#welp glad I didn’t toss it!

[pl-antics]

Just goes to show it pays to procrastinate throwing away your dead plants… featuring my crusty calathea orbifolia lol

•

6/4/22

#calathea orbifolia #calathea #welp glad I didn’t toss it! #plants #plantblr #house plants #photography #plant #plantblr community #houseplants #houseplant #house plant #dead plants #new growth

[storiesofsvu]

Ridiculously Adorable

Anthony DiNozzo x reader warnings: language, minor injury, sass and banter, flirting. Welp. here we are, it's the first time writing Tony as a pairing, so be kind lol. Hopefully we'll get some more requests for him because I'm slowly fixating and the content out there is practically non existent! criminal. Love DiNozzo and don't want to miss out?! Taglist here! Like what you’ve read? Buy me a coffee🩵🫶🏻

A small light flashed into one of your eyes and then the other before you were asked to follow its movement with both your eyes for a moment or two, the face in front of you trained on yours before they made the assessment that you were okay. You let out a heavy huff, your shoulders drooping as your head tilted back, stretching out your neck before you stood up, only it was a second too soon and you instantly wavered, hand shooting out for the chair beside you.

“DiNozzo!” Gibbs’ called out from beside you, causing you to wince, “take this one home!”

“Boss, I’m fine!” You protested, squinting in his direction.

“Oh c’mon,” Tony called back, “why me?”

“Because you basically pistol whipped her!” Gibbs replied, smacking the back of his head.

“In fairness… I’m not used to the push back on that gun and I did not know she was right behind me.”

“Don’t care. Be glad you didn’t knock her out and that this was just a training exercise not out in the field.”

“The medic cleared me.” You gestured vaguely in the direction they’d disappeared in.

“I still don’t want you driving.” Gibbs shot you a sympathetic look and you let out a breath, “and take the rest of the weekend off.”

“Fine.” You admitted defeat, ripping off your vest and wandering to the sidelines to collect your things as Tony did the same. You were a little surprised he didn’t put up a fight when you started to walk towards your car instead of his, reluctantly tossing him the keys before heading toward the passenger door. “Try not to crash it.”

He muttered something unintelligible back to you as the two of you got into the car, throwing your gear into the backseat and getting settled. Tony had carpooled with you a small handful of times before, not needing much instruction on how to get to your place which you were thankful for, your head seemed to be hurting more now that you were whipping through the city streets. You closed your eyes for a moment in an attempt to block out all the blurry shapes you were speeding by, hoping that would make it better.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked, his voice quiet enough you barely registered it over the whir of the engine.

“Yeah.” You cracked open your eyes, looking over to him, “just a headache. Besides,” your lips twitched up into a smirk, “it’s not like you hit hard, we all know you’ve got a major weak left hook.”

“Oh come on!” He protested and you winced at the volume, shrinking toward the car door and he instantly frowned, “sorry.”

“S’okay. I know how loud you are, why do you think I wanted to wait for McGee?”

“Now you’re just being mean.” He taunted, “why must you hate me so?”

“Bold coming from the man who pistol whipped me today.”

“I said I was sorry.” He insisted, a dejected expression on his face but at least this time you laughed, your elbow finding home on the windowsill as your eyes fluttered shut again.

“Just drive Tony.”

“Yes ma’am.”

His lips flicked up into a grin as he turned his gaze back to the road, appreciating the silence of the drive after an extra long and overloaded day at work. He honestly did feel pretty terrible about how the hit went down, it had been completely on him and he was just thankful you were okay, not to mention now he could tease you about your hard head once you were healed. Throughout the drive he found his eyes flicking over to you, making sure you were still conscious, catching you staring out the window every so often, shifting in your seat to stay comfortable.

“Do you have a remote?” He asked, suddenly breaking you from your drowsiness.

“Huh?”

“For the garage.” He gestured and when you glanced up you realized you were already home.

“Oh.” Reaching into the backseat you dug around for your bag, finally finding your keys, pulling them and the attached FOB out to pass to Tony. You guided him to your parking stall, mentioning that you’d call an Uber for him to get back to work and his car.

“Ohoho,” he chuckled, “you’re not free from me yet, Gibbs would probably have me hunted down if I didn’t make sure you were upstairs alright.”

It was your turn to chuckle softly, “you’re not wrong.” Grabbing your bag from the back seat you stepped out of the car, swinging the door shut behind you, “come on...”

Anthony let out a small laugh, cautiously following you to the elevator a little closer than he normally would, ready to make sure you were steady on your feet now after the twenty minute drive. Once inside your apartment you kicked off your shoes, dumping your coat and bag on the kitchen island with a groan, rubbing at your temples before your hands ran over your face.

“There’s a few beers in the fridge.” You murmured.

“Really don’t think you should be drinking.” He replied and you laughed quietly.

“For you, not me. I need a shower, and you need something to distract yourself from the fact that I’m naked in the next room.” You teased with a smirk, pulling an offended scoff from Tony.

“You know I’m not all boobs and butts right?”

“Oh I know.” You laughed, stepping forward to pinch his cheek, “you like to have this whole playa game going on but you’re really a big ass softie. Otherwise you would’ve left me in the parking lot at work.” You flicked the tip of his nose as he let out a playful laugh, watching you disappear deeper into the house, the sound of the bedroom door clicking shut behind you.

Tony glanced through your apartment, it was always tidier than his, more organized but he could tell that you’d been pretty distracted, more focussed on work recently than keeping up around the house. Feeling bad considering he was likely the reason you needed an extra break over the next couple of days he let out a breath, snagging one of the aforementioned beers from the fridge before he started on his task.

He collected the couple of coffee mugs and single wine glass from the coffee table, sniffing at the take out container before deciding to toss it in the trash. The blankets on the couch got folded, left neatly laid over the back of it before he piled up the notebooks and books on the table into a nice little pile. He was about to take out the trash when he realized he should probably go through the fridge first, adding in anything else that needed to be taken out, stuffing it into the bag and propping the door open so he could dart down the hall.

When he was back he started on the dishes, attempting to find the appropriate places for the dishes you’d already cleaned before turning on the tap and starting on the dirty ones.

You weren’t sure if it was the heat of the water or the jolt to the head that was fogging up your brain but you knew it was finally time to get out of the shower when the water was running cold. You did your best not to grumble as you stepped out of the tub, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel to dry off with before padding through the bedroom to find your comfiest pyjamas.

You were about to drop into bed when you realized not only was the water cup on your nightstand empty but your stomach was growling. Picking up the cup you wandered out to the other side of your apartment, your brow furrowing at the sight of Tony in your kitchen.

“You’re still here?” You asked, your voice a little groggy as Tony turned around to face you.

“I figured you should eat.” He shrugged.

“You cooked?”

“It’s packaged ramen, don’t get your hopes too high.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes, moving to the sink to fill up your cup.

“Probably better than nothing.” You bumped his shoulder with your own, “thanks.”

“I fucked up today.” He let out a soft sigh, reaching into the cupboards to find a bowl, “it’s the least I can do. Besides, you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I’m fine Tony.”

“You could be concussed.” He reminded you, handing you a bowl, “so eat this, drink some water and you let me know the second you feel nauseous or have some kinda migraine. I’ll the take the couch, catch up on tonight’s game” he gestured toward it, “it’ll be chill.”

“Alright.” You let out a small laugh, shooting him a smile as you scooped up your bowl of ramen to settle at the kitchen island.

He ate with you, keeping things quiet, every so often a comment or joke would come from one of the two of you until bowls and cups were empty and the exhaustion began to seep in. Yawning you rubbed at your eyes, letting out a little shiver before Tony was triple checking any symptoms and how you were feeling. After he was sure you were okay, he sent you off down the hallway to climb into bed. You waved in the general direction of the fridge, saying something about how he was more than welcome to finish off the beers, you hadn’t liked that variety anyways and then you were behind closed doors with the lights off.

*

Sunlight was streaming through your curtains and you were cursing yourself for not closing them properly the night prior. Having not set an alarm you were entirely unsure what time it was, thankful that Gibbs had given you the day off and there was no reason to stress about potentially being late. Rolling onto your back you stretched your body out, assessing the pain behind your eyes before you even thought about opening them, hand raised to your face you delicately pressed against your temple, cringing at the tenderness when you did so, knowing there must be a bruise but otherwise things felt fine.

Upon sitting up and checking your phone you noticed it was nearing eleven thirty, still early enough to be called morning but late enough to be considered a sleep in. As you pushed the blankets back you shivered in the cool morning air, digging a hoodie out from your closet to tug on before you wandered into the outer apartment.

The first thing that made your brow furrow was the smell of fresh coffee, the second was something sizzling on the stove and the third was the sight of DiNozzo standing in your kitchen.

“Tony?” You asked, your voice groggy with sleep and he turned around, flicking the burner to low.

“Hey…” he greeted with a warm smile, stepping toward you as you moved through the room, instantly frowning at the bruise on your temple.

“I thought you went home after I went to bed.”

“I told you I was gonna stay, didn’t I?” His thumb and forefinger tenderly cupped your chin, turning your face to get a better look at the bruise as he winced.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Your gaze redirected to the living room, noticing the blankets tossed across the couch.

“It was nothing.” His gaze was still examining your temple, eyes tracing the lines to make sure he hadn’t accidentally broken the skin anywhere.

“I mean you could’ve at least joined me in bed, that couch is shit for sleeping on.”

Considering he still had your head tilted away from him you missed the way his shoulders tensed, how his cheeks began to flush at your words. He let out a soft chuckle, his thumb brushing across your cheek before he dropped his hand and ducked his gaze, turning back to the stove.

“It was doable for one night.”

“Why are you getting all flustered?” You prodded at his ribs with your fingers, causing him to swat you away, “we’ve shared hotel rooms before, why do you think we couldn’t platonically share a bed, it’s not like I have cooties.”

“Okay no—”

Your head tilted as you finally saw the counter, cutting him off before you meant to, “I had avocado?”

“You didn’t.” He let out a tiny huff, his lips curving into a soft smile, “I figured you were gonna be out for a few days and you fridge was pretty empty. So I put in a small grocery order and you’re always bragging about those avocado egg bagel sandwiches,” he sheepishly shrugged, “I was just gonna put it away and take off but I got hungry waiting for it to get here.”

“Tony…” you pinched at his elbow softly, looking up at him with a warm smile your face, your hand lingering on his arm, “you’re being ridiculously adorable right now, you know that?” You watched as he let out a breath of a laugh, his cheeks turning pink as you felt warmth spread through your chest when he caught your gaze. His finger curled under your chin, thumb stroking across your skin gently,

“Maybe that’s cause I think you’re ridiculously adorable.”

“Oh and he’s a smooth talker.” You teased with a smirk and he rolled his eyes, closing the gap between you as your arms loosely wound around his waist, “good thing he’s a cute one.” Your lips brushed his skin before finally settling on his lips, softly kissing him and he kissed you back, grin on his cheeks as you stepped back. His hand cupped your cheek before he instantly got distracted by the bruise again.

“God, how bad does it hurt?”

“It’s kinda throbbing, but hey, could be worse, you could have got me in the eye, I could be blind.”

“Awee,” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, “but then you could’ve gotten a really cute emotional support puppy.”

You practically snorted out a laugh, turning to boop him on the nose, “I think I like this really cute puppy better.”

“You did not just call me a puppy.”

“You like to think you’re a rottweiler when you’re actually just a golden retriever Tony, don’t lie to yourself.” You popped up on your toes to leave a kiss on his cheek, “and thank you.” You gazed up at him with such warmth in your eyes it made his chest flood with happiness, “for all of this.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Smiling, his hand cupped your cheek again, just brave enough to duck down and steal another kiss that you giggled into. “So does this mean I don’t have to bum it on the couch next time?”

“For cuddles only.” You teased, “you’ve gotta buy a girl dinner first.”

He let out an exaggerated groan, “and homemade breakfast counts for nothing?” You laughed, pulling down a couple of mugs for coffee.

“It counts as the official end all apology for this.” You pointed to the bruise on your head.

“I’ll take what I can get.”

Tony tugged you back to him, unable to resist snagging another kiss, never wanting the softness and warmth of this morning to go. While it may not have come to be in a way that either of you expected, there was no doubt that you were both incredibly happy about it. And that was apparent as he tucked you under his arm on the couch, satisfied groans over delicious food and hot coffee as you chose something to watch together, smiles on your cheeks as laughter drifted through the air and you got cozy with the new dynamic you never wanted to let go of.

____________________

@prentiss-theorem @fandom-princess-forevermore @cabotfan42 @alexxavicry @m00nkn1ghts @supercriminalbean @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @momlifebehard @baubeautyandthegeek

#anthony dinozzo x reader #ncis #anthony dinozzo fluff #ncis fanfic #anthony dinozzo

[plothooksinc]

If you’re still taking prompts for the No Rest For The Weary adjacent fic, can we see the guys’ first trip back to Hueso’s pizzaria? With or without April and Mayhem tagging along?

Also, I just found the series and binged it in like 2 days

I'm glad you enjoyed it, anon! Because I can't shut up, you get the weeks preceding it too-- (Note: if the formatting is wonky I apologise but my first attempt to post it took every single space out, hngngngn) Niño idiota: >> aww dont sweat it bm ill be back to dazzle your customers soon!!   

The message came in at lunchtime, and he didn’t see it until the rush had been and gone.  Hueso scowled down at it as if Leonardo had personally insulted him and tossed it into the corner of the kitchen.  Their first day re-opened was chaotic, with many customers seeking a sense of normalcy or not having access to their usual haunts—he’d like to say he was thinking of them by reopening so quickly, but in all honesty, Hueso was a businessman (and previously a pirate to boot) and knew the best way to recoup his loss from the enforced closure was to take advantage of the mess.  That it was also an excellent way to take stock of who had come through the invasion unscathed had nothing to do with it, of course.

He didn’t get back to his phone until late in the evening, having fielded a number of annoying encounters along with customers over-ordering pizza like the invasion was just taking a brief intermission—and dealing with Hop, who timidly called him to make sure the ‘crazy lady with the knife’ was nowhere in evidence before he dared to front for his shift—and by then he was exhausted.  But Leonardo had messaged him again—with a nonsense string of kissy faces and hearts followed by a row of question marks, and he sighed.  A five year old’s need for validation, honestly.

Hueso: >> 💀💀💀✨✨

The boy seemed like his normal self.  He told himself it was less of a relief and more of an annoying reminder that his break from seeing one of his most destructive customers-slash-temporary-waiters was destined to be a short one.  He should take advantage of it while he could.

He didn’t hear from Leonardo again.

Days later, he attempted a call and found the phone was out of service.

He was not worried.  One of the boys would surely come by for pizza now that he was open and he could make polite inquiries.  Asking after a customer’s health was permissible.

(Michelangelo had said he was recovering.  The phone was purely a coincidence.  Leonardo had merely forgotten to pay his bill like the irresponsible boy he was, or he had been using it before being cleared by doctor’s orders and the phone had been confiscated with great prejudice by his brothers.  That was all.)

--------- 

He did not see a single turtle in his restaurant.  

He did, however, hear from someone else; a phone call that took him by surprise, coming in on the main delivery line and asking to speak to the manager.  He came to the phone already annoyed, anticipating some complaint of my pizza is cold, or your special mystic sauce is flirting with my roommate! (It wouldn’t be the first time.  Sometimes his ingredients were very fresh.)

“This is Senor Hueso and I am busy,” he said curtly.  “Your complaint had best be of a suitably drastic nature.”

There was silence for a moment, and then a woman’s rueful voice.  “Ah.  Welp.  You weren’t a hallucination after all, huh?”

It took him a moment to place her, and then Hueso blinked and retreated into his office, closing the door behind him.  “Mrs O’Neil?”

“Just Carol’s fine,” she said.  “You, uh… I’m just trying to ground myself?  A little?  Things have been weird.”

“And so you decided to call the skeletal owner of a mystic pizzeria to feel normal again,” he said drily.  “I see. It makes perfect sense.”

“You’d be surprised.  Listen, I have two reasons to call—I know you’re busy so I won’t keep you tied up.”

He found he didn’t mind, actually.  It was rare that a human willingly associated with the yokai, though it spoke volumes that the two humans he’d found that would do so were related to each other.  “Go ahead.”

“First was just to, uh, touch base?  And make sure you got my message, and—I meant it.  You helped out a lot.”

“You are welcome, Senora.”  He nearly added any time, but frowned and thought better of it.  Hueso did not wish to encourage anyone to rely on him.  That was foolish.  “And the second?”

There was a brief pause.  When she spoke again, she sounded almost sheepish.  “...yeah.  Uh… it’s another stupid question, probably.”

“Of course.”  He braced himself for another inane question about skeletons.

“Yeah.  Does your, uh… pizzeria… even though we’re human, um—”

He blinked.  

And then, almost against his will, he smiled.  

“Senora, that is a stupid question.  Kindly remember all the times my employees have delivered to your daughter.”

“Oh, thank god.  Or...whatever you guys believe in—”

“Quit while you are ahead, perhaps.”  But now he was outright amused, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, noted.  Okay.  So some more spicy chicken…?  Two, I think.  We’re at a hotel right now, will that be a problem?”

“Not at all.  I will pass the order on to the staff.”  He hesitated.  “At a hotel?  Your apartment is a lost cause?”

“For now.  April’s, uh, friends?  Are paying for us to stay here, and I guess they’ll give us the all clear. Hopefully soon.”

Ah.  Sometimes it did, in fact, pay to ask sociable questions.  He leaned forward, voice rising eagerly.  “You have met her friends? The—” Turtle boys.  He stopped himself from saying it, because in all likelihood she had not met them and, annoying though they may be, that was a secret he would keep.

“No.” She paused, and then added shrewdly, “But April is staying with them, and I’m sure she’d have said something if they weren’t doing okay.”

He wasn’t sure April would have said anything at all, actually, given how tight-lipped she’d been on the topic of both mutants and yokai.  But knowing that she was staying with the boys did give him some level of reassurance that they hadn’t just vanished from the face of the earth.  

“Gracias,” he said anyway, and reached for his notepad.  “I had lost contact with them, so was… curious.  Tell me your hotel and room number and I will get your order ready.”

--------- 

His delivery girl came back with a hotel business card in one hand, Carol’s mobile number scrawled on the back, and a brief message:

Just in case. I’ll ask April about them in the meantime xx Carol

Well.  That certainly was an offer.  A perceptive woman, indeed.

He tucked the card into his business card book, face down so the message was hidden.   

--------- 

Perhaps Leonardo was avoiding him.  

The idea filled him with annoyance.  He also knew it was extremely unlikely, but he far preferred this irritating potential reason over anything more serious.  Hueso let himself believe this for a day and a half before he had to acknowledge that, foolish though the boy might be, he would not avoid the pizzeria just because Hueso had made a comment about an extra shift to pay for damages.  He would own up to it, if only to make childish comments about how much Hueso could rely on him and filch extra slices of garlic bread when he thought nobody was looking.  And potentially cause even more damage, because that seemed to be par for the course these days.  

The thought made him smile faintly-- until he realised he was very close to daydreaming about Leonardo accidentally trashing his pizzeria, and he nearly snapped poor Hop’s head off when he fumbled a serving a few moments later.  What a ridiculous thought.  (And he was annoyed at himself, not the staff, so he made sure to let Hop leave a few minutes early as an apology.)

Perhaps Leonardo had attempted to open a portal while concussed and had accidentally stranded himself in some remote farmstead.  That seemed as likely as avoiding him.  Or he had been portal jacked by pirates, and any moment now Piel would open the door to his restaurant and drag the turtle in like some waterlogged kitten, draped in seaweed and clinging to his ridiculous sword and wearing both those ridiculous eyepatches again, good grief what had the boy even been thinking (clearly he hadn’t been) and Leonardo would beam at him and launch into a tale of all the mermaids he’d met and flirted with until Piel dropped him mid-spiel and stormed out again.  

Perhaps he had quite deliberately portalled his family to Tahiti this time to recover in luxury.

...doubtful.

Perhaps…

Perhaps he was thinking about this too much.

Hueso put it aside and went to serve the family of googlyschmootzes that had just arrived and didn’t think about it again.

For a good twenty minutes.

--------- 

He broke.

Hueso: >>Buenas noches, Carol.  Could I ask if you have any word? >>This is Senor Hueso.

Senora O’Neil: >>Evening!  I will see what I can do.  I’m sure they’re fine.

-------- 

They were not fine.

Carol did not text him.  But the following evening, his waitress Gloriana knocked on his office door to tell him that one of the turtle boys had arrived and was asking for him, and he barely let her finish before Hueso was moving past her and through the kitchen at a speed a little too risky for an area full of sharp implements.  

April was at his front counter, peering listlessly at one of the menus, and he took a moment to observe just how tired she looked before he took in the hunched bulk that was Raphael slouching next to her, and he froze.  He already knew April had been injured—had seen her arrive with her face a mess, knew about the attack—but it was the sight of the large snapper that made him feel the first unfamiliar touch of… anger.  

Fear.  

Raphael’s arms were thoroughly bandaged, swathed above his plastron and neck, and his eye was covered in a patch that made him think nonsensically for a moment, ah, so it was pirates after all.  But it was the large chunk missing from the curve of his shell that horrified him, the sight of a near miss that was far above and beyond their usual shenanigans.

They are children, he thought.  This is too much for children.

If Raphael was the only one to visit him, how badly off were the others?

He did not ask.  Instead, Hueso regarded them with a face he hoped was impassive, and tugged the brim of his hat down slightly.  

“I see life has not been kind to you lately,” he said.  “I hope you do not think this entitles you to a discount.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” April said politely, but the knowing smirk that curved onto her exhausted face warned him ahead of time.  “Especially as we’re not here for pizza.”

...ah.  Carol had ratted him out.  Very rude, considering he had not once mentioned he was concerned.  He flicked his gaze to Raph, who gave him a wan smile of his own, blinking slowly with his one good eye as if he were considering going to sleep right there at the counter.  

Hueso sighed.  It wasn’t the end of the world.  

“I suppose you had better come through to my office.”

--------- 

April’s nose was newly bandaged and her bruises were that particular array of colours that always arrived in the process of healing.  That was something, at least, though Hueso couldn’t help but note the smaller bandage patch behind one ear.  She had been hurt more since he last saw her.  Perhaps they all had.  It made him fret over Leonardo’s last message and out of service phone all over again.  

“My doctor insisted on checking it out, but it’s all healing well,” she said, taking the mug of coffee from him. She was sitting on one edge of the worn couch he kept in his office, slouching against its side with a carelessness that made him wonder how long it had been since she’d slept well.  Raphael was taking up the rest of it, sitting there with his hands clasped on his knees and clearly trying not to fidget.

“I did not ask,” Hueso said levelly, and held out another mug to the turtle.  He didn’t seem to notice.

“No, but I ain’t blind,” April retorted.  “Mikey’s right, you are a big softie.”

He sighed.  “A terrible slur upon my reputation.”

“Sure it is.” She grinned over the rim of her mug, and elbowed Raph in the side, who started and then finally noticed Hueso’s outstretched hand.  “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with us.  Right, Raph?”

“Right,” Raph said automatically, taking the mug.  Then he blinked.  “Wait, what?”

Dios mio.  Hueso raised an eyebrow.  “Raphael.  How long has it been since you slept?”

“Uhhh…”

The fact that he trailed off and frowned spoke volumes, and Hueso sighed again.  Well, he hadn’t been fooling them anyway.  Or, at the very least, he hadn’t fooled April.  He turned on his heel and went to the cupboard. “I assume your mother asked you to stop by.”

“You assume right,” she said, relaxing back with her coffee.  “Guess I’m doing a proof of life tour today.  I checked in with her, she asked me to follow up.”

“I see.  I feel you should have left this one home to sleep.”  

Raph frowned at that.  “Yeah, well, this one thought April could do with company.  It’s been a, uh, week.”

That gave him pause.  “Does this ‘a, uh, week’ begin before or after the zombie attack at the O’Neil apartment?”

“Man, don’t ask him to count days at this point,” April said wryly as Raph took on a more confused expression.  “Just assume things have been chaotic as hell since the day the sky opened up and rained bubblegum on us.”

“Such a misleading way to describe an alien invasion.” Hueso snorted, hiding his worry.  Not that it seemed to matter with this company.  “That almost sounds cute.”

“Never had bubblegum in your hair, huh.”

Hueso served her with A Look.  “In my clearly bountiful hair?  No.”

Then he threw a blanket from the cupboard across, hitting Raph in the face, and pointed.  “You, nap.  You.” To April. “Tell me what has happened, and why Leonardo’s phone is out of service.”

Raph blinked as the blanket slid off his face and landed in his lap.  “Wait, it is?”  And he started to fumble for his phone, until April put a hand gingerly on his shoulder.  “April?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s okay,” she said, eyes wide.  “We didn’t know it was out of service, but it makes sense.  I remember the last place he had it.  I think Leo needs a new phone.”

That was at least vaguely reassuring that Leonardo was alive and in need of technology somewhere, but April’s dancing around the point only served to irritate him.  “You are both very tired, it seems, if you did not realise before now.”

“Yeah well, you try dealing with two invasions in the space of a week,” April shot back.  “Leo’s phone getting eaten is kind of less important than, you know, Leo himself.  And Mikey.  And everyone losing their freaking homes and—”

And Raphael put out one of his giant hands to settle her back on the couch before she could get to her feet, grimacing faintly at Hueso, and he put up his skeletal hands in a gesture of apology.  

“I did not mean to imply any stupidity,” he said faintly, reeling a little at the sheer amount he needed to unpack in that small rant.  “I am merely… concerned at how exhausted you are.”  There, now he was being honest.  What was the world coming to?  He didn’t know where to start, so he started with the most bizarre.  “His phone was eaten?”

“It wasn’t me,” Raphael muttered, and April broke into a laugh before she could help herself, slapping a hand over her mouth.  

Hueso texted a message out to his kitchen staff and took a seat, feeling far more brittle than he had a few minutes ago.  Teenagers.  Very tired teenagers.  The laugh had sounded less amused and more borderline hysterical, so when he spoke again, he was as gentle as he could be.

“Perhaps you ought to start from the beginning.”

--------- 

Gloriana knocked on the door ten minutes later with a platter of cheesy bread sticks and spicy meatballs.  By then, April had finished telling him about the attack on the lair, Agent Bishop’s involvement and mistakes, and Leonardo and Michelangelo’s rescue.  The mention of Bishop would have set his hair on end if he had any; he was familiar with the man, given his restaurant straddled the line between the Hidden City and New York, and there had been harassment before certain rules were put in place and Bishop promptly lost interest.  

Raphael had fallen asleep during April’s spiel, and she had tucked the blanket over him without so much as a pause and carried right on, and the practised move was doing something unfortunate to Hueso’s emotions.  Or perhaps that was just the realisation of just how terribly things had gone after Leonardo’s last message to him; how close the family had come to tragedy.  

They were children.  

(Also, Leonardo’s phone being eaten by a possessed train was nowhere on his spiralling bingo card--)

He took the platter with a nod of thanks and closed the door, sliding it onto the coffee table in front of them.  April needed no encouraging and snagged two breadsticks with the flash of a grateful smile.  He sat and politely let her wolf them down before he spoke again.

“They are all right now?”

“Mikey just overextended himself and is sleeping it off,” she said, and he wondered how much of an understatement that was.  He did not pry.  “Leo’s… not doing great, given the timing, but he’ll be okay with time.  Might be a while before he’s back to pester you, though.  Or take any shifts.”

“I will somehow manage without this added disruption in my life,” he said with a straight face.  He was partly relieved; mostly, however, he was quietly calculating just how hurt the boy must be to be gone for a while.  To be taken straight from a hospital bed before he had a chance to recover-- “And you say both of these aliens are now dead, yes?”

“With extreme prejudice,” April said with satisfaction.

“I am sure my customers will be relieved to hear the danger has fully passed, then.”  He sipped his tea.

“Oh yeah, sure.” She grinned at him, snagging another bread stick.  “And I’ll let Leo know you were worried about him.”

He frowned at her over his cup.  “You will not.  He is insufferable enough as it is and I will confess to nothing.”

“Hmm, I dunno…”

“I can still charge you for those bread sticks you are eating.”

“Man, you think my silence can be bought?”   She waved at him with the bread stick in question before biting it in half, and he sighed.

“I was under the impression humans were easily corruptible, yes.” 

“Oh, we totally are.”

The O’Neil women were definitely going to be headaches in his life, weren’t they.  Hueso found he wasn’t particularly annoyed by that fact, but he made sure to sigh again.  It gave him an opening in any case. “Would you like to take some food home with you?  The family must surely be quite exhausted, if they are all dead on their feet like the two of you.”

“That would be amazing and my lips are sealed,” April said sunnily.  “Only can we get stuff that isn’t pizza? We kind of, uh, wanna hold off on that for a bit.  Long story.”

Odd.  But he didn’t care enough to question it.  She had overloaded him with enough stressful exposition already.  “I will put together some other options.  It...may take a while, if you care to rest until it is—”

A green hand landed flat on top of the meatball pile, and they both jumped.  And watched as Raphael grabbed a full handful of meat and shoved it into his mouth, chewing slowly before letting out a snore and sinking back into sleep again.

Well, then.  He was beginning to understand why Raph had defended himself about eating phones.  

“Does he do this often?”

April cackled.

--------- 

Mayhem was in his kitchen.

Having a staring contest with Hop.

Hueso counted to ten.  And then tapped the rabbit yokai politely on the shoulder, pretending he didn’t see the boy jump more than strictly necessary.  “You have work to do.  I will deal with the interloper.”

Hop nodded vigorously and then took off the front counter, stumbling over his own big feet on the way out the door.  Hueso sighed.  And took his place, staring down the tiny yokai with the most unimpressed look he could manage.

Mayhem stared mildly back.

“I am going to put together some pasta and burritos for the Hamatos,” Hueso said finally.  “When I am done, kindly make sure it gets back to wherever they are staying and deposit the two in my office directly into their beds.  Then I will consider us even.”

Mayhem tilted his head as if he couldn’t possibly know what Hueso was talking about; as if the little sneak hadn’t dumped humans in his lap not one week before.  His tail dipped off the ledge he was sitting to wave dangerously close to a pot full of bubbling mince.

Hueso pointed a finger bone at him.  “Do not threaten me, pequeña mierda.  I know where you came from.”

Mayhem stuck his nose in the air and turned away.  But his tail curled around him obediently and his ears twitched back.  

Just so long as they were agreed.

--------- 

April was snoring on top of Raphael when he returned.  He took a picture, careful to cut Raphael out of the shot, and sent it to Carol.

Hueso: >> You told her I was concerned.  A lie and a terrible betrayal.

Carol’s response took a while in coming.  He wondered if she was laughing at him.

Mrs O’Neil: >> Which is it? 👀 A lie or a betrayal it can’t logically be both 

Hueso: >> We will have words about this later.  For now, I am sending your daughter home to bed.

Mrs O’Neil: >> Gracias, Senor.  

--------- 

Knowing the family were okay did set his mind at ease somewhat.  His restaurant seemed much quieter without the turtles coming through, but it wasn’t as if Run of the Mill was a picture of serenity without them.  Not with his customer list including mob bosses and smugglers and the occasional pirate, but largely his customers knew very well to treat his restaurant with respect and cause no issues (providing, of course, he did not double-book certain parties ever again.)  

Life settled into some semblance of normal over the next week as the invasion became more distant; for the majority of the yokai it had been merely a source of hushed gossip, trapped as they were quite safely in the Hidden City’s lockdown.  (Hueso was under no illusions.  If the invasion had not been halted on the surface, the Krang would have found them all eventually.  He kept that to himself.)

Carol messaged him some days later, minutes after closing, and he glanced down at the message and couldn’t help his faint huff of amusement:

Carol: >> YOU DIDN’T SAY HER FRIENDS WERE GREEN >> also thank you for the complimentary cheesecake how did you know

Hueso: >> I didn’t say they were human, either. >> I have my ways. You can work them out yourself I’m sure.

Carol: >> A lie and a terrible betrayal!!! >> You saw the delivery address.  More stupid questions?

Hueso: >> I do not think that is the clever retort you think it is.  I neither lied nor betrayed.  I am an honest man* >> * Terms and conditions apply >> Also yes, but you are welcome.  Your home is intact?

Carol: >> For the most part.  Some minor repairs needed.  >> The boys are fine.  I only met one, but he’s charming in an awkward sort of way.  They’re coming for dinner next week!

Ah.  Hueso closed the door to his office, leaning against it, and felt… lighter.  That was promising.  In more ways than one.  If the boys were going to a family dinner, they were okay.  And Carol had met a turtle and invited him to dinner.  Truly, a unique human being.  He suspected he was going to enjoy their conversations.

(He wondered if she threatened the turtle with a knife first.)

Hueso: >> All of them?

Carol: >> As far as I know.  Does that help?  Would you like me to pass on a message?

“Like you did last time?” he muttered.  But he appreciated the offer even so.

Hueso: >> That is quite all right.  If they are well enough for dinner, I’m sure I will be seeing them myself sometime soon.  Gracias.

He saw the dots come up and vanish again, then reappear, and he waited patiently.  

Carol: >> You’re welcome 🥰

He wondered what she had been typing.  But his curiosity was only mild, and it had been a long day; Hueso collected his briefcase, checked in with the closing staff, and made his way home in a surprisingly good mood.  

--------- 

The following weekend, he woke to find she had sent him a picture.  He opened it over breakfast and promptly spat milk across the table.  

It was a picture of April, holding up her phone with a wide grin, her camera panned back to catch Donatello perched on the back of a couch like a menacing and mildly deranged vulture.  Those strange machine hands of his were extended down with markers in their pincers, scrawling on the side of a sleeping Leonardo’s face.  Michelangelo was leaning over one side of the couch with a marker in his hands but it looked like he was laughing too much to contribute, and he could just see Raphael—a much less exhausted and less bandaged Raphael, for which he was quietly relieved—looking at the camera with a grin and gesturing at his brothers, his mouth smeared with… chocolate?  That was probably chocolate--

Carol: >> Proof of life 🎊🎊

Hueso: >> A terrible invasion of their privacy.  

Carol: >> I’m innocent!  My daughter is the fiend here.  You don’t hae to worry, I didn’t say a word >> *have

If Leonardo was sleeping at this dinner, he was still healing—but clearly in safe territory, if his brothers were… well.  Being brothers.  He’d certainly woken up several times as a child to find his bones decorated in all kinds of rude messages.  Hueso grimaced at the memory and took a closer look.  

The boy had lost weight.  Not enough to be frightening; enough that Hueso contemplated whether he could get away with inflicting more food on them without the repercussions of Leonardo’s smarmy grin and assumptions.  Probably not.  Besides, he had faith that Carol would have fed them well and Michelangelo was an excellent chef in his own right.  He was not needed here.

Hueso: >> Gracias. >> Is it all right if I print this?

Carol: >> You may do with it what you like.  April knew what she was doing.

Like mother, like daughter.  The girl was a menace.  But in this case… he smiled and tucked back into his breakfast, wiping up the spilled milk with a napkin.  April was all right.  He would have to let her know that her family was welcome at his pizzeria, provided they were not easily shocked by some of his clientele.

--------- 

Carol🗡️: >> Maybe a quieter night.  Do you have quiet nights?

Hueso: >> First Wednesday of the month is Human Night Out.  It only attracts the younger yokai.

Carol🗡️: >> Sounds ominous.  Human Night Out?

Hueso: >> Wherein we hide all traces of the Hidden City and pretend we are a human pizzeria.  There are costumes.

Carol🗡️: >> ...that’s actually something yokai are interested in?

Hueso: >> You don’t have theme nights in your own restaurants?  The younger yokai are fascinated by humans.  The older… not so much.  It is quieter.  There are ‘exotic’ dishes which I think you would find fairly mundane.    The yokai would think you were just in disguise.

Carol🗡️: >> Okay that’s amazing.  Don’t you lose money though?

Hueso: >> Not when people pay a premium for the exotic dishes.

Carol🗡️: >> I detect a con.

Hueso: >> I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.  Booking for 7pm?

Carol🗡️: >> We’ll be there.  I’ll review your exotic dishes.

Hueso: >> I’ll give you a discount for your first time if you review them positively.

Carol🗡️: >> We’ll see 😁

--------- 

[unknown number] >> I know I know youve been so worried about me I amhere 

Hueso: >> New phone, who is this

Niño idiota: >> Ohohoho OUCH we gotta work on ur meme skills u did it wrong

Hueso: >> I’m sure I don’t care.

Niño idiota: >> well when u decide u do care as u inevinnev something something do its ‘new phone who dis’

Hueso: >> ‘inevitably’.

Niño idiota: >> that’s what i said >> anyway sorry i was out of touch i lost my phone??  prolly left it somwhere u know how it is >> I owe u a shift just lmk when

Hueso is typing… Hueso is typing…

Niño idiota: >> did I break u with like responsibillity want me to be an idiota just to balance things??

Hueso: >> I will not need anyone for a few weeks.  But do not think you are off the hook.  I am sure I can find something tedious for you to do. >> You are already an idiot no need to rub it in.

Niño idiota: >> u love me and u know it

Hueso: >> Debatable.

Niño idiota: >> Debatable!!!  thats not a no u no

Hueso: >> Get some sleep and learn to spell.  I am busy.

Niño idiota: >> ✨🎊👏👏😘😊😏 >> in that order or

> Read 3.48pm

Niño idiota: >> you leave idiota on read???  rude tbh jail bla bla bla >> 🥺🥺🥺 >> 😎see u soon✨

--------- 

“—get it, but I wish you’d told me before this!”  The voice was whining and petulant and very, very familiar. He felt a Pavlovian sense of annoyance rise up almost as fast as the sheer relief, and Hueso opened the kitchen door a crack to peer out.  

Sure enough, there they were.  Finally.  Leonardo was leaning against the closest booth to the alleyway portal, but he was on his feet and that was good enough.  Michelangelo was latched onto one arm and Hueso couldn’t tell if it was clingy affection or for extra stability.  Perhaps both.  Leonardo’s pout was ridiculously overdramatic, which told Hueso the boy was perfectly fine with whatever he hadn’t been told, and if he had eyes, he would roll them.  Teenagers. 

“Sorry, Leo, we kinda forgot.”  Raphael rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.  The eye patch was gone with no sign of wounds beneath.  “It was a spur of the moment thing, but the kid’s never had pizza, so—”

“Nah, I get it,” Leo said, waving his free hand.  “But I’m totally complaining about this injustice for the rest of the night, just so you know.”

“Oh nooo, a surprise no one could have foreseen, however will we manage your-- oh wait, I have headphones.” Donatello, moving around them with a look of complete disinterest and his phone in his hand.  

There.  All four of them.  

Hueso breathed.  Hop had already picked up his notebook and was rounding the counter; he managed to catch him by the shoulder before Hop could get further (another jump, were all rabbit yokai so anxious or just this one?) and took the notebook from him, gesturing with his bony chin toward the kitchen.  The message was clear:  trade places.  

Then he waited until all four were seated—pretended he wasn’t paying attention to the way Michelangelo helped Leonardo into the booth—and sauntered over, the picture of nonchalance, grateful that his voice was dry as the desert when he spoke.  “Ah, my most destructive customers.  I thought it had been quiet around here.”

Donatello didn’t even look up from his phone, which was the very picture of normal for him.  But the other three did, with Raphael and Michelangelo throwing him cheerful smiles.  Leonardo lit right up with a flash of teeth in a smug grin that said he was about to say something incredibly obnoxious.  Good.  Business as usual.  Even if he wasn’t currently flailing at Hueso with his usual dramatics, which he suspected meant the boy was still sore, at the very least.  

“Bone man!”  Leonardo beamed, then sprawled in the booth with a barely-there wince, propped up by his little brother.  “Toldja it’d be soon.  Miss me?”

“Yes,” he said flatly.  “But my aim is getting better.”

Donatello snorted at his screen, and Leonardo made a face.  “Seriously?  That’s like… so old, you need to hang around someone younger with better jokes—”

“Someone like you, perhaps?”  Hueso pinned him with a look, tapping his notebook.  “You seem to have forgotten where I heard that from in the first place.”

“Memory issues,” Michelangelo said solemnly, pushing Leonardo delicately upright again.  “Concussions will do that to ya.”

Hueso raised the notebook to hide his smile as Leonardo shot him a betrayed look.  “You told him?”

“I’m sorry, was that meant to be a secret?”  Donatello glanced up finally.  “We’ve been incommunicado for weeks after an invasion and he called you while you were sleeping it off.  What do you think we told him?”

“I told him, technically,” Michelangelo said cheerfully, “But it’s okay, Leo!  I didn’t tell him anything else! Pinky promise.”

Raphael raised a hand sheepishly.  “Yeah, uh, but April and Raph might’ve...”

Leonardo’s expression flickered from surprised to guilty to mildly distressed before it settled on the sulkiest frown he’d seen on the boy yet.  “Well, that’s not fair.  I was gonna like… derail him with tales of our epic adventures and everything, and you beat me to it.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘regale’, Nardo.”  

“Derailing may still happen,” Hueso said dryly, tapping his finger bones on the edge of the table to get their attention back.  “If you intend to continue this fascinating conversation rather than order your food?”

“Hah,” Leonardo muttered.  “That’s totally what I meant—”

“Hush up,” Michelangelo said, leaning past him.  “I’m hungry.  Can I get the mystic lasagna?”

He took their orders after that, watching them carefully as they talked.  Raphael’s eye was a little red, but was tracking correctly and obviously focused.  A good sign, he hoped.  Donatello seemed utterly like his normal self, and Michelangelo was wearing what seemed to be compression gloves.  Leonardo… was still thin, and looked very tired, but Hueso had seen him far more exhausted.  There were splashes of vivid colour creeping over the top of his shell which he couldn’t help but stare at, trying to work out what they were.  

Leonardo tilted his head at the curiosity, and then smiled more genuinely, twisting slightly so that Hueso could get a better look.  “Like it?  My little brother is awesome, as usual.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Michelangelo huffed, but he was grinning as Hueso stared at the beautifully painted marigolds, petunias, and tulips winding their way across Leonardo’s shell.  

The boy was an impressive artist; not just for the careful love and detail on such an unusual surface, but the way he’d crafted his art to disguise injury.  Because Hueso had to pay very close attention to see the repair job to the shell beneath.  

The damage had been… extensive.  He’d thought Raphael’s shell had been bad; no wonder he had been incommunicado for so long.  

Leonardo’s smile shifted strangely on his face, and he sounded almost uncertain.  “What do you think?”

Ah.  It was hard to translate what Leonardo really wanted to hear.  But given the way Michelangelo had gone so far to hide this injury… he leaned back again, humming thoughtfully.  “I think the next time I would like new art for the restaurant, I should see if your brother is free.  It may perhaps be a less destructive option than waiting tables.”

Leonardo grinned in pride as Michelangelo brightened next to him.  “Really?  I would love to do some art for you, Senor Hueso!  I could bring my portfolio next time!”

“You have a portfolio?” Raphael looked confused.  “Wait, what’s a portfolio?”

“It’s a port just for me, duh,” Leo drawled, and then reeled back as Donatello threw a wad of napkins into his face.  “Hphh!”

“That was terrible and you know it.”

“It was pretty great, actually.”  Leonardo spat a piece of napkin at him and smiled lazily.  “You’re just jealous I thought of it first.”

Donatello resolutely ignored him and turned to Raphael.  “It’s a collection of sample works that illustrate an artist’s skill and range.”

...had they forgotten he was here?  Typical.  He coughed loudly, and watched them all swivel back to him attentively.  “Yes, bring your portfolio.  I suppose I am interested.  The flowers look very lovely.”  He paused, but in the end he couldn’t resist.  “Though it does make you look like you’re about to be thrown at a wedding.”

“Sounds like a fun sport,” Donatello drawled.  “Let’s get Kendra married off so we can bowl Leo at her bridal party.  If she has enough friends for that.”

“Can—can we wait until he can survive that first, Raph would like not to panic all over again—” 

“Why should Leo get all the fun?  I’m the small one, let me be the bouquet!”  Michelangelo had literal stars in his eyes.  “I’d love to be a bunch of flowers.”

“Yeah, but you can hardly paint your own back, Miguel.”

“Challenge accepted.  This bitch yeet!”

“Okay, one:  language, and two:  even Raph knows that’s not how it goes—”

“What’s wrong with yeet?”

“Leonardo--”

Maybe he shouldn’t have made the joke.  Hueso sighed heavily, and this time it didn’t stop them from continuing on with... apparently inventing a brand new hobby.  Teenagers.  But lively ones, and he would rather they were here giving him a headache than go through the weeks of quiet that had preceded this one.  

“I’ll take your orders to the kitchen,” he said, and turned on his heel.

“Hey, wait—”

There was a tug on his sleeve, and he turned in surprise to find Leonardo half out of the booth and trying to keep his balance; Michelangelo had an arm wrapped around him to stop him falling, but was still arguing with the others.  Apparently he’d lunged to get Hueso’s attention without thinking it through.  Good grief.  He stepped forward and put his bony hand under Leonardo’s elbow, gently pushing him back into his seat.

“Do not do that again,” he said quietly, and Leonardo made a sheepish face.

“Sorry.  I just wanted to, uh…”

He trailed off.  Hueso raised an eyebrow and waited patiently until he glanced away.

“Did we worry you?”

What an odd question.  Or rather, what an odd delivery.  He would have expected Leonardo to be smug, taking it as proof of their friendship, but Leonardo seemed more anxious about the prospect.  And Hueso thought back to their text conversation.  To the boy’s completely nonchalant dismissal of his silence and missing phone.

“Only a little,” he said, voice mild.  “In truth, I was more impressed by the tale.  One could say that you and your brothers acted like…”  

And Hueso smiled.  Pointedly. 

“...champions.”

Leonardo mouthed the word back in confusion, before realisation lit his face.  Hueso took advantage of the pause to move away, heading for the kitchen with his notebook, listening briefly to the conversation behind him--

“Raph!  Raph!  Hey, gimme a lift, I need to go check the Wall of Champions—”

Hueso vanished into the kitchen and passed off their order to his kitchen hands.  He only had two photos of the boys, after all.  One was still quite firmly pinned to the Maze of Death cheaters wall.  The other--

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?”

His staff shrank back; both at the yell and at Hueso’s wide grin, which admittedly looked downright unnerving on a living skeleton, he could admit--

“Omigosh we’re champions!”

“With this photo!?  YOU’RE DRAWING ON MY FACE!”

“Well, someone had to.  I, at least, look suitably championlike—”

“You look like a deranged gremlin is what you look like.  Couldn’t he, like, edit out the chocolate first?”

“I mean, it could be worse, Leo!  We could have been drawing something that wasn’t PG-13.”

“Where’s April?  I’m gonna kill her.” Leonardo was wailing.  “She sent this to Hueso!?”

Hueso swept through the kitchen and into his office, shutting the door behind him so that nobody could hear him laugh.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fic #oh only 14 pages an improvement--/shot #nekotsuki #no rest for the weary #(adjacent) #furthering my carol and hueso friendship agenda don't mind me #also I wanna hang that photograph on MY wall lmao

[hollybell51]

Chapter Five

What’s said and done

Our Treasure - Jim Hawkins x fem!Reader

Chapter Four, masterpost

Word count:  2055

Summary: you regret some things you said and say some things you regret. 

Notes: sorry for the wait lol, this is my desperate attempt to raise the stakes and add some of that lovely angst we all live for. This is also where I show you all just how terrible I am at writing action, and how limited my vocabulary is... I’m truly sorry. 

The next morning, you were woken early by John shaking your shoulder and holding out a piece of toast. You pushed your hair out of your face, sitting up and opening your mouth to ask what was going on.

“Shh!” he held a finger up to his lips, glancing around. “Come on.”

You shuffled over to where your boots were jumbled in a heap with your jacket where you’d flung them the night before, pulling both garments on and taking John’s proffered piece of toast. You quickly did a check of the kitchen – where you slept most nights, then followed the cook up onto the main deck, then below again to the stores.

Some of our crew were already there. You swung up onto one of the rafters, letting your legs dangle over the edge and the crumbs from your toast rain down on anyone unfortunate enough to stand beneath you.

“All I’m saying is that we’re sick of all this waiting!” The aptly named Bird Brain Mary’s voice cut harshly through the low murmurs of everyone else, and you frowned. You could never fathom why you always had to get stuck with the most annoying life forms roaming the galaxy. It was like you were a magnet for them or something. 

“Ve are vanting to move!” Meldown backed her up, his thick accent making the words sound all the more fervent. 

“We don’t move ‘til we got the treasure in ‘hand!” John reprimanded. You took another bite of toast, smiling innocently down at Hands, who glowered at the crumbs on his arm. You didn’t understand why John wanted you there – he could have handled it easily by himself.

“I say we kill ‘em all now…” Scroop hissed, scuttling to the front of the crowd.

“I say what we do!” John almost shouted, grabbing Scroop by the neck. “Disobey my orders again like that stunt you pulled with Mr Arrow and my cabin girl, and so help me you’ll be joinin’ ‘im!” He tossed the Mantavor roughly against a barrel in the corner.

“Strong talk,” he hissed, getting to his feet. “But I know otherwise.”

“You got something you wanna add?” you called from your perch, swinging your legs back and forwards.

“Ah…” he sighed, withdrawing a purp from the barrel, “it’s that boy. Methinks you have a soft spot for him.” He looked between you and John, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “The both of you.”

You felt your stomach sink, but tried as hard as you could to keep up the appearance of nonchalance. You took another bite of toast, crunching on the crust loudly. The crew were muttering in agreement with Scroop, which wasn’t good. Could he have seen you and Jim last night?

“Now mark me the lot o’ ya!” John growled, “I care about one thing, and one thing only! Flint’s trove! Ya think I’d risk it all for the sake o’ some nose-wiping little welp?”

“Yeah,” you added, “he’s nothing to me. Just a way to get that treasure.” God, you were glad Jim wasn’t there right now.

“What was it now?” Scroop said, putting on a fakely sentimental face. He grinned, then said in a crude imitation of your voice: “you saved my life, Jim.” He turned to John, then continued: “you’ve got the makins of greatness in ya—”

“Shut your yap!” the cook snapped. “I cosied up to that kid to keep ‘im off our scent. But I ain’t gone soft.”

You were stopped from defending yourself by the shout of “land ho!” from the deck above, and the uproar that followed. You jumped down from the rafters, rushing with everyone up to see the planet. The sight of it chased Scroop’s words and the guilty pit in your stomach from your thoughts. It was beautiful, just the way you remembered it from the book you had as a child. The two criss-crossing rings of luminescent green and greyish rocks stood out against the smokiness of the surrounding space, chucks of black rock floating at random around you.

“Jim!” you shouted, running down to where most of the crew slept in search of him. It was empty but for a few scattered belongings, so you ran back up the stairs and onto the deck. He wasn’t there either, so you checked the kitchen. Maybe he’d gone to find you.

Nobody was in the kitchen, but you grabbed a few knives and shoved them at random into your belt anyway. It never hurt to be prepared. You rushed back up the stairs, pulling your shirt down to cover the blades as you went.

“Lass,” John grabbed your arm, and you stopped in your tracks. “Have you seen me glass anywhere?”

“No,” you said quickly. “Where’s Jim?”

“I ‘aven’t seen ‘im this mornin’,” the cook frowned, then shrugged. “Maybe I left it down below.” He set off towards the storage, and, seeing nothing better to do, you followed. You glanced around for a second at the top of the stairs, then turned back and walked straight into John’s back.

“Shit,” you cursed, rubbing your face and stumbling backwards. “Can you—”

“Jimbo,” John said in surprise, and you poked your head around his large figure. Jim was indeed standing on the step below you, a mixture of shock, fear and anger flitting across his face.

“What are you…?” you started, but John shushed you.

“Playing games, are we?” he asked softly, descending into the storage area, forcing Jim before him.

“Yeah,” the boy muttered, “yeah we’re playing games.” He glared at John, then at you. Oh shit.

“Ah, I see.” The cook must have come to the same conclusion as you. “Well I was never much good at games.” Behind his back, his cybernetic arm was clicking into the gun function, and he was using his other hand to flick the safety off. “Always hated to lose.”

You moved your hand to your hip, slipping your fingers under your shirt until they came into contact with the cool handle of a knife. It was a small one, but it would do in a pinch. You just hoped it didn’t come to that.

“Hm,” Jim grunted, “me too!” He rushed forwards, slashing at John’s cybernetic leg on the way past. He shoved you out of the way, but you grabbed his arm.

“Stop, Jim!” you shouted over the hissing of John’s leg and the cyborg’s shouts. “Let me explain!”

“Let me go!” he growled, elbowing you in the ribs and tearing free. You cursed violently, then glanced back at John. He seemed to be ok, so you rushed after Jim. Only you couldn’t see where he’d gone.

“Where is he?” you hissed, taking out a knife and holding it by your side.

“Captain’s quarters,” John panted, nodding to where you could just see the bolt mechanism sliding into place. You raced towards the door, slamming against it as John let out a piercing whistle, alerting the crew to make their move.

“Jim open up!” you yelled, jamming the pointed end of your knife into the door latch and jimmying it around. There was no answer, but you kept shouting and knocking anyway. A gunshot went off inside, then there was the sound of breaking glass.

“Someone help me get the door!” you yelled over your shoulder, then stood back. Several members of the crew pointed their guns at the bolt, letting loose laser beams.

“No need to take all day about it!” John shouted, pushing his way to the front and fitting a blaster to the end of his robotic arm. He raised it, powered it up, then blasted straight through the door. You hoped nobody was inside.

You ran through the smoke and debris, almost falling into a human-sized hole in the floor. You jumped down, racing through the mechanics of the ship towards the longboat bay.

“Follow her!” you heard John yell behind you, then more heavy footfalls and shouts as the crew obeyed.

In front of you, you could see Captain Amelia’s back as she sprinted along a corridor, darting through a doorway. You cursed as she slammed it shut, skidding to a stop.

“Blast the door!” you yelled, then grabbed a gun for yourself and aimed it at the lock. It fizzed brightly in the dimness, joined by the beams from the others’ own guns as you worked away at the door. It finally fell away, and you poured through into the longboat bay.

The hatch was open, and three figures were silhouetted against the bright light outside, all with guns.

“Morph, no!” Jim’s voice yelled, then someone – presumably Jim – leapt over the side of the longboat and onto the catwalk.

You jumped across the other walkways, sprinting towards him among the sounds of blaster fire, Captain Amelia’s choice insults and the yells of the crew. There was a huge bang, and you looked up to see that someone had shot out one of the generators above. It crashed down, taking some of the crew with it out the hatch and smashing through walkways.

The hatch was closing slowly, so you guessed someone must have found the switch for it. You jumped across another walkway, then ran along it to where another one intersects. A few more jumps and you would be on the same one as Jim.

“Morph, come here!” he was shouting, jumping around and trying to catch the little creature. If you could make the jump to the longboat next to him… You measure the distance with your eyes, biting your lip. It was a long way, but you thought you could make it.

Taking a deep breath, you took a few steps backwards, then ran forwards and leaped off the walkway, sailing through the air for a few seconds before you slammed into the side of the longboat. You grabbed onto the railing, hauling yourself into it and rolling across the decking.

“Morphy, come here!” John called, and you poked your head up to see the little creature floating between the two of them, a large golden sphere in his mouth. The map.

“Morph, bring it here!” Jim called, holding out his hands.

“Morphy!” John countered, whistling to him.

The two of them continued calling to Morph, obviously confusing the poor thing. He looked between them, then dove into a pile of rope. Both rushed towards it, but John’s leg was still broken and Jim was much lighter on his feet. He grabbed the sphere, turning and rushing back along the walkway to where you were still in the boat.

You felt the knife in your hand, its weight and balance as you raised it up, taking aim at the running figure. You drew back to throw, swinging the blade between your fingers, judging the angles and Jim’s running speed, where he’s going. At the last second, you released the knife, holding your breath as it spun end over end towards Jim. It hit right where you meant it to, when you meant it to, stabbing through his sleeve and into the wood of the ship’s side.

He turned, shock and hurt written clear as day on his face as he pulled the knife free, tossing it to the deck. You took a step backwards, your hands pressed over your mouth and your breath coming in short gasps. You held Jim’s gaze across the walkway, feeling like you might be sick.

“Now!” Amelia yelled, and the awful moment was shattered. Jim turned away, jumping down into the other longboat as Dr Doppler and the Captain shot out the cables on the roof, their boat falling out into the space below.

You heard John get up and you heard his string of curses as he headed for the main deck, and you heard the whining of a laser cannon firing up, you heard the crackling of the shot speeding past. You saw the explosion down below, but you didn’t feel anything. Well, apart from the urge to vomit.

The look on Jim’s face when you threw the knife, when it hit him… You dropped to your knees, your arms and torso resting on the railing of the longboat and leaned over, retching. You kept heaving until all of last night’s dinner and that morning’s breakfast were deposited out of the ship, then collapsed.

Chapter Six

#treasure planet #treasure planet fanfic #self insert #self insert fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #jim hawkins #jim hawkins x reader #jim kawkins x yn #work in progress #multi chapter #some angst #angst #fem!reader #reader insert #fluff #disney #disney movies #teenage romance #slowburn if you squint #slow burn #orphan #slavery (mentioned) #happy ending #angst with comfort #angst with a happy ending #angst with fluff #moral ambiguity #space #space pirates

[jedi-hawkins]

THE BAD BATCH S3 Ep8 REACTION & WATCH THOUGHTS

Spoilers (duh)

“He’s right” they’re being brothers again I sob.

PHEE

Crosshair’s unamused deadpan face at “liberator of ancient wonders”

She mentioned Tech with little else WTF???

Crosshair “Who?” Baby boy you missed a lot 😂😭

“Both of you” it’s giving momma Echo’s “keep them in line” from last week

Hunter cares so much “see if you can get him to get his hand looked at” he knows Cross will pay attention to Omega more. (This accidentally got spoiled for me but it was my fault oops)

FENNEC

She’s so hot and smart. She and Hunter set my bi panic off so badly

I’m still surprised Rex didn’t know anything about M-count since we’ve seen him around so many Jedi

“No. You’ll be working for me.” Ugh she’s so

AHH Crosshair is getting checked!! That wasn’t to difficult

Oope nevermind.

“Helmets on boys.” Ugh the way she bosses them around

Welp I guess we know why we were ROBBED of wet rat Hunter yet again. Disney I'm begging you

“Tracker” and “Whatever your name is” I’m dead

“You are” Hunter’s sigh, please 😂😭

Wrecker being a voice of reason again. I LOVE HIM. Glad the writers are showing how smart he is.

Ah! More sniper training!

Did omega get a new jacket?

“How?” Ugh the older sister younger brother bonding😭😭💕

“You don’t like anything.” Their bond omg she’s exactly what Crosshair needs to heal

Batcher being a beautiful wonderful service hound (do lurca hounds have fur?)

Ngl Fennec’s “wanna speed it up” reminded me of Cid. Wonder what that freak is up to 🧐

Hunter getting grabbed by the pack and tossed around by the gator I’m crying

Fennec helping Hunter into the boat 🫠

Is Hunter dual wielding DC-17s? Since when?? Ugh hubby gets hotter

SASSY WRECKER!!

Jesus Hunter motioning to cut the engine with a blaster in hand did something to me

Hunter being choked. I know they’re fighting but 🫠 me too girl

Damn homeboy tossed Wrecker how fucking strong is this guy

WRECKER WRECKER WRECKER

bro what species is this guy took like 4 stun blasts to drop him

OMEGA IS LEADING CROSSHAIR IN A MEDITATION?? Omg this is amazing

The way she’s so gentle moving his hand 🥹

“You’ve been to kashyyk?” Ah true little brother in wonder of his older sister

Also just love the cut between poor Hunter and Wrecker getting tossed around in a swamp to Omega and Crosshair peacefully meditating😂

Ah! He’s actually doing it!!

Fennec’s costume design is gorgeous. I love the detail on it!!

Who TF you talking to ya bitch?

Afterthoughts:

The way that Omega and Crosshair were so casual and the way that Azi was talking makes it sound like Crosshair has been seeing him/trying to fix his hand for longer than Hunter knows which is so sweet that Cross is trusting Omega with it but also heartbreaking...

#TBBspoilers #tbb s3 spoilers #tbb season 3 spoilers #tbb season three spoilers #the bad batch s3 spoilers #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #the bad batch season three spoilers #bad batch s3 spoilers #bad batch season 3 spoilers #bad batch season three spoilers #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #bad batch spoilers #tbb season 3 #tbb season three #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch season three #bad batch season 3 #bad batch season three

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 65: Birthday Beets

SATURDAY - WINTER 20

With his new role, Alex didn’t need to work on the weekends anymore. But, as Achilles often said, there was no rest for the weary, and this little nugget must have rubbed off a bit on Alex, as he’d taken to spending his Saturday mornings training in the mountainside spa. 

Achilles had joined him halfway through his workout, favorite pen in hand per usual. He’d parked himself on one of the surrounding wooden benches (not nearly as comfortable as the ones at Orange Grove, unfortunately), legs crossed at the knee as he hunched away from the spa’s chipped neon tiles. 

It was a longer workout than usual, to Achilles’ mild annoyance (the pages of his notebook kept curling in the humidity). But he said nothing, merely munched on some pistachio nuts he’d snuck in (not that there had been anyone in the lobby to stop him) while listening to Alex flutter kick his way up and down the pool. 

“All nervous energy, I think I might’ve broken a personal record,” Alex said, after finally calling it in at noon. With a grunt, he clambered out of the water one handed, the other ripping off his swim cap to reveal a messy cascade of brown curls. “Not even vi—vicarious? Vicarious. It’s all just me. Was that right?” 

“Very good!” Achilles threw him a pistachio that bounced off his forehead. “Whoops.” 

Alex bent down to retrieve the tiny nut, eyeing it closely before tossing it in to a nearby trash can. “Man, I couldn’t even eat a pistachio if I tried, haven’t got an appetite… welp. It is what it is, let’s go… four and half hours ’til they’re back…” 

They made their way towards the locker rooms just in time to see Lewis, in bright purple swim trunks trimmed with gold, and Marnie laying towels down by the hot tub. At the very first sight of that grey walrus mustache, Achilles immediately dove to behind a trio of pale blue tables, instinctively yanking Alex down with him.  

But it seemed like Lewis had a similar idea, though it was Marnie alone he unceremoniously shoved behind a potted plant before stepping forward, twirling the aforementioned mustache.“Achilles! Alexander! Good seeing you youngsters taking advantage of one of our community’s many little ‘hidden paradises’ as I like to say.” Lewis doffed an invisible cap (he must’ve left it behind in the locked room). 

“Yes sir!” It was Alex who, after smacking Achilles who’d only groaned in response, stood to great the mayor. “It’s great having a pool in the Valley, now. Marnie, hope you’re doing well.” He gave her one of his warm smiles as she tip-toed out from behind the fern. 

Taking advantage of Lewis’ momentary distraction (too busy shooting Marnie a wicked glare), Achilles promptly popped up like a groundhog from behind the table with the confidence of one who hadn’t just attempted to run from the premises. “Lewis, Marnie, good to see you both! The spa really is wonderful, and it looks like we had similar ideas—glad to see the weather hasn’t been keeping you both from enjoying some valuable, quality time together.” He seamlessly dodged Alex’s kick without breaking his grin. 

“Ah… yes, yes…” Lewis’ browed furrowed as he digested Achilles’ words. “Well, we don’t want to keep ya from your plans… Alex, give your grandmother my regards, please. Tell her happy birthday from me. Been here all her life you know, 84 years! A true pillar of our community!” 

“Yes sir!” 

With tight-lipped smiles, the two continued on their way to the locker room. 

“Man, why do you hate Mayor Lewis so much, he’s not that bad.” 

“That mustache just activates my fight or flight. And just you wait until he hears you’re swimming competitively again, you’ll be his new target… new ‘star of the community,’ he’ll never leave you alone…” 

*****

“Four hours to go… Okay, now don’t be too mean to him, okay?” Alex said, tossing his goggles into the tangerine gym bag at his feet. 

“Yes, of course.” 

“Hmm.” He leaned against the lockers and crossed his arms. “Well, I mean, I guess you can be a little mean…”

“Okay.” 

“Oh, but he is 86 years old…”

“Yes, for sure.” 

Alex poked his head out from the sweatshirt he was still wrangling on. “I guess, just don’t… bad cop it up too much?” 

“Yessir.” 

“I just need him to like, be open to chatting with me after that.” 

“You got it.” 

*****

George had taken Evelyn out to the Zuzu Botanical Garden to see the special holiday lights and decorations, leaving Alex and Achilles alone to prepare her early birthday dinner (“It’s early because they’re old.” “Thanks for the explanation, Al.”) 

Alex had prepared tonight’s menu—beet salad with arugula and leek, roasted Cornish hens with stuffing, mushroom bourguignon and mashed potatoes, and of course, a triple chocolate cake. 

All, to Achilles’ overwhelming distress, to be homemade. 

“Look, but I’ve thought this out, be proud of me. See, all you have to do right now,” Alex had said, a tiny little hen in one hand, a paper towel in the other, and flecks of cranberry sauce on his face, “Is cut those thingies.” He waved the game hen at the pile of produce Achilles had just washed. “I believe in you.” 

Achilles examined a leek closely before setting it back down on the cutting board. “Glad one of us does…” He ran his (clean) finger along the edge of the knife he’d grabbed from the drawer.

Alex was, not unexpectedly, painfully neat in the kitchen (to the disappointment of Dusty, who’d been hoping for scraps), but even so, Achilles thought it best to keep out of his way, and attempted to move his overflowing basket of produce to the kitchen table. 

“You put that knife down, Achilles Oleander Desrosiers Robinson, don’t you go carrying five thousand things at once, you’re gonna hurt yourself—or worse, Dusty—”

Atop the dining table, next to a small stack of wrapped gifts, was a bouquet of freshly cut tulips for which Alex had had to place a special order. In addition to a new vase, Achilles had purchased for Evelyn a nice set of bakeware, whereas Alex had thoughtfully put together a gardening gift basket, complete with new gloves, her favorite flower seeds, and more. 

“2pm,” Alex said, eyes darting towards the clock on the oven as they had been every ten minutes for the past hour. “We’ve got another three hours before they’re back…” 

Unlike Alex, Achilles had been feeling quite calm about the situation, cutting his beets with a steady hand (maybe that was the real reason Alex had had him cutting vegetables instead of over-spicing the Cornish hens). It was, perhaps, a bit strange, given he was treading in somewhat unfamiliar waters having never had to have a similar conversation with his family. But he told himself not to overthink it—in typical fashion, he’d prepped quite a bit the night before after Alex left—and instead attempted to spread his placidity by telling Alex a “fun” story from his childhood. 

As the hours ticked away, though, and the prepping transitioned to actual cooking, Alex’s nerves slowly seemed to settle. Balancing four dishes was surely quite a distraction, and by the end of the third hour, Alex was resting across two kitchen chairs with his head in Achilles’ lap breathing easy. 

That is, until they heard voices at the doorstep.

A look of terror streaked across Alex’s face, and he froze. But in the second just before the front door opened, Achilles squeezed his arm and leaned over to kiss him softly on the nose; and with Achilles’ hand on his shoulder, Alex scrambled up from the dining table and greeted his grandparents with convincing enthusiasm. 

*****

Dinner was, as Achilles had predicted, a somewhat awkward affair, although not nearly quite as awkward as it could’ve been, thanks to George’s determination to remain absolutely silent. The old man had seemed to be all smiles and laughter before entering the house, but his lips had formed a squat little line the moment he’d caught sight of Achilles. 

That left Achilles, Alex, and Evelyn to carry the conversation among themselves, and outside of Alex’s oddly loud voice—his nerves breaking through or overcompensating for his grandparents’ hearing?—it was, all things considered, an ordinary birthday dinner. 

Alex and Achilles had just finished clearing the table, the former’s hand now trembling as he carried the dishes back to the sink, when they saw George beginning to make his way to the living room. Achilles quickly called after him. 

“Hey, George—I’d like to speak with you.”

The old man gave a start, likely surprised Achilles was speaking directly to him, before grunting, “I have nothing to say to you, young man.” 

“Oh no worries, that’s fine. It’s actually me who’s got something to say to you, I don’t need you to say anything back.” 

That got his attention. With a scowl, George turned himself around. “You can set aside the cheek, boy. I knew your father, Perry was a good man. Didn’t he raise you to respect your elders?” 

 “Ah, no, you see, my dad actually raised me to respect only the people I thought deserved it.” 

It was a sassy response and he knew it—from the corner of his eye, he caught Alex’s grimace. 

Best not push your luck. He told you not to be too much of an asshole, Achilles…  

Achilles returned to the dining table and took a seat, just as Alex and Evelyn (whom Alex had forewarned) made their way noiselessly to the living room. As they had planned it, Alex would join the conversation later—but for now, it was up to Achilles. 

George didn’t seem to notice their retreat. Likely torn between a spiteful unwillingness to back down and his distaste for Achilles, George paused in the entryway for several seconds before ultimately deciding to stand his ground and return to the dining table. 

Achilles chose to take this as a somewhat promising sign, until George, glaring at him from across the stained wood grain, said, “Fighting my grandson’s battles for him, eh?”

But he responded smoothly. “I don’t see why it has to be a battle, George. But consider me the overture and your grandson Act 1 of a… a one act play. Hmm. I apologize, this metaphor is getting away from me.” 

George only grunted. 

Unsurprising. The joke had been a poor attempt to break the tension—of course, he was only remembering now that George was not a theatre goer. 

“I asked you to stay away from my grandson.” 

“That wouldn’t have changed anything, George.” 

“He doesn’t know what he likes, and I’m afraid to say your presence has influenced him and made him think—”

“He hasn’t changed, George. He’s the same person you’ve always known and loved, his sexuality has always been a part of him—”

“It’s not normal.” 

Achilles sighed. What he wouldn’t give for an ounce of Alex’s patience… but he succeeded in keeping his tone as light and easy-going as possible. “I suppose one could argue it’s not… the norm, per se. But it’s normal.” 

“Says who?” the old man shot back. 

Yoba, George— He had to bite back his scoff. Time to put your research to use… He’d made sure to have done his homework on the off chance George was the type to respond to a solid statistic. 

“Well, who’s saying it’s abnormal? In fact, a recent study conducted by the Ferngill Psychiatric Association has found significant evidence that homosexuality is a normal variant of human sexual orientation. Not to mention, same-sex marriage is legal in the Ferngill Republic, George, and nearly 82% of all Ferngillians support and believe that—” 

“Your father—Perry. He knows about your… preference?” 

“It’s not a preference, George, this isn’t a choice that I actively make every morning when I wake up, just as I’m sure you don’t wake up every morning and choose to be straight. And yes—both of my parents are aware and have always respected me and loved me for who I am. It’s their unwavering support that’s allowed me to share my life with them fully and honestly.” 

George said nothing, and so he plowed forward. 

“I understand that it must’ve come as a surprise, and that you likely need some time to adjust. Really. I understand. And so does Alex. But you’re refusing to even acknowledge his existence, George—frankly, I could describe it a number of ways, but all I’ll say is that it’s demoralizing and wrong for Alex to be treated like he straight up doesn’t exist in his own home. A home he’s almost single-handedly supporting, mind you. 

“So all I’m asking here is that you listen to him. Listen to him and give him even just half of the respect that he has always been so generous in giving to you.”

He paused, and found himself looking upwards at the ceiling now.  

“Alex is—he’s just so selfless, isn’t he? And kind. And good. And he’s sacrificed so much and— and he loves you so much, and it really hurts—” He stopped to swallow, to catch his breath. Fuck, bitch, don’t you start crying. “It really hurts that you’re willing to set aside everything he’s done and everything he is as a person because of this singular part of who he’s always been.” 

He wasn’t sure at what point Alex had reentered the room, how much he had overheard, but when he looked up, there he was.  Standing in the doorway, hands folded across his chest, biting his bottom lip. 

They shared a glance for half a heartbeat, and Achilles thought perhaps he really would cry. But instead, he forced himself to look away and stood. “Well. I’ll leave you two to it. Thank you for listening, George.” 

He brushed Alex’s hand on the way out the door. 

*****

After taking a moment to himself in the bathroom to make sure his eyes were dry, he joined Evelyn across the hall in the living room. She seemed intent on her knitting, but looked up when he entered, a kind smile on her face. 

The Mullner household didn’t have a couch, but Alex must’ve pulled up the armchair earlier, and  Evelyn now patted the cushion with her free hand, motioning for him to take a seat. 

“I’m sorry dear, I wish I could do more for the both of you, but I’m afraid I just don’t know what more to say to George.” 

He sat, and found himself suddenly exhausted. “I understand.”  

She sighed, her knitting needles clacking as she brought the scarf closer to her face. “I told Alex I think he needs more time. At 86 years old, it can be a little hard to change your ways overnight, I’m sure you understand, dear.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“But I think this little talk you boys are having with him will be good. He told me you always know what to say… It’s been very tough for Alex, this past week, I can tell… I’m afraid George can sometimes be a little too tough on him, and he has always cared very, very much for his grandpa’s approval… I don’t know if he’s ever told you this, dear, but Alex’s father was not a very good man.” 

“Yes, I’ve heard.” 

“But I think you have been very good for Alex. I imagine he’s very happy with you… I’ve never seen him quite like this before with his girlfriends.” She set her knitting down in her lap. “He deserves to be happy. He’s a good boy.” 

“Yes ma’am, he is.” 

*****

Achilles wasn’t staying the night—that would really be pushing his luck. But after a sustained stretch of silence suggested the conversation in the kitchen had reached its end, he snuck a glance over to the hallway only to see Alex covertly motioning for him to join him for perhaps a debrief in his bedroom. And so he bid Evelyn a final happy birthday and farewell. 

He arrived in the doorway to find Alex sitting on his bed, a comically small, but seemingly well-loved, stuffed stegosaurus in his lap. On previous occasions, Achilles had paid it only a cursory notice—it had sat on the windowsill with the rest of the few stuffed animals and action figures from Alex’s childhood—but he recognized it now from Spirit’s Eve, from Alex’s memory. What had it witnessed over the years? What comforts had it had to provide? 

He shut the door softly behind him. “How’d it go?” 

Like Evelyn earlier, Alex patted the space next to him. “Honestly? I don’t know. I think I blacked out.” 

“Fair enough.” Achilles took the offered seat. After a beat, he lay a tentative hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I’m very proud of you.” 

Alex lay his head onto Achilles’ shoulder and closed his eyes. “It did make me feel braver, watching you talk to him first. I’d thought as much…” 

Achilles nodded into Alex’s hair and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. But in a burst of frustration, Alex sat back upright and began beating his forehead with the heel of his hands. “God, I can’t even talk to my own grandpa without help… ain’t that just pathetic…”

“No, it’s not pathetic— Al, hey— Al—”  Alex had begun to visibly shake, his head buried in his hands, and Achilles could make out the sudden sound of stifled sniffs.

“This should’ve been my own problem to fix, shouldn’t it’ve, I’m an idiot—”

Achilles wrapped his arms tightly around him, held him close as Alex had done for him so many nights ago on Spirit’s Eve. “Alex, listen to me. No. It’s not pathetic. And you’re not an idiot.”

He weaved his fingers through Alex’s, clutched them so hard they hurt. And when the trembling had died down, he raised Alex’s lightly tear-stained face gently to his own. 

“There no shame in asking for help, Al,” he murmured. “Isn’t that what you taught me? I’m here for you. I get to be here for you. There’s no reason to go about it alone if you don’t want to.” 

#llnks #sdv fanfic #sdv alex #sdv oc #farmer x alex #stardew fanfic

[jadekitty777]

Heartsick: Chapter 1

Me, several weeks ago: Okay so IronCharms week doesn’t start until the last week of August, I’ve got time

Me, today, five minutes before midnight: Let’s just double check the dates- WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE 15TH?!

WELP I’m a little late on this but... surprise! I wrote a James/Qrow/Clover fic! I’ve been wanting to do this one for a loooong while, and a random spark of inspiration had me finally dedicating some serious time to it. 

This story is completely and utterly dedicated to  Pidgeon Postal (who I’d tag but, tumblr won’t let me). It is a loving sequel to their story Heartless - which if you haven’t read, go do so! It’s well, kind of required anyways, as this story won’t make much sense if you haven’t read it.

I’ve honestly wanted to write this sequel ever since I first read Heartless well over a year ago - and am glad for the opportunity to finally do so! So welcome... to another multi-chapter story that will be posted throughout the entire week! Bonus? This one is actually complete LOL

(And if you haven’t already, go give Pidgeon some love for all their fantastic stories!)

Day 1: Affection

Dedicated to: PidgeonPostal

Rating: T

Words: 1.4K

Summary: It's been five months since James recovered his true heart, Clover gained a metal one and Qrow's became more attuned to the woods than ever before. Five months since Tyrian's poison was eradicated from the soil. Five months... since Clover, Qrow and James agreed on a group partnership (and that was honestly the best part). Like the tree tops reaching for the sky, it seemed like there was nowhere for the three of them to go but up. So why, then, did Clover feel like he was being cut down at his roots? [Witch AU]

Ao3 Link: In Which Clover’s Day Begins

~

Mornings were a ritual. Like magic, but softer, touched warm by the morning light.

Clover was always awake first; a surprise, at first, as James had always been the earliest riser. But reintroduction to his heart and, perhaps, the calm that came from living in a stress-free environment had changed the old general’s habits in ways that he didn’t entirely dislike.

So up he was, tapping his hands along the enchanted pantry as he asked confidently for ingredients. One after the other the counter got lined with whatever concoction he’d decided upon for breakfast (a fact that even after five months still made Qrow jealous with the ease he’d do it). He knew he had the power to ask it for precisely what he wanted, ready-made and serviceable to eat, but he’d always had a thing for cooking from scratch.

It's the only way it can be made with love, he’d tease sometimes between dropped kisses on his lovers’ cheeks. Qrow groused over the grandstanding, but rarely hid smiles, while James was simple in politeness but vocally appreciative.

Clover enjoyed those moments enough to keep doing it. The only days he cheated were on mornings that he didn’t spring out of bed but drag himself out. Where nights of half-remembered nightmares kept him tossing and sweat-soaked. Things that twisted at him, like blood on his hands that never left no matter how much he cleaned; the bodies of Mantle’s lost haunting after him as much as James’ dull and lifeless eyes looking upon it without so much as a twitch did.

Those were bad days.

But today was a good one.

So, he got to work.

By the time James got up, the cranberry-orange muffins had almost finished baking and coffee was done brewing.

“Morning!” Clover greeted, already pouring him a cup. Black with two sugars, just like he liked.

James accepted it and the peck on the lips with a sleepy smile. “Good morning. You certainly are… perky.”

He snorted. That sounded more like something Qrow would say. “Aren’t I usually?”

Always, he wished he could say. Because that had been the norm. But despite all the luck in the world, his new, metallic heart came with side effects. Inconsistencies with his emotions that felt very much like a floating spell had been placed onto them, and the wielder was tossing him between highs and lows at random.

(Sometimes, he thought the nightmares were part of that change. But no, he’d dug that grave with his bare hands. It was only right he’d lie in it.)

“I just don’t know where you get the energy.” James replied, blowing along the top of the steaming mug. When he did, the branches of the trees imprinted along the face of it shivered, like they’d been touched by a breeze.

They spent the morning like that, Clover cooking as he chattered with James about nothing, really. Small talk about plans for the day or how the garden was coming along. It was so unlike before, when they and the other officials would be up before the sun, plotting strategy and the room would be tense with an under-currant of fear as they fought a war they were losing fast.

Different, in a good way that Clover embraced as hard as he could.

When breakfast was just about done, Clover tapped the head of the miniature blackbird perched on the edge of the cuckoo clock. It came alive, flying on wooden wings out of the kitchen and down the hall – and though neither of them could hear it when it sang, they certainly heard Qrow’s grumbling as he came trudging out of the bedroom only minutes later, the bird perched on his shoulder. It flew back to the clock while the lanky man sat down at his spot.

Clover made sure to have his coffee already waiting. A shot of cream turned the liquid to a sandy cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon left a speckling of golden-brown dusting the top. When Qrow rose it to drink, the snow blanketing over the picturesque little cottage town fell to the rim, turning the once winter-laden village into a bright summer’s day. The snowfall dropped back into place when he set the cup back down.

“Mornin’,” Qrow finally greeted, the natural gravel in his voice always a bit deeper after waking.

James took up the attention of their sleepy third while Clover plated the food. Toast lightly buttered, only his powdered with a bit of sugar. Sausages that still sizzled with a bit of extra pepper atop James’ and eggs made over easy for him and James but scrambled for Qrow. A muffin for each of them. The daffodils on the edges of each plate danced on their stems as he set them down.

Left only long enough to pour his own drink. He pulled down another mug from the cabinet, his favorite today. The minute he touched it, the stark white mug turned into a brilliant teal green, the color of his own magic reflecting back at him. Even when he let it go to grab the pot, the hue stayed; if he let it be for ten minutes, it would start to go through lighter and lighter iterations of green before it turned back to white. He filled the cup with what his lovers considered an egregious amount of cream and sugar and took his seat.

In the short span of time, Qrow had pushed his own chair closer to James, using the lack of distance as an excuse to snuggle against him. It was cute and filled Clover with a sense of affection.

But, like oil on water, it was sullied by a strange sense of envy and loneliness.

He blamed it on his dumb, fake heart and took a gulp of too-sweet coffee to drown it out.

Qrow huffed at the sight. Complained, with no heat behind it, “Thought I told you not to use that one.”

Clover winked. “You can punish me for it later.”

Qrow almost choked on his eggs.

Despite the teasing, he knew how important the bit of ceramic was. Had learned it well the first time he pulled it down and the other man almost had an aneurysm over it. Apparently, it had been a gift from an old friend Qrow’d lost two decades before. Though she was gone, the magic she’d constructed the mug with lived on. The last reminder he would ever have of her.

It was probably only because of Clover’s own magic, a touch of luck in most things he did, that Qrow even allowed him to use it at all.

After a moment, James pitched in, “I swear you’re insatiable.”

“For you two? Never.” Clover promised, spearing a sausage, mimicking a motion towards his lips that even had James a little flustered.

The morning passed much the same as any other.

~

Though it was weeks into autumn, the weather had remained unusually hot and humid. Clover didn’t favor it, used to the dry air of a frozen tundra that didn’t cling to him like the mugginess in the forest air did, sticking sweat to his skin like a second layer, unwanted and uncomfortable.

The long baths he took in the basement hot springs more than made up for it though.

He’d tried, without success, to pull James in with him, but the other thought it silly to do so when he would only dirty himself again once he went back to his garden.  Qrow he may have won over, but the other mage probably was only just getting back from his journey he’d set out on after breakfast – some hurt he’d detected in the forest that needed mending. His attunement with the forest had been increased ever since he’d chased out Tyrian from the soil and roots.

Normally, Clover had the patience to wait for one of them; certainly, a bath was more fun that way. But today, the humidity was higher than normal. It probably meant a storm was coming soon. With the heaviness feeling particularly unpleasant to the point it was beginning to irritate, it didn’t take much mental prodding to get him down to the basement for a little dip and relaxation.

By the time he emerged a good hour later, he was feeling refreshed, a towel around his waist. He used another to toss his hair – it was getting long, he’d had to trim it soon – as he headed towards the kitchen, intent on scourging up a snack.

As he crept down the hall, something small and low to the ground passed by, its movements squeaking like rusted bolts with every step it took.

He gave it a glance as he passed it.

The dragon, constructed out of roller chains and other scrap metal in the likeness to the God of Light, looked back.

Clover’s mouth dropped open. “What the-?”

The dragon, small as it was, emitted a thundering roar.

Then it pounced.

#clover ebi #james ironwood #qrow branwen #luckyironqrowweek2022 #IronCharms #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

[luminnara]

She Loves Me, She Loves My Knot | Pro Hero Alpha!Bakugou x Omega!Reader (nsfw, 18+)

hii!! i don’t see many people who write ABO for MHA so I’m glad i found you!!

Can we have a scenario where Bakugou’s omega is generally really tough and seems rather indifferent to everything — however she’s a little afraid of taking Katsuki’s knot for the first time and he tries his best to help her through that process? Sorry if it’s a little obscure but I love the idea of Bakugou being soft and caring but only for his spicy little omega.

Fem reader if you can but if you’d rather opt for gender neutral that’s fine too!! Please keep writing ABO, i love all your things! 🥺🤍

Um hi YES, I really love ABO stuff and I also wanted to see more, so I was like...welp, I guess it’s my time to rise and write my OWN haha! I went with a fem reader for this one, because I feel like that’s what I’m best at writing. If you want a gender neutral version too, let me know and I can post an alternate one!

send in a request here!

Warnings: nsfw, knotting, creampies, some breeding kink

Word count: 2,124

You were a spitfire, and that’s what he loved about you the most. His spicy, fiery little omega, who was better than every other omega to ever walk the earth. From the moment he met you, when he had nearly trampled you in the street in pursuit of an asshole villain and you had threatened to kick in the teeth of the number 4 pro hero, he knew you were something special. Nobody ever stood up to him like that, especially not when he was out on the job, but you? A little omega who smelled so sweet and looked so delicious? You weren’t afraid of him at all. 

He wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he had scented you immediately, his inner alpha getting possessive already. Bakugou didn’t smell any other alphas on you, and he didn’t want to. With his strong, terrifying scent clinging to you, he knew nobody else would try to make any moves, and as you stood there glaring at him, he had given you a smirk, told you to “call my agency sometime, babe,” and then taken off.

Of course, you didn’t call his agency. 

You showed up in person, marching right in and demanding to see him that very evening. Though at first you had seemed angry with him, you quickly told him (with a harsh glare and a snarl that he found absolutely adorable) that he was going to court you, and it was going to start now.

And who was he to deny such a straightforward, cute omega? The two of you were together by the end of the week. 

He almost found it hard to believe that you were an omega sometimes. You were so tough, so unbothered by the world. Whenever you were out and about and you caught an alpha leering at you, you were always quicker than Katsuki when it came to snapping at them to fuck off.

You weren’t the kind of omega who let anybody shove you around, and Bakugou loved that about you. It made him puff his chest up with pride, knowing that he had someone who wouldn’t take any shit. Your scent was strong and your will was even stronger, and he knew that when the time came, you would be the perfect, toughest, best mother to his pups.

You weren’t even mated yet, and he was absolutely sure that you were the one he wanted to spend his life with. You brought out something different in him, some kind of gentle, caring side that he never, ever let anyone else see. You were big and bad, yeah, but he was bigger and badder, and he was always going to protect you, no matter what.

“Babe, I’m home,” he called one night, trudging into your shared apartment. You had moved in together quickly, getting a place in one of the nicest parts of the city.

He heard you coming before he saw you, and before he even had his boots off, you were launching yourself at him. He caught you easily, grinning at the way you peppered his neck and jaw in kisses. It was probably the cutest, least tough thing you ever did, and god, did he love it.

“Miss me or Somethin’?” He teased, kicking his shoes off and carrying you to the bedroom.

“I had the day off and it was boring as shit,” you said bluntly. “I’ve been horny all day without you around to help...”

He paused, taking a whiff. “You’re not in heat. You just like me that much, omega?”

“Don’t be a dick.” You nipped at his jaw sharply and he recoiled.

Some alphas would never let their omega treat them like that, but Bakugou? Oh, he loved it.

He grinned, tossing you down onto the bed before you had a chance to take a chunk out of his face. “So needy...bet you spent all day touchin’ yourself, thinkin’ of me...”

“No I did not,” you huffed indignantly, looking up at him. “You think too highly of yourself.”

He laughed. Your arousal was hanging heavy in the air, betraying your words. The smell of it was like a drug, and as he inhaled, you could see Bakugou’s pupils dilate.

The sight turned you on even more, warmth pooling between your legs as your cheeks flushed. Scarlet eyes, calculating and predatory, pinned you down, holding you in place as your boyfriend grinned, exposing his big alpha fangs.

Fuck, he was hot.

“Sounds like you need to be reminded why I’m your alpha, baby.” He growled, crawling over you.

"Fuck, Katsuki,” you whined as he attacked your neck, biting at your scent glands and grinning at the way you squirmed.

He sucked your skin between his teeth, working at it, determined to leave covered in hickeys for the world to see. You didn’t have a mating mark yet, but oh, did he love making sure that everybody knew exactly whose omega you were.

You bit your lip at the dull pain, back arching up off the bed slightly. “K-Katsuki...”

“Hmm?” He looked up at you. “Look at you, so pretty and flustered for me already...what a good little omega...”

He knew exactly how to tease you. You spent all day sassing Katsuki, showing him how independent you were, but deep down, he knew you needed him just as much as he needed you. In the bedroom, he could make you absolutely melt with only a few words, and it was one of his favorite things to do.

“I can smell how much you want me,” he purred. “So desperate, so needy...”

His fingers slipped up under your shirt, pushing your clothing out of the way as his hands found your tits. He gave them a generous squeeze, grinning when you let out a loud gasp. He could play you like a fiddle, and he reveled in the sweet noises you made for him.

Your hands reached for him, tugging at his pants. He took the hint and stepped back, giving you a heated look that said “clothes off. Now.”

A few moments later, you were both naked, a tangled mess of sweaty limbs. Katsuki’s arms were wrapped around you, holding you close, your nails digging into his back. If he noticed the pain, he didn’t act like it, always allowing you to practically shred him to bits while he pounded into you. Secretly, he loved the marks you left, admiring his back in the mirror whenever he thought you weren’t watching.

You felt the head of his cock nudging at your pussy and moaned eagerly, burying your face in his neck.

“What do you want, baby?” He asked.

“Come on,” you whined.

“Tell me what you want,” he grinned, holding himself still.

“Katsuki!” You bucked your hips, trying to get closer to him.

He held you down. “Use your words.”

You dug your heels into his lower back in an effort to push him in, but he was too strong, resisting your attempts with a smug look on his face.

“I want your cock!” You finally relented, letting out a needy whine that you hoped would sway him.

“Good girl,” he growled, rolling his hips forward.

You shuddered at the feeling of him entering you. No matter how many times he fucked you, you would never be able to get over how big he was. It was part of the reason you hadn’t taken his knot yet, always asking him to pull out before it could swell. As he bottomed out inside of you, you were reminded of just how thick his cock was, and how much thicker that knot had to be.

As tantalizing as it was, it was also terrifying.

“Fuck,” he grunted, holding himself above you with a hand on either side of your head. “God damn, you feel so good...I’m not gonna last long at this rate, fuck...”

You were like putty in his hands when he talked like that. His voice was already so deep and rough, but his sex voice was godlike. You whimpered beneath him, tightening your legs around his waist as he pounded into you, clinging to him for dear life as his thrusts grew harder and harder.

“Katsuki,” you gasped, voice muffled by his neck.

“You like that?” He growled, slamming into you hard enough to scoot you up the bed slightly.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Yes, yes, please...more...”

He moved his head, tongue swiping up the side of your neck before he took your lips in a kiss. You whined and moaned into it, your skin heating up as you felt yourself unraveling, and when you finally did, you were seeing stars. He barely even had to try, and Bakugou gave you the best orgasms of your life.

Your walls squeezed around him as he rode it out, trying to milk his cock. It was good, it was delicious, it was too much for him to stand.

“L-let me knot you,” he moaned low in your ear.

You were coming down from your high, head feeling fuzzy. “Hm?”

“I wanna knot you,” he repeated, more impatient this time. “Please.”

You were beginning to snap back to attention again. “Katsuki...”

“What’s wrong?” He panted, trying to taunt you like usual. “You scared or somethin’?”

When you bit your lip, he slowed his pace, looking at you seriously.

“Really?” He asked.

You nodded hesitantly, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“You’re afraid of my knot? ...why?”

“You’re just...really big...” you mumbled, looking away to avoid his eyes. “It’ll hurt...”

“Hey,” he said gently, rocking his hips against yours slowly now. “Look at me, babe.”

He took your chin in his hand, turning your head.

“I’m your alpha.” He said roughly. “And I’m gonna take care of you.”

The look in his eyes made your heart flutter. “But...”

“I wanna knot you.” He said again, dipping down to nip at your earlobe. “I wanna fill you up...”

A shiver flew up your spine, that familiar tingle returning to your groin. Fuck, just his voice could make you cum, practically...and honestly, you were aching for him to knot you. You wanted to feel full, to be as close to him as possible.

“Be gentle?” You asked.

“Of course, baby.” He kissed your jaw, his hand slipping down to hold the side of your neck as he quickened his pace again. After only a few moments, he growled, leaning back and pulling out, leaving you feeling painfully empty. “Roll over.”

You obeyed, turning onto your stomach. When you moved too slowly, Katsuki pulled you up by your hips until you were on your hands and knees, ass presented for him.

“Gorgeous,” he growled appreciatively, guiding his cock back into you and moaning when he sank in even deeper.

You moaned loudly, burying your face in the pillows as he began pounding into you again. Your thighs were already quivering, and when you felt his fingers rubbing at your clit, you immediately lost it.

“Fuck!” You cried out, clawing at the bed. “More, please, Katsuki—“

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he moaned, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he pushed into you hard.

You felt his hips stutter before he held you against him in his vice grip, breaths ragged in your ear as he let out the loudest, most delicious, breathy moan you had ever heard. He pumped his seed into you, giving a few sharp thrusts as he emptied himself.

Then, you felt it.

“Easy, baby,” he said lazily, leaning against you as he tried to catch his breath.

His knot was swelling, stretching your pussy in a way you had never felt. You whimpered nervously, swallowing hard as you tried not to freak out. You were waiting for pain, but while it was beginning to feel impossibly tight, it...wasn’t terrible.

“That’s it,” your alpha crooned, smoothing a hand up your spine. “Fuck, you even take my knot so well...”

You started to relax as you calmed down, your body allowing his knot to grow to its full size. It was big, huge, even, but as Katsuki guided you to lay down on your side with him, you were beginning to feel smug. Yeah, you had the best alpha, and he had the best, biggest knot.

“How’s it feel?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Mm. Not bad.” You replied. The post sex haze was beginning to set in, and you were growing tired.

“Good girl.” He nuzzled against your scent glands, inhaling deeply. “Knew you could take it no problem.”

“I wasn’t even really worried.” You lied, trying to sound tough.

He snorted a laugh. “Yeah, right.”

You snuggled back against him. “I like it.”

“Yeah? Good. Because I am never going to stop knotting you now.”

#alpha!bakugou #alpha!bakugou x omega!reader #request #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader

[sweetcathedral]

Note: This is what Gojo would do to you if you ate his mochi. PS - Both of you owe it to Nanami

⚠️: 18+, some good fingering

“Fuck you,” you said, disappointed in yourself—angry at yourself for not feeling as pissed as you should be. Stop denying it.

“Yeah. Fuck me,” he softly chuckles before diving in for a deeper kiss.

Gojo’s sitting at the corner of the dark room lit only by the blazing fireplace, staring emptily into the flickering flames. His head rests against the chair almost like he was about to doze off,

“Oh, you're here?” he asked as if he didn’t know, but he did. He always knows.

“Liar, just ask where I was. You don’t have to ask like that,” you cut the bullshit.

He scoffs, shaking his head in his hand. You make your way towards your room, trying to avoid any conflict with him. Your day was shit to start with, and it definitely did not end how you’d wanted it to. The curse user you were tasked with slipped away, which made you get an earful from the higher ups and was passed to Nanami to take care of. Gojo most likely heard through the grapevine and was about to bully you about it, poking at your insecurities like the asshole he is.

“Hey, I’m not done talking to you yet,” he grabs your wrist.

“I know. I screwed up, don’t need to hear it from you,” yanking yourself out of his grip.

Just as you turn around, he grabs your face and hips from behind. “Gojo, please—!” he squeezes your face and you shake your head trying to loosen his grip, but he doesn’t budge. Your head snaps up, forcing you to look up at him, and you can see the serious expression dawn on his features. It’s as if he’s mad at you, but you haven’t done anything wrong. “What’s wrong with you?” you hissed at him, already pissed about his forceful approach.

“. . . I’ve never seen this side of you.”

“Funny cause this is how you always make me feel,” you continue to struggle your way out.

“Oh? Cute,” just as you placed all your strength to push his hand off your hip, he lets go, sending you to plummet to the floor.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Yikes, sorry, didn’t know you’d fall that hard,” he snickers from behind.

“. . . you could’ve just let me go to my room, asshole . . .” you hold yourself back cause letting Gojo see you cry from your stress would mean that he’d have gotten what he wanted.

After your shower, you slump yourself onto your unmade bed. The feeling of the cool sheets sets your mind at ease, giving you a sense of comfort, enough for you to knock out into a heavy sleep, until you hear a knock at your door. “Hey, I’m inviting myself in,” Gojo loudly whispers. Irritated, you let out a sigh, pressing your forearm to your head and resting above the bridge of your nose. Without an ounce of energy left in your body to kick him out, you decided to let it pass, turning your head towards the doorway.

“Sounds like someone’s been hanging around Nanami too much,” Gojo walked into the room with a cup of tea in his hand and a small plate of kikufuku mochi in the other.

“Gojo, please. I’m tired—,” he shuts you up with a kiss. You hadn’t noticed how close he got to you until you lifted your arm from your eyes. He was sitting at the edge of the bed now, while resting his head on your chest. The tea and mochi were dangerously settled on the other side of the bed, giving you a bit of anxiety with the way he just placed it there.

“Did I tease you too hard?”

“Tease? You call that a tease?”

A soft giggle fell from his lips. Is this his way of apologizing?

“Sorry, probably a weird way of seeing how your day went.”

“Definitely a weird way. You could’ve simply asked, you know,” you prop yourself up, but that only prompts him to wrap his arms around your waist.

“No. Stay this way, I like it . . .”

“But the tea and mochi.”

“I’ll finish it later.”

“What?”

“What?”

The two of you look at each other.

“Pft! Did you think it was for you? How embarrassing,” Gojo laughs.

Angry and annoyed, you eat his mochi and finish his tea in one gulp.

“You little shit,” he stares at you in disbelief. “That was supposed to be my after sex snack.”

“Welp, looks like you’re not having sex,” you shrug, finally having a laugh.

“So you think that was funny, huh?” suddenly, he pulls you towards him by your leg.

“Ah, hey—!” your arms were pinned over your head, his soft lips placed upon yours.

“You’re not going anywhere until I’m satisfied,” he breathes at the nape of your neck before tracing up the curve with the tip of his tongue. Lost in the heavy feeling of pent up frustration from your workload and stress, you let yourself melt into his touch. Too tired to fight back, your mind wanders wherever his fingers traced; the curve of your arched back, the slope of your legs, the soft curve of your breasts. The tension of your muscles loosen up, not knowing that they were tense in the first place. Fuck you.

“Haven’t seen you like this in awhile. This look suits you better,” he said, parting your lips with his tongue in soft familiar motions.

“Fuck you,” you said, disappointed in yourself—angry at yourself for not feeling as pissed as you should be. Stop denying it.

“Yeah. Fuck me,” he softly chuckles before diving in for a deeper kiss.

Gojo envelopes you in his arms, closing the space between you two. He hitches one of your knees to your chest, firmly pressing at the back of your thigh as he drags his fingers down to your already soaking panties. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. One. He slowly pushes through your walls, letting your pulsating motion suck him in deeper. Two. Another finger slips in with ease, your juices drip down onto the bed sheets, slowly gliding up and down your cunt as he thumbs over your swollen clit. Your chest starts to rise and fall in ragged breaths, exhaling soft moans. And three. The third finger takes you by surprise, enlarging your full cunt, your juices pooling into his palms. You clutch the pillows and messy sheets around you, panting rapidly at the movement of his fingers stirring inside of you. Each twist milking out the stress from your body, stimulating the sensation for more.

Before you knew it, a final wave of pleasure washes of your body causing your legs to spasm. You don’t remember the last time you had an orgasm, but you were glad Gojo was the one to give you that satisfaction.

“Look at you,” he pulls his fingers out, spreading them apart to reveal the sticky mess you made, webs of clear film connecting from finger to finger and dripping down his wrist. Your leg slowly goes limp as your body subsides, the weight of your eyelids feeling too heavy to keep open. Gojo’s voice starts to fade like smoke dispersing in the air, blending into the background noises of night traffic and the rhythm of your breathing.

“Thanks for your help Nanami! I owe you,” Gojo blows empty kisses through the phone.

“You could’ve just asked her to take a day off, like normal boyfriends do,” Nanami sighs from the other side.

“She doesn’t get paid for days off, so the only way was to get you to get her to fuck up the mission and then give it to you. She still gets paid while coming home early to me. Win-win!”

“Sounds more like a lose-lose to me.”

“You’re so gloomy. You looking for a girlfriend too?”

“No. I’d rather avoid such luxuries.”

“Oh Nanami, this is why you’re losing hair.”

“. . . I’m hanging up.”

“Gah! Wai—,” but it was too late, Nanami had already hung up before Gojo could’ve asked him for praises.

He tosses his phone to the side of the bed and turns back to cradling you in his arms as he twiddles with your hair, brushing through your scalp. You were sound asleep, only your legs tucked under the blanket, so that it wouldn’t be too hot when Gojo started cuddling you afterwards.

Turns out he had made sure your mission didn’t go as planned. He missed having you to himself, but he also understands the importance of your finances, so he conducted an elaborate plan for you to still get paid while also coming home early. It wasn’t a win-win for you, it was a win-win for him. He knew that, but he also knew how to make it up to you.

Gojo tilts your head slightly towards him, placing light kisses on your forehead, nose and lastly your lips, the sweet taste of mochi still lingering like a red wine stain. A tempting taste for his sweet tooth, but he restrains himself from taking it any further, happy enough that you’re right next to him. He pulls you closer to him as he rests his forehead to yours and closes his eyes. “How cute, you still taste like my mochi.”

#will be posting a master list/collection before I take my break #won’t be too long #i just need time to expand my vocabulary #minors dni #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #jjk smut #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk gojo #jjk gojou #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru #gojo smut #gojou smut #gojo satoru fic #gojo satoru smut #gojo x you #gojo x reader

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Moment In Time

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.

Warnings: Might be some mild language.

Chapter 2

* * * * * * *

“Oh no one is judging you ya big doofus.” You trail a finger along the shiny metal surface, looking at your tinted and distorted reflection.“ Just think it’s a little unnecessary.” Looking up at Tony, you smile.

His brown eyes roll, a hand grabbing onto the roof of the sports car to assist in pulling himself out.“ There’s nothing unnecessary about having options.”

A snort of a laugh falls from your lips as you walk to the next car.“ Yeah sure. If that’s what you want to call this.” 

“Half of these aren’t even mine.” He defends himself, hanging the keys up along with the other sets.

Pursing your lips you point to the car you’re in front of,“ who does this belong to then?” 

“Natasha.” He answers, taking far too much delight in the way your challengingly cocky attitude drops.

So you decided to hang out for a while, see a couple floors and let Tony explain some things to you as he liked to do, then head home. But you’d found a reason to stick around. Or, better put, Tony found reasons for you to stick around. 

You’d go to a floor, take in the sights, the tech, and listen to the man ramble on about the functionality of the floor. Around floor five you were ready to head out but Tony claimed you couldn’t see the medical floor and not go to the labs. And you couldn’t see the labs without seeing his workshop. 

This reasoning went on and on until you found yourself in the garage. The sun had set a few hours ago, lights automatically flicked on inside the tower and the seemingly day to day sounds of the tower went away. 

It’s quiet now, save for you and Tony talking and him occasionally starting up the cars.

You can’t lie and say you don’t enjoy hanging out with Tony. You’d always enjoyed your time with him, his actions and ideas unpredictable and so genius from the moment he learned to talk. But you also can’t lie and say you weren’t getting tired. A low, dull, rumbling started in your stomach not too long ago from the lack of food since this morning.

Making a bit of a show of looking at the last car, a sleep silver Audi that you know belongs to Tony, you check out the interior and make comments on the exterior. Then over exaggeratedly, you yawn and stretch your arms out. 

“Alright T. It’s gettin late. Think it’s about time I head home.” You tell him, walking over and gently dropping your hand onto his shoulder. 

He chuckles softly,“ Y/n, what kind of friend would I be if I let you go all the way back to Brooklyn while you’re tired and clearly hungry?” He pats your hand on his shoulder,“ you know Maria didn’t raise me that way.” 

It takes every ounce of willpower to not toss him somewhere so you could leave. But you know it’s been some time since you and Tony actually hung out and while he definitely has some ulterior motive to this, his persistence gave it away, you oblige him. Your reasoning is that you know the food will be good. 

What you aren’t expecting, however, is to find the entirety of the Avengers sitting around the living room on the main floor. Unlike the other floors that were quiet, a low chatter fills the space and a clanking of cutlery to ceramic plates. 

With Tony’s arm around your shoulders, you’re guided to the tables lined with food that looks delicious. Tony obviously has some private chefs around here. 

“Um, am I crashing some type of party or bonding time?” You ask him as he starts to pile food onto his plate.

“No,” he smacks his lips and waves you off,“ not really. We just eat together. Cap says it strengthens the team and all and I pay for the food so everyone comes. I’m sure they’ll be glad to have you.” With an almost devilish smile, he puts a bread roll on his plate and turns away. 

Your narrowed eyes follow his retreating form. Sighing and shaking your head, you grab a plate, put a little of everything on it, then head over to the unoccupied bar. 

Before you sit down to eat, you grab one of Tony’s expensive bottles of liquor off the top shelf. Pouring yourself a glass, you walk around the bar, catching the eyes of a couple members of the team before you sit down. 

As you eat and drink, the laughter and banter of the team behind you erasing the silence of the room, you can’t help but remember the numerous times you’d had the privilege of being around your friends like that.

* * * * Flashback * * * * 

With a friendly smile you push your chair out and stand up, walking over to the kitchen doorway. Reaching forward you grab the glass dish from the woman’s hands.

“Careful it’s-”

You nod and smile,“ I know. I’m fine.” 

Marie’s eyes squint at you and she nods in understanding as she remembers. Patting your arm she turns back to the kitchen right before Jarvis comes out and follows you to the table. 

Whispering a quiet ‘excuse me’ to Ana, you reach around her to place the dish on the table, then refind your seat across from her. The second your butt touches the seat two sets of eyes are on you. 

“Y/n please tell this buffoon how ludicrous his invention sounds.” The angelically accented voice of your close friends says. You swear you can feel her gaze burning into your temple. 

You look over at her, opening your mouth to speak when Howard cuts in. 

“No Y/nn, tell Margaret that this is genius. It’s revolutionary!” He exclaims and your eyes widen a little. 

Face morphing into an expression of offense, Peggy turns to look at Howard and they start bickering again. 

Smiling amusedly, you lean back into the chair, making eye contact with Jarvis’ wife An from across the table.

Both of you shake your heads, An chuckling softly just before Jarvis comes to sit beside her. 

“Howard,” the man looks up at the stern but sweet tone of his wife.“ That’s enough honey.” She gives a smile that matches the sweetness of her tone. 

The Brit beside you snickers and you lightly smack the side of her leg with the bag of your hand, muttering a quiet,“ relax.” Which results in her huffing and crossing her arms, sending a glare at Howard that she fixes just as Marie sits down across from her. 

Despite having been bickering since long before now, the Agent and Philanthropist waste no time in playing nice over dinner. Alongside them, Marie, An, Jarvis, and yourself have one of many very entertaining dinners. Laughs exchanged between all of you. 

* * * * Flashback End * * * * 

You’re yanked from the memory when a heavy weight lands on your shoulder. 

Tensing up, you prepare yourself to fight whoever it is but you quickly remember that you’re in the Avengers tower with earth’s mightiest heroes. The chances of this being an attack are slim.

Still slightly tense, you look over your shoulder at the owner of the hand on your body. To find America’s golden boy looking down at you. 

“Everything alright?” He asks, seemingly concerned. . 

You give him a small smile and chuckle softly,“ all good Captain.” You give a playfully mocking salute and he sighs instantly afterwards.

Walking around the bar, he leans on top of it with his fingers laced in front of him.“ Listen I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did on the jet earlier.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You take a bite of your food, staying silent until you swallow, then sipping your drink.“ We’re good. I know my unexpected bombing was, well, unexpected.” He chuckles lightly at your words and shakes his head. 

When he reaches up  to almost nervously rub the back of his neck, you know he isn’t completely sure that everything is good.

“Have a drink with me Cap.” You tell him, nodding to the shelf of alcohol behind him. 

Looking from you to the drinks, he nods.“ You can call me Steve.” He tells you, putting some ice in his glass then pouring his drink. 

“Well Steve,” you raise your glass to him and he gently taps his against yours.“ Feel free to call me Y/n.” You tell him, sipping your drink.

He smiles softly at you, your invitation seemingly having done the job of calming his nerves slightly. Light conversation flows between the two of you, a back and forth of questions that answers don’t hold much consequence but still shed some light on the types of people yourself and Steve are. 

By the time the sun has disappeared beyond the horizon and the sky is littered with stars and the lights of every skyscraper you and Steve are well through one of Tony’s more expensive bottles of liquor. Loud laughs sound from the two of you as you joke with one another. 

While the alcohol doesn’t affect either of your systems as it would someone else, the other occupants of the living space would assume you were drunk.

It intrigued more than a few of them how loose and easy going Steve is. It wasn’t as if he never had fun with them or drank, but there seemed to be something about you that brought an even lighter aura to the older man.

“It was incredible. I’m telling you,” you shake your head with a small smile of excitement.“ I wasn’t inclined to be excited about it since I was there to see the Yankees kick ass, but the Dodgers played exceptionally well.”

Steve has a small smirk on his face, nodding approvingly as he sips his drink.“ Well I can’t say I’m surprised.” 

Once again you laugh, finishing your drink and leaning off of the bar top.“ Ever proud, Mister America.” You say teasingly, bringing yet another laugh from the tall blonde. 

He finishes off his drink and you take a deep breath and release it.“ Welp Cap,” pushing up out of your chair, you smile at him,“ it was a pleasure chatting with you. Ever want to talk about the good ole days-”

“I’ll give you a ring.” He holds his hand out to you and you shake it firmly.

As you take up the glasses and your plate you nod a goodbye to Steve and go your separate ways, you to the kitchen and Steve to the elevators. 

Setting the dishes in the sink, you turn the water on and lean against the counter as you wait for it to get hot. Just before your mind can begin to wander you catch sight of movement in your peripherals. 

A smirk almost instantly pulls onto your face at the sight of the red head walking in. Her green eyes are already trained on you with a look in them that you can’t describe. 

“Agent Romanoff,” you nod to her, smirk still in place. 

She takes small purposeful steps closer, stopping a few feet away from you,“ you lied to us. Member of SHIELD for a while?” She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head with an overly sweet smirk,“ you founded SHIELD.”

You hiss in a breath of air through your teeth, turning to face away from her as you chuckle.“ I didn’t lie, actually. Withholding all of the truth is a different thing.” Drying the plates off, you set them on the rack to dry, the forks and cups following afterwards.“ And let’s make something very clear, I am not a founder of SHIELD.” You dry your hands and turn to her.

“Really? Cause SHIELD records say otherwise” She reasons, stepping closer. 

Eyebrows raising at her further approach, you do the same. You smile softly at her and close the distance between you two, leaving just under a foot of space.“ I understand you aren’t happy with the redacted details of my history Agent Romanoff so let me clear it up for you.”

Natasha tilts her head at your words and listens intently as you continue.“ I didn’t found SHIELD. I was the first ever agent. Agent Carter and Howard Stark saved me and administered me an enhanced version of the same serum Steve took. I owed them my life and I made sure to protect them,” you falter at that, jaw clenching as a horrible memory flashes through your mind.

“That’s how you met Tony?” She asks. It wasn’t missed by Natasha. The ex-assassin could read anyone. The second she noticed the distant look in your eyes she knew something was wrong and while she was curious, something told her not to ask about that. 

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and look at her.“ Was in the hospital the night he was born. Watched him grow up.” You smile fondly,“ he’s family.”

For a moment it’s quiet. Still you watch Natasha, unsure if she’s finished or not. Just when you think she’s done, you nod and head towards the door, only to stop when she speaks. 

“Why did you come for us?”

Turning from the door, you look over your shoulder at her,“ I owed Nick a favor.”

Her eyes narrow at you and you give a small nod before leaving out. 

Neither you or Natasha would’ve guessed that would be your last conversation for the span of the next week. While you were at the tower a few times, to drop off something you’d talked about with Steve or pick up Tony before the two of you went and hung out somewhere, you hadn’t gone inside. 

She wouldn’t admit it to you but Natasha had started to wonder when you’d come back. Not only does your reputation precede itself, something about your personality intrigues her more than she’d ever been before. She wanted to see you again, talk to you again. 

Green eyes look through the clear blue glass, brows slightly pinched together at the sight of you and Tony hugging. Natasha debated with herself whether or not she was going to go speak to you as Steve jogged out of the front doors and over to you, sharing a handshake and a hug. 

The last thing the ex-assassin expects to feel is the little flutter in her stomach when you smile brightly. 

She tears her gaze away from you, frown deeper than before. Her thoughts running a mile a minute. 

When a weight drops onto her shoulder she almost flinches. Grabbing the hand on her, she twists it and forces the person to stand in front of her, slamming them into the window. 

“Well damn.” You curse, using your hand on the window to push yourself off the window. A chuckle falls from your lips as Natasha let’s you go.“ Guess it wasn’t a good idea to approach a trained agent without speaking.” You say jokingly, green eyes snapping down to the smile on your lips and back up.

There’s an incredibly short pause from Natasha before she channels her usually straight expression.“ What’d you want Y/Ln?”

“How bout a smile Romanoff.” When a beat passes without her expression changing you sigh.“ I want a cup of coffee. And I want you to come get one with me.”

“Come again?” Her expression cracks slightly as her eyebrows raise slightly. 

You tilt your head and smile softly at her.“ You were practically shooting lasers at me through the window. Figured either you wanted to get out of the tower or you were jealous Tony and Steve were taking up all my time.” A teasing tone wraps around all your words and Natasha instantly scoffs. 

“I have no reason to be jealous of Stark or Rogers.” She says and you nod.

“I figured as much. Which means you want to get out of the tower.” You nod for her to follow you.“ Cup of coffee does everyone some good.” 

Natasha watches the confident stride you make towards the door, not once looking back as you just know she’s going to follow. And she does, despite her pride telling her not to.

The coffee shop isn’t too far away from the tower so you walk. Unlike your walks with Steve, it’s silent. The redhead stays two steps behind you, not saying a word as she follows. 

A burst of cool air rushes past the two of you with your first step into the coffee shop to the sound of the bell jingling above you. Smiling softly at the familiar building you walk further in.

Natasha takes into account that there are no more than ten customers inside. For a New York coffee shop it was incredibly quiet and quaint. 

“Love it here,” she hears you mumble as you step up to the counter.“ Hi, can I get one medium black coffee and a large iced coffee with two creams and two sugars.” The woman rings you up and you pay. Pocketing your wallet as you turn to face Natasha. 

You smile at her lack of emotion. There is no reason for you to be as grumpy and blank as she is.“ I’ve been to a lot of places but here, they have the best coffee.” You tell her. 

Her head tilts slightly and you purse your lips and nod. Once again it’s silent as you wait, then you grab the coffees when your name is called, turning to hand the black coffee to Natasha. 

With things going the way they are, you have an internal battle on staying here or just going back to the tower. Taking one last chance, you nod to an empty table and sit down. Natasha coming over and sitting as well.

“Look, Natasha, you can’t hate me so much that we can’t even have a coffee together.” Your tone of voice is one of confusion and slight sadness. 

Frowning once again at the emotions in your voice, Natasha watches you. Green, calculating eyes and a blank expression are the only signs of how hard she’s thinking right now. 

With a huff of a sigh she says,“ I don’t hate you.” She admits, face finally giving way to emotion.“ I- I barely know you.”

“Well maybe we should change that.” Holding up your cup of coffee you take a sip and tell her,“ I think if you give me a chance, I might not be as bad as you think.”

Her eyes narrow and for the first time ever, you see her crack the smallest of smiles.“ We’ll see about that.”

* * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @yumusak-yastik

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #moment in time #reader insert

[farshores]

Welp here we are, like I said - a lot of folks already hit the mark on responses to this so there will be a bit of repeat. Also bear with me here, I’m tired so forgive anything that sounds snappy or smart-ass lol

Now let’s dive into this shall we? As y’all know, Kai v3 dropped & it was...mixed reviews to say the least, p sure you can easily find some back n forth opinions on the dialogue. But in the end not the main focus of the issues people have had. That honor falls to the response to members of the community over a suggestion & the fact that one of the devs, Ayalet, endorsing homophobic material. I’ll be focusing on these & starting off with the former.

So, for those who have saw the initial post, you’d know that it was me getting upset & concerned over the behavior of certain devs regarding to a member of the discord asking for options to opt-out of the more sexual additions - be it claiming that all romantic mod content was going to be removed then & it was the fault of the members asking for the option, mockingly stating they will just make Kaidan a monk, or going “well you didn’t pay for X so therefore any input/critique isn’t important”

I would hope that I don’t have to explain why these responses in particular are not mature or right in the slightest, especially for something where the community is the one reaching out to support you. And it is no better to refuse even attempt to reflect on these actions or refuse apologize to the ones you lashed out on just because you happen to be friends with the VA or main dev.

“But Farshores! There was someone else mocking others too!”

Then hold them accountable as well? Saw this mentioned/sent to me a couple of times, doesn’t change the fact that either one’s behavior is unacceptable.

“But you aren’t in the discord!”

You’re right! I’m not! But there were people hurt who were, who didn’t feel comfortable trying to fully confront this themselves - so I will be that voice for them. Hell, the fact people were telling me they were glad someone was pointing this out shows me what harm has been done already.

And as things turned out, there was homophobia tossed into the mix as well. Like I said, I addressed it in another post - both should be under “disk horse” on this blog - with Ayalet endorsing the homophobic mods that appeared last month & friending known bigot Lykan. Again, not something I should need to spell out on why this is concerning. The big claim against this is that I was/had someone stalking for new info, but in reality, I was told this by 3 different folks they had discovered this during the whole January debacle. This wasn’t recently discovered this month.

And I can hear you now “but why didn’t they come forward with this earlier then?” For one: *gestures to the whole response* & two, folks were willing to give benefit of the doubt. Which happens, you see someone who does work you enjoy fuck up like this, it’s natural to try & go “well, maybe it was something else/maybe it was a joke.” But recent behavior is having us think otherwise.

“But it was private, why search through it!”

Lol no it wasn’t, both the mods and the comments/endorsements on it were 100% public for the time they were up on Nexus. And, rightfully so I might add, folks are going to look & see who endorses/encourages this sort of behavior in order to block mods/mod authors & overall curate their spaces. And, again, no this is not some quirky little opinion you & your buddies can disagree on like you would over types of drinks or food. & it sure as hell isn’t something that can be looked over or pushed aside just cus the person in question claims to have gay friends, or interacted with work from lgbt+ creators, or hell - looked a queer person right in the fucking eyes. It doesn’t suddenly change the fact that this person 100% okay with viewing someone as lesser just because they don’t identify as straight.

The whole “but they’re nice to me!” thing is bullshit as well. Bigots will to try & act ‘nice’ so they can cry that they’re being oh so civil when someone points out “Hey! This is fucked up actually!” because y’all are so wound up on the fact of being nice & palatable for the sake of “no dwama uwu”

Leading a fox into a hen house, bring a wolf to a sheep convention & you’ll only have wolves, etc., etc.. All this does is tell the people you claim to care about that you’d rather be nice & invite harmful people + ideologies in than put your foot down on intolerance. Do I believe people can change? Absolutely, but they have to be willing to, they have to realize that accountability needs to be taken, & need to understand that no, no one has to be nice or okay with this behavior. Bigotry is bigotry, I shouldn’t have to hold your hand & coddle you for you to understand that.

And look, I get it, a lot of work went into this - a lot of money too. & I think I can speak for everyone hurt by this by saying we acknowledge this & appreciate it. But this doesn’t mean suddenly criticism is off limits, it doesn’t work like that - folks wanting accountability from the people who harmed them isn’t some inside job or hateful plot all out to get you, it’s wanting better & wanting to see the team improve. To see the response be the way it is...is disappointing to say the least - but I do hold out the hope some reflection is taken.

All-in-all, if this is the preferred doubled-down, then the most I can say at this point is: You do you. You’re an adult who can make their own choices & I’m not going to use any more of my time trying to talk to those who don’t want to listen. The info is out there and folks can form their opinion on it if they so choose.

#disk horse #sorry for any typos or anything i am sleepy af lol #en-ee-ways

[theratsareinspace]

Cigar Smoke and Metal-Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Check out the Masterlist for the complete fic!

Chapter 20

You and Karl had a rather odd sleeping routine. You didn’t cuddle, per se, but you were always touching. His arm might be across your stomach, or maybe your head was resting on his shoulder. Karl’s favorite thing to do was what you affectionately called ‘the starfish’, that is, spreading his limbs out as far as they would go, taking up the entire bed in the process.. He often splayed his limbs across your body as he did this.

One morning, your phone alarm went off. You tried to turn it off, but you found that you were pinned underneath Karl’s forearm.

“MMMMMMPH, turn it ooooofffffff” He groaned, stretching out.

“I can’t. You have me trapped, Karl.”

“I ain’t moving, bumblebee.”

“Well, the alarm will keep going until you do.” You grumbled.

“You’re certainly a ray of sunshine this morning. Did you not sleep well?” He asked as he moved his arm.

In truth, you hadn’t slept well. Today was the day that you were going to propose to Karl. You’d been tossing and turning all night, worrying about what he’d say.

“I slept fine.” You mumbled as you turned off your phone alarm, ignoring the message about the proposal.

Karl had already begun to snore again.

You couldn’t help but smile at his sheer adorableness as you got out of bed. “Karl, Donna will have breakfast ready by now.”

“Mmmm, but bed is so comfyyyyyy…” He whined.

Honestly, he could be a toddler sometimes.

“Fine, you can stay… I guess I’ll be eating breakfast alllll alooooone…” You teased, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“Fine, I’m up, I’m up. Gimme a minute.” He rolled out of bed and slipped on a shirt.

You took his hand and headed downstairs; Donna was waiting with a nice stack of pancakes for both of you.

“Good moooooorniiiiiiiiing, sleepyheads!!!” Angie screeched.

“Good morning, Angie.” You returned the greeting. A new fear suddenly struck you-- everything Donna knew, Angie knew, and Angie was notorious for giving away secrets.

Karl sat at his usual place at the table, eating his pancakes with his usual fervor.

You only poked at yours, your anxiety was preparing to consume you whole.

Karl noticed this. “yoo ‘kay, bublebee?” He asked, his mouth full of food.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m good, I’m good.”

Angie cast you a knowing glance.

Don’t you dare.

She giggled and began to run circles around the table.

“… what is she doing?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

“She’s already had her java monster this morning. I’m just glad she isn’t exerting her energy through destruction.” Donna remarked.

Heisenberg agreed.

You ate in silence for the rest of the meal.

“Welp!” Karl stood up abruptly. “Been a lovely breakfast, but I gotta go work on Wagen. She won’t fix herself up!” Karl sauntered away, heading down to his workshop.

“… did he name that old car he bought Wagen? As in, the German word for car?” Donna asked, tilting her head.

“Yes. He did.” You sighed.

“SOOO!!! WHAT’S YOUR PLAN???” Angie screeched.

“Angie, quiet. He might still be able to hear.” Donna chided.

“I’m taking him to the meadow for a picnic, and after we’re done, I’ll… I’ll pop the question. I stayed up late making all his favorite foods.”

Donna smiled encouragingly at you. “Don’t be nervous. Even if he says no, he’s not going to leave you.”

“I know, I know… I’m still nervous, though.” You rubbed your arm as you looked at your feet.

The hours ticked by slowly, only deepening your anxiety.

Soon enough, you packed the picnic basket and headed down to Karl’s workshop.

Karl was deep into his work on Wagen; tools were everywhere and heavy metal music was blaring.

You weren’t quite sure what to do; after all, tapping him on the shoulder carried the risk of being impaled with a metal object. You decided the best course of action was to stand awkwardly in the corner until the song ended.

“Karl!” You called as the music faded.

“Huh?” His head popped out from behind the hood of Wagen.

“Are you at a stopping point? It’s nice out… thought we could go for a picnic!” The ring box suddenly felt heavy in your purse.

“Uh, yeah! Lemme clean up. You wait here.” He went into another room and emerged in a button-up and a pair of his old work pants. He had also adorned his old hat and sunglasses.

“Bringing back the old style, eh?” You asked with a laugh as you took his arm.

“You know it, baby. Lead the way.”

You brought him to a beautiful hill overlooking the nearby lake and spread out the blanket.

“Ooo, you made chicken alfredo…” he mumbled as he looked through the basket. “I like Donna’s cooking, but I sure missed yours.”

This brought a hint of color to your cheeks. “I didn’t know you liked my cooking so much.”

“It’s miles better than anything in that cursed village, that’s for sure.”

You hesitated for a moment. “You know, looking back, I’m kinda glad I stumbled into that village.”

“What? Why?” Karl asked, taking a bite of his chicken.

“Because I got to meet you. And Donna and Angie. Before I met you… I was lonely. I had a house and I had friends, but I didn’t have… I didn’t have anyone.” you hadn’t meant to get this sentimental this early into the meal, but something in you had burst and it was all coming out, like a giant waterfall of feelings. “I never thought I would end up here, in Italy, with the man… the man…” you trailed off.

“The man what?” He asked, his mouth full.

“The man I… um…” you froze up.

“Buttercup, is somethin’ wrong? You’re being weird.” Karl said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I… ugh… I…”

You know what? Now or never.

“Karl Heisenberg, you are without a doubt the strangest man I have ever met.” You began the speech you had practiced over and over in your head.

“Gee, thanks.” He responded with a laugh.

“And I… and I love you for it. You saved me. You changed my life. I… I owe you mine for that. And I want to… I want to give it to you.” You were freezing up as you reached for the ring box. “I want to be yours… officially. And I want you to be mine.” You got onto one knee, as you had seen people in movies do so many times.

“Karl Heisenberg, will you marry me?”

You opened the ring box to reveal a simple gold ring, designed for people who work with metal and oil.

The man looked absolutely stunned. You had never seen this expression on him. Was it shock? Disappointment? Anger? You didn’t know.

He hates it. He’s gonna say no. And he’s gonna leave you.

While you were descending into your spiral, he silently pulled a small box out of his pocket.

“You beat me to it, Bumblebee. I was gonna wait until tonight, but...” He opened the box to reveal a beautiful silver ring with a diamond at the center— not too ornate but not lacking in style.

“I… Karl—“ You didn’t know what to say.

“So… is that a yes?”

“Yes… Yes!!!” You leaned forward and kissed him.

He chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your waist. After a minute, he pulled away and slipped the ring onto your finger; you did the same for him.

“I love you, Karl. So much.” You said, tangling your fingers in Karl’s hair.

“And I love you, buttercup.” He replied, pulling you in for another kiss.

Taglist: @xyinparadise @baphometwolf666 @lost-mother@arlotg @lazuli-leenabride @goddessofwaifus

#karl heisenburg #resident evil viii #karl heisenberg #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg x reader #resident evil 8 village #resident evil #karlheisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg x female reader #resident evil fanfic

[dakotacrisis]

Topsy Turvy (2)

Welp, I guess I am expanding on this. I may have already been planning to write a part 2 but I wasn’t expecting to do it this quickly. While I am doing my own thing with the content initially inspired by the previous comic I did steal one of Plagg’s lines from their continuation comic cause it was too funny to be ignored.

So anyhoo! Here’s a part two!

---

“Geez, you would think Hawkmoth would give us one morning off,” Alya groaned. Marinette, Nino, and Alya had been heading towards the station to meet Adrien when that giant robot akuma came out of nowhere.

Now the girls returned to a worried looking Nino who embraced Alya happily. Marinette lingered a bit away from them looking pale and sweaty. Alya sighed and went back to comfort her. “Don’t worry, girl, I’m sure things with Adrien will work out.”

“Yeah...about that…”

The train slid into the station. The doors opened and people started flooding out. Marinette grabbed Alya’s arm and pulled her down to whisper in her ear. “I freaked out seeing Adrien while I was Ladybug and might have, sort of, asked him out to the movies.”

“As Ladybug?”

“Yeah.”

“What is wrong with you! That wasn’t the plan! You were going to do that only if he rejected you as Marinette!”

“I know but I didn’t want to get rejected so I jumped the gun. Do you think this will mess things up?”

“I don’t know! We don’t know what his reply is gonna be. What did he say after you asked him out?”

“Nothing. I left before he could answer.”

“I love you but I am going to kill you.” Alya pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Heads up,” Nino called for the girls’ attention, “I can see Adrien.”

“I’m gonna make a run for it.” Marinette took two steps before Alya pounced on her and forced her back.

“You dug this grave, now lie in it.” Alya grabbed her arm and pulled her down the platform towards Adrien.

Adrien was walking in a dazed state and his face was beet red. He almost walked completely past them before Nino hooked an arm around his shoulders. "Hey dude! It's great to have you back."

"Oh hi, Nino," Adrien snapped out of his daze, "You didn't have to come meet me."

"Sure we did," the three of them started walking back out of the station. Adrien clung close to Nino as he told them about his trip. His gaze kept flickering down to Marinette who walked in step with Alya. Nino would have found it funny if it wasn’t for the fact that Marinette looked like she wanted to melt into the ground.

After their initial phone call two weeks ago Adrien had been really quiet about the whole confession thing. He sent lots of pictures from his trip and talked to him but anything having to do with Marinette was nonexistent. He figured he was working through his feelings on his own. It may have been because Marinette was his friend or Alya’s aggressive shipping of the two but he hoped Adrien chose her. They really were made for each other.

The girls left early and Nino invited Adrien back to his place to hang out. "I'm glad you had fun on your trip. You must have had a lot on your mind regardless."

"A lot on my mind?"

"We were gonna have to talk about it at some point," Nino collapsed into a beanbag chair, "About Marinette?"

Adrien went rigid. "Ma-Marinette? What about Marinette?"

Nino looked at him deadpanned. "Dude, she confessed to you? Remember?"

"Yeah," Adrien sat down next to him, "I remember."

"So did you come to a decision while you were away?" Nino asked.

"Not really, I keep flip-flopping about it. I know being with Marinette would be the easier option and she's great. I would be lucky to call her my girlfriend."

"But?"

"I still really love Ladybug and after what happened today…"

"What happened today?"

Adrien recounted to Nino about the akuma and how Ladybug and Rena Rouge saved him. Then how Ladybug had asked him out to see a movie.

"HOLY CRAP!" Nino gaped, "Ladybug asked you out? Why didn’t you lead with that?"

"I guess because I was still processing it happened." Adrien leaned back so he was staring up at the ceiling, "It feels like I'm dreaming. I'm happy but it also confused me more."

"I wouldn't blame you for being confused. Having a friend confess to you and then your crush asking you out...it's a lot to think of."

"I feel like the answer should be obvious. But it doesn't feel that way anymore."

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Marinette said she wasn’t expecting an answer but I still owe her something. I don’t even know how serious Ladybug was with her invitation. She could have just been messing with me but I don’t really see casual flirting as something she would do.” Adrien pondered it some more. Nino could see the gears turning in his head.

“I’d like to see you and Marinette together but I can’t force you to be with her. If it turns out Ladybug is who you really want then that’s okay too. Marinette’s strong and for the most part it sounds like she just wanted to let you know she had feelings for you. You don’t have to feel guilty about either option. I hope you know that.”

“You’re so sagely. It’s throwing me off,” Adrien laughed, “Go back to saying dude and talking through a mouth full of hot cheetos please. But seriously though, thanks for talking with me about this. It helps.”

“I’m always here for you, brother,” Nino tossed him a controller, “Now let me whip your butt in Mario Kart.”

---

Adrien returned home after a few rounds of Mario Kart with Nino. He was already pushing things with his father by going off with his friends earlier instead of heading straight home. He received a cool welcome from his father when he walked inside the mansion before he was gone again. At least he had deigned to greet him when he got home. That’s more than what he expected out of him.

He climbed the stairs to his room. “Alright, you can come out now,” Adrien told Plagg.

“You couldn’t have snuck me some cheetos while you were hanging out with your friend?” Plagg whined, “I’m starving!”

“There were three full camembert tins as well as an emergency string cheese in my bag. How are you starving?”

“I ate those on the ride back to Paris. Now I’m hungry again!” Plagg crawled across Adrien’s bed, “I’m so weak, Adrien. I can hardly move. Everything around me is going dark. I can hear the angels singing.”

“You are a menace.” Adrien picked him up and tossed him into his cheese cabinet. “Happy?”

“I feel rejuvenated!” Plagg cackled as he dove head first into a new tin of camembert. Adrien rolled his eyes and closed the cabinet door.

He went to the window and looked out over the lights of the city. He couldn’t wait to be back running across that skyline. Two weeks without being Chat Noir had been torture. Ladybug assured him that she and Rena had things covered when he told her he was going away for a bit. Still, it didn’t stop him from feeling guilty about it.

Maybe he could tear Plagg away from his cheese hoard for a quick jaunt around town. Maybe he’d even see Ladybug.

Oh Ladybug. All this time he had been trying and failing to woo her as Chat Noir and then without any prompting she asked Adrien out. He still wasn’t sure if she was serious. How badly he hoped that she was though. He wanted it to be real. He wanted Ladybug to love him. Now it looked like he had a chance at that but there was only one snag. Marinette.

Sweet and wonderful Marinette. He already broke her heart as Chat Noir. Could he stand to do it again as Adrien? He really didn’t want to but neither did he want to leave her in suspense of an answer. He wished things could be simpler.

He thought back to what Plagg said on the train and scoffed. “Monogamy is a concept invented by humans.” he repeated it back to himself, “As much as I would love to be in the middle of a Ladybug/Marinette sandwich I don’t think that’s an option. I think I would combust at the mere possibility.”

He pressed his head to the cool window and sighed. His eyes fluttered close. He should just go to bed at this point. He would stay up all night worrying himself into knots about what to do at this rate. He opened his eyes once more and fell back with a startled yelp.

“Oops, sorry,” Ladybug waved at him upside down through the glass, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh no, no you’re fine.” Adrien shot to his feet, “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” she righted herself and perched on top of his open window, “I wanted to come by and talk to you. I realize I kind of gave you a shock today during the akuma attack. The whole asking you to go to a movie thing.”

“Right, yeah, I was certainly surprised.” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. Ladybug was in his room! Okay, she was sitting on his window but that was still in his room. “I gotta know, were you being serious or were you just fooling with me? I won’t be mad if you were but I just wanna know.”

“Yeah, about that,” he could swear he saw Ladybug blushing. Ladybug was blushing around him! “I did mean what I said. I think you’re a nice guy and I know that we haven’t ever interacted that much but I like you. I have no idea what you think of me but now you know what I think of you. So...thoughts?”

“I think you’re amazing.” Adrien answered without hesitation. His feet brought him closer to the window so he could better gaze up at her. Her head was silhouetted in moonlight casting a bright white halo around her dark hair. Her eyes sparkled like stars as she gazed stared back at him. Her lips slightly parted and her cheeks pink.

Adrien cleared his throat and spoke again. “I’ve actually had a crush on you for ages. I had trouble believing anything would come of it though.”

“Oh really?” Ladybug smirked, “Ages you say?”

Adrien’s mouth went dry. He nodded his head.

“Well if that ain’t a kick in the head,” she chuckled softly, “I’ve had a crush on you too.”

Wait. Hold up! Ladybug had a crush on him? He knew that she liked him but a crush? For how long? Adrien’s mind flashed back to when Ladybug told him she was in love with someone else. Was the someone else Adrien? Had he been getting rejected all this time because Ladybug was already in love with him?

“Adrien?” Ladybug waved a hand in front of his face, “Did I lose you? Was that too forward? I’m sorry if it was.”

“No! I’m just really happy!” Adrien blurted out. “I...I uh…if you still want I would like to go to that movie with you.”

Ladybug smiled. “Great. Are you free tomorrow?”

“I will be,” he would move the heavens themselves in order to be free if so needed.

“Awesome. They’re doing a classic movie night at the theater tomorrow. We could see the original La Belle et la Bete or Citizen Kane or Roman Holiday.”

“Aren’t they playing Psycho as well?”

“A horror movie?” Ladybug’s eyes widened. “I mean if that’s what you want to see...well um…”

“Wait,” Adrien said, “Are you--are you scared of horror movies?”

“Yeah, I know, big bad hero Ladybug gets scared watching horror movies. Laugh it up.” she shook her head.

“I wasn’t laughing. I wasn’t!” Adrien couldn’t help but smile though. He learned something new about her. “La Belle et la Bete sounds nice. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the original. I’ve only seen the Disney version and the live action remake they did back in 2014.”

 “Well then,” Ladybug twisted her yo-yo around in her hands. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow evening for our date.”

“Can’t wait.” Adrien was smiling like a fool. Ladybug gave him another wave goodbye before leaping off into the night. Adrien watched from the open window with a dreamy smile on his face. He had a date with Ladybug!

Then his heart sunk. He was gonna have to reject Marinette now. He hoped she wouldn’t take it too hard.

---

“I have a date with Adrien! I have a date with Adrien!” Marinette danced around her room. The kwamis were all out and celebrating with her. Alya sat on the chaise with a knowing smile. This wasn’t what Alya had planned but it looked like it worked out in the end. She had never seen Marinette so happy.

“Oh no,” Marinette stopped abruptly. “I have a date with Adrien!”

She ran to her closet and started pulling out clothes. “What am I gonna wear? It’s a movie date so it shouldn’t be anything too fancy but I don’t want to look like a slob. Should I wear something warm if the theatre is cold? But with all that body heat it’s bound to be warm so should I dress lighter? Alya, what do you think?”

“I think that you’re going as Ladybug so what you have on under your costume won’t make much of a difference.” Alya was trying not to laugh.

“Oh right,” Marinette threw her clothes back down, “Forgot about that part.”

“And you’re okay with dating Adrien as Ladybug? You don’t think that’s gonna cause any problems down the road? If you want this relationship to go anywhere in the future you’ll need to tell him who you are.”

“I know, but that isn’t for a good long while. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

The words of a fool in love. Alya decided to let her have her moment and not say anything. Tomorrow night would be interesting indeed.

---

(Previous) (Next)

#miraculous ladybug #post gang of secrets #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #plagg #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #topsy turvy #ladrien #for sure this time #writing

[tippytopdays]

Just a Typical Morning

literally slapped a fresh coat of paint on this little thing and did some proofreading, posting here because it's not really a story i feel like belongs on my Ao3

_____________________________________________________________

A snap. A small flare of light. A hiss. The light goes out with a brief spike of pain. The scent of nicotine filling his lungs, sitting there for a moment before being lazily huffed back out. He rolled the cig between his teeth, canines catching the paper.

For once, it was a slow day. Quiet too, if the silent city ruins said anything about it. No howling of some crazy Zed in the alleyways, no rushing of cars; nothing. Then again it’s probably something like, 6AM if he thought about it, since the sun wasn’t high enough yet to count as day.

Well as close to day as it could get, he assumed. It wasn’t like he knew anything else, anyways.

Deimos gripped the cig between his fingers, watching the flecks of tobacco sprinkle over the railing. The balcony was small, granted, but it was enough. Throw on a piece of metal or two along the railing and it even made for some quick cover if there was an attack. Overhead assault was harder to avoid, especially from so high up.

The end of the cigarette glowed dimly as he inhaled, smoke trailing into the air.

He didn’t like being up this early. It was too quiet.

Normally by now he would probably be going downstairs to fetch some grub from the cafeteria with Ford, talk about their evenings or whatever else would come up. Sometimes he’d be scrambling to get his gear on to check whatever combusted in the lower levels. Of course if it was the mercs just screwing around and breaking whatever had gotten mixed up with their roughhousing then he’d get upset. Fixing that shit isn’t easy you know, but it wasn’t worth straining his voice anyways; Ford could do that for him in spades.

He sighed in a soft plume of smoke. Really, what else can you do when the hired help has to be a bunch of knuckleheads, anyways?

Whatever it was, he definitely wasn’t throwing any parties for them that’s for sure. Last thing anyone needed was those guys keeping everyone up all night by being loud as fuck.

Another drag, a slight shake in his fingers as they met his lips.

His arms hurt like Hell from having to spend so long rewiring that at this point he was surprised they were even remotely steady at all. And when he thought about it him waking up at the ass end of dawn because the comms had crashed again was probably a good reason as to why he was up so early. Digging around in cramped crawl spaces was not how he wanted to spend his day; and being tossed into a late night mission on top of it was even lower on that list.

Damn his bed seemed real inviting, early morning or not.

When was the last time he’d slept in? Or just had a day off? Sure they’d had low days along with the high ones, but when did they get an actual break where they could relax? The last time there wasn’t some kind of emergency or chaos outside their doors was at least a decade ago at this point, maybe less. He didn’t really have it in him to care much, since he didn’t keep track of the days anymore. No point to it.

More smoke filled his lungs. He really should just get some extra shut eye, rest until he felt better.

But, for some reason, he couldn’t.

He’d snapped to awareness with a cold feeling of dread weighing down his stomach. It had been so strong he’d shot up, halfway reaching for the pistol at his bedside thinking someone was there. But there wasn’t. It was dead quiet, like the moments after a bad mission.

Maybe that’s why he was outside right now. The casual air helped to mask the intent in his eyes as he scanned the skyline.

A glint of reflected light from a nearby rooftop nearly made him crush the cig in his hands as he tensed. Eyes snapping upwards he focused, but relaxed when all he found was a few familiar faces among one of the many teams patrolling the area. He snorted, smoke curling around his face.

Another pull, the cold wash of nicotine a nice cleanse to the tension in the air.

He was overthinking this.

And after all they’d been through, who could blame him really? Being constantly on the run would make anyone look over their shoulder or keep a gun within reach. Still, it wasn’t like the Agency knew where they were this time. To add to it nothing could get through the blast doors even if it tried. They’d tested those well enough for him to be certain.

It was just a very quiet night and he wasn’t used to it. That had to be it.

The cig smoldered between his lips in one last drag before he flicked the used butt over the railing. Arms raising over his head he stretched with a groan, “Damn,” He muttered, wincing at the series of pops going up his spine, “Ya’d think I’m getting old with how I crack like a handful of spaghetti.”

He was done with his morning smoke anyways.

Mobility returned to his spine Deimos rubbed at his neck he turned his back to the city, meandering back inside. Hitting the switch beside the glass door to slide it shut behind him he glanced at the clock on the comically cluttered bedside table he owned. Yep, too early for him to be this awake, if the glaring red 7:37 was anything to go by. Well mostly glaring, since his cap was haphazardly draped over it when he’d tossed it there yesterday. Or last night, he didn’t look at it then because he was too busy flopping face first into bed.

A healthy gurgling from his stomach brought him out of his thoughts.

That’s right. He didn’t eat last night either. Not really any time to when you’re face first into the ugly end of some bastardized wiring job done nearly half a decade ago. He hummed under his breath.

Was it too early to get something from the cafeteria? It was still morning he supposed; maybe some breakfast sausage would be left this time since he’d be able to get there first for once. The thought alone was tantalizing despite the exhaustion tugging at the edge of his conscious.

Did he even change after all that sweatshop work yesterday?

Pulling at the hem of his tank top he took a whiff. Yep, stunk of old sweat and probably a hint of grease; he didn’t. Pants probably didn’t smell too great either but who would check those and not come off like a weirdo? A quick sweep of the cargo pants half hanging off his hips proved them to be good enough with no obvious stains or rips.

Deimos shrugged. It was good enough. At least he didn’t stink of blood or anything, otherwise Doc would be on his ass hard. Though it wasn’t like anyone would be able to tell the difference in this sausage fest anyways. He’d be fine for a quick early morning bite.

Just needed to grab his jacket and boots and he’d be good to go.

Deimos scratched the stubble lining his jawline while he scanned the room. He’d taken off his jacket somewhere mid collapse but he couldn’t place where. He wasn’t one to lose things—most of the time at least—but sometimes it felt like they just up and disappeared. With his luck it would probably end up in a really obnoxious place like behind the bed or something. Not like that would happen since the thing was braced up against the wall in the corner so it had to be somewhere around here.

He paused when he noticed the distinctly leather looking lump laying on the floor beside said furniture.

Oh. There it is.

Approaching the bed he picked up his jacket off the floor. It still had some dust from when he’d been crawling through the vents last night as he swiped a hand over the shoulder. He grimaced at the sticky webbing that stuck to his fingers; a few cobwebs, too. Gross. Shaking it to clear out any excess dust he threw it on haphazardly, adjusting his pants once it was snugly over his shoulders. Belt tightened up again he’d turned towards the table and nearly tripped over his own boots.

Welp, at least those weren’t far either. Glad he’d had half the mind to take those off before crashing.

Cursing a bit under his breath he snatched his cap off the clock. With a quick sweep of his hand through his hair to straighten it a bit he put his hat on and sat on the bed, scooting his boots closer with a foot. Once they were laced up and buckled he got to his feet, ready for the day—or at least, the really early morning.

He glanced at the clock again. It blinked lazily at 8AM.

Eh, early enough. But the call of some sweet breakfast sausage was not to be ignored.

The moment he turned towards the door there was a series of firm knocks. He jumped, nearly tripping again as he cracked out, “Uh, yeah?” Damn that cig wasn’t enough apparently because his nerves must still be fried from that morning.

“Deimos, it’s me.”

His lips quirked a bit, confused. Normally, Doc only went after him when something broke or got jammed up again but a glance at the tablet resting on the table face up didn’t reveal a blinking light for a missed message. Unless something went wrong in the handful of seconds he’d been standing there then why was he trying to talk to him now of all times, “Hang on.” Tromping across the room he swiped his code in, the door opening with a hiss.

Doc was standing in front of his room, arms behind his back and head turned away as he kept his focus down the hall before turning to face him. He scanned him head to foot, “You look like shit.”

Deimos rolled his eyes with a huff, “Good morning to you too, Doc.” Leave it to him to state the obvious. Not like he didn’t already feel like crap in more than a few ways. He propped an arm against the door as he nodded towards him, “What’s up?”

2B stood a bit straighter, and just by his posture alone he had a feeling that whatever he was going to say wasn’t good, “Boss called in this morning, we have another assignment.”

Well he wasn’t wrong.

Deimos sighed, traces of smoke licking at his tongue as he tossed his head back, “Seriously? Now? Doc I haven’t eaten yet.” As if to prove his point his stomach made yet another unhappy glug. Both men glanced down, the tech sweeping a hand towards it with brows raised.

“I can tell.” Doc merely returned his gaze placidly, “Have you seen Sanford yet?”

He shook his head, “Nah. Haven’t left until now.” Though if he were to take a guess, he’d say the demolition’s expert would be working out somewhere.

It seemed they shared the same thought as 2B nodded, “I assume he might be downstairs at this hour. I did hear some commotion from one of the training decks.”

He chuckled a bit. Typical Ford.

“I want you to be ready within the hour, Deimos. You’ll get to eat when you get back. I’ll tell the staff in the kitchen to keep something in the oven for you.” He turned around, fully intending to leave before adding, “And also, get some washing done when you get back. You smell like a corpse.” With that he took his leave while Deimos scowled at his back.

Great. Of course it would be doc who’d notice.

Still he only sighed, punching the code into the panel to lock the door behind him. Getting his gear from the locker he had downstairs would only take a couple of minutes, and Ford should already be up if he was taking up a training room.

Just another day in Nevada, per the usual.

Things never really change.

#madness combat #Deimos #2BDamned #my writing #fun

[sewingbear]

Champion Card 

Finally finished all the cards for my inquisitor! :D woohoo! To be honest this took weeks to do. I had a completely different card that I drew up but I kept restarting it because it wasn’t looking good at all. So I decided to toss it and do something different. This new card also took a while but I’m glad I kept with it. It turned out really nice :3

More stuff about the card and the symbolism under the read more. 

So if you’re not aware this card is part of a series I’m doing where I draw my inquisitor character from dragon age inquisition. When you pick your party members before entering a map you pick from like a row of cards. The cards change depending on if you romance them or if you do their personal quest. I really wanted to draw my owns cards so here I am. There’s also cards for other things too. Such as when you start the game and create your character you pick what you want via clicking cards. I’m gonna be honest I high references the elf and dwarf card. I honestly didn’t realize I was looking at the elf card, which has the stag on it, and I felt really guilty because I keep making my inquisitor very elf like but she’s a dwarf asdrfkjhfasrjkhasfjk. In my head I just can’t help but think that dwarfs should be very nature loving. Like it just makes sense to me if you love stone so much you should also love plants and know a lot about plants because have to deal with roots sometimes?? Anyways! I tried to tie back in that she a dwarf by giving her the rusty ring in the background which is also in the dwarf card. I’m really happy I put it in because it’s really pretty.  

So like in game depending on what race you pick you get a different backstory and why you’re at the location at the start of the game. I’m gonna be honest with you...... I hate the dwarf backstory. I hate it!!!!! I don’t wanna be from a crime family on the surface world ;A; I’m good noodle. I could never do crimes. When I first started the game I walked in really wanted to be a ranger druid type of character because that’s what I really like. Welp I got a archer rogue who loves elfroot and I guess I’ll take it. To be honest after talking to Scout Lace Harding I really wanted her back story. A dwarf girl from a village who has been practicing archer for a bit, and when things started to go wrong in the world joined inquisition to make things better. Like it’s cute and simple I like it a lot. Also when I first ran into her it was like looking into a fucking mirror. We had the same hair cut and super similar face and I shit you not. 

Anyways here some meaning behind what I drew

-The stag and stag antlers are a reference to a story I made for my character. I haven’t posted it anywhere yet because it’s long and I don’t actually know if I want it or not. The stag is also a call back to the halla from my first card. I also just like dears and stuff uwu

-I put her in a more revealing dress because I wanted to represent her letting go of her anxiety that she had at the start. Feeling more free in her skin and what she does. Her first card she had a very sad and worried face because holy shit so much is happening at once.

-She has a bow and arrow because she is an archer. The bow Is a real bow in game I added some leaves to it as a call back to the tree in the first card. It’s suppose to be like things are growing back. The world is healing. The arrow is green because I gotta reference that anchor. Of course it’s in the left hand too.

Anyways thank you for reading this! I hope you like my drawing :3

#my oc #dragon age inquisition #inquisitor #cards #pc card #self portrait #dai #shelly #artwork #digital art #digital painting #tumblr artist #dragon age 3 #self insert art

[buglife]

Bend and Not Break - Ch 3: A Brand

Read here on AO3 :3

(please there is not nice stuff ahead with implied torture so be careful!)

Well, wasn’t this a predicament.

Monomon looked over her notes with a careful eye. It took three prisoners to get her even close to figuring out what was currently harming her son. It had taken hours and she was starting to get a little frustrated by her lack of progress.

So far, she figured out that what she had was a complex neurotoxin with trace elements of other toxic extracts. She identified hemlock and arsenic at the least, which tickled her since Quirrel used to eat those with no trouble. However, the delivery method was directly into the blood stream so there was no time for the digestive system to break down the toxins and neutralize them. So that just proves that they wanted her son dead and wanted him dead fast.

With that reasoning, she had no problems planning what she was going to do to the next prisoner on her list. There was going to be a fifth but sadly Tiso said she couldn’t have that one. Oh well, it made sense to keep at least one alive. She didn’t ask too many questions, she was too focused on her work to ask why. Ghost had sent a messenger to her every hour to update her on Quirrel’s condition and he had started to take a turn for the worse. The only thing she could do was send up advice on how to keep him comfortable and try to head off any permanent damage.

The last messenger had just departed from her makeshift lab and she slowly turned her head to look at the dragonfly strapped to the chair. He was shivering, his eyes wide as he watched her every movement. He had heard the screams and he most likely knew what was going to happen to him. It made her feel a little better that he was experiencing even an ounce of terror her son must be feeling. But it wasn’t enough, not for her.

Tiso had told her he had a lead on a possible antidote, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. Not when it’s her son on the line. She grimly put down her notes and grabbed a fresh syringe. It was time to get back to work.

She refused to fail her child, not now, not ever.

-----

Tiso and Xena had to nearly fight their way through the crowd gathered outside the palace. News on what had happened had reached most of the Kingdom by now, so a vigil had been set up that seemed to get bigger every-time he looked out the windows. Candles and flowers were all over the place as various bugs prayed or tried to comfort each other as they collectively hoped for the King's safety. He was glad that the people were so worried over the nerd, especially when he saw the effects it was having on the prisoner walking with them.

Her name turned out to be Lara, and she had wisely decided to talk. She kept her head down, antenna pinned back in discomfort as they picked their way around the crowd. Her hands and wings were bound under the cloak, hiding the fact she was a prisoner from view. Hopefully, she was beginning to see how wrong she was, but her redemption wasn’t Tiso’s problem right now.

“You should have let me take Pickles with us.” Xena complained. All three of them were wearing heavy cloaks over their armor and bindings in an effort to blend in. “We could have gotten through the crowd faster.”

“That would be the complete opposite of being stealthy, I think.” Tiso deadpanned, keeping a hand around the arm of the ladybug beside him. “We don’t want them to see us coming, and your beast is hard to miss.”

Xena huffed in response. They all finally were able to clear the crowd, leaving the vigil behind as the headed to the Capital. Lara was silent most of the way, seemingly stewing in guilt. When they finally arrived at a rather opulent mansion, she stopped the both of them.

“Here. Like I said. There’s private guards inside and more people like...like me.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “They are probably all there...celebrating.”

“Well it won’t be a fun time for them all for long.” Tiso looked around the street and Lara tried to follow his gaze.

“But...it’s just you two, right? Even being Knights…”

Xena shook her head and made a gesture with her hand as she looked into the darkness in the alleys. Then, several pairs of eyes glittered in the soft light, and they were everywhere. Lara could see dark shapes stealthily climb their way to just above each window and door. They must have called in all the guard for this raid, as Lara lost count as they took their positions. A few were hanging back, most likely there in case someone tried to escape.

“Welp, time to crash a party,” Tiso said, bringing his shield out from under his cloak. He flashed light off the shield three times, and then suddenly, everything went into motion. Guards smashed their way through windows and doors and the screaming started. Each scream was getting cut off one by one as both knights leisurely strolled right up to the front door.

A guard helpfully opened it up from the other side and both knights and prisoner quickly ran inside. Guards were throwing bugs to the floor, quickly shackling them up so they couldn’t escape. The ones that tried to fight back were quickly shown that that was a mistake to make.

“This is outrageous! I can’t believe you would break into my home with no ri-” A rather obnoxious and nasally voice was trying to argue, and was only succeeding at pissing off the guard trying to arrest them. Apparently, they got so frustrating that the guard simply tossed them through one of the large ornate windows inside, spraying glass everywhere. The bug being thrown was clearly someone of wealth and power, judging by the sheer amount of gold on their person. The round bug couldn’t stop themselves from rolling and they ended up right in front of Tiso, who helpfully stopped them with a boot.

“Well well well…” Tiso grinned as he turned over the bug to see their face. “If it isn’t the little grub that got himself banned from court and stripped of nobility for being a gigantic prick.”

Said bug was not a grub, but they started to sputter in anger, mandibles flinging spit as they tried to put words to their rage. If anything they proved they were just so. They were a Jewel beetle and figured himself to be hot shit among the rest of the upper class, and was known for his tantrums. No wonder why he got put in a perpetual time out. Tiso for the life of him, couldn’t remember his name, but sure remembered his annoying, grating voice.

“Unhand me this instant you peasant!” His limbs wiggled, but he was trapped on his back and unable to get up. “I did nothing wrong to warrant this harassment!”

“I would figure treason is a pretty good justification.” He rolled the angry bug to another guard, who began to shackle them up. “Take him to the dungeon and put him in the worst cell we have.”

“Right away sir.” Two guards managed to get the beetle on his feet and made their way to a caged cart waiting outside, already filling up with prisoners. As soon as they were gone, Tiso turned back to Lara, who was still boggling at what was going on around her.

“Hey.” He snapped his fingers in front of her face, shocking her back into reality. “Where do we get the antidote?”

She glanced around the room, before pointing. “Here,” she said, indicating a locked door to the side. “That’s where the make the poison, at least, I think they do. I wasn’t allowed to go down there, and I don’t have a key.”

“We don’t need a key.” Tiso hefted his shield over his shoulder.

“Be careful,” Lara said, looking to the door. “It’s stairs behind there, I think it goes to the basement.”

“Alright then.” Xena pointed to a pair of guards that seemed to be free for the moment. “Stay with them, and do not move. Cooperate with them and answer any questions they may have.” Her tone left no room for argument, and Lara nodded and did as she was told.

Tiso readied his shield, and then threw himself at the door. The door rattled on it’s hinges, the lock vibrating from the hit as Tiso readied himself again. It four solid bashes for the door to finally crack enough where the lock simply fell apart. Everyone paused, listening, but there was only silence.

He gestured to Xena and a few other guards to follow as they silently and carefully trudged down the stairs. Soon they could hear snippets of voices and the further down the went, the clearer the voices became.

“Please….please don’t! I don’t want this! Stop!” There was a voice, sounding feminine and high. They were sobbing, words forced out between the rare times where they could catch their breath. They sounded absolutely miserable.

“This is for the good of the people,” answered another voice. It was deeper and held a cold edge to it. “It wouldn’t be so hard for you if you just cooperated.”

“I won’t! I won’t!” There was a sharp, zapping noise and the sobbing voice screamed. A flash of light blinked from the crack under the door and the sobbing melted into soft weeping.

Tiso took position around the door, Xena to the other side. He held up his hand, and folded down a claw counting down from three. When he reached zero, they both turned and kicked down the door. It practically flew off its hinges and collided hard with someone on the other side. Judging by the shout, it was the deeper voice they hit. Both knights and their guards swarmed into the room.

What awaited them was a terrible sight.

A scorpion was chained to a chair, crying in pain, her tail and stinger stretched out behind her and strapped to a bench. One of her eyes was swollen shut and there were cracks in her chitin, deep blue bruising blooming under the softer skin-like parts of her belly and sides.

Xena gasped, glancing at her pincers, thin and long instead of the more common large variety. “Holy shit, that’s a deathstalker!”

“A what?” Tiso was standing on the door, pinning down whoever was underneath. Whoever it was, seemed to have been knocked for a loop. It was easy for him to grab the limbs poking out from under the door and putting cuffs on them.

“A deathstalker.” Xena sounded awed. “They have some of the deadliest venom among bug-kind. Incredibly rare and secretive as a people.”

The scorpion continued her crying. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I couldn’t stop them!”

“Stop wh-?” Tiso’s eyes landed on a few jars filled with yellow fluid sitting on what appeared to be a work table. There were other bottles and jars that were labeled, but his eyes were drawn to the jars of fluid. Then he looked down at the bug, a beetle it seemed, squished under the door. The jar they were holding had rolled away, also containing a small amount of the same fluid. He glanced to the stinger, strapped down and leaking slightly from the tip, some incredibly angry charged lumaflies in a jar beside it.

It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

“That’s...that’s fucking sick. I can’t…” The ant could barely think of a response to all of this. He heard a few guardsmen behind him, also boggling at the situation. He took a deep breath, and addressed them. “You know what to do, gather evidence and look everywhere. Someone send a message to Monomon and fast.”

The rest of the guard went about their duties, carefully checking cabinets and the walls, looking for anymore surprises. One waited around long enough for Xena to tell them exactly what the message should say, before they raced upstairs to deliver it. With that taken care of, Xena went about freeing the scorpion, who was still babbling, moving as carefully as she could to prevent anymore pain.

“I never wanted to hurt anyone! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Shh, I know. You’ll be alright. I know this wasn’t your fault.” Xena was rarely the type to be gentle, but this was a situation that definitely required it. “We’ll get to you to a doctor and you’ll be okay. You’re safe now, they won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”

“But...but they said they were going to-” The scorpion wobbled and collapsed back into the chair, her limbs spasming and twitching. It seemed like she wasn’t going to be able to walk under her own power.

“You two! Get a stretcher!” Xena barked at some of the guards. As they went to fetch one, Xena knelt down and took her now freed pincer in her hand. “Everyone is okay, we’ll talk about that later. What’s your name?”

“Poppy.” She seemed to be calming down, but instead of outright sobbing she started to shiver. Xena took off her cloak and set it around Poppy’s shoulders. She knew what shock looked like and she didn’t want this poor arachnid to suffer anymore than she had too. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for a stretcher to appear and Xena helped her on.

Once Poppy was secure, she sent them back to the palace to be seen by Monomon. Until they can verify a doctor, the scientist will have to make due. She at least had extensive experience in patching up the wounded and could at least make the scorpion comfortable. She made sure to include in the message that she was a victim and not one of the collaborators. Making a note to check on Poppy later, and turned to look at Tiso.

She sighed.

Tiso had the beetle pinned to the floor, and was threatening them with a bottle of collected venom. “Where’s the antidote, asshole!”

“I...I-” They sputtered and tried to wiggle free.

“Wrong answer!” He started to unscrew the jar. “Lets give ya a taste of your own medicine!”

Xena sighed. “Tiso…”

“Yeah?” He inclined his head at her, ignoring the beetle freaking the hell out under his boot.

“Give the bastard time to answer.”

“Fine,” he pouted. He screwed the lid back on. “Tell me where the antidote is. And before you stagshit me, I know there’s one. Because nobody ever made any poison without one in case they fuck up and stab themselves with it. So. Where. Is. It.” He punctuated each word by poking the beetle in the face, hard.

The beetle coughed and moved an arm to point at the work table. “B—blue bottle,” he wheezed.

Xena walked over to pick up the bottle, scrutinizing it. “There’s no way we are just gonna use it without testing it first.”

“That’s what Monomon is for.” Tiso grabbed up the beetle and clicked their arms behind their back. “Let’s get this all packed together quickly and bring it over.”

“I told the messenger that that’s what we were going to do.” Xena grabbed a spare box sitting around, and began carefully packing up all the bottles and notes that were on the work table.

“I’m never gonna get to smooch my girlfriends at this rate.” Tiso sighed. “We’ll be in the dungeons forever processing all of this.”

“Cry me a river, I’m not gonna be able to smooch mine either.” Xena handed the now full box to a guard and sent them on their way. “Let’s just focus on our work, we got lives on the line after all.”

“Yeah I know, but I’m still allowed to whine about it.” The beetle found himself wincing as Tiso dragged him up the stairs, letting them hit every stone step on the way. “I’ll see you back there soon, I’m gonna take in the prisoners.”

Said beetle was now sorely starting to regret his current life decisions.

-----

Quirrel was quickly getting frustrated. He found himself in the archive library, nooks and crannies stretching as far as he could see. The various scrolls, books, and stone tablets were scatter haphazardly and he had to put things right. But he couldn’t read the words in order to sort them, or he’d pick up a tablet for it to change into a book. There was so much to do, and he couldn’t even get something as simple as reading correct! Mother would be home soon and she always expected her library to be put back in order. He was going to get a scolding for this, for sure.

Truly, this was a nightmare.

“You cannot read because this is a dream.” Came a voice from behind him, suddenly making the air less foggy and thick. Quirrel whirred around, startled into dropping the stack of books he was carrying. He didn’t notice them falling apart into motes of essence as he lost his focus, looking to the figure sitting in one of the armchairs instead. “Surely, the proclaimed ‘Scholar King’ would know such a thing.”

They were a tall, elegant bug dressed in reds and blacks. Quirrel wasn’t quite sure on the species, they looked like a blend between a moth and a firefly. They were lounging, watching Quirrel with bright red eyes. Then, with all the manners of a showman, they straightened up to smile at him, and gestured with a bow.

“We’ve met before, though I understand if you are having trouble, due to your circumstances.” Their voice was deep and smoky, with an undertone of mystery and confidence. It was very familiar.

“Come and sit,” they gestured to a chair that suddenly appeared next to theirs. “We have much to discuss, and not so much time to do so.” A small table with a teapot appeared before them, still steaming hot and smelling wonderful. Oddly enough, there was a strange glowing red jar next to the honey and tiny sandwiches. He didn’t quite know what to do, but he did know that this bug was not going to harm him, somehow. So he walked over to sit, watching as the archives twisted and melted, changing into a cozy room with a lit fireplace. Quirrel sat, glancing to the jar. It had a very ominous feeling that made his chitin itch and a primal dread well up in his belly.

“Don’t mind that, it’s for me.” The bug continued, they poured out some tea and handed Quirrel a cup. They opened the jar and plucked out a few red marbles and dropped it into theirs. They stirred it with a smile and took a sip.

“What was that?” Quirrel was now intrigued, watching the other bug take another sip before holding the cup elegantly in their claws.

“Nightmares, my friend. Your dear spouse prunes them from their kingdom and saves them for my child and I.”

“Wait...you eat nightmares?” Quirrel glanced to his own cup, antenna twitching in thought. Spouse? He had to think hard for a moment, and took a sip of tea. It tasted like happiness, and it helped to jog his memory as he felt the pain in his head lessen somewhat. Spouse...spouse...a tall bug, no, vessel appeared in his minds eye. They were once so little and they were now big and elegant. They were a...a…Ghost.

He suddenly could remember Ghost. The first time they met in the Temple of the Black Egg so long ago and how the years flew by and suddenly they were married. They were rulers. He took a moment to remember exactly what they did besides ruling, and it came to him.

Ghost did go into the dream realm and told him about clipping away the nightmares from their subjects. Some, they left, if the dreamer needed or deserved them. So this was….

“Grimm?” Quirrel hesitantly voiced, “The Nightmare King?”

“Correct.” Grimm smiled as he took another sip of tea. “There’s the intelligent bug that causes a certain god to swoon.”

“So that means….”

“You are in a nightmare, yes.”

“It doesn't feel so bad?” Quirrel pondered, his tea somehow staying warm. “How is this a nightmare?”

“Because you are very sick, my friend. Do you remember what happened?” Grimm set down their cup, folding their claws together to regard Quirrel with intense focus.

Quirrel closed his eyes and thought, digging deep down into his own mind. “I was...with Ghost. In public. There were flashes then...I don’t remember?”

“Flashes hrm? Do me a favor, and take a look at yourself.” Grimm pointed with a claw, and Quirrel followed his gaze.

There, on his abdomen, was a nice gash. Certainly not deep enough to kill him, that’s for sure. But there was something…strange about it. Looking past the blue of his own blood was...another color? It was...yellow? It mixed together, turning his blood green as it trickled down his side and on to the chair. It seemed to vanish as soon as it touched the fabric. He touched his wound and felt only a numbness in response. Now that he saw it, he remembered.

“Someone tried to kill us.”

“Indeed, they did. And you were poisoned.” Grimm tilted their head, seemingly pleased that Quirrel had remembered so quickly. “Thankfully, your assassins didn’t take your biology into account.”

“Pillbugs are resistant to poisons.” it dawned on Quirrel. He was poisoned, but he wasn’t dead. He was...in between?

“Yes. You, however, are quite sick, and your friends and family are worried for you. Especially, your spouse, and my friend.” Grimm snapped his fingers, and the wound vanished like it was never there.

Quirrel took a moment to think, mulling over the obvious question.

“Am I going to die?”

Grimm shook his head with a soft smile. “Not likely. Everyone is working hard to bring you back to the waking world. Until then, I am here.”

Quirrel leaned back. “So...are you here to just eat my nightmares? Why are you here? Not that I don’t mind the company, I am just curious. Surely you must have something more important to do.”

“I owe Ghost greatly. Because of them, my daughter thrives. They cared for them even before the beginning of new Hallownest. They have provided a way to be sure that they will always have the scarlet flames they need to grow, and a way for us to feed without resorting to parasitism.” Grimm sounded fond. “So, I decided to keep you company until you awaken once more. It’s the very least I can do.”

“That’s very kind of you, thank you.” Quirrel smiled. “Tell me, have you visited any interesting places outside of Hallownest?”

“I have, shall I tell you about them?”

“Please.” Quirrel sipped his tea and decided that perhaps, this wasn’t the worst way to pass the time. He needed to wake up, but that wasn’t in his control, he just hoped everyone would be alright until then.

-----

Ghost has yet to move from their husband’s side. Time seemed to come to a crawl, and they found themselves hanging on to every labored breath, every intake of air that Quirrel managed to take. There was always that split second of fear when they thought he had stopped breathing, only for him to thankfully, take another breath. It was exhausting and everything inside them ached for their beloved, helpless to do anything. Monomon of course, sent up advice. They had used cold water in an effort to bring down their fever. Made sure to keep their gills moist as a way to keep them hydrated. They dared not try to make him drink anything, not with their breathing so bad. They were trying so hard.

They found it ironic. All the power in the world but they couldn’t heal the ones they love the most. They could destroy all they want, but they couldn’t fix things this complicated.

They didn’t want to think about what would happen if things were to go terribly wrong.

They had nightmares before of losing Quirrel, back when they still slept like a normal bug. It had started during their journey through Hallownest before they defeated the radiance. Quirrel was one of the few positive experiences during that horrible time. Every time they saw him at some new place or another, they felt safe, and happy. It was like being offered a warm cup of cocoa when you were freezing to death, desperate to grasp onto any scrap of goodness you could find. Quirrel definitely fit the bill, and he and the others reminded them of what they were fighting to save.

Even when they finally got up on the growth they missed and took the throne, they still feared losing their best friend. Said best friend eventually turned into an awkward romantic interest and it was downhill right into the feelings from there.

They looked down at the bundled up pillbug and they could sense that he was dreaming. It was certainly better than being in agony, and he hoped that his dreams were of good things.

“Quirrel,” They crooned softly and rested their chin on his arm, afraid to place it on the usual spot on his chest in case it hindered his breathing. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but please don’t go. I love you.”

The only reply they got was Quirrel’s hand twitching as one of his nerves misfired.

The door opened softly and Ghost snapped their head up, alert for any type of danger. They had failed to protect Quirrel then...and they weren’t going to slip up again.

Thankfully, it was one of the few people they trusted with their life.

“My child,” Mato quietly shut the door behind him. “I came as quickly as I could.”

Ghost shook, feeling tears once again prickle in the corners of their eyes, threatening to spill over and stain everything again. “Father…”

The large bug crossed the room with scarcely a noise and pulled Ghost into a hug. They nuzzled into the warm fluff around his cloak and let their tears fall. “Father...I’m scared.”

“I know you are. It’s part of loving someone.” He rubbed small circles into their back, a way he learned that they liked to be comforted. “I know this is a very frightening situation for you, so I’m here to help.”

“I’ve been watching, and I h-”

“All day?” Mato let go to look into their eyes.

“Yes, and -”

“Did you eat? Sleep? Drink water?”

Ghost had to take a moment to think of an answer.

“Then you need to do both and you need to do it now. No butts, no excuses.” Mato turned them around and started to march them to the kitchenette in their apartment.

“I am a god, I don’t need to do those things.” Ghost knew better than to fight it, letting themselves be led to the icebox. Mato raided the inside, pulling out a bowl of leftover stew and pouring a glass of water.

“You may be a god, but I am still your father and I know that you need these things for your own sanity.” Mato passed over the stew, which quickly vanished into the void of their mouth. “You need to take a break, and take care of yourself or you will burn out and we’ll have two injured bugs on our hands.”

Ghost nodded mutely, accepting the glass of water and draining it as well. They didn’t know if they were imagining things or not, but it did make them feel a little better. Mato watched, nodding in approval.

“Good, now you rest, and I will keep watch over the both of you.” He had grabbed them again by the shoulders, and was leading them back to the nest.

“But you just got here, you must be tired too.”

“I can manage a few hours enough to let you rest up a bit. What kind of father would I be if I couldn’t give my child time to recover from a terrible ordeal?” Ghost was picked up and placed inside the nest next to Quirrel. They reflexively moved to hold them as Mato pulled the covers up around them. They started to purr, hoping that Quirrel could feel their love for him, even in the world of dreams.

Mato started humming, moving around to tidy up and starting a fire in the fireplace. It was the music of care and support that eventually lulled them into a state of peace. The stress of everything had taken a toll on them, and it didn’t take long for them to fall asleep, curled up next to their husband.

#hollow knight #fanfiction #my writing #terra lumina #bend and not break #ghost #quirrel #ghost/quirrel #tiso #god tamer #xena #monomon the teacher #monomom #nailmaster mato #dadmaster mato #royalty au #king ghost #king quirrel #grimm #grimm and ghost are bffs #original characters #torture #fudged science #assassination attempt #poisoning #did you know that beetles are largest order of organisms on earth? #real world science adapted for bugs