#site: island daze

[kamilah-is-queen]

Could i request a kamilah mc and aiko fic..i love a jealous aiko of mc and definitely jealous kamilah. Where aiko crashes the wedding when they ask do any one objects, she does. Turns out kamilah had a drunken fling night before the wedding. They break up, years pass, although kamilah is the one who breaks mc ❤ she is the only one who can mends it. Mc dates someone who she brings to functions where jealous kamilah shows up. One of these events kamilah corners mc in the bathroom, mc breaks down showing her how much she hurt her. Kamilah explains why she did it. They make up and make out. They elope the next day, mc has a home gathering with there friends and surprise them kamilah comes out and they announce their marriage. Angst smut Fluff ending all in one

I just want to say what a fantastic idea this was. Thank you for submitting this Anon and allowing me the chance to express this in a unique creative writing style. I very much enjoyed working on it. Also, I’m terribly sorry for this ask being answered after two years. 😅

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Amy Parker) briefly Kamilah x Aiko

Warnings: Fluff, smut, and angst as requested

Tagging: @ta-sayeed, @kamilahtopme, @nydeiri, @genietotherescue, @rhonda-sayeed, @helpconfusedpersonhere, @millasayeed, @vonda-be-real, @livvynka, @queenkamilah, @leenasayeed, @skylarkxxyy, @choicesgrp, @ilove-kamilah-sayeed, @justavampirefan, @iamsimpforpoppy, @friendlybuddy

“Habibti, what do you fancy for dinner?”

Kamilah’s smooth voice cooed into Amy’s ear, her warms arms wrapping around the woman in a gentle embrace from behind.

“I would say you, but I think I’ll go with spaghetti and meatballs tonight.” She replied, breaking out in a grin.

Kamilah pressed soft kisses to her neck as she chuckled, heartily, into Amy’s skin. “You really are cheeky, aren’t you.”

With a sarcastically long wink, Amy cockily spoke back.

“And you love it.”

“And you love being punished for it.” Kamilah answered, smirking to herself as the younger woman broke out in a heated blush.

“Yeah yeah, go before we can’t stop.” She giggled, blushing harder at the idea of another passionate round of the day.

Not long after the aroma of sweet, fresh tomatoes and the herby richness of basil filtered through the penthouse. Kamilah didn’t waste any opportunity to use the herbs from her garden into her delicious home cooked meals, much to Amy’s delight.

She couldn’t help but stare lovingly at her wife, her cheek upon her palm as she watched in a daze.

Kamilah frowned in concentration as she chopped garlic for the sauce, prompting a subtle smile to arise on Amy’s face.

Afterwards, she created a small mound of flour on the kitchen island, ready to make the noodles from scratch.

She began cracking the eggs into the plateau, whisking and adding small bits of flour as she went along. Soon enough she was kneading the dough, sprinkling flour on it too, to keep from sticking.

Not long after the couple were snuggled on the sofa, blankets pulled up around their legs as they cozied in with Kamilah’s delicious spaghetti and meatballs just to top it all off.

Amy couldn’t wait any longer to delve face first into the bowl, a nerdy grin breaking out on her lips as Kamilah bellowed softly at the adorable, picture-worthy site.

“Only one week until our wedding, you know.” Kamilah’s eyes remained fixed on Amy, a mix of love and awe deep within her chestnut eyes.

Amy let out a soft sigh, “I know… time just flies by.” She set down her dinner on the coffee table and turned her attention to her fiancée “it won’t be long till we’re making babies.”

“Oh? I wasn’t aware you wanted offspring.” Kamilah hid her grin against the mouthful of noodles, her renowned charm making it’s glamorous appearance.

“You must be a crazy fool if you think that I don’t dream of having little Kamilah’s running around our home.” Amy gently brushed her thumb against her lover’s cheek, time seemingly slowing down as her heart began to quicken. “As if… I don’t want to wake up to these promising brown eyes of yours, and a bunch more of them too.”

Her voice picked up an octave as they both radiated love, intimacy, and hope for a promising future. “Kamilah, you’re the light of my life. You’re the one thing that’s keeping me grounded, sane, and the only one pushing me to be the greatest Amy Sayeed that I could ever achieve. If you mean that much to me… imagine how dear I’ll hold and cherish our young daughters.”

She let out a comforting smile, tears welling in the blood keeper’s eyes before she reached to wipe them away, “I don’t have to imagine.” The older vampire softly pressed her lips to her lover’s forehead, lingering there as her arms pulled her wife in for a lovely hug, as a way to make Amy feel secure in her own arms. “I already know that you’ll be the greatest mother, and most inspiring figure that a child could ever dream of. They will… and myself included, be the luckiest vampire’s in existence to have someone like you in our lives Amy. I would never choose anyone but you.”

Amy broke out in a sob and clutched Kamilah tighter, as the elder vampire smiled through teary eyes.

‘Oh you melt. You always make me cry.’ Amy said, laughing softly as Kamilah softly wiped away her tears. ‘For the record, I’d never choose anyone but you either Kami. I love you.’

She reached forward, giving Kamilah a soft kiss before the elder vampire could reply. ‘I love you too, Amy.’

Wedding day…

‘Oh god Adrian, I feel so nervous. I-I feel like being sick. What if, what if she says no!?’ Kamilah anxiously paced outside the doors to the wedding hall, Adrian pausing her by placing his hands firmly on her shoulders.

‘It’s okay to feel nervous, but I assure you Amy won’t say no. She loves you more than anything Kamilah, and everyone can see that.’ He smiled softly, watching as the tension slowly left Kamilah’s body.

‘You’re right. I’m just- I’ve been so many things in my life… I didn’t think being a married woman would be one to add to the list.’ She chuckled, nervously fiddling with the hem of her white sleeveless jumpsuit.

Adrian laughed alongside her, fixing her mini cape and adjusting her golden necklace before bowing slightly, teasingly. ‘Well then, after you, Mrs Sayeed.’

Kamilah rolled her eyes and grinned, making her way to the end of the aisle with Adrian at her side as her best man. She tried reigning in her nerves, desperately trying not to let her emotions show too much to the crowd.

Amy, having a similar outburst, was soon accompanied by Lily who practically began to drag Amy down the aisle herself, before the young vampire eventually fell into stride after meeting Kamilah’s gaze.

Amy couldn’t help the grin that spread across her lips, and Kamilah couldn’t keep her eyes off of her.

She wore a beautiful lacy white dress, form-fitting but not too tight that had a slight plunge in the neckline. She also wore a white lily flower headband that connected to her veil, courtesy of Lily, of course.

Lily gave Amy a wink before handing her off to Kamilah, who was in literal awe. She leant across, gently taking hold of Amy’s hands before whispering, ‘you look so gorgeous, my love’.

Amy blushed, returning the compliment before the priest began to lead them in their vows.

‘Now then, speak now or forever hold your peace. Does anyone object to this union?’ The priest asked, with a voice that echoed off the walls.

‘I do.

Everyone in the hall turned, gasping towards the origin of the voice.

Aiko.

Amy narrowed her eyes, amused, as if it was some joke. ‘Yeah right, Kamilah’s mine, Aiko. Now back off.’

‘That’s not what she said last night.’

Amy gasped along with the crowd, turning towards Kamilah who was pale in the face. She stumbled for words, unable to form cohesive sentences.

‘Oh dear… you didn’t tell Amy about the fun that we had last night, did you, Kamilah?’ Aiko approached the older vampire, grabbing hold of her arm before being shaken off.

‘Amy, let me explain, this isn’t what it looks like-‘

Tears pore out of Amy’s eyes, the sound of Kamilah’s voice drowning out as rage consumed her.

‘Did you fuck her, Kamilah?’

Kamilah winced, bowing her head in shame. ‘Amy I was drunk, it didn’t mean anything.’

‘So yes, you did.’

‘Amy, it’s not like that. I promise.’

Kamilah attempted to reach for Amy’s hands, but Amy snagged them out of her grasp.

‘Save it Kamilah, we’re done.’

With that, Amy stormed out of the hall, throwing her veil and bouquet aside as she sobbed uncontrollably.

Kamilah sighed shakily, her mind racing back to the events of the night before…

Kamilah had planned to spend her last single night at home, in her own peace and quiet. No fancy bachelorette parties for her, no way.

She poured herself a glass of bourbon from the bar before she made her way to her bed, setting the glass aside and getting comfy as she picked up her current novel.

Before she realized, she had consumed more than 8 glasses of straight bourbon, which was far too much alcohol even for vampire.

Kamilah began to sway from side to side as she made her way towards the bedroom again, stopping when she heard the doorbell ring.

‘Aiko? What are you doing here?’ She said, balancing against the door as she tried to focus on the woman in front of her.

Aiko knew exactly how drunk she was, and she planned to make the most of it. How else would she take Kamilah back?

Aiko gently pushed Kamilah back into the penthouse, closing the door behind her as she stepped dangerously close.

‘I thought you wanted to enjoy your last night being single, don’t you?’

Kamilah tripped back onto the sofa, watching closely as Aiko straddled her lap.

‘I waaaas reading!’ Kamilah’s words slurred, as she pushed up her glasses proudly. ‘I looove reading.’

Aiko hummed, putting Kamilah’s glasses aside as she hovered her lips above Kamilah’s.

‘Then you’re gonna love reading the way my body wants you right now.’

Aiko captured Kamilah’s lips in a passionate kiss, tasting bourbon on her tongue immediately. Kamilah groaned, clearly thinking it was Amy at this point.

‘Oh Amy, you tease.’ Kamilah hefted Aiko’s legs around her waist as she stood, backing her against the marble countertop, clearing the mess on the surface before lifting Aiko onto it. Kamilah trailed wet, open mouthed kisses down Aiko’s throat, feeling the heat inside her core grow as she heard the woman’s lewd moans.

Both their eyes flashed red, desperate for more. Within an instant, Kamilah had ripped all of Aiko’s clothes off with one hand, her lips trailing down the woman’s sternum and stomach as she felt all control leave her body.

‘Yes Kamilah, fuck me.’ Aiko’s voice was desperate, before she was met with Kamilah’s warm tongue against her core. She moaned loudly, hips bucking off of the countertop as she tangled a hand in Kamilah’s locks, desperately begging for more.

It wasn’t long before Kamilah made her find her release, Aiko quickly pulling the woman up and kissing her with more passion than before.

‘Now my turn.’

Kamilah lifted Aiko off the countertop and spun them, staring deep into the brown eyes before her as she lowered Aiko to her knees. She clutched the countertop behind her for support, biting her lip as Aiko took her sweet time caressing Kamilah’s thighs with her hands and lips.

Once Aiko began to meet Kamilah where she needed attention the most, the older vampire couldn’t back her moans anymore. Her head fell back, eyes shut as she groaned Amy’s name once more.

She bucked her hips against Aiko’s face as she reached her climax, not waiting long after to tug Aiko into the bedroom to continue the night with her.

Years later…

Kamilah zipped up the back of her shimmering red dress that he chosen after reluctantly agreeing to attend Adrian’s gala dinner.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, her eyes catching the gold snake chain that accentuated her prominent collarbone and neck. Then, her eyes fell to her hips, the dress’s thigh slits ending just under the curve of her hips, revealing enough to skin to be tempting, but nothing too scandalous. She opted for gold Gianvito Rossi heels.

For once, she was proud of herself. She had learning to forgive her past, however cruel and selfish she was and began to live for her future, whatever that may look like.

From the moment she stepped out of her Maserati, there were cameras everywhere. God, how she hated paparazzi. She tossed the keys to the valet driver and briskly strode inside, enamoring every cameramen she strode past.

Once inside, she decided to settle herself with a harmless glass of champagne. The same glass that Amy was reaching for.

Their fingers brushed momentarily, before Amy quickly took her hand back, frowning slightly.

‘Amy, I didn’t know you’d be here.’ Kamilah’s voice softened slightly, offering the glass much to Amy’s dismay.

‘I do work for Adrian.’ Her voice was cold, emotionless. It sent a shiver down Kamilah’s spine to see the woman she loved so much being so distant.

‘Right.’ Kamilah cleared her throat as another woman approached Amy, who brightened at the sight.

‘Lora! Welcome back honey.’ She placed a soft peck to the woman’s lips, leaning in again and again purposely to annoy Kamilah.

Kamilah turned her head away, biting her tongue before she steeled her natural, unreadable face back to Amy.

‘And this is?’

‘Lora, this is Kamilah. My ex. Kamilah, Lora. My girlfriend.’

Kamilah’s heart sunk a touch at the words, but what could she expect. Amy couldn’t grieve forever, she had to move on. Perhaps to someone better, as much as that pained her to think about.

‘It’s nice to meet you, Kamilah.’ Lora offered her hand, Kamilah taking it keenly, crushing the woman’s fingers instantly.

‘Yes. Very nice.’ She spoke through gritted teeth, applying more pressure before Amy broke them apart, Lora clutching her bruised hand instantly.

‘Anyway. Bye Kamilah, Lora and I need to dance!’

Kamilah watched with a burning gaze at the way Lora held Amy’s hips, swayed to her tempo, and the way she kissed her.

She flared her nostrils, looking away as her eyes flashed red, unable to contain the jealousy anymore. As much as she wanted Amy to be happy, she couldn’t possibly bear to see her with someone else.

Unsurprisingly, Kamilah’s eyes were on Amy the entire evening, especially when Amy made her way to the restroom. Kamilah followed, at a distance, locking the bathroom entrance once she got in.

Amy didn’t notice her there until she came out of the stall, jumping as she Kamilah standing practically on top of her.

‘What do you want?’ She pushed past, washing her hands in the sink as Kamilah crossed her arms.

‘I owe you an explanation.’

‘What for?’

‘About what happened the night before our wedding, with Aiko.’

Any tensed at the words, but turned slowly, nodding hesitantly for Kamilah to go on. The elder woman explained everything in its entirety, telling nothing but the truth.

‘So…’ Kamilah sighed, ‘I’m sorry, for breaking your heart, your trust, and the dreams you had of our future together. But I swear it didn’t mean anything. I thought it was you. I wanted it to be you. And, if I may, I want to get a second chance to prove it to you.’

Kamilah eagerly searched Amy’s face for a reaction, raising her eyebrows as tears were streaming down the woman’s cheeks.

‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you Amy. I want to share a home with you, a family with you, I want to do everything as long as you’re with me. Because if you’re not… it’s… my life will remain to be meaningless. I’ve never been the same since that day Amy. It’s not your fault, but it broke me. Seeing the woman of my dreams just leave, I-‘

Her voice choked, but Amy quickly cupped her cheek, and stroked the soft skin with her thumb, urging Kamilah to go on.

‘I’ve never been the same without you Amy. I love you too much, and we both know that’s the truth. I love you so much that I can’t even stand that stupid Lora looking at you. I really do want a future with you, Amy. If you’ll let me.’

Her eyes were hopeful as Amy quietly gathered her thoughts.

‘You know, you hurt me real good Kamilah. And you broke me too. But, I can tell that what you say is the truth, and I trust you. I wouldn’t want a future with anyone but you, either Mrs Sayeed. Believe it or not, I love you. More than anything.’

Kamilah smiled and wrapped her arms around Amy, gently spinning her in celebration.

‘So, how are we going to break this to everyone.’ Kamilah asked, gently kissing Amy’s cheek.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ve got just the plan.’

Amy had gathered all of her friends to her apartment for an “important announcement.” Of course, the suspense killed so everyone arrived on time.

‘I’d like to thank you all for being here today’ Amy stood in the living room, all eyes on her as she spoke, ‘because I’ve got a very special announcement.’

Everyone leaned forward on their seats, eagerly waiting.

‘I’m…’

Kamilah jumped out of the pantry, blowing confetti in the air as Amy did the same, giggling.

‘getting married again!’

Everyone cheered in unison, later taking their turns to congratulate the new couple once again.

Kamilah and Amy had agreed to respectfully kick the guests out early, as they packed eagerly for their upcoming trip.

Amy was packing clothes on the bed, relaxing a touch as she felt Kamilah’s arms wrap around her waist. She then felt Kamilah’s soft lips on the back of her neck, shivers running down her spine as she thought of what this would eventually lead to.

‘That Lora girl does know you’re mine now, right?’ She spun Amy, catching her lips in a heated kiss before she could answer.

Amy couldn’t help but give in, pushing aside the clothes she had just folded and sprawling herself back on the bed, tugging on Kamilah’s collar to keep her close.

‘I don’t know, does she?’ She grinned, biting her lip as Kamilah’s eyes flashed red.

‘She will once I’m done with you.’

[fandomsaligninstories]

It's A Terrible Life

Prompt: This story follows the Supernatural episode "It's A Terrible Life" (04x17) Song Rec: None TW: None  Word Count: 4K Pairing: Dean W. x OC (Max), Friend!Sam W. x OC (Max) A/N: This was one of the first requests I ever got on Wattpad! 

Max's POV:

I sighed as I walked out of the elevator, ready to take off my heels and throw down my bag. Working with kids all day long was exhausting, no matter how much I loved them. I tried to unlock the door to the apartment, only to find it was already open. Guess Dean was home early.

I closed the door gently behind me, dropping my keys on the table beside the door and my bag full of paperwork on the floor. I paused as I heard voices. It was just like him to bring work home, but I couldn't blame him, I did too sometimes.

"Honey, I'm home!" I walked through the short hallway into the apartment, the open floor plan giving me a view of both men. Dean was sitting at his desk, typing away on his computer, while the other man sat at the dining table, also working on a laptop. He was wearing a light yellow shirt, which I recognized from the company Dean works at.

"Hey babe." He gave me a quick kiss on the lips before returning his attention to the laptop.

I noticed the man at the table staring at me, "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, right, sorry. Max, this is Sam Wesson, he works at the company. Sam, this is my wife, Max." I walked over and shook his hand, a tight smile on my lips. When I tried to pull my hand back, he didn't let go. He stared at me, a dark look in his eyes. Dean cleared his throat, snapping Sam out of whatever daze he was in. I backed away quickly, standing beside the island that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment.

"I'm sorry, it's just... You were in my dreams."

"Excuse me!?" I crossed my arms, tightening the knitted jacket I was wearing. A shiver ran down my spine as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. My blood ran cold, "Who the heck are you?"

Dean stood up quickly, stepping over to me and wrapping a protective arm around my waist, "Hey, man, c'mon, what the hell?"

"No, no- She was in the dreams with us, fighting along side us." He scratched the back of his neck, an awkward silence settling over us. I kept my arms crossed as I stared at the man, the feeling of déjà vu washing over me as he stood up.

"No way man, that's not possible. I know Max, she wouldn't be involved in any of that... stuff. She's a kindergarten teacher, for Christs sake. She couldn't hurt a fly, much less- much less a monster."

"No, it's her. I know it. She looks a little different in the dreams- Her hair is always pulled back and is a darker blonde than that, and she has glasses. She never wears dresses, only jeans and a flannel. She's a total badass."

"What is going on here? Who are you? What do you mean monsters?" I questioned timidly, another wave of fear washing over me as he took a step towards us, towering over me. He had to be six inches taller than me. 

"Okay, here, sit down." Dean guided me to the stool at the island, giving me a moment to get comfortable. I kicked off my heels, watching as the men in front of me stood near each other. I felt a pang of familiarness as Sam shoved his hands in his pockets, "Let me explain everything..."

———

Dean sat at his desk as I stared out the window to my left, trying to comprehend everything they had just told me.

"Ghosts?"

"Yeah."

"And you killed one?"

"Well, no, we don't think so."

"And now you're trying to figure out how to kill it?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

I nodded, bringing my attention back to him, "Okay. I mean, I truly believe you're both having a psychotic break, but okay. If it helps you both to move on from this, I'll help you... hunt... the ghost."

We each got to work on our separate computers, Dean being the first to find anything, "Oh, jackpot!"

"What you got?"

"I just found the best site ever. Real, actual ghost hunters. These guys are genius, check it out." I stood to his right as Sam stood to his left, all three of us watching the video play.

"We know why you're watching."

"You've got a problem."

"A ghost problem."

"A ghost related problem."

"A ghost- It's like a ghost adjacent pro- It's like a problem that's-"

"Whatever. You've come to the right place. The only decent place, really, because the Ghostfacers know how to solve it."

"Period."

"Watch and learn."

"The first step in any supernatural fight: Figure out what you're up against." We all shared a look. Despite the fact that the video had animations that were childish, we knew they were our only hope.

Sam grabbed his laptop and started typing away, pulling up a website that full of information about P.T. Standover and the company.

"That's him, that's the ghost."

"P.T. Sandover. Died 1916. Devoted his life to work. No wife, no kids. Used to say he was the company, that his very blood pumped through the building."

"Wow, a workaholic. Sounds like you, honey." I ruffled Dean's hair, trying to make light of the situation. He gave me a not now look.

"Maybe he's still here, you know, watching over the company... even killing for it."

"Plus, this isn't the first time people started killing themselves in the building. 1929."

"Yeah, but lots of guys jumped off high rises that year."

"How many companies had seventeen suicides?"

"Woah, seventeen?" I leaned over Sam and read over the article, which listed the names of people who had killed themselves in the building over the past sixty years.

"Okay, so, P.T. Sandover, protector of the company. His ghost wakes up and becomes active during times of grave economic distress."

"The worst time since the Great Depression-"

"Is now. Yeah, now sucks. My portfolio's in the sewer. I don't even wanna talk about it."

"What? It is? Why haven't you said anything?" I smacked his shoulder in anger.

"Max, sweetheart, not the time."

"Not the- fine. We'll talk about it later."

Sam made a face at us before continuing, "So, Sandover's helping the bottom line."

"By zapping some model employees."

"Yeah, I mean, Ian and Paul. It was like he turned them into different people."

"Perfect worker bees, exactly. So devoted to the company that they would commit hara-kiri if they failed it."

"One more interesting fact, the building wasn't always that high. Used to be fourteen floors. And the room where the ghost attacked, fourteen-forty four? Once upon a time, that was the old man's office."

We turned back to the disregarded video from earlier.

"Once you've got that thing in your sights, you kill it. Using special ghost hunting weapons."

"First, salt. It's like acid to ghosts."

"Burny acid."

"Not LSD."

"No. It's a bad trip for ghosts."

"Next up, iron."

"That's why the wrench worked."

"Pure power in your hand."

"Dissipates ghosts instantly."

"Next little trick. We learnt this from those useless douche bags-"

"That we hate."

"The Winchesters."

"Gun. Shotgun shell. Pack it up with fresh rock salt."

"Very effective."

"Very effective."

"Winchesters still suck ass, though."

"Affirmative. Suckage, major."

I rolled my eyes at their childish behavior, suddenly feeling protective over these Winchester people. Within the hour both boys had a bag of stuff packed. Anything that was made of iron was packed, as well as all the salt we had on hand. Despite his cleanse, I kept everything on hand, in case I wanted some carbs or other unhealthy snacks.

"Where do we even get a gun?" I asked, sitting on the back of the couch.

"A gun store?" Sam glanced at me as he handed both canisters of salt to Dean.

"Isn't there some kind of waiting period?"

"I think so. How in the hell-?"

"I don't know, man. Seems pretty impossible, honestly."

"Right."

"The aforementioned super annoying, Winchester douche nozzles also taught us this one other thing."

"You have to burn the remains."

"Okay, this next part gets a little gross. Sometimes you might have to dig up the body. Sorry."

"It's illegal in some states."

"All states."

"Possibly all states."

"No, absolutely not. Digging up a body? That's where I cross the line. That's some bad ju-ju right there." I threw my hands up, shaking my head.

"Sandover was cremated."

"What? So what do we do now?"

"Now, if the deceased has been cremated- Don't panic!"

"Just gotta look for some other remains."

"A hair in a locket. Maybe fingernails, baby teeth-"

"Milk teeth."

"Genetic material. You know what we're talking about."

"Go find it."

"Fight well, young lions."

"Godspeed."

———

The elevator dinged as it hit the ground floor, "Set your cellphone to walkie talkie in case we get separated."

"How the hell are we gonna find some ancient speck of DNA in a skyscraper?"

"Well, that creepy storeroom used to be Sandover's office, right?"

We each took a corner of the office to search.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I kneeled down as a security guard stood next to Sam. I placed a hand over my chest, heart beating uncomfortably fast.

"Uh- um- nothing, I just-"

"Come with me." He grabbed his arm and led him out of the office.

Dean and I stood from our respective hiding places, sharing a look of concern. Surely Sam can take care of himself, right?

We sped up our search, coming up with nothing. "Hey, you okay?" He walkied Sam.

"Call you back." We shared a look at his abnormally high pitch.

———

"Dean, you there?"

"Yeah, listen, I think I got it. Meet me on twenty-two."

"Okay, yeah. Just take the stairs."

We both sighed at the thought. Despite his cleanse and my constantly being on my feet at work, neither of us were particularly in shape.

We stood waiting for Sam in front of the Sandover memorial wall in the main corridor.

"Whoa... That's a lot of blood."

"Yeah, I know."

"Right... So, in there."

"P.T. Sandover's gloves."

"How much you wanna bet there's a smidge of DNA in there? You know, like a fingernail clipping or a hair? Something."

"So, you ready?"

"I have no idea."

"Me neither."

I watched them as they talked to each other. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought they were brothers. They both leaned down, grabbing a fire poker and canister of salt each. I took the second out stretched poker from Dean, holding it with both hands.

Dean smashed the glass covering, Sam breathing out heavily. He and I watched the white cloud that formed, jumping as an old man appeared behind Dean, who was tossed backwards into a wall. The ghost threw Sam across the lobby and into a wall. Then it turned to me, blue sparks between its fingers. Sam quickly threw salt at it, the ghost vanishing.

"Oh, nice." Dean stood up, holding onto the wall for support.

"Dean!" I hollered, the ghost appearing behind him." Sam tossed his poker to Dean, who caught it effortlessly and swung around, causing the ghost to vanish again.

Sam let out a faint laugh, "Nice catch!"

"Right?!"

They walked over to the bag, Sam picking up another iron rod. The ghost appeared between them, causing them both to swing through it. I watched as the both of them swung around to catch the ghost as it appeared behind them repeatedly. They were both thrown back into the walls, knocking Dean unconscious.

I scrambled over to the memorial wall, grabbing the gloves and the lighter from my pocket. I turned around and watched as the ghost's lighting fingers neared Dean. I flipped open the lighter and held the flame to the gloves. Dean finally came to, trying to back away from the ghost, but was stuck between it and the wall.

The ghost's hand caught on fire slowly, then the entire thing burned up in a matter of milliseconds. I dropped the gloves and rushed over to Dean, helping him to his feet.

"Huh... that was amazing." Sam said, standing at the other end of the hallway.

"Right!? And you- you really are a badass." Dean responded, kissing my forehead gently. I glanced between them, silently agreeing.

We made our way to Dean's office, packing up our tools and leaving the mess for someone else to clean up.

I sat in Dean's chair as Sam sat on the desk. Dean grabbed the small first aid kit from the cabinet, sitting beside him.

"Man, I gotta tell you. I've never had so much fun in my life."

"Hey!"

"Other than when I married you, of course." He corrected himself quickly, sending a wink my way. I rolled my eyes jokingly.

"Me neither."

"Was a hell of a workout too, wasn't it?"

"We should keep doing this."

"I know."

"I mean it. There gotta be other ghosts out there." Dean handed Sam a small gauze pad, keeping one for himself. He handed me another, so I could clean the small cut along my eyebrow. I wasn't even sure how I had gotten it, "We could help a lot of people."

"Right, we could be like the Ghostfacers."

"No, really. I mean, for real."

"What? Like, quit our jobs and hit the road?"

"Exactly!"

"How would we live? You gotta be kidding me. How would we get by, with stolen credit cards? Huh? Eating diner food drenched in saturated fats? Sharing a crap motel every night?"

"That's all just details."

"Details are everything! You don't wanna go fighting ghosts without any health insurance."

Sam dropped his head with a curt nod.

"Dean, don't be an asshole." I stood up and walked around to stand in front of them, "But he is right, Sam. I mean, we have something going here. Steady jobs, lives. I, for one, love my job. I don't want to just leave it."

"Alright, uh... Confession."

"What?"

"Remember those dreams I told you about with the ghosts?"

"Yeah? That's what started all of this."

"I was fighting them... With you. Both of you. We were these, like, hunters and we were friends. More like brothers, really. And sister. I mean, what if that's who we really are? I mean, you saw us back there working together. The ghost was scrambling brains. What if it scrambled ours?"

"That's insane."

"Is it? Think about it for just one second." Dean got up and moved over to the window, running a hand down his face, "What if this is our life, but it's not?"

"The ghost is dead, we're still standing. I'm sorry, but-"

"Look, all I know is, this isn't who we're supposed to be." Sam stood up, his voice raising an octave.

"No. I'm Dean Smith, okay? This is my wife, Max Smith. I'm Director of Sale and Marketing. She's a kindergarten teacher. I went to Stanford. My father's name is Bob, my mother's name is Ellen, and my sister's name is Jo."

"When's the last time you talked to them? To any of them?"

"Okay, you're upset. Upset, confused-"

"Yeah, cause I only moved here because I broke up with my fiancée, Madison. But I called her number and I got a damn animal hospital."

They both inched closer towards each other, shoulders and voices raised. I moved to stand between them, arms raised so they couldn't move any closer.

"Okay, what are you saying? Are you trying to say that my family isn't real, huh? That we've been injected with fake memories? Come on!"

"All I know is, I got this feeling in my gut. And I know. I know that deep down, you gotta be feeling it too. We are supposed to be something else." Dean scoffed, shaking his head, "You're not just some corporate douche bag, this isn't you. I know you."

Dean looked up slowly, eyes dark, "Know me? You don't know me, pal. You should go." They stared at each other, Sam with a sad look and Dean with frustration.

"Guys, c'mon, let's just take a breath-" Sam turned on his heel and walked away, Dean turning back to look out the window, "That was cold, Dean."

———

I made my way to Dean's office the next day, a small brown bag in my hand. I smiled at the security guard and made my way to the elevator bank. He had forgotten his lunch that morning and I knew he'd be grumpy without it. I entered his office slowly, watching as he ran a hand down his face.

"Still mad?"

"At you? Never." I smiled softly, walking around to stand in front of him and lean against his desk.

I turn my head at the knocking on the office door, a tall man staring at us. He was bald and had deep set eyes, a knowing look in them. I furrowed my eyebrows, the feeling of déjà vu back again. Dean's head popped up.

"Got a minute?"

"Sure, of course."

The man closed the office door as I stood up, "How are you feeling, Dean?"

"Uh, great."

"You look a little tired. Been working hard, I gather."

"Yeah."

"Ah, don't be modest, I hear everything. And I'm pleased with what I'm hearing." He unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk. He glanced to me every few moments, "That's why it's important to me that you're happy."

He pulled out a pen and took a sticky note from the holder. I couldn't make out what he was writing, until he slid the piece of paper over to Dean. I was standing behind him with my hands on his shoulders, "How's that for a bonus?"

Our eyes widen at the number scribbled on the paper, "That's very generous."

"Purely selfish. Wanna make sure you're not going anywhere."

"Wow. Are you sure?"

"Positive. You are Sandover material, son. A real go-getter. Carving your own way."

"Thanks, I try."

"I see big things in your future. Maybe even Senior VP, Eastern Great Lakes Division. Don't get me wrong, you'll have to work for it. Seven days a week, lunch at your desk. But in eight to ten short years, that could be you."

Dean sighed and let out a short laugh, "Well, thank you. Thank you, sir." He set his ear piece on the desk, "It's, um... But... I am giving my notice."

Both the man and I looked at Dean incredulously, "This is a joke. You're kidding me, right?"

"No, I've- I recently- Very recently realized that I have some other work I have to do. It's very important to me."

"Other work? Another company?"

"No, I- It's hard to explain. Um... It's just that this- This is- It's just-" He waved his hands towards the office then his chest, "It's not who I'm supposed to be."

I bit my lip and crossed my arms, ready for the man to leave so I could smack some sense into my husband, but then the man laughed.

"What?"

"Dean, Dean, Dean. Finally." He stood up and pressed two fingers to his forehead, then mine. Suddenly the world got a little bit darker.

"The hell? Why am I wearing a tie? My God, am I hungry." He looked over to me, "Why are you wearing a dress with apples on it?"

I looked down and squinted, taking the lower half of the dress between my fingers, "I have no idea. Why are we in an office?"

"Welcome back."

"What. Did I- Did we-" Dean stood up quickly, standing beside me, "Did I just get touched by- You're an angel, aren't you?"

"I'm Zachariah."

"Oh, great. That's all I need is another one of you guys." He harshly pushed the chair under the desk, looking at me before walking the other direction.

"I'm hardly another one, Dean. I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping here into one of these smelly things. But after the unfortunate situation with Uriel... I felt it necessary to pay a visit. Get my ducks in a row."

"Hey, watch it. We are not one of your ducks." I stood tall, trying to regain some dignity that the red and white dress seemed to be taking from me.

"Starting with your attitude."

"Oh, so, what, this was all some sort of a lesson? Is that what you're telling me? Wow." Dean stepped back over to me, putting himself protectively in front of me as Zachariah stepped closer, "Very creative."

"You should see my decoupage."

"Gross. No, thank you." I shook my head at his misunderstanding, "So, what? We're just hallucinating all this? Is that it?"

"Not at all. Real place, real haunting. Just plunked you in the middle without the benefit of your memories." Zachariah turned and walked back to the other side of the desk.

"Just to shake things up? Hm? So you guys can have fun watching us run around like ass clowns in monkey suits?"

"To prove to you that the path you're on is truly in your blood. You're hunters. Not because your dad made you, not because God called you back from hell," He looked over to me, "Not because your parents died, not because your joined the Winchester clan. But because it is what you are. And you love it. You find your way to it in the dark every single time and you're miserable without it. Dean, let's be real here. You're good at this. You'll be successful. You will stop it."

"Stop what? The apocalypse, huh? Lucifer? What? Be specific, man!"

"You'll do everything you're destined to do. All of it."

"Oh, I doubt that, he doesn't believe in destiny." I stood up straighter as he turned towards me.

"That's enough out of you." Before Dean could intercept or I could back away, he had placed two fingers on my forehead. I fell into the blackness without another thought.

———

I shot up from the bed, a layer of sweat causing the sheets to stick to me. I threw off the top sheet and blanket, rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands. I looked over to Sam, who was sitting at the small table in the corner of the room.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's Dean?"

"I have no idea," He looked at me, a distant look in his eyes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Something just feels... off."

"You feel it too?" He nodded. At that moment, Dean walked in, a scowl on his face, "Dean, hey, where've you been?" He ran a hand down his face, heading straight into the bathroom. Sam shrugged, looking back to his laptop.

"I found a case."

"Another? Sam, we just finished one yesterday."

"It's only a few hours away. Seems like a ghost, so it wouldn't take long."

"Okay..." I sat down across from him, turning the laptop towards me to look over the case. Dean came back out and sat on the bed, looking between Sam and I. I smiled gently, eyes never leaving the screen. I didn't have to look over to know he was staring at me.

"Find a case?" He asked.

"Yeah, seems like a ghost. It's a few hours south of here."

I could feel his eyes still on me, so I looked over. I noticed the bright smile on his face, "What's got you so happy?"

He shook his head, "No reason."

Despite the circumstances, there was an air of comfort surrounding us. It wasn't often Dean allowed himself to be happy, so it was a nice change. With the threat of Lucifer, the apocalypse, and angels hanging over us, it was hard to find moments of peace, so I'd take what I could get, even if it was just a smile from Dean.

[abductionradiation]

Chicago, IL -- This week, Slow Pulp announced their new album Yard will be out September 29 via ANTI-. In addition to the album announcement, the band shared their newest single "Slugs," a hazy indie rock song spanning just about 3 minutes long. From the lush reverbs of the guitar to dreamy vocals, "Slugs" will have you in a summery daze. There's a comfort to the track that makes it so easy to listen to, embraced in a warmth that'll have you feeling steady and safe.

On the track, vocalist Emily Massey shares: “‘Slugs,’ put simply, is about falling in love in the summertime. The song lives in that place where the newness and freshness of getting to know someone turns into a tinge of fear because you realize how much you have come to care about them. I tend to get so overtaken in feelings of uncertainty or impermanence when it comes to relationships. Probably due to having rocky foundations or complications in them in the past. But suddenly, for the first time, I found myself in something that felt safe, with healthy attachment and mutual admiration, and the inevitability of uncertainty became more easily accepted. I think it's so sweet that the song found this full circle moment in the timelessness of different types of firsts in love."

Slow Pulp Tour Dates Wed. Oct. 04 - Milwaukee, WI @ Colectivo - Backroom % Thu. Oct. 05 - Minneapolis, MN @ Amsterdam Hall % Fri. Oct 06 - Omaha, NE @ Slowdown % Sun. Oct. 08 - Denver, CO @ Globe Hall % Tue. Oct. 10 - Salt Lake City, UT @ Kilby Court % Thu. Oct. 12 - Seattle, WA @ Neumos % Fri. Oct. 13 - Vancouver, BC @ The Pearl on Granville % Sat. Oct. 14 - Portland, OR @ Aladdin Theatre % Mon. Oct. 16 - San Francisco, CA @ The Chapel % Wed. Oct. 18 - Los Angeles, CA @ Teragram Ballroom % Fri. Oct. 20 - San Diego, CA @ Voodoo % Sat. Oct. 21 - Santa Ana, CA @ Constellation Room % Sun. Oct. 22 - Phoenix, AZ @ Rebel Lounge % Tue. Oct. 24 - Houston, TX @ White Oak Music Hall % Wed. Oct. 25 - Dallas, TX @ Club Dada % Thu. Oct. 26 - Austin, TX @ The Parish % Sat. Oct. 28 - Atlanta, GA @ Purgatory % Sun. Oct. 29 - Durham, NC @ Motoco % Mon. Oct. 30 - Washington, DC @ Union Stage % Tue. Oct. 31 - Philadelphia, PA @ The Foundry % Wed. Nov. 1 - New York, NY @ Bowery Ballroom % Fri. Nov. 3 - Boston, MA @ Brighton Music Hall % Mon. Nov. 6 - Montreal, QC @ Bar Le Ritz % Tue. Nov. 7 - Toronto, ON @ Horseshoe Tavern % Fri. Nov. 10 - Madison, WI @ Majestic Theater % Sat. Nov. 11 - Chicago, IL @ Thalia Hall % Wed. Nov. 29 - Leeds, UK @ Brudenell Social Club # Thu. Nov. 30 - Liverpool, UK @ Jimmy’s # Fri. Dec. 1 - Glasgow, UK @ The Hug and Pint # Sat. Dec. 2 - Dublin, IR @ The Workman's Club # Mon. Dec. 4 - Manchester, UK @ YES (Basement) # Tue. Dec. 5 - Bristol, UK @ Strange Brew # Wed. Dec. 6 - London, UK @ MOTH Club # Thu. Dec. 7 - Brighton, UK @ The Green Door Store # Sat. Dec. 9 - Amsterdam, NL @ Paradiso Upstairs Sun. Dec. 10 - Antwerp, BE @ TRIX # Mon. Dec. 11 - Paris, FR @ L’International # Wed. Dec. 13 - Berlin, DE @ Badehaus Szimpla # Thu. Dec. 14 - Leipzig, DE @ Conne Island # Fri. Dec. 15 - Schorndorf, DE @ Manufaktur # Sat. Dec. 16 - Munster, DE @ Gleis 22 #   % w/ Babehoven # w/ PACKS

Connect with Slow Pulp:

Official Site | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

[occasionalsurveys]

Survey 7?

Tell me about the first five photos you have on your phone or camera: They are saved pictures from my sibling-in-laws.  They were sending pics of their kids during their Christmas vacation

Have you got any half or step siblings? Nope, only full blooded siblings

When was the last time you were disappointed? Last night but it was one of those “disappointed but not surprised” type of things ugh

When was the last time you had wet hair? Yesterday

Do you like kids’ movies? Yeah but it depends, mostly kid movies from when I wad a kid. I haven’t seen any new kid movies in the last couple years

Have you ever known someone online and then met them in person? If so, which website did you meet on? I did! I met them on MySpace lol (obviously this was a long time ago!)

Have you ever been to the beach? If so, tell me the name of the beach you last went to and when. I've been to many beaches in the US, Mexico and Bahamas. And I lived in several FL cities that are pretty close to the beach. Most recent was Sanibel Island in May 2022 but wont be back there for a while as it got destroyed by Hurricane Ian :(

When was the last time you were sick and what illness did you have? I had a really bad cold in November

When did you last wash your hair? Yesterday but I’ll be taking a shower here pretty soon

Who did you last speak aloud to and what did you say? My co-worker - I’m off work today and tomorrow but she was calling about an account we were working on and had a question about something that needed to be done today for the client.

Do you know anyone with a serious anger management problem? Not that i know of

Do you have a calendar in your room? Yes, but not like a typical calendar.  I have a calendar in my bullet journal that I update every couple days.  When we’re in our house, I will definitely have a calendar hanging on the wall.

What color is your wallet? Its beige

Did you get swine flu? No

Do you know anyone from Alabama? I dont think so

How bright is it in the room you’re in? Medium I'd say.

What can you smell right now? Nothing in particular.  Coffee maybe?  I have my cup right next to me.

Have you ever bought a game from a site like Big Fish Games or Shockwave? Yes, from Big Fish! And fun fact - my husband and I actually used to work at Big Fish about 10 years ago! Literally the reason we moved to Seattle in 2012 lol So odd to find the company mentioned in a survey!!

Have you ever had a snow day? Never!!! Even growing up in the Midwest, we never got snow days.  I was always so jealous when other schools nearby had snow days or even delayed but my school was NEVER closed.  

Have you seen all the Lord of the Rings movies? Yes, many times! We want to do a whole all day marathon once we’re in our house - all the Hobbit movies followed by Lord of the Rings.

Do you have an unhealthy obsession with colored furry throw pillows that are different shapes and sizes? No?  I don't care for decorative pillows and wouldn’t typically buy them.  I do have a few but only because they’re very special ones: We have a Meat Pillow (bought from a ComicCon years ago from a Monster Hunter booth)  I bought one for my husband that has ChaCha and Kuyumba from Monster Hunter print on it.  Another one of the Going Merry from One Piece (just its head though), and my mother-in-law MADE me an adorable Owl one for Christmas this year.

How often do you change your underwear? Everyday

Doesn’t it bother you when guys in your family / household leave the toilet seat up so that you wind up almost falling in when you’re sleepy and dazed at 3:00 AM and need to pee? That actually doesn't happen here!

Approximately how many books do you have in your house? There are a TON of books in this house. My Mother-In-Law and I constantly read, although we do not have the same interest in books

Have you ever had to call the cops on someone else before? Yes, a domestic issue at an old apt we used to live at (not us, for a neighbor)

Have you ever been to court for something other than a traffic ticket? Yes, I had a huge issue with one of my roommates not paying the rent/pocketing money from another roommate.  We had to go to court to settle the issue between my roommates and our landlord. Its a long story but the short version is - never move in with someone/sign a contract with someone you don’t know/fully trust.

Don’t you hate it when people suddenly love a celebrity when they die? Meh, don’t really care.

What type of math are you the best at? NONE.  I am HORRIBLE with math and just do not understand numbers at all.

How’s the weather? Much better - like 60′s?  It was in the 40′s a couple days ago which was great for Christmas (I miss the cold/snow for this time of year) but now that the holiday is done, it needs to get back to a normal FL temperature lol

[surveysandthings]

8.

Tell me about the first five photos you have on your phone or camera. The 1st is a calendar I made, the next 3 are pictures/videos of my dog loving the new bed we got her, and the 5th is an anniversary picture of my husband and I!

Have you got any half or step siblings? All my siblings are half siblings but I don’t have any step siblings, thankfully.

When was the last time you were disappointed? A couple days ago, I invited my mom to see an artist we both loved when I was a kid in concert and she declined for reasons I knew were a lie, which was extra disappointing because she’s going out of her way to see my little sister’s favorite artist that she doesn't even like. 

When was the last time you had wet hair? Thursday night I think.

Do you like kids’ movies? Oh yeah!

Have you ever known someone online and then met them in person? If so, which website did you meet on? Yes, my husband! And I met one girl off Bumble BFF but it didn’t work out.

Have you ever been to the beach? If so, tell me the name of the beach you last went to and when. I have! We went to Santa something island in Florida wayyyy back in 2012.

When was the last time you were sick and what illness did you have? I had a cold back in April.

When did you last wash your hair? ...Thursday night.

Who did you last speak aloud to and what did you say? My husband, he was asking me which game he should play.

Do you know anyone with a serious anger management problem? My family for sureeee.

Do you have a calendar in your room? Nope!

What color is your wallet? Black.

Have you ever been to Manhattan? Newp.

Are you wearing any jewelry right now? What are they? I’m wearing my wedding rings on my left ring finger and then a super thin little gold chain ring on my right ring finger.

Did you get swine flu? I did, actually. It was fucking awful and to this day, it’s the sickest I've ever been.

Do you know anyone from Alabama? Not personally!

How bright is it in the room you’re in? We have a massive living room window and it’s daytime with the curtains open but it’s overcast outside so it’s perfectly lit but not blinding or anything.

What can you smell right now? Nothin!

Have you ever bought a game from a site like Big Fish Games or Shockwave? I think so!

Have you ever had a snow day? Oh yeah. They were more frequent when I was a kid but we had a huge blizzard in April and we were snowed in for days.

Have you seen all the Lord of the Rings movies? I think so actually.

Do you have an unhealthy obsession with colored furry throw pillows that are different shapes and sizes? Mmm, no.

How often do you change your underwear? Every day to every other day, depending when I put them on the previous day. Does that make sense?

Doesn’t it bother you when guys in your family / household leave the toilet seat up so that you wind up almost falling in when you’re sleepy and dazed at 3:00 AM and need to pee? My husband always puts the toilet seat down and I never wake up in the middle of the night to pee.

Approximately how many books do you have in your house? Um...less than 10 for sure.

Have you ever had to call the cops on someone else before? I called the cops because it was like 90 degrees and someone had left their dog locked in their car.

Have you ever been to court for something other than a traffic ticket? I got married in a courthouse if that counts.

Don’t you hate it when people suddenly love a celebrity when they die? It’s weird but whatever.

What type of math are you the best at? Addition I guess?

How’s the weather? It’s cold but not as cold as it usually is this time of year. Supposedly there's a blizzard on its way here this week but it could miss us so we’ll see.

[liquidnahas]

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[lagavuling]

aesthete > athlete

name: nathan

pronouns: he/him/bruh

timezone: us cst / gmt -6

what’s your style?: this is a dangerous question to ask me because i care too much about aesthetics

appearance | voluminous hair + side part circa 1950 / short shorts / wedding ring tanline / navy / stretchy pants because thicc legs / “performance” officewear / allbirds / rainbows / basiq bro 

writing | long-winded / the only outlet for my unused minor in western literature, philosophy and theology / really obscure references / complex sentences / not kosher with ap style, mla style, chicago style, or any style

aesthetic | various shades of olive and navy / succulents / majestic casual / late summer in the south / not being a beach person / jeep wrangler towing a trailer full of kayaks / enneagram 3 wing 4 / enfj / curated playlists / chip and joanna gaines / phil dunphy (modern family) meets schmidt (new girl) meets chidi anagonye (the good place) / johnnyswim / bourbon cocktails / pipe tobacco

favorite plots/type of threads: bromance, harmonious relationships, lots of crying.

song you think represents you: the prince of the hanging gardens by beatenberg - it’s a bougie bop

song that actually represents you: we hate it when our friends become successful by morrisey - because petty af

anything else?: i put too much effort in this

gif or image that represents you:

[gyusfavlibra]

THIS IS MY WORK! PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ON OTHER SITES/APPS!!!!

Warnings: +18, smut, fingering, hand job, sex in bathroom, language, jealousy, fighting, arguing.

Y/n and Sarah sat quietly on Kie's bed as they waited for Kiara to stop degrading the lavender dress she wore while standing in her large mirror. Mrs. Carrera coming through the door to make sure the girls were all dressed. "This is disgusting."

"I know it's just horrible."

"I'm asking you guys to just relax and go to a fun party."

"I look like a bourgeoisie pig."

"I think you look beautiful," y/n said while shrugging at Kie. She just gave a smile back to her, still hating the look no matter what compliments were given.

"Will you please not worry about socioeconomic injustice for one night?"

"Mom, people not three miles from her have no power, no running water, and we're going to Midsummers."

"That's so tone deaf."

"Y/n," the mother scolded at her niece. "Do you know how hard we had to work to get into the Island club?"

"Yeah, mom. How could I forget? You had to grovel for, like, ten years--"

"Twelve years, and we also had to cough up a huge chunk of dough-"

"To keep up with the Joneses-"

"No, so you had the same experiences that I had as a child."

"But weren't parents as teens out, like partying, getting drunk, making out in the backseats of their cars at drive in movies," the cousin listed while putting her things in its bag. "Getting pregnant."

"That doesn't sound fun," Sarah added.

"Do you girls even know what the Island club is?"

"A factory farm."

"For debutantes," Y/n raised her eyebrows.

"It's a nice place, with nice people where you can do fun stuff."

"With out-of-touch rich people, while the island sinks slowly into the ocean."

"Water filling the poor's destructive lungs while the wealthy ones get away on million dollar boats."

Sarah sat quietly laughing on the comfy blanketed mattress. Mr. Cerrera sighed, saying one last thing before walking out. "Okay, I want you to put on your party face, girls, if you want to live."

"Did your mom just threaten to kill us?"

"Maybe. I think so," she nods as she turned around to the duo, fixing the flower crown that sat on her cousin's head. "You nervous to see Rafe."

"Why did you have to bring that up?"

"I was curious. I know it's only been two days, but-"

"Hey, he broke up with me. So if he wants to talk, that's in his duty. Not mine. I did nothing wrong."

Sarah got off the bed, swinging on it's pole. "Except flirt with JJ, or so he says."

"I was not...flirting with JJ. He has a crush on Kiara. I'd never."

"But Rafe doesn't know that."

°°°°

*flashback*

"What if she doesn't like it?"

"She'll love it. She's hippie."

Y/n and JJ sat on John B's porch, smoking a blunt. The girl was trying to help him do something nice for Kiara so JJ could ask her out without feeling weird. He's liked her for the longest and he was finally ready to tell her how she feels.

"Alright, now practice what you're gonna say."

Just as Y/n finished saying the statement, her own boyfriend, Rafe Cameron showed up. Standing behind them listening in.

"Okay, uh, hey I have to tell you something...uh important," the blonde began speaking, using hand gestures because of his nerves. "I really really like you. Like not like friends like, but I have feelings, uhm, strong feelings for you. Because you're like super hot, andnyou're like a really cool chick. So I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna...go out with me."

"Yes, t-"

"What the hell!"

The manly unknown voice shocked them both, their figures jumping at the sound because they thought they were alone.

"Rafe, what're you doing here?"

Y/n asked confusedly as she stood from the steps. The Kook just scoffed and walked back out. Ignoring her question. She shared a glance with JJ before going to follow after him.

"Hey! Where you going? What's wrong?"

"A pogue!? Y/n, seriously?!"

"What're you talking about?"

"You're cheating on me with a pogue?" He shouted. Y/n scrunched her eyebrows, looking at the unnecessary upset individual.

"What do you mean cheating? I'm not cheating on you. We were just talking."

"Bullshit. That's bullshit! I heard it all."

"Rafe, it's not like that. Jj was just-"

"I should've known better. I should've known," he fumed. His right foot swung to kick the dirt near his truck that he was so very close to getting into.

"Known what?"

"I should've never trusted a pogue. I knew something like this was gonna happen. You were just gonna throw me away like Sarah did, Topper. Right? Huh?"

"You sound ridiculous. I was never throwing you away. I was helping him out."

"Yeah, while you're at it. Might as well help sleep with him too."

Y/n scoffed, taking a step back from the angered boy who's brain had just functioned what he said. Part of him regretted it very much. But the other part thought you deserved it because of his cheating accusation.

He opened his vehicle door. Stepping one foot inside. "We're done."

The girl just laughed with held tears reaching for the openess. She turned around to head back inside as Rafe just drove off.

°°°°

"Hey, no tearing up today. Go to this stupid thing and show him that his little cheating accusation act didn't hurt you at all. You're stronger than that."

"Thanks, Kie."

The girls finished up their last minute touches. That includes sweeping their dresses with roller for no hair, any makeup redos, or hair finishes. The ride to the country club was quiet. Well, y/n was quiet.

This would be her first time seeing Rafe since their break up a three days ago. They've been doing everything in their mighty to avoid each other. And it definitely worked. But like her friend told her, she wasn't gonna get worked up. Letting Rafe see her weak was like telling him he was right about everything. But he wasn't.

"Jesus, Kook land."

"I forgot how packed this thing is every year."

"Well, let's go. I gotta walk out with my family."

The Cameron family walked out with their heads high and the Kook crowd cheered for each one. Y/n kept her eyes gazed to Kiara since they were in the middle of a conversation. Not caring if that family came in or not. That excludes Sarah.

Rafe watched from his spot by his dad, as they exited to outside. Breath hitched when he saw Y/n and her dress. It was a dark toned red, had tulle, and a revealing  chest opening.

A red flower crown on her head, complimenting her beautiful down hair. She looked amazing and hot to Rafe. He had to clear his throat before excusing himself.

"Hey," the red dresses girl heard from beside her as a hand landed on her lower back. She removed it before her eyes retracted to theirs. Kie just pursed her lips before leaving to hangout with Sarah. Y/n internally screaming that she left her there.

"What do you want?"

"Uh, you look nice."

"Okay. Thanks. You don't too. What do you want?"

"Nothing. Just saying hi."

"Bye."

"Wait, wait, wait. Why are you mad at me? Shouldn't I be the mad one here?"

"Why?"

"Because of what you did," he said with furrowed eyebrows. Y/n shrugged.

"I didn't do anything."

"Do- do you not remember what happened on the cut three days ago? The fight."

"You slut shaming me and accusing me of cheating with JJ. That? Yeah, I remember that."

"Accused? I heard you."

"Heard what exactly?"

"JJ, was telling you he liked you and thought you were a cool hippie chick, which you are not. You're not hippie. And then he asked you out and you said yes. As soon as I walked in."

Y/n stared at him blankly. Before bursting out laughing. A few guests behind them staring with a look that showed they weren't used to loud talkers or laugher. "Oh my god. You thought? Jesus that's absolutely hilarious."

"What is?"

"That you think- you think that JJ was confessing feelings to me. Whew that's rich."

"I heard it, Y/n."

"He wasn't confessing anything to me you shit head. He was practicing for when he asked out Kiara."

Rafe was confused. Majorly. Inside and out. "But she-"

"He likes Kiara. And she's my cousin. You think I'd really hurt anyone like that? How low of me do you think? Have fun at this party."

Y/n walked off to go look for her disappeared friends. Not wanting to spend another second in a spot with someone who was so rude over something he knew nothing about. Just assumed. Never asked.

As she walked down the corridors of the porch that many people stood on drinking, a hand grabbed her shoulder, turning her around. Her eyes fixated on the blonde in a black tux and a bow tie.

"Holy shit, JJ. You scared me. What're you doing here?" She asked as she hugged him.

"Well, Sarah somehow convinced her dad to let me in tonight to hangout with Kie."

"Have you seen her?"

"I was just looking for her myself. C'mon. She's probably inside."

She grabbed his hand. Pulling him inside. They found Kie just minutes later with Pope. He was working the grill with his dad. Sarah was getting raided by Topper about their own stupid shit. Y/n decided to go get herself a drink and maybe find someone to dance with.

The straw rested on her lips as she stood against the porch railing. Gazing over all the people who say around laughing, probably bragging about their money, summer vacations, their older kids getting into a good college. Typical kook things.

Her eyes focused on a specific couple talking off to the side. Her eyes burning a whole in the back of Rafe's head as he tried to flirt up a storm with some Kook she didn't know whatsoever.

Her body was fuming. Was Rafe really gonna sit in front of her and flirt with a whole other girl that isn't her. Just a few days after their breakup. It's like he's trying to play victim. And she's had it.

"Hey, Sancho. Lassie."

The brunette Rafe was talking up a storm to laughed. "I'm sorry who are you?"

"Oh, you gonna introduce me to your side piece here?"

"Would you stop? We're just talking."

"Talking? Yeah, okay," Y/n laughed. The girl just looked at her dazed. "Hi, I'm his girlfriend. Y/n. And you, yeah you're excused."

Rafe was truly enjoying this scene. Internally rooting for Y/n. He wasn't gonna object to that fact that she called herself his girlfriend. Because now that he knew the truth, it changed his perspective.

"Who do you think you are?"

"I already told you. Wh- can you not hear correctly?"

"He said he was single so, why-"

"He lied. So, you can go away now- Rafe. Let's go. We need to talk."

"What're you his mother now?" The rando questioned. Y/n turned to her and gripped her face.

"If you wanna keep these teeth, then I suggest you stop talking. Go find somebody else's boyfriend to mack on."

She dragged Rafe by his hand into the upstairs private bathroom. Locking the door behind her. "What're you doing?"

"Just having a friendly conversation. There a problem?"

"You were flirting, Rafe. That was flirting," she paced. Hand against her for head.

"Like you're any better. You lied to me."

"I've never lied about anything."

"You said JJ liked Kiara."

"Yeah. He does."

"Then why is he holding your hand, hugging you, and leaving inside with you instead of the girl he supposedly likes," Rafe argued. Gripping onto the large counter.

"Rafe, I grabbed his hand and brought him inside to find Kiara. And I hugged him because I was happy for my friend. God, Rafe how many times do I have to tell you that I am not cheating on you."

"It's kind of hard to believe that shit when I keep seeing things with my own eyes."

"Then stop assuming and come ask me. Jesus, do you not trust me or something. Because I trust you. Anytime I hear that you're at a party doing lines with hot blonde's next to you, I brush it off because I know you'd never. Why can't you just do that for me."

Rafe stood from his seat. Pinching the bridge of nose. The guilty conscience grazed through his mind as he listened to her words. He had issues with trust and with others, but he knew it wasn't a reason to take it out on the only person who's loved him for him.

"I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry. You're right. I should trust you. Just like you trust me. I'll work on it. I promise."

"Don't promise me that. Just show me that you love me just as much."

The words clicked. He did love her. And he cared about her. More than anyone in this world. And he wanted to show her. In the most physical way possible.

"C'mere."

"Why?"

"Just c'mere," he repeated as he grabbed her by her waist, pulling her closer to him. She stumbled, but Rafe's grip kept her in place. He moved his face closer to hers, lips almost touching as they grazed against each other.

He used the hand placed on her waist to grip the fabric of her dress. Pulling it upwards. Her breath hitched as he hand snaked under the red tulle and right onto her now soaking core. His pointy finger swept across the waistband of her panties.

Y/n wasn't expecting this as the outcome from their miniature argument but she wasn't complaining. And neither was Rafe.

He pushed her underwear down as much as he could from their position, before going back to her walls and making circular motions. Rafe finally closer the space, kissing her lips practically roughly as he continued rubbing her.

He kept a firm hand on her waist to make sure she had a gripping support if he legs gave out, which they indeed will. The motions stopped as Y/n pulled her lips away from his. Rafe stared at her daring eyes, questioning if she wanted his to continue.

"Put them inside me," she whispered. The Cameron smirked before obliging to her demand. He stuck to fingers into her wet cunt. A soft moan escaped her lips as he did so. Pumping them in and out of her. Y/n rubbed her hand against the erection in his dress pants.

"You like that, yeah?"

She nodded as the locked her lips. Not being able to speak because knowing if she did, she let out a loud moan and even at this club would hear.

She unbuckled his pants, putting her handninside to grip his penis and pump it as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. The hand he held to her waist was now gripped on her neck, gently. Y/n clenched around his fingers. Feeling her high come close. "Dont stop."

Rafe began pumping faster just as Y/n did so. The teens were so horny that they were both already reaching their extent. Rafe's shaft twitched in her hand. "I'm cumming."

"Do it for me."

That's all it took for Y/n to finish. And Rafe too. His liquids filling her hands as they both let out moans due to their intense actions. In one swift motion, Rafe snaked a hand around Y/n's waist turning then so she was against the counter. Her pulled the straps of her dress of her shoulders, leaving kisses as he did so before connecting his lips to hers.

Her pulled his tuxedo jacket off him. Snapping the bowtie off as well. Y/n moaned at the tluchnof his hands on her breast. Massaging them in his hands over the fabric of her strapless bra.

Y/n unbuttoned the spots on his shirt before pulling it off his shoulders and onto the floor. Rafe stop his gripping motions and pulled down his pants and boxers. He sat her up on the counter. Her bare ass connecting to the coldness of the marble designed setting.

Rafe rubbed his tip against her fold once or twice before pushing himself into her. Not giving a warning, but Y/n loved the suddeness. Y/n let a moan into his next as he began thrusting his hips. The girl gripping her black painted nails into his back.

Rafe's eyes rolled to the back of his head. Enjoying the feelings of Y/n's cunt wrapped around him.

"You like that?"

"Yes, god yes."

Y/n sat up, wrapping her arms around his neck. Each moan and huff she exposed in his earn make his whole body shiver. Rafe let out a grunt before answering. She clenched her walls around his dick. The dirty blonde groaned slamming into her body. "Do it again."

She did so. Clenching around around the boy as he slammed into her again. This time, hitting the spot that made her whole body go insane. "Tell me I'm yours."

"You're mine."

A moan escaped her lips after he said what she had wanted. Her hand smacked down onto the edge of the sinks counter. Grilling onto it for dear life. "Tell me it again."

The feeling of her finishing was fastly approaching. As well as for Rafe. The moans she let out made his go over the edge as he fucked her hard. "Tell me, Rafe."

"You're fucking mine, ah-"

Each of them let out a loud moan as they finished. Covering each others mouths. There shouldn't be anyone upstairs but for precautions they covered either way.

Rafe's head fell forward onto her chest. Taking large breaths as y/n did too. "Shit, y/n."

The Cameron pulled out of her. Helping her get redressed and cleaned just after he did himself.

"You're still on the pill right?" He asked as he zipped his pants.

"Yeah. It's fine," she smiled up at his 6'4 figure. Rafe reached down to kiss her passionately.

"I love you, Y/n."

"I love you, too."

[qyuoza]

Dream Reality #4: Content — Soobin

Prompt: Soobin falls asleep in Y/n's lap and Y/n has a conversation with someone else while stroking Soobin's hair as if they were a sleeping cat.

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Soobin x afab!reader

Synopsis: The day was going well so Y/n and Soobin decided to spend their time indoors to recharge their energy. As Y/n talks to her best friend on the phone, whilst Soobin is on her lap, she feels him fall asleep while playing with his hair as she giggles at him.

Disclaimer: These stories do not depict how the Tomorrow X Together members act in real life. Everything is pure fiction and is written for entertainment.

Warnings: n/a

Magic Island Series Masterlist

It was a gloomy rainy day when you and Soobin woke up, but you both didn’t mind because you both loved to spend the day indoors.

“Y/n? Can you cook something pleasee” Soobin whined. You glare at your boyfriend as he sticks his tongue playfully.

“I would but I’m way too lazy Bin, we can always order. Here, give me your phone” you steal Soobin’s phone with a grin as you open the food delivery app, ready to order something for your lazy day in.

“Can you get pizza actually, I’m craving it right now” Soobin says, peeking at the phone.

With a nod, you put in your order and wait for it to go through with the payment. At this point, Soobin was already laying on your lap, staring up at you with wide eyes.

“Bin what is it?” You inch the phone away from yourself and he doesn’t say anything but continues to stare at you with a dazed smile.

“You’re so pretty Y/n” Soobin grins. You roll your eyes and blush at his words, immediately handing him his phone, but he only placed it onto the coffee table.

You look down at him and play with his hair, before giving him a kiss on his forehead. “I like when you do that, can you continue? I’m gonna take a nap until the food arrives” Soobin says with his eyes closed.

“Alright, you don’t mind if I call Chaewon do you?” Soobin shakes his head and continues to fall asleep to your touch, whilst you ring up your best friend because of how boring it is.

After a few minutes, you and Chaewon were completely engaged in a deep conversation and gossiping here and there, only for you to realize that Soobin had finally fallen asleep on your lap, while you were still playing with his hair.

“Chae I’ll have to call you back, Soobin’s fallen asleep on my lap unfortunately” Chaewon jokingly makes a disgusted face as you bid her goodbye. You then chuckle at your boyfriend, he was really just a tall softie to you.

© qyuoza 2022 -. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/copy onto any other sites.

[demxters]

Perfect

jj maybank x reader 

summary: you remind JJ that you don’t want to love anyone but him. 

word count: 1.3k

warnings: swearing, violence 

a/n: so, i took a leap of faith and decided to post something i wrote a little while ago that’s been sitting in my drafts forever. this is my first fic so please let me know how it is!

and i would personally like to thank @spideycapsenses​ for her kind words and advice that helped me gain the courage to post this :)

(gif credit: @rudypankows​)

***

As you laid in bed with your head against JJ’s chest and his arm wrapped around your waist, you couldn’t help but reach up and place a soft kiss against his collar bone. You hear him sigh before he says, “I’m really sorry for how today turned out, love.” 

You sit up turning around to face him. “What do you mean?” you ask. 

“You know what I mean. I just wanted to do something nice for my girl and it all went to shit.” He scoffs before continuing. “I’m surprised you still want to be around me after what happened.” 

JJ shakes his head and runs a hand through his blonde hair. “God, I’m such a fuck up.” 

“Hey, you stop that right now,” you say sternly, placing a hand on his chest. “You are not a fuck up. It’s not your fault Rafe and Topper are assholes and it is not your fault that you were just trying to protect me.” 

Earlier that day JJ had planned the perfect date for your one year anniversary, a day full of surfing and a picnic on the beach. It was nearing sunset when you had both agreed to start packing up and heading home. On the way to your car, Rafe and Topper. 

“Well what have we got here?” Rafe says with a menacing smile. He steps closer to you and JJ, keeping his eyes on you. He looks you up and down. “Damn, Y/N if all Pogues looked like you, I’d be all over this side of the island.” 

JJ grabs your hand interlocking his fingers with yours and pushes you behind him, his body shielding yours. “Look at her like that again and I swear to god I’ll kick your ass all the way back to Figure 8.” 

“JJ, just leave it. Let’s go,” you say already knowing where this is going. You couldn’t risk JJ getting into another fight with Rafe and Topper, not after what happened with Topper’s yacht. You tug on his hand trying to get him to turn around and leave but he stands his ground. 

“Hey man, we’re not here to start a fight, we’re just complimenting your girl over there. I mean she’s a site for sore eyes,” Topper adds. 

You roll your eyes and try prying JJ’s hand out of yours, but it was no use, his hand gripped onto yours like his life depended on it. You notice his back muscles tense as he clenches his jaw.“Just leave. Please, we don’t want any trouble,” you say peeking out from behind JJ. 

“Oh, JJ why don’t you let your bitch off her leash so we can have a little fun,” Rafe says with a laugh. 

Everything began to move so fast after that. The next thing you knew JJ had let go of your hand and lunged straight at Rafe, punching him in the face. Rafe stumbles back a little bit taking the blow before moving forward and punching JJ back. JJ stumbles back, falling into Topper. Topper wraps his arms around JJ’s waist preventing him from moving and Rafe continuously delivers punches to JJ’s stomach. 

“Stop!” you shriek, hating to see your boyfriend in pain. You rush forward knowing they weren’t going to listen to you and jump onto Topper’s back, pulling him to the ground. This makes him release JJ and he falls to the ground as well, still in a daze from all the punches. You release Topper before walking up to Rafe next and raise your first to punch him in the face. Before you can manage to get his face, he grabs your wrist and squeezes it tight. You let out a gasp from the discomfort. 

“C’mon Y/N, why spend your days with him when I could be all yours, baby?” 

Rafe’s comment was enough to knock JJ out of his stupor. JJ pushes himself off the ground and pulls you out of Rafe’s grasp. He then knocks Rafe down and begins to deliver punch after punch to his face. 

You try to reach out to JJ to get him to snap out of his angry rage only to be stopped by Topper pulling you back. “Y/N no, you’ll only get yourself hurt.” 

“He won’t hurt me, please let me go to him,” you plead, tears filling your eyes. 

“Hey man, that’s enough!” Topper says when he realizes that Rafe has stopped fighting back. 

You notice too and you get a sick feeling in your stomach. “JJ! Stop! You might kill him! Leave him alone JJ!” 

At the sound of your voice, JJ’s body freezes. The tone of your voice is one he never wanted to hear from you ever directed towards him. A voice full of fear. Snapped out of his trance he slowly stands up breathing heavily before turning around to face you. Tears are streaming down your face and there’s a cut on your lip from when you hit the ground with Topper. Your eyes held an emotion he couldn’t quiet name as you looked at him. All the anger he felt disappeared and the only thing he could feel was guilt. 

“JJ, let’s go, please,” is all you say before turning around and walking away. You don’t even wait for him to catch up with you. You just keep on walking.  

“Look, things got out of hand out there, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you because of it,” you say. You take the hand that isn’t on his chest and place it on his cheek, softly caressing his face. His right eye is beginning to bruise, he has a split lip, and his jaw is swollen but he still looks beautiful in your eyes. 

“Well you should,” he says, turning away from you, leaving your hand to fall on his shoulder. “You don’t deserve to be put through so much pain because I can’t control my temper. You asked me to leave and I didn’t listen. I decided to stay and now we both had to pay the price because of it.” He looks away from you so you don’t see his tear filled eyes. “I don’t deserve you, Y/N. You shouldn’t be with a guy like me. I can never be the perfect boyfriend.” 

“Hey, look at me,” you practically demand, putting a finger below his chin and tilting his head upward so you can see his eyes. “I don’t need the perfect boyfriend, JJ. I already have you,” you say with a smile, eyes watering. “Everything about you is perfect enough for me.” You bring both your hands up to cup his face and move so you are now straddling his waist. “From your blonde hair that always seems to be a mess,” you pause to place a kiss in his hair. “To your beautiful ocean blue eyes that remind me of all the days we spend on the beach,” you pause again placing a soft kiss against the bruise underneath his eye. “Your protective nature and unconditional love for your friends may get us into trouble at times, but I wouldn’t change it for a thing,” you grab his hands in yours before placing a kiss on each and every bruised and bloodied knuckle. “And your lips that spill both the dirtiest obscenities and the most loving words a girl will ever hear.” JJ lets out a small laugh from your comment which makes you smile. You lean forward  placing a soft, yet passionate kiss against his lips. JJ kisses you back and you feel something wet fall onto your cheeks. You open your eyes and pull away to see JJ staring back at you with tears running down his face. 

Tears continue to stream down JJ’s face from the words that fell from your lips. Not once in his life has he ever felt more loved. He stares at you with love and adoration in his eyes as he silently thanks whatever higher being is among them for blessing him with the girl in front of him. JJ wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest. He leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes once more, wanting to live in this moment forever. “I love you, Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“And I love you, JJ Maybank.”

[zettaiunmeis]

HI THANKS TO @raventrigonsdaughter LETTING ME KNOW THAT OG GAME CARMEN AND JULIA USED TO BE PARTNERS BEFORE CARMEN WENT ROGUE, LET ME PROPOSE: VILE!JULIA.

details under the cut because this got Long

jules is part of the either the same class the ~infamous~ black sheep

and they don’t? really like each other? like julia is still kinda Serious and she doesnt really appreciate the vile squad goofing around and tossing water balloons or whatever and black sheep finds julia a little too uptight even if she’s interested in a lot of the same things (history, etc.)

black sheep’s speciality is Being SLick, as we know, but julia’s is patterns (and also historical artifacts)

ok but the important part of this is that bc julia’s is patterns, she ends up being like a scout or smth along those lines bc she can analyse patterns and report back to help plan the caper

and that basically means that when she graduates, she ends up in far more long cons than any of the others

anyway, after black sheep gets in trouble for the water balloon thing, the faculty decide she’s far too mischievous, and so, they assign her a partner — julia

(side note: its kind of the same thing that ends up happening to jean-luc and antonio a bit later on, but thats more because they work well together, and less bc either one of them needed a grounding influence)

anyway black sheep and jules again. do not like each other. but that doesnt mean they dont work well together — julia’s got an eye for patterns, and black sheep has every thieving trick in the book ready and waiting up her sleeves (alongside an instinct for thievery)

slowly, as they are forced to work together more and more, they kind of reach a less tense partnership and then one day black sheep makes a history joke and thats how they become friends

like julia is still very pointedly Not friends with the rest of the vile squad bc they’re still very reckless and immature, etc

but shes sort of seen black sheep when she’s been more grounded and less hyper/feral and she?? kind of doesnt mind??

bc grounded black sheep isnt constantly trying to prove that she’s The Best and grounded black sheep isnt trying to prove that she’s more than just the teacher’s pet — she’s kind of just having fun with julia and julia’s been so serious about her training that she hasnt really made any other friends and…. its nice

its nice to have black sheep loudly slip into the seat next to her and and tease julia about whatever recent historical discovery she’s researching and pull her out of her own head once in a while

and its nice to have black sheep glance over in the middle of class when sheena — sorry tigress — whines about something or the other and roll her eyes in the same way julia feels like doing, even if something strange sticks in her throat when carmen does the same with gray

she can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but at some point, she starts thinking of black sheep as her friend and it’s an exciting enough thought that she’s got a little smile on her face next time black sheep slips into the seat next to her in professor maelstrom’s class

and at some point julia stops being just julia to black sheep, and starts being jules because we’re in a school for thieves, but we’ve already got plenty of ~jules~ right here and thats sincerely the worst joke i’ve ever heard and oh really ~jules~? bet i could find an even worse one

and like all the usual stuff is still happening in the background — shadowsan-black sheep rivalry, gray and the Squad being black sheep’s friends, the phone and player, etc.

its just that now, black sheep has a bit of a calming influence and that does help!

and they work well enough that most people assume that julia and black sheep will be partners after graduation 

even crackle acknowledges it — despite the jealousy he feels at the knowledge

so things continue and all this happens, but then comes finals.

things go the same. black sheep gets perfect scores in all of her exams, except stealth 101

julia — now the historian — can’t help but check for whether black sheep graduated too and just as she does, she hears crackle say it: she didn’t pass

and she wants to go to black sheep and ask if she’s okay because everyone knows how much black sheep’s wanted this, how much she’s been working for it, but by the time gray’s been dragged off by tigress, black sheep has disappeared and julia has no idea where she’s gone

so she waits for a bit in the cafeteria and in the dorms and anywhere else she thinks that black sheep would be and she sees… nothing

and about twelve hours after the results, the faculty pulls her for her first mission (for context, this is before the whole,,, hear the true name of vile thing) which is basically being a plant for the morocco mission, by pretending to be an archaeology phd student from oxford who’s come to study the findings in the excavation

and she’s busy enough with that that she barely gets to think about black sheep or graduation or anything other than the near-overwhelming anxiety that comes with the horrifying ordeal of potentially being Known but she just manages to figure out like,,, guard rotations, as well as the exact objects that are at the site for the vile squad to steal

and then she’s out before they even get there — julia’s pattern recognition and historical knowledge made her pretty useful when it comes to planning capers so it meant that she’s always travelling around the world ahead of each caper, but would also make her a pretty invaluable asset to vile, so they can’t afford to get her caught

julia doesnt hear about black sheep nearly messing up morocco until much later, and even then, she doesn’t have all the info

all she can do is wonder why the hell the faculty would fail someone who somehow managed to sneak out of vile island without anyone realising until much later

and yes, maybe a part of her misses her old partner, but she knows that it wouldn’t matter anyway — she was the mole, and she’d barely get to work directly with carmen so.

but then cut to a year later, when a vile counterfeit operation in boston is suddenly sabotaged

cut to the moment when, julia, despite not having seen her in a year, is still able to somehow recognise black sheep’s work

its Slick. its the Slickness that tips her off, and part of her is reluctant to tell the faculty who it is, but her allegiance demands it and she tells the faculty and she hates herself for it when she sees the murderous rage on each of their faces

and somehow, that — her ability to recognise this carmen sandiego — gets her in a new position, as a mole in interpol, passing on the information they get as they try to track the scarlet super thief as well

and then one day, in poitiers, julia sees her

its black sheep. it’s undeniably black sheep under that red trench coat and julia wants to go and talk to her capture her and bring her in to vile but her new partner ~chase devineaux~ is everything that once made her turn away from her interest in law enforcement and he orders her to call for backup while he tries to stroke his own ego

she does, of course, but maybe she delays it a bit, if only because she’d rather let carmen sandiego get away than have devineaux’s ego get any bigger

and the rest of the season goes much the same except after julia ends up in acme, she reports to vile about everything that’s going on, and they no longer suspect devineaux of helping carmen etc etc

and she can’t help but somewhat sympathise with what carmen’s doing — she’s returning invaluable historical artefacts and julia’s always loved history and- it’s just… altruistic. and that’s admirable. and that’s the only reason i feel so torn about helping vile. that’s it, that’s the only reason.

and then comes the chasing paper caper

what was originally the first real conversation between julia and carmen goes completely differently

(note that most vile operative outside of jules’ graduating class do not know of her existence bc she barely interacts with most of them since she’s more a spy/mole who’s out of the picture by the time anyone else gets on the scene)

carmen still needs to be able to spy on paper star without anyone noticing, so she still goes for the seat right in front of the cute short-haired girl sitting alo- and oh my god jules?

and its the first time julia has heard that nickname in over a year and oh God they were just friends this should Not hit this hard what the Heck

and carmen still sits down and just quietly grills her as to what the hell is going on bc she Knows that jules is a always a mole and never an active part of a caper and she doesn’t?? understand??

and jules is kind of in a daze, but she’s been Trained so she feeds carmen her cover story:

she defected from vile when she saw how they were treating historical artefacts — melting down gold, selling priceless works of art to the highest bidder, etc. etc. — and that since then she’s been silently helping interpol with taking down vile ops, etc.

and it takes a bit but carmen kind of starts to believe it — she knows julia loves history with all her heart, and she’s… well, she’s never been the kind of recruit that carmen’s expected to see in vile anyway, so. it’s not out of the realm of possibility, is it, for julia to be a defector working against vile? after all, isn’t she the same?

so she starts looking around, while waiting for paper star to make a move, and she ends up noticing the briefcase in the seat next to her, and for some reason, those initials — clearly chase devineaux — make her want to scowl

“new partner?” “oh… its… well, work. work... partner” “oh.”

uhhh anyway i might actually. write this? idk don’t count on anything lmaooo.

[gaeilgeoirgay]

Day Two- Date Night

Tis Day 2 of SpideyTorch week! Here’s my entry for today’s prompt 

Ao3 Link

@spideytorchweek 

You Deserve It All (and more)

Johnny takes one last look in the mirror, straightening his jacket and combing through his hair. It’s his two-year anniversary dinner with Peter tonight and he wants it to be perfect. 

It’s been brilliant so far- they had met in their usual place for breakfast before taking a swing/fly around the city. They had had a picnic lunch in Central Park after a long morning of crime-fighting and had then wandered around New York, visiting a bunch of tourist traps and local spots.

Johnny’s favourite had been the Chinese garden on Staten Island while Peter’s had been a small library on Greenwich Street. They’ve both vowed to return for future dates and Johnny can’t wait.

Now though, the two of them are going for dinner in a fancy restaurant high amongst the skyscrapers, looking over their city. Daredevil had agreed to take over Peter’s patrol route for the night and the others had said they’d be around to deal with any trouble so Johnny and Peter could have the perfect date.

“You look amazing, Johnny.” His sister’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts. He turns to look at her from where she’s leaning on his doorframe, anxiously smoothing down his shirt. “You think so?” He asks and Sue smiles.

“Peter is gonna be blown away. Speaking of, you’d better get going if you don’t want to be late.” She says, checking her watch. Johnny nods and looks around for his dress shoes before spotting them beside his bed, exactly where he’d left them.

“Okay, I’m going. Thanks, Sue.” He says, slipping them on. “I’m proud of you, Johnny. What you and Peter have? You deserve it all and more.” Sue says, smiling lovingly at him. Johnny feels tears prick at his eyes and he suddenly can’t speak around the lump in his throat. He opts to hug his older sister tightly.

“I love you too, Sue.” He says quietly before pulling away. Sue straightens his tie and then beckons him out the door. He heads out, grabbing his wallet and keys along the way. Reed and Ben look up from the papers they’re hunched over to give him encouraging smiles and he waves at them before he leaves.

Johnny grabs a spare helmet, specifically Peter’s helmet, from the shelf and slides it into his motorbike’s storage compartment before toggling open the door and speeding into the night.

He drives for around fifteen minutes until he swerves to a stop outside Peter’s apartment, parking his bike at the front door of the building. Johnny jogs up the stairs, content to leave the bike for five minutes while he collects his Spider.

Johnny knocks quickly at the door before stepping back, bouncing on his heels a little in anticipation. He hears footsteps and then the door swings open, revealing Peter’s equally excited self. “Hey Flamebrain! You look…. Wow. Amazing.” Peter says brightly, his exuberant greeting trailing off as he looks Johnny up and down.

His usual motormouth of a boyfriend is struck dumb, staring at Johnny like he’s the Cullinan diamond. Johnny laughs and twirls a little, just to show off. Peter shakes himself out of his daze and steps forward, sweeping Johnny into his arms and planting a light kiss on his lips.

“You look incredible too, Pete. Why don’t you wear suits all the time again?” Johnny says, taking in the beautiful sight that is one Peter Benjamin Parker in a red suit. He’s absolutely stunning and he’s Johnny’s, somehow.

“Because suits are expensive and only to be worn on special occasions. MJ picked this one out. I’m guessing you like it?” Peter teases and Johnny pouts. “I’d have you in a suit all the time if I could. You’re gorgeous, Peter, seriously.” Johnny says, aiming to make Peter blush but still telling one hundred percent truth. Peter is beautiful in gym shorts and oversized hoodies- he’s beautiful in everything- but Johnny has always had a weakness for suits.

“Flatterer. We’d better go, I don’t want to miss our reservations.” Peter says, smiling. Johnny takes his hand then and they make their way downstairs to find Johnny’s bike miraculously in the same place. Peter grabs his helmet while Johnny swings a leg over the bike.

Peter’s arms settle around his waist and Johnny kicks the bike into gear, zooming through Queen’s near empty streets with it’s hero clinging onto him.

 They make it to the restaurant fairly quickly, as it’s off the main thoroughfares and they can avoid the traffic sinkhole of Times Square and the Boulevard.

The elevator up to the restaurant is made of glass, and the building itself is almost wall-to-wall windows. It’s probably a bitch to replace after attacks but Johnny reckons it’s made out of some sort of shatter-proof glass that actually holds up to New York’s villains. Not that it’s his problem, at least not tonight.

They’re met at the top by a maître’d, who hands their jackets off to another employee and then guides them to a table in the corner. The restaurant is all glass too and they can see right across New York’s skyline. Peter whistles lowly at the view and Johnny can’t help but agree. 

They see the skyline everyday in uniform but every new angle brings out a different side to their city and they’re usually too busy to appreciate it.

Menus appear and Johnny pores over his, trying to decide what looks the best. It’s a hard decision but eventually, he and Peter agree that Johnny will get the fancy pasta dish neither of them can pronounce while Peter gets the steak and then they’ll split it when the food arrives.

The food is delicious and the company even better. Peter and Johnny have known each other for years but somehow, they manage to have entirely new conversations every time they talk. Peter never fails to make him laugh and his impression of Doctor Doom nearly has Johnny snorting the expensive wine.

Hours pass as they eat and talk, the food as divine as it sounded. Even their vigilante appetites are satisfied by the end of dessert and they end up retreating to the balcony to watch the city lights, in imitation of the stars they can’t see.

Peter lays his head on Johnny’s shoulder and he pulls his boyfriend in tight, dropping a kiss on the top of his head as they stand in each other’s embrace.

 A distant explosion sounds and Johnny watches a plume of smoke start to rise from the centre of the city.

“It’s our night off.” Johnny offers. ”Mhm, the others have it covered.” Peter replies. They stand there for another minute before they both look at each other and grin. 

The tab is settled quickly and they store their fancy clothes in one of the many lockboxes scattered around the city for this exact occasion. They both ended up wearing their suits beneath their civvies and they’re headed to the explosion site within half an hour.

When they arrive, Doom, Electro and Mole Man seem to have teamed up, along with a host of minions and Moloids.

Sue is the first to spot them and she laughs at their sudden appearance. “I thought we told you to take a break tonight! It’s your anniversary!” She shouts over the battle noise. It alerts the other gathered heroes to their presence and they receive a variety of other greetings.

“The first time we met we were in uniform! I think it’s a good way to end the day!” Johnny shouts back before they turn their attention to the battle. There’s a horde of Moloids beginning to burrow beneath nearby buildings so Johnny draws Peter’s attention to them and they jump into the fray.

Spider-Man and the Human Torch attack together, fighting side-by-side, not for the first time and most definitely not the last. No, they’re just getting started.

[hanaridulsetcheese]

i found you

a song of achilles x red, white and royal blue crossover.

In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.

Years passed, actually centuries passed after the death of Achilles and his lover Patroclus. The souls of the lovers drifted aimlessly in an unknown void, so close yet so far away from each other. Fate never wanted them to be together, no matter how hard the two fought, it was just never enough.

Suddenly, at the dawn of a new eon, hope seemed to spark as the souls gravitated towards each other, a distant force seemed to have had mercy on them after the eons they spent unable to be together.

"Be reborn. " it spoke as the souls vanished, "Be happy. "

~~~

Henry and Alex stood hand in hand as they waved at the paparazzi from the steps of their plane. The two boys were on their way to Greece as representatives for both the British and American embassy. The paparazzi were still as crazy about the two boys now as they were at the beginning of their relationship, multiple cameras flashed as the boys waved one last time before finally entering the plane.

"Are we really that popular? " Alex plopped himself down on the fine leather seat of the plane, propping his feet up on Henry's lap who sat opposite to him.

"Everyone loves gays in power. " Henry replied.

The flight to Greece was smooth and quicker than the two had excepted it to be. It was already the peak of dusk as they got of the plane. The smell of the Aegean sea air immediately relaxed the boys as they looked forward to their week on the lush island of Delos.

"Greetings Mr. Diaz, Prince Henry. My name is Chiron and I will be taking care of you both during your visit here. " a tall, lean man met them as they got of the plane. His long and curly hair fluttered gracefully in the breeze of the late afternoon. The man extended a broad hand towards them and they took turns shaking his hand. "I trust that your flight here was smooth? "

"Indeed, it was. " Henry agreed.

"Splendid. You both must be famished after the flight so we will take you straight to your hotel when you can have dinner and an early night. " Chiron gestured for the two men behind him to take the luggage from the boys before leading them to an SUV.

During the ride to the hotel, Chiron listened as the two boys marvelled over the passing scenery. Despite the dark of the night the beauty of Greece still shone bright, captivating the boys as they looked around.

Alex was staring to his right hand side at the beach when there was a sudden force that drew towards the left. A row of white Greek columns lined the area, forming a barrier around something that Alex felt lured to.

"Chiron, what's inbetween those columns? " Alex kept his eyes glued to the columns until they drove past it. Henry glanced back to see what Alex was looking at before turning to Chiron to hear what he had to say.

"Those protect the graves and memorials of the soliders who fought during the Trojan War. Among them is the memorial site of the famous Greek hero, Achilles, himself. " Chiron glanced at Alex through the review mirror.

"The memorial site of Achilles? " Alex mumbled before looking back at the columns again, the last column no longer in his sight as they drove further away.

"You okay? " Henry placed a gentle arm over Alex's who just nodded his head and stared back at the beach, lost in his thoughts.

Henry decided that Alex might just be jet lagged and decided to leave him be, keeping his hand interlocked with Alex's for the rest of the car ride.

~~~

It's been three days since the couple arrived in Greece and it had been hectic. They were piled with work as soon as the work up the on the first day, they're schedule packed for almost every minute.

Since the two had to work at different embassies, they saw each other for breakfast and dinner, lunch was usually spent in their respective temporary work places.

As the days past by, Alex had forgotten about the grave of Achilles he'd seen the second they were handed their work. He'd only seen books during the past three days. There was absolutely no time to go out and visit the island of Delos they were on.

However, hard work and determination did prevail as Alex managed to finish his work ahead of schedule and was now free to roam the streets of Delos as he waited for Henry to complete his work.

Walking through a little market alleyway, Alex took in the sight of the locals as they went about their daily lives. They talked, laughed and just enjoyed each other's company, greeting each other enthusiastically as they passed and Alex found himself smiling to himself. He loved the social, carefree nature the Greeks had.

The place was small, innocent and friendly. It was something Alex grew to like during his days in Greece, it was definitely a huge contrast to his life back home.

"Young man, may I offer you a sample of figs? " a friendly old lady held out a platter with the ripest figs Alex had ever seen. He gratefully accepted the offer and poped a fig in his mouth, the fresh flavour exploded, filling his tastebuds with the grainy sweetness of it's juices.

Maybe he was overwhelmed with the sweetness of the fig or he was simply just exhausted from all the work he'd done the past couple of days but as he finished the fruit, he felt his hand reach out for more of the fruit. Each bite he took, a familiar yet foreign feeling took over him.

The old lady watched in delight as the First Son inhaled the fruits one after the other until the plate was cleared.

"You sure seem to like the figs, my boy. " she handed him a tissue to wipe the juice that he didn't even know had trailed down his arm.

"It seems so. I'd never ate anything quite like it before, yet it felt so familiar to me. " Alex looked at the crate of figs that sat on the stand behind her, "Could I please buy some? "

Alex made his way back to the hotel happily with his packet of figs bumping against his legs as he walked. He didn't expect Henry to be in the room as he walked in. The British boy eyed him sceptically as he shut the door behind him.

"What'd you bring? " Henry's voice was thick with exhaustion. He was laid back against the headboard with a book spread open on his lap. Alex jumped onto the bed and showered his tired boyfriend with little pecks all over his face, giggling as he did so.

"I brought you some figs. " Alex said once Henry finally got him to calm down. "It's the best thing you'll ever taste, I swear. " Alex handed the little fruit to Henry and watched eagerly as he bit into the fruit. The bliss that struck Henry's face as the sweetness burst in his mouth made Alex satisfied.

Together, they sat on their bed and devoured the fruit while talking about their day and their time in the beautiful land of Greece. Before they hd realised it, they had come down to the last fig in the packet.

"Catch." Henry tossed the last fig to Alex. Alex felt like he watched the fig in slow motion as it formed a perfect arc before landing into the cup of his palms, soft and slightly warm.

For some reason, Alex had felt like he'd just experienced deja vu. A blured image formed in his head. He found himself looking at a table full of boys however, Alex seemed to only foucs on a specific one.

They sat on opposite ends of the table, everyone's attention was on a boy who was devouring a bowl of figs in front of him. The aura around the boy seemed to draw Alex towards him, making him unable to remove his eyes from the boy.

Suddenly, the boy diverted his gaze from the fruit to Alex who wasn't quick enough to look away. Softly, with a quick flick of his wrist the boy tossed the fig towards Alex, "Catch. "

"Alex? " Henry called out to the dazed boy.

"Huh? What? " Alex focused on Henry who gave him a concerned gaze.

"Are you feeling okay? " Henry placed the back of his hand to Alex's forehead, "You've been acting strange ever since we arrived in Greece. "

"I-I really don't know. I keep getting this feeling like- I don't know, deja vu? " Alex rubbed his temples, "I keeping thinking about those columns we passed the other day. "

"Do you want to go and visit it? " Henry offered.

"I don't think we'd have the time for that. " Alex placed his hand over Henry's and gave him a smile, "It's alright though, I'd much rather spend my time with you. "

That night, as Alex slept soundly it was Henry's turn to think about those columns. Alex had talked about it a few times since they'd got there and Henry couldn't help but want to take him there. He'd do anything for Alex.

Sending a message to Chiron, Henry requested day off for the next day saying that he had something urgent to take care of before snaking his arms around Alex's sleeping body, slipping of to sleep.

The next morning Henry awoke earlier than Alex as usual and prepared himself for the day ahead before waking up his sleeping lover.

Alex peaked at Henry through the half opened lids of his eyes and gave him a toothy grin. He puckered his lips like a fish, demanding his daily morning kiss. "Not with your morning breath, mister. " Henry pulled Alex out of bed and told him to get dressed without any further information before leaving the room.

When Alex had met up with Henry at the lobby of the hotel, they were escorted out by a friendly local who drove them to their destination which Henry still refused to tell Alex about.

After what felt like hours, they finally pulled up to the place that had been on Alex's mind since the beginning on their trip.

"The memorial of Achilles? " Alex marveled at the tall Greek columns that towered over them, all arranged protectively around multiple, marble tombs.

They walked with interlocked hands along the path, acknowledging all the soldiers that fought during the Trojan War. Multiple flowers lined the banks of the tombs along with notes written by locals who were still grateful for the war they fought.

At the very center of the memorial stood the grandest marble tomb, it's surface gleamed in the sunlight as if heaven itself was acknowledging the memorial. Alex dropped Henry's hand and walked aimlessly towards the tomb.

"I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. " Alex ran his hands along the tomb of Achilles.

"I would know him in death, at the end of the world. " Alex's voice was now barely above a whisper.

"Alex, what are you saying? " Henry placed an arm on the boys shoulder.

Alex turned to him, tears glazed his eyes and threatened to spill as he stared back at Henry. The deep brown eyes of Alex stared longingly at Henry's as if he hadn't seen them before. It felt as if the person looking at Henry was not just Alex, but for some reason be still felt connected to that person.

"I have found you, my love. " Alex said. "Achilles, we can be happy now. "

Henry finally understood what was happening, it was as if all the mysteries in the world finally became clear. "Patroclus, we found each other. "

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Arrows & Accidents

Request: Can I request an Ezio imagine with a gender neutral or male reader where the reader is or was a student of Ezio's and has gotten themselves injured.

Warnings: Violence, graphic detail of wound/treatment, swearing in Italian, LOTS of Italian lmfao (translations at the end)

Tagging: @marshmallow--3​ / @yourlocalfrenchie​ (I know it’s a male reader but I still tagged you guys jic)

13/06/2020: Lmao I almost killed you guys… oops. Also, this is 2.9K -- I spent all day on this because once I sorted out the plot, everything else was just *chef’s kiss* hope you enjoy!

Requested by @timbreavery​

----------

“You need to hit harder, Y/N.” Ezio reflected your blade effortlessly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you by mistake.”

“Who says you’ll hurt me?” He smirked, twirling his sword with a flair. 

You nodded in affirmation, and began to hail a stronger assault. Although it wasn’t enough to overwhelm Ezio, it was certainly stronger than before.

On a defensive hit, his sword sent yours flying across the training ground. “A better effort, mi amico,” he nodded approvingly. 

“Pfft.” You scoffed, going to pick up your discarded weapon. In the seconds you weren’t looking, an unknown force came into contact with your back, sending you flying to the floor and away from your sword. You laid still when you felt a blade come into contact with the back of your neck. 

“Mario is sending you on a mission which I don’t agree with. Personalmente, you do not have the experience. So you need to be ready, Y/N, or you will get hurt.” 

When he was finished, you grabbed his wrist and forcefully brought the heel of your boot into his back. It allowed you to move the blade away from your neck. With Ezio’s balance compromised, you pushed into him until he hit the ground beside you, your arm pressing against his neck and pinning his arm beside him. 

“I think I’ll be fine, Ezio.” You released him and offered a hand to help him up before readying your retrieved blade. 

“Ora, un altro?”

----------

As the sun began to set, approached the site that overran itself with Templars. Your target was the Captain, who was hiding in the area. Although it was littered in ruins, you knew the general location of him, and you were ready to bring an end to his havoc. There is rarely a proper way to prepare one to end another’s life, and normally you would avoid it at all costs, but when the end of one life could bring freedom to many, it was hard to debate the argument of life for someone so evil. 

Slowly, you weaved your way in between pillars. There were so many ways you could lose the upper hand, and so you kept vigilant when you moved. As you peered around the column, you saw him. He was patrolling with four other guards, and after assessing the situation, you weighed your options: 

You could use a throwing knife on your target and a smoke bomb to distract. 

To be more accurate, you could use a smoke bomb and charge in, hidden blade unsheathed. 

“Assassino!”

Oh, great. 

As guards unsheathed their swords and crossbows, you pointed your gauntlet at your target and let a bullet fly. As soon as the bang erupted in the air, you felt something pierce your abdomen, the force of it sending you backwards to the ground. 

Although your target got hit in the neck, you were equally as compromised in your side.

Before they could get too close, you scrambled to your feet and vaulted over a small wall, keeping your hand pressed against the wound on your waist. You kept obstacles between you and your opponents, knowing that the only way to survive was to escape. As you reached the edge of the ruins, you spotted a horse grazing on some hay. Wasting no time, you mounted the white mare, kicking your heels into her ribs as she took off towards the city. 

You had one hand holding the reins as the other reached for the foreign object embedded in your muscle; it was an arrow. Grasping the shaft, you snapped it in half, wincing as it shifted under your skin. 

As you reached the city, you began to turn harsh corners to stay out of your pursuers’ line of sight. Once you deemed it far enough away, you dismounted and hit your stolen steed on the flank, making sure she fled through the streets. Eyeing a side alley, you slipped between flailing drunkards before turning one last corner, fully out of sight. Moving like you had had caused the arrowhead to move, and in doing so your robes were coloured more with crimson than with its original white. You slid down against the wall clutching your wound, needing to slow the world as it spun around you. The adrenaline was wearing off and the pain was increasing tenfold. Feeling the blood soak your palm, you toyed with the idea of pulling it out to save your flesh from tearing more (or to bring death faster).

You knew you had to get back to Tiber Island, but you were sure that you’d draw too much unwanted attention to yourself if you took the main roads, and would almost certainly collapse without a horse. You rested your head against the bricks, willing an idea to pop into your clouded brain. 

Small thuds beside you caught your attention, and you turned your head to see a group of thieves land next you. One of them, who was probably the one in charge, pulled your hood off your head, taking in your features; pale, sweaty, barely conscious. “It’s Y/N!” He exclaimed. His eyes turned to the others. “Riccardo, get Ezio. Tell him that we’re bringing him to La Volpe Addormentata. Sbrigatevi!” One of the leanest nodded his head and took off running down the alleys. “Ora,” he spoke softer now. “Aiutami con lui.” 

Two of them grabbed your arms and lifted you to your unsteady feet. The movement stretched your side. “Agh!” Your legs buckled, and your sudden dead weight pulled everyone to their knees. 

“Mio Dio,” the leader uttered. “You! Get a horse!” You heard as feet thundered against cobblestones. “Y/N, you must move.” You looked at him in anguish; he seemed twice your age, and had a fatherly look of trust in his eye. 

“Non posso…” The crimson had spread from your waist and was not being absorbed by the fabric anymore, dripping onto the ground. 

“Yes, you can; just to the main street.” You could vaguely hear horses in front of you at the end of the alley. 

You took a deep breath, calming yourself, before you nodded weakly, head hanging low. Step by step, you were half dragged to the mouth of the alleyway. Someone was already mounted on the horse as you were being hoisted in the saddle. It was a mercenary, much bigger than you, and you held on tight to the saddle with one hand as you were sent off galloping down the street, a small entourage following you. With every bump in the saddle, an ache pounded in your head; you were having trouble keeping awake, but the harsh movements wouldn’t let you go under. 

You weren’t very aware of your surroundings when the horse came to a stop. Sitting firm, you waited for the mercenary behind you to dismount, and you attempted to follow suit. Tripping in the stirrups, the impact of the floor sent your mind reeling, your foot getting trapped in the metal. Pain radiated through your body as you fell on the protruding arrow shaft. Groaning, you weakly pushed yourself up to your hands and knees, dazed and confused. “Andiamo, ragazzo.” Multiple hands heaved you off of the dirt ridden paths, hauling you up the stairs and into the Thieves’ Headquarters.

“La Volpe!” The hooded man revealed himself by the entrance. 

His eyes assessed the situation in a second. “Bring him into the back.” People parted quickly to make space for you all to make it through. “Put him on the table.” You were turned to sit down, before slowly being lowered to lie against the wood. 

Finally being out of the streets and safe in your surroundings, you allowed yourself to relax, to close your eyes, to maybe spend a few moments asleep… 

“Y/N.” Someone patting your cheek got your eyes to reluctantly open. “Leonardo and Ezio are here.” 

Leonardo?

You swallowed thickly, not having the energy to respond other than letting your head roll to the side. As they came in, you could half-make out what they were saying. “Those doctors… will be of no use to us… I know my way around a wound.” It was Leonardo, rambling on as he was gathering the relevant supplies. 

You blinked, and Ezio towered above you. “Ah, amico mio, mi dispiace tanto.” 

Before you could respond, a hand twisted the embedded arrow shaft. You threw your head back as you cried out, hands flying to the culprit’s hand. 

“Leonardo!” Ezio chastised. 

“I needed to know if it was stuck in the bone!” He quickly justified his actions, hands raising in surrender. “Take his armour off.” 

Quickly, your upper robes were discarded, leaving your chest bare and your injury exposed. You heard the movement of metal tools before you felt something cold touch your skin. Looking down, you saw a small blade that touched the edge of the arrow wound. You grasped Leonardo’s wrist. “No, please…” Pain was hitting every nerve and muscle, and you desperately wished you were unconscious, but the fact that you weren’t meant you were going to feel everything, and at this point, you wanted to feel nothing.

Leonardo looked at Ezio and La Volpe. “Hold him down.” 

Ezio grasped your hand with one of his before using his other one to put weight on your elbow, effectively pinning you to the table. La Volpe followed suit. “I don’t like this, Leonardo,” Ezio said, looking nervous.

The artist looked up seriously. “You don’t have to.”

You felt the blade sink into your skin. The lower half of your body was numb, but your back tried to arch at the intrusion; an attempt to get away. You were hyper aware of his fingers moving inside your flesh, poking at the metal inside you. “This type of arrow does not do too much damage, but it has hooked onto an organ.” Although Leonardo’s voice was calm, you couldn’t help but writhe. You could feel everything the arrow (and Leonardo) touched, finally managing to begin drifting in and out of consciousness, after what felt like hours of pain.

You were too tired. 

You heard Leonardo bracing you for removing the arrow, but you were completely limp in Ezio and La Volpe’s grasp. You swallowed again, eyes rolling back. Your face scrunched weakly as you winced; the arrow finally relinquishing its position, too tired to scream and shout. Stifling a groan, you slightly jumped when the pressure of a fabric was being applied in place of Leonardo’s fingers. The last thing you heard before your vision blacked out was, “We’re not done yet.”

----------

There were three instances where you briefly came to since then. The first was as your wound was being bandaged. “What are his chances?” Ezio’s voice echoed in your ear.

“Of survival?” Your eyes barely opened for a second to lock with Leonardo’s. “Small.” Although his face was comforting, his words weren’t. All too quickly, you lost consciousness again. 

The second time, you could feel your body moving as you were taken off the table and onto something soft but sturdy. Your head rolled to the side and your eyes opened to see Leonardo washing his hands in a basin. “Con attenzione, ora!” You felt your arm fall off the side of the platform you were being moved on. The rocking lulled you back into darkness.

You didn’t remember these instances.

The third and final time you came to, you had a hard time opening your eyes. It felt as if they had been sealed shut. An involuntary hum grew in your throat as you brought your arm up to rub your eyes. Even that simple movement left you aching for reasons you couldn’t remember yet. You brought your hand away as you opened your eyes. Looking around, your brows furrowed.

This wasn’t your bed, or your room… 

Pushing yourself up, you stopped abruptly, lowering yourself back down and wincing as a searing pain spread across your side. Your hand immediately went to the source, where your fingers ran across rough fabric. Looking down, you saw that your chest was still bare, although half of your torso was covered in white bandages. Looking around, you found your robes hanging up against a wardrobe across the room, clean and repaired. Your boots were at the foot of the bed. 

Trying again, you slowly sat up again, pulling the sheet off of your legs. You bent down agonisingly slowly, one arm against your side while the other grabbed your footwear. After you pulled them both on, you began lacing them up. It was at that point when the door opened. 

Looking up, you saw Ezio staring at you, surprised. “Y/N, what are you doing?” 

“I’m getting up.”

“You should be resting.”

“I’ve rested enough. How many days has it been?”

Ezio didn’t reply at first.

“Ezio; how many days?”

“Five.”

“That’s more than enough.” 

You pushed yourself up to your feet, only for your knees to buckle and send you back down to the floor, the impact of which reverberated up to your side. You grasped the bedpost for support as your breath hitched. Footsteps approached your kneeling form, but you held your hand up to stop them. “I’m fine,” you spoke through gritted teeth. Hauling yourself back up again, you leaned heavily against the wall, your legs not used to walking after five days of disuse. 

“You don’t have to pretend.” Ezio respected your need for space for a few moments, but soon moved to pull your arm over his shoulders when he saw you begin to struggle. 

“... Can you take me downstairs, at least?”

He sighed, thinking out the pros and cons. “Fine. Come.” 

Tentatively, you tiptoed down the stairs, careful not to make any jarring movements. Ezio held you securely to prevent you from falling, should you do so again. The sounds of people eating, drinking, and enjoying themselves filled your ears, and your eyes landed on a table with La Volpe -- standing up with one knee propped up against the bench -- Leonardo, and a few other thieves (all sitting properly). They seemed to be in deep conversation, but as La Volpe looked up and moved his attention to you, everyone else followed his gaze, smiles poking at their lips.

“Y/N! You’re awake, and… moving.” Leonardo shot Ezio a disapproving look. 

“I asked him to take me here.” You motioned to sit down at the table, and Ezio helped to lower you to the bench. Steadying yourself against the table, you brought a hand up to your side as your wound twinged. 

“You’re just in time for me to change your dressings.” Leonardo got up to fetch new bandages as Ezio took his place beside you. 

La Volpe sat down properly. “Y/N, what happened?”

You recounted the story in detail as Leonardo worked on your side, slightly embarrassed at your inability to stay alert that night. “It was my mistake,” you finished, wincing as the bandages were pulled tight. “I should have stayed out of sight.” 

“He shouldn’t have even been there,” Ezio quipped, closing one hand over a fist. “We almost lost one of our best students.”

You smirked. “I’m flattered.” 

Leonardo coughed to hide his chuckle, sitting on the other side of you. “Here.” He passed you a loose shirt and a drink; you thanked him and slowly dressed, being careful not to stretch your side. Taking a sip turned into gulping down mouthfuls of the liquid, parched from not drinking for days.

“If he was one of your best students, then why did we almost lose him?” La Volpe was blunt, but he wasn’t wrong.

“Because that mission was not supposed to be for him!” 

“Remember who assigned him that mission, Ezio. Your anger is misplaced.” Ezio looked between the faces at the table, huffed, and got up, heading for the backroom. 

The atmosphere grew tense, and you decided to break the uncomfortable silence. “I’ll, uh, go and talk to him.” You got up slowly, holding your side, and followed where Ezio disappeared to. 

You peered around the corner to see him leaning on the table, his knuckles pressing into the bloodstained wood. After a few moments of standing still, he cursed himself under his breath, punching the table beneath his hand. He walked to the other side of the table, folding his arms and leaning against it as he fell deep into thought. 

You decided to knock against the wall, then. Ezio turned his head to see who it was, before smiling softly and staring back at the wall. You went to lean on the table beside him, staring at the chalkboard propped up against the barrels. “You’re blaming yourself, Ezio.” You called him out on it before he could say anything, prompting an amused scoff on his part. 

“I should have pulled you out of the contract.”

You looked at him, but he still stared at the wall, seemingly too ashamed to look at you. “Why? You didn’t know what was going to happen.”

“I knew it would challenge you, but I underestimated just how dangerous it would be.”

“You know Mario wouldn’t have accepted that.”

He sighed through his nose, eyes flicking down to his boots. “I should have tried.” 

“Look at me, Ezio.” His eyes moved to yours, but his head barely shifted. “I’m alive; I’m alright.”

“We’ll see.”

You squinted. “What do you mean?”

“Leonardo told me you have a bad case of idiozia, and he is not sure if it can be cured.”

You laughed, looking away. “No, me either.”

“I know something which could help, though.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting to see what he would say before a force came into contact with the back of your head. “Ow! Bastardo…” Ezio laughed. 

“Let’s rejoin the others.”

----------

Translations:

Mi amico = My friend

Personalmente = Personally

Ora, un altro? = Now, another?

Assassino! = Assassin!

La Volpe Addormentata = The Sleeping Fox

Sbrigatevi! = Hurry up!

Ora, aiutami con lui = Help me with him

Mio Dio = My God

Non posso = I can’t

Andiamo, ragazzo = Come, boy

Amico mio, mi dispiace tanto = My friend, I am so sorry

Con attenzione, ora = Carefully now!

Idiozia = Idiocy

Bastardo = Bastard

[marvelous-writer]

Responsible for Making Sure You’re Responsible

Summary: Peter knows he��s hurt badly enough that he can’t just slap a bunch of band-aids on his injuries, and especially the giant, still-oozing puncture wounds on his back and along his shoulders from the tips of Toomes’ wings. But it’s not like he can just stumble into an emergency room and ask to get stitched up. So where to go instead?

May would have a heart attack if she saw him right now, not to mention immediately figure out his secret. Ned would also definitely freak out, probably waking his parents in the process. Mr. Stark was an option, but Peter wasn’t about to bother him, not after how the man had made it crystal clear that he didn’t want anything to do with Peter ever again.

So no hospital, no May, no Ned, and no Mr. Stark just left… Happy. 

Or: following his final fight with the Vulture, Peter is left grievously injured and in need of some serious help. Cue Happy to the rescue.

Word count: 6,880

A/N: Me and @blondsak‘s first collab!!!

Link to read on AO3

Peter doesn’t know how he made it from the Coney Island Cyclone all the way to Avengers Tower. To be honest, the entire journey was a bit of a blur as his steadily bleeding injuries throbbed painfully in protest from all the web-slinging. 

When his feet hit the landing pad of the Tower, Peter distantly wonders why he had decided to come here, of all places. Even through his foggy brain, he knows he’s hurt badly enough that he couldn’t just slap a band-aid on the many deep cuts, burns and bruises littering his whole body, especially the giant puncture wounds on his back and along his shoulders from the tips of Toomes’ wings. But then again, it’s not like he could just stumble into an emergency room and ask to get stitched up. At least, not wearing his original Spider-Man costume, which - though basically rags now - was still far too easily identifiable beneath all the stains and grime. 

As for going home, that was definitely ruled out—May would have a heart attack if she saw him right now. Peter could maybe have chanced going to Ned’s, but Ned would have almost definitely freaked out at the sight of him, which would have led to his parents waking up and Peter losing any hope of his secret - not that it was still much of one anymore, but still, he had to try, didn’t he? - staying under wraps. So Ned’s place was out, too. Mr. Stark was another option, but Peter wasn’t about to bother him, not after how the man had made it crystal clear in the form of a forced walk of shame from Brooklyn to Queens - in Hello Kitty pajama pants, no less - that he didn’t want anything to do with Peter ever again. 

So no hospital, no May, no Ned, and no Mr. Stark just left… Happy. 

It’s definitely not ideal, but the fact remains that Happy’s his best bet right now, and Peter, well—Peter is pretty desperate. And the only place he knows Happy could be was back at the Tower, from where he assumes the man had been overseeing the move before the plane took off and Peter’s night went from  really, really bad to totally screwed.

With a deep, weary sigh Peter limps towards the glass doors, one hand pressed firmly against a shoulder in a futile effort to staunch the worst of the bleeding, surprised to find that the door is unlocked as he steps inside. He’s too out of it to notice that the once well-furnished living room is now completely empty. He passes by the kitchen, looking around at the vacant space. He doesn’t exactly know where he’s going to be honest. There’s a small tingling at the back of his head, the only warning he gets before an unfamiliar face comes around the corner from the hallway, a small squeak of surprise coming from the man - a security guard, by the looks of his uniform - at the sight of him. 

“Don’t come any closer! I’ll—I’ll shoot!” the guard cries out, though it comes out shaky, like he’s scared or maybe just inexperienced. All the same Peter doesn’t hesitate to put up his throbbing arms in temporary submission, biting back a groan from the pain. The shaking flashlight suddenly stills on Peter’s chest, the guard taking in the tattered remains of Peter’s homemade suit. His going wide as he exclaims, “Wait—you’re Spider-Man! What are you doing here?” Then, all shakiness gone and replaced with excitement, “Are you here on Avengers business?” 

“No, it’s n-nothing like that,” Peter weakly replies. “I actually need to talk to–”

“I heard that you were, like, an honorary Avenger now,” the guard interrupts, seemingly not noticing Peter’s injured state. “Is that true? I mean, I saw that on The Bugle’s Twitter page but I wasn’t sure if it was true. But I guess you did  fight with Iron Man against the Rogue Avengers, which was totally awesome by the way! That basically means you are then, right?”

Peter’s head is spinning from all of the questions, worsening his pounding headache. He closes his eyes beneath what’s left of his mask, gritting his teeth. 

The guard must take his silence as affirmation, continuing, “I knew it! My buddy Marv keeps saying there’s no way they’d add a low-level vigilante from Queens to their roster, but then he’s always been more of a Cap guy and anyway, he’s from Brooklyn so what does he–”

“S-sorry, but—where’s Happy Hogan?” Peter interrupts with as much force as he can. He’s starting to feel really lightheaded, and he can’t afford to let himself pass out in front of an overexcited Spider-Man fan, and especially one who was obsessed enough to believe any Spider-Man news that came from The Bugle—a news site that Peter knows for a  fact  offers a substantial reward for any proof of Spider-Man’s identity. “L-look, I need to speak to Happy right now. It’s a-an emergency.”

“Uh, okay, sure,” the guard replies after a moment, looking slightly put out even as he pulls out his cell phone and starts swiping through it, putting it up to his ear as he continues to eye Peter curiously. Normally Peter would have no issue hearing the ringing and Happy picking up, but he’s just so tired. Instead finds himself zoning out even as the guard starts rambling to the other person about Spider-Man showing up, until–

Peter startles when someone pokes him in the arm, looking up to see the guard is now standing right in front of him, holding out his phone. “He says he wants to talk to you.”

Trying to blink the exhaustion out of his eyes, Peter nods and takes the device. “Hey, Happy.”

“Kid,” Happy replies with a sigh, the relief in his tone something Peter’s never heard from him before. “You have no idea how glad I am that you’re okay.”

“Me too,” Peter agrees without thinking, then blinking slowly again, “but uh, about that–”

“Look, this line isn’t exactly secure,” Happy interrupts, and now Peter hears voices shouting in the background, along with what sounds like large trucks rumbling, “and neither is the tower anymore, for that matter. How about you head to my place? We’re just about finished getting the tech loaded and off the beach.”

“Oh, um, okay,” Peter replies numbly, the fog in his brain clearing just enough for him to memorize Happy’s address—relieved when he realizes it’s still in Manhattan, and in the Upper East Side at that. Happy doesn’t really come across as a glitzy kind of guy, but Peter supposes it makes sense that Mr. Stark would pay him very well, considering his job title and all.

“...still there, kid? You get that?”

“Wha’?” Peter asks dumbly, pulled out of a second daze in as many minutes. Man, he really needs to focus if he wants to make it to Happy’s in one piece. “Oh y-yeah, yeah. I’ll meet you there, Happy.”

There’s a pause then, as if Happy is mulling something over. But whatever it is he must let it go, saying instead, “I’ll see you there. And no dawdling at the churro stand, you hear me?” 

The line clicks before Peter can reply. Wearily he drops the phone from his ear, passing it back to the guard. “Thanks.”

Not wanting to invite further conversation, he immediately starts limping back toward the landing pad—only to come to a halt when the guard calls after him.

With a sigh Peter turns around, “Yeah?”

But where he expected the guard to bombard him with more questions, or maybe ask him for an autograph, the man looks only worried now. “Just wanted to check, uh—you sure you’re gonna be okay? ‘Cause to be honest, you don’t look too good.”

Peter smiles behind the torn mask, feeling a tiny bit of warmth spark in his chest at the man’s concern. It’s almost enough to overtake the cold that’s already seeped into him—Peter suppressing a shudder as the two war for dominance.

“Thanks, b-but, I’ll be okay.” 

“If you say so,” the guard says after a few moments, clearly not buying it. But he doesn’t say anything else and after a pause Peter turns away again, stumbling over to the doors and back outside. The chill of the night air seems to sink right into his bones, and this time Peter can’t stop the whole-body shiver that wracks him.

“Okay, you j-just gotta make it to Happy’s and then he’ll s-stitch you up and you’ll be f-fine,” he says to himself—taking a deep breath as he tries to shore up enough strength for the trip. “C’mon Spider-Man. Just this one l-last thing and then you can rest.”

With those words of self-encouragement Peter sends a web out and jumps over the edge, falling and falling only to shoot out another web and clumsily catch himself—ignoring the deep stabbing pain as his bodyweight pulls on the injured shoulder, feeling another burst of warmth flow down his back. 

Gritting his teeth, Peter takes aim for the Upper East Side, willing away the tendrils of darkness that keep pulling at his mind as he flies through the air, focusing on nothing else but getting to Happy’s place and continuing to talk to himself just to stay awake. 

“You got th-this, Spider-Man. Just get to Happy’s and th-then you can s-sleep,” he whispers just as Happy’s building comes into view. 

With no small amount of giddy relief he lands on the small balcony and wrenches open the sliding glass door. 

“S-s-see Happy? No d-dawdling,” he announces with a lazy smile, only to belatedly realize the place is still dark. Distantly his mind registers that he must have beat Happy here.

For a few moments Peter sways, before he hears a dripping sound. 

“Wha’s l-leakin’?” he asks the empty room. He glances down when he hears yet another drip, blinking dumbly when he sees it’s coming from him. 

His blood, landing onto what has to be super-expensive carpet. Shit! 

“Ohhh no,” Peter whispers, looking around in a panicked daze. Everything is starting to go blurry now and no—he can’t pass out here! Happy already barely tolerates him… what will he say if he comes back to find Peter ruined his floor?

“Think, Peter, think,”  he says to himself, before stumbling through the apartment toward the hallway—cursing when he trips over the edge of the coffee table, knocking over a plant on his way down. For a second he just breathes as he lies on the floor, eyes closing as he nearly gives in to the exhaustion… only to grit his teeth and stumble back onto his feet.

He leans heavily against the hallway wall for support as he staggers toward the bathroom. 

“M-made it,” he whispers as he crosses the threshold. He clutches at whatever is within reach as he hauls himself across the tiled floor, spots gathering in his vision. But by some miracle he eventually manages to collapse over the edge of the tub, curling up against the far corner of the porcelain. 

With a sigh of relief Peter finally allows his eyes to close and stay closed, telling himself that he’s safe now. After all, Happy is on his way, and he’ll handle everything for Peter, just like he does for Mr. Stark, right?

Right,  Peter thinks. 

It’s the last thought he has for a while.

_______________________________________________________________

“Come on! It’s a frickin’ yield sign!” Happy yells as he blares his horn at the car in front of him. He’s been stuck at this intersection for over seven minutes now, chipping away at what little patience he has left now that he’s back in Manhattan, yet still too far from Peter.

Because frankly, it’s a miracle the kid is even alive after a crash like that. The minutes after he’d first seen the scrawled note - during which he’d frantically searched the wreckage for a matching teenaged vigilante to go with the copious bloodstains strewn about the sand - will forever haunt Happy, especially knowing that Peter had been on the downed plane.

And while at first he’d been relieved to hear that Spider-Man was at the tower and looking for him, when he’d heard how out of it the kid sounded on the phone… well, let’s just say it had reminded him far too much of a different reckless superhero he knew, albeit back in the man’s less sober days. 

But where back then he’d been saving Tony from choking on his own vomit, tonight had raised red flags in Happy’s mind for other reasons. Because Peter wasn’t drunk or high, no—he was injured, badly enough that he was spacing out and slurring his words.

Happy can only hope it’s just a minor concussion, and not something worse. Because if anything happened to that kid, he would never forgive himself for it, and not only because Tony would have his head. Peter’s aunt was at home waiting for him, probably wondering where the hell he is at twelve-thirty in the morning on a Saturday night. 

He recalls then what he’d told the kid not a week earlier, when Peter had called while he’d been busy and distracted preparing for Moving Day: "Stay away from anything dangerous. I'm responsible for making sure you're responsible, okay?" 

Happy chews on the inside of his cheek, feeling another cry of worry-induced—and if he’s honest, guilt-induced—road rage rise up in his throat, only to force himself to swallow it back down. 

He’s not going to let himself lose it, not yet. Because Peter has to be okay. He has to be, because Happy doesn’t know how he’ll live with himself if he isn’t. 

It takes him twenty minutes before he arrives at his apartment building, not stopping to talk to his doorman as he quickly gets into the elevator. 

“Come on, come on…” Happy mumbles to himself as he impatiently punches at his floor’s button as the polished elevator doors slide shut in front of him. 

He all but runs out when the doors slide open on his floor—only to nearly crash into his next door neighbor Ms. Devine and her yappy shih-tzu, Mr. Fluffers.

“Sorry, Ellie,” Happy hastily apologizes, then when Mr. Fluffers growls at him, adds in a faux-casual voice, “Taking the dog for a late night walk?”

“Fluffy here runs on his own schedule,” the older woman responds kindly enough, only to narrow her eyes as if sniffing out a chance for gossip fodder. “And what has you hurrying home in such a rush after midnight?”

Making sure Spider-Man isn’t bleeding to death in my apartment. “Just checking that I didn’t leave my oven on.”

Ms. Devine continues to stare suspiciously for a few moments, before smiling tiredly and saying, “I’ve done that before.” 

“Haven’t we all,” Happy says with a polite smile as he walks around her, reaching in his pocket for his keys. “Have a good evening,” he adds rather dismissively, not looking back at what he is sure is a disapproving glare.

He waits until she turns the corner before racing down the rest of the hallway. Happy stops at his door, hands shaking as he fumbles to slide the key into the lock on the knob, scared of what he’ll find inside. He braces himself as he steps into the dark entryway, shutting the door behind him—careful to lock the deadbolt just in case Ms. Devine gets any ideas and decides to make an impromptu housecall. 

“Peter?” he calls out as he walks further in, feeling around the wall for the light switch, his hand meeting something wet. He finds the switch and the lights come on—only to gasp at the sight just mere feet away from his face. All along the light grey wall of his living room and turning down the hallway are long, broken, halting finger trails of red. With growing horror, Happy realizes it can only be one thing— blood.

Fear shoots through Happy as he turns away from the blood-smeared wall, finding a trail of red droplets along with a plant lying on its side on the floor—its dirt burrowing into the carpet and mixing with more blood stains, as though whoever knocked it over had landed in the mess and only barely managed to get back on their feet.

“Oh shit,” Happy breathes out as he follows the bloodied dirt trail, leading to the bathroom down the hall, finding the door open with the lights on. “Peter?” he frantically calls out.

Stepping a foot inside, it looks like something straight out of a horror movie. There’s smears of blood across the floor, as well as a handprint on the edge of the sink. Happy’s eyes scan over the scene before they settle on the blue and red— too much red —covered figure lying in the tub. 

“Oh my God,” Happy exclaims as he rushes forward and bends over the edge, hands hovering over Peter’s all-too-still form. Shit shit shit!!! 

“Kid? Peter?” Happy calls as he shakes the kid’s shoulder, gently at first and then more forcefully—closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in relief when the kid lets out a weak, pained groan.

“H’py? S’ you?” Peter mumbles, lifting his head, the goggles of his ridiculous homemade mask squinting in the lighting. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Happy says with no small amount of relief. Placing his hands under the kid’s armpits, he helps Peter’s slumping form straighten a little bit, alarm growing when he spots a pool of blood beneath the kid’s form, standing out against the pristine white tub floor. Happy reaches up and carefully peels off the torn remnants of the mask, revealing Peter’s pale and dazed face. His curls are slightly damp and sticking to his sweaty forehead. Unsure what to ask first, Happy blurts out, “What are you doing in the bathtub?”

Peter blinks slowly. “May says tomato sauce is… is hard t’ get out…” 

Happy brows pull together in confusion. “Tomato sauce? Kid—what are you talking about? You’re bleeding.”

Peter nods slowly, his chin dropping to his chest as he blinks with half-lidded eyes. “S’ what I said…” he mumbles, his eyes closing further. 

“Hey, hey, hey—no falling asleep on me. I have to make sure you don’t have a concussion or anything,” Happy tells him sternly. 

“But m’ tired,” Peter mumbles, words slurring together slightly. 

“I know, and you can sleep soon. Let’s just get you out of the tub and cleaned up first, okay?” 

“M’kay,” Peter mumbles, blinking sluggishly. 

Happy helps him out of the tub, practically carrying him with how wobbly the kid’s legs are, and sits him down on the closed toilet seat. “Do you promise to stay upright if I let you go?”

Peter gives the tiniest of nods, before slowly slumping sideways until his head and the ball of his shoulder hit the tiled wall. Happy waits until he feels confident Peter is safely propped before nodding back, patting him gently on the arm and leaving the bathroom. He practically runs into the kitchen, grabbing two pills of prescription strength ibuprofen and filling a glass of water heading back the way he came. 

“Here kid, take these,” he says, depositing the pills in Peter’s open palm and then holding the glass for him after he puts them in his mouth, helping the kid take a sip to get them down, then a few long gulps to quench his thirst. Satisfied, Happy sets down the glass and moves to the cabinet under the sink, pulling out his heavy-duty first aid kit. 

For as much as he had ignored the kid the past few months—and he’d be beating himself up about that for a good long while after this, no doubt—Happy had taken one aspect of his reluctant side gig of Spider-Man’s Keeper very seriously from the get-go, and that was preparing for a night just like this. One where Peter would call because he was injured and needed help getting patched up, and Happy would grumble but give him his address and tell him to swing over. 

As such, he had promptly taken his SI company credit card details and ordered an expensive, industrial-sized first aid kit to keep at home. He had hoped he wouldn’t ever have to use it, of course. But for now, he just finds he’s glad he had the foresight to plan for such a scenario—knowing that if he hadn’t, they’d be in a lot more trouble right now than they already are. 

“M’ really sorry, H’ppy,” Peter whispers as he watches Happy unclasp the kit and start pulling out supplies, carefully laying them out on the bathroom counter. Happy glances over at him, relieved to see the kid seems more coherent now that he’s both hydrated and medicated. “I didn’t... didn’t know where to go, and m-May would freak out—” 

“Kid, it's okay. I’m glad you’re here and not bleeding out in some alley,” Happy interjects as he grabs some face cloths from the small bathroom linen closet. Finally, with everything set up on the counter within easy reach, Happy turns back to Peter.. “Let’s get you out of that hoodie so I can see how bad it is.” 

Getting the top part of the kid’s homemade costume off of him is a bit of a struggle, but Happy takes it slow as Peter struggles to lift his arms above his head, parts of the fabric sticking to his skin with dried blood. Once it’s off, Happy’s stomach drops at the sight of the dark bruises blooming across the kid’s torso, as well as the cuts and deep puncture marks on his left shoulder. Just from being at the crash sight he knew it had been one hell of a fight, but seeing the consequences in the form of the actual wounds littering Peter’s young body brings it home in an entirely different way. 

“Happy?” Peter’s voice takes him out of his thoughts, looking up to see a puzzled look on the kid’s overly pale face. 

“Yeah,” Happy nods, blinking a few times and forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He turns the faucet on, rolling up his shirt sleeves and washing his hands and forearms thoroughly before running the face cloths under warm water, wringing them out. “This might sting a little,” he warns as he kneels down in front of Peter, bringing a cloth down to one of the sluggishly bleeding cuts, earning a pained groan.

After a few minutes, Happy’s managed to clean and bandage the cuts. The two puncture wounds on the kid’s back were shallow enough that they only needed to be cleaned and bandaged, but the two on his chest just below his clavicles would both need a couple of stitches. The only problem being that said kid is half-asleep and fading fast right in front of him. 

“I’m gonna have to stitch these chest wounds up, alright? Think you can hold on for a few more minutes?” Happy asks. 

Peter blinks heavily a few times, clearly struggling to keep his eyes open. “Yeah.” 

“Okay,” Happy says as he reaches up for the first aid kit from the sink countertop, grabbing the suture packet inside. He wipes away the blood and disinfects the left-side wound first—being the more serious of the two—before taking out the pre-threaded needle from the package. “Ready?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Peter replies with a shaky nod, cautiously eyeing the needle before closing his eyes as if bracing himself.

“Try not to squirm too much, kid,” Happy says before getting to work. To his surprise, besides a slight flinch with every pull of the thread Peter remains obediently still, and Happy wonders if he’s had to do this himself a time or two—feeling a pang of distress at the idea of the kid alone in his bathroom with nothing but his aunt’s sewing kit for supplies, biting down on a washcloth to muffle any noises of pain as he shakingly attends to all manner of jagged cuts and wounds.

He wants to think he’s just being dramatic imagining such a thing, but still he refuses to ask Peter—deciding not knowing is better than having his suspicions confirmed. As it is, the kid stays completely stoic even as Happy finishes stitching up the left wound and moves on to the right, being sure to be careful and thorough but still going as fast he can—knowing the kid is operating on his last reserves. 

“Alright, your torso is good to go,” he says as he finishes pressing a bandage over the second line of stitches, looking back up at Peter. “I need you to tell me the truth now. Do you have any other wounds that need seeing to? Because this isn’t the time for modesty if you do.”

Peter blinks slowly, before looking down at his legs. Happy watches in patient silence as the kid seems to take stock of himself—taking the chance to give a cursory once-over of the kid’s sweats. He personally doesn’t see any stains that seem to indicate more than shallow cuts, and is relieved when the kid looks back up only to shake his head.

“I think ‘m okay now,” the kid says, voice weak but tone honest enough that Happy believes him. 

“Alright,” Happy says simply, getting back to his feet—ignoring the way his knees crack and protest at the movement. “I’ll be right back. Try to drink more water if you can. No passing out while I’m gone.”

Peter doesn’t reply but also doesn’t slump any further, which Happy takes as acknowledgement enough before he swiftly moves back into the hallway, heading for his bedroom. He grabs one of his old Stillman’s Gym t-shirts and a pair of drawstring sweatpants that no longer fit him before going back to the bathroom—heartened to see the kid is still awake, albeit barely.

“Lift your arms,” he orders, watching as Peter does so as much as his injuries will allow before pulling the t-shirt over the kid’s head and getting his arms through the holes. “Think you can stand up and get those ruined pants off?” he asks next, Peter taking a deep breath before nodding determinedly. Happy can’t help but hover as he watches the kid stumble to his feet, using one arm to lean against the wall for support as with the other he fumbles with his waistband. Happy pointedly doesn’t watch, just leans over and stares at where the torn sweats are pooled at the kid’s feet as holds open the clean pair of sweatpants so Peter can step into them, lifting them up to the kid’s knees and letting go as soon as Peter has a good enough grip to pull them up the rest of the way himself.

Leaning back up, Happy does one last visual assessment to make sure he’s not missing any hidden injuries. Satisfied, he carefully wraps an arm around the kid’s uninjured lower back, leading him out the bathroom door and down the hallway.

It’s a testament to how absolutely exhausted Peter must be that he doesn’t ask any questions as Happy guides him into the guest bedroom, pulling back the covers and helping him settle in beneath the sheets.

“Th’ks, Hap,” Peter mumbles, eyes closing. He’s out almost immediately. Happy shakes his head as he watches the kid for a few more moments, making sure that his breaths are deep and even and pressing two fingers to the kid’s neck, double-checking his pulse. But everything seems to be fine, and Happy lets out a long sigh, giving himself just a few seconds to collect his thoughts as he tiredly rubs a hand over his face.

Tonight was close—way, way too close. And besides that sociopath Toomes, the blame for it rests squarely on exactly two people’s shoulders—neither of which are Peter. 

With that thought in mind, Happy gives the kid one last look before walking to the door. He closes it most of the way but leaves it just open enough so that he can peek in later, making a mental note to leave Peter a glass of water and some more pills for when he wakes up. 

He silently makes his way back into the living room—pointedly not looking at the dried blood streaked across the walls and staining the carpet—and pulls out his cellphone. 

He’s not too surprised to see he has a dozen missed calls from just the last hour, most of them from his team with the exception of one from Pepper and two from Tony. He debates calling Pepper back first—having no doubt she needs some answers about exactly how everything went to shit tonight so they can start getting ahead of the morning news cycle—but in the end selects Tony’s name. He finds himself mildly stunned when the man picks up on the first ring.

“Hap?”

“It’s me, boss.”

“Good. Listen, Fri’s been keeping me updated on the crash and apparently there’s evidence the kid was there but ran off, is that–”

“Don’t worry, I found him,” Happy says with a sigh. “He’s injured but he’ll survive.”

“Thank god,” Tony replies, and the sheer relief in his voice is enough that Happy is left surprised by him for the second time in under a minute. Tony wasn’t usually so transparently sincere when it came to those outside his inner circle, but his genuine concern for Peter couldn’t be more clear. Happy can’t help but wonder when that development happened, though—on second thought—he supposes he’s not all that shocked it did. The kid can be annoyingly endearing.

“That said, you’re gonna have to call May Parker and come up with a whopper of a good story,” Happy continues, “‘cause I sure as hell ain’t taking him back to Queens yet, what with the shape he’s in.”

“Sure, sure, I’ll figure out something.” A pause. “How bad is it? And where are you two? Does he need–”

“He went to the tower looking for me, after. One of the guards rang, and I told him to meet me at my place,” Happy explains. “Kid took some serious licks during the fight with Toomes but I managed to get him patched up. He’s sleeping now.”

“Good, that’s good.”

And now they’re at the part of the conversation that Happy would rather not deal with. But it’s no longer something he can afford to avoid, not after stitching up the passed out child down the hall. Because Peter is just a child—only  fifteen, for Christ’s sake. Happy swipes a hand over his face again, shaking his head—hating that he ever let himself forget that.

“Listen, bo—Tony,” he begins, “you know I’m not one to actually speak my mind too often, but this was… Look. I don’t know much but I do know that kid needs his suit back, and probably a whole hell of a lot more from you—from  both of us—from now on. Because this? This was an absolute shitshow as it was, and if he hadn’t been okay, I don’t know if—”

“You don’t have to tell me how bad I fucked up, Hap, I'm well aware,” Tony interjects, but there’s no anger in his tone, just weariness. “And just so we’re clear, this isn’t gonna happen again—I’ve already got a plan. As soon as the kid’s healed up he’s coming out to the compound. I’ve decided to make him a full team member—got a new nanosuit ready for him and everything.”

Happy frowns. He’s not sure making Peter an Avenger is any better for his safety than taking his suit away was. But then, if there’s one thing Happy tries to keep out of, it’s all the team drama and politics that Tony seems to constantly be dealing with. As long as the kid’s identity is safe, he supposes it might not be a bad idea—if Peter even wants it, that is.

“Just make sure you let him know it’s a choice and not a demand, boss.”

“Of course I’ll make sure he knows that,” Tony says irritably, but Happy knows him well enough to recognize that he’s only annoyed because he understands  exactly why Happy felt the need to say as much. After all, taking the kid to Germany, making Happy his main contact, keeping him out of the loop with the Toomes investigation, taking away the suit… Tony hadn’t given Peter much choice in anything up to now. 

Happy thinks about pressing the point, but decides it’s not worth it. Him and Tony might not be on the exact same page but they’re at least reading the same book, and that’ll have to do for now. In any case, Happy doesn’t intend to go anywhere, so if the time comes to set Tony straight again where the kid is concerned—he’ll be there then, too.

“Alright, well, if that’s everything for now I think I’m gonna try to catch a few winks while the kid is out,” Happy says. “He should be recovered enough to go home tomorrow, so you can tell his aunt to expect him then.”

“Got it, and yeah, I should hit the hay soon too,” Tony replies with a long sigh.  “Get myself ready for the PR storm that’s no doubt already brewing.”

Silence again, and Happy thinks about apologizing for what happened—knowing all too well that if he’d just listened to Peter’s friend when the kid popped up on his screen, this whole mess might have been mostly prevented. But he clenches his jaw instead. He has things to apologize for, certainly—but it’s not Tony who needs to hear them.

“Tell Peter I'll be in touch soon,” Tony continues when Happy doesn't respond.  “And Hap? Thank you.”

Happy pauses, uncertain exactly which thing in particular he's being thanked for. It could be for looking after the kid, or for saying his piece just now, or simply general gratitude for all the years he's faithfully had Tony’s back. He supposes it doesn't matter which one it is though, not really. The reply is the same. 

“No problem, boss.”

With a small smile, he hangs up. 

In a span of an hour, Happy’s managed to scrub every last drop of blood from the floors, walls and the bathroom. The last thing he wanted was for the kid to wake up and see the mess in the morning. He also threw the tattered remains of his suit in the washing machine and then into the dryer—one less thing for Peter to worry about. 

Tossing the bloody used paper towels in a plastic bag, Happy disposes of it in the kitchen trash can, leaving it hopefully out of sight and out of mind. 

If only the sight of an unconscious and injured Peter in his bathtub could be as easily forgotten.

Casting his guilt aside for now, he grabs a glass from the cabinet and fills it up halfway, along with a few ibuprofen in a plastic Dixie cup. Turning off all the lights, Happy heads back down the hallway to the guest bedroom. 

He quietly pushes the door open with his foot and walks over to the bed, placing the water and pills on the nightstand within easy reach. Happy’s eyes fall on the kid, who is passed out, his mouth hanging open slightly. Another small smile finds its way to his face as an odd feeling spreads through his chest at the sight. Before he can talk himself out of it, Happy reaches a hand out, placing his palm on the kid’s forehead. He tells himself it's to check for signs of fever, but if it's also to physically reassure himself the kid is going to be okay, well, nobody’s gonna know anyway. 

“You’re gonna make my hair turn grey before its time, kid,” he whispers, receiving a soft sleep-sigh in return when he drops his hand. “And that’s only if Tony doesn’t manage it first.”

With a fond shake of his head, Happy makes his way out of the room, sparing one last glance at the sleeping teen before closing the door behind himself, leaving it open a crack once again. He heads to his room, choosing to leave his door open as well so he can hear should Peter wake up and need him. Going through his nightly bedtime ritual, his mind races with everything on his agenda for tomorrow—dealing with Damage Control’s rather displeased (to put it mildly) reaction to the plane crash and the almost-stolen tech, the inevitable PR nightmare, and finally, scheduling security detail for Pepper as she makes the rounds of meetings she'll undoubtedly have handling her end of all the former.

But right now, those things don’t seem as important. The important thing is the injured fifteen year old sleeping in his guest bedroom. The very one who he was supposed to be watching out for, and who he completely and utterly let down. 

As he lays down in bed and turns off his lamp, Happy vows to himself to be better from now on. Better at being there for Peter, even if that involves the kid talking his ears off with stories about school, his adventures patrolling Queens or all the annoying pop culture references he can't seem to stop making. From seeing everything Tony’s been through he knows the superhero business can be a lonely one, and Happy doesn’t want that for Peter. The kid should know he has more than just his teenage buddy in his corner. Which is why as soon as he can tomorrow, he is going to tell Peter exactly that. 

With that last thought in mind, Happy closes his eyes, soon drifting off. 

________________________________________________________________

It’s close to seven-thirty in the morning and Happy is sitting at the center island in the kitchen, all dressed and ready for the day, sipping from a mug of coffee. Despite it being Saturday, he still has a lot of work to do, starting with driving Peter home. 

He’d better get the kid up now so he has a chance to wake up a little and eat something before he goes home and faces the music with his aunt—Happy shooting off a quick text to Tony asking what cover story he gave Mrs. Parker so he can make sure their stories line up. And once he’s got that taken care of with the kid, Happy can apologize to him for the dismissiveness he’s shown over the past few months and explain how things are going to be different from now on. 

First though, he needs to get Peter’s suit out of the dryer. But when Happy goes to grab it, he finds the machine empty. Confused, he heads back down the hall, stopping outside the guest room and knocking softly. “Peter?” 

He’s met with silence on the other end. Happy’s brows pull together as worry pools in his gut. “Kid? I’m coming in.” 

But when he opens the door, he finds it to also be empty—the bed neatly made. Happy walks further into the room, seeing that the window is slightly ajar, the curtains gently blowing in the wind. 

“So much for that talk,” Happy mutters to himself with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. He can only hope the kid doesn't blow his cover with his aunt. Should Peter reveal everything, he has no doubt his phone—being the only connection the kid has at the moment to reach Tony—will be blowing up with calls and texts from an understandably irate May Parker. While Happy is personally of the mind that she deserves to know the truth, he’d rather not deal with putting out that particular fire on top of everything else on his plate today.

He’s about to walk out of the room, but something on the nightstand catches his eye. Happy goes over and picks up a small folded piece of paper, finding neat handwriting inside. 

  Dear Happy, 

Thanks for helping me last night and letting me stay over. I would have let you know I was leaving but you were sleeping and after how late I made you stay up, I didn't want to bother you.

Also, don't be mad but I thought you should know that you snore REALLY loud. I'm no doctor but you might want to get that checked out.

Sincerely,

Peter Parker

 “That little shit,” Happy murmurs, reading over the part about his snoring again with no small amount of disgruntlement. Yet all the same he makes a mental note to call his doctor later in the day and make an appointment.

After all, he might have missed out for the time being on the big talk he had planned. But actually paying attention and taking Peter more seriously? Letting him know in every way he can that he’s listening, that the kid can trust that he’ll be there if he needs him?

Taking responsibility for all that begins right now.

[karoiseka]

#15 Ache

((Dialogue in the first part is snagged directly for the most part from the game, but the rest tis mine own.  Pretty much just a re-hash of emotions and extra tid-bits of lore of what Karo was doing with all of this.  This got a little more away from me that I thought, but I’m happy with it. ^_^  Obviously, MAJOR 5.3 spoilers!!!))

“I concede, I may have over-exerted myself,” G’raha gasped a little from the Tower’s floor where he had fallen after defeating Elidibus.  Karo’s heart was racing--not only from the battle she had just finished, the adrenaline singing in her veins, but from the final goodbye of her--well, whatever Elidibus was to her now.  Now, the one that held her heart was transforming before her very eyes into a part of the very Tower that was so instrumental to them both.

“Steady now, and listen.  I told you before that I had a plan, and that when all was said and done, I would ask a favor of you.”  The Bard maneuvered herself beside him, sitting him up and holding his now both crystal hands in her own that desperately were clutching the spirit vessel.  “We have averted the Eight Umbral Calamity.  Found a way for everyone to return to the Source, and… last but not least, we have secured the future of all the people of Norvrandt.  We have won, my love.”  He was squeezing her hands gently, eyes shining, even when gasping for breath as she could watch the crystal creeping over his body slowly.  He reached up to run his fingers gently down her cheek, cupping her face and leaning against her forehead.

“So I hope you’ll forgive me this moment of selfishness.  And… while I wouldn’t want you to feel obliged…” Karo snorted and cut him off with a kiss before letting him continue.  He smiled against her lips and continued on, “Promise me you’ll take me on your next adventure.  A journey.  Together.  That’s all I ask.”  Karo’s voice caught in her throat as tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

“Raha--” her voice cracked as she took a deep breath.  “Of course--you know that’s all I’ve wanted as well,”  nuzzling his ears he sighed contentedly as she continued to try and hold back all the emotion she was feeling.

“If I were to tell you that this isn’t the end--that we will meet again--would you believe me?”  His voice was soft, but insistent and confident that he spoke true despite what was in front of their eyes.

“I have to--” whispered almost too soft for him to hear, she nevertheless looked him in the eyes and nodded her agreement.

“Thank you.”  He nodded once as well and released his hold of his shining star to pull his hood up one last time--though thankfully not hiding his face away from her.  She scowled at the look, but stepped back to let him get to his feet, somehow knowing this was something he needed to do for himself.  His spirit vessel, the brilliant red portion already glowing clutched in her hand, she watched and listened as he found a spot to stand.  He knew this was it as the crystal crept up even further along him--robe and all.

“My love.  With you, my mind and memories shall travel to the ends of the world and beyond.  But in this place shall my body stand immovable.  May it serve as an undying promise, not only to those who looked to me for leadership, but to any soul who has known despair, that hope is everlasting.”   G’raha Tia planted his staff firmly, Xande’s throne towering behind him.  One last time, Karo threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, cupping the back of his head as they shared what they knew was one last moment here on the First.  Stepping back finally she took a deep breath and held out the spirit vessel.  It was time.  As she looked down it started to glow, burning from the inside with an intense light and Aether she could practically feel.  Sapphire eyes raced up to meet his ruby--now glossy as the husk smiled blankly as the crystal finally overtook him.

Her own feet planted barely two fulms from his own, she curled her entire upper body around the warm spirit vessel, holding it to her heart.  It pulsed warmly against her as she took gulping breaths, trying to come to terms at least enough to step away.  Not much longer, she could hear the frantic footfalls of her found family and shouts of her and G’raha’s names echoing from the doorway to the tower.  The scions skidded to a stop behind her as they saw the Crystal Exarch--now the truest description of his name with the Warrior of Light and Darkness still at vigil in front of him.  Thancred was the first of the Scions to let go of his shock, and went to Karoiseka, wrapping himself around her from behind.  He could finally see the spirit vessel glowing in her grasp from his vantage and a deep sigh of relief escaped his lips.

“We’ve got you kitten--and you’ve got him.”  Karo finally spun around and let her tears fall as she let Thancred hold her up as she sobbed into his jacket.  Her heart ached, but she had to keep hope--that hope that he gave her that she cradled so carefully.

-------------------------------------------------------K

The bright stars of Amh Araeng beat down on Karo’s head.  She had finished visiting with Alisaie and Haldric, and had hurried down to Nabaath Areng before Thancred and Ryne got there.  She wanted to allow them their own time, but also had wanted to share the site of her last conversation with Mifillia with G’raha.  Scouting from above  she didn’t see the pair so she landed her borrowed Amaro in the shade of the flood.  Alisaie had a good idea of giving Raha a last tour of the First--maybe take him to a place or two he hadn’t been before.  He had always expressed interest in seeing the frozen wall of the flood up close, the sparkling wall looking almost like ice above the desert.

“Haldric is getting better,” Karo narrated to the crystal in her hand as she walked the platform where she had said goodbye.  “The empty is not quite as empty, and people are feeling the joy of the night’s sky.  Your hope is contagious even out here, m’love.”  Kneeling at the center of the circle she said a prayer--for those they had lost and for those they could yet save.  A smile danced across her lips as the wind whipped around her in a warm embrace, skittering off across the dunes.  Time to take to the sky once more and head to Eulmore where Alphinaud was certain to be getting a teary goodbye.  

-------------------------------------------------------K

Having said her own goodbyes to the Chai family and promised to see Alphy back in the Crystarium, she looked out onto the water from the cliff high above the city.  It wasn’t far from the place she had found G’raha napping before storming Mt. Gulg and talked about the adventure that she was now starting with him.

“It’s a shame you came here really only to berate Vauthry.  The city isn’t too bad now that they’re working on turning things around,”  The sky was clear and Karo realized she was scanning the horizon for Ardbert’s home island.  She could feel him laugh at her, knowing that it was well out of eye site range, yet tinged with a feeling of affection for thinking of him nonetheless.  Turning, pretending to be miffed at her Warrior soul, she continued to chat with Raha.  “You talked about riding the Eternal Wind here on this very cliff, and soon we shall fly across them back home.  Then the true adventure will start,” her blue-black hair was being whipped by the wind making her crystal hair tassels chime as she clung to that hope as her soul pulsed in an embrace lending her strength to carry on.  Beneath the waves she knew she had to dive before going to find Uriangier in the home of the pixies.

-------------------------------------------------------K

Waves crashing high above her head was the only sound in the depths besides her own footsteps echoing in Amaurot’s halls.  Occasionally she’d see one of his shades gliding on to one purpose or another, but she let the star-lit trees and arches light a random path as she wove the streets aimlessly.

“You didn’t get to see much of the city, did you?” rhetorical as the question was, she knew that Emet--Hades--had kept his prize locked up away from where she could have stumbled across him before she turned into the Lightwarden he thought she would.  It had been a near thing looking back, nearer than she liked admitting.  Phantom hand on her shoulder, she could feel Ardbert’s solidarity with her.  I told you I cast my lot with yours.  We’re a team, hero- the whispered voice in her soul made her smile as she held Raha’s vessel to her heart once more.  “We saved you though, Raha, and you saved me in return.  I’ll paint a picture as vivid as can be when I spin this song for you, the one I have yet to write to remember than they once lived.  We all have to remember....” and hope continued to blossom in her heart.

-------------------------------------------------------K

Flowers waltzed around the wide meadows of Il Mheg and Karo walked up the pathway to the castle.  She had the sense to know whatever it was her Elezan friend had to say, that she probably wasn’t going to be in the mood for sight-seeing after.  Instead she decided to visit her Branch and let her say goodbye to G’raha as well.  The gigantic glowing wings of the castle sparkled in the sun and the stained glass windows glowed from within even in the middle of the day.  The city below was so clear under the water it was hard to remember that it wasn’t occupied by more than fish and Fuath.  

“Thank you for introducing me to Fe Ul,” a smile broke out thinking of how innocent that first meeting was in the markets of the Crystarium.  “As much as I kept forgetting to call on them, they always had a knack of getting me out of some of the worst trouble here,” Karo’s thoughts went back to the watchtower and the suggestion to learn more of the Crystal Exarch from the people he led. “Gonna have to try and keep this quick before Uri wonders where we are.”  With a theatrical spin and hope in her voice she shouted out to her Branch calling on them once more.

-------------------------------------------------------K

She had been right to do their goodbyes in Il Mheg before talking to Uriangier and Seto.  In a daze of overwhelmed emotions she had wandered into Slitherbough, and like the magic she wielded, Y’shtola renewed her energy with her antics with Runar..  Wishing the Hrothgar good luck, Karo wandered to the swamps edge before diving in again.  The ruins at the bottom of the lake were a good distraction for her historian, and she slowly pointed them out and their meanings one by one of the old Ronkan Empire.  Excitement rejuvenated, she then took him to the Raval and took in the murals of Amaurot, Hydaelyn and Zodiark once more.

“Wish you could have heard all our shock when he dropped that piece of information on us,” her sarcastic laugh echoed through the caverns.  “I think you saw enough of it when we relayed it back to you though, we couldn’t get back to the Tower fast enough.”  With one last contemplative look at the murals, she gave a nod, hope filling her voice again.

“Alright, enough of that, back to Ahm Araeng, we need to find Thancred and Ryne.  It’s time to go home.”

-------------------------------------------------------K

The Crystarium markets were abuzz as Karo picked up the trinket she had ordered from the jeweler.  She could tell the people of the city knew something was going on with all the Scions back in town, and word about what had happened with their Exarch.  There was just enough time for her to head back to her Pendants room and imbue it with the spell she had planned.  The spell required her to sing, and so she pulled out her harp and sat down at the edge of the window and after activating the first part of the spell with a tendril of aether, started to sing.  The song was one of hope, of the man from another world who had turned this new one into his home, caring for its people and leading them towards a better tomorrow.  Singing with all her heart and soul the sun slowly drew across the sky as she continued with every song of hope and inspiration she could remember.  Out of repertoire finally, she closed the second part of the spell and picked up the glowing pendant shaped like her harp.  She packed up her bags, shouldering them and headed back to the Tower.  Sneaking around the gathering, she headed up the stairs to the platform where she left her voice enveloping the crystalline form of the one who held her heart.  Hope surrounded them both as the ache in her heart finally melted away, and she headed down to bring them all home at last.