#man would’ve died REAL QUICK without them there

[therighthandofvengeance]

Sheridan: if the devil can go down to Georgia, then I can go to Zha’ha’dum

#who are queue? what do queue want? #incorrect babylon 5 quote #john sheridan #source: @therighthandofvengeance #the devil went down to georgia #he’s lucky he’s cute #he’s also lucky that the bisexual women in his life are in his life #man would’ve died REAL QUICK without them there

[earlgreyinpajamas]

Any recs for merthur and time travel? Or like, modern au when Arthur gets out of the lake? Thanks!!!!

time travel

Complementarity, Entanglement and the Uncertainty of Destiny —or— A Feminist Mage in King Arthur's Court by Jenrose (@jenroses), procoffeinating (@procoffeinating)

Merlin was once told that Arthur would rise again at the hour of Camelot's greatest need. But a thousand years pass, with no Arthur. When the last war comes, and the world dies, and Arthur still doesn't return, Merlin suddenly realises that the hour of Camelot's greatest need… was a thousand years ago. Sometimes he's a bit slow on the uptake. Fortunately, he's figured out how to go back. What would YOU do if you had 2000 years of experience in the body of a 17 year old, and absolutely nothing left to lose?

Note: E-rated sections clearly tagged, can be skipped.

~~~

we can't talk about time travel without talking about this fic: i.e. the finest 100k words fix it

2. time, mystical time by andiwriteordie

Finally, the man tears his gaze away and meets Arthur’s eyes once more. “I seek the aid of your Camelot,” he says, but his voice sounds more hesitant now, as if he’s had to change his response for some strange reason.

Merlin can’t help but believe that reason is him.

“As for who I am,” the man says with a bit of a chuckle, and he glances around the room again at familiar faces, at his friends. “I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot.”

Or:

When a mysterious stranger shows up to Camelot claiming to be Arthur from the future and seeking help for his sick consort, Merlin learns some things about himself, about Arthur, and about a future he never dreamed was possible.

~~~

wonder who that consort is

3. you can call me dangerous (these are the sins of my youth) by wastefulreverie (@wastefulreverie)

When an accidental spell sends Camelot's future crown prince spiraling into the past, it's up to Arthur to navigate secrets past and present.

Or: Arthur and Merlin's son cannot keep a damn secret.

~~~

i'll admit that it doesn't have the most conclusive of endings, but i had a blast reading this fic ergo the rec

arthur returns

A Faire Fight by Zaharya (@zaharya)

Arthur caught sight of Merlin when there were maybe fifteen of them left. He faltered, jaw dropping open, and it was pure luck the man charging at him had terrible aim, or he would’ve failed out of the melee right then and there. Pulling himself together, he made quick work of his attacker, before putting some distance between himself and the others to collect himself. And, perhaps, to stare just a little. Merlin was… magnificent. He wielded his sword like an extension of his own body — a lesson most of Arthur’s knights had never truly mastered. His movements were quick and precise, yet fluent, graceful in a way Arthur had never seen before, as he landed disqualifying hits on two, three, four opponents in rapid succession.

Or: The one where Merlin brings a returned Arthur to a medieval faire and they fight in a tournament.

~~~

safhjsdfhjdl so cutee

2. Let’s Talk by Salamandair

Merlin has had a terrible, awful, no good, very bad week. So, he goes and vents to the one person who would understand

~~~

as far as i am concerned, this is what happened in the last 5 minutes of merlin season 5

3. I think of loss and I can only think of you by wanderingtrickster

Arthur comes back... but not the way Merlin expects. On top of that, he can hardly believe it's real. Seriously, he... hardly believes it. Though it becomes easier when Camelot's former king tackles him into the bathtub and they both end up soaked. On top of that, Arthur is being surprisingly affectionate.

In his own way that is.

~~~

one of my fav arthur returns fics

#bbc merlin #merthur #merlin #merlin fic #merlin x arthur #merthur fluff #merthur fanfiction #merthur fic #merthur fanfic #merthur fic recs #merthur fic rec #merlin bbc #arthur returns #time travel #modern au

[whilmsy]

TCD Scar AU Drabble

hello welcome to my silly drabble inspired by @stiffyck and the anons that helped in the asks as i wrote! you are not immune to TCD Scar angst in its many forms across servers <3

------------------

Grian learnt about Scar’s trauma the hard way. 

A new season, a new day, and of course, new pranks. 

He’d set it up with a grin on his face and hid with a laugh hard to stop. He did it without a second thought, a way of welcoming his neighbour to the jungle! Grian did it without a second thought, they’d been quick to grow as friends after he first joined last season, and so Grian can’t help it when he wants to pull this trick on his friend. Mumbo’s next, he tells himself, plans already forming in his mind as he hides behind bamboo and watches the zombies bounce up from the water elevator. What Grian doesn’t expect to watch unfold is the way that Scar seems more and more scared as time goes by, as the mobs keep showing up. At first he takes it as his friend being overwhelmed with confusion, but the more he watches on, the more he can tell Scar is panicking.

It’s… not exactly what he planned for, to be honest. 

In front of him, he can hear Scar’s heavy gasps for oxygen, and that dread merging with guilt forms quickly, settling hard and heavy in his chest. Scar doesn’t panic like this, he doesn’t really show a sign of weakness despite the amount of times he dies on accident, and so to look at him and watch it unfold, it hurts that this isn’t fake.

This is real, and Grian feels frozen for a moment as he takes the scene in.

His friend is terrified, panicking and barely catching his breath. With wide eyes and a paleness to his skin that wasn’t there before, Scar seems to be in a sort of trance as he takes them out - and Grian will give it to the builder, he honestly thought Scar would’ve been taken down by now, but he knows he’s crossed a line he wasn’t meant to. The look on Scar’s face as he fights these undead is a look Grian knows too well; guilt, fear, exhaustion. Finally Grian frees himself out of his unmoving state from behind the line of bamboo, and he wastes no time racing forward with his axe drawn, coming in from behind to take down the closest zombie. He swears he hears Scar asking himself about not bringing a gun - he doesn’t want to think about the meaning of that just yet.

Taking down the mobs is hard, but they take them down quite quickly, and Scar uses a lot more aggression in his fighting style than Grian thought was possible for him. He doesn’t say anything until he blocks up the source of their exit with a block of cobblestone from his inventory

Grian takes a moment to catch his breath afterwards, frowning at the undead blood left staining his axe, and yet he decides to clean it off later with a wave of his hand as the weapon fades back into his inventory. Scar hasn’t, though - not that gracefully. His sword clutters to the ground and disappears back into his own inventory, and he seems on edge, calming himself with whispered words and clenched fists. He’s pleading, begging, for what exactly, Grian has no idea, but he knows he needs to help him - he started it after all. “Oh Scar, I’m so sorry.” He speaks as he moves, his hands on Scar’s shoulders at an attempt to keep his friend grounded. “I took the rest of them out-” “Were you bitten?” Scar’s voice is firm and straightforward in a way Grian hasn’t experienced before, and had never expected from him before; he looks him dead in the eyes but his expression shows nothing. The tension in his shoulders and the dull, panicked look in his wide eyes tells him so much and yet it tells him nothing at the same time. Bitten? What? “What? Scar-” “No- I need- Grian I need to know.” 

For someone so adamant on asking the man if he had been bitten during the fight, Grian frowns, because none of the mobs really had a moment to exactly grab him - and Scar would’ve seen that, right? “Scar, I promise you I wasn’t- I just- It was a prank, man,” It confuses him, Scar’s panic about that specifically, but the way his friend seems to show that bit of relief makes him both grateful and more concerned. “Why were you worried about that? Wait- that came out wrong, but you know what I mean, right?” Scar pauses again, a sense of defeat weighing him down as he closes his eyes and takes a moment to breathe. “You don’t need to explain it now actually, just take a moment, sorry. You’re worrying me, and I can’t help you if I don’t know why it got to you so much.” It sounds forceful, it probably is, but he can’t fix what he’s done if he doesn’t know how to fix it.

“It was- uhm… It was an old world, let's just say that,” Scar says it so casually, and yet his voice shakes. His hands are still clenched into fists, but they move as he crosses his arms over his chest; Grian frowns, lightening his grip on Scar’s shoulders. “I don’t know what happened or how it happened but… let’s just say me and zombies don’t get along well…or get along really well? It’s hard to really tell, but it’s like how Jellie was when she first met you, all weird around the new person and-” It’s obvious he’s changing the subject, Grian knows it too well by now with all the times ConCorp had worked back in their last season. “Scar,” his friend stops talking immediately, tensing right back up, “If you don’t want to talk about it in detail I’m not forcing you to, I just need to understand.” Another moment of silence, Grian doesn’t say anything else as he removes his hands from Scar’s shoulders and moves one of his hands down to Scar’s forearm - not once does he stop the grounding technique, and he leads them towards Scar’s starter base. Grian sits and leans against it, and Scar follows without complaint; he fidgets with his hands, running fingers along his knuckles as he looks at anything else but Grian, and yet he stays as close as he possibly can to him, and Grian rests his hand against Scar’s back. And Scar talks. He talks about bites and turnings and loneliness, of scavenging old buildings and travelling and loneliness. In every bit of this story, from the beginning until the end, there is loneliness. Scar doesn’t explain it all, even though he tries to, choking on his words and blinking back tears until Grian pulls him closer after wrapping an arm around his shoulders and the man breaks. Grian doesn’t ask him to keep going, he doesn’t want to be told until his friend feels comfortable enough to explain more - as much or as little as he wants to. “I'm sorry,” he says, and he means it. “You don’t need to be okay all the time, you don’t need to be sorry about holding it in, I’m sorry that you had to relive that. I’ll make sure to do my best so you don’t have to, alright?” Scar says nothing, but he nods, and it’s enough for that moment.

–

In this new game, the closest thing Scar has to having company is the red life at the bottom of a mountain - a friend he wants, who he’s willing to put himself into danger with - and the memories he has of every place that isn’t this one.

The loneliness is its own chokehold, crushing his ribcage and squeezing his heart; it’s so similar to a world before, a world that gave up on itself and yet still  lived on. At least the living dead were company, something that resembled a person. That’s what he tells himself. Up on a mountain, so far away and yet so close whenever people need him for a life or two, Scar mourns what he knows he will grow used to again - what he’s already used to. The only difference between now and then is that the undead crawling around his base during those days were a sense of normality - their undead groans were a comfort, they had been living before; if he looked at it from that perspective, it was both sickening and comforting in a way he had to get used to. The undead were better company then no company at all. He probably really needs to unlearn that, he knows that the mindset he had during that time isn’t okay, isn’t entirely healthy - but hey! At least he knows how to deal with loneliness!

Scar tells himself that, and yet the silence has never been more suffocating. 

And when the arrow enters his back and strikes true, he tells himself that at least he didn’t die alone; it’s so hard to believe when he’d given away everything he had for company, when no one’s there by his side. He misses Monopoly Mountain, even though his partner killed him after it all, it was so much better than this.

–

He feels as though he can’t catch his breath, his soul connected to Grian and their pain shared like a loop of him meowing back at Jellie when she would cry for food. They’ve once again become enemies with every member possible - though he tries not to think about secret soulmates and heartbreak. 

It’s hard to remember what’s happened since he lived from that high of a fall after he watched them attack some of the Jellie Panda’s, that’s really the last thing he can remember easily. The adrenaline of being on the run courses through his veins, the only difference between this game and the others is that in the first one he’d never been on the run, and in the second he hadn’t been wanted; though the only difference between the second game and this one is the fact that Grian didn’t him out of his sight in case he got into danger. It hurts a bit, knowing Grian wants another soulmate, that he has another soulmate, but he’d take it if Grian wanted to keep him around a moment longer. Despite knowing it’s because his soulmate didn’t want them to lose, he tries to believe it’s because he cares. They’re the last green lives for heaven's sake, cut him some slack! He wishes Grian would have faith in him, wishes all of them would. It’s all fuzzy, words spoken and anxious laughter shared. They were the last greens.

They had been until he and Grian started hearing those horrible, painfully familiar cries of the undead, and Scar’s heart drops in his chest just like he does into that pit of them.

He remembers asking “Is this safe?” and yet he knew it wouldn’t be.

Grian shouts for him in a panic, he doesn’t whether it be for their life or for Scar himself. There are other people talking too, and yet all he hears is Grian - asking him to do something, to get out, and he feels guilty for knowing they both feel his fear. Scar tries, he really, really, does, but the pain is too much, too familiar. 

Scar tries escaping, running through the hoard and trying to dig his way back up, but there’s nothing you can do when you’re cornered.

Teeth sink into his flesh, and the faint memory of jumping from a building - thinking he would make it only to break his leg and pump himself with enough drugs to keep him moving until he made it back to his base - comes to his mind as he screams, as Grian’s shouting echoes it. Scar remembers doing what he could’ve to fix himself up when no one else could; you learn a lot when you’re alone.

They had been the last greens, and when he heard Grian’s shouting cut short, feels another set of teeth sinking into his flesh, another cold hand gripping onto him, and then nothing? It’s not hard to tell he’d died and respawned.

He respawns in Pearl’s tower, body aching with phantom pains that he knows are probably scars now and his heart racing as his breath comes in short bursts while trying to calm himself. 

He’s in Pearl’s tower, his soulmate is Grian, and the world he’s in is not that one. He is not back there. What is hard is trying to keep his breathing steady. Cub wasn’t there to help him, reminding him of the world they made it to, his brother wasn’t there to keep his gasping breaths steady. Jellie wasn’t there to nudge him when she knew when something was up, to distract him when those thoughts of panic and dread swirled in his mind whenever he caught sight of one of the undead mobs that roamed as if they never died. Grian isn’t there, and though Scar doesn’t remember setting his spawn here after taking Pearl’s last bed, he does know that he needs to find his soulmate.

With trembling hands and a forced steadiness of his breathing after time that feels like minutes and hours of calming himself to the best of his ability, Scar makes his way down the tower - using his time on the ladder to make sure he could try and calm himself to the best of his ability.

He was expecting Pearl there, but he wasn’t expecting the entire Divorce Quartet or whatever the other members called them. He wasn’t expecting Cleo. Scar feels his heart pounding in his chest, feels the need to run all over again, and yet he puts on the businessman mask. Pearl’s look of understanding and a hint of pity is all too easy to see in her yellow gleaming eyes; she found out when Scar tried masking his breakdown after a run in with armoured zombies, and Grian held a meeting and explained it to their fellow Boatem members with Scar’s consent, but it still made him feel weak.

It makes him feel weaker when he takes a step back in panic after Cleo hands him steak, but he hopes she doesn���t take notice.

Scott asks how he died, and he tries to make himself sound as Scar as he possibly can when he explains the pit full of them. Ren’s zombie spawner, Martyn says, and that doesn’t make him feel any better. 

He rides back on Etho’s horse, in a daze with his anxiety simmering, but Grian destroying the spawner with eagerness after it all makes him feel a little bit better. Grian knew, and it felt nice to watch him destroy it when he knew his soulmate was doing it for him.

He makes a comment about becoming secret best friends with Joel and Etho - a subtle nudge at secret soulmates, but it doesn’t work, and so he continues on. At least they were the last greens. At least he wasn’t alone this time.

#gtws tcd #gtws #gtwscar #grian #double life grian #last life smp #ll!scar #double life smp #double life scar #dl!grian #dl!scar #hermitcraft #goodtimeswithscar #the crafting dead #ficification

[star-gazer101]

Ortho the Protective Brother

Continuation of this.

Pairing: Idia Shroud x Reader

Warnings: None.

Summary: Ortho analysis the Prefect. Also there’s bonding over indie games.

AN: I’ll admit, this was just an excuse to talk about my other favorite game.

-

The Prefect of Ramshackle.

Age: 16

Height and Weight: Unspecified 

Grade: First Year

Class: Class A (No. 9)

Grade Rank: Average

Status: Single(?)

Ortho wasn’t sure how to feel about Idia having potential feelings for the prefect. On one hand, it meant that his brother was finally coming out of his shell. The other, there was no guarantee that the Prefect liked him back. Sure, their heart rate had gone up, but it always went up whenever a random student appeared all of a sudden. (Or Crowley for that matter.)

Ortho just chalked it up to them being oddly shy. But it didn’t stop him from being a little suspicious. 

Shyness aside, they were very affectionate to those who are close, himself included. Innocently, the prefect would be held or hugged by one person to the next. Be it from fellow first year Ace, or the overly clingy second year Kalim. And not once do they seem to mind.

Are they always this friendly, or was this some long-term ploy to hurt his dear brother?

If he were a desperate man, blackmail would’ve been used to stop them from hanging out in their dorm. But no matter how anyone would dice it, the prefect is a pretty straight-laced person through and through. And it was hard trying to demonize them when they weren’t even a threat to begin with.

But still, thought the young Shroud as he stared at Vil bringing his hand to stroke back the prefect’s strand of hair. 

What if he’s right?

-

“Are you sure you’re prepared for this Player 2? You might be extremely under-leveled.”

“...I-I’m sure! E-even if I’m not, I wanna at least try! Protection or not!”

A smirk. “Alright then. I won’t stop you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Sigh. Not this again.

Friday afternoons were always like this. By the time class ended and students headed back to their dorms, Idia would order takeout and spend the rest of the weekend playing nothing but games and marathoning anime. And since you are now a part of their lives, an extra controller was saved just for you with a super comfy blanket to snuggle in.

Normally, it was the usual AAA titles that played on the screen. However, Idia had lately grown fond of smaller indie games that seemed to catch your eyes. And because of it, the two of you bonded even closer…Unfortunately.

Today, the housewarden had got you hooked on an overlooked indie game simply called “Paper Bugs”. A paper-like RPG with quickly timed actions when attacking or blocking against enemies. It even had a great set of characters to love. It somehow reminded you of a certain plumber back in your world.

Currently, you are in the Honey Factory in said game, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come. You completed all of the puzzles, rescued the factory workers, and defeated the mini boss without his help. All that was left was the main boss. 

Idia watched you as you entered the last room, not once judging you for your lack of using any important badges that would make this battle easier. Honestly, he was impressed that you made it this far.

Guess he’ll watch the many game overs you will have with this difficulty spike. You are such a noob.

Again, Ortho sighed at the scene. You guys were being way too comfortable with each other, and you weren’t even dating. Shoulders touching, stroking of hands–you even had the gall to let his brother lean on you!

Do you even have any decency?

“Shoot! My party died again! Idia, you were distracting me again!”

“Heavy Drone B-33 shows no mercy to those who are weak-willed. Not my fault you weren’t paying attention. Try again, Player 2. Unless…You want me to kiss it all better?”

Okay, better nip this in the bud real quick! Idia is making a bigger fool of himself!

“Tch, as i–”

“Iddiiiaaa, you and the prefect are taking too long! When do I get a turn?” Okay, maybe not the best idea in Ortho’s opinion, but it did stop both of you from going any further.

“Eh? Ortho?”

Quickly, Ortho settled himself in the middle of the couch between Idia and you; doing his absolute best to use his boyish charm to fool you. “This game is multiplayer right? Can I play too?”

Thankfully, you didn’t suspect him. “Actually, it’s single player. I can make you a file if you want.”

“Really? Thanks!”

Idia, however, did. “Ortho, what are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing big bro!” He lied. “I was starting to feel lonely and wanted to join in on your hangout! I’m sure “big sib” won’t mind!”

Idia raised a brow. “Big sib?”

“It’s fine, Idia.” You reassured. “I can always fight this boss later. Since we have different clubs and separate classes, I never had the chance to spend more time with your brother either. So, it’s fine, right?”

As much as he wanted to say no, the combination of puppy eyes from both you and his brother eventually made him cave in.

Honestly, Ortho can be such a troublemaker.

And Ortho knew how to get his way.

Better luck next time.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #idia shroud #ortho shroud #reader insert

[readnburied]

Book Review: Rouge by Mona Awad

Date of Publishing: September 12th, 2023

Author: Mona Awad

Publisher: S&S/Marysue Rucci Books

Genre: Horror Literary Fiction, Gothic

This is a standalone novel and follows the story of Mirabelle (Belle) who sees beauty in every person except herself. Growing up as the daughter of a beautiful woman, Belle does whatever she can to make herself look beautiful, even sign up for a salon named Rouge which her Mother kept mentioning before she died. However, Rouge is not what it appears to be and Belle soon realizes that the price of beauty is sometimes to steep to pay. 

I’m obsessed with Mona Awad’s books and her writing style. I don’t know how she comes up with such unique concepts and able to weave such an intriguing narrative but this is one seriously talented author and I strive to be as good as her. I. AM. NOT. JOKING. 

The plot line that mixes the beauty standards of today’s day and age with fairytales was quick to suck me in and I really enjoyed reading about the vast number of beauty products that Belle uses in an attempt to appear beautiful to the world. 

Moreover, the mystery surrounding her Mother’s death was an entire roller-coaster and I have to say the lady in red who appears at her Mother’s funeral was one of my favorite characters in the book; the male counter part being the other, but this author really told the world that the beauty standards now are fairly dangerous and crippling. I could sense some kind of sub text in the form of criticism about how expensive beauty treatments are these days and not everyone can afford them despite having the right to be beautiful. I’m not sure if the author intended it but that’s what I got from reading the book. 

The characters were strange and mysterious as the rest of the story. Like they had a back story but as a reader I was left wondering exactly what the back story was. Belle’s mother clearly had a lot of relationships which were explored in the novel, but there were some characters I’m still wondering about; especially a dark and brooding detective who had a penchant for disguise. Though his story was explored as well, I would’ve liked to have gotten to know him a little deeper. 

Mona Awad has done a fantastic job by adding a touch of creepiness in the form of the mannequins. I never imagined mannequins to be as interesting as she portrayed them. But now every time I’d look at a mannequin I wouldn’t just think of it as a figure of plaster but something more. Something that could be more. 

The psychological aspect woven through the entire story was downright genius and that’s what gave the story the depth it possessed. From the obsession with mirrors and beauty to the mannequins that talked and breathed as if they were real, it was intense and it was thrilling. 

And the best part was the jellyfish. I am obsessed with jellyfish and the author putting the spotlight on such beautiful, mysterious creatures stole my heart. The jellyfish taking center stage really made me fall in love with the story and I really wish I could keep a jellyfish as a pet. Furthermore, the jellyfish being a symbol for one’s memories and soul just shows how malleable and fluid a person’s thoughts can be. I also think the author kind of hinted at a future where it’d be easy for people to get rid of unhappy or traumatic memories as that kind of technology is being invented as I write this. But then the question arises, what are we without our memories? Just a bunch of mannequins—wearing identical expressions and having no opinion of our own. So this story really does leave the reader with plenty of food for thought because one really ask themselves whether they really want to get rid of the painful memories. 

The entire tone of the story is dark and mysterious. Since the start of the story I was filled with questions and read the entire book just to seek the answers. The focus on mirrors was an intriguing aspect to the story just like the jellyfish. And the man in the mirror does seem like the negative voice inside everyone’s head which tells them they’re not good enough and need to work harder to look beautiful. 

Beauty, though makes the world more appealing can be incredibly lethal if it’s forced.

All in all, this book is a must read for everyone and I’m looking forward to Mona Awad’s upcoming books—whenever that maybe. I’m only left with one book by this author which I have yet to read and rest assured I’ll be doing that as soon as I get the chance. But I highly recommend this book to everyone and I urge you all to give this book a chance as soon as possible.  

#read n buried #reading #booklr #books and reading #book #books #books & libraries #book blog #currently reading #book community #Book Review #book recommendations #new books #book blogger #book club #Bookish #bookworm #bookstagram #book tumblr

[dragonsarecool]

Febwhump Day 23 - Presumed Dead

A/N: Returning home permanently without Doc means Marty has trouble coping with his new world. Set prior to Episode I - It’s About Time.

Settling back into 1985 hadn’t been as smooth as he’d anticipated, considering he’d only spent two weeks in other time periods. 

It wasn’t that he felt out of place. On the contrary; he was so relieved to see modern plumbing and his electric guitar that he could’ve cried. Being able to have a proper shower to scrub away the dirt and strum out some chords did more for his mental health was, he decided, better than any therapist could’ve offered him.

It took a few days before he realised what was making it difficult to resettle: he was lonely.

Yes, he did have his family, but the more time he spent with them and learnt just exactly what changes had resulted from his actions in 1955, the more he began to feel like a stranger. This was a family that had been raised by a confident George and supportive Lorraine. Dave was in a high-paying executive position, sporting flashy suits and drinking coffee beans from countries Marty couldn’t begin to pronounce, while Linda was a secretary and halfway through planning an extravagant wedding.

Marty also hadn’t appreciated until now exactly how much time he would spent at Doc’s house. It wasn’t until he was around the corner from the lab that he realised he’d been skating from the school on autopilot, and hesitantly turned away to head home. He couldn’t bring himself to actually lay eyes on his favourite place in the whole world; even thinking about how the place was now abandoned and rotting away was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

On nights when he would have been tinkering with Doc’s latest inventions and sharing a Burger King feast with him, he now lay despondently on his bed, staring at the ceiling with unshed tears. This was worse than death, he thought. At least with death, he knew that someone had no chance of coming back. Yet Doc wasn’t dead, but it seemed almost certain that they would ever meet again.

The influx of rapid change was sometimes too much for him, and he found himself clinging to the one thing left that was familiar. Jennifer had gotten used to Marty turning up at her bedroom window at unholy hours, even if it was just for a singular kiss or quick cuddle. She never protested or asked questions, and always held him as tenderly as she did before it all changed.

Yet he continued to cling to the tiniest scrap of hope that he would return. 

He found it easier than accepting the truth.

October turned into November, and November somehow melted into March faster than he would’ve appreciated. He and Jennifer had been idly flipping through the real estate section of the newspaper, discussing what sort of dream first home they wanted to aim for.

When Marty spotted it, a cold shiver came over his body. His grip on the newspaper stiffened as his eyes remained hyper-focused on the paper, ignoring Jennifer’s concerned gaze.

A tiny black and white photograph of a very familiar estate, now decorated with a ‘For Sale’ sign.

For. Sale.

But it’s not for sale. 

He never agreed to it!

“They can’t do that!” Marty cried angrily, throwing the newspaper in a heap. He was surprised at the sudden rage that had come over him. “T-They can’t! He never…he never wanted to sell it!”

“Well what choice do they have, Marty?” Jennifer said softly. “For all they know, he is dead-“

“But he’s NOT!” Marty leapt from his position on the couch, pacing around the living room in anger. “He’s not dead!! What’ll he say when he comes back and sees his house has got someone else living in it?!”

“Who are we to say he is coming back, Marty?”

The young man sighed slowly. He didn’t want to admit Jennifer was right, for it meant he was abandoning his hope. “B-But if he’s not coming back, then he’s as good as dead, Jen! A-and I don’t wanna believe that!”

Not after he’s already died once in front of me.

Jennifer rose to her feet, squeezing Marty’s shoulders in the exact spots she knew would make him relax. She allowed a brief silence to pass before proposing an idea. “Would it help if we go and see the house?”

Marty was puzzled. “What do-“

“I mean if you see that sign yourself. See how run-down and ruined it is,” Jennifer nuzzled into his neck. “Do you think it would help make it more real for you?”

Part of Marty wanted to say no. To yell and scream about how he already brought his friend back from death once. To say how he couldn’t bear the thought of living without him.

But Doc’s final words kept coming to mind in moments like this. The future is whatever I make it. 

Is this what I’m destined to do now? To whinge and moan about how shitty I feel? I know Doc would tell me off for it…

I guess I should try to make it a good one and not wallow like a pitiful son of a bitch.

Marty nodded. “Let’s give it a try.”

#bttf #fanfiction #back to the future #whump #febwhump #febwhump24 #febwhump2024

[kittydemon9000]

SO MORE STONE KAI

Ichiro had been traveling across the land for weeks when he first spotted the house. It stood alone atop the hill, surrounded by rice fields and a single path that he assumed led to more houses.

And he kinda just. Watches the house from afar for a while. He doesn’t really know if he should talk to them or not since most of the time he does people either run away, scream, try throwing things at him, or all three

But then one night while he was watching the house, he noticed a group sneaking in. It didn’t seem right to him. The three human residents were already inside and he’d never seen other humans enter when the lights were off.

He decides to go investigate

It was actually a good call on his part. When he tries to sneak in, the group has the three cornered in one of the rooms, the biggest one trying to fend them off with a sword and fire and the smallest one has water leaking from her eyes.

He quickly takes care of them

He doesn’t kill them, but he does break some bones and sends them running for the hills. Who would’ve guessed getting punched by a being of indestructible stone would do that to a person.

Ray thanks him and Ichiro has no clue what to do, because this human isn’t afraid of him???? Even though he just saw him severely injure other humans????

Ichiro just kinda leaves, but still watches the shop. Only this time the Smith’s know he’s there. Maya even invites him inside a few times and they get to know each other.

Like how he has no idea who he is. 

And doesn’t really have a place to stay

Yeah, they adopt him pretty quickly into the family. Nya’s actually the one to gave him his name, since “Mom and dad said that if I ever get a brother, they were gonna name him Kai, and you’re like a big brother :DDDD” Nya also likes to paint and decorate his stone skin, and he always gets so sad when it chips or needs to get washed off, so Maya began to take pictures so he can remember them.

After a while, Ray actually gets back in touch with Wu so he can get Kai a sort of glamour to make him look more human, and it eventually arrives in the form of a simple platinum ring.

Kai cries a bit when he finds out he can go into town like a normal person. Ray and Maya had to keep a close eye on him because he kept almost wandering off. Ray also teaches Kai how to forge and he’s a pretty quick learner, which just makes both of them happier and closer together. He eventually passes his power onto Kai, but doesn’t have time to tell him before Krux kidnaps him and Maya.

And Kai…. Kai always got weird feelings from Dr.Saunders. He didn’t like him, but never brought these concerns to Ray and Maya, but he always made sure Nya wasn’t anywhere close when he visited. And once the parents disappear, Kai swore he would do his best to raise Nya just as well as they raised him, after all it’s the least he could do repay their kindness.

Kai also becomes very thankful he doesn’t need to sleep and spends many nights in the forge finishing orders and such. But he does try to not overwork himself, after all Nya worries.

After their disappearance, Kai stopped taking off the glamor ring, even when he “slept,” pretty much to the point that Nya kinda forgets about his real Stone body. She’s aware that Kai isn’t human, but she just doesn’t remember quite what he looked like without the ring and doesn’t want to ask since it seems rude and he looked just so. Happy being seen as a human. Even years later he practically glowed when people called him “young man” or “kid.”

Fast forward a few years to when the Skulkin show up. Kai is a little upset that Wu wasted time saving him since he would’ve been fine, but knows that A Normal Human Teen would’ve probably died so he brushes it off.

Speaking of Wu, he just. Stares at Kai for a few seconds, for two reasons

1) he doesn’t remember Ray and Maya mentioning they had another kid, but spots the glamour ring and assumes adoption, probably of the magic variety

And 2) he could swear he’s seen Kai before. He doesn’t know what it is, but he’s so familiar. He chalks the second thing up to the glamour because part of the way it works was making who it’s hiding unrecognizable to those who knew them. there’s also the fact it’s been well over 1000 years since he last saw Ichiro, so there’s that too

During the Get Golden Weapons, the dragons get very weird vibes from Kai. Like, he absolutely reeks of Creation, but also quite a lot of Destruction, plus something they can’t identify(magic from The Overlord). They don’t really know how to feel about him, but he’s pretty nice and the other humans trust him, so they mostly ignore it.

The situation with Nindroid Zane goes a little different with Kai being more respectful of Zane’s “weirdness,” mostly because he recognizes the behavior to be similar to his own when he washed up on Ninjago and first started living with the Smiths. He’s also super supportive after the truth is revealed, for obvious reasons, but is also more relaxed around the others and even starts planning to maybe possibly reveal to them the truth someday.

The volcano scene is where things start going a little more different.

Such as how parts of Kai’s gi start burning away from the lava, but he doesn’t seemed bothered by the heat. In fact, Lloyd would swear he saw his foot slip into the lava for a few moments, but he just chalked it up to the heat messing with his vision.

S2 has even more of these subtle differences.

1st off, Kai has a much easier time with the birthday kids since he can’t feel pain, but doesn’t quite tells the others what happening during the parties since that’ll make them suspicious and worry. He also tries to eat as scarcely as possible in order to save money since he also doesn’t need to eat.

The Time Rewind with the Grundle does Literally Nothing™ since Kai is a few million years old, 7 years ain’t gonna do shit.

But then we enter the last few episodes :D

When they go to the museum and see the Giant Stone Warrior, Kai is getting weird and bad feelings from it, like he’s torn between running away, trying to reason with it, and turning it to rubble. But at the same time, it’s also familiar, reminding him of some of the swords he kept that Ray made.

And then when I takes up, the Warrior is like “wait, that’s Master’s son what’s he doing here by himself” and is just trying to grab him to take back home, which the ninja just interpret it as the warrior wanting to kill him. After all, the Stone Warriors were enchanted to prioritize Ichiro/Kai’s safety above all else.

This starts him fearing his true form, especially after what Misako and Wu tell them about the Stone Warriors. He was created to bad, for evil, yet for some reason he is different from them and he’s terrified he’ll turn on his family.

Nya also has a vague feeling of familiarity seeing the Warrior, but doesn’t know exactly what it is.

And then of course. Things get worse :)

When Garmadon takes the helmet to control the Warriors and starts the Countdown Clock, Kai gets a weird chill. He doesn’t know what just happened, but he knows it was Very Very Bad. Then later when they land on the island, Kai immediately feels off.

The place is so familiar, like he’s been here before. Yet it’s also so forign in a “I swear that rock wasn't there last time” way.

Upon their landing, The Overlord also noticed a strange presence on the island, an old and familiar one, but he can’t place it, nor track it.

Anyway, the ninja go to infiltrate the Dark Camp, and all the Warriors get thrown off by Kai’s presence so they get chased out, but he’s able to accidentally remember the location of the temple but plays it off by saying he found a map.

But the main change happens on the beach, just as Garmadon and the Overlord are about to leave for Ninjago.

It goes mostly the same at first. Garmadon succeeds and hits Ninjago with the Dark Matter, The Overlord betrays him, Lloyd tries to fight them and looses, BUT this time The Overlord decides it would be best to finish Lloyd off.

But then Kai takes the shot for him.

For a second everyone thinks Kai’s about to die

But it only destroys his clothes and the glamor.

The Overlord is in shock

His son…..his son was alive

He was alive and standing before him, looking exactly the same as when he was taken away. The same charcoal skin, the same acid green eyes, the same red, carved clothing that was enchanted to behave like regular cloth.

And he was overjoyed.

His son was here and alive and okay.

Meanwhile Kai is freaking out because what the hell why is the Overlord calling him “Ichiro”

Kai finally snaps when the Overlord starts saying he’s his father, at which Kai yells at him that NO YOU’RE NOT, RAY SMITH IS!!!

This then get the Overlord angry.

He ends up correctly figuring out that the reason Kai doesn’t remember is because the barrier took out the Overlord’s magic, so he just. Dumps Dark Matter on him.

And Kai has a Very Bad Time.

In the span of seconds, millions of years of memories are being returned to him. His head hurts, it hurts so much, there’s too much, too many, stop it, please make it stop.

And then The Overlord just kinda. Picks up Kai like a kid and leaves through the portal along with the rest of the Stone Army.

Everyone is left freaking out

Kai’s a Stone Warrior?!? And his name is Ichiro?!? He’s The Overlord’s son??! What?!

Wu meanwhile is sitting in shock, mostly at the fact that Ichiro was alive. After all, the FSM told him and Garmadon that Ichiro had died in order to avoid their anger at him accidentally banishing him.

When the others start questioning Kai’s loyalty and motives when he steps in though and explains the story of Ichiro and his creation and the real reason for the war. They’re all left reeling, feel horrible for doubting Kai, and getting ready to murder both The Overlord and the FSM, because let’s be real, both messed up pretty bad.

When Lloyd finally gets to the top of the tower, he finds not only the Overlord, but also Kai. He’s incredibly out of it, still in a lot of pain, but he’s here. And his presence is enough to give Lloyd confidence, because he’t not alone his older brother is here with him.

So at the end of the fight, which now included some encouragement from Kai, on top of Garmadon being healed, Kai gets his memories back :DDDD

He also gets a lot of trauma too but that’s not important

In the space between S2 and 3 Kai opens up about his past, reconnects with Wu and Garmadon, and they try to get him to get therapy but he refuses/avoids going so they mostly just talk to him one on one.

Bit of course……season 3 is it’s own fun time :)

#stone kai au #:D #Info Dump #ninjago #kai #kai smith #the overlord #nya #nya smith

[laurent--stpierre]

10 DEATHS FOR 10 YEARS [3 of 6]:

HMS Trash Ship sailed for ten whole seconds before hitting an iceberg. Everyone died. This isn’t a whole lot of content relevant to the plot (perhaps just what’s cleared up in the beginning) but I’ve been meaning to write it for a while, and it all ties in to what’s going on so. Fucking deal with it, I guess. 

Date: May 10th, 2022. Warnings: No death. Just feelings.

It was only ever meant to be business.  

The Frenchman, somewhat ironically, had her ex of all people to thank for that.

Though Laurent would eventually become her biggest advocate within the French ranks, not one of them had trusted her in the beginning; rightfully so, he supposed, when she’d done nothing to deserve it. Aurélie would've agreed to anything Dawar asked of her, though, and whilst he would never understand why the fuck that man had an unmatched influence over two of the most powerful and stubborn women he’d ever met, he also wasn’t in any position to question the head of the organization.  

Or her motives.

Laurent had never doubted that hers didn’t necessarily line up with Amir’s desire to protect his former fiancée. Aurélie might’ve been one of the kindest souls he’d ever met, but when it came to Lara, a side of her sprung to life that seemed almost alien in comparison. It was a real, genuine hatred that’d once been because of the nightmares that’d transpired during their transition to Porto Velho. When it became clear the Rutherfords were responsible for bringing the Russians to London, however, something utterly unforgiveable to a family who’d suffered for so long at their hands, the escalation in hostility was immense.  

The welcoming party for the Russians had almost spelled Aurélie’s death.

It had taken two people from her that she cared so much about.

Laurent knew that she would blame everybody who’d ever dared associate with the British for it.

Whatever had been discussed by his boss and Boy Forbes was none of his business, but Aurélie had been quick to capitalise on his flirtatious albeit meaningless back-and-forth with the Rutherford heiress. They needed somebody to act as a go-between, though it took some time for them to inform him just why that was. Laurent didn’t really know what he’d expected from somebody as supposedly heartless as Lara, but for her to consider slipping them information about their Russian allies in return for assurances that whilst she and the Rutherford men would not be off limits, her uninvolved siblings would, was not it.  

When was a traitor not a traitor?

-  -  -  

“I do not want to talk to you.”

Oh, she’d hated him, well and truly, and didn’t even try to hide the fact. Disdain clung to every word fired his way, and whilst she apparently wasn’t one for obscenities, if he could’ve read her mind, Laurent was sure he’d have found more than a few just for him.

“Well, you’re shit out of luck. I’m the only one she trusts to be in the same room as you without smashing your head into a fucking wall,” he threw back. And that had been a genuine concern, actually... “You realise she agreed to this knowing it'd benefit you and your shitty fucking family? Maybe try some gratitude.”

“Ah, yes. Because she gets nothing in return, obviously.”

“That tends to be how trades work, yeah. Your information about their plans means our guarantee that nobody touches Yvonne, or your weird fucking brothers.”

“And Adriana,” she corrected in a heartbeat, words searing.

“Wait, wait, hang on a second...nobody said anything about me not touching Adriana.”

It’d been meant as a joke, naturally, but the paperweight she’d grabbed off his desk and launched at his head seemed much less funny.

-  -  -  

The arrangement in question had never been common knowledge amongst the French.  

The risks were already immeasurable—to the St. Clair family, and the one slipping them the information—and involving anybody who wasn’t absolutely necessary seemed a needless risk.  

Laurent could’ve picked anywhere in the city as a sensible meeting place, yet he’d always chosen to drag her to her ex-fiancé’s obnoxious fucking hotel like the petty little bitch he was. Just because he could. Back then, he would’ve taken any opportunity that presented itself to rub salt into her wounds.  

How times changed.

Tonight, he was sat alone at his usual table in AU contemplating how best to avoid doing exactly that.

At no point had anything between them run smoothly, but he liked to think that over the years—because fucking hell, it had been years—he’d gotten to know her in a way most others would never get the chance. Understood things about her that went against the general, mostly negative, consensus. But Lara Rutherford was nothing if not complicated, and as much as there was plenty of dark hidden beneath the surface that proved the concerns of others were not entirely misplaced, he’d seen more things worth caring about.

Things that made his choice to stay in London harder than he’d ever expected it would be.

People would say what they wanted about her. Laurent knew she’d learned to care less.

But to him, in spite of all the bad, most tellingly of all, she was the kind of woman willing to make a deal with her very own devil to protect the people she loved.

And that’d resonated with him in ways she’d never understand.

-  -  -  

“Do not brag about this to your friends. I don’t want anybody to know I’m slumming.”

If he’d rolled his eyes any harder, they’d have fallen out of his fucking face.

Given that he hadn’t expected he’d end up fucking her in the very same room she was fucking the entirety of the Russian mob—despite being ready to offer his very best attempts, mind you—it'd taken surprisingly little effort. For all the ways in which her reputation preceded her, that wasn’t one of them.

“That’s very fucking funny, but don’t flatter yourself. They’re already all over me about my shitty taste in women. I’m not about to hand them any more ammunition.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

For a moment, as she finally slipped back into her suit jacket, the room fell silent.  

The Rutherford would depart shortly after, but not without confirming: “Same time next week, then?”

-  -  -  

And it had become a regular thing, despite the promises he’d made to both his boss, and himself, about using this to prove to his doubters that he could keep it professional.

Had she ever really expected that, though, or was choosing him a set up from the start?

A twisted way to test the loyalty of a man who had never been anything but?

Laurent glanced over at a line of shots the length of his fucking arm, before picking up yet another. Alcohol always made for the ultimate emotional crutch. If he could walk out of AU of his own volition tonight, he’d consider it a failure, because he’d decided quickly that didn’t want to be able to walk at all. He didn’t want to think about the fact she was probably sat in some dingy fucking hotel bar right now, hopeful and expectant that he’d show up for her, just like he always did. He didn’t want to think about how the last time they’d met, he could see it in her eyes that the upset she held for him was different this time.  

That she was hurting.

And that was precisely the problem.

Somebody else had entered their dysfunction, and things were different.

-  -  -  

Something he’d learned over time was that mornings played host to her most vulnerable moments.  

It was as if she took a while to get back into her stride; to remember the details of the character that’d become indistinguishable from the person she was to those who didn't know any better. Sometimes, she smiled more. Those were the rare mornings they shared that he liked the most, even if her amusement happened to be at his expense. Mostly, though, it was the opposite. Laurent had never imagined he’d meet another person who did as well to hide how hopelessly sad they were, but she was such a fucking expert, he could have learned a thing or two if he wasn’t trying so damn hard to fix it.

Since the cluster fuck at her fight club, she’d been so different it made his heart ache.

She’d lost something. A part of who she was.

Laurent would’ve done anything to give back what his poor choices had taken from her that night.

“Don’t do that...”

Usually, she would’ve disappeared on him by now. If not from his place entirely, she’d use getting ready as an excuse to cover up the mess Noa had made with enough makeup to feel satisfied.

Not today, though.

This time, she was still half asleep when he woke; blissful, almost, as though she’d forgotten she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. She had his right arm pinned beneath her, same as always, but as he reached up his free hand to attempt to tidy the hair obscuring her from view, she seemed aware enough of what was going on to bury her head between the crook of his neck and his pillow.  

“Stop trying to hide.”

“No,” she mumbled, her arm slipping around his torso in a way that made her difficult to pry away again.

Laurent wondered if she still blamed him for what’d happened.  

He sure fucking blamed himself.  

It’d taken months for her to see him again after she’d been attacked on the balcony, and even then, it’d been in an agonizingly professional capacity. Lara would update him on any information, and then leave him again before he could even figure out how to ask how she was doing. No trading of insults. She barely even looked at him. It’d hollowed him out in a way he hadn’t been anticipating, because he hadn’t expected to miss her at all.

But he did. He did fucking miss her.

Until he’d managed to choke out an apology so sincere, he could hardly believe it was for a Rutherford.

Eventually, Lara put a fractional amount of distance between them again, and he realised then that she was definitely starting to wake up. The scars that covered almost all of her face were still obvious enough that they made her uncomfortable. Her eye, particularly without the contact lens to mask the damage, even more so. But whilst she seemed to think she lacked something for the changes, all he could think about was how glad he was to have her back at all.

When his thumb trailed against a particularly nasty scar beneath her left eye, she’d shifted uncomfortably. Drawing attention to them always set her on the defensive.

Until his lips followed the same path.  

And all the fight left her in an instant.  

-  -  -  

Laurent often wondered whether he consciously chose to stand in the way of his own happiness.

When Zahira had become more to him than another number to dial for casual sex, he’d been adamant that he was going to end whatever was going on between himself and the Rutherford. Partly because he knew that his new girlfriend was too decent of a person to be subject to that level of disrespect—the kind of person he could have, and should’ve wanted to be happy with—but partly because he couldn’t help but feel as though things with Lara had escalated beyond both their control. It no longer felt like a game. Like fun.

For him, at least, it was getting too serious.  

Had they been any other two people in the world, he would’ve been sure enough to embrace the fear in an instant. But they weren’t any two people.  

And so Zahira, who he loved in his own way, became an out.

For a while.

The French adored her, and that spoke volumes when they often didn’t care for anybody outside of their own ranks. Perhaps even more surprisingly, she’d taken to them, too. Zahira was smart as whip, and so fucking beautiful, and everything any normal man would’ve considered to be too good for them. Most importantly, though, she was there. And yet still, the more time passed him by, the more his mind wandered instead to a woman who could only ever be a dream, and not his reality.

Until the one right in front of him didn’t feel so much like an out anymore.

-  -  -  

“Diana sent me a picture of the ring. You're so tacky.”

Laurent had wondered how long it would take her to bring up his recent engagement.

“Why the interest? Jealous?”

The woman, who had been slowly pacing the width of his living room, cradling his cat like a literal child, paused only to shoot him a look that very convincingly assured him the answer was no.

“Jasper bought you one, yet?”

Then she smirked.

“Why the interest? Jealous?” She mocked.  

Even though her amusement remained clear, his faded.

The admission was blunt enough to catch her off guard: “Yes.”

-  -  -

There had never once been a dull moment with Lara; of that, he was sure.

A particular favourite was a post-fight club morning. The Rutherford had snatched the cell phone that had awoken her off the bedside table, informed him without missing a beat that it was his other-half, and watched innocently as he’d greeted Oliver Parra of all people with a panicked ‘hey babe.’ The Frenchman had almost yeeted her and the damn phone across the room. Not without telling his best friend that the woman’s laugh in the background belonged to a Brenton fucking hooker, though...

Many of those recollections came to life in his quieter moments—both as reminders to smile, and reminders that he was a terrible fucking person—and back when his life had felt like it was falling apart, just as readily as now, he hadn’t quite learned how to stop thinking about her. Maybe it would’ve been easier to blame the Rutherford’s penchant for manipulation, but Laurent knew it was because he didn’t want to.  

Would he have been doing exactly that in the middle of a bar otherwise?

Karma had eventually taken Zahira away from him—a deserved loss, given the way he’d treated her—and just like always, Lara had been there for him to fall back on. But despite the Frenchman’s best attempts to settle back into a routine he still tried to convince himself was meaningless, another person would soon enter the picture and turn his world on its fucking head.

At the time, he hadn’t realised it would be so meaningfully.  

‘It is you who keeps putting yourself in that place. It is you who decides that you are not good. It is you who wants to place himself at the bottom of that god damned hole.’

When he’d met with her in the hotel room on the night of the awards, he’d expected everything to unravel before his very eyes; a deserved loss, just like Zahira had been. And yet, Leyla had once again proven herself to be a rare exception it would still take some convincing that he was worthy of. The words had been tough to hear, perhaps because they’d been so honest, but Laurent had carried them around with him ever since. They were food for thought. And it was about time he started fucking thinking of something else.  

How many years had he spent sabotaging his attempts at happiness because he didn’t feel he deserved it?

How many women had passed through his life—ones that should’ve stayed—because he’d made the decision that they deserved better, instead of letting them choose for themselves?

Maybe he’d invested so much in Lara because he knew, in the end, none of it would fucking matter.

Meeting Leyla had been an intervention of fate, he supposed. The universe’s way of giving him one last chance, with a woman determined to get through to him in a way few others had made the effort, to choose happiness instead of perpetual misery. To choose someone wonderful, instead of being alone. To choose somebody who made him want to try, instead of sitting back and accepting a fate that was far easier to stomach than the idea of losing somebody else who mattered.

Yet when Lara had asked him to fly out to Launceston, he hadn’t even hesitated to book the flight. The immediate thought had been gratitude that she was no longer upset with him. That she’d moved past the insult of him abandoning their Valentine’s Day date in Monaco to return home to London for somebody else.

And maybe that was what had him realising so much of this was just fucking habit.  

Perhaps, one that he was finally ready to break.

Seeing Leyla’s name pop up on his screen—messages for him now, instead of the man he’d pretended to be—Laurent realised that she was the reason why.

‘I’m sorry,’ had been all he offered Lara in his absence.

They were words that weighed heavy for a multitude of reasons. Laurent was sorry that things couldn’t be different, and that they’d never really know what could’ve been if they were. He was sorry that he’d once again relegated a woman far more sensitive that she would admit to second choice. He was sorry that he’d wasted so much of his time tormenting himself with both the things they had been, and would never become. He was sorry that he’d realised too late, too far in, that he hadn’t looked at somebody the way he looked at her since Pénélope...

The only thing he wasn’t sorry for, though? 

That it was ending.  

If he’d been smarter, Laurent would’ve dropped his phone back into his pocket after that; returned to his shots, got black-out drunk, and remembered only the words he’d sent her, instead of the emotion that had that’d been clawing at his fucking chest as he did it. But when the fuck had he ever been smart?  

It took no time to find her. Less to hit dial.

As he waited for her to pick up, the Frenchman pushed away the last of his shots. He was done.

The ringing ended, and the relief was real.

“Hey...” When he realised there wasn’t even a hint of annoyance at the interruption from the woman on the other end, the night’s exasperation seemingly faded in an instant. In spite of the depths his mind had sunk to, for the first time since he’d walked into that bar, he found himself smiling. “I’m sorry, Leyla. I know it’s late. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

#self para #death of kate's trashest of ships

[themosleyreview]

The Mosley Review: Top Gun: Maverick

Way back when I played so many games on my Playstation 2, I rented one of the greatest games I've ever played. Ace Combat 4: Shattered Skies was the most thrilling experience in aerial dogfighting I've ever had and I fell in love with the franchise. It was the closest I'd ever come to recreating the same since of speed and tension that the original Top Gun gave me as a child. That film is an 80's staple and still one of the best films of all time. The trend to make sequels to classic films 20+ years later has sort of died down a bit which is good. It is truly heartbreaking to add a film that tarnishes the legacy of the original and fortunately, this film adds on and strengthens that legacy. From the opening frames to the last shot, this film captured the magic of the original and seamlessly updates it for todays technology and audience. It was an unfathomable amount of fun and the emotional beats the story had was truly earned. The action was fantastic and real which is hard to say compared to the more CGI led films today. I loved that it was shot for real with minimal CGI. It gave the true feeling of being a Naval Pilot and you feel the amount G's these characters pull in every bank, climb or spiral. The action is always the great, but it would've been nothing without the relatable and excellent character work done by the stellar cast.

Tom Cruise returns as Capt. Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and he hasn't skipped a beat. You can see the amount of care that Tom put into bringing back his career making role and the amount of fun he's genuinely having. I loved that Maverick still has that hotshot edge to him and he continues to push the limits. I loved that he was flawed and still haunted by Goose's death and how much of a burden he carries. Val Kilmer returns as Tom "Iceman" Kazansky in an amazing and heartfelt scene that truly was a highlight. Their bond is so strong and their chemistry has never been better. Jennifer Connelly joins the cast as Penelope Benjamin, the old flame Maverick talked about in the original film. She was as graceful and heavenly as you'd expect and I loved her in the film. Jon Hamm was perfectly stern and powerful as Vice Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson. He may give Maverick a chance, but man does he not like him. It was great to see the two of them battle it out over operational superiority and strategy. Glen Powell as Lt. Jake "Hangman" Seresin was excellent and the ever present arrogant jerk of the new Top Gun mission candidates. He gets under your skin and is almost a complete mirror of what Maverick/Iceman used to be. Monica Barbaro was awesome and strong as Lt. Natasha "Phoenix" Trace. She was quick on her feet and a fierce pilot. I loved Jay Ellis as Lt. Reuben "Payback" Fitch and how even though he had a great personality, he was always ready to learn. He had one of the scariest moments in the film during a training exercise. One of my favorite pilots in the film though was Lt. Robert "Bob" Floyd played by Lewis Pullman. He may be the butt of a few jokes, but he was one of the most valuable members of the team. Miles Teller as Lt. Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw really stole the film as he plays the son of Nick "Goose" Bradshaw. The amount of resentment he carries for Maverick was heartbreaking and understandable. There is so much emotional history there and it easily explored and expertly performed by Teller. The chemistry between him and Tom was electric and fun to watch.

Aside from the action and Tom Cruise's aviator sunglasses, there is nothing more iconic than the score. Harold Faltermeyer, Lady Gaga, Hans Zimmer and Lorne Balfe all got together and crafted a perfect score for this already fantastic film. The "Top Gun Anthem" is placed perfectly throughout the film and it immediately brings back the feeling of joy and sets the epic scope of the story. This film wouldn't be Top Gun without the anthem or Kenny Loggins’ hit song "Danger Zone" and the song returns with the fury of the F/A-18E jet engine roar! Visually this film was stunning and I loved that we are in the cockpit with the characters as they fly. The way the cameras are set up have changed the game in terms of audience immersion. Speaking of immersion, the sound in this film was amazing! I felt ever after burn, turn and jet engine ignition. Director Joseph Kosinski has made yet another amazing film and one of the best sequels of all time. This is one of the best films of the year and genuinely a great film. This is a MUST SEE for all Top Gun fans and in IMAX! Let me know what you thought of the film or my review in the comments below. Thanks for reading!

#top gun maverick #tom cruise #miles teller #Jennifer Connelly #jon hamm #ed harris #glen powell #val kilmer #monica barbaro #lewis pullman #joseph kosinski #lady gaga

[ramblinganthropologist]

Writober 22 (6) - third eye

Summary: Mr. C was expecting a long weekend and the chance to relax. Instead... he’s fighting in the parking lot. Man, this one’s gonna be weird to explain to his union rep...

---

You know… everything considered, he should have seen that things were going to end up this way.

It had started out as a normal day for Citrine. He had gone to class, given a pop quiz, and watched over his students as they worked on their quarter project. It was a Friday, and a long weekend was waiting for them. He could have practically tasted it as he sat there at his desk, watching both the clock and his students.

And then the explosion happened.

Now, if he had been a normal teacher, he probably would have freaked out. At best, he probably could have guided his students away from the window and the parking lot that had been going to hell. Instead, his body had reacted before his brain did, centuries of training beaten into his gem causing him to launch out of his desk.

He had corralled his students with the rest of the school as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. Once he was sure they were safe, he handed his clipboard over to the nearest teacher. Without another word, he had sprinted off to get a better view, eventually winding up behind a half-melted car.

That was where he was at the moment, peering over the melted hood with a wary glance. It wasn’t safe to go out yet, judging by the waves of energy that kept radiating out from the center of the parking lot. At least the light had died down, and he could see what lay in the crater made by whatever had crashed there.

It wasn’t a meteor – he was pretty sure it was a spaceship.

“Fuck. Did a Diamond send them?” A quick glance showed him there was indeed a diamond mark on the side of the hull. Had he had blood, it would have run cold at the sight of the yellow symbol burnt into the metal.

Yellow Diamond had sent someone to earth.

“Fuck… fuck… shit… she found us.” His foot was already tingling as he watched, waiting. Nothing had emerged yet, but he knew it was a matter of time. At the very least, he didn’t hear police or fire engines. They would only make things worse.

Whatever came out, he would need to get it away from the school in case a real fight started. Those were too hard to predict on a good day, and this definitely wasn’t one of them. So, time was of the essence.

His train of thought was broken by the hissing of a seal. Light leaked out, and a figure appeared in the recently made door. They stepped out, data pad in hand, glancing around at their surroundings with what he would have called a bored expression. The overhead light of the sun caught the polished surface of the gem stuck in the back of their left hand, smooth and a yellow-green shade he knew – and hated – well.

Of course, they sent a Peridot. He’d be lucky if they hadn’t brought a Quartz with them…

“The data said she would be here…” Their monotone voice carried across the parking lot as the Peridot did a scan. “Odd. I appear to be the only gem in the area.”

Citrine hazarded a glance down towards his feet as the gem spoke. His gem was currently hidden, encased in his heavy shoe and the thick heel that protected it from contact with the ground. After all, he wasn’t a particularly hard gem, and the fact it was on the bottom of his foot didn’t help…

What did help, apparently, was the coating that Emerald had put on his shoes the last time she’d woken up. From the looks of things, it blocked Diamond tech.

He didn’t get long to relax, however. With surprising speed, the Peridot made their way over to him. Had Citrine had a heart, it would’ve gone straight to his throat. Instead, he felt his gem pulse deep within his shoe as he waited.

“Report: human found.” They put down their data pad. “Human, have you seen a gem by the classification of Citrine?”

Oh, just every time he looked in the mirror…

He swallowed hard, sweat trickling down the back of his neck. “I uh… I have no idea what you’re talking about. What even are you? You just… landed in the parking lot. We don’t have what you want here.”

Peridot gave him a blank stare as they glanced down at their data pad. “The data says otherwise. Citrine’s signal has been strongest here for a large period of time. I ask again, have you seen a gem by the name of Citrine? Yellow Diamond desires her to be neutralized along with her Emerald.”

Emerald.

His fake heart dropped to his stomach. In the midst of worrying about his students, he had forgotten all about the gem he lived with. She had been asleep for some time now, tucked away in stone form. It would have been easy for anyone to break into his house and shatter her. Hell, for all he knew she was in pieces on the floor…

Shit. She had always wanted him to take her with him to school. Was he going to regret that?

“You’re not making any sense, I don’t know anyone by that name.”

The gem gave him another blank look. “Your vitals indicate nerves. Strange, I don’t seem to pick up a heartbeat. Last I checked humans had those…”

Yeah… he had never been able to mimic that on command. He could fake it with some forewarning for his yearly exam to make his insurance payment lower, but otherwise he didn’t register. Man, was he going to regret that too?

“I… I’m scared. You showed up out of nowhere and I’m worried you’re going to hurt my students.” He swallowed hard. “Please… we don’t have what you’re looking for. Just… just go away.”

In his mind, he sounded good, definitely afraid. In reality, his mind was going a mile a minute, judging the angles. Something close to rage was pounding in his veins, creating the haze of battle rage that would have made him stronger had he been a proper gem soldier. Right then, it wouldn’t do him any good…

But he got the feeling that was going to end fast.

“Negative.” The scanner passed him over, beeping. “You have a gem. You are the Citrine I am looking for.”

Those dead eyes were on him. “You have two choices: come quietly back to Homeworld to face your trial and certain shattering, or I shatter you here. I have no preference either way.”

Of course they didn’t… Peridots were all about the results. It was why he had never hung out with them much back when he had been a soldier.

Citrine knew that the time for talking was ending. His gem felt hot, and the hum of a good battle rage was flooding his body. He wanted to fight, to destroy – to shatter the Peridot that threatened his students. But he held back, staring blankly.

If he did that… then everything would come out.

“Have you decided? I will certainly make the decision for you if you cannot.”

But he couldn’t risk anyone getting hurt. Both as a teacher and a gem, he just couldn’t stand by and allow that. Instead, he took a deep breath, allowing the anxiety that had washed over him for years to pass over and threw him.

He had known one day people would find out he wasn’t human… but he had never seen it going down quite like this.

“I… say you’re going to have to take me down!” He pushed away from the car, flipping over, and landed back on his feet. At the height of his flip, he summoned his weapon and caught it when he straightened. The heavy head of his double-bladed axe rested effortlessly on his shoulder, the shining orange gem catching the light as he glared down.

It had been quite a while since he had summoned his axe. Honestly, he was surprised he could still do it.

“You have elected to do things the hard way then.” Peridot’s hand morphed, becoming a stunner the diamonds loved to use to put down gems. “Very well. Yellow Diamond has no problem with receiving your gem in pieces.”

Then they swung forward, telegraphing their move in such a way that even an amateur could see it coming a mile away. Rather than blocking, he dodged out of the way, swinging his axe down hard when he was out of range. Had his opponent not moved at the last moment, he would have caught them on the gem and at the very least cracked them. Instead, he just sent chunks of pavement spraying into the air.

Damn, the new gen was fast…

“Your record said you were well trained.” They swung forward, going low no doubt in the hopes to sweep him. “But it also says you were classified as defective due to your gem placement.”

The sudden motion was faster than he expected, and the edge caught him. Pain raced through his body, and his axe poofed as he dropped it. Down below, his gem pulsed and throbbed. His system was screaming, already beginning to shut down and return him to rock form.

He couldn’t let it end this way… what if Emerald was next?

“One more pulse should do it.” Peridot loomed above him, the stunner sparking. “We’ll return to Homeworld once I collect Em- “

And then they went flying.

“You are going to collect who?”

A shadow fell over the prone Citrine, one that made his gem bubble with anticipation. Still in pain, he glanced up, almost unable to believe his eyes. Standing in front of him, glittering in the light, was the gem herself, armored and looking almost indestructible. She turned away from the prone Peridot, extending her hand towards him.

“Can you stand?”

Citrine managed a nod as he allowed Emerald to pull him to his feet. His gem felt off, but he could live with it. More importantly, he was standing. As long as he could stand, he could fight. More importantly, he knew that Emerald was ok. Without that worry, he was free to go almost as hard as he wanted.

Almost, because, you know, still at school.

“Did they try to come for you?” He looked her over – didn’t look like there was any damage. “You were asleep this morning when I left for work.”

Emerald shook her head as she kept her eye on where she had launched the Peridot – they were starting to scramble out of the crater. “Alarm roused me. It’s good we put one here. They’re not alone.”

She didn’t need to say that, of course, because Citrine had eyes. He got to watch as the Peridot appeared, a little dirty but otherwise unharmed. More importantly, they weren’t alone. He counted at least 5 sturdy Quartz soldiers surrounding them, having materialized from only the Diamonds knew where.

Maybe they had been in gem stasis? Who cared… they were there and could hurt his students if they got close to the school.

“You want to take the three on the left?” Citrine held out his foot in order to summon his axe again. Surprisingly, Emerald shook her head to his question. “You want to take on Peridot then? I’m not picky as long as we keep them away from my students.”

The gem shook her head again. “That would take too long. Things would go much faster if we fused.”

With that, she faced him, eyes resolute. Had Citrine had a heart, it would have skipped a beat. Instead, he felt his gem humming as he realized just what was about to happen. He swallowed hard, but he nodded.

“Yeah… alright. So… do you want to start things or- “

He didn’t get to finish. Emerald’s arms were around him, the air humming with energy. Light blocked his vision, and then things started to get… weird. It was hard to focus on anything as the warmth surrounded them both, and then there was no both anymore.

A few seconds later, the light dissipated and a new being stood there, armor and axe gleaming in the light. Serpentine, apart from being much bigger than either Emerald or Citrine, looked fairly normal. There were no extra limbs, no third eye, nothing particularly strange. It was only when they held out a six-fingered hand that the differences became obvious.

But it didn’t matter. They had work to do.

“Best to take a fusion on with a fusion.” Peridot nodded to their Quartz soldiers. “Activate plan 3B-C now. Two of you hold back in case the fusion- “

The two that were supposed to hold back naturally went flying with a swing of the large gem’s double bladed axe. Their gems tinkled to the ground, no doubt cracked in places from either the force or the landing. Serpentine lowered their weapon, mismatched eyes glinting as they surveyed the area.

2 down, 4 to go.

“We doing this your way or mine?” They asked, then paused for a few seconds. “Right… the kids.”

The large gem eyed their remaining opponents. “You’re lucky we’re near school or you’d be aquarium gravel by the end of this.”

Then there was no more talking. The gem rushed forward, axe raised. The Quartz soldiers rushed out to meet them, but even their enhanced strength was nothing compared to the power of a well-matched fusion. Perhaps if they too had fused, there could have been competition. Instead, all it took was a few swings of a well-timed axe to send them flying harmlessly into the distance.

There was definitely some cracks that time. Oh well. 5 down, one to go.

To their credit, Peridot didn’t run away when they watched the fusion approach. Instead, their weapon sparked and sizzled as they tried to aim for the gem at the bottom of Serpentine’s foot. The large gem dodged out of the way, using their axe for leveraged, and avoided being ripped apart by the vibrations.

“That’s only going to work once.” There was an edge to the gem’s voice as they spun around. “I don’t fall for the same shit twice!”

Then there was no more talking. Peridot tried to swing again, but against a fusion they just didn’t have the reach. Instead, they were forced back to their spaceship by a vicious swing of the axe that just barely missed them. With the sudden footing change, they fell hard on the ground, prone, unable to get away.

Then Serpentine’s foot crashed down upon them.

The battle had only lasted a few minutes at best. Apart from some cracks in the blacktop and a ruined spaceship, there wasn’t much to say there had been one at all. It was only the fact a giant figure with a huge axe was standing there, looking rather unimpressed by what had gone on in the last few moments.

“Think I killed them?” They lifted up their foot. The Peridot was there, still whole but definitely dirty. “Nope… they’re still in one piece. Guess they’re making them harder these days.”

Light flashed, and Serpentine was gone. Instead, Emerald and Citrine stood on either side of where the fusion’s legs had been. It was the orange gem that ducked down to pick up their opponent, dusting off the surface with an annoyed expression.

“Not going to lie, kind of want to chuck this thing into an industrial rock tumbler and just let ‘er rip.” He shook his head. “Guess we can chuck it in storage when we get back home.”

He handed it to Emerald as he went off to find the fallen Quartz soldiers they had dispatched. Unlike their squad leader, these had gotten some distance. It allowed him the time to think, and more importantly panic, as he sought them out.

There was no way the school had missed that. Even if they hadn’t seen him fighting, someone would have noticed the giant figure with a massive axe. It was going to get connected back to him, there’d be questions – the kind he’d have to answer.

No doubt about it… his ass was fired. Too bad, he had been close to some good shit in the union… oh well. He’d just start again… elsewhere he supposed.

“I really liked it here too…” He sighed as he knelt down to extract a fallen Quartz from the blacktop. It was cracked, but cracks could be fixed. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t skip you in the lake…”

They didn’t answer, but Citrine didn’t expect them to do so. After all, it was probably hell inside the gem as they dealt with the crack. Still, he gave the gem a little shake as he returned to collecting the rest of his opponents.

Emerald joined hm halfway, her armor tucked back into her gem. She was moving a little slower now – no doubt she was going to need to sleep after their adventure in fusion. Still, for the moment she looked ok as she handed him a Quartz.

Well, more than ok actually. If he had to put his finger on it, she was as giddy as one of his students after getting an A on a pop quiz.

“This one was down deep. I believe it was one we hit as fusion.” She dropped it into his palm where the other rested. “Is something bothering you? You usually are happier after a fight, especially a fusion fight.”

Citrine’s shoulders dropped as he sighed. “No, you know I enjoy that… I’m just mad I’m going to get fired over this.”

He looked towards the school. The students and staff were safe now, so at least he could take comfort in that. There’d be less happiness to go around once he got his pink slip and had to pack up his desk… but he was going to take the small victories where he could get them. With any luck, the substitute they got to hire him would be able to follow his lesson plan…

“If The Principle fires you, they are a fool. Without us, casualties would have been immense.” Emerald’s hand found his shoulder – the touch made his face feel hot. “Besides… The Union protects discrimination against protected minorities, yes? You mentioned that after a meeting once.”

…

Did being an alien refugee from a war-torn planet count as a protected status? He was going to have to ask his union rep about that…

“You might be on to something there.” He still winced as he spied a human approaching. “Shit, there’s the principle… guess we’re about to find out.”

Emerald, still feeling the rush of battle, nudged him. “Do not fear The Principle. If they do not listen, I will handle them.”

Yeah… he might just need that. Judging by the shell-shocked look on their face as they looked at the crashed spaceship in the parking lot, he was going to need a miracle. Maybe he should just contact that union rep…

Shit. This was not how he saw his Friday going in the least. There went his plans to hide in the house and watch old cartoons all weekend…

Fuck. Some days it didn’t pay to save an entire school of kids with his magic gem bullshit.

#writober22 #Erin Cit (Citrine) #Steven Universe oc #Emerald the quasi crystal gem #ramblinganthropologist's writing

[uwusenpaiuwu]

Sleepovers At The Baji Household feat. A Fed-Up Chifuyu

Summary: Chifuyu just wants to sleep, man, but Baji wants to be a jealous crackhead at 2 AM.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Note(s): I had a little free time and wrote this. So, please enjoy! ALSO, to the anon that sent me a request a few days ago, I saw it and have it filed on my to-do list!!! I will definitely get to it as soon as I get a break in my schedule :)

"Chifuyu, ya wanna see some real discrimination?"

No. No, Chifuyu does not want to see what Baji means by 'real discrimination.'

Does he tell him that, though?

Yes, actually, because it's 2 in the fucking morning and, as much as he respects the other boy, he wouldn't put it past himself to smother him with a pillow after having his dream of cuddling with a sea of puppies suddenly destroyed.

Unfortunately for his sanity, Baji either doesn't hear him or, more likely than not, doesn't give a fuck, because he's already flopping onto his belly and whipping out his phone to do God knows what.

The dial tone that sounds from the speaker a few seconds later makes Chifuyu cringe, especially since it's only ever been a calm silence fit for a good night's sleep prior to Baji bulldozing through it with his absurd question. (At the very least, he's thankful that the latter has half a mind to keep the brightness on the lowest setting, otherwise, Chifuyu would have had to fight.)

On the far end of the row of carefully-laid futons, you shift in your sleep, eyebrows furrowing together at the noise. Rotating onto your side, you unconsciously reach for Baji, and just when he thinks you're being cute and trying to cuddle him, you smack him in the head.

Baji doesn't flinch, instead, takes his pillow and shoves it in your grasp to keep your unconscious self occupied, so that he can focus on getting through to the person who reuses to pick up (understandably so).

Releasing a frustrated groan after being redirected to voice mail for the fifth time, he dials the number again, muttering an impatient, "Pick up already."

Chifuyu feels sorry for the poor soul on the other end. He would've blocked someone following the first call, because again, it's-

The blond has to squint his eyes up at the digital clock on Baji's nightstand, which confirms that it's already 2:22 A.M, further solidifying the fact that he shouldn't be awake right now. And this also applies to the ever persistent first division captain, who insists on bothering who Chifuyu soon discovers is Mikey from the contact ID that flashes across the screen.

Why Baji is so keen on bothering him is a question he doesn't have the mental capacity to ponder over. The most energy he'll expend is to listen in when the call miraculously connects.

"What...?" comes a muffled voice from the receiver, tone laced in an irked grogginess birthed from a slumber rudely interrupted.

There's an absurdly loud, almost angry, roar of Mikey's name, one that has Chifuyu curling in on himself in a futile attempt to escape a sound that should be illegal at this hour.

But you know what else should be illegal?

The fucking whiplash Chifuyu gets when Baji's deep voice takes an abrupt 180°, switching from its normal gruffness to a squeaky, ear-piercing shrill as he screams, "I love you, love you, love you! Do you love me, too, Mikey-kyun~♡?!"

The room is dead silent.

Not a word. Not a murmur. Not a breath.

Just pure, unadulterated silence as both Chifuyu and Mikey process the words that hang in the air, permeating it with a goosebumps-inducing eeriness from having heard such a...a girly, overtly cutesy screech from Baji.

Then-

"What the fuck? He hung on me!"

Chifuyu opens his mouth, thinks better of reacting to the cursed scene he had the misfortune of bearing witness to, and promptly closes it.

Other people may have sleep paralysis demons.

But Chifuyu?

Chifuyu has Baji.

With both hands partially raised in prayer, he begs for the shenanigans to be over and done with.

They are not.

While his eyes remain closed in a last ditch effort to convince himself that it's all a bad dream, he hears a lot of grumbling happening on your side of the room, courtesy of Baji, who's scrambling around in search of...something. One quick peek reveals him fiddling with a phone - yours, to be exact, as evidenced by the distinctive phone charm of your favorite anime character hanging from it.

"(Y/n), wake up for a second," he hears him whisper. It takes a bit of prompting, until he's able to successfully rouse you enough from sleep to elicit any kind of response, which is, essentially, nothing short of an incoherent, slurred mess. Although, Chifuyu is pretty damn certain he heard you call Baji a 'dickhead' for the trouble.

Unperturbed, he continues shaking your limp form, coaxing you into wakefulness with, "Repeat what I tell you, and I'll let you go back to asleep. Deal?"

You squint your eyes at him, only able to make out a vague outline of his visage in the lightless room. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die," he automatically responds with the same phrase he's become accustomed to saying whenever you two made a promise, something done purely out of habit, formed when the two of you were just kids and he wanted to get you to do something absolutely ridiculous either for him or with him. And just 'cause he knows you're more susceptible to complying if he does it, he also interlocks his pinky with yours.

"...Fine."

The approval is his cue to proceed, and it's as he's putting the phone on speaker that he turns back to a regretfully wide awake Chifuyu, mouthing a wordless, 'Watch.'

The phone rings, loud and clear, precisely once and only once.

"(Y/n), what's wrong?" It's important to note that even though Mikey still sounds tired as hell, his tone is much lighter, much happier really, than when it was Baji, which is an offense in itself to the said teen that's off to the side, attentively listening to the conversation unfold.

Then, it strikes Chifuyu, what Baji is trying to do, and fuck does it give him an instant headache.

Meanwhile, your mouth morphs into the dopiest of smiles with the pleasant surprise of hearing your boyfriend's voice, chest instantly overtaken by a warm fuzziness that never fails to make an appearance whenever he's involved. Sappy, you know, but it's true!

A light but firm nudge to your shoulder reminds you of your mission. It's too bad that, teetering along the edge of sleep as you are, the words Baji whispers are barely repeated correctly.

The initial phrase from before, the one Baji greeted Mikey with, is shortened to a simple, "You wuv I...?"

But, without missing a beat, you receive Mikey's confident reply of, "Mhm... I wuv you a lot."

There's a sleepy giggle then - a fucking giggle - before your voices drop to sweet whispers that the third and fourth wheels can't fully comprehend from where they are.

"Where the fuck was my 'I wuv you,' huh?!" Baji whisper-shouts, considerate of your conversation even when ranting and raving. "Shit, I would've taken a simple 'I love you,' too! I've known that bastard way longer than (Y/n), and this is what I get?!"

Okay. Toman's president answers his boyfriend's late night calls faster than he does anyone else's and openly expresses his love for him. So what? Chifuyu wouldn't exactly call it 'discrimination,' per se. 'Favoritism,' maybe if you wanna stretch it, but using as strong a word as discrimination, especially taking into account you two are dating; it's normal? Nah.

"You wanna say 'bye' to them? Mm. Baji and Chifuyu." A pause. "Fuyu, Mikey says 'bye.'"

"Bye, Mikey-kun."

The other person in the room waits, and waits, and waits, and when it's clear that there is no intention to address his presence whatsoever, Baji turns to Chifuyu with an almost scandalized expression, making wild gesticulations with his hands, clearly distressed. "See?!"

Blank blue eyes stare back at him, unblinking. Honestly, it's a common occurrence - Baji spiraling in a nonsensical rage - so it's easy for Chifuyu to block out the muted, jealousy-driven temper tantrum as he takes his pillow in both hands, raises it as high as he can, and-

Sigh.

-lets it flop right back onto his face.

He can't suffocate Baji. Shouldn't. Wouldn't. Couldn't. After all, they're best buds, meaning he has an obligation to put up with shit like this once in a while. (Plus, he'd probably get his ass kicked before he succeeds anyway. Totally not worth the beating.)

"Did you hear? Mikey said he wuvs me," he hears you drawl dreamily as soon as you hang up, sounding very close to clocking back out for the night.

"Yeah, yeah. Cute shit. Happy for ya, dude," Baji huffs. Thankfully, he sounds like he's in a similar state to yours, if the yawn that follows his sarcastic comment is anything to go by.

"...He soooo ignored you."

That warrants a punishing punch to the arm, dulled only slightly by the combination of the thick quilt you're swaddled in and the raven-haired boy's fatigue.

"I'll fucking throw you out right now, (Y/n). Don't test me."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Won't."

"Will."

The conversation gradually dies down shortly after, the exhaustion that took its sweet time getting to both of you having reached its peak with the help of the childish bickering. It takes 10 minutes, maybe 15, before two sets of light snores fill the room.

Finally.

Let it be known that there is a lesson to be learned from tonight's events. Really, there is. Y'know, something along the lines of 'Don't agree to a sleepover with Baji, if you plan on actually sleeping,' or whatever.

Alas, Chifuyu's consciousness fades before he realizes what it is.

~~~

"Mikey, be honest. Who do you love more? Me or-?"

"(Y/n)."

"But-"

(Y/n)."

"I-"

"(Y/n)."

Baji is only momentarily discouraged, sharp eyes glaring at the blond that lays his head on your lap after hi-fiving you. He didn't want to do this, but he's left with no choice.

"(Y/n) or Babu?"

From the way Mikey stiffens up, refusing to look at either him or you in the eyes, Baji knows he has him right where he wants him, has him torn between a cute face or a sweet ride.

"Oi! Don't pretend to be asleep! Answer the damn question! OI!"

(After hours of serious contemplation - even though you told him it doesn't particularly matter - it's revealed that, of course, Mikey loves you more. Babu just happens to trail behind as a very close second.)

#mikey x male reader #mikey x reader #sano manjiro x male reader #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjirou x male reader #sano manjirou x reader #sano manjiro #sano manjirou #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #baji keisuke #chifuyu matsuno

[basiccortez]

in collaboration with @capturethechaos

Only The Good Die Young word count: 1.1k masterlist playlist

warnings: THIS IS AN AU. mentions of death, mentions of torture, mentions of mafias/mobs/gangs. STRICTLY 18+. MINORS DNI

'I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints, the sinners are much more fun'

Some people believed that the whole mafia, gangs and mobsters died back in the 1940s, but the truth was, those monsters just went into hiding. Everything is run by the mob. The girls on the corner, the guns the cops used, the drugs in the prisons, the boxing matches on pay-per-view, sometimes, even the clothes on your back.

Most of the famous mobs had died out when Al Capone finally bit it, so did the crash of the New York Five. But between the mobsters tearing each other apart, between the shadows, two other families were building up their ranks.

The shift between the downfall of the Luciano family and the rise of the Kiszkas was easy. Nobody ever pointed a finger at a Polish man selling guns on the street corner. Kiszka didn’t sound like “Mangano” or “Gagliano” or “Bonanno”. Patrick Kiszka was a smart man, and decided to move the vast mafia playground to a quieter city that would draw less heat. He switched from bright, light, bigger city Broadway, to the Country Broadway strip.

The Kiszkas were one to be feared. Their mafia bloodline was passed down from generation to generation. The current leaders were 3 beautiful brothers and their best friend, who was basically another brother. You didn’t mess with any of them, unless you had a death wish.

Samuel, the youngest, was smart, his brain like a human computer. He was able to infiltrate government sanctions with ease. You didn’t know you were hacked until it was too late and your porn search history was blasted all over your workplace. Sam had ghosts, things that haunted him when he closed his eyes at night. He was too smart, too gentle for his own good, which caused his heart to break and his mind to be scarred.

Daniel was the muscle, and Sam’s best friend. He was slender and tall, with beautiful curly hair. He was a dark, gentle soul, who hid in the shadows. He was like a snake, letting you get close until he struck, quick and quiet. His closet was full of skeletons he was yet to bury. Sam was one of the only people in the family to know about the horrible things Daniel had done. Wherever you saw Sam, you saw Daniel, and vice versa.

Then, there were the twins. Two beautiful fuckers that could not be more different. Josh was smart (not quite as smart as Sam), and handled the money of the family. The Kiszkas were dripping with money, and probably would’ve gone broke if it wasn’t for Josh. Josh had been a part of putting the Kiszkas into a legal business, buying casinos on the Vegas Strip.

And last but not least, their fearless leader, Jacob. That fucker dripped confidence and power. He could have women pulling their panties aside with just a simple look. Even though Josh was the oldest, it just made sense that Jake was the family leader. Jake was a cocky fucker, having a painting of him in a blood red suit hanging over his desk like he was the real fucking Don Vito Corleone.

There was one crime family though, that refused to die without a fight. The Santiagos had fled New York when the FBI started rounding up all the mobsters. Don Michele Santiago was a smart bastard, and was the one who gave the heads up to the power 5 of what was to go down. Everyone thought he was just some crazy Italian and didn’t listen. They wished they’d listened when they were on the line in front of the firing squad. Michele took his wife and his sons and moved them from New York back to their small quiet town in Sicily. Michele raised his eldest son, Rafael to take over the family business when the time would come. Rafael was only 10 when they moved, but as soon as he hit 18, he was sent back over to the US to be a spy for the family. Michele Santiago and Patrick Kiszka were friends, but Michele didn’t trust the whole innocent Polish man act.

When Michele finally bit it, and Rafael took over, his wife produced him three sons and a daughter. Rafael raised his sons to be ruthless blood thirsty killers.

Paulo was the eldest, and was the golden prize in Rafael’s eyes. There was not a single thing he could do wrong. Paulo kissed his father’s ass if that meant being the heir to the whole Santiago fortune when the old bastard would finally make it to the grave.

Gianni was the middle son, and a told fucking wild card. His nickname was “X-ray”, the kid was always searching and scanning like a fucking detector. Gianni loved torture. It was his favorite past-time. Gianni was the protector of the family, putting his life on the line to protect his own blood. He had proved that he wasn’t afraid of the consequences, and wore the scars he had on his body with pride.

Narciso, just like his name would insinuate, was a self-righteous asshole. His appearance was everything, and he demanded only the best be put on his body. His wardrobe consisted of Gucci and Versace, ironically. He was smart, understanding the way business and stocks worked better than anyone in the family. He was more of a businessman than Paulo, but no no one would ever admit it. Narciso got the short end of the stick, not inheriting anything much like his brother Gianni.

Rafael never wanted a daughter, and it was clear to anyone who saw it. Y/N Santiago was a hidden gem. She was smart, drabbled in the art of torture, and dressed to impress. Rafael had a plan for her the second the doctor said it was a girl. Her life had already been decided on and she didn’t even know it. Her mother, the woman who was also a business player, knew of her daughter's fate. Marie Santiago had been the same way, being betrothed to a man she never would’ve married if it wasn’t for the family business she had learned to love.

When Y/N was a growing child, she was sent off to prep school, in hopes to teach her how to be a proper woman. Rafael wanted her far away from this life, in his mind, the less a woman knew, the better.

But his plans of keeping her away came crashing down when she had met Fransico Solano. What was supposed to be an innocent relationship turned dark and bloody, and ended up with a battered and tortured Y/N on his father’s front door. Rafael could see the end of his legacy crashing down, and knew what he had to do to help his legacy succeed and grow. Even if that meant sending his daughter across the ocean.

--- --- ---

note: I hope y'all love the teaser! updates will be posted on Tuesdays. This series is also fully completed and ready for you guys to read:) thank you to my lovely co-authors I couldn't have done it without you.

taglist: @myownparadise96 @groggyvanfleet @joshkiszkas @st4rdust-ch0rds @jackiidk @maverick-rose @capturethechaos @fleetofdreams @katie-gvf @Eeloraa @kayleea122 @Streamsofstardust @circusanimalcrackers @flower-power-anthem @the-weightof-dreams @gvfrry @Ascendingtothestarasone @fleet-prodigy @oskea93 @Gaby-gvf @allieboop @Seventieswhore @greta-van-chaos @peaceisouranthem @thatcatbsong @Ninawhatfandom @garagebandvanfleet @janegvf @fictional-duchess @t00turnttrauma @ascendingtothestarsasone @gretnabancheese @gretavanflipflop

taglist form or DM/Inbox me to be added!

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet x reader #greta van fleet series #greta van fleet au #gvf #gvf imagine #gvf x reader #gvf fan fiction #gvf series #gvf au #josh kiszka #josh kiszka gvf #josh gvf #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka x reader #mafia!josh kiszka #Jake kiszka #Jake kiszka gvf #Jake gvf #Jake kiszka imagine #Jake kiszka x reader #mafia!Jake kiszka #sam kiszka #sam kiszka gvf #sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka x reader #mafia!sam kiszka

[king-finnigan]

The first time Geralt dies, it’s during the Trial of the Medallion

he’s fresh out of the medical wing, his hair going white at the roots and his body unfamiliar when he’s told that he has to complete the Trial of the Medallion

they have to swim across a lake, go through a tunnel system without waking a troll named Old Speartip and they have to make their way to the circle of elements

some survive the Trial, some don’t. Geralt doesn’t. he drowns in the middle of the lake

they fish him out and burn his body in the courtyard along with the two other boys that didn’t make it. eskel’s by his side from the moment that the body is pulled from the lake to the moment they light the pyre, trying to hold in his tears and sobs as they lay his best friend to rest

unbeknownst to them, geralt’s standing at the edge of the courtyard, watching his own body as it’s swallowed by the flames

he thinks he’s a ghost until someone notices him and starts shouting

Chaos Ensues

after a thorough medical examination where they find literally nothing wrong with him, they decide that It Must Be The Extra Mutations

they kill him again a few times just to see what happens. he wakes up in the middle of the lake every time, his new body gasping its first breath when he breaches the surface, naked as the day he was (re)born. the old body stays.

he redoes the Trial of the Medallion and lives, this time around

and so he is sent on the Path, Geralt of Rivia, the Witcher that Won’t McFucking Die

they praise him lucky and say that it’s a miracle, a blessing from the old gods themselves. they soon find out that it’s a pain in the arse, is what it is.

people keep claiming Geralt has died (which he has, but that’s besides the point) which causes a lot of confusion when they see him walking around a week later, just fine and dandy, thank you very much and no I didn’t die, what makes you think that haha

he also gets a reputation for grave robbing because people bury his body still fully clothed while Geralt wakes up in the nearest body of water Naked AF. he learns to be a little more stealthy after that

sometimes he has to track down his stuff because other people beat him to the grave robbing

also, he prefers to die at night because during the day there’s people fishing at the lakes who get awfully confused when a naked witcher walks out. he also starts sticking to the more dry areas of land because he found out the hard way that he’ll wake up somewhere in the nearest body of water and if that’s the ocean, well...

“we could head to the coast” geralt, remembering the time he was reborn fifteen miles from shore and hit his head on a boat upon resurfacing: absolutely fucking not

speaking of, jaskier has to learn the hard way that Geralt keeps getting reborn. sobbing-over-your-best-friends-dead-body-and-looking-up-to-see-him-standing-naked-in-front-of-you hard way.

yennefer takes one look at him and starts laughing uncontrollably. she Knows. she always does, somehow. she won’t stop making jokes about it, too.

sometimes she needs to blow off some steam and geralt, always willing to help, lets her stab him 20+ times, ides-of-march-style. it’s quite fun for both of them, actually. who would’ve thought?

and yes, the stabbing still hurts, but after a few times, dying just gets boring, you know?

Bonus:

geralt, bleeding out from several slash wounds in his chest from the archgriffin he was hired to get rid of: hey can you kill me real quick i wanna get this over with

jaskier, dagger in hand: sure thing, geralt!

some peasant who stumbled upon the scene when he heard the commotion, seeing jaskier stab geralt through the head: what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

jaskier suddenly gets a reputation as both the witcher’s bard and the most feared man on the continent.

his Witcher Repertoire™ includes: Toss a Coin to Your Witcher, Stop Robbing Witchers’ Graves, and If You See Me Killing A Witcher, Keep Your Mouth Shut (or The Murder Song)

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #mentions of eskel #the witcher headcanons #i really wanna turn this into a full fic one day but for now have these headcanons :) #instant reincarnation au #inspired by an interaction i had on the Dying In Tw3 post

[bokukawas]

two sides of the same coin

pairing; Itadori Yuuji x Reader (x Sukuna, at least kinda/implied)

warnings; i didn’t proofread this at all lol

a/n; woke up this morning with this imagine in mind so naturally i had to get it out of my head

summary;  cuddle time with your boyfriend makes the monster come out... only he doesn’t seem that scary to you / seriously this is just a little something, don’t expect much of this

word count; 1,9k

Your boyfriend, Itadori Yuuji, leans heavily against you as soon as you open the door to him. Pressing his face into the crook of your neck and moaning dramatically as he puts his arms around you to squish you against his broad chest and puts even more of his weight on you. Snorting you stumble a step back, arms reaching around him to steady both of you, with little succes as you keep stumbling back because he was a beefy guy and you had trouble keeping him upright. 

“Yuuji, what are you doing, you’re heavy” you huff as you stagger another step backwards, his face never leaving your neck as he sighs again.

“’m tired.” Came his nuzzled answer against your collar, leaving goosebumps in his wake as his hot breath tickles over your exposed skin.

“I can tell. C’mon then, I have dinner ready for you.”

You maneuver your boyfriend to your shared kitchen and sit him down on a chair so you have your hands free to get his food ready. He watches you with big tired eyes the whole time, exhaustion making them droop and close from time to time, seemingly without him even noticing it. He looked cute, as usual, a little disheveled, but still utterly cute and a warm feeling spread in your chest again as you watched him slowly stuff his face with what you prepared for him, munching happily, but slowly. Another indicator at how exhausted he must be, you thought to yourself. Usually the food would be gone in little to no time.

“Can we watch a movie now? I want to cuddle.” Your simple approving hum was answer enough for him. Instead of waiting for you to clean up, he wraps his arms around your middle as soon as you were close enough to him and carries you to the living room as if you would weight nothing. Well his inhuman strength sure came in handy sometimes.

Gently putting you down on the couch, he hands you the tv remote, before flopping down on you entirely, arms going around your hips as he snuggles his face into your lap. Another sigh leaves his lips, this time sounding very content as you tenderly run your fingers through his hair. You chuckle.

“You don’t even want to watch a film, you just want to be cuddled, am I right?”

“No, but you can choose the movie.”

“Liar. You don’t even have your eyes open.” You laugh as you poke his cheek. “Such a big baby.”

“Mhh don’t stop.” He grumbles when he couldn’t feel your fingers comb through his hair anymore.

Absentmindedly you just put on a random documentary on Netflix, focus never leaving your boyfriends face. Or what you could see of it anyways, as he had it mushed against your thighs.

“Hard mission today? Want to talk about it?” you ask as you continue to run your fingers through his pinkish hair, grazing your nails along his neck exactly how he likes it.

A first approving hum and another declining hum vibrate against your legs and you smile fondly down at him. It has been a long time since he last came home this exhausted. At times like this, you were actually happy that he had the king of curses residing inside of him. Sukuna surely would intervene when it got dangerous enough, making sure Yuuji, and therefore he himself would survive.  

Continuing to gently caress your boyfriend, you start thinking again. It has been some time now since Yuuji had last lost control and let Sukuna emerge. It also usually happens when he was as exhausted as he currently was: when he was letting his guard down.

And sure enough, as your fingers trail down his neck, scratching at his scalp before slightly massaging his muscles you could see them: faint black lines appearing all over your boyfriends body. They disappear just as quickly when Yuuji moves a little, readjusting his weight on you, making it even easier to access his neck just how he likes it.

Soon enough his breathing evens out again, chest lifting and falling slowly, drooling a little as he drifts off for real this time. Black lines appear again all over him. Smiling, you trace your finger along one of them, noticing the little shudder the man tries to hold back. Humming, you continue to caress your boyfriends face and neck. Your smile only grows as time goes by, so when finally a red eye pops open on your boyfriends’ cheek you snicker.

“Who would’ve thought that the king of curses likes to be babied as well…” you mock, as you gently run your finger below his eye, pulling it quickly away when a mouth appears to snap at it.

The man currently in your lap was not your boyfriend anymore and you knew that. Of course you did. As soon as the markings appeared he was gone, yet you just knew Sukuna wouldn’t hurt you. When this switch had happened the first time without Yuuji noticing, you had freaked out and poked him hardly, which woke him up instantly and made Sukuna disappear in a matter of seconds. He was just as freaked out as you were about it then, so you had kept it a secret that it had happened after that again. And again.

So now, when 3 more red eyes stared up at you as he lifted his head a little you only sigh, but run your hands through his hair nonetheless.

“Rough day for you as well, hm? You’re not very chatty today.”

Sukunas much deeper voice rumbles against your thighs as he rests his head there again and whines. “I think I was the only one having a rough day. The brat nearly got himself killed…again.”

Stopping your ministrations, you fix your eyes on his face and wait for him to elaborate. When he does not, you pull at his hair a little. “Could you please explain how my boyfriend nearly got himself killed…again!?”

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“What?” you ask confused.

He lifts himself up again, giving your hands a pointed look, making you groan. “You’re so demanding.”

“I’m the king of curses, you should do as I say or you’ll die.”

“Oh shut up, you were literally drooling in my lap two minutes ago.”

“I wasn’t, the brat was. I could kill you right now.”

Rolling your eyes you shove your hands back into his hair a little rougher than necessary, pulling on strands of his hair as he still didn’t tell you what happened. “Tell me or I’ll stop again.”

Your leg heats up as he exhales against it slowly and then starts telling you what happened. Yuuji was a decent fighter you knew that, but you also knew that one of his weak points were his friends and loved ones. And today that had proved to be the problem.

“I had to grow back his whole arm,” he complains. “If I hadn’t switched with him he would have bled to death right there.”

Your hands falter again. So it had been really bad today. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell you about it. “Hey honey, I nearly died today, how was your day?” Goosebumps raise on your arms as you imagine how the day could have gone if Sukuna had not meddled. Instead of your tired boyfriend coming home to you, a random worker from jujutsu tech, telling you he died. Or even worse, one of his close friends coming to deliver such a horrendous message. You involuntarily shudder.

“Don’t worry, he’s fine.”

Cupping his cheek, you make him look up at you. “Thank you, Sukuna.”

“I only did it to safe myself.”

“That doesn’t mean I appreciate it any less.”

His mouth already pulled into a snarl, ready to give a snarky remark when the lines on his body started rapidly fading again and a droopy Yuuji was looking at you again.

“Sorry sweetie, were you talking to me?” he yawns loudly and squishes his face even more into your lap, snuggling in again. “I’m just so tired.”

Gently running your fingers over his face, you poke him in the cheek. “Let’s go to bed then puppy, you need to rest properly.”

It was obvious that Yuuji didn’t want to move away from his place on top of you, but he also knew you were right. As nice as your fingers in his hair felt, in the end this position would strain his neck and make him even sorer than he already was. So he reluctantly got up and got himself ready for bed, humming happily when he saw that you joined him in the bathroom.

With the toothbrush still dangling from his mouth he asks you what you had been saying earlier. Pondering if you should tell him that you’ve been talking with Sukuna, and not for the first time at that, you decide against it…for now. He would surely freak out again and lose all of his tiredness if you told him now and then he wouldn’t be able to rest. And he so very clearly needed to rest. You could tell him tomorrow morning, you decided. So you tell him you’ve only been rambling along a little.

After brushing his teeth, he leaves you alone to do your evening routine, but not before he discards his shirt and trousers in the laundry basket. He was one of those persons who always ran hot, so he only slept in his boxers. Who needed a blanket or clothes when they could have their girlfriend warm them up, right? That was his motto. You snort when he came back to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, telling you to hurry.

When you came to the bedroom shortly after that, he was already sprawled out in bed, opening his arms for you to lay on top of him, so you do. Resting your face on his chest, snuggling closer so you could press little kisses to the underside of his chin, making him laugh. His comforting smell soon engulfs you and you nuzzle your nose harder against him, silently thanking Sukuna again for saving your boyfriend. In return, you can feel his arms wrap around you even more tightly.

“Yuuji?” you softly whisper. He only hums for you to know he heard you, and gives a little squeeze to encourage you to continue speaking.

Lifting yourself up a little, you press a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

Yuuji pops open an eye at that, pulls you close again and kisses you back, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, pouring all his love for you into the kiss, instead of just saying ‘i love you’ back.You smile against his lips. “Good night.”

Taking up your position on his chest again, you close your eyes as well, listening to his soft breathing and little snores. Eventually it gets silent again and you feel two more arms wrap around your middle. Now too tired yourself to lift up your head and look at Sukuna, you just press a soft kiss against his chest as well, mumbling a “thank you again, ‘kuna.” Into his chest, before falling asleep yourself.

You miss the fond smile that grazes the curses lips as he beholds you, laying there utterly at peace in his arms and sighs. Maybe he did save that brat not only for his own benefits after all.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #itadori x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji #sukuna #i don't know what this is #i just want to cuddle with them both so much #nana do u see this #this is what happens when we rewatch jjk #the cuddle urge with yuuji is so strong ugH but sukuna as well #twosidescoinfic #mywriting

[verus-veritas]

Legacy

Revenge, Technology, Mind Transference, with a dash of unrequited love. What’s not to love? /Verus

"Dude! P-please! I'm sorry! Whatever you think I've done, it must all be a mistake!" Andew yelled, thrashing against his confinements and eyeing the only point of exit in the room. His firm muscles were wet and taut against his clothes, and his handsome face flush red with terror and worry.

"Are you really sorry though? It didn't seem like it from the way you acted during Gavin's funeral. The sneers and laughter you made as his parents said their final words to him..." I said, hiding in the shadows. Only my feet and the contours of my body was visible for him to see.

"N-no offense. I just found it funny when the parents said they wish he'd atleast gotten a girlfriend before he passed away-" The same devious sneer returned on his perfectly handsome face, as he most likely remembered the scene in his head.

"Of course you found it funny. Because you knew he was completely gay. Gay, and had a massive crush on you for ages. He literally worshipped the ground you walked on, and spent most of his waking hours wishing he could be with you." I explained, slowly walking around him as I pulled out a flimsy latex cap with electronical nodes attached to it.

"And I let him. I did no wrong." Andrew talked back. His eyes following my figure until I stood directly behind him.

"No! You lead him on, made him believe you were actually interested in him. And then you destroyed him. You are the reason he ran out of the house crying, and you are the reason he didn't see the truck speeding towards him!" My voice was shaking as I quickly slapped the cap onto his head, accidentally pulling out a few strands of his hair.

"Ouuch! Get this thing off me!" He shook his head and began thrashing about again.

"You know. He really loved you... He said he was going to make you the happiest man on earth. Showering you with gifts and undying love, and be by your side forever and ever. That's why he trusted you so wholeheartedly and let you do whatever you wanted."

"Naive..." He quietly muttered under his breath.

"He was even fine with you staring and drooling over other girls. As long as he could stay by your side."

"What a fag..." I could hear him gritting his teeth.

"But that evening when you invited him over, only to have him find you in the bedroom hooking up with a random girl... that completely ruined him. You shattered his dream, his self-confidence, and his sensitive soul! He didn't know what to do and where to go, which is why he ran straight out into the traffic..." My voice was uncontrollably going up and down now, as I was unable to hide my emotions.

"Dude only had himself to blame. He should've known I only had him around for the free stuff he bought for me." Andrew snickered, as he looked down at the expensive shorts Gavin had bought for him a few weeks prior.

"How dare you!" I tried to punch his shoulder, but knew I was too weak to do any real damage against his hard muscles.

"Y'know... it almost sounds like you had feelings for him- Wait a minute! You're that pastry white kid that always walked around with him aren't you?! Hah! 'Ghost boy' we called you!" The tone in his voice shifted - with more confidence and arrogance. Back to the way he normally talked - a manipulative bastard at heart. "I see. So you best friend Gavin never had feelings for you, and now that he's gone you blame yourself for not having stopped him."

"......" I clenched my hands till my knuckles turned white.

"Hah! Maybe you really were a horrible friend. Have you thought about that you might be the reason he's dead?" He laughed, obviously enjoying the way he was toying with my feelings.

"...you have no idea..." I mumbled, as tears began to flow down my cheeks.

"Maybe you should be the one sitting in this chair - tied up and wearing this stupid cap on your head. Hehe."

I took a deep breath and calmed myself, before walking around him once again and turning so he could see me. See the real me... one last time. "I will. Soon."

"W-what do you mean with that? And why are you also wearing that ridiculous cap?" He asked. His tone in voice once again becoming panicked and anxious.

"You see. The reason why I'm so pale is because I spend so much time at home playing with my inventions and devices. Coding is one of my favorite things to do. And for the last few months I've relentlessly been working on creating this device we're both wearing right now. It was originally only meant to be used on you, recoding the patterns in your brain into loving Gavin as much as he loved you. While also erasing all of your bad traits and turning you into his ideal boyfriend... but there's no reason for that anymore, is there? So, I upgraded it into 2.0, which can now be used with two people."

"P-pff... yeah right... and what does this new version do then?"

"It can transfer the consciousness between two human brains. Even recoding the brain into believing the new consciousness have always been in control of its own body. All the memories, habits, and even muscle memory will be easily accessible to the new permanent owner." I explained, as I began fiddling with a machine by our side. The nodes on our caps lit up.

"Permanent?! Wait a minute. Let's say all of this freaky sci-fi stuff is actually real, what's going to happen to my consciousness?" Andrew asked, as he began to get more anxious by the beeping sound of the nodes on his head.

"All gone. Overwritten by mine. Erased out of existence with no way of restoring it." I answered nonchalantly. Flicking the last switched around, the device was now ready to be activated.

"What the fuck! Then you're basically killing me?! Get me out of here, you sick freak!" He began violently thrashing against the back of the chair, and flung his head around to get the latex cap off... but to no avail.

"Am I really though? Your memories, your body, and your relationships will all still be here, under my complete control. I'm just... discarding a small part of you that's no longer necessary."

"No...no... Help! HELP! SOMEONE!! THIS CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER IS GOING TO KILL ME!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, but the soundproofed walls would do him no good.

I flicked the final switch and walked over to him as the machine began buzzing. Standing in front of him, I suddenly sat down on his lap and grabbed hold of his face. I stared into his fearful yet piercing blue eyes and slid my hands across the cheeks and contours of his face.

"This beautiful face of yours that Gavin loved, I promise I'll take good care of it and cherish it until the day I die. It's the least I can do to honor my friend Gavin." I leaned forward and gently laid a kiss on his sweaty forehead, while holding him in place as he screamed for all he was worth.

"No! Noo! NOoO-Uoogguuughhhh" His scream turned into a gurgle as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. At the same time, my eyes went white and hazy as my pastry body slumped over and fell on the cement floor. Most likely cracked open its head or something from the sound of it.

"NgOOuoouughhgguuuhh!!!" Andrew's head flung back and forth as if to fight whatever was invading his head, but it barely took a minute before the thrashing suddenly stopped and his head slumped down.

His eyes were closed, his face flushed red from exertion, and the sweat and drool pooled down onto his expensive shorts. A further five minutes of stillness and blinking nodes passed before any activity was seen.

---

*Gasp*

I awoke to the cap on my head giving me a quick electric shock. In front of me laid my old withered body, lifeless and without a doubt stone dead. My throat felt dry and tired, and the ties on my arms hurt like hell. In fact, everything felt, looked, and smelt different. The smell oozing from my sweaty clothes that once smelt great now stunk in my nose. I could recall from Andrew's memories that he showered atleast twice a day. I showered atleast twice a day.

After some fiddling with the special knots in my back, I easily slipped the rope off. Massaging the sore parts on my wrist, I soon relished in how big and strong my new hands looked now. Hands who should've been holding Gavin's...

I explored further up till I reached my new bulging biceps. Squeezing them I felt how firm and taut they were. I never in a million years would have managed to get myself this big, but here I was, standing in the body of a perfect specimen. The body of the man who my friend loved, but who didn't truly love him back. If only I could've done this before Gavin died... Would he have loved me instead, or would he have hated me for what I had done? Well, atleast he would've been alive.

My focus went to my Andrew face, as I caressed the blemish-free skin and the small stubble forming on it. The face of the man I had hated for a while, the face of the man whose identity I would have to take over, and the face I would see in the mirror for as long as I breathed. It was one of the most handsome faces I've ever laid my eyes on no doubt, so I'm perfectly fine with that decision.

My hands continued to explore what was now mine; running fingers through my lush but wet hair, following the outline of my cobblestone abs, and shaking my strong and muscular legs awake from sitting too long.

Not long after I finally slipped the drool and sweat-soaked shorts off myself and watched as the tool between my legs arose to its new owner. It might not have been as long as my former one, but the very girth of it made up for it. As I enveloped it between my palms, I realized that no one had ever been as intimate with Andrew's tool as I was now, and no one would ever be. Not even Gavin would if he was somehow resurrected. Only I, Andrew would ever know how this throbbing member would feel in my own hands, the endorphins and pleasure its touch would send throughout my amazing body, and the ultimate earth-shattering orgasms I would experience as I edge myself to climax every day from now on.

The very thought of it immediately brought me to the brink of orgasm, so I quickly spread my legs apart and thrust the member fully through my grasp. It was all that was needed as I suddenly began shaking with pleasure and exploded shot after shot of Andrew seed all over the floor, myself and my former lifeless body."Ugh! Uuuugh! UUUuOOGggHH!!"

“.... Holy shit.....” I moaned, slightly shocked by the unfamiliarity of the new voice coming from my throat.

Reeling from my first ever orgasm in my new body and life, I sat back down on the chair and took a breather. I was sweaty, my crotch sticky, and my armpits stunk. Yet, I know I still looked glorious. How couldn't I? After all, I am Andrew. The man who Gavin loved, and who loved him back just as much, if not even more...

I will dedicate this new life of mine to worship and care for this body just as much as Gavin would have. His legacy, Andrew's body and life, and my consciousness have finally become one... and I promise I will carry them with pride and confidence to the grave... even if it is the only thing I will accomplish in this short insignificant life of mine.

#possession #revenge #selflove #love #dark #permanent #identity theft #mine

[seijorhi]

Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you

Me attempting a multi-part fic?? More likely than you think! I wrote this fic because this blog started with Hawks and Dabi and kinda got a bit of traction with soulmate au’s so to me it made sense to post it for my first anniversary. I hope you guys like it! 💕

Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x female reader, Keigo Takami (Hawks) x female reader

TW canonical character ‘death’, a little angst and maybe a slight hint of dub-con (if you squint your eyes a little)

Part I, II

You’re eleven years old when your parents take you by the hand, sit you down on the couch and tell you that your soulmate is dead.

It doesn’t make sense. There’s a hollow ache inside of your chest like something important is gone but you were with Touya only yesterday. You had the rest of your lives together, you were gonna leave with him, start something better…

You feel empty and you can’t understand it. He can’t be dead, that’s not how it works. You find your soulmate and you get to ride off into the sunset. You get to be happy, everyone knows that.

But it doesn’t sink in until you’re kicking and screaming by his grave and Endeavor won’t so much as meet your eye and your parents are pulling you back because there’s no body.

There’s nothing left of Touya Todoroki.

And there’s nothing left of you without him.

—

They call it the bloom. A simple touch, the first from your soulmate’s hand, and the mark appears on your skin like drops of ink spilled into water. You’ve always thought it beautiful, the delicate black pattern imprinted on your wrist.

You can still remember the heat you’d felt when it happened. Not the burning kind you knew him capable of, but like the warmth of a fire seeping through you. And you remember the way those bright, blue eyes had widened as you’d tripped and fell, taking him with you. His mark was over his heart; Touya always was stupidly smug about that.

You were just kids. Angry and scared and lost, but you had Touya and Touya had you.

(Not that that counted for anything in the end. He still died alone.)

They say it’s rare to find your soulmate before adulthood, but you’d been one of the lucky ones.

Lucky.

The word tastes bitter on your tongue now. It’s not that you disagree exactly – even now, years after his death you’re glad that you had time with him. You would’ve been grateful for a minute, for a mere glance at his face. Two and a half years with your soulmate was a gift, but having him, losing him so young only meant that you had more years of your life to struggle on without him.

And sometimes you catch yourself staring at your mark, lost in thought. Touya was the one with all the plans, you were always just the tag along, happy to go anywhere so long as he was the one leading you. You wonder what he’d think if he could see you now. Not the Hero you’d let yourselves imagine, though you suppose you both knew deep down that was nothing more than a pipe dream for someone like you.

Gazing around your cramped, messy apartment, debating exactly how badly you need this shitty, barely-enough-to-scrape-by job, you can’t imagine he’d be impressed.

God knows your parents are disappointed, but that’s nothing new. The Quirkless daughter of two mid rank heroes – well, the only thing you ever had going for you was being Enji Todoroki’s future daughter in law, and everybody knows how that one ended.

But part of you likes to think that maybe Touya wouldn’t judge you too harshly for it. You’re doing the best you can. You’re surviving, all on your own, that has to count for something, doesn’t it?

There’s a text message awaiting you when you roll over and grab your phone.

Happy Birthday x

Natsuo never forgets. The rest of the Todoroki’s – you ceased to matter to them the day they buried an empty casket for their son. Natsuo’s the only one who bothers to check in on you, make sure that you’re keeping your head above the water. It’s usually just a message here and there, and he calls you on Touya’s birthday. And on the anniversary of his death.

It’s painful for him, but you suppose you’re the only tangible connection he has left of his brother.

You stare at the message for a moment longer, a strange feeling tugging at your heart. Typing out a quick reply, you set your phone down and fall back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh.

Today of all days, you’d honestly rather just roll over and let the hours pass you by, but your boss isn’t that forgiving and as much as you hate to admit it, you need this job.

The hotel’s already abuzz by the time you clock in, your manager’s jaw tight, a frown pinching at his face. As much as you don’t like him, you can’t exactly blame him for the bad mood – in less than three hours, the ballroom will be filled with a media circus and a plethora of pro heroes. Some big promotional event before the hero rankings are announced; you honestly don’t care.

It just means that everybody’s on edge, you’re gonna spend all day stuck in heels, smiling blandly while you serve people who won’t so much as look twice at you.

And then there’s the real reason you’re dreading today. 6’4”, blue eyed, broad shouldered, currently burning holes into you from across the ballroom while you carry around a platter of canapés. The last time you’d seen Enji Todoroki in person was two weeks after the funeral, and he’d ignored you entirely.

That was years ago; you weren’t even in your teens. Half of you had hoped that in his infinite arrogance and the complete lack of care he’d shown since his son’s death he would’ve forgotten about you entirely.

From the way he’s spent the last twenty minutes staring at you while bulldozing past reporters, though, you’re not feeling all that confident.

And for the life of you, you can’t figure out why your presence seems to be disturbing him so much, considering you’re really only there to serve and then fade into the background. It’s not like you’re chasing after him, demanding an autograph much less any kind of acknowledgement – you’re not exactly thrilled to be here either. Things work just fine with the two of you pretending the other doesn’t exist.

Does he think you’ve planned this? Some big ‘fuck you’ to try and mess with what you’re sure will be an announcement of his retainership of the number one position? Even while Touya was still alive, his father didn’t have a place in your life – he was off training his youngest, you barely saw him and you were glad for it.

While he might have hated him, some part of Touya still idolised him, craved his approval, but Enji had never been anything to you but a selfish, unfeeling monster. A bully.

But now he’s staring at you, slack jawed and wide eyed like he’s seen a ghost and it’s harder than you thought it would be to keep that smile plastered across your face knowing he’s watching your every move.

Your cheeks feels hot, and it only gets worse when you realise that Endeavor’s less than subtle behaviour is slowly but surely drawing attention from others in the room. A few curious reporters have shot you odd looks, heads cocked for a moment before dismissing you as just another waitress, hardly headline worthy.

The other heroes are less quick to brush you off. Mirko, current number five, elegantly clasping her glass of champagne in a gloved hand keeps shooting furtive glances between you and Enji, Gang Orca’s beady eyes following you across the floor, a flicker of what you’re fairly sure is concern maring his face.

It’s mortifying. Your smile is stretched and painful, your throat tight and you feel utterly exposed, but there’s nothing you can do. The flame hero doesn’t seem to care about the attention he’s drawing, or that with every passing minute it gets harder and harder for you to maintain that professional, customer service demeanour you need for this job.

And you’re beyond caring if he’s embarrassed to find his firstborn’s soulmate has sunk so low in his absence, you just want him to stop staring so you can finish your shift in peace. But it seems like the flame hero has other plans, because you’re just beginning to seriously weigh up your chances of keeping this job if you just up and walk off right here and now when Enji’s limited patience finally reaches its threshold.

He doesn’t bother offering excuses towards the poor reporter trying to pry an interview out of him, he just abruptly sets his drink down and starts stalking towards you. Rationally, you realise that with all these people here, he can’t make too much of a scene.

It’s just that even the thought of having to talk with him, to look into those blue eyes that are so painfully familiar yet wrong–

You can’t do it.

Not today.

And so you spin on your heel, stomach lurching. The silver tray in your hands stacked high with champagne teeters and falls, crystal glass shattering on the marble floors drawing gasps from the crowd. Endeavor calls out your name but you block him out, desperately weaving your way through the stunned mass of people.

Most of them give you a wide berth, likely due to the oversized hero barrelling after you. He calls your name again, louder this time. It’s not a scream, or a yell – it almost sounds pleading, though you can’t possibly imagine why. Endeavor doesn’t do pleading.

Your cheeks are burning; there’s too many people staring and hot tears begin to prickle at your eyes. A flash of red blurs past your field of vision and you start, a sharp squeak slipping out as a figure lands before you, blocking your exit.

Handsome with bushy eyebrows, dirty blonde hair messily brushed back and golden eyes gleaming; the hero in front of you would be impossible to mistake, even if it weren’t for the sweeping blood red wings sprouting from his back. Hawks, the current number two pro-hero and the only man standing between you and your fumbling escape.

Your body’s slow to catch up with your mind though, and as you try to stop, backpedal and side-step him at once your foot catches on your ankle. It’s instinctive, the way your arms fly up, wildly trying to catch yourself before you fall on your ass.

Just like you suppose it’s instinctive for him to rush forward to do the same.

It happens in a split second, your fingers brushing the skin of his neck just above the collar of his shirt, his hand grasping at your waist to steady you. Beneath his gloved hand a familiar burst of heat warms your skin.

Time slows to a crawl. The ballroom, all the gathered heroes and the press, your co-workers, they all fade into the background as your eyes dart to your fingertips, resting gently on the side of Hawks’ throat. There, a soft, inky black mark begins to unfurl spreading up to his jaw, disappearing below the collar of his turtleneck.

Over the quiet hum of the classical music playing in the background, you hear his breath catch.

He has you dipped, the two of you frozen as if in a dance and for a moment you dare to meet those piercing golden eyes. There’s a clicking sound, a camera shutter you distantly register, but while it makes your heart jump, Hawks pays it no mind.

He stares at you with impossibly wide eyes; open, vulnerable and raw.

And then he blinks, and that glimpse is gone, his grip tightening as he slowly sets you right. He doesn’t let you go, however.

“Hawks,” Enji’s tone is low and gruff, a warning this time.

Tension, thick and crackling with electricity hangs in the air between the three of you, amplified by the crowd of onlookers. All those journalists, chomping at the bit with the realisation of a juicy story playing out right in front of their eyes. Your name’s called out again, not by Endeavor, but by the reporter he’d cut off before – eyeing you now with an eager leer that has you recoiling back into Hawks’ embrace.

It’s enough to jerk the winged hero into action. His mouth finds your ear, his thumb sweeping soothingly along your side as he speaks low enough for only you to hear.

“You wanna leave, baby bird?”

You don’t remember nodding, but you must have, because in the space of a single heartbeat Hawks has you hoisted up in his arms, those powerful wings spreading wide – and you’re flying.

—

“I don’t think I have a job anymore,” you laugh drily, staring down at the city lights twinkling on the horizon.

Beside you, Hawks snorts in agreement, “Hell of a way to make an exit, though.”

He’s not wrong. You can only imagine what the tabloid headlines will say tomorrow ‘Pro Hero sweeps hotel waitress soulmate off her feet’ ‘Hawks mates for life; Endeavor jealous?’ Even if by some miracle your boss wasn’t intent on firing you on the spot, you’re not sure you can even bear to show your face there again.

It’ll be a pain though, trying to find a new job while your face is plastered across every less than reputable news outlet.

Perched atop the rooftop of Hawks’ hotel, halfway across the city, the wind ruffling gently through your hair, everything feels… surreal almost. It’s your birthday, and instead of crashing through the door of your apartment, exhausted and aching before falling face first onto your bed and not moving for the next few hours, you’re here. With the number two pro hero. Who, incidentally, is your second soulmate.

Having more than one soulmate, it’s not unheard of, just… rare.

And your hand’s entwined with his, his gloves long since discarded, his fleece lined jacket draped over your shoulders. Touya’s mark, long since blossomed across your inner wrist lies starkly between the two of you, unignorable.

“It was his son, wasn’t it?” he asks eventually, breaking the fragile silence as he toys with your fingers. When you nervously risk a glance up, Hawks doesn’t look angry or upset or even that jealous. Those golden eyes study your face with an odd kind of curiosity, but there’s no trace of resentment there. “Touya, the one who died. He was your soulmate.”

It’s not a question, but you find yourself nodding anyway. A part of you’s almost surprised he put it together so quickly, but you guess being a pro hero of that calibre requires a little more than just having a strong quirk.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, because what else can you say?

You can’t possibly imagine how he’s feeling right now, what thoughts are running through his head. You’d accepted a long time ago that while you’d love Touya Todoroki until your dying breath, he was gone; that chance of a fairytale happily ever after going with him. Another soulmate wasn’t something you’d ever considered, much less wasted time longing for.

And yet here you are, another mark inked across your skin and it feels wrong somehow, yet also completely right. Imagining being on the other foot; putting yourself in Hawks’ shoes – a pro hero soulmated to some insignificant, quirkless waitress, and not only that, but finding out she has another soulmate, somebody she loved before you, a ghost of a memory you’ll always be competing against… you honestly don’t know how you’d feel.

“Look at me,” he whispers, calloused fingers coaxing at your chin. Heart thrumming like a hummingbird's you comply, letting out another soft squeak as Hawks takes the hand still entwined with his and lifts it to his neck, right above his mark.

He smiles, nuzzling into the touch as your breath stutters. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” Again, you find yourself nodding without even really being conscious of it. It doesn’t seem to matter to Hawks though, whose smile widens at the sight of it. He leans in closer, his breath fanning across your face as molten pools of honey drink you in. You wonder if he can feel the way your pulse is racing under his touch, mixed emotions warring inside of you as he cups your cheek.

“And I’m yours. That’s all I care about, baby bird.”

He’s drawing you into a kiss before you can even comprehend the words, soft lips moving against yours. Gently at first, but that sweetness gives way to a burning urgency as he pulls you closer, holds you tighter.

Hawks kisses you like your lips hold salvation, and it’s frightening and thrilling and it feels like every nerve in your body is electrified when his teeth catch at your bottom lip and he moans your name.

There’s some part of you that realises that you’re moving too fast – soulmates or not he’s practically a stranger – but as you break for air, panting and breathless and Hawks looks at you with those burning, beautiful eyes; you’re helpless to resist.

“Keigo,” he tells you as he lays you down on his bed, crawling up between your thighs with a gleaming, hungry smirk that’s nothing less than predatory, “Call me Keigo.”

#yandere bnha #yandere hawks x reader #yandere dabi x reader #yandere keigo takami x reader #yandere touya todoroki x reader #tw character ‘death’ #tw dub con #soulmate au #I’m not even sorry #except I am #lmao last one I promise