#and I mean. fair judgment and I stand by it. but yeah that started when I was like too young to even really know about the concept

[seilon]

having the sudden realization that the suite life (+ on deck) put me through a bisexual crisis way before i fully considered not being straight and i just. chose to ignore it

[a-strange-inkling]

Day 15: Hot Chocolate

(Part Two of Day 5: Snowman)

Hawkins, Indiana 1992

They’re packed in the Harringtons’ living room, drinking hot chocolate to warm up, and all hell is breaking loose. 

“Oh my God, Henderson!” Steve exclaims from the kitchen, where he’s laddling out his delicious homemade crockpot cocoa, made with a special secret ingredient (it’s almond extract…for being a secret, he really likes to tell everyone what it is). “Just make up your mind! Who wins!?” 

“Quiet, Steve,” Dustin orders him from where he is lounging on the couch with a full warm belly, hands pressed together against his lips contemplatively, watching The Muppet Christmas Carol with Dusty and Charlie on either side of him. “I’m digesting mentally and physically, let me think.”

“The competition is already over,” Eddie pipes up from where he is sitting with Chrissy on the loveseat, Maggie nestled cozily in between them, drinking her ‘cool girl’ cocoa (chocolate milk) from her sippy cup. “We were only supposed to make one snowman and the Harringtons made two. Munson family wins by default.” 

“I told you, Steve!” Gwen whines from the armchair, bouncing baby Milo on her knee. “I told you we shouldn’t have put so much work into the dog.”

“Hey, hey, hey the snowdog is adorable, and the rules said we could add accessories.” Steve snaps.

“A dog is not an accessory! It’s a replica of a living thing! It counts as a whole other sculpture!” Eddie nearly screams making Maggie turn in his lap and cover his mouth with her hands. “No, Daddy, no cry, no cry.” 

“I’m not crying, Mags.” he replies in muffled assurance. “Just making sure the rules are being followed here.”

“No mean to Tee Tee!”

Chrissy bursts into a fit of giggles at the toddler’s passionate display of defense for her Uncle Steve, quick to take a sip to hide behind her mug when Eddie shoots her an insincere scowl.

“Yeah, Munson,” Steve agrees with a shit eating grin. “No mean to Tee.”

“Yeah, well, Tee is a cheater.” Eddie counters pointedly. 

Chrissy gives his arm a little squeeze, before pulling it around her, leaning against his shoulder. He huffs, snuggling back against her. Is he being immature? Yes. But there is no way they can compete with the cuteness of that snowdog. 

“Does that mean we lose?” Dusty asks, sporting a chocolate stash from his mug. “Are we the losers, Uncle Dustin?” 

“No, namesake,” he comforts, patting his head benignly, taking a long sip of his cocoa. “I’ve made the decision to judge the individual snowmen and leave the dog out of it, to keep it fair.” 

Eddie throws his head back laughing maniacally. Without that dog their generic ass snowman has nothing on David Snowie. 

“Eddie.” Chrissy scolds.

“Are you kidding me!?” Steve cries, coming in with his own mug after serving Olivia and David who quietly go to sit together on a blanket in front of the couch, blissfully ignoring the rowdiness around them and enjoying their own company instead.

“Who decided to have you be the judge anyway, Henderson?” Steve asks (he did), the dish towel on his shoulder suddenly in his hand being waved in the young man’s face. “You clearly have no idea how to properly evaluate snowmen and you’ve let all this power go to your head. You keep changing the rules.” 

“Oh, now you don’t want him judging, Harrington? Now that he’s not letting you cheat?” Eddie asks incredulously.

“Alright, alright,” Dustin yells over the arguing, raising his hands to silence everyone. “I can see there will be no peace until I cast my judgment, so…”

He pauses the movie and stands, clearing his throat, brushing off his sweater. “After having fully assessed both of the Harrington and Munson family’s entries in the First Annual Impromptu and Totally Pointless Snowman Competition, I hereby decree that…” he pauses dramatically while everyone waits with anticipation. 

“That you both tie.” he smiles triumphantly, placing his hands on his hips.

It’s silent for all of eight seconds before everyone starts yelling and screaming in protest.

@hellcheerxmas

[good-beanswrites]

Director's commentary for "I prefer to not be disturbed"?

Starting here, perhaps, since the fic is over 500 words.

Kotoko grits her teeth. She doesn’t plan on harming Amane as she did the others

Aw yeah! This is definitely one that doesn't quite stand up to canon anymore, but my justifications for little details still hold up!! Thanks pal :3

Kotoko grits her teeth. She doesn’t plan on harming Amane as she did the others -- she would never raise a hand to a child (despite what she told her about avoiding special treatment.) Still, the girl needs to be taught a lesson. Kotoko is a vessel for justice. She has been chosen. She will not be turned away so easily.

*siiiigh* So I did think Kotoko had it in her to attack Amane when I wrote this -- the problem was, the original ask had a lighthearted/comedic tone, and I wanted to go for a lighthearted/comedic tone. And. There's no way to casually drop child abuse in a comedy piece. I had to find a compromise for this piece, and this was my solution 😅 I thought it would work to have Kotoko threaten Amane that she wouldn't hold back because she's a child, but deep down Kotoko knows she couldn't really do it.

(And as much as I enjoy reading Kotoko as she will justify any means to the ends, to be fair, this could still be true to canon -- she could have just told Es those things to keep up her reputation, but we don't know what she'd actually do under pressure...)

“Momose Aman--”

The door opens a crack from the other side.

I rarely write in present tense but sometimes it just really works. I tried it out for the urgency and action of this one, and thought it fit well. And then proceeded to mess up the tense every other sentence. I think I caught them all by the time I posted it...

"I prefer not to be disturbed."

Amane looks up, her expression making it clear she has already been disturbed. Kotoko’s fierce red eyes are startled by the gaze looking up at her.

There's nothing scarier than a righteous twelve year old that you've upset -_-

“Well,” Kotoko shifts so she can see the blood that flecks her clothes. She can get a good look at her boots, and her raw knuckles. Amane sizes her up, her purpose becoming clear. “I --”

“You will need to come back later.”

Kotoko's brow furrows. She doesn’t have time to come back later. She can already hear Kazui collecting himself from where she’d left him with Fuuta. She wasn't prepared for any of this.

Can you 'hear' someone collecting themself? Probably not, but I kept bumping into the problem where Kotoko needed to know time was running out without Kazui directly charging at her 😅 I liked the idea of an incredibly efficient Kotoko, that she'd be a bit frazzled when things don't go according to her meticulous plan. As adaptable as she seems, I bet she thinks far enough ahead to plan for any derailment..... and this was not one she expected. I liked the humor in Amane instantly throwing Kotoko off of literally everything she'd prepared.

“Er... You have been named guilty. Your...” She clears her throat. “Milgram has named you guilty of an unforgivable murder.”

“Milgram is wrong.”

Amane’s voice is unwavering. Her eyes went from mild frustration to a pinpointed rage.

(RIP I didn't catch all the tense issues.... I actually think this was meant to be "had gone" and I thought I could swap it with the less wordy "went" since her expression changed while Kotoko was talking, not after Amane's line. Anyway.)

Kotoko had just listened to Mahiru’s cries that this was all a mistake, though the woman accepted her judgment quickly. She’d heard Fuuta’s excuses and denials, showing nothing but an immature rejection of what he’d done. But the way that Amane rejected her verdict, Kotoko was actually inclined to believe her.

No, she would not be mislead. She was not mistaken. She was here to bring only righteousness. She was here to administer punishments.

I enjoyed the idea of all the guilties having similar excuses that "Milgram got it wrong, I did nothing wrong", but Amane is the only one who truly believes it. (I think out of everyone, she's really the only one with absolutely no doubt in her mind that she's in the wrong.) Because she believes it's the truth as she says it, it makes it convincing to others as well.

“I am here to--”

“-- you are here to disturb me. I refuse to be taken from my studies.”

Amane squares her shoulders. She starts rolling up her sleeves.

Kotoko knows better than to mess with a young woman with that kind of fire in her eyes.

Now we have Lucky, but at the time I was just thinking about Kotoko herself. She remembers a time when she was that age, likely with similar drive and anger. She knows the kind of damage she could have caused at that age, and doesn't want to test that out with Amane.

Also, I think it's pretty 50/50 of Amane actually mad about being interrupted and defending herself from a clear threat. She's letting Kotoko know she'll fight back, but she genuinely is very annoyed that her activity/focus was interrupted.

She gets the feeling that even if she doesn’t take things too far, Amane will. That was not part of her grand plan of delivering justice.

I tried to use loose wording here -- "even if," "wasn't part of her plan" -- to show that Kotoko is still very capable of attacking Amane, it's just not her plan at the moment.

She straightens. “...I understand.”

She hears Kazui is nearly recovered. She thinks she hears Shidou’s voice as well. Too much time has been spent here, with no easy resolution. There’s one more prisoner she must deliver punishment to -- one whose verdict was the absolute clearest to the warden. He should be her true priority.

I liked hearing theories about whether guilty ratio or just prisoner number affected Kotoko's order of attack (reference not intended), so I usually go with the idea that the voting ratio was reflected in Es' personality when they made the decision. The rest of the prison can tell that Es was most sure about Mikoto's guilty verdict, and least sure about Amane's, hence Kotoko's view that he was far more of a threat than her.

Kotoko steps back. “You will see the error in your ways in due time. But for now, I’ll leave you to it.”

Amane’s hard set expression doesn’t change. She gives a curt bow. “Or, perhaps you will. Thank you.”

Even when threatened, she remembers her manners ;-; I wanted this to be a funny line, of them pleasantly saying "thank you :) goodnight :)" after such an intense moment, but on a serious note, I think Amane is conditioned to use her manners in the face of even the meanest adults...

Kotoko doesn’t lose another moment hurrying to the neighboring cell. She spares a single glance over her shoulder. She just has to be sure those intense green eyes are off of her. Amane shoots her one more look before shutting the door.

After exhaling a little sigh -- not out of relief, if anyone were to ask -- she pounds three times on the next cell.

Although this line was mostly for a nice comedy ending, I do think out of everyone, Kotoko wouldn't underestimate her. She wouldn't necessarily be afraid like this, but she would 100% know to take the girl's anger and capability very seriously 👍

And I mentioned it in the tags of the original but I can definitely see Kazui and Shidou figuring out Kotoko's plan, finding the victims she left in the previous guilty cells, and bursting into Amane's cell to meet her Even Worse anger at being disturbed again, by Shidou of all people...

[cross-armageddon]

guess who

back with the pjo x prsk

i only managed to figure out An and Haruka + beginnings of Tsukasa and Ena, so uhhh

STALLING TIME, NO VBS TODAY

Prima Vista (1/2)

I was thinking which ones I should start with to be fair. I have powers for all of Prima, but I didn't knoe whether to split them for camps, or do mixed pairs or whether to start with Hayato/Kaii or Ranmaru/Ikuo, but I decided for Hayato and Kaii in the end, since you've seen them before in the pjo au posts

Hayato

He was the last one to be admitted to the camp, out of everyone (including the normal characters), but he's known there was "something wrong" with him already. Only after learning about demigods, he realized all those things he's seen over the years are simply because of his godparent, which was obvious to him that it was Apollo. He has no control over his powers and that gives him trouble most of the time.

His side power is that art thing - what's that mean is basically that he can pick up any art form and have it easy. Of course he won't be perfect in anything, unless he practices, but he will have an easier time learning. If you had read the Prima stories earlier, you know that Hayato knows how to play multiple instruments, violin being his most beloved.

His main power is connected to his dreams and that is the ability to see into the future in dreams. Now, it's actually kind of natural for demigods to sometimes have visions inside dreams, but the issue with Hayato is that he sees them every night and they show how the next day will play out. It won't show anything directly, instead it will look like a scene from an anime or a game (personally imagining it like Genshin gameplay and cutscenes). Nothing is fully clear in those dreams - he can't see how he looks like, because a mirror never appears. The people inside the dream only share some features with the real people in his life. The actions are very vivid and at times blurry or simply too fast. It's never clear, so Hayato has to decipher what could possibly happen, but since fate is unpredictable, his judgments end up being partially or completely wrong.

He avoids everything to do with the future-seeing powers - tries not to get claimed by Apollo, wants to escape the fate that he sees and at times he tries going days without sleeping (which actually ends up being worse, because then he sees prophetic hallucinations instead of dreams. He will still not sleep.)

(i swear he is so fun to draw, his hair is so fucking satisfying to draw, so simple yet fun)

Oh yeah. He has never told anyone he knows his godparent. Toya is blissfully unaware that suddenly his new classmate is also his half-brother.

Hayato also hid himself away from the camp when he saw a claim sign in his dream, fearing it would be him. It was Kaii's Neptunus claim and Kaii was pretty bummed out that Hayato was nowhere to be seen at that time. Once Hayato heard though, he was very relieved (that it wasn't him) and tried to make it up to him.

Speaking of Kaii

I don't know which Poseidon/Neptunus quirks I vould give him to not make him too OP. As one of the big three, he probably should have something more, but on the other hand - manipulating the water tension is already OP in itself. It all actually comes down to how he uses it and how creative he gets to be with the ideas. At first he finds this unnecessary, since he wasn't able to control it freely, but once he actually started training, he started thinking differently. Here are a few ideas I have for how he could be using his powers:

The most useful one is definitely the ones relating to mobility. He definitely had a LOT of troubles trying to walk on water, because it was as slippery as ice, due to the surface not having traction. In the end he came up with the idea to slide/skate on it like ice and yep, that sure fixed it.

The "walking on rain" idea came from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, specifically Steel Ball Run. The Stand Catch The Rainbow had the stand user standing on raindrops. I am pretty confident that with some natural water bending and Kaii's tension manipulation, he could freely run on raindrops, but it would most likely be difficult and require TONS of training.

If we're talking about other inspirations for the powers, I like to think that water not breaking tension on him is so funny... He's like a duck if he wants to stay dry... 🦆

As for the not letting enemies outside of the depths, it was inspired by that one twitter comment being like "What if the water just doesn't let you out one day"

I mean, fuck, what IF it doesn't let you out

It would definitely be brutal coming from Kaii, since he can just not let the water break tension around him like if he was in a bubble, but... Well, he is capable of drowning something in self defense. He's pretty desensitized to most physical things and if it's against a monster, he would do it no questions asked. If it was against another (enemy) demigod and he'd let them stay down there for a bit too long... Yeah, he'd have to process this with himself. You can expect him using the water trap very sparringly, last resort even.

If you have any MORE ideas for how he can use these powers... You can share ofc 👀

(bringing this gem back)

Also, one more relating to Ichika and Kaii - in the Prima canon I did make them cousins. Kaii's mom is one of Ichika's parents older sister. I have no clue which one, so... If someone claims a godparent for her, they would still work out as cousins.

I guess even if they ended up not being related in the end, their relationship would still stay as cousins, just... different blood.

As an additional fun fact, in my Prima add-in, Ichika and Kaii entered the camp together. Both of them found it a bit crazy that the other cousin also had the same issues with dyslexia and the "demigod specific" type of neurodivergency and it was incredibly awkward. They have each other's backs tho.

As a bonus: The Big Three of each camp

Getting sneak peaks for others early woa woa woa

although the Nene/Saki designs might change according to their powers when I do in fact figure them out

you cant tell me Tsukasa wouldnt wear the wreath all the time btw, he got it fair and square and he WILL wear it ‼️‼️

[the-i-can-dig-destiel]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Inspired by Aceriee’s Art

My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and I have always believed, firmly, that I will meet my end staring down the barrel of a gun. 

And, well, not that I haven’t. I’ve had my fair share of death by a gun. Dare I say, more than the average Joe. But those never seem to stick in our family. Anyways, I digress. 

If not a gunshot, then I was absolutely sure that it was gonna be a heart attack! My very unhealthy eating habits aside, I figured there’s only so much stress a heart can take before it gives up. I mean, how many apocalypses would I get to prevent, and/or stop before the sheer terror got too much? 

And then of course, there was the obvious choice. Death at the hands of a monster. This one I always tried to avoid thinking about. First, because it was bad juju, and second, because I thought myself better than that. 

But, here we are! At the age of 41, I have finally met a foe strong enough to defeat me. 

Heart, meet rebar. And just when I had found the perfect dog! 

I mean, really, I blame it on the poor judgment of whoever thought this would make for a good interior design. Who goes around leaving rebars out of walls? I have worked construction before, I know the safety codes, and if it isn’t obvious by my state right now, this is so against most of them. 

SAM: Alright. Let's go find those kids, get them outta here.

Oh boy! Sam doesn’t know yet. As Donna would say, hooftah! Hmm. How to break this to him?

DEAN: Sam...I don't... Mm.I don't think I'm going anywhere buddy.

I should tell him to remember to take Miracle for a walk when he’s done here. Preferably before burning my body to ashes. That takes too long and my boy is too tiny. I just cleaned the bunker. 

SAM: What? What are you talking about?

Dammit Sam. Must you choose this moment to go dumb? 

DEAN: There's something in my...Something in my back. It feels like it's right through my heart man. 

Finally! That gets Sam to stand directly in front of me, still a few inches away and he reaches around to my back. Don’t know about him, but I’m not surprised to see his hand come back bloody. Too much blood. He better not get blood on the bunker floor either. 

DEAN:Oh, God.

SAM: Alright. Um… Hold on. Okay. Uh, I got you.

The fuck does this fool think he’s doing?

DEAN: No, no, no, no, no. Don't... Don't... Don't move me. 

Ugh, how many times do I have to repeat myself before he hears me? I’m literally at my deathbed and the kid still hasn’t learned to listen to me. 

Figures. 

DEAN: Don't move me.It feels like this thing's holding me together right now. Just give me… Just give me a minute.

SAM: Yeah. Um... alright. I'll call for help. I'll get the first-aid kit.

Might be the bloodloss, but time starts to stretch as I watch Sam take out his phone and move to walk away. I do remember what I said to him earlier today. 

The whole “I think about 'em, too. You know what? That pain's not gonna go away.Right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing.”

The thing is, I lied. I do that. And honestly, if Sam believed that bullshit, it’s on him. Anyways, yeah, I lied and though I always hoped for more dignity in my death, truth is, I don't want him to get help. Not gonna do anyone any good, even if by some miracle they get me to survive this. 

DEAN: Sam, Sam! Sam… Stay wi… Stay with me… Can you stay with me, please?

SAM: Okay. Yeah.

Huh! Can’t believe that actually worked. Maybe he is learning to listen to me. Better put it to use. First thing’s first. 

DEAN: Okay. Okay. Uh... right. Alright. Listen to me. Um… You get those boys and you get them someplace safe, alright?

SAM: Dean...We are gonna get them somewhere safe.

Bless his heart. My little brother. 

DEAN: No. We knew it was always gonna end like this for me. I mean, maybe not exactly like this, not the kinda penetration I’m into really, but It was supposed to end like this, right? I mean, look at us. Saving people, hunting things… It's what we do. What we’ve always done. 

SAM: No, no. Stop, okay? Just... Just stop.

But I’m tired. How do I tell him that I’m so tired? How do I make him understand this is happening because of the sleepless nights I’ve had these past few weeks, escaping images of nothingness taking away all the light in my world? 

DEAN: It's okay. It's good. We had one hell of a ride, man. But I’m done… 

SAM: I will find a way, okay? I-I will find another way.

DEAN: No, man. No. No. No, no, no, no. You’re not hearing me! No bringing me back, okay? You know... You know that always ends badly.

SAM: Dean...

DEAN: Sammy I’m done.. I can’t do this anymore.. Not without him… 

God, please let this be enough for him. Please let this get him to let me go. 

SAM: P-Please… what about the beach? Our feet in the sand, drinks with tiny umbrellas, Dean, you… you said it yourself! You said if Jack… you PROMISED ME!  

Oh Jesus, here come the fireworks… how do I make him understand, if I can’t have matching hawaiian shirts with Cas… What the hell am I supposed to do without his pretty ass there? How am I expected to just go on, when I know Cas is surrounded by darkness? By nothingness? By the empty…

DEAN: I'm fading pretty… I'm fading pretty quickly, so... there's a few things that I need you to hear… Come here. Let me look at you. Yeah, there he is.

Ok, Winchester. Take a deep breath. You can do this. You can make this ok for your little brother. 

DEAN: I'm so proud of you, Sam. You know that? I've always looked up to you. Man, when we were kids, you were so damn smar... smart. You never… You never took any of dad's crap. I never knew how you did that… And you're stronger than me… 

Yeah kid. You lived your life unafraid of what he would say. You dared to love and you … not like me. You never let it get too late to say… I wish I had told him Sammy… I wish I could tell you what really happened that night in the dungeon… I wish I could tell you how Cas was brave, and selfless and the best goddamned thing that ever happened to me and I was a coward, I was scared and selfish and to nobody’s surprise I let both of us down… 

DEAN: Hey, did I ever tell you... Did I ever tell you that night that, uh... that I ca... That I came for you when you were at school? You know, when dad hadn't come back from his hunting trip? I must have stood outside your dorm for hours... because I didn't... I didn't know what... What you would say… I thought you'd tell me to... to get lost or get dead…

I know I could never bring myself to tell you about him Sammy. Even if I wasn’t choking on my own blood, I still would never have enough time to tell you about how he made me wanna stay alive… He was it for me, and I can’t tell you that… But I can tell you about you! 

DEAN: And I don't know what I would've done... if I didn't have you. 'Cause I was so scared. I was scared, 'cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me…

Sam is crying now, and well, what’s one more thing for me to hate myself for, right? 

SAM: Then don't leave me. Don't leave me. I can't do this alone.

DEAN: Yes, you can.

Because I need you to… 

SAM: Well, I don't want to.

Well, ain’t that a bitch? Kids feeding me my own words from all those years ago. Well, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s bullshitting. Hunting used to take the first place but after this colossal mess, I can’t really give myself that. 

DEAN: Hey. I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna be with you… Right here... every day. Every day you're out there and you're Li... And you're living and you're fighting, 'cause you… You always keep fighting. You hear me? I'll be there every step. I love you so much. My baby brother.

Oh, man. I can’t believe I’m crying too. Shit. I used to think at least when I die, I’d get to spend the rest of it with Cas… Not that I would ever be caught dead admitting it… Oh, well, doesn’t seem to matter now anyways. 

DEAN: Well, I did not think this would be the day. But it is. It is, and that's… Man... that's okay. I need you to... I need you to promise me. I need you to… To... to tell me... that it's okay. I need you to tell me that it's okay… 

SAM: No! 

Sam don’t look away from me. Please brother, I need you to let me go. Shit, what if I become a ghost? I mean, does never getting to say I love you to Cas count as unfinished business? Sure as hell sounds like it to me! Shit, Sam better burn all my stuff just to be sure. 

DEAN:  Look at me. Look at me. I need... I need to go Sammy… and I need you to tell me that it's okay. I need you to tell me… Tell me it's okay.

SAM: No, goddammit Dean! No. I will never!  

Uh-oh! Sammy’s letting go of me and I just don’t think that’s such a good idea. Should I tell him I can’t really feel my legs? Would be nice if I could be spared the embarrassment of a faceplant pre-death. 

SAM: JACK! Jack, you better get down here and help me or so help me, I will make a way up there and… JACK! You fucking promised this wouldn’t happen! You said you would be a better god! 

Ok, this might be a good time to tell Sammy to stop yelling and get moving, but the light behind him is pretty distracting and shit, man, I used to be able to focus before… 

“Sam! Sam, I am here. There is no need for you to yell. What’s goin…” Jack finds himself in the middle of a barn, dead bodies of what seemed to be vampires littering the floor, and it’s not until Sam moves towards him that he spots the reason behind his calls. 

“Oh Dean…” Just as he moves towards the older Winchester, Sam gets a hold of his shoulders and Jack feels his heart break for him. His eyes look hollow, as if it was him who was on the edge of death. 

“Please… you have to do something! You have to save him! He’s not… please Jack!” 

“Hey, Sam, Sam! If you let me take a look at Dean, I can try and help.” 

Sam takes a few deep breaths, trying to compose himself, then nods once before stepping aside and Jack finally gets to look at Dean. It hasn’t been long since he left the brothers on earth and went to sort out the universe, but Dean seems to have aged decades. 

“Dean?” He calls out once, but just as he thought, Dean’s out of his reach. At least, physically. He tries not to imagine all the self-deprecating jokes Dean must have come up with over being impaled by a rebar in a bar. 

He tries and fails. Winchesters. 

“Sam, help me pull him off the rod.” He knows just as well as Sam, that he does not need any help moving Dean’s body. They’re both aware of the pity he takes on Sam, letting him do something before he loses his mind for good. 

“Ok, yeah, gently on the ground.” And before Dean’s body hits the ground, he is healed. He ignores the voice in his head, metaphorically speaking, accusing him of ignoring his own rules. What happened to being a hands off God? Well, this is DEAN! 

“Jack, what are you waiting for? Heal him! Bring him back!” 

“I have healed him, Sam.” 

“Then why isn’t he waking up?”

Yeah, Jack was never a fan of the on brand Winchester’s lack of anger management. He pushes his annoyance aside and reaches for Dean’s soul. 

Huh. Interesting. He’s fairly new to being God, but he’s got a good track record with resurrections and he’s pretty sure no soul has ever resisted being pulled back so hard. 

Typical. Leave it to Dean fucking Winchester. 

“It’s like he’s resisting his body’s pull. Sam, what happened here? What am I missing?” 

“I… shit, Jack, I dunno. We were on a hunt, and we just rescued these kids and, he just wouldn’t let me get help, and he kept saying this is good, and he wants to go, and I … I didn’t know what else to do Jack…” 

“Ok, ok, Sam, look at me. I need you to go and take care of the kids. I am going to try and find out where Dean is.”

He leaves the second part of that sentence unsaid. Why does he not want to live?

The sky is a beautiful blue/green, as Dean and Cas watch the sun set. Dean pushes his sunglasses up on his head, then holds Cas’ hand in his, and relishes in the sensation of their arms touching. Cas’ hot skin against his, contrasting with the ice cold drink in his other hand, makes him feel dizzy. Or is it the blood loss?

“What?” He asks, not really sure who he’s talking to. 

“I didn’t say anything.” Cas replies. Taking a sip from his martini. The blue shirt brings out the ocean blue in his eyes, breathtakingly infinite. 

“You know, you really do look good in floral patterns…” Dean’s not really sure why his heart aches at the exclamation. This has been the most flawless day, a long overdue vacation for just the two of them. Then why does it feel cold?

“Well, you don’t look too bad yourself, Dean.” Castiel studies him, and Dean immediately feels warmer. “I like your tan. And your sunglasses on your head. It makes it easier for me to see your eyes.” 

The sheer openness with which Cas talks to him is enough to make Dean want to run away. But not here. It’s safe here. Why? 

It’s almost easy for the words to fall out. “Yeah? What about my eyes?”

“They never lie to me… never have, never will…” Dean resists the urge to shy away. 

“And what are they telling you now?” 

“I’m sorry Dean, I will not make it that easy for you… If you want to tell me something, you have to say it yourself.” Cas says in a cheeky tone before looking away again. 

“I know, I know that! I just... Ca–” Dean is interrupted by a sudden shock of pain. He drops to the floor, clutching his chest, crying out in pain. No, this wasn’t supposed to happen here… not here… 

Castiel is staring at a figure behind him.

“Billie.”

“What? That’s impossible Cas!” But even as Dean’s fighting to get the words out through his pain, the world around them gets eerily darker, and all of a sudden they’re back at the bunker.

Cas grabs Dean by the shoulders and tries to guide him away. But Dean’s legs are cemented into the floor. He knows exactly where this leads, and he is not about to relive it. 

“My heart... I can feel her.” He hears himself say. No, no no no. Go back to the beach. Please. 

“Come on, Dean. We gotta go. Come on.”

Castiel pulls Dean away, almost carrying him through the bunker as Dean gasps and grunts in pain. Hold on to his arm. 

At the bottom of the stairs now, Billie’s following them slowly. 

“It's you, Dean. It's always been you. Death-defying. Rule-breaking. You are everything I lived to set right. To put down. To tame.”

Dean collapses beside the bookshelves just out of view, gripping his chest. Castiel looks over his shoulder where Billie still approaches.

“You are human disorder incarnate.”

No. I was ok to go this time. Please, I wanted to go… I was… 

In the downstairs hallway now, Castiel's supporting Dean's weight with Dean's arm over his shoulders as he hurries him through the bunker, away from Billie. Dean clutches his heart, groaning in pain. Please, Cas, I don’t want to do this again… I can’t… Please, just let me go with her…

But nothing comes out of Dean’s mouth. 

“I've got you Dean.”

They round another hallway corner, but not far behind them is Billie, still holding her scythe.

“Come on, Dean. You can't escape me.”

Dean wants to say he’s not trying to. He wants to scream and ask her to just take him. Anything to stop them from entering the dungeon. But Cas keeps dragging him, and Dean is not in control here.

Billie drags the blade of her scythe against the tile wall. 

“Don't you think it's finally time? Time for the sweet release of death?”

Yes, I do… 

Around another corner, Castiel guides Dean into basement storage room 7B and closes the door behind them. Dean coughs, still holding his chest as he doubles over. No no no no no.

Castiel finds a pocket knife in Dean's back pants pocket and uses it to cut his own palm. He uses the blood to paint warding onto the door. Dean wants to die. 

Castiel turns towards him.

“It blocked her grip on you.”

Billie pounds her fist against the door. It shudders. The warding crackles, but holds. The slow pounding continues.

“Dean, she said that wound was killing her. Maybe we can wait her out.”

Yes, please, that’s a fantastic idea, let’s just wait her out. 

“Yeah, and if we can't?”

“Then we fight.”

Yes, I will fight till my dying breath for you, just don’t go…  

“We'll lose. I just led us into another trap, all because I couldn't hurt Chuck. Because I was angry and because I just needed something to kill, and because that's all I know how to do…”

“Dean…”

“It was Chuck all along. We shouldn't have left Sam and Jack. We should be there with them right now. Everybody's gonna die, Cas. Everybody.” You’re going to die… and “I can't stop it. She's gonna get through that door.”

“I know.”

“And she's gonna kill you, and then she's gonna kill me.”

Dean wishes he was already dead. He wishes he’d never said those words… He wishes… 

They share a look. Castiel agrees, their situation is hopeless, but he can't bring himself to say it.

“I'm sorry.” and Dean’s never said any truer words. 

“Wait, there is... There's one thing she's afraid of. There's one thing strong enough to stop her. When Jack was dying, I made a deal to save him.”

Dean wants to be mad at him, he really does, but he would make any deal, in a heartbeat, just to stop Cas from doing this. Who’s Dean to blame him? 

“You what?”

“The price was my life. When I experienced a moment of true happiness, The Empty would be summoned, and it would take me forever.”

Dean Can’t breathe. 

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be? What my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer because the one thing I want... It's something I know I can't have. But I think I know... I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having, it's in just being. It's in just saying it.”

Then just stay and be goddamnit! Dean should have just hit him in the head hard, should have knocked him out cold. He should have stopped Cas, right there and then. 

“What are you talking about, man?”

“I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive, and you're angry, and you're broken. You're daddy's blunt instrument. And you think that hate and anger, that's... That's what drives you, that's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are. You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.” 

Cas is crying and Dean is paralyzed. He’s as paralyzed as he was the first time around. And as paralyzed as every night ever since, lying in bed, reliving this moment over and over and over again. 

“You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell... Knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack... I cared about the whole world because of you.”

Yeah, and look where that got you… 

“You changed me, Dean.”

Fuck you for doing this to me Cas… 

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?” Please don’t say goodbye like this…  Don’t say it…  

“Because it is.”

It still lands like a punch to his guts, and Dean inhales, ready to argue, but Castiel confesses before he can.

“I love you.”

“Don't do this, Cas.” I love you too. 

There's a wet noise from behind Dean and he turns to see black goo from The Empty squeezing through the bricks in the bunker's wall as a portal begins to open. They both know what this means. No more matching hawaiian shirts, no more tiny umbrella drinks, no more mix tapes, no more cowboy dressups, no more running away from their profound bond. 

There are tears in Dean's eyes as he turns back to Castiel. Castiel is still smiling tearfully. I wish I could hate you… The warded door busts open. Billie stands behind it with her scythe. There's no more time.

“Cas…” don’t go… please just don’t go… I can’t go on without you… 

Castiel puts his hand, bloodied from when he'd cut it for the warding, on Dean's shoulder. Right where he had laid hands on him for the first time all those years back in hell, and he might as well be throwing Dean back in hell with this. 

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Castiel shoves Dean aside. He hits the floor beneath the portal. A handprint of Castiel's blood remains on the shoulder of his jacket. Billie enters the room. Castiel looks at Dean one last time, smiling, and inhales as the black liquid tendrils of The Empty wrap around him. The Empty crashes against Billie, pulling her in along with them. Dean wants to get up, wants to run over and hold on to Cas’ hand, keep him here, or go with him dammit, but instead he watches in shock as the portal to The Empty closes, and he's left alone, panting, stunned, gutted, heartbroken, empty.

Dean, who is still alone in the basement of the bunker, still sitting against the wall where Cas had pushed him. He’s impaled on the wall. He holds his cellphone in his hand as it vibrates, ringing again, and again, and again, he looks at it. "Incoming Call: Jack" He stares at it, then looks around, tears in his eyes. He drops the phone, leaving it to ring on the stone ground as he buries his face in his hands and begins to cry.

“DEAN!” Jack tries to break the memory again, reaching for Dean, but his father seems to be lost to his sorrows. He seems to be stuck in this horrible loop, and Jack had no idea what had really happened the night that Cas was taken. None of them did. Dean refused to talk about it, and Jack knows why now. 

But if Dean just opens up to him, if he just picks up the phone and answers, Jack can reach him, and then he can tell Dean about where he’s been. He could tell Dean where he was when Sam called for him. 

He could tell Dean that Castiel was back. That it had taken them weeks to help him get through the worst part of his trauma, but he was back, and he was safe, and he was recharging his batteries as Dean would say, and that he would soon be ready to come back to Dean. 

But Jack needs Dean to make that choice, to take that leap, and to answer his fucking phone. 

He’s not sure how many times he’s watched Dean go through his loop, sunset at the beach, then The Empty, how many times has he cried and felt his heart break for his dads, before he folds and accepts that Dean’s just not going to open up to him. 

It’s not Jack that he wants. 

And it’s not Sam. and it’s not Mary, or John, or Bobby, or anyone else. 

It’s Castiel. 

And when it comes down to it, it has always been Castiel. 

And maybe, just like the first time around, it would take saving Dean from this hell, for Cas to find himself again. 

“Hold on just a little longer Dean…” He says as he leaves for heaven. He has the perfect plan. 

Dean holds his cellphone in his hand as it vibrates, ringing again, and again, and again, he looks at it. "Incoming Call: Castiel". He stares at it

The hell? Didn’t he just watch Cas be swallowed by The Empty? Doesn’t that mean he’s now in Gay Super Hell? Don’t be weird about the name ok? His brain’s been through a blender.

This has never happened before. Dean’s been through this loop a million times over, his own personal hell, and it’s always either Sam or Jack, calling and calling and … 

But it says Castiel on the phone now. Dean puts the phone down, tries to take a deep breath, and pickles it up again. 

 "Incoming Call: Castiel"

He pinches himself. His tears have dried up, he feels the pinch, stares at the screen, still says Castiel’s name, he takes another deep breath. 

Well, he’s been wanting a chance to change how it happened right? 

Guess this is his brain taking pity on him. God(huh) knows he doesn’t deserve it, but fuck if he cares. 

He’ll be damned before letting this chance go. 

So he slides his finger on the phone, and puts the phone to his ear. 

“C… Cas?” 

Lights explode in his eyes, and he opens them to a familiar scene. 

Well, mostly familiar. 

He’s lying down on the barn floor, close to where the rebar is poking out of the pole, and right in front of him is Casfuckingtiel in his stupid trench coat, with his stupid perfect hair and his fucking blue eyes and he’s staring at Dean with all the worry in the world, as if it wasn’t him that was just swallowed by the fucking empty right in front of Dean’s very own fucking eyes. 

Fuck. 

“Dean?” Castiel barely gets the word out, and just like that, Dean’s zapped into movement. He feels wired, live electricity running through him, and he pointedly ignores Sam and, is that Jack, AKA God? 

“Dean? Really? DEAN? That’s all you have to say to me? After putting me through… through that?” He’s only faintly aware of the fact that he’s on his legs, wobbly, he was literally stabbed in the back give him a break, and he steps forward, standing dangerously close to Castiel. 

“Dean…” 

“No! You’ve said all you had to say! It’s my turn you sadistic bastard!” 

“Uh, Dean…” Sam tries to cut in. 

“Shut up Sammy!” Back to Cas. “How DARE you! You don’t get to pull that shit with a human being Cas! You don’t get to wait ten whole fucking years, put them through the slowest burn of history, drag them along the whole god damned earth, in multiple universes, and declare your love in a selfless act of bravery and fuck off to the empty before said human gets a chance to reply! You hear me?”

“Dean, I understand you’re upset…” 

“Upset? You selfish son of a bitch, you… I …”

“You do NOT get to call me selfish Dean! I sacrificed EVERYTHING for you! For YOU! And what do you do with it? You go around and get yourself killed on a hunt! A fucking vampire hunt Dean? Really? It hasn’t even been a year! Couldn't you have given my memory that little bit of respect and kept your sorry ass alive at least a year?”

“You just fucking left me there Cas! On the ground! With NOTHING! I had nothing! You didn’t even give me a chance to say it back, you asshole! WHat did you expect to happen? The fucker I’m in love with says the big I love you and then immediately is sent to Gay Super Hell and I’m left to pick up the pieces! How was I supposed to live with that? Did you even consider how that affected me Cas? When you made that deal, did you even for a second stop to ask yourself, what about that poor son of a bitch who’s been head over heels in love with me for the past decade?” 

See, Dean has this bad habit of running his mouth when he’s angry. And it always gets the best of him. And it’s only when the silence falls that he realizes what he’s said. Well, shouted. 

You know what they say, when in Rome… 

“I love you, you stupid son of a bitch!” He clarifies, just in case Castiel missed it in all the shouting. 

“What?” Castiel looks pale. Yeah, take that! Not so nice when you’re on the receiving end, is it?

“I love you! And I don’t want to be alive without you! You’re it for me Cas!” Dean’s not even sure at this point if this is life, or death, purgatory, heaven or hell, or the fucking empty. He just knows for some reason, somehow, Cas is standing in front of him, and it’s not a memory or a wish. 

All of a sudden, Castiel launches towards him and before Dean knows it, his lips are pushed into Cas’ and oh my GOD, this is absolutely heaven. 

He kisses Cas, for all the times he didn’t, all the times he wished he had the guts, and he kisses Cas with a vengeance. It takes a while, drunk in the feel and taste of Cas’ mouth, in between the sorrys, and the I love yous, and the I thought I’d never see you agains, before he decides that he needs to know. 

“Cas… Is this real? Are you… are you real?” 

“Yes, Dean. I don’t think I have ever been more real than I am at this moment…” Of course he has to make this sound romantic. Big doofus. 

“But how?” 

“Jack got me out… I, I wanted to come to you sooner but I wasn’t sure if you… Dean I didn’t know how you’d feel about me after what I said…” 

“Well, I will be yelling at you some more for that later, but for now all I need you to know is I love you… and I need you to always come back to me Cas… Always!” 

“I think I’d really rather stick around for good instead…” 

“Well, that’s fine by me…” 

*the end*

[kraeted]

CONTAINS: iwaizumi hajime + fem reader + fluff + crack (?) + reader is on their period + mention of blood + mention of period sex (no actual sex though)

Reaching the stop of the stairs, Hajime’s morning run has finally come to an end. Thirst claws at his throat and he regrets not going back to your shared apartment when he realized he forgot his water bottle. He pulls his earphones out of his ears, his shallow breaths audible as he catches his breath. He fishes his keys out of his shorts and turns the corner before carefully opening the door, making sure the obnoxious creaks don’t reach your shared bedroom.

After discarding his shoes, he beelines to the fridge to pour himself a glass of cold water. He fights not to down it all at once, knowing what waits for him if he does. But against better judgment, he takes a few more sips. He almost chokes when he sees movement in his peripheral vision and turns to the living room, his eyebrows knitting together when he sees you sleeping on the couch. To his surprise you’re dressed in something other than your pajamas.

He puts his cup down on the counter and makes his way over to you. He softly pokes at your bare stomach. “Hey.”

“Hm?” You stir. Your arm covers your face and you peek from underneath it with squinted eyes.

“Why are you out of bed?” Hajime towers over you as he stands next to the couch.

Your bloodshot eyes roam around the room as you’re trying to make sense of your surroundings. You push yourself into a sitting position and give him another confused look. “What?”

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “I’m asking you what you’re doing on the couch, sleepyhead.”

Hajime’s words finally seem to make sense. You lie your head back down and rub the sleepiness out of your eyes. “I just got my period and bled through—” you yawn, “—the sheets. I took a quick shower and now I’m just waiting for the painkillers to kick in so I can put clean sheets on the bed.”

He shoots you a sympathetic look and gently lifts your legs to sit down next to you, resting them in his lap. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll do it.”

Without missing a beat he offers his hand which you gratefully take. You slip his hand underneath your waistband and rest it against your abdomen, his radiating heat relieving you of some of the discomfort. “Thanks, babe.”

He rubs his thumb against you. “Do you know what might help?”

You sigh. “Don’t start with your exercise propaganda.”

It’s a conversation you’ve had before. Each time he brings it up, you wonder if he’s actually after trying to relieve your pain or just trying to get a gym buddy out of the potential arrangement.

He scoffs. “You haven’t even tried it.”

“Have you tried exercising while continuously getting kicked in your balls?” You mocked him. “When you have, I’ll consider it.”

“That’s not even— whatever.” He rolls his eyes at your dramatics, not bothering to finish his sentence. He’s not winning that battle.

A comfortable silence sits with you. You rest your arm on your face again, shielding your eyes from the early morning sun brightening the living room and Iwaizumi makes himself comfortable, lying back against the couch’s backrest. He pulls your legs closer with his free hand to prevent them from slipping off him. He stares at the ceiling, opting to wait until you fall asleep again before he takes a much needed shower.

“I read somewhere orgasms are supposed to help with the cramps though.” You share, nowhere close to falling asleep.

“Are you asking me to have sex with you?” Your boyfriend turns to you with a curious glance. 

You shake your head. “With the amount of pain I’m in, there’s no way I can get horny.”

Despite your comment, he tries to imagine it. It only takes a moment for an obvious realization, his face contracting at the thought, “Yeah, I’m not a fan of blood.”

“Fair enough.” You say, but as soon as the words leave your lips you lift your arm from your eyes and look at him. “Wait, does that mean you wouldn’t help me get out my tampon if it got stuck?”

Disappointed but not surprised by your question, he shakes his head and pushes your legs off him, “That’s enough talking for you today.”

“No, no, I’m sorry! Don’t go!” You try to hold on to his hand and pull him back, but without much effort he frees himself from your grip and gets up from the couch.

“I’m gonna take a shower and if you behave I’ll consider coming back.” Iwaizumi walks towards the bathroom with a dismissive wave.

“That could actually happen, you know!” You call after him, but he ignores you and disappears into the bathroom, pushing the door closed behind him.

You lie back with a huff and fold your arms around your waist, forced to keep yourself warm.

note: despite what this piece suggests, iwa would absolutely help you if you if your tampon got stuck. anyway i can't decide if i hate it or not, but posting something is better than not posting at all. i hope you guys liked it!

[theraputicwritings]

Neck Kisses

I got this idea for a short blurp and inspiration struck. I know it’s been a good two years since I wrote anything, but I saw that Criminal Minds might be making more episodes and I felt the writing bug. This story starts off a little spicier than I typically write, but it’s not exactly sexual. However, it does have some undertones, so if you’re under 18 or uncomfortable with that, read at your own risk.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 1,025

Warnings: Canon typical violence, fluff, hospitals, neck kissing

What was it about neck kisses that made them feel so good? Was it the tingles that ran down your spine through to the soles of your feet with every kiss? Was it putting complete trust in someone with such a vulnerable part of you? Or was it the feeling of love and intimacy clouding your judgment so your following decisions were just the right amount of stupid? Scientifically it was because of the large number of nerve endings on your neck releasing endorphins and dopamine with every carefully placed kiss.

Whatever the reason for why neck kisses felt so good, you weren’t feeling any of them. But maybe that’s because no one was kissing your neck. Instead, someone was choking it. And fighting as hard as you could to get them to stop. Who’s idea was it to use you as bait to get the unsub to come out of hiding? Oh yeah, that was you. But to be fair, no one else was coming up with good ideas and it was the only way you could get the guy. And you also would like to point out that it wasn’t supposed to get this far. “In and out. No biggie,” you told your team at the BAU.

So you put on makeup and a little black dress, and now you were pinned to an alley wall being choked by this scumbag of a predator. Hopefully, the team would get there before you went unconscious. You’d taken enough self-defense classes to know not to let the dude overtake you completely, but he was much bigger than you and had thrown you off guard when he decided to punch you and throw you against a brick wall, just for good measure. On top of struggling to breathe, you were also seeing stars from a likely concussion.

“You know, when I saw you walk into the bar, I knew exactly who you were.” The unsub grinned as he paused in his attempt to strangle you. “Agent Y/L/N of the Behavior Analysis Unit. I saw you talking about me on the news last night. You described me so well but you got some details wrong. So I just had to call your little hotline. Make sure you got everything right about me.”

His eyes were bright with desire. He was a classic narcissistic sadist. He got off on causing you pain and was proud of it. He continued in his attempt to strangle me, not giving me a chance to respond.

“I knew I would be caught, but I couldn’t help myself from giving myself one last joy ride. I’m going to be famous. The Bar Strangler. You know, it doesn’t have much of a ring to it. Do you think they’ll let me come up with my own name during the trial?”

There wasn’t a cue for when my team was supposed to run it, but damn, if they didn’t have good timing. The black Suburbans squealed to a stop at the entrance of the alley and suddenly you were being blinded by bright lights.

“Let her go, Jenkins! It’s over!” Hotch yelled, pointing a gun at the unsub. Unceremoniously, you were dropped to the ground and started coughing as precious air filled your lungs. The next few seconds were a blur as Jenkins was placed in handcuffs and Spencer came running over to you.

You put your hand up to let him know you were okay, but he knew you better than that. He was your boyfriend after all. “You know, I told you this was a bad idea,” he quipped, helping you stand up.

“Yeah, but we got him, didn’t we?” you responded with a grin. Spencer shook his head and leaned in to kiss you.

Your kiss was cut off as Derek came over and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. “Alright, love bugs. Hotch wants to make sure you're medically cleared before we get back home. So that means Y/N, here, gets a lovely night in the emergency room.”

You pulled away from Spencer just enough so you could face Derek, but not too far so you could still use him for support. A groan came out your mouth, already knowing you weren’t going to be able to get out of this. That didn’t mean that you weren’t going to try.

“Do I have to? I already know what they’re going to say. ‘Well, Agent Y/L/N, you have a bruised trachea, a concussion, and some bruises to the face and neck. We’re going to prescribe you some pain meds, don’t use heavy machinery, and get plenty of rest and fluids.’” After your monologue, you looked to your boyfriend for the support you knew you weren’t going to get.

“The only way you can prove that’s what they’re going to say is by actually going. Come on, I’ll stay with you,” Spencer quipped before wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He gently steered you in the direction of the waiting ambulance.

Once the two of you arrived at the hospital, Hotch came by to give you a lecture about how your actions were foolish, blah, blah, blah. You were pretty used to the lecture. You’d only been with the BAU for two years and had already received that lecture at least five times. It was amazing how you hadn’t been put on probation or fired yet. But you were also really good at your job and that was probably why.

Once he was done, and the doctor told you exactly what you thought they were going to tell you, you scooted over so Spencer could sit on the bed behind you. Once he was situated, he wrapped his arms around you and gently pulled your back into his chest.

He carefully gathered up your hair and pulled it to the side so he could place kisses along the bruises on your neck. “I’m so glad, you’re okay.” You closed your eyes and leaned into him as exhaustion started to take over. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered against the skin of your bruised neck, causing a shiver to go down your spine.

[hxney-lemcn]

No One Like You — Hunter x gn! reader

Summery: Reader feels bad about what happened at Eclipse Lake, and decide to focus on helping Willow with her flyer derby team...only for Hunter to show up.

tw: Spoilers season 2 episode 13.

wc: 3.6k

Chapter Ten

Master List | Chapter One

“I just feel so bad,” I said, groaning lightly and putting my head in my hands. “I know I hurt his feelings by being so adamant that he didn’t get the portal key. But Belos is totally up to something nefarious and I didn’t want to chance it.” 

Amity looked down at her hands, “I suspected you two must have been close or something. After Eda described the trip to Latissa, I know Luz mentioned that you seemed close to the Golden Guard…” I felt myself flush. Just how many people did Luz tell? …Amity is her girlfriend though so it makes sense. “If I can ask…how did you two even become friends?”

I glanced up at Amity, she was looking at me curiously, no hint of judgment, so I decided to tell her, “Well we met at a book stand. And then I saw him again while out with some friends and he joined us. Then I met him in the forest and we had a sleepover, and the rest is history.” I explained shortly. Over 17k words explained in one sentence. “I didn’t know he was the Golden Guard until recently though.”

“Oh!” Amity exclaimed in surprise. “I didn’t expect it…to be so normal.”

I laughed lightly, rubbing the back of my neck, “Yeah, things have really flipped lately. And I have no form of communication with him unless he comes to see me, so now I’m left with my anxiety eating away at me.”

“He…was undercover when we found him,” Amity started, holding her chin in thought. “And he begged to come with us when Kikimora was on our tail…which must mean that he wasn’t supposed to be there.” 

“So I probably won’t see him for a while, huh?” I asked with a bitter smile. 

“Probably not,” She agreed. “There’s the club fair tomorrow, and I know you’re helping  Willow with starting her own flyer derby team. Maybe helping her out can take your mind off things.”

I nodded, standing up, “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just focus on helping Willow, maybe I’ll feel better. Thank you so much Amity, this really meant a lot.”

“Of course,” Amity waved me off, seeming slightly embarrassed. “That’s what friends are for right?”

“Right,” I agreed, waving at Amity as I left to go home for the night. 

~~~~

“Thanks for helping me (y/n),” Viney said gratefully. “Puddles has been on edge recently, and you’re her second best friend.” 

“Of course!” I smiled cheerfully. “I always love hanging out with animals, and Puddles is just adorable.”

We laughed slightly before Puddles suddenly screeched out. Turning to see what caused the disturbance, Viney already was trying to restrain the giant griffin.

“It's okay, Puddles,” She said in a calming voice. “No, he didn’t mean it.” 

I saw…Hunter…in a Hexside uniform? He stood shocked…stepping on Puddle's tail. He was just standing there like he didn’t know what to do. So I quickly yanked him off her tail and stood in front of him. 

“Puddles it's okay,” I said with a forced smile as the beak of the bird approached. “See, it’s just me, zizi (n/n).” 

Yet she didn’t listen and swatted me out of the way, the sound of Hunter yelling my name muffled by the shouts of kids who were in my path sounded in my ears. Groaning in slight pain, I quickly stood up and looked into the sky. Seeing Hunter being chased by Puddles, whistled out for Cinder.

“Calm down flea magnet!” Hunter shouted towards the griffin and I cringed, knowing that’s only making her angrier. Puddles ripped off his boot as he just nearly missed dodging her bite. He swooped down quickly, obtaining his boot back with impressive skill. I ran over to where they flew down only to see Puddles being held back by vines and Willow addressing Hunter.

I huffed, putting my hands on my knees from the run I just had. Barely listening to Hunter's screams as Willow dragged him down with vines.  

“This is Gus Porter,” Willow introduced, pointing out Gus. “This is (y/n) (l/n), and I’m Willow Park…” She held out her hand and shook his hand…kinda viciously not gonna lie. I stood up straight as she continued, “...future captain of Hexside’s first flyer derby team!” 

“Nice. To. Meet. You,” Hunter said spaced out, due to Willow’s aggressive handshake. 

“You’re flying was amazing!” Willow complimented. “You’re a new student right?”

I looked at Hunter in genuine interest at what he may say. He was wearing the school uniform, the potions track colors being what he chose…probably because he can’t do magic. But he doesn’t go to school either. 

“Yeah,” Gus spoke up, squinting at Hunter suspiciously. “Weird we’ve never seen you around. What’s your name?”

Hunter looked around, his eyes landing on his palismen, “Uhhhh, Caleb? Uh-Caleb! Uh, Jasper Bloodwilliams. I just transferred from…uh…toes?” He made it so obvious that it was all made up. I laughed behind my hand and Hunter glared at me. “But I’m not here to play fly dooby or whatever that is.”

“Okay,” Willow said dejectedly. “But at least take a pamphlet.” 

Hunter…or should I say Caleb, took the pamphlet and walked away solemnly. But suddenly he turned around and called out, “Wait! Do you really think your club will attract the best and the brightest?”

“Absolutely!” Willow exclaimed with determination. “Flyer derby is not for the faint witch.”

“Then maybe I’ll give it a try,” Hunter, grinning at Willow. I knew he was here for something to do with the coven, but I trusted him to not do anything to hurt my friends.

“Really?” Willow exclaimed.

“But, okay-” Hunter started. “How do we evaluate the others? A witches duel? A maze full of traps? Oh! Leave everyone at the top of the mountain and see who makes it back alive! Ah, classic.” Okay I take it back, is Hunter trying to murder all my friends? He seemed so excited at the thought of all those trials and I felt concerned while the others were weirded out.

“Uh, we might not have time for all that,” Willow said, patting his shoulder with a forced smile. “But you can help by attracting people with your sick skills.” 

Willow jogged away as Hunter muttered to himself, “I don’t feel sick.”

“It’s a slang term,” I whispered but he didn’t seem any less confused.

Gus then leaned in and stared at Hunter suspiciously, “Hey, I don’t know what kind of mission you’re on, but it’s been a tough year for Willow. And she’s really looking forward to making this team a thing. Don’t mess this up for her.” With that, Gus followed Willow.

“I don’t know why you’re at my school Hunter,” I spoke up finally. “And I won’t uncover your identity or anything. But what Gus said, this means a lot to Willow. So let’s make a good team, yeah?”

Hunter side eyed me and looked away, that hurt look still on his face. He turned his back to me and mumbled out a ‘yeah whatever’.

“Hunter, wait,” I stopped him, grabbing his wrist. “I’m sorry, okay. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I didn’t care about you back at Eclipse Lake.” He turned to look at me slightly at that. “I just…” I squeezed his wrist lightly. “That key meant a lot to Luz, and Belos…well the more we uncover about him the worse he looks. So the thought of him having something so important in his possession scares me. I…I do care about you Hunter. More than you could ever imagine.”

“Well there's one thing we have in common,” Hunter mumbled, his gaze not meeting my own. “We can’t stay mad at each other for long, huh.” Relief flooded my system as a smile broke onto my face. I felt so giddy, I decided to take a risk that I normally wouldn’t, and leaned up to kiss his cheek. 

He stared at me, and it honestly looked like he was short circuiting. I could almost see the steam blow from his ears as his blush was so prominent that it traveled down his neck. I let out a small chuckle and ran to where Willow and Gus went. Hunter quickly snapped back into reality, and chased after me. 

Cinder flew into my view and I grabbed her as she transformed into a staff. Quickly I passed by Willow and Gus as they were about to start their speech. I laughed as Hunter joined me in the building. I was out of breath and panting once more, exercise not being my strong suit. 

“Y-you can’t just do that!” Hunter whisper shouted. 

“Do what?” I asked, faking innocence. 

“Arrg,” He groaned out in frustration. “Y-you know exactly what!”

Willow started her speech, and as she got to the part in the script where we were supposed to fly out, I kissed Hunter on the cheek once more before darting out. Just for good measure ya know?

Hunter flew after me and I heard the kids below ‘ooo’ and ‘ahhh’ in entertainment. Hunter hopped off his staff, only to drop onto it and fly upwards again, giving the students a show. Hunter stopped as kids started to disperse, and I flew up next to him, only to overhear him saying something about Willow and the emperor’s coven. I felt my stomach drop, guessing exactly what Hunter’s mission was. To find new recruits. 

“Hey!” Willow shouted, gaining both of our attention. “Come on down!” We flew down, and I landed beside Willow as she continued, “Let me introduce you to the best and brightest at Hexside!”

“Look Puddles,” Viney spoke up, trying to calm Puddles down once more. “It’s the friend you made before. No, no! Don’t claw mommy’s face.” I quickly made my way towards her and helped her hold Puddles back. Glancing back I noticed Willow following Hunter who seemed uninterested once again. I shook my head in slight frustration, but decided it was probably for the best. But I felt anxious as I saw Willow drag Hunter under the ground. 

Willow motioned for us to follow her, and we made our way to the field. There Hunter stood, looking around in a defensive stance. 

Skara walked over to him and apologized about being on her scroll, and proceeded to explain that she was looking up strategies for our match. Puddles finally fell asleep, and I felt myself relax with relief at that. Viney was all scratched up, but healed herself quickly. Then suddenly Gus flew around us, landing in front of Hunter.

“I thought you couldn’t fly?” Hunter questioned. I walked closer to them and stood next to Gus. 

“So I can’t fly like everyone else,” Gus said, shrugging. “But my way’s more fun.”

“Oh,” Hunter replied. “That’s, uh, cool. I guess.”

“Oh, what was that?” Gus asked, pretending like he didn’t hear him.

“I said it was cool!” Hunter shouted, embarrassed.

“Gus is a natural speed demon,” Willow said, coming up from the ground, scaring Hunter. “Skara’s a strategic wizard, Viney’s the best healer in school, and (y/n)’s the one who helped with all the marketing. And at one point or another, we’ve all been misjudged. So, still think we’re pathetic?”

Hunter shook his head in embarrassment. 

“Good!” Willow exclaimed. “Now let's get our game faces on.” Willow passed around the green paint as we all did a pattern on our face. I did a green zig zag from the right side of my forehead to under my right eye. 

I glanced at Hunter only to see him confused, “Here, I can help.” He looked at me and nodded. “Did you have any pattern in mind?” I asked. He shook his head and I decided to have him match me. Taking some green paint, I started on the left side of his forehead and zigzagged down to his jaw. “There,” I smiled, looking at my work. “Now we match.” 

He looked surprised at that and looked away, his ears tinged pink, “I-I uh..I need to make a call…” I nodded as he walked away, making a crow call. I walked over to the others who were already ready in their uniforms. Changing into a green tunic and sport shorts. We then all lined up as the other team arrived. 

Oohhhh nooo, of course Jerbo is on the other team. I winced as Viney threatened him. We all hopped on our staffs and lined up, waiting for the whistle to blow.

“All we gotta do is fly high and snag some flags,” Willow said. We all nodded as Professor Hermonculus taunted Willow. 

The whistle blew and Professor Hermonculus shot abomination goo at us, only for Viney to quickly block it for us. With that, we all flew around. Hunter and Gus got our first score. Skara and Viney were out quickly, but Viney got Jerbo out as well. The other team had the upper hand as they kept shooting at us, but Hunter quickly got Professor Hermonculus out. 

Speaking of Hunter, he finally seemed to be happy. I smiled as he seemed to enjoy himself and bond with everyone on the team. It was really sweet. 

Anyways, I flew forward with Willow and Gus. Gus and I were behind Willow in a v formation. A member on the opposite team kept shooting goo at us, but Willow made them flinch as she summoned vines and managed to grab both team members' flags. But she got hit by goo from the ground and I quickly flew to catch her, instead she handed me the flags and she caught herself on a flower. Quickly I flew towards the spikes that held the flags as Hunter and Gus kept the others distracted. Landing on the ground, the entire team cheered and pulled each other in a group hug. 

“May I please have a team name?” Professor Hermonculus asked, displeased.

“Shoot,” Willow said, looking to the side. “We never thought of a name.”

“The Emerald Entrails!” Hunter exclaimed. “You know, because we’re green, and there’s more to us than you think.”

I brought Hunter into a side hug as we chanted, “Entrails, entrails!”

“Entrails team photo!” Willow exclaimed, taking out her scroll. “We’re number one!” Everyone squeezed in together as we posed for the photo. I rubbed my cheek on Hunter’s as the camera clicked. We all passed the scroll around to see the photo and ahhh! It was so cute!

Hunter was the last one to see it and said, “I can’t believe I almost bailed on you guys. Today was amazing! Thanks for giving me another shot.”

“Always nice making a new friend,” Viney replied back with a smile. “I had an opening for one.” She glared towards Jerbo.

“We wouldn’t have gotten here without you,” I chimed in with a soft grin. 

“Yeah,” Gus agreed. “I shouldn’t have been so suspicious.”

“We can forget all about that when we play next time,” Hunter said with a dismissive wave. “As a part of the Emperor’s coven!”

Oh right…With all the rush, I totally forgot why Hunter was here in the first place.

“What?” Gus exclaimed.

“My name isn’t Caleb,” Hunter shook his head. “It’s Hunter! And I’m the Emperor’s right hand man. The Golden Guard!” “You can’t be serious,” Willow said nervously. “You’re not the one Luz told us about, right?”

“He is,” I said looking to the side ashamed. “I should’ve said something.” 

Hunter changed into his Golden Guard uniform and said off handedly, “Yeah, this would usually look cooler with the cloak, but I don’t have it at the moment. Long story.”

“You’re seriously not going to force us to join, are you?” I questioned, my tone slightly hurt. “W-we’re still kids!” But I shut up when scouts surrounded us on all sides. 

“Whoah there, scouts,” Hunter said, his own surprise evident. “I didn’t give you orders to come here.”

“Darius sent us to collect your recruits,” The scout explained, crossing their arms.

“Ah, okay,” Hunter nodded, I could tell he seemed conflicted. “Very good. Then there won’t be any delay branding you with coven sigils and taking you away from your friends and family forever. Hooray!”

I felt dread once again, settling in the pit of my stomach as the situation sunk in. No, no no, I don’t want to be branded. And…and I still want to see my moms. 

“H-hunter please,” I cried out, tears pooling in my eyes but I refused to cry. “Think this through. I…you’re really gonna force your friends you just made to join something they don’t want to?”

He didn’t respond and just looked away as the scouts took us away. Skara punched the scout that tried to touch her, and I was going to fight back too before the scout on me tackled me. They confiscated our staffs and put us in a cell because of that. I just felt shocked, I couldn’t…after all this time that I knew Hunter, I never thought he’d go this far. And for what? New recruits? Did the Emperor's coven really need new recruits that badly? I sat in the corner, just staring at the wall.

“Okay, listen,” Hunter said, putting our tied up staffs in the corner. “I’m sorry about the whole cell thing, but did you really have to punch Steve, Skara?”

“I get it,” The scout waved off. “Emotions are running high. Ice pack for Steve.”

“Well I don’t get it,” Hunter said, slightly frustrated. “You’re joining the best coven there is! You can keep all your magic, you get free food and board, you can even play flyer derby on your day off! Well, this year’s day has already passed, but next year’s is only 52 weeks away!”

“We don’t care!” Skara shouted. “None of us want this!”

“You will eventually,” Hunter said leaning down in front of the bars. “Trust me, I’m your friend now.”

“Friends don’t stab each other in the back,” Gus countered. 

“Sure they do,” Hunter said matter of factly. “The coven heads do it all the time back at the castle. (Y/n), you’re on my side right?”

I felt tears pool once more, “I want to go home. I want to see my moms. I want..” I harshly closed my eyes and grabbed fistfuls of my hair to try and ground myself. “Please Hunter,” I pleaded once more. “Please just let us go.”

Suddenly, abomination goop wrapped around us all and we were transported onto a ship. Looking up in fear, there stood…the abomination coven head?

“Darius!” I heard Hunter shout from below. “I did it! I found recruits!”

“Yep,” Darius sighed, sounding tired. “And you’re making me work on my day off. Take this and quit bugging me.” I watched as a cloak was sent down. 

“I can wear this proudly now, right?” Hunter asked, asking for approval.

“Can you?” Darius replied back, judgment lacing his tone. “See you at the castle, Golden Guard.”

Then the ship flew off. We all looked at each other, determination to escape being prominent. We all tried to use our magic to get our palismen back, but Darius just bordly stopped each of our attempts. 

“You’re gonna need to be a little more clever than that,” Darius spoke, walking up to us. 

“Darius!” Hunter exclaimed, teleporting onto the ship.

“Now!” Willow shouted and we hopped off the side of the ship. Effectively making Darius and Hunter watch as…you guessed it, our illusions disappeared. 

“An illusion?” Darius gasped as the looked up to see us on the beam.

“Land the ship!” Willow exclaimed. We hopped onto the abomination, squishing it, and Viney pulled a lever with no hesitation. 

Quickly we all grabbed our palismen and ran onto the beach the ship crashed onto. We were then blocked by an abomination which blocked our path.

“Did you really think you could get away with endangering a coven head?” Darius asked incredulously, slowly walking out of the ship. “Do you have any idea what I’m capable of?” 

He turned his arm into a scythe and Willow shot vines at him, which he easily cut through. Stepping beside her, I casted my own spell, summoning fire bees to attack, only for them to crash into a wall of abomination goo. Willow tried to protect us by surrounding us with vines, but Darius cut those too. Willow and I stood in front of the others as Darius raised the scythe.

“Wait!” Hunter shouted, stepping in front of all of us. 

“Out of my way little prince,” Darius said with a glare. 

“No!” He retaliated. “I was mistaken. These five are insolent agitators who aren’t fit for the Emperor’s coven. And I’m unfit to wear the sigil of the Golden Guard.” Hunter dropped his cloak and…I’m sorry but that sewing job is terrible. Turning to us, he whispered, “You can go.”

“Let’s move team,” Willow said, tears in the corner of her eyes. “We need to find a replacement. After all, it’ll be 52 weeks before Caleb's next day off.” 

I smiled softly at that as they started to walk off. I quickly sprinted towards Hunter and gave him a quick hug before running off to the others. 

“Did he make an account?” I asked with wide eyes. 

“Wow, he is a slow typer,” Willow stated. 

“He’s worse than my dad,” Gus laughed. 

“Oh,” Willow perked up. “Hey guys!”

Looking up from Willow’s scroll, Amity and Luz stood across from us. 

“I’m really digging those outfits,” Luz said pointing at us. “So, how was the rest of school? Did we miss anything?”

“Just had our first team win as the Emerald Entrails,” Willow said, flipping her hair. We all posed after she said that to hit the message home. 

“Oh!” Luz exclaimed. “Let me see, let me see!” 

Willow showed the team photo. Amity and Luz shouted a ‘what’ as they saw Hunter. I let out a laugh at their reaction 

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[ms-starflower]

Young Survivors — Maribat

It’s almost four am here, I just finished writing this and am just tired enough to actually go through and post it. And this title is the only thing my tired brain could come up with. Anyway. I haven't posted something I wrote in years, but all the Maribat I’ve read recently made me want to write something for it.

I don’t know if I’m ever going to write a 2 part, but if I do it’s definitely going to be Timari and contain a couple of typical Maribat tropes. And a pinch of salt.

Also, disclaimer: I haven't watched Miraculous in years and most of my DC knowlege come from fanfic or tumblr so... sorry not sorry.

Now with a part 2!

Next >

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei Leyton’s oldest memories were of her mother, dolled up in pretty dresses and elegant makeup. In her daughter‘s eyes, Margaret Leyton was the most beautiful woman on earth.

For as long as she could remember, Mei would sit on the bed and watch as her mom would get ready to head to work. She had always loved those moments with her mom.

(How do I look, my little flower,” she said, twirling around Mei with a grin, making her laugh. It was Margaret’s favorite dress, a vintage halter blue dress with white accents and a white bow around the waist.

“Like a princess, mommy! The prettiest princess ever!”

“Oh no, no no no. You are the prettiest princess ever, my little flower.”)

She was four when her mother let her help for the first time, letting her pass along brushes and products. It’s then that she understood what were the purple marks on her mother that she covered with her makeup.

(“Life is not fair to us, my little flower,” she had said when Mei asked about it for the first time. “Being an orphan and pretty little girl in Gotham isn’t safe, and it doesn’t give much choice when it comes to survival.”

Mei didn’t understand then, but it didn’t matter anyway, life would make her understand soon enough.)

When Mei was seven, the GCPD found her mother’s body.

When she didn’t see her that morning, Mei hadn’t been worried; it wasn’t the first time. Mom would be home by noon, she always was. Until that day.

(The investigation wouldn’t get very far, it was just another prostitute of Camellia street, nobody cared about them. They were just there until they weren’t anymore.

Another girl would take her place in a couple of days. It was how those kinds of things worked in Gotham.)

That day was kind of blurry in her memory. She remembers being pulled out of class in the morning, and that the cop that told her about her mother’s death was very rude.

(“Your mom is dead, kid. A lad found her body in a dumpster this morning,” the guy had said as soon as she had sat down in the headmistress’ office. “Do you know who she worked for? Or on what side of the Camellia she stayed?” He had asked, halfheartedly.

Mei had shaken her head, even though she did; you don’t talk to cops in Gotham, mom always says said that it was the easiest way to get yourself killed, for people like them.

“Alright,” he had said, not surprised. “A social worker is going to pick you up in a bit to take you to your new home, kid.”

With that he had walked out of the office, not looking back. As if where she would end up was going to be home.)

She remembers that the social worker from CPS was a brunette with tan skin, and looked really overworked, but had a kind smile.

By the end of the day, she was taken to Elliot's Hall for Children, an overcrowded, understaffed orphanage with more kids than they could realistically care for.

(They don’t care for the children, they just put them there for a while and act as they do. Most children leave after a couple of days, and if they don’t, they get taken anyway.

Some come back with a police escort, some manage to survive in the streets, and nobody talks about the ones that are never seen again.

You don’t work there because you love children, and if you do, you don’t last for very long.)

Mei wasn’t stupid, her mother told her stories about those kinds of places. She came from those kinds of places, and Mei saw how the man in charge here had looked at her when the social worker dropped her off.

She wasn’t going to just stand here and wait for him to sell her back in Camellia street. Or worse, to the Candy Dealers.

Taking with her what she absolutely couldn’t leave behind, Mei made a choice her mother hadn’t been able to and took her chance with the streets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei was a Camellia kid and, as such, took to the streets easier than most newcomers. She had picked up a few tricks from her aunties and her mom, and it helped her to survive out here.

The only (glaring) differences were the absence of her mother, the lack of a permanent roof above her head, and the fact that she had to provide food and money herself now.

(One of her favorite places to pick up wallets was Gotham Academy, where Gotham’s rich send their children. The kids always had money on them, and it’s not like they would miss it.

Though she couldn’t go too many times in a row, not without risking being spotted and remembered.)

She had been on the streets for two months when she met Jason Todd; the boy who would become her family.

She heard him before she saw him, to be honest. It was an awful crashing noise coming from around the corner, and it made her look.

He was running like the devil was after him, and judging by how the cops running behind him were clutching their batons, she wasn’t that far from the truth.

The noises were because of a couple of trash cans the boy had spilled in their way to slow them down.

And he was coming her way.

Against her better judgment, she grabbed his arm when he passed in front of her, and pulled him behind her into her hideout. Quickly getting the plank of wood back in place, she put her hand on his mouth before he could say anything. With the dumpster in the alley, the entry was almost invisible from outside.

They stayed there as they heard the men pass in front of their hiding place, listening as they argued about where the boy could have disappeared before their voices faded completely.

They waited another couple of minutes before he removed the hand she still had on his mouth and crawled out of there.

“Thanks,” he muttered with a scowl. “I woulda’ve been just fine without help but… yeah, anyway.” Then he had started to walk in the direction he came from.

“Hey! Wait!” She said before she could think about it. “Are ya just gonna, like, go? Just like that?”

“Huh, yeah? What do ya want me to do?” He asked, looking back at her from above his shoulder without stopping his walk. “Stay to drink a cup of tea and talk about the weather?”

“Well.. no. But I just… I just wanna talk a bit, ya know?” She couldn’t really explain why she didn’t want him to leave yet, it’s not like he was the first street kid she had helped out. He just felt different, and somehow she knew he could become important to her.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before turning his head back to look forward. “The streets are not some daycare for princesses who want to make friends, kid.”

“Kid— hey, dumbass, you’re, like, ten years old! You’re a kid too! And I’m not a princess, I can survive alone just fine!” Before she knew it, she was walking behind him, the weird feeling forgotten for the offence his comment created. He looked back at her with a frown, before choosing to ignore her. Not letting that deter her, she rambled at him about all the ways why she wasn’t a kid any more than him.

“I thought you could survive alone?” He said, talking over her, when he realized that she wasn’t going to let him be.

“I can.”

“So why are ya following me? Tryin’ to drive me crazy?”

“Well, no. It’s just... that I can do it doesn't mean I want to.”

“Look, kid,” he said, ignoring her protest and talking over her, again. “You should just go back to whatever orphanage you came from, there is probably some nice little family who's gonna pick you up. Then you could make all the friends you want.”

“Like people actually adopt kids in this city. This is Gotham, you dummy, not ‘Annie’. Some rich white guy isn’t going to come and pick up children from the streets to make them live the Grand life.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he growled out without pausing in his steps. “Still, you’re pretty enough, I’m sure some nice people would adopt you in a second if you let them.”

“Yeah, sure. Mom thought the same when she was a kid, and guess what? She started working on Camellia street when she was fourteen, but nobody asked her if she wanted to. Because she was pretty enough,” the little seven years old spat with venom, her eyes narrowed. The boy stopped walking, turning toward her with eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. “Her best friend wasn’t, but mom said that she had the prettiest green eyes ever. When they found her body, she didn’t have eyes anymore, because some rich person paid to have pretty green eyes.”

“I— I didn’t—” he stuttered, eyes wide. With his scowl gone he looked so much younger, and Mei’s anger subdued. He wasn’t that much older than her, just a couple of years, maybe three or four, after all.

“It’s… okay, I guess. It’s Gotham. I just thought we both would have more chances to survive if we helped each other out. And, ya know, the company wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, but when they resumed walking he slowed down enough to let her walk beside him without almost-running.

“Great! So, Annie, where are we going now?” She said with a beaming smile, bursting into laughter at his indignation and protest against the nickname.

(“Can’t you stop calling me Annie already?! I told you my name’s Jason!”

“Nope, Annie.”

“Well, then, that makes you Sandy, doesn't it? Ya do follow me around like a stray puppy.”

“I’m not a dog— wait, hold on a minute! I knew you saw the movie! You liar!”)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was ten when her life was put upside down once again, in the worst of ways.

It took practically no time before Jason “Annie” Todd became her brother in all but blood, it took longer for Jason to admit it, and they spend almost three years surviving together, barring the occasional trip back to the Children's Houses.

Though, they always found each other a couple of days after they escaped from those places.

Sometimes, Jason would plan something that he needed to do alone. Because of course, he did.

(“It’s the best job, my plan is perfect. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be great Sandy!”

“Yeah, and why can’t I come?”

“It’s too dangerous! Plus, you need to stay here and keep our things safe!”

“Yeah, if you say so, Annie.”)

That day was one of those days.

He was gone for less than an hour when they found her.

The Candy Dealers.

Mei paled when she saw them, wearing their nice suits and overly sweet smile. They told her they were social workers, specializing in homeless children, and offered her a lollipop. Social workers in Gotham don’t give candy to the kids, even the nice ones, and she knew from her time in Camellia street that the lollipop was drugged.

(“Never, ever, take candy from a Candy Dealer, Mei. Do you understand me? Never,” her mother told her gravely. “They put bad stuff in them, and if you put it in your mouth, they will take you away from me. I couldn’t live without you in my life, my little flower.”)

She tried to run, even before the first one got his hand totally outstretched toward her. But her panic made her stumble, and she was no match for them.

She tried to kick, and scream, and bite, but soon she felt a pinch in her neck, and everything was black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next period of her life was one she tried very hard to forget. For months she was moved, her and dozens of other people, from containers to containers, warehouse to warehouse. Twice they were put in a boat, the containers staying closed for so long, the next time she saw the moonlight, it burned her eyes.

She quickly learned that it was pointless to try to escape (and that Jason wouldn’t come and save her).

Then, one night, the place they were at was illuminated with blue and red lights and the police sirens were so loud, they drowned everything else.

She didn’t let herself hope, though. (She did, she hoped so hard her chest hurt.)

They (probably) weren’t in Gotham anymore, but her childhood didn’t instill her much trust in the police.

They did get them out. And she learned that they were in Paris now. In France. (That was a long way from Gotham.)

There were twenty-seven other people with her in the container. Four of which were kids, and only one other was also an orphan. They weren’t placed together, though. Because the kid had family back where he came from. Unlike her. (She had Jason. He was her family, but they didn’t listen.)

The French social workers took a while to know what to do with her exactly, but they didn’t want to send her back to Gotham (why not? She wanted to go back and find Jason!). So, in the meantime, they placed her in a foster family—one without any other kid, as per her therapist's advice. (The therapist didn’t know anything. She said Gotham wasn’t good for her, but Jason was in Gotham.)

Funnily enough, it ended up being a more permanent solution than previously considered, because the foster parents, Tom and Sabine, quickly fell in love with the little girl.

Not before long, Mei Leyton became Marinette Dupain-Cheng. (They changed her name to give her a ‘new beginning’ because her therapist thought it would be good for her. She didn’t want to have a ‘new beginning', she wanted to go back, to find Jason, to be the Sandy to his Annie. She was Mei, the Camellia’s kid, Sandy, the street’s kid and it was enough for her. She didn’t want to be Marinette, the bakers’ kid.)

So, when Mei was first put into the care of the Dupain-Cheng household, she regularly tried to run away. It was unsurprisingly harder than in Gotham, though. Tom and Sabine were way more attentive than Elliot Hall’s staff ever was, and more than a third of her tentatives were folded even before she was past the front door.

It took her three months (and forty-three unsuccessful tentatives) before she finally accepted that there would be no way for her to go back to Gotham. (Not that she had known how she would manage to do that before, her plan never got that far.) It took another six months before Tom and Sabine trusted her enough to let her wander the neighborhood alone.

The first thing she did the day her ‘new parents’ let her go to the library alone was to get to a public computer, and look Jason up. She didn’t really think she would find anything when she typed Jason Todd and Gotham in Google that day (maybe an obituary). She definitely didn't think she would find her best friend (brother) on the covers of so many tabloids declaring that he was Bruce Wayne’s ward.

She didn’t know how she should feel about the fact that he proved her wrong and became some real-life Annie. She wanted to feel angry, or hurt. Even more so when she realised that Wayne adopted him not even a full week after her (kidnapping) departure from Gotham, but…

But seeing Jason in the pictures… He looked so angry. Angrier than she ever saw him. And hurt. There was hurt hidden in his expression. It was well hidden but she could see it. (She did that, she was the one that hurted him. He probably thought she left him. That she wasn’t any better than his deadbeat of a father and abandoned him. What if he hates her now, because she was gone for so long?)

She needed to go back to Gotham, find him, and explain everything. She needed to tell him she didn’t want to leave him behind, that he was her family, and that it would never change. But Tom and Sabine didn’t want to take her back there, not before she was older, because she wasn’t ready yet, they said.

She didn’t care, though. No matter how long it would take her, she was going to go back. So, she slowly started to act like the perfect little girl. She didn’t really change, she just stopped bringing up Gotham so much, started to help more often in the house and at the bakery, and started to call Tom and Sabine Papa and Maman. (It wasn’t real, at first. But then, they just crawled into her heart against her will and became family. They didn’t replace her Mom or Jason, though. Nobody ever will.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She started to heal. Slowly, without even realising. She opened up to a couple of children at her school, made friends with Nino, and sort of Frenemies (more enemy than friend, though) with Chloé Bourgeois. She picked up hobbies like sewing and designing, baking with Tom, or learning various martial arts with Sabine.

But she didn’t forget, going back to Gotham was still her ultimate goal. Until the news reached her, when she was twelve.

Jason Todd was dead.

Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood, her Annie. Dead. Jason was dead.

She felt like a part of her died with him, reading the words but not really processing. She let herself drown in her grief, closing up to everyone around her. Surprisingly, Chloé was the one that made her react. Literally slapping her to make her come back from the dead. (Not entirely, though. Mei, the Gothamite part of her, stayed dead with Jason. Only Marinette, the nice little parisian, came back.)

“I don’t really know what’s up with you, Dupain-Cheng,” she had said while Marinette cradled her sore cheek, her faux-contempt badly hiding her worry. “But you need to put yourself together. Tormenting you is no fun if you don’t react to it, and people are too worried for you to be afraid of me. Don’t make me call daddy on you.”

“I…” She had started, only to stop herself. She had looked back at Nino and Kim, both of whom were looking at her with poorly concealed worry. “Yeah, sorry Chloé.”

She pulled herself out of the worst of it after that, at the obvious relief of the people around her. None of which even knew why she was in this state. She still cried herself to sleep most nights, and sometimes felt like someone gouged out her heart with their bare hands, but she also started to let herself think of the good times. Started to let herself feel the good things happening around her, in the present.

Then, she saved the life of an old man, found magic earrings and a bug-mouse-kwami in her room that told her that she needed to become a hero and save Paris.

She thought of her big brother, of how he would always protect her when someone tried to rob them. Hide her, before even thinking of himself, when the cops would chase them down, trying to bring them back to Elliot's Hall. Give her all the food when they couldn’t get enough for the both of them. How he was a hero. Her Hero. And, really, there was only one thing she could say to that.

“Tikki, spots on!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

So. That's it. That was fun. I'm going to sleep now, goodnight.

Btw, Jason's super plan that day was totaly to steal the Batmobile's tires.

[astaroth1357]

How about the brothers + diavolo reacting to an mc that smokes cigarettes, but only when stressed out? I hope this ask doesn't make you feel uncomfortable. 🙂

So this is interesting for me because I'm actually an asthmatic and cigarette smoke is one of my triggers. Naturally, that means I'm not the biggest fan of smoking (because I like breathing air) but I'm going to try not to turn this into a straight PSA. I assume if you smoke, you already know what's up and if you don’t, you're probably not considering it and leave things at that. I imagine what you want is the characters' perspectives and not mine, so I'll do my best to give that to you here. I hope you like it!

An MC Who's a Stress Smoker

Lucifer

Not the biggest fan of their habit, but mostly due to smell. Actually needing that bit of stress relief - he totally gets.

After he found out that they smoke he set a lot of ground rules: "No smoking in the House; No smoking at RAD; No smoking in uniform" yadi-yadi-yada… but he never straight up banned them from doing it.

If he catches the MC out smoking, he'll usually keep his distance until they've finished (and ideally changed clothes) before calling them in to ask what's wrong.

If they can't keep to the rules, that's when he's going to start having a problem. Cigarette/cigar smoke gives him a headache and he really can’t tolerate it for long…

If they start smoking in places they're not supposed to, then he will try to ban them cold turkey so better stay mindful about it. It wouldn’t take many slip ups unfortunately…

 

Mammon

Yeah… I know some people HC that Mammon smokes too. I wouldn't go that far, but I'll say he's most likely done it before.

Mammon picked up smoking for a century or so from his trips to the human world (humans freaking loved tobacco for some reason) but eventually stopped because the smell annoyed Lucifer and it has some weird effects on Diavolo…

When he caught the MC smoking on their balcony the first time, he was a little surprised because he didn't peg them for the type, but throwing stones in glass houses and all that… Who is he to judge?

Mammon actually likes to stick around during their outdoor smoke sessions. It's a pretty relaxing, dare say intimate, affair. He'll grab a cigarette himself and just let them vent about whatever's bothering them. Zero judgment about it all.

He will warn the MC about Lucifer’s dislike of the smell though… They have to be careful or he'll start getting on their case, you know?

Leviathan 

Smoking is fairly common among badass characters in anime so it's not like he has a super negative image of it to start with, anyway. 🤷‍♀️

Surprisingly understanding of their coping mechanism, I mean, this man has made a life out of his own.

If he sees that they’re out smoking he may pop out to go ask what's up. He won't be much bothered by the smoke unless they blow it right in his face or something (which is a little rude anyway).

Will be a little disappointed that the MC only does it to calm down and they're not actually some kind of secret badass (or maybe they are, I dunno) but he gets the need to have some kind of grounding more than most.

Isn't nearly as bothered by the smell as Lucifer, but not about to jump in and join them like Mammon… He's pretty down the middle about it.

 

Satan

Though he can't fault them for looking for relief, he's done enough research into human health that he really can’t condone this method…

Satan, bless his black soul, is going to be the nag of the family. He will bring up how unhealthy smoking is and he will urge them to try and find a different habit.

To be fair, he did the same to Mammon too - but to a lesser extent because demon bodies can cope with the toxins a lot better. Since the MC is human, he feels a lot of urgency… it comes from a good place.

The MC should expect to have to hide from Satan if they’re out smoking because he will crash their de-stressing with a mini-lecture. He won't go as far as to take the cigarette from their hands, but he will ask them to put it out.

He's not blind to their feelings, though. If they’re smoking, he'll ask what's wrong and how he can help so they can just stop for the night. If they do want to quit, then he's more than willing to support them through the transition. He won't leave them high and dry, but he will make his thoughts known. Be aware of that.

 

Asmodeus 

Uh, don't they know what smoking does to your skin? Your teeth?? Oh no, honey, you gotta try something else!

Yeah like Satan, Asmo isn't a huge fan but unlike Satan he's mostly worried about the physical damages alone. Poor guy can't understand why someone would actively do something with those negative effects when there are much healthier options!

He will pretty much be on a mission to give them other stress relief outlets like massages, bathes, music, meditation, or whatever else he can think of. He'll keep throwing stuff at a wall until it sticks. 🤷‍♀️

Again, it comes from a good place (albeit a somewhat more shallow one) but he cares deeply about them and always wants them to always look their best.

Unfortunately, Asmo's not even coming near them if he sees them smoking. He knows secondhand is a thing and he wouldn’t risk it, but he may call them or text them while they're out there to see what's wrong.

 

Beelzebub 

Beel's pretty easygoing one way or another so I see him accepting the MC's choice with little judgment. Their life and all.

Being an athlete, I also can imagine he may have a bit of knowledge about why it's not good for you but he won’t hammer it in like Satan. He might remind them once or twice if they start coughing because he worries… but that’s about it.

If there's anything he's going to be sad about, though, it's if their smoking habit starts to diminish their sense of taste… There’s so many foods he wants to share with them, he hopes they can enjoy it all… 😥

If Beel sees them out smoking, he'll pull a Levi and just come out to see what's wrong. He may not stay long because he doesn’t want to breathe in too much secondhand (still an athlete and all) but he'll still check in on them… Such a sweet guy.

 

Belphegor 

The smell did take some getting used to, but he used to nap around Mammon all the time so it's not like it's unfamiliar. He can adapt.

Really can't give two shits on whether or not their habit is healthy for them. In the long term, that may bite him in the ass, but that’s also kind of Sloth's whole deal so…

More or less would treat them the exact same way, smoking or not, because that doesn't much affect him or his chances to cuddle them.

If there's anything that is going to bother him, it might be coughing when he's trying to sleep... But that won't be a serious concern unless it gets BAD.

If Belphie sees them out smoking, he'll ask what's wrong… but also if they want to just come inside and sleep the problem off. He's trying to help… in his own way. 🤷‍♀️

 

Diavolo 

Daddy Devil smoked and you can't convince me otherwise.

The smell of cigarettes and cigars kind of give Diavolo a knee-jerk familiar reaction - like when you smell a food or soap that you associate with your childhood. It may not be a good smell or one you even like, but you're drawn to it anyway for the memories.

Doesn't matter how many times the MC has changed clothes or how long they scrub their body for, he can still smell it on them and it's like hitting a lightswitch in his brain - he knows that smell and it's oddly comforting…

Diavolo is going to hover around them a lot. Expect a lot of hugs or just standing a bit too close so he can get a good whiff. Lucifer is going to be utterly confused by his actions but Barbs knows what's up.

The MC is strictly forbidden by Lucifer to smoke anywhere near Diavolo, but that’s hardly going to matter. He can pick up when they've done it recently and he'll ask what's wrong… probably while hugging them because he's looking for that comfort too.

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (9)

(c!technoblade x fem!reader)

(so people showed they liked chapter 8 well enough so I wrote chapter 9! also how miffed would everyone be if... this was also maybe a dreamxd x reader fic? like idk i’m just having some persuasive thoughts. also don’t forget to show this chapter some love or I won’t have the motivation to do chapter 10! reblogs and comments are the best! <3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wilbur did not like this ‘Reader’ person. God she was just as bad as Quackity, coming into L’manberg and making demands and acting like they even HAD a say in HIS country. Now more than ever he wished he’d have just exiled Quackity instead of humoring him with this ridiculous election. There shouldn’t BE an election. HE was the rightful president of this country! He fought and died for this country. Put his blood, sweat, and tears into it! HIM! Not them! 

“-ur?”

This whole election thing was a mistake. He should have just listened to his gut.

“ilbur?”

But he’d been pressured by everyone to ‘be fair’ or whatever. Nobody knew what was best for L’manberg but HIM. 

“Wilbur!”

The curly brunet jolted a bit at the sudden shout to his left, he blinked and felt himself unfurrow his eyebrows before looking over at his vice president. Said teenager was looking at him curiously, eyebrows raised in a questioning way. No doubt wondering what his friend was doing just standing there silently and chewing on his thumbnail like a madman. He was still tense but gave a quick ‘sorry’ before saying he was just lost in thought.

Tommy gave a semi awkward laugh and joked that it looked like he was trying to catch the wall he was staring at on fire just by staring at it. Wilbur gave a polite chuckle at the younger man’s attempt at mood lightening humor before sobering instantly and saying in a deadly serious tone that had the blond stiffening up anxiously,

“I don’t like this ‘Reader’ person you’ve been hanging out with Tommy. She seems really judgmental and arrogant. Not to mention her attitude. She’s argumentative and childish. She very clearly doesn’t care about you or L’manberg.”

That last part hit Tommy right in the chest like the blow from a size 12 boot. How could Wibur say that? You did care! You did! You wouldn’t have-.. People who don’t care wouldn’t-.. 

Tommy’s hurt showed on his face, making Wilbur sigh in sympathy before clapping the younger boy on the shoulder and saying that it would be best for him to just focus on the L’manberg election. This Reader person was just serving as a distraction from Tommy’s job as vice president anyways. And Tommy didn’t want that, right? Wilbur had entrusted him to be his VP over everyone else. He couldn’t slack on that, right? Tommy just gave a mumbled ‘yeah, s’pose not’ but it was clear he didn’t have his heart in it, though that was all the affirmation Wilbur needed to think the conversation was over..

-0-

You sat in the audience with Tubbo and Fundy for a bit while the candidates talked to each other up on the stage. Fundy seemed sweet, if not a bit mischievous. Though you supposed that should be expected from a fox hybrid. You smiled when his ears went back after you asked why his uniform was a lighter color than the others, unable to not think he looked adorable. But when he huffed, pretty obviously upset but trying not to show it, you frowned. And you pursed your lips when he explained that it was in ‘baby colors’ because Wilbur thought it would be cute for his ‘little champion’ to have a different uniform compared to everyone else.

You couldn’t help but awkwardly ask, “Aren’t you an adult though?” To which Fundy gave a slightly loud and exasperated, “YES!” that made you feel sorry for the poor hybrid. You gave him a reassuring look and said that well if he didn’t like the uniform then he didn’t have to wear it. Or if he liked it save for the color then just dye it darker to match the others. Fundy looked a bit put out and replied that he’d thought about dying it or just not wearing it but then his dad would be all depressed and hurt. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and say that he shouldn’t set himself on fire to keep others warm.

“You don’t have to do whatever your dad wants you to just because he’s your dad or cuz he’ll be sad. You’re an adult now Fundy. It’s time you make decisions for yourself in mind, not your dad.”

Fundy started up at you with wide eyes, like he’d never heard anyone tell him that before. Which was worrying but you put it out of your mind before continuing,

“Caring about others is important, yes. But you can’t let yourself be miserable just to avoid maybe making your dad sorta bummed out. That doesn’t seem fair to you.”

Tubbo chimed in from his spot to your left and said that the uniform was a symbol of their independence from the Dream Smp, they wore it to show they were loyal to L’manberg. He didn’t say it accusingly or even angrily, just in a factual matter-of-fact way. You said that might be true but then asked why Fundy’s uniform was different? Shouldn’t they all look the same if they supposedly stood for the same thing? If they’re meant to have a deeper meaning then they shouldn’t be altered for a joke. You said he had to see how that would make Fundy feel left out. You asked how Tubbo would feel if he were the only one with a different uniform and stood out. The brunet boy’s goatish ears drooped and he mumbled that he’d be sad. You ruffled his hair and turned back to Fundy.

“Look Fundy, if you wanna keep wearing the uniform as it is, that’s fine. If you wanna wear it but only after altering the color, that’s also fine. But if you wanna drop the uniform altogether then that’s fine too. It’s up to you, Fundy.”

Fundy looked contemplative, like he’d never thought he’d had a choice in the matter. But here he was with three whole options thanks to you. He honestly wasn’t sure which one he’d end up choosing, he had a lot to think about. But he gave you a grateful little smile and soft ‘thanks’ that made the corners of your lips quirk up. Though your chat soon came to an end when Fundy saw Niki approaching. He and Tubbo waved happily to her and gestured for her to come over. She stared up at you with mostly hidden surprise and said hello before Fundy introduced you both. Niki looked almost shy as she gave a short wave up to you. You chuckled and greeted her warmly and said you liked her uniform, pointing out hers was a different color than the others, like Fundy’s. She looked down at her blue version of the L’manberg uniform and flashed a grin and said,

“Yeah, I just liked the lighter blues better than the bright red and navy.”

You brightened and gently tapped Fundy’s shoulder with the back of your hand and cheerfully pointed out that if Niki could choose to alter her uniform from the original she was given then he should be able to do the same no problem. His ears twitched happily and he grinned, showing off his canines and nodding. This led Niki to asking him what you meant and him explaining he wasn’t happy with how his uniform was dyed. She agreed with you, if he wasn’t happy then he should change the color. But she joked that he should avoid any bright greens… Fundy let out a bark of laughter before Niki gasped and pointed out they, as in she and Fundy, had to go get ready. Tubbo raised an eyebrow and asked if they were still planning on running in the election. Fundy sighed and said yes, like he’d been giving that same answer repeatedly. He probably had been, sadly.. 

“Oh, you’re both running for president and vice president?” You asked good naturedly. 

Fundy nodded, waiting for you to give some kind of remark about him running, or how it was against his dad, or something else. But instead you just flashed him an encouraging smile and wished him and Niki good luck. You glanced at the fox hybrid and the blonde next to him before nodding and commenting that they both looked smart, with good heads on their shoulders. You thought they’d do just fine. Fundy’s tail was wagging from the genuine encouragement, making Niki giggle a little. The two did actually have to go get ready, so you and Tubbo said good luck and waved them off before chatting about this and that. The election speeches would be starting soon..

-0-

He was watching her again. 

He couldn’t help it. He’d started watching her just to ensure she wasn’t going to pose a threat to the server, but the more he watched her the more he started to actually enjoy it. She was like him and Drista, maybe not exactly, but more than anyone else on the server. But at the same time she was so incredibly different. Seeing her interact with villagers and mobs and now players was intriguing. She was so much more powerful than all of them combined, but she had no trouble blending in like she was just another player. End sake, most of them even seemed to gravitate towards her!

The only other time he’d seen a deity blend in so well with mortals was… Dream. But he tried not to think about that too much.

His currently invisible form phased through the building he’d been lurking beside, going up until he had a better view of the seats in the audience by the stage. He watched her and the small hybrid boy she’d endeared herself to bid a fox hybrid and blonde girl goodbye before taking their seats. He watched her sit and talk happily with the brown haired boy so easily. He wanted to learn to do that. It may be foolish but he wants to be like her. Happy, open, accepted, loved. He’s powerful, yes. He’s the most powerful being on this server without a doubt. But… it gets lonely. Sure Drista is around sometimes but she sleeps so often, preferring her dream world more than the waking one. And Dream… well that’s complicated. 

His brother and him have a… tense relationship after the whole ‘falling from grace’ debacle that happened so long ago. Dream barely speaks to him anymore. Actually the last time they’d spoken face to face was after that silly little war Dream had been in not too long ago. He’d told him that he just wanted to sleep afterwards. At the time he didn’t bother to involve himself in the daily lives of the server’s players like Dream did so he wasn’t exactly sure of the intricacies of the whole ‘disagreement’ that led to the fighting. But according to Dream some players wanted to govern themselves because drugs? It all sounded utterly stupid to him so he just sort of didn’t absorb any of the details Dream was complaining about. To him it seemed like the more involved with the players Dream got the more stressed out and tired he became. Though he hadn’t spoken to Dream since their last talk when Dream had vented about all of this. 

‘Perhaps I should visit my brother soon,’ the floating entity thought with a hum before he faded from the realm, drifting back to the End.

-0-

Some time had passed and during it you chatted with Tubbo casually, idly noting all the people who started to trickle into the seats around you. You recognized most in one way or another. Some more than others. Like you’d watched a good deal of the ‘main characters’ on the dsmp. And while you knew the names and skins of the lesser involved players you didn’t watch their videos much. Like Callahan, Punz, and Ponk. You knew the bare bones info about them. In fact most of what you knew was from clips and animatics you’d seen on youtube..

You tuned back into the election, watched from the front row as the rally began. It looked like Quackity was going first, alone too it seemed since George was nowhere to be found. Apparently he was ‘too busy being gorgeous’ to bother showing up. You pursed your lips when you noticed Quackity was sounding a touch nervous at first. Which you could understand, speaking in front of a crowd was always tough. Especially if you’re not really used to it, which even then you’d heard that public speakers said they never truly got rid of the jitters going out in front of a crowd causes. So you sent some good vibes to Quackity, he may not be the one you necessarily want winning this election but.. well you don’t want him to embarrass himself either. But it turns out he.. didn’t do great but didn’t bomb either. It didn’t help that the others running were making little comments through his speech. 

He spoke about caring about the people of L’manberg and how his endorsement was KSI, despite the fact KSI hadn’t replied back to him. Not a great start. Also Jesus Christ himself apparently. That had actually made you laugh a little. And you laughed louder when you heard the chime to signify you’d gotten a message, only in multiple around you. Turns out everyone had gotten a message from Dream on the main channel. 

<Dream> god endorses swag2020

Quackity laughed, cheering loudly while Wilbur rolled his eyes and Tommy sighed. Then it was Pog2020’s turn to show off their endorsements. The first of which being Vikkstar it seemed. You couldn’t help but think it was so surreal to see these… well normal people from real life being canon characters in the Dream SMP universe… apparently. Well that seemed to make the crowd go wild in disbelief and amusement while Tommy pounded his fist on the podium triumphantly while Wilbur cheered. After that Wilbur shoved Tommy aside so he could speak into the podium and said he also brought in an endorsement. And then he introduced…. Schlatt. You wanted to facepalm so bad. You’d actually forgotten this part from the videos. It had totally slipped your mind that Wilbur was the reason Schlatt even knew about the damn election in the first place. 

And to top it off the man was clearly drunk or at least hungover. He didn’t even seem to know where the hell he was. Idly you wondered when he got unbanned by Dream as you watched the messages from Schlatt roll through on the message system. It was mostly him asking where the fuck he was and if the ‘big fuckin’ wall’ he was next to was the Great Wall of China. You facepalmed and heard Tommy say he was going to go fetch him. Quackity was laughing and saying one of their endorsements was ‘some old man’, and you rolled your eyes because little duck boy was gonna be engaged to that ‘old man’ soon.. But you kept that tidbit to yourself. Though when Quackity called the ram hybrid ‘babe’ and he said to not call him that, making Quackity laugh you raised an eyebrow, figuring they were already together! Nonchalantly you wondered how much stuff you’d missed.

And then came the yelling.

Schlatt started rambling about how democracy was overrated and he didn’t ‘need a president’, how he’d be his own president. All while Tommy and Wilbur tried to talk over him and get him off the stage. Then he started shit talking Quackity, asking everyone if they really wanted HIM to be their president. Then he went on a tangent about how Quackity’s vice president ‘stole his woman’, which just caused everyone to laugh, even you. You have to admit, the man was funny if nothing else. Made you wish he wasn’t an alcoholic drug using abusive asshole. Blah Blah Wilbur stole his heart, blah blah Coconut 2020, etc that you were half listening to.

About then is when Tommy, still laughing at this whole debacle, glanced down and noticed you and Tubbo sitting in the front row. He gave a bright grin and waved to you both, to which you both smiled and waved back. This little interaction somehow managed to catch Schlatt’s attention, even through his booze addled ramblings. He just stopped mid sentence and stumbled over to Tommy and asked that the fuck he was even doing. Tommy gave an awkward laugh and said he was just waving hello to his friends. Schlatt gave him a ‘wtf’ look and scanned the crowd for who the blond boy was talking about. His horizontal oval pupils finally landed on Tubbo, making the boy give a slightly stiff wave to the older male. Schlatt stared at the boy for almost a full 20 seconds, making Tubbo sweat nervously. 

You could almost tell yourself that you saw a flash of recognition in the goat hybrid’s eyes, but before you could blink it was gone and he was instead turning to look at you. Your eyebrows lowered as his gaze perked up and a grin you’re not above describing as ‘sleazy’ crossed his features. His eyes raked over your form, making you give him an unamused look. Schlatt leaned over to Tommy, missing how the teen sorta leaned away from him, and asked who ‘the baddie with the fat ass’ was. Tommy grimaced and replied saying for the other man to not say something so gross. 

“That’s Reader, don’t say nasty shit about her man!”

Schlatt laughed and told the younger man to not be such a little bitch, he had to see how hot this woman was! The hair, the horns, the ASS! Before Schlatt could continue to make lewd comments about your person Quackity smacked him with a golden carrot and started cursing him out in Spanish. While the two argued Wilbur went up to the microphone and said that the ACTUAL people running were going to be going into the White House to have a little chat and they’d be right back. Then he and Tommy ran off, Quackity, Schaltt, Niki, and Fundy hot on their heels. Leaving the stage totally empty. Everyone in the audience gave each other side glances before looking up when you stood from your chair and headed to the podium. 

Tubbo blinked in surprise before hopping up and following after you, calling your name and asking where you were going. You ruffled his hair and said you just wanted to say one thing to everyone in attendance. He hummed and followed after you, curious to see what you were up to. You knew the outcome of the election, sadly, and didn’t think there was any way to change it really. But you wanted to impart some wisdom onto the citizens of L’manburg really quick before all those dorks came back after finishing their nonsense. So you sat down on the stage, legs hanging over the side by the podium, and grabbed the mic and sighed before saying to the crowd down below,

“Listen up everyone. I’m not part of the other campaigns or anything, but I wanted to just say something real quick to all of you.”

The crowd watched you with rapt attention, wondering who on the SMP you were. You started off with a light chuckle, saying you’d never been a public speaker so if you started rambling and not making a ton of sense then that was why. Then you took a breath and just said what was on your mind.

“I’m not here to endorse anyone or try to convince you to vote for this or that person. I just wanted to say that despite all the shenanigans going on today that this is actually supposed to be pretty serious. Goofing off aside, you all are going to be voting for the person in charge of your country. The person tasked with ensuring you are all safe and cared for. Being president is a big responsibility. One that shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

You looked at each person in the crowd, lots you knew OF but didn’t know personally. But you made sure to tell them what you thought a president should be.

“Being president shouldn’t be about having glory or power. It should be about working to make sure all your citizens are safe, happy, and above all; THRIVING. If the citizens are miserable or not being heard then the president has failed. So I want you all to think hard about who you want to vote into office. Who do you think will honestly care for your needs as a country? Who will defend you and ensure you’re all living your best lives?”

The crowd seemed to be listening to you, none of them had interrupted you anyways. And Tubbo was smiling, having apparently thought you’d done a good job speaking. But you heard the sound of approaching voices and sighed again. You’ve been sighing a lot today, but that’s not really a surprise is it? Instead of dwelling on it you conclude your speech with a simple,

“Just keep in mind who you’re voting for, because you’re going to be stuck with them for the next few years.”

Then you placed the microphone back on the podium and grabbed Tubbo around the waist, and to the boy’s shock you jumped down from the roughly 8 block high stage. He let out an involuntary high pitched yelp of shock that was abruptly cut off when you both landed on the ground unharmed. He blinked then started laughing, which made you begin to snicker. He shoved your shoulder and called you a bastard for freaking him out. You just teased him for even thinking you’d let him get hurt. He changed the subject when everyone saw Schlatt coming over, though you could tell he was happy to hear you cared. But the moment was over once Schlatt stumbled into the audience, looking more than a little out of it. He hobbled over to the bed Tommy had put down for him before he’d gone on stage and collapsed down onto it, for some reason in mismatched armor and clutching carrots. You had no idea where he got any of that stuff because he’d shown up with nothing but the suit on his back you thought.

But then Wilbur, Tommy, and Schlatt all came back from wherever they’d been while talking. And it didn’t look like they’d come to any peaceful resolution, though you’re not surprised. And you’re even further unsurprised when Quackity announced he was going to be pooling his votes with Schlatt. But that right now the debate was over and they just had to let the voting go on until the next day. So with that Wilbur ended the rally and bid everyone a pleasant rest of their day. And soon everyone had dispersed, leaving Tubbo and you waiting by the stairs that led up to the stage. Tommy walked down with Wilbur, the older of the two looking pensive. But as you all walked down the main path it seemed Wilbur was deep in thought. You watched him while Tommy and Tubbo chatted, but as the cobble path turned to wood the older brunet said he’d see them tomorrow and walked off to who knows where.

Then Tubbo gave you and Tommy a secretive glance and said to follow him, which you both did without complaint. That’s when the brown haired boy started saying he’d been ‘hoping for the best but planning for the worst’. Tommy asked what he was going on about, ‘planning for the worst’?? So Tubbo explained that he’d made a little thing for if things went bad. That’s when you noticed he was leading you both far from the main area and towards the edge of the L’manberg territory by one of the border walls. And there hidden under the water thanks to some craft sign placement was a hidden entrance into a secret tunnel. All of which led to a bunker. Tommy was in disbelief at the sight, frantically asking his best friend when the hell he’d even had time to make this! Tubbo just gave a vaguely cryptic reply of, “I don’t sleep.” Which you scolded him for. You placed a hand on his head and rocked it back and forth a little roughly and said he was a growing boy who needed sleep! 

“Sleep is when your body grows! If you don’t sleep you’ll be short forever!” You huffed.

That made Tommy burst out into borderline hysterical laughter while Tubbo shouted in outrage. You laughed a little and easily blocked the hits Tubbo was weakly trying to land on you. But once they both settled down Tubbo actually showed off the supplies, like potions and such, he’d prepared for Tommy and Wilbur should anything go sour. Tommy, still shocked but appreciative, thanked his friend and said they should go tell Wilbur. They asked if you wanted to come or if you’d like to sleep for the night. You just shrugged and said you weren’t really tired. But you told them THEY needed sleep however. 

They groaned but you shushed them and made them go back to their place and sleep. They said they didn’t have a bed for you but you just pulled out a book and said you’d read by the fire until it was time to read the election results. They complained that they weren’t tired but you hushed them and said you could see how they were more sluggish compared to how they’d been that morning. And after some weak whining they eventually gave in and placed their beds down, took their armor off, and crawled under the blankets. Meanwhile you sat by the furnace, book in hand and hummed to yourself softly as you read. The two boys fell asleep faster than usual, chalking it up to the busy day they had. Not thinking to link it to feeling safe as they laid in bed.

-0-

It felt like barely an hour had passed before the sun was creeping up over the horizon. You’d finished going through the enchantment book forever ago, and it sat on your lap while you stared down at the fire in the furnace. You wondered when the election results would be read out and breathed in slowly, feeling tired but not physically. With nothing else to do you got busy making some breakfast. Just something simple, eggs with toast. But it worked to wake the two boys up, the smell of the fresh food rousing them to the land of the living. They practically devoured the breakfast before slipping their armor on and saying they should go now. It was a decent time to start the day. So they led you along to Wilbur, who had been in the midst of leaving his ball house. The two boys said they had something secret to tell him, and he actually hadn’t wanted to talk ‘government topics’ with you around. You rolled your eyes behind your mask but agreed to go wait by the stage until they were done.

So you sat alone in the audience, watching people slowly arrive as you did. Ponk was the first, his signature fire colored mask and lab coat(?) revealing who he was. Then right after was HBomb, dressed almost like a pirate for some reason? Or maybe he was a referee? He was in black and white stripes with a headband so you’re unsure, could go either way. And then Punz with his stylish white hoodie and gold chain. Then you saw Niki coming down to greet Eret. He was in full netherite and nobody gave her a second glance which sorta surprised you. They’d betrayed everyone hadn’t he? You admit you don’t know much about her. But they seem to be on good terms with Niki at any rate. Regardless he stood to the side, not really sitting with anyone. So maybe things weren’t as gucci as you thought. You were distracted from thinking about it as a man in a L’manberg uniform and headset arrived. Jack Manifold you think. Walking past him was George and Dream. 

You narrowed your eyes at Dream, something about him felt off? Which was weird considering you’d never met the man in person before so you’re not sure how you could tell if he was ‘off’ or not. But something about him was just… weird. Maybe it was the hood and mask obscuring his entire upper body save for some dirty blond hair poking out from said hood. Or maybe how his body moved fluidly like a person but… it also didn’t seem to be in the right proportions. His arms and legs felt a teeny bit too long while his torso seemed shorter than it should be. 

‘Maybe it’s the cut of the hood and pants making it look that way..’ you thought to yourself.

Wilbur speaking suddenly caught your attention, and when you looked up at the stage you saw all the candidates standing there while Tubbo was hurrying over to the seat you’d saved for him next to you. Seemed they were starting now. The little goat hybrid gave you a nervous smile before focusing on the results. Wilbur started reading but paused to ask Tommy why he was standing with his own mic, and then said he should be standing behind him. You watched them bicker a second before Wilbur gave in and let Tommy stand with his own mic. You smiled and shook your head fondly when Tommy gave a silent cheer for himself ‘winning’ that one. Once that was done Wilbur began explaining what was going to happen. They weren’t just reading off the results, they were also going to be inaugurating the winner as president. And then explained how the new president would make a decree and how the first decree was very important.

“My fellow L’manbergians, and by that I mean Ponk, HBomb, and Tubbo. And the others in the crowd as well, including Tommy’s tall friend…” he said while gesturing to you. 

Tubbo loudly cheered for Wilbur, making Tommy and Quackity laugh. You giggled a little at his antics but mostly kept silent to hear. Wilbur announced he had the election results in his hands, then held up an envelope and continued by reading off the four competing parties: POG2020, SWAG2020, COCONUT2020, and SCHLATT2020. And there had been a total of 220,000 votes. This of course confused everyone and Quackity pointed out there were barely 10 people in the audience, so how had so many votes been cast. Wilbur let out a tired sigh and elaborated, saying he’d accidentally opened the vote… to all the other servers when he’d broadcasted the election live…

Everyone started kicking up a fuss, some upset strangers from other servers were weighing in on a server they weren’t even a part of while others found this all hysterically hilarious. Wilbur settled the crowd down and explained there’d been some voter fraud as well, but he’d gotten rid of all the votes that had come from the same communicator protocol. But then he pointed out that all the fraud votes were only voting for one party.. then stared directly at Fundy and Niki. They glanced away from everyone else and Quackity said through laughter that they should be disqualified. Tommy agreed and said there was only one coder in the Coconut2020 party.. But Wilbur sighed when Fundy was silent before saying diplomatically that they should count all the votes regardless of their CP address… Everyone started laughing until Wilbur shushed them and started actually reading off the results, finally.

“In last place is Coconut2020 with 5%,” Fundy and Niki cheered for the votes they did get. Tommy gave them a slightly sarcastic congratulations while Quackity cackled. Then Wilbur continued,

“Then in second to last place with 9% is Schlatt2020…” That was actually surprising to everyone since Schlatt was a very charismatic guy on most fronts and usually never had issues with luring people to his side.

The current president turned to look at Quackity and George then glanced at Tommy and said that the two final running parties were Pog2020 and Swag2020, and coming in third place was…. Swag2020 with 22%. And Pog2020 with 31%. Tommy’s eyes went wide and he practically screamed his joy, nearly tripping backwards in his excitement. He rushed up to Wilbur and demanded to know if they’d won, and when Wilbur said they did Tommy missed the rest of the statement telling him to wait. The blond boy was too thrilled to stop and listen and without thinking he yelled down to you,

“MUM I WON THE ELECTION! WE WON!!” practically bouncing off the stage. 

You gave him a grin, mentally cooing over him calling you mom and not even noticing but inside your stomach was churning as you waited for the other boot to drop.. And after Wilbur calmed Tommy he made clear that Quackity and Schlatt had made a deal to pool their votes. Meaning together they had 31% as well. Meaning it’s a tie. This caused an uproar between the parties, everyone seemingly arguing while you puzzled over it being a tie! That hadn’t happened originally… But it was Niki who quieted everyone and pointed out something rather jarring…

“All four of our votes only equal up to be 67%... there’s a chunk of votes missing!”

Everyone was silent before George barked out a ‘what the hell?!’ that made everyone start arguing again. Schlatt was insisting that Wilbur counted them wrong while Quackity demanded they be recounted. Meanwhile Wilbur adamantly said he’d counted right and they were wrong. It took Tommy snatching the slip of paper out of his hand that had the election results typed out on them to get Wilbur to stop shouting. As Tommy read the list of results he mentally counted up the percentages and frowned before saying Niki was right, that was only like 67%! But then Fundy chimed in and asked what was written on the back. Confused Tommy turned the paper over and his eyes went wide. He was in shock and spoke in a normal tone, which just got drowned out by everyone. Seeing he was being ignored he shouted,

“OI! DICKHEADS! You missed the ‘other’ section of the votes!”

That grabbed Wilbur’s attention easily, he’d forgotten all about the ‘other’ voting option. And hadn’t even known anything was written on the back of the slip of paper. He ripped it out of Tommy’s grasp and rushed to read the back, his voice getting more subdued as he spoke…

“With the most votes at 33% is…. Reader..”

---

@salinesoot @lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu @hufflepuff-demigod @corpiet @beepa99 @anxiousnarwhale @bananaaddictmilkshake @realitycanbeajerk @lostandsouciant

[twotapbuz]

The leader and a body guard(Rin x reader)

(Sorry this took so long, school sucked all of my motivation away. You can find the rest of the series here: Eloni )

warning: violence, slight angst with a happy ending

Sometime after the rock revolution, Neon J decided to leave for a 3-week vacation

This meant that you and your coworkers would need to report to Rin

The first couple of days were difficult because Rin didn’t seem to care about the reports and would flirt with whoever was giving him the report

It wasn’t till week two that things began to spiral

1010 had been in the middle of a performance when a fight broke out in the crowd

You jumped out of where you were standing to help control the crowd

You assessed the damage after everything calmed down

The venue + stage was partially destroyed, Purl-Hew lost his glasses and an eye, Haym lost an arm, Zimelu and Eloni’s faces were cracked, and Rin was missing

Rin was missing

This was bad news as the factory still hadn’t been repaired yet which meant that he couldn’t be brought back until Neon J came back

And if Neon J found out that you lost a member of 1010, you and your co-workers would be fired

So your group split into two parts, one half would take Zimelu, Haym, Purl- Hew, and Eloni back to Barraca Mansion while the other half would search for Rin

You were placed into the latter

It had been nearly an hour since Rin was discovered missing and there still was no sign of him. You were definitely going to get fired. While the concert was in Cast Tech, you along with several others were sent to search Metro Division in case he simply went back to Baraca Mansion without telling anyone. You were about to head back when you heard the sound of crashing metal. 

“Hello, is anyone there?” You didn’t mean to say anything, but you were caught off guard. Against your better judgment, you began to walk towards that alley. You were desperate to find him after all.

“Stay back! RETREAT!” shouted a panicked autotuned voice. It was Rin.

“Rin? Is that you? Are you ok?” you rushed down the alley to find Rin hiding next to a dumpster.

“Don’t look at me!” Rin was trying to cover the right side of his face with his arm.

“What? Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah! Do not worry about me, I’ll make it back fine,” Rin tried to stand up, still covering his face, but immediately fell back down because his leg was missing.

“Look… everyone’s worried about you and you won’t be able to make it back by yourself with that leg,” you gestured at Rin’s broken leg. Please let me help you, I know some shortcuts.” You offered your arm. Rin hesitantly lifted his hand for his face and grabbed your hand for support. The metal that covered the right side of her face was gone, revealing the damaged hardware underneath.

You involuntarily flinched, he may not have been human, but it was still pretty jarring to look at something that looked like a person who was missing part of their face. Rin also flinched, covering his missing face with both of his hands now.

“I’m so sorry about that”, you rubbed your neck, “I just… well I didn’t expect the injury to be that bad.”

“You aren’t going to scream, are you?

“What? No, I'm very sorry about that. Besides I’ve seen way worse” you joked, trying to release the tension. Rin hesitantly uncovered his face once again and grabbed your hand and pulled himself up. The two of you dodged the groups of people walking through Metro Divison.

As the two of you were walking through, you couldn’t help but wonder about Rin’s reaction when it suddenly hit you, 1010 got severely injured during the rock revolution. One of these injuries included all of them losing their faceplates. Their fans unsurprisingly freaked out which caused 1010 to explode due to some protocol Neon J must’ve implemented. Your heart sank when you realized Rin’s reaction wasn’t because he was worried about his image, but he was scared of you screaming and what would follow afterward.

——————

After that incident, Rin seemed to act differently towards you. He took you more seriously and listened to your reports

Even after Neón J came back, Rin still came to you for your reports

Probably just practice for when Neón j retires, you thought

As the weeks passed, the time spent on the casual chats you had increased to the point you’d forgot to give him the actual report several times

“And that’s how we got Quienne and Bebe.” Rin had just finished telling you the story of how they got their cats by Haym and Eloni smuggling them in through a box. This was one of many of the 'behind the scenes stories' that Rin had told you. While they didn’t act that much different when they weren’t on camera or in front of a crowd, it was nice to be trusted enough to hear about their personal lives.

“So what about you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have any good stories? I don’t think it’s fair if I tell all of my secrets after all~.” Rin teased

“Well, I do have one. I was at a dance audition and waiting for my turn to perform and this dude that was performing was pretty much a circus act. He was doing all these frontflips and backflips and it was just crazy. Wish I had recorded it.”

“You used to be a performer? How come you stopped?” Rin curiously asked.

“Nah, I never made it past the first round of auditions. I didn't really mind since I only entered to support a friend.” You sipped on your coffee

“That’s a shame.” Rin paused for a moment. “You know I could always offer you lessons.”

 “that's really nice, but I’ll have to decline. No amount of practice can fix these two left feet.” You looked at the clock, realizing half an hour had passed. You quickly said your goodbye and left to avoid getting into trouble. Rin watched your back as he left, unsure why he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

——————

Rin was walking to his dressing room when he saw you walking alongside several other security staff. As rude as it sounded, Rin normally wouldn’t think twice about the people he worked with. Most staff would either quit from being harassed by crazy 1010 fans or get fired for secretly being 1010 fans who used the job to get access to 1010 content, or worse, 1010 themselves. Rin shuddered as memories of one of the many incidents came back. Rin could count on both of his hands the amount of current staff that has been working for over a year and you were one of them. Rin began to think about the early part of his career when he and his family would actively engage with the staff, talking about both of their personal lives and inviting them over to hang out in the mansion. He and his brothers stopped interacting with the staff after the high turnover started. What was the point of talking with them if they were going to quit and avoid 1010 like the plague or get fired and be avoided by 1010 like the plague. He was glad that he could talk to you. He also liked the sound of your voice and how your eyes sparkled brighter than the LEDs that lit up him and his brothers. Rin blushed at the last thoughts. The sound of your voice and the sparkle of your eyes? It’s not like he was in love with you or anything. He was technically your boss and your relationship was completely professional. Yeah, your interactions were one of his favorite parts of his day and your smile would always brighten his day, but even if he was in love with you(which he is not) there’s still the challenge of gaining the approval of his family and having to deal with his fan’s harassment. He couldn’t let you go through that. Though Rin couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to talk with you outside of work…even go on a couple dates… maybe he was in love afterall.

——————

You walked past Rin and smiled. Despite your attempts, you fell for Rin's charm just like his fans did and it took you no time to notice this. You knew you were never going to say anything, afterall, everyone knows the rule about not dating coworkers and Rin can choose practically anyone, why would he pick you?

——————

It was the first concert after the rock revolution

The fans were extra antsy due to the lack of content, so it was all hands on deck

You were positioned on the front of the stage

This concert was no different than the previous ones, 1010 were performing, a couple of their fans attempted to jump on the stage, and you could barely hear your own thoughts over the mix of music and cheering. Suddenly both of those stopped. You looked at the stage and so 1010 standing still in mid-performance. You were told about this situation during training: it was either a malfunction or a hacking. You prayed that it wasn’t the latter. 1010 suddenly began to move in sync, but it was different from their normal in sync movement. You saw two fans get tackled to the ground as a red saw blade passed them at what would’ve been chest height. Your radio buzzed loudly as you were given your new orders:

“Get everyone out of there.”

It was chaos as you rushed around to get everyone out of the venue. Those with superhuman abilities(pyrokinesis, levitation, etc) stayed behind to prevent 1010 from leaving the venue. Despite not having any abilities, you stayed behind too. You were running around in the back looking for anyone who still might be there when the rubble from an explosion behind you knocked you to the ground. You quickly got up and saw Rin towering over Neon J. Without thinking, you quickly grabbed a nearby pipe that came from the newly busted wall and smashed it over Rin’s head. This managed to stop his attack, but it also brought his attention to you. He suddenly ran towards you, grabbed you, and threw you against the wall. Your consciousness began to fade in and out as your head collided with the wall. You saw Rin approaching you, then darkness, Rin raising his arm to strike, darkness again, Rin being pulled away by Neón J, darkness again, the inside of an ambulance, and then nothing.

——————

You woke up in a hospital room. Your eyes scanned the room: on your right was a monitor accompanied by an IV drip. On your left was a small table with flowers, a get-well balloon, a couple cards, and a Rin with a worried face sitting on one of the chairs of the room. Rin noticed you were awake and quickly rushed before stopping unsure of what to do.

“Y/N” Rin said, unsure of what to do or say

“Rin”

“Y/N… I’m so sorry about what happened- I didn’t want to-I couldn’t stop- if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you-” Rin began to stutter out of guilt. He kept making sentences but giving up on them and starting new ones.

“Rin, please” Rin paused and looked at you. “It’s not your fault, I know you would never do this” the two of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before you continued, “You know... if the offers still up… I’d be happy to accept those dance lessons when I get discharged." Rin began to smile

“Yeah, the offers still up”

——————

Neon J walked through the hospital’s halls. For the past two weeks, he had been personally escorting Rin to your hospital room. He knew Rin felt responsible for your injuries so he didn’t object to this despite the possible security risks(he couldn't keep his boys locked up). He had heard from Rin that you had woken up and he was glad that you were ok, but he had to cut your visitor time short due to an interview that all 1010 members must be present for. He walked into your room to find the two of you sleeping with Rin’s head on your lap. 

“It’ll be fine if Rin misses one interview.” Neon J thought as he closed the door. He also began to wonder how long it will be before Rin introduces you officially to the family.

[collecting-stories]

Strawberry - Daryl Dixon

Request: Hi love! I adore your daryl dixon works and i was wondering if i would be able to request a scenario where you risk your life to save a baby that you found and daryl’s reaction (you still survive but it was a narrow escape) to your maternal instincts? 

A/N: I think I went a little off course with this one. To be fair, I tried it out three different ways and settled on this so hopefully it’s good. 

The Walking Dead Masterlist

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

The atmosphere at camp had taken a relatively negative turn after you’d gotten back from the run with Daryl. It didn’t help that you were injured, cuts so deep on your leg that if Daryl hadn’t vouched for them being caused by barbed wire you were sure Shane would’ve shot you on the spot, convinced you’d been bitten. Hershel had to stitch you up and you could hear Andrea bitching the entire time, voice carrying through the door, that this was all a liability. You, your recklessness, your injury, and, most importantly, the baby that you were holding on your lap for the entirety of Hershel’s work.  

A little girl without a name, she was wearing pink corduroy overalls with strawberries embroidered into them. The run, which should have been routine, had taken you and Daryl further into town. He’d been spending a lot of time looking for Sophia but when Glenn injured his ankle on a run, Rick nominated you and Daryl to head out in search of supplies.  

“When I told you to bring back whatever you could find,” Rick said, watching the baby skeptically, “I didn’t mean a baby.”

She was little more than five months old you guessed, trapped in a car seat in the back of an old Volkswagen that Glenn told you hadn’t been there when he passed through before. “Must’ve been other survivors, travelling through the area.” Everyone seemed to have an opinion on the baby and on your decision to save her, at great personal risk to yourself, but you tuned most of them out. Aside from situationally, most of these people weren’t ones you would ever actually spend time with and you didn’t care if the Andrea’s of the world passed judgement on your personal convictions.  

“How’s she doing?” The only one who had been surprisingly without criticism of your actions was the one person you had expected to admonish you for being reckless. Daryl sat down on the porch steps beside you, crossbow on his lap.  

You had seen the baby trying to outrun a hoard of walkers and get back to Daryl’s bike. She was inside the car, crying, and you had doubled back for her, nearly killing yourself when you caught your leg on a bundle of barbed wire from a downed fence. Daryl had cut it from your leg, part of your jeans ripping off with them as he pulled you and the baby to safety. He’d been the one to bandage you enough to get you back to the farm too, not a word to you the entire time.  

In all honesty, you were waiting for him to be angry. Maybe not yell because you hadn’t really experienced him yelling at you before, but certainly had heard him go at it with Shane a few times. And you expected something, at least a “yer stupid” but so far he hadn’t said anything.  

“Alright,” you shifted the baby in your arms and placed the empty bottle down between you and Daryl, “she finally ate.”

He nodded, glancing over at the baby as you laid her against your chest to burp her. “Yer good with her, ya got any experience with babies then?” He asked, more than you’d talked to him since Merle went missing, presumed dead. Probably more than you had spoken to him before that too.  

“I was the middle kid of nine,” you replied, “babies are pretty much part of my wiring. I always thought I’d have one.”

“Got one now.”

You laughed, maybe the first honest one since you’d wound up in Atlanta. Daryl wasn’t one to joke around and that, partially, had thrown you into the minor fit but, more over, he was right. As judgmental as Lori and Andrea and Shane wanted to be, this baby wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. None of them would as you to do that.  

“I guess I do.” You finally said, “I’m sorry for getting us all mixed up, by the way. I wasn’t trying to jeopardise your safety.”  

“I ain’t some heartless bastard, not gonna ask ya ta leave a kid ta die.” He replied.  

“Still, thought you’d have something to say about it. Everyone else seems to.”  

“Yeah well,” his hands worked to clean the crossbow and he paused his speech for a moment, full concentration on the weapon in his hands. He listened for any sign of footsteps or the possibility of somebody that might overhear the conversation. “Shane woulda just as soon shot ya both in the back.”  

“That’s true.”  

“Everybody’s losing that bit of ‘em...it’s good ya still got it.” He said quietly and you nodded because you understood what he was trying to say. The same thing that had him out there looking for Sophia had propelled you back to the car. And if he had seen the baby first he would’ve done the same thing.  

The baby made a quiet heaving noise before something akin to a giggle and you laid her on your thighs as you reached for the spit blanket that Maggie had given you. Daryl reached a hand over, steadying the baby she didn’t roll off your lap, the infant cooing at him and grabbing at his fingers.  

“I looked through her diaper bag,” you finally said, adjusting her again so she could sit up, facing her out to the yard and letting her look around at everything. She seemed transfixed with Daryl, reaching out for him and clapping her hands together when he gave her his hand back. “There’s no name or anything on it…not even on her tags.”  

“I ain’t good at naming things,” Daryl said, as if sensing that was why you’d brought it up. “Stray cat used to come in our yard ta eat and all I called him was kitty.”  

“Yeah…I’m gonna pass on naming her Baby.” You joked, “just figured since you were there when I found her.”  

“She’s all yours,” he replied hastily though he had set his crossbow aside to play with her. Not going so far as to take her off your lap but keeping her occupied, holding her attention.  

-

You pushed open the door to the jail cell, sliding the curtain out of the way as you slipped inside, surprised to see Daryl sitting on the bed in your tiny room, the baby on his lap. You had put her down for a nap only thirty minutes earlier, heading outside to check the snares with Rick and had come back in to make sure she was alright.

“Beth asked if I’d check on her,” Daryl said, not even looking away from her as you shut the curtain and pulled the chair over. “Said Judith was fussing.”

“Thanks, sorry I was out in the field...guess I shouldn’t be leaving her with everyone else if I’m the one who’s supposed to be taking care of her.” You joked. Lori was gone now but the admonishment had been from her. That if you so desperately wanted this baby around than you should be the one to care for her.  

“Ain’t just a job for one person.” Daryl replied, “she ain’t hard to take care of anyway.”

“That’s cause she likes you.” You observed. His cheeks flushed and he bowed his head, almost bashful at the thought and you just smiled like you hadn’t noticed his sudden behavior, turning your attention to the baby.  

-

“Frazier,” the little girl rocked back on her bottom, giggling when she met Daryl’s shins and tilting her head back to look up at him. Her knees and the palms of her hands were stained from the grass that she’d been tearing through.  

She smiled, rocking herself forward so that she could clumsily stand up, turning swiftly to face Daryl again as she reached her arms up for him. “Daddy!” The moniker was new, ever since Judith had started talking, calling Rick ‘dada’ when she saw him, Frazier had decided that she, too, required a dad. And, naturally, she had decided that it was Daryl.  

He shouldered the crossbow he was carrying and leaned down to scoop her up, doing his best to ignore the name. You’d suggested that maybe the term would die out as she got a little older but so far it was sticking and, while Daryl made like it bothered him, it didn’t really. Taking care of the baby, who you’d named from your mother’s side of the family, had seemingly brought the two of you closer. Or at least it had created a reason for Daryl to stay close to you. Looking out for the baby, as he always put it.  

“She’s been waiting all day for you.”  

Speak of the devil, he turned toward the house to see you coming out to greet them, still pulling a hoodie on to combat the chill that had settled into Alexandria. In the time between Hershel’s farm and now you had seen a lot of bloodshed, lost a lot of people. For a brief moment in time Daryl had been fairly positive he had lost the both of you too, but you had turned up in the woods outside of Terminus, Frazier right there with you.  

“Ya been keeping watch?” He asked, jostling her slightly and being rewarded when she giggled and nodded her head.  

“Yeah, no naps!”  

“Oh Lord,” he muttered, handing her off to you when you reached out for her.  

“Come on Frazier, let’s get some food?” You offered, carrying her towards the stairs. She twisted in your arms, reaching over your shoulder for Daryl as he followed behind you.  

For all the maternal instincts everyone always said that you had, you thought Daryl was just as protective and acutely aware of Frazier, and now Judith, as you were. He was just less obvious about it. Trying to pass it off as indifference when in actuality you had seen that side of him often and in excess.  

-

Taglist: @cbarter @onemorebeautifulnightmare @mainokutan @solllaris @twdeadfanfic @legit-emily @gigilame @sabertooth-potato @enrapturedbythemoon @thanossexual @yespleasejayhalstead 

[tobesolonely]

birthday dinner

summary: harry and y/n’s daughter turns seventeen and reveals she has a boyfriend within the timespan of like, 2 days, and harry cannot process it </3

a/n: this gif has nothing to do with the story i just think he looks so hot❤️ i literally wrote this all today it just came to me... kinda proofread but kinda not?! 

warnings: no smut but like one very brief mention of sex, fluff, maybe like 1 angsty part? kinda? not really , mentions of drinking alcohol

word count: ~3.6k 

my ko-fi! thank you :)

let me know your thoughts!!

When you and Harry excitedly told your family and friends almost seventeen years ago that you were expecting your first (and unbeknownst to you at the time— your only) child, you were both over the moon. The people in your life who already had children told you to cherish every moment, the good and the bad because she’d be all grown up before you knew it. You took everyone’s advice graciously but of course, as an expectant mom, there was no way for your mind to even think that far ahead. 

Everyone was right, though. 

Now your daughter, Mona, was nearly seventeen— you felt like all you did was blink and she was this independent, beautiful, young woman. She was the perfect mix of both of you. She had her father’s kindness, patience, and determination. She had your willpower, grace, and wit. Neither one of you could be any more in love with the beautiful human being you’ve created. 

In the months leading up to your daughter’s birthday, you constantly badgered her about how she wanted to celebrate. She would always respond with a nice dinner with you and Harry— unlike her father she tended to shy away from attention— but Harry wasn’t on board with the idea of anything that wasn’t a ginormous party.

“She doesn’t want that,” you told him one evening as you were setting the table for dinner. “You know how shy she gets. She’s not like you.” Harry rolls his eyes at your comment. 

“I feel like tha’s supposed to be an insult, but I’ll ignore it,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed. “You only turn seventeen once. We gotta do somethin’ she’ll never forget.”

“Well, we’re not the ones turning seventeen, hmm? That was quite some time ago if I’m not mistaken.” Harry gives you a cheeky grin.

“So happy she’s not anything like us when we were seventeen. ‘Member all the shit we used to get into when we were her age?” 

You laugh, shaking your head as you recall memories from your teenage years. “Yeah, we’re raising an absolute angel compared to what we were.” Your husband hums in agreement, walking the short distance to the dining table to snake his arms around your waist from behind. 

“Speaking of our little angel,” he places wet kisses to your neck. “Still got a bit of time until she’s home from volleyball practice, haven’t we?”

You move away from Harry, giving him a warning look. “You’re insatiable, I swear! I’m still recovering from last night,” Harry laughs at how dramatic you were being. “We’re not as young as we used to be, y’know.”

“Oi, don’t remind me, love,” he places a quick smack to your butt, walking out of the room before you can reprimand him. 

Just as you finish tossing the salad and reach for your phone to check and see where your daughter is, she walks through the front door, tossing her sports gear in a messy pile at her feet.

“Mom, dad,” she calls loudly. “I’m home!” 

“You don’t have to tell us,” Harry calls back from upstairs, probably in his office. “Can smell you from all the way up here.” 

You giggle silently to yourself, already able to see the look of annoyance on your daughter’s face. She rounds the corner and appears before you in the doorway of the kitchen, her curly hair a mess and her face slick with sweat. 

“Hi mom,” she chirps sweetly, a dimpled grin on her face. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving, mom. Our coach made us run sooooo much today and we had to do all this conditioning and my legs literally feel like jelly.”

Your daughter reaches her hand in the salad bowl to grab a cucumber and you quickly slap it away, tsking loudly. “Mona! I haven’t seen you wash your hands yet!” 

“Mom, my hands are clean. I used hand sanitizer when I got in my car after practice,” she tells you matter-of-factly, rolling her big, brown eyes at you. “You’re such a germaphobe.” 

“What’s this ‘bout callin’ your mum a germaphobe?” Harry walks into the kitchen, his curls now pulled back with one of his daughter’s many headbands. He presses a kiss to the top of her sweaty head and wrinkles his nose. “Yeah Mo, you smell a bit. Why don’t you go get washed up before we eat?” 

“Dad,” your daughter responds, clearly exasperated. “You don’t understand. I’m literally starving.” 

“Mo,” Harry imitates your daughter. “You don’t understand. You literally smell like shit.” 

Your eyes widen and you smack Harry on the chest as he bursts out laughing, not being able to help himself once he sees the annoyed look on his daughter’s face. “Don’t be an ass!” you scold, placing your hands on your hips. “She’s hungry. She can wash up after.” 

“Thanks, mom,” Mona says, turning her head dramatically to face you. “Dad is so mean sometimes.”

“I’m just messin’ with ya, Mo,” Harry tells your daughter, nudging her gently. “You smellin’ like shit jus’ means you’re workin’ hard at practice. So I’m proud of you.” Your daughter rolls her eyes for what seems like the hundredth time since she walked in the door, quickly moving away from your husband to wash her hands.

“You’re seriously so annoying,” Mona mumbles, shaking her wet hands all over the tiled kitchen floor. “Can we eat now? I think I’ll faint if we don’t eat now. Seriously, guys.”

Your daughter takes her usual seat at the table, immediately reaching for the salad bowl and filling her plate. She avoids all the tomatoes and onions, opting for just lettuce, carrots, and cucumbers. She watches you closely as you take the lasagna out of the oven and you swear you see her drool a little bit.

“So,” Harry says after you and Mona have fixed your plates. “Your birthday’s comin’ up, Mo.”

Mona shoves a big forkful of lasagna in her mouth, wiping her mouth with a paper towel before speaking. “Yeah, two days.” She has a big smile on her face. “I’m so excited, dad. Did you and mom look into that place I showed you? For dinner?”

“Yeah, about that,” Harry takes a sip of water. “Y’sure you just want a dinner? No party? Your mum and I can put together a party for you last minute with no problem, bub.”

“Dad, I already told you that I’m not really into parties like that.”

“But you’re turnin’ seventeen.”

“How is it any different from sixteen?”

“Mo–”

“Harry,” you interrupt, placing your hand over his. “It’s her birthday. If she just wants a nice dinner with us then so be it.”

“Actually…” your daughter looks between the both of you. “I wanted to know if I could bring a friend.”

“‘Course y’can, Mo,” Harry’s eyes light up. “You can bring as many people as you want, darlin’. Jus’ lemme know ahead of time so I can make the reservations…” He trails off, already making a mental note to ask his assistant about making reservations for Mona’s restaurant of choice.

“Well,” Mona begins picking at her cuticles, one of her nervous habits. “It’s just one friend. Uh, a boy. I mean, I guess he’s more than a friend. He’s kinda like, my boyfriend?” Your daughter has a giddy look on her face, but it’s quickly replaced with that of fear when she sees the incredulous look her father has.

“A boyfriend? You have a boyfriend, Mona?” he slams his fork down on his plate. “Since when? What did your mum and I tell you about dating?”

“I don’t know dad, it’s new! Why do I have to wait until I’m in college to date but you and mom have been together since you were my age? How is that fair?” Your daughter is staring back at your husband, beyond irritated.

“I know what sixteen-year-old boys are like, Mo! I was one!” Harry raises his voice. “Absolutely not, Mona. You’re not allowed to date and he’s not allowed to join us.”

“He’s seventeen, for your information. And anyway, I’m sure sixteen-year-old boys are different today than they were fifty years ago,” your daughter retorts, standing up and grabbing her plate of food. “I’m eating in my room. You’re being annoying.”

“I just turned forty and you know it, Mona,” Harry calls after her. Your daughter says nothing in response and you’re met with the sound of her door slamming shortly after. Harry looks at you in disbelief. 

“Did you not hear anything our daughter just said, Y/N?” the vein in his forehead is prominent and you know your husband is just as upset as Mona is.

“I did,” you start slowly, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. “I mean, she has a point. Why did we decide she wasn’t allowed to date until college when we were together at her age?”

“Y/N,” Harry says, clearly annoyed. “We were jus’ talkin’ about the shit we used to get into when we were her age. Isn’t that what bein’ a parent is? Not wanting your kid to make the same bad choices as you did?”

You scoff at your husband. “So now you’re saying our being together was a bad choice?”

“Love, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Harry,” you sigh. “We can’t shelter her forever. That’s not fair to her. She needs to go out and make mistakes and have fun and figure things out for herself. Who knows, this boy could be the man she–”

“Please don’t,” Harry cuts you off, knowing what you were getting at. “I don’t even want to think about that.”

“Harry, I think you know that we need to give this guy a chance. We can’t make any judgments until we meet him for ourselves, and I think Mo’s birthday dinner would be the perfect time to do that.”

“But Y/N,” your husband whines, clearly completely against the idea. “I don’t wanna encourage it.”

“You’re being a child,” you tell him, annoyance lacing your voice. “Mona’s bringing her boyfriend to her birthday dinner and that’s that. If we meet him and he’s just a terrible human being, then we can re-visit this conversation. If you don’t think you can be an adult and be supportive of our daughter’s relationship, just keep it to yourself.”

“Y/N–”

“I’m eating dinner somewhere else, too,” you tell him, standing up from the table and grabbing your plate. “You can join me when you want to be a mature adult. Oh, and apologize to our daughter.”

“Love–”

Slam!

The tension in your household is thick in the two days leading up to your daughter’s birthday. Whenever Harry enters a room she’s in she quickly leaves, not wanting to talk to her father. Harry doesn’t make any effort to speak to her, either. Harry upsetting your daughter, in turn, makes you upset with him. You find yourself much quicker to snap at him than you usually are. He busies himself with work to distract himself from the fact that both of you are pissed at him.

On the morning of your daughter’s birthday, there’s still tension, but you and Harry try to put it aside for the sake of Mona. 

“Happy birthday to you,” Harry sings quietly as you enter your daughter’s bedroom, a big stack of pancakes with a ‘17’ candle stuck in the top in your hands. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dearest Mona, happy birthday to you.”

You both sit on the edge of your daughter’s bed as she groans, pulling her comforter up higher over her head. “You guys, it’s so early.”

“Mona, don’t be a grouch! You’re seventeen today,” you hand Harry the plate of pancakes, pulling her covers down. “C’mon missy, make a wish.”

Mona sits up and tries to give you both her best annoyed-face but you know she’s not actually mad, far too excited about her birthday, and the day ahead of her. She was just telling you the night before how happy she was that her birthday fell on a Saturday this year, too.

She closes her eyes for a brief second before blowing out the candles on her birthday pancakes. “Thanks, mom and dad. I feel like things have been a little bit, I dunno, weird? Since I told you about Noah. I really love you both though. I’m sorry I didn’t talk about things with you first.”

Harry leans over to place a kiss on the top of her head. “‘M sorry I blew up on ya like that, princess. It’s jus’ hard for me to know you’re growin’ up. Your happiness is the most important thing in this world to me though so if he makes you happy, I’m gonna give him a chance.”

You smile at the sweet moment between your husband and daughter. At the end of the day, your daughter was a huge daddy’s girl and although you gave both of them a hard time about it, nothing made your heart more full than their special bond.

“Dad, you’ll seriously love him. He’s literally so funny,” she gushes and Harry just nods, taking a bite of her pancakes. “He’ll even laugh at your dad jokes. Like, he thinks shit like that is funny.”

“Language, Mo,” Harry warns. “He really likes dad jokes, though?” Your husband sounds a little too hopeful, causing you to giggle.

“Yeah, dad. He always tries to tell me his jokes and I’m just like, ‘Ew, stop! You sound like my dad!’. Oh, he loves One Direction by the way.”

“What about my solo stuff?”

“He thinks it’s cool,” she says nonchalantly, causing you to stifle more laugher. Harry continues nibbling on her pancakes, a troubled look on his face. “Can you guys go out while I change? I’ll be downstairs in like, two seconds.”

“Sure thing, Mo,” you tell your daughter, taking her plate of pancakes from Harry before he eats them all. “Do you want me to make your coffee or anything?”

“It’s okay, mom. Noah said he was gonna drop off coffee for me this morning,” she looks down, a small smile on her face. “I guess you and dad can meet him before dinner then if you want?”

You see Harry tense up slightly out of the corner of your eye but he surprises you by staying calm. “Sounds great, poppet. Your mum and I will be downstairs.” He places a quick peck on your daughter’s cheek and quickly walks out of her room, leaving you to follow after him.

“You okay?” you ask him quietly once you’re out of earshot of your daughter’s room. He nods quickly.

“Yeah love, all is well,” he assures, but his facial expression says otherwise. 

“I’m sure Mona was just giving you a hard time. I’m sure Noah enjoys your solo stuff just like anyone else does.” You try to reassure your husband, standing on your toes to give him a kiss. You feel Harry smiling into the kiss and you pull back, a look of confusion on your face. “What’s wrong?”

“S’not that, love,” he says. “I jus’ wasn’t ready to meet him now. Thought I had all day to mentally prepare.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” you warn, moving to pour yourself a cup of coffee. “Please don’t do anything to embarrass her.”

“I know, Y/N,” Harry says exasperatedly. “I’m not that terrible. I know how to control–”

“He’s here,” your daughter informs the both of you as she runs down the stairs and hurries by. You catch a whiff of the expensive Gucci perfume Harry got you a couple of years prior and you make a mental note to tell Harry to pick her up a bottle of her own when he gets the chance.

Harry’s face is a little pale and if you didn’t know any better, you’d of thought he just saw a ghost. “Are you okay, H? It’ll be okay.” You rub small circles on his back. Your daughter flings open the door and immediately envelops her boyfriend in a tight hug and you can’t help but let out an audible, ‘aw’. He has balloons, coffee, donuts, and a card that you’re sure your daughter will never let either one of you ever read.

She invites him inside, bouncing from excitement and what you assumed to be nerves. “Mom, dad. This is Noah.”

He immediately extends his hand, nearly dropping Mona’s coffee in the process. He chuckles nervously and quickly hands it to her before holding his hand out again. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. It’s, um, it’s nice to meet you both. Uh, thank you for allowing me to join in on Mo’s birthday dinner tonight.” 

You reach out to shake his hand and give him a warm smile. “It’s so nice to meet you, Noah. Please, call me Y/N– I feel like Mrs. Styles kinda makes me sound a bit old.” Mona rolls her eyes at this, taking a sip at her coffee. There’s an awkward silence and you nudge Harry, waiting for him to say something.

“Mr. Styles is fine with me. It’s great to meet you, Noah,” Harry says gruffly. Noah nods and looks over at Mona, clearly uncomfortable. 

“We’re gonna go upstairs,” she informs you, grabbing Noah’s hand and leading the way.

“Door stays open,” Harry calls after her. “Don’t let me come upstairs and see your door’s closed, Mona.”

Your daughter turns to look at you, widening her eyes in embarrassment. You shake your head at Harry and go back to fixing your cup of coffee. “Harry, you’re so horrible. I’d be mortified if I was them.”

“Good. That’s what I was tryin’ to do,” he goes next to you and picks up your coffee mug, taking a sip. “S’good. Can I have this one?”

“Harry!” you give him an amused look. “Make your own cup!”

“You make it taste so good though, love,” Harry gives you that look that he knows you can never say no to, and you sigh before giving in and handing him the cup of coffee you just made.

“Whatever happens with Mo and Noah, I hope he’s not as big of a fuckin’ pest as you are.”

“This place is amazing,” you tell your husband, completely in awe. You were out to dinner at the tallest rooftop restaurant in all of Los Angeles, seventy-three floors above the ground. You could look out and see the entire city and although you were normally terrified of heights, the view left you speechless.

“Mo’s the one that picked it,” he tells you, leaning over to whisper in your ear. He has his arm slung around you as he gently rubs your shoulder. “Gonna drink with me tonight, hm? They got some fancy soundin’ drinks on this menu.”

“One drink,” you emphasize. “I don’t wanna wake up with a hangover.”

“Mom, isn’t this place so cool? Can you take a picture of us?” your daughter hands you her phone, leaning closer to Noah. You feel Harry tense beside you but he doesn’t say anything.

“It’s very cool, Mona. I think you have expensive taste like your dad,” you joke, holding up her phone. “Okay, one, two, three.”

You snap multiple pictures of your daughter, remembering how she always told you that the only way to take pictures was to take at least twenty at a time to leave options open when deciding which picture to post on Instagram. You hand the phone back to Mona and she thanks you, analyzing the pictures with her boyfriend. Their heads are touching and your expression softens as you think back to how you and Harry always found reasons to be close to each other when you were your daughter’s age.

The night goes beautifully. Your daughter has a big smile on her face the entire time and Harry even refrains from being unnecessarily overprotective, opting to let Mona enjoy herself and be close to her boyfriend. The more drinks he throws back the more he engages in conversation with Noah, even answering his burning questions about One Direction.

When the waitress comes around to give Mona her slice of birthday cake and sing ‘Happy Birthday’ with the wait staff your husband is singing the loudest, slightly off-tune due to how inebriated he was. Your daughter laughs, hiding her face in her hands.

“Mom, dad’s being embarrassing,” she groans. You know she’s not actually mad but you nudge him, warning him to knock it off.

As you’re getting ready to leave, Harry tells everyone to wait, hiccuping before speaking. “Wait. I’ve got somethin’ to say.” He’s slurring slightly and you laugh, signaling for your daughter and Noah to sit back down.

“Noah,” Harry starts. Mona gives you a worried look and you’re debating whether or not you should interrupt Harry, not knowing what he was going to say. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been lookin’ at Mo all night and makin’ her laugh. Swear she hasn’t stopped smilin’ since we got here. I like that, Noah.” You decide not to interrupt your husband’s drunken rambling. 

“Thank you, sir–”

“I had my doubts at first,” he continues on, taking another sip of his drink. “What dad wouldn’t? She’s my baby girl. Don’t care if she’s seventeen, she’ll be my baby ‘til the day I die. You make her so happy though, and I appreciate that.” He holds up his finger, gesturing for them to give him a second while he thinks about his next words.

“Don’t call me sir, makes me sound old. Call me Harry.”

[pirate-au]

A Pirate's Life for a Prince (Part 6)

Summary: Roman was a dashing Captain, content with his exciting life out at sea, diving head first into adventure both on and off land. He wouldn't give up his life for anything, and yet he found himself...lacking something. He was never sure what.

When he meets Virgil, a seemingly common traveler in an old tavern, that lacking feeling in his chest goes away for the first time in a long while. So surely there's no harm in offering the stranger and his friend a ride, right?

Notes: Thank you again to @cheshirevalentine for helping with editing and the descriptions of sword fighting, They've got a side blog for this au, go check out @actorau

TW: a little blood and injury and really gay pining

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Virgil had no idea what he was supposed to be doing.

Roman was frowning at him, watching Virgil with scrutinizing eyes before sheathing his own sword at his side.

“Have you never held a sword before?” he asked, his hands on his hips. “It’s like you’re afraid of it.”

Virgil huffed, lowering the sword that was steadily becoming embarrassingly heavy to his side, cheeks burning red with shame under Roman's judgment. “I don’t know what you think I was doing in that palace, but it wasn’t sword fighting.”

“But I thought you were raised as a prince.”

Virgil had asked before, once or twice when he was much younger, but it had been shut down almost immediately, and the request had never even made it to his Uncle. He would never be the dashing Prince who charged into battle, brandishing a sword like it was nothing. That wasn’t the kind of prince they wanted him to be.

“Whatever.” Virgil would really rather not discuss this right now, especially not here. “Why are we even doing this?”

“Because you have to learn to defend yourself,” Roman said simply, moving around Virgil to check his stance. “I won’t always be here to save the day, you know. Now, lift your sword again. I’ll fix your hold.”

Roman was behind him, making Virgil’s shoulders tense instinctively, but he forced himself to relax and do what he was told.

“Come on,” Roman urged as Virgil lifted the sword. “I promise this will help you feel more secure.”

Virgil rolled his eyes when Roman moved back around, mostly to cover up how uneasy and inadequate he felt. He wasn't exactly excited to show off how weak he was to a pirate Captain who had already seen him cry twice.

“Running away has worked out pretty well so far,” Virgil said, but kept the sword lifted all the same. “I’m not gonna be any good at this.”

“You don't know that," Roman said quietly, moving beside Virgil. He moved to help him hold the sword and hesitated, awkwardly maneuvering his hands as if he wasn't sure how to place them around Virgil's. “Uh… my apologies. Is it alright if I touch you?”

Virgil only hesitated a second, forcibly shoving down the panic rising against his will. It was just Roman, and Roman had made it clear that he wouldn’t hurt him. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Alright then.” Roman moved slowly, clearly trying not to spook Virgil, placing himself behind the prince once again and gently wrapping his warm hands around Virgil’s own. The weight of the sword lifted considerably with his help. “The way I was taught was rather… untraditional. It’s easier to teach like this.”

Virgil nodded, trying to focus on keeping his breathing steady. “So… where did you learn to sword fight?”

“My brother and I learned a long time ago,” Roman said, curt in the way that told Virgil the Captain would prefer to discuss anything else. “Anyways. I’ll teach you to block and parry first.”

Virgil wanted to apologize for prying, but it was already hard enough to form words with the feeling of Roman’s hands encasing his own, his chest rising and falling against Virgil’s back. He had the sudden, ridiculous urge to close his eyes and lean back against the steady warmth.

“Uh, ok,” he said instead, forcing himself to focus. “Just… be patient with me I guess. I’m kind of a slow learner, so… sorry in advance.”

“Nonsense,” the Captain chided. “You’ll do fine.”

Virgil nodded, his breathing still a bit uneven as he let Roman move his hands to the Prince’s wrists. He guided his arms, first to slowly swing up to block at his left shoulder, and then down.

"When you block, you want to make sure your assailant isn't pushing you back,” he said. “On a ship, that could be the difference between being cast overboard or staying dry." He dropped a hand to pat Virgil's left hip. "It's best to step forward after that, preferably with your non-dominant leg. It will give you a stable base to attack on, so make sure your weight is centered."

Virgil was doing his absolute best to listen to what Roman was saying, but to be fair he was pretty sure he was going to suck at this whether he could comprehend the instructions or not.

But Roman was still holding his hand, warm and strong, and when the Captain moved to touch his hip Virgil could only respond with a slightly panicked, "Okay."

“To attack,” Roman continued, his voice a gentle murmur in Virgil’s ear. “Take another step with your other leg and swing forward-” He stepped with Virgil, guiding their arms to swing at their invisible assailant. "Your sword is an extension of your arm. You don't want to overextend and throw yourself off balance, that will give your opponent a chance to swing at you. Now, back-” He stepped back, gently pulling Virgil with him. "Block, forward, attack, back."

Virgil couldn’t breathe, something he was unfortunately used to, but for once it didn’t feel like a bad thing.

The panic wasn't all consuming and cold, it was warm and it made him feel lightheaded and distant. Roman was up against him, guiding his movements, and although he knew he probably looked absolutely pathetic holding the sword, in the moment it felt like he could do anything.

Other than Patton, no one had ever been so gentle with him. It had been so long since he’d been touched without the intention to hurt.

“Once more,” Roman instructed. “Block, forward, attack, back. Look at you! You’re doing amazing already.”

Virgil’s face grew hot, chest light at the praise. It took him a moment to find his voice, choked and unsteady. “I… thank you.”

“Now we pick up the pace,” Roman said, slowly starting to increase their speed. “You’re doing so well. Just a bit faster now and then I’ll let you try it on your own.”

After a moment of the back and forth, the two almost dancing in the afternoon sun, Virgil closed his eyes for just a second, basking in the warm glow, the feeling of Roman’s hands over his, content and safe.

“Now,” Roman said softly. “Can you show me?”

Virgil’s eyes snapped open, reality slamming back into him as Roman stepped away and the sword momentarily wobbled in the air, the Prince struggling to keep it upright by himself.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He hesitated, face burning for an entirely new reason this time. God, he was so stupid. He could vaguely recall the movements, but… he'd just end up looking like an idiot if he tried it by himself. "Sorry, uh… could you let me watch you first? Sorry I'm just… kind of slow sometimes."

“You’re not slow,” Roman assured, sending Virgil a patient smile. “Some people are visual learners, it's only a matter of preference. I'm a kinesthetic learner, so I have to do it, rather than see it."

Virgil shrugged, still not fully convinced he wasn’t just stupid. “I guess.”

Roman unsheathed his own practice sword and lifted it, turning so he was parallel to where Virgil was standing, and began the back and forth.

“Block, forward, attack, back,” he said, repeating the motions twice, faster the second time. "Ideally, a fight isn't so tense and scripted. You have to learn to think on your feet. And always, always play dirty. A fair fight is sure to get you killed." He lowered his sword, facing Virgil with a smile. "Ready?"

Slightly stunned by how patient Roman was, Virgil nodded and took a shaky breath. The Captain’s patience was bound to run out soon if he didn’t hurry up and get this right.

“I’m ready.”

He began to copy Roman’s movements- block, forward, attack, back. He knew it looked clumsy and ridiculous, and not even close to what Roman was expecting. The sword still felt heavy and foreign in his hands, and he turned sheepishly to the Captain when he was finished, fully prepared to apologize for doing so poorly.

But Roman was smiling at him, wide and genuine. He sheathed his own sword again, placing his hands on his hips.

“You learn quickly!” he praised. “This particular style requires a lot of physical conditioning. Your abdomen, back, wrists, and hands all need conditioning if you're to properly hold your sword. Though, I'm sure we have a rapier around here somewhere that may better suit you."

Virgil furrowed his brow. “A rapier?”

“Something smaller,” Roman explained, eyes softening. “It might be a bit easier for you. Logan prefers lighter weapons, as well.”

“Oh,” Virgil said, arms already growing sore from the strain of the sword. “Maybe.”

“We’ll save that for later,” Roman said. “For now, I need you to take the rhythm you just learned, and I need you to forget it. Falling into a rhythm can mean spacing out, and without the utmost concentration, you're dead. Now! Make like you're going to attack me.”

Roman didn’t move, didn't even unsheathe his sword, and Virgil frowned when he just stood there, waiting expectantly.

“Uh… okay?” He cautiously positioned the sword again and pointed it at Roman, the Captain still unarmed. “Like this?”

Roman nodded, looking Virgil over carefully. "Widen your stance. For you… I think it's best to stave on the balls of your feet. I believe I've been teaching you how I was taught, and since our body types are so different..."

He trailed off, smiling dropping into a small frown, eyebrows drawn together as he studied Virgil’s stance.

"Don't focus so hard on grounding yourself,” Roman instructed. He finally took his blade out with a flourish, spinning it once before he widened his stance, holding his sword at the ready. "Attack me.”

“I- what?” Virgil wasn’t sure if he was more worried about hurting Roman, or Roman hurting him. The latter seemed more likely. “I’m not gonna… I can’t just start stabbing at you!”

“You can,” Roman declared, shifting eagerly on the balls of his feet. “That’s how you learn. I won’t bite, I promise. Now, attack me! If you hesitate in battle, your foe won’t hesitate to take your life.”

“I guess,” Virgil relented. “Okay.”

He pushed down the lingering uneasiness, both from the sight of a much larger man holding a sword in front of him, and the off chance that he might actually end up hurting the Captain. Virgil moved forward, still hesitant, moving to attack slowly with no real intent to hit.

Roman was silent and still, holding his sword at the ready. He stepped forward to intercept Virgil's blade, twisting his own to knock the handle out of Virgil's grip. His sword clattered to the ground between them and Roman took a step back.

“You can do better,” the Captain said. “We both saw it. Again.”

Virgil reached down to pick up the weapon off the ground, keeping his eyes on Roman and the weapon in his hand. "What if I… accidentally stab you?"

“I’ve been stabbed before,” Roman said, clearly biting back a rising smile. “And you’re a fragile ex-prince who’s never held a sword before. I’m not worried.”

Virgil scowled, hoping his embarrassed flush wasn't as obvious as it felt. He still hesitated, this time with a bit more force. “Well, if you’ve gotten stabbed clearly you can’t be that good.”

“Right, and clearly you’re so talented.” Roman parried this time, stepping forward to smack the blade back. “Again. Harder, this time. You’re not going to hurt me, Virgil.”

"What if I do?" Virgil shot back, unable to stop a smile as he attacked again, still keeping his movements a bit slow. "What will people say if you get stabbed by someone who’s never even held a sword?"

"That I was viciously attacked by a vengeful Prince and did nothing wrong," Roman huffed, smacking the blade away once more. "Faster. I can keep up."

"You sure?" Virgil asked, more teasing than anything as he finally let himself relax just a bit, moving forward to attack once again.

“Move faster and we’ll see.”

The friendly banter took some of the tension away, Virgil smiling despite himself, feeling lighter by the second.

Virgil's movements were still definitely a bit more frantic than they needed to be, shoulders tensing as he moved his sword up, glancing hopefully up at Roman when he blocked the attack.

“Good!” Roman said, beaming. “Try not to panic, it’ll make you lose focus. Try again.”

Right. Try not to panic. That was easier said than done, especially when it came to Virgil, who could never seem to react any other way.

But the praise made him feel lighter than ever, and he smiled with a tiny nod before stepping back to try again.

“You’re doing good. Keep it up, don’t stop-” Roman parried and returned the next blow. “Pick up the speed. Push me back!”

Virgil managed to keep his movements a little less panicked this time, taking deep breaths like Patton had taught him and moved to attack again, faster this time as instructed.

"You sure you can keep up, Captain?" he teased with confidence he didn't feel in the slightest, smiling with his eyes still on the swords.

To his relief Roman’s smile only grew, the Captain taking another step forward to block again. “Eyes on me. Watch the weapons, but if you can see where I'm looking you can see where I'm attacking."

Virgil managed not to completely freak out when he blocked Roman’s next attack, still a bit more tense than he knew the Captain would have liked.

It was almost impossible to keep his eyes on Roman, cheeks growing hot whenever the Captain met his eyes, forcing himself to avert his gaze.

Virgil really did not need to be distracted by the blush spreading across his cheeks and the butterflies in his stomach as he moved to attack again.

Roman laughed, Virgil’s eyes lighting up when he nearly lowered his sword before he could block Virgil’s attack. “Come on handsome, eyes up here.”

“I’m trying!”

Roman took another step forward, swiping down towards Virgil’s leg. “When you can’t block, move!”

Virgil just barely managed to scramble out of the blade's way, and he was sure if Roman had moved any faster he would have lost a leg.

“Jesus!” His face was burning red now, both from the teasing and his own sloppy moves. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Roman's grin only grew as he took a step back, spinning his sword. "No, I'm trying to prepare you. Distractions happen. Now come on beautiful, one more time."

Oh, this was so not fair. Virgil’s blush depended, but he forced himself not to look away this time when he attacked. “Careful, or I’m actually going to stab you.”

“I’ve got the experience, darling,” Roman bragged, though he barely got his sword up in time to block Virgil’s strike. “You can’t hurt me.”

Virgil laughed, ignoring the way his cheeks burned at the nickname. He was going to die here. “Whatever you say, Captain.”

Virgil had no idea how long they went on like this for, time nothing but a distant blur, overshadowed by the warm excitement bubbling in his chest. His cheeks burned bright when he eventually managed to start meeting Roman’s eyes, the Captain sending him a teasing smile.

He should have noticed Roman had gotten distracted, should have realized he’d started moving just a bit slower than he had been when they first started.

But he didn’t, and Roman’s sword didn’t move up to block Virgil's next attack.

Roman gasped when the blade cut into his bicep, ripping through the cloth and drawing blood immediately, and the Captain quickly smacked the blade away with the end of his own sword.

"Holy shit!" Virgil dropped the sword without thinking, wincing when it clattered to the ground. He moved towards Roman, stopping in his tracks when he saw how much blood there was. "I… shit, Roman I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, I- I wasn't paying attention I'm so sorry!"

Roman looked back up at Virgil, raising an eyebrow at the Prince’s panic.

“I stand corrected,” he said, voice more awed than annoyed or angry. “It turns out you can stab me. Well done.”

“Well done?” Virgil echoed. “I hurt you!”

“It’s fine, Virgil. I’m barely bleeding. I wasn’t paying attention, this is just the consequence.” He looked back to his wound, lifting his arm to inspect it. “Would you mind grabbing Logan for me, though? He should be up on the bridge.”

Virgil nodded and scrambled back, carefully stepping over the swords, grateful for the excuse to get away. It at least meant Roman wasn't angry enough to lash out.

Unless that was Logan's job.

Virgil’s head was spinning and his hands were shaking, but he forced himself to keep going, rushing to the bridge.

The relief was almost crushing when he saw Patton, leaned up against the wall as he chatted with Logan, the two of them lost in quiet conversation. Virgil hadn’t been sure he could handle being alone with Logan, especially when it ran the risk of making him angry.

“Virgil?” Patton called, concern rising as soon as he saw the young Prince. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

“I…” Virgil hesitated, eyes glued to Logan. “Roman he- he got hurt. With his sword, it… it was my fault and- and he asked for you. I’m… I’m sorry, I—”

Logan was already starting forward with a sigh, freezing when Virgil flinched back at the sudden movement, arms wrapped protectively around himself, eyes flying instinctively to Patton.

“I’m going to go check on Roman,” Logan explained, keeping his voice low. “I’m not angry with you. Whatever happened was clearly an accident.”

Virgil nodded, still a bit frantic and shaky, stepping aside to let Logan through. Patton moved to follow, pausing to place a gentle hand on Virgil’s hunched shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, the words meant just for the two of them. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Virgil shook his head, grateful beyond words Patton had decided to stay. “I’m fine I just… I- I didn’t mean to hurt him we were just—”

“I know, honey.” Pat squeezed his shoulder, sending a reassuring smile. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you, V. Come on, let’s go see if they need any help.”

They followed Logan back to the deck where Roman was waiting, letting the first mate make a quick stop for a first-aid kit, and Virgil averted his gaze when Roman straightened up at their arrival.

“My valiant knight in black armor,” the Captain greeted, offering his bloody arm to Logan. “Hello, Logan. How has your day been?”

Logan sighed, carefully taking a hold of the injured arm and lowering himself to a crouch. “What on earth are you and Virgil doing?”

“I was teaching Virgil how to use a sword!” Roman announced, and he was beaming when Virgil risked a glance up. “Isn’t he doing great already? I didn’t think he could hit me at all, but here we are!”

Roman rocked back and forth as he talked, gesturing with his free hand, and Logan tightened his grip. “Stay still, please.”

It was clearly a pointless venture, Virgil hadn’t seen Roman sit still once since he’d come aboard, but the Captain nodded and settled for tapping his hands against the floor. He winced when Logan touched the wound but didn't shy away, letting a hissing breath of pain out.

“He’s doing great,” Roman declared again, leaning back slightly to look at Virgil. “You are, you know. This is good progress.”

Virgil tensed, warily glancing between Roman and Logan despite the fact that neither of them seemed inclined to chew him out or make a move to strike him just yet. “I stabbed you. I literally stabbed you!”

“You did!” Roman said, ecstatic. “That’s the whole point! You did it, you got me! And I’m barely even hurt, don’t worry about it.”

Logan sighed again, reaching with his free hand for the rest of the medical supplies as Roman's blood began to soak through the first rag. Virgil looked away, even as he blushed under Roman's praise.

"But I… you’re not mad?”

“Not at all,” Roman assured. “I told you to attack me, didn't I? Sometimes people get hurt when you spar, this was a learning opportunity!" He paused, glancing down at Logan. “I’m bleeding quite a lot, aren’t I? Should I be worried about that?”

“You will be fine,” Logan said, not looking up. “The cut is shallow. Virgil did not land a fatal blow, though I can imagine the temptation was there.”

It startled a laugh out of Virgil, and Roman gave an offended gasp. “He would never! He’s a very good friend, much more so than someone I know.”

“Stay still.”

Roman scowled at his first mate, then winced in pain as he continued to tend to the wound. “It really is okay, Virgil. I’ve been stabbed worse by far more terrible foes, I promise.”

“You seem to have a habit of getting stabbed,” Virgil said, voice still a bit shaky. He relaxed a little when Patton put a hand on his shoulder. “And here I thought you were a master.”

“Even masters occasionally get stabbed. This is nothing,” Roman boasted. “Do I need stitches, Lo? That part does hurt, and I’d recommend not watching if you don’t have a thick stomach.”

Virgil did feel a bit sick at the thought, though it was more the idea of the Captain being in pain because of him than the stitches. The blood didn't bother him all that much- he'd had to get Patton to patch him up like this plenty of times in the past.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I can stay if you need someone to hold your hand.”

It had been a joke, nothing more than teasing, and Virgil absolutely was not half hoping Roman would take him up on the offer.

But Roman grinned, something mischievous in his eyes. He lifted his free hand and wiggled his fingers at Virgil. “Well then you’d better come comfort me, Prince Dreary.”

Virgil was going to kill him. His face flushed again, cheeks on fire. He had no idea how Roman kept managing to fluster him like this, but he wasn’t about to give the Captain the satisfaction of seeing it.

He rolled his eyes as he stepped forward, effortlessly slipping his hand into Roman’s and smirking. “Better?”

“Much,” Roman hummed, and Virgil saw Logan roll his eyes. The Captain just smiled, his thumb stroking gentle lines along the back of Virgil’s hand. “Your hands are very small, you know. Soft, though.”

It was quiet musing, gentle and kind, but Virgil's chest squeezed painfully, suddenly very aware of how much smaller he was than the other three men on the deck, shame and anxiety rising to his throat.

“Yeah okay,” he muttered, gaze dropping back down to the floor. “Maybe your hands are just huge, Roman.”

“I’m not complaining,” Roman said, but his smile softened like he had picked up on Virgil’s discomfort. “They’re soft. Cold as hell, but that’s only fitting for Peter Deadpan, I suppose.”

Virgil scoffed, but his face felt warm, and his smile was quickly becoming more relaxed again. “Well, I didn’t grow up playing with swords like you did. Royal life is kinda boring compared to the life of a pirate.”

“I don’t know,” Roman mused, and he shared an odd look with his first mate. “Royal life can be exciting too. It’s just… a different kind of excitement.”

Logan snorted, peeling the blood soaked cloth away from dark skin. “You would know.”

Roman winced, squeezing Virgil’s hand. “That was years ago, Logan. It’s possible it’s gotten more exciting since then.”

“I’m sure.”

Wait, what?

Virgil didn’t get a chance to ask the questions on the tip of his tongue before Roman huffed, tilting his head to inspect what was left of the wound. “Are you almost done, oh gracious healer?”

“You don’t need stitches, Captain,” Logan said, unamused. “But you’re more than welcome to keep holding the Prince’s hand if you’d like.”

Roman just glared, clearly biting back a smile as Logan gathered up bandages from his first aid kit, still keeping a firm hold on Roman’s arm.

Virgil squeezed Roman’s hand without thinking, scrambling for the right words. “You… you were a royal?”

“A long time ago, yes.” Roman’s smile faded, his thumb going back to tracing soothing lines on Virgil’s hand before he could feel guilty for opening his mouth. “Far from here, I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t know of me.”

“What kingdom?”

“Lucoria,” Roman said softly. “It’s due East, months away. We’re far from it.”

Virgil nodded, fighting not to lose himself to the flood of memories as he thought back to the history practically forced down his throat since he was a child. He’d heard of Lucoria, could vaguely recall rumors and stories, but history had never really been his strong suit. He’d never really been interested in the past, anyway.

But he could see the tension Roman was failing to hide, and he quickly squeezed the Captain’s hand once more, offering what he hoped was a gentle smile

“I’m glad you got out,” Virgil said, eyes glued to Roman, unable to look away. “It doesn’t seem like you’d enjoy that life.”

Roman returned Virgil's smile easily, tilting his head. "Like I said, it’s a lot more free. It wasn’t… all my choice, but once you're out there's no way you can go back. Leaving was the best thing I could have done."

“Well… thank you,” Virgil said quietly, the rest of the world melting away for just a moment. “For letting me leave too.”

Roman’s eyes widened and his cheeks flushed, and for the first time since Virgil had met him, Roman was completely still. “Anything for you.”

For what felt like an eternity neither of them moved, everything almost magically quiet. And then Roman hissed in pain, whirling around and yanking on his injured arm, shattering the moment.

“Ow, you—”

“There you are, Captain,” Logan announced, ignoring Roman’s outburst and cutting the rest of the bandage. “Try to be more careful next time.”

Roman winced and pulled his arm away from Logan, scowling. Virgil glanced at Patton, the older man watching them all carefully, expression worried but guarded.

“Yes, yes,” Roman said, the Captain practically pouting. “We’ll be more careful.”

Virgil hesitated to let go of Roman’s hand, eyes now on his freshly bandaged arm. “I’m sorry, again. For hurting you.”

“It’s okay,” Roman assured. “Though, I do think it’s best that we stop for the day. But we can pick this up anytime.”

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. Today had entailed more physical activity than he’d ever had in his life, his ribs and chest starting to ache now that the adrenaline was starting to fade. “Sounds good, Captain.”

Logan practically had to drag Roman away, guiding the Captain back to the bridge while Patton gently took Virgil by the shoulder and steered them both back to their quarters.

Virgil went willingly, leaning into Patton’s familiar touch, but it took a while for the pleasant warmth to disappear from Virgil’s cheeks.

And if he couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot for the rest of the afternoon, Patton was gracious enough not to point it out.

Taglist: @i-really-like-dragons @stitches-system @poettheythem @remy-the-lemon-berry @shrubs-and-bushes @i-sexually-identify-as-a-mistake @wordsmithandworm @the-dead-and-the-decaying @hope340 @winterwynd @thomas-sanders-tothe-standers @angstysunshine @sunshineandteddybears @pixelated-pineapple @fire-and-ash67 @blues-clues-oh-wait @shinekittenace @marrymebishop @all-panic-nodisco @ravenclawunicorn1 @someoneiwasnt @listenherebuddypal @aroace-energy @iinyxtello

[happysoldlady]

Still - Part 2 - Angel Reyes

a/n: you ask, you shall receive. I have so many things in my drafts right now it’s stupid bruh. y’all enjoy this though! I might do a third, makeup sex part. I haven’t decided yet. 

taglist: @woahitslucyylu​ @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly​ @peaches007​ @cocotheclown​

warning(s): sad boi angel, alcohol use

It had been two whole weeks since you had last spoken to Angel. Two weeks. You hadn’t gone that long without seeing each other since you were very small, and not that long without fucking each other since you were about sixteen. But you were angry. And betrayed, kind of. Angel had never been able to step up for you, and be the guy you needed him to be. And you didn’t feel like you were asking for much.

Angel, on the other hand, felt like you were asking for too much. Suddenly wanting to change something that had worked for the two of you for over a decade. He didn’t understand why you needed commitment from him all of a sudden, and he didn’t understand what this new guy had that he didn’t. Angel had been under the impression for years that the two of you understood that the relationship thing never really works out. You had tried it before, and it always went up in flames.

What Angel didn’t understand, though, is that this new guy gave you the relationship that you and Angel could never have. He gave you early morning sex and afternoon picnics. He gave you thoughtfulness and commitment. He gave you all the pieces that were missing from your relationship with Angel. Not that Angel couldn’t give you those things, because you knew first hand how sweet Angel could be. It’s that he wouldn’t do it. And how could you turn down the relationship in front of you for the relationship that one day might be something more?

So, it’s been two weeks. Because afternoon picnics and surprise hiking trips were occupying all of your time. But even sitting in the sun eating grapes with the man offering you everything, Angel Ignacio Reyes was at the forefront of your mind. And in your true nature, you find yourself knocking on his door later that night. 

You had a bottle of wine in one hand, and a clenched fist in the other which you used to knock on his door. Once upon a time, you had a key, but after walking in on him and other girls on several different occasions, you decided that knocking would probably prevent you from getting your feelings hurt. It takes a couple seconds before you hear Angel’s heavy footsteps coming toward the door, and you’re just hoping he isn’t preoccupied with another one of his distractions. 

The door swings open and you’re met with the shirtless (and beautiful, you must admit) man that you’ve adored for half of your life. 

“Y/N?” Angel’s eyes widen a little, confused. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?” Angel hates that he kind of hopes your new boyfriend fucked up somehow. 

“Yeah. No, I’m fine. I just-” You shrug and hold up the bottle of wine in your hand. “I needed a drinking buddy.” You were lying. You knew it, Angel knew it, the bottle of wine knew it. You could drink with anyone, but the truth is, you had a lot you needed to say to Angel and you weren’t sure you could get it all out without a couple glasses of your favorite wine. 

Angel eyes you for a minute, thinking very seriously about returning the favor of you slamming the door in his face, but he’s missed you. So he opens the door wide, and gives you a glimpse of a smile as you stroll through it. 

“You can keep that shit. I’ll drink a beer.” He mutters, admiring the way you throw your head back as you laugh at him. 

- 

“Come on, Angel!” You shriek. “Just one sip. I swear it’s good.” 

“Am I really supposed to trust your judgment?” Angel shoots, scrunching his nose at you as you hold up your half-full glass of wine near his face. 

“My taste is immaculate, first of all.” You pout, wiggling the wine glass in front of him. “Please. Just a tongue dip.” 

“A tongue dip? What the fuck is that?” Angel asks, and then laughing as you demonstrate, sticking your tongue out into the wine instead of sipping it. 

“Okay fine, but I get my own glass querida.” Angel forfeits, smiling at your victory dance as you shuffle to get him his own cup. 

“As if you haven’t drank after me before.” You scoff, shaking your head. “Wasting a perfectly, well sorta, clean glass, Reyes.” 

“I don’t know where your mouth’s been.” It’s out before Angel can stop himself, and once it comes out of his mouth, he immediately regrets it. He wasn’t going to bring it up tonight. He really wasn’t, he had decided that when he let you in. But every time you stick your tongue out of him, all he can think about is how it’s been swirling around some other guy’s dick for weeks now. 

You set the glass down on the counter and slowly walk back into the living room. He can tell by the look on your face that he’s hurt your feelings, and even as he tries to open his mouth to fix it, he can’t. Mostly because he kind of wants to hear your defense. 

“That’s not fair.” You say quietly, your shoulders sitting low, defeated by his obvious opinion of you. “I’ve never judged you for the things you did to forget me. I would never do that to you. I’ve always been supportive if you felt like you needed to be with other people. That’s not fair, Angel.” 

Angel sighs, his eyes moving from their place on the floor up to meet your eyes. “I know. I didn’t mean to say that, querida, I’m sorry.” 

You eye him for a second, and then quietly reach around the counter to get the glass. You pour him a little bit of wine, hand it to him, and then plop down next to him with your own glass. 

“Y/N-” He starts but you cut him off. 

“Drink it. I want to see you try it.” 

He stares at you for a minute, his eyes dancing back and forth between yours, searching for the answers to fixing this in your eyes but ultimately, he comes up short. He raises his glass to his lips, and delicately takes a sip. He face scrunching, and then spreading out in surprise. 

“Shit, querida, that’s not bad.” Angel says, taking a larger sip. 

You laugh, and shake your head. “See, I told you.” 

But not soon after the laughter fades into a silence neither of you know how to fill. Unspoken truths bouncing between you full of things you’re both too afraid to say out loud. Truths you’ve spent weeks in national parks trying to run from. Petrified that if they ever see the light of day, you’ll lose the person that means the most to you in this world. 

“Do I mean anything to you, Angel?” You say quietly, crossing your legs underneath you. 

Angel’s eyebrows furrow, as he turns his whole body toward you. “What are you talking about, mi amor?”

“Don’t do that.” You say, cringing away from him. 

“Do what? It’s the tru-”

“Pretend like I’m the love of your life. Like I’m the girl you want forever with. And even if that’s true, don’t pretend like I’m supposed to know how you feel when you’ve been bouncing back and forth for a decade.” You sputter out, pouring more wine. You’re going to need it for this conversation. 

Angel stares at you for a minute, his mouth opening like he has something to say and then closing again periodically. You try to give him a few minutes to collect his thoughts, but eventually, you decide that maybe you shouldn’t have come over tonight at all. 

Not wanting a replay of the events of last time, you shake your head, and stand, taking your wine glass to the sink and then grabbing your keys. 

“Stop.” Angel finally says, but he stays planted on the couch, his eyes on the floor. 

“No, I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. I’m just going to go home.” You sputter out, looking around the kitchen for your purse. 

“Stop.” Angel says again, this time clearly more abrasive. 

But you can’t hear him over the ringing in your ears. You can’t believe you could be so stupid as to think coming over here would be a good idea. But fuck, you can’t find your purse. 

“I know it’s here somewhere.” You mutter, scurrying around. “Can you help me find it?” 

“What are you looking for?” He asks. 

“My purse.” 

“Did you bring it in?” He asks, his eyes finally meeting yours. 

You shake your head, your mind foggy from the wine. “I can’t remember. I’ll go look in the car.” 

“No.” Angel says, watching as you walk toward your keys. “Y/N, stop!” His loud voice booms over the ringing in your ears and you stop and turn toward him. 

“You aren’t driving home.” He mumbles out, shaking his head. “Just stay here tonight.” 

You shake your head, “I can’t. I’m sorry. I-” 

Angel stands, cutting you off as he crosses the room. He takes your face in his hands and forces you to look at him. His eyes are wide, full of fear of being vulnerable with you. He’s afraid that once he says it out loud, he won’t be able to take it back. He’ll have to commit. 

“Don’t go. Just stay here tonight. It’s fine.”

You pull yourself away from him, and shrug. “I’ll call Y/BF/N.” 

“Absolutely not.” Angel says. 

“Why?” 

“Because I love you.” He yells. “Is that what you want? I love you. You’re my favorite person in the world, mi amor. And I love you. And I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to say it until now. Dump him.” Angel takes your face in his hands again, softer this time. 

“Be with me.” He whispers, his eyes searching yours again. He leans down to kiss you, but is met with the tug of you ripping yourself from his grasp again. 

“What changed?” You ask, skeptical of his change of heart. 

Angel gives you an incredulous look as he spouts off, “Nothing changed. This, me and you, will never change. It’s the only real thing in my life. Please, Y/N, te amo.” 

You stare at him for a while, too long, really. So long that when he reaches out for you, you don’t have the heart to pull away from him this time. 

This time, when he leans down to kiss you, you let him. Your lips mold together, as he grips your face, pressing you against the wall of his apartment. Once his lips start trailing down your jaw, you whisper, “You really love me?” 

“Con cada fibra de mi ser.”