#but i because he's one of the better guys and believes in following orders goddammit

[writer-of-various]

Hill 493

Ft. Nancy Turner [OC]

/I am planning on recreating the campaign story by putting in my WW2 OC and Joseph Turner's sister, Nancy Turner. I decided on recreating this mission first because I have had some questions on how Nancy would react to her baby brother's death. Might add more, this is simply a rough draft./

Nancy stood by Daniels and Stiles, watching the college kid try to get a reply through the radio. It's been a while since they camped out at an abandoned mill they took over, and Pierson and the others were a no show. The thought of them injured or dead made her stomach churn and when she looks up to meet her baby brother's eyes, she knew they were feeling the same thing.

"Dog one outrider this is dog one six, do you read me over?" Stiles speaks through the radio phone, but all that replies to him is static. He sighs before trying again. "Any and all receiving units, this is dagwood white dog six requesting a comms check. Can you read me over?"

Nancy watches as Joseph goes over to the end of the dirt area, his face one of worry before he pivots to them. He walks over as Stiles grunts in frustration and Daniels looks over to him.

"If you don't mind me sayin' sir, maybe we should head to the assembly point." He says softly, and Nancy frowns when Joseph shakes his head and turns away, walking the other direction.

"Not yet. Pierson'll get here." He says, sounding like he believed the sergeant would come any minute but Nancy knew better. She was there with that stubborn bastard at Kasserine. She knows him too well. Something is wrong.

"Joe," she calls out sternly but he ignores her. Daniels goes after him, calling out "Sir." He goes quiet as he talks to Joseph about something, her eyes watching how her brother seems to pause and look unsure what to say to the young man. She turns her gaze back to Stiles, giving him a small smile as he continues to radio someone in. Thankfully someone answers, Baker, and the news he reports has her blood boiling.

"Pierson is moving to Hill 493, he's gonna take it with some of your boys and 2nd platoon. Get here fast, over." Baker sounds tired and scared, and Nancy cursed under her breath. So much for keeping Pierson on a tight leash.

"We'll be there soon, Baker. Over and out." Stiles stands and rushes over to Joseph and Daniels, Nancy following close behind.

"Lieutenant!" He shouts, getting both their attention. "Just got a transmission from Baker. They're gonna assault Hill 493. Pierson's with 'em."

"What?!" Joseph growls, and Nancy knows shit is about to go down. She wonders if she should warn everyone, Allies and Germans, to stop fighting and get the hell away from Joseph and Pierson– those two are gonna go down brawling each other, and likely bring everyone down with them as collateral damage.

Stiles continues, "He took our guys and second platoon."

Joseph looks over at the other soldiers and nods, Nancy whistling to get them on guard.

"Gear up! Let's move!" He calls out and Nancy repeats after him, making sure all their men grab their packs and weapons and start following Jospeh.

"He's dead." Joseph mumbles under his breath to her and she nods, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

"I hope Zussman and Aiello are alright."

×××××

"Come on, boys!" She exclaims, hiking up the hill with Joseph beside her.

"Keep up! Let's go, let's go!" He orders, looking back to make sure his men were alright before looking forward and continuing to push through.

"Maybe Pierson's still at base of the hill." Daniels says, trying to be hopeful, but Stiles scoffs and shakes his head.

"I'm guessing we're way past that!" He replies tiredly, and Nancy knows how true he was at that statement.

Joseph grunts as he makes it to the top, nodding at Nancy who gives him a stern look. "Keep moving, goddammit!" Their boys soon fall in behind them on the top of the hill, some flinching at the loud echoing of gunfire in the distance.

"Sounds like our guys!" Stiles exclaims, and Nancy moves forward, weapon aiming down sights as she walks past a few low tree branches and sees Aiello, her heart jumping in her chest. He sitting leaned against a fallen tree log, his leg clearly wounded with how he's holding onto his right knee. He looks up at the sight of them, a look of relief washing over his face.

"Daniels!" He shouts, his sight on the one of the youngest soldiers in their platoon. They all rush over, Joseph reaching Aiello first.

"You all right?" Daniels asks, watching as Joseph kneels beside Aiello and touches his wounded knee, a look of guilt crossing over his face as he gives Aiello a head to toe exam. Nancy watches with a frown, looking over to the battle happening a small way from them before returning her attention to them.

"Yeah, I'm alright."

"Where's the rest?" Joseph asks, and Aiello looks at him.

"Pierson took 'em to attack the guns. We begged for reinforcements."

Joseph growls angrily, "Stubborn son of a bitch!"

"Lieutenant, we gotta leave now." Nancy cuts in, and her brother nods, standing reluctantly, afraid of leaving Aiello alone.

"We'll come back for you" Daniels assures the slightly older man, and it makes Aiello smile and nod at them, waving them off.

"Hurry, they need us!" Joseoh calls over to Daniels before running off after Nancy. They barely move a few feet before being bombarded by artillery, the platoon ducking for cover while shooting at the Germans trying to surround them. They push through easily though, Nancy practically a bulldozer as she shoots, reloads with impressive speed, and beats any German that gets too close to her. They race further up the hill, Daniels working hard on gunning down the Krauts and its not long before they are reunited with the rest of the platoon.

"Daniels, you made it!" Zussman calls out happily, smiling at his best friend and Daniels returns it. Joseph and Nancy storm over to Pierson, ducking under his cover and glaring at him.

"Pierson, what the hell were you thinking?!" Joseph shouts.

"I'm stayin' on mission! We need to get our engineer to clear that pillbox!" He points over to where a load of Germans were waiting for them and Nancy reloads her weapon, making sure to grab some extra ammo.

"This isn't over." Joseph means to whisper it, but it's loud enough for his boys to hear and they all wondered what was going to happen to Pierson. They don't dwell on it long, Pierson orders Daniels to escort Parker to plant a charge on a bunker and they were all covering the two soldiers backs until Parker was killed and Daniels took up the job without hesitation. He plants the charge and backs up, calling out to them and once the charge detonates, they storm up to the bunker. Daniles climbs over the rubble first, with Nancy beside him, but they stopped when Joseph grabbed Pierson and glared up at him.

"How many casualties?!" He barked out the order, and Pierson falters for barely a second before regaining his composure. Nancy didn't miss this and felt her heart tear slightly.

"We executed the mission." Pierson says calmly, but it only fuelled Joseph's anger.

"HOW MANY?!" He screams, surprisingly everyone but Nancy and Pierson. The older man pointed down to the hill, glaring back down at the lieutenant.

"Our instructions were to take this hill!"

"You should've waited for us!"

"There wasn't time!"

"What about our men?"

Pierson shouts, "We had orders!" But that wasn't the right thing to say. Joseph punches him hard, his head snapping to the side and blood immediately tricking out, and Nancy moves to interfere but Daniels gently grasps her arm and shakes his head.

"To hell with our goddamn orders!" Joseph growls, watching as Pierson rubs his face and obviously shove down his anger, which surprises Nancy. Usually he would have no problem going full fucking beast on anyone who makes his anger rise to such a level, but Joseph has some affect on everyone: You just can't stay mad at him.

"You think I wanted any of this? Huh? We're cogs in the machine, Joseph. We start going our own way, the whole thing breaks down. When did you forget that?" Pierson is grabbed by the shoulder and forced to look at the platoon by Joseph, his eyes landing on Stiles, who's pale and shaking, then to Zussman, who meets his eyes and gives him a pleading stare, then Daniels, who's eyes are wide and mouth agape at the fact that his Lieutenant punched his Sergeant. Then lastly Nancy, who's eyebrows are furrowed together and eyes dark with warning; a warning for him to not step over anymore lines.

Turner points at them, "These are our men! Our men! When did you forget?"

Artillery rounds go off again, interuppting the heated argument, and Joseph looks over to the direction it came from. Pierson takes the chance, "Those 150s are still firing on our position."

Turner flexes his jaw, clearly not happy, and looks at the platoon. "Keep moving. We're taking them out." He orders lightly before going inside the ruined bunker first. Pierson gives Nancy a look that has her shaking her head, following after her baby brother.

"Daniels, get that door open" Joseph commands and the younger soldier nods, walking up to the metal door and opening it, guiding them into the trenches. "Enemies in the trenches!" Joseph warns, and the platoon gets to work downing the enemies. Nancy and Daniels race over to the first artillery gun, Joseph giving Daniels the command to plant a thermite.

"Back up" Nancy exclaims, gently bringing Daniels backwards while the younger soldier calls out, "FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

"Bunker dead ahead!"

"There's more guns up ahead. Keep moving!"

"We got this, boys!"

The words of motivation helped them zero in one the second bunker, clearing it of any German soldiers. Daniels opens the door leading to the last of the 150s, Joseph walking past him into the trenches.

"This is it! Last 150s!" Joseph calls out and Pierson points towards the field above the trenches.

"Krauts are everywhere! We need to sweep this area before hitting the 150s! Mop 'em up!" He warns and Joseph curses under his breath before turning to his platoon.

"Clear the area!" He orders.

Pierson adds in, "Don't let up!"

The platoon gives the two a chorus of "Yes sirs" before charging at the enemy, Nancy and Zussman jumping out of the trench to kill those above while Stiles and Daniels swept the trench, killing all the soldiers in a short matter of time.

"Enemies down. Hit the last guns!"

Daniels runs over to one of the artillery guns and plants a thermite charge in it. "Charge is planted!" He backs up and the artillery gun explodes, but peace doesn't end for long as more Germans forces appear from the woods, including a tank.

"Find cover!" Pierson shouts and the platoon moves back into the trenches. Joseph yells more commands while they defend their position, killing as many enemies as they can. Daniels grabs a thermite from his pack and runs up to the tank, planting the thermite and quickly jumping back as it explodes.

"Tank is still moving!" Stiles warns, and Daniels curses. He grabs another thermite, stepping back into the trenches as the platoon covers him before rushing back into the tank and throwing the last thermite inside it. He's about to jump off when it explodes early, knocking him down onto the ground, the breath leaving his lungs as he watches with wide eyes as the tank begins to slide down towards him. He couldn't get up, fear eating at him as he crawls backwards, and he prepares for antagonizing death when an explosion stops the tank from going any further. Daniels, and the platoon, look to their rights to see a familiar tank approaching.

"It's Perez!" Stiles shouts in relief. Of course it didn't last long. The mostly ruined German tank fires upon Perez, destroying his tank completely. He and his crew began to leave the tank, but most are burned to death while others began to be under fire from approaching enemies.

"He's hit!" Zussman cries out, moving to help them but Nancy shakes her head and pulls him back, trying to reassure herself silently that Perez is okay, he's going to be okay, he's a survivor.

Daniels, still on the ground drowning with shock and fear, looks back to the German tank and sees the crew of the tank crawl out from underneath the tank, but before any danger can be appointed at him, Joseph runs over and kills them. He then turns to Daniels and looks relieved he's okay, offering his hand to help him stand.

"It's okay. I got you, son." He says softly, and Daniels feels his eyes well up with his emotions, and as he reaches his hand up to the offering hand, a shot rings out. Joseph is shot in the back.

"Lieutenant!" Daniels cries out as Joseph falls on top of him, his body going limp as the older man whimpers at the excruciating pain, blood leaving him like a stream. Shit, shit, shit.

There's a surviving German (the tank commander, his mind supplies), a pistol in his hand as he jumps off the tank, wobbly on his legs as he sways while reloading his pistol. He's murmuring something in German, and Daniels wishes Zussman was there to translate, but he isn't going to let this man live, not when he hurt Joseph. Daniels grabs Joseph's revolver in its holster and fires at the tank commander, hitting him in the leg. He drops to the ground, and Daniels doesn't hesitate to shot the German in the head. A bunch of footsteps come up from behind him, and he knows it's his platoon at the noises of shock.

"Turner!" Pierson yells, cursing when there's more and more soldiers coming from the forest and he takes cover behind the tank. Daniels gently shoves Joseph off of him, inspecting the gun wound. "Enemy reinforcements, fall backs!"

Daniels turns Turner over and checks his front, seeing the bullet went straight through. Fuck.

"I'm not, not gonna make it. Leave me." Turner begs softly, breathing heavily in pain.

Daniels shakes his head, "I got you!"

Daniels grabs Turner from behind and begins dragging him to cover while he holds off the Germans with Turner's revolver. More German forces arrive and exchange fire with the platoon.

Turner cries out, "GO!" But the platoon ignores him, begging to whatever is out there that they can get him out alive. Stiles looks over at the other side of the trench to see Nancy and Zussman holding off as many Germans as they can, some coming close to them but Nancy growls and takes out her knife to stab them ruthlessly.

Daniels drags Joseph to cover, the lieutenant screaming in pain. "Aaaaah!"

"Stay with me!" Daniels orders, dragging him behind some sandbags and rechecking his wound. He notices how the older man seemed fo shut his eyes and yelled out, "Turner!"

Zussman and Nancy continue to fire at the Germans, witnessing the deaths of many of their friends, before the young man looks over to where he last saw Daniels and stopped firing at the sight of an injured Joseph.

"Nancy, Joseph!" He yells, and the woman stops firing to look where he's looking at and her blood runs cold. They sprint over to the rest of the squad.

"Lieutenant!"

"JOSEPH!" Nancy's scream echoes the forest as she falls to her baby brother's side, not knowing where to place her hands at first but opts to hugging his side. He hugs her back weakly, knowing his next few words are going to break her and Pierson. He looks at her then Pierson, trying to muster up the energy to speak.

"You gotta get our boys outta here." He tries to say it as an order, but it comes out weak. Pierson shakes his head.

"No, we can still make it."

Nancy nods, "We aren't leaving you, Joe, just–"

Joseph shakes his head, "You have to - you have to retreat." He grabs his submachine gun and hands it to Pierson, who readies it.

"No. We ain't leaving you here." Pierson says, watching as Nancy shakes her head and holds onto her brother tighter but he pulls out of her grasp.

"Nancy, please."

"NO!" At this he turns back to Pierson.

"You get me up, I'll hold 'em off."

Pierson hesitates, looking at the platoon and their destroyed expressions and Nancy, who's crying and trying to beg her baby brother, and Joseph, who's willing to risk everything so they can escape unscathed. A true hero, a true leader, a true man.

"You have to go. Go!" Turner's order is loud and commanding and Pierson knew the longer they stayed, they would be all be killed. He hands back Joseph's submachine gun to him and looks at him sadly.

"It was an honor." He says quietly, but Joseoh gives a weak smile and nods, indicating he heard and felt the same. He turns to Nancy and kisses her cheek, hugging her one last time.

"I love you, Joseph."

"I love you, Nancy." He turns to Pierson and nods.

"No sacrifice too great. Go."

Pierson pauses for a second, his body trembling as he feels like throwing up but he looks at his platoon. "Fall back!"

Daniels shakes his head, "Sergeant!" He begs.

Zussman bites back his emotions, knowing he had to help Pierson get the rest out alive. For Joseph. "Move! Move!"

"Fall back! I said fall," Pierson growls as he and Zussman grab Daniels and drag him away, even though he struggled to break free.

"You can't do this!" He screams at Pierson.

Pierson shouts back, "That was an order, goddamnit!"

"No! No!"

The retreating platoon watches as the Turner siblings shared one more moment, Nancy helping her brother stand and firing at the Germans.

"Joseph..."

"I got this, sis. I got this. Protect them, m-make sure Pierson doesn't d-do anything...keep our boys in line."

"I will, I promise you." She kisses his forehead, shoots at the Germans a few more times, then runs after the platoon, trying to not let her heart make a decision for her. She made a promise.

The platoon watches as Joseph fires at the enemy, killing one soldier but a shot is returned, forcing him to drop his gun.

"No!"

Joseph looks back at his platoon one more time, his eyes reassuring them, telling them its okay, before he's shot dead by a German soldier. Joseph's body lies lifeless in the mud and rain as German troops pass by him, some stepping on him carelessly as they chase after the retreating platoon.

A platoon of broken hearts.

[megantronusprime]

Something that I love to think about is Pitcairn’s POV for the scene at the Restless Ghost tavern when the main members of the Colonial Rite meet up after years of being apart. When they reveal to Haytham the truth about Kaniehtí:io’s death, the fate of her village, the unapproved expedition, and, of course, Connor. 

Because, as we all know, the only other person who didn’t join the expedition was Pitcairn. Which begs the question - did he know about the expedition? Was he invited but couldn’t attend, or was he deployed elsewhere so they didn’t bother to include him on any of the planning?

If he wasn’t invited, when did he learn about the expedition? Maybe he learned about it the night of the Boston Tea Party, immediately. Maybe Charles and William filled him in afterward. Or maybe he saw Charles and William tense up when watching the assassin, sensed there was something more to the story, and asked. Maybe they didn’t even tell him then. Somebody please write a fic about this.

Anyway, while it’s unlikely, I like to imagine he was completely in the dark about it as much as Haytham was. Because reading that scene, when Charles starts the whole confessional with, “There was a boy at...” and Haytham describes the scene by saying “an uncomfortable silence seemed to descend on the table. The men either reached for their tankards or hunched their shoulders or found something to study in the fire nearby,” I like to imagine John is sitting there like:

[smol-and-grumpy]

Golden Cage - Chapter.01

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She’s a spoiled little princess — at least that’s what people say. Her father is the King of all Kings, the man who everyone fears. Then, along comes Dean Winchester, the one guy who manages to see into her soul, but — — is Dean really who he says he is?

Chapter Warnings: Threats, angst, fluff too

WC: 6372

A/N: If you want to read ahead, please check out my Patreon. 

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Y/N takes her time to get ready. The party has already started and she hears cars pulling up to the curb outside, hears the doorbell ringing, and doors open to new guests. They’re families of the people who work for her father. Which also means that they are her family, too.

They’re a whole fucking family when she thinks of it. Once they are accepted into the organization, they are treated like they belong.

A whole fucking weird bunch of the Brady’s, she thinks.

Rummaging through her closet, she fishes out some black skinny jeans. She holds them out, sees the ridiculously large amount of holes in it. She can’t believe that she used to wear them in her late teens. Well, she’s going to figure out if they still fit.

She smiles when she sees that they do. Y/N pulls a big hooded jumper in pastel pink over her bra next, and puts her hair up into a ponytail, before slipping into her sneakers. 

In the bathroom, she applies minimal makeup but paints her lips cherry red. 

That’ll do, she thinks. Her dad will be furious, but eh, she doesn’t care.

*

The part of the house she’s in is awfully quiet when she makes her way down from her bedroom. The party is in the back of the house and in their gigantic yard. 

As she walks along the hall, the sound of laughter and chatting gets louder and she takes a deep breath, calming herself down. It’s not her first time attending a family party like this one, but she doesn’t really like people, so. 

Y/N walks out, nodding at familiar faces, but ignores their look of irritation at her outfit, even smirking to herself because she’s accomplished her mission.

When she arrives outside a waiter walks by and she quickly stops him, leaves her hand on his chest and grabs at a full champagne flute. She downs the liquid in one go before she takes another one and downs that too. 

“Great, thanks.” She says and begins to make her way to the front, where she knows her dad is, but before she could reach them, she gets pulled back by her arm. 

She turns to the source and lets out a squeal when she sees her friend Bela. She knew that Bela would be here. It’s Bela’s dad’s goodbye party and god, is she glad that there’s at least one familiar face around here who she can whine to about how hideous these parties always are.

“Good job, babe,” Bela says and elbows her in the ribs. 

“God, Bela, I’m so sick of it.” She sighs.

The other woman chuckles, “Yeah, I can see by the way you’re dressed. You just love to piss him off, don’t you?” Bela knows how rebellious she can be.

She groans, “Don’t even get me started on telling you what happened this afternoon!”

Her friend opens her mouth, but before Bela could ask more, they are interrupted.

“Hey, ladies,”

“Oh no,” Both of the women roll their eyes as Nick approaches. 

Bela whispers to her, “Go on, I’ll hold him back.” Y/N nods at Bela with a knowing look, before she turns on her heels to walk to find her dad. 

As she’s walking away, she hears Bela sneer at Nick and hears Nick muttering something that sounded like bitch under his breath. She doesn’t know if it’s directed at her or Bela, but honestly, she doesn’t really care. 

Walking closer, she sees her dad standing with Bobby and a couple of the capos, as well as Zachariah, the underboss. Dean’s there too. Her heart picks up pace as she notices him. 

“Hey, Uncle Bobby,” She greets the big bear of a man and Bobby’s eyes widen when he sees her outfit.

She looks around and sees her dad rubbing his hand at his temple while Dean presses his lips into a thin line and lowers his face to hide his smirk. 

Bobby wraps her up into a hug, and she lets him. She always liked Bobby’s hugs. 

When Bobby releases her, she turns to her father, “I hope I look nice enough for you, Dad?” 

Her father’s gaze is firm. He doesn’t even bat an eye as he purses his lips into a thin line, but unlike Dean, he’s not smirking behind it.

“K,” She says and looks into the round, “I’ll go and mingle with the others, then.” 

“No,” Her dad says, “Might as well go on with the announcement now that you’re here.” He clinked at the glass he’s holding with the ring on his ring finger. It’s loud enough for the closest people to hear and everyone is whispering hushes as they look at him.

Great, now all eyes are on her too. Not that she can go undetected by the way she’s dressed, but she just absolutely hates attention.

He clears his throat before he begins to speak, “Beloved family. As you all know, our family is gathered together here to say goodbye to one goddamn fine man,” He places his hand on Bobby’s shoulder and Bobby looks down, seemingly embarrassed — or touched, she can’t really read his face. 

Her father goes on, “Bobby here has been the family’s consigliere for thirty years!”

There’s cheering and she too, claps her hands. 

“However, Bobby thinks it’s time to take a step back and we had talked about a successor at lengths, right Bobby?”

“Yes,” Bobby agrees with a nod.

Her father nods back, “It’s top-secret because Bobby and I are the only ones who know it.”

Y/N sees Dean eyeing her, but ignores it because Nick just pushed himself to the front and oh god, she hopes it’s not him. 

“Bobby?” Her dad turns to his friend, squeezes at his shoulder, “Do you want to announce it yourself?”

Bobby nods and clears his throat, “Yeah, uh, as you all know, I’m getting way too old for this shit!”

Everyone’s laughing except for her.

“This family is very important to me and as you know, I would never leave if I didn’t have someone in the pipeline that would live up to the family’s expectations. Someone that could adequately fill my shoes.”

Nick’s face is beaming. A smile of a winner, she guesses and she almost has to gag out loud, but is able to hold herself back.

“So, I’ve been searching around and I finally found someone whom I think will bring greatness into the family. I’ve trained him and transferred my knowledge over to him. Ladies and gentlemen,”

Nick is wiggling on his toes, as he straightens his suit jacket while she gnaws on her bottom lip. God, why does Bobby have to stretch it out? Her heart’s in her fucking pants!

“As a symbol, I’d like to give my colt to its next rightful owner,” Bobby takes his colt out of his holster and walks a couple of steps with it until he’s standing right by Dean, he holds out his colt with one hand while his other hand rests on Dean’s shoulder, “Dean Winchester. Make me proud, son!”

Oh thank fucking god, she exhales audibly. She didn’t notice that she had been holding her breath the whole time.

Y/N looks over to Nick and sees his jaw dropping, sees him pushing himself through the people to get away.

“Thank you,” Dean smiles and takes the colt, quickly letting it disappear into his suit jacket. 

So, his name is Dean Winchester and he’s going to be her father’s new consigliere. She snorts and shakes her head. Her life has just gotten a little more complicated but that’s just typical, isn’t it? She can’t catch a damn break!

The people are still clapping and cheering and her father is shaking Dean’s hand while he signals for the waiter to bring them more drinks. She guesses that she’s off the hook for now. She doubts that her father wants to introduce her to the family in her attire anyway, so she makes her way to the bar. 

Y/N orders herself a shot of tequila and one for Bela as her friend shows up to join her. They down the drinks and both of them squint at the burn. 

“So, that guy looks good, huh?” Bela says, and fucking winks.

“What guy?” She tries to rile up her friend. Of course she knows who Bela’s talking about. She’s not fucking blind.

“Duh! You’ll be living under the same roof with him. Maybe you can get to know him better?”

Oh, shit! She hasn’t thought about that.

“Oh, please, Bela. Dad will be on my fucking case or better on his if he tries something with me. You remember what he did to Adam, right?.”

“Yeah,” Bela sighs, “You might be right. Doesn’t mean that it can’t happen, huh? If you like him enough, Azazel might even be happy about it since Dean’s his consigliere?”

She squints her eyes at her friend, “You know that we’re talking about my dad, right? For all I know he will probably try to arrange a marriage for me when he thinks it’s time to produce kins for the family.”

Bela’s phone rings, interrupting their talk, and her friend looks at the screen, “Shit, he’s here.”

Y/N lifts her eyebrows, “Who’s here?”

“My date. He’s taking me out.”

Right, Bela talked about dating a guy who’s a son to an associate. She stays mum about the name though, saying that she'll reveal as soon as she’s sure it leads somewhere. And honestly, Y/N is jealous that Bela’s allowed to date whomever she wants.

“Oh, have fun!” She says and Bela pulls her into a hug, “Have you seen Nick by the way?”

Bela snorts, “Not after he stormed out after he got butthurt by not being the new consigliere.”

Good, she thinks, he can stay fucking gone.

She orders another shot when Bela leaves and thinks about sticking with wine after. If tonight’s going to be boring, she might as well make it more enjoyable for her, right?

After another two glasses of wine that she downed while she watches people mingling, she takes a step away from the bar to go inside because she needs to use the bathroom. On the steps that lead up to the house, she’s concentrating so much on taking one step at a time so as not to land face down in the tipsy state that she’s in, she bumps into Nick.

“Where are you going?” Nick asks and follows after her. 

Goddammit, she’s not that quick with alcohol in her system.

“Bathroom.” She says and Nick’s faster, so he steps in front, blocking her fucking way.

Y/N annoyingly rolls her eyes and lets out a groan before she pushes past him to break into a run. 

“Come on, Y/N,” He calls after her and hurries to catch up, the clicking of his dress shoes echoing in the hallway. 

“Leave me the fuck alone, Nick!” She growls, and runs a little faster. 

“I just want to talk,”

She turns around so quickly it makes her head spin and Nick stops abruptly, taking a step back as he does, “About what?”

“Don’t you think something’s fishy that your dad didn’t want me as his consigliere?”

Oh god, why should she fucking care?

“Seriously Nick, I need to fucking pee. Maybe you should go ask my dad!”

He looks at her like he’s fucking offended when she should be the one? 

She’s back on her heels and arrives at one of the guest bathrooms when Nick grabs her by her shoulder and makes her turn around. He bends down to her level, his eyes dark and furious. 

“You think that the newcomer will be able to do the job, huh? I’ve been here for fucking years, Y/N! I fucking earned it! I know every little detail of this family.” Nick spits in her face, “I’m the better choice and I’ll get there, mark my fucking words.”

“I’m not fucking scared of your words Nick. If you got beef, go fucking talk to my dad.” She says, in her calmest voice possible. Maybe because she knows that Nick has a gun, and well — she doesn’t.

“No,” Nick chuckles, “I’m telling you, because he trusts you and if you talk to him, tell him what a better choice I would have be—”

“—Hey,” A loud rumbling deep voice rings through the hallway as Dean walks closer to where they are standing. 

There were some more people inside, but they know to look away when there’s trouble unless it concerns them directly. And she’s wondering how long Dean’s been standing there. How much he saw, because it's marble flooring and steps usually echos off on them. Especially when they are wearing dress shoes. But she didn’t hear Dean and she’s usually always aware of her surroundings. 

Dean’s interruption does nothing to scare off Nick, though, who still has a tight grip around her arm. 

“You guys okay?” Dean says as he takes the last couple of steps towards them and she shakes off Nick’s grip with all her strengths. 

“Just let me fucking pee!” She hisses, before she gets into the bathroom and locks herself inside, leaving the men behind.

  Dean saw them while they were on the steps and he watched them going inside. Azazel was still rambling on about something that Dean apparently should keep an eye on, but it’s really just fucking annoying. Dean’s good at what he’s doing, not to toot his own horn or anything. The man just doesn’t know how good Dean really is and he has got to show him. He’s done his fucking homework because Bobby has been a fucking great mentor, and he really doesn’t need to listen to a man talking about doing the dirty work, when he has never done any of it himself in his fucking life.

“Excuse me,” Dean says, and leaves Azazel behind, not looking back as he goes.

He’s risking a lot by doing this, he knows, but he just can’t help it. Nick has rub him the fucking wrong way since Dean met him.

Staying a good distance away, he watches as Y/N storms inside, with Nick trailing behind. 

She’s a feisty thing, he has got to give her that. Won’t be intimidated by big scary men, but maybe that’s because she was brought up around them. And he likes that. Likes women who can fight and fend for themselves. It also makes his job easier if he doesn’t always have to look out for her, but also, it just makes his job a lot harder too, because he can’t deny that he thinks she’s fucking cute the way she rebels against her dad by showing up in jeans with too many holes in them, and a big hooded sweater that makes her look like she’s something delicate that wants to hide in a big cocoon. Of course he didn’t miss the red of her lips. It makes him think of things he knows full well he shouldn’t be thinking.

Dean waited until the last minute to jump in, using his loud voice to interrupt them and it was a good distraction because Y/N could tear her arm from Nick’s grip and get into the bathroom, slamming the door shut in their faces.

“What do you fucking want?” Nick sneers at him and Dean thinks it’s cute how the man is fuming just because he’s not Azazel’s favorite.

He chuckles, “I want you to get your dirty hands off her,” 

“Yeah?” Nick hisses, “Who told you that she doesn’t want it, huh? She and I know each other man, we’re just playing around.” 

“It didn’t look like that to me.” Dean shrugs.

Nick laughs, throwing his head back and all, and Dean really wonders how Azazel can keep that dude around for so long. He’s obviously not right in the head. 

“Dude, she likes it fucking rough alright? We tease each other all the time.”

“NO WE DON’T!” Y/N screams from the other side of the bathroom door, and Dean lowers his face, chuckles to himself silently before he pulls himself together again to glare at Nick.

He raises one of his eyebrows, “You done here?”

“Fuck you,” Nick scoffs and Dean watches him reaching out a hand as if he wants to punch him. Dean’s quicker though, grabs it and pushes Nick against the wall, pins the man there with Dean’s forearm on the man’s shoulder blades, while he twists one of Nick’s arms behind his back.

“Yeah?” Dean whispers close to Nick’s ear. 

The man is sputtering curses under his breath, “You think you’re tough, huh? One day, you’ll slip, Dean. One day you’ll fucking make a mistake and you know what? It’s me who will be in your shoes, it’s me who’s going to punish you for your fucking mistakes. Mark my words.”

Dean lowers his head to Nick’s ear and chuckles darkly, “I’d like to see you try, Nick, I really would. But you know what? I’ll crush your bones first. And if you don’t fucking get your dirty hands off of Y/N, I’ll cut them loose and let you fucking bleed out. How’s that sound? Huh? Will you leave her alone, huh?”

“Fuck you!”

Dean twists a little harder, making the man cry out, “Will you fucking behave, Nick?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay! Fuck! Let go of me!”

“Good,” Dean chuckles darkly, pulling Nick away from the wall. He makes an attempt to straighten Nick’s suit, pats his shoulders and cheeks, “Now, we do try to behave like civilized people don’t we? We’re one family Nick, no fucking room for petty fights, okay?” Dean’s palm slaps lightly at Nick’s cheek twice more.

“Yeah,” Nick agrees, but Dean knows it’s just for show. 

He nods, “Good, now go get lost.” 

To Dean’s surprise, Nick doesn’t put up a fight. Instead, he flips Dean both his fingers before turning around and walking away.

He exhales and leans himself back against the wall, closes his eyes, and mutters a fuck. Maybe he was a little too rough on Nick. It’s his fucking first day as the official consigliere and he’s already spewing death threats. This is just going great, doesn’t it? It’s a whole fucking new environment for him. He knows that everyone has a gun around here, but nobody really uses it because it’s an unspoken rule. That’s why he’s not really concerned about threatening Nick. If something would have happened to the family consigliere, Nick would be shot dead before he could even blink. So at least Dean got the family supporting him because he’s higher in ranks than fucking Nick. That, and he got Bobby’s blessing. 

When Dean’s about to push himself away from the wall, he hears the lock of the bathroom clicking open.

He watches the door open up a tiny bit. The light of the bathroom spills out into the dimly lit hallway. However, Y/N still stays inside. 

He suppresses a grin with his head leaned against the wall as he waits patiently.

“Is he gone?” She whispers from inside. He pushes himself away from the wall, seeing if he can spot a peek of her face looking out.

Dean chuckles when he doesn't see her, “Yeah, he’s gone. You’re safe to come out.”

He stands there and watches as she finally pokes her head out from between the door and its frame, and feels a little offended that she seems like she isn’t quite trusting him. But that’s good too, he thinks, good that she doesn’t trust anyone. It’s an instinct he knows is good for survival in the family she grew up in, an instinct he hopes she’ll never lose.

“‘K,” She says meekly, and is still hesitating at first before she slowly emerges. Y/N looks around again, for good measure, “He’s gone?”

“I heard him stomping out and shut the front door so hard the whole house shook, so yeah, I guess he’s gone.”

“Good,” She breathes out and Dean can hear a sniff. She’s probably been crying in there and it kind of makes him angrier at Nick.

Dean reaches out, places his hand on her shoulder and he feels her tensing beneath his touch, “Don’t worry, I’m here.” He doesn’t elaborate on what his words mean. 

He’s here. 

That’s because he is? He’s here to help, to protect. He’s here when she needs to chase boys away like that stupid Nick. He’s here, planted in the family and he’s not going anywhere soon, hopefully.

“‘K,” Y/N nods, because she understands. He knows that she does, can feel it in the ease of her body. She exhales again before she starts to walk to the back where the party’s still in full swing, “I need a drink.”

He smirks with a shake of his head as he follows her out.

She aims straight for the bar, pushing herself through the crowd and everyone’s making room for her. Of course they do, because she’s the fucking princess around here. Dean follows and they part for him too. He guesses that he has some privilege now, or maybe it’s just the breadth of his shoulders. 

Dean joins her and orders himself a whiskey as he watches her sip on her wine. She tells the tender to leave the bottle here. He guesses that she has great plans for tonight and he’s not really a fan of that plan, but what can he do. He remembers seeing her downing shots before and she had champagne earlier, too. Her head’s gonna hurt like a son of a bitch, he just knows.

“What?” She asks as she notices him staring.

“Nothing,” He grins, “You just seem to be okay after the incident.”

“It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before,” She snorts, “Nick’s harmless. He’s all bark and no bite.”

Dean lifts his eyebrow as he takes a sip from his tumbler, “Is that so?” He asks, a little more than irritated actually. Especially at her statement that it happened before because these things should definitely not happen. And it won’t anymore. Not on his fucking watch.

“Yeah,” Y/N shrugs as if it’s no fucking big deal when he knows it fucking is.

“So, you’re telling me that underneath your sweater you don’t have bruises from the way his hand dug into your arm?” He challenges her, but it’s really just a way for him to make her notice that Nick’s not as harmless as she thinks he is. And Dean hates that he knows the son of a bitch fucking hurt her.

She lowers her face, doesn’t say anything to it because it’s true, and Dean doesn’t actually need a verbal confirmation to know that she was hurt. Her face says enough. He can’t imagine how hard her life must have been to grow up with being exposed to angry and scary men from the age of three. 

“Why are you here?” She lifts her face to ask and Dean frowns at the question. His heart thumps. For a second, he thought she knew but then she looked away again, which shows that she was only curious.

“Because I needed a job?”

Y/N chuckles, “No, why are you standing here with me when my father is over there.” She lifts her finger to point at her father and his entourage.

Oh. Well, he doesn’t really have an explanation for that.

“Did he send you, huh? Did he tell you to talk some sense into me? To stop acting like a spoiled brat and join his fucking business?” Her voice is cracking. She sounds fragile and it’s fucking not fair because it wakes his protective instincts inside of him. He can literally feel it pricking underneath his skin.

“You don’t seem spoiled to me,” He says, smiling a little. 

He says it because it’s true. She really doesn’t. Someone who’s spoiled wouldn’t look past the things Nick did to her, wouldn’t have a rebellious nature because someone who’s spoiled would get everything they desire and would be content with it. He knows that she would get everything she wants and honestly, he’s surprised that she doesn’t want it. 

She snorts, “You’d be the first to think that.” Taking another sip of her drink, she speaks again, “So, did he tell you to come over or not?”

“Nope,” Dean answers truthfully, “I’m still allowed to keep my own mind around here, y’know?” He smirks, “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Oh,” She breathes out, “That’s new.”

“What’s new?”

“Nobody ever checks if I’m okay.”

There are little pinpricks he feels in his heart. It must have been absolutely horrible to grow up in a men’s world. He wonders what Azazel thinks about having an only daughter. What he thinks about having a daughter instead of a son who could take over. She sure as hell won’t be able to, he knows that, the men wouldn’t accept her. However, he doubts that she wants to.

“I’m not like the others,” He shrugs and pushes himself from the bar, “Right, now that I see that you’re okay, I gotta go talk to the big boys.” Before he goes, he lowers himself, bends down to be on her level. Dean leans closer, his mouth inches from her ear, “You are okay, right?” He whispers before he breathes in, smells a hint of perfume, smells her shampoo. 

“I am.” She whispers back and Dean stands up straight, smiles a reassuring smile and nods before he walks off to join Azazel and Bobby.

Y/N stays at the bar and downs the remaining wine in her glass, pours herself another right after, and she can see Dean already halfway turning around to probably tell her to go slow on the alcohol but she sends him a glare. Dean sighs before he walks on. Talk about being spoiled.

When she lifts her arm to take the glass, she feels a pain in her arm, and Dean’s right about that too. She’s hurt. Nick hurt her, but she let him and what does that say about her, really?

With her full glass in her hand, she tries to blend into the crowd, and talks to a couple of people she knows because she has to keep up the facade. There are a couple of soldiers who are working under Crowley. They know not to talk to her but she thinks that maybe, with a little alcohol, they all can get over the fact that she’s forbidden fruit around here.

They are hesitant at first when she steps into their round, but to her surprise, they really talk and they joke around while one of them gets her another glass and then another. She’s way over tipsy now because she’s standing on that outer edge of being drunk and if she’s not careful, she’ll slip over and fall into the realms of being pissed. 

Tomorrow morning will be a bitch, she knows that, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

She’s in the middle of the soldiers, all of them taller than she is, while they chat and generally have a good time away from the big boys and adult conversation. She feels light-headed and giggles when Ed tells a dad joke. And then she feels it, feels an arm sneaking around her waist, feels someone’s broad chest behind her and she leans in. It must be either Max or Aiden because those were the ones standing closest to her.

Y/N leans her head on his chest, his hand spans around her stomach, holding her steady and presses her closer to him, balancing them both. And she’s thankful for that because her legs will give out anytime soon. There’s breathing next to her ear, and then she smells it, smells the cologne that triggers her memory. 

Oh, no.

Suddenly, her surroundings come crashing in. She hears laughter and chatter but not from the group of the boys. No, they are all quiet and they all look away. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink, princess?” 

Her eyes widened when she realizes that she’s right about who it is.

Fuck.

“Come on, let’s get you inside.” Dean’s arm is tight around her middle as he turns with her, “Boys, I’ll have a word with you later.” He tells the others and she looks back to see them all disperse. 

Fucking cowards. 

He walks along with her to the steps that lead into the house. 

“My dad! You can’t tell h—” She says and she tries to look back at the crowd but her eyes are hazy.

“—Don’t worry, he knows. He sent me to take care of you.” 

“He sent you?”

“Said it’s one of my duties now.”

“Me?”

“Your temper, apparently. Said I should get that in check. You like to snarl at him — at everyone actually.”

She snorts out a laugh, “Good luck,”

Once inside, Dean lifts her up over his shoulder, his hands are firm on the back of her thighs as she hears a dark chuckle, “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t need luck. By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to purr.” 

  Dean carries her up to her bedroom, his hand steady on her thigh. It’s true what he told her. Her dad really sent him. But maybe because Dean wasn’t really discrete in watching her drinking one glass after the other. She doesn’t look like she can take a lot of alcohol and the stupid boys just brought her more. It seems like Azazel doesn’t even care that she could be vulnerable to the boys in his organization. It fucking irks Dean. 

The boys and she tried to be sneaky, hiding behind the big tree, but he saw it, he always knows, and that’s a trait really. He wouldn’t have this job if he would pay half of the attention he’s paying to notice things. 

When he reaches the door to her bedroom, it feels like she’s sleeping on his shoulders. She feels a little heavier too from the slumber of her body. Dean chuckles as he pushes the door open. As he said, she’d be purring, and he’s not exactly wrong. She’s too drunk and too tired to put up a fight. And that makes him angry too. She of all people should be aware not to fucking let her guard down around fucking vultures of men. They’re not at all nice, and he knows that because he deals with them day in day out. 

Dean crouches down and sits her on the bed, her eyes are heavy, lids fluttering open and close. He places a hand on her cheek, knuckles travel over her soft skin, “You okay?” 

“Mmmhh.” 

He chuckles. Apparently she’s not really okay, but she'll be. He guesses that she will swear not to drink a drop once she wakes up in the morning. 

“Wait here, okay, I’ll go get water and Tylenol.”

He doesn’t wait for her answer, pushes himself up on his feet and walks to the bathroom. He knows that there’s a drug cabinet in every bedroom, finds water in her mini-fridge (that’s right, all the rooms come with that too), and walks back to her. 

Crouching down, he unscrews the bottle and when he’s about to hold that out for her, her hand’s on his. 

“Dean— I—,” 

She didn’t have to say more because he knows. He just fucking knows from the way the color drains from her face. He scoops her up and runs to her bathroom, places her on her knees and pushes up the toilet lid fast enough in time for her to throw up into. 

If someone would have told him five years ago that he’d be working for one of the biggest mob family in the States, he’d say, yeah, most probably because he fucking worked hard to get here. If they would have told him that his job would involve him keeping the hair out of the mob boss’s daughter’s face while she empties her stomach into the toilet bowl, Dean would have laughed into their faces.

Dean’s here now, isn’t he? So he’s going to do the best he can. He rubs her back with one hand while holding her hair back with the other, whispering soothing words to her ear because she’s crying now, too. Everything’s just fucking peachy, really. 

“Shhhh, it’s okay, let it out.” He hushes, and tries not to breathe in too much of the stink. It’s not the worst thing he smelled in his life and it’s actually not that bad compared to all the disgusting smells he experienced in his life. It’s certainly much better than the smell of a corpse that’s been stewing in the water for way too long. 

“I’m sorry,”

She’s sobbing and it almost breaks his heart. She’s too pure, not the bitch he first thought she would be. Not some fucking spoiled princess because if she was, she wouldn’t exactly apologize to him over and over.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” He tries to calm her down.

After a while, the retching stops and he was able to pull her into a sitting position, leaning her back against the tub. 

Dean gets up when he sees that she’s able to sit on her own, finds a fresh cloth and runs it under the cold tab. 

He returns and crouches down, rubs the cloth over her face, brushes at the mascara stains and the remainder of her cherry lips comes off. 

“Why are you doing this?” Her speech is slurred and he thinks it’s cute, even if he knows that he shouldn’t think that. 

Her lips are swollen from his rubbing, looking really kissable right now and something stirs in him, but he ignores it, at least he’s trying his best to.

“Because it’s my job,” Dean answers before he gets up. 

He leaves the cloth on the sink and takes her toothbrush, squirts paste on it, and walks back to her. 

“Say aaah,” He says as he chuckles and holds the toothbrush to her mouth.

Y/N presses her lips into a thin line as she frowns. 

Definitely fucking cute, he thinks.

With an audible growl, she snatches the brush from his hand, “No, that’s not your job.” She says before she begins to brush her teeth.

“Look, I understand that a consigliere’s job shouldn’t involve these things, but your dad is testing me, see if I am worthy.”

“You really want this position, huh?” She reaches out a hand while her toothbrush is still stuck in her mouth and Dean grabs at her to help her up.

Spitting into the sink, she looks at him through the mirror and his eyes meet hers.

“Not my fave position, but yeah,” He grins, and he knows it’s all cocky and bravado. 

Dean’s phone rings when she’s about to say something. He knows that because she was gasping after he dropped that line.

He chuckles before he walks out into her room to take the call, and she closes the bathroom door behind him. 

Her dad calls to ask how things are and Dean explains how he found her and that he’ll make sure she’s alright before he’ll be out again. 

Just when he hangs up, she comes stumbling out of the bathroom and Dean almost didn’t catch her on time. He steadies her, walks her to her bed, looking away when she gets out of her pants and pulls her hoodie over her head. Dean stares down to his shoes, tries not to even think about how she might look underneath because he’s not fucking allowed to.

“You can look now,” She mumbles before he turns and sees her yawn as she settles into her bed. Dean’s cheek turns colorful, blood rushing to his head when he sees her. 

He pulls the cover over her, hands her the Tylenol and water which she couldn’t swallow before, and watches her gulp it down. 

“Will you be okay? Need anything else?” He strokes over her head, smoothing her hair back and lets his knuckles travel over her cheeks before he pulls his hand away, balling his hand into fists at the realization.

He should definitely not be doing this.

Her eyelids are heavy and she closes them, “Can you stay until I’m sleeping? Please?”

Wow, his heart wasn’t broken before but damn well is now. She’s asking him to stay and Dean has a feeling that usually, nobody does. 

“Yeah,” He says, “Sure.” He sits down on the edge of the bed and she curls up on her side, her forehead touches his thigh. 

“Will you go back to the party?” Her voice is a mumble.

“Yeah, I will.”

“Good,” She licks her lips, “Tell Bobby I’m sorry for leaving early.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand and you’ll get to see him more now that he has more time.”

“That’s what they all say. Nobody really has time for me.”

“Is that so?” He asks but when there’s no answer, he turns his head to look at her face that’s now pressed to his thigh, her breathing is even, she has already fallen asleep.

Dean chuckles, shakes his head because he can’t believe that he became a fucking babysitter to the boss’ daughter. But on the other hand, that’s good too, he thinks. Good that it’s him and not fucking Nick who found her because they all know that Nick wouldn’t have gotten her to bed. At least not the way Dean does. 

Jesus, he gets worked up just thinking about what could have happened if it was Nick and not him. 

He places his hand on her head, strokes her hair some more, and waits until she’s sleeping deeply. 

After he makes perfectly sure that she’s sleeping soundly, he bends down to place a kiss on her temple. He couldn’t not do it. Dean leaves and makes his way back to the party. He has a couple of boys he still needs to take care of.

Chapter.02

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[anchorshots]

you know, it’s getting real heckin hard to reserve judgment on sotsugyou until it finishes airing the more this drags on. i keep watching and thinking “man, this would work so much better if it were fleshed out in visual novel format or if they re-ordered arcs, or spent less time retreading gou’s ground on sotsu to get us to the conflict faster”

maybe i’ll write out an idea of my sotsugyou fixes sometime. 

on one hand, if we’re gonna be following satoko’s point of view we’re at least in new territory from here on out given she more or less vanished until ooishi decided to try out his infinite ammo hax at the festival. on the other hand... do we really need two more episodes of tatariakashi when we could end it in one and get back to the gun scene in nekodamashi that much sooner?

my first reaction to the satoko scenes were “goddammit”... i really wanted to believe that there was some good left in her and that we were really seeing how conflicted she was about what she’s done and still has to do. i haven’t given up on her yet, but she’s making it really hard... 

... you know, i wonder what’s going on in the matsuribayashi fragment. the rika we’ve been following in gou isn’t the rika from matsuribayashi, right? that rika’s sitting at the restaurant with the adult club, probably wondering why satoko’s taking so long. geez, what if they go looking for her and satoko’s dead in the shrine because she started looping? i... really hope the satoko in that fragment’s okay and that those two specifically can work things out, but... 

i don’t see how this can end happily for looper satoko anymore, beyond becoming lambdadelta and having whatever it is she has going on with bernkastel to look forward to.

that said, teppei being the one to bring ooishi into the fold is actually pretty interesting. i hate the guy but i guess his one redeeming(?) factor is that if he decides to commit to something, he commits. ... he just. generally is an abusive douchebag with that resolve. i figured the satoko situation caught his attention and that he’d go to check it out himself, if only to see what teppei’s doing... but teppei outright groveling and begging for help? goddamn. if he wasn’t... well, teppei, i’d feel bad for him.

we didn’t need that laundry scene though, what the hell. 

and i’m actually really annoyed r07 lied about ooishi going l5 being natural tbh. like. i’m not overly fond of the guy beyond ac memes but... i dunno, i feel like it being natural would’ve been way more interesting? 

the pieces are there, just waiting to fall into place. watanagashi is coming up. teppei’s... actually not doing anything wrong this time? the investigation of the hojo residence he just conducted proved it? he knows they’re still discriminated against because of his history with the dam war and oyashiro-sama’s curse? he knows about hinamizawa’s strong community spirit and solidarity? oryou sonozaki herself is getting involved with the child protection service protest, and he thinks the sonozakis are the ones carrying out the murders???? and given his thoughts about keiichi just moving in and not knowing what the “bullying” really is, he clearly believes satoko’s story.

like. he’s watching the town go on a witch hunt to separate an “innocent” man and his niece; a broken family, yes, but one that he’s personally looked into and can at least see that there’s an attempt at reconciliation going on here. that would be more than enough to send him spiralling, i imagine, but i guess we gotta make the most of that one h173 vial satoko grabbed. sigh. 

...but also i forgot just how much of an asshole ac man could be even without being injected with h173; immediately deciding to throw the hojos under the bus and set them up as the curse’s next targets to catch the sonozakis in the act? goddamn.

i imagine next week teppei’s gonna learn about k1 specifically and decide he’s the bully ringleader, which is why he attacks him at the hojo residence... god, poor keiichi.

overall pretty interesting episode, but i’m still salty about the h173 and that there’s apparently enough of tataridamashi left to “explain” that it warrants two episodes.

[alicemarion]

OUTLAST :  THE  MURKOFF  ACCOUNT  (  PART 2  )   sentence starters !

this  prompt  was  made  using  dialogue  from  issues  #4 ,    #5  and  #6  of  outlast :  the  murkoff  account  by  red  barrels .    feel  free  to  edit  any  of  these  to  make  them  more  suitable !

“  _____  wasn’t  fucking  around  about  disappearing .  ”

“  our  chances  of  finding  a  lead  in  this  are  vanishingly  slim .  ”

“  what  you  got  there ?  ”

“  i  hate  it  when  they  have  families .  ”

“  since  when  did  _____  hurt  women  and  kids ?  ”

“  sorry ,    that  was  in  bad  taste .  ”

“  he’s  been  gone  for  a  while  now .  ”

“  i  saw  him  back  just  last  night .  ”

“  i  saw  him ,     standing  right  over  there .  ”

“  drove  my  dogs  batshit ,    which  is  weird .  ” 

“  they  always  used  to  like  him .  ”

“  _____  said  _____  was  here  last  night .  ”

“  it’d  take  us  days  to  find  him  under  all  this  shit  if  he  was .  ”

“  guess  we  better  get  started  then .  ”

“  it’s  garbage .  ”

“  is  ...    is  some  of  this  garbage  moving ?  ”

“  ants .    the  place  is  infested .  ”

“  what  do  you  mean ?  ”

“  emailed  him  ants .    not  the  strangest  thing  i’ve  seen .  ”

“  these  look  like  passwords .  ”

“  ouch !  ”

“  little  fucker  bit  me .  ”

“  black  ants  don’t  bite .  ”

“  motherfucker !    motherfuckfuckfuck -  ”

“  they’re  all  over  me !    jesus !  ”

“  not  there !    not  there !  ”

“  water !    water !  ”

“  goddammit !    make  room !    i’m  coming  in !  ”

“  fuck  this !  ”

“  it’s  not  working !  ”

“  we  need  fire !  ”

“  take  your  fucking  clothes  off !  ”

“  now  do  me !  ”

“  got  anything  i  could  wear ?  ”

“  nope .  ”

“  what  the  fuck  am  i  gonna  do ?  ”

“  hey ,    that’s  the  same  homeless  guy .  ”

“  that’s  not  possible .  ”

“  i’m  sure  it’s  him .    he’s  following  us .  ”

“  hey !    stop !  ”

“  where’d  you  go  ...   ?  ”

“  you  work  for  _____  ,    don’t  you ?  ”

“  ...    who  are  you ?  ”

“  i  believe  you’ve  heard  of  me .  ”

“  you’ve  been  following  us .  ”

“  what’s  your  name ?  ”

“  yes .    i’ve  been  watching  you .  ”

“  you’ve  got  something  most  running  dog  mercenaries  don’t .  ”

“  i’m  not  a  mercenary .  ”

“  you’ve  got  shame .   you  know  what  you’re  doing  is  wrong .  ”

“  it’s  a  job .  ”

“  but  you’re  somebody  who’d  chase  after  me  ,    despite  the  fact  that  you’re  injured  and  naked .    who  does  that ?  ”

“  ...    i  can’t  stand  not  knowing .  ”

“  tell  me  your  name .  ”

“  i’ve  read  your  files  ,    _____ .  ”

“  six  years  ago  you  leaked  company  files  and  vanished .  ”

“  been  off  the  map  ever  since  ,    encouraging  other  whistleblowers .  ”

“  you’re  trying  to  destroy  _____ .  ”

“  of  course  i  am .  ”

“  they’re  evil .    you  work  for  the  devil .  ”

“  you’re  protecting  _____ ?  ”

“  you’ll  never  find  him .  ”

“  i  couldn’t  tell  you  if  i  knew .  ”

“  willful  ignorance .    i  remember  that .    almost  let  me  sleep  some  nights .  ”

“  how  do  you  sleep ?  ”  

“  how  do  you  justify  working  for  people  you  know  are  evil ?   ”

“  _____  was  a  pebble  in  a  pond .  ”

“  that  is  where  the  real  sickness  spreads .  ”

“  those  are  coordinates .  ”

“  if  you  cannot  look  at  what’s  there  and  not  eat  yourself  hollow  with  shame  ,    you’re  not  human  anymore .  ”

“  i  need  your  help .  ”

“  i  need  somebody  still  inside  _____ .  ”

“  i’m  not  asking  ,    i’m  telling  you .   you’re  going  to  help  me .  ”

“  ...    i  have  to  do  my  job .  ”

“  what  are  you  ...    the  fuck ?!  ”

“  freeze !    i  said  freeze  ,    motherfucker !  ”

“  i’m  leaving .  ”

“  please  don’t  make  me  hurt  you .  ”

“  he’s  ...    a  monster .  ”

“  what  was  he  shoving  in  your  face ?  ”

“  fucked  if  i  know .  ”

“  let’s  get  you  some  clothes  before  i  get  too  turned  on .  ”

“  dental  records .   my  identification .   he  wasn’t  done  with  me .  ”

“  and  we  weren’t  done  with  him .  ”

“  this  make  any  kind  of  sense  to  you ?  ”

“  nothing  i  feel  good  about .  ”

“  but  at  least  it  closes  the  books  for  now .  ”

“  the  evidence  couldn’t  get  any  more  thoroughly  destroyed .  ”

“  there  is  one  more  thing .  ”

“  nothing  i  know  of .  ”

“  i  wouldn’t  put  too  much  faith  in  anything  i  heard  from  an  animated  pile  of  maggots .  ”

“  maybe  we  should  check  it  out .  ”

“  nah  ,    leave  it  alone .  ”

“  you  should  get  home  ,    spend  some  time  with  your  daughter  ...    make  sure  she  doesn’t  grow  up  to  be  somebody  like  me .  ”

“  he  ain’t  gonna  let  us  get  away .  ”

“  every  step  we  take  ,    the  less  power  he  got .  ”

“  we’ll  get  to  the  wicked  part  of  the  world  ,    and  god  hisself  ain’t  even  gonna  be  able  to  find  us .  ”

“  do  you  know  if  yeshua - ha  nostri  was  a  real  person ?   like  ,    in  the  bible ?  ”

“  never  heard  of  him .  ”

“  when’s  that  book  report  due ?  ”

“  you’re  getting  an  early  jump .  ”

“  figured  i’d  be  too  beat  to  work  on  wednesday .  ”

“  you  didn’t  touch  your  dinner .  ”

“  i  wasn’t  hungry .   it’s  not  like  i  need  the  extra  calories .  ”

“  _____  ,    honey  ,    that’s  crazy .  ”

“  you’re  a  string  bean .    a  beautiful  string  bean .  ”

“  shut  up  ,    _____  ,    god  ...    ”

“  there’s  somebody  messing  with  our  mailbox .  ”

“  your  daughter  is  connected .  ”

“  my  partner  and  i  had  agreed  not  to  investigate .  ”

“  turns  out  i  was  lying .  ”

“  i  hear  you  now .    where  are  you ?    it’s  noisy .  ”

“  sorry  to  interrupt  you  on  a  sunday  ...    ”

“  you’re  not  interrupting  anything .  ”

“  i  was  just  ...    folding  laundry  ,    listening  to  prairie  home  companion .  ”

“  i  don’t  think  i’m  gonna  make  it  into  the  office  tomorrow .  ”

“  i  need  to  spend  some  time  with  _____ .  ”

“  no  worries .    we  all  need  personal  time .  ”

“  fuck  me  ...    no  service !  ”

“  i  guess  the  heat  and  the  sun  got  to  me .  ”

“  heavenly  god .  ”

“  _____ ?    what’s  wrong ?  ”

“  are  they  out  of  hot  chocolate ?  ”

“  multiple  perforations  of  the  intestines  ...    spread  throughout  her  blood  ...    had  to  induce  a  coma  in  order  to  arrest  progress  ...    internal  bleeding  ...  ”  

“  surgery  is  no  longer  an  option .  ”    

“  _____  is  dead .    i’m  so  sorry .  ”

“  aiiee !  ”

“  i’m  so  sorry  honey  ,    i  didn’t  mean  ...  ”

“  we  don’t  want  no  trouble !  ”

“  i’m  just  gon’  take  your  pistol .  ”

“  hey  ,    hey  ,    take  it  easy .    jesus  fucking  christ  ...  ”

“  don’t  you  take  that  name  in  vain !  ”

“  safety’s  on .  ”

“  who’s  the  girl ?  ”

“  jesus  ,    how  pregnant  is  she ?  ”

“  god  have  mercy  on  your  soul .  ”

“  i’m  not  going  to  hurt  you .  ”

“  you  need  helllll  ...    ”

“  mmm - hmm .  ”

“  that’s  all  you  got ?    ‘ mmm - hmm ? ’  ”

“  i  heard  you .   it’s  the  least  crazy  thing  you’ve  told  me  so  far .  ”

“  fair  enough .  ”

“  you  are  in  such  deep  shit .  ”

“  i  know .  ”

“  you  lied  to  me  ,    you  went  off  the  reservation .  ”

“  what  the  fuck  are  you  doing  ,    _____ ?  ”

“  i  fucked  up .  ”

“  don’t  fuck  yourself  any  deeper .    i’m  on  my  way .  ”

“  spill .  ”

“  okay  ,    number  one  ,    you  work  for  _____  ,    not  _____ .  ”

“  number  two  ,    you  don’t  interfere  with  ongoing  experiments .  ”

“  we  only  enter  the  equation  when  the  science  is  done  and  the  side  effects  need  mopping  up .  ”

“  shit  ,    you  don’t  even  know  if  this  is  an  experiment .  ”

“  and  number  three  ,    fuck  you .  ”

“  you  don’t  work  without  me .    we’re  partners  ,    you  stupid  motherfucker .  ”

“  sorr  ...    ”

“  don’t  say  you’re  sorry .    i  hate  that .  ”

“  you  want  the  silver  lining  to  your  shit  show ?  ”

“  you  don’t  suppose  you  brought  me  a  suit ?  ”

“  i  even  brought  you  a  tie .    hope  yellow’s  alright .  ”

“  you  called  it  a  ‘ vision ’ .    not  a  hallucination .  ”

“  it  felt  real .  ”

“  first  rule  in  the  playbook  is  don’t  get  high  on  your  own  product .  ”

“  what  about  brain  injury ?  ”

“  the  scan  must  have  been  corrupted .  ”

“  is  there  more  to  your  testimony ?  ”

“  yes  ,    of  course  ,    excuse  me .    i  was  just  ...    ”

“  could  we  see  those  brain  scans ?  ”

“  they’re  already  off  to  the  lab  ,    but  we  have  copies .  ”

“  evidence  ,    all  of  it .    this  had  become  a  matter  of  containment .  ”

“  we’d  love  to  meet  the  patient .  ”

“  the  little  guy  in  here  has  been  kicking  up  a  storm .  ”

“  is  that  a  tattoo ?  ”

“  a  globe .    no  ,    wheels .    ‘ wheels  within  wheels ’ .    that’s  biblical  ,    from  the  book  of  ...    ezekiel .  ”

“  you  can’t  have  him !    you  can’t .    i’ll  die  before  i’ll  let  you  kill  him .  ”

“  i  seen  the  messenger  and  i  know  i  ain’t  burdened  with  the  enemy .  ”

“  my  blood  is  true  ,    i’ve  sipped  at  the  fountain  and  borne  the  pain  and  marks  of  salvation .   ”

“  you  ain’t  gonna  take  my  baby  ,    you  ain’t  ...    ain’t  ...    ”

“  get  a  doctor !  ”

“  doctor !  ”

“  we  lost  her .    we  need  to  leave  ,    now .  ”

“  she’s  dead  ,    gone .    there  was  nothing  we  could  do .  ”    

“  minimal  footprint .  ”

“  i  realized  too  late  i  was  operating  above  my  security  clearance .  ”

“  are  you  sure  she  was  dead ?  ”

“  yeah  ,    case  closed .  ”

“  it’s  sad .  ”

“  still  ,    i  gotta  get  home .    i  said  i’d  be  there .  ”

“  you’re  a  good  dad  ...    you  always  take  care  of  your  girl .  ”

“  _____ !    you  home ?!  ”

“  you  work  for  us  now .  ”

“  we  didn’t  find  dick .  ”

“  there  we  go  ,    my  child .    every  last  drop  of  salvation .    your  children  are  waiting  for  you  in  heaven .  ”

“  god  does  not  pour  half  measures .  ”

“  the  storm  is  abating .    all  these  undeserved  blessings .  ”

“  he’s  still  not  answering .  ”

“  send  people  to  his  house .  ”

“  they’ve  been  feeding  _____  information .  ”

“  that’s  no  good .  ”

“  i’d  put  my  money  on  _____ .  ”

“  if  we  find  him  ,    i’ll  put  electrodes  on  _____ .  ”

“  how  many  bodies  we  looking  at ?  ”

“  hundreds .    it’ll  take  us  days  to  get  them  all  sorted .  ”

“  lot  of  these  local  corpses  show  signs  of  cyanide  poisoning .  ”

“  god  damn  this  guy’s  heavy  ...    ”

“  that  doesn’t  look  like  cyanide .  ”

“  yeah  ,    a  lot  of  them  got  creative  about  dying .  ”

“  took  a  lot  of  what  killed  her  to  get  the  job  done .  ”

“  last  name  sounds  like  a  crustacean  you’re  not  supposed  to  eat .  ”

“  how  did  you  know ?  ”

“  he  was  supposed  to  be  making  sure  they  didn’t  find  this  place .  ”

“  we  got  one  breathing  here !  ”

“  ‘ and  i  only  am  escaped  alone  to  tell  thee . ’  ”

“  is  that  from  wrath  of  khan ?  ”

“  it’s  actually  book  of  job  ,    by  way  of  moby  ...    ”

“  i  know  what  it  is  ,    you  don’t  have  to  try  and  impress  me .  ”

“  well  ,    holy  shit .  ”

“  his  eyes  are  all  pupil .    completely  catatonic .  ”

“  we  need  to  dig  in  his  head .    don’t  be  gentle .  ”

“  they  rarely  are .  ”

“  there’s  blood  on  the  walls .    looks  like  something  was  written  and  smeared  away .  ”

“  what  do  you  want  to  do ?  ”

“  actually  ,    no .    do  me  a  favor  and  find  his  corpse  ,    because  if  he’s  still  alive  ,    he’s  fucking  dangerous .  ”

“  where’s  _____ ?  ”

“  you’re  asking  the  wrong  question .  ”

“  i’ll  still  help  you  find  the  answer  ,    but  you’ll  need  to  trust  me .  ”

“  dead  ,    twice .  ”

“  how  about  you  just  tell  me  whatever  it  is  you  want  to  tell  me .  ”

“  it’s  not  surprising  religion  would  be  such  an  effective  delivery  mechanism .  ”

“  gods  communicating  with  men  ,    gods  dividing  themselves  into  components  that  men  could  understand .    a  trinity .  ”

“  in  the  name  of  the  father  ...    and  of  the  son  ...    and  of  the  holy  spirit .    amen .  ”

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Found You

Note: Hey! Damn, it's been a while since I posted. School finals and then not having a laptop for weeks will do that to you, apparently. Anyway, this is a oneshot I had lots of fun writing! Early in my werewolf Stan AU, someone on AO3 commented that it would be pretty cool if Stan managed to escape, and... well, you'll see. Thanks to the person who gave me this idea! Hope you all enjoy :)

________________________________________

Stan was beginning to think that it was time to re-evaluate his life.

How many times did a guy have to chew his way out of something before coming to that conclusion? Twice, apparently. At least this time he’d had wolf fangs to back him up; the last time he’d chewed his way out of a sticky situation he hadn’t even had that.

He’d been so desperate for so long to just do what Pa had ordered. Make millions, prove to everyone that he wasn’t just a failure, be welcomed back home. But – it was never gonna be enough, was it? He may as well stop living in a fantasy world.

Fuck getting rich and being accepted back into his family, Stan just wanted to sleep in a bed. He wondered idly if this backwater town was hiring waiters or something. Didn’t need high school credentials or a valid ID to be a waiter, right? Sure the pay was shit and there was no hope of getting rich enough to make Pa happy, but he might be able to afford a cheap motel or something.

Not that Stan looked like prime employee material right now. When he’d first stumbled into this diner the waitress had looked like she was expecting him to either rob the place or drop down dead in front of her. Now it seemed like her suspicion had given way to pity because she placed a slice of pie in front of him alongside the coffee he’d ordered.

“It’s on the house.”

Hey, he’d take what he could get.

Stan dug into his pie, groaning happily at the warmth seeping through his mouth. The pleasure of eating actual food was slightly marred by the ache in his jaw. He winced and poked at his teeth with his tongue, checking out the damage. All things considered? Not bad. It probably wouldn’t take more than a few weeks to heal the worst of the damage. Hey, werewolf perks.

Luckily Stan had only needed to break the lock of Ford’s cage to escape – if he’d tried chewing through the bars he wasn’t sure he would have any teeth left at the end of it. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if there had been heavier security. He’d managed to break himself out before shifting into human form to unlatch the shed door, limping into the woods as quickly as he could while the night still hung heavy and quiet. He’d finally found his car and gunned it until he ended up in this dump, a town a few miles away. Sitting in this booth was the first time he’d rested since getting out of there and he was beginning to realize that everything hurt.

The whole ‘nearly-beaten-to-death’ thing wasn’t new to Stan, but that didn’t make in pleasant. From the pain in his chest he was pretty sure at least one rib was broken. Peering at his reflection in a spoon revealed that he was also covered in a myriad of ugly black, brown and yellow bruises like a patchwork blanket – a patchwork blanket with a mullet. Ugh. He put the spoon back to its original purpose of scooping pie, so he didn’t have to look at his reflection anymore.

Also, he couldn’t remember hurting his neck, but he must have somehow because a spot on the back of it was tender and swollen. When Stan reached up to feel it there was a little lump. Maybe he could get some ice for that to bring the swelling down? Nah, no use when his whole face looked like a discoloured turnip.

He wolfed down (haha, wolfed) the last of his sad little meal and felt around in his pockets for spare change. He could just finish his coffee and run, but that would make a pretty bad first impression and he was still hoping to get hired. On the other hand, this coffee was expensive as shit and Stan could probably buy himself a cheap burger or something with the cash tomorrow. Would it be better to make a good impression, stick around in this town and look for work, or steal now and search for another place?

He gulped down a mouthful of scalding, bitter coffee. It was way better than lapping lukewarm water from a metal bowl. Upgrades, people. Upgrades.

The door gave a stupidly cheerful jingle that Stan resented – partly on principle, and partly because who the fuck goes to a diner at three in the morning? (Except for Stan, because he was pathetic, and of course the waitress. At least she got paid to be there.) Stan took another sip of his drink and glanced across to get a look at the other sad sack who had just come in.

He choked.

Because holy shit that was Ford standing in the doorway, staring right back at him.

Ford’s glasses were askew and his hair mussed, like a man who had recently crawled out of bed. How the hell was he there? Stan had barely left an hour ago! He coughed and thumped at his chest to encourage his stupid lungs to start breathing again.

Ford’s eyes travelled down to some machine doohickey he was holding, and then back up to Stan. A frown flashed across his features.

“…there you are.”

Stan tried to speak but it came out as a wheeze. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“Uh – Ford. Didn’t – um – didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

Ford walked over and slid into the booth across from Stan, eyes scanning him. The intense gaze made Stan shrink back into his seat and cough uncomfortably. Well, at least Ford had no reason to believe that Stan was the werewolf he was missing?

“Are you some kind of – werewolf?” Ford demanded.

…shit.

Stan schooled his expression into a grin, trying to ignore the thundering of his heart pounding against his chest. “Werewolf? Psh, Ford, you know those don’t exist.”

Ford rolled his eyes at Stan’s forced nonchalance. “Stanley, please. I tagged you with a tracker, I know it’s you.”

Well, Ford kinda had him there.

“Wait, wait wait wait – you chipped me?” Stan hissed. Ford only nodded to himself with self-satisfaction. Stan cursed and reached up to scratch at that tiny lump in his neck, wincing as his fingers prodded tender flesh. Damn. He should have noticed earlier and clawed it out.

And now Ford was watching him with that calculating stare. Stan stared back defiantly, swallowing down the growl that bubbled up in his chest. He would not be out-stared, dammit.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Ford’s question broke the frigid silence. Stan blinked.

“You – uh, what?”

Ford pressed on. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were? Who you were? Hell, this entire mess could have been avoided if you’d just-”

“Oh, so it’s my fault, is it?” Stan couldn’t bite down a hint of a growl, and he took pleasure in seeing his brother’s eyes widen at the low rumble.

“…I didn’t say that.”

“May as well have.” Calm down, he had to calm down. He couldn’t afford to lose his cool in front of people. Of course, it would have been easier to control himself if he wasn’t exhausted and aching all over and starving and shivering and afraid and so so angry. The gritting of his teeth was already becoming awkward around sharp canines and the beginnings of a large, lolling tongue. He had to get out of there now.

“-back to my house.” Ford was continuing. How long had he been speaking for? “You could be a danger to yourself and others in this state.”

“I’m fine.” Stan stood up roughly. Thank god the waitress had ducked into the kitchen for something – she wouldn’t be monitoring to make sure he paid. And as an added bonus she also wouldn’t see the inhuman gleam of his irises. He yanked his hood over his head just to be sure and stalked for the door.

“Need I remind you that you attacked a man just yesterday?” Ford followed him relentlessly. Stan shouldered through the door and his dirty boots crunched in the thin layer of snow outside. Fat flakes spiraled down around him and stung his face as he stomped to his car, Ford in fast pursuit.

Ugh, the snow muffled the sounds around him so all he could hear were the sounds of two bodies, magnified and echoing – harsh breathing and the pounding of blood in his ears, crunching of footsteps behind him and the minute scrape of fabric brushing against itself in movement. The sensation of being followed made him shiver, made every muscle in his tired body tense.

It’s just Ford. Not some rando. He won’t hurt you, calm down. Focus on the moment, Ford is talking to you.

“No.” Stan snapped out. “No, I attacked his fucking dog. He’s the one who tried to bash my skull in.”

Footsteps behind him brought to mind a similar sound. Footsteps crunching in snow as the person followed him when he tried to crawl away. He could still see the burly figure looming over him. Red, red hair and red, red blood on his own pelt-

His breaths came quick and fast, gulps of frigid air. Ford was speaking to him loudly but the words all blurred together. A hand reached for him and Stan jerked away.

“No!”

His voice rumbled with a low growl and Stan cursed to himself, claws digging into his own bicep as he tried to force the Shift away. Now was not the time to have a breakdown. He was supposed to be in control, goddammit!

But the urge to Shift sat heavy in his chest, almost an ache. Shifting made him safe, because shifting made him dangerous, and nothing can hurt you if you hurt it first and every cell in his body was screaming for him to run away-

Stan didn’t realize he’d sunk to his knees until he felt the snow soaking through his pant legs. Burning, biting cold. Pain radiated from his arm, too – his claws had slid under the skin of his arm and sent pain stinging through him. But the pain was good, it kept him grounded.

“Stanley-”

“Shut. Up.” Stan growled out. Ford shut up.

Deep breath in, deep breath out, forcing his lungs to expand and contract. Slowly the Shift settled itself, claws shrinking into dirty nails and fangs becoming blunt and fur (when had the fur appeared?) receding into skin.

Stan ran his tongue over his teeth to ensure that they were wholly human once again. The fluctuation between states hadn’t helped their aching – his gums throbbed and he could taste blood.

“Oooookay.” He pulled in another deep breath and let it out slowly. “Alright. I’m good.”

Ugh, the snow was soaking through his pants. Stan pulled himself up and tried dusting the white powder off, but his body heat had already caused it to melt into the fabric. He cursed.

“…are you okay?” Ford finally said.

A glance at Ford’s face showed equal amounts of wariness and concern. Which, hey, Stan didn’t think that his brother would be concerned about him, so that was a nice surprise.

…but there was also the possibility that he was just worried Stan would go apeshit and tear him to pieces. That would make more sense.

“You’re fine, I’m not dangerous or anything unless I wanna be.” Stan waved a hand. “Just my Shifting acting up. Funnily enough, it’s hard to not slip into danger mode when you’ve been locked in a cage for hours on end! Funny how that happens, huh?”

Ford had the grace to look a little guilty. He reached to take Stan’s arm, then hesitated before his fingers made contact. “…look. Can I at least take you home? You shouldn’t be driving in this state.”

Stan had to suppress a laugh. Sure, take the homeless man home. That had to be some kind of paradox, right? He spat a glob of blood into the snow to clear his throat before responding. “No need, I’m fine.”

Ford was staring at him in horror now. Stan blinked.

“…what?”

“Was that blood?”

“Er. Yeah. Why?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were badly injured? You could have internal bleeding!” Ford shrilled, making Stan take a step back and laugh nervously.

“Seriously, I’m fine, I just broke a couple teeth on the-”

“You broke a couple -” Ford spluttered. “I’m taking you to the hospital right now.”

“I don’t need to go to the-”

“We are going to the hospital now!”

“Ford-”

“Hospital. Now.”

…you know what? Stan’s day couldn’t get any weirder. He shrugged.

Ford grabbed him by the arm and started towing him through the car park, Stan trying not to limp as he followed. From Ford’s worried cluck he didn’t do a very good job.

“Aren’t you gonna, like, try to study me or whatever?” Stan managed as he was pushed into a car. Ford dropped into the driver’s seat.

“Of course I am, I’ve never seen a werewolf before, but that will be after I know my brother isn’t dying!”

“…fair enough. Can I pick the music?”

“No.”

[mythrilhusk]

Korosensei Never Dies -Chapter 9

Words: 2,140 Ao3 Version Chapter 8 (Last)

TW: threats of violence, heavy (but short) discussions of death/murder

Quackity scowls blearily at the returning heroes. He and the other Ducklings were up the whole damn night trying to work out infiltration plans after Bad gave them the location of the laboratory and then peaced out with his team of scammers. Bad won't be returning again, but thanks to him, the Ducklings missed the whole rescue mission.

It's summer vacation, so everyone ought to be home anyway, but Philza promised to teach them fighting, and by the goddamned stars, Quackity is determined to make the old man follow through. 

Philza steps tiredly into the classroom. His bloodshot, baggy eyes go wide in surprise as he sees all the students gathered there. Quackity salutes him with a smirk. Ranboo hides in the shadows of the door, watching Phil with worried sulkiness. 

"Kids, I need a favor." Philza collapses into a chair, hiding his face. "I know you want him dead. But- please. Wait a bit." He hesitates and then continues in a ragged voice, "Purpled hit him with a neutralizing agent. He- he can die, again. I'm begging you all, please don't tell anyone or try to kill him until our time is up." 

"Why should we??" Quackity demands, realizing immediately with a confusing mixture of delight and horror that Technoblade has been rendered vulnerable. Does this mean their plan to sneak into the lab is pointless now? "I don't know." Philza hiccups. He's crying. The tears burn a hole through Quackity's delight. "I don't know, dammit. Please, just wait to kill him at the end of the year. No, better, kill both of us then, I've done the same terrible things as he has! I should be punished too, goddammit, why is he the one to suffer for both our crimes??" 

"I'll wait." Quackity leans back. "I'll fucking wait till time's up, but that doesn't mean I'm giving up my revenge." 

"I'll wait too!" Tommy cries. "I'm the fucking king of procrastination!" 

Sapnap and the Ducklings follow Quackity's example. The others follow Tommy's example. Together, the class proclaims their willingness to postpone Techno's death. 

Philza rubs his eyes and takes the handkerchief Tommy stole from Wilbur to offer him. "Thank you, kids." 

"We still get fighting lessons, right?" Quackity asks with a scowl.

"Yes, of course you do. You've all earned them." Philza smiles tremulously. "Ranboo, Techno, you can come out." 

Ranboo steps into the light, blatantly normal-seeming, so unlike the nightmare Tommy and Charlie described. He hovers beside Technoblade as the former terrorist limps through the room to reach his desk. He seems so small and frail without the mutation-induced strength. He looks so weak. Quackity could put a bullet through his head right now and he wouldn't be able to dodge or absorb it. 

But Quackity sees Philza watching Techno with worried, fond eyes. He thinks of Sapnap. Of Techno eating the goddamn grenade to save Sapnap. 

Quackity decides he can wait. If he kills Technoblade right away, after all, Philza won't give anybody fighting lessons. 

And if Philza doesn't give them fighting lessons, then who the fuck is going to wreak vengeance on whatever motherfucking scientists created the mutants?

++++

Niki and Jack watch through binoculars as their enemies spar with each other in the clearing outside the remote school building designated for Class 3-E. "Dang." Jack says. "They're not bad." 

"They can't fight a bomb." Niki grins. 

"Much less ten." Jack matches Niki's toothy smile. 

"Did you get the supplies?" 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Good work, Jack." Niki drops lightly from the tree. "We can proceed with the operation Smithereens in a week." 

"Awesome." Jack chuckles darkly. "Do we really want to give them that much time, though?" 

"We need to get them acclimated to the bait, first." Niki taps her fingers to her lips. "This will go wonderfully, Jack, don't worry. That loser class won't be a threat much longer." 

++++

"Sir, Purpled is dead." HBomb reports, wincing nervously in apprehension. 

"The fuck he is, I told that bitch to get me Technoblade, and by god, he'd better do it!" Schlatt tips a whiskey bottle into his mouth, gulping the burning liquid down. He lowers it and peers at HBomb. "Unless somebody fucked up again." 

"He must have, sir." HBomb grasps the lifeline eagerly. "The neutralizing agent was nowhere near his body." 

"What?" Schlatt says calmly, his tone barely warning of the torrent of rage he's about to unleash upon the poor unwitting HBomb. "Where the fuck is it, then?" 

"Our clean-up team found the crushed casing nearby!" HBomb continues to dig his grave. "So-" 

"So he found it, and destroyed it." Schlatt snarls. 

HBomb nods quickly. "Y-yes, but-"

"Do you know how long it took to make enough neutralizer for one dart??" 

"Months, sir, but-"

"And you're telling me Purpled fucked up badly enough that somehow that goddamn mutant knew about the dart and destroyed it." 

"Well- see, we have reason to believe Dream is involved!" 

"Damn it!" Schlatt bellows and smashes the whiskey bottle on the table. His hand starts to bleed and sting from the shards. "HBomb." He growls, trying to pretend he's still in control; he needs to still be in control. "Why the fuck is that motherfucking spider involved?? I gave him a mutant already, why the hell does he want to steal mine??" 

"I thought you'd want his help!" HBomb squeals. "So I let him know we're trying to hunt Technoblade down!" 

"Fuck this, fuck you, you motherfucking imbecile, you complete and utter moron, why the fUCK WOULD YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THIS??" Schlatt roars. 

HBomb cowers, hiding ineffectively behind his broom. "I- I'm sorry, sir, but I thought-"

"Well, there's the fucking problem, yeah, bitch?? You thought. I do the thinking here." Schlatt reaches for his gun. "You want to know what I'm thinking, HBomb? Do you want to know what I'm thinking of, right fucking now??" 

"Pl-please-" HBomb whimpers, staring into the barrel as it aims between his eyes. 

"I'm thinking you're fucking useless to me, HBomb. And you know what happens to useless whiny bitches like you, right?" 

"Please don't kill me!" HBomb sobs. 

"Ahh, whatever." Schlatt lowers the gun, too furious to admit he can't bring himself to actually pull the trigger and become a murderer. "Leave my sight and don't fucking show your ugly mug for a week." 

HBomb scurries away, leaving Schlatt to bind his bloody hand, alone in the sterile laboratory. 

++++

Getting beaten up would have been bearable. Being bullied mercilessly would have been completely deserved. But being completely and utterly ignored for days on end breaks Eret like a goddamn crusher.

The more he thinks back on her actions, the guiltier she feels. During the sparring classes, they copy Philza's moves alone, behind everyone else working with partners. When the class decides to camp in the forest for the rest of summer vacation, Eret sets up his tent several meters away from the rest. She stands back and watches their former friends banter and laugh as they raise their own tents. 

"Hey."

Eret almost jumps at the low voice of Ranboo addressing her. Turning, he faces the mutant, clenching her hands to hide the trembling. "Yeah?" 

Ranboo steps up next to them, gazing into the smoking campfire amidst the scattered tents. "Why are you scared of me?" 

"You- you already know why." Eret stares at his hands. Out, out, damned spot.

"Um. I don't really remember, but yeah, okay." Ranboo sighs. "I- I don't think I'm sorry." 

"Neither am I, apparently." Bitterly laughing, Eret grips her chest as the sharp pain of grief blossoms. 

"I think you are." 

"What do you know??" Eret lashes out, shoving Ranboo. "If everything had gone according to plan, it would all be fine!" 

"But you still wouldn't have any friends." Ranboo replies calmly. 

It hurts that he's right. Eret knows he's right. They turn away, hunched and close to tears. "Why am I scared of you?" She mutters in a low, desperate voice. "Because I know. I saw what you are. I know you- you killed Purpled." 

Ranboo frowns. "Techno killed him." He says it so casually. Techno. As though the bastard wasn't a mass-murderer and terrorist, bestowing violence in the name of anarchy and blood. "What do you think I am?" 

"A monster." Eret snaps, rounding on Ranboo, who backpedals with surprised fear in his eyes. "You're a monster. You might not remember. Your friends might pretend to forget. But I know." 

Ranboo gathers his composure and stands his ground, forcing Eret back a step. "If I'm a monster, and I protected my friends... what does that make you?" He turns on his heel and storms away into the trees. 

Shattered and lost, Eret can only watch him disappear. 

++++

Karl slips a briefcase under the table to his contact, who takes it and gives it a little shake. His contact then slides a folder over the table. Karl snatches it and stuffs it in his backpack. The two remain in silence for a moment longer. Karl leaves first. 

Once out of the main school's cafe, he runs all the way through the woods to the Ducklings' treehouse. Echoing footsteps crack twigs behind him as he reaches the gang's base. 

"Hey, what's that?" Fundy doesn't even bother trying to hide anymore as Karl climbs into the treehouse. 

Karl pulls the ladder up. "None of your business." 

"C'mon, we're in the same class!" 

"You're not a Duckling." 

"I can help!! Pleassse?" Fundy begs. 

"Who the fuck is bugging you, Karl??" Quackity sticks his head out the window. "Fundy?? Get the hell outta here." 

"That was HBomb you were talking to!" Fundy cries desperately. Karl groans and hides his face in his hoodie. "I know that guy! I used to work for him!" 

"Where?" Quackity asks. 

"Some laboratory in the capital!" Fundy cries. "I was shadowing him for a potential internship!" 

"Let the ladder down." Quackity orders. Karl sighs as he obeys. 

"Fine, but I don't trust you." 

"You don't have to." Fundy gives a smug smile as he leaps up the ladder. 

Karl enters the treehouse and sets the blueprints down on the table. Sapnap and Foolish stop painting Connor's hair and gather around with Quackity and Fundy. 

The laboratory blueprints spread across the table, promising revenge. Karl looks up and sees the hungry fire in Quackity's eyes. He looks to the side and meets the molten steel in Sapnap's gaze. 

Quackity draws his dagger and sets the point on the blueprints. "Whoever the fuck's been experimenting on people, let's fucking find them and end their pathetic lives." 

++++

Technoblade slashes the saplings with a rapier, taking out his frustrated fury on the innocent young trees, ignoring the twinges of pain. He shouldn't be this weak. 

Even before Schlatt started experimenting on him, he was stronger than this. He was powerful. The best fighter, the best tactician, the best at strategy. Now his body is frail and hurts merely to move. 

He tries to snarl, but his breath catches in his throat, fear slithering roots into his chest. Irrational. He's being irrational. Technoblade isn't afraid of anything. 

Except perhaps the pale blue of scrubs, the glint of scalpels, the searing agony- No! Technoblade scowls and tries to shove the flashes of terror and hunger and bitter, helpless rage away. 

Philza approaches him with a cup of tea. Technoblade flinches away, unable to look at the man he failed, the friend he abandoned. "Techno?" Philza sets the tea down on a fallen tree and presses a hand to Technoblade's shoulder. 

"Who am I, Phil?" Technoblade begs. Weak. The old Technoblade would never beg, would never cry. 

"You're my friend." Philza answers. 

"Why aren't I dead?" 

"The kids agreed to keep it a secret and wait until the year is up." 

"Phil. It's not going to last forever, Phil, you need to kill me soon. I can feel the damn resonancy in my chest. I don't know how long you have, but you need to kill me before I destroy the world." 

"Techno." Philza's voice shakes. "No. Techno, we'll find something."

"Find what?? It hurts, Phil. It hurts to move, it hurts to talk... I've killed so many people, Phil, I deserve this, I deserve to die! Kill me, please. The kids are too innocent. They don't need to be turned into murderers like me." He thinks of Quackity, the blazing fire. He thinks of Ranboo, the gentle nightmare. Of Tommy, the merciless sunshine. Each and every student. They deserve better. 

"Technoblade." Philza grips Techno's chin and brushes back his hair. "I deserve death as much as you. But I'm going to keep living. There's still people we need to kill, Techno, there's still governments to dismantle! We can't end now! We'll find a cure. A real cure. I promise." 

"I don't want you to die." 

"Ditto, mate." Philza embraces Techno gently. Techno wraps his arms around his friend, afraid to let go.

[moonraccoon-exe]

Hello! I was going through your supportive Regis to Iggy stuff and I’M MELTING!! I love it so much! Do you have anymore Regis-Ignis stuff or even other characters who support gladnis? I really wanna know!

*SMACKS WITH LOVE*

HELLO MUFFIN U THOUGHT I HAD FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU? HAH. U ABSOLUTE FOOL. I AM HERE TO SERRRRRRRRRVE 

I’m very excited to answer this because even though I still have 60+ asks (WAY over a year old now, god damn it), it made me so happy to get a new one with such old vibe? Idk how to explain it, it just felt like the first times I’d get asks anD IT MADE ME SO HAPPY OMG THANK YOU ;w;

But not gonna make the intro too long, you here for the nice stuff, so here we go!

The supportive Regis to Iggy stuff is old, some of my first, AND I FREAKING LOVE IT. Here you have supportive Regis being a good papa, and supportive Regis multiple headcanons if you missed it/don’t remember! :3

NOW LET’S SEE WHAT WE CAN GET FROM THIS

AU where Regis is Ignis’ supportive dad figure:

Quick summary following the previous posts’ canon: Iggy’s parents love him but aren’t very good parents. He’s just Noct’s adviser and a kingdom’s servant for them, and don’t care about Iggy’s relationships, not even his romantic one, so they never make any space to talk about it or interact or even care. Not kingdom issues? Then I don’t have time, sweetie, focus on your job and don’t make me waste my time.

So Regis has taken up on the role of Papa Regis for Ignis because a parent isn’t just feeding your child, WHERE IS THE GODDAMN SUPPORT, HE JUST WANTS TO TALK ABOUT THE TIME HE ACCIDENTALLY DROPPED HALF HIS ICE-CREAM ON SATURDAY’S DATE NIGHT, CAN YOU JUST. FUCKING LOVE HIM GODDAMMIT HOW HARD IS IT 

Regis always gets some time to listen to Iggy about Gladio. Even if it’s a few shared whispers while crossing the door to Council meeting, he’ll always ask. Ignis has gotten a grip of that, and they’ve managed to get away with it, be it a long conversation, or two sentences, all so long Iggy gets to express a bit of what he feels :’)

You know what Regis does most? He disguises lots of forms of support in formalities so that Ignis can get away with his things.

Like the one post shared above where Regis made up the lame excuse of “oh, uh, you: drive the Regalia to the Amicitia house and then you’re free lmao” (it’s sO CUTE OMG HOW DARE PAST-ME WRITE SOMETHING SO CUTE). 

Ignis’ parents and council in general are always overwhelming and overloading Ignis of so much work, it’s sometimes a real struggle to find the time to dedicate to his relationship. Gladio understands, but it’s still not fair for Iggy.

So Regis is going to do the Thing: POWER ABUSE. FOR THE BABY.

Not rly power abuse lmao but he’s the king, he has the ultimate word and orders, right? So if he wants Ignis to have some time to himself, HE’S GOING TO FUCKING HAVE IT. But, so that his parents don’t notice or don’t have an excuse to complain, Regis will disguise some Ignis Free Time as orders.

Ignis wants to write a love letter for Gladio, but is stashed to the very last pore of politics paperwork.

“Excuse me, lord, ladies, can you be so kind as to get this paperwork done? I require of this young lad’s presence to be my personal scribe for a very, very important speech. *Closes door* Yes, right, where do we start? The…importance of…the crown, symbol of the city, emblem of…you write your thing, Ignis, I’ll just babble things, ok? the light and…stuff and things and I’ll just start reciting the whole of Kupo Wars intro speech and no one will notice if I speak regal and kingly like this are you good? you need anything you tell me, alright? LONG AGO IN A FAR AWAY GALAXY-”

It’s a special date and Ignis wants to bake something for Gladio because GladiO LOVES EATING SO MUCH, YOUR MAJESTY, HE’S SO HAPPY WHEN HE EATS AND I WANT TO MAKE HIM HAPPY

“Yes, hello, it seems like Ignis won’t be able to attend this interview because I want to impress the Tenebrae diplomats and I need the best chef of Eos aiding me, come here on royal duty, Ignis.”

((after Ignis finished baking the cake and people expected Regis to try it he just went “AAAH, GOODNESS, I FORGOT I’M ALLERGIC TO CAKE, WHAT A DUMBASS I AM, WELP, WE DON’T WANT IT TO GO TO WASTE SO WHY DON’T YOU TAKE IT TO SOMEONE ELSE YOU KNOW WILL LOVE IT, IGNIS? ( ´ ▽ ` )))

((regis how is anyone allergic to cake as a whole lmao))

Ignis is just sad because he wants to spend a bit of time with Gladio.

“HELLO IGNIS, GUESS WHICH ABSOLUTELY IDIOTIC KING RIPPED HIS CLOTHES, WHAT A MYSTERY, HOW DID THIS HAPPEN, I THINK YOU’LL HAVE TO GO BUY ME A NEW SUIT BUT DON’T YOU DARE GO ALONE, YOU’RE A FAMOUS FACE OF THE ROYAL WORLD, YOU OBVIOUSLY NEED A GUARD, AM I RITE, WHO IS AVAILABLE RIGHT NOW-”

“well, Cor is-”

“GLADIOLUS, DEAR, WHAT A COINCIDENCE, I HAVE A JOB FOR YOU RIGHT NOW, BOY.”

Soft and gentle and loving as he is, Regis can also be shady af with people that deserve it.

Scientia father is talking about some stupid thing and he mentions his son.

Regis is giving him the most deeply confused frown of the world, and ultra genuinely asks “You have a son???????”

He does this. EVERY. TIME. Scientia parents talk about Ignis LMAO, EVERY FUCKING TIME

(just wants to make it clear he doesn’t see them as parents to Ignis but that’s just his opinion, right, what does it matter, fuck him)

Regis isn’t only a supportive dad for Iggy when it comes to Gladnis. He’s also a supportive papa in general.

Kiddo Ignis can’t. STOP STARING. At the aerial rope acts and acrobatics on TV. THEY ARE JUST. SO FUCKING ARTISTIC. SO ELEGANT. SO BEAUTIFUL. KIDDO IGNIS LOVES THE ACROBATS HELOVESTHEMSOMU- ok Iggy TV time is over, you have to go make your ridiculously advanced homework that sucks the childhood out of you ok baby boy?

40 year old Regis Papa Sense tingles. 

40 y.o. Regis is taking Ignis from his parents at a hallway while they were leading him to his first Crownsguard training lesson “Yes, I take it from here, I want to give him a little encouraging speech, you know how this can be a little disheartening from how hard it is? Haha yeah, children these days am I rite”

Ignis walks into the training hall expecting Cor or Clarus or some Crownsguard with a pole ready to fucking SMACK HIM.

Ignis walks into the training hall being received by Insomnia’s fifth best circus arts coreographer. 

“Hello, you must be Ignis. The king said you’re very excited about aerial ropes and acrobatics? That’s so cool. Are you excited to be learning it yourself, now?”

Little twelve years old Ignis is GASP .A. *looks up at Regis like ¿¿¿¡¡¡¡???!!!*

“It’s OBVIOUSLY just to have an expert acrobat fighter, the only one of your kind, flexible, agile fighter that can jump, am I rite, enemies won’t expect that. So this is NOT arts class, it’s…OBVIOUSLY your Crownsguard training as we told your parents. OBVIOUSLY. Right, boy? Now, we don’t want to spoil the surprise. No telling mom and dad, ok? You tell them it’s Cor teaching you to punch things. Have fun. I mean. TRAIN HARD, HUFFFFFFFF”

IGNIS WAS HYSTERICALLY HAPPY YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE SO MUCH JOY FITS IN THAT CHILD

Nineteen year old Ignis figured out his first real strategy at war table and it was an utter success.

Papa be like, not even looking away of his papers, “It’s your responsibility.”

REAL PAPA Regis rushed to hug him, grinning, and goes “Wow, Ignis, that’s fantastic!! Congratulations!! You worked very hard on it, and you helped save so many lives. Imagine all the families that will reunite thanks to you. You, fantastic boy, you’re so young and so skilled already, I’m so proud of you.”

Ignis had a literal nervous breadown out of stress overload.

Mama be like “take these pills, rest five minutes, now go back to your office, you can’t stay behind, you have all these paperworks DUE TOMORROW, YOU CAN’T JUST CALL IN SICK??? LIKE IT’S AN EXCUSE¿¿¿”

Ignis arrived to his office to find two sofas placed there together like a bed, comfy, cozy, with a blankie and cushions, and a therapist waiting at the desk.

“Hello. You must be Ignis. The king scheduled an appointment for you today. He also said you don’t need to worry about the paperwork, and said, I quote *reads paper* “…fuck paperwork”. Oh my. Anyway, come here, please lie down and let’s see what we can do for you, ok, sweetie?”

Seventeen year old Ignis is NERVOUS about his first date with Gladio. Like. HIS CRUSH. ASKED HIM OUT?? HIS CRUSH. NOT ANYONE, HIS ACTUAL CRUSH SINCE HE WAS TEN??????? THE GUY HE HAD BEEN PINING OVER FOR YEARS. THE GUY THAT HE FELT SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WAY OUT OF HIS LEAGUE. HE. ASKED. HIM. OUT. WTF, HOW CAN IGNIS NOT BE NERVOUS, HE’S BEEN CRUSHING ON HIM SINCE EVEN BEFORE HE KNEW WHAT A CRUSH WAS

Papa be like “But?? I thought you were staying in today for training????? What about the prince’s interviews you have to cover for the day after tomorrow?? The paperwork for monday?? Your HOMEWORK¿¿ Ignis, you’re way better than this, leave the teenage drama alone. Free time? That you’re a teen and just want to go out and I just think about work??? Yes, no, I understand that, of COURSE I do, I just…nervous? IT’S JUST A DATE IGNIS OHMYGOD, don’t be so immature, just wear anything, go to your date, and be back as soon as possible, I won’t tolerate you being out after eight.”

Papa Regis is stopping a deep breathing absent-looking Ignis in the middle of the hallway to ask if he’s fine. It took like fifteen minutes of an embarrassed Ignis melting and becoming a puddle of shyness making excuses before he spilled the truth, blushing in embarrassment, whispering, feeling absolutely fucking stupid and like a dork.

“…I just…don’t know…what to wear…”

Regis be (・_・ )

An hour later locked away in Ignis’ office after having had an ACTUAL KINGSGLAIVE FUCKING SNEAK INTO IGNIS’ HOUSE AND BRING ALL HIS CLOTHES IN A HURRY (under royal command lmao), Regis is adjusting Ignis’ hair and glasses over and over, stepping back, staring with a >:| look, then going back in, re-arrange, step back, stare like >:|, step in to re-arrange, and so over and over, all while both discuss over it like it’s a death or life issue.

Regis becomes expert fashion critique

“HOW. Are you going to put those shoes on with THAT shirt.”

“YOU’RE RIGHT, I JUST. I’M SO NERVOUS.”

But being serious, Regis made sure to spend so very long in there with Ignis not because he didn’t know what to have him wear; that was the excuse to spend a while with Ignis to help him calm down. Boy was absolutely GONE, he needed to put his feet back on earth before his date or he was going to combust lmao

AND IT WORKED

Ignis’ shift is over and he goes “I wasted my last hour doing NOTHING ;A;”

“HOW DARE YOU SAY IT’S NOTHING WHEN WE USED IT SO WELL TO GET YOU READY”

Ignis is more honored by having had the king help him pick his clothes than working so it doesn’t feel as bad. Plus, Regis knows his way through the mess of his head to make him not feel guilty

Before going out of the office, Regis is taking his time to smile a lot and stare at Ignis, before he drops the whole king attitude or fashion expert and goes with this tender, warm, and genuinely happy voice “So he finally asked you out.”

Ignis absolutely changes then. He just…glOWS HAPPY AND LOVING. And of course he starts sharing the whole thing with Regis, from asking out to how long he had been liking him to how he feels about it and stuff. Regis listens patiently, and then he gets up from his place and goes to grab Ignis’ face and helps a bit with his hair, and he can’t help but stare and stare with these…these IMMENSELY WARM EYES AND THIS HUGE SWEET, TENDER SMILE

“I’m so happy for you two. You two have always looked good together, and I think you’re meant to be. You’ll be fine, son.”

Ignis may have teared up a little and looked down. He feels…sO ENCOURAGED, SO SUPPORTED, HE FEELS LIKE SOMEONE CARES, IT’S SO NICE AKLSDJFDG

of fucking COURSE it was the best first date EVER

Ignis sometimes wants to get Gladio presents, but he doesn’t know where to put them (as in, if he gets Gladio a gift, it may be a few days earlier, so where does he store it during those few days?). No way to put them in his room because his parents check his room (never looking for anything in particular but it’s to ‘’keep him in check’’ or some bullshit), and they have key to his office too. 

Regis motherfucking Lucis Caelum is going to store that unicorn plushie in armiger and you better not question him.

You know how Regis and Noctis have royal portraits taken each certain years?

Yes, there is an official royal photograph or Regis with a twenty year old Ignis because what the fuck do you mean it’s just for the Lucis Caelum last name he’s my son regardless of last names fuck you give me that stupid camera

Of course it didn’t count to the ‘official’ archives of the heir and monarch portraits but goddammit is Regis going to make sure it’s hung somewhere in the fucking Citadel.

You thought Regis was just taking the role at times? HELL NO, HE’S GOING FULL PAPA BEAR MODE, HE LOVES IGGY AS MUCH AS HE LOVES NOCT, OF COURSE HE’S GOING THIS FAR

He keeps making that little adorable slip of thinking of Noct and Iggy as literal brothers because he’s just so into supporting Ignis he keeps forgetting he’s not his son neither legally or genetically.

“You can’t just get rid of your brother-in-law, that’s ridiculous.”

“…who?”

“Gladi- ooh, yes, lmao, I forgot. I meant Gladio”

“DO NOT TALK LIKE THAT TO YOUR BROTHER.”

“But I don’t have a brother.”

“right”

“You should follow Ignis’ example, that’s what big brothers are for.”

“Dad you’re doing it again.”

“Hello, Ignis? I wanted to talk to your brother. Ah, fuck, I meant, Noctis.”

Regis gets really moody every time Scientia parents are around. He knows they’re not necessarily evil, but that doesn’t mean they’re not abusive. He’s been reflecting long about it and he sees them as abusive even if incidentally so of course he gets moody. HOW DARE THEY MISTREAT MY CHILD LIKE THAT.

Regis had Clarus review a literal petition to change Insomnia’s adult age from 21 to 19 so Ignis could move the fuck out of his house sooner.

council said no those pieces of shIT

Regis insisted

“Your Majesty, we can’t just change that law so easily and fast, and think of-”

DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY CHILDREN WANT TO GET OUT OF THEIR GODDAMN HOUSE TO ESCAPE AN ABUSIVE ENVIRONMENT BUT FUCKING CAN’T BECAUSE THEY’RE “TOO YOUNG”

Regis mopped about it for a month

When Noct moved to his flat near school, Regis did it so he could grow a bit of independency…and to give Ignis the spare key.

“My son may need some watch every now and then. Leave the house duties to him, that’s fine, son, just…uh…keep an eye on him some nights. Any night you want. I happened to find only a flat with two separate rooms haha what a coINCIDENCE AIN’T IT so it’s fine if you want to spend the night with Noct :)”

He was basically gifting Ignis his own shared apartment WHAT THE HECK YOUR MAJESTY YOU’RE GIVING ME A WHOLE ASS APARTMENT?????? OMG NO STOP

((Ignis used that apartment very frequently the poor bby ;A;))

When Noct graduates and goes back to living at the Citadel, Ignis at first is sort of upset of having to go back to his house every day. He normally can’t get to spend the nights at Gladio’s or anyone else’s because his parents thing it’s inappropriate. But Ignis just looks…so upset. He doesn’t say anything, and he keeps talking about being happy of Noct’s growth and independency and graduation and his grades and him getting to be back with his dad and stuff, but when he’s alone he looks so upset. He looks like he’s sleeping less, and worse than before; he looks like…like carrying a heavier weight, that kept growing and growing. He looked less healthy, less happy, less bright.

And as soon as he notices, there we have him, king motherfucking Regis signing the official return of the prince’s gentlemen job, and signing Ignis in the goddamn title without even asking him first. 

Regis’ excuse is that Ignis is his first assistant, personal adviser, closest companion, so it only makes sense to have Ignis attend him personally at any time the prince so needs it, SO YOU BETTER NOT HAVE ANY EXCUSES YOU PIECES OF SHIT TO LET YOUR SON LIVE IN THE ROOM NEXT TO NOCT’S, OKAY, FUCK YOU.

It was a smart move because Scientia parents were delighted with the promotion and progress, yes yes, we told you working this hard would get you really far, son, of course it was due to the pressure we put on you that you get to be the prince’s personal assistant to a new level.

Regis really just wanted Ignis to get out of that goddamn place for most nights.

And not like Noctis asks for anything. Wakes up WAY later than Ignis, cleans his own room as best as he can (he’s trying, ok? LEAVE HIM ALONE), and it’s not like it’s the 1st century to be asking Ignis to dress him or anything, ew, get away of my room, you dork, this is my stuff!!

IGNIS HAS NEVER SLEPT SO GODDAMN WEL IN HIS GODDAMN LIFE, and it’s not like his parents don’t let him sleep or anything, it’s just…the air. It’s different. The environment is WAY comfier and more cozy, HE LOVES SLEEPING THERE.

Regis is also there when Iggy is having bad times.

As much as he’s eventually learned that his parents just Don’t Care, it’s not like it’s an easy thing to digest, you know? Because they’re this horrible mix between genuinely loving and still abusive and toxic. They want the best for him, but they’ve broken him to the point of literal physical breakdowns. They love him, but don’t know his favorite meal or color. They want him to go far but forget he’s a human, and just see his grades and work, and don’t know how he has fun and have never once listened to him about his YEARS LONG RELATIONSHIP WITH A MAN HE GENUINELY LOVES AND WHO HE HAS LIVED WITH THE MOST ADVENTURES. Ignis is often very troubled about his parents, because as much distance as he’s put in between and as much as he doesn’t acknowledge them as his parents because of all the bad they’ve done to him and how absent they’ve been, he just can’t help but…still be hurt about it, you know? 

So even though he has Regis’ full awesome support, and Clarus’, and other parental figures, it’s just not the people he grew up with all his life calling “parents”. They may be abusive and absent but goddammit, the child in him used to think they were his parents, and good ones. It’s not like he can just not care.

So it’s not rare that Ignis gets emotional over it, or has cried a few times, especially when he has something significative going on in his life and his parents just aren’t there, even when he reaches out to them and they’re just “too busy”.

SO ONE DAY

Nothing particular had happened. It was the constant storing of that kinda events, thoughts and feelings that kept building up until they were too many and made Ignis sort of break. 

His parents just wouldn’t speak about his relationship with Gladio. The most they have gotten to was telling him to not be explicit about it to save scandals about someone as important as an Amicitia, to always be perfectly sharp and as best looking as he could because an Amicitia just couldn’t be seen with someone less than Perfect, and would often tell him to not get hopes too high because Gladiolus looked like a man to constantly switch partners so you better be careful. But they never cared about knowing him, having him for dinner, talking about their dates, not even how or WHEN it started, they didn’t even know how long it had been going on, or the places they’ve been or the things they’d done together, NOTHING.

Ignis is so very often at the Amicitias’; has dinner, sleeps over when he can, has gone out with Iris alone SO MANY times, has been with Clarus alone SO MANY TIMES, has LITERALLY GONE ON VACATIONS WITH THEM, and his parents can’t even shake Gladio’s hand even when they all work in the same goddamn place? Were they for real?

Ignis once tried talking with them about the possibility of marriage. He had been with Gladio for a good couple years, and he was sure about it, and had even spoken a bit with Gladio about it, and it seemed like a bright plan. 

It took Ignis MONTHS. Literal months of mental preparation. He wrote the little speech and corrected it over and over and over and over for weeks to know what to tell his parents and how. He practiced in his head, with the mirror, with Noctis, he rehearsed aloud to an empty room. He had his routine of breathing before it to get ready, during it to not lose it, he had been gathering courage for all those MONTHS

“I’m sorry, Ignis, I know it’s important but I have to hand these papers in three days from now. Could you tell me some other day?”

He didn’t even get to the first word of his speech because he wasn’t even given the chance.

He dropped the bomb in the first sentence he said, on purpose, so his parents would know how big of a thing it was and wouldn’t discard it; “I’ve spoken with Gladiolus about marriage.” And he got this. I’m busy. Paperwork. Good that you’re marrying but can you please not interrupt me?

Ignis didn’t even get angry. He just stood there, in front of his parents, staring a little with a blank face. He still waited a bit, and his mom did look up from her papers as if asking if he needed anything. Willing to listen, and Ignis knew and saw it. 

But decided it wasn’t worth it, and he just turned around and left. 

He didn’t feel bad that night, or the next, and he worked just fine during the week…but he kept…to say it some way, withering.

 Like back when he had to go back to sleeping at his parents’ every night, Ignis started slowly looking restless and upset with each day. With the heavy air and shoulders, the tired look, and that exhausted aura that felt like he struggled at getting out of bed every day. 

And of course, Regis noticed. 

One day, he visited Ignis to see what was going on. He had Ignis sit on a chair and he sat across him, and had him talk about it. By that point Ignis has grown so much personal trust with Regis that he doesn’t struggle anymore at opening up with him. 

Ignis spoke long, much longer than he knew he had to speak, about all the things his parents don’t do and do, and went on and on, and it was past the shift end hour, it got dark and late and they didn’t even bother turning the lights on and just kept going. 

And then Ignis got to the point where one sentence alone had him break.

“I don’t understand, I’m their son, and they love me, so why don’t they care?”

Ignis stopped there because, as he said that last bit, he started crying. Fast, out of nowhere, not even noticing, he just…broke down right there. At first he stayed still while crying, as if only after saying it aloud had he noticed the weight it held. 

Little by little he started putting the head down, until he seemed to finally understand what he said, and so he started properly crying. Ignis tried cleaning his eyes, took his glasses off, and sobbed and cried.

It wasn’t long before Regis had stood from his chair and had reached for him. Got close, and took Ignis in a hug.

Ignis didn’t even care if this was the king or someone else’s dad. He didn’t. He just buried his face in his hands, and his hands and face in Regis’ chest, and started sobbing. 

Regis hugged him and kept him to his chest for as long as he needed. He pet his hair, rubbed his back, squeezed his arms, and didn’t let go while letting Iggy cry all that he wanted to sob out.

After a bit, Ignis tried cleaning his nose and eyes, and let go of his face to hug Regis back. It was a bit timid, and a little weak, but he held to Regis’ jacket like a scared, upset kid, and shyly sniffled while calming down. 

“Why don’t they care?” he whispered again mid-tears, genuinely lost…but not alone.

Later, when Ignis let go and Regis sat next to him, Ignis apologized because he “should” be grateful for what he has, and he has Regis and that’s way better than any parent he could have asked for and way better than the bad his real parents have done to him, and, surprisingly, Regis didn’t agree this time.

“It’s not something that can be replaced. A joy in your life doesn’t nulify the bad. When it hurts, it hurts. I can be your dad all that we want, but it won’t take away the hurt you feel for the real one. And that’s ok. You are grateful for what you have, but it’s also ok to be hurting on this. I would be hurting, too.”

someone give this man a prize already please

A week later Clarus walked into a very upset Regis giving a paper his Tantrum Frown.

“Regis?”

“Clarus how do I adopt an adult that has legal living parents?”

Regis, no.

REGIS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING YES.

Now Regis doesn’t ask the Scientia “you have a son?” whenever they mention Ignis, he just goes “Ah, you know his name?”

savage

One day, a 24 year old Iggy went to Regis’ chambers during a sunday hence day off. Regis was ? :3

Ignis asked Regis if he would please help him choose the engagement ring he was going to get for Gladio.

Regis was out of the room screaming and swinging the Regalia’s keys before Ignis had finished the sentence.

SHOPPING TIME

There we have him a PROUD PAPA going with his BEAUTIFUL SON to get an engagement ring because BOY IS GONNA ASK HIS BF FOR MARRIAGE AND JESUS CHRIST IS THIS EXCITING

Honestly I’m saving how excited Regis was because it’s just too much excitement to be described lmao 

Just imagine him screeching the whole way to the mall

and the dy after

and all over the week

Regis was so excited he slightly fainted at least twice across the week lmao thank the gods a chuckling Clarus was there to help but anyway back to RING SHOPPING

Just like that time Regis was his FASHION EXPERT on the first date Iggy had with Gladio, Regis is now becoming RING EXPERT for him

“HOW. Are you going to wear that ring with those SHOES”

“why are the shoes always the problem”

They didn’t spend as long in the store as they did with the clothes that once, but they did spend a good while looking at the prettiest rings and comparing and thinking about what Gladio would personally like, and etc etc. 

Basically Regis helping Iggy pick the engagement ring plEASE I BEG FOR THIS SCENARIO AKSLJDFDG *cries*

When Ignis got decided for one, he was just pulling out his credit card when RegIS. FUCKING. SLAMMED HIS DEBIT CARD ON THE COUNTER.

I PAY FOR THIS ONE.

omg but king Regis I’ve been saving up for a whole yea-

IT GOES ON MY BEHALF GOD FUCKING DAMMIT THIS IS MORE A GIFT TO ME THAN IT IS TO EITHER OF YOU SHUT UP

Regis = Gladnis shipper #1

Fun side story, an hour after Ignis and Regis left, CLARUS AND GLADIO ARRIVED. TO THE SAME STORE. LOOKING FOR THE EXACT SAME RING THAT IGNIS JUST BOUGHT. BECAUSE GLADIO HAD HAD IT IN HIS WATCH FOR OVER A MONTH NOW, BUT HE FREAKING…DIDN’T RESERVE IT, HE’S AN IDIOT, SOME STUPID ASSHOLE BOUGHT IT BEFORE HIM, IT WAS THE PERFECT RING, P E R F E C T, THERE WAS NO RING BETTER ON THIS PLANET OR THIS UNIVERSE THAT COULD COMPARE, AND WHAT WERE THE ODDS HE COULD FIND THE BUYER TO BUY IT BACK!?? WHAT WERE THE GODDAMN ODDS FUCKTHISSHIT GLADIO WAS SO A N G R Y.

fun side story #2 can we have Gladnis proposing to each other the same day because that’s disgustingly freaking adorable and I die with cuteness overload at the thought thank you. Like u know, those cute videos, I think there are two where partner 1 proposes to partner 2, and partner 2 just LAUGHS and partner 1 is ;A; ??? and partner 2 suddenly pulls out a little box too and it makes sense and the two just freaking lose it. Yes, Gladnis vibes, thank you

Let’s make it an Eos tradition that the father or parent or parental figure of the groom (or bride or person in suit) gets them the tie and only show them on the wedding day and they put it on their kid. (that’s actually a nice tradition, nice thinking Brain, I’ll steal this from myself later)

On the wedding day, in a room, Clarus is tying Gladio’s tie.

In the other, Ignis is tying his own. 

He did tell dad, but didn’t tell him about the tradition and dad assumed it wasn’t happening. It was fine, Ignis kept it a secret because he didn’t want his dad to do it, and he was fine getting his own tie. 

(Scientia parents are present, just Ignis asked them to be sat and away, he was fine on his own, and because Scientia parents don’t care they were just like okie)

And of course, there was then a knock at the door.

“Ignis?”

“…ki…KING REGIS!?”

Regis is smiling and going in and closing the door. Ignis stands up and he seemed to have been about to run towards him, but he freezes in his spot, and suddenly stands there like a lost shy kid, and his eyes immediately water. They say nothing for a while and just stare at each other, until Ignis, at the edge of crying, just whispers in a broken voice “You came.”

“Of course I did. What sort of horrible thing would I be if I missed your wedding? I’m sorry I’m late, I just didn’t know in which room you were. You should’ve told me!”

It takes a while as Ignis controls his tears and feelings and gets over the shyness before he says it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d come and I didn’t want to pressure you by asking for this…extra thing, just consumes time, and I could do it alone, it was fine, really…”

“An extra thing?” 

Regis starts limping his way towards him. Then, when he gets to Ignis, he pulls out a little large box. Ignis finally starts crying when Regis opens it and there’s a tie inside.

While Iggy cries a bit, Regis undoes his tie, throws it away, and gently and very softly starts tying the new one. He does his best and prettiest tie, and pats it.

“It’s no extra thing. It’s my responsibility.”

Ignis immediately went in for a tight hug, crying into Regis’ shoulder.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t ask you for this, I’m so sorry…I…know you’re genuinely busy, and that’s ok, you run the biggest country of the world and a whole magic core alone, I know it’s genuine and I’ve never been upset for that, I just…know you’re genuinely busy…”

Regis returned the hug as lovingly and tight as only a father does, and kissed his head.

“Yes, a king is always busy. But never for my son.”

And that’s how Ignis was walked down the aisle by REGIS FUCKING LUCIS CAELUM CXIII OF HIS NAME THE MAN HIMSELF.

*cries*

HOW DARE YOU ASK ME FOR SUPPORTIVE REGIS, ANON, NOW I’M A MESS OF FEELINGS AND A CHAOS OF EMOTIONS ASKDJFKG GODS BLESS THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I’m an absolute disaster for supportive papa Regis. U see supportive Regis u show me, ok? OK? THANK YOU ;____;

But anyways, dear anon, HERE YOU GO WITH THIS BEAUTIFUL, WONDERFUL ASK THAT WAS SUCH A DELIGHT TO RECEIVE, AND SUCH A WONDER TO ANSWER. ( ˙꒳​˙ )

I hope you enjoyed these at least half as I did!

Thank you, and have a WONDAHFUL day! 

[sunkissedpages]

We’re Only Kidding Ourselve- Part Nineteen

A/N: ayyye nineteen parts, I’m nineteen years old.... noice :)

Prompt: Enemies to lovers au (from @marvelellie‘s 1k writing challenge!!)

Summary: You work as a production assistant for the Spider-Man: Far From Home crew, or rather as Tom Holland’s handler. The two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of previous smut, anxiety

What I listened to while writing: Phantom of the Opera lol I was a theater kid

Word Count: 3.1k

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine| Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen

Tom’s eyes searched the crowd once more, looking for someone through the masses of people until he finally met your gaze. You stared straight at him with murder in your eyes and watched in disbelief as he winked at you.

You felt your jaw drop open in shock as you held his gaze. There was a look in his eye that said checkmate and you were this close to shoving your way through the crowd and socking him in the jaw. Give him another mark on that pretty face to worry about. You might have done it too, if you weren’t preoccupied with the concern that you might pass out.

There were several times in your life you had wished you were invisible. This was not one of those times, no. You wished you were never born. You wished you didn’t fucking exist and never had.

Whatever small sliver of hope you’d had that Harry and Harrison hadn’t seen the wink was fleeting as you watched their eyes trace Tom’s line of sight over to you in confusion.

You flicked your eyes back to where Tom was still signing autographs with a smirk, brushing off questions about what had happened to his face nonchalantly. You were so fucked. If you ever got your hands on Tom you were going to strangle him.

Harry and Haz were still standing in front of you, arms crossed, waiting for an explanation that you couldn’t provide. Harrison looked utterly confused, and a little angry, but Harry was hard to read. His expression was guarded. He knew.

“Do you, uh,  know something we don’t?” Harrison prompted, peering at you beneath the hood of your sweatshirt.

“Um-”

You were saved from answering when one of your bosses approached you and cut in on your conversation. “Y/l/n, we need to get Holland through security now.”

“Okay, I’m on it. Thanks.” You breathed a sigh of relief as you signaled to the security guys to get Tom to wrap it up. You had never been so happy to do your job.

Security quickly ushered Tom through the rest of the crowd, not giving him enough time to stop to greet anymore fans. He waved, though, and apologized to the people he passed. If you weren’t currently seething, you might have found his genuity endearing. If only you could get the same courtesy he gave strangers.

Once he reached the end of the barriers he finally threw his hood back up over his head and you rolled your eyes as you broke into a jog to catch his heel. His security detail was moving at a pace that was hard to keep up with, especially with all of your luggage. You didn’t have people for that like Tom did. The boys were better at following closely than you so from afar, it just looked like a big group of people walking through the airport, and then you chasing after them like a crazy person.

With such a large group, it was hard not to attract attention. Heads turned as Tom passed, surrounded by men with earpieces and bulletproof vests. People craned their necks to try and see who the security detail was assigned to, but now that Tom had his hood up it was hard for them to tell. How convenient.

You fell behind even more when you tripped over an untied shoelace that you had ironically ignored for the sake of time, falling hard on the tile and spilling everything you’d been holding in your arms. The crowd parted around you on the floor, but no passerbys stopped to help you up. You were mostly thankful for that since you were so embarrassed. Your cheeks burned as you scrambled on the floor to gather everything back up, stopping when you ran into a familiar pair of shoes in front of you.

You looked up to see Harrison smiling softly above you. “Typical,” he said and offered you a hand. You took it and lept to your feet as he yanked you up with more force than you were expecting. You crashed into him, nearly knocking him backwards, but he had better balance than you and steadied you against him.

“Hey, are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, trying not to cry. You weren’t hurt, just completely overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. “Just fucking humiliated.”

“Don’t be, this is very on-brand for you,” he said, not being able to hide a smile. “No one really expects different.”

You rolled your eyes, but forced a smile in return. “Thanks for waiting up for me.”

“Of course. Couldn’t leave you behind. You’d get lost.”

“Very funny. Need I remind you I’m the one with the boarding tickets? You guys can’t leave without me.”

“Good point.”

Harrison helped you organize the rest of your stuff before you started off again in the direction the rest of the group had been going when you fell, at a slower pace this time.

“You sure you’re okay?” Harrison asked lowly as you shuffled through masses of people. “You’re walking kind of funny.”

Goddammit Tom.

“Cramp,” you lied and clutched your side to be more convincing.

“We can slow down more,” he offered. “And just catch up later.”

“No I can power through,” you assured him. “We’re already so far behind.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, but didn’t protest as you led the way to the terminal. One wrong tram ride and one correct tram ride later you finally ended up at the right gate where everyone else was already waiting for you.

“And where have you two been?” Harry asked with a grin when he saw you walk up together.

Hm maybe he didn’t know.

“I fell,” you explained, still a little out of breath from getting lost and speed walking all the way to the end of the terminal where the gate was.

Harry’s face fell. “Oh shit, are you okay?”

You nodded. “Only bruised my ego. Not that there’s much of that left.”

“And then we got lost,” Harrison added, equally out of breath.

“But we made it!” you exclaimed and high-fived him triumphantly. “With ten minutes to spare before we board!”

“Impressive,” Harry said sarcastically before pulling Haz aside to look at some pictures he’d edited while he’d been waiting.

You limped your way over to an empty seat in the waiting area across from Tom and sat down finally, figuring you’d relax for at least eight minutes before you had to worry about getting Tom and the boys onboard in one piece.

“What happened to you?” Tom asked, looking you up and down for sign of injury.

“I’m not talking to you right now.” you huffed and looked away from him, watching planes land on the runway outside instead.

“Really? Because of the wink?”

“Not because of the wink, because you pulled your hood down after I specifically told your to cover your neck and then you winked at me.”

“I thought you weren’t talking to me,” Tom quipped and you scowled.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” “I’ve been told once or twice.” He smirked devilishly, waiting for you to comment, but you didn’t. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the armrest of his seat, annoyed that you were actually giving him the silent treatment now. “You’re really not going to tell me where you and Harrison snuck off to just now?”

You looked back up at him and narrowed your eyes. Did the fact that you had disappeared and showed up again with Harrison...bother him?

“I fell,” you said simply. “Haz stayed behind to help me up and then we just got lost.”

You were telling the truth, but wondered if Tom believed you.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked, leaning forward to get a better look at you.

You looked away and leaned back. “Fine, no thanks to you.”

It was quiet for a moment before he sighed and ran a hand through his hair under the hood of his sweatshirt. “Y/n, I’m sorry-”

You cut him off. “Can we not do this now?”

He pursed his lips, but dropped the subject, going back to whatever he had been doing on his phone. You rolled your neck in annoyance before taking off your backpack and pulling out the boarding tickets for the four of you, making sure everything was in order.

You thrust Tom’s ticket into his hands. “You can keep track of it for the five minutes we have until we board, can’t you?”

He made a face. “Hilarious.”

“I’m serious.”

He rolled his eyes and shoved it in his pocket without further comment. The rest of the tickets were distributed without the attitude and everyone made it on the plane in one piece. The hardest part of your job for the day was done and now you could just relax... on the nine hour flight you were going to have to spend sitting next to Tom. You looked up at the seat number and back at your ticket just to confirm you were in the right spot. Why the fuck were you always seated next to Tom?

At least you had the aisle seat. Tom was turned toward the window and at this point it was unclear whether he was shielding himself from the other passengers or from you.

“Tom, can we be adults about this?” you asked desperately, not wanting to spend the whole flight ignoring each other.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.” Was the muffled response you got from the boy next to you who refused to turn around.

“Fine,” you said curtly and turned to Harry who was sitting next to you across the aisle. “Harry,” you whispered harshly, trying to get his attention, but he couldn’t hear you with his headphones on. “Harry!” you tried again and poked him this time.

He turned and yanked his headphones off with a bit of annoyance. “What?”

“Can we please switch seats?”

His eyes softened and he gave you a questioning look, but unbuckled his seatbelt without asking, to your relief. The two of you shuffled around awkwardly in the aisle so that you could switch seats before the plane took off, momentarily holding up the line of passengers waiting to find their seats.

Harrison looked up from his book and frowned, pushing up his glasses as you settled into the seat next to him. “Is Tom bothering you?”

“Not anymore than usual,” you said as you buckled the seatbelt around your waist. “Just didn’t want to spend nine hours next to him.”

“Can’t blame you.”

“Hey, that’s your best friend you’re talking about,” you whispered with a hint of grin.

His eyes crinkled behind his glasses as he smiled back at you. “Well I’m glad to have the company.”

“Likewise.”

You let him get back to his book and pulled your own out of your backpack, still dogeared on the page you’d fallen asleep on a few nights ago. You let yourself get lost in the pages, picking up where you’d left off with the characters as if they were old friends and no time had passed at all. You were so absorbed in reading that when you looked up again you realized boarding had ended and the flight attendants were preparing for takeoff.

The cabin doors had been shut and sealed, the safety video played, and the seatbelt sign turned on. The plane began to move and you were suddenly filled with anxiety at the thought of taking off.

The feeling confused you. You’d been traveling for months now, but for some reason you were more nervous about flying than you had been all the other times. Maybe because you were going back home, and you didn’t feel ready. The girl who’d left the states back in July wasn’t the same girl who was flying back now. And you’d always known it would be that way, but everything was different now. You were in the final stretch. After this was all over Tom and Harrison and Harry would fly back to England and you’d stay in America. You thought you’d feel more relieved.

You took a deep breath, balling your fists at your sides, willing your heart to slow.

“Are you okay?” Harrison asked, noticing how tense you were.

“Yeah, just nervous.”

He rested his open hand on the armrest between you. “Here, you can hold my hand if you want.” You looked up at him questioningly. “You don’t have to, it’s just a thing my mum used to do when me and my sister were little and got scared when the plane took off.”

You smiled thankfully and interlaced your fingers with his. His hands were warm and comforting, and he ran a thumb over the back of your hand soothingly, making you relax a little.  

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

You closed your eyes and squeezed his hand as the plane began to accelerate on the runway. He squeezed back, not easing up until you were off the ground and flying into the clouds. You opened your eyes again when you felt the plane straighten out and leaned over Harrison’s shoulder to look out the window with him. Through the thin wisps of clouds you could make out Italy’s fields and cities below you, feeling for first time, a twinge of sadness at leaving.

You held Haz’s hand well after the plane had ascended. They fit comfortably together and he quickly drifted off with his fingers entwined with yours, his hand relaxing slightly, but not quite letting go.

You couldn’t fall asleep. The anxiety still lingered in your chest and your mind was racing. Harrison’s hand in yours was a comfort, but the thoughts wouldn’t subside. They were insistent on tormenting you whenever you closed your eyes.

The plane was quiet aside from the hum of the engines. All around you passengers watched movies, read, dreamed, got lost in their own worlds, trying to leave reality on the ground below them.

Your head was in the clouds as well as you thought about last night. You couldn’t stop thinking about Tom’s hands on your body, in your hair. His lips on yours. The words he’d said to you. The ones you’d said to him. You knew it hadn’t just been sex, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it. Subconsciously, you stole a glance at Tom and made eye contact with him accidentally. He had been looking at you too.

All of the sudden your hand burned in Harrison’s and you were forced to let go. It felt wrong to think about Tom when your hand was in his and you didn’t know why.

At around three hours into the flight they served the complimentary meal. It was a simple pasta dish with a couple sides, nothing compared to the Italian food you’d gotten used to over the past few weeks. You hadn’t eaten all day and didn’t realize how hungry you were until there was real food in front of you. You wasted no time in scarfing down the pasta, not bothering to slow down to taste it because you knew it would disappoint you.

Harrison traded you his dinner roll for your brownie, laughing at how you gagged when he put a whole one in his mouth.

“It’s a talent, you’re just jealous,” he said through the brownie.

“Oh yeah? Watch this.”

“No wait-”

“Too late,” you said as you attempted to shove an entire dinner roll into your mouth at once. You were able to get it into your mouth, but chewing was the difficult part. You kind of just, squeezed at it with your mouth, unable to clamp your teeth down correctly.

“I’m kind of impressed,” Harrison admitted.

“Mmmmnnphh.”

“What?”

“Mmmmmwwwhhnn”

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

You were forced to spit the dinner roll out onto a napkin to speak. “I said, told you so.”

He looked at you with amusement. “I hope that was worth it.”

“It was.”

You were able to sleep through the rest of the flight, only waking up when the wheels of the aircraft touched the runway, jostling you awake. You looked over at Harrison who looked gave you a sleepy grin and looked equally groggy as if he had also been roused from sleep at the same time.

Tom still insisted on getting your carry ons down from the overhead compartment so you wouldn’t hit yourself in the face despite the fact that you weren’t talking to each other.

The new security detail was bright eyed and ready to go once they met you at the gate. You gave half-assed introductions of everyone before letting them lead you to baggage claim where you could once again show off your niche skill of finding everyone’s bags and getting them off the conveyor belt in an impressively short amount of time.

It was only dinner time in New York whereas it was already the middle of the night back in Venice so everyone was exhausted. No one talked on the ride from the airport into the city, but no one slept either. They were all looking out the windows at the sun setting behind the skyline, you included. It was a breathtaking welcome to New York.

Of course, the city was actually filled with a bunch of crime and crushed dreams, but it was a nice view nonetheless. You hadn’t been to New York City since you’d toured NYU’s film school. They’d waitlisted you, but now you were back working on a major motion picture so who was laughing now?

You went through the routine of checking into the hotel, collecting the keys, listening to the receptionist explain the wifi and the amenities, and distributing the keys to the boys before you could finally go up to your own room and crash.

Your own room. When the woman handed you four keys you remembered that you actually got your own room this time and felt like bursting into tears of happiness.

You half expected Tom to be lying on the bed when you swiped into your room, but it was empty. There was a king sized bed that was all for you and you couldn’t wait to starfish on it and sleep for fourteen hours. The hotel was in the middle of Times Square, you’d just have to go downstairs in the morning to be on set. There weren’t any lights on in your room, but it was still bright from the fluorescent lights of billboards shining through the sheer curtains.

You dropped your bags at the door and sighed, finally alone after so many weeks. You took it all in for a moment before pushing your suitcase into the middle of the room to unpack. You had just gotten the zipper undone and the top open when there was a knock at the door.

fun fact: I actually was waitlisted from NYU... haha :) also I fell and scraped both my knees again this week. life imitates art. anyway let me know what you thought I always appreciated feedback!!

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[kawaiikichi]

Talk (BKDK)

I legit woke up in a cold sweat one night and suddenly felt the need to write a BKDK one-shot. So this is what came to mind.

With Bakudeku, I’ve always kept thinking about the ‘what-ifs’ in their future and how things would turn out if these two actually sat down and talked shit out.

This was actually meant to be my debut one-shot for both Bakudeku and BNHA, but because of unforeseeable circumstances, the Pocky Day one ended up being my first one instead.

I hope you guys like it! :D

Title: Talk

Summary: After having to give up his pro hero career two years ago, twenty-three year old Izuku is working at a bar in order to get some money and hopefully get his life together. One night, he gets an unexpected customer, who is someone that he hasn’t seen since graduating from UA.

You can also read it on AO3!

One-shot is under the cut!

Izuku stood behind the bar, polishing a glass as he listened to Ochaco complain about her lackluster day at the agency while drinking one glass of beer after another.

“And so, that’s how my day went: just patrolling the town. Like, that has its perks, but I was hoping for something bigger today! Like, Iida and I were texting not too long ago and he managed to bust a drug ring in Ginza!” she whined.

“I can see what you mean...” Izuku trailed off with a light chuckle.

He observed her as she chugged down her third glass of beer.

“I think you should stop drinking, Uraraka. You’re quite drunk already.” he commented.

“I don’t wanna though, Dekuuuuuu!” Ochaco stretched out across the counter, pressing her cheek to the cool surface as she stared at him.

“Should I call a taxi for you?”

“Nope! Don’t call one! I’ll call one myself when I’m ready!”

“Are you sure? Because I’ll call for you if you’re unable to.”

“I’m goooooooood~”

Izuku sighed as he set the glass down. He filled another glass with some ice water and slid it in front of Ochaco in hopes that it would sober her up as he looked at the television that hung in one corner of the bar, its fluorescent light brightening the area around it. While the volume was pretty low, he managed to get the gist of what was happening based on what they were showing along with the headline that ran along the bottom of the screen.

A picture of Katsuki from when he was fighting some villains in America was shown on the screen, causing Izuku to bite his lip as he briefly reflected on his pro hero career before the intense battle that ultimately made him have to give it all up.

He never admitted it out loud, but every time he saw his childhood friend on television, it made him glad that Katsuki was able to achieve his dream. Heck, he even moved to America and created his own agency there.

Katsuki was doing great in the hero world, unlike him, who had resorted to serving people drinks at a small bar in Roppongi.

A video of Katsuki’s recent endeavors in New York City began to play as Izuku’s thoughts began to meander into the unknown.

Kacchan...I wonder how he’s doing now...

He stared at the television, finding himself fascinated by the way Katsuki skillfully dealt with some villains robbing a bank as Ochaco began to beg him to give her another glass of beer. Her loud whining was what made him break eye contact with the television and he shot her a disapproving look.

“No, I’m not going to give you any more beer. You’re too drunk.” he chided.

Ochaco began to throw a fit as he nudged the untouched glass of water closer to her.

“Come on, drink some of that and sober up.” he told her as the door opened, the bell chiming.

“Ah, welcome in—“ Izuku looked over at the door only to freeze.

He was imagining things, right? Because there was certainly no way in hell that Bakugou Katsuki had just walked through that door.

He blinked his eyes twice and when that did nothing for him, he pinched his arm. Letting out a small yelp at the light pain that bloomed from his arm, he was forced to accept that this was actually happening.

What is going on here? I was just wondering how he was doing and then he shows up as if on cue, he thought to himself.

He was shocked beyond belief.

“...Kacchan?!” Izuku exclaimed in shock.

Katsuki looked over and his red eyes immediately zeroed in on Izuku. His eyes slowly narrowed, which made Izuku gulp.

“...What the fuck? Deku?” he barked out.

“Hm? Deku, why do you look so shocked—“ Ochaco followed Izuku’s gaze and she paled upon seeing Katsuki.

“Bakugou?!” she squeaked out.

She suddenly seemed like she had sobered up a bit upon seeing her former classmate. Katsuki glanced over at Ochaco.

“It’s Round Face, too.” he commented.

He then redirected his attention to Izuku.

“Out of all the fucking bars in Roppongi that Shitty Hair told me to check out, you had to be working at this one, Deku.” he bit out.

“This...it’s just a coincidence, Kacchan!” Izuku exclaimed.

“Coincidence, huh...” Katsuki trailed off.

Ochaco looked back and forth between Izuku and Katsuki before laughing nervously.

“Hey, Deku? I think I’m just gonna go...” she slid some money across the counter. “Good luck with him.” she said.

“Wait, you’re going to leave me by myself?!” Izuku exclaimed.

Ochaco didn’t respond as she quickly rushed out, closing the door behind her. Now, it was just Izuku and Katsuki in the bar. Izuku swallowed, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?! It’s been a few years since we last saw each other. Should I just act normally around him, he thought to himself.

“I see you still mumble to yourself.” Bakugou commented.

Izuku’s hand flew over his mouth.

Shit, I can’t believe I said that out loud! How embarrassing, he thought to himself.

“Whatever.” Katsuki took his hands out of his camo patterned jacket that he had on over a black shirt. “Just get me something to drink.” he said.

“A drink? Y-Yeah, of course...” he watched as Katsuki got closer. “What would you like exactly...?” he asked.

“Just some whiskey. Preferably Fireball, if you have any.” Katsuki replied.

“I think we have some.” Izuku said as he began to gather a glass along with a bottle of the Fireball whiskey Katsuki had requested.

“Also, pour something for yourself.” Katsuki said.

Izuku nearly dropped the glass.

“Pour something for myself?” he questioned.

“Are you deaf, Deku? I said to pour something for yourself. I wanna talk.” he said.

“Talk...about what?” Izuku asked.

Katsuki glowered at him, his brows knitted and lips turned downward in a scowl.

“Goddammit, you still ask too many fucking questions. Just pour yourself a drink, annoying Deku.” he barked out.

“O-Okay! I will! Just...” Izuku glanced over at the door that led to the back room. “Let me see if I get someone to cover for me while I go on break...” he trailed off.

“Do what you need to do. I’ll be sitting at that booth over there.” Katsuki turned and headed towards the booth he motioned at before. “And make sure you hurry it up because I don’t have all evening! Make me wait and I’ll blast you out of this goddamn bar!” he snapped, holding his hand out and making some small flames explode from them as proof that he will do it.

Izuku yelped.

“Okay, okay!” he squeaked out as he hurried to make Katsuki’s drink along with his own, his heart pounding in his ears all the while as he eyed Katsuki plopping down into the booth and drumming his fingers against the table impatiently.

As he looked away, he barely missed the way Katsuki’s eyes were trained on his every movement, his fiery eyes blazing with an emotion that Izuku couldn’t quite place.

🧡💚🧡💚

After calling for one of his coworkers to take over for him, which ended with his coworker insisting that he get off his shift early and Izuku taking him up on that, he sat across from Katsuki with a glass of cola in front of him and a glass of Fireball in front of the blond.

He twisted the pastel blue straw in between his fingers as he eyed Katsuki, who only stared at him with pointed red eyes as he took small sips from his whiskey.

If Izuku was being honest, this situation was just downright awkward.

What in the world am I even supposed to say? How do I even start this conversation? Does he plan on starting it or does he want me to do it? I mean, shit, I was definitely not expecting Kacchan to show up from out of nowhere, so I don’t know how to handle this situation. The last time I saw him was when we graduated from UA and then he left for the States soon after. So technically, that was also the last time I spoke to him because we didn’t keep in touch after that. I mean, I don’t see why we would, to be honest. Our relationship got a little better after that fight we had and during the house arrest in the dorm, but it’s not like we got close enough to actually talk like friends would and exchange numbers and text all the time and hang out together—

“You’re fucking doing it again.”

Izuku jolted, his knee hitting the table as he stared at Katsuki, who shot him an annoyed look.

“You’re supposed to be talking to me, not to yourself, annoying Deku.” he bit out.

Izuku’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment upon realizing that he was muttering out loud again, his hand flying up to cover his mouth.

“Sorry, Kacchan...” he trailed off.

Katsuki only scoffed in response as he took another sip. As soon as he set his glass down, Izuku finally decided that now would be a good time to initiate the conversation.

“So...what brings you back to Japan?” he asked.

“I’m opening a branch for my agency here.” Katsuki replied.

“I see...” Izuku trailed off as he took a sip from his straw.

The bubbly liquid tickled his throat and made his stomach all fluttery, but that was nothing compared to how he felt sitting across from Kacchan, whose gaze made Izuku feel as if the blond were staring directly into his soul.

“Then, you’re just here to make sure that everything is going well with the construction?” Izuku asked.

“Well, that’s part of it.” Katsuki replied.

This piqued Izuku’s interest.

“Part of it?” he eyed Katsuki in surprise. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Why does it matter to you?” Katsuki short back.

“You’re the one that brought it up, so don’t try and change the subject.”

“Fuck you.”

“Just tell me already.” Izuku said with an exasperated sigh.

“Have you always been this snappy?” Katsuki asked, his eyebrow twitching.

“Things change, you know. Like I told you before, I’m not the same ‘Deku’ you used to know.” Izuku told him.

Katsuki’s eyebrows continued to twitch and Izuku feared for a split second that he would send a blast in his direction. However, Katsuki simply finished his drink and called out to the bartender to fill up another glass with the spiced whiskey. Katsuki stood and retrieved his drink before returning to the booth and sitting back down with a huff. He took a sip as Izuku spoke.

“Will you tell me?” he asked.

Katsuki breathed out an annoyed sigh.

“Fucking fine. I’ll tell you, so stop fucking asking, Deku.” Katsuki set his glass down. “I’m moving back.” he said.

“You are?” Izuku questioned in surprise.

“It’s all the fucking news is talking about these days.”

“Really...”

Izuku stirred his drink with his straw.

“Is there...a reason why you’re coming back to Japan? I thought you would’ve liked it in the States.” he asked.

“No particular reason.” Katsuki replied.

Izuku’s brows arched at this.

This wasn’t like the blond. Katsuki Bakugou never did things for no reason. There was always a reason behind his actions, no matter how big or small or ridiculous it would be. So for him to tell Izuku that meant there was something more to this. He just wasn’t sure what that was.

Izuku was tempted to ask, but he figured that Katsuki might blow up on him like he usually did, so he decided against it.

“Okay then...” he trailed off.

He took more sips from his soda as he observed Katsuki.

The blond didn’t really change much. Besides the black stud that he had on his right ear and the fact that he was being a little more mellow than Izuku remembered, he was still the same Katsuki that called him Deku and threatened to use his quirk on him if he pissed him off too much. He was still hot-headed, easy to anger, prideful, handsome, cute, and just downright sexy—

Izuku blushed before he could stop himself.

Oh my god, what am I thinking?! I thought I stopped feeling this way towards Kacchan...unless that was a complete lie and I’m still head over heels in love with him, he thought to himself.

He watched as Katsuki brought the glass back to his lips, the amber liquid slipping past them. Izuku swallowed as Katsuki set his glass back down.

“Oi, Deku.”

Izuku jolted as he was pulled out of his thoughts. Katsuki scanned him before speaking.

“I heard about what happened between you and that villain two years ago.” he said.

Izuku stiffened.

“Oh...that.” he said.

He bit his lip as Katsuki continued.

“I watched the fight live. Hearing that your injuries were beyond repair and that you wouldn’t be able to work as a pro hero anymore came as a shock.” he stared off into the distance. “It’s a shame that they lost a good pro hero so soon.” he mumbled under his breath.

Izuku wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear that last sentence, but it made his heart flutter nonetheless.

In that moment, he wanted to slap himself.

No, you did not just flutter. You should not be fluttering, stupid heart, he told himself.

He finished off his soda as he looked at his phone.

“It’s this late already?” he began to panic. “I need to get home and feed Pochi and Kacchan before taking them on their walk—“ Katsuki cut Izuku off before he could continue rambling.

“Wait, hold up. Pochi and who now?” he asked.

“Uh, Pochi and Kacchan? They’re my two Pomeranians.” Izuku replied, quickly pulling up a picture of them on his phone and showing it to Katsuki.

Katsuki glared at the photo, boring holes into the square cellular device as he shot daggers at Izuku.

“You think you’re so fucking funny, Deku, naming your dog that.” he barked out, small flames erupting from his palm.

“He looked like you, Kacchan, how could I not name him that?” Izuku questioned.

“You really want me to blast you, don’t you?”

“Please don’t.”

Izuku pocketed his phone, stuffing it into his pants pocket and sliding out of the booth.

“But really, I need to go. I’m pretty sure you have things to do as well, so I’ll get going.” he fidgeted a little. “It was...nice to see you, Kacchan.” he told him.

As he turned and got ready to leave, Katsuki called out to him.

“Wait.”

That single word made Izuku stop in his tracks. He turned, watching as Katsuki slid out of the booth and left some cash on the table.

“I’ll walk you back.” he said.

“H-Huh?!” Izuku’s cheeks flushed red. “You don’t need to do that, Kacchan! I can go back on my own.” he told him.

“Let me walk you back.”

“I said you don’t need to do that—“

“Refuse my offer one more time and I’ll fucking blast you into next Thursday, fussy Deku.” Katsuki bit out, flames erupting from his hand again in warning.

“Th-Then, please take care of me!” Izuku shouted in a shrill voice, quickly bowing before him.

“You don’t need to fucking bow, Deku.” Izuku stood back up as Katsuki smacked him lightly on the back, nudging him forward. “Let’s go.” he said.

Izuku could only nod as he followed the blond out of the bar.

🧡💚🧡💚

Izuku and Katsuki walked side by side through the quiet streets, neither of them saying a word. Their breaths came out in white puffs like cigarette smoke, signaling how cold it was. Every once in a while, their fingers would accidentally brush together, causing Izuku to quickly yank his hand back as his heart raced erratically.

Why am I acting like some giddy schoolgirl? I seriously need to stop, he told himself.

A particularly cold breeze rippled through the air, making Izuku shudder. He hugged himself, rubbing his arms in hopes that that would make him somewhat warm.

Damn him for not bringing a jacket to work with him.

Just then, he felt something warm cover his trembling and cold body. He tugged lightly on it in surprise, seeing that it had an oddly familiar camo pattern. He whipped his head to look at Katsuki so fast that he nearly got whiplash from it.

“K-Kacchan?!” he exclaimed.

“Just keep that on you.” Katsuki replied, still looking ahead.

“But...won’t you be cold, too?” Izuku asked.

“I’ll be fine. They invented long-sleeved shirts for a fucking reason, you know, Deku.” Katsuki stated.

Izuku scrunched his nose.

“There you go, being rude again.” he commented.

“Fucking deal with it.” Katsuki shot back.

Izuku pouted as he looked away. He pulled Katsuki’s jacket more over him and he couldn’t help but inhale Katsuki’s scent. The hints of spice and cologne all screamed Katsuki and it made his shivering stop. His scent was somehow calming.

They eventually arrived at Izuku’s apartment thanks to his directions, stopping in front of a door that had the number 202 on it.

“Well, this is the place. Thank you for walking me back even though I insisted that I could go by myself.” he reached into his pants pocket for his keys. “I’ll see you around, I guess.” he said.

He took his keys out and pushed it into the slot as Katsuki spoke.

“Deku.”

“Yeah?”

Izuku looked over and was surprised to see the serious look on Katsuki’s face. Yeah, the blond was always serious, but this was different. It certainly felt different.

“Kacchan...?” Izuku spoke with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“There was something that I lied about.” Katsuki admitted.

“Huh?” Izuku answered, blinking his eyes twice in confusion.

Katsuki lied about something? Well, that was something Izuku never heard before, especially since the blond was notorious for speaking his mind, regardless of how harsh his words came off as.

“My reason for coming back. I do have one.” Izuku sword he saw the blond blush. “It was because I missed you, annoying Deku.” Katsuki said.

Izuku blinked once. Then twice. Then Katsuki’s words registered in his mind and a blush crawled onto his cheeks.

Wait, did he just say what I think he just said, he mentally screamed.

“You...what?” Izuku asked.

“I said,” Katsuki walked over to him and trapped him against the door, one arm over Izuku’s head and the other against the door, fingers splayed out, “I missed you.” he said.

Izuku’s breath caught in his throat as he stared up into Katsuki’s red eyes, which held a blazing fire in them. It made him swallow, his heart racing faster. Katsuki’s hand traveled to caress his cheek before long fingers trailed along the side of his cup and gripping his chin, tilting it upward gingerly.

The simple touch sent sparks through Izuku and made fireworks erupt from within as Katsuki began to lean in. As Katsuki’s breath mingled with his own, Izuku realized what was about to happen.

Whoa, whoa, hold on, full stop! What is Kacchan doing?! He can’t be trying to kiss me, right? I mean, we just saw each other after so long! This is too sudden! I don’t think my heart can take this, he thought to himself.

“W-Wait, Kacchan!” Izuku exclaimed as he brought his hand over his mouth.

His heart jumped six feet into the air as Katsuki’s lips pressed themselves against his fingers. He glowered at Izuku.

“What, Deku? Why did you stop me?” he growled out.

“I...” Izuku slowly lowered his hand, which made Katsuki pull away. “Kacchan, this is very sudden...why did you try to kiss me just now...?” he asked.

“I thought that was obvious.”

“Then your definition of obvious must be different from mine because I don’t know.”

“Fine, I’ll tell you. And you better remember it, Deku.”

Katsuki leaned in towards Izuku’s breath, his breath tickling the shell of it. Izuku almost let out a small sigh as Katsuki spoke, his voice low and husky.

“I like you, Deku.” he said.

Izuku’s face resembled that of a rose. His heart almost leaped out of his chest as Katsuki’s words played over and over in his mind like a broken record.

Kacchan...likes me. Kacchan likes me...oh my god, Kacchan likes me! He has feelings for me! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god...!

He bit his lip.

But...again, this really is too sudden. I can’t just bring myself to say “I love you too!” and then start dating him. He was mean to me back when we were younger. Now he suddenly likes me?

He glanced at Katsuki, who also had a blush of his own on his cheeks.

But...it seems like he means it. Kacchan couldn’t fake a blush to save his life, anyway. That’s one thing I’ve always liked about him: he’s painfully honest with himself and straightforward about how he feels. Maybe I should give this a chance.

“Kacchan, I...this doesn’t feel right. We should go slow, don’t you think?” he suggested.

“Slow?” Katsuki questioned, acting as if Izuku suggested something crazy.

“Like, I don’t know, let’s talk and get to really know each other. Take me out on some dates and let’s have fun doing things together. Only then can we take the next step and you can...” the blush began to spread to Izuku’s ears. “...kiss me...” he murmured.

Katsuki stared at Izuku for what felt like forever. Then, he released a loud sigh.

“Fine...fucking fine! We can go slow! But don’t think I’ll be able to hold back forever. You know how quickly my patience can run out.” Katsuki said.

“I know, I know.” Izuku said.

“Now, give me your phone.” Katsuki said, extending his hand out.

“My phone?” Izuku parroted.

“How the hell am I supposed to give you my number otherwise? Give it.” Katsuki bit out.

“Alright, alright...” Izuku pulled his phone out. “You’re still as demanding as always.” he commented as he unlocked it.

“Zip it, Deku.” Katsuki snapped as he snatched the phone out of his hand.

He went into Izuku’s contacts and added his before handing the phone back to him.

“Here. I’ll text you when I figure things out.” Katsuki told him.

“Alright. I’ll be looking forward to it.” Izuku said with a smile.

“You better!” Katsuki turned to leave. “Good night, Deku.” he said.

“Good night, Kacchan.” Izuku replied.

He waved as Kacchan rose his hand and waved nonchalantly. The blond disappeared soon after. Izuku sighed, his heart finally calming down.

“Now, time to feed Pochi and Kacchan and then take them on their walk...” he trailed off as he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Immediately, two balls of fluff rushed over to greet him.

“Ah!” Izuku laughed. “Hey Kacchan, Pochi!” he greeted.

Izuku bent down to pet them, Kacchan placing his paws on Izuku’s knee and licking his cheek as Izuku giggled.

“Kacchan, stop that!” he said as his phone dinged.

He looked down and saw that it was a text from Katsuki.

Already, he asked himself.

He went into his messages and read what the blond sent him.

Katsuki: Meet me in front of that bar you work at on Saturday at 6. We’re gonna go out to eat. And yes, I’m asking you out on a date, don’t you dare tell me no.

Izuku couldn’t help but laugh.

“That is so Kacchan...” he trailed off.

He typed out his response, a smile on his face.

Izuku: It’s a date, then. See you on Saturday, Kacchan.

[hysterialevi]

When the Devil Cries - Final Part

Fanfic summary: (NO SPOILERS IN THIS STORY) After arriving in Saint Denis, Arthur ends up falling in love with a seemingly innocent pianist, only to find himself in a battle with one of the most notorious outlaws to ever emerge from America. Now, between working for Dutch and robbing money for the gang, Arthur has to also protect the man he loves as the two of them try to find their freedom.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Male OC

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

Author’s note: Welp, this is it guys! The final chapter. Thank you so much to those of you who stuck with me during this whole story. I seriously appreciate the support you’ve given me ever since I started this fanfic, and it means the world to me to see how much you’ve enjoyed it. I’m definitely gonna miss writing about Arthur and Eddie, but I also can’t wait to show you what else I have planned in the future. Stay awesome :)

From Arthur’s POV

ONE WEEK LATER

THE BASTILLE, SAINT DENIS

“Dear, John...” I murmured to myself, readin’ my awfully-written letter out loud, “...it’s Tacitus. I hope this letter finds you on the off-chance that you’re still alive, but truth be told...I wouldn’t even know where to start looking. Last time we saw each other, we was both trying to make our way out of that god-awful shit storm, and I regret that I never got the chance to see if you survived.”

“If you’re still out there somewhere, I wish you luck. You saved my ass when hell finally broke loose, and I won’t forget it. As for me -- my partner and I have managed to stay out of trouble for a while, and we’re planning to start a new life someplace else. For your safety and mine, I cannot say where, but just know that we’re doing okay. Things ain’t easy, but we got each other. And if these following years go according to plan, who knows? Perhaps we might be able to rejoin you someday.”

“If you’re not alive though, then...I will certainly miss you. That’s for sure. We ain’t related by blood, I know, but you was always like a brother to me. We grew up together since the very beginning, and I’ll never forget the times when you used to annoy me so much that I wanted to tear my hair out. Who’d have thought I’d eventually miss those days?”

“But...as much as I’d like to keep this going, I’m afraid there’s a ship I need to catch pretty soon. It’s gonna carry me off to a civilized world where I am to live as a civilized man. I ain’t exactly ready for a life like that, but it’s where I’ve ended up. I suppose we shall see how that goes.”

“Farewell for now, John. You’ll always be in my thoughts.

Your friend and brother,

--Tacitus Kilgore.”

Placin’ the letter down on a table, I leaned back in my chair and reread some of the sentences to myself as a worn-out breath escaped me, probably because of how long I spent thinkin’ about how to word all this.

If I was bein’ honest, I didn’t even know if trying to contact John was a good idea. I mean, we was both still wanted men. Even with Agent Milton gone, the rest of the Pinkertons were still searching for us. If they knew that either of us were alive, I had no doubts that they’d do everything within their power to try and stop us from escaping...and that was a risk I couldn’t take.

I let out a frustrated sigh and balled up the piece of paper in my hands, tossin’ it into the nearby fireplace.

“...Goddammit.” I whispered to myself, solemnly watchin’ as the letter burned.

Was that the right thing to do? I wanted to see John again, of course, but...maybe it was better this way.

We both had people to take care of, after all. He had Abigail and Jack, and I had Eddie.

The less we knew about each other, the safer we’d be. We had to worry about more than just ourselves in this case, and -- with the law constantly up our ass -- perhaps it was best for everyone if John thought I was dead. Then, he’d have nothin’ to give to the Pinkertons. At least, not when it came to me.

Still though, part of me wished I could at least say goodbye to him before hightailing it to England. Out of all the people I grew up with, John was the only one left who was alive and trustworthy.

And on top of that, there was no guarantee I’d ever return to America. Apart from sentimentality, this country had nothin’ else for me. All that remained of the Van der Linde gang was a long trail of blood that civilization was already in the process of forgetting, and I certainly didn’t plan on lingering around with my wanted posters still flappin’ in the wind.

I was finally ready to be the man I aspired to be, and not the man Dutch created.

My life in the United States may have been over...but my life as a free man was just beginning.

Interrupting my thoughts, the door suddenly swung open when Eddie came wanderin’ in with a briefcase in his hand, all ready to go. He was usin’ the same cane that Hamish gave to him back at O’Creagh’s Run, and the more I saw him limpin’ around the room with a sway in his step, the more I worried about the true condition of his leg.

The pianist insisted he was fine whenever I asked him, but -- despite bein’ the dolt that I was -- I was still smart enough to assume that climbing a huge rock formation not too long after getting shot in the leg probably wasn’t the best idea.

I supposed all that commotion with Atticus finally did a number on Eddie’s injuries. He looked alright during all that drama, but with everything else that was goin’ on, I only hoped that we wouldn’t need the doctor’s services before departing for England. Things was stressful enough as is.

“Arthur,” Eddie greeted, settin’ his briefcase down on the bed for a moment. “You ready to go? The ship’s leaving in half an hour.”

“Yep. I got everything I need. What about you?”

Eddie took a seat across from me. “Me too. Just...preparing myself for the long journey now, is all. It’s been ages since I last set foot in England. I wonder what it’s like nowadays.”

“Hopefully, better than here.”

A chuckle escaped him. “Oh, I dunno about that, but at least we won’t have to worry about the Pinkertons there. I’m sick of constantly checking over my shoulder for them.”

I nodded in agreement. “I know the feeling. Milton may be dead and gone, but I doubt that the rest of them clowns will give up so easily. Perhaps, it’ll even motivate ‘em to work harder. I just hope Agent Ross doesn’t find John. That man has a family to look after.”

“Have you heard from him ever since Beaver Hollow?”

“No. I was actually plannin’ to send him a letter, but...I got rid of it just before you walked in here. Figured it’d be better if he didn’t know I was alive.”

Eddie tilted his head in an inquisitive manner. “Why? Don’t you want to see him again?”

“’Course I do. But think about it -- if John believes I’m dead, then the Pinkertons will have no reason to pester him. They might still go after him for the bounty on his own head, but interrogatin’ him for information about me would be pointless.”

The pianist glanced downwards. “Hmm. I guess so. Still, it’d be nice to thank him in person. John was always friendly to me back at camp, and he saved our lives at Beaver Hollow too. Without him, neither of us would’ve gotten away.”

“Now, ain’t that the truth.”

Eddie changed the subject. “And what of Dutch? Have you heard any news about him?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Nothing. There’s no word in the papers, no rumors circulating about him --  it’s as if he’s vanished entirely. That man could be on his way to Tahiti for all I know.”

The other man glowered. “...Or running off with Micah.”

“...That, too.” I sighed in disapproval. “Goddamn it...what the hell happened to that man? Dutch used to be so different. So full of life. So...human. But now, he’s nothin’ short of a madman. Just a tyrant who goes trigger-happy when he doesn’t get his way. I keep wonderin’ to myself where it all went wrong. Where things started to fall apart.”

The pianist frowned out of sympathy. “Well, perhaps he was always a madman. It was you who finally opened your eyes and changed.”

I rubbed my chin in thought. “...Maybe. I don’t know. Hosea used to say the same thing about himself, but to be honest...I’m not sure I care anymore. All I care about is us. You’re what matters to me now, Eddie. Not them.”

Eddie beamed warmly at the comment and gazed lovingly at me for a second, seemingly gettin’ lost in his thoughts before bringing up another topic.

“You know what...” he recalled, “that actually reminds me of something I’ve been meaning to tell you ever since we arrived in Saint Denis.”

I quirked a brow. “Oh yeah? And what would that be?”

The pianist gave me a sincere look, suddenly changing his overall demeanor. “...I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

I flicked my eyes around in confusion. “Sorry? For what?”

“For not taking your advice,” he answered. “Ever since the beginning, you warned me that vengeance was an idiot’s game. And like the idiot I was, I refused to listen to you. I was just...”

Eddie let out a conflicted sigh, shifting in his seat. “I was so consumed with this insatiable desire for revenge. No matter how much I tried to forgive him, I just couldn’t let Atticus go. There was too much anger inside me. Too much grief. I thought that killing Atticus would provide a sense of justice, or a fresh beginning, but in the end...his death only made me feel...”

The man trailed off, unable to find the right words.

“...Empty?” I finished.

The pianist nodded in response.

“Yes. Empty. But not only that. When I saw the life disappear from Atticus’ eyes, part of me even...regretted killing him so soon. I guess I had hoped there would be some sort of closure to the conflict between us, but instead...it felt like reading a story that was one chapter short. There was no resolution. No way down from the peak of the mountain. It was just...a cliff. And you know the worst part of it?”

Eddie’s expression sank with melancholy. “...I still can’t let Atticus go.”

Strugglin’ to set his thoughts in order, Eddie lowered his head in a distraught manner and stared aimlessly at the floor, causin’ me to reach across the table and lay a hand on top of his own in an attempt to comfort him.

“Hey...” I whispered softly, tryin’ to catch the disheartened man’s attention. “You made a mistake, but it ain’t the end of the world. You can still learn from this. You’re strong. Much stronger than you realize. And...if I may offer some advice...”

I scooted my chair closer to his, grippin’ his hand more firmly now. “Based on everything you’ve said to me since we first met, it sounds like that Atticus ain’t the one you can’t let go. ...I think it’s Nathaniel that you don’t want to forget.”

Takin’ my words to heart, Eddie paused at my observation and lifted his head slightly, starin’ in a way that told me I just hit the nail on the head.

I could tell from the expression plastered on his face that he ain’t never thought about it that way before, and I almost felt kinda bad for the emotional conflict that I was clearly puttin’ this poor boy through.

He blinked away some of the tears that were startin’ to gather in his eyes and gripped my hand affectionately, trying to hide how much his voice was truly trembling.

“...He is, isn’t he?”

Eddie let out a shaky breath, thinkin’ back to the day Nathaniel died.

“You know, I always blamed myself for not being able to save Nathaniel. I understand that, realistically, there was nothing I could’ve done for him, but still. The thought eats me up all the time. Even now. I just...can’t move on. I can’t sleep at night because I know that if he was alive today, he’d probably never forgive me for abandoning him.

“Nonsense,” I replied, quick to come to his defense. “If Nathaniel knew that you managed to survive that day -- that you actually made it all the way to America, started a new life for yourself, became a pianist, and killed Atticus Rose after months of fightin’ for your life as an outlaw only to become a free man -- why...” I chuckled in awe, “...he’d be so, goddamned proud of you.”

The other man gazed at me with teary eyes, not quite convinced yet. “How do you know?”

I smiled brightly at Eddie. “...Because I know I am.”

Evidently somewhat overwhelmed by my praise, the sorrow disappeared from Eddie’s face as he cracked a small grin and leaned forward, showerin’ me with his own storm of compliments.

“Thank you, Arthur, but it’s not as if I did it all by myself. You did your fair share of work too. In fact, I never would’ve made it this far if you hadn’t found me that day. Your first interaction with me was an act of kindness, and yet you still speak ill of yourself constantly. You truly are a marvel, Arthur...but I don’t think you see it.”

I sighed remorsefully, wishin’ I could say Eddie was entirely right.

“That’s ‘cause I done some real bad things in my life, Eddie. Horrible things. Before I met you, I used to rob people who didn’t deserve it, kill folks who did nothin’ except get in the way of Dutch’s plans, and I did all of it while living under some twisted sense of honor to help me sleep at night. But now...”

I looked the pianist in eye, still holdin’ on to his hand, “I wanna change, Eddie. For real this time. I don’t wanna just be some thief who happens to be kinder than the rest. I wanna be a better man. A better partner. No more crimes, no more violence...just redemption. That’s all I want.”

Eddie gently brought his hands up to my face and pulled me closer, caressing my cheek in a loving manner.

“...Then let’s do it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

TWENTY MINUTES LATER

SAINT DENIS HARBOR

Sittin’ in the stagecoach as it gently rolled over the brick roads, Eddie and I eagerly gazed outta the small windows with a newfound wonder in our hearts as we passed by the whole city, somewhat unable to comprehend that we was actually leavin’ this country.

I had to admit -- it was strange, seeing Saint Denis like this again. Over the course of the last few months, Eddie and I spent every damn day fightin’ for our lives, just trying to survive. We fought against the O’Driscolls, the Pinkertons, Atticus, and even good ol’ Dutch himself.

We had been to Hell and back while still finding the time to plant the seeds of what was now an unbreakable bond between us, and yet...Saint Denis hadn’t changed one bit.

In fact, this city looked exactly the same as when I first met Eddie. People were breezin’ through the streets without a care for the beggars on the sidewalks, activists and politicians rallied people to their campaigns, children played games in the open gardens, and everywhere, people lined up in front of all sorts of establishments, waitin’ to be entertained.

The gears of civilization kept turnin’ with not a single thought for those left behind, and somehow, it still managed to look like it hadn’t gone anywhere at all.

It was one of the many wonders of the new world, but also one of the things that made me fear it. How was it that a city could progress so much without actually changin’ anything? Or maybe it was just my nerves actin’ up? I didn’t know anymore.

Everything was just so confusing now. Instead of runnin’ away from civilized life like I normally did, I was headin’ straight towards it.

I was getting ready to do the one thing that Dutch always insisted was impossible, and to make matters even more astonishing, I had a man who loved me standin’ at my side.

All them years of wondering why I could never be good enough for Mary, or strong enough to protect Eliza...and I finally had someone who accepted me as I was, but also encouraged me to be better. It took a good three decades, but my life had finally picked itself up even though I sure as hell didn’t deserve it.

I was on the opposite side of the spectrum for the first time, but -- contrary to what I expected -- I was happy. I was ready to change. And I welcomed it.

Finally arrivin’ at the harbor, the stagecoach slowed down to a steady halt as it stopped beside the entrance, prompting me and Eddie to leave. There were already a few other stagecoaches lined up in front of us, spittin’ out passengers just the same, and without even looking, I could tell it was gonna be crowded as hell outside just based on the noise.

I picked up my briefcase, takin’ hold of the door’s handle.

“You ready?” I asked Eddie, earning a nod from him.

“Ready as ever.”

Lightly pushing the door open, the two of us were instantly greeted by a cool breeze as the sound of seagulls cryin’ and people chatting reached our ears, followed by the distinct scent of saltwater.

All around me, I could see men, women, and children pacin’ their way across the harbor as they hurried to find their ship, or simply waited for their loved ones to arrive.

There were multiple paperboys stationed throughout the place, merchants displaying their trinkets to newcomers as they came fresh off the boats, fishermen luggin’ heavy nets around, and a number of street performers offerin’ a lively mood to the otherwise mundane atmosphere of the harbor.

It was a surprisingly busy day in this part of town, and...if I was bein’ honest...I felt a tad nervous jumping into the heart of it all. There were just so many people; so many civilized folks who were unlike me that...I felt incredibly outta place here.

But I supposed I’d have to get used to it sooner or later. This was the beginning of my new life, after all...and I was old enough to know that nothin’ worthwhile ever came easy.

“Here,” I said, offering Eddie a hand as he stepped out of the stagecoach. “Lemme help.”

The pianist gave me a humorous grin. “Such a gentleman.”

I chuckled, duckin’ my head as I followed him out. “What can I say? Civilization’s gettin’ to me.”

Swiftly makin’ our way outta the confines of the stagecoach’s limited space, Eddie and I set out for our ship as we slithered through the bustling streets of the harbor, doin’ our absolute best not to crash into other people.

Unlike the serene nature of the countryside, this place was pretty much filled to the brim with commotion. Folks were movin’ around so fast that they practically made the signposts twirl, and sometimes, there’d be nothing but a tornado of leaves whirling in their wake.

It was like people couldn’t even spare two seconds to take a breath. They were just completely focused on the here and now, and didn’t even bother to take in their surroundings. It was...kinda sad to witness, in a way. Though, I guessed that was just the nature of civilization.

There was no time for the present. Only for the future.

Stickin’ to the sides of the pavements, the two of us made haste for a ship at the very end of the harbor called “The Pytheas.” It was a gargantuan thing stacked with so many massive crates and strange-lookin’ machines that it made you wonder how the hell it managed to stay afloat.

There were all sorts of people gatherin’ on the pier as well. Even from here, I could see groups of businessmen discussing deals in many different languages, professors pondering what awaited them on the other side of the sea, artists sketchin’ down the vast landscape to combat their boredom, and immigrants huddling up with their families. It was like seein’ a miniature version of the entire world stuffed onto one strip of land.

And then...there was me and Eddie.

Just a musician and an outlaw.

A pianist and a gunslinger.

Two lost souls who were once crippled by their own fears, but learned to become whole after they found each other.

We was nothin’ but a pair of ordinary men in the eyes of these people. Just two regular guys goin’ about their business on a regular day. But if they were to look a bit more closely -- I guaranteed they’d be able to see the convoluted stories hiding inside.

They were written in the lines on our faces, in the depths of our eyes, in the steps we took. It was a silent journey that spoke for itself, and I doubted that either of us would ever forget it, despite leavin’ that entire ordeal behind.

We had a plethora of memories lingering in the west, after all. Simply by gazin’ at the wilderness hiding behind the city’s skyline, I was practically able to relive every moment of my past.

From the day Dutch and Hosea found me, to our endless adventures riding across the open deserts, to the times I wasted fallin’ in love with Mary, to the many years I spent mourning Isaac and Eliza...

All the friends that I buried along the way, the anger and grief I experienced, the enemies we gunned down, the nights we spent sharin’ stories around the campfire, the days where I wondered if I’d live long enough to see the next sunrise...

It all flooded my head at once. Within the span of a few seconds, I watched my whole life unfold in front of me like a person rapidly flipping through the pages of a book, and for the first time in years, I could sense genuine tears welling up in my eyes from all the emotions that were racin’ through me.

It was just...surreal to think about how far I had come. How much I’d grown. How much things had changed.

Not too many years ago, I was nothin’ but a sad, lost, and lonely man who thought he’d die long before the age of gunslingers withered away -- but now... there was an entirely new world waitin’ for me on the other side of the ocean. As well as a new home.

And so -- with one last glance over my shoulder -- I turned around and savored the reminiscent view standin’ behind me as it slowly disappeared in the distance, waving goodbye like an old friend bidding me farewell.

I had no idea if I’d ever return to this country, or if I’d ever get the closure I desired with John and Dutch...but one thing I did know was that America would always be home to me.

No matter the amount of pain or heartache that lingered in the shadows of our gang’s actions, there was just some sort of connection between me and this place that nothing could sever.

For the sake of buildin’ a peaceful home with Eddie, I would comply and live in a civilized world away from crime, but deep down -- I knew damn well that I’d always be an outlaw for life.

It was just who I was, and it was the thing that turned me into this man today.

I was Arthur Morgan, and this was the end of my story in the Wild West.

“...Goodbye, Dutch.” I whispered softly to myself, turnin’ on my heel to follow Eddie to the ship.

There were only a few minutes left until departure now, and part of me grew weary just thinkin’ about the lengthy journey ahead -- but regardless of how long it took for us to reach England, or how tiring the trip would be, I was at peace knowing that we had finally achieved the dream we fought so long to reach.

Eddie and I were officially free men from this day forward...and we had acquired the one treasure Dutch never found. The only luxury that no amount of money could buy.

The one thing that only ever truly mattered to me.

Redemption.

[ryncorrect]

university!au: day6 wonpil

first of all i will definitely do poorly on this because,,, you know,,,,, he’s so precious and i don’t think my words can do it justice ksbdjshs i wanna make the sweetest scenario for him

but i suck at sweet stuffs smh bye

name: kim wonpil

major: modeling (i still cant believe this is an actual major im living under a rock smh)

other activities: member of music club, keyboardist and main singer of the university band

jae calls him “the backbone” of the music club because wonpil participates in all club events, he always takes part in weekly activities, and he actively finds new recruits

jae on the other side pops up once in a blue moon to play guitar, do shit, then disappears

don’t worry ever since jae starts dating the newest member who happens to be wonpil’s bestie he’s more active now

honestly more than half of their club members joined because wonpil made them to

he’s persuasive and convincing okay you would end up eating rocks if he told you it’s good for health

but he’ll never do that ever bc he speaks no lies okay he’s like the sweetest person in the earth

he’ll cry by the sight of cute puppies, do i have to explain further

wonpil was nominated as the club president but the other candidate park sungjin who’s also his roommate beat him by one vote

well he prefers to be just regular member anyway, that way he can still do a lot of things for the club but with less responsibilities

you see he’s really nice, he’s caring, he’s hardworking, he’s confident, he knows how to present himself and he’s hella attractive

he’s taking modeling as his major do i make myself clear

everyone LOVES wonpil

and i mean sometimes it’s just not only a platonic love but like an “i will give you my heart and soul please marry me” love

too bad he’s oblivious af

someone: i,, i like you wonpil,,,, d-do you like me too?

wonpil: of course!!! you’re my friend!!!!!!!!!

someone: ….oh ok

accidental friendzone

but you know he doesnt actually mean to do that, he just doesn’t think anyone likes him like that

moreover he already has someone in mind

aka the coffee shop girl

aka Y O U

yeah hello guys i am: still lame

the first time he met you was on exams week

everyone was busy and stressed af and running on almost no sleep

except maybe wonpil

not because he was fully prepared but more like he forgot exams week was coming until the day before so he just decided to wing it lol whatevs

anyway his roommate aka sungjin asked him if he could go buy him a double shot espresso so wonpil did

he rarely visits coffee shops tbh and when he does he always orders vanilla latte with extra syrup for himself

wonpil seems to be that kinda person who tries to enjoy coffee but can’t handle the bitter taste its so frickin cute and trust me you think so too

so anywayyyy yeah he never saw you, aka the new barista, before

it was ur first work day as well btw and he was ur first customer

he didn’t know why but watching you being nervous made him nervous too

just imagine a stuttering costumer and a stuttering barista

everyone watched you two with anxiety

but even when wonpil was a nervous wreck he didn’t forget to smile and before leaving he said to you, “thanks, have a great day!!!!!!!!!!!”

honest to god it made your whole day better

anyway let’s move on to the second meeting

he comes back and this time he orders a vanilla latte, but being the clumsy ass that you are, you slightly confused his order

he receives his coffee and takes a sip and he freezes

you ask whats wrong and he’s like,, uh nothing,, the coffee is just,,,, kinda bitter today??? ha,,,hahahhaha,,,,

you stand still

wait

he asked for EXTRA SYRUP not EXTRA SHOT you dumbfucc

you offer to make him a new one and he refuses saying it’s fine!!! but you still feel bad so you insist but he’s like no!!! i gotta stay awake anyway i have an important quiz today i have to study! by the way uhhhh i’ve never seen you around until recently???

you introduce yourself and he introduce himself blablabla it’s awkward and your palms keep sweating for some reason

before wonpil left, he didn’t forget to say “have a great day!! i’ll see you around then!!!”

he’s so sweet uwu

seeing him and making him his vanilla latte (extra syrup) is one of the best parts of your job tbh

and he visits every single time you’re working which makes it better

why is his smile so adorable what the fuck

and there’s something about the way he walks that keeps you looking i mean boiiiii does he know how to present himself holy shit

that feeling when you see someone so beautiful you want to cry

the more you see him the more you want to know about him

what major is he in? what is he usually do outside the class? what kind of person is he? does he have a lot of friends? what’s his hobby? stuffs like that

too bad he always comes when it’s busy at the cafe so you can’t talk too much

neither he ever tries to initiate a conversation with you except his usual “hello! how are you today?” and “thank you, you make the best coffee! have a nice day!! see you!!!”

let’s admit it you highkey have a crush on him and EVERYONE knows

wELL it’s because you always wear that expression like "goddammit why must kim wonpil be so cute if he ain’t gonna ask me on a date” whenever you watch his back as he leaves the cafe

and EVERYONE but YOU knows wonpil’s so into you

whenever someone says something like “just ask him for his number he’ll definitely give it to you” you’re like “wtf nO that’s creepy and he won’t!! he doesn’t even know me!!!”

“he literally only comes when it’s your shift and he always makes sure you’re the one taking his order you oblivious dumbass”

“it’s just a coincidence”

“…..yeah whatever”

but they’re right wonpil’s crushing on you hard

at this point sungjin can even draw a portrait of you although he hasn’t actually met you before

that’s how much wonpil talks about you

from your whole adorable appearance to how cute your little cough is, or how he adores your little smile and the sparks in your eyes when he compliments your coffee, or he’ll describe your apron what the fuck and how he thinks your look so good in white and blue

sungjin’s so done with him

“just ask her out you stalker”

“nO I CAN’T!!! SHE’LL THINK IM CREEPY!!! SHE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW ME”

“well i bet she remembers your face by now since you always drop by when she’s there”

“but she meets a lot of people everyday there’s NO WAY she can remember me”

you see the problem now?

then one day jae decides to play matchmaker

by “playing matchmaker” i mean he follows wonpil to the cafe and straight up tells you, in front of wonpil’s face and everyone there, “yo this friend of mine wants to take you on a date and he wonders if you’re interested”

you are: blushing

wonpil is: dead pale

you: o-oh… i’m–

wonpil: yO HE’S JUST JOKING HAHAHAHA IM SO SORRY oH My gOd jAE LET’S GO

he drags his tall friend aka jae out of the cafe and since then he never visits again :(

im sad now ugh i told you i suck at sweet stuffs like this

fast forward it’s summer and the university wonpil’s attending is holding a summer festival that’s open for public

well,,,,, you decide to go and you ask some of your friends to tag along

you’re not sure what you’re hoping; maybe you just want to see how the place wonpil’s studying at looks like, or maybe you do wish to meet him by accident or something yanno like a drama

whatever

you promised yourself that if you don’t see him today, you’ll get over him

but if you do see him, you will ask. him. out.

well jokes on you babe he’s there performing on the stage with the band

he’s,,, he’s singing,,, and playing keyboard,,,, omg his voice

as you already know im uncreative soooo by impossible coincidence somehow his eyes spot you in the crowd

btw i imagine them singing Pouring but i think you can pick any songs you like

he’s so taken aback that one second he’s singing and the next second he sees you and his eyes widen and he’s like “I’m falling for–hUH? why are you here??” to the microphone

don’t worry the others cover for his mistake while trying not to laugh

everyone laughs too while looking around to find the person whom wonpil sees

you’re embarrassed as fuck you want to curl up and hide forever

but your so-called-friends don’t let you get away that easy okay it’s your only chance

dw dude wonpil feels the same he wants to immediately get off the stage and die

but sungjin will literally kill wonpil in his sleep if he doesn’t do anything it’s now or never

poor boi has had enough of this pining shit

so after the band performance wonpil has no choice but to approach you

“h-hey! so you watched our stage!”

“y-yeah! it was great!! didn’t know you can sing so well”

“h-haha thanks”

“y-you’re welcome”

silence

more silence

wonpil clears his throat and, “so…”

you blink fast, “yeah…?”

“um uhhh do you wanna see around? i can take you”

“oH of course”

What Am I Even Writing Anymore

well remember your promise earlier? about asking him out?? no???

is it too late to chicken out and forget the whole thing now

you barely know each other it’s so awkward and he looks so fine today and you really don’t wanna push him even further now but if you hesitate longer who knows someone else will ask him first and just the thought alone breaks your heart a little bit

so it’s time to grow a pair and take risks cmon dude you can do this

one

two

“anywaysijustwonderifyou'refreenextsaturday?”

wait

it was!! not!!! your voice!!!!

“huh?”

wonpil clears his throat and repeats slower, “i just wonder if you’re uhhhh free next saturday?”

o shit

o fUck YeAH

you cough a bit before answering, “y-y-yeah i guess??”

“ok um i like, have two tickets for movie if you want to come with me”

that’s like the lamest invitation and you yourself gotta admit that lmao

but oh kim wonpil,, dear,,,, there’s no way i would say no

so you two go on a date

or “casual outing” as you two call it

but everyone knows it’s a date okay even though you two didn’t have any skinskip oops

it’s okay it takes a bit of time but you’ll get there

i mean, since then you two go out together almost every weekend so ye it won’t be that long until the awkwardness wears off

wonpil just cherish you so much he’s afraid he’ll scare you or hurt your feeling by accident so he never boldly initiates anything

the first time you two finally holding hands is when you two go skating, and that’s just because you two are so bad at that

gotta hold each other so you won’t keep falling aye romance

you don’t know this but trust me wonpil talks about it for days sungjin almost decides to move out

he’s still insisting it’s not a date tho

“you know what, i can already imagine you two in like 10 years, standing at the altar and be like, do you marry me as a friend or what? unclear”

“do you think we’ll get married?????”

“oh dear god”

but yeah

you two will get there

somehow

just take your sweet time and give wonpil all the love in the world i beg you

that’s it YAY i think imma work on sungjin’s next wish me luck im running out of lame cliche ideas now lol bye

[michaelmyersmalewife]

LEVIATHAN | 14. The Coronation | MASTERLIST

words: 5k+

A/N: early chapter update because some family business came up so i'll be pretty busy for all of friday; with that aside, i cant believe we're already at this point,,,it all went by so fast and i cant wait to share the ending with you next monday !!

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Madison watched as her parents began to repair the ORCA.

It had been a long time since they had been together, and even longer since they had worked for a common purpose. It was weird, seeing them like this. It reminded her of how it was before - before they lost Andrew, when her father was sober, and before her mother lost touch with reality. They were becoming almost completely in sync, both working like crazy but somehow not getting in each other's way.

"You sure about this?" her mom asked.

"It's the only way to save him," her dad replied. "We fix it, get on the Osprey, and draw that thing away from Godzilla. Buy him time to get back on his feet."

Her dad connected a wire only to be met with a sharp snap of electricity. The ORCA's cracked screen flickered on for a second before turning back off. He cursed, looking at the device's inner workings with a confused gaze.

"Well this is new."

"I, uh, made a few changes while you were gone."

The Regulator, impatient, pushed her way through them, hands flying to work on the ORCA.

"Could you patch that cable there?" she said, eyes not leaving the jumbled mess of machinery as her mother joined her.

"And who are you?" her dad asked incredulously.

"That's not importa - no, the red one not the white!"

"Okay, okay!"

"You sure this thing is gonna work?" one of the Monarch soldiers asked.

No one bothered to answer. In fact, they were so caught up in their work that they probably hadn't even heard him. Her mother held up a piece of wire for the Regulator to solder, and Emma's hands flew straight for it like a machine.

"If you replace this five-pin, I can reset the transmitter and everything should work as normally as possible." the Regulator said.

No one had a chance to say anything in response before the ground began shaking again.

Behind them, Ghidorah was already on top of Godzilla, his heads snaking around his body. The heads at his side wrapped around him like coils while the center head bit into his neck. The other two followed suit, and with every bite Godzilla's glow grew weaker while Ghidorah's wounds closed up before vanishing completely. That was when Madison saw Ghidorah lift him up, and she could literally see the dragon absorbing the titan's life, Godzilla's internal fire glowing down all three of his throats. Godzilla let out a terrible, mournful cry. He was dying.

Hold on, big guy, she thought.

"Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast." Jodie said in a fearful tone.

"Are you good to go?" her dad asked.

The Regulator nodded. She set the solder, her mother sparked it, and her father flipped the switch.

"That's it!" he said, relief in his voice. "That's it."

Overhead, an Osprey descended toward them, floodlights illuminating the wreckage they stood amongst.

Her mom turned to her, gently holding her head in her hands and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Madison wasn't sure how to feel about the sudden act of affection, but there was too much that needed to be said, and there wasn't time for all of it.

"I love you, Maddie," her mother said. "I'm sorry."

All of the hurt, her feelings of betrayal, felt like a knot in Madison's stomach. A single sorry couldn't undo all that had been done, but it felt a little better now. It was a start.

"I love you too." she replied.

Madison knew that it was never going to be the same again. She could never go back to that kid who thought her mother had it all together, knew everything, understood what was best for everyone. No more than she thought of her father as perfect. But that was for the best, right? To finally live in reality and not some idealistic world she had created for herself.

The Osprey touched down, almost immediately her father ushered her toward it. Shortly after, Jodie and the two Monarch soldiers carried the wounded third aboard the rescue craft. Her mother held back, joining the Regulator in fiddling with the ORCA.

"C'mon, Emma, let's go!" her father shouted.

"Take her!" she yelled back, still messing with the controls. "I still have to activate it."

Her father gave her a skeptical look.

"I'm right behind you, just go!" she insisted before turning to the Regulator, the taller woman firmly grasping her wrist.

"Mom?" Madison called after her.

Before she could realize what was happening, Madison felt herself being lifted in her father's arms, suddenly finding herself coming closer to the Osprey. Over his shoulder, she saw her mom and the Regulator activate the ORCA, its heartbeat starting once again.

"Mom!"

That was when she saw the Regulator give her mother a strange look, shaking her head so lightly that Madison hardly noticed it. She mouthed something to her mother before finally she let go of the ORCA, taking a few hesitant steps backward before running toward the Osprey. Madison felt her mother's hand press itself against her back, fingers squeezing the fabric of her jacket.

In the distance, she heard a shriek. One by one Ghidorah's heads detached themselves from Godzilla, dropping his limp body to the ground and swung around, searching for the source of the sound they had come to hate. The only remaining threat to his rule.

Elena froze mid-step, just as she was about to board the Osprey.

All three of the monster's heads were trained on them, and with a terrible speed that shook the ground, he knocked down everything that was stopping him from getting to the ORCA. While they had managed to buy time for Godzilla, they were starting to run out of time themselves. Elena had already been face-to-face with this thing enough times to know that she didn't want to be in that position again. Ever. But while every inch of her body told her to run and hide, she felt nothing but hatred for the creature. Hatred and rage.

Fight it, she thought, thinking of Godzilla even though she knew there was no way for him to hear her. Madison believes in you, and goddammit so do I.

But that was when Ghidorah began to gallop, leaving buildings as nothing but piles of rubble.

"Maddie, thank god." she heard a woman with short black hair say as she lead them aboard the Osprey.

A white-haired man with glasses herded them inside before giving the pilot a thumbs-up. As they each buckled down, Elena almost did a double-take as a woman with long black hair pulled aside in a braid sat across from her, right next to the short-haired woman. They looked exactly alike, and they even seemed to mimic each other's movements. Looking around, taking a mental head count, Elena's brows furrowed.

One of them was missing. It didn't take long for her to realize it was the Regulator. Had she been left behind during the rush to be rescued?

"Hold on!" she yelled to the pilot.

Unbuckling herself, she moved to the front of the Osprey. Out of its doors, she saw that Ghidorah's pace was only quickening, more full of rage than ever. Elena's skin began to prickle.

"We gotta lift off, now." a woman in a military uniform responded. If Elena was remembering right, she wore the marks of a colonel.

The pilot obeyed the order from their superior, and the Osprey began to rise. But the Regulator still wasn't on board. Elena moved over to the door, reaching her arms out so that she could pull her up when she got there. She still wasn't moving, glued to the ORCA's side.

"Just grab it!" she yelled over the Osprey's whirring.

It was then that the Regulator's eyes met hers, and as she glanced back at the dragon barreling toward them, maws gaping and ready to tear the Osprey asunder - with them inside it - Elena had made a brutal realization.

If they stopped their lift-off to wait for her to get on board, none of them were going to make it. Even if they managed to get just a few yards off the ground, it wouldn't even matter if the ORCA was on board. Ghidorah would follow its sound wherever it went, and Elena knew that he was faster than their sorry little Osprey.

And if the ORCA was turned off, he'd follow them anyway - or rather, he'd follow her and Madison. And then he would return to finish off Godzilla.

She saw the Regulator's lips form words, she saw the smallest of smiles appear on her face. Sad and serene all at once.

Elena understood.

Walking away from the slowly closing door, she watched as the Regulator stepped into the jeep that Madison's parents had arrived in. As she drove away into the ruins of Boston, the Osprey rose higher. And as she suspected, Ghidorah turned to follow her, seemingly forgetting about the Osprey altogether.

Give him hell, she thought.

Sitting back down, Madison turned to her.

"Is she..?"

"She's setting things right."

_____

"It's alright," she said, knowing they couldn't possibly hear it over the sound of the Osprey and Ghidorah's stampede. "Just let me have this."

For so long, she had kept her feelings locked away where they could never interfere. Follow orders or be discarded. That was her life, the only life she was allowed to know. But standing in the ruins of the human city, it all came back to her with a frightening ease.

Never in her life had she had the courage - the willingness - to act. But this world, it stood apart from the other innocent planets she had been complacent in destroying. It stood a chance. And she'd be damned if she wasted the opportunity to right her wrongs, no matter the cost.

She saw Elena nod with that same serious face she always wore, brows knit together. Only this time, she bore a lopsided smile as a look a realization grew on her face.

Though no words had been exchanged, the Regulator had seen the same thought in Emma's eyes, but it was something she couldn't allow. She couldn't imagine being the one to live while someone who had been tricked so deviously into an unforgivable crime was the one to die. It was just the next logical step. She knew no one would stop her. Why would they? Up until then she was just another pawn in the Controller's game, a little toy soldier that could easily be replaced. And she was perfectly fine with the thought of dying. She had found a purpose, something she had chosen to do on her own terms.

She just wished she could've thanked Elena for that opportunity.

Taking the ORCA into her hands, she rushed to the car parked just outside where Madison's house had been. Laying the humming machine on the passenger seat, she started the engine and slammed her foot on the gas.

Taking a quick glance back, she saw that her plan was working. Ghidorah had taken a sharp turn, dismissing the Osprey and coming directly after her. His eyes shined in the dark, his usual draconic smirks replaced with furiously bared teeth.

Not this time, she thought. Never again.

She didn't know how far she would get, but she hoped that it would be far enough. The Osprey was already close to vanishing under the cover of smoke and ash that wafted through the air and into the clouds. Hoping that it would be enough was all she could do at that point.

But none of that would matter if Godzilla didn't wake up.

Was he dead? The last she had seen of him, he hadn't been moving, limp like a three-hundred-foot ragdoll. If he was, there was nothing they could do. Ghidorah was unstoppable - not even the Controller had power over the dragon. At the very least, if Elena and the rest survived, maybe they could find some way to stop him from tearing the world apart. Even though a part of her knew she wouldn't be around to see it all carried out. But she was undoing some part of the terrible damage she had allowed to take place, and though it couldn't possibly atone for the countless worlds before this, it was the most she could do. And that was alright with her.

The Regulator dodged piles of rubble, swerving down roads that weren't blocked by what used to be buildings, trying to stretch the time was surely running out.

She couldn't stop herself from looking out of the car's mirror, and just as she sped down a narrow path of skyscrapers she saw him. He was right behind her, no more than a meter or two away. His trilling shook her bones, and with each thud from his galloping the car jumped a few inches off of the ground. He was getting faster, as his middle head stretched farther from between his brothers and snapped his jaws at the car, barely missing her by mere feet.

Spinning the wheel, she went careening down a pile of burning debris before entering a flattened area. It was the end of the line.

At that moment, Ghidorah pounced into the air, wings kicking up smoldering rubble and knocking over a building with one misplaced flap of his wings as he hovered close behind. Her face bunched up into an expression of pure frustration as she pushed the pedal all the way down.

As he glided, the left head shot a bolt of lightning her way, striking the pavement just beside her. With an annoyed shriek, the right head tried next, toppling over the top half of a skyscraper as it fell right in front of her. She didn't have the chance to swerve out of the way as the middle head opened his jaws, sending a bolt of yellow lightning directly at the small, banged-up car that scrambled down the blocked road like a trapped mouse.

Everything flashed white.

The Regulator closed her eyes, let go of the wheel, and took a deep breath as a pain unlike anything she had ever felt jolted through her body, twisting every nerve and lighting up her skin like a match. It was like being shot with one of the stunners dialed to a hundred.

But the agony didn't last long. As it faded, she felt herself spin along with the car, rolling, bounding until finally it became propped against something. All she could hear was the sound of fire crackling all around her and the beat of Ghidorah's wings.

Opening her eyes, she found that she had been completely thrown from the car, pieces of glass and gravel imbedded in her skin. Not that it meant much to her. Everything was hurting, but everything was numb at the same time. But that was alright. It was just fine. Rolling over, she stared up at the Golden Demise that crouched low to where she lay, sniffing and snarling.

His signature sneer was back, something self-righteous and proud glinting in all of his eyes. But there was nothing about him that could frighten her in that moment, for there was nothing else he could possibly do to her.

Behind him, her eyes could barely make out a reddish-orange glow growing in intensity from behind him. It was different from the burning city around her. It was alive. Setting her head back down on the gravel, she smiled.

"Long..live....the king." she breathed.

Time to restore balance.

_____

As the Osprey rose above the battlefield, Jodie's gaze tracked the jeep where the strange woman inside vanished behind the thick cover of smoke or piles of debris before reappearing.

She hadn't known who she was, but she had seen her face somewhere before. It didn't quite click with her where at first, but as she watched the little car race out from behind a crushed building, it suddenly came to her. She was the merc that from Antarctica, the one that was holding an unconscious Elena. Why she had a sudden change of heart, she didn't know. But she did know that she had helped Madison and Elena, and that was enough for her to silently cheer her on.

That is, until Ghidorah swooped down on her like a hammer, blasting the jeep with his lightning. Energy wracked all around it, and the car went flying. After seeing Ghidorah drop low to the ground, heads slithering toward where the jeep had stopped, Jodie looked away.

"Jesus," Stanton exclaimed, pointing over her shoulder. "Look."

She didn't want to turn back to the inevitable demise of some stranger, but something about his tone made her eyes follow to where he was pointing. Jodie suppressed a gasp, hand flying to cover her mouth.

She was half-expecting to see Godzilla rising from the crater, but instead it was something else, something smaller but far, far faster than the old lizard ever was. Hovering low, wings pressed flat against his body as he dove, was Rodan.

Like a flurry of dancing flames, he burst out the side of a building, barreling into Ghidorah at full force and knocking him off of his path. With a screech, he swooped up, spreading his wings as he came back around like a boomerang.

Ghidorah was on his full defensive now, heads swiveling around to prepare for another attack. His left head wasn't so lucky, as Rodan flared his talons, digging into the dragon's head and hooking himself onto his horns. The left head let out a shriek as the flying reptile's claws dug into his eyes before the right and center heads focused their lightning into a concentrated beam of energy, shooting the firebird square in the chest.

He drew back, landing on the top of a half-demolished building. Squinting through the smoke, Jodie saw that the injury he had obtained during his tussle with Mothra was still glowing, but not even that stopped him from going back at the dragon. The center head let loose another bolt while the left thrashed in pain, trilling and screaming as his brothers fought in his stead.

Stretching out his neck to take a bite out of Rodan's leg, he dodged, weaving out of the way before he banked hard, aiming for the right head like a ravenous hawk. Ghidorah was fast, but Rodan was faster. With one quick swoop, his talons found purchase on the right head's snout, digging deep into his mouth and clawing up toward his eyes. But he couldn't get far, as he felt the center head's teeth wrap around his leg.

With one strong tug, the center head ripped Rodan from his attack, throwing him into a building, shattered glass cascading down on both of them.

Ghidorah looked down at the bird with a burning fury, lightning building in their necks as the center head nipped at his brothers, tugging the left one by his horns to correct his aim. As each of their maws opened for the finishing blow, Jodie saw something.

It was far behind the dragon, but the space where Godzilla's body lay was now an empty crater, smoking pouring from the ignited rubble within. Jodie stood up, bracing one arm against the Osprey's half-open door.

"There.." she found herself muttering, too wrapped up in the scene playing out before her.

Everyone's gaze followed to where she was pointing. Behind her, Madison was leaning out of her seat with wide eyes.

Massively wounded, Godzilla had pulled himself up and out of the crater, staggering toward Ghidorah as the dragon prepared to take out the already injured titan below him. His steps were slow, uncertain, but as he waded through the remains of Boston his strides built up in strength. And as he regained his power, he was glowing a bright red now, pulsing with an inner radiance that leaked through his scales like lava, light spilling from his eyes as if his body was the core of a star about to go supernova. All around him, everything within his immediate radius began to melt, the heat waves coming off of his body distorting the air around him. Rearing his head back, Godzilla roared.

Madison had thought she had seen true power back in Antarctica, when Ghidorah had first awakened with all the bottled rage of an angry god. But looking at Godzilla, the dragon seemed far from powerful. Finally, she heard his voice right at the front of her mind, and she couldn't help but grin.

Checkmate, asshole

It was then that Ghidorah's center head whipped around, hissing as the rest of his brothers turned their attention to the massive heatwave behind them. Rodan took his chance to slip out from under his talons, flapping his wings to get as high into the air as he could.

With an insulted trill, Ghidorah's middle head spit out a stream of lightning, but the titan just took it, hardly even flinching. He continued stomping forward, the bright red pulsing around him growing brighter and stronger. The dragon backed away, taking a single tentative step back as Godzilla's pace was unimpeded. Ghidorah, unwilling to back down completely, let out three simultaneous shrieks, flaring their horns in defiance as his necks struck out like snakes.

Despite his wounds, the titan never slowed, only stopping to curl into himself as the pulsing around him grew so bright Madison thought he was about to explode. And in a way, he did. The scutes on his back crackled with light, blue streaks mixing with the thermonuclear red. The pulses running up and down his spine became so fast they were blinding. She had to shield her eyes when the pulses condensed, expanding into a massive wave of radioactive energy.

For a brief second, squinting through the light that filtered between her fingers, Madison could have sworn she saw something within the wave, something like gossamer wings flying out of Godzilla's back and toward Ghidorah. Mothra's chittering cry echoed in the back of her mind.

The wave phased through Ghidorah, knocking him down as it burned straight through the thin flesh of his wings as if they were nothing but paper. In a single moment the dragon's wings had been stripped down to the bone. Ghidorah let out an agonizing scream.

On his back, he braced himself up, focusing all three heads on the titan that still lumbered ever closer and letting loose three concentrated beams of lightning. But that did nothing to stop him, if anything, it was only fueling him.

Godzilla released another wave of radiation, and as it expanded around them, the center head recoiled, the screams of his brothers filling the air as the left head was stripped of his scales, sinew and muscle burning away until there was nothing left but bone. The right head disintegrated completely, wilting like a flower from Godzilla's atomic radiance. Their cries died out in an instant as Ghidorah slumped to the ground, writhing like a snake. It was odd, seeing the dragon so small compared to Godzilla. Ghidorah's remaining head screamed.

Taking a step forward, Godzilla's foot collided with his chest, caving it in as the bomb within the titan set off, creating a blinding dome of light over what was once Boston.

Madison's eyes slammed shut as she felt her parents shield her from the light, desperately hoping that they were out of range. As the shock wave from the blast expanded, the Osprey rattled something within the craft sparking and nearly shutting off before starting again, getting swept up into a thermal and continuing its retreat. Everything was still a little shaky, but at least they weren't dead.

Godzilla? Madison opened her eyes.

She was greeted with a mushroom cloud lifting from the skyline, or what remained of it. Gradually, the cloud began to lift before clearing below. Through the smoke, she could see that almost all of Boston was gone, a wasteland of charred ruins. Streets were burning, the steel beams that held up its skyscrapers were twisted and melted.

Her eyes narrowed, trying to discern where exactly the two titans were only to find no sign of either. Had they been destroyed? She could still feel his connection, it was waning just a bit, but it was there. He had to have made it. He had to.

Then, something shifted beneath the wreckage, something big. As the thing emerged, Madison waited for Godzilla's signature dorsal spines, but instead a pair of golden horns appeared, followed by a draconic face. Her stomach dropped.

Ghidorah's head continued to rise from the smoke, further and further until she saw something..weird. His neck didn't look right, as it wasn't the slender serpentine neck she was used to. It was then that she understood, as Godzilla rose above the ruins with Ghidorah's only remaining head in his mouth.

Madison flinched when the dragon's eyes snapped open, seeming to stare just past her. Following his gaze, she saw Elena. The two were locked in one last stare-down. The woman felt a sharp chill run down her spine, but she stared back, jaw tightening as she watched him desperately try to wriggle free from Godzilla's jaws. Shaking it like an alligator would, Godzilla shook the head from side to side until a familiar blue glow built up in his mouth. The whirring from his atomic breath grew quicker and quicker until Ghidorah's entire head was glowing electric blue. With one last trill, Ghidorah's head was ripped apart as the titan's fire erupted through him and into the air.

As the blast died out, Godzilla jittered, shaking his head as a little bolt of lightning crackled in his mouth. He turned his head toward the Osprey.

Told ya everything would be fine, Madison heard him say.

She tried to hide the smile forming along her face. No one else in the Osprey seemed as amused.

Godzilla had won. They had one. But the world was changed forever. So many cities had been left in ruins, and even more people had died. Despite feeling a glimmer of relief, Madison knew that things weren't just going to bounce back to the way they were. Maybe they never would.

But maybe that was as it should be.

If her mother was right, and with Ghidorah gone, the world could rebuild. The places ravaged by titans would flourish, and maybe someday the smoking remains of Boston would become a sprawling forest. She found herself not minding that at all.

Though, she had to admit, she hadn't wanted it to happen this way. But there was no going back now. It was the dawn of a new world, or the return of a very old one. Hopefully, she thought as she huddled closer to her parents, resting her head on her father's shoulder, they could all find out how they fit into this new era. Together.

Jodie jumped, relaxing after finding that it was Gill who had bumped her arm with her own. She gave her a half-smile, reaching for her hand. Smiling back, she grabbed it, squeezing as they stared at the morning sun poking out from the horizon.

Seeing Godzilla silhouetted by its rays, she thought back to what Chen had said about dragons and redemption. Maybe there was something to that. Sure, they might still have a long way to go to reach the coexistence from Serizawa's vision, but something about this battle felt like a reset. A new start.

"Good thing he's on our side." Stanton remarked.

"For now." Chen replied.

Madison bristled at that comment. He wouldn't turn on them, right? She knew that humans haven't exactly had the best history with Godzilla, but he had fought on their side.

Right?

"Look.." she whispered, unsure if she had said it out loud or to the lizard.

As the smoke faded away into the wind, everyone in the Osprey saw what had grabbed the girl's attention. Even Godzilla seemed to turn to where she was pointing.

Behind him was another titan, one that resembled a cross between a woolly mammoth and a ground sloth, complete with long, sweeping tusks that hung low to the ground. It was ambling slowly, and nothing about it seemed aggressive. Blowing out a puff of air from his nostrils, Godzilla continued to turn as two other titans - one with six long legs and the other resembling a bull with a mountain on its back - continued stalking toward him as well.

But there was more.

Jodie recognized them all, or at least most of them. A hunchbacked MUTO was ambling toward the group, followed by a flock of leafwings native to Skull Island. And quickly gaining on the herd was a Titanus Anguirus, Mokele-Mbembe, Kumonga, Sekhmet, Varan, Kamacuras...dozens of titans with names she couldn't remember fast enough all converging in one place. It struck her as odd. Ghidorah must have called them in, but his cavalry was much too late. Godzilla's gaze roamed over them all as he continued to turn, taking them all in. Sizing them up.

Then, Rodan had swung back around, having saved himself from Godzilla's meltdown. He landed before him, letting out a screech as his wings outstretched toward Godzilla. The firebird didn't sound defeated, or afraid. It almost sounded like he was genuflecting. Like he was in the presence of royalty.

But Godzilla didn't seem too trusting, and rightfully so.

Battered and bruised, the titan was still ready to fight. Letting out a hot puff of air from his nostrils, he snarled. Rodan seemed taken aback, pausing for a moment before laying his wings on the ground in submission. He was bowing.

And one by one, the other titans followed suit, each bowing in their own way.

The sun's first rays filtered from behind him, almost seeming to cast him in a golden halo of light.

This planet does not belong to us, Jodie thought, watching as the titans welcomed their new king. It was something she often heard among her peers, a quote from one of Monarch's earliest founding members - Bill Randa. And now, looking out at the primordial scene before her, she couldn't agree more.

"This is Godzilla's world." Jodie said. "We just live in it."

Godzilla threw back his head and roared until the heavens shook.

[ketzwrites]

Rewatch 112: Malec

Love. That’s it. That’s the comment.

No, of course it isn’t.

Teaser

I’m still surprised by how neatly Jace and Clary’s arrival with the Mortal Cup tied things up, but hey, let’s get right to the wedding, then.

We’re underserved when it comes to Jace and Izzy interactions and this one is as impersonal as they come. I want some follow through on Alec saying Izzy is his sister, not his and Jace’s. I want Izzy talking to Jace about his finding out he is Valentine and Jocelyn’s son. Anything more than this bland “Jace is angry, Izzy is not.”

Act One

Clary seems at peace now that Jocelyn is safe. Not happy, of course, but her tone of voice is calmer, more centered. Good acting on Kat’s part in a season she is mostly known for butchering.

Funny how Alec and Clary were smiling at each other and, you know, having a sort-of-friendship in this season only for the writers to go “nope, Alec is back to completely and only hating her” on the start of the next one.

Now, I don’t get this move on Magnus’ part. In their last conversation, he tried to talk Alec out of sacrificing himself. Alec didn’t listen. Now Magnus is… seducing him out of sacrificing himself? Why is Magnus this invested in Alec? I’m glad he is, but why?

Magnus says he will not ask again, but then there is never a scene in which Magnus asks Alec what his choice is. There is only Magnus being passive-aggressive.

Why doesn’t Clary tell Simon she and Jace are siblings? By what she says in this phone call, it sounds like they had a fight. Good thing Simon knows what’s going on.

Jace and Clary are so awkward. I love it.

Interesting how Magnus protests Ragnor being the list, but not Catarina or Tessa. It’s purely Magnus being an ass to his friend.

Alec and Magnus are so awkward. I love it. Still don’t understand why Magnus would act entitled to Alec’s love like this, but I love it.

Awkward exposition delivery by extraordinarily pretty Izzy. I see you, Ed Decter. Good move.

Alec’s jokes are so underrated. Platinum, Turning over a new leaf, Sisters can really drive you nuts sometimes. All very witty, all deserve more recognition.

When you first watched this scene, could you imagine that Jace was right? Jocelyn really didn’t want her son Jonathan. Well, that Jonathan wasn’t Jace, but the point is: Jocelyn really is the asshole that Jace paints her to be. Valentine didn’t even have to lie about that.

Act Two

I honestly see Jace’s discomfort in discussing his feelings for Clary as being nauseated by the notion that he fancied his sister. Not an “I still love her, so I feel bad”. A “how could I think I was in love with my sister?”

Why is the fire green? Because it’s a wink to Ragnor being green in the books. It has to be because green fire on green grass looks awful.

Subtle changes in your eyes? Subtle? Also, if Jocelyn and Ragnor met in the early 90s while they lived in Idris, that means they met while Jocelyn was a Circle Member. Why is Ragnor on her side??

I love how the characters say “the Book of the White”. Everyone says it like it like it’s one word “debukofdewyt”. I also love the friendship between Magnus and Ragnor.

I wish we’d seen something that warned us Jace, Clary, and Magnus were being followed. It would make Ragnor’s death less sudden and, thus, less ridiculous. A warlock considered more powerful than Magnus shouldn’t die out of the attack of one Shax demon.

Act Three

How does Izzy still think the people in Institute are her family when they sat and watched in silence that farce of a trial almost derune and exile her?

Question: if Lydia is Head of the Institute, wouldn’t they have to run the mission to Ragnor Fell through her anyway? In fact, wouldn’t they need her permission? I’m just saying, anyone with high enough access could’ve learned about this mission from looking at the files. We know the mole was Hodge, but it’s a possibility that Jace, Clary, and Izzy should’ve entertained.

There’s no way Lydia would “slip up” with the way Clary conducted that conversation. It’s almost as if Clary doesn’t think Lydia is guilty and just wants to give her a Shovel Talk on behalf of Alec.

“Alec’s love for his family and his desire to restore the Lightwood name have touched me in ways I haven’t felt in a long time” is so uncomfortable to hear coming from a straight woman about to marry a gay man.

Simon ordering around vamps and borrowing Raphael’s clothes is so confusing to me. Does that mean he and Raphael are friends now? Friendly? Is Simon fitting in? What is this?

Regardless, the first instance of Izzy and Simon being friends.

I still don’t get if Ragnor’s apparition is supposed to be magic or if it’s supposed to be a figment of Magnus’ imagination.

Goddammit. I don’t care about Alec and Jace’s friendship. I have no idea what their relationship was before Clary showed up – or rather, the little that I know comes from Simon saying that Jace treats Alec like a lap dog, Izzy defending Alec from Jace, and Jace saying that Alec would die for him. None of that makes me want Alec and Jace to be friends the way they were before.

Okay. I’m not on board of Alec equating his feelings for Magnus to Jace’s feelings for Clary in this context. They are talking about a normal love between two men equated to romantic love between siblings. Those things are not equivalent and that should’ve been pointed out.

What I am on board with is Alec hijacking the conversation and shifting it from Clary to Magnus and Jace going along with it. This is the first and only conversation Jace and Alec have about Alec’s feelings.

Act Four

I absolutely love this scene with Magnus and Ragnor. The only way to make it better would be to link this conversation about love to Magnus grieving for his lost friend.

Maryse being proud of Alec in these circumstances breaks my heart.

Simon’s little smirk over catching Jace staring makes him look like a douche. Congrats, man. The girl you like isn’t in a relationship anymore because she and her boyfriend found out they are both kids of a psychotic blood supremacist who messed up her boyfriend’s mental health. How fortunate for you.

The Malec Kiss. Enough said. Okay, just one thing. I’m glad Magnus didn’t burst in saying he objected to the wedding. He walks in as if he’s just coming to the ceremony and seems genuinely surprised it has already begun. Then, it’s Alec that takes the opportunity and puts an end to this madness.

Act Five

The order of reactions immediately after Alec’s coming out: Magnus. Maryse and Robert. Izzy. Simon??

I’m not going to lie. I shipped Lydia and Jace the first time I saw this scene. I did.

I adore this shot of Magnus’ hand and the objects burning into existence. And the fact that Magnus’ presence in the Institute continues to miraculously make Alec lose pieces of clothing. First, it was his shirt, now it’s his jacket.

So, nobody questions Clary about the Alternate Dimension? Neither Magnus nor Alec has any reason to have known she went there.

Again, I wish there was more of a build-up to an attack on Lydia. Someone following her. We could even learn it was Hodge here. Maybe he pretends to go check on her and then attacks her? Just something so this doesn’t come out of nowhere like this.

Act Six

When I first read the books, I read “JC” in Portuguese in my mind. “Jota Cê.” That’s very different from “Jay Cee”. I don’t know if I would have caught that Jace = JC had I read it in English. I kind of want it to be mentioned earlier in the show just to be dismissed like “Jonathan Christopher was a very common name at the time” or something like that, but I understand the dramatic value of having Jace make the connection now.

Not to be that person, but Jonathan’s hair is in that box. Izzy is a forensic scientist. She could’ve done a simple DNA test to check if the famously manipulative Valentine was telling the truth.

Just as with Alec and Jace’s friendship, I never saw enough darkness in Jace to believe it when he says it has always been there. Arrogant? Yes. Emotionally constipated? Definitely. Evil? Nope. Not the guy who warned Simon about Izzy’s cooking, that studied the Seelies culture, that risk everything for a girl he was crushing on.

Alec standing up to his parents is a delight. Funny how Maryse was the clear villain while Robert is the more sympathetic parent. Not going to call him all the way supportive, but he at least tried to understand what was going on. Also, the little interactions between Alec and Magnus. sdsa;ksk my heart.

Yes. This exchange between Hodge and Luke. This is what Hodge should’ve done with Lydia. By now, we’d be watching Hodge in action and yelling for Luke not to go. Though, there is no reason for Hodge to invoke Valentine in the middle of the training room. That’s kind of a public place in the Institute. You’d think he would be more careful.

[sis-tafics]

My Story

Summary: Jensen goes through the hardest day of his life.

Characters: Reader, Jensen

Pairings: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 3500

Warnings:  PLEASE READ THESE- Death, Angst, loss of a child during pregnancy, mentions of trouble getting pregnant, mentions of a previous stillborn. Jensen’s POV

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading. This is both for Kari’s ( @thing-you-do-with-that-thing ) 9.5K British Song Challenge. My song was Small Bump by Ed Sheeran and Steph’s ( @torn-and-frayed ) Gif Challenge

This is unbetaed, all mistakes are mine

It’s been a long ass day filming, the trailer nap didn’t cut it and I can’t wait to get home. Pulling out my phone, I look at the sonogram snapshot on my phone, the one Y/N had sent me earlier from the appointment I’d missed, and I can’t help but smile as Cliff drives and bitches about the traffic, Jared talking to Gen in the other seat.

She’s so tiny, her profile defined and damn she’s got her mother’s nose. Five more months, five more months until I get to meet our baby girl. I’m so pissed I missed the appointment an hour ago, but Jared had been provoking Mish and the scene had taken way longer than expected. I couldn’t exactly tell them why I needed to go, Y/N and I haven’t told anyone yet. We’ve spent the better part of three years trying, had one stillborn, and a handful of false readings. Even though we are four months in, it doesn’t seem real.

I’m heading home. See you soon baby

It was just this last checkup and we were finally going to tell our friends and family. We really don’t have much choice, Y/N is just starting to show, and pretty soon she won’t be able to hide it. And anyways, so far so good. Every appointment so far, everything has been normal, and Y/N had texted me right away and told me everything went great this time too.

“Jensen, I hope you didn’t tell Y/N you were on your way, there’s an accident up ahead and it is going to be awhile.”

“Too late,” I chuckle, tossing the phone on the seat, staring out the window. She won’t mind anyways, I’m sure she’s just making it there herself, and we aren’t going anywhere tonight, just ordering in and spending the weekend together.

The SUV creeps up by the flashing lights of the cop cars and the ambulances on the six lane, the officers directing traffic to the far lane and around, trying to keep rush hour traffic moving.

I glance down and realize I left my phone unlocked, the picture still up. Jared sees it and snatches it off the seat.

“Give it back,” I try to get it out of his hands but he pushes me away.

“Is this...Is Y/N-?”

I swallow hard, “We haven’t told anyone yet… Not after what happened last time.”

Our first baby had been fine for awhile and then right after the six month mark, they couldn’t find a heartbeat. It had almost destroyed us. We’d only been married for about a year at that point, she’d shut herself off. She had to deliver and I couldn’t get a word out of her for weeks and weeks, I wasn’t much better. It really fucked us up for awhile, but we came out of it stronger than before.

Jared hands my phone back to me, “Congrats man.”

“Thanks, just don’t tell her I told you,” I chuckle.

“I won’t say a word.”

“Yeah right,” I smile, looking at the picture again, “You can’t keep a secret to save your life. Gen will know in five minutes.”

He laughs, his whole body shaking as he looks out the window, “Hey, it’s a good thing you aren’t driving, this car looks like your Dodge.”

My heart leaps into my throat, jumping; Y/N’s Impala was in the shop, she’d driven my car to her appointment today.

As we pass the crash a Dodge is demolished, smoking, it looks like a fucking pretzel. It can’t be her, but my heart keeps thumping in my chest and then it stops completely, seeing the anti possession decal on the bumper. She’d gotten us matching ones as a kinda inside joke.

“Cliff, stop the fucking car,” and I’m halfway out the door before he can, running through the open lane towards the accident. It feels like I’m running through mud, the smoke of the burning oil and gas clogging the air as the firefighters put out the last of it.

Hands grab me, stopping me in my tracks, “Sir, I’m going to need you to get back in your vehicle.”

I look over at him, shaking my head, seeing other officers heading over.

“Sir-”

“That is my fucking vehicle, my wife was driving it. That’s my-”

His hands drop, waving the others off, “I’m going to need you to calm down.”

“Where’s my wife...Y/N!” I look around frantically, where is she, she’s gotta be okay, her and the baby have gotta be okay, “Y/N!”

The officer tries to grab me and I shove him off, heading towards the wreck, panicking. There is a pickup that barely looks touched a little ways back and another car that spun out, hitting the median. No, no, no.

“Jensen,” Jared grabs me and spins me around.

“Y/N, she-” I can’t find the words.

“Jensen, they took her to the hospital, the ambulance already left. Let’s get back in the car and get there so we can figure out what’s going on.”

“Jared-”

“C’mon man, let’s get you out of here,” he pulls me towards the SUV.

I let him guide me, unable to think of anything but her. No, this can’t be happening.

The hospital is ten minutes away but that feels like years, time passing too slowly as I try to picture her face but can’t for some reason, the thought of the sonogram creeping in every time I think of her. They have to be alright, they need to be alright. I can’t go through that again, and I can’t lose Y/N.

Cliff pulls the SUV in front of the ER doors and Jared tries to follow me as I sprint in the doors, right up to the desk, “My wife was brought here…”

The lady looks up, holding her finger up for me to wait as she talks on the phone.

“Goddammit!” I shout, shoving papers off the desk, sending them flying, “Hang up your damn phone I need to know what’s going on with my wife, she was in a car crash.”

“Sir I’m going to need you to-.”

“No!” I yell, “Fuck that, I need to know if she’s okay. Her name is Y/N Ackles, she was brought in in the last half hour, now tell me where my wife is!”

“Come with me please,” an older woman in scrubs that was sitting farther down the station stands up and motions for me to follow her.

I nod, “Where’s my wife?”

“I’ll take you to her,” she smiles, but it isn’t really there, it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Please,” I swallow hard, feeling the tears sting the corners of my eyes, fuck, I’m so scared.

“It’s okay honey, just walk with me, we are going upstairs,” she waits for me to catch up to her, leading the way towards the elevators.

“Is she alive?” I whisper.

“I’m going to take you up to surgery and see if I can get someone to talk to you that knows more.”

“Is she alive?” I ask again, quieter, jumping when the elevator beeps.

“As far as I know yes,” she gets in the elevator and hits the button for floor eleven.

“What about our baby?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry, they will know more upstairs.”

The floors click by- two, three, four, five...It’s too slow and with every floor the rotting feeling in my gut gets worse. If I just would have told them I had to go I would have been with her, this might not have happened.

The doors open at floor eleven and I let her out before me, and now instead of rushing and feeling like everything around me is moving too slow it feels like the world is rushing and I’m stuck here standing even though somehow my feet are carrying me forward.

She talks to another nurse behind the counter, gesturing towards me as I look around, there are people sitting in chairs, people flying through the halls, pushing gurneys and yelling numbers and orders. The place smells like fucking death and bleach.

“Come on honey let’s get you set up in the waiting room.”

“I thought you were going to take me to see her.”

“The nurse said she is still in surgery, she’s with Dr. Hanson, she’s in good hands. As soon as he can, he will come and find you.”

“But-”

She touches my arm, “There is nothing you can do but be here for her. Can I get you anything?”

I shake my head, trying like hell to stop the tears as she leads me to a room full of chairs. There is one other woman sitting in here, sobbing. I take a chair as far away from her as I can, resting my elbows on my knees, rubbing my face, I still can’t believe this is happening. Why is this happening?

I can’t think, I need to know if she’s okay, I need to know if they are okay and I’m not going to get answers anytime soon.

“Hey bud,” Jared slides into the seat across from me, “did they tell you anything?”

I shake my head, brushing the tear off my cheek, “Nurse couldn’t tell me anything other than she is in surgery. They didn’t even tell me what was wrong. Fuck.” I run my hands over my face, pressing as hard as I can, “Fuck.”

“I’m sure she’s fine, Y/N’s tough.”

“Yeah, yeah...I know. Did you find out what happened?”

Jared nods, “Yeah, I talked to one of the cops I found after you ran off. The truck hit her, they think the guy was texting and driving, went across his lane, another and into hers and ran her into the median. He was life flighted here.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I snap, “This happened because some asshole couldn’t put his damn phone down? I’m going to fucking kill him if he isn’t dead already.”

“Easy,” he puts his hands up, “let’s just worry about Y/N first.”

“Y/N,” I whisper, almost whine and bury my face in my hands, trying like hell to hold it together. Not knowing is the absolute worst part, my mind is going crazy, but I know they would have told me if she was already dead, there’s still gotta be hope, there has to be. I  can’t do this without her.

The minutes tick by into hours, people come and go, Jared leaves for awhile, comes back with coffees and is gone again. I can’t blame him, this place is awful, filled with people finding out the fates of their loved ones and I’m still sitting here waiting.

I think about her smile, about when we first started dating. She’s weird and quirky in the best way possible, always saying random shit that makes me laugh. That’s not what made me want to marry her though, what really did me in was the love I could always feel radiating off of her, her passion, her strength.

“Mr. Ackles?” A voice cuts through my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I stand up quickly, closing the distance to the man in the blood covered scrubs.

“I’m Dr. Hanson, I’ve been working on your wife-”

I swallow, “How is she doc? Is the baby alright?”

His face doesn’t show any emotion and I don’t know what to expect, “Your wife came in in critical condition, she had a lot of damage to her organs, broken ribs, severe burns on her arms, but what we’ve been working on is her brain, there was a significant amount of hemorrhaging and swelling. We’ve done what we can for now, but only time will tell. The one big thing is she is breathing on her own.”

“She’s alive?”

He grimaces, “For now, but Mr. Ackles I have to be quite frank, it’s going to take a miracle for her to survive the night. Unless the swelling in her brain goes down, best case she will be alive but will not have any brain function.”

“She’ll be brain dead?” No, I can’t lose her, I won’t.

“Yes.”

I close my eyes, rubbing my face, trying like hell to keep it together, “The baby?”

“I’m so sorry, we tried everything we could but your wife was losing blood too fast and she sustained injuries that were fatal to the fetus. We lost the heartbeat about an hour into surgery.”

“It’s not a fucking fetus, it’s our baby!” I growl, the surge of anger and loss rushing through me.  I can’t look at him, turning away, grabbing the closest chair and tossing it across the room into the wall. Not again, please God don’t let this be happening again, I can’t get through this without her, “No!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jared comes rushing up to me, grabbing my forearms, trying to keep me from doing any more damage to the waiting room and scaring the shit out of the few people there.

“Jare-” I choke, unable to process this. I thought if it ever happened again, if we ever lost another baby I would know how to deal with it, but nothing could have prepared me for this, nothing.

I turn back to the doctor, “I want to see her, I n-need to.”

“I can take you to her, she’s out of surgery.”

I follow him down the incredibly empty and brightly lit halls, and it’s like I know what’s going on but I don’t understand. My chest hurts, and I feel like I’m going to throw up everywhere and everything feels stiff and it’s hard to move. My feet carry me, but my brain doesn’t follow Dr. Hanson. All I can think about is my wife, my wife and our little girl.

He stops in front of a door, “I’m going to give you a couple minutes and then I can answer any questions that you have.”

He holds the door open for me, and I walk in, fuck. She’s laying here, her head wrapped in white gauze, hooked up to tubes.

“No,” I walk up to her side, her face bruised and cut, stitches across her cheekbone, “No sweetheart.”

I run my fingers over her hand gently, scared to death that I’m going to hurt her. She feels colder than normal and I guess it’s all this shit they are pumping into her.

“Goddammit Y/N, I’m so sorry,” I should have been there, I should have been driving, the otherside of the car had barely been touched, she would have been fine.

My whole body shudders as the sob wracks through me, she can’t be here like this. The shouldn’t be her.

“Fuck,” I hiss, wiping away the tears angrily. She can pull through this, she has to pull through this. Y/N’s tough, hell, she’s put up with me for five years.

On the table beside her there are some of her belongings, it must have been what she had in her pockets when they brought her in. Her phone is laying there, perfectly intact. I pick it up.

“J-Jensen?” Her voice breaks through the quiet and I shove the phone in my pocket. Her voice makes my heart swell in my chest, the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Hey, hey, I’m right here baby,” I take her hand.

She blinks, looking around, confused, trying to get up, “Jensen? Where? W-What?

“Hold on, take it easy,” I push her back down gently, “You’re in the hospital.”

Her face falls, her hand tearing away from mine and moving to her stomach, her eyes widening and my heart breaks. I open my mouth, but words don’t come out, how do I tell her? How can I?

But I don’t have to, the tears start streaming down her face and she lets out a choked sob, looking away from me.

“Y/N?”

She looks back at me, her eyes glistening, “Jensen, I’m sorry, I’m so s-sorry.”

“Oh sweetheart, it’s not your fault,” I cup her chin, pressing my lips against her cheek, “it’s not your fault baby, it’s that asshole that ran into you.”

She shakes, sobbing harder.

I don’t know what to do, how to comfort her, how to fix this. Then I realize there is no way I can, because even though I’m suffering I have her, I can do this with her, but I’m not a mom, it’s not the same, I’ll never know what that feels like.

Her head rolls to the side as she looks at me, but she doesn’t say anything. Her eyes are so sad, lost and she’s trying like hell to hold it together.

“Jensen,” she whispers, her voice helpless and high pitched, “I-I-I…”

Her head snaps back and the monitors start beeping like crazy, but one screams louder than the rest, a constant beep with no change in tone, “Y/N? Y/N!”

Shit, no, she’s fine, she was just talking to me, “Hey! I need help! Hey!”

People in scrubs come rushing in, Dr. Hanson with them, yelling back and forth as they flatten the bed and start doing compressions. All I get are bits and pieces as I back up against the wall.

“Flatlining.”

“Charge.”

“Clear.”

“No pulse.”

“Charge.”

“Clear.”

“One more time.”

“Clear.”

“Nothing.”

“Call it.”

“Time of death 20:52.”

I don’t know where I’m going but I can’t stay here, my feet taking me down the hall, away from her. She’s gone, everything is gone. Nothing matters.

Jared is standing in the waiting room, but I walk right by him, down the hallway a little before I can’t move anymore, leaning up against the wall, breaking down and falling apart. I punch the wall, the tile not moving but at least I feel something and I do it again, my knuckles cracking.

“Excuse me.”

I look over and there is a man leaning on his crutches, his face bruised but that’s it.

“What?” I snap.

He swallows, unable to look me in the eyes and I know. This is the fucker that hit her, that killed her and my baby.

“You son of a bitch,” I grab him up by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the wall, my fist colliding with his face again and again, “you fucking killed them.”

He doesn’t fight me as I hit him again and again.

“Stop!” A woman’s voice screams, “Stop!”  

Hands grab my forearm, and I try to shake it off but then I see the woman that was crying in the waiting room earlier, “Please stop.”

I drop him, not saying a word as I back away, turning and rushing down the hall, I have to get out of here.

I get outside, the buzzing in my pocket making me stop, but I pull out her phone instead of mine, the last text I sent her still in the notification box on the screen.

I’m heading home. See you soon baby

____________

Eighteen Months Later:

I set the final wreath on Y/N’s headstone, taking a step back, my eyes traveling from hers to the two smaller ones beside her. I feel my heart sink and the tears prick the corners of my eyes.

Fuck, it hasn’t gotten easier and truth be told, I don’t think I want it to, I don’t want to forget her.

“I be back later baby, I promise. I miss you so much,” I choke before I touch the top of the stone, heading through the wet morning grass to the car.

I drive to the church I’ve been going to every week since a month after the accident. I’ve never said a word, just sat and listened. Jared made me start going after he had to come get me out of the drunk tank at the police station, and I’ve gone ever since. I didn’t like it then, I’m still not sure I like it now, but the repetition, the fact that it gives me something to do once a week, the repetition gives me some structure.

I take the seat I always do, the one furthest from the door, waiting for people to filter in and fill up the other chairs. The group leader, Darcy, starts the meeting, giving the usual speech, that anyone is welcome to talk, that we are all here to support one another.

“So if anyone would like to start off today, the floor is open.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Shit. She’d want me to get better.

I clear my throat and everyone looks my way, and half of them are shocked. I’ve been here seventeen months and never said a word. I shift uncomfortably, “Hi...I’m Jensen and, shit...I don’t know how to start this. I just want to thank you guys for letting me be here and I’m here every week and I get to look at you, and I get to see you guys, and I know you all have a story and I-I think I’m ready to tell mine.”

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[nightmaretyrantvantas]

I never gave up on you, even when the world acted like it did.

So Im going to preface this with the fact this is about Damian Wayne and an Oc of mine that I ship with him that really only my girlfriend is going to fully understand. This is a DC oc that I haven posted anything about yet, only shared it with my girlfriend as I add to her and refine her. But I was greatly inspired by a fic written by @my-one-love-is-music about Tim faking his death. It gave me so many emotions and is the whole inspiration behind this piece of writing and I just had the urge to post it. Its a bit rough because its not beta’d or proofread by anyone(even me) because I’m publishing it right after finishing it but I hope you guys will like it anyway! 

My girlfriend is going to kill me for this...

I never gave up on you, even when the world acted like it did.

It wasn’t true. It COULDN’T be true.

Damian refused to accept or believe G...She was just...de--gone. 

No no she wasn’t gone. It didnt feel right. It wasnt right. She...she was too strong to just be taken down like that.

Damian refused. He wouldnt accept she was gone. 

That was the first week, the start of the first month of her “death”. While the team and the world grieved he vocally and aggressively denied it. His attitude concerned most, but no one approached him at first. 

        “ Everyone grieves differently...just leave him be for now you guys. He just needs time...” Grayson was the one who rationalized his denial, his tone low and almost dead. The voice of a man whose gone through a loved one’s death before...no...the voice of the boy who went through THIS particular loved one’s death before.

The concerns for Damian’s well being and mental health arose stronger after the first month of denial, when the obsessive behavior began.

She wasnt dead. She was alive, she HAD to be, she WAS alive.

Thats what Damian told himself, everyday as he obsessively searched for her. Every hint, every even slightest trace was poured over over and over and over for days on end. Something was off, he knew it he knew it goddammit!  Everything about it was off and wrong. She was too strong, the death was too sudden, they weren’t allowed to see the body...

He scoured over every single little detail of the mission, the time it happened, everything. He watched video surveillance frame by frame, second by second until his eyes stung and his vision was as blurry as some of the footage. He knew she was alive, he didnt care what everyone else said. They were wrong...

They had to be wrong.

His behavior, his refusal of her absence began starting arguments between Grayson and Kori. Damian acted out worse during missions, he refused to listen, and if he wasnt forced to go on missions or patrols he was locked away in his room searching and hunting for hints, clues, little trails she’d have left for him. But he knew of the arguments, arguments he heard when they thought he wasn’t there.

         “ Dick, his behavior isn’t healthy at all! He isnt listening at all anymore. He’s hurting himself with this obsession. Nothing I say makes a difference to him but he sees you as a brother, you have to do something, he’s spiraling into a dark state of mind thats not letting him move on!”

          “Kori...”

          “Dick you need to do something. This isn’t healthy it isn’t normal--”

          “ Kori I understand you’re worried. I’m worried about him too. But...I also understand what he’s going through...when...back when I first lost Gr--lost Her all those years ago...I was exactly like Damian is now. I didnt want to accept it, I refused to accept she was dead, even when she died in my arms Kori. I know that his obsession isnt healthy or even really helpful for him but I understand it. He’s in pain and distressed and angry and this unhealthy denial is natural. He just needs more time, some more supervised space, and understanding...” 

Damian walked away from that room before they noticed him, a small bubble of gratefulness in his chest at Grayson’s defense. But he was still angry.

She wasnt dead. How could even Grayson give up on her so easily?! 

He knew they thought he was going crazy by the middle of the second month, that he was seeing things that werent even there. At a person who wasnt there. 

The denial and obsession got worse. And with it so worsened his temper. 

They stopped speaking her name around him when he almost took off Beast Boy’s head with his sword for mentioning her name in a past tense. He forgot to eat a couple days at a time, he now outright refused to go on missions. He didnt understand. How could they go on these other pointless, unrelated missions when she was out there, alive and possibly in need of help. He started losing more and more sleep, time not spent searching filled with restless hours of nightmares. Of her, calling his name, of her lost and alone in a strange unfamiliar place, of her captured and tormented.

Those ones he’d wake up in a cold sweat and spend the rest of the night searching, sometimes waking up screaming with bangings and pleads to be let in on his locked door.

Damian knew she was out there. She was leaving him a trail, he just had to figure it out and follow it.

By the third month he looked like a train wreck with feet. He was exhausted, empty, and shakily staying awake on blinks of sleep and caffeine. But now he was leaving, constantly leaving his room and the tower to chase after leads and clues to find her. All over the city, all over towns outside the city. He marked each dead end on a map he pinned up to his wall so he didnt follow a wrong lead twice. He was haunted by ghosts of her presence, her laugh, her comments. The only reason he’d remember to eat was imagining her voice in the back of his mind

Damian look at you! You’re not gonna be a good Robin if you dont eat jerk. 

So he would eat and go back to his work. Even when his father broke his lock open and dragged him across country back to Gotham to get him away from the city it happened in.

       “Shes not dead Father. I know she’s not. Why wont any of you believe me?!”

       “ Damian....I know how much it hurts to lose someone...And I know you don’t want to believe it...but sometimes its better to accept reality and move on for them.” He caught the fist the young boy threw towards his stomach. He hadn’t properly trained in awhile, he was reckless and his reflexes had slowed since Kori had stopped him from locking himself in the training room without supervision, before he started finding leads.

      “ Damian...”

      “ She’s out there, She is still alive Father. I know she is. I dont care what you or Grayson or anyone else says. She is still alive and I will find her and bring her back, even if it ruins me.”

The middle of the third month was practically lived in the Batcave, using every new resource now available to him. He still went out and searched Gotham, searched towns and cities around it ruthlessly. Nothing really stopped him, from requests, orders, threats, even blocking and locking up exits after leaving for patrols. Damian still found his way out  and continued following lead after lead. He felt as if he was slowly going crazy, seeing glimpses of her in crowds or on streets. But every time he’d catch them it either wasnt here or she was gone by the time he caught up. 

But he didnt give up. He wouldnt give up on her like everyone else.

She never gave up on him, he refused to let her down by not doing the same.

Even as some nights doubts flooded his mind, clouding his resolve. 

Shes out there...she has to be....right? 

It was the fourth month. He was almost broken from exhaustion and on the verge of completely losing his mind when Grayson gently coaxed him from the Bat Cave to the Tower. He was so exhausted he didnt register the slight apologetic tilt to his worried frown, the almost guilty pleading light to his blue eyes. 

When they got to the Tower and Damian set his foot on the pavement he almost pulled out his sword and attacked Grayson on the spot if he had more of a mind to. His anger flared then swept itself away in the wave of emotions that struck him seeing the female figure standing beside Red Hood, looking at him with the small smile he’d almost forgotten.

     “ Damian...what the hell happened to you?” 

Her voice, low, shocked, concerned and alive was what snapped him into motion, storming over to the two with an enraged look of death. 

Her dark hair was longer now, starting to lightly brush her shoulders instead of her ends of her ears. She’d lost a little weight and she was dressed differently than she normally would. But those aqua green eyes were still the same he remembered, eyes dark with concern at his silence.

He kept storming for her, fists clenching  so tight his hands began to sting and he looked like he was about to punch them both in the face. 

      “ Damian...? Shit Damian you look terrible what--” She never got to finish that sentence before Damian was holding her in a bone crushing hug that actually knocked some breath out of her. He held her as tight as he could, held her warm, real, living and breathing body in his grip and let himself relax for the first time since she left him. 

She was there, she was ok, she was ALIVE.

He felt her arms slowly but surely wrap around him in response, one hand grasping onto the back of his shirt and the other slipping around his shoulders, her face pressing into his shoulder. Her scent flooded his senses, she smelled a little different, like soap and tacky strawberry shampoo but it was still her.

      “ Gracie...Gracie I swear if you ever....EVER pull a stunt like that and fake your fucking death on me again I will kill you myself when i get my hands on you...Dont ever do that again...” His threat didnt bother her by the sound of her soft, apologetic laugh. Her grip around him tightened and his body loosened and uncoiled as if her presence her touch was carefully unwinding a tightly coiled spring. The world around him was a bit of a blur as she moved away to look up at him and press her hand, her warm living hand, to his cheek with a apologetic smile.

      “ I wont do it again...I promise Damian...never faking my death again. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you...im sorry.” He shut his eyes and leaned into her hand, letting her voice, her touch, HER wash over him. She was here, in his arms, alive and breathing and talking and HERE.

      “ I never gave up...” He felt her perk up at his words, even felt the almost puppy like confusion. He opened his eyes and gave a small vulnerable smile that he only showed few people and his pets. He moved his hands to cup her face before pulling her into another embrace, cradling her in his arms tight as if she would disappear the moment he let go of her.

      “ I never gave up on you Gracie...Even when the rest of the world acted like it did....I never stopped looking for you, following the trails you left me.” She smiled, eyes getting wet and glassy.

      “ You....Fuck Damian...I really dont deserve you...and I know you almost caught me a few times...” He chuckled softly and leaned his head forward pressing his forehead to hers. 

       “ Dont ever do that again or I’ll skin your hide.” She gave another soft laugh, the sound almost music to his ears after the past for months of hell.

       “ Never again.” He smiled and leaned his face more, the relief physically showing on his body as he pulled her closer.

       “ And thank you...for not giving up on me.” 

End 

And There it is! I know it might be kinda crappy but the inspiration hit and I wrote everything that came to my head! I hope you guys like it and if you have any questions about the Oc Gracie feel free to ask! I love babbling about her!

@phantommoonpeople @preciousthingsareprecious

Please reblog with the tags if you like it!