#he gives asthma a good name

[dem-obscure-imagines]

For the Longest Time

Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: In 1943, Steve was visited by his soulmate, a girl from the future who already knew him. Decades later, after waking up in a brave new world, Steve meets his soulmate again, except she hasn’t met him yet. And she won’t travel to 1943—or know he’s her soulmate—for another year.

Note: This is a continuation/prequel/whatever you wanna call it to A Long, Long Time, a Steve Soulmate AU I wrote a while back. Long story short, I watched Knives Out again and got Steve Rogers brainrot. Happens to the best of us. I might write a third part if there’s interest…

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Word Count: 2.2k

Reader Is: Steve’s Soulmate, Super-Powered, Female

Steve remembered the day you’d met—for the second time, though he didn’t realize that right away—like it was tattooed on his brain. It was a few years after he’d come out of the ice and he had taken Tony’s advice to get out more, which had led him to the mall.

By some stroke of fate, it happened to be the day a pyromaniac with a flamethrower was there, but before he could even spring into action, you did, hands out in front of you and what seemed to be an invisible shield poised there, redirecting the flames and protecting the teenage movie theater employee that had nearly been caught in the crossfire.

A quick flick of your wrist knocked the attacker’s gun out of his hands, giving Steve the opportunity to step in and apprehend the guy.

You sat on a bench after, breathing heavy, a cut on your forehead from the shattered glass of the skylight. The paramedics were taking care of the civilians, and Steve wandered right over, impressed.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad everyone is okay.” You told him, meeting his eyes.

He finally got a good look at you and froze, looking bewildered. A deer in headlights. “You’re…”

It was you. Of course it was you. Since the moment he’d been unfrozen, he’d been looking for you. His soulmate. The girl from the future that popped in on his twenty-fifth birthday, turned his whole life on its head, and then left without warning, hours after their first kiss. Back when he was five-foot-nothing with asthma and more medical conditions than he could even remember.

Back before he was anything.

And you’d loved him anyway. You’d given him the day of a lifetime and hope for not only a future, but for love. That someone could love him for him despite it all.

“I know.” You knew? “I…I don’t know what it is or…why I can do it.”

Your powers, you meant. You thought he was talking about your powers and not your name, which was burning a hole into his wrist beneath the thick leather band keeping it hidden.

“Right. Well, it’s…” He sighed, gathering his words, hiding the elation and pain behind a warm smile. “It’s a good thing you were here. I don’t have my shield on me.”

“Mine is built in.” You chuckled.

“You, uh…have a cut. On your forehead.”

“Oh, do I?” You reached up and found it with your fingers and they came away a bit bloody. “Shit.”

“Come on.” He offered you his hand and you took it, letting him lead you over to the counter of the theater. “Hi, do you have a first aid kit?”

“Yeah, of course.” The girl at the counter said, rushing to grab it.

Steve patched you up with gentle hands, off in a corner on your own. Staring up at him, you finally realized the obvious. This was Captain America. And he was using a careful finger to spread a triple antibiotic ointment on your cut.

Play it cool, (Y/N).

“Do you do this often? The hero thing?” Steve asked.

“No.” You shrugged. “Haven’t had much opportunity thankfully. I mean…I’d like to, I just didn’t know how to…get into it, I guess. Any email I sent to Stark or S.H.I.E.L.D. or whatever would end up on a slush pile.”

“Well, I’ve got some connections. If you’re seriously considering it. I can’t say I recommend it, but…Obviously you’ve got that protective instinct and you seem to work well under pressure.”

“My heart is about to leap out of my chest.” You admitted, laughing as he carefully laid a Bandaid over the cut, closing the kit.

“That makes two of us.”

“But, yeah, if you think I’m really cut out for it…I’d love to help.”

***

It was those words that sealed your fate. Three days later, someone from Stark Industries got in contact with you and before you knew it, you were on a plane to the Avengers’ remote facility in Upstate New York with a bag full of clothes, a handful of books, and a dream. You met the others, Wanda, Natasha, Bruce. Eventually Bucky came into the mix, too, Steve’s friend from before the ice who…had a staring problem, you were pretty sure. He kept looking at you, seemingly bewildered you were there.

You never did figure out why.

After a particularly tricky mission in rural Kentucky, you had landed yourself in the infirmary, taking a pretty long nap complete with an IV and a heartrate monitor.

It was Nat that found Steve in there, wringing his hands, tears in his eyes. It was the one secret he still had: you were his soulmate and wouldn’t know it for another six months. Your name had been etched onto his wrist for seventy years, through the transformation, through the ice, through everything.

“She’s gonna be okay, Steve. Bruce thinks she might wake up soon.” Nat comforted, sitting in the chair next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, confused by her friend’s sudden mood.

“I know, I just…” He shook his head. “I’m worried about her is all.”

Nat pressed her lips together, tilting her head. “This seems like a little more than that. You wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

That was her super power, he remembered. She was a human lie detector.

“I can, just…not here.” Steve nodded, leading her out of the room, out of your earshot, but still in sight thanks to the soundproof windows.

Nat’s hands settled on her hips, waiting for an answer. Instead, Steve took the cuff off of his wrist and held it out to her, letting her read the letters that had been etched there for the better part of a century.

Her jaw dropped. She stammered, arms crossing. She met his eyes and when she saw the sadness there, the guilt and longing, her expression softened.

“I should have told her. A long time ago, I should have told her but I can’t. In six months, on her twenty-fifth, she’s going back in time to 1943 to meet me on mine. And it…didn’t seem like she knew until she was already there.”

“So you’ve just been holding it in this whole time?” Natasha asked. “You’ve been in love with her…”

“Since the forties, yeah.” Steve nodded. “My great lost love, as Tony likes to call her when he rags on the band I wear.”

“Does he know?”

“No. Just you. And Bucky.” Steve amended. “He was there when she…”

“Right. Weird.” Natasha let out a long sigh, looking through the window. “Well do you need any help with that? I can get some information out of her. I’ll be super subtle, I promise.”

“I don’t know. She probably thinks my soulmate is dead, too.”

“Ironic.”

“No kidding.” Steve sighed. “Well, I guess if she says anything, let me know. It’s kind of a relief someone else knows.”

“We’ll get you through it, Steve. Six more months. That’s nothing.”

“Yeah.” Steve gazed longingly through the window. “I’m gonna sit with her for a while. I don’t want her to wake up alone.”

He slinked back into the infirmary and sat in the chair beside your bed, watching your steady breaths and listening to the beeping of the heart monitor. Natasha watched him through the window, heart strings pulled as tight as they’d ever been. Her best friend was in love and there was almost nothing he could do about it.

***

Three months later, you, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Nat got snowed in on a mission in Alaska. The little cabin you’d been sent to was unreachable by any of the jets the team could send and besides, it wasn’t worth the risk of Clint or someone getting stuck out there in this.

But despite the fireplace raging with fresh-chopped wood, you were still shivering, all wrapped up for the night.

Steve watched you, forlorn. Natasha nudged him, motioning towards you. He chuckled and shook his head. He couldn’t. Right? What, take advantage of you in your vulnerable state.

Bucky seemed to agree with Nat, grinning into his mug of coffee, giving him some caffeine for his night watch.

Steve got up off of his seat, walked towards the fireplace and adjusted the logs, adding another small one for good measure. He looked back at the others, who were aggressively encouraging him to go over to you, and gave in.

He knelt down in front of you, clearing his throat, which caused you to jolt awake.

“Is everything okay? Are we under attack?”

Steve chuckled. “No, uh, we’re all good. Are you cold?”

“Kind of, yeah.” You admitted. “I’ll be okay, though, I promise.”

“Do you…want some company?” He asked, unsure of how to word it. “I…run warm.”

“Do you mind?” You asked, sitting up a little.

His heart raced. This was going better than he thought. “Here, um…” He raised the blanket on top of you and wiggled in underneath you, letting you lead as the two of you settled.

“God, you do run warm.” You hummed, all but collapsing against him, a hand flat against his chest while you adjusted.

“I didn’t always.” He said, voice sincere. “Buck and I used to have to share a bed in the winter. It was brutal.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Yeah, he snores.” Steve joked, earning a laugh.

“Oh I know. I can hear him three doors down back at home.”

“And I can hear you from the other room!” Bucky called, sending you and Steve into a fit of giggles, like kids at a sleepover. “It’s a small cabin.”

You heard him and Sam devolve into a bickering match about the truth of whether or not Bucky actually snored that loud.

You looked up at Steve, asking “is it okay if I put my arm here?” while carefully draping an arm across him.

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, leaning against the pillows and pulling the blanket up around your shoulders.

You rested your head on his firm chest, listening to the way his heart was racing. Cute.

The drowsiness took over almost immediately, his warmth lulling you to sleep after a long day undercover out in the snow. You were asleep in minutes, breaths slow and long and even.

But once he was absolutely sure you were out, Steve pressed the gentlest kiss to your forehead, grateful beyond words to have you in his arms again.

***

“You thought today was her birthday???” Natasha asked, incredulous in the kitchen.

“I got nervous!” Steve defended. “I saw it on her whiteboard in front of her door and I thought—”

“I think Scott wrote that the last time he was here. He keeps track of all of that.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” Steve replied, shaking his head. “Well, does she have any birthday plans?”

“Yeah, Wanda and I are taking her out shopping this afternoon. Tony gave her his card. And then the party tomorrow night.”

Steve nodded. “Okay, good. That buys me some time.”

“You got a plan?”

“I’ve had a plan.” Steve admitted. “Been sitting on it for about seventy years, in fact.”

***

You got out of bed, got dressed, and headed to the mall with Natasha and Wanda. The same mall, in fact, that you and Steve had met in the first place.

“Where was it?” Wanda asked, wearing a very fashionable pair of shades.

“Right over there.” You pointed to the spot in front of the movie theater, up on the second floor of the mall. “Guy with a flamethrower and a dream. He’s in jail now.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get when you dream of arson.” Nat said, causing you and Wanda to laugh.

You shopped around for clothes, got some pretzels at the Wetzels, and window shopped. You already had what you were pretty sure you were going to wear the following night. It wasn’t every day one of the Avengers turned twenty five and met their soulmate. Tony was determined to make it a spectacle. He had a habit of doing that, it seemed.

In the food court, you seemed kind of down, chin resting against your fist. Wanda picked up on it first.

“It will all be okay, (Y/N). There is nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, I know, I just…I don’t know. I’m stressed about it. Tomorrow I get the answer to the question I’ve been asking for twenty-five years. I just can’t believe it’s almost here. And…I don’t know, there’s just a lot of variables. What if they don’t like me?”

“Come on, (Y/N), what’s not to like?” Natasha said, digging her spoon into her blizzard from the Dairy Queen.

“I don’t know…It’s just a lot to think about.” You said, leaving it at that. You didn’t know how to begin to explain to them that you had feelings for someone already, one of your coworkers no less, and someone who already had a soulmate, despite the fact that he’d lost her nearly a century before.

You wondered why Steve never looked for her. Or maybe she’d passed before he even resurfaced. It was sad. A guy like that didn’t deserve the heartbreak. He deserved to be loved.

The three of you finished your shopping trip and then returned to the Facility, where you unpacked the new odds and ends you’d acquired. Steve checked on you again, offering you words of wisdom, a comforting hug. He promised that your soulmate would love you, whoever they were.

Little did you know, he already did.

#steve rogers #steve rogers soulmate au #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #the avengers #marvel #captain america x reader

[raphael-angele]

How I imagine Bianca if she lived:

One name: Bernadette Rostenkowksi Wolowitz

During Capture the Flag:

Bianca, yelling at Percy as they run: Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!

Percy: *panting*

Bianca: How am I faster than you?! I'm carrying more equipment and I stopped to tie my shoes!

Percy: I have asthma...BACK OFF!

---

Coming back from the Titan's Curse Mission:

Nico: Bia! *runs to her and hugs her*

Bianca: *hugs him back* Hey. *pulls away and looks at him* How was camp?

Nico: It was awesome! We did wood carving, and made smores, and I learned how to make a fire, Travis and Conner even let me join Capture the Flag

Bianca, who made them promise not to let Nico join CtF until he's trained and claimed:

Nico: :)

Bianca: That's nice. Why don't you go back to the Cabin and we'll talk about the mission.

Nico: Mkay :)

Bianca, walking up to Travis and Conner: You better explain to me why you chose to ignore my instructions about my little brother joining that game, cuz one way or another, I'm gonna leave grieving for a friend.

---

Leo, opening the door:

Bianca: You son of a bitch. What did you tell Nico?! Did you tell him that there's something going on between us because he thinks there is and he is completely freaking out!

Leo:

Leo: Please, come in.

Bianca: What in Hades is wrong with you?! Leo, my position as a Hunter could be compromised! I could get into a lot of trouble!

Leo: Wha- I didn't say that there was something going on between us. I said that you were always so nice to me, it would be nice to be with someone like you.

Bianca: I'M NICE TO EVERYONE!

Leo: I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it that way

Bianca: Damn right you are. You tell my little brother that there is nothing, never has been, and never will be anything between us.

Leo: I will...hey, Bianca?

Bianca: What?!

Leo: You think I have a shot with Thalia?

Bianca: Of course, you do! You're a sweetheart! Any girl would be lucky to have you! *leaves and slams the door*

---

After Leo "died":

Percy and Jason fighting:

Jason: For the last time, I didn't mean to!

Percy: Oh, you didn't mean to? I'll show you what-

Bianca: HEY! Percy, Jason, other room, right now!

*other room*

Bianca: I don't know what you think you're doing but this is a very difficult time for the lot of us. We're doing this in honor of Leo and you're just gonna fight all night like a couple of children? What ever it is you're fighting about, put it aside, go back in there, and be a good friend or there's no dessert for either of you!

*main room*

Nico:

Hazel:

Frank:

Piper:

Thalia:

Reyna:

Bianca: Look at me when I'm talking to you-

Hazel, whispering to Nico: You ever notice how Bianca sounds just like dad?

Nico: ...nope

---

Hazel: Bianca, you've been to Olympus, right? On your first mission? What did it look like?

Bianca: Oh, it was beautiful. I looked down and it like it was like looking at a whole different world...if I could, I would've wiped it all out with my thimb like a God.

Hazel:

---

One summer: Hazel, Annabeth and Bianca decide to go to Disney World

Annabeth: Okay, so there's this place on Disney World where you pick your princess, they give you the hair, the makeup, the works. Haven't tried it before but I guess it would be fun to be Belle

Hazel: Oh, I wanna be Belle, too

Bianca: We can't all be Belle.

Annabeth: Alright then, how do we decide?

Bianca: Simple. This was my idea, I'm paying for it, I'm Belle. You bitches got a problem with that, we can go back to Camp right now.

---

Bianca: When was the last time you got any sleep?

Nico, figuring out a procephy: I don't know, two-three days? Not important. I don't need sleep. I need answers. I need to determine where in this SWAMP of unbalanced forces squatteth the toad of truth.

Hazel: Toad of truth? Is that a Greek thing?

Will: No, that's a sleep deprived thing.

Bianca: Okay, Nico. What happens to our brains if we don't get enough sleep?

Nico: They lose their ability to function and be rational?

Bianca: Exactly. So go march in there, go take a shower and get some sleep.

Nico: But I don't wanna go to sleep!

Bianca: I'm gonna count to three. One-

Nico: *sneers* Alright. *goes*

Will:

Hazel:

Will: Please teach me how you did that

Bianca: I raised him. I know how to get him to eat his vegetables, too.

---BONUS---

Taking Bianca to the drop off where she'll meet with the other hunters:

Bianca: Thank you for coming along to see me off, William

Will: Of course. Just wanna make sure you get there safe

Nico: Yeah, you'll get plenty of time looking for a new boy toy.

Bianca: Hey. I will not have you disrespecting me

Nico: Yes, ma'am

Will:

Will: Nico, you have a very attractive sister. You need to get used to the fact that even though she's vowed not to be in a relationship, she'll have plenty of suitors who would want to have her as their partner.

Nico: And you need to mind your own business

Will: Wha- I will not have you disrespecting me

Nico: You don't tell me what to do

Bianca: Don't you go disrespecting him

Nico: Yes, ma'am.

Bianca, to Will: You'll get there, you just gotta put some zing on it.

#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #bianca di angelo #nico di angelo #incorrect quotes #percy jackson #thalia grace #hazel levesque #leo valdez #will solace #solangelo #tbbt #source: the big bang theory #the big bang theory #source: tbbt #bernadette rostenkowski

[polyklok]

How Dethklok shows their love to you

Nathan Explosion

We all know about Nathan’s tendency to hyper focus on his current interest; mans got strong feeling and he wants to let everyone know just how happy you make him. So he shows you off, every chance he gets. Especially to the paparazzi. Once he’s settled into the relationship, he’s getting all cuddly and smiley in front of the cameras, quite rare for the media to see. He calls his parents nearly every week just to brag about you, it’s so sweet.

Motherfucking Nathan Explosion. One of the biggest names in the world, certainly the biggest in music and entertainment. A man who handcrafted a revolution of lyrics and rhythm. A man the world worships and the population craves. And yet, when he’s real smitten for someone, it’s awfully easy to make him shy. Just small, flirty things will get his face beet red and stuttering over his words in an instant, so incredibly enamored with everything you do. Whisper some sweet-nothings to him and he’ll become putty in your hands.

Nathan is very…specific when it comes to most aspects in life. He’s picky and stubborn and usually has his mind set for any decisions. But, you, as his S/O, own his utmost trust. So, before the final choice is made, he makes sure to get your opinion on it. Whether it’s small things or large decisions, he wants to hear what you think and will definitely take it into consideration. You have the ability to loosen him up on some settlements, much to Charles’ thanks.

Okay, the end of season 4 was an exaggeration, but Nathan does have a difficult time admitting when he’s wrong. Apologizing just really pokes at his large yet fragile ego. But, when he finally gets rid of some pride and realizes he fucked up with you, he’ll make the effort to apologize. Even if it’s not directly, you’ll get little gifts and gestures that lets you know that he really is sorry.

Pickles The Drummer

This one’s kinda silly, but here me out; Growing up, all of Pickle’s possessions were either hand-me-downs, stolen by Seth, or taken away as punishment from his parents. He didn’t get many stuff that was his. So, as an adult who could have all the material possessions he wants, he’s become a bit greedy. Until pretty lil you came up and stole his heart from him. At that point, he’s practically forcing himself to share everything with you. Food, clothes, anything. Something about seeing you with his stuff makes him feel really good inside.

Worries about you. Hoo-boy, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s got total mom brain when it comes to anxiety. Anytime you’re five minutes late or slightly more quiet than usual, he’s darting around, thinking that he somehow messed up and you hate him and now he’s gotta fix it. Please reassure him, he’s gonna give himself an asthma attack.

Pickles, uh, doesn’t have the best memory. Probably from the constant abuse of drugs and alcohol. I don’t think the dude knows anything that happened to him from age 20 to 25. But, he wants to make the effort. So, he’ll remember the little things about you, basic likes and dislikes, something you said, etc. When he acts upon it, like buying some of your favorite food, and you get all happy about it, he’s so proud of himself. He loves making you happy.

“Punch first, ask later. Or don’t ask at all.”That’s how he lives a whole lot of his life, especially in bars or parties. MF got some agitation issues. But when you get involved? Someone looks at you even slightly wrong? They’re getting their asses beat, he’ll defend the shit out of you.

In addition to that^…He’s definitely used to getting a ton of shit from his family and he just takes it. Because they don’t really like Pickles, there’s a good chance Seth and his parents will hate you and they’ll let you know it. This is when he cracks down. He yells at them for several minutes about what a wonderful person you are, what shitty people they are, and that they can talk about him all they want but not you. Definitely scares them straight.

Toki Wartooth

Oh, man does Toki love to spoil you! The way your face lights up when he manages to get you another perfect (and expensive) gift makes his heart flutter. He’s very good at it to; buying you things you didn’t even know you wanted but always cherish. He especially likes to get you custom-made stuff, something very cheesy.

He has a bit of a hyperactive mind, without something specific to focus on, he’ll constantly be bouncing around. But, despite this, he absolutely loves to listen to you in a way he can’t with other people. While he’s putting together a model or coloring or maybe practicing guitar (once in a blue moon), he likes to have you there, just ranting while he nods along. Even if he doesn’t get all the details, the sound of your voice is enough for him.

When you’re around him, he’s pretty much always going to be touching you. Sometimes it’s small things, like holding hands, knees together under a table, occasional cheek kisses. Other times, he’s practically hanging onto you like a sloth. Additionally, he absolutely loves to scoop you up at random moments and just hold you for a while. He’s strong, he can handle it.

It’s very clear that Toki is a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to love. Even if it’s unrealistic, he will often imagine a future with you, the classic getting married, having children, growing old. A nice, suburban, and perfect lifestyle. He knows that he can’t ever get rid of his rock n roll persona, but there’s a piece of him that’s completely dedicated to simply loving you for the rest of his days.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

First of all; it’s going to take a while to establish yourself as more than just some sex to Skwisgaar. He needs to know you’re not someone trying to brag that they fucked a rockstar. Once he realizes that’s you mean something to him (and vice versa), he relaxes! He gets vulnerable, gets emotional and cuddly and more romantic than you’d expect! He no longer has to keep up the persona, you see the side of him that no one else really does.

Along with this, he’s willing to be more silly than with you! He’s got an even bigger ego than Nathan and hates to look like a fool in front of all his fans. But when he’s around you, he allows himself to make some jokes, mess up a few times and laugh about it. Seeing you laugh makes the small amount of humiliation worth it to him.

Skwisgaar has practically heard it all when it comes to compliments; he’s an international sex symbol and a music mastermind, after all. There’s nothing he hasn’t been praised for. So, he thinks it’s only natural that he compliments the hell out of you just like others do to him. From wake to sleep, he’s giving you all sorts of flattery on how you look and congratulates you on every accomplishment, no matter how small. He likes to feel proud of his darling and makes sure you know it.

Despite him having a long line of past lovers behind him, Skwisgaar gets jealous very easily. Call it a toxic trait, but he’ll flirt with anyone he sees while glaring at anyone who sees you. And his glares are proven to be lethal. Just be careful, cause he can have anyone he deems ‘too touchy’ with you assassinated with the flick of a wrist.

William Murderface

William thinks he’s soo lucky to have you in the first place, he practically worships the ground you walk on. His mind is pretty much on you every moment of the day; every dream he has at night is about you. He’s obsessed with the way you look, the way you act, he’s always staring at you with a dumb, happy smile on his face. Anything you need, he’ll make it happen for you.

I personally feel that he’s a lot smarter than he seems; particularly about history, historical weaponry, and cars. So, when he gets the chance, you get your ass he’s gonna rant to you about all the random stuff that’s up in his brain. He’s an extreme pessimist by nature, but when he’s speaking about the things he truly cares about, he’s seems so enthusiastic and energized, even more so when you actively listen and ask questions.

While Murderface certainly talks a lot, he doesn’t really…express, you know? Most of his conversations are surface-level and to the point. But when he’s comfortable with you, he likes to have deep conversations about things most people think he’s too stupid to care about. Ethics, philosophy, religion. He’s no expert, but everyone has their own beliefs. He wants to share his and to hear yours. Sometimes, he gets really into it, occasionally crying. These moments are important to him and he loves to be with you during them.

Let’s admit it; William isn’t conventionally handsome in anyway. A good reason for that is because he simply doesn’t care or have the patience for proper hygiene. Still, he wants to really impress you, so he starts taking care of himself more. He gets some better products, puts a little more thought into how he dresses, even eats slightly better. It’s not a big difference, but it’s something and it’s noticeable over time.

Bonus^ If you have a skincare routine, he’s going to be right next to you, mesmerized by all the creams and serums and cleansers. Even better if you apply some to him, he gets so soft.

#dethklok #metalocalypse #polyklok is real #william murderface #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #toki wartooth #skwisgaar skwigelf #dethklok headcanon #metalocaypse headcanon #dethklok x reader #polyklok #murderface x reader #Nathan explosion x reader #pickles x reader #toki x reader #Skwisgaar x reader

[raggstorice]

FLASH HEADCANONS!

Where I take a fandom and give a Headcanon for Every. Single. Character.

Twisted Wonderland! #1

Here we go!

Riddle: whenever a bug lands on him he freezes. Just stops.

Ace: His parents always shut down his beliefs. Very much a 'Stay in line and You'll be fine' type of family. (If requested I will rant on my HC Ace backstory)

Deuce: He calls his mother every day and one day she just starts crying and is all like 'Im so proud of you. You've changed so much and I love you.' and Deuce started crying too.

Cater: Does not actually care that much about Magicam. He just needed something to base his personality off of.

Trey: Uses southern insults All. The. Time. People talk to him and he's just 'Well good for you!' and people think he's the nicest.

Leona: If you put a weighted blanket on him he will just fall over like that one scene in Lilo and stitch.

Ruggie: Knows everyone. And I mean EVERYONE. Try to introduce him to someone new and he'll just be like 'OMG my old friend!' yeah.

Jack: Named his cactus Paula. Also Talks to it and uses it like a doll. (Like that one scene in DRDT)

Azul: His first experience with a land dweller was when he saw a coin fall from the surface and he followed it. There was a language barrier so he couldn't talk to them. He wonders how they're doing some days.

Jade: Had a bonding moment with Jack over their love for plants (mushrooms and cacti) also eats mushroom-spinach pizza (like me!)

Floyd: He bites. Also he's banned from playing against other schools in Basketball because of the sheer amount of fouls he gets. Jamil is so done.

Kalim: Will summon a rainbow to cheer someone up. He's precious.

Jamil: Doesn't actually hate Kalim. He just needs to be mad at someone. Oh also he cooks for the Basketball club and brings food to practice. Ace is his biggest fan.

Vil: Godly eye makeup. He's the one who gave Rook his feather in his hat.

Epel: Bad Ass Mother Fucker. He prefers to fight with his tounge rather than his fists. The only one to realize Trey's passive aggressiveness.

Rook: Will bring back fresh meat from his hunts. Him and Jade bring the best ingredients to the Cafeteria and no one knows.

Idia: one time he hid from people in an empty classroom for several hours after school. Ortho almost sent a search party.

Ortho: Spends hours analyzing his friends. Like as a hobby. He brings them perfectly planned gifts and they all love it.

Malleus: Lilia cuts his hair. He also polishes his horns. He secretly really enjoys Sebek's loyalty just wished he was quieter.

Silver: Takes care of the horses so well. They love him and will only accept food from him.

Sebek: He can be surprisingly quiet if you ask nicely. He gets loud again if he gets worked up. Autistic.

Lilia: He loves his sons. He ends up taking care of the whole Campus. No one in NRC can take care of themselves properly so he does it. Mockingbird by Eminem coded

Crowley: He shows up randomly and helps students. Lilia is taking a student to the infirmary? He's there and takes them for him. Leona is asleep in the botanical garden? Crowley kicks him away from the path. The teachers are so done with the chaos and are ready to combust? He's there. He will make the chaos worse and somehow contain it at the same time.

Crewel: He stays stocked up on potions ready to help any students that are ill, tired, or in any sort of pain. He will let you sleep in his classroom and will pull you into his office if he thinks somethings up. Many students have cried in front of him.

Trein: Will go out of his way to include history not taught in textbooks. Stuff about gay rights, racism, trans right, war crimes, fun facts about political leaders, etc. He does it all in the most monotone voice ever.

Lucius: The best cat. Used to be a stray wandering campus. Will bring gifts to students it likes. Recognized Leona as one of its own.

Vargas: Always down to help students. Oh you have Asthma? Good thing I have SEVENTEEN EXTRA INHALERS. You seem to be struggling a little why don't you sit down? Exercise without rest is as good as no exercise at all.

Sam: Will give freebies to students who need it. Oh you skipped lunch to study for a test? Good thing I have a sandwich just for you! Your pen broke? Which one do you want? Also will tell you all the tea.

Grim: Whenever he eats those blot crystals he suddenly knows all of the victims trauma which he reports to Yuu.

Yuu: Has serious conversations with Overblot victims. The best non licensed therapist.

Authors Note: It's 1:23 AM. I'm going to sleep.

#twisted wonderland #headcanons #grim twst #riddle rosehearts #ace trappola #deuce spade #cater diamond #trey clover #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #epel felmier #rook hunt #idia shroud #ortho shroud #malleus draconia #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #lilia vanrouge #dire crowley #divus crewel #mozus trein #ashton vargas #twst sam

[eddysocs]

Fluff Dialogue Prompts

You may mix and match these prompts with ones on the same or different prompt lists you find on my blog when making requests. Context for the prompt(s) is always welcomed and encouraged, but not required.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

"I can't smile at you, I'm mad."

"Can you sing to me?"

"How do you always know exactly what I need?" "I pay attention."

"I could listen to you all day."

"For me, being happy fortunately coincides with making you happy."

"I don't think I have ever felt safer than in your arms."

"I can hardly wait to put a ring on that finger."

"Stop that broody look and come over here."

"You're very lucky I love you."

"Move in with me."

"You should know that I have asthma, just in case you intend on taking my breath away on a regular basis."

"Want to go to a museum with me and make all the paintings jealous with your beauty?"

"I might be an organ donor, but you really shouldn’t take my heart so soon."

"Have I told you I love you yet today?"

"Thank you for everything you do for me."

"You hugged me like your personal pillow."

"Have your eyes always been that dark?"

"Your body feels like home to me."

"If the Gods choose to only give us daughters, then I will gladly have as many as you are willing to give me."

"I will be happy wherever as long as it is by your side."

"What did I do to deserve such a sweet wife?"

"You're the only one who gets to call me that, you know."

"You need to know that I have grown to care for you. Deeply."

"You're always so flirty." "Just with you."

"How long have you had this planned?" "Since the moment I fell in love with you."

"Nothing makes me happier than making you smile."

"I would marry you again in a heartbeat."

"You asked if I have regrets. The answer is no, because somehow, everything I did led me to you."

"I do love you, you know. Even if I'm shit at showing it."

"See, I can play nice sometimes."

"I’ve been in love with you since the day we met."

"Did you just call me (pet name)?"

"Oh, for the love of— come over here and let me fix that."

"I honestly didn’t take you for such a gentleman."

"Your eyes…I get lost in them sometimes."

"He's/She's so pretty I think I’m going to faint."

"You should play with my hair some more."

"Well, hello, sleeping beauty. You fell asleep on me."

"Just say the word. You know I’d do anything for you."

"I heard you liked (thing), so I bought you this."

“You’ve got to go home.” “You are my home.”

"You just have this glow about you."

"I love your laugh."

"You look your cutest like this." "No I don’t, I just woke up." "I know what I said."

"You are constantly finding new ways to surprise me."

"I can keep you company until you fall asleep."

"Can I try some of your food?" "Of course. Open wide."

"This isn’t just a(n) [object], it’s a promise."

"Come back to bed."

"I think my family/friends really liked you. Maybe more than they like me."

"I can’t stop thinking about you."

"Shut up, you love me. Why else would you be here, taking care of me while I hurl into a toilet?"

"Please, never apologise for wanting to be loved."

"Aww, you remembered." "Of course I did."

"This is my boyfriend/girlfriend/fiancé(e)/husband/wife everyone!"

"If you don’t want to spend the night in an empty house, you could always come over to mine."

"One date, that’s all I’m asking for. One night to let me show you how good we could be together.”

"I'll always make time for you."

"Laundry day doesn’t mean walking around in your underwear, but for you, I’ll make an exception."

"How about a kiss before I go?"

#fluff dialogue prompts #fluff prompts

[buckybabieboy]

Needy Little Puppy🤍.

⚠️TW: NSFW, sub!puppy!bucky, dom!fem!reader, handjob, loads of orgasm denial, edging, cock-slapping, slight overstimulation, mommy/mama kink, use of the name “puppy”, subspace and aftercare of course.

☁️Summary: Bucky breaks one of your most important rules, don’t cum without Mommy’s permission, so you edge him until he’s trembling and sobbing for you to let him cum.

📝A/N: Hope you enjoy this quick lil blurb. Thought I might write some more puppy!bucky because it was highly requested. <3 LMAO THERE ARE SO MANY WARNING BAHAHA.

Bucky always got needy and whiny for you when you left him for a while, not knowing what to do with himself when you weren’t there taking care of him. He couldn’t stand being away from you for more than five minutes before cowering away in the corner of your shared bedroom and bawling his eyes out.

When you left him this morning he watched you from the window, yelping and whimpering for his mommy to come back. Today was especially hard for him, because you had a very long day filled with running errands, and your busy schedule only allowed one phone call with him.

During that phone call, you promised you’d give him a special treat if he waited for you like a good boy. But when you got home, you found a very pathetic Bucky desperately rutting his hips into your pillow and screaming your name.

So now here you are, hand gripped around his cock like a vice, edging him for the 3rd time tonight, all because he couldn’t follow the rules.

“Please Mama, please!” Bucky’s whines become more high pitch as he cries out for you. You’re right hand is pumping his cock vigorously, and the corner of your lips curl into a smirk at the way his thighs are shaking.

You’re laying against the headboard of your bed, admiring how pretty Bucky looks as his cock tremble in your hand through the mirror across from you. Both his flesh and and vibranium hand are gripping on to each of your thighs as he lays in between your legs and against your chest. 

“Hold it, Bucky.” You whisper in his ear in a soft and smooth tone, and he shudders at the sound of your demanding voice. You can feel him shake his head no at your command, but the way his cock is twitching in your grip says otherwise.

“M-Mama, please… N-need to-” your needy little boy begs in a pitiful tone, but you cut him off with a hushed “Shh”, speeding your movements on his pulsating cock.

“Awh, I know, sweet boy. You wanna cum so bad, don’t you?” You coo at him, watching in amusement as his eyes roll back to the back of head, no pupils in sight, at the sound of your voice. Loads of pre-cum has spilled out of his swollen cock from being edged so much, and you use that to pump him at a faster and harsher pace.

Bucky is hyperventilating at your movements, poor baby sounded like he was having an asthma attack. A pathetic, loud cry escapes from his throat, as your hand twists around his swollen, pulsating shaft.

“Mommy! Wanna be a good boy f’you but you’re makin it so hard!”

Bucky’s cock is pulsating even more now and you can tell that he’s close.

“I said hold it, Bucky.” You remind him. He knows what will happen if he breaks the rules.

“C-can’t.. so, so, close! M cumming, mama!” Bucky whimpers, his voice shaky from all that stimulation.

Suddenly, you yank your hand off of him, causing him to thrash his legs around in a fit.

“Bad Bucky! What did I tell you?” You scold him. You slap his now purple cock, and he hips jolt forwards in response.

“Ah! Mama!” Bucky yelps pathetically, his cock twitching rapidly and visibly aggravated at not releasing for the 4th time today.

“You’ve broken the rules twice today. Such a naughty boy..” you tsk in disappointment.

“Stay still, puppy.” You slap his cock again, way harder this time, and Bucky sobs loudly.

“MAMA!!” Bucky screams for you, and you slap his cock again and again. He’s writhing and squirming in between your legs, so you wrap yours around his to stop him from trying to get away from you.

“STAY. STILL. I TOLD YOU NOT TO FUCKING MOVE.” You shout in response, giving his abused cock another hard slap.

“Mommy, I’ll be good, promise!! Please mommy, hurts so bad..”

You notice the way Bucky’s eyes are still rolled to the back of his head, and how his tounge was lolling out of his mouth as he pants heavily, just like your little puppy. Finally, you decide to have some mercy on him.

“All right, baby. You took your punishment so well, you can cum now.” You coo as you let Bucky’s legs free from yours. You grip his cock and begin to pump him again, speeding up the pace as you go.

Bucky’s fingers twitch involuntarily, needing something to grab onto. You notice this, and grab his flesh hand with your left hand, hoping to ease him to his climax.

“Mommy..” Bucky calls out for you in barely a whisper. His face was red and puffy with his tears, which were streaming down his precious little face.

“Yes, pretty baby?”

“M so close…”

“I know baby, I know…let go for me. Cum for mommy.” You coo as you reassure him that it’s okay, and that he’s no longer being punished.

“Nngh! Fuck, m-mama! Feels so good! I- im gonna cum!” Bucky babbles as his hips desperately rutt into your fist.

His precious blue eyes go wide as he cries out, finally reaching his orgasm. His cock is spasming intensely and rapidly under your hand. You continue to stroke his cock, letting him ride out his orgasm. He lets out a couple more spurts of cum before falling limp in your arms.

You observe his face through the mirror, watching his face closely as he pants and furrows his brows. He looks so fucked out for you, he can’t even make a complete sentence, your poor little puppy has gone completely dumb from his intense orgasm.

“Good boy, Jamie… such a pretty baby when your all fucked out. Such a good puppy f’mommy.” You continue to praise him, which is very important to Bucky when he’s in subspace. Especially after he’s made such a mess for you.

With him still in between your legs, you grab some wipes from the nightstand next to your bed and begin to clean him up. He yelps at the sudden sensation on his sensitive cock.

“Awh, it’s okay sweetheart, just cleaning you up.” You kiss him on his neck and shush him, letting him know that you’re just cleaning him up for bed. You guys get situated on the bed, with you laying down and Bucky nuzzling into your chest, feeling comfort in your warmth. He’s panting heavily with his tounge still lolling out of his mouth, still finding it hard to catch his breath.

“Calm down, pup. S’okay now, I got you..” you stroke his scalp in soft motions, which always puts him to sleep when he was having trouble. When his breathing began to slow down to a nice and steady pace, you kiss his head before turning off the lights.

“Where are you, pretty boy?” You ask him, wondering how far deep in subspace he is. When his mind is feeling fuzzy like right now he is usually a babbling mess in your arms.

“Right here, mama. Jus’ too tired to talk..” Bucky responds in a soft whisper, and you can tell he’s ready for bed. You kiss his head once more before drifting off to sleep with your little puppy in your arms.

#buckybabieboy #sub!bucky barnes #sebastian stan #dom!reader #sub bucky barnes #imagines #marvel #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #female reader #pam and tommy #tfatws #captain america #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky blurb #bucky barnes x you

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

Chapter 3 of No Fun in Fungus!

@daboyau

@theawesomeninja-xd

@nights-flying-fox

@phoebepheebsphibs

Leo chokes and wheezes on the yellow cloud that infiltrates his lungs. There’s a dull ache in his plastron. It could be from his old injuries, but he was well aware of a possible other cause for the sensation.

Asthma.

Leo would experience most attacks after getting upper respiratory infections, which he had a lot when he was younger.

It was nothing compared to what Donnie went through though.

His immune system sucked and the cold sewer with polluted water did not help his case in the slightest.

More infections meant he needed an inhaler more times than Leo did.

He never asked Splinter how he got one that first time, but he always remembers the bloody bandage around his hand.

He also remembers the birthday he asked for his supply packs.

Dad sewed it together for him.

The contents of the pack changed a lot over the years, but there were three things that never did.

A pack of dinosaur bandaids for Mikey.

Raph’s epi pen.

Their inhaler.

Despite it being years since Donnie’s last attack, that inhaler was never going to missing.

Leo takes it out immediately. Donnie was right next to him before those things came, he couldn’t be far.

“Wretched little pest….”

The voice chills him down to his core.

It’s typically believed that there are several fs when it comes to reacting to fear.

The two most well known are fight or flight.

However, there’s also freeze and fawn.

Fawn would be when Mikey tells Raph he’s the best oldest brother in the world as he hides a broken teddy bear mug behind his back.

Freeze is when you spend an entire flight in an escape pod having a panic attack and can’t even move when you get back because you just left your brother to die.

How ironic is it that someone who can never stop talking can’t say a word when he’s truly terrified?

The face man, curled up in a ball like a pathetic-

Leo covers his ears.

Where were those thoughts coming from?

Were they even thoughts?

It sounded like someone was saying it directly to him.

He feels the immediate need to curl up, not move and hope that it makes it all go away.

Seeing the glowing red eye through the thick particles in the air only makes that feeling worse.

What is happening? How could he be here?

The clanging of metal on the ground in front of him seems to give him an a answer.

He doesn’t want to look at the item in front of him.

The ninpo created weapon he left in the prison dimension.

It should have stayed there, because if it’s here, then it let him come here too.

The laughter he hears nearly makes his heart stop.

“You thought you could escape me?”

Leo can’t stop the fearful tears pricking at his eyes, quietly mumbling no repeatedly.

“You allowed me to come back. As thanks, I’ll kill you last.”

Leo hates how the words he wants to say die in his throat.

“You can watch as I slaughter your siblings, as you took away mine!”

He can hear the sounds of metallic footsteps coming towards him.

Leo can almost see his life flashing before his eyes. It makes him wonder how this response to fear came about.

Why wasn’t he like Donnie who made those escape pods?

Why didn’t he use his skills like Mikey?

Why didn’t he fight like-…….

Raph.

That’s it.

If something truly scary was happening, it was Raph who protected him.

He could freeze up and Raph would be there to shield him from literally anything that would come his way.

Even if it was something impossible like giant freaking aliens with razor sharp tentacles.

Even if he hadn’t given him a good reason to want to protect him that day.

He was right next to him too before the spores came out.

Where was he now?

Leo wanted his big brother.

He screams out his name in fear as the mech that carries the main Kraang finally stands in front of him.

Just like that, Raph appears too.

Leo realizes he’s brought him right into danger and tries to warm him.

Raph kneels down and smiles at him widely.

“What’s the matter, Leo? Raph’s here, it’ll be okay.”

“D-Don’t you see him?”

“Everything is fine, Leo. I promise.”

Leo relaxes for a split second until blood splashes on his face.

Raph had been impaled where he almost had been before.

Leo’s throat begins to hurt, is he screaming again?

He can’t tell.

His face goes to the floor, body curling around himself and the inhaler still in his grip somehow.

The screaming from him is in fact happening, others could hear it even if he couldn’t.

Especially the real Raph.

After the spores had been sprayed and he couldn’t see his brothers, he thought he heard them further away.

He had no clue that the hallucinations could be auditory as well.

After rushing to where they might have been, the sounds got worse.

Donnie, Mikey, Leo, all begging for his help.

No matter where he went he couldn’t reach them.

“Guys! Where are you!?”

“Casey.”

Raph whips his head around.

“Leo?“ He swears he can hear Leo again.

“Listen to me. When I get to the other side, you close that door.”

Raph feels his stomach drop, bringing up his arm to confirm what the hallucinations are making him see and hear.

On his wrist is the device he couldn’t bring himself to wear ever again.

The one that let him hear Leo making a decision he never should have made.

The one that let him hear what that monster was doing to him.

He starts rushing back to the direction he previously left, hoping his brothers hadn’t moved.

The rushing becomes more urgent when he hears Leo scream his name.

He’s moving so fast he nearly trips over his own feet several times.

When he finally sees Leo, everything in front of him turns into a hell scape.

Leo is in front of him, bloodied, bruised, cracks on his plastron and shell, and looking absolutely terrified.

The Krang mech is standing over him.

Raph can’t be sure at all that this how it was in the prison dimension, maybe this was accurate or maybe it’s just how he imagined it was.

Just like he never mentioned what he saw, Leo always redirected what it was like in those moments before Mikey was able to save him.

All he knew is what he and everyone else heard.

Raph knows this is all fake, something to mess with his head.

That doesn’t make his guilt go away in the slightest.

He wasn’t there to stop him, protect him.

When Splinter made Leo leader Raph wasn’t upset or mad because he got replaced, he seriously could not care less who led who in terms of responsibility.

He was worried that it meant Leo would take the brunt of the hits, be the shield when that was supposed to be what Raph does.

Raph is huge, that’s obvious.

None of his brothers can ever tell how small they are to him. Not just in size, but….how can you forget that you used to hug them close because they were scared of the dark?

They run out of your arms and when that’s when you realize that there’s so many things way scarier than the dark.

You want to scoop them back up so they don’t run too far to keep close.

Leo had managed to go so far away.

The Krang mech hits Leo across the face, splattering blood on the floor.

He hears Leo scream bloody murderer, screams he wished never would come from any member of his family.

Raph feels something snap in his brain that is usually reserved just for his savage modes.

He powers up, creating a larger version of himself to clap its arms together. This forces the spores in the air to disburse and clears the area.

He then stares down the fake Krang and stomps it.

The hallucination loses its hold. When he lifts the foot back up there’s just the pole that Donnie gave Leo under it.

Leo flinches, slowly but shakily lifting up his head.

“N-No….not again….please….” He nearly whispers.

Raph reaches out to see if he was real.

Leo tears up heavily.

Raph can see the utter terror on his face.

“Let him go. Stop….stop doing this. He doesn’t deserve it! Why can’t you leave him alone….!?” Leo shouts hoarsely, his throat already rough.

Raph quickly stops with his other form, but

Leo suddenly stands up and grabs at his arms before he can say anything.

“Get off him! How dare you use his body for this!? Again!? Haven’t you done enough to him!? To me!?”

“Listen to me, it’s not real! Those spores are making us hallucinate.”

Leo’s eyes widen.

“It’s….fake….? I….I didn’t bring him back here? You’re….you’re not….?”

“I’m the real deal, I promise.”

Leo feels the adrenaline that kept him standing give out along with his legs.

Ralph keeps him steady, moving to pick him up.

“N-No….just….let me use your arm, please.”

“You’re not in good shape Leo…..I heard you screaming.”

Leo breathes shakily.

“I want to know I can still make myself move.”

Raph isn’t entirely sure he gets it, but there was no way he was going to deny him what he seemed to need because of that.

He nods and puts Leo’s arm around his own since his shoulder would be too up high to help.

“We need to find Donnie and Mikey.”

“Maybe you can explain everything as we walk….I am so lost right now.”

“Not anymore, Leo.”

Leo smiles faintly.

“I’m going to let that corny thing pass since I think we could both use that right now.”

Raph smiles back and walks with him.

When the spores had first erupted around them, Donnie felt his hand get grabbed.

He knew who it was by the texture of the hand right away.

Of course the size is another indicator, but Donnie focused a lot on how things feel.

Raph’s hand is rougher than everyone else’s, both because he often uses his fists and the fact he lifts weights which causes calluses.

Leo’s hand is the softest because of his use of gloves during their fights, and the incredibly long list of skin care products he owns.

Mikey’s hand usually has something else on it, chalk dust, or finger paint, or, one time, peanut butter, which made Donnie gag.

That’s the hand that pulled him away.

They moved fairly fast.

“Ugh, this smells like when we found that cheese dad was hoarding so it could age. Be careful Mikey, we could start hallucinating at any moment.” Donnie warns.

“Maybe if you could do more than spend your time on dumb inventions we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Donnie rips his hand out of his grip.

“You’re not-!….Am I trying to say something to a hallucination? Great, now I’m a cliché.”

Saying that other part out loud was also pointless, he knows.

He was basically talking to himself right now.

Those stupid invasive mushrooms were trying to turn baseless thoughts into tangible visions.

What he doesn’t understand is how and why it happened this way.

If it followed the pattern of what Mikey and Raph saw, he would see something he’s supposedly scared of relating to the Krang.

However, feeling and hearing shouldn’t have been part of it.

Had it been that case, what he did to help Raph wouldn’t have worked.

Was it the amount of spores? Was there a certain set of rules he wasn’t aware of?

He missed some variable, this is exactly why he hates when he’s missing data.

Donnie turns around to try to get back to where he was taken from.

“I can’t believe you chose those jerks over me.”

He’s taken aback by the new voice but tries to remind himself that it means nothing.

“It’s always about what you want. She makes fun of me and you join up with her just for a jacket? Do I really man less to you than a jacket…..?”

“That is not how I feel! She knows that!”

“Maybe…..maybe Donnie thinks we’re too dumb to be his brothers. He wishes we were like him.”

What? Mikey again?

“Are you kidding? I bet he wishes he was an only child. Donnie never cares about what we’re doing, he just waits to talk about what he’s doing.”

No, Raph wouldn’t say that!

He turns, only to see Leo right in front of him.

“Stop it! I know you’re not real!”

“Thanks for the advice, Donnie.”

“I didn’t give you any!”

“Sure you did. Back when Ghost Bear showed up. “Leo, sacrifice yourself? Buy us some time?” Does that ring any bells?”

Donnie freezes.

“I-It was a joke.”

“How about when I was supposed to protect you because I sell the least amount of toys?”

“Obviously another joke!”

“No, Donnie. It pushed me to do what had to be done. I’ll do it as many times as I need to.”

Donnie grits his teeth.

“No! You won’t! I’ll stop you!”

“Stop me? How? With another gift disguised as a way to tell me you hate me?”

“It was a real gift! I thought it would help!”

The shock collar suddenly appears on Leo.

“It’s a real pain in the neck, Dontron.”

It shocks him, making him writhe and scream in pain.

Donnie can’t help but scream as well.

#no fun in fungus #2018 tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rise fanfiction #tmnt 2018 #fanfiction #rise leo #rottmnt michelangelo #rise angst #rise raph #tw hallucinations #tw blood #tw panic attack #tw impalement #tw electrocution

[melodygatesauthor]

Jonathan Levy - Random Horny Thot #1 - The Girl in the Front Row

NSFW

He'd spent night after night jerking off to your videos online. He watched you, pretty legs spread wide with a vibrator plunged deep in your wet little pussy. He'd fantasized about feeling your walls contracting around his girth, squeezing his cock while you cum over and over again. He knew he could do better than that silly piece of plastic, he knew he could do better for you.

When the new semester starts, and he looks up to see his new class, he nearly drops the coffee mug in his hand. There you are, sitting with your eyes down staring at your notebook and writing your notes. Jonathan gulps, mouth slack open and breathing heavily. Is he having an asthma attack? No...no he's okay...

Professor Levy knows he has to have you, and when all the other students leave, he tells you to stay behind. When you look at him with those big, curious eyes he feels his arousal building instantly. You're so pretty, and his cock aches with a need to be buried deep inside of you. He takes off his glasses and puts them on his desk.

He says your stage name, the one only fans of your work would know about, and then watches the panic wash over your face. You start stammering, unable to get out a coherent thought, and he can see it in your expression so he stands, putting a caring hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, you don't have to worry honey, I'm not going to tell anyone," he trails his hand up the side of your neck and he brushes his thumb against your cheek.

"Professor I-"

"Sh," he puts a finger on your lips, "you've given me so much, let me return the favor hm?"

Within seconds he's got you bent over his desk, door locked, cock buried to the hilt in your warm little cunt. He shudders feeling it grabbing onto him like it doesn't want to let go. He rubs the globes of your ass with both hands, grabbing them and spreading your cheeks so he can watch.

"Oh god, look at you. Thought about this a lot but-oh-fuck-never thought I'd actually feel you sweetheart. So tight..."

You're like putty in his hands, whining and moaning over the desk, holding on so hard your knuckles ache. He grabs your waist, gripping roughly, leaving divots in your skin.

His slow rolling motions get more uneven as he gets closer to losing himself. It's wrong, fucking a student, especially one two decades younger than he is, but he can't help himself, and you feel so fucking good.

In fact, you feel so good that he's embarrassed at how quickly he's spilling his hot seed inside of you, filling you so full you're making a mess of his classroom floor. He's not going to let you go unsatisfied though, not a fucking chance.

He doesn't even care that he's going to have to wash his own cum out of his beard before his next lecture, he's on his knees behind you, lapping at your hungry clit with fervor. You're gasping, breathing heavily while he slurps and eats everything out of you.

He makes good on his promise, giving you one of the same mind-numbing orgasms that you'd given him time and time again with your films in the privacy of his home office. You were such a mess when he was finished that your makeup was running down your face and your stockings were ruined.

"Keep this up honey," he leans in, beard brushing against your ear, "and I'm sure you'll do just fine in my class."

Any of my blurbs can be used as inspo for a fic. Please tag me for credit. Thank you!

Random Blurbs Masterlist

#scenes from a marriage #jonathan levy #jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy fanfiction #jonathan levy x you #jonathan levy fan fiction #jonathan levy smut #jonathan levy fic #scenes from a marriage fanfiction #john levy fanfiction #john levy fan fiction #john levy fiction #jonathan levy fiction

[shakesthewizard]

Hi please explain about fabianxadaine???

Okay since you asked so nicely here's the fucking thing about Fabadaine

First, some background info

Before we dive in, you should know a couple things. For one, I'm a firm bad kid polycule truther. You could truly pitch me any pairing/grouping of those kiddos and I could find a really ineresting and/or sweet dynamic to eat the drywall about

You should also know that I'm gonna most likely remember some details during this analysis - if you spot them, please let me know by putting them in a bottle and throwing them into the ocean.

Second, some character meta

Adaine O'Shaughnessey is a girl with a lot of courage. It's sort of her defining character trait. The idea of "a wizard with an anxiety disorder" brings to mind someone pretty timid, who's afraid of speaking their mind. But from her first appearance, we see clearly that to Adaine, her disorder is pretty explicitly medical. On her first day of freshman year, she's already talking back to her horrible parents and trying to stand up for herself. Long before she gets access to medication, her disorder hinders her the way an asthma attack might; it has no bearing on her willingness to do the courageous thing.

Relatedly, Adaine thrives under adversity. Not abuse or mistreatment, mind - what I mean is that she likes it when people push back at her a little, so that she has opportunities to test her ideas and opinions against dissent. Look at her dynamic with Aelwyn in season three. Those two bicker and banter; they poke at each other, but it's how they're expressing things like concern or pride.

You could argue, probably well, that this is a product of sisterhood, and a product of their history in particular. But I think there's more to it than that. We see throughout the show that Adaine is a person who cares about exceeding; about learning and growing and achieving great things. It's classic wizard.

Adaine is the child of the wealthy and the important, and that shapes everything about her. It influences her struggles; her abandonment issues in particular. But it also shapes her goals, her values, and her attitudes. She seeks recognition for her skills and her labor, and she wants the people she loves to challenge her so that she can grow and make them proud.

Fabian Seacaster is the son of a famous man and a natural talent. His showmanship is clear and evident from the first moments we see him, and it's reflected in his character build from the start. He's a Champion Fighter, after all.

This showmanship is, frankly, a testament to Lou Wilson's masterful understanding of characters. That single trait can be picked apart to help us understand everything about him.

Fabian is a showman because he was raised as the scion of an up-and-coming house; given every tool he needed to learn his parents' skills, and to prepare him to take the Seacaster name when the time comes.

Fabian is a showman because he believes wholeheartedly in his own greatness. His whole life, he's been surrounded by tutors whose whole job it has been to mold him into the perfect son, and they were paid enough to care about doing it right.

Fabian is a showman because he knows he's earned his own arrogance; wealth or not, pampered lifestyle or not, we see him scold his fencing teacher when he goes easy on him. Fabian isn't blinded by his privilege (or at least not entirely) - he genuinely cares about being the best, and he'll give up the luxury if it means greatness.

Fabian is a showman because he's deeply anxious. Bill and Hallariel clearly love their son, but being the only child of a world-famous pirate, tasked with being their emissary to Solace for future generations, is an unbelievable amount of pressure. Fabian has to be perfect to the world outside. He can't just be good; he can't just be great; he has to be Fabian Aramais Seacaster, Son of the Famous Bill Seacaster!

Fabian is a showman because he has to figure out who he is, somehow. Who is he, outside of his father? He certainly doesn't know, but suddenly he realizes he has to know, for his own sake. So he does what any kid does when they're trying to figure out their identity - they act out.

Finally, what I understand about Fabadaine that nobody else does

Fabian Seacaster and Adaine O'Shaughnessey are the children of the wealthy; the important. They're both second generation Solesians, sent out to represent their families. They're both ambitious people who are trying to achieve great things outside the expectations of their parents. They're both proud and straightforward, prioritizing their values over social niceties.

Adaine and Fabian both carry the swords of their dead fathers.

To put it simply - Fabian and Adaine are really good foils for each other, and I dislike when their dynamic is reduced to classic highschool boyfriend/girlfriend tropes.

As an example, a number of fics I've read have Fabian pursuing Adaine, and that simply doesn't hold up. Let's be honest here - Fabian has terrible taste in women, and has a bad track record of making the more self-destructive choice whenever romance is on the table. I have no doubt he likes Adaine, but he would also know that she'd hold him accountable and challenge him when he makes stupid choices. No, Adaine is the one initiating here.

The thing that really draws me to this pair is because both of them need and want to be challenged, but each of them has a different attitude towards challenging others, and it makes for an active dynamic that can evolve in a lot of interesting ways.

You know what, check back later. I need to write fic about this.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #adaine o'shaughnessey #fabian seacaster #fabadine

[tigertofu]

ok i've been chipping away at this Thing for a long time and i think it's finally ready to be vomitted out into the internet. without further ado, here is my

Stupid-Long List of Trevor Headcanons

divided into chronological sections !

((the NSFW shit is hiding at the bottom))

CW's for: mentions of drugs/alcohol, addiction, cannibalism, violence, gross sex stuff. typical Trevor things

and heres a gif of him cuz ig thats the tumblr thing to do idk i never made one of these lists b4 :x

the past

• he's a scorpio and the reason he has a scorpion tat on his hand is bc he's like. very mildly into horoscopes. he was born some time in november

• he doesn't have a middle name cuz his mom didn't give enough of a shit to give him one

• despite playing hockey and golf as a kid, he was never really that into the sports themselves. he only did hockey because he saw it as a way to beat up other children and not get reprimanded for it, and he did both in the hopes of being good enough at something to earn his mother's praise for once (it did not work :()

• hates his dad bc of how he treated his mom and is glad he abandoned him at that shopping mall when he was a kid

• he (w/ Brad's help) would play "pranks" on (aka BULLY) poor Lester during the north yankton days. some fav pastimes included (but were not limited to): pantsing him, hiding his walking cane, and replacing his asthma medication with laughing gas

• was highkey jealous of how easy Michael could get girls during the north yankton days. when he actually was able to convince a girl to come back home with him, he would make sure to be loud as hell about it so that Mike would know he wasn't the only one getting chicks

• all of his hand tats and a lot of his other tats were done in prison, even tho he was only in for like 6 months

• prison was a mixed bag for him. on one hand, anal. on the other, having to restrain himself from arguments and physical altercations so he could get out early on good behavior

• went thru a breakdancing phase in the 90's (i THINK this one might be canon. idk. could've sworn i've heard him try to tell Lamar this in an attempt to impress him. pls feel free to prove me wrong or right)

• one of the scars on his eyebrows is actually the result of getting a fresh eyebrow piercing ripped tf out during a barfight in the 00's. prob for the best that it was cuz we all know that shit wouldve ended up getting infected and rejecting out of his face anyways

• he moved to Sandy Shores not just because it's nice and isolated, but because it was the place most opposite of north yankton he could think of. never any snow. he absolutely fucking hates cold weather and snow because it reminds him of a certain bank heist that happened in '04

• between Ron, Chef, and Wade, Chef was the first one he met after moving to Sandy Shores. they used to cook meth together in a trailer out in the desert (another one that i THINK is canon but im not sure idk. it all blurs together, idk whats canon and whats not anymore, my brain is too rotted from spinning Trevor around in it like the world's most dried out little shriveled husk of a rotisserie chicken for the past three years, the fog is coming, yk how it is)

• he acquired Liquor Ace the same way he "acquired" the Vanilla Unicorn. the previous owner just mysteriously disappeared one day. nobody in Sandy Shores cared tho once word got around that the new owner was gonna start cooking crystal in the upstairs and selling it

• yk how in the game he said that his heart momentarily stopped once cuz he put an axe thru a power cable? he did that cuz the power had gone out in the middle of him watching an Impotent Rage episode he hadn't seen yet. for some reason (was prob very high and very angry) he thought that he could bring the power back by hitting the sparking wire with an axe. it didnt work. he smelled like overcooked bacon for a week afterwards. he enjoyed that part tho

the present

• he makes Ron cut his hair with a pair of rusty kitchen scissors when he needs a trim. he used to go to the nice barber lady in Sandy Shores but got banned after loudly moaning about how good her nails felt on his scalp once

• once smoked an entire cigarette in one long inhale. Wade witnessed this and found it extremely impressive

• he'll eat pretty much anything but he especially likes foods with strong flavors. salty, sour, super sweet, spicy, etc cuz his taste buds are SHOT from the years of smoking/drug abuse. he abuses condiments, especially hot sauce

• thinks that any restaurant that doesn't have a drive-thru is a "fancy" restaurant

• LOVES candy cuz the meth has given him a major sweet tooth, but prefers anything with chocolate over fruity/gummy candies

• has a weird fascination with eating raw meat.....of any kind. except for sushi. he thinks sushi is "fancy prissy city people food"

• also has a weird fascination with making stews/soups similar to the eyelid one that he tries to feed Michael in that one cutscene. it's the only type of food he knows how to cook. may be a comfort thing for him because microwaving a bowl of canned soup was the most effort his mother ever put into making a meal for him when he was a kid. and she did it like, twice, maybe. he for sure remembers both times very clearly tho and considers them to be some of his fondest memories

• will go for days without eating anything solid before finally sitting down and consuming enough food to feed a family of 5. sometimes he just like. forgets that eating is necessary for survival

• can open beer bottles with his teeth. between that and the meth habit, its an absolute miracle he still has all his teeth

• go-to pizza order is a large meat lover's. he tries to make vaguely sexual passes about "loving large meat" at the poor pizza delivery guys every time he orders delivery. does not tip, but will say shit like "hey, if you come inside i've got a little tip for ya" while the delivery guy quickly vacates the premises

• honestly? i think there is a good 50/50 chance on whether or not he is ACTUALLY a cannibal. maybe he posters as one cuz he likes the reactions it incites, maybe he genuinely enjoys the psychosexual intimacy of consuming the flesh of another human being........ who knows !! not knowing is half the fun :)

• ok ok hear me out u know that stupid tiktok sound that was going around a couple years ago that goes "hi my name is carmen winstead -- HAAAAAHHHGGCHH" ??? look it up if u don't cuz that's what his snoring sounds like. the fucking "HAAAAAHHHGGCHH"

• once he's asleep he is out like a fucking light. guy could sleep thru nuclear war

• is not opposed to drinking hand sanitizer when out of other sources of alcohol. it tastes just like the shitty moonshine Ron makes in his backyard anyways and gets him even drunker so why not !

• hates horror films bc they make him angry. at least, any of the ones where somebody survives at the end. thinks the murderers in them are stupid. starts yelling shit at the TV like "HE'S GETTING AWAY YOU STUPID FUCK,, WHAT ARE YOU DOING !!!!"

• believes baby pink and orange are "his colors"

• will sit on his sofa or bed and try to shoot any cockroaches scurrying around his place with a pistol for funsies when bored sometimes

• enjoys playing darts at the Yellow Jack with anyone who'll play him but absolutely fucking sucks at it cuz of his shaky hands. accidentally threw a dart into another bar patron's head once. will rage and insist his opponent cheated when he loses. will then get physical if anyone tries to tell him its impossible to cheat at darts. is much less of a sore loser when playing with Mike, Frank, or Lamar tho he will still grumble about losing for up to hours on end afterwards

• is an illegal immigrant bc he never became a US citizen. does not own an actual ID, but has several fakes lying around, all with fake birth dates and fake names that are wildly varying levels of believable

• will absolutely flip his fucking lid if Wade comes around him while wearing Juggalo face paint

• speaking of Wade. yk how he has a shitty tattoo of his own name on his arm? (at least i think he does. i tried looking to see if he does and i couldnt tell so now im unsure if thats just yet another detail that my brain completely made up or smth that i actually saw). ANYWAYS, Trevor gave it to him (stick n poke. it was a longggg process but Wade didnt mind too much cuz he was high at the time and consented to it beforehands anyways) when Trevor first "took him in" cuz he kept forgetting his name and got tired of referring to him as "Hey, you" (which Wade did not respond to most of the time anyways)

• is an ugly crier. like, a butt-ugly crier. snot, drooling, wailing, red face, the whole nine yards and he is loud as hell about it too

• loves back rubs cuz ofc he does he's an old man. often makes Ron or Wade give him massages

• his boomer-ass super-zoomed-in LifeInvader profile pic was taken by Ron. it took them a dozen tries before they got it

nsfw

• he sucks at eating out.........kinda? but what he lacks in precision and consistency he makes up for with sheer (sloppy. slobbery) passion. and endurance. can stay down there (and will, if you let him) for hours

• is not much better at blowing. "accidentally" uses too much teeth every time

• ~4 inches. MAYBE 4.5. good girth tho. not cut

• has a thing for chubby/thicc ppl

• is a biter and won't ask before biting so uhh watch out ! part of the reason for the above is bc there's more to bite

• loooooves loves loves to suck on things. fingers, necks, tits, dicks, anything. also looooooves having it reciprocated. particularly likes shoving his fingers in your mouth

• loves to involve mouths as much as possible. spitting/being spat on, the aforementioned biting as well as being bitten, eating food off of your body or having food eaten off of him, the type of makeout sessions that involve shoving each other's tongues down each other's throats.. anything that involves mouths and/or the motions of eating drives him fucking wild

• will beg you even when not explicitly told to when he's not feeling dominant. will beg and beg and beg and beg and it's hot but can also quickly become incredibly annoying

• but he LOVES to be annoying on purpose too. via the begging, or by teasing/edging, mocking, etc. loves to get a rise out of you and loves the attention (even if negative.. ESPECIALLY if negative) it gets him

• occasionally cries after sex. will expect you to hold him while he does. will start to angry cry and say you don't actually love him if you refuse

• now ik this one is nothing groundbreaking and seems to already be the general consensus amongst the Trevor enjoyers but im gonna say it anyways. he def has a thing for public/semi-public sex. be careful about sitting next to him while in any public space. he WILL try to touch on you and it WILL be in a way that makes it obvious to everyone in the immediate vicinity what's going on. does he do it on purpose as an exhibition thing? maybe...... does he genuinely think he's being slick about it? also maybe. if ur with him, expect to be banned from multiple establishments

• lowkey has a breeding kink in the sense that he loves to finish inside (not just bc it feels nice but also bc of the intimacy of it) and thinks that pregnant women are hot as hell

• is most likely infertile due to the years of meth use tho

• loves to both overstimulate and be overstimulated. just bc you've both climaxed doesnt mean he wont keep going for god-knows-how-long

..................andd that's all she (i) wrote. ty for reading !! i've got more shit to say about Trevor cuz ofc i do but this is already like 2k words so if u wanna hear my headcanons on anything specific at all,, pls do throw it in my ask box ! <33

#trevor philips #trevor philips headcanons #gta v #trevor philips/reader #trevor philipsxreader #gtav #gta 5 #gta5 #gtav headcanons #gta headcanons #headcanons

[sweetly-yours-and-mine]

Summary: B reading and A watching with their chin on B's shoulder

Pairing: Jonathan Levy x Reader

Warnings: boring dialogue?, probably me self-inserting in the self-insert i wrote

Word Count: 944

When you enter the bedroom, Jonathan can tell immediately that you've been crying. There are tear tracks on your face, and your breath, usually his anchor during his asthma attacks and like the flow of the river, comes in short little tides of gasps. You're trying to calm down but he doesn't think it's working. 

Letting his book fall face-open on his chest, "What's happened, baby?" He’s chewing away at some Nicorette gum, absent-mindedly, the repetitive motion keeping his mind just faintly occupied enough so he can focus on what he’s reading. 

He has a sneaking suspicion about what it was but he doesn't want to belittle you and assume things. 

"Nothin'," you give him a weak smile, your eyes tired and glistening. Your voice breaks, "I was just watching a movie." 

"Oh?" He shifts up on the bed, resting against the headboard. With his age, he's been forced to put pillows behind his back now, otherwise he'll wake up in the morning with a knot and he won't be able to get out of bed without your help. "Which one?" 

You hesitate before looking down at the ground and murmuring, "It's a Wonderful Life." 

Jonathan's not surprised. You loved that one, no matter how cheesy. You'd showed him photos of your college dorm and there was a big movie poster tacked up on the wall across from your bed. 

For your birthday, he'd bought you the colourized CD and now like tradition, you watch it when the holidays roll around. 

And like tradition you break down into tears at the end of it. 

To my big brother George, the richest man in town. 

"It's summer, honey, what are you doing watching a Christmas movie?" 

You shrug, coming over to join him on the bed. You click into his side like a magnet. "Wanted to watch it again."

“Did you enjoy it?” 

“Mmhm.” 

He shifts and moves down again, his book sliding just that way to the left of his body. “Well, that’s all that matters then.” 

Cuddling closer, so that he feels your breath against the sensitive skin of his neck, as it starts to regain its normal music, “What’re you reading?” 

“Oh,” he holds up the cover for you to see. It’s a beaten-down, yellow, almost identical to the colour The Man in the Yellow Hat wore in the Curious George books, though that’s about where the similarities end. “The Life You Can Save. Peter Singer.” 

“What’s it about?” Your hand follows down the trail of his chest, starting from his shirt collar, and rests on his lower tummy. 

You were unlike anyone he’d ever dated after his divorce. You’d been shaped and moulded by your past like him. Craving touch and running away when it was given to you. 

You’d been hurt. A guy you hadn’t named yet but talked about sometimes, just enough so Jonathan would be able to tell just what kind of accommodation you were asking of him. 

The first time Jonathan kissed you, you didn’t even give him a chance to say good night before you were gone, the lock turning sounding like the door of a coffin closing. 

Though that had been three years ago. 

Now, you tuck your head into his neck and touch his tummy. Sometimes, you get a little scandalous and run your hands up his inner thighs. 

But always in private, always alone, sharing your solitude with Jonathan. 

“The morality of people knowing about poverty and doing nothing to stop it,” he says, flipping through the pages with his thumb at the edge of the book, before he closes it and hands it over to you. 

You take it with a frown, and for a few moments, you go quiet as you read the back of it. “Is this for one of your classes?” 

Jonathan’s just glad that you’re not thinking about the movie anymore, even if you claimed to enjoy it, he doesn’t like seeing you unnecessarily cry; another little of those funny knacks leftover from Mira, like when you stay the night at someone else’s and they tour the house, teaching you how to handle every temperamental doorknob and tap. 

“Yeah, Intro to Ethics.” 

“I didn’t know they had you teaching junior-level courses again.” 

You place the book back on his chest, replace your hand where it rightfully belongs. 

He shrugs, “I taught it a couple times during my postdoc…just trying to refresh my mind. Update the content a bit.” 

With a little sigh, “I wish I had professors like you when I was in college.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. He cups the back of your head with his hand, “I do too.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your reading.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s alright.” 

But Jonathan hears what you wanted to say and picks up his book, flipping back to where he was. On cue, you place your head on his shoulder and tilt up. 

Since Ava moved away to college, Jonathan’s got a lot more time on his hands. He’s finally gotten around to building you that window seat you always wanted, finishing up shows that he’s been meaning to watch for years now. Reading, writing, sleeping, eating. 

He goes on long walks with you these days, pumping fresh, clean air into his lungs and making his attacks infrequent and far between. He hasn’t touched a cigarette or a lighter in months now. 

It’s almost strange the amount of time he gets to spend on himself and you now. Maybe it’s a brief taste of what retirement is going to be like.

Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.

Masterlist here. Summer Drabbles here.

#jonathan levy #jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy x you #jonathan levy x y/n #jonathan levy x female!reader #jonathan levy fluff #jonathan levy angst #jonathan levy fanfiction #jonathan levy fanfic #jonathan levy fic #jonathan levy x f!reader #jonathan levy imagine #scenes from a marriage fanfiction #scenes from a marriage #scenes from a marriage imagine #scenes from a marriage fic #oscar isaac

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

Picnic Dates, plus two - Dr James Wilson x peds!reader

Description: You've got a lunch date, but it's not with James.

word count: 1.8k

Masterlist

REQUESTS OPEN FOR PEDS!READER - request here

Y/n skipped down the halls of peds, smiling to herself. Each room she passed she waved to the patients inside. Holly, Trevor, Milton, Magnus, Bea, Molly, Jo, Josh. She knew all their names and knew how they should look, so that if anything was even slightly off she could spring into action.

She reached the last of the rooms on the hallway and pulled out a pink glitter file from her stack. Truthfully, she wasn’t allowed to decorate her patients files, but it turns out if you are not swamped with malpractice lawsuits and actually have a good bedside manner with your patients, Cuddy can be quite lenient.

“Hello y/n!” the little girl jumped up from her bed showing off her finding nemo pyjamas. Her blonde curls fell in front of her face, being batted away by her tiny hands.

“Good morning, Lisa! And how are you doing this fine day?”

“I good!”

“Can you give me anything more specific?” Y/n teased, raising her eyebrow.

“I feel really, really, really, really well!”

“I am so pleased to hear that Lisa. I am just going to do a quick examination, not that I don’t fully trust your own medical degree.” Lisa laughed and her parents lovingly looked at how happy their daughter seemed despite her condition. That was all down to y/n.

Lisa had become a regular of the hospital, brought in many times with asthma attacks so severe each trip to the hospital seemed to be a death sentence. Every time, y/n was there so Lisa could wake up to a familiar face. Stroking her hair and talking to her so she didn’t have to come to terms with her scary surroundings.

As y/n went to leave the room she was stopped by Lisa’s mum.

“Hi Dr y/l/n, I just wanted to say thank you.”

“It’s nothing, it’s my job.”

“No, it’s not. Examining her, diagnosing her, that’s your job. No one’s making you sing her songs or play her games. So…thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Y/n left the room, her heart feeling just that bit warmer seeing that little girl babble to her parents about everything that was in her tiny head. She felt a presence next to her and her heart practically set on fire when her eyes met his.

“Hi.” It was soft, like she was sharing a secret.

“Hi. How’s Lisa doing?”

“She’s doing well, she’ll be home this afternoon. Just in time for SpongeBob.” Wilson raised an eyebrow. “Her favourite.”

“Now, remember last week when we went to that deli in the town over and you loved that sandwich. Well, I went to the shops and got all the ingredients and made us two of your sandwich with chips, coleslaw, and everything. My office, 12?”

A sorrowful look crossed her face, and she seemed to retreat into her mind.

“You have other plans—it’s fine, enjoy.”

“Believe me, that sounds amazing and usually I would love to but—I can’t.” Wilson nods but his gaze is on the floor. He shoved his hands in his pockets. She grasped his arms in a silent question that he is okay with this. He covered her hand with his own.

“I’m okay.” Despite feeling unsatisfied with his answer, she picked up her files and made her way down the corridor. Every few moments she turned back around to look at the oncologist who now was weakly kicking at the floor.

---

The door to House’s office slams open.

“At what point in each marriage did my wives start retreating from me.”

“Catherine of Aragon, 3 years, and 4 months. Boleyn, 2 years, and 11 months.”

Wilson falls down onto the chair in his friends office.

“Please don’t call my ex-wives that.”

“I’m a history buff, what can I say, Henry.” House smirks.

Ignoring the ill-placed humour, Wilson continues.

“My point remains that they were all after a lengthy period of time—”

“And/or directly after you cheated.” He looks towards House’s smug face, disapprovingly.

“But neither of them were after 2 months.”

“Trouble in peds, oh I’m sorry paradise.”

“I don’t really know. It just feels like she doesn’t want to spend time with me.”

“Well, she is a paediatrician, so every day she meets people more emotionally mature than you.”

“Ha ha. Just today she blew me off for lunch, and, thinking about it we haven’t had lunch together at the office in a week. What if she’s pulling away? What if she doesn’t love me anymore?”

“What if she’s busy?” House still refused to look up from his Gameboy.

“She’s not, I checked. She just has 10 patients she’s monitoring, none of which are severe.”

House paused his game. “You checked her files? I’m rubbing off on you. Boy wonder oncologist, we may have found your bad bone yet. Maybe we should get a noun to replace your last name as well.”

“I’m going to confront her.” Wilson abruptly stood up and opened the door.

“The word you’re looking for is communicate.” Wilson went to leave. “WAIT! Wilson-“ House picked up the phone “It’s for you. It’s God. He say’s you’re bad at relationships.”

Wilson angrily left the room and slammed the door which echoed with the cackles of his best friend.

---

Y/n opened the door to leave her office, armed with a pasta salad and an iced coffee.

“Do you want to break up?”

Y/n was startled by her flustered boyfriend who had jumped out in front of her.

“What? No! Why would you think that? I love you of course I don’t want to leave you.” She reached up to cup his cheek and used her thumb to stroke under his eyes.

“I can’t believe you were thinking that! I can’t believe I made you think that! Oh, baby I’m so sorry.” After her rambling she threw her arms around his neck, ladening his neck with so many kisses as way of apology. Wilson chuckled before completing the hug and squeezing her waist.

She pulled back from the hug.

“Why did you think I wanted to leave you?”

“Well, lunch. You didn’t want to, again, and we haven’t had lunch together in about a week. And in all my past relationships, there comes a time when they start to retreat,” He scratched the back of his neck “I just thought it had come sooner than usual.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, I couldn’t.”

She bit her lip and tried to find the right words before blurting out. “I’m seeing a 12-year-old.”

Wilson simply couldn’t find the words.

“Please—”

“Oh, not like that. Come with me.” She took his arm and began to lead him to the elevator.

---

They stood in front of the window that showed a boy, small for his age, curled up on the hospital bed playing with two power rangers. His room was devoid of balloons, toys, cards: the decorations that covered every other peds room.

“That’s Lucas. He came in last week with pneumonia. He’s on antibiotics and he’s improving. His dad died when he was 2 and his mum works constantly to make enough money. She can’t visit him a lot, she only managed 2 visits last week. He’s never even left his house. And now he only knows two things: he’s sick and he’s alone. This hospital can look like a big scary place when you’re a kid so –”

“So, you eat lunch with him every day so he has at least one visitor.” Her boyfriend finishes her sentence flawlessly.

“I’ll bet you even tell him that you choose to be with him, probably say that all the other doctors are boring.” She laughs at how well he knows her. She steps back from the window and pushes open the door.

“Lucas, there is someone very special I want you to meet. This is Dr Wilson.”

Lucas perks up at seeing, not only his favourite doctor, but also another boy enter the room.

“Is he your friend, Dr y/l/n?”

“Yes, he is, he’s my special friend.”

“Mummy always said Daddy was her best friend. Do you love him like my mummy loved my daddy.”

“Observant kid.” Wilson quietly remarks.

“What do you have for lunch today, Dr y/l/n?”

Y/n sits down on Lucas’ bed. “Actually, Lucas, today Dr Wilson and I have—"

“Have to tell you that I took over Dr y/l/n’s clinic hours so she can have 3 more hours to spend with you. She’s been nagging me to have more time with you for weeks!” He rolls his eyes jokingly. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

She turns away from Lucas to mouth ‘Thank you’ towards him. In return he waves as if to say see you later.

---

the next day

“I have the tickets, Thursday night!” House limped down the hallway flanked by his exasperated friend.

“Can’t.”

“Liar. Your girlfriend’s ignoring you so unless you’ve already found the next next potential Mrs Wilson, you’re free!”

“Actually, we –”

“Boys!”

Y/n slid into the two’s line of vision. Her pink scrubs not as cheery as her smile. Wilson quickly checked his watch.

“y/n/n, baby, isn’t Lucas waiting.”

“Who’s Lucas? You guys open now?”

“Actually, he gave me a message to give to you two. He told me to invite to lunch, and I quote, ‘your boyfriend and the mean cane guy he’s always with’”.

Wilson beams at how chipper his girlfriend seems at this news.

“Wait, both of us? You two into foursomes now? I mean I respect it.”

Rolling her eyes at House’s comment. She grabs the two by their arms and drags them to the ‘lunch’ room. They stop in the doorway, seeing Lucas who was looking into a gigantic bag of food but who quickly retreated sheepishly when he was caught.

“I retract my previous joke.” House looks down, embarrassed. He goes to approach the boy but is halted by a pressure on his ear as it was held by the smiling paediatrician. She yanks him back to her and harshly whispers “Be. Nice!”.

“Yes ma’am.” Happy with this response, she releases him. She then turns towards her boyfriend. “I even managed to get an order in from that deli. Do you like it?” she fiddles with her fingers nervously.

“Yes. Very much so.”

She skips towards Lucas but is brought back by Wilson’s hands on her waist. They turn so they are nose to nose.

“I love you.” “I love you too.”

Before their lips could touch they are interrupted.

“Ew gross!” they glare towards the bed to see that the juvenile remarks are not coming from the 12-year-old but rather the overgrown 8 year old.

---

The four ate lunch and talked and each managed to bring back a little joy for the bed ridden child. Even House slowly warmed and began to care for the boy. Every so often y/n would get up to check his stats but also to fluff his pillows, bring him his toys and juice. She cared so deeply and wanted every child who passed through her care to feel special and heard.

Wilson sat back and watched the scene unfold, happy to be an observer. And as he watched the woman, he loved be a mother for a child who wasn’t even her own, he couldn’t help but imagine her with their own.

—-

Props to anyone who spots the joke about one of Robert Sean Leonard’s other films ;)

#james wilson x peds!reader #james wilson #dr james wilson x reader #dr james wilson #house x wilson #dr house #house #house md

[solaneceae]

float like a feather, sting like sharp talons

Philza drops by Étoiles' brand new dojo for a friendly sparring session, and ends up getting quite a lot more. Namely existential dread, the thrill of a good hunt, and the comfort of shared trust. @apthotiosis this is a commissioned fic! read on ao3

He whistles, eyes lingering along the thick, wooden support beams and rice paper walls surrounding him. It’s a surprising sight, tucked away in a corner of what he can only describe as a mess of a base, mostly empty, the walls still a rough (and frankly ugly) mix of dirt and cobblestone that hasn’t been cleared out even after six months. “So. That is your dojo.”

Étoiles nods at his side, a big stupid grin on his face. “Do you like it, Phil?” he asks, eager as a pup as little Pomme zooms around the cave in an improv game of tag with Tallulah — ever mindful of how her lag (sorry, asthma) sometimes stalls her in her tracks. He glances at them fondly, silly, eggs, babies. “I do,” he hums, because it is pretty. Especially if you ignore the rest of the cave outside because God, it’s fugly as shit and Étoiles knows it. The plant hybrid smiles, all teeth and gums, and squints with star-filled eyes that always seem to glow despite not working like they used to. Phil still doesn’t get why what was originally a completely harmless veggie plant has evolved to bear such predatory teeth, but he can’t say it doesn’t suit his friend. “He likes it! Let’s gooo, big win for me, big win. I can die happy now.”

“Oh my god, stop. Kristin’s married, you know.”

Étoiles gives him a mock-shove that is more of a real one, because Étoiles never holds back, especially not with Phil. “Oh! Oh, so I can’t be nice to Lady Death? I can’t just visit her because she’s cool and she likes me also? I am married to the grind, Phil, you know me!”

Phil shakes his head, exasperated and fond. “You’re a nerd is what you are. Did you know she calls you her tech support?” Étoiles makes a confused noise. Tallulah peeps in the background, mimicked by Pomme, a chorus of play and yesyes, because all the eggs have picked up on that one by now. (Mimicry is a powerful thing, and the eggs are highly social creatures who thrive on it.)

Phil elaborates, circling the build to assess its structure better. “Because of the sweeping edge bug thing, and Richas’ cancelled death last week. You find the kinks and loopholes in death mechanics better than anyone she knows.”

Étoile beams at that. “That’s so cool. I’m Death tech support!”

“You certainly are. Do you think it’s because you picked Death? In the entity rooms?”

The green-skinned man shrugs, then gasps and takes off running after Pomme to stop her from setting up waterframes everywhere to display obscure anime edits for Tallulah because her internet, her lag Pomme, you’re going to make her void! Phil glances at them (safe, no danger, good) then back at the dojo, running his palm down a beam to feel its grain. It’s smooth, recently stripped of its bark. “Huh,” he says.

He doesn’t understand why his friend chose to build this underground when dojos are usually suited for wind-swept plains or mysterious forests. Then again, Étoiles has never been much for coherent aesthetics. That, and he probably thought it would be more mysterious to hide it under the ground, knowing him. “It’s. Well, very dojo-like,” he walks through dark support beams and onto clean, recently-oiled planks, coming to poke at one of the wooden sticks idly rotating above an altar to send it spinning in the opposite direction. Étoiles trots back to him with an egg under each arm (Play, dad, Pomme warbles. Play, silly, Tallulah beeps from within her cracked shell.) and lets out a guttural noise, visibly bothered by the sticks being out of sync, and it makes Phil snort. Silly. Silly. “Did you build it all by yourself?”

“Yeeaaaah.”

“You’re lying.”

A dramatic gasp. The warrior puts both eggs down to throw his hands in the air. “I’m not lying! Pomme, ma légende, dis-lui.”

Bomp. [me and richas did it. papa helped, very much :DDD]

Étoiles comes to brush his fingers against the red sign, letting the device tucked into his ear translate the written words into spoken ones. He whines, puts a hand over his heart as his ears droop. “Ahhh, trahison. Disgrâce. Tu m’détestes en fait Pomme, c’est ça ? You want me to dig down to bedrock and die forever? Or it’s because I can’t see, so you think I’m shit?”

Bomp. [papa…] Bomp. [t’a pas besoin d’être aveugle pour avoir des goûts douteux en déco :X]

“Okay, okay. I go die in fire then, goodnight.” Then Étoiles pours lava into the cobble floor and stands in it with a huge smile. His body catches on fire immediately, skin quickly shrivelling up and blackening under the heat. Pomme peeps at him loudly and hits him with her scythe, then douses him in water and healing potions — which immediately prompts Étoiles into sparring mode, laughing and hyping his egg up with a string of ‘oh she knows, she knows the play’ and ‘strafing, comboing, keep at it’ as his body heals up. Philza watches the display for a few seconds before getting bored, choosing to walk past the layer of light wood circling the dojo to take a look inside.

It’s even prettier than the outside, with all the paper lanterns and little fountains and bamboo shoots. His geta clack against the wood, then go silent on the woven straw flooring at the center. “Why’re all the posters in Japanese?” he remarks when his friend comes back from his little mock-tantrum with his daughter in tow, squinting at a crude montage explaining the belts system. Philza can gather that it’s based on how much HP the dojo master has left after a duel, because Étoiles has been yapping about making a dojo with that exact system for months now. (Is that a jar of mayo at the top? The hell?) Guess the eggs returning has been the push in motivation he needed to actually commit to that build, despite his insistence that he is very much a builder now, thank you very much, look at all the wool I have.

Étoiles perks up, grins in a way that lets Phil know he’s about to do a bit. “Oh, you don’t know? You don’t know that I’m literally Japanese, Philza?” he chirps, picking up one of the sticks on display before running circles around the other man, poking at his legs playfully. His boots are off, Phil notices. “Speaking of! Shoes off Phil, come on, come on!”

“You literally told me you grew in a field, mate,” Phil laughs, airy and wheezy and light as he evades the attacks. “The little legume who could! In rural France! Where does Japan come into play here?”

“Aaaah, Philza, Philza,” the warrior shakes his head, hitting the other on the shoulder to push him back out and onto the cold cobble floor. “Shoes off I said, it’s a rule. I don’t want shit on my tatami, I already had to clean it up sooo many times with the whole server fucking around in it yesterday. And Japan lives in my warrior’s soul. It’s all that matters.”

“F’course it does,” Phil complies regardless, shimming out of his geta before walking to the little shoe rack in the corner to tuck them inside. “There. Happy?”

“Very. Also, trivia time, culture time: did you know that cucumbers aren’t legumes? They are fruits, Phil! And vegetables don’t actually exist, they’re all either fruits or roots or leaves or flowers...”

Phil stares at him. “...You don’t get to stand there and tell me my avocados are fruits, Étoiles. What the fuck.”

“Umm, they are berries, actually—”

“Oh fuck off and come kill me already.”

“With pleasure, my bro.”

 

Armors come off next, quickly magicked back into inventories. Phil walks up to the altars to pick up his own stick (unenchanted, as plain as it gets) and spots Étoiles off to the side, rolling up his sleeve to check on his insulin levels before rolling it back down. “We eat one gapple each, yes? My sugar is low,” he explains as they both get into position on both ends of the tatami.

“Sounds good. You got yours?”

Étoiles laughs, summoning a golden fruit from his inventory and spinning it over his finger like the insufferable showoff he is. “Always. Autofeed off Phil, no cheating.”

“Alright, you little shit,” Phil summons his own gapple and bites into it with purpose, feeling the warm tingle of magic-saturation in his stomach as the rest of the apple vanishes into thin air with a few golden sparkles. He turns to the eggs, settled on top of diamond blocks they’ve just placed. “Tallulah, do a countdown for us please?”

Signs are placed, one by one, as Pomme hypes them up with Megalovania, perfectly timed with the Pigstep now blasting out of a music box. Bomp, three. Bomp, two. Bomp, one…

Bomp. [GO PAPA PHIL :D]

Étoiles shoots off towards him as soon as the letters show up on the wood, jumping up and swinging his stick down for a crit. Phil dashes to the side, the blow just grazing his shoulder. “Nice cock, Phil!” Étoiles gasps, all sharp teeth and waggling eyebrows, and it takes the avian back enough for the other to get a few hits in. “Motherfucker!” Phil laughs, breaking the combo and pushing the cucumber back with a few crits of his own, adrenaline starting to flood his brain and paint the world in sharp edges and colors. “You little shit! Stop doing that!”

“Do what, Philza? I’m just bantering, just chilling.”

Étoiles’ combat style hasn’t changed despite the blindness, Phil finds — he’s insanely precise and quick on his feet, which is a problem. He decides he won’t be able to outrun or out-speed him, so he elects to block most of his strikes with his own stick instead, relying more on instinct than observation. “He’s blocking, he’s blocking,” the warrior’s voice chants through the flurry of swings and the clack of wood against wood. “Strafing, strafing, he’s the best, he’s the GOAT. Hit me, Phil! Don’t just defend, hit me!”

And dammit, Phil tries pretty hard — but Étoiles is insane and he’s just a little too fast even without speedbridging, just a little too smart with his feints. Phil goes down after two minutes, the last hit clocking him across the temple and sending him to the (thankfully a little soft) floor, ears ringing and white stars dancing across his darkening vision. He wonders if it’s a little like how Étoiles sees the world now. Probably not. “Four hearts, Phil,” Étoiles announces, laying his hands on Phil’s side — the pain fades, the world comes back into focus, and his brain rattles with the doom-doom of revival. He hears fireworks going off, probably Pomme’s. “That’s good, very good. That’s a brown belt! I think you can kill me soon, easy. Again?” the cucumber chirps, offering his hand, and Phil thinks that if Étoiles had his tail it would probably be wagging right now.

He groans in agreement, grasps his friend’s hand and is pulled back on his feet. “Yes. Again.”

Round two goes similarly. “Again.” So does round three. “One more.” After his fourth consequential victory, Étoiles looks pensive, and Phil is getting a tad frustrated — he’s muted his comm for this, as he often does, but he can usher a guess at what Global chat looks like, spammed with his half-death messages and maybe a brief bout of concern from whoever else is online at the moment. “Fuck, man,” he rubs at his neck where a particularly vicious strike has left the skin an angry red, molted with purple. He’ll feel that in the morning, if he doesn’t get a respawn. “I don’t think I can do it. No black belt for me.”

“No, no, you can,” Étoiles insists, circling him — dull, greyed out eyes scanning for something. “I think…”

“Looking for something, king? How’s nebula-me looking?”

“Like the GOAT, you know that. But since you ask, you’re more blue today. With some red.”

“Cool. Wish I could see like you do, for a day.”

“You don’t. It’s pretty, but annoying. It’s harder to make out details inside the, ah…” he mumbles something in barely-legible French. “Je sais pas comment on dit. Les contours. The lines at the limits of a drawing.”

“Outlines?”

“Yes. I see the outlines well, but everything inside is messy. To me everything is just, shapes. And the bigger a thing is, the harder it is for me to understand it. Eggs are easy, because they are small and simple. People are harder.” He waves towards Phil. “Like, I can’t know if you’re smiling or frowning, I have to listen to how your voice sounds.”

“Huh. That’s interesting.”

Étoiles hums, stops at his side. Cocks his head like an attentive dog. “Ah. You should take your backpack off, Phil. It’s slowing you down.”

Oh. Philza shifts, hesitant. “I wear it all the time, it doesn’t nerf me that much.”

“No, I think it can make a difference. Let’s try it?”

Mh. He hadn’t planned on doing this today. Showing his kids had felt right, natural. Showing Fit had required a few deep breaths, but not much else. Étoiles… is a trickier case.

He does want to show him — the french warrior is one of his most trusted friends, and someone he knows he can rely on in a pinch. The guy is loyal to a fault, always looking at Phil like all it would take for him to lay down his life before him was a single word. It’s a bit scary, in a way, and always makes his hindbrain buzz pleasantly. But Phil held things like mutual trust in high regard, and Étoiles had broken that on the first day of Purgatory.

They had talked since then, and it’s clear to Phil now that it had been an honest mistake, a temporary lapse in judgement. Plus, it’s not as if Phil hadn’t lost his own mind within the first twenty-four hours in that red hellscape. Still, even though he has forgiven Étoiles, the cracks don’t feel completely healed just yet. “I don’t know, mate,” he pulls at one of the straps of his backpack self-consciously, feeling its weight pressing his wings tightly against his back. “I can’t get you under four hearts, I doubt taking it off will give me that much more.”

“Phil. Phiiiiil. Trust me?”

Tall order, Phil almost jokes, but refrains. “I do trust you.”

“Then trust what I’m saying. I know my shit, you’re being slowed down, you can’t spin as fast or jump as high with this thing, it’s basic physics. I want you to have all the chance on your side.”

Philza purses his lips, glances to where Tallulah sits off to the side. She jumps to her little feet and places down a sign, while Pomme rummages through her backpack next to her. He can’t help but coo when the bright ‘<3’ shows up in stark white against the magenta wood. “Right. Okay.”

Étoiles can’t see, not normally. So maybe he won’t be able to make them out, bound tightly against his back as they are. And if he does, then that is fine. No need to make a fuss of it. So Philza walks up to Tallulah and drops the black pack next to her, giving her a little headpat in passing. “Watch over that for me, okay?” he smiles at her, and she peeps at him with purpose, jumping on top of it and doing the egg equivalent of puffing up her chest. Pomme is in her own red backpack now, little legs kicking the air as she reaches as deep as she can. silly, egg, baby, egg, he croons. “I’ll be right back. Got a green ass to kick.”

 

“He is back,” Étoiles whoops when he steps onto the tatami. “Oh, he is ready, so ready. Are you full hearts?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. We go on three, one, two, th—”

Phil takes off at the first syllable, and oh, yeah, the lack of weight on his back means he can lean forward more without gravity winning, and that means he reaches Étoiles right as he reaches the end of his three. He thrusts his stick forward, the blunt tip digging itself right into the other’s abdomen with enough force to make him stumble back, winded and sputtering. “Argh—”

Phil doesn’t let him recover, getting a few good hits in before his opponent parries and attempts an upward swing that he barely evades by sending his body backwards, dangerously far. The weapon grazes his chin, and his wings try to open to regain balance but they’re still bound against him. ���Shit—” he steps back quickly, arms pinwheeling, and it looks a little silly but it works, and he does not crash onto his back like an idiot.

Étoiles stares at him from the other side, breathing hard, eyes wide, a palm against his diaphragm. Then he smiles. “Oh. Ohohooo. Okay, now we’re talking. Let’s go.”

Moving more freely doesn’t make the fight easier, not by a long shot, because Étoiles adapts quickly — but it does make it more fun, and that’s already an improvement in Phil’s eyes. He gets less crits in, because jumping up leaves him too exposed to revenge strikes, but he gets more light hits in between sidesteps and mad dashes. “He is so fast!” Étoiles cheers, ducking to dodge a vicious strike to the head. “Oh, he is so good, go Phil go!”

Run, dodge, strike, strafe, dash. Every muscle in Phil’s body strains to keep up as he pushes it past its limits, arm aching from the repeated shocks against the stick, but he barely feels it thanks to the adrenaline flooding his system. A hit to the back of his knee makes him stumble, but he recovers into a roll and trips Étoiles with his stick in retaliation. The cucumber groans, scrambles to get up, and Phil sees an opening right there on his foes’ unprotected throat. He zeroes in on it, takes the first step, raises his weapon and—

 

There’s a jagged shape in his peripheral vision.

 

He falters. Tries not to look at it, tries to keep his eyes on target, target that’s about to get back up, quick, quick, do it. 

 

There’s a purple shape in his peripheral vision.

 

He fails. Sharp angles and eerie glow, that shade he’s come to dread. The amethyst crystals hum out their ethereal song, taunting him. He doesn’t see Étoiles anymore, and his world is drowning in high-pitched static.

 

Purple. Purple everywhere. The room is too dark, too dark, darker yet darker.

Time slows down. No. The edges of his vision are fraying, dark tendrils creeping in. He feels himself falter, adrenaline making way for cortisol and making his hindbrain, no, fly, fly, run, nonono. He’s losing his footing, his grip around the stick growing slack, palms getting clammy. No, no, not now, please. His breathing picks up, faster than it’s been at any point of this duel. The amethysts glow an eerie violet, jagged shapes growing out of the thick, wooden beams around him, and he swears the room has gotten even darker. “Tallu—” He doesn’t make it to the end of the name, because then something smacks him in the back with unrestrained force.

Right on his left ulnare, the wingbone left exposed with no fat or muscle to cushion the blow.

Pain explodes throughout his left wing, the shock propagating all the way into his back and making him yell out, a gasp-screech that is very not human. Tallulah peeps loudly somewhere at the edge of his awareness, papa, no, bad! as he falls to his hands and knees, panic spiking, bad, bad, hurts, getoutgetout—

“Oh merde! Phil, ça va ?” He hears glass breaking, smells melon and gunpowder and something both earthy and spicy — Nether wart. Étoiles is healing him, putting a stop to their duel, and the realisation drags him out of that weird fugue state. “You never made that sound before, I think it’s bad. Are you okay?”

“Amethyst,” the older man growls between clenched teeth, letting the potion effects refill his health bar — fuck. Pain signals were always limited during PvP, but this had somehow broken through the server’s capping function. Étoiles makes a noise of incomprehension, his hands just hovering over Phil’s shoulder, not quite touching. “What?” he says, and Phil hears the patter of little feet rapidly coming closer. Pomme and Lullah.

“Please, just... Can you see the amethyst?”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking, of course his friend can’t see it, because that shit isn’t real. Or at least not to anyone but him. Through the haze he can feel Tallulah’s warm shell bump against his arm, hear her little worried chitters. He doesn’t trust himself to tell her he’s fine.

But then, Étoiles raises an eyebrow and turns his head towards the wall, blinks. A frustrated noise. “Euuuh Pomme, je t’adore hein, mais ça va pas trop avec le reste en fait. Tu peux les retirer steuplait ?” Pomme crouches, one-two, then summons a pickaxe and walks towards the crystals, and proceeds to casually break all of them.

Oh. Her backpack, all her rummaging. She’d been trying to decorate the dojo while they were busy sparring. 

Philza lets out an uneven breath, runs a hand through his hair — his forehead is damp with cold sweat, and it sucks. Okay. Okay. Real, then. Just a really, really bad coincidence. Bad timing. Bad everything. He lets out a breath, the tight coil in his chest slowly loosening. “I’m sorry Pomme,” he gives the little egg a smile that he hopes to the Gods isn’t shaky. “Got distracted by the shiny, you know how it goes. Crow brain go brrrrr.”

Pomme falls dramatically on the floor at that, places a red sign that reads [sorry ;_;] “You’re good, you’re good, don’t worry.” Tallulah places a flower next to Pomme, bomp, [RIP manzanita]. Phil chuckles at their antics, heartbeat slowing down to a more normal pace. Jesus Christ. “You like shiny things, Phil?” Étoiles asks. “Did not know that.” He looks around, scans the dojo for any stray shine. “Mmmh. All good, I think. Sorry about Pomme, she likes amethyst stuff.” Then, quieter, “I think it reminds her of Baghera. She has an amethyst farm in her castle.”

Oh. Phil glances at Pomme, who thankfully seems fully absorbed in a sign-based conversation with Tallulah. “That makes sense. She must miss her a lot.”

(Dad, are you proud of me? I just killed a silverfish.)

“Can I see your wings, Phil?”

And, there it is. The other shoe. Phil lets out a heavy sigh, wincing when the movement makes his joint twinge in lingering pain — he’s pretty sure nothing’s actually broken or sprained, at least not any worse than before, but it still hurts. “So you saw them.”

“No no, I can’t. But I know they are there, somewhere. I’m sorry I hit them, I can’t tell where they are if you don’t have them out. Told you it was annoying.”

Ah. That makes more sense. He doubts Étoiles would voluntarily target them. Still… “How do you know about them? And, why?

“Philza, you need to understand something. And the thing is, I’m really dumb. I want to see them because maybe I can help, if I hurt them. I fix.”

“No you’re not, stop that. And you didn’t do any permanent damage, you’re fine.”

“No, wait. I’m stupid with lore, but I have eyes and ears. Jaiden showed she had wings, pretty sure Baghera has some but she hides them, I assumed you were the same.” Ah. Fair enough. Phil hasn’t been as subtle lately, and the crow jokes could only go for so long before people started to pick up on how literal they were. “Also, Kristin told me.”

Wait, what. “Wait, what?”

“Ye ye. First day of Purgatory, I died a lot.  She said she wanted to exchange fofoca, so I told her about things, and she told me about you because she likes me. Did you know, I asked her if I could get wings too? It made her laugh. I guess tech support is not a high enough position to get flying benefits, sad times for me.”

Mother fucker. It’s hard to be upset when everything that spews out of Étoiles’ chattermouth is so consistently funny. “Well. I would’ve told you sooner than later, anyway. S’fine.”

“So you let me help.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll let you take a look, if that’ll make you feel better about it.”

“Let’s goooo, we got trust. Sit down please?”

Phil snorts and complies. He spots Tallulah running back towards him to climb onto his lap with a quiet warbe. good? Phil warbles back, good, yesyes, and rests his chin on top of his egg’s soft locks of hair. He hears Pomme hitting her dad behind him. “Ouais Pomme ?” Bomp, a short silence. “Badboy est là ? Ah ouaaais. Il veut encore t’exploiter pour ses boutons de l’enfer là ? POV, tu aides le fou du QSMP avec son escape game pour pas qu’il te tue.” More hits, Pomme’s little click-chirps. Étoiles laughs. “Okay, okay, t’inquiètes. Va l’aider, moi et Phil on va parler de trucs chiants de toute façon. Je te vois plus tard ?” The sound of a warpstone going off. “Saluuut.”

“Is Pomme leaving?”

“Yeah, she wants to build stuff with Badboy.”

“Oh god. Please tell me it’s not another find-the-button map.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna spend ten hours finding those fucking things again soon, let’s gooooo. So your wings, who else knows? I bet Fit knows. And your eggs.” Tallulah nods in Phil’s hold.

Étoiles’ lack of big reaction feels nice, but he supposes he should have expected it — the guy never makes a big deal out of anything. Except when it’s about banned materials. Or the Nether. And finding buttons, new trigger unlocked. “Add in pretty much everyone in the original Bolas, king,” he huffs as Étoiles settles behind him. His unseen presence makes a brief shiver of danger, danger go up Phil’s spine. It’s fine. It’s fine, he soothes himself, idly rubbing at the scar at the center of his chest through his robe. “I lost my shit with them around. Stopped caring as much. They saw them on day one.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? Half the people on this shit island are like, creatures. Not humans. Nobody cares. I’m literally a fruit, Phil.”

Phil chokes on his own spit. “Jesus Christ, you have no idea how funny what you just said was.” Tallulah chirps and wiggles in his hold, places a sign. [*side-eyes u*] it says, and that’s somehow even funnier than if she had actual eyes to side-eye people with instead of the blank expanse of her brown-spotted shell.

Étoiles blinks. He cocks his head to the side, in that specific way he does whenever he’s listening to what he calls the ‘voices of the stars’. (Something akin to his crows, from what the older man has been able to gather.) “Oooh. Oh, is it a gay joke Phil? That doesn’t work man, we are on Gay Island, everyone is gay here, or they don’t date at all. And you are incorrect, because I am in the second group, héhé.”

“Didn’t Antoine call you his boyfriend once?”

“He calls me a lot of things.” Étoiles shrugs. ”He’s also an asshole and my DJ partner and my friend and I love him very much, but no, it’s not like that. And I am married to dark metal and dungeons anyway. Now I’m going to unbind your wings and move them around, okay?”

“Mh. Go for it, king.”

To his credit, Étoiles is methodic in his approach — unknotting the binds and carefully tracing the upper edges of his left wing while the other spreads out with difficulty, a few black feathers coming loose. Étoiles lets out a surprised oh, gently grabs the other to help it unfurl, and Phil feels him poking at the bottom of his regrowing primaries — right where the white ones, usually hidden beneath the outer layer unless he spreads them wide, grow in diamond-like spots. “I know this pattern, right there. You have Elytrian code too, Phil? I thought it was just crow.”

“Ah, so Kristin didn’t tell you everything then.”

“No. And she didn’t like, out you, you know. She only told me because she knew I knew, she only confirmed it. People with wings have like, a way they move? I can’t explain it, I just see it.”

“Body language expert Étoiles, ey? Have you known a lot of avians before?”

Étoiles stays quiet for a second. When he speaks again, he sounds perplexed. “Huh. I don’t know. I guess I knew Baghera? Memory stuff, it’s annoying.”

Phil frowns. Right. “You told me a little about your childhood, though. The village, the farmers?”

“Yeah, that’s a thing that came back quickly after the crash. But everything after that, I don’t remember.”

“Man, fuck this island. I’m sorry.”

Étoiles hums. His fingers start combing through his bottom feathers, lingering among the white ones. “I think. I think I went to the End before, Phil.” His voice has gone softer, airy, like he’s not quite anchored in the present. “I think… maybe, I’ve seen Elytrians before.”

“You have?”

“Mmh. I think I killed one. Yeah. And I took its elytra. It was a good fight.”

The revelation doesn’t shock him — Elytrian hunting is a common activity for those who reach the End, and elytras are a highly sought-after item in most worlds. (Philza would know.) “Were you a hunter? Before the island.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t like hunters.” And Phil can’t see Étoile’s face from his position on the floor, but his words are dripping with contempt. “Hunting for yourself is one thing. Making money off it, it feels wrong. And they don’t even fight, they make traps. I don’t like that. If you’re too shit at fighting to win fairly against something, you don’t deserve the loot. Bâtards de merde.”

And Phil laughs, because this he understands. “Ever the honorable warrior, aren’t you Étoiles.”

“Dude, I have so much honor. I told you, I’m literally Japanese.”

“Right.”

“And like I said, I am your arms. I am your sword, Philza Minecraft.”

Phil’s wings fluff up slightly, a croon of ownership-claim threatening to spill out of his chest. Mine. “Étoiles…”

“I am, it’s not a bad thing! Purgatory sucked. I didn’t like it. But it was better at the end, when you were telling me what to do. Who to kill for you.”

Phil croons, leaning back into Étoiles’ careful hands. “I see. You never called me dad though.”

“Fuck that!” Étoiles laughs, bark-like and airy. “That cult leader shit was weird. You’re Philza.” And there’s a quality to the way he says it, something that feels both casual and reverent. “First of his name, GOAT of PvP, Avoider of Lore, greatest man alive—”

“Woah there—”

“—husband and Angel of Lady Death, and father of dragon eggs. You’re not my dad. Why everyone has daddy issues on this shit island?”

Phil snorts. “I don’t know, mate. But I won’t judge. I think it’s fine if seeing me as a father figure brought them comfort. It was literally hell out there.”

Étoiles hums. “Maybe. Also, you didn’t answer my question.” Phil lets out a confused huh. “Earlier, when I asked why you were hiding that you had wings.”

…Shit. Curse Étoiles’ one-track mind, his deflection tactic had been foiled. “It’s not— shit like prejudice I was afraid of, Étoiles,” he admits, quiet and somber. The other man stops his ministrations, fingers dug deep in his primary coverts. “I know this island is a goddamn circus show. Mousey screams she’s a demon to whoever will listen and nobody gives two shits, I don’t know why Bad even bothers pretending he’s not. That’s not the problem. It’s just…” He sighs. ”The Federation has eyes everywhere, man. I feel like if I show them off too much, they’ll fuck them up again. Maybe even worse than last time.”

Étoiles is silent. His motions resume, slower, more careful and deliberate. “The first time, you say,” he eventually hums. There’s something dangerous in his voice. “So it’s because of them, that they are like this? Your wings.”

“Pretty much. Woke up on the train, boom, clipped. No more flying for me. I don’t know why they didn’t do the same to Jaiden, she said she didn’t want to fly, or didn’t know how? I can’t remember too well, but maybe that’s why. Less of a threat. Honestly, I’m just glad they didn’t do it to her. She’s family now.” Even though her loyalties are a point of concern, he couldn’t help it. She is Bolas, she is flock. And he had held her as she screamed out the temporary loss of her shiny blue wings, that first night in Purgatory. “No avian deserves that shit.”

“You don’t either, Phil.”

“I know that.”

“I’m just saying it because you have the voice! The one you use when you think bad things.”

A wry smile. “How dare you call yourself dumb, man. How fucking dare you.”

“It’s what I do! I kill things, I see people’s true souls, and I shit on myself.”

They stay quiet after that. Étoiles stretches out his wings, flexing the joints one at a time, muttering quick apologies when Phil hisses a little too loud. “Sorry, sorry.”

“You’re good. Keep going.” So he does, until Phil no longer feels the pins and needles of blood flooding back into his wings, until the joints no longer feel like rusted cogs. He even gets a little preening in, dislodging matted down and crooked secondaries, and it feels nice. Tallulah is dozing off in his hold, warm and safe. His egg, his baby, his hatchling. “Thanks mate,” Phil hums, a little out of it by the end, hindbrain thrumming pleasantly. Flock, good, yesyes. “You’ve done that before, I can tell.”

“If I have, I don’t remember. Okay, now stand— sorry Tallulah, were you sleeping? Sorry, your dad has to stand so we can see. Yes, nice. Now try them.”

Phil chitters quietly, furling and unfurling his wings experimentally — the constant pain is still there, but minimal, very bearable, and they do feel less stuffy. Lighter. “It actually does, yeah.” Tallulah does a little dance at his side, twirling and playing a few cheery notes on her flute. “Good job, seriously.”

“No probleeeem, Phil, my bro. Last round?”

This guy, I swear. “I’m a little tired,” Phil groans, cracking his neck as he stands, stretches his wings out as far as he can — it still aches, but feels miles better. “But okay. I’m going to put Tallulah to bed real quick, she’s eepy.” Tallulah nods in confirmation, takes out her warpstone right as her papa does. “Then let’s fight, one more time. After that I’m going home and conking the fuck out.”

Étoiles makes a sound that probably means something like ‘holy shit say less king’. “Okay!”

Five minutes later, and he’s warping back to Étoiles’ cave like a man on a mission. And in a way, he is. “Welcome back, worthy challenger,” the cucumber greets him, crossed-legged in the middle of the dojo, and Phil snorts because the music box is blasting Smash Bros music now. “You’re such a fucking nerd, oh my God.”

“It gives me strength, Phil. It’s my final form.” Étoiles gets up, stick already in hand, bouncing on his heels with anticipation. “Autofeed still off?”

“Yup. How’s your sugar?” Étoiles checks his monitor quickly, gives a thumbs up. “Good. No holding back?”

“I never hold back, Phil. Let’s go.”

There is no countdown this time — both opponents slip into quiet assessment, circling each other slowly, slowly. Étoiles does a strange head-tilt, ears flicking to track Phil’s footsteps, the sounds of feathers ruffling. Phil’s eyes do not stray from him, hardened and focused, picking up on the change in the air. Étoiles wants him to go all out. So he will. And he has a plan.

(The bigger a thing is, the harder it is for me to understand it.)

Time to put that to the test, then.

Étoiles charges first this time, quick-footed, swerving at random moments to keep himself a hard-to-track target. Phil almost bursts into incredulous laughter because holy shit, he’s Naruto-running, what the fuck— but manages to keep his focus, waiting until the very last moment to thrust his wings downward with enough force to send him soaring abovehis opponent. Then, right as his feet touch the tatami and right as Étoiles screeches to a stop to spin back towards him

he spreads his wings

wide, wider

casting huge shadows on the four walls of the dojo

and lets his powers roll off of him like a dark mist, sparking with magic and wither-decay.

(The bigger a thing is, the harder it is for me to understand it.)

It’s a gamble, a costly one that saps his Feds-capped magic like crazy — but it pays off, because Étoiles staggers back, confusion etched across his features. His head subtly snaps in all directions, like he doesn’t know where to look, his ears swivelling to try and pinpoint him. Bingo. Phil has made his nebula-self big, toobig for Étoiles, rendering the warrior effectively blind. Well, double-blind.

Phil doesn’t wait for the other to find a counter to this, curls his wings forward then snaps them back — they launch him forward at breakneck speed and create a gust of wind that makes the paper lanterns swing on their hooks, and then Phil is slamming into Étoiles like a literal hurricane.

The plant hybrid gasps, fingers slackening from the sheer strength of the impact — his weapon slips out of his grasp to clatter against the ground and roll out of bounds. His body describes a perfect curve and hits the wooden floor with a loud thud. He barely has the time to blink the dizziness away before something presses against the side of his neck, and he freezes completely. “Gotcha,” Phil preens, looming above him. The end of his stick is right against Étoiles’ pulse point, the threat crystal clear, and he’s a writhing mass of burning stars and cosmic fury.

The energy rolling off of him washes over Étoiles in waves, makes his skin tingle, and he recognizes it as withering. Withering coming from Philza himself, whose outlines are impossible to pinpoint, lost in the cloud of magic and giant Angel wings.

...Okay, this is sick as hell, Étoiles thinks, and he can feel somethingwithin him grow, a presence rejoicing in the back of his mind. Ink bleeds into his eyes, then under it, twin lines of darkness going down his cheeks and neck. (Flashes of a white spiral on a dark expanse, of whispers and stolen Time.) He feels cold, but he feels good about it, and he’s not scared at all — this is fine, more than fine. Withering is harmless for Death-touched things. Things like him and Phil. He laughs, loud and ecstatic, this is fun, so fun! “Aaah. Clever bird, clever Phil, I like. Okay.”

Then something wraps around Phil’s ankle and pulls it forward, breaking his balance and making him hit the ground ass-first with a startled caw. He grits his teeth, shoots a glare towards his leg to see—

—blinks at the sight of a green vine wrapped around his ankle. His eyes trace along its length. He’s seen this before, but only once, months ago. Right after harvesting a freshly-regrown Étoiles out of the ground, a week after his Code-related demise. “Oh,” Philza says, and Étoiles smirks in return.

His tail is long, as long as he is tall, and covered in large, healthy green leaves. It swishes against the tatami in a serpentine motion, the leaves rustling quietly, and Phil notices a half-star-shaped kink at the end of it. It’s... well, it’s pretty adorable actually, but something tells him Étoiles wouldn’t like that descriptor. “You kept it,” he says instead, fight-darkened eyes sparkling with something like kinship-euphoria. “You grew it out.”

“I did, I listened to you. I keep it wrapped around my waist, it works.”

“Told you it could come in handy.”

“You did. You’re always right about things, Philza.” Étoiles steps into a fighting stance, hands curled into fists, tail lashing left and right like a whip. Phil understands, lets out a quiet chuckle as he sends his own weapon flying out of the arena. So they’re doing it this way, huh. More than fine with him. “Nothing’s off the table then,” he hums, hands curling like claws at his sides, sharpening talons glinting ominously in the light of paper lanterns. His friend hums approvingly, and it’s all Phil needs to pounce.

They no longer try to evade, instead crashing into each other to cause as much damage as quickly as possible. Étoiles throws a jab, Phil retaliates with a smack of his wing to destabilise the other before slashing at his chest, tearing at his shirt and drawing the first blood. Because yes, Étoiles bleeds, deep cuts marring his dark green skin, chlorophyll sticking to Phil’s hands. Étoiles hisses, gets behind him and wraps his tail around Phil’s throat to choke him. Phil gasps, coughs, briefly flails before smacking the other with his wings until the tail goes slack. Phil rips it off him and whirls around to pull at it sharply — Étoiles falls, but not before grabbing onto Phil’s robes to pull him down with him.

Things get messy after that — a flurry of feathers and leaves and punches and kicks, one that clocks Phil in the jaw and makes him taste blood, one at the side of his head that makes him see stars. He hisses, screeches, swipes, again and again, and Étoiles blocks some of them with his arms, arms that gain more and more tiger-stripe cuts, but many go through and eat at his health, heart after heart. The warrior retaliates with a headbutt that makes the Angel’s world darken for a second, burning blood getting into his eyes and half-blinding him. Maybe it’s more fair this way, not that it slows him down at all.

They punch, claw, snap their teeth at each other like rabid dogs — chipping at each other’s health with no care, no limits. Dark red and greenish white smear against the straw tatami, but that’s fine, that’s okay, they are playing, they are having fun, and Philza feels alive, alive, alive!

(The whole time, Étoiles never touches his wings. Which goes against the whole ‘nothing off the table’ thing, yet Philza is grateful for it. He’s also grateful none of the eggs are here to see this.)

Philza has no idea how long this lasts, lost in the thrill of a fight the likes of which he hasn’t experienced in decades. But eventually the doom of someone getting downed makes every muscle in his body lock up, and he’s still standing. Or, kneeling over Étoiles with his talons right above his jugular, the other hand pinning the warrior’s hands above his head to keep him from hitting back. Semantics.

Étoiles has gone limp, heaving, his body a canvas of bruises and bloody cuts. “I win,” Phil realizes, wings quivering, all fluffed up in a show of victory. “I… won.”

“Well played, well played,” his warrior wheezes out in response, and Phil’s never seen anyone so happy about getting their shit kicked. Except maybe one person. But he won, Phil won, Étoiles is down and he himself still has… yes, two hearts to spare. He has won. They can stop. Right here. Right now.

But then. Étoiles, stupid and crazy and wonderful Étoiles, tilts his head back to offer him his throat, his binary-scarred face twisted in a feral grin. Philza gasps and leans back a little, eyes wide “Take your win, my bro,” he chirps, happy as can be, tail thumping against the tatami like an overpet cat. Tap, tap, tap, the countdown to his demise if Phil doesn’t up him soon. “Do it. You won’t. No balls, no bolas.”

And those words are the last push Phil needs for his Elytrian code to take over. He bares his teeth, eyes darkening to a pitch black that eats up his entire sclera, until the white of Étoiles’ teeth gets reflected back at him — not that he can see it. 

Phil’s wings spread out behind him, huge and dark and awe-inspiring even in their frayed state, and the withering aura that exudes from them paints Étoiles’ eternal night in bursts of star-speckled purples and reds and blues.

It’s beautiful. And it’s terrifying. Étoiles is about to get killed by an Angel of Death, and he’s never been so goddamn scared and excited in his life.

 

Phil feels insane. He’s going feral, going sicko mode, or whatever other colloquialism that means his mind is drowning in the thrill of hunt, hunt, prey, yesyes. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Étoiles scared before, but there’s no mistaking those too-wide eyes, that subtle tremor in his friend’s wrists as Phil’s hand tightens around them. He can smell it too, like cut grass left to decay in the hot sun, and it’s making the End’s superpredator in him go zoomies inside his skull.

He growls, low and bone-deep and dangerous, his talons pushing harder against the paling, sweat-damp skin of Étoiles’ neck. prey? flock. prey. prey? kill, eat, yesyes. Étoiles isn’t human, but he has something close to a heart, and he bleeds like one — greenish white chlorophyll that smells strong and tastes awful, bitter.

(Phil knows that, because Purgatory happened. More specifically, Bolas happened, gas masks and ritual sacrifices and fresh blood always lingering at the corner of their mouths. He misses his flock — misses all the ones that are still gone, carving cookie-cutter negative shapes in his heart — everything else about that hellscape, not so much anymore. Maybe he’s healing, just a little.)

 

His talons are just a hair away from perforating Étoiles’ jugular, so close to making not-quite-blood pour out like a fountain. But then he freezes, going silent, because the part of him that is still sane recognizes that this is a terrible idea.

It’s a terrible idea because Étoiles is bad at knowing when to stop, bad at spotting the line between what challenges him and what hurts him. And Philza understands that this, this is a bad. The cucumber hybrid is a creature of instants — fugue moments, rash decisions, the kind you would look back on later and go oh, yeah, that was dumb and maybe not worth it. Hence Philza has to be the responsible one, has to ignore his base instincts screeching at him to hunt, kill, kill, lest this ends badly. Like Étoiles getting mauled to death by what is supposed to be his most trusted friend. Again. (They don’t talk about that time. Just like they don’t talk about Étoiles’ betrayal, neither want to reminisce over Phil’s teeth tearing his throat out in the middle of a Hunger disaster. Not-so-fun fact: Étoiles doesn’t taste like cucumber at all.)

“Enabler,” the avian warbles, talons slowly lifting off the hollow of Étoiles’ throat. “M’not killing you.” And Étoiles, like the little shit that he is, has the gallto pout at him. “Why not?”

“Because then I’ll have to regrow your ass in my potato field for a week, you twat.” Also I think it’s not good for you, and my sanity is at an all-time low so I don’t need cold-blooded murder to push me over the edge, he adds in petto.

Étoiles blinks. Huffs out a laugh, something a little unhinged, but also a little relieved. “Ah, yeah! I forgot, because I respawned normally in Purgatory. Okay, you win.” The warrior’s smile softens to something more like him,  and just like that, the tension vanishes, the buzz of fear and aggression replaced by something light and playful. Étoiles baps his hands against his chest, grabbing at his robe to tug him down into a hug.

And Philza’s hindbrain floods the rest of him with happy, happy, yesyes, because Étoiles isn’t really a touchy-feely person and neither is Phil, but this feels right. “GGs,” the crow says back, warbling and chirping like crazy, the black in his eyes receding. yesyes, mine, mine, yesyes, yesyes! And to his surprise, Étoiles responds, not with a crude imitation of his own bird sounds, but with something… different. And Phil’s not sure any word in his vocab could ever describe it accurately — but something deep within him knows that if starlight was a sound, this would certainly be it. “Oh, oh, he is so good. The GOAT, the actual GOAT, best man on the planet Philza Minecraft,” Étoiles mock-sobs against him. “He wakes up in the morning casually being the best, and he takes care of two eggs and says fuck to the president’s office from the wall, and he finally beats me. My legend, Felipe, Felipe!”

Phil shakes from the force of his hilarity — a regular occurrence whenever he hangs around his favourite pickle man for long enough. silly, he warbles between fits of belly-aching, hiccup-inducing laughter, and he leans down to nuzzle against his friend’s mess of dark green hair (leaves?). silly. silly. flock. “I do see Forever wave at me from his office sometimes,” he hums, once he’s calmed down enough to speak again. “He makes kissy faces at me through the glass, so I flip him off.”

Étoiles hums in acceptance, finally pushes Phil back to shimmy out from under him with a small héhé to lay on his back, starfish-style. Phil rolls onto his own back, and they both stare at the interlacing wooden beams of the dojo roof for a little while, basking in the fuzz of a fading adrenaline rush.

(Phil hasn’t seen his favourite Brazilian as much lately. Silly, sun, friend-protector. He probably has his hands full, what with returning to his political duties after so long. Still, Philza worries — he thinks of black tar clinging to sun-kissed skin and tired sienna eyes, above a smile that just doesn’t shine as bright as it used to.) “I kinda like it, though. It’s like our good morning. Never tell him I said that.”

“I wooooon’t, I promise.”

“Thank you. For the fights.” Philza closes his eyes. He is here, he is real, everything about this moment is so real. It’s comforting, a balm on his fraying psyche. “It was fun.”

“It was so fun. Please fight with me again like this sometime, no sticks, yes? You have to come back so I give you your black belt anyway.”

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

“I can hear you smiling, Phil. You want to, I knowww.”

“M’not smiling at all, dumbass.”

Étoiles does that high-pitched hum of his that means he’s not buying it, reaches towards his friend — his leader, his wielder, his death-touched Angel. Cool fingers, untouched by code, playfully trace over each of Philza’s features, feeling out the dimples and the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes — pun very much intended. “You’re so bad at lying, Philza,” he sing-songs, playful and content. “I know you too well. Maybe I can’t see you, but I can see you.”

And goddammit, Philza actually does feel seen in this moment, anxieties melting away for now. How does he do it. How does this reckless, thrill-seeking cucumber man with a limited (albeit pretty good, and improving) grasp on English so consistently drop the most gut-punching lines in this entire server. Étoiles is something else. “...Yeah. I see you too, mate,” Phil breathes out, and the rough texture of the tatami is starting to dig criss-cross patterns into his back, but he wants to stay like this. Just a little longer.

 

(Philza is damaged goods. But so is Étoiles, and so is everyone he knows. But maybe they can both pretend, for a little while.)

#qsmp #qsmp fic #fanfic #philza #étoiles #codebreakers #commission

[blues824]

Request: Hello! I was wondering if I may request a Shinobu Kocho! Reader with Black Butler (Ciel, Sebastian, Alois, Claude, +Undertaker & Snake.) The reader having her personality and hiding behind a cheery facade to hide the anger she holds against demons for killing her sister. maybe also her jealousy towards other people for having a stronger body, wishing she also had stronger body. (+her teasing Ciel)Her swordsmanship skills as well where it’s the reader adding poison to her blade to kill demons (in this case, demons like Sebastian and Claude.) But also having exceptional knowledge in the medical field and being a doctor Since Shinobu is heard to be very beautiful stated by Zenitsu to be able to “make a living on her looks alone.” I think the reader should would also be very beautiful (not like they aren’t already) and to a touch of elegance like a butterfly and just be very graceful and light on her feet. - @mistress-ofpink

This anime was actually the first anime I’ve ever watched. My cousin was scrolling through different streaming sites and we saw it and were like “ThIs LoOkS iNtErEsTiNg” and now I’m here… years later… on Tumblr… making fanfics about it. Also, the Undertaker’s name is Adrian, right? Could have sworn that was it but I’m second-guessing myself.

Thanks for the request, by the way!

Ciel Phantomhive

Mans knew from the get-go that you weren’t happy at all. As a person in political power, he knows a fair amount of politicians who fake a smile towards him and then complain that he’s super young behind his back.

Ciel wouldn’t say he particularly liked demons very much, but he likes them far better than angels. However, there are days where he would like to pair up with you and kill Sebastian for being annoying. 

What he doesn’t appreciate about you is that you like to tease him. A lot. You tease him about being so young and so very short and how his temper was shorter than he was. He has scolded you on multiple occasions about this, but it’s never effective.

He understands your whole “wishing for a stronger body” sentiment. He too wishes he were physically stronger. After all, he has asthma and can’t do much. At least you can actually do something about your wish, Y/N.

You take over as his caretaker because of your extensive medical knowledge. After all, your descendants and siblings all were demon slayers and doctors. You’re also an exceptional swordswoman. You make up for your lack of physical endurance by dipping your blade in poison. He will often take you on missions to assist Sebastian in anything.

Ciel will admit that you are very beautiful. The first time you were called for your expertise in poison, he had his breath taken away. Literally. Mans had an asthma attack because you were so pretty. Then with your knowledge and how you were graceful in everything you did? Mans could have died right there if it weren’t for you helping him out.

Sebastian Michaelis

He also knows that you are very angry. He’s a demon, he can sense emotions. Also, he can read people and he can read you like an open book. He can see the slight strain on your everyday smile and the near-to-snapping glimpse through your cheerful attitude.

He knows of the demon who killed your sister. It is so unfortunate that someone as great as you had to suffer such a terrible loss. He understands that you have gotten a very negative impression of all of demonkind and wishes to convince you that not all demons are… horrible. 

You tend to be a bit of a tease, often pointing out how much he acts like a father to Ciel or how he ‘runs a tight ship’ in the Phantomhive household. Sebastian knows that it’s lighthearted, so he will often tease back. All in good fun.

Sebastian is very strong. He doesn’t really understand the whole “I want a stronger body” thing, but he will be willing to lend an ear as he does his tasks. He will also be willing to give you a workout regiment and make you meals that could get you physically stronger if you so desire.

Like Sebastian is the ‘father’, you take over as the ‘mother’ of the household. You tend to be a bit more on the motherly side. Plus, your medical knowledge is held in high regard around the world. Your skills as a swordswoman aren’t something to laugh at either. You are basically a human version of Sebastian. You always offer your services to the Phantomhive household.

Sebastian knows that you are gorgeous. You’ve had to turn down many suitors because they always want you to quit your work to tend to them and their every need. You are always graceful in your movements and you always hold yourself with great dignity. Even when fighting with a sword, you are always so elegant. You're his beautiful butterfly, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Alois Trancy

I think Alois needed someone like you in his life if I’m being completely honest. While he remains oblivious to your anger, you understand him. You're motherly and nurturing towards him, and he can count on one hand how many people act this way towards him.

From what I can tell, he also despises demons. However, Claude is an exception to his hatred. He hopes that he can make you see him in the same light he does. He always mistreats his staff, but because of you he is starting to understand that that behavior isn’t acceptable.

On his good days, you both tease each other a lot. Of course, it’s nothing harmful. He will often call you his “wifey”, “future wife”, “honey”, or something along those lines. Not only is it a fun nickname, it also allows everyone to know that you are taken. You reciprocate these affections.

I don’t think Alois is strong either, but he doesn’t wish to be stronger because he has Claude to boss around. If he ever sees you sad, he’ll be sad too. Then you have to comfort him even though you are the one who was originally upset.

Alois is always impressed by your knowledge not only as a medical professional, but also as a combatant. He will continuously ask you if you and Claude could perform a jousting skit or something of that sort.

I feel like Alois was sick or something and Claude summoned you to help. The former was taken aback by your beauty and thought he died and went to Heaven because who is this angel?? You were just so graceful and elegant in everything you did in the Trancy Manor. Mans has heart eyes for you.

Claude Faustus

He too also knows of your intense anger and hatred for demons. It was amusing to him how you had to work with the thing you hate most. He sees how your smile falters when he walks into the room behind Alois. The rage behind those kind eyes could battle a demon’s.

Mans is kind of like the demon who killed your older sister. He’s apathetic: every emotion he shows is a facade. However, he wouldn’t do anything like that without a direct order. However, it brings a strange pain to his chest whenever he sees you distance yourself from him. 

The teasing tends to be one-sided. You tease how Claude’s basically standing ‘in loco parentis’ for Alois. Very rarely will he ever oblige you and tease you back. When he does, it will be a nickname to try and get you flustered. 

As a demon, he’s strong. He’s been on fair playing grounds with Sebastian, so yeah. Like the crow demon, Claude will lend an ear if need be. He would also help you train and have the chef prepare meals that could get you to a physically stronger state. 

He appreciates your willingness to help around the Manor. From you, he’s learned how to ‘take it easy’. You often prepare different blends of teas that have different healing properties for the both of you to enjoy in your free time. When you are called away, you will leave him a few notes telling him how to deal with certain medical situations that are most probable to happen.

He finds you to be as soft and gentle as a butterfly. You always seem to flutter around gracefully, and it’s not something he sees everyday. However, you are fleeting like one, being a well-known doctor and all. If he had it his way, you’d have permanent residence at the Trancy Manor. He loves you dearly, and secretly wishes you wouldn’t leave.

Undertaker

Y’all are perfect for each other, I swear. He knows of the anger you keep hidden and manages to bring it out and help you. You both bring out the best in each other. However, he sees your strained smile whenever Sebastian enters the funeral parlor.

He also was the one to reap your sister’s soul. It was rather unfortunate that she had to leave this world at such a young age, but it’s just life. He understands that this is a serious topic, so he will never joke about it.

Teasing is like a competition to the both of you. Who can make the other flustered/annoyed first? You will walk around the building, calling each other ridiculous nicknames. You would tease him about his obsession for the dead, and he would make fun of you for your obsession with insects.

Adrian is pretty strong himself, so he doesn’t understand your insecurity. However, he will be willing to listen to you if you need it. And while it doesn’t seem like it, he grasps onto every word that slips from your mouth as if it was your lifeline.

Your medical knowledge is extensive and very useful in the funeral home. However, you are often called away as a famous doctor. Adrian always has a small pout whenever you tell him that you have to leave for a business trip. When performing an autopsy, you both will often finish each other’s sentences when voicing your observations.

Sometimes, Adrian thinks your beauty is misplaced. It doesn’t belong in a depressing place like a funeral home. He’s grateful that you decide to stick around and even put up a permanent residence in the home. Your kisses are soft but fleeting, much like the butterflies you love to observe. You both are the metaphor for Life and Death.

Snake

Now where have you seen someone like this guy? You are getting serious deja vu from this guy. Nah but seriously he can read you like an open book. He’s glad your anger isn’t directed at him, but you’re still angry and it’s kind of scaring his snakes.

When you tell him about your sister and that her death was the reason for your never ending rage, he and his snakes become a lot more understanding. Webster and Goethe slither around your arm and shoulders as their way of giving you a ‘hug’.

You tend to tease Snake about his shyness, and you make sure he knows that it’s all light-hearted. You would never even think of teasing him about anything he was super insecure about. You would call him endearing nicknames (i.e. Honey, My lovely Snake, etc.) to fluster him. You’d do the same for each of the snakes (who all love you a lot). 

I’d say he’s around average strength, but if you combine his strength with his snakes, then he’s possibly the most underrated character in the series. He can’t do much about your insecurity, but he’s always willing to listen to you if you need to talk.

For your medical practice, this relationship is actually beneficial for the both of you. With Snake’s and Webster’s permission, you will collect a poison sample from the latter and create an antidote in case something happens. The former will admire your concentration and hard work. In exchange, you would do your best to learn how to speak to Snake’s snakes. They will all be super patient with you if you make mistakes. It’s that you’re trying that matters!

The first time Snake laid his eyes upon you, he could have fainted. You were just a blessing in his life and he thanks the stars that you would choose someone like him. Not only do you not judge him, but you admire his scales and you often trace them gently with your finger. Your smile immediately puts him at ease. When he asked you out, he used his actual voice. Mans is committed.

#black butler x reader #black butler #ciel phantomhive x reader #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #alois trancy #alois trancy x reader #claude faustus #claude faustus x reader #undertaker x reader #undertaker #adrian crevan #adiran crevan x reader #black butler snake #snake x reader

[httpfrr2]

So guys...

MY DAD has just got watching Bungou (Because he loves literature (he was always a huge book nerd at heart)) 🩵

So he really can't think of the characters with with original author's name, he thinks calling hot anime boys with IRL author's name sounds weird... (luckily he doesn't know what fan fiction is...) So he either calls them by the main character of their respective novels , for example he sometimes calls dazai, yozo or fyodor, raskolnikov. Or he just comes up with funny nicknames or phrases for the characters... Here are some of them.

Atsushi: The kitty cat with soul crushing trauma

Dazai: The run away egyptian mummy.

Kunikida: WILL die a virgin despite having the best ass know to womankind (Yesss, he literally called kunikida that a few times, it sounds weird in english tbh)

Chuuya: Has not emotionally matured since the age fifteen / anger issues / has a swearing problem / probably popular with the ladies [no that's dazai, dad...] / ginger bread guy / puss in boots

Akutagawa: had an emo phase, still not over it / the asthma dude with a hot sister

Yosano: FINE, she is FINE AS FUCK... (he says she reminds him of my mom... lmao)

Kyouka: The most badass fourteen year old to ever exist

Higuchi: She is a BLONDE and knows how to use a GUN? Akutagawa has no taste, I would've gone crazy...

Gin: Best girl

Tachihara: Suffers from bipolar

Hirotsu: Average mafia baby sitter.

Kenji: Walking talking breathing nightmare (He is so scared of kenji for some reason...)

Fukuchi: Nasty old man / Put this grandpa in a Fucking Nursing House and give his old ass sword to a museum where it truly belongs.

Fyodor: He is to blame for literally EVERYTHING

Nikolai: He is so concerned with the fact that I love nikolai, he was speechless / Murderous bird keeper / A literal kakatoo (Nikolai looks and behaves similar to a kakatoo in his opinion)

Sigma: He needs to adopted into a good family / three year old girl play Uno with a bunch of terrorists

Fukuzawa: Is His Favourite Character...

💙💚💕

He just silently observed the tanizaki siblings...

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd dazai #bsd headcanons #bsd memes #bsd funny #bsd fyodor #bsd sigma #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs dazai #detective agency #Doa

[critter-rarepair-reccs]

Happy Wednesday everyone! Today we have eight fics in modern settings for you all! Have a look at them below the cut and if you end up checking some of them out on ao3, please don’t forget to leave kudos and comments! 🩷

Having Trouble Breathing In by Torchiclove (17,445 words, Teen) Pairing: Keyleth/Pike Trickfoot (Pikeleth) Warnings: None

‘The paramedic would take her breath away, if the asthma hadn’t done it for her.’ Keyleth falls for Pike in a modern AU.

Reccer Says: Enjoyable and well written fic of Keyleth falling for Pike in a modern AU. Explores Keyleth as a character with anxiety and it's a great, gentle depiction of falling in love with great characterisation despite the rare pair.

Live your whole life on a might-have-been by Chrome (2,681 words, Teen) Pairing: Veth Brenatto/Caleb Widogast (Widobrave) Warnings: None

Just a very short and atmospheric peice set in a modern au where Caleb and Veth met at university, and he’s driving her part of the way home for the holidays.

Reccer Says: I can’t describe the feelings this fic gives me. It’s understated and bittersweet and so full of longing that you’ll want to die. It feels like a Hemingway story almost with the way it manages to pack so much meaning in between the words the characters actually say.

And I became hypnotized by freckles and bright eyes by SunshineAndaLittleFlour (1,007 words, Teen) Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidomauk) Warnings: Drunk kissing

Molly didn’t realize he probably shouldn’t be kissing someone else’s partner until after he’d already started doing it.

Reccer Says: This fic, this whole series in fact, is absolutely wonderful! Its fun, flirty and emotional as well as smutty and one of the best stories/series for the purple boys and their ginger partner. Always a delight to read and this fic starts an awesome series off wonderfully!

softly, softly by maricolous (837 words, Teen) Pairing: Fjord/Mollymauk Tealeaf (Fjolly) Warnings: None

Fjord comes home from his shitty retail job to Molly, his roommate-turned-partner. They make out about it.

Reccer Says: It’s very cute and sweet, with a side of what feels Fjolly-typical horniness. It’s a fun little fic!

if we were a movie by burningdarkfire (8,800 words, Teen) Pairing: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett (Beaujes) Warnings: None

Jester decides to try and set Caleb and Essek up and ropes Beau into it. Cue many “friend” double-dates, a classic disaster lesbian Beau crush, attempts at coping with it, delightful romcom nonsense, a fun side of Shadowgast, and a very sweet ending.

Reccer Says: It’s silly, it’s fun, it’s heartfelt. Everyone’s voices are so on-point and every moment Feels like them. Beau is a mess and I love her, I want to squish Jester in my hands, and the wizards are menaces of a side pairing. Also the conversation between Beau and Essek at the maid cafe is so good.

candy hearts (so sweet on you) by thaumasilva (5,149 words, General) Pairing: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett (Beaujes) Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Implied Stalking (not between Beaujes)

Beau keeps visiting the gift wrapping station at the mall to get her Winter’s Crest presents wrapped, and the cute tiefling working there keeps giving her candy hearts with flirty messages, or: Three times Beau wanted to ask Jester out, and the one time she didn’t have to.

Reccer Says: It's just a sweet as the name implies, aaaa it's so cute

Intervention by VioletTeaTime (1,965 words, Teen) Pairing: Fjord/Caleb Widogast (Widofjord) Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Fjord intimidates the guy bothering bartender!Beau’s favorite customer into taking a hint and leaving. Then he gets flirted with and Beau complains about having to watch.

Reccer Says: ace fjord my beloved <3 also the boys' background friendships with Beau are very sweet

all actions and reactions by grayintogreen (2,879 words, General) Pairing: Astrid Beck/Jester Lavorre (Jestrid) Warnings: Depression, Burn-out

One of her friends suffered a breakdown, the other found religion, and now Astrid Beck, suffering from burnout and stress and a myriad of other things a pre-law student can suffer, has found the cherry on her misery sundae. Someone keeps buying all of the cinnamon scones she loves, and now she must end them.

Reccer Says: An amazing translation of the characters into a Modern AU, and surprisingly sweet

Thank you for joining us for our second recc list! All the love to everyone who submitted a fic 🩷 All enclosed recommendations were submitted by the community via our submissions form, which you can find here. All fic information is as it was provided by the reccer, so it may not be accurate to the author’s intent or the precise contents of the fic itself. Please assume good intent from all parties 🩷

Submissions for next week’s list are already open! We’ll be featuring Whump. If you have any you’d like to highlight, you can send them in here. The week after that, the theme is Pre-Relationship, and you can also submit fics for that now!

If you want more rarepair fic, check out @cr-summer-wildflowers and their event collections on ao3! If you want some friendship after all this romance, take a look at @critter-genfic-events and their recc lists! And if you’re interested in everyone’s favorite wizards, you can’t go wrong with the lists at @aeor-is-for-reccing !

Thanks all and have a lovely day/night/timezone! 🩷

#critter rarepair recc lists #pikeleth #widobrave #shadowidomauk #fjolly #beaujes #widofjord #jestrid