#‘They aren’t talking’ yeah of course not because they’re birds now

[ghosttotheparty]

love me softly p3

@acitytokeepyoursecrets tags on this post she gets it god bless

@urmomification @legitcookie @deleataecount :)

Eddie doesn’t like that he’s into Steve Harrington, so he does what he does best: acts like a dick and annoys Steve into hating him even more than he already did.

But it’s doesn’t even seem to be working. Even when he stands on cafeteria tables and shouts about pompous rich kids and their shiny cars.

Steve just looks up at him, while the others sneer and throw insults and fries at him. He almost smiles a lot of the time, his expression light. Amused. He just watches, eating quietly while Eddie shouts and yells and cackles when Tommy H throws something at him and misses. (Steve covers his mouth. Eddie thinks he’s laughing too.)

When Eddie sits again, Gareth is almost glaring at him, his elbow on the table, his fingers to his forehead, like he’s watching a house fire. He tells Eddie it’s a bad idea. The others don’t know what they’re talking about but they don’t really care.

Eddie knows it’s a bad idea to taunt Steve and his friends. That he’s just painting a bright red target on his own back. But he can’t really help it.

Especially not when Steve starts responding, flipping Eddie the bird while Eddie’s up on a table, tilting his head adorably when Eddie comments that he looks like a Christian summer camp counsellor.

Tommy just comments that at least Steve can buy new clothes. Eddie just fires back that money can’t buy better taste, bitch. Steve snorts even though it’s a dig on him.

It goes on for a while. The teasing. The stares. The suppressed smiles and laughter.

But it actually starts on a Friday.

Eddie has detention. (Shocker.) The only reason he actually goes is because Mr Peterson isn’t an asshole. He’s friendly, even to Eddie.

Greets him as “Mr Munson,” looks at the pink detention slip before raising a single eyebrow at Eddie and tells him to sit with a soft shake of his head and a smile.

And Eddie turns to find Steve sitting in the back, watching him. Eddie’s grin falters and then widens, his head tilting as he raises his eyebrows, and Steve’s face turns red. He looks away. Eddie goes to sit with him, still grinning.

The room is quiet. There aren’t many others here, a few of them doodling on tables or sleeping. Peterson doesn’t care. (Another reason Eddie likes him.)

“What’d you do?” Eddie asks quietly, sitting too close to him.

Steve just looks down at his notebook. It’s closed, a pen laying on top of it. Eddie wants to flip through it.

“Nothing.”

“Steve Harrington is in detention,” Eddie says dryly. “You did something.”

“Nuh-uh.”

Eddie snorts. Steve glances at him. He’s smiling, and his cheeks are still flushed, and Eddie might die.

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Ste-e-e-eve, what’d you do?”

“Oh, we’re on a first name basis now?”

Eddie blinks. He’s only called him Harrington. Steve’s never called him anything.

“Yeah, I guess. Tell me what you did.”

“…Called Collins a jackass. In front of him.”

Eddie drops his head to the table.

“Incredible.”

“What did you do?”

“Forgot my homework.” He lifts his head. “Seven times.”

Steve snorts.

“Of course.”

They’re not allowed to talk during detention. It’s too quiet for them to even whisper with Peterson hearing, the room silent except the scratching of someone’s pencil and the occasional cough or sigh.

Eddie lowers his head to the table, ready to take a nap or zone out or something, but Steve opens the notebook. Eddie turns his head to look, his cheek pressing against the cold surface, and Steve doesn’t notice.

Eddie sits up to watch. Steve flips through the pages, and Eddie catches a glimpse of a drawing, so he reaches out and take the notebook wordlessly. Steve makes a small indignant ugh. Eddie shushes him.

Eddie flips through the pages slowly, looking at Steve’s handwriting. It’s pretty. Almost girly. Every page has random, half-understandable notes, without any kind of indicating header that might include the subject or date.

He thinks he’s getting closer to the drawing, because Steve reaches out to take the notebook again. Eddie swats his hand away, and Steve drops his head to the table with soft groan.

Eddie grins.

He finds the drawing. It’s a messy pencil sketch, scratchy snd scribbled and smudged and shitty, but easily recognisable.

His grins falters, and he blinks, his eyes tracing the lines of his own curls, the angle of his own nose, the curve of his eyelashes.

He turns to look at Steve, who’s now hiding his face in his shirt, looking away from Eddie.

Eddie lays back on the table, his chin propped on his arms as he gazes at the drawing again.

Steve lets him keep the notebook until the end of detention.

part four

read the whole thing ao3

#is this just gonna be a thing now #i rly like ppls tags yall are entertaining #love you guys <3 #i already have so many idea for this series (???) #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #ficlet #just realised i’m so used to ao3 i still code italics instead of just italicising them lmso #oopsies ✨ #steddie ficlet #1k #love me softly

[hannahssimblr]

The sunlight dapples over the grass beneath the linden tree, and I lie there with Clóda and watch clouds drift through blue gaps in the foliage. The air is fragrant with the scent of the clusters of blooms overhead and there is barely a sound, so far we are no from roads and traffic that only the cows in the adjacent field create any noise, and the rustling of the breeze through grass and the hedgerows, the chirping of the birds. 

“This is nice,” Clóda sighs with her head cushioned by the grass, “It's peaceful.”

“Yeah I like coming here.”

“It’s so perfect. How did you know about this spot?”

“Well, I guess I just cycle around a lot in my free time and explore.”

“On your own?”

“Of course.”

She considers this, “But isn’t it boring?”

I smile, “No, never. I’m the best fun to be around.”

She reaches over and punches me lightly in the bicep, “God, you’re so full of yourself, did you know that?”

“Do you mind it?”

“A bit, but you’re good looking so you get away with it.”

I glance down at her, the dappled light creating interesting patterns on her skin, “Hm, I’m good looking, am I?”

“Obviously. For God’s sake, you’re the hottest boy on the beach and you already know it. I’ve told you before.”

“Yeah I just wanted to hear you saying it again.”

She bursts out laughing and shakes her head. “Oh my God, like.”

“What?” I’m grinning now, trying to catch her eye as she tilts her face away from me, “Do you hate that about me? Do you hate that I know it?”

“You know most boys wouldn’t get away with being like this.”

“But I do?”

“Mm.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes! God. You could probably do anything at all and every girl in the village would still fancy you, do you know that?”

Mhm,” I thread my hand into her silky blonde hair and kiss the corner of her mouth. She sighs, a fluttery feminine sigh that turns the insides of me to jelly. She softens as I push her gently onto the ground beneath me and kiss her slowly and deeply with my hand on the patch of sun-warmed skin between the hem of her vest and waistband of her shorts. As I slip my tongue into her mouth I gently stroke the taut skin of her ribs with my thumb, then, once I’m sure I’m in the clear, I slide my hand all the way under her top and hold her boob. It’s above the bra, but it’s fine, it’s enough to make me want to punch the air even though I will obviously not be doing that while she is still underneath me. 

She sighs again, this gorgeous, involuntary sound and puts her hand over mine as if to show me that she doesn’t want me to stop touching her, but I stop anyway, I pull back and roll onto my back to cool off because I am only human and my tennis shorts are made of the most unforgiving type of nylon available. 

“Other boys aren’t like you,” she says in wonderment, and I glance at her again, her mouth wet from mine, “I think I’ve just realised that every kiss I’ve had up until now has been awful.”

“Were they?”

“Irish boys are terrible kissers.”

“Well, I wouldn't know anything about that.”

“Have you kissed a lot of girls?”

I laugh awkwardly. How I hate questions like this, questions about what I’ve done or what I haven’t done and who I’ve done it with, as though it’s anything less than a way to be judged, or make the asker feel insecure about their own experiences, when really, I wish more than anything to just kiss a girl or touch her without the presence of other girls in her head. a comparison to those who have come before like those kisses of the past still cling to my aura like spirits when really, they’re banished already. I rarely think of them anymore, and I wish Clóda wouldn't either.

“No,” I lie, because the real answer is that I’ve lost count and I wouldn’t be able to tell her even if I wanted to, “Not many at all.”

“What about other things? Have you, you know…” 

I leap up to hold her wrists and pin her gently to the ground again, “What about you, huh? Miss ‘I’ve done almost everything’? Why don’t you tell me?”

“I have!” She says defensively, “I just… don’t like to talk about it.”

“So why should I?”

“Because you’re a boy, you’re supposed to be proud.”

“But not girls?”

“No, come on, you know it’s different.”

I bend to kiss her jaw, “I guess.”

“I don’t want to be some… slut.”

“You aren’t.”

“I know you might be used to that, you know, all those girls in Dublin, you know we’ve all heard stories about the things that happen in mixed schools, what everyone gets up to.”

“Girls in mixed schools in Dublin aren’t sluts either.”

“Well I have a cousin up there and she says that a girl in fifth year got pregnant last year.” I don’t really like the way that Clóda’s eyes are gleaming with delight over this piece of odious gossip. “Can you imagine? I heard she was getting off with loads of different lads…”

I let her go and sit up on my own, “Well, that’s sad for her.”

Clóda hesitates. “Yeah but she obviously brought it upon herself, like you don’t just get pregnant at seventeen without being-”

“I think it’d happen less if there was basic sex education and access to contraceptives,” this is Jen talking, not me. She’s chewed my ear off enough times about this stuff. Jen, who won’t tolerate a bad word said about a fellow girl, Jen, who understands the parts of the system that are broken so much better than I do, and I’m surprised to find myself rattling it off like this, because it means that somewhere along the way I must have really listened to what she was saying. And believed in it.

“Well, I was just saying,” Clóda pivots, “It was just a story I heard is all. I hope that she’ll be alright.”

“Yeah same, I hope she has support.”

“Totally. I think it’d be so hard to have a baby and all when you’re still at school, God, I can’t even imagine.”

Our conversation lapses into silence, and I shut my eyes and listen to the birds singing and the bubbling of a stream not far from here. I’ve been swimming there before. The water is clean and beautiful, but I don’t feel like taking Clóda there today. 

Next to me she is moving around, unzipping and rummaging through her bag. A moment later she shakes me, “Are you sleeping?”

“No, I was resting.”

“Can I take a photo of you?” 

I peel my eyes open and she is wielding a metallic pink digital camera, “of me?”

“Of us, together.”

“If you want.”

“Just because I feel like this is a nice moment,” I agree, and she nestles down next to me in the grass and holds the camera at arm's length, taking about a dozen photos of us in as many poses as she can orchestrate.

“Now kiss me,” she says finally, and it feels a bit embarrassing but I do it anyway because I’m not bothered to argue. Then she lies there and scrolls through all of the photos and talks about which are her favourites, and it is as I am squinting at the little screen that I hear footsteps through the grass. I look up, and someone is hiking through the field in our direction. 

“Oh God,” I mutter.

Liam from the Surf Shack is here, for some completely perplexing reason. “What’s up, Turner?” He says with that big Goofy The Dog grin that he has.

I struggle onto my elbows, “just Jude is alright, thanks.”

“I can’t call you Turner?” “No, sorry.”

He comes to a stop right nearby, looming over us with his hands in his worn out cargo shorts, his blonde curls sticking up in every direction, “Hi Clóda,” He says, and she doesn’t answer him. 

I shield my eyes from the sun and peer at him from under my hand, “Um, what are you doing here?”

“I live up there,” he gestures vaguely across the fields, “this is my shortcut usually, whenever my dad is working late and he can’t drive me home, I like to walk.”

“It’s a long walk from the beach.”

“Not really! And I love to stretch the auld legs, sure you know yourself.”

I don’t know why he talks like that; like a man of seventy eight in the back of a country pub but I’ve always kind of felt like Liam is both impossibly old and impossibly young all at the same time. I feel guilty for being awkward, actually, but everything about being around Liam makes me feel this exact combination of guilt and discomfort, especially since he’s oblivious of the fact that he is in fact not good friends with all of the teenagers on the beach, and nobody is man enough to tell him as much, so we all just go on living this charade. 

“Yeah,” I say, “I know what you mean. It’s nice to get out and walk sometimes.”

“I’m back later though,” He goes on, “I’m just going home now to have a shower and whatnot, see I was out on the waves all day with the surfboard, you know? Good waves today, big waves. I’m heading back in later then for the bingo night at the pub. That’s at eight if you two wanted to come.”

I hesitate, “Bingo? Well-”

“Grand prizes and all. I think there’s a voucher for the butcher in there anyway, some local strawberry jam, lovely, and I think a handbag for the ladies,” He grins at Clóda as though he believes somehow that this applies to her specifically, but she is refusing to look at him. 

“Yeah man, we’ll come if we can.”

“Ah, great stuff,” He rocks back and forth on his heels during the following awkward pause, “I like your new haircut,” he says. “Real cool.”

“Do you? I just did it because I was bored.”

“You think I should cut my hair? Might be handy for the summer, for keeping me head cool and all that.”

“If you want to, I guess.” 

“Yeah! Yeah maybe. We’ll see now. You never know, when you come to bingo this evening you might see me with a matching ‘do!” He winks.

God, this is excruciating. “Totally. Well, I guess we might see you there. Maybe not but, um, who knows.”

“Well, if I see ya I’ll save you a seat at my table.”

“Thanks, Liam.”

“Enjoy, now!” He says, and I don’t really know what he means by that, whether he means that Clóda and I should enjoy each other or the scenery or a third, hidden option, but it doesn’t matter because he is finally leaving, marching across the fields toward home. 

“Oh my God,” Clóda says acidly once he’s out of earshot. “I didn’t know that he knew you.”

“Yeah Liam’s been here forever, I see him every summer, he’s, um, hard to miss.”

“He’s in the boys' school up the road from ours and he’s the worst. We all hate him.”

This sours my guts, “Okay, well, he’s not that bad. He’s just a bit innocent, I think he means well.”

“No, oh my god. He fancied my friend for ages and we were all freaked out. He bought her flowers.” She says this as though buying flowers is the equivalent of doing a shit in her coat pocket, but I suppose that I kind of know what she’s trying to say. 

“Yeah it’s a bit uncomfortable when you get a gift from someone you don’t like.”

“Yeah, especially him. Like, if it was you or something it’d be different, obviously.”

“Would it, yeah.” I say flatly.

“Yeah I mean obviously because you’re fine and you have friends, he’s just…” She doesn’t even have words for what he is, just a disgusted expression like she’s discovered a slug in her flip flop.

“Okay well, I guess I don’t know what it’s like to be a girl who Liam fancies, so I can’t really give any input,” I try to push feelings of incredible shame and disappointment to the side, because maybe what she’s saying is fair. I really don’t know what it’s like to be a teen girl, or how it feels to find Liam waiting outside my school with a bouquet of flowers. Who am I to question the things that she’s saying or how it feels to be in that situation?

“Anyway, let’s take more photos,” she says, brushing the whole thing off as Liam distantly hops a fence and disappears into the trees. I concede, and she hooks her arm around my neck to pull me back onto the soft grass with her. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy #I always feel torn with Liam tbh #like this situation makes me feel bad for him but also idk? #tw: bullying

[uh-mxtx]

Modern MDZS au where WWX gets in a debate with college professor LQR about LGBTQA+ stuff, probably bc WWX is “corrupting” LWJ with the gay agenda. And stealing all of LWJ’s turtlenecks, for some odd reason! The boy clearly can’t take care of his own clothes, they’re all tattered and his hair is a birds nest.

Anyways, LWR is going on about how the homos are lecherous filth that have fallen to temptation or smth while covering up their transgressions by naming themselves odd things. Really, LQR asks, “what even is a pan-sexual?” (Or some other such thing that shows he doesn’t actually know anything anout being queer)

“Oh, you don’t know?” WWX asks, eyes wide and innocent and CLEARLY up to Some Shit. “Professor Lan, Professor Lan, Professor ‘show your sources do your research’ LAN. Do you not know what we’re debating about?”

LQR huffs and starts saying something about family values and continuing on bloodlines, but WWX is grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

“Professor, have you ever actually researched this? Or are you just wasting my time?” (An actual LQR quote from earlier in the semester)

LQR puffs up, and he’s all “of course I haven’t-“

“Well then, Sir,” WWX interrupts, manic joy written all over his expression, “may I just say that you have the audacity of a white man insisting that Mandarin is just a type of orange.”

The bell rings before LQR can get a word in, and WWX grabs his bag and books it to the door.

“I’ll send you some reading, Professor Lan! Let’s do this again when you know what you’re talking about!”

And with that he’s gone.

Now, WWX is only a little bit of a hypocrite, bc he definitely thought he was straight and only just managed his Revelation of “oh heck Lan Zhan is so pretty he turned me gay?” *research montage bc he actually has resources (and NHS definitely helped.) “Oh maybe girls are just pretty and I’m demisexual.”

However, the fact that he only JUST did this, means his ADHD self still has all the tabs open. And, like, he did say he’d send stuff, and this is Lan Zhan’s uncle. So, he compiles a helpful list of sites and articles, includes a link to a place where you can ask questions to the Queer Council, and sends it off.

LQR is initially going to ignore it, but then his scholar brain gets the better of him. WWX had made a point, he was woefully unprepared, and so with the intention of finding points to throw in that little brat’s face, he braces himself for horrible outlandish untraditional family-breaking nastiness, plus whatever else WWX might have put in there (ancestors if that horrid boy sent him PORN he’ll have him expelled) and opens the links.

He finds a bunch of actual helpful websites.

Definitions for all the names, labels, flags. Helpful tips for understanding yourself. Pictures of couples holding hands, smiling happily.

“Love isn’t just for procreation.”

Resources for kids who’s parents kicked them out. Survival tips. Unsafe areas.

And, because I’m personally a big fan of Demisexual WWX, a whole bunch of websites on the Asexual spectrum. You know, where people say, “oh yeah, apparently other people actually DO feel that urge to have sex with people. The songs aren’t making stuff up y’all. We’re just built different.”

LQR: nani tf?

Thus begins a confused deep dive into asexuality, what it means, allosexuals and all that jazz. LQR actually does end up asking a question on one of the sites, something like:

“I always believed that people who allowed themselves to be lustful and fall into bed with others were simply unrestrained. Is it true that some people feel an actual need for this? I have felt attraction for a woman before, but I never felt the need that some popular media attests to.”

There’s a bunch of replies, but one sticks out to LQR:

“Gonna be crude for a sec, excuse me- did you actually want to bang her? Or were you friends and heteronormative society insisted that boys and girls gotta want to fuck?”

LQR, who as a young man looked at CSSR and thought “If I have to marry, I wouldn’t mind her”: 🤯🤯🤯

Oh no.

He has to face that smirking little brat WWX.

#lan qiren #wei wuixan #wangxian #ace lan qiren #demisexual wangxian #mdzs fanfiction #mdzs prompt #modern mdzs

[archiveikemen]

Ellis Twilight Main Story: Chapter 3

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Warnings and FAQ

Ellis: Bodyguards?

At breakfast, Victor was talking about the unexpected incident that occured during my first job as the “fairytale keeper”.

Victor: That’s right! If Jude and Ellis protect Kate, our secrets will be kept safe too.

Victor: At the same time, Kate will also be able to observe the two of you up close and write everything down in her records…

Victor: It’s like killing two birds with one stone!

Victor: What do you think, Ellis?

Ellis: I’m fine with it if Kate is.

Ellis: Just because no one was hurt yesterday doesn't mean that sort of thing won't happen again… I want to be by Kate's side in case.

Victor smiled in response to Ellis and turned to Jude.

Victor: Of course you'll take this new responsibility seriously, right, Jude? You hate doing favours, don't you?

Jude: Tch…

(I feel safe being near Ellis, but…)

Ever since having my life threatened because I was with Ellis and being mistaken for “Jude Jazza’s woman”, I couldn't help but feel wary of Jude.

Jude: Don’t you start wailing when you get caught in a scary situation, princess.

(He’s so intimidating… but this was a good suggestion from Victor, so I mustn't chicken out.)

Kate: I’ll be fine. I’m surprisingly tough!

Jude: … Hah.

Jude snorted and went back to reading the newspaper.

Ellis: Then it’s decided. I’m looking forward to working with you, Kate.

Kate: I look forward to working with you too.

Unlike Jude, Ellis returned a soft smile.

Ellis: By the way, you can be more casual with me.

Kate: Huh…?

Ellis: You could say “yeah, me too” or something.

Kate: Y-Yeah… me too.

Ellis: Mm, much better.

I felt comforted by Ellis’ warm vibes.

Victor: Administrative matters aside, now let’s talk about your mission.

I straightened my back and listened attentively to Victor’s words.

(This will be my first real job as the fairytale keeper.)

I bear in mind that this was important in helping me gain their trust.

Victor: — Truth is, there is something I want you to collect information on.

Victor: It’s regarding the series of kidnapping cases happening all over London.

Kate: Kidnapping…?

That dangerous word brought back the same anxiousness I felt when I met the members of Crown for the first time.

Victor: Correct. The victims’ ages ranged from infants, to adolescents, and even grown adults.

Victor: One thing they have in common is that the adults were either prostitutes or street performers.

Victor: Popular songstresses from taverns have gone missing… many of them lived unstable lives without proper residential addresses.

Jude: Because the victims weren't people of high importance and mostly didn't have fixed addresses, no one reported them missing.

Jude: As usual, the police aren’t going to do anything about it either.

Unfortunately, like Jude mentioned, people who worked in the entertainment district were often looked down upon.

In that world of glitz and glamour, they were treated like pieces of trash in a garbage dump.

Victor: So, about the mission…

Victor: Have you heard about the ongoing art fair in London, the one with a few performers gathered there?

Kate: Yes. The scale of the event is not as big as the social season, but it’s rather crowded.

Victor: I want Jude and Ellis to go to that art fair and collect the necessary information.

Victor: These people may be vagrants, but they’re more bonded than you think.

Jude: Why do I have to go? This is useless.

Victor: Remember the human traffickers you dealt with in private? They might be connected to this case.

Victor: This has gone too far, don’t you think? Besides… today's your first day off in a long time.

That sounded like information Victor wouldn't be aware of, unless someone told him. Jude shot a glare at someone…

Jude: … Ellis.

Ellis: He asked, so I answered honestly. Sorry.

(The power balance between these two might surprisingly be of equal level…)

Victor: See you!

Victor sent us off with his cheerful voice and we headed for our mission.

…

(The fair is even more crowded this time round…!)

Colourfully decorated stalls lined the venue of the art fair and delicious aromas wafted through the air.

The people were entertained by not only the food, but also the street artists painting and performers showcasing their talents on stages around the city.

Walking around the fair, I couldn't help feeling immersed in the lively atmosphere.

(Oh no, I’m getting too carried away… I must focus on our mission.)

(Right. I should ask him now.)

Kate: Ellis. Jude. Could you tell me about your curses?

Ellis: We haven't told you yet?

Ellis: I have the curse of the “Briar Bushes”, and Jude has the curse of the “13th Fairy”.

Ellis: They’re based on a motif called “The Thorn Princess (Sleeping Beauty)”.

(Curse of the briar bushes and the curse of a fairy…)

The 13th fairy was an antagonist who placed a deadly curse on the princess out of spite for not being invited to her birthday party.

(I know that's the fairy’s sin, but…)

(What sin did the briar bushes commit?)

As I thought hard about it, Jude suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned around languidly.

Jude: We don’t need a party of three. You go in the other direction to search for information.

Ellis: What about protecting Kate?

Jude: You’ll be fine doing that alone.

Without another word, Jude disappeared into the sea of people.

Kate: … Does he hate me, by any chance?

Ellis: I don’t think so, he treats everyone like that.

Ellis: His intention was probably to protect you from danger by avoiding being seen with you.

(Hmm, I don't really think so…)

I swallowed those words that I almost blurted out.

Kate: … If that’s the case, he’s actually rather kind-hearted, isn't he?

Ellis: I wouldn't say that. He loves hearing the people he hates scream in pain.

Kate: …

(It scares me how easy it is to imagine that…)

Ellis was the total opposite of him, showing kindness to everyone he met.

As though to prove me right, people all around us started approaching him the moment Jude left.

Flushed Man: Oh, you over there! Thanks for taking care of me that day!

Ellis: You’re welcome. Remember to drink in moderation today.

Kate: This is…?

Ellis: I found him passed out on the streets the other day, so I piggybacked him home. I don't know his name.

Kate: Eh!?

(You brought a random stranger home and nursed him back to health!?)

That wasn’t the only thing that left me in shock—.

Furniture Artisan: Business has been booming thanks to Ellis promoting my works to people!

Bespectacled Student: I’m so glad to run into you again! Um, I’d like to repay you for helping me fix my bike, could I have your contact information…

Cat: Nyaa.

(Even a CAT thanked him…!?)

(Or should I say, judging from the number of people who thanked him as we passed by…)

I could tell that Ellis did many good deeds on a daily basis.

Kate: I’m a postwoman, and yet you’re even more well-known than I am…!

Ellis: Really? I think this is pretty normal, though.

Ellis smiled gleefully as he watched the people smiling around him.

(Everything Ellis did for me yesterday is without a doubt just a usual thing for him.)

Someone who spreads joy.

Watching Ellis’ interactions with the people in town brought those words to my mind.

(Does someone like him even have any “sins” I can record down…?)

(Rather—)

(Why would someone this kind-hearted work for an assassination organisation or with Jude?)

Despite having personally witnessed his kindness… that question surfaced in my mind.

Ellis: Kate, Kate.

Kate: … Oh, I’m so sorry! I got lost in thought.

I came back to my senses and noticed Ellis peering into my face up close with his head tilted in puzzlement…

Ellis: Were you thinking about me?

Kate: …!?

Our eyes met at a close distance like a pair of lovers gazing at each other, sending my heart into a frenzy.

(Ellis doesn't seem to be conscious of it, but… this is too close.)

The situation was the same as when he went to see me in my room the morning after I came to Crown’s castle.

It was the second time seeing his twilight coloured eyes up close.

Feeling my cheeks turn red from the embarrassment, I turned my eyes away from him.

Ellis: Ah, hit the nail on the head.

Kate: How did you know?

Ellis: Hmm… just a hunch, I guess?

Ellis handed me a steaming mug with a smile.

Ellis: Here, I bought this milk tea from that shop over there while you were lost in thought about me.

Ellis: This is to thank you for helping me with my mail the other day.

(... Ellis is awesome…)

Ellis’ eyelashes lowered and he lightly blew on the cup of milk tea before taking a sip.

Ellis: If there’s anything you want to ask me, feel free to.

Kate: … Understood.

Ellis: Just “okay” is good.

Kate: … Ellis, why did you join Crown?

Ellis: Victor recruited Jude to join Crown, then Jude said OK and I joined too, I guess?

(You joined just because Jude did…?)

Kate: Why are you always with Jude?

Ellis: You have many questions, huh.

Ellis smiled and held his mug in both hands.

Ellis: My life was a mess before I met Jude. I moved from place to place, never having anywhere to settle down.

Ellis: When I came to London, I met Jude by coincidence.

Ellis: Some stuff happened, and we made a deal.

Kate: A deal…?

Ellis: That I’ll work for Jude, and he’ll comply with my request in return.

Ellis: So… we’ll be sticking together until the time comes when he fulfils his side of the deal.

My next question gave me a feeling that something might happen if I heard the answer, causing a stir in my chest.

Kate: What request did you make…?

Ellis: It's—

Performer with Flashy Hat: What is going on!?

(...!?)

The sudden yelling made me jump in shock and look in its direction.

Behind us, in the back of a temporary stage, a performer was scratching his head in distress.

Performer with Flashy Hat: Two people can’t make it for the performance… this is a DISASTER…!

(Two people… two performers… could it be?)

Kate: Ellis.

Ellie: … Yeah.

— “The victims of the serial kidnappings were often prostitutes or street performers”.

We exchanged looks and headed towards the distressed performer.

…

Kate: Um, excuse me.

Flashy Hat: Hm? Oh. My apologies, Miss, but my show has been postponed by another 10 minutes!

Ellis: We heard you saying just now that two people can’t make it to the show…

Flashy Hat: My buddy who is supposed to perform with me has gone missing without a word.

Flashy Hat: Geez, lots of people have been disappearing into thin air lately… it’s starting to get suspicious.

(Multiple people… going missing…)

(If we ask this person more about the disappearances, we might find something.)

Ellis: If it's alright with you, could you please tell us more?

Flashy Hat: Sorry, but I really don't have the time for that right now! Even if I have to do it alone, I must think of what to perform up on stage.

The performer shooed us away… but stopped and looked at us again as though he had just gotten an idea.

Flashy Hat: If you guys help me out with the show, that’ll be a whole other story.

Flashy Hat: Haha! I’m just kidding. Being short-handed is one thing, but it's a strict rule to never allow amateurs on stage.

He shook his head, seemingly to dismiss his suggestion as an impulsive one.

Ellis took a step closer.

Ellis: Help? What kind?

Flashy Hat: Haha! You’re serious about this? I was merely joking.

Ellis: But you said that you’ll tell us the details if we help you, didn't you?

Flashy Hat: … What? Hey man, you guys got a problem or something?

His friendly face twisted.

Flashy Hat: Giving out information about my buddies puts them in danger.

Flashy Hat: I can’t guarantee that you two don't have ill intentions. We're strangers that just met.

Kate: How can we earn your trust?

Flashy Hat: Let me think…

Flashy Hat: If you guys are willing to be used as a target for knife throwing, or tied up and thrown into a tank…

Flashy Hat: I’ll trust you.

(Target for knife throwing…!?)

Ellis: Okay. I’m good at that stuff.

Ellis unhesitatingly proceeded with the negotiations while I stood there, baffled.

(Ellis is so confident when it comes to negotiations. It must’ve come from his experience in working with Jude…)

Ellis agreed to help the performer with the show, but negotiations didn't go as we expected.

Flashy Hat: Tch tch tch… you alone isn’t going to be enough. That lady has to help out too.

Kate: Wha…!?

Ellis: … Why?

Flashy Hat: Perform, of course!

Flashy Hat: Just think of it. A tragic story about lovers being torn apart, building up and coming to a tear-jerking finale! The audience will definitely love it.

(... Knife throwing… being tied up in a tank…)

Ellis looked at me worriedly when he noticed my face turning pale.

Ellis: Kate, you don’t have to do it if you don't want to.

(Victor has done this knife throwing thing before, so Ellis will be fine with that.)

My physical abilities were nowhere nearly as good as Ellis’, and yet…

Whether or not we would get information from that person depended on me.

(I have to trust them and just go for it…)

Kate: V-Very well. I’ll help.

Letter

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil main story #ellis main story #ellis twilight

[foulbearobservation]

(alright you all picked the otter emoji so here's a little excerpt that I rly like)

“I’m pretty sure my arm is broken.” She’s honestly not feeling too bad, whatever pills Mary had made her dry swallow earlier are making her super woozy which is great, because it means she can’t throw up at the sight of her mangled arm, but bad, because she always gets talkative when she’s on pain medication.

“Yeah no shit.” Mary scoffs. “What gave you that idea?”

“Bone sticking out.” Lilith gestures with her good arm.

Mary smiles briefly at her terrible joke before her grin twists into a sympathetic grimace. “Yeah girl we’re gonna need to get that back inside you at some point. Aren’t your bones supposed to be hallow or some shit, did that come with the wings?”

“Birds bones,” Lilith coughs weakly, no blood this time, so she’ll take the win, “aren’t hallow, they just have air pockets in them.”

Mary situates her arm closer to her chest, lining it up for what is no doubt about to be painful. She doesn’t ask Lilith to keep talking, but it will probably be better for them both if she does.

“My bones aren’t hallow yet. Or if they are, they sure don’t feel like it.” Lilith avoids crying out as Mary pops her shoulder back into place, just barely. “Maybe my bones are like otters.” She’s definitely delirious, but Mary is here and helping fight her arm back into a somewhat human shape, so she doesn’t really mind all that much.

"Otters have really dense bones,” Lilith doesn’t cry as there’s another sick snap as Mary puts her back together, “at least Eurasian otters do.” She drifts off for a moment, but Mary brings her back by tapping on her cheek repeatedly.

Mary sighs. “You’re gonna pull a Beatrice on me aren’t you?” Lilith nods and, she might be imagining this, but Mary seems to smile at that. “Go on then, tell me about otter bones.”

“Eurasian otters?” Mary sits back, her job evidently done now that Lilith’s bones are all more or less where they need to be and more or less as dense as they were before.

“You’re just trying to get me to talk so I don’t fall asleep.” Lilith accuses.

Mary holds up her hands in surrender. “You got me, Camila says she’s five minutes out. I’m trying to get you to stay awake so that I don’t get in trouble when she gets back.”

“Are you scared of Camila?”

Mary just gives her a deadpan look. “What’s this about Eurasian otters?” Mary gently prompts her back on track, well acquainted with the way Lilith (and Beatrice, because she had to learn this trait from somewhere) will ramble when she should be passed out due to pain.

“They have dense bones, something to make them less,” Lilith squints for a second, the harsh overhead bathroom light causing stars to erupt behind her eyes, “buoyant. Lots of aquatic animals do, though, including most types of otters.”

“I didn’t know you were so into aquatic wildlife, Lily.” Mary reaches over and shoves on her not-recently-broken shoulder gently. “I didn’t know there were otters over here as well, I thought they were mostly a North American thing.”

Lilith shakes her head. “Everyone just knows North American river otters because they’re cute and like to play with people.”

“And the European otters are assholes?” Mary laughs. “That about tracks.”

Lilith nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, with Eurasian otters the female will fight off her mate after the pups are born. It’s kinda hardcore.”

Mary scoffs. “Of course you’d like the asshole otters.”

“What does that mean?” Lilith tries to sit up but finds she still doesn’t have the strength, so she settles for glaring instead.

“It’s just very you,” Mary muses, “a cute little otter who is secretly a massive fuckin’ asshole.” Mary takes advantage of Lilith’s immobility to boop her on the nose gently. “Very on brand for you.”

“Nobody in the history of ever has called me cute or little.” Lilith scowls.

“Untrue, you’re cute and I tell you so all the time.” Camila’s voice is suddenly in the bathroom door, and Lilith didn’t even hear their front door open, she must be more out of it than she thought. “Whether you choose to listen to me or not is another story.”

#this ones for my childhood best friend who fucking loved otters and talked abt them all the time #this is for u brady #tb3 #listen. I just think lilith should have a cute fuzzy favorite animal that she infodumps about when she's on pain medication #AND I'M RIGHT FOR THAT

[foxingpeculiar]

More Disco Elysium (definitely spoilers):

I have, at this point, completed one in-game day.

So, some interesting shit, both on its own and when considered in combination: 1) talking to the dead body. Did not expect that. I read this more of an abstraction—Harry (apparently) talking to himself, or whatever it is that’s in his head. 2) Only got to the title card when I opened the ledger. I honestly thought I’d died for a second and the game had restarted---we went back to that “reptilian brain/limbic system” conversation space from the opening, what happens when Harry passes out, I guess. But like, okay. What that basically confirms for me is something I already sort of suspected; the murder is, to at least some degree, incidental to whatever the actual story is here. The real story is whatever’s going on with Harry.

Which, okay, hold on. Given the sort of ambiguous ontology re: the real world that I was talking about last time, makes me wonder…This is a dream, isn’t it? Or something like that. Something not quite “real,” in the traditional sense. So the two stories are kind of one story—all the shit going on in this world re: racism/labor/disco somehow reflects the more personal story. Harry did make an explicit connection between himself and the body (or the body did, I’m not sure, but like… that’s what I mean). I dunno. I’m spitballing here, maybe they aren’t going that far with it, but this line of thinking is encouraging me to try and find parallels/connections in a way I wasn’t before, so I’m rollin’ it around in the ol’ noggin’ for the moment (you might say I have it equipped to one of my thought slots…)

(I have some more “what if, though” ideas that spin out from that, but they’re wild speculation still at this point.)

But more in-world mystery stuff.. the fuck was Call Me Mañana talking about when he said “Thank him [Cuno] for showing me the *way.*” What way? What does that mean? It’s an odd thing to say. It didn’t let me ask about that, but like…  There is a part of me that thinks maybe Cuno is just building himself up, just messing with me. But then this comes along. It reenforces the feeling that that kid has some SHIT up his sleeve. Also, what’s CMM’s deal? Why did Joyce hear about the lynching from HIM? He says he doesn’t work in a gatekeeping capacity, but like… what capacity DOES he work in?

Got into the apartments, tracking down the smoking fellow. Apparently I have to come back tomorrow? (Still on the first day.) But who is his “friend?” Also, the dead guy has stars tattooed all over him and now there’s an astrologer with a padlocked door? Hm. Also Either 1) the cleaning lady is lying about Apt 10, or… something else is happening. Something, perhaps not dissimilar from Harry speaking to voices? Or it’s squatters, I guess. Either way, not sure what to do with that information yet, but noted.

Cindy’s pretty rad. At least, based on that first interaction. Also lol @ “the subject’s evident hostility to her interviewer” in the profile of C.S. in the communist magazine, cos yeah, I can see that. So she’s not a fan of pigs or communists… and she talks about bringing a little chaos to town… hm. The more I think about that, the more I’m getting like the Spock-eyebrow about it.

Did Cuonoesse just quote Snoop Dogg at me?

Bird’s Nest Roy said something about “The Man from Hjelmdall” being “an ontological necessity.” The story has made it so that he exists. Like, I feel like he’s telling me something about the nature of this world, you know?

OH MY GOD I FINALLY MADE THE STUPID JUMP DOWN TO THE COAT. Just had to take 2 points in Savoir Faire, find new pants and a sweaty tanktop, and take off my shoes. Yeesh. Good, though. I didn’t wanna have to deal with Measurehead anymore. But, of course, by the time I got there, it was after 22:00.

So I’m talking to the Bloated Corpse of a Drunk, and ask him what Elysium is, because… I would like to know that. I’m trying to make sense of his answer. But he also says “You were just talking to yourself. That’s all you ever do. Even in your dreams. And the act is wearing thin, the spots of the disco ball fade around you.” Which like, comes back to the whole “this whole thing is a dream, or maybe a dying mind unraveling its trauma, Mulholland Drive style, or something” hypothesis. (Why did the car tell me it’s “at the bottom of the sea?”) But what does it mean that “four point six billion people—and you failed every one of them?” Is that hyperbole or…?

Annnnd I wound up my play session by accidentally agreeing to find some speed, but… I mean, who hasn’t accidentally agreed to find and ingest some powerful drugs, amirite?

#video games #disco elysium #gameblogging

[raichett]

2 prompts (you don’t have to do both I just couldn’t decide which cause I liked both of these fics lol)

cosmic cat-astrophe: how does Jellie settle into life aboard the Monopoly with Scar and Grian?

or

it’s not quite narnia: how is the Vex king taking to the new (cute) human gatekeeper?

Went with the first prompt as I have another asker after more "Well It's Not Quite Narnia, But -"

This flash fic can be found as the second chapter in my fic Cosmic Cat-astrophe on AO3.

–

NEST

Jellie, despite looking very much like a slightly-too-large domestic cat, is not, in fact, a cat. Like, at all. Scar knew this, of course – the sight of her eating that giant rock snake thing whole is kind of hard to forget – but sometime between bringing her on board the Monopoly and now, he’d managed to get comfortable enough that the sight before him is throwing him a little.

“I think it’s a nest,” Grian remarks, poking at the edge of it. Jellie, curled proudly in the centre, rumbles a sound that’s a bit too growly to be a purr, but is pretty much the same thing. Not aggressive, at any rate.

“I liked this waistcoat,” Scar says, sadly, tugging at the edge of a rich red velvet number he’s had for years, now twisted and entwined in the nest made of clothes Jellie has built in the back of one of the storerooms. It doesn’t pull free, and Scar gives it up when Jellie’s eyes flash, unwilling to make her unhappy.

“Yeah, well. I don’t think you’re getting it back.” Grian reaches out and strokes Jellie’s soft head. “You had us hunting for weeks for our missing things,” he accuses her. “We would have gotten you fabrics and stuff at the last spaceport if we knew you wanted them.”

Jellie butts her head up into his palm, kneading her little claws – black, not pale like an Earth cat – into the nest contentedly. She leans down to bite at one of the sleeves in the bottom of the nest, pulling it up and across her front paws, burying her nose in it.

“Is it the scent?” Scar wonders. “Like, she wants our things ‘cause they’re ours?”

“Maybe.” Grian scratches behind Jellie’s ears. “But this is definitely a nest – she’s not a bird, though. I think some mammals make nests; mice and the like.”

“Gri, I don’t think Jellie can be called a mammal,” Scar replies, lightly teasing, watching Jellie yawn at the scratches and expose teeth that really aren’t quite… right. “In fact, I distinctly remember lots of tentacles. You know, I don’t think it really matters; she’s got a nest and that’s that. We’ll just have to go clothes shopping when we meet up with Scott and Jimmy again.”

“Oh, goodness, Scott and Jimmy,” Grian groans. “This is going to be one heck of a tale. Okay, okay – Jellie? In the next few days we’re going to meet up with a couple of friends of ours, and I’m going to need you not to eat them. I know Jimmy looks tasty, and he squeals a lot, but he’s not prey, okay? You got that?”

Jellie mrrows in response. Scar rubs the underside of her fluffy chin with one finger, watching as she leans into him, her eyes slipping closed, as close to blissed out as a cat – or cat-like being – can get. “I think that’s the best we’re gonna get,” he says.

“Jimmy’s gonna freak out no matter what,” Grian sighs. “They were talking about getting a cat – a real one – next time they ended up near Earth. He loves them – they both do.”

“Perfect!” Scar beams. “Jellie can make a friend. You know, I’m still pretty sure she came with us because she was lonely on that asteroid. The giant space rock snake things were not the best conversationalists, she tells me.”

Grian rolls his eyes. “If she starts actually telling you anything, I would be – something. Don’t know what, but something.”

“You’ll be the first to know if Jellie starts revealing eldritch knowledge,” Scar promises. “But until then, I think I should go get her dinner. She’s developed a liking for toast and scrambled egg. She’s becoming a lady of culture.”

“Toast and scrambled egg is culture?” Grian asks, sceptically. “It’s just standard breakfast food.”

“When we next get the chance I’m seeing if she likes salmon, too,” Scar says. “Then it really will be cultured.”

“Change the eggs from scrambled to poached and you’re on the right track,” Grian retorts. He stands up from his kneel on the floor next to Jellie’s nest, popping his back and rolling his shoulders. “Happy to hear she’s expanded from eating all of our raw meat, though.”

“Variety is the spice of life.” Scar stands up, too, slower than Grian and more carefully. His knees ache something fierce and he thinks longingly of the painkillers in the medicine box back in their quarters. “Stay here and take a nap, Jellie,” he coos down at her. “We’ll see you later.” It’s likely, at least: Jellie has grown fond of sleeping at the end of their bed.

She purrs at them in agreement, low and growly and content, and Scar and Grian leave her to her nap.

#flash fic #my writing #scarian #hermitshipping #ask

[hyenahunt]

Saga: Rivals - 16

Writer: Akira

Season: Winter

Characters: Tori, Hokuto, Chiaki

Proofreading: moricchiichan (JP) & Peace (ENG)

Translation: kotofucius

Hokuto: The look on Akehoshi’s face at that time… I’d sooner rip my heart out of my own chest than ever seeing him make that face again.

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: Soundproof Lesson Room

Tori: So Eichi-sama took a stand to make a change last year, right?

With fine under his lead, and probably Vice-Prez as his partner-in-crime…

Even using dirty methods he probably wished to hide from me, he wriggled out his hands to reach out for a revolution.

Hokuto: Yes. Trickstar wasn’t the first revolutionary; there was a story with the Student President as the main character before us.

There, I was a villain to be trampled on… Or rather, just one of the villain’s minions, a mook.

Tori: I’d say “Aren’t you still a mook?” …But I know that’s not right.

Anyway, maybe it’s because he was afraid he wouldn’t live long enough to see tomorrow, but Eichi-sama’s revolution was apparently super hasty, wasn’t it?

Like performing surgery with a chainsaw, as Yuzuru put it.

His goal was met, but it was so dangerous that of course there were victims from it.

Hokuto: Yes, and the prime victims were the Five Eccentrics.

Tori: Right… He framed them as villains responsible for everything.

Promoting his cause as just to unify people under him and gain support, he “subjugated” those villains afterwards.

That’s probably something that's happened in every country’s history… But it’s really atrocious, isn’t it. I'm shivering just imagining myself in their shoes.

Not that I’m one to talk, supporting fine and swallowing their pretty words whole.

Chiaki: I’m the same. I almost believed it right until the end. That justice also existed in this world… That they represented it.

Until I got deeply involved with Kanata…

I believed that the screaming, bloody mess being eradicated in front of me was a fictional evil monster, looking away from the reality that they were human beings; crying, laughing, and living as I do.

If that’s something to be blamed for, then I’m just as sinful, Himemiya.

Tori: Mm, that’s not it… I think it’s incredible of fine, of Prez and his group, to make me believe the whole time that their story was a story of good versus evil.

I can’t imitate that. I don’t want to, either.

Even so, fine kindled a new light inside the dark age. That isn’t a lie.

They resurrected the idol industry, when it had been fading fast since Sagami-sensei’s retirement.

No. Just to achieve that, they made sacrifices and fought.

But Eichi-sama was worn down and got hospitalized in the end, so things were put to a stop there, right?

Hokuto: …They’ve received proper punishment for their atrocities. No — They’re still atoning.

I can understand, as a sentiment, that there are certain things that can never be forgiven.

But the Five Eccentrics have all gotten back on their feet, while fine and the student council are looking towards the future, doing the best they can without giving in.

All so the idol industry wouldn’t wither away… So idols in general wouldn’t have to vanish from this world.

And most of all, so we could all shine even more than before.

Tori: Yeah. I think everything’s going in a good direction now. From here on out, the shining, brilliant era of idols is starting anew, isn’t it?

I want to believe that, at least. If not, it’s just too… tragic. It would mean the blood spilled from the people who got hurt, the sacrifices made, were all for nothing.

Hokuto: True. We’re both in the vortex of it all, as Trickstar and fine, so it can be hard to get a bird's eye view of the whole picture…

But as you said, Himemiya. The painful efforts and sacrifices made by our predecessors are opening up the path to a bright future.

What the top brass of CosPro did in SS was something foolish that could’ve destroyed it.

Something that could’ve tossed our world into hell. Reversing the hand of the clock back to the past would’ve rewarded no one.

It almost brought idols to an end… Even if that’s saying too much, it would’ve undeniably stagnated and sunk this era further into darkness.

Chiaki: Yeah. Even if they succeeded with their plot in SS…

All it could’ve brought them was temporary solace from getting back at the idols they loathed.

Hokuto: Father told us about their motive.

They must’ve really loathed idols. That’s just natural; they spent years being trampled, forced to serve us.

But that doesn’t right their wrongs.

The look on Akehoshi’s face at that time… I’d sooner rip my heart out of my own chest than ever seeing him make that face again.

Chiaki: Yeah… I was holding live shows and doing promotions to support you guys back then, but…

I couldn’t stop thinking about throwing it all aside to rush to Akehoshi’s aid.

I kept asking myself, “Why aren’t I an all-powerful superhero?”... I felt so powerless. I don’t want to experience that again…

Maybe a world where we don’t have to hate and hurt each other, a world only filled with love, is just a pipe dream…

But it’s the goal I aim for. And I believe that you guys feel the same.

Tori: Yup. Having more kind people will brighten the world little by little…

Ehehe. We keep making it all grand and about the world, when really it’s just idol business.

Hokuto: Fufu. That’s just the way it is; we’re all living in the same world. Essentially, these things concern every last one of us.

Chiaki: Yup. Also, a tokusatsu creator once said that although talking openly about the world or about love may be embarrassing…

Cushioning it with something else allows people to discuss it without shame.

That was about tokusatsu, but in our case, I think the cushion is the idol industry. So let’s exchange our views without constraint… All of us idols, together.

Tori: Yeah. Together. I think that’s the sort of era it’ll be from now on…

God died and the kings lost their authority, making our world a democracy. All of us are gonna have to poke around for a better future together now.

Chiaki: Yeah. Well, but even without us wearing our brains out, I bet Tenshouin has some grand scheme prepared already.

Hokuto: And my father, too. I get that impression from the way he spoke.

The idol industry, Yumenosaki Academy, CosPro, and Project-Saga… Just what sort of vision do they have in mind?

Chiaki: Hmm… Somehow, I feel like the groups that had been operating separately are finally uniting after arguing so much behind the scenes…

…And are trying to progress “the entire sphere” once they’ve gotten things in order.

Tori: Eh, what do you mean? Explain so I can understand!

Chiaki: Each one of us alone can’t become God, but we can make the same miracles happen if we unite… or more like…

Sorry, I didn’t exactly have anything concrete in mind.

Hokuto: Hmm. Well, it’s irritating to be moved around like pawns, so we should keep working our minds and speculate.

Tori: Yeah. The winners are always those who can steer the winds, so we should stay privy to the state of affairs. But without ignoring the work in front of us, obviously.

Chiaki: Fuhaha. That’s the most important thing, actually.

All we humble citizens can do is tackle our duties with everything we have. As for complex issues — Let’s just leave them to our politicians to think about.

But at the same time —

When their ruling takes an obviously wrong turn, we should all learn from Trickstar and incite a revolution.

Hokuto: Yeah. I have experience; leave it to me.

Tori: Talk about barbaric… As a member of Stuco, I’m leaning more on the politician side, so…

Maybe I should nip these seeds of rebellion before they bud? …Just kidding ♪

[ ☆ ]

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#ensemble stars #enstars #enstars translation #hyenahunttl #s: saga #hokuto hidaka #chiaki morisawa #tori himemiya

[dayofkaryn]

2seok 33

"I'd like to buy you a drink," says a deep voice at Hoseok's elbow.

"No thanks."

He stares at his current glass more intently, trying to keep his face neutral. He'd come to this bar specifically because it wasn't a pickup place, because he really just wanted to have a quiet moment to himself after a long day.

But the guy doesn't take the hint. "You should at least check me out first."

"I'm good," says Hoseok. "Thanks all the same."

"Think about what you're missing out on."

"I always do," says Hoseok.

"I'm a great guy."

Hoseok shrugs. "Still not interested."

"Damn," the guy says, and Hoseok frowns. The voice is a little different, a little… "If you'd just looked up I would have sailed in there. I'm very handsome, you know."

Hoseok rolls his eyes, smiling against his will as he finally looks over. The man next to him grins broadly and brushes his hair out of his eyes as he sits down. And he is very handsome, just as advertised.

"Seokjin," says Hoseok. "What are you doing here?"

"A little bird told me you might need a friend," says Seokjin.

"Who -" says Hoseok, then sighs. "Jimin."

"Jimin!" says Seokjin. "He couldn't come himself, so he sent me. And now I've learned that I can't actually pick up anyone in the world, which is a real blow to my resume."

He says it lightly, as a joke, but Hoseok flushes with embarrassment anyway. "Sorry about that."

"About what?" says Seokjin.

"Being rude," says Hoseok. "I didn't know it was you, but still."

Seokjin's smile fades. "You can be rude to anyone you want when they're pushing something on you that you don't want. Especially in bars, and especially me."

"Yeah," says Hoseok. "That's true."

"Men are shit!" says Seokjin, pounding his fist before signaling for his own drink.

That's good distraction for Hoseok, because mostly he agrees but when it comes to Seokjin he doesn't agree at all. And he's been wondering if there's something there, which Jimin well knows and is almost certainly why he sent Seokjin over, and now Hoseok's accidentally blown him off.

He pulls out his phone and text Jimin some threatening emojis, berating him for not warning him, and Jimin predictably sends him a bunch of sex ones back and no apology at all.

"So, do you actually want to be alone?" asks Seokjin. "Jimin says you can't be trusted to drink alone, but you seem pretty smart to me."

"No, it's fine," says Hoseok. "Though I don't know about smart."

"Oh I do," says Seokjin. "Handsome, too."

"Stop it," says Hoseok, laughing. "I don't need a pep talk."

"I disagree!" says Seokjin. "You don't give yourself nearly enough, from what I've seen. I know we've only known each other for a few weeks, but I can tell the amount of compliments you give out versus the compliments you get is way out of proportion."

Hoseok considers. "I don't think so. I mean, people are nice to me."

"Nice to you? Nice to you?" says Seokjin, pounding his fist again. "That's tremendously inadequate! You should be at a hundred to one ratio of receiving to giving, Jung Hoseok! Nice isn't going to cut it around here. And if those slackers out there aren't going to do it, then I will."

"Oh my god, please don't," says Hoseok, but he can feel the pleasure spreading across his face.

Seokjin rolls up his sleeves and sits up perfectly straight. "If you'd accepted my drink perhaps I'd listen, but I can only be rejected once a night or I get a complex. Now, first, you are very tidy. Dirt stands no chance against you. Second, the fashion. The fashion is key! I don't understand it but you always look great. Third -"

Hoseok tries to duck away, rubbing the back of his neck, but Seokjin reaches out and grasps it gently. When Hoseok looks up he's closer, and Seokjin's eyes are kind.

"How many more do you have lined up?" says Hoseok, resigned.

"As many as it takes, of course," says Seokjin.

"That could take all night."

"Maybe. But for you?" says Seokjin. "I have all the time in the world, Jung Hoseok."

#bts drabbles #spotify meme #writing

[your-local-darklord]

Ah yes I would be interested in that.

[thoughts of the one made of Ink]

“Oh fuck oh shit I said to much, can I please not screw this up this is the fourth cult I’m in that I wiling joined umm I destroyed one which was called the peanut butter cult , dipped from one or it disbanded the mayonnaise cult, forced into one which is the editor cult that I’m still apart of as a janitor, and lastly this one the lambs cult that in” “ said a lot” “sigh I can’t cry or want to scream out but I’m just trying my best to change from a being that wanted just violence and nothing more sure that sus” “the things they did I did back to them with no mercy given how cold as I stared unblinking at them until I rip something out of them” “so calm and yet a broken mess they just couldn’t stop and some really didn’t deserve what happened to them guilt lamb regrets & guilt” “they have called me a monster, a freak of nature, I didn’t deserve this or wanted this, I was not given a choice about it and so here I am the one you may call supuh as my old name but not forgotten but I prefer being called the one made of ink as a reminder of what I am and who I am now” “I see things that other can’t, I can feel their pain even thought I don’t know what wrong,

[them just coming to terms with it and also trying to speak to other who may say other wise ]

to those that may find me disturbing, creepy, unhinged, a freak, that not what I want to be know as. I look as thought I can unalive someone and get away with. Quite and left alone and very distance from other to the point of isolation, I don’t want to hurt anyone or get to close i can’t touch anyone without risky them going though total shock from my cold touch “the lamb and a few others however can be touch and I have no clue why that that is” something else i had no choice to endured while i was a human before and now with ink. Companion I have to watch over me so I don’t completely lose myself to it. I may do strange thing that are just wrong like the strange looking birds, the eye thinging, the crown I supposedly have now, the companion that are with me and we’re they came from. I am obedient and willing to do thing without question but, those that are by my side that I have freed only listen to my command given to them they just need to follow the rules that all “unless otherwise but very unlikely for them to switch side” I have these pulls out two orbs, one glowing a dark hazel purple with ink strands over it and the other one glowing a light pink same thing with the ink strands, These keep me alive, hard to find and break but I don’t relie on them I have other ways of staying alive. Hmm, you guess it follower regeneration and supposedly points to the companies they also can do something to assist me. Right the two orbs seem to have been pulled by the ink strands back into her yeah, dont worry they’re for another use but, those threats aren’t really found here so, no point in using it but, I’m willing to show that yes, I have these because I’m willing to trust you guys with knowing about it and the lamb aswell.

they stand up.... well, that all for now about me and what not. I talk to much but I enjoy it. Hope it make you guys not terriblely afraid of me hopefully or did I make it worst somehow? It better for it to be knows now rather than later. Good day

[as they and their floating companion go back to what they been doing, when they got here watching the crops and per-curiously ridding the bird problem to a current degree because as she put it]

Something is coming and I don’t know what it wants. and why it wants those bloody seeds or trying to take people without no reason. How I know that, points to the strange looking bird that lands on their arm this, it been relaying info to me and I pass it on telapathicly to other follower that have returned after encountering the birds and to the lamb of course. And those eye things aswell, watching the outskirts of the camp if that concerning to you I’m sorry.

[They turn to look over at the trees in the distance]

(Telepathically messages everyone it is in unknow entitie that shape like a bird it also seem to not be alone.)

Again I have met some entities some good, some bad but this one well, who knows actually it full intentions. we should wait for the almighty leader to return from their crusade.

[they just been standing there]

I thought I would of at least let you all know as they teleports on top of something, I’m not going to get involved just yet but, watch the situation and make a conclusive decision on what to do your welcome.

as they stare down I have.....

[as there voice start to become distorted and creepy to a scary degree]

no, I had NO, ill intentions to start something that I’m just going to sit their and watch helplessly AND DO NOTHING ABOUT IT! I’m WILLING TO DO SOMETHING AND NOT LET It go UNPUNISHED.

[they start to calm abit]

Another entity take advantage of the frail & the weak to those that are desperate and willing to fall to it so called temptation & desire that doesn’t mean it gose unnoticed. IT KNOWS HOW TO GET YOU TO BEG FOR YOUR LIFE AND OFFERED A SWEET DEAL THAT YOU CANT REFUSED OR You have no choice but to accept it.

[a creepy giggle comes out and to more shouting]

BECAUSE NO ONE IS COMING TO SAVE YOU FROM YOUR OWN MISTAKES THAT YOU HAVE CAUSED. IT TWISTEDS YOUR DISIRED TO IT OWN DISIRED AND USE YOU AS THE NEW PUPPET THAT will obey it new master the one that toke absolute pity in you for oh, agreeing that your being helped. What a shamed that your so so wrong. Who said you get to decide now, you have given up on yourself. You throw in the towel. Just give in to those deep dark desires of your go ahead come on. That it sleep now because your never waking up again my friend.

[they blank-out for a moment and slowly return back to “normal” still on top of thing they are on now clutching both of theirhands and their two tendrils on their head having no clued what just happened and why it hurts so much. panicked, shocked, confused, now absolutely terrified and dares to look at the follower?]

I..... I what wrong with me...... them shaking badly still clutching their head as they go limb.

[they completely lose consciousness and procced to fall off the building getting caught before hitting the ground by a very, very, terrifyed almost pale hallow & Vern who also have no damn clue what just went down and are very concerned for their incapacitated well know as the one made of ink. And they too don’t know what to do or how to explain this to the lamb as they sit there stunned looking down lost.

-the one made of ink- -Vern- -hollow- -???????-

[i am so sorry about what your about to read as stuff has hit the fan literally] [also a lot of things happened] [no one was unalived just very terrified and like wtf oh and another problem] [it was supposed to be a short response and then it turned in to this] [that was not crimson speaking btw] [slaps lore here] [very sorry] [me right now after writing that •-• ]

Oh... It seems this child has his own "demons" To deal with

*grabs the one made of ink and starts walking to the med bay*

We should do a check up in them. This.... situation seems to have taken their strength, it's better to be safe than sorry

#holy fuck #unholy fuck(????) #THE LORE DEEPENS #cotl #cult of the lamb #the cult of the lamb #cult of the lamb role play #answering my faithful followers #the one made of ink #lil ink chid suprised me a lot #i like characters in this kind of cenario so its all good

[changingplumbob]

York Household: Chapter 9, Part 6

Back at home while Deanna does university work Paris invites a friend over to have a heart to heart.

The Yorks are Italian so if you see them using words that don't look like English it's Italian, or what google assures me is Italian. Caro/Cara: Dear Buongiorno: Good morning Piccolo: Little one Tesoro: Treasure Nonno: Grandfather Nonna: Grandmother Si: Yes Grazie: Thank you Per Favore: Please Buon Compleanno: Happy Birthday

Following their date Deanna goes and begins refining her presentation. Paris however, calls up a friend.

…

Noe: So what did you need to talk about and why aren’t you talking to Deanna

Paris: You know I’m not the brightest. I need to sort through my thoughts and I need to do it with someone that isn’t wanting me to come up with a specific answer

Noe: A sounding board? I can do that

Paris: Lately I’ve been wondering who I am… and that lead me to wondering what Deanna sees in me

Noe: Really not seeing why you shouldn’t be asking her

Paris: Because she’ll brush me off. But you know how we met

Noe: Yeah you were staring at her in class teary eyed cause what’s his face called you PP because Paris Pearl

Paris: *sarcastically* Thanks for the reminder

Noe: I’m just saying I remember

Paris: But she came over, wanted to cheer me up and make me smile. I love her for that. Then when I told her my parents had died she did everything she could to bring me into your friend group and this family so I wouldn’t be alone

Noe: You say that like it’s a problem

Paris: I think… I think she sees me as a princess who needed saving. Someone who couldn’t help themselves, so she helped. And I’m grateful, really, but I worry she doesn’t know who I am beyond that. I’m worried I don’t know either

Noe: I’m not a relationship expert but you sound like you’re thinking of breaking up because of what you’re assuming she’s thinking. Paris, you can’t know what someone else is thinking

Paris: Maybe not but I know I need to figure out who I am. What I like or don’t like. And…

Noe: And what?

Paris: *sadly* And I have the awful feeling I can’t do that if I stay here

Noe: Oh…

Paris: Watcher it sounds worse saying it out loud

Noe: Hey, hey. No it doesn’t. I mean…

Paris: See why I didn’t choose to talk to Reece about it either

Noe: Yeah, they’re thick as thieves. Are you sure you can’t figure it out here? You’ve got a neat set up and sims that care about you

Paris: A bird can’t learn to fly if it stays in the nest

Noe: And you say you’re not bright

Paris: *laughs awkwardly* Maybe I am more than I think. Just another reason to... go

Noe: Look, you’re my friend. I want you happy. I want De happy to but if you feel like you need to leave it's better to do it now than five years down the line… just have a plan before you make the leap okay

Outside Deanna is doing her best to sort the board out. She’s hoping if she works in the sun she can tan but I have my doubts. Slowly the board begins to look more organised. She finishes, or thinks it’s finished, just before she needs to leave for her afternoon classes. Time to learn!

Paris scours the internet for information. She has some money left from her parents, enough to travel somewhere for a bit. To learn to take care of herself. To learn what she can do. She finds a small town in France that is hiring seasonal workers. Accommodation is included and they get weekends off. Deanna was right about her being creative, surely she could explore that there.

Paris: Aaron?

Aaron: Yes Paris? Are you okay? You look pale. Not Deanna pale but still

Paris: I just wanted to say thank you. For everything you’ve done for me

Aaron: Of course. Deanna loves you and I’m always happy to help others

Paris: Seriously. You gave me time away from that horrible foster home, even springing me out early. And you’ve let me stay here and be part of your family. I need you to know I'm grateful

Aaron: I’m sure your parents would want someone looking out for you

Paris: But I wonder if they... would want me looking out for me

Aaron: Sorry you’ve lost me

Paris: I’m leaving. Leaving here and… leaving Deanna

Aaron says something Italian that Paris can’t follow and she looks down ashamedly.

Paris: I’m sorry. I just… I need to… *cries*

Aaron: *sighs* Paris, it’s okay

Paris: *sniffles* What?

Aaron: *softly* Calista and I were serious when we agreed to be your temporary guardians. You lost your parents, far younger than anyone should have to. They’re not here to guide you but Calista and I promised to do our best. Neither of us knew what to do after high school, who we were. It took traveling outside our comfort zone to find out. I understand the need to go search for yourself. I'm sorry if you feel like you can't do it with Deanna. I do love my daughter so... can I ask one thing? Por favore, tell Deanna yourself

Paris: Oh I left a note-

Aaron: No Paris. Let me be a parent on this, for you and her. You’ve been part of each other’s lives for years. As afraid as you are of telling her, you’ll hurt more if you don’t. Talk to her, explain, you’ll have less regrets. And if there’s one thing I’m sure of it’s that you parents wouldn’t want you gathering regrets at your age

Paris sniffles and nods. Before she can head back inside Aaron pulls her into a hug.

Aaron: *softly* your parents would be proud of you for doing the brave thing, being honest and taking a risk

Paris: *sobbing softly* I miss them so much

Aaron: I know. But you'll find them in you as you find yourself, I know from experience

Paris lets go and heads back to the side cottage. Aaron looks after her feeling torn. He likes her, and part of him wanted to convince her to stay to stop Deanna being hurt. But he needs to think about what’s best for both girls, as a lawyer he takes being her temporary guardian seriously.

Joey: What you doing out here

Aaron: Huh? Oh, Joey. I’m glad you’re here. Can you stay for dinner

Joey: Ma just said she had more knitting for me, Devin's going to make me a plate back home

Aaron: Please. I have a feeling Deanna’s going to want to see you

After a long few hours of lectures and note taking Deanna gets home and heads for her part of the property.

Paris: You’re here

Deanna: It is my house

Paris: Look I need to… this probably won’t be easy to hear

Deanna: Don’t tell me you’re pregnant

Paris: What? No De, I’m not pregnant. I’m trying to be serious

Deanna: I’m listening

Paris: I need to go. To go find out who I am. So I’m leaving. My bags are packed and my flight is booked.

Deanna: Wait you’re just going on a trip? Did you think it would be hard for me to hear because I’m stuck with study? Relax baby. The internet exists, it’ll be easy enough to stay in touch

Paris: Babe... De... We won’t be staying in touch

Deanna: Wait *softly* what are you saying?

Paris: I’ve had some doubts for a while, that you love me for what I am, a sim that needed help, more than who I am

Deanna: What? That’s not true

Paris: Then name one thing you love about me that doesn’t have to do with how I look, or you looking after me

Deanna: You can’t just put me on the spot and expect an answer! What if I asked you that about me? Could you answer?

Paris: Yes. *softly* I love how kindhearted you are, you like to help everyone. You were so proud of getting Reece and Samir talking again. You’re clever. You look at mechanical marvels and figure out how they work and how to take them apart. There is no answer for why you love me because I don’t even know who I am *sniffles* I need to go find it and I need to learn how to be independent

Deanna: *sniffles* I don’t get a say in it?

Paris: It’s for the best. In the long run... it will be for the best

Deanna: Baby don’t say that!

Deanna: I love you and you love me *sniffles* There’s no reason to abandon that

Paris: I’m sure you think that, I thought that, for a long time *sniffles* But I’m going De, you'll be okay and I... I need this

Deanna: You... break my heart while I'm struggling though university and expect me to carry on? How can I be okay?

Paris: *sniffles* I know you will carry on because you’re surrounded by love. That just... it can’t include me anymore. Your pa understands. I hope with time you’ll be able to understand to

Deanna: You’ve talked to my pa about this? *softly* How long have you been planning to abandon me?

Paris: I only told him this afternoon. I had left you a note but he said I needed to tell you in person. As much as this conversation hurts it’s one we needed to have rather than me vanishing

Deanna: You may be right about that *sniffles* but that’s the only thing you’re right about

Deanna: I love you. But if you think you need something out there that I can’t give you then it is probably best you leave

Deflated Deanna turns away from Paris and heads to the main house, tears forming in her eyes. Sensing the perfect moment to be evil Kelly appears in front of Paris.

Kelly: Hey you. You know I never liked you right

Paris: Yes Kelly, I know that

Kelly: And... I’m glad you’re leaving. In fact, I hope that you die in a car crash just like your parents in the forever save. Although they’ll probably be so embarrassed that they had such a boar for a daughter that they'll refuse to talk to you

Paris: Woah

Kelly: Leave before I fill your bags with things they will throw you in prison for trying to fly with. If you EVER try to mess with my sister again I will find a way to kill you slowly. I’ve always wanted to see what cutting flesh is like *whispers* and they will never find you

Paris: I’m leaving. Bye Kelly

Kelly: Unsafe travels

Previous ... Next

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #My sims #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0901 #ParisPearl #DeannaYork #AaronYork #KellyYork #JoeyYork

[grayintogreen]

In lieu of character profiles and because I’ve been reading so much Locked Tomb, I’m going to talk now about character names and why I overthink them in case you ever wanted to know what kind of gremlin I am.

The Clockwork Hounds

In case you missed it, these idiots are literally just expies of the Bebop crew given Exandrian makeovers. Fayne and Eda aren’t subtle- I just added letters to Faye and Ed’s names, but Lance (Spike) and Obsidian (Jet) were intentionally chosen to make anyone who figured it out want to punch me in my tits.

Melancholia

She’s a Druid from the seat of the Empire’s military industrial complex, in love with a tinkerer who has clearly NO respect for life. Of course she’s melancholy. I am often not subtle.

Also her ship name with Stahlmast would be Stahlancholia which is funny.

Faint Chance

A gambler/con man/rogue who follows the Changebringer. This one is at least justifiably on the nose since tabaxi names often Be Like That.

Cissy “Agee” Ageratum

No one within the story will ever know Agee’s first name. She will go into her next life preferring no one knew it.

Cissy comes from Narcissus which is the Latin name for daffodil and ageratum is the Latin name for floss flower. Daffodils are symbols for rebirth while floss flower has immortality symbolism.

So yeah I might as well have named her Consecutia Immortalis.

There’s no meaning behind her Kryn name. It just sounded cool.

Victoria

I think you’re lying to yourself if you believe Victor the Black Powder Merchant would be in any way original when naming his children.

Bastian Klinger

Bastian is just a cool name while also sounding just a little nerdy, but he only goes by Klinger, which sounds like “clinger.” He’s a necromancer in Wildemount clinging to Delilah Briarwood’s legacy.

Miriam Marchen

Marchen is German for “fairy tale,” referring to both the reoccurring fairy tale motifs and also the fact that poor kids being chosen to join the Solstryce Academy and then getting chosen as one of Trent’s pupils can feel like a Cinderella story.

“Miriam” means bitter and given she’s one of the first Volstrucker and effectively a prototype of what Trent would eventually turn them into and the last of her age and therefore easily replaceable with better wizards, she has a lot to be bitter about.

Sparrow Mistral

“Mistral” is just an air genasi pun, but I wanted her to have a bird name and, specifically, I wanted her to have a COMMON bird name. It was between Sparrow and Starling, but I liked Sparrow more. They’re a little more common and plain.

If Sparrow gives you Joo Dee vibes then you probably get the implications I’m hinting at here.

Irinna “Rinna” Pathan

Another one where you only got the nickname, because that’s all she use . Irinna is just a fantasy version of Irene, which means “peace.” I am nothing but a slave to irony.

Ashley Allard

Ashley is what would happen if Shinji Hirako and Brennan Lee Mulligan had a baby and that baby was the Antichrist. A pasty unassuming nerd who is somehow capable of being objectively terrifying under the right circumstances. “Ashley” is one of the least intimidating names you can give a person and for someone who is meant to be one of the bigger threats of YCDHN, that is just necessary. Like beyond the Somnovem, the scariest people openly fucking with the Nein right now are named Ashley, Jayne, and Trent. It literally sounds like the apocalypse started in a yacht club.

Allard also means “noble” which… again. Irony. Tharizdun cultist families having ridiculously inappropriate names intensifies.

#once upon a damn you all #life in the margins of redemption

[galatially]

❝𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝❞

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 x 𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — it’s harder knowing you’re without me in the world than just missing you

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 —2.6K

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — strong language, fluff, angst

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i’ve decided to put up some stories from my old account (@/constellvte if anyone ever came across it lol) because they’re gathering dust and i’m in between ideas right now so, y’know, birds and stones and all that

as always lovely banners and dividers by @firefly-graphics / @maysdigitalarts

There were two things James Buchanan Barnes knew to be true in his life: one, he hated the smell of gunpowder and you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever had the blessing of gazing upon. 

So when he was brought back after being turned to literal dust, you were the first thing on his mind. Not the teary, blubbering Steve Rogers, not the knowledge that his dearest friend, Natasha, was dead. 

He thought of Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N. 

“I think you should wait until I talk to her. Explain what happened,” Sam said. They were in Avengers’ Tower, mugs of coffee in their grips as they sat across from each other in the kitchen. 

“I want to see her, Wilson. I’m owed that much.”

“I’m not sayin’ that you can’t. I’m sayin’ that you should let me talk to her first. She mourned you, James. She deserves a heads up.”

Bucky snorted. He knew that Sam was right, he did. But since his resurrection, everything was heightened for him, more so than usual. If he’d been repentant before The Snap, the aftermath was his own baptism into forgiveness. His brown eyes find Sam’s darker brown ones. “How was she?”

He lifted a shoulder. “It was hard for her at first. Harder for her than it was for Steve being that she was the last one to get to you before…you know.”

Flashes of you holding Bucky as he faded into nothing came to mind. Your eyes were watery and red-rimmed, fat tears falling from them. You cradled him in your arms, swatting your free arm out at the others as they pulled at you. He hated seeing you cry, always did. It twisted his gut to know that someone so kind, so pure, could be reduced to tears. And over someone like him, of all people. 

“She wouldn’t leave your room for weeks, didn’t eat.” Sam shook his head. “She wouldn’t even play her music, never mind listen to it.” Bucky’s throat clenched. “Then, six months after, she left. No note, no phone calls, just gone with the wind.”

Bucky’s grip around the mug tightened. “’S my fault she left.”

“You dying in her arms is what started it, yeah, but that ain’t the only reason she left.” Sam set his mug down and crossed his arms over his chest. “She watched people she loved — her family — die in front of her. Being here with us, helping us find Captain Marvel and setting up patrols, was too much for her, I think. She’d put on a brave face but Nat and Wanda would take turns sleeping with her just to make sure she did.” He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “You sure you want to do this? She could be better than she was when she left.”

“She could be worse,” Bucky reasoned. He carded a hand through his hair. “I don’t care if she wants nothing to do with me, Sam. I — I want to know that she’s okay.” 

Sam pursed his lips, giving the White Wolf a once over. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

A genuine smile cut across Bucky’s face. “More than likely.”

Sam rolled his eyes and knocked back the last of his cold coffee. “We leave in thirty.” 

The hour drive from Manhattan to Brooklyn did nothing to calm Bucky’s nerves. 

If he wasn’t grumbling about Sam’s music selection (“Why are you playing ‘See You Again’?” “Of course I know what that is! That Parker kid and his nerdy little friend play it all the time at the compound. I’m not that out of touch.”), it was his own anxieties getting the better of him. 

Would you look different? He could remember everything about you; the way your brown eyes lit up when he walked into a room. How your curls would frame your face as they came undone from your buns. The way your laugh filled the space of his chest and warmed his heart after a particularly rough day in the field.

But that was five years ago. Five years was a long time for someone to change. 

The car came to a stop and Sam turned to Bucky. “Here we are. Casa de Y/N.”

The front of the your apartment complex looked nice: faded brick and a small garden of sunflowers on its left side. It was calm and quiet, the perfect place for someone to run away to. 

Bucky turned to Sam. “Which one is hers?”

“256B.”

“We goin’ in?”

Sam chuckled and clapped a hand onto his shoulder. “I’m not, but you are.” 

Bucky tensed, his eyes widening. “What?”

“Y/N knows that if she wants to see me, she can. But y’all need to talk. Alone.” He leaned back against his the driver’s seat. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Bucky’s words died on his tongue, stealing another glance at the bricks and mortar in front of them. “What if she doesn’t want to see me? She’s seen the news by now, yeah? She knows that I’m back.” He shook his head. “I can’t do this anymore. Let’s just go back.”

“Bro, you made me get dressed and drive you halfway across town to talk to your girlfriend. You’re takin’ your ass up there and talkin’ to her.” Sam tipped his chin to Bucky. “Go on now. Go get your girl.”

Bucky threw him a dirty glare but opened the passenger door and started towards the building.

Staccato breaths left his mouth as he climbed the stairs. He’d passed by a few tenants — an elderly woman who threw him a polite smile, a mother throwing an apology over her shoulder as she ran after a chubby toddler — and his breathing started to relax. It was when he got to the second floor staircase when someone finally spoke to him. 

“You the Winter Soldier?” The kid was scrawny, black and blond dreads obscuring his eyes. He was sitting on the foot of the staircase and he had his phone in his hand. He shook his hair out of his face, his brown eyes hardened. “Well? You Bucky Barnes or not?”

“Who’s asking?”

The kid held up his hands, a smile on his full lips. “Just askin’, bro. Be cool.” He nodded towards the top of the stairs. “She’s home. Her spare key is under her doormat.”

Bucky arched a brow. “Who are we talking about?”

The kid gave a flat look. “I’m not stupid. You’re here for Y/N, right? Lives in 256B?”

“Who’s she to you?”

“She’s my neighbor. I found a picture of you two when I was helpin’ her move in.” He shrugged. “Figured if she kept pictures, she must still like you.” Bucky bowed his head. “Look, dude, you goin’ to see her or not?”

“I am.” The words came out choked. 

“Well get up there. She got home not too long ago.”

Bucky nodded and started up the stairs. “Hey, kid?”

“Name’s Gerald.”

“Thanks, Gerald,” he said, a smile on his face. Gerald gave a short nod and went back to his phone. Bucky nodded and opened the door that led to your floor. As his eyes scanned door fronts, the numbers getting closer to yours, blood roared in his ears. His footfalls were harder, determined. It took all of him to keep from sprinting down the hall, her name echoing from his mouth. 

256B.

Bucky stopped in front of your door and a thin film of sweat veiled his skin. On impulse, he reached up to tug at a tuft of his hair, remembering he’d shorn his hair months ago. 

You can do this, Barnes. 

He raised a fist and knocked once. No answer. He knocked again, more force behind his fist, and still no answer. He looked to the left of him and threw a glance to the doors behind him before moving your doormat and grabbing the spare key. When Bucky heard the click of the door unlocking, he let out the breath he was holding. He put the front of his boot to the bottom of the door and pushed. The smell of jasmine and cotton made his jaw clench. 

It was your signature fragrance. 

He used to joke that he was going to bottle that scent and keep it for himself when he was away from you for too long. He carefully closed the door behind him and peered into the living room. Your kitchen was small but neat, the way you liked it. The hardwood floors gleamed under the soft sunlight spilling from the drawn curtains on the window. The framed artwork he’d gotten you for your twenty-fourth birthday hung over your TV; you were eyeing it at a local art fair you both had gone to in San Francisco that summer. It was the first trip you had taken as a couple. 

There were hanging ferns and other potted plants around the apartment, so green and vibrant they looked fake. You had tried teaching Bucky to care for plants of his own but after the fifth trip to Home Depot in the span of four and a half weeks, you decided to continue being the green thumb of the duo. 

He crossed the room to where her dining table sat and picked up a baby blue mug. It was the mug he’d made you on your first date. His thumb glided along the imprints of three of his fingertips that had cured because he’d almost dropped the damn thing on his way to the kiln. You teased him all night. 

The familiar click of a gun safety made Bucky tense. “Don’t move.” He heard footfalls to his left. “I’m armed and you’re trespassing.”

Bucky raised his hands and turned to face you. His eyes went to your gun and he smiled. “Good to know that you remembered your training.” 

Your stance wavered. “Buck…?” 

You lowered your gun and reached out to him with one hand. Your fingertips pressed against his chest, so feather light he thought he imagined them. You snatched your hand back and held your gun with both hands again. 

Bucky tensed. “Y/N…”

You held up a finger and put the safety back on the gun. “I was about to drop the gun and hug you but I forgot it was still on.” You set the gun on the table and faced him. You put a hand to his cheek, your thumb running along the curve of his mouth. Tears fell from your eyes and stained your cheeks. 

“It’s good to see you, Bucky Barnes.”

He kissed your palm. “I’ve missed you, too, sugar.” He moved his hands to your waist, a question in his brown eyes. “Can I hug you?”

You nodded and looped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself into him. His arms wrapped around your waist and he wanted to stay entwined with you forever. Silent sobs spilled into his shoulder and one of your hands curved to the back of his neck and held him tighter. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m back,” he cooed. You fisted his jacket collar. “I’m sorry.”

You pulled back and smiled, your hand cupping his stubbled cheek. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for, James.” Bucky pursed his lips. “I’m serious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Why did you leave the Tower?” The words sounded so small and pitiful, like a child asking why his mother had to leave. 

“I had just lost my best friend. Would you have stayed if it were me?” He looked down at your palm. “Exactly. I wasn’t well and staying there wasn’t helping.” You chuckled. “I’m sure I scared the shit out of the others but when I moved here, I wrote to them all and explained. Sam and Wanda come over on Wednesdays to watch The Masked Singer and I visit Peter and May whenever I’m in the neighborhood.” Your eyes went to his shoulder. “I visit Pepper and Morgan whenever they’re in the city.”

“That’s good. You ever visit Steve?”

A half smile. “Yeah, the old geezer tried to come for a visit a couple weeks ago and I about had a heart attack.”

Bucky frowned. “Why?”

“He was trying to climb two flights of stairs, Bucky! What if he fell!”

“Serves him right then.” You swatted at him. “What!”

“He’s one hundred ten that looks like he’s in his late sixties, Bucky,” you deadpanned. “He could’ve hurt himself, healing factor or not.”

“Your building has an elevator, right?”

“If by have you mean that there’s a defective one in the lobby that the super refuses to fix, then, sure.” 

Bucky flexed his bicep. “Want me to go talk him straight?”

You rolled your eyes and snorted. “So you can get me evicted? No, thank you.” You walked out of his arms and pushed him into one of your dining chairs. “You want something to eat? Something to drink?” 

“Not yet.” Bucky took hold of your wrist. “We need to talk.” 

You tensed. “What about?”

He guided you back towards the table, his heart pounding in his chest. “I was gone for five years, Y/N/N.”

“I’m aware.”

“And it’d be selfish of me to assume that we could pick up where we left off.” He ran his thumb up and down the back of your hand. “I mean, I’ve only been back a few months and I still feel the same. But you. You could have moved on with someone or decided that I’m not what you want anymore.” His eyes found yours. “I’m saying that if today is the last day you want to see me, I’m fine with that.”

Silence sat between them before you spoke. “Remember San Francisco?”

He blinked. “Of course.”

“I told you that you were stuck with me that first night in Romania.” His cheeks reddened. “I told you that you were stuck with me when you came off the ice in Wakanda.”

“Y/N…”

You knelt in front of him, your hands closed over his large ones. “I’m not leaving you.” You smiled. “What is it that you and Steve say? ’Til the end of the line?” 

Bucky nodded, tears blooming in the corners of his eyes. 

“That’s how long I’ll be here.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your. The seat under him started to vibrate and he groaned against your mouth. “Hold on.” He reached into his back pocket and fished out his phone. “Wilson.”

“You’ve been in there for thirty minutes. I thought she killed you or something.”

Bucky smirked at you. “She had me at gunpoint.”

“I thought you were an intruder!” 

“Is that Y/N? Hey, Y/N!” Sam said. 

“Wilson says hello.” 

You took his phone from his grip. “Why aren’t you up here, Sam? I’ll go out on a limb and say you told him where to find me.” Pause. “Sure, sure, whatever. So, did you want to come up? We can catch up on The Masked Singer and expose it to Bucky.” Your gaze cut to Bucky. “Yeah, sure. No, no, it’s fine. I have a couple shirts of his that I sleep in so he should be fine.” You snorted. “Don’t be gross. If he needs anything, I’ll call you. Miss you, too. Bye.” 

Bucky raised a brow. “I’m staying the night?”

“Or the next few nights. Sam said he wants you to get out of the Tower more.”

He scoffed. “I get out!”

“Missions don’t count, Barnes,” you deadpanned. The tips of his ears turned red. “If you don’t want to stay, I can drop you off.”

Bucky stood from the chair and crossed the room, pulling you into his arms. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — don’t y’all just love cutesy bucky? i love my brown-eyed, soft baby more than anything else lol

#galatially #can't erase your picture from my head #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x black!reader #avenger!black!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!black!reader #winter soldier #winter soldier x black!reader #winter soldier x avenger!black!reader #white wolf #white wolf x black!reader #white wolf x avenger!black!reader

[hotwings0203]

Guys I’m having another Bakugo brainrot

Tw: bullying, noncon, nonconsensual peeping, manipulation

Remember that one episode of MHA where the class goes to the sauna and M*neta tries to check da girls out over the wall?

Imagine the same scenario, but years later when they’re all older

The class wanted a reunion, just to relax and blow off some steam

You’re with the girls, and you all lay back in the hot water reminiscing about the older days when everyone was still getting the hang of their own quirks

Mina brings up this exact same scene but years ago.

“Ohmigosh, do you guys remember the last time we came in our first year here and Mineta totally tried to get a peek at us?”

“Ugh, I hope Iida is keeping a good hold on him right now,” Ochacko giggles, kicking her feet up to rest on a rock

You hum in agreement, tilting your head back to rest against the wooden wall separating you and the boys.

As it was, Uraraka was almost spot on with her hopes. Except, Iida and Tokoyami were out getting refreshments for the rest of the boys, leaving the remaining group to their own plot.

Which was lead by Mineta, of course, who had the brilliant idea to spy on the girls, just like they almost did years back.

“Guys, come on, please they’re right there!” He practically salivates, wildly gesturing to the tall wooden wall in front of them.

Most of them shift uncomfortably and groan about him being a creep as usual, but the rest stay silent.

Mineta takes their lack of outright refusal as fuel to keep blabbering.

“Look, we almost got away with it back then-“

“-You mean you got away with it, we didn’t do shit. And you didn’t exactly get off scot-free, Kota completely demolished your attempts and you landed ass down on Four-Eyes’ face,” Bakugo drawls, leaning his head backwards and looking up at the obsidian sky. The boys laugh, remembering the ridiculous event.

The night is cool, the stars littering the inky atmosphere take the pressure off of Bakugo’s lungs. For weeks now they’ve been training like dogs, battling each other and even minor villains for extra practice of their quirks. This trip was supposed to be a leisure getaway, not a free porno.

But the grape-headed perv is insistent, scoffing and waving the blond’s quip off like some annoying fly.

“You know, there’s something in it for you too, Bakugo. I’ve seen the way you look at Y/N.”

This causes a murmur and a couple of light beers towards the blond, who in turn snarls and ignites his hand to quell the commotion. All of them had an inkling that Katsuki Bakugo had finally set his sights on some poor girl, and that was you. It was such a rare sight to see his face flush slightly when you walked past him, the way he stuttered over his words a bit when you two would be conversing amongst the same group, and best of all, when they would see how he would excuse himself to the bathroom or locker room occasionally when your hero suit would tear in certain places after battles.

“Shut the fuck up 3’2, unlike you I don’t need to ogle at those brain dead bimbos.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you thought of Y/N as a ‘brain dead bimbo’, Bakugo, I’ll be sure to let her know how you feel” Mineta grinned maliciously, and the boys ‘oooo’ed at the jab.

Bakugo’s voice caught in his throat.

“You wouldn’t,” he growled, rising slightly out of the water.

“I already know you’ll kill me afterwards, but I’m prepared for the repercussions if you don’t help...cooperate here,” Grapehead inspected a cuticle and feigned a yawn.

“Come on Bakugo, it’s not like it’s gonna hurt anyone! Well keep this to ourselves,” Denki chimed in a little too eagerly.

“Yeah, I mean, we’re only asking for your and everyone’s support so that we can focus better on training y’know? A little fun never killed anyone.” Sero threw his arm over Kirishima’s shoulder, who blushed at the whole ordeal but kept silent all the while.

Katsuki looked around. Slowly, others were starting to really listen in and look interested at the outcome of Mineta’s plan. Surely a little peeping wouldn’t be too bad would it? And plus, it was only a one time thing.

Shoto was faring the same way as Kirishima, quiet and maybe embarrassed at what they were planning on doing, but no outright refusal. Even Deku had a weird longing glint in his eye, the same kind he would get when he used to fawn over All Might.

He thought about it for a minute more, a chance to see you, naked, honest, and pure, splashing around with your friends as you let your femininity dangle as it pleased.

“Do whatever the hell you want. I’m not taking blame if the bird and glasses come back, though.”

Hushed cheers and excited murmurs erupt from around the spring, and they huddle together to form a plan.

A couple minutes later, the boys were grouping around the wooden panels. Todoroki had burned a hole into the soft wood, and sero had used his transparent tape to cover it up so that the girls couldn’t see it from their side.

And there they were, completely bare, hair flowing, curves showing, voices mature and high pitched giggles emanating from around the water and bank.

Bakugo seeks you out immediately after the hole is made, shoving his way through the crowded bodies much to the amusement of others. But he doesn’t care, all he wants at the moment is to see you in your most honest element.

He doesn’t have to look long, because you’re right there, you’re right in front of them, only a few meters away. Your back is facing them, but the sight of your smooth, naked back and the round curve of your ass squishing against the rocks underneath you is enough to make Bakugo’s cock bob painfully above the water. It’s not too hard to hide his erection since the boys’s attention is elsewhere at the moment.

Your hair is open, and he wants nothing more than to feel it in his hands, run his fingers though your scalp and pull so hard that your neck is snapped back, he wants to know what kind of noises you’ll make for him, would you sound shrill and high pitched or would you wail and bellow for him to let go?

They can hear the girls talking amongst themselves, the hole in the wall makes their voices more audible and clear.

“Quit playing coy, Jirou, we know you’ve got your eye on someone,” Hagakure’s body is nowhere to be found as usual, but her chipper voice rings out from the middle of the hot spring.

Jirou is a few feet away from where you sit, her body also being shown for everyone to see. Bakugo glances at Kaminari to confirm his suspicion, but gags and quickly looks away when he gets an eyeful of his friends’ erect cock.

Not that Bakugo himself has room to talk, though.

“I mean, not really, it’s not a big deal.” The ravenette shifts and hides her head from the rest of girls’ cooing.

“Uh huh, sure. You’re not fooling anyone Kiyoka, I’ve seen the way you look at Denki. You two can’t keep your eyes off each other, it’s cute,” you purr, and Bakugo holds himself back from shoving the other guys out of the way just so that he can hear your voice the best.

Squeals and sounds of splashing fill the air, and Sero and Kirishima whisper excitedly and clap their red-faced friend on the back. Denki can’t keep the 50K watt smile off his face, and even Bakugo grunts and knocks shoulders with him, letting him know that he was happy for the human charger.

But then Jirou claps back with her own snarky observation, and the boys fall hush at the new revelation.

“Alright, you wanna talk about ogling Y/N? Then tell me, how’s Deku doing?”

“Or Bakugo, too,” Mina adds slyly, and now all the girls’ attention, as well as the boys’, is on you.

Bakugo felt like he had whiplash. He would’ve been elated, on Cloud 9 even to hear that maybe you had something for him too, had shitty Deku’s name not have been thrown in there too.

And he looks around wildly for the green haired freak, the freckles dusted across the expanse of his face even more prominent from the deep blush quickly forming, his scarred hands holding the sides of his face shaking in awe and gleeful shock.

But the rest of the boys aren’t as oblivious to how Bakugo seethes at his rival’s joy, from the way the water gets hotter from his quirk sparking underneath the rippling waves. Kirishima scoots closer to his friend and gently lays a hand on his shoulder as if to say, calm down, man. Not right now.

And so the hothead leaves it for the time being, opting to hear your response.

“I-it’s really nothing, they’re both just good classmates like the rest of the guys,” and although your back is turned to them, it doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re embarrassed too, your leg skittishly bouncing in front of you is making your ass jiggle from the back, much to the delight of the salivating boys.

Bakugo wants to spill blood when he suddenly realizes your body is being shown for the rest of these dogs to see

The girls start teasing you, your splutters being drowned out by their playful accusations.

“Come on L/N, whose cuter?”

“Dont act all coy now, I know how nervous you get when you’re all close to Bakugo. I mean I don’t blame you, have you seen his muscles? He could crush someone’s head with those things!”

“Yeah, but have you seen the way she giggles when Deku starts his mumbling tangents? That’s a classic crush right there.”

Bakugo is getting desperate to hear your answer now, some of the boys have left, feeling like they had their full of excitement for the night. They saw some tits and ass, heard some gossip, end of story.

The only ones remaining were Bakugo and his gang, as well as IcyHot and Shitty Deku.

Shitty Deku, who seemed equally eager to hear your response.

It pissed him off that he wasn’t getting the message to fuck off, even after all the growling and death stares he was receiving from his childhood friend.

But he guesses after a lifetime of dealing with it, it doesn’t scare Deku as much as it does anymore.

Maybe he’ll have to amp it up, later

“W-well I mean both of them have their own respective...flaws and strengths I guess..sometimes Deku can be kinda hard to talk to ‘cuz he’s so shy, but Bakugo can be a real jerk at times, too.”

You trail off, and Bakugo scoffs to himself. Him? Flaws? Those two words didn’t go well in one sentence together, but nonetheless he continues to listen. He wouldn’t refute the notion of him being an asshole, he wasnt that delusional.

“And yeah, I mean Bakugo definitely intimidates me sometimes with how aggressive he can be, but Deku is definitely getting up there in terms of physical prowess. But in terms of who I like, I’d have to say-“

“Midoriya! Bakugo! What are you two doing over there?”

Iidas voice booms across the water, and all 6 of the boys jump back, startled at the intrusion.

“No, wait-“ Bakugo hisses, clawing his way towards the hole to hear the rest of what you had to say, but Sero and Todoroki shove him back and patch the hole up with fire and tape, shutting off your confession.

Deku waves his arms around wildly, stammering some excuse of dropping his towel in the spot where they all were sheepishly gathered. They eventually waded their way over to where Tokoyami had set the drinks down, but the blond was shaking with hot rage despite the cool refreshment that was shoved into his hand by a wary Kirishima.

“Don’t sweat it dude, it’s not like her and Midoriya are gonna da-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll blast both your and his head off,” he glowers at the redhead, shorting a dark look to where an all-too-happy Deku was chatting with Todoroki, as if they hadn’t been drooling over their naked classmates merely a couple minutes ago.

Kirishima backs off with raised hands in surrender, leaving Katsuki to mull over the situation by himself.

You couldn’t seriously be interested in that green haired freak, right? I mean he could barely talk to a girl without tripping over his own damn tongue, for fucks sake.

Not that he was any better himself. He failed to acknowledge the times where you had merely asked him for an extra pencil, when he snapped at you for being such a fuckin’ dumbass that you couldn’t even remember to bring your own shit. He had done that out of pure impulse, but he regretted it the moment he saw your face fall, his heart clenching at the sight

He’d have to show you that he was the better option, regardless of if you wanted it or not.

And so when they had all gotten out of the water and gotten ready for food, Bakugo already knew what he had to do.

You were all eating outside in the camp pavilion, each at their own separate tables. He was sitting with the boys, all of them joking around and throwing food at each other while he was staring you down.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. How could you expect him to, after he had seen half of you bare already? It was sinful almost, the way you were completely in the dark about what he had seen and heard, while he himself was fantasizing about what you looked like and felt like on the front.

So when Deku came by your table, no doubt also having the same conversation of the springs in mind, wanting to get closer to you, Bakugo felt his sanity snap.

The fork he held in his hand started melting in his ignited hand, steam curling from his palm. He watched as the green-eyed fuck made successful shitty attempts to make you laugh, his eyes trained on where you gently laid a hand on his shoulder after something he said that made you throw your head back and howl with glee.

“Hey man, your fork-!” Kaminari yelped, pointing at the disfigured mess of metal in his friend’s steaming hand.

“Huh?” Bakugo was pulled out of his irate daze, and he quickly dropped the fork when he saw what he unconsciously did.

They all looked at him for an uneasy minute after noticing the expression on his face, no doubt understanding he was furious about being compared to Deku once again in front of you.

“Look, Bakugo, don’t really take what Y/N said to heart. We don’t know who she actually likes, and Midoriya’s just her friend...” but Sero trails off hesitantly after glancing in your direction, seeing Deku’s dreamy expression as your hand still continues to rest on his shoulder.

“Just let her come to you, yeah? You don’t wanna force anything on her, that’ll make her really uncomfortable-“

-“Shut the fuck up Shitty Hair, and mind your own damn business,” Bakugo interjects, abruptly unscrewing his drink and standing up, unable to lose you to some broccoli- headed bug-eyed fuck.

He stiffly walks across the pavilion to where you two sit, and feigns a swig from his bottle. Your focus is still on Deku, so you don’t notice him approach until he comes up behind you two and ‘trip’s, falling forward and strategically spilling the liquid all over Deku’s back and your front.

You squeal as your blouse is drenched, and Deku shoots up from his seat to grab some napkins while searching for the perpetrator.

“What the- Kacchan?”

“Oops.”

Bewildered, you look at the two while dabbing the wet splotches on your shirt, Mina and Tsu jumping into action to help you.

The boys exchange a weird look, and although Bakugo gave his version of an apology, he doesn’t look very sorry. In fact, if you saw it right he looked almost...smug? With a bit of anger?

Deku wasn’t any easier to understand either. His voice was lilted as usual while he grabbed napkins, but his gaze never left his childhood friends’ and his eyes weren’t exactly the big doe-eyes you had grown fond of.

They were darkened, and narrowed as they bored into Bakugo’s eyes. Neither one of them was looking away from each other, and there was a weird tension in the air that everyone could sense.

But you couldn’t focus on that right now, you had to go and wash up.

“I gotta change and maybe take a shower, I can feel it sticking to my skin,” you scrunch your nose in disgust and tell Mina as you stand to leave. Deku offers to walk you, but you wave him off kindly.

As you pass by Bakugo, you can feel his eyes rove up and down your body, very obviously staring at the way your white shirt clings to your chest from the liquid, sending chills up your spine.

But he doesn’t come after you, not yet.

It’s only after everyone has finished up from their dinner and headed off to bed almost 20 minutes later that the showers finally, finally warm up enough for you to dip a hesitant toe in.

Curse the old pipes.

*******

He watches you from the dark, the only light you’re provided with is the dim emergency light from the rusty bulb, the camp counselors having been shut the facility’s lights off merely a half hour ago. But you were stubborn in waiting for the water to warm up so you were left alone in the showers, shifting uncomfortably in your sticky wet clothes.

And then miraculously you get up for the umpteenth time to check the temperature of the water, and it’s finally deemed appropriate for you when you sigh in relief and start taking your shoes off.

He hides in the door partition, his cock hardening slowly as he thinks of you alone with just him and his mercy. You were going to pay for almost breaking his heart and prancing around with stupid fucking Deku instead.

But asides from his rage, he still liked you, a lot. He wanted you to want him as much as he wanted you, so he decided to try and attempt to make your first time with him as gentle and as special as he could in the dirty cabin showers.

Bakugo waits with bated breath for the right moment, and the second your hands grip the end of your shirt to pull it up, he slowly emerges from the dark.

“You know, I’m glad you came here alone, at night. It’s almost like you wanted this.”

You jump violently at the low voice coming from seemingly nowhere, and you wildly look around for the source until you see him...coming at you slow from the inky abyss of the room, like a predator stalking his prey.

His figure seems to loom even larger than he actually is, the shadows of his tall body bouncing off the walls and grazing over the top of your head. He seems to be in no rush, taking his time with his hands in his pockets, eyes flashing dangerously at you as he stalks forward until he’s backed you up against the deteriorating wall, chest to chest with you.

“W-what the hell, Bakugo,” you stammer nervously. “This is the girls room, you can’t be here-“

And the hand you raise to push him away is caught in his calloused ones, your other wrist is quickly seized as well and slammed above your head. You cry out in pain and try kicking out, but he wedges a bulky knee in between your thigh and shoves his face mere millimeters away from yours, a mean leer adorning his normally-attractive face.

“What, I can’t be here? And here I was thinking that you almost liked me. But oh, I forgot, Deku’s your favorite, right?” The grip on your wrist tigthens and his leg flexes from in between your thighs.

You squirm and sob, about to ask what the hell he was talking about-

Oh.

Oh no.

He sees the understanding pass over your face, and he laughs cruelly at the horror that comes with it.

“You heard me? How?”

“Not just heard. I saw you, too.”

He lets his eyes drop from your neck, to your chest, and then to the juncture between your legs which was being massaged by his knee.

Tears well up in your eyes as you realize he was watching you this entire evening in the springs. How he got away with it, you didn’t want to even know.

“I saw your hair open for the first time, and not in that stupid hairdo you always do for school.”

He trails his hand softly up the sides of your body and up your neck until he reaches his big hand into your scalp. You whimper and gasp as he laces his fingers through your locks, seeming to caress you but then harshly yanking your head back so you had no choice but to look at him head on.

“I saw your ass pressed up against the rocks, and I wished it was up against my cock instead.”

He removes his hand from your hair and snakes it down to your bottom, kneading and slapping it lightly. You writhe even harder now, too scared to make a noise in case he hurts you even worse, just wanting him to get the hell off of you.

“But I didn’t see the front of you. I imagined what you would look like with tears streaming down your face while I was stuffing you full of me”

He plays with the edge of your shirt, a dark look in his eye as he plays with you. You try to budge your hands but to now avail, only serving in annoying him and shoving his knee up further into your crotch. The pressure on your clit is immense, and your legs start shaking as you’re forced to be suspended almost midair on his knee.

“Take this off,” he says softly, the rasp catching in his voice.

“Bakugo, please. You don’t have to do this, I swear I won’t tell anyone-“

“You think I’m worried about if you’ll tell anyone? Hah! I already know you won’t, wanna know why?”

He leans in, inhaling the scent of your hair and grazing his nose along the side of your neck. You force yourself to breath in and out, feeling an impending heart attack.

“‘Cause if you do, I’ll make sure to fuck you in front of everyone, especially on Deku’s broken body.”

And then you can’t stop them, the tears fall from your body shaking in pure fear at his threat.

You knew he wouldn’t actually do something like that, but hearing it snarled in your ear so softly made you believe it all the same, the power he held while you were fucked, literally and metaphorically.

“Now I’m not gonna ask you again. Take this shit off before I burn it, bitch.”

You don’t want to piss him off further, so with trembling hands you lift the edge of your sticky uniform and start to pull it off, but he stops you with a frustrated grunt.

“Slowly. I wanna savor this while no ones here.”

You bite your lip and suppress a scream as you do what he says.

And oh, does he ever savor it. The shirt clings deliciously to your breasts, and he licks his lips as it ruffles up and over your head. Your skin is perspiring from the humid air, a sheen of sweat lightly decorating your collarbones. Bakugo can’t hold himself back any longer, and you yelp when he comes at you suddenly.

He lunges at your face and pins your arms down by your side again as his lips mesh against yours, his kiss filled with clacking teeth and a thrashing tongue against your lips. The knee you’re straddling is bouncing lightly up and down, jostling you on it and causing your cunt to pulsate with heat.

You let out a distressed moan, and he swallows it greedily, using the advantage of your open mouth to delve deeper into your wet cavern. You open bleary eyes and flinch when you find his already wide open, staring back into unforgiving vermillion orbs.

He pulls back slightly, panting. “I bet Deku didn’t get this kind of treatment, huh? It’s all for me right?”

You don’t know if he’s genuinely asking you or just being insane, so you don’t answer him. Fortunately and unfortunately for you, he doesn’t care for your response, rather more focusing on dragging you by your neck towards the hot showers.

You slip and stumble as he shoves you in a stall, gaining your balance only too late when he turns and locks the door.

“Look, I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, just forget you saw or heard anything at the springs, it was just girl talk, stupid stuff that didn’t mean anything-“

“-even if it didn’t mean anything to you I’ll make sure you believe what you’ll feel after I fuck you senseless.”

And with that, he tugs off his clothes and licks his lips at the sight of you cowering against the wall, naked and oh so vulnerable.

He slowly shifts towards you, pressing his body flush against your trembling one. You can feel the outline of his erection on your thigh, and you swallow at how big it is.

“I don’t wanna have to close your mouth or restrain you when I’m balls deep in that tight cunt. So don’t do anything stupid and this’ll be a whole lot easier for you.”

He reaches a hand down and lightly strokes your labia, relishing in how you whimper and jerk against him, but don’t dare try to stop his hand.

Smart girl

Another hand finds its way to your tits, tugging and pulling at your hardened nipples. You gasp and arch into his touch, slowly coming undone from his ministrations. He humps against your leg like a teenage kid, grunting while he does so.

His mouth is attacking yours once again, but now you’re too tired from the constant surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins to even move your head. You just let him play with your body, your heart, your soul.

“I think the princess is wet enough for me now,” he leers at you when he pulls his fingers away, scissoring his digits to show the strings of wetness he pulled from your pussy.

You squeal and grab onto his chiseled arms as he suddenly hikes his hands underneath your upper thighs and picks you up, forcing your legs to wrap around his middle for support.

He slams you against the wall, the water cascading down your head is making your hair stick to your face, and in a strange and sudden show of intimacy Bakugo softly moves your locks away from your eyes. Your gazes lock, yours desperate and tear filled while his scarlet hues show no signs of mercy, but rather a strange predatory hunger.

Your arms scrabble behind his head and on his shoulders for balance as he slowly sinks you down on his length. You hiss and throw your head back at the sensation of being filled, and he eats it up.

He watches the way your mouth opens, your eyes widen, as every sinful sound your body can make escapes you.

As if he needed more of an ego boost

You wail as the last inches are sucked into your dripping hole, and he lets out a mean breathy laugh.

“Fuck, you really were ready huh? I should’ve taken you weeks ago, little slut.”

Your brows furrow and you try to turn your face away but he snatches your chin in a hardened grip.

“Uh-uh, none of that shit. You were doing so well, don’t turn away from me now.”

He slowly starts to roll his hips minutely into yours, not exactly thrusting but enough movement to make your cunt flutter and throb.

“What do you want me to say? You got what you wanted!” You whisper to him, more tears falling down freely down your cheeks.

He can’t help himself, he groans and surges forward to lick the salty rivers up, gripping your ass tightly when you flinch.

“Tell me you love me. Tell me how much you want me, how much better I am than that green-haired bastard and I won’t shove it up your ass.”

You can feel his abdomen clench and shake from the effort he’s making not to completely batter your cervix so you give in quickly, afraid of what he’s like when his thin strands of self restraint snap.

“I...I love you Bakugo. I really want y-ooh!”

The last bit of your sentence is choked off as he lifts you up all the way to his tip and slams your hips down his length. You gasp and weave your hands through his hair for support, your legs violently shaking at the pain.

He grunts and starts really giving it to you, setting a fast pace as he bounces you on his cock. Your head is bobbing around, you’re fairly certain there’s drool coming down your lips but you can’t find it in you to care as he fucks you into oblivion.

After a couple of more painful thrusts he pushes you against the wall and removes your hands from his hair, holding them above your head against the wall. You’re trapped with your upper half plastered against the dingy tile while your lower half is wrapped his dick.

Your cunt swallowing him down is the only leverage you have, so your whole body weight presses down on his shaft. He moans loudly at the pressure on his tip, your gooey hot walls clamping around him from every angle and you yourself can’t help it when your eyes roll back at the sensation.

He rocks his hips up, and up you go as well, whining and clawing at the wall behind you, desperately grappling onto your sanity as well. Your tits bounce with each thrust, and his glinting eyes take perverse joy in their obscene movements.

Bakugo starts moving in earnst now, deeming the slow strokes enough prep for you. He batters your womb, reaching places not even your fingers could access, making you go cross eyed.

He sees this and snickers at your pathetic state.

“Fuck yeah you little whore. You’re gonna learn no one else can satisfy this slutty pussy like I can.”

You give him nothing but a choked gasp in response. You head moves like a bobblehead, you can’t even see clearly from the water cascading into your eyes. He’s just a towering blob of ashy blond hair and large muscles.

His hips start stuttering in their rhythm, drawing to a close from his contrasting pounding minutes earlier. Your nails rake over his forearms, holding on for dear life as he pants and groans into your ear like an animal. His dick spasms inside you for a second or two, and then Bakugo suddenly holds you tight against him, wet bodies pressed against each other as he cums.

He lets out a loud moan as you whine into his shoulder at the sensation of his hot seed filling you up. You’re held against his heaving chest for a moment of two, the both of you catching your breath until he slowly backs up and lets you slip to the ground.

It’s suddenly very quiet, the sound of the shower is drowned out by the ringing in your head. You’re shaking, shock overcoming your abused body as you refuse to look at him.

But he won’t have any of that. He steps forward, and you flinch yet again, scrambling backwards to put very necessary space between him and you.

“You got what you wanted. Please leave, I won’t say anything to anyone.” You breath out shakily.

He’s silent for a moment before you hear him chuckle. His low chuckles grow louder and more derisive, he’s booming with sinister laughter and you snap your head up in horror at him.

“You think this is done?”

He crouches to your level suddenly, elbows on his knees as he cocks his head at you, eyeing your naked body that he so recently claimed as his. His gaze travels down to where his cum seeps from between your legs, and you quickly cross your limbs over to prevent him from seeing the lewd sight.

“You’re mine now, Y/N. I already told you, you’re not gonna be talking to Deku, or any other guy apart from me. You think they’ll even want you when they find out how you loved being fucked in the dirty showers? Everyone’s gonna call you a slut, nothing else.”

“No, that’s not true you-“

He crawls to you, and it’s so mesmerizingly terrifying to see a man of his build crawl to you like some deranged humanoid that you shut up, words caught in your throat.

“Shut the fuck up.” He says softly. “You’re my bitch now, and you’ll do whatever the fuck I say, when I say it.”

Bakugo might’ve felt a little bad to see the girl he liked so scared of him all because of his doing, but the way you trembled and crossed your legs like the stupid, helpless little girl that you were erased every hesitancy from his mind.

He grabbed your cheeks and smushed them together, paying no mind to the pleas and whimpers you let out in retaliation.

Licking a long stripe up your neck, you shivered when he growled, “now clean up and be outside in 10 minutes, you’re sleeping in my bunk tonight. The guys are all asleep so we’ll just take an empty room in the cabin.”

He released you and stood back up, grabbing a towel for himself along the way. Drying his hair off, his back was turned to you as he started picking his clothes up too.

You just sat there in a daze, wondering what the hell just happened.

“Oh, and Y/N?” He was dressed, and he was at the door now.

“If you think about doing anything stupid or take longer than 10 minutes, I’ll come back in and get you personally. And I’ll make sure that we stay here for the rest of the night, just in case you like your little time alone that I’m giving you too much.”

#tw: noncon #bakugo smut #yandere bakugo katsuki #bakugo x you #bakugo mha #bakugo bnha #yandere bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha yandere #yandere Bakugo #bnha yandere #bnha smut #mha smut

[astermacguffin]

What if the Mark of Cain manifests differently when it's imprisoning God and not the Darkness? If the Darkness makes the Mark bearer go insane with unbridled want for destruction, then what does sealing God make you do?

An obsessive desire for creation? Creation to the point of corruption? (Think of the Shimmer from the film Annihilation. Continuous reproduction to the point of begetting alien, cancer-like entities. A refracted, distorted notion of creation.)

Okay, so canon divergence from The Trap. They successfully seal away Chuck, then Castiel bears the Mark. (Jack won't be back until later episodes, so he's not here yet.)

At first, they think he's fine. Cas says he's not feeling any bloodlust just yet. (He does feel a certain itch under his skin. Not a desire to murder, but a desire to do...something. He doesn't tell this to anyone.)

His grace is getting stronger, almost archangel-like (if not more). It's incredibly helpful for hunts, and Cas is happy to feel his wings healthy again after a long time. Sam is happy for him, but Dean is suspicious of things (especially since he's a previous Mark bearer).

After a while, Cas starts feeling...burdened, almost bloated by grace. (After all, he does have access to an infinite supply of it.) He needs to have an outlet for it.

Cas tells them so and Sam suggests healing people. Dean gives the green light on the condition that he remains invisible and he doesn't go Godstiel on them again.

It's a great outlet, and for the first few weeks they start feeling normal again. But unfortunately, healing stops being enough to relieve Cas of his excess grace anymore. The mass healings start to pile up all across the globe and it catches everyone's attention. Some think it's a blessed miracle, some think it's a sign of the end times. They make him slow down on the healings after that.

Without an outlet, however, Cas starts feeling antsy and pained. They brainstorm on possible alternatives. Cas suggests going to Heaven and saving it from collapse by healing his brethren's wings and creating more angels out of consenting souls in Heaven.

He explains Heaven's endangered and dwindling numbers. Sam agrees that it would hit two birds in one stone: relieve Cas from excess grace and prevent the extinction of angels. Dean doesn't like the idea of more winged dicks so he shoots down the idea. Eileen says that since Cas is the one in pain, he should be the one to decide.

Ultimately, Cas defers to Dean's judgment (as always). Sam protests, arguing that he can't just shoulder that pain. Cas replies: "I've suffered worse, Sam."

Cas doesn't complain about the pain for about a week, so for a while, everyone believes him when he said he can shoulder the pain. One day, Dean finds him outside the bunker, groaning in pain as he bleeds himself out, his grace pouring into the ground and sprouting plants. Dean sees this and is finally convinced to allow Cas to make more angels.

What follows then is a series of escalating events:

While Sam and Eileen are practicing their witchcraft for spell they need in a hunt, Cas suggests to enhance Sam's physical and magical abilities using his grace. "It will make the process faster and safer," he reasons. He agrees, but Dean eyes this suspiciously.

During one of their hunts, they encounter a young and freshly-turned vampire. The boy begs them not to kill him, and Cas gives him a proposal. "Promise not to feed on humans ever again and I shall cure you of your hungers and your pains. Pledge your allegiance to me and you shall never be afraid of yourself ever again." The boy agrees, and before Dean could even protest, Cas slices his palm and feeds the vampire his grace.

They argue about the grace-feeding in the Impala. Dean notices Sam's pointed lack of complaints and figures it out. "You're in on this, aren't you? How long has Cas been doing this? He's going Michael behind our backs and you're letting him?"

Sam argues that it's different because Cas isn't making super monsters; he's making them less "monstrous" (whatever that means). Sam's obsession with his own "purity" is key to understanding him here.

One time, Dean catches Cas in his "garden" ("forest" seems more apt with how lush the greens already are) creating butterflies and bees out of thin air using his grace alone.

Reports of the miraculously healed people suddenly gaining new abilities like increased strength, heightened senses, and prophecy start popping up. Some are experiencing phantom limbs, talking about their sprouting "wings."

Sam is becoming addicted to Cas' grace to the point that he willingly lets himself be hurt in hunts just so Cas can cure him. Dean confronts him about this, but Sam just argues that he's "never felt this pure before." Eileenn shares the same concern as Dean.

Hunts are becoming less frequent the more monsters are being "cleansed" by Cas. The world is becoming disconcertingly quiet.

Cas' "garden" is starting to emit this strange aura. The plants and creatures growing inside it are starting to look more...alien.

One of the original angels goes to Dean and tells him of Heaven's affairs. The Host is stable again, but the angels he created are...not exactly angels. They're graced up and they sustain Heaven, but their true forms are "horrifying and incomprehensible, even to an angel." The angel adds that more than 60% of Earth's creatures have already been touched by Cas' grace.

The final nail in the coffin is when Dean catches Cas in the garden fiddling with his angel blade. It's emitting a strange glow, vibrating a subtle hum and looking as if it's liquid, flowing and distorting here and there.

Dean asks him what he's holding. "Oh, this?" Cas responds. "This is the Last Blade. Last, not in terms of time but in concept, for no other blade shall ever compare to it. The spark of creation. Fiat lux."

Dean's heart sinks. Of course. The First and the Last, Alpha and Omega. "Cas...the Mark, I think i-it's scrambling your brain, man."

"I know," he replies, eyes wet and apologetic. It's a small moment of lucidity amidst weeks and months of...whatever that was.

"Okay, okay, so you're still you, that's... that's good. Okay." Dean doesn't know how to approach this. Give him a fight and he'll know what to do, but this? Watching his best friend, the love of his life, be distorted into something incomprehensible? Yeah, this is totally beyond him.

"You know, I used to hate Chuck," Cas says. "How could the Father of All Creation be this angry, petulant child? But," he continues, "knowing what I know now, it's either regressing into a petty child or being reduced to insanity."

"Cas...what are you talking about, man?"

"No mind should bear this burden, Dean. No matter how infinite they are," he says, voice trembling in exhaustion.

(more below the cut)

He continues. "The awareness of everything is the awareness of nothing at all. Imagine perceiving every possible piece of information about the world all at once. Seeing light in all its forms all at once: ultraviolet, infrared, etc. Sensing all the neutrinos zip by, sensing gravitational waves, sensing the slighest bit of seismic activity."

Dean doesn't know how to respond, so he lets him go on.

"Knowledge can only ever be a slice of the Totality of Truth. Truth is absolute chaos, and Knowledge is the partial ordering of this chaos. One can sanely approach Truth only through organized paritions of Totality. Why do you think Chuck is so obsessed with stories? Stories are linear and finite; they're sensible snippets of the endless sea of possible worlds."

"So, what? Are you trying to—"

"I'm not trying to justify Chuck's actions, Dean," he interrupts. "I just want to contextualize them. Chuck's simplistic and repetitive narratives are what they are: manifestations of a chaotic Totality, gone insane trying to understand itself. Looking for simple things to hold on to."

Cas takes a deep breath. He speaks with a shaky voice. "I'm barely holding myself together, Dean. I can feel the universe beneath my skin."

He doesn't know what possesses him to ask, but he does it anyway. "What are you holding on to?"

Cas smiles at that. "You."

They stare at each other for a while, frozen where they stand. Cas, with unrestrained affection in his face. Dean, struck by shock and indecision. It's Cas who first breaks the silence.

"I think we both know what needs to be done, while I'm still lucid enough." Cas slices his palm and lets his blood drip down the soil. He then thrusts the Last Blade into the ground, lifting it when the soil glows.

Dean stared in awe as the ground erupts and a familiar shape rises from the hollow. "Is that.."

"The Ma'Lak box, yes. I also enhanced it with the Blade to be able to house things as powerful as me."

"Cas, wait, maybe we can think of another way to—"

"Dean," he says, calmly. "You know there's no other way. I wouldn't ask this of you if there was."

In any other scenario, Dean would've kept arguing, but even he knows that they're running out of time. Sam's grace addiction is getting worse and all the creatures touched by Cas' grace are slowly mutating into eldritch horrors. Dean offers a shaky nod. "Okay."

Tension visibly releases from Cas' body. "Thank you, Dean." He opens the box and enters it with ease. "When you lock this, bury me with the garden's graced soil. Once I'm under, my influence over the world should dampen."

Dean gives a wordless nod. For a while, they just stared at each other, Cas lying down and Dean trying to memorize every inch of his face while he can.

Cas presses his hand into Dean's left shoulder where his mark used to dwell. "My untainted grace," he whisper gently. "Some of it is still inside you. That's probably why you're not as affected by me."

Dean wants to say, I'll always be affected by you, but he holds himself back.

He takes his hand back, a bloody handprint now on Dean's jacket. "I love you, Dean," he says, breathless.

"Cas..."

"I probably would've built up to that if we had more time but," he makes a surprised laugh, "I am, as you would say, already 'losing my marbles', so."

The air quotes would've been funny and endearing in any other scenario, but it just makes Dean's vision blur up with tears.

"Thank you for everything, Dean. I know we've done nothing but repeatedly hurt each other these past few years, but I don't want to spend a deathless eternity with that as my memory of you. I forgive you, even for the things you haven't forgiven yourself for yet. And I'm sorry for everything, especially for ending things like this."

He should probably wipe away his tears to clear his vision, but Dean can do nothing but stare at Cas in awe, in fear, in grief, in reverence. They're both fully crying now.

"Goodbye, Dean."

"Wait, Cas."

Cas looks at him, waiting.

"Can you...can you say it again?"

He doesn't need to clarify what 'it' means. They both know.

With one last mournful smile, Cas says: "I love you, Dean."

And with that, Dean finally gathers all the strength he needs to shut the lid and lock the box. He stares at it for a while, unblinking. He forgot to ask, Can you hear my prayers down there? But it's too late now to ask.

The box automatically lowers itself into the hole it arose from. Now all that's left to do is to cover it again with soil.

Dean doesn't bother with a shovel. He gently buries the box with his hands deep in the soil, some of it getting trapped under his nails. He continues the mindless task, whispering a tireless series of I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I hope you're okay I'm sorry, over and over between his quiet sobs. Cas is quiet inside the box. No screaming or crying. Dean doesn't know if that's better or worse.

When the final clump of soil is pressed into the mound, he suddenly feels it: a visceral shift that echoes throughout the world. The alien glimmer of the garden dims, and the world corrects its axis. Dean screams his agony into the air.

That's how Sam finds him: sprawled over a mound of soil, crying his heart out. Dean doesn't need to say anything: he knows what happened. He pulls his brother off the ground and brings him inside the bunker.

For the first two weeks, Dean cycles through drinking and passing out in various places in the bunker. If he's not wearing the jacket, he's holding it with close to him. Sam gives him a considerable space to grieve while he monitors the world grace problem with Eileen. The grace mutations have significantly dropped since then and everyone's going back to normal.

Unfortunately, that means monsters are getting hungry again. Sam doesn't want to leave his brother alone after going nonverbal with grief and dysfunctional due to alcohol. Eileen assures him that she can handle hunts on their own and that the hunter network that they're building will lessen the workload.

Sam's attempts to sober Dean up finally work, mostly due to the latter having very little strength to protest. Dean remains sober an entire day for the first time in weeks, and all he can think about is: I haven't prayed to Cas in a while. The longing might have reached him, but never a coherent prayer.

The first time he goes out of the bunker in a while, he heads straight to Cas' garden. Sam's glad that he's finally going out because "the sun is good for you" or something, but he's really only here for Cas. He kneels in front of the burial mound (where a patch of an unknown species of flowers is already growing).

The first prayer he says to him in a while is: I love you, Cas. I should've said it while you were still here. Not saying it out loud and just strongly thinking about the words somehow bolsters him to get the words through.

He's crying again, and he knows he's losing coherency. In his mind, he's explaining about his hangups and his regrets and his continuous denial of his own joy, but one constant remains: he's beaming all his love and affection into this prayer.

He's halfway through explaining all the traits that he finds endearing in Cas when suddenly, he feels it like a snap. If the glimmer dimmed when he buried Cas, now it's as if it was never there in the first place. With an unsettling amount of certainty, Dean just knows that Cas is gone. For real, this time.

"C-cas...?" It's the first thing he's said in a while and it sounds rough in his long unused voice.

"CAS! CAS!!! " He's now screaming, ripping away the flowerbed with his bare hands and scratching the soil away. Tears are obstructing his vision, but he has no time to wipe them away. He needs to make sure that is really gone. His hands are bleeding and he doesn't give a damn.

Eventually, Sam comes running towards him. "Dean! Dean, stop!"

He tries to hold his brother back, but Dean just keeps on clawing away soil. "Sammy, Sammy he's gone, he's not there anymore, Sammy I have to see, please, let me see Cas again, I need—" he breaks into sobs again, and like a puppet with its strings cut off, he slumps into Sam.

"Dean, it's okay, it's okay..." he says softly to his shaking brother.

Eventually, when Dean calms down, he looks at the carnage he's done and starts sobbing again. The flowers, his last evidence of Cas being here, are all destroyed. Now Cas truly is gone.

. . .

When Cas first heard Dean's confession prayer, he was overcome with joy. When he realized what that means, however, his stomach suddenly sinks.

He hears before he sees the Empty arrive, slithering like black goo.

"Wow, were you excited enough for eternal slumber that you wanted a preview?" The Shadow teases in Meg's voice.

At first, he was dreading the Empty, but now that he thinks of it, it's actually the perfect prison for him: a vast, endless nothingness for him to fill with his creations.

And if Jack wasn't in Heaven, that only means that he's in the Empty, and he can't wait to see his son again. Even when blinded by the madness of the universe, he can never forget the joy of being a father.

"Yes," he replies, "I'm actually glad you're here now."

. . .

Somewhere around the globe, Billie drops Jack back.

"Don't worry, kid. You'l reunite with your father very soon."

(to be continued)

#spn #destiel #supernatural #aster writes #destiel fic #long post #im totally obsessed with moc!cas #moc!cas

[ragingbookdragon]

Even Though We May Be Hopeless Hearts Just Passing Through, I Was Made For Loving You PT. 1

Batsis x Kyle Rayner

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I realize the other story didn't follow the whole, dating the brother's best friend trope, so I decided to remedy it. And what do you get when you cross a hopeless romantic with someone who's new to love? Perfection. That's what. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Saturday mornings, in Dick’s opinion, were meant for sleeping in and quite possibly going to IHOP when everyone finally crawled out of bed at ten. They were not meant for being shoved in the side by a little brother.

“Golden-boy,” a voice grouched from beneath the bedside. “Your phone’s been going off for an hour. Either put it on silent or answer the goddamn thing.”

Dick let out a tired ‘pfft’, rolling onto his stomach, face buried in the side of the bed as he looked down to the floor. “Annoyed much, Little-wing?”

“I am going to shove that phone so far up your—”

Reaching over, Dick put the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Where are you?

“Still in bed,” he responded, sentence ending in a groan as he stretched. “Why?”

You were supposed to be on the flight back to Gotham two hours ago.

Dick’s eyes went wide, and he sat up, gaping at the bedside clock. “It’s today.”

It is today. I can’t believe you forgot it was today.

“Oh my God, it’s today and we missed our flight.” He stumbled out of the bed, barely registering the shout from Jason as his foot landed in his brother’s stomach. “Jason, get up! It’s today!’

“What’s today?” his little brother griped, rubbing his abdomen.

“(Y/N)’s coming back!”

Jason’s eyes went wide, and he scrambled to his feet, hurriedly finding his bag to change out of his nightclothes. “Christ, I can’t believe we forgot that (Y/N) was coming home today!” he looked at Dick. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” Dick yelped. “How is this my fault!”

He scowled. “Big brother wanted everyone to be with a sibling for the night, so they’d be together and be punctual but you and I both know neither of us have any concept of time.” His scowl grew. “I knew I should’ve bunked with Cass. She’s on time no matter what happens.”

Dick threw Jason’s sweatshirt at him. “Dress now, bitch later.” He put the phone back to his ear. “We missed our flight, but we can drive there.”

Your car’s in the shop.

“Shit,” he hissed, spinning in a circle to help his brain circuit enough to think of something new. “Uh-uh-uh—”

“Kyle!” Jason shouted, pointing at him. “Kyle’s like thirty minutes away from Manhattan! We’ll go to him for a ride!”

Dick grinned. “We’ll find Kyle.”

You sure Kyle’s at home?

“Pfft, Kyle’s always home on the weekends. He’s lazy.”

Just get here. (Y/N)’s plane is going to land in less than four hours.

“We’ll be there,” he said. “Is Diana coming too?”

Of course. She is (Y/N)’s mother.

“Nice. Alright, see you in Gotham, Bruce.”

Love you boys. And be careful. I’ve already heard that Cass, Tim, and Steph got into a fender-bender with Damian and Duke.

Dick blinked. “They’re…they’re legitimately driving separate cars? How’d they hit each other?”

Don’t ask.

The line went dead, and Dick looked at his brother. “Ready?”

Jason nodded. “Already got an Uber to Kyle’s place.”

“We could always just Uber to Gotham?” he offered, and Jason recoiled with a shocked look.

“And pay a ridiculous amount of money instead of just paying Kyle’s gas? Fuck no, big brother.” He shoved his wallet and keys into his pockets. “C’mon!” he chirped, rather excitedly. “Our baby sister’s coming home!”

***

When he swung the door open to yell at whoever was pounding on it, he wasn’t expecting to see two of his best friends grinning like idiots. “Wha—”

He’d barely gotten a word out when Jason shoved a bag of fast food in his hands. “Get dressed. You’ve gotta drive us to Gotham City.”

Kyle blinked, glancing down at the bag before looking at Dick. “Why?”

“Our sister’s coming home, and we overslept and missed out flight outta here.”

“And you came to me…why?” he asked.

“Because you have the functioning car.” Jason retorted, antsy on his feet. “C’mon Kyle. We have to hurry! (Y/N)’s coming home!”

Figuring it was better to agree than to argue, Kyle relented, handing back the bag of food before he disappeared into his apartment, reappearing moments later, dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans, a graphic tee, and his usual slim casual jacket. He took the bag back and started digging around in it.

“Who’s (Y/N)?” he inquired, biting into a breakfast burrito as he locked his front door behind him.

“Our baby sister.” Jason said.

“I thought Cass was your baby sister?”

Dick nodded, getting out his own breakfast from the bag. “She is. But (Y/N)’s like…the OG baby sister.”

Kyle blinked, glancing over at him as he pushed the elevator button. “That makes no sense.”

“He means that (Y/N) was around before Cass was.”

“And she isn’t with you guys why?”

“She’s been on Themyscira for the last few years training with her grandmother and the other Amazons.” Jason answered as if it was the most normal thing in the world, stepping onto the elevator.

Kyle merely stared at the two brothers who were looking back at him; he felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. “Wait, your sister’s an Amazon?”

“Yep.”

“Who’s her mom?” he asked, stepping between them.

“Wonder Woman.” Dick said.

Strike two. “Who’s her dad?”

“Batman.” Jason responded.

Believe it or not, Kyle went three for three punches to the gut. “Bruce and Diana had a kid together?”

“Yeah.” Dick murmured. “I think it’s also why B’s so insistent against inter-team-relations.” He nudged Jason behind Kyle. “First time he attempts dating a coworker he ends up with a baby.”

Jason snorted. “And all those lessons about, ‘Children, whatever you do, don’t date anyone on your team. It’ll only lead to babies and limited visitation’.” He laughed again, then he frowned. “I don’t think any of us have followed that lesson.”

Dick opened his mouth to make an excuse but all that came out was a pitiful, deflate of air followed by, “That’s actually a good point.”

The elevator dinged and they watched the doors open before walking out towards the parking garage. They climbed into Kyle’s car, Jason in the front because his legs were longer than Dick’s, and Dick was a contortionist anyways so if anyone deserved to have their knees in their chest, it was him.

Halfway through the drive Kyle asked, “You guys are paying for my gas, aren’t you?”

All he received was unsure responses and he merely sighed.

***

He figured he should’ve just dropped Jason and Dick off at the airport in Gotham and drove home, but he couldn’t help but want to see just what the daughter of Wonder Woman and Batman looked like. He imagined a little girl dressed in a Batman suit three sizes too big and wielding a sword and a lasso way too heavy for her. It made him smile, the way that the two brothers gushed about (Y/N). From their praise, she was their world. Kyle had to see her though, because nothing was going to satiate that curiosity of seeing the big Batman’s daughter.

He watched Dick and Jason crane their necks like birds as they looked around. And honestly, the family shouldn’t have been that hard to find considering that every time Kyle was around the entirety of the Batfamily, they were like psychos on steroids—he very much so understood why the entirety of Gotham’s villains became flighty when every member of the Batfamily was out patrolling.

Kyle wasn’t expecting a voice to crack over the airport, loud and bubbly. “Brothers!”

All three of them stopped, even him who wasn’t even a sibling, looking over towards the call and Kyle’s jaw dropped as a young woman sprinted over to Dick and Jason, slamming into them with the weight of a train. The three of them collapsed into a pile on the floor, but they were laughing so Kyle assumed the siblings were alright.

“Princess!”

“Baby girl!”

“Oh, I am so glad to see you both!” she exclaimed. “I have waited so long to come home!” she was on her feet in moments, pulling them to theirs as if they weighed nothing. And Kyle knew Jason weighed a lot—he’d been crushed under his best friend before in fights.

Suddenly, she stopped and looked over at Kyle who immediately felt his heart lurch under her sharp gaze. “Who is this you have brought?”

Jason gestured to him. “(Y/N) this is Kyle. He’s a friend of Dick and mine. Kyle, this is our little sister, (Y/N).”

She huffed laugh. “I am not little, Jason. I am twenty-one.” Reaching out, she immediately pulled Kyle in for a hug, squeezing him tightly. “It is good to meet you, Kyle.”

“You too,” he murmured, feeling his cheeks warm as she pulled away and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Any friend of my brothers is a friend of mine.” (Y/N) smiled. “Are you a superhero as well?”

He couldn’t help but toss a quick glance towards Jason who nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’m a Green Lantern.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in wonder, and she let go of his shoulders in favor of grabbing at his hands until she found his ring. She stared at it, murmuring quiet, ‘ooo’s and ah’s’. “That is simply amazing!” she chirped, looking at him, and then she silently gasped, raising his hand near his eyes. “Oh…your eyes are almost the same color as your ring.”

Her smile made Kyle’s heart beat a little faster as she expressed, “They are beautiful.”

They gazed at each other, too captivated in the moment to understand that the family had gathered around them by then. Someone’s hand curled around (Y/N)’s wrist and she looked over seeing Dick tugging her hand away.

“C’mon Princess, let’s go get your things on the belt.”

She smiled and followed, giving a small wave to Kyle, who returned hers shakily whilst grinning like a dope.

Someone elbowed him in the ribs, and he gasped, holding his side as Jason muttered, “Don’t ever stare at my sister like that again.”

Kyle blinked, glancing at him. “What’re you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, you goddamn skirt-chaser.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Kyle spluttered.

“You’re thinking about it.” Jason warned, pointing a finger in his face. “Make a move on (Y/N) and I’ll kill you with your own ring.” Kyle recoiled just as she and Dick were coming back, both holding a suitcase.

“Father!” she called, glancing at Bruce. “Dick and I have retrieved my luggage.”

He smiled at her. “Let’s go put it in the SUV then.” He paused, looking over the large group. He and Diana had ridden together, and since his children had fender-benders, they’d picked up Cass, Tim, Stephanie, Duke, and Damian; there wasn’t room for (Y/N) too.

“Father? Is something the matter?” (Y/N) was staring at him with concern.

“There’s not enough room in the SUV for you too. Maybe we—”

“There’s room in my car for (Y/N)!” Kyle blurted out, smiling nervously at Bruce. “I can follow behind you.”

Before anyone could screech ‘NO!’, mainly Dick and Jason, (Y/N) lit up like the morning sun. “Oh, that is a wonderful idea!” she grabbed onto Diana’s arm. “We should all stop for ice-cream though! Mother, what do you say?”

She smiled at her and leaned over, kissing her head. “I say that sounds like a fantastic idea, daughter.”

Kyle grinned and held out his arm for (Y/N), her giggling as she took it. “You know, I don’t live in Gotham, (Y/N), but I do know a good gelato store around the area.”

“What is gelato?” she asked, and he groaned.

“Oh, I can’t believe you don’t know what that is.” He started off, pilling her along, leaving everyone behind. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

Jason’s face pinched and he looked over at Bruce. “Can I break the no-kill rule just once?”

Bruce blinked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched his daughter laughing along with Kyle, both looking like newlyweds already. “Believe it or not, I’m strongly considering it.”

“Bruce.” Diana admonished. “Let (Y/N) and Kyle become friends. You know she doesn’t have many outside this family here.”

Dick growled. “Except Kyle doesn’t want to be friends with (Y/N), Diana. He wants to be her boyfriend.”

“They just met though?”

“Yeah, and Kyle’s a propose on week two type of man,” Jason griped. “Jesus Christ, this is going to be a disaster.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but (Y/N) and Kyle said gelato and you guys are just standing here.” Tim said. “Can we go now?”

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