#i hope Vessel is getting all the love and hugs and forehead kisses he deserves

[moonchild-in-blue]

Oh, and I know I can tell I'm falling further again But I won't turn away It's far too late for me

(It's too late for me / It's too late)

I can't really put into words how much of an iron grip this song has on me. Especially that last part, where he repeats "It's too late for me" - I can't listen to it without tearing up and waiting to sing along from the top of of my lungs. It's one of those where I desperately wish I didn't relate to it, but in a weird, sick way, I'm glad I do.

It's SUCH a cathartic feeling to just put in on full volume and sing along. I just know Vessel must've had such a visceral moment recording this (all of their songs really, but yeah).

[weelittleweasley]

Muggle Music | Draco x Reader

Prompt: As a muggle born Hufflepuff you find comfort in your muggle music and books when you are feeling anxious or insecure. Although Draco has been known to have a distaste for muggles or of muggle descent, however you when it comes to you, his opinions change.

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Hi all! So sorry I haven’t been as active this weekend. I took the time to relax and have a little fun and unwind before things get crazy work wise with me. Hopefully I’ll be back to pumping out fics again by tomorrow!

You delicately place the record on your player that is perched happily on top of your dresser as music starts to play as the record spins. The sounds of the familiar verses and chorus melt away any anxieties that were plaguing you through the day. Stevie Nicks’s voice washed over you as you allowed your body to sway gently to the music. 

Being muggle born wasn’t something you normally worn with a badge of pride at school. You were a little embarrassed that you never grew up around magic and its brilliance, rather you grew up with the mundaneness that was being ordinary for so long. But nothing could quite cheer you up like listening to muggle music or reading a good book that your mother bought from the book store. It was simple, but it never failed to make you feel at home, swallowed with warmth and comfort through these tiny vessels of your muggle upbringing.

Aside from not growing up with magic and missing out on the portion, you were also embarrassed of being a muggle especially because of who you were dating. Everyone and their mother knew that the Malfoy lineage was strict about marrying pure and only having children that would be pure bloods. You had been dating Draco for only a couple of months, but you did feel insecure about his dating history and how it has only been with pure bloods. You were the first to break that streak. Draco didn’t expect to fall for you, but when it happened, it happened fast and every thought he had about you not being a pureblood washed away. But there was always that little voice inside his head that spoke, What would mother and father think about this?

You swayed to Fleetwood Mac, trying to keep your negative thoughts at bay about how scared you were that Draco was going to break up with you because of your blood status. Earlier that day you had heard Pansy Parkinson gossiping to her posse about how Draco deserved to be with a pure blood and not some “mudblood” like you were. When you heard the words fall from her mouth, you wanted to cry. She was right. Draco deserved someone who would make his family proud and you would not do that. 

You didn’t even notice the tears falling from your eyes until they ran across your lips, the salty taste on your tongue. Rhiannon softly played in the background as you wiped your tears away with the backs of your hand. This was such a silly thing to cry over, but you couldn’t help but feel the way you did. Your insecurities were getting the best of you again.

Suddenly, a gentle few knocks come from your door. You suck up your sniffles and wipe what remains of the tears away. Glancing in the mirror, you check your appearance before opening the door. And there he stood. Draco in his Slytherin robes, his white blonde hair combed back, and sneaky little smile. He pulled you in for a tight hug by your contrasting Hufflepuff robes, breathing your scent in as you relaxed under his touch. “Good afternoon, darling,” Draco squeezes you, planting a kiss on your forehead. 

“Hi,” you mutter into his chest before pulling away, letting him inside your room. 

Draco enters, plopping his bag down at your desk. He contorts his face and says, “What is that?” as if to be disgusted by the music you are playing. Your heart sinks gently into your stomach as his face looks confused. 

You feel like your insecurities are now sticking out like a sore thumb. The things that bring you comfort make Draco contort with disgust. “Oh, sorry,” you quickly rush to your record player and turn off Fleetwood Mac as Landslide gets cut off. Too bad, that was your favorite song on that album. “It was my music from home. Mum gave me a few albums to take with me if I ever needed a taste of home. I didn’t know you were coming over or else I wouldn’t have played it.”

Draco suddenly grows disappointed in himself. Something you had loved so dearly and had such fond memories attached to was something he was taught to deplore. His disgust with all things doing with muggles made you upset because you were muggle born. Which in turn, meant he was supposed to hate where you came from. How could hate someone as lovely, considerate, and gentle as you? It would be impossible. “Don’t apologize. It’s your room, you play whatever you want. You can keep playing it if you want to,” he urges, hoping that you’ll play the music again just so he can see you happy, dancing along to whatever rhythm played from the odd machine you tinkered with.

Shaking your head, you insist, “No, I don’t want to play it anymore. It’ll just make me sad.” Sad because you miss home and sad because you know that Draco and you come from two separate worlds and he hated yours. Or so you thought. You chose to ignore the sad smile on Draco’s face. “Let’s change the subject, shall we?”

As you talked to Draco about your plans for the upcoming weekend in Hogsmeade, he couldn’t help but be distracted by his own thoughts. He hated knowing that you were uncomfortable and insecure of your muggle history. He hated that he was conditioned from such a young age to have a distaste in those things thanks to his father’s upbringing. Draco’s heart strings were strung any time he noticed you shift in your seat when someone bought up not being of pureblood descent. You would get very quiet and minutes later excuse yourself to go somewhere else away from the people who had insulted you in passing. He knew he wanted to make it up to you, but it was just a matter of how he would do it. 

----

A few days later, you parked yourself at a table in the library, studying and doing homework quietly, scribbling down in your notebook every once in a while. As you jot down notes, you didn’t notice Pansy pass your table. “Studying hard mudblood?” she coos sarcastically at you.

“Please leave me alone, Pansy,” you quietly plead. You just needed to study. That was all. You didn’t need to be reminded of all of your insecurities in the middle of the library for everyone around you to watch your discomfort.

Pansy leans on the table. “Why? Because Draco can’t defend you?” she spits. “I’m still shocked that he’s with a loathsome creature like yourself. Aren’t you embarrassed? You’ll never quite live up to his or his parents expectations? I mean, what’s going to happen when you meet his parents? Let’s see if you even make it up to that point.” 

Tears start to prick in your eyes as you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat. “Go away, Pansy,” you speak gently, no malice in your voice even though you had wished there would be. 

“Am I talking about a sensitive topic?” she asks, knowing damn well what sees doing. “Admit it, (Y/N). You’re no good for Malfoy. You and your little muggle music and muggle books. You’ll never be enough for him.”

With that, you gather all of your stuff and dash out of the library, the laughs of Pansy echoing in the library. As you turn the corner, you bump into the person you wished most not to. “Hi, love,” Draco speaks, happy to see you until he sees the hot tears streaming down your face. “Hold on, wait a minute, what’s wrong?” he grabs your arms, looking at you in the eyes.

You shake your head, “I have to go.” You push past your boyfriend, running out of the library, completely horrified of what just went down. Running down the halls and up the stairs, you try to avoid the stares of concerned students and passing, (Y/N), are you okays. You just wanted to get back to your room.

Opening the door with a swing and then slamming it shut, you inhale a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You were away from Pansy now and her torturous comments. Looking to your desk, you know exactly what you needed no matter how much it reminded you of your past. You grabbed another record from your stash that you tucked away in your drawer and plucked Queen from the pile. As you placed it on your record player, the sounds of the Jazz album filling your dormitory, sending soothing waves of comfort through you, drying your tears instantly.

Meanwhile in the library, Draco marched over to Pansy, steam bellowing from his ears. Pansy’s smile fell as she saw the pissed boy. “I don’t know what you said, but to be quite frank, Parkinson, I’m not surprised it was something rude and selfish, much like yourself,” Draco spit at her.

Pansy rolls her eyes, “Come on, Draco. You know better than anyone that you don’t belong with a mudblood. You need to stick with your own kind.”

Draco’s blood is boiling. “First of all, you know shit about what is best for me, Pansy, so I’d suggest keeping your fat nose out of my business. Second, muggle born or not, (Y/N) is a brilliant, beautiful person who is a better witch than you will ever be. If I even sense you close to (Y/N) again, consider yourself done for,” Draco scolds Pansy as her face turns parchment white. 

After his little meltdown, Draco leaves the library. On a mission to find you and comfort you after what just happened. 

In your room, you lay on your bed, listening to your muggle music, as you glide your fingers over the binding of your favorite muggle book, The Scarlet Letter. Maybe Pansy was right? You should just stick to your muggle things and stay away from what is muggle born. It would be for the best. 

Your thoughts are disturbed when you hear a knock at the door. You groan, emerging from your position on your bed. The door opens and there’s Draco who wastes no time in scooping you up in a hug. “Don’t listen to her,” he speaks into your hair. “She has no idea what she’s talking about. She is jealous.”

“But she’s right, Draco. I’m a dumb muggle born who doesn’t belong in your world. You were destined to hate me and everything I come from. It should stay that way before things get too complicated,” you try to reason with him as Draco shakes his head in disbelief. “You’ve only dated purebloods, Draco. Ever since we got here, you’ve dated purebloods and purebloods only. I haven’t dated anyone and Merlin, it’s year six! Now, my first ever boyfriend is not supposed to like people like me.” 

Draco’s heart breaks hearing you talk about yourself like this. “You mean someone who is considerate? Someone who is compassionate? Someone who loves people for their hearts?” he retorts as you ignore him. “(Y/N), I don’t care if you are pureblood or not. I want you and you only.”

Your heart should be swelling with joy, but it only makes it break. “I need to be alone right now, Dray. Please,” you whisper, holding your face in your hands. “Just leave me be for right now.”

Everything is screaming for Draco to stay and work this out with you, but he knows you need some space. He just shakes his head and leaves your room sadly. When the door closes, you don’t hesitate in letting the tears fall again. 

-----

Potions class was finally dismissed as you walked alone in the halls, trying to distance yourself from everyone, to scurry away in your room, curling up into your bed while listening to more muggle music, wishing you were home with your mother and father and siblings. 

Draco hadn’t come to talk to you since the library incident two days prior. He didn’t even bother trying to find you when your class took the weekend trip to Hogsmeade. You figured that he was out of your life for good and no matter how much you wanted him to stay, you knew it was best for the both of you. The relationship wouldn’t have worked out anyway. It was best for you to part separate ways.

As you approach your dormitory, you hear the faint chorus of Paul Anka’s Put Your Head On My Shoulder coming from the other side of your door. Your eyebrows furrow. Did I leave the record player on? I don’t even have that record though? You push the door open to reveal a Draco standing the middle of your room, Paul Anka playing on your record player. “What are you doing?” you ask him right off the bat.

Draco has a small smile on his lips. “Doing what I should have done when I asked you to be mine,” he claims as he grabs your hands. “When we took the trip to Hogsmeade this weekend, I bought some muggle records they had in the back of the shoppe as well as some new books for your collection,” he points to three large stacks of records and books on your desk as a smile threatens to spill on your lips. “I should have made an effort to learn about what you grew up with. But better late than never?” he suggests as you engulf him in the most enormous hug you can muster. Draco laughs as you squeeze him tight, his grip on you iron. “I took some time to listen to some of your favorite records and I stayed up all last night reading your favorite book.”

“You read The Scarlet Letter?” you ask in disbelief. The surprises never stopped when it came to Draco. He proudly nodded. “I can’t believe you would do all of this for me...this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Draco’s heart swells with pride. “It’s what you deserve,” he simply states. “Now,” he extends his hand to you. “Will you join me for a dance?”

Giggling, you accept his hand as the two of you rock gently to the sounds of Paul Anka on your record player, gazing into each others eyes as you smile like an idiot. “I can’t believe you sometimes, Malfoy,” you shake your head. “What do you think of it? The music, the book?”

“To be honest with you, it’s not half bad. The ABBA album is pretty good,” he shrugs, making you laugh wildly, throwing your head back. “Now that’s music to my ears,” he refers to your laughter as you blush. 

For the next few hours, you and Draco listen to your new albums he purchased for you as you lecture him on muggle books and authors, him smiling wide as you speak passionately about them. Although Draco knew his father would have a field day when he heard about this, he couldn’t care less. You were happy and that’s all that mattered to Draco.

[tickly-trashcan]

Cheer Up! {ItaFushi}

A/N: One of these asks came in just the other day so I’m assuming it was a modification, hope the fic turned out to your liking! This idea is really cute aaa I love Itadori so much he’s adorable, so naturally he deserves to be tickled! 

Summary: Itadori is feeling a bit down, and Fushiguro takes it upon himself to make him feel better. 

Word Count: 1.3k (under the cut)

Fushiguro walked down the hall of the dormitory. He had his hands behind his head as he walked towards his dorm. He opened the door when suddenly he heard a soft noise from Itadori’s dorm. His head perked up slightly as he glanced further down the hallway to Itadori’s dorm, where the noise sounded again, sounding similar to a scratch.

Fushiguro shrugged it off, it wasn’t unusual for Itadori to be doing some odd thing in his dorm such as practicing jujutsu, and Fushiguro decided that he shouldn’t interrupt. He went into his own dorm, sitting on the bed as he leaned back, about to drift off into a nap when the noise sounded again. It was less muffled this time and sounded more like a sniffle than a scratch, which worried Fushiguro slightly. Itadori was his boyfriend, it probably wouldn’t be weird to check up on him… would it?

Fushiguro hesitated. He had never been in a relationship before, which is something that he hadn’t been expecting to happen until Itadori came into his life. He couldn’t describe what exactly it was about him, but since the first day he met Itadori, Fushiguro had totally fallen.

The sound came on again, louder this time as Fushiguro decided it was time for him to go check on Itadori. He left his dorm and knocked on Itadori’s dorm. There was no response, which was unusual. Normally when Fushiguro knocked on Itadori’s door he would come running up and open it happily, but that wasn’t currently the case.

He opened the door gently, peeking his head inside to see Itadori curled up on his bed, back facing him.

“Yuji…?” 

Itadori glanced over his shoulder, quickly whipping his head back at the sight of Fushiguro.

“L-Leave me alone,” He called, rubbing his eyes as Fushiguro walked in, shutting the door behind him.

“I can’t leave you alone when you’re like this. What’s wrong?” Fushiguro sat on the bed next to Itadori, placing a hand on his shoulder, which Itadori quickly pushed away.

“It’s nothing I just… never mind,” Itadori said quietly, whimpering. Fushiguro frowned. He wasn’t sure what he should do in this situation, but he decided that he needed to do something.

“It’s not nothing to me, can you tell me? I can try and make you feel better,” Fushiguro suggested. Itadori didn’t respond, only curled up more as Fushiguro sighed.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me,” Fushiguro said, poking Itadori in the side to get his attention. What he wasn’t expecting was him to suddenly squeak and turn his head to face Fushiguro again.

“Did you just…”

“It was nothing! Please just… stop worrying about me, I’m fine,” Itadori sat up and forced a smile, but seeing Itadori’s tear-stained face with that forced smile… Fushiguro felt his heart wrench.

“I’m not gonna leave until I get a genuine smile from you, I don’t want you to be sad,” Fushiguro said, grabbing Itadori’s hand and rubbing his thumb over the top as Itadori’s fake smile faded, and he looked at Fushiguro.

“It’s gonna be a while…”

“Do you want a hug?” Fushiguro offered, a hug being the only thing he could think of to cheer up his saddened boyfriend. Itadori smiled weakly and nodded, opening his arms and leaning against Fushiguro. 

Fushiguro placed his hands on Itadori’s waist as they hugged, rubbing his thumb back and forth like he did previously with Itadori’s hand. He figured it would help Itadori calm down a bit, since it seemed to work whenever he did it with his hand, such as before a mission.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was for Itadori to start squirming in his grip and giggle softly. Fushiguro pulled back slightly, looking at Itadori who seemed to be smiling more now as he giggled.

“Why are you giggling?” Fushiguro asked, and Itadori looked at him confused. 

“You weren’t doing it on purpose? You’re tickling me, Megumi,” Itadori said simply, poking Fushiguro’s tummy a few times. “See? Like this.”

Fushiguro chuckled a bit, pushing away Itadori’s hand. Fushiguro thought for a moment, and came up with an idea.

“Megumi? What’s with the face?” Itadori asked, cocking his head to the side as Fushiguro scooted towards him, placing his hands on Itadori’s shoulders. Itadori’s face went slightly pink as Fushiguro leaned in closer, before pushing him down on the bed.

Itadori gasped, but then squeaked when Fushiguro’s hands were on his sides, squeezing them slightly.

“M-Megumi?”

“I’m gonna cheer you up, okay?”

Itadori raised an eyebrow and went to sit up. “I don’t think I can be cheered up right now, I just - WAhahahaha?? Megumi, whahahahahat are you doing?”

“I’m cheering you up.”

“N-Nohohoho! WahahaHAIT!” Itadori giggled cutely, covering his face with his hands as he wiggled back and forth, trying to shake off Fushiguro’s tickly fingers.

He scribbled up and down his sides and waist, then danced his fingers along Itadori’s ribs, making sure to poke between each one, making Itadori squeak each time. He pulled one hand off of his face to swat at Fushiguro’s hands, but it wasn’t of much use.

“Megumihihihihihi! GAHa! Wait, not thehehehEHEHERE!!” Itadori shrieked, laughing hard as Fushiguro danced along his upper ribs, spidering his fingers all around as Itadori squealed in ticklish agony, using both hands to try and fight of Fushiguro.

Fushiguro blushed when he saw Itadori’s face. It was dusted pink as he beamed, laughter pouring from his lips as his eyes were squeezed shut. He looked… happier.

Fushiguro smiled. He was happy that Itadori seemed to be feeling better.

“KyAHA! NOHOHOhohoHO! Gah, no mohohohoHOHORE!” Itadori cackled, arching his back as Fushiguro squeezed his hips. Itadori snorted when Fushiguro dug his thumb into his hipbone, making Fushiguro chuckle.

“Did you just snort?”

“I-I’m sorreeheeheeHEE!” Itadori squealed, pushing at Fushiguro’s shoulders. Fushiguro barked out a laugh.

“Don’t apologize for that… it was cute,” Fushiguro averted his gaze and blushed, Itaori unable to hear him over his screaming laughter.

Fushiguro couldn’t get enough of Itadori’s bubbly laughter, but he knew he would have to stop soon. Itadori snorted again when Fushiguro dug his hands under his arms, clamping his arms down as his back arched, squealing in hysterical laughter as he shook his head back and forth.

“I CAHAHAHAhahan’t! Pl-Plehehehease, no more!” Itadori wheezed, laughter going silent, save for another snort. Fushiguro halted his fingers, pulling his hands away from Itadori who now lay panting on the bed, one hand on his tummy.

Fushiguro laid down next to Itadori on his side, reaching out and ruffling Itadori’s hair. Itadori whined, pushing Fushiguro’s hand away, now smiling genuinely.

“Did I go too far?” Fushiguro asked, now slightly concerned as Itadori continued to catch his breath. He leaned on his side, facing Fushiguro as he shook his head.

“Mm-mm. That was actually a lot of fun! But next time, I get to tickle you, ‘kay?”

Fushiguro laughed and shook his head.

“There’s no way you’re gonna tickle me… but are you feeling better now?”

Itadori’s smiled faded slightly and he averted his gaze.

“Yeah, I feel much better, thank you… I just felt like I was a bit unworthy to be Sukuna’s vessel, y’know? Like maybe there would’ve been someone better…”

Fushiguro cupped Itadori’s cheeks, forcing him to look at Fushiguro. Itadori blushed faintly.

“You’re one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met, you’re more than worthy to be Sukuna’s vessel. You’re brave, you’re strong, and most importantly, you’re kind. You’re everything anyone could ever hope to be you’re… so amazing.”

Itadori smiled, hugging Fushiguro awkwardly as he squeezed him tightly, Fushiguro hugging him back as they stayed in an embrace for several moments. Itadori finally pulled away, pressing his forehead against Fushiguro’s.

“Thank you…” He whispered. Fushiguro quickly kissed his cheek, nodding.

“Anything for you.”

They laid there for a long time, just the two of them, happy as could be.

[ao3bronte]

Transience

This is my contribution to @mlwriterzine Once Upon A Season! It was a pleasure to be a part of the project and the finished piece (a gorgeous 260 page paperback) was a treat!

Also on AO3!

Adrien is and always has been a young man of many talents. He excels in sports, outshines in academics, and loves tinkering with the vintage 1962 Ferrari he keeps in a secret garage just up the road from their belle-époque penthouse apartment in Paris. So honestly, Marinette shouldn’t have been surprised upon finding a sailing yacht waiting for them in the luxurious marina of Saint-Tropez.

“Um...” Gobsmacked, Marinette slips off her sandals and follows him over the exquisitely varnished toerail, “... since when do you know how to drive a boat?”

“Since I was eight.” Adrien shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “Mère loved to come down every year to watch the annual regatta. She even sailed in a few of them herself.”

“Wow.” Marinette’s eyes grow wide as she gawks at the opulent 16 metre sailboat. She’d never dreamt of setting foot on one, let alone cruising on one through the French Riviera for a week on her honeymoon. Elated, Marinette can hardly keep the stars from her eyes as she drops her shoulder bag and scampers across the deck until she reaches the front of the vessel, splaying her arms out wide.

“I’m the king of the world!” she cries, laughing as Adrien runs along behind her and plants his hands on her hips, holding her steady.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” She grins into the salty breeze coming off the Mediterranean and steps onto the first rung of the railings. “Just don’t let me fall overboard.”

“You’ll be flying soon, M’Lady.” Adrien pulls her against his chest and presses a kiss to her temple, his stubble scratching softly against her skin. “But first, we have some fenders to collect.”

Marinette blinks. “Uh... what exactly is a fender?”

Adrien’s indulgent laughter echoes in the headsail. “You’re about to get a crash course in Sailing 101, Buginette. Are you ready to be my first mate?”

Marinette spins around in his arms and bops him on the nose. “Teach me everything you know, Captain Kitty.”

Adrien hums, tipping her chin upwards to kiss her lips. “I like the sound of that.”

~

After a few minutes of acquiring her sea legs, Marinette and Adrien Dupain-Cheng are off amidst the serene waves of la Côte d'Azur for a honeymoon trip of a lifetime. Marinette can’t keep her eyes off of the hill-perched towns dotting the coastline, sun-drenched and prismatic against the turquoise waters of the Med. Beside her, Adrien keeps their vessel steady, his seasoned gaze trained on the horizon as they pull out of port and soar northwards, the wind at their every beck and call.

For centuries, every Parisian worth their salt flocked to the French Riviera to soak up the Mediterranean sun and the Agreste’s were no different, once upon a time. Adrien’s childhood memories aboard the Éphémère remind him of bouillabaisse and happier days spent scampering across deck pretending to be a pirate in search of buried treasure. It’s something he hopes he can share with his own children one day, especially now that he and his wife no longer have to spend every spare moment of their lives fighting Hawk Moth.

Sensing her husband’s pensive mood, Marinette snuggles deeper into his side as the afternoon sun begins to dip towards the horizon. She doesn’t need Adrien to assure her that their evenings onboard together will be positively serene with nothing but the seabirds to obstruct the sunset that will surely steal their breath away. He kisses her forehead and hugs her close, his guiding light within the storm that had been brewing since his childhood. After all those years of rough seas at the hands of his father, things were finally settling into an even keel.

Marinette learns the ins and outs of sailing quickly, securing lines and watching for traffic as they navigate along the seaboard of Saint Raphaël . Jibs and boons soon become a part of her vocabulary, and once they've successfully moored in the neighbouring marina, Marinette feels like she's run a marathon.

"That was exhausting," she groans, slumping into the cushions on the sundeck.

Adrien beams, having barely broken a sweat. "Come on; I'll make it worth your while."

Hauling her back onto her feet, Adrien leads her down into the main cabin. All clean lines and warm teak, Marinette leaves her duffel bag on the sofa and explores the spacious interior with curious eyes, carding her fingers through the decades old fashion magazines stacked in a woven basket resting on the floor. He leaves her to explore and hauls their luggage and a cooler down the ladder, filling the marine fridge with fixings for their first dinner outside of Paris. It's peaceful, with nothing but the sounds of the waves to keep them company.

The lights are warm and low in their galley kitchen, a cozy escape from the endless vistas of rocky crags and pastel-orange buildings whose narrow streets spill into the sea. Their table is just large enough for two wicker placemats and a bottle of Mouton-Cadet; old vases filled with seaglass and shells rest on every side table, their edges wrapped in nautical rope. By the counter, Marinette grates a snowy pile of Pecorino cheese over a mound of steaming spaghetti while beside her Adrien grinds fresh pepper into a ramekin, his stomach growling after an afternoon spent at sea. A comfortable silence ebbs and flows between them as the evening tide laps against the hull, drawing them towards the tangy, indulgent nest of cacio e pepe they made together.

~

Marinette wakes the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee and a deftly wrapped gift on the bedside table of their lavish master cabin. Slipping her bare legs across the silk sheets as she sits up, she opens her present and plucks one of her own Chat Noir inspired creations from the tissue paper along with a note attached inside.

Care to go for a dip with me, M’Lady?

Marinette snorts and ties the black and neon green bikini up at the neck and hips, leaving a few very tantalizing strings to pull should Adrien let his feline instincts get the best of him. Goodness knows he wouldn’t be able to resist himself, what with the way he could hardly keep his hands off of her last night while they were trying to find a deck of cards in the saloon. She glances at herself in the mirror to wipe the sleep from her eyes and quickly fastens her hair into a loose ponytail, ready to tease her husband senseless.

“Welcome to Cannes!” he announces as she emerges from below deck, mesmerized by the morning sun illuminating his blond hair like a halo. He’s gorgeous in every sense of the word, thoughtful and generous and unfailingly kind, and even in his darkest moments, he never ceases to steal her breath away.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, hooking her fingers into the belt loops of his chinos, “but not as beautiful as you.”

A ruddy flush blooms across his cheeks, a constant victim to her soft-spoken praises. “I can hardly compete against you, Buginette, especially when you’re wearing that.”

“I don’t know...” She grazes her fingernails against his bare chest and smirks as the familiar rumble in his sternum kicks into low gear. “I think the sun suits you.”

“Enough to consider moving down here for good?”

Marinette shrugs; keeping their lives rooted in Paris has been a point of contention between them since the arrest of his father. “Not permanently, no, but I wouldn’t protest if we vacationed here more often.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time you overwork yourself,” he responds, closing his eyes as she continues to explore the chiseled planes of his abs. She’s always been gifted when it comes to distractions and this morning is no different; like wayfaring on a starless night, she’s always been the beacon to guide his way. “Now, I thought I invited you up here for a swim?”

“You did.” Marinette steps back, giving him the merciful reprieve he’d needed to calm his beating heart. “And it is kind of hot up here.”

His grip on the ship’s wheel tightens. “No thanks to you.”

“Easy there, Captain Kitty.” Marinette smirks, flicking the golden bell sewn to the bridge of her bikini top. “Race you!”

“Hey!” he gapes at her, scandalized. “I still have to drop anchor!”

Marinette giggles as she zooms past him, leaping off the back of the boat with delight. “Last one in the water has to make breakfast!”

~

Meandering through the Medieval streets of the old city, Marinette and Adrien pause to catch a glimpse of Villefranche-sur-Mer ’s idyllic harbour. There’s an enormous cruise ship dominating the horizon and Adrien is thankful that they’d brought their disguises in tow. No one has recognized either of them with the way they’ve camouflaged themselves in their floppy beach hats and oversized sunglasses.

Marinette spends the afternoon popping in and out of boutiques with turquoise shutters, snapping photos and picking up little trinkets along the way. They stop for lunch at a peaches-and-cream couloured bistro nestled against the water’s edge, its open windows basking the sunlit stone walls with salt-scented air. Adrien joyfully devours his meal, a simply grilled loup de mer with fennel and lemon, while Marinette chatters over a bowl of Niçoise octopus salad that she had been eager to try since spotting it on the chalkboard menu outside.

“It feels weird, not having them around.” Adrien balances a piece of julienned fennel between the tines of his fork. “It’s the first time I’ve taken my ring off in ten years.”

“I promise you, Tikki and Plagg are appreciating their vacation too,” Marinette assures him around a mouthful of cherry tomatoes. “They deserve a break after what happened. We both do.”

Adrien nods and is quiet for a while.

~

“When I was a kid, I used to watch the cliff divers jump into that cove,” Adrien mentions as they sail by, pointing towards a sharp craig jutting from the coastline. “I always wanted to do it myself. Maybe I will.”

“You’re free to do whatever you want now.” Marinette smiles into the wind, the skirt of her sundress billowing up passed her thighs. “So chart us a course, Captain Kitty. Where are we going next?”

“First, we’re stopping in Èze .” Adrien brushes his bangs from his eyes and relishes in being at the helm of transience. “There are galleries all over the place that I know you’ll love. And we have a dinner reservation. I thought you’d appreciate the view.”

Marinette lowers her sunglasses. “I like the view here just fine, thanks.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” Adrien smirks and snags her by the hips, easily hauling her up onto the dash of the cockpit. She squeals as he savours the salt on her skin as he plants a kiss on her knee in mock apology. “There. Now I have you right where I want you.”

She kicks and he dodges easily, catching her foot with lightning fast reflexes born from being merged with the Black Cat Miraculous for so long. It’s a familiar song and dance between them, a playful contest sparking in their eyes as he peppers kisses along her ankle, her calf, anywhere he can reach. He stops just shy of the constellation of freckles at the hem of her dress and makes eye contact through his lashes, flashing her a mischievous Chat Noir smile. “I wonder if you’re ... ticklish?

Marinette shrieks as Adrien starts tickling her toes, running his fingernails up and down the arches of her feet. She’s tortured him a thousand times by attacking his sides when he least expected it so he figures it’s about time he seeks revenge. “Adrien! Stop!”

He doesn’t, of course, and chooses to memorize each and every facet of her beauty instead; her smile and her pained laughter, her marks and scars from the final battle only a month before their wedding day. “I’m never letting you go!”

“You’re going to— stop it! —have to if we ever want to get to Èze .” Marinette manages to wrench her ankle free and hops down from the ledge, landing easily in his outstretched arms. “That is, unless you want to crash.”

“If we shipwreck,” Adrien bends low and devours that little spot on her neck that makes her weak every time, “promise me you won’t hog the whole door?”

Marinette bursts into laughter. “Are we seriously going to have this debate again?”

“I’m serious! Jack could have totally fit on that— mmpf! ”

Cupping his cheeks, Marinette hurriedly kisses away the space between them and silences his long-winded debate once and for all. It’s an effective way to shut him up—all things considered—and an astonished gasp spirals from his lips as she hoists herself up his body and brackets his hips with her thighs. She claims him, covets him, her tongue sweeping across his lower lip, and he’s helpless to her siren’s song as he braces her against the cockpit’s controls and clings to her like a drowning man.

“Alright, you win.” Breathless and lightheaded, Adrien pulls back after a while just to soak her in, to remind himself that he’s married to the most beautiful woman in the world. He gazes in awe as she recovers, her flushed cheeks and parted lips swollen and wet. Adrien is drawn back in like a magnet, kissing her with every intention of stealing her breath away.

She buries her hands in his hair, her nails gently scraping against his scalp as Adrien all but melts in her embrace, groaning with pleasure. He deepens their kiss, and Adrien feels drunk with his desire to claim, their passion speaking more than words between them ever could. Every gasp and moan conveys their everlasting partnership and the terror of nearly losing one another in the whirlwind. Shell-shocked and injured, they still held their wedding ceremony, even as the fallout had tugged at their ankles, gossip and chaos pooling around their feet. Together, they’d inherited an empire he’d never wanted in the first place, thrusting them into a world unprepared and raw with nothing but each other as a tether in the storm.

“I love you,” she murmurs against his lips, her heartbeat hammering a tattoo inside her chest. He can feel it against his own, fast and strong and wonderfully alive. “We’ll get through this; together.”

Later, as they draw nearer to the charming port town of Èze, Adrien draws her close and hopes she never leaves his side. “Where to, Miss?”

Marinette smiles. “To the stars.”

~

Nothing comes so abundantly as time when you’re sailing through the seemingly endless vistas of the Med. Their honeymoon stretches on for longer than a week simply because it can; he owns their floating home-away-from-home and she’s working remotely, snagging a Wi-Fi signal whenever they’re in port.

Neither of them seem to be in any hurry to leave the solace of the French Riviera behind. It’s where he’s feasted on fresh seafood and felt better than he has in weeks. It’s where they’ve kissed and made love under the stars a thousand times over. It’s where he’s confessed his doubts about living in Paris and where she’s supported his struggle to leave his father behind.

They’re moored in Antibes tonight and the skies are awash in vibrant pinks and apricot. He drizzles balsamic vinegar onto a shimmering pond of Italian olive oil; she wears hair pins with flowers on them and pours wine like an expert, heedless to the way he’s staring at her like she’s his only source of air.

“I love you,” he whispers. It’s enough.

[superbadassnatural]

Start of Something New

Summary: When Y/N gets hit by a witch spell, Dean starts to worry even more about her well-being. Nothing seemed to happen to her. That is until it does. Square filled: magical pregnancy Pairing: Dean x Angel!Reader Word count: 2,050 Warnings: mention of unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks), mention of possible abortion, pregnancy, fluff, little bit of angst A/N: this was written for @spntfwbingo. Please enjoy it!

(x)

“Hmm, I don’t wanna get up,” you nuzzled into Dean’s bare chest. His fingers traced up and down your spine.

“Me neither, but we have to,” he mumbled. “We promised Sam we’d clean up the bunker this time.”

“I know,” you grunted, tightening your grip around his waist. “Just five more minutes, please.”

“It’s been an hour since we decided to sleep for five more minutes,” he chuckled, lips pressing to your temple. “Alright, come on. Get your feathery ass up,” he called, hand tapping your butt.

You grumbled, heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day. After pulling up your most comfortable clothes, you walked to the kitchen to meet Dean. He was already making you breakfast. You both ate in silence. Once you finished, you picked all the cleaning products you would need to clean the bunker.

“I hate Sam,” you pouted, taking the bucket from Dean’s hand.

“No, you don’t,” he pecked your lips. “Library?”

You nodded and headed towards the library. You picked the duster and sighed. The bunker was too big for only you and Dean to clean up.

“You know we’d go way faster if more people helped.”

“I know,” he said. “Once Sam is back from the grocery store, he’s cleaning the bathroom and some other rooms. Maybe if Jack comes out of his room, he can help us out too.”

You sighed, eyeing the tables and the bookshelves with the feather duster in hand. You just wanted to stay in bed today.

Classic rock echoed through the speakers. A smile appeared on Dean’s lips. He noticed you didn’t move and frowned.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you muttered.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Ever since that witch hunt-“

“I’m fine, De,” you flashed him a smile. “It’s been almost ten days since that hunt. We still don’t know what she hit me with, but it did nothing. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

“I’m always worried,” he shrugged. “‘Sides we don’t know what that spell was. Maybe it’ll affect you after 10 days, maybe it never will. We still don’t know. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“You know your girlfriend happens to be an angel, right?” you chuckled, standing in front of him. His green orbs stared deep into your eyes. “You don’t have to worry.”

“I’ve already lost you once because I was sloppy. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t,” you pressed your lips to his. “Stop blaming yourself for that. It wasn’t your fault,” he shook his head. “You know what would make us finish this much faster?” you tried to lighten up the mood.

“What?”

“If you remove the dust this time and I mop the floor.”

“Nah, it isn’t worth it.”

“Why is that?”

“I like the view,” he shrugged. “You bending over the bookshelves, over the table… it’s a sight to see. When you climb up that ladder, I get the finest view from this ass.”

“You’re such a perv,” you shoved him, giggling.

You started dusting off the tables while Dean mopped the floor, humming Metallica. Climbing the ladder, you started on the bookshelves. You heard light steps coming from the hallway.

“Hey Jack,” you beamed.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Do you wanna help, kiddo?” Dean asked and Jack nodded. “Great, how about you finish what I’m doing here while I get the kitchen done?”

Jack smiled, taking the mop from Dean’s hand. He really enjoyed helping. He wanted to be helpful.

“Oh, and Jack?” Dean called before heading to the kitchen. “Focus on what you’re doing, okay? Eyes on the floor.”

You snorted a laugh. Jack stared back at him confused before starting to mop the floor. Both of you were mostly quiet, focused on getting the work done. In no time you and Jack finished cleaning the library.

“We did a great job,” you high-fived him.

“Y/N?” he frowned, eyes scanning you up and down. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Jack,” your lips curled into a smile. “You don’t have to worry. That witch-“

“No, it’s not that,” he interrupted you. “There’s something different with you. Your aura... it’s not the same. It might be your grace or something.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you look different,” he pointed out. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m feeling fine, Jack. Thank you,” you assured him. “When Cas gets back we can ask him if everything’s okay, right?” He nodded. “Right. If you still want to help, you could pick out the trash while I start on the war room.”

You started by dusting the map table, bending over it. A pair of hands rested on your hips. Dean leaned over your body, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

“Hmm, you look so hot,” he mumbled against your skin.

“Dean,” you tried to repress a moan. “Jack is in the other room.”

“We’re not doing anything,” his body molded against yours.

“You really are unstoppable today, huh?”

“What can I say?” he pulled away. “I’ve got a super hot girlfriend.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Dean picked the mop in the library and started to wipe the floor. You worked in silence. The only thing echoing through the bunker was the sound of Led Zeppelin. By the time you and Dean finished with the war room, you were both sweating.

“Man, good thing we don’t have any kids running around in here,” he sighed. “Or we’d never get it done.”

“Do you want that?”

“What?” he played dumb.

“Kids,” you said, dropping the duster on the table. “Do you want to have kids running around in the bunker? Kids of your own.”

“Y/N, where’s this coming from?” he stepped closer to you. His green eyes stared under furrowed brows.

“We rarely talk about this. About our future,” you sighed. “We never talked about what we want. About what we can have and what we can’t.”

“I know you can’t have kids, Y/N,” said Dean. “I don’t care about that.”

“Dean, I shouldn’t be holding you back.”

“You’re not. I promise,” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Do I want kids? Yeah. But I want to be with you. Kids or no kids.”

“You deserve to have a family. You-“ tears welled in your eyes.

“I have a family,” he smiled, his lips pressing to your forehead. “Don’t overthink this. The only thing that really matters is that we’re together.”

His lips captured yours into a passionate kiss. Dean held you close to him. He put all his love into that kiss.

“There’s something you should know,” you said when you pulled apart, biting your lower lip. Your eyes didn’t meet his, suddenly finding the floor more interesting. “Jack said there’s something different about me. He doesn’t know what it is, but according to him my aura is not the same. He said it might be my grace or something.”

“Jack, come over here,” Dean called, his eyes not leaving you.

“Did something happen?”

“No, Jack,” you shook your head. “Everything is okay.”

“Jack, what’s going on with Y/N?” asked Dean.

“I don’t know,” he frowned. “I’ve never seen anything like this. I think Cas might know what it is.”

Dean nodded.

“We’ll wait for him then.”

You, Dean, Jack, and eventually Sam finished the bunker. Everything was shining. If you wanted to, you’d be able to eat on the floor. You and Dean headed to your shared bedroom and spent the rest of the evening laying in bed, enjoying each other’s company whilst waiting for Castiel.

“Do you think it’s something bad?” you asked, fingers tracing patterns in his naked chest.

“I hope not, but I’m worried. Especially because we don’t know what that witch did to you.”

“I’m worried too,” Dean’s hold on you tightened as the words left your lips.

“Everything’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

Three soft knocks on the door were heard before the person behind it opened. Sam’s head peaked inside. His lips curled into a smile.

“Cas is here,” he said.

“Thanks, Sammy,” you smiled. “We’ll be right out.”

He nodded and closed the door. You drew in a deep breath before standing up. Dean doing the same. He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers before exiting the room. You headed to the war room. Sam, Jack, and Castiel sat across the map table.

“Y/N,” Castiel frowned as his blue eyes landed on you.

“Hey,” you smiled. “Cas, Jack said-“

“You’re pregnant,” said Castiel.

“She’s what?” Dean frowned with a tilt of his head.

“What? No, Cas,” you scoffed. “I can’t. But we still don’t know what’s going on and we figured you might know.”

“Y/N, you’re pregnant.”

“How? That’s not possible. Cas, we angels can’t have children.”

“Lucifer had,” Sam stepped in.

“Yeah, but his vessel was alive. Mine isn’t.”

“Maybe the spell the witch threw on you has something to do with it,” Dean said.

“Cas, are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Kelly looked just like that when she was pregnant with Jack.”

You were astonished. You couldn’t believe Castiel’s words. That was impossible. Even for you. Things like this don’t happen to you. An angel pregnant? That probably never happened.

“Y/N, that’s great,” Jack approached you with open arms and a smile, ready to hug and congratulate you.

“No,” you shook your head. Your eyes were welling with tears and you ran to your room.

“Y/N,” Dean called, ready to go after you, but Sam grabbed his arm.

“This is too much to process, man,” he said. “She needs a minute alone to wrap her mind around what’s happening.”

Dean waited for what seemed to be forever to go after you. He didn’t want to give you space. He wanted to comfort you, to talk to you, but he knew Sam was right. So he waited. Dean grabbed a beer from the fridge and listened to what Castiel had to say about what was going on. It was possible this only happened because of the witch. You and Dean didn’t use protection. As far as pregnancy wasn’t possible and you were both clean, there was no reason to use it.

“Y/N,” his voice was softer when he opened the door.

Dean’s eyes found you sitting on the bedroom floor by the bed. He stepped in and sat beside you. Your arms held your knees against your chest, your head buried in your forearms. Dean noticed you were shaking and his heart shattered.

“Hey,” he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. “Please, don’t cry.”

“How could we do this?” you stared back at him with red-rimmed eyes. “We were so stupid and now-” “Y/N, no one knew that could happen. We didn’t know,” he cupped your cheeks, his thumb wiping the tears away. “I’d never make you go through something you don’t want to. If Cas is really right and you want to end this, I’ll support you no matter what.”

“But you want this,” you sobbed. “You want a family. I can’t take that away from you.”

“I do want a family,” he nodded. “But I want you to be okay.”

“I failed, Dean. Angels aren’t supposed to be with humans let alone have a child. I’m gonna die, Dean. Just like Kelly did.”

“No, you won’t,” he shook his head, tears welled in his green eyes. “Cas said this probably isn’t going to be like Kelly’s pregnancy. She was carrying the child of an archangel. It was too much for her. You’re an angel carrying the baby of a human.”

“But it’s still a nephilim. It can kill me. If the angels don’t kill me, I’m gonna die in childbirth.”

“Cas said there’s a difference between an archangel’s child and an angel’s child. He’s seen it happened before and the woman survived.”

“Say we get through this pregnancy,” you started. “You know we won’t have a baby. We’ll have a teenager with seconds of life.”

“We don’t know that. Maybe ours will grow up slowly.”

“I’m afraid, Dean,” you sobbed once again.

“You don’t have to. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you,” he assured you, engulfing you in his arms. “This is a miracle, Y/N. This is our chance to start our own family.”

Feedback is always appreciated! You can tell me what you think of this one via reply, reblog or ask!

Dean Sweethearts

@maya-craziness @akshi8278 @herfalsegod

[infernodean]

Take Me To Heaven

Sam clutches Dean's body as it grows cold. Waves of sobs twist and contort his face. He stands there hoping if he holds on long enough he’ll hear his brother's breath again, but it never comes. The next sound he hears is the flap of wings and the rustle of fabric.

Instinctively, Sam reaches for his knife as he whips his head around, still supporting Dean with his other half. Standing there, he sees Castiel. Sams eyes and mouth open wide.

“Save him” Sam hears himself say first. “Save him Cas, please.” His voice shakes as his vision blurs with tears.

“I … I can’t.” Cas almost coughs out, taking a few steps forward. Sam sees tears in Cas’ eyes.

“What do you mean you can’t, Cas. Why the hell are you here? I’m begging you, you can’t do this to me.” Sam feels the anger biting at his throat. “Why did you even come back.”

“I’m not here to heal him. I’m here to take him.” Cas says, low and soft. “I’m taking him to heaven”

“What?” Sam twists his face. “But. I can’t … Cas, I can’t.” He says looking back at his brother's face. Cas follows his gaze.

“You can Sam. He said it himself. You can. You are strong, you have survived so much and come out the other side kinder and wiser. I wish … I wish he had more time here, but we don’t always get what we deserve.”

“Cas, what am I supposed to do,” Sam says as his head drops, finally letting the knife drop out of his hands.

“First, Let me help you,” Cas says as he walks forward and puts a hand on Dean's shoulder. He takes a moment for himself to look at Dean but he can’t look too long before more tears threaten to fall.

Sam and Cas take Dean's body under the arms and by the shoulders and pull him gently off the rebar nail. Blood pours out Dean's back. The slick smell of iron is strong as they lay his body on the ground.

“Sam. I am truly sorry. Neither of you deserved this end. Jack … he doesn’t want to chance fate. Not like Chuck did. He played with our lives and we all know how that ended. What I can tell you is that he’ll be with everyone you have lost. I know it seems dismal and hopeless but … his hope continues with you. Making the most of your life.” Cas says. He places a hand on Sam's shoulder. “I will always be there for you Sam. For anything. Just, send a prayer and I will be here.”

Sam looks to Cas.

“Thank you, Cas. For everything.” Sam says as they both stand.

“Of course. Anything for the Winchesters.” Cas pauses as he steps around to pull Sam into a hug. He pulls back and looks at Dean's body. “I have to go now, his soul is waiting.” Sam smiled weakly at Cas as he hears the flutter of wings. Sam looks down and lets his tears fall for a few moments before going to the car to start building a funeral pyre.

————

Dean blinks his eyes adjusting to a bright white-blue light. His vision clears and he sees the barn he was just in. Weird. He thinks. His vision falls down and he sees his own body, cold, lifeless. If he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck, they’d be standing up.

“Hello, Dean.” He hears the familiar gruff voice behind him. He turns and sees Cas. Smiling but sad. Dean stands there frozen. He stutters.

“Cas … how … I …”

“Jack. He pulled me out. It was the first thing he did when he left you and Sam. He was very persuasive to the empty. Angels will no longer go there when we die. We’ll become cosmic energy and return to Jack. Sort of a … circle of life.” Dean nods his head. Circle of life. He glances down at his corpse.

“I’m … dead.” The word rolls off his tongue like a razor blade.

“Yes, and too soon I might add. If I’d have known you’d die this soon I wouldn’t have …” Cas trails off as he looks down to his feet. A weak smile lingers there.

Dean’s brow furrows as he shakes his head.

“I still don’t … Why are you here?” Dean says, taking a tentative step closer. Seeing Cas’ face again, after what happened the last time he saw it. It’s like seeing the sunrise for the first time after a long winter.

“I’m taking your soul to heaven,” Cas says.

“But … you’re not a reaper,” Dean replies.

“Jack let this one slide. Who takes you to heaven doesn’t matter, just that you get there. I’ll be taking Sam and Claire too when their time comes. Which thankfully won’t be for some time.”

Silence crawls across them. They stare into each other's eyes.

“Cas, I… ” Dean starts but is cut off.

“I don’t think I have to remind you what happens when a soul stays on earth for too long,” Cas says as he closes the distance between them and places a hand on Dean's shoulder. He looks past Dean and Dean follows his gaze.

Sam returns to the barn, bundles of fabric in hand. He stops for a moment in front of Dean's body. He kneels next to Dean and places a hand on his shoulder. Dean and Cas see Sam's back heave and shutter as tears drop onto Dean's blood-soaked jacket.

“He’ll be ok, Dean.”

“Yeah,” Dean sighs with a small smile, “I know.” He turns back to face Cas. “Let’s go.”

————

Dean blinks again, this time the light is warm and covers his whole body. The first thing he sees is the Harvelle roadhouse. The next thing he sees is Bobby and a few seconds later, Ellen, Jo, Ash, Charlie, Pamela, Missouri and so many others all inside waiting for him.

“They’re all here.” Dean hears Cas’ voice next to him.

Dean looks at him, sun shining on his face. He notices the way his eyelids droop and the way his lips spread across his face. His throat runs dry as Cas’ last words to him before the empty took him, play in his head. Cas starts to walk forward but Dean puts out a hand, grabs Cas' trench, and swings his arm back. Cas stops in his tracks and faces Dean.

“Cas. I gotta tell you something … and don’t say I don’t have to.” He says putting his hands up in front of him. “What you said, before the empty ...”

Cas’ eyes widen. He shoves his hands in his coat pockets and looks away from Dean.

“Dean, I understand if you don't …” Cas pauses “I know I’m not human and it’s not the same.”

“Cas, shut up,” Dean says. He looks down and feels his face growing redder. Cas’ brow furrows. Dean raises his head to meet Cas’ gaze. “Seriously. Look I know I haven’t always been an open book. I know I haven’t always been good to you. But you, Cas? You’ve always been there through the good shit and the bad. And there was a whole lotta bad. The point is, I … I don’t know where I’d be without you. You changed me, Cas.” Dean's voice was shaking. He lets his arms hang at his sides, putting all energy into his words, putting everything into his words. “I … I love you, too, Cas, of course, I do. I’m sorry it took me this long to say it.”

The two stand now a foot apart, staring into each other's eyes. They've been this close before, hundreds of times, but this time, Dean finally leans in those extra few inches and their lips finally meet. It's awkward, they’re awkward at first but it only takes a few seconds for them to find their footing and kiss like they've been waiting a lifetime to do it. Dean finds purchase with his hands twisting in Cas’ trench while Cas’ hands slowly raise to the front of Dean's jacket. They pull apart still holding each other and rest their foreheads together. Dean grins.

“I'm not the only one who sucks at timing though, you gotta admit Cas” Dean chuckles as he sees Cas’ brow furrowed.

“At least I didn't wait until after I died,” Castiel replied, the soft annoyance prickling in his voice.

“Hey, it's called growth, man. I’m learning.” Dean said leaning in for another kiss. Before their lips can meet they are interrupted by a cheer from the roadhouse. Everyone inside is glued to the windows as they cheer and yell towards the two men.

Dean and Cas look at their family and back at each other. They both let out a laugh. Dean looks at all of them again, scanning the crowd. He knows Sam isn’t there. The only thing missing now.

“How long until he’s here,” Dean says.

“Not too long. Time passes differently here. It’ll be a few weeks. Until then, you should try to enjoy it here.” Cas says as he puts a hand on the small of Dean's back and starts walking him forward.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Dean says grinning as he swings his arm around Cas’ shoulders. The pair walk into the roadhouse and the place erupts into booze, laughing, and singing.

—

The day finally comes. They’re sitting in their kitchen, in the home Cas built for them. A small 2 bedroom cabin nestled in the woods behind the Harvelles. Dean washes some dishes as Cas stands up from his seat. He says it as softly as he can.

“I’m … I’m going to get Sam today Dean.”

Dean's head pops up. He turns around with a grin.

“That’s great. I mean.” He pauses forgetting that this is heaven. It means Sam is dying right now. “How old is he anyway?”

“87. He lived a long life, he married Eileen and had children. I’m sure he can tell you about it. We should … go for a drive.” Cas says looking outside. It’s been weeks since Dean has seen the old impala. For the most part, they didn’t really need a car here in heaven. Dean hadn’t forgotten about her but he was … busy.

“No way.” Dean smiles and runs to the front door. Cas follows behind. Dean makes it outside to the front door. The two men slide into the front seat. Dean sighs and adjusts the mirrors. He turns the key in the engine and it rumbles to life. Dean leans his head back and settles into the seat. He looks over to Cas who smiles back at him.

Some days when he looks at Cas; he swears he can see his wings or some glowing blue parts of his true form. He sees the wrinkled vessel that Cas stitched back together all those years ago. He sees the bright blue eyes and the windswept hair. Above all, when Dean looks at Cas, he sees love. He sees sacrifice, loyalty, pride. He sees the man who risked it all for him, over and over and over again.

“Have I told you today, that I love you?” Dean murmurs, as he reaches his hand over to Cas’. Cas smiles and lets out a chuckle.

“I don’t believe you have,” Cas says taking Dean's hand and stroking his thumb along the back. Cas looks out the window. “It’s almost time”.

Dean looks ahead and puts the gear into drive. He smiles as he presses the gas.

“Let’s bring my baby brother home,” Dean says as they take off down the road.

[purplebass]

Epilogue // Kell and Lila

This is the epilogue of this series of one shots set in the Shades of Magic universe post A Conjuring of Light. I hope that who read these fics enjoyed them as much as I loved writing them.

Couple: Kell Maresh and Lila Bard, Kelila Fandom: Shades of Magic Rating: T+ Tw: mentions of blood

To recover the previous one shots:

Ch 1:  JADE ;  Ch 2:  VELVET ; Ch 3: ANCHOR ; Ch 4: THUNDER ; Ch 5: FEAST

The small velvet bag sat heavy in Kell’s coat pocket as he and Alucard walked back to the palace. Neither of them uttered a word for the whole time, and Kell was grateful. He didn’t like spending time with the ex-captain, but his brother, his king, had requested him to. It was just for the day, and Kell had obliged even though he didn’t want to.

It was a few months after the royal event, and he had been able to give Lila most of the things he had prepared for her as a gift. The jade knife. The velvet red dress. The vessel. There was no reason behind them. Lila was a thief, who had been able to steal his heart, and he wanted to shower her with the affection she deserved. He was aware that she did not care how many knives or ships he’d give her. At the end of the day, she stayed because she wanted to be there with him. This didn’t mean that he couldn’t go out of his way to give her what she may love.

There was only one thing missing from the list of gifts. It lay in the velvet bag in his pocket. Kell had wanted to give it to her the night of the event, on her ship. But then they got carried away by eagerness, by passion. Lila had been scared because of thunder. He had thought he could distract her by unveiling what was inside of that damn bag, since she had already seen it, but he didn’t.

“You still thinking about that guy at the market?” Alucard asked him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“What? No, not at all,” he was quick to answer. “And why do you care?”

Alucard snorted. “I was just trying to be civil. You seemed lost in thought.”

“And you noticed that? Good for you.”

They had just entered the main hall of the palace, which meant that they would part soon. Kell couldn’t wait and quickened his pace, leaving Alucard behind. He could not wait to get back to his bedroom. He had made up his mind in that short walk. Tonight, he would give Lila the contents of the velvet bag, come hell or high water, hoping that he wouldn’t scare her. Turned out that their room was empty, Kell decided to go look for her in another place. The basin was where he would usually find her whenever she didn’t have things to attend to, so he went there. She loved to practice her magic in that room, with or without him. Kell found the door of the basin slightly ajar, and he entered, expecting to find someone there, even if they weren’t Lila. But there was no one at first glance, until he looked at the ground.

“Lila,” he hurried to her, checking her breathing first. She lay there, curled up on the hard and cold floor of the basin, one hand limping on her side while another clutching her abdomen. He hadn’t noticed the blood on her skin. She had probably fainted, hurt herself… he didn’t know. He just knew there was one thing he could do to help her. He cut his hand with a knife nearby, the jade knife he had given her, and then uttered the only words that would be helpful in that moment.

“As Hasari,” Kell said, cupping Lila’s cheek in his hand. The words echoed in the chamber, and a pang of pain shook his body. But he didn’t care. He had sworn to use his magic when necessary because it brought him suffering, and this was necessary. “Please, wake up. Please don’t die,” he whispered to her unmoving body, knowing that magic took time to work.

Lila eventually woke up, startled. “Kell,” she said with a small voice, “what are you doing here? I thought-“

But she couldn’t finish her sentence, because Kell hugged her body to his. He caressed the back of her hair, and the air returned in his lungs. “Lila,” he murmured. “You’re okay.”

“Am I?” she asked with concern. “I feel like someone stomped on me, to be honest.”

Kell broke the embrace. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I think I was playing with a knife, then I lost balance and cut myself,” she revealed gingerly, as if it was nothing much.

He grabbed her hand and saw that there was a cut that was slowly healing. “You were clutching your stomach when I came. Are you hurt there too?” he wondered softly, but Lila shook her head.

“Now I remember,” she said. “It is my stomach’s fault indeed. It hurt while I played, but I ignored it. Maybe I shouldn’t have,” she bit her lip and sighed. “But I’m okay, Kell. Really. Do not worry about me for nothing.”

Kell rolled his eyes. “I found you passed out on the floor, and you tell me this is nothing?”

“It is nothing,” she insisted, meanwhile tried to get up and failed.

“Let me carry you to bed, at least,” he proposed, then he hoisted her up from the stone floor of the chamber and adjusted her body in his arms. Their eyes met for a second. Lila managed a smile and gave up. She rested her head on his shoulder and used his neck as leverage so she wouldn’t fall.

***

Kell insisted that a doctor should examine Lila. He had surely healed any wounds she may have sustained with his magic, but there were other things that magic wasn’t able to mend. What happened that afternoon made him realize even more that life was short. He couldn’t waste any more time hiding that velvet bag in his coat. He would give the contents to her after dinner, after the doctor had declared his verdict. But he would.

He paced the hallway outside of their bedroom, unable to sit or to wait patiently for the examination to be over. The doctor had been there for half an hour already, and Kell was getting restless. What if his magic hadn’t been enough? What if… The door opened, and the royal doctor exited the room. He was grinning, Kell noticed. He frowned. “Is everything okay?” he wondered with concern.

“It is more than okay, master Kell. You can go in,” the doctor said, then he left him alone.

Kell entered the room and closed the door behind him. Lila was in her night clothes, sitting on her side of the bed, two pillows behind her head. She wasn’t looking at the door. On the other hand, she was lost in her thoughts. He believed that she might not have heard him getting in, but when he reached her, she turned to face him.

“The doctor said you’re more than fine,” he said, taking one of her hands in his. “He seemed happy.”

“He may have told me a joke or two,” she replied with a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She gazed up at him, and he saw that her brown eye was red.

He didn’t tell her, though. He wasn’t sure if she had cried because of the laughs or because of other things. “Well, tell me. I wanna laugh too,” he requested.

“He said I need to be careful.”

“This is not a joke, Lila. It’s basic human survival,” Kell said, frowning.

“And now I have to survive for two.”

“What, what does it mean?”

He felt her hand tighten in his grip. “I’m carrying a child, Kell.”

Kell was sure that his face contorted in different ways before settling his features into a wide smile. “This is the best joke I’ve ever heard that it’s not a joke,” he confessed.

“You wanted it to be a joke?” she murmured cautiously, as if she was daring to ask something, she didn’t want to hear the reply to.

“Absolutely not.”

“Are you happy?”

He nodded. “Are you?”

“I’d never thought I’d say this, but yes,” she bit her lip. “But I’m also scared,” she admitted.

“Then you are alright,” he commented, grinning. “Damn, I don’t know if this is the right moment for this, but I don’t care.”

Lila watched him with a frown, not understanding what he was talking about, as he dug his hand in his pocket and finally took the velvet bag out. Recognition lit her face at once. “I remember that,” she said, but Kell ignored her and took the content of the small thing out. It glinted under the light of the candles that lit the bedroom. “Is that a…”

Kell took Lila’s hand again. “I’ve waited months to give you this, thinking it was not the right time. But I can’t wait anymore. Not after today. Not after what you’ve just told me.”

“Yes,” she replied before he could add more.

“What?”

“I said yes, Kell. Should we call the doctor back? You may have a hearing problem.”

Kell tilted his head and smirked, then slid the silver band on her fourth finger and kissed her hand. But it wasn’t enough for Lila, who dragged him to her so she could kiss him properly on the mouth. Once it was over, they stayed for a while like that, their foreheads touching, and their hands latched together. Then Kell changed into his night clothes too, joined her on the bed, and they fell asleep along with their unborn child. And the world felt finally right.

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Villainous

A/n: This is a commission that spiraled out of control, omg, there’s so much angst and backstory I hope anyone reads this oof

Summary: It infuriates Yoongi, that the hero has something he doesn’t, and he takes it for himself, planning to use you for bait…but he hadn’t counted on how you’d affect him.

Warnings: oh boy, a lot of angst, abandoned boys, a little violence, some involuntary manslaughter (don’t judge listen I love my ragtag villain boys), mention of some emotional abuse, mention of sexual abuse (in a backstory), there’s just a lot going on here, I have 545 ideas for one shots in this universe

Word Count: 4586

He finds out that you're his arch nemesis's new squeeze by accident.

It wasn't as if any of his crew remembered you, he'd made sure of that before he'd gone to prison.

It was the new kid, Jungkook who'd told him, almost as an afterthought. "Shin has a new girl."

Yoongi had been playing cards with Seokjin, appearing to barely listen, but he's hyperfocused, tuning in on everyone's thoughts..

"In his crew?" He asks finally, discarding the 2 of clubs.

"I must be crazy, playing rummy with a mind bender," Seokjin mutters in a disgusted tone.

Yoongi's mouth turns at one corner. "Sometime today, Jeon." He snaps.

"N-no." The kid stutters. "His girl."

Yoongi snorts. "Poor soul."

He's only half paying attention, but then a pair of familiar doe eyes flash through Jungkook's mind, and Yoongi falters, dropping the wrong card in the discard pile.

"Yes!" Seokjin crows, picking it up. Then he narrows his eyes. "Are you letting me win?"

"Shut up," Yoongi mumbles, rubbing at his temples.

He'd been in prison less than six weeks. Less than six weeks, and already….

"Her name is Y/n," Jungkook continues dreamily, and Yoongi barks out a bitter laugh.

It wasn't surprising, how much of you Jungkook had taken in on his short scouting trip. The kid had always had a little crush on you, ever since the first day he joined the crew, when you'd been in the kitchen, and looked back at him over his shoulder.

"You like grilled cheese, kid?" You'd asked, and that'd been it, Jungkook had stars in his eyes every time he looked at you.

Yoongi had thought it was cute, then, but now, it makes his chest tight, makes his stomach roll, how Jungkook is thinking of the outer swell of your breast, your hair bouncing against your throat, and when Jungkook thinks of Shin's big forearm around your waist, Yoongi tosses his cards down on the table.

"Aish!' Seokjin protests, but Yoongi stands, nearly knocking over the chair, and Seokjin clams up.

Jungkook is almost wringing his hands, and Yoongi knows he's worried he's done something wrong, can see it in his thoughts, so he puts a hand on the kid's shoulder.

"New plan. Bring her to me."

***

Jungkook does what he's told. And fast. Of course, that's what he does, he's fast and eager and he'd run the 55 miles from Busan to Daegu in fifteen minutes when he was 14, away from home over some stupid fight with his dad. He'd been too scared and lost to find his way home and Yoongi and Taehyung had found him sniffling in the back alley behind the abandoned building they'd been living in.

It's sad to think about how Jungkook could've just called home, how his parents might have understood and accepted him, but it's not like they don't all have sad stories, Yoongi's crew.

Yoongi had met Taehyung first, in the psych ward when Yoongi had been 10 and Taehyung 8 and he'd been all big eyes and snotty nose, asking Yoongi a hundred questions, holding his hand tight when he realized he could, realized Yoongi could suppress that part of his brain that triggered his super strength. The part of his brain that had let him crush his baby sister when he'd hugged her, when his parents had let them hold her after she came home from the hospital.

Taehyung had never been more than a hundred feet from him ever since, even when Yoongi told him why he was in the psych ward, because he'd written a poem for a girl he liked in school and when she'd laughed in his face he got so mad and humiliated he wished she were dead and then ...she was, from a brain aneurysm, seizing on the floor in front of him.

He'd stopped talking for two years.

They met Jungkook by accident, and when the three of them got raided by Shin and the few boys he'd recruited, when their girl with the banshee powers burst out every window in the building they'd been living in and their invisible boy had stolen all their food and money, Yoongi decided to start his own crew.

Seokjin had been next, in a juvenile detention center because that's where they all ended up, eventually. He was in for arson but the papers said the dorm containing Seokjin, his girlfriend, and his best friend had burnt to ashes, almost like it had been napalmed, with Seokjin escaping without a single burn.

When Jungkook zipped Taehyung and Yoongi inside, the tall, broad shouldered boy had been in a steel room with smoke boiling from under the door.

Luckily, Yoongi knew what part of the brain to suppress and Taehyung could bust the hinges on that steel door and Jungkook was quick enough to whisk them all out of there.

Turns out that girlfriend had been fucking his best friend and Yoongi thought they kind of deserved it, anyway, but it still took months to talk Seokjin into using his powers again.

Then Jungkook told him about this boy he'd met in Busan who he swore had changed his eye and hair color in an instant when they had gotten caught shoplifting.

His name was Jimin and when they found him he'd been on the streets and instead of a boy he'd shifted into a girl, specifically his foster father's dead daughter so that he wouldn't hit him so much. But when he'd come into his bedroom late at night, Jimin had stabbed him in the jugular with a ballpoint pen.

Jimin had been the slowest to trust them but they'd gave him a bed and no one tried to touch him and it was the closest thing he'd ever been offered to home.

Then Hoseok, who'd come right to their door, wearing dark sunglasses and barely making eye contact. He'd seen the papers where they'd had a skirmish with the heroes and fancied himself a villain because he'd come into his powers late, killed his fiancee in her wedding dress when he'd been unable to control his joy and beams of electricity shot from his eyes and stopped her heart.

Hoseok had been difficult at first, breaking down when he clipped a security guard while shooting electricity into the keypad lock, but Yoongi had set him straight with a bitter laugh.

"I killed a fucking nine year old just because I thought about it, Hoseok, and you can't take a fucking security guard with a burn on his arm? Fuck you. You get to wear a fucking pair of sunglasses and forget about it, yeah? I get pissed off at one of you for cheating at rummy and have to focus not to burst a blood vessel in your fucking brain. Tae could kill you during fucking flag football. Seokjin could burn this whole place down if he has a fucking bad dream. Get your shit together."

After that, Hoseok kept his mouth shut, did the exercises to stay focused, quit complaining.

Namjoon was the last to join the crew, having been Shin's biggest weapon for years, ever since Shin had found him sleeping on a park bench in the rain, totally dry because he could control the clouds.

After a big battle in which Namjoon had flooded parts of the city, Yoongi spat out something that made Namjoon think twice about his loyalty to Shin.

"You don't have to steal. You don't have to hurt people," Namjoon had said in his even, calm voice, and Yoongi scoffed.

"At least we only hurt people who deserve it. How many innocents do you think drowned in this flood today, Namjoon? How many in that earthquake last month, trapped under the rubble?"

Namjoon couldn't shake the way it made him feel and he'd gone to Shin, who'd just shrugged.

"Gotta break a few eggs to make an omelette, Joonie."

So Namjoon left, came to Yoongi with intel because people aren't fucking eggs and at least Yoongi could help him focus it with his mindbending.

They'd become more brothers than a crew by the time you came around, and everyone was wary at first because you didn't have any powers.

Yoongi understood but he could read your mind, knew there was no ill intent and maybe he was a little naive to think it would all go smoothly, that Shin wouldn't find out and try to use you.

And use you he did, trying to woo you to his side but you, Yoongi's smart girl, you'd used that to your advantage, batted your doe eyes and pretended to be interested.

Yoongi hadn't liked it, not even a little, had been anxious for you and, if he were honest, a little jealous, when he saw in your mind how you'd smiled and cooed at Shin.

But it got them the right intel for the biggest heist they'd done yet, Shin's personal bank, where the so called "heroes" kept all that money they spent on fucking penthouses and caviar or whatever the fuck they ate.

Yoongi doesn't know where it went wrong but he'd heard sirens and called his crew to him, given himself a nosebleed erasing every memory of you so that no one could beat it out of them.

He'll never forget the way you looked at him, eyes wide, forehead pressed to his.

"Don't, Yoongi. Not me. Don't make me forget you, please."

He'd stroked your hair, twirled a curl between his fingers. "I'll make you remember again, doll. I'll make you remember just as soon as things are safe."

"What if things are never safe, Yoongi?"

He'd smiled at you, kissed you soft, not even realizing his nose was bleeding until he saw the blood smearing your mouth.

He'd watched the light of recognition fade from your eyes, and it'd hurt so much more than he'd expected.

It hurts worse, now, with you panting, your curls sweaty and sticking to your forehead, you banging against the glass and glaring at him with absolutely no recognition at all.

You'd been kicking and screaming when Jungkook brought you in and Yoongi hadn't know what else to do but put you in Tae's room.

The creation of Tae's special room had been necessary after an unfortunate incident with one of Shin's girls a couple of months back, a room that was made of the strongest, reinforced glass, like the glass they used to make shark tanks.

Taehyung was standing next to him, biting his nails down to the quick. "Yoongi...what if I need the room while she's in there?"

Yoongi rolls his head on his shoulders, frustrated. "You won't, Tae."

"You don't know that! I might! What if something happens, like it did with…" He trails off, face almost pained, and Yoongi softens.

"I know. I know, Tae. You don't have to say her name." He takes Taehyung's hand where he's worrying at his cuticles and holds it, squeezes it to ground him.

Taehyung sighs and leans into him a bit, and Yoongi feels a wave of affection for his touch starved friend. 

"I'll calm her down, take her to my room if it comes to that, yeah?"

Taehyung nods, squeezes his hand back so gently anyone but Yoongi might not notice.

Yoongi is watching you, watching you sit down in the one metal chair in the room, crossing your arms over your chest and sulking, and suddenly he wants so badly to tell his best friend. Suddenly he wants his advice, wants to talk things out, ask Taehyung what he should do next.

Something pulls in Yoongi to make you remember, look you in your eyes and watch the light and love come back into them, but another part of him, the cunning part, the villain part, knows that you’ll have intel on Shin, deep intel, things he’d never been able to know before. That intel will hurt, like how you know where Shin’s bedroom is and how he sleeps, how he fucks, probably, and he knows that and if you remember, you’ll know that too, and hide it from him in that little part of your mind you’d created when you’d been together, keep your secrets.

And of course it’s Taehyung he wants to ask, sweet Taehyung, his best friend for all these years, but he also knows Taehyung might not react well to remembering...to knowing someone he trusted with his mind for all these years had altered his memories.

In the end, he decides to start small, to reverse the memories for Taehyung and Namjoon together, so that maybe Namjoon’s calming voice can help him understand.

He knows Namjoon will understand, knows Namjoon will understand more than anyone that sometimes you have to do the wrong thing for the right reasons.

Yoongi calls them both into his office and he hates how nervous Taehyung looks, how he’s fidgeting. Namjoon just stands there, hands behind his back, steady, as always.

“I needed you two because I need your advice...and I want to say I’m sorry that I had to erase your memories.”

Namjoon doesn’t react, but Taehyung blinks, startled.

“You...you did what?”

Yoongi sighs and closes his eyes, turns it back on, focusing on that one section of memory he’d boxed up in each of them, and then Namjoon does react, taking in a sharp breath at the rush of memories.

Taehyung sits down hard in the chair opposite Yoongi’s desk, hands tight on the arms of the chair.

“Tae Tae-” Yoongi stands, comes around the desk. Namjoon looks over at Taehyung, alarm evident on his face.

“Don’t,” he says, voice shaking. “Don’t you fucking touch me, Yoongi, you know better, you know you can’t touch me when I’m…”

“Hey, bubs, it’s okay,” Namjoon says, softly, and Taehyung jerks his gaze to the taller man. 

“Don’t tell me it’s fucking okay, Joon. It’s not okay. Don’t you get it? He’s already in our heads, all the time, and I thought...I thought it was to help us but-”

“It is! It is, Tae, I did it so that they couldn’t get information from you, so that-”

That’s when Taehyung breaks the chair, it bursts under his hands like it’s made of popsicle sticks when he stands up.

“I would never give up one of our own! Never! They’d have to fucking kill me first, and you know that!”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Yoongi says, softly, and something in Taehyung’s face softens.

Namjoon makes a mistake puts a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder too soon and Yoongi winces when he hears it pop.

Namjoon cries out, but only for a moment, and Taehyung’s face...it’s a knife in Yoongi’s gut, every time this happens.

Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest, trapping his hands under his armpits, shaking all over, and Yoongi comes toward him, trying to find that switch in Taehyung’s brain to calm him but he’s all over the place and he can’t.

“Joonie, I’m sorry,” Taehyung sobs, fat tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry.” He looks to Yoongi, eyes wild and wet. “I need the room.”

“Tae, you don’t, we just need to calm down-”

“I need the fucking room!” He yells, and Yoongi nods and leads him there without touching him, feeling like shit for all of this, for any of this. God, it’s so fucked up that he’s able to do any of this, that he’s been given this fucking curse…

And then there’s you, there’s you with your chin jutted out defiantly but he knows you’re scared, can read it in your mind how terrified you are, how Shin’s told you over and over what a monster Yoongi is, how he’ll leave you drooling and helpless with no memories and no way to ever make new ones, and he hates Shin and he hates himself when he hauls you out of there into his bedroom, when you fight him and he has to shove you in the bedroom and lean his back against the door, breathing hard.

Turns out Namjoon’s shoulder isn’t broken, just dislocated, and Hoseok pops it back in while Namjoon bites down on his belt and after that it’s just a handmade sling for a few weeks.

Yoongi thanks God for Hoseok’s EMT training prior to joining, and goes to tell Taehyung the good news, but Taehyung isn’t listening.

He's balled up in the corner of the room and humming to himself, and Yoongi is so fucking tired when he comes to his room that you almost barrel right past him.

He catches you by the shoulders and you struggle and he looks you right in the eye.

"Shin told you what I can do, yeah? You know I could paralyze you with a fucking thought. So calm. Down."

You freeze, and he hates the flash of fear in your eyes but he can still see you back behind your eyes, how you're still defying him even as you sit down on the bed, crossing your arms.

"I'm not telling you anything."

Yoongi fights the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. "You don't have to, doll. I can read your mind, you know."

You shake your head. "He taught me how to compartmentalize. Just in case this happened. I can fight you until he gets here."

Yoongi barks out a laugh at that.

"You think he'll come for you?"

Something flashes in your eyes and your lip trembles, just for a second. "H-he loves me."

Yoongi knows that shouldn't make him angry. He knows he did this, that you'd begged him not to and he'd done it anyway but even so blood rushes to his face and he slams his hand down on his nightstand and you flinch.

"Let me tell you something, sweetheart. Shin Junyoung has never loved anything in his whole miserable life except himself. And he never would have had a chance with you if-"

You shake your head, put your hands over your ears. "He loves me and I love him. He loves me and I love him."

You chant it over and over, like a mantra, so much that he can't even read your thoughts and he wants to scream, has to leave the room before he jerks your hands from your ears and makes you remember, breathing hard.

He's fucking mad, he could burst Shin's brain with a single thought right now but there's broken glass in his chest because some part of that was true, he felt it coming off you in waves and every single bit of this was his fault.

He spends the night on the floor next to Taehyung's room with a bottle of bourbon, and wakes up with a pounding headache and Tae knocking on the glass softly.

"I'm ready to come out now," he says hoarsely, eyes red rimmed, and Yoongi's so grateful he feels tears welling in his eyes.

Taehyung cleans up and comes down to breakfast and Namjoon is in the kitchen, pouring coffee with his good arm.

Taehyung takes in a deep breath and leans his head against Namjoon's shoulder, gently.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, brokenly, and Yoongi watches, feeling a wave of affection for his friends, his brothers, when Namjoon flashes a dimpled smile and pats Taehyung on the top of the head.

At breakfast,Yoongi can't eat, feeling like there's rocks in his stomach.

"So, from your drunken ramblings last night, I take it you haven't given her the memories back yet?" Taehyung says, almost casually, popping a slice of bacon into his mouth.

Yoongi shakes his head. "There's so much intel we could get," he mumbles.

"You know if you weren't my best friend, I'd snap you like a twig for saying that."

Yoongi blinks at him, a little shocked.

"I remember everything now, and I know how much she loved you, Yoongi. You're telling me intel on Shin is more important than that?"

Yoongi frowns. "No. No, I just…" he sighs and puts his head on the table. "I just feel like if I don't get something, all of this is for nothing."

"She'd tell you anyway, Yoongi. You know she would."

"Not the good stuff," he mumbles. "Not where he sleeps, or how he sleeps…"

"What, you want her to tell you how he fucks, or…" 

Yoongi lifts his head to glare at his friend, and Taehyung just smiles, lifting an eyebrow.

"Do what you want, bubs, but you're gonna snap and make her remember and it'd be easier if you were calm when you do it."

Taehyung takes his plate to the kitchen and leaves Yoongi alone to think about how the fuck to do any of this.

**

It's not Yoongi but Hoseok who brings you breakfast. In fact, you don't see Yoongi alone for two days.

Shin had told you about all of them, made you read about them, sitting you on his lap with a big binder with blurry photos of them and their powers, their weaknesses.

You never thought much about it, assumed it was for your protection, but the more you're away from him, the more you wonder.

Hoseok's nice to you, has a bright smile when you thank him in a small voice, and were it not for the dark sunglasses and the way he wouldn't meet your eyes, you'd never notice anything out of the ordinary.

The kid, Jungkook, he had been nice too, apologizing over and over for having to hold you tight and restrain you.

It's the shapeshifter, Jimin, or the snake as Shin called him, and Taehyung, the one Shin had said could snap your spine, who bring you lunch.

They sit for a while and talk with you, and you find yourself laughing at something Taehyung said and wondering how this puppy eyed man could be as dangerous as Shin had said.

There's something almost familiar about all of them, and they're all so much more handsome than the blurry pictures had shown, and maybe you felt like you knew them because of how much Shin had forced you to study them but….

Everything was different, here. They all seemed so close, no stiff shoulders and "yes sir, no sir," and even when Yoongi gave an order, they discussed it.

There were times, in that couple of days, when you could have escaped, although you know the kid could catch you easily, or Yoongi could stop your brain from speaking to your muscles, but you don't feel like a prisoner.

You hear arguing amongst them only once, and you think it's the one with the fire, although you don't know why, since you can only hear his voice.

Your ear is pressed up against the door but you can only catch a few words..

"You fucked with our memories? We all-"

Then Yoongi opens the door and you fall forward into his arms, your nose brushing against his.

You can't say why your breath catches in your chest, why his hand smoothing the curls at the back of your head feels so familiar and soothing, but it makes you feel guilty, remembering Shin kissing you goodbye on that last day before he left that you shove him backwards and retreat to the bed.

Yoongi's eyes flash and you think idly that you should be afraid, but you aren't.

"Y/n, I need to tell you something."

This is when it happens. This is when he brainwashes you, this is what Shin had warned you about and he'd told you over and over that if it happened, he'd kill you because you wouldn't be you anymore. Because you wouldn't be his.

You clap your hands over your ears and start the chant again but it's too late, you'd neglected to hide your thoughts and Yoongi climbs onto the bed, taking your hands in his own, glaring at you.

"He said...he said he'd kill you?" His voice is firm but also calm, he isn't raising his voice.

In fact, he hasn't raised his voice to you at all, not like Shin…

You're still spewing out thoughts, you can't help it.

"He yelled at you? Y/n...baby...did he...did he ever hit you?"

Tears are threatening at the backs of your eyes and you shake your head fiercely, trying desperately to stop your thoughts, trying to remember that you love Shin, remembering his eyes and his smile.

Then Yoongi puts his forehead to yours.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice cracking. "I'm so sorry."

You feel something like fingers edging into your mind, and then everything changes.

**

At first, Yoongi is just mad because he's jealous and because he misses you so fucking much, but when he reads your thoughts and you're more afraid of Shin than Yoongi, more afraid of your so called boyfriend than the man you thought kidnapped you, the rage he feels is unbelievable.

If he'd been Seokjin, the whole room would've burst into flames.

But it gives way to sorrow so fast when he sees the tears in your eyes, when he realizes he did this, and he's not even surprised when you remember and burst into tears, pummeling his chest.

"Fuck you, Yoongi! You made me forget! You made me forget you and he-"

He tries to hold you but you push him so hard he almost falls of the bed and eventually he leaves the room, slides down against the door and puts his head in his hands.

He sits there all day, waiting for you, waiting until your thoughts turn from a rolling sea to a calmer lake.

You're sniffling when you open the door and he almost falls backward inside.

"Come and kiss me, you idiot," you say, and your voice is broken and hoarse but it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

Your mouth on his is like coming back home, hands in your curls tight like he'll never let go, and when you murmur his name he feels like his heart will break.

Later, after you're lying with your head on his chest, you tell him everything, even the things he doesn't want to hear, even the things that make his chest ache and his stomach roll and he knows part of you thinks he deserves it for making you forget.

He does, after all, he does deserve it but when he covers his face with his hands after you tell him about the first night Shin got you into his bed, you roll on top of him and move them away, kiss his eyelids where he’s got them screwed shut and his pouty mouth.

“You did this for a reason, yeah? You didn’t want me hurt but you also needed the intel, and I’m giving it to you.”

He’s still pouting when he opens his eyes, but a smile tugs up the corner of his mouth. “You got my intel, all right, my tough girl.”

You smile back at him. “Damn straight, I did. I got everything you need to take him down, and how I did it doesn’t matter, right?”

He nods, smile fading a bit, and then you kiss him again.

“I love you. Even when I thought I loved him, I loved you. You can read my mind to see that’s true.” You say, staring down into his eyes fiercely.

Yoongi searches your face and then smiles. 

“I don’t have to,” he says, and he kisses you over and over until there’s no trace of Shin in your mind at all.

[moonflower-31]

Nightmares - Gabriel x Reader

No warnings, just keep in mind that I have not seen season 13 yet, so this is just my interpretation of Loki.

And also know, that this is based off the Norse Myths.

Characters: Gabriel and Loki, Dean and Sam (mentioned)

You couldn't sleep for the life of you. You tossed and you turned, you moaned and you groaned, but you couldn't get to sleep. The previous hunt had messed you up. The creature had decided that killing small children was it's favorite pass time. It was a shifter. It shifted into the children's parents before they would go and kill the poor kid. It just didn't sit right with you. Not to mention Gabriel had disappeared soon after they had finished the hunt, not leaving you any sort of explanation or mental note that he often sent you. That was the perk of having a pervy, mind reading archangel as a boyfriend.

To top it all off, your head was pounding, and you couldn't find relief in any of the painkillers or the semi-cold pillow you tried to cool your head off with.

You had curled up in your bed with Gabriel's red shirt on your frame, trying to focus on something other than your pounding skull and your sudden inability to sleep.

You climbed out of bed and yawned, stretching your limbs as you wandered to the nearest bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would help.

You climbed out of Gabriel's shirt for a moment and then began running the water, deciding last minute to turn the shower into a hot bath.

You couldn't help but worry about the archangel. He never usually played pranks on you. And when he did, it was never about making you think he had gotten hurt. Which at the current moment, wasn't far off from where your head was at.

You shook your head and stepped into the bathtub, sinking down into the water and closing your eyes. No sounds. No distractions. Just you, alone with your thoughts. How dangerous.

For being a hunter, the last hunt messed you up more than it should have. But who could blame you? Demons had possessed your parents and had tried to kill you, so the hunt had struck a nerve within you. Gabriel was the only one who knew about your past. Other than the Winchesters, obviously. They were the ones who exorcise your possessed parents, and offered you to come on the road with them when they ended up not surviving the exorcism. It had been the best decision of your life.

Gabriel met you soon after, being in hiding, of course. He was the janitor at Crawford Hall, and you had instantly felt something off about him. That he couldn't just be a trickster. Sam and Dean hadn't listened to you. Turns out, you had been right.

Gabriel had taken a liking to you from the very beginning. He liked flirting with you, making you blush, annoying the Winchesters with how obnoxious it often got.

At first, you didn't know how to react, and got flustered really easily. But over time, whenever the trickster and archangel was around, you grew to expect it. And a crush began forming around the flirting and the banter that began between you two.

A smile formed on your lips as you recalled how you had met the archangel, and how he had attached himself to you and your life ever since. Even when you took a small road trip away from the brothers when you had found out you still had family, Gabriel had managed to tag along.

The warm water gently moved over your bare body, slowly lulling you to a long awaited sleep.

When you opened your eyes inside your dream, everything was dark. The trees, the sky, even the sun. It was like someone had turned the contrast up on the world.

You wandered around the dreamscape, seeing nothing lifelike. The trees were barren, and the grass was pale. A harsh wind bustled by your ear and sent a roaring sound pounding through your head. Then the sound started to turn from incoherent roaring to... speech.

It sounded like someone crying for help. Someone familiar. But you couldn't figure out who.

So what do you do? You turn around, and walk towards the voice, despite the roaring wind that still persisted and hollered as it passed you.

As you grow nearer, the voice grows louder, and you can almost tell who it is. Its on the tip of your tongue, you could feel it. And then it hits you. Its Gabriel.

You take a few more steps forward before the scene in front of you changes, and you can suddenly see Gabriel.

Gabriel is being held up against a tall rock, being held there by ropes that were... of unidentifiable origins. His arms and legs were bound, and a snake was hoisted above him, venom dripping from it's fangs down towards his face.

Gabriel let out cries of pain as someone stands in front of him, staring him down. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but you knew by Gabriel's reaction, it wasn't good.

You immediately called out Gabriel's name, but he couldn't hear you. You raced forward and tried to rip the ropes off, but they wouldn't budge.

You cried oug in frustration, striking the rock in anger. You rushed to Gabriel's side, and found a bowl on the ground. It was then that you were able to see and hear the other figure, making you freeze when you saw him.

"So you want to be me? Huh? Wanna be in hiding? Well then you gotta take all the perks along with it. You look the part. Now you get all the punishments too." The man sneered, smirking as he stared at Gabriel.

The man looked exactly like Gabriel. All the way to the eyes and the hair. Yet he wore something more Scandinavian than what Gabriel wore. And his pupils were much more slender. It all suddenly hit you. This was Loki. The actual god of mischief that Gabriel had impersonated for his 'Witness Protection'.

Had this actually happened? Had Gabriel dealt with Loki's infamous punishment for killing Baldur?

Your heart ached at the possibility. You looked back up at Gabriel, watching as the venom dripped down and burned his eyes, making him cry out in pain. You immediately picked up the bowl and climb up to the top of the rock, holding the bowl over Gabriel's face, catching the falling venom, even for a second.

"I hope you enjoy all the perks, Feathers. You deserve 'em." Loki sneered, and then looked up. "Huh, maybe you are meant to copy me. You even got yourself a whore to collect the venom for you." Loki jabbed, winking at you. You almost lost your balance, seeing Gabriel below you finally staring up at you with a sad look in his now dull and reforming eyes.

You tried to speak, but nothing came out. Loki stepped forward and gripped your chin, making you squirm. Gabriel let out a growl from below you, making Loki smirk. He said nothing, and merely pressed a meaningless kiss to your lips, and forced your lips against his. It felt wrong. It was nothing like how Gabriel kissed you, despite his lips being the same as Gabriel's. It was lacking in love completely.

Then, suddenly, the bowl in which you had been collecting the venom in, was forcefully tipped over, covering Gabriel in the venom, making you cry out his name, praying over and over that he was okay. Gabriel had immediately let out a loud cry of agony, his limbs and body tensing in pain. Loki laughed maniacally at your terror, and suddenly all of your senses shifted, and you quickly sat up in the bath, having finally woken up from your terrible nightmare.

You skook terribly as you climbed out of the bathtub, draining the now lukewarm water. You wrapped a towel around you and grabbed Gabriel's shirt, carrying it off to your room.

You immediately dropped the towel once your door was closed, and pulled Gabriel's shirt over your head, wrapping your arms around yourself as you whispered a silent prayer to the archangel, just wishing for him to respond. For you to know he was okay and not with some evil, demonic demigod.

Soon a flutter of wings entered your peripheral of audio, and you immediately turned around and hugged the now present archangel.

"Woah! Sugar, I didn't expect a hug from you, especially this early in the morning." He joked, his arms wrapping around you.

You sniffled and pressed your face in the crook of his neck, fighting off the incoming tears.

Gabriel frowned, and began ro rub your back. "Hey... what happened Sugarplum?" He asks, wanting desperately to find out what made you cry, and smite it out of existence.

You sniffled again, and tightened a grip onto his shirt and jacket, not letting go of him. "I...I had a nightmare about you. I had to make sure you were okay..." you admitted through your quivering voice.

Gabriel sighed, squeezing you tighter against him. He kissed the top of your head, and just held you. He lifted you into his arms and carried you to bed, laying you down on the mattress before he climbed in beside you.

"Sugar...whatever it was, its not real. I promise. Im right here, aren't I?" Gabriel asked. You nodded, looking up at your boyfriend, staring into his whiskey colored eyes. He smiled in response. "Then you have no reason to fret. Cause Doctor Sexy is here to make it all better." He teases, booping your nose.

You let out a soft giggle, scrunching up your nose at the contact. Gabriel smiled at you, and looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow as he saw his shirt on you.

"Is that... my shirt?" He asks, laughing a bit at the tail end. You blushed a bit and wrapped your arms around yourself, pouting a bit.

"So what if it is?" You protested. Gabriel let out another laugh at that. His arms tightened around you, kissing your forehead again.

"All the more proof that you're mine." He says, smirking slyly as he held you close. You leaned your head against his chest, humming softly as you heard the soft thumping of his vessel's heart.

"I promise... I'll always be here Sugar. Even when I'm not." He assures, pressing his hand against the side of your head to encourage you to lay against him.

You smiled softly to yourself, and then closed your eyes again. This time, you knew the nightmares would come, but you'd have your archangel there to chase them away.

[thetaurusgeminisystem]

A to Z 30 day Challenge “Hunkle Grunkle edition”

Day #1 – Age

Part 1 of 2

Ford & Winifred

 The early morning hours are no stranger to them because of the harm that comes from the unhealthy circadian rhythm. A rhythm that was forever rendered an anomaly in its self-due to the disease that most people currently knew as insomnia. Of course, neither party dared to acknowledge it, especially without some sort of wake-up juice.

It was an early winter morning aboard the Stan – O – War, a vessel that came from a childhood dream originally. The best part of this whole situation was that after forty odd years of pining after one another they were finally together. From the perspective of an outsider, someone could have guessed that these two had been married for those forty years, that was just how well they knew each other. They were in sync in a way that Stan would joke would be “Weird nerdy BS”.  

Winifred had been the first one out on the deck of the vessel this morning. She had been lying awake in her bunk since about 4:30 am but had not dared to get up because she feared of waking Ford up. Her reasoning for this was because Ford already didn’t get sleep as it was so she knew she would feel guilty for keeping her boyfriend awake over something dumb as a dream. When she tried to just ignore it and go back to sleep by cuddling up close to Ford again, it just wouldn’t leave her alone.

The dream made her begin to think about how much time her and Ford had lost over the thirty years apart, the dream was a replay of the fateful night when she had been dumb enough to try and save McGucket without something to anchor her into their dimension. It made her realize how much the two had grown and changed over the thirty years. The pit of regret being in stomach now because she was too old to bear her beloved any children, a problem that Stan and Raina might not face due to Raina’s strange alien anatomy.

“Fuck I wish I had told him sooner. Maybe our lives would be different.”

She mumbles to herself as she watches the calm ocean waves and other boats that went in and out of the Scottish port that they were currently in. She sat on the edge of deck, her legs dangling over the side and her arms slumped along the railing of the ship. These thoughts were also accompanied by something that happened the other night when she had gone with Raina and the boys to one of pubs. She saw a younger girl that kept trying to flirt with Ford when he went to bar to get them all a drink and it made her heart sink.

“Wouldn’t he be much happier with a younger beauty and not a grumpy old broad like me?”

She mumbled out again under her breath. It made her wonder what she could truly even offer Stanford at this age, she was beyond her prime and too old for much of anything really. She didn’t dare bring these feelings up with anyone because she didn’t want anyone to worry about her, especially not Ford. Ford had enough to worry about daily.

“Alright darling what’s eating you hm?” The familiar deep voice asked drawing her quickly out of her thoughts. Winifred blinked and then looked up to see Stanford standing next to her and holding out a cup of coffee to her.

Winifred took the mug thankfully in her glove covered hands. She decided to try and play dumb with him in the hopes that he would just forget about it. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about Stanford” she answered and then turned her gaze back out to the passing ships in the bay.

She had no such luck because Ford didn’t give up that easily. Though it was something that normally she loved about him, this was not one of those times. “Winifred don’t play dumb with me. I can tell something is wrong. First you aren’t acting like your normal self, you haven’t been since we went to the pub the other night. Second, you only call me Stanford when you’re angry or upset with me. Please darling, tell me what’s wrong” Ford begged and then he gently sat down on the deck of the vessel with her.

Winifred shivered a little as she felt her boyfriend’s comforting embrace wrap itself around her waist. Winifred sighed and then she finally found herself looking over at him. “I-It’s just well…while we were at the pub, I noticed this younger girl talking and basically flirting with you. It made me think that maybe I’m not good enough for you Ford. I can’t give you a kid like Raina can give Stan because I’m too old. I guess it just made wonder if maybe you’d be better off or happier with a girl that’s younger than me beca-“ Winifred was explaining, but was then cut off by Ford gently placing one of his larger fingers on her lips.

He was blushing a little, but he leaned forward and scooped her up into his lap so that now he was holding her. “Are you kidding me? I honestly didn’t realize she was flirting with me, I guess that explains why she was so willing to give me directions to our stake out spot…” Ford started causing Winifred to give him a flat look that looked unamused. “Anyway, what I was trying to say my darling is that even if she was flirting with me, I would have never taken her offer. She might have been younger, but she isn’t wiser or smarter. I love your beautiful mind and those beautiful eyes that look up at me with so much love. Winifred, I don’t care how old you are or even the fact that we may not be able to conceive biological children. I love you for who you are, I always have, and I always will” Ford says softly, one of his larger hands gently coming up to cup her chubby cheek and force her to look up at him.

Winifred sat and listened to him, her heart beginning to stutter a little and her eyes growing misty with unshed tears. “Y-you mean that my love?” She asks him shyly, her voice cracking a little to match her tears that were slipping out.

Ford gently leaned in and planted a meaningful kiss to her forehead and then held her close to him. “Of course, I mean that my darling. You mean the multiverse to me no matter how old you get. You’re my best girl and one of the only ones who can understand me…you’re the first girl who ever loved me back, fingers and all” He says softly and then he sets his mug down and emphasizes the “fingers and all” with the famous Pines family finger wiggle.

Winifred couldn’t help but giggle a little when he wiggled his fingers and then she leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I love you to Ford, you mean the multiverse to me as well you know. Also, if I’m you’re best girl then you’re my best boy, always. You’re the first guy that has truly loved me for all that I am. At least you didn’t want to use me to pass your classes like a jerk” Winifred replies and mentions her first and only ex-boyfriend, Vic.

Ford instinctively pulled her closer to him as she mentioned the jerk that had humiliated her at homecoming in sophomore year. He promised himself that he wouldn’t allow any other man to cause harm to her like that ever again. “He didn’t deserve you. Besides you stole someone’s heart almost instantly from the moment he laid eyes on you” Ford replied and rested his chin on her shoulder.

Winifred smirked and rested her head gently against his. “Oh? I wonder who that is” She joked earning a deep rumbling chuckle from Ford.

Ford gently ran his free hand through her long silver hair, he relished how soft and yet strangely frizzy it felt in his fingers. “Oh, I think you know who he is. He loves you right now and he always will” He says softly, his tone meaningful to let Winifred know he meant it. He hoped that it would comfort her a little and ease her worries.

Winifred smiled warmly up at him now, her tears slowly disappearing with the brisk morning air around them. She gently set her coffee mug right next to his and then she wrapped her arms around his torso in a hug. “You promise?” she asks shyly.

Ford smiles down at her and continues to run his six digits through her flowy silver hair. “I promise my darling” He answers her and then he presses another gentle kiss to her forehead and just holds her close.

Ford found himself now looking out at the other ships that were going in and out of this port while he held her close. Winifred closed her eyes as she allowed the comforting warmth and smell that was her six fingered scientist to begin to lull her off to a relaxing morning stupor, after all, it would be another two hours before Stan and Raina woke up and another three before they had to catch the bus to their stake out sight.

When Ford heard her light snores, he chuckled again and rested his chin atop of her head. “Rest well my dear, I love you” He says softly and then he gazed back at the ocean, his thoughts drifting to the adventures that the two of them had been able to have in their past. Yes, they might be older, but Ford had hope that they would be able to still have adventures more to come in their future.

A/N: Hey there Gravity Falls Fans! So I decided that I wanted to showcase my OC’s for Ford and Stan. I figured one of the best ways to do that was to write some cute one shots based on writing prompts. So here I am with day 1 (though I know it’s a little late) of the A to Z 30 day challenge! I am also releasing a companion short of Stan and Raina for this particular prompt so stay tuned! I hope that you all enjoy! 

You can find the challenge here: https://uhmmmsweetie.tumblr.com/post/172330329580/30-day-otp-alphabet-challenge

It was created by @uhmmmsweetie

[msmkcreates]

Twice a Month I Fall in Love (15/???)

[Back to the Beginning]

Characters: SF!Sans, SF!Papyrus, US!Papyrus, Reader

As always, inspired by @undertaleprompts 💜

---------

“first off, fuck you.”

Mutt chuckled as he closed his bedroom door behind him. Stretch glared at him, arms crossed and practically steaming.

“what? did i come out too soon for us?” Mutt teased, bumping his shoulder as he walked past. “don’t even pretend to be mad. it was the best option for the situation.”

“we?? aren’t dating,” Stretch reminded him. “and you don’t get to make these decisions for me.”

“so, you aren’t mad that i said it, you’re just mad that everyone assumes you bottom?”

Mutt couldn’t help but smirk at Stretch’s slack-jawed, stuttered response. He could be hilariously adorable when he wanted to be, Mutt will admit that.

“you realize that the only reason anyone even thinks we’re interested in each other is because it’s obvious that she likes me, right?” Stretch said finally, scowl lifting just slightly. “how she looks at me, how she interacts with me, the body language she uses around me...we’ve had so much time to learn each other, even if it was--”

“through my body?” He hissed, stepping forward and causing Stretch to flatten against the wall instinctively as Mutt towered over him. “tell me, romeo, what color are her eyes? what color is her hair on a summer day? how long is she able to walk around before her back hurts, or even, what scars does she have and why? maybe i don’t know her the same way you do, but you don’t know her like me, either.”

Stretch stared up at him, and at first Mutt thought it was just the slight height difference that intimidated his double, but it wasn’t hard to pick up...he was blushing, subtly, and trying very hard to look like he wasn’t.

“...oh, that’s hilarious,” Mutt chuckled breathlessly, raising one arm to lean against the wall as he leaned closer. “all that time spent falling for the girl in my body...you can’t help but love my body, too.”

“yeah, right,” Stretch scoffed, putting one arm up defensively to keep him from coming any closer. “you’re seeing things.”

“i’m not the one blushing,” Mutt purred, using his free hand to grab Stretch’s wrist so he could pin him to the wall. “look at you, that tiny little gasp like a good boy...s’no wonder everyone thinks you’re the bitch.”

“get off me,” Stretch grumbled, looking away quickly.

How could he not react? He’d spent the last six months finding all the ways that Mutt could be cute, could be soft, could be...even if it was because you were piloting him, he can’t help but find the vessel attractive when, until yesterday, he hadn’t ever met you naturally.

Mutt dropped him, clacking his teeth to Stretch’s forehead in a mocking kiss before Stretch shoved him off fully, flushed and embarrassed by his body’s reaction. Truthfully, he asked for this when he kissed you in Mutt’s body, so he deserved the teasing.

Still, he hated that he liked it so much.

---------

“You guys couldn’t think of something better than f-fake dating?” You laughed as Black chuckled, sipping his wine. You were on the porch, enjoying the stars and the chilly evening air on the porch swing. “I mean...they couldn’t have just been...been working on a project or something?”

“TO BE FAIR, DARLING, THE WHOLE THING HAPPENED ON ITS OWN BECAUSE YOU WEAR YOUR HEART ON YOUR SLEEVE,” Black accused, leaning over and brushing a stray hair behind you ear, fingers brushing along your jaw to tip your face up. “THOSE EYES OF YOURS, THEY TELL SO MANY STORIES. IN EITHER FORM. HOW DO YOU THINK I ALWAYS KNOW IT’S YOU AND NOT MY BROTHER? AND IF I CAN SEE IT, IS IT NOT NATURAL FOR OTHERS TO PICK UP ON YOUR FEELINGS FOR STRETCH?”

You flushed and broke from his touch, looking down at your hands. “I...was it that obvious?”

“YOU WERE PRACTICALLY UNDRESSING HIM WITH YOUR EYES.”

“Oh, God, I’ve made...I’ve made everything so complicated,” you said nervously, fidgeting with the zipper on your coat. “I’m so s-sorry, Sans...you’ve had to...to deal with so much…”

“KNOCK THAT OFF, YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU AS IF YOU WERE MY OWN SISTER,” Black scoffed, polishing off his wine and pouring another glass. “IT WOULD BE FOOLISH OF ME TO EVER BELIEVE I WOULD BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOU. YOU KEPT ME SANE, GAVE ME SOMETHING WORTH PROTECTING.”

You smiled up at him, and leaned on his shoulder. He automatically wrapped his arm around you, and you wondered how long he’s wanted to do just that--have someone to protect, someone he can love outwardly and bond with without fear.

He squeaked as you squeezed him, hard, making him spill his wine a little as you buried your face in his chest, hoping that your silent intention would communicate what your broken speech could not. All your gratitude, your love...your fear of losing him if all this ends one day.

He chuckled and set his glass on the banister of the porch, adjusting to hold you closer as the swing swayed softly.

“IT’S ALRIGHT, MY DEAR. I’LL NEVER LET YOU GO.”

---------

“Hey, sis, can I stay up in the living room with Papyrus and Blue tonight?” Zack begged, tugging on your arm.

“What? Tonight was supposed to be us pretending to watch a movie while we fall asleep without talking to each other,” you teased, tousling his hair.

“I know,” he giggled, smiling ear to ear. You wondered when that last adult tooth was gonna finally come in--he looked much younger with one of his front teeth missing. “But we’re gonna watch Goosebumps and play board games! And we’re already making the blanket fort!”

“Alright, but don’t go to bed too late, or else I’ll never get you up in the morning,” you relented, giving him a side hug before he ran off to dive into the mass of blankets and chattering voices that had become the living room.

“free night, then?”

You made a surprised noise as Stretch appeared next to you, the first time you’d seen him in hours.

“Oh...uh, yeah,” you said, smiling softly at him.

“...could spend it getting to know me?” He offered, a bit of a tease to his tone as he pulled you into the hallway for a little more privacy. “...there’s still a lot we haven’t had a chance to talk about. and...i’ll still understand if you want to hang out with mutt later, too.”

“I think…” you said, interrupting him a bit. “...a distraction sounds great.”

He smiled, that cute blush and freckles dusting his face, and you could swear his eyelights were shinier than ever. He took your hand gently, leading you slowly down the hall.

“great...i’m good at distractions.”

To Be Continued...

[autumnpawtribe]

Complications Part 8

((TW: Murder, Violence...  Eh just go with all the things.)) Xiao actually chuckled at Aret's words, kissing him gently on the forehead. He spoke in Pandaren, but he translated through the link for Vol. "Aret, do you really think they would not be coming back to Pandaria with us? They are your family... and you are our family. They will be welcome in our home, just as Naddja and Zakin are." He hugged Aret and then offered a warm look to his mother. "Take them outside, Aret. To your apartment. Your family and your daughter need some time together. We will be back when we are done, okay?"

Aret looked up at Vol and Xiao as Vol pulled him to his feet.  "Take our daughter to your apartment.  Get some clean clothes and such for your mother and sister before you go.  Xiao and I will finish this up and meet you there.”  We'll bring something to eat.  Rest, sweetheart, and trust us."  He gave Aret a kiss, smiling as Pahre blushed, but smiled.  "He is well loved, Auntie.  I promise.  Please trust us both."

When Aret left with his mother, Tarja in his arms, Vol turned and grinned brightly around his tusks.  "this is needed...."  With that the big hunter used one of the kicks Xiao had taught him, dropping his heel right onto the man's nose, watching it explode in blood.   "Dat be fer Auntie.."

Xiao watched them leave, making sure they were out of sight before he turned around and- WOW that was a mess of blood that splattered all over. He let out a disbelieving little noise, not out of distaste, but merely surprise. "Someone was in a hurry." He said through the link to Vol. "Do you wish to do the honors since I already have paralyzed them and left them with little pride left? Jansevet is more stubborn but Aket seems quite broken, which I am rather proud of even though I likely should not be."

"Do you blame me..  and my kills were quick, clean and business like.  THIS involves our husband and our daughter.  Personal."  Vol grinned, pulling the hunting knife off of his hip.  "Oh, It's gonna be my pleasure."  Vol became silent and ultimately businesslike as he swatted a few spiders away from the screaming priest.  "Oh Shut yer face, ja gonna be dead in a minute.  Xiao Chun, dey can feel dey faces, right?"

"Not at all, they are monsters. They deserve it." He then watched as Vol pulled out the knife, shaking his head. "They are numb from the neck down. I severed each spinal cord, but they can still feel from the neck up. I am not entirely certain of the cut off, but... somewhere on the neck. Jansevet also soiled himself, so... that is what /that/ smell is."

"Ah smelt raptah shit before... Ja go open da door?"  There was a scratching sound behind the door as Vol knelt down over the priest, smiling as he grabbed an upright tusk in one hand and his forehead in the other.  His words were in Zandali, so he translated for Xiao so nothing was missed.  "This is for my Daughter." He Snapped the left tusk off at the jaw line and set it to the side as Aket Screamed in abject pain.  "This is for my Pandaren husband for making him upset"  Both Tusks were left on the man's chest as their prey screamed in horror and suffering.  He did the same to the old prelate, the same response from snapped off tusks as he spoke.  "This is for my Zandalari husband and torturing him...  And this one is for his mother and sisters, for the same thing."

Xiao nodded and moved to the door, wincing lightly at the sounds of tusks snapping, but he knew it was deserved. He opened the door, expecting to likely find Honor and Valor on the other side if he had to guess.Valor actually licked Xiao's face, finding the spot of blood before He and Honor wandered in.  Vol whistled and both sat, watching the pair of Zandalari that would be their dinner.  Vol let them both lay and scream, rolling his eyes as he found a cooking pot, and lined it with what looked like large palm leaves.  "Xiao, love, can you shut them up?  Annoying as fuck and the old one keeps cursing my balls... so.. Little sick of him." 

Xiao squeaked in surprise at Valor, smiling a bit as he gave the raptors each a friendly little scritchin'. He looked over to Vol and nodded. "Of course. One moment." He went over to touch them and then kind of just... made a whimpering noise and looked to Vol. "Spiders..." He said through the link, trying not to be weak but there were still spiders crawling over each one.

"Nothing to be done about them.  She's upset with them as it is I would bet.  Don't fuck with Shadra."  He found a lid that fit the cooking vessel and put it on the side next to Aket.  He used words in Zandalari, speaking the words softly, but strong enough it was easy to know this was a prayer, ritual.  "Bwonsamdi take you, in peace.  To the Loa of graves I send you.  Death comes for all, mortal and Loa alike.  He is the equality of the world.  No matter your power, status, strength.  We all go to him in the end.  I am a hunter of death, I give you until my Loa this day."

Aket could not stop Vol as the long knife was plunged into his gut above his umbilicus, and pulled up until the blade met bone.  The hunter grunted as he pulled harder, enough to crack the bone.  There were no screams, but the room felt different and a maniacal laugh filled the air.  Vol knew the voice and spoke through the link to Xiao.  "DO NOT look up.."

"Et been a LONG time, Raptahblood..  Took someone wrongin' ya family fer ya ta send me gifts again, hmm?"

"I apologize for my lack of service, Guardian of the Dead.  I hope they make up for it."

"You send me two of Shadra's.. and no contest from her.  Ah be forgivin' ya, man."

Xiao nodded, offering Vol an apologetic glance at not being able to silence them. He just couldn't get himself to touch all of the tiny spiders. When Vol began sliding the blade into the flesh, Xiao looked up and away, off to the side toward the kitchen. What he didn't expect was the laughter. He immediately whipped his head toward the noise as if ready to defend... and then he heard Vol's words. It was too late, he was already laying eyes upon the Loa of Graves himself, going a bit wide eyed. "You... should have told me sooner..." He said through the link nervously.

"Well.. Well.  The Little monk what started this little sacrifice.  If the Raptahblood 'ere hadn't come, YOU were gonna gift me these two, I would bet."  The Loa cackled, looking down at Xiao.  "Take pride in ya work, little man."  The Troll skull-like face looked Xiao in the face, a smile in his words.  "Ya served me maaaany guests in your wars.  You won't deny it, will ya?  Raptahblood!  You finish em, and Ah'll gladly take what you and your little man gave.  Remember, the heart is best stewed..."

With that the Loa disappeared, Vol relaxing immediately as he went back to work.  "Well, he knows you."

Xiao offered a nervous smile as he mentioned his wars, nodding a little. "Many, yes... and I had every intention of giving these two to you, had Vol'raka not come for Aret's mother. You deserve to do with their souls as you will, they are too cruel for this world." 

He said with a hard swallow, hoping he wasn't speaking out of line. When the Loa vanished, Xiao practically slumped, leaning against the wall with a full-body sigh. "Sweet Celestials above, Vol'raka you could have warned me he might make an ACTUAL appearance. You should feel how fast my heart is pounding right now."  He said as he tried to steady himself, his hands lightly shaking.

"Xiao, NO ONE controls Bwonsamdi.  I didn't think He'd show, so why worry you?" 

The troll kept slicing his prey up, having broken Aket's ribcage at that point and looking down at the beating heart.  "Here is where we find out how queasy you get."  

Precise incisions released vessel and sinew as the heart stopped beating and Mala'ket slowly lost the light in his eyes.  Vol cleaned the blade on the priest's robes as he placed the heart in the cook pot.  "He shat himself too, no leg meat, but Im not cooking a roast.  Can you find me a cup.. or something small with a lid?"

Xiao seemed mostly unphased by the heart, still recovering from the LOA OF GRAVES actually fucking showing up. He stood and leaned in to kiss Vol gently on the cheek. "I am more queasy from Bwonsomdi showing up than cutting out a heart. Death is something I try to avoid unless necessary, a Loa? That is much more startling." He said with a nervous chuckle as he began to look through the kitchen for something to match Vol's description. "They really do not smell good..." He murmured to himself mostly. "I should have made them go to the bathroom before I severed their cords."

"Those two don't care.  They'll still eat them.  And how do you think you would have.... managed that?"  Vol smiled, even as his arms were covered in blood and he'd began nonchalantly dismembering the younger male's corpse with a crunch and crack of bone and body.  "They wouldn't have listened... 'hey go squat on the pot before I kill ya'."  The Darkspear chuckled as Jansevet watched in horror as they were so blasé about what they were doing.  He could not talk for the spiders in his mouth and throat, but he was still very aware.  "did you hear my prayer, Xiao.   He is the equality of the world.  Don't fear him.  Respect him."  

Xiao smiled, chuckling now. "Yeah, that... would not have exactly made sense. Still, it is unpleasant." He looked back at them. "I think he is shocked that us 'weaker' races are so capable of talking about these things so easily." He shook his head, leaning down before pointing at Vol. "He serves Bwonsamdi. More importantly? Let me simplify this. The two many your boy loves?" He paused, looking at Vol. "Bounty hunter." He then pointed at himself. "Shado-Pan and war veteran." He dropped his hand and shook his head, speaking toward Jansevet's person now. "Fool..."

"ey now, ah not a bounty huntah anymore.  Ah tend mah raptahs, ah love mah mates, an' a raise ouah baby.  Ah take farmah, Fathah an' lovah more serious, hmm?  Ah just real skilled at dis.  et fill mah belly, en more ways den one.  En dis case.  Breakfast.  Maybe dinnah ef ah gotta stew et."  

Jansevet had pure fear in his eyes as he saw Vol finish up and leave Aket's mangled form alone.  He stood, picking up the pot and moving it closer to the old man.  "When I did this, for money.  I would apologize, if I was looking them in the eye.  I'm not sorry tonight.   You hurt a sweet man, made his life hell.  He was strong enough to stay alive.  As his husbands, we have an obligation, you see.  We are obligated to protect our family.  You no longer being alive will let me sleep SO much better at night now.  You should know some things.  Your oldest Grandson, Zakin, is a good, smart boy and I am glad to call him nephew.  Your daughter's supposedly dead baby.  That is the daughter I helped make.  Our Little Tarja is chosen to be a Shadowhunter for Vol'jin once he comes to his power.  She is beautiful and will grow strong of heart, spirit, body and mind.  She will be raised with unconditional love.  You will have at LEAST three more grandchildren, that you will never meet, nor will they know anything about you.  your legacy dies with you.  None will mourn.  Your wife, she will be treated as I treat an Aunt.  Your daughters I will protect until they find ones they love, I will arrange no marriage for them.  Every ministration you used to destroy them, I will work hard to undo.  You will cease to exist.. and I will destroy your memory one day at a time." 

Vol smiled, an oddly calm gesture as he placed his knife between the old man's eyes.  "They are my family now.  They are our family now." 

Xiao moved up behind Vol as he moved beside Jansevet, standing behind his love like a stalwart supporter, staring the Zandalari man down as his love spoke each and every word to dismantle the monster's life works. Xiao reached out for Vol's hand to stop him before he plunged the blade in, however. He spoke in Zandali, managing the sentence remarkably well for someone still learning the language. "May Bwonsomdi show your soul the same mercy you showed your family. Loa of Graves take you... and punish you forever." With that, he spat on Jansevet's face the same way he'd been spat at earlier. Then he let Vol's hand go, letting him plunge as he wished.

Vol grinned, holding Xiao's hand on his as he plunged the dagger down, letting the skull crack as the blade sunk in.  "Ja Loa gonna love workin' wit Ja, lil lovah."  He pulled the dagger out, flicked a bit of bone off of it and used the same technique on Jansevet as he did on Aket.  "You find that cup?  I want to collect some blood before we go ransacking the house.."

Xiao smiled with a little blush. "You bringing out my dominance paired with me dipping back into... well, 'War Veteran Xiao' has made me more confident in things like this." He said before nodding and reaching over for the teapot he found since it had a lid like Vol asked. "Will this work?"  

“It'll work.  Looks like a pandaren spoil.  Ours now."  Some blood from both men found its way into the pot, a small bit of cloth from Aket's robes plugging the end as both hearts and two pairs of tusks made it into the covered pot.  "There. Easy to carry."  He moved away, whistled, watched the raptors dive in to two dead trolls and turned to Xiao.  "We need to ransack the house, make it look like robbery.  unless you have a better idea?"

Xiao watched the two raptors for a moment before shaking himself away from it and looking at Vol. "I was just going to suggest we burn the place down, but... it is mostly stone, so I don't know if that would work."

"Before we do that, look for valuables then.  Anything that looks like an heirloom, or something they want to keep?  The inside will burn just fine, but the walls wont burn before the shamans and mages get here."

"Will that be enough?" He then gasped. "Ooh, we could make it look like a kitchen fire. Have something in the pot go wrong but we accelerate it?" He asked curiously, trying to be helpful.

“I am marrying a clever pandaren.  Look around.. ten minutes.  Then we burn it."

With That Vol wandered out, looking for all valuables he could find.  In a box he came back with a doll, some jewelry, Gold, A Sari-type length of silk that looked pandaren in its pattern, a few knives, of gold and obsidian.  There were other little treasures in the box, the black wooden container tucked under his arm.  "Find anything?"

Xiao smiled and kissed Vol before scampering off, going around looking through the home. He came back after some time, carrying a small box, looking as though he might cry. "Vol..." He whispered. "I found a hiding spot in Aret's old room... I found a journal, a doll... drawings..." He bit his lip. "I... I am afraid to ask him if he wants them." He cleared his throat. "I also found some antiques from Pandaria, likely stolen during the invasion. A small vase, some dinner finery. We can use them as our formal dinnerware." He was trying to remain casual, but something from Aret's hidey hole seemed to have upset him.  

"Let him decide.  They are his old memories.  We are the new."

Vol had built a small pyre on the cook stove, his raptors looking fat and happy now.  He had a bottle of what looked like wter, but smelled like goblin jet fuel.  "Janaret.  Take Tarja, your sister and Mother back home.  We will meet you there in a bit.  Get them settled in to a room for the night and we'll talk."  

There was a whine, but Aret did as he was told, going quiet as Vol poured the liquid on the wood, soaking the material and then over what the raptors had not eaten.  "I don't have that fire breath... thing....  Care to do the honors?"

Xiao nodded, setting the small collection of items down and taking the bottle from Vol. "I always hated this part, the alcohol always tastes horrible..." He said with a shake of his head. "The bodies, the stove, or... everything?"

The Darkspear bent down, picked up the little collection, and walked to his pets and put his arm around one's neck.  "All of it.  I'll take Valor...  bring Honor with you?  Burn it down, no trace."  He blew a kiss and touched his hearthstone, letting Xiao know that they were landed and waiting on him.  

"Quickly, lil love.  We have a mess here to settle everyone in."

Xiao nodded. "We will be right behind you." He said to Vol before watching him leave. He brought the bottle to his lips, took a swig, sparked the Chi in front of his lips, and spit in a wide arc of fire that exploded from his mouth. He had luckily grown quite skilled at this, managing to not singe a single piece of fur. He did this several times, the first one singeing the bodies to a crisp until they were unrecognizable. Then he did the same to the kitchen, starting from the pot and making it look like a kitchen fire gone wrong. He hurriedly backed out of the room toward the front door, taking Honor with him. He filled the back rooms one by one, hurrying out until the entire house was starting to fill with smoke. 

"Come on, Honor."  He said it with a cough as he pressed his back to the front door, far away from the smoke as he could manage. He took one last swig and filled the main room, the fire getting dangerously close. He threw the bottle into the fire, making a small fireball explode upward and causing Xiao to yip. "Okay time to go!" 

He triggered the hearthstone and yanked them to safety as the home filled with flames, his fur undamaged but damn was it warm to the touch as if he'd been laying in the sun for several hours.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Once Vol walked in to the house, the boxes  in his hand, he heard the screams.  They were of joy at least.  Vol wandered up, sighing as he got into the shower, scrubbing himself as clean as he could of blood, clipping his nails even to be sure nothing was left behind.  He got as presentable as he could, shaving the sides of his head and rebraiding his hair, making sure his tusks had no trace of blood or grime.  He was aiming to make a first impression.  When he sensed Xiao home and in the house, he wandered down, tying a knee length kilt low on his hips.  

"Get cleaned up, My love.  Best to explain tonight before they all are settled in to bed."

Xiao came home and nodded, leaning against Vol and hugging him tight. "I will head up, this armor feels much hotter than normal..." He said as he kissed Vol's nose and wandered up, looking tired. He washed quickly, but it still took a small bit since he had to do his fur cleaning process. He came down wearing his red vest and black pants, as casually dressy as he could be. 

"Why am I suddenly nervous. I brought the woman back from the brink of death and I am worried about what she will think of me now?"

"She will think how she thinks.   It is Aret who thinks the world of you.  The man who curls his arms around you in the night as you cuddle and sleep, love and wake up with kisses all over that adorable face of yours.  It is the little girl who calls you Ba, who wants cuddles and comfort, who looks at you as if you hung the stars for her and her alone.  It is me, and reminding you that, no matter what, you are the other side of my soul."  

Vol smiled, kissing Xiao on the nose and taking his hand.  "Ja come den?"Xiao practically swooned at Vol's words, wrapping his arms around him and kissing him deeply. He gave a little moan, not one of lust, but just of how deeply he loved the man. "I thank the Celestials for the day I met you, Vol'raka Autumnpaw." He said the full name, grinning widely, love so clear in the way he looked at him. "I am ready..." 

He leaned down again, grinning.  "Wit dat dominant streak, mebe Are and ah cane make lil mastah Xiao feel nice en da mornin', hmm?  Ah do owe mouth presents."

He left it at that as he walked to where they had made rooms for Naddja and her son.  There, Janaret was holding Tarja, letting Nielka coo over her as Naddja and her mother spoke in the corner.  There were tears in the eyes of all four, Zakin asleep in his mother's lap.  It was Naddja who smiled looking toward her mother.  

"Mother, this is Vol'raka and Xiao Chun.  They are...."

"The loves of my life.  They are my husbands to be.". Aret smiled, standing and walking toward both.  He didn't care what his family thought as he licked Vol's chin and kissed Xiao's lips.  "Thank you.....  I don't know what happened, but I.... Thank you."

Xiao wiggled a bit. "You better follow through with that." He murmured happily before following them inside. He was looking at Pahre the most as they spoke, wanting to make sure she was okay. However, when Aret spoke of them, he smiled and leaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around him to hug him gently as he returned it; albeit chastely as his mother was right there. 

"I would do anything for you and your family... Vol too. You needed to be safe, to be able to sleep at night. So did your mother and sisters."

"I think, Little Master, that we will be ok now.". 

Aret blushed, hugging Xiao tightly before introductions.  "This is my mother, Pahre, my sister, Nielka. They have met our daughter.". He added through the link.  "She knows Naddja birthed her, and both accept not calling her Tarja's mother."  

Pahre stood, clothed in whatever Naddja had that fit, walking over to Xiao first and looking down on him.  She let her magic fall, showing so many old scars that even Vol was agape.  "You, stopped.  No more hurts.  Jansevet, Mala'ket.  Dead?   Yes.  Good.  Grandbabies safe.". Her orcish was just as bad as Xiao's Zandali.

Xiao nodded at Aret, so happy to hold him. When Pahre walked over and her magic dropped, his eyes actually glistened slightly with sadness as if he were fighting tears. He nodded. "Yes, dead." He said in Zandali before hugging slowly extending his arms as to not frighten her with sudden movement, and then went to hug her. That would also mean she'd have a whole mess of INCREDIBLY soft Xiao fur wrapped around her, it'd likely feel like heaven on her skin compared to what she's been living with. "I am sorry for pain. You no deserve it. They no deserve life. I am happy I got rid of. You safe now. Stay here if want?" He said with a smile, looking up at her, assuming she hadn't panicked and pulled away from the hug.

"Your Zandali is getting better, Lover."  

Vol wandered forward and kissed Aret softly, giving the same look to both of his mates as he pulled him into an embrace, back to chest.  The look was one of love, softness, and acceptance.  "Auntie, You are welcome to stay here long as you like and need.  No strings.  You are mother to our mate, and grandmother to our daughter.  After that hell and those two Quashi Yudo, you deserve rest."

Pahre tensed up, so used to pain, she was not used to endearment nor affection.  She quickly recovered and hugged Xiao back.  She looked at him, then the two large trolls.  "You love my son, no pain, anger or yelling?  No hitting, or..  abuse?"

Vol nodded, looking at Xiao then down at Aret.  "No unwanted pain.  Respect and love.  He is a loving father, a beloved mate and a good man.  No matter what that shit bag tried to do, he is sweet, caring, and loving.  As he said, you and your daughters are welcome here.  We have extra rooms, but will need to get you clothing.  We grabbed some things in your old house, we will sort them after breakfast.  Aret..."  

He pulled away, a hand on his sweetheart's cheek.  "Settle them in for the night, show them the kitchen if they need something to eat before breakfast, then come to bed.  We will need to talk a little and sleep.  I have to be up in a few hours and I am a bit tired."

Xiao smiled over at Vol, looking so proud as his Zandali was complimented. "I have been studying." He knew that one, as if he was hoping he'd be asked about it. He then looked back to Pahre and shook his head. "Never anger or yelling. He is Ba'la, Wassa'dim... Lok'dim, someday. We only try to..." He paused, thinking hard for a moment before finally finding the word. "Strive to make him happy." He said with a resolute nod before looking to the Vol. "Right, we need to talk to Aret about... that thing." 

He said in Orcish now, looking at Aret with a hint of concern, though trying to hide it.

Aret was confused for a moment but nodded, licking Vol's chin and clicking tusks as they kissed.   The Prelate kissed Xiao softly as well, caste and loving.  "Mother, Nini.  Come we'll get some blankets and settle you in."

[created-by-teen-fury]

Sál Rekur|| Bella’s Story pt. 2

Hello! We got another part of Bella’s backstory. This isn’t very well edited, so sorry about that. But here you’ll learn about how she left Iceland.

Here’s part 1 if you missed it

TW: Fire

WC:1493.The longest one yet

Date: December 14th, 2002

Time: 12:33 pm

Location: Sál Rekur, Iceland

    It started off like any other day for the Noctis Umbra. Children were attending school, while their parents tended to their duties. Mid-winter was quickly approaching causing the nights to grow longer. The people of Sál Rekur were ecstatic as their most important holiday approached. The winter solstice was a time of celebration of Noctis Umbra’s Goddess, Nova.

    The children at the local school waited impatiently for the end of the day when they could return home to their parents. That night in town square there would be a festival where all would be attending. It was the start of a 3 week celebration of the longest night of the year. The 14th of december marked the beginning of the first week called Initium Tenebris. The night would be filled with dancing in the oncoming moonlight and traditional food.

    Schooling let out around 3:40 and children flew out of the school doors into the blistering cold.Younger kids watched as the older teenagers appeared in each shadow, getting closer to home each time. Parents flocked outside trying to find their kid in the snow. Ísabella watched on the steps of the schoolhouse waiting for her father. Her scarf was wrapped around her neck covering the lower half of her mouth. Her two braids whipped in the wind and she could hold back her smile as she watched snowflakes fall around her.

    It wasn’t long until a warm hand wrapped itself around her shoulder. Her smile brightened as she turned to meet the figure kneeling beside her, “Pabbi!” Her laughter filled the schoolyard as she flung herself into her father’s arm.

    He held her tightly, his own laughter slipping past his lips, “Hello to you too Lovely!” Holding Ísabella secure, he lifted her onto his shoulders allowing himself room to pick up her school bag, “And how was your day?”

    Leaning over, trying to make eye contact Ísabella started going through every detail of her day. Her father listened intently, grinning as he started the trek home. “Today Mrs. Grímsdóttir gave us cookies! They’re shaped like the moon and she even gave us 2!” Leaning down to his ear she whispered, “But I saved one for you and Mamma.”

    “Oh did you now? Very sweet of you my dear.” He giggled along with his daughter until they reached a small cabin on the far side of the island.

    A figure waited at the door, her purple hair tied up into a bun and an apron tied around her waist. Ísabella gasped, running the second her tiny boots hit the ground, “Mamma!”

    Her mother welcomed the 5 year old with open arms, engulfing her in a bear hug, “There’s my beautiful girl!”

    “Well it looks like my gorgeous Bryndis is home early,” Kissing his wife of the cheek he ushered the both of them inside.

    “They decided to let us leave earlier because of the celebration. Now I have time to actually cook dinner,” She leaned down to her daughter and started to unwrap her scarf from her neck. She placed a kiss against her forehead and patted down her hair, “Now why don’t you go brush out your hair for tonight, and I’ll be in your room soon to help pick an outfit.”

    “Okay Mamma!” Grinning, Ísabella ran to her bathroom and began brushing her hair.

    Once her daughter reached the bathroom Bryndis turned towards her husband, “I have a bad feeling about this Hymir. There have been signs everywhere, and i don’t like what they're telling me.”

    Wrapping his arms around her waist, letting her head fall into his neck, Hymir let out a sigh, “I know Bryn… We can’t stay her any longer. For Ísabella’s sake we need to flee. Tonight.”

    “But what about Initium Tenebris? She’s been looking forward to it for months?”

    “Love, I’d rather her be alive for next year’s Solstice. You know we have to do this.”

    Tears fell onto his collar bone, causing him to tighten his grip around her. Bryndis held back a sob in her throat as she lifted her head. Cupping Hymir’s cheeks she gave his a gentle kiss, “You’re right, but you know as well as I do she won’t be safe with us.”

    His blue eyes became a reflective pool, a single droplet rolling down his cheek, “Yeah… Yeah I know, but she deserves to live another year. I couldn’t forgive myself if she…” he trailed off, not daring to finish his sentence.

    Wiping his cheek, she looked towards the bathroom door, “I’ll go pack her stuff. You prepare the boat.”

    Ísabella watched as her mother folded her clothing into a small leather suitcase, “Mamma, where are we going?”

    Bryndis faltered, pondering what to say, “To the mainland.”

    Ísabella’s head tilted to the side, trying to catch her mother’s eye, “But High Priestess Celinda said that was against the rules.”

    “Well, she approved our trip.”

    Ísabella frowned but nodded her head, “Will we be coming back? Arís wanted to sleepover next week!”

    Bryndis closed her eyes and nodded, “Of course. We will be back by next week.” Closing the suitcase Bryndis excited the room, not letting Ísabella see the tear that fell from her eyes.

The time was 6:40 pm. The only source of light was from the moon itself. Music danced through the air, finding its way to every home. Though all homes were empty seeing as the people of Sál Rekur gathered in town square to enjoy the festivities.

All but one family was in attendance. Ísabella sat on the dock behind her house, swinging her legs to the beat of the music. She was once again bundled up in a heavy jacket and scarf. Her parents worked quickly, preparing the boat for departure. It was small, but sturdy enough for three people. Bryndis was able to snag the keys to it while everyone remained at the festival. They were originally locked in her boss’ desk meant to travel to the mainland in case of emergency.

“Pabbi? Are you sure we can’t stop by the festival?”

Hymir sighed and kneeled down to Ísabella’s level, “No dear, we don’t have time.”

Ísabella puffed out her bottom lip, “Not even for 5 minutes?”

He shook his head and took her into his arms, “I’m sorry Lovely, but we can’t”

Bryndis emerged from the ship’s hold, “Hymir, It’s time to go.”

Meanwhile the Initium Tenebris festival was in full swing. The town square was turned into a dance floor and was soon filled with people of all ages, basking in the moon’s light. It was rather dark due to it being a waxing moon instead of a full moon, but that had never been a problem for the Noctis Umbra.

In the distance a small orange light was turned on. It was almost unnoticeable at first, but soon, it started to grow. Brighter and Larger. By the time people started noticing the light, a fire had engulfed part of the island, sending fumes of smoke into the air. Emerging from the fire were 7 humans, dressed in masks and jackets. They had pouches at their side. All at once, they reached into the bags and pulled out a hand full of anise and threw it into the air. The wind carried it across the square. The citizens had no choice, but to breathe it in, rendering them helpless. Burns covered their bodies, both from the roaring flames and anise. It became very apparent there was no hope for the Noctis Umbra

Bryndis watch in the distance as the light spread to the house. She quickly tired to usher Ísabella into the boat, but she broke free of her grasp. Bryndis screamed after her daughter, “Ísabella!” She started to go after her but, Hymir pulled her back before tying his scarf over his jacket and running into the now burning building.

Ísabella, still with her jacket and scarf hiding half her face, sprinted for her room. She rammed herself into her bedroom door, trying desperately to get inside. Flames surrounded her now. Her coat caught on fire, and she cried out in pain quickly shedding it from her body. Hymir appeared shortly after and threw Ísabella over his shoulder, rushing out of the house.

Ísabella kicked and scream, “Pabbi! I forgot Bessi! I want Bessi!” She continued on about her sobbing about her stuffed animal orca left in her room.

Hymir once again boarded the boat placing Ísabella into the hold. He quickly covered her mouth trying to shush her. “Ísabella, Lovely we’ll get you a new one. I just need you to be quiet for me okay?”

Bryndis steered the ship from above, trying her hardest not to be spotted by the boats near the east side of the island. Using the shadows around her she was able to cloak the vessel, allowing them to fade into the night.

[lockedwithloki]

Pain Beacon

Fandom: Marvel x Supernatural

Pairing:  Loki x Angel!Reader

Requested: yes

summary: (as requested, with some changes from me) I have a supernaturalxmarvel request, the reader is an angel who helped out the winchesters a lot and they were contacted by Shield to be an avenger and no one knows the reader is an angel until the reader nearly blows up an entire hydra base in their desperation to keep one of the avengers safe (I have no preferences as to who the reader was trying to save)

Author’s note: Okay so I some of the angel stuff were made up because I don’t remember what exactly had happened in that episode that class of angels appeared. I hope you like it, let me know :)

PS I love the likes and reblogs but feedback is more than welcomed, so please leave a comment.

(Y/N) stared at the tree faces in front of her, which she had learnt to call family. Sam, Dean and Castiel were always there for her. And of course she always helped them for whatever they needed. Being the only one left of her special angelic type was not easy. She belonged to the Rit Zien, the medics of Heaven. When they disappeared and heaven stopped working the way it did before, she left. Castiel found her and brought her to the small family they had together.

Few weeks ago, a man, Fury, the director of SHIELD, asked for her assistance. Her special healing powers were much needed for the Avengers. (Y/N) accepted and it was time to say goodbye to her family. “Whenever you need anything you know how to find me. If you are in any kind of pain I will find you” she said, her power of empathy always made her sense when someone she cared about was in a painful state, whether it was physical or not. With one last hug she disappeared away from them.

She immediately appeared in front of the Stark Tower, Avengers’ headquarters. She started at the building in awe, not used to that kind of facilities. She had learned to live the human life, she even loved it. Her vessel had helped her a lot, until the day she died and she took the whole form of her vessel.

Living with the Winchesters was nothing like that. She walked inside with her bags in her hands. She was praying that everything would work out.

It had been a few months since that day. (Y/N) had learned to survive around the superheroes. She liked spending time with them, but she was hiding her identity at all cost. Pretending she was human like them with special powers made her fell better around people.

In the time she was there she had made a special bond with Loki, the god of Mischief. She knew about his past, but now the whole team had accepted him. They were always careful around him, but everyone seemed like they trusted him in a fight. (Y/N) was fascinating with the way she always felt his pain. Pain was her beacon and he had plenty to share. It was almost never physical, she had learnt to know the difference by now.

Loki secretly liked it. He felt like someone for the first time understood him. So he let her in more easily that she expected. But of course she couldn’t heal the emotional pain no matter how powerful she was. Loki didn’t mind that though. He just wanted to be able to talk to her every night.

Every night they would spend it together, talking. In many occasions they had fallen asleep in the same bed, at least Loki would, because (Y/N) didn’t need to sleep. Every night Loki would share his feelings with her and every time she would whisper to him “It’s okay Loki. You are doing better now, because you deserve it”. He loved hearing those words. They always made him feel better.

The day of another mission had arrived. They had discovered another HYDRA base and they were going to blow it up for good. (Y/N) always went with them, but since they thought she couldn’t fight, they let her stay at the quinjet in case someone needed her medical powers. Every time she thought that it would be better to help them, because she was powerful. But she never did. Until that day.

She was walking around the area of the jet anxiously. They were missing for too long for her liking. She was trying to catch some kind of an emotion from anyone, but there was nothing. Until she felt it. Loki was hurt and she had to teleport herself there. She didn’t care if anyone found out of her true form anymore.

“(Y/N)?” Tony asked surprised when he saw her appearing in front of him. She ignored him and looked around her trying to find where Loki exactly was.

She saw him on the ground with a weird looking creature was standing above him. Must be one of HYDRA’s experiments, she thought. With one swift move of her hand she threw the creature away from him and into the wall, without touching it. Loki looked at her surprised.

(Y/N) closed her eyes and put her hand up. She slowly closed her palm making every thing that worked with electricity explode. “Move, now!” she yelled at her teammates, who were watching her with the same look Loki was. They all started running outside because a fire was ready to start. (Y/N) ran to grab Loki, who had almost passed out. She wrapped his arm around her shoulder and teleport him back to the quinjet. She laid him down and quickly started the healing progress. She touched his forehead and a glowing light appeared before his wounds were completely healed. Everyone else arrived just seconds after that.

“How did you get here?” Natasha asked her and before she had the chance to reply, Loki grabbed her hand in need of help to stand up.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked him softly and he nodded in reply.

“What are you?” Loki asked her and everyone looked at her waiting for an answer.

She took a deep breath before saying “I’m an Angel. An Angel of the Lord”.

The rest of the trip was spent with questions about angelic stuff, which she tried to explain as simpler as possible. By the end of the trip she was exhausted and ran to her room before she had to answer any more questions.

 She was laying on her bed, reading a book when she heard a knock on the door. “Come in” she said loudly and Loki’s face appeared into her view. “Hi” she said closing her book. “Is anything wrong” she asked, feeling his troubled feelings.

“I just couldn’t sleep” he said and sat down at the bed next to her.

“I could make you unconscious” she said and Loki chuckled at her.

“I would rather talk to you” he said and (Y/N) smiled softly at him. “I wish you would have told me, what you really are” he said after a few seconds of silence.

“You are right, I am sorry. It just felt nice being human for a while” she said honestly and he nodded his head in understanding.

“What changed your mind?”

“You. Being in danger. Being close to death” she replied. “There was one of those time I knew that I could take your pain away and I was not going to throw it away. I wish I could do it in other occasions too, but I can’t”.

“You can always try” he smirked.

“I have, Loki. It is not working like that. Emotional healing is too powerful even for me” she tried to explain and Loki stopped her.

“You have been trying in the wrong ways” he said and she looked at him confused. All her questions disappear when Loki’s lips met hers, in a slow and shy kiss. They leaned in as closer as possible, feeling the calmness of their first kiss running through their veins.

[poweredbycoffeeandwine]

I Don’t Mean To: Part 4

Here it is! Part 4! Only one more to go before ME1 is done for these two. I hope you enjoy it, and make sure you stare at the beautiful art work if you haven’t already.....it’s what I’ll be doing for a long while! Thanks, as always to Hubs, for editing, and putting up with my whining when words don’t come out right. 

Tavrien Shepard x Kaidan Alenko - ME1 - SFW Fluffy goodness - Night before Ilos - 946 words - (Masterlist here)

Her mother was going to be so disappointed. Sure, they’d stolen the Normandy with Captain Anderson’s assistance; almost an order really despite his no longer being in charge of the vessel. But could that really safeguard her, them? Especially if this mission turned out to be a bust, and they couldn’t bring Saren in to face his crimes? If they were unsuccessful, the Council would likely strip her of her Specter status. Her whole team would be disbanded, and Udina would help them smear her reputation. She really couldn’t afford to doubt now. Keeping the trajectory of the ship secret from the Alliance and the Council was the only thing that mattered now. Not that there was a ship in the fleet capable of catching them. She told herself that was the reason pinging Captain Hannah Shepard would have to wait, no matter how much she might want her mom’s advice at the moment.

Tavrien laughed out loud, the sound bouncing strangely in an empty cabin. Should someone on the verge of court martial, at the very least, really be worried about asking relationship advice from her mommy? She let her head thump gracelessly on her desk. Long auburn hair blanketed her face, keeping out the glow of her console. She’d attempted a message to Captain Shepard several times, desperate to inform her of the situation she was in. Her mother deserved to hear the facts, not whatever tale the Alliance would spin if she failed. But somehow, every time she took to writing, news of her and Kaidan found its way on to the screen. No matter how she started, she found herself writing about her anxiety over fraternization regs, the butterflies taking over her body, and the feeling of home that embraced her at the mere sight of him.

She remembered her first teen-aged infatuation with another spacer kid. He’d been such a daredevil, challenging her by-the-book ways. Hannah had soothed her heart-sore daughter when the boys father had been reassigned, taking him away from her forever. Mom had never belittled her experience, but urged her to remember, to fight for love when it found its way back to her. She hadn’t understood it then, but the fear of losing Kaidan brought her mother’s lesson new clarity. Hindsight betrayed the pain, barely hidden, behind Hannah’s gaze, the longing.

She was getting nowhere lost in her own head, and considered going to the mess to visit the crew. Tavrien shouldn't have been surprised that all members of her team had chosen to stay aboard. Mutiny, it seemed, was just another adventure they would follow her on. She prayed she deserved such loyalty. No doubt some of them needed a morale boost; and heading down to give whatever reassurance she could sounded like a good plan. But, the more she considered it, the more certain she was that hiding away in her cabin with the bottle of red wine she kept stashed felt like the best plan - no matter how selfish.

Tavrien poured a glass for herself, started a vid for background noise, and moved to the bed. She needed time to consider the team’s next move. She buried herself in data pads, her usual fallback plan, to work out strategy. She should just try to rest, her brain already full of tactics and battle scenarios, yet she owed it to everyone to prepare as much as she could. She poured herself another glass, and combed through data collected by her team, looking for whatever edge she could get. The wine had not been a wise choice.  She didn’t drink regularly, and it was going to her head quickly. Kaidan joked she was a lightweight anytime she attempted to “hang” with the rest of the team. After a time, words began to blur, and eyelids drooped. She curled into a ball; pretending it was for a more comfortable reading position before sleep claimed her.

She woke to a small sound, and a subtle change in the distribution of weight on her bed. The vid had nearly finished, and Kaidan was planting small kisses across her forehead, down her neck, and onto the shoulder bared by her tank top. Tavrien wrapped her arm around him sleepily, kissed the hollow of his throat, and murmured something she wasn’t sure made sense.

“I thought I would find you here. Didn’t think you’d be asleep, but I’m glad to see it.”

“Not sleeping,” she yawned, “it’s mental preparation. You are welcome to join me while I brainstorm.” She rubbed her cheek against his chest, hugging his solid form against her, basking in his nearness.

He chuckled, hands working their way from hip to shoulder, pausing to run his fingers through her hair, then repeating the process. Tavrien hummed, her response to his caresses making his voice take a husky tone. “Ah,” he paused to kiss her softly on the lips, “I don’t mean to let you plan this assault on Saren on your own. However, may I suggest an alternative?”

She worked her hands beneath his shirt, lightly scratching her nails down his abs toward his belt, “I’m not one for turning away opinions.”

Kaidan cupped her face in his hands, and whispered, “Let me take care of you tonight, and we will face whatever comes together.”

“How could I say no to such an offer?” she teased, falling into his embrace, hoping for a lifetime of these small moments.

“You can’t. I’m too charming and irresistible.” he replied, continuing to rub soothing circles along her body. “Now hush, and let me distract you properly.”

She laughed, and rolled on her back at his urging as he kissed her lips.  

[chief-1-hunet]

This for you, boo~ @ohmygillygoshoppler 

Hopefully I can get a part 2 in. 

Here ya go~

“Down Girl”

Jordi was sick…

She slowly came down the stairs, her hair in a matted mess, and bits of mascara from the night before that smudged around her eyes. Simóne and her had a girl’s night, and surprisingly, Jordi had more than a few sips of the devil’s water.

Simóne was baking her famous apple pie when Jordi sat at the kitchen table, and she paused when she heard a sniffle, “Is that what I think it was?”

“Huh?” followed by a nasty cough.

Simóne sighed, “Not just a hangover, but a cold, too,” she rolled out the dough, “Looks like it’s time to put an onion on your foot.”

Jordi frowned, “Can’t I just take cold medicine?” She cringed at the sharp pain of a headache, “And an aspirin.”

“Sure,” she smirked, “And an onion on your foot.”

Jordi just accepted it, she was way too out of it to argue. She got up from her seat and made some herbal tea. Simóne actually had some pretty dope herbal tea, that she would prefer no other kind over the witch’s.

Jordi smirked as she boiled some water in a kettle, “Wanna know what else?”

“Hm?” The witch mused.

“I’m also on my period.”

They both cringed, and Simóne replied, “That sucks. Mine just ended.”

Jordi nodded, and they quietly continued with their tasks.

——

Jordi had finished her tea, took some cold medicine, and was heading back up to her room when she got a text:

DINGUS (strife): you home? :)

Jordi’s heart fluttered, but she immediately oppressed the feeling. She bit her lip and replied:

Jordi: yeah but I'm sick, so its probably not a good day to come over

DINGUS (strife): lol i didn't even say i was coming over ;)

Jordi: …

Jordi: shut up

DINGUS (strife): death said he was coming over anyways, i was only gonna follow if you were home, so i guess I'm followin’ ;)

Jordi: strife please,, i can't today…

DINGUS (strife): :(

DINGUS (strife): did something happen last night?

She couldn’t find anything to say, so she put the phone back in her pocket and continued to her room, but was stopped by Simóne’s gentle grasp on her wrist.

“Why have you been shutting out Strife lately? You know he likes y—“

“I know,” she pulled away from the grasp, “That’s the problem.”

——

Death indeed came over, dropping off some herbs from the Maker’s Realm for Simóne. He rapped on the door, and it was quickly answered by the lovely witch, “Heeey! Come on in—“

Strife pushed passed Death, almost in a panic, “Where’s Jordi, Simóne?”

Simóne sighed, letting Death walk in and take off his shoes after giving Strife a grunt, “She’s upstairs in her room, but she really isn’t feeling well, Strife. I don’t think it’s a good idea to go up and—“

Strife ignored her warning and rushed up the stairs after shoving off his shoes and hanging up his scarf and coat.

Simóne knew there was little she could do to stop him when he was determined. She looked to her deadly friend and smiled, “And how are you?”

Death grunted, taking a seat on the couch in front of the fireplace, “Decent. Not any better or any worse,” his lip curled up, as if he was thinking about something that revolted him, “Strife insisted on coming along, talking non-stop about how Jordan refused to return her calls, and how strangely she was acting.”

Simóne was fixing him a cup of black coffee, a usual for him, “Well, she feels like shit today. She danced on the bar counter last night. She was so drunk off her ass, she danced, Death. I took a video of it.” She smirked, holding up her cell phone.

Death looked over his shoulder to smirk back, “It would be a crime not to show me.”

Simóne hummed, “I would never commit such a blasphemous thing,” followed by a chuckle.

—-

Jordi sat at her art desk. She was staring at one of the portraits she had done in the past of a man that died before the apocalypse, one that could not be resurrected because he did not die because of it.

He was in a car accident.

It was the day the world actually ended. Her world…

It was something she never wanted to remember, and here she was.

And it was all Strife’s fault.

She sighed, biting back tears. His portrait was placed back in her portfolio folder and hidden away in her drawer.

As if on cue, the spikey haired nephilim barged in her room, “What’s your fucking problem?” He stomped over, “Why have I been getting the cold shoulder these passed few weeks, huh?! You don’t wanna see me anymore?! What the fuck did—“

“You have his temper.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

She played with an ink brush, using it to calm her by softly brushing the hairs over her left palm, “You’re just like him,” she sadly smiled, “Your temper, humor, flirtatiousness, closet geniusness…”

He simmered down, realizing just what she meant. His voice softened, “Jordi…”

She hung her head, squeezing the brush in a fist, “God dammit, Strife,” she swung around to face him, her face covered in dry tears, now forming new ones, “Why do you have to fucking remind me of him? Who fucking sent you??!! Am I dead and in Hell?? Is this just a fucking punishment for my sins? What the hell did I do? All I ever did was…” she sobbed, covering her nose and mouth with her sweater, “All I ever did was love him.”

She plopped on the bed, just sobbing. Today really was a shitty day.

Strife could see that the crying really wasn’t helping with her congestion. He ground his teeth and popped his jaw from side to side. He left the room in search for a tissue box.

His ventures took him to the kitchen, where he walked passed Death and Simóne sitting on the couch laughing up a storm at some video.

Simóne was out of breath, “H-Hey Strife?” a cackle, “How’s Jordi?” Death guffawed in response.

Strife shot them both a glare, grabbed the box of tissues, and headed back up to her bedroom.

Simóne stopped laughing, “Craaappp.”

—

Jordi thought Strife had left for good, and was getting out the last bit of tears she had. But alas, he returned.

He always did.

He set the box of tissues next to her, and sat next to her small form on the edge of the bed.

There was silence for a moment, then he broke it, “I’m sorry.”

She looked up at him in surprise, and he was already looking over her with his golden gaze, “Strife… You… did nothing wrong,” she sighed, “It’s me. I’m just really fucked up. Up here, that is,” he hit her head with her palm. Bad idea, she forgot about her headache, “Ow…”

That prompted more crying, and she held Strife’s bulky arm, “I’m so sorry, Strife! I know you’re not him… I would never—“ she coughed, “I would never want you to be anyone else,” she sobbed, burring her face in his bicep, “I just can’t help the fact that you make me feel loved,” this made her lose all of her composure, all of the bottled up pain left her vessel. The once composed, cool Jordi was now a mess before one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, “Like he did!” She collapsed on the floor at his knees, losing herself completely.

Strife wasn’t having it any longer. He hated seeing her this way. This wasn’t her. She never deserved to cry! Not a single fucking tear!

He took her being in his strong arms and squeezed her against him, not leaving any room for gaps, “Stop crying. Stop. Stop. Stop…”

After what seemed like forever, but was really about five minutes, she stopped sobbing.

Deep breath.

Inhale.

Exhale.

“I’m done,” she sniffled, “I’m done…”

Strife let out a relieved sigh, “Good,” he held her face, forcing her to look up at him. He didn’t care that she looked like a mess, “I don’t ever want to see you like this again.”

She smiled, followed by a pathetic chuckle, “I don’t either, you goof. I hate crying.”

He smirked, “That’a girl,” and he placed a kiss on her forehead, long and warm.

She gasped, looking up at him in question.

“Returning the favor, you know, for that one time I made you be my getaway driver. Best night of my life, by the way,” he snickered.

Jordi chuckled, hugging him to subtract the distance, “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

He hugged her in return, of course, rubbing her back, “I’ll think about it.”

—-

Simóne and Death were still recovering from the video. Death couldn’t even finish his coffee.

He breathed out, “It’s a shame I wasn’t there in person. There were probably other atrocities she performed, seeing as how drunk she was.”

Simóne snickered, “You wouldn’t believe.”

Death leaned in, expecting her to elaborate.

“Well—“ She was stopped at the sound of footsteps coming from the stairs. Strife followed by Jordi in a blanket bundle.

Jordi brought the box of tissues with her, blowing her nose, “What’s so funny? I wanna laugh, too.”

Strife crossed his arms, “Yeah, same,” he was picking up on the modern human slang.

Both Death and Simóne snorted, trying very hard not to lose their shit.

Both Strife and Jordi raised a brow in response.

Simóne pulled out her phone and pulled up the video, “Come look,” a snicker.

—-

Jordi sat in the love seat opposite to the three of them, who were still rolling around, dying.

“I hope I see you all in Hell,” she said grumpily, followed by a sniffle. Jordi covered her whole being in the blanket, looking like a white fluff.

Strife was practically crying, “Looks like there’s a lot I still don’t know about you.”

“I just really liked the song okay!! Down Girl by Roy Woods is a great song!” She grunted.

Death had calmed down before the rest did, able to finish his coffee. He could see how sickly Jordi was, so he decided it was time for her to be entertained.

“Simóne,” he pulled out a scroll with golden trimming, “A friend told me to pass this on to you.”

Simóne took the scroll, still recovering from the video as she was opening it.

Her laughing stopped immediately after reading it.

The blush on her face was the reddest Jordi had ever seen it.

She smirked, “I fucking knew it!!” She hopped up an down on the couch, “I knew he’d ask you on a date!!! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!!!”

Strife looked at the scroll, eyes wide, “Nathaniel?!!! The angel???”

Jordi stopped hopping after her headache worsened, “Ow ow ow.”

Strife went to her side, sitting her on his lap, “Take it easy, shorty,” he smirked, “Don’t start dancin’ again.”

She only smacked him on the arm.

Simóne was still flushed, “I… I never thought he’d actually…”

Jordi shrugged, “He thinks you’re a cutie~. And why wouldn’t he think so. You are.”

Death and Strife nodded on agreement.

Before Simóne could respond, Jordi cut in, “Nuh uh, you’re not aloud to say no.”

She sighed in defeat, “Fine.”

To be continued…