#he will quietly sit on your head and you'll learn to ignore him for the most part but every time you eat something sticky he will

[bbeelzemon]

no mom i swear im normal im sure every kid ties their hair back as tightly as physically possible and uses the feeling of their hair being pulled back as hard as possible as a sort of all-day passive/background stim and will frequently tighten it again several times an hour. im totally normal

[appleblueberry-pie]

Diamond Buried in the Dirt

He felt his lips purse on their own when your aura swarmed the room. He felt his spine strain slightly, his arms and legs flinching at the feeling of you approaching his home of worship. He knew something was different, even when you weren't in the room. He could feel your spirit and mind connecting with his own as if they already knew each other.

His lips parted slightly when you entered, eyes fixated on your form only. But even with all of these emotions and feelings you caused him to feel, you seemed to not feel the energy in the slightest. Were you just that powerful? He watched you sigh, displeased as you walk up to where he laid. Your walk was a sign of power, even with the slump in your shoulders, face aligned with the ground. From what he could see, he could make out your beauty, a sight to behold. Why were you here? What brought you here? How come he has never met you before? He couldn't tell you that you didn't need to kneel on the dirty carpet the other monkeys did the same on, his voice unresponsive and seemingly disconnected with his mind.

You slowly placed your knees on the ground, tucking your feet underneath your butt and sitting. Your hands rested on your thighs as you finally spoke up. "Geto-sama." His followers were silent, smiling and ignorant. It was easier to ignore then and to single you out from the rest of them, especially when you sounded like this. Felt like this.

"I have a confession to make," You blink a few times to gather the courage to speak some more. Years of suffering, years of being called delusional and crazy. How are you supposed to admit it all to some random man who probably doesn't know what you're talking about? Something pulled you to him, though. You could feel his energy, you could see his aura. Maybe there was a hope that he was similar to you? That he could actually help you?

"I've been seeing things.....strange things." You sigh quietly. "Since I was a small child, monsters have been cursing my vision. Everywhere I go, almost every single day, I am...disturbed with their presence." You finally look up at him. He sees your humility, your emotions and fear in your eyes. Your energy almost seems to wrap around his throat, making it hard for him to breathe as you continue.

"I feel as if i am a beacon, because I continue to attract these monsters wherever I run. They talk to me, try to hurt me sometimes. I see them hurt others and I tried to get rid of them, but it never ends. No one believes me when I say they're on their shoulders or when it kills them slowly. They always find a way back to me. No matter how much I try to hide my presence and my- my...." You raise your hands to show what you hope he can see. Your cursed energy surrounds your being, and he knows that you can see his, the way your eyes watch the outline of his body that it lingers around. "I don't know anything. I don't know if I'm fucking crazy, if there's a name for it, if you can see it, or if there are anymore like me. I just," You pause and shake your head, looking around at the still people surrounding you. "I just wanted to know if I could ever have a chance at a normal life. And be free......because I am so....so alone."

"An angel like you doesn't deserve the suffering and pain you have gone through." His lips almost seemed to move on his own and he watches your face switch to one of confusion. "You are so much more divine and ethereal than you believe." Geto feels excitement rush through his veins at the thought of another person he could finally connect with on a personal level. Someone pure to set his mind and even his planned new world free. One where he could have someone like you on his side. By his side. He sees a future in your eyes that makes him more determined than ever to have you in his arms. There is so much for you to know and learn. And when he teaches you everything you need to know, he knows you'll be everything he's ever wanted. Now standing, he holds his hand out. The look in his eyes as he stares down at you makes you believe that this guy is either the real deal or he is the biggest scam you've ever put your money into.

You thought he was reaching out his hand for you to grab and you almost reached out yourself, but then you see energy from all throughout the room collect itself into the palm of his hand in a way that was similar to how you manifest your energy sometimes. The realization makes your heart jump and you leap to your feet at the sight. Geto smiles brightly at you. "You are not alone." A large weight that you didn't know was on your heart lifts and you feel your body lighten like never before. He was just like you. He was just like you! You crack a small smile and step back.

"I didn't know it was possible." Geto stops his manipulation technique and steps closer to you. "It's all possible with a blessing like ours." You felt a little awkward when he first grabbed your hand, but a surge of his energy almost seemed to transfer to you and you gasped, pulling it back. "It's okay, it's okay. Just a little playful is all." It almost seemed to linger under your skin and it made your stomach bubble with happiness. "Is there......is there more of us?"

He gestures to behind his curtains. "I have an entire family waiting for me when this is all over. They'd be thrilled to know that there's going to be an addition to the family. There isn't much of us here, but-" "Wait, addition to the family?"

Geto takes another step closer to you, wanting to close the gap. "Of course. An extremely small percentage of shamans are living in this world. There isn't much of us out there and I am willing to go to extreme lengths to create a better world for us who aren't seen and heard. And in order for that to happen, we need people like you on our side. I know it's hard to think about and I apologize profusely for throwing this onto you, but you are needed just like the rest of us."

He could tell he was losing you when he said that. Shit, was he moving too fast? All he wanted was to get to know you better. Maybe it would be better to do this gradually over time. But if he tried to take things slow, who knows when someone else could snatch this opportunity away from him? He needs you to join him and be on his side. Be in his family. His wife. You were perfect for everything he desired.

"I have an entire life outside of....what you're hinting at. I can't just....throw my life away, Geto-sama." And I barely know you, you wanted to add. You took a step back, which made him step forward. "Yes, I understand. Maybe I was being too straightfoward. Maybe you can set up another appointment with me and we can talk about it more in depth if you have more time in the future, if you would like?" His face was calm, but his body language made it seem like he was desperate. You had to think about this from a different perspective.

There is an entire world that you didn't know about. You tried living normally amongst other people, but you were actually a "shaman" who had the ability to get rid of monsters and could see and attract monsters. You assumed if there was a certain percentage of these types of people in the world, there would also be good and bad ones. What was Geto's motive? You actually didn't want to know. He wants you in his "family", found out your potential, has a room full of regular people as his followers and acts as if he's a monk? What does he do with people that aren't "shamans"? Everything about his set up was weird and made you scrunch your knows when you realize what you possibly had gotten yourself into.

You were staring at him. Your stare was stone cold and made his face twist from a fake smile into almost genuine restraint and confusion. Suddenly, you were gone. Space and time continued where you left off and you appeared back home. Geto was left in the room to understand that you had teleported away. When he realized you left, he felt his anger rise. He wouldn't allow you to forget him. He wouldn't allow you to slip out of his fingers either. He needed you and he needed your strength and legacy to continue where he left off if there would ever be a time that that would happen. He would find you if it meant killing all of the dirty roaches that infested this city and will pick you from your safe space to be in his arms. He deserves everything he's ever wanted, and if it's you, then he'll get you.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Yay requests are open! :DDD

Can I maybe get something with mandela catalogue because WHY NOT YLDLYDYLDLYFK

I maybe went beyond you with Alternate y/n but can I get something like so fluffy and they so God damn sweet it so silly like????

They so kind and Affectionate to everyone like wtf (maybe hug out of no where they would squeeze the hell out of the person or compliment non stop with heart eyes like <3333 *nothing suspicious Of course!!*)

Would like Scenario with mark, any Alternate (might intruder specifically but whatever u like!) And Gabriel! :0

U can choose or make more than one I would be 10× happy <33

I know it's tough or annoying and you are free to ignore this request but please tell me so I won't wait <3

Love your writing please keep going and take care of yourself!

I just did the three you requested ^^ Took me a bit to figure out scenarios but hope you like 'em!

............

--Mark--

"Your place of worship has..quite the vastness. Are all of them like this?"

"There's smaller ones around town, but this is the one I've pretty much grown up in."

"I see...it's quite lovely. All the flowers and stained glass windows add a nice touch."

"Mhm.." Mark nodded his head, keeping a vacant gaze on the church's altar as he fiddled with the rosary tangled in his fingers.

You, in the meantime, were intrigued by this house of god--the same place Preacher once infiltrated to adopt one of the nuns' forms. But luckily, she had moved on since then and hasn't disturbed these grounds.

It was a surprise that Mark actually allowed you to accompany him tonight..considering you were quite adamant about stepping through the doors. You thought he'd become distressed upon learning his sanctuary had no spiritual nor physical barriers that kept Alternates out.

But he apparently knew that already and accepted it, as he invited you anyways, insisting he didn't wish to be alone.

When he knelt down to pray for some time, you left him be while exploring the church for yourself, looking at the architecture.

You continue to be impressed by what humanity has built for their religion.

When you returned to the pews, Mark was no longer kneeling, instead sitting there with a blank stare. And judging from his empty responses to your remarks, he seemed...lost.

Didn't he come here to put his mind at ease? You thought you'd see him become less tense after finishing his prayers, but he looked just the same--if not more upset.

"...I couldn't think of anything new this time."

Confused, you sat down next to him. And he took your silence as a sign to elaborate.

"I mean...I-I keep praying for the same stuff. For my friend to be at peace, wherever he is, my parents to talk to me again....and for things to go back to normal. But it feels like I'm asking for the impossible. It just..doesn't seem worth it anymore.."

"I believe all of those things are still worth praying for, Mark..be it one time or a hundred." You softly interjected, frowning a bit. "Life may not entirely go back to what it once was, but you can always pray for better days ahead. You have survived the worst of them, and you'll survive plenty more."

He was quiet for a moment, before shrugging. "It feels like even that's too much to ask for nowadays. Maybe...He forgot about me, or my prayers aren't enough-"

"I doubt anything's ever "too much" for your god. I'm sure He hears you and knows you're trying to stay faithful in such difficult times. If I were Him, I'd think your prayers are good enough for...."

Stopping, you heard him sniffle and gazed at him in worry, seeing his shoulders slumped. "Mark?" You were especially alarmed when he suddenly began to sob, bringing his hands to his face.

In that moment you feared that you've accidentally said something MAD-inducing. "I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean it like-"

"I-In all my years going to..c-confession..nobody's ever told me that." He cried quietly. "They said my soul was doomed the moment I met that intruder guy...a-and there's only a small chance I can be saved if I keep praying.."

You blinked, bewildered by what you were hearing. "Your whole church knows about that night? And they blame you for encountering him? But that wasn't your fault...you were a child."

"Th-They don't care. They never did. But of all people..I never expected an Alternate to tell me something so....r-reassuring..." Mark looked up at you, and the smile on his tearful face confirmed he wasn't upset with you in the slightest. "Thanks, [y/n]. I..I really need to hear that."

"But of course." You smiled back and brought him into an embrace, squeezing him tightly as relief swept over you. "There's no need to weep anymore, little lamb. For I am here and I see your good heart and soul..even if others don't."

All he did was nod in response, and that was enough for you.

You'll definitely have Six's head on a silver platter for this someday.

.........

--Intruder--

"Tell me, Six..have you grown soft for the prophet?"

"..what ever do you mean, traitor?"

"Does "I cradled him in my arms, my sweet boy" ring a bell?"

Six scowled as you mimicked his voice, grinning cheekily at his reaction.

You were just getting a kick out of angering him at every possible turn. Especially ever since he knew you've been "siding" with humanity as of late, looking after a young man you've come to see as a friend.

He didn't like that one bit--yet he couldn't say anything to Gabriel.

Your leader figured you were only acting this way as a means to destroy humans from the inside-out once you've gained their trust enough.

But Six, on the other hand, knows you true intentions. You wanted to protect them.

Unfortunately for him, the "angel" threatened him not to disrupt your plans again..lest there be severe consequences.

"Oh come now, why the long face, brother?" You teased. "Over 3,000 of their kin you have abducted..and none of their sweet faces have ever touched your heart?"

"What heart? We don't have those, and you know it."

"..what about that Heathcliff boy you spared? You know..he drew a picture of you and showed it to his class a long time ago."

"It wasn't the right...wait, he did what..?" He blinked, surprised that a child would want to draw him. Usually, he frightened them most when he appeared to them in reality and not as their best friend "Stanley".

But nothing surprised him more than when you had Mark's actual drawing in-hand, giving it to Six and allowing him to look at it. You watched his expression carefully, seeing his gaze soften considerably as his eyebrows furrowed.

"This..was made by him? How did you-?"

"His teacher confiscated it, but I've recovered it." You tilted your head, your smile only growing more. "Are you sure you don't care? Because now you look like a father who is proud of his child's artwork-"

"You're wrong. I don't feel any sentiment towards them. Everything I've done was to manipulate them into doing our master's bidding." Immediately, his scowl returned and he glared back up at you-

Only for him to flinch as you wrapped your lanky arms around him without warning.

He squirmed about, realizing you were once again doing this...awful and disgusting thing you've adopted from humans. You've shown it to other Alternates, but he despised it. "Release me!!"

"Don't lie to me, brother. You're weak to their influence as I am." You laughed, squeezing him tight. "There's no shame in admitting it-"

"GET OFF!! Traitorous black sheep!"

Six suddenly glitched out of your embrace, disappearing from reality altogether. You looked around and eventually spotted his silhouetted figure in the nearest TV, white eyes glaring at you.

He was safe..for now. But you've had your fun with him, so you simply left him alone.

Though not without laying the drawing down on the floor where he could see it.

You never noticed his hand creeping out from the screen and grabbing it, dragging the paper into his realm.

.....

--Alt!Gabriel--

"How is your deception of humanity fairing, my child?"

"It is going well." Smiling up at your Savior, you clasped your hands together in front of you. "I'm learning more about what they enjoy..and what their sorrows are. Soon enough, it'll become easier to watch them rot from within."

"As it should. I do want to apologize for the...erratic behaviors of your dearest brother. He does not understand your mission as well as I do."

At the mention of Six, you nodded, trying to bite back your utter disdain for him. There's a lot you wanted to say about him, but you didn't come here to complain about him the entire time.

He wasn't worth wasting your breath.

"No he does not. I liken him to a petulant child." You sighed. "He's convinced you're..."playing favorites" with me when I've done nothing particularly extraordinary compared to-"

"Now, now..you mustn't speak that way." Gabriel's chuckles reverberated through the dark void you two stood in. "Give yourself a little credit, won't you? You have done well, and I know you'll continue to be quite the spy. I was right to bring you into creation..my most loyal servant yet."

Flattered by his praise, you couldn't help but kneel before him, trying to hide your growing smile.

"Thank you, my divine leader. I shan't forget this life you've breathed into me. I receive your generous words wholly."

"..hahaha..so eloquently spoken. You may as well be a human yourself! I commend you for adapting their language so quickly." You felt his hand reach down to pat the shadowy top of your head.

His eerie smile stretched even wider than yours, knowing he had you wrapped around his finger perfectly.

Of all the Alternates, you've complimented him the most. The others were too mindless to converse with him as long as you did.

Of course, Six was the exception..but all he ever did was complain about you like some tattle-tail.

You, on the other hand, never acted out of line or questioned his demands.

You were as obedient as a sheep. Exactly as he wanted.

"Now rise, my child, and go forth. We still have a lot of work to do."

[icallhimjoey]

That's It

♥ ♥  rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve is there to stay, and you fall into a new routine together, the three of you, old buddies back to their old ways. Except, no, this is actually nothing like your old ways, is it?

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, fem!reader, angst, brief mentions of substance abuse and addiction, mentions of smut, sort of cheating? not really... you'll see

Author’s note: Eddie had good reason to freak out a little over you and Steve getting drunk together. Learn why! Also, we're headed into... new territory. Hope you enjoy!

Wordcount: 6.2K

(find all other parts of this story here)

You were shocked awake because Steve jolted. Spazzed like he dreamt he was about to fall off a cliff.

It immediately made you very aware of how your bodies were positioned; you on your side, facing the back of the couch, leaning into the little crevice of darkness that it created. And Steve was on his back, right alongside you, and he had you in the crook of his arm, your head on his bicep as the rest of it curled around the front of your shoulders. Like you'd been spooning, but the spoon had fallen open.

You felt how the alcohol consumption of the night before had affected your body, but wanted to ignore it. To sleep more. Steve was pleasantly warm and the couch was comfy, but Steve had jolted in shock and immediately moved to sit up. However, just as quick as he’d awoken, he was coaxed back down by Eddie’s whispering voice.

“Shh shh, no it’s OK, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,”

You felt Steve move slightly, and it felt like he checked on you before he relaxed back into his position.

“Hung over?”

“Hmh,” was all Steve managed.

He felt awful.

So did Eddie, though.

“What time is it?” Steve whispered, his voice barely there. “It’s light out.”

You heard Eddie chuckle softly and knew he had probably sat down on the coffee table, like he would sometimes do when you were pulling yourself out of a nap and he had to put his shoes on before heading out somewhere.

“It’s just past 7, sorry,”

You heard Steve try to say, “Sorry about last night,” through a yawn, but Eddie was quick to dismiss him.

“No, don’t,” Eddie whispered, “I didn’t– you did nothing wrong, I just freaked out,”

“I shouldn’t have taken her to–”

Steve stopped talking. You didn’t hear why, but imagined either Eddie held up a hand or made a face.

They both knew you. There was no need for Steve to lie about who had taken who to a bar.

“Ok but... this was my fault,” you felt Steve shake a little, and pictured it was his other hand gesturing from you to himself a couple of times.

“Honestly,” Eddie whispered, pausing a second before carrying on, “I’m glad she didn’t have to sleep alone,”

Pretending to sleep became more difficult by the second.

“I scared myself and didn’t know if I could... I didn’t know how to face it,” Eddie explained, but Steve stayed silent.

“It’s so fucked up, and I really didn’t expect it, because when you called, it was funny to me – I was glad to know where you were, because, you weren’t here when I got back, and then I didn’t hear from you for the rest of the day,”

Yeah, you should’ve at least maybe called him beforehand. Let him know where you were at. How long you were going to be.

“And it was funny, you were–” Eddie stopped to huff a laugh through his nostrils as quietly as he could manage it. “You were slurring, like, I’ve not heard you talk like that since we were... what, twenty? Twenty-one?”

You remembered times where Steve and Eddie used to get high together on bad weed, two lanky teens who didn't know how to talk to girls without hurting their own feelings, and then they would go see a movie where they’d come to buy popcorn from you, and you had to pretend to take their money before you just gave it back to them in change.

Then after they’d napped in their seats and missed most of whatever movie they hadn't paid money to see, they would stay to clean up all the popcorn they’d spilled and would wait out your shift to go out together.

Man, you used to go out and drink together, all three of you, all of the time. That really seemed like a lifetime ago.

“But then when I saw you – her, mostly when I saw her, I really scared myself,” Eddie continued whispering.

You felt your throat tighten and laid as still as you could still. Tried to focus on your breathing.

“I really wanted to kiss her,”

Oh.

That wasn’t what you expected.

“Just to get a taste myself,”

Ah.

That sounded more like it.

Awful. Obviously, this was awful. But it made sense to you.

Eddie shutting you out and leaving you to fend for yourself with Steve’s help made sense given Eddie’s history. You disliked everything about the reality of the situation, but you appreciated the logic. It settled within your system fast, and you hardly reacted to it. Immediately thought of how this was something that needed rules and talking through and for you to keep in mind for the future.

“It’s so gross, she threw up, and I just wanted to kiss her more,” Eddie whispered, and you could hear he almost made himself stop talking just before the confession. Then he said, “Sorry,” and you thought maybe Steve was grimacing at the visual.

“But those are my issues, man. ‘S got nothing to do with you, and you looked like you needed a fucking drink yesterday,” Eddie’s voice had shifted from whisper to a low, hushed baritone.

Your hip started hurting from laying on it so still for so long, but you didn’t want to interrupt the boys, so you decided to bear it for as long as you could.

“You okay?”

Steve sighed, and you heard his hand fall onto his leg, or maybe his stomach, with a soft slap.

“I’m getting a divorce,” Steve spoke softly, now also not whispering anymore.

“What?”

“Yea, it’s... I don’t know, looking back, I honestly have no idea what I was thinking,”

You were glad your back was turned and neither of them could see your face as it frowned deeply.

“I thought I could make it,” Steve said, and it got followed by a silence.

This is also what Steve had said to you, but he hadn’t elaborated then.

“I thought that if I tried to see someone through eyes, through this different lens, that I could just... I don’t know how to explain it without sounding stupid,”

“Story of your life,”

They both snickered a little. Boys. Idiots. It made enough noise for you to stir a little. For your throat to escape a small little noise. Steve froze immediately, breaths were held, and the room got overtaken by silence.

They were trying not to wake you. After shifting enough to get more comfortable on your hip, you sighed deeply and relaxed again. It occurred to you that maybe it was strange that you were asleep in Steve’s arms – not curled into him, or too on top of him, but, this had every potential to be weird. Especially with Eddie sat on the coffee table, talking to the boy that held you as you slept.

Except, it wasn’t weird.

It was nice. Felt natural. You were just you, Steve and Eddie. The forever tripod. You’d fallen asleep in between Eddie and Steve plenty of times, so it had never really been weird. You just hadn’t expected it to still feel so normal now that you were all either already or almost thirty years old.

And, you know, married. Steve, at least.

When enough seconds of you not moving had passed, their conversation resumed.

“This doesn’t help,” Steve said, now back to whispering again and you could hear the humour in his voice. “The expectations you’ve set are too high, man,” Steve complained.

“What do you mean?” Eddie sounded genuinely confused.

“Being around the two of you for so long? It’s set the bar too high,” Steve huffed another soft laugh, but Eddie didn’t join him.

“Are you... Steve are you jealous?”

You felt Steve attempt a shrug, and your cheeks flushed at the idea of Steve being jealous of the relationship you had with Eddie. It somehow made your heart swell for Eddie because you loved him so, and you felt a little proud of that fact that you fit together so nicely. It took a lot of work, and it surely hadn’t been easy, but you both put in effort and now Steve was jealous of it.

But it also made you feel insanely guilty. Made you want to just be friends, the three of you, for a little bit. Pretend that it was all just platonic, and Steve had nothing to be jealous about.

“Wow,” you heard Eddie get up and take a few steps. “Steve Harrington? Jealous of little old Eddie Munson?”

Oh no. Eddie was going milk this for years.

“Okay,” Steve regretted even bringing it up. “It’s not like that,” he backtracked, but Eddie wasn’t having it and you knew exactly what smug little expression he was currently wearing.

“No, no, I get it, I mean, look around. Got the big house, the cars, the job, the–”

“The pinball machines,” Steve added.

“The pinball machines, did you– did she play you?”

“She did,”

You weren't even facing him, had both your eyes closed, pretended to be fast asleep still, but you could feel Eddie grin. Knew he loved it when you showed interest in whatever his current hyperfixation was.

“Man… I really do have it all, don’t I?” Eddie softly mused, almost sounding a little shy. Bashful. Like he couldn't believe his luck and having Steve confess he was jealous of him kind of brought it all into perspective for him.

“Got the girl,” Steve added, leaving his tone up as if to continue the list that Eddie had started.

But Eddie didn’t continue the game, and instead repeated, “Got the girl.” definitively.

That was the end of the list.

Even though there were many more things to be added, like the band, the support he needed from his label, the creative freedom he felt in collaboration with his producers, the mental clarity he'd always be left with after speaking to his therapist, or the way he'd feel like he could concur the world after an AA meeting – all of these things were important, but the girl was the most important. The thing that really mattered.

With full attention on you, you held your breath in anticipation of what was going to be said next.

“Got the best, the kindest, sweetest, hottest, sexiest, ugh,” Eddie groaned, and Steve chuckled at the theatrics. “So talented, so supportive, so smart, so beautiful, and so… so awake right now,”

Fuck.

“So, so, so very awake,”

Yeah. You'd been caught out.

You felt two hands squeeze you, and you flinched at the sudden contact. Eddie leaned over Steve and found your face to press a kiss onto, making you hum in acknowledgement.

“How long you been awake for, huh?” Eddie cooed into your ear, and you turned over a little to face him.

“The whole time,” you confessed with a sleepy smile, and you felt Steve tighten his grip on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie whispered, knowing you understood what the apology was for, and followed it with a kiss to your lips. Several. More until he got your teeth because you couldn't help but laugh a little awkwardly.

You were on top of Steve and Eddie was kissing you, and with Steve just having confessed he was jealous of whatever you and Eddie had, it felt a little like shoving things into his face.

“That’s OK,” you dismissed it and moved to sit up. Thought you could talk about it later when your body wasn’t pressed into Steve’s.

You turned to look at Steve, gave a slight smile as you squinted and offered, “Breakfast?”

It had been a while since you'd seen Eddie be useful in the kitchen. Ever since you'd moved to LA and he'd hired chefs to come and do all the work for you, he'd barely touched the stove to begin with.

When you wanted to get up to help out, both boys refused and turned you away. Said you could just sit and drink your coffee, or, as Eddie suggested, go brush your hair since you'd just let it get wet in the shower last night and hadn't touched it after.

You commented, “You go brush your hair,” jokingly glaring at Eddie, but were already on your way out because he was right, your hair was a whole bird's nest that needed tending to.

When you returned, looking a little more presentable than before, Eddie and Steve had been joined by the personal chef who was teaching Steve how to do things.

Huh.

That had never occurred to you.

Eddie had hired all these people to take every single job out of your hands... but you could've just... done them with them. Joined in. Learned from them.

You knew Eddie probably also wouldn't like you doing that, hiring people to do jobs and then having you do them with them wasn't exactly the point, but seeing the chef teach Steve how to hold a knife properly opened a bunch of doors inside your mind.

“Don’t even think about it,” Eddie snuck up behind you, and Jesus fucking Christ, had he turned into some sort of mind reader? Or was the hungover version of you just that easy to read, somehow?

“Eddie,” you tried.

“Nope.” he shot you down immediately, his hand trailing over your lower stomach. He kept it there a second. There, where all the important things were stored, and you got it. Got what he meant.

Okay.

This could be another thing you were going to talk about later when Steve wasn't in the room with you. You understood why Eddie wanted you relaxed. Free of burden. Mind at complete ease, no stress, no worries, no nothing.

You got it.

But you also thought Eddie was taking it a little too far, maybe.

Over breakfast, Steve asked if it was okay if he would really stay for a month. When he had mentioned that the day before, he hadn't been joking. Apparently he'd gotten all the paperwork signed for his divorce and had immediately gone to catch a flight afterwards. “Got it done, and got out,” he said and he kind of laughed to hide the hurt. Of course he could stay for a month - hell, Eddie said, stay for fucking ever, he didn't mind, and neither did you. The guest room Steve used would just be Steve's room now. He was free to use your house as his own - no problem.

Steve mentioned rent, but Eddie swiped it off the table immediately. When Eddie didn't look, Steve signed and made eyes and you knew he meant, we'll figure something out behind his back. And you did. Steve had savings and even though you didn't want him to pay you for his stay, he said he'd feel bad if he'd freeload.

Eddie had his moment alone with you, told you other reasons why he spiraled after seeing you drunk, and you'd unnecessarily apologised a million times. Because what if you had been...? You weren't. You knew you weren't. But what if you had been? Eddie hugged you for long, and then asked, “No ragrets?” in a silly voice and you smiled through a sniffle and answered, “No ragrets!” in an almost upbeat scream - an inside joke that would never get old, that instantly lightened the mood every time.

Steve made himself useful. Became friends with every single person that set foot into the house. Let the chef teach him about cooking every single day. Learned how to clean a pool properly, how pool pH levels worked and stuff. Got to learn about various gardening tools and what plants were planted where and why, because of the sun and the shade and the position of the house and Steve loved it. Really kept himself busy.

You loved it too.

You still had Eddie's agenda to fret over, and with the upcoming release of a new album, there was lots to keep track off, but there was still a lot of free time, and now you had a buddy to spend it with whenever Eddie would be busy.

You took Steve hiking a lot, and Steve would challenge you to lap races in the pool all the time. You went to see the secret Corroded Coffin shows together and wouldn't be stuck by the side of the stage, but would be in the crowd with Steve. Mingling with fans. They'd come up to say hi, and Steve was an expert in exuding that's-enough-vibes and rounding-off-conversations-with-a-smile. Eventually you'd be left alone and you'd get to watch the band play fan-favorites and test out new songs.

For a few weeks, a new routine had settled into your system, and the new routine merged with one old one; sex every other night.

Eddie had looked it up and had shown you, “See, not every night. Every other night. Got to give my swimmers a break, give them a moment to collect themselves and listen to their trainers before I shoot them off to find the target,” Eddie had said, using his hands to really paint the picture of sperm cells swimming with laser focus.

“Wow, you really know how to make this romantic,” you'd joked, and Eddie had stored that comment away in his to-remember box inside his head, because every single every-other-night, he'd known exactly what to do to make it special. To get you in the mood within an instant.

Sometimes it was cliché shit, like rose petals and candle light and soft music and massage oil in hotel rooms.

Other times it was soft and slow touches on the couch that played and teased and wouldn't progress until you'd sling a leg over him to take matters into your own hands.

Sometimes it was hot shower sex.

Sometimes it'd be a quickie on a lounger out by the pool.

And sometimes, Eddie turned the insecure days and turned them into the best days and he'd try to start something on a day in between and you'd be like, “Every other day, Ed,” and he'd whisper something like, “I'm keeping my guys inside, don't worry,” and it'd just be all about you for a few hours.

You'd been going for months.

And every single pregnancy test you'd ever taken had come out negative.

It was a slap in the face every time, so after a while, you stopped doing them, because you'd rather wait until you'd missed two periods entirely than have a little piece of plastic ruin a full week of your life again.

“Let's not worry about it,” Eddie would always say. “Let's just have fun.”

You'd agreed on a year of just trying. Seeing what would happen. Just going with the flow. A full year, and if a full year of unprotected sex still wouldn't have done the trick, you'd go see a doctor together.

Eddie was a rock. Your rock.

But he'd also say things like, “You need to relax more,” and, “You can't overthink, you'll just stress yourself out,” whilst simultaneously beating himself over the head, because he was failing, wasn't he? Not able to get his girl the baby she wanted. That was on him. Of course it was.

But that was a difficult truth to face.

“Let's just have fun.”

And so fun you had.

Loud fun.

It took Steve two weeks to make a comment about being kept awake most nights.

“So um... you've got excellent stamina, I hear,” Steve tried subtly over breakfast one morning, speaking into his coffee mug before taking a sip. Eddie immediately understood what he meant and couldn't help the shit-eating grin that spread across his face.

“Damn right I do,” Eddie said, shoveling a spoonful of cornflakes into his mouth before reaching over to squeeze your shoulder.

It took you a little longer to get it.

“Kind of have to with this one,” Eddie said, head rolling back to smirk at Steve, and Steve seemed a little uncomfortable, but not crazy awkward. There was humour there, but it was something you were missing, so you frowned at their interaction and narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“And on a tight schedule too,” Steve commented, getting up from his seat and making his way over to the coffee pot for a refill. “Every other day?”

You were just about to have a sip of coffee, but you choked on it and sprayed it right from your mug into your face.

Horrified.

Oh my God.

No!

“Babe,” Eddie moved in with some kitchen roll, laughing, but you'd already hidden your face into the crook of your elbow resting on the table.

“You can hear us?” you'd never been more mortified in your life.

Now, listen.

You didn't care about Eddie's band members hearing you get a little too cozy in one of the bunks on the tourbus at all.

You didn't care that they would comment on it whilst it was happening - that had only just made you giggle and had made Eddie grip onto you tighter.

You didn't care that the pool guy had walked in on you naked in the pool once - mostly because you'd been wrapped around Eddie's and so you'd had all of your bits covered. But you didn't care about being caught like that, and hadn't cared when Eddie had shouted, “Sorry, dude, give us twenty minutes and this space is all yours,” through a smile.

But Steve?!

Steve trying to get some peaceful sleep in your guest room whilst he was going through a divorce being kept awake deep into early hours because he could hear you being fucked into the mattress by Eddie?!

No, no, no, no - no!

“You. He can hear you.” Eddie made it worse, and you shot eyes towards Steve by the coffee machine who sort of... nodded, apologetically so, but he was having way too much fun making you go through it, and you wanted to die.

“Oh, God,” you groaned, face covered with both your hands as you tried to process the humiliation.

“No, it's more like, oh, oh, God, fuck, Eddie,”

You launched yourself at Eddie to make him shut up, spilling more coffee in the process of climbing onto his lap, grabbing at his head until you had his mouth covered with one and his eyes with the other.

“Steve, you're moving into the downstairs guest room,” you stated matter of factly.

“Yea, 'cause she's not going to quiet down, she's not–” Eddie spoke through your fingers until you shut him up with a kiss, the only thing that would really make him stop talking.

“Capable,” Eddie finished with a stupid grin once you pulled back.

“No, it's okay, your housekeeper left me earplugs,”

Cool.

So the housekeeper knew too.

Great.

Life was so great, wasn't it?

Ugh. Fucking hell.

You were going to bury yourself alive that afternoon, you decided. And you'd make Eddie help you out.

“No ragrets?” Eddie asked softly when you got up from his lap, and you sighed, “No ragrets,” back in response. Eddie looked at you a little pleadingly, and then shot eyes towards Steve who sat back down with a full mug of steaming coffee before he looked back at you.

Eddie was asking if he could tell Steve.

You hadn't told anyone. You barely liked talking about it outside of the upstairs bathroom, where you'd initially had talked to Eddie about wanting a baby, maybe, and where Eddie had promised to put one inside of you right that second. It was also where you'd taken every single pregnancy test you'd ever taken, and it felt like that room had become the one place where you got to sit inside your feelings about it not working out. The second you'd leave it, you'd step back into the day, into reality, where there were meetings to be had and there was music to be made.

“No ragrets.” you said again, sweeter and softer this time as you answered Eddie's unspoken question, but leaving the room as you did.

Eddie could tell Steve without you there.

You don't know why it felt so weird to you, but you felt embarrassed enough as it was and wanted to go for a shower anyway.

Steve didn't look at you weird after. Didn't bring it up either, which was nice. He was just his same old self when you sat around the pool and talked about Robin together, you with a foot in the water as you sat on the edge, both boys spread out on loungers

“She says they're not really together, that it's more of a friends with benefits situation... but, they're basically dating, anyway,” Steve explained.

“She deserves the best fucking girlfriend in the world,” you said, and Steve grimaced a little, and said, “This might not be her,”

“So, friends with benefits it'll be, then,” Eddie chimed in, but immediately chuckled after. “I'm saying that like I get to decide,”

“Can Robin not come out here too for a bit?” you asked.

Steve just shrugged, unsure if he really needed Robin all up in his business about his divorce right now. You and Eddie had been exactly what he needed in the fact that you never brought it up. Pretended it wasn't even happening somewhere in the background of Steve's life, even though it was definitely happening right up in the forefront of it.

“Do we know anyone? Can we set her up?” you asked Eddie, who replied with a shrug as well.

These boys were of no help to you.

“Friends with benefits,” Eddie mused after taking another drag of his cigarette. “If you think about it, Steve is sort of our friend with benefits,”

Eddie was about to say something stupid to embarrass you again, wasn't he?

“Or wait,” Eddie retracted. “We are Steve's friends with benefits,”

Oh, God. You were already groaning.

“But the benefits aren't exactly sexy, he just... gets to stay here,” Eddie laughed, and you sighed a breath of relief. Saw Steve drop tension from his face too.

“Maybe not friends with benefits,” Steve chimed in. “But definitely more than just friends I'd say, no?”

“Steve,” Eddie grabbed Steve's shoulder, clearly ready to make fun of the dumb thing Steve just said, already laughing.

“Like, family, you idiot,” Steve argued, making Eddie's laugh burst and you couldn't help but chuckle at the two of them.

Just two friends in the sun who didn't know how to describe what they really were to each other. It felt sort of endearing.

“It's stupid that more than friends immediately means romantic, doesn't it?” you thought out loud whilst looking at your foot that swirled in the water.

Having a pool in a warm climate was so nice.

You were so blessed and this was one of those moments where you could really feel it in your bones. Sun on your back. Foot in the water. Eddie there. Steve there.

Blessed.

“I'd say we're more than friends,” Eddie agreed.

You looked at Steve who quickly looked away from you, like he'd been caught staring, and said, “Definitely.”

And that had left you feeling a little funny.

Not that you had much time to dwell over it.

“We definitely are more than friends,” Eddie had said pointing a finger straight at you as he got up, and before you knew it, Eddie was flying over you, monster diving into the pool and splashing you where you were sat.

You were just about to scold Eddie for jumping into the water in his clothes when he pulled you in by the foot. You didn't stand a fucking chance, you were in and under within a fraction of a second.

“Get in, Harrington,” Eddie called when you found your feet and came up sputtering.

Before you'd even gotten the hair from your face, Steve's cannon ball splashed a new wave right into your face. You used your hands to splash back, ducked under water and came back up face first, hair all dragged out of your face, and saw Eddie smile and jump to swim away quicker from Steve who seemed ready to fight him on something.

“It's so fun being thirty,” you pointed out dryly, because this was quite honestly ridiculous.

“Thirty-one,” Eddie corrected as he fled towards the other side of the pool from Steve who'd started the chase and fucking hell, yes he was thirty-one, but look at him.

Them.

Look at them.

Chasing each other in a pool in full outfits because one probably said something silly about the other and now it was time for pay back in the form of repeated dunks under water.

Children.

These were little children you were watching.

Fuck, you loved them so much.

Blessed.

You were quick to climb out of the pool, quick to leave the boys to play whilst you slipped inside and left wet clothes by the door before you went to find a towel and a dry outfit to change into.

When you stepped back out with a pile of towels, Eddie called, “No ragrets!” and you huffed a laugh at the confused face Steve gave just before Eddie jumped up and pushed him down and under by the shoulders.

“Okay, I gotta ask,” Steve said after he'd come back up, now swimming towards the edge closest to where you sat down on a lounger.

“You do realise you keep pronouncing regrets wrong, right?”

Eddie made eye-contact with you before he threw his shirt onto the tiles besides the pool which landed with a wet slap.

“You tell the story,” Eddie said, because he didn't know how to tell it without sounding like an arrogant asshole and a huge dumbass at the same time. He pushed off the edge whilst Steve climbed on top.

“So,” you started, unable to hide your smile. This was a fun story. “One time after a gig, you know how sometimes fans wait by stage door? This time, there were maybe eight people, small little group, but one of them was this huge dude. Massive tree trunk of a guy, a real unit, covered in tattoos, head to toe, but he was squealing like a nine year-old girl about to meet The Backstreet Boys,”

“She's not exaggerating,” Eddie called from the other side of the pool, now floating on his back in just his jeans, soaking up the sun. Meanwhile Steve was wringing out his T-shirt before moving to come sit next to you on the lounger, using the other to spread his T-shirt out to let it the sun dry it.

“And he's telling Eddie all about how he loves Corroded Coffin, loves them so much, that he's seen at least seventeen shows, and he asks Eddie to sign his arm,”

“I found the one empty spot between all the tats, just large enough for a signature and a little message,”

“But Eddie's talking, and saying that he must have spent a fortune on concert tickets, and this guy goes, no regrets, man,”

“No regrets!” Eddie shouted, one arm up in the air, making you giggle.

“So Eddie writes, no regrets, signs the arm and that's that... but then, like, three weeks later? Three weeks later Eddie meets this guy at another show and he's gotten it tattooed,”

“Oh no,” Steve caught on. Knew where this was going.

“Yep. He showed Eddie, all proud,”

“Your dyslexic ass, you wrote no ragrets?!” Steve was shocked.

“No ragrets!” Eddie shouted again, louder this time, that same arm punching the air again, making the both of you laugh.

“Now it's a thing.”

With Steve in on the joke now, the conversation naturally went onto other stupid shit Eddie had written in the past. Like when he'd misspelled his own name when he'd tried to do a cool graffiti drawing of it in class that one time. Or when he'd written his own sick note, and the office had called Wayne to verify that Eddie really did have diehareeyah.

Eddie fired back, mentioned stupid shit Steve had done before, like trying to climb out of a window that was right next to an open door to not be caught by Wayne after having secretly smoked weed with Eddie. Or how he'd once fallen asleep at the movies, like he always fucking did, and had tried to roll over like he was in bed and had promptly fallen out of the seat, right onto the floor, where he just continued his slumber.

Or what about you, when you...

Eddie and Steve looked at each other, and Eddie frowned a little.

“When you...” he thought a second longer, then shook his head. “Shit babe... what's something embarrassing you've done?”

“Why can't I think of anything?” Steve had his eyes narrowed at you.

You just smirked.

There was plenty of embarrassing shit you'd done, but you were glad none of it had stuck with them.

“There isn't anything, I'm perfect.” you joked, feigning a casual confident shrug.

You expected them to fight you on it, but instead Eddie said, “She's right.” and you gave him a nose-scrunch which he immediately returned.

What a guy. So sappy.

You loved it.

Steve announced he was also going to get out of his wet clothes, and you were reminded you had just left yours in a wet pile by the door. And so, as Steve went inside to dry off, you went inside to collect wet clothing items for the laundry.

Upstairs, you called for Steve to put whatever clothes he had into the open washing machine, expecting him to do so once you'd left.

Instead, Steve walked out of his room, wet clothes in hand, and his wet underwear practically transparent.

That was his full penis.

Shit.

You pretended not to see. Maybe Steve didn't know he was on show like that.

“Oh, thanks,” you avoided any and all contact as Steve dropped his clothes in and you prepared it for a cycle. Kept your eyes and hands busy with detergent and fabric softener and you expected that by the time you'd have turned the machine on, Steve would be behind the closed door of is bedroom.

But instead, he stayed put beside you.

“Hey, um,”

Oh no.

“Eddie... Eddie told me that you were trying to get pregnant,”

Steve your full dick's out, you thought, but just nodded.

“And that it's not... going well? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable this morning,”

Steve you're making me uncomfortable right now, you though, but just said, “No, don'y worry about it, you're good,”

“I don't know, I felt bad anyway. Can't be easy.”

It wasn't. It was very difficult, in fact.

But talking to Steve who had his own equivalent of a wet T-shirt contest going on right beside you was even more difficult.

You guessed Steve saw you grow more uneasy by the second, saw you avoid any and all contact as you rushed to turn the washing machine on, because what he did next made you freeze on the spot.

“Hey, come here,”

Steve reached a hand, touched your shoulder and turned you towards him before he bent down to hug you.

Steve was stood in a wet pair of boxers that showcased his penis perfectly and hugged you because his best friend wasn't successful at knocking you up.

What the fuck was going on?

You didn't hug back, held your arms straight down by your sides, and Steve mistook it for something else being wrong.

“Oh, honey,” Steve hugged tighter and then, just before he pulled back entirely, he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

That's what you told yourself.

Just a kiss to the cheek.

Friends could kiss friends on the cheek.

Friends kissed friends on the cheek all the time.

You ignored how it touched the corner of your mouth.

You ignored how it lingered there for a little too long, and when Steve broke it, his lips stayed close for a few seconds longer. Too close. Nose nuzzling close.

You ignored how neither of you had pulled away. How the air had suddenly become tense in a different way. How Steve's hold on you suddenly felt electric and on fire and you couldn't help the thick swallow that followed, even though it was just a kiss to your cheek.

Steve loosened his grip, and in a dumb stroke of whatever the fuck came over you, you grabbed his arm and held his in place. Around you. Where you wanted it.

Eye-contact.

Oh no.

This was it.

You couldn't help the way your eyes shot down at Steve's lips, and you knew that Steve noticed. Knew that he must have seen that.

More than friends echoed in your mind. Steve had said that. And you'd agreed.

You moved like you were about to kiss, heads tilting and moving in, but then you stopped. You both stopped.

Good, you thought. Smart.

But your breath shuddered, and then Steve inhaled deeply and softly said, "No regrets," the normal way before he backed away turned and slipped into his room.

Oh fuck.

Shit.

That was it.

Regrets.

Yes regrets.

Future regrets that you could see on the horizon. Staring at you. They were everywhere. Regrets fucking everywhere.

---

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[thecoffeelovingfreak]

as long as you love me so

• jade leech x gn!reader • 1162 words • no warnings! • original prompt requested by anon!

for 'the snow's coming down', my winter event ❄

~~~

When you agreed to go on a hike with Jade, the forecast had only predicted a 20% drizzle. Now, as powdery snow continued showering, you realized just how quickly weather could outrun a meteorologist. It wasn't as though the path was untraversable, but snow piles up quickly and it would be safer to find a place to wait out the storm.

"I believe there is a cabin up ahead where we can rest and wait for the storm to pass." Jade spoke casually from beside you.

You nodded your head and continued forward, doing your best to block the snow from your eyes and ignore the chill of your nose.

Soon enough, a large well-lit cottage appeared. Smoke billowed out of the chimney, and the snow surrounding it seemed to have been recently cleared. To the left of the cabin was a large barn-like building with the same log style build. To the right was a garden, long dead and plagued by winter frost.

Climbing up the steps to the front door, you rapped lightly on the wood in an attempt to be courteous. As soon as your hand fell back to your side, the door opened to reveal a man with mid-length white hair wearing a green sweater and black pants.

"Hello, there! It's not very often I get any visitors during this time of year!" he chuckled, "Please, come in. There's no point in staying cold when I've got a lovely fire in here!"

The man opened the door wider and casted his arm towards the main room. With two quiet 'thank you's you found yourself sitting on a worn yet comfortable patterned loveseat next to Jade.

The middle aged man – Gunther – as you eventually discovered, disappeared into the kitchen with the promise of hot coffee, leaving you alone with the teal-haired vice housewarden.

"The kindness of strangers never fails to fascinate me."

You turned your head to look at Jade, retorting, "Really? What else fascinates you?"

His eyes lit up, but you continued: "Besides mushrooms."

His hand drifted to his chest almost subconsciously, but his eyes twinkled.

"How rude."

"I'm being honest, Jade! I want to learn more about you.

His features became laced with contemplation, before his eyes looked amused.

"You."

You hummed before asking, "What do you mean?"

"I am fascinated by you." 

Your cheeks involuntarily heated, as you turned your head to the fireplace. He chuckled quietly at your reaction as the owner of the house entered the room holding two steaming mugs and a golden key.

"Here you go." he said, handing each of you your coffee cups.

You thanked him before quickly taking a sip of the warm bitter drink, trying to calm your heart and save face.

"This is the key to my guest house! You're welcome to spend the night there, if you wish. I have a reservoir of wood between my cabin and said house, so feel free to take what you need."

With an expression of gratitude, Jade took the key.

"If you'll excuse me I have some paperwork I need to finish, but I will still be available if you need me." Gunther stated before walking towards a closed room – most likely his office.

Finishing your coffee, you placed your mug next to your companion's empty one and followed him out of your lovely host's home.

—

Gunther's guest house was quaint and carried a woodsy charm. The decoration consisted of many of his antiques and small personal items. Two paintings hung beautifully – one on the west wall depicting the local sunset, and the one on the east wall displaying the sunrise. A fireplace claimed the northern wall with the front door, and the southern wall’s arrangement was overtaken by a large bed.

With a simple spell by Jade, the fireplace was voluminously lit. Investigating Gunther’s antiques further, you found an old phonograph and a collection of 45s that appeared to be mostly traditional pop.

As you carded through the sets, a voice sounded in your right ear.

“What have you found, Y/n?”

You jolted lightly as a chill ran down your spine. Quickly recollecting yourself you replied,

“Some old records, however, I’m not sure from what decade.”

Moving slightly to the left, you allowed for Jade to view them as well. After looking at 5 more, his hand reached out to grab one with a half white and half purple label.

“If my memory serves me correctly, we have this exact record at the Lounge – though it is only a copy from 50 years ago, as that was the closest Azul could get to a primary pressing. I must admit it is quite charming to hold an original, given that this record is about 75 years old.” 

His tone carried interest and his movements seemed almost… eager… as he placed the record on its plateau and set the needle down.

As the smooth instrumental melody began, your curiosity of this new world’s music led you to ask who the artist was.

“Beau Carmichael. He was a popular serenader during his time and is now considered a ‘classic’, if you will.”

When the serenader’s voice began, you understood the public’s admiration for him. Mellow and deep vocals echoed soothingly around the small guest house, and the continuous soft melody of the song only added to that feeling.

Your heart started to race, however, as Jade held out his hand. You took it without question and let him guide you into a graceful dance. Thoughts raced through your head, but you tried using the music to calm you down. Nevertheless, when you really focused on the lyrics of the song you couldn’t help but think that Jade’s choice of record was deliberate. And when you looked back at the past three months – noticing the momentary slips in his mask, the seemingly genuine curiosity towards you, and the almost uncharacteristic consideration and protection he provided – you thought yourself a fool.

As your eyes met his olive and gold ones, you watched as he analyzed your features – most likely reading your thoughts. When he seemed satisfied with your conclusion, his gaze appeared adoring.

A small smirk overcame his features as his charming voice quietly sung the concluding lyrics, “I’m confessin’ that I love you.”

—

The next morning the storm had cleared, leaving Gunther with plenty of work to do before the sun decided to pitch in. After bundling up, the middle-aged man grabbed his shovel and set out to clear his property. At the same time he left his cabin, his two guests left his second house. With an exchange of good mornings, goodbyes, and a return of the home’s key, the couple set off. Upon closer inspection, the white-haired man noticed a small note attached to the golden key.

Thank you for your assistance, Gunther. While the snow was unexpected, it only made this opportunity all the more perfect. And, if you’re curious to know, my plan did work.

- Jade

[archoniluthradanar]

A Day at the Fair with the Volturi Masters

The third place winner for the Summer Fun with the Volturi Masters, story poll results.

A Day at the Fair with the Volturi Masters

When you were younger, you'd look forward to the State Fair every Summer. There were the rides, the games, and the unhealthy food. When you heard about a fair coming to the Pisa area, you asked Aro if you all could go so you could share your youthful experiences.

Aro asks you if it can be done in a day, and you assure him it will take less time than the baseball game since it's here in Italy. You try to make it sound like fun, but Aro's curiosity is what cinches the trip. You agree to drive while the masters enjoy the ride.

You thank all the masters for letting you get out to enjoy some fun. You wouldn't mind going out alone, but know they would never allow you to go so far without protection, and they like providing that. They're learning a lot from you about modern humans. Perhaps in time you wonder if they'll tire of these trips and allow Felix or Demetri to go with you instead.

Once you've parked the car, you get out and wait for the masters. Reaching the Midway, you feel the excitement of the music and smells and lights that is the fair. The Ferris Wheel looms in front of you. Why does it seem taller now than when you were child?

"Do you wish to ride that?" Aro asks. He has seen nothing like it.

"Yes, but don't make me ride with Caius. He'll rock the basket and then we'll fall. No biggie for him. He's impervious to damage, or so I assume. If I fall, I go splat."

Caius makes a face at you, laughing low as if everything you said were true. "Our little human is somewhat of a coward then," Caius remarked teasingly. It just made you want to punch him on the arm, but that would hurt you more than him.

"And Aro, you will be so curious about everything while going round and round, you'll ignore me for the most part. I think I want to ride with Marcus. He'll sit quietly and let me hold onto him."

"If you wish to ride with Marcus, that's fine with us, my dear," Aro says. "But I want to ride with you first." He stares at you, unblinking, his head slightly tilted, something you've learned means he won't take no for an answer.

You look to Marcus who nods at you, giving his consent to linger until you and Aro are done.

You both stand in line, waiting for the baskets to be emptied and reloaded with new riders. When your basket arrives and you are allowed onboard, you and Aro sit opposite one another.

Aro settles in place in the basket, giving you a side glance that you catch and turn to give the vampire a smile. "My dear, are you happy with us?"

Surprised at the question, you answer truthfully, "Yes, Aro, I am. You've been kind and generous to me since i stumbled into this place. I feel safe and protected here. I'm also enjoying sharing human experiences with you all. Is there a reason you're asking me such a question? Do you doubt my loyalty to you all?"

"Not at all. It's just that I've noticed you give Marcus a great deal of attention."

You wonder why Aro is so concerned to whom you give your 'attention'. "Is there a problem? He seems to like me, but if he came to you to ask you to talk to me..."

"You misunderstand, my dear. I like that you appreciate our Marcus. I wonder, how much do you care about him?"

You inhale, worried about where this line of questioning is going. Why would Aro be concerned? "I love you all, you know that. You're intelligent and very gracious when I ask questions. I've learned a lot from you. You're all attractive as hell and you're all..." You blush pink, making Aro grin. "...wonderful lovers. But when I'm with Marcus, he's like a warm blanket on a chilly day. Besides, you and Caius have your mates. Marcus has no one. I guess I feel protective of him."

"As he does you, my dear. I think you may have noticed." Aro looked around the fair when the basket stopped at the top.

You think about Aro's words. How do you feel about Marcus? You love him, but are you in love with him? You remembered his touches, his kisses, and how they set you on fire that day at the park. Now you wonder if you two were alone in his bedroom, with no one else around, what would it be like. Would it be all the sweeter, just the two of you. Oh god, now you're just giving Aro more to read.

"Dear one, you seem lost in thought. I didn't mean to distress you in any way."

"Aro, can we just let things go as they are, and if Marcus lets me know that he...wants more, then he and I can discuss that. Alone."

Aro smiles. "Of course. You are a treasure to us all in any case." He leans over and kisses your cheek, then holds your warm hand in his cold one. The ride begins again, and your stomach is left upstairs as the basket drops toward the ground before heading back up and around again. You laugh from the sensation, and Aro laughs with you.

When your turn is done, and the ride attendant lets you out of the basket, you both walk down the ramp to the waiting masters.

"I didn't know playing kissy-face was part of the ride, Aro," Caius says, one brow raised.

"Caius, where ever did you hear that term," you ask, astounded he knows any modern slang, as old as he is.

"I want to ride with you, so we can do that too," he demands.

You walk up to him and place your hands on his cool face. You lean in and kiss him deeply, your lips parted. When you step back, a sigh leaves your lips.

Taking this as a challenge, Caius grabs your hand and cuts the line to hop into the next basket. You give the attendant a look of apology and get in, sitting across from Caius.

You look back at Marcus and shrug, but he smiles, knowing Caius longer than you have. You point a finger at your ride partner, telling him he'd better not rock the basket, or he may end up with vomit on his shoes.

"That's not very romantic, dear one." He puts an arm around you and draws you closer, but just before he kisses you, Caius hears Aro down below ordering him to let you go.

"It's not like I'm holding her hostage, brother."

To you, it's strange to hear these two speaking with one another as if they were talking to themselves. She could barely hear Aro at all.

Caius pouts while you laugh. "I still love you," you tell him, drawing a smile from him.

When the ride is over, you want to take advantage of your companion's vampire strengths.

You walk down the lines of games, and eventually see a stuffed animal you want. It's a giant gorilla, dark brown, with soft and fluffy fur. "One of you has got to play this game. Your hand-eye coordination is perfect, and your strength would take down every one of those bottles."

"Is that the goal, to knock down all the bottles?" Aro asks.

"Yes! If you knock down a total of 10 bottles, I win...that," you say, pointing at the gorilla.

Caius scoffs. "You want that horrid thing!"

You protest because you love large stuffed animals. "It's not horrid. It's looks very comfy, and something nice to hug at night."

Caius smirks. saying, "If you want something to hug at night, I'll volunteer."

You glare at Caius in mock anger. "You're hard and cold, Caius. It's not the same as a soft, warm, animal-shaped...toy thing."

You look up at Marcus, who is staring at you, forcing you to look away. Your cheeks suddenly feel warm. When Caius and Aro walk toward the game booth, you whisper so low, you hope only Marcus will hear you. "There are other things I wouldn't mind hugging," is all you say, not even looking at him standing behind you. You start to head for the game booth to join the masters, feeling a cool hand lightly rest on the small of your back.

Caius knocks over the requisite number of bottles, winning easily. You point at the gorilla so the booth attendant can pick it off the top of the booth. He hands it to you, congratulating you and Caius. You give the blonde vampire a kiss, thanking him.

You all continue to wander the gaming area, until Aro stops in front of a booth.

"So, what is the goal of this game," Aro asks, examining another booth.

"See those balloons. You try to hit them with these darts. You get three tries. It's not impossible, but the darts need to be pointed just so to pop the balloons. The heads are probably dulled, so there again, strength helps.

"Too simple," Caius growls.

"Yeah, for you. With your hand-eye coordination, your aim can't miss."

Both Caius and Aro give it a try, winning you a beautiful blue vase and a purple velvet cushion you decide would look good on your bed.

Marcus prefers standing behind you, both hands on your shoulders. You can feel his cool breath on your head, giving you goosebumps.

You spy a booth selling food, and cry for joy, seeing ice creme. Pints of the cold treat in every flavour tempt you. "I'll be right back," you tell the masters. You pick out a pint of Cookies and Creme, grab a plastic spoon, and begin to eat the the ice creme. The masters watch you with curiosity. "Alright, maybe I'm prepping for the day I no longer get to eat real food. Sue me." You take a large scoop of the ice creme on your spoon, and eat most, but some is left so you use your tongue to lick off the remaining ice creme.

You look up at Caius, who is staring at you, his eyes darkening to crimson. "What?" you ask, your spoon held in mid-air. He takes a step closer to you, a grin on his flawless face. "Aro!" you call out.

"Brother!" Aro says, scolding the blonde vampire.

"I meant nothing," he tells you. "It's just that your tongue would be better suited licking something else."

You blush furiously, uncomfortable with the sexual innuendo Caius often teases you with. It's not that it offends you, but you never know when or if he's being serious. The masters are all beautiful men, and they often set your mind to daydreaming, but you prefer to be more of an assistant to them, not a sexual plaything.

"Yes, well, when you taste like Cookies and Creme..." You wink at him and turn back to the fair, looking for something else you want to enjoy.

Your little group wanders around when you come across an insignificant ride all fair midways seem to have, the Haunted House. You throw your empty ice creme pint in a trash container and turn to the masters, "Who wants to ride with me?"

"What is this, my dear?" Aro asks you.

"it's supposed to scare people, make them jump and scream."

"We can do that," Caius says proudly sneering. "Do you know how many humans I've made scream?"

You take his arm and walk with him. "I imagine it's been hundreds, thousands even. But this is fun screaming, not fear screaming. Do you understand the difference?"

"Hmm, doesn't seem fun screaming would be much fun for me."

Marcus is suddenly at your side. He gives the gorilla to Caius to hold while you're on the ride. "Let us go on this together while Aro teaches Caius the difference between scaring humans and killing them." Marcus takes your hand and heads to the ticket cage for the so-called Haunted House ride. He buys two tickets and leads you to the waiting car that rumbles along the old track, breaking through the double-door entrance and into the dark building.

Even though you know you're not afraid, you still hate being startled when people jump out at you. "Now Marcus, please remember if someone jumps out at us, they're just part of the show. Do not attack anyone."

You think you hear a low chortling coming from Marcus, and turn to look up at him. When his arm encircles you, you smile and nestle against him.

The car moves forward into the darkness, fake skeletons and stuffed monsters all around you. "You know, Marcus, since I've met you and the other Volturi, I find I'm not scared of monsters anymore."

"Is that so, child?"

"Yes, absolutely. I'm more frightened of a human with a gun than any of you."

"If you did not know us personally and met us on a dark night, would you be afraid then?" Marcs asked, curious.

"I'd be afraid...that you'd kill and not change me."

He let out a laugh and tightened his arm around you. You love to hear his laugh since it tells you Marcus is feeling free to enjoy life again. He has not yet told you it's because of you.

The car turns a corner and you find yourselves trying to fend off fake but entangling cobwebs. You laugh in a simple amused way, but wish you could just talk to Marcus uninterrupted by the ridiculous props eager to eat you. You hear screams in the distance and wonder if someone was actually being killed since this place is as far from scary as it could possibly be. But then with Marcus beside you, you have no need to be afraid of anything.

You gather your courage and ask the tall master, "Marcus, if you don't mind me asking, what are your feelings for me? I know how Aro feels about me, and Caius, well the less said about him, the better. I mean I love you all, even Caius. But..."

Before you can say another word, you feel Marcus' cold hand on your chin, turning your face toward him. He leans in to kiss you, his fingers on your cheek while his hand holds your chin. When he pulls back, his thumb brushes across your lips.

Marcus sits back, his arm resting on the outer side of the car, his other arm still around you.

You peer up at him in the darkness, and even though you can barely see his expression, you feel his is one of self-satisfaction. You smile and lean into his cool body, one hand resting on his thigh.

The car breaks through the exit doors and swings around the track to sit outside once more. Aro notices you and Marcus seated in the car, then watches his brother get up, holding his hand out to you. He smiles at the visible sparks between the two of you and nods to himself.

You feel suddenly very tired. The kiss from Marcus made you want more, but when the ride ended, it's as if you shut down and simply wanted to sleep.

"It is time to return home, brothers. Our little human seems to have faded, energy-wise, and needs her rest." Marcus holds onto to you, feeling picking you up in his arms would not look seemly in front of all these humans. When you all reach the car, Aro decides he will drive back to the castle. Marcus slides you into the back seat, and lets you fall against him, your hands snuggling under your chin while you attempt to nap. Caius passes the hairy gorilla back to Marcus, who sets it aside. He'd rather you be hugging him at the moment.

You nestle close to him, letting his sweet scent lull you to sleep.

[tired-teacher-blog]

Hello! I hope you're doing well. Could you perhaps write a scenario Ive had for awhile? So basically, a new student transfers into Class 1A who identifies as Genderfluid, is physically female but feels more comfortable wearing the male uniform. Upon meeting the new student Iida freaks out on them due to his serious, studious nature and wholeheartedly believes that a "girl" should wear the female uniform. He then feels bad after Aizawa explains things to him.

I hope you're doing well too honey! Here is my input so I hope you enjoy it 😘

Title : Odd one out

Characters : Aizawa (Dadzawa)/ Iida/ Genderfluid reader

Genre : Angst/ Heartwarming mostly

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

_ "Alright, be quiet," mr Aizawa's fist pounded on the table as he coerced his students to settle down while he introduced you to them, "this is y/n, she will be your new classmate so treat her nicely."

You took a quick look around the classroom before bowing your head down, "it's a pleasure to meet you all."

_ "You'll be sitting over there right next to Iida, he's our class representative so if you have any questions he'll be happy to help," your new teacher gestured you to take your seat, and you thanked him quietly before walking straight to your designated spot.

It was hard ignoring everyone's questioning looks– not that you were surprised to be the subject of their observation anyway, as you weren't only the new kid at school, but also had a unique look that managed to turn every head your way.

Ever since you were a little girl, you were expected to speak, dress, and act a certain way that mostly left you feeling shackled.

You had never been free to decide those things for yourself since your choices were always met with strong objections.

_"You're a girl, never forget that."

_"No, you can't cut your hair short."

_"Oh look at you, finally dressed the way you should."

_"I don't get you, seems to me like you have no idea what you want for yourself."

But that wasn't true, since you've always known what you wanted.

You simply wanted to be free, and hated following social norms and limiting yourself to what's expected of you as a girl.

_ "Don't forget to hand in your assignments in time am I clear?" your teacher warned in that same tired monotone voice before dismissing everyone as the session came to an end.

_ "Excuse me y/n, may I speak with you?" it was that class representative guy, Iida was it? You would definitely need some time to learn everyone's name.

_ "Yes sure." you offered him a nervous smile as you continued clearing your desk.

_ "First, let me welcome you properly and wish you a nice stay among us," he then took a deep breath and straightened his glasses before carrying on, "I've noticed that for some reason you're wearing the boys' uniform instead of the girls', may I ask why?" this guy is the same age as you are, but for some reason he had a more mature demeanor than everyone else did.

_ "I'm more comfortable dressing this way. Will it be a problem?" there you were, facing another confused soul.

_ "But you are a female y/n! School regulations are clear, and state that what you're wearing is specifically designed for male students, so please make sure to respect our dress code and to wear a proper one starting tomorrow." this guy is strict, and soon you started to understand why he was picked to be the class rep out of everyone else.

_ "I don't believe I'm breaking any rules, and I'm not trying to be controversial, it's just.." you lowered your head and squeezed your eyes shut as you prepared to explain yourself the way you had been doing your whole life, "I'm gender fluid."

He blinked a few times in obvious confusion, "what does that mean?"

_ "Simply put, it means not being restricted to only one gender identity." okay it's true, but who said that?

Your head snapped up to follow the voice, and your eyes widened as you found your teacher approaching your desk.

_ "Mr Aizawa! you're still here sir?" your class rep was clearly as oblivious as you were of your teacher's presence.

_ "I'm sorry, I wasn't going to interfere but I guess I probably should?" his eyes were on you, almost as if he wanted your permission first.

It was unexpected, usually no one cares enough to try and learn about you, and instead jump into their own judgements and conclusions.

You nodded slowly and turned to look at your classmate who seemed increasingly tense.

_ "Sir, we were talking about the school uniform she has chosen to wear."

_ "I know, there is nothing wrong with what she's wearing though, that's still our school's uniform."

_ "But sir, she's a girl. There is a reason why we do not have a unisex uniform."

_ "You're disregarding her gender identity though, which has nothing to do with sex. Let me ask you something, how would you feel about being forced to speak or act in a certain manner just because that's what's expected of you? Never mind how you feel about it."

_ "If I have to do it I will, even if I don't like it."

_ "Wrong answer, you shouldn't force yourself to do something you're not comfortable doing just to gain everyone else's approval," your teacher placed a palm over the confused boy's shoulder, "as long as you're not hurting anyone, you should be free to live however you want, and in that regard I believe that's what y/n is doing. She's not breaking any rules or disrespecting anyone, she just wants to freely dress and act the way that makes her happy. We should all respect that."

Your eyes moved between your new teacher and classmate, it was mesmerizing how knowledgeable and accepting Mr Aizawa seemed to be, and the smile that found its way to your face was proof of how happy you were.

_ "You're aiming to be a hero Iida, and I believe that one day you'll be able to make your brother proud, but to do that you'll need to accept others' differences and see them as unique individuals since you'll be a hero to everyone despite their distinctions."

_ "I've never thought of it this way before sir and I believe you're right, which means I owe y/n an apology," your class rep averted his eyes in embarrassment before bowing down, "please forgive me y/n, I never meant to disrespect or belittle you. I was simply ignorant of your preferences, but I promise to learn more and to never run to judgement. This was a good first lesson." he straightened his back and offered you an apologetic smile that you returned immediately.

_ "I'm happy this happened, and you know what? You can ask me about anything that confuses you, I don't mind at all."

All the anxieties and self doubt that accompanied you on your first day, had left instantly after this conversation.

_ "Alright, now that everything is cleared up, get out of my classroom, I still need my nap."

You were in for an adventure, with unique teachers and unique students, and you could barely wait to start your journey alongside them.

_ "Yes sir! Right away!" Iida pulled you up and pushed you out quickly, as you blinked in confusion, "let's go y/n I'll explain later."

[rainbows-fanfics]

Help Unwanted (Chapter 8)

Summary: After losing the Pirate, Deacon is unwillingly paired with a partner to help with his job. The only problem is - they can't stand each other, and time is dwindling until he can re-capture all his lost prisoners.

Human AU of the Armada from Pirate101.

Pairings: Deacon/Queen!Deacon, Deacon/OC

--

After Deacon and Dea finished their little conversation at the piano, they climbed the stairs in the back of the room. It was quiet up here compared to the commotion below, which was now muffled underneath the floor. The hallway they walked through was dimly illuminated by a few lanterns. She observed the hanging black-and-white photographs and peeling wallpaper around them in distaste. She was glad they wouldn’t be staying here for long. 

“I have a question,” She dragged out slowly, eying the doors they passed. “Aren’t rooms in saloons like these usually used for… prostitutes ..?” 

“They can be.” He replied. He stopped at one door and slid the key into the lock. A revelation hit her and she pointed at him with a small gasp. 

“...So that's why you’re a recurring customer here!"

He ignored her comment and opened the door to their room. She let her mind wander as they stepped through the doorway. There were two full-sized beds and a pair of nightstands with lamps on them. A door led to a small bathroom, there was a reasonably-sized closet, and a desk placed in front of a lone window. She imagined succumbing to boredom if she had to spend more than 5 minutes in here.

She shuddered as she approached the mattresses. “I hate to think how much sex these things have seen...” 

“More than either of us can count,” He mumbled, briefly searching through the drawers. He almost laughed at the ironic placement of a bible.

“I would rather sleep back on the ship.” 

“You'll just have to deal with it, then.'”

She opened her mouth to complain, but held her tongue when he reached into his coat and grabbed a dossier. He handed it to her patiently. She opened the file with curious eyes. It contained all the information about their current target. He brushed past her to head to the door.

“Read that while I go and fetch our things. You'll need to know what's in there." 

She nodded, allowing him to leave the room. 

By the time Deacon came back, Dea had finished reading all the papers. She threw the folder onto the desk and went to sit on the edge of the bed before she stopped herself. She moved to the chair instead and crossed her arms. She picked up her head to look at him. 

"That man's disgusting," He could hear her quietly grinding her teeth. "Just why had he been targeting the Armada, anyway?"

"From what I learned, his past lover enlisted and that made him furious. He had a history of stalking her, and claims that we took her ‘away’ from him when we provided her protection. He likely found shelter in Santo Pollo after escaping his arrest.”

"Dios mío… "

"I should warn you - most fugitives I capture are the scum of the Spiral. I don't exactly work clean." 

"I'll be more than happy to give this bastard what's coming to him." She peeked over to the large bag he carried into the room. "What's in that?"

He pulled out a few pieces of clothing. "-Our disguises."

"So we really are going undercover..."

"Indeed. I had to contact Queen to make sure your size was right. We’ll try them on in the morning."

She tilted her head, attempting to remember when she ever caught him talking with anybody . "When did you have the time to do all of this..?"

"I've planned our entire journey before we ever left Valencia.” He set it aside and handed her a smaller bag that contained her things. “We'll head to Santo Pollo tomorrow."

He moved to set his things on the nightstand and hung their disguises in the closet. He placed a couple of books down on the desk while Dea eyed her bed warily. She peeled off the top layer before reluctantly laying down. It was a little comfortable, but that was definitely because the mattress had been worn in.

She shivered.

Deacon began writing on a few papers with one of his books propped open. She watched him scribble away until the room darkened. By then, he flicked on a nearby lamp and resumed what he'd been doing. She shuffled a little in the background, starting to get restless.

He eventually set down his pencil and stood from the chair, taking a brief glance outside. "I should get us something to eat before it gets too late."

She didn't stop him when he moved to the door. Her stomach felt like it was going to eat itself. They didn't have their usual meal today on account of their… detour this morning. She was getting a little sick of the MREs back on the ship,  so she was craving to eat *actual* food again.

He dismissed himself, promising a prompt return, and she waited patiently in the meantime. After some time passed, boredom got the best of Dea and she climbed back down into the main floor of the saloon.

—--

She wanted to have a good night out for a change, and ordered a heavier drink this time around. The unfortunate part of working for the Armada meant that she was always busy, and had no idle hours for partying. Not that she was the reckless type - but she sort of missed the social scene, after being kept from it. Being forced to share a room with the same man for several weeks was starting to make her seek company from others.

'This will have to do ,' She thought to herself.

She was halfway through her glass when a man sat next to her. Judging by his outfit, he worked as a miner in one of the local sites. His hair was long and he sported yellow leather gauntlets with overalls. His skin was dirty and his beard looked like it hadn't been washed in ages.

"Good evenin'." He greeted. 

She drummed her fingers on the glass. She wasn't feeling anything yet, which was disappointing, but also a relief right now. "Hi." 

"Say…I saw ya' here earlier with a fella'. Wouldn't happen ta' be yer' beau, would he?"

"No," She answered, observing the shelves of liquor in front of them. 

"Well then, might I say yer' awfully pretty! I mean…I'm guessin' you are, under that thing yer' wearin' on your face." He looked at her sideways. "What's with the mask?" 

"I'm from Valencia," She said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The man stared at her before scratching the inside of his ear.

"Is that the fancy place with all them unicorns?"

Dea rolled her eyes. The good part about hiding her face meant she didn't have to smile. "-Thaaaat's the one."

He watched her chug the rest of the liquid before his very eyes. The moment she set it down, he perked up in his seat. "Might I buy the pretty lady another one?"

"No thanks," She declined. She knew where this scene went - a stranger would offer her drink after drink in hopes of getting her wasted, then he would have his way with her later that night. She wasn't stupid enough to fall for that.

"Gosh! I just wanna' be polite. You can pick anythin' ya' want. And I won't impose after that, I promise."

She mused the idea for several minutes. Right when he was about to leave, she held up a finger to the bartender. "Get me a long island iced tea."

The alcohol must have hit her in the midst of their conversation, because she was laughing after every sentence he spoke. He wasn't necessarily a funny guy, nor were the tales of his childhood entertaining in any way, but her mind felt bubbly and she couldn't focus on anything except the strange-sounding words coming out of his mouth. 

"---So my pa comes out an' starts hollerin' at my brother and I to get out of them bushes! We were panickin', ya' see, cause we thought he knew 'bout the branding iron..! But he was jus' mad that we didn't eat my ma's pie. Boy, were we relieved..! You wouldn't believe the type of whoopin' we used ta' get back then…" 

An unbecoming snort came out of her nose. She felt...warm. Not entirely comfortable, but she could listen to this all night if she could. She slid the empty glass forward and waved a hand when the bartender offered to refill it for her. Judging by his look, it was clear her inebriation was becoming obvious. 

She brought her gaze up in time to spot Deacon coming through the two swinging doors out front. He was carrying a bag that undoubtedly held their dinner. He was about to walk straight past her until their eyes met, and then he paused in his steps. He observed her slumped posture before darting his attention over to the gentleman she'd just met. 

For some reason, she felt like she'd been caught doing something obscene, and froze in her movements. But then the man said more of those funny words and she broke down laughing again.

"How much has she had to drink?" Deacon asked the stranger, who puffed out his cheeks as he got a good look at her. Dea had her head rested on the counter, completely turned away from the two of them. She looked like she'd pass out at any minute.

"She was holdin' it together 'til now. I wouldn't keep her out too long, if I were you."

He took the hint and tugged on her sleeve, urging his co-captain from her seat. "It's time to leave."

Dea protested, shrugging his hand off with a huff. "What!? No! This man here, Rick– Um…Wait. What was your name, again?" 

He smiled patiently. "Brody."

"¡Gracias, mi querido hombre! Brody was just telling me about the time he-"

To her utter astonishment, Deacon lifted her off from the stool with no hassle. She wobbled a bit in his grip at first. He had to shuffle to balance her over his shoulder while carrying the food in his other hand. Her drunken mind could barely comprehend what happened, except for the fact that she was looking at the floor now. 

He dipped his head politely. "Grazie."

Brody waved it off as he watched the masked figure carry his lookalike up the stairs. When they disappeared from view, the emissary fumbled while he carried her. He was thankful their room wasn't far, and practically threw Dea on the bed once they were inside, just to be relieved from the weight on his arm. 

She landed safely on her back, but didn't move. She spent an awfully long time staring at the ceiling. He set down the bag and carefully removed their food, arranging the plastic cutlery with their servings. 

Deacon watched as her eyelids fought to stay open. He started with an amused tone, "Far be it from me for criticizing a lady getting wasted on her job, but–"

"-I'm not!" She defended, turning to look at him. "Just…a little tipsy. Is that so bad? Wanting to wind down a little bit?" 

"Might I suggest not blindly trusting pitmans at the bar? Not every stranger you meet out here is a good-intended oaf like him.”

She placed a hand on her chest, acting offended at his words. "How dare you say that about my new friend, Bret!?" 

He didn't want to bother at this point, though the situation was a little funny. He hadn’t witnessed her intoxicated like this, but made a mental note not to leave her alone at a bar again. He handed Dea her boxed food, which made her sit up. She took it eagerly from his hands and threw it open, only to blink in intimidation at what she saw.

"This…is a lot of beef."

"Good luck finding anything else here." Deacon scoffed as he reached for his plastic fork. 

She shrugged before digging her utensil in to retrieve a bite, only for the food to gracelessly clash against her mask. She groaned in frustration. She had no second thought as she unbuttoned the sides of her zendale. Her company’s eyes flew over to her direction as she clutched the edge of her mask and began to lift. Before it could leave her face, he jumped from his chair and shot out his hand to grip her wrist tightly.

"Dea." He warned. 

She jumped as his gloved hand latched onto hers. She looked at him in a mix of offense and confusion. But then she realized where her hand was and turned rigid. She was about to take off her mask! Right in FRONT of him! Her heart beat rapidly at the realization, and the sober part of Dea inwardly scolded her for her thoughtlessness. 

He removed his grip and stood to his feet, noting the heavy air in the room. "'I’ll…go eat in the bathroom."

She scrunched up her nose. The unappetizing thought was tenfold to her right now. "No, that's gross. Let me just-"

He gave her no chance to stop him, disappearing through the other door in the room. There was an audible sound of the lock latching afterwards. Dea sat there staring at the wood before glancing down at the food still sitting in her lap. Its smell was growing enticing as the seconds ticked by. Her growling stomach wasn’t making things any easier. In a moment of defeat, she threw off her mask and hungrily ate the food. She was thankful Deacon hadn’t been in the same room when she did this. 

She wanted to wait for her partner before heading to bed. But the dizzy feeling encompassing her head made the room suddenly turn fuzzy. Her head fell to the pillow in a slow movement, and she was passed out in only a minute.

Deacon tightly gripped the plastic fork. He didn’t unclench it at all during his time in the bathroom. 

It was a grimy place that likely didn’t see much cleaning. Knowing what these rooms were for, he could understand that. The lodgings back in Valencia were grand and impeccably clean. But in his line of work, he’d stayed at much more unsavory motels before. Places he would never willingly take Dea to. For this reason, his appetite was practically nonexistent as he stood there. He wasn’t sure where to place down his food, so he held it instead. 

He was as still as a statue, staring at the tilted floor in complete silence. 

He was glad he looked up when he did to catch her removing her zendale. He hadn’t stopped her then, despite how much he should’ve. He reasoned with himself that she was feeling hot, probably from the drinks, and needed to get some air. Unfortunately, he’d been distracted by the sight she unknowingly exposed to him. He only caught her trying to take off her mask at the last second. He’d never moved so quickly in his life. 

Dea had messy black hair that fell to her shoulders. Her ears were also pierced - he recalled seeing a small pair of blue earrings on them. But he refused to indulge any further when he realized what she was doing. He couldn’t live with himself if he *had* seen her face - revealed in a drunken stupor…

It was a little ironic, he thought. He’d been prying into her personal life since they started working together, wishing to know her identity just to get a peek at her credentials. And here had been the golden opportunity to know what she looked like. He would have undoubtedly memorized her face and shortly scoured the Armada’s files to find everything he needed. 

But things were different now. He knew how much Dea valued her privacy; the countless requests for him to look away or step into another room when it was needed...He could respect the mysterious requirement for a mask - he donned one himself, after all. And he would loathe himself if his moment of vulnerability came from having one too many drinks in a night. He couldn’t let Dea make that mistake. Not when he was of sound mind and she wasn’t.

He leaned against the wall, trying to rid these images from his mind, for her sake. After spending what felt like an eternity in that restroom, he realized he couldn’t. He unlocked the door and gripped the handle. For a second, he felt unsure. Considering what just happened, walking in on her mask-less was the last thing he wanted. He pressed the side of his head against the door to listen for any sounds. All was quiet. Hesitantly, he opened it just a sliver and called out to the room.

"Dea?"

Upon getting no response, he opened the door further until he could see her figure sprawled out awkwardly on the bed. She had fallen asleep with her mask on.

[emocka]

Missing keys

Who wants a sarcastic reader?

Answer: me

Scaramouch:

You dipped the moment the words 'teaching you to drive' came out of his mouth.

He sighed rubbing his face. Here we go again.

Every week the same routine. He say it you run like a bat out of hell. Hes give you ten minutes to return.

Not today. Screw the ten minutes. Let the goose chase begin. He walked out the door letting the dog follow. Starting with the mail box he worked his way around the house. He could hear you moving around the spare bedroom. But you booked it when you saw him.

After a half hour he was ready to give up when an idea came to him. He opened the door then closed it. Walking to the hallway he sank to his knees and waited. You peaked your head out missing over him completely. Skipping down the hall tour world was turned upside down. Scaramouch had wrapped his arms around your legs and stood up essentially throwing you over his shoulder.

You squirmed as much as you could. But it was no use. Giving up in the end you dug your elbows in his back and rested your face in your hands. You called the dog over.

'Be a good girl. I'll be back in five minutes.' You said.

'You will not. i have handcuffs. You'll be cuffed to me while you learn and get your license. Your getting it whether or not you like it'

'Oh come on!' You whined. 'Fine. You win'

He smirked and went to the car. He put you down then shoved you in the driver side. Locking the doors he walked around. Not after you unlocked the door to make an escape.

He got in and held the cuffs up. You held your arm up. Cuffing your wrists together he threw the key in the back.

He was going regret that later. Sort of regret. Following his instructions you learned to drive. Not after you ran over your cousin skate board, knocked over the flower pot and broke a dog toy.

'Your paying for that!' You said hitting the brakes before you crashed into the garage.

'You've learned the basics now drive around the block' he said ignoring your comment.

'Were going to die! Did you not just witness me break several objects?' You panicked.

'Just do it. You'll be fine. '

'Fine your funeral' you said yanking your arms away from the ac he was fiddling with.

'Remind me why we've been together since high school?' He asked. 'Its rhetorical-'

'Because you said and I quote 'they have great sarcasm and nice on the eyes' that's how were married.' You said holding up you hand with the wedding band.

'Question....just drive' he said. You backed out and started driving. Making it around the block after knocking over a friend mail box you made it home.

His phone rang. Answering it you turned off the car.

'Practice.' He said

'Tell them you cant make it.'

'Why?'

'Do you have the spare key to these?' You raised your arms.

His eyes widen. Then he cursed.

'So since we are loosing keys heres a surprise.' You took the keys out of the ignition and tossed them in the back they disappeared.

'Why would you?!'

'Oh I'm sorry we didnt have a spare key! My fault. So how we getting out? You can crawl over me or vice versa. Then one searches the back.'

'Crawl over me and get out on my side' he said.

You start crawling over him. You were on all fours over his lap trying to open the door. Your shirt went up a little showing off the monarch butterfly on your back.

After you managed to open the door you got out. Kunis followed suit. Opening the passenger door was difficult bit you both managed it.

'Your searching.' You shoved him in the car. He grumbled and started searching.

You watched admiring his figure. Suddenly you were pulled in the car.

'Help me look. It's only fair since you lost the car keys' he said. You grumbled and did as told.

You guys searched.

'You know for a car that gets cleaned daily we cant find keys.' You said sitting on the car floor. Your back was hurting.

Scaramouch just nodded. He studied your figure.

'I'm sorry I made you cancel practice.' You said quietly.

'Can I ask why you refuse to get your license?' He asked pulling you futher into the car.

'I got caught in an accident in high school. You might remember. I was out for a month. Some lady wasnt paying attention and hit me. Screwed up my back. Ever since I've been scared to get one. I cant get behind the wheel without having an anxiety attack. What if I get behind and kill someone by accident? What if there was a family?' You said panicking. 'What'll happen when it's a fender bender?'

Scaramouch rubbed your back to help you calm down. He wasnt the most affectionate person but he was doing his best.

'That why you escape when I say your getting it.' He muttered. He remembered that.

When you showed up once more you were sent to the nurses office constantly to get pain meds. People thought you were getting addicted so teachers started to deny you the meds. They were far from the truth. By denying you the meds you were withering in agony. Scaramouch remembered it so well because he was the one who took to get you checked up at the hospital.

'Yea. It's such a scary thought.' You looked at the sky.

'Well I'm sorry' he said pulling you into him. 'Let's find the keys and get to practice. I'll drive this time.' He kissed your forehead.

You nodded. Resuming the search for the keys.

'Found it!' You yelled out triumph. Scara launched himself at you for the keys. 'Hey! No. You dont get this key. Your the reason for this mess.'

He grumbled and spotted the car keys. He went towards it but you beat him to the punch.

So he lunged forward to grab the key to the cuffs. He succeeded and inserted the key. Unlocking the cuff he rubbed his wrist then grabbed yours and massaged it.

'Come on. Let's go. We can do whatever you want when practice is over.' He said as you got out of the car.

'Promise?' You asked.

'Promise.' He said kissing your forhead.

[the-delta-42]

Wings - A New Day Part 1

Wings

A New Day Part 1

If you were fortunate enough, you were born with wings. If you weren’t, you’d hope a child in your family would born with wings. Lee and his younger brother fell into the former camp, their parents were in the camp with them. Centuries ago, people with wings were once treated as deities, then were hunted, and then treated with the utmost respect.

That wasn’t to say they were above the law. Criminals with wings had them amputated when they reached prison. Which Lee was on his way to.

A fact about wings, despite being feathered appendaged that could be incredibly fragile, they were sharp. If done correctly, a wing would be able to slice through reinforced steel, hence why criminals had them amputated. Not all criminals, just those who had committed serious offences, like rape, murder and so on and so forth.

Lee found himself thinking more on Sam than his wings.

“Alright, I reckon you didn’t do it then.” Said the police officer driving him to the prison.

“Why do you say that?” asked Lee, looking at the man.

“Y'know, I've driven a buncha fellas down to this prison. Lord knows how many. Usually is 'bout now I get the ‘I didn't do it.’” Answered the Police officer, “Had one of your kind try and tear the seats up with his wings while doin’ it.”

“Not from me.” Sighed Lee, looking back out the window.

“'Cause guys in your position already said it enough?” Asked the Police officer, as the radio said something, “I followed your case a little bit, you being a Macon boy and all.”

Lee looked at the Officer in the rear-view mirror.

“You’re from Macon then.” Said Lee, adjusting himself in his seat when he felt his left wing cramp.

“Yep. Came up to Atlanta to be a city cop in the seventies.” Responded the Officer, smiling wistfully, “Always wanted to work a murder case, like that senatorial mess you got yourself mixed up in, with all due respect. A real shame, that is.”

A Police car shot past them, heading towards Atlanta. Lee frowned, wondering what it was heading to.

“Hell, the whole family used to be regulars at your folks' drugstore right in downtown. Still there?” Said the Officer, glancing back at Lee.

“Sure is.” Answered Lee.

“Good.” The radio sparked back into life and said something that Lee didn’t catch.

There was a moments silence between the two, before the officer started speaking again, “I got a nephew up at UGA, you teach there long?”

“Going on my sixth year.” Said Lee, ‘Or I was.’ He thought.

“You meet your wife in Athens?” Asked the Officer, passing a couple of cars.

Lee froze, internally panicking, before he turned and looked out the window.

The officer quietly looked at Lee, “You wanna know how I see it?”

Several more police cars shot past them, along with a SWAT truck, all of them heading towards Atlanta.

Lee looked away from the window and at the rear-view mirror, “Sure.”

The Officer went to speak, before catching sight of Lee, before deciding against it.

“Regardless, could be you just married the wrong woman.” Dismissed the Officer, making Lee open his mouth to speak, before deciding not to.

“You'll have to learn to stop worrying about things you can’t control.” Continued the Officer, as a helicopter flew past them and towards Atlanta. The radio started making noise again, Lee couldn’t understand what they were saying.

Another helicopter flew towards Atlanta, followed by two SWAT trucks and several police cars.

“I'm driving this man once, he was the worst one. He wouldn't stop going on about how he didn't do it. He was an older fella.” Said the Officer, either unaware of, or ignoring, the other police vehicles heading towards Atlanta, “Big, soft eyes behind a pair of smart folk glasses, and he's just wailing back there, says it wasn't him. Crying and snotting all over, right where you're sitting.”

Lee tried not to wince at that piece of information.

The radio made some more noise, before the officer turned it off.

“Then before long he starts kicking the back of the seat, li--like a fussy baby on an airplane. And I tell him he's gotta stop, that's government property, and I'll be forced to zap him otherwise.” Continued the officer, “So he stops, and having exhausted all his options, he starts crying out for his Mama. ‘Mama, it's all a big mistake! It wasn't me!’”

“So, did he do it?” Asked Lee, curious.

“They caught the fucker red-handed! Stabbin' his wife, cutting her up as the boys came through the door! He sits in my car screaming bloody murder that it wasn't him!” Spat the officer, “I think he actually believed it himself. It goes to show, people will up and go mad when they believe their life is over. Oh, I got another good one for ya. This one's a little bit less depressing and a bit more hilarious if I do say so.”

The Officer looked away from the road and towards Lee, just as something stumbled across the road and into the path of the police car.

“WATCH OUT!” Yelled Lee, his wing flaring out and breaking the binds on them.

“This other time-” The Officer was cut off when the car crashed into the thing in front of it, making it veer out of control, through the guard rail, off the road and into the forest.

Lee hit his head on the seat in front of him, half-conscious, he saw figures moving outside of the car, before hearing screams and growls before passing out.

W

Lee woke up some time later. He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but the sky had started to change colour, so he assumed it’d been a few hours at least.

“Ugh... Ow, shit.” Groaned Lee, his head was pounding.

Lee tried to take his handcuffs off, the object unyielding against his hands.

“Thirsty...” Groaned Lee, rubbing his throat, before he shifted and felt a stabbing pain, “Ahh! Fuck, my leg.”

Lee looked down at the large, bloody gash on his thigh. He looked out the back window and spotted the officer lying face down on the ground with blood streaks leading up to him. Lee turned to look at the door window and growled, before positioning himself with his wings facing the window. With one swift movement, Lee’s wings cut through the metal and glass. He grunted as the remains of the door fell on him. After carefully turning around, Lee hauled himself out of the police car. He grunted again as he fell to the ground.

Lee unsteadily got to his feet and hobbled around the car, stopping before spotting the officer. He glanced down and spotted a shotgun and a shell. Lee frowned, before stumbled over to the shell, he picked it up and slid it into his pocket. He briefly considered picking up the shotgun, before deciding against it. He needed to get the handcuffs off, he considered using his wings on them, but dismissed the idea, he didn’t want to run the risk of accidentally cutting his hands off. Lee hobbled over to the Officer.

“Officer?” Rasped Lee, looking down at the older man, “Officer, are you alright?”

The Officer didn’t respond to Lee. Lee felt a pit of dread form in his stomach, he hoped he was wrong but, he thought the Officer was dead.

“How did this happen?” Muttered Lee, frowning at the body, “He wasn’t ejected from the car.”

Lee leant down and took the handcuff keys off the Officer’s belt, he swore when he dropped the keys, leaning back down, he grabbed the keys again and unlocked the handcuffs. The metal restraints fell to the ground, as Lee rubbed his wrists.

The Officer then groaned. Then he growled, before his head snapped up and looked at Lee with cold, dead eyes and lunged at him. Lee acted on instinct, swiping his wing at the Officer, cleanly separating the head from the body. Lee shuddered as he felt the blood soak into the feathers, before limping over to the shotgun. He picked it up and loaded it, sighing through his nose, Lee looked around. He spotted a figure standing on top of a hill.

“Hey!” Yelled Lee, waving at them, “Go get help! There’s been an… incident.”

The figure turned and ran away, Lee caught a glimpse of a small pair of wings before they vanished. Groaning reached Lee’s ears, making him swear and look around.

More of those things were heading towards him, taking a deep breath, Lee limped up the slope as fast as he could and, as soon as he reached it, hopped over a fence and landed on his bad leg in some stranger’s garden.

“Fuck.” Wheezed Lee, checking his leg and making sure he still had the shotgun.

He quickly looked around, before placed the end of the shotguns barrel to the ground and pushed himself to his feet. Looking around, he noticed he was in the backyard of a house in a small neighbourhood. He hoped that no one called the police on him.

“Hello?” Called Lee, deciding to throw caution to the wind, “Anybody?”

He heard some distant gunshots and the monsters on the other side of the fence wandering away.

“I can't go back out there.” Muttered Lee, turning away from the fence and looking around the garden. There was a covered-up swimming pool and a patio that led up to a front gate, a wooden porch that led up to a sliding glass door and a patch of grass that had a big tree with a tree house. Lee contemplated checking the tree house, but dismissed it, if there was someone there, they wouldn’t’ve been able to climb all the way up a tree, get into a tree house and close it all up to appear that no one was there. He looked at the door.

“I wonder if anybody's home.” Wondered Lee, before walking up to the door and knocking on it, “Hello? Anybody home? I need a little help.”

There was no reply, Lee glanced at the tree house, before looking at his leg, “I’m not getting up there with this.”

Lee looked at the door again, before sighing, “Screw it. I’m just going in.” He went to open the door, before he paused, what if someone was hiding and they thought they were being robbed? What if the door was locked and he set off a burglar alarm? He knocked again.

“Hello? There’s something going on.” Called Lee, as he looked in through the window, “Doesn’t seem like anybody’s home.”

Lee banged his fist on the door again, hoping to coax someone out of hiding and open the door for him.

“Maybe it’s unlocked.” Muttered Lee, when no one appeared. He gingerly gave the door a tug, wincing as it opened slightly. Reluctantly opening the door, Lee called out, “Coming in. Don't shoot, okay?”

Lee entered the house and closed the door behind him, he felt a sudden stab on pain from his leg, making his wings flare out, then grabbed his leg.

“Ahh, shit.” Winced Lee, almost falling to the floor, “Hello? I'm not an intruder... or one of them.”

Lee silently chided himself, of course he was an intruder, you just can’t go up to someone’s door and let yourself in.

Lee then noticed that the furniture in the living room was knocked over and there were bloodstains on the floor and wall of the kitchen.

“These people might need more help than I do.” Muttered Lee, looking around the ground floor. He considered looking around, before he spotted a bowl of fruit on the table. Reaching out, he grabbed an apple, “It’s fake. Damn.”

Turning away from the table, Lee limped into the kitchen and slipped on a pool of blood. Grunting, Lee hauled himself back up and hobbled over to the sink. He filled a glass up and took a drink from it. Feeling the dryness disappear from his throat, he sighed, before looking through the draws. He came across a note that had a hotel name and a Savannah area code, before he opened a drawer and found a radio. Lee frowned, before placing the radio in his pocket. He checked the other drawers, but found they were empty. Lee paused, tilting his head slightly, he could hear something. Looking around, Lee couldn’t find the source of the noise, but it sounded like beeping. He slowly made his way out of the kitchen, before he finally spotted a phone and an answering machine.

Lee approached it, turning it on and making the beeping stop.

“Three new messages. Message one. Left at 5:43 PM.” Said the automated voice of the machine.

“Hey, Sandra, this is Diana. We're still in Savannah. Ed had a little ‘incident’ with some crazy guy near the hotel, so we had to get him back to the ER and have it checked out.” Said a woman’s voice, “Anyway, he's not feeling well enough to drive back tonight, so we're staying an extra day. Thanks so much for looking after Clementine, and I promise we'll be back in time before your spring break!”

“Message two. Left at 11:19 PM.” Said the machine.

“Oh, my God, finally! I don't know if you tried to reach us; all the calls are getting dropped.” Said Diana, sounding panicked, “They're not letting us leave and aren't telling us anything about Atlanta. Please, please, just leave the city and take Clementine with you back to Marietta. I've got to get back to the hospital. Please let me know that you're safe.”

“Message three. Left at 6:51 AM.”

“Clementine? Baby, if you can hear this, call the police.” Diana sounded like she was near tears, “That's 9-1-1. We love you...we love you...we love y—"

The machine beeped after the last message. Lee picked up a picture near the phone and looked at it, which showed a young girl and her parents. This must be Clementine, mused Lee, before the walkie-talkie activated.

“Daddy?” Came a little girl’s voice.

“Huh?” The voice jerked Lee from his thoughts, he took out his walkie-talkie from his pocket and walked over to the glass door, flaring his wings as he did.

“Hello?” Asked Lee, looking around the garden.

“You need to be quiet.” Said the girl, making Lee frown.

“Who is this?” Asked Lee, trying to spot her.

“I'm Clementine. This is my house.” Said the girl, sounding indignant.

“Hi, Clementine. I'm Lee.” Said Lee, only noticing that his wings were still flared and folding them.

“You're not my daddy.” Stated Clementine.

“No, I'm not.” Responded Lee, as he walked into the living room, “How old are you?”

“Eight.”

“And you're all alone?” Lee frowned, who’d leave an eight-year-old girl alone?

“Yes. I don't know where anybody is.” Answered Clementine, “How old are you?”

“I'm, uhh...37.” Answered Lee, starting to question how he entered a game of 20 questions with a child.

“Okay.” Said Clementine, as Lee entered the kitchen, avoiding the puddle of blood, and stopping and looking out of the window.

“Are you safe?” Asked Lee, trying to find where Clementine was hiding.

“I'm outside in my treehouse.” Answered Clementine, “They can't get in.”

“That's smart.” Said Lee, looking at the treehouse, as Clementine appeared in the doorway of the structure.

“See?” Asked Clementine, looking at the window, “Can you see me? I can see you through the window.”

Clementine waved at Lee prompting him to wave back. Clementine suddenly let out a scream and disappeared back inside the treehouse, closing the door behind her. Lee turned around and saw one of the monsters behind him behind him. It growled and tried to attack him, making him push it to the ground. As he tried to escape, he slipped on the puddle of blood, making him fall and hit his head on the counter and landing awkwardly on his wings. His vision was blurry, but he could vaguely make out the creature crawling toward him, making him kick it away.

Lee screamed as he felt pain course through his leg, reminding him that he was still hurt. Lee got back on his feet and tried to run, only for the creature to grab his leg and trip him. He punched it away as it tried attack again. Clementine ran up to the glass door and opened it, holding a hammer. The creature attacked again, making Lee push it away, continually kicking it in the head and crawling backwards.

“Here...” Said Clementine, holding the hammer out to Lee. Once Lee reached Clementine, he took the hammer from her shaking hands and looked at the creature. He felt his heart plummet, realising that this creature, that was trying to kill him, was what remained of the babysitter.

Lee yelled as he violently bashed the creature on the head with the hammer, deforming her face in the process.

“Man...” Gasped Lee, taking a step back and placing his hands on his knees, before remembering about Clementine, “Hi there.”

Clementine took a step back as the creature's blood oozed across the floor, her small wings quivering slightly as she stared up at Lee.

“Did you kill it?” Asked Clementine, as Lee’s wings twitched.

Lee looked down at the deformed corpse, before regretfully saying, “Yes.”

“It's okay.” Said Clementine, making Lee look at her, “I think she was a monster.”

“I think so too.” Mused Lee, before kneeling in front of Clementine and looking her in the eye, “You've been all by yourself through this?”

“Yeah. I want my parents to come home now.” Clementine nodded, making Lee frown.

“I think that might be a little while, you know?” Said Lee, as gently as he could.

“Oh.” Said Clementine, looking down sadly, making Lee move closer.

“Look, I don't know what happened.” Said Lee, gently making Clementine look up at him, “But I'll look after you until then.”

Clementine gave a small smile and nodded, her wings giving a little flutter. Clementine looked around, before looking up at Lee and asked, “What should we do now?”

“We need to find help before it gets dark.” Answered Lee, standing back up and looking down at Clementine.

“Yeah, it's not safe at night.” Agreed Clementine, reaching out and grabbing Lee’s hand.

“Let's go. Stay close to me.” Instructed Lee, folding his wings against his back.

The two then left the house, Clementine closing the door behind them and then going ahead of Lee, leading him to the front gate. Lee approached the gate and noticed two men in the street trying to push a car out of the road.

“Aw, man... I ain't never getting home to Mama at this rate.” Bemoaned one of the men, looking at the other man.

“This sucks.” Agreed the second man, making Lee frown.

“It's hot dish night.” Continued the first man.

Lee reached to open the gate, before pausing and turning to kneel in front of Clementine, who looked conflicted about something.

“What's the matter?” Asked Lee, gently placing a hand on Clementine’s shoulder.

“Should I stay?” Asked Clementine, quietly.

“What?” Frowned Lee, confused.

“I don't want to sleep in the treehouse tonight,” Continued Clementine, “but I don't know if I should leave. What if my parents come home?”

Lee sighed, “I won't leave you alone.”

Clementine smiled at Lee, getting a smile from him in return.

“Let's go somewhere safe that's close, okay?” Suggested Clementine, trying to take the lead.

“That's a good idea.” Lee smiled, before getting up. Clementine opened the gate. They approached the two men, the two still somehow unaware of their presence, “Hey, man!”

The men turn around, startled.

“Holy shit!” Swore the second man.

“Don’t eat us!” Pleaded the first

“We're not gonna hurt you.” Said Lee, frowning in confusion at the two men, “Why would we eat you?”

“Phew, thought for a second you and the little one were both gonna give us the chomp.” Said the second man, only furthering Lee’s confusion.

“What are you doing?” Asked Lee, his wings flicking slightly.

“Trying to get home, this neighbourhood's a disaster.” Said the second man, “Are you trying to get outta here? Because you should be. Those things are all over the damn place. I haven't seen anything as gnarly as this neighbourhood since downtown Atlanta, fifteen miles back.” Before adding, “I'm Shawn, by the way, Shawn Greene.”

“Lee.” Responded Lee, before gesturing to his side, “This is Clementine.”

Chet knelt down and waved at Clementine, “I'm Chet.”

Clementine smiled at him, making Chet get up.

“We shouldn't be out in the open like this.” Said Shane, looking between Lee and Clementine, “How about you help us clear the way, should be easy with those wings of yours, and we'll take you and your daughter out of here, and down to my family's farm. It should be safer there.”

“I'm not her dad. I'm...” Started Lee, before pausing, unsure what to say, “...just some guy.”

“Some guy?” Shawn frowned, looking between Lee and Clementine.

‘Great,’ Thought Lee, ‘now he either thinks I’m pervert or I kidnapped her.’

“Yeah.” Said Lee, awkwardly.

“She's alone?” Asked Shawn, frowning when he got a nod from Lee, “Let's get going. Staying put for too long is a mistake. Even for a guy with wings.”

Lee nodded and turned to Clementine, “What do you want to do?”

“I...” Clementine trailed off, looking at her house, then back at Lee. The growls of the creatures reaching their ears.

“Them monsters comin'!” Gasped Chet, crouched down, “We gotta go!”

Shawn started pushing on the car, trying to move it out of the road.

“Lee, quick! Let's go!” Yelled Shawn, looking at Lee, making the winged man rush over to him. Lee and Shawn pushed on the car, Clementine joined in helping them push after a few seconds. Chet crouched behind the truck, hiding from the approaching creatures. Once the car was out of the way, Shawn got into the driver's seat, and looked at the others.

“Get in!” Commanded Lee, hauling Chet to his feet.

Chet jumped in the truck bed, while Lee got in the front passenger seat, after making sure Clementine was sitting in the middle looking out the back window. Shawn drove the truck away from the approaching herd.

“For just ‘some guy,’” Said Shawn, glancing at Lee, “it seems like you've saved a bunch of lives today.”

Lee sighed and closed his eyes, the sound of the creatures fading away and being replaced by the sound of the truck running, he carefully adjusted his wings against the seat, with Clementine mimicking him.

[not-so-avid-fanfic-writer]

A/n: switched pronouns from 'i' to 'you' to make stuff easier

Also, I've sort of switched Kirishima's and Uraraka's seats with whoever was sitting next to Bakugo and Midoriya

Extra: (F/f) = favourite filling

Chapter 3

After eating your (F/f) sandwich that your mum had packed to help clear the nerves of your first day, it was finally time for the few hours you actually were looking forward to. Hero Training.

You were practically balanced on the edge of your seat and tapping your fingers against each other as the class was waiting for the designated teacher to arrive.

You looked over at the red-head, as you learned was Kirishima and previously helped you with an impending meltdown during what you dubbed 'The Uraraka Crisis', that was trying to get your attention. When he finally did, he gave you a questioning thumbs up (you interpreted that as a 'you exited') and you nodded. You liked Kirishima already and felt like you could be friends.

You also noticed Bakugo looking at you so you happily waved as he looked away with a surprisingly gentle smile

Meanwhile, on the other side of the classroom:

"Woah, Bakubro, what's got you so calm?" The charming shark-man, questioned the usually loud blond beside him. Bakugo blushes and looks away, muttering something along the lines of 'it's nice to have an old friend back'.

~~~~~

After Aizawa explained that you would be doing 1 on 1 battle training, the class grabbed their hero outfits and headed to the changing rooms.

Once you got to the girl's changing room, you made sure to stay as far away from Uraraka as possible, you didn't want to be in a similar situation to earlier. You started bouncing on the balls of your feet with excitement as you unpacked your hero costume from it's case. You unfolded your wings to be able to change out of your clothes, and as you reached for the zips underneath the slits to get your jacket off, you heard a bunch of 'awe's and 'oohh's from behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see the others staring at your wings like they wanted to touch them.

You cautiously continued to get changed into your costume, which consisted of a leotard of sorts with mesh draped over some cutouts in the back, with the fear of getting your wings touched.

---

A/N: At this point I'm ignoring a very specific part of the cannon

Also!

An updated ref sheet bc I'm too lazy to put it where it belongs:

Back to the story

---

Just as you finished zipping up the back of your costume and started smoothing it out, one of the other girls that you could only describe as a pink puffball walked over to speak to you.

"Hi, I'm Mina, and I just love your wings."

You were a bit shocked that she introduced herself with a statement that bold, but you ran with it.

"Thanks? I'm (Y/n)." You were both in your hero costumes and you assumed she wanted to carry on a conversation, so you waited by the door for her.

As Mina caught up with you, she asked you what you're quirk was.

"I don't really know how to explain it, it's more of a ' you'll have to see it in action ' sort of thing." You quietly explain. She made a sound of understanding and explained to you in detail how her's works as you reached the class's rendezvous.

~~~~~

After everyone else arrived, the class was sorted into random pairs with one student battling a teacher.

You were with Midoriya, and one of the last battles to take place.

You went and sat down in the corner whilst you waited for your battle.

---

Main masterlist | BNHA masterlist | Series masterlist | Chapter 4

---

It's been a while, hasn't it.

I'm sorry for taking so long to update the story, I've somehow been extremely busy with holidays/residential, let alone receiving exam results last Thursday and starting college in the next few weeks.

Long story short, I failed English with a 3.

Also, feel free to leave questions somewhere so you can get to know me a bit better. My asks will be open for it.

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: You Always Meet Twice

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37455736/chapters/100712811

Chapter 18

Morrie felt glad that the Garden was calm today. He sensed nothing but a soft breeze that shook the tender grass and made the leaves rustle quietly. A sweet scent of flowers drifted by from time to time, followed by salty air from the coast. It told Morrie that they weren't far from the sea anymore. The salty scent and the rushing of the waves intensified for his sharpened senses. Judging by Nick's behaviour, the spoiled Wellie didn't notice anything.

“Could you tone down a bit?” Morrie lost his nerve after a while. “You don't have to announce your presence to the entire district!” “Oh, I'm sorry”, Nick answered, but this time he sounded sarcastic. And out of breath. “I'm really trying to act like I'm walking on a fluffy carpet, but believe it or not, the bloody rocks won't let me!” His shoes crunched loudly on the stony ground and the sound rang in Morrie's sensible ears. Nick also had to wave his hands about to push the high grass and bushes aside. No decent Wastrel would make such a ruckus.

“Deal with it! No one's gonna roll out a red carped for you here! You gotta learn to be quiet and unnoticed!” “Well, what should I say? I'm just a very remarkable person.” A yellow flower slapped into Nick's face. “Bloody hell!” Morrie realized that the Wellie needed to get out of his anger and planted himself in front of him. “Wait. Stop.” Nick ducked immediately. “Why? Wh-” “Just catch a breath”, the other man said calmly. Relieved, Nick let out a loud moan and fell into the grass right where he stood.

“Careful!”, Morrie shouted, but the Wellie ignored him. He now lay flat on his back, with an arm behind his head and panting dramatically. He really tried Morrie's patience. “You have to watch out where you sit down, goddammit! You could get stung by a bee, or better, bitten by a snake!” “It didn't happen, okay?” “But it could have! And what would you do then? You can't just pop a Joy and forget about it!” Morrie didn't understand how he could be so careless in completely unfamiliar surroundings. Nick indeed wouldn't survive without help. He stepped closer to examine where Nick was lying. Not that he would be sorry if the Wellie rested on an anthill.

The other man's hand suddenly shot up. “Wait! Don't come closer!” He made Morrie stop in his tracks, alarmed. “Could you backtrack a bit and go to the right? Yeah, like that.” Morrie carefully set his feet from one spot to the other, searching the area while Nick's hand conducted him. “What's wrong?” “Oh, that's just perfect. Stay like this.” Nick gave him a thumbs up. Morrie was about to hiss at him what the hell was happening when he noticed that his body now threw a shadow directly on the rockstar. Morrie immediately moved away. “I'm not your fucking umbrella!” Nick's voice became pleading again: “Oh, come on, just look at me! The sun is burning me off! How am I supposed to catch a breath like this? You are tan, you can bear the sun a lot better than me.” “You'll be fine! My skin wasn't prepared for this either! I don't think anyone is when they get here! Don't act like you're so special!”

Nick curled to the side. “Please, I can't look like a crisp when I get to the bridge! They won't let me back in!” Morrie let out an irritated breath. “You know there's a tree right over there?” It was like a hundred feet away and cast a big enough shadow for both of them. “I'm exhausted, okay? I need to catch my breath, as you said.” Morrie snorted but he went back to his position. It was unlikely that the sun would burn him at this time of day. It wasn't very high anymore, telling Morrie that summer was over. Nick gave some sort of happy moans and stirred. “Oh, that's much better. Thank you, my saviour.” He looked at his hands as if he could already see some burned skin. Morrie didn't see anything. He granted Nick some time to relax. When his panting became a slow and steady breath, he asked: “Calmer now?” Nick answered with a smile: “Yeah.” “Alright, let's get going then,” Morrie said and moved on. The other man quickly sat up. “Wha- Already?”, he shouted after him. “But I'm not done!” “You want to get to the bridge or not?” The Wellie let out an unintelligible noise of protest but stood up to stumble after Morrie. The other man waited for Nick to reach him, then he stopped him again, using his arm as a border. Nick bounced off.

“What?” Morrie gave him a stern look. “You know why I wanted you to calm down?” “Because I was about to keel over and die.” The skilled Wastrel had to gulp down a chuckle. “Because I need you to focus on your surroundings. I know it's annoying, everything gets in your way and the sun is burning and you're tired, but you can't let that take all your attention. And don't get angry. You need to stay calm and look around.” To his surprise, Nick listened to his every word and even pondered now. “Do we have to trudge through all the high grass? It looks much nicer over there.” He pointed at a narrow path of smaller plants that would be easier to follow. “Yes, we have to. It's the only way to hide ourselves and we can't be seen by anyone because of your stupid glad rags.” Nick winced. A bit meek, he said: “There's no one here.” “You don't know that for sure. We could run into them any moment. Sure we could chase one Wastrel off, but what if it's a group? We'd be screwed! It's hard enough to make you invisible with all the noise and with your shoes on and...” Morrie sighed in frustration. Nick pondered again. “Would it be better if I took them off?” Morrie shook his head. “No...That would be worse. Imagine something pinched your delicate skin. And besides, didn't you plan to keep them?” “I'd carry them...” “No, you need to keep your hands free.” Nick looked at his shoes, seemingly sorry that he couldn't do anything about them. “Come on, let's go”, Morrie said with a wave of his hand. He couldn't bear standing close to Nick for much longer. “Just try to be a little quieter.” Nick was indeed a lot quieter than before.

A few minutes later, they reached the coast. “We made it!”, Nick yelled against the rushing of the sea. The cold breeze made Morrie's skin crawl. Nick looked from left to right. Other small islands surrounded them in the distance, but there was no visible connection to them. “Where's the bridge?”, he asked with furrowed brows. “We're not there yet.” “But that's Hamlyn!” Nick pointed towards an island. “It's Barrow Holm”, Morrie corrected him. “Hamlyin is over there.” He pointed in the direction of the shoreline. “East side, if you recognize. We'll follow the coast to there, it's the safest route.” Nick looked back at the northern horizon as if it could help him. “What's Barrow Holm?” “Another sorry part of the Garden District. Come on.” Nick went along, but he couldn't stop looking at the islands. Morrie understood. He once had been foolish enough to believe that he could see the mainland from here. But all he had found had been just more of the Garden.

For a long time nothing happened, apart from the two crossing a little forest, leading to a meadow and another forest. In the next clearing, Nick asked: “Hey, what's that holm now? Is that Hamlyn?” Morrie didn't look. “It's Lud's Holm”, he said with disgust. “Another part of the Garden.” “Lud's Holm? Are you sure?” Nick noticed that the other man hadn't stopped, so he hurried after him. “But it's on Beautification!” “That only means it's in quarantine.” “So it's gonna be rebuilt, right? So it's not Garden anymore. What if-” “No, you fool, it's in quarantine because of the plague!” “...the plague? But...but that's not real. Uncle Jack said...” Morrie gave a loud moan. “Listen, Uncle Jack is nothing but lies! There is no Beautification! Districts get closed up because people get infected! I've seen them myself when I was in Lud's Holm! Creeped me the fuck out!” “W...what about them?” “Ah...let's say the plague doesn't kill them, it messes them up in the head. They start talking backwards and they become very aggressive too.” Nick shuddered. “A...and they're here? In the Garden?” “They're still far away. You'll be fine as long as you don't start eating those red and blue mushrooms. And I haven't seen one of these in these parts yet.” “Uh...okay...” Morrie was sure that Nick didn't understand half of it. But the sooner he saw the dangers in this district, the better he would keep up.

The rockstar fell silent after that. Another while later, Morrie stopped again. “Wait.” “A break? Oh, finally, my feet are killing me...” Nick sighed in relief. “Sshh, listen!”, Morrie hissed. “This is the part where the holm is so narrow we're getting closer to the road. That means they can see us.” Nick squinted. “I don't see anything.” “Not yet. But you see the bush up there? That's the first hiding spot before the road. There we have to watch out for any...pedestrians. Got it?” “Okay.”

They dashed through the grass and stopped behind the bush, where Nick gasped and eyed the horizon. “I still can't see a road.” “You could see the Wastrels though. And they could see you.” Morrie eyed both possible directions. “Alright, let's go. Up to that tree.” They went again and before Nick reached the tree, Morrie pulled him closer and pointed at the road. Here they were.

Two women dressed in shredded and dirty dresses wandered along and barely took notice of their environment. Both had dirty hair as well. One of them had made an effort to put her hair up with branches, so it seemed. Leaves were sticking out and multiple strands hung loose. The other woman had left her short hair open. It stood out in all directions and looked grey from the dust that covered it. They were quietly talking to each other as they stooped by. A man walked into the scene from the other direction. He didn't look any better. The Wastrels didn't acknowledge each other. They didn't exchange greeting or even granted each other a look.

Morrie remembered how confused he had been about their behaviour. Now he wouldn't greet them either. What to say, anyway? Lovely day for it? He had learned to never say that again. He impatiently waited for them to leave. When they were finally out of sight and no one else came, he gestured Nick to move along.

The next part was the trickiest. All they had to hide were the yellow flowers right next to the road. Just a wooden fence helped blocking the view if they messed up. Morrie was surprised by how quiet the spoiled brat suddenly became, now that he knew the stakes. He also became very slow, but Morrie was fine with that. He rather moved slowly and cautiously instead of rushing through and getting thrashed as a reward.

Nick had only Morrie to count on. His sight was blocked by the flowers that still slapped him in the face and his eyes burned from the pollen. He feared he'd sneeze, but he couldn't cover his nose, because he needed his hands to defend himself against the stems. All he knew was to stop when Morrie did and move when Morrie did. The fence was close to him to his right.

They crouched like this for what felt like an eternity to Nick. His knees and hands hurt badly and he feared that his suit would tear up just like Morrie's.

Then suddenly, the other man darted onto him and pushed him down. Nick gasped, then the other man's widened eyes made him gulp down any complaints. Footsteps approached, and then a large group of people walked by. They didn't look like the other Wastrels. Their clothes looked too fancy, all black cloth and leather. They wore helmets, too. Some of them toyed with cricket bats in their hands. Was there...blood on them? No wonder that Morrie was intimidated.

What Nick also sensed was the other man's beating heart close to his own, his warmth and the strong arms that held him down. He could see the muscles under the shredded cloth and he could smell his scent. A blend of sweat, soil, pollen and something sourly sweet like currant. It wasn't bad at all. He hadn't smelled anything like that on a Wellie. What did people in the village even smell like? He couldn't remember. Probably Joy. He wondered what he himself smelled like, now that he didn't take Joy anymore, and he suddenly felt ashamed. Now he wished he could take a bath. A moment later, the other man crawled off of him.

They continued their journey until the road bend to the right. They ran straightforward into the far away bushes. From there, they could walk freely again. “Oh, god”, Nick gasped. “My legs...my hands...How far is it now? I can't...” Morrie's voice was softer now. “We're almost there. Just breathe.” Nick couldn't see a bridge anywhere. “If you say so.”

Morrie's heart became lighter the closer they came to their destination. This ridiculous adventure would be over soon. Without his burden, he could even take the path again or stay overnight in one of the ruins he knew in Eel Pie Village and sleep off the stress. Nick now walked slower and less secure. “Did I hurt you back there?”, Morrie asked. “When I...saved you from the Headboys.” “Oh, that's what they were”, Nick caught up. “Er, my back hurts, but...it could be worse.” “Indeed.” “Could you...dust me down though? I don't wanna be too dirty when I talk to the Bobbies.” Nick promptly turned around. The other man held up his hand and almost touched him. Then he pulled it back as if he had burned himself. “You're fine.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah. A few grass stains perhaps.” “Hmm...” Nick wasn't convinced but Morrie refused to pat his back. That was the last thing he wanted to do now. Nick tried to dust himself off, what made Morrie roll his eyes at him unseen.

The rockstar managed to stay quiet then until Morrie had to lead him away from the coastline and deeper into the land. “We have to get closer to the houses now”, he explained. “But no one ever goes to the bridge, so we should be fine.” “...why does nobody go there?” “Because it's usually closed. As I said.” “But there are Bobbies, right?” “Yeah. As I said.” He didn't say that it was still a risk to use the road to the bridge in glad rags. If this went wrong, Morrie even considered leaving Nick to his fate. This had been his plan after all, and his lesson to learn. Morrie could easily outrun him and leave him to the other Wastrels. He assumed that this probably happened to many of the newbies without it being their fault anyway. Also, the village of Eel Pie Holm was close, so Nick could find a home there. No damage done.

Morrie stopped again to check the surroundings. He could see the ruins of Eel Pie Village far away. Wastrels wandered around, but no one made the useless way to Salamanca Bridge. Perfect.

“Alright, there goes nothing”, Morrie announced and turned to the left. An excited Nick followed him. “Is this it?”, Nick shouted full of excitement. “Did we make it?” Morrie pointed forward. “See that massive heart of stone there? This is Salamanca Bridge.” “Oh, thank god!” Nick fastened his steps, eyes fixed at what he thought would be his way out. Morrie slowed down his pace and fell back, watching the other man go. He wondered if Nick would notice if he turned back now. Did it matter? This was his chance to leave. But unfortunately, Nick turned around and searched for him. He eyed Morrie with a puzzled look that made him feel the need to explain himself.

“Well, I guess you'll be good now”, he produced. “Just go...go home.” “But Morrie, don't be silly.” For some reason, Morrie felt goosebumps on his skin from hearing his name. “We'll go together. I promised I'll get you out.” “No, this isn't gonna work, trust me”, Morrie fought the glimpse of hope that came up. He wouldn't be fooled again. Nick wouldn't get through that bridge and then Morrie would be stuck with him if he didn't leave now. “Why? Don't you want to get out? I thought you're starving.” “This is not the point. I just...” Morrie helplessly waved his hands. “Why would they let me in? I'm a nobody. I already tried to get through and that arsehole just laughed at me.” Nick's face became stern. Morrie was surprised he was even capable of that expression. “Now you'll laugh at him. You're a Make Believe, remember?” “I...” Morrie wasn't sure he even wanted to be called that again. But this one time... “Just carry yourself as gracefully as you do and you'll be okay. You don't slouch like the others.” “I...” “Come on!” Morrie's weak body gave in. Just the thought of regular meals again...and a hot bath....Until his neighbours figured he was a Downer and chased him out again. Or he could be smarter this time... “Fine.”

He followed Nick, but his back didn't want to straighten itself again. He shivered and an ominous weight pulled at him. Nick however was full of energy again and happily skipped forward. He strutted up the stairs to the window where a Bobby was sitting at a desk and killing time. “Lovely day for it!”, Nick greeted him enthusiastically, not without the typical finger gun. He sounded like he had been craving to say that all day. The Bobby played along without hesitation. They would keep their fake happiness even towards Wastrels, acting as if the Garden was just another part of Hamlyn Village and all problems would solve themselves eventually. “Lovely day for it. Unfortunately, the bridge is not open at this time. It was open just a minute ago, but the door is broken again. Best come back when it's open again.” “As I said”, Morrie mumbled behind Nick.

Nick ignored the false excuse entirely. “Oh, Constable! You have no idea how glad I am to see a decent fellow again! This Garden District is horrible! No one's taking Joy, can you believe it? No wonder they're all sad. If you could open that door for me so I could get in and take my Joy, that would be smashing.” The Bobby was taken aback by such Wellisian behaviour. “And who, may I ask, are you?” “Ah, don't you recognize me?” Nick tugged at his clothes and straightened himself. “You disappoint me! You Constables claimed to be my biggest fans!” The tall man eyed him up and down. Morrie could see the gears in his head spin. “You're telling me you're Nick Lightbearer.” “I am Nick Lightbearer! I am the one and only Golden God of Rock'n'Roll! And I'm supposed to give a show tonight at the Orpheum! Do you want to be the reason for the delay? Just imagine, hundreds of angry fans at your doorstep. That wouldn't be a jolly time, wouldn't it?” Morrie had to admit that all the posing had an effect on the Bobby. Nick probably didn't look as pathetic to his fans as he did to him.

“Oh, I wouldn't wanna be a wet blanket, Sir, but I don't know nothing about a show tonight. Wouldn't it be in the papers?” “It's a surprise, man!”, Nick made up and inwardly begged for this to work. If only he knew his current tour dates! He hadn't played any of his shows in months. “To tell everyone I'm back! It'll be announced shortly before the show.” “So, if I, say, write a message to your manager, he'd know about it, right?” “Uh...”, Nick hung his head. “I...uh...I don't have a manager anymore...We had some...disagreements...” “U-huh.” “But why bother? Just get constable Hunt! He must be missing me already! He'll confirm I'm real! Come on, man! He's only one message away!” “Uh...” The Bobby looked left and right as if the answer was there. “That doesn't explain why Nick Lightbearer went off his Joy and into the Garden District.” “I didn't!” Nick fiercely slapped his hands against the window, so that even the Bobby winced. Then he seemed to have startled himself and he backtracked. “I didn't mean to...I don't know how it happened! I swear I was high on enough stuff and...and I guess I had kind of a mental breakdown right outside my house and then people started attacking me...I don't know how I ended up here!” Nick's despair broke free and he sent a begging look at the Constable. “This wasn't supposed to happen! I don't belong here! I don't know why no one of you saved me! Just ask them...Whistler, Stubbs, Bacon...they used to patrol in Maidenholm and they always brought me back home I...went astray. You Bobbies have all been so kind to me. Aren't you...” He squinted. “Constable Wright?” His face lit up. “Yeah, you're Constable Wright! You patrolled along the the Odds & Ends shop! What brought you here?” The man was now completely baffled. Morrie too.

“Mr. Lightbearer?” “Yeah, it's me! You carried me home that night, remember? And all I could give you in return was that strange sort of moonshine...” He lowered his voice. “That didn't give you trouble I hope?” “Huh, no.” The Bobby began to smile for real. “Had a headache for two days and made me see all purple but it was worth it! No, I'm here because I knocked a Downer too hard in the head. Can you believe that? Uncle Jack says a Downer at the bottom of the sea isn't enough Downers, but here I am! At the arse end of the world and letting Wastrels talk down at me.” “That's awful, man! I'll be sure to put in a good word for you when I'm back in the village.” That sent a bolt of energy through the man's body. “Of course Mr. Lightbearer! Sure, Mr. Lightbearer! I'd open the door for you, but who's your guest?” That was the moment when Morrie noticed he was also there. Nick gave him the warmest smile. “This is Morrie Memento, my keyboarder. We got reunited, so to speak, and I have to take him back with me. He's a genius!” “Uh...” The Bobby eyed Morrie less enthusiastically. “Can he take Joy?” “He sure can! Just like me! He just got high and mistook his Joy for some candy drops, ha!” He laughed. Morrie produced a sound that was close to a laughter. “Typical me”, he rasped. “You gotta hear him, though. I'll make sure you get the front row in my next concert.” “Er...that's fine with me I guess. But be careful next time. I don't know who's gonna replace me, and he might not let you in and that'd be a damn shame, wouldn't it? And, er...Mr. Lightbearer?” “Yeah?” The Bobby lowered his voice. “You might settle those...disagreements with your manager. An unannounced surprise show – that sounds like - well, a peculiar plan at least.” Nick gave him a look. “Ah, I'm not the one to judge, of course. Have a nice day.”

Just like that, the door opened. Morrie went inside with Nick, but he wasn't sure if he was still awake. This couldn't be happening.

[leopardtie]

"do not waste my time."

like its some sort of challenge. gojo huffs, insulted. he leans back further in his chair, listens to the plastic backing creak under his weight. he cant tell if the desk is too short, or if hes too tall, but he swears the floor is inches from his fingers.

it saps the nervous warmth of his hands away, tile cool and untouched by the afternoon sun. he rubs his nails with his thumbs and tries to ignore the clammy nerves.

"or what," he sighs, "you'll ground me?"

the teacher blinks, slow; gojo cant see it but he can sense it, the tired gaze of an adult too bothered to be unbothered by his exasperated attitude.

"youre already in detention, gojo-kun. all youre managing to achieve is more time."

which makes the boy's face screw up, tongue souring. who cares about time?

its a poorly immature question because, in the same thought, he knows nanami does. overtime, on-time, timed quizzes, time for lunch, time to get your head in the game, satoru, time to figure it out... he groans, scrubs an angry hand down his face and kicks his feet off the desk, lets them land on the tiled floor with a quick, ringing smack. he shoots the teacher a chilled glare.

"you put me in time-out to begin with. we could both go home right now if you werent so-"

"ten minutes."

"-determined to make me-"

"ten more minutes."

"-hate you."

and the creeping summer curls through the cracked windows, billows into curtains and makes them sweep, swell, plume between gojo's stare and nanami's. it smells sweet, and warm, and gojo briefly thinks that it must be such a treat to grow fruit on a day like this.

orchards cooking in sun-ripened smells of apples and pears and stone-fruits eager to burst in their own dying desperation to reproduce; sugar cooking within painted skins; pinks and reds and greens and yellows; thick, cloy wafts of pollen that fatten the bees humming through buzzing air.

he can almost see it. can almost focus on something far away and not nearby and not his; an existing experience that infinity invites him to know and learn but never live.

the wind blows back through, spring still cool and snip enough to chase summer away, and the curtains suck against the windows with a loud whistle. gojo turns his face away abruptly, all at once sick to his stomach, and scratches his fingernail over a groove in his desk.

its a bit blue, now; the room. a cloud has passed near the sun and the light filters with it.

"do you hate me?" nanami asks quietly. hes leaned against the front of his desk, ankles crossed, hands wide and splayed and weighed down by the scorching gold of a wedding band. how hot it must be. how white it must burn.

gojo cant see it, nor him, but he can sense; every line of energy and every waver of curse. how easily he could curse. he flicks his glasses off suddenly, crushes the heels of his palms into his eyes.

"no," he murmurs, tired and nauseous and too bad a person to be sitting here. "no, i dont hate you."

"you hate today, it seems."

and gojo snorts, ugly. "parts of it. other parts arent... quite so bad."

nanami nods, unseen, and looks out the window. gojo cant sense what hes looking at, so he simply imagines.

prickling spring leaves. warm concrete. flowers shivering in the wind and passing students, some peeking in to see if gojo is still there.

"tell me about the parts that arent quite so bad, then. it'll pass the time faster."

save.

[rubysunnday]

rooftops

A/N: The finale to my part in Olive's (@lxncelot) , writing challenge! This is fic 3 out of 3 (congrats if you made it this far, well done!) Again, prompts are all from Olive's dialogue and song prompt list) : 3) “I’ll miss this — us.” | 17) “Are we friends?”`| 26) “I could be in love with someone like you.” | rooftop kiss — james horner

Fic 1 | Fic 2 | Fic 3

The wind was howling outside the whaling hut. It was so harsh the windows and doors were rattling in their frames, fighting to stay put. But the two occupants inside didn't notice. They were both too cold and uncomfortable and pointedly ignoring the other to do much more than sit by the fire, bundled in furs, wearing someone else's clothes underneath.

Of course, they were both as far apart from each other as physically possible whilst also staying within the warmth of the fire. Matthias was silent. Y/N was silent. Neither said a word.

Matthias leant forward and poked the fire with the poker, nudging the logs around. They sparked and crackled as fresh wood was added, feeding the fire. Matthias glanced over at Y/N, barely visible under the furs. "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"That does not matter," Matthias said, leaning back. "Because you're so cold it means you don't feel hunger. Your body needs to eat."

"I'm fine. I just want to sleep," Y/N muttered, tightening the furs around her, trying to block him out.

Matthias looked back at the pot that was simmering over the fire. "If you sleep, you'll likely not wake up again."

"Oh, good, that saves you from having to kill me," Y/N said, refusing to look at him.

"If I was going to kill you, I would have done it by now," Matthias replied, rolling his eyes as he spooned the soup into two bowls. "Now, eat," he said, holding the bowl out to her.

Y/N reluctantly reached out a hand from underneath the furs and took the bowl, putting it on the floor in front of her. "And if I don't want to eat?"

"Then you'll succumb to hypothermia and pass out," Matthias said, shrugging. "All Drüskelle learn that mistake in their first few months. Most recover. Some don't. Brum always says that a Drüskelle-"

"If I eat the damn soup, will you shut up?" Y/N snapped, turning to glare at him.

Matthias nodded. He watched Y/N intently as she picked up the bowl and took a small sip of the soup, letting it digest before taking another sip.

"It's good soup," she reluctantly admitted, dipping her spoon back in. "If you've poisoned it, I won't mind dying this way."

"For Saint's sake," Matthias muttered, swearing in Fjerdan under his breath. "I haven't poisoned it! I am eating it too."

Y/N raised her eyebrows but returned to her soup.

Silence fell in the whaling hut again.

"You can have the bed."

Y/N looked over at Matthias as she finished her soup. "Don't be ridiculous, there's room for two of us." Matthias was silent so Y/N looked at him again. "Oh, don't tell me little Matthias is scared of sleeping next to a woman."

"I am not..." He paused, forcing himself to calm down. "I am not scared."

"Good, then we will before sleep in the bed," Y/N said, standing up, setting her half-eaten soup aside.

Matthias reluctantly stood up too. He watched as Y/N clambered onto the bed, wrapping herself up in the furs and getting comfortable.

"Oh for Saint's sake, stop being such a prune and come here," she snapped. "You're the one going on about hypothermia and yet you're over there, freezing."

"I'm fine."

"Oh, look how the tables have turned," she muttered.

Matthias climbed into the other side of the bed and lay down on the very edge - as far away as possible from Y/N.

"Drüskelle," she said, turning her head to look at him. "Do you want to freeze to death? No? Then move closer."

He shuffled closer.

"Closer."

Mattthias shuffled even closer. Y/N could feel his cold skin against her back and shivered slightly.

"There, now neither of us will die in the night and we can go back to hating each other in the morning, happy?"

Matthias grunted, burying himself under the furs. Y/N turned onto her side and pulled the furs up over her shoulder, tucking them around her. She closed her eyes and wriggled down a bit, getting comfortable.

The wind kept on howling.

Matthias awoke suddenly as something jolted him. He sat up, expecting to see Y/N standing over him with a knife, about to cut out his heart. But the room was empty. It took him a moment to realise that someone was crying and that the someone was lying next to him.

He looked down at her and could see the tears falling down her face, the terror clearly written on her face as she relived something. Matthias wasn't sure why, but he felt his heart ache for the girl. He wasn't immune to nightmares - no one was.

Part of him wanted to leave her. A Grisha deserved to live through the terrors they had seen as punishment. But he couldn't believe that this girl - barely younger than him - could be so heartless and brutal. at such a young age, what could she have possibly experienced and seen that would have traumatised her in such a way.

Matthias reached out a hand and put it on her shoulder, shaking her gently. "Roëd," he said, for he didn't know her true name. Neither one had decided to share that information.

Y/N let out a panicked yelled and sat up, almost falling out of the bed. She pushed Matthias' hand away, flinging back all of the furs until she was just in the shirt and pants she'd found in the corner of the hut. Y/N pushed herself up from the bed and bolted from the room and out into the cold, cold night.

Matthias quickly got up and followed after her, not wanting her to get lost in the Fjerdan landscape or end up being attacked because, despite the death threats and the mutual hated, he did care for her. She'd saved him from the shipwreck and, somehow, they were still going.

Y/N fell to her knees in the snow - in the dark - and plunged her hands into the cold, wet snow, needing it to ground her and wake her up from her nightmare. Matthias stood in the doorway, watching warily in the background.

"Sorry," Y/N said quietly, her voice almost being lost in the wind. She sniffled and ducked her head, hiding her face. "I'm sorry."

Matthias approached cautiously. He hovered behind her for a moment before kneeling down behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be sorry for something you can't control."

Y/N chuckled, a shiver wracking through her body. "You surprised that Grisha have nightmares too?" She asked, turning to look at him. "That we're human?"

Matthias was silent. Y/N scoffed quietly, knowing she was right.

Their silent argument ended abruptly when a wolf let out a loud howl, only a few feet away. Both Y/N and Matthias looked up, struggling to see the animal through the dark and blinding snow.

The wolf stalked forward, baring its teeth at Y/N. She didn't move.

"Don't attack it," Matthias said quietly, slowly rising to his feet.

"No offence, Drüskelle, but I'm not going to let a wolf attack me because it's a sacred animal to you," Y/N hissed.

"Just wait," Matthias insisted. "Let him move first. If he attacks first then we know."

"And if he just stands there?"

"Then we wait."

The wolf snarled, taking another step forward. It howled. And then turned around and walked off.

"Get up, slowly," Matthias said, holding a hand out to Y/N.

Y/N reached behind her and took his hand, letting him pull her into his side. Matthias wrapped an arm around her shoulders, trying to warm Y/N up, as they watched the wolf walk off into the night.

"I've never seen a wolf just leave before," Y/N said quietly, shivering under Matthias' arm.

"They're mainly peaceful if not provoked," Matthias replied.

"As are Grisha."

Matthias looked down at her, his eyes finding hers. He looked at her for a moment in silence. Y/N looked up at him. She met his gaze for only a few seconds before she swayed against him, her knees giving out and plunging her back into the snow.

Matthias fell to the snow with her, pulling her into his side and putting an arm under her legs, another around her back, and lifting her up out of the snow. He carried her back inside, sitting her in front of the fire.

He grabbed the furs off the bed and piled them onto her, wrapping them around her shivering form. Y/N didn't protest, her eyes closing involuntarily as she tried to stay focused on the fire.

"Now who's dying of hypothermia," she muttered, her teeth chattering as she gave Matthias a half-hearted smile.

Matthias sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her shoulder as he tried to warm her up.

"For a man who hunts Grisha for a living, you are very determined to keep me alive," Y/N said quietly.

Matthias sighed to himself. "It was Grisha who killed my entire family. They set the village on fire and let it burn. My mother, sister and father all died. Because of Grisha."

Y/N was silent. Eventually, she spoke, her eyes focused on the fire. "Not all Grisha are good, Druskelle. Not all Grisha are bad. Like people. The Grisha who murdered your family are the minority. We are not all like that. And we are certainly not witches. We create from elements that already exist in the world."

"Such as?"

Y/N pulled her arm out from under the furs. She looked up at Matthias. "Are we friends?"

Matthias nodded. "We are."

Y/N nodded. She held her hand palm up and then made a scooping motion, her eyes closed. She felt Matthias stiffen as fire appeared in her hand, orange flames dancing around her fingers.

"It's not magic. I simply summon all the combustible gases in the world, for there are thousands, and fire appears." Y/N waved her hand and the fire vanished. She pulled her hand back inside the furs. "That's all it is. Small Science, as we call it. No magic."

Matthias nodded. He didn't seem to be able to speak. He eventually decided on what he wanted to say. "What was your nightmare about? Only if you want to tell me."

Y/N shifted closer to Matthias. "I'm sure you've heard of General Kirigan - or the Darkling."

"I think it'd be impossible to find someone in all of Ravka, Fjerda and beyond who hasn't heard of it."

"It?"

"It was not a man, nor a human. It is simply it."

Y/N smiled to herself. It slowly faded as she returned to her mind. "I was a Grisha under his orders when Sankt Alina first appeared. I was fresh out of school - a young Grisha desperate to prove herself. And he used me like he used hundreds of others. I was trapped under his control until King Nikolai broke us out.

"But the Darkling had done enough by then. Being used by him - controlled by him is something I do not wish to repeat. Sometimes in the night, I think I see him. I know he is long dead and burnt but... I hear his voice in the wind, I see his shadows in the darkness and all I can think about is what he did to me."

Matthias was silent. He knew about the Darkling. Everyone did. But very few knew about what it did to the young Grisha under its command.

"My name is Y/N Y/L/N, by the way," Y/N said quietly. "I feel like since I'm pouring my heart out to you, we should know each other's names."

Matthias smiled. "I'm Matthias Helvar."

Y/N nodded. She dropped her head onto Matthias' shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Matthias."

Matthias sat there, an arm around her shoulders, watching the flames dance away until morning came.

It took them five days to find civilisation. The snowstorm passed after three days and it took them two days of walking - and almost falling off a cliff - to reach safety.

The inn wasn't much - it was full of Fjerdan sailors on their way out or back from long trips out at sea. But it was warm and it was safe - for now.

"I don't know how I feel about stealing," Matthias said as Y/N unlocked the door to their room.

"I didn't steal, I borrowed," Y/N corrected, walking inside.

"Are you going to give it back?"

"Indirectly, yes."

Matthias laughed. Y/N stared at him.

"Saints, Matthias, I didn't know you could laugh!" She exclaimed.

Matthias chuckled as he took his coat off and sat down on the bed, stretching his legs out.

"It appears we have learnt a lot about each other this past week," he said softly, smiling at her.

Y/N approached him and sat down on his right, dropping her head to his shoulder. "You know, I have no idea what Roëd means."

"What?"

"The other night, when I was having a nightmare, you called me Roëd..."

Matthias' smile grew. "It means red in Fjerdan."

"Red? Why red?"

"Well, when we first met -"

"When you kidnapped me, you mean."

Matthias rolled his eyes. "You were wearing a red skirt, like the one you're wearing now. Since I didn't know your name... I thought Roëd was subtle."

Y/N nodded, a smile working its way onto her face. "I like it."

Matthias put his arm around Y/N's shoulders - an action he'd found himself doing numerous times over the past week. He ran his thumb up and down her arm, gently following an imaginary line.

"What will you do now?" Matthias asked quietly.

The question had been praying on his mind for days now. What happens next. He could easily go back to Brum, resume his training, tell his tale. Y/N could easily return to wherever she came from - carry on leaving her life. Nothing would change.

Except something had changed. The world had shifted. Just a bit, but enough to know that there was no going back to the before.

"Find a ship back to Ketterdam," Y/N said softly. Her left hand was entwined with his, her fingers playing with his. "Tell my boss what happened and hope he gives me my job back. What about you?"

"I don't know."

"Have I changed you that much, Druskelle?" Y/N asked, tilting her head up to look at him.

Matthias looked down at her. "Perhaps. What is... Ketterdam like?"

"First of all, excellent pronunciation," Y/N said, looking back down again. "Second of all, it's shit."

"Then why would you want to go back?"

"Because it was the only place to welcome me after I left Ravka. I fitted in seamlessly there. No questions were asked about me or my powers. I got a job and they treat me well. It works for me."

"I cannot imagine what it must be like to be... persecuted everywhere you go."

"Saints, I have changed you!" Y/N said, looking back at him. She smiled. "It's hard. Trusting people is harder. I haven't used my power in years as a result but... I prefer it that way, oddly. I was used and wanted for my power in Ravka. In Ketterdam I am just me. I'm just Y/N."

Matthias stared at the wall for a moment. "I'd like to go somewhere like that. Where it is simply just... you and I. Simply Y/N and Matthias."

"No prejudice."

"No hatred."

"Just us."

Matthias looked back at her and leaned down, capturing Y/N's lips in a kiss before she had a chance to move. He leant back and pressed his forehead to hers.

"I'll miss this," Matthias said quietly, knowing deep down, that it would inevitably end as all good things did. "Us."

Y/N closed her eyes, pressing her lips together. "You know, Matthias, I could be in love with someone like you."

"I know. As could I."

And that was the truth. She could love him and he could love her. Despite the ways they'd been raised. Despite what they'd lived through and experienced at the hands of their people, both of them, Grisha and Druskelle, could and did love each other.

It was the truth and the pain of it. Knowing that their love was never meant to be.

And that it was never destined to last.

[amberbeach]

'FAMILY SECRETS'

gif belongs to me

The moment he found out the truth, Mack was stunned, then disblief set in, then he panicked. It had been two days since he learned that he wasn't human - an andriod that had been activated two years ago and filled with memories to make him more believable.

And Mack couldn't bring himself to face you after the revelation. How could he? What could he say? What would you say when you found out he was an andriod?

For a week he ignored your calls, and your text messages, only listening to the concerned voicemails you left him. He believed he was doing the right thing, letting you go before your relationship grew more serious - when engagement became the next natural step. But he knew when you spent an evening relaxing outside his house, that he would marry you the moment the sun was shining down on you, and you smiled over at him. That's when he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. But what future did you have now?

Spencer answered the door when you knocked. He knew why Mack had avoided speaking to you, and despite his efforts to lift his spirits, Mack continued to sulk, refusing to acknowledge his father.

"Hi, is Mack here? I haven't heard from him for a while. I just wanted to make sure he is alright."

Spencer knew Mack would have prefered he turned you away, but instead he led you to where Mack was sitting, the leader surprised you had entered, standing up from the sofa.

"Y/N?"

"Thanks, Spencer." You sent the butler a smile which he returned before he walked away.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I was worried when you didn't reply to my dozens of messages."

"You should go." Mack told you, returning to his seat.

"Not until you talk to me." You spoke softly, approaching him. "Did I do something -"

Mack shook his head. "It's not you it's me."

"That old cliche."

"I mean it. You shouldn't have come here."

"Not until you tell me what's so wrong with you that we should stop seeing each other." You took a seat on the coffee table, ducking your head to hold his gaze when he looked away.

"I can't tell you." He spoke quietly after a few moments. "You'll look at me differently and I-I don't think I want that saved to the memory drives."

Your eyebrows furrowed, "Mack, you're not making a lick of sense."

"You know how you always say that every family has their secrets?" He began.

You nodded.

"Yeah, well, it turns out mine is a little different." He continued. "A little over two years ago, I came online, falsified memories implanted to - I don't know. Make it more believable, I guess." He finally met your confused gaze, "I'm an andriod that Mr Hartford created. I'm not human, Y/N. I'm just a machine."

"I don't believe that." You began gently, reaching out to take his hand. "I've never met someone who cares more than you do. Andriod or human."

"This changes everything."

"Not if we don't let it." You squeezed his hand and he lowered his gaze, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"You should be with someone who can feel things like you do."

"Mack, I love you." He met your gaze. "And I don't believe that your love for me was artificial, do you?"

He shook his head. "There was a virus in the system. I woke up with my head on a table and m-my body in a chair."

You frowned, placing your free hand on his arm. "Oh, Mack."

"I was so sure about everything before...now the future I had mapped out seems impossible."

"We'll figure it out." You placed a hand on his cheek and smiled softly. "Together."

Mack returned your smile, placing a hand on the nape of your neck, leaning in to kiss you. "I love you." He murmured as he pulled away a few moments later.

"I know. I love you too." You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you onto his lap, pressing a kiss to his temple as you combed your fingers through his hair, his head resting on your chest.

The future was always uncertain, but you knew that whatever happened, you and Mack could get through it. Together.

[aalbedo]

injured!tartaglia x reader (part 2)

part two of this

request: Hello I absolutely loved your one shot of Tartaglia helping an injured reader sdjgksjfkf if you don't mind I'd like to request a part 2 where reader asks him the story behind that big scar he pointed out? Maybe reader finds HIM injured and returns the favor and asks about his other scars while they treat his wounds?? Ahaha reader's just like "fuck I can't just leave you here to bleed out but don't you dare think this means I care for you or anything" lmao

format: two-parter (again, read part one first)

ship: tartaglia x reader

tags: fluff, reader is the traveler-ish (a completely separate character from aether and lumine, but still the traveler, does that make sense?), author forgets basic wound care halfway into the fic

warnings: blood, mildly graphic depiction of injury, stitches and needles

words: 3027

notes: hey so uhhhhhhhh i kinda went off the rails with this one, i didn't really follow the prompt in some points since uh... the part about the stories behind the scars... i kinda forgot about that... or like... eh you'll see, anyway, - banner still fucked up it will be fixed i prommy

Despite the high number of hilichurl camps, abyss mages, fatui agents, ruin hunters and ruin guards, Lisha was still one of your favorite places to explore, it was full of treasure chests to open, sweet flowers to pick and ore to mine. Plus, the atmosphere managed to still be peaceful, the open fields where the sun would shine uninterrupted for hours and hours on end were your favorite place to sit down and bask in the sunlight.

Your leg was still recovering from the tough hit you had taken a few weeks prior, which meant that you had to take more breaks while adventuring. Not that you would complain, taking breaks, putting some numbing cream on your wound, eating some reinvigorating food and drinking fresh water was just as satisfying as exploring.

After resting for about half an hour, you decided to get up, careful not to put any pressure on your injured leg. You threw your bag over your shoulder and walked north-west, towards the road to the chasm.

In the distance, you started hearing sounds of fighting, and as you got closer to them, you could see a tall figure fighting not one, but two separate ruin hunters, with a bow. It was too far away to see the person’s face, but you had half an idea of who it could be.

Then, out of nowhere, a bright purple flash, and in less than a second the ruin hunters were both on the ground, completely destroyed. Yep, it’s Tartaglia.

You thought about turning away and changing your direction before he could see you. You had already reluctantly thanked him for helping you that day, as well as paying for your medication out of his own pocket, but you still felt like you owed him a favor that you really did not want to fulfill. He was still the guy that almost destroyed Liyue, and made you fight for your life, despite everything.

Until you saw him fall to his knees, and as he turned to face your direction you could see his chest covered in blood.

You acted on instinct, ignoring your brain telling you to leave him alone, that he could tend to his own wounds, and you sprinted towards him. He may be an asshole, but you just want to avoid him, not leave him to die.

He was resting his back on a wall, head thrown back. Even from far away, you could see that he was breathing heavily. That same backpack you had seen on him the day he helped you was now sitting next to him, his left hand already rummaging through it.

His head shot up, he had definitely heard you coming towards him, his eyes widened as you kneeled down right in front of him and got a better look at his condition. You could see a cut crossing his chest, from his right shoulder to the middle of his torso, right over his heart. His grey coat was soaked in blood, as it pooled on the bend of his hips and slid down to the ground.

“So you do care about me.” he broke the silence, struggling to talk through heavy breaths and groans. He was completely out of breath, covered in blood, definitely in pain, and all he could think about was joking.

“I don’t. Just because I hate you, it doesn’t mean I want to see you dead.” You didn’t have time to get mad at him. “Also - I owe you a favor, I guess.” The only thought in your head was to help him, so you did not think twice before quickly unbuttoning his coat and undercoat and moving them out of the way.

You got a look at his chest and through the blood you could see several other scars, most of them looked years old, a few of them looked pretty large, carving his chest and abdomen. You wondered if his entire body looked like this, and why his face didn’t.

“Like what you see?” he joked again, his voice sounded hoarse, strained, very clearly struggling to talk. You sighed, couldn’t he just shut up for a minute?

You turned to your own bag to pull out anything you might need to help him. Potions, numbing cream and even a stitching kit laid next to you. You had bought the kit after that day, and started learning how to stitch wounds.

“No,” you dismissed him again. He whined quietly, you weren’t sure if it was because of your response or the wound.

All of the sudden, you felt… fear? Fear of what? Him passing out? And anger, at the fact that he wasn’t taking the situation as seriously as you were. He could easily die from this wound and all he was doing was making jokes.

You quickly started cleaning the blood with a cloth in one hand, while holding a bottle of antiseptic potion in your left, ready to pour it on top of the cut. You were being quick, passing your hand over his chest as fast as you could, trying to gather all the blood while avoiding the open skin, but there was so much of it that in mere seconds the cloth was soaked and completely useless.

You looked up at him and he was staring at the ground, his eyes completely unfocused. “Childe,” you called him and he squeezed his eyes closed, “try to stay awake.”

“Easy to say,” he muttered. At least he was awake.

You threw away the bloody cloth, and poured the antiseptic potion directly on his scar with no warning. Despite knowing that you were just helping him, a wave of guilt washed over you as you heard him cry out from the pain and throw his head back, wincing again when he hit the wall.

Half a bottle of potion and another clean cloth drenched in blood later, the wound had completely stopped bleeding, and you finally breathed out all the tension you were holding in your body.

His face, and body, were completely pale from the blood loss. His mouth was agape, eyelids half closed - looking at you, he sighed, barely letting any air out. You glared back, but by the way his head was positioned, you couldn’t help but look at his lips, the way they moved slightly every time he breathed out, they seemed so… soft, sweet. You brushed aside a thought that had snaked into your brain. His mouth curled up and he barked a laugh, but he stopped immediately and groaned again. Had he noticed that you were looking?

“Don’t laugh, it’ll hurt you,” you reminded him as you threw away the second blood drenched cloth.

“Sure,” he replied, voice still strained. “Whatever you say.”

You find a third cloth, the only clean one you had left, used some water from your bottle to make it damp and used it to wash your hands.

“Don’t talk either,” you looked at him as you opened a small glass jar containing numbing cream. “What were you thinking, being here alone and fighting two ruin guards?” He opened his mouth. “Don’t answer, you’ll tell me later.”

“I was just collecting some debts when those two attacked me.” He groaned again.

“I said, don’t talk if it hurts.” You made it clear from your tone that you were annoyed at the way that he was acting.

You dipped a couple of fingers into the cream, and hesitated before placing your bare hand on his chest, carefully placing the cream around the wound, so that he would not feel pain when you would be stitching it closed. As you got a better look at the cut, you noticed how the skin had been basically mangled, it looked like it would not be an easy recovery.

“You look like you know what you’re doing,” he pointed out, before groaning again. You were starting to wish you had taped his mouth with something.

“Because I know what I’m doing, I’m not an idiot. And you’re making me regret helping you, just shut up already.”

“Make me.”

Your hand froze over his skin. You moved your eyes back up to him, trying to decipher his expression. Was that an invitation, or just teasing? He hadn’t even tried to put on a smug face, his expression just looked tired and worn out, which made it even harder to decipher.

The longer you looked at him, the weirder it would get, you would have to do something before it got awkward and that thought from earlier slammed back into your head.

You wanted to wish you had run the other way, but the truth was that you were glad you hadn’t. Maybe it was all of the tension you had accumulated while seeing all that blood flow out of him, maybe it was the heavy lidded look he was giving you, but you placed your clean hand on the side of his face, cupping his cheek. His eyes widened, mouth parted ready to say something, but, before he could, your lips were on his.

The kiss was fast, you pulled back almost immediately and averted his gaze right away. You could feel him staring at you as you put your hand back into the jar and picked up some more cream.

“I didn’t think you would actually-” he didn’t finish the sentence.

You quickly caught a glimpse of his expression before focusing on taking care of the wound. You contained a laugh as you saw him look absolutely dumbfounded and flustered, he had seriously been rendered completely speechless by what could barely be considered a kiss. If he hadn’t lost that much blood that day, his cheeks would definitely be red.

Honestly, you couldn’t believe what had happened either. You couldn’t believe you had even done it. You could’ve just laughed it off and kept medicating him in silence. But you were glad that you didn’t.

Neither of you uttered a word for a while, and even though the atmosphere wasn’t explicitly awkward, you wished he would say something. After a thick layer of numbing cream and several minutes of silence, you finally gathered the courage to look back at him. He was clearly pretending to look away, as if he hadn’t spent the entire time looking at you working.

“Is the pain gone? Can I stitch it now?” Your voice came out unexpectedly soft. You touched the skin around the wound, waiting to get a reaction from him.

His head snapped back to face you, and he nodded. “Can’t feel a thing,” he said as he touched his own chest. “I can stitch it though, if you wa- Ah!” He lifted his right arm, the injured one, and immediately stopped mid-air, “fuck- shit, not this,” he almost yelled.

“You ripped a tendon.” You gently took his right arm, putting it back down for him, and looked at his shoulder. “I’ll stitch it, don’t worry - I’ve learned.”

He didn’t say anything, and you took it as permission. You opened the kit you had bought at Bubu pharmacy weeks prior: recurved needle, thread and tweezers. You could feel Tartaglia’s gaze on you as you struggled passing the thread through the needle, but in the end you managed to do it.

As you hovered over the wound, your gaze fell on a large scar, the one that would normally be visible from over his coat on his neck, and it went down over the left side of his body down until his hip. It looked pretty old, but it was still very visible.

“Can I ask you… how did you get that?”

“Mh?”

You pointed at the scar with your pinkie and slightly traced over it, “this scar, what happened?”

He followed your finger with his gaze, and kept his eyes on the scar even as you moved back to the still open wound. “Oh, that?” You passed the needle through the skin and pulled it out on the other side. “I was 14.”

You saw some blood trickle from the cut as you carefully pulled the thread and passed the needle through one more time. By the way he had spoken, you felt like he was going to continue talking, so you didn’t interrupt.

“Uhm, when I was 14, I-” you heard him pass his tongue over his lips, “the Abyss, you know.” You nodded quietly as you passed the needle through a few more times.

“You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to,” you reassured him, you knew that it was a pretty sensitive topic, or at least you imagined it would be. You stitched a few more loops with ease, getting progressively more comfortable with what you were doing.

“It’s fine, I- I was in-” his voice was starting to shake the slightest bit, but you noticed the change of tone in his voice.

You finally reached the end, and you cut the thread, tying it tightly at the end. You put the needle and the tweezers back into their container.

“I had to fight this… huge- and when-” once you looked up at him, you realized how lost in thought he was, looking at his scar, unable to take his eyes off it, he was probably getting some flashbacks. “I-” his voice cracked, his lower lip trembled ever so slightly, and you could not bear it anymore. Without even thinking about it, you grabbed the side of his face and dragged him in for an actual, proper kiss.

He fell right into it and reciprocated immediately, placing his left hand on the side of your waist. It was sweet, and tender, and you got a better feel of what his lips were like: just as soft as they looked.

You pulled back first once again, and as you got to look at his surprised face, eyebrows raised and everything, your mind started racing. You had just kissed not just a Fatui, not just a Harbinger, but the Harbinger that had tried to kill you, that manipulated you and that nearly destroyed Liyue for the second time. And he was sitting in front of you looking like an idiot.

You couldn’t figure out what you were feeling, but there was something going on deep in your chest, and stomach.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you quickly clarified before he could say anything. “Neither of them do, they were just to shut you up.”

“Were they?” he asked. And just like that, he came full circle back to the false smugness.

You really, really did not want to think about the weird feeling that was growing in your stomach. “Look at what I got from Baizhu.” From your bag, you pulled out a thick strip made out of cotton and a small vial full of Slime concentrate.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“What do they mean to you?” you bit back, waiting to see if he would face the question himself, or back out like a hypocrite.

“What did you get from Baizhu?”

You both chuckled, and you noticed his bare chest rising and falling back down as he laughed. “He said it’s a new type of bandaging, you use slime concentrate to stick it to the skin.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t love the sound of that, actually.”

“I was skeptical too the first time I tried it, but trust me - it’s much more comfortable.” You heard him sigh in defeat as you already spread some of the slime condensate over the strip, and set down the half empty vial. “It won’t hurt.”

“Do you promise?”

He looked into your eyes with a relaxed expression, you looked right back. “I promise,” you replied with a kind smile, before turning your attention to the strip and stuck it over the wound, carefully placing it so that it would cover the entire cut.

“All done,” you said as you started getting up, but you felt a hand grabbing your arm, another one grabbing the side of your face, and tugging you back down, and before you could realize it your lips were once again on Tartaglia’s.

You couldn’t help but reciprocate the kiss, his lips were still soft, and at that point you felt like you could get used to them. The kiss was exactly as gentle as the one before, you could feel your fluttering in your chest as Tartaglia’s thumb started gently rubbing your cheekbone.

He pulled back first this time, and as you opened your eyes back you could see a wide smile on his face.

“Sending me mixed signals, huh?” you pointed out.

“I told you, I never had anything against you personally,” he said as he put his clothes back on, trying to fix them as much as possible, despite the very clear cut on his chest and the blood covering them completely.

“I’m gonna need some time before I’ll believe that.” You got up and reached down a hand for him to get up. “You’re gonna need to prove it to me.”

He grabbed it with his non-injured hand and stood up beside you. “While you take your time, care to walk me to Bubu pharmacy, so I can buy some of these sticky bandages?” he asked, a wide smile still on his face.

“Sure,” you simply replied, picking up both of your back and tossing them over your shoulder.

You watched him move his injured arm slightly, to figure out how much he could move it. Unsurprisingly, not much.

He hummed. “I’m gonna have to take some time off from duty, hopefully they won’t kill me for it,” he said in a joking manner, but you could sense that he wasn’t kidding about the killing part.

“Well,” as you both started walking back to the harbor, you got an idea, “you could use the time off to show me that you truly don’t hate me.”

“Like what?” You could feel his gaze on you.

“Like, we could go out for dinner,” you suggested, keeping your eyes in front of you. “In a completely neutral way, and then see what happens from there.”

“Sounds good.”

“It’s a plan, then.”