#i feel like i just wasn’t exactly Human in a way after coming back alive

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [COME UNBOUND HERE] ❞ — NSFW ; MDNI!

pairing: hotch x fem!bau!reader. summary: “completely self-reliant, you really don’t need me at all, do you?” in which hotch gets completely pussy whipped after seeing you taking down an unsub. content warnings: making out, foul language, sex, unprotected p in v with no mentions of birth control (no breeding kink just lazy writing), sub!hotch if you squint, switch!reader, nipple play, scratching, lip biting, THEY FUCK ALRIGHT. MDNI, this is a 18+ fic. word count: 1.7k a/n: requested by @mischiefmoons and her godsent filthy mind. i donnnt prooof read shiiiit.

aaron wasn’t one to admit to having a type, sure, he knows it’s human nature to look for similar traits when choosing partners throughout life, but he was a romantic at heart  (and a sweet talker at that!), he secretly enjoyed keeping the magic of just love alive, and more than that, he simply adored the way you would roll your eyes and laugh cruelly at him, your palm hitting his arm in a light slap each time he told you his type is you. 

truthfully though, most of that was all talk from his sweet soft spot for you, everyone knew exactly his type. 

he couldn’t help but fall for confidence, every time someone confident and beautiful laughed at his terrible dry jokes he would feel his lungs tighten up, that was definitely one of the first things that made him so drawn to you, the fact you were so funny and incredibly gorgeous resulting in his everlasting love and downright depraved lust for you. 

today though, aaron found out another trait of his ideal type: could easily overpower an unsub before himself could even get to his ankle holster for his gun, before he could even try to protect you. 

your competence was never a question, an ssa like the rest of the team, twice a year having no problem at all in your evaluations. but you were a liaison, you stayed put unless extremely necessary to have the whole team out, your experience level wasn’t the same. 

he did all he could to have your back, even before you started sharing hotel room beds, but hearing the man in front of him whine in pain after you twisted his arm, the sound of at least one of fingers cracking at your strength as you pushed him to the floor… you definitely didn’t need him to have your back, you did it yourself pretty well. 

he’s surely proud, but what floods his mind really, what is now burnt to his brain, what has probably changed his whole body chemistry at his point is the way your body moved to do it, your pants clinging more to your thighs, your breasts moving with your fast heart rate, your open cleavage blouse doing nothing to help his train of thought, nor did the hint of a grin in your lips as the unsub succumbed to your grip, complaining about the pain you were so easily causing. 

focus on the job, focus on the case, he tried hard to while he passed his handcuffs to you, but fuck, how could he when you looked so unbelievebly sexy doing something he has seen so many people do before?

how many times has he licked his lips in the past 20 minutes? he has lost count, but is the only way he has to ignore the way his mouth is drying at how aroused he was about to be if he didn’t control himself. if he didn’t focus on anything else. 

a few meditating breaths and unpleasant thoughts did the work for him, getting his priority back on track: the case was still going as far as he was concerned. it wasn’t done until the bau got back to the hotel. 

his avoidance to you at the precinct, not even catching him glancing as you worked didn’t strike you as odd, you were used to him needing his space and completely unaware of his conscious effort not to think of you. 

it’s a happy surprise when you hear his well known knock on your door not even half an hour after arriving at the hotel, his lips gluing to yours immediately, his hands strong in their hold of your face as he kicks the door closed.

you grin into the kiss, not at all opposed to how famished he seems for you, even though you don’t understand where it came from you more than willingly follow his lead, reaching for his waist under his clothing. the cold of your fingers causes him to whine and you can’t help but take advantage of that to sink your teeth to his lower lip just the way you knew he liked it. 

aaron guides you to the bed, but unlike many times before where he would lay you down, his weight deliciously on top of you, he sits on the edge, the back of his knees touching the mattress, shoes kicked off just before. he pulls you to straddle him, his lips only leaving yours to touch the skin you had exposed: your neck, your cleavage. his hands making sure to sink you harsher on this lap anytime you stopped moving against him even if for a second, his fingers sinking on the flash of your hips. 

you have to ask, you have to know what’s gotten into him (so you might do it more in the future) and he stops his actions to stare at you, eyes dazed with lust, lips swollen from the way your mouth worked his, cheeks flushed pink like it always got when he was hot.

“do you not have any idea of how… alluring you looked today doing all that?” he’s breathless as he speaks, his tongue is back to your neck before you can reply or tease his choice of words. your head falls lightly behind as you try to contain at least some of your whimpers. hotch does no such effort, lucky his mouth is busy as you wet both of your pants with arousal, the feeling of his cock swelling up under you as addictive as ever. 

you pull him closer by his tie, your mouth brushing against his ear before you spoke just so you could feel the way your warm breath made him shiver. 

“all that what?” he doesn’t respond, busy taking your blouse along with your bra off, his sheer force able to break off the clasp without much effort. you force your body onto him, half for the so needed friction your nipples begged for, but mostly to get him to lay down on the bed. “all that what?” you repeat yourself, needing to hear him say it. your hands strongly keeping his on your waist and not an inch up. the sight of your bare tits alone enough to make him try to get more friction from you, unconsciously rutting up. 

“confidently taking a man down with your bare hands, maybe?” aaron’s reply pleases you and you let go of his hands, helping him take his dress shirt, his tie and the annoying white tank top keeping you away from scratching his stomach, “completely self-reliant, you really don’t need me at all, do you?” he says teasingly just as you gasp to the touch of his calloused fingers to your nipples, working both at the same time. 

you could honestly come just from that (and you have before, noticing how sensitive your nipples are has been a gift to him that kept on giving), but you wanted more. you palm him through his slacks, wet from his precum and your own fluids. “wouldn’t say that, i do need you to help me with these,” you point to the bothersome remnants of clothes in the way and he has the audacity to chuckle, as if he wasn’t as desperate as you. “because as soon as we are free of them, i can ride you the way you’re just begging me to.” aaron can’t keep his groans contained, your crude words going straight to his dick in a way only you were able to. it was a mess of fingers unbuttoning, unzipping and hands quickly working to get rid of the slacks and underwear restricting you both. 

he helps lining his cock to your entrance, but not before teasing pressing his tip to your clit, causing you both to moan, you’re as wet as you always are for him, sinking him into you all at once and the whimper leaving aaron’s mouth is just sinful, completely at your mercy. 

you set the pace and he lets you, one hand on your thigh, the other gripping one of your tits in a way he would leave not just marks, but a whole handprint. you loved it, your nails giving his chest crescent moon shaped marks and scratches all around his torso. 

“aaron–ple–put your fingers to work.” you skip the begging, the please, knowing that’s not what he wants today, you’re busy moaning his name as your pace goes to a faster rhythm to say much else, but he obeys, deliciously using one of his thumbs to draw circles over your clit, following your lead, moaning as you clenched around his dick, your wetness loud against his finger and his pelvis. 

you were about to come, the imminence of your orgasm making your toes curl, “fuck me, aaron, hard… and fast.” you manage to say, not wanting to slow down and knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep up. 

it’s like he’s been waiting for it, for your orders, and he turns you around, his weight over you as he follows your words. hard and fast. his own pleasure building up as you helped him prop on your legs up on his shoulder, you felt like you were melting under him, going between grabbing the sheets and his flesh as you squirmed for him. 

the noises are relentless at this point, and if the walls of the hotel are cheap everyone will be able to hear his name leaving your lips like a prayer, his whimpers getting stuck in his throat and the skin to skin slapping as aaron brought you both to orgasm, his cum going inside of you without a question, his forehead touching yours as he drops your leg and fucks deep and slow into you a few more times so you both enjoy the climax as long as possible. 

“fuck, i definitely need you for these as well.” your tone is full of tease, referring to the orgasms he gave you seemingly effortlessly. 

aaron hums, his eyes already closed the minute his body reaches the bed, pulling you to his chest. “then, i shall pretend you like me for more than my body and sleep here tonight.” he’s joking and would sleep cuddling you either way, so you don’t bother replying. 

but god, you love him. you love him. 

#lari writes sometimes #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut

[itoshiexx]

warmth

synopsis: you were satoru's sun, and he loved to bask on your warmth. until your flames died out and you became a cold star.

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader | words: 485 | warnings: angst, character death

notes: just a lil something i wrote while i was sad today. this is probably shit. also i really hope gojo's pic is from the manga, but since i'm not following it up, PLEASE let me know if it isn't!

at a certain point in his life, satoru learned he needed warmth.

perhaps it had always been there; that need growing deep in his core, gnawing at his insides the more his infinity separated him from the rest of the world. he thinks it was somehow inevitable. his abnormal power was lonely in all its forms, and quite literally made him feel cold, nearly shaking his bones. the more he improved his technique, the more he felt like the warmth given by the sun wasn’t enough — because although it passed through his invisible barrier, it never actually reached and penetrated his skin. 

with time, he learned that the only thing that was ever able to satisfy him was the warmth given by another human being. 

that being said, it was no shock satoru’s love language was physical touch. after he met you and his heart inevitably became yours, all he knew how to do was touch you somehow, so that the heat of your body could pass to his. it was the only thing that kept him sane in a world full of curses and the weight of being the strongest sorcerer in the world. it was the only thing that made him feel human, like he was more than just the gojo name and his six eyes. 

his lips were always tracing your shoulders and your neck, feeling your pulse to remind him you were alive. his ears were always glued to your chest, listening to your breathing so that he knew you were there, by his side. his hands always wandered through your waist, your hips, your arms, just taking any opportunity to remember someone, throughout the heavens and the earth, loved him as just satoru, and not whatever else he became due to his heritage. 

you became satoru’s sun, scorching with life amongst too many deaths. the beam of your smile was enough sizzle to bring him back from a dark abyss, giving his life more meaning besides being the honored one. 

your warmness was his lifeline, the one thing he held onto so that he didn’t lose his way. 

but as he would come to learn, love was the greatest curse of all; a beautiful thing that was never meant to last. as fast as the chilling blizzard of winter, one day darkness swallowed his sun whole, wilting its gleam and killing every flame until it was nothing but a big, black sea of nothingness — like it never even shined in the first place. as if its heat wasn’t the only thing keeping him going. as if your existence wasn’t the only thing in this universe worthy of devotion. 

the higher ups said it’s not the end of the world, gojo. but those old geezers couldn’t be more wrong.

for satoru, holding your cold body and no longer feeling your warmth was exactly what the end of the world felt like.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

#jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x gn!reader #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru angst

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

Bit of a late update! Was playing cod lmao

Went into this chapter not knowing what to do with the two idiots, but the moment I put them in a room together, they just start writing themselves...

Also, the formatting on Google Docs decided to fucking change out of nowhere and it really annoyed me.

Price frowns at the three of them, displeasure and concern flitting in his eyes as he examines the state they’re in. Ghost is sure they’re quite the sight. Soap’s head is covered in blood, his eyes red from crying and with a pale skin, he looks like a bad cosplay of a zombie. Ghost is so tense he feels like his bones will snap, his muscles about as cooperative as a stone wall. Gaz is faring better appearance wise, but the Sergeant has been uncharacteristically quiet ever since they landed.

“Well? I assume you’ve found something.” Price squints, still unsure of what he’s supposed to do with his soldiers.

Ghost takes it as a signal for him to begin debrief, and he stands up on shaky legs, muscles screaming in protest, “no intel, two revenants extracted.”

The Captain sighed, clearly hoping for more. The other 2 teams haven’t found anything, the PMC disappearing like it usually does, “any hostiles?”

Now there’s something major they can give Price, “undetermined amount, non-human, sir.”

Price’s attention is caught, the previous frustrations gone, “explain.”

“They don’t have a face, take several headshots to kill, and turn to some sort of smoke when taken out.” Ghost resumes, “they all communicate somehow, the moment one of them spotted Soap, all of them rushed to him.”

Price strokes at his moustache, “I fear we’re not working against a PMC here, boys. This could be the work of one very sneaky revenant.”

Ghost has heard of similar powers in the past - corpse manipulation, illusions, mirroring. None of them exactly fit what they fought, though.

It seems they know even less than what they started with.

“What’s the status on the two revenants?” Price asks.

Ghost looks over at Gaz, who snapped out of his thoughts to answer, “unconscious, both of them. Medics said they’ll wake in a few.”

The Captain nods, “we’ll get them to questioning once they’re up for it. They’re our only lead for now.” he turns to Soap, expression softening a tad, “you solid, son?”

Johnny’s eyebrows raise, and he nods slowly, “aye, it healed already.”

And that means he’s miraculously fine, Ghost internally scoffs. Price obviously heard that, as he says, “take the day off, MacTavish. And get yourself clean, for goodness’ sake, you’re gonna scare a Vaquero to death and Alejandro will hunt me for sport.”

The Scot chuckles, “copy that, Cap”

“That goes for the rest of you muppets, I don’t want to see any of you before the revenants wake up, that clear?”

“Crystal.” Ghost grumbles.

After everyone else exited the room, Ghost made eye contact with Price. “Found a lead on Soap’s Reaping.”

Price’s brows furrowed, “there’s a reason it’s redacted, Simon. I can’t just go around and investigate every military cover up.”

Never stopped any of us…

“I’m trying to keep heat off of you, not endanger you further.” Price crosses his arms.

Ghost huffs, “with all due respect, sir, that’s a load of crap if I ever heard it. You know I’m not gonna forget about it, and I know you’re going to help me in the end.”

They stare at each other for a minute before Price groans, “what do you have for me, Ghost?”

He smirks under the mask. Can always trust Price to come through, “not enough, just a name.”

The Captain raises an eyebrow.

“Konchar. Supposedly, Johnny killed him after he downed his squad, but the Sergeant wasn’t… too coherent at that point.” Soap’s screams still echo in the back of his mind, the way memories have ravaged his Sergeant… it leaves a gaping hole in his chest.

“I’ll talk to Laswell, see what she can do. Don’t be surprised if she finds nothing.”

“I know not to expect good outcomes at this point in life.”

Ghost shuts the door behind him, clocking in a presence on the wall near it. He turns around to find Soap leaning on it, still as bloody as he was in debrief.

“Thought Price ordered you to clean up”, Ghost comes to stand in front of him, trying not to let his Sergeant see just how much his legs are shaking.

Soap gives him a lopsided smile, “decided I look better covered in blood and dust, some people are into that y’know.”

He probably saw Ghost’s unimpressed eyes, because his smile drops, and he looks away for a moment, “wanted to wait fer ye.”

Fuckin’ hell, he hopes Price can’t feel how his chest warmed up like someone lit a firework in his gut, “let’s get you to the showers then, no one is attracted to your stench.”

Johnny pushed off the wall, “I’m sure there’s at least one”

Ghost starts walking besides him, “don’t count on it-”

His left leg decided to give out at that exact moment, and Ghost inhales sharply, fully expecting to have a very up close and personal meeting with the floor, when two hands grab him.

Johnny pulls him back up, “shit, Ghost! Ye didn’t tell me yer fuckin’ broken!” he leads Ghost to lean on the wall.

“I’m not-fuck…” Ghost hisses as his leg muscles convulse, “not injured… Limbo was trying to get you, had to hold it back…”

Flames lick at his biceps, and he wants to close his eyes and indulge in how they relax his aching arms.

Soap doesn’t look convinced, and he gives Ghost a determined look. “Let’s go to yer barrack, closer than the showers.” He wraps Ghost’s arm around his shoulders, and makes him lean on the Scot.

Warmth spreads throughout him, “Johnny, I can fuckin’ walk-”

Soap starts walking, “aye, I saw how that worked fer ye before, haud yer wheesht.”

Ghost retorts, “English, Sergeant.”

“Shut yer mouth and let me help ye.” He takes them slowly to Ghost’s room.

“Much better.”

Soap looks up at him, annoyed, before he breaks character and laughs. It almost distracts Ghost from the pain in his limbs.

Johnny lets him off on the lower bunk bed, and turns around to close the door. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the room when Ghost pats the space beside him.

Soap joins him and Ghost exhales, lowering himself further into the bed. He takes stock of the various degrees of discomfort coursing through his body, and feels his Sergeant shift.

“I’m uh… sorry fer what happened there.” Ghost lifts his head to frown at him.

“You’re sorry for getting shot in the head? Fuckin’ hell Soap-”

Johnny twists his body to face Ghost fully, “fer not recognising ye! For shouting and demanding shit, fer making ye deal with teenage me, Reapers know he was a feckin’ idiot.”

Ghost lifts himself back up to tower over his Sergeant, “you wanted me to leave you alone?”

Soap’s face scrunches up in confusion, but his eyes… they shine brightly with his radiant fire, “I- didn’t want you to… see that.” he breaks eye contact, looking away a little flushed.

“I wouldn’t let you go through that alone, Johnny.” He looks at the familiar flames brighten, “no running away, remember?”

Johnny’s features crumple, and slowly, telegraphing the movement clearly, he places a hand over Ghost’s forearm, moving up and down gently. Ghost is fixated on the motion, his world reducing to the point of contact, the heat it emanates.

“Aye, I remember.” Johnny almost whispers, his face still pained, and Ghost doesn’t understand why. Fuck, he wishes he could read minds like Price. “It’s just… I didn’t want ye to see it… but I think I needed it.” 

Ghost nods, as if he has the capacity to contain everything going through him at the moment.

Johnny finally meets his eyes, “I’ve never met anyone like ye, Simon. Ye make me think I’m human.”

Simon’s heart beats twice as fast at hearing his name whispered like that, and he swallows deep buried confessions, words that should never be let out to the air between them, “you are human.” 

“No. And neither are you. But we could pretend, right?” Johnny gives him a smile, and removes his hand from Simon’s. He wants to chase the heat, but knows better than to try and claim something so luminous such as that.

Simon closes his eyes, as if that would help the temptation, “we could pretend.”

When he opens his eyes again, he notices the stains of red still marring Soap’s head. Simon groans as he stretches towards the side table next to the bed, rummaging through one of the drawers.

Johnny leans in, “what are ye lookin’ fer?”

He grabs the pack of wet wipes and groans again on his way back to his previous position, “bring your face here, Sergeant.”

Johnny raises a brow but follows Simon’s lead. He opens the pack and fishes out a couple wipes, “stay still.”

Simon takes Johnny’s chin and turns his face to the side, bringing the wipe up and cleaning his temples with the same concentration and accuracy he would use in the field to line up a sniper shot. He uses up several, leaving a pile of pale pink wipes on the bed between them, but once the right side is clean he turns Johnny’s head again, observing how he closed his eyes.

He puts too much trust in him, Simon thinks to himself. He can’t help but feel comforted by the fact.

He cleans the left temple, following the small rivers the blood made on Johnny’s cheek. Once he’s done, he takes a few seconds to just… gaze at Johnny. He doesn’t avert his eyes when Johnny’s flutter open, the bright blue completing the vision he is.

They sit in silence for what feels like hours, just looking for the sake of it, just staring because they can. Because they both survived today.

A yawn from Soap breaks the spell they were both trapped in. “You still reek, Sergeant. Get yourself to showers and fuckin’ sleep.” Ghost gathers the used up wipes from the bed.

Soap hesitates, and gets up. “Aye sir. I… thank ye. Fer everything.”

Ghost doesn’t look at him, “don’t mention it.”

The door clicks behind his Sergeant, and Ghost makes to lay down. He’s too fucking exhausted to drag himself to the top bunk.

He settles in, staring up at the bars supporting the mattress above him. For once his mind is calm, his chest is warm, and all he can think about is the phantom feeling of flames caressing his forearm.

Ghost supposes he was dead tired, as he falls asleep more easily than he remembers he was ever capable of. 

He startles awake to the feeling of multiple hands grasping at him, “FUCKIN’-” Ghost jumps away from the bed, watching the hands return to the ground.

He suppresses a shiver while he notes the sun starting to set. Did it really take the bastards of Limbo several hours to try that shit on him?

Maybe his good mood leaked to them. He won’t look a gifting horse in the mouth.

Price’s voice fills his mind, “glad you feel better, Sleeping Beauty. Up and at ‘em, Lieutenant. The revenants woke up.”

Ghost opens the door to see the Captain smoking on a half-spent cigar. “You really have nothing better to do than stand and wait for me to get up?”

Price takes another breath of smoke, “I know when you start waking up, Simon.”

Right, Price probably knows his own brain better than himself.

“That’s for certain. Let’s move.”

When they reach medical, Ghost unfortunately spots Graves out of everyone looking around the beds. The fuck is he searching for?

“Revenants are in the back, behind the curtain. We wait for Soap and Gaz here.” Price informs him privately, before calling the American, “Graves, lost a soldier in medical?”

The man whips his head around, covering a surprised face with a shitty smile, “John! Just making sure none of our forces got hurt in the latest mission.” the bullshit couldn’t smell stronger, Ghost rolls his eyes.

Johnny and Garrick open the doors, and Ghost watches Graves’ face curl into shock for half a second before returning to its usual, easy going smile. Strange tosser, that one. Ghost wouldn’t trust him with a dart gun at his 6.

“Ghost”, Johnny approaches him, and he immediately turns his attention to his Sergeant, “you solid?”

“Affirm” he walks nearer to him, standing at attention.

Price nods to Gaz, probably exchanging a couple of words through his power, and addresses the group, “Vargas and Parra are busy with managing the base, they let us know we can go ahead and speak with the revenants. Keep questions to a minimum, they’re likely still disoriented from the entire ordeal.”

The soldiers nod and walk to the back, staying a step behind the Captain as he slowly moves the curtains to the side.

Ghost analyzes the two sitting in their beds. One man, light brown hair and moustache, fit, dog tags peeking above his hospital gown. Soldier, American, if Ghost had to guess. The other, a woman, instantly locked eyes with the captain, a band holding her long dark brown hair back. Her skin glistens oddly at the setting sun’s light, her brown eyes piercing and alert.

He looks back at Price, and is surprised to see shock over his features. He’s about to ask what’s got him like that when he starts talking.

“Commander Karim?”

The woman’s face relaxes, giving the Captain a sharp nod, “Captain Price. I would prefer if we stopped meeting this way.”

Shoutout to forestshadow-wolf for guessing correctly who the revenants were! I was impressed haha

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod ghost #cod soap #cod gaz #cod price #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #phillip graves #alex keller #farah karim #revenant au #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #cod fic #cod fanfic #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #I love slow burn because like #these fuckers just touch each other in what looks like on the outside a friendly casual way #but inside theyre both dying yearning for each other #my fave book has the main couple only hug right at the end #and i wanted to die from how emotional that moment was #they never say they love each other #so you can tell what im going for here lmao

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ooh, kang x reader where she's trapped in the quantum realm and he finds her, quickly becoming infatuated with her. she's kinda awkward at first but eventually warms up to him, because he's so loving with her and only her. basically strangers to friends to lovers. pleaseeeee.

OMFG IM SO GLAD THAT OTHER PPL LOVE HIM 😭😭 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Stuck

You have absolutely no clue how you ended up in… where ever this was.

You were stuck here, you learned after a while. Until you met someone, or two people.

“Hello…?” You said, as they both stood in front of you.

“You’re human.” One said.

“Uh, yeah.. I don’t know how I got here or where here exactly is.. do you know a way out?”

They both looked at each other and then back to you.

“Nathaniel.” The man said.

“Janet.” The woman said.

They seemed friendly. And they took you back ti their camp with them.

“You’re in the quantum realm. It’s a place without time or space.” The man explained, in easy terms. You don’t know where Janet went, but it didn’t matter. It had seemed like days you’ve been alone, so you didn’t care.

“So what are you guys working on, exactly?”

“We’re working on a way to escape the quantum realm. We’ve been here for a while now.”

———————————-

While Janet and Nathaniel worked, you took a small break. You sat and watched what looked like the sky. It was beautiful, you would admit. You’ve been here for what you assumed was weeks.

You heard someone coming up next to you and you turned your head. It was Nathaniel.

“Hi.” You said, and turned your head back.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He said after a while of silence.

“Yeah. Sometimes.. I don’t know. I just feel like sometimes I don’t wanna go back, Y’Know? Like no one’s waiting for me back there. And here at least I have…” you looked at the ground now.

“You know you can tell me anything.” He said, he brought his hand to your chin and directed your gaze to him.

He knew that you were destined to be together, all of his versions had fallen in love with you. No matter what you looked like or how you acted, no matter how different or how similar each version of you was, no matter if you were dead or alive, they all fell in love with you.

And he couldn’t help but feel the same way. He just hoped that you would understand eventually too, that you both were meant to be together.

“At least here I have you.”

He smiled, and he glanced back. Janet was not looking or paying attention to you guys.

You both leaned in for a slow, and passionate kiss.

———————————

And when Janet betrayed him, and set the place and plans to ruin, he protected you like it was the last thing he’d do. He covered your entire body as you both went flying back.

You didn’t leave him when Janet said he wasn’t who he said he was. You stayed next to him the whole time.

You were really the one meant for him.

If he wasn’t in his weakest form, if he hadn’t just been banished maybe things would have been different and he could have protected you better.

You were still alive, thankfully. You looked up at him and he stroked your hair.

“Don’t worry, love, we will find another way out.”

#kang the conqueror x reader #kang the conqueror #ant man and the wasp quantumania #ant man and the wasp quantumania x reader

[bebeyeyo]

au: vampire!mina

“mina! slow down! you’re faster than me by times 100!” you shout as you and your lover run through the woods.

well, more like you chasing after her because of how much faster she is than you.

“come on! we’re almost there, my love!” she giggles as you continue to follow her.

you grunt from relief as you finally reach where mina is meaning to take you.

you double over, “let me catch my breath…damn.” you pant.

your lover laughs at your misery making you scoff playfully until you look up seeing what was prepared for you.

you see a picnic laid out onto the green grass with lanterns that lit up the area so beautifully, including the fireflies that made you smile as each one lit up, then off

you then look at mina who’s seemingly got a nervous smile on her face.

“mina..this is beautiful! it definitely was worth the near asthma attack.” you sarcastically say as the vampire approaches you with a soft smile.

taking your hand in hers she brings you over to the blanket where you both sit down, and you enjoy every minute that is spent with her.

in fact, this set up is exactly what it was like on your first date.

same time, same exact date type, and a full moon that shines brightly lighting up the sky, and looking at constellations with her.

“do you think whatever or whoever lives in the sky knew that we were destined together?” you ask mina.

she chuckles softly, “maybe. i mean, we both ran into each other for a reason.”

“you didn’t exactly run into me. you just happened to save me from getting killed by another vampire.” you correct your girlfriend.

“and do i regret tearing their head off? no. no i don’t.” she smiles proudly.

“but who knows? i’ve been living for thousands of years, my love. you’ve only been alive for twenty five. my family expected me to marry another vampire lord, but i’m not into the idea of being with someone who has no morals.” she explains.

you look at her confused, “what do you mean? i mean, you and the other girls seem to have some morals set in place for yourselves.”

with a soft sigh mina places a hand on your thighs for comfort, “well, my love, you sometimes forget i wasn’t born this way. i was turned. my humanity still stands within me, although not physically anymore.“

you nod slowly.

“do you ever wish you stayed human?” that was a tough question for mina to answer.

she only shrugs, “i don’t have a yes or no answer for that. it was unexpected for this to happen to me. i’m grateful and don’t like it in some ways. like for one, i’m grateful i turned this way because it means i was able to meet you, and fall in love with you.”

you click your tongue with a playfully roll of your eyes.

“don’t be so cheesy, mina.”

she scoffs, “it’s the truth!”

you giggle before looking back up to the sky once more, not seeing mina shuffling out of your sight since you weren’t paying attention to her.

she took a deep breath in and out as her hands shook from nervousness she felt, but she felt she was ready, and hopefully you were.

as you continue to stare at the sky you see a shooting star go by. you gasp.

“wow! mina! did you see that-”

you cut yourself instantly when you turn your head, seeing mina turned to you holding up a ring. an engagement ring.

you were speechless as your eyes went wide from the shock and excitement that surged through your body.

your lover smiles nervously as she fumbled on her words.

“i’ve never done this before, but as long as i’ve been alive, i’ve never loved someone as much as i love you, y/n. although i’m undead, my heart still beats for you. i know it does. ever since meeting you i know you were the one for me, and i hope i make you feel as happy as i am with you,” mina speaks as she watches tears well in your eyes.

she lets out a shaky breath before speaking up once more, “i want you to be mine, forever.”

she then lets out a shaky, “will you marry me?”

mina’s question was answered when you nod frantically with a whimpered ‘yes’ leaving your lips.

the vampire shakily puts the ring on your finger, a breath of relief leaving her chest before she’s met with your lips crashing onto hers so deeply and passionately.

#darlinggtwice #twice imagines #twice mina x reader #vampire!mina #twice mina #twice mina fluff #mina x reader

[thetimesewers]

Proof that the Professor has been possessed:

His fur is a different colour. His eyes are a different colour. And yet, in the picture, he has his original colour, which means this is not just an updated design, we are supposed to notice the difference.

Also, his satchel. His satchel dropped somewhere else when he fell into the mouth of the dinosaur, and it also wasn’t mentioned in any of the articles Ryan went on. Only the hat and the glasses. So… why does he have his satchel back?

This one might be a reach in the dark, but the Professor mostly lives off of jellybeans and spiders. In fact, the spiders are his main source is protein, so would he actually eat steak? Then again, I guess he does (possibly) eat dolphin meat, so maybe not. And he completely dismissed Sara when she said it was bad for the environment, when I feel like the Professor would take it into consideration.

Also, his voice. Instances I found of his voice going all demonic (just in case there’s any correlation):

YOU LIKE MEAT, RYAN?

*demonic laugh after his ‘Boer-d’ joke*

THE LEARNING HAS BEGUN

You know that algorithm machine is running BETTER THAN EVER THIS SEASON

When he pops up after the first puppet show

WHAT DO YA GOT

What could the deal with the box possibly be? It’s some sort of energy source, obviously… and the Professor is very adamant on not talking about it, and, well… we know that when the Professor chooses not to elaborate on something (i.e. the genie), it can’t be good. He’s so angry when they bring it up, has he ever shouted like that before?

Also, he acts pretty much feral with Ryan. Like, growling at him and trying to bite him. I mean, I get it, I probably would too, but we’ve never seen the Professor be violent, ever. He’s also never had a problem with anyone touching him before, in fact, he encourages people to take a jellybean out of his satchel.

Why does he say it like that? “On account of having to TAKE HUMAN LIFE.” Like, it’s not demonic, but Professor… just chill, please. What the fuck is wrong with you, my man?

His demonic laugh after making that pun. Like, come on, man, what the fuck is wrong with you, sir? And when the question comes up, and he goes “THE LEARNING HAS BEGUN! Ready your quills, my beauties!” WHAT THE FUCK MY (NOT SO) GOOD SIR

What was with the weird, creepy giggle? Professor doesn’t laugh like that… “Well, I’m alive! It feels good!” Sounds exactly like the kinda thing that someone who isn’t alive would say.

“Oh, we got my b-boys out there. I can’t remember what this bit is.” THATS BECAUSE THERE ISNT ONE. THERE IS NO B BOY BIT. HE JUST SAYS B BOYS.

Ryan: “I’m in hell.” A buzzer. The blank screen. Something sus is happening.

The most obvious piece of evidence: the glitch when he says “I guess we don’t have to,” when Ryan doesn’t wanna talk. Possibly something to do with the energy box?

The algorithm machine is “RUNNING BETTER THAN EVER THIS SEASON.” And it’s the only episode where Ryan has won, which means it has most likely been tinkered with to favour Ryan rather than the guest.

What is with the obsession with flesh? “Supple… life-defining… flesh.” Professor… you don’t eat flesh. You eat jellybeans, spiders, and possibly dolphin meat, but he’s getting a little weird here with his obsession for meat/flesh. And again, when talking about meat alternatives. The way he says “fleshier” is just… just weird.

Avoiding the question of “are you a ghost?” with “What kind of question is that? Come on.”

Okay, again, I’m not too sure about this one, but right before the first puppet show, when the curtain’s down, you can hear “where’s his fucking people?” Not “my” people, but “his” people, meaning that it’s someone else referring to the Professor. This is most likely just Shane honestly, having gotten used to calling them the Professor’s puppets, but I thought it was worth noting down.

After asking about why hippo meat didn’t take off, the noise he makes almost sounds like he’s deflating or powering down, so to speak. And he makes the same sound when he comes back up, so I think it’s definitely something to do with the box. I just don’t know what yet.

When he brings the guy up (Captain Claude), and he says: “But a word of warning. Not everything on this stage is as it seems,” combined with the fact that this is a guy who, a) faked his own death and b) pretended to be someone else. It’s obvious he’s talking about “the Professor”. But then again, it’s the Professor doing the voices, so does that make sense? Probably not, but it’s some form of evidence, so I’m sticking with it.

When going over the kinda summary thing, there’s an image of the Professor about to eat something. They lift up the lid and the flag says “100% Grade A Puppet Meat”, and he looks into the camera. This just adds more depth to his whole weird obsession with flesh.

It’s very strange how there’s just suddenly no trophies (especially when the Devil says in the last episode that the Professor buys those things in bull, suggesting he has a lot of them backstage), but instead a moisturiser. A very random object. The Professor is very adamant on him using it, and linking back to my earlier theory of the algorithm being rigged to let Ryan win, I think there’s a reason for it.

This one isn’t linked to any evidence for possessed!Professor at all, but I just noticed that the logo for ScienceSimp is one of the Bye Bye Brothers.

One of the tabs that Ryan has open is “Puppet Necromancy” and “Time Travel Methods” (as well as something about Nighttime Dan — again, unrelated, but I love that little detail). I think perhaps we could get an episode about the dinosaurs, based on the fact that there’s an article on it. There’s also an article about hologram technology — something to do with the Professor? Maybe he’s not possessed, but just a real weird hologram (like in the Holiday Spectacular)? I am genuinely very interested in this little insight to the going-ons in the WCU (like a Joker being elected Pope).

The genie lamp is surrounded by jellybeans. I don’t know what the implications of that are, but… it’s weird. “This breathtaking lamp will make a stunning addition to any home, no matter how drab. This piece was among many rare antiquities recently auctioned off at a local estate sale seemingly managed by the devil and a three-headed demon.” This means that the Devil, Asmodeus, or the Genie can’t possibly be possessing the Professor. But, why are the selling the lamp? With the genie presumably inside? It’s also worth noting that it says Ryan placed a $15 bid on it, while this “Connie M.” bids $5,500 on it — it seems like this Connie really wants that lamp, and she’s been at it for a while “oh, fucking Connie, again).

You can see that one of the professors (the one that moves) is different from the others, clearly standing out. But his colour seems to match the other toys (which are the original colour of the Professor).

That’s pretty much all I could pick out. I have never analysed anything so deeply before, and I can’t wait to do this every week. But yeah, I think there’s definitely something going on with the Professor, but I don’t know if it’s possession, since the Devil and Asmodeus sold the lamp. The hologram theory kinda makes sense, but I’m gonna wait until we have more info to develop that one any further.

#puppet history #puppet history spoilers #I need a name for this series #Professor the Possessed #yeah I like that #I feel like my English lit student energy really came out here

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library 🌚 Supernatural Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

🦇 domestic monsters (series) by @g-uttertrash {E, 234k}

Harry is a witch from a long line of power, an ancient line that’s one of the strongest left alive in their hemisphere. He can cast spells without a word if need be, fly on a broomstick, and has a black cat (a kitten, really) named Felix that is his animal familiar. He can shape galaxies in his cupped hands and can destroy them just as easily. He can choose exactly how to use his power, for encouragement and support, or for more nefarious causes if he wishes to.

And as fate would have it, he’s scared of haunted houses.

(Harry is a witch who carries around a stuffed pumpkin, Louis is a vampire with too much time on his hands, and their best mates Zayn & Niall aren't exactly what they seem...)

🦇 Collision by itjustkindahappened / @tequiladimples {E, 226k}

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

🦇 Run Like the Devil by benzos / @churchrat {E, 139k}

Harry stops pouting, but his frown is still fixed in place. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You know it’s your soul you’re signing away.” He sounds…sad? No, that’s not right, but there’s something.

Christ. This is the most incompetent demon Louis’ ever met. If he hadn’t seen the red of his eyes he wouldn’t believe he was a demon at all. How’d he get this job if he isn’t trying to convince Louis to deal? Or is it just another trick? A ploy for sympathy?

“I’m sure,” Louis says. “Come over here and kiss me.”

Supernatural AU. Louis hunts demons; Harry's the strangest demon he's ever met, and he keeps fucking meeting him.

🦇 House of The Rising Sun by @itsmotivatingcara {M, 101k}

“It wasn’t me.” Louis said after they’d walked a block in silence, Harry glanced over in surprise but this time Louis didn’t meet his eyes, instead looking ahead. The moonlight cast shadows under his striking cheekbones, and not for the first time, Harry thought he was eerily beautiful - though immortality would likely have a hand in that. “It was supposed to be, but I got caught up in something else.”

“Something more important than murdering a witch” Harry snarked, “Will wonders never cease.”

He felt Louis’ irritation before he spoke again, “Careful, little lamb.” He murmured.

Little lamb.

Harry despised the nickname Louis had given him when they’d first met nine months prior. Little Lamb to the slaughter, Louis had said mockingly.

Or The Originals AU that no one asked for.

🦇 Black with Autumn Rain by whimsicule {T, 93k}

“Thank you,” Geoff says, taking a sip of his tea. “What did you tell him?”

Louis has a sip as well, lets the tea burn down his throat too quickly, too hot, and he feels it all the way down to his stomach. “The truth. Essentially,” he replies after a moment, licking his lips, relishing the slightly bitter taste of the brew that’s never quite strong enough for Louis’ liking. At least it’s not decaf. “That my dog scented it. That I didn’t touch the body. That I came here first thing.”

Geoff nods pensively. “Did he believe you?”

“Probably not. There’s only so many people who can drown on dry land before it gets fishy.”

or: Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren't exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

🦇 The Devil In My Brain by @princesshalo {E, 74k}

“Jesus Christ!” Louis yells as he jumps back in reaction to Harry once again popping up out of nowhere.

Harry doesn’t even flinch.

“Quite the opposite.” He jokes, holding out one of the drinks for Louis to take. A freshly sizzling vodka Red Bull; his favorite.

Louis’s initial reaction is the thought you remembered.

His rational brain says, “No thanks.”

“Louis.” Harry says it like a concerned parent, the tone of it matching the way his mum used to say Boo Bear, you have to eat your vegetables to grow up big and strong, and that ignites something feral within him.

“Satan.” He counters, same tone coupled with a glare and a pair of arms crossed over his chest.

Louis used to be good friends with Harry, until he woke up alone and immortal with no one to blame but The Devil himself.

🦇 Tied to Fate by @littlelouishiccups {E, 52k}

After his estranged father’s death, Harry inherits a castle in England that has belonged to his family for generations and he knows nothing about. When he breaks up with his boyfriend, Harry decides England is the perfect place for a small vacation. He isn’t prepared to meet Louis Tomlinson, a ghost who once lived in the castle and has haunted it for over five hundred years. He’s even more unprepared to fall in love with him.

🦇 we should open up (before it's all too much) by @disgruntledkittenface {M, 43k}

“I’m not–” Harry breaks off, his voice strangled as he clutches his phone in his hand. He takes a breath and looks up, trying to keep the tears threatening to spill over at bay. “Louis, I’m not very good company these days. I–”

“Harry,” Louis interrupts, his raspy voice soft and soothing. “I get it. Sometimes it’s just easier to be alone, yeah?”

Harry nods, blinking back the last of his tears.

“But it can get lonely,” Louis states. Harry nods again even though it wasn’t a question, finally looking back at him. “So why don’t we try being alone, together?”

Struggling with grieving and depression since his dad died, Harry has never felt so alone. It’s too much to cope with on his own, but he feels like a burden when he tries to open up with people.

Then he meets Louis.

🦇 The Haunting of Louis Tomlinson by @helloamhere {T, 31k}

“I'm not afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

Every single magnet unstuck itself from the fridge and fell to the floor in a clattering cascade.

“I'm only a little afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

OR: Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

🦇 Where the World has Come Together by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {M, 26k}

For the crime of elven blood running through his veins, Louis Tomlinson spends his days protecting the human kingdom he’s been cast out of. Forcibly tied by magic to the very walls that encircle the city, he and the other guards do what they can to find some semblance of a life.

Then, against Louis’ wishes, someone new is added to their number. How is he supposed to share living quarters with a monster?

🦇 The Blood of Love by @mugglemirror {E, 25k}

Harry is a nurse and Louis is a painting worth more than a thousand words. As desire and darkness encompasses him, Harry has to learn the secrets of Thorne Hills manor before he succumbs to the mystery that surrounds him.

🦇 Campus Creatures by @kingsofeverything , YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {E, 25k}

It’s senior year for werewolf Louis Tomlinson and vampire Harry Styles, and as presidents of their respective fraternities, they’re determined to do it right.

Though what that means is anybody’s guess.

🦇 In the Strangest of Ways by SunTomato / @sun-tomato {NR, 17k}

Louis Tomlinson is a historian with English Heritage, specialised local history and folklore. When he is hired to research the origins of a mysterious music sheet, he soon finds he’s not the only one at the manor; a dark presence keeps following him around. The more time he spends at the historic site, the clearer it becomes that something tragic happened here. And when the haunting sounds of a melancholy piano piece accompanied by the vague shadow of a beautiful male figure appear, Louis is determined to find out who this beautiful man was and what happened to him…

🦇 it's time to find your wings again by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed {T, 12k}

The first reports are dismissed, as tall tales or folklore. As mental illness, poor Bathilda, she’d gone loopy. As people simply getting scared in the dark woods and seeing things, making things up. Magic isn’t real. Mythological creatures aren't real.

But then the first one is caught. A faun, that little Meg from around the corner swears has attacked her in the woods, and everyone comes to the marketplace to see the faun be hanged for its crimes. Louis doesn’t want to go, but at the same time, he finds himself unable to stay away. Not when this proves what he’s wanted to believe all along, that magic is real.

Louis is twenty when he starts working at the prison. His fascination for supernatural creatures had turned into something most closely resembling loathing over the years, due to the many stories of their evildoing, and although he still doesn’t believe in hanging them for their crimes, he does believe in keeping the town safe. In making sure that his siblings get to grow up without fear of being kidnapped or hurt. As the oldest son, it feels like his duty to make sure that no creature in the wide area will ever pose a threat to anyone.

🦇 Far Afield by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {T, 11k}

Harry Styles is a witch who owns the best flower shop in Manchester. Lottie Tomlinson is planning her wedding, and brings her brother along to her first appointment. Both men have been having a bad day and sparks fly.

🦇 Just Your Jinx by @larryatendoftheday {T, 10k}

Harry Styles may or may not have accidentally jinxed his extremely fit new neighbor, and it's not so easy to make things right.

🦇 Babe, There's Something Lonesome About You by patdkitten / @babyarcanacasey {M, 8k}

Louis is a hedge witch, who lives a lonely, solitary life. He's quite happy with his shop in Door County, selling New Age magics to the tourists. He also has his cats and his birds to keep him company. But his best friend Liam thinks he needs someone around, and he's got just the person: Liam's friend Harry is coming to the area for the tourist season and since Louis has all this space....

🦇 Somethin' Old and Red by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {NR, 5k}

There was a ritual with these things. He’d pour a splash into a wine glass —his favourite little joke was telling humans he loved a nice glass of red every now and again— then sat down in his living room and listened to music while he drank. Every time he changed the record —or, what was it they called them nowadays? 8tracks? MP3s? Playlists? It was difficult for Harry to keep up with the technology, especially as much as things had changed over the last few decades— he would change the music before refilling the glass. He liked to savour his meals. He could get at least two evenings out of a bag that way, which worked very well for Harry’s schedule. His wine glass was in front of him on the counter, and he was ready to pour.

🦇 The Hidden Hills Restaurant by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose {E, 4k}

“Are you sure you want to hear about this? Wouldn’t you rather hear about what I’ll do to you? How often? How long? How many fin—“

“I like to get to know my potential clients before agreeing to anything,” Louis says and lays down the menu. He’s thinking of steak. Something meaty, juicy, and hearty.

Harry’s arched eyebrow at the word ‘potential’ doesn’t escape Louis’ notice.

or the one where Louis is a personal feeder and Harry is the vampire to be his next client

🦇 Rapture by @allwaswell16 {E, 3k}

It was New Year's Eve in Victorian London, and a lonely vampire could no longer resist the stunning lamplighter he watched night after night.

Or, a vampire Harry fic because what says the holidays like Victorian vampires?

🦇 Just a little taste by @lunarheslwt {G, 3k}

“Little dove,” Louis crooned, making Harry shiver a little, affected, “you’re shaking. Do you want to bite?” Harry stilled. He knew what Louis was asking. He knew Louis probably could sense how in dire need of comfort he was. He knew Louis was offering. And yet- “No,” he whispered, even as he felt the strong urge to let his lips trace the well-known path to the spot he usually bit into, “I could hurt you.” “Harry, my darling, you haven’t hurt me once in the numerous times you’ve needed to bite. Today will be no different. You know it’ll do you good.” Harry sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, torn. In the end, it was an offer he was too weak to resist. “So…do you want to? Little taste?” “Yeah,” Harry rasped out, “please.”

Or, Harry is a vampire that comes home one night, grappling with the darkness that comes with being one. Louis offers him unwavering love, acceptance and the one thing he needs but is reluctant to ask for; permission to bite for the sake of comfort and safety seeking.

#ficrec #supernatural #hlcreators #hljournal #trackinghappily #trackinghome #1dficvillage #lunarheslwt #allwaswell16 #amomentoflove #nonsensedarling #patdkitten #larryatendoftheday #quickedween #wearethesame #disgruntledkittenface #itsmotivatingcara #benzos #whimsicule #itjustkindahappened #guttertrash #littlelouishiccups #suntomato #yesisaworld #kingsofeverything #mugglemirror #ladylondonderry #helloamhere #princesshalo

[zeke-in-devildom]

Dissonance - Chapter 7: Involuntary Self-care

One moment Zeke had closed his eyes, and the next thing he knew someone was gently shaking his shoulder. He was so warm and comfortable that he did little more than groan and turn his face further into the pillow. There was a warm body still snuggled against his back. That had to be Belphie. He should have been more upset about a demon he barely knew demanding cuddles, but it wasn’t just that Belphie was physically warm. The auras of Beel and Belphie were so warm, so welcoming, that it was hard not to want to let himself absolutely melt into their collective space. He had almost lulled himself back into sleep.

“Dinner is almost ready. You have to eat.” Beel gently nudged him again. “Belphie you too, it’s time to wake up.”

He felt his clingy nap inducer heave a great sigh before uncoiling from around his torso, finally letting Zeke move freely again. When he groggily threw the comforter off him and swung his legs over the edge of the bed he realized that his boots were no longer on his feet. Someone had removed them and set them neatly beside the bed. Belphie’s boots were next to his. That must have been Beel’s doing. Taking a moment to rub the sleep out of his eyes, he couldn’t help but notice how chilly it was now that he wasn’t snuggled under the blankets with his own living space heater. 

The house wasn’t as cold as outside, but it wasn’t warm either. It was probably hard to keep an old Gothic mansion like this heated properly. He could only imagine how drafty it might be. Come to think of it, most of the brothers had been wearing some kind of jacket, coat, or hoodie when he saw them earlier. Zeke wished he still had Lucifer’s coat, he’d lost it at some point when Belphie dragged him inside.

“You can go ahead. I’ll be just a few minutes.” Zeke shoved his feet back into his boots and laced them up. Everyone else was wearing their shoes inside, so he figured it was fine if he did too. They didn’t help much with his feet being cold. He’d have to wear thicker socks from now on.

“Mm. Okay, but hurry.” Beel’s stomach made a sound that seemed more like something you’d hear a bear make than someone that looked human. Well, mostly human, Zeke could still see the flickers of demonic features, and they all had inhuman colorations. 

“I will.” Yes, best to hurry. Demons ate humans, and while Beel had been nothing but a total teddy bear since he’d arrived, Zeke didn’t really want to test how far his restraint actually went. It would be extremely lame to die on his very first day, after all. Not to mention being eaten alive seemed like a terribly painful way to go.

Beel gathered Belphie in his arms to carry him to dinner - he was pretty sure the sloth demon had fallen back asleep while sitting up and putting his boots on. Once they left he grabbed a simple black pullover from his closet and then went to his bathroom to quickly wash his face, hands, and use the enormous mirror over the sink to tame his unruly mop of dark hair. He didn’t care deeply about his looks, but he did want to look somewhat put together for his first dinner with the demons. 

Satisfied that he was presentable, he hurried into the hall. They had said his room was right next to the kitchen, and he could certainly smell something appetizing. Zeke couldn’t say what exactly it could be, but if the way his mouth had started watering was anything to go by, it was going to be good. He wondered how different Devildom food was from what he was used to. Only one way to find out.

It would have been easy to find the dining room, all he would have needed to do was follow where he could feel Beel and Belphie. However he felt another demon approaching from the hallway that led to the entrance hall. 

“Right this way~” Zeke barely had time to see Asmo before the demon had sidled up to him and linked their arms together with a heart-stopping grin. Once again he was struck by the fact that Asmo was dangerously pretty. He bet the Avatar of Lust was a real heartbreaker. Although he felt swirls of lust from Asmo as he was once more dragged to a destination, more than anything he felt concern and excitement. It seemed to be a recurring theme with the brothers. He would have to explore that thought more deeply later.

Asmo guided him into an enormous dining room - no, this was more like a dining hall - overflowing with a skull motive. Everything about the architecture and decor that Zeke had seen so far in both the House of Lamentation and what little he’d seen of RAD was very Gothic. He could appreciate that. 

Beel and Belphie were already seated, a space open between them. At first he’d thought the sloth demon was asleep, but he raised his head as they entered.

“We saved you a seat. Sit here.” Belphie patted the seat beside him, and Zeke didn’t really have any objection to sitting between them. So far they had been fairly good company, even if Belphie was a bit pushy. Someone had other ideas it seemed.

“No way, you’ve totally hogged this cutie long enough. He’s going to sit beside me and after dinner we’re going to have a relaxing spa session. I spent all afternoon picking out the best, human-safe products to get our darling human looking his very best.” Asmo dragged him to the opposite side of the table and pushed him down into the middle seat before sitting next to him. Getting pushed around by the demons was going to get old really fast, he could already tell.

“Hey, Asmo, I’m sure that your spa thing is great, it’s not really something I’ve ever done or been into.” He noticed Beel changed seats so that he sat next to Belphie now. It was sweet just how close they were.

“Nonsense darling! Self-care is important and you had a very stressful day. Plus just look at your nails.” The demon grabbed his hands and pulled them up, showing his very much chewed fingernails. “Biting your nails is terrible for both them and your teeth. You leave it to me, hon. I’ll pamper you until you can’t stand it~”

“Sure?” Zeke did not, in fact, sound sure at all.

The other brothers began filing into the dining room. Mammon came in and immediately booked it to take the seat on Zeke’s other side, so now he was between Greed and Lust. Asmo seemed a bit more flirty than he was used to dealing with, but the flamboyant demon was nice. Mammon had been kind of rude to him, and frankly he wasn’t totally over being called broken. Levi was next and took the other side of Mammon. He was playing on his phone and barely paying attention. 

That was a mood.

Lucifer came in, assessed the seating arrangement with a frown, but moved to take his place at the head of the table without commenting. Zeke had the feeling that he’d really wanted him to be in one of the seats beside him. Lucifer’s clingy, overprotectiveness was probably going to have to be addressed sooner rather than later.

Satan came in from a door that attached to the kitchen, wheeling an enormous cart piled high with food that had Beel actually drooling. Platters of what seemed to be some kind of roasted meat with an assortment of vegetables he couldn’t even begin to identify were set in the center of the long table.

“I made sure everything was safe for human consumption. We’ll only be serving food that you can eat at meals.” Satan seemed calm on the surface, but Zeke could sense that he was nervous about the meal.

“Everything smells great, Satan. Thanks.” The demon smiled as he took his seat, but was still somewhat tense. He wondered if Satan was still worried about earlier.

There wasn’t a lot of talk as everyone hurried to fill their plates, and Zeke could see why as he saw how much food Beel was shoveling into his mouth and onto his plate simultaneously. He supposed that was Gluttony at work. While he was busy observing the vibe of everyone, Asmo and Mammon had worked together to pile Zeke’s plate with slices of meat, a sampling of each side dish, and a couple rolls. It seemed like a lot of food to him, but he just smiled at both.

Seeing as Beel was helping himself already and nobody else seemed to be holding back, Zeke took his first bite of roast. The flavors absolutely exploded on his tongue, the meat was so tender it practically melted in his mouth and the heat of the spices had his mouth burning and tingling. It was more intense than he was used to, normally eating fairly savory food. He definitely didn’t hate it. So focused on getting his first taste of Devildom cuisine, he hadn’t realized that everyone was subtly watching him. Satan still looked nervous. Now he knew why he was still tense. It was kind of sweet that they were all worried about if he’d like the food.

“It tastes as good as it smells. You’re a really good cook.” He gave Satan a genuine smile, and the expression was returned. Everyone relaxed and dinner continued without further interruption. Lucifer did have to chastise Levi for playing on his phone at the table, and there was some small talk, it seemed like gossip from school that Zeke wasn’t much interested in. He was happy to simply eat in silence, observing his new house mates.

At least until Lucifer finished eating and addressed him directly.

“How are you feeling? I spoke with Lord Diavolo earlier. Originally we intended for you to begin classes tomorrow, however in light of this morning's events, we agreed that you could start the day after tomorrow instead if you needed more time to fully recover.” It was a generous offer. They must have been taking the exchange student’s health very seriously.

“I feel great, actually. Normally I’d be less than thrilled to be forced to go back to school, but with classes like Potions, Curses and Hexes, and Devildom Botany I’m actually really looking forward to it.” He was less excited about Seductive Speechcraft and Devildom Law, and it seemed like math, history, and art classes would haunt him no matter the realm, but it was still a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Only one other human was attending RAD as far as he knew.

“Very good, then I will let Lord Diavolo know. I will also take the opportunity to lay out some ground rules you will abide by while living here. There is a chore and cooking duty rotation. Starting next week you will be added to it. There is a curfew at midnight. For you specifically, you are never to leave the house unaccompanied by at least one of us. That is for your protection. My brothers and I can be trusted with your safety, but you are a human and plenty of lower demons will find it difficult to resist the temptation of a human soul. Especially a soul as pure and shiny as yours.” His soul was pure and shiny? That was news to him. Why would it be like that? He didn’t consider himself a particularly good person or anything.

“All that seems fair enough. I’m not used to needing an escort everywhere I go, but I don’t want to get eaten so I’ll learn to live with it. Sorry again for the hassle, I know you all probably have better things to do than babysit me.” He was curious about everything the Devildom had to offer, but he hated relying on others. Hopefully he could just tag along when one of the brothers was going to something he found interesting. At least that way he wasn’t nagging them to take him sight-seeing.

“Don’t be silly~” Asmo cooed at him. “We’re all more than happy to have you here. Ooooh, we’re going to have so much fun! I can’t wait to take you shopping. Majolish is the place to fill your wardrobe!” 

The others seemed to have finished eating and took Asmo’s shopping talk as their cue to escape while they still could. Even the overzealously protective Lucifer had ditched him!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later Zeke was reconsidering this whole spa session thing. Whatever herbs and oils Asmo had put in the bath he’d drawn him were phenomenal. He was currently wrapped in a fluffy robe with matching slippers, reclined back against some soft pillows with his eyes closed. His nails were trimmed, buffed, and shined to perfection. A light purple polish that matched his eyes had been applied. 

Whatever face mask Asmo had put on him had left his face feeling softer than it ever had before in his entire life. The demon had also massaged some kind of cream into the dark circles under his eyes, then given him an entire facial massage for good measure. He had been lathered in lotions and toner and things he couldn’t even name.

“You know, no one is as beautiful as me, but you could definitely be second place. Especially now that you’ve got an artist like me to help you look your best. Oh, but it does help that you’re such a pretty canvas.” Asmo’s voice was really pleasant to listen to, it was upbeat and he spoke with this sing-song quality. Zeke had found it easy to simply relax and listen to the demon chatter away about this or that RAD gossip, about fashion trends, or color theory. Sometimes he slipped in these types of flirtations. This one made him open his eyes and tilt his head so he could look properly at the demon sitting on his bed.

“I don’t think anyone has called me beautiful before. At least not that I can remember, anyway. When I was younger the other kids called me creepy.” That probably had more to do with the general air of melancholy that surrounded him, especially back then. 

“Have you never met someone with eyes before?” Asmo made an offended sound of indignation at his admission. “Honestly, what could they possibly have found creepy about someone so beautiful?”

“Probably the Gucci eye bags, pasty pale skin, and weird eyes? Normal humans don’t have purple eyes, and humans suck at accepting anyone different.” Zeke shrugged, having long since gotten over caring what other people thought about his appearance. He didn’t even care much about his appearance beyond ensuring he looked like a functional human being that contributed to society.

“Your eyes are gorgeous, darling, and your complexion can work for you. Just leave taking care of your beautiful self to me. No one will be able to deny how handsome you are with me as your stylist.” What a bold proclamation. 

“Thanks Asmo.” Zeke chuckled softly. His knee jerk reaction at the beginning of this was to be offended, thinking that Asmo was treating him as a novelty, some kind of doll or pet to play dress up with. The longer he had spent with Asmo this evening, the more he realized just how sincere the Avatar of Lust really was. Not only did he seem to want Zeke to look and feel his best, he seemed to want that for everyone else too.

“You’re welcome, hon. If you ever need reminding how gorgeous you are, just come right to me and I’ll be happy to tell you over and over again~” Asmo giggled and flopped on top of Zeke. They stayed there quietly for a minute until the ornate clock chimed the tenth hour. “Oh! That’s my cue, darling. Now that you’re all pampered and ready for bed, it’s time for me to finish my own routine. I simply must get my beauty sleep, and you should too!”

“Okay. Goodnight Asmo.” He didn’t bother pointing out that he’d slept most of the day away and probably wasn’t going to be getting any sleep that night. There was no doubt in his mind that Asmo would fuss over him if he did.

“Good night, Zeke.” The demon squeezed him in a hug before hopping out of bed and sauntering out of Zeke’s room.

#obey me #obey me zeke #obey me ezekiel jada pendergast #obey me mc #obey me oc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me dissonance

[klausysworld]

hello you can do a one-shot for yandere human klaus mikaelson from the 21st century, where klaus has an accident and ends up in the hospital quite serious and begins to fall in love with the nurse who takes care of him because she is very beautiful and kind.

His little nurse

Klaus and his family family got into a lot of dangerous situations. They often got involved with a lot of death, each of them had blood on their hands but they had grown used to this as part of their day to day lives.

What was a shock however was when Niklaus was jumped. Barely walking out of it alive after being shot three times, the fourth one skimming past him, a broken hand from the amount of times he punched at the people attacking him, a fractured shin and significant bruising across back and abdomen. Thankfully the bullets hadn’t hit anything vital however that didn’t lessen the pain and he had to have a lot of blood given.

His elder brother hired a private nurse to tend to him in their home so he wasn’t stuck in your average hospital.

The nurse he hired was sweet and gentle, far too kind for their family but exactly what Niklaus needed when in so much pain. Y/n didn't complain about the vile language that they used toward each other around her, didn’t comment on the…disturbing conversations they had regarding the people who did this to Klaus and how they were dealt with.

She continued to smile and nurse his wounds as though he were an injured dear that may run away in fright at any second.

Klaus was growing rather fond of his little nurse, how her hands would touch his body gently to check how the bruises were coming along and checking there was no internal damage. Or when she would bring him meals and drinks and help him eat it despite him being perfectly capable with his uninjured hand.

Klaus lay in only his boxers under a thin blanket as he awaited his pretty nurse to check up on him. It took him far longer than he would admit to take his clothes off however it was summer and this way it was easier for her to check him over without having to shyly lift his shirt each time.

He shifted uncomfortably as he felt the bones in his leg scrape eachother, his eyes shutting as his teeth ground. He hated being so helpless.

He bit his tongue and put on a smirk as he heard the door opening, just the person he had been wanting walking on in.

“Hello Klaus, how are you today?” She asked with a smile on her lips as she came over to him

“Much better, my love” he told her with a grin

“How much pain on a scale of one-to-ten?” She questioned as she pulled the blanket off of him only to be shocked at his lack of clothing, a blush rushing over her face as she cleared her throat and tried to be professional.

“Mm maybe a four” he lied, he didn’t want to seem weak now did he?

She looked at him unsure, it had only been a little over a week and she knew there was no way he wasn’t in pain

“I suppose you won’t be needing me for much longer than” she muttered with a sad sigh and his heart stopped for a second

“No no love i was kidding, it very much hurts” he assured grabbing onto her hand with his working one

“Will you give me the real number you feel now please?” She asked softly and he felt his heart flutter at the tenderness in her eyes

“Probably an eight” he mumbled and she nodded

“Would you like some more medicine?” She offered and he accepted. She made sure he swallowed the pills before continuing to assess the bruises he had earned.

“I just want you to say where it hurts the most” she told him as her hands gently skimmed over his stomach. Some of the bruises were still a dark purple, some fading to a green. He winced every now and then as she pushed down a little, quickly apologising when she inflicted pain on him.

“I’m worried you have damaged your ribs more than we originally thought” she told him as she carefully felt the bone where she thought there may have been a snap.

“I’ll order an X-ray” he muttered before moaning out in pain.

“Forgive me” she whispered, her hand holding his cheek and stroking his stubble to make him feel better which it definitely did as his eyes flicked to her sad ones

“There is nothing to forgive, you have done nothing wrong” he reassured with a little smile which she returned

“Love?” He called while she was stood across the room filling his glass of water from the machine

“Yes?” She answered making her way back to him

“I was wondering, because of my leg, it’s rather difficult to wash myself even in a bath over a shower, is there any chance you would be willing to help me?” He asked innocently. He knew she couldn’t refuse him, her heart far too compassionate to let him suffer

“I suppose i should check with your brother if I’m allowed to…would um..would you be entirely uh naked?” She asked shyly

“Well…preferably yes so i am clean but i could keep my boxers on if need be” he compromised and she nodded

“I’ll check with Mr.Elijah” she confirmed and he smiled

It wasn’t long before he was lead in the back, her hands caressing his body gently after he said the sponge scratched at his wounds too much. Her hands were so soft and delicate against his skin. She would even massage his shoulders to help him feel more at ease. She was as close to heaven as he could ever imagine being.

After a few more baths over the next two weeks she had come accustomed to him being entirely nude. She was also told my a very Klaus that it was “okay to love sweetheart, do whatever you like with those magical hands of yours”

Her cheeks were bright red after that.

A few times she accidentally nudged his dick, immediately panicking and apologising only to see him with his head back and his mouth open. God it had been so long since he was able to fuck someone. He was always hard, especially with someone so beautiful as a nurse.

“Oh love, just a little more, i beg of you” he whispered almost expecting her to run away but a few seconds after he felt her perfect hand around his cock. He kept his eyes shut not wanting to scare her with an intimidating look. She pumped him slowly, unsure on what to do, not that he noticed, she did a fantastic job regardless of knowing what she was doing. Her thumb rolling over his tip so perfectly. He moaned loud and frequent to show her his appreciation as her body grew hotter. She worried what would happen if his brother knew she was being so inappropriate, what would happen if she were to be fired? She certainly couldn’t afford it.

Klaus figured out her worries and assured her it was okay. He spoke with his brother telling him the payment was out of his hands now and Klaus would deal with everything.

Klaus needed to keep his love with him for as long as possible. It got to a point where he purposely tried to walk on a broken leg, making it re-snap so she would have to stay with him.

He would do whatever it took to keep her with him, always and forever.

#klaus mikaelson yandere #human klaus #yandere human klaus #yandere!klaus #klaus mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikealson fanfiction #niklaus imagines #klaus michaelson #klaus m #klaus mikaelson x y/n #the vampire diares imagine #kol mikaelson #tvd klaus #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #tvd universe #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson headcanon #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikealson smut #klaus mikaelson x yn #klaus mikealson x reader #tvdu imagines #tvdu fluff

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Can I please ask for a yandere Beelzebub Hades and Hermes with kianna but like in this scenario they survive Ragnarok but she thinks they're dead and they see that one's quiet and emotionless girl breaks down and cry thinking she lost another person she held dear

And the rest is up to you

-Your eyes were wide in shock; you almost couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

-It had been one of the last fights for Ragnarok, and the man, (Love), whom you had tried to push away, not wanting to get hurt again, only for him to prove that he truly did care about you.

-He never hurt you, never even raised his voice unless it was to tell you how much he cared about you, or about the flaws that you saw about yourself, praising them, telling you exactly why he loved that part about you.

-Your parasol slowly lowered from your shoulder, tears welling in your eyes as it finally fell from your hands. This couldn’t be real. (Love) was dead?

-He had fought so hard, giving it everything he had against his human opponent, using his most powerful attacks, one right after another. But it wasn’t enough.

-You couldn’t even see him, the arena being destroyed in the final clash of the two most powerful attacks, ready to give everything just to win.

-Your chest felt tight as a sob wiggled in your throat, trying to rip itself free, but it felt like it was stuck, like it wasn’t coming up the rest of the way.

-Why did (Love) have to die? Why did those whom you loved so much have to be the ones to die?! Why can’t you have happiness for once in your life!

-Rage, sorrow, fear, hopelessness- all these emotions welled up inside of you as the tears finally fell, slipping down your cheeks as your parasol fell from your hand.

-You felt like if you moved, your knees would give way- you couldn’t even feel them, but you knew they were shaking, only moments from collapsing.

-You felt like a statue, stiff and stuck in place, unable to do anything except cry.

-“Y/N?” It felt like your heart stopped in your chest, you were just hearing things- he was dead- you saw it- there was no way that was him!

-But you still turned, feeling like you were in slow motion as you saw (Love) there, his shirt missing, wounds covering his body as blood poured from the open wounds his opponent managed to get on him.

-He was smiling, as he had gone to see you first, wanting to see you first, before he froze, seeing the tears on your beautiful face.

-The stuck sob finally left your lips as you tried to take a step but crumpled to your knees and he rushed to you, embracing you tightly. You didn’t care he was getting your outfit bloody and dirty- he was still there- he was alive, now holding you close.

-(Love) felt his heart aching, pain filling it as he felt so guilty for making you cry. You had suffered enough- he never wanted you to be upset again, but here he was, being the one to make you cry right now.

-Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, squeezing him close and he let you, pressing a soft kiss to your hair before you pulled back, lifting your hands to cup his face, like you were really making sure that he was there.

-You then froze, finally realizing he was severely injured, and you quickly panicked, calling for help which got many running over, to attend to (Love) to take him to the infirmary.

-He was alive- he was going to be okay. These are the words you kept repeating to yourself over and over, feeling the relief swelling in your chest as he called out your name, wanting you to come with him.

-You quickly grabbed your parasol and caught up to the stretcher, taking his hand, as he wanted to feel you as well as you saw the smile appearing on his lips, seeing you there. Everything was going to be all right.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader

[thelampisaflashlight]

Blue

[Dew deals with a wave of unwelcome emotions, but takes comfort in the company of a friend. Discusses grief and the death of a parent/parents with hints at past neglect/emotional abuse. It’s a rough one, but with a fairly positive/lighthearted ending. AKA, I hurt Dew, but I also give him some comfort.]

Dew hates the word “grief”, the rough sound of it, the way it seems keen on rhyming with something it’s not and never will be.

Brief.

Over the years, Dew has learned that grieving is not a linear process, it does not start and stop at a set time.

Nor does it, necessarily, fade.

Sometimes it’s lighter, easier to bear, pushed aside or drowned out by life.

And other times...

Dew can go a couple days without thinking of them.

Of his parents, of Mist.

But they’re always somewhere in the back of his mind.

The father who never loved him, who might still be alive but wouldn’t know his son from anyone else.

The mother who wanted him to be anyone but himself, who screamed and cried and blamed and hurt-

And Mist.

Mist hadn’t been gentle or sweet, but she had been honest, and she had been accepting in ways others had not.

His feelings towards her had always been... complicated.

Somewhere between admiration and adoration.

He yearned for her almost as much as he yearned to be her at times.

But it’s not her he’s mourning today.

It’s his mom.

And he hates it.

He hates that he has this tug in his heart, this want to be able to pick up a phone and just call her.

But he can’t.

And more than that, he hates the reason why he wants to talk to her.

It’s so stupid, so fucking mundane and small.

He doesn’t...

He doesn’t know what her favorite color is.

Was.

Whatever.

It shouldn’t be a big deal, it should just be another thing on the long ass fucking list of shit he doesn’t NEED to know or care about, because fuck that woman and everything she ever cared about...

...But it hurts.

It hurts, because he’ll never have the answer.

He’ll never have a solid resolution, and it’s just another reminder of just how much unresolved bullshit that bitch left behind when she-

His face feels hot, and he has to pinch his eyes shut as tears start to leak from them uncomfortably.

It pisses him off.

He’s so mad he wants to scream, but instead of a powerful, rage filled yell, the sound that comes out is more...

Pained.

Vulnerable.

Weirdly human.

And that only makes him feel worse.

So he curls into himself just a bit.

Enough so that his face is hidden between his knees and he’s certain nobody passing by can see him crying.

And that’s exactly the position Aether finds him in not long after.

Eyes still stinging.

Frustrated.

Angry.

And still so fucking-

Sad.

Aether doesn’t call out to him at first, doesn’t ask if he’s okay, because he knows by now that’s not what Dew wants or needs to hear when he’s like this.

Instead, Aether sits down beside him, slides his leg over to meet the side of Dew’s.

No hands keeping him there.

Minimal contact.

But a constant, steady warmth to let him know he’s not alone without making him feel trapped.

And they stay like that.

For half an hour, maybe a bit more.

Until Dew painfully unfolds himself, just enough to shove his face against Aether’s shoulder, still too uneasy to be held, but present enough to rub the crust from his nose onto the other’s shirt.

“Gross.” Aether hums, no heat or annoyance to his voice.

Dew presses his face in harder and rubs again.

“You wanna stop using me like a tissue and talk about it yet?” he asks, almost laughing when Dew pauses his aggressive wiping to think.

“...It’s kind of stupid.” Dew says, eyes beginning to water anew, voice breaking slightly, sitting his chin on the larger ghoul’s shoulder.

Aether tilts his head to meet the top of Dew’s.

“Stupid like Swiss trying to put out his burning toast in the toaster using water, or stupid like... complicated?”

Dew lifts his hands and then lowers them, sighing.

“...Stupid like... I miss somebody I hate for a stupid reason.”

Aether nuzzles his cheek against Dew’s hair.

“I wasn’t... I was just thinking about random shit, and I thought about... that I don’t...” he breathes softly, “...I got worked up because I don’t know what my mother’s favorite color was, and it pisses me off that I won’t ever get to know, even though I hate her.”

“I hate her so much, and the only fucking thing I can think of right now is that I don’t even know her favorite color...”

“Well... I like green.” Aether offers, carefully bringing a hand up to rub Dew’s back soothingly, “And Rain likes orange... Copia likes red, which feels a little obvious, but yeah...”

Dew blinks, “What?”

“You said you couldn’t think of anything else, so... we’re gonna make a list of things you do know, yeah?”

“...Yeah. Yeah, okay, let’s... let’s do that.” Dew furrows his brow, “Sunshine likes pink...”

Aether nods, “And yellow.”

“Strawberry lemonade colors...” Dew snorts.

“...Which also happens to be who’s favorite drink?”

“Swiss.” Dew mumbles, “He pretends like he doesn’t like it because it’s sweet, but he always pours two more sugar packets into his glass when nobody’s looking-”

#Lamp writes #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic

[balloonboyismyson]

Sometimes

When bodyguard!Monty goes into his recharge pod

He can still hear them knocking on his metal frame

OKAY SO this inspired me to write a little so I hope you like it :o))

There was knocking at the door (900+ words) CW: Anxiety-Inducing, mentions of death, mental trauma

It was night once again, and the blue illumination of the single charging station was the only thing that kept the room from being engulfed by the ever-expanding void of darkness he hadn’t dared touch. It had been 6 months since his failure. When They hadn’t heard back from Y/N after the mission, They came to the restaurant themselves. 

He had just been sitting there, it wasn’t like he could do much else. Had he been a human he’d have wretched, sobbed, anything to get his despair out, but his manufacturers didn’t account for needing to. They never saw him as anything but a robot, unlike you. 

A part of him hated you, hated you for making him fall so madly in love with you. When They saw what happened, They dragged him to the van and brought him back to headquarters to clean him up. They hadn’t even had the decency to turn him off first.

It was the next day where things got worse. Once he finally regained control of himself, his mind was what went next. By the time he was out of the facility, the morning staff would all need to be replaced, and his only regret was making their ends faster than yours.

He knew exactly where your apartment was. He had originally cemented it in his mind to know how to get his assignment back to the Protected Zone as They called it. As he opened the door, the thick warm air encapsulated him. 

When you were first introduced, you had asked him if he preferred the air warmer or cooler. You had used your breath to ask him his thoughts. At first he thought it was a stupid question- humans die depending on the temperature, he was a robot, he couldn’t care less. But you saw the way he would linger in the bathroom when you were done with a shower or the kitchen while a big meal was made. 

His eyes moved to your bedroom. He entered almost in a panic, moving towards the bed you so lovingly made before last night’s shift. He picked up your pyjama top and stared at it a moment. The fabric scrunched in his hands as he made his way back into the main room and sat in the corner to the right of the door. He held that shirt for dear life.

They had come in the apartment multiple times, trying everything They could to get him out. They wanted to assign him to someone else, or maybe decommission him altogether. He wouldn’t mind the second option, but then who would remember you? That was a reason why you were chosen for this role, afterall. He would attack anyone who came near him, so eventually, They just took the loss and let him stay there. 

He always kept the lights on. After that night, he was terrified of the dark. He couldn’t see very well in that backroom, but he could smell, he could hear, and he could feel. He was petrified if the lights went out, he’d be thrown right back into that night. 

As the weeks progressed, the bulbs, one by one went out. Each time a bulb flickered, he’d move to a different spot in the room. Just as they forewarned, that bulb would die, just like you. 

Every couple of weeks a new bulb would go out. By the time the final bulb flickered, he found himself pressed against the only other thing keeping him alive- that damn recharge station. He was pissed it was there, mocking him. In him was a timer of sorts. When he got too low on power, he had to get up and charge, he had no choice. If it weren’t for its glow, he’d have probably destroyed it. 

His timer was up, and he needed to charge. He weakly stood up, his joints creaking loudly with every movement. The door opened for him, and he stepped in. The hum was too loud for his liking, and the tube was barely large enough to fit him. He could see through the window the darkness he so intensely despised. 

For some reason tonight, he almost felt… allured. He could just barely see the outline of the couch, and he felt himself looking for something. The once faint hum got louder as he inched towards the glass. He felt tense. The same intensity he got when there was an intruder. 

He heard knocking and scanned the room, trying to find anything amiss. Was there someone at the door? He needed to leave but he couldn’t mid-charge.

He put his hands on the door and searched desperately through the darkness, and he swore he saw movement. The hum was blaring and the knocking was hard and fast, every part of his body told him there was someone in the house.

He used his claws to try to pry the door open, but nothing happened. Were those footsteps? He hadn’t heard a crash but his body felt red hot. 

Was this what fear was? His eyes darted in the darkness, the hum becoming ear-piercing as he clawed at the door to get out. The knocking turned to pounding. His artificial breath steamed the once clear glass as his fans tried desperately to cool him down. 

He suddenly stopped and his eyes glazed as he peered forwards.

There wasn’t knocking at the door.

#Clownie honks #asks #//I do not read much/watch many things so I am unsure what labels mean what I am sorry ;o; #Monty Gator x Reader #Bodyguard!AU #death #writing #Monty Gator Security Breach

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Comfort in an Abandoned Theatre

Summary - Part 38 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends)

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

 Meanwhile in the alley…

Dean waits as patiently as possible pretending to mess with something under the hood of Baby. The longer he waits the more impatient he gets. He just wants to bust into the club, drag his wife back to the hotel and forget the werewolves even exist. But he pushes that desire deep down and reminds himself why he fell in love with Y/N in the first place and that she can handle herself just fine. After what feels like an eternity he sees the backdoor of the nightclub open. He quietly closes the hood and pulls out his gun, checking the silver bullets are loaded. When he cautiously glances back over at the person who emerged from the door his eyes land on your lifeless-looking body in his arms. His heart instantly sinks and all he wants to do is shoot, but he knows he can’t risk hitting you or the man using you as a human shield, or hurting you in retaliation. So instead he just watches hopelessly as you’re led away in the opposite direction down the alley. He knows Jason’s waiting on that corner, so as soon as the coast is clear he jumps in Baby and follows from a safe distance with the lights off. He spins his ring around his finger, trying his best to calm himself down as he watches the man get further away with you. 

Then all too quickly the sound of a gunshot sends him into a panic. The werewolf sprints off dragging you with him. His speed alone is the last bit of proof Dean needs. He can feel his blood almost boiling as he loses sight of the werewolf and you. He slams his hands on the steering wheel in frustration, shouting, “Son of a bitch!” He sees Jason run out from around the corner with his hands up, then he spins around and sees Mark with his gun in his hand by his side. Dean’s face says everything they need to know, he’s beyond angry. 

Mark cautiously walks towards Dean and Jason. “He put something in her drink. She was fine and then she quickly wasn’t. It went downhill real fast in there.”

“So what you thought you’d come out here guns blazing? You could’ve shot her! Or worse you could’ve hit him and caused him to turn her! What were you thinking?” Dean shouts.

“I was thinking I’d kill the werewolf, because that’s why we’re here right? Or did you forget that this is a hunt, Winchester?” Jason spits back. Then under his breath he adds, “This is exactly why I didn’t want to work with a Winchester.”

Dean nods and then storms back to Baby. “Then you’d better just stay out of my way!” He slams the door shut and speeds off down the alley in the last direction he sees the werewolf go. He drives up and down streets looking for anywhere that looks like it could house a pack of werewolves. Among all the highrise buildings and shops, nothing looks even remotely like an average werewolf den. 

After an hour of driving around and no leads, he returns to the hotel. He pulls out his laptop and tries to track your phone. It pings at a theatre building about a block back from the beach. When he searches the building online he finds out it’s been shut down and abandoned for years. He slams the laptop shut and sprints back down the stairs to the car speeding as fast as he can to the theatre. He pulls a park out the front and sends Sam a quick text with his location and the word ‘werewolf’. He puts his phone on silent so as not to give himself away, grips his gun and gets out of the car as silently as possible. It’s been years since he’s taken on a hunt like this alone; he can feel his heat racing as he approaches the decrepit building. He silently peers between the boards on one of the front windows searching for any signs of movement or light; proof that you’re actually in there, alive and still human. He can’t see anything, it’s pitch black inside, but as he turns to make his way to the next window he hears a small howling sound. Almost like a puppy that’s been left home alone all day, it’s sad and a little weak. 

Sons of bitches are breeding! He thinks to himself as he peers in another boarded-up window. Still no luck. It’s just too dark. Damn werewolves and their ability to see in the dark! 

He looks up at the dark sky and crescent moon high above him, before glancing back down at his watch: 1:25. With hours till sunrise and the desperation to find and keep his precious wife safe pulling at his heart,  he makes the decision to go in blind. He can’t wait the four to five hours required to get light, with the hope that they’re nocturnal. Anything could happen in that time, and each worst-case scenario is filtering through his mind as the seconds pass. 

With his gun full of silver bullets, and drawn with the safety off he tries the door handle carefully, trying to keep quiet. To his surprise, it isn’t locked. He steps inside quietly, shutting the door behind him with care. Inside he notices the floor is carpeted, helping to cushion the fall of his heavy boots and hide his footsteps. Barely being able to see a foot in front of him, he tunes into his other senses. Listening for more howls, movement, and voices. Smelling for the rank, metallic scent of blood, rotting meat, and the distinct and comforting smell of your floral perfume hoping it hasn’t been covered by the scent of mutated dog. As he ventures further down the hall his eyes start to adjust to the darkness making it ever so slightly easier to see and keep him from bumping into anything and making noise. He sees a wide-open doorway to his left, almost like the entrance to a movie theatre or concert hall. He notes the protection a room like that would give a pack, especially one with children, but also the danger of the limited exits for himself as he stalks through the doorway. Keeping his aim steady in front of him, he cautiously makes his way through the dark corridor, noting the lines of stepped-up seating above him on either side. 

Suddenly, an aching pain shoots through his body as someone lands on top of him, causing him to land on his back on the carpet, which isn’t as soft as he hoped. He tries to fight off the man, approximately the same size as himself but his gun is knocked out of his grip. He fumbles around trying to reach for the silver knife in the waistband of his jeans but his hands are pinned above his head. As he looks up at the attacker’s face he notices the sharp fangs on display. He doesn’t need to look at his hands to see the claws, he can feel them cutting into his wrists. He gathers his strength and kicks his legs out, distracting the werewolf enough so that he can rip his hand free. With his free hand, he immediately rips out his silver knife and stabs the werewolf in the side, overpowering him so he can get on top. He slides his knife out of his side and stabs him in the heart, watching as his body goes limp. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he stares at the wolf’s features; they’re familiar. He pulls his knife out of his chest, wipes it clean using the wolf’s shirt and then stands over him. 

“That’s for taking my wife, you son of a bitch!” He says.

He turns to inspect the room further, searching for you in the darkness when he hears the same sad howling from earlier again. He takes a few steps forward, collects his gun inspects it carefully and then calls out gruffly, “I hear you! Come on out!” When he doesn’t hear or see any movement he rounds the corridor and ascends the stairs checking each row carefully. As he approaches the back of the room the howling is replaced with a sound that is halfway between a low growl and sob, but it’s still quiet. He sees a subtle movement in his peripheral vision and focuses on the back row. In the dark, he can make out a small shadowy figure. It’s shaking. He aims his gun towards the figure as he gets closer. From the end of the row, he can finally tell the figure is a small child, he assumes from their tiny stature they can’t be more than five years old. He replaces the safety on his gun and stows it in the pocket of his jacket as he slips into a chair at the end of the row slowly. 

“Hi. My name is Dean, I’m here to help you, what’s your name?” Dean asks softly.

The child just shakes their head and looks at the floor silently. 

Dean tries again, “Was that other man trying to hurt you? Did he take you away from your parents?”

The child shakes their head again. Then eventually groaks out in a tiny voice, “Is he dead?”

Dean slowly nods his head, watching the child intently as they resume their howling and sobbing. 

Shit! The gears start turning in his head as he watches and listens to the child. 

“Was he your dad?” Dean asks. 

The child nods sadly. Dean watches them as he weighs up his options. He knows this pup is a monster, but they’re still a child. He puts his hand on the handle of his gun but can’t bring himself to pull it out. Werewolf or not, it’s a child. If they grow up and start killing people he can always come back and finish the job, or some other hunter can. He stands up. 

“Have you seen a woman in here? She came here with your dad earlier tonight.”

The child nods and points towards the other end of the row. As Dean follows the child’s direction he can’t believe he didn’t notice you there before. He takes in your limp body sprawled out over a few seats. You look so uncomfortable but also unconscious so he guesses you can’t feel or hear anything. Cautiously, he gets up and squeezes past the child to get to you. He pulls you into his lap so you can be more comfortable, even if you have no recollection of it. He just knows if you stay all contorted like that you’ll wake up with all sorts of aches and pains. He lets your head rest on his shoulder as he holds you close to his chest. He breathes a small sigh of relief as he fills your warm, steady breath fan out on his neck and feels your steady pulse. 

He watches cautiously as the child crawls over the chairs to get a little closer. Up close Dean can tell from her feminine features that she’s a little girl. Her face is soft and cherubic, with delicate, rosy cheeks, a petite button nose, wide, innocent, yet red-rimmed and tear-filled eyes, and a natural, gentle pout that gives her an angelic appearance. Her skin is soft and smooth, with a subtle hint of childhood freckles across her nose and cheeks. If not for her being a werewolf he would say she’s beautiful. He almost feels bad for stabbing her father, but as he holds your limp body in his arms he tells himself he did the right thing. Not having any of the right words to comfort the child, but also not wanting to leave them alone he stays silent. He just sits there and holds you waiting for whatever that monster put in your drink to wear off. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican, @fallenlilangel99, @heavenlyhopeful0, @nelachu2423, @ladysparkles78

#dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff

[hanafubukki]

Malleus’ Feelings about the Change in Lilia / Familial Love

So I am still in my Malleus feels from this post and I want to talk a bit more about Malleus’ feelings when it came to Lilia and the changes Lilia gradually goes through. (This is my speculation and thoughts from the known lore)

So, we know that Lilia watched and, to a degree, raised Malleus. Made sure that Malleus would not only be safe from others, but also from himself. Lilia raised Malleus and instilled in him all the qualities of a good King.

We know that Malleus’ grandmother was busy running the country but she would see Malleus and we know that she gives Malleus flower seeds that he grows. We have also learned that she’s another one that states that he has to grow to be a ruler. We know Malleus is fond of his grandmother but we also know that she’s busy.

So, most of the time, Malleus would get familiar love from Lilia only. And as we’ve seen from the lesson lines that Malleus states, Lilia didn’t exactly go easy on him.

Now, this could be because of many reasons: natural fae attitudes, General Lilia ruthlessness, the expectations of what Malleus will be in the future, and so on…

But we know that during those times, Lilia was with Malleus and can you imagine? Little Malleus doing his best to make him proud. This person that he loves and looks up to, he wants to make him proud so he does his best to meet Lilia’s standards (like Silver, can you see the parallels?) and you can tell that Malleus is proud of that fact from the way he smirks during those history lessons.

We also know that Lilia went on adventures. Malleus couldn’t go with him of course, but we know that Lilia would return and speak of his adventures and bring him souvenirs and that must have been such a bright time for Malleus. Even enough to dampen the hurt whenever Lilia left because he knew he would come back and he would smile and give him gifts. We also know that one of the gifts Malleus treasures is his tanogachi from Lilia.

Time passes, and eventually, Lilia finds Silver and raised him. We know Lilia wasn’t the best because he doesn’t know how to treat humans, so with the help of the Zigvolts and Malleus, he was able to raise Silver.

Lilia gradually changes. He trains Silver and Sebek and he notices that he can’t teach them like you would normally for faes, like the way he did with Malleus.

So, he changes and becomes softer and adapts in a way that would let Silver and Sebek learn. Not saying he wasn’t still hard on them, I mean you can’t leave kids alone on an island by themselves to fend for themselves against nature and other dangers and come back and expect them to be okay and alive (though I like to think that he was watching from the sidelines just in case, pretty sure Mama Zigvolt would have his head too) because that’s a brutal training regimen.

And Malleus is seeing all this, he watches as his mentor and father figure changes. We also know that at one point Lilia also changes his looks. I believe Malleus is the only one that mentions there’s an image of Lilia in the textbooks, and most likely, Silver and Sebek grew up and saw Lilia’s change in appearance too.

But to Malleus? This change is significant. It not only a change from what he has known all through his life, but it’s also as if he’s meeting someone new. It’s as if the person he knew before is not there anymore. It’s another loss to the list of losses he already has.

But even though this Lilia is more softer and different, he is still Lilia nonetheless. It’s another sign of time passing and another sign of something Malleus does not have control of despite his powers.

Then there’s the way Lilia treats Silver. Malleus understands humans to a certain degree. After all, he grew up with very few human interactions and part of the reason he’s going to NRC is so he can form connections and understand humans more.

But, the way Lilia treats Silver (and Sebek) is different. Lilia is more familiar and loving with them, probably more so than he was ever with Malleus.

Lilia takes care of Silver when he’s sick, worried when he got lost, always showing affection through hugs and other ways. They are close. But have we ever heard about this type of affection with Malleus? This familiarity? This type of love?

Now, Malleus watches as someone who he looks up to as a father figure loves another in a way he always craved. (But he never received, he has to uphold a image after all right?)

And how do you think that must have made him feel?

But we do not see this envy, at least not right now.

Because Malleus cherishes Silver (and Sebek) too, he has watched them grow. He has watched them as they dedicated their lives to protecting him. What more can he ask for? How can he be envious (more like show it) or ask for more? How can he ask for more? He’s not raised to be this way. He’s raised to do and be the best for his people and he cannot be selfish.

And they love him, but what type of love is this? Is this even love? Or is it Worship? Duty? Loyalty?

In the end, does Malleus really have what he always wanted? Familial Love? For people to love him for him?

Or has he always been lonely in a room full of people? Looking from the outside in?

#twst lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge #twst malleus draconia #malleus draconia #twst silver #twst sebek zigvolt #twst theory #twst theories #book 7 #twst book 7 #malleus draconia character analysis #twst analysis #diasomnia

[castielmydarling]

Suptober 2023-Day 5: Portrait

Pencil to Paper-456 words on AO3 or below Summary: Dean has time to work on his favorite subject, Cas. A sequel of sorts to days 3 fic pen to paper

“How’s it coming?” Cas says calmly. 

“You can’t rush greatness.” Dean glances up from his sketchbook to look at Cas, sitting in the armchair. 

Cas rolls his eyes. 

“Hey, none of that.” Dean chides.

“Dean, I’ve stood and watched humanity pass by for decades at a time. I have no problem waiting. I waited over twelve years for you, didn’t I?” He teases, amused. 

Dean blushes. “Hey, don’t pin all that on me.”

“Anyways, I was simply inquiring how it was coming along.” Cas continues. 

“Sure you were.” Cas talks big but Dean knows he can either be ‘Mr. I’ll wait here then’ or ‘Mr. How long is this going to take.’. He looks over his drawing. “About three quarters done. Maybe another hour?” He guesses.

“Can I see?” Cas shifts as if to get up. 

“You stay there.” Dean scolds. “No peeking. You know the rules.”

Sometimes hunts were boring. They involved a lot of stakeouts and waiting around. Dean took to doodling on whatever napkin or scrap of paper he had handy to pass the time. It wasn’t until Cas died at Lucifer’s hand that Dean found his favorite subject. He thought drawing him would help keep him alive, help him cope. It didn’t exactly help much but after Cas came back he kept at it. Cas was gone too much for his liking so drawing him was a way to keep him close. And it helped. A little. 

Dean rarely did full body portraits, mainly sticking to simple quick sketches. Once or twice Cas caught him sketching him while he slept. Dean told him he had no room to complain given the years Cas spent watching him sleep. 

This was the first time Cas was posing for him. Awake and knowingly, anyways. Dean was nervous he wouldn’t be able to draw properly. Sometimes Cas’ gaze could make him feel like he was under a microscope, in the best way. But once he started he found it surprisingly easy. It was relaxing to know they had time to do this. He wasn’t just doing a quick thing in a motel room before leaving to kill some monster. No. Now they had time to sit around in silence while Dean worked. And Cas was more than happy to sit around and watch him do it. 

“I think I know what’s taking so long.” Cas says, breaking the comfortable silence. “I’m wearing all these clothes. I’m sitting in this big armchair. Maybe next time we stay in our room, eliminate some items.” He says nonchalantly. 

Dean’s hand slips. He works to fix the huge line now cutting across the page. “ Uh, yeah. We could try that.” He says tyring, and failing, to keep his voice steady. 

#suptober23 #destiel fic #destiel #castiel #dean winchester

[helleboretks]

Relax, You Two

This is a Ler!Riza, Lee!Edward and Lee!Ling tickle fic, with a little bit of Lers!Mustang and Hughes!! If this isn’t your forte, no need to read!

This is also Post-Promised Day, with the good ol’ Alive!Hughes au!

Summary: Riza easily notices how the two boys are still paranoid after it all. In her opinion, they need a day off.

The Hawk’s Eye catches all in her gaze.

A slight of hand, a petty crime preparation, the key to taking down drug rings. No matter how big or how small it may be, she sees it. She can stare at it as if it were clear as day. Nothing slips past her gaze, and everyone knows it.

So how could these two boys ever think their paranoia would go unnoticed?

Riza sees the way Edward throws himself into more research, almost in hysteria if he doesn't. She sees the way Ling gets jumpy near a window, or a door, or any dark place just big enough to hide a human.

Riza sees the way Edward stares off as Alphonse rests in the hospital, mere weeks after the Promised Day. The way his hand is placed on his brother’s chest, as if he can’t believe there is a beating heart just below the surface of pale skin, as if it will be ripped away from him if he wasn’t there to protect his little brother.

And Riza sees the way Ling’s body is constantly tense, fingers itching for something to curl around–something sharp to defend himself with– and how his head swivels about, scanning every inch and every crevice of every room he’s in.

Paranoia can do a lot to kids so thoroughly traumatized. She knows the feeling.

It does not mean she will let this slide.

So she took them for a day out with her.

.

.

.

It didn't really work.

She had tried to take them to a clothing store, and as a result she had to compensate for thoroughly checking every rack they went to in order to quell Ling's whining. He wouldn't dare come so close to them until she did.

She tried a jewelry store next, and all Edward would talk about was 'Alphonse would like this' or 'Alphonse would like that'. Which wasn't bad at all, mind you. She thought it was rather sweet, actually.

But 'I hope Al is okay' and 'Those doctors better treat him well' or 'I really need to check on Al so I should go' weren't exactly good examples of relaxing.

She took them to as many places as she could within four whole hours, and nothing seemed to bring their guard down all that much, save for a few seconds of vulnerability at least twice or thrice.

It's a concerning situation for them to be in.

And she can't let this slide.

So she vowed to do something as soon as possible.

That comes into play when they find themselves in Mustang’s office.

It doesn’t take very long for the boys to start up their bantering by Edward’s desk, going back and forth about some topic she couldn’t distinguish (or maybe they were flying through a whole plethora of topics at once, she wouldn’t be surprised if they were capable of that).

For once, she allows herself to do some minor paperwork from the comfort of the couch, seeing as there isn’t much to do today anyways. She had deliberately cleared her schedule of anything major today just to spend some time with the boys, after all.

She doesn’t really try to involve herself in whatever it is they are arguing over, at the moment, but the argument seems to find its way to her anyways.

“Lieutenant!” Edward whines aloud as he flops against the cushions to Riza’s left. She turns to him as Ling huffs with crossed arms, but he clearly seems to be holding in his amusement of the situation.

“Yes, Edward?” It’s not often she gets to hear this whiny tone from him, given he isn’t much of a person to complain–around her at least, she doesn’t feel very sorry for the others–, so she decides to provide them both with her attention.

“There’s this damn Xingese phrase that Ling keeps saying and he won’t tell me what it fucking means!-” “Well I think I’d like to keep my things to myself, Ed!” She blinks slowly as they start their back and forth again almost immediately.

“If you wanna keep it to your damn self, don’t say anything!”

“Well I’m not gonna tell a lie, am I? Nǐ kànshàngqù hěnpiàoliang!!”

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT FUCKING MEANS!? I DON’T SPEAK BROKE ALIEN-”

Ling lets out a wheeze at that, laughing out ‘Broke Alien!?’ as he clutches his sides. Riza lets out a soft sigh as Edward grumbles and complains. They seem so carefree here. At first glance, anyone would assume so. Just two kids bickering and going at it over a silly phrase in Xingese.

But Edward’s shoulders are tense, and Ling falls into a seat on the other side of Riza, posture defensive, ready to fight back. His arms are the most mobile part of his body as they bickered; crossing, flailing, gesturing, expressing. They never stop, and they always stray too close to his pockets.

Edward’s bouncing flesh leg says a lot as it is, but the way he’s hunching so much seems to seal the deal.

It most certainly does for Riza.

She sighs, tossing the pen onto the table before her as she lets the papers fall onto that table with it. “That’s quite enough boys.” She spoke up.

Before either of them have time to properly react, she gently presses their heads against her lap, shutting up the duo immediately; Edward’s silence spoke volumes of realization, whilst Ling’s…she isn’t quite sure what he might have been thinking.

She’s done this to Edward a few times in the past years, but it has been a while she must admit. Perhaps she’s gotten rusty? Only one way to truly find out.

“Lieutenant, please.” Edward muttered as Ling absentmindedly turned on his back, spacing off. Edward’s face steadily grew rosey as she did not, in fact, let them up.

“I’ve been trying to help you two relax all day. Although, I suppose it would have been futile no matter what I tried. Or so I had thought.” Riza casually spoke as Edward tensed up, throwing his arms around his torso and ducking his face into his chest. He knows better than to try and escape anyways, the first few times he did were always a hellish reminder, she knew that well. The only thing he can really do is feebly try and protect himself, whilst his partner stays entirely oblivious.

“Huh?” Ling eventually hums, confused with a tilted head. Riza smiles down gently at him, disarmingly. He smiles right back at her, eyes closed with a grin of cheeky cuteness. Innocent and harmless.

Until she digs her nails into Ling’s side.

The yelp that greets them is high and startled, and Edward flusteredly flinches as Ling begins to giggle feverishly, squirming away from her touch. “H-Hehehehehey!! What gihihihives!?” He cries out, rolling this way and that under her arm.

“It’s simply a last resort. Perhaps I should have started with this first?” Riza contemplates to herself, seeking out anything that will get her a laugh out of the soon-to-be-Xing-emperor. He squeals at a pinch to the ribs, so Riza takes advantage of that, scribbling all along his ribs-wherever she can reach. Which is pretty much everywhere, he doesn’t seem to know how to protect himself.

Meanwhile, she smiles down at the flustered blond to her left, the anticipation alone having him flinch every time her fingers so much as twitch. “You seem awfully nervous, Edward. Is something wrong?” She asks, putting on yet another innocent facade.

“Nohoho…!” Edward practically whines, turning his head all the way away from her and giggling when Ling jerked and pressed the top of his own head against Ed’s. He gasps when her finger traces down his side, and almost instinctively snatches and holds it up.

Ah yes, as if that will save him from the inevitable.

For now, she concentrates on Ling.

“You don’t seem to be trying to protect yourself, Ling. I wonder why that is?” Ling squeaks as her hand travels to his neck, and his legs kick out like an excited little puppy as she flutters her fingertips at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He really seems to be enjoying this, isn’t he?

“That tihihickles! Pleehehehehease, oh myhihihi god!” Ling begs, his fists shaking as if he doesn’t know whether or not to grab her hand away. Her heart practically swells at such a cute display, she can’t help but tease her fingers right under his chin.

At that, Ling jerks harshly and his eyes shoot wide open as a loud squeal rips out of him. “TICKLEEES!! NAHAHAHAHA!!!” He shrieks, startling both blondes as he loudly laughs and shakes his head, raven hair flying wildly. She almost couldn’t keep her fingers on his chin from all his squirming.

“A sensitive chin? Now that’s new.” Riza observes, quelling the urge to smirk at the way Edward rolls half-way onto his stomach, ears pink and flustered. He even lets go of her hand, which she doesn’t waste hovering it right over his spine. He’s probably had enough of waiting, anyways.

“Are you ready for your turn, Edward?” Her nonchalant question makes the boy flinch, and he shakes his head rapidly with giggles already spilling out. “Why are you laughing already? I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Be-becahause Ling’s laughihing!” Edward complains. “IHIHIH’M SAHAHARRY!! IT TIHIHICKLES-IT-IT-IHIHIHI CAHAHAHAN’T STAHAHAHAP!!!” Ling sputters and wheezes out between his laughter. “Edward, how could you laugh at your friend like that?”

Edward stutters for an answer, but the moment he opens his mouth all that comes out is a loud, high-pitched yelp as Riza drags all five fingers down the length of his spine, causing him to arch away.

He exploded with laughter, maybe even louder than Ling’s as she massages her knuckles into the center of his shoulder blades, a loud resounding snort escaping along with it. That only causes Ling to laugh harder, scrunching up his neck.

So she tries the next best thing and goes for his belly.

He immediately melts at the affectionate tickling.

He finally goes for some form of defense, balling up fetally to try and protect his poor belly, but Riza’s hand was already there and it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

“Oh wow, I’m surprised that you’re both so ticklish.” Riza happily comments to the two snorting, giggling, cackling boys, heads in her lap with varying degrees of blush on their faces. Carefree, just like she’d been going for all day.

No tension in the shoulders, no discreet defensive stance, no underlying tension like only minutes before.

It was just them, giggling and cackling away like nobody’s business.

“HEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHE!!!” Edward cried out, causing the smile Riza sports to stretch further. “I CAHAHAN’T!!! I CAN’T-PLEHEHEHEHEHEAAAHAHAH-” The poor thing snorts gain when she switches to his side.

Ling tries with all his might to latch onto something-anything to ground himself, eventually finding Edward’s arm and holding on for dear life as he giggled himself silly. However, Riza decides to take advantage of this, and the Xingese soon-to-be-emperor squeals and tries to defend himself when she starts drilling right under his arm.

This, as luck would have it, clearly didn’t weaken his grip on Ed’s arm, only causing him to fling it up and out of the way and only making Edward even more accessible to her.

This was almost too easy.

Edward screams out the moment Riza targets his armpit, his thrashing increasing tenfold as his legs begin to kick and kick endlessly. She had to switch to the other one just so he wouldn’t throw himself off the couch.

“LEHEHET ME GOHOHO!!! LIHIHIHIHING!! LETGOLETGOLETGOLETGO-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH NOT THERE NOT THEHEHEHEHERE!!!” Pleading got him nowhere, his free arm flailing wildly and frantically colliding with Ling’s shoulder as the two poor teens seemed to only make it worse for each other. It was beyond hilarious to witness.

“STAHAHAHAP, I BEHEHEHEG I BEG-PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!!” Ling failed miserably to keep himself together, arching his back away as if that would ever help him escape. She didn’t even have to tease either of them like Colonel or-God forbid-Havoc would have certainly done; her staying silent through this ordeal only seemed to make them beg more.

Edward yelps out curse after curse, with Ling squealing and pleading desperately by his side as she gives them no mercy. And honestly, she would have given them this kind of treatment for an extra twenty minutes or so.

If it weren’t for Edward accidentally grabbing and clawing at Ling’s shoulder blade, that is.

“HOLY-FAHAHAHAHAHAHACK!!!”

Riza and Edward both jolted at the curse that split the air in two, and the former was so surprised that she immediately let up in her assault, causing the two teens to fall right off the couch in a mess.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuhuhuhuck!!” Ling desperately pawed at his shoulder blade, trying to vanquish the tingly sensation as Edward melts into a fit of natural laughter across from him, clutching his stomach.

“Whahahahat the fahahack!? When’d you start cuhuhursing, idiot prince!?” Ling balled in on himself with embarrassment, letting out a high pitched whine that had Edward positively rolling. Riza could do nothing but sigh fondly as Edward’s relentless laughter was teasing enough for the Xingese Prince’s ‘bad manners’.

Well, he kept laughing until the door was pried open, at least.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye! We heard screaming and-”

Everyone in the room paused the moment both Colonel Mustang and Brigadier General Hughes entered the room, an almost awkward kind of silence kicking in.

“...Ah.”

“DON’T YOU ‘AH’ ME, DUMBFUCK!!!” Edward was quick to get defensive, pointing an accusatory finger at the two now smirking men, face redder than the coat he used to wear. Ling lets out an aborted wheeze as the Colonel makes eye contact with Riza.

She can just tell what he’s asking for.

And she, once again, shows no mercy.

“The boys are all yours, Colonel, General.”

It hadn’t even taken five seconds before something crashed in the office, the frightened shriek of the former-Fullmetal Alchemist and the loud ‘HAVE MERCY!!!’ from the Xingese Prince only serving to make her smile more indulgent.

The two men got to work on making the melody of their laughter pound through her very ribs, as Riza herself simply picks up the files and pen she previously abandoned.

She breathes in the positivity like well-made coffee, chuckling to herself as the four, man and boy alike, run and race around the room, the two youngers getting caught and escaping with barely their lives to spare, only to get tackled once again for their sweet, uplifting laughter.

Yes, this was better than their paranoia.

Much, much better.

#Okay #The phrase Ling said was basically #'You look beautiful!!!' #bc #yk #I'm an Edling stan #so it had to happen folks #ANYWAYS #fmab tickles #ler!riza #lee!edward #lee!ling #slightly ler!mustang #slightly ler!hughes #HBWriting #fullmetal alchemist tickling