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lexosaurus · 2 years

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Ectoberweek 25: Forgotten Bones

Prompt: 1. Forest 2. He thinks about the corpse in the woods sometimes. Hard to forget where you are buried.

Characters: Johnny 13, Danny Phantom WC: 1145

———

“I don’t know if I should tell them,” Phantom said, his head hung low and his elbows resting on his knees. It was easy to forget how small the kid was when he trampled around his haunt like some tyrannical overlord, squashing any trespassers before they could say ‘hello.’

Johnny 13 blew the cigarette smoke from his throat and watched it fizzle into the crisp air.

“I feel bad because there’s supposed to be no more secrets, you know? They said they accepted me, so I don’t know why…”

“I never told anyone,” Johnny said.

He might have felt amusement toward Phantom’s owlish reaction if he was in better humor. But then, Johnny was never one to talk about his past.

Most ghosts weren’t.

“Really?” Phantom asked.

“Yup.”

“Why?”

He mulled it over. “It was nobody’s business.”

It was unsurprising to see the kid’s unconvinced expression. Ghost intuition and all.

Because even Phantom knew that unresolved deaths don’t just resolve after a few years of being a ghost. That even if the memories get altered during ghost-formation, the pain never goes away.

The moment never disappears.

It was just his luck he’d get trapped in this situation. Dragged to the forest by a group of faceless, fuzzy men—he couldn’t remember what they looked like—and surrounded with guns drawn and flashlights pointed in his eyes, casting long shadows behind him.

“Please,” Johnny begged. “You have the wrong guys.”

“That’s not what I heard,” the leader said. Beside him, his thug pressed his gun into Kitty’s temple.

“The money or the girl. Your choice.”

“Nobody’s business,” Johnny reiterated, tapping the fresh ash from his cigarette.

The Boy Scout beside him was too out of it to make an annoying remark about littering or whatever the hell dumb thing he’d usually say.

“But Kitty knows, right?”

“She was there, moron.”

“Right, but…” Phantom turned away, sheepish. “Not everyone remembers.”

“Well, you’d have to ask her then. Not everyone was insane enough to—what did you do again?”

If anything, Phantom looked even smaller as he spoke, “...I buried it in the woods.”

“Right, exactly. Most of us don’t bury our own fucking corpses in the woods.”

“And yet, you and I are both in the same place.”

Johnny looked out at the dark sky, noting the speckles of stars that danced around each other. And it occurred to him that, well shit, maybe they were in the same place. Maybe they were both stuck leading an afterlife based off of forgotten skin, forgotten bones.

Forgotten bodies.

But no, they weren’t the same. “Even if I wanted to change it now, I couldn’t. There’s nobody to tell.”

Kitty’s terrified eyes met his, and Johnny nearly collapsed on the spot. The flashlights suddenly seemed too bright, too blinding.

“I’m telling you, it wasn’t us.”

“Really? You weren’t at Tony’s last Tuesday?”

Johnny took a step back, nearly tripping over a root. “No! No, that’s not—”

“You’re calling Tony a liar?”

“—No, please!”

“You could always tell the police. Lead them to your…”

Now that Johnny did chuckle at. “And what do you think would come out of that, kid? Surrender my bones over to the police—and for what, exactly? Justice? Revenge? Kid, I died forty years ago. Do you know what happens to bodies that stay in the dirt for forty years?”

“Well, I was going to say that it might give you some closure, but—”

“Then what’s stopping you?” Johnny said, stamping his cigarette out on the cement roof. “Maybe you should be less worried about me, a guy who’s living out his afterlife doing the thing he loves with the girl of his dreams, and more focused on yourself, who’s clearly so upset you had to come to me for advice.”

Phantom blushed green, and the brief spark of smug fire vanished from his eyes. “I didn’t come to you, you were just already here.”

“And? You’re still talking to me.”

Phantom grumbled but otherwise didn’t argue.

And thank goodness for that too, because Johnny hadn’t come to Earth for a therapy session. He didn’t want to relive that night. He didn’t want to think about what happened. He didn’t want to remember the feel of the brush scraping his legs, the dirt that stained his skin, the guns pressed against their backs as they were led further into the forest, closer and closer to The End.

The sound of Kitty’s voice. The tears on her face. The trembling in her voice.

“Please, sir, that’s not what he meant! We really don’t have anything, I promise!” Kitty cried. “Let us go, just let us go.”

The man pulled out his gun and pointed it at Johnny. Although Johnny couldn’t see—couldn’t remember—the man’s face, he would never forget the pure terror that races through his veins as the barrel pointed at his forehead. He would never forget his shaking limbs finally collapsing onto the dirt. He would never forget praying for one more day with Kitty so they could finally take that road trip they’d always talked about.

“You were there at Tony’s, and on your way out, you nicked from his cocaine supply. You either pay up the money you stole, or I’ll shoot you and your pretty lady myself.”

Johnny’s vision swam. “I—I don’t…”

The fuzzy form of the man stepped closer, casting his shadow over Johnny. “What’s that, princess?”

“I…don’t have it.”

“You should tell them, though,” Johnny said, breaking the silence between them.

Phantom gave him a quizzical look, and Johnny felt like a bug under a microscope. Damn, that kid could be a real pain in the ass sometimes.

Still, something compelled him to keep talking. So he turned his attention back to the sky and said in a detached voice, “You should tell them while you can. Because if you don’t do it now, you never will. You’ll keep putting it off, and putting it off until one day you’ll look around you and realize that there’s nobody left to tell. And you’ll spend the rest of your afterlife wondering if you should have told someone during any of those days you asked yourself and decided it wasn’t the right moment, it wasn’t the right day, that you would do it tomorrow. Because you only have tomorrow until you don’t. And you never know when that day will come, but it will, and it will come faster than you think.”

Phantom didn’t respond, but Johnny didn’t need him to. After all, they were both in the same place, and they weren’t. Johnny had no more tomorrows left, but Phantom still did.

He still had the chance to do what Johnny never could.

Johnny 13 thought about the corpse in the woods sometimes. Hard to forget where you are buried.

He heard Kitty let out a fresh sob in front of him.

“Well, that’s tough luck, kid.”

There was a crack.

Kitty screamed.

And then nothing.

#ectoberweek2022 #kidnapping cw #origin story #day 25 #forgotten bones #phicc #my writing

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p-taryn-dactyl · 2 years

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(Adding this just incase lol, it talks about low confidence and briefly mentions toxic friendships) What about a stargate fic where reader is Daniel's younger sibling and Daniel thinks back to when he and reader were kids and how confident reader used to be and he looks at reader now and realises that reader has lost a lot of confidence over the years (maybe through some harmful/toxic friendships or something) and it's him maybe going to Jack or something for some advice on what to do (because Jack's a dad and he most definitely knows what to do in this situation) and it's the team trying to build up the confidence or reader and reader has no clue what's going on? It's no worries if you don't fancy it! :)

a/n: I’m living for all the stargate requests just so you know! Sorry they take me so long, though! I actually have a lot of personal experiences with toxic friendships so if this fic feels like I’m projecting…it’s because I am edit: i took out some projecting parts so y’all wouldn’t think me crazy

word count: 1.3k

warning(s): mentions of toxic friendships - not a warning but team being a supportive family - i have a very limited understanding of how military bases are, like, structured? I made up terms so yeah :) title is just a vibe, sadly isn’t a line said in here…

They Can’t Take Your Smile

Daniel sat in the commons hall, elbows on his knees as he watched you worriedly. You sat at a table by yourself while surrounding tables were filled with loud soldiers, joking and bragging about past accomplishments. Poking at your food, you gave periodic glances at the soldiers, a longing look in your eyes. Daniel remembered a time where you would’ve stood up and sat at one of the tables, immediately making new friends and creating howls of laughter from your peers. He watched you stand up somewhat solemnly, tightening your jacket around you before picking up your trash and walking out of the room. Daniel shook his head, running a hand through his hair the adjusting his glasses.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this.” He murmured to himself before standing and heading to the one person he believed could help him.

—————————————————————————————————

Daniel used to admire you. Admire your strength, your confidence. How you could make friends in an instance while he always stood off to the side, reading a book about a long forgotten religion.

He still admired you now, but more often than not, he worried about you. He watched as overtime you returned to the cocoon that you were trapped in the years after your parent’s death. He watched as your confidence trickled away with each harsh word they said, watched as they slowly rebuilt the walls you had worked so hard to break down.

It started when Daniel was in college, you your senior year of high school. He noticed you started hanging out more with a crowd of people that left a nasty feeling in his gut. Normally, you would parade around the house, wearing whatever the hell you wanted, laughing as you danced around to music only you can hear. It wasn’t noticeable at first, not like it was now. You started caring about what you wore, what the trends were, you watched your weight, and Daniel swore some nights he heard you crying yourself to sleep.

He heard them one time, while he was studying for a mid-term. Apparently, your friend group had planned to go see a movie. This wouldn’t have been a problem, however they didn’t invite you. Yet here they were, in your room, giving you crap about how you weren’t ready on time, how they called and emailed repeatedly, how you were making them late.

“…i mean come on Y/N!” A voice got louder as the group exited your room, you following quickly behind, attempting to hurriedly pull on a jacket.

“Could you be any more of a burden?”

It was an offhand statement but he watched as it broke you inside. He turned his head to say something but when he made eye contact with you, your eyes pleaded with him to be quiet.

And so he did. He stayed quiet. He stayed quiet while the people who were supposed to be your friends, broke you into a million pieces and refused to pick you up. He stayed quiet as he watched the repercussions of their words play out in your life, how you now let people walk over you, you write mission reports for planets you never even visited. He stayed quiet all these years, but not anymore.

Daniel was done being quiet.

——————————————————————————————————-

Sighing, Daniel knocked on the door to Jack’s quarters. He waited awkwardly, hands in his pockets, silently nodding to passing soldiers. Finally, the door opened, revealing one very shirtless Jack. Daniel’s eyes widened as he looked away, shaking his head.

“Jack, what the- come on, I need your help.”

Jack pointed to his still bare chest, like he had heard Daniel wrong.

“Sure thing Danny-boy, I’ll just throw on a shirt before you bare your soul to me.”

Daniel rolled his eyes yet still smiled at the Colonel. Soon, Jack had a shirt on and Daniel was spilling everything.

“God Jack, they used to be so..so free, ya know? I remember,” he laughed as a memory surfaced in his mind, “I remember one time, in middle school, when they had a giant presentation to do in front of the school and while i would’ve panicked the whole time i was up there, they wore the silliest outfit. They said that if they knew they were focusing on their attire, no one would really notice the mistakes in the speech!”

Memories of you laughing in your crazy bright blue and yellow suit with the red shoes and green tie while dancing with your brother in front of 12 year olds after receiving the highest grade in your class filled his mind. He missed when you didn’t care, when you loved yourself and didn’t second guess every action.

Jack nodded, standing up and slapping a hand on Daniel’s shoulder.

“Y/N needs to know we’re here for them, that we’re not just co-workers, that - well besides you, cause you’re automatically included in this - that we’re family. If you want to rebuild something that’s broken, first you need to gather all the pieces. Now, let’s go get Sam and Teal’c, we’re having a game night!”

The colonel walked out of his room with a determination and energy Daniel had never seen before. He sat in his chair for a moment, soaking in Jack’s words. Nodding to himself, he stood up. He was going to rebuild your confidence, even if it takes him the rest of his life.

——————————————————————————————————-

The team was acting weird.

First, Daniel burst into your room, sitting criss-cross on your bed. Then Sam appears out of basically nowhere, snacks in hand. Jack also barged in at some point, arms overflowing with board games. Teal’c now sat on your bed as well, spreading out the different game boxes methodically in front of him.

“What game are we to play, Y/N Jackson?” He asked you, making you finally take in what was happening. You held out your hands in a shrugging position, shaking your head.

“I don’t- I don’t know? What is going on?”

You looked at everyone in the room, squinting at your brother as he stuffed his face with gummy worms.

“Game night.” Came Jack’s answer, not so subtlety pushing the boxes closer to you. “Now, which game do you want to play?”

“Why are you asking me?”

You didn’t even have a second after asking before Teal’c looked at you intensely, his voice monotone.

“Because we care about your opinion.”

You nodded slowly, still freaked out by what was going on. You were sure they were pranking you or that this was one weird segue into telling you that you were off the team. You pointed to the Game of Life, causing cheers to erupt from the group.

“Great choice, Y/N!”

“I love this game!”

“My sibling, always the smart one.”

“I am sure I will enjoy this Game of Life you speak so highly of.”

Weirded out, you merely set up the game, slight excitement building up inside you when you saw the colors of the board. You hadn’t played this since…well, since they told you it was a child’s game - meant for those who had to rely on a cardboard box for an idea of a future. Everyone grabbed their little figurine and started the game. you started out quiet, only laughing slightly when Jack complained about what square he got, or which number he rolled. But you didn’t realize your brother was watching you, watching as you slowly started showing your real smile. He saw you tease Teal’c for loosing money to you, doing your little victory dance. He saw how the light returned to your eyes with every spin of the wheel. And when you won, inevitably, everyone celebrated.

Imagine General Hammond’s surprise when he went to retrieve SG-1, only to find them all dancing on your bed, game pieces scattered everywhere, your face lit up with a smile the Compound had never seen before.

a/n: i might’ve…kinda…rushed the end bc tumblr was being kinda mean and i didn’t wanna loose my fic bc that happened while i was writing this and yes i did cry. Hopefully this wasn’t terrible and thank you for reading! 2nd a/n: i love the mental image of Teal’c sitting criss cross on a bed playing a board game then jumping on a bed, idk why it’s just important to me

#stargate #stargate sg1 #stargate fanfiction #daniel jackson #daniel jackson x reader #daniel jackson x sibling!reader #sam carter #janet fraiser #jack o'neill #teal’c #sg1 team x reader #general hammond #my writing #lovely anon #stargate anon

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wreywrites · 7 months

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Tiger Shark

Part 1: The Shark

Chapter 3

“You really were thinking about it, weren’t you?” Finnick smiles as he carries the whole tray of cream cheese rolls to the couch.

“Thinking about what?” I grab a roll from the tray as he walks by to turn on the screen. We decided to stay up and watch the replay of the Parade. We can eat all the cream cheese rolls without judgment this way.

“Enjoying what I’m sure would have been a very exciting night with Gloss.”

I shrug and give him most of a smile. “Why not? He asked, I’ll be in the arena before long, and probably dead not too long after that. Might as well enjoy myself a little first.”

Finnick laughs. “Maybe I should have let you. At least you were going in with the right attitude.”

I laugh as well. “Probably not a good idea long term though. I’m sure it would have been fun, and definitely something to brag about-” the grin on Finnick’s face tells me it is not something rare enough to brag about, “-but then I’ve got District One right here,” I tap my temple, “and the Hunger Games are as much mental as they are anything else, so it’s probably better I don’t spend them thinking about the mentor from One whose tribute I will have to kill so I can see him again.”

“Your logic is twisted but infallible. What a very mature conclusion to come to. And yet,” he takes another cream cheese roll, “not once did you mention that boy in there.” He jerks his head toward the hallway.

“Why should I?” Way to ruin the mood, Finnick. I was having fun thinking about Gloss. “You and I—all of us, in fact—know that if we don’t both die, only one of us can make it out. It’s probably better if I stop thinking about him at all.”

“I can’t fault that decision, but I will say this. Who do you trust watching your back in the arena? At least in the beginning. One, just because one of their mentors invited you to bed?”

“I know,” I say quietly. “I just… I don’t want it to be Ten all over again.”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

That night I dream I do get bored and go down to the first floor. There are other people in the elevators and I wonder if the Capitol knows. But of course they do. They probably encourage it, because it adds an extra level of… something… to the Games.

But then when I get to Gloss’s room, I discover that I am wearing the stupid tail skirt. Not only that, but it is stuck. We spend the whole night trying to get me out of the skirt while a parade of what seems like all the people I have ever known walk through offering advice that has nothing to do with the situation at hand. My father reminds me to take small steps when dancing. “That or wear heels, otherwise your partner can’t keep up with your strides.”

Rizz tells me that it is more important to know how to tread water than it is to actually know how to swim. Mrs. Silther tells me there is always time enough to double-knot my shoes the first time, so I don’t have to re-tie them all day. One of my teachers from when I first started school tells me that I should grow with my friends, but sometimes growing means growing apart, and that is okay too.

After what feels like years, Finnick walks in, watches for a bit, and then says, “So is now a bad time to tell you I think you should kill the kids from One first?”

I open my mouth to reply, and find myself being woken by Mags.

I must have had a strange expression on my face because Mags points at her eyes again. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “Right, focus. Got it.”

Mags smiles.

I join the others for breakfast. Finnick insists I eat something other than cream cheese rolls because today is our first day in the training center, and he does not want my stomach growling before lunch. So I eat three cream cheese rolls, a plateful of bacon, and some yellow cherries. He seems satisfied.

“Now, you two are good at tying knots and spear throwing and fishing. I’m not worried about that, and you shouldn’t be either. What I want you to focus on is the stuff you don’t know. Learn how to climb trees, throw knives, identify edible plants.”

Mako starts to say something around a mouthful of cinnamon roll, but Finnick plows on. “I’m not saying ignore what you’re good at. Throw a few spears and practice your knots, but don’t waste a lot of time on it. Just show enough so the Gamemakers know what to put in the cornucopia for you, then learn something new.”

Mako nods. That was apparently his question. But it has raised a new one for me.

“The cornucopia? You want us running into the bloodbath?”

“Honey, you are the bloodbath.” He stops. “Sorry, that was a good question and I did make you a deal. But yes, if you two think you’re up to it, I want you going right for the cornucopia. You’re strong and fast, you can handle it. You get in there, get what you want—even some stuff you’re not sure if you want—maybe eliminate some of the stronger competition, especially if One, Two, and Seven go in too, and you’ll be set for a few days at least. Then I want you to get out of there. A lot of tributes think it’s a good idea to camp at the cornucopia and starve out everyone else. The problem is, the people they’re trying to starve out are the ones who know how to hunt and fish and find edible plants. They don’t need the food at the cornucopia, and the cornucopia becomes everyone’s target. Not the place you want to be. You guys get in, get stocked up, get out. Find somewhere you feel reasonably safe, but not too far away from everyone else, because that’s asking the Gamemakers to throw something horrible at you to push you closer to everyone else. You want somewhere with water above all. Statistically, there will be a body of water in the arena, a lake or river or something. You find that, you have water and you have food, because you know how to fish. Then you can just settle in. Let everyone else pick each other off or starve or succumb to exposure, or let them come to you—because you will be targets—and fight them on your terms.”

Mako and I nod. Then Mako says, “So you want us working together?”

“Yes. Everyone needs allies. And I’ll ask you the same thing I asked Annie: Who do you trust watching your back? One? Three? Eleven?”

Mako shakes his head. “Just Annie.”

“Exactly. That’s all I want you to worry about, because I can promise you this, most alliances break themselves. You won’t have to get up one morning and come to an amicable agreement to go your separate ways. Something will happen that will make that choice for you. So enjoy it while it lasts.”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Finnick takes us down to the training center. The elevator pauses on the first floor to let Gloss and the boy from One in.

Gloss is mid-sentence, something about tendons in the wrist, but he stops and grins at me. “I see you got out of your tail—Finnick help?”

I laugh. “He wishes.”

The elevator begins descending again. The boy from One looks very annoyed.

“How’d you do it?”

Gloss is asking for a risqué answer, so I give one. “There were teeth involved.”

“So you’re that kind.”

The elevator doors open into the training center. The boy from One exits like he can’t get out fast enough. Mako follows.

“Remember what I told you!” Finnick calls after him.

“Tree climbing, got it,” Mako says without turning.

“You,” Finnick points at me, “You go do edible plants. One of you barnacle brains needs to know that pokeweed berries are poisonous.”

“I know that,” I say. Every idiot knows that.

He shoes me away. “Go! Go learn things!”

I roll my eyes and leave the elevator. As I pass Gloss, he smiles and says, “Always a pleasure.”

I make my way to the center of the training center, where most of the other tributes are already grouped around a tall woman. The rest of us are heading that way, and she waves an arm to hurry us along.

“Tributes!” she calls when we have gathered adequately. “Welcome to the training center. You will spend three days here before your individual assessments. During that time, you are allowed to spend as much or as little time at any station as you like. The only rule is no fighting with other tributes. You’ll have plenty of time for that in the arena. Don’t neglect the survival stations. You have an equal chance of being killed by exposure or starvation as by another tribute. Now, good luck to you all.” And with that, she releases us.

I spend the whole morning at the edible plants station. The woman there seems to enjoy having an eager pupil. She first quizzes me on what I know, which is mostly aquatic plants, though I do know the high-profile poisonous plants as well. Then she gives me a crash course in general rules. Things like “Never eat anything you didn’t pluck from the plant or dig up yourself,” and “If the leaves look like they would be unpleasant to touch, nine times out of ten you shouldn’t eat the fruit.” Then we begin going through plants and simply memorizing what is edible, what will kill you, what needs to be cooked, what can be eaten raw, what needs to ripen, what is ripe, and what is overripe (and essentially poisonous at that point, I learn). By the time they call for lunch, my brain hurts.

Mako and I sit together and decide to let others come to us if they are interested. He says Mags told him sometimes the most valuable alliances are forged in the training center, and I can’t argue with her, so we let it happen. But it is day one, and everyone is too nervous and uncertain to approach anyone else. Even One and Two stay away from each other, though I am certain by this time tomorrow they will be best friends.

After lunch, I run the agility course to see how I compare to everyone else. Then I run it a second time because there isn’t a line and it was actually pretty fun. Turns out working on a fishing crew keeps your reflexes sharp. The man running the station casually mentions that it wouldn’t hurt to show that off in my individual session, which I take as a compliment.

I throw a few spears, just enough to get the attention of the Careers and Nine, then learn how to make snares. It helps that I am already good at knots. I have been there for perhaps half an hour when Mako joins me. It is in snares that we finally find an application for his math skills. He knows, almost instinctively, the angles at which things must be set, the length of rope to use, the speed at which things must happen.

At five o’clock, the tall woman gathers us back in the middle of the room and dismisses us, saying the center will open at nine tomorrow and lunch will be provided again.

Mako and I get our own elevator up to the fourth floor, where Mags is dozing on the couch and Finnick is laying flat on his back on the dining table.

Mako and I glance at each other, shrug, and go to our rooms to shower.

When I return to the living area, Finnick is sitting in a chair watching what I instantly know as the highlight reel from last year’s Games. Megary Fallon has just hamstrung the girl from Two. Her killing spree is about to begin. Mags is still napping.

“Talked to your boyfriend today,” Finnick says without looking away from the screen. “He said you stole one of his most loyal sponsors.”

“Sponsors that he’s known for what?” I do some quick math. “Seven whole years now?” Those Games were longer ago than I thought.

“Doesn’t take long to get attached to some of those deep pockets. Should I be concerned that you did not object to me calling him your boyfriend and that we were talking about the same person?”

“I don’t see why you should be.”

Megary Fallon just threw an axe so hard she didn’t even bother trying to remove it from the boy from Eleven’s chest.

“Okay. At least we’re on the same page about it.”

“So, sponsors then?”

“Yeah,” he finally looks at me. “Nothing huge yet, but some real interest. Of course, nobody’s promised anything, because they don’t know what you’ll need without seeing the arena. Don’t expect anything until probably the morning after the bloodbath, realistically. You’ll be moving around, finding a rhythm, experiencing the first day of everything, and the audience will be learning too. But that second day we can kind of get going, with basics at least. Send you a little water if you haven’t found any yet, matches, maybe a blanket, stuff like that. Usually we don’t get out the fun stuff until at least a week in.”

I nod, then frown. “When you say fun stuff-”

“I don’t think you’ll be getting a trident. People like you, but not that much. Besides, I figured out how much that cost later, and I can’t believe anyone liked me that much. But you’ll probably get an actual meal, any medicine you need, maybe some night vision glasses. Those are fun.”

Mako enters the room, rubbing his hair with a towel. “Isn’t that how that boy from Eight won?”

Finnick nods. “The dark year, yeah. He was the only one who knew what the glasses were for. Everybody had a pair, just didn’t know what to do with them, or got them broken somehow because they didn’t value them enough to be careful. I’ll try and get you kids a pair. They’re always useful.”

On the screen, Megary Fallon dislodges the weight-bearing column from under the stone building that provided some of the only shade in the whole arena. The stones crash down, burying two tributes. Mags wakes with a start.

“Hungry?” Finnick says.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The next two days pass in a rush. I visit every station in the training center. I am not good at knife throwing (the trainer tells me it is probably because I grew up spear throwing, and the two require very different techniques, so no one is good at both) but I am decent at hand-to-hand combat and wrestling (I attribute this to years of hauling in nets full of fish—it builds upper body strength). I make sure to revisit the edible plants station for at least a few minutes both days, to review and make sure I am retaining at least some knowledge.

The last morning of training arrives rather suddenly. Mags wakes me early to make sure I have time for breakfast before going down to the training center for individual assessments. I eat my standard breakfast of cream cheese rolls and bacon and whatever fruit I can eat without Finnick winking at me. Finnick and Mags send us downstairs on our own, Finnick saying they really must start getting promises out of sponsors, and that he needs to capitalize on the sponsors (apparently there are several now) that we have stolen from other districts.

Mako and I sit in a small room off the training center with the other tributes. They call us in, one at a time. First the boy from One, whose name I learn is Farroe when they summon him. Then his female counterpart. Then Tychus and Andromeda from Two. Watching them in the training center has put them at the top of my hit list, but I suspect the feeling is mutual. Then Three, and then, “Mako Silther, District Four.”

Mako stands, walks confidently out of the little room, and like the others before him, does not re-enter. There must be another exit they are funneling us through on the way out. After fifteen minutes, the voice says, “Annie Cresta, District Four.”

I haven’t decided what I am going to do yet. Mags suggested throwing spears. Finnick agreed, but warned that just throwing spears might not be flashy enough. As I enter the main room of the training center, I see that they have rearranged overnight, clearing out the middle, leaving tables of weapons in front of appropriately-ranged targets. And then I notice that off to one side, the agility course is there. It has been altered enough to make it a fresh challenge, and I know what I am going to do.

I run to the closest target dummies—the throwing knives—and hurriedly drag them to the agility course. I place them around the outside at places I think I will be able to show off my aim, quick thinking, and ability to multi-task, then grab all five spears and begin the agility course.

I climb a rope ladder with one hand, the other arm busy wrapped around the spears. At the top, I hurl one spear into the throat of the first dummy. I scurry across the balance beam, throwing the second spear into the second dummy (a stomach shot, but still a kill), then leap to the next platform. I sprint across what I have been calling the wobble sticks, platforms only big enough for one foot, spaced far enough apart to where you have to take running strides to get across them, and not quite stable. Halfway across, I throw the third spear into the third dummy. Another stomach shot, but I am fine with that considering I was throwing from the wobble sticks. I reach the next platform easily. From there, it is a ten-foot drop to the floor, where they have at least put a crash pad. I drop down quickly, land in a forward roll with the two remaining spears perpendicular to my torso, so I can roll around them, then quickly stab the dummy in front of me in the gut. I jerk the spear back out, scramble up another rope ladder, and throw the spear into another dummy. It lodges in one of the eyes, which I find disturbing but oddly satisfying. I sprint another balance beam, then grab the rope at the end and swing down. I make sure to jump at an angle so the rope swings me forward but my trajectory curves back toward the course at an angle. I land running and hurl the last spear at the first dummy. The spear sails through the air, and for a sickening moment I think I have aimed too high. Then the spear buries itself in the back of the dummy’s head, knocking it down with a plasticky clatter. I smile, then turn back to the Gamemakers and give them a bow.

As I leave the room through a side door, I can hear them talking to each other. I can’t make out their words, but if tone is anything to judge by, they are impressed.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Back in our living area, I tell Mags and Mako how it went. Mags applauds. Mako gives me an enormous smile and says, “Well done. Really, I’m kind of annoyed I didn’t think of that, but I’m sure the Gamemakers loved it.”

“What’d you do?”

“Tied the biggest net I could in five minutes, spent the next five throwing it at dummies to show them I can aim the thing, and then threw spears.”

Finnick returns in time for supper. He says he has been out getting us sponsors all day, but something in his eyes doesn’t look like he was rubbing elbows with Panem’s richest gamblers.

We eat a leisurely meal. Casca joins us for the first time since our arrival, and I learn this is because he will be helping train us tomorrow.

“No training center,” he says, ladling beef stew over a bowl of rice. “Tomorrow night you have your interviews with Caesar, so we’ll spend the day helping you get ready for those.”

“Get ready?” Mako says, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t you think we can answer a handful of questions on our own?”

Casca opens his mouth but Finnick cuts him off. “I know you can answer questions, but the point of the interviews is to show the Capitol and all your potential sponsors who you are. You’ve got a lot of sponsors committed already, they just won’t promise an amount or item until they see your scores, which Mags thinks will be good, and the interview is your time to wow them into giving even more money. It’s the time to show off your personality, which is what wins people over. Nobody but the Gamemakers gets to see what happens in the training center, so this is your time to impress the populace.”

“Got it.”

“So we’re going to spend all day on that?” I ask.

“However long your prep teams let us,” Casca says.

“Scores!” Finnick leaps up to adjust the volume on the broadcast.

Caesar Flickerman beams out at us. “Ladies and gentlemen of Panem, tonight we are here to announce the scores of the twenty-four tributes of this, the Seventieth Hunger Games!” He pauses here to allow for the cheers and applause of the small live audience allowed in the broadcast studio. “As you know, for the last four days, our tributes have been training hard, honing old skills and developing new ones, and just this morning, they presented their skills to our panel of judges. Let’s see them now.” A picture of the boy from One appears on the screen next to Caesar. “From District One, Farroe, a ten.”

“That’s not super encouraging,” Mako says.

“Don’t worry about it, One and Two always score high,” Finnick shushes him.

“From District One, Taffeta, a nine. From District Two, Tychus, a nine.”

The girl from Two gets a ten, Three get a seven and a five.

“From District Four, Mako, an eight.”

Finnick nods at Mako, “Good job.”

Mako nods in thanks, grinning.

“From District Four, Annie, a ten.”

In our excitement we miss the scores from Five, but they will be on again later.

“You two are making my job easy!” Finnick slaps both of us on the back. “You beautiful, tall, barnacle heads!”

The rest of the tributes have solidly average scores, most falling between five and eight. Jilly, the girl from Nine, scores a nine. The boy from Eleven, who I still can’t believe is old enough to be in the Games, and the girl from Twelve both score a four. The thought of writing them off doesn’t even cross my mind. I’ve seen enough low-scoring tributes win to know better.

“Well folks, there you have it. And I’ll see you tomorrow night when we finally get to meet our tributes!” Caesar signs off.

Casca leaves with barely a “good night,” and Mags goes to bed soon after.

I get up and grab the plate of cream cheese rolls. “How many of these do you think we’ve eaten?” I ask Finnick, offering him the plate.

He takes a roll, scrutinizes it, then says, “I’m not sure, but I think if you cut me, it would be cream cheese instead of blood.”

I snort and accidentally grab Mako’s hand instead of a roll. I jerk back. “Sorry, didn’t see you going for one.” Actually I didn’t even realize he was still there. Usually he leaves when Mags does.

“So you’ve decided to stay up and strategize with us. Or are you planning on watching tonight’s highlight reel?”

“Just want to make sure I’m not missing anything vital. I think we all need to be on the same page when we go into the arena,” Mako says.

Finnick nods.

“Alright,” I say, “So far we’ve decided that, surprise surprise, One and Two are the biggest threats, as well as Jilly and the boy from Seven.”

“And Three,” Finnick adds. “Never discount Three, no matter what scores they get.”

“After what happened last year, I’m not discounting anyone.” Mako takes a bite of cream cheese roll. “I see why you two wait until I go to bed to eat these. Less to share.”

We sit in silence for a moment, the replay of the scores running quietly in the background, then Finnick says, “I want you two to stick together in the arena. Don’t do anything stupid that’ll tip people off to your relationship, but watch each other’s backs.”

We nod.

“And the cornucopia?” Mako asks.

“Go for it. If anyone can handle it, it’s you two.”

“And then find water,” I say.

Finnick nods. “And don’t be afraid to pick up allies once you’re in the arena. It happens quite a lot that you find a pretty valuable short-term team up, especially with those kids from some of the poorer districts. They’ll need allies, and they always bring something surprising to the table. Of course, if they stay away from you, don’t hunt them down and beg to be friends, but if they approach you, let it happen. As for sponsorships, I’ll keep you supplied with what you need. I’m not sending a ton of food in the first two days because I can’t go spending all your sponsorship money right out of the gate. We have to save it for when you really need something, like medicine or matches or a sleeping bag. But I’ll send you a little something every day to remember me by.”

Mako laughs. “I’m not sure we could forget you if we wanted to, Finnick.”

I laugh too. “Don’t worry, I don’t think I want to forget you quite yet.”

“Thanks, I feel so loved.” Finnick takes the last cream cheese roll and heads for the bedrooms. “Don’t stay up too late,” he calls over his shoulder, “I need you to be pretty tomorrow.”

Mako and I watch the back half of the scores, and this time after Caesar signs off, a highlight reel begins. I decide to watch at least until I remember who the victor is, because the scenery isn’t immediately recognizable. It is what has become standard fare, mostly forest, with one fun geographical item on one side to spice things up. This one is evergreen trees growing out of rocky hillsides with a sizable river running about halfway between the cornucopia and one edge of the arena. After the wide shot of the arena, the camera shows a close-up of each tribute as the starting clock ticks down. Halfway through, I see her. These are Cashmere’s Games, and impressive though she is, her style matches the topography of the arena: standard fare.

I stand up. “You’re not going to watch this, are you?”

“So what if I am? Does it bore you? I supposed you’re headed down to the first level right now,” he spits.

“What is your problem?” I snap at him. “This isn’t like you!”

“And I didn’t think it was like you to flirt with the enemy, but here we are!”

“Flirting with the enemy?” Is that really what this is about? “Because I flirted back, once? You know that doesn’t matter, right?”

“I know what we’re trying to do, but it still hurt, watching you two. I thought we might spend our last week, I don’t know, at least sort of enjoying each other’s company, but I see you’re ready to move on!”

“Move on? Mako, in two weeks at least one of us will be dead, and obviously we can’t spend what little time we have left the way we’d like to. I’ve just accepted it. And I’m not moving on! I haven’t done anything, and I wasn’t planning on it, but I do want to live a little during my last few days, and if that means eating cream cheese rolls till I burst and flirting with the most beautiful man alive, then I am sorry, but frankly, I have no regrets.” I stop and take a deep breath. “This isn’t how I wanted things to end either, but it’s what’s happening.”

“Finnick was right,” Mako says, “Alliances do break themselves.”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

I lay in bed, fuming. I don’t know why I am so mad about this. Mako made some valid points. In fact, I agree with him: I am in the wrong on this one. I probably shouldn’t visibly enjoy Gloss’s attention as much as I have been. I blame it on the stress. There is something freeing about being fairly certain you are headed speedily toward your death. It doesn’t seem to be a good kind of freedom, but it feels like more than I have ever had.

When I finally fall asleep, I dream that I am back working on the fishing boat, but every time I mention someone by name, that person appears and pushes me off the boat and into the sea.

****

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#wrey writes #the hunger games #thg: tiger shark #annie cresta #finnick odair #mentions of canon typical violence #slight innuendos

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palialaina · 9 months

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If I gave Jel a heart attack when he saw how short I'd cut my hair, he sort of returned the favor with these little cuties!

I came to ask his advice on what I should wear to do all the mining I needed to do (I forgot I could buy the iron bars I needed. Always gotta do things the hard way, that's me!), spent about ten minutes reminding him that hair grows back, and then another ten squealing over these little darlings.

I have no idea what I should name any of them! Most of them are chilling at home while I'm out, but the nocturnal one is bold and cuddly, and just climbed right on up my shoulder!

Jel said he couldn't keep them at his shop because they get into everything, so I said I'd bring them home, and they could stay with me. He was limp with relief from that, lemme say!

Solving Jina's riddle gave me a headache. I'm not a very good water-personality, I thnk... Or maybe Jina's just smarted than me. I found the second clue entirely by accident, when I tripped on the giant planter in the middle of town. Apparently, it was a fountain back in the day!

So there was that part figured out. Lark came by at that point, and after I explained what I was doing, they suggested the solution to the last part of the riddle! Jina said we should get to see it first, so we went in and wow.

Apparently it was a university--and somehow, I know what that is. How, not a clue, but I know--and this was their library.

Was this whole valley just one really big school?

We found a preserved note among all the books--and man, resisting the urge to take some home was hard--but it doesn't really shed much light on the situation. What the heck did humans do?

The library made us both sad, so we left and split up after, but man. Now I have more to think about that ever...

Less dramatic news, Uncle B said I was finally ready to be part of the Gardening Guild, and I knew he had blueberry seeds!

Also apple tree seeds. But I can't afford either one yet.

It's kind of nice no longer really needing to go anywhere other than where I want again. There's a bunch of little things to do, but I'm not stressed out of Jina's riddle, and I'm kind of shrugging about the whole Night Sky Temple stuff now. I need my glow worm farm to start giving me glow worms, and I need to find these caves in Bahari where I can actually fish for things (Is it just the mines? That can't be it, right?), but mostly I'm just kind of... relaxing again.

Well, sort of. I will earn those darn blueberry bush seeds, Uncle B, just you watch!

#palia #palia online #singularity 6 #berry plays palia #palia game #palia journaling #palia journey #palia mmo #Palia roleplaying

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astridachyls · 2 years

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My brother is ruining our family. I need an advice.

Hi, i have a brother that is purely self-centered. We cannot act the way we want to when he's around. He acts like he's the boss of this house. He disrespects our parents—shouted at us and he doesn't consider our father his father. His ego is too high to the point that for the past 7 months, he's not talking to us (his siblings). The person that he has good relationship with is our mother, he only talks to her. He's always angry when talking to us, his family, but with other people he acts like an angel. When it comes to his friends and brothers (he's part of fraternity), he's always under.

He's always fighting our father when they're having interactions. He gets angry even in little things—he's making everything big deal to him even if it shouldn't. We don't understand him anymore. He's been such that ever since high school, he's now college. He stopped for 2 years because he cannot bare to survive online class. Our Mom pleaded him to continue his studies, but he never followed no one. Now that he's starting to go to school, our mom is so stressed out because he's so problematic at his school. He always give our Mom problems even our she's tired from her work and she's already turning 56 years old and a breadwinner of the family (my 2 sisters do not have jobs yet because the first one is traumatized by her last job and the other one is fresh graduate from college)

I'm just too tired of this set-up. He and my father used to sleep in our living room, but in a different sofa (we only have 2 bedrooms; our moms and ours–an only girl's bedroom; me and my 2 sisters sleep there). Now, because my brother always fights my father when they are in the same place, our father had no choice but to also sleep in our bedroom (but he's on small sofa-bed) that was supposed to be an only girl's bedroom (we are all adult/ young adults already). This room is too crowded and we do not have our own spaces and privacy. It is also our work station and study station. We annot focus on our designated tasks everyday because this room is too crowded and noisy when all of us are awake. Our tv was also forced to transfer in here because my great brother gets angry when my father is watching tv in sala which is our he's only entertainment. He cussed every little flaw that he finds in this house. He never contributed and help our family. Our father which is already a senior citizen is the one who always do the laundry, cooking of food, throwing of trash, everything. While he was acting like an entitled asshole prince. We can't take his toxicity anymore. We all wish that he will vanish someday and never comeback again. We will be happier family when that day comes. He'so ungrateful and doesn't even go to church and pray. He do not believe in God.

He gave us all mental and emotional trauma and he doesn't even know and care about that. The amount of pain that he put in this family is insane. We are all broken on the inside because of him. We all want to get out of this house just to not experience this everyday hell life with him. We just want peace, solitude, freedom and happines in this family. We do not really know why is he doing all of this to his own family. I cannot count how many times I saw my mom cried because of the life situation of our family right now. Our father is tired of him–we are all tired of him. Everyday, we try to be strong and stay still even with all the problems that we are going through right now. It feels like it's unending suffering. I just want a happier life, why can't I just have it? It's too mich pain. I cannot bare to live this life anymore. I want more for my mom and dad and this family except him. We deserve better. What should I do about this? I don't know what to do anymore.

#family #family problems #toxic family #toxic behavior #toxic brother #anger issues #self centered #brother #pain #suffering #problems #struggle #toxic #need advice

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throwyourselfintotheunknown · 2 months

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Kesha — Yandere Alphabet

read more about kesha here! this edition of the yandere alphabet was created by @/dear-yandere.

cw: unhealthy behavior, obsession, blackmail, kidnapping (mention), choking (implied)

⋄ affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Kesha loves praising you, telling you how wonderful your voice sounds. They play your favorite pieces, and will compose an entire symphony for you. He’s not a very handsy person in general, but with you he feels the need to constantly be in contact with you, specifically with your throat. He loves placing his hands around your neck as you talk, watching the way your lips move and try to swallow your nervousness.

Kesha would do anything to protect your voice, so you will find him constantly making you tea or massaging your shoulders to ease the tension there. He’s very protective of your voice.

⋄ jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Honestly, no. Kehsa isn’t the jealous type in the “no one can interact with you but me” because to him your talent is something that needs to be shared with the world. He wants to turn you into his project, his personal salvation, and he hopes that by doing so he will one day be as free as you are (lmao). When he does get jealous though, the rare and few times, it’s because someone is trying to understand you. Dissecting your fears, your hopes, your dreams, your aspirations, promising you that you will be successful in life. No! You don’t need anyone else but Kesha to tell you that, and you’re not perfect, not yet. You need him to make you perfect, and you don’t need to rely on anyone but him for advice.

No no no, you’re for show. You can be paraded around as much as you want, be in the spotlight, but that’s all you can be. Something to be shown off, something to brag about.

How he deals with his jealously always depends on the specific situation/person, but please know he would never do anything to harm you. But if you see the person you were talking to on TV, arrested for something you know they couldn’t have done — well, perhaps you need to reevaluate your ability to properly analyze people. There are dangerous people who will do anything to get close to you, don’t you see? How could you say Kesha wasn’t doing this in your best interest.

⋄ mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?.

Hmm, to a degree. “True colors” as in creepy and obsessed? I think everyone thinks of him as the “dark artist”, but I don’t think people really know how deep that actually goes. At least, they don’t think he’s bad enough to manipulate and blackmail you to stay with him. (He would never kidnap you, he’d be taking your freedom! With blackmail at least you have the choice of running away, even if it doesn’t seem like it). Anyway, he’s much more kind with you and patient. He dotes on you lovingly and gives you all the affection. It’s a bit scary how normal he can be.

To the rest of the population he barely even notices their presence, doesn’t even spare a glance in their direction. He knows that the elite of the elite attend Howell University, but in his mind they are nothing more than gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

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toopretty2live · 1 year

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Hey Pip! How are you?

I’d really appreciate your advice on my situation. I am a 20 years old woman, found the k!nk world way too early (around 14). Had my first & only relationship and s£xual partner at 19.

At first, when I was actually exploring with my partner all felt exciting, like i was actually into it. But I soon realised sex doesn’t feel good to me. It’s scary and painful and I always wanted it to be over quickly. After I ended my relationship, I realised I was offering s£x so that my partner would have a reason to stay. He was almost never asking for sex directly but I kept proposing it because I was scared that if I didn’t give it to him, he would leave. It felt like i was trading my body for the feeling that someone cared for me. I was also using it as a form of self harm and never safe worded even tho it always hurt badly. Now, after over a year of celibacy, I feel like a kid. I feel like I shouldn’t be watching s£x scenes in movies, my brain is literally telling me “this is something adults do, it’s not for you yet”. Same goes for kissing, i don’t perceive it as something appropriate for me to do, I feel like a kid. I also realised I don’t need a daddy s£xually, I literally want a daddy. I want someone to look at me with adoration and want to care for me without wanting to have s£x with me.

I want to get out of this state because I want to be normal. I want a healthy relationship with someone who is actually interested in love. But no one my age wants that, and if I go out with someone over 25 (at which age one is more likely to start wanting the serious stuff), they’re a creep. I feel like one day I’ll wake up and I’ll be 30, in celibacy for 11 years, hugging a stuffy and wanting a daddy to love me. It so happened that I recently shared a bed with some friends, then my cousin, then mom, all of them said I cry in my sleep. I think I’m seriously damaged by watching p*rn at a young age, and creating an unhealthy view of s*x. Now I am a 20yo baby craving comfort.

How do I start my healing process? I don’t have access to therapy:(( my insurance won’t cover it

Therapy is the number one suggestion I have for you. I understand you may not have access to therapy as Ins won’t cover it, (it won’t cover mine until my deductible so I get it) BUT, there are MANY online resources available for budget friendly therapy. To me, it sounds like you are truly going through a lot and I don’t want to incorrectly assume that you have been through a lot of trauma but when I read your ask I could feel the trauma all over it. I’m so sorry you are going through what you are.

My other two suggestions for you would be to journal journal journal AND there is a book called Healing Through Words by Rupi Kaur and it is a guided journal but the prompts are amazing for the healing process. I hope that helps even a little bit. I will be sending you love and healing.

#ask

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alyjojo · 1 year

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Advice to Work on Yourself 👩🏻‍🎓 in April 2023: Aquarius

The Fool - Knight of Cups - 9 Wands & 2 Pentacles

Regarding: 2 Wands

Oh this is a good one. There’s a single energy about this, it may not apply for everyone. 222 shows you as being unsure and needing to make decisions. 999 shows you as independent and really focused on that, anxious about it even. Or giving it up 💯

I don’t see a *particular* person here, some may have one and some may not, but your issue with love is actually with yourself. You don’t want it! You’ll jump right into some passionate fling with no hesitation, The Fool & Knight of Wands, passion is fine with you. But Knight of Cups? 2 Cups? Wtf is THAT? I’m supposed to just give all of me to someone else? What is “merging”? Um, no. It’s not in your vocabulary. Casual is fine because there are no long term expectations.

For some of you, it’s possible you’ve done this before and have gotten burned. There could’ve been a situation with cheating, or some player energy in the past that’s caused a painful ending. Either for you or from you. You’re having to learn to be more committed. Make a decision & stick with it. Date one person, and that’s your person. Or it isn’t. Having options is cool if things don’t work out, but having options can mean you’re not giving your all because you know you have them. If that makes sense. You’re afraid of real, genuine, intimacy, because you don’t understand it. And it’s like unlocking a government bunker with you. Security clearance bitch, no one gets it! You either have an opportunity for something real already, or one is coming, but you need to open yourself up to it if you want it at all. It’s not couple vs. independence for Aquarius, you can still be independent in a couple, while also being a solid pair, and anyone deserves that from you if they’re giving that to you back. Your artist card is telling you to open up about the fears & worries you have regarding this to your person, be vulnerable, learn to be comfortable in your feminine energy too. Softness. Submission. It’s not in you to completely *merge* with another person, and your masculine energy will always take the wheel sometimes, the right person will respect that and consciously shift in and out of their own energies as you do. It’s work.

If this isn’t about love specifically for you, then it’s about making genuine connections of all kinds. In some way, you’re blocking your own opportunities by avoiding depth in your connections.

Animal Oracle: Zebra 🦓

“Let go of your fear and know that you are safe and protected at all times.”

Whenever you venture into unfamiliar territory, it’s quite natural to feel some trepidation. Your mind can create all sorts of scenarios as to what can go wrong. Doubts and uncertainties may arise, and the path can seem fraught with challenges and sometimes even danger. You may find yourself stuck at times, fearful about moving ahead. Yet much of what we label as fear isn’t actually fear. True fear is a vital, instinctual response to any life-threatening situation, and is triggered not only by circumstances and events, but even more so by what you think about those circumstances or events.

Stay relaxed yet vigilant, trusting that nothin can truly harm you and your body will provide sensory information if there is any actual danger. If there is truly a threat, your instincts will tell you what to do. Whenever you feel an exaggerated sense of fear triggered mainly by your thoughts, one that has little or no basis in reality, take a few slow deep breaths. Call upon Spirit, reach out to close ones for reassurance to help you feel grounded and centered. Recall times in the last when you did feel frightened or were in danger and not only survived but came through intact. You can also re-label fear and call it excitement, as the two emotions are very similar in they way they manifest in the body. Most of all, trust your spirit guides, your instincts, your friends to watch out for you.

Artist Oracle: YAYOI KUSAMA

- Your soul is composed of the same dots as the universe.

- Distinguish yourself from your mirror image.

- Show them your hallucinations.

Advice:

- Develop Emotional Resistance

Charms:

Alice 🐇 on Knight of Cups shows you could see romance, emotion, or genuine loving energy as “childish” or illusory in some way. Make believe. Your inner child could need some love, or you should approach love as a child would, eagerly, curiously, & with an open heart.

Hamsa Hand (up) 🪬 on Ace of Pentacles protects you from evil, greed, hatred, jealousy, negativity from others. Wearing one could be beneficial for you. You avoid deep connections because of worries about these things, which you’ve probably experienced (we all have), but Spirit is saying you’re spiritually protected. Let them handle it. By protecting yourself, you’re blocking the good trying to come to you too. And this is the Ace of Pentacles, it’s a genuine opportunity with the potential to become a solid foundation that lasts, there’s nothing to fear with this.

#aquarius tarot reading #advice #advice to work on yourself #april 2023 #Aquarius #tarot #tarotblr

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kitcatimezz · 2 years

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Okay this is all very random, but I just finished Brooklyn 99 for the 2nd time this month (yes I know copoganda shit LET ME LIVE IN A SIMPLE FANTASY WORLD OF GOOD POLICE, BAD CRIMINALS, AND FOUND FAMILY OKAY) and I NEED to rant about it. I'm just gonna point out my favourite relationships in the show (not in order)

- I LOVE Jake and Holt's relationship. It's mentioned jokingly throughout the series, but Captain Holt really is the father figure Jake so desperately needed. When the series started, Jake was an immature manchild who would eat candyburritos for breakfast, be in crushing debt due to barely understanding how bills worked, and who ran on complete impulse at all times. Having gone through his parent's messy divorce, his dad being Da Worst and his mom seemingly absent, he had few people around to show him how to be... a functioning adult. And then Holt comes in. Already fully grown up to a comical degree, married, captain of a precinct, overly interested in classical music and globe collecting. Yet, he too had had his struggles, being a gay black detective in the 80's and 90's was hard, and we can see how hardened and serious it made him. Throughout the series, the two constantly put their back into helping each other out of bad situations, for no other reason but because they care about each other. Holt gives Jake advice and guidance, an example, but Jake also forces Holt to have fun, ending in Holt even cracking jokes sometimes, and also forcing him to face more emotions, like when he made the captain talk to his mom, or during fights with his husband. In the last episode, Holt tells him how he heard how Jake could deduce any case, except the one about growing up, and how, if he'd had a son that turned out the way Jake did, he would be very proud. That genuinely brought tears to my eyes...

- One of the few couples in anything life action, Jake and Amy. I won't dive too deep into it, but ahg they are the best. Sure, in the beginning it was the classic 'pulling pigtails is flirting' tactic, but even then all the teasing is genuinely friendly, like yes Jake might make fun of Amy, but it never crosses a line, and he's overall genuinely supportive and trusting of her. Even when he starts to like her while she's dating someone else, he's honest about everything without it ever making it her problem. I love how when they finally start dating, their characters don't change much. You know the trope of 'high strung woman needs to find a man to go loose'? This show says no and instead makes it that every nerdy type A thing Amy does is actually something Jake (and the others) like about her, in the same way that Jake can still be a goofball with her and still make it feel like they fit. I love how much Jake is willing to sacrifice for her, how it pushes him to grow, how they're always honest with each other, how Amy starts using Jake's catchphrases casually, how they make an effort to understand each other's interests. Their wedding was amazing, and having watched it as many times as I have, I sometimes notice them wearing identical rings, even in episodes where they're split up and don't interact, it's just casually there. I was genuinely invested in them wanting and eventually getting a kid. And then at the end, when Jake decides to be a stay at home dad to be with his ' little buddy', letting his wife now chief be their main income, sure its progressive, but it doesn't feel forced, it really fits in their arcs. It was so cute how they constantly reaffirm that they're a team together. It's just so cute bro, I want them to be my parents, please give me healthy standards for relationships!!!

- Also, Amy and Rosa are best friends!! There's one episode in the beginning where Amy tries to compete with Rosa over something, and Rosa tells her to quit it, they're the only female detectives around, they gotta have each other's backs. And they DO!! during one of the heists, Rosa joins on Amy's team and is all ready for all her dorky overpreparing, when Rosa gets impulsively married within a week, she counts on it that Amy can throw it all together in the short time. There's an episode where the two of them catch some criminal together, and it is so cooool!! And then in that last episode, how they cling glasses and say 'I'm glad I could spend my time here with you' before saying some genuine 'I love you's' in a completely platonic but such an important way. It just feels so genuine, how Amy so clearly admires Rosa's strength, and how Rosa's as tough as she is, yet still has that clear soft spot for Amy.

- Also Jake and Rosa! their episodes together are usually the best when it comes to the cases. With others, it usually centers around the relationships, but Jake and Rosa are so passionate about being detectives, the case is the core, through which they then learn some emotional lesson and connect. I love how they've been friends for years, yet it's never even considered that one could have potential romantic feeling to the other just because 'boy and girl'. They're just completely platonic and seeing them work and support each other is always amazing. I loved how supportive Jake was of her when she was coming out, how they're always super supportive of each other. And then in the last season when Rosa leaves the police to become a PI to investigate police brutality, while jake himself was still with the police. I loved how they handled the conflict between the two, while still remaining friends in the end.

- Also, Rosa and Charles! In the beginning, it was the lame 'guy pining after girl out of his league trope', and I remember watching it the first time and rolling my eyes at it. But then, Charles actually gets over it, and they become genuine friends. Like, they get genuinely close and casually laugh together and support each other and all that. I love how Rosa asked him as a bridesmaid that one time, and whenever Charles calls her 'RoRo'

- Also, Holt and Amy's! Yes Holt is a father figure to Jake, but he's something similar to Amy. At the start, Amy is completely desperate for any kind of validation from an authorised person, and she often tries too hard to please, they sometimes felt a bit one-sided. But over time she grows less insecure and at the end is able to casually have an argument with someone she seemingly worshipped in the beginning. I like how Holt often acknowledges that he intends to mentor her, how he's the first to see her dream of becoming Captain and is all ready to lead her to that, and how much she looks up to him.

- What else can I say, uh... Jake and Charles! I love how much Charles cares about Jake (sometimes a bit too much maybe) and you see Jake being a bit uncomfortable with this at times. And sometimes it seems to be kinda one sided, but then the next the two of them talk it out and we see how much Jake genuinely cares about his friendship with Charles, and it seems that he just has a harder time with casual affection like that.

- Also in the last season, Holt and Kevin!! I'd been waiting and anticipating a Vowel Renewal since that one episode, but I didn't expect a full season long arc of a failing marriage being picked up again because even though things are hard they love each other!! And then Amy and Rosa bringing them back together in the rain!! Holt being ready to give up his job, only for Kevin to say he never wanted him to sacrifice that much, how they're so willing to give for each other. It was so gooooodd!!

- Oh oh!! And PB and J! Pontiac Bandit, aka Doug Judy, and Jake!! The cop and the criminal who promises to help catch another criminal before going to jail, only to slip away himself in the last moment. Their friendship is so good and I understand its a one episode a season deal but Damn those episodes are always in the top and I wish we had more. And then how they ended it, how Jake 'accidentally' gave him a way out of prison after finally catching him.. I died bro. So cute.

All in all, love this show. Watched it at least 10 times. Will watch for another 30 or so!!

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wheelsup · 3 years

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kissing lessons

summary: one of your classic movie nights with spencer turns into a learning opportunity

A/N: this is really fluffy, but the whole story centers around kissing. use your own judgement! i’d say it’s at worst 16+

category: spencer reid x gn!reader, fluff (with a bit of spice) best friends to lovers (sorta)

warnings: just kissing, a brief implication at the end

word count: 3k

Occasionally, the team will spend an extra night in their hotel before heading home from a case. Be it due to poor weather conditions, or the fact that your case wrapped in the dead of night, the reasons for flying don’t ever matter. Because the majority of the times when you have to stay that extra night, you and Spencer have sleepovers.

The routine is pretty much the same. You’ll stock up on gas station snacks – sour peach rings for Spencer, salted microwave popcorn for you – and reconvene in one of your hotel rooms. Preferably, whichever of you got the better deal that week – a bigger tv, a room further away from the ice machine. And you’d rent the cheapest movie available on-demand, the options spanning from low-budget sci-fi to poorly written rom-coms. That night, the viewing fell under the latter category.

Spencer perched at the foot of your bed with both feet tucked under his legs, criss-cross style, while you laid against the headboard to watch. Every now and then, you tossed out your commentary and he’d ignore it. He always says you’re too critical of movies and you’re of the belief that he’s too forgiving.

“I don’t think they should end up together,” you mumbled, words slurring around your mouthful of popcorn. You pulled a face right as the movie approached the romantic climax, after spending the past ninety minutes actively rooting against the couple. Spencer ignored you, pretending to be engrossed in the movie to spite your disparagement of it. “They both suck.”

You groaned, slumped further against the pillows, and shoved your sock-clad toes under Spencer’s left thigh in a call for attention. He jumped at the intrusion, but ultimately, your efforts were futile.

And then the big kiss commenced, and your booing finally piqued his interest. “Gross! I feel bad for people who kiss like that.”

A small bell went off in his head and he took a curious glance at you over his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” he asked. He stopped chewing and the piece of candy in his mouth pushed out his cheek, giving him an adorably innocent look. His brows scrunched in the middle and his nose had a tiny crinkle in it, utterly confused.

You scoffed and matched his expression. “Are you serious?” You jerked your head in the direction of the television and Spencer whipped his head back, squinting. He couldn’t figure out what you were pointing out, what it was that was so obviously wrong to you. “Spencer, he’s swallowing her chin!”

Oh. He hadn’t noticed.

Feeling dumb, he muttered, “I thought that’s how you’re supposed to kiss…” It wasn’t the deepest confession to admit to you that he lacked some knowledge when it came to kissing, but he still refused to look at you as he said it.

“Spencer, please tell me you haven’t been kissing people like that.” You narrowed your eyes at the back of his head, sitting up straighter in bed. He shrugged and lowered his head, focusing on his snack as his fingers dug into the packet of gummy rings in his lap.

He popped another piece into his mouth, pretending to be occupied with eating so as to avoid your prying. “I dunno.”

It didn’t occur to you until that moment that Spencer might have learned everything he knows about kissing – among other things – solely through watching movies. How else could he look at that and think it’s normal? And you’re left wondering if he’s ever even practiced it with another living human. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it, but unfortunately, that only heightened your interest. You had to know.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” You kept your voice low, your tone implying that you were ready to exchange this secret with him. You wouldn’t judge him if he admitted he hadn’t.

He scoffed loudly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you’re positive he rolled his eyes too. “Yeah, of course.” Then quietly, he added on, “But it was only like… for four seconds.”

You nodded thoughtfully, considering how this new piece of information adjusted your existing view of Spencer. For some reason, you couldn’t tell if you actually expected him to be experienced or not.

He didn’t exactly scream that he’d… gotten around, for lack of better words, but you’re still surprised to learn that he’s barely done it at all. You supposed he was objectively cute, that maybe you could see it if he weren’t your best friend. And yeah, he’s a little awkward, but he’s smart and kind, so he has three great things going for him, and you’re surprised more people haven’t swooped him up yet.

Your lips curled down in thought, brows raised in curiosity. “And was it good?” It was a genuine enough question, because you’ve never really thought about Spencer Reid and kissing in the same sentence before. As it turned out, there was a lot of missing information relating to those two things.

“I don’t know! I didn’t get, like, a feedback form,” he grunted, angling his shoulder even further away from you. If you could’ve seen him, you’d notice his face boiling and turning red with heat. All this inquiring made him think harder about his … talents … than he’s ever had to before, and he’s not a fan.

You were prepared to do some more digging when the slump in his back made you feel a tinge of guilt. It was your fault he looked so defeated. You pressed too hard, disregarding his boundaries just because you wanted to know more. And now, he was wondering if there was something wrong with him, because you wouldn’t leave it alone.

He barely noticed as you swung your feet from under his thigh and rocked onto your knees, leaning forward to nudge his shoulder with your palm. It hauled his attention out of his thoughts and back into the room. You wanted to apologize, but instead you settled with “I’m sure you’re fine, Spence.”

He nodded unconvincingly. By the glow of the screen, you could see he was still gnawing on the inside of his cheek, focusing his eyes as he played with a loose hangnail on one of his fingers. It made you feel even worse. “Are you actually worried about it?” you asked, laden with concern.

“What if I am bad at it?” He whispered, like saying it too loud would make it true. “And that’s why it’s only happened once?”

A large exhale puffed out of your nose as you weighed your options.

You could go back to your original plan and apologize for setting him down this path of doubt. But that wouldn’t do anything to stop him from worrying, anyway. You could tell him there’s no correlation between the way he kisses and how frequently it’s happened; that you’re sure the reason isn’t because he’s bad. But you don’t know that for sure.

So, fuck it, you thought, grabbing a fistful of his pajama shirt and tugging him closer to you roughly, pressing your lips onto his.

This way, you’d at least have an informed opinion to be able to tell him if he was good or bad.

His lips were softer than you expected – not that you’d thought about them often, they’re just impossibly softer than they look – and invitingly warm. But they were completely stiff.

You could tell he was trying to kiss you back by the way his mouth ferociously moved over yours. He was trying to be a passionate, engaged partner, but he forgot about the aspect of tenderness.

His lips felt like two solid objects just sliding around on your face. They didn’t move in any sort of accordance with yours. There was no push and pull, your lips didn’t mesh perfectly together to form a solitary unit as they moved in unison.

It felt more like his lips were your opponent, putting up an attack and defense play against the actions of your own.

You pulled away, resisting a giggle at his bewildered face. “You’re not so terrible,” you swipe the corner of your mouth, smudged with Spencer’s flavored chapstick, “But it could use some work.”

He was at a loss for words, mouth gaping open as his eyes darted around the room and all over you. Maybe he’d find an explanation for what just happened carved into the walls somewhere or written across your forehead.

What happened was that you kissed him. And he was a little bit bad. Simple as that.

“I-I wasn’t ready!” he stammered, chucking up his hands defensively. He’d process the fact that he’d just made out with his best friend at a later time, right now the bigger concern was the slight cringed look on your face. He sulked and folded his arms.“What was so bad about it?”

“Well,” you scratched the back of your ear, trying to gauge if he’d react well to getting some advice, “my first tip would be to relax your lips.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“And don’t think too hard. You should react to what’s happening in the moment, not worrying about what your next move is gonna be.” You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to envision what that would play out like in a real situation. “You wanna try again?” you offered, figuring he’d learn much faster if he was more hands-on about it.

He nodded, and you leaned in close, waiting for him to go for it. His heart quickened under the pressure of performance, eyes screwing shut as he closed the gap. His mouth smashed into yours as he dove in hard. It was toeing on the side of too harsh, but you let that one slide in hopes it was just a byproduct of his nerves.

You had to tap his knee to remind him to relax, and he loosened some of the tension he had in his lips. He slotted his between yours, allowing them to be pliable to your movements and remembering to react, not plan.

He moved his mouth leisurely against yours, trying to match your pressure and pacing. They actually started moving in time with yours at some point. The kiss took on a shape of its own as he started getting out of his head, letting himself enjoy the kiss for what it was in that exact moment.

It was already better than before. Leaps and bounds better. But then he tried to deepen it, building on its intensity but adding more… something into it. You couldn’t even tell what it was he was trying to do.

“Okay, second tip…” you inhaled sharply, pushing him off of you with a palm against his chest. Whatever it was, it needed to stop. “You kinda do this thing like… where you’re blowing air into my mouth?” You scrunched your nose, punctuating your dislike. “That feels weird. Don’t do that. If anything, do the opposite.”

“I’m supposed to suck the air out of your mouth?” His face contorted, voice already slightly exasperated. He barely understood what the air thing was that you claimed he did. He didn’t realize in the process of trying to add pressure to the kiss, he was just forcibly blowing against your mouth.

“Not literally, no.” You laughed a little, rubbing your palm in a comforting pattern on his chest.”But you can use your lips to suck on mine, or my tongue… just nothing involving the exchange of breath. We’re not in CPR training.”

He eased up a little with your joke, adjusting to your advice he gave it another try. After a few moments, he latched onto your bottom lip with his own, sucking it softly into his mouth. “Yeah, like that,” you mumbled against him, voice pitching high in encouragement. He sucked on it with a little more greed, holding it for a second, then eased up, varying the pressure of his movements just like you did before.

You made a mental note to praise him for that at a later time, deciding to instead part your lips to see if he’d venture into further experimentation.

He caught on quickly. He parted them further, prodding his tongue against them as you opened to allow him entry. Just as you started to really enjoy it, he ran his tongue over the inside of your mouth, moving it fast and roughly like he was a washing machine.

“Stop,” you grimaced, tearing away quickly. You had to swipe your hand over your mouth to get rid of the excess saliva that really shouldn’t have been an issue in the first place, given how brief the frenching was. “Your tongue is way too aggressive.”

Overwhelmed, he tilted his head to the ceiling and let out a frustrated grunt, slapping his hands down to the top of his thighs.

There were too many factors to worry about. He had no idea how you looked at him with a straight face and told him not to think too much when there were a million things he needed to remember all at once; he needed to vary his moves to keep it interesting, but make sure he’s not ruining the flow by changing things up too much, and to be gentle but not timid.

All of this was second nature to you, but it was brand new to Spencer. Could you really blame him for not getting the hang of it right away? You decided to stop your list of critiques short for this round to spare him. He’d get there eventually, but not if he felt discouraged too soon.

“I don’t see why people like it in the first place,” he huffed, his head returning to it’s normal posture. In Spencer’s eyes, there truly wasn’t any appeal to kissing with tongue; it looked sloppy and unnecessary, and as you’d just confirmed, it actually was.

You thought about his statement for a second. There’s a certain allure to it, and you didn’t know how to describe it to him. So instead you cupped his cheeks in both your palms and slid your mouth over his again. As his jaw slacked its tension, you slowly pushed your tongue past his lips and gently pressed it against his own before swirling them together.

You sighed softly into his mouth, running your fingers through his hair and tugging carefully at the ends. He made a small noise against you, something like a whimper, and you swallowed the vibrations of it. As you retreated, you captured his bottom lip between your teeth and gave it a light, teasing tug. You soothed it again with your lips before releasing it, a proud giggle forming in your chest as Spencer chased after your lips as you broke apart.

“That’s why.” You smirked at the dazed look on his face. His eyelids remained closed longer than necessary, still feeling the ghost of your mouth on his and a tingle where your fingers were in his hair.

“Oh.” His voice came out meek as he slowly came back to reality, brows wrinkling up his forehead as he opened his eyes.

He put both his palms down on the mattress, one laying flat on either side of you, and dove forward to resume the kiss right where you left it. A surprised squeak left you as his mouth collided with yours with an insatiable hunger. You brought one hand back to his hair, and he was a goner.

He unfolded his legs from under himself and shuffled onto his knees, following his hands until he practically crawled into your lap. Each of his legs hooked onto either side of your thighs as he hovered over your lap, leaning his body entirely into yours.

The physics of it didn’t hold up; he’s taller than you are, and his chest was too heavy for you to carry. The balance was off center and it sent you tumbling back onto the mattress, bringing him down with you until his chest laid on yours.

It was the perfect force – the weight of him on top of you. He tasted like peach candy and sour sugar, and you found yourself craving more of it.

You shuffled higher up the mattress, giving him space to stretch out his body as he followed yours. One of his hands found your waist, gripping tightly, while he placed the other on the mattress beside your head, using it to steady himself. Sliding your legs out from under him, you wrapped them on the outside of his hips, using them to pull him closer down to you.

It only broke off in moments when both of you absolutely needed to get air, gasping as you pulled apart for brief reprieve before colliding again. He followed every word of your advice, getting better with each passing second until he exceeded expectations by leaps and bounds.

Your fingers weaved through his hair, passionately tugging the wavy strands to angle him against you and igniting his nerves under your touch. A soft moan leaves him and you’re encouraged to tighten your grip on them. His hips bucked reactively at the sensation, and he quickly pulled back, a slight embarrassment creeping up his cheeks. He got too carried away.

You took in his flushed face and swollen, kiss-bruised lips. They’d turned a shade of red brighter than you’ve ever seen them, and it was all you could do not to dive for them again as his tongue sweeped over them, soothing the burning heat you’d left on them.

Before he could apologize for his eagerness, you nudged your nose against his, your smile skimming against his lips. “So what else don’t you know how to do?”

☆

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adorerdraco · 4 years

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Whole Lot of Red ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: Sneaky meet ups with Draco where nobody knows the two of you have a thing for the other until the day he sees someone flirting with you and lets his jealousy get the best of him. AU where its around seventh year and Voldermort never existed so Draco never got traumatized !

Warnings: light smut/hinted smut, jealous/possessive-ish Draco, a little more mature themes

Words: 1.8K

A/N: aging him UP for this one ! and making draco a tad rude bc the way i picture it is just WOW also i like to try to change up the way i write him sometimes :) also couldn’t find this gif anywhere so if it looks low quality its bc i made it >:( i want so badly for him to walk up to me like thaaaat anyways I HOPE THIS IS GOOD

It was a funny thing, feelings, and the way they blossomed in places they had no business being in. Those very specific stomach churning butterflies and skipped heartbeats were unmistakably there every time you found yourself in the Slytherin Prince’s presence. It was a shame really, you had never even given him the time of day prior to the time you were forced to work on a Charms project together but now here you were; completely and undeniably entranced by him.

Your group of y/h friends and you were gathered in the foyer outside the Great Hall, the doors wide open and welcoming students for the lunch that was going to be served in just a few minutes. Your friends were lost in conversation and you couldn’t be happier as your focus darted around the room hoping to spot the platinum mop of hair.

Out of sheer coincidence, a boisterous group of Slytherins had entered the foyer from the direction of the dungeons, all talking loudly and jokingly pushing each other as they came into view. Your eyes landed on the laughing blond in the middle, his toothy grin almost twinkling under the sunlight that streamed in through the large medieval windows. His gaze wandered around the room for a moment before stopping on you, the smile on his face morphing into a smug knowing smirk.

A shivering weakness shot up your legs, your heart doing somersaults in your stomach as you recalled the previous night. It involved you sneaking out of the common room to meet Draco in a dark and hidden corner of the castle in the dead hours of night, his Prefect duties long finished and a looming fear of getting caught by Filch. It was you being backed into said corner, his body flush against your quivering one, a strong hand clamped tightly over your mouth to muffle the whimpers that unwillingly left your mouth as his lips left trails of wet kisses along the exposed skin of your neck and chest. It was his knee in between your legs, pushing you harder against the wall as your hands got tangled in his hair while he held your face in place by your jaw, whispering compliments and desires into your ear with kisses to it in between, smiling coyly to himself when he heard the small gasps of pleasure coming from you.

All this was because of a simple charms project, the two of you forced to spend a couple weeks together where it was constant bickering and malicious teasing until the tension between the two of you had gotten so overwhelmingly strong it was suffocating. It had gotten so unbearable that one day, Draco finally had enough as you were reading something out of your textbook for him, suddenly knocking it out of your hands and scooting closer to you on the shared bench, his minty breath hot against your face and darkening gray eyes flickering from your lips to your widened e/c’s as he whispered a breathless, “can I kiss you?”

Post study make out sessions quickly turned into sneaking away from friends throughout the day which finally led into slipping out of common rooms to meet at night. No one ever noticed nor caught on to the two of you, the both of you keeping it a secret so you wouldn’t have to deal with people’s undesired two cents.

As much as you enjoyed the hands on affection, you found yourself liking the intimacy afterwards even more. You looked forward to sitting down somewhere with him, his arms wrapped warmly around your body as you asked about each other’s day that branched out into talking about anything and everything. You would skip back to your room afterwards, smiling from ear to ear with your head in the clouds until one day it dawned on you; you were in a sticky situation of constantly wondering “what are we?”

You never dared to ask him though, terrified of his answer and that he would leave you in the dust for even bringing it up. In all your years at Hogwarts, you’ve never seen Draco with a girlfriend, he was the most well-known boy at school, an arrogant and proud Slytherin, a skilled quidditch seeker, and an irresistible flirt. But never having the title of ‘the boyfriend’, despite the countless girls that hung off his arms nearly begging for his attention.

“Y/N,” your friend broke you out of your thoughts, a sly smile on her face as she elbowed your side. “Your little friend is headed this way.”

You looked at her in confusion, turning your attention towards the tall Gryffindor, Trevor, that was walking towards your small group, a bright smile on his face as his eyes stayed trained on you. Your friends giggled teasingly, already knowing what his presence would ensue. He was nice, but annoying as he relentlessly flirted with you every time you had your Transfigurations class with him. You just chose to ignore him even though he always ended up sitting next to you or around you no matter how many times you moved. He was someone who you complained restlessly about to your group which caused them to laugh and poke fun every time he would come up to you around them.

“Y/L/N!” He said happily, attempting to give you a hug as he came up to you which you only begrudgingly returned with a lazy side hug. He took your hand, leading you a few feet away from your group so he could talk to you privately. “I was wondering if you wanted to meet up at the library after lunch to study for our test later this week?”

“Oh,” you trailed off, trying to come up with an excuse but in the midst of your thoughts you remembered you had already made plans with Draco. Speaking of, you had forgotten he was only across the room, unbeknownst to you that he was staring hard at you and your classmate. “I’m busy today.”

“How about after tomorrow?” He asked again hopefully. “We can even go to Hogsmeade after, butterbeers on me!”

You frowned slightly, knowing that this was not a friendly collegiate conversation, but another ploy to try and get you to go out with him. His attempts were increasing week by week and you denied him every single time yet he never got the hint.

“Still busy,” you smiled at him, hoping that if you were to appear nice, it would soften the continuous blow of rejection.

“I’m not going to stop asking until you say yes,” he sighs, hands slipping into the pockets of his robe as he longingly looked down at you. “You might as well give in.”

His hand came up towards your hair, a skinny finger brushing through a strand of your hair as he pulled a small fluff of lint from your robes before flicking it into the air. You stood frozen in place, the gesture being painstakingly too much for your comfort and borderline creepy coming from him.

Draco felt himself shake with anger, the sight of you smiling at the Gryffindor and that he was running his fingers through your hair made his blood boil. Greeting the git with a hug. You being led away from your friends by your hand. He hated the sight. The thought of any man other than him being so close to you made him feel sick to his stomach, a rage sparking from deep within him he never even knew existed. He watched as you looked up at the boy above you, a weird expression on your face that instantly let him know you were uncomfortable.

That was it for him. He was seeing red as he threw his schoolbooks into Crabbe’s hands, pushing aggressively past a pair of boys that were in his way as he power walked towards you and your classmate.

“Didn’t you ever learn to keep your hands to yourself?” Draco called out condescendingly in his haughty accent, his scowl deepening as he approached. Trevor’s head snapped towards Draco, a frown etching itself onto his face.

“Sod off, Malfoy,” Trevor sneered. “Go find someone else to bother.”

“Take your own advice, filth,” Draco shot back.

“Filth? You’re one to talk,” the Gryffindor chortled. By now, everyone within a few feet of the debacle was watching, entertained at the argument that was beginning to unfold, your friends and Draco’s goons staring oddly at the encounter. You only stood there, looking between both boys towering over you in a daze that left you paralyzed in your spot. You were so close to telling off Trevor before Draco came, feeling grateful at your delayed reaction now that he was there defending you.

“I’m not going to ask you again,” Draco threatened, stepping in between you and Trevor as he spoke. “Leave Y/N alone, or I swear you’ll regret it.”

“Why? You think she’d pick you over me?” He snickered. “We’ll see who’s the one feeling regretful when you find her making that decision.”

By now, Trevor had stepped up to the spiteful Slytherin, getting in his face with a patronizing smile. Draco’s face twisted up in anger as his temper got worse, shoving his competition back with the side of his forearm, feeling satisfied when Trevor stumbled back.

“Funny,” he laughed darkly, “I seem to remember her already making that decision every single day while we’re snogging.”

Multiple gasps can be heard throughout the foyer, including your own as you gaped up at the blond, his eyes staying focused on Trevor as he looked taken aback.

“You trying to say she’s your girlfriend?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Your legs nearly gave out below you at his response. This was everything you had been hoping for recently, except not like this. But that still didn’t stop you from feeling giddy, however, the bliss of his revelation filling your entire body with glee. The ‘what are we?’ question being ripped from your mind with relief.

“Is that true?” Trevor asks you, a devastated look glazing over his eyes as you slowly nodded. He gives Draco one more pointed look, bumping shoulders with him before he stalked off into the Great Hall in a rush, everyone scattering around to go inside as well now that the show was over.

Draco turned to peer down at you, fury draining from his body as he admired you. He cupped your cheek, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on the opposite side of your face before whispering hotly into your ear.

“If he tries anything with you again, let me know and I swear I’ll deal with him,” he pulls back from you, smiling at you innocently. “I’ll see you later, darling.”

And with that, he sends you a wink, turning around to saunter over to his eager minions while your friends immediately rush towards you with a million questions that you would inevitably have to answer. This was not at all how you expected the day to turn out, not in the slightest.

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cazimagines · 3 years

Text

Perfectly exasperating

Synopsis: You really disliked Zemo, but one person you disliked more? John Walker. After bonding over how you disliked him with Zemo, you have the unfortunate situation of running into John. He flirts, insults, and hurts you and Zemo is ready to put him in his place.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/Tags: Use of swear words, John Walker being a dick, soft Zemo, protective Zemo

Author’s note: I was not intending this fic to come out as long as it did. This was one of the ones I had been putting off to write other stuff till I finally pulled myself around to writing it and ended up getting really into it. Funny how that happens.

Masterlist

Sequel

Part 3

Part 4

“Would you care for a Turkish delight?”

You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance, refusing to even look at him. Instead of forcing your eyes to focus on a spot in front of you, not moving them in the slightest. Zemo waited for a few moments before sighing and turning away from you.

“You’ll eventually have to talk to me, y/n” he exclaims as he walks over to the kitchen side of the room. You were sitting in the safe house Zemo had provided. There wasn’t much to do, just sit and wait till the funeral started. Zemo sought to communicate to you to keep you two occupied, but you didn’t want to talk with him, so you didn’t. You just sat on the settee, staring at the sofa opposite you while Zemo walked around looking through the cupboards for food.

You were pissed when Bucky revealed he broke Zemo out of prison.

The avengers had been your family. Whenever you needed them Steve would be there to offer you advice, Tony there to make you laugh. Nat there to beat up whoever required it. Everything was wonderful in your life. For once. And he had ruined it.

He caused the family you loved to split, hate each other, and that left you alone. So alone. Losing both Tony and Steve made you more mad at Zemo. He robbed the last years you could have spent with them, so yeah, no wonder you refused to talk to him.

He loved to annoy you, though. Any moment he got he was beside you, creating sarcastic remarks about what was happening, trying to joke around with you. Trying anything to communicate with you. The worst of it was when he insisted you had to be his date on the mission in Mandripoor. Feeling his arm wrap around you, a kiss to your temple, the smell of his cologne flooding you, drawing you in. It pissed you off knowing how easily you fit into the role of his date. Yet you knew deep down why. Every time he made a snide remark, you had to bite your tongue to stop making one back. Every time he tried to joke with you, it took all your effort not to snort. You hated him and everything he does, yet you could sense a fondness growing for him, just a slight one, in the deepest corner of your heart. Left there to be locked away. Never acknowledged.

“So, the new Captain America, huh? What’s he like?” you hear Zemo ask, leaning on the counter of the kitchen table, his eyes burning into the side of your head.

You feel bile rise to your mouth as he spoke.

John Walker.

John fucking Walker.

If you hated Zemo, you despised John Walker. Just thinking of him brought a scowl to your lips. Steve meant everything to you. He was a father figure to you. He stood for all you believed in. He was your hope, your light in the darkness. And John Walker seemed to tarnish it. You wouldn’t have minded him if he was a different mascot for America. If he became America’s new hope. It was the fact that they called him Captain America. That he had the shield. The title belonged only to Steve. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is what he was doing. Him being called Captain America felt like a spit on Steve’s memory. People would forget him, everything he did for the country he loved. They would only focus on John Walker, and you detested that.

You didn’t blame Sam for giving away the shield, unlike Bucky. You could understand why he did it. That shield held such a responsibility, such a legacy it seemed impossible to ever live up to. No, you blamed the people who took the shield away from the museum. Without Sam’s permission. They should have asked Sam. But of course they didn’t care. They didn’t care at all.

“I see by your reaction that your impression of him isn’t a pleasant one,” Zemo says, bringing you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

“Have you met him?” he asks

You try to hold back your opinion, but John Walker made you so frustrated, you knew if you didn’t rant about him you would burst.

“Yes. He’s a dick,” you spit out

Zemo quickly straightens up, surprised you actually answered one of his questions.

“Oh? Are you finally speaking to me.” he inquires, walking around the kitchen counter towards you.

“Don’t push your luck” you mutter, side eyeing him as he sits down opposite you. Sam and Bucky were out leaving you alone with Zemo. At the moment you were all waiting till the funeral. Zemo claimed there were a few hours to kill before everyone had to gather. Sam and Bucky decided to check out the town, make sure they knew it well in case a situation occurred where we had to dash. They had forced you to babysit Zemo.

“No, no, I like to hear you talk. Please, if talking about how this new Captain America is a dick is how I get you to speak to me, then let’s continue.” Zemo says, pouring out a glass of whisky for you and him. He holds the glass out to you, an eyebrow raised. You sigh, grabbing the glass out of his hand and drank, feeling the warmth creep up your throat. Zemo chuckles as he watches you, leaning back on the sofa, his arms resting on top of it.

“My, my. The man must be terrible if just the thought of him is making you talk and accept drinks from me,”

“He’s so infuriating! He thinks because he is Captain America he can stick his nose in other people’s business!”

“Ah, so he is one of those people. Doesn’t understand boundaries. How rude,”

“And get this, he got annoyed at us! Telling us we should stay out of his way when he is the one getting in our bloody way!”

“No” Zemo fake gasps

“Yes!” you exclaim, going into a rant, “I can’t even bear to call him Captain America. He doesn’t deserve to be called that. His actual name is John Walker. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is exactly what he is doing! And how he talks to me as well. He’s so condescending, treating me as if I am a kid while trying to compliment me and act like he’s all that in front of me,”

Zemo’s eyes narrow and he places the glass down on the table between you two, “You mean he flirts with you?”

“If you could call that pathetic excuse flirting. I suppose. It pisses me off though,”

“I can imagine. He sounds nothing like what Steve was. Nothing like his legacy,”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes, watching Zemo curiously. “I assumed you hated Steve”

“I never hated him. No. I can admire what he stood for, I just find unrealistic. All superheroes are flawed. Innocents will consistently be collateral damage while superheroes are allowed to exist.”

You stare at Zemo, amazed. Not realising the silence you were making. You had always thought he hated Steve. It always seemed that way. Yet he didn’t? Knowing he didn’t hate the guy you always viewed as a father figure mattered to you. And you don’t know why.

Zemo stared back at you. He was studying your eyes, trying to figure out what you were thinking. He didn’t realise what he thought about Steve would have affected you, but it appears he was wrong.

“Don’t worry y/n we’re back and guess what! We found your fav-” Sam shouts, opening the doors of the room and strutting in but he pauses, noticing you and Zemo staring at each other from the sofa’s. “What’s going on here?”

Zemo is the one to pull out of the eye contact trance, smirking as he looks over at Sam, “We were just discussing John Walker.”

Bucky who had followed Sam in grounded at hearing Zemo utter that name. “Perhaps you two would like a drink and join us in considering how much of a dick he is?” Zemo asks, raising his glass to them.

A few hours later you walked down the street following Zemo to find his associate. You didn’t appreciate how secretive he was being, but you understood it. He had many people who wanted to get him, and the second he wasn’t useful to us. He would be doomed.

“It’s too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit” you hear a whiny voice shout. Peering up, you notice John Walker and his sidekick ‘Battlestar’ or whatever jogging down the steps towards you.

“Ah! How did you find us now” Bucky shouts with his arms raised, striding towards them.

“Come on. You really think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention,” his friend responds.

“No more keeping us in the dark,” John mutters angrily

Zemo, who you were walking besides, turns his head to you, “I understand what you mean by infuriating”

You chuckle as John looks angrily between you two, “You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison,”

“He did that himself technically” Bucky replies, and Zemo grins at you, as if bragging about it.

“Aw, this better be an unbelievable explanation-” John Walker exclaims, reaching up to you.

“Hey take it easy before it gets weird,” Sam suggests, interrupting John.

“I know where Karli is,” Zemo reveals to John Walker, his seductive accent sticking out from the rest of them. He tries to walk past John. You, Bucky and Sam follow, but John stops him, placing a hand on his chest.

Zemo glares ahead, disgusted at John for even daring to touch him.

“Well, where” he says, getting into Zemo’s face

“All we know is, it’s a memorial so we are going to intercept her there,” Sam adds, trying to defuse the tension.

Zemo grabs John Walker’s hand and pushes it off him, striding forward again, and you jog to catch up with him.

“See why I call him a dick now,” you whisper

Zemo smirks, looking back at you, “Yes. He’s perfectly exasperating”

“What? No. Wait. No! No! Stop. Hold on. Stop. Okay?” John exclaims running forward and stopping you all in your tracks again after something Sam had said. “I think we are way past reasoning with her”

Zemo just stares ahead, fed up with John while you groan in annoyance. Not being able to even bring yourself to look at the man in front of you.

They argue for a few moments while you and Zemo stand idly to the side, Zemo glances at you rolling his eyes making you giggle. You smack his arm slightly trying to get him to stop making you laugh, but that only makes Zemo chuckle along with you. Eventually they calm John down but he glares over at Zemo, “We will deal with you later.”

“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion” Zemo says, gesturing with his hands. He walks ahead, searching for his associate while John Walker moves beside you. You try to pick up your pace, but he keeps up.

“So working with a criminal now. Not very avengery like. I thought Zemo hated Steve. I wonder what Steve would think of you working with him,” he mutters peering at you.

“Need I remind you-you are also working with him now,”

“Come on, darling, don’t be like that,” John responds grinning, placing his palm on your back.

“Get your hand off me” you growl scowling at him

“Most women would fawn over me” John cockily resorts, still not removing his hand

“She asked you to remove your hand” you hear Zemo state, glancing over you see he had stopped walking forward, turned around and was now glaring at John. “Do I need to remove it for you?” he says angrily.

John frowns at Zemo. Finally, taking his hand off you and striding up to Zemo. Zemo tilts his head, his jaw clenching in fury as he stares at John.

“You are nothing but a dirty criminal. Don’t think for a second you can talk to me like that,”

“I will when you are being rude and disrespectful towards a lady,”

John scoffs, peeking over to you, then back to Zemo. Everyone else was standing to the side, not sure if they should intervene or not.

“What did she suck you off or something?”

Chaos ensured.

Bucky and Sam had to leap forward to stop Zemo from launching onto John while Battlestar had to hold John back. “Too far man, too far” he muttered to John

Zemo was snarling at John, his teeth bared in rage. His hair had fallen loose from their usual position and was hanging down over his forehead, giving him a more wild look. The vein in his neck stood out, twitching. His eyes were raging with fire as he looked at John. He kept trying to push past Bucky and Sam to get to John, but eventually gave up knowing it was futile.

You were standing at the side, shocked that John would have the ego to say something like that and at Zemo’s rage towards John for saying it. John adjusts his head. Not looking you in the eyes, but looking in your direction. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t of said that”

Pulling your senses together, you walk up to John, glaring at him. “Yeah, you damn well shouldn’t have. You’re a dick. Nothing like Steve. You never will be,”

John wrinkles his nose in anger, frowning at your remark. You walk over to Zemo now that Bucky and Sam had let go of him. You give him a nod, showing your appreciation, and he nods back, though still glaring at John.

“Who I choose to associate myself with is none of your business. Who I choose to suck off is none of your business. Perhaps you can go fuck yourself and learn a bit of decency,” you spit at him.

A brilliant thought crosses your brain for another way to twist the dagger of your dislike into John. You reach out and grab onto Zemo’s hand, clasping it.

The action causes everyone to turn wide eyed to you. Including Zemo. He glances down at your hand in his then back to yours, surprise in his gaze but he immediately covers it up turning back to John smirking. He turns to behind himself, then back to the group.

“My associate is up ahead,”

You all turn to look forwards and see a little girl staring at you. Walking forward again, gripping his hand, Zemo nods to the girl as you all approach.

“Hello my friend,”

He holds out some money, a lot by the looking of it, and says to her, “This is for your family”

The girl hastily snatches it, obviously in need of it, and you can’t help but feel your heart warm a bit, seeing how kind Zemo was being to her.

“Can you show us the way?”

She beckons with her hands and walks forward. Zemo looks back at you, nodding to make sure you were okay, then follows her.

“What the hell” John murmurs from behind.

Following the girl, she leads you to a building. She turns, pointing inside a doorway, and runs inside not to be seen again.

“Karli’s in there,” Zemo tells the rest of the group. Sam replies and heads inside to talk to her while John suddenly grabs Zemo’s arm and yanks him against the machine on the wall.

Zemo moans as he is shoved into it, the hard outer piece hitting into his chest roughly.

“Hey. You’ve got ten minutes” John shouts to Sam as he takes out a pair of handcuffs and attaches them to Zemo.

“Really” Zemo mutters as John cuffs him to the machine.

“Then we are doing things my way,” John declares ignoring him

“Aggressive” Zemo jokes, though from his eyes you could still see the anger he harbors towards John.

He twists his head to watch John stride forward, staring at Sam, then back to him. “But I get it”

You wander over to stand by Zemo as you wait for Sam to talk to Karli.

“This day has brought a lot of changes. This morning you refused to say a single thing to me and now just moments ago you were holding my hand,” Zemo speaks quietly to you.

You shoot him a glare, “I did that to agitate John,”

“Sure, that was the only reason” but you knew from his eyes he didn’t believe you. They sparkled with amusement as he looked down at you.

“That cuff must bother you” you mention glancing over at them.

“I don’t mind. I quite enjoy cuffs, in the right setting of course,” he quips.

You turn on your side, looking at him, your lips curling into a smile. If we are going to play that game, you thought.

“Oh, what setting would that be?”

Zemo’s smile deepened, enjoying seeing you play along, “I’m sure you would like to know”

“Do you have to do this here!” John exclaims, glaring at the two of you. You quickly step back from Zemo, forgetting that you two had company. Your eyes snap to Bucky’s with worry, but he wasn’t looking at you. He glared at the ground, not seeming to care what was happening between you and Zemo.

After that Zemo tried to engage you in conversation again but you effectively ignored him, going back to how you were treating him earlier, which you knew was frustrating him.

John was looking down at the shield, then squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, panting. Both you and Zemo glanced up, watching him cautiously. You glanced at Zemo and he stared back, confirming you were both thinking the same thing about Walker.

He got up and started shuffling towards the doorway. Both you and Bucky eyed at each other for the first time with the same recognition in your eyes. You leave Zemo’s side to walk over to where John was.

“No, no, no. This is a bad idea,” John mutters as he paces around. Zemo watches him like a hawk while you and Bucky stand side by side, arms crossed.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Sit tight,” Bucky replies.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me,” he spits back, pacing around.

“He knows what he is doing,” you reply

There’s silence for just a moment. You watch as John turns towards you and walks fast, hitting his fist against the shield, “I’m going in”

Bucky walks forward and places his hand on John, stopping him from moving further.

He tries to antagonise Bucky, trying to make him guilty for what could happen to Sam. And you could tell his words were influencing him.

“You will not be going in till ten minutes are up,” you state sauntering over to them

“Oh, so the whore has something to say,” John spits out

In the back, Zemo growls, tugging on the cuffs that connected him to the wall. You feel the outrage prick up on you as John’s remark.

“Don’t call her that” Bucky says, glaring at John

“She’s been openly flirting with the terrorist over there, so yeah, I think it’s appropriate to call her that,” John bites back

You rush forward, attempting to punch John in rage, but he was able to sidestep you and brings the shield up, connecting it harshly to the side of your head. Pain soars across your face as you fall down onto the ground. You groan, your eyesight going dark around the sides and black patches covering parts of what you could see.

“BASTARD” you hear someone shout with a beautiful accent. From the floor, you can’t make out much of what is going on. Someone with a metal arm attacking another guy. A man with a shield being attacked by a man in a trench coat. It was all too confusing for you. You just wanted to sleep.

You could feel yourself fading in and out. Your eyes begging to close. You could hear shouting. Someone talking.

Your head was raised. Someone was holding it in their hands. Your vision is blurry but as they get nearer your eyes could focus on them. Beautiful brown eyes, messy brown hair, cute thin lips. It was him.

“Y/n!?” Zemo shouted at you, “Y/n stay with me”

“My head hurts” you mutter to Zemo as he lifts you up, placing you against the wall. Slowly your eyesight came back, and you could see your surroundings. Only you and Zemo were left.

“Zemo, where is everyone?” you ask turning your head, but in doing so it makes you feel incredibly dizzy. You groan as Zemo places a hand on the side of your face to stop you moving.

“They went after the Sam,”

“I need to help them!”

“No, you need to stay here and recover,”

You look over at the wall then back to Zemo, “How did you get out of the cuffs?” you ask

“Ah well…” Zemo says and glances down at his hand, your eyes follow and widen seeing his hand, bruising covering it, his thumb sticking out at an odd angle.

“You broke your hand to get out!?”

“Well, I couldn’t let him get away with saying those things and hurting you,” Zemo mutters, smiling slightly but you could see the pain flickering in his eyes, “I gave him a well-deserved punch in the face”

You chuckle at the thought. Leaning forward, you kiss him lightly on his forehead, a gesture of you wanting to ease his pain. You move back just in time to see him looking at you, surprised, before your vision faded.

Taglist: @multiyfandomgirl40 @ineffablebean @freyjasamael @avgravy @huntheimpossible @checkurwindow @there-goes-thefighter @bunniwritesx @montypythonsholysnail @yallgotkik @wonderwoman292

#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #i love zemo #tfawts #marvel #daniel brühl #sam wilson #mcu #john walker

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moemammon · 3 years

Note

Can we get some hurt/comfort type stuff where the bros catch MC crying?

It's cool if not, drink water and remember that you're a really cool person ♡

"I Saw You Crying.. Are You Okay?" (Feat. The Demon Bros and GN!MC)

(Hurt comfort, angst, and feels of all varieties)

Enjoy❤️

Lucifer

When Lucifer caught you crying the moment you set your school bag down, he knew something was wrong. He likes to be aware of every situation if he's able, so seeing you like this and not knowing what's the matter is... troubling, to say the least.

He watches your demeanor as you slink off to your room, hoping no one stops you on your way there. He's the type to gather information before engaging, but it's not like he can figure anything out like this, so he goes after you.

He finds you curled up into a pitiful ball, sobbing into a pillow. It doesn't take long for his hand to find a place atop your head, gently petting your hair back. Lucifer doesn't speak, instead allowing you to initiate it first.

And whether or not you DO tell him what's wrong, he listens carefully and provides you comfort all the same. He knows that words can't always fix everything, but having someone to confide in can be a comfort.

"I'll stay here for as long as you need me. Ah, my work? Don't worry about that either. I doubt I could get anything done while worrying over you, MC."

Mammon

When Mammon spotted the tears streaking your cheeks, he immediately went into defensive mode. Can you blame him though? He's supposed to be your guardian! He's ready to fuckin FIGHT

And as such, he immediately hurried after you despite you trying to escape to the bathroom. He'll grab your arm, pull you close, and hurry you off to his room before his brothers can steal you

Promptly plops you down on the sofa and drapes his coat over you. He doesn't know what happened, but he wants names. And if that's not the case, he'll quickly calm down to listen to you.

Big bro has had his fair share of letting his baby brothers vent, so he's pretty good at this sort of thing. Actually, he tries his best to help out if he can. He might not be the best at it, but he means well. And he'll try especially hard if it means you'll smile again.

"Hey... look at me, MC. Crying outta nowhere like that... When something's botherin' ya, come to me. If it's enough to make ya cry, I wanna be involved."

Levi

Levi had been through enough to know the difference between eyes that were red form staying up late, and eyes that were red from crying. Sometimes he’d experience both, depending on what he might've been binging.

But in your case, your red eyes were caused by the latter, along with the sniffling you thought you could hide from him when you came into his room and asked if you could watch tv with him. Of course he agreed, and he gathered up his courage so that the moment you came close enough, he could pull you into his arms.

He's no good at stuff like this. He never thought of himself as the type that anyone would come to for comfort, and yet here you were, choosing his room as your sanctuary. There's no way he could deny you after you came so far!

Levi's definitely a good listener since he's not sure how to handle giving advice, and does his best to dish out distractions. Wanna play a game? He recently got a snack crate shipped in, full off all sorts of sweets! Wanna try some? And he just ordered a super cute sheep plush if you feel like hugging it. Or... you could hug him too, if you want.

"I know that.. things can be pretty overwhelming sometimes. And it probably doesn't help that you're away from your world. But if it's any comfort, y-you can always come here. You're my Henry-... no, you're my friend. So I want to make sure you're okay."

Satan

Satan caught sight of you scrubbing your eyes when you thought no one was watching, and would've assumed you got dust in your eye if he didn't notice how red your face was.

And the way you suddenly closed the book in your hands, put it in a random spot, and rushed off. You knew how Lucifer could be when it came to the organization of the library, so there's no way you'd risk a lecture over a simple mistake.

He hung back for a bit instead of pursuing you, because he knew how beneficial a little alone time could be when one was upset. But that doesn't mean he won't text you to see if you're alright.

When you reply, and grant him permission to see you after he asks for it, Satan arrives with extra blankets, herbal tea, and obviously, a few books. He'll ask if you want to talk about it, but if not, that's fine too.

"They say lavender chamomile tea works wonders for stress relief, and I can attest to that. I... don't know what's on your mind, and I know it can be difficult to put your feelings into words at times, but I'm here, even if you need to yell."

Asmo

When Asmo heard your sobs echoing from the bathroom, he either assumes that you A), poked yourself in the eye during your skincare routine he made you begin, or B), something was wrong.

And from the harsh sound of your cries, he figured it was the latter. There's no way he would let you endure any hardships alone! Asmo to the rescue!

He's quick to politely knock on the door, but doesn't wait for you to allow him access when he's already got it open and closes it behind himself. He gets one good look at you, and he's already cooing.

The boy cups your face and peppers it with little kisses, wiping your tears, smoothing your hair back, and ushering you over to sit in the side of the tub, so he can hug you tight.

"Darling, are you okay?? Look at the state of you... Shall I pamper your worries away with a nice bath? And when that's over, I plan to spoil you until you can't think of anything other than my beautiful face! I'll do anything to make you smile again."

Beel

Beel intended to go to your room to share a new flavor of potato chips with you, but instead was met with the sound of your shaking sobs from behind your closed door. That's all it takes for him to forget about the bags of chips in his arms.

They're discarded to the ground and he hesitates near your door for a moment, worry welling up within him. But Beel won't let you cry for long, because he's already entered your room and is sheepishly approaching your bed.

Without a word, the big ol bear gathers you into his arms for a tight hug, leaning into your shoulder and exhaling. You both stay in that position for a long, long while until your crying has calmed.

He pulls back to wipe your tears and snot, and gives you a worried look. What could've had you crying like this? Were you sad about something? You didn't seem physically hurt... Was someone mean to you? Was it Mammon-

"MC... please don't cry. I'll stay with you as long as you need me to, and I won't let go of you. If you need to hit something, you can hit me. Should I stay here for the night? ....Belphie won't mind. I don't want you to be alone."

Belphie

Belphie didn't know why you weren't answering his texts, but while he normally wouldn't mind, he was desperate to have your attention. Or rather, he really wanted to hug you.

And it seemed you would need just that when he entered your room to find you all curled up under your blankets, hiccuping away the aftermath of a hard crying session. What could've had you in such a state was beyond him, but it bothered him to no end.

So Belphie did what he does best and invaded your space, curling up next to you to lay down and pull you into his arms. He doesn't say anything, only your soft sobs breaking the silence between you.

His hand gently rubs your back when he feels you shake, and he squeezes you a little tighter when you sniffle. Eventually, he looks down at you and moves the blankets from your face, his expression soft.

"...Feeling a little better now? I can't stand seeing you so upset. If someone hurt you, I'll take care of it. If not, I'll let you cry in my arms for as long as you need. And maybe you'll feel better after a nap, hm? Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."

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