms around his shoulders, “I was so worried. Why didn’t you walk me to breakfast?” She questioned, pulling away with a pout. 

He shucked her off as gently as he could, “look Lavender, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Surprisingly, she doesn’t look upset, instead excited, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you too! Should we step outside?” She suggested, but before he could agree she was tugging on his sleeve. 

Once they took residence on a bench in the hallway, they turned to each other and spoke at the same time. 

“You go first.” He told her with a nod. 

Eagerly she starts, “I know what you’re going to say, you’ve been trying to tell me for weeks, haven’t you?” She questions. 

Again, he nods. 

“Well,” she pauses, eyes almost shyly meeting his before she breaks out into a smile. 

Do all girls smile while being broken up with?

“I love you too!”

He didn’t even have time to retort or process how delusional the blonde truly was, because just his luck, Hermione walked by at this very moment.

And the look of pain that came over her features didn’t even measure up to that night in the Astronomy Tower. In fact, comparing the two expressions made it seem like the night of the match was her wedding day. 

And probably not his brightest idea, but without a thought, Ron calls for her, “Hermione!” 

In his wake is a confused Lavender as a mass of brown hair disappears around a corner and toward the Great Hall. 

Thank Merlin for his long legs because he’s able to catch up to her in no time. Grasping her wrist lightly and halting her to a stop. 

She snatches his hand from hers like she’s been burned. He drops them awkwardly, the ginger didn’t think of what he was actually going to say. 

“I have to eat.” She announces rather loudly, and too stiffly for Ron’s liking. When had things become this way? 

“Look, I just wanted to tell you,” that I’m really sorry about your grandma. I know we haven’t really talked but I’m always here for you. Also about what you just saw, I don’t love Lavender. I was trying to chuck her, please believe me. I wanna spend holiday with you!

And just like so many conversations he had with Lavender, the words never left his lips. Instead, someone he loathed almost as much as his current girlfriend appeared. 

“Ah! Lovers tiff!” Malfoy exclaimed, the most lively he’s seemed in weeks. Not that anyone missed this from him. 

Instinctively he moved closer to Hermione as she spared him a glance. 

“You know, when I heard you were sucking face with Lavender Brown I will not lie I was a bit shocked!” He exclaimed dramatically, “I just wouldn’t think you’d go for a pure-blood, thought you fancied mudblood scum!” He cackled. 

His brow twitched as he stepped closer to Malfoy, not caring if Snape saw him pound Draco into the floor. 

“But then again, who would touch that thing.” The blonde whispered loud enough for Hermione to hear. 

Angrily, Ron pulled his fist back, and shockingly, Malfoy looked as if he was going to welcome the punch. 

(Unbeknownst to anyone, he knew he’d get this kind of reaction from Weasley and he was so determined to feel something rather than the dread consuming him as of late.) 

But before his fist could connect with the Slytherin’s nose, the slamming of a door was heard as Hermione hurried into the grand hall. 

With a pained look he flicked his glance between Draco and where Hermione just stood. 

Reluctantly releasing his robes, he made his choice to finally do the right thing and go after her. 

He spotted her next to Ginny, the seat he hadn’t occupied in months, absently forking around some eggs while her nose was stuck in some old looking book. She wasn’t crying, but the distant look in her eyes was evident. Hermione hadn’t even acknowledged him as he walked over. 

(And normally something, Malfoy, of all people, says wouldn’t bother, but the past twenty four hours haven’t exactly been a picnic.) 

As he lurched closer he and Ginny locked eyes. His sister just shook her head, telling him not now, her expression wasn’t sour, but more sad than anything. 

Promising himself he’d truly sort this out on the train ride home, he ventured again to set Lavender straight. 

...

He was a coward. The ruddiest bloodiest one of them all. 

After his run-ins with Lavender, Malfoy, and Hermione, he sought out to find the first girl. However, his attempts were failed as she had holed up in the girls dormitory to finish packing her things. 

And just his luck, when the blonde finally emerged, she was joined at the hip with Parvati. He wasn’t cruel enough to break up with her in front of her best friend. 

On top of it all, Lavender seemed completely unfazed by the events that occurred this morning. You’d honestly think that after saying those three words to someone, it’s a red flag if they run off to see another girl moments after. 

But no, instead, he was boarding the train sans Lavender, sans Ginny, Harry, or Hermione as well. Alone. 

Reaching the narrow corridor and lines of compartments, he knew he had a few choices to make. Breaking up with Lavender was at the top of list. He would hopefully have the next month to let Hermione know how sorry he is about her grandmother and to amend their fractured relationship. 

First, he had to put his trunk down. 

Sauntering down to the compartment that he, Harry, and Hermione always occupied, Ron hadn’t considered the fact that the bushy haired witch might be in there, warranting for an awkward confrontation. He really wanted to get it all sorted with Lavender as a way to show Hermione he’s serious about all this, about her. 

Someone else. 

The phrase Ginny had reiterated on behalf of Hermione had been ringing his head for the past twenty four hours. There was still hope, even if just a little. 

Shoving the sliding door aside he didn’t see Harry in sight, who he did see, was Hermione. 

At first she didn’t notice as she absently took notes on that same book he’s seen attached to her hands for weeks. He’s itching to ask her about, just to get her to talk about something, anything. 

“Hello.” He was surprised she spoke first. She sounded awkward and stiff, a little shaky, but it was something. Small victories. 

“Hi, uh, I’m just putting this away.” He commented in return as he shoved the thing over head. 

Ron wanted to wait until he had chucked Lavender, but his morals were screaming to say something. 

“I’m really sorry about your grandma Hermione. I know you two were close.” He told her genuinely sorry. 

For a moment her face softens from the stoic expression, but he blinks, she snaps her book shut, and the look, it’s gone.

“Yes we were close, but I suppose people grow apart,” and just like that they weren’t talking about her ill grandmother, “sometimes something more interesting, better, comes along and you can’t find time anymore.” She’s spitting venom. Any sadness replaced by pure rage. 

“Hermione,” he didn’t wanna row with her, though he surely deserved whatever she had to throw at him. 

“It makes you think maybe you never meant that much to them. That you’ll always be the fallback plan. Second best.” Though still sounding furious, her voice rocks over the last sentence. 

As soon as the words left her lips, she looked horrified. 

“I’m sorry.” She says quickly, stuffing her hands onto her lap and clasping them. A nervous habit he knows she has. 

What in the bloody hell is she sorry for? 

“Look Ron,” it’s the first time she’d spoken to him in weeks, it evokes a chill, “I don’t want to argue with you.” 

“I don’t either.” He agrees quickly. 

She ignores that, “I think we both should just put this all behind us and do what’s best.”

Suddenly excited, he nods his head. If Hermione was saying all this now then maybe she’d jump into his arms when rumors of the breakup hit her! 

“Good, I’m glad you agree,” her eyes are watering, her lips are a thin line, “I’ll stay out of your way at the Burrow, won’t bother you. Wouldn’t want to ruin your holiday, after all it is your house, I’m intruding.” 

That is certainly not what he agreed to! 

For the brightest witch of her age she could be so daft, Hermione would never be a burden to him or his family. 

The ginger quickly shakes his head, “what? Hermione, no, I,” 

And luck, as usual, isn’t on his side because Harry decides to enter at this very moment. 

“Hello.” He announces, far too chipper for both Ron and Hermione’s taste. 

At this she stands, needing to get away from what just transpired. 

“Hey, where are you off to?” Harry questions, eyes flicking momentarily to Ron worried they might’ve rowed.

Now he wishes they did. Passionate fiery Hermione was easier to watch then this version of her. Quiet and sad. 

“Loo.” She mumbled, scrambling for the text. 

The second the door shut Ron groaned, beside himself. 

“How’d it go?” The chosen one asked as he plopped across from Weasley. 

Ron scoffed, “how do you think it went?”

Harry nodded awkwardly, “right...”

“Didn't even think things could get worse, she was going on about how she’ll stay out my way, some bollocks about how she’s intruding.” 

There’s a pause, “have you chucked Lavender?”

The ginger just grunts. 

And like it’s the world's biggest secret Harry speaks quickly, “you’ve got to sort that out. You and Lavender make Cho and I look as in love as your parents!” He exclaims recalling his disaster relationship in fifth year. 

Ron let’s put a butter laugh, “I’m daft Harry, but not that daft, I know that!” His anger sizzles, he drops his tone, “why haven’t you said anything until now?” 

Harry sighs, he doesn’t even know what to say. A stiff silence falls upon them before he can manage anything, “I didn’t want anyone to think I had been picking sides or anything. It’s not like Hermione said much about you or you were saying much about her. There wasn’t much to tell the other.” He drops his head, “I reckon some of this is my fault.” 

Ron’s taken aback, “what?” if anyone’s at fault it’s him. 

“You’ve been walking around for months miserable. Hermione, she barely has anything to say these days unless it’s about You-Know-Who.” He doesn’t say the name for Ron’s sake, “you two clearly haven’t been great communicators with each other but I could’ve done more. We could’ve talked about it sooner, I could’ve helped to cheer Hermione up.” 

The ginger doesn’t have time to assure Harry, not yet anyway, “is she... is she sad?” He feels stupid asking. 

“She’s Hermione you know, she does her best to not let it show, but I can tell it’s gotten harder for her. I haven’t seen her cry since the night it happened then yesterday with her Gran. You know she never likes to show anything ever bothers her, but she let it slip sometimes. Everyone’s noticed.” Harry states awkwardly. 

Ron feels like his throat is closing. He never wanted to cause this type of pain. Between her clear distance from everyone, Harry being torn, Lavender following his every move, his own sister disappointed in him, along with most of Gryffindor,  and a war bubbling, well he feels awful. No one needed this on top of everything else. 

“Don’t blame yourself, alright Harry, that’s the last thing I need.” He says with what he hopes is a convincing tone. 

The chosen one leans forward and pats his friends knee, “you too Ron. You’re in this situation because you don’t want anyone to get hurt.” He points out. Ron’s reluctance to chuck Lavender was because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, no matter how irritating she may be. However, in the process he had been hurting Hermione. 

“Look how that worked out? Our best friend doesn’t think I give two farts about her.” He says bitterly. 

“Ron,” 

“She sleeps on the common room couch every night because my girlfriend taunts her! Cormac McLaggen thinks it’s alright to force himself onto her and she probably thinks I think it’s alright too considering I did nothing!” He booms. 

No one speaks for a moment, it’s a little tense. 

“Okay, so you didn’t know, but you do now! You know and you care. You care so much so that you’re planning to break up with your girlfriend, sort this all out over holiday, and probably punch McLaggen along the way. So you do care, you just were late to the party. Better late than never, alright?” The dark haired boy rambles. 

Ron digs the heels of his palms into his now watering blue eyes, “I think I might love her, but I’m not sure.” He admits hoarsely. 

“Why not?” Harry whispers a little taken aback at the admission, but not surprised. 

The ginger peels out from behind his hands, “how can you love someone so much and hurt them so bad?” 

In response, Harry does nothing but leans forward and places a box of Bertie Blotts Bean’s he bought on the way in. 

A small smile manages its way on Ron’s face. Harry has never been great with words, neither has the red head. It’s usually Hermione's thing. This gesture shows everything they don’t need to say. 

That Harry’s here for Ron no matter what and he’ll do whatever he can to help him fix is. 

“Cheers.” Ron mutters opening the cardboard. 

“Hey, maybe if you eat a vomit Lavender won’t try and snog you whenever you speak.” The green eyed boy jokes lightly. 

His friend manages a small chuckle at this before turning serious, “I should probably go handle that right?” 

Cringing, Harry nods as Ron stands and wipes his jeans. 

“Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, you’ll need it.” The chosen one says as Ron groans and the compartment door slides shut. 

Sauntering like a man being sent to death, Ron eyes each of the compartments looking for a head of blonde hair probably adorned with a vibrant colored headband. 

After about five minutes, he finds Lavender chatting animatedly with Parvati as the pair look over a Witch Weekly. Before he can announce his presence, it seems as if the girl has noticed, jumping up and squealing. 

“Won-Won!” He hears her yell through the door as she throws it open, throwing her arms around her as she does. 

“Vati isn’t it so sweet he’s come to see me!” She brags turning to her friend who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. 

“Sure Lav.” Parvati says dryly as she stands up and gathers her things. 

It seems as if the twin can sense she should be anywhere else but Ron wants to make it clear, “could I talk to you alone Lavender?” His voice comes out firmer than he thought. 

“It’s all yours.” Lavender’s best friend says as she motions to the seats and stalks down the trains corridors. 

“Oh she’s so sweet!” The blonde gushes, “come in.” She instructs as she begins to drag his hand behind her. 

Lavender takes the liberty to fall onto one of the cushions folding her legs in what seems to be an attempt at a seductive matter. 

Ron just slides the door close and sits across from her. As far as he can manage. 

“Why don’t you come over here?” She pouts. 

He shakes his head, “I need to talk to you. I think it’s best I do from here.” Part of him is absolutely babbled. She's not upset about this morning. 

“Well alright silly!” The girl giggles. 

Ron clears his throat, “Alright Lavender look,” 

“Is this about this morning?” She soon cuts in, “I can understand it might’ve made you nervous but that’s okay, I’ll wait.” Lavender smiles, it seems genuine. 

Oh wow she was delusional. 

“No, Lavender I just needed to,” 

“I already told you Won-Won I can’t come to your house for holiday. Next time I promise.” She begins to lean forward as he presses himself back into the seat. 

“That’s not it,” he sees her open her mouth to say something else before he stops her, “please Lavender, please don’t interrupt me.” He says a little forcefully, not not enough to come off as rude. Though at this point, the situation may warrant it. 

“I’m all yours.” She says batting her eyelashes and tucking her hair behind her ears for emphasis. 

“This isn’t working. I really can’t see you anymore.” Finally he gets the words out. 

“Oh,” she breathed a little shocked before the expression left her face, “no.” 

“No?” He says scrunching his brow. 

Lavender nods vigorously, “No.” she repeats. 

“Lavender you can’t say no, I’m breaking up with you.” 

She shakes her head slowly, “no you’re not.” 

“Yes I am!” His voice grows louder, it’s becoming very hard to remain calm. 

“No you’re not,” her voice is turning shrill, desperate, “this is about her isn’t it? That cow, that freak,”

“Don’t you dare!” Now he’s mad. 

“Well it’s true! She’s useless in just about all aspects. When will you ever need to recite Hogwarts History, or whatever it’s called.” She says airily. 

Doing his best not to correct her he goes on, “were you ever gonna tell me she doesn’t stay in your dorm anymore because you make fun of her?” He’s doing his best to level his voice. 

“Oh, so this is about her?” Lavender jabs. 

For a moment he doesn’t know what to say, “yes, yes it is!” He’s yelling now, “I can’t be with someone who’d say such horrible things and about my friend no less.” 

The blonde scoffs, “it’s not like she doesn’t deserve it! Practically throwing herself at you like, like a little,” 

“Don’t you dare finish that.” He bites out above a whisper, “I haven’t even spoken to her since I started seeing you. She hasn’t even looked my way.” He points out, not liking the insinuation. 

She rolls her eyes, “so you have been watching have you?” 

“That’s besides the point! I’m through having this conversation, me and you, we’re done.” 

Lavender is wearing a hurt expression. Ron really can’t find himself to care after what just transpired. He thinks she’s going to concede, call it quits, but nothings ever that easy. 

“No, we’re not. Merry Christmas sweetheart.” Her sickly baby voice is back as she leans forward and kisses his cheek before disappearing from the cabin. 

Too shocked to even go after her, he sits there and tugs at his hair fiercely. 

How were things so fucked up?

[1000scrubs]

Round 2: Titus Mede II

Writer Titus Mede II ‘s entry for August 2021

ANTONIO ALBUS AURELIUS XVII sat in a chair bearing his name. He was waiting in a dark, seemingly infinite room, remembering neither why he was there nor how he got there. He concentrated hard, trying to think back to remember anything that could help him figure out what the Hell was going on. He could vaguely remember… robes? A stick? No, think harder… a beard? Nothing useful came to Antonio’s poor, empty head. Indeed, it was as empty as this void he was sitting in. But then—

“Bad morning to you,” said the dark-clad man, who had just entered the room from a doorway that had not existed a second earlier. The man was rather large, and after closing the door and turning around, Antonio got a proper look at him. He had a large mustache and an extremely fancy three-piece suit, though the fabric seemed impossibly dark. He had a large hat atop his head, and underneath the brim were his unsettling silver eyes. The look of him gave Antonio a feeling of visceral fear, though he could not tell why.

“Oi, you this pompous Aurelius sounding fella?” asked the man, who spoke in a thick Cockney accent.

“Yes, I am Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII. Where am I?” asked Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII.

“Well, ‘Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII’ — mind if I call you Tony? Nah, of course you don’t — you have been lucky enough to arrive here, in Hell, where you shall spend the rest of eternity being tortured in my district of New Los Angeles! Oh, but I suppose you won’t understand that reference.”

“What in G— in G— what? What in Go—“

“Oh, you can’t say that name here. Don’t even try. It’s a bit petty, if you ask me, but it’s not up to me! Anyway, my name is Tommy. I’m here to answer any questions you have before you are sent into New Los Angeles.”

Though Tommy’s blasé nature made him feel somewhat less uncomfortable, Antonio was rather confused. He had no idea what this “New Los Angeles” is, or how he had ended up in Hell. “Well,” he started, “for starters, I can’t remember a thing about my life on Earth. What exactly did I end up doing to get down here?”

Tommy chuckled. “Oh, where do I start? First of all, practicing the Arcane Arts is an instant no-no to the Big Man Upstairs. Massacring an entire village probably didn’t help either. But what threw you over the edge was definitely the time you—“

“No, no, this has to be some sort of mistake. I didn’t do any of this stuff, I’m a good man! There has to be some sort of trial, or appeal, or something! This isn’t fair!”

“Fair? Tony, you’re in Hell, there is no more ‘fair’. Except Jimmy’s ‘Fun Fair of Fantastical Flying Feet’, were you are mercilessly pelted by— you know, I should stop getting so sidetracked, I’ve got 12,000 other people to orient after you before my shift is over. No, Tony, there’s no appeal, there’s no trial, and I think I’ve answered all of your questions. So peace out, and make sure you follow my TikTok when you get to the Social Media Torture Tower!”

Antonio started to object. “Wait, you haven’t answered my—“ but before he could finish, Tommy was gone, instantly returning through the doorway that had been there a second ago. He was now immensely confused, perhaps even more so than before. However, before Antonio had any time to think about what just happened, or why the demon was so well dressed, he was suddenly sucked through space to another location in the most painful way imaginable.

“Ianuae Magicae!” he shouted instinctively. The pain and the sensation of movement stopped; he had broken through whatever ethereal force had been moving him, and was in what appeared to be an infinitely large library. Antonio scoffed. “Another damned infinitely large room? And full of books? What, is this some kind of nerd kingdom? I’ve just gotta find a way out of here.”

“The exit’s over there,” someone said behind him. Antonio turned around quickly, and was greeted by the sight of a normal librarian, albeit looking extremely tired.

Antonio narrowed his eyes, not knowing what to expect. “Excuse me?”

“You want to leave the library, right? So instead of wandering around and making a racket, there’s the exit. Now get out and let me get back to re-reading the end of the Eragon trilogy, it’s the least terrible thing in this library.”

Antonio didn’t want to be in the vicinity of anyone who would even think of reading something like that recreationally, so he took her advice and left through the doorway she pointed out. He then found himself in an infinite-looking corridor, which looked like something right out of a 1980s office building. Antonio started walking aimlessly, but what seemed like hours later, he was still going down the same corridor with no end in sight. Fed up with his predicament, he opened the nearest door and went in. It turned out to be an elevator, so he clicked on the top level and waited.

When Antonio’s eyes finally opened, he could not quite understand what he was looking at. It seemed he had fallen asleep during the impossibly long elevator trip, but having arrived at the top, he was now seeing a gigantic, gothic-styled room that was entirely colored in black with red accents. The wall to his right was one giant, uninterrupted window, with a red hue shining from the outside. In front of the middle of the window was an ominous looking throne and a desk, with a villainous chandelier hanging above. Running out of adjectives to describe this room, Antonio noted the oppressive and boiling hot atmosphere inside the room before stepping inside. He sat down at the throne and started going through the desk, finding many files that seemed to detail the various operations of Hell. Antonio finally realized… he was sitting in the Devil’s chair.

“That’s kinda neat-o,” he thought to himself. As anyone would, he immediately went to look for his file. “Hmm, ‘Antony A. Augustine’, ‘Anthony A. Andreas’… ah, here we go, ‘Antonio A. Aurelius'! Oh, of course there are 17 of them… there it is: ‘Antonio A. Aurelius XVII’”

Antonio opened his file and was shocked to see the photograph inside. He saw a picture of a rather horrific looking man, with a gaunt and sickly looking face, terrible hair, and unsettling eyes. Shrugging this disturbing revelation aside, he looked back into the file and started reading it. “Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII, born in 13th century Tuscany? Exemplary record… lived a nearly flawless early life? If only he hadn’t chosen to become a necromancer!?”

This deeply shook Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII. Though it turned out Tommy had been exaggerating, as Antonio had apparently lived a good life outside of necromancy. Nobody had liked him of course, being a heretic necromancer who looked like some kind of cheap horror movie character, but Antonio had still provided valuable services when people had needed them. “I shouldn’t be here,” he thought. “I should be up in Heaven. I can only imagine how many other mistakes like this have been made…”

Antonio looked around some more and found a computer in Satan’s desk. He wouldn’t have thought that they used computers in Hell, but it made more and more sense the more he thought about it. Naturally, Satan’s password was “password”, and Antonio decided he would take advantage of the situation to implement some cosmic justice. He would bring balance to the universe, being a righteous man given the power of God.

After typing in a few commands, Antonio hit the return key like it had owed him money. Satisfied, he got up and turned around to look out of the massive panoramic window. He could see a vast ocean of lava, with a coast that was blackened and rocky, looking inhabitable and yet lit up with the bright lights of many settlements, which were all doubtless places where the residents of Hell were tortured. As he watched, he saw hundreds of bright beams of light flash from the muddy red sky straight down to the ground. He smiled to himself, just as he heard a colossal crash behind him.

“What in the Hell,” bellowed the Devil, “has conspired here?” The Devil walked into the room, the ruined remains of the main door behind him. His voice sounded of pure power, with an impossibly booming level of bass that Antonio could feel in his bones. He was the size of 3 men, with a large forked tail and two large horns protruding out of his forehead, which was maroon, matching the rest of his body.  “I’m taking my first vacation in millennia, enjoying my time in San Diego, when I’m informed that some unauthorized low-life scum is in my personal office? And not just any unauthorized low-life scum, a resident?”

The Devil looked Antonio up and down, his glowing red eyes seeming to see straight into every cell in Antonio’s body. His sharp teeth became visible through his grin, then he started laughing. “Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII? You’ve just made your stay here in Hell… so much worse.”

With a motion of Satan’s hands, Antonio was restrained by some glowing red binds. Before Satan could continue, an extremely fit man dressed in white robes blasted straight through the panoramic window with contempt. He had short black hair with piercing, almost luminescent blue eyes. His clean-shaven jaw looked sharp enough to use as a weapon, and everything about him made Antonio feel inferior in every way. Even looking at the man for too long started to make his eyes hurt. Effortlessly hovering in the air, now with no discernible expression of emotion, he went over to Satan and looked him straight in the eyes. Satan, on the other hand, was seemingly unable to hold his gaze, and looked away.

“The Lord would like to express His dissatisfaction with you, Lucifer,” he said matter-of-factly in an extremely posh-sounding British accent, his voice sounding impossibly clear and extremely commanding. “There is a holy pact that has gone back to the founding of the universe. I know your kind doesn’t take kindly to any amount of reason or honor, but even I didn’t expect you to do something like this.”

Before the intimidating-looking man from Heaven could continue, Satan interjected. “I have done nothing of the sort, knave! This is the work of this dark magician, Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII.”

The man from Heaven turned around and sighed heavily. “Please, you expect me to believe that? You lot really are pathetic.”

Satan growled with irritation. He turned to Antonio. “What did you do?” he asked in a low, hushed voice.

Antonio smiled to himself and puffed up his chest, entirely overconfident and forgetting his place. “I have done what you are either too evil or too unintelligent to do,” he said, looking at both Satan and the well-dressed man from Heaven, the latter of whom immediately raised his eyebrow. “I have sent the best half of all people in Hell to Heaven. These people did not deserve to be here. They made mistakes in life, yes, but were ultimately good people.

The immaculately dressed man from Heaven scoffed. He turned to Lucifer and said, “Do you take the Lord and all of us in Heaven for fools, expecting us to believe this utter shamble? Could you have not picked a more convincing low-life to take the fall for you?”

“I know nothing of the situation!” Satan shouted angrily. He started storming over to the computer. Antonio stood by, unflinching, in total confidence that he had done the right thing.

“I mean, seriously,” continued the really very fancy looking man from Heaven. “If you’re going to come up with some pathetic excuse, don’t pick one we will so obviously know isn’t true. There has been no such influx of your heathenry to Heaven. Spending so much time down here really does reduce God’s creations to absolute worthlessness.”

Antonio was confused upon hearing this. How did none of the people he freed show up in Heaven? And why is the man from Heaven so rude? All of a sudden, he heard a bellowing roar from Satan, who promptly punched him with cosmic force. Antonio flew across the room, before hitting a television mounted on the wall. The force of the impact completely destroyed the TV, and Antonio was now lying on the ground reeling in pain.

“Do you realize what you have done!?” Satan was furious. “You will burn in the deepest circle of Hell for all eternity—I will torture you myself!”

The impeccably dressed man from Heaven scoffed again. “Are you seriously pretending to not know what happened? A man of God such as myself will not be so easily fooled by your pathetic tricks, Lucifer.”

“Don’t call me that! And you—” he turned to Antonio, who was now entirely aware that he was little more than an ant compared to everyone else in the room, then continued. “All you have done is send the WORST half of all people in Hell back to EARTH!”

The man with a perfect sense of fashion from Heaven interjected before the Devil could continue. “Finally, you admit to your wrongdoings, you traitorous wretch! I trust you realize that this surely means war, I was sent here to find out why this has happened and I have found no compelling reason whatsoever!”

The Devil sat still for a moment. “I suppose there is nothing else to be done in this situation.” He picked up a mobile phone and started typing an angry Tweet announcing his intentions. After he finished, he moved over to his desk, where he drafted and signed a document that was naturally written using someone’s blood. Probably someone who hated pens, documents, or both. He then got up and handed it to the hovering man from Heaven.

“A declaration of war? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, coming from such animals as you. I shall take this up to the Lord Himself, who shall surely destroy you once and for all. See you never,” he said, before flying straight out of the window and disappearing into the sky, sending a sonic boom echoing throughout Hell. Satan then turned to face Antonio, who was nowhere in sight.

Antonio, still in disbelief that he had manage to slip away undetected, was running as fast as he could to try and get as much distance between himself and the Devil as possible. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t looking where he was going, and ran straight into a guardrail with enough speed to flip straight over it, helplessly falling straight into some sort of magic portal that was stationed several miles below.

#

Antonio awoke again, though this time instead of being presented with the depressing sight of Satan’s office, he could feel a pleasant breeze on his face and grass beneath him. Sitting up, he looked around to see grassy rolling hills with a city in the distance. The view was short-lived, though, as soon a large aircraft dropped a gigantic bomb, destroying the entire city in one blast. Not ten seconds later, a missile shot up from the top of a faraway hill, striking the plane and destroying its wing. The plane faltered, then fell out of the sky, crashing down into a field with all of its explosives onboard, causing an even more massive explosion that wiped out a nearby town. Antonio heard gunfire behind him, and turned around to see two armies fighting each other. The two armies ran at each other and Antonio could only imagine the ridiculous amount of bloodshed going on.

Suddenly, amidst the fighting of the two armies, a giant red portal opened up out of the Earth. Soldiers started falling in, only to come flying back out impaled on the horns of giant red demons that had erupted out of the portal. The demons landed on the ground and promptly started tearing both armies to pieces. Before Antonio could even comprehend what was happening, another giant white portal appeared in the sky. Hundreds of people who looked similar to the man from Heaven he saw earlier flew out like Supermen, some riding on giant chanting chariots, all of them without any weapons at all. The demons, seeing this, roared with ferocity and left into the sky to fight them, with the humans, now fighting side by side on the ground, shooting at their backs. The angels and demons met some thousand feet off the ground, combining cosmic blows that destroyed everything on the ground for miles. It seemed as though each angel could easily destroy a hundred demons at a time, but more and more demons kept appearing. More and more fighting was happening, clearing away anything and everything else in the sky, and knocking Antonio hundreds of feet along the ground even though he was far, far away from the fight.

Stunned, Antonio sat up again, ears ringing and completely covered in dust and debris from the blasts in the distance. Through his blurred vision he looked around him. The countryside was destroyed, and the cosmic forces were nowhere to be seen, surely having moved the fight elsewhere. Antonio tried to stand, but his body was too sore from being thrown about. He blacked out.

#

Antonio awoke once more, and now was greeted with the sight of a hospital. The inside of a hospital, that is. In fact, now that he’s waking up properly, Antonio noticed that this hospital was completely overcrowded. The nurse came over and looked him up and down. “I’m not sure why you’re still here, but get up and get out. Go down the hall and to the left.”

He wasn’t particularly surprised by her rudeness, given the circumstances, so he got up and went down the hall she mentioned. Even in the hall, there were bandaged people strewn all about the ground. “This is truly apocalyptic,” Antonio thought to himself, trying not to think about how he had caused it all. Upon reaching the end of the hall, he decided that he was a maverick, and went right instead of left. After a short walk, he found himself in what appeared to be a recruitment center.

“Another recruit— oh, God, you’re an ugly one aren’t you?” noted a man with an extremely well-featured face was sitting at a desk. “Never mind that, all able-bodied discharges go through there,” he said, pointing to a door just past his desk. Antonio, deciding that being a maverick hadn’t been very beneficial for him, elected to do as the man said. In a blur, he was given armor and a strange weapon, and loaded into a large metal carriage that seemed to drive itself with a bunch of other men, many of whom were covered in bandages. Antonio judged he was somewhere in the American Midwest, though the world had devolved into complete chaos as millions of the worst people who ever lived had been brought back to life.

From talking with the other soldiers, Antonio had learned that several major nations had been taken over by some of these people, who had immediately started violent wars in as many parts of the world as they could manage. Most large cities had already been destroyed by bombs they called “nuclear”, and now that the demons and angels were fighting each other, even more of the world had been completely destroyed. One soldier even said that Mount Everest had been completely leveled. Antonio was completely wracked with guilt, knowing he had caused all of this.

Suddenly the transport stopped, and the commander shouted to Antonio and his fellow soldiers to get out. Antonio got out and ran, before looking back and seeing a demon flying straight into his transport. An angel flew up and emitted a pure white beam of light from his bare hand, which shot straight into the demon and obliterated him.

“Children of God,” he started, turning to the soldiers. “Fear not, for the Lord shall protect you. Retreat to safety, and let us handle this threat.” He then rose into the air, and flew impossibly fast into the distance, causing a massive sonic boom that startled all the soldiers.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Antonio asked his commander.

The commander sat and thought for some time. “Listen,” he began. “We are completely outgunned in this fight. I think the flying man is right, we have no hope of defeating the enemy with what we have. There’s an old nuclear bunker 20 klicks that way.” He pointed to his left side, then continued, “Carry your weapons with you, let’s march.”

About 10 miles in, the march was disrupted. Right in front of the group, a demon came crashing down after being thrown what looked like hundreds of miles. Still disoriented, he opened his eyes and tried to look around.

“Fire! Fire! Give it everything you’ve got!” bellowed the commander. Every soldier opened fire, pumping hundreds of rounds into the demon. After what felt like 5 minutes of straight shooting, they let up. The demon looked as though he had merely been shot with a super soaker, and just looked at them. Seeing the terror on their faces, he smiled, and stood up, but then stopped after hearing a loud boom behind him. He turned around and couldn’t see anything, but suddenly an angel flew down out of the sky and kicked his head clean off. The angel turned to face the soldiers, and despite all of the brutal fighting, there wasn’t a single speck of dirt anywhere on her. Her long, flowing golden hair didn’t even look the slightest bit disturbed.

“You should all get to safety,” she said in what sounded like a Greek accent. “We are pushing the enemy back, but it’s still not safe to be out here. We will let you know when the demons have all been taken care of, and remember that you are all under the Lord’s eternal protection.” She then flew far up into the sky, until Antonio couldn’t see her anymore.

“Let’s keep marching,” said the commander. “The sooner we get to that bunker, the better.” They resumed the march, and only saw fighting happening in the distance for the rest of the trip. Upon arriving at the bunker, they turned on the radios and waited for their all-clear signal. And they waited. And waited some more. Until Antonio couldn’t bear waiting, and faded into darkness.

#

Antonio opened his eyes, as he had done many times after being stuck in that bunker. They waited 2 years for the all-clear signal, emerging from the bunker to see practically nothing left on the surface. The angels remained on Earth for some time to regenerate the natural resources that had been destroyed, then most left. The few who stayed provided support for some time, but then they left as well. Antonio traveled around for several years afterwards, trying to find somewhere proper to stay, but the world had largely been thrown back into the pre-industrial era. Nevertheless he persisted, traveling across the North American continent to help whom he could. Instead of necromancy, he learned healing magic to try and aid the people he came across along the way.

One day, Antonio found an old map of the United States. He instantly recognized most of the regions he had visited, but one area stuck out to him as strange. “Wyoming?” He’d never heard of this place, nor had he ever been there. He decided that this is where he would visit next, and after a few months of being on the road, he finally arrived and was shocked to see that it seemed entirely untouched.

After traveling into the city outskirts, Antonio looked around. Many people walked about freely with not a care in the world, all of them looking pristine in luxurious looking clothing. They reminded Antonio of the angels he had seen, though that must’ve just been how people looked right before the apocalypse. There were so many cars on the road that they actually had to stop and line up in turns to wait for each other, and all were driven by regular people rather than military personnel. Antonio looked back at the sidewalk and saw a man walking towards him. He held a small black slab in his hand that shone on his face, and was wearing very high quality clothing. Antonio walked up to him and grabbed his shoulder .

“What happened here?” Antonio asked, stunned at what he had just seen.

“Hey, what the hell? Watch yourself buddy, or I’ll call the police! Now I don’t know if you want any money or anything, but why don’t you go beg somewhere else instead of bothering me, ok?” He turned around and started walking away. Antonio grabbed his shoulder again, this time not letting go.

“What happened here? This place looks like it wasn’t destroyed in the war, that’s impossible!”

“War? What are you talking about? Are you pretending to be a time traveler or something? Or are you one of those people who like to play dress-up? And God, you reek, get away from me!”

Antonio grabbed him with both hands. “The war, the angels and the demons, it was years ago! Back in 2021!”

“Look, dude, I’m calling the cops. There was no ‘war’ in 2021, all that happened was the electrical grid crash and all the movies got canceled.” He started fiddling with his device, but then got frustrated and gave up. “And the damn cell service went to shit. But I’m pretty sure we would’ve noticed if there was a war.”

Antonio was in disbelief. “The rest of your country is destroyed! The entire world is destroyed! This state of ‘Wyoming’ is the only place left, and you don’t even know what happened?”
 The man from Wyoming shrugged. “To be honest… we don’t really pay attention to the rest of the world. And they don’t pay any attention to us. What you’re saying… it would sort of make sense why all those movies never came out… do you have any photos of it on your phone?”
 Antonio collapsed to the ground. “So what you’re telling me is,” he started, out of breath. “This place was left untouched… because everyone forgot about it?”

“Yeah, probably. I dunno, dude.  I think I should probably call someone to come get you.”  He started looking around, before pulling his glowing slab back out again.

“No, no… I don’t understand… just give me a moment.” Antonio lay down on the ground and covered his face. He could hear the murmurs of other pedestrians watching in confusion. Soon he sat back up and looked around, only to see a seemingly endless sea of faces in front of him. “Wait, no… please…” He turned to look at the man he had been speaking with, but he was no longer there.

The crowd parted, and two mustached men dressed in blue uniforms donning gleaming silver badges came through. Antonio couldn’t comprehend what was happening. They restrained him and put him in the back of a car. Antonio watched the surreal sight of the city pass him by; everything looked exactly as it must have been before the apocalypse. Antonio had not been in a car for many years, and the sensation of moving so fast was starting to make him sick.

Thankfully, the car stopped outside of a large, intimidating building. The uniformed men dragged him in and up to a woman standing by a desk.

“What is your name?” the woman asked him.

“I am Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII. I am from Tuscany of the 13th Century. I died and went to Hell, but accidentally caused the apocalypse when I tried to send half of the people in Hell to Heaven.”

“Oh, really? Here, walk with me, and you can tell me all about it.” Antonio started following the woman down the hallway.

“Yes. I’m a necromancer, you see. Or, I was. But that’s  why I was in Hell. I somehow managed to get into the Devil’s offices, and on his computer I tried to send the best half of people to Heaven. It was a sort of cosmic justice, you know?”

“Oh, for sure,” the woman responded. Antonio could sense that she wasn’t particularly interested in the conversation, but he continued nonetheless.

“Yeah, so it turns out I got it backwards, I suppose. I sent the worst half of people to Earth, instead of the best half to Heaven. So this angel came down and Satan ended up declaring war, I suppose.”

“Angels and demons, eh? I’m all ears,” the woman said, completely uninterested.

“I managed to escape, and then I somehow ended up back on Earth. This was way back in 2021, of course, before the apocalypse. Which happened immediately after I returned. There were already nuclear wars and whatnot, but the war of the angels and demons really devastated the world, you know?”

The woman nodded. “Of course, we all saw it, right?”

“Yeah, finally, someone who knows what happened! So I ended up in a bunker during the war, for several years while the angels finished off the demons. Then I traveled around the country, I learned proper healing magic so that I could help people. Then I heard of this place, ‘Wyoming’, and came over here to check it out. You guys seem to be the only part of the world that was left untouched. It seems as though everybody forgot you existed.”

“Yes, we are used to that; that was a fascinating story, but we’ve arrived at your room. You can stay here as long as you like, you’ll be perfectly safe and taken care of.”

Antonio was startled, but very excited at this news. “Oh, thank you so much!” He eagerly rushed into the room, which was largely empty. “Hey, wait, this room doesn’t even have a—” He was cut off by the door closing and locking. The room was padded, and there was nothing but a light in the roof and a bed in the corner. Antonio knocked on the doors for hours, trying to get someone to talk to him, but nobody answered. Eventually, some food slipped through a hatch in the wall, and some time after that he was restrained and escorted to a restroom. He tried to talk to the guards, but they didn’t respond, and he was locked back in the room.

Eventually, Antonio lost track of the days, the months, then the years. One day, he fell asleep on his bed as he had done thousands of times before, but when he woke, he sat in a familiar black void. An invisible door opened, and he saw a familiar face come through.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII.” He laughed fiendishly. “We’ve been waiting for you down here. Let’s see…” He pulled out Antonio’s file, then continued, “Necromancy. Nasty business, that. But let’s just skip this part and get to the real juicy bit.” He licked his finger, then flipped the page. “Insurrection against the natural order. Impersonating the Devil. Unauthorized actions compromising the realm of Hell. Actions causing the release of people from Hell. Returning to Earth without permission. Actions directly causing the death of millions on Earth. And perhaps the worst of all: directly causing the Intergalactic Wyoming Empire to become the dominant human civilization—for the foreseeable future, at least. Seriously?” He leaned in closely, then continued, “they would never have known if you never went there!”

He slammed the file shut with a satisfied grin on his face. “There’s a special place down here for you. I don’t think any human has ever been there, so congratulations on becoming the first! You should take it as a compliment, really,” Tommy said, leaning back in his chair. He began fiddling with his mustache. “And I suppose I can use it as bragging rights. ‘Tommy, the torturer who was once assigned to the infamous Tony Aurelius!’ I like the sound of that!” He laughed again. “Oi, mind if I take a quick video of the two of us for my socials? I could use this cred’. And you’ll probably look disfigured forevermore once the Boss starts his work on you, so I should get in early y’know?”

Antonio, having not listened to Tommy for some time, did not respond, but only hung his head in shame. He didn’t know what was in store for him, but he did feel that he deserved it. He had officially become the worst person to have ever lived.

——-

Who: A necromancer with a heart of gold What: Causes the apocalypse When: The year 2021 Where: In Hell Why: To bring balance to the universe

[stardustkenobi]

Razbliuto

Kylo Ren x Reader

Warnings: canonic typical violence, angst, mention of loss 

A/N: Hello everyone! This might be a series, it might not be, but i just wanted to write some Kylo fic okay? Okay. Cool. This takes place somewhere between The Last Jedi and The Rise of Skywalker!

Razbliuto [ros-blee-OO-toe] – noun. The feeling a person has for someone he or she once loved but now does not.

“You still call me Ben in your mind.”

His voice was steady, perhaps even uninterested behind that Godforsaken mask as he swept into the prison hold you had been situated in for approximately five days now.

You narrowed your eyes up at the man who was once your best friend, your partner in crime, before standing up. The one that would make goofy faces over Master Skywalker’s shoulder after you had been scolded for, once again, letting yourself center your focus on your anxieties rather than simply letting go.

“I figured my mind was a safe space for me to retreat away from the ridiculous amount of interrogation that you and your watch dogs have put me through over the past few days.” Despite your…predicament, you found yourself to be just as capable of confronting Kylo Ren with a tone as chillingly calm as his own. Dripping with disinterest, trying so desperately to disguise the fact that you were almost trembling.

He stopped in front of you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Not when you’re calling his name out like that in your mind.”

The fall of the Temple, albeit years ago now, was not something you were likely to ever forget. The putrid smell of smoke and burning flesh still filled your nose as you woke from nightmares now and again – it was only magnified here, what with the sterile walls and complete and utter silence between grueling interrogation sessions.

“Your name.” You said simply, trying to push him as far as you could. Maybe you’d make him angry enough to let you go, or even end it all for you. Maybe he’d wipe your mind and try to take you on as a student, like he tried to so many years ago. You had no way of knowing if you had been compromised and were almost positive that even though you ranked high in the chain of command with the Resistance, there would be no attempt to rescue you. No attempt to make a prisoner exchange. You weren’t even sure if they would take you back if you somehow managed to escape and you prayed that they would put you on an escape pod with no coordinates and let you float through space. It seemed like the best punishment for letting yourself succumb to the torture you had been subjected to – you’d never see your friends again and you’d have to live with your guilt until you finally met your end.

His hands came up to the mask, unhinging it with a mechanic hiss that felt as cold as his demeanor toward you. He lifted it up, then tucked it under his arm. “Is this what you wanted?” He asked, deep brown eyes so uncharacteristically cold. So unlike they had been the last time you had seen his face, on your knees and begging him not to leave with Snoke and the others he had managed to convince to come with him.

You steeled your jaw as you tried your very best to not let him on to the fact that seeing his face was the worst form of torture he could have inflicted on you. “Yes.” You growled, voice cracking despite your efforts to make the simple word drip with acid.

A knowing smirk traced his lips and it was enough to bring you to your knees for him all over again. “Ben Solo is dead.” He said simply, his posture not changing in the slightest. “He was gone the minute I left the ruins of the temple.”

His voice in all of its unmodulated glory and his eyes on yours brought back memories of running through the fields of Naboo on excursions that your master allowed every once and awhile. Your first kiss in the cockpit of his father’s beloved ship, the one that you had spent hours on after he and his wife came to save you and Luke from the carnage their son had inflicted on what was everything to the two of you.

“It doesn’t have to end the way it did last time.” He continued, taking advantage of your uncharacteristic silence. “You don’t have to walk away. You can stay and be with me and we can build something together, like we used to talk about.”

All you could see was the inside of that very same cockpit – how Han and Chewbacca sat rigidly silent at the helm of the ship. How Leia held you as she cried silently. How Luke had found a blanket for you and wrapped you in it before leaving to sit in the gunner’s seat, despite the fact that there was no imminent threat. He couldn’t bring himself to watch his sister cry, to watch you cry as you stared out into hyperspace with complete and total numbness. To watch the man he considered to be a brother white knuckle the controls of his Falcon, at a loss for words because the ship felt a little lighter with the notable absence of his only son.

“It still kills her, you know.” You growled suddenly, trying your hardest to ignore the part of you that screamed to run into his arms and kiss him with the force of a thousand suns. “I see a part of her die each and every day she wakes up and goes to the bridge, knowing that it’ll be another day that you won’t return to her.”

His jaw tightened at the mention of his mother, the one thing from his old life that could still make him keel over with the force of that pull to the light. It had dulled since Han Solo had died, but the reoccurring dreams of the last time his mother had looked over his face with the knowledge from his former master that there was a conflict in his heart, that look that could convince the most closed off of people that she saw into their hearts and knew and understood everything they felt? That was enough to make him question everything.

It was your turn to take advantage of the silence that ebbed from both his lips and his mind. “It kills her that she has lost everything, everything because you made the worst decision you could have. You are the reason that her husband and brother are dead and she clings to me, the closest thing she’s had to a daughter, like it’s her last chance at breathing in clean air.” She snapped, eyes hard. “She’s probably searching for me right now, has probably sent her best pilot –“

You were silenced when you surged backwards into the bench you had slept on ever since arriving on the First Order controlled ship. He wouldn’t ever hit you, or try to hurt you in any way, shape, or form, you told yourself. Pushing you back was his way of putting you in your place without raising a hand to you. “The best pilot,” He sneered, looking down at you with total disdain. “You’re talking about isn’t all he’s cracked up to be. I snapped him like a toothpick and I know for a fact that General Organa wouldn’t ever dare send her pet back this way. Too great of a risk, even to save you.”

It wasn’t his words about Poe that cut you to the core, or even the insinuation that Leia would rather keep him safe over you. It was the fact that he was now looking at you like he looked at every other Resistance prisoner, as if you were nothing but the dirt beneath his boots that some unlucky bastard had the honor of scrubbing clear before he went to grovel at the feet of his master. You, who had once been the subject of his praises and sweet nothings and promises of his forever after you had both passed the trials? You were now just another piece of rebel scum. Nothing. Not when you turned him away and pushed him further and further toward the anger that made him bend toward the dark in the first place.

The thing was, Kylo Ren almost hoped that you would be the one to push him back the other way. To drive him back into his mother’s embrace because deep down he was so, so sorry for every single misstep he had taken since the moment he was born. For the disgrace he had brought to his family and for the disappointment that he knew lived in Leia’s heart and would continue to for the rest of her life if he never came back.

The desire kept him awake at night and he did his damned best to keep it from Snoke during the most invasive of probs from his master, the puppeteer pulling all of his strings. He was sure as hell scrambling with all of his might to hide it from you now as you sat before him for the first time in years. Same eyes, just broken and hardened with all of the carnage you had seen because of him.

“You know there’s only one way this ends up favorable for you.” He finally said, voice taught. He was teetering again and you were starting to become aware of it as you reached out to him with the Force, trying desperately to grasp for any fraction of the man he once was.

You shook your head. “I would rather die –“

He scoffed, tossing his helmet to the floor with a clang. “You and I both know that I wouldn’t let you die.” He said, leading you to believe that there was definitely a possibility that he was teetering on his allegiances. “You can either stay here or go.”

You opened your mouth to say that you would be more than willing to leave, but were interrupted before the words left your mouth.

“If you leave, you will tell me the location of General Organa’s secret base.” He said simply, flicking an invisible piece of dust off of his tunic. “Then your mind will be wiped and you will be a spy for us. At the end of the war, if you do well, you will return to me and rule by my side.”

You scoffed this time, opening your mouth once more, only to be silenced by his words once more.

“If you stay and don’t submit, you’ll be tried for crimes against the New Republic and we will eventually pull the location of the base from your mind.” He said simply, leaning against the wall as if he was simply telling someone what he wanted for dinner that evening. “If you do…” He trailed off, licking his lips. “If you stay and you give yourself to me, it’ll be just like it used to be.” He was desperate now as he watched you. Definitely teetering. “We can train together, get stronger.”

“You could come back with me.” You breathed, shaking your head. “We don’t have to stay here. You know she’d take you back in the blink of an eye.”

“That part of me is gone.” He snarled, trying to convince himself more than you. “But I still love you, Y/N. That part of me never went anywhere. If you stay, I won’t ask you to give me the coordinates of the base anymore. I won’t ask you to send your friends to their demise. I won’t make you fight them if you so choose and I won’t bring them up. This can be a new start for you.”

The tears in your eyes threatened to betray you and you quickly dwindling resolve as you shook your head once more. “You never use to speak in clichés, Ben.”

His eyes hardened once more at your words. “Never call me that again.”

“No.” You snapped back, sitting up straighter. “If you really still love me, you have to know that I only love the man I knew before he destroyed the temple. I don’t know a damn thing about you except that you have taken everything so, if you really want me to stay and…And submit to you? You’ll have to cope with me calling you by your goddamn name because fuck, Ben, you took everything from me!” The tears you had tried so desperately to hold back were now flowing freely as you stood, marching up to stand right against his chest. You thrust a finger into his face accusingly, eyes hard. “You’re taking everything from me right now – the friends that have come to replace you and your father and uncle? You’re giving me the ultimatum to either lead them to their deaths or still give them a fighting chance, but never see them again. How can you say that you love me, but make me choose between you and them?”

Kylo Ren tightened his jaw once more, studying you over and over again as he remained silent. Part of him was trying not to tremble from your close proximity, part of him was trying not to snap and give you no other option but to stay and submit or to stay and have your mind wiped because all he knew is that he wanted you back. Preferably chosen on your own accord.

“I’ll expect your answer in the morning.” He said after a long silence, taking a step back and picking up his mask. His eyes never left you as you collapsed onto the floor, chest heaving from the exertion of pent up emotions. The minute he stepped over the door frame, the door slid shut, leaving you in darkness once more.

The only difference being that now your nightmares would be plagued by a set of once warm brown eyes, dimples, and beauty marks dappled across a face that you used to kiss over and over again until your face and his were rosy.

[dontcare77ghj]

Sandwiched

 Steve x reader x Peggy

Note: in this fic Peggy was given the same serum as Steve, the two were involved before they were both frozen in the same plane crash. Also, mentions of homophobia and racism (Fuck those people), just a few mentions of some assholes.

Masterlist     Sleep Series Masterlist     Halloween/Supernatural Masterlist

Dating two people from the 1940’s wasn’t something everyone in 2019 could say. Steve and Peggy were everything you could want in a relationship though. They had gorgeous souls, they loved humanity and they cared far too much. They were your match in every way.

When they woke up in this decade Fury had asked you to help them adjust into their new lives. It was almost inevitable when you fell for the two of them. The shock of the century was when they admitted they fell for you.

You easily fit into the relationship, Steve and Peggy often said it was because they were subconsciously waiting for you, and you couldn’t be happier. The three of you shared many traits but the one the everyone noticed was how you wanted to help. Now of course you couldn’t save everyone and there were people in this world who made it their goal to hurt those around them, but you all still tried. Though sometimes when all else failed the three of you comforted each other.

Out of the three of you Steve took things the most to heart. He liked saving people, he like defending the little guy and stopping the bully, you and Peggy knew he always gave his all but sometimes it just wasn’t enough. It doesn’t matter if you put your heart, soul and body into something, sometimes things just happen, and you can’t control it.

Steve had been out of the country for a few months now. After finding Bucky and finding out what they did to him all these years, Steve snapped. He wanted revenge for his friend, he wanted to make sure that HYDRA never hurt anyone else ever again.

In his quest to stop HYDRA, HYDRA began to retaliate. They began more experiments, attempted decimate towns and tried to ruin the lives of anyone they could. For the first time in months, Steve was coming home for a while.

A recent mission had gone wrong. Terribly wrong. Innocent lives had been lost and he had been fruitless in his attempts to save them. Fury seeing Steve’s rapidly deteriorating mental state, especially after the last mission, had sent him home.

The fact he reportedly put up no argument, really alerted you and Peggy as to what kind of condition your boyfriend was in.

Currently, you and Peggy were waiting, anxiously, in the hanger for Steve’s jet to land.

“Stop pacing.” Peggy said in her strong accent. “You’re making me feel anxious.” She complained, crossing her arms.

“I can’t help it.” You told her, turning sharply to face the brunette. “You heard him on the phone last night.”

“Yes, he sounded absolutely dreadful.” She pointed out, reaching her hand towards you to pull you into her. “But we are going to fix that.”

“We don’t even the extent of the state he’s in. What if we can’t help him?” You asked, biting your lower lip in worry. Peggy leaned down and gently pressed her lips to your making you stop biting your own to kiss the woman back.

“We will work it out. Together. Like we always do.” Peggy assured as you pulled away. Before either of you could say another word, the hanger creaked open and the loud sound of a quinjet arriving reached the pair of your ears.

The two of you watched as Steve’s team left the jet first, all of them appearing tired and a few maybe even injured, until Steve finally appeared. He was clearly exhausted, both mentally and physically, his face looked gaunt, his entire body was hunched over and he appeared ready to drop at any minute.

You and Peggy rushed over to the man and each wrapped an arm around his waist, attempting to support him. Though Peggy was probably doing more of the work with her super soldier strength, you still attempted to help the exhausted blonde.

Steve didn’t say anything as you helped him into the bedroom. The three of you sat on the bed with Steve in between you and Peggy. It was after a few minutes of silences, that Steve finally spoke.

“I couldn’t help them. I couldn’t help anyone.” He muttered, not looking away from the ceiling. He’d been staring blankly at it since you brought him up. “All I wanted to do was to help.”

“We know, Stevie.” Peggy murmured, placing a kiss onto his shoulder. “But there wasn’t anything you could do.”

“You can’t control these things, Stevie.” You told him, shifting to look up at him. “You went out there with honorable intentions, but these people aren’t honorable people.”

“They are pure evil.” Peggy added. Steve looked down between the two of you and nodded his head minorly.

“I just wanted to help.” He repeated, shifting so he was laying down rather than sitting. Steve did not release his grip on the two of you, so you were forced to follow his actions. He held you tightly to his chest as you both laid with him.

You and Peggy would switch off on saying soothing things to the brooding man and drawing soothing shapes on his chest, until he fell asleep with the two of you crushed to his chest.

“He’s still going to be blaming himself in the morning.” You whispered long after Steve had fallen asleep.

“I know.” Peggy said, reaching across his large chest to grab your hand. “But we will ensure he does not feel like this for long.” She added, giving your hand a comforting squeeze.

“I love you, Peg.” You said, kissing her hand before settling down on Steve’s chest. She leaned over and kissed your forehead gently and then Steve’s chest.

“I love you too, Y/N.” The two of you fell asleep with Steve’s arms tightly wrapped around your waists and yours around his shoulders. A comforting position.

Peggy took a lot to heart. She was passionate, she made changes and she did things. She liked to change things, make people see where they could fix things and make their own life changes.

Back in the 40’s there were a lot of bigoted people. People who expected her to act like other ladies of the decade. Didn’t appreciate how she took charge. Didn’t think she could fight or should for that matter. The fact she was bisexual was not something to brag about in her day either.

When she woke up 70 years later with Steve by her side, she thought things would’ve changed. Women were involved in the military and S.H.E.I.L.D, they took charge and sexuality was often an open thing. She and Steve were told they’d won the war, but no-one told them they were still fighting a war.

Bigotry had not died with the turn of the century. There were still plenty of people who thought women were weak, the LGBT+ community was wrong, and that people of different ethnicities were bad people.

Peggy actively spoke out against those people and would give long opinionated lectures to them and the moronic masses surrounding them. Unfortunately for Peggy, these people were so locked in their one-track thoughts they couldn’t see how they were wrong, and they wouldn’t believe that they could be wrong for once in their miserable lives.

Peggy had volunteered to speak at an LGBT+ event. She had a whole speech planed about being who you are, that it shouldn’t matter to anyone what your sexual preference or gender was and that you should always feel safe in whatever type of relationship you were in.

One narrow minded, foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach who had to interrupt her before she’d even really started. Of course, Peggy had told him where to go and where he was wrong, but she was still fuming at his attempt to belittle her and the people she was speaking to.

She had come home practically breathing fire, vile words about the heinous man falling out of her mouth as easily as she breathed.

“And then he had the nerve to say I was greedy and selfish for being bisexual and for being polyamorous.” She ranted, pacing the length of the room. You and Steve sat on the bed watching the woman pace furiously. “Who the bloody hell does he think he is?”

“He’s no-one.” You assured, standing up and grabbing her by the shoulders to stop her. “He’s just another nameless, faceless, asshole who thinks things no-one cares about.”

“But that’s the thing, N/N, he’s not faceless. Not this time. I saw him, I had to look at him as he shouted these vile things to not just me but those kids there.” She sighed, placing her hands on yours.

“And they were all able to see what a coward that man was.” Steve said, moving over to stand behind her. The two of you wrapped your arms around Peggy who went limp at the comforting touch the two of you gave her.

“The man is scum, Peg.” You murmured into her ear as you played with the ends of her hair. “People will come to realize how wrong he is one day.”

“But you were so strong today.” Steve added, kissing the top of her head. “You showed him what was what and all those kids saw how strong you are.”

Peggy didn’t say anything. She just relaxed further into the tight grip you held her in. Steve maneuvered the two of you over to the bed and laid the three of you onto the soft sheets.

Peggy lay sandwiched in yours and Steve’s arms and let out a few shuddering breathes as she attempted to quell her anger. You and Steve ran your fingers through her hair, played with her fingers and just let her know you where there for the woman.

“I love you.” Peggy murmured after several minutes. “Thank you.” She whispered, closing her eyes and letting out a deep breath.

“Love you too, Peg.” You said, kissing her cheek. “Love you, Stevie.” You added, taking his hand in yours.

“I love both my best girls.” Steve told you, squeezing your hand and throwing his arm across the two of your waists. Within seconds Peggy was fast asleep, held in Steve’s and your warm embrace.

Out of the three of you, you opened your heart the most. Steve and Peggy could see this as a positive thing at times, after all, you’d opened your heart to the two of them and easily accepted them into your life. Though, there was a downside to wearing your heart on your sleeve.

Your parents hadn’t said anything when you came out as bisexual. They did stir a little when you declared S.H.E.I.L.D. had hired you. Their reaction to you joining The Avengers initiative was mostly the same. They had caused a bit of a fuss when you’d announced you were in a polyamorous relationship, but when they found out you were in a poly relationship with Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter.

“They are dangerous, Y/N. We kept quiet when you said you were joining The Avengers, but this is ridiculous.” Your mother sighed, narrowing her eyes at you.

“I recall you saying I was going to get killed but sure, let’s say you kept your mouths shut.” You said, rolling your eyes at the two in front of you.

“Y/N L/N, this is not a joking matter.” Your father scolded. “You are getting yourself involved with some dangerous people. People who are older than us for God’s sake.”

“Physically they are my age. I know you can’t see past the numbers but they are the right people for me. Is it the age that makes you bulk or the fact involved with a man and a woman?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Maybe it’s both.” You mother said, standing from the table you were all sat at. “Y/N you are going down a dangerous path. You are constantly risking your life and your ‘love life’, if you can even call it that, is perverted.” 

“We would have been fine if you had just stuck to being bisexual, but this is too much. You are in a polyamorous relationship with Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter, with your lifestyle you are going to die an early death and when you do, we believe you will be going to hell.” Your father added, standing next your mother and taking her hand.

“We can help you darling.” Your mother said, giving you a sickly sweet smile. “Leave that team and end your perverted relationship and we can help you.”

“No.” You exclaimed, jumping from the table. “Fuck that. I will not be given an ultimatum, and not by the two of you. I love my job, I save the world for Thor’ s sake, I love my friendships and most of all I love Steve and Peggy. I will not leave any of them.” You snapped, slamming your hands on the table and glaring at them.

“Then neither of us want to see or contact you again.” Your father said, pulling your mother into his side. “Get out of our house and never darken our doorstep again. You are not our daughter.”

“Good.” You snarled and stormed out of the house. You jumped into your car and drove furiously back to the base. Your anger prevented you from bursting into tears, but it hurt that they had treated you like that.

Once you got back to the compound you moved as quickly as you could back to your room without drawing attention to yourself. Making it to the floor you shared with Steve and Peggy, the dam finally broke.

You sat on the couch and began to sob. You couldn’t breath. You couldn’t think. All you could hear was the sob of your own sobs and your parents echoing words.

Arms wrapping around your shoulders made you jump in surprise and you snapped your eyes to see your brunette girlfriend looking at you worriedly.

“Shh darling, it’s alright. You’re okay.” She said, pulling you in closer. 

“They don’t want me.” You cried, burying your face in her shoulder. “They told me I was disgusting and they never want to see me again.”

“Your parents?” She asked, running her fingers through your hair. You nodded tried to stop the tears streaming down your face. “They don’t deserve you, darling.”

“No, they don’t.” Steve said, sitting behind you and pulling you and Peggy onto his lap. “It’s their loss, doll.”

Steve and Peggy held you tightly, reassuring you of their own love for you. After several minutes of sobbing, your tears dried up and your breathing began to become rhythmic. 

“I love you. I love the two of you.” You said, sleepily leaning up to kiss Steve’s jaw and Peggy’s cheek. Laying your head on Peggy’s shoulder you began to fall asleep. A loving position.

With the three of you, comfort involved soothing words, gentle touches and laying sandwiched between the other two. You showed your comfort in physical ways and it was what worked for the three of you.

Taglist;

@piper-koko-barnes-rogers     @skeletoresinthebasement      @hopingforbarnes  

Show your support. Give it a like. Leave a comment. Share with your friends and reblog. Inbox/Message me comments, ideas, pairings or if you would like to be added to the taglist.

Coming soon;

Natasha x reader x Bucky

Steve x reader x Bucky

Bucky x reader x Sam

Steve x reader x Natasha

Natasha x reader x Sam

Steve x reader x Sam x Bucky

Steve x reader x Sam

Natasha x reader x Bucky x Clint

[honeymoonjin]

Wouldst Thou Like to Live Deliciously? - jimin x reader

A/N: Jimin is sick of being a virgin, and the pressure of the first time with a girl, so he decides to summon a sex demon to get it over with. 4.2k. Warnings for sexual content: male receiving anal, male receiving overstimulation, male receiving multiple orgasms, sub!Jimin obviously

Generally, you were the seeker and not the sought. Sex demons weren’t exactly the most coveted of the demons when it came to humans. You were used to residing on Earth and spending your time in grimy dive bars and alleyways, preying on the spineless men and women that inhabited them. As a succubus, you were sustained by the sexual energy of a human’s orgasm, and when humans wanted to summon a demon, normally they wanted to take rather than give.

Crossroads demons were in high demand; your friend Namjoon had just hit ten thousand souls last month from all the pitiful people on the planet who made deals with him. Even more popular, but much rarer, were demons like your ex Yoongi, who could tell the future for the right price. Never wrong, you had got the feeling that he always knew exactly what was going to happen in your relationship. When you had called it quits almost two years ago, he had already packed his bag and called an Uber before you even got home from work.

Truth be told, regardless of your job, you hadn’t had a good fuck since. Nobody could do it like the man who could predict your every nerve. Though you knew the two of you would never work out, your mouth watered at the memory of one night where he kept you on the edge of an orgasm for three hours, only to walk away and leave you tied up. When he finally returned and fucked you stupid, it was the best climax of your life.

Since then, you had been left with the plentiful scum of the Earth, letting yourself starve so that even the shittiest of lays would at least satisfy you for a while. It was while you were in a suburban neighborhood, ready to take a pathetic cheater of a husband after posing as the babysitter for a month, that you felt the unmistakable pull in your gut. You were being summoned.

You swore, got up off your knees and dropped the innocent act. Mr. Brooks cried out in disappointment and confusion as you ran out the hallway, but you had no choice. Summoning never took longer than twenty or so seconds for you since the recitation was so short, and letting a human see you vanish into thin air wasn’t wise.

Locking yourself in his bathroom and opening the window to fake an escape, you hear the echo of a sweet voice chime in your ears and feel a heat on your skin as the room tilts and shifts and morphs around you.

You end up in a room far different from the white tile bathroom with a seaside theme. This place was clearly a bedroom of sorts, but it was far messier than the bedroom of the suburban father you had just left in the middle of a blowjob. The sheets were all rumpled, the desk and bookshelves covered in scattered academic memorabilia, and you could smell burning incense; aniseed and cinnamon.

There was a young human cowering across from you, arms thrown across its face to shield itself from the burst of flames that had erupted upon your arrival. He probably hadn’t expected the salt circle on his carpet to light up, but he needn’t worry. Hellfire, as dramatic as it sounded, was in reality nothing more than an accessory. Only condemned souls could feel it or interact with it at all. If this human had bothered to look closely before it wicked away, it would have seen the way it floated a centimeter above the salt, never touching it.

Finally, the arms were lowered, and you could see it was a boy who had summoned you. You frowned at how innocent he looked, standing there in blue overalls and a yellow sweater. Surely this wasn’t a child? No, upon closer inspection of his face you could tell he was in his twenties, simply with a youthful face and eyes wide with apprehension.

“Mortal,” you declare lazily, having repeated this particular line far too many times to be bothered with enforcing any real drama or power behind it, “for what purpose do you summon me?”

“Oh, uh, right to it, I guess,” he says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with a sweater paw. “I really didn’t think this would actually work! Um, I’m Jimin, nice to meet you.”

Now it’s your turn to feel awkward at his apparent unpreparedness, but you keep a cool façade. “You are aware I am a succubus, no? I will not repeat myself again; for what purpose do you summon me? I cannot broker deals or tell fortunes like my brethren.”

“No! No, I don’t want a deal or whatever. I read somewhere that succubae need sex to stay alive, and that it doesn’t kill the victim.”

You shrug. “Correct. And so?”

He laughs nervously. “Well, I wasn’t going to do this, but I got desperate. You see, I’ve kind of always had trouble talking to girls, and all of my friends have alr-”

“I tire of your digressions, mortal. Either answer my question or release me. I have better things to do.”

Jimin shakes his mop of bleached blonde hair out of his face with a blush, avoiding your harsh gaze. “I just want you to have sex with me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You summoned a demon purely to have sexual relations with it? I believe many would consider that inadvisable. There are currently over seven billion humans on this planet. Why not turn to one of your own kind to satisfy your needs?”

His cheeks are bright red at this point, and it pleases you to see. He clears his throat. “I haven’t lost my virginity yet, okay? I’m too nervous to ask a girl out, but I figure if I just get it out of the way then I won’t be so freaked out. Do you want it or not?”

You grin salaciously. “Do I want your virginity?”

“Yes!”

You hum, stretching out one foot to delicately push at some salt and break the circle, knowing without looking that his heart is racing in fear. “You are aware that virginity does not exist as anything more than a social construct of human beings? There is no biological difference between you and any other.”

Finally, he looks up at you with a frustrated pout. “Look, if you don’t want to, I’ll just banish you or whatever. You don’t have to be an asshole about it.”

“Oh, sweet boy,” you purr, stepping out of the broken ring, prowling towards him slowly as he backs up to the wall, “I never said I didn’t want it. Virginity means nothing for you humans, but for me? An untouched soul is the most delicious of all.” His back thumps softly against his bedroom wall, and you reach your hands up on either side of his face to cage him in. You stare at him intensely. “Have you ever masturbated before?”

He splutters and jerks his head down. “Uh, woah, I… Yes, of course I have. Why do you…?”

“A shame,” you sigh, “but still, I’ll enjoy taking you.”

You notice his gaze is still half-lowered, and when he speaks, his voice is light with confusion. “Um, excuse me for asking, but why are you wearing a school uniform?”

You blink and look down at yourself. Over the past five or so minutes you had completely forgotten about your attire, but Jimin is right. You had always gone over to the Brooks family home in a short plaid skirt and white blouse with shiny black shoes. One gift all succubae were given was the insight into any human’s sexual desires and fantasies, and this particular man had a thing for schoolgirls, so you indulged in order to get closer to him fast.

“Never mind that,” you growl, “it won’t be on for much longer.”

Enjoying the desperate way he gasps and swallows hard, you try to distract yourself from the irritating stirring in your stomach. Thinking back to Mr. Brooks just reminded you of the fact that you had put in all that work and never gotten your reward, as he hadn’t made it to an orgasm before you were pulled away. You would certainly get your fill from this boy tonight.

And speaking of him, you leant forward and slanted your mouth across his, pulling him into a deceptively sweet kiss as your body ran on autopilot. Jimin would get caught up in the kiss, lulled into a false sense of security while you dove into his mind, teasing out all the deepest sexual wants he had that he would never dream of telling anyone. Your victims always tasted so much better when their orgasms were fueled by genuine desire and satisfaction, so it was better to let them drown in their fantasies, rather than simply jerking them off to completion.

As Jimin trembled and whimpered into your mouth, you ran your tongue along his wet muscle, sucking and biting and nibbling as you had done for millennia. You could tell by most of his fantasies that he was unexperienced and a romantic soul; cheesy porn fantasies of getting spanked in detention mingled with dreams of making love under the moonlight. Most of it was sickening and boring to you, but as you deepened the kiss and felt him harden against you, his hands rising up tentatively to bury themselves in your hair, more interesting things came up too. You took note and decided to put them into use tonight. Maybe if you ruined him for all future lovers, he’d become a repeat customer. You could certainly get used to it.

You pulled away once you were done, licking your swollen lips and grinning at his whine as his eyes blinked back open. “Are you ready for me, baby boy?”

He nods feverishly, panting slightly. “Wait, I… I don’t know your name.”

“You can call me whatever you want, but I won’t be giving you my name. Names have power; it’s the only way to choose exactly which demon will come when you summon one.”

He frowns as you reach a hand up and brush his hair away from his face but leans into your touch. “I thought I called for you.”

“You called for a succubus, and I just so happened to be the one that got the call. If you say that incantation again as it is, you’ll most likely get a different demon each time. There are legions of us, baby boy. I’m just your lucky draw.”

He sighs in bliss as you intertwine your hands and lead him to his messy bed, pushing him down onto it so he bounces a little and blinks up at you lustfully. “I’m glad it was you.”

“Don’t speak too soon,” you warn, “we haven’t even started yet.”

“Please, noona,” he whines, “I need you.”

You straddle him languidly, pulling one of his hands up and sucking on his pointer finger, flicking your tongue over the pad teasingly. He chokes out a moan and bites down hard on his lip, shifting his hips in the hopes that his painfully hard erection will gain some friction against your core.

You pull your lips off of him with a pop, breaking the chain of saliva that connects you with your tongue, grinning as he shudders at the sight. “I need you to be very honest with me, Jimin. Can you do that?”

He nods obediently. “Anything.”

“I have two questions. Question one: what sexual activities have you done before? Be specific.”

He clears his throat but answers you anyway, looking sinfully submissive splayed out underneath you, hair forming a small halo around his angelic face. What a divine specimen, you can’t help but think. “I’ve kissed before; with tongue once, too. Uh, I’ve masturbated before. That’s really it.”

You nod and brush your hand against his cheek with a warm smile, relishing in the way he nuzzles against it. “Good job, my sweet boy. My last question:” you lean forward on him, ignoring the groan he lets out as you brush against his crotch, and nibble gently on his earlobe as you continue petting the other side of his face. “What do you want me to do to you?”

He whines. “Please, I… Anything, noona. I’ll let you do anything.”

Your core lights up at the thought, but you tug a little rougher on the lobe of his ear. “Use your words, Jiminie. Be more specific.”

When you sit up enough to be able to see the lust in his eyes, you grin salaciously at him and await his answer. He swallows hard. “I want you to use me. I want you to…fuck me.”

“You want me to ride you?” you ask, although you’re well aware it’s not what he means.

He shakes his head, whimpering slightly. “No, I want you to really fuck me.”

You give him a sweet peck as a reward, licking over the seam of his full lips. “But I don’t have a cock, Jimin. How am I supposed to fuck you?”

He swears lowly his in his throat. “Fuck, I don’t…With your fingers. Anything.” He licks his lips, voice dropping to a desperate whisper. “Please.”

You hum in satisfaction and stand up off of him, hearing him sigh in disappointment, his pelvis shifting on the mattress in dissatisfaction. He lifts his head up off the bed to watch you as you keep talking, slowly undressing yourself in front of him. Of course, you could dematerialize your clothes and be naked in an instant considering they were an illusion you manifested for Mr. Brooks anyway, but there’s no fun in that. “Come on, then, honey,” you say sultrily, “I can’t fuck you with your clothes on.”

He jumps up and frantically strips his socks, then wiggles out of his overalls. He’s so focused on obeying your orders that by the time he stops, completely naked with his member smearing pre-cum on his abdomen, he’s missed your little strip-tease.

Now both showing nothing but skin, you can see how his mind is starting to overheat with the pressure of it finally happening. You sigh and step forward to get onto the bed, cross-legged and leaning back on your hands so that you’re fully bare to him. He follows you with his hot gaze, eyes blown with lust. “You aren’t getting cold feet, are you, baby boy?”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, noona. I want this.”

You crook a finger at him. “C’mere.”

He exhales shakily, but he’s harder than ever, the tip almost purple with the amount of blood that has rushed to it.

“Lie back.” He does as you say, and you straddle him again. “Now, I’m going to give you what you want since you asked so nicely, but I think I deserve a little pleasure too, wouldn’t you agree?”

Jimin whines his agreement.

You grin at him, raising your hips so that your folds just touch the underside of his cock, causing him to give a violent shudder and swear slightly under his breath. “So I’m going to fuck myself on your cock while I fuck you. Is that fair?” He nods, eyes fixated on the sight of your pussy just barely touching him. “So, do you have lube?”

He blinks, breaking his heavy stare, and looks up at you. “Sorry, what? Uh, no.”

You frown in fake disappointment. “Well, I can’t fuck you with my fingers if you’ve got no lube.”

“Oh.” Jimin’s face crumples slightly and he bites his lip as he glances around the room. “We could use…uh…”

You reach down and pat his dick a couple times teasingly, feeling his thighs tense up underneath you. “Just kidding, baby boy. It wouldn’t be very professional of me if I didn’t come prepared.”

Waiting until he’s watching you again, you plunge two fingers into your pussy, collecting enough of your juices to coat your fingers. A perk of the job is that your body is always ready to go.

“Oh, god Fuck, that’s hot.” His head tips back but his eyes stay on you as you readjust yourself, sitting flush against his left thigh as you lift his right leg. He licks his lips at the feeling of your wetness against his thigh and clenches his muscles experimentally. The flood of pleasure catches you off-guard and you curl up, bracing yourself with a hand on his chest.

For the first time in the evening, you see a hint of some dominating tendencies with the evil grin he sends you as he relaxes, only to do it again, pairing it with a push up. You moan at the feeling and laugh shakily. “Kitty’s got some claws, after all. Alright, if you enjoy it so much, I’ll just stay here instead of sitting on your cock. Hm?”

“No,” he whines in frustration, pouting and dropping his teasing demeanor.

“Sorry, Jiminie. You had your chance. It’s too late now.” Your slip your fingers, still sticky and glossy with your arousal, down to massage his tight rim. He jumps and the muscles tighten, but you keep working at it with a firm touch, distracting him with the weakest, laziest of hand jobs as you go. Not like he’d know any better, and you didn’t want him cumming too soon. Finally, you manage to get finger in, and once it passes that initial grip, it plunges down, tearing a surprised groan from the boy.

You slowly begin to shallowly thrust, twisting and wriggling your digit until he jerks underneath you and cries out. You grin, and continue to press against his prostate, relishing the beautiful sounds it pulls from him.

“Oh, oh, it’s so good, oh my god,” he chants sweet nothings over and over, eyes clenched shut and completely overcome. Once you slightly tighten your grip around his cock and introduce your second finger into him, he begins panting noisily, whimpering every time you twist your wrist around his sensitive head.

Normally the build-up bores you when it came to most sexual acts, these included, but you find yourself getting drunk on the bliss on his face, wanting nothing more than to lean down and kiss him. No, you tell yourself, at least get him to cum first. It’s why you’re both here, after all.

It takes barely ten minutes to get him consistently crying out at every thrust. You speed up your pace on both fronts and Jimin writhes uncontrollably beneath you.

“Oh, I’m gonna… ah, ah…”

You let out a sadistic laugh. “You know what, baby boy?” He’s too far gone to answer you, but you hold him on the edge as he’s overtaken by sensation. “I’ve changed my mind; I do want to sit on your cock. Will you let me ride you, Jimin?”

You slow down enough to keep his orgasm at bay and he growls in frustration. “Fuck! Yes, okay, just make me cum. Please, noonaaaa.”

You grin salaciously and speed up. Soon enough, his movements still completely for a moment and then he falls over the edge, spurting cum all up his chest and neck. You grin at the sight, and work him through it, only slowing down once he’s spent.

He looks up at you in a hazy bliss, brows furrowed in confusion. “I thought you said…”

His cock isn’t soft yet, and you straddle him fully again, wasting no time before you spear yourself on his cock, immediately riding him like your life depended on it.

“Ah!” He screams and bats his hands at you weakly, trying to cringe away from the assault. “No, it’s too much! I can’t take it!”

“You will take it,” you command gruffly, feeling his cock remain reluctantly hard, dragging deliciously inside of you. “I’m still hungry.”

“Fu-uck,” he whines, “please, no, I’ll do anything.”

You sigh contentedly at the sounds of his cries as you work yourself to the edge. It was rare that a man had a fetish for receiving overstimulation; the trait was much more common in women, you found. So, when you had kissed him before and felt that desire, you knew you had to take your chance. It was occasional that people had fetishes for things they actually didn’t like in practice, but as Jimin’s teary cries turned to shocked moans, like he couldn’t believe it was feeling good again, you knew he really did want it.

“Come on, baby boy,” you pant out, “I want another.”

He sobs, hair sticking to his temples, and his hands gripping tightly on your hips in an effort to stop you. “No, I can’t, I’m going to pass out, it’s too much.”

“Pass out, then,” you taunt, I’m not getting off this sweet little cock of yours until I cum on it.”

He whines, but clearly deep inside he still has some brainpower left, for one of his hands leaves its bruising grip on your hipbone and reaches down, swiping at the front of your pussy until he finds your clit, rubbing feverishly at the sensitive bud until you’re almost at the edge.

At this point, though you’re sure he’s not even aware of it, his hips have begun rutting up against you, so you hold your climax back long enough that he returns again to the brink of orgasm, Jimin letting out an overwhelmed cry with every unconscious thrust.

He screams when he cums, and the delightful sound pushes you over the edge finally. You bat his hand away and work your clit until your finished, having mercy on his oversensitive dick.

You pull yourself off of him, feeling him fall out of you, his cock softening almost instantly on his stomach. The two of you are covered in the mess of it all, so you take the time while he’s in subspace to make your way around his small apartment, still naked, in the search of a towel or at least several tissues.

Returning with some baby wipes you found in a bathroom, you clean yourself and then him, being careful to avoid his sensitive cock as much as possible, and then you get dressed, finally sitting cross legged on the bed beside him.

You run a hand through his hair. “Are you still with me, Jiminie? Can you hear me?”

He blinks out of his daze and focuses on you above him, licking his lips and nodding slowly. After a few moments of your gentle coaxing, he sits up and drinks the glass of water you also prepared for him and then gets dressed himself, in a pair of sweatpants and a shirt instead of the clothes he originally had on.

He finishes his glass and runs a hand through his hair, staring at you in confusion. “Why… why are you being so nice to me?” he finally asks.

“I may be a demon, but I’m not an asshole,” you joke.

He sighs out blissfully. “God, that was incredible,” he confesses, “way better than I imagined it could be.”

You smile proudly and go to reply, but a sneeze stops you in your tracks. You were staring right at Jimin so you know the noise didn’t come from either of you.

Jimin isn’t as confused as you, he just huffs out angrily and stands up, walking over to his closet and throwing the door open. “What the fuck, Jungkook?”

You blink. In the closet, with a sweaty face and a lazy grin, is another boy, around the same age as Jimin, sitting on the floor amongst a pile of clothes. You try not to look at the pile of wet tissues scrunched up in his hands. You could’ve used that, you think, feeling the same disappointment a human feels when someone else enjoys the last slice of pizza instead of them. What a waste.

“What?” the boy defends, not a hint of remorse on his face. “I found the ritual online, I figured you owed me.”

“By watching me lose my virginity?” Jimin screeches.

“If you think I gave a shit what you were doing, you’d be wrong, bro.” He turns to you with a cheesy bow. “Ma’am, if I may say so, you have beautiful tits.”

You stare at him for a moment, then laugh contentedly. Just like humans, sex demons tended to get a little hangry, and you were pleased to finally be enjoying the satisfaction of a decent meal to raise your mood.

You glance back at Jimin, looking between the two boys. “My name is Y/n,” you reveal, “next time either of you are in the mood, replace the last line of the incantation with my name, and I’ll come. Hopefully in both meanings of the word.”

The boy called Jungkook sighs dreamily. “I think I’m in love.”

[lady-dimitrescus-loving-wife]

Monoma Neito x Reader || I Got You Now

🍋👀🕸

Sorry if it’s messy... I’ll be doing newest requests to oldest ones so forgive me for taking a while. Requests are still closed though you scums.

Includes: non-con, breeding, marking, past trauma, mental abuse, rough sex, manipulation, black mail

-

She searched frantically sneaking around looking through everyone’s things as well as her own. She lost the note. A love letter she wrote to be exact..

She whimper standing in the empty class room ruffling her hair in frustration, she had a huge crush on the class president. There was just something so lovely about him but he was so hard to get to emotionally wise. So Midoriya suggested she wrote to him.

It was silly very much so but she put a lot into that note and now it was gone. She hoped no one head found it and brought it to him themselves because now she was regretting it.

When a few knocks filled her ears she jumped before looking at the open door of the classroom seeing a blond from one of the other classes. She didn’t necessarily know him but she knew he could be a jerk and she couldn’t help but sneer at him to which he smirked eyes filling with something a little scary.

“Yes? What do you want?”

She huffed and Neito grinned stepping into the classroom holding up a envelope, a rather familiar envelope might she had.

It hit her hard, that was hers and he had it. Her hostile tone turned into a softer, more desperate one rather quickly. She didn’t want to seem weak but she couldn’t allow him to look at it. It was still sealed shut, that was good enough.

“Ah, (y/n)! Let’s make a deal, okay?”

She stepped away from the desk she had been at and stepped in his direction. She didn’t have much time, the class were currently training in the fields and it wouldn’t take long to notice that she was gone.

However she shuddered at the smile he gave her as he lowered his hand that held the letter putting it into his back pocket.

“What kind of deal?”

She asked, determination in her eyes. He had to stop himself from acting so quickly but oh how he was going to ruin that look. He was going to break her, how dare his future wife write letters to other men..he furrowed his eyebrows trying not to get angry as he stepped into the room some more before walking over to her closing the door beforehand.

And that male Iida as well? Well at least Neito didn’t really have a problem with him, however had it been Bakugou or maybe Todoroki he’d have to beat her for a while.

He let out a dramatic sigh at his thoughts as he stood before her standing taller than her as well.

“Well, turn around and bend over for me and I’ll keep this letter a little secret.”

He hummed leaning in, his words climbing into her ears making her shudder before gasping. She pushed him away anger on her features this time.

“What the hell you pervert! I will not do that-“

Neito grinned covering her mouth rather firmly to shut her up. As she struggled to get away from it only to end up getting pushed down on one of the desk him sliding in between her legs as her skirt slid up her thighs. She struggled, on his pushing on his chest as strong as she could the other trying to pull his hand away. He was so strong though.

He towered over her, the room dark with only the afternoon sun lighting it up as he looked down at her surprised face then down her body to her skirt looking at the cute panties she wore. He cooed at them wishing to rip them off with his teeth already and eat her out like a starved man.

It was fine though, maybe later.

“Look, it’s ok I’ll be gentle.”

He hummed removing his hand and kissed her hard the second she tried to scream. His tongue shooting down her throat purring at the gagging sounds she let slip. Her hands pushing harder on his chest, he was fine with it at first..even thought it was cute but now it was starting to annoy him. He grapped her wrist tightly, enough that there’d possibly be a bruise later.

He didn’t have much time anyway, not to mention she was the perfect victim. She had a lot of dirt on her. She wasn’t as happy and carefree as she seemed, she came from a broken home, her siblings were villains, she sold herself multiple times for money. He knew she was the one when he had first seen her, the girl he wanted to take good care of and keep hidden away from the cruel world forever.

It took him a while to get the information he needed oh yes but there’s nothing he couldn’t do. He especially hand fun killing off all those men

She wiggled under him more and more, it was getting harder to breathe and he pushed against her pressing their fronts together with earnest allowing her to feel the semi hard member in his pants making her gasp and choke up.

Flashbacks flooding her head. So many times she had to give herself up and it was starting to come back to her. She didn’t even realize she was crying until she brokenly sniffled and he pulled away kissing her cheek.

The gentleness of it scaring her before he hummed against her flesh.

“It’s ok, I got rid of them a while ago. I’ll protect you, I’ll keep you safe. Just stay by me.”

He spoke softly and she sniffles against him some more before noticing what he had said. He got rid of them? How so?

-

He had been walking home irritated already. His hands stuffed in his pants pockets and mouth turned in a rather strong frown. No one noticed it though, he hid it most of the time but he really liked her but he didn’t know how to approach her.

He turned the corner passing an alleyway ignoring the voices at first.

“God I miss that girl, her pussy was so tight. Think she was a virgin?”

One asked the other and Neito’s pace started to slow to the point he was standing by the wall listening in.

“Who cares, let’s find her again soon. That way she cried as she choked on my cock? Oh fuck it was hot.”

He turned around before stepping into the alleyway immediately catching their attention. They growled at being disturbed by some brat and approached him. Yelling at him to leave or they’d hurt him to. It was disgusting, men were pigs and he was honestly glad he had found them. In the research he had been doing of (Y/n) it never stated who took her but he felt like this was it.

These were definitely the guys. In any other situation he would have continued to ignore it, would have walked home and got something to eat but Y/n was important to him. Really. Important. And he refused to let them live after the things they had did and caused to her.

He was getting angrier just thinking about it and he couldn’t control himself as everything started to fade.

When he came back to he was covered in blood, clothes soaked in it as their dead bodies laid beneath him in piles. He wasn’t even surprised but did feel happier in a way.

He then quickly went home leaving them their as a warning to any others that had the audacity to hurt his y/n.

-

Neito nuzzled her neck as his hand carefully squeezed her thigh before moving to cup her pussy as she let out a startled gasp wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He stopped for a second surprised that she had been a little wet, he didn’t waste too much time though as he moved his fingers up until they grazed over her clit watching as she whimpered against him but didn’t stop clinging to him perhaps due to the heat of the moment.

Or perhaps she really did want him. He smiled lightly at the thought as his hand left her to go to his pants, he tugged them down his hips showing the toned v-line and hips as his cock stood, precum gathering on the top. She whimpered and he hummed rubbing her shaking body with his other hand.

“It’s ok, I’m here. Don’t cry y/n, I got you now. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore.”

He whispered softly to her as he pulled her pants to the side smiling as she shivered at the cool air that ran over her clit before he pressed against her again. The weight and heat of his throbbing cock making her blush deeply as he shushed her soft sobs. Her thoughts of Iida disappearing as Neito kissed her again, softer this time.

She was still scared, very much so as he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth to the front kissing her more as he rolled his hip, his cock carefully gliding between her wet folds as she lightly moaned into his mouth that moan getting loud and high as he slipped in hugging her hips to his.

He shuddered a wide grin finding him as he nipped her lips causing blood making her gasp again as he pulled back to psh back in. She was tight around him and so warm, it took everything in him not to push her down and use her as a fuck toy. No she was better than that, he couldn’t use her like that right now. She was being a good girl there was no need to punish her.

He started slow until she was arching moaning out for him. His hips smacking loudly against her own as he filled her, a bulge showing in her stomach as he groaned against her pulling away to look at where they connected. His hands gripping her hips as he fucked her open.

“S-Say my name.”

He growled looking down at her as she drooled, eyes hazy and cheeks burning a dark crimson as her legs wrapped around him. She whimpered as he slowed down glaring now. She couldn’t remember.

She shook her head and he sent a harsh slam, his hips rolling firmly as he rutted into her walls causing her to cry out and arch heavily.

“P-please! I-I don’t remember!”

She begged and he picked her up, his hands under her ass as he bounced her on his cock. Her hair bouncing as he gripped her tightly so she couldn’t squirm away. His orgasm approaching.

“You better think or I’m gonna cum in you..”

He warned and her eyes got wide with fear, no. No, no, no! She couldn’t take care of a baby, not now!

She rummaged through her memories pushing on him as she yelped and squeaked each time his cock tickled her g-spot, groans and grunts leaving him signaling his orgasm. She was desperate begging him not to, begging him not to coat her wet twitching walls with his thick stick cum but all he did was smirk and go hard fucking up into her with just that intention.

Suddenly it hit her.

“Mono-AH!~”

She tossed her head back as he came, the pleasurable sound from him being a deep rumble from his chest as he shot his load filling her, her own orgasm making her see white as her thigh shook and twitched around her, her legs loosening but he didn’t mind holding her closer.

He pushed her back down holding her wrist as he pushed against her keeping her hips up letting the cum drip deeper into her.

“Ah, so close yet so far wouldn’t you say, babygirl?”

He taunted with a dark wide grin as tears ran down her cheeks in heavy streams as she looked up at him. She couldn’t stop crying, her body weak making it hard for her to struggle as he leaned down and kissed her one last time, his cock still buried deep.

“Our children will be beautiful, you’re so precious darling.”

He chuckled before taking his time leave dark marks on her neck showing who she belonged to now. He loved her so much, he had been watching the second she stepped into UA, he spent so much time learning her and protecting her.

“I’ll help you because I just love you so much.”

He smiled leaning up not bothering to shush her crying, he knew she wouldn’t stop so soon but he also loved the sound of pain within it.

“I love you so much y/n. Now you can’t escape me.”

He carefully pulled out tucking himself back into his pants before pressing a kiss to her stomach.

Nine months.

She dreaded it.

He pulled away putting her pants back where they were before he came leaving her to lay on to table as he turned away taking the letter out his pocket and ripping it up humming softly before dropping the pieces into the trash can. He looked back at her with a soft look.

“I must go, I’ll check on you later. Stay safe darling..don’t try to run away either. I’ll know if you do.”

He hummed before leaving the classroom grinning at the sound of her whining for him, sinking to the floor. She was broken and he was the only one allowed to put her back together now.

He lived for this.

[natsspammityspamspamham]

Dino Watches Anime (Nov 28)

Obviously, I’m not going to list the ongoing anime that I’ve still watching as that hasn’t changed much. I will put the ones that I recently completed though!

Recently Completed!

Youkoso Jitsuryoku Shijou Shugi no Kyoushitsu e

I was going to put this in chronological order until I realized that I just wanted to get this piece of crap out of the way. Seriously, I regret watching this show. I HATE how it’s the highest rated out of all of them! It’s almost an 8/10! I gave it a 4! Here’s why:

This anime started out okay. I liked the sound of its premise. I liked the idea of teenage psychology being pushed but not as life-or-death but more of status. Because believe it or not, sometimes a person values their image and status more than their life. That plot was... kind of there? I don’t know. It was mostly boobs and ass. Those jiggle physics don’t stop here. They make sure to remind you that every character in this anime has large assets and asses every two seconds. 

The characters are probably the most deplorable part of this show. They were so bad. Seriously, we just took the worst parts of every trope and threw them together! The “I don’t talk to anyone. I don’t have any friends. I’m EDGY and don’t belong here. I’m this close to selling myself to Orochimaru for power”, the “cardboard houseplant that’s so monotone that it hurts”, the “double-sided dipstick that will take out a person’s intestines and use them as a jump rope”, and the “arrogant older brother who is way more accomplished than his sister”. We also have more assorted bastards, but those are the main ones. The characters ruined everything. Their interactions were so coarse, forced, hard to watch, and everything is executed so poorly that it made me wonder whether people rated this for ulterior motives or not. Everyone here is an asshole. 

Let’s look at the first three characters:

“cardboard houseplant that’s so monotone that it hurts” - Shoya Chiba isn’t even a bad voice actor. He does give me Hiroshi Kamiya vibes though (not a bad thing), but his voice acting in this show was hard to listen to because his expression didn’t change and neither did his voice. Seriously, over 12 episodes, he has that same expression. Someone threatened to harm him, and he’s still looking like a dead fish. I can’t describe how much worse it is to have a main character whose facial muscles don’t move. He has no personality.

“I don’t talk to anyone. I don’t have any friends. I’m EDGY and don’t belong here. I’m this close to selling myself to Orochimaru for power” - I like her design, but what else is going for her? How many times does she need to say, “I don’t need friends. I just want to move up in school.” Bitch, I get it. You can calm down. You keep doing things for other people but you say you don’t care? She arguably gets the most growth. Akari Kito voiced her and it was just like how any other person on earth would voice this character. 

“double-sided dipstick that will take out a person’s intestines and use them as a jump rope” - She’s exactly what she sounds like. She’s in that gif. She’s sweet and nice until you catch her being not that. Yurika Kubo did a pretty alright job voicing her. Nothing really to say here besides I hated her with a burning passion.

Music was alright. Animation was... Lerche standard. Nothing special. It looks nice until you are flashed so many times that you can’t tell what this show is even about anymore.

This is one of the worst shows I’ve watched in a while. It wastes a perfectly good premise and voice cast.

Kekkaishi

2006 was a good year for anime, and this probably got swept over because Code Geass took the fall season by storm. But this anime was genuinely good. I wanted a good shonen/comedy with action and this filled that void and more. I even read some of the manga before realizing that I just don’t like reading manga that much.

I genuinely like the cast of characters and find them amusing. I also like how they incorporate a stay-at-home dad who wears an apron and no one judges him because it’s what they see as normal. We have a female character whose not being sexualized every few seconds. Sunrise did cheat a little with other female characters though because the manga made their proportions okay while the anime decided to make them look more like a Barbie rather than a human. The animation was pretty okay too. For 52 episodes, it did some pretty okay stuff but with today’s technology, it’s probably not as “wow” as it was back in the day.

I’m just mad that they developed a character only to kill him a couple of episodes later. That’s sad. 

The soundtrack was pretty standard, but I was impressed by the fact that I liked the voice acting. I originally wasn’t as much of a fan of Hiroyuki Yoshino’s works because I found his voice annoying, but when he finds the right character (like Yoshimori or Eraser Mic), he works really well. It’s unfortunate that a lot of the main cast aren’t as prolific as they once were, but I guess that’s life.

No one was hurt in the making of that gif. 

I rated this a 9/10 because it was for pure enjoyment. I didn’t have this much fun watching an anime in a while. This is the anime that got me binge-watching again.

Nobunaga Concerto

This anime has a blaring problem. It’s not the story, it’s not the writing, it’s not the characters, and it’s not the music. It’s the art. Watch any clip and it will give some Berserk flashbacks.

The writing was pretty good too. The story was genuinely interesting, but in the end, it didn’t feel like it did enough. It didn’t cover enough. The dialogue and the incorporation of modern culture with the historic parts were smart. Saburou was really likeable and oddly adaptive. The characters around him (the historic ones) are pretty cut and dry. The music was pretty good too! The art and lack of adaptation are the only things truly holding this show back.

Mamoru Miyano plays the main character and obviously makes him charming and funny, Yuki Kaji plays Nobunaga Oda, and Nana Mizuki plays Oda’s betrothed. I actually didn’t know anything about Oda’s tale prior to this anime so don’t think that’s required. 

I rated it a 7/10

*Another important note is that they get suddenly racist in the last episode. A black guy appears, and people scream that it’s a monkey like they’ve never seen a darker-skinned human before. It was honestly disappointing.

Ookami-san to Shichinin no Nakama-tachi

Okay, this anime surprised me because of how much I liked it. It wasn’t even anything special. They took the same JC Staff rom-com tropes and put them into another anime combined with some fairy tale lore. But this anime was so entertaining and charming with its cast that I genuinely didn’t hate any of the characters. There were a few moments that made me go, “okay, that’s a bit too much”, but a girl going around punching people with neko boxing gloves? That’s pretty cool. Ookami was a really funny character who I actually found a bit interesting which is weird for a story that’s supposed to be superficial and comedic. Ryoushi is practically a spitting image of my anxiety and personality but in a charming way? He has some cool moments. He’s almost a little like Zenitsu. Courageous when push comes to shove but he’s actually awake. Ringo was the innocent loli until she wasn’t because if you mess with her friend, she will poison you. Again, they made these references to regular rom-com anime and fairy tales that completely roll together nicely. JC Staff didn’t mess this one up, and as always, there’s a tsundere Rie Kugimiya role in there somewhere. 

Because I enjoyed it so much, I gave it a 9/10.

Inari, Konkon, Koi Iroha

I literally finished this one an hour ago, read the last chapter of the manga, and went “what the heck?” Because... I enjoyed this, but I also didn’t? Bitter-sweetness at its best. Houko Kuwashima is a really underrated voice actress because she hasn’t taken that many big roles as of recent, but she has incredible range. The characters of this are incredibly plain, but I don’t mind that because they aren’t painful to watch unlike the first anime I mentioned (seriously, I watched the last three shows on this list to wash that bad anime out of my brain). Everyone in this anime seems to be perfect in one way or another because they don’t really wish ill on anyone. Not gonna lie, characters like that aren’t for everyone because “everyone is a scum at some point in their lives”. I definitely respect for the need of balance. The story is pretty simple and plain and so is the art. The music was nice and pleasant. Basically, it’s a palette-cleanser of an anime after watching some bad anime. It’s about developing middle school romance and this... “teenage” couple on the side. It’s about friendship! And discovering yourself, and yes, one character found out she was gay, and I was rooting for that character so hard only to find out that she didn’t get her conclusive ending. Everyone else gets some bullshit ending one way or another! This is published in the same publication as Bungou Stray Dogs, and I wouldn’t have been able to tell if I didn’t look it up. 

I rated this one an 8/10 because I enjoyed it still despite the ending being a little idealistic, sad, and far-fetched (seriously, someone becomes a god and gets their existence erased). 

[olympivnshq]

congratulations N !  i, for one, am absolutely thrilled to have your EREBUS with us to bring some trouble to the mix. your application was truly a journey to read, and i feel as though you’ve captured the true essence of the character and at the same time, came up with a new and exciting concept for their mortal selves that made me infinitely curious as to where things will head going forth. you’ve been accepted with your first faceclaim choice: IAN SOMERHALDER. 

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ  OOC INFO.

hello i’m nina, or otherwise famously known as voldemort, n, or… whatever you want really. she/her. gmt gang. 

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ  DEITY  —  GENDER. AGE RANGE.

EREBUS  —  MALE. 31 - 38.  is this a big age range? yes. this is exactly the sort of chaotic dumbass uncooperative energy you shall receive from me.

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ MORTAL NAME. JOB/OCCUPATION. BOROUGH/NEIGHBORHOOD.

AXEL BYRNE. radio jockey, nightshift. greenwich village

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ AESTHETICS.

leather jackets and black jeans, black boots and heavy tissot watch glinting in the faint glow of a streetlamp, dark eyes and pallid gaunt features, silhouette encased in a cloud of cigarrette smoke, chrome fittings on a black motorcycle and black gloves, slashed tyres and red panties left behind in signature, wild dark eyes of an insomniac, bourbon in a dusty bar at dawn, blackout window shutters

☆ﾟ*・ PLAYLIST.

i. through the dark streets they go searching to see god in their own way save the night time for your weeping  //  ii.   you know, you know me i like to be intoxicated  //  iii.  who is the betrayer? who’s the killer in the crowd? the one who creeps in corridors. and doesn’t make a sound.  iv.  prayers are fire on ruined dark night you’re meant to see visions beyond sound and sight

☆ﾟ*・ HOW WOULD YOU PLAY THEM?

EREBUS is an entity profoundly difficult to classify even though on the outset of it, the immediate judgement of what he represents is often instinctual, people know to be afraid of the dark. WHAT IS DARKNESS?  it is the unknown, it is ambiguity, where all things can be hidden — plunged, to suffocate, or immersed to gain clarity. darkness is in fact, everywhere. it is in every crevice, every nook and cranny, it is in the depths of night, at the bottom of the ocean, every inch of the underworld, the empty spaces of the cosmos, every shadow, and even in a certain part of every living being.

darkness can be all-consuming, that creeping blackness that threatens to swallow you whole, and infect everything with melancholy, the imminence of EVIL and the sickness offear. but when sorrow grips one’s heart, when our eyes need rest, it is darkness we welcome, it is darkness that comforts us, darkness that hides us from prying eyes: a refuge for the battered and beaten, an escape that yields neither solutions nor malicious intent. the darkness itself is not evil, it does not judge, it does not try to tip the scales, it’s simply there. a witness to the secrets, the ghosts, the regrets cast into the abyss, for it is the abyss. erebus does not need to engage in extravagant shows of power, nor does he need more than he already has. the vast territory he covers, to him is example enough. unlike his female counterpart and wife nyx, he is not quite quick to anger. where she is a speeding shadowy bullet to the throat, he is a slower creep, prone to lazily swat away only those who choose to test him or tempt his wrath. the way he sees it, he controls everything in his domain. the deities who draw their power from the dark, do so because he exists. light can only be light if there is darkness, it is of his magnanimity that it exists at all.

AXEL is fairly different from erebus, although he retains the core traits of his godly personality. his mortal memories indicate a british father and a french mother ( divorced ), and a generally uneventful upbringing that was split between france and england. his parents could never quite control him, nor was he particularly inclined to immerse himself too deeply in hedonism. his temper was of the effusive sort, deeper than wells and colder than frost, he never needed to scream or intimidate anyone to make his displeasure known. his humour was often dark, occasionally morbid, and he displayed a rather concerning perspective on many things. they blamed it on keeping late hours, an antisocial proclivity, whatever doctors and psychologists could come up with. but there was always a certain quiet — a stillness in its midst in which he had always felt he could hear himself that much more clearly. when he became somehow sharper, more agreeable… able to connect different points to a whole. becoming a radio jockey that served after dark seemed perfect. his voice charmed so very many with its smooth croon with baritones in its undercurrents seeming to emanate from the very shadows, and ended up garnering quite the following, both of night owls, and people abroad. this til today has encroached on his personal life more than he can handle. overzealous fanatics, poor relationship decisions and more personal drama than he would care to admit. part of him wonders if they consume him, or if he seeks them out, shrouding them in some caustic brand of his own. for a person who so desperately craves light in his life, he does so preciously little to harness or keep it.

1. are they more likely to stand with the pantheon or against it?   he’s going to watch the gods first. nyx is quick to judge, and harsh with her power, but erebus is patient. measured. deep. silent. for the most part he has had enough of the petty squabbles. he has had enough of the wilful ignorance. it depends on what ends dismantling the pantheon can provide for he has no love for the olympians.

2. what is their stand on mortals? for a being as old and all-encompassing as erebus — they are insignificant. they occupy this earth these couple millennia and will be gone the next, while he ? he will endure. for now he is content not to involve them in matters beyond their meagre comprehension, but if they become a threat to power, he will elect to silence them, by whatever means necessary.

☆ﾟ*・ SAMPLE PARA (OPTIONAL)

HE SHOULDN’T HAVE COME. the night is younger than he cares for, and the crowd is thick with  scum strangers. his own thoughts are mottled with unfamiliar ( yet he is almost CERTAIN it is born from his own indelible core ) . how quaint. axel won’t be able to tell you why he’s elected to show up. maybe he’s looking for an escape. maybe he had expected to be knocked down and ravished by the sheer gritty reality of it all: going from the jewelled chrysalis of a mundane PARTY, the “best” in the business, to the bustling streets ofMANHATTAN at a more godly hour where where real people led real lives in the real world and did real work for real money. where no one would know what it meant to feel foreign in one’s own narrative, or understand that strange tug at the pits of their being. but something tells him, this too will come with a price. call it instinct. call it a newfound loathing of — what, he can’t really place.

                          he is pushing past them, swerving bodies swathed in — well tonight he doesn’t care to look. feigned smiles toward the women who seize the moment to unexpectedly trip into his chest, hands catching wrists, only to right them on their feet.       ❝     thanks some other time, i’m ah — looking for — actually, you’re just not that pretty.    ❞   polite as can be, but it is resignation that leaks from his pallid features when he feels his foot CRUSHED mercilessly by the underside of a pair of steve maddens.  he moves, lopsided now, towards the bar — already exhausted, and strained from the searing pain in his foot.   ❝      old fashioned. please.  thanks. ❞

[astharoshebarvon]

Winteriron AU

Bucky/Tony 

Pride and Prejudice AU

Steve was still talking with Loki while Bucky was sitting with one of his friends, Falsworth. After a while he saw Loki go back to his brooding friend. 

What was his name Tony Stark? The guy’s name was familiar. He’d learnt Loki and Thor were from Norway. Tony Stark, the guy was really good looking, dashing, handsome….yeah, Bucky stop. He was drop dead gorgeous. But for some reason was scowling. The two didn’t know Bucky and Falsworth were sitting behind them. Bucky gulped down his beer and ordered another for him and Falsworth.

“He is so beautiful Tony. I think I am in love with, Steve.” Tony smiled at Loki. “Good for you, buddy. Go back to him.” Loki smiled at him but didn’t leave. “You should enjoy your evening too. Thor is off flirting around with everyone. I don’t know where Hela is.”

Loki stopped for minute. “Scratch that. I don’t want to know where my sister is.” 

Both Tony and Loki flinched as they remembered last time Hela had come with them because of Odin and Frigga. The three men who’d tried to talk to her had left the bar with tears running down their cheeks. Needless to say the trio’s parents didn’t ask Hela to accompany her brothers again.

 What was more, she had threatened to buy the bar if the owner didn’t let Fenris in with her. Thor and Loki had talked her out of it. They hated Fenris. Stupid dog was always causing trouble for them.

“I can buy this damn place like you buy clothes. Do you realise who you are talking to?”

The owner had quickly nodded his assent. He didn’t want to make the lady even more angry. 

Loki shuddered at the memory. He shook his head and looked back at Tony and smiled again. 

“Don’t sit here alone. Steve’s brother, James Barnes is handsome guy. Your type, really. You can talk to him. I know you don’t like dancing all that much... ”

Tony was really not in the mood to do anything. He wanted to go home and sleep. He was tired. But he had to say something to Loki too. He didn’t even remember the guy’s face that well. 

“He is tolerable, I suppose. Not good looking enough for me. ”

  Bucky clenched his hand and ditched his drink and went back to his house. He didn’t want to hear what Stark had to say anymore. He knew he wasn’t as good looking as Steve but he was better than tolerable.

Steve ruffled Bucky’s hair and and kissed his forehead. Bucky smiled contently and let his brother spoil him.

“I can’t believe he said that about you, Buck. You are beautiful. No one can deny that. And if someone does…well, they are stupid. Tony is a fool.”

Bucky leaned into Steve and sighed. “Eh, you are the beauty. Handsome, dashing, beautiful Steve.” 

Steve shook his head and ruffled Bucky’s hair again. Bucky was content to remain by his brother’s side.

“Forget Stark. Tell me, what did you and Loki talk about?”

“I don’t understand,” Bucky said. “I love you, Bucky. Very much.”

Bucky reeled back as Tony confessed his love for him. Tony- Tony loved...him. Those lingering touches, gazes…..Bucky shook his head. He’d himself wanted to hold Tony sometimes too but… No. he also knew what Tony had done to Steve. He won’t forgive him for that. Never. 

He’d also hurt Tiberius for no reason.

Bucky controlled himself and looked at Tony with no emotion.

“I am sorry that your feelings for me have caused you such pain, Mr Stark. Believe me it was unconsciously done. It must’ve been hard to fall for a man so beneath you in every way.”

Tony didn’t know what to say to that. “Is this your reply?  And I never said you were beneath me.”

Bucky shrugged and ignored what Tony had said, “Yes.”

Tony had no idea what was happening. Was this Bucky’s idea of a joke. “Are you laughing at me, Mr Barnes?”

Bucky shook his head. “No.”

Tony gave a nervous laugh, “what? Then….are you rejecting me?”

Bucky shrugged, “I am sure the feelings which you’ve told me have hindered your regard will help you in overcoming it.”

Tony looked heartbroken and Bucky clenched his hand. No. he knew what he had done to Steve. 

“Well, what did I do to garner such hate from you, Mr Barnes?” Tony’s voice was very soft. 

He was wrong. Bucky’s gazes weren’t sweet or affectionate when he’d looked at him. He wished he hadn’t been so tired that first day. He had just given Bucky a fleeting glance at the time. But later when he’d looked at him properly he’d felt his heart was in danger again. Bucky was a very handsome man.  It was a very big statement coming from him. He’d already had one heart surgery before.

When he’d looked at him, Tony had felt happy. He was used to gazes of people but they were always unwanted. But he’d felt very happy when Bucky had looked at him. Now it seems he was looking so that he could find some problem in him. 

  Bucky narrowed his eyes and moved towards Tony. 

“I might ask you the same thing. You told me you liked me against your better judgement, Stark. How am I supposed to take that? You tell me. You are insulting me.” 

Tony shook his head quickly, “no no, believe me. That’s not what I meant…”

Bucky held up his hand and Tony stopped mid-sentence. He flinched internally. 

“But, I have other reasons for rejecting you. You know I have.”

Tony had no idea what Bucky was talking about. “What reasons?”

Bucky came very close to Tony. He really was very beautiful. Too bad, he had hurt Steve and his personality was horrible. 

“Do you think anything might tempt me to accept the man, who has ruined perhaps forever the happiness of my most beloved brother? The one I love most in this world.”

Tony’s eyes widened in horror and he moved back a little. 

  Bucky wanted to shake the man in front of him. Of course he did it. He and Thor had told Loki that Steve couldn’t possibly love him. Colonel Rhodes, Tony’s cousin and best friend had told him that. Of course it was true. 

“Do you deny it, Mr Stark? That you separated my brother and your friend. That you ruined their chance at happiness.”

Tony will not lie. He is not a bloody liar.

“I don’t deny it.” 

Bucky was angry now. “How could you do it?”

“Because I believed your brother to be indifferent.”

Bucky wanted to laugh at that, “indifferent?” What the hell was Stark talking about? Steve loved Loki.

“I watched them both and I realised Loki’s feelings for your brother were much deeper than Steve’s ever could be.”

“My brother is shy. Steve hardly shows his true feelings to me, Mr Stark.” Steve had actually cried after his last talk with Loki.

Tony shook his head. “Loki is no people’s person either. He is shy too. When I told him this is what I got from their interactions he agreed with me and Thor.”

Bucky gritted his teeth, “because you suggested it.”

Tony was getting a little angry. Bucky was making it sound like Loki was an idiot or something. That if Tony and Thor will tell him to jump, he will, without using his own brain.

“I did it for his own good. I didn’t want my friend to marry someone who didn’t love him as much as he did.” 

Bucky sneered at Tony. “No, it was also because Loki is royalty, like you. Steve and I are nothing.”

Tony was angry and upset now. Bucky was taking everything he’d said in wrong way. 

“I didn’t suggest any such thing. All I told him was to be careful. You’ll forgive me because many people have tried to trap Loki before. And believe me, you don’t want to know what Thor did to them Or what their elder sister did to them.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at Tony. But what he said next literally broke Tony. 

“What about Tiberius? What excuse are you going to give for your actions towards him?”

Tony felt earth move under him. Tiberius…Ty….

Bucky was going to take that monster’s side.

“Mr Stone? You take an eager interest in that man’s affairs.” Tony knew this time his voice was accusatory. What the hell did Bucky know about Tiberius anyway?

Bucky sneered at Tony. “Anyone would. You ruined him. You ruined his chances at a good life.”

Tony smiled bitterly, “yeah, I am sure his misfortunes have been very great indeed.”  That son of a bitch. What lies had he told these people? He knew it was a bad sign when he saw him in that bar, for first time in many years. 

What lies had Ty told to Bucky and the others…?

Bucky’s eyes widened at that. Tony was laughing at the man. After he’d treated Ty so poorly.

“You ruined him and now you are treating him with sarcasm. You are something else, Stark.” Tony wanted to cry but schooled his features. He had literally exposed his very soul to Bucky. He won’t give the man more chances to hurt him. 

“This is what you think of me? Perhaps you wouldn’t have been so angry if your pride hadn’t been hurt by my honest confession.” 

Tony didn’t back now. He might’ve been wrong about Steve but Ty… He was not going to let that go. That monster…

“My pride?”  Bucky moved towards Tony. He wanted to throttle the unfairly good looking man in front of him. He literally had half a mind to slap himself. He was still noticing how good looking Stark was. What was wrong with him?   

“Yes. Do you expect me to rejoice in our circumstances?”   Bucky stepped back a little and when he spoke his voice was colder than ice.  

“And, those are the words of a good human being? You’ve been like this from the very beginning, Stark. Your arrogance, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realise long ago that you are the last man in this world I would ever want to date, let alone marry, Stark. I would rather live alone and die than to be with an arrogant asshole like you.”

Tony recoiled as if Bucky had slapped him. Tears gathered in his eyes and dropped down his cheeks. Bucky has already pulled his heart out and crushed it. Bucky has already driven a sword through his heart. He cannot hurt him anymore. No one can. The only man he loved thinks he’s scum of the earth. This is what he had saved himself for. He’d never been with anyone. He’d wanted to be with his one true love. 

“Forgive me, Mr Barnes. For taking up so much of your time.” He knows his voice is breaking.

He turns and walks back to the clearing. As soon as there is distance between them he runs to the road where his car is parked. He keeps on crying until he reaches his hotel.

Bucky covers his face with hands. “Shit. What did I do?”

He gets a letter a week later. Steve is painting something and hadn’t bothered to open the door. 

He reads his name on the letter and his brows furrow in confusion. Who sends a fucking letter these days?

He sees the sender and he has the sudden urge to throw the fucking letter in garbage. He takes a deep breath and goes back to his room.  He opens the drawer and chucks the letter inside. 

A week later he decides to read the fucking thing. Maybe it’ll give him more fuel to hate the idiot. Steve was out with Clint, Natasha, Sam and Maria. Nick and Coulson were in their office. No one would disturb him today. 

He opened the letter and snorted. Of course, even his handwriting was fucking beautiful. 

To James Buchanan Barnes

I am not going to renew the sentiments which were so…disgusting to you. But I would like to clear some things. Mr Stone’s father was a good friend of my parents. My parents left quite a lot to Tiberius. 

We used to play together when we were kids. We were friends. When he was 18 he demanded the money which was his. I gave it to him. My parents had passed away when I was seventeen years old. 

I learned he gambled that money within weeks. He came by again to ask for more money. I refused him. He again came but this time he did something unforgivable. He declared that he was in love with my sister. She was twenty years old at the time. 

Virginia was naïve enough to think he wanted to marry her for herself. Her share is equal to mine. When Tiberius realised he won’t get a single penny out of her inheritance he left her. 

I will not try to convey the depth of Virginia’s grief. She became extremely cold to everyone excluding me and Jarvis’s family. 

As for the matter of your brother, the things I did may seem cruel to you, but they were done in service of a friend. Me and Thor have seen Loki go through a lot. We didn’t want him to feel that way again. He is Thor’s little brother and he may as well be my brother too. I am genuinely sorry for what I did to Steve. 

Anthony Edward Stark

Bucky didn’t realise he was crying. 

Bucky had read the letter enough times that he knew every sentence by heart.

Steve literally pushed him to go with their long distance cousins, the Maximoffs. Wanda and Pietro took Bucky with them to Italy. 

“Something is bothering you, Buck. I don’t know what and I won’t force you to tell me. But, you need to leave your room. I know you’ve been crying in your room too. I could hear you. I know you will tell me when you want to. But for now. Go.”

Bucky didn’t have the heart to tell Steve anything. Maybe he will once he comes back. 

His brother will be angry with him. He’d told Bucky to be wary of Tiberius from the very beginning. But Bucky hadn’t listened.

Bucky didn’t want to go to Stark estate. He was the last person who should be going there. He had accused Tony of things the man hadn’t even done. Maybe Tony was right in a way. He was angry that Tony had hurt his pride.

“I don’t care. I don’t care what people will say. Bucky I -I love you. You are it for me.”

Bucky closed his eyes. 

Wanda wanted to go because she was dating, Johan, who was the son of Ana Jarvis and Edwin Jarvis. Yeah, Bucky figured out who the Jarvis’s were.

The estate was beautiful. Wanda and Pietro had wandered off on their own. 

Bucky went towards the lake but stopped when he saw a woman already sitting there. She was feeding the ducks. He was about to go back when he noticed two men who came out of the clearing. His heart clenched as he noticed one of them was Tony. He went to the woman by the lake and hugged her. 

Her eyes brightened when she saw Tony. But when she saw the man behind Tony she practically ran towards him. The man gathered the woman in her arms and kissed her forehead. Tony looked fondly at them and moved in his direction. Their eyes met and Bucky ran back towards the house. 

He stopped to catch his breath but realised his efforts were in vain. Tony was behind him. 

He turned and was not surprised to see Tony’s state. He was catching his breath too. Tony looked at him and Bucky’s heart broke. 

Tony’s eyes were dead. There wasn’t anything in them. It was as if something inside Tony had died. He looked defeated. 

Tony tried to control himself. Bucky was at his house. He didn’t know why. He didn’t care. If nothing else they could be acquaintances. He is not going to force his feelings on Bucky. 

He’d told Loki and Thor everything and had apologised too.  He knew Loki was going to try to renew his relationship with Steve. He and Thor were honest with him. Loki hadn’t been angry. He’d blamed himself too.

“I was weak too. It’s not your fault. I should’ve been… ”

Thor shushed Loki by gathering him in his arms.

“No, brother. We all were wrong. Let’s hope Steve will have you back.”

Thor kissed his brother’s forehead.

Hela who was also sitting in the room snorted loudly. 

“Loki, stop moping. If you like this, Steve guy that much, go and get him. Don’t be such a wimp. Admit your mistakes.”

She looked to Thor and snorted again. “This one will spend the rest of his life flirting with anything that moves. At least one of us should settle.” 

She scratched Fenris’s ear and her loyal German Shepherd growled softly. She loved Fenris. He was just too good. Her brothers didn’t agree though. Well, it’s not like she a gave damn about what they both thought anyway. 

He got along with mother and father. Maybe they were just jealous of her darling Fenris.

Thor hmphed but didn’t deny his elder sister’s assessment. He loved everyone. Nothing to be shy about that. He glared daggers at Fenris as Hela continued to pet him. He knew Loki would’ve done the same if he wasn’t feeling so sad. The stupid big dog was out to get them.

Tony usually stayed away from Fenris. Fenris didn’t mind Tony or anyone else. He just disliked Thor and Loki. And Bruce. Yeah can’t forget Bruce. Bruce was such a sweet fellow but the idiot dog had a grudge against him too. 

With Brunnhilde, it was like watching a cat and dog fight. She and Fenris used to have staring matches much to the amusement of Hela.  She was Hela’s business partner. 

  “You are the only one apart from me able to play with, Fenris,” Hela thumped Brunnhilde as she said it. The shorter woman  just rolled her eyes. Hela continued and Thor and Loki glared daggers at Fenris.

“Thor and Loki are just too stupid to understand, Fenris. No wonder they don’t get along.”

Hela continued, “It’s not as if you two handle the business anyway. I do everything. You two do nothing.  And I’ll not be getting married to anyone anyway.”

The three men winced at that. Yeah, Hela thought she was above everyone. She was not interested in menial things like romance. Frigga and Odin had long given up on her in that regard. And in the end if their children were happy they didn’t care even if none of them got married.  

“Whenever you get married to this Steve guy, you and he can adopt a bunch of kids.” She looked at her brothers and smiled for real this time. Thor and even Loki wanted to look outside the window if lightning had struck. She never smiled at them. 

It had happened once before and Loki and Thor had looked outside. Hela had not been amused. Her stupid dog had tried to bite them after that.

She got up and dusted off invisible dust from her clothes. She looked to Tony and sighed too. “You are as bad as my brothers. Same advice for you. If you like this, Barnes do something about it.”

She went away muttering about idiot siblings. Fenris stretched once then he too followed his master out. 

The three men didn’t know what to make of that. Hela had always preferred to be alone. Her favourite past time was mocking everyone. It was very unusual she had given them good advice. Because most of the time she mocked them too.    

“What about you, Tony?” the brother asked in unison.

Tony didn’t realise as tears slipped from his eyes.

“Nothing. I am going to spend my life alone. The man I love hates me. Maybe it is justified. At least my sister and brother in law don’t think I am scum of the earth…”

Thor shook his head vehemently. “No, stop. Don’t say that. We all love you. The Jarvis’s love you. Your parents loved you. Colonel Rhodes loves you. It’s not only your little sister, Virginia and Logan who care about you. We all do.”

Loki disentangled himself from his brother and hugged Tony. 

“You are not a selfish person, Tony. Bucky was wrong. Maybe think about what our sister said. Maybe it’s not hopeless for you. ”

Tony just gave his best friends a watery smile and went back to Italy. 

It was hopeless for him. Steve liked Loki. Bucky couldn’t stand him.

Tony tried to make his voice normal. But he knew too much emotion slipped into it. They both began speaking at the same time.

“How are you?”

“I wouldn’t have come here...”

“I had to come early…”

“I’ll leave...”

Bucky knew he looked like he was about to take off. Tony stepped towards him, hand raised but retracted his hand immediately. Bucky saw it and this time he felt like dirt. He’d been unnecessarily cruel to Tony. 

“Yeah…yeah. You should. Why would you even want to stay…?”

Tony wanted to die. Hadn’t he humiliated himself enough in front of Bucky? He didn’t want to become even more of a laughing stock than he already was in Bucky’s eyes. 

Bucky steeled himself. He was not that monstrous. Tony looked like he was in physical pain. He’d looked so happy with his sister and whoever was that man. He knew who it was. He wasn’t that dumb. The man must be her boyfriend/husband. The woman must’ve been Virginia.

  He slowly moved toward Tony. Tony noticed that and instantly moved back. 

Tony cringed as he registered what he had done unconsciously.

Bucky froze as if he had been slapped. Was Tony thinking he will say something even more awful to him than he already had? He realised this time he was minutes away from crying. He’d never felt such agonising pain in his heart as he had at the time he’d read that letter and what he was feeling now. Never. It was guilt, remorse…and something he didn’t want to name. He had squashed whatever that was when he’d learned about Loki and Steve. 

“I am sorry. I-I didn’t know anything and I …”

Words failed Bucky and Tony who’d looked bad before now looked lost. Bucky closed his eyes and ran from there. 

There was nothing he could say.

Tony went back to his house on shaky legs. Ana told him Wanda, Pietro and a man by the name of Bucky Barnes had come to visit. Tony went to Johan’s room and they went together to invite his girlfriend and cousin for dinner. 

Logan and Virginia had encouraged him to go too. 

“If nothing else, you can at least be polite to each other,” Logan ruffled Tony’s hair.

His sister smiled at him and nodded as well.

“Logan is right, Tony. You should go.” Then she chuckled to herself.

“I can’t believe I was so entranced by ducklings that I didn’t notice someone was there.”

Tony shook his head, “no, that’s alright sister.”

Alrighty, another AU. I love pride and prejudice and I love 2005 movie version of the novel. Will/Elizabeth Swan from POTC and Darcy/Elizabeth..... I can’t express it in words how much I love them.

In this verse Nick Fury adopted Steve, Bucky, Clint, Sam and Scott. 

Clint is married to Natasha. Sam is married to Maria Hill. Scott will do something...which will create problems for everyone.

Everyone is in their thirties. Except Wanda, Pietro, Virginia and Logan. 

They are 27, 27, 25 and 28 respectively. 

Tony, Bucky, Steve, Loki and Thor are : 32, 31, 31, 30, 33. 

Hela is in her early forties.  

Let’s see when I’ll finish writing the whole thing. 

[luobingmeis]

hawk in the raven nest, chapter twenty-three

chapter summary: okay so you know that song that goes "oh shit,,,,,,,,,, oH SHIT" ??? yeah

tw(s): nsfw ahead

read on ao3

previous chapter

chapter list

Nathaniel wasn’t worried for the Foxes. While the Ravens had lost two of their best players, causing a need for athletes out of the Perfect Court to step into Kevin and Jean’s place, the Foxes had a national champion and worked using Raven drills and tactics. By the time January rolled around, the Foxes had their place secured in the spring championships and were on their way to being in the death matches. With Kevin on their line and Nathaniel and Andrew motivating the Foxes from the outside, the Foxes increased their point gaps and wins.

The Ravens remained on top while the Foxes worked from the ground up. It was much easier to remain on top than to start from nothing; Nathaniel’s confidence in the Foxes was growing sturdier and sturdier.

The orange grew less obnoxious each time Nathaniel saw it on their TVs in the lounge.

What added glitter to gold, though, wasn't just the Foxes wins or knowing that Jean was in a better place; it was what happened on February 17th. Lord Kengo Moriyama was a powerful man with a tendency for violence and murder. He was the one who called Nathan Wesninski to his side to be The Butcher, the executioner for the Moriyamas. Lord Kengo was the man who was going to have Nathaniel killed because he didn't believe his lackeys’ positions should be passed down through family. The only reason Nathaniel was still alive today was because he proved he was good enough at Exy to be a Raven.

Lord Kengo Moriyama was also an old man, and with his age came sickness. Over the course of almost three months, more and more people who worked for the Moriyamas came into Evermore to discuss the depletion of their Lord’s health. They had to figure out what would happen when he finally died and his first son Ichirou took the family business.

On February 15th, that day finally came. February 17th was the funeral, and while Kengo’s brother Tetsuji was attending, his second and abandoned son Riko didn’t even receive an invite from his older brother. Nathaniel, being one of the many who hated Riko Moriyama along with his family, felt no pity for Riko and no grief for Lord Kengo.

Riko, however, felt otherwise. Despite barely even knowing his brother, and his father for the matter, his hairpin trigger temper was more sensitive than usual. Nathaniel knew it wasn’t because his father was six foot under; being ignored by his own family was just another blow to his too-high pride. In the Nest, everyone was forced into treating Riko like their king because he was of a higher position of power; they might all be top Class I Exy players, but Riko was a son of Exy. He had more power in his little finger than they all did combined. The Moriyama family, however, had an immense amount of power that trampled Riko’s, and Riko was worth nothing to them. It was one of the few times Riko didn’t have people bowing down to him, and he was not enjoying it.

Nathaniel was glad that Jean wasn’t here to face what was going on. Despite his absence, Tetsuji still called for them to have a captain’s practice while they were gone, which meant that Riko was left in charge. They didn’t run any scrimmages since no one was there to referee, which meant that they practiced drills for a good two hours, Riko berating them and all. Nathaniel’s body was tired and he was tired of Riko. At the two hour mark, Riko ripped off his helmet to really begin ripping them apart.

“You’re all fucking worthless, everyone here. You all think you’re topshit because you’re a Raven? What a fucking joke, you won’t be anything on this team, in your pathetic lives, if you don’t step up and-”

Nathaniel had taken his own helmet off during his rant. He decided to speak up. “Do these insults apply to yourself?”

Nathaniel might as well have slapped the words out of Riko’s mouth. He fell silent and turned his eyes to Nathaniel, as did his team. Andrew in goal leaned on his stick, though Nathaniel could feel his eyes boring into him. “What?” Riko asked, too quietly. Nathaniel could hear the murder in his tone, but that didn’t stop his next words.

“I get it Riko, I get it,” he started. “You had a complicated relationship with your dad. No really, I do get it. My dad never called me on my birthday, either. I probably won't be invited to his funeral, too. It must suck to naturally get all this power from your family but now be forever unable to call up dad and be like, "Hey dad! Guess whose life I just ruined today!" But, and now I’m just going out on a limb here, I don't care. You have done everything in your power -which is quite a lot since the good ole Moriyama family gives the most power to its pricks- to make our life here living hell, and now you want us to sit back and let you berate us more than usual because your dad kicked the bucket? No, we would have actually felt bad if you were, you know, not the scum of the earth, but, you know, things can’t always be as it should. So please, at this point, it would just be better if you carried out your temper tantrum by yourself and let us continue our practice in peace. Maybe finally make your dad proud by shutting the fuck up.” Nathaniel made a pointed pause. “Thanks.”

Nathaniel realized that saying these words to Riko Moriyama was about as suicidal as anything, but he wasn’t going to take them back, and he sure as fuck didn’t regret them.

If Riko was able to strangle him in front of everyone, he would have. However, he was held back by witnesses and the fact that the Ravens couldn’t suffer another close call, so he resided to punching Nathaniel across the jaw. Nathaniel had seen him bounding up to him, ripping his gloves off, but he didn’t bother trying to back away. Riko wouldn’t do anything more in front of a crowd, and if he tried to run, it would only be worse when Riko had him alone.

The punch was strong enough to knock Nathaniel to his feet, and he thought about how Riko would have loved to do this the night Kevin premiered for the Foxes.

Riko loomed over Nathaniel, and Nathaniel’s jaw ached. Heat was blooming over his entire face, yet he managed to throw a savage grin onto his face. “You’ve been waiting to do that. Now, don’t we have a practice to continue?”

Riko scowled at him. He picked up Nathaniel’s helmet, which had fallen out of his hands on impact, and dropped it onto his gut. “Get the fuck up,” he said before pulling on his own.

Nathaniel pushed himself up. He pulled on his helmet and stood up, barely letting his body adjust to being knocked down so fast and then picked up at the same rate. His head hurt and he was exhausted, still he pushed himself on to finish the practice. He wasn’t going to give Riko the satisfaction of knocking him down.

When practice finally came to a close, Nathaniel was set on spending his day sleeping, or at least avoiding Riko until their practice that evening. He was about to enter his own room when he heard a voice behind him.

“Nathaniel.”

He turned to see Andrew standing in his own room’s doorway. Then, Nathaniel decided that he would rather spend the day with Andrew than alone in a room too big for one.

Andrew shut the door behind them and turned to stare at Nathaniel. Nathaniel sat on his bed and stared up at him. Andrew silently followed him and sat down besides him.

“Are you going to continue being an idiot and running into Riko’s fist?” Andrew asked.

“Probably,” Nathaniel said with a shrug. “He says so much bullshit, someone has to call him out for it.”

Andrew shook his head. “You’re an idiot.”

Nathaniel smirked. “You like me, though.”

“We’ve been over this before, I hate you,” Andrew said. Nathaniel didn’t believe him. Still, Nathaniel played into it.

“Of course you do, you obviously hate me so much.”

“One-hundred-and-eight percent, Nathaniel,” Andrew said.

Nathaniel’s gaze on Andrew softened. Each time the percentage increased, the percentage that Nathaniel didn’t believe measured hatred, warmth spread more and more in his chest. He enjoyed the presence of Andrew, enjoyed how easy all of this came and how he could just be with Andrew around.

“Staring,” Andrew muttered, though Nathaniel didn’t miss Andrew’s eyes scanning his jaw where bruising and swelling had most likely began to occur. He jutted his chin out to Andrew, and Andrew only waited a moment before gently taking his chin in his hand. He tilted Nathaniel’s head, observing the damage done, and gently probed at the swelling.

Nathaniel wanted to make a joke of Andrew, who claimed to hate Nathaniel, offering so much attention to his barely-there injury, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. He wanted to remember this, remember Andrew with something that wasn’t quite softness in his eyes but something close enough.

Nathaniel hadn’t realized how close their faces had gotten until he was staring right into Andrew’s eyes. Andrew’s eyes flicked from Nathaniel’s own to his lips. “Yes or no?” Andrew asked, his voice barely filling the room.

“Yes,” Nathaniel said without hesitation. He’s never been more comfortable than with Andrew.

Andrew pressed his lips to Nathaniel’s. His hand still cupped Nathaniel’s jaw and warmth radiated through Nathaniel’s body. Everything he felt for Andrew ran through his veins and ignited his heart. With Andrew’s lips on his own, he never felt more at peace and more alive. He was more with Andrew, more than just a number or an Exy player. When he was with Andrew, he was Nathaniel Wesninski, he didn’t have to hide behind a three or a helmet, and that meant more to Nathaniel than he could ever think about saying.

Nathaniel fidgeted with his hands, wanting to find something to do with them but not wanting to cross any boundaries. He wanted to hold onto Andrew, hold onto him like he would be the last joy Nathaniel would ever have, but all he allowed himself were fingers reaching but never making contact. Andrew must have noticed his yearning, for he took his hand away from Nathaniel’s face and grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands to his hair. Nathaniel wasted no time in fisting his hands in Andrew’s hair, finding comfort in the touch.

At one point Nathaniel’s kisses started to stray from Andrew’s lips, but the moment they touched his jaw he pulled away slightly. “Is this okay?” he asked lowly.

“Keep going,” Andrew said, his voice gruffer than Nathaniel expected. Still, Nathaniel nodded and continued to kiss down Andrew’s jaw and to his neck. Andrew’s hands balled in the front of his shirt as Nathaniel restrained himself from leaving marks along Andrew’s neck. When he made his way back up to Andrew’s lips, Andrew’s hands started to inch downwards but paused at the hem of Nathaniel’s sweatpants.

“Yes,” Nathaniel breathed out the answer to the unspoken question against Andrew’s lips. Andrew’s one hand clamped itself behind Nathaniel’s neck as the other reached under his sweats and boxers. Nathaniel gasped at the touch and his fingers tightened in Andrew’s hair. Nathaniel’s breathing was coming in quick breaths and he felt hot under Andrew’s touch. His pulse was flying so fast that he wondered if Andrew could hear it.

When Nathaniel came to completion, it was in heavy breathing and words tumbling out of his lips that sounded a lot like Andrew. His eyes were clamped shut and his hands clutching Andrew’s hair. It took a moment for his heartrate to straighten out, and when it did, he finally opened his eyes and his blue met Andrew’s hazel.

“Go back to your room,” Andrew said.

“But- you-” Nathaniel’s eyes flicked downwards.

“I can take care of it,” he said. “Leave.”

Nathaniel nodded and managed to stumble out of Andrew’s room and into his own. His legs felt wobbly with the thought of Andrew and he laid on his bed, motionless, for a couple of minutes before finally moving to get changed.

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Soulmate au: The one where your soulmate's name is printed on your skin at birth

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Shinobi the world over clashed with each other for an endless amount of reasons. Some fought for money, some for honor. Some slaked their bloodlust and some sought vengeance. There were many reasons for the clans that stalked the elemental nations to disagree with each other but there would always be one thing that each and every one of them would agree on without question: a person’s Scrawl was sacred. To use someone’s Scrawl against them was to sink lower than the lowest murderer. To mock a Scrawl was the height of boorishness.

It followed, then, that most people were fairly protective of their Scrawl, hiding them away whenever the natural placement allowed. Uchiha Madara was one such person. His had developed high on his chest. Were it on the left breast it would have sat directly over his heart but instead it had appeared on his right side. He kept it covered, not only to keep it from the prying eyes of others, but to keep anyone from learning the truth of it: Madara’s Scrawl was smudged.

He’d never seen the likes of it before, never even heard of it happening. The writing that was so clear on everyone else was smudged on his own skin, like water had been dripped in the ink and a thumb passed over the letters to make them run together. The smudging was so bad that he could not read it. He had no idea what name his soulmate bore.

That changed, however, in the year he turned thirteen years old. It was hardly luck that he was alone when it happened; Madara had been spending as much time as possible alone ever since he had discovered that his river friend was a Senju. He had liked Hashirama, liked his innocence and the carefree way he treated Madara. He didn’t have to be a clan heir around that big goof, all he ever needed to be was himself. But now that his father knew there was no chance that their friendship could continue. Madara wanted peace as much as Hashirama did but he also knew that there was no going against Tajima’s orders. He was still sulking over all of this months later, alone in the forest on the fringes of the Uchiha compound, when he felt the strangest sensation in his chest.

It felt like something were crawling and shifting under his skin. His first thought was that of the Aburame clan and the multitude of strange things they could do with their kikaichu. He thought he could be forgiven, then, for the way his entire body flailed as he tore at his shirt in an effort to get to the affected area – though he was still very thankful that no one was around to witness it.

There were no kikaichu under his skin when he finally clawed his way out of his clothes. His jaw dropped in shock at where he had always had little more than a smudge of unreadable ink. There was a name there now! A perfectly readable name! His heart thundered while he stared blindly for a few moments, just admiring the perfect clarity of each letter. Then his brain finally caught up to his eyes and he took in the word that was stamped across his skin, revealing to him the name of the person whom he was destined to fall in love with.

It read: “Tobirama”.

Madara felt an inky black cloud settle around his heart, a weight in his chest that threatened to pull him off the branch he was perched upon and send him crashing down to fall amongst the ruins of his every hope and dream.

He couldn’t be soulmates with Tobirama! Not if it was the same Tobirama that he had already met, in any case. He was a Senju, not to mention a snotty little brat who always had some new trick up his sleeve that he showed no mercy in using against Izuna. Madara had never noticed Tobirama on the battlefields until after that day by the river when he had jumped in to defend his brother.

As that moment had been the one in which he had activated his Sharingan for the first time, Madara remembered that first image perfectly. He remembered that Tobirama’s shirt had been too big for him as though he were playing in his big brother’s clothing. His hair had been strangely uneven, likely shorn off with the blade of a kunai for one reason or another. His face had seemed strangely familiar, although he hadn’t been able to place it. The next time he had seen the younger boy he had tattooed three red lines on his face, giving him an angular look even with the lingering softness of baby fat. Against his own will, Madara had noted then that it was a rather good look for him.

With a groan, the young Uchiha pulled at his hair with both hands, frustrated. Why did he have to be marked with something so difficult? His father would never allow him to pursue this even if he wanted to. And Madara wasn’t even sure if he wanted to! He wished that he had never met Hashirama by the river last year. His life would have been easier if he hadn’t.

-

No matter how hard he tried not to, Madara noticed Tobirama after that. His eyes were drawn to the younger boy every time he appeared in one of their clashes with the Senju clan. He watched with rapt attention as the boy grew in to a gangly teenager, strangely soft and small until he reached fifteen, at which point he began to shoot up like a weed and his entire form broadened and thickened until one day Madara looked and saw a man standing before him. He tried not to be too obvious about the way his mouth went dry and his palms suddenly became clammy.

That was the day that Madara knew with absolute certainty that he had to accept Hashirama’s continuous offers of peace. His father would never accept them of course – but his father was slowing as age crept up on him. As much as he felt like scum for wishing for the death of a family members, Tajima had never been a good father. He had barely even been a good clan leader, constantly hungering for more war, more revenge, more death.

Something had to be done, of course, and he was going to have to do it himself. The next time he met Hashirama on the battlefield he shied a rock at the other’s face. To anyone else it would look like an attack, an attempt to distract his opponent, but the moment Hashirama caught the rock and his eyes widened at the perfect smooth shape of it Madara knew his old friend had gotten his message.

They met on the riverbank that evening, the same place that they used to all those years ago. Hashirama nearly bowled him over trying to hug him and Madara only just dodged his efforts. The moment he said he wanted peace Hashirama started crying great thick tears of happiness and it took almost half an hour to get him to stop sobbing and attempting more hugs. The effort of evading them took up so much of his concentration that he failed to notice they were not alone until he looked up at the tree line and spotted Tobirama standing there, arms folded and features drawn in to an expression of disapproval. He was so startled he forgot he was wrestling Hashirama away and, with a yelp, found himself tackled on to his back for the tightest hug he had even been misfortunate enough to receive.

“Get off me you over-grown fool!”

“You said you wanted peace! I’m so happy Madara!”

“Well I didn’t say I wanted cuddles, so off!”

Hashirama laughed as he rolled to the side and sat up. Once upright, he spotted his brother and it was like a second sun coming out to shine over the first.

“Tobirama! Guess what! Guess what!” The big man-child was up and dancing on the spot in a flash, only to deflate when his brother responded in a flat tone.

“Madara wants peace. Yes, I heard.”

The Uchiha in question pushed himself carefully to his feet. It hadn’t occurred to him until just now but he wondered if Tobirama’s Scrawl had been a smudge too, if he had discovered the name of his soulmate only after they had been forced farther apart or if he had known all along. He supposed now at least he might have a passing chance for an opportunity to ask – if this even was the correct Tobirama. He wasn’t the only one in the world bearing that name, after all.

Hashirama blathered on about unity and rainbows – or something of the like, Madara wasn’t really listening – while Tobirama’s eyes slid over to Madara and stayed there. His gaze was piercing, like thin little senbon stabbing in to the Uchiha heir with all the force of an ire he wasn’t sure whether or not he’d earned. What had he even done to this man? Other than be born in to an enemy clan. That, he thought, was certainly enough to breed instant hatred in many people.

With a sigh, he turned to quiet his friend, reining in the excessive enthusiasm so that they could get back to the point.

“My father does not want peace,” he pointed out when he could finally be heard. “Whatever plans we make will be for nothing while he still lives. So you’re going to have to pretend that you know what the word patience means.” He was startled to hear a snort of amusement from Tobirama, who looked away when Madara glanced over at him.

“You can’t convince him at all?” Hashirama whined.

“I’ve tried many times over the years but there is no getting through to him. He is buried in his hatred and he has no wish to stop this stupid war. No matter how many lives it costs us.” He shook his head. “He’s not going to live forever though. And I would like to have as many members of my clan at least sympathetic to the idea of peace as I can by the time I stand at the head of it.”

The weight of Tobirama’s silent gaze was heavier than he could have imagined it would be. The younger said nothing and yet Madara could feel those eyes on himself, weighing, judging. He wondered how he measured up yet refrained from asking and Tobirama offered nothing, not adding to their conversation, just silently watching from the opposite riverbank.

Madara left after a while but it was not their only meeting. After so long apart it was surprisingly easy to strike up a friendship with Hashirama once more. The party was dampened a little by Tobirama’s frequent presence, however. Madara found himself looking forward to the times when the younger man would tag along as much as he dreaded them for their awkwardness. Tobirama never said anything, never even came close to them. He perched himself in a tree on the far side of the river from their usual meeting spot and simply hovered watchfully. Madara couldn’t decide if he followed his elder sibling like this all the time or if it was just that the man didn’t trust him personally, even after so many peaceful talks.

-

It took two more years before Madara’s father fell in battle. It was a death that seemed a fitting end for the life he had led: when the rest of his squadron refused to push so far in to enemy territory, Tajima went alone across Senju lands and was cut down by a passing patrol. He died alone trying to stoke the flames of a fading war no one else wanted to keep fighting.

Upon receiving a hawk announcing his death from Hashirama he immediately declared his intention to make peace with their rival clan – and was met with resounding approval. He was not the only Uchiha tired of war, tired of death and loss and the aching despair of having nothing left but fading memories. He sent the hawk back with an overture of peace, which he later was told caused Hashirama to burst in to an absolute flood of tears.

It was only a matter of cooperation and planning after that and before either of them knew it they were standing on the cliff they had sat upon as children, looking down over the village they had always dreamed of building. There had been some talk lately of choosing a single leader for the village and the whispers that reached his ears said that the choice would likely be between the two of them. If he were to be honest, Madara would have liked the position. For too many years he had been all but helpless to improve the living conditions of those in his care and he would have liked the opportunity to do so now. On the other hand he trusted Hashirama to do the same and to listen to any suggestion he might have.

The only thing Madara could have possibly wished for that he did not already have was Tobirama.

He woke every day with his fingers clutched to his chest over the name of the one who was supposed to be destined for him. No matter how many times he attempted conversation or some small gesture of goodwill, Tobirama’s opinion of him never seemed to change. The younger man looked at him with a blank expression no matter what he did and it was discouraging, to say the least. It was lonely.

The subject returned to his mind often. This was his soulmate; of course it was on his mind. In the short time since the village had finally finished conduction and most of the clans had gathered, he had managed to keep quiet about it. Today, standing with his best friend and looking out at all they had wrought together, he finally brought it up.

“Is there a specific reason your brother hates me?”

Hashirama looked over at him with a befuddled expression. “What?”

“Your brother,” Madara repeated, catching a leaf on the wind and twirling it between his fingers. “He hates me and I’ve never figured out why exactly. I was never actually trying to kill you, I’ve been as kind as possible to him, yet he still looks at me like an unfavorable selection of droppings.”

“Tobes doesn’t hate you!”

“He – Tobes? Does he know you call him by that ridiculous nickname?”

“Ah, yeah, he hates it.” Hashirama scratched at one ear sheepishly. “I should really stop that.”

Madara sighed. “You’re an idiot to anger to him,” he said, to which Hashirama began to laugh.

“Tobes calls me an idiot either way!”

“I thought you said you were going to quit calling him that! And you didn’t answer my question!”

“Oh! Um, I don’t know? I mean, I don’t think he hates you at all! Or at least he’s never said anything about it to me. But I have a more important question! We should come up with a name for the village! We can’t just keep calling it ‘The Village’, right?” Hashirama beamed at him, then turned his goofy, too wide grin outwards to smile down at the houses far below. Madara narrowed his eyes.

“This is important,” he growled. Hashirama turned his head to grin at him again and the Uchiha knew his friend would talk no more of his brother until Madara had pandered to his strange whims. He fiddled with the leaf in his hand, twirling it again before raising it to contemplate the village through the hole in its center. “Maybe…Konohagakure?”

It was pure whim that made him say it and he did not expect Hashirama’s odd blubbering reaction nor the voice that suddenly spoke up from behind him.

“Poetic.”

Madara whipped around so fast he nearly lost his footing, his widened eyes falling on the form of the man approaching them from the direction they had climbed up themselves earlier. Tobirama wore no armor today, leaving him all in black. It highlighted the paleness of his natural colors and, as had happened more and more often as the years went by, Madara felt his mouth going dry. The younger man held his eye for a prolonged second before easily looking away, back to his brother.

“The Feudal Lords will be here soon for the conference,” he said. “You should be preparing to meet them.” Hashirama made that little startled noise he did when he’d forgotten something.

“Oh! You’re right I should! Excuse me.” With a quick smile his friend turned to hurry away. As he reached his brother the younger man turned his head to glare at the brunet.  

“He’s right, you know.”

Hashirama paused in his steps, blinking. “Who’s right?”

“I would appreciate it if you stopped mangling my name in such a ridiculous manner. Stop calling me Tobes when you think I can’t hear you.” He glared, his brother pouted, and Madara prayed for the earth to swallow him whole.

As Hashirama once again turned and walked away, Madara whipped around to face the open air beyond the cliff face, hoping to hide his mortification. Obviously Tobirama had heard their earlier conversation, which meant that he had heard Madara’s question. He wondered if there was anywhere in the village he could hide that the sensor wouldn’t be able to find him – at least until he had patched up the fraying edges of his pride.

The crunch of gravel at his back told him that instead of leaving with his brother Tobirama was coming closer. Madara twitched but refrained from moving so much as a muscle until he could see the other in his peripheral vision. Then he peeked sideways to find Tobirama staring out over the village as his sibling had, face held in a hesitant, thoughtful expression.

Madara waited, watching his companion from the corner of one eye, yet neither of them spoke. They stood next to each other in complete silence until the Uchiha could take it no longer. He sighed heavily and crossed his arms as he set his gaze very firmly on the air above Tobirama’s shoulder.

“I was only asking because my Scrawl bears the name Tobirama.” He watched the younger man twitch but did not look up to see his face yet. “I’ve always thought that it was meant to be you and yet you’ve always seemed…”

“You said nothing because you believed I hated you and therefore doubted that I was, indeed, your soulmate.”

“Yes.” He noticed that the Senju hadn’t denied anything. Emboldened by this, taking for granted that he had been right all along, he found the courage for a question he’d been wondering about since he was a child. “Was your Scrawl a smudge too at first?”

“A smudge? I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“As though someone had drawn their fingers through wet ink. The name was unreadable until I my thirteenth year and then one day it just…became clear. It was a few months after that day by the river; I felt a strange sensation under my skin and when I checked, the name ‘Tobirama’ was perfectly legible.”

The man in question stared at him with wide eyes and parted lips, seemingly stunned in to silence. Madara drew his brows down to cover the slight embarrassment that rose up and cleared his throat.

“I suppose not, then,” he muttered.

Once more they both stood quiet, each working their way through different thoughts. Madara had thought that he would finally have a reason for why the name on his chest had been unreadable for much of his childhood when he at last confirmed who his soulmate truly was. He was reasonably certain that this was the Tobirama he was meant for and yet it looked as though he had no answers either.

Or, at least, his companion seemed not quite ready to process certain things. He was still staring at Madara with his eyes slowly widening more and more until his expression could only be described as awed. While the older man wasn’t sure what about his strange Scrawl would warrant awe, he certainly wasn’t going to discourage anyone from looking at him in such a manner. Especially not the one he had been trying to ingratiate himself with for years now.

When Tobirama eventually pulled himself together he did it with as much grace as he did everything else. His expression cleared and he gave vent to a small, toneless hum as he looked away, his eyes looking down below the cliff.

“My Scrawl bears the name ‘Madara’ and it always has,” he said quietly. Madara felt his heart leap straight in to his throat, barely able to stay still as the other continued. “I was always afraid to ask what yours was. I feared it might say Yuuka.” Madara’s face twisted in confusion.

“That’s a woman’s name. Who the hell is Yuuka?”

“I was.”

Madara’s staring was nowhere near as restrained as Tobirama’s. His mouth gaped open and his eyes nearly bugged out of his skull – until he realized exactly how rude he was being and his jaw snapped shut with an audible click. Tobirama swung his head around to glare directly in to Madara’s eyes.

“Was. That name is dead. As is Yuuka. I am Tobirama.” When Madara did nothing more than nod slowly, still reeling with confusion, Tobirama lifted both of his hands to scrub at his face, his voice muffled by his thin fingers as he continued to speak. “I chose the name Tobirama only a few months before that day at the river. I cut my hair and stole my brother’s clothing and I offered to fight anyone who still wished to call me Yuuka because I knew I was a boy, no matter that I had been born with a girl’s body. But it felt…strange. It felt odd to answer to a new name, like it didn’t fit yet.”

The younger man lowered his hand at last, looking down and speaking to his palms. “A few months after that day I wrote that dead, unwanted name on every empty page of a brand new notebook. Then I burned them one by one, imagining that I was burning her memory from the world. The next morning Hashirama woke me and he called my name and I realized…that I was Tobirama. It finally felt right. I finally felt right.”

“Oh.” Madara could think of no other response. Tobirama snorted.

“Take your time, Uchiha.”

“Shut up! It’s surprising, okay!”

“Just surprising?”

“Very surprising? Fascinating? I never considered this as the reason, alright? I’m just amazed by how much sense it makes.”

His companion looked up, startled. “How much sense it makes?”

“If you’re just going to repeat everything I say then don’t bother, you’re not contributing to the conversation.” Madara sniffed haughtily but didn’t bother to hold the expression. He was too excited. “It does make sense! My Scrawl must have changed the moment you realized you truly felt like yourself. It was smudged before because you had the wrong name! And the moment it changed was the moment you accepted the right one! Don’t you find that fascinating?”

“Well yes, but…Madara you do understand that-”

“Yes I understand what you’re telling me. You can’t have imagined I would mind?”

“The possibility crossed my mind that you would perhaps find it concerning.”

Madara scoffed. “Quit hiding behind big words and say you were worried.” Then his face softened in to a smile, his body weight shifting to lean closer to the younger man. “You’re a man. I’ve always known that. Obviously I have questions and we’ll have more than one conversation about this but I don’t mind. If you’ve paid even the slightest bit of attention then you’ll already know that I’ve been in love with you for ages now. I’d much prefer to put the drama on hold and get to the kissing and the big dramatic ‘I’ve finally found you’ moment.” He raised a single eyebrow and seemingly against his will Tobirama began to laugh.

“I don’t do dramatic,” he protested.

“You’re more dramatic than your brother,” Madara insisted. “You’re just quieter about it.”

Tobirama laughed again, looking at him sideways when he took a step closer. “You think you have me all figured out now, hm?”

“I already knew all the most important things about you. Now, are you going to kiss me or not?”

Madara did get his kiss but it was a rather short one. It turned out Tobirama had never kissed anyone before and was rather adorably shy about it. The moment he started blushing Madara laughed, causing him to storm off back towards the village. The older man was smiling even as he chased after his irritated soulmate, completely unperturbed to already be having their first fight. It had taken him more than twenty years but he finally had everything he had ever wanted in his life.