#and they have like. worry lines on their forehead. they're old…

[front-facing-pokemon]

#fennekin #my psmd hero. and also the biggest chompers on the planet apparently. LOOK at those toofs #and the big eyes. they're staring at you with their autism eyes #and they have like. worry lines on their forehead. they're old…

[mooshywrites]

Could I request headcanons of poly! Astarion, and Halsin with gn human crush genuinely asking them if they're willing to be with them despite their shorter lifespan?

I’ll Love You Forever

Poly!Reader x Astarion x Halsin

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - I knowwwww this was a headcannon request, but It was just so incredibly sweet that I couldn’t help writing a longer fic for it. It’s still bite sized though! Hope you still like it, your requests are always top tier ;) <3

Word count - 1.2k

Warnings - sfw, angst, mentions of dying/growing old, fluff

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Not even the Gods themselves could make me stop loving you.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~Astarion~

Astarion’s eyebrows furrowed as he slipped the needle in and out of the silk fabric. He cursed, sighing as he pulled the thread from the needle, tearing out the last few stitches in his work. The small green leaves he had been embroidering were now a mess of jumbled lines and he had only you to blame.

You had been acting quite… odd today.

Usually you were a bundle of smiles, greeting Astarion and Halsin with kisses and teases in the morning, sleepy eyes and clinginess galore. But this morning, after you had brushed your hair out in the mirror, something had changed. You had found a single grey hair, plucked it out and glared at it like it had personally attacked you. Since then, you’d been quiet, distant.

And Astarion hated it.

Though he acted aloof and annoyed when both you and Halsin would shower him with love and affection, deep down he adored it. Craved it even. All day, the most you had given was a quick peck to Astarion’s cheek before leaving to gather herbs.

Astarion found it hard to admit that your change in behavior had rattled him so. He was still so new to this ‘caring about other people’ thing. But his stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought of you out there picking plants without a smile on your face.

”Get it together, Astarion.” He murmured, threading the twine back through the eye of the needle.

The door of your little cabin swung open, Halsin bumbling in. He was carrying a large basket stuffed full of various cooking ingredients, his own face looking rather forlorn. He set everything on the table as Astarion continued his stitching, finally coming over to see what the Vampire was up to.

“Done with my shirt?” Halsin gruffed, leaning down to leave a gentle kiss on Astarion’s forehead.

”Obviously not.” Astarion scoffed, setting the work down and rubbing his eyes. “I’ve had to restart twice.”

Halsin’s forehead creased with worry, “What frets you, my heart?” He reached down to run the pale elf’s shoulders gently.

”You know what frets me.” Astarion quipped. “They went out this morning all doom and gloom and still haven’t come back. How long does it take to find a bloody herb or two?”

“I noticed it too.” Halsin said grimly. “That’s why I went to get ingredients for their favorite meal.”

Astarion thought for a moment, glancing back at the basket filled with food. “You know, you may be on to something.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~Reader~

You brushed off your pants, annoyed. Your basket was practically stuffed with medicinal herbs, so much so that not even another leaf would fit in amongst the others.

In truth, you were avoiding returning home.

It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal when you found the grey hair that morning. Everyone gets them eventually, but to you, that little strand held too much meaning for your heart to handle.

You were getting older.

You didn’t notice it at first, the way your laugh lines deepened, the way your eyes crinkled a little more when you smiled. You had never been afraid of growing old before Astarion and Halsin, in fact, the thought of immortality seemed suffocating to your human mind. But the thought of passing on and leaving them here? That truly stung.

Not to mention, you were afraid.

Afraid the two men wouldn’t love you any more. Not when your limbs grew feeble and your mind grew weak. Would Halsin still sweep you into his arms and kiss you when he came home? Would Astarion still tease you and make it all up with lis lips when you pouted?

Would they still love you as you grew old?

The thought stung your eyes, your vision growing blurry through tears. You wiped them away quickly, deciding it was time to return home. Your boys were probably worried about you, and you didn’t want them to see your puffy face like this.

Instead you thought of other things on the walk home. Chores, future plans for the house, adventures you might take. Anything to distract from your world imploding around you.

As soon as you walked through the front door, a wave of delicious smell hit you. Your mouth watered as you recognized the savory scent. You set down your basket of herbs, seeing Astarion and Halsin talking in hushed voices before the stove. Apparently, they hadn’t noticed your homecoming.

You padded up behind them, clearing your throat, “What are you making?”

Astarion practically jumped out of his skin, turning to look at you. He sighed with relief and then gave you a glare “You scared me, pet. Don’t you know it’s bad form to sneak up on a loved one?”

Halsin just chuckled, pulling you into a warm hug. You melted into the touch, inhaling his pine and honey scent. You didn’t linger too long, afraid the embrace would make you tear up again.

“Sorry,” You offered, pulling away from Halsin, “I guess old habits die hard.”

The room fell silent again as you watched the men cook, working together perfectly to mold together your favorite dish.

“My heart, is something bothering you?” Halsin gently asked, looking up at you as he finished his prep work.

You shook your head, looking down to avoid his concerned gaze. “No. Just tired, I suppose.”

“Might as well come out with it.” Astarion huffed. “We know something is wrong.”

You clamped your mouth shut, afraid you’d lash out at the men if you opened it. It wasn’t their fault they wanted to know. They just simply cared. You would be acting the same if one of them had disappeared, looking upset.

You were about to change the subject when you felt a strange tickling sensation in your mind.

As if someone were trying to peer into your thoughts.

Your head jerked up, glaring at Halsin angrily, “Get out of my head.” You seethed, crossing your arms.

Astarion glanced at Halsin, apparently surprised at his boldness. “Well, what did you see?” He asked, turning to the both of you.

Halsin kept his eyes on yours, his expression tinged with embarrassment, apologies, and… sadness?

“They were thinking of growing old.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~Halsin~

Halsin’s heart clenched tightly, the images in your mind replaying in his own head over and over. He saw your fear, saw your heartache at the thought of withering away from the life the three of you had built.

He couldn’t even begin to make himself feel sorry for the intrusion of detecting your thoughts, the overwhelming feeling of your sadness choking the Druid’s mind.

Astarion’s expression became unreadable, the room taking on a quiet air.

“I don’t want you to stop loving me.” You whispered sadly.

Halsin’s eyebrows furrowed, his gaze switching to Astarion with confusion. He couldn’t fathom the sentence you had said. Couldn’t imagine a world where that would be true. With Halsin’s long life, he’d never had to think about his mortality before. Sure, there were a few run ins and battles where he’d been faced with the thought of death. But the idea of aging had never hit him the way it was apparently hitting you now.

How terrifying it must be to be a human. To fit such experiences and growth in so few years.

Halsin shook his head decisively, turning back to you. “Not even the Gods above could make me stop loving you.”

“Unfortunately, I agree with the big lout.” Astarion smiled, pulling you close against him. Halsin joined, his frame wrapping both you and Astarion up perfectly.

Halsin heard you sniffle, tears staining your voice when you spoke. “But what about when I’m elderly?” You wailed. “What about when my joints are stiff and my face all… wrinkled?”

“You will always be the most beautiful thing nature has to offer.” Halsin murmured, petting your hair gently.

“Wrinkles? Oh, darling, not to worry.” Astarion grinned, “There’s always the option of the three of us going out in a dramatic blaze of glory. Perhaps cliff jumping?”

Halsin smacked his shoulder, earning a small laugh from you.

“Fine.” Astarion sighed, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. “I suppose I can be swayed to love an old bat if its you.”

“Promise?” Your voice asked, feather light and muffled in the hug.

“Promise, darling.” Astarion assured, rubbing the curve of your back in small soothing circles.

“I promise as well, my heart.” Halsin swore, planting a kiss on the top of you and Astarion’s heads.

As he held you both tightly, the smell of your favorite meal wafting through the air, Halsin only had one final thought on the matter. It wasn’t the fear of you growing old that addled him, you would be just as perfect to him if hobbled over and grey, it was the thought of life after you had passed. The loneliness that would leave both himself and Astarion in. Not to mention… how would Astarion feel when the both of you were gone? No… there had to be something to ease this heartache. He had made up his mind

I’m going to need to talk to Jaheira about that immortality ritual.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #halsin #bg3 astarion #bg3 halsin #baldurs gate halsin #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #halsin x reader #halsin x astarion x reader #poly astarion halsin #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate fluff #bg3 fluff #astarion fluff #halsin fluff

[storydays]

Clay X Wife! Reader

"We call them meat circles." Clay greeted his brothers dramatically. Their brothers and Poppy greeted him in varying ways before he continued to pinch and baby-talk Branch, ignoring his pleas to call him "Big Branch" or just "Branch."

A voice called out, "Clay, darling, if you want to talk to an actual baby...yours are right here." The group turned to see a light-pink-haired Troll, wearing a dress with a similar design to Clay, walking over with 2 peach color haired Tollings, one sleeping who had mini wrist bands and a diaper and one awake, a yellow pacifier in her mouth, with a couple of flowers placed in her hair and a diaper.

"Melody! Hey, sweetheart, you're finally awake!" Turning to the woman as he took the baby, his eyes softened even more, "Hey (Y/N), how was your nap? You feeling better, baby?"

(Y/N) smiled, adjusting her son slightly. "Yeah, I feel like that fog in my brain is lifted, like I can think clearer. But enough about me, who are the new Trolls?"

"Oh, yeah! Everyone, this is my wonderful wife, (Y/N), and mother of our twins, Melody and Lallo! Baby, these are my brothers, John Dory, Spruce, who goes by Bruce now, and Bit-I mean Branch. That's Poppy, Branch's girlfriend---and wait a second, where's Floyd?" Clay asked, looking for his slightly younger brother.

After explaining why they were there, Bruce spoke up. "Wait, I just realized, you're a dad, too Clay!" He laughed excitedly. Clay grinned from where they were tickling Melody. "Yeah, man! These two are only a few weeks old, but they are amazing! I wouldn't change anything for them."

Melody then started to pull on her father's wild green locks. "Ow! Mel-Mel! Let go! (Y/N), get your demon child!" "Mm-no." snorted (Y/N), as she then gave Clay their son who'd woken up wanting to play with his sister and father. "You traitor!" cried Clay, fighting his grin yelping again when one of the twins grabbed his hair and pulled hard.

Viva and (Y/N) giggled, before finally giving mercy to the CPA. They each took a twin and turned to the group to give Clay a chance to compose themself.

-----------------------------LINE BREAK-----------------------------------

(Y/N) knew it would bother Clay if he didn't try to help his brothers, but she didn't want them in danger.

Clay gave the sleeping twins a kiss on the head before pressing his forehead against hers, cupping her cheek, and wiping away a few tears. "Promise you'll be safe and come home, okay? These babies are too young to be without their dad. And I don't want to be a widow."

Laughing softly, Clay whispered, "I promise," before pressing a kiss to her lips, and let her rush off to stall Viva.

Bruce pat his brother's shoulder and led them to Rhonda. "Don't worry, buddy. We'll get you back to your wife and kids."

-----------------------------LINE BREAK--------------------------------

After freeing Clay and the others freed Floyd, they came to rest at Putt Putt village and picking up (Y/N) and the twins.

Everyone getting along so well, and Bruce offering advice for those first time parent jitters, he could see written all over both of the younger couple's face.

(Y/N) being the most supportive wife,and getting along splendidly with Bruce's wife, Brandi.

The two having a bi monthly moms date, having a monthly girls' night, with Poppy, Viva, Bridget.

Every month, (Y/N) takes her daughter Melody and Brandi brings her daughters for a mommy daughter cousins sisters in law date.

(Y/N) being the Putt-Putt troll preschool teacher, having her kids in class when they're old enough.

Melody and Lallo are both names after music(Melody being the melody of a song, and Lallo means lullaby in Spanish.)

I headcanon that the Putt Putt trolls' two main languages are English and Spanish.

Let me know what you guys think!

@vacayisland

#brozone clay x reader #brozone x reader #clay trolls #trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hangover 1

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Note: can't stop, won't stop. Please leave any and all feedback! 💚💚💚💚💚💚

Part of The Club AU

“Boris, I need that big breakfast,” you call through the window.

“Yeah, yeah,” the cook gristles back as he clinks a plate onto the metal, “you don't wait.”

“It's been twenty minutes,” you rebuff as you take the hot dish and veer around Monica at the counter.

You come around and carry it over to the only customer at a table. The officer came in looking underslept and worse for wear. A bruise is faded to yellow under his eyes and his stubble is just shorter than an actual beard.

“Here you are, honey,” you put on your customer service voice, “more coffee?”

“Yeah,” he puts his phone face down and unwraps the cutlery.

You go to the machine and grab a pot. You return and fill his cup as he jabs at the scrambled eggs.

“There ya go, honey, anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah, stop calling me honey,” he snarls.

“Oh, sorry… sir.”

You back away and retreat back to the counter, offering more top ups as you burn with embarrassment. You suppose you can come on strong when you're looking for tips. Besides, you can't blame him for being grumpy. He seems to have a good reason for it.

You put on a fresh pot as you replace the urn on the burner. You dip behind the counter as Monica brings Vi her tea and egg whites. The old lady is one of the mainstays of the place.

“So,” Monica turns her back to the customers and lowers her voice, “how's Will?”

“I think he's liking college… must be having fun since I never hear from him,” you shrug, “only asks when he can come get his laundry done.”

“Typical, I'm not looking forward to Brandon being that age.”

“Yes, enjoy them while they're young and sweet,” you cluck.

“Waitress!” The cop booms from his table.

“Chipper guy,” Monica mutters under her breath as you turn on your heel.

You go back to the table. You notice the wrinkles in his uniform, the buttons aren't lined up properly either. He has his hand on his forehead. He leans over his plate as his shoulders tense and you see his boy racking.

Oh god, no! You've seen this before. Will would get like this when he brought home the flu.

“Oh no, just…”

You put your hand on his back and urge him over the plate as he pukes. You smell the alcohol then. You rub between his shoulder blades as he retches, not bringing up much more than the few bites he took.

“I'll get ya something,” you pull the towel from your apron and offer him that.

You try not to wrinkle your nose as you pick up his plate and carry it behind the counter. You dump it in the bin as Monica lets out a blech. You agree but you don't want to bring too much attention to the situation.

You go into the kitchen and wash your hands. You find a bucket and bring it out to the cop. He's bent over the table, head on his arms.

“Hon– sir,” you put the bucket on the table, “you want some water?”

He doesn't react. You go and get water for him, setting it by his elbow. He breathes heavily but doesn't move.

“You gonna be sick again?”

“No,” he grumbles, “I'm fine.”

You open your mouth but think better of it. You almost wonder if he's actually a cop. Maybe you should call the real ones.

You leave him and go to hide behind the counter. You have enough to worry about between tuition and your mortgage.

“Guy's a mess,” Monica whispers.

“Just a bit,” you agree.

“It's not even noon…”

“Shhhh, he's having a rough one,” you say, “he'll go eventually.”

“As long as he pays his bill,” she tuts.

“Yeah, let's hope,” you frown and peek over your shoulder. So much for a decent tip.

🍽

The cop leaves about an hour after he got there. You forget quickly with the lunch rush. You spend your last few hours running yourself ragged.

You exchange your apron for your coat and leave through the side door. As you come into the alley, you notice the cruiser parked beside the dumpsters. You sidle by, stopping as you see the figure strewn over the back seat.

It's the same cop that was in the diner. You're content to keep going but your shoe hits a shape that jingles. You look down, a set of keys that can be for nothing other than the car in front of you. Those doors only open from the outside… wow. You won't call the guy a disaster, you can't exactly say you're any better.

You bend and pick up the keys. You unlock the door and open it, the edge hitting the dumpster. You don't know what to do so you just grab the cops ankle and shake his leg.

“Sir,” you raise your voice.

He throws his arm off his head and props himself up on his elbow, “what?”

“Um, you dropped these,” you place the keys by his shoe. “Sorry.”

He grunts but doesn't respond. You back up, leaving the door open. He slowly slides to the edge of the seat and hands his legs out of the car, bracing the door as he wipes the sleep from his eyes.

“Was sleepin’ good,” he growls.

“I… I was just checking on you… are you okay?”

“Does it matter?” He pulls himself up, snatching up the keys and slamming the back door. “Doing just fucking fine.”

“Alright, I wasn't…” you show your palms defensively, “have a good day officer.”

“Thanks, waitress,” he scoffs.

You bite down on his tone. It's not the first time you've been spoken to like that. In your line of work, it's all too common, and as you get more years under you, it's just how it is.

You turn and head towards the street. The engine rolls over behind you and as you near the end, you hear the tires crunching on pebbles. You barely manage to move out of the way as the officer steers into the street. You just stand back and watch him veer off. As bad as your day might be, his seems worse.

#johnny storm #dark johnny storm #dark!johnny storm #johnny storm x reader #drabble #au #series #the club #fantastic four #hangover

[raintailed]

rain rain rain rain how do you draw iterators and slugcats btw like all your gyus are so shaped its so fun to look at theyre just little guys...

i'm gonna start with slugcats! my old guide from 2023 is here.

Note: "slugcat" refers to multiple species (slugcats are in a species complex). It can be hard to differentiate slugcat species, since some are very similar and hybridization between them is common where their ranges overlap. The species that Monk and Survivor are members of is called the "common slugcat."

Slugcats are weird sorta-feline creatures that walk bipedally and have little hands. Their average height is 3'3" or about 1 meter tall.

Their basic body shape is a round head on top of a trapezoidal body. Their legs are digitigrade, they have human-like arms (that are often skinny lol), and their tails are thick and tapering. Slugcats also have retractable arms ig??? I have no idea how that would work

In terms of head shape, it's similar to a cat's, but with a somewhat taller forehead (bigger brain! more room for being Smart!). Slugcats usually have short muzzles, big eyes, and long ears.

Note: slugcat arms usually rest in front of the body (think meerkats) rather than to the sides like a human.

Uhhh I like giving slugcats dewlaps (rabbit dewlaps are a good reference)!

And for fat slugcats, fat is usually stored in the tail (and dewlap) first. So naturally my gourmand has a big tail and a big dewlap :]

And!! I like to think that some slugcats have fur, and some don't. Hairless slugcats are slimy; furred slugcats have oily, waterproof coats. Some shorthaired slugcats have smooth fur like otters and seals do.

TEEFS!!! Except technically, slugcats don't have teeth. Rather, they have sharp, jagged beaks (think cephalopods). Their beaks continually grow and they are self-sharpening. Because their beaks are really sharp, slugcat bites are always serious injuries.

The length of their "fangs" varies by species. Some carnivorous species have long fangs, for example.

And! They have bristly tongues like cats (and kinda like the radula of a gastropod).

For their paws, slugcats have 3-fingered hands and feet. Their claws vary; some individuals have blunt claws, some have sharp claws, others have retractable claws, etc.

The inner toe of a slugcat's foot is opposable, making it easy for them to grab onto poles with their feet. (Compare to scavengers, who mostly use their arms to climb.)

SLUPPIES!!!!!! (don't worry about the fluffy one, they're just eepy)

Slugpups have different proportions than adults! Including having a bigger head, chubbier body, etc. Fluffy slugpups can also be a bit scraggly like longhaired kittens are.

My slugcats are basically egg-laying marsupials. They lay eggs, store them in their pouch, and then the eggs hatch into itty bitty babies. The babies stay in the pouch, feeding on milk until they're big enough to venture outside.

When pups are too big for the pouch, they ride on their parent's head or back. They also begin the process of weaning around this time, since by then they've started growing a sharp beak (i guess before that, their beak is dull and too small to self-sharpen?).

Note: some slugcat species are unisex and others are trioecious (having male, female, and hermaphrodite individuals).

For expressions, ears are important!!

Neutral: ears relaxed. The relaxed position varies by individual; some slugcats have their ears rest slightly tilted back, for example.

Alert/interested: ears perked up.

Angry: ears pinned back. Very angry slugcats have their ears positioned so they're almost in line with the top of the head.

Afraid: ears pinned down (sometimes slightly to the sides, too).

Sad: ears droop to the sides.

Slugcats mostly use their tails for balance, but they're used for some emotes too.

Upwards-curled tail is an excited or enthusiastic hello! Kinda like how some cats raise their tail when they see their human.

When upset, annoyed, or grumpy, slugcats may thump their tail against the ground (kinda like how rabbits stomp).

Some slugcats wag their tails when playing or excited. This isn't a universal thing, though.

Slugcats with fur may puff up their tail when startled or scared. They may also puff their tail when excited or playing, too.

#raintailed's art #raintailed rambles #ask #rain world #rw #rain world headcanons #headcanons #tutorial #art tutorial #long post #for poses i recommend referencing humans cats weasels etc! #also thanks for asking! i'm happy to share how I draw stuff :]

[aphrodisiaxcunt]

Saw you need requests so what's up bbg

What about John Price with a younger gf (like 26, he's canonically near 40) who's worried that he's gonna "realize" he's "better off" with a woman his age? She's by no means immature or childish but sometimes worries there's too much of an age disconnect. Price obviously doesn't give a fuck and reassures her and it's just really sweet and lowkey Hozier coded? 👀

Like the song Be by Hozier (idk but it reminds me of him)

Omg thank you for your request🫶🏻Literally perfect I love Price so much it'll be nice to write something new, hopefully you'll enjoy my work ♡♡ Even though its not really my favourite out of all the things I've written ♡♡ sorry I'm using colored lines, it's just easier for my dumb bunny brain to grasp with colors

☆~♡—Connecting Pieces—♡~☆

Content: Request!Fluff, comfort, Cap Price x gf!reader, younger!woman x older!man, cutesy, domestic

Prices lines are green, Reader lines are orange

Reading time: 4~minutes

You and Price had been 'an item' for roughly over a year now, and it's been nothing short of perfect in your eyes. You've always felt a little more attraction to older men, nothing weird. They're simply just gentlemen compared to the boys your age. But lately, you can't help but kind of worry, although you've always liked older men, Price is your first older partner.

Every day for the past month or two, you've started noticing you and Price don't have that much in common, he's way more experienced in life and everything new to you is old news to him. Stressing over your thoughts as you're standing over your dining room table and attempting doing a puzzle, you don't notice Price until his arms wrap around your waist. Turning your head to look at him with a questioning hum from your throat, he places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Any closer to finishing this yet?" His remarks at your previous attempts of finishing a puzzle make you laugh a bit, turning your head back to the task at hand.

"Nno..not really.. I can't focus." You tilt your head a little to the side, looking for a specific piece from the pile of colourful shapes. Price slides his hand underneath your smaller hand, wrapping his digits with yours as he brings your hand up to his lips to kiss it, the beard and moustache he's so proud of tickling your knuckles.

"What's taking your attention, my love?" His soothing voice is like velvet in your ears, and you gnaw at the inside of your cheek just slightly, thinking if now is really a great time to start mentioning your insecurities.

"It's stupid, really don't worry -" he cuts you off "No no honey, it's clearly bothering you, so it must be important, even a bit, hm?" His words make you sigh. You take a seat, still fiddling with a puzzle piece between your fingers. He lets go of your hand, and instinctively, you pull it back to yourself and use it to assist your other hand at studying the puzzle piece. He takes a seat beside you and scoots the chair closer to yours. "I've just been thinking-" you hold a quick pause, "Of our age gap. Sometimes I feel like you'd be better off with a woman..that's actually your age." Your voice goes quieter the longer you talk. "And maybe some day you'll realize that and leave me.." Looking down, you've stopped moving the puzzle piece around and now just look at the part of a flower on it.

He seems a little dumbfounded, mouth opening and closing in his search for words, and after a couple of useless seconds of searching, he lets out a chuckle. Lifting your head, you see him smiling down at you, his smile lines creased up. "Oh, I see, my dear.. I can assure you that's not the case here. Never has been." Now it's your time to look dumbfounded as you mutter out excuses.

His rough hands move to cradle your head as his thumb tips find their places on your cheekbones, caressing them down in a soothing motion, he hushes you. His eyes locking onto yours, his face is relaxed and a little entertained. "What would make you think of such things?" You completely melt against his hands, leaning your face into his touch, looking for your words. "Sometimes I just feel like we don't have a lot of stuff in common..and when something is new and exciting for me- I'm scared it's boring and repetetive for you.." You close your eyes and tilt your head down, letting your hair droop over your face. Price smiles at you, brushing your hair back behind your ear and lifting your chin. "Oh I promise you, seeing you get excited over something is not boring.." Your eyes flutter open and they meet with his. Before you can start questioning him, he slides his thumb from your cheek onto your lips. You look at him as you place a soft kiss to the tip of his thumb, giving him a small smile.

"I've never felt like our relationship is complicated in that matter, we still love each other..And I don't think having things in common is necessary to that.." You start to blush at his comforting words. This is something you're really starting to wish you would have opened up earlier for conversation. But the important thing is that now he's aware and you're feeling reassured.

"Are we on the same page now dear?" His voice is quiet when he asks, giving him a nod and a "Yeah~..." as an answer. He pulls you in gently by your face, lips pressing into yours. You kiss him back, the scent of tobacco in his breath and the bitter taste on his lips is something you've started to like. You wrap your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his soft hair. The seconds go by fast, too fast as he stops the kiss. Eyes opening to meet yours, he gives you an other reassuring smile, making you blush and avert your gaze back to the puzzle.

"The piece goes here darling.." he points to a spot in the low left corner of the puzzle and you give him a sarcastic 'I knew it' as you place the piece to its respected place.

☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆{}☆

YEAH! The puzzle was a metaphor of relationship issues and talking your problems through, so what? I'm kidding, that was honestly really amazing to write and I hope I pulled through on your request <3 I wasn't sure if I should call him Price or John so I hope that Price is fine

Go follow my ig @aphrodisiax_tumblr for fic release updates!!

#captain john price #john price #cod x reader #cod #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #female writers #captain price #cod fluff #fluff #captain price fluff #captain price x reader #captain price x you

[nekrosdolly]

some bf leon headcanons!!

i imagine reader to be early 20's and leon to be canon age in re4, so 27. hardly an age gap. im projecting a little in this one guys sorry...

cw; aging, mentions of aging, body image issues, scars, low-key depressed leon, nightmares and ptsd, alcoholism if you squint, these were not written to be happy lolll sorry guys! hope y'all like as always!

petnames (reader received); honey

boyfriend leon, whose nightmares wake him up nightly. if they're bad enough, they render him unable to speak. he stays awake to drink enough to get him tired again, and falls asleep. during the nights you stay over, he cuddles up to you and tries his best to take deep, slow breaths like you once instructed him to. within moments, he's okay. then he can talk to you about it.

boyfriend leon, who pretends like his insecurities are non-existent when he's with you but when he looks in the mirror, all he sees is a shell of his former self. a weapon. alone with his thoughts, he traces over every scar he's ever gotten- from the bullet wound from annette birkin's gun on his left shoulder to the thick scar from krauser's blade on his cheek. in his mind, they're ugly. horrible reminders of the past that stick around and haunt him. on top of that, it's not like he doesn't have normal insecurities too.

boyfriend leon, who hates the way he's gotten worry lines on his forehead and if you squint hard enough, crinkles from his furrowed brows. hates the way his hair is turning brown with his age, how his eyes seem so dull. his rage, as deep as it's buried, burns hotter than the sun. he's gained muscle and thus weight, which means he's acquired stretch marks. the first time he notices the stretch marks on his hips, his heart drops. he doesn't let you see him without clothes on for days.

boyfriend leon, who as he gets higher in age, starts covering himself up more. once he hits his thirties, he already feels the effects of old age and he swears he can see it in his physique despite his rigorous training. he starts sleeping with pajamas on instead of just his boxers. you find it funny how he thinks you haven't noticed.

boyfriend leon, who would rather spend the whole day with his face buried in your chest than go out because his days off are few and far between, and you're the only one who makes him feel comforted.

boyfriend leon, who needs you more than you need him. sure, he becomes less dependent as the two of you grow older together, but it's still there. there's not a line he wouldn't cross for you. he could get lost in you for eternity and never get bored.

boyfriend leon, who always reassures you when you need it and even when you don't. he loves making you feel loved and safe, the way you make him. he adores holding your hands, your hips, and waist. your love handles are his favorite things on your body- his hands fit so nicely on them, how could he not be obsessed?

boyfriend leon, who's always tired. the moment you let him lie down on you, he's half-asleep and clingy. his face buried in the nape of your neck, his hands grasping the side seams of your shirt so he can ground himself. he takes a deep inhale, a soft groan escaping him upon exhale. "y'smell good, honey," he murmurs, his voice tired and low. you chuckle softly and rub his upper back.

boyfriend leon, who melts when you stroke his hair. your touch incites a feeling he hasn't had since he was a teenager. a strong electric pulse in his heart followed by a soothing warmth. your hands on his arms, his abdomen, his legs- anywhere. you can get what you want from him just by rubbing his arm and batting your eyelashes, be it monetary or otherwise. it's fair, though, because he does the same to you, only he begs and kisses your face.

#bunnystalker ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ #bunny's blurbs✧˖ ° #bunny's headcanons ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil i love youu #resident evil headcanons #resident evil

[darthrevan-lord-of-the-sith]

a worse foe

The blaster bold freezes in mid air, and Krell and the clones all stare at it as it crumbles to nothing.

"Fives," a voice, filtered through a voice modulator, says softly. "Take Dogma's blaster."

Lord Revan is standing at the entrance to the cellblock, tall and imposing and crackling with the energy they know as the Force. Fives takes the blaster from Dogma and unarms it, then tosses it aside. Dogma looks small at his side as Revan approaches, and lays a gloved hand on the side of his neck, thumb brushing just above where Dogma's blacks end.

"It's alright," Revan says softly, and leans forward slightly. Dogma meets him, resting his forehead against the cool, emotionless metal of Revan's helmet. "Fives, take your little brothers back to the barracks. Rex, can you stay?"

"Yes sir," Rex says. "Jesse? Kix?"

"We can stay, sir," the troopers answer.

"Good," Revan says, and everything is quiet as Fives gathers Tup and Dogma and heads to the barracks.

Once they're gone, the rumbling Rex has felt in the air becomes a roar, and then Krell is slammed against the wall.

"You don't scare me," Krell snarls. "You carry his name, but you are just a knight wearing old armour."

"Is that so?" Revan says, quiet. His hands go to the release clasps on his helmet, there's a hissing sound as the suit depressurises, and Revan lifts the helmet free.

It falls unceremoniously to the floor, and the sound echoes out across the room.

Rex sees Krell's throat contort as he swallows.

Revan's eyes are burning, flickering from red to gold to green, every line of his handsome face twisted in rage. His hands are clenched, muscles shaking, the Force roiling around him like a cloak. "You believe you can control the Dark?" Revan asks, and he pulls an unfamiliar lightsaber from inside his robes. "You believe you could be a Sith? You are nothing. You are an insect, vermin, compared to the Sith I have known. Have trained. Have inspired!"

The saber lights, and a ruby blade illuminates the room.

Krell's body is lying smoking and decapitated only a few hours later, tortured with lightning and lightsaber and terrible mind tricks that leave him screaming and babbling for mercy. For death.

Rex doesn't feel sorry for him as he picks up the decapitated head and hands it, smoking stump and all, to Revan, whose eyes still flicker between red and gold and green, but he's relieved to see the green appear more often than any other colour.

"Did Wolffe tell you?" Revan asks, taking the head and shoving it into a cryo-bag. "About-"

He holds up the lightsaber with the red blade, giving Rex a pointed look.

"You being a four thousand year old Dar'Jetii who is also the hero of the bedtime stories Fett used to tell the CC's?" Rex says. "No. General Skywalker complains about you a lot, some of that confidential information slipped out and Ahsoka filled in the rest."

Revan nods. "I want Dogma transferred," he says. "The 104th would be better for him that the 501st, he's lost his trust in the Jedi...Plo will be good for him."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Jesse asks.

Revan nods, and picks up his helmet.

"You'd be better for this army if you took command," Jesse says. "If you're really...really the Conquering Jedi-" Revan sighs at the title "-then you should be leading us, not the Council, not the Senate. You...you've done this before. You beat a better army than Grievous and Dooku."

"Mand'alor the Ultimate was a challenging opponent, yes," Revan says. "But after, the Republic faced a worse foe, one I could not defeat."

"Who?" Kix asks, always one for the stories. His eyes are big and full of wonder.

"Me," Revan says, and puts his helmet on. "The reason the Jedi don't want me heading an army is because they're worried I will turn it against them, like I did the last time someone gave me an army."

"But you wouldn't!" Jesse exclaims.

"Maybe I might," Revan says. "Perhaps I might start a war over you all."

#star wars #kotor #tcw #darth revan #captain rex #jesse #clone medic kix #clone trooper dogma #pong krell #umbara arc #clone wars Revan AU

[joestvr]

༺✮ atashi no kimyona jinsei // あたしの奇妙な人生 ✮༻

༺✮ summary: five years after the fall of diavolo, you, y/n romano, who was sent away to japan at 11 to further your studies—find the courage to come back to naples after living out your schoolgirl & gaijin university student facade in morio-chou to see how your clan’s worsened—as well as become the “donna” of your father’s gang, il terrore, while your older brother is the real leader behind the scenes, just using you as a front. with plans to murder your clan, you seek the particularly handsome young don of passione for friendship. with your tyrant father’s intervention, your friendship with the don turns to something you never saw coming.

★ 1 // il terrore

★ 2 // bella

★ 3 // viva romano

You and Alima woke up at 3 am to prepare.

You decided to wear a red V-cut shirt lined with lace and a black miniskirt with a small slit on the thigh. As for shoes, you wore your favorite black Prada pumps.

You walked downstairs quietly, rubbing your forehead.

"Ohayo..." You yawned as you walked into the kitchen, Alima handing you a cup of coffee.

"Ohayo. How'd you sleep?" She asked, going to sit at the dinner table across from you.

"Fine, but I could hear talking from you and Alexander's room almost all night. The hell was that about?" You raised an eyebrow.

She laughed. "He was talking to Jotaro. You know they're best friends."

"What about?"

"The usual... How's the wife, how's Jolene, how's the old man... etcetera. Don't worry." She said reassuringly.

You sighed again and walked over to the library section of the mansion with her, running your fingers over some books until you found the right one, taking it out, getting a key from the empty space, walking to the next room, the tea room.

Your hands hovered over the side of the walls until you found the correct place, then put the key inside and turned it, the vault room behind being revealed.

The vault was filled with Stand Arrows, Requiem Arrows, guns, gold, silver, jewels, family portraits, pictures from your childhood.

"Get whatever you want," you said to Alima, "couldn't give any less of a shit on what goes."

You picked up a pistol, cocked it, then put it under your skirt, tucking it in your shorts, turning away.

★★★★★★★

It was already 5 am. You and Alima had at least 6 cups of coffee, and felt ready for the day.

You blowed out your hair, did your makeup, and tried to look like you weren't about to have a mental breakdown.

Vince and Alexander came downstairs together, laughing. Leo and Elena sleepily followed behind them.

Alexander went over to Alima and hugged her tight. "I can't come today. Have some work to do in the next town over..."

He looked at Leo. "Stay here and babysit your sister. You guys can go out, but BE CAREFUL." He raised his finger in his son's face.

Leo nodded and rolled his eyes. "Sure, old man."

Alexander scoffed then kissed Alima. "Bye, amore. Bye Sis, stay safe."

He waved then left, putting on his hat. You turned to Leo and Elena.

"Leo."

"What's up?"

"Your mother, Vince, and I have some work to do today. Go upstairs until we leave, okay?" You reached up to his head and ruffled his hair.

"Okay. I'll take Elena out later." He said, picking up Elena and going upstairs.

10 minutes passed, and there was violent knocking on the door. You rushed over and opened it to see Giorno and the others.

"Ohayogozai—" you stopped yourself then cleared your throat, "Sorry. Buongiorno."

"This girl is fucking Japanese. Why is she even running a whole gang?" said Abbachio angrily as they walked inside.

Bucciarati shot him a piercing glare and hit his shoulder.

"Fuck off, Abbachio!" said Narancia, then turned to you, "Sorry about him. He's just angry because you're an unconventionally pretty girl running a gang. He's not very popular with women..." He laughed.

Fugo smacked Narancia and he yelped.

"So.. Uh.. Why don't we head out?" you said abruptly, then looked at Alima as she walked upstairs quickly and came back down with her burgundy Chanel bag and your black one.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and grabbed your keys. The men watched in awe.

"You two are taking God damn purses to a mission? Bucciarati, tell me this is a fucking joke—"

"Abbachio, that's about enough." Giorno said, his voice stern.

"Can we get going?" Trish said from the back.

"What she said. Abbachio, it's 5 in the fucking morning, get inside the car." Mista said.

Abbachio scowled loudly and went outside into the car.  Everyone followed.

(seating plan cs idk how to explain it in words☠️ bucciarati is driving btw)

"How long is the car ride going to be?" Trish asked.

"One hour," said Bucciarati, who turned the car on, "then it will likely take half an hour to infiltrate the place."

"Seriously?" Mista groaned.

The car went silent for the next 45 minutes, until your flip-phone started ringing. You struggled to find it as you dug through your bag.

You found it and opened it, seeing the contact name Hirose Koichi, then answered.

"Moshi Moooosh?"

"Yo, Y/n-chan. Did you arrive back in Naples safe?" He asked, speaking in Japanese.

"Yahou, Koichi-kun. Yeah. I'm in the car right now with some friends.."

Giorno's head shot towards you upon hearing the name "Koichi"

"Cool! Where to?"

"Etto... I'm on a mission, not sure where we're going," you cleared your throat, wanting to change the subject, "How's Yukako-chan?"

"Yukako is good. She's so busy with the wedding preparations, I'm afraid she's forgotten about me." He chuckled.

You laughed. "If only I could have a relationship like yours, Koichi-kun. Anyway, I've gotta get going."

"Alright. Good talking to you, Y/n-chan."

"Say hello to Jotaro-san and Josuke-kun for me. Ja ne."

"Ja mata."

You closed your phone and put it back in your bag. Vince was staring you down.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"How many guys are you talking to? Jesus, Y/n." He furrowed his eyebrows.

"How many bitches are you playing with?" You retorted.

"Shut the hell up!" He pushed you by your face.

"Hey! This foundation cost me 15,000 yen from the Dior store in Kyoto! Don't touch me." You gasped and took your pocket mirror out, making sure your foundation base didn't get ruined.

Alima leaned over and slapped the back of his head. He groaned. "Ugh, you bitch!"

You turned around to say something to Trish, but saw that Narancia had fallen asleep in her arms, her eyes were closed.

You smiled with pride, and noticed Giorno doing the same.

Your eyes met and you both blushed then looked away.

"Uh... GioGio, you don't mind if I smoke while we're in here, do you?" You questioned, reddening.

"O-Oh, go ahead." He grinned slightly.

You reached over Vince and rolled down the window. Vince looked at you and smirked at your suggestive position.

You cracked up a little and sat back again, taking out a cigarette, sticking it in your mouth, lighter no where to be found.

Vince lit one of his own, then pulled you towards him to transfer the flame.

Giorno was stunned.

I can't fall in love with her, he thought, look at what she has.

"Bucciarati, pull over! I need to piss!" said Mista.

"Yeah, me too!" shouted Fugo from the back.

"What the hell?..." Alima whispered. You giggled, smoke coming out of your mouth. The car pulled over by a gas station and the doors opened. Vince got out.

"I'm going to buy cigarettes." He said, looking at you.

"Can you get me a coffee?" You asked hopefully.

"No."

You frowned and the rest of the people who needed to go got out. It was only you and Giorno, Narancia and Trish, who were fast asleep.

You continued smoking silently, and Giorno sat there taking in your beauty. "So, Bella. Can I ask you something a bit personal?"

You turned to him. "Sure. What is it?"

"Are... You, uh... and Vince...together?"

You gasped and shook your head. "Ew, no! I would never!"

Giorno let out a sigh of relief and smiled amusingly. "Oh."

You sighed and leaned in closer to whisper, "He's not what you think he is, GioGio. Whatever he may seem to you, don't believe it."

Giorno grew flustered and could only stare at your eyes, then your lips. He snapped out of it and nodded his head.

"I see..." He managed to muster out.

★★★★★★★★

Later, you and the group finally arrived at the warehouse docks you were supposed to bust.

Vince got out and was standing there waiting impatiently, "Y/n, get out!"

"I caaan't moooove... Pick me uuuup..." You pouted, holding your hands out.

"No! Bye." He walked off into the distance.

Giorno had already gotten out of the car and was outside the open car door, "Bella." He held his hand out, smiling.

Your face lit up slightly and you took his hand, going into his arms as he picked you up and helped you out of the seat.

As he put you down, you thanked him and looked at Trish, who was holding onto Narancia's arm.

"Word has it that some big dealer within Il Terrore would be distributing 15 kilos of coke at this warehouse, Romano." Abbachio said to you in a bitrer, condescending tone.

You only showed a reaction on your face when he called you by your last name, flinching slightly. You struggled to keep your composure at that.

Trish and Alima grew wary, knowing how you hated being called by your last name. You took a deep breath.

"P-Please, call me... Y/n." You said shakily, turning to him.

Abbachio was about to say something back, but Bucciarati sensed your discomfort and burst out, "Abbachio, enough of this! You need to respect the Donna or I'm calling a taxi and sending you home."

Abbachio scoffed and didn't respond.

"Y/n, look there." Trish suddenly said, pointing to the warehouse in the distance. You saw people going inside.

"Everyone, Let's split up." Bucciarati said, "Abbachio will come with me. Y/n and Giorno, you two go together. Mista, go with Trish. Narancia, go with Fugo."

"Vince, go with Alima." You said sternly.

"Why do I have to get stuck with this old lady, Tesora?" He whined.

"Vince, I'm going to punch you so hard you'll go flying back to Kabul to see your father. Have some respect."

"Fuuuck you!" He raised his middle finger at you while Alima crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

Trish looked at you, a bit worried, this was your first mission in a while. "Be careful." was all she said before Mista pulled her away.

Everyone split up and went different directions, Giorno was cautiously walking beside you.

"Do we know if they're stand users?" Giorno asked quietly as he held your hand going down the steep stairs.

"Probably not. I don't think there's been any new stand users within Italy since the fatass Polpo committed suicide..." You responded in a low tone.

Giorno swallowed dryly, remembering how he caused Polpo's death. "Ah, I see."

"Though I don't know what my father's been up to—" Your speech was interrupted as a bullet came flying toward your back, but Cheri Lady's arm appeared and caught it right as it nicked your shoulder.

Giorno gasped.

"Ita..." You hissed softly, putting your hand over the wound, blood gushing at a slow pace.

The bullet was dropped inside your palm, and you recognized the engraving inside. A heart and a star, with that same phrase you were so familiar with right next to it.

♡☆Viva Romano

Your anger grew within, blood boiling.

"Fuck..." you muttered.

"Fuck!"

"What is it?" Giorno asked.

"These bullets are only manufactured and given to established members of Il Terrore." You took your gun out from under your skirt, unloading the chamber, taking out a bullet and showing Giorno it, then the bullet that was shot at you.

Giorno's eyes widened at the comparison, they were identical.

"Viva Romano..." He said, then looked down at you again, "The phrase associated with Il Terrore..."

You grew nervous and started to scratch at your skin anxiously.

Ever since you were a kid, whenever you were at your wits end or you were apprehensive, you would scratch and pick at your skin until you bled.

Giorno noticed this, and you weren't stopping until blood started to gush out of your forearm and upper arm.

"Y/n—" He grabbed your wrist, stopping you. Your hand was trembling.

You furrowed your eyebrows, sweat trickling down your forehead. "Uragirimono... Traitors."

"Who do you think it is?" He let go of your wrist, but continued to hold your hand.

"I don't know. I don't know... I— I'm— How could this have happened?" Your eyes widened.

"Don't worry, Bella. Please." He squeezed your hand as you continued to walk again.

"Fuck this... I can't believe he allowed this to happen." You whined.

"Who?" He asked.

"Vince, that fucking bastard!" You hissed angrily.

Suddenly, Giorno yanked you under him and into a corner, his right hand reflexively going around your waist. You blushed.

"Gio—" He pulled his left hand away from yours and pressed it over your mouth, leaning in close to your face.

"Shh. We're right next to the entrance to the warehouse." He whispered, his golden hair falling off his shoulders attractively.

You were desperately trying not to moan. How could you have gotten turned on in a situation like this?

There were loud shots being fired, and Giorno flinched, going closer to you, his knee going slightly in between your legs.

Don't moan, don't moan, don't moan, don't moan... DON'T MOAN... was all that was going through your head.

"Mmph—" You moaned, gripping his shirt. He looked at you and removed his hand from your mouth, not noticing your lipstick transferred onto his palm.

"Sorry." He muttered, helping you up.

When the two of you finally managed to get inside of the warehouse, you made Giorno conceal himself behind some shelves, while you walked to the middle where there was a large crate sitting there.

Your heels clacked as you approached, Cheri Lady appearing and breaking the crate open. Packages with a white powder inside of them fell out. Each had to be at least 1 kilo, you thought.

You took a pocket knife out from your pocket and sliced one open, the powder pouring out.

You took a handful in your palm and sniffed it.

It smelled... sweet?

You dropped the handful and licked the tip of your finger. Of course.

You started to laugh quietly.

"You thought you could fool them with this shit..." You chuckled.

Giorno was horrified.

Bucciarati and Abbachio burst inside, then the others, seeing you so humored.

"Y/n, what the fuck is this?!" Vince shouted.

Your laugh grew quieter as your aura flared up, glowing a deep red.

Cheri Lady appeared from behind some other shelves, a man in her grasp.

The man, who you knew, was Vince's friend, Francesco Minardi.

"Y—Y/n?! You fucking bitch!" He yelled.

"Francesco?!" Vince gasped.

You sighed then took a deep breath, grabbing the man by his collar and making him stand up, then shoving him back to the ground again.

You took the gun out from under your skirt and started fidgeting with it in your hand. "Back in Morio-chou, none of the dangerous Yakuza families dared to step foot there because they were too afraid— Why?"

"I had struck a deal with the son of an influential clan within the Yakuza to stop the drug flow to the part of Japan I was living in. But..." You inhaled, "I found out soon after that he was plotting to murder me in cold blood and start up drug production again—"

Cheri Lady appeared and grabbed him by his collar, you leaned in. "I took a day off from school and delivered his head on his father's doorstep. And that was it.."

"You cold, unfeeling whore... Why are you here?! I thought you ran off!" He shouted, then groaned when you kicked him in the chest.

"Uragirimono," you said softly, "Traitor. That's what you are."

"I wanted out! I'm sick of your stupid family!"

"It's been 5 years, Francesco, and you still didn't grow the balls to call me and tell me you wanted out... I could've made arrangements for you... You betrayed me... Uragirimono..." You kept fidgeting with the gun. The urge to kill was making you delirious with longing for bloodshed.

"Your father is nothing but a tyrant who abuses his loyal subjects! Who wouldn't want to betray him?!" He shouted back, spitting blood out of his mouth.

You were shaking with anger. It was taking the strength of a million soldiers to not rip him apart.

"Oh really? What about me? The gem of the Romano family, the most beautiful?" You teased, making Alima sigh at your arrogant tendencies despite the situation. Giorno nearly smiled.

"Kill yourself, Y/n! I'm sure it won't be too hard, since everyone knows about your suicidal tendencies! Ha!" He screamed, laughing condescendingly.

You smiled and Cheri Lady disappeared, while he dropped to his knees.

You took a few steps away from him, cocking the gun, holding it to your head. "Let's see then, hm?"

Giorno gasped and tried to go after you, but Bucciarati yanked him back. "Control yourself. She knows what she's doing."

You pulled the trigger, a shot was fired, but you still stood.

In between your head and the gun, there was a ghostly red hand holding the bullet, then dropped it.

"Keep pulling stunts like this, Romano. You and your entire family will die brutally. Start off with your father..." He muttered, then laughed.

"Morte al Romano..." You whispered before firing once, blood splattering on your face, then throwing the gun aside as his body dropped.

You signaled for everyone to exit the warehouse.

Sticking a cigarette in your mouth as you approached the dim rising sun, you took out your lighter and lit your cigarette.

You took one last look at the engraving on your lighter then threw it onto the crates behind you.

"Morte al Romano." You murmured again as the warehouse was engulfed in flames.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo #giorno giovanna x reader #giorno #giorno giovanna #giorno x reader #golden wind #vento aureo #jojos #ok

[actual-changeling]

25!!!!! with your angel hubbies!!!! 💕

i'm biting you, you could not have known but "look at me" is a Thing in this fandom and it drives me insane

-

Despite not having to sleep, Crowley has a lot of bad nights. Mostly because sleep is the only time he gets an opportunity to escape the memories chasing him during his waking hours, yet it also brings the danger of them catching up to him. Sometimes the nightmares sinking their claws into his consciousness are familiar, faceless figures watching as he burns alive and his ethereal essence melts away. Other times they're nothing but fragments of fear and pain taking the shape of licking flames or Aziraphale's dead features crumbling within his hands.

No matter what has him shooting upright at three in the morning with sweat-soaked sheets and shallow, panicked breaths, it sticks to him for the rest of the day. If he can, he spends the daylight hours curled up in his flat with the television quietly keeping him company in the background, but today is Tuesday, and he promised to spend the day at his bookshop while he takes inventory.

Sure, technically he could simply call him up and cancel, but the angel would worry and fret until Crowley gave in and agreed to him coming over, and he would gladly take the chance to escape the stretching concrete walls of his flat.

The drive is quick and quiet, yet even in the comfortable confines of the bookshop, he finds himself unable to shake the paranoia blanketing him like a cloak, fear one unfortunate stray thought away.

Crowley keeps on his glasses, and at first Aziraphale is satisfied with glancing at him more than usual, chattering away despite his lack of response. The hours tick by, and his anxiety continues to keep him tense and corned on the couch, his eyes flicking between the entrance and Aziraphale, waiting for an attack that (likely) won't come or hints of smoke drifting up from between the shelves. Nightmares drain him, and fatigue scratches on his bones with increasing urgency until a dropped paperweight almost makes him jump out of his skin, his heart immediately racing as his blood pumps in expectation of a fight.

"Alright, that's it," Aziraphale says, bending down to pick it up. "What's wrong, my dear?"

"Nothing," he presses out between gritted teeth, the lie so unconvincing that he immediately drops any pretence of being alright. Aziraphale nudges his legs to the side and sinks down next to him, their thighs touching, and turns towards him.

"Just a bad night, angel, I'm worried, is all."

"About?"

"You," Crowley admits, his voice slipping into a whisper, and heat creeps up his cheeks until he cannot tell whether it is the fear or shame making him lightheaded. His eyes are anywhere but on Aziraphale.

A cool hand lands on his cheek, and he swallows the urge to flinch, allowing him to gently nudge his cheek to the side. Even in the low light of the bookshop, his eyes are a sparkling blue, worry etching lines between his brows that he yearns to smooth out.

"Look at me, darling."

Crowley does, pressing his face into his palm and taking his glasses off with a defeated sigh. The smile Aziraphale gives him in return finally makes some of the fear in the back of his neck bleed away.

"There you are," he says softly, tipping forward so their foreheads lean against each other, "and here I am, completely fine and safe. Nothing will happen to me."

Breathing in the familiar smell of his angel, old books, and tea, a hint of vanilla, and something electric and ethereal, Crowley's eyes flutter shut. Trusting Aziraphale comes as easily to him as breathing and feels even more natural, and although there is no logical reason for him to accept his assurance as the truth, the anxious spark inside his chest fades to a low glow.

"There we are."

#alex answers asks #alex writes good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #half-tempted to put this on ao3

[thesoulesscollection]

Oooooo Soulless!!! Tell us more about Choc, Carol and Reginald! The people want to know!📸📸🗣🎤📷📸

Thank you for this lovely question. 😌🤲. I'm currently rotting my brain with Choc anyways so I've been wanting to do this. Also, thank you personally for allowing me to ramble and sorry this took me a while. I'm like mentally all over the place. 

Now they're growing on me now, as an odd couple dynamic I'm starting to love. This is kinda an Au I'm playing with since the ship is slowly growing on me. Hope this is what you asked for and it's enjoyable to read. 

The three are in a polycule. Kinda hard to explain here what they got together. Kinda somewhere in the queer spectrum 

Carol and Reginald were already in an existing, established relationship for some time prior. Where Choc was introduced way later on into it by Carol, smitten with him, “He makes me laugh” A line she uses to explain it. 

Reginald was hesitant to bring the man into their relationship, the two of them have a close bond and so he had felt out of place when the idea came across. 

^ I like to think that Choc & Reginald have an antagonistic, rivalry sort of  relationship. They get on each other like oil and water. Nearly always at each other's throats.

^ Understandably wary, it took quite some time for Reginald to really get at ease around Choc and was aloof with the man. (Choc appears to be more than he seems) 

^ Similar to an old married couple arguing but add onto some vicious snarkiness into the mix like you wouldn't believe. Unfortunately Carol has to act as the middleman between the two with the last brain cell.

Whereas Choc gets along surprisingly well with Carol who does enjoy that he can make her smile and the day a lot brighter so easily. 

Choc enjoys gifting the pair incredibly corny shirts with cheesy images or sayings that he gets from somewhere, he doesn't say. Carol loves them but Reginald cringes from it. Says it's not in his style, Choc thinks it's him being a finicky, prissy hardass

Whenever Reginald is busy at work or flying the airship, Choc is throwing out a pun/joke to pass the time. Nonstop chattering on his end, some jokes at the chief's aggravated expense

Out of the three, Choc is the type to initiate more intimacy and affection, while also taking stuff that belongs to them since it reminds him of the other two. 

Now onto a short one shot of the three together. It's simple and not the best but hey, I liked it. This is my first time actually writing Choc so you'll get to see him in more depth;

***

Reginald so desperately wanted to bash his face into the wheel of the airship but he resists the temptation. 

He never seems to shut up, he keeps going and going on, his voice projects loudly in the spacious area. His highly infectious laughter rings in the chief's ears. 

“Hey, chief. May I say something? I'm really worried about the airship’s well-being” Choc said, a toothy smile on his face, gold fangs out on display. The chief in question, eyes squarely up ahead, his only response, a tired grunt as the man shrugged, continued. “With the bright light from the sun reflecting off your forehead, aren't you worried as I am that it'll blind someone?” 

Suddenly, Reginald hears the chuckles by the other members in the room range from muffled and polite to outright and proud. He is shaking, tightening his hold on the wheel. Whatever Carol sees in the candy maker is beyond him. 

“What? I'm genuinely concerned here. Can't I be that now? Getting worse by each passing day. Can see my own reflection” As the joke is made worse, Choc leaned in, in playful mockery, checking himself out. 

“Kinsley. I am trying to fly. So please. Not at this precise moment do I want to do this with you” 

Choc hovers above him then stands, a smirk stretches the lengthy scars on his sun kissed face, “It's alright, Reg. It's a joke. C'mon now laugh with us” He laughs, roughly patting the chief's tense shoulder, “It's quite alright that you're so follically impaired” 

Another rumble in the room gave Reginald a stronger desire to hit something. However, in his fortune, his eyes flicker over to the corner of the room and sees Carol standing next to the door. She is smiling stiffly it seems, not laughing which Reginald is so relieved for inside and soon she's by them, tugging at Choc's sleeve to get his attention. 

“Choc. C'mon. Let him be,” She calmly states to the man, who in the good forethought nods and goes with her. “I need you for something anyways so come” Her hand is outstretched for him to take and he does, not before he takes a curious glance behind, catches the Chief's eyes. The expression on the candy maker's face is unreadable and Reginald couldn't stand it.

“Thank you” Reginald whispers, barely loud that only he knew Carol can hear him. She hums. 

How he's going to get along with that joke of a man, he doesn't know. 

#Answered Ask #catisteard #Ask Away #Oc X Canon #Canon X Oc #Thsc Oc #Choc Kinsley #Henry Stickmin Collection #Thsc Au #Carol Cross #Reginald Copperbottom #The Henry Stickmin Collection #Toppat Clan #Long Post #Toppat Oc

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Hi <3

Idk about about this but, can you write headcannons about Lucien and angel if they ever had a fight, or just like angst

Tysm<3

Lucien and Angel, time is a cruel thing.

Okay so, we all know Angel is human. And what do mortals have that demons don't? A shorter life time.

Time is different for a demon, Lucien sometimes speaks of the dark ages like they were yesterday. Which confuses Angel and Lucien has to remember they're in the 21 century.

As time goes on with Lucien and Angel. The big red demon sees how time is wearing Angel down.

Their face has more lines on, their body gets tired easily now, and so much more. Lucien is wondering why he didn't see this.

Angel always waves him off saying how it's nothing, but Lucien just doesn't want to admit. Angel is getting older, and....when mortals get older they age...

Lucien tries to make the two do things they use to when Angel was in their 20s. Going on dates, walking in parks, and going out to eat on special occasions.

But when they go out in public people still thing Lucien is a weird cosplayer that hangs around a old person.

Angel enjoys these things with him, but...they're getting tired more.

their hands move slowly to pick up a cup form a coffee shop Lucien found for them.

He tries not to notice unless Angel says if he could get a straw for them.

"I'll pull a hip if I get up too suddenly dear." "Don't worry Angel I'll get you the best straw!"

Lucien is having to help Angel more, the Apartment is on the higher levels so when the elevator is down they have to take the stairs.

Lucien hates how weak Angel's hand feels on him. He guides them carefully up the stairs every time, because once...they almost fell hard on their back.

Lucien was a bit in front of them when they slipped but snapped to them to make sure they were okay. They were just surprised, but it really stuck with Lucien.

Then one day, Angel lying on their bed told him

"I think it's time." Lucien snapped his eyes open at those words. What? Looking at Angel who had a clam face as they touched his.

"Red..." No no no no no! Lucien looked at the clock, it was 4:23 in the morning. He just wanted to hold them close a little bit more. "Lucien." A soft tone filled his ears as he finally looked at his mortal lover. Mortal, he's started to despise that word when Angel almost fell down the stairs.

"Yes?...Angel?" Soft grumble of his words made them smile, he loved that smile will all of himself. But it seemed so tired, almost too much for Angel to do in their old body. Angel and tired doesn't seem right in the same sentence, considering how they would always give Lucien a run for his money years before.

"Lucien, I'm getting older now. I...think it's almost time I leave." Hands gripped them tighter as Lucien shook his head. A tired sign filled his ears as Angel lightly tugged him to their chest. "Red, love of my heart and soul. You know this already. You do own me, my soul I mean." Lucien nodded his head. He could see how much longer Angel had on this earth, he fucking hated it. Angel kissed his forehead, he finally lowered his eyes to their hands. Old, weathered and wrinkled. Hands that held him carefully with love for so, so many years.

"How much longer, dear?" Lucien felt tears fall as he began to feel his chest heave for breath. "F....Forty minutes, Angel love." Giggling was heard, it was so tired, so soft. Just like his Angel love. "I see, hold and talk to me for those Forty minutes?" Lucien nodded. And talked like his life depended on it, all the things they did over the years coming to him like a waterfall. The fights, love, and acceptance that they shared over the years making him tear up even more.

Then, it was three minutes till. "Almost time huh?" Angel said smiling to their lover, their partner, hopefully for all eternity. Lucien nodded as he held them tighter "Yes, Angel." Silence meet him as he listened to their heartbeat. It always soothed him when he felt like an emotional mess, it started to beat slower.

please....please no....Lucien almost prayed. Ironic isn't it? For a demon to pray for a soul to stay with them? Angel deserved peace not to be stuck with him forever. He learned that the hard way, but what if....a selfish part of himself began to speak "Keep them forever." Lucien shook his head. But then Angel spoke "I hope we're together no matter what." Lucien began to sob as he felt their breath fade away.

When he stopped Lucien tried to keep himself together as Angel's soul rose above him. "Lucien!" They smiled as they flew around him in circles, their energy they lost around 53 coming back to them. "Look! Look! I'm flying!!" Lucien smiled and he saw a beacon of light flow through the door of the bedroom. Deciding a answer he turned to his lover "Angel love, I want you to be in peace." Angel froze looking at him.

"What?" Quietly as they float down to him. He smiled at them "I, Lucien, one of the princes of hell. Free you, Angel." Shock on their face almost made him laugh. Almost like when he caused a fire the first time int he apartment. "NO! WAIT-" Angel tried to yell but the door opened, a silhouette showed itself, Angel grabbed Lucien's hard harshly glaring at the being of light.

"NO! I WANNA STAY WITH YOU!" Lucien shook his head, "Your a Angel...and I'm a demon. I can't hold you back from peace." The being then stepped forward "Child. It's time to leave." Angel tried to speak but Lucien slipped their hand off and pushed them lightly to the being of light.

"Go, well meet again. Don't worry." Angel was then taken from him. They were screaming at him not to let them go, Lucien opened a portal to hell. Screams of the damned pushed themselves over the screams of his lover. This is where he belongs, not his Angel love and so he stepped through the portal.

#OOOHHH WE COOKIINNN #currently writing this in Journalism class #yuurivoice angst #yuurivoice #red rants #red answers #red writes #yuurivoice lucien

[thatlittleegyptologist]

My high school AP art history teacher once stated that ancient Egyptian art looks largely “the same” because the religion didn’t change until Akhenaten created a monotheistic religion, only then do we see naturalism emerge in art a la Queen Nefertiti’s bust. At this point I’m aware that this is a bad take, but I was wondering if you might be able to unpack it a bit more. Reading about how ancient Egypt spanned a six thousand year period makes me feel like it couldn’t be possible for there to only be one stylistic evolution in their art, or that there were no religious movements besides the one Akhenaten led.

Yeah, that's a trash take. Unpacking it a 'bit' more is quite an undertaking, especially since I'm being asked to unpack 6000 years of artistic changes. There are more changes than just the Amarna period, as well as there being more than one religious change.

First off, I'm going to paraphrase this post by @rudjedet on art, with her express permission, because frankly I do not have the spoons to fully address artistic change over 6000 years in any meaningful way. It's a lot to ask of someone outside of an actual research project. So, with that being said, be prepared for this to get long because this is a long question with a lot to unpack. All images will have their id in alt text.

So, art. It changes quite a bit, but the changes happen over centuries, rather than defined blocks in time for 'styles', and they're really not that noticeable to the untrained eye. The Egyptians also strived to keep their art style the same way On Purpose, which I feel I've talked about a lot over the past few days, but we've circled back to it again. To talk about art I'm going to borrow Sonja's use of statuary for examples.

The Ancient Egyptians always portrayed themselves as an ideal. What that ideal was did change over time - in the Old Kingdom, it was a man in the prime of his life, strong and fit. See for example this statue of Menkaure:

All Egyptians in their art and their tombs sought to present themselves this way, as this is how they would appear in the Afterlife and also because art is imbued with Heka meaning that you don't want to show yourself looking out of shape or that could come true. For Menkhaure, this is supposed to reflect his strong leadership and virility. Remember, Egyptian art is about image propaganda. This is why it largely tends to follow certain trends that people mistake for being 'static'.

This propagandistic projection was still largely the case in the Middle Kingdom/early Twelfth Dynasty (so when Senwosret I ruled), but it did shift to a portrayal of the king as a man with a care-worn face and big ears, to indicate that he was very concerned with the well-being of his subjects. This was largely due to the fact that there had been famine, and the people of Egypt had suffered. So, what better way of showing you care is to reflect that in the statuary.

This is a head of a statue of Senwosret III, and you can see that while he still looks like a fit ruler, still youthful, he has considerable lines in his face and around his mouth, bags underneath his eyes, and even a wrinkle in his forehead. This is meant to display his worry and concern for Egypt. His ears are large and sticking out, which we’re relatively certain wasn’t a portrayal of reality, but as stated above was a way to indicate a predisposition to listen to both the gods, and his subjects. Senwosret II also does this, but going further back you can see the statuary of Senwosret I is all smiles. This change occurs over less than 100 years, and then after this period changes back to the above style. Tomb art in this period, while remaining the same aesthetically, moves from fully carved to painted, as colour beings to be introduced to more private spaces.

Towards the New Kingdom we see a reversal towards the strong and fit archetype, but with far more of an emphasis on youthful facial appearances. See, for example, this statue of Thutmose I:

(Fun thing: the number of times I see this statue but people have labelled it as Hatshepsut because it's a little more feminine in the face is a very large number).

Round, plump cheeks that display an extremely youthful look. He looks like he’s barely out of puberty when he's likely a grown man at this point. Again, it's propaganda. He's projecting the image he wants people to see, and the image Kings want people to see in Egypt really doesn't change all that much.

Then the Amarna Period happens. And… well you already know about that. Akhenaten seems to break all molds for Egypt, pushing religion, the capital city, foreign relations, and even art all out the window in a very short amount of time.

But it's definitely hyperbole to say he did this out of the blue. I definitely need to point out here that new changes to the art style were already happening under his father, Amenhotep III, and grandfather, Thutmose IV, at least, but the changes there are still relatively subtle. Religion is also changing at this time, but I'll get to that in a bit.

You can see it well in this sculpted head of Amenhotep III, though:

A slightly elongated face, very pronounced lips, almond-shaped, large eyes. If you didn't know, most of you would probably automatically assume this was a piece from the Amarna period. Akhenaten then, almost overnight, just went all-in with this:

The biggest differences between this and the head of Amenhotep III, you’ll see, aren’t so much in the face, but in the body. Akhenaten has round hips and a soft belly, instead of the rock hard musculature that previous kings had themselves portrayed with. It would be inaccurate to use the term “more realistic”, as some people are wont to do, because it implies that Akhenaten truly looked exactly like that and by all accounts it is rather unlike Egyptians to not, in some way, show a perfected version of a thing or person. But it is probably true that a lot of Egyptian rulers had a “good life” belly on them in real life. In fact, it's common throughout all periods to have at least one statue of yourself with fat rolls as it demonstrates wealth and prosperity i.e. the ability to have enough food.

Then we move into the post-Amarna period, and while there we see a return to the more stylised portrayals of pre-Amarna art, the belly and a more subtle version of the fat rolls remain. You can see it in this statue of the Treasurer Maya (on the right, his wife Merit is sat next to him):

Even after this period, when you tend to get Late Period kings trying to replicate older periods and not quite getting the proportions right, the art still evolves and changes. It's just that the overall aesthetic, remains pretty much the same. As I said before this is a deliberate action on the part of the Egyptians. They wanted it to remain the same due to their obsession with archaism and keeping Egypt in it's Golden Age (the Old Kingdom). What you see as static, isn't really at all, but you've got to know the difference between the time periods in order to see the often subtle differences.

As for religion, and I'm going to wrap this up pretty quickly because we don't need anything near the length of what we have above, there are multiple changes but they occur across centuries so they don't have the same dramatic shift as the Amarna period did. Since Ancient Egypt had a pantheon of gods, there was always a 'chief deity' who sat above the rest of them as they were favoured by the priests. In the very early periods this was the goddess Neith, over time she faded out as the popularity of Osiris rose and he became the chief deity. After a few centuries you can see this change to Amun, and his priests became very powerful. During the reigns of Thutmose IV and Amenhotep III, you can see them focusing more on the Aten as the chief deity, but because Egypt had grown significantly by this point the priesthood of Amun was in direct opposition to the King. What Akhenaten did when he caused upheaval makes more sense in this context, especially since it was largely the High Priests of Amun that he was targeting. Once Akhenaten was gone, the priests restored Amun as chief god and that never really changed. Other gods became popular, but they did not oust Amun as head of the pantheon. But as I said, these changes were largely incremental rather than the huge change Akhenaten implemented. They took so long to happen that they wouldn't have been truly visible to the people living through them. There weren't religious movements because religion was the purview of the King and the Priests. Main pantheon worship was supposed to be done by the king alone, but in reality this was delegated to priests. The general public did not enter the temples unless it was festival time and even then they were restricted in the parts they could access. The reason there were no religious movements is because it was the purview of the state rather than its people to perform most of the religious rites, and if the state is in control of something it's very unlikely to change unless they can see that change as one that is expedient for them. After the Amarna period there were some small changes in the way people chose to worship their gods, but the state religion did not change. Like with art, it is this way because the Egyptians wanted it to be so. Also there are only 5 million people in Ancient Egypt. Why change what works?

#my dinner went cold while typing this lmao

[masterdisastre]

I would like to know Dino for this prompt!

What is the last greeting card they bought? what occasion, who did they give it to, and what was the message inside?

Dino knew that it was unnecessary.

He had already freaked out and screeched on the phone, and then flew all the way to Capri to do the same, but in person.

But he had seen that funny card on an Etsy ad, probably sent his way by the almighty cookies after his search for baby presents.

And yes, he knew that he had happened before, but the last time he had been filled with worries: when Viola had turned out to be pregnant, her pelvis had just healed, and all the doctors had agreed to keep a very close eye on her, so not to get her to the end of the pregnancy and instead perform a timed C-section.

If she unluckily got to her pregnancy’s term, and the baby -well, plural, babies- would start going down, her pelvis would have risked severe fractures along the old lines. And at that point, no one could predict what could happen to her.

This time, however, she seemed to be fine. Two years had passed since she had been shot by the Storm-powered bullet, and her pelvis was now perfectly healed.

Dino was singing a song while looking for his pen, and had no trouble in the world.

“Daddy?” his son, Oscar, called from the door.

“Paperotto! Come here!”

“What are you doing?” the boy asked, climbing on his lap. He looked so much like Kyoya, and had Dino's smile; it sometimes seemed unbelievable that he was adopted.

“I'm writing a card for Aunt Viola and Uncle Skull,” he said. The kid squinted to try and read the card, but failed: “I can't read it.”

“It says,” Dino traced the words with his fingers, ‘Awesome people make awesome babies’.” Oscar nodded.

“Aunt Viola and Uncle Skull are awesome,” he said, giving his lovely approval to the card.

“They are,” Dino said, smiling.

“And they're having a baby?” Oscar half stated, half asked.

“They are,” Dino said.

“Can I sign the card, too?”

“Of course you can! Here, take the pen.” Oscar grabbed the pen with his tiny hand and laboriously wrote down his name. He was only four, but he was already learning how to read and write a little: Kyoya had agreed to teach him something. Of course, Oscar couldn't read or write complex words, let alone kanji, but he was already quite good with the latin alphabet and with hiragana.

‘My little miracle' Dino thought, kissing the kid on his forehead.

“Good job,” he said, “Now, can you ask Dad to come here and sign?” Oscar nodded and jumped down from his knees.

He left the office announcing: “I'm on a mission!”

Dino laughed and added a line on the inside of the card, then signed it.

A few minutes later, Kyota came in: “Is a card necessary?”

“No, it isn't, but I want to do it anyway,” Dino said, giving him the pen.

Kyota took his time to read and translate the printed line, then opened the card and read what Dino had written inside.

With a barely perceptible smirk, he signed.

*****

“Vivi!” Skull called, “We got mail!”

“You mean, real mail?” Viola asked. Her belly was still flat, but her morning sickness was kicking in, so she was lying on the couch with a blanket on her stomach.

“Real mail. And it's not a bill!”

“I figured you wouldn't be so excited about the electricity bill,” Viola joked.

“Look! For Mrs. and Mr. De Mort!”

“Open it!” Viola said, trying to straighten up a little bit.

Skull read out loud: “Awesome people make awesome babies.��

“Aw, that's sweet!” Viola said, then she opened the card to see the signatures.

She instantly recognized Dino's, the doodle reading “Oscar” and she assumed that the kanji stood for Kyoya.

Then she read the line and burst into laughter.

Skull bent over her, read and laughed as well.

“...damn, this kid's gonna be SO weird!”

#dino cavallone #dinohiba #skull de mort #khr #khr fic #prompted #khr oc viola cavallone #khr oc oscar hibari cavallone

[ay4kshalatus]

important notice 📢

hcs: tua season 1 where wanda!y/n and five jumped back to 2019 to save his siblings.

they teleported successfully.. but something unexpectedly happened to both of them. they're nerfed to teenagers. siblings looked alarmed when they see their long lost young brother with a stranger. "isn't just me or.. do i see little number five with a girl?" , "...love." , "..shit."

five didn't even try to discuss more about his disappearance to his worried siblings. y/n just give him a disapproval look of his brief explanation. "love, can u hand me the butter?", "sure." the siblings finally noticed their weird behaviors to each other. "love?", ".. oh yeah. she's my wife." , "mama mia, five has a wife!?", "five having a lover is least expected." well, allison is not wrong. y/n sometimes questioned why she fell for him.

the couple are stressed.. looking for the probability of why they have to go through their teenage years again. they looked through the wardrobes for clothes to wear... "i hate puberty." , "same love."

"at least we're going to experience teenage love with these uniforms. should we exchange notes too?", "really y/n? right now?"

finally! wanda!y/n take an action with her husband. she could easily control those commissioner's minds and take them off but marrying the five hargreeves.. has it's cons. with his hobby on doing massacre is rubbing on his wife. but she's much worse because she sometimes put her life on line for the sake of her entertainment. "love.. you're hot and shit but pls don't let them put their gun on your forehead." ,"can't make promises."

that time when they have to pretend themselves as klaus' children, five was never been this proud to his brother and wanda!y/n being supportive sis-in-law. they acted like proud parents lol.

wanda!y/n questioned herself about their relationship even more when his husband decided to get his "ex". they're married for few years now, having each other's backs but the male couldn't help but being attached to his old companion. she understands that the mannequin is the one that kept him sane through those 50 years of his life on the apocalypse alone so she let him be.

right the couple has been sticking together for a while and y/n starting to get worry about five's siblings since that night when hazel and cha-cha somehow tracked them so quick. she starting to doubt if the eye would lead them to truth.

then the couple decided to work with the fellow hargreeves after knowing what happened back to the academy and klaus. anddd yes they successfully lured hazel and cha-cha with their broken briefcase and contacted the handler. the couple agrees to work for the commission once again and begin their plan. as much as five wanted to do the job, his wife is involved with the work anyway..

y/n starting to space out where the handler and five are on conversation. her husband didn't noticed that she suddenly got anxious when around the handler.

but she let it slide because they guys have another job to do.

they pretended to work under the handler in order to get some information about the apocalypse. they mostly end up in weird situations like pretend to busy snogging when they're trying to steal something on dot's desk, "teenage romance doesn't seem to be bad.", "is this even teenage romance to you? we're in the middle of something.", "rebellious teenage couple, currently commiting crime.", "we're adults-.. just shut it." or being trapped together in comfort room. "that's good you closed the toilet window or i end up soaking in the water..", "sorry about that,," (yes. the five hargreeves is soft for his wife.)

and yey!! they finally got the intel but the handler won't let them get away that easily. luckily, five has his own tricks on his sleeves. wanda!y/n launching her off with the bomb, then getting dragged by husband out of the room and shield her from the explosion.. she's kind of annoyed this trait of his but his desire of protecting her let it put aside.

when they made it out of the commission, they began to look for harold jenkins who is leonard peabody that is responsible for the apocalypse. but!! it seems that someone took their job after witnessing harold's corpse.

aside the siblings relieved about the news, wanda!y/n felt unease when learning more about the suspect (she celebrated when five decided to leave delores and focus his relationship with her). someone like harold isn't enough to make the whole world gone to ash but what makes him the reason of starting the apocalypse? big brain time.

that when five mentioned about viktor, everything clicked. "viktor is the bomb!!!" stressed couple rushing over to the family to stop viktor.

"you know that locking him was a bad idea you idiot.", "i'm sorry ok!? i didn't know that his powers are that damn powerf--", "you already see that the way how he destroyed your house plus allison warned your arses- how tf you didn't know?" five is so done with luther too so he let his wife scolding him.

the family tries to approach viktor on his concert and he unleash his powers. wanda!y/n tries to overpower viktor's mind but he sends her up flying across the room.

fighting him too was no use. damaging viktor might blew himself out, she thought so she swat the commission out to give the siblings an opening.

wanda!y/n seems to have her own plans, leaving the boys to do their thing.

but allison beat her to it. wanda!y/n realized her plan then prevented her from killing viktor by manipulating her mind, missing the bullet.

but things didn't ended up well than they expected when they saw parts of the moon flies down to earth.

luckily five came up an idea to time travel back to past to avoid the apocalypse.

and he managed to control his powers while bringing his entire family with him. "i'll see u there, y/n.", "we will meet again, love."

note: idk if ill continue this but eh

and english is not my first language so apologize for wrong grammars!!

#five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #wanda reader #wanda #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #tua #tua x reader #reader #five hargreeves x reader #hcs #headcannons #pamcake's writings 🥞

[revenant-dumpster-fire]

Corpse of My Brother

Summary:

"I have been watching my brother, even though he does not like that name. He's been more upset than usual. I just wanted to help, but he never let me. He just threatens to hurt me like always, but lately he can't even get through his usual speeches without choking and glitching. It looks like it hurts!

"I am worried about him. I finally had a good excuse to look for him! Mirage and I are making a cookbook, so I was going to ask him if he knew any good recipes to include. I planned to ask him why he's been acting so damaged lately, and see if I might be able to help. But when I went looking in all the usual places he hides… He wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere. I couldn't find him.

"I heard his voice, but when I turned the corner to wave to him, I saw someone I don't know."

…

This is a character piece formed via my own pain. I turned it into an interaction that I could imagine happening.

---------

"Oh! Hello new friend! You sound like—”

“Shut it.” His voice sounds just like him.

The blue MRVN approaches the new face gingerly, bouncing with each step. Maybe Revenant has a secret brother, which means—

Pathfinder is giddy, what if he had two brothers just like Revenant? Sure, he's a little mean, but that's just how big brothers are!

“What’s your name?!” Pathfinder’s vocalizations pitch with excitement, facing the back of the new, massive figure before him. If he's in the Apex facility, he must be new! Maybe he needs a friend to show him around?

The figure’s head kicks up visibly from the back, as if in surprise. The black hood turns to glance at the MRVN behind him.

This machine has a smooth, white face with few notches. He looks brand new with no scuffs or faded materials, sporting a massive red smile and jaw. The solid yellow eyes shift just a little to lock onto Pathfinder's red bulb, revealing a honeycomb pattern to the filter. He has a nasal cavity just like Revenant, and red lines traveling up from his eyes instead of down. He even has a beautiful notch of red on his forehead, barely showing from under the cloth hood.

“Wow!” Pathfinder quietly expresses aloud, slightly moving in his direction as if yearning for a closer look.

The figure growls, turning away rapidly at the expression, leaving nothing but an oppressive array of long antenna and stabilizers jutting out from his shoulders towards Pathfinder.

“It's me.” He says in Revenant's voice.

“That's a strange name, but nice to meet—”

“No, it's me. Revenant. Can't you hear me, you useless amalgamation of scraps?!” He spins back around, angry.

Just like Revenant would.

But that's not him.

A moment of confusion washes over Pathfinder.

“Oh, is this one of your new, fancy shells? I haven't seen this one before!” Pathfinder bounces back. Revenant almost never uses the fancy ones, this one is so different he almost didn't recognize him!

“No. It's not.” The smile hangs downward.

“What—do you mean…?” Pathfinder’s vocals trail off a little quieter. The hallways have long since gone quiet as the evening becomes old. Even though there's no one around, something feels sour in the air.

Something isn't right.

“I'm stuck.” The smile makes a cracking sound, like porcelain under stress. “I can't get out of this… thing.”

Pathfinder reels back just a little. This body is big. Could his normal body really fit inside?

Something makes a cracking sound ever so slightly behind the smile.

“Could I help?” Pathfinder cautiously asks, knowing full well the explosive anger will probably immediately follow.

But…

It doesn't. There's no outburst. No abuse. No rage. No nothing.

The whole unfamiliar chassis tenses up, just like humans when they're in pain, but then it all loosens. Every joint becomes lax, but they don't fight gravity. They hang, like the effort to fight their own weight is too much.

Finally, a resigned sigh can be heard.

“No, you can't.” He says.

This isn't Revenant.

Revenant doesn't look like this. Revenant doesn't smile. Revenant doesn't pass up an opportunity to be mean or yell at him like this.

His hands look the same. His colors are close. His build is so similar. He still has the same voice.

Then why does it feel so wrong?

“When are you going back?” Pathfinder’s voice quakes just a little in its quiet concern.

The body tenses again.

“I'm never going back.” He splays open his palm, looking into the familiar red leather.

Pathfinder feels something deep within himself shift. This is wrong. That can't be right. He'll never go back? He can just swap chassis, can't he?

“But—!”

“Pathfinder, shut up. I have enough problems to deal with that aren't…” his hands make a juggling motion, as if trying to conjure up the right word. “You. I don't have the bandwidth to deal with you.”

Pathfinder feels his insides twist. That's not how Revenant would act. Revenant always had time for him. Revenant was always happy to be mean. He wouldn't say that. He wouldn't be calm about it either. Why does he sound like that? Why isn't he mean?

Where is the soul?

Didn't he say he was human?

“Why are you talking to me like that?!” Pathfinder's vocalizer shifts octaves on accident. It sounds like when humans cry.

“I mean I don't have time for you. If it isn't obvious, I have bigger problems than your misguided naïvety at the moment.” Revenant growls, keeping control better than he ever had before, despite himself. “Go bother someone else. Anyone else.”

Pathfinder feels his processors hurt. That's not a happy emotion. That's the opposite. This isn't even sad, this is worse than sad.

“Why won't you yell at me?!” Pathfinder’s emotive screen turns black, unable to keep up. “Who are you?! You're not Revenant! My brother would—”

“I was never your brother, Pathfinder.” It speaks with his voice, but it's using it all wrong.

“No! Go back into your other body! The pretty red one, with the pretty red makeup and the yellow eyes!” Pathfinder doesn't understand what he feels, but he needs to find Revenant fast. Pain is awful, and the sooner he sees Revenant again, the sooner it will go away.

“I can't.”

“Yes you can! You could before! Why can't you now?!” Pathfinder tries to stop his vocalizer from getting louder, but he can't help it. Is this what yelling feels like? He doesn't like it.

It locks eyes with Pathfinder, as if seeing something familiar, but Pathfinder takes a step back.

This is bad. This hurts. This is wrong. This isn't—

“It’s a corpse now. Stop crying about it.” Revenant's calm but cruel voice echoes loudly in the hallway.

Pathfinder pulls his hands to his head. Is this crying? Why does it hurt? Is it because he doesn't have tears to shed? Is this what it feels like, to cry with no tears? Why is it so painful? Why can't Revenant go back?

Why did he have to die like this?

He always came back before, why can't he go back again?

“Stop crying, it's not even your problem.” The figure snarls, shrugging with what little defiance remains in his defeated stance. Revenant turns away, walking away slowly.

“Stop!” Pathfinder instinctively reaches out towards the twisted shadow of Revenant. “Don't… Don't leave me!”

Revenant ignores the request, continuing to trudge away soulessly. What happened? When did this happen? Why was there no warning?

Revenant pauses, now having moved well out of reach, letting his head pivot for just a moment so his voice can reach Pathfinder one last time.

“Your brother's dead. Now leave me alone.”

It hits Pathfinder all at once. Something is wrong, forever. Nothing will ever truly be fixed. Maybe it will improve over time, but this won't ever heal. The pretty red scarf; the scary, scuffed up mask; the tearful makeup; the bright yellow eyes… It's all gone. Forever.

Everything is awful, everything is wrong, nothing can fix it, but nobody else seems to realize it.

Not even him.

Pathfinder feels his joints tense up.

Grief.

This is how Mirage talks about his mom when she doesn't remember him. This is how Valkyrie withers when she holds her father's helmet. This is how Bloodhound howls Boone’s name a little louder than all the others.

It's awful.

Is this what humans feel?

There is no body to bury, no memento to hold onto, no opportunity to say goodbye.

And yet the corpse just walks away.

#apex legends #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfiction #my fanfic #character piece #character study #pathfinder #revenant #vent #apex revenant #revenant apex #revenant apex legends #apex legends revenant #apex pathfinder #revenant reborn #no romance #no ships #no trigger warnings #just me venting my pain #and remembering how it felt to lose something I cared about