#but because we met in real life and didn't force anything everything just clicked

[rusalkarusa]

Meeting people on dating apps is so profoundly unsexy and unromantic

[ageingfangirl2]

Surprise Me! Mihawk (OPLA)

y/n is a new assassin who catches the eye of Mihawk. She thinks her past is private but the warlord knows a lot about her and wants to talk. Part 2 to Fight Someone Your Own Size.

Part 1

Y/N

After your encounter with the warlord Dracule Mihawk, you decided to skip town. He had an infamous reputation and it wasn't wise to get on his radar for good or bad reasons. You had a past, a bloody past that led you to skip from town to town until you landed in the last town and actually felt safe until those stupid guys had to attack you in the alley. You were a trained killer, a fresh one at that, which is how you garnered a leave me alone kind of reputation. The reason you never settled down was the fear of being hunted down for what you did.

You were an orphan, a scrappy one at that, fast and light-fingered, which is how you gained the attention of your former master. He took you in when you were ten, housed and fed you, training you to kill those who wronged others while giving you an education you wouldn't have gotten on the streets. You owed him everything, but you couldn't give him everything he wanted.

If anyone did come looking for you those men from the alley knew your face, it was a rookie move leaving them alive, you had to go back. They wouldn't sell out Mihawk, no one would believe them but they would throw you under a cart to save their own skin.

You return to town at night, grabbing your knives and scouting each of the men's homes. It was simple after that, breaking in and killing each of them with a single sliced throat. Now you could leave town without fear of being exposed.

However, that was really short-lived as you're stopped in your tracks by a familiar voice that sent shivers down your spine, 'huh...'

You gulp and dare to look up from his bare chest to meet his piercing eyes, '...what?'

He watches you intensely, like a rabbit he had caught in a trap and wasn't sure what to do with it next, 'nothing, I just didn't know you had that in you. You also don't seem like the type to come back to the same town twice y/n.'

This makes you laugh, 'the fact you think you know anything about me at all, is genuinely hilarious.'

You go to step around him but he continues to block your path, 'your real name is y/n l/n, your parents died in a house fire when you were five but it wasn't an accident. Your father abused your mother and she snapped when he forced himself onto you so set the fire. You lived on the streets for five years before being taken in at age ten by a man calling himself David. And for the next eight years, he made you into a killer. But now he's dead and you're all alone again,' he lists off your life story blankly.

Your hand goes for a knife, 'you knew David? Are you going to kill me because I killed him?'

'You think you killed him y/n? What do you remember?' Mihawk asks, intrigued by you.

'Before you saved me in that alley I've seen your face before but I can't remember where. Do I know you?' you answer his question with your own question.

Mihawk inhales loudly, clearly annoyed that you weren't answering him, 'I like people to follow my orders. When I ask you a question you'll answer. But I'll let it slip just this once y/n, now tell me about that night.'

You click your tongue and bow your head, 'not much, it's all a bit of a blur. He tried to come onto me and I must have snapped remembering my father because next thing I know he's dead.'

You shudder, remembering vividly the night David put his hands on you and got angry when you refused. If you didn't submit to him he was going to kill you, so you had to fight back.

MIHAWK

I do the unthinkable and pull y/n into me watching the wheels turn in their head, 'we met briefly when you were eleven, I was curious what David saw in you. We then met for a second time when you were eighteen. I believe men should show honour and respect women, so when I saw him on top of you I killed him, you passed out and I left.'

y/n looks up at me, and through their emotions, I see further, I see hunger and drive, 'what happens now Mihawk?'

'You're still not ready to be out on your own so you're coming with me and I'll finish your training. You don't have any say in the matter because now you owe me your life,' I state, and y/n nods.

y/n then motions around them, 'any more loose ends to tie up?'

I shake my head, 'All taken care of, now let's go.'

I place my hand on y/n's back and guide them into the shadows. They continued to surprise me, and with my training, everyone was going to fear them.

[sidebaxolotl]

If this isn't too personal, how did you come to Christ?

If this comes off disjointed or rambly im sorry lol.

Uhh when me and Sibling were really young we did go to church. Did not understand anything that was going on but I do recall wanting to know more and wanting to know God. I understood the concept of sin and being a sinner and i know i didn't want to be that. I considered myself Christian at that time but I probably wasn't tbh. I did pray a lot tho.

Up until high school i was basically living that same nominally Christian life--i was aware of my bible, didn't read it. Family stopped going to church years ago. I was hanging around a lot of athiests and it was that cringe ahh era of anti-sjw youtube which had a lot of athiests as well. Didn't really agree with the anti Christian things they were saying but i was very bothered by the fact that i couldnt refute any of it. No one i knew irl could answer my questions and i couldn't find anything. It was extremely distressing for me. Like if God was real then it should be able to be demonstrated and proven. Theology should be able to be defended.

Became agnostic for like. 10 minutes. It just felt so wrong and bad like in my body that i was like Nope Not Doing that. Basically stayed Christian out of spite during this period of my life but desperately begged God to show me proof that He was real.

Skip to college: I joined a really solid college ministry and discovered based Christian tumblr. My mentor and a bunch of tumblr Christians were able to answer all my questions and teach me about the faith. I was serving in that church and consistently reading my bible and hearing the gospel. I wanted to believe so bad but I wasn't sure I did. Not bc i believed that Christianity wasnt true, but because I doubted my own belief in the truth.

I remember the moment I really believed though. I was chilling in my freshman dorm on my laptop, reading about apologetics. And i think id found like a list of arguments for the existence of God. I read them and like. Something clicked in my head. Like my whole world shifted. I ran outside and was just staring at everything like God made that!! And that!! And me!! Like the full weight that nothing could exist without God hit me with full force and I couldnt go back to thinking or even existing the way I had before. I also remember calling my parents and excitedly trying to explain everything I'd learned to them and also just repeating God is real over and over. I probably sounded crazy and they definitely did not understand what i was saying but they seemed happy for me. I knew if God was real then the gospel and Christianity had to be true. No other religion compared.

Not too long after that, the head pastor at the time called me and asked if I wanted to be baptized and join the church. I was still a little doubtful of my own belief--what i didnt realize was that I was putting my trust in God to be who He said he was and do what He said He said he would do despite my unbelief, which is what true faith entails--but I said yes. I met with my mentor and pastor. They shared the gospel with me again, and I was baptized.

I didnt realize i was gay until like a couple years after that but yeah thats the story :)

[iviarellereads]

The Dragon Reborn, Chapter 16 - Hunters Three

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(White Lion of Andor icon) In which these two are a bit much.

PERSPECTIVE: When Egwene and Nynaeve enter Nynaeve's room, it's not empty. Elayne is waiting, her arms crossed, and her two brothers are sprawled across chairs. Galad's beauty has the full effect on Egwene after a winter away, as he says it's good to see her and he's worried so over her. But Gawyn says the real question is, where have they been? Elayne is dodging him like she doesn't want to share a treat.

Elayne says it's not her question to answer, and she tells Egg and Nyn she came here because she didn't want to be alone. They wouldn't take no for an answer, and followed her. The men know a bit of what's happened, though not nearly everything,(1) and they've sworn to Morgase to keep an eye on Elayne when she returned, and to escort her back to Caemlyn as soon as she can leave her training.

Nyn says Morgase's commands have no weight in Tar Valon, and if they need the men's help, the men will be the first to hear of it. Now, scoot on out of the Accepted quarters. Gawyn says Elayne owes him an explanation for all this, as her favourite brother, but Nyn says that Elayne owes them nothing, and repeats again that they're to get. OUT. Before the count of three, or she will inform the Master at Arms, who has a much stronger arm than Sheriam, and she'll be glad to make sure he does a proper job of switching them for being in Accepted quarters without permission.

“Nynaeve, you wouldn’t—” Gawyn began worriedly, but Galad motioned him to silence and stepped closer to Nynaeve. Her face kept its stern expression, but she unconsciously smoothed the front of her dress as he smiled down at her. Egwene was not surprised. She did not think she had met a woman outside the Red Ajah who would not be affected by Galad’s smile. “I apologize, Nynaeve, for our forcing ourselves on you unwanted,” he said smoothly. “We will go, of course. But remember that we are here if you need us. And whatever caused you to run away, we can help with that, as well.” Nynaeve returned his smile. “One,” she said. Galad blinked, his smile fading. Calmly, he turned to Egwene. Gawyn got up and started for the door. “Egwene,” Galad said, “you know that you, especially, can call on me at any time, for anything. I hope you know that.” “Two,” Nynaeve said. Galad gave her an irritated look.(2) “We will talk again,” he told Egwene, bowing over her hand. With a last smile, he took an unhurried step toward the door. “Thrrrrrrrrr”—Gawyn darted through the door, and even Galad’s graceful stride quickened markedly—“ree,” Nynaeve finished as the door banged shut behind them. Elayne clapped her hands delightedly. “Oh, well done,” she said. “Very well done. I did not even know men were forbidden the Accepted’s quarters, too.” “They aren’t,” Nynaeve said dryly, “but those louts did not know it, either.”

There's some laughter between them, and El more or less says that Egg should stop mooning over Galad, because he's horridly Lawful Good and besides that, Gawyn's besotted with her. He just won't say anything because he'd never interfere with his brother's interests, after Galad saved Gawyn’s life as children. And El would love to have Egg as a true sister...

Nyn cuts her off and asks if they're done with girlish chatter. Elayne says sure, if they're willing to say what the Amyrlin told them after she left. Egg protests that the Amyrlin said El was to be left out of it, but El says she doesn't mean to be left out of anything.(3) Nyn says they could use someone with them who people might not suspect is working with them on the task at hand. Especially since they were just nearly killed. They relate everything to Elayne, and Nyn says if she's afraid, she can still stand aside, but once begun, it will be too late. Elayne says of course she's afraid, she's not a fool, but not enough to stop her.

Nyn adds that the Amyrlin may mean for Mat to die.(4) The other wondergirls are metaphorically speechless, but Nyn suspects the White Tower has its reasons for sometimes denying Healing. Nyn goes to her wardrobe and brings out her bag of herbs, saying that maybe she can manage it. El says Verin and Moiraine together with an angreal couldn't do it. She could burn herself to a cinder trying! Nyn says people keep telling her she's the most powerful potential Aes Sedai in a thousand years, and it's time to find out if they're right. Egg says maybe, since they're all so powerful, they can divide the flow between them. Nyn says none of them have channeled together before, trying could be as dangerous as drawing too much individually.

Elayne says if they're going to do it, let's just go do it, but before she gets any further, the door bangs open and an Aes Sedai enters the room. Egwene curtsies deeply, to hide the dismay on her face.

=====

(1) I don't think they actually know ANYTHING except that Elayne was missing from Tar Valon. They just THINK they know anything from rumour and gossip. (2) He doesn't like a taste of his own medicine, does he? But, notice, this whole situation contradicts some of Elayne's comments about him. He does what he believes is right, even if that breaks the rules. He's lawful good, but to his own moral law, not necessarily the law of the land. Otherwise his honour would have compelled him to remove himself and Gawyn when Nyn first told him they're not allowed here, unless he already knew better. How much of Elayne's hatred for him is based in the fact of him being a fuddy-duddy rule follower, and how much in Galad trying to protect her from the hijinks to which she is prone? Why might Galad feel the way he does about doing what's morally right? Is either of them more correct in their actions or their feelings toward one another? (Am I asking these questions to mislead, or to head off some of the assumptions fans tend to make about both of these characters, the way I did when sharing some insight into Nynaeve's motivations in book 1?) (3) See: hijinks, and proneness to. (4) She doesn't miss much, she just misinterprets some.

[archonadeptus]

Genshin x Creator!Reader.

Characters: Zhongli & Xiao.

Part One Click Here☆

Warnings: Not proof read! Sorry I'm sleepy hehe♡

A/N: The second part to my creator series! I Hope it's okay, I'm soft for these two lmao x

Sign Here ♡

It had been a few days since arriving in Liye. During those days Venti had to return to Mondstat to continue his duty there as a part of the seven, yet he had ensured that you would be safe within both Zhongli and Xiao's presence. Amongst themselves they had agreed to give you a few days' peace to answer any questions you may have had for them as you truly did need rest too.

"So then... My old life never existed?" Your gentle voice swayed through Wangshu inn's balcony, practically blessing the air itself as you spoke. Zhongli was the first to speak after you,

"In a way that's correct, your grace." He paused for a moment doing his best to truly consider his words. "It was a realm within your mind. Very real, yes. But once you leave, it destroys itself until you return." Slowly nodding you let out a soft sigh. All of that suffering you were forced to endure back in your previous world suddenly felt so avoidable. 

"What was the world like?" Xiao finally piped up, eyes gazing upon you.

"Horrid." Your words held a venom that could make anybody shake with fear. Your eyes soon lit up once they met him though. "But that's okay now because I'm here with you all." Zhongli couldn't help but smile before returning his focus to a new matter.

"We've created a new contract, your grace." You tilted your head slightly with a quizzical look upon your face. Xiaos' eyes however seemed to sparkle ever so slightly.

"May I ask about its contents?"

"I'm your protector, your grace. I'm able to travel alongside you wherever you may go. This is my way to repay you and everything you've done for me." He finally stood and bowed before you. "Please, your grace, allow me this."

"But Xiao xiao," Your voice spoke out, a hand against his cheek offering him some comfort. "You've done more than you know for me and Teyvat. If anything, I owe you." You smiled at the red on his cheeks, he really wasn't used to affection.

"Please? This... This will put me at ease. It will make me feel… What mortals call joy." Humming softly your mind began to run. It was still hard to believe that one of your comfort characters wanted to protect you. Maybe this too would allow you to give Xiao a good life, away from any suffering.

"Very well then."  Zhongli smiled as he prepared the contract and got all the needed signatures.

"Wait Zhongli, why are you signing it?" He just grinned at you too,

"I'd be a fool if I didn't... Since the day you saved me I've been longing for the day to do this." Passing you the pen, he pointed to the line for your signature to lay. "I wish to forever be beside you, my grace." Well why hesitate any further to sign? It's literally the geo archon and a Yaksha who desperately wished to guard you. Allow yourself this and in return you'd provide them with a wonderful life. Your signature soon laid upon the contract and shon gold before disappearing. 

"Then what now?" You aimlessly asked out loud, eyes gazing at the sights before you. 

"Why don't we walk around, your grace?" A smile soon returned to your lips as you stood.

"Please! Let's go! This is all I've dreamed of…"

"Anywhere in particular you'd like to go?" You thought a little about this, thinking about your journey through Genshin Impact back in your mind's realm. Humming lightly you finally decided on your destination. 

"Liye first please?" With a nod, you three began walking back down the stairs of the inn before reaching that well known path. However Zhongli had placed the hood up on your attire, hiding you from any passerbys. 

"Just until you're known again… We cannot allow people to bombard you can we?"

Your time there was beyond enjoyable, and much to your joy you had plenty of Mora within your pockets and you had insisted you spoiled both men. Whatever their sights lingered on, you had insisted that you buy it for them. Though both of them caught onto this pretty quickly and tried their best to refrain their gaze from lingering on anything. However, that soon came to an and once the familiar yet sweet scent of Almond Tofu flowed through the air. 

"Xiao xiao?" You grinned at the sparkle in his eyes once the smell reached him. "Are you hungry?" The playful tint to your voice didn't fail to make Zhongli chuckle a little.

"No. I have no need for that, I don't require mortal food." Smiling at the words you had expected of him, You'd already sat them both down at Wanmin Restaurant and ordered dishes each of you would enjoy.

"Oh really? How disappointing…" You sat beside them both with a smile. "I guess the Almond Tofu will grow cold…" The dishes were soon set before the three of you, Xiao's eyes never leaving the dish before he began to speak.

"N-no. It's fine, I'll eat it." His cheeks grew red once again. "Besides, you got it for me. Thank you." You smiled happily at this  before Zhongli gazed at you with a softer, more relaxed expression upon his face.

"Your grace…"

"Y/n." You corrected softly, trying to hide a laugh at how quickly Xiao was finishing his food. He hates crowds and eating with others. Yet within this moment, Karmic debt free, he seemed...Calm and rather happy.

"Y/n." He repeated, "I apologize that we've been unable to treat you... We found a way to bring you back at the loss of the war's memories yet we haven't truly treated you yet." Shaking your head, you finished a mouthful of your favourite dish.

"I'm afraid you don't understand… This is everything I ever wanted whilst I resided within that hell of earth."

"Hell?" Xiao questioned, his mouth full.

"Ah... I suppose the term here would be the abyss. But it was horrible. I never wish to be seperated from either of you again - nor from the others. Please believe me when I say that all I've ever wanted to do was spoil you all and make you smile once again." The words you spoke rapidly warmed their hearts as you watched them both exchange a knowing nod.

"I'm honoured that you're our Creator... I will forever smile for you, y/n." 

"As will I." Xiao spoke softly, a very slight hint of a smile laying against his lips.

Night rapidly drew inward, lanterns offering a comforting glow as you three walked the beautiful Streets with a hint of tiredness washing over your body. Xiao and Zhongli had positioned themselves beside you, keeping you safe within the middle and it was due to this that they realized you had fallen sleepy.

"Ah I'm sorry I kept you both out for so long." Zhongli shook his head humming lightly,

"It was an honour to spend the day beside you." Before you could reply, a shout was soon heard.

"That's them!" Turning your head in confusion toward the shouts, two spears crossed before you to protect you.

"Your grace, stay back." Zhongli spoke before moving you away from a thrown weapon. Your gaze soon laid upon a large group of treasure hunters whose eyes laid upon you. Tilting your head in confusion, your thoughts began to run. Who on earth in their right mind would try and fight a Yaksha, the geo archon (not that they know but still-) and the creator? A slight slash to your cheek seemed to wake you back up. Zhongli and Xiao were about to go feral for hurting you, even if it wasn't bad, their weapons drawn and a shield around you. Sighing lightly you lifted up your hand and created a wall as such, it was see through and tinted like gold. You still weren't certain how to use these abilities but it seemed to be whatever you thought.

"Who dares to disturb us?" The treasure hoarders stopped at your voice, seeing the golden blood trail down your cheek.

"Your grace?" Another spoke.

"I asked you all a question - so now you must answer before you endure harm. Who dares to threaten my loved ones and me?" Fingers were now pointed at their supposed leader shaking under your piercing gaze.

"P-Please forgive our insolence. We didn't know it was you - we saw you spending a lot of mora so we tracked you down and-" Zhonglis expression turned into a scrowl, golden eyes tainted with anger.

"You realize you come off horribly whichever way you plead your case, yes?" The treasure hoarder actually had the audacity once the barrier you created dropped, to reach and grab your hard after glaring at Zhongli. Xiao was quick to grab his hand and shove him back before that happened though.

"Hands off." His expression was dark just as Zhonglis was. 

"You're causing me and my beloved's trouble. Leave." With that, they had just teleported elsewhere. Was that you? Oops. "Are you both okay?" They both just rushed to your side after a quick nod from Xiao and a mumbled yes from Zhongli.

"Your grace you're bleeding." His gloved thumb Swiped gently over the golden toned blood on your cheek. 

"We shall return to Wangshu Inn for your care and recovery, your grace." Before you knew it, you were sitting carefully on the balcony chair as they both tended to you quickly and carefully.

"Beloveds?" Your voice whispered out, "You don't have to - I'm fine. Are you both certain that you're Okay? I'm sorry I didn't create that barrier sooner. I wasn't thinking." Xiao softly sat before you, worry hidden within his features, a red tone still clear on his cheeks at the nickname you chose for them both.

"This is through no fault of your own, we should have slaughtered them without a second thought." Shaking your head you ushered them to sit down by you, which they did.

"I didn't want that and you both knew that... I'm just sorry I dragged you both out."   Zhongli hesitantly took your hand in his own, something that instantly calmed you and made you smile, causing Xiao to hold Your other hand.

"You called us both your Beloveds, did you not?" You nodded lightly, "Then allow us to care for you like that. Let us accompany you wherever and guard you. Allow us to…"

"Love you." Xiao mumbled, looking away lightly. Zhonglis thumb rubbed lightly against the skin on your hand.

"To love you." Zhongli confirmed with a soft smile.

"Please do?" Without another word, it felt as if a hidden contract had been written between you three. Where you'd all love and protect each other for years to come.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

i'm not the winter soldier anymore, i'm james buchanan barnes

© @captaincentenarian

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

SPOILERS — 1x03!!!

you help Bucky with a panic attack, after coming back from Madripoor.

word count: 1.145 words.

warnings/tags: ptsd situation, panic attack, reader insert.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

It wasn't inevitable for you to not notice that Bucky had been absent-minded since the three of you came to the bar. The beers were rolling on the table as the chat turned from their mission to Sam's war stories. You were having a good night, sharing laughs and past adventures, disconnecting from work, until Bucky stood up while having a long sip from his bottle. I need air, he just said, causing your other partner and you to look at each other a little confused. You glanced at him leaving the place before putting back your attention on Sam. He waved his head to the exit, urging you to follow the soldier outside.

You didn't need anything else to do it, leading your steps throughout the crowd of people there to find Bucky. Once outdoors and zipping up your jacket, you glimpsed a shadow coming into the next corner to a dead-end street. Rubbing your nose, you continued to the alley without hesitating, hearing some grunts echoing between both buildings. He was there. Hands placed against the wall, head bowed and eyes closed. His chest rose and fell furious, trying to breathe. You didn't think about your actions, putting a foot wrong when you rested your fingers on his middle back.

His whole anatomy shook, walking away from you almost sweating and scared, but ready to attack. Until Bucky laid his eyes on you.

“It's okay, it's okay… It's me”. You intoned using a soft and calm tone of voice.

“Sorry, uh… I just… I can't bre— breathe”. He waved the vibranium hand close to his chest, gasping like a fish out of water.

He was having a panic attack and you knew exactly why. Taking two long strides, you landed a hand on the back of his head and grabbed his flesh hand strongly, guiding him to the closest wall to rest him on it.

“Hey, hey, James… James focus on me, c'mon, focus on me”. You called him, sliding your fingers across his neck to force him to look at you. “Breathe with me, okay?”

Fixing your orbs in his, you show him how he had to do it. Inhaling through your nostrils, holding the air for three seconds, and exhaling it by your nose. He followed your instructions, once and again, until he was respiring quietly and normally.

“Now, repeat with me. I'm not the Winter Soldier anymore, I'm James Buchanan Barnes”.

“I'm no— not the Winter… Soldier anymore… I'm James Buchanan Barnes”.

“That's it… That's it... One more time. Can you say it for me one more time? Please”. Your honeyed tone made his pulse slow down, nodding with his chin.

“I'm not the Winter Soldier anymore. I'm James Buchanan Barnes”. His voice was firm now, finally believing his own affirmation.

“You back?” You whispered caressing his rough cheek using your thumb.

“Yeah… I just… had all those voices… screaming inside my head. I couldn't shut them up”. He explained, squeezing your hand between his digits, rested close to his heart. “That… That… I, uh… In Madripoor… I… I heard Zemo saying how easy was for me to… y'know, come ba—”

“Don't do that to yourself, Bucky. You've worked really hard to be where you are right now”.

“You mean in an alley that smells like peed and puke, having an atta—”.

Again, you didn't think about your actions, slapping his face with your free hand and furrowing towards him. Bucky's mouth dropped to the floor, more than surprised and gulping a complaint.

“Why…? Did you just…? What the hell?”

“You were wandering again”. You excused your gesture. “Want another, uh?”

“Hell, no!” He pouted at you, looking through his eyelids trying to make you feel sorry. “Why a slap? Did you think that was a good way to calm somebody? Why not a kiss?”

“Oh, god… here we go 'gain”. You couldn't help but roll your eyes with the intention of drawing some distance between both, but he pushed you closer till your chests were practically stuck to the other.

“'M not stupid”. He scoffed securing his vibranium arm around your lower back to not let you go.

“I was worried, Buck”.

“See? You call me like that”.

“Like what? It's your name”.

“Uh… Not actually”. The soldier replied, shaking his head to both sides briefly. “Only Steve called me like that, he was my friend”.

“So am I”.

“Are you?”

His gaze made you feel weak, breaking down the walls around your heart that too much time costed you to build. You licked your upper lip with resignation, leaning and resting your forehead on his clavicle. You afforded to close your eyes and tour his neck back to his scalp to tangle your fingers there, slowly, gently, fondly. It was a step to admit your real feelings for Bucky, and he accepted it without refusing.

The soldier kissed your temple to put his chin on top of your head, holding you tighter and rolling down his eyelids to only focus on your caresses. For an instant, everything disappeared around you. The world got emptied. The noise got shut down.

“I was scared. Not for me, but for you”. You confessed, not needing to explain why. He was conscious about your reasons because he was too somehow. “But that's not gonna happen again”.

At the moment you raised your face, Bucky took the advantage to press his lips on your forehead. “How could it, if I have you to remind me who I am?”

“I'm just a plus, Buck. Don't give me a credit you earned by yourself and your constant work. You did it alone, I just supported you”.

“Like fewer people did, and like fewer people do”.

“You've never cared about people's opinion”.

“Yeah, till my relationship with Sam changed. And till I met you”. Bucky affirmed very securely.

“But don't forget you're a fighter. You're strong, you deserve good things to happen to your life”.

“I won't”. He responded, bringing your hand tangled to his flesh one to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of yours. “Thank you…”

“You don't have to”. Clicking your tongue, you couldn't help but roll your eyes. “Let's come back to the bar, we need another round of beers”.

“I can't get drunk, remember?”

“You have so much fun watching me being drunk, remember?”

“How could I forget it? You always make that… horrible impression of my arm, with those… robot noises”. Bucky chuckled, pinching your side and causing you to jump slightly under his grip. Your laugh made him feel better.

“C'mon! You love it!”

“Oh, yeah, I do”. He opened his eyes a little more, nodding his head while placing his vibranium arm on your shoulders, but without loosening the hold around your other hand. “I'd like to see you imitating Sam tonight”.

“Nasty boy…” You joked with a giggle.

feedback is appreciated. lemme know in a comment if you enjoyed it. and REBLOG!!! 🤍

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[mandoalorian]

Brown Eyes [Din Djarin x Reader]

!! SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 15, SEASON 2. !!

*Hi. The episode has been out for three hours. The devil works hard but I work harder. I hope you enjoy! xx*

Summary: Din has always wanted to confess his love to you— but with his devotion to the Creed and with the risk of losing you, he wonders if the revelation would really be worth it. Would you even consider being with him if he refused to remove his helmet? When Grogu is taken away from Din and in the fiendish hands of Moff Gideon, Din realises there isn't anything he won't do to get his son back.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: descriptions of anxiety, *SPOILERS FOR Season 2 Episode 15: The Believer of The Mandalorian*

Word count: 2.6k

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos

Masterlist

gif credit: @siennablake

"Din," you froze up, backing away from the Imperial who was sitting at a table drinking caf. "I- I can't do it."

Din's head snapped to face you, masked by the Imperial Shocktrooper helmet he was doting. "Why not?" His voice was firm, but the tone of his question dripped with concern. You bawled your fingers into a fist as you squeezed your eyes tight shut, beginning to anxiously pace around in circles.

"That's Valen Hess," you muttered, trying your hardest to regulate your nervous breathing. "He- I used to serve under him. I- can't… go in there. Din, he'll recognise me." the thoughts in your head were jumbled. Din placed two hands steady on your shoulders.

"I'll go, hand me the dataspike." Din told you calmly. You felt like putty under his touch. Usually, his firm grip would calm you down and ease any of your troubles away— but not this time. You felt completely nauseated.

Grogu was at stake. When you met the Mandalorian, it took him some time to find the confidence in introducing you to the child. You were Ex-Imperial after all. But he warmed up to you, seeing the way you cared so deeply for the children on Sorgan. When he introduced you to the little green bean, who did not yet have a name, you were enamoured. That's when Din knew he was in love with you. Ever since that day, he'd only fallen in love with you more and more. His feelings became stronger with every waking second he spent with you.

Of course, he never acted on his feelings. He wished he had, he wished he could say something. He knew that if something happened to you and you didn't know how he truly felt, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. There had been countless times where you and him brushed paths on the Razor Crest. Plenty of times to say something, plenty of times to mutter the three words that had consumed his mind, body and soul. ‘I love you’. The words were like a broken record in the back of his mind. He looked at you through his visor, seeing your distress and his heart aching and he wanted— no, he had to do something.

His son had been kidnapped and suddenly, Din was an unstoppable force. Nothing could hold him back— not his friends, not the Creed, nothing. The regret ate him up like flies on a corpse. If there was one thing he learned from Grogu's disappearance, is that you never know what is coming around the corner. Din began to treat everyday with you like it was your last because there was no way of telling what the future was holding. And that only stirred him on, the desire of telling you how much you meant to him.

"You can't go," you removed your finger from your lips where you had been anxiously biting your nails. "The security system is biometric facial recognition. There must be another way." you tried to rack your brain for a solution, but Din's mind was already made up.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes in search for an answer. You steadied your breathing. "Din," you whispered. "What if we distract them? You go in there and speak to him so he's looking the other way and I'll use that moment to sneak past and access the terminal."

No answer. "Din?" you asked, cautiously opening your eyes. He was already gone. Your mouth began to open and close like a goldfish as you watched his approach the terminal. He paused, midway between two tables, shakily saluting Valen Hess. Din turned back to the terminal, held his head up high and carried on over to it.

Upon examining it, Din found it was no different to any other information point— whether it had been New Republic or Independent, Din was lucky enough to already know how to navigate the system. He clicked a few buttons on the keypad, bringing up the facial recognition scanner. He stood still, letting it roam down his face. He didn't have much faith, but it was worth a shot.

Din cursed under his breath as the scanner light lit up red, beeping ecstatically.

"Error. Error. Facial scanning incomplete. Ten seconds until system shutdown." An automated voice informed. Din felt a few gazes burn into his back, no doubt Valen Hess noticing the commotion. "Ten, nine, eight-"

You watched as the timer went down, your hand fingers curling around the blaster in your holster. You didn't know what Din was going to, but you knew if anything— he was a man with a plan.

And that was when he removed his helmet.

It hit you like a ton of bricks, it took the air from your lungs leaving you gasping in silence. You felt like a criminal, looking at him with your own eyes. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't tear the gaze from the back of his head.

Brown hair. Dark brown hair, slightly messy from the helmet. Although you were some distance away, you noticed the little waves and the way it curled at the nape of his neck. The cut of the Imperial armour revealed just a sliver of his skin. It was golden tan— surprising to you.

"Facial scanning complete." The dataspike ejected from the terminal, a small light lit up in green, validating that the information had been processed and Din was now the owner of Moff Gideon’s co-ordinates. Just as he was about to put his helmet back on, a voice interrupted him.

Your heart sank when you saw that Valen Hess had approached Din.

"Trooper, where are you stationed?"

"Transportation."

"What?"

"My designation is transport— co-pilot."

"No son, what's your TK number?"

Din felt his throat dry up as he looked the man in the eyes. Valen Hess stared at Din right back, looking into the eyes that nobody had gazed into since Din had been sworn to the Creed. Din swallowed the lump in his throat, only for it to return immediately.

"He's with me." you announced, walking over to Din and Hess. A wash of relief shuttled through Din's body upon hearing your voice, but that was completely blown away when he realised you had seen him. It was true, you had seen his face— but there was no time to act up. Din had sacrificed everything for Grogu and you weren't going to let this go wrong. "This is my trooper, sir."

"Who is he and what's his TK number?" Valen Hess repeated, clicking his tongue between his teeth.

"This is my commanding officer TK-0402, and I'm TK-0322. I'm afraid he doesn't speak much. Ever since his vessel lost pressure on Tanaab." You explained with confidence, sighing apologetically and placing a hand on your hip.

Din found the courage to look at you, making brief yet bewildered glances between you and Valen Hess. He had a thousand questions but he knew he could trust you, and so, he smiled wearily, nodding his head in agreement to your little story.

"What's his name?" Hess inquired.

You took a deep breath, and turned to face Din. He looked at you too, his face softening as your eyes met for the very first time. You felt your heart rate slow down as you took in his appearance. You were nervous, and tensions were high, but as you looked into the Mandalorian's sparkling eyes, you felt a familiar sense of belonging. You felt complete.

"Brown eyes." you whispered, feeling the tears pool up as you tried to choke back a sob. Din smiled at you, just a small smile, but enough to make the corners of his eyes crinkle. It gave you the reassurance to know that this was all worth it.

"Well, brown eyes," Valen Hess adjusted his belt. "You troopers were both on the transport that brought in the valium, correct? The only surviving shocktroopers, might I add." he grinned, raising an eyebrow.

"Y-yeah, that was us." You answered hesitantly.

"Please, come join me for drinks. We must celebrate." Hess said, approaching the table he was originally sat at and ushering you over with an exaggerated gesture.

You and Din exchanged a look before walking over to the table and sinking down into the chair. Hess poured out two cups of caf and slid them over. Din stayed silent for most of the conversation, briefly making utterances of affirmation and nodding his head to suggest that he was indeed listening.

Although, he wasn't listening really. His mind was racing and he couldn't concentrate on anything. Although it wasn't necessarily true, he felt like every head in the room was looking at him. Staring at him. Judging him breaking his oath. Was he a failure? Was he a disgrace to the Creed? Dishonourable? A monster?

"I could blather on 'to health' or 'to success', but… tell me TK-0322, where do you come from?"

"Alderaan." you said without hesitation. Din looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, wondering why exactly you had given Hess the details of your real planet.

"Ah, I see…" Hess frowned. "Well, to Alderaan!" he grinned, raising his glass in the air.

"No." you deadpanned and Hess shot you a confused look.

"No?"

"No." you repeated. "Alderaan was a peaceful planet destroyed by the Empire."

"And those on the Death Star, those who aided in the destruction of Alderaan became heroes of the Empire. I was there." he said with pride.

Din watched your face harden as your cheeks burned up with rage. "Heroes?" you croaked out. "For attacking and murdering innocents? Hundreds of thousands of people died on Alderaan. I lost my family."

"Losing the ones we love is simply part of life," Hess revealed with a sigh— and Din felt his heart shatter at his words. He stiffened up, his gaze fixating on the concrete wall as his surroundings began to faze out.

"At what cost?" you whispered. "You know, every day I think about it. I wished there was something I could do to stop it. But no, I was here, fighting for the Empire. While the Empire was out killing my people." You gritted out as tears pricked your eyes. You felt Dins hand manouver under the table and take place on your thigh, as his gloved fingers rubbed comforting circles into the thin material that covered your skin. His hand was large, fitting around your leg perfectly. He held you down, stopping your anxious shaking and you immediately calmed down. Din wasn't going to stop you, but he did want you to not let your feelings intrude on what was really happening right now. Valen Hess, however, looked mortified. You picked up the glass and forced a smile. Din copied your movement and you clinked your glass with his. "To family." you toast, and Din smiles. He smiles so wide a dimple appears in his cheek.

"To family." he confirms, thinking about his son and how close he was to getting him back.

You put the glass of caf back down on the table and quickdrew your blaster, shooting Valen Hess in the chest.

Din knew better than to question you. He took out his own pistol and helped you take down the remaining troopers and Imps in the room before you both raced out of the base.

Of course, you knew that there'd be commotion. You heard the TIE fighter engines as soon as you stepped foot outside. Din grabbed your hand, pulling you along as you both sprinted into the depths of the forest. Once deep enough, you looked up. It was dark, strings of light beaming through the gaps in the trees. But it was enough to illuminate Din. You had envisioned what Din looked like beneath his beskar helmet every single day, and now, you had your answer.

Din took one look at you. He pulled off his leather gloves, dropping them to the ground and placed his hand on your cheek. Subconsciously, you leaned into the warmth of his palm as his fingers tucked the strands of hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes, humming in delight as his bodily warmth transferred to you.

"Din, when we return to the ship you can put your helmet back on. I never saw you." you promised, your voice barely above a whisper and your eyes remaining closed.

"Cyare," Din mumbled, his heart yearning. The pad of his thumb traced your face, following the height of your cheek bones and the arch of your eyebrows and down your nose. "Open your eyes." he requested. Cautiously, you obeyed, your eyes fluttering open as you drunk in his appearance once more.

Brown stubble with a patch of grey graced the lower portion of his face. You reached out, this time your own hand cupping his cheek. Din didn't let go of you, and he let you touch him. Your finger nervously brushed over the coarse hairs and you let out a small giggle as you remembered him telling you from the Fresher room on the Razor Crest that he was going to shave. He had, and now you could see for yourself that it had started growing back.

"Do… do you like what you see?" Din asked nervously, his gaze only temporarily lifting from yours.

You nodded your head. "I do," you admitted. "You're… so handsome."

Din felt his cheeks heat up as you watched the small blush creep upon his face. You were enthralled, seeing him like this. Seeing his humanity— his emotions and expressions. You knew you loved Din, with or without the helmet— but this confirmed everything.

"May I?" Din asked, leaning into you slowly and closing his eyes. The curve of his nose bumped against yours as and the softness of his lips touched you so delicately.

You mumbled a small 'yes' and as your lips parted, Din kissed you. Soft, sweet, but passionate and with heart. You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging at it and encouraging Din to kiss you deeper and further. He done so, willingly, a groan of pleasure escaping his mouth and vibrating through your body.

He pulled away eventually, breathless and his eyes dark and glazed. "I-I…" he was speechless, looking at you with the utmost adoration. "I love you." He sighed in defeat, knowing now was a better time than any to admit his true feelings. He had to do it one day, and it just so happened to be in the depths of a forest as you hid from Imperials.

"I love you too." you exhaled shakily, thrusting forward into his arms and letting him hold you tight to his chest. He pressed a kiss into your hair.

"I love you so much." Din sobbed, his grip around you tightening like he was afraid that if he let go, you'd vanish just like Grogu did. "Please, never leave me. Please."

"I'm not going anywhere Din," you promised. "Now c’mon, let's go get Grogu."

PART TWO

[lazarettta]

Misthios IV

Characters (Spartan!Reader x Mother Miranda)

Rating (T)

Word Count (3.4k)

Warnings (none I don't think)

You're up roaming around the castle and run into Miranda and Alcina.

It's been an exhausting but thrilling six months since you've gained the eye of this region's reigning ruler. Their Queen was ruthless as she was beautiful and you were quickly learning that she had a particular taste for blood that you haven't seen since your days in Sparta. Creative and cunning as she was, especially when it came to acts of revenge, but she took care of her kingdom and her people so long as they were loyal to her and her alone.

It was that last rule that forced you to discover just how cruel and destructive the mountains of Norway could be because you were tasked with chasing down a group of runaway slaves—as a punishment. This was different from your 'normal' punishments.

There was nothing special about these fucking slaves, they were just stupid enough to think it wise to steal from their Queen and then dare escape. It angered you so much that she'd send you on this quest when a small squadron of low ranked knights would've done fine.

It had taken you a week and two villages to finally catch up with them into the mountains. The conditions were harsher than what you were prepared for and you had to abandon half your gear and continue on foot. The cold was too much for your horse to handle, but he was old and you were sure to put him out of his misery before continuing on your hunt.

You'd caught them asleep in a cave a few miles away from a village that was tucked away into the mountain side. You purchased food and another horse, costing you all the silver you carried but it made your hunt easier and quicker. You hadn't been looking for the cave but a small fire through the thick of the trees caught your attention. Tying your new mare a distance away, you crept towards them, sticking to the tall grass and the shadows.

They'd all been sleeping so peacefully, even their so-called 'watcher'. It was almost too easy to just go and kill them quietly one by one...but Miranda had specific instructions for you to follow if you wanted her forgiveness. She wanted to hear them scream while she slept and that was exactly what you intended to deliver. You unsheathed one of your twin blades and with practiced ease, you swung right as the watcher’s eyes snapped open.

You were startled awake by a scream that you weren't sure if it was from your dream or if it was a real one. You sat up half way in the bed of the guest room you were put up in, leaning on your elbow ready to spring from beneath the sheets but nothing ever came. After another full five minutes of sitting and waiting with no result, you let yourself fall back onto the soft pillows and threw an arm over your eyes as they began to leak tears.

Nothing of sadness or the sort, you were simply exhausted—you were still in your clothing with your parka not too far away just in case you had to use the window for a quick escape. You even kept your boots on, even though it was too warm for you but you'd deal with it as you've been through more uncomfortable situations that couldn't even compare to simply being hot. Of course if you take off a few layers you'd be fine, but paranoia hasn't exactly been very kind to you in the past years...with good reason too. You hadn't died in over ten years and you planned to keep that streak going.

But even as those thoughts comforted you a bit, sleep evaded you—no longer finding you worthy of its pleasures and you just laid there sprawled out and tangled within the soft white linen sheets that were probably now dirty thanks to you. You didn't care. They probably had more somewhere.

Resigned to the fact that you'd probably never be able to go back to sleep, at least not any time soon, so pushed aside the heavy duvet and slipped out of the bed quietly. You moved towards the window but the only thing you could see was the few trees below and a land covered in blankets of undisturbed snow. A little further beyond the tree line, you saw smoke coming from the chimneys of the factory before you turned away from the view and left your room. You looked left and right of the hallway but there wasn't a sign of life to be found, not even that little maiden Alcina practically made your shadow. It was probably later than it actually felt and she was probably asleep...everyone probably was.

Checking your watch— ah, right. Miranda even took that. She took everything you could use as a weapon and it tickled you more than it annoyed you. Unsupervised, you can now take your time to feel your way around. You didn't get a chance to get a good look at everything before but now you did, and it was an opportunity to get to know the Lady of the castle. You'd long dismissed the thought that anything in this village was normal, it had more secrets and shadows than a horror book you guessed.

Walking through the halls of the second floor felt like a trip down memory lane—no particular region as most all castles were the same. Large and filled with fancy portraits and trinkets that could house and feed five families at a time. Carpet so plush and soft that you could feel it through your boots with each step. It absorbed your weight like a welcome home hug. Clearly Lady Alcina was a woman of finer things in life and that extended far outside of her wardrobe and preferred wines.

It just unnerved you how quiet everything was, a castle thing large and prosperous had to have staff minding it twenty four seven. Nonetheless, you finally came to the door that you recognized during your brief tour as the 'wine room'. Like everything else you'd come across, the door was finely made from dark red oak with gold trimmings—just like Alcina's stagecoach.

Without a second thought about it, you opened the door—simply with the intent of getting a better look at the wine collection the maiden mentioned during your tour. But that thought was cut short because the room wasn't as empty as the silence in the hallway led you to believe as you'd walked into a full conversation by two people; one you were hoping to avoid for a few days and the other you thought was asleep...or well away from your location. You were wrong on both accounts.

“Heisenberg is a blundering fool leading a pack of fleabags, Miranda. He is going to fail again!”

“And we don't have time to stress other options, especially that one! We're out of time already and—”

“Exactly we're out of time so just ask her—” you pushed the door open a little more and it creaked quietly.

They both turned to you and you stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to make of the scene in front of you or what you just overheard. Miranda and Alcina were sitting at the small table, well Miranda was, Alcina was sitting in one of her custom chairs a little further away and both women had two glasses filled with dark red wine. Alcina wasn't in her white dress anymore, instead she'd changed into a pair of dark slacks and deep red turtle neck and she was barefoot. A far cry from the regal dress she wore earlier but she still carried herself in the same manner.

You did your best not to think about how good Miranda looked without that damn mask on her face...even in those robes she still wore, Miranda was beautiful. Beautiful as the day you first met. You forced yourself to keep your attention on Alcina and not Miranda, who was now staring a hole into the side of your face like she was trying to will you into looking at her.

“Oh. Shit, I didn't know this room was occupied.”

Alcina glanced at Miranda briefly from behind her wine glass, her expression unreadable when she settled her eyes on you again, “Of course not, dear. Is everything alright?”

You cleared your throat, fighting the urge to look at Miranda because you could feel her trying to will your eyes in her direction, “No, actually I—”

You were interrupted by an ear piercing scream and high pitched laughter right behind her, on the verge of being hysterical. Lady Dimitrescu sighed heavily behind you and finished her wine before setting her glass down and rising to her full height.

“Please excuse me, it seems that my daughters are teasing the poor maids again.”

You started to comment that it didn't sound like it was teasing but you kept your mouth shut, knowing better than to stick your nose in the wrong place too soon—it never really turned out very well for you the first time. It would never cease to amaze you how fast and quiet Alcina moved despite her size, but it still baffled you that she hasn't ever gotten the doors to her own castle fixed to fit for her . But those thoughts were pushed to the far corners of your mind when the door clicked shut—leaving you alone in the room with Miranda, forcing you to acknowledge her now. You shoved your hands in your pockets and sighed, you weren't expecting to see her again so soon.

You still hadn't had time to get your shit together after the last time you two spoke, or more like argued back and forth. Easily falling into a pattern as if you hadn't been centuries apart. You still weren't sure how you were supposed to feel about that.

“Take a seat, (Y/n). Would you like a glass of wine?” Miranda broke the silence but she didn't break eye contact with you once she caught you eye, holding you as if she physically had her hands on your face. “We don't have to talk if you don't want to, (Y/n).”

“Oh, so now we're suddenly interested in what I want to do?”

“Yes, of course. Wine?”

You scoffed, rolling her eyes at her typical answer and you wanted to say no, you opened your mouth to do so but instead you were getting closer to the table she was sitting at. She poured you a glass of wine, and handed it to you. You raised an eyebrow, she couldn't have set it down for you? She insisted on handing it to you and the way Miranda was holding the glass left you no choice to place your hands over hers to take it from her. Those gold claw rings were ice cold against your skin and the edge of one nicked your skin but not deep enough to draw blood.

You had no idea what you wanted to say to Miranda, you weren't ready to talk about what you two needed to talk about but you weren't sure if you could sit here and do small talk with her over wine. It was so easy for you to get up and leave, maybe go back to your guest room and lock the door. So what was stopping you? Why was it difficult?

Miranda, who had been watching you intently, interrupted your rapid thoughts, “You always were a loud thinker, (Y/n).”

“Nothing interesting, trust me.”

“Oh I beg to differ,” Miranda chuckled, shifting in her chair slightly to angle herself towards you a little more. You sort of hated yourself for thinking how well she was pulling off the priestess look, “I could always tell what you were thinking even from a mile away. You were always quite the unique distraction.”

“You never complained before.”

“No,” she agreed, her voice dropping an octave or two lower, “though I doubt I ever will.”

You looked up, she didn't look away and you didn't know what to think. And for once, even if it was just for a moment, you saw a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

“Miranda, what do you want? Why are you keeping me here?”

“Because we need to talk, (Y/n), to...clear the air as they say, I guess.”

“Yeah, okay, I got that part earlier,” you licked your suddenly dry lips, your nerves starting to buzz a little, “But that's not a good enough reason anymore.”

Miranda scoffed, actually rolling her eyes at you, “Why not? Closure heals the past. Doesn't it?”

“But what do you expect after that?”

“What do you?” she threw the ball back in your court as she refilled her own wine glass from a different bottle than what she used for your own, the wine she was using was a little darker and thicker. It didn't surprise you that the question was thrown back at you, she always did that when she was trying to keep the upper hand or get it.

But it didn't mean that the question wasn't a good one because what did you want after this? Would it even matter after all of this time? Have you ever forgiven her, really and truly moved on? Did she even care back then, did she care for you...or what you could do for her?

Miranda was watching you the entire time become lost in your thoughts, a trait you still carried with you. She picked up her wine glass and took a sip, her clear eyes taking you in while you were distracted enough to not notice her doing it so blatantly. You still looked the same as the last time she saw you, minus the murderous rage that had twisted your beautiful features that evening.

The modern world has touched many parts of you but your eyes still hold so much more than they did centuries ago. Being a warrior was now outdated and something of an historical myth but you still carried yourself as one, and Miranda could see new scars on your brown skin on the exposed skin she saw earlier on your neck and arms.

She'd been watching you for days before finally making herself known to you after going back and forth with herself during those agonizing days. Being far more irritable than she normally was and Miranda was positive that Lords Heisenberg and Moreau were quite sore with her at the moment. Well, Karl certainly would be. Seeing you made her angry...at first. Angry for the grief you left her with, the shatters you left her to pick up on her own.

Years of pent up thoughts and plans of revenge she'd enact when she got her hands on you came down to a single moment when she finally did get her hands on you and she couldn't do it. Miranda eyed your neck, where you should've still been bruised. She had you right where she needed you with one hand wrapped around your neck because you were so unsuspecting. It would've been so easy but she couldn't...so she knocked you out and threw you in a cell where she could keep a better eye on you. And perhaps no longer be so distracted from her work.

“Look who's thinking loud now.” you mumbled around the edge of your wine glass, finally taking a sip of the damn thing. Miranda wouldn't hesitate to bet that you assumed it was somehow poisoned even though you watched her open the bottle. “Good thoughts, I hope.”

Miranda hummed softly, “Do you really wish to know?”

You chuckled, and Miranda's eyes were drawn to the way your jaw clenched and unclenched when the wine hit your taste buds again, “With the way you were staring at my neck...it's not that hard to guess, Miranda.”

“You're only half right, my dear.” At your raised eyebrows, Miranda's smirk only widened, “My hands were wrapped around that strong neck again, but breaking it is far from my mind now .”

Your snort turned into a chuckle that was clearly infectious as Miranda joined you. Nothing was remotely that funny, if it was funny at all, but you were tired and the situation brought forth too many emotions for you, either of you to really process, and all you could was just...laugh.

Miranda was the first to sober up a bit though the smile never completely left her features. “Ah, and well... you know, it wouldn't do to try and kill the only other person on this wretched rock who knows me. Will it?”

You're very well the only person in this wretched world that will ever know the real me and still love me for it. Quite a miserable thought, isn't it?

You jumped when the door opened behind you and Alcina stepped into the room—you'd almost forgot where you were for a moment. Almost. Alcina took one look at the two of you, curious to find you actually still in the room much less sitting at the table sharing a glass of wine with Miranda. Especially with what she overheard earlier and how much tension you two create together.

Alcina knew that she interrupted something, probably something she had no business to but that did not stop her from sitting back down in her chair in her goddamn castle. And whatever drama that was happening within her territory was now her drama and she was going to get a front row seat. Alcina lit up another one of her cigarillos and pulled heavy before she released it in your direction.

“Running a business is quite the headache when no one else understands your vision, I swear. Don't have kids, (Y/n). They're messy and nothing but trouble.”

“Noted.” you forced a chuckle, not taking her bait but now you were trying to finish your wine as quickly as possible without seeming like you were trying to run.

“Well, how about it then, (Y/n)? Tell us a story, you couldn't have been a mercenary your entire life. Or have you?” You glanced at Miranda and saw that she was glaring at Alcina but the taller woman wasn't paying her any mind. And really, the only reason Miranda hasn't verbally intervened is because she was interested in your answer as well. Even if Alcina was asking just to poke at the situation for her own amusement.

“I've put away my shield and sword a long time ago,” you didn't bother to mention that you did keep them both in pristine condition just in case, “I've been enjoying the little things life has to offer.” lame. And a lie.

“Oh come now,” Alcina scoffed, not accepting your answer—it wasn't a very good one anyway, “That's—”

“Actually,” When it was clear that Miranda wasn't going to save you from this woman's nosiness (why would she?) You quickly drank the rest of the wine, it was really too sour for you, and rose from the chair. “I think I'll try to get some more sleep. Thanks for the wine and...yeah.” Could you be any more awkward?

Alcina was howling by the time the door slammed shut behind you and she took another pull from her cigarette stick, still paying no heed to Miranda's heated glare. “Oh, you're going to have to tie that one down if you want her to talk to you.”

“I will have your head if you stick your nose in my business again, Dimitrescu.”

“Then don't store your business in my castle.” Alcina shot back, meeting Miranda's glare head on but immediately conceded when she felt Miranda's growling through the vibrations of her glass in her hand that was still resting on the table. “Alright, alright...but you're always welcome to use my dungeons. Use chains though those biceps of hers could probably break through the ropes.”

“Alcina, that is enough!”

The Lady of the castle just laughed lightly until it tapered off into a pleasant hum around her famous Sanguis Virginis wine while watching Miranda readjust her face mask. Her eyes brighter than they have been the last few hours., Alcina pushed for one more question—deciding to risk Miranda's wrath, “How'd you ever let such a handsome creature slip between your fingers?”

Miranda sighed heavily, no pause in her strut to the door, “Egos and misunderstandings.” she was gone before the lock clicked into place.

I'm so sorry for being hella lazy, lol, I'll add the other chapters of this story today 😭😭😭😭

[morganaspendragonss]

Hello! Fic request please. Okay, so TK and Carlos never got together. During the Boba date, TK let Carlos know that they should be friends and Carlos understood. So they became good friends but TK just self sabotages a lot so he loved Carlos then but didn't want to let Carlos in so he thought it better to just let him go and settle for a friendship. So one day, they decide to check out this new place for lunch. TK excuses himself for the bathroom and he hears this huge explosion and feels the impact. When he gets out, it's a fiery mess. All that is on his mind: I have to find Carlos. Even when the 126 respond to the explosion, TK refuses to leave until he has found Carlos. Carlos is found unconscious, injured and with severe smoke inhalation. 📍

holly's august extravaganza day 13: couldn't utter my love when it counted

thank you! you've given me such wonderful prompts and it's been a pleasure to write every single one of them! 💚😊

ao3 | 3k | canon divergence, explosions, major character injury, angst with a happy ending, love declarations

TK has made a lot of mistakes in his life, but undoubtedly one of the biggest was letting Carlos Reyes go. He hates the person he was back then, the one who was too blind to see that what he needed—what he wanted—was right in front of him, in a very literal sense.

“How long are you going to avoid talking about it TK?”

“Us?”

“What are we? Are we even a ‘we’?”

TK wants to say yes. He looks at Carlos with his soulful brown eyes and kind tilt to his mouth and he just knows that this is someone he could let in. He’s already seen some of TK’s darkest depths, and yet he’s still here, still asking, still wanting to be with him.

Then again, Carlos isn’t the only one who has been with him despite, and the last person who did that ended up growing tired of him. Carlos would promise against it if he knew what TK was thinking, but it’s an impossible promise to make, far easier said than done. He isn’t that kind of person, TK knows this—but then, neither was Alex, until he was.

He can’t risk it. Besides, he barely recognises his life anymore, and he can’t ask Carlos to hang around indefinitely until he can get his head in order again. If there’s one thing TK is certain of, it’s that Carlos is a good man, and he doesn’t deserve to have to deal with all of TK’s bullshit, however much TK may want it.

So. That’s it.

“I like you, Carlos. I want to get to know you better. But as friends. I’m not in a place for a relationship—I don’t know if this is where I belong, or even if I can be a firefighter anymore. And I just. I just think that I have to work out who I am before I can let someone else in on that, you know? So… Can we? Be friends, I mean?”

Carlos would be well within his rights to say no, after all. But instead he smiles, a little sad, but still as gentle as ever, and says, “Sure. I’d love that.”

TK realised three things pretty quickly after that moment.

One: Austin is his home.

Two: He belongs at the firehouse—but as a paramedic.

And three: He is in love with Carlos Reyes.

But his moment has come and gone. That conversation is the kind that can’t be taken back; the damage has been done, and now TK has to live with the consequences. It’s not all bad—he still has Carlos in his life, and things are… Things are good. They hang out regularly, they have an ongoing text thread, there’s no awkwardness or resentment between them. All things considered, they’re in a better place than they were back during their pseudo-dating phase.

But still, TK misses him.

It’s a strange feeling, missing someone who’s right there beside him. TK hadn’t realised how much he would lose when they became ‘just friends’ for real, but now he finds himself noticing more and more the absence of a flirty twinkle in Carlos’s eye or the suggestive lilt to his words. There’s still an air around them, a sense that, if he just pushed a little, they could easily tip over into more. Into whatever they were on their way to becoming before TK drew his line in the sand.

He won’t, though. It wouldn’t be fair—Carlos has already put up with so much from him that it’s a miracle he’s even still around at all—and TK is not willing to risk what is now the best friendship of his life. If having Carlos in his life means keeping his hands to himself and forever refusing the urge to kiss him senseless, then it’s a small price to pay.

*

“You’re such an ass!” TK shoves Carlos lightly as they walk down the street, rolling his eyes at the smirk sent his way. “Why can’t you just suck it up and accept that maybe you don’t know Austin as well as you think you do?”

Carlos raises a solitary eyebrow. “Because I’ve lived here my entire life?”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Besides,” he cuts in, before Carlos can come back with some other stupid, logical argument, “this place only popped up a few months back so there’s no way you’ve had enough time to make a proper judgement.”

“And you have?”

“Shut up.”

Carlos laughs and, though TK tries to glare at him, he can’t help but be drawn into it. He shakes his head and looks down to avoid Carlos’s eyes, only for his gaze to catch on their hands, swinging in sync mere centimetres apart. How he aches to close that distance and thread their fingers together; to tell Carlos everything he’s been pushing down for months—

Carlos lifts his hand to run his fingers through his hair, and the moment is broken. If he noticed TK’s lapse, then he doesn’t show it, instead turning to him with an amused smile. “Alright,” he says, “how about this? You take me wherever this is, and next time, I’ll take you to the actual best pizza place in Austin; then we’ll see who’s right.”

TK wishes he could kiss that self-satisfied smirk off his face. See how smug he is then.

“Fine,” he agrees. “Prepare to eat your words, Reyes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

God, TK hates him.

*

Carlos is being infuriatingly quiet as they eat, and it’s grating on TK’s every nerve. TK is well aware he’s doing it for that exact purpose, but he’s never been known for his patience—a fact which Carlos knows all too well and is rudely taking advantage of.

“So?” TK demands, folding his arms on the tabletop. “Was I right, or was I right?”

Carlos hums, pretending to consider the slice in his hand with great care. Then, he meets TK’s eyes and drops it back on the plate, re-settling in his seat with a shit-eating grin. “It was okay.”

TK’s mouth drops open. He blinks at Carlos for a good few seconds, then snaps his jaw shut with a click, shaking his head and sighing. “I hate you,” he grumbles, refusing to look Carlos in the eye.

Carlos has the audacity to actually laugh. “No, you don’t,” he says, and he doesn’t know quite how true that is. TK feels a blush start to rise on his cheeks, which cannot happen, so he clears his throat and slides out of his seat.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he says. “Maybe you’ll have reconsidered by the time I come back.”

TK can’t stop a grin from forming the second he turns his back, his heart doing a stupid little dance in his chest. He doesn’t need a mirror to know that his face is bright red, and he’s going to have to splash a significant amount of water over him before he can even think about facing Carlos again.

He takes his time in the bathroom, stopping to stare at his reflection in the mirror for several minutes and trying to talk himself down from any more-than-friendly feelings towards Carlos.

Later, they’ll tell him that this saved his life.

But that won’t be for a long time, until after the smoke has cleared and the dead have been counted and the statements have been taken.

For now, TK steels his resolve and nods at himself, then turns to the door, a hand reaching out for the handle.

That’s when the explosion rips through the building.

*

He’s floating.

He’s… He doesn’t… Something’s not right. Something…

Underwater. He can’t hear anything and he’s floating and he’s underwater, except he can’t be because he was just in a restaurant with Carlos and they were talking and—and—

The world slams back into him with the force of a freight train and TK coughs as he instantly feels like his entire body is being compressed, his airways closing up. It takes a few seconds to realise his eyes are closed and several more before he can open them, only to be met with even more darkness.

He blinks—so he definitely has opened them—but he still can’t see a damn thing. Is he… He can’t be blind. He can’t.

TK’s chest tightens even further and the panic causes his limbs to twitch, to scrabble at the ground, and the movements must be enough to dislodge something because suddenly there’s light streaming into his eyes. He slams his eyelids shut instinctively, and it’s a long moment before he can crack them open again.

His surroundings come to him in bits and pieces. To his left, a pile of cracked porcelain—the sink, he realises. The floor glitters with a material TK can’t identify until he catches sight of his reflection in a shard of glass just in front of him. And on top of him, something heavy, rough—wood?

The door!

Slowly, agonisingly, he manages to shift to all fours, then to his knees, then finally staggers to his feet. He sways in place, watching the bathroom door hit the floor, and—that’s strange. It doesn’t make a sound.

He can’t hear anything, actually, aside from a faint, high-pitched ringing. The paramedic in him tells him that this is a bad thing, but he feels separate from both his brain and his body; he’s floating somewhere outside his body, this whole situation feeling like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare.

A thought drifts through his mind then. No, not a thought, a name.

Carlos.

He was with Carlos. He has to find Carlos.

TK stumbles forward, grabbing onto anything within reach as the battle to stay upright gets harder with each second that passes. An intense heat hits him as he makes it into what he thinks is the main seating area and the change in atmosphere is instant—thick, black smoke invades his lungs, sending him back to his knees, body heaving with coughs.

The restaurant is on fire and TK can barely keep his eyes open as he searches for any sign of Carlos. He forces his aching body further, any pain taking a back-seat as the need to find Carlos grows. He’s still not sure what’s happening or how they got in this mess, but he knows that Carlos is in danger, and TK isn’t going to let him die. Not now. Not ever, if he can help it.

He crawls through the restaurant, blind and deaf to where he’s going, but he’ll know it’s Carlos when he finds him. He knows he will. There’s nothing that could stop him from recognising Carlos.

TK doesn’t know what’s happening when he suddenly feels himself being lifted, something bulky being placed over his face. It’s a shock, the sensation of being able to breathe clean oxygen, and it goes to his head for a moment, the dizziness growing even as his vision begins to clear up.

He catches sight of 126 emblazoned on a helmet and familiar, worried eyes looking down at him, and that’s when it connects. His family are here, they’re here, but Carlos is still somewhere and TK is not leaving without him. He struggles in his father’s grasp, managing to squirm and flail enough to get his feet on the floor and for his dad’s grip on him to falter.

But the relief is momentary; no sooner is he standing than the vertigo and nausea takes over, and he crumbles.

This time, when the world goes black, it stays that way.

*

They tell him it was a gas explosion in the restaurant’s kitchen. They say he’s lucky to be alive, that his trip to the bathroom saved him. They say he needs plenty of rest and time to heal.

They don’t tell him anything about Carlos.

TK asks, he’s been asking since the moment he woke up in the hospital. But the team knows nothing and the doctors keep saying to focus on his own injuries rather than worrying about someone else.

Someone else, as if that’s all Carlos is. He’s the love of TK’s fucking life, but they might never get the chance to be anything more than friends; TK has seen the news. His dad had switched it off the second he caught him watching it, but he’d seen enough to know that survivors are few, and, of those, most of them weren’t as lucky as TK.

His injuries were serious, but they’ll heal. He’ll probably have scars from the shrapnel from when the explosion first went off and from the burns he acquired looking for Carlos, and he’s going to have one hell of a tinnitus case for a while, but it’s nothing. Less than nothing.

He’s alive, which, if Carlos is dead or dying, is far more than he deserves.

*

On his fifth day in hospital, they tell him he can go home later. He should be grateful, but it just feels like another thing that’s happened to him in a long line of things. He’s waiting for his dad to come back from picking his prescription up when there’s a knock at the door, and TK looks up to see an older Latino couple, the woman looking at him with a deep sadness in her eyes.

“I… Are you TK?” she asks haltingly.

TK frowns and nods, surprised by the relief that floods her face when he does. He doesn’t have to wonder for long, though.

“I’m Andrea. Carlos’s mother. This is his father, Gabriel.” She gestures to the man next to her, who nods at TK, his mouth pinched. TK swallows nervously, terror building in him at the thought of what Carlos’s parents could be doing here. “The doctors tell us you’ve been asking about our son,” Andrea continues. “We wanted to come and talk to you and give you the news ourselves.”

TK swears his heart stops in his chest. “Is he…”

He can’t get the words out, can’t put the idea into existence, but Andrea clearly picks up on what he’s thinking as she crosses the room, taking his hands in hers.

“He’s alive,” she says. “He… He lost a leg in the explosion and his lungs were damaged from the smoke, but the doctors have told us that the worst danger has passed. We’re just waiting for him to wake up now.” Andrea pauses, biting her lip. She looks at Gabriel, then back to TK, releasing his hands. “How do you know our son? Are you…”

“We’re friends,” TK says, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. “He’s the best friend I’ve got. Thank you for telling me.”

*

He leaves his number with Andrea and Gabriel, and they promise to keep him updated on Carlos’s condition.

Four days after TK goes home, he gets a phone call to say that Carlos is awake. He’s back at the hospital within the hour, racing as fast as he can (which, infuriatingly, isn’t very fast right now) to the room number they gave him.

The sight he’s greeted with just about takes his breath away.

Carlos smiles at him, and he’s covered in bandages and scrapes and he’s clearly exhausted, but he’s smiling, and TK swears he’s never looked more beautiful. He stands in the doorway for a long time, just staring at Carlos for the first time in nine days, so captivated by him that he doesn’t notice the knowing look that passes between Andrea and Gabriel.

“We’ll give you boys some time to catch up,” Gabriel says. He pats TK’s shoulder when they walk past him, and it’s enough to spur him back into action.

TK crosses the room in three quick strides, reaching for Carlos’s hand the second he’s settled in the chair. He almost sobs when he feels Carlos squeeze his hand back; it’s weak, more just a twitch of the fingers, but it feels like everything.

“Hi,” Carlos says, his voice quiet and raspy.

TK sniffs, opens his mouth to say hi back, but maybe the explosion knocked him about more than he realised, because what comes out instead is, “I love you.”

Their eyes widen at the same time, a flush rising on TK’s face as he processes what he just did. “I—I’m so sorry, Carlos, I—” He shakes his head and tries to pull his hand back, but Carlos’s grip tightens, keeping him firmly in place.

“Say it again,” he demands.

TK blinks. “What?”

“Say it again.”

He hesitates another second, but the slight uptick to Carlos’s lips gives him the confidence he needs to look Carlos in the eyes.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for the longest time and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t see it before. I was scared, and I thought I wouldn’t be able to handle a relationship, and I figured it would be easier to let you down than risk hurting us both when we inevitably realised it couldn’t work out.

“But I was so wrong, Carlos. Back at the restaurant, after the explosion, all I cared about was finding you and making sure that you were okay. I couldn’t stand the thought that anything might have happened to you, and I’ve been going out of my mind since it happened because I didn’t know how you were. I—I can’t lose you, Carlos.”

He takes a deep breath and blinks away the tears beginning to gather in his eyes, attempting a trembling smile to match Carlos’s own. “I love you,” he whispers. “If it’s too late, then I understand. I just. I need you in my life. I need you, Carlos. However you’ll have me.”

Carlos holds his gaze for a long time after TK has finished speaking, and it feels like he’s seeing right through him. Eventually, after so long that TK’s lost all sense of time, he slowly raises his hand, brushing his knuckles across TK’s cheek, then coming to rest on the back of his neck.

“I love you, too.”

And the light pressure from Carlos’s hand is all the invitation TK needs to close the distance between them, his heart pounding as he kisses Carlos for what feels like the first time.

Hopefully, it’s the first of many, and the first of the rest of their lives.

[villainess-noble-girl]

Title: The Repeater

An old man came up to us. 

Apparently, he seems to be a business partner of the Schneiver Company.

"Isabella, it seems that something went wrong. I'll finish this real quick, can you wait a bit on the bench over there?"

"It's okay, take your time." 

With that said, I headed for the bench and sat there. 

As I was looking at Ursch who was talking to the old man, a girl surprised me by calling out to me. 

"Eh? !! Isabella? Are you Isabella?"

When I turned to the voice, I saw a girl my age. She has shoulder length pink hair and looks very pretty. She has this innocent aura around her. 

"Um... Yes, but..." I'm unsure how to respond. 

Who is this young girl? She stared at her hands with a look of shock. 

"This is not the entrance ceremony of the Magic Academy... This is the first time I've returned as a kid..." 

When I looked at her with suspicious eyes, she suddenly raised her face and approached me.

"That's right!!! Isabella, how old are you now?"

"Well, I'm six years old..."

When I answered, she grabbed my hands and started to rejoice. 

"That's good!!! You are still six years old, right?!! I am Marieta. Marieta Preah!!!"

Marieta... It sounds familiar... 

Marieta... Marieta... Marieta... 

Ah!!! It's the heroine of <Love Magical> Yikes!!!

"Hmm? How does Marietta know me?" 

Speaking of which, she was muttering strange things like 'It's not the entrance ceremony of the Magic Academy' or 'Memories from back then'

No way?!! Is she also a reincarnated person like me?

No matter how much I think about it, I won't get the answer so it's better to directly ask. 

"Is Marietta also a reincarnated person?"

"Rein- What?" she just looked at me confused. 

"I want to ask if you have any memories of the life you lived before." 

Marietta instantly brightened. 

"You too!? Do you remember the last time? Do you also come back repeatedly? I'm so happy!!! I had given up but you really fulfilled your promise!" 

I'm not sure what's going on. 

While I'm trying to get a grasp of the situation, Marietta is ecstatic and teary-eyed. 

"This is the first time that I'm not alone... You were the only one who helped me... All this time..."

Marietta cried with joy and laughter. 

With the current mood, I didn't have the heart to tell Marietta that she's mistaken. I looked at her silently.

"Now that I think about it, it's completely different!!! My aunt is safe and we're going to leave the royal capital... Isabella, you are changing the future!"

Two women with pink hair call Marietta from a distance.

"I have to go now. The train is about to leave." 

I chased after Marietta.

I have to resolve the misunderstanding.

If I don't resolve the misunderstanding right now, I feel that it will be confusing later on. 

We walked side by side and I started to talk. 

"I think you misunderstood, Marietta. The memory of a previous life that I am talking about is living in a different world from here. So, I don't really know anything about the promise that you speak of." 

She looked shocked and sad hearing the truth. 

"So... you're not like me?" 

"I'm sorry, apparently not." 

Marietta sadly gets on the train with her mother and a woman who seems to be her aunt.

We stared at each other through the train window. 

Marieta, who was sitting by the window, opened the window and called out to me.

"Since you don't know, watch out for orange haired girls. When you turn seven, they will steal your life from you." 

What does that mean? 

"You may not believe me but I remember everything... I've been reliving this life countless times. After the world's destruction, I will go back to being fifteen years old and return to the first day of school at the Magic Academy." 

Does that mean you're looping? 

My face turned serious. 

I think I should listen to her properly. 

"Why is the world destroyed?" 

"I can't count how many times I've repeated this life. I tried to run away several times, wasting the opportunity of being able to return. It's useless because one way or another, the world perishes and I end up dying. The only fact I know regarding the world's end is that a great sage is heavily involved in it. 

A great sage involved in the destruction of the world. I don't know anything about that... 

Such a powerful character has never appeared or even mentioned in the game.

"Isabella, please believe me. You, who say have been reincarnated, are different from anyone I've ever met. You're my only hope..." 

Tears started falling from her beautiful eyes. 

At that time, the whistle rang and the train slowly began to move.

While walking along with the movement of the train, I look up at Marietta's beautiful pale green eyes.

"Okay. I believe you, Marietta. I will not let The Great Sage destroy the world. I promised my beloved fianceé that we will travel the world. I'll cooperate with you." 

I run alongside the train as it moves faster. 

Marieta leaned to the window and nodded while her tears endlessly flowed.

"Thank you. Thank you, Isabella... Please help me save the world!!!" 

I run and shout while nearly bumping into people.

"Yeah!!! I promise!!! This is a new promise!!! Leave it to me Marietta!" 

Marieta shouts from the train window as I stand at the edge of the platform. 

"Isabella!!! Please, rescue me from this never-ending world!!!"

[STATUS]

Human race: Marietta Preah (7) 

Lv12

HP: 30/30

MP: 41/41

Identity

[The eldest daughter of the Preah family in the Roserial Kingdom]

[Roserial Kingdom Citizen]

Job Skills

[Magician's Egg] [Swordfighter's Egg] [Cook] [Saint's Egg] [Healer] [Cleric] 

Special Skills

[Blessing] [Transfer]

Inherent Skills

[HP Consumption Mitigation] [HP Recovery Enhancement] [MP Consumption Mitigation] [MP Recovery Enhancement] [Lightning Magic] [Ice Magic] [Holy Magic] [Increased Strengthening Correction] [Space Magic] [Time Magic]

Skills

[Wind Attribute Magic] [Earth Attribute Magic] [Light Attribute Magic] [Wind Resistance] [Soil Resistance] [Light Resistance] [Cooking] [Collection] [Laundry] [Automatic Recovery] [Patience]

Title: Repeater (Replayer) 

I remembered what Ursch asked me to do the moment I encountered any game character. 

A lot of things don't make sense to me. Things left me with more questions than answers. 

--

I noticed that my fianceé is no longer on the bench. 

For some reason I felt a chill in my back and went straight to her location. 

I grabbed her and she looked at me with surprise. I forced myself to calm down. 

"Thank you for waiting. Let's go" I led Isabella away. I want to get her out of the train station as soon as I can.

"Ursch, you won't believe this! I met...-" 

I was too late.

Isabella told me everything the heroine told her. 

One thing is running through my mind while listening. I never should have left her out of my sight.

Contrary to her belief, the only reason I pulled some strings to help the heroine is to keep her away from Isabella. I didn't expect them to meet at the train station.

I didn't want her to meet anyone anymore... It's too dangerous. 

First things first, I should make that organization who is planning to harm my Isabella disappear. 

Fandom: The Villainess Wants To Marry A Commoner

Photo: Not mine

Credit: Click here

Note: I MTL-ed Chapter 86 of the Light Novel (and added some stuff in it.)

[honeyimthedevil]

Tattoo artist AU

Pairing: Peter Parker x Tony Stark

Word count: 2,2K

I wrote this for a friend's birthday and they let me post it

***

Peter cleaned the exes ink from the fresh tattoo and wrapped it. He explained to the person again what he can and can’t do and then walked him out of the salon. He changed the needle, cleaned the stool and sat down, waiting for his next client.

A sleek car pulled up in front of the salon. One very good-looking man got out of the Audi and looked at the sign on top of the shop. He opened the door, making the bell over in jingle.

Peter turned around at the sound of the bell and smiled.

"Welcome to Peter's tattoo studio! I'm Peter. How can I help you?" He walked up to the person, who turned around to face him.

"Hello darling," the man smiled back at him, "I believe I have an appointment to get my first tattoo"

Peter's mouth watered at the sign of the man in front of him. The male looked strangely familiar and very very handsome.

Peter reached for his notebook and looked over the names.

"You're Tony Stark?"

"The one and only" the man answered.

"Come with me, sir"

"Please, call me Tony"

"Okay Tony. You can sit here," Peter pointed to the stool, "Do you know what kind of tattoo you want? And where you want it?"

"Yes, I know what I want. But before I tell you, your tattoos look phenomenal!" He complimented, looking over Peter's arms.

"Thank you, Tony. Will you tell me what I'm gonna be doing, please?"

"Yes. Yes of course. I want it on my side. Here's a picture" Tony got a phone out of his pocket and scrolled a little before turning it to Peter. The boy took the phone in his hands and observed the picture. It was a single red rose with the words 'love is love' in cursive along the staple.

"Okay," Peter gave him back the phone, "Can you send me the picture. You can get comfortable. You can just lift your shirt or take it of, whatever you're comfortable with"

Tony took of his shirt, revealing his scared chest, and threw it on the chair next to the bed. He was quick with sending the picture, then he lied down on the side that wasn't getting tattooed.

"Take your time, Pete" he said, looking around the room. The boy took the colors he needed and put them, along with the gun on the rollable table. He went to the computer and clicked a few buttons. The printer at the corner of the table buzzed and a single sheet of paper appeared.

"How old are you?" Tony asked, looking over Peter.

"I'm gonna tell you only if you tell me first" the boy said, taking the sheet, a spray bottle and cotton balls and putting them on next to the gun, on the small table.

"I'm 45. Now you" Tony answered.

"You don't look 45. I thought you were 35 at max. I'm 19, turning 20 in a few months"

"You're young. I, to be honest, don't remember that part of my life really well"

"Why?" Peter asked, turning to Tony, "oh, sorry. That's a personal question. You don't have to tell me"

"It's okay. I was drunk most of the time, and high, and I don't mean I was tipsy kind of drunk. I was completely wasted. I stopped drinking anything other than beer when I was 30"

"Oh. I haven't tried anything other than beer. I'm still underage" Peter said.

Tony nodded, falling silent. Peter rolled his chair to the bed and put on gloves. He opened the bottle and poured some of the liquid on the cotton.

"Do you want it here?" Peter pointed around the middle of Tony's side.

"Yes"

Peter ran the cotton over Tony's skin and then threw it in the bin. He placed the print on the disinfected stop and pressed it for a few seconds, then put it aside.

"It's not supposed to hurt much. Tell me if it does" he explained, preparing the gun.

"Okay, Pete"

The boy turned it on and the room was filled with the buzzing sound. Peter made the first line and wiped the exes ink.

"How did that feel?" He asked.

"It didn't hurt at all. You can continue"

Peter nodded and continued with the stem.

"Tony, can I ask you something?" The boy said, breaking the silence.

"Of course"

"You seem very familiar, have we met before?" He wiped away the ink again.

"Do you buy New York Times' magazines?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with it?"

"I was on the cover a few months ago"

"You were?" Peter asked, amused.

"Yeah, because I confirmed I was gay. It's been a big scandal over the years, my sexuality"

Peter got lost in his thoughts for a second.

"Wait, you're Tony Stark, the CEO of stark industries?"

"The company is mine. I'm not CEO, though"

"You're a millionaire!" Peter exclaimed.

"A billionaire, actually. Don't treat me differently because of my money. I've had enough of that"

"I won't" Peter nodded.

"Can I- can I tell you a secret?" The boy asked.

"Um, yeah, if you want to"

"I'm bi. Nobody knows, well, except you"

"Still in the closet, I see. I completely accept you. Anything else you want to get of your chest?" Tony asked.

"I'm still virgin. Don't laugh at me please. I just haven't found the right person yet"

"I'm not gonna laugh at you Pete. It rare to see that these days. Let's be real, I'm the one in the wrong here, losing my virginity at 14" the man explained.

"You were 14?"

"Yep, and it was with a prostitute. I'm not proud of it" Tony wiggled.

"Don't move" Peter gripped Tony with more force

"Sorry"

An hour later Tony's tattoo was ready. Peter wrapped it and let the man sit on the bed.

"If I, hypothetically, asked you out what would you say?" Tony suddenly blurted out.

"Hypothetically, I'll say yes" Peter answered.

"When do you finish work? I'm gonna get you"

"You're my last client for today"

"Oh, then I'll wait for you to close and then imma take you for a coffee maybe?"

"Yeah, coffee sounds good" Peter smiled at him.

Peter started tidying up the studio, while Tony sat on the stool asking if he can help with anything and the boy saying no every time. Thirty minutes more later they were walking out of the shop.

"Is this your car?" Peter asked, pointing at the flashy yellow Audi parked in front of the studio.

"Yep, my favorite" Tony unlocked said car and opened the passenger door for Peter. The boy sat in and the man closed the door, going to his seat. He breathed in the smell of the car and started the engine, driving off.

"Which coffee shop do you prefer?" Tony asked.

"I make my own coffee at home. You choose, I don't know which is good"

"I make my own coffee as well. Do you wanna come to mine?" He proposed.

"Well, if you don't mind having a stranger in your house" Peter said.

"You're not a stranger. You're Peter" the boy chuckled.

"Okay, we can go to yours" Tony nodded and continued onward.

With the music in the background, the car drive was filled with chatter. They entered the suburbs and Tony parked before one of the fanciest houses Peter has ever seen. They entered the house with Tony being welcomed by his AI. Peter looked around amazed.

"Wow, this place is amazing" the boy exclaimed.

"Thanks," Tony said, leaning on the dark leather couch, "How do you like your coffee?"

"With lots of milk"

"Of course," the man chuckled, "you heard him, J" he told, looking at the ceiling.

"Okay, boss. One black coffee and one with a lot of milk will be ready in a minute"

"Thanks J. Do you mind if I go change?" He asked Peter.

"No, not at all. I'll advise you not to put a shirt on though and you can unwrap the tattoo, let it breath"

"Okay, I'll be back in a sec.

Tony walked down a corridor and Peter was left alone in the living room.

"Mr. Parker, your and sir's coffee are ready and are in the kitchen, the second room on your left"

"Um, thank you Jarvis"

Peter went to the kitchen and took the two steaming cups in his hands. He put them on the table in the leaving room and sat on the couch. Around a minute later Tony was back, now in a pair of sweats with white socks and no shirt on as Peter said he should do.

"Thank you again, the tattoo looks amazing" Tony said as he sat down and taking his cup.

"Well, after all, that's what I do for a living"

A comfortable silence fell over them, they sipped on their coffees.

"Do you plan on going to university?" Tony asked.

"I wanted to go. I was supposed to be in MIT, they accepted me and everything. But then I discovered my passion for tattoos after getting my first one when I was seventeen. I opened the studio when I was eighteen, almost two years ago. And I love my job, it pay the bills. So what else can I want?" Peter explained.

"That's good, that you like what you're doing" Tony agreed.

They started a small chat and before they knew it it was dark outside. When Peter acknowledged that he said, "I should better get going. I don't wanna bother you"

"You're not bothering me, Pete. And since you're already here, why don't you just stay for dinner as well?"

"Well, um, okay. I guess I can stay for dinner" the boy agreed.

"Amazing! I won't try to cook anything because I would probably poison you. What pizza do you like?"

"Pepperoni or margherita"

"JARVIS, order one pizza pepperoni and one margherita, please" Tony said.

"They're on the way sir," the AI said a minute later, "and will be here in twenty minutes"

"Thanks J"

"No problem, sir"

When the pizza arrived Tony put the two boxes on the table in front of them with a pile of napkins.

"Do you wanna watch a movie while we eat?" Tony asked.

"Why not. What movie should we watch?"

"I don't know. I heard that new animated Disney movie was good"

"Do you mean Frozen?"

"Ah, yes, that one. Do you wanna watch it?"

"I don't see why not"

Without saying anything else the movie started playing on the TV.

At the scene where Anna turned to ice and Elsa's love turned her back to life Tony looked at Peter. The boy was crying.

"I guess the tuff  guy isn't that tuff" the man said, voice laced with sarcasm.

"I have two arm sleeves of tattoos, yes. That doesn't mean I'm though. I'm actually very feminine. I wear panties and I like lingerie. I would wear skirts and crop tops but I'm scared of what would people think" Peter said through tears, clearly not thinking what he's saying.

"You wear panties?" Tony asked. The boy nodded and stood up, pushing his jeans down, showing his round ass in those black lacy panties he was in. He then pulled his pants back up and sat down wiping his eyes like he didn't just showed his ass. Tony stood there looking shocked. Peter turned to him and looked at him confused.

"Why are you.... I just showed you my ass" the realization hit him like a hard rock.

"Uh huh, you did" Tony agreed, still looking shocked.

"I'm sorry, I- "

"Your ass is amazing," Tony interrupted, "I like you even more now. Wanna see it again too"

"You wanna see my ass again?"

"Yes, and to squish it in my hands"

"I have an idea"

Peter stood up again and took of his jeans, leaving them on the floor. He crawled on the couch and lied on Tony's lap, ass up. The man looked down at him even more shocked than before.

"You'll let me touch your ass?"

"Yep" Peter wiggled, making his ass jiggle.

Tony's hands settled on the roundness, giving it a squish, making Peter giggle. He didn't move his hands after.

"Can we stay like this for a while?" Tony asked.

"Okay," Peter shook his head, chuckling, "but I have a better position for that" he moved so that he was sitting in Tony's lap, their chests pressed together and the man's hands on Peter's ass again.

"Yeah that one is better" Tony said.

They didn't talk much after that. Peter stayed cuddled in Tony's chest and soon found himself drifting off. His head was tucked in the crook of Tony's neck, the smell off his cologne filling the boy's nostrils. When the man realized Peter was asleep he stood up, the boy still in his arms, and walked to his bedroom. He put the boy down and lied next to him, cuddling him from behind. Tony fell asleep too, with Peter in his arms and said boy's ass pressed against his crotch.

[thedyingwriter]

BTS hybrid X Reader AU

Part 1 | Part 2

Character (age)

Kim Seokjin- Fox hybrid (28)

Min Yoongi- Jaguar hybrid (27)

Jung Hoseok- G. Retriever hybrid (26)

Kim Namjoon- Wolf hybrid (26)

Park Jimin- Cat hybrid (25)

Kim Taehyung- Panther hybrid (25)

Jeon Jungkook- Rabbit hybrid (23)

Reader- Dr Kang Seo Yoon (27)

Jaehyun- Seo Yoon's best friend and coworker. (25 for the sake of the Story)

Summary

{ Dr Kang Seo Yoon was a very successful researcher and doctor of the hybrids and worked at the hybrid welfare center. She lived with her six hybrids- Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook- who had grown up on her through the years when she found them at the rescue shelters. She was a kind and empathetic person who had used all her resources and knowledge for the betterment of the hybrid species. What will happen when she comes across an injured Panther hybrid Taehyung outside her house and decides to help him regardless of him being hardly human towards her. Will she take him in? Will he become a part of her sweet happy family? }

Chapter 1

The Injured Hybrid

" Wake up noona" Seo Yoon heard the voice of Jungkook shaking her from slumber. He nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck tickling her with his soft ears. She chuckled at his action and finally got up.

"Aish, kookie where do you get so much energy at 5 in the morning." You said gently rubbing his bunny ears. He purred.

"Noona everyone is sleeping and I have been up for a while. I didn't want to disturb you but you said you have to wake up early for your work today so I thought I should come and see" He said his cute smile on full display a faint shade of red on his cheeks.

"Let's go and make some breakfast for everyone then, you can help me" She said getting down from her bed and following Jungkook towards the kitchen. The 23 year old was always cheerful making sure everyone around him is happy too. For his age he definitely acts like a cute lil toddler but she loved him dearly.

"Kookie I plan on making fried rice and omelette for breakfast. I'll start with the rice could you whisk me some eggs?" She told him and he nodded while grabbing a large bowl and a crate of egg from the fridge.

Seo Yoon was cutting the vegetable when Jin walked in the kitchen his hair a mess. "Good morning Jin oppa" "Good morning hyung" You and Jungkook said at the same time.

She felt gentle hands at your back, untying your apron. “I can take over Y/N, why don’t you go take a bath? You have to be at the center early for the rounds right? " Jin said shaking your hair.

“Thank you oppa, what Would I do without you” she said, stepping away from the stove. If Seo Yoon weren’t cooking, Jin was. He loved the activity ever since you taught him how. Soon enough he surpassed her skills, creating mouth-watering dishes. In thanks, she rubbed his dark fox ears. He leaned into your touch, fluffy tail swaying.

"Noona shall I go and wake all the hyung while you get ready? " Jungkook asked.

"Yes kookie that would be really helpful. Tell them all to brush their teeth and come for breakfast. " She said and walked back to her room to get ready for the day. Seo Yoon and Jaehyun had to work hard today. It was an open out patient day and different shelters were bringing their hybrids for checkups. She took a shower and dressed up in jeans and a formal shirt tying her hair in a ponytail her beautiful bangs covering her forehead. She could hear the commotion of the boys from the kitchen. She took her white coat and some files and walked out towards them.

All of them were sitting on the counter eating their food. All the 6 hybrids looked cute in messy hairs and pyjamas while stuffing their mouths with food. She took out your phone and clicked a picture. The sound of the shutter gathering everyone's attention. Despite most of them being younger than her, she insisted on them calling her by her name as she felt really old though Jungkook still called her noona because he always wanted an elder sister.

" Aahh Seo Yoon, you look so pretty. Come join us for breakfast " Hobi said wagging his tail happily. She went to sit with them patting each of their hair as they smiled at her. Yoongi took her in a hug and passed her a travel coffee container filled with her favorite drink which he made each morning for her. She took a sip and groaned in pleasure while everyone laughed at her love for coffee which she shared with Yoongi. " What would I do without you Yoongi oppa. I can hardly work without your coffee. " She said and sat down to eat her breakfast.

*****

After breakfast Jimin went and kept her files and coat inside her car and Jin packed her lunch. She picked her bag and was ready to leave. Namjoon came to her and gave her a hug. It was their thing. Every hybrid hugged her before she went out showing affection. She kissed Joonie's cheeks and then hugged Hobi. Jimin and Jungkook group hugged her nearly trampling her on the floor with so much force and enthusiasm. Yoongi kissed her cheek as she went out to her car where Jin was ready to drive her to the center. He liked driving her and would spend an hr with shelter kids helping around and come back in an hour. His dark green silk scarf which acted as a collar sat perfectly on his neck. Jin dropped her at her office saying goodbye and going towards the shelters behind the building.

Seo Yoon entered her building and was immediately met with the strong smell of hospital which she has grown to call home now. She went to her locker and changed into her scrubs and came to her office which she shared with her best friend Jaehyun who as usual was late as always. 10 minutes later you heard the door open and a panting Jaehyun in his scrubs appeared before you.

"I'm sorry I'm late, before you say anything Seo Yoon, Ik it's third time this week and today we have a busy day ahead of us but what can I do I was watching a drama at night and couldn't get up early because of lack of sleep. " He ranted in a breath going on and on about how the protagonist if the drama was so stupid for not understanding the guy loves her.

She shook her head. " Aeyah!! stop talking Jae before I murder you. One day I'll give you a nice trashing for how casually you take me. " She said with a pout. He laughed at her and hugged her as she melted into giggles. She can never be mad at the kid. He was way too sweet and cute.

Somebody knocked at the door and a nurse appeared. " Dr Kang and Dr Jaehyun, the patients are here. We can start with the day. " She said and left.

******

Jae and Seo Yoon sat at the table and opened their lunches. Jin always packed food for your best friend who loved his food even though Jaehyun himself was an excellent cook.

"I'm coming to your place for the weekend. I really miss the boys. It's been a while. And this week we even have the Saturday off from shelter duty" Jae said with his mouth stuffed. She has lived so much around boys now that it's hard for her to remember what sophisticated people looked like.

"Why don't you just move in with me. You already live at my place nearly all the time when we aren't working" I scoffed. Her place is more or less like an open motel for her friends to stay in whenever they want considering the size of her big real estate. After her father's demise when she inherited his wealth. She decided to make a big place where she can adopt some hybrids and live happily. It had literally all the required materials a person could need to survive in luxury. She really had spoiled all the boys with 24x7 wifi and gaming.

Jaehyun shook his head and laughed at her scowled face. He loved teasing the older girl.

"Why noona that's an excellent idea. I'll have an amazing time with the boys and get free food. " She got up and punched his arm. She absolutely did not liked being called noona.

"I told you not to call me noona or I'll give you a good trashing. " She angrily chewed on her fish.

"Ayee you are biased Seo Yoon, why does jungkook gets to call you noona and all of us don't. " He teased her further.

"Well if you really want an answer he is more cuter, is good at everything, doesn't gives me a headache every 10 minute and definitely isn't a constant pain in my ass. " She said laughing and Jaehyun threw her a dirty look.

*******

When Seo Yoon left the hospital in the evening it was quite late then usual. Jaehyun had left half an hour ago but she stayed looking at the shelter kids who ran around each other enjoying life without a worry. She had a smile on her face and a tear in her eyes as she walked back to her home. She always liked walking back to home and it wasn't an issue as it was a highly safe residential society with great love for people and hybrid. She felt someone's presence behind her and immediately knew who it was.

"Jin oppa you didn't have to come I was on my way. " She said and turned to see a flustered Jin caught following her. He was worried that she was coming home alone so late and thought to accompany her.

"How did you know it was me? Do you have a secret third eye behind your head or something? " He said and took your backpack from you holding your hands firmly.

"Well I have been around you since the beginning. It's easy to feel your presence. It's a girl thing. " She said and looked in the front. They were very close to their home.

A young man clad in black outfit was walking in front of them. He had a slight limp and looked almost drunk from pain. As if he was drowning his sorrows. He was limping towards the other side when he suddenly disappeared from their eye sight.

"Oppa did you see that? " She asked Jin. Jin pulled her behind him and they both walked quietly towards the road crossing. A black van was parked ans the man from earlier was being pushed inside it. He was being abducted. 2 men pushing him inside. Jin quickly rushed towards the van. He pulled the man from the goons hold and layed the now almost unconscious man on the road side. This gave the goons time to flee. Jin was about to go after them when Seo Yoon stopped him.

She immediately knelt beside the man. He wasn't drunk. He was badly injured. His abdomen was bleeding and his legs were tampered. She tried helping him.

He groaned as she touched him to treat his wounds. He immediately backed up at an inhuman speed. This shook both of them.

"He's a hybrid oppa. We need to help him. " Seo Yoon said and Jin immediately called Yoongi to keep first aid ready.

The hybrid's cap fell from his face revealing two soft black cat like ears. His tale was brilliantly tucked in his pants not giving anything away that he wasn't human. He immediately tried fleeing from the human who looked at her with her almost teary eyes but he couldn't. He did not have the strength. He collapsed in her arms his world going black as the last thing he saw was the beautiful face of a teary eyed angel who somehow did not look like she wanted to harm him like other humans.

Seo Yoon was almost gonna cry after seeing the hybrid. He fell in her arms. His life almost slipping away. Jin picked him up and they rushed inside the house towards the guest room. Yoongi and the boys had kept all necessary medical aid that they know Seo Yoon kept for emergency on a table nearby. They were as astonished as the duo seeing how badly injured this hybrid was.

"What happened to you" Seo Yoon wondered out loud.

A/N: this is my first hybrid au. I hope you all enjoyed this. Please like comment and reblog if you liked it. I'll post next part soon. Put your name in the comment section below to get tagged in the next part.

[siennahrobek]

Future Past

“Your father was my best friend.”

Hearing about his father was something Luke always wanted to know, no matter what it was or what time of day it occurred. Ben always had the best stories about the young Jedi knight; a phenomenal pilot who fought fiercely for those he loved. There was the longest time where all Luke wanted was the chance to meet him, to know him like Ben had.

Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru didn’t talk about Anakin Skywalker, aside from the brief he was a space freighter pilot, and he was dead. They were always so cautious when he asked about him and got even more worried when Luke showed signs of wanting to be a pilot. It had made the hand carved wooden gifts of ships that were left on his grandmother’s grave even more special. Like there was silent support from them but not wanting to make it clear because of their feelings when it came to his father. It had taken quite some time before Luke had realized that neither Uncle Owen or Aunt Beru were the ones making and giving them. It had taken even longer for him to realize it had been Ben.

When Ben had taken him in, it had not been long for him to confess that he knew Luke’s father. Not just knew him, was friends with him. Luke learned so much from Ben’s stories and more often than not, Ben was absolutely calm and willing to share them. His father hadn’t been a simple space freighter pilot but actually a General in the Clone Wars and a crazy good pilot.

Luke wasn’t too bad himself, if he was being honest.

He craved more and more, and Ben had never run out of stories to share. It was like he and Luke’s father had spent a lifetime on adventures and soon, Luke even asked about any adventures he had that didn’t include Anakin Skywalker, ones stretching as far back as to Ben’s childhood, when he was Luke’s age and more. Because it wasn’t long before he loved Ben too. He felt connected to him immediately, drawn by some unnamed feeling that made him feel safe and warm and right. They just clicked together.

Ben told Luke about the Jedi Order, an entire culture like him – with the Force, as Luke learned the named feeling was – that defended and helped people the best they could. Always happy to talk about it, Luke never had a lack of questions to ask or Ben a lack of stories to tell. It made Luke dream about it, not just his father, but the Jedi and the Order as well. Thousands of people with lightsabers and abilities like his, connecting with one another and others, striving to make the galaxy a better place. A huge, beautiful Temple where they all lived and played and worked. Boundless knowledge and a thousand waterfalls. Luke would dream about it so hard, as if he did it enough, he would get that chance.

And Ben could get that back.

It didn’t work but that didn’t stop Luke from trying.

Their longest conversation about Ben’s past, with the Jedi and with his father, had been on a ship they had gotten a hold of while in hyperspace. It was one of the real small ones where there was little room to do anything but read and talk. Luke, young and eager, had curled up into Ben’s side with the older man’s cloak wrapped around his form and asked question after question. Ben nearly always had answers.

“And then I told him, good job,” Ben continued, his hand waving for emphasis. Luke giggled. Even being as young as he was, had quickly learned a lot of Ben’s wits. He knew his tones and expressions and he loved learning about them. Ben was the constant in his life. No matter where they were or what was happening, Ben was there to keep Luke safe and warm and happy as he could. And Luke learned him in return.

“You didn’t mean it,” he cackled, finding that hilarious. “You were sarcastic.”

Ben just smiled warmly down at him. “Ah yes, a bit of a flaw of mine, I suppose. As I have been told. His care and determination may have been commendable, but he also nearly got his charge and himself killed. We were chained to the poles when the Geonosians – they are a bit like giant insects –,” Luke squealed in delight as Ben continued, describing the physical attributes of his former captors. “They had released these three large beasts, starving and angry, to kill us.”

“They were hungry?”

“Yes Luke. It wasn’t their fault. The Geonosians had not given them any food and they were desperate. They wanted to survive,” Ben explained gently.

“Did they?”

“Sadly, no, beacon,” Ben murmured. Luke tucked in closer.

“That’s sad,” he murmured. “Did they hurt a lot?”

“They were taken care of, quickly, youngling. They felt little pain,” Ben assured. Whether it was true or not, it was to spare Luke pain. “The young Senator had freed herself and soon after, so did Anakin and I. There was a brief battle with the animals, your father had even calmed one enough to assist us. And then, Master Windu came with two hundred other jedi.”

Luke’s eyes widened. “Two hundred?” he questioned, disbelievingly.

“Two hundred,” he repeated. “They were all very brave.”

“Two hundred,” Luke echoed. “That is so many! I wish I could have seen them.” He wished he could have met them. Talked with them. Bonded with them. Ben’s eyes softened, as he ran a hand through Luke’s blonde hair, his voice lowering and his grief, although muted with shields, palpable within the force.

“I wish that too, dear one. More than you know.”

Present Past

Anakin couldn't stop staring at the teenager who wouldn't leave Obi-Wan's body and the growing irritation in the pit of his stomach just got worse. He was just ready to tackle this person and get to his former master’s side. What right did this child have, taking him away? Anakin was his padawan, former or not, and that would never change.

They had all gotten to the gunship without any setbacks. The troopers hadn't been able to salvage anything more than Obi-Wan's droid, R4, from the crashed ship, although were a little surprised with the extra addition of the boy. There was nothing in the desert to suggest where he had come from. No one had any real idea how this had happened or who this person really was. The name Luke meant little to nothing to Anakin or any of the others in their little entourage.

The boy was still tense around them, although Luke seemed vaguely calm around Rex - but only Rex - and they had all gotten into the gunship Anakin and the others had come in on. He had settled into the corner of the ship, carefully keeping Obi-Wan next to him. The older man had yet to make a move or give any indication that he would awake but Luke just adjusted the robes and brushed the light bangs from his face, giving frequent glances, eyes furrowed as he appeared as if he was studying Obi-Wan’s face.

Luke wasn't much younger than Anakin, perhaps a few years. Still a teenager but an older one. His hair was a sandy blonde, sweeping like bangs across his forehead. He was dressed in simple robes similar to most of those in the galaxy, although his were a little lighter, including the Jedi, with sand-covered boots. He didn’t even seem to mind the sand that much, not even bothering to wipe some of it off. Anakin did, however, constantly trying to work through the grains out of his mechanical hand and dusting off his clothes.

As they got settled into the ship, another trooper, who had previously stayed behind, tried to approach but Luke just glared fiercely, clutching Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. The trooper backed a step, out of the way of the blade that would surely pop up if Luke pressed just a tad more on the ignition.

"He's a medic, Luke," Rex murmured, assuring. It did little to dissuade the boy, but he didn’t ignite the blade so perhaps it could be counted as a win.

"What is your name?" Luke asked, eyeing the trooper.

"Lakeside, sir," the trooper responded.

Luke paused but it seemed to be the wrong answer. "My apologies, Lakeside, but I think it would be best to wait."

"Wait?" Anakin hissed, stepping forth. Everyone eyed him warily. They knew one wrong move could prove fatal for any one of them, including Obi-Wan. “He is bleeding, he can’t wait!”

Luke just ignored him and turned towards the two men at the front which just made Anakin bristle even further with anger. Ahsoka put a hand on his arm in attempt to calm him. It didn’t work very well. "Pilot, where are we heading?"

"General Skywalker's star ship, the Resolute," the co-pilot answered.

Luke’s mouth twitched. "Is the ship Negotiator, here?"

"No, sir."

The boy hummed and looked away, back towards Obi-Wan. He thought about this for a moment. "Fine. Is Medic Kix on the ship?"

Anakin blinked at him, blankly. How did this boy know all of this? How did he know Kix? How did he know Obi-Wan? Where did he come from? What did he want? A million questions were screaming and running around in Anakin’s head, making everything hurt.

The co-pilot answered for him. "Yes sir."

"We would appreciate his assistance then when we board," Luke nodded with his request. He didn't seem too pleased with the lack of Obi-Wan's ship, but Anakin was more concerned that he knew about specific ships and specific soldiers.

"Who are you?" Anakin demanded, stepping forward again. Luke's response was to get in front of Obi-Wan, protectively covering him with his own, a bit smaller, body. "How do you know my trooper's name? How do you know Obi-Wan?" he demanded. His hands had curled into fists, and he gripped them so hard his mech hand had actually creaked. The ship was into the air now, with the outer doors locking. The area became dark before the dim lights flickered on overhead.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Luke snorted but he sounded rather amused. That just infuriated Anakin more.

“On what?”

“Anything.”

Anakin’s lip curled and he nearly drew blood. “Look, kid. I don’t have a lot of patience right now. You are holding my master hostage, you came out of nowhere acting like you knowhim, and I really, really need some answers if you want to stick around.”

Luke stared at him, as if sizing him up for a challenge. “I warned that you wouldn’t believe me, but I will tell you some things anyways,” he sighed. “I suppose the Jedi are still around, the clones are still serving with them, and the Republic isn’t yet in shambles?”

There was a moment of silence as everyone looked at him, confused and surprised. “What do you mean? The Jedi and clones are fighting in a war together for the Republic,” it was Ahsoka who answered this time. She had been able to get a little closer to Luke, but he didn’t let even her get too close to Obi-Wan.

“Unless this is a really, really crazy hallucination, which actually might be possible considering where Ben and I were not a moment ago,” Luke started. “The only other option is that we have somehow went back in time. Me, physically, because if this is still the Clone Wars, then I haven’t been born yet and Ben…Ben must have gone back to his body of this time since he looks…younger now,” Luke explained with a shrug.

“Time travel?” Captain Rex asked, skeptically.

Luke nodded. “Yeup. It kinda happened to Ben’s colleague, Fulcrum, although I think that was different. She had been plucked from a moment in time forward from a Temple by someone else. Ben and I were in a warm, glowing cave. I blinked and then I saw you all,” he added with a shrug. “But like I said, it could also very possibly be a hallucination too. I had been in the middle of a sandstorm beforehand.”

“This is ridiculous,” Anakin replied, flatly, shaking his head. Grains of sand had fallen from his hair. “There is no such thing as time travel. You are playing us, and I don’t know what you want but you aren’t getting it. So, you are going to give me back Obi-Wan and-.”

“You really think I am playing you?” Luke asked, interrupting with a lip curled in incredulity. “I literally agreed to go to your star destroyer ship, which, I imagine, would be filled with troops. I wouldn’t have stood a chance if I were playing you,” he snorted and rolled his eyes. “Ugh, Ben’s stories were always so good, he never made it seem like you were dense.”

“His stories?” Ahsoka asked, curiously. “Who is Ben?”

“Ben,” Luke gestured to Obi-Wan. “He had to change his name when we went into hiding because well, he’s kinda famous. But he would tell me tons of stories about the Jedi, before and during the war.”

“Did we win?” Rex asked although hesitantly. He was taking this a lot better than other probably would have.

Luke looked up to him, uncertainly. “I suppose that largely depends on one’s point of view.”

Anakin narrowed his eyes. That sounded more like something Obi-Wan would say. He had always tried to explain things from different points of view. The knight had rarely thought it mattered. “Are you going to tell us? Or just keep playing these games?”

The boy shrugged and took a breath. “I think Ben would be able to explain it better. I don’t know a whole ton about the end of the war, as I was just a baby when it was over.”

“We are about to dock, sirs,” the co-pilot called back. Luke clutched Obi-Wan tighter as the rest of them took hold of the varying hand holds within the ship. The landing was a bit clunky, nearly knocking a few of them off balance, but the doors opened and artificial light from the docking bay on Anakin’s ship shone through brightly.

“Tell Kix he has a patient and to get the medical bay ready,” Anakin ordered a nearby trooper. The clone nodded and ran off quickly. Rex slowly approached Luke and helped him up, taking a lot of Obi-Wan’s weight, making sure to telegraph his movements. The less jumpy the teenager was, the better. “Let’s get to the medical bay,” Anakin told them, obviously peeved, which made the soldiers around him scatter as best they could. No one liked being around an angry or irritated Skywalker. “The sooner we get Obi-Wan some help, the sooner he wakes up and the sooner I can get answers on you,” he pointed at Luke, deliberately. “You better hope he knows who you are.”

Luke hoped that too. He didn’t want to be alone.

[gay-jesus-probably]

Bisexuality didn't "feel right" as a label because you're biphobic and will do anything to distance yourself from bisexuality. Get well soon, the bi community will be here when you're ready.

Are you the raging homophobe anon back for round two or a new guy? ...It doesn’t really matter, you people are all the same.

If you are the same anon, then now I’m extra pissed off at you because do you have any idea how difficult it is to make fun of your messages? You’re making this really hard for me. First you send a five word ask declaring me a homophobe with no details, and it took a lot of thinking to come up with a vaguely funny response to such a lackluster prompt. You’re a really bad improv partner.

And now you send me this shit. Sorry everybody, no jokes today, now I’m actually just fucking furious.

Let me tell you a story, anon. When I was an innocent little twelve year old back in the far of reaches of 2011, I first discovered Tumblr, and soon enough I was learning about different genders and sexualities, and began exploring my own identity. As you already know since you’re sarcastically quoting me talking about my own fucking feelings, I’d been having a minor sexuality crisis for several years at that point, since gay, straight and bisexual were the only label I’d known before then, and none of them fit me. Despite me trying all of them. Multiple times. You condescending piece of shit.All this was resolved by me stumbling across a post defining pansexuality, and that being the first and only sexual identity that’s ever actually felt right for me. It clicked instantly, and has continued to be my sexuality for literally a decade now.

But back when I first started entering the queer community, pansexuality was actually pretty controversial. So was bisexuality. The two were just lumped together actually, because according to the exclusionists back then, bi/pan people are attracted to the opposite sex, and therefor are basically just straight. Actually they rarely cared enough to bother differentiating between bisexual and pansexual people, they just lumped us all in together as a bunch of heteros pretending to be gay for attention and oppressing the real gays. What a bunch of special fucking snowflakes, pretending to be gay for attention. So there I was, a twelve year old queer kid with a brand new identity, being welcomed by a bunch of exclusionists angrily yelling about how I was definitely just a hetero faking it for attention, and being pansexual was Wrong and Bad. But it was okay, because the exclusionists knew better than me. They knew how I really felt, and what my real identity was. They could fix me. I just had to agree with everything they said and become the person they decided I was supposed to be.

I didn’t do that.

Let’s jump forward a few years. I was older, and still perfectly confident in my identity as a pansexual. I hadn’t considered any other parts of my identity. Why would I? I just never really thought much about gender. Then shortly after my fourteenth birthday, I watched a short film online about a trans boy figuring out his identity and working up the courage to come out to his mother. I don’t remember what it was called or most of the details. All I remember was the last scene where the boy and his mother got into an argument about him not feminine enough, which ended with him screaming that he wasn’t a girl. And then I unexpectedly burst into tears because neither was I.

So that was a fun surprise. Once I pulled through that unexpected sobbing breakdown in the middle of the night and re-evaluated my entire life, I realized that yeah. I really wasn’t a girl. I wasn’t a boy either. Fortunately by then I knew that nonbinary people were a thing, so I had plenty of options. I spent awhile feeling things out and experimenting with different labels and pronouns before finally settling on agender and they/them pronouns. Which was great! I felt better than ever, and was confident that I had my identity down and everything would be fine. But everything was not fine. Because I’d been so happy about the biphobia dying down that I hadn’t quite noticed the exclusionists switching targets. Now the nonbinary people were lying. What a bunch of special fucking snowflakes, pretending to be queer for attention. The ones who wanted to medically transition were declared to actually be poor confused trans people who couldn’t get over their internalized transphobia to accept their True Identities. And the rest of us... well, we were just a bunch of cishet special snowflakes playing at being trans for attention, and oppressing the real trans people. I wasn’t agender. I was a cis girl making up fake identities for attention, and calling myself nonbinary was Wrong and Bad. But it was okay, because the exclusionists knew better than me. They knew how I really felt, and what my real identity was. They could fix me. I just had to agree with everything they said and become the person they decided I was supposed to be.

I didn’t do that.

Step forward a few more years, now to eighteen year old me. There’s no dramatic revelations or long struggles this time, just a slow realization. Because I’d been single for years, and I wasn’t bothered by that. I actually enjoyed it. Marriage didn’t sound very appealing. Neither did dating. I’d dated people before, but I wasn’t sure if I actually wanted to; it was just... the thing I was supposed to do. I found people attractive, sure. But I hadn’t wanted to flirt with anyone. Actually, now that I was thinking about it, had I ever felt romantically attracted to anyone? I didn’t even want romance in fiction! So I experimented. Went on some dates just in case age made it more appealing (it didn’t). Began calling myself aromantic, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the longer I used it, the better it felt. It was right.

But once again, the exclusionists were back and even angier than ever. Because now aphobia was in full swing. After all, asexuality wasn’t really queer. It’s just not having sex! It’s basically straight! What a bunch of special fucking snowflakes, pretending to be queer for attention. And the aromantics, oh the aromantics who weren’t asexual were even worse. Because everyone knows that love is what makes us human. How could someone not feel romance? Us aro people weren’t just lying about our identities, we were pretending to not have feelings so that we could get away with using people for sex without commitment. Being aro meant I was an abusive sex crazed monster taking advantage of all the poor innocent allo’s. I wasn’t aromantic. I was a sexual predator making up a fake identity to take advantage of people, and even though I wasn’t actually sleeping around calling myself aro was Bad and Wrong. But it was okay, because the exclusionists knew better than me. They knew how I really felt, and what my real identity was. They could fix me. I just had to agree with everything they said and become the person they decided I was supposed to be.

And I didn’t fucking do that.

Look. I’ve been here for a very long time, and I have dealt with so many versions of exclusionist bullshit. Every aspect of my identity has been met with random fucking strangers online smugly informing me that I was wrong about myself and they were right. And that’s just the ones that wanted me to pretend to be something else; about half of the exclusionists didn’t make any attempts at conversion therapy, and instead skipped straight to suicide baiting. I’m not even getting into the actual homophobes I’ve had to deal with, or the TERF’s that have come after me under the assumption that I’m a trans woman. My point is, I’m pretty fucking used to this sort of thing.

This just hurts a little more, because like I said earlier, the first round of exclusionism I faced was just expanded biphobia. And the bi/pan community banded together in the face of that. We weren’t the exact same identities, but we were being treated the same, and we were similar enough that nobody really minded the difference. It was wonderful. Bi and pan people were a tightly knit group, and that was a sense of community I desperately needed when I was young. I’ve been seeing this coming for awhile. There’s been increasing amounts of bi people getting drawn in by exclusionist bullshit, and I’ve seen anti-pansexual sentiment growing. I just... really hoped it wouldn’t get this far. It’s sad, y’know? It feels like losing an old friend. I’m really disappointed that you think trying to force people out of their community is right. It’s fucking pathetic, and I hope that someday you’ll rediscover basic compassion and realize how much damage you’re doing to yourself and others. This sort of thing doesn’t help the bisexual community. It drives people away. It’s like the damage that TERF’s have done to the lesbian community; this sort of thing poisons the whole well. I hope you re-evaluate what you’re doing and find a more healthy mindset.

...But also at the same time: Who the fuck do you think you are? Take your condescending bullshit and shove it directly up your ass you fucking waste of oxygen. How the fuck dare you. Do you realize the fucking audacity it takes to claim to know someone's identity better than they do? You self centered egotistical douchebag. Your parents should feel ashamed for having raised such an utter failure of a human being. I’d tell you to go fuck yourself, but I can already tell you beat off twice a day to how fucking clever you think you are. If you ever darken my inbox again you’d better be damn sure you keep it anonymous, because if I find you I’ll kick your fucking teeth in, you smug piece of shit.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Revelation

Rated PG-13 For mentions of abuse, trigger topics such as suicidal thoughts, torture, language, and kidnaping.

Masterlist

~I am not the only traveler

And then I can tell myself

I had all and then most of you

When the night was full of terrors

There aren't very many things worse than watching one's little brother die. I think the only thing worse than that is enduring it twice. I had already had to watch Jasper be slaughtered like a pig in front of me. Wasn't that torture enough for a lifetime? Was having to salt and burn my own brother the universe's twisted idea of a joke? This wasn't funny!

What kind of cruel world was I living in? Why did my last words to my precious little brother have to be empty promises? How was that okay? Jasper would spend the rest of eternity waiting for me to show up, tell him my stories, and tuck him into bed, but I never would. Because if I lived, I would be stuck down here on this awful planet, reliving the same day over and over and over again. And if the Winchester's decided to kill me when they found out what I was, then I wouldn't be going to heaven. I already knew where I would go. It wasn't anywhere good.

Well, if my life was a joke then I hoped at least somebody was getting a kick out of it.

I knew I wasn't.

From the top of the stairs, I heard Sam, Dean, and Cas open the sliding glass door and shuffle outside. Jack firmly insisted on staying here. He probably thought he should stay in case I ' needed him ' for comfort or something.

'Well, joke's on you, puppy, cause I don't need anyone.' I thought, bitterly. I traveled down the dark hallway to my room, the one with the plain white door all the way down on the end. The door opened with a soft click and squeaky hinges and I kicked it shut behind me.

My room was exactly how I had left it. Not a single thing was out of place. Of course, it was about as far away from immaculate as anything can get. There were pieces of paper strewn all over the desk, plenty of wadded-up sketches in the trash can and even more outside the trash, pencils were left in strange places, and mix-matched fairy-lights draped over  way  too many things. Miscellaneous articles of clothing were draped over a chair, clustered around the laundry basket, crumpled on the bed, and a few were even hanging from the doorframe of the closet. The bed wasn't made, the blankets and sheets hopelessly tangled together and there was an atrocious number of glow-in-the-dark stars glued to the roof. Oh, and let us not forget the rainbow-colored streamers hanging from the ceiling fan, so really everything was just an absolute mess.

But it was a comforting mess and that's how that girl who used to be me had lived. She had been a scatterbrained, messy-haired, and bright-eyed sort of girl, she'd had so much potential. That girl could have great. Her mess comforted me too. Maybe she wasn't as dead as I'd thought.

"Well, I'm just about done with this whole damn popsicle-stand of existence. You?" Isaac asked, sounding more dead than he looked.

"Done," I agreed. "So, so done."

I flopped down on my already messy bed, staring up at the tacky stars on the ceiling while I tried to come to terms with the fact that I'd never see my little brother again. I couldn't feel the prickling of tears forming in my eyes. I guess I'd run all out of tears to cry. Lucky me. I felt like throwing up.

"Should we go down fighting or give up and roll over? What say you?" Isaac collapsed at the foot of my bed.

"What's the point in fighting?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Dunno." He shrugged. "Frequent flyer miles?"

"So... Nothing?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Maybe I would just attack the Winchesters once I tore Felix to sheds. Maybe they wouldn't kill me fast. Maybe they'd make me suffer. Then maybe I could cry like I was supposed to.

I had hardly been debating those thoughts for a minute when I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. Oh, joy. Five minutes of peace was all I'd asked for and apparently I couldn't even get that. Screw my life.

The door flew open with an overly dramatic bang but I didn't flinch. Jack stood in the doorway, eyes alight like molten gold. I turned my head lazily to face him, aware of my void expression but ultimately indifferent to it. I couldn't even bring myself to act like the fake version of myself I had made to fool the Winchesters. I felt oddly numb like nothing mattered. Because honestly, what did? Not even getting my revenge on Felix would change anything. Things wouldn't get better, my life would still suck to an astronomical degree, and this whole stupid world would just keep turning like it always did. Getting revenge was just self-indulgence, really. So what if Jack saw the real me for a couple of hours?

With luck, I'd be dead by morning.

With luck, he'd be the one to kill me.

I deserved it.

"Welcome to the year Nineteen-Thirty, puppy. What do you want?" I addressed him. My tone was clipped, calloused, and cold, but I didn't care.

Jack's eyes were glowing and the air was charged with his power; it made my hair stand on end and my ears hurt like when a plane takes off. Yet, oddly enough, if there and been one in my hand, I would have been swirling chocolate milk in a wine glass for all I'd cared.

Jack didn't answer me. His mouth opened and closed and opened and closed. There was something in his eyes, something akin to desperation. He knew what he wanted to say but the words died in his throat.

"You deaf, honey-bug?" I lifted an eyebrow and took an actual glance at his expression. He didn't look angry. He looked...

Terrified.

And shocked.

And torn.

And betrayed.

I did this. It was me. I had hurt him.

His hands clutched an object tightly between them with enough force to turn his knuckles white. It was a picture frame. I caught a glimpse of the picture within; it had been taken two weeks to the day I'd died. I looked back up to his eyes.

Ah, yes. There it was. The recognition. What a clever, clever boy.

He'd finally put all the pieces together.

'Well, good for him.'

"Uh, oh spaghetti-oh's; looks like the Nephil knows," Isaac droned from the foot of my bed.

"What are you?" Jack asked, his voice trembling. He blinked back tears, biting down on his lower lip to keep it from trembling.

I blinked, feeling sick. I didn't want to lose him, I realized. As much as the bitterness inside me tempted me to bite into him and taste his sweet blood or tell him the truth and watch him squirm just for a distraction from the pain, I couldn't. Because then I'd lose him. I didn't want to lose him. I'd already lost Jazzy today for the second time, I couldn't lose Jack too.

Isaac turned to me, his expression as empty as mine. "Ya gonna tell him?"

"I am Miss. Nidsbit," I answered, flatly. It was supposed to sound friendly like I was teasing, but it only came off as evasive. Jack glared at me. It was already happening; I was already losing him. I guess I deserved that much.

"Don't joke," He said.

"I thought it was hilarious," Isaac chimed.

"In that case, I'm bottled-depression." I flashed my teeth in a way that held no joy whatsoever. "Pint-sized for your convenience," I added, trying for a familiar joke about my height. It sounded empty.

"That was better," My brother snickered, leaning back and closing his eyes. He was probably just going to keep making sarcastic jabs in an attempt to vent his anger, so I ignored him.

"I asked you a question," Jack growled in a way that somehow managed to be threatening despite the whole baby-face puppy-eyed thing he had going on. It was actually kinda hot... Wait, what? When had that happened?

"And I answered you." I sat up. Why did I sound so bitter? Why couldn't I change it? My eyes flicked down to Jack's throat without my permission. His skin looked so soft and I realized I was suddenly famished. My throat burned and desire reared its ugly head inside me. Isaac's voice snapped my attention back to reality.

"Oh dear, Marty. You made the Nephil sniffle."

Jack clenched his teeth and hissed, seemingly bothered by the fact that I wasn't afraid of him. He wouldn't hurt me, right? No, he would. He would hurt me if he knew. If he knew what I wanted to do to him. I wanted him to hold me as he had a few days ago but I wanted to sink my teeth into him at the same time. I deserved to die.

"What are you?" He repeated, taking a step forward. He would hurt me. Good.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied, my voice inflectionless. Wandering towards my dresser I started fiddling with some meaningless piece of junk. Anything for a distraction from his soft throat and thrumming pulse. Jack's glowing eyes followed me.

"Y-you're lying," He said. He was trying to sound strong, but there was something broken in his tone.

"Ya think?" I deadpanned. Jack swallowed thickly; his hand shot out to grab my wrist, eyes fading back to their soft blue.

"This isn't funny, Marty. Stop." His eyes pleaded with me. I eyed his hand.

"Or what?" I challenged. What would he do to me? He looked me in the eyes, frowning and moving closer to me. He needed to step away. I caught my gaze drifting to his neck again but I couldn't stop.

"I really don't want to hurt you," He said.

'Then don't make me tell you.' I thought. His eyes searched my face for any glimpse of his friend, but that girl had never been real, not really anyway. I had made her up.

I wished I could go back in time. Back to the night we met. We could do it all over again and maybe, if I had another chance, he wouldn't figure it out. Maybe it would've been better if I'd never come with Jack in the first place. I wished we could go back to the night we met. Then I could have said no. If I hadn't come with him, I never would have hurt Jack like this. If he had never touched me then I would never have had to feel this pain. If I could just go back.

"And you won't," I said, taking a chance.

Jack huffed, his expression pained.

"This is freakin' five-star entertainment," Isaac mused, resting his chin on his fist, observing Jack and me.

"Please, Marty," Jack begged in a whisper. His sweet-smelling breath was warm as it washed over my face. His eyes flicked down to my lips but only for a split second. No, no. Anything but that. "Just tell me the truth."

'You already know it.'

"I have," I lied. Everything kept coming out wrong! I sounded emotionless like I didn't care but I did! Jack's soft expression melted into one of betrayal.

"So, you're just going to lie?" He asked. "Right to my face?"

I didn't have control over what slipped from my lips next.

"Says the Devil's kid."

"Ooh! One point to the Marty!" Isaac laughed.

Jack stared at me like he was heartbroken. Then his eyes narrowed into a glare, lighting with gold as he released my wrist and moved his hand to seize my throat. He whirled us around and slammed me into a wall with more force than I'm sure than he intended to use. Not that I couldn't take it. Without so much as a flinch, I tilted my head as much as I could with Jack cutting off my air supply.

"Tell me what you are!" He shouted. There was desperation there.

"That's quite the grip ya got there, puppy," I taunted, rasping. He loosened his grip but only slightly, holding the picture of my family up for me to see, the corner was dated January 8th, 2014.

"You said they died five years ago. This picture- it was taken five years ago! You said you were nine then! But y-you - you weren't!" Jack's eyes were wide, almost crazed as he glanced from the girl in the picture and back to me. He knew the truth; he just didn't want to believe it. His voice softened. "You haven't aged a day. Five years and you haven't aged a day."

My voice was soft and it wasn't just from the lack of air. "I aged about a month, actually."

Jack let go of my throat like I was burning him, shaking his head as he backed away like a frightened animal. As well he should. He was the prey here and I did want to kill him. But I wanted him to hold me again even more. "Y-you're one of them..." He whispered.

'Don't leave me. I'm sorry, just don't leave me!' I thought desperately, but that wasn't what came out. I felt trapped in my own skin, the monster inside me taking over, fed by my own bitterness.

"I'd say something along the lines of 'say it out loud' but I'm pretty sure that would have copywrite issues," I said, shrugging and moving back to sit on my bed. Jack watched me carefully.

"Felix - h-he turned you. He made you just like him - a vampire... You're a monster!" He spat the word like it was snake-venom.

And it hurt. It hurt so freaking bad. It was like I had lodged a knife in my own chest years ago and now Jack was twisting it.

'I know I am.' I wanted to say.

"Well that's a harsh way of putting it. But I've been called worse." I brushed it off like I didn't care like it wasn't that deep like I wasn't  bleeding  to tell him how sorry I was. I lowered my head in shame.

"I-I have to tell Sam and Dean," Jack said, shifting onto the balls of his feet, edging towards the door. He was going to make a run for it. Suddenly, I was in control of my body again.

I couldn't let him. I needed more time. I needed to beat Felix first and then they could all find out. I had to fix this. I could still fix this.

I had made Jack forget once.

I could do it again.

I would take us back in time. Before he knew. Make everything right. Take us back to the night we met.

He had to forget.

"I can't let you do that," I spoke softly, my gaze still focused on my feet.

"Are you going to try to kill me?" He asked accusingly.

"No." I shook my head. No, I could never kill him. I was too selfish for that. He deserved someone so much better than me. But I loved him.

"Then what are you going to do?" Jack shifted closer to the exit.

"Isaac," I glanced at my brother out of the corner of my eye. Jack stiffened, his eyes snapping to where mine went. "Get the door."

"On it!" Isaac said, overly eager. Jack bolted but he was too slow. My brother flicked his wrist and the door swung closed with a click. Jack swallowed thickly and glanced back to me, fear filling his features. I knew what he was going to try next.

'This is necessary. One day I'll be sorry.'

"His wings," I said to Isaac, my voice breaking. Isaac grinned widely and reached out, making a pinching motion. Jack froze in a panic, then he clenched his eyes shut groaning as Isaac twisted his hands just a bit.

"Can I rip 'em off?" He asked, basking in the Nephilim's pain.

"Isaac, no!"

"Oh, come on," He twisted his hands even more and Jack cried out, his innocent face twisting in agony. "Just a little?"

"Stop! Just-" I sighed. "Please, don't hurt him, Isaac. Just keep him still, please."

Isaac rolled his eyes. "Oh, fine!" He let go and Jack fell to the ground, panting and shaking. He did his best to get to his feet but Isaac flung him into a wall, pinning him there. "Go ahead and Obliviate the simp."

I stood and stepped towards Jack, slowly and carefully, trying not to scare him any more than I had. I could tell he was trying desperately to move but Isaac was too strong.

"What are you going to do?" Jack demanded, trying to hide the fear in his voice. "Are you going to drink my blood?!"

I froze.

Because I could. Then, I could make him forget.

I glanced at his throat. My fangs ached to come out - to bite.  I could imagine what it might feel like to bury my teeth in that soft, delicious-smelling skin. I could imagine what he might taste like. He'd be sweet like candy. I could be gentle! Maybe if he could somehow understand how badly I needed him then he'd let me. And he heals fast so he'd be okay.

But he wouldn't understand. And I wanted him to hold me again.

I just wanted Jack to hold me again.

"No," I said. I plucked the picture frame from his hands, gazing at the smiles of my family for a moment. I looked up, trying to smile despite the ache of grief and guilt in my chest. "I'm going to need you to forget this."

"I wish I could," Jack said, glaring at the floor. He couldn't even look at me. He couldn't even look.

I nodded. "You will."

"W-what?"

I sighed and moved over to the window. The crisp breeze blew in from the sea as I threw it open, the curtains billowing like vicious barking dogs on a leash. It was a long way down to the black rocks where the land met the ocean. I dropped the picture and watched it tumble until it smashed into the rocks, shattering that perfect picture frame, shattering my picture-perfect family into a million pieces.

"I can make you forget," I told him, over my shoulder. "Take us back to the night we met." The power inside me trilled with excitement; it wanted Jack, it craved him. Or maybe that was just the monster I was, begging to be unleashed. I turned away from the window, closing it as I did.

"What do you mean?" He asked cautiously. He was scared. He was  so  scared.

"I'm going to talk to you, and then you're going to forget, and everything will be back to the way it was." I would fix this. His arms would be around me as soon as I fixed this and everything would be okay. I hung my head and let the power inside me launch forward and wrap itself like chains around my Nephilim. I could feel his light, his grace, fighting back but it had nothing substantial to fight. My power wasn't physical, I just imagined it being so.

"No! W-wait!" Jack watched me with dread, beginning to feel the effects of what I was doing to him. I was locking his memories away, locking him up in his own head. But I had to. Because he wouldn't understand and I needed him.

"I have to do this," I whispered, digging my mental claws in deeper.

"Stop," He gasped, beginning to tremble with effort, "Whatever you're doing, just stop!"

"I can't stop, Jack. I'm sorry, but I just need a little more time," I said, gently. "Four moves and I win."

"Four moves..." He mumbled to himself, his brows furrowing, "Four moves? I-I've heard that before. Where have I heard that before?" Then he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut again.

"Please, just forget. I need you to forget."

'I need you to hold me again.'

"Get out of my head!" Jack's voice rose with panic. He flinched away from me as much as he could but Isaac kept him pinned and helpless.

"I'm gonna make everything okay again. I promise." I fought harder against him, willing my power to work faster. Jack moaned and I glanced up to see his face contorted with pain.

"Please!" He begged me, grimacing, "Please, stop! Marty, please. It hurts." I tried harder, and a choked sob escaped his throat. "Marty, please! It hurts! It hurts! You have to stop! Please!"

"I wish you hadn't found out, Jack, and one day I'll be sorry about this."

"Wait. Wait, no!"

I pushed my power harder than I ever had before.

A horrifying scream of pure agony ripped from Jack's throat. But the walls of this house were built to withstand hurricanes. I was the only one who could hear him. With one last burst of effort, I overpowered the walls of his grace and my power flooded his mind, wiping away any memories of what I was. His scream faltered into groans and those softened into whimpers and Jack's body went limp.

Isaac let go and the Nephilim collapsed but I caught him before his head hit the floor. Carding my fingers through his hair, I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Picking him up, I carried him to my bed and laid him there. He weighed more than I did, obviously, but he didn't feel very heavy to me. I laid down beside him, hugging him around the middle and pressing my face into his chest.

Then I finally cried.

"I hope you can forgive me before I'm sorry. Because I'm a liar and don't think I'll ever really regret this."

***

"You hear something?" Sam asked, perking up. Castiel sat dutifully on a large black bolder, watching the house. The angel flicked his eyes to Sam and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head before focusing back on the house.

"Hm? Uh, no." Dean hardly spared a glance. He was too busy drawing inappropriate words in the sand with his foot. Sam frowned.

"Weird." He shook his head, swallowing thickly as he paced back and forth across the moonlit sand.

"Martina threw a picture frame from her window and it shattered against the rocks approximately sixty-two feet south-east of where you are standing," Castiel informed him, "Perhaps that's what you heard."

Sam shook his head again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No, no. It, uh, it wasn't that. I just- I-I coulda' sworn I heard someone..." He trailed off. 'Scream,' He wanted to say. The sound had been like a phantom pain; intense yet insubstantial.

'Just like the visions...' Sam thought. But no. That wasn't possible. He hadn't had a vision or any manifestation of psychic abilities for going on twelve years! He was probably just imagining things. Sam pushed the thought away as soon as it had come. It was impossible... Right?

Yet still, his eyes wandered to the window on the upstairs floor of the dark house; the only window with a slim shaft of light peaking through the curtains. Because what if...

No .

No. Everything was fine, Jack would have alerted them if there was any danger - or at least - the brothers and their angel would've been able to see if Jack thought there was any danger. Judging by the lack of explosions, Sam could assume that everything was fine.

There was no trap here after all. Although, if he thought about it, that may have been the trap in itself. That monster called Felix had lured Marty back here to relive the most painful day of her life. There had been no vamps waiting to do her any physical harm, but Felix didn't need them to. He just wanted that poor, sweet, little girl to hurt.

And, boy was she hurting.

Sam knew how it felt to lose a brother. He knew how it felt to watch his brother die twice. Hell! Sam had watched Dean die more than one hundred times on the one hundred worst Tuesdays of his life. It had made him feel empty inside - hollow. Like somebody had scraped out everything inside of him, the good and the bad, and had left an utter nothingness in its place. And in the face of all that nothing, fear had gripped Sam's heart like a vice. Fear of that emptiness - of all the unspeakable things it made him willing to do. Sam had been willing - eager even - to do whatever it took if it meant filling that awful hole inside of him.

That was what scared him. It was that ruthlessness. It was that titanium will he'd always shied away from. It was when he'd looked into a mirror and seen John Winchester staring back at him. Deep down, that was what both Sam and Dean had always feared the most. Becoming their father. Becoming the shell of a man that had raised them.

Sam could see the beginnings of a similar shell-forming in Martina. He had seen it when they'd rescued her from that shed the week before. Her shell wasn't made of hate like John's had been - not completely at least. Marty's shell had come from grief and fear. She was just trying to hide; both from Felix and from the shell of a person that she was becoming. Jack had told Sam about Marty's memory gaps - about how she couldn't remember what had happened in the shed after she had left. Sam knew that traumatized people tend to blot things out, it was common. But things like the shed and her return to her childhood home could only serve to send Marty further into her shell.

And the last thing the world needed was another John Winchester.

"These kids were livin' a dream, aye Sammy?"

Sam frowned as Dean's mumbled words knocked him from his train of thought. "H-how do you mean?"

"I mean, look! They had everything!" He said, gesturing from the white sand of the beach to the black rocks to the brine woods. His tone and expression grew sober. "Just like a little fairy-tale. And, I mean, three psychics? Those kids - they had a lotta' potential. So smart and talented and now..." Dean trailed off with a frown.

"Yeah..." Sam quietly agreed. Dean turned to his brother with a pensive expression.

"Got me thinkin', maybe-" He sighed. It was hard for him to say and he didn't want to say it. Even though Dean knew that Marty was capable of more than she seemed and that she could affect his emotions, he didn't really care.

Well, he did  care . Dean hated people screwing with his head or his feelings, period. But somehow Marty was different. He didn't really care to admit it, but Dean had always wanted a daughter. A sweet soul he could love and care for but definitely, with a badass side, he could bestow his knowledge upon. Claire was a close as he had gotten but she had already grown up and she didn't want his help. To Claire, Dean was only a painful reminder of all she'd lost.

And, of course, there was Emma.

But Dean didn't like to think about her.

Thinking about Emma was too painful.

But Marty was still young, and she didn't see Dean the way Clair did. Marty looked at Dean with hope in her eyes and he desperately wanted to keep it that way.

Jack had used to look at him that way. Jack didn't look at him like that anymore.

Because Dean had messed up with Jack. He could admit that now. He'd messed up and he'd messed up bad. Things had gotten better between them; little by little over time. But Jack hadn't even been five days old when Dean had promised to take his life. After that, Jack had only watched Dean with fear. Not hope. Just sheer friggin' terror on his face whenever the elder Winchester walked into the room. And though things had gotten better, they'd always have that promise between them.

That promise from the night when if Dean had only been a better person he could have made things better and not worse like he always did. (Because he was always making things worse. Always too selfish. Always screwing things up. Always getting people hurt. It was always him, always his fault.) Dean could've snatched that knife from Jack's hands and told him it was going to be alright even if it didn't seem like it would be. And Dean could've given the kid the kind of hug he should've been given the day he was born; a father's hug, just like Castiel would have given him if he'd been alive to do it. Because that was Cas's son. That was Cas's kid! Oh, God... Cas... How could Dean have let his best friend down so horribly? Cas, who had given everything up for him and his brother. Cas had saved them time and time again at his own expense. Cas, who would bleed every drop of blood he had with a smile on his face, all in the name of the Winchesters. How could Dean have betrayed him like that? It wasn't enough for Dean to just let the angel die!  (It was Dean's fault, of course. It always was. How couldn't it be? He could have prevented it. If he'd just been a little faster or a little smarter.) No, he had to go and tear that innocent kid to pieces just cause he was sad. (So, selfish. How could he be so selfish? Why was he always so selfish?) Cas had trusted Dean with his son and Dean had repaid him with the promise to take Jack's life. No wonder Jack still could hardly bear to look Dean in the eyes. How could he? Dean wasn't meant to be a father to anyone. He was too frickin' selfish for that.

But this time, things would be different. This time around, Dean would be different - he would be better. For once in his life, he would be selfless and he'd do the right thing even if it possibly meant giving up his only chance to raise a little girl. Because, despite being tainted by darkness and tears, there was still so much good inside Martina Linville. She had so much potential, with the right chances, she could grow up to be great. But she would need those right chances and she wouldn't get them if she stayed with the Winchester's broken little family. All they brought to people was tears and death.

Dean didn't want that for her. She deserved better. Just like Dean himself and his brother had deserved better. She deserved to live a life free from all this pain - a good life, a happy life. Dean wanted that for her. Dean just wanted to help. That was all he'd ever wanted. The last thing Marty needed was more darkness in her life. She didn't need them in her life.

She didn't need him in her life.

So, Dean would be selfless and he would let her go and he would give her the chance to shine like the stars she loved so much. It was probably the most fatherly thing he could do for her. 'Cause Dean just wasn't cut out to be a Dad.

But, oh, did he wish he could be one. Even though he knew that Marty's empathic abilities were probably what was making him feel so strongly about her, Dean couldn't help but go along with it. It wasn't like she was stuffing thoughts in his head; his feelings may have been bolstered but Dean's mind was his own. Dean had always wanted a daughter, Marty hadn't made that up that wish, she'd just reminded him of it. He felt awful about how he had treated Jack and craved a chance at redemption for his mistakes; Dean had made those choices, all Marty had done was exist to give him a chance. Sure, she was rioting his emotions. But what did that matter? Because Dean wanted this and damn it! This felt real!

But he couldn't have it.

Because Dean, and his brother, and their angel, and - yes - even Jack -- it was all some sick, screwed up, god damn beautiful tragedy -- But they were the last thing Martina Linville needed.

So, Dean would be selfless.

"Thinkin' about what?" Sam's question shook Dean from his reverie and back to what he'd been meaning to say.

"Maybe we should put her into the system after all this," He said, thoughtfully, though there was regret in his tone also. Sam blinked twice, shaking his head.

"W-what? The system? You mean the foster system?" He asked, incredulously.

"Yeah? Something wrong with that?" Dean responded. Sam gaped at him.

"Is something wrong with that? Dean, everything is wrong with that!" He exclaimed. Dean opened his mouth to argue but Sam didn't let him. "We made Marty a promise! Just this morning you said she was part of the family. Was all that just talk?"

"No, but-"

"Then what the Hell was it, Dean? Because you can't just go back on something like that! We said we'd take care of her," Sam huffed, crossing his arms and glaring at his older brother.

"And that's exactly what we'd be doing," Dean argued, "Giving her a place that's safe."

"Who would take her in? She's fourteen and she's got more trauma than some war veterans, I don't-"

"Exactly!" Dean cut him off. "The kid's got issues! She needs help, the professional kind."

"Since when do you promote therapy? Sam scoffed.

"When it doesn't involve me," Dean grumbled. Sam shook his head, getting back to the point.

"Throwing her on a bunch of strangers with no clue what she's been through, and who couldn't possibly understand her even if they knew, isn't going to help her! She'd get tossed around or thrown into some group therapy home till she's eighteen and then they'd dump her back on the streets where we found her! How is that taking care of her?"

"It's getting her out of this life, Sam," Dean said firmly. Sam glared.

"You mean getting her out of your life," The younger brother spat lowly.

"What did you just say?" Dean asked dangerously.

"You heard me."

"You have somethin' ya wanna say to my face, Sammy?" Dean growled.

"Dean," Castiel said his name like a warning, his hand gripping Dean's shoulder, holding him back.

"Yeah, I do." Sam's nostrils flared and his mouth was pressed into a thin line. "I'm not gonna stand by and watch you do this again."

"Do what again?" Dean questioned, Cas' hand on his shoulder reminding him to keep calm.

"This thing you do. Anytime a kid comes along, you do this. You act all annoyed, then right as you start liking having 'em around something happens and you realize the responsibility and it freaks you out so you back off and you push 'em away."

"I don't do that," Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah? 'Cause you did it with Kevin, you did it with Claire, you did it with Jack, and now you're doing it again right now with Marty. The second things get real, you get scared and you run away." Sam kept eye contact with Dean, challenging him to look away. Dean clenched his teeth, his pride preventing him from losing the contest of wills.

"Quit fooling yourself, Sam. Look at me!" Dean's voice broke just a little. But he cleared his throat, quick to cover his mistake. "Er, at us, I mean. We can't raise a kid!" He protested.

"We raised Jack," Sam countered.

"Because there were  literally no better alternatives!" Dean seethed. Sam opened his mouth but Dean wasn't done. Hyperaware of Castiel's presence just behind him, guilt ate at his heart. But Dean had never been very good at apologies. "And I even screwed that up! I'm not Dad material, Sam. I'm just not!"

His outburst of emotion made Sam blink, rendering him momentarily speechless. He could have spoken his next words gently but pride made them come out like acid.

"I don't think that's what Ben thought," He hissed. Sam knew it was a low-blow bringing up Ben. That wound was still sore.

"Yeah?" Dean laughed but there was no humor in it. "WELL LOOK HOW THAT TURNED OUT!" He yelled. Sam tensed but didn't back off.

"Something isn't real because it lasts, Dean," Sam said, speaking just a little bit gentler now. "For however short a time, Ben had a dad that loved and cared about him. For however short a time, you made him happy. You say you're not dad material, but that's not what I saw. If that's what you're so worried about, then don't be. 'Cause you made an pretty awesome dad, Dean, even if Ben doesn't remember."

Dean sighed in defeat. "We have nothing to give her, Sam."

"We have trust and understanding, a-and that's more than some random foster home could give her."

Dean shook his head. "It doesn't have to be random."

"What do mean?"

"Jody," He suggested, "I mean, she's already got Claire and Alex. What's one more?"

Sam sighed through his nose, shaking his head. "Yeah, she's got Claire and Alex-" He paused giving his older brother a pointed look. "-  And Patience and Kaia. What's one more? That's only five emotionally unstable teenage girls to take care of, on top of a full time job as a sheriff, and hunting to worry about too."

"I agree with Sam," Castiel spoke up, "We cannot simply dump yet another troubled youth onto the already burdened shoulders of Sheriff Mills." Sam gestured to the angel as if accentuate his point.

"But at least she'd be safe," Dean argued, pursing his lips into a thin line.

"From monsters, sure," Sam agreed, nodding. Dean could sense a ' but ' coming. "But not from herself."

"Jody could help Marty just as much as we could - probably more!" He said. Dean could hear Sam grind his teeth in frustration, but Cas held up a hand to speak.

"I don't think that's true, Dean."

"Why not?" Dean asked the angel.

"'Why not?' Haven't you been listening?" Sam exclaimed. Cas shot the younger Winchester a look and he fell silent.

"I am sure Sheriff Mills is a competent and kind woman; however, Martina does not know or trust her. Sending her to live there would only be marginally better than shipping her off to a stranger," The angel stated, evenly.

"What's that gotta do with what Sam said?" Dean asked. Cas gave him a long-suffering look but continued in perfect patience.

"As weary as I am of Martina's true motives and intentions, I think it is plenty clear the choice she faces after the termination of her family's killer. That is, if she has not made her decision already."

Dean's face scrunched with confusion. "What choice is that?"

"The choice of continuing to live free from the threat of Felix Monroe, or..." The angel trailed off, frowning. His tone made Dean feel like there was a knot in his chest.

"Or what?" He pressed, cautiously. Cas sighed.

"Or to end her life and return to her family," Cas finished, soberly.

Dean was stunned. He hadn't thought- He had never realized.

"Wait, whoa. Are you telling me Marty wants to commit suicide?" His eyes were wide with fear and alarm. She was too young for that. Too young to want to kill herself. No. She couldn't. Dean wouldn't let that happen. "Where's this coming from?" He demanded. Sam glared at him.

"She told her little brother she'd be with him soon. Combine that with the scars on her wrists, and it's really not that hard to figure out," He said, coolly.

Scars? Dean understood now. That was why she was always wearing long sleeves, even in the sweltering heat of Florida. Sam took advantage of his older brother's silence.

"Think about it, Dean," He pushed, "Sending her away from first people she's allowed herself to get attached to in five years? You think that will help?"

The thought made Dean reconsider but Sam had more to say.

"A-and think of Jack! You've seen how much he cares about her. I've seen him smile more in these last two and a half weeks than he did in the five months since we got him back from Apocalypse World. What do you think would happen if he found Marty laying in a pool of her own blood? What do you think that would do to him?"

"It would kill him." Dean sighed, nodding in agreement and Sam cracked a smile.

"I mean, we both know he loves her, Dean. And I-I don't mean like a sister," The younger brother said, fondly. Dean chuckled and the tension in the air cleared.

"Yeah, there's definitely a thing there." He shook his head, grinning. "I mean, it's totally weird but it's a thing." Sam nodded and shrugged.

"Well, I dated a demon. I don't think I can judge."

"You can say that again!" Dean laughed.

The sudden chime of a phone ringing cut through the cool nighttime air like a knife and Dean reached to answer. The smile dropped from his face as soon as he caught a glance at the screen.

"Who is it?" Castiel asked.

"Blocked," Dean answered, apprehension filling his voice, "Three guesses as to who." He mumbled, sliding a finger across the screen to pick up the call and putting it on speaker.

"This is Dean Winchester," He announced as the line connected.

There was no voice on the other side of the call.

"Hello?" He tried again.

Again nothing.

Dean could hear someone breathing but they didn't speak. The breaths sounded ragged and uneven like the person was out of breath. There was background noise as well, a deep rumbling that seemed to increase in volume as time wore on. Without warning, the sound of a deep bellowing horn blared from the phone's speaker. It was the sort of horn that typically accompanies a low rumbling noise. It was the sort of horn that accompanies a really, really big train. The sound of the horn grew louder but soon began to fade as the train passed by whoever had been holding the phone. Something told him this wasn't a simple case of a butt-dial. The situation unnerved for some reason he couldn't name. It was like a scene from a movie.

"Tell me who you are or I'm hanging up," Dean said, his voice demanding.

"I-I would'nt d-do that if I were y-you!"  A desperate, ragged voice called from the phone. Dean had gotten it wrong. The person on the phone wasn't Felix. The person on the phone was a little girl and she wasn't out of breath. She was terrified.

"Why not?" He asked, cautiously.

"B-because little Pamala o-only get's this one c-call." The voice on the other end sounded oddly robotic despite the words being broken into syllables by the girl's sobs.

"What do you mean?" He wondered.

"She-she's lu-ucky you picked u-up. If you hadn't I'd have t-old my friends to e-eat swe-eet Pammy here! Sh-she's seven, just so you know!"  The little girl choked out.

"Felix," Dean growled, "You're using the little girl to talk for you?"

"Pamala is a c-cute little pup-pet. But she's a-annoy-ing. If she d-doesn't stop s-stutter-ing, I'll tell one of my f-friends to t-ake a bite!"  The little girl whimpered and took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice for the sake of her life. " So, what shall I make Panama say next?"

Dean gritted his teeth together. To his right, Sam looked like he was going to be sick. But this wasn't just sick, this was downright  vile . On his left, Cas looked about ready to rip that monster apart with his bare hands.

"Why don't you talk to me with your own voice, Nessie? Ya scared?" Dean taunted.

"No. That would ruin the fun of the game." The girl spoke slowly, trying her best to stay calm.

"What game?" Castiel demanded, sounding a step away from livid.

"You hunters and your angel have thirty minutes to come and rescue poor, little Pamala. When time is up, I'll tell my friends to- to r-rip her in- into itty-bitty pieces!" The girl let out a panicked sob after finishing the monster's words.

"How are we supposed to do that?" Dean demanded, fuming. "She could be anywhere!"

"No, not anywhere, Dean. She's sitting all wrapped up in the attic of the Florida East Coast Railway Station at Fort Pierce. I might be there with her too, gives you a chance to catch me just to make things interesting. But you better hurry, I hear t-traffic can be a biatch."

"You're gonna pay for this, you son of a bitch!" Dean growled.

"Watch the language, Dean Winchester. There are children present. You don't wanna spoil little Pamala's innocence, do you?"

Dean was so enraged, he couldn't even speak. Luckily, Sam was thinking the same as he was.

"We're gonna kill you," Sam promised.

"Perhaps. But not before I show y-you the truth."

The truth? What truth?

"This call will end in...

Five...

Four..."

"Stay strong, sweetheart!" Dean called to the little girl on the other side of the phone. "We're gonna come help you!"

"Three...

Two...

One...

...

...

...

Please save me...

...

...

...

I don't wanna die..."

Then the line clicked and the call was over.

Dean clenched his jaw and put the phone away.

"Let's go gank that sick bastard."

~I am not the only traveler

And then I can tell myself

I had all and then most of you

When the night was full of terrors

Lyrics from: The Night We Met by Lord Huron

I had all and then most of you

[heresathreebee]

Garrote part 3

[Starz Power Diego Jimenez X Jazmine Mann (Black!OC)]

Word Count: 2,700 words

Warning(s): Rated Mature, language, partying, mentions of sex and drugs. Previous Masterlist Next

AN: I am constantly mere clicks away from releasing everything I have at once but I know if I do I will lose momentum for the plot. 

Edit: I. Forgot. The tags again.

@nicke0115 @1zashreena1 @mental-bycatch

The week that followed was heaven and hell. Diego went back to throwing parties nightly, fucking girls coked out of his mind, and in general trying to forgot all about Healy and his pretty bait, but Tommy Eagan was threatening war over a dead partner unless Alicia met his ridiculous demands. Thanks to Tommy's new right hand man, there was an opportunity to gain instead of lose now. All they had to do was wait and see if Dre could pull through. 

There were two new numbers in Diego's phone. One unsaved that sent cryptic messages about their deal, and the other marked as an emoji rather than a name. Jazmine's texts seemed forced– like she was reaching out on behalf of Healy's instructions. So of course Diego elected to simply ignore them both. They were buzzkills anyways. 

Diego was showing something important on his phone to his sister when Jazmine sent another text. 

Remember when you scared off Haagen? I miss that every time I see him. 

On the other end of the line, Jazmine felt pathetic sending the text. Healy hadn't even asked her to write this time, she was just so… bored. She hadn't been sleeping well, pulling double shifts involuntarily since her boss found out she closed the store when her coworker didn't show up. She carried her stress in her shoulders– the tightness in her neck caused her daily migraines and there was a new pinching sensation between her shoulder blades to accompany the rest of her pain. In the shower, she massaged whatever she could reach and thought of Diego's big hands doing it for her. 

She literally shook herself to clear the thought and pelted the shower curtain with water in the process. Diego Jimenez wasn't some faux bad boy with a secret soft side– he was the leader of a cartel. If he hadn't killed people himself, he definitely had people killed for him. He was beyond dangerous to even fantasize about. 

DING-DING. 

Her phone called out to her from the bathroom counter and she realized it was past time to get out. Her fingers were pruned to the point of over-sensitivity and there was a rapidly closing window to apply the leave-in conditioner to the best of its use. Still, she wiped her hands on the towel to read the text. 

Come out and party. Wear something nice. 

Alicia boxed his ear over the last sentence but he brushed her off. Jazmine declined anyways claiming exhaustion and went to bed. There were people to socialize with already– what was the absence of one little minimum wage laborer going to do?  Apparently she was important enough to occupy a corner of Diego's head. He was still bent about the way she had reacted to his identity. Who the hell did she think she was? As they discovered in the ungodly hour after the party ended, she was also important enough to drag Healy out of whatever hole he hid in. 

"Diego, we need to talk." 

Alicia had gone home– Diego expected she would likely never attend another one of her brother's parties as it wasn't her brand of debauchery– and she'd cleared the place out in her disgust, so his penthouse was empty for once. 

"What's the matter," Diego poured himself yet another drink, "am I not being a good boyfriend?" 

"We don't care what you do when you're not operating," Healy reprimanded. "But we need you to cooperate. Be a presence in Jazmine's fake life. You've been established as a rival for her affections, and you need to become an obstacle standing between the bait and the target. Jazmine walks home from work every single morning by herself. I don't know if you noticed it's been pouring buckets for three days straight." 

Healy almost sounded like he was shaming Diego. It wasn't his fault she was poor. She wasn't his real girlfriend and therefore not his real problem. "Please don't make me regret making this deal, Diego. We will never get an opportunity to dismantle Haagen like this again. Need I remind you that you've got a missing child on your hands?" 

Diego glared fiercely over the rim of his cup. Healy smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt and returned to his neutral position as righteous commander. 

"Schedule more time to spend with Jazmine, especially in public spaces. We have it on good authority that Haagen is going to put a detail out to give him updates on Jazmine in the near future, and he needs to see you in these updates." Healy turned on his heel and reached the elevators, stopping them from closing dramatically and fixing Diego with a stare. "And no more ignoring us." 

Jazmine woke up the next morning to one new notification. 

I'm coming over. 

"Oh shit." The woman threw herself out of bed and looked around. This wasn't fair. Cleaning day was a bi monthly ritual where she took a day off to deep clean the entire apartment, blasting music and stepping around her dog to get things done. Hercules wandered into her bedroom looking chipper as ever. "I guess we better get started then, huh?" 

The fucker showed up on her doorstep not ten minutes after she got out of bed– she wasn't even dressed for the day. Her hands nervously tried to cover the broth stain on her jeans as she cleared a space for him to sit and wait while she finished her morning routine. She worried while brushing her teeth that Diego might be a psycho like her last boyfriend. Psycho enough to kick her overly friendly pet, but no sound of yelps filtered through the paper thin walls and when she finally emerged, the pit-bull was settled with her head on his lap. 

Diego turned his head at the sound of a huge sigh. Jazmine was gazing at him but quickly turned when she realized she'd been caught. She began to flit about the room, picking up lost things and piling them up until she could figure out what items went where. He watched, making absolutely no move to help other than keeping the dog out of the way. Hercules– as the tag on her collar read– laid as much in his lap as he would allow. 

"Buena perro," he muttered, and if she still had a tail, she would have wagged it. Growing bored, Diego rose and stalked over to the fridge. "Do you have anything to eat?" 

The white void in the fridge answered for her, but she still called out, "no, it's empty." 

"I'm ordering pizza." 

"What about Chinese?" 

Diego looked at the lonely, days-old Chinese boxes in the fridge and shivered. "I'm getting pizza." She didn't complain. He returned to the couch to do just that. Distractedly, he admired the curve of her spine as she bent over. She wore jeans again and another band shirt, this time it was a baggy Chicago thing. He licked his lips thinking about taking them off her. 

Healy’s meddling had repercussions– mainly that it would made taking girls home harder, or at least less frequent. Diego still felt great suspicion towards this Jazmine, but it didn’t stop his body from wanting her under him. Or over him, on him, riding him… he tried to blink the images out of his head. 

“What kind of dirt does Healy have on you?,” he found himself asking. “My sister and I have been dying to know.” 

Jazmine shrugged, keeping her back to him. “No dirt.” 

“So you’re just helping out of the goodness of your heart?” Pizza arrived in time for her not to answer, and they returned to their positions for further interrogation. “Anything to get that creep Haagen away from you for good? Or are you an agent as well?” 

“No,” she said. She slipped rubber gloves on to begin maintenance on the tower of dishes piled on the side of the sink. She seemed to live alone– there was no reason to have so many dishes. Maybe he had been wrong in his assessment from earlier? Or maybe she was just a hoarder. “To tell you the truth, I’m about as fond of Healy as I am Haagen. I take that back– Healy’s a step up but not by much.” 

“Because you don’t trust him?” 

“I don’t know…” That mountain of plates and glasses seemed to disappear quicker than he expected and she began to scrub out the sink and the cleared counters, grunting with effort as she did so. “I trust I know the kind of man Haagen is, more so than I do with Healy. Partnerships like the one I have with Healy– they’re subject to change, and not always for the better. He’ll always do what’s in his best interest. What’s good for him is good for me.” 

For Now. The implication that she may harbor the same feelings towards Diego was not lost on him. In fact, he stood up from the couch and approached the windows with their blinds down to peek out at the street. There was nothing quite so conspicuous as a black SUV with a mean mugging thug staring back at him. Even his own protection didn’t roll that sloppily. 

Jazmine objected to the windows being opened but Diego insisted. “Need our relationship on display, right? Haagen’s got to know I’m here.” 

She relented quickly and threw her gloves aside, plopping her butt on the couch to rest a moment. The leftovers in the box were room temperature but she hardly seemed to mind. God, he wanted to run his hand up her shirt just to see if she was wearing a bra. They twitched in his lap and he realized there was no way she missed the hunger in his gaze as he did. 

“Did you bring those beers,” she laughed as she noticed the case on the coffee table for the first time. “Can I have one?” 

The beer seemed to quell the tiny tremor in her fingers. She kicked her feet up on the coffee table permitting Diego to do the same. "What the hell are we even doing? Hanging out? What exactly is this accomplishing?" 

Jazmine gave it some thought as she took a pull from her drink. "Putting on a show. We need Haagen to think I'm in love with you, like you're no good but I'm not ready to let you go for something 'better.'" 

"And Haagen is something," Diego put his fingers up like claws, "better." 

"He certainly needs to think he is." She noticed Hercules whining and let her out the door unaccompanied. "We've got his 'gentleman' ego to work with." 

Diego followed her to the window and grasped her hips from behind. She half turned, gazing up at him with a question in her eyes. He leaned into her space to whisper into her ear. 

"Those eyes Healy thinks Haagen sent to watch you? Well they're watching right now, and they're not being subtle about it." 

She doesn't try to look like he expected her to. Instead, she stepped away from him and pointedly crossed her arms. "You don't look very comfortable if you're still wearing that." 

She nodded her head at his coat. 

"So take it off me." 

That startled her. Jazmine's eyebrows lifted, and her feet shuffled when he gave her nothing but a smirk in return. Finally, she did as he suggested. She did not miss the way his hands seemed to brush lightly over her rib cage. These small, fleeting touches that left her breath audible and her stomach warm. He didn't even give her a chance to put the coat on the hangar when he dragged her back against him. 

"What are you doing?" She didn't mean to sound breathless, turning her head to the side and exposing more of her neck at the behest of his pushy nose and allowing him to trail kisses on her skin. 

"Putting on a show," he said against the shell of her ear. 

He felt her stiffen a little against him. The tent on his pants was preventing a lot of important blood from entering his brain, but he was conscience enough to feel how conflicted she was. Diego slipped his hand up her shirt like he wanted, cupping her bare breast and sucking a mark into her neck. She allowed it, but it felt more like compliance than enjoyment. All at once and against the protest of his body, he let her go. He watched her shoulders relax and her hands find a home beneath her armpits. 

Jazmine nodded in answer to a question left unasked. She did grab his hand and pull him away from the window, backwards into the tiny hall separating the front room from the bedroom and bathroom. She dropped his hand as soon as they were out of sight of the window. 

"I appreciate the enthusiasm," she said. "Just hang out for twenty more minutes and you can leave. I'll text you tomorrow and we can makes plans for another 'show.' You can stay in my room while I clean the bathroom." 

Diego sat heavily on her bed. Just as he was about to get comfortable, someone knocked at the front door. Jazmine brushed invisible dirt from her knees as she got up to see who it was. He followed from a distance. The peep hole was almost out of her reach, but she stood on her toes to see outside. Suddenly, the woman looked back at him with wide eyes. It's Haagen, she mouthed. As soon as her head was turned to the task of confronting him, she missed the part where Diego began to undress. 

"Hey!" She flung the door open and yelped when Hercules barreled through her legs to get inside. "You... found my dog!" 

"Indeed," Haagen said, folding his hands over his heart. "I saw this poor creature wandering and I returned him using the address on its collar. I am astounded to learn that he belongs to you." Nice cover story. The man continued, "since you have the day off, I was wondering–" 

Haagen's wondering was cut off by the appearance of a half naked boyfriend. Diego wound his arm around Jazmine and leaned down so he could engulf her clothed nipple with his hot mouth. She gasped, pushing his head away on instinct and he pressed her into his side like a vice. 

"Come back to bed, baby," he purred, then pretended to take notice of Haagen watching in the doorway. "Oh, you're that guy, right? James, Jeff, Jebediah or whatever." 

"Jeremy," the man hissed through his teeth. "Hello Di-e-go." 

"Right right right." An embarrassed Jazmine buried her face into Diego's nude shoulder, acting unconsciously but playing into her role perfectly. "Kinda crazy how I start hearing about you and then all of a sudden you're showing up on my girl's doorstep, isn't it?" 

Haagen made a move to defend himself but Jazmine was quicker. "He found the dog, honey! Jeremy was just bringing her home, he didn't know I lived here." 

"Right," Haagen cleared this throat. 

Diego's smile bordered on a threatening mania-- there were far too many teeth displayed to suggest any sort of friendliness. "Life is so full of strange coincidences…" 

No one missed the way he squeezed Jazmine harder. It sent a message to be sure. Vague enough for Haagen to infer whatever he deemed necessary to the story in his head. It was quite brilliant actually. 

"Well I ought to," Haagen swallowed, "leave you to it then. I'll see you around the shop, then?" 

"Bye–" she barely managed to say before Diego dragged her into the apartment and slammed the door shut. He kept dragging her all the way back to her bedroom, and all the while she protested being treated like a misbehaving child. It wasn't until he'd slammed the door and collected his shirt from the floor that she realized what exactly had transpired. 

"Oh." She brushed the frizzing curls invading her eyes, "oh that was perfect. Healy was right to pick you." 

Diego rolled his shoulders once his shirt was tucked back into place. "Come over tonight. I'll text you my address and we can capitalize on this. Wear something nice." 

She was about to protest his leaving but realized it wouldn't matter. If Haagen expected a fight from the noises he'd heard, he would probably just assume it had ended quickly if he saw Diego storm out alone. He crafted his own version of events. She let the pieces fall where they lie and made arrangements to meet Diego tonight.