#I WAS GOING TO IGNORE IT BUT THEN MY CONSCIOUSNESS TOLD ME... NO.... YOURE ROBBING HIM OF PERFECTLY FINE LINES!!!! 💔💔

[thedrotter]

Re:Kinder Fun Facts of the day☺️!!! Have you ever wondered who talks the most from the main cast in Re:Kinder?? Well, I did😊. Today I'll be answering this question with some graphs and as a bonus telling you what words each character uses the most! I will warn you, this will be a bit long and I don't know how to be less verbose so, yeah!!!

First, I've made some basic rules as to what I counted regarding how much the characters speak. Not all lines really count as speaking, after all.

Any of the incoherent screaming lines don't count. There's a lot of screaming since the characters die a lot (as expected for a horror RPG game), but I don't really count that as speaking unless they're saying proper words. In that same vein, I didn't really count any of the panting or sniffing and such that are conveyed through words. Again, I don't really see that as a character actively speaking their thoughts!

If I cannot tell who a line belongs to, I will not give it to anyone. This happens for certain lines, so I felt this rule was important.

I won't be counting repetitions of the same line if it's on a variation of the same scene. This may sound a bit strange, but when a character dies, the game goes on to the same next scene it would regardless (unless the scene that follows it is an ending), with variations and new lines here and there to account for the dead character, but a lot will be reused and placed in the exact same beats it normally would have been in originally. So, this rule is here for that. Oh, and also the scenes with bits of Yuuichi's backstory that appear in Shunsuke's head won't be counted twice, because some appear twice line by line.

Of course, the "..." lines won't count. I am so sorry Aya!!!!😞

Now that the ground rules have been set, there's just one thing I want to mention. Though I will count all the total lines for Takumi and Yuuichi like any other character, I just want to mention that first I will have two separate counts for them! Takumi | Takumiel and Yuuichi | Yuuichi's Heart respectively.

Takumiel is separate because I was curious about how much Takumi spoke as an archangel compared to when he was alive. Yuuichi's Heart is because he speaks so much he feels notable enough to be given his own division, even if he and Yuuichi at the end of the day are one person

(I count the silly mind telepathy where Shunsuke is being directly spoken to [and being told things normal Yuu would avoid saying at that point] and the comical theater as Yuuichi's Heart. I clarify in case one assumes he only starts being counted the moment he's directly labelled as Yuuichi's Heart. Any line that can't be distinguished between Yuuichi's Heart and Yuuichi will be given to Yuuichi by default.)

With nothing else to be clarified let's get to the numbers!!!😊😊

First, the line counts with Takumiel and Yuuichi's Heart counted individually!! Here are the rankings:

Shunsuke (With a lead of 535 lines over second place!!)

Yuuichi

Rei

Yuuichi's Heart

Hiroto

Ryou

Sayaka

Aya

Takumi

Takumiel

You may be thinking— woah, does Shunsuke really speak that much?! You could say that, for a good chunk of those lines are from how he describes interactable points around the map and his inner thoughts, so they aren't all exactly said out loud. The benefit of being the protagonist, I suppose ww

Funny enough, Yuuichi's Heart has almost as many lines as Yuuichi does for not having that much time in the game, being on the higher end between the characters that don't get the benefit of being a protagonist (lol)!

Admittedly I had expected for Rei and Hiroto to have a more similar amount of lines given their nearly equal amount of presence, but for what it is Rei surpassed Hiroto by 51 lines! I also had expected for Takumiel to speak a little bit more than Takumi but turns out the opposite is true.

While the lack of lines of Takumi and Takumiel are to be expected due to their short time on the game, what stands out is Aya not even reaching triple digits between her other peers who are in there for most of the game. This is because a good chunk of Aya's lines in game are silence!^^" And thus weren't counted. If ellipses were a word, she surely would have reached triple digits, but unfortunately they're not.

Now the line count with combined sums of Takumi | Takumiel and Yuuichi | Yuuichi's Heart!!!

In here, the ranking isn't affected, with Yuuichi remaining second place and Takumi being last place. But the disparity of everyone's numbers compared to Takumi's feels a bit more clear to see when Takumiel isn't individually counted.

With Yuuichi's line counts combined, Shunsuke remains 318 lines ahead of him, but it also means Yuuichi has a 59% the amount of Shunsuke's lines; and impressive feat for someone who doesn't get the benefit of being the point of view for everything you press... Although he does also have an upper hand over everyone by essentially being the plot of this game ww

But maybe line counts do not suffice to tell how much a character speaks. Yes, Shunsuke has a bunch of lines from everything he interacts with, but is it really reliable to say he speaks all that much in all those lines? A good chunk of those could easily have 3 words each! So with this in mind, let's do a word count.

Even in a word count, Shunsuke has the lead, having a lead of 2,247 words over second place. But we'll see about that when we combine Yuuichi's numbers. Anyway, here's the ranking!

Shunsuke

Yuuichi's Heart

Yuuichi

Rei

Hiroto

Ryou

Sayaka

Aya

Takumi

Takumiel

This time, Yuuichi's Heart is the one at second place!!! It's pretty funny that he speaks more than his physical counterpart ww. I genuinely didnt think he'd out yap himself that way when I chose to count for him individually 😭!!! He has a lead of 63 words over himself, but a lead nonetheless.

In here, Rei and Hiroto are more even than in the line counts, with the difference seeming more minimal when put into words. But it also showcases that despite Rei having more lines than Yuuichi's Heart in the line count, those only get to have a bit over half of the amount of words he talks (To be fair he does get to infodump a lot in his section of the game).

And here's the combined word count!!! Suddenly Shunsuke's lead is only by a mere 55 words! So Yuuichi speaks about as much as he does with 318 less lines.

I must admit that I genuinely did not expect it to be that close. When I chose to count the lines for when you interact with things for Shunsuke, I thought he was granted to speak an absurd amount more than anyone else. But turns out that Yuuichi speaks about the same amount out loud when most of Shunsuke's are his own thoughts ww. But it does make sense! He is still the plot of this game.

So, after all those charts, here's the average/middle point of lines and words for characters to have, because why not, it's fun.

Average Line Count (YH and Takumiel counted individually): 197 lines

Average Line Count (When combined): 247 lines

Average Word Count (YH and Takumiel counted individually): 1,333 words

Average Word Count (When combined): 1,666 words

So there it is. That's how much the characters in Re:Kinder speak!

But wait!!! I am not done. I will share with you an additional fun fact... Did you ever want to know what word each of these characters said the most?! This one will be quicker, I do promise.

When it came to counting these words I did not count stop words, that being common words that are used all the time by everyone in English. "I, you, me, the, to, a, my, your, yes, no"... Words like that! Otherwise everyone would have one of those as their most said word and it'd be rather boring to look at. With that said, here are the words these characters say the most!

Shunsuke: Yuuichi - said 40 times! (this genuinely confused me so much im sorry he uses interjections so much I had expected it to be something like "huh" or "um" but no i dont know how this passed by me as i was rounding up all the lines he says or proofreading or writing all of those lines WHAT?!?! its been two days and it still takes me out)

Ryou: Shunsuke - Said 14 times

Sayaka: Murderer - Said 7 times (All in one sentence!)

Takumi | Takumiel (counted in one for how little he speaks.): Takumiel - Said 3 times (That name is so important, he said it thrice.)

Aya: Sorry - Said 5 times

Rei: Hell, gonna, look, Yuuchi - said 8 times (Most of the repeated words she says are stop words for she doesn't tend to speak about the same things repeatedly.)

Hiroto: Shunsuke - Said 17 times

Yuuichi (separate from YH): Problem - Said 17 times

Yuuichi's Heart: Mama - Said 24 times

Yuuichi (Overall): Mama - Said 31 times

So that is finally it. That is the fun fact of today.😊😊 Use this to woe your friends at parties!!!

I am aware Mami speaks about enough to be counted in, but this is pretty time consuming to do and I'm not sure anyone is invested on her enough to count her in. But if there's enough curiosity regarding that, I'll try counting her in. But for now this suffices.☺️ Thanks for reading!

[countrymusiclover]

85 - Another Vampire Pregnancy

Part 86

Gemini Runaway

@icefrye19 @secretdreamlandmentality

"So let's get this story started, Valerie. You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine afterwards.” I told plopping down on the couch beside Klaus and Caroline.

He draped his arms over the backside watching the girls sitting on the couch with Valerie. “I’m surprised that you haven’t thrown us out of the house. Considering that we are not welcomed guests by all the heretics I imagine.”

“Mary Louise and Nora are the worst. They are short tempered and don’t care much for using morality and what not. Although I am also a bitch if you cross me.” The heretic told us sternly.

Klaus smirked and tugged me into his chest. “Sounds just like my darling wife, Raelyn.”

“Can we get on topic here. You said you were going to tell us about yourself.” Caroline interrupted the conversation crossing her legs over each other. “Because if I am going to be stuck here we should at least get to know about you.”

Valerie smirked at the blonde vampire. “I wasn't just some girl to him, Caroline. I was the first love of Stefan's life. I wasn't prepared for how taken I was with him. He was gorgeous and sweet.”

“And that's when you compelled him to write all those nice things about you in his journal.” Caroline rolled her eyes.

“Spoiler!” The triplets all grumbled.

Caroline snaps at her. “I've heard this story before when a sweet, little orphan girl named Katherine Pierce waltzed into his life.”

“Ah yes. The annoying woman that is Katerina Petrova!.” Klaus clicked his to rolling his eyes at the mention of her name.

Valerie kept going with her story. “I suppose that would have been easier had I actually had the ability to compel people. I wasn't a vampire back then. I was just a witch rejected from her coven for being an abomination of nature because I had no power of my own. The only magic I had was contained in an amulet to be siphoned in times of need.”

“Like I used to skip with my brother Jacob’s necklace that I gave him when we were kids.” I snap my fingers smiling that I wasn’t the only one to think of something like that.

Caroline leaned forward on the couch after the heretic told us that her and Stefan had begun to meet in secret and that his mother wouldn’t like it. “I know why you put that burning spell on me.

It's not so Mary Louise and Nora couldn't touch me. It's so Stefan wouldn't. Be more obvious.”

She glared at her smiling at Klaus and I. “Well, since you're so curious, please allow me to continue. It was his first time. I'm sure you've been someone's first, so you know what it's like to have a completely unforgettable place in someone else's mind.”

“Oh yes I shall remember that night for our immortal lives.” My husband smirked at me, tucking some hair behind my ear when I turned my head to meet his gaze.

I felt my face turn red thinking back to that night with him. “Klaus, I don’t think Valerie and Caroline want to hear that. And our girls are listening.”

“It doesn’t matter, Rae. I shall remember every detail perfectly.” He nuzzled his nose into my neck where I lightly pushed him away, chuckling at him.

Caroline trailed off ignoring what Klaus and I were discussing beside her. “Of course.”

She made a poker face. “That's what I thought.”

“But as we all know this story doesn’t have a fairytale ending for you two.” Klaus stared at her where silence fell over the roof briefly.

“He waited and waited for me. With every passing footstep, he would turn, expecting to see me. Julian solved his dilemma by beating me senseless till I was left near dead and the other heartbeat inside me stopped. When I regained consciousness, I was on the ship to England.

Lily said Julian had found me robbed and beaten on the street. She believed him of course, and she healed me with her blood. Julian knew I could never tell Lily what he had done because that would also have exposed my lies.” Valerie sighed heavily, finishing her story where she wiped away tears with her sleeve. “She never would have forgiven me for having an affair with her son. I didn't want to live under Julian's thumb, so that night as we crossed the Atlantic, I drew myself a bath, laced my tea with laudanum, and went quietly to sleep...But I died with Lily's blood in my system...And by virtue of pure happenstance, I became the first heretic.”

Leaning forward on the couch I covered my mouth with my hands not sure what to say. “Woah okay. I guess it’s my turn now.”

“Yes it is but I can shorten some of it for you. You or your parents were banished from the Gemini coven. But since you have a brother I can only assume he is your twin. Have I missed any of the simple explanations?” Valerie asked, raising a cup of blood to her lips.

Slumping my shoulders I eyed my husband and then our daughters who were now playing games away from us by the stairs. “My brother Jacob and I were forced to merge because our uncle Joshua Parker wasn’t patient enough. I won and ran to Mystic Falls where I met this guy. But it wasn’t love at first sight.”

“More like she launched me against the wall. A few dates here and there after my mother the Original witch attempts to kill her along with me and my siblings.” Klaus put his hands together scooting up beside me.

I glanced at him continuing my story. “Anyway we got together and then we learned that I could get pregnant by him when I was human because he was born a werewolf before he became a vampire. After that I was killed by some of his enemies in this town and we thought they were dead when I transitioned into a heretic.”

“So what about the adorable triplets over there? Cause they clearly are of both your bloodlines.” Valerie nudged her head in the direction of the girls seeing that they had our hair or our eye colors.

Clasping my hands together I met her gaze. “Basically we found out that after I consumed his mothers dark magic that my belly is still alive. So I can conceive more children even though the rest of my body is technically dead…huh uh sorry Alairc needs us.” Pulling my phone out we grabbed the girls since she undid the spell letting Caroline leave.

Alaric apparently had gotten to have a day with Josette who had come back by some magic. But she had to leave because whatever brought her here was killing her. Valerie had come over to his place with us while we left the girls at the mansion. Turning my head towards the tv I recognized the coven voices chanting from their wedding. “It's my wedding video post-explosion. I've never been able to watch it past the wedding vows.” Alaric explained seeing me and Valerie watching it.

Caroline told her. “Valerie, turn it off.”

She ignored her. “Quiet. I recognize this chant. That Gemini kid Kai thought they were sending him to a prison world.”

The blonde vampire tried to turn it off. “Who cares? Turn it off.”

“No. You're not listening. They weren't sending him away, Caroline. They were trying to save the next generation of Gemini twins. I think your babies are still alive.” Valerie glanced back at me, Klaus and Alaric.

We moved into another room where he rolled out a map and Klaus got some candles with the five of us gathered around the table. “Twins are the lifeblood of the Gemini coven. If a pregnant mother is in danger, then the transfer is our magical failsafe. It's rarely used but used nonetheless.”

Caroline leaned forward in disbelief. “Ric, tell me that this isn't crazy.”

He told her shifting his gaze toward me and Klaus. “My wife, who died months ago, just looked me in the eyes and said good-bye to me. Why the hell not?”

“Because I don't want you to get your hopes up for something that's insane.” She told her former history teacher.

Placing my hands on the table I stared at my best friend then moved one hand to my stomach. “Caroline, I love you but I think insane went out of the window a long time ago. Considering that I got to have three miracle babies after I was turned. So what does he have to do, Valerie?”

“I need your blood. Now put it here... Indonesia, farthest geographical point from Mystic Falls. Your progeny are, obviously, made up of your DNA. If they're alive, the blood will travel along the map. Once it's in the proximity of the babies, the map should ignite. Close your eyes. Clear your mind.”

She grabbed Ric’s hand dropping his blood over the map beginning to chant. “Phesmatos quare infantatum. Phesmatos quare filios. Ado finet terraeum. Nunc temos rogamus. Combutis et sanguinem. Phesmatos quare infantatum. Finet terraeum. Nunc temos rogamus. Combutis et sanguinem. Phesmatos quare infantatum. Ado finet terraeum. Nunc temos rogamus. Combutis et sanguinem. Phesmatos quare filios.”

Klaus leaned forward whispering in my ear. “That’s the spell the Bennett witch used for you isn’t it.”

“Yep it is. Now let’s see if it work’s like it did for us.” I reached down grabbing his hand in mine looking at the blood moving on the map.

Caroline warns when the blood is reaching the edge of the map. “Guys, I don't think it's working.”

Valerie didn’t stop chanting with the blood falling off the table and onto the floor. “Nunc temos rogamus. Combutis et sanguinem.”

Caroline grabbed a rag about to wipe it up but when her hand hit the blood it set on fire making her jump backwards. “Guys, stop. The spell isn't working, ok? The blood's just off the map now. See? I warned you not to get your hopes up. Oh, my God!”

“Ok. What the hell happened?” Alairc asked the heretic.

Valerie focused her sight on Caroline. “Not possible.”

I stepped towards Valerie holding my hand over my stomach teasing her. “Are you people forgetting I literally can have kids because I nearly died from consuming black magic!”

“My wife is right. All not possible pregnancies are out the window now.” Klaus stood at my side turning his head towards Caroline listening for a heartbeat but couldn’t find one.

“I believe you both…” Valerie snapped mumbling under her breath. “Babies. They're here.”

Caroline throws her hands up still in disbelief. “Where, huh, floating in a raft look at the map. Your spell didn't work.”

“They're not on the map, Caroline. They're inside of you.” Valerie walked toward Caroline with Alaric standing behind her.

Klaus claps his hands behind his back smiling at the vampire. “Another miracle vampire pregnancy. This should be interesting.”

“See when we will you people stop arguing or being in denial and just realize I know what I’m talking about!” I snapped, throwing my hands up in the air smirking at my husband.

[thatrandomwriter]

Returning the favor

Merle x female reader, reader saves Merle’s life after he cuts off his hand

Warnings: sexual language, slight gore, cursing

A banging at the door made me jump awake - I never slept deeply anymore, and I spent most of my nights in and out of what could barely be described as sleep, easily woken and constantly exhausted.

My first thought was a particularly persistent walker. But then I heard a voice, raspy and southern “I saw you through the window. Open up. Or I swear, I’ll kick this damn door down.” It was most likely a looter. Opening the door to him seemed immediately like the stupid option, but if he was serious about knocking my door down then I would have to find a new place to hide out, an extra risk I could not afford to take. My best bet was to overpower him at the door. He’d seen me through the window and probably assumed that I’d be easily threatened, but what he hadn’t seen was the pistol I kept hidden by the door, or the knives I had stashed under my mattress and around the small room.

The banging on the door got more persistent. I grabbed a knife, and ensured my gun was easily in reach. It wouldn’t hurt to have extra weapons he didn’t know about.

I swung open the door. A tall, broad man stood in my doorway. One arm was pointing a gun vaguely in my direction, the other dripping so much blood it almost looked black. His hand had been cut off.

“Get out. All your shit is mine now, don’t think I won’t shoot you just cuz yer a girl,” He sneered at me, feigning confidence, but his skin was tinged grey and sweat was beading on his brow. He was weak and there was no way he could physically overpower me in this state, despite his muscular frame.

I raised a sceptical eyebrow at his threat. Then, in one swift motion, I knocked the gun from his hand and pushed my knife to his throat, firmly enough for a small bead of blood to gather on the edge of the blade. He opened his mouth, probably about to say something stupid, before the full weight of his body collapsed into me and he lost consciousness.

*

Somehow, with strength I hadn’t even known I had, I half lifted, half dragged the man’s body over to my mattress on the floor. It was clear he had lost far too much blood. I knew it was stupid, but some part of me wanted to help him, even though I knew he had come here to rob me blind, and possibly to kill me after he had taken all of my possessions. I told myself it was because leaving him outside would attract walkers. But really some part of me was still weak and soft, and somehow I had sympathy for a man who could not give less of a shit about me.

Minor medical training from books I had scavenged and stolen told me that he was in desperate need of stitches, and likely had a severe infection from his wound, and that it needed to be treated fast or there was no way he could survive without a hospital, which, for obvious reasons, was not an option. The building I had set up camp in was a small convenience store in the city which I used to run, and decided to stay in when the dead started walking. Unfortunately, the store had tempted many thieves in the early days, but as time went on, less and less people braved the city. The man must have seen that my store was the least damaged for several blocks, and identified it as his best bet at survival. He was right - behind the counter were antibiotics and just enough first aid equipment for me to have a chance at saving him. Even if he had stolen my supplies, it was unlikely that he would have managed treating his own wound.

The stitches were the worst part. I had never liked needles, and as far as facing my fears went, this was seriously hands on. It was messily done, probably a laughable job compared to professional standards. And I was sure that the amount of blood on the floor, my hands and staining my clothes was biologically impossible. But somehow he was still alive, something I still hadn’t decided was a good or bad thing. At least he was unconscious for now.

*

Two days passed. I was getting used to sleeping with him around, trying not to think about what he might do if he awoke while I was asleep- waking up to a gun in my face was a real possibility, but one that I had to risk. I slept on the floor next to the mattress he was occupying, uncomfortable enough to be exhausted but easily woken if he or the walkers became an immediate threat.

I sat next to him on the mattress, cleaning his arm, checking that the infection was fading and that the stitches were holding like they should be. It was strange looking after someone who had barely spoken two sentences to me, those sentences being delirious threats after severe blood loss. I often found myself wondering what he would have been like if we had met before the world had ended, at a bar maybe, where he could have bought me a drink or two. I like to think that he would have been the type to hit on me shamelessly and I would have been cynical but secretly loved his advances. I cut myself off in my head. It was ridiculous to think like this. With some effort, I focused back on his arm and began to change his bandage, but my eyelids were growing heavy and I had forgotten how comfortable the mattress was. Every time I closed my eyes, sleep tried to pull me down. I just had to keep them open, just had to focus-

I jolted awake. It almost pitch dark, if I had to guess a time I would have said an hour or two before dawn. There was a hand around my mouth and an arm was around my waist, holding me still against the warm, hard body behind me. He had woken up. Immediately I struggled against him, biting his hand and elbowing him in the stomach. He swore under his breath, but his grip only tightened around me.

“Stop wrigglin’. There’s walkers in here, I’m tryna figure out how many, so for fuck’s sake stay still.”

I nodded. He removed the hand from my mouth, but the arm around my waist stayed. Probably a precaution in case I tried anything again.

“Sorry,” I whispered back. “How did they get in - and when did you wake up? What’s your name? Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Now wasn’t the time for questions, but I was desperate for answers. For all I knew, the only reason he hadn’t killed me yet was to keep me as bait for the walkers.

He shushed me. Then, he finally let go of me and stood up. “Wait here.”

He walked off in the direction of a shuffling noise, and seconds later I heard the thunk of a knife through a skull, and the sound of a body hitting the floor. The sound, quiet as it was, caused another walker’s movements to become frenzied. I heard snarling and then the sound of a second body hitting the floor. There were no more walker sounds, just the sound of the man walking back towards me.

I jumped to my feet and reached for the knife normally hooked through my belt. It was gone, as was the knife under my mattress. I had no defence against the stranger that I had so stupidly taken care of.

“Window’s broken, s’what woke me up. You were out cold. Hope ya had a nice nap.”

I stood up, trying to read his face in the growing bit still dim light.

“Name’s Merle. And you, sugar tits, are exceptionally lucky that I believe in returning favours.”

So he didn’t plan on killing me after all. I shook off the lingering fear caused by both him and the walkers getting so close.

“Thanks. And you’re welcome, I stitched you up good. And don’t call me that, or I’ll chop of your other hand,” He smirked at me, knowing my threat was entirely empty.

“Oh yeah? I’m not so sure you wanna do that, sweetheart, you haven’t seen the half of what I can do with this hand,” His smile was suggestive and I could feel my face getting hot.

“I’m gonna board up the broken window,” I attempted to ignore his last sentence, but it was clear he could tell I was flustered as he stepped forward, closing in on me.

“Don’t ya think we should get to know each other a little first?”

[lilallama]

Valentines Day

TW: Obsessive behaviour, mentioning of stealing and slight homophobia, proceed with caution!

"Taehyung sweetie, wake up.~"

I groan and turn in my sheets, slowly regaining consciousness. "I've prepared you breakfast. Get dressed and come downstairs." The clacking of my mother's heels echoed through the hall as she went away. Groggily I sit up and stretch. I push my bangs out of my eyes I stare towards the window to my left. The sun shines through the thin curtains casting an orange light on my bedroom wall. I yawn and stand up, pulling the curtains aside and flooding the room with light. I take a moment to look outside, admiring our beautiful garden before remembering what day it is. Today is Valentines day! My God/Goddess asked me to meet up with them. Oh, spending Valentines with my saviour is the best thing to have ever happened to me!

I rush to pick out a white dress shirt, a khaki sweater vest with a black pair of slacks. After also brushing through my hair to untangle any knots I opened my secret Y/n shrine. The picture of their smiling face makes my heart pound so fast. They are otherworldly, absolutely ethereal! I take out a shirt of theirs which I borrowed a while ago. If I close my eyes it still smells like them, it's addictive.

Just to make sure that no items were robbed from their place I go through all items once again. Five chewed on pencils, a small box of empty wrappers, my 20 most favourite photos of them, the candle they accidentally bit into because they thought it was edible, the borrowed shirt, a pair of their underwear, a bunch of pins and hair ties they touched, the bundle of 36 hair strands I managed to collect (I only collect the hairs that have fallen out, I would never dare to cut or rip out my God's/Goddess' hair) and my water bottle which they drank out of (I had to buy a new one to keep this in my shrine but it was so worth it). All my items were there.

Suddenly I hear clacking and a small thud. I turn around in confusion, what just happened? But then I hear Yeontan's bark from the other side of the door. He ran against the door again. I can't help but laugh as I go to open the door for him. He jumps up a bit so I kneel down to pet him. "I'm meeting up with Y/n today, isn't that exciting!" Yeontan immediately started yapping, he loved my God/Goddess almost as much as I do. It's really incredible what an effect Y/n has on everyone, they all seem to love them. Well, then again that is expected to be the case considering Y/n is such a godly being.

"Taehyung!" "I'm coming!" My mother called me again. "Come on, boy." I hurry downstairs with Yeontan following me. "Good morning, Ma. Good morning, Pa." My father nodded at me while my mother beckoned me to sit down and eat. While I finish my breakfast my mother was talking about a lot of stuff. "Have you heard, they're trying to make gay marriage legal here. That is complete nonsense! God created a man and a woman for a reason." I have no clue what my mother was raging about. I concluded that she's probably just misinformed, Y/n said that being part of the lgbtq community is completely natural and alright. I know they know better than anyone else. "What's so bad about it, Ma?" My mother looked at me with horror. "They can't help who they're attracted to. It's all natural, isn't it?" My mother shook her head. "No!" She exclaimed, "Being gay or trans or something is inherently selfish! Gays are selfish! Men and women were created by God to conceive a child and stop the human kind from getting extinct. Trans are selfish! God gave you a body and you chose to change it in it's entirety! Such behaviour is unacceptable." "But I thought God loves everyo-" "Where have you even gotten that idea? Maybe you should go back to homeschooling. Clearly these other kids are having a bad influence on you." I look over to my father who just continues reading the newspaper. I respect my mother but she clearly isn't ready yet for the wisdom Y/n has bestowed upon me. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. "Look at the time we'll have to go now." Right, it was Sunday which means we're going to church. I always like going there, the windows astound me everytime. And the pastor is always so welcoming and friendly. I vividly remember asking him about the lgbtq community after Y/n had told me about them. He said that God loves everyone regardless of their sexuality or gender identity. He truly is a wise man.

As soon as we returned my father got a call from a business partner. They said they'd have to go now and want me to take Yeontan with me to my meet up. While I was a bit saddened that I couldn't be alone with my God/Goddess I decided it wouldn't be a problem.

Yeontan excitedly trots besides me as I make my way to the place where my saviour and I would meet up. I debated getting them a bouquet of red roses for Valentines day, but figured that the 20 letters, 12 stuffed animals and 18 bouquets I gave them during the past week would be enough, for now. As I make my way there I couldn't conceal the excitement I felt. Getting the chance to spend time with my Master/Mistress was something I believed I'd only ever dream about. The euphoria I feel from the mere thought of getting to see them today is dizzying.

Suddenly Yeontan starts barking and storms off. He never leaves my side, that's why he's not kept on a leash. To see him run away from me like that was surprising at best. But then I notice the reason for his behaviour. The puppy ran towards Y/n who was waiting for me a few metres away. How could I have just ignored my saviour like that! What I did was unacceptable. I would punish myself, but it would likely ruin Y/n's day, I can't let that happen. So I run after Yeontan, towards my God/Goddess.

"Good morning, Y/n! I'm sorry about him." I look down at Yeontan who's still getting pet by Y/n. He better cherish that they're even looking at him. It's bad enough that he practically demanded pats from them. So disrespectful. "No worries. He's so adorable!" At least Y/n seemed to enjoy his behaviour. I doubt it would work if I behaved that way towards them, but that's for another day to find out. "I dearly hope you didn't have to wait too long." They smile up at me. Oh, their smile is to die for. So incredibly perfect! I feel my knees getting weak. "Don't worry about it. I just arrived too." Yeontan started barking again and was noe excitedly jumping around, making Y/n laugh. "Awe! Yeontan is so adorable. I didn't know you'd take him with you." "It was unexpected for me as well." They stand up and take my hand. My heart is beating so fast, I feel as if I'm about to explode. It's getting harder to breathe. "Let's go now!" We start walking along the path with Yeontan rushing after us.

We sat outside a small café and each ordered our desired dessert. "Have you ever been on a date?" That question caught me off guard. "Oh, no. I haven't." I believe that much was quite obvious, but perhaps I was mistaken. They look surprised, shocked almost. "Really? How come? Aren't you getting asked out left and right?" "I suppose I just never had interest in anyone. I barely know those who ask me out. They're all so shallow to confess without knowing anything about me." Just then the waiter returned with our desserts. We thank him before we start eating.

Both of us watch as Yeontan is running around and playing in the snow. I look over to see Y/n smile at him, leading me to also smile. I adore their smile. Everything about them is so perfect. I could stare at them for hours and never get bored. Each detail is something new, something beautiful to discover. Unable to take y eyes off them I-

"Excuse me." Who dares interrupt my special time with my God/Goddess?! Two girls stood next our table. One almost cowering behind the other and mumbling something along the lines of, "Oh my god, no. Jess, don't." But I really couldn't care less. "My friend thinks you're really cute and was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with her." So annoying. I eye them down and make one thing clear. "I'm not interested." The girl cowering behind the other looked disappointed, perhaps ashamed. Good. She should be. After they interrupted my date with the Y/n they can go burn for all I care. "Have a good day." After the girls back away with the other girl exclaiming, "What a jerk!" I turn my attention back to Y/n. "Uhm, wasn't that a bit harsh?" They looked unsure. "Was it? I thought it was reasonable. Better to tell the truth than lead them on, am I correct?" They took another bite of their dessert. "I guess you're right."

We had a grand time strolling through the park, even having a snowball fight. They won. Obviously I could not compete with my God/Goddess, no one could ever. Yeontan was also very entertained as he kept trying to catch the snowballs as they flew over his head. Soon the sun began setting. It was incredible how fast the time flew by. Both our clothes were slightly damp due to the snow. I didn't think much about it untill Y/n began shivering. No no no no! My saviour could get sick, or die! I couldn't let that happen. I take off my jacket and gently place it over their shoulders. "But, won't you be cold?" I give them a reassured smile. "Don't worry about me, my God/Goddess. If I may, I'd love to accompany on your way home." They let out a bashful chuckle, making me melt. I feel my entire body heating up from that gorgeous chuckle. Their power over me is simply astounding.

All the way home I keep my arm atound them in hopes of providing some form of warmth for them. I cannot bear knowing that they're freezing. Never would I be able to forgive myself if they'd catch a cold. Yeontan was also slowly getting tired, which was by bo means a surprise considering how he played and jumped around all day. "Thank you for bring me home, Taehyung." Hearing them say my name makes my entire body tingle and flutter. "You do not have to thank me, Y/n. It was an honour!" Whatever I expected, it was not feeling their lips against mine. My mind went blank and I could barely stand. I felt dizzy, yet so so good! They gave me my jacket back after the short peck and laughed. "Goodnight!" Then they went inside and closed the door. I stood there for a moment, shocked at what had happened yet freling absolute bliss. After a minute or so I manage to finally pull myself together. I put on my jacket, it smells like them! And then I picked Yeontan up and walked home.

Oh, this day was the best I've ever had!

If you liked my work please reblog! ��

[yodawgiherd]

You Were Never Truly Gone

>>>Read on AO3<<<<

Rating: T

!!!! This is a post-139 story so please don't read if you didn't get to the chapter yet!!!!

Alright! As you guys know I am a certified™ cope machine and there was no way that I could NOT do something after the finale. Those who follow me on tumblr/twitter know that I was not exactly happy with how things went. Therefore, I have written this.

Might continue if you guys like it :)))

Today, It was three years. Three years since she lost him, three years since she was forced to kill the love of her life to save the world. Three years since her heart shattered to a thousand pieces. Three years since….

Mikasa felt the tears on her face, slowly sliding down as she caressed the cold headstone of Eren’s grave. Here, under the tree where they often rested was the place of his final sleep. The end of the journey.

And it still hurt.

The same despair that tore her apart when Sasha died, only amplified now that it was him who would never come back to her. It was necessary, they all knew that Eren planned to sacrifice himself since the start. Her blade was the one that saved everyone, but it did nothing to ease the pain. Sometimes, in the darkness of the night, Mikasa found herself envious. Envious of all the people who were blessed with a happy reunion. Envious of Armin and Annie who were newly engaged, envious of Falco and Gabi and their budding happiness. Envious of the families that got to embrace their loved ones freely while she could never do it again.

And that was not all.

Even Historia managed to find happiness with her child. Yes, it was forced unto her by the circumstances, but her husband truly loved her, and the queen adored their offspring. When Mikasa visited and got to hold the child or play with him, she often felt needles pricking at her heart. Why was she robbed of having the possibility? Why could she never have a child of her own?

Technically she could, of course, she was still a young woman, but Eren left a hole in her heart that no other human being was capable of filling. The tattoo on her wrist, the one she was supposed to pass down to her children? Well, it would appear that it would stay with her and her alone. When she and Armin got drunk one night and he told her everything about what transpired in the paths when she heard him say just how much Eren loved her back Mikasa was hurt like never before. Back then, she envied again, but differently.

She envied all the dead people because they could not feel pain anymore.

Then again, not everyone got their happiness back. Mikasa spent a lot of time with Levi over many teas as they talked and talked and reminisced. The captain lost everyone too, Erwin, Hange, his old squad, and none of them came back. He was just as hurt as she was. And when she broke down one day, openly sobbing in front of him, it was one of the few times that she saw Levi cry because he shared her pain.

It would not be fair to say that Mikasa Ackerman was stuck in the past. Usually, she was fine, her thoughts were not occupied solely by the past and by what she lost, but this place, this grave always picked her apart.

She traveled the world, alone or with Armin and Annie, seeing all the wonders that were once walled off. She visited Hizuru too but didn’t stay, much to Kiyomi’s dismay. Maybe one day Mikasa would be able to leave everything behind and take up her mantle as shogun’s descendant, but that was still far off. The wounds were too fresh.

When in Paradis Mikasa lived in a small cabin, just as the one in her and Eren’s dream, although it felt painfully empty without him sometimes. The small garden and the few animals kept her busy, but there were nights where she tossed and turned and remembered how it felt to hold him.

“Eren… I wish to see you again.”, she murmured, the hopeless whisper falling from her lips, overcome with those suppressed feelings here at Eren’s grave on the anniversary of the day he died. The day he left her forever.

Others would be here soon, they always gathered here on this day, remembered Eren as their friend and comrade, the man who sacrificed himself for them. But to her, he meant so, so much more – the future she could never have, the man that she loved more than life itself, the love that she was forced to sacrifice on the altar of the greater good.

In her darkest moments, Mikasa wondered if it was worth it. Home, family, those were the things she so desperately wanted, needed, and fought for, and yet they were taken from her. She cut them off herself with the blade and was now forced to suffer the unjust consequences.

Alone.

Her brooding was interrupted by something tugging at the end of her scarf. It was a bird, she realized, one that quickly flapped its wings and flew away when the fabric wouldn’t leave her neck. Looking after it, as it soared up high, Mikasa’s sadness broke with a melancholic smile. Is this the freedom that Eren wanted? The one he died for? Is he still there, watching her from the heavens above? Would she meet him in another life, perhaps?

And then, someone cleared his throat behind her.

“So, you’re still wearing that old thing?”

Mikasa’s eyes widened. No, this wasn’t possible. This wasn’t happening. That voice….

As quickly as she could Mikasa turned her head, the ponytail flapping in the wind. And there he was, looking just like the day she lost him, Eren Yeager with a half-smile on his face.

“Hello Mi-“, was all he managed to say before she tackled him, the two of them tumbling on the grass.

Ignoring the grunt the fall forced from Eren’s lips, Mikasa pressed her ear against his chest, just like all these years before. And again she was greeted by the steady beating sound, her eyes filling with tears.

“I’m dreaming.”, she sobbed, realizing that this must be her imagination, “You are not real.”

But he didn’t disappear. He didn’t dissolve into a fog and Mikasa didn’t wake up hugging her pillow instead. No, he was here, beneath her, solid and very much alive. The hand that gently slid over her head, caressing the now-long midnight hair was warm.

“You grew out your hair.”, Eren noticed, the sound rumbling from the chest under her ear, “Looks good on you.”

And that was about the height of absurdity that Mikasa was willing to endure. Pulling back quickly, she fixed him with a stare.

“No. Eren, you don’t get to appear and talk about my damn hair. You don’t get to d-die for three years and then come back without a word.”, her hand was squeezing his shirt, she realized, squeezing it so much that her knuckles bled white, “You can’t do this to me.”

“I suppose that you deserve an explanation.”, he surrendered, mirroring her and sitting up.

His eyes slid over to the tiny headstone, to his own grave, noticing the flowers there. Mikasa also didn’t let him go, her hand was still wound tightly in his shirt. She was still scared that this was her mind playing tricks on her, that this was not real and he would dissimilate at a moment’s notice. Overcome with the urge to touch her, as he yearned for so long, Eren gently took hold of that pale hand, intertwining their fingers.

“I thought I would die.”, he began, “Exactly as I told Armin, I did not lie. When you cut me, the darkness was supposed to come in, to close my eyes forever. But it didn’t.”

He took a shuddering breath.

“I was stuck in the paths, but they weren’t paths anymore. With Ymir gone and the curse unraveled, they became a vortex of memories and thoughts, sucking me in and I could feel my consciousness slipping away. Back then, I almost let go.”

Eren couldn’t meet Mikasa’s eyes, staring at his grave instead, the tips of his ears turning red for some reason.

“I-I couldn’t let myself leave you like this M-Mikasa, I Uhm... I…”

“You love me.”

She said it herself, making Eren’s head whip up to look at her, the blush now spreading to his cheeks.

“Armin told me everything.”, she explained, “He told me that you wanted to be with me in the end.”

“Ugh, and I made him promise that he wouldn’t tell you.”

Mikasa squeezed his hand harder.

“He was drunk, don’t blame him.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Eren sighed, once again looking at the headstone and making a mental note to ask Armin about the broken promise later.

“Well, as I was saying, the paths were coming to an end, the vortex was slowly but surely losing power and the parts of it were dying. So I did the only thing I could think of – I started stitching myself back together.”

“What do you mean?”

“I walked through the memories, every single one, picked those that belonged to me, and held them.” He looked down, staring at his fingers, “I didn’t even have hands back then, no body, but somehow I could do it, I preserved my memories by will alone, I pulled and pulled and they went, they stayed with me.”, his face changed into a somewhat haunted expression, “It was terrible, painful, and the hardest thing that I have ever done, but I kept moving forward, I kept going until all of me was together again. The rest of the memories died, disappeared into nothing, and for a moment I was scared that I would end up like that, stuck in a dark abyss with nothing but my thoughts.”

Eren’s thumb caressed Mikasa’s hand where their fingers were tangled together, reminding her that she was listening with bated breath. Letting it out, she breathed and he went on.

“I knew that if I let go of the ones I was holding that I would be free, that I would finally cease to exist, but I couldn’t.”, even with the blush, he met Mikasa’s eyes when he continued, “I had those memories I shared with you, the ones of you and I couldn’t let them go.”

Mikasa was the one blushing now, matching the redness of Eren’s cheeks.

“I don’t even know what happened,”, Eren confessed, “But when I realized that I would never let go I was pulled into something. A body, made by Ymir no doubt, her parting gift for me.”

He looked back towards the grave.

“I didn’t regenerate or anything, the head is still under the tree, I was made anew by the goddess you freed.”

Mikasa choked on a sob, not even realizing that she started crying again. Gently, so gently Eren reached out, wiping the tear away from her eyes with his thumb, smiling.

“I woke up on that field, naked and with no idea how I got there, which was quite a problem.”

Even crying Mikasa laughed at that, the mental image too funny to ignore.

“Obviously I had no idea how much time had passed while I was putting myself back together from scraps, I had no map or anything to guide me.”, he tapped his chest, “But I had this feeling, this magnetic pull towards somewhere, and I knew that it was guiding me to you. Back to my home.”

She couldn’t take it anymore. Lunging forward Mikasa wrapped him in a firm hug, sobbing freely into his chest. And Eren held her and caressed her and did all the things she dreamt about for years, making her melt into him. This was way too good to be true.

“So I began walking,”, Eren picked up, intent on finishing his story, “reaching a town I stole some clothes and continued. Sniffing around I realized that it was almost three years since I “died”, and now I had nothing. I stole a lot, because I had no money, and almost got caught a few times but I kept moving here, to you.”

Mikasa held him closer when he said those words, breathing in the scent of those stolen clothes and finally realizing that this was real. This was happening.

“Finally I reached the ocean after a few weeks, and there I managed to sneak on a cargo ship that took me here.”

Very, very gently he pushed her so that she pulled back, and they were looking at each other. Mikasa noticed the slight tremble of Eren’s lips, indicating that there was something he had to say so she kept quiet, waiting for him to string the words together.

“Mikasa,”, he said, “I’m no longer the man I once was. Eren Yeager died at that battle, he died and disappeared and will never be seen again. This body, not even a hair is left behind by him. I’m not Eren Yeager anymore, in fact, I’m not anyone. I don’t have anything to offer you – my powers are gone, my name is gone, my personality is dead. I am no one, but there is one thing that is still nestled deep in my heart because I believe that the feeling would traverse space and time for you.”

Slowly he cupped her cheek, giving her all the time in the world to pull away. Yet she didn’t.

“Mikasa Ackerman, I love you with everything that I am and everything that I once was.”

Now her lips were trembling, and they were staring at each other like a pair of blushing idiots. Then again, weren’t they just that?

“Could I…”, it took all of Eren’s courage to ask the next question because he was still a coward, but all the memories and suffering he endured were for this, for this moment, and the girl in front of him. He had to push it out, he needed this ever since that moment in the fields with the smiling titan, the memory which Eren saw hundreds, if not thousands, times when he was stuck in the paths.

“Can I kiss you?”

Mikasa didn’t answer. Instead, she pushed forward until their lips met and Eren’s mind went blank. Objectively, the kiss sucked. It was their second and the first that happened while they were both fully alive. She was way too insistent and he was way too stunned by her reply to kiss her back.

It didn’t matter.

It was still the sweetest thing that ever happened to them, and when Mikasa pulled back Eren regretted the loss of her warmth immediately.

“I know that you are a new person, but can I still call you Eren?”, she whispered, her breath tickling his skin.

“You can call me whatever you want.”, was his immediate answer.

“Ok then…”, a tiny smile curved those lips that he dreamt of kissing so many times up, “Nice to meet you, Eren.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mikasa.”

This time it was him who closed the distance, hellbent on getting better at the whole kissing thing. She kissed him back and Eren held Mikasa in his arms and the world around didn’t matter anymore. Just her and him, finally getting the love that they fought for all their lives.

High above, the bird flapped its wings and disappeared into the distance.

[bloody-bee-tea]

BeeTober 2020 Day 7

Letter - Reunion

Day 7 of BeeTober comes with some heavy Nie Bro feels, mostly because da-ge wasn't as dead as NHS believed and a letter changes everything for both of them. 

When Nie Huaisang enters his office, Mo Xuanyu is waiting for him, worrying a letter in his hand.

“What’s wrong?” Nie Huaisang asks, as he sits down in his chair and Mo Xuanyu is strangely hesitant to answer him.

“What is that letter,” Nie Huaisang asks when Mo Xuanyu keeps turning it in his hands.

Mo Xuanyu reads all the letters addressed to Nie Huaisang before they actually reach Nie Huaisang, mostly because Nie Huaisang is too busy for that but also because Mo Xuanyu has an eye for important ones.

This one seems to be very important.

“I don’t know enough to judge the authenticity of this letter,” Mo Xuanyu starts with and he sounds reluctant to even admit that much.

“Why would you have to judge that?” Nie Huaisang asks but when he motions for Mo Xuanyu to hand him the letter, he refuses.

“I just don’t want to see you upset over this,” Mo Xuanyu whispers but before Nie Huaisang can scold him for that—there hasn’t been anything that can upset him ever since his brother died after all—Mo Xuanyu puts the letter on the table.

“It says it’s from Nie Mingjue,” Mo Xuanyu then tells him and Nie Huaisang is glad that he’s sitting down already.

He feels faint, a ringing in his ears, but then anger washes over him.

“How dare you?” he hisses at Mo Xuanyu who keeps his gaze steady.

“It seems real enough to me, but I don’t know enough about Nie Mingjue or his relationship with you to judge it. There is no one else I can ask so I am sorry that I have to hand this to you when it could possible be a fake letter, but I think you have to judge that for yourself.”

Nie Huaisang fights the urge to throw something at Mo Xuanyu, even though he’s aware that it’s not his fault. But his brother is dead and this is a joke in such bad taste that Nie Huaisang honestly lacks the words for it.

“Get out,” he finally presses out and Mo Xuanyu leaves without taking the cursed letter with him.

Nie Huaisang gets up and starts pacing his office. The office he only sits in because Nie Mingjue died eight years ago.

Nie Huaisang remembers the day very well; it’s the only day in the whole year where he allows himself to break down.

Nie Mingjue suffered a qi deviation so severe it robbed him of all his senses and Nie Huaisang has the scars to proof it too. His shoulder still aches when the weather gets cold.

Nie Huaisang kicks the leg of his desk; Nie Mingjue is dead. He flew away when Lan Xichen interrupted him before he could kill Nie Huaisang but there hasn’t been a sign of Nie Mingjue ever since and going by how severe the qi deviation was and how much Nie Mingjue had already been bleeding, there’s no chance that he survived.

There is simply no chance that Nie Mingjue is still alive, Nie Huaisang reminds himself again and again of that.

But the letter is like a beacon, tempting him to pick it up and check it for himself and Nie Huaisang is reaching for his lighter before he can even consciously decide to do so.

He’s going to burn this cursed letter and be done with it.

You’ll never be done with it if you don’t find out what it says, a tiny voice in Nie Huaisang says and he hates how right it is.

Well, at the very least Nie Huaisang will have to read the letter to find out who really wrote it and then he will come after their ass. No one can be allowed to use Nie Mingjue’s name like that. No one can play with Nie Huaisang’s feelings like this.

His hands shake when he reaches for the letter, and even once he picked it up it takes him an embarrassingly long time before he finds the strength to open it.

The handwriting seems painfully familiar—even after all these years—and Nie Huaisang closes it again.

He has to take several deep breaths before he manages to open it again.

Dear Huaisang, it reads and Nie Huaisang lets out a shuddering breath from just that. Tears are already pricking at his eyes, and he sits down, certain that he won’t make it through this standing.

Several possibilities are racing through his head; Nie Mingjue composed this letter before he died, he survived for a short time and made someone else write this letter or Nie Mingjue turned into a resentful spirit and could only be put to rest with this.

All of these possibilities hurt Nie Huaisang more than he can put into words.

Nie Huaisang worries his lower lip with his teeth until he tastes blood, and it’s only then that he can go on.

Dear Huaisang,

I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, and that is okay after everything I did to you, but I had to try at least once.

Let me start with saying how incredibly sorry I am. I swore to your mother that I would never let any harm come to you only for me to be the one to bring harm to you. I don’t remember everything from that last qi deviation, but I do remember that. It’s the only thing I could think about while I was in a coma. It’s been haunting my every moment and I know I can never make up for that, but I am sorry.

The hospital I was in didn’t expect me to wake up—and neither did I—so you can imagine their surprise when I suddenly opened my eyes. They are calling me a medical miracle and I am already so over that. I am still in rehabilitation but it seems like I’ll be able to live a somewhat normal life once I’m discharged. No cultivation for me anymore, of course, but I trust that you have Baxia handled.

The hospital informed me that they contacted you, but that you didn’t visit me and I can’t begrudge you that. I understand, Huaisang, and I am not holding that against you. I know what I did to you was unforgivable. Still, I had to at least try and reach out to you, but please don’t feel pressured. You can ignore this, if you should wish to do so. In case there is anything left you have to say to me my contact information is on the back.

I hope that despite what I destroyed, you’re living a good life.

Mingjue

P.S. Thank you for getting rid of Jin Guangyao.

Nie Huaisang is crying by the end of the letter, because it’s real. It has to be, there is no other way. Nie Mingjue survived and he thinks Nie Huaisang hates him.

Nie Huaisang never knew that it is possible to feel this happy and angry simultaneously.

He almost rips the letter in his haste to turn it around and true to Nie Mingjue’s words, his contact information is on the back.

There’s a phone number Nie Huaisang ignores for now—because this reunion is not happening through text or a call—and when his eyes fall on the city his brother now lives in, he blanches.

It’s not even a two hour drive; Nie Mingjue has been this close all those years and Nie Huaisang never even knew it. He can guess as to where it all went wrong; if Nie Mingjue was admitted to a hospital shortly after he flew off, Jin Guangyao was still in charge of taking phone calls for Nie Huaisang.

He must have been told about Nie Mingjue’s survival and then decided not to tell Nie Huaisang. He can probably count himself lucky that Jin Guangyao didn’t try to end what he started with the induced qi deviation.

Gods, Nie Huaisang really wishes he could kill Jin Guangyao again, right about now.

Nie Huaisang pushes those feelings aside for now, because it’s much more important that he finds his da-ge again.

Mo Xuanyu is always nagging at him to take a few days off; well, he’s getting his wish now.

~*~*~

Nie Mingjue doesn’t like to keep his phone out of his sight. He knows the chances that Nie Huaisang will contact him are slim to none, but there is still the tiny spark of hope, that makes sure Nie Mingjue keeps his phone at hand at all times.

The hospital discharged him two days ago and while Nie Mingjue can no longer move as fluidly or steadily as he used to, he’s more than able to live on his own.

He doesn’t enjoy it, misses Nie Huaisang’s chatter and clutter like crazy, but he can do it.

Nie Mingjue has kept tabs on Nie Huaisang ever since he woke up and he is so proud of his brother that he could probably never put it into words anyway.

Nie Huaisang didn’t only make sure that their parents company survived, he brought it to new highs. And of course—and this might be the best thing Nie Huaisang has ever done in his life—he got Jin Guangyao killed.

Nie Mingjue would have liked to do it himself, after everything Jin Guangyao did to him, but knowing that Nie Huaisang was the one to deal that blow is immensely satisfying.

Nie Mingjue can only imagine the surprise Jin Guangyao must have felt when he realized that it was Nie Huaisang all along and that alone is almost enough to carry him through every day.

Now if only his phone would ring.

Nie Mingjue shakes his head at that ridiculous thought, because Nie Huaisang is not likely to call or text him. Nie Mingjue knows he severed every last tie between them when he raised Baxia against his own brother and he’s not mad about that.

He understands.

Nie Mingjue just sat down on his couch—slowly and aching all over like he imagines an eighty-year-old must feel—when it knocks furiously at his door.

Nie Mingjue has half a mind to just ignore whoever it is on the other side, but when the knocking doesn’t stop he forces himself up again.

When he opens the door, a reprimanding ‘What’ already at the tip of his tongue, his breath leaves him like it was punched out of him.

And with how Nie Huaisang throws himself at Nie Mingjue it might as well have been.

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang cries and Nie Mingjue aches with how much pain there is in his voice.

“Huaisang,” he whispers, and it’s only then that he overcomes his surprise and crushes Nie Huaisang to his chest.

Well, it’s not so much crushes as gently presses, but it’s the best he can do now.

“You’re here,” Nie Mingjue says when Nie Huaisang simply continues to cry into his chest and it’s that that finally prompts Nie Huaisang to push away and look at Nie Mingjue.

Rationally, Nie Mingjue knows that eight years have passed and that Nie Huaisang aged and matured, but it’s still strange to see it in person.

“Of course I am here,” Nie Huaisang gives back and fresh tears are running down his cheeks. “How could you ever think I want nothing to do with you, I thought you were dead,” he wails and Nie Mingjue frowns, even though he is so happy he could cry himself.

“But you knew I was alive,” he says, his voice choked up and Nie Huaisang shakes his head, before he buries his face in Nie Mingjue’s chest again.

“Jin Guangyao must have taken that phone call. He never told me about it.”

Nie Mingjue freezes at those words.

“Do you mean that for the last eight years you thought I was dead?” he demands to know and when Nie Huaisang nods Nie Mingjue wishes he could kill Jin Guangyao with his own two hands.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and Nie Huaisang tightens his grip on him.

“Da-ge, I have missed you so much,” Nie Huaisang cries and Nie Mingjue puts his cheek on the top of his head.

He has grown, Nie Mingjue notes wistfully and then he closes his eyes and just enjoys having Nie Huaisang in his arms again.

“I am so sorry for hurting you,” Nie Mingjue says, even though he already said it in the letter.

It bears repeating, especially since some of the scars are still visible on Nie Huaisang’s neck.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Nie Huaisang immediately reassures him. “Jin Guangyao planned it all.”

“And still, I should have never raised Baxia against you,” Nie Mingjue insists and lets out a painful grunt when Nie Huaisang slaps his chest.

It would have been playful, once upon a time, but Nie Mingjue is weak now and it hurts more than he anticipated.

“I am so sorry,” Nie Huaisang breathes out and his hand shakes when he puts it onto the spot he just hit. “But it’s not your fault and I never blamed you, not for anything. I just—I am so happy that I have you back.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to wake up,” Nie Mingjue replies and his voice is more choked up than he would like.

“Are you coming home, da-ge?” Nie Huaisang asks suddenly, and he sounds scared of the answer, as if Nie Mingjue could ever tell him no.

“Of course I am,” he softly says. “As long as you want me there.”

“Now don’t be stupid,” Nie Huaisang pouts. “You have eight years of missed birthday presents to make up for.”

Nie Mingjue can’t even put into words how relieved he is that apparently not all things have changed, and that they can still banter like this.

“Only if you have been good,” Nie Mingjue gives back and pulls Nie Huaisang further into his apartment.

He’s not too sad to leave it behind.

“I took over the company, of course I have been good!” Nie Huaisang argues and Nie Mingjue laughs.

“You have been the best,” Nie Mingjue agrees, seemingly flustering Nie Huaisang with that and he laughs again, more freely than he ever has since he woke up.

He knows his life will be different with his injuries now, but if Nie Huaisang is willing to still be at his side, then Nie Mingjue can’t mind it that much.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[hale-13]

Caliber

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 12 - Death

Peter grew up like most American kids running active shooter drills thinking (hoping) it would never happen to him.

Words: 2338, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Teen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, Tony Stark, Various Midtown Students and Faculty

TW: TW: Gun Violence, Blood, Major Character Injury, Possible MCD (if you choose to interpret it that way)

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

Growing up, Peter spent his early childhood in lower level genetics labs with his parents. Part of this was simply because they worked some weird hours at OsCorp but the other part was definitely because they recognized his intelligence and talent early and would give him easy experiments to run while they worked. Safe? Eh, maybe not but Peter had fun.

Well, until they died that is.

After that Peter would spend his time in the hospital daycare or nurse’s break room or sitting at Ben’s desk in the bullpen at the precinct where he worked. Daycare and babysitters were expensive and Peter was having a little separation anxiety from becoming an orphan at six. Peter accredits this formative time in his life to why he has a healthy respect of first responders, why he goes out every night in spandex to help his neighborhood (even if the cops hate him).

After the funeral, after May and Ben went back to work and started taking Peter with them, Ben sat Peter down to go over basic gun safety with him. He can remember that initial conversation pretty vividly: Ben had sat Peter down on the couch and had pulled out his unloaded side arm and the small safe he stored it in. He told Peter just how dangerous weapons could be in untrained hands, how Peter could easily hurt himself or others if he ever touched it, how Ben would always have it locked up but, on the off chance it wasn’t, Peter was to never touch it.

Peter had readily agreed and had steered clear of Ben’s belt and the gun safe next to his side of the bed his whole childhood.

The officers that Ben worked with were, for the most part, super nice to Peter and always took time out of their days to talk to him, bring him snacks and (attempt) to help him with his homework and Peter grew to be the most comfortable in the loud bullpen or the adjacent break room. The summer before he started his freshman year at Midtown, Ben and some of the other officers had given Peter a crash course in gun safety – how to clean, care and shoot a weapon – and it only took one trip to dash Peter’s dreams of working in law enforcement; he never wanted to handle a gun again.

Holding his uncle’s body as he bled out a few months later from the massive hole left in his back by the .45 caliber handgun only solidified that decision.

Luckily, in his tenure as Spider-Man, Peter tended to run into more sub-Ultron and Chitauri fare than the classic handguns and rifles he was familiar with which suited him just fine. When he did come across a run of the mill mugger or rapist who was using a pistol or something similar, Peter took great pleasure in using his super strength to rip it into tiny pieces – destroyed beyond repair and off the streets for good.

This had resulted in some unfortunate bullet grazes and full-on holes in his body that had prompted his helicopter mentor (under the order of Aunt May of course) to force him through another gun safety lecture, complete with a practical portion where Colonel Rhodes assisted in teaching Peter how to properly disarm and disassemble a variety of different sidearms. It was definitely cool to spend time with Actual War Machine but Peter rushed through it as quickly and throughly as possible. He never wanted to have the easy comfort with weapons that Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes had – he preferred non-lethal disarmament when patrolling.

All this said – Peter probably had more experience and knowledge with various weapons (human and otherwise) than he had any right to.

All of this experience, all of his time as Spider-Man, everything he had been through did nothing to help keep him calm and collected when his principal came over the intercom while Peter was in gym class to announce a code red shelter in place order. Like most high schoolers in America, Peter had gone through numerous school safety drills so he, in theory, knew what to do in a emergency.

In practice? Not so much.

Coach Wilson had looked just as pale and stunned as the class but had recovered quickly enough to rush the doors. A few other students had also started moving to gather some of the wrestling mats to roll in front of the doors once Coach Wilson had gotten them closed and locked.

He, unfortunately, wasn’t quick enough.

Brian Anderson, a sophomore Peter recognized from the debate team, forced the door open, brandishing the small revolver in a shaky hand. His face was pale, eyes red rimmed with tears with such a desolate look it made Peter’s own heart clench in sympathy despite his rapid heart-rate.

“Back up,” he whispered, using the gun to gesture for the coach to step away and the man obliged; holding his hands up in surrender and slowly backing away from the door. Some of Peter’s classmates, including Ned who, for once, wasn’t right at Peter’s side in class but across the room from him, had started to cry. Michelle, looking stony faced but terrified underneath it all, was trying to shush Betty Brant who was in the middle of a full blown panic attack and trying not to draw attention to herself.

“Okay,” Coach Wilson said, motioning the class members closest to him to back up with one raised hand, his eyes never leaving the weapon. “You’re calling the shots here Brian.”

Brian sniffled, fresh tears spilling over his eyes and hand trembling as he surveyed the room, eventually moving the barrel to point at Mark Conley, one of Flash’s friends and a notorious online bully. Both boys had gone nearly ghost white and the class seemed to be holding its collective breath.

“Sorry Ben,” Peter thought. “Sorry Mr. Stark.”

“Brian,” he called out, voice sounding much more steady than he predicted it would since he was just Peter Parker right now and not Spider-Man. “You don’t want to do this man.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Brian spit out, anger over-ruling all of his other feelings and his eyes landing on Peter. “You don’t know what I want to do!”

“I promise you don’t want to do this,” Peter said calmly. “I know what they’re like. You think they treat me any better than you? You’ll regret this if you do it.”

Brian snorted out a dry laugh, not looking like he found anything remotely funny. “Then you should want me to do this.” He said, cherry picking Peter’s words.

“But I don’t,” Peter told him, edging closer to the other boy, making sure to put his body in front of Mark as he moved closer. “Do you know how my uncle died?” Brian, eyes locked with Peter’s, shook his head nearly imperceptibly. “He was shot by some guy robbing a bodega. He bled out in my arms before emergency services could arrive.” Peter said bluntly, doing the best to ignore how his heart clenched and his eyes burned.

The barrel of Brian’s gun dipped down to point more toward the floor and Peter took a few cautious steps forward, stopping when he was only about five feet away. “They won’t stop,” Brian whispered, the tears flowing heavier but his finger still in place over the trigger. “It just keeps getting worse and I can’t take it. I can’t do this anymore!”

“I know,” Peter said, voice soft, dropping his hands down to rest loosely at his sides. He really wishes he had his web-shooters, secret identity be damned. He was never taking them off again, no matter what May tried to tell him about work/life balance. “I know what its like and it sucks but they aren’t worth throwing your whole life away. It’s not worth hurting all the innocent people you’ll hurt. You don’t want to do that to your friends and family.”

“I don’t have any friends!” Brian said loudly, raising the gun back up to point at Peter but Peter didn’t move from his relaxed position even though he felt his heart speed up to a gallop. He faced possible injury and death at least once a week but that was always as Spider-Man… never as Peter Parker.

“I’m your friend,” Peter told him, a little desperate but honest. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” Brian gasped and let the pistol drop to his side in a loose grip. “Just hand me the gun Brian okay? And then we can talk about it, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Brian sniffed and rubbed his free hand over his face to wipe away the tears rolling down his cheeks. “Do you promise?”

“I promise,” Peter confirmed, holding out his hand. Brian nodded and lifted his hand to pass Peter the gun when everything went wrong. Betty, who had been hyperventilating through the entire exchange, finally passed out. MJ tried to catch her but the two of them hit the floor with a echoing bang that startled the whole class. Brian, gun lifted and finger still on the trigger, flinched and jerked to aim back at Mark, shooting.

Everything happened in slow motion for Peter and he grimaced at what he was about to do, saying mental apologies and throwing his body in the path of the bullet, jerking back at the feeling of it hitting him in the chest.

His breath knocked out and his consciousness already becoming more nebulous from the pain that was blooming in his lungs, Peter stumbled forward to yank the gun from Brian’s limp grasp, deftly unloading it with the last of his strength and with shaking hands before throwing the rounds to the opposite side of the gym; collapsing at the other boys feet.

“Oh god,” Brian whispered in horror. “Oh god Peter. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” He tried to bend down next to Peter but was swiftly tackled by Abe and Jason where he was wrestled onto his front with them restraining his hands without a fight beyond his gulping sobs.

“You’re alright Parker,” Coach Wilson said soothingly as he rolled Peter onto his back and used his own hastily shed jacket to apply pressure to the steadily bleeding hole in Peter’s chest, causing him to grunt and squeeze his eyes shut in pain. “Thompson! Call 911 and tell them we have the shooter and we need emergency services in the gym. Conley run up to the office and tell Morita what happened!” Both boys jumped into action but Peter ignored it in favor of unsteadily pulling his own phone out of his pocket and sliding it to Ned who had joined the group along with a pale and teary Michelle.

“Call Tony,” Peter coughed out, blood staining his lips and leaked down the side of his face. “No hospital.”

Ned, shaking and crying worse than Peter had ever seen fumbled the phone with numb hands before giving up and pressing the panic button on the side of the phone. Feeling relieved that his mentor was on the way, Peter let his tired eyes close only to rip them open at the flick on his nose.

“It’s not nap time Tiger,” MJ told him, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t want to get detention again.”

“I think…” Peter gasped out, his lungs aching with the strain. “Think this… get me… a permanent… ‘get out of detention’… free card.”

Michelle ran soft fingers through his hair, helping him relax his clenching muscles. He could tell that Ned was on the phone and speaking in rapid, broken sentences. He could kind of hear the sirens approaching, the sound of the building evacuating, crying students. But nothing mattered as much as Michelle. “You just couldn’t help yourself huh?”

“You know… me,” Peter grunted, trying for a grin that didn’t show the tacky blood he was sure was staining his teeth. “No guts… no glory.”

“God you’re a disaster,” MJ said with a watery laugh, a single tear escaping to race down her cheek. Peter wanted nothing more than to reach out and wipe it away but his arms were made of lead.

Before Peter could work up the energy to respond, the doors of the gym were blown off the hinges by repulsers as Tony rushed the room, suited up in his full armor and clearly panicked. “Peter!” He shouted as he stumbled out of the suit, falling to his knees next to Peter and hastily began applying his prototype nanotech bandage to the hole in Peter’s chest before rolling him on his side to repeat the process with his back.

Peter gagged at the change in position, his eyesight fading out to a pinprick of light and his hearing glitching out. The voices around him became ever more harried but Peter couldn’t make out what they were trying to say – all he knew was he was really tired. More tired than he had ever been maybe. Surely no one would mind if he took a little nap?

“Stay with me buddy,” he heard Mr. Stark say as cold, hard arms gripped under his back and knees, lifting him and causing him to nearly black out again. “Just a quick little flight to the Tower Petey,” Tony said, voice wavering and not its usual strong timbre. “Just hang with me for a few more minutes and then you can nap okay kiddo?”

“Tired,” Peter gasped out, chest seizing. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” Tony ordered, frantic and yelling over the wind buffeting them. When had they started flying? “Just stay awake.”

“Love May,” Peter whispered, his vision a kaleidoscope of shapes and colors that were rapidly fading. “Love you.”

“Peter!” Tony sounded so far away, Peter thought as his eyes closed against the colors and shapes and lights that were making him feel dizzy and sick.

Just a little nap.

No one would notice.

[hoodassnerd]

Butterflies

Genre: Erik x oc

Words: a lot (I’m so sorry)

Summary: Joanna is a thug at heart but maybe not all the way through

BEEP BEEP BEEP be-

Erik shut off the alarm and look at the girl in his bed.

‘Seven? Sheela? Something with a s? I don’t fuckin know, she gotta get the fuck up tho’

Erik poked her in the back “Aye shawty, you gotta get up. “ she grunted and readjusted to get comfortable. Erik sighs, “AYO!” He shouted. She jumped up from her spot “What! It’s mad early!” “Exactly, that why you need to getcho ass up. I gotta work and I don’t know you like that so you gotta step” he said getting out of the bed.

She looked at him disappointed “Damn you really just gon kick me out like that?” She asked him. “Yea. Bye Keisha.” Erik walked into the bathroom closing the door. “MY NAME IS TIFFANY!” “Whatever the fuck it is, you gotta go” he said. Erik turned on the water ignoring whatever she was yelling at him and got in the shower so he could start his day.

Around 2:37 pm Joanna Brown woke up from her damn good dream about cheesecake and Captain America. “Shit!” She said as she finished her stretched. A good stretch. The one that makes you shake. “I should have called off today. I hate having to use my customer service voice to all them ugly ass men.” She said to herself. Jo worked at footlocker at the front register. She only kept the job because she was a sneaker head. Jo was very self conscious about her body but the men at her job didn’t give a damn about her feelings because her was shaped like the number 8. Even thought she had many customer complaints, they weren’t gonna fire her. She was the reason for half of their customers.

Jo turned on her music phone and connected it to her tv. “Rob the jewelry sto’ tell ‘em make me a grill”. Joanna milly rocked her way into the bathroom and started her showers he tied up her silver bundles and got in the water.

About 30 seconds later her primary phone rang. She looked at the screen and saw Erik’s name and the ugliest scared face you’ve ever seen. Tapping the screen she picked up the phone and started singing the song. “Got 30 down at the bottom 30 mo’ at the top, all invisible set with little ice cube blocks. If I could call it a dri-“ “I didn’t call you to hear yo fine ass sing nelly in my face” Erik said into the phone. Jo looked offended “So why dafuq did you call me?” “I called you to see if y’all got the new 11’s that just came out.” Jo looked into the phone “nigga I just got in the shower! I don’t even know if the sun is still yellow yet! And stop calling me pretty, you know I don’t like you”

Ever since they were in high school, Erik was sweet on Jo. She transferred from New York during their sophomore year. They eventually became friends after she fist fought the quarterback because he wouldn’t leave her alone. Even though they didn’t have any classes together he would always make sure that he saw her when she was at school. Erik liked Jo and was determined to get her to like him back. He would always compliment her and try to make her feel good about her self but Jo didn’t see it like that. Jo was a hood nigga, so she didn’t really want attention from men. Unless she needed some dick.

“Let me finish washing my ass first. I’ll hit you when I’m at work to let you know if we got em’” Erik smiled showing his caps “Thank you lil’ mama. Let me see ya titties” Jo hung up the phone “Bitch I am not showing you my titties” she said as she put the it back down. Willow Smiths - Wait a minute started to play on her tv “Oh this my shit!” She shouted as she turned up the volume.

‘Wait a minute! I think I left my conscience on your front door step! Woo-oo Woo-oo, Wait a minute I think I let my consciousness in the sixth dimension. But I’m here right now, right now”

Jo got in her navy blue 67’ impala that was given to her by her uncle. She started the car and the radio came on ‘FUCK A FLASH THIS AINT SNAPCHAT! CUZ IVE BEEN GETTIN’ PAID, YELLOW DIAMOND-‘. Jo jumped so high she hit her head on the roof of the car “Ow fuck! Shit” she said turning down the volume and rubbing her head. “Let me turn this shit down. I’m not the Same nigga from last night”

Pulling into the parking lot at the mall she looked at the time on her phone 4:02 ‘shiiiiiiiieeeeeeedddddd I still got 30 minutes’ she thought.

‘ when I get up all in ya’ and we can hear the angels callin us, and we can see the sunrise before us and when I’m in that thang, I make that body sang I make her say🚨🚨🚨’

“nigga this my shit!!” She said turning the up volume. The song turned down and switched to big gangster by Kevin gates. “Scuse me bitch... oh. What you want nigga!” She said to Erik as she got out the car. “Why yo thick ass just getting out the car?” He said staring directly at her . Jo stopped and looked around ‘Did this nigga wait here for me?’ “what kinda stalker shit is you on bruh?” She hung up the phone when she saw him. “Chill lil mama. I’m just trying to make sure my future wife got to work safe.” “Where she at?” Jo said confused. Erik sucked his teeth “Girl stop playin, you know it’s you. Wicho sexy ass, ooooh girl I’d love to see all that ass in a sundress.” He said licking his lips.

“Boy if you don’t get yo ass on somewhere. I wouldn’t dare marry yo ass. All the bitches you be fucking I don’t know where to dick been, nigga” she said grabbing her work bag out her backseat. “Why you ain’t take yo ass in the store? Everybody in there fuck wichu, they would have gave you a discount if you would have asked. Renee prolly would’ve gave you them shits for free, she in love wicho bum ass.” She said reaching for the door. Erik slapped her hand away from the handle. “Why you always do that like I can’t open the door” she said walking pass him. “When a man is present a women shouldn’t touch doorknobs or handles.” He said staring at her ass. “Mmmmhmmmm. Whatever nigga”

“Hi, welcome to footlocker! If you need anything just let me know!” Jo said in her customer service voice. “Fake ass” Erik said walking passed the counter. “Shut up and getcho shoes nigga!” She said back.

As Jo was reluctantly helping Erik, like the good employee she was, the door buzzer went off “Hi welcome to foo- Fuck. Welcome to footlocker if you need help please don’t ask me. “ Erik turned around and saw three men walk in the store and smirk at Jo. One was tall, about 6’4, light skin with a fucked up gumby haircut. The second one was shorter, kinda looked like Boosie with dreads. The third one looked like Dave east.....but dirty.

“Who dat?” He asked watching them walk around the store “Remember I told you about that nigga that keep coming in here bothering me but I can’t do shit cuz he buy ten pair of shoes?” He nodded “That’s his ugly ass. The dinghy one. He get on my fucking nerves. This nigga smoke boggies and think it’s ok to talk directly in my face like boy get the fuck on” she said scanning eriks shoes while he was laughing his ass off “This shit not funny bruh like, I told him I had a boyfriend but he won’t leave me the fuck alone”. Erik looked at her inquisitively “Did you describe ya so called boyfriend” he said putting quotes around boyfriend. She shook her head no. “Bet” he said. “Aye bro where you going?”

Erik walked over to the shoe display and picked up the cement grey 4’s “lil mama, y’all got these in a 12!” He asked. Jo looked up from the register to see Erik across the store “

What’s those?” “Come here and see” she rolled her eyes and put his other shoes under the counter and jogged over. “Oh the cements, let me check in the back” noticing the ‘Dave east’ looking at Jo, Erik slid his hand on her hip as she talked. She looked at him sideways like he was crazy. He lifted his brows as to say ‘play along’ Jo gave him a stink face but nodded slightly “Gimme a kiss ma” “no I’m at work” “you so mean to me” he said pouting.

Jo rolled her eyes and walked to the back room. “Aye bro. Why you pushing up on ole girl like that?” Erik turned around to see ‘Dave east’ looking like he wanted to fight. “And who the fuck is you to be asking about my girl?” He said as he squared his shoulders. ‘Dave east’ backed up a little “oh shit bro my bad I didn’t know that shorty was yours.” Erik clenched his jaw a little “ stop staring at my girl. And If she tell me you keep harassing her imma beat the shit outchu” Erik said slightly walking toward him. ‘Dave east’ turned around and walked away. “All we got is 11 and 13. “ Erik looked at jo “that’s fine mamas, I got some already. Thank you tho” jo looked at him “ so you telling me that you made me walk all the way ova he fah some shoes you already got? You deadass? Your total is $557.82” Erik smirked at her “I can’t get a thank you?” “Fah what?” Erik smiled real big “you see ya mans?” Jo looked around “what you say to him?” She said as her eyes lit up “I told him to stop talking to you and he left” jo raised an eyebrow “I know you lying but thank you” she held her hand out, Erik looked her up and down “ what?” He asked “give me yo money, hoe” jo said with an attitude. Erik sucked his teeth and gave her his card. “Declined” “WHAT!” “I’m just fucking witchu. Enjoy your day, sir!” “You play to fucking much” Erik mumbled as he walked out the store.

[stillbandofbrothersthirsty]

As Far As Friends Go

Chapter 25 (Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; ... Chapter 24)

Hi all! I just realised this is the second to last chapter of As Far As Friends Go, so I wanted to take a moment to say thank you to anyone who has read and followed this story. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Your support and encouragement means so much! xx Em

Winters - April 1945

A new page had turned in the war and Dick Winters was beginning to look to the next step. The Allies’ proximity to victory had became more apparent with Hitler’s death that April. Although his work was far from done in Europe, the further they moved into Germany the more Winters sensed things were changing. Generally, the mood among his men had shifted. Now the Major was more concerned with containing his men’s fraternization rather than protecting them from artillery fire. A happy problem to have, he thought, yet his pragmatic nature suspected they weren’t done being tested. Violence was still raging at full force in the Pacific and little did they know what awaited them in the depths of the Rhineland.

Winters suspicions were validated. Their trucks had passed through green plains peppered with picturesque farms tended to by attractive Bavarian women. From the state of the locals homes and resources there was no anticipating what the soldiers of Easy Company would find in Landsberg.

There are no words to adequately characterize the level of depravity indulged in by the Nazi’s who orchestrated the imprisonment, abuse, and murder of other human beings.

Winters was determined to witness the Kaufering concentration camp in its entirety; at the very least to acknowledge the savagery the victims and survivors were forced to endure. And so he stood helmet under arm, gripping his wrist in an effort to maintain his composure as a boxcar was opened to reveal one of many informal mass graves.

Until Landsberg, Winters had been comfortable in the knowledge that he was fighting on principle to defend his nation and it’s allies. It was humbling to realize there had been a greater war of morality going on. Winters couldn’t help but wonder what - or who - could have been saved if only they hadn’t been ignorant.

But it wasn’t in Winters nature to dwell on regret for long. Regret only robbed the present of action. The Allied Intelligence operation was industriously collecting information on camps across Eastern Europe. There was more work than ever as people, communities, and nations across the continent began to recover.

A knock sounded on the doorframe leading into Winters’ temporary command post,  “Major Winters,” Emily poked her head into his office.

Winters looked up from the report he was reading, “Emily, come on in.”

“Hi,” she smiled timidly. Though they got along splendidly when off duty, a somewhat awkward formality settled between them when discussing work matters. Winters preferred it this way and he appreciated Emily’s deference to decorum.

“Am I disturbing you?” she asked.

“No,” Winters sighed, “I’m not accomplishing anything,” his face twisted in distaste. He dropped the report he was looking at unceremoniously on his desk. “It’s late, I hope you’re not still working.”

“All done,” Emily smiled and dropped a manila folder into his inbox, “I was going to wait to drop this off in the morning but I ran into Marwa earlier. She thought you might be hungry and wanted me to give you this,” she tossed Winters an apple. Winters felt an unexpected pang of disappointment. He wouldn’t have minded if Marwa dropped off the apple.

“Thanks, that was nice of Nurse Gamal. And you,” he said as an after thought.

Emily shrugged, “I’m just the delivery woman.”

“Please tell me this isn’t anything pressing,” Winters gestured to the report she had dropped off.

Emily laughed, “don’t worry, nothing that needs immediate attention.”

“Good,” Winters relaxed back in his seat. “So you and Nix,” he asked. He couldn’t resist the little smile that twisted at his lips, “you both seem happier lately.”

“Yeah,” Emily blushed, “things are as good as they can be. Ya know,” she gestured, “all things considering."

“So Nix told ya then?” Winters bit into the apple.

“About the camp?” Emily’s tone changed, “yeah, that was terrible. I can’t believe how many there are. We’ve been trying to map them as the information becomes available.”

Winters nodded, “great, I was speaking more on a personal level,” he gestured between Emily and imaginary figure of Nixon, “between you and Lew.”

“Oh, on a personal level? Told me?” Emily looked confused.

Winters’ chewing slowed as it dawned on him what he may have just revealed. “Uh, about Kathy?”
 Emily cocked her head, questioning. Well, Winters thought, he may as well just say it at this point, “she’s leaving him.”

Emily’s mouth dropped in shock but she quickly composed herself. “Oh,” her voice was a higher pitch than it was before, “that’s got to be tough for the kids.”

Winters had to keep himself from chuckling. This was why he liked Emily; it was poised answer that was respectful but genuine. Winters was no proponent for adultery but in this case, he was able to grant some grace. He was never a fan of Kathy not because she was a bad person but simply because he didn’t get along with her. And, based off of Winters own personal observations, neither did Nix.

Kathy played the games of society, something that Emily seemed to consciously reject which was much more on par with Nixon’s irreverent nature. Sometimes Winters worried that Emily and Nixon were far too alike. Sure, things were good now but their similar personalities were bound to get them into trouble again. Yet, Winters was glad his friend had found someone who understood him completely and honestly.

“Well, if you’re finished up here we’re going to have a drink as a sort of send off for Marwa if you want to join us,” Emily interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh, I, uh,” Winters hesitated.

“I mean, Lew and I are going to have a drink. Marwa doesn’t drink either,” Emily winked at him.

“Oh,” Winters felt inexplicably rattled. He was momentarily overwhelmed by the news of Marwa leaving and Emily’s conspiratorial gesture. “Yeah,” he stood so abruptly his chair nearly tipped back behind him, “sure, why not.”

Winters followed Emily downstairs to a room in the manor in which their friends were posted up. Harry Welsh and Marwa were chatting animatedly on a worn out red settee in the corner as Nixon stared pensively into a clear glass of schnapps. Winters watched as he took a sip and grimaced. Good, Winters thought to himself, maybe he’ll hate the stuff so much he’ll be forced to quit it.

Winters took a seat next to his friend, “how you doing, Nix?”

Nixon looked up as if surprised at his friends presence, “good, good.”

Winters smiled, “you seem good.”

Winters didn’t miss the smile Nixon suppressed. He could tell his friend was on the verge of saying something so he remained silent.

“I want to ask Emily to marry me when all this business with Kathy is settled.”

A little half-smile played at Winters mouth, “that’s great, Nix.”

Nixon hesitated, “but what if we fight again Dick?” There was a new sort of vulnerability in his voice. “Well, you probably will,” Winters said.

Nixon’s fingers danced around the rim of his glass, “I mean- I mean really fight. What if she doesn’t want to speak to me again.”

Winters paused, considering his friends words, “look, I’ve never been married, but I think you decide either you’re in or you’re out. And, if you decide you’re in then you commit.”

There was a fearful sort of hope in Nixon’s eyes. “So yeah you’ll fight,” Winters continued, “but if you’re committed to working it out you eventually will.”

Nixon nodded slowly, “thanks, Dick.” He threw back the rest of his drink, “you’ll be my best man, of course?”

Winters chuckled, “why don’t you get the bride on board first.”

The friends sat in companionable silence. They watched their friends lounge about the room chatting; their smiles made it almost unbelievable that war had ever touched them. Winters’ eyes lingered on Marwa who was perched on the arm of a couch laughing at something Harry had said. Winters noticed how shiny her black hair was and how bright her smile looked against her toasted skin. She wore a slightly outdated gray two-piece; she insisted that it was inappropriate to socialize while in uniform. Winters admired this attitude greatly. He had grown to admire a lot of things about the seasoned nurse since Bastogne.

Beside him Nixon cleared his throat, “anything going on with you?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

Winters eyes jerked away from Marwa guiltily, “what? No,” he answered quickly.

Nixon smiled and nodded, “she’s a hell of a woman.” He was saying it for Winters benefit, but his eyes were on Emily.

Winters nodded in agreement, “she sure is,” he looked back at Marwa.

[you-imagine-i-write]

Love Is Blind

Long time no see, family! Lockdown has finally prompted me to write an imagine, and boy is it a long one. I hope you enjoy and that everyone is staying safe in such difficult times xx

Summary: OUAT Peter Pan x Reader. Due to a curse many years ago, you were left blind, but Peter saw potential in you and brought you to Neverland, where you fell in love with the magical world, the Lost Boys, and most importantly Peter Pan himself. When the camp is attacked and you're injured, long held feelings come to light, and true love may change you forever.

Word Count: 2,416 words

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Birds chirped and the sun shone down on a new day in Neverland as you stepped out of your tent, arms stretched out as you yawned and tried to shake away the last of your tiredness.

“Morning, Y/N,” a chorus of Lost boys called out to you.

“Good morning, Neverland. Good morning, Lost Boys,” you beamed, in an excellent mood and overjoyed to be around family.

As you left your tent in search of Peter, you heard the Lost Boys moving around you, moving various items out of your path as you wandered around the camp whistling a jolly tune. When you heard a Lost Boy, you reached out a gentle hand to brush their arm or face in greeting, always grateful to them for letting you feel so close to them with your soft touch. Everything was black, but you’d spent so long running your fingers around the various trees and tents and such that you had an approximate picture of what Pan’s camp looked like in your head. As for the Lost Boys, you took such joy in running your fingertips across their faces to get to know the intricacies of them, and they were always happy to indulge you, so it was almost as if you could see them too. Peter didn’t often let you do the same, something about it being unprofessional in front of his boys, so you didn’t know his face as well, but you had dreamed about the boy so many times that you’d started to build an approximate picture in your head. Plus, on days where Pan was feeling particularly generous or flirty, he would let you cop a little feel that was always the highlight of your week, considering how beautiful you guessed the boy to be.

You hadn’t been blind forever but, due to a heinous crime committed by your father, you had been cursed by a witch many years ago. So, you were already blind when Peter recruited you into his ranks, bringing you to Neverland. Still, he must have seen something in you, and maybe it was the same thing you felt in him. You’d always been drawn to Peter, for as long as you could remember, and over the years your feelings only grew for the boy who had saved you from a lifetime of darkness. You’d never been able to tell him though, simply trying to enjoy every flirtatious joke and shared moment, knowing that your lack of fighting and survival skills meant you could never be truly loved by someone as amazing as Peter Pan.   

To find him, you simply followed the sound of his pipes, a beautiful sound that you guessed was almost as beautiful as him.

“Today is a good day, you know why?” you called out happily when you were close enough to the noise to know Peter could hear you, and the pipes grew quiet.

“You’re finally going to go skinny dipping with me?” Peter called back cheekily.

“In your dreams,” you laughed, before rubbing your hands together excitedly. “Today is the day I'm going to convince you to teach me how to fight.”

“Y/N-” Peter groaned.

You interrupted him quickly before he could protest, groaning, “Don’t hit me with the speech again; blah blah it’s too dangerous, I don’t want you to get hurt blah. I wish I’d been cursed with deafness instead.”

“Be quiet,” Peter hissed.

“Don’t you dare tell me to be quiet, Peter Pan,” you snapped indignantly.

Then, you heard the first gun fire.

The sounds of running footsteps filled your ears as you heard another Lost Boy approach and it was Felix that called out, “Pan, pirates are attacking!”

“Take Y/N to her tent and make sure she stays there,” Pan ordered sharply, already preparing to throw himself into battle as the noises of chaos begun to grow around them.

“No, I want to help,” you cried as you felt Felix begin to gently drag you away as the sound of Lost Boys fighting around you continued to grow, weapons clanging, screams and grunts of exertion that made your blood run cold.

“Keep her safe, Felix; I’m counting on you,” Peter growled, his voice getting further away, and you reached towards the sound of it desperately.

You felt the temperature change as you returned to the familiar space of your tent and the noises of fighting grew quieter, that was until you heard another set of footsteps approaching.

“Stay right here,” Felix ordered, before you heard him exit the tent, followed by sounds of grunting and weapons clanging.

“Felix? Felix! What’s happening?” you cried out desperately when the noise grew quiet, but your friend hadn’t returned, “Are you okay?”

“Oh look, it’s Pan’s blind little pet,” chuckled a voice that you didn’t recognise, grating and cruel; a pirate.  

Felix wasn’t responding, and unbeknownst to you he was slumped unconscious at the entrance of the tent. As fear began to shake your body, you tried to shove it aside and prove to Peter the strength and determination inside you.  

“I’m not a pet, I’m Pan’s- I'm important to him,” you yelled indignantly, trying to focus your mind to pinpoint the location of the enemy.

“A funny joke.” The pirate laughed cruelly, spitting his harsh words at you, “You’re nothing, you could never fight side by side with him, with any of them. I'm sure they see you as nothing more than a weak nuisance.”

You did your best to ignore the words, but they were ones you knew too well. They echoed in your head on the daily as you worried about your place in Neverland, your curse robbing you of the chance to be independent, to stand side by side with your Lost Boys through Hell and fire.

“That’s not true,” you cried, bringing yourself to your feet to stand against your enemy without fear, even if it was the last thing you did, “I would protect these boys with my life.”

“Protect them? You can’t even protect yourself,” the pirate hissed and then he was moving, too quickly for you to reel back from.

You felt his knife pierce you, eliciting a gasp at the pain as blood began to flow from your wound. The pirate laughed again, filling you with an overwhelming rage. You would not let this man hurt your family, and boy had he made a mistake; now you had a weapon.

You pulled the knife from your stomach in one fluid movement, ignoring the overwhelming pain as you threw yourself towards the place you’d last heard the pirate’s voice without a second of hesitation. A scream of anger ripped its way out of your throat as you brought the knife down with all the strength you had left, again and again until you felt the tear of flesh and heard the man fall to the floor.

The pain was unimaginable, and you allowed yourself to fall to the ground, hoping your sacrifice would be enough. You heard the sound of groans and footsteps, but had no strength left to fight with. You could feel your blood leaving your body, running over your hands before you could stop it, and your only regret was that you could not spend your final moments with Peter. If only you’d have told him how grateful you were for the life he had given you, and the feelings you had for him that kept you strong and happy. But now it may be too late, and in that moment you loved him even more.   

“Get Pan, NOW!” Felix’s voice yelled, full of anguish, and you almost fainted in relief (or maybe from blood loss).

He must have regained consciousness, and you felt the familiar grip of his hands on you as Felix took you into his arms, putting painful yet necessary pressure on your wound.

"What’s going on?” you groaned, desperately reaching out for Felix’s face for reassurance; you didn’t want to be alone in the cold and the dark.

“You killed him, Y/N, but he got you,” Felix crooned, placing one of his hands over your own gently as he cradled you.

The relief and pride over Felix’s words filled you, returning some of your strength and your smile, but it was nothing compared to hearing the next voice that entered the tent.

“Y/N! I’m here.”

Peter had arrived, and you could cry with joy. Despite the pain and Felix’s protests, you tried to drag yourself towards the sound of Peter’s voice. Before you could move very far, you were enveloped in Pan’s arms, surrounded by his familiar smell and feeling safe and warm.

“I killed him, Peter,” you cried with a mixture of joy and exhaustion. “He said I was nothing, but I actually killed him.”

“Well, I hope you didn’t listen to that pirate filth. To me, you’re everything,” Peter replied sharply, flooring you with the openness of his affection as you felt him brush the hair from your face.

His magic began to dance across your stomach, almost tickling you as you felt it begin to knit together your wound. The pain receded and you sighed in relief, still clutching onto Peter for comfort.

“Pan, I’m so sorry,” Felix began to stutter, obviously feeling guilty.

“No need, Felix,” Pan said smugly, sounding much happier than you’d expected as you could practically hear the grin on his face as he continued,  “Our Lost Girl has had the chance for her first blood, and we’re all very proud. And our little problem outside has been taken care of so you can go, Felix; I’ll get Y/N into bed.

You beamed with pride at his words, a small shriek of surprising leaving your mouth as Pan scooped you up into his arms. You heard Felix leave as you were placed gently on your bed and you lay down with a sad sigh that you couldn’t shake as the pirate’s cruel voice continued to repeat in your head.

“He was right, I’m not good enough for you,” you mumbled. “I can’t fight, and I cause you boys so much hassle, hell, I can’t even see you.”

The bed dipped as Peter sat next to you, his voice gentler than you thought he could speak as he said, “Oh, Y/N, surely you don’t need eyes to see how much I love you.”

A gasp left your mouth before you could stop it. Was it the blood loss making you crazy? Or was the boy you’d been in love with for God knows how many years actually confessing his feelings for you. Hell, for a while, you didn’t even know if Pan could love.

“Do you really mean it?” you asked quietly.

“Of course.”

You sat up, following the silky sound of Peter’s voice, desperate to feel close to him as it was finally time to say the words you didn’t think you’d ever have the strength to admit, the words you thought you’d die without getting to say.

You found his face and cupped it in your hand, a wide smile spreading across your face as you said, “Peter, I don’t need to see you to know how much I love you.”

“I guess love really is blind,” Peter chuckled, and you loved the way his smile felt against your fingertips

“Shut up,” you giggled, your brush with death leaving you bold enough to do the thing you’d been dreaming of for so long.

You pulled Peter’s face to you and kissed him, and time seemed to freeze. Your pains and tiredness faded away, and everything was right with the world as you fell into the deep and loving kiss.

“You should always do that when you want me to shut up,” Peter laughed when you came up for air.

“That’ll be often then,” you said with a contented smile.

“That’s the plan. Now, close those beautiful eyes and go to sleep,” Peter instructed softly, and you loved to hear the deep affection for you that the boy held in his voice.

“You think my eyes are beautiful?” you asked shyly, trying to cast your memory back far enough to remember what your face looked like.

Peter laughed again, a joyful sound, as he ran a gentle hand over your cheek. “I think you are beautiful.”

                                                             ***

The camp was woken up the next morning by a piercing scream that sent the Lost Boys into a panic, grabbing their weapons and running in the direction of Y/N’s tent, where the scream originated. Before anyone could rush inside to check on you, you threw the flaps to your tent open with a wide dramatic flourish.

The Lost Boys stopped in their tracks at the beaming smile that filled up your face, the happiest they’d seen you in all your time in Neverland. Without a word, you threw yourself at Felix and he barely caught you in his arms as you began running your hands over his face extatically.

“Felix, it’s you,” Y/N beamed, before throwing herself into the next set of Lost Boy arms she could find and repeating the action with growing excitement, again and again with each boy as she took in all of the beautiful faces around her.

“I demand to know what’s going on,” Pan’s booming voice filled the confused group, and as you turned to face the voice you knew so well, your legs turned to jelly at the sight of his face.

Peter was beautiful, so beautiful. And the concern for you on his face made a bought of laughter burst from your mouth before you could stop it. Pan turned to you with indignation, but before he could reprimand you, you had thrown yourself into his arms.

You ran your fingers over his face longingly, trying to commit every delightful detail to memory. Obviously clocking something was up, Peter didn’t stop your searching fingers for a change, and tears sprung to your eyes as you were overwhelmed by the beauty of Neverland and the faces of the boys who meant so much to you.

“You did it,” you gasped as you stared into Peter’s eyes, and the loving way that he looked at you, and everything made sense, “your true love. I can see, Peter; I can see! Thank you, so much.”

You tried to pour all the gratitude you had for Peter into your words but knew you would never be able to. Thankfully, you had the rest of time to make it up to him.

[trensu]

crack tangled au that nobody asked for

i saw a pic of wang yibo with blond hair and decided that lan wangji needed to be rapunzel. idk what else to tell you guys. there’s literally no other reason this exists.

so lwj has lived in his tower for as long as he can remember. his father says he’s not allowed to leave it ever bc the outside is Dangerous. There’s all sorts of unsavory folk that want to take his magic blond hair and use it for Nefarious Purposes. 

lwj is not all that interested in going outside. he trusts and loves his father. his father only wants what’s best for him. the outside world sounds scary anyway. besides, his father gave him a friend a few years back in the form of a small, surprisingly intelligent lizard named huaisang so he’s not lonely. And his father brings him books and other things for his hobbies. he hopes his father visits again soon bc his guqin’s strings snapped and now he can’t play.

lwj would have lived his whole life quite content with his little huaisang in the tower. except one day someone crawled in through his window. a STRANGER found his tower!! a DANGEROUS STRANGER was in his tower for NEFARIOUS PURPOSES. Probably. His father warned him about these guys. so he does the sensible thing and whacks the STRANGER over the head with his stringless guqin.

he stares blankly at the unconscious stranger and then looks at huaisang. 

“what are we supposed to do with him now?” lwj murmurs to his little lizard. huaisang makes a little growly sound. lwj nods. “But I don’t think we have any rope.”

lwj decides to use his hair.

--

look, wwx is not having a great day. he got chased by royal guards after he and jc were caught trying to steal from rich ppl (hey, he and his brother and sister were orphans without a penny to their name!! and sure, jyl brings in some income playing nursemaid to a fairly well to-do family and he and his brother find odd jobs here and there, but thats hardly what you’d call stable income...so maybe sometimes they help themselves to extra gold from the lordly families like the Jins; nbd, right? it’s not like they’d even notice the loss and also they’re all Assholes so they deserve to get robbed) bc maybe, MAYBE jc had a point when he said they’d be overreaching trying to steal from the royal Lan family.

he eventually loses the guards which is good! but then he loses track of his brother, which was bad. and then he somehow acquired a Very Angry Horse that won’t stop following him which is weird. also mildly inconvenient but an angry horse is still a step up from angry guards. then there was this tower he climbs up, ignoring the angry horse’s whinnies.

and now? Now he’s slowly regaining consciousness and finding himself tied to a chair by golden rope...hey, wwx is up for some bondage every now and again but, like, he’s gotta go through all the kink negotiation and safeword confirmation and sort out all the consent stuff before he gives the go ahead. he’s pretty sure none of that has happened.  So this is the UN-fun type of bondage and...wait a minute...this isn’t rope...is this--?

“who are you and what are your Nefarious Plans for my hair?”

wwx looks up and sees the most beautiful face he’s ever seen in his entire life. if jc were here he’d be shouting up a storm, demanding they be freed this instant. jc is about 90% of wwx’s impulse control and 20% of his common sense (the other 80% of his common sense resides with jyl at all times for safekeeping). So instead of demanding to be released, wwx puts on his most charming smile and leans forward towards the prettiest man in the world who’s hovering not nearly close enough in his space.

“well, hello. you can call me your future husband and the only plans i have for your hair involve a bed, you, and--”

He really should have expected the next hit to the head.

--

as far as meet-cutes go...it could’ve gone worse.

--

“i can’t believe you’ve been stuck in that tower all your life. don’t you get bored??”

“No.”

“don’t you ever want to stretch your legs and enjoy the sunshine?? go for a swim maybe?”

“No.”

“well why are you making me take you to through this awful forest and go to the palace??”

“Huaisang.”

“umm...bless you?”

The pretty man known as lwj sighs. “No. Huaisang is my lizard. It’s not fair for him to stay cooped up with me all the time.”

The lizard perched on lwj’s shoulder wiggles its disconcerting little lizard hand at him and, like, smiles at him. can lizards smile? they shouldn’t. it looks creepy. lwj cups a hand over the little lizards head and whispers to wwx.

“he thinks he’s a dragon. i want him to see what a real dragon looks like so he can figure out for himself that he isn’t one.”

“oh, so that’s why you wanna go to the palace. yeah, i wish someone had told me before that they had a dragon guarding the royal coffers.”

lwj narrows his eyes suspiciously at him. “why.”

“uh, no reason,” wwx winces and discreetly tugs the burnt edges of his robes out of view.

an awkward silence lingers for a painfully long time. the Angry Horse makes a sound. wwx suspects that he’s laughing at him. wwx sighs. at least he gets to enjoy the view, he thinks as lwj marches confidently ahead and subsequently gets them all lost.

--

lwj was just trying to be nice. that’s all. he wanted his little lizard friend to be happy. that’s it. his life was just fine before that!

but in the course of 48 hours, he finds out huaisang really IS a dragon, and is actually the little brother of nie mingjue, the dragon that guards the royal coffers. he falls in love with a roguish, penniless thief whose smile outshines the sun and carries a heart as golden as lwj’s hair. Said thief is now being held hostage by the man he calls his father but is in reality Meng Yao, the lan’s royal adviser who kidnapped him as an infant in order to use his magical hair for Nefarious Purposes. Oh, and apparently lwj is the long lost lan prince.

...he knew he should’ve stayed in the tower.

--

lwj feels his lips quirk up slightly as wwx runs his fingers through his now very black, very shortly cropped hair. wwx beams at him.

“didn’t i say i was gonna be your husband?”

“Hm,” lwj gives a small nod. “but having a horse at the wedding is a surprise.”

“yeah well, apparently we’re a package deal bc he won’t quit following me.”

wen qing, the witch officiating their wedding, scoffs. “seriously?? you haven’t figured it out yet??”

she taps the horse angrily chewing at wwx’s robes and suddenly there’s a man in purple robes shouting at the top of his lungs.

“A WEEK. I’VE BEEN CURSED INTO A HORSE FOR A WEEK, WEI WUXIAN, YOU IDIOT. HOW GODDAMN STUPID ARE YOU THAT YOU DIDN’T REALIZE---”

“Oh, jiang cheng! you’re just in time for the wedding!!”

The shouting lost all coherency at that point. but that’s okay. lwj is very happy he finally left his tower anyway.

[bellshells]

Splitting Hairs ch. 6

Hello my lovlies! Thank you for bearing with me, but here is chapter six of Splitting Hairs! I’m really bloody loving writing this and I hope you’re enjoying it too. As always, any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. Enjoy! <3

Severus Snape x OC

Word count: 3289 Summary: Minerva and Severus decide to read the letter and are concerned about the contents. Severus decides to confront Valentine.  Warnings: Language, Alcohol, bit of the ol’ smut (fingering, orgasm denial)

Previous Chapter Next Chapter Start from the beginning

“Just read it Severus, please.” Minerva pleaded. She was sat next to the fire in his high-backed chair, her arm extended holding the letter addressed to Valentine. It was dark outside now, despite the early evening. Christmas was fast approaching, and Severus found his free time was decreasing with each passing day, and he certainly didn’t expect to be spending his evening colluding with Minerva behind Valentine’s back. Severus had managed to stave off Minerva until this evening, until he was sure they could be safe in his rooms, safe and undisturbed. He was annoyed that Minerva had burst the content little bubble he had found that afternoon, he had hoped to enjoy his time, he had thought about asking whether Valentine would like to accompany him for a drink. Though it seemed that yet again, the universe had conspired against his happiness to bring him back to reality. At least it wasn’t Lily this time.  

“I really must protest, Minerva,” Severus said. He could see that Minerva’s face was grave, she was desperate to share whatever knowledge she had gained with him, but Severus felt extremely uncomfortable regarding the entire situation. “Well then, I shall just read it to you-” “Oh, just give it here.” He snarled and snatched the letter from Minerva’s waiting hands. He felt the weight of the letter under his fingertips and wondered how Valentine would feel if she knew that the two of them, her friends had betrayed her privacy in this manner. He lifted the rough parchment from the envelope delicately, almost as if he was scared to touch it. It was a relatively short passage, written seemingly with haste in an unsteady hand.

Daughter, it read.

I am again imploring you to stop this madness. Whilst you see it fit to ignore my previous warnings, I am writing to tell you that they know. You must do all you can to keep yourself safe, dearest. I am not privy to the full extent of their knowledge, but I would be remiss to tell you that they are coming. Please do the right thing. You need not reply to me, Elizabeth. I know it must hurt your heart to think of me so far away from you, as it hurts mine. If all goes well, we shall be together again soon, my little love. But you must promise me that you will do everything in your power to distance yourself from any danger and wait for my return. I promise that when I see you, you will never have another fear, my daughter. If you do decide to send word, you will have to do so using the old channels. We are tying up any loose ends, and you cannot be one of them.

My love, always,

Father

Severus’ hand shook as he reread the letter a few more times. Minerva stayed silent; her hands clasped in her lap as she watched Severus intently. Slowly, he lifted his head and met Minerva’s worried gaze. “What the fuck does this mean?” Severus snarled and shook the letter in his hand. Minerva shrugged her shoulders and let out an exasperated sigh. “I was hoping you might be able to assuage some of my confusion, Severus.” Minerva levelled, she leaned forward in her chair and reached out to take the letter from his hands, she skimmed over the writing once more before she tossed it onto the side table. Severus took a second before he really understood her words, he frowned as he turned to her. “And pray tell Minerva, what exactly you mean by that?” “Come Severus, don’t be coy.” “Coy?” He scoffed. “Hardly.” “I mean you no disrespect, you cannot blame me for trying to put two and two together.” “By all means Minerva, but don’t tarnish me with this brush! I have no part in…whatever this might be.” Minerva’s expression softened then; she extended a hand to Severus who took it hesitantly. He felt a multitude of emotions, from anger regarding Minerva’s accusatory tone; to embarrassment that he couldn’t blame her for being suspicious. “My dear boy,” she said sweetly, “In no way do I think this has anything to do with you. I merely thought you might have an idea of what Elizabeth’s father was talking about.” Severus shook his head silently, it always felt strange to him when Minerva spoke to him softly, like a mother. He licked his lips which suddenly felt painfully dry, he felt the Mark on his arm twinge. “No, I don’t. But I think we’ve both got the gist.” Severus said as he stood and turned his back to Minerva and faced the fire. He placed both hands behind his back and sighed. “This doesn’t leave this room, Minerva.”

The older witch dropped her jaw in shock, Severus snuck a glance over this shoulder and saw her looking at him agape. She rounded on him in an instant her hands found his arm and turned him to face her. “Do you not think the headmaster should know about this?” Minerva said incredulously, her eyes were panicked, and Severus bit his lip. “It isn’t that I think he shouldn’t know, its what exactly are we supposed to tell him? You accidentally opened a letter not addressed to you and you have read something that doesn’t entirely make sense-” “But it has come from Azkaban, Severus! Azkaban! Surely you do not disagree that this is concerning?” Minera replied, she shook the letter in his face. “Have you noticed anything suspicious about Elizabeth, Severus? If you have, you need to tell me.”

Severus was taken aback by her forwardness. Of course, he had noticed things that were suspicious, nearly every conversation he had had with Valentine she had lied to him, whether consciously or not. He deliberated whether to tell Minerva that he was almost certain that she lied about why she attended Beauxbatons rather than Hogwarts; and that when he had seen her just after she had received word from her father, she told him that he was ‘unfortunately’ in good health. Little things though they seemed when isolated, coupled with this mysterious letter she had received frightened Severus. Why hadn’t she been honest about her father? If her father was indeed imprisoned in Azkaban; his theory that someone she had been close to being involved in the Dark Arts made sense. That chance meeting with Lucius Malfoy they had in Hogsmeade and the unadulterated hostility between them; quite obviously they had met before and now perhaps Severus knew how. Valentine had done nothing but continue to surprise him since she arrived, she had caused him turmoil and now she was making him anxious. What else could she be hiding? If her father’s letter was anything to go by, something was afoot and Valentine was in danger, and that frightened him more than anything else.

“No,” Severus answered finally, Minerva let out a surprised breath, her shoulders slumped slightly. “Nothing.” “Oh, alright then.” She said, “Perhaps this can stay between just us for the time being. Until we can devise a cohesive course of action.” Minerva let the letter fall onto the table and rubbed her hands across her face. She looked tired. “I’m just worried about her, Severus. She has quickly found a special place in my heart and I’m worried that she has possibly found herself tangled in something tricky.” Severus sighed and gestured for her to sit. He moved lazily to his drinks cabinet and produced a bottle of wine and two glasses. He poured the cabernet-sauvignon readily into the glasses and filled them nearly to the brim. He placed one down in front of Minerva and tentatively took a sip of his own before settling into the chair opposite her. She stared into the fire silently sipping her wine, Severus eyed her guiltily not knowing what to say. He hated feeling like he was keeping things from her, but he couldn’t justify telling her everything until he knew the truth. He needed to speak with Valentine immediately, he couldn’t let her corrupt his thoughts like she so easily did and extract the truth from her, one way or the other.

It was Minerva who broke the silence eventually, a small smirk on her lips as she looked at him from under her lashes; “I suppose this puts you in a delicate predicament Severus, considering your…intimate relationship with Professor Valentine.” Severus could feel his cheeks warm and his stomach flipped. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He muttered, suddenly incredibly interested in the light reflecting from his wine glass. “You forget the walls have ears Severus, and eyes.” Minerva giggled. Severus groaned and slumped down into his chair. “Truthfully though Severus,” she continued, “I am pleased you’ve found somebody. You deserve to be happy dear, its time you allowed yourself that. Although, I can’t say I’m particularly surprised in your choice.” She raised an eyebrow. Severus brought his glass up to his lips to supress his smirk and thought back over his exploits with Valentine that afternoon. He felt a stirring in his groin as he visualised the look on her face as he made her come, the way she tasted on his lips. “What are we going to do?” Minerva said finally, all traces of joviality erased from her face as she looked at Severus worriedly. “We’re not going to do anything. Because we don’t know anything.” Severus decided, he summoned the letter with his wand and re-sealed the wax, so it appeared to have never been opened. “But you are going to deliver this to Valentine.” Minerva looked at him with a horrified expression. “You can’t be serious, Severus?” “Deadly.” “But! But-” “But,” Severus interrupted, “If she is indeed in danger, she needs to read that letter. Don’t you think?”

Minerva conceded with a nod and took back the letter and placed it in the pocket of her robes. She stood then, her wine finished and walked towards the door. Minerva placed her hand on the handle but paused and turned around to face Severus. “I’m worried Severus,” Minerva whispered. “I know I’ve said it many times this evening but…I just can’t shake the feeling that something terrible is going to happen.” Severus smiled stiffly at his friend, and rose to meet her at the door. “If it makes you feel any more at ease, I shall do a little bit of digging. I’ll send owls to some of my old contacts, I’ll let you know if anything comes back. Yes?” Severus said reassuringly, he didn’t want Minerva to see how worried he felt. She smiled at him and placed a soft hand on her cheek before leaving.

Severus left it ten or twenty minutes before he left his chambers. It must be past curfew by now, the corridors were empty and quiet save for the incessant chatter of the Hogwarts ghosts. His feet carried him to Valentine’s rooms almost silently. Before he knew exactly what he was doing his hand was knocking against the cold wood and he was being invited inside. Her private quarters looked completely different compared to the last time he had been here. She had placed flowers on surfaces, lined pictures up on the walls both enchanted and still and every available surface was littered with books in English, French and Welsh. He stood awkwardly before her, like he often did. Valentine on the other hand, comfortable in her own space lounged as well as she could on the hard-backed sofa, a glass of what seemed like port in one hand and a copy of Wuthering Heights in the other.

“Austen?” Severus said as he gestured to the book. “Brontë.” Valentine corrected with a smile. “Would you like to sit? Or are you going to continue your impression of a decorative ornament?” Severus moved slowly to the sofa and perched on the end occupied by her feet, she lifted them up and let him sit. He stared off into space for what seemed an age, though he could feel her eyes on him. She might be in danger and she doesn’t even know it yet, he thought. His old friend the unforgiving guilt returned in the pit of his stomach; his mouth watered as if he would be sick. “Valentine-” “Elizabeth.” She said. “Elizabeth,” Severus corrected himself. He didn’t quite know what he was going to say when he opened his mouth, he hoped his brain would catch up. “How are you?” He winced as soon as he said it. For fucks sake, is that all he was capable of? “I’m…fine?” Valentine replied dubiously, she placed her book down and swung her legs underneath her bum in order to face him properly. Why is it he had just noticed she was dressed for bed? Valentine wore little white shorts and a matching shirt that left little to the imagination, and a pair of Ravenclaw Quidditch socks. Severus raised an eyebrow when he saw the socks. “Picking sides already?” he humoured, Valentine looked confused before following his gaze and laughing. “Oh! They were a gift from Filius,” she giggled and fiddled with the fabric of her shorts sitting at the top of her thigh. “He gave me a scarf too, he said it was sad that I didn’t have a house. So, I suppose I’m an honorary Ravenclaw now. Even though I have no interest in Quidditch at all. Never have.” “Well if I’d have known it was that easy, I would have got you a Slytherin uniform.” Severus said, his eyes widened as soon as the words left his mouth, he hadn’t meant it like that and yet he smiled ruefully as Valentine’s head rolled back with laughter. “Well, whatever floats your boat, Sev.” She said still laughing, Severus’ smile faltered slightly at the use of his old nickname only really used by two others in his life: his mother and Lily. He tried to shake the memory away as he focused on Valentine’s smiling face. There was so much about her that he didn’t know, and now he found himself in a position he hadn’t been in for such a long time. He wanted to protect her from whatever was written in that letter, but he needed to know everything. “Did you need something from me this evening or is just my company you’re after?” she asked. “A little bit of both.” He said tentatively. “Oh, okay.” Valentine replied brightly, her smile remained as she waited for him to speak. Severus weighed the words heavily on his tongue before he spoke. “I-” Severus started; he shook his head. “I suppose I have some questions…about you.” She looked at him inquisitively. “I know you are acquainted with Lucius Malfoy.” He lied.

Valentine’s expression changed instantly. Her smile transformed into a dark look and her brow slightly furrowed; she raised her chin and squared her shoulders. “And?” Valentine spat; her gaze unwavering. Severus shifted uneasily in his seat. “I wanted to know the extent of your relationship. I too am…acquainted with Lucius Malfoy.” Severus said pointedly, he refused to look away from her face although everything in his body compelled him to. “My father knew him,” Valentine replied after a long while, her face was like stone. “A long time ago.” “Do they not…know each other, for lack of a better word, anymore?” He questioned, he leaned forward in his seat slightly trying to gauge whether she was telling the truth. “No. Not as far as I’m aware.” “And your father,” Severus began, “Is he still in France?” “Yes.”

Lies.

“Elizabeth, are you aware that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater?” Severus said boldly. Valentine sat upright on the sofa; hands curled into fists at her sides. “I’m aware he was under the Imperius Curse, Severus. I read it in the paper.” Valentine retorted without missing a beat. “Yes. Nasty business.” He countered. “You received a letter today.” Fuck, he was doing it. “It was delivered to Minerva by mistake. The return address is Azkaban.” Valentine shook slightly, her face had turned deathly pale. “Who do you know in Azkaban, Elizabeth?” “Have you read it?” “Who was it from?” “Have you, read it?” “No.”  

Valentine seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as Severus lied to her. Severus kept his gaze on her, unflinching. His heart ached in his chest, this woman that he had opened himself up to appeared before him now to be a sly little liar. Capable of what? He didn’t know. “What do you want, Severus?” She snarled; her eyes dark emeralds and her face twisted cruelly. “Like I said, nasty business.” “And what, are you implying with that?” Valentine whispered threateningly. “Not implying, merely…suggesting.” “What?” “It must be easy to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts when you’re surrounded by it.” Severus hadn’t meant to be so cold, but he felt betrayed. He had gone through hell and back again to earn the trust of those around him and now, Valentine, who had since the day she sauntered into his life had been a point of contention within him; was yet again causing him strife. “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten involved with you, Severus. It was a mistake.” Valentine said indifferently, she blinked at him slowly, unfeeling. “Why did you?” He didn’t want to ask, but the question escaped him anyway. She pondered her answer for a while before a cruel smirk crept onto her lips, she tilted her head to the side. “I was bored.”

Severus leapt towards her from his seat and captured her in his arms. He was furious, and he acted on sheer impulse. He brought her lips to his in a thunderous kiss. She resisted him for a moment before throwing her arms around his shoulders and pulling him on top of her. He kissed her neck roughly using his teeth to graze the skin and she hissed and moaned beneath him. He brought his lips down to her breasts and took a nipple in his mouth, he sucked it and rolled his tongue over the hardened teat. Her hands found themselves in his hair as she cursed into the air above them. She opened her legs and wrapped them around Severus’ waist and bucked her hips upward. He looked up at her from his position and brought two fingers to her lips and pushed them into her mouth, she sucked slowly on his fingers before he removed them with a wanton pop. He brought his hand deftly down her body and plunged it straight into her shorts, finding her already wet. Without hesitation he slid his already lubricated fingers inside her, she moaned loudly with the surprise. He could see a smile emerging on her lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, curling them slightly as they reached far inside her. She shuddered beneath him as he fucked her with his fingers, his thumb rubbing her clit in quick circles. He had never heard noises like the ones she was making, he was so painfully hard his hips rocked involuntarily. He could feel her wetness against his fingers as he continued to finger her, the sounds of her dampness loud in his ears. It wasn’t long before she was moaning louder, telling him she was going to come. Just as he felt her walls begin to tighten around his fingers and her moans became gravelly, he removed his fingers quickly and stood.

Valentine sat up like a shot, her chest heaved heavily, and her face etched with fury. “What the fuck?” she breathed angrily. “My apologies,” Severus said breezily as he swung her door open. “I was bored.”

[multismarvel]

Help – Part Two (Oscar Diaz)

tw– blood, shooting

By the time the ambulances came, you were unconscious. You were barely breathing anyway and when you did, they came out in long, dragged breaths. Blood was seeping out of your chest and if it wasn’t for the just about noticeable movement of your breathing, it looked like you were dead. But you weren’t yet.

“Please, help her,” Cesar begged as the paramedics wheeled you into the ambulance. He couldn’t live with the fact you died because of him. You couldn’t die. He needed you. Oscar needed you.

“We’ll try our best, kid,” the paramedic told him. “What’s your relation to this woman, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Brother,” Cesar replies without a beat, joining your barely conscious body and the paramedic onto the ambulance. “I’m her brother.”

The paramedic began the attempt to save your life and the shock of it all was really beginning to hit Cesar. He couldn’t sit here and watch you die.

Your heart rate began to slow and the lines representing your heart beat on the screen got lower and lower. Cesar didn’t know much but he knew enough to realise that wasn’t good. You had to pull through. Your life couldn’t end here. If it wasn’t for the cardioversion that the paramedic used to resuscitate you, who knew what would’ve happened? You were knocking on death’s door and Cesar had never been so scared.

The nurses wheeled you away as soon as they got on the hospital grounds to perform surgery. Ceser was left in the reception, alone and afraid with only his thoughts to help ease his mind but they didn’t. He was by no means a religious person but he was praying to whoever existed up above that you survived the surgery. And Olivia. And Ruby. Three deaths were going to be on his conscience. He was well aware that Oscar wouldn’t even consider forgiving him if you died.

Oscar. Only God knew how badly he’d take all of this. Cesar was an obvious physical wreck at the moment but he knew Oscar wouldn’t show how it affected him. He always had to put on a front but Cesar didn’t think he’d be able to hold it well once he found out about you.

Getting his phone out of his pocket, Cesar called his brother.

“Mano, what’s up?”

As soon as he heard Oscar’s voice, Cesar cried hard, his chest convulsing with powerful sobs. How could he let his brother down? How could he let you down? Tonight was supposed to be the best night for everyone and now because of one action he made, it was the worst.

“Hey, hey calm down.” Oscar’s voice was gentle though Cesar knew he was worried. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my fault, it’s all my fault,” weeped Cesar. “She’s going to die because of me.”

Oscar immediately knew the she in question was you. He didn’t know what happened or why or how but he knew something was wrong. He hoped Cesar wasn’t calling from the hospital and that he was just being melodramatic as usual. For once, Oscar wanted his gut feeling to be wrong. He couldn’t lose you.

“Where are you right now?” Oscar questioned.

“The hospital,” Cesar sniffed. The feeling of guilt in his body increased every second.

“I’ll meet you there. Don’t leave and don’t contact anybody,” Oscar demanded before hanging up.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Dread, anxiety and fear filled Oscar’s body. He was a gang member – a gang leader even and he’d never felt so afraid than in that moment. He even felt something was wrong seeing Cesar’s name flash across his phone. He felt it deep inside and it took over his being. As long as he lived he would never forget that feeling. He’d worked so hard to stay away from you to keep you safe and it’d done the complete opposite. Guilt wrecked his body. It could’ve been a different story if he was there. He would take a bullet for you without hesitation any day – even if it meant he’d die.

If you woke up, and judging by Cesar’s cries that seemed like a hard if, Oscar would get you out of the hood. He’d give you money, he’d threaten you to leave, he’d do what he had to. It was too dangerous for you to be in Freeridge. You were in a safe place with people you trusted yet you were still in danger. It wasn’t only the people but the place too and he’d make sure you were away once you were back in good health.

The drive over to the hospital was no doubt the longest drive Oscar’s ever and he was speeding the whole way. He was so frightened he’d get a call about you. He was more afraid that when he saw Cesar, he’d tell him that you were dead. His heart felt like it was going to burst if it beat any harder.

“How is she?” Oscar asked when he saw Cesar.

“They haven’t said anything yet,” Cesar told him.

“How did this happen?” Oscar thought back to what Cesar said. ‘It’s my fault.’

Cesar sniffled, “I didn’t kill Latrell. Then he came by the party. Ruby and Olivia got shot.” He choked out your name. “She got in the way and tried to save them.”

“You fucking what?” Oscar seethed. “I gave you one job and you couldn’t even do that? You could’ve killed the kid. Now he’s coming for the people you care about.”

“I don’t want to be a murderer,” Cesar said. “I just wanted to have a normal night with my friends.”

“You’d better hope they all pull through,” Oscar told him. “Otherwise it’s on you.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Cesar admitted truthfully. All he wanted to do was be a good person and it backfired in a way he never anticipated.

“What did you think was going to happen?” Oscar challenged. “He was a Prophet. We’re Santos. Obviously he was going to come back to finish the job. The job that you were supposed to get done.”

Gang affiliations and orders always took precedence over what people wanted to do. It didn’t matter if Cesar wanted to be a good person. He was a part of the Santos and as a result of that he was supposed to kill a Prophet who threatened him. A threat to one member of the Santos was a threat to all of them. Now Oscar was going to lose the love of his life and for what?

It still seemed so surreal. Neither Oscar or Cesar knew when you’d be out of surgery or if you’d even make it. They didn’t want to hear from the nurse that you died on the operating table. Oscar had lost enough people he cared about like that and didn’t plan on adding you to the list.

“Was it bad?” Oscar inquired about your injuries.

“Oscar...” Cesar trailed off. He didn’t want to put his brother through more anguish.

“Just tell me,” Oscar pleaded softly.

Cesar nodded silently, sitting down. “It was bad.” He shut his eyes and shuddered as the memory of you getting gunned down flashed back into his mind. “If I could’ve taken those bullets I would have.”

“I know.” Oscar sat down next to him. He couldn’t be angry with Cesar – not right now anyway. They were both hurt and confused about what was going on. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

The two of them stayed side by side all night. Hours and hours passed by. Cesar answered calls and texts from everyone and informed them about you being in surgery. He’d also found out Olivia and Ruby were in the same situation as you and hoped they were alright too. The suspense was all too much and it didn’t help they couldn’t see you.

A nurse walked to them and said your name. At last.

Oscar’s head rose up immediately and Cesar’s heart broke seeing the glint of hope in his eyes. The last bit of hope Oscar had depended on you being alive and after that everything was lost. Oscar would never be the same without you around.

“Is she okay? Can we see her? How is she?” Oscar questioned.

“She’s okay,” the nurse confirmed and the two brothers breathed a sigh of relief. “Only family members can come in. I was informed one is her brother but who is the other?”

“Husband,” Cesar supplied. “He’s her husband and I’m her brother in law.”

Oscar would’ve given Cesar an incredulous look but he didn’t want to give anything away so he went along with it. “She’s my wife. I just want to see that she’s alright.”

“Follow me,” the nurse ordered. The three of them took a quick walk to the room where you were. “She’s on pain meds so she may be in and out of consciousness. Try not to make the conversation too heavy.” She pointed to the room you were in and made her way back to the reception.

Oscar’s heart was racing and he felt so nervous. Part of him wanted you to never leave his side and the other part of him wanted you to leave Freeridge and be safe. You deserved to be safe and not worry about yourself or the people you loved.

“You see her first.” Oscar pushed Cesar towards your room.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Cesar walked to your room and felt his heart swell with emotion as soon as he saw you. His eyes welled up with tears all over again.

“Cesar,” you called out his name, ignoring the ache in your chest. You’d been conscious for a little while but with the help of the meds, it’d helped drastically.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologised, sitting in the chair next to your bed. He held your hand. “I can’t believe this even happened. Will you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you dismissed. “I don’t blame you at all.”

Cesar’s tensed shoulders had sagged slightly at that comment. He was relaxing. He needed to hear that from you.

“We didn’t think you were going to make it,” Cesar spoke. “There was so much blood, God, I was so scared. I’m really relieved you’re here. Alive.”

“Me too.” You didn’t have the best life but you didn’t want to die. There was still so much time ahead and so much life left to live. You didn’t want to be robbed of that.

“Oscar’s here too,” Cesar told you.

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say. Even in your drugged, weak state you’d wondered why he didn’t come and see you when you looked good. Instead he was here to see you dressed up in a hospital gown with gauze and scars on your chest. “That’s good. I know you guys must’ve been worried sick.”

“He won’t admit it but he was really scared,” Cesar said. “He doesn’t want to lose you. He loves you.”

That might’ve been true but you still wondered. Oscar was so closed off it made you question things. It made you want to be around him more and it made you care more when it should’ve been the opposite. You were baffled and hurt but still in love. Just like he was.

“He’s like right outside. I’m going to get him now.”

Before you could argue otherwise, though you’d wondered why he hadn’t come first, Cesar went to get his brother. When Oscar came in it was like the tension couldn’t have even been cut by a knife. No one knew how to react and everyone was anticipating what was going to happen next. Cesar pat his brother’s back in a show of encouragement before leaving the room. He’d probably go visit Monse and the others.

Oscar welcomed the feeling of relief when he saw your body. Words couldn’t explain how he felt knowing you were alive. His knees would’ve buckled in shock if he wasn’t so good at keeping up his facade. You were here, living and breathing and Oscar would do whatever it took to ensure it stayed that way.

“Uh, hey.” Oscar slowly made his way to the seat once occupied by Cesar.

“Hey,” you repeated back. All these emotions you felt were all so sudden and made you feel drowsy. No way were you going unconscious now.

“I, uh.” Oscar knew what he wanted to say. He wasn’t ready for the emotion that would come with it. You always told him to be more open and honest with his emotions. “That was scary.”

“It was,” you agreed, knowing that even if Oscar didn’t talk much that his mind was racing with thoughts and questions. “But I’m okay. You don’t have to worry now.”

“Don’t I?” Oscar thought otherwise. “I kept away from you to keep you safe and this is what happens. You’re not okay. I think you should leave Freeridge once you’re better. Move to a safe area.”

“Are you serious?” You hissed, not being able to shout. “I’ve just woken up and this is what you’re telling me?”

“What did you want me to do? Get on my knees and confess my dying love for you? That would only make you stay.” Oscar snapped. “You’re not safe here and if this happens again, you might not be as lucky.”

“Why are you being like this?” You snapped back. “Why can’t you just be nice for once? Couldn’t this conversation waited til I got out of hospital?”

“Look, the best chance you have is leaving this place and making something for yourself,” Oscar told you. “You’re not going to find what you need in Freeridge.”

You shut your eyes and sighed. “If you’re going to rebuff my non-existent advances again, quit while you’re ahead.”

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” Oscar’s tone wasn’t annoyed like it usually was. It was softer as if he’d accepted defeat.

“Why do you have to be in denial?” You asked.

It was Oscar’s turn to sigh. “Stop. Don’t do this. Not now.”

“Oh, come on.” You gave a small smile. “You have to answer my questions. I was shot twice after all. You’re not going to add salt on the wound, are you?”

Oscar kept his eyes on you the whole time. You were expecting him to break away but he wasn’t one to back down from confrontation.

“Tell me how you really feel about me and if you’re lying, and I’ll know, then I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me ever again.”

Oscar’s stomach lurched in fear at those words. That part of him he’d pushed away that wanted to spend his life with you was getting harder and harder to override. He wanted to be the first thought in your mind when you woke up and the last before you went to bed. He wanted to wake up with you in the morning and go to sleep with you at night. Jealousy erupted in him at the mere thought of someone else getting to share their life with you.

“Fine, I don’t like you.”

“Try again.”

“I just want what’s best for you,” Oscar confessed. “I can’t stand being away from you but I’m scared of what will happen if I’m with you. If you were ever in this situation because of me, I’m not sure I could handle that.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” you echoed your words from a few weeks earlier. “Why don’t you let yourself be happy?”

“Why don’t you just give up on me? Everyone else has,” Oscar pointed out.

“Because I love you,” you told him, grabbing his hand. “I love you, Oscar, and I have done ever since freshman year. I know you love me too and I know we can be something really good and you keep fighting me. It’s okay to feel, Oscar, good and bad and it’s okay to love. It can be scary but it’s good. I’m falling really hard for you and I want you there to catch me.”

“What if you want out one day?” Oscar voiced his thoughts.

“I won’t,” you insisted.

“But what if?” Oscar repeated. “You might not feel the same way all the time.”

“I will never stop loving you,” you promised him. “The same way you never stopped loving me and wanting to keep me safe.”

“I love you,” Oscar started, “but-”

“But nothing,” you stopped him. “I lived a life without you and I don’t want to do that anymore. You deserve to happy. We both do.”

“You really want this? Me?” Oscar quizzed you again just to be sure.

You rolled your eyes. “My outpouring of love wasn’t enough?”

“I don’t want to mess this up,” Oscar admitted. “I’ve hurt you enough and I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“So be with me,” you told him. “Love me. Stay by my side because I can’t spend another second without you.”

Oscar kissed your hand and your heart swelled at the act. “Okay, I will. I won’t fuck this up, I promise.”

“I believe you.” Truth be told, you believed him with every fibre of your being. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

In that moment Oscar Diaz was the love of your life and nothing could ruin that for the both of you. Your new life was beginning and because you were getting to spend it with Oscar, you never wanted it to end.

[crackcrocs]

DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #3

3. Transformation Central

the entities of my personalities would like to come together in one voice that speaks through me, we or I call this collection of words from the mustiest corners of my brain to this note page to voice something that might come close to what I feel underneath the skin I wear. In all my unorganised words- I might even go as far as to call this a poem, titled:

‘TRANSFORMATION CENTRAL’

sub characters in my head would appreciate if this could be visualised & understood through as deep a lens as humanly possible. even I confuse myself so if you can decode or relate to any of this, wonderful. If not, I’m locked in my own mind, swallowed the keys to my soul.

SIMILARITIES & INTERCONNECTEDNESS BETWEEN HUMAN & PLANT CONSCIOUSNESS EXIST! if you look closely at my nose freckles you’ll see the resemblance of the constellations above. if you look at the human veins & the layout of a tree, this is further proof.

{VISUALS THROUGH A SEPIA WINDOW STARING @ THE AUTUMN LEAFS; IMAGINING THE SEEDS UNDERNEATH, THROUGH NUMB ROOT VESSELS THAT PERMEATE THROUGH EVERY MEMBRANE OF MY EXTERNAL TO INTERNAL ENVIRONMENT}

~FEATURING THE VICIOUS CYCLE OF DEPRESSION & PERFECTIONISM.

here goes:

What is this part of my mind ?

If you want; delve inside-

I may look sweet like Alice,

but underneath it all

I deteste looking in the mirror

-cos I see the mad hatter.

my inner child needs a platter-

full of care not distortion & abuse pls.

less fibbin would’ve been a breeze.

now following the dead fish in the stream!

HOW on EARTH do I fit with the cod & the Haddock?

I’m the rainbow fish- beat & battered.

dim my own light cos I’m too afraid to shine.

alone.

thieves tried to steal my shiny scales.

I sat and watched them grow.

In the sea realm they were mean gargantuan selfish whales, with poisonous shark fangs & alligator tails. scorpion hands. (gremlins)

and still they make me feel like the alien-

I cant take it.

Make it make sense ?

I can’t.

controller in my hand-

Off balance stance.  

anxiously I move round like a wobbly jelly.

where’s the button to balance my chi & shut out the ego ?

the teLLIE telling lies to our vision!

change the channel aura terracotta orange- daily dosage of vitamin D & C.

catch me sun gazing by the sea

head buzzin like a bee.

speaking from a dusty box

stuck on top of a forbidden shelf

cos I dunno how else.

I’m tryna delve deep but forgot how to dive

How can i visualise? scenery foggy-

the establishment man with the glue gun got me xD

inner monk burning but at peace

Cos I refuse to believe

If the only way is the American dream

Interconnected; like the frog in science -let’s dissect it!

down to every floating atom spirit neighbouring your door

subcategories & divisions, it’s more!

than the rich and the poor -prism that’s been built

do we all feel like a performance monkey on stilts?

will my data be extracted & used to mould a robots personality some day?

well obviously not.

does the price of our lives all amount down to slave ways?

LABOUR YAY!

but morals & values it seems we’ve forgot.

sO If i don’t speak its cos I’m lost.

or maybe i’m enlightened-

Standing at the edge of the porch;

watching TRYING to understand how the flowers grow.

questioning eVERYTHING man made!

I’ve stepped out of the perfect picture frame

I can see the coal pollute the sky

I need to hop on the train-

but I’m comfortable

Sunset to sunrise statue standing still.

what’s the ingredients to life’s yucky pie?

I’ve exceeded mental lotteries.

Sanity n universal peace would be a trophy.

TIL then I’ll be crafting & shaping a solid pottery reality,

with a few pence, gum, and a bandana of belongings tied to stick.

thinking one day I’ll be laying the bricks

& building a kingdom of bliss.

guess for now I’ll use the intricate delicate materials in my tool box- that’s all I’ve got.

might have a long way- maybe worth a shot.

I observe, cruisin in the sky.

dunno why..

I jus look @ the hills.

Only time & history reveals.

no thanks mr men-

I don’t want your prescription pills.

there’s enough propaganda as it is.

I won’t jump on the merry go round-

til my core trusts & envisions we’ll actually feel safe!

I don’t want to take part in this faux fur, sweet nothings & a jack in a box punching blur, so called future.

oh and genuinely thanks quarantine-for once again, I can hear bird sounds!

guess this is me tryna speak out loud!!!...

it’s not thrilling

system  time killing everything-

mother nature’s oxygen

everything is nauseating

clock ticking, I better start creating.

they should write a book on how to be free when the system set us up to believe that we’re tied to the cut down trees that gives them a currency of greed that they breed.

If blindfolded, I don’t wanna eat what they feed.

Whilst they profit of us -tell us smile and the bandits don’t wanna see us happy.

they’re too busy robbing all our hoods.

In exchange for the silence, they’ve granted us with a 21’st century fashion garment of a slave muzzle! labelled conform.

More delusion to add to the already desensitised norm.

zootonic diseases, welcome covid 19 to your plastic kiddy tea party!- apologies for questioning your motive!

Been handed too many hot plates with a post it note saying HOLD THIS.

we’ll be okay just hush.

Same Shan message told to every generational seed.

If we don’t TRY overpower-

we’ll never succeed!

it’s getting even more scary.

Artificial intelligence.

Societal negligence..

my canvas isn’t clear-dunno am I schizo ?

finger painting, cos it makes more sense.

struggling to blend.

borderline conspiracist pretending to be fine;

moving the goal post, hovering above the race line.

who made the chalk? who set the lanes?

I wanna know it all, maybe¿ far past insane.

I can fit all I need in the palm of my hand,

Maybe even less! cut a finger off not sure it’ll even add stress.

hi from personality Peter, even sober- always away with the fairies.

Pass the pixie dust, I’m in a rush

Found shelter in the comfort of pan physicists timer, no not the one on your phone!

Ring ring, skeptical! is it my demon or my mommy on the phone?

I’m stuck in the airspace of an infinite glass filled with beach particles trying to form myself standing up still attempting not to slip through the hands of my very own discovery.

time is running out & ill go when I go.

I’m sitting inside the fly trap -

stardust, chakras can you feel the sensation colors like a starburst.

deep emotion is a curse.

still entrapped in the sand dune of nothingness-

flipping a domino monopoly of solidified thoughts as I sway with the wind.

I’m the trapped sandbox in the playground & the slipping sand in my own hands.

Inhale chronic but I wanna enter the quiet realm of white noise

-color of a wife beater vest, calmer than the ease in ignorance of a red neck.

sadomasochistic, messes.

but oblivion, seems like less stress.

Unfortunately I can see, with all eyes

empathetic paralysis, gets me vexed.

Punching truth into the core of your chest!

It’s not funny, neither is the one on the receiving end..

My limbs are numb

& im done playing octopus alchemy.

I want minimalism & life can be simple,

Evil entities have made it hard.

Maybe I’ve got stars above my head like an old cartoon character.

But I can’t make it make sense, are they out to get me. worse all of us? Or have I bottled myself tryna re mesh the broken shards,

I feel glued to the floor cos there’s a pretty price to pay if you want more.

I see life through a different lense, maybe born downside up, Benjamin button I came out the back door-

Outside looking in, digesting confusion.

Is to be a product of environment a sin?

rummage through my messy brain.

personalities sardine packed in this tin

I’m the wizard of my mania

Scaring & attracting the black crows-

they’re my friends.

Sometimes still a cowardly lion

Roaring pain & true riddles at the wrenching wicked witch posse of the west.

will my voice ever be loud enough to shed light wit my words and grate the sweet zest

In to the cake i’m baking?

Probably not.

Got more thoughts than the autumn leaves collected by the garden rake. alone.

gathering & storing the pains of yesterday.

sometimes I stay in line

Other times in my head Im on my hands juggling out of time.

but I really don’t mind if I lose or win.

we all have a pace

I jus don’t want the 1% to win the race.

It’s unfair!

Humanity does anyone care ??

Half lady

half fairy

Good  MOOrning-

from my anagrams.

no I’m not a cow.

twister fidget spinner brain in the flesh-

form of expression this time around lyrics.

feel I’m jus a silly rubix

& still mourning

I don’t like dairy

pass the oat milk.

Are you aware the industry are sabotaging our diets?

we want peace!

the powerful elite-

perceive & deceive

the scene they want us to be.

chuck the narcissistic psychopathic pie back in our face-

every time we almost found & addressed the Programme & Control man in the maze.

evil & extroverted- he said that the anarchists have to be the cause of riots.

working isn’t class. I said let’s switch roles- he said pass.

It’s piss! Who’s got the bomb & the guns?

Who got the land? off wit OUR heads 4 fun!

it’s pure scary.

Pharmaceutics handshake.

with the cooked up suppliers, also crooked wack liars.

I’d rather shot a gallon of bloody blubbery infused slaughter house milk

If it meant we didn’t use cocoons for silk.

why not add a drizzle of bleach to the concoction & maybe that’s a reach.

every time I guzzle fakeness, it taste peak.

I want real fruit, what next-

a seedless peach ???

what’s the difference between a weirdo & a freak?

layers & levels to the shit.

Magnifying tapping the window of society, I’ll be puffing green til I get to the land of Oz.

sponge soaked soaking up emotions

Suffocated by deduction of care in life

feel entrapped in this paradigm

what am I thinking ?

got the verbs & a cuppa tea

It’s mixed with torment & desire to be free.

I’d rather be awake than asleep

When I get too comfy I feel weak

Demons they reap

underneath

rip the seems as I bleed

Concrete

Solid

Emotions

Is all you’re getting

It’s all sad scenes in the imagery I’m setting

people need care we seem to be forgetting

why are we in debt wit

a posse of clowns

pay the price so we can get a frown

here’s some seratonin

quit ya moaning

life is all sound

aw yeh¿  if you’re not an over thinker!

product of environment- Sirius flickers

theyve done a ritual like it’s Wicca

now here’s your gold sticker..

for managing to co operate.

In this world fuelled off of evil n hate

waking ups a bloody disgrace

I am not amazed.

Man I love my fam n my friends

Just hate this part of my brain that feels the need to play pretend

sometimes I feel insane

but I’m calm

need to escape so I don’t do harm

Gold lioness in the sky by the sea

with puff the magic dragon

fire out my mouth, fuel helps me breathe

I will shine bright

Promise imma be alright

even tho I’m not sure why

I function like this

I wanna be myself

It’s just hard to find the comfortability

To feel happy and pretty

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Ring around sing about overdose emotions

Sorry dunno how to communicate

Heads in a constant debate

Should I go or should I stay

My head clashes

Burnin the next ciggy as my thoughts become ashes.

[emachinescat]

Title: Of Concussions and Incorrigible Cons | Fandom: Psych

Summary: AU of the pilot episode. After being reprimanded by the interim chief, Head Detective Carlton Lassiter bites off more than he can possibly chew after attempting to apologize to a concussed Spencer for the less than gentle arrest at the end of the McCallum case. Spoilers for "Domestic Pilot." Part 1 of my whumpy episodic AU series, "AU that Glitters."

Words: 1,951

TW: None

AO3 Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Episode AU: s01e01: Domestic Pilot, Whump

Year Published: 2017

Full story here or on AO3!

Head Detective Carlton Lassiter stood in front of the interim chief's door, fist poised to knock and foot tapping an anxious rhythm on the floor. Vick had been rather short with him when she'd asked him to come to her office as soon as the paperwork for the McCallum case had been taken care of. It wasn't the "I'm busy, so make it quick" kind of short, either… she was agitated about something.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

Her voice rang out from inside, dead serious as could be. Yeah, she was pissed about something.

He entered, and opted for the ignorant approach, which was just as well, because he really had no idea what this was about. After all, he'd already been given a stern-talking to about inter-department romance and Lucinda was in the process of being transferred. A little swell of fury rose at the thought of the man – the so-called "psychic" who had so carelessly ruined one of the only positive things he had going for him.

"Detective Lassiter. Please sit."

He sat stiffly in the proffered chair, refusing to let the cushy trappings lull him into a false sense of security. He maintained eye contact with the chief, letting her know that he was completely comfortable in the situation that he found himself in, and that he had nothing to hide. Never mind the fact that he wasn't all that comfortable with the cloak and dagger business, being left in the dark about why he was here in the first place. "Chief. What can I do for you?"

Vick's eyes may have softened the tiniest bit at his cordial greeting, but she still did not look like a happy camper.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Detective," she said bluntly. "This could have turned out much worse. As it is, I am going to have to give you an informal reprimand and warn you to be very careful in the future."

Lassiter blinked. "Uh, Chief… What…?"

"Detective, you cannot be physically aggressive toward civilians who are in your custody, unless they are resisting arrest or are posing a threat to you or others around you."

Still trying to work through the confusion, Lassiter was both offended and relieved that there had been a mistake like this, that Vick actually thought that he'd attack a non-resisting civilian. Whatever she'd heard, it was all a big mix up. "Chief, let me assure you that I would never—"

"Shawn Spencer. McCallum residence. Yesterday afternoon. Ring any bells?"

Lassiter blanched. "Spencer hardly counts as a civilian. He's a hindrance to real police work, a distraction, and at the time, he was trespassing. I had to take him in." He left the bitter, At least, until he solved my damn case, left unspoken.

"Be that as it may, Detective, your shoving him head-first into the frame of the car was a bit overboard, don't you think?"

Wait, this was what this was about? Seriously?

"He was resisting arrest, Chief. He was… flailing and pretending to have 'visions' and acting like a crazy person!"

A delicate but ferocious eyebrow lifted. "Not when you shoved him into the car. And may I remind you, he did solve the case?"

"Did he tell you this? That little…"

"Detective!" the chief cut him off before he could say anything to get himself into any more trouble, which, although he didn't appreciate at the time, he was begrudgingly thankful for after the fact. "Mr. Spencer didn't tell me anything. I was there, remember? I saw the whole thing… whatever it was."

Oh. Right. Damn that Spencer for getting into his head like this!

"He's fine, Chief," Lassiter responded, much more calmly this time. "Don't let him take advantage of you. This country is crawling with people faking injuries just to get a few thousand dollars from a lawsuit."

"I told you, Mr. Spencer said nothing to me. His father, on the other hand, called me this morning in a rage. Thankfully, I was able to calm him down and help him to see reason, but it wasn't easy."

"So he went and told his daddy that he got a boo-boo at the crime scene?" Lassiter couldn't keep the disgusted contempt out of his voice this time. "I thought they hated each other, anyway?"

"They have a… complicated relationship, and it really isn't our place to bring that under speculation. However…" She sighed. "It is my job to make sure that my officers are not allowing their emotions or anger, no matter how warranted said anger might be, to get the better of them. Especially after what Henry told me this morning. Apparently, Mr. Guster had to take Shawn to the emergency room last night after his headache peaked and he lost consciousness briefly. Mr. Spencer is being treated for a concussion, Detective, and that is why we're having this talk."

"Oh." Lassiter wasn't sure what to say beyond that, but he slapped away the little niggle of guilt that tried to burrow into him at the news. He hadn't meant to hurt Spencer, certainly not that badly. The man was being difficult, had lost Lassiter his girlfriend, his respect… had mocked him by acting like an idiot and still managing to solve the case first…

"Shawn himself is not going to press charges or file a report, though I was obligated to contact him about the matter. He said – and these are his words – that 'Mr. Grumpy Detective-Face is emotionally stunted and is just trying to express how much he likes me in the only way he knows how.'" Vick looked marginally amused as she read Spencer's response off the sheet in front of her. A muscle in Lassiter's neck twitched. "Now, those exact words could be because of the concussion…"

Lassiter fought the urge to roll his eyes. "They're not, Chief. Trust me."

Now appearing to be fighting a smile, the chief said, "Consider this your unofficial reprimand and warning to control your irritation when you are faced with a particularly difficult witness… or consultant. Because once he is feeling better, I do believe the department will be calling on Mr. Spencer again."

This time, Lassiter couldn't stop the eye roll. Or the groan. Vick smiled. "You're dismissed, Detective."

"Yes, ma—uh, I mean, Chief."

***

Shawn was woken when the doorbell rang, the sound slicing through his aching head like a butter knife through steak... or however that saying went. Without bothering to get up from where he was sprawled on the couch, he called out, "It's open."

Damn, concussions sucked. It was bad enough that Gus had practically dragged him to the hospital after he'd had some sort of dizzy spell last night, but then he'd called his dad to boot? Was this now Gus with his mom for additional parental torture? Not that he would mind seeing his mom… but he was so over worried hovering. Gus played the part of a worried mother exceptionally well, and Shawn couldn't handle two of them… Which was made irrelevant when the door opened to reveal not his mother, but…

"Detective Lassiter?"

Lassiter stepped into Shawn's apartment, keen blue eyes taking the coffee table littered with empty pudding cups, icepacks, water bottles, and prescription bottles. "You just leave your front door unlocked for anyone to come waltzing in? You're just begging to be robbed." Upon taking another look around at the untidy living space, his lip curled and he added, "Or maybe not."

Shawn struggled to sit up past the monkey playing cymbals in his head. "Your contempt for my apartment aside, what are you doing here?"

The detective hesitated. "I was just in the neighborhood and I…" Shawn watched knowingly as the detective's gaze shifted to the rather impressive bruise on his head.

"You wanted to check on me? Oh, Detective, you shouldn't have!"

"I didn't," growled Lassiter. He paused. "This was a mistake. I'll just—"

"Wait!" Shawn shifted, patting the sofa seat beside him. "Come in. Sit down. Rest your rumpus. Put your feet up. Slow your roll. Chillax your—"

With an irritated grunt, the detective passed the threshold and sat in the chair farthest away from Shawn. "Look. I didn't exactly… yesterday, when I…"

"I know, I know. You were just expressing your love for me in the only way you know how, like that little boy in school who pulls the little girl's pigtails because he thinks she's cute."

"Absolutely not."

"Okay, you got me—" Shawn winced as a particularly painful wave shot through his poor, abused noggin. "I was that kid in school. Her name was Melinda, and she had the cutest, bounciest set of—"

"Dear Lord, please stop talking."

"I was going to say pigtails, dude. Mind. Gutter. Get it out."

"This is a monumental waste of my time," the detective spat, standing up so abruptly it almost gave Shawn vertigo… Or wait, he might have already had vertigo, wasn't that a concussion symptom ? And what was vertigo, anyway? Besides an Alfred Hitchcock flick?

Past the pounding in his skull, Shawn heard footsteps stomping away, toward the door. Despite the telltale ringing in his ears, Shawn scrabbled to his feet, ignoring the dark spots dancing wildly in front of his eyes. His pulse hammered, his breath felt short and stunted, and the dizziness spiked. He knew what was going to happen seconds before it did. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

***

When the world swam back into focus, Shawn was surprised to find that he was back on the couch, not in a heap on the floor. He noticed blearily that his hands tingled like he'd been sitting on them for a couple of weeks, and his ears were still ringing like a high school band had paraded between them and accidentally left the triangle player behind. With a groan against the horrible pounding that had overtaken his skull – the procession of drummers must've gotten left behind, too – he rolled over to see Head Detective Carlton Lassiter kneeling next to the couch.

"You passed out," the detective stated helpfully.

"I did not," Shawn argued, mostly out of obligatory need to irritate whoever was in his general vicinity. "I fell asleep, suddenly and quickly, in a very manly and not wimpy way."

"Sure you did. Just be glad I got to you before you hit the ground. You would have a matching bruise on the other side of your head."

Shawn feigned shock. "So you dashed to my side, caught me before I hit the ground, gently placed me on the sofa, and lingered over my prone body until you knew I wasn't on death's door? Detective, I'm touched."

Lassiter half-sneered, half-smirked. "You were only out for a handful of seconds. I was hoping you'd stay out of it long enough for me to escape, but of course you had to ruin that plan, too."

Shawn winced, only partly out of pain. "Look, man, I'm sorry about your girlfriend. I just—"

The detective stood hastily, popping up from the ground like a Jack-in-the-Box with a strong Irish hairline and lots of pent-up aggression. "We don't talk about that. Ever."

Shawn lifted both hands up in mock surrender. Lassiter's face softened, just the tiniest, miniscule bit. "You're okay, though? Do I need to call your father or someone—?"

"No! I would rather you leave me here to die."

Lassiter shrugged. "Works for me." He strode for the door.

Shawn hesitated, licked his lips, and then offered, "Detective? Thanks."

"Just take it easy," the detective advised.

It was as close to an apology as Shawn was going to get, and, though Shawn might not have shown it through his next words, he did in fact appreciate it.

"Lassie," Shawn said, testing out the new nickname he'd been considering since he'd met the detective. He watched with glee as the man bristled in agitation.

"What?" the detective ground out through gritted teeth.

"I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

The head detective had fled the apartment and slammed the door before Shawn could blink. Shawn settled back into the couch cushions and tried to will his head to stop raging against him. Or at least a plain but not drop-dead-ugly working tolerance, he amended in his head, before he drifted off to sleep.

[miracul0us-multishipper]

Welcome to the back (Part 4)

First Chapter  Previous Chapter  Next Chapter

In the end, Rossi managed to talk her way out of this as well. The pen? She’d found it at Felix’ and Marinette’s table. The contents of the book? She’d guessed them based of his love for poetry; she claimed. The ink on her fingers must have gotten there when she’d picked up the pen, and the smudge wasn’t big enough to actually compare with her fingerprints anyway. That, Agreste’s efforts and her crocodile tears were enough to convince the class she was innocent.

“I’m sure we’ll find the real culprit, Felix.”, she tried to get back in his good graces. “Are we still friends?”

Agreste sighed in the background, doubtlessly because he thought this was over. Well, Felix thought, better prepare for disappointment.

“We never were friends to begin with.”, he stated, his eyes burning into her. “And I don’t believe a single word you just spouted.”

Rossi took a step back, another round of tears forming in her eyes, and Agreste gasped. He only had a scoff for both of their reactions.

“Don’t ever touch my stuff again, Rossi. And stop asking me out.”

Turning around, he grabbed his bag and made his way towards the classroom. Students parted to let him through, either staring at him in disbelief or moving to comfort Rossi. Some tried to stop him, ordering him to apologize, but he only rolled his eyes and walked on.

If they were that gullible, he could do without their favour.

He clutched his book a little tighter when he reached the classroom, before putting it back into its designated pocket. His first day at school and it already had a stain! At this rate, he should probably leave it at home, as much as it pained him.

The sound of the closing door pulled him out of his laments. Agreste had followed him, and now stood in front of his desk with a frown that could only mean a shallow lecture on morality.

“Why did you have to be so mean?”, he accused. His childish demeanor would’ve made him roll his eyes, but he’d done that more than enough times already.

“Because she is a thief, a liar and a pain in my ass?”

“It was a misunderstanding!”

“You don’t really believe that.”

Agreste fidgeted.

“But it could have been one.”, he finally conceded. For some reason, it made Felix angry.

“Just so get this right: You know Rossi did it, and you know she framed Marinette for it, and you know she was willing to humiliate her in front of the entire school... yet you want to lecture me for calling her out?”

“It’s not like anybody was hurt!”, the boy deflected. “Do you seriously want to ruin her reputation over a little ink stain? You have your book and your pen back, Marinette is proven innocent, why go after Lila like that?”

Felix shook his head.

“Seriously, Agreste, you are so immature it physically pains me.”

The blond boy backed away, his hands clenched to fists.

“What is your problem, Felix?! You’ve been treating me like this from the moment you arrived here. I thought we could be friends!”

The older model stood up, desperately trying not to lose his temper now.

“We are not friends, Agreste, and we never will be friends, Agreste.”, he pressed out between bared teeth. “You are a shallow, spineless and thoughtless coward who thinks he knows what’s best for everyone and has no problem acting on that assumption, without wasting a thought on their own opinion on the matter. Your arrogance and delusions are a danger for everyone that’s unfortunate enough to call you “friend”, and your double standards make you annoying on top of that!”

Agreste recoiled, looking at him as if he’d personally stabbed him in the back.

“Is this still about your dad?! I told you, I didn’t think-“

“Exactly, you didn’t think! That was supposed to be the best day of my life, and you ruined that without thinking of the consequences.”

His hands were trembling, Felix noticed, and forced them to still.

“You of all people should’ve known,” he continued, keeping his voice lower now, “how much I hate him. And you helped him anyways.”

Taking a deep breath, he sat down just as the bell rang.

“Leave me in peace, Adrien. And don’t you dare try and lecture me again.”

Students began to fill the room one by one. They threw him glances that ranged from wary to hateful, but he ignored them all, concentrating on the boy in front of him. Until finally, Agreste turned around and left.

Marinette didn’t show up for the last two hours that day. Not that he cared about that. He had better things to do than watch over unpunctual, pinpricked and soft-handed classmates. If she weren’t his deskmate, he wouldn’t even have noticed she was missing. Felix was sure of that.

He sighed.

He’d meant it when he’d said sitting in the back was fine with him. But now that he was the only one in the last row, he couldn’t help but feel lonely.

How ridiculous!

He’d gotten along just fine by himself the past few years, and he hated crowds. Solitude was his favourite company, his mother joked from time to time, usually before ruffling his hair. He didn’t plan on changing anything about that.

(Especially not the hair-ruffling part.)

Still.

For some reason, he’d preferred it when Marinette was here.

He took his time leaving the school, trying to find new excuses to never return. His classmates were as dense as granite, he could argue. One girl was outright malicious, and the only one he’d already known was little more than a fancy doormat. The teacher was utterly useless, and the security measures non-existent. He’d been robbed before lunch already!

There sure was no lack of complaints, but for some reason, he hesitated to call his mother. Was it because she’d be disappointed? She wouldn’t force him to go, but he knew she hoped he’d make some friends.

Was it because of his Ego?

If he stayed away, these morons might think he was running from them. But honestly, did he really care about their opinions?

He had almost convinced himself to call when an already far too familiar sight startled him out of his thoughts. There, at the main entrance of the school, just out of sight if you didn’t pay attention, was his missing neighbor.

He didn’t have the time to consciously decide if he wanted to talk to her, his feet had already carried him right next to her. She looked... exhausted. Mentally, of course, the day had been quite stressful. But there was a little sheen of sweat on her forehead, and her hair was messier than this noon.

“You missed History.”, he stated matter-of-fact. Great starter for a conversation, Felix. Wait, did he want to have a conversation?

“Yes, I...”, she scrambled for words, putting a hand on her purse. “I’ll catch up on the subject at home.”

For a moment they were silent.

“How do you feel?”, she asked suddenly and he noticed she was the first to ask him that today. He thought about it, trying to be honest.

“Violated.” And fooled. “My poems are personal, and now they were used as a cheap trick against me. But I’ve calmed down. You?”

She shrugged.

“Nervous, Angry. But I’m better now as well.”

“That’s... good to hear.”

The fell silent again. Then they began to speak at once.

“Thank you-“, they started in unison before noticing the other had spoken as well. Marinette laughed nervously and waved her hands.

“Uh, you go first!”

He cleared his throat.

“Yes, I... Thank you for returning my book.”

“It’s nothing. I found it, now you have it back, no big deal, really.”

Her rambling confirmed it had been quite the big deal to her.

“You knew what the others would think if you gave it back in front of them.” he pressed on. “But you still did it. Why?”

She looked to the side.

“I didn’t want to, at first. There’s been another... incident involving a stolen book a few weeks ago, and I know the real culprit has a way of getting away with it. Since it was in my bag, putting me in a really bad spot, I thought it would be better to get rid of it secretly.”

She looked so ashamed he didn’t have the slightest chance to get angry.

“But a good friend of mine reminded me what had happened to the last student who’d been robbed, and I didn’t want to risk that again. So I thought it would be better to face her- face you directly.”

He nodded slowly.

“So you already knew Rossi is full of it.”

The way she suddenly started to shrink and stammer reminded him of earlier, when Agreste had kept her back in front of Rossi.

“Adrien knows as well?”

She fell silent. Then:

“How did you know?”

“I’m a little insulted you ask that. They’re not exactly hard to see through. Though I’ll have to admit, Rossi had me convinced for a while.”

He eyed the girl in front of him.

“But I still don’t understand why you didn’t speak up against her. You said you were the type to start yelling, didn’t you? Still you let her accuse you in front of everyone.”

Her face turned annoyed, then bitter.

“Then I would’ve exposed her in front of everyone. It wouldn’t have made her better person, and-“

“So what?”

She blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“So what? Who cares about her character improvement. She’s a cheap liar, she’s hurting you, and you owe her nothing.”

“W-Well, what if she gets akumatized? There were two akuma’s on their way to the school before... before Ladybug caught them. Lila is easy to anger.”

He shrugged.

“Then I guess her “best friend” will have to take care of that. What if a criminal could get akumatized if he gets sentenced? Would you let them walk free?”

“Of course not!”

“There you have it.”

She looked surprised, contemplating his words.

“I... guess that makes sense.”

Then she straightened.

“That reminds me, I wanted to thank you too! For, you know, earlier.”

“You’re welcome.” He hesitated. “But don’t get used to it. You’ll have to stand up for yourself, next time.”

He didn’t like people who hid themselves behind others. To his surprise, Marinette nodded with a sigh.

“I know. Don’t look forward to Adrien’s face though. I have to talk to him tomorrow.”

He scoffed.

“Don’t let him talk you down. He has a habit of siding with bullies.”

Uncomfortable she pulled at her jacket.

“It’s not like that! He just... wants everybody to get along.”

“He’s got a skewed definition of that.”

“Well... yeah.”

He thought back to this morning. How fiercely she’d spoken up when he was ignored, and how helpless she’d looked when confronted herself. Of all the people he’d met during his life, she might be the most selfless.

“It can be nice to know someone has your back.”

He sighed.

Fuck solitude.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better... I’m with you in this. As your...” he struggled with the word, “friend.”

The smile on Marinette’s face made it worth it, though.

“Really?”

“Yes”, he sighed. How had he gotten himself into this mess? “But I doubt I can be of much help. As of today, I’ve officially lost our classmates’ favour.”

“Oh”, she said less happily. Then she snorted. “Hey, you managed to hold it up to lunchtime! That’s something, right?”

He shook his head, surprised at his own smile.

“I’m in peak condition. I would have expected to fall out of their good graces before the first break!”

“See? You just set your personal high score!”

Joking around with Marinette felt... light. Easy. Usually, he hated being around people, and in conversations, he usually came off rude. But now... this felt natural. And he liked it.

So when he arrived home, still lightheaded from actually making a friend (despite his determination to not get invested in this “school” experiment) he texted his mother.

“You’ve won”

- - -

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