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allmyocsarebritish · 7 days

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Unspoken words, still recieved

Pairing: Alastor X reader

Warnings(?): fluff, mentions of drugs and alcohol, 5+1

Husk

Husker was the first to know about your feelings towards his overlord. It had been a long, stressful day filled with Charlie's 'bonding exercises', and you wanted nothing more than to crash at the bar with a strong drink in hand. So, that was how you ended up swirling a glass of alcohol, taking the occasional sip which scorched your throat and fogged your troubled mind. Naturally, in your tipsy state your tongue was greatly loosened. Husker knew this; he was an experienced bartender, and used to listening to the bitching and whining of those intoxicated. What he didn't anticipate was exactly what slipped out.

"What would you do if you really liked someone, but you knew that they hated that kind of thing? And they'd probably hate you too if they found out?" You asked, lazily drawing circles on the counter top with your finger. Husk sighed deeply in slight irritance, once again ready to assume the role of therapist, offering a listening ear to your irrelevant problems.

"I wouldn't know, kid. I lost the ability to feel years ago." He continued to wipe the countertop, a slight frown prevalent on his extended eyebrows (what kind of description is that lmfao).

"Pfft, edgelord." You scoffed light heartedly, to which Husk offered a small smile of amusement, still not meeting your eyes.

"I guess I'll just keep it all to myself then. I doubt Al would appreciate any sort of elaborate romantic gesture anyway." You downed the last of your drink, hopping off of your stool and fishing into your pocket for change. Husk's eyes narrowed at the mention of the Radio Demon, a shadow of concern crossing his features. He gently grasped your sleeve as you reached out with a few coins, tip included, stopping you from placing them on the counter.

"Al? As in Alastor? Oh, Y/N, you've got to be fucking kidding me."

Your eyes narrowed at this. You expected the miserable old bartender to be disapproving, but hearing him voice his doubts was unpleasant to say the least.

"No, I don't think I am."

Husk rolled his eyes, your sleeve now firmly held between his claws, in a way that would rip the fabric should you try to pull away.

"Listen, kid. I know I'm not here to be your pop or anything but please, for the love of everything, stay safe. He's a dealmaker, and I wouldn't put anything past him." He could feel the invisible neon green leash uncomfortably cold against his furry neck.

"Fuck off, Husker. I can look after myself. Thanks for the drink." You scoffed, pulling away, not caring for the fresh tear in your shirt.

Husk's eyes continued to fix on the direction you exited long after your shadow had disappeared.

"Good luck, kid."

Charlie

Charlie was next to know, which, was inevitably going to happen eventually. It was a few weeks following your drunken outburst at the bar, and you could frequently feel Husk's eyes boring into you when you looked away. The pity was infuriating, who the fuck was he to tell you what your Alastor was like?

Charlie, ever the curious devil, noticed the tension radiating from both you and the cat, and decided to involve herself in an attempt to force the two of you back into your companionship.

"Sooo, Y/N," She clasped her hands together, bouncing up behind you as you crossed through the lobby of the hotel, her doe eyes wide and practically pleading. "I noticed you and Husk fell out. But you seemed so close to him!"

"I mean, not really." You shrugged, already trying to walk away from the awkward conversation. "He gave me whiskey, I paid him, we talked a little. I wouldn't call that 'close'."

"But what happened?" The little hellborn princess was persistent, you'd give her that.

"Husker won't understand that he doesn't dictate how I feel about someone." Deep down you knew that was a massive escalation to the situation. It wasn't Husk's fault, he was trying to keep you safe. But you weren't a child, and certainly not his.

"Wait, how you feel about someone? Y/N, do you have a crush?!"

Shit.

"It- it's not a crush." You fucked up. Big time.

"You have a crush!"

"Charlie! Stop!" Your tone was harsh, potentially too much so, causing the demon to back off slightly, although not completely.

"Oh, okay, well I've been known to be an excellent wingman! Woman? Wingwoman? It doesn't matter, if you feel comfortable I'd be absolutely honoured if you trusted-"

You zoned out halfway through her tangent, not having your usual energy to find amusement in her theatrics. You promptly excused yourself, slipping out of the hotel, preparing yourself to take a walk and clear your mind.

"Princess, I know you want to help her, don't push it. The best thing you can do is let her deal with it herself. Trust me, I'd know." Husk warned following your departure, memories of your hostile response to his advice fresh in his mind.

Charlie absolutely did push it.

In fact, you could probably consider her behaviour that followed for the next two weeks low-level stalking. It was her mission to set you up with whoever you fancied. After all, all she wanted was for you to be happy.

Although, after 14 whole days of trying her hardest, she had almost given up on finding out who it was that caught your eye. That was until she saw you with Alastor. It was subtle, not something anyone would notice had they not been searching. But the level of digging she had done on you made it obvious.

The respect you held for the overlord was unmatched by any other. Your usual fairly hot-headed personality had much less of a bite, more aimed towards others than the radio star. Not to mention the way your eyes lit up as soon as he entered the room.

Oh.

Well, this was a spanner in the works she didn't expect. But it was alright, if there was a way for you and Al to be together, Charlie would do her best to help you both reach that conclusion.

Vaggie

Naturally, as soon as Charlie knew of your feelings, so did Vaggie. This was to be expected, even though you weren't necessarily aware that the princess was onto you, it wasn't rocket science that word would pass eventually.

"I just need to find a way to set them up! Oh Vaggie, how cute would they be?!"

Charlie paced through their shared bedroom, ranting to her girlfriend as the fallen angel sat on the bed.

"Cute? Alastor?" Vaggie snorted, refusing to accept that as a way to describe him.

"But Vaggie!! Imagine them together! Oh, she could absolutely soften him up! Imagine Alastor all sweet and in love! Maybe it'll push him into redemption and they can be all smiling and happy in heaven!!"

"Babe," Vaggie interrupted the ceaseless yapping (I'm so sorry but there's no other way to accurately phrase it lmao. Charlie's a yapper) "Seriously don't push it. You know Alastor isn't the type to go all gooey eyed over some girl, even if it is someone he's close to. So don't expect anything, just leave her to get over it herself."

Charlie drew out a long, exaggerated sigh, showing her disappointment.

"I know you want to make them happy, sweetie, but some things just aren't meant to be." Vaggie held her girlfriend's hands in one of her own, the other resting on the Princess's cheek.

Ultimately, Vaggie held a high level of concern for you in this scenario. She hoped and prayed for your safety, though she knew better than to meddle in your business. Despite this, she did make a mental note to keep an eye on you, the angel would never forgive herself if you made a deal she could have prevented. Of course, none of this she could voice to Charlie; her girlfriend adored Alastor and looked up to him, so she opted to keep this to herself, as she hoped you would do also.

Angel

Angel was someone in the hotel whom you truly did consider a friend. And, friends trust friends, or at least according to your wasted brain they did. So, you came clean to the spider, and, in the process, subjected yourself to an eternity of even more torment. For fuck's sake, you were already in hell.

"Angel?" You asked cautiously, tone sending a shiver of worry into the demon. Your voice held an aura of seriousness, something that made him rather uncomfortable.

"Ya'lright, toots?" He asked, his own words reflecting the slight anxiousness you had bestowed.

"Yeah, just got a 2am confession to make." You responded, eyes focusing on the ceiling, your body draped over Angel's bed. The two of you were sprawled over it with your heads together in the middle, although the spider was substantially closer to toppling off than yourself. He chuckled at your revelation, feeling the slight worry vanish.

"Well, then go ahead."

You took a deep breath, drug induced confidence already beginning to ebb. Another long drag of your joint however, and sobering up was no longer a cause for concern. Yet.

"You know Alastor?"

"Yeah?" Angel asked, already suspicious of how this was going.

"I'm just saying-"

"HeAr mE oUt" Angel mocked, to which you swatted his arm, leading to the star erupting into a fit of laughter at you retaliation.

"You're inta Smiles?!" Angel laughed "Well, Sugar tits, now I've seen everythin!"

"Shut the fuck up, Anthony." You grumbled, despite suppressing a smirk at Angel's antics. There was no getting yourself out of this one now.

Niffty

Niffty was not one you were expecting to have to explain yourself to. But, being the nosy little bug she was, you realised only too late that she was peering at your phone screen as you texted Angel Dust.

"You like Alastor?"

"What? No! I-" Niff's singular, unblinking eye bore directly into you soul, unsettling you and making your mouth run dry with unease. You sighed, holding up your hands in submission.

"Maybe."

"I think you should go tell him! You know he really likes you too? I honestly can't blame you, he is a bad boy" the little bug let out an unhinged, slightly manical laugh. You cringed at the way she referred to your Alastor, almost entirely missing the part where she said he liked you back.

Wait.

He liked you back?

You tried your bloody hardest not to raise your hopes after that one, this was Niffty we were talking about. But regardless, there was a possibility!

"Wait, he likes me too?" You asked, trying not to show the way adrenaline and excitement pumped through your body at this potential revelation.

"Oh, yeah. I heard him talking to Rosie about it a couple weeks 'go. Said it was a 'disgusting weakness he couldn't show to anyone'"

Oh.

Well.

That wasn't exactly helpful.

But at least he liked you back?

"So what did she say?!" You asked, suspense rising.

"Who?" Niffty asked, eyes wide and staring at you in utter bewilderment.

"Rosie!" You responded incredulously.

"About what?"

"Alastor!"

"Oh! She said that he should get over it and just tell you, that he'd feel better and even if you didn't feel the same way you'd understand 'cause you're human too. And if not he could just eat you."

"What?!!"

"Although I might have made that last part up." She tapped a spindly finger against her chin in concentration, trying her hardest to recall the conversation.

Your brows raised in concern before shaking your head and resigning not to question her.

"Okay, well, thanks, Niff. I gotta go now but I appreciate you telling me!" Your exit was rushed, but you really didn't want Niffty to catch you delighting in your newfound optimism. (Kicking your heels and squealing).

Alastor

Two days. You had spent two days preparing what you would say to Al and how, yet no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't for the (after) life of you think of what to do or say.

The worst part was the fact your favourite bartender was no longer there for you to turn to when life got tricky. So, you resolved to drowning your sorrows in your own alcohol, and, in the process, inexplicably and subconsciously avoiding your Alastor.

The Radio Demon did not like this.

Every time he descended to the lobby you were missing. Every time he walked to Cannibal town you weren't accompanying him. Every time he broadcasted you weren't waiting for him outside the tower.

This was becoming a problem; Alastor held you so highly in his estimations that he found your presence more than tolerable. So the fact that you just up and disappeared left him feeling an odd sensation.

Emptiness? It was strange, unpleasant and Alastor didn't like it. He was no fool: he knew of his feelings for you, and, after months of denial, finally reached some sort of acceptance of the merciless scenario he found himself in. Such a powerful overlord resigned to a schoolboy crush. Pathetic, really.

But, this loneliness wouldn't do. No, it wouldn't do at all. So, Alastor was going to do something about it. Force proximity with you? Of course not, that was far too desparate, even for these circumstances.

His eyes trailed across the lobby before landing on the bar, and subsequently, the bartender. Bingo!

"Husker! My dear fellow~"

"Go fuck yourself." The cat raised a middle finger to Alastor, bottle held to his lips and tilted.

"Now is that any way to talk to your old pal?" Al taunted. Oh this was fun; how he adored pissing off Husk. In fact, he almost even forgot the motivation for his inquiry.

You.

"Say, Husker. Is there a chance that you've seen Y/N around here recently? She seems to be avoiding me for some strange reason."

Husk scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I wonder why."

Alastor's eyes narrowed as his smile tensed. "Careful, my friend." He warned.

"Listen, boss," Venom spiked the cat's tone, insincerity lacing the word. "I haven't seen her in a week or so. We had a... disagreement and she's avoiding me. Go find her yourself if you're so fucking concerned."

Well, that was conclusive. "Indeed I will. So long, Husker!" Al hopped off the barstool and made for your room, hoping you would be there, as to not look a fool.

Yes, that was it.

Raising a fist to the door, the Radio Demon knocked.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

At the third and final knock, you opened the door, recognising the clear, precise knock.

"Hello, my dear!" His transatlantic voice rang out, laced with static as ever.

"Hi, Al." You responded, quiet and solemnly.

"Why so glum? Smile, my dear! You know you're never fully dressed without one!" His clawed fingers came to rest at the corners of your mouth, delicately and fondly pushing upwards. His own permanent grin softened as he looked at you, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch.

"Have you been intentionally avoiding me, Cher?" He blurted out, surprising even himself.

"What?! Ha, Al, don't make me laugh! I'd never avoid you, how ridiculous!"

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Cher."

"Al."

"Be honest with me."

There it was. That thing he had about him, making it impossible to lie.

"I wasn't intentionally avoiding you." You drew out. " And I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"But, why?"

"Because I love you."

After freezing like a deer in headlights, (HA) his face morphed into an expression entirely unreadable, even to you.

Shit.

Fuck.

Bollocks.

You fucked up. That was it. Friendship over. Potentially even afterlife over.

"Al? I'm sorry I-" you were interrupted but the feeling of his arms wrapping around you. It was slow and gentle, as though you were made of fragile porcelain, easily breakable beneath his warm embrace.

"It's okay, Cher"

I love you too unspoken words, yet still received.

Bonus:

You hopped onto the barstool as Husk refused to meet your eyes. A long, awkward silence drew out, and you kicked your legs, fingers drumming on your knee. Realising there was no way the bartender was speaking first, you resolved to dive straight into your apology.

"Husk? I'm sorry. I was a bitch and shouldn't have taken it out on you because you were only trying to keep me safe-"

Your apology was cut short as a shot of whiskey slid across the counter towards you. You smirked and brightened when you looked up to meet Husk grinning at you.

"Well if that wasn't the most insincere fucking bullshit I've ever heard."

You rolled your eyes, downing the alcohol in one, causing your throat to sting and eyes to water.

"Just stay safe, kid. That's all I ask."

"Deal." You joked, sticking out your hand.

"Deal." Husk responded sarcastically, though the both of you knew it was lightheaded. You were just grateful to have your favourite bartender back.

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dontyoufeelitangel · 1 month

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I found some old vivzie pop art, I deep scrolled her tumblr for this😭

+ my commentary on it.

She called this; archangel Gabriel, will we see them in hazbin? If so, will Gabriel’s design still look like this?

Based on the angels we have seen in the show I think this character design will be scrapped and re-done.

I’m not a furry but ugh I’m a sucker for all these werewolves, out of all vivzies characters, they’re definitely my favorite!!

Do you recognize them? These are Vivzies werewolf characters. They are most well known for their appearances in the Die Young animation.

So um, I’m obsessed, ANYWAYS here’s all their names:

Roxi (pink red yellow, left bottom corner)

Koko (purple sticking out tongue, left bottom corner)

Garfield (black and white checkered, far right)

Mint (mint green, tongue out, bottom middle)

Jiji (light blue body, dark blue hair, main singer in DieYoung, red eyes, gold earrings, middle)

Niquie (small pink, yellow eyes, sitting on Jijis head, top middle)

Whitney (neon yellow, red checkered pattern, middle left)

Dixie (light yellow, red nose and eyes, middle right)

Dani (fluffy black with white long face, light yellow eyes and black freckles, bottom right)

Jaux (pure black fur, white eyes, top middle right)

Gina ( black fluff covering white face, tucked behind Dani and Garfield, right)

From 2013 these are early designs for “angels and demons” which would later be recycled into Hazbin Hotel. The line-up is: Niffty, Husk, (idk who she is someone help me out💀) & crymini.

I love this design of crymini SO MUCH MORE than the newer one.

AAAHAHANNANSNSH I LOVE THIS ONE!!

So this is also from Angels and Demons (which would later become Hazbin hotel)

so the lineup is; Mimzy(she’s stunning), Niffty, Husk, Angel Dust, (that one girl who I don’t know), arackniss, crymini, Baxter, and Alastor.

I love this because we really get a look at the older designs of the Hazbins and also the retired characters that didn’t make it into Hazbin hotel.

Angel dust having a blob fish and an angel fish will never not be funny.

ALSO his design has changed a lot, but sometimes change is good,

Not for me tho lol, I like this old design more than the new one💃

Omg old huskerdust??😍😍 Idk actually, the caption for this was “bros will be bros” 😭

Anyways huskerdust till I die🗣️🗣️

What I find funny about this is how complex Angel dusts design is, and how plain Husk is,

Now in the show it’s the other way around.

Angel dust is drinking orphan tears😞😞

This was the farthest/oldest piece of angel dust art I could find.

Some details: skull on chest, both black eyes, no gold tooth, the amount of eyes, and the colours(duh)

This one haunts me ⚡️⚡️

Back from when Alastor and Mimzy used to be a thing,

Like, hands off my bitch Alastor

Okay this isn’t hazbin or anything,

But honestly as problematic as Vivzie pop is, I really fuck with this ke$ha sketch.

Because as much as I dislike Vivzie, I still love Ke$ha with my whole heart.

So this is angel dust fucking with Mimzy(he’s got her caught up in his webs), there’s also Alastor, husk and some other chick I don’t know.

UGGGHH Mimzys eyes used to be so cute istg

(She’s also matching eyes with Alastor)

On the topic of eyes, Husk is a free soul in this drawing😋😋

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melrosing · 1 year

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I do feel like the Tullys got pretty unlucky when GRRM was dealing out house traits, like what’s their sigil?? a fucking fish. all the other houses get to have fun w their inner furry but you know no son of Tully ever ran around a battlefield calling himself the Young Trout. then what are their words?? family duty honour. three unseasoned abstract nouns

then GRRM just starts taking the piss and naming them all after muppets like old man pls was the red wedding not ENOUGH

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honestly-mad-person · 2 months

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I FORGIVE YOU THIS TIME

₊⊹ genre: fluff (very soft hints of sex) ₊⊹ word count: 737 ₊⊹ a/n: It's the first time I'm trying to write something with Rafayel (I'm not going to become dependent on him, no!). I don't know anything about him except that he is a drama queen, a great kid and a good artist. He is also a big fish. Literally. God bless me… The only thing I can do is to send it to my friend for her to appreciate it (She said she's busy right now, but she already likes the first word)

— Rafayel, stop being offended by me, – you said, taking a step towards him.

Although everyone respected him as an outstanding artist of his time, you knew his true nature. Drama queen. He could easily be offended if his bodyguard was too busy with her hunting job to spend some time with him.

One day, when you were walking in the park, you met a cat sleeping on a bench. You immediately walked up to him to pet his furry head, listening to the displeasure from Rafayel.

— And after that you’ll touch me? – he grunted, folding his hands on his chest and looking at his stubborn furry enemy. – You can't fool me, little monster...

Now Rafayel was standing with his back to you, looking at the view of the sea through the window of his villa, and once again took offense at you. More precisely, for what you didn’t do.

— I'm sorry, I was really busy, – you said sincerely, walking up to him.

He turned his head, gave you a disapproving look and pouted his lips, snorted, turning away again.

— You're always busy with more important things.

Rafayel invited you to the movies, but you successfully forgot about it due to your work load. Missions fell on your head like snow and it was the only thing you could think about for the past two days. When you remembered that you were supposed to meet Rafayel before the movie, you tried to call him but he didn't answer. The heart pounded with excitement. There were many scenarios in your head of how something bad had happened to him, so tiredly, you immediately headed to his house. Your heart calmed down when you saw that everything was fine with him. Besides picking his nose, turning his head away from you and ignoring your presence.

— That's right, but… – you pressed your lips together and came close to him. – You're more important to me. — But I'm not a priority.

Your arms wrapped around his waist and you pressed your cheek against his back.

— H-hey! - you heard his voice and you felt how he jerked in your arms. – Don’t think that I’ll forgive you for such impudent behavior.

— Please, Rafayel, – you begged, pressing closer to him. – Shall I compensate for the lost tickets?

— It's not about the tickets, Miss Bodyguard, – he replied with a chuckle.

— Are you sad because you wanted to spend time with me? – you giggled.

— What nonsense are you talking about? Of course not! — he sounded "deeply" offended.

You pulled away from him a little and looked at his ears and smiled. They were soft pink in color. Well, this game can be played with two players.

Your hands slowly began to move over his stomach, making him tense under your fingers. You could feel his abs under your every touch, you could feel how it made him tremble barely perceptibly.

— Well then… it's sad that you won't forgive me, – you breathed out, wandering over his stomach, rising to his chest and falling back down again. – Probably, I should go and not upset you even more.

You pulled away from him, removing your hands, but he grabbed your wrists sharply and forced you back against his back, wrapping your arms around his waist.

— Silly girl, – he muttered hoarsely, and after a few seconds of silence, he added. – Stay.

— So, will you forgive me? – you asked, letting your hands move slowly down his body again.

— I’ll think about it… – he said, lowering his head as he watched your hands slowly but surely travel down to the waistband of his branded pants.

— Then I'll do my best to make you forgive me, – you giggled, getting into his pants with your fingertips.

— You're… my bodyguard, you're supposed to protect me, not bully… – he whispered quietly, exhaling noisily.

— How dare I bully my employer? – laughing, you poked your nose into his back. – You are tall…

— Do you want me to... sit down? – he asked, swinging at you over his shoulder.

— That would be good, – you let go of him with a nod, watching as his hand froze in mid-air as if he didn't want you to let him go.

— O-okay, but only because you ask me to, – picking up his nose again, he furrowed his brows and grabbed your hand, pulling you to the couch.

A drama queen in her own person. He is so sweet when he is offended and so needy when you touch him. Your needy boyfriend.

#love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace #loveanddeepspace #rafayel x reader #fluff

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princessfroslass · 2 months

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I am glad HuskerDust it's a slow burn because I want to see them being best friends and shit- but I am clawing at my enclosure on the thought of Established!Huskerdust. Like call me corny but if Loser, Baby's visuals taught me anything is that they would be stupidly cute- like that is kind of what happens when you keep everyone at arms leghts but the one person that gets you.

Just imagine: Husk purring whenever Angel scratches him at the ear/general physical affection; Angel trying new cute fits everyday just to fish for compliments from his BF; the CUDDLES UGH THEY ARE BOTH SO FURRY SO IN KNOW THAT SHIT IT'S FLUFFY-; Angel always sitting on the Bar Top waiting for Husk to close up so they can go to bed; Husk actively keeping himself up to wait for Angel to finish his shifts and have someone to receive and check on him; Husk begrudgingly looking after Fat Nuggets and slowly fall in love with him as Angel just gush at the background; Angel taking ALL THE PICS- most of he shows on his Social Media, but he has an embarrassing amount of pics hanging on his wall of their most intimate moments- and of Husk just sleeping; everytime they go out of the Hotel, Husk is super on edge of how every single sinner they come across keep catcalling Angel (at best) and while he knows he can handle it, doesn't stop him from putting a protective wing around him and growling- growling alot; HAND HOLDING- if the dance section in Loser, Baby taught me anything is that Husk's paws are big enough to hold all four of Angel's and that makes me feel a certain type of way....; THEY GROOM EACH OTHER- Angel uses actual hair/skin-care products and Husk just.....Cat.; Did you know that Male Spiders make a sorta of sound that it's very similar to purring? Letting that out there; They are both from the early 1900s so they do the old couple thing where they vibe to old tunes and dance when alone; Charlie ships them- she is just happy to know Angel is actively seeking for normal human connections and that Husk ain't so dead inside; Cherrie is a bit wary of it at first because y'know, the last time Angel "dated" someone....it was fucking Valentino, but eventually warms up to him and even finds him a cool drinking buddy; they call each other baby on the regular- no I won't accept otherwise, I REFUSE; Husk it's the only one that calls Anthony by his actual name- but he still calls him Angel, though most like a cute petname rather that.... y'know, a weird reference to how he died; Angel had the habit of throwing himself out of high stages and shit because he knows that Husk will always catch him- and reprimanded him, but still catch; They go flying together and it's amazing and freeing and totally A New Whole World Vibes; they spend alot of lazy mornings chilling naked without actually doing anything but cuddle- it's mostly an indirect way from Husk to show Angel that he can be on his birthsuit in front of him and nothing he doesn't agree to will happen- but also because they are fucking furries I know that shit it's warm; they just love each other very much and I love them.

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust #i just *squeals onto a pillow*

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chickenparm · 6 months

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Tiny Little Teeth (cat!Scara/f!Reader) Pt 1

it's a rite of passage for anyone that writes for scara to at least do ONE scarameow fic. anyway, 3 chapters for sure on this one, maybe a 4th if i feel like party rockin.

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AO3 LINK Next Part

cat(boy)!Scaramouche/f!Reader - Reader is Traveler 2,628 Words - SFW (future NSFW) (no warnings this chapter - smut tags on AO3)

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“Traveler, pleeeeease?”

Paimon struggles to float under the weight of the kitten, her arms wrapped around his torso as he wiggles and wiggles and wiggles and hisses. You watch for a moment how his little teeth are bared, the pupils of his eyes wide enough that only the thinnest purple iris is visible as he glares at you. Can a cat glare?

This one is. You think you like him.

“Alright, fine. But he’ll have to stay in the teapot, he’s just too little to travel around with us now.”

At the sound of your agreement, he starts writhing even more, and you reach out to take the kitten from Paimon to keep her from sinking like a rock. Holding him by the scruff, you lift the cat to look him over - ink-colored fur, pretty violet eyes with strange markings around them, the whitest feet and ears you’ve ever seen…

“You’re a cute thing, aren’t you? What should we name you…” You use your other hand to support under his back legs, holding him closer to your chest as you release his scruff and instead run those fingers down the raised hair along his spine. “Angry little thing. Kinda reminds me of…”

“That’s what I thought! So grumpy!”

Paimon already agrees before you get the name out, and the two of you giggle amongst yourselves. Ducking your chin to look at him, he stares up at you with a vicious little hiss, just before you say, “Oh, if he finds out he’ll be so mad. Let’s do it. You’re my little Scarameow now.”

Razor-sharp tiny claws sink into your skin at his visceral reaction to the name, teeth bared as his face scrunches up in rage. But it’s not frightening - only cute enough to make you coo and bend to press a kiss right on that angry little forehead. “C’mon, let’s get you home. Paimon, can you watch the teapot for a while? Maybe take it to Nilou for safekeeping?”

“Can do! Oh, can you use the kamera and take a picture if he does anything cute? Paimon wants to see!”

The kitten grumbles, and taking a little pity on him, you falsely make the promise to her and withdraw the teapot from your inventory to head home for a little while. Paimon’s voice trails off with her goodbye as your navel is pulled, and the world shifts from one reality to another, leaving you in a field of wildflowers that wave gently in the breeze.

The kitten goes slack in your arms, the whipping of his little tail petering out as his furry head turns left and right, taking in the sights of the field, the smattering of buildings not so far in the distance, and the backdrop of other landforms beyond it. Even if he probably can’t understand you, you still can’t help pride from filtering in your voice as you begin your walk to the main house and explain.

“This is my home. Well, our home, now. You’ll be comfortable, safe, and warm. Nothing bad will ever happen to you here. You must’ve been awfully scared, being all alone like that.” You say, unaware of how the kitten’s head tilts up to look at you. “What sort of food do cute little kitties eat, anyway? Fish?”

Of course, he doesn’t answer, but he does prickle a bit when you refer to him as cute and little, like he isn’t aware of how small he is. Or how soft his tummy is on your forearm. Somehow, you feel like he’d be mortified if he knew just how much you wanted to put your face in his fur and blow raspberries.

You’d probably lose an eye, you think.

Stepping into the home and shutting it behind you, you don’t bother to lock it as you call out, “Tubby! You home?”

“I am always home, Traveler.” The bird sparkles into existence, the kitten’s fur stands on end as those little claws sink in again. Dipping your head, you shush him and scratch behind one of his tiny little triangle ears, but it doesn’t do much. It almost makes him madder. Narrow red lines well up on your arm from where he’s been scratching and biting you. Tubby waits patiently for the exchange to finish before asking, “Is this a new resident?”

“Yes! This is Scarameow, he’s going to stay here for a while. Do you think you can sift through the storage and see if there’s any furniture that will be good for him?”

“Miss Diona did pass along some of the furniture blueprints they use at the Cat’s Tail when they need to replace something too clawed-up…”

“Perfect!” You agree, holding the kitten awkwardly as you start to kick off your boots. Tubby doesn’t like it when you track dirt into the house, and you’re not feeling up to suffering passive-aggressive comments about your cleanliness today. Tubby flickers off, and you’re once more left with a kitty that’s wiggling desperately to be let free.

Not just yet, though. You wander into what serves as the living area, a few couches near a fireplace that’s already lit. You grab a throw blanket and bundle it up on the couch, then carefully set him there. “That’ll have to do for now. I’m going to go and see what I can find you for food. I bet you’re hungry.”

Purple eyes look up at you, unimpressed. Your face twists in minor annoyance, “C’mon, I’m doing the best I can. If I expected to get a kitten today, I’d have prepared a little better. Maybe you should work on your timing.”

The kitten meows, a loud thing that can’t hold the weight of his own annoyance at you. Planting your hands on your hips, you bend a little and say, “‘Meow’ to you, too. Y’know, if you want to be menacing, you’ll have to work on not being so cute. If you keep being grumpy, I’m going to get your belly and it’s going to be very embarrassing.”

Another meow, teeth bared like needles, fur starting to raise on his tail. In fact, he stands, his back arching and the rest of him puffing up as if to look bigger, scarier. And you only laugh, reaching out with a palm and pushing him over into the blankets. “Cute little thing. Scarameow is a good name, you really do remind me of the Balladeer… uh, Wanderer, I mean. Don’t tell him I messed the name up, I’m still getting used to it.”

The cat pauses in getting up, head tilting as if curious. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to vent to him a little, he is just a kitten. It’s not like he can tell anyone unless he suddenly learns to talk like Neko. Standing straight, you let your arms fall to the side with a sigh, “It’s weird, he and I are the only people that actually remember what happened before. He’s kind of a jerk, but… I’d hoped that maybe, if anything, he’d be willing to let me… oh, I don’t know. Be his friend?”

Settling on the couch, you abandon the idea of food for now. The kitten doesn’t seem interested anyway. But he does settle down to sit on the blankets and seems to be listening intently to what you’re dumping out on him, even if he doesn’t understand. Leaning back against the couch, then letting your head roll to look at the ceiling, you continue, “I want to talk to him, but honestly, I’m not sure how to do it without him assuming I’m just taking pity on him for it all. I’m not, really, but he just seems kinda… lonely?”

No answer from the kitten. Maybe he’s fallen asleep already, maybe he’s not listening at all.

“Despite everything, I kind of get it. Y’know, after everything he’s been through, I’d probably be the same way. So I can’t really fault him for a lot of it. Well, maybe I can, just a little. But people can change, and it seems like he’s putting in some effort.” Your hand reaches out to the blankets, searching for the kitten to try and pet him absently, but your hand comes up empty.

Lifting your head, the blankets are empty, but in the space between your lap and the makeshift bed, the kitten is frozen mid-step, like he’d been sneaking closer. It looks up at you, and you look back, and carefully you turn your gaze back up to the ceiling. Maybe if you don’t give him so much attention, he’ll be a little more accepting of it all.

And the idea strikes you enough that you speak it into the world, “Maybe that’s the key. I’ll give him some space, just make it known that I’m willing to accept him and then back off. If I come on too strong, he’ll just get annoyed.”

There’s a pressure on your thigh of a small paw pushing in, then the opposite, and as you covertly look down, you can see he’s making biscuits on your lap. Not quite sitting on you, just off to the side, but it’s a start and you can’t help the giddy smile on your face. Biting your tongue, you don’t draw attention to it and instead bring one hand to curl around his back where he sits next to you, a warm presence against your palm.

“Do you think that’ll work? Ah, you’ve never met him, how would you know. I bet you’d get along, though. Two angry little guys.”

Claws poke against your leg in a warning, and you laugh a little as you finally lift your head and look down at him. “Alright, alright. Hm… y’know, I have an idea. If I promise not to get your tummy, will you put up with me doing something else less demeaning?”

A head tilt, a cautious ask of what you’re planning before he accepts anything. You guide him away from the copious amount of biscuits he’s been making and settle him in the blankets again before getting up. “I’ll be back, just going to go to the workbench for a bit and make something. If you hate it, you don’t have to ever look at it again, but I think it’d be… cute.”

Scarameow growls, looks at you unsure, but you’re already walking away and leaving him alone in your home. Before leaving the room, you look at him over your shoulder. He’s sitting where you left him, looking suddenly very small, and a little coo leaves you that makes him bristle and stand, back arched once more.

Your laughter is what remains in the room with him as you leave.

The kitten waits while standing, then sits down to wait more. Then he lays, curled in a tight ball, eyes watching the doorway that you left through. The fireplace crackles nearby, lulling him into a calmness that makes him relax a little. Eyes drooping, he watches with disinterest as that weird little bird appears in the room, floating around and materializing what looks to be furniture suited for a cat.

A little tower with multiple levels, a wooden bowl-shaped bed filled with soft pillows, a box with a paw print on it filled with unknown contents. Then, the bird moves to the window and opens the curtains, letting the sunshine in. Suddenly, the kitten perks up a little, getting to his feet and streeeetching before all but tumbling from the couch. Annoyed at himself, he wanders over to the window.

There’s just enough of a ledge that he can sit up there, so he backs up and lowers himself, rear end wiggling a little before launching up. Still unpracticed, his claws catch on the edge as he undershoots the distance and has to scrabble on the rest of the way. Looking over the edge, he sees a few marks left in the wood, and his chest puffs up a bit. Good, serves you right.

Outside the window is that same view he was greeted with on arrival. Wildflowers fill the field, waving in unison as each breeze wafts over. His eyes follow the patterns as he lowers himself and tucks his limbs in, then his tail around himself. You said he’d be comfortable, happy, safe. He’s heard it often enough, but when was the last time he felt it?

Mildly disgruntled, he realizes he’s feeling it now.

He’s not sure how long he looks out the window, feeling the sun warm his fur as it moves across the sky. But his ears twitch, your footsteps returning, and he doesn’t have time to get up before you enter the room and coo, “Oh, you’re loafed up. How adorable!”

You clasp your hands around something, then tuck your hands beneath your chin at the sight of him looking so comfortable in the window. You don’t miss the scratches left from his journey up there, but you don’t really mind. It’s not like he did it on purpose, and it’s an easy fix.

Wary eyes watch as you approach and kneel at the window to be on an even level with him. With a little smile, you reassure him once more, “I made you something. If you really don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it, but you really do remind me of him, so…”

You set the little object down in front of him. A bright red cord of expert make, looped into a necklace and tied with a red bow around a little white puff ball. And on the end a golden ornament lacking the depth of detail of the original, but still a good enough mimicry that you feel proud of it. The kitten stares and stares, almost as if his eyes are unseeing. Patiently, you wait, considering he hasn’t batted it away like you initially expected.

And then, one of those soft white paws untuck from beneath his body to reach out and paw at it, tugging it closer. A quiet acceptance that’s solidified by how he doesn’t fight you when you carefully settle it over his head and around his neck, ensuring it isn’t too loose or too tight. “There, you could get it back off if you wanted, but…”

And then, with a little laugh, you fold your arms on the window ledge and prop your chin on them to look at him with a pleased smile, one that’s absolutely fond. “Anyway, don’t let him see you wearing that. He’d probably blow a blood vessel seeing you wearing it and having that name. Ugh, he’d probably think I want to keep him as a pet.”

The kitten looks at you unamused, one paw still resting out, claws starting to flex in a quiet warning. All you can do is grin, scrunching your nose at him, “And then I’d have to explain that I did it because I’m already fond of him. Is that weird? I’ve known of him for a long time, and we’ve been enemies for almost the entirety of it. One soul-searching journey and now I’m fond? I must be crazy.”

The kitten nods. A delighted laugh leaves you and you reach with one hand toward him, your cheek resting on your other arm. To your surprise, he doesn’t bat you away as your fingers start to scratch beneath his ear, but he doesn’t seem entirely pleased, either.

“I think it’s been a long, long time since anyone was fond of Wanderer. After all he’s been through, don’t you think he deserves a little softness, now?”

The kitten doesn’t say anything, but if you hold your breath and stay very still, you swear you can hear a quiet little rumbling coming from him as his eyes start to droop closed.

#scaramouche #wanderer #genshin impact #genshin #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #reader-insert #x reader #f!reader #female reader #afab!reader #scarameow #mdni #nsft

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idkfitememate · 1 day

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So anyway this is the newfound brain rot because I got to many ideas, not enough for a fic, but it’s gonna distract me from others so here we go lol-

(Also yeah Grandpa I’m in a manly mood)

Note from weeks later: Nah this bitch a fix tf-

“Tell me about my Дедушка*.”

Capitano looked down at the ginger with contempt. It was often now, since Dottore had let it slip - curse that bastard - that Tartaglia’s Grandfather was a Harbinger. Apparently the boy had been raised to think that great man was simply a lowly solider, not one of the most powerful men in Snezhnaya.

When he heard that, Capitano had never wanted to kill a family more.

They hid your legacy from their kids, how dare they keep living as thought they had any right!?-

He sighed.

The boy continued to bother the much larger man at any chance he got, borderline begging - or now was he? Maybe he crossed that line ages ago - the man to tell him anything about his grandfather.

War stories, tall tales, hell even DRINKING stories, the 11th would take any.

It wasn’t like his Grandfather wasn’t alive, Childe could leave the palace right now and go ask you, seeing as you lived with his family.

But what Childe wanted was to come home one day in a boisterous manner and shout at his parents:

“You LIED you FEINDS!!! How DARE YOU LIE to not only ME but the REST OF YOUR CHILDREN about their ГРАНДФАТЕР?!? And to YOU, ГРАНДФАТЕР, ALLOWED THEM TO LIE!!! How COULD YOU?!?”

But he held to much respect for both them and you, even if his father sent him off as thought sending his blood thirsty son to join the Fatui would do anything. It was like sending a polar bear to a penguins nest, he had no clue what his father was thinking.

No matter, because you were there, showing him moves and teaching him tricks and giving him tips. Though, he still felt a bit betrayed at the fact that you even hid the fact that you were one of the strongest men in Snezhnaya.

“You truly wish to know boy?” The sharp voice of his superior snapped Childe out of his head. A quick nod was enough to bring Capitano to a nearby chair and sit, Childe quickly following.

“He was brave, I can say that much… He was around before me and had made a name for himself long before I even dared touch the Fatui, let alone graced its ranks.”

Childe took in the information like a sponge, absorbing everything the man said.

“They called him Большой хищник Севера*, a powerful title I’m sure you can see. It is said that before his accident, he had not lost a single man in war or battle, but after, he only lost seven men, one of each nation.”

Childe looked on in wonder. Only seven men… in the entirety of his Harbinger career? He knew the Doctor could never account for that.

“Wait… his accident? Do you mean..?” “Yes, when he first received that scar across his face, marring it, that was the first time he lost a man, someone near and dear to him as I’ve heard. I was only then truly climbing the ranks when this happened… a pity. But he wore that scar, and his friend’s Vision, with pride.” Childe gaped.

“Wait, you mean to tell me that-“ “Yes, Tartaglia, that Vision he carries in his eye, as well as arm and ear, back and finger, even his heart, they all work. They are the last pieces of his closest comrades. He’d rather die than give them up, I’ve heard. Unfortunately the strain of using them forced him into retirement, but he comes when we call.”

Childe’s eyes widened as he screamed.

“WAIT THEY WORK?!?-“

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“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-“

Ajax looked on in awe at his Дедушка. The nearly ten foot tall giant of a man, with a full beard and furry body hair to boot had just pulled a huge fish out from beneath the ice sheet they currently stood on while ice-fishing, bare handed.

Your roaring laughter echoed through the tundra as you held the fish up proudly. You grabbed the then four year old and hoisted him onto your shoulder, that which he could fully sit on and still have some room. His hands latched onto the side of your face but that didn’t seem to phase you, as you continued your loud laughter. The cause of your laughter, being that the fish was the same size as Ajax.

“LOOK AT HOW LARGE IT IS, МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН*!! SHE IS THE SAME SIZE AS YOU BWAHAHAHAHA!!”

Ajax’s entire body shook as you continued to laugh, giggles beginning to bubble up from his own mouth.

He watched as your Hydro themed earring bounced around as your body gyrated up and down from the mere force of your laughter. His laughter grew until the two of you were basically screaming out through the tundra.

You sighed and - while still chuckling - wrapped an arm around the boys waist and began walking back home. Of course, not before grabbing the bucket filled with other fish from your fishing trip.

Ajax didn’t want to say anything, on account of the fact that it would’ve been disrespectful of course, but your arm that was wrapped around him was bumpy and hard and cold, not unlike a certain place on your chest, though it was just super cold.

The arm was usually covered in more layers or a bunch or bandages wrapped around it to soften its shape and surface, but Ajax could still feel the sharp points and edges, though he never minded.

Eventually you both made it back to the house you shared with his family, and ducking under the doorframe quickly alerted the family of your presents.

“ГРАНДФАТЕР!!!!” Ajax’s two younger siblings - a third was on his way, Teucer would be his name - ran up to you jumping at your feet. You chuckled more and let their heads, greeting each.

“Tonia, Anthon, calm yourselves!! We were only gone a few hours hah hah!!” The two only cried out in joy louder, wrapping themselves around your legs. You stumbled for a moment before walking forward as if they weren’t there.

A man and a woman watched as you walked into the kitchen and subsequently the freezer - ironic considering where you lived - to drop off the fish before waltzing into the living room. You plopped down in the couch, first removing Ajax’s coat and then your own.

The two on your legs let go and smiled up at you, the man and woman - Ajax’s mom and dad - walked over a gave you smile, a hand landing on your shoulder.

Your smile widened.

Archons you fucking loved your family.

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Archons you fucking hated these enemies.

These fuckers from Natlan were resistant little fuckers. You chop off a hand and they’d still keep fighting.

You were growing annoyed after hours of fighting, blood drenching your uniform and absolutely caking your hair, something you knew would be a bitch to get out from experience.

Your right hand of the time, a Natlander by the name of Eztil, was beside you through the whole fight. He wielded large war hammer made of various precious metals and stones, as well as prettified wood; it swung through the skies, heating up the air as his Pyro vision burned bright. Much like you, his battle-hungry smile was long gone, replaced by annoyance as he squished another enemy beneath his hammer, blood spraying across his already bloody face.

“UGH! I’m getting bored nouehuepo*!! When are we going to be finished?? I am growing hungry and wish to challenge you to another eating contest after this!!” He shouted, completely ignoring the man running at him with a knife, whom was taken down by another Fatui member.

“I do not know приятель*. But let us continue until no other man stands but us!” And with that, you both continued swinging. You with your fists, sickles and hammers, him with his war hammer and bursts of flame.

Your movements were in sync, almost like a dance as you ravaged the battle field. You had each others back, making you both the most dangerous force on the battlefield.

If only it could’ve stayed that way.

It was a second. A second to look back at your friend to make a mental check.

Then you felt a searing sensation on the side of your face not looking at him. Eyes quickly looking back, a knife was embedded in your skin and a man had his foot on your chest. He smirked, then dragged the burning hot knife up, towards your eye, but before you could fully react.

Everything went white in that eye, then black.

Then, the most searing, burning, awful sensation you had ever felt.

Your scream silenced the battlefield as you bat the man away with the knife still embedded in your flesh, his body skipping across the land like a stone on a lake. Eztil’s eyes landed on you, which was just enough time for another attack.

“EZTIL!!!” You screamed.

…

A sword embedded itself through his chest. Both your eyes widened as your hand left the knife in your eye, reaching out to your now falling comrade.

You refused to cry, because he’d live.

That’s what you said to yourself as you rushed over to him, not minding your injury.

“Eztil, don’t you DARE fucking close your eyes, do you understand me?!?” Blood bubbles from his lips as his breathing slowed. A tear slipped from his eye as one of his hands pressed against your cheek.

“Nouehuepo… take it.” He whispered. Your gaze became confused as you stared at the dying man.

“What..?-“ “My vision. Take it. She shall be of service to… y-you.” He let out a harsh cough, his blood not staining your skin, making you flinch.

“No. It is yours приятель, I could never-“ “It is my last wish. Y-you wouldn’t deny a d-dying man his last wi-sh, would you?” You sighed, smiling at him.

“I don’t want you to die of enemy hands, so would you allow me to do the honors?” His grin widened, a glint in his eyes as he laughed, which quickly turned to hacking up his lungs.

“O-of co-urse!!” He smiled, and you smiled as well. Your hand flew up to the knife in your eye, and tore it out, not caring for the fountain of blood that squelched out. You also didn’t mind the large flap of skin that fell from your cheek, revealing the musculature of your face and your gums and teeth.

“Goodbye, my friend. May you find many fights in the afterlife to satisfy your bloodlust.” He grabbed your hand with the widest smile you’d ever seen in him.

“And ma-y I see you I-in that place!” Your hand came down onto his head, knife imbedding itself into his skull. Then, you raised your arm and planted the knife tainted with you and his blood now into his chest, striking his heart head on.

The light died from his eyes and his vision, but you quickly picked up the small red jewel which had been attached to his hair. Wiping it off, you leaned back and held your hand forward, before slamming the damned thing into your eye.

The battlefield suddenly felt as though it was atop a volcano itself, the air heating up and ash seemingly falling from the sky. You gripped your friend’s weapon, testing it in your hand and grip, swinging it slightly. Your hands pressed to your waist and your hand tilted to the sky, and finally, you laughed.

Your laughter shook the world, men falling in their asses as you showcased your joy. the air grew even hotter as the vision grew even brighter. Your entire body shook as the ear hammer in your hand heated up to a point where the metals were turning white in heat, though they didn’t melt.

You turned to your men, a wide smile on your face and tears, one trail of water and one of blood, streamed from your eyes.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR MEN?!? LET US FIGHT UNTIL ONLY WE REMAIN!! CHARRGGEEE!!!!”

You continued to laugh as you knocked down tens of hundreds of soldiers in one swipe, the sky nearly turning red at the mere sight of your bloodlust and rage.

That night would go down in history. The night the sky cried blood, the fall of a nation of soldiers, the day Natlan would forever regret.

‘The Night Man became a God”

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You stared at the bloodied Tartaglia- no. You stared at your grandson, Ajax’s bloodied form.

He only looked back at you.

“Well, Дедушка? Have I become a God?”

Holy shit this sucked the shit outta me-

This ain’t the best but I hope you enjoyed might go back and make another of these lmao-

Дедушка - Grandfather

ГРАНДФАТЕР - GRANDFATHER

Большой хищник Севера - The Great Predator of the North

МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН - LITTLE ONE

nouehuepo - my friend

приятель - buddy

#male reader #x male reader #Genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #male y/n #platonic #family #Childe!Grandpa!Reader

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infinitystoner · 1 year

Text

01. Mishaps

Part One of Box of Rain

AO3 | Loki Masterlist

Summary: After the universe plummets into chaos, you find yourself working alongside a merry band of misfits who’ve made a home for themselves in Tønsberg, Norway. When a harrowing incident occurs, Loki is forced to confront his feelings.

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

Word count: 7.4k

Content: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Humor, Mutual Pining, Eventual Fluff, Mentions of Depression/Past Trauma, Mentions of Blood, Post-Infinity War, Canon Divergence, Loki Lives, Asgardians of the Galaxy, Second Person POV, Loki POV

*header designed by the talented @tripleyeeet. and shout-out to the incredible @use-your-telescope for being a kick-ass beta.

The view looking out across the fjord was one you’d never tire of. As the sun set, heaven and earth collided, and for a brief moment, you existed within a world made only of skies, framed by towering mountains on either side. It was serene. Mystical. Otherworldly. Seemingly as if you were living on a totally different planet. And, in a way, you were. A changed planet, at least.

You let out a contented sigh as you watched the amber sun sink lower on its path across the sky, its hazy rays glistening on the water. Flashes of gold reflected across the ethereal cerulean inlet, shimmering and rippling with the last light of the day. Broad stripes of coral and lavender wrapped around you like a cozy blanket as the sun dipped slowly behind a jagged peak, kissing the distant horizon. Time slowed down, and all you felt was stillness and peace.

You almost forgot about the harsh reality of the near-dystopian state of the world. Almost. Moments like these were always as fleeting as they were unforgettable.

You inhaled, relishing the way the fresh, crisp air left a dash of salt on your lips. Your eyesight adjusted as you turned around, taking in a new view that was less than desirable. A small, plump codfish floundered at your feet, its spotted scales catching the last rays of receding daylight.

“Sustainably caught and everything,” a proud voice rang out from below. You glanced down at your furry companion and winced.

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I asked for your assistance, Rocket,” you sighed, wrangling the poor fish into your grasp before tossing it into the waters along the jetty. The raccoon scrunched his wet face in dismay as the tail fin disappeared with a glug beneath the placid inlet.

“What the– That was gonna be dinner,” he growled, kicking at one of the jetty rocks in mock protest.

You had grown quite accustomed to the dramatics of your new friends and simply rolled your eyes as you removed your gloves, wiping your hands against the rough cotton fabric of your coveralls.

“Spare me. We’re supposed to be monitoring and mapping movements. Not doing meal prep,” you said as you climbed up onto the harbor, only pausing to retrieve your tablet off the low stone wall of the dock. “And now I’m late for a meeting.”

“How exactly is that my fault? If you hadn’t been daydreaming, sunshine…”

“You smell terrible, by the way,” you called over your shoulder, hurrying up the stone steps toward town.

“Yeah, well, you’re not exactly smellin’ like a rose yourself!” you heard Rocket call out as you turned the corner.

Despite New Asgard’s remote location, it was a bustling place. The people of Tønsberg had accepted the Aesir with open arms, and you’d witnessed firsthand how the Asgardians’ unique culture and traditions had seamlessly blended with the local Norwegian way of life.

And you were lucky to be here.

The immediate aftermath of losing half of the Earth’s population had been devastating. Three years later, the planet – the universe – was still responding to the aftermath of mass extinction.

It had been a haunting phenomenon, the collective grief of half a world wondering if those who had disappeared would ever return. You had to believe, in some way, that they would. That you’d finally obtain a resolution. But losing your entire family in the blink of an eye was still something you were coming to terms with.

Most days, it seemed there was no closure to be had. By anyone.

The assembled trauma and utter shock had gotten you through the most chaotic times. And yet, you had never been more alone in your sorrow. Everyone you loved – everyone who loved you – vanished in an instant. Your grief had eventually led you here, to Norway, to your great aunt’s abandoned cottage. You never imagined it would also lead you to a new family of sorts.

You knew that Valkyrie had led the surviving Aesir to Earth, that Thor and Loki had fought against the invaders in Wakanda, ultimately failing to stop what Rocket called the ‘Snap.’ You also knew Thor had gone on to kill the madman who inflicted his cruel interpretation of order on the entire universe. The same tyrant who had tortured Nebula. Who had tortured Loki.

And while they all bore witness to his demise, none derived satisfaction.

Still, you didn’t know the whole story and had long accepted you never would. Rocket, while he loved to yammer on about all sorts of things, never actually gave you any information you couldn’t easily seek out online. And none of the others ever spoke of it. It was as if they had chosen to exist outside of reality, weary and burdened by their experiences. Their silence was like a heavy cloak that draped over them, concealing the past and shielding you from the horrors that resided within their minds.

Nonetheless, you cherished your otherworldly friends, grateful for the moments of joy and camaraderie that you shared in the midst of persistent responsibilities. Which, for you, meant working under the guidance of Asgardian leadership, developing ethical frameworks that promoted sustainable interactions between the citizens of New Asgard and the natural world. It was a far cry from your previous profession, but one that gave you a renewed sense of purpose amidst the lingering mayhem.

You hurried along the cobbled walkway, popping in your headphones as you bypassed New Asgard’s central square, where a statue of Odin stood tall and imposing, watching over his people. Veering off the main path, you opted to take the shortcut over the hillside while there was still enough light left to guide you.

As you walked up the trail that wound through a thicket of trees, you pulled your tablet from your bag to email your daily report to Valkyrie. Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the figure approaching from the opposite direction until it was too late.

With a jolt, you crashed back to reality as you collided with someone along the narrow path, the device falling from your grip.

“Oof,” a deep voice resounded from above you. You snatched out one of your earbuds, your other hand searching for purchase against a broad chest.

“L-Loki,” you stammered as you looked up at his stoic face, framed by his perfectly groomed curls that obediently rested atop his broad shoulders. How he always managed to look so impeccably regal despite the blistering cliffside winds was a mystery you were too eager to solve.

“Hello.” The resounding timbre sent a shiver down your spine as your fingers absentmindedly lingered on the soft wool of his dark pea coat. Loki looked down his nose at you, his eyes flitting from your fingertips to your face. Then he frowned.

He was not a fan of his personal space being invaded and you knew this. However, there had been a few moments between the two of you when he almost seemed to welcome your touch. Your mind flitted back to the time your fingertips grazed his while sitting together at a council meeting. You recalled the way your shoulders often touched as you walked side-by-side along the docks, and how he never removed your hand from the crook of his elbow as you navigated through the crowds on village market days.

And then there had been the time you’d excitedly hugged him after successfully tagging your first Norwegian cod, and you swore he hugged you back. You thought about the hug a lot. Too often, perhaps. It was all strictly platonic, of course.

You felt Loki’s cool fingers wrap around yours, and you hurriedly took a step back, snatching your hand away.

“I am so sorry,” you said as you shoved your headphones into your coat pocket. Your already wind-chapped face grew even more heated under his puckish gaze. “I was– ”

“Preoccupied?” Loki mused, his eyes crinkling with mirth. The playfulness in his tone calmed your nerves a bit.

“Mmm. I’ve been down at the docks all afternoon.” You forced out a laugh in a poor attempt at regaining some semblance of composure as Loki squatted down to retrieve the forgotten datapad at your feet.

“Thank you,” you murmured as he handed it back to you. “Again, sorry for that less-than-graceful display.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, his piercing green eyes surveying your form. God, he was always so intense.

“You’ve got a lot on your mind, I’m sure. As do I,” Loki commented as he cast a knowing glance in your direction. “I just left Thor’s.”

“Oh. How is he today? Will he be joining us later?” you asked, trying to keep up with Loki’s long strides as he turned off the path in the direction of Valkyrie’s secluded lodge.

“The same, I’m afraid. His apathy for– ” Loki opened his arms and gestured down the hill “ –all this grows by the day. But I don’t imagine that surprises you,” he replied, quirking an eyebrow.

“And I’ve asked him to come tonight,” he continued as he turned to knock on the cabin’s front door. “But no promises were made.”

Valkyrie placed a steaming cup of tea in front of you as you set down your tablet and propped your head on your hand.

“This proposal is ridiculous. They’re already manufacturing synthetic food products in labs across the globe. Asking us to operate a fish farm would not only skew our ecological research, but it essentially violates New Asgard’s sustainability treaty,” you lamented, glancing across the table at Loki.

He was surrounded by an imposing tower of folders and an array of alien technological systems that rivaled the inventions of Tony Stark. He still obstinately refused to use Midgardian tech, deeming it inferior to what he could procure from elsewhere in the universe. He stopped thumbing through a stack of papers, his eyebrows slanting up as he gave you a bemused look.

“Exactly. Why is the Council giving us a hard time?” added Valkyrie, settling into a chair and pushing a holographic map out of view as she too looked to Loki for an answer. “I did not agree to come to this planet just to be controlled by another group of insane bureaucrats.”

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, a weary sigh escaping his lips before he responded. “Because they can, I suppose. The entire universe is in chaos – and not the kind I usually revel in, mind you,” he said, casting a sly wink in your direction that immediately made your cheeks flush with heat. You quickly took a sip of your drink as Valkyrie suspiciously peered at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“But, by all the Nine, the governing bodies of this particular realm are so tedious. I can admit I’m at my wits end with these negotiations,” Loki continued, seemingly oblivious to your flustered state.

For the next half hour, the three of you continued to address the unremitting concerns of the new world order. As you brainstormed, the holographic map in the center of the room flashed various graphs and statistics. In any other situation, you’d find meetings like this incredibly irksome, but Loki had a way of keeping you fully engaged.

Why did you find everything about him so alluring? Your heart fluttered as you watched him reading over his notes as the conversation lulled, the urge to reach across the table and smooth the deep creases on his brow overwhelming. When he ran his thumb under his bottom lip as his eyes flitted back and forth across the page before him, you couldn’t help but imagine how his lips might feel against yours…

When you realized you’d been staring, you fumbled with your own notes, ignoring the smug expression on Valkyrie’s face.

“I believe we have a solid plan,” Loki said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And if all else fails, I can always use my charm to persuade them otherwise.” At his words, a flash of seidr shot from the palm of his hand as five more Lokis appeared around their commander.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Valkyrie sneered, rolling her eyes as she stood up from the table. Loki waved his duplicates away with a huff, turning around as the door creaked open behind him. Thor sauntered in, his eyes glued to his phone as his wide frame strode through the glowing data projections.

“Ah, how kind of you to join us, brother,” Loki scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “We were just discussing the most recent inane request presented to us by your friends at the Disunited Nations.”

Thor grunted in response, still mindlessly scrolling. Loki, however, was not so easily dismissed.

“Care to verbalize those rousing thoughts, your majesty?” he said sharply, his frustration palpable.

Shit. You stared at Valkyrie, eyes wide. The last thing you wanted was to be caught up in an altercation between two brooding demigods. She subtly shook her head, motioning for you to join her in the kitchen.

As you stood, the blonde Asgardian bristled, finally glancing up from the device dwarfed in his palm. “Erm, sorry. What is it you’re rambling on about?” Thor muttered, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“The prospect of a fishery…” Loki did little to hide the annoyance in his voice. “As king, I thought you might have an opinion. Clearly, I was mistaken.”

Thor shrugged, scrolling through his phone once more. “I don’t know. You seem to have everything under control. I’ll just… be over here,” he replied, drifting to a nearby chair.

Loki abruptly stood, sending his belongings to his interdimensional pocket with a flick of his wrist.

“I see. Then we will move ahead with our plan– ” he paused, giving you a knowing look across the room as he walked toward the door “ –to continue the monitoring and not risk further contamination with foolhardy farming practices.”

Thor let out another grunt as Loki exited the cabin, turning to you and Valkyrie with a look of indifference. “What’s got his cape in a twist?”

Damn it. You quickly dismissed yourself, snatching your tablet from the table and hurrying after Loki. It was dark out now, but not so dark that you couldn’t make out his stately form descending the hillside. At least three of your strides equaled one of his, and you found yourself breaking into a graceless jog as you struggled to catch up with the god.

Before you could stop yourself, you shouted out his name. Loki turned on his heel and held up his hand, conjuring an orb of glimmering light.

“S-sorry, hey,” you panted as you finally reached where he stood waiting. “I thought we could walk back together?”

He pursed his lips, glancing over your shoulder at Valkyrie’s cabin. Perhaps this wasn’t your brightest idea. After what felt like an eternity, Loki responded.

“Of course. I- I should not have made such a hasty exit. Apologies for my imprudent behavior.” He spoke with a twinge of forced formality that sent your mind reeling. He obviously wanted to be alone right now.

“Oh. No worries,” you replied almost too casually, cringing internally as you fell in step alongside him. The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, and it took every ounce of your resolve not to gawk at the handsome god. The way the moonlight illuminated his sharp features was absolutely devastating and definitely not something you’d be thinking about as you drifted off to sleep later.

You turned your focus to the warm glow emanating from Loki’s floating orb, humming in delight as you observed the tendrils of gold light wafting through the nipping sea air. You were endlessly fascinated by his seidr, from his masterful displays of sorcery and deception on New Asgard’s training fields to simpler charms such as this. Everything about Loki was beautiful. Otherworldly. Unattainable.

He finally spoke up again, his tone guarded. “I do hope I didn’t cause any offense,” he said, his eyes darting over to you briefly before flicking away. “Thor and I… it’s complicated.”

You shook your head. “No, no, not at all,” you replied, trying to sound reassuring. “Your reaction was justified.”

There was another moment of silence before Loki let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. “He’s– things are just very different now.”

He was right. Everything was different. You tried to ignore the ache in your own grief-stricken heart as you cautiously reached out to touch Loki’s arm, hoping to offer some comfort. “I know,” you said softly.

Loki glanced down at your hand on his arm, then back up at you, his expression softening a little. “You do know, don’t you?”

Your breath hitched as you regarded him, taking in the way his eyes sparked with an intensity you’d never seen before. It sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about you in the same way you thought of him. Perhaps it was simply a trick of the glimmering light?

“And that’s part of the problem,” he continued. “Thor blames himself for everyone’s loss. Not just our people’s.”

Oh.

Suddenly he stopped walking, and you realized you’d reached the small gate that led to your cottage. For a moment, you hesitated, reluctant to say goodnight just yet. Loki had never spoken this openly with you before, and you didn’t want the conversation to end.

“Would you like to come in for some tea?” you asked as the twinkling orb disappeared from the space between you. Had he kept it lit only for your benefit?

“Ah, I’m afraid I must prepare for my journey to Vanaheim tomorrow.” He gave you a sad smile as you opened your gate, no doubt detecting the confusion on your face. “A strictly diplomatic visit. Valkyrie is aware. And it’s probably best if I spend some time away from New Asgard.”

“Well, the offer stands. You, me, and a cup of tea. Perhaps when you return?” you asked, attempting to conceal the disappointment in your voice. Loki didn’t owe you anything, after all.

“Of course. When I return.”

The next few days were relatively uneventful, all things considered. You continued your research of now-endangered fish species, while Valkyrie prepared for a convening with neighboring republics. Loki was off-planet, as were Nebula and Rocket.

And you hadn’t seen Thor since the meeting the other night, which was why you now found yourself in the God of Thunder’s cluttered cottage. He’d hastily greeted you at the door, pulling his long unkempt hair into a half ponytail before haphazardly scooping up an assortment of dirty dishes and carrying them to his kitchen.

“Thor, about the other night,” you began, plopping down on your usual spot on the sofa – the cushion nearest the fireplace. It was the one with the least amount of stains.

“Would you like some ale?” he asked roughly, avoiding eye contact as he opened his refrigerator door. You knew he was trying to avoid the subject, as he always did when confronted like this. But you weren’t going to let up so easily this time.

“Thor…”

He continued to ignore you, the sound of glass bottles clinking together echoing through the room like tiny bells ringing out in unison.

“You could, you know, try to be a bit more involved with– ” you paused, searching for the right words. “Human affairs. The people adore you, you know.”

“Perhaps they did. In the past.” Releasing a small grunt, Thor settled down on the sofa next to you. “But I’m afraid your attempts at flattery are in vain, little mortal.”

“I may just be a mortal, Thor, but I am doing the best I can with the hand we’ve been dealt. We all are. And regardless of whatever you think, we need your help.”

He merely scoffed, handing you a bottle of beer before putting his headset on and returning to his video game. Of course you had interrupted him in the middle of some imaginary battle.

Thor Odinson, king of Asgard, ancient warrior, Avenger, god among men. Toiling his eternal days away in a too-small, too-dark cottage, drinking ale and talking shit to teenagers halfway across the globe as he numbed himself to everything around him.

He had lost his purpose.

You empathized with him, you really did. And perhaps you were out of line to address him in such a manner. But in all the time you’d known him, he’d never once displayed even the smallest flicker of sovereignty. No, that responsibility had fallen upon his younger brother’s shoulders. And you could see the toll it was taking on Loki.

When I return.

His parting words echoed in your mind like distant thunder, each rumble a reminder of the restless storm brewing in your heart. You weren’t entirely sure if Loki would actually be returning this time. Perhaps it was the way he had looked at you when he said it – the mask of his unwavering stoicism falling aside for the briefest moment to reveal a kind of hesitant sorrow.

Tension swelled within you, like charged air, ready to erupt at any moment. The deep-seated longing you had tried to suppress for so long now was overpowering any modicum of resolve that remained within you. All you could do was hope the storm would eventually pass.

Frustrated, you sat in silence for a few more minutes before the urge to speak became overwhelming.

“Loki can’t keep going on this way. Managing everything himself,” you blurted out, curling a leg under you as you shifted to face the larger-than-life Asgardian.

“Ah, and there it is. It isn’t diplomacy, or the people of New Asgard, or even me you’re worried about here. It’s my brother.”

Thor punctuated those last three words, and they hit you like bolts of lightning, electrifying every nerve in your body. You winced at the intensity of his tone, but you couldn’t deny it was the truth. Loki’s predicament weighed heavily on your mind. You knew that you needed to gather your wits and find a way to respond, but for now, all you could do was stare at Thor, a silent plea in your eyes, hoping that he would understand the depth of your concern.

“It’s all right. He’s done it before,” Thor continued, casting you a sideways glance.

“Done what before?” you asked, baffled.

“Led the people of Asgard. Without me.”

What? You’d have to address that later. Thor must have somehow noted the look of abject shock on your face because he continued to divulge as he continuously – annoyingly – tapped a button on his game controller.

“Loki has always been better at this sort of thing. Since we were mere children, he’s always had the answers to all of our problems. The problems I inevitably create.”

You straightened your back, voice resolute despite your growing nerves.

“But do you want him to leave? Forever? He’s– you’re all the other has, Thor. If you keep pushing him away– I’m afraid he feels he has no reason to stay.”

“I say this with no malice, but unlike you, I’ve known Loki for a thousand years. He is not going anywhere,” Thor replied matter-of-factly. “He cares for our people more than he’s willing to openly admit.”

“That may be true, Thor. But– ”

“And you,” he interrupted, pausing his game and looking at you, his deep blue eyes searching your own. “You are reason enough for him to stay. Certainly you’ve realized that.”

For the second time in a matter of minutes, Thor had managed to completely stun you. You were reason enough? Surely he was mistaken. Despite all the small, genial moments between you, did Loki even consider you a friend? Much less someone worth sticking around for?

You opened your mouth, but no words formed on your heavy tongue. Instead, you heard your own incredulous laugh ringing around the room. None of this made sense.

“Thor, I– ”

“You’re not gonna believe the haul we got!” Rocket interrupted, scurrying through Thor’s front door and disrupting any thoughts that had started to form in your bewildered mind.

“Well, c’mon!” the raccoon panted, beckoning you both into the yard.

It was long past dusk, but the glow of the Guardian’s ship was unmistakable along the cliffside. You waved as Nebula exited the spacecraft, rolling her eyes as Rocket excitedly pulled open a hatch revealing a collection of foreign weapons.

“Thor, you shoulda been there. I’m tellin’ ya, it was wild…”

You greeted Nebula with a teasing eye roll of your own. “Successful expedition then?”

“If you consider obtaining inferior technology successful, then yes,” she replied simply, walking over to Thor’s makeshift fire pit. A mischievous grin spread across her face, reminding you of Loki. “I would like to make a fire.”

You glanced over at Thor, who seemed quite preoccupied with Rocket’s latest collection of artillery. At least something had him excited.

“Well, then, let’s make a fire,” you responded, clapping your hands together as you searched the darkened ground for something to use as kindling. “Go grab some firewood. Thor keeps it stacked out back,” you nodded at the lean-to behind his cottage. Nebula let out a dramatic huff as she headed off to grab the wood, and you chuckled as you gathered up some dry twigs and leaves.

Minutes later, the fire crackled to life, illuminating the darkness with its warm glow. Nebula settled down next to you on one of the logs surrounding the amber blaze, looking immensely pleased with herself. Once Thor noticed the merriment happening fireside, he tore his attention away from Rocket’s collection of weapons and came over to join you. His massive frame loomed over the lapping flames, his golden hair creating an ethereal outline around his chiseled face. For a brief moment, he looked younger, raw power radiating from his being. As flickering embers rose around him, you regarded him as the impressive god he was. Yet, as he passed you a large bottle of mead, you noted the hint of weariness lingering in his eyes.

He needed to be reminded of who he used to be. Who he could still be.

“Tell us about the time you slayed the Bilgesnipe hoard,” you giddily implored, hoping to distract him by recalling one of your favorite stories. He’d told it countless times before, but it never failed to entertain.

“Bilgesnipes, eh?” murmured Rocket, curling his lip as he grabbed the mead from your clutch. “I’ve heard their teeth can fetch a pretty penny.”

“Oh, what an epic day that was!” Thor beamed, his large hand falling heavily on Rocket’s back, knocking the wind out of the raccoon. “I was in the wilds of Asgard with the great warrior Volstagg, when all of a sudden…”

You listened intently for the next ten minutes as Thor paced around the roaring fire, jovially describing the most disgusting details of the carnage he inflicted upon the mythical creatures.

“And then– ” Thor paused, eyeballing one of the discarded weapons on the ground beyond the pit. He walked over to it and picked it up, examining it with a playful snicker.

“I wielded the mighty Mjölnir, hurling it right between the antlers of the pack leader,” he said, dramatically lifting the alien artillery above his head.

“Go on then, show us how it’s done!” you shouted as you rose to your feet, feeling the effects of the Asgardian mead rush to your head. Nebula and Rocket both looked skeptical, but you egged him on, enthralled by the idea of seeing Thor wield the foreign weapon in his signature style.

He grinned, swinging the silver contraption around his head with a flourish. But just as he was about to release it toward the cliffside, the weapon malfunctioned, shooting off sparks and emitting a loud, ear-piercing screech.

Then everything went black.

It had been a long day. A long few days, Loki thought as he poured himself a cup of tea. Taking a slow sip, his keen eyes narrowed as he stared at Stormbreaker leaning against his kitchen island. It was probably time to return the axe to Thor – if he even missed it at all.

Loki was teetering on the verge of exhaustion, and hadn’t even bothered to change out of his ceremonial armor. He had spent the last three days on Vanaheim, checking in on the realm’s remaining population. He would never be able to shake the nagging responsibility he still felt to the citizens of the Nine, especially his mother’s people. Not after he had failed them on such a massive scale.

In the immediate aftermath of the Snap, Thor had joined him on these royal visits across the galaxy, but now Loki went it alone. A small part of him still felt the sting of collective disappointment from the Vanir when he arrived via the Bifrost without his brother. It wasn’t that Thor didn’t care, though, and deep down, Loki knew that. He just hoped the others understood.

You understood, at least. And even though he’d been realms away, Loki could not escape you. He didn’t want to.

Just yesterday, as he observed the Vanir children practicing seidr, one of the younglings had conjured a small orb of light, and Loki was overwhelmed with thoughts of you. How your face lit up every time he displayed even the smallest bit of magic. How your infectious wonderment was slowly chipping away at his resolve. How he felt a spark of something he thought he’d never experience again each time you touched him, always so gentle, as if you were afraid he would break…

A sudden bang made him spin around, instinctively conjuring his daggers as his mug clattered to the floor. The front door had flung open with such force that it splintered around the hinges, its agonizing creak reverberating around the cottage like a death knell.

Loki huffed, dissipating his weapons as he realized who the culprit was.

“Nebula, I have warned you– ”

“Loki.”

Something about her tone had a bitterness burning his throat – the usual monotonous cadence he’d come to expect from the humanoid had been replaced with something else. A sense of urgency? Before he could swallow down the acrid taste in his mouth and respond, all hell broke loose.

Everything happened all at once and yet Loki felt like time stopped. A guttural howl cut through the biting wind. Thor. It was a sound he’d hoped to never hear again. Loki’s heart lurched, then plummeted to the depths of the earth’s core as Nebula stepped aside, revealing his brother’s imposing form, outlined by glowing moonlight in the darkened doorway.

Thor’s shirt and forearms were smeared with a dark red substance, your slack body clutched against his chest.

No.

Loki lunged forward as Thor stumbled into the cottage. The look of sheer panic on his brother’s face sent a surge of fear into the depths of Loki’s soul.

No.

“What have you done?” Loki barked out, his hands hovering apprehensively above your body, afraid to touch you.

“They– I– I shot them, Loki,” Thor stuttered, his blue eyes conveying a portentous sorrow Loki hadn’t seen since their mother died.

NO.

This couldn’t be happening. Loki’s chest constricted as his eyes frantically darted from Thor’s stricken face to your pallid one. You looked… were you? He shook the macabre thought from his mind. No. Not you. Not if he could help it.

“Fuck! Here, put them down. Gently.” Loki quickly cleared a spot on his kitchen table with a flick of his wrist.

“Nebula,” Loki said tersely. “How did this happen? What type of weaponry did this?” He glanced at Thor, who still had not let go of your body despite it being strewn across the wooden table. Loki’s brows furrowed in earnest concentration as he returned his attention to you, magically removing your coat and sweater as his fingertips ghosted over your wound. He flicked his head to the side as he slowly, carefully began to weave his seidr around the gaping flesh.

“It was an accident. I– I swear it,” Thor sputtered, choking down a sob.

“Enough!” Loki bellowed, the intensity of his outburst causing Thor to finally release you from his grasp. “Get out of the way, you useless oaf, and let me handle this. Like I’ve always done,” Loki growled before nodding at Nebula.

“Tell me.”

“Contraxian. There was a malfunction,” Nebula answered somberly. Loki’s eyes once again focused on the laceration across your midriff, noting your breathing seemed to be a bit less labored than before.

“Accident or not, this is too much blood.” Loki’s voice was unwavering, but he could no longer conceal the anxiety creeping across his features. He just needed to stop the bleeding.

Loki steadied himself with a deep, measured breath before drawing on every bit of power he possessed. As he felt the eerily familiar surge of energy course through his veins, Loki thought back to the last time he’d been forced to access this facet of his seidr. That cursed day on the Statesman. He would not – could not – fail this time. But you’d lost so much blood already.

Far too much for a mortal.

“Can’t you do something?” his brother implored, running a hand through his wild blonde hair as he paced around the room.

“I am doing something, but I am not a healer, Thor!”

“Wake up, kid,” panted Rocket. In the brief moment Loki had taken his eyes off of you, the raccoon had hopped onto the table and was now peering down at you. A cold fury burned in Loki’s gaze as he watched the creature pat your cheek with a small paw.

Your eyes fluttered open and Loki finally exhaled the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in.

“See? They’re fine. It’s just a flesh wound, drama queen,” Rocket commented as he leaned over your wound, examining the tendrils of seidr. They weaved around the lesion, binding together to create a bandage of pulsating, shimmering gold. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ve seen worse– ”

That fucking furry arsehole.

“Move back, you insolent rabbit,” Loki spat, giving the raccoon a malicious glare. “And better yet, leave. Now. Before I turn you into a fur stole.”

He continued to thread his seidr around your fragile body, praying to the Norns above that it would be enough.

“Loki…” you groaned, lifting your eyes to meet his. The sound of his name on your lips sent a small rush of relief through Loki. But your dazed expression let him know that you were having trouble focusing. He wondered if you even realized what had transpired. You let out a rugged sigh as you attempted to sit up, but Loki gently pressed a steady hand against your shoulder.

“No, don’t move. Please. Conserve your energy,” he implored, running his fingers along your face.

“I’m– I’m okay.” You gave him a weak smile, reaching out to him before your eyes fluttered shut again. Loki wrapped his fingers around your trembling hand in an effort to calm you both.

“Yea– yes. You’re going to be okay,” he repeated in a whisper, unsure if it was for your benefit or his. He glanced down at the lesion again, and though his vision was slightly blurred from the tears frustratingly welling in his eyes, he could see that he’d been successful this time.

“I– I think I’ve stopped the bleeding,” he said finally, looking around the room and finding no solace there.

Exasperated and drained, he grabbed his cape from a nearby chair, wrapping it around your body before lifting you into his arms as he turned to Thor and Nebula.

“But we need the healers. Now.”

Loki jolted awake at the sound of the door closing. Slivers of receding sunlight filtered through the aluminum blinds, casting long streaks of light across the modest space. It took Loki a moment to find his bearings, and he blinked slowly, watching the warm light dance across the walls.

Someone had been in your room at the clinic, and he’d slept through it. Norns, when had he dozed off?

His gaze flitted between your motionless form and the intravenous bag at your bedside. Grimacing, he wiped an embarrassing amount of dribble from his lips. Gods, I am truly losing it, he thought. He discarded the open book in his lap as he stood, stretching his aching limbs and following the attendant into the hallway.

Loki grasped the woman’s shoulder as she filed a chart, an irritated expression marring his face.

“What did you give them?” he demanded hoarsely, voice still thick with remnants of sleep.

“Something for the pain,” the nurse explained. Her voice was kind. Soft. Forgiving. It reminded Loki of his mother. It made him furious.

“While the healers were able to mend the wound and provide a sleeping spell, pain management is still necessary,” she continued.

You were in pain.

Loki huffed, warily turning back to look through the doorway at you. His brows furrowed as he regarded your current state. Was the extent of your injury so severe you needed something more than Aesir magic could provide?

He flinched when the nurse patted his shoulder. Are all Midgardian healers this bold? he wondered.

“Nothing to be concerned about,” she continued, obviously sensing his unease. “I assure you, your highness, it is a common treatment for humans.”

“Right. Of course.”

He gave a curt nod and quietly made his way back to what had to be the most wretched chair in the universe, shifting his thighs on the seat in an attempt to find a comfortable position. He glanced at you, your body lax against the meager, rigid hospital cot. At that moment, Loki made a mental note to secure funding to update the clinic’s furnishings.

By all the Nine. He never imagined this would be his life: Thinking of ways to improve the day-to-day operations of the Midgardian healthcare system. Negotiating border policies and peace treaties with diplomats. Researching patterns of pollen limitation. Reading your infuriatingly charming reports about the migration patterns of fish…

Of course, these were not things totally unfamiliar to him. He was a prince, after all. A beacon of diplomacy and guile. But Thanos had changed everything. Loki winced as he tried to shake the dark memories encroaching on his mind. He inhaled, focusing on his surroundings.

The uncomfortable chair. The fading scent of antiseptic. The acrid taste lingering on his tongue. The cool leather against his skin. The dull beeping of machines by the bed. The mortal before him.

Not just any mortal, though. You.

Your presence alone challenged the carefully measured control he held over his emotions. And, much to Loki’s chagrin, you had managed to wind your way into his heart. It had changed him in ways he had never thought possible.

Loki let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to get a grip. But he did not leave your side.

“Can you hear me?” he asked softly, inching closer to the bed. There was no answer, only the sound of your faint snores. The sleeping spell was working, then.

You looked so meek. So fragile. It pained him to see you this way. Part of him wondered what would happen if you suddenly awoke to find him there. Would you be pleasantly surprised? Confused? Or worse, disappointed to find that he was the one watching over you?

Would you even care? His heart constricted painfully in his chest at the thought.

He concluded that he would accept whatever outcome. Any response at all would relieve him of the incessant worry churning in the pit of his stomach. He just needed to know you were going to be okay.

Loki’s eyes burned as he blinked back tears. One large hand raked through his wild curls, and he scowled as he shifted back into the seat. How could you have been so careless?

“You infuriate me.” He felt half-mad, confessing to you this way.

“You brilliant, reckless creature. It’s no wonder Thor befriended you. You’re always too eager to go along with his half-brained schemes.”

Loki, admittedly, had been reluctant to accept your friendship. He wondered now why he’d fought against it for so long. He leaned forward, cautiously caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers.

“I’ve not been a good friend to you, have I?”

He paused, recalling all the times you’d been so infuriatingly kind to him. How he wished he had not refused your invitation for tea. Perhaps if he’d been more open with you, perhaps if he had stayed…

“The way you look at me,” he continued. “The way you see me… I don’t deserve it. None of us do.”

“Thor’s guilt is slowly consuming him. And I don’t know what to do. I realize we all have our own ways of coping. Dealing with this… immense loss. What I do know is that I cannot stand by and let you become a victim of his destructive behavior.”

Loki leaned forward, taking your hand in his. What a fool he’d been, so assured that his burgeoning infatuation would pass. A lopsided smile crossed his face as he looked at you, and he finally let the walls around his heart come crashing down.

“I– I care for you, too much to let any harm come your way. I only wish I had realized it sooner.”

With a deep sigh, he rested his head on the mattress, his raven curls fanning across your thigh as his eyes fluttered closed. He never let go of your hand.

This time, Loki heard when someone entered the room but didn’t bother moving away from your bedside.

“I’ve never seen the prince act with such concern for anyone,” a lilted voice commented.

“I have known Loki his entire life. And though he may often refuse to acknowledge his own feelings, I have no doubt he cares fiercely for those he loves.”

Loki frowned, recognizing the second voice immediately. It was Eir, Odin’s former head physician and now New Asgard’s top healer.

“I’m awake, you know,” Loki finally responded when he heard the younger healer leave the room.

“Yes, and that’s exactly why I said what I said.” Eir cast Loki a cautious glance as he righted himself, a glow of seidr washing over him, concealing any lingering signs of exhaustion.

“You cannot hide from me, boy. You’ve been sitting vigil here for nearly a full day. And don’t think I’m unaware of the toll the magicks you wielded to stabilize your friend took on your body. When was the last time you actually slept, Loki?”

The nerve. Loki stood to his full height in an attempt to regain some semblance of power. He peered down at the old healer, her keen glare meeting his own. Her silver brows furrowed, wrinkles carving an ancient map across her face. Loki sometimes wondered if she was as old as the Norns themselves.

“That is no concern of yours, Eir,” Loki responded haughtily, rolling his shoulders back and regally tossing his dark locks over his shoulder. “And I would remind you to not speak so casually when in the presence of the crowned prince of Asgard, lest you forget your place again.”

Of course, Eir was right, and he knew it. Perhaps that is what bothered him most of all.

He had to get out of here. He didn’t want to leave you, but he knew he couldn’t stay another minute. Loki bundled his cape in one large fist and strode past her.

“Your friend is going to be okay, Loki. I promise you, by Frigga’s grace.”

Loki froze at the mention of his mother’s name. He closed his eyes as his fingers curled around the doorframe, bracing himself for an impact that never came. Still, he did not turn around.

“Once the sleeping charm wears off, we’ll discharge them. Likely sometime tomorrow morning. Do you want to be informed when that happens?”

Finally, Loki glanced over his shoulder, his narrowed eyes flitting from you back to Eir.

“Ah, no. No, that won’t be necessary.” He turned and walked into the hallway before exalting a final command.

“You will alert my brother when it is time to accompany our friend back home, understood?”

He didn’t wait for the response.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki hurt/comfort #loki fluff #loki laufeyson x you #loki fanfiction

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rippleclan · 30 days

Text

RippleClan: Moon 35

Shadowdrop made Carnationspeckle laugh again and again.

[Image ID: Shadowdrop talks with Carnationspeckle. Rattlepelt watches from afar. Under Rattlepelt, it says LEVEL UP! PREY CLEANER -> LEATHER ARTIST.

(Rattlepelt: 18, female, artisan, fierce, leather artist)

(Shadowdrop: 27, male, codekeeper, sneaky, eloquent speaker, good teacher)

(Carnationspeckle: 37, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

Downstar calls for a Clan meeting and declares Mousepaw to be a codekeeper. She is now called Mousesong.

[Image ID: Mousepaw, now Mousesong, faces Rattlepelt. Mousesong says “Thanks, I suppose.” Under Mousesong, it says LEVEL UP! MOUSEPAW -> MOUSESONG, ODDLY OBSERVANT -> KEEN EYE.)

---

Rattlepelt wanted to start a new tradition in the warrior’s den. Rabbitjoy was all for helping her collect the needed materials, so all the pair had to do was wake up early and prepare. It gave Rattlepelt something else to think about other than Shadowdrop.

It wasn’t that Rattlepelt disliked him. He was a fine codekeeper and helped Rattlepelt improve some recipes on occasion. But he was not the right fit for Carnationspeckle. Carnationspeckle was selfless, kind, talented, and understanding. Shadowdrop simply wasn’t. Carnationspeckle assured Rattlepelt that she was just friends with Shadowdrop, and while Rattlepelt believed her mother, she didn’t think Shadowdrop felt the same. That, combined with her sister’s codekeeper ceremony the night before, made it hard for Rattlepelt to sleep. So, she worked.

“I don’t think she’ll like it,” Rabbitjoy muttered as dawn rose. The brown molly plucked down from between her claws. She and Rattlepelt sat outside the warrior’s den. Their Clanmates walked around them

“We might as well see,” Rattlepelt sighed just as the newly named Mousesong entered camp. The name did not fit the way the white molly held her head high and walked through camp without a glance at anyone else. Rattlepelt swallowed hard as Mousesong trudged to the warrior’s den.

“Mousesong!” Rattlepelt called as the newly named codekeeper approached. “Congratulations on your ceremony.”

“Thanks,” Mousesong muttered. “Where can I sleep?”

“That’s what we wanted to show you,” Rabbitjoy explained. She slipped behind Rattlepelt and into the den. She stopped beside Mousesong’s new nest. There was an odd, furry lump sitting in the nest. It was made of mouse pelts, held together with twine. Mousesong pawed the bundle and it squished under the pressure. It fluffed back up when she moved her paw.

“What is this?” Mousesong asked.

“Something we invented,” Rattlepelt chirped. “I tanned some mouse leather and Rabbitjoy tied them together. We stuffed down and moss in between the two. You can lay your head on it, and it’s like resting on someone’s side. I picked mouse pelts since I know you like mice.” Mousesong crawled into her new nest and slowly put her head on the fluff-ball. “I’m hoping we can make little gifts like these for new graduates in the future.”

“Why?” Mousesong huffed, lifting her head.

“Because it shows that we appreciate everything you’ve done,” Rattlepelt insisted. Mousesong eyed both Rattlepelt and Rabbitjoy. Rabbitjoy squirmed under Mousesong’s cold eyes, but Rattlepelt stood firm.

“Thanks, I suppose,” Mousesong muttered. “You didn’t have to do that. Either of you.” She laid back down and said, “I’ll catch something good for you both after I sleep.”

“That’s a promise,” Rattlepelt chirped. “We’ll let you rest. Sweet dreams, Mousesong!” Mousesong stared at her the whole way out of the warrior’s den. Rabbitjoy glanced back a dozen times as she and Rattlepelt made their way to the “artisan’s corner” of camp, where they had their tanning rack and other crafting tools set up.

“I can’t tell if she liked the fluff-ball,” Rabbitjoy sighed. “I’m impressed she didn’t rip into you.”

“She cares, even if she doesn’t admit it,” Rattlepelt said. “I know she does. It scares her, that’s all.”

“You show her more grace than I can,” Rabbitjoy said, shaking her head with a soft chuckle.

“She’s my sister,” Rattlepelt huffed. “Of course I do.”

(Rattlepelt: 18, female, artisan, fierce, leather artist)

(Rabbitjoy: 72, female, artisan, charismatic, master weaver)

(Mousesong: 12, female, codekeeper, loyal, keen eye)

Palekit found a hole in the rocks and, curious as all kits are, stuck her paw inside. The whole camp comes running when she screeches in pain. It seems a snake was living in that hole.

[Image ID: Weedfoot, Fennelspot, and Scrubmask run toward Palekit, who is screaming “Momma!” Under Palekit, it says + NEW SKILL: PICKY NEST BUILDER. + CONDITION: SNAKE BITE,]

---

Palekit’s scream stirred a sleeping fear in Weedfoot that she thought had long since faded.

She had been sharing stew with Fennelspot and Scrubmask, admiring the petals the former now kept tucked into his white patch. Clammask was on nursery duty, and Weedfoot could hear her children’s giggles from the other side of camp. There shouldn’t have been a reason to be on edge. And yet, as Weedfoot dipped her muzzle into the bowl for another sip of soup, a kitten’s wail pierced the peace hovering over camp.

Weedfoot was running before she even processed what she saw. Palekit, whose eyes were shifting to match her father and whose strong legs had been the first of her litter to walk, now cradled one leg close as a slick black snake stuck its head out of a hole in the rocks.

“Momma!” Palekit wept. Fear-scent flooded her tiny body as she stared at the snake. Even with Weedfoot’s head start, Fennelspot was faster. He snatched Palekit by the scruff and dragged her away from the snake. Carnationspeckle had been sharing tongues with Downstar and bolted out of the leader’s den at the little kit’s cry. The young caretaker spotted the snake and pounced. Her fangs sunk into the snake’s neck. She shook the snake wildly and flung it over the rocks and out of camp.

“Palekit, when did you leave the den?” Clammask hurried out of the nursery. Weedfoot’s four other children lingered behind her. Poor Weedfoot’s attention was solely focused on her oldest daughter, who shook as she wailed.

“Momma’s here, Palekit,” Weedfoot cooed as Fennelspot examined the bite on Palekit’s leg.

“What do you need?” Downstar barked, already running for the medicine den.

“It’s not venomous!” Fennelspot yowled, waving Downstar off. “The bite is not venomous.”

“How do you know?” Scrubmask asked as the rest of RippleClan gathered around Fennelspot and Weedfoot.

“Do you see how the bite wound forms an arch?” Fennelspot explained as Weedfoot groomed Palekit’s head. “That means the snake does not have venom. I believe it was a black ratsnake. They can hurt, but they aren’t deadly.”

“Is she okay?” Downstar huffed, glaring at Fennelspot with more fire in her eyes than Weedfoot had seen in moons.

“She will be,” Fennelspot promised. “We just need to clean the bite and make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“I want my dad,” Palekit cried, burying her little face in her mother’s fur.

“Has anyone seen James today?” Scrubmask called to the crowd.

“He took a walk with Parsley and Rustshade,” Carnationspeckle said, spitting snake blood out of her mouth. “I can find them.”

“Go,” Downstar huffed, nodding. Carnationspeckle looped around the crowd and jogged out of camp.

“I don’t like this,” Palekit moaned.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Weedfoot promised, picking Palekit up by the scruff. As she did so, her head swam. She steadied her paws and shoved the dizziness back. She may have still been weak from the difficult birth, but stars-damn it, she was going to carry her daughter to the medicine den.

[Image ID: Waspkit, Lavenderkit, Ripplekit, and Puddlekit hog the screen. Under Ripplekit, it says + NEW SKILLS: AVID PLAY-FIGHTER, SPLASHES IN PUDDLES. Under Puddlekit, it says + NEW SKILL: MORBID CURIOSITY. Under Lavenderkit, it says + NEW SKILL: LOVES TO SING. Under Waspkit, it says + NEW SKILL: INTERESTED IN CLAN HISTORY.]

As Weedfoot and Fennelspot brought Palekit into the medicine den, four pairs of blue-tinted eyes watched them from the nursery. Clammask stood in front of them with her tail running over each of their little backs.

“Did any of you notice Palekit leave the nursery?” Clammask sighed, turning back to the kits.

“She was playing with Puddlekit,” Waspkit immediately said, pointing his tail at his younger brother.

“I didn’t think we had to stay in the nursery,” Puddlekit whined. Without his white blaze and deep blue eyes, he would look just like his injured sister, albeit a bit more pathetic (in Waspkit’s eyes at least).

“Puddlekit is in trouble,” Lavenderkit sang, trotting around Puddlekit. “Puddlekit is in trouble!”

“No he isn’t!” Ripplekit whined, smacking her white-splashed brother’s flank. “It’s no one’s fault!”

“Ripplekit is right,” Clammask added. “This was a bad accident. The snake could have bitten anyone. If anything, I’m to blame for not keeping an eye on your sister.”

“Clammask is in trouble, Clammask is in trouble,” Lavenderkit sang, throwing himself on Clammask’s leg.

“I’m going to sit outside,” Clammask sighed, gently shoving Lavenderkit off. “Keep yourselves entertained, you four.” She stepped off the leather floor and onto the warm sand. She laid across the entrance, trapping the four remaining kits inside the nursery.

“Listen!” Waspkit yowled. He waved his tail wildly to catch his littermates’ attention. “Palekit’s hurt! No more getting hurt, everyone.”

“I promise,” Puddlekit said quietly.

“I’ll do what I want!” Lavenderkit huffed. He launched himself on his front paws, but his headstand attempt proved futile. He tumbled forward and his flank landed right in Waspkit’s face. Waspkit growled and launched into a full assault on his brother. Ripplekit squealed and joined the fight. Puddlekit watched from the sidelines.

Unbeknownst to any of the small kits, their laughter warmed the frigid air suffocating the camp.

(Weedfoot: 84, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(Fennelspot: 92, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

(Scrubmask: 52, female, warrior, gloomy, fast runner, good hunter)

(Palekit: 1, female, kit, impulsive, picky nest builder)

(Carnationspeckle: 37, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Clammask: 29, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)

(Downstar: 93, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Waspkit: 1, male, kit, bossy, interested in clan history)

(Puddlekit: 1, male, kit, polite, morbid curiosity)

(Lavenderkit: 1, male, kit, noisy, likes to sing)

(Ripplekit: 1, female, kit, know-it-all, avid play-fighter, splashes in puddles)

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cloudninetonine · 10 months

Note

I will get on my knees and beg for a yandere!Mecha drabble.ლ⁠(⁠・⁠﹏⁠・⁠ლ⁠)

"I would do anything for you."

The following pause was almost thunderous despite the complete lack of noise.

You eyes had moved from your fishing pole slowly, similar to your usual comedic effect but lacking the actual comedy from the real confusion shown as you stared up at Mecha. His own artificial eyes stared back, company made plastic that shone an aquatic blue as they studied your rigid form with not an ounce of emotion behind them.

"...What have you done?"

Your tone held an accusation but not the angered kind. No, the feelings behind it felt more similar to the tone you’d address a pet, waiting patiently at the front door awaiting the arrival of it’s owner when they finally walked through the door and realised their furry roommate seemed a little too nice that day. What had he done? What had he left behind? And would you be the one cleaning up the mess after it all?

“Nothing, nothing, I swear.” He chuckled, turning back to his own fishing pole- a gift from you, so he wouldn’t have to sit stagnant alongside you. Something that made him feel a little more human. “I just…I thought you should know.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, lips pulled in an overly mocking pout before you kissed you teeth with a growing goofy smile, turning back to the slow stream. “I would do anything for you too.”

“You don’t need to, I am perfectly fine with doing anything.”

“Nu-uh.”

“Ya-huh.”

“Are you calling me incompetent?”

Even with a forever permanent smile, he stilled seemed to he smirking. “What if I am?”

“Then you better put those hands up to fight.”

You really were adorable. Did you really think you stood a chance against him? Your shorter, meat filled arms that could so easily snap under the pressure of even an inch of his strength? Something he knew too well, when he had killed those monsters that got too close or that odd Hylian who thought being in your presence didn’t have such dastardly consequences- bugs. The whole lot of them. Bugs beneath his feet, just like he was compared to your radiance, a mere bug that you could so easily step on but chose to spare from the depths of your love filled heart.

You playfully punched his arm, cringing and shaking off the pain that came with beating hardened plastic when he caught your wrist, fingers gently running over your knuckles.

Such delicate skin. So soft and so warm- not that he could feel it of course. But he knew. Mecha knew deep down in his soul, so broken and decayed, that your whole being was perfect. One of these days, no matter what, he would feel it. He would do anything, would kneel before the goddess and beg, would detach himself from this wretched prison- would steal a body of one of those stupid heroes if it meant he could feel the warmth of your skin against his.

Mecha longed for humanity, longed to be with you- he craved it. Craved it like the bees craved pollen, craved it like the fish craved water. Mecha didn’t just want you, he needed you. Screw those heroes who bore the same name as he, Mecha loved you more than they ever could. The animatronic was simply the best, even with this disgusting body of metal he could protect you with no sweat on his brow and that was what he was made for. His true purpose wasn’t to be just a hero but your hero.

Carefully, Mecha brushed your knuckles against his plastic lips. He may have not had the assets but the intention was there and to see you giggle, flustered before returning the sentiment, your lips presumingly gently kissing his mechanical knuckles was worth it.

Mecha would bleed this land dry if it meant he would be the one you would hold dear.

#cloud answers #linked universe #linked universe x reader #lu #linked universe imagine #player au #a player's aid #mecha #yandere linked universe #my beloved boy got a requesttttt #Anon asks

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blackopals-world · 1 year

Text

"Sea Foam" part 3

Marine Biologist!FemYuu x Azul Ashengrotto Rielle (angst, slight yandere Rielle)

Part 1 part 2

What is more fortunate than one who is so desperate to love and one who wishes to be loved?

Be cautious about who you cling to.

"I love you." He said kissing her and stroking her cheek.

Yuu knew what she wanted to say but couldn't. Her voice wouldn't come out. The words wouldn't leave her.

They had met on a school trip at RSA. He was a prince from the Coral Sea who transferred recently.

They crossed paths and immediately he was in love. It was love at first sight. Immediately he wanted to get to know her.

From Yuu's perspective, he was very fun and kind. She didn't know much about him but they exchanged numbers and talked about making plans.

Before she knew it, they were together. He showered her with attention and praise.

"I'm so lucky to have you. My cute little human." Rielle would kiss her cheek when he said it.

Whenever they would walk on the shore hand and hand Yuu would talk out her favorite fish. Octopus, squids, cuttlefish, eels and jellyfish just to name a few. Rielle would hold her hand tighter.

"Those fish aren't very cute. What about seals?" He asked.

"But seals are mammals, love. I study marine life." She responded feeling uncomfortable with the tight grip.

"Right, right! The sea is boring, full off not cute things. Mammals are cute. You're cute and shouldn't be near ugly things like squids. Understand?" Rielle phrased it like a question but it came out more like a demand.

Yuu eventually learned not to talk about sea life around Rielle. He had no interest in the sea and wanted her to do the same. When she asked asked why his answer was clear.

"It's too dangerous. You can't breathe water and you are no mer. It's best to say away. My poor fragile Yuu, you'd be eaten right up." His face was flushed red as she said this he imagined his delicate lover struggling in the waves all alone.

Yuu felt very unsettled but went along with it.

"Humans are so cute. These reflexes you have are amazing. When water hits your head you instinctively hold your breath. It's so cute. You're the cutest of all Yuu. That's why I have to protect you." He'd hold her so tight as he said this.

Yuu wished he'd stop using cute as a compliment. She wished he'd call her something else.

Jade never intended to spy but while crossing campus he stopped a redhead who didn't belong here. The one that had swept Yuu away from them. He and Floyd had been rather grumpy since she stopped meeting them in secret because of him.

"Ohh~ She just so cute. You have to just hear her talk all meek and sweet. She smiles the best when she's sad though. Just seeing the way she trembles trying to fight off her emotions. Nothing compares to my darling. Humans are the best. I knew getting one would be so entertaining. I've always wanted a human." He said over the reciver.

Jade agreed somewhat. Shrimpy was cute, everyone with eyes knew that. Under all those sweet words Rielle made it clear his interest was based on her being human. Did he even like her for anything else?

"...What? No, she isn't perfect but no one is. She used to talk so much about octopuses. It didn't suit her at all. So ugly. Why would she like stuff like that when she lives on land? She should like all the cute furry creatures here. But my princess has learned her lesson and it's all for the best."

Jade's fist felt itchy. How dare he! How fucking dare he!

Jade stopped himself from turning Rielle red in more places than his head when Yuu appeared. Blissfully unaware of how her boyfriend views her.

But Jade was mistaken. She was very aware and had heard him as well, but that's the problem with toxic relationships. Even if she knew it she did accept it. After all who else could love her? Even if it disgusted her it was all the more reason to stay.

Just like with Azul.

She loved him so much yet he found her love to be disgusting. How can she do that to Rielle who loves her like that? It was proof he did care if she feels so twisted up inside.

"You love me right?" Rielle asked again.

The words still didn't come out. No matter how much she struggled.

"Mm-hmm." She hummed instead as she nodded her head.

Rielle stared blankly at her before his bright smile returned.

"Your even cuter when you lie, you know," he whispered in her ear as he pulled her into a hug. "But I'll forgive you this time."

This series only has one part left. Time for my fist poll.

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littlemisslipbalm · 2 years

Text

You're My Best Friend

Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Summary: When your best friend Jake asks you to watch his cats and apartment for him, memories of your time spent together in his home come to mind. When he comes home, things are the same yet also completely different.

Enjoy!!! Also pls let me know what you think...through reblogs or messages to me. I love to talk about my little stories, it means so much to me. Also I'm already thinking about a part 2 w smut so if that sounds like something you'd be interested in lmk.

Word Count: 8.2k Warnings: swearing, cats, a little angst over money, slow burn, besties to lovers, Jake being just a regular dude (my favorite)

Being best friends with Jake Kiszka was a lot of fun. Good music, good alcohol and good times were all things Y/N enjoyed with him. It wasn’t like she didn’t have a life when Jake wasn’t around, she had other friends and plenty of interests that didn’t involve him. But the thing was that for the past two and a half years, Jake had been around.

The pandemic had kept him in Nashville by her side rather than touring the world. Because of the pandemic, it also meant everyone was limited from seeing people. Not being able to see anyone besides his brothers led Jake to seek comfort in something else. And as much as he loved hanging out with Y/N, he could only see her every so often. Much to his brothers and her confusion, he decided to adopt some furry friends.

Jake had called her up and said, “Which do you think cats prefer, fish treats or shrimp treats?”

“Shrimp are better,” She replied easily. “But why?”

“Ok, shrimp. Oh…I have become a father.” He said easily.

“Jake, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“You’ll see, come over later, shrimp.” He finished and then hung up. From that moment forward, Jake had found a new nickname for his best friend.

When Y/N showed up at his apartment later, she saw what he had been talking about. Two cats. One was an older blonde mancoon mix. The other was a younger, maybe just a year old, black long haired cat. Pretentiously named ‘Falcor’ and ‘Onyx’ but actually called ‘Cheese’ and ‘Hot Dog’. Jake spoiled them with treats and learned all of their idiosyncrasies over the next six months. As much as she liked cats, Y/N honestly didn’t spend all that much time with them. Before long the world was back in a place where the band could tour and naturally music was Jake’s first love and the cats couldn’t exactly jetset with him.

This was the first time Jake had asked his best friend to do more than just water a few of his plants while he was gone. And even that she felt like she was a little out of practice with. Still, watching cats was a lot more than going over to his place every day for half an hour to water the plants. This required her to stay at Jake’s place.

Jake walked her through the cats’ entire spiel, but still the first day left Y/N confused and worried about how she would perform as their caregiver. She tried her best to make them happy, feeding them the shrimp treats and turning on the shower faucet so that Cheese could drink water the way Jake said he liked.

Jake asked her to send as many pictures as she thought was best, so she sent multiple videos and pictures a day, hoping they’d give him some joy while stuck inside planes and buses. Still, a lot of her day was relatively empty. It left her to explore Jake’s apartment. She’d been there hundreds if not thousands of times. It was, by all accounts, extremely Jake.

The walls were a nice off white and delicately and tastefully decorated with art that was dark and interesting along with a few band posters that were signed and framed. House plants littered a bookshelf that received plenty of sunlight from the large windows at the front of his second story place. A blue rug spanned across the living room.

There was a room with a door Jake kept shut from the cats. His music room. One Les Paul hung left behind on the wall next to his first ever acoustic that his dad had given him. Various awards were placed lovingly across a vanity and a futon was in there if Jake ever had a guest.

Despite the futon, Jake had insisted that she sleep in his bed while he was away.

“You can use my bed,” He said off-handedly as he gestured to his bedroom.

“Not the futon?”

“Why would you sleep on the futon when the bed is open and perfectly and completely comfortable, shrimp?”

She wasn’t really against it, but it felt weird to be sleeping in Jake’s bed for over a couple months. “It’s your bed.”

“And? You’ve slept in it before, shrimp, now it’s just gonna be without me. The boys like sleeping in it when someone’s in there, too.”

She smiled tightly, finding no way to refuse, not really knowing why she would refuse anyway. “’Kay. Me and the boys’ll keep it warm for ya’.”

Jake had grinned at her with his sparkling brown eyes and thrown his arms around her in a squeezing hug. “Miss you already,” He mumbled into her ear before making kissy noises to the two furballs lurking in the hallway before walking out the door.

On some occasions she’d wander into the music room to take the acoustic down from the wall. She’d take a seat on the futon and check the tuning of it. When Jake learned that his best friend knew how to play guitar – barely, as she always said – but didn’t tune by ear, he scoffed and insisted that he teach her.

He also thought capos were the devil, but she refused to acquiesce to his music snobbery and brought one of her own. She placed it against the third fret and began to strum at the strings. They weren’t new, but they also weren’t terribly old, she could feel them against her fingers. Jake must have restrung them within the past three months.

Thinking about Jake, playing his beloved guitar in his music room made her fingers twitch into a familiar pattern. The first song Jake had also insisted that she learn, four years ago. She told him she mostly just played old country songs her grandfather used to play for her as a child. While Jake had genuinely smiled and silently admired her playing, he had also ribbed her for being a country bumpkin and insisted she learn something not so boring. She had rolled her eyes and reminded him that he was from a smaller town than she was.

“You gotta learn something more upbeat. Get the blood pumping.” He elbowed her playfully and carefully shoved his guitar into her lap.

“What song?”

Jake shook his head, instead instructing her on which chords to play. “Strum an F major 7, C, good. G. Just repeat that five times.”

He nodded his head as she strummed and listened to his words. Every so often she looked between the neck where her fingers played a little clumsily and Jake’s face. His lips quirked in an encouraging smile as he raised his brows at her, wanting her to continue.

“Okay now A minor. Then back to C, and G.” He pauses when she fumbles the chords. “Repeat through A minor and then a Dsus 2.”

She went through the chords, slowing as it becomes more complicated and then pausing completely when she gets to the Dsus chord. She felt embarrassed, her face flushing. At the time, Jake was already a good friend, but it was still relatively early in their friendship. They’d only known each other for a year. She still got overwhelmed by his famous musician energy, as well as his sheer undeniable talent. It was hard to ignore in a situation like this.

“I don’t, um,” She took a breath, eyes fluttering down at the guitar where her fingers hovered, confused. “I don’t know that one. I just know the basics, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jake smiled quickly, immediately remembering when he was an initial learner and dialing back his instruction. Less demanding and more explanation. “Here,” He offered, scooting closer on his futon, bumping their knees together when he reached his left hand to cover hers.

His body had angled to almost envelop hers so that he could comfortably have his hand over hers on the neck. He moved her fingers into the correct pattern to create the chord. It wasn’t all that complicated in truth, but something new was always daunting simply because it was previously unknown.

She glanced at his face for confirmation that she had gotten it correct after experimentally strumming the chord. His hand still encassed hers as he smiled back at her. He had taken a breath through his nose and she remembered it hitting her cheek, warming her further. The strands of his hair had been falling in front of his face, almost tickling her as well. He had been so warm and soft against her before returning to his more respectfully distanced seat a few inches away.

He murmured a few more repeat chords and she followed his guidance before he made her start over. As she strummed more assuredly, Jake began to sing softly and the song became clear to her. A grin spread across her lips as she looked over at her friend singing one of his favorite songs as she strummed it, only fumbling a few of the chords. She laughed when it happened, no longer taking the playing too seriously. Jake giggled along with her while singing the words, causing them to grin at one another.

“I should’ve known it was Jumper,” She said after they finished. “You’re such a Third Eye Blind junkie, so predictable, Jacob.”

Jake shook his head in slight embarrassment, “What can I say? They just speak to my emo soul.”

Now she was alone on the futon, working through the chords. Smiling down at the frets, she sang the words softly, wishing it was Jake’s pretty voice instead of hers.

A lot of the days she lounged in Jake’s bed, luxuriating in the fluffy expensive comforter Jake had bought to cover his bed. He had an uncharacteristic amount of pillows. Six for one man, she thought it was absurd until she slept there for two weeks and found it unbelievably comfortable. He was a genius, she thought and let him know over text with a picture of the two cats curled against her neck and her stomach while she laid in his bed.

Jake responded almost immediately with a request to facetime. I miss my boys, he texted. Need some boy time. She giggled to herself, looking down unattractively at her screen, before pressing the facetime call, adjusting the camera angle and immediately fussing with her hair a little bit in the camera.

It connects and before she knows it, Jake’s face is appearing on her screen. He looks to be seated on a couch with a window behind him, the scenes moving quickly behind him. He was on the tour bus, hair messily braided and eyes looking tired but delighted at his own screen. His face looked tanner than the last time she’d seen him in person, a mustache and a little goatee trying to take residence on his face. The little hoops Jake had gotten when she had gone to the piercing and tattoo parlor with him a few days before he left were on display and made her smile at the memory.

“Hey rockstar, your boys miss you,” She pans the camera to show Cheese who was still against her sternum. The blonde cat nuzzled his head at her attention and writhed onto his back, somehow knowing to make a show of it for Jake.

Jake laughs happily and greets Cheese before Y/N brings it back to her face, making sure to keep Hot Dog in frame. She brings the camera closer to the black cat who was sleepily cuddled against her shoulder. He chirps at Jake in the screen, causing Jake to coo childishly. His best friend laughs and shakes her head at him, returning once more to the original framing of the video.

“There’s your boys, your children,” She smiles. “How are the other boys, your brothers?”

Jake flicks a falling strand of hair out of his face and looks to his right, before looking back at the screen. “You know, never a dull moment on the road.” He rolls his eyes and she gives him a knowing look. Two weeks and already they were getting on each other’s nerves. It wasn’t unusual, but she always felt bad when Jake seemed clearly agitated. She made a note to send extra videos and pictures for the rest of the week and check in a little more often.

She smiles back sympathetically and scratches at Hot Dog’s ears for Jake.

“I see you made yourself comfortable, shrimp” He notes, changing the subject.

“You said I could sleep in your bed,” She shrugs with her free shoulder, “And if I remember correctly, you actually insisted that I do.”

Jake smirks before arching an eyebrow at her. “I was talking about my shirt that seems to have found its way onto your body.”

She flushes and readjusts to a more seated position, changing the angle of the phone, attempting to distract Jake from her embarrassment. “Oh,” She laughed. “I ran out of sleep shirts and I’ve been too lazy to drive across town or do my own laundry. I didn’t think you’d mind…I’ll make sure to wash everything and put it back before you get home.”

Jake laughs good-naturedly, biting his lip and pausing in thought for a moment. “Don’t worry about it. Looks better on you anyway,” He winks.

“Save it for the paying customers, Jacob.” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at his charms.

He laughs it off and she lets him talk to his cats a little more before he mentions that he has to go.

Later that day, as she’s making her lunch, she finds herself messing with the shirt. It was grey and a little distressed from constant wear. The neck was a little loose from Jake’s constant pulling and her fingers furthered it. She found herself holding it up to her nose for a moment as she stared into his quickly emptying fridge. Jake had also told her she could eat or drink anything he wanted and she was slowly but surely going through his stash.

As she contemplated what to drink, she realized how weird it was that she was indulging in trying to smell Jake even when he was hundreds of miles away. She dropped the shirt quickly, as if anyone other than the two cats might see her, and grabbed a spindrift from the shelf.

She poked around different crevices of Jake’s home that she normally didn’t get the chance to explore as she made herself more comfortable. One day while she’s waiting for Cheese to get his fill of faucet water, she’s mindlessly scavenging through the different toiletry shelves Jake had things bestowed upon. In his shower, there was a hanging plant, along with large bottles of shampoo, conditioner and a few various body soaps and scrubs. Jake was almost cat-like in how he groomed himself so intensely yet remained looking untouched.

The shower curtain was childish with cartoon sharks and other fish in pirate outfits pictured beside ships and treasure chests, all deep blues and gold accents. She had giggled which turned into hysterical laughter the first time Jake had her over and she’d gone to use the restroom. Now she found it endearing and sweet that he hadn’t changed it for the past three years. A bathroom should be fun, he stated when she questioned his choice.

On a wooden tower beside the shower lived more toiletries. Her hands drifted over them tactilely as she inspected each of them, having grown bored of the television show she had been binging on Jake’s huge tv. It wasn’t like she’d never seen It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia before either, it was just a good comfort show that she could half watch with the cats.

Nothing caught her eye until an amber liquid filled glass bottle came into view on the bottom shelf. It was full and its delicate bottle had a vine etched on its front. She uncapped it and sniffed the bottle that was nondescript until the scent hit her nose. It was Jake’s everyday cologne. She was familiar with it and as it filled her senses, she realized it must be his extra. His other undoubtedly on the tour bus with him right now.

She sniffed it again, eyes slipping shut as she pictured Jake applying the cologne in this very bathroom. Uncapping the bottle before spritzing it once against his extended neck, the sensitive skin that stretched over his adam’s apple, his head tilted back as he stared at himself in the mirror, and then once to his left wrist, placing the bottle down to rub it against his right.

She remembered when she had walked in on him once when they were getting ready to go to a pregame of some party the band was invited to. His hair was already perfectly disheveled. She knew that secretly Jake spent almost as much time on his hair as his twin in hopes that it looked like he’d never touched it at all and it just fell the way he wanted it to.

When she walked into the bathroom with her mascara wand already out and needing the better lighting in this mirror, she half expected Jake to be messing with his hair. She had been wrong. He was in the middle of spritzing himself and the room smelled overwhelmingly of Jake, warm amber, woodsy tobacco and smoked whiskey. Usually there was some eucalyptus mixed in from his shampoo or body wash, she wasn’t sure, but the fresh cologne overpowered it and she was taken aback. The smell and the sight of his tilted head, almost like how he held it in posed pictures, but a little further.

Jake’s eyes flitted from their intent place on his reflection to his best friend in the doorway, her eyes traveling from his neck down his chest where stray droplets fell and disappeared into his golden soft skin.

“Yes?” He questioned with a raise of his eyebrow, finishing spritzing his left wrist and rubbing them together casually .

Her lips pursed as she met his eye before holding up the mascara, “I need better working conditions, Jacob. How am I supposed to be the dutiful side piece if I look like shit?”

“You could never look like shit,” He side stepped to allow her some room in front of the mirror while recapping the cologne and placing it in its spot on the shelf. It was all very calm and natural, like they shared the space often. In reality, this had been one of her first times back at his place since he had gotten the cats. The first time it seemed okay to go out. “Plus, everyone is always looking at me, anyways,” He smirked.

She laughed and swatted his covered bicep. “Then why do you drag me along?” She asked, looking in the mirror at her eyes, attempting to apply the lash slick mascara evenly. She even ignored the swish of a tail around her legs, despite the pull to pet whichever cat had just said hello to her.

“Because you love it, free booze and food…Plus even the eye candy needs someone to look at.” He straightened his collar in the mirror before messing with it so that it wasn’t straight.

“And you’re the eye candy?”

He chuckled and tilted his head down, causing some of his hair to fall in front of his face as he looked at her. “Duh.”

She cackled, pulling out her dark lipstick now, still glancing at Jake through the mirror every other moment as she started to apply it. “It’s good you’re so confident.”

Jake tilted his head to the side, a half smile threatening on his lips, “What does that mean?”

She finished applying the lipstick and retreated out of the bathroom. Jake repeated himself, “What does that mean?”

The memory fades as she almost fumbles the cologne bottle after deciding it would be weird to even consider wearing Jake’s signature cologne. She puts on her big girl pants that day and does all of the laundry she had been putting off and runs out to the grocery store to restock the cupboards and fridge.

She makes some trips home, hanging out in her own apartment every so often to keep it relatively maintained or stopping by to grab different clothes. It wasn’t that important, though, since she lived with a roommate. Other days she wanders around Jake’s neighborhood of Nashville. It had a few coffee shops, a record store, a music store, some artisan and boutique style shops and an amazing taco place they always went to together.

The first time she and Jake went together was the day after his birthday. Hangover tacos were his last birthday wish and what kind of best friend would deny a battered, freshly turned 23 year old from greasy amazing tacos and the best horchata in all of Nashville. He’d ordered six tacos and managed to scarf down half of them before starting to not feel well again. She had brushed the hair out of his face and swept it into a low ponytail and pressed her horchata cup against his forehead.

“You’re a real trooper, Jake. You’re the only person I’ve ever seen even attempt to get out of the house after how much you drank last night.” She rubbed soothing circles across his shoulders and then down his back before returning to the top and starting again.

He looked a little sickly, but his eyes hadn’t lost their beautiful sparkle even after all the tiring festivities of the day before. “You’re my best friend,” He said her name, looking at her seriously. It was the first time he had called her his best friend.

“And you’re mine, dude.” She smiled and gave him a side hug, his right arm had limply wrapped around her front as he leaned his head into her neck. That night they returned to Jake’s place, where he showered and then climbed into his bed beside his best friend, the pair curled up and exhausted before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

While kicking it alone in Jake’s apartment, she feels close to him through not only the myriad of his possessions but also his responses to the videos and pictures she sends of the cats. Hot Dog had a cardboard scratching box setup that Jake had deemed his car because Hot Dog liked to ‘drive’ it. In reality, the black cat just sat in it and scratched but Jake found it hilarious. She sent him many videos and pictures of Hot Dog either hard at work in the car or simply asleep at the wheel. She woke up one day to it broken and Hot Dog laying in it, still looking pleased. The picture she sends Jake is accompanied with the text: “Like father like son. Hot Dog totaled the car.” Jake sent multiple texts of laughter and his memoji, with his big black hat included, crying.

Hot Dog also strangely plays fetch so she sent a few videos of that phenomenon every so often. Jake hearts every single message. Cheese kept more to himself, but she would take pictures of him staring out the windows that held images of green leafed trees, creating a beautiful backdrop for the majestic golden mancoon. Those often had jokes including “When will my father return from war?” or “Why does father leave us to be with other pussies?”

Jake laughed at each joke but shook his head at his best friend. “Why are my boys asking about other pussies? How do they even know about that, they’re much too young for all that?”

She shrugs while trying to contain her own amusement, scratching between Hot Dog’s ears as they spoke over facetime. “I don’t know. Ask your sons. Honestly though, I get a bit of a gay vibe from Hot Dog. Or ace. I don’t think he’s interested in other pussies.” She tries to sound serious but Jake is grinning at the camera and so is she, until another voice chimes in.

“What’s this about pussy?”

She groans at the sound of the other Kiszka twin. She loved Josh, but he liked to comandeer any conversation he was privy to.

“Go away, Josh,” Jake says. “I’m having my court mandated alone time with my boys.”

“Oh, is Y/N on the line? Hey mama! Finally telling the Cat Daddy about how your kitty–” An ‘oof’ is heard as the phone clatters to face the ceiling and then a squeak of a distant ‘sorry!’

The camera moves again and then Jake’s face is back in frame, staring at the screen intently, a light pink staining his cheeks now – out of exertion from kicking Josh’s ass or his own mild embarrassment, she didn’t know. “Sorry about Josh being Josh. As always.” His voice is lower now, speaking softer, making it more gravelly.

She smiles sympathetically. “Don’t worry about it. I’m the one who brought up pussy, I should’ve known Josh is like a bloodhound with that kind of stuff.”

Jake laughs genuinely at that and they stare at their screens for a little while longer, shooting the shit, making plans for when Jake gets back to Nashville.

On the Saturday before Jake is set to come home, she gets tacos from their taco place and digs around Jake’s record collection before deciding on a classic that both of them loved. Deja vu by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. She curls up on the couch with one cat, Hot Dog, laid out on her right and Cheese beneath it. It was his favorite spot besides sitting in the window.

“Your dad’s comin’ home tomorrow, my dudes,” She talks to the cats as she eats. “Isn’t that great? I’m not gonna lie though, I kind of wish I could stay. I love you guys and this apartment, it’s bigger than mine. Plus way better roommates.”

She rambles the night away. When she wakes, she tidies each of the rooms, putting away dishes she had left out, refolding the blanket on the back of the couch, remaking the bed. She showers, puts on real clothes today, rather than the usual sweats, and spends a little extra time to look presentable. Her reasoning is that she’s seeing a human she knows rather than just two cats. It has nothing to do with it specifically being Jake.

He gets in in the late afternoon. She hears the key in the lock and her heart starts to beat a little faster. The cats can tell something is up when they notice her fidgeting, more on edge than any of the previous days spent by her side. She didn’t quite understand why she was so anxious to see Jake after two and a half months. Seeing each other over facetime wasn’t the same even if she told herself it was enough.

She tries to play off the nerves by talking to the cats again, “Look who it is, Hot Dog, Cheese. Your long lost father!”

The cats are elated when Jake gets through the door, weaving through their legs as she tries to be cool and just say a normal hello to him. The grin on Jake's face stops her in her tracks as he moves quickly down the hall after dropping his leather duffel by the door. His hat almost falls off his head as he wraps his arms around her in an intense hug.

“Missed you guys so much,” He murmurs into the skin of her neck. “Missed you so much, shrimp.”

She laughs, breathless and unable to form any coherent thought with Jake surrounding her, invading her senses. Any thought beside how wrong she had been. Jake’s cologne didn’t smell like Jake. Neither did his soaps and shampoos. Something was so uniquely Jake that changed his cologne when it was on him, same for the other products. He embodied them, making them more than they were, making them his. Kind of how he was making her his as he held her, changing her entire being with his presence.

That was too much to say to a best friend she had just cat sat for. “How was it?” Would suffice.

Jake holds on for a little longer, her arms having taken up residence around his shoulders and neck with his around her waist but clutched at the tops of her own shoulders. He takes a deep breath before pulling back. While looking down at her, he removed his hat and threw it through the doorway of his bedroom, landing it on his bed smoothly.

She was silently impressed, but Jake’s smirk let her know he could see through her facade. She rolled her eyes at him and pushed away from his chest making him smile more sweetly.

“Incredible as always,” He follows her into his living room to sit on the couch while they catch up, his tone giddy. The cats followed. “We even finished a bit of new music. But like always, I’m happy to have a break from it all. Ready to just soak in this life for a good while.”

“Ready to be Jake Kiszka, cat dad, Criminal Minds aficionado and shrimp’s best friend, not Jake Kiszka, guitarist of Greta Van Fleet, rock god and panty dropper.”

“Exactly,” Jake giggles, pulling at the hairtie keeping his hair pulled back, letting the brown locks loose. “Still panty dropper, though. I can’t just turn that off.”

She nudges one of her feet that is on the couch against Jake’s thigh in chastisement. He moves his leg to press back at her and they stay connected as they regard each other. Hot Dog had followed them and was jumping up into Jake’s lap while Cheese was sauntering across the back of the couch, inspecting his freed hair.

Jake feels his blonde cat’s presence and tilts his head back, allowing the large cat to sniff the top of his human’s scalp. Jake’s eyes slip shut at the sensation, the side of his lip quirking up. Hot Dog chirps while he pets him absently but carefully, between his ears, just like he liked it. She admires her friend basking in his pets’ love and attention. The reunion was quite cute and she wished it could be like this all the time. The four of them, happy and content.

“Speaking of Criminal Minds,” Jake raises his head back up after a reasonable amount of comfortable silence, besides the black cat’s purring. “All I’m in the mood for is vegging out on this couch. Will you stay? We can order Thai?”

“Eh, I’ve kind of had my fill of cats,” She says and watches as Jake’s eyes widen momentarily before he neutralizes his features and smiles, albeit a little sadly. She doesn’t even let him get a word in, placing a hand on his shoulder after brushing back a piece of his hair. “Kidding. Consider it your payment for the cat/plant/apartment-sitting.”

Jake laughs, relieved before furrowing his brow and saying her name seriously. He rarely did that, over the last year she hadn’t heard him say it more than a handful of times. “I’m gonna pay you for the cat sitting.”

She laughs awkwardly and removes her hand from him. “That’s not necessary.”

“You stayed for two and a half months, caring for them every single day. Plus you did my laundry, watered the plants and who knows what else.” He pauses to glance around the room, waving his hand to the corner. “Reorganized my records and bookshelves since I’m lazy and don’t always put them back in alphabetical order.”

“I lived in a nice apartment for two and a half months, ate the food there, enjoyed all the amenities and got to hang out with two cute furry friends whenever they wanted. The food and your company is payment enough.” She hated when Jake offered her money, even in this case where he really was paying her for a service. It still felt weird to take money from her best friend like this.

“I insist,” He pushes. “You deserve it.”

“Jake, seriously,” She huffs, standing to walk away from the couch. He follows quickly behind, the pair of them making their way into the kitchen. “I don’t want your money. It’s weird, this was just a favor for my best friend.”

Her real life job was something that she didn’t feel particularly strong about anymore and since Covid she’d been able to do all her work remotely. All communication was online and she never had to go into an office again if she didn’t want to, so she’d been making her own money while at Jake’s place without him giving her his.

He puts his hands to his hips as he watches her open his fridge and ignore him staring at her. He rolls his eyes when she still won’t look at him and instead pulls out a kombucha she had bought a few days ago and takes a long sip. Finally she meets his eyes after shutting the fridge and leans against the counter beside it, placing them on opposite corners of the room.

“Fine, I won’t pay you for your service. I will simply pay you in Thai food and other take out until I deem fit. How’s that sound?”

She smiles at his persistence. “And drinks for life,” She speaks over the lid of her drink, eyelashes fluttering as she looks up at him from her reclined position.

Jake chuckles, elation spreading across his face, his tired eyes still bright despite everything. “That’s why you denied physical money. You’re an incredible con artist, shrimp. Guaranteeing libations for life. I respect it.”

She laughs and walks out of the kitchen, Jake following behind like one of his cats following himself. “I imagine I’ll take care of your cats again in the near future and then you’ll try to pay me again. I’m trying to mitigate having this conversation over and over.”

Jake ahh’s in understanding as the pair take their spots on the couch once more. She grabs the blanket while Jake grabs the remote, easily falling into routine.

“There’s intricate levels to it all.” She muses, laying it flat against their bodies. Jake scoots closer so that the blanket can cover more of both of their pairs of legs.

“You’re much smarter than me.”

“Now that’s a compliment from sir Jacob Thomas Kiszka.”

She leans into his side as he moves his arm out of the way and onto the back of the couch, allowing her to further lean against his warm chest. He chuckles offhandedly at the name she had used.

“Call for Thai after the opening credis, yeah?” Jake asks as he mindlessly flicks through the streaming service to their favorite shared show.

She nods against him, tickling him slightly, and hums her assent to his question.

Jake calls for the takeout and she takes the time to change into sweats. In Jake’s room, the room that had been hers for a few months, but now was refilled with his presence, she looked at the hat on the bed. She left the door cracked, not on purpose but she also didn’t mind as she pulled the crop top from her body. She looked at her bag that was already zipped up, remembering she had neatly put everything away in preparation of leaving after Jake returned home. Her eyes cast around the room and landed on the pile of neatly folded shirts and sweatshirts of Jake’s she had worn during her stay and subsequently washed. Her hands plucked the grey shirt off of the top of the pile without thinking too hard about it as she slipped it over her head before realizing she also wanted to change her pants. Jake didn’t leave any sweatpants behind for her to mooch from, so unzipping her bag became necessary. She felt a little silly wearing Jake’s shirt now, but it wasn’t that weird so it was only a passing thought.

For a brief moment, she is just in her red cotton panties and Jake’s stretched out t-shirt standing in Jake’s bedroom. The shirt was slightly cropped due to her breasts, leaving the lower part of her stomach, just below her belly button exposed. The hem in the back brushed at the red lace that ran around the band of the panties. The fabric of the sweatpants slipped up her legs just as Jake was walking up to the door to inform her of when the food would arrive. His eyes caught the flash of red lace disappearing beneath the brown cotton and it stopped him in his tracks.

An audible gasp must be heard because she’s turned her head over her shoulder to look at him through the crack in the door as her hands are busy tying the tie on her sweatpants, cinching them to her waist.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a girl’s panties before, Jacob.” She pushes the door open further and tilts her head to look up at him quizzically.

His pinkened cheeks are delightfully youthful on his mature face, the mustache he’d been trying to grow a bit of a shadow on his face now. She smiles, pitying her best friend’s boyish response.

“I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t,” He tries to laugh it off, looking down at the floor for a moment, unsure why he felt so bashful about seeing her dressing. It wasn’t even like he’d seen her ass, just the top band of the panties as they were covered. “Just the red…didn’t know you wore red lace –” He cuts himself off, rubbing the back of his neck for a quick moment as she laughs at him.

“God, you’re such a tween boy sometimes,” She pushes at his shoulder when she passes by him, leaving him leaning against his doorway, the information about the food forgotten on his lips momentarily.

Jake gets the door when it rings with their food a reasonable 20 minutes later. He resumes his seat beside his best friend as she throws the blanket off of her, sitting up to look at the array of food Jake was setting out from the brown paper bag. The night is filled with laughter, tasty food and murder mysteries the pair could likely quote at this point, they’d seen all the episodes so many times together.

“His favorite album is the White Album! That’s insane, I forgot. Jake, Hotch and I are literally soulmates.” She muses, staring at the screen with wide eyes and then looking at Jake.

He laughs as a noodle falls from his chopstick just as it was about to enter his mouth and she grimaces at how adorably messy of an eater he was. There was a smudge of Pad Thai sauce on the corner of his lip and she didn’t have the heart to tell him, especially considering that it would reappear in the next five minutes. She just had to wait until they finished eating to assess the damage.

“That’s why the fictional FBI man is your soulmate?” His tone was incredulous and amused.

“Mhmm,” She nods in confirmation, taking a bite of her fresh roll and then humming in satisfaction at the taste. “Fuck that’s good.”

Jake raises his left brow at her and watches her for a moment longer, in her own little world as she continues to chew on the roll of vegetables. Even eating in his frumpy tattered shirt and her sweatpants, with her feet tucked beneath her on the couch, he was unable to not be taken with her beauty. He was struck silent even more as he marveled at her like this than at the glance of her underwear.

He knew his friend was beautiful, he’d seen people come and go in her life, attempting to hold her attention long enough to call it a relationship but they never lasted. He was pretty sure he knew why they didn’t last, they didn’t understand that while she was beautiful to look at, there was so much more beauty hidden inside of her head, inside of her heart. She was kind when she wanted to be, hilarious without even trying and wiser beyond her years.

So it didn’t matter if she was stretching her arms above her head in a lacy panty and bra set or hunched over herself in old sweats, he found her transcendently breathtaking. As a friend. Friends knew each other’s worth, noticed the beauty in them, enjoyed their company.

They binge-watched television until the cats began to chirp at Jake, imploring him to settle into bed so that they could then take up residence around him.

“Got one last night in you?” Jake questions as they clean up the food and turn off the television.

“Don’t you want your bed to yourself and the boys?”

“Nah,” Jake shakes his head emphatically. “I’m tired of sleeping alone. Sleep better next to someone, I think. Stupid twin thing.”

She cackles at his words, already beginning to prepare to sleep over. “You think your sleeping companions are a stand in for your insane identical twin brother? That is so freaky.”

She hears Jake’s laughter from a room away, loud and clear. The joy is evident in the volume and she imagines his grin is taking up his entire face. She wished she could see it, even with her it was rare.

She slips her bra from beneath Jake’s shirt and debates switching to her sleep shorts she thankfully had brought for lounging or sleeping in the sweats. Thinking about the space heater of a human that was going to be beside her, plus his two mini heaters of fur, she went to her zipped bag once more. Her hands rooted around the insides contents, cursing herself silently for not realizing she’d be staying over as she fucked up her nicely packed belongings.

As if on cue, Jake finishes putting away the leftovers, dealing with utensils and shutting up his apartment just as she’s taking down her sweatpants. She takes them and throws them over her bag, before picking up her sleep shorts to do a quick change between her cheeky panties and the navy blue shorts with little bees on them.

Jake’s already walking through the door not realizing her state of undress. She holds the shorts in front of herself slightly awkwardly and he stops when he realizes her legs are bare.

“Sorry,” He says, a chuckle under his breath as he ducks his head and turns around.

She rolls her eyes to herself and finishes changing. “I’m beginning to think you want to see me in my underwear with your timing.”

Jake knows she’s done when she taps his shoulder. He turns and finds her seated at the edge of his bed, still in his shirt and the tiny blue shorts she had been holding to cover the lace red panties that Jake wasn’t mad about seeing again.

She noticed the way his adam’s apple bobbed for a second as he swallowed and she tilted her head up at him in confusion.

“You’d know if I wanted to see you in your underwear, shrimp.” His voice is almost hoarse as he speaks, lowering it to keep the rasp at bay. It sounds melancholy and she thinks it’s just because he’s tired and sad his touring is over but he’s also happy to be home. She thinks because of that she should probably ignore it and try to lighten the mood, keep the bit going.

She blinks up at him, voice a touch dreamy. “Would I?”

Jake’s lips curl up in silent response and then he unbuttons the last two buttons on his shirt and pulls it casually from his body, all while staying in front of her. Then his hands go up to his hair, retying it into a messy ponytail. She frowns at how he had done it and sighs, laying on her back as he removes his pants, leaving him in his boxers, light blue and surprisingly crisp looking.

“C’mon shrimp, brush your teeth or you’ll hate yourself in the morning.”

She groans in response and sticks her right hand into the air, silently requesting for Jake to pull her up. He obliges quickly and carefully, pulling her to a complete stand directly in front of him. His strength was surprising and she steadied herself with her free hand against the lightly tanned skin of his chest.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” He raises his eyebrows at her. Her eyes are wide as she regards his face right in front of hers.

Jake feels her fingertips against his chest and the warmth is so welcome he doesn’t let go over her hand that he’s holding. They’re just stuck staring at each other, one step apart from being chest to chest. Her fingers flex into his skin, curling over his collarbone.

A swish of a soft tail weaving between their legs sends them apart and allows for laughter to fill the room. She walks out of the room first and Jake mutters a quick ‘thanks Hot Dog’ at the cat who was hopping onto the bed and curling up at the foot of it.

Jake finds his best friend sitting on the closed toilet seat, toothbrush between her teeth and his toothpaste left open on the sink. They brush their teeth in silence and he lets her wash her face before him, their nighttime routines coexisting in a perfect dance.

Before she leaves the bathroom, she rests her head against his back for a moment, her temple against his spine. He pauses, his hands hovering in front of his face with suddsy water.

“I’m happy you’re home. This place is meant to have you in it.”

He tilts his head back, placing it atop hers in recognition of what she’s said. This was home. Not the apartment, persay, but with her by his side.

She walks back to the bedroom because she knows that Jake’s nonverbal responses were sometimes the only response he gave. The cats were both thankfully at the foot of the bed so that she and Jake wouldn’t have to fight for space to sleep. She gets in on the left, where she had slept for the past two and a half months, knowing Jake preferred the right.

Her knees are tucked up to her chest as she sits against the headboard when Jake walks into the room, flicking the main light off. It leaves them in complete darkness for a moment while Jake crosses to his nightstand and turns on the lamp. This causes him to disappear and then reappear right beside her which she finds only mildly disturbing, residual Criminal Minds thoughts swimming around her brain.

Jake sits beside her, making no move to go to sleep. The room is quiet besides the occasional cat purring and it brings a contented smile to Jake’s face.

“Shrimp,” he speaks up, turning his neck to look at her before sighing and saying her real name. “I don’t know if this is too much, but we’ve known each other for so long, I feel really awkward bringing it up.”

“You can tell me anything, Jake. You’re my best friend,” She chuckles when she thinks something. “You know I’d help you bury a body wherever. No questions asked.”

Jake mirrors her laughter, albeit a little more stilted. His hair is loose again and he runs a hand through it. He could never make up his mind about it. But he knew what he had decided about this.

“It’s not a dead body…yet.” He takes a deep breath and takes her hand closest to him. Her breath catches at the move, so familiar yet different, the calluses of his fingers simultaneously smooth and rough. “I just thought a lot about it while I was on tour. You’re my best friend, too, if that wasn’t clear.”

“You’re rambling, Jake.” She informs him gently, rubbing her fingers over the back of his hand that remained inhers.

He flushes and she notices it on his chest before returning her gaze to his face.

“Sorry,” He replies but she smiles at him, communicating that it wasn’t something to be sorry for. “I’m just nervous. I really want to kiss you right now.”

Her eyebrows raise in surprise but the expression is immediately replaced with joy. “Then kiss me.”

“Really?” Jake’s eyebrows mirror hers from seconds before. She nods and then they’re meeting in the middle.

Their intertwined hands don’t drop one another as they press against each other’s lips in a much overdue embrace. It’s soft and sweet, loving. Jake is tender and insistent upon her lips, nothing like she had ever imagined he would be with other partners. But this was Jake with her, his best friend. He was determined to take his time loving her. With every kiss, he was going to show her how beautiful he thought she was. He wanted to show her the beauty he saw in her.

She sighs against his mouth after a few minutes of the sweet yet passionate kisses. “Is this why you insisted I brush my teeth?”

He giggles, uncharacteristically sweet, against her lips and presses another kiss in response. “Maybe.”

#jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka x y/n #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka one shot #jake kiszka x you #jake kiszka fan fiction #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fic #greta van fluff #greta van fleet fan fiction #jake kiszka gvf #Jake kiszka friends to lovers #Jake kiszka slow burn

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onedayimgonnasnap · 1 year

Note

How about dating hcs for Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, and Beezelbub?

Obey Me X Reader Dating HCS

Tw: Leviathan JK

~Mammon~

Ok so start off when dating this man be expected to get introuble with a bunch of fucking witches who Mammon owes money to.

You end up getting kidnapped often but nothing too serious since the kidnappers don’t have anything against you. Just Mammon,

so during the whole experience you get to eat chocolate chip cookies and apple juice watching curious George. They don’t actually know a whole lot about humans- they just know Curious George is a popular TV show.

Also man likes to spoil you like crazy and you both often go on dates. Before the mafia shows up and demands money-

He also likes to have you with him watching his modeling. (Bitch wants you to drool over him)

He also likes to hold your hand, he never lets it go so you might as well sew your hand together.

He also sneaks into your bed at night after telling you he’s not clingy. He wakes you up like “MC 🥺 I frew up-“

Also has a weird obsession with uno-

The whole dating Mammon experience is really wild- He means well though he’s just mischievous.

~Leviathan~

Ok so bro has an anime for every single fucking situation. At this point you’re pretty sure he pulls it out of his ass.

Bro has also asked you; “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Bro cried when you said; “No lol”

Bro gets jealous easily when he’s alone and he sees other couples. You have to deal with it pretty every fucking time.

He saw a trend on the internet where a couple bought two beta fishes and he went to go find you.

He doesn’t ask for affection but he does thing where it’s like; “Man I would really love to hold someone’s hand- to bad no one will ever wanna hold a stupid otaku like me’s hand. :((“ And he does it while staring at you.

Also his body type changes (not in a fat shaming way) but he changes from fit to dad bod pretty often. It’s the happy weight you get from being in a relationship.”

You also have to make sure he drinks water often. Like chug it down his mf throat.

You guys also often make OCs together for different anime’s.

~Satan~

Bro sends you cat memes, cat pictures, professional cat photography and cat drawings.

Also he keeps hiding a bunch of cats in your room.

Lucifer like a proud dad tells you embarrassing stories that Satan has done when he was younger (including he was a furry. Satan has a fursona and Levi is making bank)

He also randomly pretends to be Sherlock homes it’s really cute when it’s not every-time you lost your phone charger.”

Bro also throws tantrums like one time you heard his voice squeak like he was still going through puberty.

Satan once murdered someone after they recommended him the book Twilight.

He also has different phases based on what book he’s reading. He’s also wrote fanfiction AU’s of you and him

He also has cat hair all over his clothes half of the time and he likes his reading cuddle times so good luck with that.

Bro also calls you at 3:00 AM to ask you the most random crack questions.

~Asmodeus~

You’re never allowed to neglect yourself in any way ever again.

He will smack you if you talk down about yourself in any way whatsoever.

You both have a self care session every other day, you both gossip it’s really fun.

Bro is down bad for you- Bro went from ‘for the streets’ to “I only want you in the sheets-“

He also wants to Princess carried by you no matter how tall you are.

Bro also likes to bite you and smother you with kisses.

You have both lipstick marks and a bunch of hickeys that’s to him.

He also will never let you sleep alone ever again.

Everytime you both are going out he grabs your arm.

~Beelzebub~

Bro is extremely blunt and does not like to sugar coat things.

He might seem harsh but with a little more context he just cares.

You’re also never allowed to skip meals ever again.

If you do after he’s done eating he likes to give you food.

He also likes forehead kisses and headpats, he starts blushing so much when you do it.

When he sees you’re uncomfortable or scared he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder leaving.

He also likes when you scratch his back or head to him if feels like Heaven.

One of the problems I can think of is that you have to keep a safe for snacks for yourself so the big bitch like a grizzly bear doesn’t break in.

Also has bit you a bunch of times not like those hickey bites. The ones that look like you were almost eaten.

He’s also given you scary dog privileges.

Your bed now has ants because of all the crumbs in bed he leaves- he also has once eaten one of your blankets and clothes.

#obey me #obey me x reader #request #om! beelzebub #beelzebub x mc #beelzebub x reader #mammonobeyme #mammon x y/n #om! mammon #mammon x reader #shall we date leviathan #leviathan x reader #om! satan #satan x y/n #satan x reader #asmo obey me #om! asmodeus #asmodeus x reader

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shannara810 · 2 months

Text

Percy: "So..."

Luke: "So?"

Percy: "The parents are meeting each other."

Luke: "Yes? That's the plan".

The blonde was checking his reflection in the mirror on the wardrobe door, trying to fix the collar of his black shirt. The look it sent back was flawless: tight jeans, ironed shirt, perfectly tousled hair. "If you want to make a good first impression, start from the way you dress", Dad always said.

"And we are ready for them to meet each other". It was almost like the other boy was trying to reassure himself.

In that moment nothing about Percy Jackson - Saviour of Olympus, Poseidon's only half-blood son and Mr. Rule Flouter all around - gave away the vibes of a ruthless war machine; rather, the pink flannel robe and the furry slippers made him look way too younger than his nineteen years.

Funny thing he was the same age as Luke when they first met each other. And yet people kept mistaking him for a teen, while the blonde boy already looked like a male model. It wasn't fair!

Luke: "I think so. Shouldn’t we be?"

Percy: "Right." *pause* "Say Luke... why can't we run away to Alaska? It's chilly there and quiet and we could learn to fish!"

Luke: "You're the son of a Sea God. If you couldn’t fish, I might worry." The younger nephilim gave him the stink eye. He still couldn't figure out why Percy was so scared of letting their families meet. It wasn't like their relationship was a secret: his parents knew, Percy's too, the same could be said for their friends. So what was wrong with his boyfriend’s mother's desire to meet his dads?

Percy: "Ah ah ah, you're not funny! 😑"

Luke: "Actually I'm hilarious 😏. But what's got you all riled up? There will be only your parents and mine at dinner tonight. Easy peasy."

Percy sat on the bed. His body was shaking a little and everything inside him was screaming to run, run away as far as he could. He swiped a hand over his face and closed his eyes, mentally counting to five before he opened them again. "Don't, okay? You’re not the one with a father-in-law who hates him!"

Luke raised an eyebrow, his lips curving in a crooked smile. "You called Father your in-law! Dad will be so happy 😁!"

Percy: "Lukeeeeee, be serious!!! Your father wants to kill me!"

Luke sat next to the other demigod. He looked at his boy from head to toe, a bit worried.

Anxiety was a bitch for Percy and the nephilim didn't know what to do to help him. How could he make it better when he still didn't understand what was all this fuss about. The dinner? The dinner was making Percy feel so bad? "What's new? It's not the first time a supernatural being wants to murder you".

Percy: "You're not helping!"

Luke: "Would you rather I lied?"

Percy: "NO!"

Luke: "Then help me understand you, Jackson. What's the problem? Why are you so scared of this dinner?"

Percy: "Because..."

Luke: "Perce, Father is all bark and no bite. Really. You have nothing to be worried of."

Percy: "Now I know you're lying! Last time we met, your father swore he’d kill me if I defiled you! And he'll know! He'll know we had sex as soon as he sees us!" Sea-green eyes became so big, they almost appeared ready to leap out. The sound of his labored breath filled the room.

Luke: "Actually I think he already knows. Dad must have told him."

Percy: "WHAT?! You... you... you..."

Luke: "Had a chat with Dad? Of course! You never ask your mother for advice?"

Percy: "NOT ABOUT MY SEX LIFE!!!"

Luke: "Why?"

Percy: "Because you just don't! I don't want to know about my mom's sex life and she doesn't want to know about mine! People don't ask their parents about sex! It's not normal!!!" The demigod was screaming and he knew it. How could Luke not...

There it was. That look again. That look so open and trusting and blameless like the one of a child. Percy often forgot how young this Luke really was.

Because Luke Milligan and Luke Castellan were not the same. They had the same blond hair, ice blue eyes true, even the same lopside smile. The two Luke shared a lot in their looks.

However the same could not be said for their temper: they were like night and no, not day. They were like night and dusk. This new Luke lacked the anger and the desire for vengeance the old one had. He lacked that inner darkness which had feasted on Luke Castellan's soul till his last day on Earth and being Luke Milligan what he truly was, this really felt like a giant joke.

Once again Percy found himself wondering what could have happened if the old Luke had had a family like the one he had now during his past life. Because in the end it all came down to his family.

Adam&Michael were Luke's rock, his safe haven. The couple had proven time and time again they didn’t care about Fate when it came to their son and Percy had to admit he felt a little jealous of their steadfast love. Sally Jackson loved her son with all her heart, but she wasn't always there for him while he was growing up.

However what scared Percy the most was not knowing what could have happened to him had Luke Castellan not taken on his shoulders the weight of the first Great Prophecy. Because hero or not, good or not, Luke and him were not so different in their rages.

Luke: "Again, why? Need to remind you it was my first time? I may remember a few things about my past life, but sex is not one of them. Who was I supposed to talk to? Uncle Gabe?"

Percy: "Nope, nien, no! Lalalalalala, I'm not listening!" The demigod covered his ears in his attempt to block everything out, but without much success. "No more sex advices from our parents, okay? We learn together, Luke."

The blonde grabbed Percy by the shoulders to keep him calm. The other boy was on the verge of a panic attack over nothing. "Percy, breathe. Everything is gonna be okay. Our parents will meet each other, will like each other and we will spend a nice night all together".

Percy: "At least I thought I could have your Dad's approval, but now he will hate me too". He whined.

Luke: "Dad doesn't hate you. He finds you sweet and cute ☺️. So stop worrying."

Percy: "Our first time was a disaster!"

Luke: "Our first time was perfect. You made me feel loved, happy and cared for. I could have asked for nothing more. We can work on the technique another time. The question is: was it nice for you too, Perce?"

Percy: "Yeah... yeah, it was".

Luke: "Good, then it was perfect. A perfect first time 😁".

Percy looked down, defeated. What Luke had said was not entirely true and several of his insecutities were rooted in it.

In hindsight he couldn't say that many of the problems he had during his past relationship with Annabeth didn't still plague him, even if he tried to not mind them.

What is perfection? What allows you to define something as perfect? Nothing truly alive can be described as perfect, because each one of us gives to this word a different meaning. Learn to live with your limits, kid. Suddenly these words came back to his mind and Percy felt like he could let himself breath for the first time tonight.

Once Luke had taken him to visit the Garden of Eden and there Percy had met Joshua, another "uncle" of his boyfriend. The calm he had felt in that garden had shocked him to the core and the demigod had found himself visiting Joshua often in the last months, while Luke was busy with his cousin Jack.

Joshua the Gardner had become his unofficial therapist and Percy thought he had made some progress in healing the countless wounds on his young psyche.

Percy: "But it was not my first time. You know this, Luke".

Perfection was an impossible thing to achieve and he had to learn to live with his short-comings.

Luke: "It was your first time with me. I know you have a past, Percy: I'm not stupid. And I'm glad that at least one of us knew where to put his hands". Luke winked at him and everything in their world was right again. The blonde had this ability to make you believe anything he said just because he had said it. It was like a super power. "Our future will be full of first times, Perce". At once his smile became quite sinister. "Whatever Nico di Angelo thinks of us 😑."

Percy: "You're scaring me".

Luke: "Ops 😅. Sorry, babe! Do you feel better now?"

Percy: "I think so. I'm... I'm not regretting what we did but I would have liked to have a little more privacy, though".

Luke shrugged. "Angels, Perce. We don't know what it is".

Fucking Angels and their need to spy on them. A bunch of peeping Toms, that's what they were. But Percy knew better than to say what he really thought about those flying bastards to Luke. He was already on thin ice with his boyfriend's family. "Your uncle Gabe sent me a thank you basket for deflowering you!"

Luke: "And it was the best chocolate I have ever tasted 😁. Uncle Gabe is a genius!"

Percy: "Any chance your other uncles won’t know we had sex?"

Luke: "Mmm, maybe Castiel. The parents don't like him much. Cas and the Winchesters are as thick as thieves".

Percy: "Damn!"

Luke: "The joys of a hive mind. Angels like to gossip a lot 🤣".

Percy raised his eyes to swear again: "Fuck!"

Luke: "Maybe later 😁. I want to be on top this time 🤔".

Percy: "🫣" *silence* "Luke?"

Luke: "Mmm?"

Percy: "Do we really need to go to this dinner? We can stay at home, order Thai and try to..."

Luke: "To?"

"Don't make me sound like a stupid teenager 😠. We could... make love again?"

The nephilim put an arm around his man, giving him a loud kiss on the cheek. "Ohhhh, Percy! Sassy prince of my heart, as much as I’d love to stay here and ride you till dawn, my dad didn’t raise a quitter. Go and get ready or we will be late!"

Percy: "I hate you!"

Luke: "Youuuu loooooovvvvvveeeee me 😁"

Percy: "Well, at least my dad won't be there tonight."

Luke let go of a guilty whistle, removing his arm from Percy's shoulders. "I wouldn't be so sure of it".

A chilling shiver ran down the poor demigod's back. "Fuck! We're doomed 🥲".

(This is getting out of hand, @darkcrowprincess 😅)

#luke milligan #percy jackson #spn au #midam #adam milligan #archangel michael #crossover #lukercy #perluke #midam spn #otp: doomed by the narrative 🗡️🌊#luke is the new darkness #luke castellan #I really need to find a title for this thing 😅#Spotify #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series

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