#THEY SHOULD HAVE KISSED. THROUGH THE BARBWIRE

[crowthis]

'they should have kissed through the barbedwire' Yeah. Yes

[friendly-books]

Dresden files Grave Peril live blog

Grave Peril

Michael! Weird how he’s just now showing up in book 3

Michael is a Harry/Susan shipper

I’m with Michael. Harry should tell Susan that he loves her

Who’s Elaine? 

Not the maternity ward :(

Harry fighting a ghost is cool

Poor Agatha Hagglethorn and her daughter :(

Why does Harry think his soul is bad?

Trip to the Nevernever. Oh am I going to meet Lea?

“You’re right. Sorry. Holy shit,” I breathed “heckhounds” pg. 58 Ha 

“Long estranged godson” pg. 64 Why are they estranged?

Is it bad that I kinda want a fae godmother?

“I can’t believe we’re in jail” pg. 72 Ha 

Oh no Michael got full named. Why doesn’t Charity like Harry? She’s being really mean to Harry. 

“I’d never said them to anyone I didn’t lose” pg. 81 Well now I’m sad :(

Where’s Mister? 

Vampire time 

Not Bianca :( 

“Yeah, their saliva’s some kind of addictive narcotic” pg. 84 First Ew Second I guess that helps them when they’re attacking people. Third that’s terrifying 

Why would Bianca invite Harry? She doesn’t like him. I’m suspicious. If this is “official” business why invite Harry? He’s not a warden of the White Council.

“The safety of all invited guests is assured, by word of the assembled court.” pg. 86 Hmmm are we talking about guest rights here? I need more information about this. What counts as safety? Why just words, why not written? Invited guests so unless you have an invitation you’re in trouble? I guess Harry isn’t gate crashing. Bianca is up to something. This is definitely giving me trap vibes. Bianca is probably the reason the ghosts are acting up. As with the previous two Big Bad guys they were behind the “unrelated” problems being connected i.e.: Victor and the drugs and Denton all the murders. I doubt she’d turn him. Maybe it has something to do with Michael and his sword? 

Yay Mister is safe

Susan, why would you want to go to a party with vampires after what you’ve just seen? Please listen to Harry. He knows what he’s talking about. I know you got a career boost from the werewolves but you aren’t Lois Lane and Harry isn’t Superman he can’t save you from everything so please don’t go to the ball.

Lea stop kissing Harry. It's weird. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been smacked in the face with remembering when a book takes place than this quote “Wait until some poor sap who got AIDS from a blood transfusion breaths his last” pg. 121 I was not expecting that. Very late 90’s or early 2000’s. When do these books take place? 

“An unmarked car sat in my driveway” pg. 126 my sheer level of disappointment when I read on and realized I wasn’t getting Marcone was immeasurable  

“Rudy’s clean cut good looks” pg. 126 Bi Harry 7

No, not the birds :( 

Rudouph is the worst 

Poor Micky :( The barbwire curse is scary

Murph is so cool with The Sight

Bob being scared is worrying 

“What could possibly go wrong?” pg. 172 Harry why would you say that?

“And then droplets of her spittle fell onto my throat, my cheek, and into my mouth” pg. 183 oh no I’ve never been more happy that Harry destroyed a building

Why would Bicana send two of her maybe powerful red court buddies (subordinates?) to find Lydia? Maybe Lydia knows too much? Maybe Lydia is one of Bicana girls? 

“I’d learned to block out pain, when necessary. Studying under Justin, it had been a practical necessity.” pg. 188 Not a big fan of Justin 

Scary dream

Oh no it ate Harry’s magic

Oh no it disguised itself as Harry 

Oh no Murph 

Oh no Charity 

What pact did Harry make with Lea? How is Harry going to get out of this new pact with Lea? 

How am I only 48% of the way through? So much has happened? And we still haven’t gotten to the ball

Oh no the baby is coming 

Oh no Lea has Amoracchius

Harry’s mom got him a fae godmother? Harry’s mom makes some weird allies 

How are they going to fight Nightmare and get Amoracchius  back?

Michael, Harry’s a little busy can you have Susan leave a message

“It’s thine heart” pg. 278 Ha

It’s party time 

“Hell’s bells, I noticed how good he looked” pg. 290 Bi Harry 8

Thomas! Yay! 

Wait wait did Harry just talk about how good his brother looks?!? 

“Not just a vampire,” I said, “a cheesy vampire.” pg. 297 Ha 

Bianca’s dress is a fire hazard 

All this talk of hospitality makes me think that’s how the vampire-white council war started. Someone broke hospitality. Why are you drinking the wine Harry? It could be spiked? You don’t know what’s in it or where it’s been. It could be roofied. “The wine is poisoned” pg. 308 Aaaahhh!!!! This is bad. Oh no it’s the venom 

Harry please listen to Micheal and Thomas and leave the party

“We’re here to get information, not bring the house down on a bunch of nasties” pg. 313 but Harry your really good bringing the house down

Dragons are a thing in this universe? Cool! Michael killed a dragon, cool!

“Harry, you're not the biggest kid on the block. You’ve got to learn to be a little more polite” pg. 318 Ha like that will ever happen 

SUSAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!? You didn’t get an invitation…You forged an invitation.

SUSAN YOU NEED TO LEAVE 

Oh no 

No Susan you can’t protect yourself here

Did Lea just try to bargain for Molly? Oh no Lea made Susan forget Harry

Who’s Mavra? Well you don’t need to call Mavra an it. That was rude.

No Susan, you didn’t know the risks before coming to this party. Susan, Harry and Michael aren’t chauvinist pigs they’re trying to help 

Vampire wizard?!? That is cool but bad for Harry 

Gift giving time

So the vampires want a sort of false flag operation? Maybe not a false flag but pressure Harry to attack.

“Lords of the Outer Night” pg. 354 that’s important not sure what it is but with those capital letters that’s important 

How is it Harry’s fault that you (Bianca) killed Rachel?

“Here lies Harry Dresden, he died doing the right thing” That’s a very accurate epitaph. Bianca knows Harry well enough to know that. That’s some villain vibes to gift someone a tombstone 

They draw weapons and the vampires immediately start attacking it’s like they’re trying to start a war. 

Oh no Justine 

Thomas don’t listen to Bianca. THOMAS why would you do that to Susan?!? Oh no Bicana didn’t keep up her end of the deal who would have thought 

Time to burn some vampires. That’s a lot of fire. Bicana isn’t the fire hazard it’s Harry 

Here comes Harry guilt complex 

Lydia what’s up? Nightmare in disguise? Possessed? I’m with Harry, Thomas needs to back off from Lydia 

I like this mushroom plan 

Does everyone know Harry’s mom but Harry? The demon knew her and now Lea 

“The handsome vampire” pg. 440 Bi Harry 9

I think you should all stick together. Oh no Harry’s surrounded 

Why is Bicana naked?

Why are they taking Harry’s clothes off? 

NO NO NO don’t like the end of chapter thirty-three

NOPE NOPE NOPE don’t like the beginning of thirty-four 

I’m crying :( Poor Harry, I don't like the implications. Can someone anyone please help Harry he needs help

Poor Justine, where are her clothes?

“I heard them taking you. Playing with you, for two hours maybe” pg. 453 I really don’t like those implications. 

Rachel ghost to the rescue…or not 

Kravos go away 

Oh no Susan got half turned. Yay Harry told Susan that he loved her! 

The ghost fight was cool!

Why would the Reds want to start a war with the White Council?

The ghosts fighting is cool!

Awww they named their child after Harry! :)

“What goes around comes around. And sometimes you get what’s coming around. He paused for a moment, frowning faintly, pursuing his lips. “And sometimes you are what’s coming around. You see what I mean” pg. 506 Does that mean that Harry is the consequences for the monster? 

“I don’t want you far away marry me” pg. 510 awww Harry asked Susan to marry her 

“And they were always the same: darkness, trapped, with vampires all around me, laughing their hissing laughter. I’d wake up, screaming and crying.” pg. 511 Poor Harry I’m sobbing 

Well I guess the White Council is at war with the Red Court now. 

Final thoughts 

I wished I had Marcone in this book. I need my Marcone fix. Glad I got to meet Michael. Charity needs to calm down. The Red Court vampires are terrifying. I’m upset that I was right about the party being a trap and Bicana. I’m upset that Susan got turned. More Bi Harry the counter is up to 9. Murph looked so cool with The Sight like a guardian angel! Not a fan of Justin. I want to know more about Lea. I hope I get to see more Thomas. Does he know that Harry’s his brother? Is he just messing with Harry? Why would he do that to Susan? I love Harry’s costume. Bianca had it coming. I kinda love Bianca’s gift to Harry. I don’t know if I’m reading too much into the implications but I don’t like them at all. I’ll probably make a whole separate comment about it because I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about it. Harry has a bit of a guilt complex/chronic hero syndrome. Now about this war. As vampires they’ve probably been around for a while so they know about the White Council. Why would they pick a fight with them? They must think they can win against them so they must have had a plan like this in the making for a while. I assume the White Council will try and make peace, maybe throw Harry under the bus as a way to appease the Reds and get rid of their (Council’s) black sheep. I need to know more. Susan went a bit too far in her investigative reporting and it came back to bite her. She’s only half turned so I assume she has some powers but not all and has some weaknesses but not to the extent of a full Red Vampire. I’m sad Harry and Susan broke up but I know she’ll come back and have Maggie. I thought the fights were good and I liked the world building. I’m looking forward to a more central storyline/plot with the war. It'll be different from the sort of monster of the week that I got from the first two books. Despite my several “oh no’s” I did enjoy this book and I’m looking forward to reading the next one.

[bloodybigshiplucille]

The Ghost of Her

Chapter 4: I’d Leave It All Behind If I Could Follow

Maggie and Negan have to let go off each other but will they actually be able to stay away from each other?

(Disclaimer: Neggie is a very controversial ship. If you don't like it, don't read it, just be kind to each other :) )

It’s ecstasy. It’s pure bliss. The slight pressure of Negan’s lips against Maggie’s. The gentle movement of his mouth against hers. His tongue that’s slowly tracing the seam of her lips asking for entrance. It’s so intoxicating that Maggie forgets who’s lips she’s kissing. She forgets her argument with Hershel and why she didn’t wanted to come to Negan’s house in the first place. Only when he can’t help himself anymore and lets out a moan against Maggie’s lips and she feels his hands on her hips, she remembers. She remembers that only a few days ago his wife was still alive and expecting their first baby. She remembers the rage in her son’s eyes when he realized that his mother was seeing the man that murdered his father and for the first time in along time she remembers a barbwire baseball bat. Maggie places one hand on Negan’s chest and gently pushes him away from her. „What’s wrong? Are you okay?“ Negan quickly asks obviously taken aback. „I… Negan we can’t do this. You lost your wife a couple of days ago, you’re not thinking right at the moment.“ „Maggie, please…“ But Maggie doesn’t listen. She quickly gets up from the sofa and grabs her jacket. „I’m sorry Negan but I have to go.“ And just like that Negan is left on his sofa alone. Despite having just kissed the woman he had been pining after for longer than he wants to admit, he’s feeling a lot worse than before. Maggie’s right. He just lost his wife, they shouldn’t be doing this and even though Annie and Lucille are gone he feels like he’s betraying both of them. Fuck, he needs to stay away from her.

When Maggie walks through the door of her own home she hasn’t even realized that tears started escaping her eyes. How is it fair that the first man she’s kissed in over 10 years is the one man on this planet that she should definitely not be kissing? How is it fair that of all men on this planet, well at least of all still existing men, she has to decide to develop feelings for the murder of her husband? „Mom?“ As Maggie turns around she spots Hershel coming from their kitchen. Maggie quickly wipes her eyes with her sleeve hoping Hershel didn’t see it. „Are you okay, Mom?“ „I’m okay, honey, don’t worry,“ Maggie quickly assures her son. „Is it because of how I acted yesterday? I’m sorry, please don’t be angry with me,“ Tears start rising in Hershel’s eyes as he blames himself for making his mother cry. „Hershel, baby, no,“ Maggie walks towards her now crying son and quickly takes him in her arms. Hershel clings onto his mother like his life depends on it. Even though her son’s obviously having a breakdown over their argument Maggie can’t help but feel relieved. She’s relieved that she can at least stop worrying about one thing in her life. „It’s fine, Hershel, I’m not mad at you. I just want to you talk to me from now on when something’s bothering you so we can discuss it like adults, okay? I know the past years weren’t easy for us but as long as we stick together I know that we’ll be fine.“

The next couple of days things pretty much went back to normal, at least between Maggie and Hershel. Dinner time wasn’t awkward as hell anymore and Hershel went back to his humorous self that Maggie loves so much. But while things at home seem to be back to normal and Maggie starts working in the community again she can’t help but yearn for a part of her that’s missing. Ever since her and Negan’s kiss she’s been avoiding his house like it’s going to swallow her whole the second she even looks at it. Despite knowing that keeping away from Negan is the right thing to do, it’s almost unbearable. Whenever she’s not occupied enough her mind starts slipping to their shared kiss. To the way his stubble graced her skin, the way his hands held her close and the taste of his lips against her. When she’s alone at night she catches herself imagining what else would have happened if she hadn’t pushed him away. The sound of his moan still lingers in her ears causing her to relieve the constant tingle between her legs on her own. She also misses Jodie a lot. The little bundle of joy really grew on her and she constantly worries about the little girl being fine. She’s praying every night that Negan is doing okay with her.

The other night Maggie is preparing dinner while Hershel is doing his homework (something Maggie hasn’t ever seen coming) when there’s a knock on the door. „I got it, Mom,“ Hershel quickly gets up from his chair by the dinner table, obviously glad about getting a chance to neglect his homework. Maggie continues cutting a pepper when Hershel calls out for her. „Mom, I think you should come to the door.“ Hershel’s mood shifted and he suddenly sounds stern. Maggie quickly drops her knife and heads over to their front door to check on what or who disorientated her son. It’s him. Of course it’s him. Maggie looks at the man with the handsome face and the salt and pepper beard she’s been obsessing over in the dead of night. In his arms he’s holding his daughter. „I’m sorry, Maggie, I wouldn’t have come if I had another choice but I don’t know where else to go,“ Negan explains Maggie with tired eyes. He looks as drained as he did the day he found out about Annie’s passing. His hair is disheveled and the bags under his eyes have gotten deeper. Despite knowing that Hershel is probably eavesdropping on them at the moment her mother instincts are kicking in as soon as she spots the little baby in her father’s arms. „It’s fine, what’s going on?“ Maggie asks Negan while opening the door wider, inviting them in. „She refuses to sleep. No matter what I try, she just doesn’t sleep. She naps for maybe 5 minutes and then starts whining immediately. She doesn’t sleep, I don’t sleep. Now we’re both cranky and I just… I don’t know what to do anymore,“ Negan pours his heart out as soon as he stepped into Maggie’s home. „You should have come earlier, this isn’t healthy for neither of you,“ Maggie immediately takes Jodie from Negan’s arms and starts cradling her. „C’mon, let’s go upstairs.“ Negan follows Maggie to her bedroom on the second floor. „Lay down,“ Maggie orders him pointing at her bed. Negan studies the flowery bedding for a second before looking at Maggie quizzically. „Jodie needs to sleep, I’m fine…“ Negan tries arguing but Maggie places her hand on Negan’s chest and pushes him effortlessly down onto her bed. „You need to sleep, too, I’m not going to deal with both of you suffering from sleep deprivation.“ „But what about…“ „Your daughter is already asleep,“ She’s right. Negan spots his little girl peacefully slumbering in Maggie’s arms and feels the weight of endless sleepless nights lifted from him. „Thank god,“ He groans out and falls back onto the bed. „C’mon, under the covers you go,“ Maggie can’t help but smile at the man in her bed. She gently lays Jodie next to Negan and tucks both father and daughter in. „I’ll go and continue preparing dinner. I’ll leave some for you for when you wake up.“ As soon as Maggie starts heading out of the door she notices Negan’s eyes getting heavy and he already starts drifting into a deep sleep. The second Maggie hits the final step of the stairs Hershel is already blocking her way. „Why is he here?“ Hershel asks reproachful. „They needed help,“ Maggie walks past Hershel already knowing that he won’t be satisfied with the answer. „Couldn’t they have found help elsewhere? Why are you helping him?" „Hershel, I’m not helping Negan, I’m helping Jodie. She and you aren’t too different, you know? Don’t just look at her as Negan’s child. Consider her a kid that lost a parent very early on. Should we really not help her?“ Maggie watches Hershel’s features getting softer, her words clearly getting to him until he nods his head. „Okay, I’m fine with helping her but don’t expect me to be fine with him in our house.“ „I don’t. This is really mature of you, I’m really proud of you, my son,“ Maggie can’t help but smile at Hershel and give him a huge kiss on his cheek which Hershel reluctantly accepts.

Two hours later Maggie decides to check on her guests in her bedroom. Negan has shifted Jodie from her sleeping position next to him so she’s now lying on his chest. While her father is still asleep Jodie’s big brown eyes have started checking her surroundings, clearly irritated by the unknown room she's in. As soon as she spots Maggie leaning against the door frame her eyes widen and she starts smiling at the clearly familiar face. „Hi, sweetheart,“ Maggie whispers hoping she won’t wake Negan but of course Jodie starts wiggling in Negan’s arms as soon as Maggie’s attention lays on her. Negan stirs awake when he notices his daughter shifting. When he notices the mattress dipping next to him he fully blinks the sleep in his eyes away. „Shhh, I got her, sleep on,“ Maggie whispers, takes Jodie and lays her down on her own chest. Negan shifts and turns onto his side so he has a better view on Maggie and his daughter. He gently strokes over Jodie’s head while paying attention that he’s not touching Maggie inappropriately. „Are you feeling better?“ Maggie asks the sleepy man next to her. „A lot, thank you, you saved my ass. Again,“ Negan chuckles. „How can I thank you?“„You don’t need to thank me.“ „If there’s ever something you need, feel free to ask me, okay?“ „Okay,“ Maggie smiles at him genuinely. „You two can stay the night if you want to.“ „I can’t accept that, you’ve already done way to much and,“ „Shut up! You’re staying or I’ll pin you down on this mattress.“ „Well, I’m not stopping you from that,“ Negan grins cheekily. „Oh, stop it,“ Maggie laughs and hits Negan gently in the arm. He quickly grabs her hand and hold it tightly so she can’t continue hitting him, however instead of letting go once she stops fighting him he lays her hand on his chest and gently strokes over her fingers. The now familiar tingle starts settling in Maggie’s stomach once more and starts spreading downwards. She clandestinely squeezes her legs together, hoping Negan wouldn’t notice the effect he has on her. Maggie’s heart almost sets out when Negan lowers his head, however shortly before their lips have the chance to collide his head goes even lower and he gently presses a kiss against his daughter’s head who’s now peacefully sleeping on Maggie’s chest. Maggie’s breathing intensifies with Negan being so close to her. „Good night, Maggie,“ He whispers as his head lifts towards her once more. „Good night, Negan“ Maggie answers almost inaudibly. Negan lays his head back down on his side of the bed and slightly nuzzles his head against Maggie’s right arm. Maggie’s heart is about to beat out of her chest, her entire body has stiffen. If one thing’s for sure it’s that she won’t get any sleep tonight.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

[marvelobsessedteenager]

All The Hurt - Chapter 6

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”

Word count: 4.9k

A/n: This one’s gonna hurt..we’re nearing the end :3

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

You were driving recklessly, you knew. You were in no condition to drive, the world around you blurring into blurbs of mixed sounds and colors, and in the middle of it all was black smoke, like a monster of threatened death. Your eyes were glued to it, not even leaving it when you passed multiple red lights, nor when you went way above the speed limit, nor when the camera had caught you doing so.

All you thought about was him. You couldn’t help but imagine the worst-case scenario, which only made you drive faster, pure terror gripping your poor heart in painful ways.

You sloppily drifted the car into a parking spot once you got there and stared up into the smoke, already feeling the fumes creep up your lungs. It looked much bigger up close, and before you knew it, you were slamming your car door and running into the flames, completely forgetting to lock your car.

Fear was shaking you to your core as memories of Delmar’s and DC made their way to the top of your head, but you attempted to push them down.

For Peter.

Heavy smoke filled your lungs and caused your eyes to water as you ripped a part of your dress and tied it around your nose and mouth, making your way through hell on Earth. Fire, scalding beneath your bare feet, lined their way through the sand, aggressively marking their territory, and only growing angrier by the minute.

You coughed and hissed through the blaze, screaming out Peter’s name in hopes that he would answer. That he would be alive to do so. Your throat was raw and burned as you continued calling out for him, wafting away the thick smoke that blocked your vision. The fire crept up towards the ends of your dress, causing most of the fabric at the bottom to turn into ashes.

It was difficult to even see, let alone breathe, but the sound of gruff coughing provided you with a path. You followed the noise, feet pushing hard against the dull sand that threatened to pull you in, but you ran anyway.

You were heaving by the time that you saw them. Two figures lay on their backs, one significantly smaller than the other - one you recognized.

You fell down beside him, “P-Peter?” Your eyes scanned his face, bloodied and bruised with scabs that littered it.

Please, please.

“Peter?” You asked again, watching closely for any movement, “Hey! Hey, wake up!” You slapped his cheek a couple times before picking up his arm and letting it go, watching it lifelessly drop beside him.

No.

You placed your hand on his chest, moving it around fervently, panic starting to settle in when you didn’t hear anything. You shakily pushed two fingers against his neck, praying and praying that you’d feel a pulse. It didn’t matter if it was strong or not. You just wanted to feel something.

Anything.

And yet, you felt nothing.

Nothing at all.

You breathed heavily, starting to feel tears of anger and immense sadness make their way to your eyes, but you refused to give up. You coughed some more, feeling your chest tighten painfully as you climbed on top of Peter, hands above the center of his chest and knees on either side of his body.

Thirty compressions, two rescue breaths.

One, two, three, four.

You counted and counted, feeling like someone had wrapped barbwires around your throat and pulled until your face felt wet. Your tears fell down onto his bloodied cheeks, creating a clear trail through the gathered dirt.

Twenty-nine, thirty.

You pressed your lips against his chapped ones, the taste of metal on your tongue as you supplied him with the limited air that remained within you, pulling back to see if it did anything.

Still nothing.

“Come on, Parker.” You continued pushing, harder this time, "Come on, Pete, breathe, breathe, please! Don’t leave me, come on, come on! Wake up, Peter!”

You screamed out in agony as you pressed against his chest, your arms aching and sore but not ready to let go.

Save him.

Eight, nine, ten.

If only you’d gotten there sooner.

Eleven, twelve, thirteen.

You stared up into the night sky, and you couldn’t help but plead its creator for a miracle. "Turn back time!" You cried in between heaves, "I’ll do anything. Please!”

It felt as if the world was against you, using Peter as a way to lure you into another world of emotions and rollercoasters, and now they were taking him from you - again. But this time, you had the chance to keep him. If you’d been here sooner, maybe you could’ve saved the boy who laid below you.

“I love you.” You bawled, the heel of your hand burning into his septum, “Please don’t leave me. I need you. I need you.”

Two rescue breaths.

You pulled back, bottom lip shaking as you held his still face in your hands, wiping away the dirt and saltwater that covered the pale skin below, feeling the hope you had within you dull. You placed your forehead on his, noses touching as you breathed into him one more time.

Just one more time.

You pulled back, once again staring to see any movement. Anything.

But there was nothing.

Nothing but a black, endless void of silence - a silence that could’ve been filled with his laughter and joy that could light up a planet. His stupid stories that he would forget he told you, but you wouldn’t tell him, just to hear his excitement when he said it.

You’d give anything to hear his voice again.

You hugged him tightly as your head heavily fell against his frozen chest, harsh sobs wracking through you, accompanied by unimaginable pain and memories you were too fond of to forget. The world spun around you, and you laid there with the faded love of your life. He was gone, and it was all because of you.

“I’m sorry,” you wheezed, “I’m so sorry, Peter.”

You couldn’t save him.

This is all your fault.

Quick breaths made their way in and out as you felt your body on the brink of a shut down from the lack of oxygen, hands digging into his suit as your eyes began to slowly close while you whispered apologies through little heaves of air.

Until you felt an inflation.

Then a deflation.

You slowly sat up, fighting through the tiredness as you placed your hand on his chest, feeling a weak pulse drum beneath your fingertips.

Just to make sure you weren’t going insane, you pressed your ear against his chest.

Thump-thump, thump-thump.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that came from you. You cried, placing a gentle kiss on Peter’s forehead, feeling a small puff of air come from his mouth as you did so.

“I got you,” You mumbled against his head, “we’re okay.”

A low grunt came from beside you, and you wiped your eyes and looked to your right, squinting through the smoke. A man with much fewer bruises than Peter lay beside you, just beginning to twist and turn.

Boiling anger ran through your veins, your hands shaking with the urge to murder Liz’s dad, and you would have done it had you not needed to leave as fast as you could.

The air around you was too hard to breathe, and if you didn’t leave, you would’ve saved Peter for nothing.

Quickly, you tore the web-shooters off of Peter’s wrist and tried your best to web Liz’s dad up as much as you could. While doing so, his teary eyes locked with yours, watching you in defeat. He didn’t even try to fight back.

You shook your head at him, coughed some more, then ripped off another part of your dress, using the piece of fabric to cover Peter’s mouth and nose. You then proceeded to carry Peter on your back as you weaved through the thick smoke, falling a couple of times. Though your legs ached and your lungs burned, you kept going, eventually falling to your knees and crawling with Peter’s body on top of you until you reached your car, carefully laying him down on the backseats.

You shook your head of the dizziness and drove away, leaving the mess behind for the authorities to deal with.

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

For hours you sat beside Peter on your bed and cleaned his bloody face with a wet rag, the shock still bolting through you like lightning, screams and ragged breaths echoing in your empty mind. Your fingers tingled with memories of the vacancy they felt beneath them when Peter’s chest was still, when he gave no evidence that he was alive. It was almost like you were reliving the memories like they happened years ago. But it was so vivid. You’d stare into space, sharp pains slicing through you as they’d appear before you.

You watched him like an eagle, worried that his breathing would somehow stop. You worried he’d slip away like he did hours ago. You worried he’d die, and that you wouldn’t be able to save him again.

You contemplated leaving him, knowing that you should take some time to care for yourself, but your feet couldn’t show you out the door. They were stuck, frozen in spot as you watched his chest rise and fall. The bags under his eyes stood out against his pale skin, and you wondered how often he slept.

If he slept.

You didn't know what you’d say when he’d wake up. You didn’t even know if he’d wake up. Shivers went down your spine when you thought of that possibility, but you knew you shouldn’t dwell on it, so you tried not to.

You felt a sudden dip in the empty spot beside you, but didn’t dare look away from Peter. A gentle hand placed itself on your shoulder, and a soft voice followed, “Y/n..” Jane called out. You continued to blankly blink at Peter, and only realized how dry your eyes were when Jane moved her hand and cupped your face, guiding your vision to hers.

“Y/n, honey, you need to go wash up. I’ll look after him.”

“I’m good, J.” You said. You trusted Jane with your life, and therefore trusted her with Peter’s, too, but you simply couldn’t leave him. You let it happen once. You should’ve stopped him, or gone after him the moment he left. But you didn’t. And look where that got you.

You were still dirty and covered in debris with first and second degree burns on the soles of your feet, but you paid them no attention. When you parked outside your house, you ran up to the door and rang it as many times as possible. You made it back to your car, crying out for Jane’s help and ignoring all questions she was throwing your way. You both carried Peter to your room, and only when you told her you’d change his clothes did she leave.

You were lucky Peter used to undress in front of you without a care in the world, but still felt awkward as you replaced his suit with some of his clothes you still had in your closet - ones you wore so frequently it smelt like you instead of him.

Jane came by afterward to help stitch him up, and spoke no words. She didn’t need to, though. It was clear she understood everything. She gave you clothes to change into, and stayed with Peter while you changed in a record-breaking time. You hadn’t washed yourself, too scared to leave Peter for too long.

“Sweetie..” She sighed, “you can’t do this. You need to take care of yourself, too.”

“I’m fine, Jane. I just need to be here.”

She gave you a sympathetic smile and a small nod, “Let me go get you some water, okay?” She stood tall before giving your shoulder a squeeze, leaving you alone with an unconscious body - one that could stay that way for God knows how long.

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

It was just past 3 AM when you heard the low sound of groaning. You were nearly asleep by the time that Peter’s eyes slowly fluttered open, no doubt fighting the soreness of his body. He was lucky he didn’t obtain any serious injuries.

He was lucky he was even alive.

“You’re awake.” You said, an eerie numbness coating your words. You said it in a way that was calm. Too calm for someone who held their dead ex-best friend in her arms. You shivered at the memory and wrapped your arms around yourself, standing up and going over to grab the glass of water Jane had brought over.

“Y/n?” He squinted his eyes at you, his voice husky and dry as he began coughing. You rushed to his side and helped him sit up, placing the rim of the mug against his lips. He downed the water and sighed in relief, head lolling back against the headboard.

“Where am I?” He said, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Look around you, Pete.” You gestured to your surroundings. His head followed his eyes’ directions as they wandered around your room. Not much has changed since the last time he’d been here, save for a few more books on your bookshelf, a new rug, and-

And you took down the photos and cards. The board you both spent hours on.

His head cocked to the side, a rush of pain shooting up his chest. But this sting wasn’t from the fight. This wasn’t something that could be healed with antibiotics.

You noticed him zeroing in on the bare wall and cleared your throat loudly to divert his attention.

“You-” died, “-you passed out. Next to the wings dude and I saw and-“

“Mr. Stark’s stuff!” He realized, planting his feet on the ground and wobbly standing up, grabbing the top of the headboard to stabilize himself as he did, “I-I have to-“

You gently pushed him back down onto the bed, “No, no, no. You got the guy.”

He blinked up at you, confusion swirling in those warm brown eyes until he put two and two together, eyebrows creasing.

“How did you know where I was?” He asked, looking up at you with accusing eyes, “H-how am I here?”

You bit your lip and took your shaky hands off of his shoulders, knowing he knew the answer. He just wanted to hear you say it. The thumping of your heart became louder in your ears, but you replied anyway.

“I...” You gulped, “I went after you.”

“What?! Why?” He incredulously asked, his voice rising to his height as he towered above you, fire burning beneath his piercing stare, "Why would you do that?! It could’ve been dangerous, Y/n! You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“I could’ve gotten hurt?!” You yelled back, blood suddenly boiling, "I’m fine, have you seen yourself? You were bloodied and bruised and passed out beside him and he was awake! He would’ve murdered your ass! I believe it’s called thank you!”

“Thank you?! I had it handled!” His feet bumped into yours, head bowing until his nose nearly touched yours. You saw an angry vein popping from his neck to his forehead, pushing against the skin and you wanted to do nothing but smooth it back into its place. But you were too furious to do so.  

“Oh, yeah, it totally looked like things were under control considering a giant ass plane crashed out of nowhere, you were surrounded by fire and smoke, and there was a guy with wings who was ready to tear you to pieces!”

“Why do you care anyway?! Why are you trying to help? You just suddenly stopped wanting to make my life miserable? For what? To get even more popular? To tell your friends that you helped Spider-Man? You’re as fake as they come!”

The color drained from his face the second the words slipped, guilt and regret painted all over his features as he stood in shock at his own words.

And that, you realized, was your last straw.

You backed away from him like he had burnt you, letting out an empty laugh as he shook his head, ready to take back what he said, but now it was your turn to speak.

“Wait-"

“Fake? You wanna talk about fake? If I was fake, why haven’t I told anyone your secret? Why haven’t I just told the entire school who you really are? Why haven’t I told the world that the person behind the mask is really a selfish, naive high school teenager? Hell, if I was “fake” I would’ve let you die, because maybe then my life can piece itself back together after you fucking tore it apart!"

Your heart raced against your ribcage, adrenaline pumping from your head to your toes at lightning speed. You felt it everywhere as you backed him into the corner of your room.

You knew you had to stop and pick up the pieces of dignity he had left of you but you couldn’t. You couldn’t stop for the life of you. The confessions that tumbled from your lips were strong enough to push the little voice in your head that was begging you to stop.

This isn’t right, it said.

He was dead. He died. And here you were, screaming your head off at him.

But you just couldn’t stop the pain from forming into words. They only got even more raw and real as you fired at him, aiming deep into his soul directly into his heart with the intention to painfully crush.

And he felt it.

“What on fucking earth do you think happened to me after you vanished from my life, huh? What was I supposed to think when my best friend of years just decides to drop me and pretend like he doesn’t know me? What’s worse than that is that you carried on like I never meant anything to you! But you meant the fucking world to me! I was in love with you for fuck’s sake! But apparently, I wasn’t even good enough for you to give me a reason as to why you left, or good enough for you to stay! You of all fucking people should not talk about being fake!”

Your voice cracked and ached, but you showed no sympathy, even after his shoulders shrunk in their place. Frankly, all you saw were red and blue. Two dangerous colors that shouldn’t ever mix.

“You died, Peter! YOU DIED! You laid there with no fucking heartbeat, no breaths, absolutely nothing! What was I supposed to do? Just leave you? I wish I had the heart to do that but I don’t! I fucking don’t! No matter how much you hurt me, I’ll still be there for you like the fucking dumbass that I am because I’m still in love with you and I always fucking will be, even when I shouldn’t be!”

You were panting and out of breath, like you’d just ran laps upon laps. Your throat was in desperate need of liquid, head pounding against your skull painfully as your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, like someone was holding it down.

His eyes seem to water, but you couldn’t see past the buildup of angry tears that gathered on your waterline and dropped onto the rug below you.

Peter looked shocked, guilty, and afraid. He’d never seen you blow up like this before, much less on him. But he’d also never truly known just how badly he hurt you. No fight has ever been this big. No fight had ever shattered his heart and swathed him up in remorse as he watched you furiously wipe at the tears that had slipped past the barriers of your eyes.

The tears he caused, and that was enough to make his throat tighten and mind turn into mush.

You silently stepped back when you realized what you’d said, berating yourself for exposing your secret. You confessed. You confessed more than you should’ve, and you regretted it.

You were right back to square one. You didn’t want to look at him. You still felt that burning rage of hatred inside you, only this time it wasn’t directed towards him. It was directed towards yourself, for all the times you chose to listen to your heart over your brain.

Now was one of them.

And because of that, you knew he couldn’t look at you the same way again. You couldn’t look at yourself the same way, either.

“Y/n,” He called out, voice breaking like his demeanor, "I didn’t-"

“Get out.” You demanded, voice stern despite how broken and vulnerable you appeared.

He faltered, hand pausing in the air from when it was going to reach out to grab yours, “What?”

“Get out of my house, Parker.”

A beat of tense silence passed. You didn’t want to know what he was thinking. You knew what he was going to say, and you didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want him to apologize and make amends. You weren’t going to set yourself up for failure and heartbreak again, especially if he didn’t leave at this moment.

He wasn’t going to say it back, and that was enough to make you hate yourself for loving him for all these years, all the while he didn’t feel a single thing back.

“Y/n, just listen to me-"

“I said-” you furiously grabbed his mask and suit and threw them at his chest, only getting angrier when he actually caught them, “-get out! Now!”

“Y/n/n,” He said, sounding like he whimpering in pain. But you knew he didn’t care. It was all an act. He showed how he truly felt about you in the heat of the moment, and those words can never be forgotten.

“Don’t call me that. Don’t fucking call me that. Just get the fuck out of my house.” You walked to the door and held it open for him, anxiously waiting for when he’d leave as your fingers fervently drummed against the handle.

He sighed, his fists clutching the fabric so hard it would burst if it were glass. A gulp could be heard as he padded across the room, pausing to whisper ’I’ll talk to you soon' and walking out, flinching when you slammed the door behind him.

You paced the length of your room with ragged breaths and your hands on your head, feeling an onset of a meltdown as the words made their way in and out of your mind. Hot tears heavily weighed you down until you fell to the ground beside your bed, cradling your knees to your chest and rocking back and forth, letting out the most painful wail you ever have in your life.

That night, you cried your hardest, the tears enough to fill buckets upon buckets. You wept until you were left out of breath, until you were defeated by the tiredness.

You were just...

Done.

Your exhaustion quickly knocked you out as you fell asleep on the ground with smeared makeup, a dirty face, and a clogged nose, unaware of the concerned eyes that watched you from your balcony with an aching heart.

——————————-

You somehow ended up in your bed with a foggy memory, the morning sun welcoming you with its rays that warmed you up, spewing a happy yellow across your tired body through the openings of your curtains. They promised you joy, and for a moment, you delightedly basked in them.

Until the memories of last night hit you like an oncoming bus, causing a throbbing, sinking feeling to lodge itself in your chest. What was worse was when you remembered today was Monday, a school day in which you’d most probably see him again.

You sighed and stretched your sore limbs, trudging your way to the bathroom, passing by the mirror that hung on the wall.

Then you backtracked.

You tilted your head in confusion, fingers tracing the clear skin of your face and arms. You were unable to recall if you wiped your smudged makeup off last night, let alone cleaned yourself, but beside your mirror was a garbage can filled with used wipes, so you shrugged it off and assumed you did.

Guess Jane must’ve taken care of me, you thought.

You went through your morning routine and got ready for school, making your way down the stairs with a heavy backpack and an even heavier heart, your stomach vibrating in a dull pain in anxiety. The sound of sizzling made its way into your ears the same time you caught a whiff of eggs. You paused for a moment, wondering if you should sneak out the back door.

You hadn’t expected Jane to be awake this early. Usually, she was dead asleep - she wasn’t much of a morning person - so her being awake alarmed you.

Regardless, you walked into the kitchen and flopped down on one of the stools, placing the backpack on the ground beside you, careful not to startle Jane, who stood with her back to you flipping an omelette.

Quietly, you cleared your throat and sat up straighter, “Mornin’ Jane.”

Her shoulders reached her ears in surprise, pan staying in the air for a couple of seconds, "Oh. Um, good morning.” She said with a strained voice, transferring the omelette onto a plate and sliding it over to you with sympathy painted on her face.

“What’s up?” You slowly asked, pulling the plate towards you suspiciously. The last time she made you breakfast was when you were twelve. From there on out, you told her you were old enough to make your own food, and though she stood by you to supervise, she let you do your thing.

“You only call me Jane when you’re upset.” She pointed out, lips rolling inwards.

“And you haven’t made me breakfast in years so,” you awkwardly laughed, picking at the appetizing omelette. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were hungry, but you couldn’t eat. The thought alone of doing so made you want to throw up.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” Jane asked, craning her head a little and watching your every move.

“Yeah, um,” you dropped the fork and scratched the back of your drooping head, “C-can you keep Peter’s secret? He doesn’t want anyone to know and-”

“Sure. Of course.” She nodded, agreeing quickly, "Is there anything else?”

“I…” you sighed and chewed on your bottom lip, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

False. You wanted nothing more than to talk about it. But you simply couldn’t burden Jane with your problems. She probably had enough on her hands as is.

She seemed disappointed in your answer, like she was waiting for a specific one, but gave you a small smile anyway, “Okay, well, you know I’m always here."

“Yeah,” you blankly stared at the plate in front of you, “I know.”

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

“Y/n!” You heard someone shout from across the hall, and had to fight the urge to run away and pretend like you didn’t hear anything. You felt incredibly drained today, and had no energy to deal with anyone, even Flash.

You groaned inwardly and turned, waiting for Flash to jog up to you with a grin. You wanted to get out of school during lunch, just for a while, but it seemed like you couldn’t leave at all.

“Where were you? Crisco Kid said your phone’s with him but he wouldn’t give it to me.” He pointed his thumb in the direction he just ran in from.

“Crisco Kid? You mean Ned?”

“Yeah, haha, get it? ‘Cause he’s fat?” He nudged your rib, giving you a playful wink, but you were in no mood for games.

“That’s not funny, Flash. Don’t make fun of appearances.” You said, already walking away from him. You felt like you were being suffocated everywhere you went, with no escape whatsoever, whether it’d be catching Peter’s eye from across the room or having someone question you about Spider-Man like you knew him personally. Which, you did, but they didn’t need to know that.

Ned had passed you a note in the middle of class saying “meet me at 2:45 sharp in the decathlon practice room to get your phone.” You furrowed your eyebrows and looked up, but he was already immersed in what the teacher was saying. You were too tired to argue with him, so you shrugged it off and planned to do what he said, no matter how suspicious it was.

Flash easily caught up to you and stood in front of you with his hands on your shoulders, concern lacing his voice, “What’s gotten into you, Y/n/n? You don’t…look okay.”

No matter how much makeup you'd put on, your bloodshot eyes and bags that were being held beneath the layers of foundation and concealer shone through like a bright light, a reminder of the shit that happened yesterday.

All it took was Flash’s question for him to break through. A switch had flipped in your mind, and you were suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotions.

“It’s just…he came- he asked- I don’t know what to do a-and-“ you were having a hard time constructing your thoughts into a sentence, words spewing left and right, already feeling the buildup of tears.

“Okay, okay,” Flash quieted you down, “let’s talk about it.” He grabbed put his arm around your shoulder and guided you towards the cafeteria, warding off anyone who tried to come near the both of you with a glare while you wiped your stray tears.

Tags: @peachescream06, @hayhays

Previous Chapter Next Chapter All The Hurt Masterlist Main Masterlist

[gloves94]

Kingdom of the Sun [Fire Lord Zuko] 9

Chapter Warnings: Death, SMUT  Story Rating: M   

Pairings: Zuko/OC  Kingdom of the Sun MASTERLIST

Last Airbender MASTERLIST   My MASTERLIST

“You’re an Earth bender?”

Tsai paced around the guest bedroom where her mother was calmly sitting on one of the sofa chairs. Her usual cool and collected demeanor in play. She had always known that her mother was from an Earth Kingdom nationality but this?

She was furiously pacing, breathing harsh as she walked a tight rope bordering on a panic attack. They had just survived the collapse of a temple, they had almost died – hell, they had witnessed the death of dozens of loyal Ozai supporters. Amongst them Mai’s father. Arrangements were being presently made for the quick burial and service of anybody that had perished.

“And what? You were just going to keep this to yourself? Take it to the grave?”  

Her mother remained stoic, cold.

Tsai really wished her brother could be here. Instead he was presently preoccupied consoling a certain mourning girl.

Sanju remained silent at her daughter’s questioning. “Does dad know?” “No,” She finally spoke single word. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? How can dad not know?”

The older woman sighed and relaxed in her seat for what seemed to be the first time since she arrived to the Fire Nation. She uncrossed her legs and lowered her tightly knit hands down to her lap.

“Your father and I… Like most unions of higher tier, it was arranged. Your grandfather always looked out for me and my family. Sencha felt that a union between his Fire Nation son and a woman from the Earth Kingdom would bring unity to Yu Dao and of course, he was right.”

Her daughter starred at her intensely both her eyes wide at the admission. How could her mother speak so calmly about this? “You’re very lucky to have found someone that reciprocates your feelings. I always knew you’d marry well, not the Fire Lord per say. You’d marry someone who wouldn’t be affected by… your background.”

She chose to ignore her mother’s ramblings, still much too preoccupied and lost in her own thoughts. However, Sanju did have a point. It was one of the red-head’s fears that was further intensified by this. What would the Fire Nation be with an earth bending heir? “So, you didn’t love him… dad?” Her daughter asked weakly shifting on to a more present and unavoidable topic.

“I learned to,” she responded. “He respected me and having come from nothing, owing everything to your grandfather, I had no choice but to agree to the arrangement.”

Tsai was in shock. She had never questioned her parent’s relationship. It seemed dull to her and just like every other older couple. For some reason she had just assumed they met at a dinner or something cliché amongst those lines.

It was then that her mother broke the silence letting out a weak laugh. The red head remained mute, still processing what her mother had just said to her. She had long stopped anxiously pacing the room and now stood frozen in shock.

“You don’t know how scared I was when I was pregnant with you. How relieved I was that your brother was born with the ability to ignite fire.”

The room suddenly felt small, asphyxiating, she had to get out of here. She needed space. “I-I need to go clear my head,” Tsai managed as she exited the room. Her mother didn’t reach for her this time.

Tsai didn’t know where to go. Chaos and havoc had been unleashed in the Fire Nation. Protesting citizens were mourning in the streets, chaos unleashed, widowed women crying for their husbands, orphans sobbing for their parents that had perished in the collapse of the temple. The nation was on the verge of an uprising.

It was all too much, too overwhelming. She didn’t want to think about anything. Didn’t want to process what had just happened. She just wanted to be alone and marinate in solace for a moment. And so, she went to the one place where she knew nobody would come looking for her.

She now sat alone a top of a slab carved out of white marble. It was dark in the room, certainly nobody would come down here, not a single noise could be heard echoing the small chamber. The Dragonbone Catacombs were strangely welcoming on this day. Still dark as night, still hosting the skeletal remains of the hunted dragons of the past, and the bodies of the Fire Lords of the past. The chambers dimly lit by rows of warm torches.

Her mind remained blank, numbed to everything as she hugged her knees closer to her body, head buried in between them, eyes shut exhaustedly. The place had been renovated since the bombing incident all those years ago. The scent of myrrh and incense still lingered in the air. Except that this time the room felt cold, empty and austere without the dozens of candles that had adorned it the last time she had been here. She found herself so deep into her own thought she didn’t even hear the approaching footsteps echoing the stone corridor.

“There you are,” a hand landed on her shoulder. She flinched, eyes snapping up. “I was worried,” Zuko said looking concerned. “We’ve all been looking for you everywhere.”  

Of course he’d find her. “I… I just need to be alone for a moment,” she stammered lowering her gaze to the floor. “Are you okay?” He asked kneeling down to meet her eye level.

She debated whether she should tell him the truth or not. Simply utter a dismissive stammered saying she wasn’t and just get it over with. “No,” She admitted truthfully. “Are you?” She met his golden eyes the feeling of concern being mutual. He licked his lips and shook his head slightly. “Don’t change the subject. I’m asking about you.”

She swallowed the barbwire knot that had formed in her throat. “I saw my life flash before my eyes,” she admitted, still avoiding his perturbing gaze. “Last time we were here,” she began lifting her gaze so that she could gaze around the dark catacombs. “I fucked up,” she divulged vulgarly.

She waited for his brass judgement. “It’s not just you,” she looked up to meet his expression with surprise, but instead found that he was looking away with the same shame she was. “We should’ve at least discussed these things. I don’t know what I was thinking.” That’s the thing. He wasn’t. He was the type to do stupidly impulsive things when it came to these things; specially to love. “I am so, so, so, sorry,” She apologized from the bottom of her heart. “To you to me. I should’ve done things differently,” her throat swelled with regret. She should’ve done things differently. They both should have.

“We still can.”

“Still can what?” She looked at him confused. “Do things differently.” She looked breathless as if she had been punched in the gut, which further fueled his confusion. “Let’s do things differently then.” She exhaled out slowly.

He didn’t get a chance to react to her words being silenced by a greedy kiss. She had made up her mind that she would marry this man before death did them part. She had never kissed him like that, with such urgency, with her mouth opening against his and body pressing up against his. Her hands fumbled with his clothes, his warm ones with hers. “This is not a proposal,” he managed to speak against her mouth, eyes closed. She didn’t seem to care if it was or wasn’t. He kissed her back just as hard, as if they were going to die. Her knees were growing weak from the intensity, he stepped forward and she leaned her body against the edge of the marble slab were his marble casket would one day lie.

She let out a breath when he bit her lower lip, parting her mouth open for him. His right hand cradled her jaw in it, the other supported his leaned weight as it rested on the slab where his body would one day lie. She sat on the edge of the marble and his hand traveled down the side of her body reaching her leg and hooking it around his waist. “Right now?” She spoke in between kisses. His mouth journeyed from the corner of hers down her jaw and to her neck. “What if somebody walks in?” She asked meekly still jaded at the memory of her mother and brother boldly interrupting the last time they had attempted to be together.

“I don’t care,” he spoke in a hoarse voice. His voice raspy scratching at her skin before dipping to the crook of her neck in a bite that made her want to melt. All the sudden, feeling hot and bothered, she didn’t care either. Her hands unfastened the sash that tied his regal robe together exposing his toned chest. She almost felt as if his eyes were burning against her skin. His hands lowered caressing the tender skin on her inner tight.

She felt there was no need for foreplay she was ready to go. Urging. Almost starved for his touch. His fingertips brushed her pulsing core. Just like last time she was hot, damp, ready for him.

The edge of Zuko’s lip curved, eager for what was waiting for him. Eager to do unmentionable things to her. He torturously toyed with the opening cleavage of her dress; slipping it down to her shoulders. His thumb reached for the bandeau she wore around her chest but before he removed it, he noted the gnarly scar that was inches below them in between. It was the knife wound from the day of Sozin’s Comet. He felt her hands on his skin and noted that the two had matching scars in their fronts.

Battle wounds from the war. She couldn’t help but smile softly, it was just another thing that connected them. The moment was short lived, his hands trailed up and he removed the fabric revealing her bare breasts. He squeezed both of them in his large hands and she winced a little at his roughness when he leaned down to kiss them. He leaned forward his nose carving the way, his hot mouth kissing her flesh inching down below her breasts. She arched her neck back and sighed at the pleasant sensation. His hands lowered to her sides and down to her bottom which he pulled her body forward closer to him. His lips and heated tongue returned to her chest taking turns between gently nibbling and teasing her plump nipples. She ran her hands through his long hair tangling a fistful of it. She lowered them to remove the robe off his shoulders. His hands continued to explore the temple of her body was which he had sworn to worship.

While Tsai did not want to spare another minute, he wanted to take his sweet time. As if unwrapping a precious gift. He wanted to explore every inch of her with his every sense.

His slender fingers followed a trail which he was becoming acquainted with. They sent an exciting chill down her spine when they wondered to the inside of her thigh closer to her heated core. He removed every obstacle in the way without much care.

“Please,” She pleaded him to ease the terrible hot itch that had formed in between her legs.

He slid in his index finger into her warmth. The sensation made him pause, he bit his lower lip at the sensation. The thought of being inside of her was enough to drive him over the edge. He couldn’t wait to sink himself into her and finally be one. He slid another finger in past her folds and began to wave his fingers in the fashion he was familiar with. “Please,” she whimpered with need for more.

His uncle’s best earnest advice had been to practice his virtues. “Patience,” He towered over her body leaning down and planting a wet kiss under her ear in that spot he knew made her hot. He bit it gently, making her shudder before returning his attention to her sex.

He lowered his head, lower and lower until she could feel his breath hot against her. “What are you doing?” She asked taken aback by the close proximity.

“I want to taste you,” He said through hooded eyes. She flushed at his words and let out a faint yelp when she felt his warm tongue lapping at her steaming entrance. His fingers remained on her opening stroking a clockwise circular motion on her swollen rose bud.

Her back arched involuntary and she opened her legs for him. Tsai bit a low moan at the sensation. Her hips grinded forward wanting more, needing more, needing him. She tossed her head back slightly and sharply inhaled at the pleasurable sensation. Eyes closed in a blinding mist. He kept a careful eye on the language of her body, eager for the next pleasurable sound that escaped her lips, he’d cherish them all. Every mumble, every whisper, every shuddered curse that escaped the prison of her mouth. She leaned back laying on the slab when he raised her legs over his shoulders.

He hummed making his mouth gently vibrate against her sensitive entrance. He continued delving his tongue in and out of her, his fingers moving at a steady rhythm. His eyes frozen on the feverish expression on her rosy face. She struggled against an escaping whimper and moaned out his name, relaxing into the cold marble.

“I’m almost there,” she warned of her approaching orgasm.  

However, he didn’t stop. She felt the coil of aching nerves which had bundled up in her lower regions snap, releasing a pleasurable shock that rocked her body. She came in his mouth. He lowered her legs and met her eyes, her love juices crudely dripping down his chin.

“I’m not done yet,” he said licking his swollen lips.

Fuck. The erotic sight was almost too much to bear.

He hovered over her horizontal body and knotted a hand thought her long locks. He kissed her sloppily, his tongue impatiently exploring the cavity of her mouth. Still sensitive from her orgasm, she moaned into his open mouth, at the strange sensation of tasting herself on his lips. He pressed up against her with wanting. Their lower regions rubbing against each other in want. The confinement of his pants becoming tightly unbearable. Fuck being patient. He tugged at the cord that tied her dress together and tugged it off exposing her flesh to the cold, damp air of the Dragonbone Catacombs.

He stood up desperately undoing his pants with urgency. She sat up, legs leaning down the side of the marble, hands attempting to unfasten the rest of his regal robes and clothes. He exhaled at the freeing sensation when his erect member became exposed, twitching in desperate need to be touched, proudly bouncing against his navel.

For the first time he looked at her with what seemed to be hesitation. She paused, still breathing heavily and nodded in consent. She latched onto him like a tick and kissed the outline of his jaw, arms clinging around his neck.

He stroked himself for a moment, a lustful look on his eyes as he positioned himself at her entrance which was grieving for him, throbbing in heat.

“I love you,” she whispered against his skin. He grabbed her jaw in his hands and kissed her in response.

Slowly, with ease he pushed forward losing his virtue to her. She let out a huff when he filled her fingers digging against the skin of his broad shoulders.

She hadn’t been expecting him to be so goddamn thick.

It took him a moment to adjust to the welcoming sensation. Her sex was hot. It was warm, inviting, it made his heart ram against his rib cage. She fit him like a glove. This felt better than whatever he had been expected it to feel like. “Fuck” he cursed under his breath, something she had rarely heard him do. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he moved again, and again, slowly painfully thrusting into her gaining a steady pace, getting used to the foreign sensation. She placed his hands on her breasts and he greedily explored them, kissing them, lightly biting her skin which made her feel lightheaded. She pulled at the roots of his dark hair in the back of his head.

“There,” she let out a low moan when he hit that sweet spot. He hit again and bent his head forward resting it on her shoulder. “Right there” she moaned louder wrapping an arm around his shoulder deliciously burying her nails into his back, lightly scratching it.

His pace increased and towering over her he pushed her back so that she was once again laying on the slab, he reached for her hips and dug his fingers in them tightly before pounding deeper into her. Each bold trust seemed to come harder and faster than the last. A grunt was trapped in his throat as he leant over and laced his fingers with hers. She cried out in bliss; her eyes closed enjoying the idyllic moment. He rammed harder and harder to the point she was almost at the point of begging for his mercy. She felt her nerves tighten and tightened as a dam of pleasure was about to break lose again. He was close, he could feel himself close to finish and suddenly came to an abrupt stop.

“Why’d you stop?” She asked leaning on her elbows looking up panting heavily.

“I need a moment.” He said taking in a deep breath, pacing himself, his ragged breathing matching hers, heart hammering in his chest as he tried not to get too excited.

“I should’ve married you” she confessed looking at him through her lashes.

“I should’ve done this a long time ago.” He exhaled and again picking up her leg hooking it around his body and leaning over her.

"What did you call this again? Disrespectful? Dishonorable?" She mocked. "Fuck honor," He laughed a little at her shocked expression. He leaned over and kissed the edge of the mouth before he once again pushed himself into her. He trusted hard, perspiring bodies slapping against each other, teeth sinking against her shoulder. She saw red with each stroke. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, legs around his hips. She wanted him deeper if possible, still greedily lusting for more.

Zuko wanted to hear her praise. Her moans, her encouragement, the way she moaned out her name was music to him. It threatened to push him over the edge. He wanted nothing more than to please her.  

“I’m about to finish“ she let out a squeak when she felt herself come undone around him. The dam of pleasure breaking releasing a wave of satisfaction which stretched from the lower part of her stomach reaching the tips of her toes which curled at the sensation. Her walls spasming around his erection, making him swallow his breath. He stood witness to the lovely sight, his jaw going slack at the compressing sensation of her velvet insides.

She cried out in ecstasy and he continued his rough movements. He groaned out her name like a curse as he was about to reach his own end. Eyes closing in bliss, grip becoming loser around her body, vision blurring into a white haze around the edges.

“Tsai, move I’m about too.” He struggled to speak with a strained tone.

“It’s okay,” She breathed holding his face in her hands. He held her close and gave three strong trusts before slightly twitching inside her and coming undone as he too reached his orgasm.

He sighed drained before his body collapsed. He lowered himself to her. Resting his head on her chest. She kept her arms wrapped around him and caught her breath. He could hear her heart hammering against her rib cage. She kissed his forehead hugged him.

"Yes. Yes. Let's get married." She said with glassy eyes, stroking his hair.

"No, no, no, this was not a proposal." He said alarmed quickly sitting up.

"I know. That's why I'm asking you." "What" He looked at her confused and with disbelief.

"We are doing things, differently aren't we?"

Silence. His expression unreadable. There was a pregnant pause on his behald.

"Say something." She begged him as insecurity began to prick at her. Had he changed his mind?

A broad smile cracked across his features. "You've lost your mind."

"Is that a yes?" She couldn’t help but smile so wide it made her face ache.

Smiling, both kissed.

Xxx

The couple returned to the Palace hand in hand. Happy to have one good news amongst the unfolding chaos. Tsai made a note to prepare a stone seed root and thistles antidote as her form of birth control.

Their families all seemed to be in the Royal dining room not very hungry. All wore somber expressions on their faces at the events that had transpired earlier. Thankfully none of them had been hurt.

Both walked in hand in hand, side by side, which immediately caught everyone’s attention. “Tsai and I have something to tell you all,” Zuko began. The couple exchanged an excited look. Sanju raised an eyebrow, Iroh lowered his tea, Ursa and Kiyi turned their attention towards them. “We know there’s been a lot of somber news, but we wanted to share that in the midst of the darkness we have decided to get married,” was what the Fire Lord had wanted to say. Instead he was brashly interrupted when he said the word ‘but’ with a loud: “We’re getting married!” Tsai said excitedly hugging onto his arm.

“Ho! My boy!” Iroh cheered beaming jumping to his feet, his face flushing with excitement.

Ursa brought both hands to hide her wide smile as she also rose to her feet letting out a small squeal. Kiyi looked as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her and Sanju smiled a little standing up also approaching the happy couple to congratulate them.

Their parents said their congratulations as they embraced both into their uniting family. “So, did you take my advice?” Iroh asked Zuko wiggling his eyebrows at his nephew. His tone was loud enough that his fiancée heard. “What advice?” She asked arching an eyebrow with a hand on her waist. “Not now Uncle!” The man hissed embarrassed his face turning a deep shade of scarlet.

Kiyi stood before the two of them with a pout on her face and her arms crossed over her chest upset. Both of her eyes narrowed as she glared at both her brother and his lady.

“Kiyi,” Tsai began stepping forward leaning down slightly, so she was at eye level with the younger girl. “I also owe you an apology,” she began in a gentle tone. “I shouldn’t have left so abruptly last time I was here,” she let out a small laugh, “I don’t think I should’ve left at all, but what’s done is done and what matters is that we’re all together and your brother and I are starting our lives together,” she looked back at Zuko lovingly, who was currently distraught by his mother who was touching his face and on the verge of tears.

“I know you wanted to be a bridesmaid and I hate to disappoint you,” she clicked her tongue. The younger girl’s eyes widened slightly. Was she kicking her off the wedding party? “Instead I wanted to ask you- will you be my maid of honor?”

Kiyi’s reaction was immediate as her icy composure melted off her shoulders. “Yes!” She said tackling the older girl in a hug. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She beamed. “We’re going to have so much fun! And oh! We have to pick your robes! And the flowers- what about the cake?” She began to ramble on excitedly. Just like that it seemed as if all had been forgiven. Everybody was chattering excitedly about the future. It was then that Tsai’s brother walked in. Mecha was just as excited over the news hugging his sister and slapping his future brother in law in the shoulder a little too hard.

“I can’t believe my sister is engaged!” He said excitedly. “Well,” Sanju drawled in an unfriendly tone. Arms crossed over her chest, “I don’t see a ring,” she commented snidely.

“Mom,” Her daughter protested. “Fire Nationers don’t traditionally use rings. You know this,” she rolled her eyes slightly.

Her mother seemed happy but not ecstatic over the idea of their engagement. “So is dad invited to the wedding or what?” Mecha commented. “I hate to burst your bubble, but the New Ozai Society might’ve just been literally squashed, but the Anti-Revolution Movement is now stronger than ever.”

Tsai had completely forgotten about her father. Having been completely caught up with her emotions, her engagement and what had happened in the Dragonbone Catacombs. She hadn’t fully processed the bombing of the temple. The one responsible for so much chaos in the Fire Nation. The bombing… She thought about the one in the Dragonbone Catacombs and the one that occurred in the temple earlier today during Fire Lord Ozai’s funerary services. It was impossible for her father to be roaming Fire Nation lands freely. She doubted he was even aware of the secret underground tunnel system. Whoever had orchestrated both of these attacks had the ability to transparently sneak around the Fire Nation. This person was preparing everything, always one step ahead. Without another word she stepped out of the room leaving behind a room filled with very confused people.

“Where are you going?” Without turning around she felt Zuko join in her side as he trotted to catch up to her fast pace.

“I know who did it. I know who set up the bombs this morning and last time we were in the catacombs.”

Both rushed into a room in the third floor of the palace. Tsai slammed the room’s door open just in time to catch the red-handed culprit packing away his belongings in a rush.

“Going somewhere?” She drawled out, glaring at the man who was sweating bullets.

Zuko’s mediocre assistant, Nezu, looked started at having been caught. Without missing a beat he rushed towards the window, throwing it open ready to leap out. However, his path was instead blocked by the Fire Lord himself who say on the edge of the window cooly, with his arms crossed over his chest. An angry scowl on his face.

His head snapped back to the door where he saw Tsai leaning against the doorframe wearing a similar expression on her features. Instead her eyes were focused into deathly slits. Her hidden blades were pulled out and brightly reflected some of the light they caught.

“I know a rat when I smell one.”

“I won’t tell you anything!” The man spat, raising his hands up.

Zuko stepped down from the window, he held fistfuls of fire on both of his hands an absolutely livid expression on his face.

The terrorist was cornered. Tsai stepped forward holding her blade to the eyelevel of the man. Her menacing eyes never left his as she inched forward until the blade poked at its neck drawing a single string of blood out. The man saw her pause, expression faltering for a split second before she retreated.

A satisfied smirk carved his face when she pulled away and lowered her blade. “Your father was right, you’re a coward you don’t have it in you to kill me.”

“Maybe not… Who am I to play jury, judge and executioner?” She wiped the back of her blade on her sleeve. “I hope the side effects kick in soon, she said looking around the satchel she kept tied around her waist.

“Side effects?” The man uttered out a perplex expression morphing on his features. “You’ve done your research Nezu,” Zuko began as he towered over the man. “You know my fiancées favorite animal is the platypus bear.” “You want to know why they’re my favorite?” The other probed as she continued pulling out several vials and small flasks and powders from her satchel and from underneath her sleeves. “Besides being really cute and the all-terrain predator-“ She finally found a small vial filled with a pale-yellow liquid. “Males have a venomous thumb. The venom a platypus bear is extremely dangerous, it can cause pain that can live out for months, painful hallucinations, convulsions and eventually loss of consciousness and body motors. It’s so rare very few people actually know the antidote for it. Fortunately, I happen to have it, now you’re going to croak or well, you know what will happen.” she threatened.

The man looked around the room nervously. He was trapped, there was no escape. He suddenly felt his heart accelerate in rapid palpitations. The sweat and perspiration began to build on his forehead. He could feel himself growing woozy. He was paranoid as the side effects began to kick in.

“Fine…” He grumbled. “Fine!” The man snapped. “It’s true. I work for the Governor; I work for your father. I’ve been working for him since before the war ended.”

“How many more of are there in the Fire Nation?” Zuko pressed.

“Just me.”

Then came the million-dollar question.

“Where is my father?” Tsai glared at the man holding the vial in between her thumb and index fingers. A more relaxed expression on her features.

“He’s in the colonies, he’s planning on blowing up the palace with the Avatar in it.”

Both of their eyes went wide as the couple locked eyes. It was another trap. Just like the funeral. Did Nezu kill the Fire Lord to set up the entire thing? No, it didn’t fit his style, it was too elaborate, too spontaneous. But this- the blowing up of the palace… It had to be a trap. And why hadn’t he done it already? What was holding him back? The threat of them surviving the bombing of the temple?

Tsai was so distraught, so deep in thought that she missed the man’s quick reflexes in snatching the flask from her hand and in that same moment downing the liquid.

Zuko stood idly watching. He lowered his hands-on offense allowing the man to drink the vial without opposition. “Wait!” She realized looking horrified. The man drank the bitter liquid and cringed before slamming it to the floor shattering it. “I turn in myself in as a prisoner of the nation,” Nezu said smugly ready to embrace the consequences. He raised his hands innocently. His reasoning was that if Fire Lord Ozai had managed to get away with the sentence of life in prison what would they do to him? Surely something not half as bad as that.

“You don’t understand,” she said looking at him aghast. “I didn’t actually poison you!”

Nezu felt his body suddenly grow cold at the realization. “You told us all that yourself,” Zuko backed.

“What you just drank was the actual poison!”

It was then that he began to feel the symptoms again. Not the feeble version his hypochondriac self-had tricked his mind into believing but the actually painful side effects from the venom. Zuko stepped around the room when the man knelt over with a sharp pain in his gut. Thick saliva foamed around his mouth like rabies and the man reached for his throat. The couple looked horrified as the man struggled to gasp for breath or reason and stumbled backwards backing away from them. Neither stopped the man from falling out from behind the window.

And that’s how Nezu met his end.

The couple looked at the open window mildly disturbed. So much death had already happened today. So much innocent blood had been spilled. It was so unnecessary. Things could’ve been done so much differently.

Zuko touched her arm in what she interpreted to be a comforting matter. “What do we do now?”

“We have to go back to Yu Dao. Warn Aang and the others.”

“We’d be walking right into his trap,” he said his brows shaping into a concerned frown. “Not if we’re a step ahead,” she said determinedly slapping a fist on her opposite open palm. Her brain rapidly turning as it crafted an elaborate plan of attack. “I’m flying back to the colonies tomorrow, confronting him and his goons.” “Alone?” He looked at her incredulously. “No way, I’m going back with you. I won’t let you go alone.”

It didn’t take much to convince her. She was going to get all the help she could get.

“Fine,” she agreed. “We leave tomorrow first thing in the morning. Let’s try and get some rest first.”

They exited the room but not before casting one long single glance at the open window behind them. The curtains lightly fluttering reminding them of the traitor’s demise.

Xxx

There was much to do. Close advisors had been instructed to comb the room for anything that might be useful for the strike against the Anti-Revolutionary movement.

And speaking of advisors.

Tsai and Zuko were presently walking back from sharing their condolences with Mai.

When the two ran into Iroh and Ursa in the parlor room. It seemed like both were on their way to pay a visit to Mai during her times of hardship. They were explaining to the two what had transpired with Nezu and how the man had fallen to his death and been poisoned by his own hand.

“I didn’t think he would…” Tsai lowered her head. Still running over the events that had transpired. All she wanted was for less people to die. To keep everybody as safe as possible.

She felt a hand being placed on her shoulder and looked to see Ursa’s hand on her body, but that wasn’t what caught her off guard. What caught her attention were the violet bruises that decorated her wrist. Those looked oddly like wounds of restraint from somebody that was defending themselves. She could hear Iroh speaking but wasn’t listening to a word he was saying. Eyes still engrossed in the wounds.

Ursa noted this and quickly removed her arm, self-consciously pulling her sleeves over her wrist hiding the marks. Tsai looked at her oddly, mouth ajar at the realization.

Whomever had killed Fire Lord Ozai, this person had to be somebody he trusted enough to get close to him. His killing it had to be personal, upsetting. She looked at Ursa’s face. Eyes widening in realization at who had killed Ozai. Neither Iroh nor Zuko seemed to notice the interaction between the two women.

“In happier news, I’m very excited to begin planning for the wedding,” Ursa said switching the subject with a small smile. “Yeah…” Tsai drawled out, unblinking, her mind still in haze at the realization of who Fire Lord Ozai’s murder really was. But why? After all this time.

“Ozai’s service was really a tragedy, but at least it is one less thing to worry about. Right?”

She wasn’t sure if she meant the collapse of the temple or the man’s funerary services, but guessed she meant the latter.

Despite her kind smile there was something painful. Something hollow about it. Ursa had once killed a Fire Lord before. It fit that she would do it again Zuko looked at his mother confused, unsure of what her cryptic words meant. Iroh kept quiet, yet there was a strange glint in his eyes that made Tsai think he knew more than the man was letting on.  

“All I want is for you two to be happy,” she said closing her eyes with a small smile.

There it was, her admission.

Her motive.

She had done it for them. For her son. She knew that Ozai was not a forgiving man and that he would never surrender his ambition for his claim to power. That he would never stop torturing his family. So, she took up the roles of judge, jury and finally executioner.

There was a silent understanding between the two women as they shifted topics with ease. Both with hollow smiles on their faces. Zuko wouldn’t throw his mother in a pit of jail to rot. However, somethings really were best left unsaid.

xxx

AN: Next chapter should be the last UwU

[damnusillygoose]

Jerza fanfiction

disclaimer: these characters belong to hiro sensei

title: Somebody is jealous

summary: will erza be able to maintain her calm when her beau starts getting a lot of female attention?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13786166/1/somebody-is-jealous

Erza was a jealous woman.

She wasn't insecure in her relationship with Jellal by any means, not that she had to vie for his attention. He gave it to her willingly. He made her feel loved, so much that she was practically brimming with it. He showed her his affection not only through words but also through his actions.

But that didn't mean she couldn't get jealous.

Jellal's popularity proliferated after he settled in magnolia and started indulging himself with voluntary service. Crime sorciere might be officially disbanded but the former members having spent ample amount of time with each other wanted to continue working together and take missions. They also diverted their funds to start an orphanage for abandoned children.

Their pious efforts were recognized and soon they started receiving all sorts of grants from public and from private companies in the form of corporate social responsibility. As the grand master of crime sorciere, Jellal was often called upon by organizations for collaborations and for interviews to further elaborate upon the work done by his guild.

Erza couldn't be happier for him but the limelight he received also turned out to be slightly infernal for her. Jellal became instantly well-known and even topped the charts of 'The Most Handsome Man Alive', dethroning Hibiki Lates who took pride upon himself for holding this position for 3 years plus.

She lost the counts of love letters that Jellal started receiving from his female following. Whenever they would go out to spend time with each other, there would always be eyes hawking him or pestering him for autographs. Erza really wanted to maintain her demeanor as a good girlfriend who doesn't get jealous when her partner gets excessive attention from the opposite gender but there had to be a limit right?

However, Erza was grateful for a fact that there was never a reciprocation from his end. Jellal never returned their efforts. He never bothered.

He was staunch in his belief and was firmly loyal to her.

The realization made her feel extremely loved.

'Stop brooding Erza, you look hideous.' Mirajane snapped Erza out of her murderous intent as she reached across the table enamored with mahogany wood to collect empty glasses.

'Mira! that reporter bitch is all over him again! Can I murder her?! '

'Calm down Erza. She is here for her job after all.'

'Her job is to interview and ask him substantial questions! Not throw herself all over him! He is clearly uncomfortable with her vexing advances. Is she blind or what?!' she roared as her fist slammed against the table top nearly knocking off the glasses in the tray.

Her abrupt yet fierce declaration was enough to scare Natsu and Gray who were once again at each other's throats. She was seething with anger and gritted her teeth with helplessness. She wanted to jump in and slap the day lights out of that abhorrent creature but she wouldn't dare disturb Jellal's interview. Fairy tail has a reputation to maintain anyways. Not that they had a respectable reputation to begin with but she wouldn't embarrass her guild any further.

Erza witnessed as that female reporter proceeded to smirk smugly at her paramour and leaned forward on the pretext of not being able to hear his answer owing to uproarious energy of the guild.

Jellal leaned back as his company continued to disrespect his personal space relentlessly.

'Mr. Fernandez, I think it's equally disturbing to interview you here. How about we move to my private chamber? No one would interrupt us there and we can take all the time we want', the female reporter purred and twisted her lips in a vicious smirk, touching the top of his hand.

'No, thank you. I can't afford that. My girlfriend is waiting for me. Let's wrap this up quickly', Jellal repudiated, pulling his hand aside, rejecting her advances in a disapproving grunt.

That's it! Erza stood up from her seat as she saw that wretched bitch lean towards him, churning with incorrigible wrath. Her emotional turmoil had successfully won over her and she was ready to slice that bitch into pieces. But before she could do anything, she saw her beau lightly bow his head towards his female companion displaying the dismissal of their conversation.

She inhaled a breath of relief as he walked towards her and took a seat beside her. His eyes looked genuinely tired and he rubbed his temples in exasperation.

Her anger melted into concern.

'Are you okay, Jellal? Was she pestering you a lot?' she asked empathetically.

'Yes, I am fine. I am glad it's over', he took her hand in his and entwined them firmly.

He gave her a worn-out smile as he requested Mira to bring him a drink.

'that bitch.' Erza cursed as she weaved her free arm to loop around his bicep. She rested her head against his shoulder and let out a sigh.

'I am fine, Erza. Seriously, Let's eat something and then we can head back home'

'I know you are saying this to put me at ease but we aren't heading back home Jellal. That bitch's presence will not ruin the party for us. We will enjoy till the very end'

Just when they thought the trouble was over, that female reporter strode unapologetically into their love nest.

'I am sorry to barge into your conversation but is it okay if I sit here? I am not familiar with anyone here and I only know Mr. Fernandez so...?'

Jellal clicked his tongue in annoyance and looked at Erza to check her reaction only to find her extremely calm and collected. However, He knew that her exterior appearance was a façade. She was probably singeing internally hotter than any inferno.

'sure', Erza replied in her imperturbable composure, her wrath at the brim of her limit, ready to walk over the barbwire at any moment.

Lucy and Cana marveled at the guts of this prying female as they witnessed this scene from the next table.

'So, how long you two been together?'

'I didn't know there was another interview?', Erza eyed her as she retorted sharply.

'nah, I am just curious about you two. You are a well-known couple in magnolia after all. Everyone looks up to you guys for couple goals.'

'About six months', Erza replied unsure whether this person was genuinely intrigued or mocking them half-heartedly.

'Ah. From what I have heard this is the first ever relationship for both of you, right? Six months isn't even a long time to know your partner intimately. People break up over minute scuffles all the time. Anyways, Mr. Fernandes, a handsome man like yourself must find himself flocked with female attention all the time, no? I don't think you should settle yourself in a relationship this early- '

This fucking bitch is going to breath her last breathe today! there is no way I am letting her out alive! Erza bellowed internally. How dare she insult her relationship like this?! This jerk continued to spew bullshit even when she was kind enough to overlook her advances towards Jellal earlier! How dare she-

'Ms. Erina, we don't recall asking for your unsolicited advice on our relationship. This is our private matter and we do not appreciate third party interferences. Your job was to interview me on professional basis and I can very well report back to your organization regarding your unethical behaviour. This can cost you your career and you know that', Jellal shot her down with his sharp retort. He took hold of Erza's hand in his, underneath the table, in a reassuring manner.

'but I was just kidding around- '

'We don't appreciate this degraded sense of humor. It was disrespectful and you were clearly trying to jeopardize my relationship', Jellal, when triggered, had no mercy for people who undermined his relationship with Erza.

'You've crossed the limits of my personal space and I ask you to leave'

His refute left Erina stunned. She had successfully seduced countless men in their so-called committed relationships but Jellal Fernandez was one such man she was unable to surmount no matter how many cheap tricks she pulled. Admitting her inevitable defeat, she stood up in shame, trembling with anger for he insulted her blatantly, dragged her feet across the guild hall, colliding with Kinana on her way, almost knocking off the drinks in her tray ,had Erik not intervened preventing her fall. He let out a muffled snare at the vile woman who passed by him. .

Jellal finally let out an audible sigh and looked at Erza.

'sorry, my love. You had to witness this', Jellal whispered anxiously. He moved his hand to fondle her inner thigh intimately in way he knew would calm her trembling down.

Erza had a wide smile that adorned her lips. She wasn't angry now. In fact, she was extremely satisfied the way Jellal shot her down. The respect and adoration he held for her was oozing out of every word he spoke. She loved him so much. Her ears felt warm as she snuggled into his shoulder.

'thank you Jellal. I am fine. I am not bothered by her ignorant remarks. She has no clue about what we both went through to stand where we are today and frankly I don't care', Erza stated, referring to their past history.

'if it doesn't bother you, it doesn't bother me as well', Jellal smiled as he leaned down to capture her lips in a passionate kiss and then traced his soft lips against her jawline, giving her a peck on her cheeks.

Laxus looked at his buddy from the second floor, impressed, for he handled the situation very maturely.

'sheesh, that's a slick move Fernandes'

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review if you liked it. Constructive criticism is appreciated.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

For the fairytale au thing, Yan! Prince! Giorno x Princess!reader? Essentially sleeping beauty but reader was the one who locked themselves up in the tower- just to get away from Giorno, an extra thing i wanted to add maybe reader said whoever could get her out of the tower, is the person she would marry (sorry if its alot)

Thanks

Tower of thorns

(yandere Giorno Giovanna X female reader)

You made your escape from the castle under the cover of darkness, running through the thick forest. Within the coldness of the night you found warmth in the arms of your forbidden love. Tears streamed down your face and soaked into his clothes, you knew that the world wouldn't accept your love for a wizard but you had never imagined that your family would send you to marry a prince you'd never met to boost your kingdoms economy. You had told the blonde prince that you weren't interested but he was deadset on making you love him.

Your heart ached to know that you would not be allowed to love who you truely loved and that thought had drive you to do what you would do.

"I have everything ready... But are you still sure you want me to do this dear?" He asked, his soft voice trembling with sorrow.

"Yes, I can't bare to live in a world that tear us apart" you sobbed as he brought you into his cottage and sat you on his bed.

While he grabbed the vial of a glowing purple liquid you took a good look at him. He wasn't like the old shriveled men you had been told about. He looked around the same age as you but was probably two to three times your age. You honestly wondered why he'd chosen to fall in love with a mortal like you who would die centuries before he would but never the less you cherished every hair on the brunette's head.

Tears streamed down your face again as you knew it would be the last time you'd see him for a long time.

"Oh dear don't cry, I hate it when you cry" he tried his hardest not to sob as he sat beside you and wiped away your tears.

"It's just... I'm going to miss out on so much..." You muttered.

"(Y/n) I don't care if you marry that prince, a human marriage doesn't stop me from knowing that you love me" he explained, so desperate to talk you out of drinking that potion.

"But I don't want to marry him, I want to marry you and until that day comes I'm better off to just disappear" you cried.

Your lover looked down to the ground, he couldn't talk you out of this no matter how much he tried. Tears finally flooded his eyes as he finally succumb to his sorrows.

"My love do not cry... Just promise me you'll be at my side when I wake up" you said as you hugged him.

"I'll wait for you as I slumber, I'll dream of our marriage until that faithful day comes" you softly spoke as you gave him a tight hug before flinching as you heard a knock on the door.

"Amore I know you're in there, it's rather cruel to run away on the night before our wedding" a familiar voice called from beyond the door, his voice was calm but you knew that deep inside the prince was burning with anger.

"Please don't let him in" you begged with a whisper.

"It's fine we are far away from him, if he were enter now the he would see nothing" he explained.

"What do you mean?" You asked. He helped you up and guided you to the door as he began to explain.

"Just some simple spacial magic, the interior of my home can be in multiple building, the prince is standing outside of the cottage in the woods but if you were to open the door now" he said before he opened the door. Prince Giorno was not there, nor was the forest. Instead you saw a balcony and as you stepped out and looked over you saw that you were now in a tower so high in the sky that it nearly touched the clouds. The tower covered by various thick thorny growth, making it an almost impossible feat to approach.

🌕🌕🌕

Giorno did not hesitate to kick to door down and storm in but he found that the small cottage was completely empty. He gritted his teeth as he knew who you had run off with. A bitter taste grew on his tongue and a fiery ache lingered in his chest. Prince Giorno was absolutely livid but hid it as best as he could from his those with him.

He knew he'd have to tell your parents of your escapade as soon he could if he had a chance in keeping their faith in him. He returned back to the castle woke the foreign royals and told them of your escape with the wizard. The two weren't happy in the slightest of the news and left instantly to command a search of the land. In a few days they made an announcement that made the young man want to lurch.

They had found the wizards lair in the tallest tower in the land, a tower so tall that the roof kissed the sky. However such a large tower was shrouded in thorny overgrowth that would break any sword to try to cut it and would shred a man to pieces if they were to fall into it. The royals had also revoked you from marrying him and instead you would be married to whoever could scale the tower and return you to the kingdom.

Giorno felt his stomach twist in disgust and horror. All he ever wanted was you, you hypnotized him with your fair beauty and sweet voice. He had offered you the greatest luxuries that a woman would ever dream of but you still declined to reciprocate the same feels that he felt.

He treated you as a higher being, like you were a goddess that descended from the heavens to grace the world with your eternal beauty yet you still rejected his love over and over again. Every rejection just rubbed away at him little by little, at times he had been so tempted to lock you away for only his eyes to see but he'd always shake off those thoughts before he'd act upon them and now he regretted that he hadn't followed such selfish desires.

Days passed into weeks and soon month passed into years. Nobody had reigned triumphant in conquering the tower and the Prince had become a king but his feelings never faded. Unlike most who tried to win you he hadn't attempted to scale the tower, he knew it was a futile task. Instead he looked to find the so called evil wizard who kidnapped you. He sent all his cavalry to hunt him down.

Giorno sat on his throne eagerly awaiting for any news when the brunette that he had been trying to hunt came before him, the wizard had come willingly with no chains to bind him.

"You made quite the disappearing act, I was starting to believe that you'd disappeared off the face of the earth" Giorno softly spoke.

"So what made you decide to come to see me of all people... After all you ran away with my wife to be, I should just kill you where you stand" Giorno continued, his voice became a growl as he pulled a sword from behind his throne.

"I don't wish for conflict" the man said.

"I just want my lover to be at peace until she wakes up" he continued.

"What did you do to her?" Giorno asked with an eyebrow raised as he made not of such a weird plea.

"It was her choice, I tried to talk her out of it-"

"I asked you what you did?!" The king hissed.

"I made her a potion to put her in a sleep like state. All she wanted was to live in a time where our love would be accepted" he explained, knowing the lies that were spread and the many who had been killed or mortally wounded in an attempt to climb the tower. He realised that your protest had done more harm to the cause then good.

"Love between our kinds are forbidden, it is a mirage that can never truely be... We perish centuries or even a millennia before your kind does, how can one love what is destined to disappear in the blink of an eye to you" Giorno explained to the male as he placed the sword down on his lap.

The wizard simply stood in silence, he knew that the king was right.

"I understand..." He muttered.

"Why not surrender her to me? I'll treat her well as give her all that she desires" Giorno asked the male.

"I'm sure you'd rather her live a life knowing she lived well then have her to worry about what she'll leave behind" he continued.

"Besides heartbreak clings onto the soul like barbwire and chains, I dread to imagine how carrying such sorrows over centuries" he said before having his first proper look at the male. He looked worn out and stressed, his eyes glazed with sorrow.

Giorno was charming and charismatic. He knew how to get into peoples heads and knew what words made them tick. It hadn't taken much effort to finally get the wizard to surrender you, but the king wouldn't let him get away with what he did scott free.

The wizard was to be imprisoned for sixty years once you where brought back and that was a price he was willing to pay. He wanted you to live a normal life and to have a partner that you could have children and grow old with, something he could never provide to you. He knew you'd be mad but he couldn't stand the heartbreak.

🌕🌕🌕

The wizard led Giorno and a few of his guards through the dense forest of thorns and up the large stairway that seemed to go on forever until they reached a door, he opened it to reveal the room in which you had slept in for year. He hadn't returned since you had fallen asleep so the overgrowth of flowers had seeped into the room itself.

"Now how do I wake her up? I presume she won't react to sound or touch" the king asked.

"Well the effects usually last ten years at the most but I've heard from old folklore that a kiss can arouse someone from slumber" he explained.

"Old romanticism?" Giorno muttered to himself, hoping that such an old tale is true as he approached your sleeping form. He stood at your bedside and admired you as you seemed so peaceful in amongst the silk sheets.

He slowly pushed a few stray strands from your face before leaning in and planting a soft kiss onto your lips.

Giorno eagerly waited for you to wake up. Minutes soon turned into an hour yet you still hadn't woken up. A frown formed on his soft lips.

"Such a shame" he muttered before he signalled his guards to take him away. The wizard could escape but he complied, not wishing for any conflict.

Giorno picked up your form and carried you bridal style out of the room and down the stairs and out of the tower before making the long journey back to his kingdom.

🌕🌕🌕

You tossed and turned as you stirred awake as you felt a light tingle on your lips. Your eyes slowly opened to a blur of colours, the bed sheets felt off and had a certain mixture of smells. Sharp cologne and a masculine musk as well as your own. You hoped to see your lover by your side but instead you saw the prince you had tried to escape from.

"Bon giorno mio amore" the prince with long blonde hair greeted with a warm smile as he laid next to you. Your heart skipped a beat before beating like it had never before as your stomach dropped.

"Oh mio cara, you look so pale... What's the matter?" he asked as he entwined his hands with yours. You quickly pushed him away before trying to get out of the bed, only to find one of your legs were chained to the bedpost.

"You! That is what's the matter! Where am I?!" You yelled.

"Shh, all the servants are asleep... You'll wake the whole castle up with a voice like that" he scolded with a hush tone.

"Where is my lover?" You asked.

"Right beside you darling" he cooed.

"No, you'll never be close you bastard!" You hissed, the males dreamy expression turned cold.

"Oh you mean him" Giorno growled.

"Well you see amore, he surrendered... He's currently serving a sixty year sentence for his crimes" he slyly explained as a sickeningly devilish grin contoured his features.

You pounced on the male as a sudden burst of rage ignited in you, making you pin him underneath you.

"How dare you! He did nothing wrong!" You yelled.

"Oh but he did... You should be thanking me... Most others were inclined to have him executed" he explained.

"For falling in love with me?!"

"No, it's for hiding you away from me as well" he answered

"why even love such a being?" He asked before he flipped you do now you were underneath him, his long hair tickling your cheek.

"What makes wizards any different to us?!" You asked.

"They are beings that possess powers both of good and evil, many turn to pursue the darkest of magic to achieve the ultimate authority in the world, but their kind as a whole are able to live much longer then you or I... It is a precaution made by both sides to stop instability between our kinds" he explained before wiping the tears that began to stream down your cheek.

"Don't cry" he cooed sweetly.

"He gave you away to stop conflicts between the kingdoms... And he didn't want you to worry about him" he explained before sitting up and grabbing something from his bedside, a similar vial to the one with the sleeping potion, but this one had a bubbling liquid that looked like pink molten lava instead.

"What is that?" You asked as your stomach churned in fear but he gave you no reply as he opened it and tried to make you drink it.

You thrashed around and free your head from side to side.

Soon Giorno grabbed you by the chin as he weighed your body down before emptying the vials contents into his mouth before pulling you into a harsh kiss, using his hands to hold your head in place as he forced you to drink the sweet liquid from his soft lips, like how a bird fed it's young.

He didn't stop until he knew you'd drank every drip of the love potion before he got off of you. Throughout the night rest of the he dreamt of how you'd be in the days and years to come as his beautiful wife once you were married.

🌕🌕🌕

You heart fluttered as you walked down the long aisle, people from near and far admiring you in all dressed in white with flower decorating your long hair. You looked in the distance to see your lover king Giorno Giovanna, memories of your true lover were buried away in the deepest parts of your mind.

He gave you a smile and your heart melted, he was like a drug to you. You were so desperate for his attention just so you could feel something, anything. You where nothing without him he was your world, your everything. You needed him, you needed that tingle of cupid's arrow. Nothing else in the world was interesting, just him and only him.

He was your lifeline and you couldn't wait to be his dear wife and to spend everyday of your life with him.

[fan-fantasies]

The Only One

Request: Can you do a Negan imagine where the reader is a worker at the sanctuary and Negan falls for her and tries to get her to agree to being a wife. But she rejects him because she doesn't like the idea of having many wives and then Negan leaves the other wives for her. (and preferably the reader is actually close to Negan's age) thank you!

A/N: Thanks so much for the request! I didn’t really emphasize the age part just to leave the reader in a more general description to relate to more people. I hope that’s okay! -H

Pairing: Negan x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and sexual comments 

Masterlist  

*6 months ago*

“Shit!” You cursed to yourself after you tripped over a branch, falling flat on your face. You weren’t the most graceful person and in an apocalypse it was definitely a downfall. How you had survived this long is beyond you. You quickly got up and tried to run again when you heard a voice closing in on you. 

“Stop runnin’, sweetheart. This isn’t gonna go the way you want it to if you don’t,” the deep voice called to you. You looked back and saw that his group had you surrounded. There was no point in trying to run anymore. You laid down your machete and put your hands up. A red-headed man with a scar across his face grabbed your weapon and pointed his gun at your face. 

“Now, now, Simon, let the lady breathe,” the man with a barbwire bat chuckled. “Now why don’t you tell us your name, honey?”

“(Y/N).” 

“You out here all by your lonesome, (Y/N)?” He asked. You nodded and he seemed to pause to think. 

“What do you say, boss? Think she has value?” A mustached man questioned. The man with the bat that you guessed was in charge smirked. 

“I’m sure we can find a place for her. You don’t give us any trouble and I think you and I will be fast friends.” He sent you a wink and butterflies erupted in your stomach but you brushed it off as nerves. 

“What if I don’t want to go with you?” You asked. 

“You don’t really have a choice,” Simon told you. 

“If you come with us, you’ll be safe. If you try to run, you’ll be dead. Easy math,” mustache man added. 

“Look, honey. My name is Negan and I run the Sanctuary. We work and we have power. We’re the safest option out here. Just come and see what we’re about,” Negan sighed. He offered you a hand to help you out of the ditch you had stumbled into. You took it and he pulled you close to him. He smelled like sweat and whiskey which made your head swim. 

Could going with them really be that bad? If you stayed out here by yourself much longer you’d probably die one way or another but they seemed like they had their shit together. You took a deep breath and nodded for Negan to lead the way. You ended up in the back of a truck where one of the other men explained the point system and everything that the Sanctuary stood for. And that’s how you ended up working in the kitchen, safe behind the walls that Negan built. 

*Present Day*

“He’s staring at you again,” Marsha whispered. You looked over your shoulder and saw Negan’s eyes locked on you. You shook your head and turned back to peeling the potatoes. “Has he asked again?” 

“Of course he has. And he got the same answer as the last two times he asked. I would love to be a wife, not one of the wives.” Negan had been pestering you since you joined his group to become one of his wives. You could live a life of luxury, not having to work or worry about points and if you’d get to eat. But you couldn’t bring yourself to live like that even if it sounded easy. 

You had always dreamed of getting married someday and having a family but then the world went to shit. You had seen people come together in this mess and live as happily as they could. Negan wasn’t one of these people though. He didn’t love his wives. No, he wanted them for sex and nothing more. Despite him being one of the most attractive men you’d laid eyes on, end of the world and before, you’d never put yourself in that position. You wanted someone to love you, not just fuck you. 

“(Y/N), he’s coming over here,” she whispered. You didn’t bother to turn around because you knew if he wanted your attention he’d get it. 

“Boss, can we get you anything?” Marsha asked as soon as he reached the two of you. You rolled your eyes at her. Everyone here fell at his feet and it almost made you sick. You could see through him while no one else could. 

“You can get me a date with your sexy little friend here.” You could practically here the smirk in his tone. You shook your head and handed the peeler to Marsha. 

“I can handle this one,” you sighed. 

“You sure about that, sugar?” He chuckled. 

“While I can’t get you a date, I can get you some pudding. We have some leftover from last night,” you offered. 

“How about we go for a walk,” he said. He nodded toward the door and stared at you. You could tell that he wasn’t asking so you set your apron on the counter and told Marsha you’d be right back to help with dessert. 

Negan took you to the outer fence and walked by the gardens. The sun was setting and everything was quiet for once. You couldn’t help but smile at the peace you felt. 

“You really should give me a chance,” Negan said. You turned toward him and laughed. 

“We’ve discussed this, Negan. I refuse to be part of your little harem. I respect myself too much for that and anyone that asks me to be in that doesn’t respect me at all.” 

“I respect you. That’s why I want you. I want you to be able to live a life of luxury,” he replied. 

“No, you want me to live a life where you get to fuck me whenever you want.” You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Hey,” he grabbed your wrist and made you stop, “that’s not it at all. For starters, I would never make you have sex with me if you didn’t want to. Second, I think you’re a badass chick for respecting yourself. You’re gorgeous and funny and honestly I love your company. You don’t see me taking any of my wives on sunset walks do you?”

“I appreciate that, Negan. I really do. But still, I refuse to be with a man that has other women at his beck and call. That’s just not who I am or what I want,” you explained. 

“I’ll win you over yet, woman,” he smiled. 

“I don’t think so, but I don’t mind you trying,” you admitted. He took your hand in his and the both of you walked the perimeter before you returned to the kitchen. 

After that, you didn’t see Negan for a week. You heard that he had gone out on a few runs but it was strange that he hadn’t stopped in to say hi or bring you a special treat from a run. You hated to admit it but you were starting to miss him. 

On the 8th day of being without Negan, Marsha came into the back of the kitchen with a weird look on her face. 

“What’s up?” You asked. 

“You have to see this,” she said. You didn’t have time to ask her what she meant before she ran out. You set down the mixing bowl you were working with and followed after her. You found her staring out into the dining hall and you followed her gaze. You saw Negan’s wives in normal clothes as opposed to their uniform black dresses. They all looked rather pissed and as if they had been working all day. As a matter of fact, you noticed Sherry with gardening gloves sticking out of her pocket and one of the others had bleach stains on her pants as if she was in the laundry room. 

“What the hell is going on?” You asked. 

“Right? They look like they’re actually working for a living now,” Marsha laughed. 

“Have you seen Negan?” You questioned. 

‘Turn around and you’ll see him yourself,” a deep voice laughed from behind you, the same voice that had saved you months ago. You turned to see Negan with a big smile plastered on his face. “Let’s take a walk.” 

He didn’t wait for your response, just turning and walking out the door. You were frozen in confusion so Marsha gave you a gentle push toward the door. 

“I don’t think he’s gonna wait forever,” she said. She sent you a wink as you went to follow him. You found him waiting outside by the door admiring the clear sky. 

“Beautiful day out,” he said.

“Sure is,” you mumbled, still confused by everything. You hadn’t seen him in a week and now his wives are no longer privileged. 

“Good day for a wedding.” 

“A what?” You asked. He finally stopped gazing at the sky and turned to you. 

“I want you to be my wife. Not one of the wives, just my wife,” he said. 

“But-” 

“It’s you, just you. And it always will be. That’s why I told the other women to beat it. They have to work for a living like everyone else now. I don’t need all those women to fuck, I need a woman that makes me smile, that I enjoy spending time with outside of the bedroom. Although I think you’ll find our time in the bedroom more than satisfactory,” he chuckled. “I want you, (Y/N). Just you.” 

You weren’t sure what to say. This was all so much to process and you were trying to take everything in. You were quiet for too long because Negan spoke up. 

“Don’t leave a man hanging, sweetheart,” he laughed nervously. 

“You really mean it, Negan?” You asked. 

“Cross my heart. There will never be anyone else but you,” he said. You considered it for a moment more. You let out a deep sigh and saw his face dropped. You couldn’t help the smile that lit up your face and he let out a relieved sigh. 

“I’d love to be your wife, Negan. Your only wife.” 

“My one and only, baby. I promise.” He pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss, pulling away only to pull you into a bone crushing hug. “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” 

“I think I have an idea,” you chuckled. He returned your smile and kissed you again. Maybe being a wife wouldn’t be so bad after all, especially since you were the only one.

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

Masterlist: 

Permanent for all: @lokilvrr @m-a-t-91 @blueeyedbesson

[fridgeine]

Just a Bad Dream

Noragami | Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family, PTSD | 1,820 Words

Summary: Yukine’s been plagued by nightmares he can never remember ever since Father cracked his name, and his suffering is hitting too close to home for Yato to deal with. He knows he should quit being selfish and let the kid go, but they’ve got gotten way past the point of no return—because Yukine wasn’t just some kid. He was Yato’s kid. How could he just give that up? 

-------

Nightmares were common for Yukine. 

It really put Yato on edge the first couple times he caught his kid jerking out of his slumber. He feared he was about to lose him—that Father had exposed another one of his shinki to God’s greatest secret. He felt helpless (still did) because he knew that it’d be nearly impossible to reel Yukine back in if he remembered too much.  

But thankfully, Yukine didn’t seem to remember anything. 

Each time Yato caught him waking up from what was an obvious bad dream, he would make sure to ask him if he wanted to talk about it. He hated having to because it felt too risky to encourage Yukine to reminisce, but he needed to know how bad things were getting. Luckily for him though, Yukine always said there was nothing to talk about because he couldn’t remember any part of it. It seemed that the memories burned up as quick as a sheet of paper in a bonfire the second Yukine woke up. 

But things were never so easy and you should never count your chickens before they hatch because everything got worse after the box. Yukine began to recall details in his dreams, details that felt like claws slicing down Yato’s back upon hearing them. They didn’t pinch his heart though or anything—to Yukine, they were practically meaningless and he probably just chalked them up to just details from Heaven’s box—not the other one—not the one Yato truly feared. 

Regardless, Yato tried his best to comfort and distract his kid. Yet, his efforts only seemed futile because the nightmares just got worse and worse, occurring almost every other night. It was getting difficult to keep up with and it was rare for even just one of them to get a good night of sleep (let alone a full one.)

But Yato would sacrifice a thousand nights if it meant Yukine got to live through one more. 

Although, there was one night in particular where Yato felt the ball drop. He wished he could say that he didn’t hesitate to catch it—but once his eyes locked on Yukine’s futon and he saw the small form under the covers thrashing back and forth like a fish suffocating on land, crying and begging into the silent night air—images of Sakura flashed across his vision and he froze. 

It felt like the end of the world. 

Of course, technically it was because Yukine was his whole world. The light that chased away the darkness in his heart. 

Ever since he met Yukine, he felt like he had a chance. The first time he met the kid’s eyes—the kid who’d eventually become his kid—he felt the wind change direction. 

In those eyes, existed a brighter, better future without calamity and darkness. And all Yato wanted to do was love, cherish, and nurture it. Make sure the two of them got the future they deserved. As a proper family with Hiyori, Daikoku, and Kofuku—and possibly even Hiiro, Ebisu, Tenjin, Mayu, Kazuma, and the crazy bitch—everybody he owed a better future to. 

But there was one thing... a shadow that lurked never too far behind wherever he went... a dark shadow immune to any and all light... 

Yaboku.

Who wasn’t created to love. Only to destroy.

To cull. 

He should have learned his lesson with Sakura.

Or... maybe he had. Maybe that was why he hesitated. Why he let his kid suffer through his traumatic memories. Why he let him plead for a life he no longer had to a man who never loved him. 

It really made the déjà vu kick in. A son, clinging to the robes of a father who felt no sympathy for his creation. Who didn’t dither to allow his child to be suffocated by the darkness he forced upon him.

Perhaps, Yato was wrong for thinking he’d be able to provide Yukine with a better second life. How could he give his kid what he needed when he too, never had it? 

He should have learned his lesson with Sakura. 

With trembling fingers, Yato raised his hand. He could see it all unraveling underneath the warm glow of Yukine’s desk lamp—the spreading blight, the eldritch all-seeing eyeballs, the emerging deformed bat wings. His kid falling from grace and morphing into a sinful hellion. All of it entirely Yato’s fault. 

He should have learned his lesson with Sakura. 

Yato’s mouth formed the words his heart would never let him say. It would be the responsible thing to do—Yukine deserved better—but the kanji didn’t rise off the kid’s skin (if it was still even there and not erased by the tainted rotten purple.) He couldn’t say the words, couldn’t let go of Yukine. He had promised the kid forever despite how selfish and stupid it was. Even as a god, Yato could never give anyone forever because 

he didn’t have it.

Suddenly, Yukine let out a strangled whimper, shooting out a fist straight into the bedside lamp. It crashed against the hardwood with the bulb shattering on impact. The room was then plunged into darkness. Yato couldn’t see his dying child anymore. 

Maybe that was a good thing.

It’s been centuries and Sakura’s karma form was still painted on the back of Yato’s eyelids. He didn’t need Yukine’s there too. 

But then—through the pitch-black—Yukine called out a name that broke Yato right out of his stupor. His name. Not only was his kid still in there, but he needed him. Wanted him.

He darted over to Yukine’s futon and immediately gathered the smaller body into his arms. The kid struggled—no doubt still in dreamland—and kicked harshly into Yato’s abdomen. But he didn’t care, didn’t let go, only held on tighter. Anything to keep his kid from breaking apart. 

Carefully, as if he was handling glass, Yato crooned words of comfort as he rocked them back and forth. He then noticed a distinct lack of ayakashi features. There was no trace of blighting as well. The karma was gone like a lightning flash. Almost as if he imagined it. 

Maybe he did. 

Maybe he was losing it.

With a quiet sigh, Yato ran his fingers through Yukine’s messy bed head. “It’s okay, Yukine, I’m here.” The kid was beginning to cease his struggles and Yato felt the barbwire knot in his heart loosen and dull.  

“You’re not in there anymore. He can’t hurt you.” Yato leaned down to bury his face into his hair. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”

He planted a kiss. Soft and tender. As if he didn’t deserve to love something so precious. “I’m here so please don’t leave me.”

I need you.

Yato closed his eyes and continued to rock them. There was one hint of distress from Yukine that stubbornly stayed embedded in his chest. It speared through his ribcage and impaled his heart on a steel cold blade. Yato felt winded and exhaustion was yanking on his eyelids. Yukine’s negative emotions always made him feel like he just finished running a marathon. Sometimes he wished the bond worked both ways, so he could soothe his kid with his own warm affection. But then again, it was probably for the best that Yukine’s heart stayed one-sided with his—he didn’t want to be the one to snuff out that flame with his own anguish. 

He was already leading them down a path of mutual destruction as it was.

As Yukine fell limper in his arms, he hefted the kid up and onto his lap, guiding his head so his cheek rested against his shoulder. Yukine’s hand remained fisted in Yato’s white t-shirt, and he decided to just leave it. There was a wet circle on his chest where all of his kid’s tears fell, he barely even noticed. 

Under the moonlight, Yukine’s face was scrunched up in pain when he should look the most at peace. (He used too... before the clash with Father.) Yato wanted to soothe out all those disgruntled wrinkles, bring back the much-needed tranquility.

He didn’t know what possessed him at that moment, what thought that led to his next action. But as they rocked, as Yato held his kid in his arms, as they calmed down together in the stillness of the night... he let out a humming sound. Eventually, letting it get louder and louder until the hum turned into words and he was softly singing. 

The song was old, he was sure of it, but it was the most calming one he could think of. He didn’t even remember what exactly he knew it from. Maybe the radio... or the television... perhaps just someone he passed by one day. There weren’t many places to hear a lullaby... and Father never sang any to him. 

Maybe he should learn more songs, this was kind of nice. 

After finishing the lyrics he knew and making it halfway through an encore of them, Yukine started to stir. 

“...Yato?” He yawned, letting go of Yato’s shirt to rub at his eye. 

Yato couldn’t help but smile softly. He was still here. Still Yukine. 

That future without darkness was still visible in those amber eyes. 

They were still okay. 

“Shhh.” Yato smoothed down the back of his hair. He felt confusion pool into his chest as he softly shushed and pet his kid, but Yukine didn’t attempt to wiggle out of his arms just yet. “You were having a nightmare.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Yukine made a noise of indifference as he nestled into Yato’s chest. He let out a small sigh. “No. I don’t remember what it was about. Sorry, I woke you.” His eyes slid closed once again. 

“It’s okay,” Yato whispered. 

He let his kid fall into an actual peaceful slumber, milking the tranquil ocean waves that washed over his chest, rocking his heart back and forth while swaddling it in a fuzzy warmth. He let Yukine light up his heart once more. 

Yaboku wasn’t created to love, but Yato was able to learn (with the help of Yukine and Hiyori, of course) and that was enough. 

Maybe they didn’t have forever, maybe the past was too painful to reminiscent on, and maybe the future was a tad too bleak sometimes, but the present was a work in progress and that was enough. 

It was enough because ever since Yato met Yukine, he felt like it was possible to change fate. So long as he followed his guidepost to the future he saw in his eyes. 

So long as he stayed away from the darkness. 

Perhaps he had learned his lesson with Sakura, not the one Father wanted him to learn but the one Sakura herself taught Yato. 

The lesson of what actual love was. Of goodness and care. 

Of life and death. 

Of family. 

-------

Author’s Note: this is 100% pure self-indulgence. I really just wanted to write a fic where Yato comforts Yukine after a nightmare with a lullaby. The manga has been really painful these latest chapters sooo I needed some father/son sweetness from these two to hold me over. Hope y’all enjoyed it~

[the-daily-multi-fandom-post]

Shane x Reader where Reader has a ten inch gash on her arm and Hershel must sew it without any type of pain killer (they ran out). Reader is sitting with her face hidden in her good arm. She just wants to pass out but Shane is trying to keep her awake. THANK YOU!! 🥺

Request link ( here! )

Y/n knew she messed up when she had that big gash on her arm. She was bleeding and losing blood fast. She was walking in the woods and a barbwire fence had caught her shirt. She was trying to pull her shirt out when the fence had bit into her arm slicing it down about 10 inches.

She yelled when she did it. Looking down at the gash it was deep. How deep she didn’t know out she could fit her pointer finger in the wound.

Shane was watching her from afar. He cared about her and always made sure she was okay when she went out.

He came running to help her. His gun in his hands in case he needed it. When he got to her he noticed she had her shirt ripped and wrapped around her arm. Blood was covering her arm and covering over the ripped shirt.

“What happened?”

“I had a fight with a barbwire fence.” Shane looked at her and nodded with a of a soft chuckle coming out.

“How bad is the wound?” He asked as he started to carefully unwrap her arm to examine the wound.

“We need to get you to Hershel. Your losing a lot of blood. The wounds to deep just to wrap it in a shirt.” Y/n winced as Shane covered the 10 inch gash wound in her arm.

“I’m sorry, Baby.” He spoke softly.

“It’s okay.”

Shane walked into the living room with y/n beside him telling Hershel what was going on. Hershel unwrapped her arm and looked over the wound.

“Your gonna need stitches. But I have some bad news with that.” Hershel started. He grabbed a clean rag, alcohol, needle and thread.

“I don’t have any pain medicine. So, it’s going to hurt more than it should.”

Y/n sighed as Shane looked at her.

“Alright, lets get started.” Shane wrapped his arm around Y/ns shoulder and watched as Hershel started to stich the wound.

“So how did you do this?” Shane asked trying to keep y/n awake.

“My shirt got caught in the barbwire fence. I tried to pull it out and my arm got caught in it. When I pulled it made the big gash. I knew I shouldn’t have pulled because it was making the gash bigger, but I knew if I yelled for help I could have led the dead straight to us or to me. And I wouldn’t be able to do anything while I was stuck.” Y/n explained wincing every now and then when she felt the needle dig into her arm.

A few minutes later Shane was rubbing her back trying to relax her. Y/n had her head on her good arm, breathing through the pain.

“Alright, I’m all done.” Hershel finished. Tying a knot to keep the stich from coming out.

“You did good, honey.”

She nodded as she laid her head on his soft shoulder.

“Thank you, Hershel.” Y/n thanked the older man giving him a soft smile. The pain was there, but not as bad as it had been.

“Your welcome. Make sure you keep it clean, try not to do much with that arm. It’ll rip the stitches.” Y/n nodded as Shane shook the older mans hand. Nodding a thank you to him.

“Thank you, Shane. For everything.” Shane nodded as he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. -careful not to hurt her arm.

“There’s no need to thank me. There’s nothing on this world I wouldn’t do for you.”

She smiled as she looked into his brown eyes.

“I love you.” He confessed looking into her soft (y/e/c) eyes.

She smiled as she leaned forwards on her tip toes. Kissing his lips softly.

“I love you too.”

Tags:

@thanossexual

[foreverfangirlalways]

The Astronomer and The Florist  (Chapter 9)

Summery: Logan and Virgil finally get to go on the Stargazing date that the author has been teasing you with since chapter 1!!!

Ships: Analogical & Royality

Warning: Mild Panic attack, Roman and Patton are told EVERYTHING, the writer has absolutely no idea how Skype works, also friendly threatening and freak outs

-let me know if I need to add more warnings-(I hope this is everything y’all have been wanting and more! )

----

Virgil woke up with a start. “Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh!!!!” Virgil said, everything that happened last night rushing through his mind.

“I got a boyfriend and didn’t tell Roman! He’s going to kill me if Patton doesn’t first! And I can’t be killed before I’ve went on a proper date with him!”

Virgil then lunges for his phone, completely disregarding the fact that he has been talking to himself for the past three minutes.

Virgil dialed Patton’s number first. Patton answered on the third ring.

“Good morning Virgil! How wa-“

“One second Pat!” Virgil said while interrupting Patton. “I gotta connect Roman so he doesn’t murder me for not telling him first!”

There was a click heard and then a rather extra “GREETINGS!” that could only have came from Roman.

“Virgil, kiddo, can you tell us what this is about now? Your kinda scaring me. Was the Party bad?”

“Oh, no, the Party was fine! Well, aside from the fact that Michael was an asshole, and then he tried to force me to kiss him while I was getting some punch, but it’s fine because Logan pushed him onto the ground! Logan then told Michael to, and I quote, “Stay the hell away from my boyfriend you malignant fuck!” Yeah, he actually said boyfriend!”

Virgil paused to breathe, but continued before Patton could voice his growing list of questions. “Michael tried insinuating that I was fine with his very UNWANTED advances while calling me a whore. But Logan defended me by punching Michael! I convinced Logan to stop after the third punch, don’t worry. Logan then comforted me while threatening Michael. Michael started yelling at Logan and threatened to call the cop.

Logan said that he was just protecting his BOYFRIEND from an attempt assault, so go ahead. Michael then told Logan that he would make sure Logan gets fired. THEN LOGAN TOLD MICHAEL HE ALREADY QUIT!” Virgil yelled out then started laughing.

“Y’all should have seen Michael’s face, he was furious! It was honestly the greatest thing I have ever seen. Logan then said goodbye and started leading me to the car. Before we made it, Logan turned around and off handedly told Michael to look up the meaning of the bouquet. Logan then turned back around, made sure we were both strapped into the car, and drove off. That was pretty much it for the Party.”

Patton and Roman were silent.

“Uhh, guys? You didn’t hang up did you?” Virgil asked apprehensively.

Roman screeches, “LOGAN DID WHAT?!” At the exact same times as Patton asked, in a scarily calm voice, “Do you happen to have Michael’s address?”

Virgil, deciding to let Logan give Roman the details of his ‘heroic save’, focused on Patton’s question.

“Umm, no Patton, I don’t know Michael’s address. May I ask why you want it?”

“Oh, no reason!” Patton giggled. “On a completely unrelated note, do either of y’all know where I put the barbwire? I think my old tennis racket needs to be redecorated!” Patton said in an eerily cheery voice.

“Yeah, you’re never allowed barbwire again.” Roman said. “Anyways, Logan called you his boyfriend? Twice?”

“Yeah! Can you believe it?” Patton and Roman full on laughed out loud.

“Yeah kiddo, I’m pretty sure we all knew y’all like eachother.”

Virgil smirked, and then texted Logan if he could go ahead and tell Patton and Roman that they are officially boyfriends. Logan immediately responded and suggested a group Skype, as to see their reactions.

“Hey guys, can we do a group Skype in 10 minutes? I have something I want to tell you, but face to face. Sort of.”

They both nervously agreed, and Virgil ended the phone call. Virgil threw on a faded Fall Out Boy t-shirt and ruffled his hair a bit. Once he deemed himself ‘stylishly disheveled’ (Read: put together enough to see Logan without being too embarrassed) he fired up his computer and logged onto Skype. He set up the group time, and then sent everyone the invite. Once he saw that everyone had accepted and was waiting, he started the Skype.

Patton was sitting on his bed with his cat hoodie on and the hood up.

Roman lounging on what looked to be his favorite beanbag chair in a red pajama shirt that has a crown on it.

Logan looked to be in what could only be his office, wearing his usual outfit, sans the tie and with the top few buttons undone . That had Virgil blushing, purely for the fact that it reminded him of when he had taken off Logan’s tie yesterday.

“So,” Roman said, “care to tell us what this is all about?” Virgil began to wonder how he and Logan were gonna tell their little boyfriend not-so-secret.

Logan decided to ignore Roman for the time being and smirked at Virgil, knowing that he was remembering the tie situation yesterday because Logan purposefully did his shirt in that way so he would.

“Why good morning darling.” Logan said to Virgil, instantly making him blush more and making Roman and Patton’s jaws drop.

‘Well, that’s one way to do it’ Virgil thought.

“I must say,” Logan continued, spurred on by everyone’s reactions, “you look exceptionally adorable in that t-shirt with your hair ruffled.

Virgil was blushing hard and was about 5 seconds away from making this his new permanent hair style. Then he saw Patton and Roman looking shookth, and decided to play along.

“Thanks babe! I’m glad you like it. I see you also like the new look I had you try yesterday.”

Logan shows the barest hints of a blush, and smirks at Virgil. “Well, that and I seemed to have left my favorite tie at your house.”

Patton and a chocking noise and Logan began to think he took it a bit too far. Virgil looked alarmed and blurted out, “Don’t worry Pat! It’s not what you think, I just took off Logan’s tie before we went to the Party and he didn’t get it before we headed out.”

Everyone was quite for a minute, then Roman was laughing THE MOST extra laugh ever, and Patton was thrown into a fit of giggles.

“Virgil, you think that you broke Patton because he thought y’all slept together? Common, we’re not stupid, we know your feelings on one night stands. No, it’s because y’all are acting like an actual couple.” Roman said.

“Well,” Logan interjected, giving Virgil a sly glance that instantly made him nervous.

“I do believe that boyfriends are supposed to, as you said, ‘act like a couple’.”

‘Well damn.’ Thought Virgil. ‘That cat just got thrown out of the metaphorical bag.’

Patton started squealing, and Roman demanded all the details. Virgil told most of the story with Logan occasionally interjecting.

“... and then I went to bed, got up, and called y’all, and, well, you know the rest.

“Oh my gosh! Y’all are going on a date today?! Virgil, I’ll be over at your house in about an hour to help you get ready!” Patton squealed.

Virgil just chuckled and nodded, knowing there would be no talking Patton out of it.

“Oh, and Logan?” Patton said, a slightly scary glint in his eyes. “Remember what I had texted you about earlier this week?”

Logan gulped. “I do believe I know what you are referring to, yes.” Patton simply smiled. “Good. Crofters.” Logan blanched, and looked at Roman in betrayal. Roman was carefully not looking at Logan, and Virgil was completely confused.

“Welp!” Patton chirped, his happy, bouncy demeanor immediately restored. “I better go, I gotta go to Virgil’s! Hey, I’ll bring lunch, what do you want?”

“Wendy’s.” Virgil answered immediately. “You know what I like.”

Patton nodded, waved, and then exited the Skype call.

“Roman, will you assist me in the way Patton is assisting Virgil?” Logan asked. “Sure thing! I’m getting Taco Casa, you want your usual?” “That sounds quite satisfactory, thank you.” Roman left the same way Patton did, and then Virgil and Logan stared at eachother for a minute.

“Well, at least no one died!” Logan laughed at Virgil’s words, and felt happy. “By the way,” Logan said, “I’d dress comfy and warm. We will be outside all night.”

Virgil nodded. “I will. Now you go take a nap. I can’t have you falling asleep on our first date!”

Logan smiled. “Same to you. Though, I wouldn’t mind cuddling you under the stars.”

Virgil signed of with a blush and a smile. They both went and took a quick power nap, preparing for tonight and what comes before.

-_-_-_-

After lunch, Roman started to question Logan about his plans for the date. After Roman properly deemed them ‘romantic’ enough, they both contacted Patton to find out various things that Virgil likes. Then, they got set on preparing everything.

-_-_-_-

Patton dropped an excited Virgil off at Starbucks for his date. They had a lot of fun picking out Virgil’s outfit of his favorite patchwork hoodie, a distressed purple shirt, and ripped darkwash jeans. Patton even did Virgil’s nails in a galaxy theme in honor of the date.

Virgil smiled shyly when he saw Logan waiting for him by the door. Logan smiled as he took Virgil’s hand and lead him inside.

“Are you ready for our first date my dear?” Virgil blushed and nodded.

They ordered their coffee, got in Logan’s car, and headed out to the meadow. As soon as they arrived, Logan put a blindfold on Virgil.

“Well, this is new. I have to tell you, if you are planning on killing me Patton told me to tell you that he’s planning on making a new flower garden, and bodies make excellent fertilizer. And Patton’s not talking about mine.”

Logan froze. Patton seemed like such a sweet person who would never hurt a fly, but every time Patton threatens him, he becomes just a bit more terrified of the peppy man.

“Uhhh, I promise I’m not going to kill you. And can you, ummm, please tell Patton you had a good time? As long as you actually do, of course!” Logan rushed out in a stuttering voice.

Virgil busted out laughing. “Don’t worry babe, I’ll protect you from the big bad Patton.”

Logan blushed and chuckled. He then led Virgil out to the picnic blanket he and Roman had set out earlier. Logan faces Virgil in front of the picnic, and then removed his blindfold.

Virgil gasped, bringing his hands up to his mouth. “Logan, wha-?”

Logan, thinking Virgil hates everything, immediately started explaining.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have asked you if you wanted to have a picnic! I just thought it would be a good idea to snack and talk while we wait for it to get dark enough. I Roman and I got Patton to text us all of your favorite snacks and sodas, but if you don’t like it-“

Virgil laughed, silencing Logan’s rambling. “Logan, how could I not like this? This is honestly the most thoughtful thing that anyone has ever done for me... I love it!”

Logan let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and then he squeezed Virgil in a tight hug.

“I’m so glad you like it! I wanted this to be special for you. So, shall we?”

Virgil nodded, and Logan started unloading the picnic basket while Virgil got himself situated. They snacked on soft pretzels, red velvet cupcakes, and potato chips while talking. They joked and told eachother stories until it got dark enough for the stars to be seen clearly.

Virgil started to get a crick in his neck, and saw that Logan was slightly shivering. Virgil then saw an opportunity to make Logan blush as much as he has been making Virgil.

“Hey Logan?”

“Hmmm?” Logan hummed, looking over at Virgil. Virgil smirked, and then... “I thought that you said to dress warmly? I can see you shivering.”

Logan looked down at his shirt and sighed. “It is long sleeve, and I thought it would be warm enough. It appears I was wrong though.”

Logan looked back up at Virgil, and wondered what that particular smirk meant. He didn’t have to wonder long.

“Well,” Virgil said while shimmying out of his hoodie a bit, “lucky for you, you have a gracious boyfriend who is will to share his hoodie as long as you cuddle with him under the stars.”

‘Mission accomplished!’ Virgil thought when he say the coloring of Logan’s face.

“Oh, well, that would be, uhh, quite satisfactory.” Logan sputtered out. Virgil grinned, then Logan spoke again. “But, how will we ‘share the hoodie,’ as you put it?”

Virgil just rolled his eyes and looked fondly at his oblivious boyfriend. “Obviously we will lay down on the blanket and hold each as we cuddle with the hoodie draped over us.”

Virgil laughed at the redness of his boyfriends face. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to...” “NO!” Logan interrupted. Virgil thought he had went a bit too far until Logan continued.

“I mean, uhh, I really want to. I would like that.” Logan, deciding that it’s Virgil turn to be the stuttering, blushing mess, picked up Virgil and plopped him in his lap.

It had the desired effect. Virgil blushes, and curls into Logan’s chest. Logan smiles and presses his face into Virgil’s hair.

Logan then laid them back, drawing Virgil close. Virgil draped the hoodie across them both, and then they looked up at the stars. Logan told Virgil facts about the various constellation he pointed out, such as Cancer, and he told Virgil the myth of Corona Australius, Logan’s favorite constellation.

They stayed out there, just talking and cuddling, all night. They both fell asleep around 3 in the morning, and then woke up in eachothers arms a bit after sunrise.

Neither of them lost the smiles they had on their faces while they packed up everything and went to the car. Virgil suggested going to Huddle House for breakfast, and Logan agreed whole heartily.

So they went and had waffles, and shared a strawberry milkshake. “Hmm,” Logan said after taking a sip of the milkshake. “This is almost as sweet as you are.”

Virgil buried his head in his hands, and mumbled something about ‘stupid flirty boyfriends.’ Logan just laughed and pushed the milkshake towards Virgil.

After breakfast, Logan drives to Virgil’s house and walks Virgil up to the door.

“I had a wonderful time.” Virgil said, reaching for and holding Logan’s hand. Logan smiled and pulled Virgil forward.

“I also had an excellent time. This has truly been the best date I’ve ever had. Because it was with you.” Virgil smiled and blushed, looking down shyly. Logan leaned forward and kissed Virgil on the forehead, the presses their foreheads together. Virgil looked up at Logan slyly.

“Hey Logan?” Logan lifted his head away and looked Virgil in the eyes. Virgil smirked.

“You missed.” Virgil said, then wrapped his arms around Logan’s neck and kissed him on the mouth.

Logan was frozen for a total of 5 seconds before he felt a rush of happiness corse through him, and kissed Virgil back.

They kissed and didn’t feel fireworks, but the butterflies were there, as was an overwhelming sense of rightness. They kissed and hugged and said goodbye, telling eachother that they will text after a proper nap.

As Logan left with a giant smile on his face, he didn’t notice the car across the street that held his best friend and a man he is slightly terrified of, who were both freaking out and waving their phones around, simply delighted to have taken pictures of the flirty first kiss.

Taglist-

@dragonwithproblems

@five-falseh00ds-ph0nated

@sanders-sides-with-quinn

@rainbowemonightmare

@aleiimm

@007ardra

@yikesdodson

@kawaiikat54

@thefingergunsgirl

@nerdycupcake559

@softestvirgil

@teacupfulofstarshine

@impatentpending

@star-crossed-shipper

[fangbites]

Who: Felix With: Tate ( @sxncerelyme​ ) Verse: Love on the Range Prompt: send me a 💏 and i will randomise a number in order for my muse to kiss yours... 10. Desperately.

Felix had fucked up.

The thing was, he’d slept around with the city slickers that stayed at Abuela’s Bed and Breakfast plenty of times. He’d been discrete, maybe not discrete enough but honestly, would she have preferred he reject them? Huh? All he was doin’ was making their stays a lil more enjoyable. He stuck by that. It wasn’t purely selfless, he wasn’t that much of a saint, but... it didn’t have to be somethin’ totally selfish either.

But god, if this last one hadn’t gotten under his skin.

It wasn’t just that Tate was the prettiest human being Felix had ever seen, including magazines and the grand silver screen itself. It was the way he looked at Felix with those big, soft brown eyes of his, like he could see through all his layers and pretense just as clear as day. It was the way he called him on his shit and met his challenging words head on and still touched Felix with an air of almost delicacy, an arm gentle around his shoulder, the soft way he’d nudge Felix’s chin up with his fingertips sometimes when they kissed despite the filthy mouths between them and the decided lack of shame all around. They way he treated him like something soft even though Felix had spent the first week just trying to display all his barbwired edges and keep the saccharine intimacy at bay. 

Tate saw him. Saw the best and the worst of him for what it was, and he chose to spend his time with him anyways. The way they behaved together, like a couple of rowdy, insatiable teens, you’d think they were all rough and passionate fire nonstop- and maybe sometimes they were- but Tate had this way of warming him from the inside out, this way of melting him without scorching and turning his brain all soft and mushy and stupid.

He’d never had this before. A- they weren’t even boyfriends- but a significant someone who could just fucking smile at him and turn his guts to warm syrup. A significant someone that had him craving hugs and forehead kisses more than sex. A significant someone where just the prospect of holding hands and taking naps together on a rainy afternoon was enough to have him tearing up with want.

So yeah. It was safe to say that Felix had fucked up. Like, really fucked up, in a big, irreversible way.

And now the month- long stay was at an end, and Tate was meant to be leaving. Tomorrow.

There was something sick in Felix’s stomach. Something that felt like both nausea and like a clawed fist had a vice grip around his throat. It hurt in a physical, tangible way. He’d been growing steadily colder this past week, dreading the end, dreading good- fucking- bye, and he knew Tate knew. Knew he was picking up on it, knew he was hurting, and Felix hated himself for it but what the fuck else was he supposed to do? 

The one and only time he’d visited the big city at fifteen it had left him so panicked and anxious that he’d hid in the McDonald’s bathroom crying and hyperventilating to the point where his fucked- up heart had just about gone into cardiac arrest and he’d had to be taken out on a stretcher. It was the worst, most embarrassing day of his life, and he’d never gone back. But Tate had a whole life there. Had a job, a home of his own, friends, fuck knew what all else. Felix didn’t even know all that much about him. Oh, they’d spent hours pillow- talking, hours just curled up trading facts and asking questions- but it felt like there was still this chasm of information that Felix didn’t know. That maybe he’d never know. And that hurt.

The point was, where the fuck did he get off even thinking about asking him to stay? Asking him to give all that up for this one hot fucking mess of a poor, anxious reclusive country boy with a grand total of one friend, maybe one and a half friends if you squinted really hard at Davis and not much more than a ramshackle little farmhouse to his name- it was unbelievably selfish.

So fucking selfish. And yet, Felix couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He’d told Tate he wasn’t going to come to the bonfire. Part of that was because he just didn’t want to fucking be a part of this sending away party. He didn’t want to say goodbye. Didn’t think he could. This was the part where he let him go, sent him off to a life that was far more than anything he would ever have here- but it was... it was hard. Far more difficult than he’d ever anticipated.

He hadn’t expected to fall in love with him.

There was a part of him that questioned whether he even knew what love was. It wasn’t selfish, right? There was some bible verse or another about that, but he’d always been terrible at paying attention in church, heathen that he was. It wasn’t selfish, and Felix was fucking selfish because he’d shown up at this shitty stupid sendaway bonfire.

And Tate... he looked rougher than Felix had anticipated. 

He didn’t want it to be because of him, because that would have been fucking shitty, but at the same time- maybe it meant something. Maybe it could mean the same thing that Felix looking like regurgitated trash meant. 

“I need to tell you something,” He said, quiet, not even really meeting Tate’s eyes as he grabbed the sleeve of the man’s hoodie and hauled him out of his seat by the bonfire and off into the shadows at the edge of the party. Maybe he should have asked, maybe he should have- but he hadn’t. And now all that was left to do was to slice himself open and spill his guts.

“Just- just let me get this out, alright? And then you can tell me to fuck off or slap me or whatever, I know I probably deserve it. I haven’t- I haven’t been fair to you this past week. I know that. I’ve been...” Felix swallowed hard, eyes glassing over as he finally forced them to meet Tate’s. “Selfish. And I’m going to be selfish for a little longer.”

It was the scariest thing he’d ever done.

“I’m in love with you. I know it’s only been a month and I know we don’t- objectively don’t know everything about each other but you know all the parts of me that matter. You know I’m a bitch when I get jealous and you know I get jealous real easy. And you know I have a shitty heart and can’t eat citrus and that the only thing I can cook is eggs and that I’m allergic to basically all sea food and you know that my hands and feet are always cold and you sleep with me anyway. And I know how you snore a little bit when you sleep and the way you smile widest when you don’t really mean it and that you can’t fucking grow anything more than like a stupid little bit of peachfuzz, and you’re so fucking proud of your stupid little peachfuzz beard, and I think that’s so adorable that it’s made me love your stupid peachfuzz just because you’re so proud of it- and you can’t handle losing at checkers you big baby, and you’re really good at drawing and you like drawing trees and you’re allergic to bananas. I know your favorite color and that you’re pretty shameless and you don’t like beating around the bush. And I- I’ve been beating around the bush basically this whole time and I- I wanted to let you go back to this big city life you had because you’re gorgeous and talented and the kind of pretty that belongs in a big city, seen and appreciated by everyone. And I know loving someone means wanting what’s best for them but I just really, really want you to stay here. Stay with me. Please. And we can keep finding out all this stupid shit about each other and I’ll make you eggs for breakfast and you can make me pancakes and we’ll nap on my couch while it’s raining. And we’ll be happy together, I know we will, because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything and I think- I think you love me too. So please.” 

Felix was crying, the messy, awful kind of crying that he hated to do in front of anyone ever, but he didn’t let it stop him from slipping a hand up Tate’s shoulders to curl around the back of his neck while his other hand gripped at his hip, secure. He didn’t let it stop him from kissing him, either, rough and needy and just plain desperate. The movement of his lips was a plea, even if he was no longer speaking- and he didn’t stop with just the one kiss, either, didn’t try very hard to keep it chaste because this was it. Maybe he’d pull away and Tate would tell him he was sorry, but he just couldn’t. Maybe he’d break Felix’s heart. Break his own heart. Who knew?

He kissed Tate until his head was spinning, dizzy, until his lungs screamed for air and he was forced to pull away. He stood, panting for just a moment with his eyes still shut before he finally opened them, looking at this face he loved so much.

“Please don’t leave me,” He whispered, waiting with a heart filled with dread and hope in equal measure.

[bastillewolf]

The Grand Tranquility Hotel (VII)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: An eccentric hotel owner and an inquisitive writer find solace in each other when they both seemed to be at the edge of rock bottom.

Notes: Two chapters in one day because I had a lot of inspiration. Make sure you didn’t miss chapter six!

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

Chapter VII - Batphone

It was an early morning for her, and perhaps it was because of the renewed feeling of tranquility she’d gotten after speaking with mister Turner. She felt as if she’d taken big steps forwards with him, especially when it came to gaining his delicate trust, and though she didn’t want to admit it, she was looking forward to spending more time with him soon.

She’d thrown on a floral dress for no particular occasion, and her brown shoes tapped down the stairs in search of the way to the dining hall. However, when she heard the distinct sound of voices coming from the lobby, she took a detour.

She was greeted with the sight of the hotel owner himself, joined not only by his staff, but by Miles as well. A smaller suitcase stood next to him on the floor and he was wearing a dark trench coat with its collar lifted. His eyes, covered by his aviator shades, finally noticed her figure in the doorway and he motioned for her to come closer. Miles gave her a quick kiss on the cheek to greet her before Alex stepped her aside. “I’m afraid your novel research is going to be delayed for a bit,” he explained, “Miles and I have some unforeseen business to attend to. However, I’ll ask Matthew to keep you entertained with a few of his notorious tales about the hotel. I won’t be gone for longer than a day.”

“Oh, alright,” she replied stumblingly, “Why are you so suddenly keen on helping me write this novel? It appears as if you’re really going out of your way to provide me with all the details. Don’t bother Matthew with it though, I’m sure he’ll have enough to do as it is while you’re gone, mister Turner.” She saw a glint of something she couldn’t place flash across his eyes. “Who’s seeing ulterior motives behind everything now, writer?” he asked in amusement. She narrowed his eyes at him, to which he only gave a smirk.

“Matthew, I’m leaving you in charge,” Alex proclaimed, handing him the main set of keys. “Don’t set anything on fire, please.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Matt replied innocently. Alex snorted and Matt smiled, but as the hotel owner turned his back to him she noticed him tucked the keys in his pocket with a shaking hand. What was going on? His eyes were darting to the doors and as they walked to the car to wave the two men off, he kept his gaze searching across the yard.

As soon as they were inside, she turned to the man at hand. “Matthew, you’re acting strange and I can tell it’s not because of mister Turner’s absence. What’s happening?”

“It’s nothing, miss,” Matt replied, trying, but very much failing, at sounding casual. “I was just checking if the gardener had already finished his job.” She hummed, “Sure you have.” He raised his brow at her. “There’s no need for concern, miss, truly. And after all, you already have mister Turner to worry about. No need to add fuel to the fire.” Her mouth dropped open as a pink colour dusted her cheeks. He’d ran out the front entrance before she was able to smack him.

“Is there anything I can help you with today, Nick? I get awfully bored these days,” she mused. Nick gave her a meek smile. “Glad we’re such good entertainment for you, miss. Do you have any experience with accountancy?” “Loads,” she replied, “Used to do the taxes for my mother, too.” “Great. It’s the box in the back office, the newer files need to be taken care of and sorted, if you have the patience for it.” “Only for you, Nicholas.”

Taking her seat at the desk behind the television screens, she was reminded of the incessant static noise filling the room. She decided to try to refrain from ripping the plugs out of their sockets and focused on the heaping box in front of her. It was a disorganized mess, but having experienced the way her mother used to sort things, she knew she’d do fine.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it was only when reading the last file that needed to be sorted, did she notice something strange. It led her to reach for older transcriptions that she’d previously sorted, and the non-matching data only confused her more.

When Nick finally showed up again, looking like a dishevelled mess, he asked her if she could go and help Matt outside for a moment, instead.

“Uh, sure,” she replied half-heartedly, her eyes still glued to the papers, “By the way, I was just going through your accounts and I found a returning bank account you’ve been transferring money to for a while. It’s cashed under ‘taxes’, I think?” She said, handing him one of the invoices. “Oh, that’s just what we pay Miles as additional taxes to the rent,” Nick explained. “Yeah, I thought that was the case, but when I checked the credit numbers they didn’t match with the ones you’ve been sending the actual rent to. Just thought you might want to look into it, just in case.”

Nick furrowed his brow in worry. “Uh, I’ll take a look at it. You better go and help Matt and Jamie, though. I think they’re right outside.” “Sure.” As she stepped out, she heard Nick hurriedly dial a number on the office’s phone.

She eventually managed to find them at the stables, and only then did she realize what had caused Matt to look so stressed and Jamie so upset. “What the fuck happened?” she sputtered.

The door was open, and Mardy’s box was empty.

“I couldn’t tell Alex, miss,” Matt explained sadly, “You’ve gotten him in such a good mood since yesterday, I didn’t want to see him pissed again.” She raised his eyebrows in silent inquiry to elaborate. “I-I think I remember locking the door…” She groaned, “Matthew.” “Alex put me in charge not knowing I lost his fucking horse, I know.” He rubbed his hands over his face tiredly, “I’ve been up all morning and I’ve searched the entire terrain, but I couldn’t find her.”

“Give me your car keys.”

“What?”

“I said, give me your car keys. I’m going to look for her myself. Go call the cops and inform them of a missing horse.”

It took her a while to convince Matt to stay, though he insisted Jamie tagging along, to which she begrudgingly agreed. However, when Jamie was about to step into the driver’s seat, she told him she’d throw him out of the car while they were driving if he didn’t hand her the keys. Jamie didn’t question her again after that and silently let her be behind the wheel.

The black Cadillac wasn’t exactly meant to cross over the countryside, but she surely wasn’t going to start looking in the city for a horse. Stopping when she came across cyclers, playing children and farmers ploughing their fields, she asked each and every single one of them if they’d seen their stallion, but to no avail.

Her last hope turned out to be her saviour, because the old man at the train station told her of travellers who’d mentioned a beautiful brown beast close to the tracks.

It was where she found Mardy, stuck in a barbwire fence.

“It’s good to come back to find my hotel not having been burnt down,” Alex breathed, setting down his suitcase, “I presume everything was fine?”

“Uh, of course,” Nick grumbled, his eyes turning back to the nonsense he’d been scribbling down to appear busy.

“Alright. I think I’ll clock out for the night then-“ The ringing of the phone interrupted his sentence. Nick’s hand shot out across the desk, but it was already too late.

“The Grand Tranquility Hotel, this is Alex Turner speaking. How may I direct your call?”

…

“Is that so?”

…

“I’m not sure, I’ll ask him. Please hold.”

Alex glanced up at Nick with raised brows and said in an overly interested voice, “Officer James Ford wants to know if our horse has been found. What should I tell him, Nicholas?” But it was the look in his eyes that made the employee aware of how much trouble he was really in.

 She’d managed to scrub off all the grime Mardy had transferred onto her while cleaning her cuts. They weren’t deep, and it relieved her and Matt incredibly that they didn’t have to call the vet in the end. She had shifted back into her comfortable nightwear, and had only just opened up the page of the book she’d left off in when a knock came from her door.

“How was business?” she asked, being greeted with a familiar set of intense brown orbs. He didn’t answer her, instead opting to just invite himself into her room, to which she threw her arms up at. He took a moment to glance out of the window onto the dark yard, before he took a seat at the edge of her bed. He flipped through the pages of the worn book.

“I’ve been gone for a day,” he said, “And my staff has managed to lose my horse. And my guest took the task upon herself to go and find it.” He glanced up at her. She shrugged, taking a seat next to him and folding her legs underneath her. “I couldn’t just leave her out there, all by herself.”

His intense gaze didn’t wander away from her for a moment. “And not only did she save my horse, she made me aware of the fact that an anonymous party has been stealing money from me.”

Her brows raised in surprise. “So, it wasn’t going to Miles?” He shook his head. “Nick called me immediately after you went out to help Matthew and Jamie. When I confronted Miles about it, he said he’d never added any extra taxes to our rent. We’ve informed the authorities about it.” “I’m glad,” she replied, “You’ll have one less financial thing to worry about.”

He nodded, fumbling with something in his pocket, before revealing the item to her. It was some sort of business card, but it felt more personal than that. He placed it in her hand and wrapped his around hers.

“It’s come to my closer attention that I can trust you more than my own staff,” he murmured, “Which is why I want you to have this number. I’m asking you to hold it to yourself, as it’s the only number you can reach me directly through, at all times.”

She looked down at the text on the card. “The Batphone?” she laughed, “You’ve named your personal number ‘The Batphone?” He smirked. “If you ever need me, in whatever situation you find yourself to be in, you can dial this number, and I’ll be there.”

She blinked at him, feeling at a loss for words. “I- I don’t know what to say, mister Turner. Thank you.”

He hummed, the corner of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly, but his eyes holding something undoubtedly more serious. He shifted and leaned over to her, until his hand held her cheek and his warm lips were pressed softly against the other. Her breath hitched in her throat as he moved back. “I’m the only one who has to say thank you. I owe you my deepest gratitude, miss.”

The tingling sensation on her face didn’t stop for long after he’d left.

[happytroopers]

Day 1: Grief

TW: (Reader) death, burglary

“A kriffin’ burglar,” Rex muttered, head in his hands, and a datapad with the police report in his lap. A stray tear slid down his cheek as he clenched his fists, “I told her to keep her doors locked.”

Your smiling face popped into his mind, “Please, nothing ever happens around here. The doorman droid will hardly let you up- much less someone else.”

And yet still, some low lives had just strolled into your apartment, killed you in your sleep, and walked out with your valuables. Rex hadn’t found out until he came back from a mission.

----

He was so tired that afternoon, just ready to lay on your couch with you and nag you to lock your door. He had bickered with the doorman droid, who very reluctantly let him up. As usual, the elevator ride was smooth and dinged when it let him out on your floor.

Rex always considered himself to have good instincts and the moment he stepped off the lift- he knew something was wrong. Reall wrong...

He picked up his pace, rounding the corner while thinking, “I’m just being paranoid, she’s probably fine.”

Rex slid to a stop, his eyes raking over the police tape that was plastered in a large X over your door. His eyebrows furrowed and his heart thumped thickly in his chest, “No, no, no.”

The normally meticulous Captain didn’t spare a second glance to check for witnesses as he ducked under the yellow tape. The apartment was a wreck- they had overturned the kitchen table, the TV was gone, along with your personal holopad that always sat on your coffee table, the microwave was gone, the nice kitchen knives no longer in their spots...

Rex ventured further back to your bedroom- he felt sick to his stomach. Finally, he entered your bedroom. His eyes immediately found the one thing he didn’t want to find- three blast marks, right where you would have been sleeping. He couldn’t help it, he rushed to the bathroom and vomited.

A million thoughts raced through his mind as he fell back into a sitting position. Was she scared? Did she even wake up? Did she feel anything- god I hope she didn’t feel anything. Did she call for me? I wasn’t here, I could have protected her if I was here.

Rex had lost people before- brothers, soldiers, friends- but that was a different kind of hurt. His brothers knew the risk- didn’t have a choice. That was the whole reason he went off and fought these wars, so people like you could be safe.

---- An hour later, the Captain drug himself off the floor and back into your bedroom- ignoring the singed bed for fear it’d make him sick again. 

Solemnly he looked around the house that was usually so warm, vibrant, and loud- lively. Now the whole house seemed cold, dull, and quiet- dead.

Another solemn thought passed through his mind- you had no family on Coruscant, and they wouldn’t pay to ship your belongings. Whatever they didn’t throw out would be donated to homeless shelters. A house of memories, what do you take to remember the love of your life? 

Should he take the bracelet with the charms shaped like Republic ships? Maybe then he’d never forget how the starfighter charm would feel tapping his back when you’d trace patterns on his back while the two of you watched TV together. 

Maybe the printed out and framed photo of the two of you? That was a nice moment to preserve, right? He always loved thinking of the hilariously bad tries at getting a perfect self-timed picture, before finally accidentally getting a candid shot of the two of you laughing with your foreheads pressed together. 

Possibly the painting of your home planet’s natural beauty- the skyline of the capital city, your home- in the background. To remember where you came from and all the soft smiles he loved seeing when you’d talk about your home town. 

Or, maybe the half-empty bottle of your usual perfume- so he’d always remember what it smelled like when he buried his face in your neck when he’d get home from a particularly bad mission. 

What one item would possibly make up for a life cut short. What material possession could remind him of the sound of your laughter when he’d long forgotten, how your sheets smelled because he’d never sleep on them again, how your lips tasted when you’d give him drunken kisses after a rare night out, how perfect you looked in your pajama’s looking at the neon lights outside your window, how perfectly your hand fit in his... There were too many memories, how could he choose just one. 

He stayed in your apartment for hours, mulling through old memories that had- meals shared in your kitchen, all the movies you insisted he HAD to see, cuddling in your bed when the heat was out (which was often in the shoddy building)... There wouldn’t be any more of that. Ever. 

It hurt so bad Rex couldn’t breathe, but like a droid, he carried through his actions. He knew he couldn’t linger much longer, detective- someone would eventually come along and wonder what a clone was doing in a residential area without a tenant. You were always worried about him getting in trouble for seeing you.  

So he made finally made a decision- kind of, off your bathroom counter he took the bottle of perfume and the charm bracelet out of the jewelry box- amazed the crooks hadn’t taken it. Then he went to the nightstand and picked up the picture frame, his thumb swiped over your smiling face before popping the photo out of the frame. Finally, he opened the drawer of the nightstand, in it was a copy of your favorite book. It was worn, the hardcover’s corners were even fraying. Rex had always teased you, telling you just to read it on your holopad- but you always preferred a hardcopy of this book. 

Movements slow, he tucked the photo and the bracelet in the book like a bookmark.  It’s not enough, but it’ll have to do. 

______

He called in a favor with the Coruscant guard so he could have access to the files, as if reading the gory details would make him feel better. It didn’t. 

His men frequently checked on him- a few of them knew of the Captain’s illegal love. They were worried about him, he seemed resigned and shut down. And he was most of the time. 

Memories of you felt like barbwire tightening around his heart. If he thought about you, allowed himself to process, he’d breakdown- so he only ever did so in the safety and security of his private quarters. 

Even the Jedi could feel something wrong, but out of respect didn’t say a thing. Rex appreciated it, there wasn’t anything any of them- Jedi or soldier alike-could say to ease his grief. 

___

A/N NOW THAT’S WHAT I CALL  B A D  WRITING

[mermaidswrite]

Title: General Beelzebub

Promp: Dirty Angel

Summary:

Beelzebub recommended mud run as a way of team building for the angels. The demons went to watch and basically adopted Aziraphale as their new agent in training.

----

Meeting with the opposition is always a dreadful task but they must always endure. Dagon has everything set up and cleared so it shouldn't have been a long meeting, however with how messy and disorganized Heaven is despite their advanced technologies, the meeting had extended to dinner time when they started at lunch.

"So what exactly is it you do with your resources?" Beelzebub asked after finishing off another round of cake while Uriel tries to find the matching table for cross data analysis. "Crowley gave us three computers ten years ago which he updates every six months and we are still keeping better files than you?" Then they take a slug of their martini.

"I meant all disrespect, that says a lot given that we print it on greasy papers." Dagon added.

"Would you fucking shut up!" Uriel snaps but an immediate regret appearing on her face.

"My Lord, this is a waste of time." Dagon turns to Beelzebub who just ordered their third glass of chocolate milkshake.

"Fine. All of you may go back down. Leave all the papers here." Beelzebub sighs. The angels look like they're spread all over the place, but with the failed apocalypse, hell is too, they just happen to be more efficient.

As soon as everyone is back to hell Beelzebub snaps the paperwork on her own office desk, including the heavenly ones. "Get up, we're going somewhere." They ordered the four bureaucrats who thankfully did without bitching out. "All of you are familiar with running, right?" They ask making a lollipop appear on their hands. The angels nodded, confusion now painted on their faces. "Good. Change into your running clothes then." The archangels did in a snap and their choice making Beelzebub snort. "Should've gone with darker ones."

As soon as everyone is on their sports clothing, Beelzebub snaps them to California where they had their recent team building. A rather successful one. "Listen up, pea brains!" The Lord of Hell begins and everyone automatically lined up in position. "The objective of the game is simple. There are five stations and each station you have to complete an obstacle. The first one to finish the race wins!"

"Question," Michael raised her hand which is met by an impatient look from Beelzebub.

"I didn't you could ask any question, but go ahead. Let's hear it." The Prince of Hell answers.

"Is there any track that is less muddy?"

"No. Anymore senseless questions?"

"What's the prize?" Gabriel asked, pouting like an overgrown child.

Beelzebub leaned dangerously close to him before pulling his torso down from the neck to have him face to face with them before whispering, "Well, Gabe. You just gotta win to find out, don't you?" To which the archangel dumbly nods.

"Well I hope the prize depends on the winner." Sandalphon whispers to the other two archangels.

Meanwhile in Hell…

“Crowley, what exactly are we doing here?” Aziraphale asks as he follows the redhead through one of the corridors of hell.

“Lord Beelzebub posted this,” Crowley hands his phone to the angel. “Apparently, your previous boss and the gang pissed them off, so they’re making the wank wings run in the mud.”

“Well that’s exciting.” Aziraphale says, trying to contain his glee but failing miserably. “We should have a betting pool.” The angel suggested.

Crowley hums in response and immediately asked the demons in the watching room who would like to participate. Everyone wanted to and Aziraphale is even surprised when he saw the other princes of hell and even Satan himself in the room. The high ranking demons regarded him with a mere nod save for Lord Asmodeus who actually sat on his lap, handing him a glass of wine.

Everyone is watching Beelzebub give them instructions on how to play the game when Hastur called out to Aziraphale from the other side of the room.

“Aziraphale! Can you give us more to work with here?” Hastur says pointing at the flashing number at one of the screens corresponding to an archangel.

“Well, that would jeopardize my bet, wouldn’t it?” Aziraphale answered which earned a rather amused laughed from Satan.

“Someone give that guy a promotion!” Satan gleefully pointed at Aziraphale.

“My Lord, he doesn’t even go here.” Leviathan answers.

“Then make him a member then.” Satan answers, still smiling amusedly.

“I didn’t know hell has a membership.” Aziraphale turned to Crowley, amused at the apparent displeasure of the other princes of hell. Save for Asmodeus who winked at him after Satan’s remark on his position.

Crowley chuckles and wraps his arm around Aziraphale while keeping a challenging eye on Asmodeus. Ever since the rise of selfie through Crowley’s doing─one of the things he actually did, Lord Asmodeus had been on him to the point of almost crying a war on Beelzebub which was hilarious and rather disturbing having received a commendation just because he pissed off another prince.

Mud Run Track, California…

“No miracles, no heavenly interventions. I want a human energy based race.” The Lord of Hell reminded, flashing the red of their eyes to get the message across, and suddenly they all know why they’re a well respected leader in Hell. “Angels on three!” Beelzebub yelled using the megaphone they acquired after the third senseless question, just to yell on the archangels’ faces.

“Three!” They miracle themselves to a viewing deck for one above the starting line.

“Two!” One of their thrones and a few screen showing the track appeared on the podium with them.

“One!” And the angels started to run.

Station 1: Footloose

The angels are facing the one thing that they can’t do even with miracles.

“Dance, angels, dance!” They heard Beelzebub and Gabriel took the first stem into the laid tire on the mud and immediately regretted as he started sinking. The archangel moved as fast as he can to get to the other side and he was immediately followed by Michael, then Uriel. Sandalphon refuses to go through the tires which Beelzebub did not tolerate and they made it known by starting a hellfire that proved to be a good motivation for the said archangel to go through the obstacle.

The next thing on the obstacle is the four horizontal beams which they assume they have to walk through. Fearing another motivation from Beelzebub, the four archangels started mounting the beam.

Michael is the first one to successfully mount but slipped on her third step making her land on the puddle of mud face first. Still, with the fear of the wrathful demon, she got up to try again.

The next to successfully mount is Uriel who learned that it is better to walk slow and steady rather than hurry. After all, they can’t miracle themselves clean if they get messy. Much like Michael now. Gabriel, unbelievable even to Beelzebub got through the beam without slipping.

Station 2: Swing, drop, and roll

“Oh come on!!” Gabriel grumbles upon seeing the course and faced Beelzebub with an are-you-kidding-me look.

“Swing archangel fucking Gabriel.” Beelzebub says with an amused tone through the megaphone, their viewing deck moved closer to the next obstacle.

Meanwhile in Hell…

On one of the TV screens a demon appeared looking like a sports anchor correspondent with Gabriel’s picture with his famous fake smile. “In the latest update, Archangel Gabriel currently on the lead, but maybe not soon with Archangel Uriel currently leading on the second obstacle.”

“Hey, Angel! Soneillon, nice to meet you” A demon flops himself down next to Aziraphale on the couch.

“Hello,” The only angel in hell greets. “Aziraphale, nice to meet you too.” Aziraphale offers his hand for a handshake but the demon took it and moved the hand to kiss the back of it.

“Who did you bet on?” Soneillon asked, handing Aziraphale a plate of good looking crepes. “I hope you’d like these, I had a legion buy these from Paris.”

“Fuck off, Soneillon.” Crowley warns, taking his sunglasses to look directly at the other demon.

“Possessive little shit.” Soneillon remarks with an amused smile, then leaves with Aziraphale still holding the plate of crepes.

As soon as the demon left, Aziraphale looked at Crowley, smiling softly as he always does when he knows that Crowley is going out of his way for him. “Thank you, my dear.” Aziraphale offers him one of the crepes which Crowley softly declines and just kisses the angel on his temple, eyeing any other demons around them.

Satan’s melodic laugh fills in the room as the camera pans out to Gabriel taking his shirt off entirely, obvious anger at Michael for throwing mud at him evident on his face.

“That is a lot of vain for an angel.” Mammon commented, probably smelling that off Gabriel from thousands of miles after they saw the archangel smirk when he saw the hunger on Beelzebub’s eyes upon seeing his naked, sweat and dirt covered torso.

“Well, Gabriel had always been proud of his corporation.” Aziraphale comments and grimace as Gabriel drops on the muddy and probably rocky ground to get under the bard wires to catch up with Michael. “He calls it a temple.”

“Well, no wonder Ba’al fancies him.” Satan comments which surprises the other demons arounds. “Don’t they, Crowley?”

“Listen, My King. No offense but I am more afraid of Lord Beelzebub, I’d rather not say anything,” Crowley looks at Satan smiling mischievously, “especially with a bastard of an archangel on their lap.”

“Fuck this, Sandalphon. I’m gonna lose my money!” Belphegor groaned when the camera showed the said archangel getting caught on a barbwire while the other three are now rolling down a wooden ramp to a puddle on Beelzebub’s command. “You stole it from the American government. Shut up!” Leviathan answered.

“Alright, pea brains! Ten minutes break then we continue.” Beelzebub announced through the megaphone. As soon as they’re gone and back in hell, all the archangels dropped dead on the wooden platform on the side of the track, still muddy and sweaty.

Beelzebub appeared by the snack table and a legion immediately started putting sweets on a plate for them. As soon as the plate is filled, the prince takes a sit on their throne just on Satan’s right side with the legion on his knees, holding the plate towards Beelzebub.

“Have you ordered my baby brother on his knees like that, Ba’al?” Satan leaned down near them as they are leaning back, small body on a big throne.

“I don’t have to order him,” The prince answers and they feel the other princes’ attention on them now. “He already knows his place when he’s with me.” Beelzebub smiles wickedly, flashing their teeth, fangs peeking out. Satan felt the satisfaction coursing through the prince upon seeing his reaction and he sat back on his own throne.

“Well, ten minutes is up.” Beelzebub announced and snap themselves back to the mud run track.

Mud Run Track, California…

Station 3: The Great Wall

“Alright, little birdies listen up!” And so the archangels lined up like soldiers again. “Uriel is on the lead, followed by Gabriel,” The prince eyed him. “Then Michael and lastly, Sandalphon.” Beelzebub looks at the last angel before saying, “Belphegor sends his regards.” Four words that made the angel swallow hard. “Three walls, climb using the stones on the first one then jump down, I’ll allow a quick miracle on that one. Just one. Next, the wall with the ropes, and lastly leap wall.”

With a blow of their whistle, Beelzebub watches the angels leap and drop with Gabriel on the lead and surprisingly, Sandalphon on his tail. Uriel slipped after jumping down from the first wall that got the other three angels laughing. Pissed off and irritated, Uriel threw a mud ball at Michael, Gabriel, and lastly Sandlphon.

“That was uncalled for!” Michael protested.

“Your face is uncalled for!” Uriel managed to answer as she dodged another hit from Sandalphon.

Meanwhile, Beelzebub is watching Gabriel sneakily continue on with the course, using his one miracle ticket to cloak his actions so the other three won’t notice him. This earned a rather amused and genuine joy from the prince of hell, righteous and holy messenger of God, Archangel fucking Gabriel being competitive enough to sneak around his buddies.

Meanwhile in Hell…

Aziraphale is watching the current situation with a satisfied smile as Gabriel currently takes the lead after having a boost from the situation at the third course. “Come on, Gabriel.” He whispers but it was loud enough for Crowley to hear it.

“So you bet on him.” The demon asked, genuinely surprise though he also did.

“Of course I did,” Aziraphale stated as a matter of factly. “Except for The Almighty, there are only three things Gabriel loves the most; fashion, himself, and Lord Beelzebub.” He says, taking a sip of the wine Satan had handed him, well had someone deliver it to him. “Two of the things on the list is there.” He continues after, pointing on the screen showing Gabriel’s victory.

All the demons watching groaned save for Satan himself who actually cheered along the lines of “YES! I TAUGHT THAT FUCKER WELL!”

Crowley groans himself after losing and looks at the smug face of Aziraphale. “Bastard.” He says with a soft smile on his face. “YOU AND ME, ANGEL!” Crowley hears Satan immediately pulls Aziraphale closer which made the devil chuckle and takes Aziraphale from Crowley to engage the angel in a carefree waltz which actually made Aziraphale laugh melodiously. “There you go, your grace.” Satan hands the angel's share and kisses the back of his hand with a bow before leaving the room.

“I would have thought he’d bet for Michael.” Crowley remarks and kisses Aziraphale square on the lips. “Let’s go home, angel.”

California…

“Well, well, well,” Beelzebub says, entering the shower cubicle with Gabriel currently lathered up. “Never would have thought you’d win.” The prince says running their hands on the angel’s torso.

“All for you, Ba’al.” Gabriel answers.

“You made Satan and the Principality Aziraphale very rich today.” Beelzebub says, still massaging him and chuckled after seeing a confused expression from the archangel. “Clean up well and I’ll give you your prize.” With that, the prince of hell left, going back to their fancy hotel to wait for the archangel.

[uas-fics]

Chapter 2 Of ‘The Pandering Country Western Star’

Chapter 1 - Epilogue 

---

Kiwi snuggled down in Tweek's hair as Tweek tapped his finger on the table top. Craig's livestream would start any minute. Would Craig use the script Tweek edited for him? No, he probably scrapped it. It was too much. It didn't make his fans feel good about Craig keeping his personal life a secret from them.

The more Tweek thought about the whole situation, the angrier he got about it. Coming out is hard and terrifying. No one should be pushed to come out to the world like this — especially not at the hands of a bitter ex. Craig was right to break up with him! He dodged a bullet, as far as Tweek could tell.

Tweek's phone dinged and he picked it up, keeping one eye on the laptop in front of him. 

The text message was from Craig. 

"I'm going to start my livestream soon. Wish me luck? :)“

"Luck ;)" Tweek typed and chewed his lip. 

This was too risky to send. He didn't even know how long ago Craig broke up with his ex. Was it a month? A year? Two weeks? Was he pushing too fast? 

Besides, Craig probably didn't even see Tweek like that. He was a famous country star after all. There were men much more like him out there he could pursue. Men who were famous and used to Craig’s lifestyle.

With a sigh, Tweek went to delete the wink and replace it with a star or a smile, (he hadn't decided which one) when Kiwi took hold of a lock of Tweek's hair and pulled. Tweek yelped, his thumb going right down on the send button.

His heart froze in his chest as he stared down at his mistake. A scream rose up from his throat but died down the moment the livestream started a few seconds later.

Craig smiled at the camera, waving. He held up the black and white guinea pig from his wallet photo and moved his paw to wave as well.

"Howdy," He greeted, and Tweek realized just how much of an accent Craig put on for his fans. "There's quite a crowd here, huh, Astro? I think this is my biggest livestream yet."

Astro didn't look all that impressed. Craig set him down in his lap.

"I'm guessin' you're all here because I said I've got some really big news. I can tell from the chat, you all seem to think it's music related." Craig's smile strained. "It ain't."

Craig took a deep breath, scooting a little farther back. Best Tweek could tell the livestream took place in Craig's living room, which was nothing but Western aesthetic: decorations made with wood, barbwire, and rope covered the wall behind him along with a rustic painting of a pasture with some tiny black, white, and red dots (probably cows or horses, Tweek realized) on it.

"This isn't how I wanted to do this." Craig sighed. "I had other ideas. Plans much classier than this, when I was in a much happier place in my life, but circumstances changed. I want y'all to hear this from my mouth and not the front page of a magazine."

Craig shook once. His face twisted like he was going to vomit, but he swallowed any bile back down.

"I am gay," Craig stated simply, pulling Astro so he pressed against his stomach. "I have always been gay. Since I was still in my mama. That's just how it works. That's how God made it work."

Tweek tensed. Around this part was when he started to edit out the pandering. If Craig went on about God and how He has a purpose for him, then he threw out all Tweek did and went back to the first draft.

Craig's eyes flicked up, looking beyond the camera, then back. "This has been a hard decision for me and a shock for many of you, I'm sure. Or maybe it’s not. Maybe you could all tell and never bothered to let me in on the secret."

Tweek let out a breath he did not remember taking. He slumped forward so abruptly that Kiwi fell from his hair. Kiwi landed, somewhat gracefully, if a little wobbly, on the table.

"Sorry!" Tweek reached out to comfort Kiwi, but he turned and flew up to his perch in his cage.

Craig continued, "Like I said, this isn't how I wanted this to happen. I’d rather had y'all meet my husband after we got engaged or married, but that ain't gonna happen now, I guess."

Pain flashed across his face for a fraction of a second. "I'm sure y'all find out why when Country Western Living comes out since that's where my ex outs me. I think publishing it is downright dirty and shows a lack of journalistic integrity, but I'm not a rich ol' magazine editor." He shrugged. "What do I know — besides you don’t tell other folks secrets for money?"

Tweek couldn't help but smile. Craig was going to throw that magazine right under the bus for this, wasn't he?

"I can say, I spent years hiding myself from people, both family and friends, and from the world itself. It was hard, and I felt like a liar. I heard conversations about folks like me that made my stomach churn. Conversations that I'm sure wouldn't happen if the people in the room knew I was like the people they were talking about."

He cleared his throat. "Even if it's not a perfect coming out story, I think I'll be much happier now, and I know I can make music truer to my life and with more passion than ever before. I want this to be a good thing for all of us."

Astro pipped and began to roll out of Craig's lap. Craig smiled down at him then set him on the floor.

"Don't worry about Astro. I'm still keeping an eye on him. He's safe," Craig reassured. He settled himself back in his seat before continuing, "Now, I know some of you don't ‘agree' with people being gay, and, well, I can't change your mind, but if you don't, it isn't my problem."

Craig fixed the camera with a hard look, his accent falling for the last sentence.

That wasn't part of the first draft or the edited one. Craig was supposed to offer to answer questions from the livestream after he mentioned how coming out would make his life better.

Tweek leaned so close his nose nearly touched the laptop screen. 

He was proud for Craig. 

Even as he answered, somewhat invasive, questions about his sexuality, he seemed relaxed, as if a heavy weight hanging over him just dropped to the ground and missed him.

Well that's what it was, wasn't it? No more hiding. No more lies and fake girlfriend stories. No more feeling like a gay fly on the wall when people bash the community.

"Ok, um, Little.Shop.Of.Yaoi280, I don't know what a ‘uke' or a sea...seem...see-mee? Whatever are and I don't think I want to," Craig was saying as he read through the comments. "Yes, KittyKatLover, I have read the Old Testament. I also read all the verses that say God loves me and made me how I am. That's all I want to say about that."

Tweek finally fell back in his chair, running his hands through his hair, with a goofy smile on his face. Craig handled those kinds of questions a little better than Tweek did the first few times he got then online. Nowadays he deleted invasive or backhanded comments on sight. He used to argue, sometimes with sources, sometimes without, and it would keep him up at night with worry.

He'd have to advise Craig to copy his current method and not his old one.

"Ok, I think Astro wants to go nap with his brother and sister, so one more question," Craig muttered, more to himself than the stream. "Let's see...I like this one. PikachuKetchumAll151 asks me if I could have come out like I wanted with a husband at my side, what would I have said."

He hummed a moment. "I would have announced the man with me is the love of my life and I am blessed to introduce you all to him, but that isn't going to happen any time soon, unless," Craig smirked, "I get very lucky with dates in the near future." He winked.

Tweek fell out of his chair and to the floor, eyes wide. No. Craig didn't. He didn't just ask him on a date on a livestream like that, did he?

"Oh, jeez!" Tweek's mouth gaping open like a freshly caught trout as Craig finished up.

The screen was dark for only a few seconds before Tweek's phone began to ring. Shaking, Tweek answered it without looking at the number.

"Tweek?" Craig asked. His voice was nothing but excitement. "It's over. Did you watch it? All of it?"

"Did you ask me out on a livestream?"

"Hmmmm, no," Craig replied, almost coyly, and Tweek remembered how to breathe properly. "I wanted to ask if you'd like to hang out, actually. I'm not ready to date anyone else right now, but making friends who are also gay and have been out longer than me? I would like that."

Tweek forced his voice to stay steady as he replied, "Yeah, I'd like that too."

---

Red tapped her nails against the lacquered wood of her desk. Her stomach twisted with disgust. She might just vomit over all the negativity surrounding Craig.

She shook her head. No, it's a very vocal few. Most of the reaction towards Craig coming out as gay had been positive. He had plenty of congratulations and even some fanart for him with the Pride flag. Some celebrities even tweeted they were proud of him.

"About time. You'll be happier now, Craig! #LoveisLove" The frontman of Moop, Stan Marsh, tweeted. His partner, Red's old friend, Wendyl, as well as the rest of Moop, also sent Craig their support. Wendyl even went as far as to argue on Craig's behalf in the comments. 

Not that Red planned on showing that to Craig. She couldn't risk him getting involved in an online shouting match and ruining his aloof country boy persona.

Her eyes drifted over the copy of the magazine on her desk. Craig and Thomas were on the cover, walking out in a park and holding hands. Craig’s focus was solely on Thomas and not the beautiful scenery. They must have assumed deep in an isolated park would be a safe place for a secret date. Clearly, they were wrong. 

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Red skimmed the article. The picture Thomas claimed they would publish, one of him and Craig kissing, was nowhere to be found. Red didn’t believe Thomas lied about the photo. When he called, he was stammering nervously and the stress made his tic act up so badly he had to keep starting his sentence over and apologizing.

From Red’s best guess, the photo was probably on private property and the magazine couldn’t legally publish it, but this could use it against Thomas anyway. Not that it mattered in the end. Thomas already admitted he and Craig were dating in the article. 

Red closed the magazine then tossed it aside. Even if Thomas had been tricked into talking, he still was the reason Craig had been strong armed into coming out before he was comfortable, and that pissed Red off.

Grumbling to herself, she turned back to scrolling through the comments on Craig’s latest post, a picture of Petunia in sunglasses and a tiny cowboy hat. It never ceased to amaze her how much he dotes on his pets and treats them like his own children.

Unfortunately, even on a post of a rodent dressed as a cowgirl, people were making hateful comments and asking invasive questions.

Kevin opened the door, steaming bowls in his hand.

"I have leftover chili or microwave ramen." He held up the bowls in turn. "Which do you want?"

Red didn't look up from her computer. "Ramen."

Chili was too heavy and spicy for her stomach to handle. Kevin watered down the romen every time, so she didn't have to worry about making herself sicker.

He slipped the bowl next to her then looked over her shoulder with a frown.

"You need to take a break from those," He told her before spooning chili into his mouth.

"I want to, but I can't." She slurped up noodles. "I'm going to report every bashing comment that might break Twitter's terms of service so Craig doesn't have to see it." Twitter probably wouldn't do anything, even if the comment did break their TOS, but it made her feel better anyway, since Craig decided deleting comments would only make things worse.

Kevin rubbed between her shoulder blades. His hand was warm from the bowls, relieving some of the tension.

"Craig's a big boy, Red. He can handle some hate comments. He's probably been preparing for it for most of his adult life." Kevin set his bowl down to walk behind her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders then rested his chin on her head. Given how tall she was, when she sat was about the only time Kevin could do this.

"I know, but..." A noise of uncertainty left her throat.

He kissed the top of her head. "It'll be alright. Someone else will do something worse soon and everyone will forget about Craig being gay."

Red set a hand over one of Kevin's, smiling softly. He was such a good husband, so caring and sweet and understanding. She hoped Craig would find someone like that for himself one day.

"Hey, do you know who the guy Craig's been texting nonstop is? Some gay internet celeb, right? The one who helped him with the script?" Red asked abruptly.

"Tweek Tweak, I think is his name," Kevin replied. "I checked out his channel: he's got an alright voice and seems like a good guy. Craig really likes him. We should take bets if this is another case of Tuckers falling in love instantly."

Red rolled her eyes at the joke.

“Good thing I’m a Stoley now, huh? Or you would be worried."

Kevin laughed. “Good thing for both of us!”

Red hummed to herself a moment before pushing back her chair, nearly sending Kevin to the floor. She jumped to her feet and spun around.

"I'm done with this for tonight," Red announced, taking Kevin's hand. "You're right anyway. Craig is a big boy." She kissed his cheek. "So, com'on, let's go watch ‘Battlestar Galactica’."

---

The house was much less "Cozy Ranch, Sweet Tea with Lemon on the Table Next to a Fresh  Rhubarb Pie" Charm than Tweek expected, Craig could tell just by the confused expression on his face as he looked around the living room. After the livestream, Craig put most of the western decoration back in the attic where it usually stated. If he had to stare at a ‘Live, Laugh, Ride Horses’ on the wall all the time, he’d vomit. Every time he had tried to ride a horse before, it either nearly threw him off or tried to eat his fingers. He could live and laugh  just find without them

"Something wrong?"

"No. It's just...big. Wow. Way bigger than my apartment." Tweek spun around. "If I let Kiwi loose here, I'd never see him again."

"It's not that big," Craig defended, deciding not to mention that was the main reason he didn't like his own pets wandering outside their pen without him around. Once he and Stan and Kevin spent the better half of a day searching for Stripe when he escaped from the pen

"I think my parents' coffee shop could fit in here," Tweek muttered, bending down to get a closer look at a stone carving Craig got from a trip to Peru.

"You're parents own a coffee shop?" Craig put his hands in his pockets. "So you're from a business family?"

"It is why I have my degree in business management." Tweek reached his hand to touch the nose of the carving but flinched back. "Did you ever go to college? I mean, I think Stan said he met you in college, didn't he?"

Craig picked up the carving, making Tweek stumble back a few steps.

"I left to become a music star," He twisted the carving over, brushing his fingers along the maker's mark at the bottom, "but I was learning about the physics and chemistry required in the fuel propulsion of jets and rockets."

Tweek blinked at him. "So you left college to be a rocket scientist to sing about drinking beer and trucks."

"You know," Craig set the carving back on the table, "my parents had the same reaction."

"You could have gotten us to Mars." Tweek straightened up. "But, you know, I admire that you took the chance and left that path to follow your dream." He grinned. "Really. It's admirable. My parents would have flipped out if I dropped everything to tour." 

He paused then quickly added, "Not that I want to. I like being able to record from my house. Little stage performances are enough for me."

Craig laughed. "No, I understand. It's pretty heart pounding to have a million eyes on you at once."

Tweek shuddered at the thought.

"Hey, come on, my kids are excited to meet you." Craig put his hands on his shoulders and steered Tweek out of the living room and down the hall.

"I've been telling them only good things these past weeks," Craig continued. "How talented you are and what nice handwriting you have." He paused at a door. "I let Petunia sniff your revision, and she loved it so much she nibbled on the paper."

Tweek snorted as Craig opened the door.

The pen took up a sizeable corner of the room and was surrounded by a knee height fence. Inside were several beds and many toys and hidey holes for his pets. Craig noticed one of the sipper bottles was getting low and made a note to refill it, along with their food dish which somebody (Probably Stripe) knocked over into the bedding again.

“Wow.” Tweek’s mouth gaped. “I thought guinea pigs were kept in cages like hamsters, not something like this.”

“I built it myself,” Craig proclaimed, “though, I went a little overboard in size. Three pigs don’t need this much room.” 

His plan was to let Petunia have a litter and have himself an army of guinea pigs, but once recording and touring started up, Craig found it was hard enough providing enough care and affection for the ones he had, so he took all three to the vet to be neutered. According to the vet, they  would live happier and healthier lives that way anyway.

One of the guinea pigs shuffled around in the hammock and poked a nose out. Petunia looked around before spotting Craig. She gave a squeak and scrambled out to hurried over, probably expecting treats. Her noisy journey from the hammock made the other two peek out from sleeping under a fake log.

Craig stooped down and picked up Petunia. He held her out for Tweek to hold.

"She doesn't bite," Craig mentioned when Tweek hesitated. "Promise."

Tweek took her and held her carefully to his chest. Stroking her long, brown fur, Tweek leaned over the small fencing to look at the others.

"She's soft and those two are really cute," he complimented with a nod to Astro and Stripe the Sixth.

"Thank you. I'm proud of my boys," He reached over and scratched Petunia between the ears, "and my baby girl."

Petunia moved her head against his palm with a happy noise.

Astro grew jealous at the attention Petunia was getting and began to get rowdy in the pen to steal some of it for himself. With a smile, Craig stepped into the pen and sat down. Instantly, Astro was in his lap with Stripe the Sixth settling down next to his leg.

Tweek wavered a moment before following after Craig and taking a seat in the pen.

He opened his mouth when his body went stiff.

"Ack!" He pulled his hand to his chest. "She licked me!"

A grin spread across Craig's face.

"That means she likes you." He scooted closer so they sat side by side, much to Stripe’s annoyance as he had just got comfortable.

"Like a dog?" Tweek stared down at Petunia in awe. Clearly, Tweek hadn’t had more interactions with rodents than average house mice.

"Yes, they are very affectionate critters." He pressed his leg against Tweek's, resting his palm on Tweek’s knee. Tweek tensed, but relaxed a moment later and didn't move away.

"Oh? They are? Well, you know, this," Tweek whistled softly, "is what birds do when they like you. They talk around you and sing."

"I didn't know that." Craig leaned a little closer. Their shoulders were touching now.

"Yeah. They sing and tweet all day if they're happy and safe."

Craig hummed a wordless tune, raising his finger to brush a lock of Tweek's hair back. Before his hand left, Tweek set his on top of it to keep it against his cheek.

"Do you want to know what guinea pigs do when they like someone?" Craig tilted his face towards him.

Tweek mimicked the action, twisting his body a little and disturbing Petunia. She made a whining squeak, alerting Tweek that his action displeased her, though he paid her little mind.

"What else?" He asked as his fingers gently squeezed Craig's hand.

"Something a little like..."

The gap between them grew steadily smaller and smaller until Craig pressed his lips against his.

"This." He pulled back, tapped the ends of their noses together, then pressed his luck to kiss Tweek again.

After a few blissful moments, the two parted completely.

This time when Petunia was disturbed she crawled out of Tweek's lap to trot to Craig's. She climbed over his crossed legs and snuggled down next to Astro.

"W... w... " Tweek stammered.

For a fleeting moment, Craig's chest gripped with worry that Tweek might be trying to say "Why did you do that?!" or "What made you think I wanted that?"

"’Wicked’..." Tweek finally breathed.

A snorting laugh escaped through Craig's nose. "I guess it was. Maybe even ‘radical’ or ‘tubular’?" He teased.

"No, I mean," Tweek chuckled, "'Wicked' like the musical. Jimmy gave me tickets to a performance he's helping with next month. Would you like to come? Like as a date?"

If he could grin any wider, his face would have split right down the middle.

"I'd like that, but you know what I'd like even more?"

Tweek's face dusted pink but he smiled too.

"What?"

"You let me take you out for a date tonight since I don't want to wait a month." Craig moved Stripe to his lap as well. The two already there made irritated squeaks but allowed their sibling to snuggle down between them.

Tweek nodded, pushing his hair back from his face.

"As long as there's no mechanical bull wherever you take me." He laughed. "My friend, Jason, rode one once and broke his arm when he fell off."

Craig's expression twisted into disgust before he could stop himself. Tweek furrowed his brow, nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"Tweek, I have a confession:" he took a breath, "I hate country music."

Tweek stared at him before bursting out into laughter.

"Oh, right, uh-huh." He elbowed him in the side. "That's a good one. If you want to go someplace with a bull, that's fine. Just don't expect me to ride it."

"I'm serious," Craig deadpanned. He leaned to allow his head to fall back. "I guess ‘hate’ is a strong word. I used to like it. I was raised on the stuff, after all."

Tweek lifted himself on his hands to turn to fully face him. His prompting look encouraged Craig to continue.

"When you said you thought it was admirable that I left school to pursue my passion, well, it was actually the opposite. Rocket science is my passion. Music is a job."

"What?" Tweek shook his head. "That doesn't make sense. That's not how it works."

"That's how it ended up." Craig shut his eyes. "Stan needed help taking all his Moop stuff to a venue, so I offered my car. The owner's daughter overheard me singing to myself and said she'd pay me to sing for her."

"Did you?"

"Thirty dollars for singing a cheesy country love song to a girl? Hell yeah, I did." Craig snickered at the memory. "After that, she told me she could get me on stage for a bit if I wanted. I didn't want a glamorous life of a music star, but I was a broke college student and performing there got me a free dinner and whatever tips I made."

He opened his eyes with a frown. "Then it all kind of snowballed from there. I got asked to come to sing there more and more and soon other places were asking for me, and Red offered to be my manager and before I knew it," he fell back, startling the guinea pigs, "I was famous."

Tweek stared at him, big blue eyes searching his face before he took a breath. "Why would you keep doing something that makes you unhappy?"

Craig shrugged. "Money. I sing what people want to hear from me and, until recently, pretended to be what they wanted completely. Just a good old Southern boy who sings songs that pander to other good old Southern boys."

"So, are all your songs just pandering? That can't be all you ever wrote." Tweek chewed his lip. His brow furrowed. Craig could only assume he was thinking about all the songs of Craig's he knew to check himself.

Craig pushed himself up onto his forearms. "I didn't write any of my songs, actually. When I was first starting, Red introduced me to a lyricist. He'd make the lyrics. I'd help with the instrumentals if he needed it."

"That...really?" Tweek moved to sit on his knees.

"Yeah, his name is Thomas." A pang hit his stomach, but he took a breath and went on, "Thomas actually did live a country life, a little. More to draw from than I have. He has Tourettes, and his mom sent him to a ranch camp for kids like him every summer from when he was eight to eighteen."

"Wow, so you’re really a fake," Tweek replied, unamused.

“I don’t auto tune myself or lip sing during concerts. Besides, I’m not the only one. An old member of Moop, Eric Cartman? He left to make a Christain Rock band called Faith+1. Fucker’s as far from a holy Christain man as you can get.” Craig snorted. “He’s even more in it for the money than I am. At least I care about my fans a little. That man would push them into the fires of Hell himself if he was offered a dime for it.”

“But you’re still faking! I mean,” Tweek ran a hand through his hair, “all of your songs can’t be pandering party songs, can they?”

"I do have one song that wasn't just a cash grab."

"Oh, yeah? Which one?"

"‘Hazel Eyes.'"

Tweek’s face twisted in thought as he tried to recall the song. Craig couldn't blame him if he didn't know it. ‘Hazel Eyes' barely broke the top forty for a week then faded into song obscurity. It was still his favorite, though for bittersweet reasons now.

Craig hummed the first two bars at the start of the chorus before he sang, "Black hair; Hazel eyes, looking at me with love long disguised. Hold my hand where dad and mom can't see. Let me with you and you with me. Please never look away from the future of we, my lovely hazel eyes."

Realization crossed Tweek's face.

"I remember that song. I really liked it, but didn't know the title."

Craig bobbed his head. "Thomas wrote that for me."

"Didn't he write everything for you?"

"No, I mean for me. Thomas...he was my boyfriend. I'm the ‘Hazel Eyes' the song talks about." Craig winced, realizing that bringing up a love song his ex wrote him with the man he just kissed was not his best plan.

"Oh..." Tweek chewed his lip "Wasn't Thomas the ex who..."

"Yeah, that Thomas," Craig confirmed. "I think that's another reason I don't like country much anymore. Everything I sing is by him. It's just salt in the wound."

A hand fell on his shoulder, so Craig lowered his gaze from the ceiling. Tweek smiled softly at him.

"Do you want to write a song with me? I'm not the best. I didn't go to college for it or anything, but maybe together we could make something good."

"So, what I told you isn't a deal breaker?" Craig asked.

Tweek shrugged. "No, I guess not. Maybe I can help you break into other genres, or if you want to leave professional music altogether and be a rocket scientist, I can help with that, too, if you want. I find people are much happier when they can be themselves and follow their passions."

Craig stared at him before chuckling. Tweek was such an amazing person.

---

The night wind was pleasant as Craig and Tweek walked side by side down the street. Craig readjusted his coat. For once, he didn't look like something a western store threw up on: A blue zip-up jacket over an old Moop shirt, black skinny jeans, and a chullo hat with a geometric pattern and yellow tassels.

Tweek mocked the skinny jeans when he first noticed them until Craig pointed out that's what he had on as well. At that point, Tweek blushingly hurried them into the theater to find their seats.

Craig raved excitedly about the play they'd watched. Tweek was so pleased that Craig liked it. He'd suggested it on a whim. It was the first idea his brain could provide him with that wasn't ‘kiss him again, you fool!' He hadn't expected Craig to actually agree, but he hadn't expected Craig to confess he’d grown disenchanted with singing country music, either.

"Alright, so were Elphaba and Glinda low key in love or something? Or am I just reading that subtext now that I'm allowing myself to?" Craig wanted to know, lightly swinging their combined hands while they passed under a streetlamp.

Tweek laughed. "I've never read the book, but in the musical, it's platonic, I think."

"You've never read the Wizard of Oz?" Craig stopped and fixed Tweek with a startled expression.

"What? Of course, I have!" Tweek scoffed. "‘Wicked' is based on a book that’s based on the ‘Wizard of Oz’. I've never read it, so I don't know if Elphaba and Glinda are lovers there or not."

Craig chuckled. "Well, I'm going to assume they fucked at Shiz at least once."

With a chuckle of his own, Tweek began to reply when a new voice cut him off.

"Hey! Hey! Craig, you—cocksucker!”

Tweek flinched, spinning around. Sooner or later, he knew some crazed fan would come to harass them. Why did it have to be tonight though? Even with the skinny jeans thing, the night was going so well!

As the man neared, Tweek’s heart pounded in his ears. They weren't too far from the theater, so there had to be more patrons nearby who could call the police if a fight broke out, right? 

Scanning around, he saw only a huddle of people across the street, though they seemed to pay the couple and the yelling man no mind.

A disheveled man with short, messy hay-colored hair ran up to them and Craig stiffened. The man had bags under his eyes so deep that they rivaled the ones Tweek had when he was in the worst of his teenage anxieties.

"S-sorry!" He stammered, doubling over to pant. "I didn't mean to say--fuck!--that."

Tweek straighten. He wasn't much taller than the man, and nowhere near as tall as Craig, but he could be intimidating if he wanted to be.

"What do you want? We're busy right now," Tweek told him firmly. If they left quickly before this man started shouting at them, the night could still be salvaged.

Craig put his hand on Tweek's shoulder. He turned to him, and Craig shook his head.

With a deep breath first, Craig looked to the man. In an uninterested tone, he greeted, "Hello, Thomas."

Tweek stifled a gasp. Thomas? The Thomas? The one who forced Craig to out himself? That asshole?

Rage bubbled up in Tweek. He gritted his teeth and curled his hands into fists. If this jerk tried to cause trouble he would—

Craig wrapped his hand around his and squeezed without breaking eye contact with Thomas.

Thomas looked at their hands then looked away guiltily.

"Craig, I need to talk to--asshole! I need to talk to you." He chewed his lip. "Please."

"Why? So you can sell whatever I say to a magazine again?" Craig somehow remained coolly detached when he spoke. Thomas winced as if Craig just punched him in the gut.

"Craig, please, I didn't mean to. They had--they had a picture of us and--Balls shit!--we were kissing. How could I reply to that? Mother fucker! There was nothing I could have done! They would have run the picture anyway if I didn't answer. I--shit cock!-- I had to tell the truth!"

Thomas slumped forward, shrinking down like a dog about to be scolded for breaking a vase.

"I'm sorry. I did what I thought was best for you."

All at once, Craig’s aloof attitude broke. A low growl ripped from his throat as he stomped forward a step, getting into Thomas' personal space.

Jabbing a finger at his chest, he snarled, "‘Best for me'? If you wanted what was best for me you would have called me when it happened. Not Red. Me. You would have stood by me and helped me figure this out, but you wussed out on me and didn’t even answer my calls."

Thomas’ breath shook as he took it. He blinked hard, but under the streetlamp's light, he couldn't hide that his eyes were wet. 

A pang of pity hit Tweek's stomach. 

Thomas still loved Craig and probably did do what he thought was best. The cold indifference then a blast of sheering hot fury must have hurt more than Thomas let on.

Tweek reached out and grabbed a tassel of Craig's hat. Pulling it, he managed to make Craig step back.

"I'm sorry. I got scared, Craig! I'm not...Look at me! Who would want to come out dating someone like me?" He whimpered.

"I did — would! I never gave a fuck about your tics or how you looked." He squeezed Tweek's hand so hard, that Tweek bit back a yelp. Craig didn’t notice. "But that doesn't matter now, I guess. Goodbye, Thomas."

Craig pulled Tweek down the street. Tweek looked over his shoulder to see Thomas sigh heavily and slowly walk the way he came. The huddle of people instantly turned their attention to him when he neared. They started to console Thomas, but Craig took Tweek around a corner before he could see more.

"Craig..." Tweek started, "Um...that was—"

"Harsh?" Craig stopped, and Tweek bumped into his back. "Yeah, I know. It's the first time we've seen each other in months. He's been avoiding me. I guess it all came up at once."

Tweek twiddled his thumbs. It wasn't his place to say, but he couldn't hold his tongue on this. "I think he really was sorry."

"Yeah, I know," Craig repeated. "I know." He sighed. "Sorry. I just...I'll forgive him some time, but not right now. He threw my whole life out of sync and didn't even have the guts to help me set it back up. I think I'm entitled to making him squirm a little."

Tweek shrugged nervously. "Yeah, maybe, but you're not going to make him suffer too much, right?" 

At least Thomas seemed to have friends to help him through Craig’s retribution, but Tweek still felt pity for him. Breaks up hurt, he knew that from experience, but all Tweek's breakups had been over issues much more trivial or minor than what Craig and Thomas went through.

"Another couple of weeks or a month, and I'll reach out," Craig muttered after a moment's thought, "but, Thomas and I are over. I couldn't ever trust him fully again." He flashed a smile at Tweek before taking his hands gently in his. "At least, I got one good thing out of this."

He bent down and kissed Tweek, slow and sweet. Tweek chuckled and rested his forehead against his.

"I wish I'd been able to meet you when I was younger. I think you would have made an awesome first boyfriend," Craig said with a lopsided smile. 

"You know, I think I just thought of a great idea for a song if you'd like to head back to my place for the night and work on it," Tweek offered.

"I'd love that."

---

AN: Epilogue posted in a week