#even though Ive clearly never actually been able to keep up with them

[vvatsondraws]

A tiny dragon to ring in the new year!

Hoping that this will be the start of something new... let's see how long it will actually last lol.

#dragon #dragon2024 #daily art #art #digital art #my new years resolution #is to apparently take on a big project #even though Ive clearly never actually been able to keep up with them #welp I guess we will see how far I manage to go #I pray the creative gods provide me with inspration #Im gonna need all the help I can get

[loveandmurders]

You belong to Ambrose IV (Poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)

Alright, I was supposed to post this a lot sooner but life got in the way. It's finally here, and I hope you'll enjoy it like you did with the other parts.

This is the final chapter of the "You belong to Ambrose" series that you can find in my House of Wax masterlist.

This is the direct continuation of last chapter, that you can find here.

Warinings: no proofreading, mentions of murders, violence, sexual desire, very morally grey reader, angst/kinda comfort

A part of you wanted to let the Sinclairs win you over. But another part of you wanted to believe you were a good person. And a good person couldn’t love murders, especially not the murders of their own friends.

You wanted to get away from their touch, but the twins were too touch and love starved to let you get away from their hands that easily. They were both trying very hard to stay calm, because they didn’t want to scare you off. But truth to be told, they had no idea how long they would be able to keep it together if the love of their lives kept pushing them away.

The front door opened and Jonesy left the three of you to run greeting Lester. You were thankful for this distraction, especially when Lester called his brothers’ names, surprised to not find them in the living room or in the kitchen. He knew they couldn’t be sleeping, not when things weren’t fixed with you.

“Comin’” Bo replied.

The twins got up and they helped you doing so as well. You clearly couldn’t go back hiding in your room now. They gently guided you downstairs and Bo settled in the kitchen to fix something for you. You greeted Lester without showing any expression on your face. You weren’t too sure what to do. Lester shyly smiled at you and moved a hand behind his neck, as his eyes drank in the sight of you.

“Hey, Y/N. Ya lookin’ real beautiful, ya know. I thought so the second I saw ya. Ya’ve always been pretty, but now, ya’re just as perfect as a goddess.” Lester said. He had always been the one showering you with nonstop compliments. 

“Thanks Lester.'' you simply said, as you didn’t want to seem to enjoy the sweet words coming your way. 

You sat at the kitchen table with Vincent and Lester.

“And it’s really nice to have ya back home, because your absence was all drivin’ us quite crazy. It was hell actually” Lester softly babbled again, because he couldn’t help when he was around you.

“You all seem to have done pretty well without me” you tried but the three men exchanged looks. They really hadn’t.

“We’re talkin’ ‘bout ya all the time, ya know. I think ya’re our favourite subject of conversation; the only one we can have without arguin’. We always agree we want and need ya back home” he admitted which made the twins groan but they didn’t stop Lester from talking. It was good that one of them was that straight forward about their feelings for you. Vincent even hoped it would help relax you around them.

“Ah yes?” you couldn’t stop yourself from being a little bit curious, and flattered about it. “Don’t see what you can talk about though” you hummed with a shrug. But Lester quickly shook his head

“Ya’re the girl of our life, so of course we’ve got a lot to say ‘bout ya” he brightly smiled and you looked away, feeling yourself blushing.

“Didn’t know Bo rubbed on you and you became a sweet talker yourself” you replied to hide your emotions. Vincent snorted in amusement, Bo arched an eyebrow at you and Lester blushed as well.

“Just speakin’ the truth” he defended himself and you hummed. “We never stopped bein’ in love with ya. Never stopped thinkin’ ‘bout ya.”

You all stayed silent after that, but it wasn’t as tense as before.

You thanked Bo for the food and ate, lost in your own thoughts. You could feel the boys watching you, but you were used to it. You had always been the centre of their attention. And you used to enjoy this very much. You could really pretend that nothing happened, that you never left Ambrose. You knew the three men around you would like that very much. Especially when for the moment, they had to keep their hands to themselves.

They all wondered what you were thinking about but they didn’t want to upset you even more than they already did, not when your relationship was on a thin line like that.

The more you thought about the situation, the clearer you realised you were mad at them because they killed your people. Your friends deserved a happier and softer ending. You were quite heartbroken still. And you knew it was your fault too. 

It was your fault because your fate has always been to get back to Ambrose and you should have come on your own. Destiny wanted your road trip to end in the Sinclairs’ arms, and it was certain the brothers wouldn't leave anyone around you. They were jealous and possessive beasts. You hated how conflicted your emotions were: you were mad at the brothers and at yourself, but you were also very relieved to be there. You were home. You were where you belong. You would forget about your friends soon enough, once the guilt would wear off, like it always did. You weren’t such a good person, and you knew it.

And yet, you were the brothers’ angel, perfection, goddess.

You kept thinking and you realised your mother was a “problem” in the not so planned Sinclairs’ objective of having you back. They could kill your friends, but they couldn’t kill your mother so easily. And she would notice your absence, and she might call the cops and tell them about Ambrose if you went missing for too long. And your dead friends… You couldn’t believe how impulsive the brothers had been. You weren’t too surprised though; they couldn’t think straight around you.

“You really are idiots, sometimes” you whispered but they heard you. They were relieved to hear you talk to them.

“Why that?” Bo asked

“You killed everyone but… what’s the plan for my mother?” you said and the boys exchanged a look. 

They had talked quite a bit about it earlier that day and they didn’t know what to do. Their priority was having you, but they were aware they would need to deal with this as well. And quickly, before they could lose everything forever.

“What do ya offer?” Bo asked and you chuckled

“Not my mess” you replied and he frowned

“Ya didn’t tell her anythin’ earlier. I know ya’re on our side” he pointed at you “Ya ain’t wantin’ to admit it but ya’re happy to be in Ambrose again. It’s why ya came so close by. Ya were just afraid we’d kill ya or hurt ya, but now ya see we only want ya back, ya want to stay” he said and you hated how close to the truth he was. You refused to acknowledge his words as you bit on your bottom lip.

“She knows about Ambrose and she knows about my road trip with my…” you sighed “She knows. She’ll worry, she already started to do so.”

“This is indeed a problem” Vincent agreed

“But ya wanna stay, right? And don't wanna anythin’ bad happenin’ to us?” Lester asked you, giving you his best puppy eyes.

You looked away and didn’t say anything at first. Of course you wanted things to be alright for once in your life. 

You had often dreamed of that moment and it always ended the same: or you killed your mother or you killed yourself. You never thought it would all become true though. You had never thought you would truly be back in Ambrose with the three men you loved.

At least, you knew what to do. It was as if you had planned all of this from the start. Or maybe it was just the Devil whispering to your ear.

“I… I’ll need some time to forgive you all for what happened to my friends” you said

“And we’ll do anythin’ ya wanna” Bo hummed and you believed him

“I know. And yeah I’m happy to be back. And I never stopped loving you all either” you admitted, feeling a little bit shy about it. You didn’t look at them, but soon enough your were pulled into their embrace. Bo had been the first one to react to your words by getting up and grabbing you for a big hug. Vincent and Lester soon joined in. You relaxed into their warmth. You all felt complete once again.

“There is only one way” you whispered “We need to fake my own death. I mean like something official. My mom must believe the police found my body and that she buried it” you finally said. You leaned away to have a better look at them.

They reluctantly let you go as they thought about your words.

It would allow you to resume the only life that was meant for you, without anyone to look for you. Your mother would have never let you get back to Ambrose and now that your friends were dead, it was only making things even more complicated. If you all disappeared, it would be alright.

You knew there would be no coming back from this though. Once you would be no one, you would never be able to get back in the real world. You would be stuck in Ambrose forever, with the people you loved. You would finally be yourself again. A part of you was aware you were choosing over Hell, but love isn’t soft. Love is destructive, consuming everything and everyone until nothing is left. You were finally feeling alive again.

“The next tourists who come here, we violently kill them, we break their teeth so they can't be identify and we put them in your car. We drive far away, where you were supposed to be, and we burn everything down.” Bo quickly found a plan

“We need to be certain…” 

“Don’t worry, darl’. We deal with this.” Bo assured you with a charming smile and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Shit happens and it’s not necessarily linked to Ambrose” Vincent signed, knowing you were worried the police would find the place

“My mom will accuse you right away” you replied

“I’ll make sure the cops won’t find Ambrose” Lester smiled at you

You wanted to trust them with that. You knew they were smart and resourceful. And it was about you, it was about your future together. You could trust them. They were going to protect you, they were going to keep you all theirs again, they were finally be able to be happy again too.

You finally nodded “Okay, then.”

You took your phone from your pocket and handed it to Bo. He would be able to use it if he needed to. And he would be able to destroy it too. You were handing the brothers your life, like they had given you theirs a long time ago. Bo cupped your face and softly smiled. You saw his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips.

“Nuh nuh, still mad at y’all. You have convinced me to stay, not to be your girlfriend again” you said as you moved away from his touch. Both the twins groaned at yours words, but they respected it. And they were going to do anything to get you back like before.

Once you would allow them to touch you like they used to, you knew they wouldn't stop kissing and pleasuring you for quite a while. They were hungry for you. Lester was cheeky enough to believe he would be the first one to get back in your good grace.

You all stayed silent a little longer. You were thinking you were crazy, but you were so calm about all of this. It felt right, no matter how wrong it was. 

Lester brought you back to reality as he took your hand in his, his eyes bright with happiness.

“Hey, Y/N, welcome home!”

---

Taglist: @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @thatbitchanna27 ; @robin-the-enby ; @i-like-horror-andshitt ; @cecilwritesstuff ; @delusion-is-convenient ; @artificialintestines ; @sugarrush-blush ; @crypticlxrsh ; @g0thl3zz ; @katerinaval ; @oneofvincentscandles ; @limehaspassed ; @sillylittlereader ; @mommymilkerfanclub ; @oranedgp ; @mottysith ; @partlyvee ; @gorewhore123 ; @mrstargayen09 ; @aesthetic-bitches-tum ; @mfnqueen1 ; @etheralrue ; @nanami-kento-simp ; @bluekuu ; @excusemyrandomramblings ; @fluffy-little-demon ; @oneofvincentscandles ; @domoron ; @narcolepticduck ; @partlyvee ; @mushroom-weeb ; @peik0s ; @dumblittlebunbun ; @mottysith ; @iwantsleepplz ; @lolwey ; @02006 ; @k1swass ; @the-human-dumpsterfire ; @thelxiapeia ; @instantpenguinkid

#house of wax x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x s/o #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x s/o #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x s/o #lester sinclair x you #lester sinclair x reader #poly!sinclairs x s/o #poly!sinclairs x you #poly!sinclairs x reader #slasher x reader #slasher x s/o #slasher x you #poly!slashers x reader #poly!slashers x you #poly!slasher x s/o

[daddysfangirls-dc]

UnTamed Ch.14

Prev | Next

He found nothing. With facial recognition, fingerprints, and blood, Tim still found nothing on this girl. She didn't exist. Literally, there was nothing on her. It was stressing him the fuck out. Who was in their house? Who was with their brother? 

THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS HAPPENING !?!

-

Tim wasn't sneaky. They knew that he was looking into her. They were upset at first, Jason furious, but Damian waved off the ambush, telling them he wouldn't find anything because there was nothing to find. They simply didn't relay the information to him. Watching him spiral was very amusing, and it was needed in such severe and sad times. It had been several days since her arrival, and Damian hadn't left her side since they brought her upstairs.

Jason had been shielding him from everyone, especially Bruce. It surprised everyone that Jason was Damian's advocate and protector at the moment. He stood firm in keeping everyone away and protecting Damian and his lover. They both need time to heal. He'd ensure they'd be left in peace. 

-

"You need rest," Alfred said as he came in, changing her IV bag.

"I'm fine"

"You need rest in a proper bed," he said, this time more firmly. 

"The others-"

"Have gone. It is just you and I."

"I don't want to leave her. What if-"

"I'll come get you if she wakes. I promise," he says, laying his hand on Damian's shoulder. " She wouldn't want to see you like this." This is greasy and unkempt. Clothes ruffled and untucked. Hair uneven and greased. She had never seen him like this, and he realized he didn't want her to. 

"I'll shower, then I'll come back."

"Okay, dear boy," that was enough for now.

-

The room Asta woke up in was familiar yet not. She knew she was in Wayne Manor by the smell. Opening her eyes, she recognized the room she was in, the sheets that covered her. The room looked similar to Damian's, void of all those personal touches of his. A guest room in the Wayne Manor.

Looking about, she found an IV pole standing next to her, pumping a line of fluids and a heart monitor. She tried to lift her arm but found that she had no strength. She tried to sit up and found herself too weak. Suddenly, she found herself exhausted even though she had just woken up.

"Good Morning." Asta looked up to find Alferd by the door. Coming into the room and opening the blinds. " Alfred Pennyworth, although you already know that," she smiles at the amusement clearly in his voice. " Is it wrong for me to assume you are Astraea?"

Her face became flushed. Someone else knew her name. She bit back a smile. "My friends- friend calls me Asta." 

"Well," he stands at the end of the bed," It is nice to meet you properly, Miss Asta." he comes around to check her IV and monitor. She points to the clear bags. " These are fluids, antibiotics, and morphine. You were in rough shape when you arrived. Our doctor did wonders, but you still need time to heal."

That would explain the drowsiness and weakness. She wondered where Damian was. 

"The others have either gone to work or other things have called their attend. Damian is cleaning up in his room. He'll be back soon-" The door swung open, revealing Damian baggy clothes, fresh skin, and wet hair. Damian say nothing as he quickly crosses the room to her side.

"Hi"

"Hi"

Alfred slipped out unseen and left the couple to themselves. 

"Hi," she said again, smiling weakly. " I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go."

"you have nothing to be sorry."

"I'm supposed to be a secret," she cries breathlessly. " I came here, and now I'm not. I'm so sorry."

Damian kisses her hand and wipes her tears. " There is no need for apologies. I don't care for our secrets. I want you safe," Even though she was lying in bed, he could see her boy sag with exhaustion with each cry. " Rest. All I need from you now is rest. Please rest." she nodded weakly as her eyes started to droop. " I'll be here when you wake. I promise"

-

 Asta woke again, this time with more energy and strength, being able to lift her arms now. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she opened them. She looked at the sounds of birds coming from the window. There were two noticeable things by the window, one being the orange glow that came through the window, showing it was sunset, and Two Damian sitting by the window with a book. 

"Good evening"

"Hey"

"You're healing well." 

"Yes," She sat up, looking around. She found the IV and morphine drip gone. " How was school?" he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"It's winter break. No School" 

"Oh, sorry." he leaned forward, kissing her forehead. 

You've been through a traumatic event, and it is safe to say your perspective of time might be a bit skewed." He took her hand, rubbing it gently. " Can you tell me what happened? How you got it this way?"

"Stupidity," Asta laughed bitterly as she lay down. "I got too comfortable. I wasn't watching like I should have been like I always do." He wiped the few tears that spilled.

"you don't have-"

"I was walking as a cat. A black cat at that. I was walking to our apartment. I wasn't paying attention, and someone picked me up and stuffed me into a bag. I passed out and woke up caged in a basement. There was slickly preteen shit - He's definitely going to be a school shooter. He had a collection of tasers, pipes, and blades, and he had a lot. I didn't know what he'd do to me If I changed in front of him. I didn't want to know. 

So fucking pathetic."

"No, you're not."

"I got caught by a fucking rando on the street. Who did this to me? " She pulled the covers back, revealing her wounds. " I am pathetic, 15 years, and this is how I'm caught. I am. I am. I am." 

"No, no, no. You are perfect, and you are brave. None of this is your fault." he says, pulling the blanket back over her and tucking her in.

" I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. heal." He kissed her forehead again, wiping away more tears. " Rest"

Damian closed the curtains, shrowding the room in darkness. When he approached the door, Asta assumed he was leaving and closed her eyes. She let out a small sob as she heard the door close and lock. She lay in the dark, quietly crying. She felt the blankets move. She felt it as he crawled into bed alongside her. She felt his warmth as he lay closer, but he didn't come any closer; he simply took her hand and held it tight. It was the only part of her he could hold without hurting her. He held on tight. 

-

"Who is she?" Bruce asked as he leaned on the Batcomputer; Red Robin already claimed his seat. He had yet to put on his cowl. 

"Her name is Astraea. Don't bother." Damian stopped Red before he could begin typing, " She doesn't exist. She was born and raised on the streets. There is no record of her." 

"How do you know her?" Red asked suspiciously.

" I met her four years ago, and we became friends. We became romantically involved last year.

"FOUR YEARS!?! You've been in a relationship for four years and didn't tell m-us?" Dick said the hurt and betrayal clear in his voice and face.

The others were shocked that Damian had managed to hide an entire relationship for four years. They all had to take a moment, think, and try to remember any hints of this possible relationship. They hadn't noticed anything strange until a few months ago. It also made them think if he really trusted them. 

"Alfred was aware I had a romantic partner but not who they were. So was Superboy." 

"You told Superboy?!!"

"No, I went to both of them inquiring for advice on pursuing someone romantically. I never confirmed having a romantic partner with supper boy. He just assumed correctly."

"He confirmed that the advice I gave was a success," Alfred said as he approached him. " He continues to subtly ask for advice now and again."

"All your advice has kept us together this long."

"no, my dear boy," he put a hand on his shoulder." That was all you." Damian pulled a small smile.

"She's a metahuman," Bruce said, interrupting the small moment." Can she turn into just a cat?" Duke asked. He was the only meta in the family, so the possibility of another joining the family was exciting. 

"Any animal. She has empathic abilities as well," Damian said, accepting cocoa from Alfred. He passed out refreshments to the others.  

"How long have you known?"

"Since the very beginning. she never hid herself from me. And I never hid myself from her. All our truths were laid out at the very beginning."

"Beginning their relationship with honestly I like that"

"Shut up, Jason"

"Asta-"

"Asta?"

"Is good and trustworthy. She has known our secret for years, and not once has it crossed her mind to betray us, me."

"And yet you never told us about her," Red said, eyeing him suspiciously. 

"THIS," Damian says as he stands up, his arms motioning wildly. " This is right here. I didn't want you to turn her into a suspect and pull her part. Run her off. She's good; she's trustworthy and loyal. She doesn't... she doesn't deserve to be criminalized. She's good, and she's doing good."

"So you made her stay a secret for four years?"

"I didn't make her do anything. I also didn't oppose her staying a secret, which was mainly her idea. She doesn't like attention. And whether we like it or not, we have the spotlight in both our day life and nightlife."

While Damian never opposed secrets, he and Asta had several conversations and discussions about their hiding, and Asta desired to stay in the shadows for as long as possible. Damian didn't know how to explain it. He did know how to explain her desire for secrecy, her nonexistence, her devoted loyalty. He didn't know how to explain .... Astraea.

She was Astraea, and she was his, and that's all he truly understood from her. The downside of being in a relationship with an empath is that you no longer explain yourself; you feel and share your feelings. Damian didn't know how to share his feelings with his family. And even if he did, most of them were emotionally incompetent. It wouldn't matter. So here he stood flexing his hands, and they'd never understand how much " I love her... I love her. And I won't lose her."

#dc comics #dc universe #fanfiction #robin #batman #fanfic #damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne fanfic #damian wayne fanfiction #damian al ghul x oc #damian wayne x oc #damian wayne al ghul #untamed

[itslittlegiggle]

Not Mopey (Reiner, Eren, Armin)

A/N: i cant think of a good title kdjdnk ive been wanting to write a ticklish armin fic for sooo long, but this is all i could come up with 😭 i hope you enjoy it even though its not perfect - hopefully it helps me come out of my writing slump!

-----

Becoming a soldier required a lot of hard, energy-sucking training; even a cadet as tough and strong as Reiner would admit that it sometimes felt like too much, like exhaustion was going to knock you down and never let you back up. But every once in a while the cadets got a day to themselves, and even though it was only a short break, it gave them time to reflect on why they were training so hard and renewed their energy. 

Reiner liked going for walks on days like these, especially when it was sunny. Having some peaceful alone time was rare but appreciated, and Reiner enjoyed having some time to himself and being able to have some time to think.

Today it was quiet, and Reiner had returned from his walk and was wandering along the training field. For once he did not seem to have any pressing matters on his mind, and felt like his mind and body were more relaxed than they had been in years.

That is, until he heard a noise. 

He whipped around, feeling his body’s fight instincts kick in. He didn’t know what he just heard, but it sounded desperate. 

He heard it again a few seconds later - was it a scream? It sounded like it was coming from the barracks, and instinct moved Reiner before his conscious mind told him to.

When he got to the door he whipped it open so fast it vibrated the whole wall it slammed into. Expecting danger, Reiner was surprised when all he could see was Eren sitting on one of the bottom bunks, back facing the door. And all he could hear was... laughter? 

Eren did not appear to have heard the door slam open - which only surprised Reiner a little, considering the noise coming from inside the room - and Reiner walked closer to figure out why Eren was laughing so hard. Eventually he saw that Eren was not alone, and that the laughter was not coming from him, either; Reiner could now see that Eren was sitting on Armin’s waist, tickling the smaller boy fiercely. 

Eren’s fingers flew from vibrating into Armin’s ribs to swiping at his collarbones, clawing at his stomach before sneaking underneath the blond to tickle the sides of his back whenever he arched up. Armin was giggling and squealing wildly, knees coming up and knocking into Eren’s back every so often while he tried - and failed - to catch Eren’s hands with his own.

Reiner couldn’t help but smile at the sight, relaxing once more. 

“Having fun?”

Eren turned around, grinning, and smiled even bigger when he saw Reiner.

“Hey, Reiner. What’s up?”

“I actually came in here to ask you the same question. I could hear you - er, Armin, I guess - all the way across the field.” He sat down on the bed above Armin’s head, chuckling at the pair before him.

Armin cheeks flushed in embarrassment and he groaned, clearly trying to quiet his giggles. “Eren!” he hissed.

Eren had slowed his tickling once the conversation started, instead gently and sporadically pinching up and down Armin’s sides. Though the boy under him was twisting his spine and yipping with every pinch, his laughter quieted enough that the boys could hear each other.

“Armin was being mopey, so I had to bring out the big guns to cheer him up. It’s worked like a charm ever since we were little kids.”

“I wasn’t moping, I’m just tired!” Armin said, voice high and laced with stifled giggles, “y-you just jumped me because you’re bored - ah!”

“Like I said,” Eren continued, changing his tactic to poking randomly across Armin’s torso, “Armin is mopey.”

Reiner wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Armin being “mopey”, but he did think the boy was too serious, sometimes. His laughter and embarrassment was cute, and Reiner could see why Eren would do this - the younger boy’s giggles were impossible not to smile at.

Armin desperately tried to block Eren’s hands, but couldn’t seem to keep up with the speed of his friend’s attack. Eren sighed like Armin’s attempts to protect himself were burdensome, finally grabbing the boy’s wrists and holding them out to Reiner. “Help me out, would you?”

Reiner grinned.

“No, Reiner,” Armin whined, already too weak from laughing to muster up the strength to pull his wrists out of Reiner’s grasp when he grabbed them from Eren and held them neatly out of the way, “don’t encourage him!”

Eren dug his thumbs into Armin’s hips, not giving Reiner a chance to respond to Armin’s pleas, and Armin bucked with a desperate scream before laughing impossibly harder than he had been before. It was so sweet, Reiner couldn’t help but chuckle as well. “Sorry, Armin.”

“You - aha, wait - you traitor!”

Eren grinned. “Here, watch this.”

He scooted down so he was sitting on Armin’s shins, and the blond suddenly doubled his efforts of escaping. “No, Eren, not there!” The words had barely left Armin’s mouth before Eren started rapidly squeezing all over his thighs. Armin let out a shriek louder than Reiner thought it was possible for the normally quiet boy to make and started laughing wildly, high-pitched and childish and desperate.

“E-Eren, Erehehen!” Armin threw his head back and squealed with helpless laughter as his best friend continued to tickle his worst spot. “Wahait!”

Both Eren and Reiner were laughing as well now, unable to help it due to Armin’s silly squirming and sweet laughter. “Isn’t he the cutest?” Eren cooed, snickering when Armin kicked his leg out after a pinch to his knee. 

“He sure is,” Reiner chuckled. And even though he and Eren were just joking for the sake of flustering Armin, it was true. Armin’s hair was a mess from squirming, his eyes were squinted with mirth, his cheeks and ears were pink - it was just about as adorable as someone could get.

Armin’s laughter had gotten so high-pitched that Reiner was about to comment he sounded like a whistle when Eren withdrew his hands. He instead tickled softly across Armin’s throat and under his chin with one hand so Armin was giggling softly instead of shrieking with laughter. Reiner released the boy’s hands and they immediately dropped to grip Eren’s wrist, although did not seem to have the strength to push his friend’s hand away.

“Geez, you’re merciless” Armin giggled tiredly, scrunching up his shoulders. Eren finally had mercy and climbed off of him, laughing again when Armin rolled onto his side and into a little ball. “Maybe, but it’s for a good cause.”

Armin rolled his eyes fondly and looked up at Reiner. “You’re still a traitor, you know,” he said, but he grinned when Reiner reached down to ruffle his hair.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you get him back sometime.” 

Eren scoffed, but a soft redness covered his cheeks. “Shut up, it’s more fun when Armin’s the target because he squeaks so much.” 

Armin reached over and gently punched Eren’s leg, but quickly retracted his arm with an aforementioned squeak when Eren made a feint of tickling him again. Armin reddened with a hmph when Eren laughed at him (”see, told you you squeak!”), and Reiner grinned at the silliness of the two younger boys in front of him.

It was nice to have a day off from being a soldier.

#attack on titan #attack on titan tickle #tickle fic #eren #eren jeager #armin #armin arlert #ticklish!armin #reiner #reiner braun #no ships per se but you can take it that way if you have a preference #tfb #tfb community

[chromes-corner]

so ive been thinking about this scene

thinkpost + TLDR under the cut

(TL;DR: white lily is dead and pure vanilla is finally coming to his senses about it)

its just. god. i wish more people talked about this. this scene is the pivoting point for pure vanilla and i need more people to understand the devastating importance of this tiny scene that isnt even VOICED (which is a literal crime against god but also probably for the better because i dont think id survive if i had to hear pv speak this out loud)

to preface

pure vanilla knows dark enchantress’s identity. hes always known, and hes chosen to keep it a secret from the others -- perhaps for her protection, as he doesnt want to sully the name of his, quote, “dearest friend.” pure vanilla wanted the memory of their friend to remain untouched, he wanted them to believe that she was still around, but just missing in action. he didnt want them to know that she has been their enemy all along, as he knew the fond times they shared would be forever stained with the crimes of dark enchantress and the blood she now has on her hands

i have absolutely no idea how to segue this into my next point but whatever

youd think it wouldnt matter, though -- white lily fundamentally changed on the night of the witches and became dark enchantress. why would the crimes of basically an entirely different entity whos very ingredients were altered (even though they dont know what happened that night surely theyd assume it was out of white lilys control what happened to her) suddenly be transferred onto the albeit not entirely innocent but still saintly (its her title after all) white lily cookie? should they not consider the two entirely different beings?

well, pure vanilla didnt, and maybe thats why he kept everyone in the dark.

dark enchantress is white lily, and vice versa, but pure vanilla saw that in the most literal sense. he believed that, when confronted in the ruins of his kingdom, the person under the dark robes and maleficent magic was still his best friend.

hell, upon finally meeting her, he literally addresses her as white lily

but dark enchantress refutes that

she denies any trace of her past life (even though she clearly still retains bits and pieces of her past)

pure vanilla corrects himself, and yet he still ponders memories about him and white lily by saying how it was “our (speaking to DE) secret garden” and how “we (still referring to DE) used to walk.”

despite the fact that the cookie before him is clearly not the friend he once knew, he still sees her beneath the crimson surface. despite her straight up renouncing that she has anything to do with white lily anymore, pure vanilla refuses to fall to that facade and chooses to believe that his friend is still there, if not a little different than before. to him, dark enchantress is still the timid yet kind and ambitious scientist that he once studied with. she never went away. she only underwent a metamorphosis, even if for the worse.

its after this encounter, though, that this mindset of pure vanillas -- where his friend is alive, just “trapped” in a way -- begins to crumble.

in the aftermath of the final battle in chapter 10, pure vanilla swoops in and saves the day.

ok i had a point here but i couldnt actually find the piece of evidence i was looking for -- im PRETTY SURE it says somewhere that every denizen of the vanilla kingdom made it out before the final battle of the dark flour war but i dont remember where that information comes from

so assuming this is true, its pretty odd that pure vanilla says this, considering everyone made it out alive -- including his friends, since despite the vision pom gave him, he knows his friends are also still living, if not just MIA. so why does he imply that he wasnt able to protect everyone? there were no casualties (except for maybe those caused by the scattering of soul jam but thats a different topic entirely)

there was one person he couldnt save. pure vanilla is a healer through and through, and the most powerful one in the entirety of the game’s universe at that, and he still couldnt save his best friend. pure vanilla heals wounds, not tragic fates. he tried to bring white lily back to the surface by speaking of the past with dark enchantress in the dialogue leading up to the conclusion of chapter 10. he tried reasoning with her, telling her that there were times before when she was happy. she did not have to make a violent conquest out of a now-defunct destiny. she could still make a difference to all the lives around her -- her self-proclaimed purpose -- without bloodshed or destruction, and yet, she refuses, dead-set in her ways based solely on the traumatic images burned forever into her rebaked soul.

hell, pure vanilla even showed mercy on her during the dark flour war. he used crescent moon magic, supposedly the most dangerous magic of them all -- surely he couldve killed her with that (but then again we dont know the exact parameters of what each magic can and cannot do), but he instead simply trapped her. did he not have it in him to put an end to her destruction? surely a truly benevolent and altruistic being would destroy the greatest enemy of the peace and prosperity of the entire world, right? well, that would be a little hard to do if said enemy is your best friend.

he could not save her, nor could he end it all -- one of which, he had the power to do, but he chose not to.

finally, i am brought to my point.

the morning before the final meeting that will change the world forever, pure vanilla wanders into his precious garden where he would spend hours with white lily, whispering among the flowers. days from another life entirely (and literally, in white lilys case). the truth has been spilled about dark enchantress’s identity. plans are finally moving forward to bring forth an attack in her domain. her, being someone he had once believed to be his best friend.

it is there where the realization finally hits him. white lily, the quiet but passionate girl he once knew and adventured with, is gone. she has been since that fateful night. the vengeful woman he fought against and confronted in his own ruined kingdom was not white lily. he may have hoped against hope that he would be able to find his dear friend clinging to life beneath whatever horrible thing had happened to her that night, that he’d be able to once again share laughs and talk amidst the fronds and petals of their garden, but ultimately, pure vanilla finally has to face the truth that he has been hiding himself away from:

even the world’s greatest healer cant bring back the dead.

#thinkposting #messily formatted bc i dont care i just gotta get these thoughts into words yknow #i am mentally ill about these characters you have no idea

[forestryfae]

so first of all i need rly need a bike. fucking nice. i have one but from what i remember its too tall plus its been in the garage for like 5 years. so thats a nice thing to waste money on

secondly i need more pants, some of the thinner ones are starting to get too small. again.

thirdly i was p much woken up with "you need to move rooms today" an hour before work like three or four months ago and i was told id be moving into a FINISHED room. it resulted in me complaining for 3 months that my room didnt have a heater, the lights in the entryway and room didnt work, and the light in the bathroom is screaming at me.

so instead of like. fixing any of this they just stole a lightbulb from the room i was in before i moved and put it in my new room. they also checked the lamp in the bathroom but "i cant hear anything" so they just didnt fix the screeching. i still havent gotten anew lightbulb in the hall and i finally got heater sometime during summer vacation

forth of all they also. keep fucking changing the rules. some of the people here will happily wait five minutes extra for people without them needing to ask and gladly comes knocking on tveir door, but some of them will tell you you need to let them know youll be 2 minutes late or theyll just leave without you. like what the fuck. i cant be a minute or two late so i can grab my fucking work clothes before i go to work??

why do some of these people get special treatment. why do they get extra care while i can be in my room crying for two days and noone notices. if im upset they usually dont talk to me unless im angry enough at them specifically to either scream or slam doors but any other person being sad warrants repeated attempts at a fucking intervention to fix everything. they dont come to my room if im not there for something they know id enjoy but theyll come get anyone else no problem. its person to person too so some of the workers very clearly have better communication and bonds with certain people and prioritize them and easily ask them to do stuff

i cant even talk to my fucking contacts or tell people when im so sad i dont know why im alive and im frequently forgotten about and ignored, and its not like i can say "i need people to actually show me im welcome and wanted because of how ive been treated in the past and how my brain is wired to anticipate social settings" xus thats not a real thing. im just being attentionseeking and whiny and ill just hear i "should be afraid to talk to people" and i "have to show initiative" and i shouldnt put the responsibility of whatever onto other people but like. its always been like that. im not welcome or expected unless im specifically invited, noone indirectly invites me then gets surprised that i didnt join or asks if im coming. most invitations are aimed at everyone too.

and im trying so hard too. i try so hard to fit in and act the way i think people would like, cus i know noone likes me when i try to just be myself, and somehow im still not likeable enougj. but if someones cranky or antisocial and generally harder to get to join or get out of their rooms thats fine, theyll try harder w that person. not with me though.

like. would be fucking nice if someone else could take the role of making sure im included because im wanted for once.instead of me having to do that myself and constantly worrying about it being a hit or miss. would be really fucking nice if someone could ask if im sad or upset in a genuine manner instead of fucking asking "how are you" or "what are you doing". noone asks how are you because they want to know how youre doing, they ask cus they want you to tell them youre okay so they dont have to talk to you. never in my life has either of thise questions meant anything other than say okay so i can congratulate myself for caring when i dont. its like saying hi. its not meant to be a real conversation.

like i really miss being able to say im not okay and being able to be angry. i literally cant do that anymore, im too numb to be angry, i dont know how to validate myself, none of my problems are big enough to be real, none of my feelings matter unless someone else says its ok to feel stuff, i cant say anything is wrong cus then im whiny and negative, i cant complain cus thats annoying and selfish, i cant have needs cus thats selfish, self centered, and egoistical and im not the only person in the world and im not the only one who matters, and i cant have stuff i want cus thats cringey. thats embarrassing.

i want a new house? i have one so why am i complaining, im only miserable cus im not trying hard enough to enjoy living there. i just need to go on walks daily and find something to do during the day. in an area where i dont know the forest with a budget of nothing if i wanna eat the last two weeks of the month without wasting my 1k nok in savings

i want family to come visit me? (not anymore but i used to) tough luck people have their own lives and are too busy to drive 30-45 minutes to spend a couple hours with me or help me with things they specifically told me theyd help me with like. once in a while. maybe even just once or twice a month. but if i call ahead i can take the train and come visit them for 6-8 hours minimum. i pay the ticket ofc. fuck them.

i want something new, like furniture im going to use or just a funky trinket i found or i want some new hobby materials for a hobby i wanna try? no i dont. you dont NEED that, you wont even use it, its a waste of money. no fun allowed.

i cant even talk about stuff i wanna DO or try or anything cus it doesnt matter. its not important so it doesnt matter. its not big enough. its all too small and its not interesting enough. nothing i say is worth listening to even if its the exact same shit everyone else talks about.

like. i just dont get it. theres clearly something very wrong here and i know my family is a huge reason for that but i just dont understand how everything works vs is supposed to work vs isnt supposed to work. i have no concept of normal and fucked up behaviour, i literally cant tell shit apart. i can tell when something upsets me, sometimes, but thats not a good enough reason to be angry or upset, and i cant base my social interactions on that. i cant tell if im uncomfortable or not either so thats fun. not that it matters.

like. idk. i just want a lightbulb so my room isnt so dark in the evening. i dont think its too much to ask. i dont think its an unfair accusation that i think itll take a week or two atleast before i get one and theyll forget i still need one for the entryway. they dont even have any extra lightbulbs so we dont have to go several days without a working ceiling light. they just never bought any.

#talkies

[leftsidebonfire]

This isn't a hate ask, I have real questions I think it would benefit you to think about. These questions aren't meant to be accusatory, just exploratory. Whatever conclusions you come to can only be yours. You certainly don't need to answer each question, unless you want to-- these are just meant to be subjects to think on and digest.

Regarding "mean characters," do you feel the same way about mean male characters? When men in trouble cut others off or reject niceness, do you hate them in the same way? When you see a mean male character, do you assume things about them that you wouldn't assume about a female character, and vice versa? Do you unconsciously justify the mean behavior of men, but not women? Why or why not?

What expectations do you have of men vs. women? Does it affect your ability to relate to characters even when they display the same behaviors? Do any beliefs you may have bleed over into how you feel about and relate to other people? Do any beliefs you may have affect how you feel about and relate to yourself?

I encourage you to ask these questions and really think about it, because no matter what conclusion you come to, thinking carefully about these things can only benefit you.

Im only answering this in the hope that this will get everyone off my fucking back about this (not you specifically)

I have addressed the first question. Many times. But here is my answer: YES!!!!!!!! YES! this part seems to be constantly ignored by everyone wanting to jump down my throat!!! I hate ANY needlessly asshole-ish character.

My main point to this DOES regard the writing around women, though, so that's why I keep bringing it up. Usually the asshole-ish man character gets a scene where they end up being able to be vulnerable, maning the audience sympathize. Most of the time, in the same scenario, the woman character doesn't.

I can't even begin to explain the amount of times I'm watching a movie or show, and all of a sudden, a mean female character appears. Often times, they are the "leader" to the male character, usually the "tough girl" who's gonna "show him the ropes" or whatever. (I'm kinda just making up a generic scene but I can definitely think of several things that follow this format, so just go with me on this ride okay?)

So Strong Female Character (TM) has no time for nonsense. They are curt and rude and mean for no reason. They are cold and uncaring (and never get a scene to show that they ARE actually caring, etc)

Another trope to this is often: Female Character is in a fight and is clearly outnumbered, so Another character (often male but not always) jumps in and helps them, saving them. But then the woman will snap at them and say something nasty like "I HAD IT COVERED" and be rude.

So basically, a character who is very rude to a character who has been kind to them, no, is not a character I'm instantly rooting for. I just find it to be nasty.

Ive got a whole damn list of mean male characters who are rude, nasty, perverts, etc, you name it! And I hate them too!! They can be just as equally flat and one-dimensional as these women. Think of any 80s movie bully. I wanted to beat them senseless!

My favorite characters always tend to be the nice ones. I relate to them, I would be their friend, I empathize with them much easier than someone who, the entire time they've been onscreen, has been nothing but rude and mean for no discernable reason.

This is not the same as a good villain. I love a good villain. I also love to hate villains. BUT the same writing trope often befalls the villains too!!! Male villains are painted as sympathetic by the writers, or often made to be cool and charismatic (look at the Loki phenomenon) but even a lot of female villains are just cruel and mean. They don't get that ~egde~ of charisma that the male villains get. So instead of seeming sympathetic or hot ot whatever it is, they come off as very one-dimensional-flat. Just "Oh, She's a bitch because she's mean."

The whole critique is the idea that women deserve the good writing. I said it once, I'll say it again. a well-written character being mean is not bad writing. A poorly-written one who is mean, however, is. That's all I'm getting at here. I'm saying that they often get reduced to nothing. And I don't have to enjoy a mean character, male or female, if they're well-written or not. And more often than not, they are NOT my favorite character and I form no special attachment to them. It's nothing personal, I just. Don't. Like. Them.

Its not a debate about men vs women. It's a debate about the fact that women characters are USUALLY fucking terribly written more often than not, and it does nothing to make me care about them. That's what makes the well-written women so special to me, especially when they can be strong AND kind. Being strong does not equate to being a bitch. I am far more invested in a strong character who can admit when they need help, or offers kindness, than a "strong" character who shuts everyone out and is nasty all the time.

I LOVE sympathetic and kind characters. I see myself in them. Nasty characters just seem like bullies to me. I had enough of shitty bullies in high school (and anonymous in my inbox) (not you)

[wizkiddx]

hiii!!! omg please please pleasee do a part two of 3 hearts broken cus it fucking slaps miss girl

part 2 to 3 broken hearts!!! ive been so 🥺 at all the lovely comments+interest pt 1 had so thanku all !

summary: serious serious angst again will tom somehow get it back (unlike looking cos boy is a fool)

warnings: again lots of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) / wayyyy too much tea / slating Dom abit (obvs fictional but idk if I like the guy sorry his opinions are :/) / commitment issues

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

read part 1 here!!!!

That was three days ago now. Three days since you'd spoken to your boyfrien- well, Tom. It wasn't evident what the situation was.

The typical British weather brought with it the most ironic pathetic fallacy you could ever see. The clouds were dark and glooming, firing angry pellets of rain out as hard as they could. When you had pulled up on the roadside, it had just been a light drizzle but synchronised with your anxiety levels rising - so did the rain. When you finally opened up the car door, you threw your hoodie open with a sigh before running up the pathway to the front door.

It was the same burgundy red that you knew so well, but this time instead of just letting yourself in - you stood in the rain used the brass knocker thing twice. To be honest, you were hoping that no one was home - but in that house, it was pretty unlikely. After 30 seconds of getting drenched in the downpour, you were about to let yourself in with the spare key before the door swung open.

"Oh! Er Y/n?"

"Yeh um hi." You had to shout a bit over the sound of what must now be classified as a storm.

"Toms not-"

"I know. Can I come in?" As awkward and stunted as this conversation was, if you didn't get out of the rain asap you would literally end up drowned.

“Oh er yeh-yeh yeh come in.”

Harry stammered as he held the door open, gesturing for you to enter into the tiled hallway. Gratefully, you followed, throwing your sopping wet hood back down and wiping your feet on the floor.

"Sorry for just showing up, but I left some scripts here. My management are on my arse to read them and-"

"And you waited till Tom left for mum and dads?" The fluffy-haired boy has caught you red-handed; there was no defence, so you didn't even try.

Because yes, you knew on a Friday afternoon when Tom was home he would always, like clockwork, go to his parents just to kick back and watch gogglebox with both of them. It was only natural then that you chose Friday afternoon to come and pick up your stuff.

"I've been waiting in my car for half an hour till I saw him leave." Harry half laughed at that, still the two of you standing opposite each other in the hallway. "Um, do you… do you hate me Harry?"

Clearly, he hadn't quite been expecting your question going by the way his eyes almost bugged out his head.

"No, I-I, of course, I don't… look, I'm home alone so you fancy a cuppa?" Not being able to help the small chuckle, you nodded appreciatively, following Harry through the house.

"Your answer to everything is tea."

Harry had prepared the two mugs in silence as you sat at the table waiting patiently - if nervously too. You didn't miss how Harry had still used your favourite mug, having had to dig through the cupboard to find the weird square-shaped thing. Once done, he rounded the kitchen island and placed it in front of you, which you instantly cradled in two hands - for the hope of warming you up.

"You cold?" Obviously, it was pretty evident that sitting in your rain-soaked hoodie was not cosy at all. "Hang on a sec."

The boy sprung up again, returning moments later with a hoodie in hand, one he offered out to you with a little smile. The issue was that him and Tom shared clothes, so the hoodie he was kindly offering to you also had been worn by Tom before. Which made it hurt a little bit to wear. It was better than sitting soaked through though.

"How have you been then?"

"Not the best, to be honest, but uh… how about you?"

"Being with Tom while he's fighting with you? Oh, it's a barrel of laughs. You might've escaped it, but I haven't." He was trying to lighten the mood, and you appreciated it, offering him a half-smile that didn't really meet your eyes.

"Yeh sorry about that."

"Don't apologise; it doesn't sound like it's your fault Y/n."

That surprised you. Tom, especially when he was in moods like he was when you argued, wasn't one to admit when he was wrong. It was usually how the world was against him and how he was so hard done by. Accepting responsibility was something he hadn't said to you yet - but at least, small steps.

"He say that?"

"Pretty much… doesn't seem like he's angry at you, but-but he's still angry."

"At the world?" You rolled your eyes; this seemed to be the same old Tom through and through. Still immature. Still not with the right mindset.

"At himself." Harry countered, slightly entertained, when he saw the flash of surprise in your face as he sipped his drink. "And me… if I dare to so much as breathe this week."

This time you properly laughed, and Harry joined in too before the room fell back to silence - except the noise of the rain hitting the garden patio slats. You swirled the tea round in your mug, feeling the brunette's eyes on you. He'd always been your fake little brother too, since you'd met the Hollands way back 3 and a half years ago. Tom and yourself were barely adults, which meant the twins were still proper children. Harry had always been the one that understood you. Hollands, by nature, loved humans - loved to talk, to chat, to gossip. But sometimes, doing all that socialising got too much for you, as it did for Harry. He was the only one that seemed to understand social exhaustion. So when those moments had hit, you'd kept each other company in silence.

He got you, sometimes in ways your own boyfriend didn't.

"You know why he got so worked up, right?" You shook your head, looking up curiously. "Dad got under his skin on his birthday zoom thing."

Ah, now that did seem to coincide with the start of Tom's more petulant phase. To be fair, Tom had been asking to move in together for near enough a year now - but it was only in the past month it seemed to be the only thing you'd talk about and obviously only three days since the flight back. Dom's birthday barely a week ago, whilst you and Tom were both filming - except Tom had managed to get a day off where you hadn't. So you hadn't heard this conversation.

"What'd he say?"

"Was talking about how he and mum were settling down at Toms age, joked about how you rejected him, said maybe you were holding out for something better."

"Something better?" Harry sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows.

"He'd seen an article just off a trashy tabloid… it named you Hollywood's golden girl or something, said you could have the pick of any person on the planet…"

Of all the people in the world, why is Tom affected by shit journalism? He knows how much bullshit people write. He knows how it's all made up, exaggerated nonsense. And what he should know, completely and totally, is how much you love him. And if he didn't, was that your fault? Had you done something wrong, something to make him doubt you?

Harry seemed to notice the internal dialogue going on in your head, adding to the point. "It wasn't the article though, it was the fact dad said it."

Hmmm.

You and Dom got on; it wasn't like you hated the possible future father in law or whatever. Just…. you had very different outlooks. As much as Tom prided himself on how' grounded his family keeps him' -to you at least, they aren't entirely at sea level either. They'd never really had any particular struggles in life. They were the definition of middle class, and that's about it. They lived in a posh suburb of London, had all their family still around. It was the perfect family.

And whilst you were in no illusions about how privileged your life was now. It hadn't always been. You'd never had the 'nuclear' family. Instead, only your dad and a string of dodgy and fleeting stepmothers while struggling to make ends meet. So you were just always wary of Dom, of his opinions that so often his boys took for gospel. They always seemed pretty sheltered and close-minded.

And yet, Tom was a grown man.

"I get that, I just… Tom should know that we know more about our relationship than his dad. I mean,… have I done something wrong? Made him think I'm not in this for the long haul?"

"No nonono Y/n he's just… well he's an idiot, isn't he? I don't think he properly understands why you're cautious about moving and everything. He's just an idio- "

Harry was cut off for lightly insulting his brother by the sound of the front door opening, both of your heads swivelling towards the source. You then met Harry's eyes in a panic, to which he replied relatively simply.

"Just talk to each other. For my sake." You would've argued if it weren't for the fact you were so focused on Tom's shuffling around in the entrance hallway - back early from his parents.

"Baz? Where you at? I thought I saw Y/n's car and-"

"Kitchen!!!" Before Tom could say anything else, possibly landing himself in more trouble, Harry interrupted as his chair screeched while standing up. And then Tom was just there. Standing in the doorway, his arms dropping limply to his side as he noticed you. Everything about that moment seemed to freeze, when you locked eyes with him for the first time in three days. It didn't go unnoticed, the way his Adams apple bobbed, the way his eyes widen. The boy looked plain and simply terrified.

It was Harry who broke the silence, after giving you a stern look that said 'stay'. The younger Holland boy walked up to Tom and spoke.

"Try actually talking and actually listening about your problems with each other." And then he was gone, down the hallway and up the stairs.

For a few moments, Tom stayed absolutely stationary, now staring at where Harry had been when speaking to the both of you (but mainly Tom). Long enough to put your sense of unease at an all-time high, ready to make a break for it.

"If you don't want to talk, then I can leav-"

"NO!" Apparently snapping out of it, Tom exclaimed loud enough to make you flinch from your seat. "Sorry! I-I just… I wasn't expecting to… you know, to see you."

"Yeh I just uh- just came to pick up some scripts… Harry cornered me with a tea, though; otherwise, I'd be…."

"Baz thinks the whole world could be fixed with tea."

"that's what I said!" You instinctively responded, forgetting the fact you're supposed to be mad at him, and just for a second falling back into your normal flow.

Tom didn't even try to hide his grin in response, until you quickly corrected your face- then he did too. Turning around to put the kettle on for himself. Because right now, he needed to fix his whole world, and he needed all the help he could get. For a period, the only noise was the sound of the kettle boiling, then the teaspoon clinking against the mug as he stirred - until he padded over, taking the seat across from you.

"So."

"So."

"It's been a while," Tom stated the bloody obvious.

"You never called."

"Didn't think you'd want me to."

You thought that the early signs weren't all that auspicious. His ability to read a situation once again failing.

"I wanted you to say something."

"Say what?"

"What do you think Tom?" He replied to the sarcastic tone by sucking in a sharp breath, holding it for a second, before slowly exhaling. As if trying to compose himself, take time to think of a response - a mature move for him.

"Well, I think you want me to say sorry? For being so moody and not waiting for you and for upsetting those kids. And thanks too, for covering for me?"

You just hummed. Waiting for him to continue. Because yes, you did deserve all those things. But you also deserved more. An apology for, oh I don't know, saying he didn't think you loved him? It was a wait that never ended, he had nothing more to add.

"Going by your face, I take it I missed something?"

The bloody cheek of it.

"Theres nothing else? Nothing else at all? …" You gave him that chance, the opportunity but all he could respond with was a shake of his head. "You thought I was fine about you saying that I don't love you?" You hadn't intended on raising your voice, but really you hadn't realised you did till after the fact. To blinded by rage at his ignorance.

"You want to talk about this now?"

"When else Tom?" You sighed, realising he perhaps wasn't ready for this conversation. Maybe he needed more time to think things through, have sense talked into him by various wiser family members. Or maybe, he never would be. That was the worst-case scenario. But also… you're most likely prediction.

He shuffled in his seat, clearing his voice but not saying anything. Not a peep.

"I have spent three years of my life with you. I've had countless nights of too little sleep because that was the only time you could facetime. I've exposed my relationship to the world and people's opinions because you didn't want to hide. All I've done is love you. How could you even say that?" There might've been tears in your eyes, yet you were determined to keep them at bay. You needed to have this out, one way or another, to be clear and cohesive and logical. No time to cry.

"Y/n I know that, I…" He sighed, instinctively reaching for your hand, but you were quicker to pull it away. There was hurt in his eyes, but so there should be. "It just sometimes feels like that's it for you. That yeh you love me but you just want to standstill. That this is as much as it'll ever be."

Your emotions were suddenly uncontainable. Your voice croaked as you whispered, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No love, nonono if that's how you feel then that's okay. But it's something I'm not… shit this is hard." He took a pause to take a sip of his drink, your glazed eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I can stand still anymore. And yeh I was pissy and childish the other day because my dad got under my skin about the whole moving in thing… But these past few days, it just has got me thinking. Because I love you, so much."

This time when he reached out to grab your hand, you actually leaned into it yourself. Not because you were giving in, but because this hurt. This hurt so fucking much that you needed something to ground you, or else god knows. Because the way he was speaking, it sounded so finite.

"I love you too."

"I do know, which is…is why this is so hard." At the very least, Tom had conceded that.

The conversation ceased to silence yet again. The room felt so cold; even Tom/Harry's hoodie was doing nothing to keep you from the endless empty cold that seemed to be coming from within.

"When I re-registered my health card last month, and I made you my emergency contact on it. I-I made you my next of kin on everything actually. I didn't think about it twice. And-and this-"You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, immediately pulling up the app onto the open page. "This is my Pinterest board for our baby's nursery theme. I know-" You paused, to quickly wipe your cheeks clear of the tear tracks that may or may not have been there. "I know it's probably a long way away, but I just love the Scandinavian theme." You laughed at yourself, suddenly embarrassed at your blabbering and quickly pulled up a different app. "And this… this was from the other week when I was helping Y/bf/n start her vows." Hands trembling as you turned the phone around for Tom to see again. "She was finding it really tricky so she said, what would you say to Tom on your wedding, so-so I made this list." You only dared to look at him when you were sure he'd be reading through that note.

It was bizarre because he looked… well, he looked happy. Here you were feeling traumatised, showing things that you'd barely even deeped how committed they were - and he was pleased? Feeling the fire burn once again inside of your chest, you quickly swiped the phone away and back into your pocket. Only then did he look up, eyes widening - presumably at quite how psychotic you looked.

"So don't you dare say that I don't want a future with you."

You said it with such force, there was a pause. Tom letting those words sink deep into his brain. The way his expression flickered minutely gave you hope. You thought he got it. You thought he really understood now.

"But why don't you want to move in then?"

There it was again. He knew why. But he didn't get it. And, probably, he never would.

You were about to crash completely. So you ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even aware of your chair crashing to the floor in your wake. You ran out of that house and away from him. Away from who you had thought was the love of your life.

?give tom a final chance w one last part?

feedback is always v v appreciated <3

tom taglist : @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08

people i think might be interestd in this (sorry if not just let me know and i'll remove the tag!!!): @obiwanownsmyass @wildxwidow @parkersvogue @coffeewithoutcaffeine @tomhollandlol @thefallenbibliophilequote @clumsymandu @hiraethenthusiast @mannien @abrielleholland @evermorehabit @niallberry @greatpizzascissorstaco @runawayolives @annathesillyfriend @letsgotothemoonlight @lovelybarnes

#tom x reader #tom holland fic #tomholland #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #famous!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x actress!reader #harry holland

[damnredthing]

The mother of all trailers

If the show is anywhere near as good as the trailer, we are so going to be in for a hell of a ride.

This post will contain a lot of ramblings, guesses, what ifs and a bunch of observations. I’ll try to keep the topics chronologically to the scenes as they appear in the trailer, UNLESS I think scenes belong together. I’ll also borrow from some of the other trailers when I remember something that fits in here.

First off – the soundtrack

Will that actually be the soundtrack of the show? It sounds so unique and awesome. It totally adds to the hype. I actually felt like my heart was vibrating when the subwoofer went into hyperbole mode. The soundtrack has been stuck in my head since I heard it for the first time, arrrrgghh!

 Cuteness overload

Pike:

Me:

Nuff said.

The nurse onesie is not a Chapel trademark

This pic of the very cozy looking lounge shows that the nurse onesie Chapel is wearing in her promo trailer is not exclusively a Chapel thing (which I am a bit sad about).

On a side note, look at those reflections on the floor! I love the level of detail here.

Touching the space egg is never a good idea

I think the guy touching the space egg and getting a free flight in return is (for a change!) not Pike. I thought he was at first (because he is a trouble magnet), but at a second and third look, I think it’s a science officer. The away team consists of 2 reds (Uhura and La’an) and two blues (Spock and unknown science officer).

Here you can see it’s clearly not Pike.

My guess is it’s the guy on this picture next to Uhura.

And I go even further and call him Lt. Dever from episode 1.5 according to IMDB played by Graham Parkhurst:

https://www.imdb.com/name/nm8525925/?ref_=tt_cl_t_11

I love this job

I know this scene is meant to be funny and cute, but oh man am I glad to hear Pike say these words!

It is so good to see him come to terms with his fate, at least to the degree that he can allow himself to enjoy his life as long as he has it. Remember, he thinks he is going to die. He does not know what we know. He could also fall into a deep depression over this knowledge, but it seems he chooses the opposite path and makes the best of his life.

This whole dark fade shadowing over Pike is like a shadow over the whole show. He is such a lovable character, and yet we all already know what’s going to happen to him. Even though Pike will be able to live with Vina in the illusions created by the Talosians, it still means he will be exiled from Starfleet, Earth and everyone else he loves. It is not a happy ending in my book and I still hope they gonna retcon that… or rather continue to tell the story of what happens after Pike stayed on Talos IV for a while. It wouldn’t even be a retcon, just a continuation!

I mean, the producers said this show would be utopian and filled with positive vibes. Let the show end in a positive way, too, by finding a better solution for Pike and Vina, pretty please?

More additional badges!

Remember the additional badge I mentioned in one of my last posts, the one Ortegas is wearing?

The new trailer shows also Chapel, M’Benga and Pike wearing them:

I have no idea what that badge is. But in all scenes the crew seems to be stressed out. Sickbay is busy and crowded, Ortegas is very focused on piloting the Enterprise and Pike sits in a dark ready room or his quarters, probably due to power outtages. He also looks a bit sweaty. You can hear him conjuring his crew, motivating them. I am thinking this is a disaster scenario that probably involves a radiation leak or something like that, and the badges are maybe some sort of dosimeter.

Deserted base?

I think the scene with Spock and Pike on the sandy stormy planet is from the same episode as the scene in Una’s and Hemmer’s promo trailers:

The constructions look like earth design. It’s probably a deserted human colony.

What made me chuckle is how Uni hails the Enterprise telling them that the storm is only getting closer, and who do we actually see ending up in the storm?

Of course…

Have I already mentioned how much I love those jackets? I want one! I totally do! I’ve never been a cosplayer, but I want one of those jackets.

Alien infestation on the Enterprise?

It looks like the Enterprise is going to have some trouble with alien critters invading the ship.

Okay, I probably am weird, because I find this alien cute, too (minus the teeth)!

The sheer amount of aliens presented just in the few minutes of the trailers is amazing! Strange New Worlds, people. We really get what we asked for!

Okay people, we need to talk

This scene is what keeps me thinking about this episode for days now.

Besides that it looks absolutely beautiful, the one thing that sticks out to me is that you can see Pike on the right side standing next to a lady. That alone is not what makes me thinking, but the fact that he is the ONLY one from the Enterprise crew on this picture. And if you look at all the other scenes that (I think) belong to this episode, it’s always just him.

From the looks of it, there seems to be royalty involved. The boy in the foreground is probably a prince or the new young king or some such. The lady next to Pike is maybe his mother?

I wonder whether she is also the lady in ahem… this scene:

Why I think both scenes belong to the same episode?

Because you can see the bedroom again in a later scene:

First of all you can see the bed on the right side. The overall interior looks the same. Also, Pike shielding a woman (THE woman presumably), again being the only visible Enterprise crew. There are 4 guards (one of which is about to be vaporized) with lance weapons, I assume they belong to the royal guards. We do not see the attacker. I hope it’s none from the Enterprise because I want to see as few deaths as possible in this show, especially not caused by Starfleet crew. However, these guards are the same in their appearance as these 3 people here:

They are running on lawn. I guess this is part of the exterior garden we’ve seen in the first pic. I wonder who they are chasing.

Maybe this guy?

All these scenes combined and the fact that we only ever see Pike on that planet makes me wonder what’s really going on there. I gotta admit I was struggling with the picture of Pike and that other woman that is not Vina. My headcanon is now trying to find an excuse for that. :P

What if the royal family just doesn’t want Pike to return to his ship and somehow produce an interference signal that prevents him from communicating and beaming. The guards are probably trying to apprehend him. Who else should Pike point his phaser at? Also look at the two onlookers in the background. If there wasn’t a fuss to catch their attention – say a group of guards trying to apprehend someone – they wouldn’t even notice that Pike was threatening someone. No, there must be something going on that is enough of a disturbance to make them watch.

Maybe there is some trickery or seduction or aphrodisiac or mind fucking involved to keep Pike on that planet and to make him interested in that woman. As royals they maybe think they can have everything they want.

I know I am grasping at straws here (I really want Pike to be with Vina). I am curious what it will turn out to be in the end.

What is going on here?

Are Una and La’an standing on the Enterprise’s hull without EV suites? How is that even possible? Is that alien entity doing that? Or is that a force field bubble in the background? Or did the Enterprise maybe land on a planet? I have so many questions…

Diplomacy disaster

This is not going to be Pike’s diplomacy moment of glory. This could cost him a lot of diplomacy skill points for his Timelines cards. :P

I love Ortegas’s sass. I hope she’s going to walk that slippery slope without falling flat on her nose. Sass can get quite close to insubordination.

What is going on here 2.0?

Now this looks interesting!

And what a wonderful easter egg! Ortegas is the pilot of the Enterprise, and she is a fencer.

And Sulu – who is probably going to be Ortegas’s successor – is the pilot of the Enterprise, and he is a fencer.

But what in the heck is going on here on the Enterprise? This IS the Enterprise, the hallway, the floor and the red door all look like the Enterprise. We also see sickbay slightly modified as well:

We see Ortegas and in the background Hemmer.

We see Uhura, probably as the Queen. And is that La’an on the right side as one of her guards? I wonder who Queen Uhura is looking down to (I have an idea though).

And we see Una mastering her crossbow skills.

I wonder what Pike’s role will be, maybe the harlequin?

Or maybe he is the only one who is normal and finds himself on a totally changed Enterprise with his entire crew in other roles.

I think this is going to be a comedic relief episode.

Ooookay, we need to talk… again!

How can this

and this

lead to this?

I mean, come on! Pike beams over with 4 (!) redshirts and he is the one who gets captured? How did the other 4 even make it back to the Enterprise (presuming they did) and Pike not? Beam trap? Cold knock-out?

Pike’s company here is everything but good news. We have one Orion – who is probably the leader of this group – and maybe a Reman(?) who is doing the dirty deeds, and then a humanoid holding Pike, who we cannot see.

What do they want from Pike? Did they just grab the only one with the shiny golden armor assuming he must be a big shot? Or do they know who they captured and it was maybe even an assignment? We know from IMDB there is a piracy episode. Piracy in our times works like this: Get the ship under control, dispose of the crew, keep the Captain as the most valuable “asset”, demand ransom from the shipping company. Maybe there’s something like this going on here.

But then again, there is an Orion and that alone makes me nervous. It is a nice backlash to “The Cage” though, in which Pike pondered about running a business on the Orion colony (meaning joining their slavery business). And now here he is tied and on his knees with an Orion pirate staring down on him. Right in yo face (like, literally!).

This “conversation” must have been going on for a bit already, as the multiple bruises on Pike’s face and his disheveled hair suggest:

My first question is: Why - of all people - did Pike go on this mission into non-federation space with 4 redshirts? And if the pirates planned to capture the Captain all along, how did they manage to lure him on this mission? (okay, that were 2 questions)

My second (third) question is: What are they trying to get Pike to do that requires torture? Do they want his security codes (which would be useless because if the Captain gets captured, what is the first thing Number 1 is going to change on the Enterprise)? Do they want him to do anything else? Or are they just being a$$holes on a power trip?

The Orion guy is holding a small bowl in his hand. Maybe this is some “eat this dog food, or we make you” thing.

Whatever it is, Pike is in a quite hopeless and very shitty situation there.

I hate violence (especially directed at people I care for), I already struggled with this when I watched Hell on Wheels. But I also understand that this is an often used tool to create drama and suspense. I just hope Pike won’t get roughened up too much here and he gets freed fast. It is never a good thing to be around an Orion on the losing end. Never!

And please don’t let this be the last episode of the season ending in a cliffhanger. I swear to god, I would go batshit crazy.

 I wanna close this thing by wishing you all a happy First Contact Day! LLAP

#Captain Pike #Christopher Pike #Strange New Worlds #SNW #Anson Mount #Spock #Una #Uhura #Trailer #this trailer is so amazeballs #I cannot wait

[moonbaby26]

Title: Escape

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Notes: Actual pairing interaction starts in the second section after the Reader character gets out of the elevator, feel free to skip down to that if you like. Reader thinks about Peter in the first section, but it is more setting up how they got so separated from the others, plus a Wolvie cameo. I wanted Peter x Reader to be able to have more interaction away from the group.

Summary: Continuation of previous chapter. Set during X-Men: Age of Apocalypse. You and the others have been taken to Stryker’s base and must survive to find your way out together.

Warnings: Wolverine cameo advisory with a 100% chance of stabby stab. Mild language.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

——————————

“The day of reckoning is here.”

Your eyes opened at once, that unmistakeable voice now reverberating through your mind as fluorescent lights passed one after another above you.

“Professor?” You breathed aloud, immediately trying to sit up on the moving gurney.

But the restraints were drawn too tightly as your head only rebounded backward just as quickly when your torso didn’t rise in tandem.

“Shit!” the guard to your left cursed, his hand drawing back from the gurney rail at your sudden movement.

You turned your head towards him, confused, even as the professor’s words continued in your mind.

Yet Xavier’s voice sounded strange, forced. And you didn’t understand the context. Was it a warning? A threat to someone?

It didn’t really seem to fit the current circumstances to say it was directed at you or your captors. But he only kept speaking.

“The dawn of a new era will emerge. For there is nothing you can do...to stop what is coming.”

The two guards were looking around too then, reacting in sync with the telepathic message leaving you no doubt that they could hear it as well.

But why would Xavier be in their heads too? Did he already know where you were?

One guard chided the other, as if the two of them didn’t both have the same frightened expression. “Damn stun pulse is wearing off it is all, just hurry up and finish this transport. Colonel Stryker wants it taken to the lower testing bay,”

“Don’t tell me you aren’t hearing that voice?” The other guard retorted, “What the hell is that?”

Did they just call you an ‘it’? What was this place? Not a hospital surely. But you could barely dwell on the implications of the guard’s words ‘lower testing bay’, and the impending threat that represented as your last memories finally began to bubble up.

The X-Mansion in rubble, the helicopters swooping in over the trees, the students and staff unconscious in the grass, that soldier cracking your ribs, and-

Peter.

He was a stranger to you still, but he’d been right there against you. Surely you had drawn more attention to him just because your powers had let you resist a few moments longer than the others. Because you’d been so stubborn, not going down until you’d been forced to.

If these men had hurt any of your friends, you would be furious. But if Peter, who had also saved so many of your friends was now in more severe danger because of your actions, you wouldn’t forgive yourself.

“Where did you take the others!?” You arched against the restraints abruptly, your palms opening to face upward, trying to summon any bit of your energy at all. A wisp, an orb, anything that could have helped you right now. You had to find your friends.

But nothing came. Not even a glow or flicker of what you truly were as you now had both guards’ full attention.

“Freak! Just shut up!” One of them shoved the gurney in retaliation to your outburst, the caster wheels rattling across the concrete floor before the bed rail hit against one of the walls, jarring you painfully.

“Those with the greatest power. Protect those without. That's my message to the world.”

Xavier concluded his words then. And somehow, that sounded more like himself than any of the rest of it. The real meaning still eluded you, but hearing him in that tone at least meant he was okay. He was somewhere urging the rest of you on. At least this part you knew was true as you took a calming breath, realizing panic and anger would serve you nothing right now.

Something was blocking your powers. That much was obvious. It would be unrealistic to think that the effects of any stun weapon would be this long lasting though.

On the other hand, you knew chemicals existed that could also temporarily block mutations. Hank used one almost medicinally whenever he didn’t wish to be in his true “Beast” form. But it had to be injected direct into the veins to have any real effect.

You could feel that they hadn’t removed any of your clothing, nor had they rolled up the long sleeves you were wearing. You doubted they would risk a chemical like that wearing off at an inopportune time and likely would have started an IV if they possessed anything of that nature.

There were no tubes or lines attached to you that you could tell, only the restraints now holding you to this bed. Leather straps across your body, metal cuffs on your ankles and wrists-

But wait, you were able to move your head as you’d already discovered. You shifted it again, trying to get a better feel of what was around your neck. Metal as well, but loose as you could still lift your head up enough to see it just a bit. It and its dull, red status light.

Inhibitor collar, you realized with an all new dread sinking in. You had heard of these of course, but it was the kind of thing that students sheltered at Xavier’s school would never have to dream of really. Something you never thought you’d have to experience personally.

How naive.

But you still couldn’t give up. Your mind was racing as you tried to come up with any strategies now. Your options were so limited, but they couldn’t keep you tied down forever. Surely they’d have to move you to a more permanent containment at some point, untie you if even for a moment.

Yet, there were guns as well. You hadn’t missed that detail, but you considered it more fully now as you glanced to the long barrells swaying behind each guard’s back as they pushed you along.

They were slowing now though. You raised your head enough again to see elevator doors nearing. The lower testing bay, you remembered them saying.

But just as one guard had started to reach for the keypad beside the doors, an alarm blared, all three of you startling at the sound.

Orange lights lit up along the walls, spinning in time with the sirens.

“Weapon X is loose. I repeat, Weapon X is loose!” A man’s unnerved voice sounded over speakers you couldn’t see, echoing down the corridors.

You could only watch as both guards spun around on their heels at that, guns immediately drawn. The one thing you could be absolutely sure of then, was that you were now the very least of their concerns.

Before you could consider how to use this surprise in your favor though, screams and the echo of gunfire erupted seemingly on top of you all.

The guards were terrified. This could be your only chance.

“Take this collar off of me, please! I can help you!” You weren’t begging as much as you were truly trying to reason with them. “Look, this is serious right!?”

More men were screaming just around the corner. Only feet away now. Clearly their time to consider had run out.

You saw one of the guards glance down at you, weighing your offer if just for that moment. The other was still staring straight ahead, gun braced, body rigid.

“FIRE!” The one not looking at you screamed, and that was it. It was too late.

You flinched as the gunfire rang deafening in your ears, the muzzle flashes just above you while empty bullet shells rained onto the floor.

You didn’t know how many bullets their gun magazines could hold, but the barrage seemed to just go on and on until an inhuman snarl rose even above the pounding gunshots.

Like a blur he was upon them. One guard was immediately thrown against a nearby wall, as if he were made of paper. His gun didn’t even faze the attacker.

You were frozen as you had to watch him die in front of you. Metal blades impaled the guard, blood splatter running down the wall as his body fell. You wished the other guard would have just turned and ran, but that probably would have been fruitless now too if you were being honest.

The attacker had turned immediately back around, one slash knocking the gun away from the remaining guard, and the second taking out his throat.

You were too in shock to do anything but close your eyes in the moment you felt some of the blood hit you. It was warm was all you could really process, before you opened your eyes again to now see the killer standing over you.

His breath was fast, eyes black, no emotion evident but rage. He had no clothing on him above the waist, just muscular and bloodied with metal cords coming out of his body and attaching to some sort of helmet.

You heard the random sound of more bits of metal hitting the ground, and thought you saw a few bullets working out in reverse from his flesh.

He was one of you then, a mutant.

But you were afraid to speak. Anything could set him off again.

He was looking down at you, through you really. You thought you saw his eyes go to your throat. The collar? Or maybe you just imagined it. Everything was happening in just seconds.

His arm swung suddenly, those blades were part of him you realized, attached to his fists as they came for you. At least it would be a quick death.

You felt a burning, heard ripping and even the metal of the bed breaking as he struck more than once.

“He’s here!” Someone else screamed from back down the hallway and the gunfire started all over again.

You moved at the sound, why you didn’t know, it should have been all over regardless. But in your amazement, you realized you could move. His claws had broken through the restraints, broken the bolts that held you to the bed. You were bleeding, but only from cuts as he’d grazed you.

He’d freed you.

The gurney tumbled over with a clatter as you jumped from it. But bullets were hitting all around you as the guards continued to fire at him. You still had the inhibitor collar on, so you couldn’t defend from that. You weren’t bulletproof like him.

And he was already charging them again, but there were so many this time. A bullet grazed your arm, and you knew you had to get out of there now.

You turned, hitting the elevator keypad. You had no choice as you wouldn’t make it out of this hallway otherwise. You ducked inside as soon as the doors opened, trying to stay against the sides even as bullets were now hitting the back of the elevator. The only way was down, and you took it.

As the doors closed, and the elevator finally sank below the firing line, you allowed yourself some real breaths.

To think, just hours ago your main concern had only been whether or not you were ready for Hank’s organic chemistry final. You’d laugh if you weren’t still trembling a little, clothes torn and blood all over, most of it not even your own.

Now it was time to find the others and a way out.

—————————

“(Y/N)?” You heard in your mind, pausing in the abandoned hallway you were now wandering down. You’d left the elevator behind some time ago, but hadn’t yet found any other way back off this level.

“Jean?” You answered aloud, both surprised and relieved. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. We are now. I saw them take you too, but where are you?”

Talking to a telepath was always a bit strange. You could feel her own stress and anxiety as she began to fill your mind. She wanted to see what you were seeing.

You looked around you to oblige her, but from what you could tell every corridor only looked like more of the same in this labyrinth.

“I got into an elevator when all the shooting started, when that man-“

“Logan. We met him too. He’s escaped now, he-” She paused, your recent memories now visible to her. “He helped you.”

“He did.” You felt she both was and wasn’t surprised at this.

“Anyway,” She continued as if something was distracting her, like she was physically talking to someone else, while mentally talking to you. “The Professor needs us. We’re sending Peter to find you. He’ll bring you to us and then we’re leaving together.”

“Okay,” Was all you could answer, as you felt Jean leave your mind abruptly at that. You remembered Xavier’s odd speech earlier, something you really hadn’t had time to deconstruct any further with everything else that had happened immediately after. You supposed they would fill you in when you were all reunited.

But you did feel a significant weight leave your shoulders at the mention of Peter’s name, even though it sounded like this horrific day was still far from over. He was okay too then at least. You hadn’t screwed up enough to get him hurt in a way you couldn’t take back.

Yet how long would it take for him to find you? Should you just stay in place, or go back to the elevator now? You hadn’t found any stairwells or other-

“(Y/N)?”

You’d be lying to say you didn’t almost fall over in surprise as a tiny gust of air was the only other thing that announced him as Peter was suddenly standing beside you.

“You’re as bad as Kurt!” You gasped, before you could stop yourself. You clenched one fist at your side, at least having the self control not to punch him right in the arm as you might have done with some of the boys at school if they had given you that kind of scare.

“That’s the blue kid with the tail right? Not to be confused with the big blue hairy guy, he’s the one that told me your name by the way, or the blue famous chick from TV?” He shook his head, but his eyes were amused. “You guys have some kind of quota on the color blue or what?”

You stared at him. He did like to talk didn’t he?

When you didn’t respond right away, you saw his eyes wander down, then back up. “Red said you’d be a bit of a mess, but you sure you’re okay?”

Your shirt was torn from well, now you knew him as Logan...that man’s claws. Those cuts were still bleeding a bit, but the guard’s blood was on you as well. The metal shackles were also still on your wrists and ankles, though their chains had been broken, and the inhibitor collar was around your neck. Yes, you must look quite a sight.

“You mean Jean,” you corrected. She must have given him some warning at least before sending him. “Yeah, I’m fine. So you found another way out of here, we should-”

But he didn’t seem to be listening, either that or you weren’t very convincing on the being okay sentiment.

He looked quite serious all of the sudden. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you when Colonel douchebag was trying to work you over.”

You blinked. What was he talking about?

“Stryker I guess they said his name was, the guy that kicked you back at the house.” He just continued. “That piece of shit bailed already.”

“How did you know about that?” You asked honestly. Peter had been unconscious as far as you’d known.

“I mean I was in and out,” He answered, seemingly understanding your confusion now. “But uh...” He hesitated, kind of an awkward smirk building then. “I definitely remember you laying on me. The impact wasn’t that great, but afterward was pretty nice.”

Your felt a heat rising to your face immediately. The absurdity of being physically embarrassed at his implication and tone, as you stood here literally bleeding in the belly of some mutant torturing black ops lab was not lost on you.

“Look, I...” You didn’t even know what to say, but you knew if you didn’t start talking now you were never going to recover control here. “I’m really glad they didn’t hurt you, and I’m sorry too if I got you involved deeper in all of this. And I want to thank you for pulling everyone out of the mansion this morning. We owe you so much. I just-” Oh man, where were you even going with this? You looked to him still feeling like you were just digging yourself deeper, “You can stop me anytime now you know?”

He was now outright grinning. “You’re welcome, babe.”

Not helping. AT ALL.

You were staring at him again. “They’re going to be waiting on us, you know,” You felt you were going to be pleading with him in a moment.

“I know, places to be, worlds to save...” He just moved closer and you tensed a little bit. He noticed, but stood his ground. “I have to brace you or you’re just going to be hurt even more when I run you back to them.”

“So is that how you do it, then? You’re just that fast?” You asked honestly. His actual mutation wasn’t something there’d been any chance to discuss. You could infer only so many ways he would have been able to evacuate those in the mansion almost instantaneously. But you knew teleporters too, even people who could move through reality on other planes. There was always more than one way to do something.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” He chuckled, smirking enough for you to know he was still just picking with you as one of his hands went behind your head and the other to your ribs to brace you. He really did know where you’d been hit then.

His hands were warm, and you could smell that damn cologne again now as you tried to ready yourself for whatever was about to happen.

You didn’t know what you had expected. You knew how it felt to take off in a jet, or slam the gas pedal down in one of the Professor’s expensive cars, or ride on a really intense roller coaster. But this wasn’t that. There wasn’t even any time for your brain to register the acceleration. It felt like just a single heartbeat before you were standing back in front of those elevator doors with him.

It was the deceleration that hit you. By the time your body knew it was moving, it had already stopped again, your organs lurching and your equilibrium completely thrown off as vertigo took over. You leaned forward immediately, trying not to dry heave as puking seemed almost imminent.

He took one of your hands, his other hand moving down from your ribs to your waist as he helped support you still.

“It’ll pass. It happens to everyone the first time,” He spoke, probably the softest tone you’d heard from him to this point.

“You’re telling me there are people who have been-” You swallowed, fighting that nausea back down. “have been with you multiple times?” You meant to say multiple times like that. People who needed to be rescued this way multiple times. You stood up, still queasy as you tried to face him and correct this blunder immediately. Why did this guy have you so flustered!?

“I’m not normally like this,” you stammered, waiting for some great retort from him as you’d just left yourself wide open with that slip.

It was only then that you realized he still had one hand on your waist, and you were now facing him, just inches apart. And the silence was worse. It was much worse while he was just looking back at you.

“No,” He finally said, “I uh...I don’t have anyone that’s stayed around long enough for that.”

He wasn’t joking at all now and you knew it.

“I didn’t mean...” You started, but stopped again when you didn’t know how to finish.

But the vulnerability was gone just as soon as it’d come. His smirk returned as he let go of you, moving forward to hit the keypad for the elevator. “I did look for stairwells by the way, if you were wondering. It only took me as long as it did to find you down here because this damn elevator is slow as hell.”

You actually were a little relieved to finally be focusing back to the task at hand. But you still felt an unspoken conversation lingering that would need to be continued later. You wanted him to know who you really were.

And honestly...you now wanted to know who he really was.

The harsh buzz from the keypad brought you back to attention as Peter hit it again.

A tiny screen blinked “CODE ERROR” in red as he groaned. “It didn’t need a damn code to come down, that makes no sense!”

You responded in a few moments, realizing the likely truth fairly quickly. “But it would make sense if you were more concerned about things getting out of the lab than you were of things getting in.” The same would be true for the lack of entry and exit points. They surely weren’t concerned with fire safety or anything else but keeping their specimens captive when they built this place.

“Ugh, that’s dark,” He answered, glancing at you and then back to the keypad. “You’re almost making me not feel so bad for all the guys that looked like swiss cheese on the way down here. But lucky for you, you’ve got me, and these five hombres.” He waved his fingers at you before immediately beginning to punch in multiple codes in faster succession than of course would have been possible for anyone else.

“Peter, I don’t think-” You started, already having a good suspicion of how this might play out, before the keypad abruptly quit accepting inputs, the tiny screen then blinking LOCKOUT. The only thing that did surprise you was a new even thicker door suddenly closing over the original elevator doors.

And you couldn’t help it then. You laughed. A real laugh. It was just the dumbest icing on the cake. “Okay, Han Solo. I think that will do.” You didn’t care if he would understand the reference or not. You needed that laugh right now.

But he didn’t let you down. Not even for a moment. “Okay then Leia, then you show me how we’re getting past here to save the ugly little ewoks.”

You were still snickering a little, but you shook your head. “I can’t,” You motioned to the inhibitor collar still around your neck. “Not with this on. It’s blocking my powers.” You had hoped once you were all back topside that Hank would be able to disarm the thing. It was probably radio controlled or something like that. “We’ll have to wait on Jean and the others to realize we’re taking too long, they’ll come for us.”

“I don’t wait,” Peter retorted. “Besides, like I said, I showed you mine. Time to show me yours.” He tilted his head, eyeing you. “Really, I’ve been dying to know.”

“Sure you have,” You were skeptical, but it was actually hard to read him right now. Was he actually that curious about you? “And I’ve already tried to take it off, it doesn’t budge.”

“Again, babe. You didn’t have me before.” The smug tone was back, as he evidently had some plan you didn’t know if you were going to like or not.

“You realize, this thing is nearly against my jugular veins, right? What are you going to do?” You had every right to be hesitant you thought. Especially after the keypad failure.

“Just be still. I’m going to vibrate it apart.” He answered confidently.

Okay, now you really didn’t like this. “Again, head, throat, things I need to stay in one piece. What if it has some self destruct thing and explodes?”

“I can pull you away from that before it even burns you. How do you think your friends lived when your house blew up this morning?”

You could have mentioned Alex’s fate then, but that would have been needlessly cruel. Alex must have already been gone before Peter even entered the building. He did save everyone else you thought.

“Trust me,” Peter looked you in the eyes and you could feel yourself relenting.

You really did believe him it seemed. Hopefully that faith was not misplaced. “Please be careful,” You closed your eyes, going stock still.

“For you? Of course.”

You heard his jacket move, which told you he was raising his arms. Internally you tensed-

And then all you heard were pieces of metal and circuitry skittering across the floor in every direction. You were still standing exactly as you had been as you opened your eyes to a too pleased with himself Peter.

“Some shrapnel did try to go into your face, but I moved the pieces. No kaboom though.” His expression changed then to happily expectant, “So come on, I’ve helped three times now, the stage is now yours,” He made an exagerrated motion to the big metal door now blocking the elevator. “What’s your poison?”

Poison? An interesting way to put it, but you knew what he meant. All mutant abilities were both a gift and a curse. Yet even after all these years of meeting people of your own kind, it was still very personal to show someone your real self for the very first time.

Especially when you evidently cared what he thought of you as you realized your nerves were suddenly about much more than just being able to get open a door or not. How would he react?

You took a breath, still extremely aware of his eyes on you as you turned your palms upward. It was always easiest to start with your hands. But you’d need to bring the energy all the way through you to get the kind of power it was going to take to pull this door out.

There was a slight relief in you as your hands began to glow white after a moment. At least you knew you were no longer defenseless, that these people hadn’t taken your abilities permanently.

In your peripheral vision you could see Peter shift, but you didn’t look to him, trying to concentrate as the energy spread up your arms and you closed your eyes. It always felt so warm, like being in the sun on a clear day. It spread to your chest, legs, up your shoulders and over your face. Even through your hair as you willed the energy to lift you up, now completely enveloped until you were a silhouette of a person. Glowing in soft white light and levitating about a foot off the floor.

You opened your eyes again, feeling you had things in control enough now to speak to him. The tone of your voice changed slightly in this form though. There was a hum to it, the energy moving across your vocal chords like every other part of you.

“I’m going to try and pull the door out of the way and into the hall. Please be ready to move as I won’t have a lot of control over it once it gives. My effort is going to all be on breaking it.”

You looked to him after a moment though when he didn’t respond. You knew he was fast enough to keep himself safe obviously, but you had to be sure he was ready. Was he really just staring at you? “Peter?”

He blinked. “Yeah, uh. That’s...” He stepped back from the door, but never took his eyes off you, this weird expression on his face. “That’s cool.”

“Please mind the door,” You reiterated gently, not quite sure what to make of his reaction to your powers.

“Sure, sure thing.” He sounded more like himself then. “Do your deal.”

Your deal as he put it, involved willing this same energy now in a field around the door as you rose your hand up to control it. Once you were sure you had it solidly, you began pulling your hand back, trying to pull the door out of its railing.

It gradually started to creak, but like you’d thought, this was going to take some real doing. You pulled harder and harder, the metal just groaning louder. “Come on,” You spoke, not really sure if you were talking more to yourself or the door.

Your arm was starting to really ache with the effort. But just when you thought you might have to try something else after all, you finally felt the door give. And when it gave, it did so spectacularly. This massive chunk of metal collapsed, exploding out of its rail as it rocketed down the hallway. You just moved to the side to avoid it, the smaller pieces hitting you harmlessly in this form.

To your eyes it only looked like Peter disappeared and then reappeared as he also easily missed all the debris.

Once that obstacle was out of the way, you glided down, back to the normal elevator doors. They were slightly damaged from the removal of the larger door. But now it only took minimum effort to force them open.

You entered the elevator, the inner keypad was also blinking that same “LOCKOUT” error from earlier. So the elevator itself was going nowhere. But this was now no longer an issue for you.

“I can carry us up,” You looked to Peter, though unsure how comfortable he would be with this new idea.

He was standing at the entrance of the elevator already, watching you still. You could see the wheels in his head turning. And then he finally asked. “So, you’re glowing...and flying. Is this like radioactive glow, or I just need some sunscreen kind of glow?”

“It’s just light energy in the visible spectrum.” You answered reflexively. “But not even UV, the wavelength itself doesn’t cause any damage. It’s only when I make it solid or make it unstable that I can do anything harmful with it.”

You could see he may have skipped the lessons on long and short wave energy and radiation in science class as he just kept staring.

“You’re fine, it’s safe” You smiled. Certainly not the first time you had heard such questions. “The Professor and Hank had me tested from the very beginning, I never would have been allowed so close to other students without more precautions if I was that dangerous.”

“So you’re...close to some other students?” He asked almost tauntingly, one eyebrow raised, and it took you a moment before you realized he may be getting back at you for your comments from before.

It was probably just the fact that you were in your energy form now, but you felt confident enough to respond just as quickly, “It’s more like the Brady Bunch than what you’re thinking. Like having a whole house of little brothers and sisters.”

You had already opened up the ceiling of the elevator while the two of you talked, looking up now to the empty shaft and elevator cables. It’d be much easier to move the two of you rather than to try and lift the whole elevator. You reached a hand out to Peter. “I can lift us up the shaft to the floor that the others are on and open the doors, then you can take us to them. Deal?”

You had trusted him to bring you here, as well as to remove that collar from you. Would he now trust you to bring him up several floors without dropping him?

He was looking at your hand. “I probably could just run up the walls you know.”

You paused, realizing you hadn’t considered that. You didn’t really know what all he was capable of truly. But just as you started to lower your hand, he surprised you by grabbing and holding it.

“Yet how many guys can say they flew with you, huh?”

“Practically none,” You admitted. “I don’t make a habit of picking up my friends.”

“You aren’t quite building confidence here.”

“I’m sure that door weighed more than you.”

“And look how it ended up. Again, not comforting.”

This guy was truly something else. “Come here, we take much longer and they really are going to be sending a search party for us.”

You extended the energy from your hand across his body gently. He was obviously much lighter than the door, and the closer you kept him, the easier it would be to move the both of you.

You tried not to make eye contact with him again as you levitated the two of you through the top of the elevator and up through the shaft. Even though you knew you were fully capable of doing this, you still didn’t want to lose focus.

But his voice didn’t sound frightened at all as he spoke up to let you know how high to go. “They’re on the top floor, we’re stealing a jet to get out of here.”

“Wow, but okay. Got it,” You sped up a little at that, no longer worried about passing your landing point as you went straight to the top.

When you reached the highest doors, you were able to force them open with a turn of your free hand, bringing you and Peter safely through and back onto solid ground.

You powered down immediately as your feet met the floor, the light fading back into your body until you were just standing there in your torn, bloody clothes once more. “Okay, I’m ready to get nauseous again, let’s go.”

He actually squeezed your hand before he let go of it in order to brace your head and ribs again. “For the record that felt pretty good. You’re really warm. Zero g’s was cool too. Thanks.”

“Um...you’re welcome?” You answered, a little flustered all over again to your own dismay, and really not knowing what else to say before he whisked you away in an instant.

It really was going to be the longest day ever.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

#quicksilver x reader #quicksilver #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x oc #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximof x reader #x men apocalypse #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #x men fanfiction #x men

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello!! i've made a request before but this idea came in my brain and i heard your requests were open. So ive seen a lot of fics of the brothers saving mc, but what about mc kinda of saving the brothers, i mean like badass sword fighting style. Just like a stereotypical disney prince saves a princess mc kinda saves the brothers from getting killed by a lesser demon with a sword and just being badass (and sword) and the bros find it hot (weak humans? never heard of them)

*spongebob narrator voice* 400 years lat’er..... So sorry this took so long! I genuinely don’t know why I couldn’t get it done. When I actually tried, I got it done in like 2 days. My only excuse is that I’m a horrible trash munny >.<

Obey me Boys + Power Princess MC

Lucifer

It offends him that this creature, this being not fit to lick the soles of his boots, would raise their hand to him. The attack was not even what upset him, but just the gall. The utter stupidity of this decision to throw one’s life away. The fact that they had attacked with you around only made him wish to end that pathetic life that much sooner.

“Step back [Y/N]. I’ll deal with this quic—” Lucifer cut himself off when you rushed forward. A bright shining sword in your hand as you lunged. Slashing through the demon, who wailed and instantly turned to dust & ash. “What on Earth was that?”

“Oh. It’s my sword.” You reply nonchalantly. Turning around to show it to him. “It’s a holy arc sword, or something. I can summon it from my bracelet whenever I need it. Cool to know it actually works in a pinch.”

“And where did you get such a magical artifact?” Lucifer asked. Perplexed beyond reason, but trying not to show it.

“Lord Diavolo gave it to me when I first got here.” The demon arched a brow. Lord Diavolo? “It would be really irresponsible of him to just let a human wander around hell without some kind of weapon.”

He paused for a moment. Trying to piece all of what you had just said together. Then he just chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it would be.” And here he thought that he had been the only one protecting you. When all along you could do it yourself.

His hand reached out to pat your head fondly. His breast swelling with pride. “I’ll have to thank him for giving you such a thoughtful, practical gift. We’ll also have to add sword play to your lesson plans. I’d be more than happy to be your tutor.

Mammon

‘Shit!’ Mammon mentally cursed as he was hit again.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been rough up outside a club. Given his lifestyle, and his gambling track record, he’d been pummeled by a few bouncers in his life. With his immense power, he could easily take them; if he tried. But then he would be banned from the club, and ever other, and that was something he couldn’t handle over the humiliation of being beat up by these clowns. He needed this. It was all he had.

So, he took his beatings from lesser demons when they came around. He’d only wished they’d picked a different night to get their ‘payment’ back since you were supposed to be here soon.

“Come on guys. Don’t ya think you’ve had enough?”

“We’ll tell you when we’ve had enough!” One demon sneered at him, before kicking a man while he was down. Classy. “You owe us. And we’re gonna get back every cent you owe out of your hide!”

The demon reared his foot back to kick him again, and Mammon mentally sighed. Preparing himself for the kick and really being over this since it began. But….no kick came.

The demon let out a loud grunt over the sound of a metal ‘wack’ before the two, even lesser goons beside him suffer the same fate and they all slump to the ground. “Mammon! Are you ok?!”

The silver haired demon looked up at you in shock. The light from the street lamp causing a halo to form around you, highlighting your worried face as you brandished a rusty pipe like some great sword. “Yeah…I’m fine….”

“You don’t look fine! You’re all beat up!” He just sat there as you dropped the pipe and dropped down to him. Fretting over him as you looked him over. He couldn’t hear what you were saying over the beating sound of his heart in his ears.

No one had ever tried to help him before.

Mammon lifted his arms and wrapped them around you. “Mammon? What—“Let’s get out of here.” He interrupted as he hugged you. Standing up, and helping you to your feet, after a moment to walk out of the alley. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I wanna go somewhere with you.”

“But….I thought you wanted to go out tonight. Play cards. You said you were feeling lucky?”

He couldn’t tell if that was a jab or not, but replied, “well clearly I was wrong.” Though despite his bumps and bruises, he did still feel pretty lucky right not. “I just want to get out of here. I don’t need this anymore.” You both decide to head home to help Mammon nurse his wounds. He never went back to that club, or really any club, after that night.

Levi

“Levi….I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“Nonsense!” Levi quipped in response to your perfectly reasonable, concerned feelings. “It’s just a little further. Besides, I want to see Henry 1! I’ve missed him a ton recently, and want to make sure he remembers me.” It had broken his heart to discover his poor, lost serpent had been down here, all alone, this whole time. So he made an effort to see him every now and then.

“Yeah but…isn’t this still like super-secret for Lord Diavolo’s family and stuff? What if there’s like booby traps and stuff?”

“Come on! There weren’t any booby traps or anything before. Why would he when he has Henry to keep it…..” Levi trailed off as both of you were ingulfed by a long, dark shadow. A low hissing sound growing louder as a gold, stripped serpent towered over you with a menacing glare. “That’s not Henry.”

The snake hissed loudly with bared fangs and an open mouth, and you both scream and run to get away from it.

The serpent of course chased you. Easily able to keep up, and only loosing you when the two of you duck into a narrow corridor. Levi turned around to say something to you, but you were gone. His immediate thought was that the stranger snake had gotten you, and it was all his fault, and he would never see you again!

When he came to the end of the corridor, walking out like a man on death row instead of running, he looked up to see the snake in front of him. Clearly angered by having to chase him. Levi didn’t care. He wanted to die if anything happened to you. He’d rather die than live one moment without you.

Prepared to accept his fate, the demon didn’t move when the snake unhinged his jaw to eat him in one gulp. Only for a sharp spike to thrust out from his mouth a moment later. A strange, hissing gasp escaping it before it slumped down in a lifeless heap on the floor. “[Y/N]!”

“Jesus! Not to put too fine a pin on it, but this place is literally a maze. One minute I’m next to you, and the next I’m in some armory on the other side of the hall 50 feet away. Are you alright Levi?”

The demon scrambled up the snake corpse to stand next to you and wrapped his arms tight around your being. “[Y/N]! I was so scared! I thought this Henry imposter got you, and you were dead, and I couldn’t think of anything!”

“I’m really ok Levi.” You assure him, as he wept into your shoulder. “Do you still want to see the real Henry? I think I spotted where he actually is when I was running back with the spear?” Levi nodded into your shoulder. Still not prepared to let you go.

Satan

Satan always tried to be a reasonable man.

He hated being referred to as ‘The Demon of Wrath’. It wasn’t his wrath that had caused him to be born. And he wasn’t any angrier than his brothers, so why did he have to be labeled the ‘bad seed’? So he always tried to be level headed. Calm. Patient. But there were somethings he just could not abide. Like the boorish behavior of someone talking loudly in the library.

“Excuse me,” the blonde said, attempting to remain calm, as he came over to the rude demon two tables over, “could you please keep it down? This is a library.”

“Yeah. I know what it is.” He quipped back rather snippily. “What are you? The librarian?”

“No. Just a fellow book lover.” Satan replied. Grinding his teeth now. “And one who can follow the rules and basic social decorum of keeping my conversations to myself in a place like this.”

“Are you calling me stupid?!”

“No. I’m calling you uncouth. A word meaning undignified, and without manners.”

“Why you!”

The demon rose to his feet, towering over Satan now that he was standing. Not that it mattered. Height was not an immediate representation of strength. Look at Belphie. His younger, shorter brother could level a whole city with a flick of his wrist. Satan could easily dispatch of his imbecile without even breaking a sweat.

He never got the chance though, as just after he stood the demon let out a grunt and slumped to the floor; with you standing behind him on his depleted chair with a book in your hand like you had just pulled it from The Stone. “Bet you’re glad I think Kindles are dumb now.”

Satan had to right himself on what he was seeing, and then frowned at you. “I never said that, and get down.” He insisted. Offering you his hand to get down. You hop down with ease and set your weapon book on the table. “Honestly, I could have handled him without resorting to violence or cheap theatrics.”

“Cheap?? This book was very expensive.” You insist, and Satan had to scoff.

“Be that as it may, please do not use books for more than their intended purpose. I appreciate the assist, but I can’t have you hurting yourself or fine literature in the future.”

“You’re such a buzz kill sometimes Satan…..”

Asmo

Asmo always loved going to the club. The dancing. The energy. The pulsing music. The people.

Well…usually the people. Some people, usually bro-dude demons, just couldn’t take a hint that ‘no’ meant ‘no’.

“Come on Asmo! Why are you being so stingy?!”

“I’m not being ‘stingy’,” Asmo replied with a frown marring his beautiful face. “I’m just not interested.”

“You were interested last time.” His pursuer replied. Like that somehow gave automatic permission that things would happen again.

“That was a long time ago.” The dusk haired blonde replied. Sipping his cocktail and looking thoughtful across the spacious VIP lounge over to you.

Yes, things had certainly changed. Once where it would take a whole room of people and attention to make him content, these days all he wanted was you. Just you sparing a moment to look at him made his heart feel incredibly full. He had come here to have a fun night out with you, but it seemed no matter where he went his beauty was always causing problems.

The lesser demon frowned, then looked towards the direction Asmo was looking to land on you. “Shoot, just bring them along with us.”

“Excuse me?” Asmo asked. Beautiful expression turning Ignatius as he sat down his drink.

“Bring them along. I’ve never had sex with a human. But there must be something to it if you’re willing to do them. Not that I suppose that takes much….”

At that, Asmo leapt from his chair and grabbing the brute by the collar. He wasn’t normally one for violence. He wasn’t like his dull brothers. But he couldn’t let a slight like that against you slide. “Take it back!”

The two demon’s scuffle. Clearing out the VIP lounge as everyone ran. Scared that they might transform at any moment and literally tear each other apart. Asmo somehow ended up on his back, a position that usually didn’t bother him, as the other reared back to punch him in the face.

Or, at least he would have if he didn’t start convulsing and fall on the ground a moment later.

“Asmo! Are you ok?!”

The Lust Demon looked at you for a moment. Then delicately covered his mouth with both hands. Returning to normal. “[Y/N]! You saved me!!”

“Yeah. This little thing packs a punch.” You replied. Holding out your little pink taser from She-Sword from your clutch. “I couldn’t let this jerk hurt your beautiful face.”

“No one is more beautiful than you my fierce warrior queen!” He praised. Basking in the moment for only a second before you both scamper off before security came.

You both might be beautiful, but you didn’t want to end up on the evening news.

Beel

“I want to take up kendo.” Beel announced to you one day. Out of the blue. “I’ve been looking for ways to add variety to my workout. I came across this video on kendo and thought it would be fun.”

Of course, Beel knew you had practiced kendo in the past at school. So he might have also been looking for fitness activities for you to do together. In any case, he really liked seeing you in your little workout outfit. It was super cute.

He also liked you showing him the basics of kendo; stance, footing, basic strike movement. When he felt he had gotten the hang of it, Beel jovially asked for a sparring match with you.

“I don’t know….”

“Come on [Y/N], sparring with someone is the best way to learn fighting.” He reasoned. “Besides, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about that….” He heard you mutter under your breath, but thought that he must have imagined it as you squared off.

Standing across from you in the arena, something changed. The hair on the back of Beel’s neck stood up. Not in the excited way that it normally did when he saw you. But something more….primal. His grip tightened a little more as he realized he might have to get a little serious with you.

It was all for nothing though as the match was over just as soon as it started.

The shinai went flying out of his hands, landing across the room just as Beel landed on his butt. His backside throbbing as his bell was rung clear as day. He rubbed his head as he looked up at you. “I may have forgotten to mention that I was three-time national kendo champ all through school.”

The demon looked up at you with a shiny, sparkly gaze only until now reserved for delicious food. “Teach me sensei!”

Belphie

He hated being out. He wanted to go home.

Being outside in the sun, with all these…..people was hell to him. Belphie would rather be home, in actual hell, with his blanket and pillow and quiet, rather than ‘top side’ with you for the whole afternoon. Not that it was you or anything. You were the only bright star on this miserable day. He’d be damned if he’d let one of his brothers spend the day with you when he could.

“Belphie, do you want an ice cream? Maybe that will help with the heat?”

He wanted to say that the only thing that would help him was getting the hell out of here. But, he bit his tongue. The demon knew how important this was to you to come ‘home’ now & then and he didn’t want to ruin it for you. So he just nodded and asked, “strawberry please.”

He sat in the shade as he watched you go over to the ice cream truck alone. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he was just a hopeless shut in. Like Levi, only worse. He just wanted humans so much that being around them was making him crankier than normal today.

“Geez, get a look at that side show over there.”

Belphie looked up from his daze at the human who was a few yards away from him. Snickering and staring with his friends in a voice that a regular human wouldn’t be able to hear. “If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck.” Again, he was very cranky.

The human was obviously taken aback at being heard and then called out like that. “What did you say to me?!” He yelled, once he got his bearings on the situation, and took a ‘threatening’ step forward to see if he would repeat it.

“I said ‘If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck’.” Of course he repeated it. “Don’t mutter something under your breath like a coward. Say it like a man, or keep your gross mouth shut.” This was why he hated humans. No spine.

Well, metaphorical spine. If he kept this up, Belphie was gonna prove that he had a spine when he ripped it out and made him wear it as a neck tie.

“You little fuck--!” Belphie, of course, didn’t move when he stomped closer. Not that he needed to, because he was stopped in his tracks rather abruptly when you stepped between then. Holding a knife from your pocket.

“I suggest you get out of here, before the only ‘side show’ around here is your knife swallowing act pal.” The man seemed to frozen for a moment as he tried to process if you were serious. Then his flight instincts kicked in and he took off running with his friends across the park. “Gosh, I think I’ve been spending to much time with you guys. I never would have done anything like this before.” You said after a sigh, then turned back to Belphie.

“My hero.” He cheered softly, in his typical tired voice but still with a soft smile. Seeming extremely proud of the bad influence he was on you.

#yourlocalsinnamonroll #;ask and ye shall receive (request answers) #obey me #obey me beelzebub #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphie #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me belpie x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x mc #obey me asmo x reader #obey me asmo #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me spoilers #obey me imagines #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #beel x reader #beelzebub x mc #imagine #scenarios

[wittyworm]

i dont know . i needed to write this all down i dont give a shit if its in order or if it makes sense or not. im not putting it under a cut

munchausen by proxy is such a painful and slow and cruel process to watch and there's absolutely nothing you can do when its too late. you just grow up and wonder, why why is she getting worse every single time you see her? she cant possibly have this many problems. we never once knew what she actually had. we would just wish, like, please stop taking pieces from her she cant fight you, you spend her whole life taking pieces from her and stripping her down until she cant see, out of one eye, then you take the next. cant walk, can barely speak. heart barely beats on its own, and then in the very end you wont let her go. you let her suffer and rot for 6 months in the hospital, we cant go fucking see her, i keep asking when can i see her. covid prevents more than 2 guests, the guests are her parents, who are. ultimately keeping her there. and we wait. we wait and wait and wait. she fights. because shes always been strong, shes always wanted a bigger life for herself. dreamed bigger than anyone ive ever met. theyd always say she had the mind of a child but if you had a conversation with her for more than 5 fucking minutes you know thats not true. what else could she do though, other than find happiness and comfort in small things like dolls and toys. shes surely the reason i as an adult , love things like that, because my big cousin who ive known my entire fucking life loved them, she treated each of them like the real babies shed always wanted to have, gave them names gave them stories that shed tell me.

shed scare us sometimes. she showed us horror movies when we were way too young, shed pull out her glass eye and yell "BOO!" at you

"WANNA SEE IT AGAIN WANNA SEE IT AGAIN" we always told her "NO!!!" but it was funny . that was Emmy

To say she loved David Hasselhoff. Is the biggest understatement of the century. dont get me started. she was obsessed. she was married to him in her head and would often get defensive if she thought we were trying to steal her man David 😤

it was odd but it was Emmy. we watched the original spongebob movie too many times to count, we knew every word. Baywatch, Nightrider, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, She always played his albums. swear to god she loved the guy so much i forget he isnt actually family. she had a massive 'sexy' print out of him on her wall 🤦‍♂️ god it was so funny we loved that thing. i could go on and on

she loved big gaudy rings and jewelry. the flashier the better. miss classic hollywood. we'd always look for them for her ,see something that looked cartoonishly grand and think "thats so emmy" wed get them if we could.

she had soo many collections. games, pogs, jewelry, david, babydolls, vhs tapes upon vhs tapes. a favorite pastime of mine was going through and organizing all of them for her . all of the David ones in their own special sections of course.

she was the funniest person youd ever meet. life of the party. always singing loud, making funny faces and sounds. telling hilarious stories. some made up some real.

she wanted to be a mom, she wanted to be a wife. but those things were impossible for her to achieve.

...

we saw her less and less as we got older.. i hate to think how sad it made her seeing us all grow up away from her. but she was always so happy to see us , tell us "you look so beautiful you look so big!" she was so so genuine about it she always made you feel good.

even when, she couldnt actually see you anymore

i want to jot down so many memories , theres so much more, i cant think super clearly right now.

she passed away 2 days ago

or maybe it was a day

i dont remember

heart failure/ brain failure

our other cousin/ uncle/ her brother also passed away less than a month ago. that was a shock. they told her... for some reason, she wasnt able to respond, though. im sure that still hurt..

she is a bright light that went out . in this stupid fucking world. it sucks

but i want to like . hopefully live life in a way she would have wanted . something shed be proud of i guess .

im glad they finally let her stop suffering. im glas shes not suffering anymore . shes free. she was 46 years old

Esmeralda Burgos, my light, my laughter, my cousin. you will be greatly missed for all of time to come. you absolute legend

Say hi to Manny, Nana, and Josie for me, and shine over us all

I love you

#i have so much more i could say #long post #death #im sorry #rest in peace

[jackson--t]

Hate me, adore me.

Part IV

Summary: Ivar is not good with children.

Words: 3.1 k

Warnings: smut, swear words, rude behaviour, a lot of fucks (really).

Tag buddys: @youbloodymadgenius @jadelynlace @punkrocknpearls @neverwantedagony​ @moonlightsspirit​

AO3? here.

Ivar liked many things.

He liked to watch his basketball games on TV, along with a cold beer. He loved Game of Thrones with ramen in his bed, all Sunday long when he wasn't on duty. He loved chocolate ice cream, preferably with lots of colorful sprinkles on top - and he loved good sex.

But on this day, Ivar felt reminded once again of all the things that annoyed him terribly and that drove the absolutely annoyed wrinkles on his forehead already at 7 a.m.; it wasn't just Heahmund's know-it-all attitude, once again, when he had forced Ivar to fasten his seat belt while driving; or the fact that he had once again wanted to forbid him to chew gum. Ivar had ironcladly defied the gum rule: because he needed it. He needed it bitterly so as not to get too upset and to keep his mouth closed as best he could, to have something to do so as not to let expletives hail. Because one of the causes of his bad mood was just waddling across the street at super low speed and was caustic and annoying: children.

Ivar had always successfully avoided having to escort the little buggers across the street in the morning until now - but thanks to Heahmund's terrific, terrible effort and his disgusting good nature as Mr. Jesus, he had been forced to ride with Heahmund to the nearest elementary school even before he was actually on duty, and to go on duty as a fucking friend and helper. His mood was in the basement, more than that.

He cast a scowl down at a small, blond girl who was staring at him with wide eyes; she had her mouth slightly open and was still staring at him when Ivar had turned away slightly. When he noticed, he looked at the girl again; the little girl blinked.

"Are you a policeman? You don't look very nice, do you?" the little girl squeaked, and Ivar rolled his eyes. He loved his job because of the guns, because of the violence, because of the "don't give a shit" attitude he could let out to some - but today was a shitty day. And those little green poison dwarfs didn't make it any better.

Ivar stared at the girl for a moment, then let out a deep and annoyed snort. "Nah, I'm a garbage man, you little devil. Move along before I eat you up."

The girl stopped for a moment in shock, and when Ivar took a faked step towards her, she shrieked and ran towards Heahmund, who was standing just a few feet away, directing the children across the street with a broad smile. Urgh, Mister Perfect. Again.

"Ivar!" echoed over to him, and Ivar chewed his gum in annoyance. He threw Heahmund a rough nod, while the older policeman eyed him indignantly.

"What are you doing? You're not supposed to scare the kids!" he said reprovingly, turning directly back to the little girl who Ivar had scared earlier with a smile.

Ivar wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He still couldn't decide what made him feel sicker to his stomach: those little buggers, or that the critters worshipped Heahmund so much it almost looked like a scene from the damn Bible.

It seemed worlds between today and yesterday; endless, endless days since he'd had sex with Heahmund, and for the first time experienced a different side of the cop than his haloed nerd side. Ivar bit his lower lip softly at the thought of their "slip" and stared at Heahmund; he hated to admit it, but that encounter had left its mark on Ivar.

Of course, he would never confess it in his life, not even under torture: but he had easily fallen for Heahmund - at least the part that had fucked him mercilessly yesterday. It had been that unbelievably good sex, that passion that had been there between them - and that sheer tension that had existed between them for ages. They were like fire and water, like night and day - but that's what made it exciting for Ivar. He had almost not been able to look at himself in the mirror the next morning, because he had actually jerked off to that memory twice the night after the "accident" - always that perfect body in front of his eyes, that smell that had been on Heahmund's skin, those damn arousing kisses that had given Ivar more than goosebumps.

And yet he hated him, in a way. The way he stood there, bringing those fucked-up kids across the street, with an angelic smile that sent sheer goosebumps of horror across Ivar's skin; he could hardly stand the way the little fuckers looked at the man like he was the next messiah, while they just eyed Ivar like something they were afraid of. Ivar just stared at a fat kid who was eyeing him particularly challengingly as he jutted his chin slightly.

"What do you want, pug face, huh?" he snarled, and it wasn't a second before Heahmund's voice thundered across the street.

"IVAR, damn it! It’s enough!" Oh, Ivar heard the anger from the raspy voice, that little thread of last, polite restraint guaranteed to snap in the patrol car. He looked at Heahmund, unimpressed, and raised an eyebrow; Heahmund's blue eyes had darkened.

"Would be nice if you didn't play godfather to the fucking lambs for once, so we can get out of here," Ivar retorted snottily, while Heahmund snorted.

"Okay, get in the car. And don't use those damn swear words! Kids, don't listen to him. They call him the Grinch at the station." Heahmund deaclred, amused, while he was immersed in soft children's laughter.

Ivar had had enough. He threw his stupid ladle against the sidewalk and lit a cigarette; he walked the few meters to the patrol car and casually leaned against the passenger side. His lungs were burning, so hard he pulled on the cigarette - but he didn't care. Let the fucking Heahmund shut his fucking mouth! Had he possibly imagined that there was more going on there? Had he possibly jerked off twice on him by mistake? Yes. But that was really just a slip. It could hardly be anything else, after all Ivar didn't go for men like Heahmund. Fuck it, whatever his stupid heart said.

It wasn't fifteen minutes before Heahmund appeared at the patrol car with a more than angry expression on his face; he stared at Ivar for a moment, then nodded roughly in the direction of the car. Ivar flicked his cigarette onto a patch of grass and got in; as they sat in the car, their eyes met. For a moment there was a tense silence, during which Ivar calmly chewed his gum so clearly that Heahmund could see it perfectly; only when he leaned back slightly did Heahmund's deep voice murmur at him.

"Did you just throw a lit cigarette on a lawn there?" he asked, and Ivar looked out the window for a moment. He snorted softly before turning to Heahmund again and putting on a soft, overly friendly smile that was hard to beat for sarcasm.

"I don't know, you should check it out. And maybe pick up trash on the side, and you're guaranteed to go to fucking heaven."

Heahmund's brow furrowed slightly; Ivar saw exactly how his hands curled into light fists, but he returned Heahmund's angry look with the still wide grin.

"Ivar, honestly, you're such a fucking asshole, you know that? I really want to punch you in the face right now. You do realize that throwing away burning cigarettes violates environmental regulations, and most importantly, endangers safety?" he hissed, and Ivar shrugged.

Heahmund looked at him for a moment, then actually got up and went outside to properly dispose of the cigarette. Ivar, meanwhile, stared out the window: he looked at Heahmund's butt, at the broad shoulders, at the handsome face that seemed to curse softly. "You fucking nerd, look at you.", Ivar muttered to himself, catching himself biting his lower lip lightly as Heahmund ran his hand through his black hair: one had to hand it to him, he was just damn good looking.

Ivar was still staring at him, too, when Heahmund sat down next to him again and let out a deep sigh; he leaned his head back for a moment, though Ivar was still looking at him. Something tingled inside him.

"You could... hmm... you could punish me really bad under Section 17b, don't you think? You fucking nerd.", Ivar hummed softly; as Heahmund's blue eyes locked on him, he grinned slightly. And his body was bathed in sheer goosebumps when Heahmund finally turned the ignition key and snorted softly. Ivar knew he was taking him up on his offer when they drove into an area where there were almost no buildings - except abandoned factories. It was almost too good, the tingle that shot through his bones when Heahmund finally parked; and before the older cop could open his mouth and lecture again about any regulations, Ivar's hands had cupped around his face and he was kissing the older man, who, underneath all the hatred and dislike, also inspired terrible and urgent lust in him.

He couldn't even last two minutes in his own seat and had quickly sat down wide-legged on Heahmund's lap. The older cop emitted a slight gasp, almost barely audible, as Ivar's hands dug through his clothes, fumbling with the belt of his pants.

"You're insatiable. And a monster.", Heahmund groaned out between two biting kisses; his hand had long since made its way to Ivar's bulletproof vest, undoing the Velcro and pushing the soft shirt up under Ivar's vest. Ivar loved those warm, rough hands on his torso, and he let Heahmund feel it clearly with a soft moan. His fingers ran desirously urging along Heahmund's zipper on his pants, feeling the thick bulge in them that he was particularly lusting after. Fuck, he was so fucking hot for this guy it was almost embarrassing.

"No foreplay, you greedy grinch? Fuck, Ivar... at least with a condom this time!", Heahmund murmured softly, even though Ivar's hands were already pushing and softly rushing into his pants. When he had the thick and already hard cock in his hand, Ivar exhaled for a moment; he closed his eyes and pressed himself against Heahmund's torso before hissing softly, "Tell me, are you somehow only getting horny when you have protection? You want to maybe leave that fucking vest on during sex too, nerd?"

As Ivar intensified his movements on Heahmund's cock, Heahmund's pelvis clearly moved upward; Ivar sensed him looking at him and opened his eyes.

"Would it turn you on?" Heahmund murmured breathlessly; Ivar opened his lips breathlessly, moving his warm hand tighter and tighter around Heahmund's cock. He loved how the trained cop grew harder and harder, how wet drops of pleasure appeared on his tip, which Ivar easily wiped away with a slight gasp and a nimble movement with his thumb; Heahmund moaned, but they were still looking at each other.

The corners of Ivar's mouth lifted slightly, then he grunted. "Fuck, yeah."

"I knew it. Harder." Heahmund moaned, pulling Ivar's neck closer, covering his neck with warm, smooth, slightly biting kisses as Ivar's hand continued steadily. His own erection was pressing like mad against his pants, and Ivar was so incredibly hot for Heahmund that he didn't take any time. After all, a damn stake could flutter in at any moment.

He unzipped his own pants to the slight groan of Heahmund, pulling them down somewhat awkwardly along with his boxers to the point where he could still practically sit well on top of Heahmund; his body was covered in goosebumps as he watched Heahmund spit into his own hand in one fluid motion, wetting his hard cock with it. Ivar grinned slightly; he wet two of his fingers before sliding them into his entrance with a slightly awkward motion, widening it slightly; the sound that came from Heahmund sent pure pleasure through his body. The two looked at each other.

"Fuck, Ivar. You're such a fucking beast, I swear I'll fuck the hell out of you already."

"Oh, come on - you're into it. You probably only had 0815 cunts that looked pretty but had nothing on them."

Ivar almost whimpered when Heahmund abruptly stopped him from his movements; his fingers slipped out and he was pulled onto Heahmund's lap with a firm and strong grip; he placed himself over Heahmund's cock, moaning slightly as he looked into the dark-haired man's eyes.

"Then let's see how good you can ride, gutter boy!" Heahmund groaned; Ivar's fingers clawed brutally at Heahmund's chin, holding it up as he gently lowered his pelvis and let Heahmund's hard cock slide carefully inside him; he did it deliberately slowly, letting that rock-hard muscle stretch him open gently, loving the way Heahmund's mouth opened slightly, the way his fingers clawed harder into the flesh of his hips.

"Fuck, Ivar!" he moaned darkly, and Ivar jerked his chin up again that had turned shallowly towards his chest - those blue eyes staring at him full of fire.

"Don't call me that! You fucking bastard." Ivar hissed; he whimpered softly as he felt himself sink to the base on Heahmund; they were both breathing heavily, and Ivar pulled Heahmund's face closer to him, pulling the older cop into a biting, hard kiss before slowly moving up and down.

Fuck, damn. It hadn't been enough that Heahmund had been an absolute grenade in bed the last time, no - his cock just seemed made for Ivar's core. It was perfect in thickness, and even more perfect in length, that it was already softly grazing the soft bundle of nerves inside Ivar with every deep movement Ivar made on it. Ivar swallowed audibly and clawed at the back of Heahmund's neck; he loved feeling the pressure of Heahmund's hands on his body, loved the fucking vest he was still wearing, which only further vocalized his fucking nerdiness, which seduced Ivar beyond belief. His movements became steadier, more violent, and he became more and more breathless.

Oh man, this was going to end in an orgasmic disaster. Heahmund was just too good.

They kissed breathlessly, and Heahmund's hands slid up to Ivar's waist; they closed warmly around the arches of his ribs, supporting him in the movements that were becoming more fluid and deeper, even as they took away Ivar's breath. His belly was pleasantly filled with warmth, so full of feeling.

"We can...fuck, Ivar!- ...we could maybe discuss the punishment thing over an evening...dinner. Fuck, you're killing me," Heahmund cursed, and Ivar threw his head back slightly.

He knew he wouldn't last long - but he would definitely not get ahead of Heahmund this time. He knew too many tricks in this position for that. He smiled softly as he let his entrance twitch slightly around the thick cock; it drove a moan from Heahmund's lips.

"Is that a fucking date, Heahmund?" Ivar exhaled, clawing harder at the base of Heahmund's black hair on the back of his neck. The older cop underneath him groaned, and his hands at his waist twitched. Ivar repeated the motions twice before Heahmund threw his head back slightly in his seat.

"Is...no, this is an...on-duty...fuck!... meeting”. Heahmund's voice grew harsher, thirstier, Ivar heard it clearly. It turned him on so much that he himself had to be beastly careful not to come right on top of that hard cock thrusting into his prostate at the perfect angle over and over again; but he was too proud. He held out for a little while longer. But the thought that Heahmund had just asked him for a private meeting chased even more lust into his body.

He was hot, so damn hot inside.

"Sure, you weirdo." Ivar hummed with pleasure, soaking in the taste of another kiss that Heahmund breathlessly gave him; his hands weren't letting go now, and the cop's pelvis thrusting from below was getting a little faster. When their lips parted, Heahmund opened his eyes slightly, seeking Ivar's gaze.

"Fuck, I think I..." he groaned, and Ivar moaned.

"You're coming, aren't you? Come on, you know I want you to...", Ivar breathed against those fucking delicious lips, stealing a breathless kiss before watching Heahmund's eyes close with a powerful wave of heat in his body.

"Fuck, I'm coming..." the cop moaned so harshly that Ivar moaned softly; he clawed at Heahmund's body as tightly as he could, wrapping his heated arms tightly around the body, almost amazed, manically turned on, at how quickly it made Heahmund come, that simple touch.

The man groaned a dark moan right at Ivar's sensitive collarbone, deep and rough as he came jerking inside Ivar. Ivar continued to ride him, riding him hard and demanding until he too felt the violent crashing peak of his orgasm: the wave of pleasure crashed over him so brutally that he had to stop his riding movements to avoid losing control completely. Just like the first time, this orgasm tore out something deep inside Ivar, gave him everything he needed, nourished him with so much love and lust that he almost choked on it.

The windows were fogged the hell up when Ivar broke away from Heahmund after what felt like an eternity; they were able to wipe away the mess they'd both made just fine, because of course the nerdy Heahmund had good tissues with him; Ivar grunted quietly and had to grin a little wryly when Heahmund had to spend a long time wiping at a stain on his black vest, with a quiet, annoyed snort.

"You can tell it's gravy," Ivar said, earning a nasty look from Heahmund after he luckily managed to remove the stain just fine; when Ivar was back in his seat and, to Heahmund's satisfaction, even buckled up for once, Heahmund looked over at him. The two looked at each other, and then Heahmund smiled slightly.

It was a beautiful smile, one that Ivar hadn't seen from him before, and one that made him feel sick in a different way than he did on the road today. As if suddenly, there was something in his belly that fluttered around like crazy and made him almost happy inside. Disgustingly happy.

"I was serious about the... dinner." Heahmund said; the blue eyes sparkled slightly, and Ivar grinned a little wider. He couldn't go soft now, no way - Heahmund couldn't score points everywhere with his nerdy, gentlemanly behavior, after all. "Maybe we'll get along better someday. Get to know each other better." the dark-haired man added, and Ivar turned his head slightly so that Heahmund wouldn't see him blush slightly on his cheeks. He popped a new piece of gum into his mouth and winked.

"Shut up and drive, you miserable nerd. You won't get the Nobel Peace Prize for polishing, too."

But his heart had already said yes, and he also knew, without looking over, that Heahmund knew, too.

#vikings #ff #fanfiction #cops #ivar the boneless #heahmund #heavar #ivar x heahmund

[moonknightly]

and you keep me holding on : santiago garcia x reader (nine)

Word Count: 2.3k+

Excerpt: “He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.”

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault, cursing, uhhh I think that’s it?

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

OCTOBER FIFTH — DAY TWO

Santi isn’t sure who calls her parents, but they’re in the waiting room the next morning and while he knows that they have every right to be there, he wishes that they would just go away. Her mother is already talking about taking her “home” the second she’s released from the hospital.

He doesn’t have the energy to fight with them yet, doesn’t know how to tell her grieving parents that her home is with him. She belongs with him, he’ll take care of her.

But then again, he’s already failed once.

Maybe she won’t feel safe with him anymore.

Maybe she won’t feel safe in the new apartment, she won’t recognize it. Sure, she’ll look around and see familiar furniture, some pictures and the duvet she’d picked out herself. Nevada. Maybe she’ll smell Santi’s cologne in the air or the stench from the cigarettes he smokes when things get just a little too hard, but it’ll all be in a space that’s entirely new.

Did he make the right decision? Should he have stayed at the last place?

No. No, he doesn’t think that would’ve been smart either.

Maybe she does need to go with her parents, back to the house she grew up in, where her room hasn’t been touched since she was in high school and everything is familiar.

But then she says his name in her sleep, and he knows that he’s not going to be able to let her go.

He knows he can take care of her. He’ll do it right this time, he’ll never let a damn thing happen to her ever again.

So Santi shuts it down the moment her mother brings it up again, and he’s surprised that her father actually sides with him on it. It doesn’t turn into an argument like he thought it would and he’s beyond thankful for that.

She stays asleep for most of the day, only waking up for a little while at a time, and when she does, she refuses to take her eyes off of Santi. It only serves as further confirmation that she needs him, he’s the right decision.

Jay offers to stay with them for a while, thinking maybe they’ll both feel better with another set of eyes, a little added protection, and at first Santi shakes his head — he feels guilty for some reason, he doesn’t know exactly why but he feels like it’s too much.

But then she has a nightmare, and he watches as Jay immediately reaches out and touches her cheeks to let her know she’s not alone, she’s safe and they’re right there. Santi’s positive that Jay has noticed that he hasn’t touched her yet, and he also knows that she probably needs someone who will be able to give her physical reassurance when she wants it.

So he caves, only if Jay will take his bed while he crashes on the couch and of course Jay says no.

But it’s not something they really have to worry or argue about right then.

She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

OCTOBER SIXTH — DAY THREE

Every single news channel has been covering her return just as much, if not more, as her disappearance. They’re still looking for Nathan, but Santi’s sure they’ll never find him. Not anytime soon, at least.

He didn’t know if he’d dumped her with the intention of her being found alive or dead, but either way he has to know she’s been found and that they’re looking for him again with the same amount of ferocity as they had been when she first went missing. He hates to think about that, how after just a few months everything just seemed to die down for everyone else but those in his little circle, and even then sometimes he felt like the only one who still cared.

Santi shakes his head and pushes those thoughts away.

Her. He just needs to focus on her.

They’d gotten her temperature up, and the cocktail of medicine they’d been pushing for the last three days seem to be doing their job. Her scans all came back clear, no damage to her heart or brain. All in all, she’s responding well to treatment.

She’s still confused though, still disorientated whenever she wakes up but the doctors assure Santi that it’s completely normal and to be expected. He’d asked them how long it would take for her to become lucid and coherent, and they hadn’t really been able to give him an answer.

Could be a few days, could be another week.

But it’s okay, she needs to rest. She needs to rest and Santi needs to get a fucking grip on himself so he can be there for her when she’s finally fully conscious again.

He thinks the nurses have started to notice that he’s keeping his distance, and that they’ve been setting him up to touch her in small ways that he can never really say no to.

“Can you fix her blanket for me?”

“Hold her hand up while I replace the bandage on her IV?”

“Help me slide her over?”

He always does what’s asked of him, but his fingers never linger and he’s managed to do it all without directly touching her skin so far. The sweatshirt she’s in is good for more than just keeping her warm.

But still, he doesn’t really count it as touching her. Direct contact with her body isn’t something he can even imagine right now because he still wants to cry every time he pulls away from her, and he’s only touching a fucking piece of clothing she’s wearing.

Santi needs to get his shit figured out.

It’s not fair to her, not in the least.

So at three in the morning, when he knows it’s going to be another hour before her morning labs are drawn, when he knows that there won’t be a single person in to bother them until then, he gets out of the chair he’s been living in and moves to sit on the end of her bed.

She stirs, and the panic in her eyes is immediate. Her fingers tighten around the blanket and she looks like she’s getting ready to scream or cry out.

He hates it. He hates causing it even though he knows that he’s not really the reason behind it.

He clears his throat and whispers her name, trying his best to keep his voice from wavering.

She blinks, his voice clearly registering in her head though she still looks confused and unsure, but the terror melts away. She knows this is someone safe, someone that she can trust and someone who isn’t going to hurt her. She’s safe.

“Stay.”

“I’m right here, baby.”

She shakes her head and closes her eyes again. “You always leave.”

He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.

It breaks his heart.

“You’re not dreaming sweetheart. You’re okay.”

She shakes her head again.

“I’m right here,” he repeats, taking a deep breath before he reaches his hand out, but he stops when he’s only an inch away.

There’s no heat radiating from her, and if he wasn’t standing there watching her breathe he’d be thinking the worst.

It finally hits Santi just how small and fragile she is.

And now he feels like if he touches her, he’ll break her.

He pulls his hand back.

He’ll try again tomorrow.

OCTOBER SEVENTH — DAY FOUR

It’s cold and dark and his voice is coming from all around her. He’s calling her name, threatening her with things that she tries so hard to block out but they still creep into her mind, filling her with even more panic and dread as she’s left to think about what he’s going to do to her once he finds her.

Nathan calls it “The Game”.

He gives her a thirty second head start, tells her to run as far and as fast as she can, and if she can get away, she’s free. She can go home.

But if he catches her, his twisted words become a reality. He’ll keep her chained up for a few days, or maybe it’s a couple weeks or even a month, she’s never really sure but then the cycle repeats.

And he always catches her, always. No matter how sure she is that she’s finally escaped, he’s always right there to pin her to the ground and have his way with her. He’s always there to crush her hope and what little faith she’s able to gain back in those brief moments of thinking she’s free.

She shakes her head, trying to clear her mind enough to focus. She needs to get moving.

She looks down to figure out which way she had come and there’s snow. She hates snow. She used to love it, back when her and Santi would go for walks around Christmas time, hot cocoa in hand with their arms linked together. She wonders if he’s put the tree up this year. She wonders if Christmas has already passed.

But per usual, that happy thought of Santiago is ripped away from her when she hears Nathan’s voice again, this time only closer. Her skin crawls.

She has to start running. She knows she’s not as fast as she used to be, she’s too weak, but she has to try.

God, she hates snow.

She never stands a chance. It’s always so easy for Nathan to follow her tracks, and it always feels like there are tiny little needles stabbing into her bare feet with each step she takes, but she doesn’t allow herself to feel it in the moment, no. She never thinks about the pain until The Game is over, because of course she’ll take that moment of pain in trade for freedom. She’ll take those pins in needles if it means she’s just one step closer to getting away.

She thinks she might have it this time. Nathan’s voice is far off again, and she can see something in the distance. A road, maybe.

Yes, a road. That was definitely a car zooming past.

She runs faster, that familiar hope blossoming in her chest. She’s so close, so so close. Just a few more yards-

But then there’s crushing weight on top of her, and rough hands grabbing at her hips and she doesn’t have to look to know who it is.

He found her, of course he found her.

She immediately starts to cry, kicking herself because she should have expected it, she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes so high. All Nathan does is laugh and pull her closer, and then she feels his hand move into her hair. He holds her head up so she can keep her eyes on the road while he gets himself ready to do what he always does.

She tries to just lay there, begging her mind to drift off towards Santi, towards her safe place. When she thinks about him instead of what’s happening, it’s not so bad. Santi makes it all better.

But then another car drives by, and then another, and another and she can’t focus on anything but the fact that she’d been so close. There were people right there, maybe close enough to hear her if she’s loud enough.

She screams.

She wakes up screaming.

She’s screaming and kicking and Santi’s immediately by her side, calling her name, begging her to look at him but she doesn’t hear a thing, doesn’t register it.

He calls out for a nurse, starting to panic, afraid that she’s hurt and in pain but then he hears his name leave her lips in a broken, mangled sob and he knows she must’ve been dreaming.

He wants to cry with her. He hates seeing her like this.

Two nurses rush into the room, trying to get her attention as well but to no avail. They’re asking her what hurts, what happened, but all she can do is thrash around and call out for Santi again.

Hearing her like that, it’s the final push he needs to finally reach out to her.

Santi takes her hand, kissing each of her knuckles once he feels like she’s not going to punch him while he whispers that it’s okay, he’s right here and he’s not leaving her. She’s not with Nathan, she’s not in danger. She’s okay.

She doesn’t calm down, not really, so beyond terrified that Santiago’s voice is nothing but a trick her mind is playing on her, that he is the dream, one her brain had created to block it all out.

He repeats his words a second time, moving one of his hands up to her cheek, and it seems to break her out of it just a little bit more. He brings the second one up so that he’s cupping her face, and he watches as she immediately melts into him.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, it’s okay. It’s me, Santi.”

She doesn’t open her eyes. He wishes she would, but he doesn’t expect her to, not really. She’s so tired and he’s sure crying has left her completely exhausted.

He knows he’s right when her breathing evens out again.

But he doesn’t let go. Now that he’s touched her, he doesn’t want to stop, even though he knows that once she’s coherent it’ll probably be the last thing she wants.

He’ll take it while he can get it though.

He holds her hand all night long.

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier

[sistervirtue]

okay so im seeing people get anons about this and its coming up in friend groups so i think now's actually a pretty good time to tackle the idea of religious (specifically cultic) abuse in media and how we as an audience interact with it

TLDR: dehumanization and sexualization of cult victims furthers the misunderstanding that cults "don't exist now", and RA survivors would feel much safer in fandom spaces if people acknowledged and analyzed the harmful portrayals of cults in media.

cw: discussions of cults, abuse, and sexual assault

also, if you have questions, please shoot me an ask or dm (off anon preferably, though)

let me start this with a disclaimer that i dont think every media that features ra is inherently bad. i think thats a bit harsh and as an ra survivor ive come to terms with the fact that there are going to be depictions of it in ways that maybe dont give it the respect it deserves, and trying to "what about [x]" everything will only lead people to talking in circles with themselves. what i want to address here is how you, as a consumer, respond to and parse out what cultic abuse means in any particular portrayal of it.

*also please don't harass people about their RAS status, like, if you see someone enjoying something with a less than stellar portrayal of cults, don't send them asks or dms like "well are YOU a cult survivor?" reducing the consumption of media to a yes or no game based on identity-- especially an identity that comes as the result of explicit pain and spiritual violation is not only derivative but also degrading to survivors and the people you're grilling. all we want is for people to think carefully about what they spread and portray, and how they think about those situations.

so, i think the first thing to tackle is...what is a cult? This is something that's surprisingly hard to define, especially in fictional settings with fictional cults. For example, (and pardon the use of this example, I don't feel like hunting for others), My Hero Academia has an organization in it that I would say fits the criteria for being a cult, but by and large isn't considered one by fans because it's not explicitly called a cult. (Although numerous cult jokes have been made about it). It also has an organization that IS explicitly referred to as a cult.

So, when you're dealing with how to process what is and is not a cult-- and how to make your presence safe for RA survivors, you have to be able to sift through more than just "did the narrative tell me this is a cult?"

There's a few different models people use; one of the most popular being the BITE model-- but I should clarify that the BITE model is really tailored towards religious and strictly hierarchal cults, but can be applied to other kinds of cults.

(and yes, there are cults other than religious/spiritual ones. corporate cults and wellness cults have been on the rise, and it's good to keep that in mind both when engaging with media and also in the real world.)

However, I'm a religious cult survivor, so a lot of my experience is strictly irt this, so please take what I say with a grain of salt, and know that I don't speak for every cult survivor, every religious cult survivor, or every religious abuse survivor. I am One Guy on the internet.

When it comes to media, I have a few questions I run through in order to figure out if something is A Cult.

1) Fringe Ideas. This one is one of those that most people know-- and often incorrectly use to attribute cult status to other things. However, it is worth mentioning, that you don't become a cult by following mainstream ideologies. BUT. BUT. not every group with weird ideas is a cult! Some groups are just weird and are fine being weird. It's a rectangles and squares situation. All cults have fringe ideas and behaviors, not all fringe ideas and behaviors belong to cults.

2) Hierarchies. Cults always have people in power, at least in my experience. There have been ideas thrown around about "completely decentralized cults"-- but to be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about that concept, and I don't know enough about it personally to say whether or not it's legitimate. If you have any sources, hmu.

BUT. Most cults have a power structure. You're going to have leaders, usually with a handful at the verrrrry tippy top, whose word is law. This can be associated with things like religious ideas (channelling god) or being "a genius", like in corporate cults.

3) Control. I cannot stress this enough; cults are all about control. How you think, feel, behave-- they discourage critical thought, encourage snitching on each other, buddy-group behavior; the BITE model explicitly lists these models of control.

4) Us V Them. Cults will give all those that oppose them or simply don't believe them a bad name. They're uneducated, they're evil-- it varies cult to cult, but you'll see them turning the non believers into a homogenous, frightening group. They want to discourage looking outwards, and they want to viciously isolate members.

Other things of note are extremism, talks of enlightenment, harsh punishments, the cult eating large portions of the member's finances, etc.

However, this post is largely to address FICTIONAL cults. and the unfortunate fact of the matter is that fictional cults are rarely fleshed out in a way that can be held one to one to a model, and, more often, don't even afford the victims of a cult humanity.

and this is one of THE biggest issues you find in cult portrayals. the leader is usually a charismatic, or perhaps menacing, figure, one that usually our protagonists-- who are rarely cult victims, they are typically outsiders (not inherently bad, mind you)-- faces personally, with the hoardes of mindless zombies forming one giant hurdle.

Naturally, this can be...hurtful. There's nuance to who is and is not a victim in a cult (although my rule of thumb is to look at what abuses that person specifically exerts over others-- and you can be both a victim and perpetrator of abuse. to treat them exclusively is lacking all nuance), but the people are the bottom, even if they joined willingly, are people who were preyed upon. Not only that, but many media cults forget that people can be born into cults, and never really had a choice to begin with. To treat these people like they are mindless-- or that they deserve the suffering they are in because they are there-- completely erases all nuance, humanity, and understanding to the cult survivior struggle. Not only that, but it continues to sensationalize and deify cult leaders, which is doing their job for them, really.

The second biggest issue is the romanticization and sexualization of cults, religious abuse, and cultic abuse.

(yes...this is a thing.)

The use of cults as a way to make a character edgy or tragic is one thing, but there's something sinister about using it to project a certain sexual behavior onto that character-- whether it be as the subjugator or subjugated. Sexual abuse is rampent in cults, and ritualistic sexual abuse is used to justify it. To sexualize the idea of a cult(ist) raping and abusing someone is...beyond offensive to anyone who has been in a cult where their sexual safety and autonomy has been compromised. Or, in some cases, the cultist is so naive and sheltered they can be easily coerced and taken advantage of due to their brainwashing.

This is...bad? This is bad. To ignore the fact that these depictions are just as harmful as any other romanticization of abuse is to ignore the real suffering of cult victims.

Really, the larger problem is that people don't really think cults exist, not really. They're all things of the past, or things that exist solely in fiction-- when in reality, every day cults form and continue to grow. If you've ever met a mormon, you've met a cultist. The moment you begin to process and parce the fact that this isn't as bizarre and unusual and fictional as it seems, you take the steps to respecting people who have been in that situation and become better at detecting cults, cult recruitment, and are able to more clearly assess what you take in.

Once again, there's so many bad portrayal of cults that it would be...stupid to call for an immediate disowning of anything with it in it. I personally have come to terms with the idea that I will have gripes about these portrayals in most cases, but rarely do I see people other than fellow RA or cult survivors discussing these portrayals. I'm hoping people can become more aware and willing to discuss cults in a serious and analytical context and criticize how they're portrayed in the things they love.

And once again, cult survivors are NOT a monolith. If a cult survivor expresses they are uncomfortable with something I said here that I'm not, or vice versa, listen to the people who actively surround you and whom you care about.

#nyc knacks #cults #ive been sitting on this for a while but it came up on the dash and i took the opportunity to talk abt it #bc i feel very passionately abt it #ok 2 rb

[wedreamedlove]

[FIC] Dandelion

Rating: G Characters: Li Zeyan/Reader Word Count: 1589

Prompt: Hi! I really like your writing 🥺! Thank you for your hard work❤️❤️! If you don't mind can I request a headcanon about Victor when MC is hospitalized because she is fainted due to her overwork, and when she gain her consciousness she try to leave the hospital because she is worried about the important filming at her office, but Victor chase her and make her back to hospital's bed? I will really happy if you grant my request 🥰🥰

A/N: Thank you for your kind words! I ended up writing this in my usual 2nd person perspective but the experiences are of the MC in the game. If that bothers anyone, oops, you can re-imagine this to be written in 3rd person perspective.

Something like fuzz encroaches at the edges of your vision and your head feels like it's filled with cotton. None of these are good signs and, to be honest, you know you're at your limit after working 60 hours for the past three days.

You're able to get away with this—as well as the enormous pile of energy drinks on your desk—only because Anna is away on a business trip for another project, meaning no one else in the company dares to make you take a break. Oh, there are people who make gentle suggestions to rest but none of them can budge your determination to perfect this important contract you had accepted. Last minute changes had been added to the outline and so, to ensure everything is still on schedule, you have to pull this insane work schedule.

But you can see the light at the end of the tunnel. You just have to finish looking through the last 20 pages of this document in front of you.

You rub your forehead to stave off the building tension in your head and reach out with your other hand for a drink. However, your hand only bumps into empty cans around you and you grimace as you realize you have to make another run to the nearby convenience store to buy more drinks.

When you stand up to do just that, extreme vertigo assaults you and your last thought before your vision goes black is 'Oh... this isn't good.'

#

You wake up to an extremely white ceiling.

It's pure white.

It's so white that, for a second, you morbidly wonder if you really overdid it this time. But then the rest of your senses make themselves known and you smell the antiseptic scent of a hospital, you feel the crisp sheets below your hands, and you think you hear someone breathing.

You turn your head to the side and your gaze collides into eyes the color of steel. It's Li Zeyan, and with an incredible scowl no less.

"You're awake."

You struggle to sit up and swing your legs to the side of the bed, but he places a large hand on your thigh immediately, obstructing your movement and pressing you down.

"What do you think you're doing?" Li Zeyan's voice is clipped. Uh oh, someone isn't happy.

"I have to get back to the company."

He gives you an incredulous look. "Do you realize what state you're in?"

His words make you notice you're in a hospital gown and there is an IV drip attached to you. You wince slightly at the sight of the needle in the back of your hand but another thought soon takes over your mind.

"Wait, how long have I been here? Did I miss the deadline?" Your voice rises in desperation and there's a suffocating weight on your chest when you think about how all your earlier work might amount to nothing.

"Idiot, how are you still thinking about work? You truly don't understand your condition. You hadn't had any proper sleep or food and the amount of energy drinks you were drinking was dangerous. Even though you're still young, if you continue like that you could do irreparable damage to your body. You—" He cuts himself off and his eyes widen. "Are you... crying?"

You reflexively reach up to touch your cheek and your fingertips come back wet. You blink and Li Zeyan's figure goes blurry as more tears well up in your eyes.

"Sorry, it's just a physical reaction. Don't mind me. You can keep lecturing. I'm listening," you choke out through a tight throat. Frustration, embarrassment, and mortification strangles you.

You roughly wipe at the tears, wanting them to stop right now before you see the exasperation in Li Zeyan's eyes. Intellectually, you know he's right and you don't want it to look like you're crying to get him to go easy on you. There have been many times where you feel childish and inadequate compared to him and so you don't need to come off even more as a baby throwing a tantrum.

But the tears just won't stop. Your shoulders shake with the effort you use to suppress your sobs.

A hand holding a tissue box appears in your lap.

"Cry it out."

You shake your head like a rattle drum.

"... What haven't I seen?" Li Zeyan's voice is low and even, and it's when he places a hand on your head that your last resistance crumbles.

You hunch over, automatically trying to stifle your gasps, but you end up crying your eyes out anyway.

You cry, and cry, and cry. You cry about the pressure of the deadline. You cry about the fear of not being able to make it. You cry about the anxiety and worry over whether you're doing enough or whether you're good enough. You cry at how hard it is to be be a successful adult.

The entire time you can feel the soft pressure of Li Zeyan stroking your hair.

Eventually, you calm down enough to start pulling wads of tissue out of the box to wipe your eyes and blow your nose as the last of your tears trickle to a stop. All your emotions feel raw and sensitive, but you have to admit you feel a lot better.

Li Zeyan takes your dirty tissues before you can say anything and tosses them into the wastebasket below the bed. Then he levels an unreadable gaze on you and, just as you're about to squirm and open your mouth, he speaks first.

"Why are you working so hard?"

"Huh?"

"No one pushes themselves like this unless there's something very important they're trying to achieve. So, what is it for you?"

"... You're going to think I'm dumb."

He stares at you flatly and you can see that he's clearly thinking it's a bit too late for that.

You look down at the hospital sheets and pick at a loose thread. "I want to catch up to you."

"Idiot." He actually scoffs out loud but continues before you can decide how to react to that, leaning back in his chair. "Do you know why I created Huarui?"

You blink, caught off guard. You know it isn't a family business and that he started the company when he was in his final years of university. But did he ever say why he created it? Because he could? Li Zeyan standing at the top of the world seems as natural as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west, so you never questioned it.

He sees your confusion and explains, "I was looking for the girl who saved me when I was a child. I searched for her for 11 years."

Your childhood memories are still vague but you do remember the more recent memory of the film set where you and Li Zeyan had been tricked and how you jumped in front of Li Zeyan to shield him. You can almost feel the ache and burn of the lightning strike again if you think hard enough.

Li Zeyan continues to look at you, his eyes calm without any ripples. "I built Huarui and made it rise to the top because I thought that, if I stood in the highest place I could think of, then she would have an easier time finding me. Of course, the position itself also allowed me to increase the extent of my search for her."

"In the end, I did find you."

A wry smile flashes across his face, so quick you doubt your eyes. "Yes, you found me first, and so my choice wasn't the wrong one."

You know he's trying to tell you something but, try as you might, you can't figure out how the current conversation connects back to the previous one. As the silence grows, you see exasperation appear in Li Zeyan's eyes before he sighs lightly.

"Now, after all these years and efforts, do you think I would walk away? You only need to reach out and I'm right here, waiting for you."

His words crash into you, bringing with them a sudden epiphany and new perspective. You reach out without a thought, as if to touch him and make sure he really is there, but then you realize how silly that looks. Before your hand can drop though, he covers the remaining distance and grabs your hand, wrapping your entire hand within his and entwining your fingers together. The familiar warmth and steady strength makes your eyes sting again and you drop your gaze to your interlinked hands, not wanting him to see you cry again.

You finally realize you've been mistaken all this time. You were being crushed by your own expectations and desires to stand beside him. In your head, you imagined him to be walking ahead of you, his back growing smaller and smaller. But that isn't true at all. Yes, he stands in front of you, but he isn't moving. Instead, his body is turned to yours and he's holding a hand out towards you, waiting for you to take a step. If you fall, he will catch you. If you take a firm step and grasp his hand, he will take another step forward and wait for you there.

"I'm not going anywhere." The words were low and solemn.

"Mm."

Against all odds, you both found each other again and so there is no way either of you will leave the other.

#love and producer #mr love queen's choice #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc