#kevin grows his hair out after being in the nest TO ME !

[crunchy-rocc]

pevin (pineapple kevin)

[ninyard]

Heeey what do you think was that made Kevin finally leave the nest?

I wrote like a 2k word fic-of-an-answer to this one my friend but I wasn’t vibing with it! So I’m starting again. But same thing as the last draft of this answer; I think about Kevin leaving the nest ALL THE TIME

~

(“Keep mouthing off like a pair of fucking frogs.” Riko spat in English to them both. When Jean shut the door, “Do you think you’re better than I am?”

“Your ego will kill you someday.” He looked Riko in the eye. “I think you care too much about other people’s success to make yourself look better. You’re building your Court,” Kevin swallowed hard, still trying to hold his head up, gravity failing him as he started to tremble. “But you think it’s just guaranteed you’ll be on it.”)

~

Mandatory CW for The Breaking Of A Hand and Kevin Has Nothing To Live For. See also: the foxes are foxes and their lives are Fucked Up (suicide mention, overdose mention, panic attacks & drug use)

Okay.

Let’s. Talk. About. Kevin.

Idk if I’m allowed to say that Kevin is an underrated character. I really don’t think I am. But if I was allowed to say that I WOULD. I am so very passionate about Kevin I would absolutely die for him and he’s not even real. So let’s talk about his hand.

Can you even begin to imagine what was going through Kevin’s head that night? It looked like practice, then The Master talking about potential, then Riko is mad, then pain and blood and how do I get out of here? Then is it worth it if my life is over?

I think there probably was a minute where Kevin sat alone, covered in his own blood, just thinking there was no point in being alive anymore. His playing hand didn’t really look like a hand anymore, his life and reputation and everything he had worked for just pumping out of his hand and staining his shirt. He didn’t remember passing out but when he came to Riko was gone, and his body was running on fumes trying to keep the pain from overwhelming his system. He probably threw up, all over the locker room, his blood trickling through the tiles, the echo of his own screams ringing through his ears like a non-stop siren. He probably couldn’t really see properly for a little bit and he probably couldn’t move for a while, either. Riko was a foot shorter than him, but he made up for that difference by channeling every ounce of anger and jealousy he felt for Kevin into his feet to stomp the shit out of Kevin’s hand until he knew he would never play again. Jean found Kevin not long later, maybe a couple minutes, or an hour. Kevin begged him to get Riko out of his room. Jean wrapped Kevin’s hand up as best he could, and promised him to deal with it as long as Kevin was there when he got back. Jean had figured he was a flight risk, and knew if Kevin left, Riko’s French personal punching bag would come in handy to take out all his egotistical frustration on. Kevin promised he’d be there when Jean came back. Jean came back to his jacket and wallet missing, a tiny scrap of paper left on the bed, an almost illegible ‘sorry’ scrawled across it. He burned it in the bathroom sink before Riko could find it.

So Kevin’s in his car, and he’s driving. He doesn’t know where yet, and man, is he a hazard. Twice on his journey he nearly knocked out behind the wheel, his head bobbing as the pain begged his body to sleep. He probably had to pull over a couple times to be sick, or to have a panic attack, or both. I know he went through the stages of grief on that drive to Virginia. He probably turned on his radio at some point and laughed, how ridiculous he looked, how dangerous it was to be driving one handed. It took him double the amount of time it would normally have because he just. Had to keep stopping. There’s no way he made that journey in a solid drive.

But also I think he probably didn’t have a plan before he was driving. He knew the Southeastern district were holding the Christmas banquet that night, but that was a secondary thought. His first worry was getting out of the nest. His second worry was whether he was going to kill himself or not. The reason he didn’t just do it? David. The thing that pulled Kevin back off that metaphorical ledge was Coach David Wymack. The only other people who knew about his moms letter were Tetsuji, Jean and Riko. Kevin knew well that none of them would be calling up to break the news to Wymack if he died, and David would grow old and die without ever having known that Kevin Day was his son. David was the reason he was risking everything on busy streets and highways and whatever roads he drove too fast or too slow on.

So, he’s in Virginia without a plan. He doesn’t know what hotel David’s in, if he’s even still in Virginia, if the foxes even bothered to show up. So he looks at as many hotels as he could find. He narrows down the list by looking at the ones he knew the Class I teams frequented, and he called the all pretending to be David, looking for his rooms number. After the fifth call he found it.

Think about Kevin’s anxiety in the elevator, hand throbbing, not profusely bleeding anymore, but every minute that passes is a percentage off the chances he has at keeping his hand and playing again. His heart is racing, his head heavy, every fibre in his being screaming.

David calls out a “Hold your fucking horses, give me a minute!” when Kevin knocks on his door a second time after his first knock received no answer. David opens the door with Abby just behind him, and his face falls so quickly it could’ve hit the floor.

“Kevin.” He looks him up and down, not yet noticing the t-shirt covered in blood he had wrapped around his hand. “Kevin Day. Mind telling me what the fuck you’re doing here?”

Abby pushes past him to unwrap Kevin’s hand. It must be some nurses instinct, to be instantly drawn to looking for an injury on a person. Kevin pulled it back as gently as he could, looking up and down the hall before asking so quietly it almost couldn’t be heard. “Can I come in?”

David makes small talk with Kevin as he shuts the hotel door behind him. What would he say? What could he possibly say to superstar Kevin Day, who he’d only officially met as a baby, when his mother was alive and he wasn’t destined for Court? He probably tried to make meaningless, awkward small talk until Abby shut him up to ask Kevin what happened. He just started to cry. Small whimpers into chesty, heaving, heavy cries, his body teetering on the edge of a panic attack. David had seen his foxes in bad ways before. He’d seen one of his kids convulsing on a stretcher after an accidental overdose, or a fox who’d choked on their own vomit after an intentional one. He’d seen his foxes in their worst moments, panic attacks and withdrawals, anger and sadness, pulling their hair out and on the brink of death. Something about this was the same but different. When Seth first overdosed on the team it was a cry for help, or when Janie admitted herself to the psych ward for a week, it was because she wanted to try. When Damien asked for a second, and third, and fourth chance David gave it to him because that was what Foxes deserved. It took him a moment of watching Kevin heave, snot and spit running down his chin, his hair falling over his face, his body shaking with anxiety, to remember that Kevin wasn’t a fox. Kevin was a Raven, and by god, that was so much worse.

I think we all know that Abby cares for her foxes like she’s their mother, but Kevin is just different. Abby had been seeing David long enough to know how much Kayleigh Day had really meant to him, and how much it hurt to watch Kevin do her proud. Now Kevin was sitting in front of her, his hand practically lifeless, his heart pouring out of every place it could. She tried not to look at David’s face as he paced the room, watching her patch up Kevin’s hand as best she could. Kevin only started to calm down when she handed him a bottle of Diazepam and some water.

And then Kevin whispers that Riko did it. David almost didn’t hear him. He nearly asked for him to repeat it until it hit him. Riko did it. Riko smashed the hand of his number two so badly it would take a long time for him to play again, if he even wanted to. Abby sent him a deathly glare when he mumbled to himself; “I’ll kill that little jumped up piece of shit”.

The rest is history; Kevin passes out not long after, David carries him to the bus, and they drive to the stadium to pick up the foxes. Kevin sleeps the rest of the way until the sun is starting to rise and they’re back in South Carolina. Kevin doesn’t stop crying on and off again for a couple days, and Abby had to hold him back from escaping more than once. After watching his anxiety consume him, and when he told her none of the Ravens were allowed to be medicated in any manner, she got him a script for some quick-acting anxiety meds for him to keep. It took him a week of energy-sapping panic attacks before she could convince him to actually take them as he needed them.

David took out a loan five days after Kevin had arrived into his care. He called Edgar Allan on the sixth, and the seventh, and the eighth day. By the ninth day Kevin was released from the grips of Ravens. By the tenth day they had started the process of making Kevin Day a fox. I suppose it’s for the best Riko fucked up his hand so badly, isn’t it? At least it gave him the ability to fit into the eligibility criteria for being a Fox. Welcome to the club, Kevin Day, and prepare to be gravely disappointed.

[i-did]

hey! I hope those aftg asks aren’t getting tiring lol but I was wondering if you had any thoughts on the recent fandom treatment of Kevin, which seems to be mainly seeing him as a victim mistreated both in canon by the other foxes & by nora himself? Like I remember in the earlier days of aftg (like maybe around 2016? 2017??) there definitely wasn’t this kind of focus or view of Kevin & I feel like he was treated with somewhat more nuance then? And this could be related to the growing hate for Nora since then but you don’t see people say the same things about the other foxes?? This is a very messy ask lol but I’m genuinely so confused about this trend esp because Kevin seems to be the only fox (as far ive seen anyways) that people are holding up as a victim w/o any nuance

I have a lot of fun answering these, I just sometimes take a minute to get to them lol

Okay so I definitely know what you're talking about with the Kevin thing. The first major factor is that AFTG has finished coming you years ago, and Nora has not actively engaged with the fandom since 2016. I came around into AFTG in 2017 as a reader, and looking at the fanart. Mostly by then you see the race headcanons locked into place and the beginning of the split between fanon and canon. Without more canon, fanon content starts to develop as whoever is more influential the fan creators (fic authors, fan artists) start to do things that trend. As a time passes in a fandom, it tends to split into niches, people who see things a certain way and want to see more of that follow each other and gain followers who agree with them. 

There is definitely a Kevin centric niche that thinks those things. I don’t think there was as much focus in general on Kevin back in 2017, but I also was pretty new. But there were no extreme Anti-Andrew fans, back then it was “you are either a fan of Nicky or a fan of Aaron.” People didnt have “dni choking apologists” on their blogs. 

I think choking discourse is a good example of the rise of Kevin. Andrew must fall for Kevin to rise. There are kandreil fans that genuinely like all three, and some ace/aro Kevin fans that like him just as he is, but a lot of Kevin centric content I see now on tumblr is about how Andrew is the real villain of AFTG for choking Kevin, despite Kevin violently choking Neil in book 1. 

Back in 2018 they weren't pitted against the other and I think the whole “you can only like one character or the other” thing is stupid imo. I like Nicky more than Aaron, but I still think they're both interesting characters. Ive seen a lot of “Kevin was only a victim” takes, and in fact got cyber bullied for a while by some people who thought I was too mean to Kevin in some of my HC by implying he also had some power in the nest and likely hurt others, and that he feels guilt over it. :/ but there is also a similar niche with “you can't blame Aaron for his homophobia, his mom was abusive, and she likely made him that way.”

It's the most similar discourse trend I've seen to the Kevin discourse. It’s a similar lack of nuance, and I think people inflict it their favorite character because they don't want to have a ‘problematic fav.’ Aaron is canonly homophobic, Neil says directly after him and Andrew ‘come out’ to the others, that he was waiting to see the same grief Aaron gave Nicky over his sexuality. It doesn't mean he can't be also a good character or a person someone likes, in fact well written characters have dimensions and flaws. 

Which that whole mess is similar to the whole Kevin thing. I think people fall in love with the idea of Nora’s characters, or maybe the fanon characters–but not the real characters. Which is also why they say the author hates them, because they got written to do bad things or not be in the story as much, they defend these characters as if they were real people who need defending, need to be saved from being erased. These characters become “their character.”

I think this also happens because people kin characters and identify with them a lot, so when I said “Kevin was in a position in power in the nest too, even in second place” and then receive threats for how I personally hurt someone who's a CSA survivor because of my Kevin HC I'm like (o – o). I think these people project so hard onto Kevin and design him in their mind, they feel as if character flaw HCs or depictions of Kevin struggling and being mean are personal insults, or at least very personally insulting. And I don't want to sound like an ass, but like my Kevin isn't the same as their Kevin, my Kevin is my Kevin. 

I see skinny art of Andrew and art of Neil as white or ginger, these don’t align with my personal HC’s about them, but like that's what I chose to go with. Nora uses language that makes me believe Neil has dark auburn hair, but if people want him to be ginger idc. In canon he was written with the intent to be white, I ignore that because I think him being mixed adds more depth to his character (as well as me being tired of only white mlm, and have updated my reading list). Andrew wasn’t imagined by Nora to be fat either, but I HC him as like a mini muscle bear instead of Toby Hemingway. 

I keep the canon intent in mind to remind myself how she actually saw them and how that can color canon and how other people are allowed to see Neil as white and Andrew as skinny. Like I understand why people get annoyed over other peoples hc’s, I feel similarly sometimes. But like at the end of the day, you just gotta move out of that fandom niche and into a new one or just ignore the post.

[dayzone]

blame this on @skunked-up-kicks for commenting about childhood friends to lovers jeaneil growing up in the nest together

at first, yeah, neil has riko and kevin growing up but they’re riko&kevin

when jean comes around, jean and neil just click. of course, there’s a few months of posturing and an uncountable number of brawls between them before they let each other in, but those are just semantics

they rebel together in subtle ways to feel like they have some semblance of control and shield each other when they don’t have the energy to protect themselves

they memorize each other’s movements on court and synch better than any backliners in the game; their synchronization isn’t just on court either- the other ravens whisper about how eerie the two are, the way they move like every step, every second of the day is choreographed to a dance only they know

neil teaches jean how to pick the locks of the nest doors while jean teaches neil how to pickpocket car keys out of the other raven’s pockets; they sneak out when riko and tetsuji are out of the nest and choose a car at random to hijack for the night so jean can speed down a deserted highway while neil sticks half of his body out of the window to feel the wind rip through his hair and to holler over the bass of the music jean plays, relishing in the deep rumble of jeans laughter. at first, neil hated jeans taste in music, but after a few years he’s come to appreciate the way it drowns everything out.

the speeding and the drowning, heavy beat grinding through the speakers used to calm jean in a way nothing else could, but as he gets older he makes excuses to sneak out to drive just to see the blinding grin neil sends his way

(when they’re older, and healing, jean will drive neil to an overhang at an ungodly time in the night. they’ll sit on the grass, neil between jeans legs, leaning against his chest, and jean will hum an old french song he remembers playing on the radio that sat in his kitchen in marseilles. he’ll hum the song into neils hair, and neil will revel in the deep vibration of jeans chest against his back)

jean teaches neil french in the dark of their room, sometimes spelling words on neils skin with his fingertips

neil, being the fucking spitfire he is, still gets into fights with the ravens, even when he’s just thirteen and the shortest raven is an entire head taller than him. jean stays close whenever the anger that bubbles under neils skin boils over, when neil slams another raven into the wall hard enough to crack their teeth, when he ends up with blood on his smile after starting a brawl with another raven for checking jean just a bit too nastily; jean keeps himself pressed to neil to remind him i’m here, you’re not alone, i’m angry too, let me be your shield for once

they’re so attatched at the hip it doesn’t occur to either of them to label their relationship; they’re nathaniel and jean, number three and number four, best backliners in the history of exy and partners for life; they don’t need an unnecessary label to know where they stand, not between them

neil kisses jean for the first time when he’s sixteen, jean seventeen; they’re supposed to be watching a game in their room but all neil can focus on is the shadows jean’s eyelashes are casting on his cheeks, can only feel the way his heart speeds up just a bit every time he glances at the way jeans fingers are splayed against his thighs, thinking about the way jean played so well at practice earlier and how none of the backliners on the screen even begin to compare to jean. he taps at the freckle on the inside of jeans right wrist, a spot neils fingers always seem to gravitate towards, and when jean turns his head to neil, eyes sleepy and eyebrows questioning, neil murmurs quietly, “you know you’re my favorite, right?” and slotting his lips against jeans before he can respond

it should scare neil, the way it feels so right, the way he’s not scared at all, but he can’t when jean has his fingers ghosting against neils jaw and ribs, he can’t be scared when jean pulls neils bottom lip between his teeth languidly, sending a tremor through neil

it’s all so easy and feels so natural and neil can’t see anyone by his side other than jean

and yeah- jean still has so much anger festering in his ribs towards his parents for what they did to him, still yearns for his younger sister so strongly that it feels incapacitating sometimes, still despises the nest despite the ugly pride he has for it all, but. but he’s got nathaniel, who never left his side even when their faces were bloody and bruised because of each other’s fists those first few months, even when jean would lash out and try to isolate himself. neils always been there and the idea of neil leaving him hasn’t ever even entered his mind

their situation is fucking shit and they’ve been dealt the worst hand possible but they’ve got each other to cling to and that’s enough

[im-like-if-a-girl]

*THE* mean-girl-dean-girl's Supernatural reboot MEGAPOST!

I'm gonna stick a little "keeping reading" here because hoooooo boy, this is a very long post.

Let's start with

Plot

Season 1

Dean kills John while they are out on a hunt in a crime of passion, but Dean doesn't remember because he blacked out. Cue Dean going to Stanford to get Sam and tell him "Dad's on a hunting trip... and he hasn't been home in a couple days."

The audience doesn't know what happened to John, but slowly figures it out with Dean and Sam as Dean slowly remembers what happened that night.

The entire first season, the boys are following the trail John left and fighting monsters as well. They find out Dean was with John, Sam realizes Dean has an unreliable memory, they have heart to hearts about their childhood and the fire, they find John's body, "how could you kill Dad?" but maybe Dean didn't kill dad, whooaaaaaa, misdirection.

It was actually good ole yeller eyes (Azazel) and he made it look like Dean killed John.

Okay, now let's move on to the first episode

Not sure how the opening would work, I would like the story of the fire to be revealed over the course of the first season, but maybe the opening scene could be a little bit of an establishing character relationships and backstory, idk, I haven't thought that far yet.

I'm thinking maybe it's like, Dean gets back to a motel room covered in blood and he listens to a voicemail on his phone from John saying he was on a hunt or something, I don't really know lol.

HOWEVER

I do know that after the intro rolls, we get a scene of Sam waking up to his alarm and "Nine to Five" by Dolly Parton starts playing.

Y'all know where this is going.

Cue a montage of Sam's normal Stanford college life (him sitting through lectures, walking through the campus with friends) spliced with scenes of Dean absolutely slaughtering a nest of vampires (or some other monsters, whatever works best.)

But

Now onto

Characters!!! (And descriptions)

Dean Winchester

Some lovely person on this site made edits of Dean with platinum blond hair and it made me feel some kind of way so we're doing that, homie's gonna have platinum blond hair

Side note about the hair, later when the brothers are running from the FBI he dyes it a dirty blond/light brown (insert jackles hair color controversy here) as a disguise.

He also gets tattoos because we were robbed.

Speaking of tattoos, concept: when Dean comes back from Hell, all of his tattoos are gone. His body is a clean slate, devoid of tattoos, scars, etc. So he gets his tattoos done all over again, which he doesn't mind because he made some bad, drunk tattoo decisions in his youth.

(And before you ask, yes, he does get one for Cas, either a bee or Cas's name in enochian, something cute.)

Dean goes to therapy after Sam gets sent to the Cage.

It's actually court mandated because he got in trouble, lol, he would never go to therapy on his own.

Along with the hair, Dean gets to be the grade A twunk we all know he is.

Sam Winchester

His hair gets longer in every scene he's in

No jk, but imagine

King of Microaggressions

Sam starts off like the sweetheart he is in season 1 but in later seasons he starts enjoying killing a little too much...

It's that demon blood, ba-by!!!

He brings up issues of morality to Dean, i.e. killing monsters who aren't hurting anyone. (Yes I know this is contradictory to my previous statement, but these two facets of Sam can and will coexist.)

Sam and Jess's relationship is explored further, meaning we'll need to start with a different inciting incident, but that's fine, I think everyone can agree fridgings are *(thumbs down)*

Sam doesn't truly know what happened the night of the fire until later, and then he understands why Dean is so protective of him.

Jess

She gets to live beyond the first episode

She is also trans

No, I don't feel like I have to explain myself and I won't 💜

She urges Sam to join Dean in a search for their brother, kind of gets pulled into the hunter lifestyle by association lol.

She dies on a rusty nail after fighting vampires on a routine hunt with Sam

No jk!!!

But imagine....

She's amazing and I love her and Lucifer also uses her as leverage against Sam and possesses her because I think that'd be cool.

She supports Sam 100% and also she and Dean are buddies, pals if you will.

She meets Cas Thee El and immediately she Knows, that is a homosexual.

She dies still so that we can have a Saileen Endgame but she's not dying the first episode or in a fridging. Not on my watch.

Castiel

He gets to keep his raw, light-fixture-exploding power.

I want more of that "I pulled you out of hell, I can throw you back in" energy except over dumb shit like Dean not cleaning up after himself.

He looks like a Dilf in every scene he's in, yeah, that's right, dilf with a capital D for *(GUNSHOTS)* *(gets sent to horny jail)*

Claire

She gets pink hair

And more time with Cas

And maybe a nose piercing

Feel like she should be able to kill a couple angels onscreen, punch a couple homophobes

She gets to meet Jack and teaches him swears and fun slang words.

She deserves it.

Jack

I says "that's my baby and I'm proud."

Jack starts off as a baby, but like Amara he grows up super quickly.

Like, baby to 11 year old in a couple days or less.

This is because Jack's emotional age on the show is on par with that of a 5th grader.

It's at this point when he's a young kid that he runs away from the Bunker and shenanigans ensue.

It's also at this point that Dean threatens to k*ll him.

(Still not sure if I want that in my Supernatural (threatened infanticide? In my Supernatural? It's more likely than you think) but we'll see. We'll see.)

Throughout a majority of season 13, Jack is like an 11 y.o. kid

Season 14 he's like a 16 y.o. teenager

Season 15 he's 21, you get the picture.

Listen, I love Alex Calvert a lot. He's great.

But Jack is a child and should be a child.

Kelly Kline

Kelly, baby, stay right where you are, you're perfect.

Eileen

SHE DOESN'T DIE

SHE GETS TO BE IN THE FINALE BECAUSE SHE'S AMAZING AND I LOVE HER.

BLURRY WIFE WHO? I ONLY KNOW SAILEEN ENDGAME!

She teaches Claire and Jack swears in sign-language. Castiel is not impressed.

John

J*hn W*nchester stans, DNI.

He's dead.

We only see him in flashbacks and only sometimes hear his voice in voice overs.

He's not "down the road" from Dean in Heaven, in fact he instead gets to wander around in some Purgatory like Hell for the rest of his time :)

People who get to say "fuck" on the show:

Cas (but only Once)

Jody

Bobby

Now onto other things

I want more of

Ghostfacers

(they need more screentime because I love them)

Dean/Benny

We know they had a thing.

They definitely had a thing.

Demon Dean

Again, I feel like more should've been done with this. All that build up for what, 2 episodes? was not utilized well at all.

Dean's Bisexuality

Straight Dean truthers DNI, my Supernatural is a show about love and being true to yourself

You think Supernatural is a show about 2 straight brothers fighting monsters?

Naw bitch, this is a show about the Gay Experience

He will get to have relations with men on this show.

Of course, only after John dies does he, y'know, display it. Maybe he kisses Cas on his dad's grave just to fuck John over, make him roll in grave.

We all agree John would be/is a homophobe piece of shit, right?

Okay, glad we're on the same page.

Dads

3 men and a baby with Jack is what I'm saying.

I love it when the Trio are father-figures to younger troubled characters they see themselves in, even better if it's like reluctant-but-loving father figure, oh, that trope gets me every time :'^)

Dadstiel and DadDean are my favorites, but I like it when Sam plays "Uncle Sam" to kids too lol.

"Fellas, is it gay to want a tight knit family with your husband, his son, his vessel's daughter, your brother, his wife, your cop mother figure and her wife and their adopted daughters? Asking for a friend."

Garth

Biggest flaw of Supernatural was underutilizing Garth.

I will never not be bitter that Garth was only in like, 7 episodes out of the whole 15 season series.

Every episode with Garth gets immediately 5 times better.

I love Garth.

Follow ups on characters who had entire episodes featured around them and then just... vanished???

This is mostly about Jesse, the magic kid whose imagination ruled an entire town like, his daddy was a demon and nothing came of that kid??? Only one episode about him?? No follow up???

KID CAN MANIPULATE REALITY AND WE'RE NOT GONNA GET A FOLLOW UP ON THAT?????

Uh, there was that one episode with Ennis the guy whose girlfriend was killed by a monster? I think?? Who we never see again, that was weird.

Tamara from season 3, episode 1.

And of course-

Cassie

She was so cool, and then we never saw her again :////

She gets to be a badass.

Religious imagery

As a former Catholic school student who has become for the most part, disillusioned with religion, religious imagery in TV shows like Supernatural make my brain go "brrrrrr."

Fun episodes!!!

Like, after season 6 or so, there's a drop in funny episodes

I'm talking Changing Channels, The French Mistake type stuff. (Scoobynatural is an outlier and should not be counted.)

So anyway

In my version we would have more fun episodes

I'm thinking

GENDER-SWAP EPISODE, BABY!!

(why they didn't do that in the original, we'll never know.)

An episode where Dean gets to wear eyeliner

That's it, end of post.

I want less

Racism

Yeah I feel like this is self explanatory, nearly every reoccurring character in SPN is white, and black side characters normally die in the episode they first appear in, or they'll be featured as a villain (Uriel, Raphael, Billie, etc)

Also there's a lot of... uh... asian fetishism featured in the show (what with "Busty Asian Beauties) that's really gross, also Kevin was a bit of a stereotype...

Also also it's super yucky how they kill the gods from other religions like???? Uh??? That's super disrespectful, let's not do that????

I know Supernatural is like, inherently racist because monsters are a separate race that are seen as some dangerous "other" that must be eradicated by hunters in a form of genocide-

Okay we won't get into that but

Still

Stop killing all your POC

Fridgings/Unecessary murders of female characters

I know Supernatural starts with a fridging, so this will be a hard thing to remedy, but

One death that really pissed me off was the death of Charlie

Yeah, that was pointless and we're not doing that. Charlie gets to live and be an awesome aunt to Jack.

And also Claire

Charlie Bradbury Superiority

Charlie and Garth get to meet because they're nerd/geek solidarity.

British Men of Letters

I fucking hate these guys

They're "litcherally" the worst.

The worst part is that the actors they have playing the British AREN'T. EVEN. BRITISH.

And you can tell

Uh, and that's all for now, I'll add more later.

tag list for people who liked my "if this post gets one like I'll post my SPN reboot masterpost" post.

@darianyunidi @sarasidlesaid @crazybananaalpaca @playfulpanthress @ultfreakme @fififeelsmellow @heller-char @luna8eaton @princessmeganfire @insanebot109 @queenofnightsnow @mongoose-underthehouse

Thank you for the support, hope the wait was worth it.

[nekojitachan]

Okay, so, the urge to write this hit me (maybe in part because of the new fic). Though I’ve been thinking of it off and on since I wrote it... two or three years ago? I finally got back to it. Raven!Andrew soulmate fic with Raven!Neil (Nathaniel). First part can be found here (I managed to find it).

Uhm, warnings for the Nest (vaguely) and for threats of non-con (that are not carried out). Mention of Nathan, too.

******

Andrew felt a manic, medicated smile spread across his face when Aaron chose not to sit next to him in the Intro to Biology class they’d both signed up for; he was tempted to throw a pen at his twin’s head before he slumped down in his seat and barely paid any attention to what was a blow-off class for him. As soon as the bell rang, he was out the door and waited in the hallway for Aaron to come out. When his brother cautiously stepped outside, he grabbed onto Aaron’s left arm and dragged him aside.

“What, no brotherly love today?” Andrew asked with a bright (false) grin. “Do I stink? I swear I showered after morning practice.” The other students gave them a wide berth, especially when they caught sight of Andrew’s black and red track jacket that all the Ravens had to wear outside of the Nest.

Aaron cursed beneath his breath as he shook his head, then switched to German. “Look, it’s for the best, okay? Just leave me alone.”

“Why?” Andrew’s eyes narrowed as he thought about Riko. “Did someone say something to you?”

Aaron ran his right hand through his hair, which was shaggier than Andrew’s (than his ‘nice’, Raven-styled haircut). “Do any of the other students talk to you? Sit next to you?” When Andrew scoffed at that, Aaron scowled. “It’s not because you’re an asshole, but because everyone here leaves the Ravens alone, it’s like you’re part of some special clique and they don’t like anyone messing with the status quo even if they’re a Raven’s brother. So just… call me or something, maybe we’ll get together on the weekends someplace away from campus, but I can’t chance losing this scholarship. I’m sorry.” Aaron gave him a casual wave as he walked away.

Andrew stood there for a minute as bitterness filled him at how easily Aaron cast him aside, focused on himself as always. It didn’t matter that Andrew had crossed the country for him, had risked his own life to get rid of Tilda for him, had joined the Ravens… well, partially for him.

The asshole hadn’t even managed to get hold of any alcohol for him yet.

He was late to his next class, an American History one, but the professor didn’t bat an eye at his arrival even though she’d chewed out another student last week for doing the same thing. Andrew barely paid attention to what was being said again, confident that he’d pass everything like he always did.

Once the class was over, it was time to head back to the Nest, what joy. He ran into Ben on his way to the stadium and basically ignored his ‘partner’ the entire time. Ben was long used to it by then, and appeared happy when they came across other Ravens, ones who would actually talk to the sophomore.

They spent time before afternoon practice working on their class assignments, which never took long for Andrew to complete. He spent the rest of the break reading through the ridiculously long email Nicky had sent him (why did his cousin bother now that he was back in Germany) and glancing through the stats on the Northeastern Huskies, the team the Ravens were to play that Friday. The Huskies weren’t in the overall top three for the NCAA Division I, but they were for the Ravens’ region so it was considered an important game.

Well, by everyone but Andrew.

Practice was the usual ordeal, was Riko acting as if he was the boss of everyone as he barked out drills and plays, as he expected to be thrown the ball as if he was the only striker out on court. It was Tetsuji watching everything with his emotionless, beady eyes as if he was a starving vulture, quick to lash out with his cane at the slightest mistake. It was Nathaniel acting as if Andrew didn’t exist at all.

Andrew was so tempted to say to hell with them all and head off campus to find the nearest liquor store, but he wouldn’t risk Nathaniel showing up the next day beaten again, or Aaron losing his scholarship.

(He didn’t care about Riko or Tetsuji fucking with him, was more than strong enough to handle whatever they threw at him, but refused to let others be punished in his place.)

Instead, he remained in the goal and blocked almost all of Riko’s shots on it just to annoy the asshole.

(He thought he saw Nathaniel smile once when Riko stalked off in anger, but the expression was gone a moment later.)

The rest of the week was spent with Tetsuji and Riko pushing the Ravens to be perfect (or damn near it) by Friday’s game, to memorize the Huskies’ stats and previous games. Considering that it was only the second game of the season, Andrew took to glaring at the soul mark hidden beneath his left armband; he didn’t believe in regret, not exactly… but he had some rather negative thoughts over Riko and Kevin bringing Nathaniel with them when then came to recruit Andrew.

The campus was festooned with black and red (remove the latter and it would fit Andrew’s mood perfectly), with students wearing Ravens jerseys. Most wore Riko’s and Kevin’s, but Andrew rolled his eyes when he saw Aaron sport his; the moron gave him a brief wave and a nod in acknowledgement, then went to sit with a group of what appeared to be new friends.

How nice for him.

Andrew felt his lips twitch then tug back into a mirthless grin when the loose sleeves of the black and red jersey that Aaron was wearing revealed that the black mark on Aaron’s left forearm was still a shapeless blob, that his twin hadn’t found his soulmate yet. Ah, so only Andrew had been inflicted with that particular curse as of yet, though Aaron was like Nicky and actually looked forward to finding his ‘other half’.

The fool.

Soon enough it was time to return to the Nest, to suffer through yet another recap of the Huskies’ players and probable game strategy (which he’d long ago memorized) before a quick lunch and then ordered to get ready for the game. Andrew noticed that Nathaniel wasn’t with the team for once, and managed to hold on to his curiosity until he noticed a man who appeared similar to the young backliner (his soulmate) stride along the outer ring; he was dressed in an expensive suit which was tailored to fit a muscular build, his dark red hair stylishly cut short (and lacking any type of curl), his eyes the same arresting pale blue as Nathaniel’s. Yet they were utterly lacking of emotion when they glanced out at court… and seemed to linger in Andrew’s direction for a few seconds.

Andrew nudged Ben’s left foot. “Who was that?”

Ben appeared stunned that he’d been asked a question. “Eh? Who?” He glanced in the direction Andrew nodded and frowned. “Oh, that’s Nate’s dad, he shows up now and then, usually on a big game day. Comes before the game starts and always leaves right after.” His frown deepened as he gazed at his racquet. “I don’t think they get along well, Nate’s always withdrawn after his visits and….”

Andrew did some frowning of his own. “And?”

Ben jumped a little at his question and pitched his voice lower. “I wouldn’t say anything, but you’re his soulmate. You’ve seen his scars.” Andrew’s jaw clenched at that statement. “Sometimes after his dad visits, he has a new one.” Ben pointedly looked away after that.

It took a minute or two for Andrew to get the urge to go after the man and bash his head in with his racquet under control (the fact that the abusive bastard had been followed by obvious bodyguards helped just the tiniest bit).

(It also raised the question of who the hell was Nathaniel’s father, what was he doing at Castle Evermore, and why Tetsuji allowed him to abuse one of his most talented players?)

Andrew was distracted from thoughts of violence by Tetsuji ordering the Ravens to warm up and participate in drills as Evermore slowly filled up with eager fans. That wasn’t entirely true as he did feel inclined to smash his racquet into one preening Riko Moriyama, busy mugging for the cameras and fans, and yet again wondered just how incompetent the doctor was who put him on his ‘lovely’ meds.

Maybe Aaron could get a nice lawsuit out of him eventually ‘snapping’ when the inanity of it all finally drove him to bash everyone’s heads in.

A boy with a heavy stick, a ton of issues and forever increasing anger management problems could dream, couldn’t he?

He was actually grateful for the damn game starting, just because it meant that soon it would be over. Andrew was slated to guard the goal in the second half, and so got to sit bored on the bench while a bunch of idiots ran around on the court.

At least, until a Huskie sub striker (#17, Donaldson, junior) seemed to grow annoyed at Moreau blocking him from the Ravens’ goal and swung his racquet into the backliner’s side, right below where the protective padding ended. Part of Andrew nodded in approval of the nasty and effective blow while another was annoyed that he wasn’t the one to land it.

Oh, and that it delayed the game’s end while Moreau was checked and carried off the court.

It was clear that the Huskies hoped to take advantage of the Ravens losing their number one backliner to an injury, but the team was composed of some of the best Exy players in the division. Hebig and Federov managed to do a decent job of defense in Moreau’s place, so Andrew didn’t have to work too hard once he was out in the goal; he only let a couple shots through, with the final score being 12-7.

The stadium erupted into cacophony when the final buzzer rang out, with the Ravens smug over their victory and the Huskies disgruntled. Andrew didn’t give a damn, he merely wanted to shower then sleep, done with Exy for the time being.

Riko and Kevin were expected to do their preening for the camera bullshit, but Andrew noticed how an excited Federov went up to Riko before the asshole left and talked to him, a huge leer spreading across his face when Riko nodded.

Something about that expression made Andrew’s skin crawl (it wasn’t the sweat drying on it or his drenched uniform); it sunk in when he was in the shower scrubbing clean.

Federov’s expression resembled Drake’s when he’d come into Andrew’s room at night.

By the time he rinsed the soap away, dried off and put on clothes, Federov was nowhere to be found. Andrew didn’t see any of the male Ravens missing (other than Riko, Kevin and Moreau), so that left the women and… and Nathaniel.

Shit, Nathaniel, whom Federov would stare at from time to time. Whom Federov would try to talk to, but Moreau always interrupted him and pulled his partner away. Andrew thought it was just Moreau being a dick, but now….

He broke into a run towards Nathaniel’s room, and was grateful for once that there weren’t any locks on the doors in the Nest as he threw the door open.

Federov had a struggling Nathaniel pinned to the bed, hand raised to hit him (hit him again, judging from Nathaniel’s bruised face and bleeding lip). The bastard looked up in time for Andrew to punch him on the cheek, which knocked him aside, and yelped in pain as he was hauled off the bed and thrown to the floor, where his ribs were stomped on twice. Hard.

“Stah- ah! Stahhp,” the bastard screeched as Andrew kicked him once more for good measure, only to find himself pulled off balance by Nathaniel.

“Stop it,” Nathaniel said, his voice weak and a bit slurred from the split lip. “You’ll get in trouble.”

“Like I give a shit.” Yet Andrew found himself unable to look away from his battered soulmate, from the hopelessness in Nathaniel’s eyes and the blood on his face; while he was distracted, Federov scurried out of the room like a four-legged crab and slammed the door shut behind him. Andrew clicked his tongue at the thought of having to track down the bastard to slit his throat before he returned his attention back to Nathaniel. “Why’d you stop me?”

“Because Riko would be mad,” Nathaniel said as he slumped back on the bed. “It’ll just make things worse.”

“Worse than someone raping you?” Nathaniel flinched at that but didn’t say anything, just closed his eyes and huddled into a small ball, his black sweatshirt torn to reveal some of the awful scars on the upper right part of his chest, including one which looked like an iron burn on his shoulder.

Andrew felt something turbulent scour through his chest at the sight, felt it rail against the drug in his blood, and spun around on his left heel then stalked into the small bathroom attached to the room where he wet a couple washcloths with cold water and grabbed a towel. When he returned to the bedroom, Nathaniel watched him with a wary gaze as he approached the bed.

“For your face,” he said as he held out the washcloths. “You might want to do something about the swelling.”

Nathaniel was still for a few seconds before he uncoiled enough to accept them. “Jean will-“ He winced when he must have realized that his partner was stuck for the night in the medical department.

“Will what?” Andrew prodded as he smiled, jealousy and anger straining at the chemical chains the damn drug forced upon his impulses. “What’s he gonna do, hmm?”

“Yeah.” Nathaniel wrapped his arms around himself and appeared younger than seventeen years old. “There’s… there’s icepacks in the minifridge.”

Andrew glanced around and found the fridge on the other side of the room, by what he assumed was Moreau’s desk; when he opened it, he found it stocked with a couple bottles of water and several icepacks. Huh, seemed they were prepared for a few booboos, how interesting.

He went back to the bathroom and grabbed a couple hand towels to wrap the icepacks in, and returned to the room to find Nathaniel gingerly wiping the blood from his face. Once it was cleaned up, he handed over the icepacks and got up to grab the large sweatshirt (Moreau’s) which was draped over the back of the nearby chair and threw it on Nathaniel’s bed. “I’m spending the night here.”

Nathaniel’s eyes (well, the right one, the left was swelling shut) widened at that. “I’m fine! You can-“

“I’m not leaving in case the asshole decides to come back,” Andrew stated as he dropped down on Moreau’s bed. “You willing to be smacked around some more?”

That earned him a virulent glare. “You’re the asshole. And how do I know you’re not gonna… gonna take his place, huh?” For all of Nathaniel’s harsh words and nasty looks, his slender fingers plucked at the sweatshirt he’d draped over himself as if it was a safety blanket.

Someone didn’t have a lot of faith in him, did they? Andrew didn’t blame his soulmate, not with everything he learned about the Nest with each passing day. “Because I’m not like anyone you’ve met before,” he said as he kicked off his sneakers and stretched on top of the duvet.

Nathaniel scoffed loud enough that his throat had to ache. “They all say things like that,” he mumbled as he pulled on the sweatshirt, his gaze downcast. “That they’re special, that they’ll treat you nice, that it’ll be wonderful.” He rocked back and forth once the shirt was on, his eyes unfocused as if he was remembering something and the words sounding rote as if they were someone else’s. “It’s nothing but lies.”

Andrew remembered Nathaniel’s father, the man with the emotionless eyes, and wondered if Nathaniel’s parents were soulmates as well. He wondered if they were one of the pairs who served as cautionary tales, as reminders that not all soulmates had happy endings.

He wondered if that’s what Nathaniel had been talking about when he accused Andrew of being just like ‘him’ when Andrew had let his frustration slip, back in the breakroom.

(Why Nathaniel was so comfortable with a man who wasn’t his soulmate.)

Andrew once again struggled with his drug-addled emotions, with the urge to break things, to stomp out of the small, black-walled room and the Nest and Edgar Allan, to carve off the damn soul mark from his arm and… and the thought of leaving Nathaniel defenseless stopped him cold. Instead, he clicked his tongue and rolled over onto his side until he faced the wall. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

Nathaniel muttered something in Japanese, but got up a few minutes later to go into the bathroom, and several minutes after that shuffled back onto his bed and turned off the light. Andrew lay on the bed and finally relaxed when he heard his soulmate’s breathing slow about half an hour later.

He didn’t get much sleep that night, not when he waited for Riko or Federov to break into the room to take Nathaniel from him.

Nathaniel gave him an incredulous look in the morning when all he did was climb off Moreau’s bed, go into the bathroom to take a piss and then leave, desperate for coffee and his medication (not necessarily in that order). He stopped by his room first to take a pill and was on his way to one of the break rooms for caffeine when he had the dubious joy of running into a smiling Riko.

Warning bells went off immediately in his sleep-deprived head, because if Riko appeared happy about something? It rarely was good for anyone but Riko.

“Good morning,” Riko all but purred as he blocked Andrew moving down the hall.

“Not until I have my coffee,” Andrew muttered as he stared toward the break room, determined to walk past the asshole.

“Ah, not quite yet.” Unfortunately, Riko was nimble of foot and one hell of a determined asshole. “I want to talk to you about last night.” When all Andrew did was grunt in response, Riko’s left eye twitched and his smile slipped slightly. “You may be pleased to know that Jean has been declared fit to play in this Friday’s game, after a couple days of light practice. That’s good because Lev will need a few days to recover from your… disagreement last night.”

Andrew focused his attention on the manipulative asshole. “From me ‘disagreeing’ with him raping Nathaniel?”

Riko’s nose scrunched as if he’d heard something disagreeable. “You’re new to the team so you don’t understand how certain things work. And that’s how if someone does very well during a game? They get something nice as a reward.”

Rage flooded through Andrew, made his hands twitch to wrap around Riko’s throat at that ‘reward’ bit despite the latest pill; he only resisted as he thought about Aaron. “Nathaniel isn’t a ‘reward’,” he forced past teeth clenched tight.

The look bestowed upon him was one of immense pity. “There’s so much you don’t know, rookie, including how wrong you are about that.” When Andrew’s hands clenched into fists, Riko wisely took a step back. “But that’s not to say that he can’t be your reward, right? After all, he’s your soulmate,” Riko taunted.

“I don’t-“ About to spit on Riko’s offer, something in Andrew made him stop. “What do you mean?” Was this a way to keep Nathaniel safe? Out of Federov’s reach?

Riko’s smile took on a predatory edge. “I’ll admit, I was skeptical when Kevin claimed you were this amazing goalkeeper, but I’ve seen your ability.” Now the smile was wiped away by something resembling annoyance. “When you bother, that is. So here is what I’m proposing. You shut down the goal while you’re out on court during the game? Nathaniel is yours.”

Andrew was quiet as he thought about that, as he thought about his soulmate being safe. “I can’t always guarantee a complete shutdown, not against some teams.” When Riko opened his mouth to argue, he held up his hand. “Up to three goals, and only during the top three teams,” he bargained. It meant he’d have to push himself, would have to work for it (dammit)… but if it meant that Nathaniel would be safe….

He was such an idiot, wasn’t he? No matter how smart he thought he was, how he’d learned his lesson the hard way, here he was willing to bleed out for a pretty face and wide blue eyes.

(For someone who might be as fucked up as him.)

(For his other half.)

“Two goals,” Riko countered, “and Nathaniel is all yours, no one else is to touch him.” Then he laughed, the sound more cruel than amused. “Well, by a Raven at least.”

“He’s mine,” Andrew bit out as he stepped into Riko’s personal space.

There was a flash of fear in the asshole’s eyes before he flashed his usual wide grin and stepped back. “There’s pre-existing claims on our dear Nate, best get used to it.” Riko gave a mocking laugh as he walked away. “You’re so out of your league, Doe.”

Andrew brushed aside the reference to his previous life as he stared figurative daggers into the asshole’s back (oh for them to be real). Once Riko was out of sight, he headed to the break room for a much-deserved mug (or three) of coffee.

It was when he was on his second refill when he realized that he desperately needed answers, and that they most likely would only come from one of his least liked Ravens – Moreau.

*******

So now I’m trying to figure out - is the Perfect Court 1-10 or 1-9???? Obviously when I wrote this, I thought it was 1-9, but I’ve seen so much artwork since then that shows Andrew as ‘10′ so....

Probably back to the new fic unless another prompt/old fic snatches my attention. Though I’m sure I’ll get back to this at some point because ANDREW AND JEAN.

[neqtunes]

I Will ft. Jeaneil

Jeaneil. That’s it.

Summary: Back in the nest where Neil decided to be kidnapped. Neil sprains his leg on court, but Riko forces him to continue to play, making it worse. At the end, Neil drops dead on the floor, knowing he has to go back to Rikos room with more pain to come. He keeps forgetting about the one person that was always there for him while he was in the Nest: Jean Moreau.

It was unfortunate for Neil to be here

The more he played, the more his shoulder felt as though it was about to fall off

Just as Neil was slowing down, he was immediately shouldered, throwing him into the walls of the court, his helmet making a noise as it connects with the inner walls and a ringing starts to form in the base of his ears

That wasn’t the worst part - the worst part was as he was slammed by the Ravens, his ankle betrays him and goes in the opposite direction

He hears a crack and he tries to contain in a scream, opening his mouth and letting out a silent yell of pain

Neil falls on all four, his leg erupting with so much pain that it shot a whole nerve up his leg

He knew that it was only sprained, the crack wasn’t his bones, but just a pop that was similar to cracking your knuckles

He hated this

He hated every passing second, every passing minute and every passing hour that he had to stay in this hell hole, but he was doing this for a cause that was greater then his own bones. He wanted to be with the foxes and keep them safe even if it puts him in more danger

The slices in his arm already felt like hell from Rikos fun time when he was in his room

The other Ravens weren’t helping with his situation, although the cuts were healing, they’d open cause of the harassment that the Ravens would force on him

Hitting him with Raquets, pushing him, tripping him

Neil himself was surprised at how long he lasted without breaking any bones

But right now, his left ankle was done, it felt fucked, it felt swollen and he felt like throwing up

His body was flaming, but what was even worse was the shouting that came with the ringing in his ears

“Nathaniel, get the fuck up; you two, get him up, now.”

Two pairs of hands grab his shoulders roughly, forcing him up and out of his crawling position

He can see Riko through his helmet and, noticed how his eyes wrinkled up, he was in fact smiling and Neil knew he was also the person who fucked up his ankle

It hurt to walk, it hurt to stand, but the player to his right shoves him forward, and he accidentally steps hard on his sprained foot

A shock run up his leg and Neil pressed himself not to fall

He was forced to play for the entire game with a limp, and was pushed around even more

He can feel Rikos eyes on him every time he was on his knees; he was enjoying this

When practice was finally over, he was thrown to the ground one last time by a random backliner while they chuckled and walked off

This time, Neil didn’t keep his mouth shut and let out a loud groan as he flips himself to face the stadiums roof

He felt trapped

He loved the court, it was the only place that allowed him to breath and keep himself up, he played exy as if his life depended on it, but in here - in the nest - he never knew he’d feel so clastraphobic in such an open space

“Get up.”

Neil takes his helmet off with a struggle and looks up at who was speaking to him, but the only French Bastard in this place was none other then the famous Jean Moreau, number 3; backliner

“You have to get up some day.”

Now Jean said that in English which made Neil look up

“I’m not helping you if you don’t ask for it.”

Neils head hits the ground which was a bad idea since he already felt a migraine forming in the base of his head

Throughout his experience in this shithole, he did in fact get closer with Jean, but Neil didn’t know whether that should have been a good thing or a bad thing

He can see how frightened Jean was when he was close to Riko and Neils bad attitude didn’t help his situation

“Help me,” Neil whispers out, breathing heavily and he saw Jean roll his eyes before crouching down next to Neil

“They are probably done with the showers by now. Get up.” Jean helps Neil up and Neil let out a yelp

“My ankle.”

“Yea I know, your limp was extremely noticeable and a lot of the others took advantage of it.”

Jean was never the talkative type, but he was starting to grow on Neil and Neils French accent sometimes slipped out as he spoke

As Jean helped Neil to the change room, Neils arm around Jeans shoulders dropped as he sits on a bench inside the change room

Jean leaves right after Neil sat in the empty change room

Typical, Neil had to work his way around himself, and he was never normally alone in the change-room, this was more of a one time thing

As Neil struggled to take off most of his armour, he hears the door open and goes into instant panic mode, refusing to turn around as his muscles tense

“It’s just me, sit down.”

Neil turns to his right as Jean looks at him with a tilt of his head, but what caught Neil’s eye was the first aid kit

“Let me see your ankle and your arms, Riko isn’t quiet about his adventures with you.”

“Get out.”

“No.”

Neil reluctantly sits down and avoids eye contact with Jean

Neil realizes his shirt was off, but Jean wasn’t staring at the numerous amount of scars that littered his abdomen

Neil starts taking off his shoes and Jean helps take off his knee high socks

Jean scrunches his nose at his inflated ankle, most of his being swollen and purple, looking as though it was broken rather then sprained

“It’s not broken,” Neil says, as if he heard Jeans thoughts

Jean himself hated this place as much as Neil, probably more

He knew once Neil is gone, he will be stuck here with Rikos abuse once again, Neil is a distraction and Jean has never felt so much freedom in a boxed up area, but every time he saw Neil being shoved, pushed, punched, kicked, hit and more, his thoughts went blank

He has been in Neil position already, and watching it from afar made his blood stop rather than boil

Jean gently touches his ankle and Neil sucks in a breath, looking down at Jean with fierce eyes

“Do you get off to pain as well?”

Jean ignores Neil and opens the first aid kit, tending to Neil's ankle (which included using wipes) and just as Neil looks down at his foot, it was all wrapped up with bandages

Jean looks up at Neil and all Neil could do was stare back

He knew Jean was tired, his eyes said it all and his face looked weak even though everyone would classify him as healthy

One of the most healthiest men on an Exy sports team

“Thank you.” Neil, at least, had manners, his mother would hit the back of his head or pinch his arm if he didn’t say the proper words to someone

Even if his mother was in the back of his head, he still said it halfheartedly

Jean gets in a kneeling position and looks at Neil's arm

“First take a shower.” Jean takes out a plastic bag from the medical kit and wraps it around Neil's ankle, meant to protect the bandages

Neil slowly stands, putting pressure on one side of his leg and swats Jeans hand away from him, rejecting his help

Neil uses the lockers and walls to get to the showers, and Jean slowly follows along, watching as Neil tries his best

Neil makes it to the showers, stepping onto the wet floors and reaches the shower heads

He hates how open everything was and how everyone could see him, but nonetheless, he was glad no one was here in the first place

Neil stops and looks back at Jean who gives Neil a blank look, “do you need help?” 

Neil shakes his head and slowly tries to take off his pants, “could you get me my change of cloths?”

Jean heads back to Neil's locker and opens it, nothing being inside and Jean sighs knowingly

“Nothing is in here.”

Jean hears Neil swear to himself as the shower head turns on

Instead, Jean goes to his locker and takes out a plain grey long sleeved Puma shirt that came with a hood, along with some black sweatpants

He takes out an unused towel as well and brings it to Neil, trying to avoid any eye contact with Neil's nude body

He places Neil's Items on the bench that was semi dry and walks away

Neil was grateful for that, even though Jean has already seen the countless of scars on his body along with the scars Riko continuously put on him, he was grateful for privacy

Jean waits near the exit for Neil as he walks out of the showers, grabbing the nearby lockers as support and sits on the bench near the door, looking up at Jean

“How long has it been?” Neil asked

Jean sighs and stands in front of Neil

Neil looks up at him and Jean crouches down, now Neil looking down at Jean instead

“Ten days,” Jean answered

Neil scoffs and looks away before going back to staring at Jean

Neil consciously places his forehead on Jeans shoulder, hiding his face in the crook of Jeans neck

Jeans breathe hitches and his throat stops before realizing that this was Neil, not Riko; who could slice his neck if desired

Jean raises his hand and places it on Neil head, ruffling his hair in the process before trying to steady his breath

“How did we get here?” Neil asks

“I noticed that all you do is ask questions and have a bad mouth.”

Neil stays quiet

“Riko broke Kevin's wrist and came back with a grin on his face.” Jean places his left hand on Neil's outer thigh for balance. “When I asked questions like you do, he took my fingers and forcefully took off my nails with clippers.”

Neil, again, stays quiet

Neil brings his head up again, closer to Jeans face that he felt his breathe fan over his cheek

“I’m okay though if that’s what you are assuming, and once you’re gone, ill most likely be here waiting to leave just as you are which would most likely never happen.”

Neil gives Jean a look, but Jean didn’t know whether he should take it as pity or frustration

“You are leaving with me, and if not, ill come back for you. Someone will.”

Jean stands up and grabs Neil's wrist, helping him up

“I don’t take promises that would never happen.”

“When did I say I promised you? I will.”

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

Okay so Nikoshi Motherfucking Doe 

So, @sadivy2​ dropped into my inbox and snagged my attention with a rather interesting ask and while I like most of the concept, I’m choosing to take a few creative liberties. Take what you want from this but, as always, I’mma do what I want bc I can :))) Bear with me as I tell the tale of the only valid Moriyama

In the months following Kev’s flight from the Nest, Riko begins to grow incredibly volatile and needs something to distract him. It’s in the middle of his English class that he sees the prettiest girl on the face of the Earth. On his way out, he swings by to talk to her and, one thing leads to another and she’s leading him back to her dorm. 

About a year or so later Riko hears about the car crash that killed Evermore’s number 1 track star and orphaning her child. He doesn’t think much of it until a week later when he sees the shrine they’ve put up for her. 

It’s the girl from English and in the photo is her four and half month old son, Nikoshi. For the most part, he seems to take after his mother. He’s only a few shades lighter than her with a more golden/yellowish undertone and the same cloud of corkscrew curls but his nose is thin and turns up just a little at the end. His lips aren’t as full and his eyes are rounder with irises as black as night. The child is beautiful and is unmistakably Riko’s.

By the time Riko gets his shit together, it’s too late. Nikoshi’s been shipped off into the foster care system. One would think that with such an unusual name, he’d be easy to find but Riko can’t for the life of him find the kid. 

Make no mistake, Riko doesn’t give a damn about this kid. He wants to find him and erase him. If word got out that Riko had been fooling around and had fathered a child, there’d be a thousand women falling at his feet and attempting to claim that their child was his too. Nikoshi was a threat to Riko’s reputation. He had to be disposed of. 

Of course, he never gets the chance to deal with the kid. Instead, he’s to preoccupied orchestrating the death of Seth, the return of Dr*ke, and Neil’s trip to Evermore to even think about Nikoshi. It’s not until the death of his own father that he even takes the time to think about his son. It’s only for a brief instant that the word flashes through his head. My son. Riko hates it immediately. Anger floods him and he beats the shit out of Jean. The next morning, by the time Riko wakes, Jean is long gone.

 That’s it. That was the final straw. All of Riko’s self-control is gone. He’s lost Kevin and Jean. He couldn’t bring Neil back to Evermore. He couldn’t even find the child he’d fathered. When he steps onto the court at finals, he’s ready to burst. 

He throws his all into the game and he still loses. 

The defeat is crushing, not as crushing as Andrew’s racquet smashing into his arm, but crushing nonetheless. It’s almost a relief when Ichirou pulls out the gun.

“I have a final request,” Riko started, speaking in Japanese for fear of the Wesninski overhearing. “Find the child I’ve fathered. His mother died in a car accident when he was four months old, nearly five. His name is Nikoshi. Find him and kill him too.” The gun goes off and Riko’s lifeless body slumps to the floor. 

For the next few months, all Ichirou can think about is Nikoshi. His curiosity ends up winning out and he ends up spending a few late nights researching. From what he’s managed to find, Nikoshi is the son of a woman named Renatta Beckford, a track star from Evermore who was being scouted for the Olympic team who’d never revealed the father of his child. Why she’d chosen to do so, Ichirou couldn’t figure out but he was grateful nonetheless. That made this mess a little easier to clean up. 

It’s YEARS before Ichirou manages to actually track the kid himself down. Well, if you could even call it tracking him down. On Ichirou’s rare day off, he decides to head down to Brooklyn for the weekend. Wandering about the Brooklyn Museum, he sees a kid, no more than twelve balanced precariously atop a bench in an attempt to see. 

“Nikoshi, if you don’t get down from there right fucking now!” a woman snapped as she yanked him off the bench by the collar of his shirt. As the shirt shifted, Ichirou saw the myriad of bruises blooming across the boy’s skin. 

“But Mom-” the boy started to say. 

“I am not your mother,” the woman hissed as she caught him by the hair. 

“Surely not, seeing as no mother could possibly bring herself to hurt her child in such a fashion.” The words were out of Ichirou’s mouth before he could stop them.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” the woman asked, giving Nikoshi’s hair another savage yank. 

“That is none of your concern,” Ichirou said breezily. “If I were you, I’d be far more concerned with who they are.” Immediately, a pair of officers moved to flank him. “I presume, you saw the bruises too.” One of the officers nodded. “Detain her and get CPS on the phone. Tell them Ichirou Moriyama is calling.” The woman’s face grew pale as her hand slipped out of Nikoshi’s hair. 

A few hours later, Nikoshi found himself riding in the back of the nicest car he’d ever seen. 

“I didn’t need your help,” he snapped at the man sitting across for him. When no response came, Nikoshi said it again, louder this time. 

“No wonder your father didn’t want you,” the man said. His words knocked the breath out of Niko’s lungs. 

“Fuck you. There’s no way you know my father.”

“No,” the man replied. “I didn’t know him but I know someone who did.” After that, no matter what Niko said or did, the man didn’t say another word. At some point, Niko gave up the fight and let himself be led out of the car and followed the man out to a plane. “Is there a problem?” the man asked when Niko stalled at the foot of the stairs. 

“I’m not supposed to get in a stranger’s car,” he said suspiciously.

“You already let us drive you out here,” the man pointed out. “Besides, this isn’t a car. It’s a private jet. Now, come on. I haven’t got all day.” Tentatively, Niko made his way up the stairs and into the lounge. He took a seat as far away from the man as he could and curled up. No one bothered him for the remainder of the trip. 

When the plane landed there was a second car waiting for them, just as nice as the first. Niko didn’t have any choice but to get in. He stared out the window, watching in silence as the houses passed by. They were massive. Each was three or four stories high with opulently decorated gates that towered over him. It wasn’t long until they pulled up into the driveway of one. The gates parted to let them through. 

“Come, Niko. It’s time to meet your new foster family.” Niko slid out of the car and turned his gaze to the man standing at the front door. His mouth fell open as he took in the messy black hair and emerald green eyes. He watched as the man worked his jaw, the muscles beneath the chess piece on his cheek twitching. “Nikoshi, I’d like you to meet-”

“Kevin Day,” Niko whispered in awe.

and it’s really late now so i’ll finish this tomorrow if you guys are interesedt in my continued bullshit 

[inacatastrophicmind]

hi! do you have a fic rec page? i'd love to see what your all-time fav destiel fics are

I don’t have a fic rec page. I've been thinking about making one for a long time, but I haven’t. Still, I’m going to list some of my favorite fics and add the summary.

Burden by riseofthefallenone (WIP, mutant!AU)

Mutants are considered second class citizens, or worse. Discriminated against at every turn, mutants are marked and monitored by The Registry and any deemed too dangerous are taken away to The Facility. It’s no surprise that many try to hide or choose a more permanent way out if a mutation develops.

Castiel’s parents hid his mutation and hid him away from the world. He’s grown up with the knowledge that the world will hate him, no matter what he does. If he leaves the house, he can only do it with a long, heavy coat that covers the most beautiful part of him.

It takes a pair of brothers to help him really spread his wings and live.

Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits (canon!verse)

For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental.

It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless.

the cost of a thing by quiettewandering (canon!verse)

16 months ago, Cas became human.

12 months ago, Cas left the bunker and a broken-hearted Dean behind.

Now they must work a case together, where married couples are dying mysterious deaths and the only way to earn the neighbors' trust is by pretending to be married. Slowly, Dean finds that he loves being in a relationship with Cas, fake or not, and Cas finds his loneliness retreating, despite the harsh reality looming right around the corner. As Dean and Cas navigate this fake, but all too real, relationship, can they find the monster that is on a mysteriously motivated killing spree before it’s too late?

'Cause I'm Yours by FeaRauko(canon!verse)

He steps outside during Sam and Eileen's wedding reception for a breather.Dean follows him.

or

That one where Cas is so very tired of pretending that he isn't madly in love with Dean...or as though he can't clearly see the way Dean loves him back.

Scarsby lemonsorbae(punk!dean and hipster!cas AU)

Dean Winchester doesn’t answer to anybody about anything. Not about his ever changing hair color or tattoos, not his music, and definitely not about all the fucks he definitely doesn’t give. Of course, then he meets pretentious, skinny jean wearing, ugly sweater buying Castiel Edlund who’s hardest lot in life is probably alphabetizing inventory at his uncle’s record store, and suddenly Dean has to answer for everything.

Castiel, on the other hand, had long since accepted his fate as an anti-social, directionless, and misunderstood soul, with his cat, Meg, and a bottle of whiskey being the only company he needed. But then fate threw him Dean, the abrasive, infuriating punk who wears guyliner, and walks around like the chip on his shoulder is something to be proud of, and Castiel’s carefully constructed life was turned ass over teakettle.

After a heated exchange upon first meeting, a mutual loathing afterwards, and the glaring opposites in their lives, neither of them sees the point of mixing oil and water. Which would be all good and well, except neither of them seems to be able to stay away from the other.

Stand By Me by whelvenwings (post-apocalypse!AU)

Dean Winchester has been alone for a long, long time.

When he and Castiel happen to find each other - a couple of survivors in a world that’s been all but wiped clean - Dean’s looking for his brother; Castiel is looking for something to look for. They stick together, because neither of them much wants to be alone. They hate each other at first, of course. Dean hates Castiel for being weird and quiet and ironic and antagonistic and proud. Castiel hates Dean for being blunt and reckless and coarse, for drinking, for refusing to talk about how he feels and just pretending everything is fine. Most of all, they hate themselves and each other just for being alive. What right do they have to be alive? No one else seems to be.

But against his own will, Dean starts to notice things about Castiel that he likes. Starts to hope that Castiel might like him, too. And together, they start to fight for a world where they're both alive - and that's a good thing.

Rest in Pieces by xylodemon (canon!verse)

"Goddamned ghosts," Dean snaps, stabbing his shovel into the dirt. "Goddamned Heaven."

(or: the one with the Ghost Apocalypse)

A Priori by K_K_TiBal, whelvenwings (WIP, Hogwarts!AU)

Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak are headed to Hogwarts.

Castiel, as a member of the old Novak wizarding family, is fully expected to be sorted into Ravenclaw, like all of his ancestors before him. Dean, as a Muggle-born, has no idea what the Houses even are. With a surprise sorting and classes starting soon afterwards, they're both pitched headfirst into the unknown - and they find themselves in competition with each other almost at once, both of them needing to prove themselves to the people they left at home, and the people with them at Hogwarts.

Over the course of their seven years at Hogwarts, Dean and Cas learn what it means to prove yourself, what it takes to discover who you are, what it feels like to fall in love, and what it is they'll fight for - what matters most of all.

Love: A Retrospective by xylodemon(canon!verse)

Pretending Cas is just his friend has been the only thing keeping Dean's head on straight for years. He never realized how much doing that depended on him making himself scarce in the morning ─ not until Cas came back and moved into the bunker. 

where the weeds take root by loneprairies  (canon!verse)

“Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”

These Violent Delights by Persephoneshadow (canon!verse)

A newly mortal Castiel wants to understand humanity, and a little Shakespeare is just the thing to help him. Of course, it takes a little bit of prodding, but soon the Winchesters (along with Kevin and Charlie) are all part of the world's weirdest reading club. Of course, the poetry starts having an effect on everyone...

The Five People You Meet in Heaven by amarillogrande(canon!verse)

Heaven is white.

Well. Isn’t that fucking stereotypical.

Dean isn’t really sure how he got here. Or even why he’s here. And hell, for all the times the Winchesters have died, he thinks he ought to know the drill by now. But what he doesn’t know is when most folks go, they find something different.

There’s a system God put in place. That when you’re gone (for good), there are a couple things you gotta do first. There are five people waiting for you.

They are the five people you meet in heaven.

Castle on a Cloud by whelvenwings (fantasy!AU)

Dean Winchester has his whole life planned out. Becoming a warrior is all he’s ever dreamed about, since he was tiny - saving people, hunting monsters; quests and deeds and swords and glory. He’s done his training and he’s ready to become a Savaşçı, a knight of the realm. All that stands in his way is the Vigil, a night-long contemplation of his past and future in the chapel just outside the city walls. The only rules: no eating, no speaking, and no opening the door.

Easy, right?

Very easy. Until there’s a knocking, and a voice from outside that pleads for his help…

So begins Dean’s journey, and his path will take him far - across the desert, through the forests, over the mountains and beyond. But his mysterious blue-eyed companion is keeping secrets, and Dean has a few of his own. Will he be able to let go of his fear before they come to the Castle on a Cloud?

Chili Peppers by justanothersong(professors!AU)

Dr. Winchester hears an off hand comment from one of his students and find himself browsing a website dedicated to rating university professors. He's not surprised by his rating -- but is a little miffed to see the department chair has an even better one. Clearly, something needs to be done about this.

Chasing Cars by ratherbehere(college!AU)

After an awkward accidental encounter at a local strip club, Castiel discovers his college roommate, Dean, has a secret career as a stripper, and their relationship begins to change and a bond begins to form. They face the joys and challenges of life together and discover along the way how deeply they've come to care for each other.

Redemption Roadby spnredemption (canon!verse)

Given that this is a huge series, and each part has a different summary, I’ll summarize it as a post season 6 fic in which Team Free Will try to save the world.

A Little Patience by riseofthefallenone  (modern setting AU with elements of High School, College and Coffee shop)

The first part summary: It sometimes feels a little wrong thinking debauched things about a guy who could very well be one of Sammy’s teachers. But then those wrong feelings go up in smoke when the downright sinful fantasies kick in just from thinking the word ‘teacher’. Those are always pretty darn amazing and Dean has a very vivid imagination.

The second part is basically Cas’ POV of the story.

Casturbatus Interruptus by smallhorizons (canon!verse)

post-9.01, in a slight AU wherein Cas comes to live with the Winchesters at the Bunker. Written before 9.03. Crossposting from Tumblr. Written for a prompt from hightopsandsharpies: "Okay, so Cas is a virgin, and has no idea what pleasure is and Dean decides to show him and Cas gets all cuddly and needy afterwards."

Dean walks in on Cas masturbating. He’s doing it all wrong, but when you’re a bazillion-year-old virgin, that’s to be expected. Dean decides to lend him a hand in a totally platonic, non-romantic way. Things get a little out of control.

Not Part of the Planby Annie D (scaramouche)  (Royalty and Human AU, this one is hard to describe. Better read all the tags)

Castiel's spent most of his adult life keeping his head down and staying out of trouble. This is a deliberate choice on his part, because as a cousin of the King, he'd rather stay unimportant and forgotten. This changes abruptly when King Michael decides that he has a better use for Castiel: he is to be wed to a noble member of the neighboring Republic, as part of an agreement between their two nations.

Castiel knows he has to obey, but that doesn't mean he won't rebel in what small ways he can. Unexpectedly, his actions end up having far-reaching consequences.

To Raise A Kingby riseofthefallenone (medieval!AU)

This must be some kind of horrible joke at Castiel’s expense. Is he truly expected to protect a King? One who has been their enemy for as long as he can remember? He is much more suited to being a part of the army, or at the very least someone who helps to train the knights. That would be far more preferred than having to watch over the King. It means Castiel would get to keep fighting – and that’s the only way he knows to give meaning to his life.

Painted Angelsby WinJennster (modern!AU with writer!cas and artist!dean)

Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped. Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing.Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.

Angel's Wildby LimonadeGaby, riseofthefallenone (Wing fic!AU)

But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it? He’s not out here hunting Humans. He’s not even hunting deer, or bears, or anything else that featured in Bambi. He’s out here, freezing his nuts off every night, because he’s hunting Angels.

Sometimes Dean wishes that Angels were like how they’re described in the Bible. How people from time too old for him to care much about thought Angels were messengers and warriors of God, protectors of Humans. He knows that how they’re really described in the Bible is actually pretty terrifying, but at least they were told by God that they’re supposed to love Humans, right?

That’s a thousand times better than what Angels really turned out to be.

The Pillow Verse byAnythingtoasted, clockworkrobots, inplayruns, nyoka, outpastthemoat, thepillowverse (canon!verse)

The Pillow ‘Verse was a tumblr-based Dean/Castiel round-robin fanfiction challenge that took place over Supernatural’s 2013 summer hiatus.

A canon-based domestic!fic shared universe set in the Men of Letter’s bunker, The Pillow ‘Verse follows Dean, Castiel, Sam, and their small cohort of rabble-rousers through stories of love, nest building, family, and healing following the 8x23 Supernatural finale Sacrifice.

This is a story of the things that happen after the fall.

[in-tua-deep]

I'm like, ridiculously invested in the Lumberjack lesbian mom au, so I have a question and an idea that bounces off the question. Does she know they have powers? And then what if they were in the city and she (or some other probably child civilian) gets trapped in like... A burning building or something, and Five gets her out but people see him and Reginald actually does show up, following the rumors of potential Umbrella Academy kids so Ellie gets to make good on her threat😂

She does! But not at first, they keep that under wraps because they assume that if she figures out they’re The Umbrella Academy then she’ll send them back oof and they have Vanya’s inclusion to throw off the scent as well because there’s six umbrella academy kids and seven of them

but i mean Ellie wasn’t exactly born yesterday one of these little sucker’s name is Five and sometimes they call each other by numbers or - on rare occasions - their hero names (usually only when they’re sniping at one another but Luther occasionally does it out of habit)

and these kids have weird trauma that pops up oddly. Like the fact that when Ellie is first getting everyone dinner she expects them to be,, you know,,, kids. Descend upon the food like a pack of ravenous wolves. They’re seven thirteen-year-olds they might as well be feral little gremlins regarding food they’re still growing. But nope they all very quietly pile around Ellie’s shitty table where they had to drag in like four chairs from various spots around the house into a mishmash pile and quietly wait as Ellie piles food on her own plate and she’s like “??? what are y’all waiting for???” and ben just blinks and looks at her oddly and is like “uhhh you haven’t given us permission to eat?” and ellie is just like “shit chow down kids y’all don’t need permission” but they’re all still hesitant and luther is like “how,, how much are we permitted” and ellie is just “????? i mean make sure your siblings get some but if there’s any left and you’re still hungry you can always go back for seconds”

just klaus being wide eyed and all “What’s seconds?? wait you’re telling me that after we’re done we can go back and get MORE food? just like that?” and ellie’s heart is breaking and also she’s mentally looking at her budget again about feeding seven ravenous children and figuring she’ll teach the kids to fish and what in the forest is edible 

(she’ll figure out soon enough the kids already know, they’ve been living in the forest for a while before they came upon her and she adopted them, so ellie won’t have to worry too hard about feeding them when they come home with buckets full of blackberries and mud on their clothes)

but the point is that she’s pretty sure your average 13 yr old can’t help with the lumber with the amount of ease that Luther shows. She’s also pretty sure that the way the kids keep squirreling Vanya off into the woods is pretty suspect and so are the patches of woods where the trees are blown down like a localized tornado. Plus it’s hard not to notice that sometimes Five will go off in one direction and show up in another place entirely.

they think they’re being so sneaky about it

it’s probably five that gives it up in the end

they’re all gathered in front of the tv watching a movie with songs and dancing. Let’s say footloose because why not. Allison adores movies and dancing and all of that and will often make her siblings dance with her along with the characters and so they all have the furniture shoved back against the walls as they goof around. Ellie is sitting on the couch and Klaus is trying to teach her how to knit to no avail (he’s just much better at it than she is, she just doesn’t have the patience for this kind of thing - but then again she’d thought the same of Klaus but he seems to enjoy having something to keep his hands busy when he’s sitting with Clyde sprawled across his lap)

someone moves wrong and stumbles into someone else and they trip and hands go flailing and Five flinches but he’s had training at avoiding projectiles pounded into his head (and his flesh, bruises upon bruises and blood dripping down his lip) and so he does what comes naturally to him - he jumps before Diego can crash into him. Not far, just a few feet to the left as Diego crashes to the floor, but they all freeze because Five jumped

in front of Ellie

and Ellie is scowling at her knitting which she’s pretty sure she dropped a few stitches fucking somewhere and she isn’t sure where but she barely looks up she’s just like “No powers in the house” and jabs at something with a needle that might be picking up a stitch but might also be losing another one?

“What?” Allison blurts out, echoes by the others

Ellie looks up, “I mean, I don’t mind you kids using them out in the woods or anything but shit’s breakable in the house and we’re on a budget. We can negotiate when you’re older if you like.”

“you KNOW?” Diego asks, wide eyed and somewhat alarmed

“Diego.” Ellie says patiently, giving up and passing her knitting to an alarmed looking Klaus because really he’s good and if anyone can save whatever the fuck she managed to do it would be him, “Seven kids popped up outside my house. Six of which have the exact same names as the kids from the umbrella academy or whatever. Klaus literally had a nightmare the other night where he screamed about ghosts. And don’t think I didn’t see you throw that pinecone at your sister last week. Y’all aren’t exactly subtle.”

as though it didn’t take ellie fucking forever to put two and two together tbh like she figured out about the powers way before she figured out about the umbrella academy thing. She went to town and saw a gossip magazine with a picture of them all wondering why they hadn’t been seen in public (as if reginald is going to admit to them running away) and ellie was like ‘holy shiT’ at the time

“You didn’t say anything.” Vanya says, shakily

Ellie just shrugs again, “Well I figured y’all would come clean when you felt comfortable enough to. I’m glad you’re trusting me with this.”

“You aren’t going to send us back?” Five asks what they’re all thinking, and he’s shaking like a leaf, blue sparking across his hands like he wants to jump away and is only held back by sheer willpower

“Fuck no,” Ellie snorts, then frowns, “I mean uh, heck no. Don’t swear, kids. But like, your dad was clearly a piece of shit and I wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire, let alone give him even a plant to take care of never mind seven kids.”

There’s a pause as they all digest that

“No powers in the house?” Ben confirms, because they’re all familiar with rules

“Like I said, breakable shit.” Ellie nods, “I trust y’all are being safe using them out in woods at least. Figuring out control is important, but I trust you guys to know what you’re doing. They’re your powers, after all. But - if you ever need me don’t hesitate to ask. I might be just an ordinary person, but I’ve got a trick or two up my sleeve.”

“You aren’t ordinary.” Vanya protests immediately, steel in her tone and by the way that all the others spines stiffen Ellie can figure she’s stepped on another landmine. There have been a couple, and Ellie keeps the ones she’s discovered written in a notebook in her room so she doesn’t forget (don’t jokingly put luther in charge, don’t turn off Klaus’s bedside lamp because he’s scared of the dark, don’t use the word rumor in any conversation ever, don’t mention the kids mother, telegraph her movements to five before touching him, and so on and so forth and now she can add ‘don’t use the word ordinary’ to the list as well), “You’re the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met.”

There’s another lull.

“What happens if we do use them? In the house?” Five asks, voice so very quiet that it’s almost lost as Kevin Bacon loudly says something to the Preacher on screen. 

and Ellie has to think about that, because she hasn’t really imposed any actual rules on the kids outside of like,, normal ones. Please be back before dark. Make sure everyone has something to eat, you can always go back for more if you’re still hungry. Pick up after yourself. The usual. And really, what can she do to punish a bunch of superpowered children, anyway?

So Ellie grins at them, “Then Clyde gets to sleep with me for the night.”

Immediately the tension is broken as the kids protest and cluster around to grab at Clyde dramatically. Clyde snorts awake but gives his tail some thumps at the attention even if he looks a little confused at why he’s receiving it. These days the little traitor sleeps with the kids who let him in their bed and cuddle him at night, all of them piled up on the mattresses that Ellie had thrown on the ground as they nest in the room that used to be her ‘office’ 

(she’s working on the extension to the house for them, but for now they have to share a bedroom. Not that they’ve complained about it, in face Ellie feels like she’s going to have to consult with them on what they want their sleeping arrangements to be in case they end up just wanting one giant bed to puppy pile on - which is fine for now but Ellie is pretty sure as they grow older they’re going to want their own spaces)

okay this got away from me i haven’t even looked at the second half of your ask

honestly if reginald did show up he’d knock on the door and Ellie would answer and then she’d squint at him when he demanded to see the children and would be like “oh hey it’s you ya motherfucker” and she’d be like “nope no kids here”

and reggie would point behind her to the family picture that ellie had taken a month ago that she loves because all the kids are smiling and laughing and ben is holding a frog and klaus is covered in mud and vanya has a leaf in her hair and luther’s pantlegs are soaking wet but it’s them and it’s wonderful and it’s her new favorite photo ever

and ellie looks him in the eye and deadpans, “haven’t gotten around to switching out the stock photo”

and reginald forces his way in and Ellie is maybe about two seconds away from fetching her wood chopping ax for Reasons and then the kids come back piling through the door loudly and raucously with laughs that die off when they see exactly who is in their living room, the front door still swinging open and Ellie looking coldly furious

even Clyde reads the mood and whines and there’s a loud growling grumble which absolutely does not come from Clyde but instead originates from the doorway leading deeper into the cabin where Marmalade/Orange Idiot stands with back arched as he bares his teeth at the intruder like the true guard cat he is

“Kids go to the other room.” Ellie says, and when they move to protest she puts her foot down with a “Now.” and a significant look because Vanya looks like a ghost all the blood has drained so fast from her face and Five is trembling and Klaus has tucked him and Ben behind Diego with wide frightened eyes and she knows the kids are going to eavesdrop but she wants them out of eyesight of their worst nightmare at the very least

Reginald is thankfully silent as the kids troop into the other room

“Clyde you go with them,” Ellie orders the dog, because those kids need as much comfort as they can get right not, and then she looks at the cat, “And Marm, you go too.” and hey her and Marm may not see eye to eye on most things but they both love the kids and Ellie feels like they have an understanding on the level of “if this ass goes into the room with the kids tear him a new asshole” and Marmalade sticks his tail in the air and hisses one more time at Reginald for good measure before trotting off as though he intended to exit the entire time

and Reginald says something about the kids returning and picking up their training pronto and Ellie just cuts him off

“Sir Asshat.” She says, ignoring the small gasp because her kids are not subtle, “I’m going to be straight with you - why the fuck do you think you’re walking out of here with any of those kids.”

and Reginald draws himself up and is like “They are my children. I made them what they are.”

“You traumatized a bunch of perfectly good kids is what you did.” Ellie says, “Look at them. They have anxiety. But that’s not what I’m getting at - though I don’t quite count buying them as being yours to begin with they’re children not furniture - but what I’m getting at is: how are you going to make them?”

and Reginald looks startled

“Those kids in there,” Ellie jabs a finger towards the wall, “Are extraordinary. And on top of that, they have powers the likes of which I’ve never seen before. And you think you, Mr. Hargreeves, are a match for them? If they decide to really go against you? You think you can force them to do anything they don’t want to do?”

She jabs a finger at Reginald’s chest, forcing him to take a step back. Because he came here thinking he had all the power, because he’s a powerful man and money talks. But not here it doesn’t. Not in Ellie’s grandmother’s cabin, in her neck of the woods, not when she has seven children behind her and the man who still gives them nightmares in front of her.

Ellie bares her teeth in what might generously be called a smile if it didn’t look too much like she wanted to tear Reginald’s throat out. “You are very lucky, Mr. Hargreeves. Because if I was in those kids shoes? There wouldn’t be anyone left to come looking for me, you know? You want that luck to hold, don’t you Mr. Hargreeves?”

“Are you threatening me?” Reginald demands, but looks unnerved. And he invaded her home, wants to take her kids away, wiped the smiles off of her kids faces and left them quiet and trembling and afraid just with one glance at them.

“No, sir.” Ellie tells him, “Just pointing out a truth is all. Now Mr. Hargreeves, I’ll even do you a favor and give you another truth for free. You see, you’re going to turn around and get the hell off of my property. You’re going to leave my kids alone, and never darken my doorstep again. You’re going to go back to your sad, miserable, lonely little life and you are never even going to think in the direction of my kids ever again. Do you understand?”

“I could have you arrested!” Reginald says severely, drawing himself up. 

Ellie crosses her arms and looks to the side, where all the kids are now hovering in the doorway and watching this clash between the two adults. “Kids,” Ellie says, mild as milk, “If I were arrested would you bust me out?”

“Yeah.” Luther says, and the fact that’s it’s Luther who answers and has his face set in stone as he turns towards Ellie as if Reginald isn’t in the room. And Ellie is so fucking proud of him it hurts, “Of course we would.”

Ellie nods, “So you see, Mr. Hargreeves, the thing about family is that if you mess with one you mess with all. And I don’t think you really want to mess with us.”

And Reginald turns sharply to the door, cane flashing in the light and Ellie can see the kids flinch back and is kind of regretting not just going straight for the wood ax or maybe one of the kitchen knives or hey maybe just using her fists and going to town she’s pretty sure she can take this pasty old man

and reginald leaves and maybe he vows to return and ellie calmly tells him that if he shows up again she’ll consider him a trespasser and deal with him accordingly

and then he drives off and ellie goes back inside and the kids huddle around her and she sweeps them into her arms and presses kisses on their heads and cheeks and wipes away Vanya’s tears with one hand as she presses Klaus’s sobbing face into her shoulder and she promises them that she’ll never let them go back to their father’s care no matter what

even if that means taking the kids and running

“But your grandmother’s cabin - ” Ben starts, swiping a hand over his own tearstained face as Ellie reaches out to him

“Nana would understand.” Ellie tells him simply, “She’s dead, you’re alive. You come first over any silly little cabin, you hear?”

and that night everyone piles into Ellie’s room instead of going to their own, pressing against one another in a tangle of limbs that Ellie already knows is going to have her waking in the middle of the night sweating like a don’t know what but she can’t bring herself to protest not even why clyde hops in and so does the demon cat who she will never admit she likes

“If he comes back I’m going to kill him.” Ellie says, thoughtful as the kids settle around her, “You kids would help me bury the body, right?”

“If we killed him, do you think we could go rescue Mom?” Diego asks quietly, and Ellie is suddenly turning in bed because the kids only mentioned their mother once and then shut down entirely any other time ellie asked

“We don’t have to wait, sweetheart.” Ellie says, all thoughtful and maybe just a little bit vengeful and petty, “Tell me about your mom in the morning?”

and the kids snuggle closer and nod

and okay later when Ellie finally meets Grace she can admit that she expected an older woman around Reginald’s age not this lovely young woman with her 60s style skirt and her smile and oh she’s a robot?? okay yeah that makes sense there’s no way this literal angel of perfection could possibly be a mortal to begin with

yeah ellie might be fucked

[sylvesterelle]

All for the game B I R D S l Andrew/Neil l Read on Ao3

He patted the dashboard near Andrew’s hand, not quite touching. “As long as you know you’re the prettiest bird of all.”

“I will push you out of this car, junkie.”

Or: something soft, and kind, and just between the two of them in the weeks after The King's Men.

“Bluebird.”

They were sitting, as they often sat, on the edge of the roof at Fox Tower, the sky in that slippery space between night and dawn.

“Hmm?” Neil asked, bleary with exhaustion and a sleepy satisfaction, a warmth that, improbably, hadn’t dimmed in the weeks since the season ended.

“Bluebird," Andrew repeated, arms hung over the newly-installed metal railing, eyes trained on everything and nothing.

Neil looked out over the parking lot, frowning. “Where? I don’t see one.”

Andrew flicked his cigarette ashes in Neil’s direction without looking. “Listen, junkie.”

Neil closed his eyes, uncharacteristically amenable. He hadn’t had much call to listen to bird song in his life, neither this one nor the one that came before.

For a minute, he didn’t hear much of anything. The muted hum of a lone car on the highway nearby, maybe. The steady sound of Andrew breathing beside him.

But there—was that?

It was soft, coming from the east. A few trilling notes, not really a song at all. But there was something in the sound. Something light that drew a faint pressure in his chest, an emotion he couldn’t really name.

He opened his eyes and looked closer at the trees beside the lot. There—a flash of blue in a Carolina pine.

Neil pulled his knee up, resting his chin there as he watched. "Pretty."

Andrew snorted. “Weak. If a sparrow, even a starling, comes, the parents won’t stay to protect the nest. Even if there’s eggs; even if they’ve hatched.”

The crease deepened between Neil’s brows. “What do the sparrows do?”

Andrew shrugged. “Kill them. Build their nest on the bodies, sometimes.”

“Naturally.”

The bluebird flew away, but the moment stretched on.

The blonde turned his gaze to him, level and unasking. Neil understood anyway.

“Yes,” he said, not lifting his head from his knee.

Andrew reached out with his free hand, threaded his fingers through Neil’s hair. Still auburn, but lightened by the sun as the weeks slipped toward summer.

They’d spent a lot of time on that roof, since the season ended. Midnight practices went later now that finals were over. And more often than not, Neil found his feet carrying him towards the stairs rather than to his room afterwards, no threat of classes or early morning practice calling out for better judgement. Sometimes following Andrew, sometimes of his own accord—though where Neil went, Andrew would inevitably follow.

It was still May, but the low country heat already lasted well into the night and they didn’t bother changing from their practice clothes. Their overheated skin cooling against stone was a welcome relief, the air humid and heavy as it washed over them.

The campus lights drowned out some of the stars, but not all—not the brightest. Neil pointed out his favorites, the markers and constellations his mother had forced him to learn not for their beauty, but for their usefulness in case he got lost. In case he needed to run with nothing but the clothes on his back, and the knowledge in his head.

The memories felt closer in the night. But there was safety there, too. A feeling like they were the last two people on earth, an island of concrete in the night. Each touch was amplified by the leftover energy of the court, the cooled air, the privacy the darkness brought.

But the mornings…those were sweetest. When the light crept over campus in the east and the few students coming and going through the night had all but disappeared, Neil no longer felt they were an island, but no longer felt the loss of it, either. As the buildings of campus took shape and the orange walls of court were gentled in the light, Neil felt deeply settled. Deeply himself. I am here, his body seemed to say, I exist. Surrounded by the people he’d chosen, the place he’d claimed as his own, the dawn was an affirmation. Another night lived through, another day won as Neil Josten.

He wasn’t sure if Andrew felt it too, but he knew the man was aware of his reaction to the day. Would turn his stare on him as the sun began to rise, as if cataloging every reaction, every emotion that passed through his eyes. And when the last traces of night had left the sky, Andrew would turn wordlessly to the door and lead him back to their room, the touch of a hand on his wrist or the warmth of him against Neil’s back guiding him to sleep.

This morning was the same, Andrews fingers curling familiarly in Neil’s hair, tugging him close enough to nudge his nose against Neil’s, press their lips together, just once. He pulled back and slipped his hand down, fingers hooking on Neil’s frayed collar. Still quiet, but assessing. Confirming, Neil thought, that he was still real, still solid, not some trick of the light.

Satisfied with what he saw, Andrew pushed himself off the ground and, like so many mornings before, led them back to bed.

…

After that morning with the bluebird, Andrew began pointing out others. Not all the time, not in front of the others. But when they were alone and still. No questions asked or answered, just existing quietly, together. There was the thrumming, hollow call of a mourning dove, nesting outside their window. The wren in the rafters of court, too joyful by half for the normal Fox crowd. Even an absurdly crowned little gray thing that had perched outside Andrew’s favorite ice cream shop, a call so unremarkable Neil was skeptical it wasn’t some cleverly disguised camera. A tufted titmouse, Andrew had called it, which did nothing to help its case.

...

“So, are you going to tell me what the bird thing is about?” Neil asked finally, feet up on the dashboard in the Maserati as they headed towards Columbia.

The semester officially over, the Foxes were summarily kicked out of the dorms. The seniors had already said their farewells and headed home, with promises to reunite sometime in the summer. Kevin had elected to stay with Wymack for the first month, then a week or two in Houston with Thea before joining the rest of the Monsters.

Aaron and Nicky had nodded off minutes into the early-morning car journey, the twin leaned against the window with Nicky sprawled half in his lap. Andrew drove with his jaw set, hands gripping the wheel a touch tighter than they needed to. Neil knew what it cost him, agreeing to let Kevin stay with Wymack. Even if their deal was, officially, fulfilled, Kevin was still his, just as surely as the idiots dozing in the back and twice as crisis prone.

But Neil also knew that this was something that Kevin had to do—understood what it meant to need for the one parent you had left, even if Andrew couldn't. But he’d agreed in the end, and that was the important thing.

But agreeing to something in theory and actually leaving him behind were two different matters entirely, and Neil watched as the tension built in Andrew through the night and into the morning, bruised circles blooming underneath his eyes. He’d scoffed when Neil had offered to drive, ripping the keys out of his hand, but he didn’t take it personally. This was something Andrew either could or couldn’t handle, and they'd know the answer soon enough.

But distraction was always on the table, and Neil was bored.

...

Neil knew Andrew had heard him from the slight shift in the set of his shoulders, but the silence stretched out.

“Of which ‘bird thing’ do you speak?” Andrew said, finally. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“You know, the thing you do. With the birds.”

Andrew arched an eyebrow.

“You are intentionally being difficult, ‘drew.”

The eyebrow maintained its silence.

Neil rolled his eyes. “How you appear to be on friendly terms with every bird in the greater Palmetto area. Enough to be able to recognize them by call.”

“We didn’t all grow up outside of the public school system, Nealan. Perhaps this is a ‘you’ problem.”

Neil snorted. “Here’s the thing, I tested it out with Nicky the other day. Played him some bird call videos on Youtube. He thought every one was an eagle.” He frowned a little. “I don’t even think eagles sing.”

“That proves nothing. Nicky is an idiot.”

It was Neil’s turn to stare in silence.

Andrew half-turned, considering. “What will you give me for it?”

Neil scoffed. “What’s so secret about birds? Mob ties? Trained assassins? No wait--the birds work for the bourgeoisie." He wheedled at the blonde. "C’mon ‘drew, this is hardly a trade-worthy secret.”

Andrew shrugged. “That depends entirely on your trade.”

Neil sat up straighter in his seat, letting his feet drop to the floor. They didn’t trade secrets often anymore, the things that needed to be shared long unveiled. But they made a game of it, sometimes. Partly for the familiarity of it, more for the endless competitive desire to win the better deal.

“One week of dish duty, and a pint of that sorbet you like from the store. The expensive ones, in the little clear jars.”

Andrew tilted his head, weighing the offer.

“One month and four pints.”

“In your dreams, Minyard. Two weeks and two pints.”

Andrew tipped his hand back and forth in the air, and Neil sighed.

“AND I’ll let you pick the next documentary we watch.”

“Sold.” Andrew smiled then, in his own way. Just a hint of a thing at the corners of his mouth, like laughing aloud on anyone else.

“The answer to your question, young Josten, is that I’ve spend a lot of time near windows.”

Neil narrowed his eyes. “I beg your pardon.”

“Windows, Neil. The tempered glass walls you’re currently surrounded by?”

“I’m familiar with them, yes.”

“Ah, but you aren’t familiar with the windows I am. Say, for instance, those within juvenile detention centers in forested coastal climates. Northern California, for example.”

“Sounds cushy.”

“Wilderness is very good for troubled youth, Neil. All the best books say so.”

“And was it good for you?”

“Not in the slightest. But watching what happened out there was marginally more diverting than what was happening inside. Thus, the birds.”

Neil snorted, but caught how Andrew’s hands had relaxed minutely on the wheel, the slightest drop in tension that confirmed his hunch. Kevin would be fine, but now he knew Andrew would be, too.

“And the songs?”

“Thin walls. A liability for a toddler prison, you’d think.”

Neil cocked his head; a habit Allison had cooed over last time he’d seen her. “That doesn’t explain how you know their names, though.”

“Ah, that would be the sublime funding of the California carceral system. The library was donated by the estate of one Walter Munchausen. Infamous recluse, big into taxidermy, avid birder.”

“Surprised you didn’t go for the taxidermy.”

Andrew turned a level gaze on him. “Who says I didn’t?”

“Is that where you learned about the sparrows and the bluebirds?”

“Correct. Also the birds and the bees. Different book, though.”  

Neil huffed out a laugh. “How many of their songs do you remember?”

Andrew was silent for a moment. “Enough. I was there for a long time.”

Neil considered this. Filed it away. “Alright, ‘drew.”

He patted the dashboard near Andrew’s hand, not quite touching. “As long as you know you’re the prettiest bird of all.”

“I will push you out of this car, junkie.”

…

That summer was the kindest Neil had ever had. There was always hot coffee in the morning, and the sounds of Nicky and Aaron moving about the house, familiar enough to recognize by the tread of their feet. There was a side of the closet that was his, and clothes enough to fill it (though he hadn’t bought any of them, himself). There was exy for the afternoons and game shows at night, movie marathons watched from the floor, bracketed by Andrew’s legs.

And there was Andrew, everywhere. Throwing his feet in Neil’s lap while he read, or tossing Neil’s book away when he was tired of not being paid attention to. Staking a claim with fingers hooked in his collar when someone smiled a little too brightly at Neil at Eden’s. By his side when he fell asleep, a steady warmth when he woke.

It was Andrew’s gentle breathing, his steady heartbeat that colored the start of Neil's days. If it were a nightmare, he’d count the beats until his own pulse steadied to match. If it were a pleasant dream, all the better to wake, knowing that this life he fell into was so much more than anything he could have dreamt.

But the best parts, by far, were the afternoons. Those long, low country afternoons when the mercury stretched beyond 100, and the humidity laid like a blanket against Neil’s skin. Those afternoons where any thoughts of training fell away, and all they could do was stretch out on the back porch, limbs loose and heat-drunk in the hammock Nicky bought as a gag. Together if Andrew could stand it; Neil napping below if not. Either way, able to close their eyes with the knowledge that the other is safe, and close by; free to lose themselves in the haze, the sound of a far-off lawnmower or the lazy crunch of a passing car over gravel.

And occasionally, very occasionally, the sound of a bluebird, nestling in the pines.

[knoxxed]

what light tastes like

( Los Angeles is Jeremy Knox’s frown of concern whenever Jean pushes himself to the point of strain, the delighted grin when Jean surprises him. It’s cat fur being one more reason to stop wearing black. 

 Los Angeles is joining a starting line including but not limited to a kitchen witch, a seer, and a werewolf. It’s Jean never once being asked to confirm or deny who or what he is. 

 Los Angeles takes some getting used to.)

(Urban Fantasy!AU) for Lilly, @crazy-like-a-f0x (it’s not letting me tag you properly, i’m sorry!) for @aftgexchange‘s Summer Exchange 

It comes to Jean in flashes, after.

The realization–Kengo Moriyama is dead. Riko’s hands on his neck, slamming his face into the floor, again, again, again. The white hot bite of a knife. The way his fingers slip on the keys of his cellphone typing out a single message to Renee. Renee. Her face hovering over his, voice gentle, firm, impossible, as she hefts him to his feet.

What he remembers most clearly is the panic in his chest as she guided him outside into the night, into Minyard’s car. The way he protested, begged, half-conscious from pain.

They have it–I can’t–still in there, please–can’t leave, please, Renee–

Renee disappeared from his side for hours, for seconds. When she returned there was a birdcage with no door cradled in her arms; inside was a snow white dove.

Jean clutched it to his aching ribs and sobbed.

Two weeks after Jean flees the Nest, Kevin makes a deal with Jeremy Knox. Three weeks after Jean flees the Nest, Jean is recovering in his bed at Abby’s house. He watches the Trojans lose against the Ravens, watches Knox announce their treason on national television.

Knox says, I spoke to Jean earlier this week, says, He just won’t be back in black, says, I think we have a lot to learn from each other.

Knox says, Next year is going to be amazing, and the world believes him.

Jean sleeps, and he dreams of darkness.

He dreams of birds with burning wings, of glinting knives, of cages submerged in water.

Jean wakes up gasping. The dove at his bedside is thrashing in its cage.

He doesn’t go back to sleep.

Jeremy Knox picks him up from LAX at four in the morning on a Sunday, looking sleep heavy and bundled up in a USC sweatshirt that has seen better days. He’s holding two to-go mugs, the steam swirling in the morning air, and his face lights up when he sees Jean approaching.

“Jean Moreau,” Knox greets, sounding fond for reasons Jean can’t fathom. Jean is reminded of the times he’d had Knox as a mark–the way he was an absolute nightmare to defend against paired with the way he’d smile and seek Jean out at the end of each match. He’s never understood Jeremy Knox, and he doesn’t think that’ll change now that they’re on the same team.  

(Not for the first time Jean thinks he’s made a mistake in coming to LA, but there’s nothing to be done about it now.)

“Knox,” is all Jean says, and follows his new captain out of the terminal.

“It’s good to have you here,” Knox says as they walk through the parking lot; Jean can’t find it in him to agree with him. “I brought you a drink,” he continues, nonplused by Jean’s silence, offering out a cup. Jean takes it automatically, then eyes it warily.

“What is it?”

“Just try it,” Knox says instead of answering, smiling vaguely and rubbing sleep from his eyes, “I think you’ll like it.”

Jean concedes without argument, absurdly figuring Jeremy Knox is near the bottom of the list of people who would willingly poison him.

It’s black tea. Strong but slightly sweet, cut with milk. It’s good, but more than that it’s familiar. A memory is there, edging at the back of his brain–salty air, the smell of baking bread, the sound of his mother humming along to the radio.

Jean is jolted from the memory as they reach Knox’s parking spot. He drives a rusting pickup truck. This, in itself, isn’t out of the ordinary. What’s out of the ordinary is the small cat peering up at Jean from the passenger’s seat.

“Cleo,” Knox scolds as he stores Jean’s bags. He climbs into the truck and reaches across the bench seat to scoop the animal into his arms. “We talked about this,” he mutters exasperatedly into her fur before letting her squirm away into the center seat, curling up against Knox’s thigh. She’s a tiny thing, dusty brown and striped, with large yellow eyes that stare back at Jean with an unnerving intelligence.

“Jean, this is Cleo. Cleo, Jean,” Knox introduces cheerfully when they’re settled, pulling out onto the freeway before abruptly frowning. “Shit. I hope you don’t mind cats.”

Knox confirms Jean’s growing suspicions unprompted a few weeks later.

“She’s my familiar,” Knox says, running a hand through mussed hair that’d be the same color as Cleo’s fur if not lightened by the sun.  

They’re the only two members of the team occupying the USC dorms over the summer, so the weeks leading up to the admission have been filled with getting to know both L.A. and Jeremy Knox–whether Jean likes it to not. The captain’s optimism is almost as overwhelming as his work ethic, and Jean is beginning to understand that once Knox sets his mind to something he doesn’t give up. Jean doesn’t know if he’s relieved or annoyed that this seems to be applied to him as well; Knox hasn’t left him alone, or even seemed like he really wanted to.

“Familiars are more or less supposed to act as guide and protector,” Knox explains between bites of pancake. They’re at a small diner around the block from the dorms, grabbing an early breakfast after their morning run. Jean tends to startle awake from nightmares before the sun even rises these days, and Knox is a naturally early riser (“I grew up on a farm–can’t shake the habit,” he’d explained). This combination had led to an unexpected amount of diner breakfasts with his captain “She mostly just helps with my anxiety, though.”

They’d left Cleo behind, napping in a sunspot on the living room floor. She’d barely twitched her tail when Knox passed a soft hand over her spine in goodbye before they’d left.

“Have you always had her?” Jean finds himself asking, and Knox visibly perks up at his contribution.

“Nah, I wish. I was eleven, I think?” He hums thoughtfully into his cup of tea. “She was just a kitten back then. She found me when I needed her–that’s usually how it works.”

Jean thinks its a bit absurd that a stray cat wandering into his life could have offered Knox any sort of guidance–but he’s not about to tell him that.

To Jean’s surprise, it’s Alvarez who corrects him on his assumption.

“She’s not a cat,” Alvarez snorts into her water bottle when they’re both on the bench, throwing him a judging stare. Her and Laila had come up to L.A. for the weekend, and the four of them had found their way to the practice courts. Jean is still begrudgingly under no-contact restriction, but he’d gotten in a good workout nonetheless. “Seriously, Moreau, haven’t had much exposure to magic, huh?”

Jean levels her a blank stare before turning back to watch Laila and Jeremy where they’re locked in a stalemate of shots and saves across the court. “You could say that.”

Alvarez hums, consideringly. “Okay, let me amend my previous statement: she’s not just a cat. I think the best way to put it is that she’s an extension of Jeremy? Like picture the universe reaching inside of him and taking out a part of his soul–it’s that part that manifested as Cleo.”

Jean doesn’t know what kind of expression is on his face–blank shock? Terror? It must not be too bad because Alvarez just laughs with a levity Jean can’t mirror.

“I know, weird right?” she grins at him, rolling her eyes. “From what I understand, Cleo is basically our beloved captain–plus some wisdom from the universe.” She shrugs. “I’ve kind of just accepted it at this point.”  

The apartment he shares with Knox is covered in plants. They’re lined on every windowsill, clustered in corners on the floor and the table. Knox cares for them all meticulously, watering them each at different intervals with differing amounts, talking quietly all the while. They seem to bloom a little brighter once he’s spoken to them. Knox seems to glow a little brighter once he’s spoken to them.

“You have to give them enough attention,” Knox explains when he catches Jean staring at him over the top of his book. “If they don’t know you believe in them, how can you expect them to grow?”

Jean doesn’t know what he expected his move to the Trojans to be like, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t an apartment filled with plants and sunlight. It wasn’t cups upon cups of tea, each somehow (magically? Jean really doesn’t know) always whichever kind Jean hadn’t known he’d wanted, but did. It wasn’t becoming familiar with Jeremy Knox, with his kindness, or the way that he often laughs at nothing in particular at all–it just happens sometimes, like all the light inside him bubbles over.

Jean didn’t expect these things, but he refuses to dwell on them long enough to discover if he minds.

“He’s a kitchen witch,” Jean admits to Renee a few months later, a declaration that’s met first with silence on the other end of their routine Skype call, and then– “What!”

A muffled bark of laughter and a scramble of feet. Onscreen Renee sighs, but it sounds amused, and suddenly Allison Reynolds is budging into frame.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the dealer says, sounding anything but. The smile on her face is near-predatory. “Did you just say that Jeremy Knox, USC’s patented Sunshine Boy, is, in fact, a kitchen witch?”

His roommate had never come out and said as much, but Jean had put together the pieces. He quirks an eyebrow at Renee and nods in confirmation.

Reynolds practically cackles at that, whipping out her phone. “Oh my god, Kevin’s going to die. It’s all his domestic fantasies come to life.” She stands, typing furiously as she walks offscreen. Jean hears a door shut, laughter fading, and then he and Renee are alone.

“You know,” Renee says after a moment, circumventing the tension that Kevin’s name tends to bring, “I had thought he’d be a werewolf. The Trojans always seemed to run like pack.”

“It was… unexpected,” Jean concedes. “Alvarez is the actual werewolf. There are others on the team as well, but Jeremy is still their alpha.” He sounds confused even to this own ears. (To be fair, it was very nontraditional. Alvarez’s explanation to Jean on the matter when she and Laila were on campus in July had consisted of a brusque, “It doesn’t matter that he’s not a wolf, Moreau, he’s our chosen alpha. We’re living in progressive times here, please.”)

“So he’s Jeremy, now?”

Of course that’s what Renee chose to parse from that explanation. She’s smiling at him, far too knowing, and Jean huffs. “You’re reaching, Walker.”

Renee hums thoughtfully, and it’s something that Jean appreciates: she listens, and when she chooses to reply each word has been fully considered. When she finally speaks it’s with a genuine smile.

“Los Angeles sounds like a wonderful place.”

Los Angeles is many things. Jean has been here six months, and that’s about all he’s been able to solidly conclude.

Los Angeles is no-contact play until mid-July as prescribed by the team physician, months longer than would have been allowed at the Nest. It’s weekly appointments with his therapist stipulated in his contract.

Los Angeles is Jeremy Knox’s frown of concern whenever Jean pushes himself to the point of strain, the delighted grin when Jean surprises him. It’s a shared apartment on the eighth floor, one that’s lined with large windows and filled with plants. It’s cat fur being one more reason to stop wearing black.

Los Angeles is joining a starting line including but not limited to a kitchen witch, a seer, and a werewolf. It’s Jean never once being asked to confirm or deny who or what he is.

Los Angeles takes some getting used to.

Jeremy gives him a cactus for Halloween.

He leaves it on Jean’s side table for him to find when he wakes up from his post-class, pre-practice nap (Because that’s a thing he does now. Naps.). It’s a tiny thing, maybe an inch and a half across, in a blue painted pot. He put a bow on it and everything. Jean squints at it and goes to find his roommate.

Jeremy is entrenched in his thesis work, glasses on, chewing distractedly on a pen–he barely notices Jean approaching until Jean sticks the plant practically under his nose.

“What is this?”

Jeremy blinks up at him owlishly. “A… cactus?” the confusion clears and he frowns. “Wait, don’t you like it?”

Jean sighs and sits on the other end of the couch. “Yes, I–thank you. I meant, why?”

Jeremy just blinks again. “It’s Samhain,” he says, as if that should be obvious.

“It’s what?”

“It’s Halloween!” Jeremy chirps, smiling now.

Jean frowns; he doesn’t think Jeremy is understanding his point. “Yes, but… do people usually give each other gifts on Halloween?” Not that Jean’s celebrated it, but from the way Laila and Alvarez had talked, it seemed like a children’s holiday–or an excuse to dress up in costume and party.

Jeremy leans back on the couch and looks across at Jean. “Not everybody… but we do in my family,” he shrugs. “It’s a bigger deal for some of them, but it’s not like I can really drop by to celebrate so–I dunno. Thought it’d be nice to celebrate with you too.” He smiles at Jean, backlit by the setting sun coming through the window, and he–Jean could swear he was glowing, radiating light.

Jean shakes his head, looking at the cactus in his lap instead. He cups his hands carefully around the pot. “Thank you,” he says, and Jeremy hums happily, turning back to his work.

Jean manages to make it until January without anyone finding out about him, which, honestly, is better than he’d let himself hope. But better doesn’t stop the panic that rises when Jeremy (because yes, he’s Jeremy now) stumbles into their bedroom unawares, back early from errands, breaking off his rant about grocery lines mid-sentence as he notices Jean on the floor.

Cradling a birdcage.

“Jean?” Jeremy asks cautiously, head tipped to the side in curiosity. His eyes are locked on the cage. “Is that–a bird?”

Jean’s mouth is suddenly dry, and he finds himself floundering for words. His grip on the cage goes white-knuckled.

“It’s a dove,” he manages, finally. Obviously. He wants to run but he’s frozen.

“A dove,” Jeremy repeats, leaning against the doorframe to their bedroom. He looks a bit bewildered, considering; Jean finds himself distracted by how Jeremy hasn’t tried to come any closer after finding him. Suddenly Jeremy straightens, a small grin growing on his face.

“Jean Moreau, have you been hiding a familiar?”

It’s said innocently, half in jest. Jean thinks he could take it as an out, thinks that might have been Jeremy’s intention. Jean knows his roommate well enough now to know that if Jean wanted to keep this secret, he could.

Which is why it’s all the more strange and terrifying that he finds himself spilling the truth.  

What he was was human. A cloverhand with the ability to see the fae, to see magic. To his family, this made him valuable. It made him a bartering piece.

What he became was collateral. A prisoner to the game and to the Nest, kept pet to the self-proclaimed Raven King. He was both guard and whipping boy. They broke him, again, again, and still they demanded more. They tore the soul from his body, trapped it in a cage. To instill obedience, they said. Perfect loyalty in a perfect court.

What he is is a gallowglass. Soulless. Even freedom couldn’t change that.

It’s awkward afterward. Of course it is. Jeremy is frozen in the doorway, wide-eyed, hands clutched tight to his sleeves. Jean can’t blame him, because now Jeremy knows. Not everything, no details, but enough. He knows that Jean is soulless, because his soul is sitting in a cage on his lap in the middle of their bedroom.

“Okay,” Jeremy says finally, snapping out of his daze. “Okay.” Jean braces himself for judgement, and–

“This calls for tea.”

Jeremy flees the room for the kitchen, Cleo close on his heels. Jean blinks.

“What.”  

A result of living with a kitchen witch is the way the teakettle water seems to boil in no time at all as Jeremy flits around their small dining area, pulling herbs from various jars on various shelves, pinching and rolling them into two identical teabags.

“Do you want a cup?” Jeremy asks belatedly, distractedly when Jean stumbles into the kitchen after him. He doesn’t wait for Jean to answer before continuing, shaking his head. “No, of course I’ll make you a cup. Tea always makes things better.”

Jeremy doesn’t look at him until they’re seated across from each other at their tiny kitchen table,  knees almost knocking, their steaming, sweet-smelling mugs in hand.

“Okay,” Jeremy starts, taking a big breath. He holds it. Exhales. “Jean.”

Fuck, this is really happening. “Yes?”

“In the cage. That dove is your soul?”

Jean nods, staring down into his tea.

“Okay,” Jeremy repeats, then frowns. “Jean?”

“What?”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve been hiding your soul stuffed under your bed in some box.”

Jean opens his mouth to defend himself, then closes it again because that is exactly what he has been doing.

“Jean,” Jeremy cries, looking stricken. The teakettle begins to heat unbidden, sensing his distress. “The poor thing could’ve suffocated!”

Jean sighs. “It’s not a real bird, Jeremy, it doesn’t need–“

“Damn right it’s not a bird, Jean. That’s your soul! You’ve been keeping your soul stuffed under the bed!” Jeremy exclaims disbelievingly, surprisingly fierce.

Jean frowns. What is there to say? Once more, the perplexity of Jeremy Knox rears its head. It doesn’t take much to get him riled up–but it’s only ever defensive, on behalf of other people. He has no issue standing toe to toe with Jean, but only ever does it for the sake of protecting Jean from himself. So Jean just lowers his eyes and says nothing.

Seeing this, Jeremy deflates.

“Drink your tea, okay? It’ll get cold,” Jeremy says, voice gone gentle. His knee nudges Jean’s under the table.

Neither speaks again until their cups are near-empty.

“Why-” Jeremy starts, then snaps his mouth shut. He says instead, “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Jean is wary of what his question could be, but nods anyway.

“You said you got your soul back once Renee got you out of the Nest. You have it with you here, now. If that’s true, why haven’t you… put it back?” Jean is already shaking his head even as Jeremy continues, “I don’t really know how it works, but…”

“I can’t. I’ve tried,” Jean says.

The look on Jeremy’s face is all kinds of devastating, honestly, and Jean isn’t good with sympathy, never having been shown it; he looks away.

“There has to be a way,” Jeremy insists, but Jean just shakes his head again. He keeps his eyes on the row of succulents Jeremy has lined along the kitchen window instead of the kitchen witch himself.

“I’ve tried. Renee has tried,” Jean emphasizes, both of them knowing what a strong witch Renee Walker was known to be. He frowns, frustrated. “There are ways to make a gallowglass, but they can’t be unmade. It’s faerie magic–what’s done can’t simply be undone.”

“Faerie magic,” Jeremy mutters to himself, staring into his tea.

Jean waits for him to reach a verdict: at best, Jean is expecting to be asked to leave, to switch rooms. At worst, he’s expecting to be kicked off the team. The dread is just settling in his stomach when a fluffy bundle pounces into his lap. It turns in a neat circle once, curling up before settling in to nap.

“Cleo,” Jeremy scolds, but he’s half-hiding a smile behind the rim of his mug. The tension is broken and the dread lifts from Jean’s shoulders.

“It’s okay.” Jean surprises himself saying it, because it is. But then a thought strikes him. “Is-is it okay?”

Cleo is Jeremy’s familiar, an extension of himself. His mind makes the connections unbidden, the way it had all those month ago when Alvarez had spelled it out for him. Jeremy to Cleo to Jean to the dove. The cat is a part of Jeremy’s soul, warm and grounding and tucked against Jean’s stomach.

“Of course it’s okay,” Jeremy murmurs. “It’s you.” He’s looking at Jean with clear eyes, fiddling with a teaspoon. Something warm settles in Jean’s chest, a knot loosening as Jeremy smiles at him, gathering his mug and heading to the counter to fix another cup.

Of course, he says. It’s you.

As easy as that.

(“Don’t put it back in the dark,” Jeremy says that night, voice gentle as the touch at Jean’s elbow, anchoring him to their room, to this moment. Jean puts the cage on the dresser instead.

Much later, when nightmares more vicious than usual shatter him awake, Jean hears a dull thump and the patter of feet before Cleo is curling up on the bed next to him. She butts her head against his stomach, and Jean focuses on the way her tiny chest rises and falls with each breath as his shaking slowly subsides.

He lowers a hand to her head, gentles it down her back, and lets the quiet rumble of her purring piece him back to the present.)

Having his soul on display is… incredibly distracting. Which is to say that for the week following Jean can hardly keep his eyes off it when they’re in the same room. He’s self-conscious of it at first, before he notices Jeremy having a similar problem.

Cleo is the giveaway, of course. She’d been obviously curious the first couple days, but a few firm looks from Jeremy had kept her at a distance. Then Jean had come home from class on a Thursday to find Cleo on his dresser, budged right up to the cage and napping in the sunlight.

“She thinks it’s lovely,” Jeremy explains later when they’ve both settled into their beds. Tucked to Jeremy’s stomach, Cleo shifts in protest, letting out a soft chirping rumble. Jeremy rolls his eyes. “The loveliest thing,” he corrects. “I would say, ‘Her words, not mine,’ but I don’t think that excuse works in our case.”

Jeremy grins at him from across the space between their beds. The bedside lamp could be playing tricks on him, but Jean thinks he sees a flush dusting Jeremy’s cheeks.  

From the cage across the room there is a soft flutter of wings.

The thing is, Jeremy talks to the dove.

Jean doesn’t think he’s meant to find out, but he does. It’s an eerie reversal of the night Jeremy saw the dove, but this time it’s Jean almost walking into their room unannounced. He stops himself just in time when he hears Jeremy’s voice.

He’s sitting on the end of Jean’s bed, next to the birdcage… talking. Just talking, almost in the way he does with his plants.

He’s saying, I really want to win this season, for all of us, and I can’t imagine what this year would have been without him, you know?, and I wish you could tell me how to open this cage–I think that would make Jean very happy.

The moment feels soft. Fragile. Jean leaves quietly, before Jeremy can finish, and before he can hear any more.

They’re finishing some late night homework in the living room when Jeremy brings up the idea. Jean is laid across the couch with a lit reading, Cleo curled up by his knee, and Jeremy is sprawled across the floor surrounded by thesis work.

“Hey, what are you doing for Spring Break?” Jeremy asks out of the blue, and Jean cranes his head back to stare at him.

“You think I have plans?” Jean replies, turning back to his book. On the floor, Jeremy huffs a laugh, fidgets. Silence. Then–

“What if you visited Renee? I mentioned it to her, she’d love to see you.”

Jean files away those bits of information, that Jeremy and Renee talk, and that Jeremy and Renee talk about him.

“Okay,” is all he says, and Jeremy looks satisfied, turning back to his work. “I’ll text her.”

It’s no surprise to either of them when he’s on a flight to North Dakota two weeks later.

It’s a good week–Jean is surprised by how good. It’s relaxing, just Renee, Stephanie, and him. He gets daily updates from Laila and Alvarez on their trip to Arizona to see Laila’s family, and the Trojan group chat is as active as ever with everyone sharing whatever outlandish thing they’d done that week. The only oddity is Jeremy–or rather the lack of him.

It’s been complete radio silence from the captain since he’d said goodbye to Jean at the airport drop-off. At first Jean isn’t concerned; Jeremy hadn’t talked about his Spring Break plans, but Jean figures he’s plenty busy spending time with his family. But it’s still weird. Regardless of if Jean replies, Jeremy constantly blows up his phone with Snaps or texts or random links to pictures of cute dogs.

On Wednesday, Jean is watching a movie with Renee in the living room when he gets a text from Alvarez.

8:42 P.M.: have u talked to jer??? we havent heard from him all week

8:43 P.M.: and hes not answering his phone

8:43 P.M.: and like… now that im checking i cant feel him through the pack link?

8:44 P.M.: NOT IN A “HES DEAD” KINDA WAY

8:44 P.M: its just kinda fuzzy. like theres a blur where he should be

Jean feels cold all over, and then the dread start to pool disproportionately in the pit of his stomach. There’s no reason to be worried, Jean assures himself, Jeremy is just busy. And for some reason he’s blocking the pack link. It’s coincidence.

He pulls up Jeremy’s contact and presses call. Jean finds himself holding his breath, but the call doesn’t even ring, just goes straight to voicemail. Jeremy’s cheery answering recording chatters across the line, and Jean hangs up without leaving a message. There is a knot in his chest, tightening with each passing moment. His phone buzzes as Alvarez sends him another message.

8:45 P.M.: were lowkey freaking out jean

8:46 P.M.: jeremy doesnt do this kinda shit

“Jean?” Renee asks, and Jean jumps at her voice. From the open doorway to Jean’s guest room across the room the rattling of metal can be heard. The dove must be agitated, Jean observes absently.  “Jean, are you alright?”

“Alvarez texted,” he says, and a small part of him is surprised at how blank he sounds. “No one’s heard from Jeremy all break. His phone is dead, or off. They’re worried. She said–Alvarez can’t feel him over the pack bond.” His phone buzzes again.

8:49 P.M.: ANSWER YOUR PHONE MOREAU

8:51 P.M.: I haven’t heard from him. His phone went straight to voicemail.

When Jean looks up he expects worry from Renee–surprise, or words of assurance. She is fond of Jeremy Knox (who isn’t?). And when he looks over, the worry is there. But the surprise is suspiciously absent. The shock of that freezes him.

“What?” he chokes. “What do you know?”

Renee takes a deep breath and frowns, folding her hands in her lap as she turns to face Jean head on.

“He didn’t want you to find out,” she starts, and Jean stares at her.

“What did he do, Renee?” Jean repeats, a hollow desperation clawing at his insides like it hadn’t in months. “Where is he?”

“He didn’t say exactly where, but I assumed…”

“Renee.”

“If Alvarez can’t feel him, he’s probably in the Summer Court.”

The dread from before spills over; Jean’s world narrows to a point. He knows firsthand the cruelty of the faerie courts. Even the Summer Court, the most benevolent of them all, is the last place Jean would send Jeremy, and yet he’s gone, unasked, on Jean’s behalf. It’s suicide.

Renee is speaking to him again, but Jean can’t understand her. His phone is buzzing incessantly on his lap. Laila is calling him. He fumbles with it, but manages to answer.

“Jean! What the hell, where have you–“

“I know where he is.”

Staticky silence.

“Oh thank god, where is he?”    

Jean swallows and closes his eyes. “The Summer Court. He–planned it, or something. With Renee, I don’t know. He’s seeking audience with the Faerie Queen.” As soon as he says it he knows it’s true.

He hears Alvarez yelling over the line, and Laila is asking more questions Jean doesn’t know the answer to. As for one, as for why, well. There’s really only one reason it could be.

“He’s–so stupid.” Jean scrubs a hand over his eyes. He’s trembling. “He’s doing it for me, the fucking idiot, if I’d known I would have never…”

Never left California. Never let Jeremy risk this.

Beside him, Renee shifts and says softly, “Don’t you think that’s why he didn’t tell you?”

Jean digs his fingers into his thigh, grounding himself. “Stupid,” he repeats.

“Jeremy has the monopoly on stupidity, Jean,” Laila says, sounding calmer now despite her worry. “We knew that. He cares too much.”

Jean huffs a laugh, a slight choked thing.

“What do we do now?” he asks. Laila is quiet for a while.

“We trust that he knew what he was doing. We trust him. And we wait.”

Renee tells him that the conversation with Jeremy went something like this:

“Hey Renee–would it be okay if Jean came and stayed with you for Spring Break?”

“Of course, he’s always welcome. But, Jeremy–can I ask why you’re the one asking, not him? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry–didn’t mean to worry you. Jean’s doing really well actually. He seems… happier lately.”

“That’s good. Then why do you need to get him out of California?”

Of course Renee saw right through him. Jeremy was quiet for a long moment, then continued.

“There’s something I need to do. And I don’t think that Jean would approve of me doing it.”

“Will he be safe if you do it?”

“If I do it right, I think it’ll really help him. I just… need some answers.”

“And what about you?”

“Hm?”

“He won’t like it much if you get hurt, Jeremy.”

“Oh!” Jeremy had laughed. “Well I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Jean gets the call four days later.

It’s been six hours since he landed in L.A. It’s been forty-five minutes since a door appeared on the dove’s cage; Jean hasn’t been able to take his eyes off it. He hasn’t dared open it, merely brought it with him to the couch where they’ve been ever since.

The callerID flashes as his phone begins to buzz. Jean answers on the first ring.

“Knox,” Jean says, and he doesn’t want to imagine what he sounds like. Awed, angry, concerned, fond. Jeremy had done it. Somehow, he had.

“Jean,” Jeremy says, his voice warm, tired. Jean could collapse under the weight of it.

“You’re back then.” His fingers clutch at the phone, and he wills his voice to remain steady.

“I am.”

Jean wants to ask him, wants to say, What have you done? What did you give them? Nothing comes without a price. What comes out is: “Where are you?” Somehow that feels more important at the moment.

“Um… about an hour outside Fresno? I think. I’m looking for where I left the truck.”

Jean doesn’t reply, and the silence hangs on the line.

“Jean, I’m–“ Jeremy starts, and Jean cuts him off because he can’t hear apologies from Jeremy right now. Not about this.

“Is Cleo with you?” There’s a moment, and then Jeremy laughs. Jean can hear his exhaustion, but it still warms him to his core.

(He could have been dead, he could have been gone, but he’s here, he’s on the other end of the line– )

“Yeah, she’s here.” A soft of sort relief settles over Jean’s bones. “She’s missed you.”

There are many things that Jean wants to say in that moment.

(I missed her, too.

You’re such a fucking idiot.

Please tell me you’re alright.

I never expected anything like you.)

What he says is: “Come home.”

The first thing Jean does when Jeremy walks through the door is hand him a cup of tea. Jeremy blinks at him, then at the cup, eyes lidded with sleep. He takes it, smiling, and Jean can finally breathe again.

At his feet there is Cleo, rubbing up against his calf, butting her head against him, meowing impatiently until he picks her up. She settles instantly, tucked in the crook of his arm.

“What did you give them?” Jean asks, because in the end that’s what it comes down to. But Jeremy just shakes his head, dismissive.

“Did it work?” he counters, eyes wide, and Jean gestures to the living room.

“Go see for yourself.” Jeremy does.

“There’s a door,” he says, quietly, knelt in front of the cage. He looks up at Jean, elated. “There’s actually a door!”

“Did you think there wouldn’t be?” Jean asks, sitting on the couch; Cleo jumps out of his arms to curl up on a cushion. Jean knows if there was even a chance he hadn’t succeeded, Jeremy wouldn’t have come back.

Jeremy moves to sit next to him, the cage between them. “Well no, but… they weren’t very specific with the how of it. Just that it would.”

“Jeremy,” Jean says after a moment on silence. “Faeries only work in equal exchange. What did you give them?”

“Nothing.” Jeremy looks suddenly frustrated, shifting to face him. “Nothing, Jean, I didn’t give them anything because there was nothing to exchange. It’s your soul. It’s yours.” Jeremy breathes deeply to calm himself down, and slumps back against the couch. “I just reminded them who they were dealing with.”

Jean is still, blinking at Jeremy’s vehemence. Then the wording strikes him.

“Who–who they’re dealing with?” Jean looks at the boy next to him, eyes glinting, practically alight in his frustration, in the name of protecting Jean. “Who are they dealing with?”

Immediately Jeremy’s eyes widen and he looks away. “I…” He chews his lip then sighs a long breath, resigned. “I never really told you, did I…? What I am.”

“You’re a witch. A kitchen witch,” Jean says, but Jeremy is shaking his head. Jean frowns, not understanding. “But you have a familiar. And the tea, and your plants…” he trails off, watching Jeremy carefully.

“My gram,” Jeremy starts, staring resolutely across the room. “My great, great, great grandmother–was a cloverhand. Like you.” He pauses, lets that sink in. “She caught the eye of one of the daoine sídhe, the fae. He was disguised as human, under glamour probably, but she saw through him instantly. She chose to let him court her, met him every step of the way… and eventually she became one of them.

“He wasn’t the Summer King at the time, but… A couple hundred years later, and he was. And she is Queen. And all of this is to say,” Jeremy takes a deep breath, finally looking at Jean. “That I have faerie blood, and a claim to the Court if I ever wanted it.” Jean’s eyes widen at that, and Jeremy quickly continues, hands held placatingly. “I don’t! I don’t want that, I already have the Trojan Court.”

Jean is silent as his brain scrambles to process this new information. Jeremy isn’t a witch–he’d never been a witch, Jean had just assumed. Jeremy is part fae, with a claim to the Summer Court. He’d used that influence to give Jean a chance.

When Jean doesn’t say anything Jeremy begins to fidget nervously. “Look, you’re probably freaking out, or like–like reading too much into it? But honestly I didn’t do anything, I just told them what they should already fucking know, because it’s your soul, Jean, like what the fuck–“

“Jeremy,” Jean tries to interrupt before the other boy can get too worked up–he was well on his way already.

“Yeah?” Jeremy is looking at him, nervous, and Jean wants to ask him why. Jean wants a lot of things lately, more than he’d ever thought possible–he wonders when that happened.

“Thank you,” is what he says instead.

And Jeremy smiles.

Jean doesn’t open the cage that night, or the night after that, or anytime in the week following. When he finally does it feels almost… too normal. It’s after practice on a Friday; they have no game that weekend, so there’s two days free to themselves. It’s a novel concept, one he never could have foreseen a year ago.

Jeremy is napping on the couch, Cleo snoozing on his stomach. Jean had left them out there to do some work at his desk, but found himself too distracted to get much done. His eyes keep straying to the cage on his desk, on the door and the dove behind it.

Almost before he realizes it he’s crossed the room, fingers twisting the latch; the door springs free. The dove is watching him cautiously, wings fluttering. Jean reaches inside, his hands gently cupped around its wings as he pulls it from the cage. His heart is pounding in his ears. The dove is shaking in his hands, warm and vividly alive. He brings it to his chest and presses it close.

One moment the dove is there, the next Jean’s palms are pressed empty to his chest. He’s notices he’s gasping, knees trembling. It feels like the first breath of air you take when you step outside in winter, like falling back asleep in the morning when there’s nothing to call you out of bed. Jean feels overwhelmed, he feels light, he feels… happy.

“Jean?” he hears Jeremy call sleepily from the living room, and then padded footsteps approach. “I’m sorry,” Jeremy says, rubbing sleepily at his eyes, “I fell asleep in the middle of our conversation, didn’t I? Thesis is just kicking my ass, and with playoffs coming up…” he trails off, noticing the sight in front of him: Jean shaking, the cage open and empty in front of him.

“You did it,” Jeremy whispers, eyes wide. “You did it!” he cheers, rushing forward, throwing an arm across his shoulders, and then Jean is turning into him, hands gripping at his waist and they’re hugging, gripping each other tight. Jeremy is laughing in his ear, and Jean–

Jean holds on.

(on ao3 here)

[thecuriouscrusader]

The Protector

Pairing: Dean x Castiel

Word Count: 2572

Prompt: “Good. Keep close to the others. And I mean close. Not just in the same room. Stay in the same part of the room. Promise?” - Phantoms by Dean Koontz, page 211.

Tags: Wolf AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Established Relationship, Sabriel (Side Pairing), Violence, Protective Dean, Alpha Dean, Omega Cas, Injured Dean, Mention of Forced Breeding, No Smut

Summary: When Lucifer’s pack starts kidnapping omegas Dean fights to protect Cas, but he is the one who might need rescuing.

A/N: Written for @angelschallenge Storybook Challenge. Thank you for the awesome prompt, I had fun writing something different! And thank you again to @mrsgabrieltrickster for beta-ing x

As wolf packs go they were certainly an unusual bunch. Dean while a fiercely protective leader would welcome those who were rejected by their old packs either because they were alphas not viewed as strong enough, or betas told they were useless since they could not hunt like alphas or breed like omegas.

Dean and his younger brother Sam had been strays themselves after losing both of their parents, until Bobby and Ellen had raised them into their pack and treated them as their own. As Dean grew older he wanted to follow in their footsteps and start a pack of his own, to care for those who no one else would.

He had stumbled across an abandoned bunker on the outskirts of Lebanon while hunting. It was a huge place equipped with everything a pack could need to thrive such as comfy beds, weapons, and working electronic appliances, but there were a few extra touches which needed to be made like blankets and photographs to make it feel like a really family nest.

It had taken five years for the pack to grow to what they were now. They were a small bunch compared to most packs in the Nebraska territory, but they were a close unit that shared an unbreakable familial bond. What they did not have in numbers they had in loyalty.

Their pack was made of four alphas; Dean, Benny who was his second in command, Krissy, a young but highly determined runaway, and Gabriel, Sam’s mate and Castiel’s older brother. Gabe lacked the usual violent alpha drive but he was sly and protective. Then were the four betas, Sam, Garth, Charlie, and Kevin .The latter three had been travelling together for a while before meeting Dean and the other alphas on a hunt. 

Lastly was Dean’s loving mate, and the only omega in their pack, Castiel. Dean had run into Gabriel in the forest when he had been frantically searching for someone to help his injured little brother. Castiel had fallen over a stray root and twisted his ankle leaving him unable to walk or protect himself.

Dean had been instantly drawn to the poor omega, trembling with fear after being left alone. Plenty of packs roamed those woods, not all of them good - one small whiff of unmated omega and Castiel could have been done for. While Dean and his pack did not look down on omega’s the world did not share their view.

Dean had instantly felt a surge of protectiveness at seeing the scared omega. He had scooped Castiel up in his arms and carried him all the way back to the bunker. Underneath the cloud of fear Dean could smell the honey and Rose petals which bloomed from Castiel’s natural scent, and he had tasted just as sweet when they mated not long after. 

Dean loved Castiel with all his heart and he would do anything to keep his family safe. If anyone dared to threaten their harmony then they had better hope God was on their side. 

Dean and Castiel were curled up on their bed. Castiel was dozing in Dean’s arms whilst the alpha brushed back his mate’s hair and peppered kisses all across his cheek and nose. Castiel smiled softly as he basked in his alpha’s warmth. It was these moments of silent bliss that they cherished the most. Their state of serenity was shattered when there was a frantic knock on the door.

“Dudes, family meeting, now!" Charlie ordered.

Castiel and Dean shared a concerned look before they quickly straightened themselves out and went to meet the others in the library. 

"What’s going on?” Dean asked.

“Benny and I were out hunting cattle in the usual fields but when we got there they had all been slaughtered” Krissy said. 

“But that ain’t even the real problem” Benny added, “the whole area reeked of sulphur.”

A tense silence filled the room. Castiel gripped tightly onto Dean’s arm and the alpha noticed that his mate’s scent had shifted back to that dark cloud of fear from when they first met. 

All of the wolf packs across North America knew that particular scent belonged to an evil group whose leader has dubbed himself Lucifer. They were ruthless when it came to murdering humans, and they were all obnoxious alpha’s who kidnapped omegas - mated or not - and forced them to breed.

“We went to Bobby’s to see if they knew anything” Krissy said. “He heard from another pack that Lucifer was heading this way and…and several omegas have gone missing." 

Castiel gasped and brought a hand to his mouth. All omegas felt emotionally connected in some way as they were the most vulnerable and looked down upon; for Castiel to hear that they were missing was like losing his own brothers and sisters.

"I’m so sorry, sweetheart” Dean whispered as he wrapped his arm around Castiel and pulled him close.

“What if they come for Cas?” Gabriel asked voicing everyone’s concern. 

“Then we’ll kill them” Dean snarled. He held Castiel possessively against his chest and no one dared to speak for a while until the protective alpha scent faded slightly.

“I say we don’t even give them the chance to come here” Benny said eventually. “We find'em first and take'em down." 

"Sounds good to me” Krissy smirked. 

Dean did not know how to respond when all he could focus on was his mate trembling in his arms.

“Give me ten minutes with Cas and I’ll get back to you” Dean said.

He led the omega back to their room and they sat down on the bed together.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, sweetheart” Dean urged as he brushed back Castiel’s hair.

“I…I think Benny is right” Castiel said as he looked into Dean’s eyes; the alpha hated seeing all the pain and fear swimming in the blue eyes that held such warmth earlier. “But I don’t want him to be.”

Dean frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Lucifer’s pack needs to be stopped. They’re never going to cease taking omegas and murdering innocent humans, but… they’re also extremely dangerous and the thought of any of you getting hurt because you were trying to protect me…" 

He trailed off and bowed his head as tears began to escape him.

"Hey…” Dean said soothingly as he wrapped Castiel up in his arms. “Cas, I love you, and everyone else here loves you. If there is any chance that Lucifer wants to take you from us then we’re gonna fight him. We’re family; that means we look out for each other, and we can’t let Lucifer tear any more families apart.”

Castiel looked up into Dean’s eyes; there was a mixture of rage and worry in the emerald eyes he loved. He knew that it would equate to Dean battling whoever he needed to protect him, but he also knew Dean would not risk the rest of their pack if he did not believe they could win.

“Okay” Castiel said quietly. 

Dean smiled reassuringly and kissed Castiel sweetly on the lips. 

They returned to the others in the library. They all sat around the table in a sombre silence except for Benny who was pacing. 

“Benny, Krissy, Gabe, you’re with me” Dean said taking on his true alpha tone. “The rest of you are our second line of defense. I want you to take Cas and hide. Try to mask his scent as much as you can. Sammy, you’re in charge.”

“Maybe I should stay with Cas?” Gabriel spoke up. It was rare to hear the usually cheery alpha sound so distressed. 

“They’re going to need your skills” Sam said as he took his mate’s hand. “Cas is my brother too. I’ll look after him, I promise." 

 Gabriel smiled at him. "Thanks, Sammich." 

"Alright, everyone get ready” Dean said.

While the others were preparing Castiel pulled Dean to the side.

“Make sure you all come back in one piece” he implored.

“Was that you alpha-ing me?” Dean teased hoping to clear the tension. Castiel frowned. “Of course we will” Dean said as he pulled Castiel into his arms. “You still got some scent suppressants to help hide yourself?” Castiel nodded against his chest. “Good. Keep close to the others. And I mean close. Not just in the same room. Stay in the same part of the room. Promise?" 

"I promise." 

They kissed each other deeply before reluctantly breaking apart. 

Dean headed up the stairs to meet with the other alphas.

"We’ve got this brother” Benny said as he placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Benny had been kicked out of his old pack after losing his mate, Andrea; the pack had blamed him. He met Dean when he had saved the younger alpha from some hunters and as a thank you Dean had invited him to join them. At first Benny wanted to decline, but he knew that Andrea would want him to move on and he felt that making a fresh start with a new family would be the best way to start redeeming himself for letting her down.

He of all people understood how much this meant to Dean, and he was going to be right by his side whatever. 

“Thanks, man” Dean said with a small smile. “Alright, let’s move out." 

They shifted into their wolf forms and decided to scout out the area in pairs; Benny and Krissy headed off east while Dean and Gabriel went west. There was a distinct trail of sulphur which grew stronger the closer they got to the centre of the woods; Dean knew it must be a trap. He paused to think about their next move. 

Gabriel suddenly started growling and Dean turned around to see two female alphas - Abaddon and Dagon, they were amongst the first to join Lucifer’s pack. 

"Winchester” Abaddon smirked. “It’s a real honour. For a pack so weak we hear that you’re doing quite well." 

"Go die in a ditch” Gabriel snarled.

Dean gave Gabriel a look of warning to tread carefully.

“You should leave” Dean said. “Unless you want to see first-hand what we’re capable of.”

Dagon laughed. “You can’t intimidate us. A hot-headed Winchester who always acts before he thinks and the runt of the litter” she nodded at Gabriel.

Gabriel bared his teeth and took a few steps forward but Dean kept him back with his tail.

“If you just let us have your omega then we won’t have to bother killing the rest of you” Abaddon said. “We hear that he’s such a pretty little thing." 

At that moment Dean had to keep himself in check even though his alpha rage wanted to rip their throats out for even talking about Cas.

"You’re not getting anywhere near him” he replied sternly as he widened his stance.

“Typical Winchester” Dagon scoffed. “Self-sacrificing so you don’t have to be around to deal with the consequences." 

"So, are we gonna do this?” Abaddon asked. “Or are you going to do the smart thing and step aside?" 

"So you can kidnap Cas!?” Gabriel exclaimed. “The hell we are!" 

Before Dean could stop him Gabriel launched himself at Dagon. They landed in a heap on the floor and tried to claw and bite at each other wherever they could reach. 

Dean tried to go and help Gabriel but Abaddon pounced at him. Dean growled and shook her off, but Abaddon was relentless as she sunk her teeth into Dean’s tail. He managed to kick Abaddon’s face using his hind legs. He turned around and aimed his teeth at her neck, but Abaddon was quicker as she bit into Dean’s side. Dean howled in pain and fell to the floor. 

Before the fight could escalate the air filled with a familiar scent; one which Dean knew better than any other. 

"Stop!” Castiel yelled as he appeared in the clearing. He was still in his human form making himself look even more vulnerable. “Please, I’ll go with you. Just please leave them alone!" 

"Cas…no” Dean pleaded. 

“Mmm, you smell soooo good” Dagon said as she was lured away from Gabriel.

“So sweet” Abaddon added as she let go of Dean and started to walk towards Castiel too.

“I’m glad you think so” Castiel said without a hint of fear. “Because that means you’ve been paying no attention to Sam and Charlie.”

Abaddon and Dagon whipped around and saw two other wolves approaching. 

“Looks like you’re outnumbered ladies” Dean said as he hauled himself to his feet.

He leapt at Abaddon with Sam while Charlie helped Gabriel go after Dagon.

There wasn’t much of a fight after that, each of Lucifer’s lackeys laid dead within minutes. 

Dean turned back into his human form and immediately stumbled to the ground clutching his side.

“Dean!” Castiel called as he ran to his mate. 

“You broke your promise” Dean said through gritted teeth as he tried to fight through the pain.

“Yes, but we got here just in time to stop you from breaking yours” Castiel pointed out as he wrapped his arm around Dean’s back and leaned the alpha against his chest. “I’m sorry but we couldn’t just sit back on this one. I gave the betas’ a bigger dose of my suppressants to mask their scents. Garth and Kevin have gone to help Benny and Krissy." 

"But using yourself as bait Cas? That was friggin’ nuts! If you’d been hurt I’d have never forgiven myself." 

"Well I’m not hurt so just don’t think about it, but you are” Castiel said worriedly. “Let me see." 

"How are the others?” Dean asked; naturally he had to check on everyone else first. 

Castiel looked over at Sam and Charlie who were tending to Gabriel. Sam gave Castiel an affirmative nod.

“They’re fine” Cas reported. “Can you please focus on yourself now?" 

Dean lifted his arm slowly and exposed the bleeding bite mark on his side. Luckily the thickness of his wolf skin had protected him from the worst of the attack.  

"Looks like Sam’s going to need to get his stitching kit out again” Castiel lightly teased. 

Dean groaned. “No, just leave me here." 

"Not a chance” Castiel said as he kissed the side of his mate’s head. “When we first met and I was injured you carried me, so now I’m returning the favour." 

Castiel took a few steps back and changed into his wolf form. He lay flat on the ground so Dean could hoist himself onto his back and then the four of them started the journey back to the bunker. 

A couple of hours later Dean and Castiel were once again laid in bed together, but this time Dean had a bandage wrapped around his middle. 

"Thank you, for saving us” Dean said. 

Castiel looked surprised. “You’re not angry?”

Dean sighed. “I was never really angry, just worried.”

“Well, believe it or not I do worry about you too” Castiel said. “We’re mates; partners in everything. We’re bonded so whatever you feel for me I feel for you too." 

"I know” Dean said with a small smile. “I love you." 

"I love you too” Castiel said. They shared a delicate loving kiss. “Now, are you going to let me take care of you, and be a man about it?" 

"Yes” Dean drawled. 

“Do you want to cuddle?" 

"Yes” Dean murmured.

“Do you want to be the little spoon?" 

”…Please.“ 

[inactivedaddymemeyard]

I Don’t Fucking Care

Kevin and Aaron are Bisexual and in love. Spread the word. This is basically the beginning of Kevaaron with references to past Katelyn/Aaron set to Idfc by Blackbear.

Ao3: here

He is the Kevin Day. He doesn’t get crushes. He is bisexual, but he’d always favored the women over the men while in The Nest. He was too scared all the time to think about his sexuality or anything remotely close to it for the first two years he was out. But now he’s not only out. He’s safe. He is the Kevin Day and he is confused. He keeps finding himself drawn to Aaron. It doesn’t make sense to him at all. Aaron has always been cold to him. And yet Kevin can’t remember a single time during those first two years that he wasn’t around Andrew. Kevin had heard from Nicky years ago that Aaron opened up more when Andrew wasn’t around.

Kevin found himself agreeing with that now that Andrew and Aaron’s deal was over. Kevin had seen Aaron blossom under Katelyn’s affections and had felt jealousy. At first he thought his jealousy was directed at the fact that even Aaron had someone who loved him, but recently Kevin has started to realize that maybe it wasn’t Aaron he was jealous of, but Katelyn. The epiphany had knocked Kevin on his ass. He’d already known that he found Aaron attractive because he’d found Andrew attractive all those years ago when he’d tried to recruit him for the Ravens. As with Andrew, Kevin found the bud of attraction he’d felt squashed by how much he disliked their personalities. Andrew and Aaron were similar in their looks and in their abrasive, shitty personalities. So was Kevin, now that he thought about it.

There was a need in Aaron that Kevin recognized and felt in himself. He’d seen it firsthand. He saw the way Aaron bloomed beneath attention and affection; he saw it every time Wymack praised his play and every time Nicky went out of his way to talk to and care for Aaron specifically. Kevin felt that need resonate in his soul every time Neil patted his shoulder after a good practice and every time Abby said “Kevin, dear”. They’d been starved for too long. They were not broken so thoroughly by their abusers that it destroyed the need for love and affection like Andrew and Neil. They actually loved their abusers. They still need love in some way.

Aaron had found his love with Katelyn only to lose it with anger and callousness that she could not understand or tolerate. Kevin didn’t blame her. Each of the Foxes had something that made it difficult for them to blend in with the untainted masses. He and Aaron just happened to have similar setbacks. Being abused by someone you loved and depended on is not something that is easily overcame. They both had felt the crushing need for someone, anyone to say those three stupid fucking words. They both hated them and needed them.

Maybe that was Kevin’s issue. They were so similar is was impossible not to feel connected.

“Lying to even yourself now.” A quiet voice in his mind mocked him.

That’s exactly what he was doing. He knew it was more than their similarities that kept drawing his eyes to Aaron. He knew it was because Aaron had bloomed with Katelyn and once she was gone he had wilted. Kevin had found himself angry with the other Foxes in those months after their break up. How could no one see how quiet Aaron had become? Kevin rationally knew that he only noticed because he had only be able to enjoy Aaron’s quick wit and dry humor for a short time before he withdrew back to his old self. Kevin mourned the loss and no one else noticed or cared. These past few weeks Kevin kept finding himself gravitating to Aaron when he could see the blonde’s mind wander.

One day at practice Aaron seemed even more withdrawn and shut down so Kevin nudged Nicky and nodded his head to Aaron’s slumped form on the couch. Nicky’s entire body drooped as he took in the sight of his cousin staring at nothing, seemingly dead to the world.

“We passed the Vixens on the way over.” Nicky supplied, his voice full of pity.

Kevin found himself going easy on Aaron for the rest of the day, which had shocked him to his core. When Aaron’s shoulders slumped and his racquet drooped in his hands Kevin called for a break. As the rest of the team made their way to the restrooms and water fountains Aaron didn’t even lift his head to look up from the ground. Kevin ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair before making his way over to the shorter man.

“Neil is being even more of a dick today.” Kevin probed hesitantly.

Talking shit about Neil was always a good way to cheer Aaron up, and one that Kevin enjoyed doing anyways. Today Aaron didn’t give him a devious smirk or call Neil a “fucking twat”, he didn’t say a word. Kevin was growing increasingly worried as he watched Aaron’s hazel eyes slowly lift from the floor to meet his own. When Aaron had finally made eye contact with Kevin he just nodded.

“If you manage to trip him I’ll buy you whatever alcohol you want.” Kevin offered with a small smile.

Aaron’s mouth twitch up minutely before he nodded once again. That was good enough for Kevin, so he turned and started to walk away.

“It’s a deal. You’re doing fine by the way, keep it up.” Kevin threw over his shoulder as he made his way to the water fountain.

He almost missed the surprised blink and slight flush that signaled Aaron had heard and appreciated what Kevin had said.

That was the first time Kevin realized his attraction to Aaron might not be purely physical. He definitely wasn’t ready to think about how much he was attracted to Aaron or for what reasons.

“I can’t wait till we go to Eden’s” Kevin found himself grumbling as he slammed close the biography he’d been blankly staring at for the past hour.

Tell me pretty lies,

Look me in the face,

Tell me that you love me,

Even if it's fake,

'Cause I don't fucking care, at all

Aaron knew Kevin was being nice to him. Aaron wasn’t a fucking baby. He didn’t need Kevin to take care of him. He didn’t need those goddamn green eyes looking at him with that much care in them. He certainly didn’t need Kevin’s fake ass praise. He had played like shit Monday and Kevin giving him that pretty little lie was just pity. It had to be pity. Aaron wasn’t about to let himself think it was anything deeper. Who cares if he couldn’t stop watching Kevin? Not Aaron, that’s for sure. Katelyn had left him because he was an asshole. He knew he had been an asshole to her too many times. He just couldn’t stop the anger that ignited his blood. It coursed through him all the time, the only time it left was when it was replaced with fear. Anger and fear were Aaron’s only true companions. Katelyn was untainted, there was no way she could understand why she both scared him and left him awestruck. No one could truly understand why he lashed out all the time.

He knew why though, had had years and years to mull over why he was always angry. He knew he lashed out at the people around him because he wanted to lash out at his life. At the shitty hand he’d been dealt, at the mother who made it worse, at the brother who should’ve been his salvation but was his damnation, at the cousin he hadn’t even known before he’d tried to change Aaron. Aaron wanted to scream and hit and burn for the past five years. His mom was supposed to love him and yet he beat and neglected him. The drugs were supposed to take him away but most nights they just left him numb but present. And then Andrew had come into his life with promises of protection and had taken away the only person who’d ever loved him. He had put so much hope into having a brother and Andrew had promptly set it all ablaze. Andrew did not love him, could not love him (at least not in the way he needed). Andrew had in his own warped way saved Aaron, but it’d taken Aaron years to understand that. He still struggles with the idea that Andrew does actually care about Aaron, and had protected him. He struggles with letting go of the love he has for his mother. He struggles with the love he receives from Nicky.

He had questioned Nicky’s loyalty and love for a long time before realizing that Nicky was the kind of person that took every person they knew and placed them securely in his heart. Aaron admired Nicky’s willingness to love. Nicky had been neglected and abused the same as Aaron. It might have been with words instead of fists, but it was just as damaging. Aaron knew deep down why Nicky made sure that his family knew he cherished them, it was the same reason as the Foxes other backliner. Nicky was determined to make sure no one knew the cold isolation of friends or family not caring about them. Aaron knew that was why Nicky had shown up, unwilling to let anyone else deal with his father’s neglect, and yet Aaron had been so unwilling to let anyone else in that he had lashed out at Nicky over and over again. He targeted his sexuality because it was the easiest way to get Nicky to back off, and because Aaron had grown up hearing the slurs and insults so they came easily to his lips. Looking back over those first four years he regrets those vile words leaving his mouth. He was not homophobic, had never really been.

He was an asshole, plain and simple. When he was angry he found himself saying anything at all to hurt someone. It was something he had been trying to work on with Betsy for the past couple months. The only one who hadn’t walked away from his anger was Kevin. Kevin with his gorgeous eyes and vicious words had somehow heard the frustration behind his fire. Kevin had also noticed his need for affection, and Aaron would curse him for that if he hadn’t noticed Kevin’s need for it as well.

Aaron knows that he is not bisexual, and certainly not attracted to Kevin. Aaron also knows that Kevin is model worthy. More importantly, Aaron knows that Kevin is a fucking dick. Luckily for Kevin relationships were forbidden at The Nest because he’s probably never realized he’s undateable, not that Aaron has any room to stand on since he too is apparently not dateable.  They’re both too callous, too easy to lash out, too easy to anger.

Aaron had never really payed attention to how similar he and Kevin actually were, and now that he has he can’t stop seeing it. He can’t stop thinking about Monday. He can’t stop thinking about those fucking green eyes and Kevin’s hand running those his dark hair when he’s anxious or stressed. He can’t stop thinking about how Kevin always licks his lips before saying something he’s clearly rehearsed in his mind.

Aaron is startled out of his thoughts as the bedroom door opens and Andrew says, “Let’s go.”

Eden’s is packed and Aaron is grateful. He’s going to get as drunk as safely possible and make out with at least one person tonight. He’s been mourning Katelyn for over a month already and he’s tired of being alone and sad.

Aaron, Kevin, and Nicky waited at a chair-less table for Andrew and Neil to return with drinks.

“We should probably try to find two chairs for Andrew and Neil.” Nicky chirped from the other side of Kevin’s broad chest.

Aaron scoffed at the same time Kevin said, “Why would we do that?”

Nicky was still giving them a disappointed look when Andrew and Neil came back with a tray of drinks. Aaron downed his third of the tray quickly and made his way to the bar for more.

“Damn dude don’t hurt yourself.” Roland chastised him as he poured four more shots for Aaron.

Aaron lifted his middle finger and held Roland's eyes as he knocked back each glass, only putting his finger down when he’d finished all of them. Roland gave him the look he seemed to only use on Aaron and his family before turning to serve someone else. Aaron made his way back to the table and was surprised to see Nicky still at the table with his brother and Neil.

“Jesus Aaron how many did you just do? I am so not carrying you and Kevin back into the house tonight!” Nicky whined.

Aaron didn’t care about Nicky’s discomfort. Aaron’s head was starting to swim as his body was starting to heat up. He thought he heard Neil say something about taking care of Aaron. He snorted at that. Neil was so fucking annoying. Kevin would’ve laughed at the thought of Neil “I’m Fine” Josten taking care of anyone, especially Aaron out of all people.

“Where’s Kevin?” Aaron heard his words slur as they left his numb lips.

“Fuck. He’s trashed and we just got here.” Nicky said, whining again.

Aaron hummed before saying, “Shut the up Nicky. Did you lose ‘im?”

Nicky was laughing for some reason and Andrew’s stupid judgmental eyebrow was raised.

“You forgot a word there, friend.” Neil mocked him.

“I am so not your f-friend, you fucking ginger. Someone tell me where my real friend Kevin went.” Aaron demanded, stomping his foot.

Andrew pointed to the dance floor and that was all Aaron needed. Maybe he and Kevin could be each other’s wingman. Aaron made his way to the dance floor content to just dance and if he saw Kevin then he’d ask him to be his wingman and help him get a girl.

He’d been grinding with a brunette with Kevin green eyes when he finally spotted his friend. He pushed the girl away and made his way to Kevin, who was dancing with some short blonde girl. When Aaron tapped his shoulder Kevin jumped.

“Hey, you wan’ dance?” Kevin asked, his head tilted to the side like a cute puppy.

Aaron immediately found himself nodding. Weird. Aaron had something to ask Kevin. Needed his help with something. He forgot everything the second those eyes were on him. He felt himself wetting his lips as he watched Kevin drag a hand through his hair. Aaron let out a small groan as he watched. He was hoping the music was too loud for Kevin to notice, but it evidently was not since Kevin’s eyes dilated and his mouth popped open.

Suddenly Aaron was spun around and Kevin’s hand were firmly attached to his hips. Kevin was swaying to some song by The Weeknd and using his hands to sway Aaron’s stunned hips with him. Aaron’s response was slowed by the alcohol in his system but soon he found himself not just swaying in front of Kevin but actively grinding his ass into him. Aaron was tired of analyzing his feeling for Kevin and he just wanted someone to fucking touch him, so he pushed away his fears and gave himself to the music and Kevin’s strong body. His head flopped back to rest on Kevin’s broad chest as his hips pressed back into Kevin’s. It was like his whole body sighed in that moment that they were finally connected. Kevin hummed, the sound vibrating Aaron’s entire body, and pulled him even closer.

When the song ended Aaron fought the part of him that felt right in Kevin’s embrace and stepped away. Turning around to make eye contact was a huge mistake for his confidence in his sexuality. Kevin looked like a goddamn masterpiece as he panted and searched Aaron’s face for any sign of rejection. Aaron found himself slipping his fingers into the hair at the base of Kevin’s neck and bringing his face down to kiss him.

This didn’t make sense, and Aaron was confused but he honestly didn’t give a single shit as he felt Kevin relax into him.

You've been out all night,

I don't know where you've been,

You're slurring all your words,

Not making any sense,

But I don't fucking care, at all

Kevin found himself starring at Aaron more and more since Friday. He couldn’t stop replaying their dance and kiss. He was nervous about Aaron’s reaction once he was sober so he has been avoiding him since they got back to Palmetto. It’s been one of the hardest things Kevin has had to do in a long time. He cares about Aaron and his feelings so if Friday night was just Aaron being drunk Kevin will accept it and try to move past his crush. Until he knows for sure Kevin has decided to just act like normal. Aaron has a lot more to figure out than Kevin does, so Kevin doesn’t mind not knowing for however long Aaron needs.

'Cause I have hella feelings for you,

I act like I don't fucking care,

Like they ain't even there,

Aaron hadn’t realized kissing someone could feel that good. The kiss turned him on. But Kevin’s kiss also made him feel warm inside, which was the part Aaron finds himself struggling with. He’s never been attracted to another man before. Being gay used to be something he was terrified of. Now that he had been in Palmetto with his family for so long he doesn’t feel that terror. He isn’t afraid of his feelings. He just doesn’t understand why Kevin Day of all people makes his heart race. Aaron has never had a love he can enjoy. He always had to walk on eggshells around Katelyn when he was angry, always careful not to say or do the wrong thing or she’d leave him. He was stupid. She did leave him, and here he is still standing. He might always fear someone he cares about leaving him or not loving him, but now he knows he’ll still be standing after they’re gone. So if he isn’t scared of his feelings, why was his stomach in knots? Aaron cursed himself quietly as he realized he’s terrified of losing Kevin. He knows now he can handle a break up but with Kevin it wouldn’t just be a break up. It’d probably destroy him. He doesn’t know when he came to think of Kevin as more important than anyone else but now that he’s here he doesn’t know if he could handle the heartache.

'Cause I have hella feelings for you,

I act like I don't fucking care,

'Cause I'm so fucking scared

Kevin sent Aaron a text telling him to meet him in the room in half an hour. Kevin was incredibly nervous. He had been shoving down his feelings for two weeks and after making out Friday for the second time he needed an answer. Aaron probably didn’t want all of Kevin’s emotional baggage. That’d explain why he had to have alcohol before he could kiss him in case he needed an excuse. Kevin was just too broken for someone as solid as Aaron.

I'm only a fool for you,

And maybe you're too good for me,

Aaron’s phone lit up as he received a text from Kevin telling him to meet him in the dorm in thirty minutes. Aaron’s heart started racing at the thought of being alone with Kevin. Was he ready to tell Kevin that he was too harsh, too angry for someone who had endured as much as Kevin had? He was surprised to feel a part of himself already mourning the loss. That part of him knew that if he’d let himself have Kevin he’d never let go. He wasn’t good enough for someone like Kevin. Never the less Aaron packed his books into his back pack and set off for the dorm room.

I'm only a fool for you,

But I don't fucking care, at all, oh

Kevin jumped as he heard the door open. He knew Andrew, Neil, and Nicky would be out for the next hour or so at least, so he steeled his spine and turned from the kitchen sink and looked at Aaron, who was frozen in the living room. Kevin didn’t know why Aaron wasn’t making eye contact, it seemed to be a bad sign. Kevin had prepared a speech and he was going to deliver it, damn it. He stepped into the living room, only a few paces from Aaron’s tense form.

“Aaron. I know you aren’t bi, but I need to let you know how I’m feeling. I like you. I could give you a list of all the reasons why, but I’d rather tell you those slowly over years of being together instead of dumping them at your feet and begging you to return my feelings. I know I’m shitty and have too much emotional baggage, but it comes down to this: I like you. I feel like we understand each other better than anyone else and when you kissed me last Friday I was the happiest I’ve been in a long time. I want to feel that all the time. I want you to feel that all the time. I want to show you how amazing I think you are.” Kevin had tried to keep it short and simple but the words bubbled out of him anyways.

Kevin was immediately overwhelmed with embarrassment. Aaron obviously didn’t want to be with Kevin. He was straight. A voice in his head started chanting, “You fucked up” over and over again. Kevin mumbled an apology and started to head to his bedroom. He stepped wide around Aaron’s still frozen body and was almost to the door when he heard a loud bang and turned around to see Aaron rushing to him, his back pack on the ground.

“What are you-“ Kevin was cut off by Aaron pushing him against the wall and yanking his head down to meet Aaron’s waiting mouth.

[idreamofasriel-blog]

Metal Slug Past Life Ch 18

“Let's all agree to never fight dragons again.” Tarma slumped in his chair and all his friends agreed with him. “Gees, Tarma. You looked like you were having fun fighting those monsters.” Rasha teased and grinning with her pipe clenched between her teeth. Kevin found a spare chair and a pillow to prop her broken leg up on while he went to get food for The Squad. The Hawk Unit's Head Quarters is none other than a once beautiful five-star hotel for rich snobs or anyone with a fat bank account to stay there. The Mess Hall use to be a fancy restaurant with a piano playing, nice and organized tables with clean table cloths and polished silverware and plush chairs around the fireplace where snobs will drink and talk about snob stuff till the war broke out and got turned into a simple place to eat and drink. The air is filled with high spirit, smoke, and talking among soldiers and higher ups. They even replaced the plush chairs with a pool table that Trevor and Walter got invited to play pool with the other Hawk Unit Soldiers. Walter reveals to all of them that he is one tough pool shark to beat. Kevin came back with two trays of food and drinks in both hands and set them down on a neighboring table and served out the food and drinks and as promised, Tarma got the frostiest drink on the house. “For the wee sparrows and their falcon friend.” Kevin grinned and served up the girls their food and drink and giving Nadia a bigger slice of the cake for dessert. “And for our Falcons!” The men eyes widen when Kevin gave them a huge portion of food, big enough to feed Kevin alone and Kevin sat down and set a plate down for Rasha and himself. “Eat and grow strong.” he said before he tore into his thick juicy steak. Rasha adjusted herself to sit up and eat her meal with the rest, “So what's the update on the boy? Is he going to be okay after that ambush he went through?” Rasha asked them, cutting into her meat and eating it. Marco put down his glass of beer before he even got a sip out of it. “Trevor said that he got nasty scratches on his chest and showing signs that he's been drugged. Whatever they did to him, Kartu must have given them one Hell of a fight before they beat up and drugged him.” said Marco, now getting a chance to sip his beer. “If you're beating yourself up over it, then don't, Marco. Neither of us saw it coming for Kartu and you did a great job warning us and coming to our rescue when those Rebel rats ambushed us out of the blue.” said Rasha, taking a bite out of her dinner roll. To her, that dinner roll is going to need a lot of butter to make it taste good. Marco sighed, “I know, Rasha but I feel like I should have left one of us behind to keep him safe and he would be sitting here with us with this said stranger you mentioned in on conversation.” Rasha sat in silence while letting the ice in her gently clink against the glass before sipping on the ice cold water and put it down. “Finish your meal first then we'll go see Kartu and the stranger.” Rain pattered against the glass panes in a small but yet cozy Hotel room. Kartu been asleep ever since Celestial drugged him and The Doctors worked tirelessly to get Kartu bandaged up and stopped the bleeding from getting worst. The Only thing Kartu had walked away with is another scare on his body. This is not the family reunion that Oguma was expecting. He never blamed Marco for letting this happen and he had trust in Marco and The Squad to give Kartu protection and care under their watchful eyes. Kartu is back and he can now rest knowing that his grandson has returned to him for all those years of believing that he is dead and his murderer never being found. Oguma got up from his chair and gently stroke his grandson's hair, his hair is graying faster than they thought and soon he'll have a full head of white hair like his grandfather. He reached into his pocket and took out Kartu's stuff dog, Mr. Woof Woof and set it on the nightstand to keep Kartu company. Kartu groaned from the pain he felt from his injury and open his eyes. He's stared at the ceiling to regain his eyesight and his mind in a haze from the drug. He felt bed sheets covering his body and looked to the left and he is greeted by a familiar plush face. “Mr. Woof Woof?” he said in a groggy voice and reached out two fingers to pull the plush dog onto his bed by his ear for a better look. He didn't recall having Mr. Woof Woof with him. As he recalled, they only found two cuffs on his wrists. “I remember the old days when you use to take that stuffed dog everywhere you go. Your mother took great care to make him just for you.” That voice. He turns his attention directly to the source and gasped. “Grandpa?” The elevator dinged and The Squad got off it, followed by Kevin having to duck a bit to avoid hitting his head on the way out. After he let his wife go through first than himself. He gently picked her up and carried her bridal style to help her keep up with the pace of The Squad. Fio thought it was so sweet to see Kevin giving Rasha extra love and care for her and willing to look after her even long after her leg healed up and ready to walk on her own again. He gently set her down and she thanked him and knocked on the door. There was no reply and Rasha opened the door anyways. As the door swung opened, they were greeted by the sight of Kartu and Oguma in an embracing hug and let go of each other. The Squad gasped when they who The Hawk Unit's mysterious stranger was all along. “Oguma!?” they all said in unison “We shouldn't be surprised since we knew you're Kartu's grandfather all along anyways.” Marco scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “You all know each other then? Wow, thanks for saving me the introduction, guys.” Rasha laughed and Kevin laughed along with her. “Oguma showed up out of the blue recently, asking about how he can get to your Squad's Head Quarters. So I kept him here for awhile until I knew if this guy is legit or not,” said Rasha, rubbing her injured leg, “I guess I can take him off the suspicious list then.” “I did come all the way to this said half way point of mine to fulfill a quest I had since I was told that Kartu was found alive.” said Oguma, smiling at his grandson and hugging him again. “You want to bring him home with you. That's why you're here.” said Tarma, having the same thoughts like everyone else in the room. Oguma nodded, “I never thought that my grandson will come back to me and it was painful for me to presume him dead and his murderer never being caught.” said Oguma, staring at all of them. “Wait, how did he 'died' in the first place?” Eri asked with a puzzling look on her face. Oguma sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. “He was killed while protecting me from my would-be assassin. A man in a goat mask. But that's all I recall before there was a big flash and they both disappeared on me. We looked everywhere for the both of them but neither of them could be found.” There was that distance look in Oguma's eyes they can see but it quickly fades away into joy. “But no matter, though. I got my grandson back and I'm ready to take him home first thing in the morning.” “This is one happy story I'm happy to witness.” Kevin smiled brightly and Rasha smiled a bit. “I agree with you, Meathead.” said Rasha. Kartu yawn and laid back down on his bed. “I'm feeling rather tired and I would like to get some rest right now.” said Kartu, looking up at the ceiling again. Fio stretches her arms out too. “ Kind of think of it. I'm ready to go to sleep myself. I can't believe it's dark out already.” Fio was right, the sun has long set and the rain is still pouring outside. “I agree, Fio. I'm ready to fall sleep myself. Tarma, who was leaning against the wall was already asleep. The girls and the boys got their own separate rooms to share. The girls were giggling and talking to each other. Tyra was doing some exercises while Nadia was snacking on some sweets in her bed. Fio was brushing out Eri's hair for her and was careful to undo some knots she found to prevent hurting her. When she was done, Eri offered to brush Fio's hair before they go to bed. There was a knock on the door and Fio told them to come in. The door opened ajar and Kevin poked his head in, “Are the wee Sparrows and Falcon comfy in their nests for the night?” He softly spoke to them. Fio smiled and nodded her head. “We are, Kevin. Thank you for checking up on us.” Kevin smiled sweetly at them. “Okay, little Sparrow. I'm just checking before I got back to my Irish Rose.” He quietly closed the door and left. The girls got into their own beds and Eri reached over and turn the light off. The room is in instant darkness and they drifted off to sleep pretty quick. Halfway through the night, Fio woke up to a faint light flashing and she sat up and grab her glasses to see what's going on. At first, she thought it was lighting but it wasn't and she discovered a time rift in their room. She wants to wake the girls up and show them the time rift but they were all fast asleep. Fio looked at it with curiosity and crept out of bed to get a better look. “Okay, they said that to activate it, I have to touch it is all.” She said in a whisper. Who knows what it'll take her and her curiosity got the best of her. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and touch it.

[arentwelost]

what if i did // riko moriyama x kevin day // words by me // hanahaki disease au

He comes out of the hospital void of blue forget-me-nots stuck in his throat, void of all kinds of feelings for Kevin Day. But he returns, every single damn time, with his heart overflowing with jealousy and anger, so much hate, and so much love for a boy he can't have.

Based on: "The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The flowers can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals. It can be cured without side effects only when the feelings are returned."

  When the media talks about them, it’s always Riko and Kevin, never separate entities. One is never mentioned without the other. They’re always together, inseparable, unbreakable. Some part of Riko, the selfish part, the part that wants to devour more than he can take, wishes that were true.

  Riko lies in bed, surrounded by petals. A reminder of his own weakness, perhaps. He fights the desire to laugh.

  His chest is still marred by scars, one after another, overlapping each other. He doesn’t remember how many trips he’s made to the hospital, Tetsuji forcing him to get rid of those flower petals that were not yet on the verge of suffocating him.

  He then comes out of the hospital void of blue forget-me-nots in his throat, and void of all kinds of feelings for Kevin Day. But he returns, every time, with his heart overflowing with jealousy and anger, so much hate, and so much love. His feelings are like a hand grabbing him by his throat, refusing to let go whenever his thoughts wander to Kevin.

  He closes his eyes and supposes this is the most effective revenge anyone has come up with.

    -

    Privacy is not a thing in the Nest. Secrets aren’t exactly secrets, and if something dares to come out of your mouth, everyone will know by the end of the day.

  The Ravens like to pretend their soul are black holes, a void with no entrances and exits. They like to crush and choke on their feelings and force them down their throats than to voice them, and that usually results in a trip to the hospital with a surgery lined up. It isn’t unusual for someone to start having coughing fits in the middle of practice, or in the change room.

  So no one gives a second glance at the crushed petals littered across the floor of Riko’s room.

    -

    Riko doesn’t remember a time when hospitals aren’t a part of the routine. He doesn’t remember what it feels like not to yearn for another soul, another body pressed against his. Doesn’t remember what it feels like to smell something without smelling full bloom. He doesn’t remember how to feel content, and comfortable in his own skin.

  He feels empty even though there are flowers growing inside his lungs.

  And sometimes he wakes up to white ceilings, white walls, white sheets, white bandages across his chest. Sometimes he wakes up to his body aching with fractured pieces of dreams and fantasies about black hair, black uniforms, black tattoos, black eyes.

  Blue flowers.

  Bathroom tiles. Overflowing sinks.

  Constants, constants, constants.

    -

    Riko has lost count somewhere between the ninth and tenth visit to the hospital. Tetsuji has resorted to physical violence whenever he finds Riko suppressing his coughs, almost as if it would beat it out of him. Riko would spit the blood from his mouth and he wouldn’t think about how he was flushing little blue flowers down the toilet an hour ago. He would look proud and undefeatable, back straight and head high, accepting whatever Tetsuji has for him without as much as a wince.

  Tetsuji leaves him battered and bruised and aching for an end, red and purple matted with healing yellow.

  Jean only comes to his room when he’s carrying a first aid kit these days. He would apply antiseptic on Riko’s back with a mask of indifference on his face and stitch up some of the worse looking cuts that are definitely going to scar. They don’t talk about it, whatever it is, and when Jean finishes up, he slams the box closed, walking out of Riko’s room as soon as it’s done.

  Riko coughs, immediately covering his mouth with his hand, and regrets it because the action pulls on his stitches. When he pulls his hand away, crushed flowers are sitting on his palm, and Riko wishes it were blood instead.

    -

    Riko is drowning.

  He’s always drowning.

  His lungs don’t work as well as it did before, which is almost a given with all the half healed wounds on his chest from being emptied out so many times. Drills and practices that he could have completed with ease now leave him breathless and desperate for air, for a solution that isn’t surgery, surgery, surgery again.

  On some days when Tetsuji felt like it, he would make him run extra laps around the court, and Riko would bite down as hard as he clenches his hands, digging his nails into his palm. He would then run until his lungs and throat burnt, until his legs and arms felt numb, then join the rest of the Ravens with their drills.

  Riko is drowning, and Kevin Day is the goddamn sea that’s pulling him in.

    -

    Riko hugs Kevin in front of the cameras and he resists the urge to cough when Kevin awkwardly pats him on the back. For a brief, fleeting moment, he wishes this wasn’t for publicity, and he pretends it doesn’t hurt when Kevin freezes when Riko snakes his arm around Kevin’s waist. He remembers a time when his touch didn’t cause fear. He doesn’t remember a time when someone touched him like he wasn’t a monster.

  He lets go because Kevin wasn’t his no matter how much he wants him, no matter how much he tries to convince himself, and smiles the smile he’s been taught since he was old enough to be out in front of the camera.

  He is Riko Moriyama, the Raven King. He is Riko Moriyama, and he has the weight of his surname rested upon his shoulders, a blade pressed against his throat.

  He isn’t Riko, who has forget-me-nots stuck in his throat because he’s head over heels in love with someone he can’t have.

    -

    Kevin tells Wymack and Abby that he’s going to the bathroom before Andrew forcibly drags him back onto their bus, and he seems surprised when he finds Riko staring at his own reflection in the bathroom. Riko watches Kevin square his shoulders in a moment of courage instead of turning away to find another bathroom and leaving him alone.

  Seeing Kevin Day again is scratching the newly formed scab after a particularly bad fall and then panicking when it starts to bleed again. And it’s not even metaphorical because Riko has ripped his chest apart every single time his feelings for Kevin start to suffocate him, and the wound never heals properly before he has to cut it open again.

  Kevin takes a step closer to Riko, and stills. He opens his mouth and closes it again, like he has something to say but doesn’t know how to phrase it.

  Riko’s gaze on his reflection doesn’t waver. He clenches his jaw. “Spit it out, Kevin.”

  “…How long?” Kevin asks, voice coming out higher than what he expected, and clears his throat.

  Riko raises an eyebrow at that. “What do you mean, how long?”

  Kevin sighs, closing the distance between them. Riko’s knuckles are white from how hard he’s gripping onto the sink and his lips are quivering when Kevin picks up a loose blue petal from the ground, holding it out to him.

  And Riko laughs, the sound surprising both of them. The laughter prompts another round of coughing, and more petals slip between his fingers. The sink is tainted with small drops of blood and blue flowers by the end of it, and Riko turns on the tap to wash away worse of it.

  “How long have I been coughing up forget-me-nots? Or how long do I have left before I suffocate and die?” Riko asks, his voice so weak that the words are barely making it out of his lips. “Not long, I’m sure. Don’t worry.”

  “That’s not what–”

  “That’s exactly what you meant,” Riko whispers harshly, picking up one of the petals, wet and stuck on the basin. “Forget-me-nots, Kevin. You remember that conversation, right?”

  Kevin remembers which conversation Riko is referring to, even though he doesn’t want to.

  It was night, and one of the Ravens were escorted out of the Nest after leaving carnations all over the pristine tiles of the shared bathroom. They were sitting on the same bed, doing their homework or whatever it was back then, when Kevin asked, seemingly out of nowhere considering they had been working in silence for a very long time, what kind of flower would you be?

  Riko frowned, never thought about this until now, and answered with the first flower that came into mind. Kevin nodded, going back to his work. It wasn’t until later when Riko had almost forgotten about this conversation, when Kevin said forget-me-nots, like he had taken all this time to come up with something fitting.

  “Riko, I…” Kevin starts, but trails off because he doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t want to know what this implies.

  Riko laughs again. “No, Kevin.” The I hurt you is swallowed down, and he turns to look at Kevin instead of the reflection of them in the mirror.

  He’s still tall as ever, eyebrows furrowed as he watches Riko. The heaviness in his chest turns into full blown pain, and he makes sure his smile doesn’t waver as Kevin continues to look at him wearily.

  “I’ll just get it removed,” he shrugs like this doesn’t matter, like this is no big deal, when he knows he can’t keep on making trips to the hospital. Kevin stands, unmoving when Riko starts to make his way out of the bathroom, walking past him. He stops just as before he opens the door.

  “You’ll never let me love you, anyway,” he hears himself say, and he doesn’t have it in him to allow himself to figure out whether Kevin heard him.

    -

    Perhaps in another time and life, where Riko isn’t so damaged – isn’t forced to become a monster filled with thorns and claws so he could defend himself – he would be happy. He wouldn’t have a weight suffocating him, wouldn’t have bruises on his legs or along his sides. Wouldn’t have flowers growing inside him, reminding him that he deserves this after what he did to Kevin.

  Riko lies in bed, surrounded by petals. He’s dying, his bed a coffin and this is his funeral and oh god he needs to write it down somewhere - like a suicide note or something - that he doesn’t want any forget-me-nots anywhere near his grave.

  He fights the desire to laugh.

  He manages a weak one anyway, which proves to be a mistake because he ends up coughing up even more flowers.

  Tetsuji is out somewhere for a meeting today, and Riko knows he won’t be back anytime soon. Although some part of him is yelling at him for being so stupid, letting himself go like this, another part is relieved, reason still unknown to him because the truth is a puzzle he’s too tired to figure out anymore.

  Riko is drowning. He has always been drowning, and has always been stubborn enough to keep swimming up to breath into fresh air again. But today he’s not going to fight it. Today, he’s going to close his eyes and let the currents drag him further away from the shore.

  He’s going to let the sea take him.

    -

      And when the media talks about them, it’s a one line description in a magazine featuring an exclusive interview with Kevin Day that doesn’t even detail a fraction of who Riko used to be. The first exy player to die of Hanahaki Disease, Riko Moriyama was the former captain of Edgar Allen’s Ravens and Day’s childhood friend.